Serena Williams exposes limits of identity politics

Serena Williams berates Carlos Ramos during the US Open final. Picture: AFP

Tennis careers are defined by moments. The right shot on the biggest points. The shadow of a ball catching a line instead of falling wide. Finding purpose amid the cacophony. Calming your mind when everyone else is losing theirs.

There was a moment Serena Williams could have altered the course of her US Open final against Naomi Osaka. It wouldn’t have saved the match but she could have salvaged far more.

It came as Williams was seated at the change of ends, a set and a break down. She was furious at the chair umpire, Carlos Ramos, for an earlier call he’d made when he had warned her for receiving coaching. Her breathing was ragged. Her blood and a parochial New York crowd was roaring in her ears.

“For you to attack my character, something is wrong, it is wrong’’ she upbraided him. “You are attacking my character. Yes you are. You owe me an apology. You will never, ever, ever be on another court of mine as long as you live. You are the liar.”

She takes a sip of water. It does nothing to sate her.

“When are you going to give me my apology?’’ she continued. “You owe me an apology. Say it. Say you’re sorry. Well then, don’t talk to me. Don’t talk to me.’’

Ramos, an experienced umpire who had tried many times to explain to Williams why he had made the call, took her advice. For 20 long seconds, they sat silently in their respective chairs, staring into the middle of a mutinous Arthur Ashe Stadium.

Williams nibbled something to eat. She wiped her face with a towel. She searched for composure. This was her moment.

Had Williams said nothing more, picked up her racquet and played out the match, her feud with Ramos would have receded and tennis would have celebrated a new star. Instead, she rose from her chair and delivered Ramos a final, fateful spray. “You stole a point from me. You’re a thief, too.’’

In a US Open final, little goes unseen or unheard. There is no question Williams’s coach was signalling to her during the match. There is no quibble about whether she earned a second code violation for smashing her racquet a few games later. There is no ambiguity about what Williams said to Ramos. The grand slam rule book defines anything that implies dishonesty on the part of an umpire as verbal abuse.

Williams with winner Naomi Osaka at the awards ceremony. Picture: AFP

The only question left is why Williams did and said what she did. It is here that reason, common sense and simple observation have been consumed by a pervasive cultural ideology. This, in turn, has exposed the limits of identity politics. A week after Williams sought to portray herself as a victim of sexism, her unlikely cause has been taken up by some of America’s most ardent cultural warriors. Along the way, the facts of what happened in New York have been buried beneath a polemic that reduces Williams, one of the most successful and powerful women in world sport, to the sum of her sexual and racial grievances.

This is how Toni Van Pelt, the president of the National Organisation for Women, describes the interaction between the game’s greatest women’s player and one of its most respected umpires:

“In what was a blatantly racist and sexist move, tennis umpire Carlos Ramos unfairly penalised Serena Williams in an abhorrent display of male dominance and discrimination. This would not have happened if Serena Williams was a man.

“Ramos claimed he was just following the rules, but in actuality, men stretch the rules all the time and are lionised for being ‘bad boys’ while women are benched. This is also a prime example of how racism and sexism are two of the biggest obstacles that black women in America face. NOW is calling on the US Tennis Association to cancel any contracts with Carlos Ramos to umpire tournaments in the future.’’ Van Pelt’s statement picked up where Williams left off in her post-match press conference where, instead of apologising to Ramos, she positioned herself as a champion of women’s rights. In this construct, abuse of an umpire becomes a right to self-expression.

“I have seen other men call other umpires things and I am here fighting for women’s rights and for women’s equality and for all kinds of stuff,’’ Williams said. “The fact that I have to go through this is just an example for the next person that has emotions and that wants to express themselves. They want to be a strong woman and they are going to be able to do that because of today.’’

The Williams argument was backed by Katrina Adams, chief executive of the US Tennis Association, the sport’s governing body in America. The women’s tour also sided with Williams. Billie Jean King, a pioneer of the women’s professional tour, accused Ramos of an abuse of power.

By this stage, an unstoppable, irreversible narrative had taken shape. Kimberle Crenshaw, a civil rights advocate, University of California, Los Angeles and Columbia University academic and a leading figure in the US identity politics movement, drew a parallel between Williams being penalised a game and a black woman being pulled over for a busted tail-light.

“If even Serena gets over-­policed, on the world stage, with millions at stake, for the world to see, in a grand slam final, just think (what) happens to many of us every day,’’ she tweeted.

The meltdown became a politically charged hashtag: YouOweMeAnApology. Maxine Beneba Clarke, an Australian author who has written extensively about racism, saw the incident through the same lens. “Maybe Serena got cranky and yelled at an umpire. Or maybe a black woman dared to stand up against two male colleagues in positions of power, about being treated less than fairly, in front of the entire world, and people just don’t like the New World Order,’’ she tweeted.

