There are at least 11 people who will never know that Novak Djokovic’s father identified with a gaggle of Russian sympathisers provocatively brandishing flags at the Australian Open on Wednesday night. They are the 11 innocent civilians who were killed in the latest Russian bombardment of Kyiv.
There are thousands of others in Kyiv who won’t particularly care about what someone half a world away says or does. They’re huddled in railway stations, wondering what to do about food, water and especially heating. It was minus 3 there last night.
Srdjan Djokovic, the father of Novak Djokovic.Credit:AP
There are around 40 million people for whom Srdjan Djokovic is the least of their problems. They’re Ukrainians, and they’re under daily implicit or explicit siege.
This is the context in which Djokovic senior’s actions must be seen. Russia’s botched but bloody assault on Ukraine has been going on so long now that fatigue is setting in in the West. Ukrainians are imploring the world not to forget or become distracted.
At our distance, it is too easy to get caught up in semantics and symbolism and overlook that Ukraine has become a hell on earth, inflicted on it by the country to whom Djokovic lent his own arm and – unconsciously – the weight of his son’s world-famous name.
Djokovic senior said he meant no harm, but merely was celebrating with fans after his son’s win. Pigs! We might not readily have distinguished a Russian flag from a Serbian flag, but he should have. In any case, the Z on a T-shirt was a bit of a giveaway.
He said he’s lived through war. Good. He should know better than anyone not to do anything – any thing – to inflame war sentiment.
A screenshot from the video in which Srdjan Djokovic appears to say “long live the Russians” in Serbian.
He said he would not attend Friday night’s semi-final. Also good. After what transpired, it would have been folly anyway. But it’s not enough.
He should also ban himself from the final and if he does not, Tennis Australia should ban him.
We won’t hold our breath. Pro tennis has a serve clock, to minimise time-wasting. TA’s serve clock is calibrated in years.
After dithering all day, TA put out a statement late in the afternoon that said … what it has already said. It would continue to remove banned flags and symbols, continue to protect fans, continue to talk to players about the need not to cause stress or disruption and continue to call for peace in our time.
And it would continue to take no action against the father of the biggest name left in the tournament, a nine-time winner here, the most significant figure in Melbourne Park history. Draw your own conclusions.
Twelve months ago, two Australian Open spectators turned up in T-shirts that asked “where’s Peng Shuai?” They were protesting a suspected human rights violation concerning a Chinese player and they gave no offence other than to breach a draconian list of conditions on theirs and everyone’s tickets. They were evicted.
By associating himself with the flag-wielding protestors, Djokovic senior tacitly not only broke the same rules, but actively supported a known and egregious trampling of human rights. And yet he faces no sanction other than what he self-imposes.
On Friday night, Novak’s head would have been hurting more than his notorious hamstring. It’s impossible not to feel sorry for him. Yes, he divides people, but in this he finds himself divided, between family and the right thing. It’s not his fault, but it becomes like a double fault, a setback.
Djokovic senior’s intemperance has had two perverse outcomes. One is to concentrate minds again on Russia’s war against Ukraine. The other arises from the still unresolved debate in this country about how to deal with hate speech without hopelessly infringing free speech.
Old man Djokovic has stirred up hate all right, for himself, and if not collaterally for his son, at least giving the sizeable number of fans who have never warmed to him anyway more reason to withhold affection even as he scales yet greater tennis heights.
