May the Best Man Win: Sport, Masculinity, and Nationalism in Great Britain and the Empire, 1880-1935

by Patrick F. McDevitt

As Britain's great power status came to be increasingly challenged in the decades before the First World War, one by-product of the resultant uncertainty was the weakening of the Victorian, middle-class consensus of what constituted ideal manhood. Britain's empire was not only the source of wealth and power, but it simultaneously provided alternative models of masculinity and nationhood. Consequently, the empire and the commonwealth played an important role in defining imperial gender relations in both Britain and in the colonies and dominions. May the Best Man Win investigates the continual re-assessment and reassertion of various masculine ideals associated with sport in the British empire between 1880 and 1935.

188 pages, Hardcover

First published April 17, 2004

Reviews

[Malcolm · Rating 2 out of 5]

I spent the last 15-20 pages of this book wondering what I could write about it and have come to the conclusion that it is, on balance, a really good chance wasted. I really like, and in my own work am really sympathetic to, the view from the periphery and subaltern as a way to debunk the dominant and received versions of ideas of the empire as nationally framed by asking important questions about ideals of empire as gendered.

Much as it poses some useful and important questions about imperial masculinities that get beyond both the dominant view of empire and the view espoused by followers-of-Mangan that emphasise schools, teachers, and versions of a diffusionist model of the colonials adopting British sports, it also lacks focus. The dominant view-under-critique is only weakly articulated and for the most part is left almost to emerge osmotically from the case studies. Equally importantly, the major case study – the two phases of the Bodyline crisis in imperial cricket (1933 and 1934) whilst commendably giving considerable attention to the West Indies tour of England in 1934 comes very close to falling into the nationalist framework McDevitt argues limits the analysis.

The most promising case studies – of the GAA and polo in India – lack the depth they need to be convincing. I say these things as one whose professional work is as a historian of imperial sport, and as one who is very sympathetic to the overall case McDevitt is making. It may be that he is trying to write for two audiences: historians of empire and those of sport (or maybe an audience that is not me – that is, scholarly readers interested in empire and gender but with only limited knowledge of sport). It poses important questions and is worth reading by members of both those audiences, but expect frustration.

[Paul · Rating 4 out of 5]

In May the Best Man Win, Patrick McDevitt argues that sport has “been an active engine in the creation and preservation of power relationships” and investigates its impact through the lens of masculinity. Focusing on the British Empire between 1880 and 1930, he argues that sport was concerned with promulgating particular discourses about imperial masculine might, with each chapter examining a case study where these notions were coopted, modified, or outright rejected. The author argues that, regardless of how various societies reacted to this discourse, the important consideration was that the alliance between sport and empire forced them to address it.

McDevitt’s first case study is one of outright rejection, as he examines Ireland and the emergence of the Gaelic Athletic Association, which was designed to demonstrate that Irish masculinity was not, as suggested by the British, inferior. It was, furthermore, about “invented traditions”, as it also had to respond to claims that colonials lacked creative capacity. Naturally, nationalism worked its way into the equation and the Gaelic Games became connected symbolical to Ireland’s historical past, while militarism was instilled through rigorous discipline so that training for sports could become associated with training for revolt. Finally, demonstrating one’s modernity, particularly through “scientific play” that allowed a smarter team to defeat a stronger one, was also a critical element of these developments, one that would allow Ireland to confront the British physically and ideologically. The author argues that all of this came at the expense of women’s position in society, since masculinity was the representation of the nation and the feminine had to be marginalized and dismissed. In his next case study, that of polo in the British Raj, women had no role at all, as that particular sport was appropriated from the local culture and transformed into a “scientific game” for British officers. As a representation of modern masculinity, the Indian upper class wanted to engage the game in order to absorb British values and demonstrate themselves as equals. This was acceptable to the British, who sought to utilize these individuals as models for potential Indian behavior; sport was a realm perceived as apolitical and thus one where praise could be doled out. Yet although the British came to treat them ostensibly as equals, there was an underlying sentiment of Indian inferiority that was couched in Orientalist discourse. For British officers, polo was perceived as helping them curb their excesses, while for the Indian aristocracy, it was the epitome of their excess.

McDevitt’s next topic is boxing, which was one of the last sports to “modernize” and did so only out of a need to protect masculinity from new female athleticism and the rise of non-white athletic prowess. His chapter focuses on the latter issue, where race and manhood quickly became intertwined, leading the spectator to become the true “figure” of the sport. The main imperial discourse here was one of the supremacy of the white male body, which came under attack by the racist perceptions of non-white physical and sexual prowess. Race would also become an important factor in cricket’s “bodyline” controversy, although the author engages this topic first through the relationship between England and Australia. The “bodyline” was essentially a bowling tactic that often gave the batter little choice but to avoid the ball or accept a high risk of injury. The Australians complained when it was used against them, which was deemed “unmanly” by the British and highlighted the need for a paternalistic relationship that could be exercised through a renewed empire. World War I had had a deleterious effect on self-perceptions of British masculinity and the “bodyline” tactic was adhered to as a symbolic grasp over hegemonic masculinity and to justify the inferiority of its colonies. This was despite the fact that most Australian complaints over the tactic were couched in the very language of “fair play” that was deemed a critical component of British imperial masculine discourse. When this style hit the British West Indies, however, a very different reaction emerged. Observing that the “bodyline” was a way for Britain to flex its masculinity, regional cricketers not only adopted it as a way to challenge negative stereotypes about their race, but utilized it better and demonstrated their “modernity” and worthiness in relation to their colonizer. Their use of the tactic, however, led public opinion in England to shift away from support, and eventually the “bodyline” was abandoned by the British team.

McDevitt’s concluding argument is that imperial hegemony remained intact between 1880 and 1930, but it did not go unquestioned, and the vision of a male middle-class white value system was often resisted by those who did not fit in. His work can be repetitive at some points, yet not in a recapitulative fashion, as his narrative lacks signposting and tends to be a bit jumpy. Overall, this leaves a reader of May the Best Man Win with a scattered feeling that makes it difficult to provide a coherent and cohesive summary of the work. In several parts these factors add up to suggest that he does not have much to say on certain topics and, in general, the book is fairly short. Yet it is also very dense and theoretically rigorous and, overall, is a great example of a work that treats sport as a transformative element rather than a reflective one, even if it does veer towards the latter tendency at certain points. It is, therefore, a worthwhile read for historians of sport and the British Empire alike and one that certainly leaves room for further research, development, and refinement.