It took Martina Navratilova, renowned as an independent thinker and straight talker, to question these arguments. Why, in the name of equality, would women wish to be judged according to the worst standards of men? “In fact, this is the sort of behaviour that no one should be engaging in on the court,’’ she wrote in The Washington Post.

The problem here should be apparent to anyone who steps back from their keyboard long enough to consider the actors in this unfortunate drama. Identity politics would have us believe that Ramos, a white man, is in a position of privilege and Williams, a black woman, struggles daily against ­racism and sexism. In any confrontation, Ramos must be the oppressor and Williams the victim. The truth is rather different.

Williams has dominated her sport for nearly 20 years. She has amassed 23 grand slam singles ­titles, just one behind the record of Australia’s Margaret Court. She is the most marketable female athlete on the planet, with a personal wealth recently estimated at $230 million. She earned $2.6m for finishing runner-up to Osaka. Her family and sporting story, from the gangland streets of Compton, California, to centre court at Wimbledon, is known and celebrated across the world. In world tennis and popular culture, she is an influential figure and powerful voice.

Ramos has been an umpire for 40 years. He has umpired men’s finals in all four grand slam tournaments and is described by the International Tennis Federation as one of the most respected umpires in the sport. What does Ramos say about all this? A condition of his ITF contract prevents him from saying anything at all. He has no voice. He was paid $1450 to officiate the women’s final in New York. If there is sexism in tennis, Ramos was a victim of sorts last Saturday; umpires are paid considerably more to officiate in men’s finals than women’s.

Portuguese tennis umpire Carlos Ramos.

Has Serena Williams experienced racism and sexism in tennis? Of course she has. No tennis player has done more to tear down racial barriers in the sport, both real and perceived, than Williams. But consider what took place last Saturday night in New York. A black woman played the daughter of Haitian and Japanese migrants in a stadium named after another black athlete, Arthur Ashe. They played for the same prizemoney as the men. They played before a global television audience. If only all workplaces were so riddled with sexism and racism.

Bella d’Abrera, an author with the Institute of Public Affairs, says this is the weakness of identity politics, a movement that requires every action to be analysed according to race, sex and gender differences. “Even though the evidence tells us and the facts tell us that she is the most powerful sportswoman in the world and clearly not oppressed, they need to stick with this narrative that because she is black she is oppressed,’’ says d’Abrera. “Whatever the truth about how the match went, it is too late now. They have taken this up as their cause.’’

Let’s try to look at what Williams did not as the actions of a black woman but, rather, an ageing tennis player returning to the game after giving birth, chasing an elusive grand slam title to equal Margaret Court’s record.

When Williams was 10 years old, her father, Richard, predicted that Venus Williams would be a grand slam champion and Serena would be even better than her sister. At the time, she didn’t hit the ball as hard as Venus but had an amazing ability to work the angles on a tennis court.

She was also, already, an intensely fierce competitor. “Serena is something like a pet bulldog,’’ Richard Williams explained. “Once she gets a hold of you, she won’t let go.’’

Williams is a remarkable athlete. Beyond the power of her groundstrokes, the speed of her court movement and her punishing serve, she has an unyielding self-belief. This has been critical to her success. It can also manifest in poor sportsmanship. Williams believes every match is hers to win or lose off her own racquet. She gives no thought to the notion that the other woman on court might be better on the day. When she loses, she will often seek to blame instead of crediting an opponent.

Last Saturday in New York, Williams was decisively outplayed by Osaka. The shifting tone of her exchanges with Ramos can be charted against the scoreline. At 3-0 up in the second set, she was courteous and controlled. When she double faulted to give back the break, she smashed her racquet and started to vent against Ramos. By the time Osaka broke serve again to lead 4-3, Williams was in a rage.

It is not the first time New York has seen this side of Williams. In 2009, she stormed off the court after she was penalised a point, on match point, for abusing a lineswoman in her semi-final against Kim Clijsters. “I swear to God I’ll f..king take that ball and shove it down your f..king throat,’’ she reportedly said. In the 2011 US Open final, after Williams lost the first set, she was docked a point for yelling out while her opponent, Sam Stosur, was trying to hit the ball. At a change of ends, she berated the umpire. “You’re a hater and you’re unattractive inside. What a loser.’’

In both these matches, the central chair umpires were women. In both these matches, Williams was well beaten in front of her home fans.

Williams turns 37 this month. Osaka is 20. Margaret Court, who won three grand slam titles in the year she returned to the tour after giving birth, understands as well as anyone the pressure building on Williams. “She knows there are some young ones coming through who are very capable,’’ Court says. “She will be sensing that.’’ Anyone who understands sport should be sensing that as well. The career of Williams is approaching its end. Her greatest fight is not against sexism or racism in her sport, whether real or imagined, but sporting mortality. This is something every athlete must confront, whatever their sex and colour.