The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies

Also by Helen Jefferson Lenskyj

OLYMPIC INDUSTRY RESISTANCE: Challenging Olympic Power and Propaganda
A LOT TO LEARN: Girls, Women and Education in the 20th Century
OUT ON THE FIELD: Gender, Sport and Sexualities
THE BEST EVER OLYMPICS: Social Impacts of Sydney 2000
INSIDE THE OLYMPIC INDUSTRY: Power, Politics and Activism
WOMEN, SPORT AND PHYSICAL ACTIVITY: Selected Research Themes
WOMEN, SPORT AND PHYSICAL ACTIVITY: Research and Bibliography
OUT OF BOUNDS: Women, Sport and Sexuality

Also by Stephen Wagg

THE NEW POLITICS OF LEISURE AND PLEASURE (co-edited)
THE SOCIAL FACES OF HUMOUR (co-edited)
BECAUSE I TELL A JOKE OR TWO: Comedy, Politics and Social Difference (edited)
BRITISH FOOTBALL AND SOCIAL EXCLUSION (edited)
CRICKET AND NATIONAL IDENTITY IN THE POST-COLONIAL ERA:
Following On (edited )
EAST PLAYS WEST: Essays on Sport and the Cold War (co-edited )
AMATEURISM IN BRITISH SPORT: It Matters Not Who Won or Lost? (co-edited )
KEY CONCEPTS IN SPORT STUDIES (co-authored )
SPORT, LEISURE AND CULTURE IN THE POSTMODERN CITY (co-edited )
SPORTING HEROES OF THE NORTH (co-edited )
MYTHS AND MILESTONES IN THE HISTORY OF SPORT (edited)
The Palgrave Handbook of
Olympic Studies
Edited by

Helen Jefferson Lenskyj

University of Toronto, Canada

and

Stephen Wagg
Leeds Metropolitan University, UK
Selection and editorial matter © Helen Jefferson Lenskyj and Stephen Wagg 2012
Individual chapters © their respective authors 2012
Softcover reprint of the hardcover 1st edition 2012 978-0-230-24653-9
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Contents

The Writers ix

Introduction 1
Helen Jefferson Lenskyj, University of Toronto, Canada and
Stephen Wagg, Leeds Metropolitan University, UK

Part I The Modern Olympics: Pre-history

1 The Ancient Olympics and the Modern: Mirror
and Mirage 15
Mark Golden, University of Winnipeg, Canada

2 Pierre de Coubertin: Man and Myth 26

Dikaia Chatziefstathiou, Canterbury Christ Church University, UK

Part II The Olympics: Case Studies

3 The 1904 Olympic Games: Triumph or Nadir? 43
David Lunt, Southern Utah University, and Mark Dyreson,
Pennsylvania State University, USA

4 The Nazi Olympics: Berlin 1936 60

David Clay Large, Montana State University, USA

5 The Early Cold War Olympics, 1952–1960: Political, Economic

and Human Rights Dimensions 72
Barbara Keys, University of Melbourne, Australia

6 The Winter Olympics: Geography Is Destiny? 88

Helen Jefferson Lenskyj, University of Toronto, Canada

7 Olympic Tales from the East: Tokyo 1964, Seoul 1988 and
Beijing 2008 103
John Horne, University of Central Lancashire, UK and
Wolfram Manzenreiter, University of Vienna, Austria

8 The XXI Olympiad: Canada’s Claim or Montreal’s Gain?:

Political and Social Tensions Surrounding the 1976
Montreal Olympics 120
Terrence Teixeira, Independent Scholar, Canada

v
vi Contents

9 A Gold Medal for the Market: The 1984 Los Angeles Olympics,
the Reagan Era, and the Politics of Neoliberalism 134
Rick Gruneau and Robert Neubauer, Simon Fraser University, Canada

10 A Source of Crisis?: Assessing Athens 2004 163

John Karamichas, Queen’s University, Belfast

11 Bringing the Mountains into the City: Legacy of the Winter

Olympics, Turin 2006 178
Egidio Dansero and Alfredo Mela, University of Turin, Italy

12 The Social and Spatial Impacts of Olympic Image Construction:

The Case of Beijing 2008 195
Anne-Marie Broudehoux, University of Quebec at Montreal, Canada

13 Living Lula’s Passion?: The Politics of Rio 2016 210

Bryan C. Clift, University of Maryland, USA and
David L. Andrews, University of Maryland, USA

Part III The Olympics: Disciplines

14 The Making – and Unmaking? – of the Olympic Corporate Class 233
Alan Tomlinson, Brighton University, UK

15 The Economics and Marketing of the Olympic Games from

Bid Phase to Aftermath 248
Christopher A. Shaw, University of British Columbia, Canada

16 The Rings and the Box: Television Spectacle and the Olympics 261
Garry Whannel, University of Bedfordshire, UK

17 The Olympic Movement’s New Media Revolution: Monetisation,

Open Media and Intellectual Property 274
Andy Miah and Jennifer Jones, University of the West of Scotland

18 Myth, Heritage and the Olympic Enterprise 289

Toby C. Rider, Pennsylvania State University, Berks, and
Kevin B. Wamsley, University of Western Ontario, Canada

19 The Olympics, the Law and the Contradictions of Olympism 304

Steve Greenfield, University of Westminster, Mark James,
University of Salford, and Guy Osborn, University of Westminster, UK

Part IV The Olympics: Social and Political Issues

20 Tilting at Windmills? Olympic Politics and the Spectre of
Amateurism 321
Stephen Wagg, Leeds Metropolitan University, UK
 Contents vii

21 Celebrate Humanity: Cultural Citizenship and the Global

Branding of ‘Multiculturalism’ 337
Michael D. Giardina, Florida State University, Jennifer L. Metz,
Towson University, and Kyle S. Bunds, Florida State University, USA

22 The Paralympic Movement: Empowerment or

Disempowerment for People with Disabilities? 358
Otto J. Schantz, University of Koblenz-Landau, Germany, and
Keith Gilbert, University of East London, UK

23 The Olympics and the Environment 381

John Karamichas, Queen’s University, Belfast

24 Securing the Olympic Games: Exemplifications

of Global Governance 394
Philip Boyle, Newcastle University, UK

25 The Use of Performance-enhancing Substances in the Olympic

Games: A Critical History 410
Ian Ritchie, Brock University, Canada

26 The Olympic Industry and Women: An Alternative Perspective 430

Helen Jefferson Lenskyj, University of Toronto, Canada

27 Disciplining Sex: ‘Gender Verification’ Policies and Women’s

Sport 443
Jaime Schultz, University of Maryland, USA

28 The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name: Corruption and
the Olympics 461
Andrew Jennings, Freelance Writer, UK

29 ‘There Will Be No Law That Will Come Against Us’:

An Important Episode of Indigenous Resistance and
Activism in Olympic History 474
Christine M. O’Bonsawin, University of Victoria, Canada

30 The Olympics and Indigenous Peoples: Australia 487

Toni Bruce, University of Waikato, and Emma Wensing,
Independent Scholar, Australia

31 The Olympics: East London’s Renewal and Legacy 505

Gavin Poynter, University of East London, UK

32 The Olympic Games and Housing 520

Hazel Blunden, University of Western Sydney

33 Anti-Olympic Campaigns 533

Konstantinos Zervas, Leeds Metropolitan University, UK
viii Contents

Part V The Olympics: For and Against

34 The Olympics: Why We Should Value Them 551
Ian Henry, Loughborough University, UK

35 The Case Against the Olympic Games: The Buck Stops

with the IOC 570
Helen Jefferson Lenskyj, University of Toronto, Canada

Index 580
The Writers

Helen Jefferson Lenskyj is a Professor Emerita at the University of Toronto,

Canada, where she had worked since 1986. A leading academic researcher on
the Olympics, she has authored three books on the Games, the most recent of
which is Olympic Industry Resistance: Challenging Olympic Power and Propaganda
(SUNY, 2008). Her other critiques of the Olympic industry include: The Best
Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of Sydney 2000 (2002); and Inside the Olympic
Industry: Power, Politics, and Activism (2000).
Stephen Wagg is a Professor in the Carnegie Faculty of Leeds Metropolitan
University in the UK. He has edited a number of books on sport and society,
including East Plays West: Sport and the Cold War (Routledge, 2006, with
David Andrews) and Myths and Milestones in the History of Sport (Palgrave
Macmillan, 2011).
Mark Golden is Professor of Classics at the University of Winnipeg in Canada,
where he has worked since 1982. He is the author of Sport and Society in Ancient Greece
(Cambridge University Press, 1998), Sport in the Ancient World from A to Z (Routledge,
2003) and Greek Sport and Social Status (University of Texas Press, 2008).
Dikaia Chatziefstathiou is a Senior Lecturer in Sociology of Sport and Leisure
at Canterbury Christ Church University in the UK. In 2009 she was awarded
the first Pierre de Coubertin Prize for Olympic Research.
David Lunt completed his PhD on ‘Athletes, Heroes, and the Quest for
Immortality in Ancient Greece’ at Pennsylvania State University in the United
States in 2010. He now works as an Adjunct Instructor teaching History and
Classics at Southern Utah University in the USA.
Mark Dyreson is Professor of Kinesiology at Pennsylvania State University.
He is the author of Making the American Team: Sport, Culture and the Olympic
Experience (University of Illinois Press, 1998) and Crafting Patriotism: America at
the Olympic Games (Routledge, 2008).
David Clay Large is Professor of History at Montana State University in
the United States and the author of Berlin (2000) and Where Ghosts Walked:
Munich’s Road to the Third Reich (1997). His book Nazi Games: The Olympics of
1936 was published by W.W. Norton in 2007.
Barbara Keys is a Senior Lecturer in History at the University of Melbourne
in Australia. Her book Globalizing Sport: National Rivalry and International
Community in the 1930s was published by Harvard University Press in 2006.

ix
x The Writers

John Horne is Professor of Sport and Sociology and Director of the International
Research Institute for Sport Studies (IRiSS), School of Sport, Tourism and the
Outdoors, University of Central Lancashire in the UK. His books include
Understanding the Olympics, with Garry Whannel (Routledge, 2002), Sports Mega-
events: Social Scientific Analyses of a Global Phenomenon (Blackwell, 2006), Football
Goes East: Business, Culture and the People’s Game in China, Japan and Korea, edited
with Wolfram Manzenreiter (Routledge, 2004) and Japan, Korea and the 2002
World Cup (Routledge, 2002), edited with Wolfram Manzenreiter.

Wolfram Manzenreiter is Associate Professor at the Department of East Asian

Studies, University of Vienna. He has published extensively on sport in East Asia.
His most recent books explore the role of football in the governance of Europe
(2008) and the political economy of sports and the body in Japan (2012).

Terrence Teixeira is an independent scholar, based in Toronto, Canada.

Rick Gruneau is a Professor in the School of Communication at Simon Fraser

University in Burnaby, Canada. A second edition of his book Class, Sports
and Social Development was published by Human Kinetics Press in 1999. He
is co-author (with David Whitson) of Hockey Night in Canada: Sport, Identities
and Cultural Politics (1993), co-author (with Robert Hackett) of The Missing
News: Filters and Blind Spots in Canada’s Press (2000), and co-editor (with David
Whitson) of Artificial Ice: Hockey, Commerce and Culture (2006).

Robert Neubauer is a doctoral student in Communication at Simon Fraser

University.

John Karamichas is a lecturer in Sociology at Queen’s University, Belfast in

Northern Ireland. His books include Olympic Games, Mega-events and Civil
Societies: Globalisation, Environment and Resistance (with Graeme Hayes, Palgrave
Macmillan, 2011), and Environmental Sociology (with Iosif Botetzagias, in Greek:
Kritiki, 2008).

Egidio Dansero is Professor of Political and Economic Geography at the

University of Turin and member of OMERO (Olympics and Mega Events
Research Observatory) at the University of Turin in Italy.

Alfredo Mela is Professor of Urban Sociology at the Polytechnic of Turin and

member of OMERO (Olympics and Mega Events Research Observatory) at the
University of Turin.

Anne-Marie Broudehoux is an Associate Professor in the School of Design at

the University of Quebec at Montreal, Canada. Her book, The Making and Selling
of Post-Mao Beijing, was published by Routledge in 2004.

Bryan C. Clift is a doctoral student in the Physical Cultural Studies program in the
Department of Kinesiology at the University of Maryland in the United States.
 The Writers xi

David L. Andrews is a Professor in the Department of Kinesiology at the

University of Maryland. He has written widely on sport under late capitalism.

Alan Tomlinson is Professor of Leisure Studies and Director of Research in the

Centre for Sport Research, Chelsea School, University of Brighton, UK. His recent
publications include National Identity and Global Sports Events: Culture, Politics
and Spectacle in the Olympics and the Football World Cup, edited with Christopher
Young (State University of New York Press, 2006) and Watching the Olympics:
Politics, Power and Representation, edited with John Sugden (Routledge, 2011).

Christopher A. Shaw is a Professor of Ophthalmology and Visual Sciences at

the University of British Columbia in Canada. He is a leading anti-Olympic
activist, having been a founding member and leading spokesperson for the No
Games 2010 Coalition and 2010 Watch. He is the author of Five Ring Circus:
Myths and Realities of the Olympic Games (New Society, 2008).

Garry Whannel is Professor of Media Cultures at the University of Bedfordshire

in the UK. His books include Fields in Vision: Television Sport and Cultural
Transformation (1992), Media Sport Stars, Masculinities, and Moralities (2002),
and Culture, Politics and Sport (2008), all published by Routledge, and, with
John Horne, Understanding the Olympics (2011).

Andy Miah is Professor of Ethics and Emerging Technologies and Director of the
Creative Futures Research Centre at the University of the West of Scotland. He is
author of Genetically Modified Athletes (2004), The Medicalization of Cyberspace
(2008) and Editor of Human Futures: Art in an Age of Uncertainty (2008).

Jennifer Jones is a PhD associate at the Creative Futures Research Centre at the
University of the West of Scotland.

Toby C. Rider is Assistant Professor in Kinesiology at Pennsylvania State

University, Berks, USA.

Kevin B. Wamsley is Professor and Associate Dean in the Faculty of Health

Sciences at the University of Western Ontario. He is former Director of the
International Centre for Olympic Studies and co-edited Global Olympics:
Historical and Sociological Studies of the Modern Games.

Steve Greenfield is a Senior Academic in the Department of Academic Legal

Studies at the University of Westminster in the UK. He is co-editor of Law and Sport
in Contemporary Society (Routledge, 2000), co-author of Regulating Football (Pluto,
2001) and a Founding Editor of the Entertainment and Sports Law Journal.

Mark James is Reader in Law and Director of the Salford Centre of Legal Research
at the University of Salford in the UK. He is the author of Sports Law (Palgrave
Macmillan, 2010) and an Editor of the Entertainment and Sports Law Journal.
xii The Writers

Guy Osborn is Professor of Law in the Department of Advanced Legal Studies

at the University of Westminster in the UK. He is co-editor of Law and Sport in
Contemporary Society (Routledge, 2000), co-author of Regulating Football (Pluto,
2001) and a Founding Editor of the Entertainment and Sports Law Journal.

Michael D. Giardina is Assistant Professor of Sport Management at Florida State

University. He is the author or editor of a dozen books, including Sport, Spectacle,
and NASCAR Nation: Consumption and the Cultural Politics of Neoliberalism (with
Joshua I. Newman; Palgrave Macmillan, 2011).

Jennifer L. Metz is an Assistant Professor of Sport Management at Towson

University. Her research interests include gender, motherhood and advertising
in sport.

Kyle S. Bunds is a doctoral candidate in the Department of Sport Management

at Florida State University.

Keith Gilbert is a Professor in the School of Health, Sport and Bioscience at the
University of East London in the UK and Director of the Centre for Disability,
Sport and Health. He has edited several books, including Paralympic Legacies,
with David Legg (Commonground Publishing, 2011).

Otto J. Schantz is a Professor of Cultural Studies and the Head of the

Department of Sport Science at the University of Koblenz-Landau in Germany.
With Keith Gilbert he edited The Paralympic Games: Empowerment or Side Show?
(Meyer and Meyer, 2008).

Philip Boyle holds a PhD in Sociology from the University of Alberta and
is currently a Research Associate with the Global Urban Research Unit at
Newcastle University, UK.

Ian Ritchie is an Associate Professor in the Faculty of Applied Health Sciences

at Brock University in Canada. With Rob Beamish he is the author of Fastest,
Highest, Strongest: A Critique of High-Performance Sport (Routledge, 2006).

Jaime Schultz is an Assistant Professor in Kinesiology at Pennsylvania State

University in the USA and is the author of From Sex Testing to Sports Bras: Gender,
Technology and US Women’s Sport (University of Illinois Press, forthcoming).

Andrew Jennings is a freelance writer and investigative reporter, based in

the UK. His book The Lords of the Rings: Power, Money and Drugs in the Modern
Olympics (with Vyv Simson; Simon and Schuster, 1992) was listed by Sports
Illustrated as one of the Top One Hundred Sports Books of all Time. His other
books include The New Lords of the Rings (Pocket Books, 1996) and The Great
Olympic Swindle (with Clare Sambrook; Simon and Schuster, 2000).
 The Writers xiii

Christine M. O’Bonsawin is an Assistant Professor in the Department of

History at the University of Victoria, Canada, where she teaches the History of
the Modern Olympic Games and an Introduction to Indigenous Studies.
Toni Bruce is a professor at the University of Auckland in New Zealand.
Emma Wensing is an independent scholar, based in Australia.
Gavin Poynter is a Professor in the School of Humanities and Social Sciences at
the University of East London in the UK and Chair of the London East Research
Institute. With Iain MacRury, he edited Olympic Cities and the Reshaping of
London (Ashgate, 2009).
Hazel Blunden has written and campaigned on a number of housing issues.
She works as a researcher and tutor at the Urban Research Centre at the
University of Western Sydney in Sydney, Australia.
Konstantinos Zervas carried out doctoral research on anti-Olympic move-
ments in the Carnegie Faculty at Leeds Metropolitan University between 2008
and 2010.
Ian Henry is Professor of Leisure Policy and Management and Director of the
Centre for Olympic Studies and Research at Loughborough University in the UK.
Introduction
Helen Jefferson Lenskyj and Stephen Wagg

Scholarly writing on the Olympic Games has diversified quite dramatically in

the last 25 years or so. Time was when this writing was mostly done by people
(invariably male) who might be characterised as ‘in-house’ – that’s to say, they
were close to and broadly in sympathy with the Olympic movement and its
aims. Their work tended to explore in detail the history of the modern Olympics
(and particularly the life and work of their chief architect, Pierre de Coubertin)
or to ruminate on its changing philosophy; it would be aired at conferences and
in specialist journals such as Olympika or the Olympic Review; it invariably cele-
brated the Olympics and its writers themselves would often be Olympic officials
in their respective countries. Even those critical of some Olympic orthodoxies
have nevertheless remained supportive of the modern Olympics. David Young,
Professor of Classics at Florida State University, is a case in point. A veteran scep-
tic of Coubertin’s role and of his claims to have launched an authentic revival
of the original Games in ancient Greece (see Mark Golden’s chapter in this
book), he nevertheless gave a speech at the Greek Embassy in Washington DC
in March 2001, welcoming the award of the 2004 Summer Games to Athens.1
In general, discussion would be concerned with the what of past Olympic policy
and politicking and the whither of Olympic practice and values; it seldom inter-
rogated the Olympics as a social and political phenomenon or touched the
question of whether the Olympics were ‘a good thing’.
But among the growing number of academic critics of the Olympic Games
and of the International Olympic Committee (IOC) in the last three decades,
a priori approval of what is nevertheless the world’s premier sport spectacle
could no longer be taken for granted; indeed, the Olympics’ mammoth global
audience notwithstanding, it may now represent a minority opinion among
scholars. This is attributable to two basic factors: political changes in the
Olympic movement (all effectively charted in this book) and the adoption of
correspondingly more critical perspectives – again, amply represented in this
book – among scholars who have chronicled and analysed Olympic affairs.

