War, peace and the IOC

I woke up this morning to the devastating news that Russian Olympic and World Champion in gymnastics, Nikita Nagorny, led a march of Russia's Youth Cadets this week.  A video of Russian soldiers thanking him and team mates Denis Abliazin, David Belyavski and Artur Dalaloyan for  a donation has appeared on social media.  

Both of these stories have to be independently verified.  

It is not for us to judge individuals in this awful situation.  Who knows what the truth is.  The IOC certainly shouldn't issue ongoing status notifications about whether this person or that will be allowed to compete in Paris 2024.  They haven't yet issued any definite rules about Russia's participation in the Games, so no judgement can be made.  And the issue of Russia's participation in the Games is not a matter to be settled under individual accountability.  It is far more serious than that.  Collectively, Russia must show that it complies with the Fundamental Principles of Olympism, as published by the IOC on its website.  

It's a fairly long document that I have published at the bottom of this page, if you want to read it all.  To me, the important terms include ideas of 'respect for universal fundamental ethical principles', 'placing sport at the service of harmonious development of humankind, with a view to promoting a peaceful society'.  'The practice of sport is a human right', requiring 'fair play'.  Sports organisations 'shall apply a principle of political neutrality'.  

The staging of the Olympic Games is only one way in which the Olympic movement promotes its fundamental principles.  If you have attended an Olympic Games or lived in an Olympic city, you'll know that there are whole cultural and educational programmes accompanying the Games.  Perhaps these need to be higher profile.  The practice of sport is central to the principles, but sport does not have to be a high level elite competition to contribute to peace and the harmonious education of society.   

'Fair play' cannot be guaranteed when one country is being bombed by another.  As Oleg Verniaiev has pointed out, Ukrainian athletes are homeless, cold and dying while Russians train in the gym.  Verniaiev has been unable to train in his home town, Donetsk, since 2014, the date when Russia first invaded Ukraine.  It is understandable that he is so vocal in condemning his rival gymnasts in Russia.  But it's the IOC who has to make a decision about Russia.  The IOC should remember that its symbol, interlinking rings, is recognised around the world as a cipher for peace.  Its presence is powerful, conferring adherence to ideas of peace and friendship, and Russian citizens may take its use by Russian athletes to be an endorsement.

Its absence too is significant and powerful.  Russian people should not be able to gather under the Olympic rings until President Putin has withdrawn his troops from Ukraine and agreed peace.  Russian people should know that this is happening and what it signifies - a wholesale rejection of Putin's aggression towards Ukraine by a large part of the rest of the world.

The IOC has proposed that Russian athletes may be allowed to compete in Paris 2024 under a neutral flag - the flag of the Olympic rings.  They say that they do not wish to politicise sport and that individuals should not be barred from elite competition because of the colour of their passport.  Yet for many years President Putin has used sport as a means of promoting his country overseas and unifying his population behind him.  His view of sport is firmly political.  It's hard to know how his athletes can be politically independent when his policies and practice are applied with such ruthless and brutal efficiency.  Journalists, athletes, politicians and ordinary people have been murdered, imprisoned, ridiculed and silenced by Putin's regime.  There is no freedom for individuals to express their dissidence freely.  

Putin will look to the Olympics to provide him with endorsement from his population and to improve the morale of his citizens.  He will use medals as evidence that his country is forward looking and finding victory against all the odds.  He will seek to demotivate Ukraine.  Neutral flag or not, he will use the Olympics to gain momentum in his wholly illegal attack on Ukraine.  President Zelensky has asked the IOC to exclude Russia from the Games.  Politics is part of sport.  The IOC should have the courage to use their world mandate as a symbol of peace and exclude all Russians from the Games.  The Olympic rings should not be seen in Moscow, St Petersburg, Novosibirsk or Voronezh next summer.

Neutrality is useless.  Neutrality allowed six million people to be slaughtered during the Holocaust.  Silence confers agreement.  The IOC has to take courage.

