Make singing Swing Low Sweet Chariot a way to foster racial equality, says Sir Clive Woodward

Swing Low, Sweet Chariot’s place in English rugby has never sat well with me. In rugby today, it has drunken, beery connotations accompanied by leery hand gestures — and the song has a complex history in the fight against racism.

The Rugby Football Union will now review the anthem and its place in English rugby. But I believe the key is education.

Like many, I have welcomed the opportunity to pause, listen and reflect so that I can have a better understanding of the systemic racism, injustice and fear faced by people every day.

The Rugby Football Union are reviewing the England rugby anthem ‘Swing Low Sweet Chariot’

I would recommend the podcast featuring former England player Ugo Monye — and current stars Maro Itoje and Anthony Watson — for anyone, rugby fan or not. 

Their determination and positivity in light of everything they have experienced speaks volumes. 

It was eye-opening and — I cannot deny — uncomfortable to listen to. That is only a good thing.

Any hint of racist behaviour should be condemned and eradicated immediately and with full force. For this reason, my initial instinct was to ban Swing Low, Sweet Chariot outright. 

Yet, in doing so, you ban an anthem that is iconic and holds such reverence within black culture and which was introduced to English rugby with the best intentions.

Written by the freed slave, Wallace Willis, after the American Civil War in 1865, it honoured the remarkable and sadly necessary heroics of the Underground Railroad.

The song was popularised by The Jubilee Singers of Fisk University and was a favourite of Paul Robeson, Louis Armstrong, Joan Baez (who sang it at Woodstock) and Martin Luther King.

It is an anthem that took centre stage in the Civil Rights movement, often sung at funerals and widely celebrated in jazz and blues scenes the world over.

It was originally sung by the England crowd in solidarity, and in total support of wing Chris Oti when he made his debut in 1988 and scored a sensational second-half hat-trick to win the match after the team bombed spectacularly in the first half.

The anthem was sung by England fans in solidarity and in support of winger Chris Oti (above)

Oti was the first black player to be capped by England in 80 years. James Peters had been the last and he was famously dropped —for being black — at the request of the South African touring team.

Oti’s achievement warranted celebration and acknowledgement from the crowd. Perhaps some sang it because they knew it was a civil rights anthem, perhaps some just knew it from drunken nights down the clubhouse.

I am sure all England fans will agree Swing Low, Sweet Chariot’s relationship with England rugby today is a far cry from the song’s origins, its place in the Civil Rights movement or celebrating Oti’s place in English rugby history.

I do not think anyone is singing it with racist intent but the current perception of the song is complicated and its racial overtones are highlighted, despite its links to the Civil Rights Movement.

The outcry that banning Swing Low, Sweet Chariot is an example of ‘political correctness gone mad’ misses the point.

Banning Swing Low, Sweet Chariot is not necessarily ‘political correctness gone mad’

It is about showing solidarity and committing to bettering the game and society.

Naturally, banning an iconic piece of black culture is counter-intuitive in the fight for equality.

Yet, would anyone argue its current application within English rugby is benefiting the cause? The game must show solidarity and get on the front foot in every way possible.

If Swing Low, Sweet Chariot — so well established within the game — became the spearhead by which England rugby educated, reformed and contributed in the fight for racial equality, it could be incredibly powerful.

I believe that might be the way forward — and a more positive, unifying step than a ban.

It could be seen as an anthem that represents the team’s and the fans’ commitment to the cause and once again becomes an emphatic dedication to Oti — fans singing with gusto, while fully appreciating the whole story.

Whether this is possible, I do not know. 

If, after consideration with players, fans, cultural leaders and other social justice groups, the RFU decide that the most powerful course of action is that Swing Low, Sweet Chariot should no longer be associated with England rugby and sung at Twickenham, I would be supportive.

Sir Clive Woodward would support the banning of the anthem if the RFU deem it inappropriate

Either way, the decision must prioritise the support for the black community, players and fans, not the defence of a ‘rugby tradition’ that is out of touch.

Anthems are powerful symbols, but has the game done enough to promote racial equality and representation in players, coaching, employment and leadership?

The statistics plainly suggest not.