1
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
2 Introduction

So this book is intended to fill a long-standing gap both in the sub-field of

Olympic Studies as well as in the history and sociology of sport in general.
The contributors to this collection all bring a critical lens to their analyses
of historical and contemporary themes and key social and political issues
related to the Olympic Games in local, national and international contexts. In
addition to examining these developments, the book presents case studies of
selected Summer and Winter Olympic Games that have had particular signifi-
cance for the overall history and development of this mega-event.
Contributors have approached the study of the Olympics from a range of
theoretical perspectives, most notably those influenced by Marxism, socialism,
feminism and post-modernism. In the simplest terms, questions of ‘Who pays?’
and ‘Who benefits?’ are fundamental to many of these analyses, with social
costs to host countries and impacts on human rights among the key areas for
consideration.
The critical Olympic scholars whose work is included in this volume are
drawn principally from the United Kingdom, Canada, the United States and
Australia, together with others from Italy, Greece, Germany, Austria and New
Zealand. Within their number are many who identify themselves both as activ-
ists and academics (as well as some from other professions such as law), and
their contributions add fresh perspectives and insights. In order to develop
these critical analyses, our contributors engage with debates within social the-
ory and historiography, influenced in various ways by developments of the last
three decades within the interdisciplinary fields of gender studies, critical race
studies, transnational feminisms, cultural studies and globalisation studies.
As some sport scholars have observed, organised sport in general and the
Olympics in particular have largely avoided the kind of rigorous sociologi-
cal scrutiny that has been successfully applied to most other fields of human
social activity and popular culture.2 As a result, there is a comparative dearth
of publications that develop critical analyses of the Olympic movement as a
multinational phenomenon with significant social, political, environmental
and human rights implications for its 204 member countries and territories, as
well as for the ‘global village’.
The IOC asserts explicitly in its Charter that it is ‘the moral authority for
world sport’ and has ‘supreme authority’ over the staging of the Games and
the management of Olympic intellectual property. With this power, the IOC,
operating through host cities’ organising committees, overrules domestic
policy and law in the name of world sport – one of many far-reaching political
consequences of hosting the Olympic Games.
As early as 1976, French sport critic Jean-Marie Brohm identified the threats
posed by the Olympic Games and its part in the bigger ‘capitalist sports indus-
try’. Brohm called for ‘anti-Olympic propaganda and agitation on the basis of
the principles of proletarian internationalism . . . to expose the machinations
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj and Stephen Wagg 3

of bourgeois states against the oppressed classes and peoples’.3 Many of

Brohm’s predictions have been borne out in subsequent Olympic Games,
exemplified by the $1 billion debt that Montreal incurred the same year as his
ground-breaking publication.
The contributors to the 1984 volume titled Five Ring Circus, edited by Alan
Tomlinson and Garry Whannel, were pioneers of more sceptical Olympic
Studies and this book paved the way for the small number of later publications
that took a critical approach to Olympic issues.4 More recent books include
three anthologies — Post Olympics? Questioning Sport in the Twenty-first Century
(Bale and Christenson, 2004),5 Global Olympics: Historical and Sociological Studies
of the Modern Olympic Games (Wamsley and Young, 2005),6 and Politics of the
Olympics: A Survey (Molnar and Bairner, 2010)7 – and two single-authored
books, Olympic Industry Resistance (Lenskyj, 2002) and Inside the Olympic
Industry (Lenskyj, 2000).8 Some other recent publications have critiqued spe-
cific Olympics: Rutheiser on Atlanta 1996,9 Lenskyj on Sydney 2000,10 and
Shaw on Vancouver 2010.11 Anthologies that analyse hallmark events and
have specific chapters on the Olympics include The Planning and Evaluation
of Hallmark Events (Syme, Shaw, Fenton and Mueller, 1989)12 and Sport Mega-
events (Horne and Manzenreiter, 2006).13
Outside of academic research, investigative journalists Andrew Jennings and
Vyv Simson have between them published three successful trade books (1992,
1996, 2000) exposing bribery and corruption in the International Olympic
Committee (IOC), with their 1992 publication The Lords of the Rings accurately
foreshadowing the public disclosures of bribery in 1998–99.14 And a rare critical
voice in sports journalism is American author and columnist Dave Zirin.15
Many of the books that presented broad critical overviews of the Olympics –
for example, Espy (1979), Hoberman (1986), Hill (1996) and Senn (1999)16 –
appeared before two significant historical events: the aforementioned IOC
bribery scandal of 1998–99 and the September 2001 terrorist attacks on the
United States (and subsequent security implications for Olympic host cities).
Moreover, the last two decades have witnessed the continued impacts of glo-
balization, the concentration of wealth in western countries, and growing gaps
between rich and poor. The November 1999 Seattle protest against the World
Trade Organization marked the first of a continuing series of anti-globalisation
campaigns, and the convergence of anti-Olympic and anti-globalisation protest
movements. Consideration of this global context is crucial to an understanding
of Olympic-related issues including corporate sponsorships, the sport–media
complex, impacts on housing and homelessness, environmentally sustainable
development and resistance movements.
In the aftermath of the bribery scandal and subsequent investigations, the
IOC made some attempts at reform, as well as putting more effort into trans-
parency and accountability. At the same time, it relied on its well-funded
4 Introduction

public relations machinery and the public’s short attention span to relegate
these events to past history. Neither the bribery scandal nor the mounting
security budgets appeared to dampen cities’ enthusiasm for preparing increas-
ingly costly bids – $US49m in the case of Chicago’s failed bid for the 2016
Summer Olympics. In hindsight, the Olympic rings might be characterised as
Teflon-coated rather than tarnished, and fierce competition among bidding
cities has continued unabated since the purported profit generated by the 1984
Olympics in Los Angeles.
Following the attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon in 2001,
every host city was compelled to enhance its security plan, with these costs
escalating to the point where the Vancouver 2010 Winter Games incurred a
budget of close to $US1 billion on security, in contrast to the Sydney 2000
figure of about $US117 million for that city’s much bigger Summer Games
ten years earlier. Organising committees and elected representatives can now
invoke ‘security’ as a rationale for legislation that threatens basic human rights
and civil liberties in the host city, most notably freedom of speech and freedom
of assembly. Nor is it a coincidence that legislation of this kind also prevents
ambush marketing (the gate-crashing of a sponsored event by a rival sponsor),
sanitises the city’s image as a tourist and business destination, and provides a
rationale for law-and-order politicians to criminalise homelessness and pov-
erty. In fact, this trend was established long before the 2001 terrorist attacks.
By 1998, two years after Atlanta had hosted the Summer Games, legislation
promoting the privatisation of public urban space had spread to more than 50
American cities.17 Despite the popular media conception of Beijing as the prime
example of human rights violations perpetrated in the name of Olympic sport,
events in Vancouver before and during the 2010 Winter Olympics provide evi-
dence of the same approach.18

The organisation of this book

The opening section is concerned with what we have called the ‘pre-history’ of
the modern Olympics and consists of two chapters. In the first Mark Golden
explores an ever-flourishing theme in Olympic Studies – the relationship
between the ancient and the modern Olympics and the way, to borrow his own
words, that ‘the past is generally invoked only for the purposes of the present’.
In the second, the life and work of Baron Pierre de Coubertin – another popu-
lar preoccupation among Olympic scholars – is explored by leading authority
Dikaia Chatziefstathiou who presents Coubertin, among other things, as a
‘social marketer’.
Section Two consists largely of a series of case studies of individual Games. In
Chapter 3 the American historians David Lunt and Mark Dyreson describe the
third modern Olympics and the first to be held on US soil – at St Louis in 1904.
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj and Stephen Wagg 5

The St Louis Olympics were dominated by American nationalism (celebrat-

ing the centenary of the Louisiana Purchase19) and ‘race’ science – a number
of events were designed to demonstrate which racial group represented the
best ‘human type’. The authors assess the judgment of the historian C. Robert
Barnett that the St Louis Olympics were ‘bathed in nationalism, ethnocen-
trism, controversy, confusion, boosterism, and bad taste’. In the following
chapter David Clay Large draws on his recent book to describe possibly the
most controversial Olympics of all: Berlin 1936. Once again, racism is an
important subtext, but these were also the first Olympics to be staged as a
media spectacle and the first to be subject to a significant boycott campaign.
Then, in Chapter Five Barbara Keys discusses the early impact of the Cold War
on the Olympics, following the surprise enrolment of the Soviet Union in the
late 1940s and their first participation in the Games in 1952. At both the 1956
Games in Melbourne and in Rome in 1960, the USSR outperformed its ideologi-
cal rivals the United States in the gold medal table.
Next Helen Jefferson Lenskyj discusses the politics of the Winter Olympics,
arguing that they warrant (although they have generally lacked) the same level
of scrutiny as the Summer Games. As she points out, many of the issues that
attend the Summer Olympics apply equally to the Winter ones, with ‘geography
operating as a key variable’, and, in some contexts, as a rationale for racism.
The next chapter, by John Horne and Wolfram Manzenreiter, analyses the
relationship between East Asian societies and the Olympic Movement, look-
ing at the respective circumstances in which the cities of Tokyo (1964), Seoul
(1988) and Beijing came to solicit and to stage the Summer Olympic Games.
Here they raise the now-crucial and widely discussed matter of the material
legacy of the Olympics. In a remark that foreshadows much of the remainder
of the book, they observe that: ‘between the Olympiads of Tokyo 1964, Seoul
1988 and Beijing 2008, the Olympics have come to serve multiple interests …’.
The issue of material legacy looms large in the subsequent chapter, by Terrence
Teixeira, which discusses the Montreal Olympics of 1976. As Teixeira com-
ments, this Olympics is ‘remembered for its billion-dollar debt rather than its
electric 15 days of sport’. It took the city of Montreal over 30 years to clear the
debts incurred through holding the Olympics of 1976 and these Games may be
seen as a watershed in political opinion on the Olympics. The issue of exces-
sive public expenditure had already been raised in Mexico over the Games of
1968; now opposition to the Games began to harden and it is, perhaps, not
surprising that the most telling critiques of the Olympic project have often
been mounted in Canada.
Beside providing the Canadian political context for Montreal 1976, Teixeira’s
essay sets the scene for the subsequent chapter, by Rick Gruneau and Robert
Neubauer. The financial debacle of Montreal deterred most cities from bidding
for the next Olympics. Moscow and Los Angeles, effectively the two Cold War
6 Introduction

superpowers, were the only contenders to put on the Olympics in 1980 and
Los Angeles the sole candidate for 1984. The Olympics of 1984 were the first to
be signed over in their entirety to an organising committee and the first to be
run for profit. Gruneau and Neubauer now chart the rise to dominance of the
political and economic philosophy of neo-liberalism, championed in the United
States during the presidency of Ronald Reagan, and demonstrate how the
Olympics of 1984 became a showcase for neo-liberalism and a paradigm, there-
fore, for future Games. This chapter, aside from a case study of LA84, is thus a
valuable exposition of the economics of contemporary Olympism.
In Chapter Ten, the Greek sociologist John Karamichas assesses Athens 2004,
principally from the standpoint of the ongoing primacy of the Olympics in
Greek national life and the widespread contention that staging the Olympics
in 2004 was a major factor in the financial crisis that engulfed the Greek state
later in the decade. Chapter 11, written by two Italian academics, Egidio Dansero
and Alfredo Mela, provides a critical analysis of the Winter Olympics in Turin
in 2006. It pursues the theme of legacy, particularly in relation to the environ-
ment, and sets out the importance of these Games in sealing the transition of
Turin from Fordist to post-Fordist city.
Chapters 12 and 13 bring the politics of the Olympics as a mega-event up
to date. In Chapter 12 Anne-Marie Broudehoux, a specialist in the study of
environmental design, outlines the strategy devised for Beijing in 2008 by the
Chinese authorities. The People’s Republic of China is, of course, a modern
paradox – still governed by the Communist Party but since the 1970s increas-
ingly wedded to a capitalist programme of rapid economic growth. Broudehoux
shows how the Games of 2008 were an exercise in government-controlled
image-making – both visual, with emphasis placed on shiny, new buildings,
and social, amid concerted official efforts to portray contemporary China as
a harmonious society, despite its growing inequalities. The closing chapter of
this section, by Bryan C. Clift and David L. Andrews, provides a thorough-
going account of how Rio de Janeiro came to be awarded the Summer Games
for 2016. Major factors here were the desire of the Brazilian government,
principally under the leadership of President Luiz Inácio Lula (since retired), to
present Brazil, like China, as an important new player on the world economic
stage and, secondly, the employment of a team of seasoned Olympic strategists
to fashion a favourable ‘narrative’ for Brazil in the Rio bid.
Section Three of the book is organised around the relationship of Olympic
Studies to specific academic disciplines. The first chapter, by Alan Tomlinson,
falls broadly in the field of sociology and details the steady rise since the Second
World War of what Tomlinson calls a ‘corporate class’ of entrepreneurs with
designs on the Olympics. The chief instigator here was Horst Dassler, effectively
the founding father of sport sponsorship, whose own father had founded the
Adidas running-shoe company. From 1984 onward the International Olympic
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj and Stephen Wagg 7

Committee became increasingly dependent on this corporate class, styled

in Olympic discourse as ‘partners’, for sponsorship. Tomlinson discusses the
current state of the relationship between the IOC and this corporate class. The
next chapter, by Christopher A. Shaw, relates primarily to economics and
specifically the costs likely to be incurred by a city from the time it bids for an
Olympics through the post-Games period, during which ‘legacy’ is being cal-
culated. Shaw draws principally on the bid by the Canadian city of Vancouver
to host the Winter Olympics of 2010 and on his own, first-hand experience of
the campaign to oppose this bid.
The following two chapters approach the Olympics from the standpoint of
media studies. In the first of these, Garry Whannel, who, as we have noted,
was, with Alan Tomlinson, one of the pioneers of critical Olympic Studies,
argues that the importance of the Olympics is primarily as a television show.
This is, first, because the popularity of the Olympics as a spectacle far exceeds
the popularity of any of its constituent sports and, second, because, while
40 per cent of IOC income now comes from sponsorship, half of it consists
of TV revenue. This chapter charts the rise of the Olympics as a television
phenomenon. Next, Andy Miah and Jennifer Jones chart and analyse the
burgeoning relationship between the Olympics and the new media. They
make clear the importance to the IOC of online access to the Games and indi-
cate the growing currency of terms like ‘the Twitter Olympics’.
Chapter 18, by Toby C. Rider and Kevin B. Wamsley, is essentially about his-
tory and, more specifically, about the way in which the leaders of the Olympic
movement have ‘managed’ their own history. The Olympic movement, they
argue, has carefully and continually re-fashioned its own myths – here under-
stood, following Barthes20 and Calder 21 to mean assertions about history that
are moved, by the people propounding them, beyond rational enquiry or
discussion. The IOC, they argue, has been carefully tacking to the changing
economic and political winds since its inception in the 1890s. How else, they
ask, ‘could a century-old cultural institution, rooted in intellectual and physical
elitism, sustain a position of global significance in such a markedly changed
world’? The final chapter of this section, written by Steve Greenfield, Mark
James and Guy Osborn, concerns law and its contemporary relationship to
the Olympic Games. The writers make a case study of the forthcoming London
Olympics of 2012, for which the organisers have procured far-reaching, legally
protected exclusivities. The use of a range of specified words, going well beyond
the expectable ‘Olympic’ and ‘Games’, will be prohibited, as will be the selling
of non-sanctioned merchandise or the expression of non-sanctioned sentiments
in the vicinity of the Games. Conversely, the promise of the organising commit-
tee to bring lasting and beneficial legacies to London is not legally enforceable.
Legislation of this kind was first passed in Australia to protect the ‘partners’ of
the Sydney Olympics in 2000.
8 Introduction

There then follows a lengthy section in which the Games are discussed in
relation to a range of social and political issues, beginning with what, for the
Olympics, is probably the most historically significant – amateurism. Here,
Stephen Wagg¸ in an analysis wholly compatible with the one presented by
Rider and Wamsley in Chapter 18, charts the changing place of ‘amateurism’ –
seldom more than a chimera – in Olympic rhetoric. In his view, its main func-
tion, historically, has been to help define and entrench the ‘Olympic brand’.
Chapter 21 is about ‘race’ and ethnicity and their implications for
contemporary Olympic discourse. Michael D. Giardina, Jennifer L. Metz
and Kyle S. Bunds discuss the ‘Celebrate Humanity’ advertising campaigns
mounted on behalf of the IOC during the first decade of the 20th century. They
contend that the imagery and rhetoric of these campaigns work to exclude the
notion of different cultures and ethnicities in the world and all the concomi-
tant conflicts and patterns of exploitation. Any concept of a ‘multicultural’
globe is flattened out and replaced with a homogeneous, white and western-
centric image of a world populated only by happy consumers.
Chapter 22 is about the politics of disability. Otto J. Schantz and Keith
Gilbert, building on their previous work, judge the extent to which the now-
thriving Paralympic movement empowers disabled people, supporting, as they
put it, ‘the struggle for justice and equal treatment for people with a disability’,
and the degree to which it remains a sideshow, perhaps even undermining that
struggle.
In Chapter 23, John Karamichas looks at the relationship between the Olympics
and the contemporary politics of the environment. Few doubt that London would
have been awarded the Olympics of 2012 without the bid’s constituent promises
to renew the Lea Valley, a comparatively run-down part of the city’s East End. Nor,
indeed, can any city now expect to host an Olympics unless it pledges that the
event will be comprehensively ‘green’ – a political reality that dates at least from
the Winter Games in Lillehammer in Norway in 1994. Karamichas examines the
validity of the claim that the Games have ‘gone green’.
Chapter 24 is a perceptive analysis of the Olympics and the politics of
security. Since the killing of Israeli competitors at the Munich Olympics in
1972, and, more particularly, since the attacks on the World Trade Center in
New York in 2003, there has been pervasive talk in high places of ‘the terrorist
threat’. In this chapter Philip Boyle discusses not only the escalating nature of
the security budget for an Olympic Games, but the more far-reaching political
assumptions that have accompanied that escalation. ‘Security measures’, he
argues, are now a routine part of the neo-liberal governance of the contempo-
rary city and will be a taken-for-granted legacy of the Olympics once they have
left town. They are also deliberately made visible, purporting to ‘control the
uncontrollable’ and ‘performing’ reassurance in what Ulrich Beck has called
the ‘risk society’.22
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj and Stephen Wagg 9

In Chapter 25 attention turns to performance-enhancing substances. Ian

Ritchie provides a telling account of the relationship between drugs and the
Olympics. As he observes, ‘no other single issue in sport is thought to pose a
greater threat to the integrity of sport – the Olympic Games in particular’ – and
yet drugs were used from the earliest times in Olympic sport. He poses two
questions – why were drugs used in Olympic sport and why were they subse-
quently declared a moral problem – and provides an historical and sociological
framework in which these questions can be answered.
Then come two essays that are centrally concerned with gender. First, in
Chapter 26, there is a feminist analysis by Helen Jefferson Lenskyj of the
historic relationship of women to the Olympics, focusing on what she argues
is western feminists’ complicity in an international sport system that supports
global capitalism, neo-colonialism and sexploitation. In her words ‘apply-
ing insights from transnational feminist theory and practice’, she evaluates
‘the limitations of liberal feminist initiatives in Olympic sport and argue[s]
for a more radical, genuinely global approach’. Then, in Chapter 27, Jaime
Schultz discusses the matter of ‘gender verification’ at the Olympics. This
chapter addresses the ways in which the IOC and its affiliate sport federations
discipline sex; ‘the meaning of discipline is intentionally multifaceted here,
for these organizations generate, regulate, and control the principles by which
sex is determined. They also mete out punishment to women who fail to meet
those principles’.
In recent times the Olympics have become synonymous with bribery
scandals. In Chapter 28, Andrew Jennings, the writer most closely involved
in investigating and publicising these scandals, delivers a pungent critique in
which he argues that, far from emanating from the proverbial ‘few bad apples’,
bribery and corruption are woven into Olympic history, having their roots in
the right-wing politics of early 20th-century Europe and in the commercial
penetrations of more recent times. For Jennings, Juan Antonio Samaranch,
hailed by many Olympic scholars as having shepherded the IOC into the
modern era and secured its future, simply imported into the Olympics the
political methods he had practised as a minister in the fascist government of
General Franco that ruled Spain between 1939 and 1973.
The subsequent two chapters concern the relationship of Indigenous Peoples
to the Olympics. Chapter 29, by Christine M. O’Bonsawin, focuses on a group
of Native Canadians who were invited to the St Louis Olympics of 1904. (This
chapter can therefore be read in conjunction with Chapter 3.). The group were
invited to participate as ‘cultural curiosities’ at St Louis – a role, the author
contends, that Indigenous Peoples have continued to fulfill in the Olympic
movement. The group’s performance was deliberately provocative – it enacted
the wounding of the living and the mutilation of the dead – and contrary to
the Canadian Indian Act, forbidding such events. O’Bonsawin suggests that the
10 Introduction

performers were engaging in an act of political resistance, confident that ‘no law
would come against them’. For one thing, the organisers of the Olympics were
happy to have Indigenous People perform apparently primitive acts since such
acts provided validation for government ‘civilising’ programmes. Chapter 30,
by Toni Bruce and Emma Wensing, is an essay about Indigenous Peoples and
contemporary Australian politics arising out of the Sydney Olympics of 2000.
The essay discusses the media discourse and political initiatives that centred on
the Indigenous athlete Cathy Freeman. Freeman, as noted also in Chapter 21,
had been criticised for celebrating her gold medal in the Commonwealth
Games of 1994 by holding up an Aboriginal flag alongside an Australian one.
In 2000, however, she was entrusted with the lighting of the Olympic flame and
was now lionised by the Australian polity and mainstream media. In the view of
Bruce and Wensing ‘this public embrace of Freeman represents a form of enlight-
ened racism that served white Australians better than Indigenous Peoples’.
Chapter 31 is a thoroughgoing analysis of the whole issue of legacy, with
particular reference to the forthcoming London Games of 2012. Written by
Gavin Poynter, Chair of the London East Research Institute and based at the
University of East London, whose campus adjoins the Olympic site, it discusses
the rise of legacy discourse, the distinctive legacy undertakings of the London
bid, the threat to legacy of the economic recession and, in the author’s own
words, ‘the hazards of associating Olympism and the complex process of city-
building with the rhetoric of legacy’.
The theme of Chapter 32, by Hazel Blunden, is housing. Hosting the
Olympic Games, as Blunden makes clear, ‘brings forward processes already in
train – the escalation of housing costs, and urban redevelopment’. This directly
threatens ‘the working classes, the insecurely housed and the homeless’ who
may variously be relocated, removed, exiled or even criminalised. The chapter
presents evidence from a number of Olympic host cities – Seoul (1988), Atlanta
(1996), Sydney (2000), Athens (2004) and Beijing (2008) – in relation to urban
redevelopment and homelessness.
Chapter 33 is written by Konstantinos Zervas and draws on his research on
anti-Olympic movements. This includes accounts of recent such campaigns in
Tokyo and Chicago and an in-depth study of the Anti-2004 initiative in Zervas’s
native Athens. This chapter can be read in conjunction with Chapter 10.
The short, concluding section of the book consists of two chapters. These take
the form a simple setting out of the arguments for and against the Olympic
Games – a motion for debate that might have been unthinkable 30 or 40 years
ago. In Chapter 34 Ian Henry, Director of an Olympic Research Centre and a
professor at a university (Loughborough) which is at the heart of Britain’s ath-
letic preparation for the Games of 2012, offers a defence of the Olympics, while
in the final chapter Helen Jefferson Lenskyj, probably the foremost academic
critic of the Olympics, presents the case against them.
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj and Stephen Wagg 11