It's a sad day when I cannot support my beloved Russians in gymnastics.  

"Fundamental Principles of Olympism 

1 Olympism is a philosophy of life, exalting and combining in a balanced whole the qualities of body, will and mind. Blending sport with culture and education, Olympism seeks to create a way of life based on the joy of effort, the educational value of good example, social responsibility and respect for universal fundamental ethical principles. 

2 The goal of Olympism is to place sport at the service of the harmonious development of humankind, with a view to promoting a peaceful society concerned with the preservation of human dignity. 

3 The Olympic Movement is the concerted, organised, universal and permanent action, carried out under the supreme authority of the IOC, of all individuals and entities who are inspired by the values of Olympism. It covers the five continents. It reaches its peak with the bringing together of the world’s athletes at the great sports festival, the Olympic Games. Its symbol is five interlaced rings. 

4 The practice of sport is a human right. Every individual must have the possibility of practising sport, without discrimination of any kind and in the Olympic spirit, which requires mutual understanding with a spirit of friendship, solidarity and fair play. 

5 Recognising that sport occurs within the framework of society, sports organisations within the Olympic Movement shall apply political neutrality. They have the rights and obligations of autonomy, which include freely establishing and controlling the rules of sport, determining the structure and governance of their organisations, enjoying the right of elections free from any outside influence and the responsibility for ensuring that principles of good governance be applied. 

6 The enjoyment of the rights and freedoms set forth in this Olympic Charter shall be secured without discrimination of any kind, such as race, colour, sex, sexual orientation, language, religion, political or other opinion, national or social origin, property, birth or other status. 

7 Belonging to the Olympic Movement requires compliance with the Olympic Charter and recognition by the IOC."

Hear the Ukrainian gymnasts’ voices

The Ukrainian gymnasts make their presence known quietly, by their achievement in competition and in the training hall.  Long may they continue; it is a moral victory over Russia.  

I can’t even imagine what it must be like to have friends and family in the firing line in Ukraine, scattered all over the world as refugees, and then to appear in a major competition like Europeans.   Also visible is Oleg Vernaiev, who has remained at home in Ukraine.  You can follow him on Instagram, as you can most of the gymnasts.

This week Petro Pakhniuk has been speaking online and I recommend you read this translation - Petro is very upset because the Russian gymnasts, many of whom were friends with the Ukrainians, did not speak out against the war, even in the earliest days of the conflict.  

I can understand these feelings and I wonder if there will now ever be a time when Ukrainians and Russians can stand side by side on the podium again.  When you think of the work they shared in the past, it is a dreadful shame.  

Some of the Russians did protest at the war very early on; I can’t name them for fear they will suffer retribution.  Even so, it obviously wasn’t enough.  The Ukrainians have their feelings and under the circumstances feel abandoned, disappointed, and worse.

The next stage is for the gymnasts to prepare for and compete at Worlds. They are all incredibly brave, and we should support them vocally, whenever we can, in person and on social media.

Some of Ukraine’s gymnasts on Instagram - please comment with further links.

Igor Radivilov

Oleg Vernaiev

Petro Pakhniuk

Angelina Kysla-Radivilova

Radivilov dedicates his medals

European bronze medallist on vault, Igor Radivilov, dedicates his medal to his grandfather and grandmother who died in Mariopol as a result of the Russian hostilities.

Igor is now preparing for Worlds in Germany, with his team mate Petro Pakhiniuk.  All my love and support to all Ukrainian athletes who bravely persist. 

🙏 Pray for peace in Ukraine

Without Russia, there just isn’t the leadership …

I’ve struggled to see the European beam final in any kind of perspective at all until the last day. 

The thing that slapped me in the face was the dismount of the gold medal winning routine - just not an international level skill and completely out of synch with the rest of the gymnastics shown.

