Khawaja’s Sandpaper Revelation Reopens Deep Wounds for Australian Cricket

Usman Khawaja has alleged that all players and staff in Australia’s Test squad knew about ball tampering during the infamous 2018 Cape Town Test, and that sandpaper was first used in the previous match in Port Elizabeth, now known as Gqeberha.

The claims, revealed in his new book Sabr and in media interviews promoting its release, challenge the official version of events that has underpinned Australian cricket’s response to the “Sandpapergate” scandal for more than six years.

A unified dressing room – or a shared responsibility?

Khawaja says the tampering was no isolated act carried out by a small group, but a scheme known across the touring party.

“It was all of us. Not the batters, not the bowlers, not the staff. All of us,” he told Nine newspapers in comments released ahead of the book’s publication.

That characterisation sits in stark contrast to Cricket Australia’s long-held position that only batter Cameron Bancroft, captain Steve Smith and vice-captain David Warner were aware of the sandpaper ploy. Fast bowlers Pat Cummins, Mitchell Starc, Josh Hazlewood and spinner Nathan Lyon publicly denied in 2021 that they had prior knowledge.

Bancroft was banned for nine months after being caught using sandpaper on the ball during the third Test of the 2018 series against South Africa in Cape Town. Smith and Warner each received 12-month suspensions for their roles as leaders of the side.

Port Elizabeth claims and Smith’s reaction

In Sabr, Khawaja goes further than previously public accounts by alleging that sandpaper was first used during the second Test of that South Africa tour at St George’s Park in Port Elizabeth, now Gqeberha.

He writes that lighthearted discussion in the dressing room about using sandpaper at St George’s Park prompted Smith to remove himself from the situation. Khawaja recalls the captain walking out of the room and saying he did not want to know about it.

He claims Bancroft then volunteered to use sandpaper in the first innings at Gqeberha, where the ball swung markedly, and that by the time the series reached Newlands in Cape Town, he was seated next to Bancroft and observed who spoke to the young opener during the Test that ultimately exposed the scheme.

Personal toll and a chapter dedicated to the banned trio

Khawaja has been promoting Sabr across multiple platforms in recent weeks, but the sections dealing with ball tampering were redacted until now. He says he dedicated the chapter to Bancroft, Warner and Smith after witnessing how the scandal has burdened all three.

Speaking on ABC Radio National’s Conversations program, Khawaja described revisiting the 2018 tour as one of the most difficult parts of writing the book.

“Everyone in that team, one way or another, was affected and we still are affected by that to this day,” he said.

“For me, writing that chapter was more about what I thought was the right thing to do. … I still struggle to talk about it in a lot of respects. There’s no easy way to talk about what happened over there. There’s no easy way to write about that period of Cricket Australia and that period of my life.

“It’s just about telling my story, and what my feelings were particularly at that time and what I saw.”

A culture shaped by ‘win at all costs’

For Khawaja, the ball tampering scandal cannot be separated from what he sees as a deeper cultural trajectory in Australian men’s cricket.

He argues that the events in South Africa were the culmination of seven years of playing under a “win at all costs” mentality that damaged Australia’s standing among rival teams.

He traces that shift back to the 2011 Argus Review, commissioned in the wake of Australia’s first home Ashes series defeat in 24 years. Khawaja made his Test debut in that series, which England won by an innings and 83 runs in Sydney to seal a 3-1 victory.

“The way we were playing, we were disrespecting other players and I talked to other players in other teams I was friends with and they were just like, ‘yeah, we hate your boys’,” he said.

Reflecting on that period, Khawaja is blunt in his assessment of how the team conducted itself.

“This all manifested during that time with sandpaper, and no-one had our backs after that either because why would they? We just acted like idiots for the last seven years.”

Governance, accountability and the limits of official narratives

The scandal in South Africa unfolded under the laws of the game administered by the Marylebone Cricket Club and in a series sanctioned by the International Cricket Council, the global governing body that sets playing regulations and disciplinary frameworks for Test cricket via its Code of Conduct and related legal documents.

Cricket Australia has already conducted internal reviews into the 2018 tour and imposed its own penalties on Smith, Warner and Bancroft. Khawaja’s suggestion that “all of us” knew about the plan does not change those sanctions, but it does raise fresh questions about the scope and conclusions of earlier investigations, and about how responsibility is apportioned within elite teams.

For international audiences, the new claims revive a case study in modern sports governance: how much on-field conduct can be addressed through disciplinary bans for individuals, and how much requires sustained cultural change, leadership turnover and structural reform inside a national board.

The players’ careers and leadership legacy

Smith, Warner and Bancroft have all returned to professional cricket since serving their bans, but Khawaja’s account underlines how enduring the episode has been for those involved.

His childhood coach and mentor, Bill Anderson, told television program Australian Story that Khawaja had urged team-mates in the immediate aftermath of the scandal to accept collective responsibility.

“Usman actually tried to coerce them all to say ‘we all knew what was going on’ and some of them wouldn’t buy into that. Ussie’s view being, ‘they’re not going to sack us all’,” Anderson said.

Khawaja, now 39, told Conversations that with the benefit of hindsight he would have been firmer in holding his position at the time, suggesting that the way accountability was handled still troubles him.

From crisis to humility in the Australian set-up

While revisiting the 2018 series remains painful for Khawaja, he also identifies what he views as a constructive shift that followed the scandal.

He believes the fallout forced the Australian men’s team to confront its identity, its relationship with opponents and officials, and its perception among fans and broadcasters.

“The best things come out of the worst times. I genuinely believe, for the Australian cricket team, the best thing that came out of Sandpaper is we found humility again,” he said.

Former opening batter Justin Langer was appointed head coach in the wake of the scandal. Khawaja credits Langer with steering the team back towards a less abrasive approach.

“JL [Justin Langer] came in as coach and he was honestly probably the best coach we could’ve had at that time. He put humility back in the Australian cricket team.

“It was just lovely to see. It was beautiful. I really enjoyed it. I really enjoyed seeing where the Australian team went from that point onwards and obviously Pat Cummins, who ended up becoming the captain, was a part of that process and journey.”

Why Khawaja’s account resonates beyond Australia

The Sandpapergate scandal was a flashpoint not just for Australian cricket but for the global game, prompting debate about sledging, line‑crossing and the commercial stakes attached to winning in the longest format.

Khawaja’s decision to revisit the saga in detail, and to contest an official narrative that isolated blame to three players, speaks to a wider tension in elite sport between individual culpability and collective responsibility.

For international boards, players’ unions and coaches, his account will be read as another reminder that culture, leadership and regulation intersect directly with competitive integrity – and that the consequences of a single series can shape a national team’s identity for years.