Notes
1. Young, ‘How Olympia 776 BC Became Athens 2004: Origin and the Authenticity of
the Modern Games’.
2. Johnson, ‘Home Team/Major League Losers’.
3. Brohm, Sport: A Prison of Measured Time, 174.
4. Tomlinson and Whannel, Five Ring Circus.
5. Bale and Christensen, Post Olympism? Questioning Sport in the Twenty-first Century.
6. Young and Wamsley, Global Olympics: Historical and Sociological Studies of the Modern
Games.
7. Bairner and Molnár, The Politics of the Olympics: A Survey.
8. Lenskyj, Inside the Olympic Industry: Power, Politics and Activism; Lenskyj, Olympic
Industry Resistance: Challenging Olympic Power and Propaganda.
9. Rutheiser, Imagineering Atlanta.
10. Lenskyj, The Best Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of Sydney 2000.
11. Shaw, Five Ring Circus: Myths and Realities of the Olympic Games.
12. Syme et al., The Planning and Evaluation of Hallmark Events.
13. Horne and Manzenreiter, Sports Mega-Events.
14. Simson and Jennings, The Lords of the Rings; Jennings, The New Lords of the Rings;
Jennings, The Great Olympic Swindle.
15. Zirin, Welcome to the Terrordome.
16. Espy, The Politics of the Olympic Games; Hoberman, The Olympic Crisis: Sport, Politics,
and the Moral Order.
17. Beaty, Extracts from August 10 Speech to New South Wales Parliament; National Law
Centre on Homelessness and Poverty, Civil Rights.
18. Shaw, Five Ring Circus.
19. The right to a huge tract of land, now encompassing all or part of 14 US states, was
purchased from France during 1803–4.
20. Barthes, Mythologies.
21. Calder, The Myth of the Blitz.
22. Beck, Risk Society: Towards a New Modernity.

References
Bairner, A. and G. Molnár (eds) (2010) The Politics of the Olympics: A Survey (London:
Routledge).
Bale, J. and M. Christensen (eds) (2004) Post Olympism? Questioning Sport in the Twenty-
first Century (London: Berg).
Barthes, R. (1973[1957]) Mythologies (London: Paladin).
Beaty, A. (1998) Extracts from August 10 Speech to New South Wales Parliament, Rent
Report, 2 (December).
Beck, U. (1992) Risk Society: Towards a New Modernity (London: Sage).
Brohm, J.-M. (1978) Sport: A Prison of Measured Time, translated by I. Fraser (London:
Ink Links).
Calder, A. (1990) The Myth of the Blitz (London: Jonathan Cape).
Espy, R. (1979) The Politics of the Olympic Games (Berkeley: University of California
Press).
Hill, C. R. (1996) Olympic Politics (Manchester: Manchester University Press).
12 Introduction

Hoberman, J. (1986) The Olympic Crisis: Sport, Politics, and the Moral Order (New Rochelle:
A. D. Caratzas).
Horne, J. and W. Manzenreiter (eds) (2006) Sports Mega-Events (Oxford: Blackwell).
Jennings, A. (1996) The New Lords of the Rings (London: Simon and Schuster).
Jennings, A. (2000) The Great Olympic Swindle (London: Simon and Schuster).
Johnson, A. (1998) ‘Home Team/Major League Losers’, Urban Affairs Review, 33:4,
579–81.
Lenskyj, H. (2000) Inside the Olympic Industry: Power, Politics and Activism (Albany: SUNY
Press).
Lenskyj, H. (2002) The Best Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of Sydney 2000 (Albany: SUNY
Press).
Lenskyj, H. (2008) Olympic Industry Resistance: Challenging Olympic Power and Propaganda
(Albany: SUNY Press).
National Law Center on Homelessness and Poverty (1998) ‘Civil Rights Violations, at:
www.tomco.net/~nlchp/civil.htm
Rutheiser, D. (1996) Imagineering Atlanta (New York: Verso).
Senn, A. (1999) Power, Politics, and the Olympic Games (Champaign: Human Kinetics).
Shaw, C. (2008) Five Ring Circus: Myths and Realities of the Olympic Games (Vancouver:
New Society).
Simson, V. and A. Jennings (1992) The Lords of the Rings (London: Simon and Schuster).
Syme, G., B. Shaw, M. Fenton and W. Mueller (eds) (1989) The Planning and Evaluation of
Hallmark Events (Vermont: Avebury).
Young, D. (2001) ‘How Olympia 776 BC became Athens 2004: Origin and the Authenticity
of the Modern Games’, Speech at Greek Embassy in Washington, 2 March, at: www.
greekembassy.org/Embassy/content/en/Article.aspx?office=1&folder=30&article=11574
&hilite=David%20Young (accessed 2 March 2011).
Young, K. and K. B. Wamsley (eds) (2005) Global Olympics: Historical and Sociological
Studies of the Modern Games (Amsterdam: Elsevier JAI).
Zirin, D. (2007) Welcome to the Terrordome (Chicago: Haymarket Books).
Part I
The Modern Olympics:
Pre-History
1
The Ancient Olympics and the
Modern: Mirror and Mirage
Mark Golden

Why do we throw the discus in the modern Olympics? Because the Greeks did.
Not just the ancient Greeks, for whom the discus was one of the five events of
the pentathlon from the time that it entered the Olympic programme (tradi-
tionally dated to 708 BCE). We owe the discus to the modern Greeks as well. It
was not originally planned to be part of Pierre de Coubertin’s games at Athens
in 1896. But the discus had figured in the earlier Olympic revivals at Athens in
1859 and 1870. Since it was virtually unknown elsewhere, the event looked
likely to produce a local champion, and the prospect of victory, then as now,
was a powerful incentive for expanding the programme.
In fact, the Greeks could boast two strong contenders. One, described by
the official report on the games as resembling ‘a statue of remarkable beauty
brought to life’, based his technique on Myron’s famous statue of a discus
thrower, the Discobolus.1 This, as it turned out, was a mistake: the event was
won by an American who (so one story goes) had first picked up a discus the day
before the games opened or (according to another) had practised with a much
heavier discus in the belief that it was like the one which would be in use in the
competition and developed a more dynamic method of throwing it.2 (Statues
don’t generate much thrust.) The Greeks had to settle for second and third, and
were third again in 1904. When the games returned to Athens in 1906, there
were two separate contests involving the discus. One allowed the twisting and
spinning which had proved so effective before; in the other, the ‘Greek discus’,
athletes stood on a sloping pedestal, were restricted in their movements, and
had to release the discus from a standing position – as the ancient Greeks were
thought to do. But in this event too the Greeks could do no better than second
and they were shut out of the medals the only subsequent time the Greek
discus appeared on the Olympic programme, in 1908. No Greek has ever won a
modern Olympic gold medal for the discus. One has come close, taking second
place in both 2000 and 2004 – but this was Anastasia Kelesidou, in the women’s
competition. I suspect that this was far from the minds of those Greeks who

15
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
16 The Ancient Olympics and the Modern: Mirror and Mirage

pushed for the inclusion of the discus event in 1896 – women did not compete
in athletics at the Olympics until 1928 – let alone of the ancient Greeks: they
never allowed women athletes in their Olympics at all.
The discus (as it figures in this brief sketch at least) is emblematic of the rela-
tionship between the ancient and the modern Olympics. The past is generally
invoked only for the purposes of the present – in this case, to justify the inclu-
sion of an event in which the chances of victory were thought to be good. To
use the past in this way runs the obvious risk of misunderstanding or misrep-
resenting history. A bronze statue is unlikely to yield an accurate impression of
a series of actions such as a discus throw, even if such realism is the sculptor’s
intention; this is all the more so if, as in the case of the Discobolus, we know
of it only from copies in another material and depictions on quite different
media such as coins.3 But it may also limit or even thwart our ability to see the
present clearly and to act to change it, and the effects of this are not always
confined to such relatively insignificant issues as the rules for competitions
with the discus.
In this case, this use of the past is made possible, even plausible, by the belief
that the modern Olympics and their ancient namesake are closely linked, if not
historically – there is a gap of a millennium and a half between the last known
ancient Olympiad and its 19th-century successors – then by their essential
natures and many subsidiary elements. This is a staple of accounts of both
modern and ancient games. So Ferenc Mezö, a Hungarian representative on
the International Olympic Committee, could compile three pages of ‘parallels
between the ancient and the modern Olympic games’.4 (These include those
between the number of judges at Olympia – 12 – and the membership of the
first International Olympic Committee and between two long-distance run-
ners, once ancient and one modern, who raced against a horse.) So too David
Young, the classicist who has done the most to debunk the myth of ancient
amateurism, can write: ‘In essence, the two are the same . . . Our Olympics are
not so much a revival of the ancient Greek games as a genuine continuation
of them.’5 Yet it is as easy to stress the differences between the two festivals
as their similarities.6 Indeed, as Coubertin wrote in the aftermath of the 1896
games, ‘The Olympic games which recently took place at Athens were modern
in character . . . Their creation is the work of “barbarians”’.7
The competitions of the ancient Greek Olympics were part of a religious fes-
tival for Zeus Olympios, Olympian Zeus (though many other gods and heroes
received recognition and worship throughout the six days which the festival
came to cover). Zeus derived this cult epithet from the festival’s location at
Olympia, a sanctuary some 60km outside the town of Elis in the northwest
Peloponnese, far from any centres of population and political power. Its temples
were impressive; Zeus’s held the great ivory and gold statue by Phidias which
was reckoned to be one of the wonders of the ancient world. But Olympia was
 Mark Golden 17

never elaborately equipped to handle either the competitors nor the throngs
who crowded into the sanctuary to see them; though the stadium was moved
and refurbished more than once, it was never state of the art, and the site could
not even claim a reliable supply of water before the largesse of Herodes Atticus
in the second century of our era. Nevertheless, it hosted the most prestigious of
the many ancient athletic festivals every fourth summer for over one thousand
years. Only once in all that time was the schedule changed, to accommodate
the emperor Nero on his tour of Greece in 67 CE. The ancient Olympics were
regular as clockwork and as a result were the basis of panhellenic chronology.8
The programme was almost as fixed. Though new contests were added, usually
one at a time, after the foundation of the festival (in 776 BCE, according to
Hippias of Elis), the set of athletic events was established (with one exception)
by 520 BCE; later innovations there were, but these involved heralds and trum-
peters and (especially) equestrian competitions, as the elite contrived to gain
more opportunities for Olympic success. As for the events themselves, only
Greeks were eligible to compete (though later organisers were willing to make
exceptions for Roman emperors and members of their families) and, since mar-
ried women at least (and perhaps all females) were excluded from the sanctuary
during the festival, this generally meant only Greek males. (Equestrian events
proved an important exception, since, then as now, the winner of a horse or
chariot race was the owner, not the jockey or driver, and owners need not be
present.) There were no team events (unless you count the chariot races), only
competitions for individuals. They were divided into two age categories, boys
and men – a classification later extended to colts and adult horses; there were
no other distinctions, not even weight classes in the combat events (wrestling,
boxing, pankration). Nor did clothing or equipment introduce further differ-
entiation, since athletes ran, jumped, threw and fought naked. Judges might
influence the outcome of the combat events, determining whether wrestlers
had thrown an opponent or identifying fouls, but most events yielded a clear
and uncontroversial winner. He earned a wreath of olive, cut from a tree sacred
to Zeus by a boy with a golden scythe; there were no other prizes.
Could all this be more unlike the modern Olympics? These are certainly
replete with rituals, some seemingly designed to invoke the past (as the appeal
to Apollo and the white-clad ‘priestesses’ clearly were in 2000). But they are
solidly secular nonetheless, and even those with plausible associations with
antiquity are new. For example, the Olympic hymn had no ancient equivalent;
the torch relay, moving and effective as it is, had no purpose in an ancient
festival rooted at one site, and even the lighting of the Olympic flame is
modern, the product of Coubertin’s imagination and the practical efforts of
two Dutchmen.9 Moving from city to city, usually large and important cit-
ies at that, the modern Olympics have proven no more stable in respect to
time. Originally designed to emulate the ancient games in their quadrennial
18 The Ancient Olympics and the Modern: Mirror and Mirage

cycle, they were suspended three times for two world wars and diminished by
boycotts of varying extents in 1976, 1980 and 1984; what is more, the addition
of the winter games means that they now take place every second year. And
wherever they go, they leave behind purpose-built facilities, each more impres-
sive than the last: lavish athletes’ villages – frequently planned as high-end
housing developments – sporting pleasure domes like the facilities at Beijing,
and (often enough) massive debts. (We Canadians paid off the Montreal
Olympics of 1976 just in time to get on the hook for Vancouver 2010.) The
programme, too, is constantly changing, adding women’s competitions in
many longstanding events, new weight classes or distances, even novel kinds
of sports altogether (such as synchronized swimming and freestyle skiing).
Athletes now hail from all over the world, with even the winter games boasting
competitors (or at least participants) from places such as Jamaica and Ghana:
taking part in the Olympics has become almost as much a mark of nationhood
as a seat in the UN General Assembly. They often make up teams – in fact, the
climax of the Vancouver winter games was not an individual event such as
figure skating or skiing but the gold medal game in ice hockey. Some sports set
an age limit – in gymnastics, no one younger than 16 is eligible – but all those
who meet it compete as equals; however, boxers, wrestlers and other fighters
take on only those in the same weight class.
Judges’ opinions play an important part in determining many winners, in
the more artistic sports above all, and so too of course in allocating the other
medals, for second and third place. (As Colorado governor Bill Ritter said
when his state was passed over for federal educational funding, ‘It was like the
Olympic games, and we were an American figure skater with a Soviet judge
from the 1980s’.10) In general, the modern Olympics have the same resem-
blance to their ancient inspiration as modern western democracies do to the
Athenian version: it’s mostly in the name.
The claim that the modern Olympics are steeped in the traditions of the past is
more than a harmless means of legitimization and aggrandizement, yet another
triumph of advertising over actuality like the launch of the fragrance Chimère.
(This capitalized on the mythical associations of the name at the risk of alienat-
ing those sticklers who recalled that the Chimera was part snake, part lion and
part goat, and wholly foul-smelling.) It has distorted both past and present. The
most influential example, the case of amateurism, is too well known to need
a long discussion here.11 Much of the success of Coubertin’s modern Olympic
movement depended on the impressive list of dignitaries who lent their names
and (more important) their titles to the crucial 1894 Paris conference which
led to the Athens games: a king (of the Belgians), three crown princes, a grand
duke. The first International Olympic Committee could boast a Russian general
and British, Belgian and Italian noblemen. These luminaries of the European
elite came on board for many reasons, no doubt, but one likely proved most
 Mark Golden 19

compelling: there was nothing in Coubertin’s plans to revive the Olympics

which threatened their social status in any way. Unlike earlier modern Olympics
held (with significant success) in England and in Greece itself, Coubertin’s did
not encourage lower-class athletes with travel subsidies or free room, board and
uniforms, let alone with cash prizes generous enough to tempt working men to
take time off – or quit their jobs – to train and come to the games. His Olympic
games were to be for amateurs only. There were no money prizes, only medals,
symbolic awards worth very little or nothing on the open market. (So the 1896
games gave winners silver medals – gold was too much like money.) Even past
competitions for money or other prizes of value rendered athletes ineligible. As
a result, only those with leisure and means would be able to take part in the
new IOC Olympics – and aristocratic claims to innate superiority in sport as in
other aspects of life would go unchallenged.
Coubertin made no mention of such a motive in his insistence that the new
Olympics be restricted to amateurs. Nor did he point (as some of his contem-
poraries did) to the elevation in tone that would result from a festival unsullied
by the sweat of farmers, labourers and craftsmen. He didn’t have to. Coubertin
justified the exclusion of professionals – the best athletes of his day – by the
example of the ancient Greeks: the ancient Olympics too, he said, had been the
preserve of amateurs. As it happens, that was the prevailing view among classical
scholars of the time. After all, the Olympics and the other panhellenic games
were called ‘sacred crown games’ precisely because they offered winners only
a wreath, and this was true of other athletic festivals which sought to emulate
them. But it was not true of all: many other competitions did reward victors
(and sometimes others too) with prizes of value. For example, athletes who tri-
umphed in the Greater Panathenaea at Athens took away dozens of jars of olive
oil and the right to sell their contents, which might fetch as much as a year’s
wages; equestrian winners did still better. Nothing prevented them from moving
on to Olympia and trying their luck there, and many did. Those who fared well
would of course get only an olive wreath at the festival itself; but on their return
home Athenian victors received cash grants, mandated by law – again, these
would be the rough equivalent of a year’s pay – and a lifetime of free meals in the
Prytaneum. These too did not compromise their amateur status for the very good
reason that the very concept of amateurism was foreign to the ancient Greeks. It
was in fact a 19th-century invention intended to preserve gentlemen from the
embarrassment of competing with – and losing to – their social inferiors, and
classical scholars, generally gentlemen too, read it back into their sources. As for
the contemporary consequences of this connection between the present and the
past: we have not yet forgotten the heartbreaks and hypocrisies of the Olympics
of the 20th century, from Jim Thorpe, the athlete of the half-century who was
stripped of his medals, to the Russian Army officers who played hockey full-time
but kept their amateur status. (That’s ice hockey, of course – they were the really
20 The Ancient Olympics and the Modern: Mirror and Mirage