The execution of that routine was ok, but the content rather low.  Should it even have been in a final?  Well, that’s a Code problem, not a gymnast one … but will the judges see the Code differently in Liverpool?  How will this charade be seen on the world podium?  

When are the judges going to start doing their job, and judge?  Just because someone had decided that there should be a home advantage to the Germans didn’t mean they had to win two gold medals.  One would have been enough.  It is a pity that Pauline Schaefer had a mistake as I felt her quality of work was otherwise best on the day … but mistakes happen.   Ondine Achampong executed well and had higher difficulty than the first placed athlete - it is plain that the gold should have been hers.  And that’s about the judging, not the athletes.

Still, the general standard of work was pretty poor on beam and that seems to have become a European problem.  We got carried away with happiness, seeing the wonderfully spirited Italians do so well.  It blinded us to the fact that more generally  the level was very low.  I think in Liverpool Europe will struggle to compete with China, Brazil, Canada and even the USA on beam.  The difficulty of the vaults in Munich would not have been enough to win the Olympics as far back as 2012.  Others can comment on bars and floor.

Russia’s exclusion from these Games was a tragedy for their gymnasts as individuals … I talk about the principle of this elsewhere, and I conclude that Russia, as a team at least, will not make an appearance at the 2024 Olympics.  What I haven’t considered is the impact of Russia’s absence on gymnastics in Europe in general, beyond a certain motivational impetus.   People can see more medals becoming available to them in the absence of the Russians, but medals aren’t everything; what about the work?  

Standards have fallen, and there is no leadership.  We need Russia to lead Europe’s competitiveness in world gymnastics, and there is already a lag developing.  Is there anyone who, in their absence, can make more of a case for European women’s artistic gymnastics?  Because I don’t think we can do this without them … 

Into the Shadow of Russian Gymnastics - the Life and Death of Elena Mukhina

Part One of a continuing series

I have a strong belief that Russia has contributed a great deal more to gymnastics that is positive than negative.  But without acknowledging the darkness, we cannot appreciate the light; and for most people, the story of 1978 World Champion, Elena Mukhina, casts the deepest shadow.

Elena was born on June 1, 1960 in Moscow.  She came from a broken family; her nearest relative was her grandmother, who brought her up from an early age.  Elena remembered her first steps in gymnastics and how excited she was to be selected to train.  From the age of 14 she was coached by Mikhail Klimenko at the Central Army Club in Moscow.  Klimenko remembered his first impressions of her as a somewhat unsmiling girl, who had still to achieve her best in gymnastics.  With his help, by 1978, Elena had become the all around World Champion in gymnastics.

A shadow casts itself over my shoulder at this moment.  You can’t appreciate the light without considering the shade.  So I will talk this through with you, and try to understand.

In case you are wondering, I am not about to write a ghost story.  However, sadness envelopes me whenever I think of Elena Mukhina.  Elena, the 1978 World Champion, broke her neck in 1980, just prior to the Moscow Olympic Games.  She never recovered from her terrible injuries and eventually died in 2006, at the age of 46.  I cannot find a way of expressing the loss and anguish.  Elena’s accident was a calamity for everyone involved, near and far.

Elena was less than a year younger than me.  As I write this, she is sitting next to me.  She has just turned 62.  Perhaps she is Director of a gymnastics facility, or a choreographer, or a coach at the national training centre.  Maybe she is living in the United States, working as a coach, or perhaps she still remains in her small apartment in Moscow, caring for her grandchildren.  None of this really matters, as Elena is living her life to the full.

But this Elena is a shadow, created of impressions of the person she might have become.   Elena, dancing gracefully across the floor mat; Elena, corkscrewing through the air high above the asymmetric bars; Elena, in motion.  Elena, the quiet girl with shy eyes who suddenly became a champion.  Elena, in silence, her spirit cocooned in a motionless body.

