More than half an hour into the press conference, with his retirement from Test cricket confirmed, Usman Khawaja was asked about the role of opening the batting and its relevance in the modern game. He answered with ease, detailing the specific mental challenges of facing the new ball. Minutes later, he was asked how Australia can unite after last month’s terrorist attack at Bondi Beach. Again, there was little hesitation before the lengthy reply. He cited the teachings of the prophet Muhammad, politicians who “try to divide and conquer” and closed with his reflections on the tragedy itself. This was no ordinary sporting farewell.
Those who have tracked the path of Khawaja’s career closely will not have been surprised by the openness in the 50-minute press conference on Friday and the lines to have come from it. Reflecting on his proud journey as a Muslim boy born in Pakistan “who was told he would never play for the Australian cricket team”, Khawaja claimed he was still subject to “racial stereotypes”, arguing they had re-emerged at the start of the Ashes when he was scrutinised for playing golf in the buildup before sustaining back spasms in the first Test.
“The way everyone came at me about my preparation was quite personal,” said Khawaja, “in terms of things like, ‘he’s not committed to the team’, ‘he was only worried about himself’, ‘he played this golf comp the day before’, ‘he’s selfish’, ‘he doesn’t train hard enough’, ‘he didn’t train the day before game’, ‘he’s lazy’. These are the same stereotypes – racial stereotypes – I’ve grown up with my whole life.”
This desire to veer into such conversations is uncommon in Khawaja’s profession, even if there was an initial reluctance to get too personal at the start of his career. When he emerged at the Sydney Cricket Ground in January 2011, he appeared a reluctant trailblazer. The then 24-year-old downplayed the mark he had immediately made as the first Muslim to play for Australia. “You can make something out of anything,” he said at the time. “You can say that Michael Beer is the first person who sticks his tongue out 24/7 to play for Australia.”
As time went on, he opened up. In 2017, he wrote about the racism he endured when growing up in western Sydney, the mark left on him when called “curry-muncher” by kids at school, how when he watched Australia play “he saw men who were hard-nosed, confident, almost brutish. The same type of men who would sledge me about my heritage growing up.”
He spoke more openly about the impact of his faith, the contentment it provided, and his voice has been prominent and assured when discussing the plight of Palestinians. A couple of rather simple, straightforward slogans on his shoes – “All lives are equal” and “Freedom is a human right” – brought the ire of the International Cricket Council two years ago. “I put myself out there,” said Khawaja on Friday, adding that is why he has been “nailed a lot of the time over the last two years”.
When discussing the stereotypes he claims to have been subject to by the media and former players, Khawaja did not detail specifics, and some further explanation would have been welcome. But maybe greater attention should be paid to social media: it does not take much effort to find the venom that comes Khawaja’s way over there, to recognise the age-old rhythm to the abuse: that he should stick to sports. Khawaja, unflinching, offered a reminder that he has no intention to do so.
A message of hope was in there, too. Khawaja talked about the game being more inclusive in Australia than when he started, that “we’re a lot better than where we were 15 years ago”. It can also be said with great certainty that he has inspired future generations, right from the very beginning when he hammered a pull off Chris Tremlett for his first boundary in Test cricket.
Some transparency is required here. I watched that opening knock as an impressionable 13-year-old and was grateful for quite a simple thing: someone who looked like me, another Pakistan-born immigrant, doing something I loved, at the highest possible level. He was instantly a hero. He has been a fascinating watch ever since, resuscitating his career at various points, his revival in 2022 particularly stirring. For a period, he really was the best red-ball opener in the world. Khawaja will finish up over the coming days at the SCG, where it all began, but his voice will remain worth listening to.
