Ronwen Williams Faces Political Storm at World Cup

Ronwen Williams stands in the middle of a World Cup he has spent his whole career chasing, and finds himself dodging something far more vicious than a Mexican press: his own people.

On the eve of Bafana Bafana’s crucial Group A clash with Czechia in Atlanta, the captain has become the lightning rod for a storm of anger that has little to do with football and everything to do with South Africa’s politics, borders, and bruised continental relationships.

A World Cup dream poisoned

For this Bafana generation – many of them teenagers when South Africa hosted the 2010 World Cup – this tournament was supposed to be the return to the big stage, the long-awaited second act. Instead, it has opened like a nightmare.

A 2-0 defeat to Mexico at Azteca Stadium on 11 June did more than dent hopes of progression. It lit the fuse.

FIFA’s social media protection service has revealed that Bafana players have faced unprecedented levels of online abuse since the World Cup kicked off. The combined incidents of abuse they have tracked at this tournament have already surpassed the total for the entire World Cup in Qatar, and that’s within a week of the first whistle.

The criticism started with football. It didn’t stay there.

South Africa’s hardening anti-immigrant posture has poured petrol on the flames. Bafana’s poor start has collided with a wider continental anger at the country’s politics, turning the national team into a proxy target for rage that has been building for years.

Williams has found himself at the centre of it.

“We know how difficult it is now on social media, where everyone is attacking you,” he said. “Sometimes it’s (because of) false information. If you lose a game, and you don’t perform, you can take it as players. You can put your hand up. But when there’s false information that goes around, then it hurts.”

Hate-watching Bafana

The backdrop is ugly and familiar.

The vigilante group March and March, which calls itself “a grassroots citizen movement addressing growing concerns about undocumented immigration in South Africa”, has surged into the spotlight back home. Their rhetoric has grown louder, to the point that President Cyril Ramaphosa felt compelled to address the nation and announce measures to tackle porous borders.

March and March has gone further, publicly setting 30 June as a deadline for undocumented migrants to leave South Africa. They have not spelled out what happens after that date, but the tone and scenes from their marches have hinted at potential violence.

Governments across the continent have started offering facilities for voluntary repatriation. On social media, a different kind of movement has taken hold: Africans “hate watching” Bafana, using the national team as a canvas for their anger at South Africa’s politics.

The blowback has been vicious and often dishonest. Fake news has spread, including a fabricated quote from Williams that was picked up by reputable publications, claiming he had criticised Africans for supporting Mexico over Bafana and said the team “almost shed a tear”.

He is adamant he never said it.

“I have been a target over the last few days over things I didn’t say,” he explained. “I didn’t say anything about Africa, or people supporting Mexico. I have always said that as Africa, we are one. We support each other in good and bad moments.

“We’ve all got our own politics, our own problems and our own fights that we deal with back home. Every country has that. I don’t know where that stems from. It does hurt. I have been attacked... my country as well, for things that are going on back home.”

Old wounds, new consequences

This is not the first time Bafana have paid the price for South Africa’s internal fractures.

In 2019, Madagascar and Zambia refused to play international friendlies against Bafana in protest at xenophobic attacks in South Africa. Coach Molefi Ntseki, newly in the job after Stuart Baxter, was left to start the 2021 Africa Cup of Nations qualifying campaign without proper preparation.

The cost was brutal. Bafana failed to qualify, finishing third in a group with Ghana, Sudan, and São Tomé and Príncipe.

Six years on, the anger has shifted platforms but not direction. Those furious with South Africa’s stance on immigration are now venting directly at the players, especially online.

“Players are human beings as well. We go through it. Sometimes it gets a lot,” Williams admitted. “You want to focus on doing your job, which is being a footballer, but then you get involved in politics even though you don’t want to get into that space.”

The timing is cruel. On Thursday, at Atlanta Stadium, Bafana face Czechia in a match that could decide who escapes Group A and who goes home. The top two teams in each group qualify automatically for the last 32, while eight of the 12 best third-placed sides also advance. Every point, every goal, matters.

And still, the noise keeps coming.

‘Let us just play football’

In the middle of the hostility, Williams clings to the one thing that brought him here: the game itself.

“The wonderful thing about sport is that it can unite, it can make or break you. It can bring people together,” he said.

“We are in Atlanta now, and I see so many Africans... so many South Africans and people from Mexico, in one room. That’s the beauty of sport. That’s the beauty of football.

“So, let’s just enjoy and have a wonderful time, and we leave politics to the politicians. Let us just play football, and enjoy ourselves.

“Criticise [us] for what happens on the field, but off the field things – we can’t deal with that, and it has nothing to do with us. As Africans, let’s unite and keep going because we are all in this together.”

Inside the camp, the response has been to close ranks and narrow the focus.

“As sad as this sounds, players have accepted it (the online abuse), that that’s how things are in the world now,” Williams said. “We’ve had meetings to discuss this as players. But you have an experienced coach in coach Hugo (Broos), who says that the most important thing is to analyse the game.

“That is the most important thing, to block out the noise, focus on how we can do better, learn from our mistakes and just stick together as a team.

“If you are going to listen to a million people’s opinions, then you will lose your mind. So, at this moment, the most important comment and the person to listen to is our coach and technical team. He knows us, and we know him. He knows our strengths and weaknesses.

“We are there for one another. We came here together, and we will leave here together. So, let us stick together as a team and keep the focus.”

A test of more than talent

Bafana’s route out of Group A will not be decided only by tactics, finishing, or defensive shape. It will also hinge on how a squad already carrying the weight of history handles the hatred pouring in from beyond the touchline, and the sting of criticism from home.

For Williams, the task is brutally clear: stand in goal, stand in front of his team, and stand firm against a tide that has nothing to do with a ball, a whistle, or a scoreboard.

On Thursday in Atlanta, South Africa will find out whether this generation can still chase a World Cup dream while the country’s deepest divisions rage in the background – or whether, once again, politics will write the final line of Bafana Bafana’s story.