International gymnastics has suffered its share of tragedies over the years, not all of them in the Soviet Union or Russia.  Elena’s accident, however, has attracted the most attention.  Coaches have been vilified.  The whole episode is considered to characterise the Soviet Union’s gymnastics system.  The mantra ‘win at all costs’.  There have been too many other tragedies in the sport, all of them equally difficult for families and friends.  Blame is often cast about, but rarely has there been such continuing innuendo and guilt as that associated with the long, slow death of Elena Mukhina.    

At the time of Elena’s accident, the Soviet Union team was trying to recover its leading position in world gymnastics.  Nadia Comaneci was reigning Olympic and European Champion, and Romania were World team champions.   Romania’s national coaches, Bela and Marta Karolyi, had trained their gymnasts to perform high levels of technical difficulty, leaving the lyrical Soviets looking as if they were standing still, marooned in a puddle of past glories.  Head coach Larissa Latynina was sacked after the 1976 Olympics and a new head coach – Aman Shaniazov – took her place.  Soviet gymnastics had anticipated the ‘new era’ of technical gymnastics that they now faced, with very young girls such as Natalia Shaposhnikova and Maria Filatova already figuring on national team rosters.  But the Soviet Union had lost its leading position in the sport for a while.  Considering the pressures that this introduced might help us to understand the mistakes that led to Elena’s accident. 

It’s easy to take the shorthand of Soviet sport : ‘victory at all costs’ and to gloss over its full meaning.  It is really only possible to begin to appreciate the amount of pressure under which coaches and athletes were working at that time, by looking backwards to another time of more pressure, when fierce reprisals were taken in the case of failure.  While these reprisals had been removed well before the time of Nadia Comaneci, they still rest heavily in Soviet sports history.  You will often read a gymnast saying that they didn’t have to sign anything to say they had to win.  But what was it like, competing for a country where the sporting philosophy was, literally, ‘win at all costs’?  As we consider the life of Elena Mukhina we might come to remember that the pressures were too great for the minds and bodies of the young girls who produced the all important victories.  That the coaches carried an impossible burden. 

 

 

'Our gymnasts were lifted in splendid isolation' - Munich, the arena and that victory platform

At this weekend’s European Championships the gymnasts sat, centre stage, in perfect isolation as they waited for their marks, to find out whether they merited a first, second or third place in the rankings.  Their routine might have been a disaster; it might have been a storming success.  No one broke down in tears, no one cracked under the pressure of attention – but there they sat, alone, the sole stars of the show.

 

In the same arena, fifty years ago, things had been somewhat different; a 17 year old gymnast called Olga Korbut had crumpled into tears after a flunked bars routine robbed her of a chance of an all around medal.  She grabbed a chair where she could and flung herself into it, curling herself into a self protecting ball.  The coaches made themselves scarce, and if my memory serves me well, Korbut was left alone, flanked by the East German gymnasts who happened to be sitting there.  Korbut’s tears were hers and hers alone and apart from the public around her, there was little visible sympathy or support. 

 

Later, Korbut met with her personal coach, Renald Knysh, who wasn’t part of the official delegation and could only see his mentee outside of the official arena.  He told her he knew that she would make that mistake; it was a silly mistake; but in a way, it didn’t matter, she would still serve her purpose and be a catalyst for immense change in the sport.  After that, Korbut hid herself away in her room for more than a day.  She recounts in her autobiography that eventually coach Larissa Latynina kindly accompanied her to the athlete’s village to have something to eat.

 

In a sense, what Knysh said came true.  Korbut was a catalyst for change; the sport was at a turning point.  Technical changes had been gradual up to that point; but Korbut’s roll, her somersault on the beam and her  loop on the bars were big, daring moves that created air around the apparatus, drew the eye and caught the breath as the gymnast leapt into hitherto inconceivable airborne contortions.  At the 1976 Olympics, Comaneci headed the charge towards further difficulty, especially in her bars and beam routines.  By the 1980 Olympics the Soviets had picked up the initiative again and double somersaults were common.  Whole new categories of flight elements had been invented (for example, the Tkachev, the Yurchenko) that formed the shape and framework of development and advancement over the following forty years.  There are still routines performed in the 1980s that carry more weight of originality and difficulty than some of those seen winning medals today.