cold warriors.) It is only now, ironically enough, that the modern Olympics
truly match the ancient, by admitting all-comers, amateur or not, and (in many
countries) by repaying success with cash and other rewards.
A current interchange between the present and the past may prove no more
productive. Pierre de Coubertin long hoped that his revived Olympics would
help to forge bonds between the elites of the nations which took part and so
encourage peaceful resolutions of disputes. This aim is now one of the central
tenets of the movement he founded, expressed most directly in the second
‘fundamental principle’ of the Olympic Charter: ‘The goal of Olympism is to
place sport at the service of the harmonious development of man, with a view
to promoting the establishment of a peaceful society.’ One of the main vehicles
towards this end in recent years has been the campaign for an Olympic truce.
Initiated in 1992 by the Greek government, at least in part to reaffirm Greece’s
close connection to the Olympics, this has been taken up by many individu-
als and groups, from distinguished historians of ancient Greece such as Paul
Cartledge of Cambridge to the World Olympians Association and even the
United Nations. Its goal is admirable: the cessation of wars for the two weeks
or so of the modern games, on the model of the Olympic truce of antiquity.
But the appeal to the example of the Greeks, though grounded in the authority
of Coubertin himself and often repeated since, is problematic. There is in fact
no evidence that wars stopped on account of the Olympic festival in ancient
Greece, nor indeed during any of the other truces attested for the great panhel-
lenic games. (Greek warfare could otherwise hardly have been as continual as it
was.) The ancient Olympic truce merely strove to guarantee that the sanctuary
would not be attacked during the celebration of the festival – a guarantee
that was not always honoured – and (more controversially) that all Elis itself
would be safe from invasion. In addition, it provided safe passage for athletes,
officials and spectators as they travelled to Olympia and back.12 More impor-
tant, the call for a modern truce has likewise been almost totally ineffective in
calling a halt to hostilities. To quote Michael Llewellyn Smith – a former British
diplomat of wide experience: ‘It is a pleasing concept which would not survive
the harsh realities of modern interstate relations.’13 Its most significant success
to date occurred early on, a ceasefire during the winter games at Lillehammer
which enabled some 10,000 Bosnian children to be vaccinated. A major con-
tribution to public health, certainly; but (as Buffy Sainte-Marie put it almost 50
years ago), this is not the way we put an end to war.14
Is there then no way for the modern Olympics to promote peace and even
produce it? The spectacle has become so popular and so powerful that it would
be a shame to reach that conclusion too hastily. Certainly we should not restrict
ourselves to walking in the footsteps of the ancient Greeks. This end justifies a
search for a means anywhere. If, however, we feel that the allure of the ancient
games is too strong to resist, there are three types of political pressure which
 Mark Golden 21

are attested for the ancient Olympics, have a history in the modern ones, and
have (in my view) a chance to work. These are demonstrations, boycotts, and
embargoes (or exclusions). Demonstrations first. In 388 BCE (or perhaps four
years later) Dionysius II, the dictator of Syracuse on the island of Sicily, sought
to make a show of his wealth and power at Olympia. He entered an unusually
large number of chariots in the four-horse race and also sent his own poems
and actors to read them and a delegation with all the trappings, including a
pavilion decked out in purple and gold. The orator Lysias, himself the son of
a Syracusan immigrant to Athens, made a speech condemning the tyrant and
calling on the crowd to overthrow him and set Sicily free. As if to illustrate
the point, the winner of the stadion race, one of the marquee events at any
Olympiad, had been announced as a Syracusan though, as all well knew, he
was a native of a Sicilian city Dionysius had seized for himself. Lysias’s audience
responded by pillaging Dionysius’s tents and their rich accoutrements. What
they might have done if one of Dionysius’s chariots had won is something
we will never know: they all ran off course or crashed, and the ships taking
them home were wrecked at sea. Modern demonstrations have been less effec-
tive. Perhaps the best we can say is that none has been as disastrous as those
at Mexico City in 1968, where students were mowed down by government
troops and the American gold- and bronze-place medal winners in the 200m,
Tommie Smith and John Carlos, were vilified for their Black Power salutes on
the podium. (They were rehabilitated – the Soviet-style term seems appropriate
here – only much later; meanwhile, Peter Norman, the white silver-medal
winner, who protested in solidarity with them, remains mostly ignored outside
his native Australia.)15 Later demonstrations have mostly been held far away
from venues for competition or restricted or forestalled.
As for ancient boycotts, the Eleians, organizers of the Olympics, refused to
compete at the Isthmian games. The explanation our sources give is rooted in
myth: Heracles, they say, killed the sons of Actor of Elis during the sacred truce
for the Isthmian festival yet secured refuge at Argos. When the Argives were
allowed at Isthmia nonetheless, the Eleians boycotted the festival ever after. So
far as we can tell, the Eleians did not in fact take part in the historical Isthmian
festival, whatever the cause. A real crime prompted a more focused boycott. In
332 BCE, the Athenian pentathlete Callippus was caught bribing his Olympic
rivals. All were fined; all paid – except for Callippus. When Hypereides,
a prominent orator and politician, was unable to persuade the Eleians to
reconsider, the Athenians boycotted the festival until forced to pay up by no
less an authority than the god Apollo: his oracle at Delphi refused to respond
to their queries.16 It is hard not to be cynical about modern boycotts. Thirty
years ago, the government of Afghanistan sought the aid of a major military
power in a civil war. Before that bloody conflict ended in a humiliating with-
drawal and defeat, it had spawned two boycotts, one of the Moscow summer
22 The Ancient Olympics and the Modern: Mirror and Mirage

games of 1980 and the other, in retaliation, of the 1984 games in Los Angeles.
Neither made the slightest difference to the course of the war. The run-up to
the latest winter games featured another Afghan government supported by a
different coalition in a civil war against much the same enemy as before. Not
only did the Canadian press say nothing about a boycott of the Vancouver
games – hardly a surprise in the host country – but it carried virtually nothing
about the earlier boycotts, not even human interest stories about Canadian
athletes who might well have mixed feelings about watching others enjoy the
opportunity their government had denied them. On the other hand, there is
some evidence that the African-led shunning of South African sport, and in
particular their boycott of the 1976 Olympic games in Montreal, played a role
in persuading the Afrikaner elite to put an end to apartheid 15 years later.17
On an alternative reading, Callippus’s case resulted in the prohibition of the
Athenians from Olympic competition, not a boycott. Sparta’s exclusion from
the festival a century earlier is more clear-cut (though there is room to doubt
how long it lasted). In 421 BCE, ten years into the great Peloponnesian War
which involved most of the Greek world, the claims of tiny Lepreon to be
independent of nearby Elis were backed up by a Spartan garrison. The Eleians
countered that the move into territory which they regarded as theirs had taken
place after the proclamation of the Olympic truce and was therefore a breach of
it. They therefore joined Athens and Argos in an anti-Spartan alliance and per-
suaded the Olympic court – under their control – to fine the Spartans the enor-
mous sum of 33 talents. Sparta refused to pay and the Eleians then excluded
them from the Olympic festival of 420 BCE at least and (as most scholars
believe) for those of the next 20 years as well. It’s worth stressing here that this
not only kept one of the Greek world’s two superpowers out of its most impor-
tant religious gathering, it at the same time banished a major force in sport,
one which had produced champions in the chariot race for the better part of
a generation. The Spartans’ immediate reaction was to go home and celebrate
a local festival of Zeus on their own. But some two decades later, this embargo
was one of the chief causes of open warfare between Sparta and Elis.18
Excluding belligerents in a similar fashion might prove to be the most effec-
tive way for the modern Olympic movement to contribute to peacemaking.
It would not bring participants into danger as demonstrations do, nor (unlike
boycotts) require the coordinated activity of many states. Boycotts have the
extra disadvantage that their burden is disproportionately borne by athletes
whose competitive careers are generally short. An embargo, however, affects
only the athletes of the nations which are targeted – and even these might
be excused if they demonstrated opposition to their governments’ policies or
actions. Furthermore, the power to invite national teams resides in a relatively
small and identifiable group, the International Olympic Committee, which has
already expressed a desire to foster peace through its support of the Olympic
 Mark Golden 23

truce campaign. What is more, precedents for the exclusion of belligerents need
not be sought in the ancient Olympics alone: warring nations were left out of
Olympics which followed both the first and second world wars of the past
century. Since this history, and the precedent it provides, are likely less familiar
than those of demonstrations and boycotts, I will set it out briefly here.
The 1920 Olympics, scheduled for Antwerp, presented a problem for the IOC.
The Olympic movement was worldwide in its ambitions, and its leaders were
keen to bring in new members. At the same time, however, Belgium had been
the first victim of German aggression in the war that had just ended. Coubertin
believed that the participation of Germany and its allies was undesirable but
it was awkward to begin excluding nations, let alone major powers in the
world of sport and longtime IOC members, when the movement wanted to
expand. Meeting at Lausanne in 1919, the IOC resolved to send invitations to
the Antwerp games only to countries which were still represented on it – time
and the war had much reduced its numbers – and to those outside Europe
which were as yet unrepresented but were nominated by the local organizing
committee. The list which the IOC then prepared simply omitted the Germans
and their allies. (The Germans, like the Spartans 2500 years before, put on an
alternative festival, the Deutsche Kampfspiele, in 1922.) Germany likewise was
left off the list of invitees to the 1924 games in Paris (still recovering from the
war), though its allies Hungary, Bulgaria, Turkey and Austria took part (despite
the fact that Austria still didn’t have an IOC member in good standing). Only
in 1928 was Germany permitted to rejoin the Olympic movement – something
the award of the 1936 games to Berlin was meant to celebrate.19
The issue of excluding belligerents arose again after the Second World War.
Japan, under American occupation, was ineligible; Italy had redeemed itself
by leaving the Axis alliance before the war came to an end. Both Bulgaria
and Romania were invited to the 1948 winter games at St Moritz – in neutral
Switzerland – but not to the summer games in London, still bearing the scars
of the Blitz. Germany was more difficult to deal with, as it had been 20 years
before. Though attempts were made to form a national Olympic committee,
the occupying powers objected and the IOC refused to recognise it. By 1952,
West Germany had a committee in good standing and competed in the Helsinki
summer games (along with a team from the Saarland) – the Finns had fought
together with German troops during the war. But there was no East German
team at Helsinki – the IOC had insisted on a joint entry, and the Soviet allies
were left out when the two Germanies could not agree on its make-up – and
no German team at all at the winter games at Oslo (as Norway had been under
German occupation so shortly before).20
Even so cursory an account reveals a number of problems in relying on the
exclusion of belligerents from the Olympics as a means of promoting peace.
To take only one example: which belligerents? Up until now, the IOC has
24 The Ancient Olympics and the Modern: Mirror and Mirage

singled out only the losers, and even then has identified particular losers and
the games from which they have been excluded in a manner more pragmatic
than principled. It might be best to build on the support of the United Nations
for the truce campaign and exclude all those – whatever the outcome of a
conflict – who have waged war against international law or without UN sanc-
tion. Would the sports-mad Australians have been so eager to join the coalition
which invaded Iraq if it had brought their participation in the next Olympics
into question? But this is hardly the place to resolve such issues. It is enough
for my purposes to reaffirm the perils of using the ancient Olympic past to
shape the present. We must not sacrifice history on the altar of expediency.
Nonetheless, it is also fair to say that a richer understanding of the past may
offer a base on which to build a better future. The campaign for an Olympic
truce has not yet done much to establish a peaceful society and isn’t likely to.
But other means with links to the history of the Olympics may.

Notes
1. Olympic Review, 157 (November 1980), 626.
2. See Llewellyn Smith, Olympics in Athens 1896, 165–167.
3. For our evidence on the ancient discus throw and its implications, see Langdon,
‘Throwing the Discus in Antiquity’, 177–182; Lavrencic et al., Diskos.
4. Mezö, ‘Parallels between the Ancient and the Modern Olympic Games’.
5. Young, A Brief History of the Olympic Games, 138–140.
6. See Golden, Greek Sport and Social Status, 105–127.
7. Coubertin, ‘The Olympic Games of 1896’, 39.
8. See Christesen, Olympic Victor Lists and Ancient Greek History.
9. See Barney and Bijkerk, ‘The Genesis of Sacred Fire in Olympic Ceremony’.
10. New York Times, 5 April 2010.
11. See especially Young, The Olympic Myth of Greek Amateur Athletics.
12. See Lämmer, ‘Der sogenannte Olympische Friede in der griechische Antike’, and,
more briefly, Lämmer, ‘The Nature and Function of the Olympic Truce in Ancient
Greece’; Hornblower and Morgan, ‘Introduction’ to Pindar’s Poetry, 30–5.
13. Llewellyn Smith, Olympics in Athens 1896, 246.
14. Buffy Sainte-Marie, ‘The Universal Soldier’, 1963.
15. For Smith and Carlos, see Bass, Not the Triumph but the Struggle; Hartmann, Race,
Culture and the Revolt of the Black Athlete. For Peter Norman, see the documentary film
by his nephew, Matt Norman, Salute (2008).
16. See Weiler, ‘Korruption in der Olympischen Agonistik . . .’.
17. See Mason, ‘The Bridge to Change . . .’.
18. See Falkner, ‘Sparta and the Elean War . . . ’; Roy, ‘Thucydides 5.49.1–50.4: the
Quarrel between Elis and Sparta in 420 BC . . .’; Hornblower, ‘Thucydides, Xenophon
and Lichas . . .’.
19. See Lennartz, ‘The Exclusion of the Central Empires from the Olympic Games in
1920’.
20. See Lennartz, ‘The Readmission of Germany and the Problem of German Division’;
Buschmann and Lennartz, ‘Germany and the 1948 Olympic Games [in London]’.
 Mark Golden 25

References
Barney, R. K. and A. T. Bijkerk (2005) ‘The Genesis of Sacred Fire in Olympic Ceremony:
A New Interpretation’, Journal of Olympic History, 13.2, 6–27.
Bass, A. (2004) Not the Triumph but the Struggle: The 1968 Olympics and the Making of the
Black Athlete (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press).
Buschmann, J. and K. Lennartz (1998) ‘Germany and the 1948 Olympic Games [in
London]’, Journal of Olympic History, 6.3, 22–28.
Christesen, P. (2007) Olympic Victor Lists and Ancient Greek History (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press).
de Coubertin, P. (1896) ‘The Olympic Games of 1896’, The Century Magazine, 53.1
(November), 39–53.
Falkner, C. (1996) ’Sparta and the Elean War, c.401/400 BC: Revenge or Imperialism?’,
Phoenix, 50, 17–25.
Golden, M. (2008) Greek Sport and Social Status (Austin: University of Texas Press).
Hartmann, D. (2004) Race, Culture and the Revolt of the Black Athlete: The 1968 Olympic
Protests and Their Aftermath (Chicago: University of Chicago Press).
Hornblower, S. (2000) ‘Thucydides, Xenophon and Lichas: Were the Spartans Excluded
from the Olympic Games from 420 to 400 B.C.?’, Phoenix, 54, 212–225.
Hornblower, S. and C. Morgan (eds) (2007) Pindar’s Poetry, Patrons and Festivals. From
Archaic Greece to the Roman Empire (Oxford: Oxford University Press).
Lämmer, M. (1982–3) ‘Die sogenannte Olympische Friede in der griechische Antike’,
Stadion, 8/9, 47–83.
Lämmer, M. (1975–6) ‘The Nature and Function of the Olympic Truce in Ancient Greece’,
History of Physical Education and Sport, 3, 37–51.
Langdon, M. (1990) ‘Throwing the Discus in Antiquity: The Literary Evidence’,
Nikephoros, 3, 177–182.
Lavrencic, M., G. Doblhofer and P. Mauritsch (1991) Diskos (Vienna: Böhlau).
Lennartz, K. (1994) ‘The Readmission of Germany and the Problem of German Division’,
in R. Gafner (ed.), The International Olympic Committee. One Hundred Years. The Idea – the
Presidents – the Achievements (Lausanne: International Olympic Committee, 1994), 44–53.
Lennartz, K. (1998) ‘The Exclusion of the Central Empires from the Olympic Games in
1920’, in R. K. Barney, K. B. Wamsley, S. G. Martyn and G. H. MacDonald (eds), Global
and Cultural Critique (London ON: International Centre for Olympic Studies), 69–74.
Llewellyn Smith, M. (2004) Olympics in Athens 1896. The Invention of the Modern Olympic
Games (London: Profile Books).
Mason, C. W. (2007) ‘The Bridge to Change: The 1976 Montreal Olympic Games, South
African Apartheid, and the Olympic Boycott Paradigm’, in G. P. Schaus and S. R. Wenn
(eds), Onward to the Olympics: Historical Perspectives on the Olympic Games (Waterloo ON:
Wilfrid Laurier University Press), 283–96.
Mezö, F. (1950) ‘Parallels between the Ancient and the Modern Olympic Games’, Olympic
Review, 19 (January), 20–22.
Roy, J. (1998) ‘Thucydides 5.49.1–50.4: The Quarrel between Elis and Sparta in 420 B.C.
and Elis’ Exploitation of Olympia’, Klio, 80, 360–368.
Weiler, I. (1991) ‘Korruption in der Olympischen Agonistik und die diplomatische Mission des
Hypereides in Elis’, in A. Rizakis (ed.), Achaia und Elis in der Antke. Akten des 1. Internationalen
Symposiums Athen, 19-21 Mai 1989 (Athens: Institüt für Geschichte und Römische
Antike, Nationales Hellenistisches Forschungszentrum/de Boccard, 1991), 87–93.
Young, D. C. (1984) The Olympic Myth of Greek Amateur Athletics (Chicago: Ares).
Young, D. C. (2004) A Brief History of the Olympic Games (Oxford: Blackwell).
2
Pierre de Coubertin: Man and Myth
Dikaia Chatziefstathiou

As stated in the Olympic Charter,1 ‘Modern Olympism was conceived by Pierre

de Coubertin, on whose initiative the International Athletic Congress of Paris
was held in June 1894’. The central role of Baron Pierre de Coubertin in the
foundation of the modern Olympic movement and initiation and develop-
ment of Olympism is widely acknowledged in the literature (examples from
the broad literature are:2–9). Although many accounts can be found in relation
to his life and work, there has always been an interest in unveiling further
details of his personality and actions. The present chapter draws upon over 200
hundred texts written by Coubertin, included in the book Pierre de Coubertin
1863–1937 – Olympism: Selected Writings, the first comprehensive edition
(in English) of Coubertin’s writings centred on Olympism and Olympic values.
Pierre de Coubertin’s numerous publications amount to around 15,000 printed
pages having written 30 books, 50 pamphlets, 1300 articles and around 30
leaflets and posters.10 To a certain extent, Coubertin changed the focus of his
interests over the years. In his early years, his writings were centred on preserv-
ing the equilibrium of ‘modern’ individuals and societies, whereas by 1931,
with the publication of his Olympic Memoirs, his focus was more on preserving
the influence and autonomy of the IOC. Coubertin, in later life, was keener
on the survival of the Olympic Movement than the ‘ideological cleavage of
the world’.11
It is remarkable that Coubertin’s revival can be interpreted as representing
both his nationalist and internationalist tendencies; being traumatised by the
defeat of France in the Franco-Prussian war, he offered a formula for making
French youth more robust, healthy and physically fit but also aspired to a com-
munion of nations in the name of peace, fraternity and goodwill. Such tensions
and paradoxes are apparent in several actions of the founder of the modern
Olympic Movement throughout his life. This chapter seeks to provide possible
interpretations for some of those ‘controversial’ motives and shed light on his
interests, intentions and actions in relation to the promotion of the ideology of

26
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 Dikaia Chatziefstathiou 27

Olympism against the historical, political and cultural background of the early
years of the Modern Olympic Movement (1887–1937). The chapter is divided
into two main sections: a) Coubertin the ‘social marketer’ and b) Coubertin the
‘skilful manoeuvrer’.

Coubertin the ‘social marketer’

While social marketing has gained popularity over the past two decades (the
term was only coined in the 1970s), it should not be perceived as a new phe-
nomenon. For instance, campaigns had been launched in Ancient Greece and
Rome to emancipate slaves. Towards the end of the 18th century, campaigns
in England were conducted in relation to granting voting rights to women.12
Social marketing evolved in parallel with commercial marketing. It was not
until the late 1950s and early 1960s that marketing scholars started considering
applying the principles of marketing to political or social contexts. For instance
Wiebe asked the question in 1951, ‘Can brotherhood be sold like soap?’, and
rather provocatively for the time suggested that if social change campaigns
shared elements of the commercial ones, they were more likely to succeed and
appeal to the public. Despite several oppositions,13,14 the marketing concept
was reframed to embrace the marketing of values and ideas. The redefinition
of marketing in conjunction with a shift in public health policy towards dis-
ease prevention opened the way to the establishment of the concept of social
marketing. During the 1960s, health education campaigns in developing coun-
tries started to adopt commercial marketing technologies.15,16 In 1971, Kotler
and Zaltman17 used for the first time the term ‘social marketing’ and defined
it as: ‘the design, implementation and control of programs calculated to influence the
acceptability of social ideas and involving considerations of product planning, pricing,
communication, distribution and marketing research.’
As the author has also demonstrated elsewhere,18 Coubertin may be seen as
a social marketer of his time, perhaps not exactly as outlined by Kotler in his
contemporary definition of what constitutes a ‘social marketer’, but within
that broad spectrum of social marketing which has existed for centuries. Thus
it may also be argued that Olympism has been utilised as a social marketing
product in resolving social issues and changing behaviours at individual and
society levels, as well as that Coubertin may be labelled as a social marketer
who aimed at initiating social change through the promotion of the Olympic
ideology. As also mentioned earlier, Coubertin, during his life, experienced
the defeat of France in the Franco-Prussian war, and a succession of social
changes as part of the modernisation processes of his era. His native coun-
try, France, experienced the victory of democracy, the industrialisation of its
economy, the spread of socialist values and establishment of socialist struc-
tures, the secularisation of civil society, the absorption of provincial cultures
28 Pierre de Coubertin: Man and Myth

into a strong, dominant national culture, the linkage of individualism and

nationalism but also the interconnectedness of the world due to an increas-
ing tide of cosmopolitanism.19 Coubertin lived in this era and experienced
its distinctive dynamisms and the mobility of social, economic and cultural
processes, observing them through the privileged ‘lens’ of a French aristocratic
background. MacAloon20 emphasises that:

Genealogy is linked with much larger social interests than simple ancestor
reckoning. In most social groups – peoples, classes, castes, movements, and
so on – a family tree is not a mere map of blood ties, but an index and icon
of the fundamental values which ‘blood’ represents to that group.

