For Afghan refugees arriving in Australia after Kabul's fall, the sight of Rashid Khan playing in the Big Bash League became a profound symbol of hope and continuity. Now, journalist Shadi Khan Saif argues that Australia's policy of isolating the Afghan men's team is a deeply painful and flawed approach that misses a crucial opportunity for meaningful support.
A Beacon of Hope in Quarantine
Shadi Khan Saif recalls the surreal scene of arriving at a near-empty Brisbane airport in the summer following the Taliban's takeover of Kabul in 2021. Evacuated Afghans were processed with clinical efficiency and ushered into hotel quarantine, their futures uncertain. The collapse of a 20-year rebuilding effort left a generation in despair.
Within minutes of checking into quarantine, a phone call from a fellow refugee, Sardar, changed the atmosphere. "Turn on the TV," he said joyfully. "Cricket is on. Rashid is playing. Here. In Australia."
In that moment, locked in rooms across Brisbane, displaced Afghans found a lifeline. They watched as Rashid Khan, the superstar leg-spinner, took the field for the Adelaide Strikers. By then, Rashid had taken 98 wickets in 69 BBL matches with an elite economy rate of 6.44. More powerfully, on his hands were gloves stitched in the black, red, and green of the Afghan flag.
"At a time when the Taliban had seized every official symbol of Afghanistan," Saif writes, "Rashid and his teammates were among the very few Afghans still carrying the tricolour on a global stage." The presence of other players like Mohammad Nabi and Mujeeb Ur Rahman in the league transformed cricket from mere escapism into a vital proof that Afghanistan had not vanished.
The Heavy Cost of Australia's Silent Boycott
That visible presence has now faded. Australia has consistently cancelled or declined to schedule bilateral series against Afghanistan's men's team, citing the Taliban's ban on women and girls from sport. While the intention to condemn gender apartheid is understandable, Saif contends the impact is deeply flawed.
Afghan male cricketers are being penalised for decisions made by a regime they do not represent, control, or can safely criticise. Many have family still in Afghanistan and are refugees themselves. Yet, as the most visible global representatives of the nation, they alone bear the consequences of international outrage.
This isolation persists even as Afghan cricket soars. Since gaining full ICC membership in 2017, the men's team has risen remarkably, reaching the semi-finals of the 2024 T20 World Cup. Their vast, emotionally invested fanbase spans the global diaspora, including in Australia.
A Proposed Path: Conditional Engagement and Leadership
Saif does not argue for simply resuming matches. Instead, he proposes conditional engagement that leverages Cricket Australia's moral, financial, and symbolic influence far more effectively than quiet disengagement.
He suggests a path where Australia explicitly ties engagement with the men's team to visible, material support for Afghan women cricketers living in exile, many of whom are in Australia. This could involve:
- Pairing BBL contracts for Afghan male players with funding, facilities, visas, or coaching roles for displaced female athletes.
- Using Australia's influence within the ICC to push for structural reforms that create pathways for exiled women's teams to gain recognition.
- Providing broadcast platforms to amplify the stories and skills of Afghan women cricketers.
"None of this legitimises the Taliban," Saif emphasises. "It bypasses them entirely." This approach would honour the transformative power of cricket that he and other refugees experienced firsthand.
For those in quarantine, watching Rashid Khan under the stadium lights did what politics could not—it cut through fear and grief, restoring a sense of dignity and belonging. Cricket Australia, Saif concludes, can still honour that power not by erasing Afghan cricketers, but by using the game to stand with all of them.