 

There they sit, though, our 2022 medallists, heroes all of them.  And it’s a credit to the sport that they support each other and are so kind and respectful to each other when there is so much at stake, so much that is out of their hands and heads.  Those boundaries are difficult ones to negotiate, but I always think that our gymnasts behave themselves better around them than so often do our judges, coaches and officials.  But that thought is for another day.

 

What I will say today is that that roundel, set in the heart of the arena, embraces a greater change in gymnastics than we have seen in many a year.  Because there, we see the gymnasts elevated, their talents granted to them, their successes and failures given equal quantities of credit and support.  All those years earlier, the gymnasts were not there for themselves; they were there for the approval of the state and to realise the dreams of their peacock coaches.   Korbut’s innovations were Knysh’s innovations more than hers.  Genius coaches from the Soviet Union, coaches whose names you might recognise now – Rotstorotsky, Knysh, Karolyi – were written about respectfully in the press as if they were some kind of Svengali.  They and only they could create these new moves, performed so meekly by their young, vulnerable female apprentices.  There was Klimenko, Mametyev, Gavrichenkov … many others.  All of them were seen as the instigators of the originality rather than the gymnasts, the gymnasts the channel of their genius, an empty vessel to be filled with originality.  They felt no pain and gained little credit.  Grozdova, Yurchenko, Mukhina, Filatova, Naimushina, Davydova and more – they were all phenomenal gymnasts, but if they fell to the ground during a routine, the coach would turn his back; the gymnast had failed the coach.   

 

A few years ago I remember enjoying immensely an Instagram video posted by 2010 World team champion Tatiana Nabiyeva.    There she was, hanging in an ungainly attitude beneath the beam, struggling to find some kind of shape on top of the beam.  I can’t remember the exact words, but the caption said something like ‘originality and innovation’ and Tatiana and her teammate were laughing helplessly as she struggled to find her way with this brand new move she was in the process of inventing 😊.  As far as I know, the move never made it to the competition arena!  I remember the same spirit of adventure and fun when Tatiana landed her Amanar vault with an extra half twist – in other words, she did a triple twisting Yurchenko, not deliberately and not credited, but nevertheless it was big and it belonged to the gymnast who performed it.   I don’t think she ever repeated it, but nobody was hurt, and it was all good fun.

 

Gymnastics would never have become so interesting in the 1980s and beyond without the intellectual leadership of so many of the Soviet coaches, some Japanese coaches and a few others besides, but that interest came at a very high price.  I don’t at all think that Soviet coaches were evil geniuses – we have to remember that they lived at a time when women’s rights were less than well defined and ‘win at all costs’ was a global watchword in sports.  I don’t blame Russian coaches for the loss of agency that led to so much cruelty, poor coaching and abuse in worldwide gymnastics systems – that comes down to the ambition of the states who adopted what they believed was world beating practice.   But we definitely do need to move on and to grant agency to our gymnasts.  At the very least, they deserve to celebrate their achievements. 

 

The focus on the gymnast that we see at present is a step forward in acknowledging the athlete’s ownership of their own performance.  And that can only be a good thing.  Congratulations to all the gymnasts at the European Championships for such a joyful, fair competition.  If you got injured, I hope you recover well.  I’ll look forward to seeing the MAG perform this week, to the All Russian Spartakiade later this year and the World Championships in October.  Be joyful and brave and know we admire you.

Gymnastics has lost its innocence

Yesterday, Viktoria Listunova became the first Russian gymnast to lose a major title because of Russia’s ban from international sport.    It was the first time in my memory that at a European Championships the teams marched out, competed, and medals were awarded, all without my (still) beloved Russian team. 