Hoberman21 also argues that Coubertin must be understood as a representative

of his noble class and an exemplary citizen of the French Third Republic. In
this context, Coubertin’s values might be seen to a certain extent as a reflection
of the conservativism of his class. Interestingly, his desire for success through
important endeavours, such as pedagogical reform or the Olympic Games, can
also be attributed to the high expectations derived from his aristocratic name.
In his 1908 memoir, Une Campagne de 21 ans, Coubertin, commenting on
his resignation from the military French academy at St-Cyr, argued that, ‘[I]
brusquely resolved to change career in the desire to attach my name to a great
pedagogical reform’.22 Inspired by Philhellenism and influenced by the ris-
ing cosmopolitanism of his era, Coubertin was committed to initiating social
changes. Coubertin joined the liberal, republican, classicist intellectuals by
writing in the journal La Reforme Sociale (1883), a combined organ of two
organizations, the Société d’économie sociale and the Unions de la paix sociale,
where his first thoughts and expressions about l’education athlétique and la
pédagogie sportive can be found. Both organizations were founded and led by
Frédéric Le Play, a sociologist and social philosopher of the mid-19th century
who Coubertin admired and many of whose views he shared. Le Play’s work
had raised much criticism but also received much recognition for its emphasis
on the methods of ‘fieldwork’ and ‘observation’ with the modern meaning
of the terms in sociological research.23 His social philosophy was centred on
values of social peace, workers’ rights, family, Catholicism and decentralisation.
He founded first the Societé d’économie sociale that was open to amateur soci-
ologists who wanted to learn his methods. However, after the historical events
of 1870–1871 (the Franco-Prussian War and the Commune) and the need for
an ideological orientation, he founded the Unions de la paix sociale and estab-
lished the journal La Reforme Sociale, which had a conservative character and
promoted the values of family, Catholicism and social classification. Coubertin
related strongly to Le Play because they both shared a desire to reform French
education. Coubertin’s biggest ambition in the 1880s was to improve the use
 Dikaia Chatziefstathiou 29

of recreation time and introduce sport in schools. Coubertin wrote the following
in La Reforme Sociale (1888):

Many a time, Frédéric Le Play dwelt on the deplorable tendencies of our cur-
rent academic regimen, and on the need for immediate reform. We are going
to try to achieve one of the points in his program. Were he still alive, we
would certainly enjoy his support and assistance. In our view, improved use
of recreation time and the spread of sports among school children are but
means to an end. We have set our aim higher. The reason we are using these
means is that observation and experience have shown that they are effective
in giving young people the precious qualities of energy, perseverance, judg-
ment and initiative that, among us, are the prerogative of only a few. Much
can be expected of a generation brought up in this way.24

Le Play’s influence on Coubertin is clear, as reflected not only in their common

plans for social reform but also in the use of the methods of ‘observation’ and
‘experience’ as reliable measurement tools. In common with Le Play, Coubertin
believed that social reform should start from education and among the young
population of France. Thus, Coubertin as a social marketer of his era was
committed to initiating social change in the target audience of French youth
through education by promoting sport and physical activity.

Social reform must be achieved through education. Our efforts must focus
not on adults, but on children, in order to ensure our success. We must
give those children qualities of mind that will make them capable of under-
standing, and qualities of character that will render them capable of per-
forming the transformation in which your illustrious founder saw France’s
salvation.25

On 1 July 1888 the Committee for the Propagation of Physical Education was
founded, with Coubertin as its Secretary General, and it aimed at the trans-
formation of French education. In a letter on behalf of the Committee to the
members of the Societé d’économie sociale and Unions de la paix sociale, asking for
their help in the efforts towards social reform through education, he uses the
word ‘crusade’ to describe their attempts:

In effect, our work is shielded from any political quarrels. It is purely social,
and that is one more consideration for you. We are confident that you will
assist us in the crusade that we have undertaken, against a system of educa-
tion that is so ill suited to the needs of the present day, and that has proven
incapable of producing the true citizens that France needs.26
30 Pierre de Coubertin: Man and Myth

Their social reform aimed to change the conditions of the relationship between
the individual and the state, giving more rights to individuals and limiting the
authority of the state. In a speech in Boston, Coubertin revealed:

We want free-minded self-governing men, who will not look upon the State
as a baby looks on his mother, who will not be afraid of having to make their
own way through life. Such is the work that our Association has pointed out
to French teachers as being the most important part of their duty. It involves
practically what I call the training for freedom.27

Coubertin, as a social theorist of the French Third Republic, promoted the

value of ‘freedom’, hoping for social peace and harmony. Particularly if seen
in their French translation ‘liberté’ (freedom) and ‘ésprit libre’ (free-minded),
they reflect the values of freedom and democracy upon which French social
structures were established after the French Revolution (1789).28 Coubertin’s
ideological framework in this period is predominantly and classically repub-
lican with an emphasis on the values of ‘God, country and freedom’. ‘And so
I have the right to say, and to repeat, that we expect this transformed educa-
tion to produce [. . .] active and determined citizens who will adopt as their
own the motto of the minister of whom I spoke earlier: citizens who will love
God, country, and freedom.’29 Nonetheless, he promotes a more cautious, more
flexible form of conservatism that allows changes for the betterment of French
society, thus his vision for reform(s). His disappointment with the so-far unsuc-
cessful attempts of a social reform is evident below:

At times I have wondered, and certainly I am not the only one who has
asked this question, how it is that the doctrines that form the overall social
reform program have not had any clear impact on French society so far.
These doctrines were proclaimed by an illustrious man whose name is
familiar to everyone. They have been supported by societies whose simple,
ingenious machinery makes it easy to propagate them. Now, these doctrines
are defended by devoted citizens thoroughly persuaded of their value.
What is missing from these doctrines that keeps them from gaining the
upper hand and revitalizing the country? The reason is that the doctrines
of Frédéric Le Play are eminently reasonable, and that they are addressed,
when all is said and done, to a people that is not.30

Therefore, it can be argued that his disappointment at the failure of France

in the Franco-Prussian War and the wish for reinstatement of its power, his
personal aspirations to attach his name to a pedagogical reform, and influence
on his thinking of the liberal republican classicist Frédéric Le Play promoting a
successful social reform through education, directed him to market sport and
 Dikaia Chatziefstathiou 31

physical activity to the target audience of French youth. As part of this project,
Coubertin travelled to England, the United States and Canada in order to gain
ideas about how to successfully initiate physical education in schools. However,
it was English education that impressed him the most and provided the model
on which he wished to develop French educational reform. As evident in these
early writings, Coubertin may be seen as a social marketer of his era who pro-
moted sport and physical activity to the target audience of French youth as a
means to reinvigorate France and produce a stronger nation. His patriotism and
faith in the Third Republic prevailed; hence his devotion to social cohesion
and the need for social reform. However, in an era that witnessed a remarkable
proliferation of transnational movements and organisations devoted to world
peace and reconciliation, Coubertin’s international interests transcended his
limited nationalist scope. Coubertin’s strategy for reconciling his nationalist and
internationalist interests was the revival of the modern Olympic Games. This
constituted not only a response to the cosmopolitan trends of his era but also an
attempt to promote sport ‘as the virile formula on which the health of the State
can be founded’,31 which then transformed Coubertin into a social marketer of
a greater and more challenging product, that of the ‘Olympic Idea’.

Coubertin, the ‘skilful manoeuvrer’

Coubertin, especially during the very early years of the Olympic Movement, was
keen to safeguard his revival project from any external threats and in his effort
to achieve this, he demonstrated his manoeuvring skills in a few occasions.
A good example is when Coubertin through a series of actions and manoeuvres
managed to maintain his own plans and visions after the first Olympic Games
in Athens in 1896.32 It was after those Games that the Greeks had shown a great
enthusiasm to regularly host the Games in Greece and Coubertin not only kept
his distance from them thereafter but also claimed ownership of the Games
and reinstated his power as being the key decision-maker of the Olympics dur-
ing this time. At the 1894 Congress in Paris Coubertin had turned to Greece
and his personal friend Dimitrios Vikelas (whose name can also be transliter-
ated as Bikelas) for help concerning the revival of the first modern Olympic
Games. The decision was taken for the first modern Olympic Games to be
held in Athens in 1896 and an emphasis on Hellenism was imposed. However,
Coubertin’s relationship with the Greeks had been very unsettled due to politi-
cal manoeuvres by the Greek government. Finally, a compromise was reached
when it was decided that the first Olympic Games should be in Athens in
1896 and the second in Paris in 1900. However, the choice of Athens was
unfortunate as, after a decade of extreme instability from 1869 to 1879, Greece
was politically and financially weak.33 For these reasons, the government
opposed hosting the event, and the Greek Etienne Dragoumis, a member of
32 Pierre de Coubertin: Man and Myth

the Zappeion Commission, suggested that the Athens Games should be held
in 1900, the beginning of a new century and the year of organising the World
Exhibition in Paris.34 Charilaos Tricoupis, the Greek prime minister, had a
strong argument against the Olympic Games, believing that the financial
state of Greece would not enable it to bear the heavy economic burden of
the Olympic Games. Finally, after several negotiations, the Games were held
in Athens. Coubertin, as Krüger35 correctly notes, had different original plans
about the host city of the first Olympic Games, but there does not appear any
specific evidence of nationalist claims of the Greeks about the paternity of the
first modern Games at this point. This happened later, when, as a result of the
success of the Games, King George of Greece and other Greek officials had
warmed to the idea of holding the modern Games in Greece on a permanent
basis, an idea that Coubertin opposed strongly:

The group formed by the IOC on either side of the Crown Prince represented
the perennial nature of the enterprise and the international character I was
determined to preserve at all costs. All around us resounded the nationalistic
fervour of the Greeks intoxicated by the idea of seeing Athens become the
permanent home of the Games, acting as host every four years to this flat-
tering and profitable influx of visitors.36

In his efforts to promote the permanent Olympic Games in Greece, Timoleon

Philemon, a former mayor of Athens and secretary-general of the reconstituted
organising committee of the Athens Games, had the full support of the new
prime minister Theodoros Deligiannes and the royal family. MacAloon37 argues
that at the King’s banquet and at the prize ceremony Coubertin was treated as
just ‘another face in the crowd’.38 Lucas39 also argues that Coubertin’s name
was absent from official Olympic bulletins, royal proclamations and the Greek
press. When Coubertin claimed to have been involved in the organisation of
the Olympic Games, one Athenian newspaper condemned him as ‘a thief seek-
ing to rob Greece of her inheritance’.40 Furthermore, Coubertin did not provide
much help to the Greeks during the preparation of the Games, and he belittled
the contributions of Vikelas, seeking all the credit for himself. This is explicit in
his introduction to the booklet supporting the revival of the Games:

I claim its paternity with raised voice and I would like to thank once more
here those who assisted me to bring it into well-being; those, who together
with me, think that athletics will emerge greater and ennobled and that inter-
national youth will draw from it the love and peace and respect for life.41

Moreover, Coubertin sent a letter of complaint to the editor of The Times (9 July
1908), when it attributed the success of the Games to his joint actions with the
 Dikaia Chatziefstathiou 33

Greek Giorgios Averoff (responsible for the re-construction of Panathenaikos

Stadium of Athens). He emphasised:

I completely fail to see how my plans could have been in any way influenced
by Mr. Averoff’s decision to reconstruct the Athenian stadium, since when
Mr. Averoff decided to undertake this reconstruction, the International
Congress which I had called forth had already met at Paris Sorbonne (1894)
and the revival of the games had already been decided […] It was that same
Paris Congress that chose Athens as the seat of the first Olympiad of 1896; a
marble stadium did not seem at all necessary to make the games a success.42

Coubertin’s zeal for self-promotion and also his fear that the Greeks might suc-
ceed in placing the Games under their patronage seem to be the main factors
that caused him annoyance with the association by the press of a Greek with
the success of 1896 Athens Games. It is worth quoting the reply by the editor
of The Times (13 July 1908: 23), who remarks that although Coubertin com-
plained of ‘a great many mistakes’,

He refers only in one single instance to any alleged error in the article which
he criticises. We did not say that his plans for reviving the Olympic Games
were influenced by M. Averoff’s decision to reconstruct the Athenian sta-
dium, or that M. Averoff’s decision preceded the International Congress at
which the revival was decided upon. We merely observed that it was a combi-
nation of M. de Coubertin’s plans with M. Averoff’s work which rendered the first
Olympic Games at Athens a success. The remainder of this letter deals with
matters of opinion.43

It would seem that Coubertin wanted to disassociate himself, and the Olympic
Games, from the Greeks, at least until the success of his project was secured.
In this uneasy atmosphere, Coubertin felt angry and annoyed with the attitude
of the Greeks, and appeared more distant and diplomatic, especially concern-
ing the permanency of the Olympic Games on Greek ground:

Above all I had to hold out against the King, whose speech at the final banquet,
[which was] attended by all the athletes, had faced me with the famous dilemma:
whether to give in or to resign. I had already decided to do neither. But, on the
other hand, resistance on such an occasion was hardly possible. I decided to act as
if I were stupid, pretending not to understand. I decided to ignore the King’s speech
on the pretext of ambiguity; speaking half in Greek, half in French, he had not
used identical terms when repeating his proposal to fix the permanent headquarters
of the Games in Athens […] And the very evening the Games closed, I sent
the King a public letter thanking him, as well as the town of Athens and
34 Pierre de Coubertin: Man and Myth

the Greek people […] In it, I clearly specified the continuation of the scheme
and the perenniality of the International Committee by alluding to the
Games of the second Olympiad which would be held in Paris […] The letter
was short and to the point. The German and the English versions appearing
at the same time as the French, it became of little importance whether the
Greek version was published too or not.44

So serious was the situation that some IOC members thought that the IOC
would have to disband.45 Coubertin, in his Olympic Memoirs (1931), mentions
that his letter to the King and his diplomatic manoeuvres against the Greek
plans caused a situation which threatened the structure of the IOC:

The outward form [of the letter] was, of course, perfectly polite and courte-
ous, in accordance with the demands of protocol, but the deed itself was
nonetheless of a rare insolence. The members of the Committee, who were for
the most part staunchly monarchist, showed considerable alarm, for I had not
consulted my colleagues or submitted anything in advance […] However nothing
happened. The IOC survived the test without resignations or even any cracks in
its structure.46

In resolving the situation, Coubertin suggested that the Greeks should host
the pan-Hellenic Games spaced between the Olympics, an idea that he did
not particularly like but felt would temporarily stop the Greeks from claiming
the modern Olympic Games as their own. Through this skilful compromise,
Coubertin succeeded in drowning the Greek plans for permanent Games
in Athens, and continued undisturbed with his own plans for international
Games. The Greek officials and the King liked the idea, but it was destined to
failure due to the difficulties of raising funds:47,48

The Greek committee, which had hoped to celebrate intermediate Games

at the foot of [the] Acropolis in 1910 – to which we would have extended
our help as loyally as in 1906 – was obliged to give up the idea for lack of
money, an economic crisis. From Athens we received an unofficial proposal
to include the Athenian series in our own cycle: the Games would be cele-
brated every eight years in Greece, and every eight years in another country.
It was impossible to agree to this proposal. It would have meant torpedoing
our own work without any real benefit to anyone. International politics
were far too uncertain for the choice of the venue for the Games to be fixed
such a long time in advance.49

Although Coubertin underlines above that, if the Greeks continued to hold the
intermediate games, he would offer his help ‘as loyally as in 1906’, the next
 Dikaia Chatziefstathiou 35

quote provides evidence that he was not content with the Greeks organising
parallel games:

The fear of seeing the launching of this idea [including an artistic pro-
gramme in the Olympic Games] delayed once again made me decide to
summon a ‘Consultative Conference on Art, Letters and Sport’ for the spring
of 1906. At the same time, I would be able to use this as an excuse for not going
to Athens, a journey I particularly wished to avoid. Even though we were now
on very good terms with the Hellenic Committee, the reconciliation was a
result more of a conscious effort on the part of both parties than of a serious
alteration of our respective position […] In any case, a great deal of friction and
many difficulties were bound to arise during contests. It was best for everyone and
for everything that I should not be there.50

Guttmann argues that ‘an Olympic congress held at Le Havre scotched the
Greek attempt to usurp the Games’.51 In order to rescue the internationalism
of his project and safeguard it from having a single-nation character, Coubertin
turned away from the Greeks. At the 1897 Le Havre conference, Coubertin
limited his emphasis on classical Hellenism, which had caused him trouble
with the modern Greeks, and highlighted instead an alternative, but equally
prestigious, source of inspiration for high values – Anglo-Saxonism:

The Le Havre Congress had to do without any help from Greece. The Greeks were
fighting for the independence of Crete and the restoration of the legiti-
mate frontiers, but fate proved hostile. Friends and enemies fighting in the
service of their country had no time to turn their eyes towards Normandy.
Therefore, the Hellenism that had permeated the atmosphere of the first Congress
in 1894 started to fade before the influence of England, which was closer. It was
to Arnold that we turned, more or less consciously, for inspiration.52

Coubertin admired England, and saw in it the continuum of Hellenism; ‘the

virtue of Greek formulae [was] perfected by Anglo-Saxon civilisation’.53 By the
middle of the 19th century the language and imagery of chivalry had been
central in Victorian life. The notion of the ‘gentleman’, inspired by noble and
selfless values, represented a newer version of medieval chivalry, which was
deliberately promoted by the Victorians in their effort to produce a ruling elite
both for the nation and the expanding Empire. Coubertin’s enthusiasm for
English sports education escalated when, in 1875, he read a French translation
of Tom Brown’s School Days (1856), a novel in which Thomas Hughes roman-
ticised his memories of Rugby School. In his study L’Éducation en Angleterre
(1888), Coubertin, at the age of 25, wrote of Thomas Arnold, Headmaster of
Rugby School from 1828 to 1842, that he ‘could not have been English if he
36 Pierre de Coubertin: Man and Myth

had not loved sport’.54 Nonetheless, Guttmann55 and Hoberman56 argue that
Coubertin was misled by Hughes and thought that Thomas Arnold had been
a fervent advocate of sports. In fact, Arnold was far more interested in boys’
moral education than in their physical development. No matter what the
real focus of Arnold was, Coubertin admired the combination of physical
health and character that was reflected in the sport of English youth. A wider
public than the English upper classes applauded the emphasis on games in
public school education. The English education system was admired by con-
tinental idealists. Several Frenchmen, in a survey of English (and Scottish)
education in 1868, expressed respect for games, as well as for the freedom and
independence of the pupils in public schools. In 1876, the German Ludwig
Wiese considered the conduct of English upper class youth ‘a pedagogic vir-
tue’ and praised the way in which ‘the germ of manliness’ was cultivated.57 In
1897, Edward Demolins published a book entitled A quoi tient la supériorité des
Anglo-Saxons? (What is the reason for the superiority of Anglo-Saxons?), and
appeared quite certain that the answer lay in the centrality of physical exercise
in their schools.58
Therefore, the emphasis on values of Anglo-Saxon civilisation at the Le Havre
Congress (1897) had a twofold purpose: to divert the emphasis from Hellenism
to a different civilisation and safeguard the Games from the Hellenic national-
ism which had arisen, but also to use the rising ‘Anglomania’ in the best inter-
ests of the modern Olympic Games:

The only way to ensure any relative long-term survival of the athletic renais-
sance then still in its infancy was to superimpose the immense prestige of
antiquity on the passing fad of Anglomania, thereby undercutting, to some
extent, any opposition from the students of classicism, and to impose on the
world a system whose fame spread beyond all national borders.59

Concluding remarks

The history of Olympism casts Coubertin as a key actor in the interstitial

moments of class and ideology formation in the late 19th and early 20th
centuries, bridging the cultural domain, the modernity of western industrial
capitalism and the traditional conservatism of aristocratic, paternalistic leader-
ship. Olympism as a philosophy of ‘universalism’ thus casts Coubertin as
both elitist and exclusionary and as a universalist promoting a cultural move-
ment which has been able in some respects to transcend divisions in a world
of increasingly fragmented identities. However, it can be argued that while
Coubertin through his rhetoric and political influence promoted a particular
role for Olympism and sport in a particular world view, this philosophy of
Olympism has in a sense also served to define Coubertin. He is characterised as
 Dikaia Chatziefstathiou 37

a ‘visionary’, but can also be called a ‘social marketer’ and a ‘skilful manoeuvrer’
who marketed his values and ideas to the powerful circles of his time and also
employed tactics to secure the longevity of his project whenever necessary.
The fact that men and women, nations of various political persuasions and
Olympic and Paralympic athletes continue to participate in a single (relatively)
unified domain tends to define his legacy in terms of promoting social and
cultural stability and inclusion despite the clearly elitist and exclusionary
origins of much of his advocacy.

