The PR machine’s switched on. You can hear it in the predictable panic from the same old voices, “a rebel league will tear the game apart. It’ll destroy Test rugby”, writes ZELÍM NEL.

The people panicking are the ones who’ve built careers gatekeeping access to the top table. Where have these people been?

Test rugby was gutted the moment World Rugby sold off national jerseys. When you can qualify through residency or ancestry stretched three generations deep, it’s not Test rugby, it’s club rugby with different branding.

The jersey used to mean something. But that value’s been diluted by marketing strategies chasing inclusivity over identity. And now the bill’s arrived.

Professional players have a shelf-life. They’ve got five, maybe 10 years to make a living. The old model asked them to sacrifice that window for the honour of playing for a nation, and bent and broke the rules to allow foreigners to represent that nation. I’d say the sun is setting on those days.

The result in many countries is that contract value has overtaken national adoration as the players’ priority. A rebel league that limits matches, extends careers and boosts income isn’t a threat, it’s the logical next step and it’s irresistible.

Why kill yourself flying across the world for a Test jersey that’s handed out like a goodie bag, when you can play fewer games, against the best, for more money?

World Rugby had decades to build something like this. Instead, they protected a broken tier system, chased vanity projects and left players to pick between loyalty and financial security. Now someone else is offering both.

A global league run like a professional competition rather than a scout club is the upgrade rugby needs. Of course the old guard hate it – their control is slipping, the narrative is shifting and the players are finally calling the shots.

Rebel rugby isn’t the problem. World Rugby is.

Let it burn.

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