Former AFL CEO Ross Oakley recalls dealing with racism in the game during his time in charge between of the league between 1986-96 in this extract from his new book The Phoenix Rises. 

I knew something had to be done, and I knew, too, that while racial vilification would be a tough thing for the AFL to address, if we were serious about our responsibilities as “keepers of the code” and as a dominant sporting body, we simply had to tackle it and show leadership.

As pioneers in this effort, it took us some time to grapple with the complexities of the situation. I spent many hours in discussion with Jeff Browne and his staff working through the detail, but it took another flare- up—the abuse of Essendon’s Michael Long by Collingwood ruckman Damien Monkhorst at the Anzac Day match in 1995—to finally throw the switch.

Following the incident, a mediation session between the two players was organised. It failed, primarily because we had no experience in how to handle such a matter and also because, despite the advice of the two clubs that the matter be resolved privately and that Monkhorst make a formal apology to Long, Monkhorst had received legal advice that an apology would be tantamount to an admission of guilt.

It all went wrong from that point. When the two players came out of the room, after what seemed ages, to face the impatient media, our assumption was that the matter had been resolved and an apology had been offered. It later emerged that this was not the case, and Long was seething. Monkhorst had not apologised. Long made no comment to those of us waiting outside the room. Without further discussion, Long, Monkhorst and I went to a press conference. It turned out to be an embarrassment for all present. Long remained deeply angered by what had happened and it clearly showed on his face, although I could not see this from where I was seated.

Later Long told the media that Monkhorst had not apologised but had simply retorted: “You took it the wrong way, mate.” Long suggested that the AFL wanted to “hush it up” but insisted that the public had a right to know what had happened and why he had been so deeply hurt that he had taken it to the League, and to the public. This outcome was far from what all of us in the commission had hoped for. I was deeply concerned about our failure to resolve the matter, not only to Long’s satisfaction but also to uphold the moral values of the competition.

I wanted to convey my feelings to Long personally. With Tony Peek, I made my way to Essendon to talk to Long and to all the Indigenous players on the Essendon list at the time, including Gavin Wanganeen and Che Cockatoo-Collins, who had been in earshot of the on-field abuse. I wanted to apologise to Michael for letting him down, and I think he appreciated the gesture. But we knew we had to get it right in future.

Eventually, some weeks after the incident, Monkhorst apologised. In a 2011 interview he said he still deeply regretted his role in the 1995 Anzac Day race row but was pleased that some good had come from the incident, in that it was the catalyst for sweeping change. Admitting he had taken a long time to get over it, Monkhorst—who has had a distinguished coaching career since his retirement from playing, most recently as a ruck coach at Hawthorn—said he “faced a reminder of it every year on April 25”. He said he was happy to “carry the can”, especially since the ramifications played a part in providing a better environment for Indigenous footballers in the AFL and at lower levels. “It was a huge mistake on my part,” Monkhorst pronounced. “But it has made a great difference to the AFL and to the Indigenous boys running around at the moment, and that’s fantastic.”12

Long’s actions set in motion a profoundly transformative chain of events. The League’s Indigenous players were beginning to demand action, and we met a delegation at the AFL. Immediately afterwards I organised for Peek to interview every Indigenous player in the League. I wanted to understand first hand the scope of the problem and get a sense of how we could handle any future racial abuse. It was clear the Monkhorst incident was not an isolated moment.

I was shocked when I learned that Peek’s conversations revealed there were at least 10 serial offenders from half a dozen clubs. From these meetings and interviews came cross-cultural programs with the Victorian Aboriginal Education Association. Long and Cockatoo-Collins, along with the Saints’

Gilbert McAdam and Brisbane’s Michael McLean, provided significant input into the development of the League’s policy, with assistance from Jeff Browne and Ron Merkel QC. The players stressed that any policy had to be based on education, so that if their sons became AFL players, they would not be subjected to the abuse their fathers had received—on and off the field. To ensure the code covered all potential areas of abuse, and all of the many cultures that were part of the AFL game, we also sought advice from players from immigrant families, including Melbourne’s Jim Stynes and Footscray’s Tony Liberatore and Ilija Grgic.

A code of conduct regarding racial vilification, with religious and sexual vilification provisions, all of which had been in the making since the 1993 Winmar incident, was refined and included in our rules. Education was a key plank of the code, with confidential mediation a fundamental part of any complaints made either by players or by umpires, but players could be heavily fined or even suspended, and clubs could also face sanctions. Should mediation fail—meaning the vilified player was not satisfied with the outcome—the matter would be sent to the Tribunal.

The code, which extended beyond the playing field to include club officials and administrators, would go on to win a United Nations Association of Australia Special Peace Award, which still hangs proudly in AFL House. Within a few months of the Long-Monkhorst controversy, the AFL launched anti-racism advertising campaigns that included the threat of ejecting racist fans from matches. There were other consequences, including the launch of the AFL KickStart program, which aims to provide resources for education opportunities in Indigenous communities; it continues its good work today, with significant corporate support.

The above is an extract from The Pheonix Rises – The amazing story of the Salvation of Australian Football by Ross Oakley OAM.

Click here to get your copy today.