Notes
1. IOC, Olympic Charter, 11.
2. Weber, ‘Pierre de Coubertin and the Introduction of Organised Sport in France’.
3. Eyquem. Pierre de Coubertin: L’epoque Olympique.
4. Segrave and Chu, Olympism.
5. Lucas, The Modern Olympic Games.
6. MacAloon, This Great Symbol: Pierre de Coubertin and the Origins of the Modern Olympic
Games.
7. Guttmann, The Olympics: A History of the Modern Games.
8. Hill, Olympic Politics.
9. Loland, Pierre de Coubertin’s Ideology of Olympism from the Perspective of the History
of Ideas.
10. Norbert Müller, Pierre de Coubertin 1863–1937 – Olympism: Selected Writings.
11. Hoberman, The Olympic Crisis. Sport, Politics and the Moral Order, 33.
12. Kotler et al., Social Marketing: Improving the Quality of Life.
13. Luck, ‘Social Marketing: Confusion Compounded’, 70–72.
14. Laczniack et al., ‘Social Marketing: Its Ethical Dimensions’.
15. Ling et al., ‘Social Marketing: Its Place in Public Health’.
16. Manoff, Social Marketing: New Imperative for Public Health.
17. Kotler and Zaltman, ‘Social Marketing: An Approach to Planned Social Change’, 5.
18. A version of the current chapter has been published elsewhere. See D. Chatziefstathiou,
(2007) ‘The History of Marketing an Idea: The Example of Baron Pierre de Coubertin
as a Social Marketer’, European Sport Management Quarterly, 7.1, 55–80.
19. MacAloon, This Great Symbol.
20. Ibid.
21. Hoberman, The Olympic Crisis.
22. MacAloon, This Great Symbol, 41.
23. Ibid.
24. Coubertin, ‘Letter to the members of the Société De Économie Sociale and of the
Unions de la Paix Sociale’.
25. Ibid., 76.
26. Ibid., 77.
27. Coubertin, ‘Athletics and gymnastics’, 139.
28. Hoberman, The Olympic Crisis.
29. Coubertin, ‘The cure for overworking’, 1889, 68.
30. Coubertin, ‘Letter to the members of the Société De Économie Sociale and of the
Unions de la Paix Sociale’, 75.
38 Pierre de Coubertin: Man and Myth

31. Coubertin, ‘Athletic education’, 28–29.

32. For more details on the relationship between Coubertin and the Greeks as well
the incorporation of Hellenism in the Olympic ideology, see Chatziefstathiou and
Henry, ‘Hellenism and Olympism, Pierre de Coubertin and the Greek Challenge to
the Early Olympic Movement’.
33. Lucas, The Modern Olympic Games.
34. Hill, Olympic Politics.
35. Krüger, ‘The Unfinished Symphony: A History of the Olympic Games from Coubertin
to Samaranch’.
36. Coubertin, ‘The First Olympiad (Athens 1896)’, 330.
37. Lucas, The Modern Olympic Games.
38. Guttmann, The Olympics, 19.
39. Lucas, The Modern Olympic Games.
40. Guttmann, The Olympics, 19.
41. Hill, Olympic Politics, 26.
42. Coubertin, ‘To The Editor of The Times: The Olympic Games ( July 13, 1908)’,
735–736.
43. Müller, Pierre de Coubertin 1863–1937, 736, emphasis added.
44. Coubertin, ‘The First Olympiad (Athens 1896)’, 332.
45. Hill, Olympic Politics.
46. Coubertin, ‘The First Olympiad (Athens 1896)’, 332.
47. Guttmann, The Olympics.
48. Hill, Olympic Politics.
49. Coubertin, ‘The Fifth Olympiad (Stockholm 1912)’, 435.
50. Coubertin, ‘The Inclusion of Literature and the Arts’, 621.
51. Guttmann, The Olympics, 21.
52. Coubertin, ‘The Olympic Congress at Le Havre (1897)’, lines 164–180.
53. Coubertin, ‘What we can ask of sport. Address given to the Greek Liberal Club of
Lausanne, 24 February’, 1918, lines 183–197.
54. Guttmann, The Olympics, 9.
55. Ibid.
56. Hoberman, The Olympic Crisis.
57. Mangan, Athleticism in the Victorian and Edwardian Public School, 130.
58. Ibid.
59. Coubertin, ‘Olympia. Lecture Given In Paris, In the Festival Hall of the 19th
Arrondissement Town Hall’, 1929, lines 131–140.

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Ling, J. C., B. A. Franklin, J. F. Lindsteadt and S. A. Gearon (1992) ‘Social Marketing: Its
Place in Public Health’, Annual Review of Public Health, 13.1, 341–362.
Lucas, J. (1980) The Modern Olympic Games (London: Thomas Yoseloff Ltd).
Luck, D. J. (1974) ‘Social Marketing: Confusion Compounded’, Journal of Marketing, 38
(October), 70–72.
MacAloon, J. (1981) This Great Symbol: Pierre de Coubertin and the Origins of the Modern
Olympic Games (Chicago: University of Chicago Press).
MacAloon, J. (1996) ‘Humanism as Political Necessity? Reflections on the Pathos of
Anthropological Science in Olympic Contexts’, Quest, 48, 67–81.
Mangan, J. A. (2000) Athleticism in the Victorian and Edwardian Public School (London:
Frank Cass).
40 Pierre de Coubertin: Man and Myth

Manoff, R. K. (1985) Social Marketing: New Imperative for Public Health (New York:
Praeger).
Müller, N. (ed.) (2000) Pierre de Coubertin 1863–1937 – Olympism: Selected Writings
(Lausanne: International Olympic Committee).
Segrave, J., and D. Chu (1981) Olympism (Champaign: Human Kinetics).
Sigmund, L. (1994) Pierre de Coubertin’s Ideology of Olympism from the Perspective of the
History of Ideas, Second International Symposium for Olympic Research, Western
Ontario, Canada.
Weber, E. (1970) ‘Pierre de Coubertin and the Introduction of Organised Sport in France’,
Journal of Contemporary History, 5.2, 3–26.
Part II
The Olympics: Case Studies
3
The 1904 Olympic Games: Triumph
or Nadir?
David Lunt and Mark Dyreson

The sites where in 1904 hundreds of athletes once competed in the Games
of the Third Olympiad have long disappeared under the urban landscape of
contemporary St Louis. Forest Park’s green expanses, historical museums and the
city zoo stand where Olympic athletes once ran, jumped and swam. A now more
than century-old stadium on the nearby campus of Washington University that
seats 4000 spectators for collegiate soccer matches, football games, and track and
field meets served in 1904, as several plaques and monuments on the grounds
mention, as the main venue for an Olympian spectacle. Visitors to these neighbor-
hoods in St Louis, however, have to know what they are looking for if they want
to see the old sites. St Louis’ Olympic landmarks are not the high-traffic tourist
sites that venues in other Olympic cities, from Beijing to Berlin, have become.1
Like the sites that have now almost disappeared, most of the world and many
Americans have forgotten that once upon a time St Louis staged an Olympic
Games. In Olympic history the St Louis Games have generally been consigned
to the dustbin. The eminent German scholar of modern Olympism, Karl
Lennartz, has suggested that the International Olympic Committee (IOC) had
to construct a ‘special’ Olympics held in 1906 in Athens to rescue the games
from the St Louis debacle.2 Even in the United States the St Louis Olympics have
been marginalised. American Olympic scholar C. Robert Barnett argues that
the general historical consensus has concluded that St Louis staged the ‘worst’
Olympics in modern times, ‘bathed in nationalism, ethnocentrism, controversy,
confusion, boosterism, and bad taste’.3
In national and even international memories St Louis pales in comparison
to the many other Olympics celebrated in the United States, overshadowed by
Los Angeles’ twin spectacles (1932 and 1984), Lake Placid’s two winter carnivals
(1932 and 1980), Salt Lake City’s winter extravaganza (2002) and even the
much-maligned Atlanta festivities (1996). Chronological distance alone does
not explain why St Louis sinks below even Atlanta’s infamous pick-up trucks at
the opening ceremonies as the exemplar of what many perceive as the Olympic

43
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
44 The 1904 Olympic Games: Triumph or Nadir?

movement’s worst maladies, the aforementioned litany of evils that runs from
nationalistic chauvinism to crass commercialism to just plain ‘bad taste’.

In the shadow of an international exposition

The 1904 St Louis Olympics suffered poor rankings from both contemporary
and later analysts in part because they were housed within an international
exposition – just as they had been in 1900 at the Exposition Universelle in
Paris. The marriage of expositions and the Olympics stretched beyond Paris
and St Louis to London in 1908 (the Franco-British Exposition), and even to
the unconsummated Tokyo Olympics and world’s fair of 1940 – both of which
were cancelled by the Second World War.4 Indeed, the wildly popular world’s
fair movement that spanned the second half of the 19th century and the first
half of the 20th century and served as the first global mega-events in world
history exerted enormous ideological and structural power over the Olympic
movement.5 Not only did the fairs manifest a fascination with staging sport-
ing events that predated the Olympics but the founder of the modern games,
France’s Baron Pierre de Coubertin, owed much of his affinity for spectacle, his
desire for cosmopolitan interchange, and his predilection for measuring differ-
ences between nations and cultures from the expositions. Coubertin also copied
the notion of rotating the Olympic spectacles through the capitals of the mod-
ern world from the fairs.6 Perhaps the St Louis Olympics comes by its reputation
more honestly than some scholars imply, as national chauvinism, racial profil-
ing, cacophonous disputes, rampant self-promotion, and all manner of tastes,
good and bad, high and low, characterised the world’s fairs as well.7
Though by 1904 Coubertin and the IOC had begun to grow concerned that the
Olympics had become minor planets orbiting the brilliant suns of expositions,
financial calculations, older traditions, and established connections placed the
St Louis Olympics as a satellite of the 1904 Louisiana Purchase Exposition. The
ideology of the fair movement captured the imaginations of American organis-
ers and proponents who saw in these Olympics an opportunity to promote the
merits of the special American ‘race’ that the ‘strenuous life’ produced. The St
Louis spectacle would provide a means for the world’s nations to measure their
cultural progress through athletic successes, chiefly through the systematic
application of scientific principles and technical mastery. Western science and
technological innovations, in particular their American versions, produced the
globe’s best cultures and the world’s best athletes. The St Louis Olympics repre-
sented an opportunity to put those theories to the test.

The fight to host the Olympics

The Louisiana Purchase Exposition ultimately guaranteed that St Louis would

host the first Olympics on American soil. Before St Louis secured the games,
 David Lunt and Mark Dyreson 45

however, a variety of other urban boosters sought to acquire the spectacle.

Indeed, on July 28, 1900, shortly after the conclusion of the Paris Olympics, the
New York Times announced that the University of Pennsylvania would host the
third modern Olympic Games in Philadelphia.8 That announcement proved
premature. Although Coubertin and the IOC listened to Philadelphia’s bid
Coubertin quietly supported Chicago, Illinois, as the site of the next Olympic
festival.9
Despite a challenge from the Amateur Athletic Union (AAU) that the IOC had
no power over sport in the United States, University of Chicago president William
Rainey Harper and athletic leader Amos Alonzo Stagg lobbied vigorously for the
games. Chicago’s Olympian Games Association capitalised on its $1 million war
chest to persuade the IOC to accept the Chicago bid. Despite a late appeal from
St Louis to delay the decision until 1902, in May of 1901 the IOC unanimously
awarded the 1904 games to Chicago. The city celebrated the news of this
decision. Henry J. Furber, Jr, the head of Chicago’s bid committee, exulted that
the Games ‘should make a universal appeal to the pride and patriotism of every
American’. He confidently predicted an Olympic championship for the United
States. Chicago’s joy, however, would prove to be short-lived.10
When the city of St Louis asked the IOC to delay its decision on awarding
the 1904 Olympic Games, it did so in an effort to stage the Olympic festival
in conjunction with the Louisiana Purchase Exposition. Originally planned
for 1903 to coincide with the centennial of the purchase, construction delays
postponed the exposition until 1904. The exposition planned an elaborate
program of athletic spectacles, and scheduled the national AAU championships
for the same month that the Olympics had been scheduled in Chicago. In an
effort to avoid competition with the St Louis festivities, the Chicago organis-
ers asked the IOC to push the Olympic Games to 1905. St Louis officials, with
the support of the AAU, proposed that the IOC transfer the Olympics to their
city. Although he preferred Chicago, the presence of the Louisiana Purchase
Exposition swayed Coubertin. In February 1903, without much consultation
with the IOC, Coubertin unilaterally announced that the IOC had shifted the
1904 Olympics from Chicago to St Louis.11

St Louis, the American frontier and the ‘strenuous life’

Although Chicago represented a more cosmopolitan choice for the IOC, the
selection of St Louis resonated strongly with the popular American idea that the
frontier served as a key element in the shaping of national identity – a vision
given substance by the historian Frederick Jackson Turner in an earlier world’s
fair at Chicago in 1893.12 The Exposition itself commemorated the purchase of
the vast Louisiana territory, Thomas Jefferson’s $15 million bargain that had
provided a homeland for expansion-minded Americans. As the ‘gateway to the
West’, St Louis had historically served as a staging point for explorers, trappers,
46 The 1904 Olympic Games: Triumph or Nadir?

settlers and others who had sought their fortunes by heading west. Turner’s
thesis concerning the surplus of free land, the dynamics that allowed for an
escape from social tensions, and the evolution of American civilization focused
on the relationship between Americans and the frontier. With the settling of
the West and the closing of the frontier, the progressive era’s enthusiasm for the
‘strenuous life’ sought to challenge America’s youth through sport and inculcate
the uniquely American virtues that had been won on its frontier.13
In addition, St Louis needed an infusion of civic virtue and the staging of
the Olympic Games in conjunction with the exposition sought to do just that.
By 1904 St Louis faced urban problems rather than frontier challenges. What
had once been a thriving metropolis faced an uncertain future as the trans-
Mississippi West became more settled. After the Civil War, St Louis had become
a factory town as the railroad replaced the river as the dominant mode of trade.
However, at the beginning of the 20th century the city suffered acutely from
common urban maladies such as overcrowding, ethnic tensions, pollution and
political corruption.14 Proponents of sport advised that athletics could cure all
of those urban diseases and restore the imagined vitality of the frontier era.
They argued that cities needed more parks, gymnasiums, playgrounds and
opportunities for organised athletics in order to resurrect public virtue.15
Against this backdrop, US President Theodore Roosevelt, an ardent supporter
of the ‘strenuous life’, in April 1903 dedicated the grounds and facilities in
St Louis in preparation for the Exposition which would open exactly one year
later. In his remarks, Roosevelt reiterated his understanding of the connections
between the ethic of strenuousness produced by frontier expansion and the
public virtue generated by American political culture. Roosevelt agreed with
Turner that the frontier had made the United States the leading civilisation on
the globe, but disagreed that the end of a continental frontier portended dire
consequences for the American republic. Rather, the president contended that
new frontiers beckoned, opening the prospect for national revitalisation. Just
as the Louisiana Purchase had sparked the dynamic expansion that spawned
American power, so did the world’s fair symbolise that history. Roosevelt
remarked that ‘we have met here today to commemorate the hundredth
anniversary of the event which more than any other, after the foundation of
the Government, and always excepting its preservation, determined the char-
acter of our national life – determined that we should be a great expanding
nation instead of relatively a small and stationary one.’16 In 1904, Americans
looked to the sporting events of the third Modern Olympics to spark athletic
nationalism, champion the positive effects of the strenuous life, and demon-
strate sport’s utility for realising the promises of a republican meritocracy that
awarded status for achievement.17
American sporting officials and newspaper reporters looked forward to the
St Louis Games as an opportunity to demonstrate American superiority over
 David Lunt and Mark Dyreson 47

the decrepit ‘Old World’ powers of Europe. They contended that American
values that vaunted the ‘common man’ over the landed aristocratic elite would
propel American athletes to victory. In addition, civilised scientific experi-
ments would seek to discover if industrialised American society could produce
athletes to match those of pre-industrialised peoples, peoples who lived far
more physical lives in their various ‘natural’ states. These objectives meshed
nicely with the progressive enthusiasm for the ‘scientific Physical Culture’ that
Americans needed for a return to their vigorous and virtuous roots.18 Sport, it
seemed, provided the answers to all of America’s problems.

The Olympic program of 1904

Under the firm control of the AAU, the Olympic Games in St Louis featured
much more than the traditionally accepted international events that had charac-
terised the Olympics in 1896 and 1900. Spectators in St Louis witnessed a host of
scholastic, collegiate and even professional contests. Under the Olympic banner,
the Louisiana Purchase Exposition put on track meets for Missouri schoolboys;
national championships for American YMCAs; sectional and national collegiate
championships; a variety of basketball and baseball games; several high-profile
college football contests including the first-ever meeting between Indian school
teams Carlisle and Haskell; golf, archery, wrestling, boxing, fencing, lacrosse, swim-
ming, bicycling, rowing, roque (competitive croquet) and tennis tournaments;
a German Turner meet – an exhibition of traditional German mass gymnastic
exercises; and a host of ‘Irish’ games. Organisers even proposed a meeting of the
National and American League baseball champions for an ‘Olympic’ champion-
ship – a contest that never materialised.19
The series of competitions began on May 14 with an interscholastic meet
featuring St Louis area high schools and continued through November 19. In
addition to staging a multitude of sporting events, fair officials sought to develop
scientific notions of athletics. In mid-August, the Exposition’s Department of
Physical Culture, in conjunction with its Department of Anthropology, decided
to conduct a ‘scientific’ experiment designed to uncover which races and cultures
produced superior athletes. Proponents of the strenuous life contended that
national vigour stemmed directly from a nation’s physical culture in relation to
its environment. Officials in the Department of Anthropology sought, in 1904,
to compare the ‘races’ and cultures of the world in an athletic setting.20

Anthropology Days

In previewing the anthropology exhibits at the upcoming Louisiana Purchase

Exposition, chief architect William J. (who used ‘WJ’ as a first name) McGee
emphasised the connections between the Exposition’s Department of
48 The 1904 Olympic Games: Triumph or Nadir?