 

I know that Russia, the state, is enacting an aggressive war on Ukraine.  Out of respect for Ukraine I cannot argue particularly strongly for a return of Russia to international sport.  There are arguments why this ban should not be in place; it is selective and targets Russia as a war monger whilst leaving other similar states untouched.  But this war knocks on our doors and our borders, touches our friends and changes our ways of life.  Whole Ukrainian cities have been destroyed.  Individual Russians too have lost their lives and their peace.  Ukrainian gymnasts cannot live and train at home, and have lost their dearest, their closest family and friends.  Their purpose, their way of life and unity is irreparably damaged by the bombs that rain down on them from their closest neighbour.  Russian gymnasts cannot train with full motivation, knowing that their efforts won’t be seen in the wider world.  Friendships and teams have been destroyed.  It is a tragedy.

 

There is no other way: in the largest sense, I support the ban.   I also support Ukraine, and I support those Russians who see this war for what it is and who find themselves trapped and unable to speak out, unable silently to protest or even just quietly live their lives as they wish.  I strongly suspect there are many of our Russian friends in gymnastics who wish that this war weren’t taking place, for better reasons than just that they want to be able to compete overseas. 

 

Will Russia ever find themselves welcomed into world sport again?  Certainly not until this war is over, I think, and that may be a long time.  Russia is shelling nuclear power plants close to Zaporozhe (my spelling of a much more complicated place name), home of 1989 World Champion Olga Strazheva.  The gymnasts and the coaches are suffering loss of life, limb, family and friends.  Even if the international sporting community decides to welcome Russia once more, how will Ukraine feel about it?  What will it be like, for example, the first time that Nikita Nagorny encounters Igor Radivilov in a training hall or on the competition floor?   (Frankly, though, I doubt that that will ever happen.)

 

So Russia has lost out in the gymnastics arena and Listunova, an adolescent who has known not much more than gymnastics all of her life, has lost her potential and her European title.  Thank God, the Ukrainian team will be able to compete at the World Championships, and make a case for a place at the Olympics, having qualified at yesterday’s team competition.  Today, the Junior Europeans take place, and that is yet another generation of Russians who are losing out, remaining cloistered, thanks to their state’s insistence on killing people, their state’s lack of respect for love and friendship.

 

Gymnastics will change forever because of their absence.  Not just the form of the sport, not just the quality of the performances, not just the morale of their rivals … but morally.  There is a loss of innocence in gymnastics.  The sweet face of Olga Korbut, in the very same arena as the European Championships is taking place, fifty years ago married the ideas of charm, vulnerability and friendship to the harsher ideas of Cold War and the Iron Curtain that kept distant our relationship with the Soviet Union and Russia.  The Romanian Revolution prompted the Soviet Union coaches to welcome Romanian gymnasts to their training centre to prepare for the 1989 World Championships, in an incredible act of friendship.  Soviet and Russian coaches shared their expertise and enabled the globalisation of the sport in the wake of the downfall of the Soviet regime post 1991.  We have seen the smiling face of Russia even as recently as 2014, when Russia began shelling Donetsk.  Russian gymnasts made a show of friendship with their close neighbours, Ukraine – remember Belyavski and Verniaiev binding their flags together and celebrating their medals?   

Yet since the most recent bloody incursion there has been no show of friendship, no reaching of the hand.  No Russian dare contradict the evil messages of their state. 

 

There has been a loss of innocence in gymnastics; we no longer know how to react to Russia’s isolation, and all we can do for Ukraine is support them, loudly.  State-sponsored doping makes us wonder if there ever really was a well meaning bone in the Russian sporting state’s body, even if that did not affect gymnastics.  Even if we worry about our friends in Moscow, St Petersburg, Ekaterinburg, Voronezh, Rostov, Kazan and elsewhere during this cruel, violent time.  American gymnastics has been shown to be corrupt from top to bottom, and many of our gymnastics systems have been forced to re-examine themselves.  But this is about bombs, blood and gristle.   Gymnastics has lost its innocence.