The D'Oliveira affair changed two things permanently. The first is that it ended the polite fiction, sustained by the MCC and ICC for two decades, that sporting and political relations with apartheid South Africa could be kept separate. The cancellation of the 1968-69 tour, the cancellation of the 1970 return tour, and the ICC suspension that followed established a template — sport as instrument of political pressure — that other sports and other boycotts subsequently adopted. By the late 1970s, South African isolation in international sport was nearly total, and that isolation is widely credited as one of the pressures that eventually contributed to the collapse of the apartheid system.
The second change is internal to cricket. The MCC, which had effectively governed the world game from London for a century, lost moral authority through its handling of the affair — the suspicion of its initial omission of D'Oliveira, its slow recognition that the political position was untenable, its reluctance to confront Vorster's government directly. From the 1970s onwards the ICC progressively became a more genuinely international body, and within a generation control of world cricket had shifted decisively away from London. The D'Oliveira affair did not cause that shift on its own, but it accelerated it.
For Basil D'Oliveira personally, the affair was a private as well as a public ordeal. He had not asked to become a symbol; he had wanted, throughout, simply to be selected on merit. His dignity through the months of 1968 — refusing to attack the selectors, refusing to be drawn into political rhetoric, focusing on his cricket — is the reason he is remembered with affection by both English and South African cricket today. He died in 2011, two decades into a free South Africa, having seen the country he was born in restored to international cricket and his own name attached to its principal Test trophy with England.