Anthropology and its Department of Physical Culture. Inasmuch as the

Exposition would bring together a ‘more complete assembly of the peoples
of the world than has ever before been brought together’, McGee sought to
capitalise on this assembly by launching the most exhaustive anthropometric
comparison of human types ever conducted. The Exposition’s Department of
Anthropology constructed a laboratory furnished with the latest equipment
and techniques to measure human variations. In addition to ‘customary’ meas-
urements such as height, weight, head shape and size, arm-spread, and skin
colour, the anthropologists also planned to evaluate physical capabilities such
as ‘strength’ and ‘endurance’. Such data, according to McGee, would reveal ‘so
far as measurements may – the relative physical value of the different races of
people’. These inquiries into the ‘physical value’ of races and nations would
eventually metamorphose into one of the most controversial episodes in the
history of sport.21
The Exposition’s Department of Anthropology featured, in effect, a human
‘zoo’ with over two thousand occupants from a variety of cultures, including
Ainus from Japan, Tehuelche Indians from Patagonia (spanning Chile and
Argentina at the southernmost tip of South America), Pygmies from central
Africa, a variety of Filipino groups, and representatives from more than a dozen
North American Indian tribes. Next door to so-called ‘realistic’ scenes of abo-
riginal life, the Exposition’s anthropologists constructed a model Indian school
to demonstrate how ‘primitive’ peoples could be educated as citizens and
integrated into modern nations. McGee declared that ‘progressive accultura-
tion’ promoted the common good in a democratic society. These schools, he
explained, acted as scientifically designed melting pots intended to produce
citizens for modern society. Even ‘primitive’ peoples could be effectively inte-
grated into a national culture through the systematic application of scientific
training. This training supposedly transformed ‘primitive’ peoples from savage
to citizen, capable of participating in society’s ‘higher stage’. The anthropologist
insisted that through Indian schools and similar mechanisms, social engineers
could mould people ‘from dull-minded and self-centered tribal existence into
the active and constructive and broadminded life of modern humanity’.22
To test these theories the Department of Anthropology and the Department
of Physical Culture at the Louisiana Purchase Exposition staged a series of ath-
letic competitions known as ‘Anthropology Days’ or the ‘Tribal Games’. These
contests pitted ‘primitive’ groups against one another in both ‘civilised’ and
‘savage’ games as scientists sought to determine which groups and cultures had
the most athletic energy. As the athletes and scientists prepared for the exhibi-
tion, WJ McGee and Dr S. C. Simms, the head of the University of Chicago’s
Field Museum of Anthropology, touted the marvellous athletic ability of the
‘savages’. St Louis journalists reported that the Moros from the Philippines had
taken to athletic training ‘like ducks to water’.23 A newspaper report claimed
 David Lunt and Mark Dyreson 49

that a Moro had nearly broken the world’s record in the standing broad jump,
bare-footed and leaping ‘native style’.24 The experts promised attendees they
would witness the grand natural prowess of primitive humanity. However,
not all of the scientists anticipated a strong showing by the native athletes.
The experts in the Exposition’s Department of Physical Culture, particularly
director James Sullivan and physiologist Luther Halsey Gulick, disputed the
anthropologists’ contentions that the fair’s savages were better athletes than
their own highly trained Olympians. To settle the debate the two departments
organized the so-called ‘Tribal Games’.25
Held on August 11 and 12, the St Louis Star claimed that these events
offered ‘more real fun, if not bona-fide sport’ than any of the summer’s previ-
ous contests. The reporter marvelled that the athletes competed in their ‘native
costumes’ in events ‘suited to [their] nature’.26 According to the scoring, the
conglomerated Native American tribes won the meet with 34 points; the squad
from the Philippine Islands, including a group identified as ‘Negritos’, placed
second with 16½ points; the Patagonians from South America took third
with 10. Although the St Louis newspapers described the aboriginal Olympics as
a great success and claimed that native athleticism had ‘astounded’ WJ McGee
and AAU leader James Sullivan, this was not the case. Sullivan and several oth-
ers declared that the experiments had proved to be a great disappointment for
believers in the myth of the natural athlete. In fact, from Sullivan’s perspective,
the only scientific success that came of the games was the dismissal of the com-
mon belief that uncivilised parts of the world were the source of the world’s
greatest natural athletes.27
The official report of the Louisiana Purchase Exposition on Anthropology
Days noted that ‘the representatives of the savage and uncivilized tribes proved
themselves inferior athletes, greatly overrated’. A Pygmy ran the 100-yard dash
in a time ‘that can be beaten by any twelve-year-old American school boy’. So
poor was the performance by the ‘giant Patagonians’ in the shot put that John
Flanagan’s toss, the second-place heave in the regular Olympic fifty-six-pound
throw, surpassed the combined throws of the best three Patagonian competi-
tors hurling sixteen-pound weights. The Sioux Indian who won the running
broad jump could not equal Olympic victor Ray Ewry’s standing broad jump
record. These contests, concluded Sullivan, proved ‘that the savage is not the
natural athlete we have been led to believe’.28
The ‘civilised’ sporting contests, such as running, jumping, and throwing in
the American style, were won by ‘Americanised’ Indians. Despite some ‘native’
games held on the final day of the event, such as pole-climbing, archery con-
tests, a mud fight among the Pygmies, and a game of ‘shinny’, the Department
of Physical Education’s experts concluded that there was little athleticism inher-
ent in the native peoples. Despite Dr Simms’ and WJ McGee’s feeble apologetics
and plans for further studies, American sporting leaders enjoyed the triumph
50 The 1904 Olympic Games: Triumph or Nadir?

of their scientific training methods. Sullivan crowed that the ‘whole meeting
proves conclusively that the savage has been a very much overrated man from
an athletic point of view’.29 As Sullivan exulted, the Aboriginal Games further
confirmed the superiority of American scientific training and athletic culture in
the minds of the American sporting leaders. Science and progress, key themes
of the Exposition, had proven their superiority to alleged primitivism on the
athletic field.
These Anthropology Days irritated Baron de Coubertin. He did not attend the
St Louis Olympics but half-heartedly pardoned the Americans for Anthropology
Days, remarking that ‘in no place but America would one have dared to place
such events of a program, but to Americans everything is permissible, their
youthful exuberance calling certainly for the indulgence of the Ancient Greek
ancestors, if, by chance, they found themselves among the amused spectators’.30
Despite the Baron’s protest, Anthropology Days were not really an aberration
in the context of the Louisiana Purchase Exposition. The event reaffirmed, like
the Exposition’s other scientific and technical displays, the basic belief in the
superiority of modern Occidental civilisation over all other forms of human
culture. Even WJ McGee agreed that modern Americans had developed more
fully than any other peoples because of their affinity for sport, stating that
athletics built ‘mind, muscle and morality’.31 The American love of the strenu-
ous life confirmed the nation’s role as the contemporary leader of human
progress.
While the ‘Tribal Games’ challenged romantic primitivism, the perform-
ances of a girls’ basketball team composed of American Indians from Fort Shaw
Indian School in Montana, who lived at the model Indian School during the
fair, added an additional layer of complexity to the ethnographic debates sur-
rounding the strenuous life in St Louis. To the surprise of Midwesterners, the
Fort Shaw team dominated competitors from scholastic programs in Missouri
and Illinois, earning recognition from the exposition as the ‘world’s champi-
ons’ of girls’ basketball. The fair presented the team as both exemplars of indig-
enous prowess and as products of civilized assimilation, further illuminating
the complexities of American racial and cultural typologies in the early 20th
century on basketball courts and in Olympic arenas.32

The ‘Olympian games proper’ (29 August–3 September)

A little more than two weeks after the conclusion of Anthropology Days, the
‘Olympian games proper’ – as a St Louis newspaper dubbed the international
track and field competition – commenced to widespread American fanfare.33
American pundits predicted an onslaught of new world records would be set
by US athletes.34 Intensive media coverage marked a watershed in popular
American consciousness of the Olympics. Coverage of the 1896 Olympics
 David Lunt and Mark Dyreson 51

had been mainly restricted to the New England and New York newspapers
that focused on their local athletes who competed in Athens. Reporting in
American dailies expanded during the 1900 Olympic Games, but press cover-
age of the 1904 Games, sparked by the transfer controversy between Chicago
and St Louis, achieved a truly national scope.35 The media frenzy described
convincing American victories in Athens and Paris by focusing on track and
field events, which Americans had dominated. Newspaper reports forecast
intense competition from the world’s nations as the US strove to maintain
its Olympic supremacy. The St Louis Globe-Democrat anticipated that Greece,
Germany, Hungary, Australia, New Zealand and Canada would mount strong
challenges to the United States in these Olympic Games.36
These prognostications of a truly international Olympic competition, how-
ever, ultimately proved unfounded. American organiser James Sullivan hoped
to attract the ‘amateurs of the world’ to St Louis but very few of them from
outside of the US came.37 Small, unrepresentative contingents from Austria,
Canada, Cuba, Germany, the British Empire, Greece, Hungary, and Switzerland
made the journey to the interior of the North American continent. The lack of
foreign entries produced an Olympic festival that was principally an American
track meet dominated by US athletes. American writers were critical of the
lack of participation from other nations. Charles J. P. Lucas, who witnessed
and wrote a history of the 1904 games, criticised England for not sending ‘a
single competitor to America’, since the athletes from Great Britain hailed from
Ireland, Australia and New Zealand. Lucas also decried the ‘ingratitude’ of the
French people as evidenced ‘by an entire absence of representation’. Lucas
insisted that American participation in the 1900 Paris Games had made those
Olympics ‘a success’, since, without American presence, the Games ‘would
have been a farce’. Perhaps their nonparticipation was just as well, concluded
Lucas, since he doubted any Frenchman would have placed higher than fourth
in any event, and only one Englishman would have been likely to win.38
Without significant competition from foreign athletes, American newspapers
recast the St Louis Games as a contest between the East and West of the
United States – between the genteel, aristocratic Ivy Leaguers and the heirs to
the strenuous frontiersmen. One newspaper predicted that the athletes from
the Eastern states would be ‘compelled to drain the bitter dregs of defeat’.39
Another likened the Eastern athletes to Old World Europeans and hoped
that the Western athletes would defeat those from ‘the staid old East’.40 Such
characterisations underscored the era’s emphasis on the superiority of the
strenuous and vigorous lifestyle that sprang from the American frontier.
Five thousand spectators filed into the stadium on August 29, 1904 to watch
the first day of the track-and-field events.41 By day’s end, American athletes
had dominated the standings with 80 points. Ireland was the second-place
country with four points. Germany had scored three points and Hungary
52 The 1904 Olympic Games: Triumph or Nadir?

two.42 The American rout continued for the rest of the contests. During the
St Louis Games the organisers began the custom of awarding gold, silver and
bronze medals for first, second and third place finishes respectively. In the final
standings, the United States tallied 70 gold medals, 75 silver and 64 bronze.
The next closest nation was Cuba, whose athletes won five gold, two silver and
five bronze medals. The United States won gold in 21 of the 22 track and field
events, and took 42 of the 44 silver and bronze medals.43

The triumph of Western science: the 1904 marathon race

Louisiana Purchase Exposition officials claimed to offer ‘the most wonderful

exhibition of human progress’ by featuring demonstrations of humankind’s
‘newest and noblest achievements, its latest discoveries, its triumphs of skill
and science, its most approved solutions of social problems’.44 Science had
proved itself the essential tool for humankind’s increasing control over the
natural and physical world. Whether facing problems of locomotion, aviation
or social ills, scientific research could provide the solutions. As the Exposition
featured athletic progress among its many exhibits, scientists turned their
attention to athletic endeavours at the 1904 Olympic Games. Nowhere was
this belief in the efficacy and supremacy of science more evident than in the
running of the marathon.
The race boasted a more international group of competitors than most of the
events at the 1904 St Louis Games. Seventeen Americans, eleven Greeks (who
were residing in America and who had not trained for the race), one Cuban,
one South African and two ‘Kaffirs’ from ‘Zululand’ – on loan from the daily
re-enactments of the Boer War at the fair – competed. Unfortunately for the
32 runners who started the race, the course was less than ideal, and only 14 of
them would finish. Ninety-degree temperatures and intense humidity dogged
the runners as they made their way through hilly, rocky, dust-choked Missouri
roads. The first place where the athletes could find fresh water was near the
half-way point, 12 miles into the course. One runner, William Garcia of San
Francisco, swallowed so much dust that he suffered a near-fatal hemorrhage of
the lining of his stomach eight miles before the finish. Felix Carvajal, a mail-
carrier from Cuba, wore heavy street shoes and trousers with the legs cut off,
since he owned no running equipment. Observers estimated that Carvajal’s fre-
quent stops to chat with spectators cost him almost sixty minutes of time.45
When New Yorker Fred Lorz was the first athlete to enter the stadium, the
crowd erupted with shouts of American victory. ‘Pandemonium reigned for a
few moments’, reported the Globe-Democrat, before race officials learned that
Lorz had ridden several miles in an automobile.46 Charles Lucas, a physician
and athletic trainer who was an eyewitness to the race, condemned Lorz as a
cheat. The second-place runner when Lorz entered the stadium as the alleged
 David Lunt and Mark Dyreson 53

victor, Thomas Hicks, had slowed to a walk but picked up his pace when he
learned of Lorz’s disqualification. Hicks finished in three hours and twenty-
eight minutes and provided America with its first marathon champion.47
Despite Lucas’s accusations that Lorz had ‘robbed’ Hicks, ‘a man who, four
miles out on the road, was running the last ounces of strength out of his body’,
of his full glory, Lorz freely admitted that he had ridden in an automobile and
claimed no intent to deceive officials or spectators.48 Olympic director James
Sullivan, appalled by the circumstances of the race and the conditions of the
runners, proposed abolishing the marathon from future Olympic Games, but
his idea found little traction.49 Indeed, the marathon was associated with the
very limits of human endurance, and enthusiasts remembered the legend of
the unknown Greek runner (usually considered to have been Pheidippides)
who died from his efforts to bring the news of the Battle of Marathon to
Athens. The race would remain a part of the Olympic program.
The scientific staff from the Exposition’s Department of Physical Culture
sought to apply medical science to produce the most efficient athletic perform-
ance possible in the 1904 marathon race. In his re-telling of the event, Charles
Lucas gushed that this ‘race furnished information the like of which will be of
more value to scientists in the study of humanity than any event contested in
the stadium or in America for some years to come’. Among the scientific and
medical information this event produced, Lucas highlighted the ‘stamina of
the Caucasian race and the superior distance-running powers of the English
nation’, in spite of the fact that Cuban, Greek, and ‘Kaffir’ runners finished
fourth, fifth, and ninth respectively.50
In addition, the physician Lucas contended that the race showed ‘that drugs
are of much benefit to athletes along the road, and that warm-sponging is much
better than cold sponging for an athlete in action’. Indeed, Lucas himself acted
as part of Hicks’ support crew. Since Hicks was ‘far from being the best man
physically in the race’, medical science could claim responsibility for Hicks’
victory. Lucas explained that he, along with Hugh C. McGrath, had attended
to Hicks personally from the ten-mile mark to the finish. Lucas and McGrath
refused to allow Hicks any water during the race, preferring instead to sponge
out the runner’s mouth with distilled water. Twice during the last seven miles,
Lucas administered strychnine to help the runner’s flagging energy. Other medi-
cal measures included giving Hicks brandy, egg-whites, and bathing his head
and body in warm water. Towards the end of the race, although Hicks’ eyes were
‘dull, lusterless’, his face and skin were pale, he could barely lift his legs, and he
was suffering from hallucinations, Lucas enthusiastically recorded that ‘Hicks
was running mechanically like a well-oiled piece of machinery’. When he fin-
ished the race, Hicks was too exhausted to carry his own trophy. Medical exam-
iners found that he had lost eight pounds during the race and that his ‘vitality
was very low’. Nevertheless, the systematic application of scientific and medical
54 The 1904 Olympic Games: Triumph or Nadir?

expertise to the runner Hicks had brought America a glorious victory – ‘the
greatest honor ever brought to American shores by an American athlete’.51

An American triumph or the nadir of the Modern Games?

Most of the world ignored the St Louis Olympics. Many of the foreign observers
who paid any attention, such as Coubertin who read accounts from afar,
consigned the Games of the Third Olympiad to a sideshow at the Louisiana
Purchase Exposition, a sea of bad taste in an ocean of vulgarity. From those
distant perspectives later historians have fashioned the claims that St Louis
represents the nadir of the modern Olympic movement.
Nationalism, ethnocentrism, controversy, confusion, and boosterism at the
Modern Games, however, have not been exclusive to St Louis. Similar charges,
many of them accurate, crop up at every modern Olympics. Forgotten in the
debate about nadirs is the reality that in the turn-of-the-century United States
the St Louis Olympics played a crucial role in transforming the games from a
passionate hobby for East Coast elites into a nationally important spectacle
beloved by the American masses precisely for its quadrennial eruptions of
nationalism, ethnocentrism, boosterism and controversy.
American commentators at the 1904 St Louis Games interpreted their nation’s
victories as proof that the New World republic was far superior to Old World
social systems. With their overwhelming Olympic victories, the commoners of
the American republic had proven themselves superior to the European urban
elites. The rugged and strenuous lifestyles of the United States, embodied by its
relationship to the frontier, translated easily to superior athletes and superior
citizens. A special American ‘race’ and national identity had developed from
physical culture.
Along with the various exhibitions that chronicled the progress of human
civilisation, the Louisiana Purchase Exposition in 1904 emphasised the role of
athletics in shaping, measuring and comparing the achievements of human
cultures. As John Brisbane Walker informed his readers in Cosmopolitan, the elabo-
rate athletic program of the Louisiana Purchase Exposition had been designed
to produce ‘strong-bodied, sane-minded citizens’.52 Sport, then, had acted
as another technology intended to improve and benefit society.53 American
athletic leaders had realised their central purpose in the St Louis Olympics.
They had defined the Olympics according to American preferences and proven
(to themselves) the superiority of American civilisation over both the natural
‘savage’ and Old World European athletes. The American ‘race’, derived mainly
from white European stock and inculcated with American values – including
the values gained from strenuous, vigorous frontier lifestyles – had proven
its superiority. American athletic leaders at the 1904 Olympics believed that
they had educated the world in American athletic doctrines, connecting their
 David Lunt and Mark Dyreson 55

success in international competitions with national power, cultural vigour

and social progress. The United States, and other nations, have been seeking
to repeat similar lessons in boosterism, nationalism and ethnocentrism at
Olympic venues ever since.

Notes
1. One of the authors, Mark Dyreson, has made several journeys to St Louis to look at
the old sites. An interesting look at the history of the stadium can be found in Becht,
‘St Louis’ Old Olympic Stadium: A Photo Essay’.
2. Lennartz and his co-author indicted not only St Louis but Paris in 1900 for
nearly running the Olympic project into extinction. Lennartz and Zawadzki, Die
Olympischen Spiele 1906 in Athen; Lennartz and Zawadzki, Die Spiele der III. Olympiade
1904 in St Louis.
3. Barnett, ‘St Louis 1904’, 33.
4. For fascinating insights into the failed 1940 Japanese Olympics and fair see Collins,
The 1940 Tokyo Games: The Missing Olympics – Japan, the Asian Olympics and the
Olympic Movement.
5. For a variety of perspectives on these connections see Roche, Mega-Events and
Modernity: Olympics and Expos in the Growth of Global Culture; Dyreson, ‘Showcases
for Global Aspirations: Meditations on the Histories of Olympic Games and World’s
Fairs,’; Rydell, All the World’s a Fair: Visions of Empire at American International
Expositions, 1876–1916.
6. MacAloon, This Great Symbol: Pierre de Coubertin and the Origins of the Modern
Olympics.
7. This essay rests on primary research from US newspaper coverage of the 1904
Olympics and on the crucial materials on the Olympics and the Louisiana Purchase
Exposition housed at the Missouri Historical Society in St Louis. Additional archival
materials were collected from the United States Olympic Committee Archives in
Colorado Springs, Colorado, and the World’s Fairs collection at the Smithsonian
Institution Libraries in Washington DC. Existing scholarly histories of the St Louis
games include Dyreson, ‘The Playing Fields of Progress’; Dyreson, Making the American
Team: Sport, Culture, and the Olympic Experience; Brownell, The 1904 Anthropology Days
and Olympic Games: Sport, Race, and American Imperialism; Bill Mallon, The 1904
Olympic Games: Results for All the Competitors; and Matthews, America’s First Olympics:
The St Louis Games of 1904.
8. ‘Olympic Games in America’, New York Times, July 28, 1900, 5.
9. Barney, ‘Born From Dilemma: America Awakens to the Modern Olympic Games,
1901–1903’.
10. Furber, ‘Modern Olympic Games Movement’.
11. Baron Pierre de Coubertin to Sir, February 10, 1902, Executive Committee Minutes,
Louisiana Purchase Committee Minutes, Louisiana Purchase Company Collection, Series
XI, Subseries III, Folder 10 [typescript], Missouri Historical Society, St Louis, Missouri.
(Hereafter, MHS.)
12. Turner, The Significance of the Frontier in American History; Hofstader, The Progressive
Historians: Turner, Beard, Parrington.
13. On the strenuous life and sport as a substitute for frontiers, see Mrozek, Sport and
American Mentality, 1880–1910; Dyreson, Making the American Team.
56 The 1904 Olympic Games: Triumph or Nadir?

14. Indeed, a progressive-era chronicler of urban corruption named St Louis as among

the most wicked of American metropolises; Steffens, The Shame of the Cities. See also
Sandweiss, St Louis: The Evolution of an American Urban Landscape.
15. Riess, City Games: The Evolution of American Urban Society and the Rise of Sports.
16. Roosevelt quoted in Hanson, The Official History of the Fair, St Louis, 1904, with the
Assistance and Approval of the St Louis Fair Officials, 49–58.
17. For a more extensive development of that argument see Dyreson, Making the
American Team; and Dyreson, ‘The Playing Fields of Progress,’ 4–23.
18. Francis, The Universal Exposition of 1904, 536.
19. The official programs can be found in the Louisiana Purchase Exposition – Catalogue
of Physical Culture Department and Olympic Games Program, MHS. Sullivan, Spalding’s
Official Athletic Almanac for 1904, 184–187; Sullivan, Spalding’s Official Athletic
Almanac for 1905, 157–163; Francis, The Universal Exposition of 1904, 536–542. See
articles on associated sports in the New York Sun, Hartford Telegram, Kalamazoo
Telegraph, New York American, New York News-Telegram, New York Commercial-
Advertiser, Denver News, Louisville Courier-Journal and Shreveport Journal, in the
Louisiana Purchase Exposition Scrapbooks, Volume 31, MHS.
20. For a dynamic series of essays on sport, science, and race in St Louis see Brownell,
The 1904 Anthropology Days and Olympic Games.
21. WJ McGee, Official Catalogue of Exhibitions – Department of Anthropology, Universal
Exposition, 1904, 88 in the Louisiana Purchase Exposition Collection, Missouri
Historical Society, St Louis, Missouri; McGee, ‘Anthropology’, World’s Fair
Bulletin 5 (February 1904), 4–9; McGee, ‘Anthropology’, in The Division of Exhibits
(n.p.: n.d.), 45, in World’s Fairs microfilm collection, Smithsonian Institution
Libraries, Washington DC. For a fuller development of this argument see Dyreson,
‘The “Physical Value” of Races and Nations: Anthropology and Athletics at the
Louisiana Purchase Exposition’.
22. McGee, ‘Anthropology’, 4–9; McGee, ‘Strange Races of Men’; Francis, The International
Exposition of 1904, 522–529.
23. ‘Moros To Win Tribal Games’, St Louis Globe-Democrat, August 11, 1904, 4.
24. ‘Moro Athlete Approaches World’s Jumping Record’, St Louis Globe-Democrat, August
11, 1904, 4.
25. Sullivan, Spalding’s Official Athletic Almanac for 1905, 249.
26. ‘Indians First; Filipinos, Second; Patagonians, Third’, St Louis Star, August 13, 1904, 4.
27. Bennit, ed., History of the Louisiana Purchase Exposition, 567.
28. ‘A Novel Athletic Contest’, World’s Fair Bulletin 5 (September 1904), 50; Sullivan,
Spalding’s Official Athletic Almanac for 1905, 253–57.
29. Sullivan, Spalding’s Official Athletic Almanac for 1905, 257.
30. Baron Pierre de Coubertin, Une Campagne de 21 Ans (Paris: Librairie de l’Education
Physique, 1908), 161, as quoted in Guttmann, The Games Must Go On: Avery Brundage
and the Olympic Movement, 20.
31. ‘Disagrees with Russell Sage: Doctor McGee Praises Recreation as Builder of Mind,
Body, and Morals’, St Louis Republic, August 27, 1904, sec. 2, 1.
32. Peavy and Smith, Full-Court Quest: The Girls from Fort Shaw Indian School, Basketball
Champions of the World.
33. ‘Now for the Olympic Games, with the World’s Greatest Athletes in Competition!’,
St Louis Post-Dispatch, Sunday Magazine, August 28, 1904.
34. ‘The Olympic Games’, St Louis Post-Dispatch, August 28, 1904; ‘Olympic Games of
1904’, New York Times, July 20, 1904, 3.
35. Barney, ‘Born From Dilemma’, 92–135.
 David Lunt and Mark Dyreson 57

36. ‘Athletes of All Nations Will Battle in Olympic Games at Stadium Monday’,
St Louis Globe-Democrat, August 28, 1904, Scrapbook 1904 B, United States Olympic
Committee Archives, Colorado Springs, Colorado. (Hereafter USOCA.)
37. Sullivan, Spalding’s Official Athletic Almanac for 1904, 191.
38. Lucas, The Olympic Games: 1904, 15.
39. ‘Athletes of All Nations Will Battle in Olympic Games at Stadium Monday’.
40. ‘West Against All the World,’ Louisville Courier-Journal, July 31, 1904, Scrapbook 1904
B, USOCA.
41. The Chicago Tribune and St Louis Post-Dispatch counted 5000 spectators. The
St Louis Globe-Democrat counted 10,000 and another 1000 on a hillside. Charles
Lucas remembered 3000. See ‘NYAC Leads in Olympic Games’, Chicago Tribune,
August 30, 1904, 6; ‘New Olympic Records Made in Olympic Games’, St Louis Post-
Dispatch, August 30, 1904; and ‘American Athletes Smother Foreigners in Olympic
Championship Contests’, St Louis Globe-Democrat, August 30, 1904, all in Scrapbook
1904 B, USOCA; see also Lucas, The Olympic Games, 23.
42. Lucas, The Olympic Games, 40.
43. Associated Press and Grolier, Pursuit of Excellence: The Olympic Story (Danbury:
Grolier, 1979), 53; Sullivan, ed., Spalding’s Almanac for 1905, 167–171.
44. Lowenstein, Official Guide to the Louisiana Purchase Exposition, 5, 7; MHS.
45. Lucas, The Olympic Games, 51–60.
46. ‘Big Crowd Cheers When Lorz Finishes’, St Louis Globe-Democrat, August 31, 1904,
Scrapbook 1904 B, USOCA.
47. Lucas, The Olympic Games, 45–66. See also, ’Hicks, An American, Winner and
Hero of the Marathon Race’, St Louis Post-Dispatch, August 31, 1904; ‘Thos. Hicks
of Cambridge Won the Marathon Race’, St Louis Chronicle, August 31, 1904; ‘New
Englander Wins Marathon Race at the Fair’, St Louis Republic, August 31, 1904 in the
Louisiana Purchase Exposition – Olympic Games, MHS. ‘How the Great Marathon
Was Run and Won’, St Louis Star, August 31, 1904, 10.
48. Lucas, The Olympic Games, 46.
49. ‘Olympic Games Officials Condemn Marathon Race’, St Louis Globe-Democrat,
September 4, 1904, Scrapbook 1904 B, USOCA.
50. Lucas, The Olympic Games, 48–49.
51. Ibid., 46, 51–55.
52. Walker, ‘Athletics and Health’, 593.
53. For a detailed argument of American ideas about sport as a ‘social technology’, see
Dyreson, Making the American Team.

References

Monographs and journal articles

Associated Press and Grolier (1979) Pursuit of Excellence: The Olympic Story (Danbury:
Grolier).
Barnett, C. R. (2004) ‘St Louis, 1904’, in J. E. Findling and K. D. Pelle (eds), Encyclopedia
of the Modern Olympic Movement (Westport: Greenwood), 33–40.
Barney, R. K. (1992) ‘Born From Dilemma: America Awakens to the Modern Olympic
Games, 1901–1903’, Olympika, 1, 92–135.
Becht, J. W. (2004) ‘St Louis’ Old Olympic Stadium: A Photo Essay’, Journal of Olympic
History, 12 (May), 20–22.
58 The 1904 Olympic Games: Triumph or Nadir?

Bennit, M. (ed.) (1905[1976]) History of the Louisiana Purchase Exposition (St Louis:
Universal Exposition, 1905; repr., New York: Arno, 1976).
Brownell, S. (ed.) (2008) The 1904 Anthropology Days and Olympic Games: Sport, Race, and
American Imperialism (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press).
Collins, S. S. (2007) The 1940 Tokyo Games: The Missing Olympics –Japan, the Asian Olympics
and the Olympic Movement (London: Routledge).
Dyreson, M. (1993) ‘The Playing Fields of Progress: American Athletic Nationalism and the
1904 Olympics’, Gateway Heritage, 14 (Fall), 4–23.
Dyreson, M. (1998) Making the American Team: Sport, Culture and the Olympic Experience
(Urbana: University of Illinois Press).
Dyreson, M. (2008) ‘The “Physical Value” of Races and Nations: Anthropology and Athletics
at the Louisiana Purchase Exposition’, in S. Brownell (ed.), The 1904 Anthropology Days
and Olympic Games (Lincoln: University of Nebraska Press), 127–155.
Dyreson, M. (2010) ‘Showcases for Global Aspirations: Meditations on the Histories of
Olympic Games and World’s Fairs’, International Journal of the History of Sport, 27.16–18,
3037–3044.
Guttmann, A. (1984) The Games Must Go On: Avery Brundage and the Olympic Movement
(New York: Columbia University Press).
Hofstader, R. (1968) The Progressive Historians: Turner, Beard, Parrington (New York: Knopf).
Lennartz, K. and T. Zawadzki (1992) Die Olympischen spiele 1906 in Athen (Kassel: Kasseler
Sportverlag).
Lennartz, K. and T. Zawadzki (2004) Die Spiele der III. Olympiade 1904 in St Louis (Kassel:
Agon-Sportverlag).
MacAloon, J. (2009) This Great Symbol: Pierre de Coubertin and the Origins of the Modern
Olympic Games, 2nd ed. (London: Routledge).
Mallon, B. (1999) The 1904 Olympic Games: Results for All Competitors in All Events, with
Commentary (Jefferson: MacFarland).
Matthews, G. R. (2005) America’s First Olympics: The St Louis Games of 1904 (Columbia:
University of Missouri Press).
Mrozek, D. J. (1983) Sport and American Mentality, 1880–1910 (Knoxville: University of
Tennessee Press).
Peavy, L. and U. Smith (2008) Full-Court Quest: The Girls from Fort Shaw Indian School,
Basketball Champions of the World (Norman: University of Oklahoma Press).
Riess, S. A. (1989) City Games: The Evolution of American Urban Society and the Rise of Sports
(Urbana: University of Illinois Press).
Roche, M. (2000) Mega-Events and Modernity: Olympics and Expos in the Growth of Global
Culture (London: Routledge).
Rydell, R. (1984) All the World’s a Fair: Visions of Empire at American International
Exhibitions (Chicago: University of Chicago Press).
Sandweiss, E. (2001) St Louis: The Evolution of an American Urban Landscape (Philadelphia:
Temple University Press).
Steffens, L. (1904) The Shame of the Cities (New York: McClure, Phillips).
Turner, F. J. (2008[1893]) The Significance of the Frontier in American History (London:
Penguin).

Primary monographs and articles

‘A Novel Athletic Contest’, World’s Fair Bulletin, 5 (September 1904), 50.
Francis, D. R. (1913) The Universal Exposition of 1904 (St Louis: Louisiana Purchase
Exposition Company).
 David Lunt and Mark Dyreson 59

Furber, H. J., Jr (1902) ‘Modern Olympic Games Movement’, The Independent, 54

(February 13), 384–386.
Hanson, J. W. (1904) The Official History of the Fair, St Louis, 1904, with the Assistance and
Approval of the St Louis Fair Officials (St Louis: J. W. Hanson).
Lowenstein, M. J. (compiler) (1904) Official Guide to the Louisiana Purchase Exposition
(St Louis: Official Guide Co.).
Lucas, C. J. P. (1905) The Olympic Games: 1904 (St Louis: Woodward and Tiernan).
McGee, W. J. (1904a) ‘Anthropology’, World’s Fair Bulletin, 5 (February), 4–8.
McGee, W. J. (1904b) ‘Strange Races of Men’, The World’s Work, 5 (August), 5185–5188.
Sullivan, J. E. (ed.) (1904) Spalding’s Official Athletic Almanac for 1904 (New York:
American Sports Publishing).
Sullivan, J. E. (ed.) (1905) Spalding’s Official Athletic Almanac for 1905 (New York:
American Sports Publishing).
Walker, J. B. (1904) ‘Athletics and Health’, Cosmopolitan, 37 (September), 593–594.

Archival collections and newspapers

Louisiana Purchase Exposition Collection. Missouri Historical Society, St Louis,
Missouri.
United States Olympic Committee Archives, United States Olympic Committee, Colorado
Springs, Colorado.
World’s Fairs Microfilm Collection, Smithsonian Institution Libraries, Washington DC.

New York Times, 1900–1904.

Chicago Tribune, 1904.
St Louis Globe-Democrat, 1904.
St Louis Post-Dispatch, 1904.
St Louis Republic, 1904.
St Louis Star, 1904.
4
The Nazi Olympics: Berlin 1936
David Clay Large

Within the context of the modern Olympic movement, the 1936 Summer
Games in Berlin were especially innovative – perhaps the most innovative of all
the festivals since 1896. Berlin ’36 introduced the now-traditional Olympic torch
relay from ancient Olympia to the host city. The Berlin Games (along with the
companion Winter Games in Garmisch-Partenkirchen) were the first Olympics
to receive large-scale organisational and financial support from a national govern-
ment. The Berlin festival was the first to be broadcast worldwide by radio and
(albeit only locally and quite primitively) by television. Berlin pioneered the
release of doves on opening day. The track and field competitions that year
witnessed a major display of African-American talent, kicking off the later domi-
nance by blacks in the short-distance races and jumping events at the Games.
Jesse Owens, Berlin’s most celebrated black star, wore a pair of running shoes
given him by the Gebrűder Dassler Company of Germany (the forerunner of both
Adidas and Puma), thereby unwittingly opening the way for another form of
Olympic competition, that between sporting goods manufacturers for ‘exclusive’
endorsements by champion athletes. The ’36 Games featured a wide range of
the now-standard ancillary hoopla, such as dress balls, banquets, art exhibitions,
concerts and theatrical events. They encouraged a barrage of corporate adver-
tising, national and international. They made safety for visitors and athletes a
major priority, providing a security apparatus of unprecedented proportions.1
What Berlin ’36 is remembered for, however, is not so much organisational
innovation as political and racial controversy. Although their German organis-
ers tried to downplay or even deny the Berlin Games’ ideological dimensions,
they can justly be called the ‘Nazi Olympics’.

Boycott Berlin!

The International Olympic Committee (IOC) awarded the 1936 Summer

Games to Berlin in 1931, when Germany was still a democracy, albeit a

60
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 David Clay Large 61

beleaguered one. Less than two years later the Weimar Republic had collapsed
and the national government fell under the control of Adolf Hitler, whose Nazi
Party had for years expressed nothing but contempt for the modern Olympic
movement, and indeed for all high-level international sport. In the early 1920s
Nazi commentators had objected to Germans competing with athletes from
the Allied countries, which had imposed the ‘Yoke of Versailles’ on the nation.
They had also objected to ‘Aryans’ engaging in athletic battle with Slavs, blacks
and Jews.2 As late as 1932, Hitler himself had called the modern Olympic
Games ‘a plot against the Aryan race by Freemasons and Jews’.3
Not long after assuming power in January 1933, however, Hitler changed
his tune in regard to the Olympics, allowing himself to be convinced that
hosting the Games might bring a much-needed propaganda boost – not to
mention welcome hard currency – to the fledgling Third Reich. He also saw
in the Games an opportunity to demonstrate Germany’s ‘racial superiority’ on
the field of athletic battle. In addition to promising full financial and organi-
sational support from the state for the Games, Hitler’s government backed
away from the earlier Nazi position on Jewish and black athletes, promising to
welcome to Berlin ‘competitors of all races’.4
Although the IOC had initially worried that Hitler’s accession to power
might force it to reconsider its award of the ’36 Games to Berlin, the dutiful
assurances from his government and from Germany’s Olympic Organizing
Committee (GOC) that Germany would abide by all Olympic regulations,
persuaded the committee to stick with its 1931 decision. But if the IOC, which
as a matter of principle opposed changing venue decisions, proved satisfied
with the blandishments from Berlin, many critics of Nazi Germany around the
world remained convinced that that the Third Reich was no place to hold an
athletic festival that professed to promote peace and international brother-
hood. After all, the Nazi regime continued to persecute German Jews in most
avenues of public life, and German Olympic officials made clear that although
they would tolerate Jews and blacks on foreign teams competing in Berlin,
Germany’s own team would be exclusively ‘Aryan’.
In the face of these realities, an international movement calling for a large-
scale boycott of the Berlin Games took shape. Interestingly, the boycott move-
ment had its greatest resonance in the United States of America, a nation
hardly without its own tradition of racism, in sport as elsewhere. Whatever the
element of hypocrisy here, however, the American boycott effort came within
a hair of succeeding. And had the Americans pulled out, there is a good chance
that the British and French might have done so as well. In that case, Hitler’s
grand Olympic party would have been effectively ruined.5
Although the American effort to boycott Berlin began as an almost exclusively
Jewish affair, it soon broadened to include a number of influential groups and
individuals opposed to the policies of the new German government. At a mass
62 The Nazi Olympics: Berlin 1936

anti-Nazi rally in New York City’s Madison Square Garden in March 1934
some twenty groups, including the Amalgamated Clothing Workers’ Union,
the American Civil Liberties Union and the American Federation of Labor,
demanded an American boycott of the Berlin Games unless Jews were permit-
ted to try out for Germany’s Olympic team.
The boycott effort in the United States was bitterly opposed by Avery
Brundage, the crusty president of the American Olympic Committee (AOC) –
and future head of the IOC. His mantra was that ‘politics’ had no place in the
Olympics (though, of course, politics had been an integral part of the modern
Olympic experience from the beginning). In response to the growing boycott
movement, Brundage made a ‘fact-finding’ trip to Germany in the fall of 1934,
promising to investigate the sporting scene in the Third Reich. At one point he
put his Nazi hosts at ease by pointing out that his own men’s club in Chicago
would not admit Jews or blacks.6 Upon his return to America, he gave the
Germans a clean bill of health, saying he saw no evidence of racism and echo-
ing German assurances that there would be no discrimination against any of
the foreign athletes.
Brundage’s whitewash of Nazi Germany was not the only tactic adopted by
the US Olympic establishment to blunt the boycott threat. In late summer
1935 Charles Sherrill, one of three American members of the IOC, travelled
to Germany with the goal of persuading Hitler to name at least one Jew to its
Olympic team, a gesture he privately compared with the American tradition of
the ‘token Negro’.7
Although Hitler initially rebuffed Sherrill, Germany’s Olympic officials genu-
inely shuddered at the prospect of an American boycott, which they rightly
feared might expand to include other nations. Thus in the end the Germans
agreed to a strategic concession: Germany would name a half-Jewish fencer
named Helene Mayer to its team for Berlin. (For the Germans, the pain of this
decision was eased by the fact that Mayer, an excellent fencer, looked perfectly
‘Aryan’ and studiously avoided any criticism of Hitler’s policies.)8 The Mayer
concession did not completely eliminate the American boycott threat, but in
a crucial American Olympic Committee vote in December 1935 Brundage was
able to outmanoeuvre his opponents and secure American participation in the
Berlin Games. The Yanks’ decision to go to Berlin guaranteed the participation
of the other Western democracies as well. In the end, no nations elected to
boycott Berlin (though Spain failed to send a team because of the outbreak of
the Spanish Civil War in July 1936).

The inaugural Olympic torch relay

As was perhaps fitting for a regime that pioneered sophisticated propaganda

techniques to promote its ideological agenda at home and abroad, the
 David Clay Large 63

organisers of the 1936 Olympics launched a promotional campaign for the

Berlin Games that was unprecedented in its scope and ambition. The NOC
hired a stunt flyer to advertise the Games in the US and enlisted the famous
Zeppelins to carry the word about Berlin to South America. At home a travel-
ling show labelled Der Olympia-Zug (The Olympic Train) travelled the length
and breadth of Germany, stopping in villages and towns to unveil photographs
and scale models of the elaborate athletic facilities being constructed in the
Reich capital. The theme running through the displays was that the upcoming
Games were a ‘national task for the German people’.9
By far the most innovative and ambitious promotional gambit, however, was
the carrying of the ‘Olympic Flame’ from the ruins of ancient Olympia to the
Olympic Stadium in Berlin by means of a relay involving more than three
thousand torch-bearing runners. This relay, which covered seven countries
in twelve days on the eve of the Berlin Games, can be seen as an ‘invented
tradition’ within the invented tradition of the modern Olympic Games. There
had been no such relays in the ancient Games or in any of the modern festi-
vals starting in 1896. Alas, the 1936 relay proved such a successful advertising
device that this travelling circus became an integral part of Olympic pageantry
from then on.10
In contrast to the mostly innocuous torch relays of the postwar era, however,
the 1936 spectacle did more than simply generate interest in the upcoming
Games: it constituted an advertisement for the Nazi Reich across southeastern
and central Europe, an area coveted by the Hitler regime – and soon to be
traversed in the opposite direction by the invading Wehrmacht. At various
moments during this meticulously orchestrated affair, the underlying political
and ideological implications became quite overt. Thus, following a ceremonial
igniting of the Olympic torch at the ruins of ancient Olympia, Nazi Germany’s
ambassador to Greece apostrophised the Olympic flame as a greeting across
the ages ‘to my Führer Adolf Hitler and his entire German people’. With
encouragement from the relay organisers, local orators in villages along the route
in Greece expressed the gratitude of the ‘new Hellas’ to the ‘new Germany’ for
having instituted the torch relay; some villagers reportedly even shouted ‘Heil
Hitler’ as the torch went by. When the torch passed through Vienna local Nazis
used the occasion to demonstrate wildly in favour of ‘coming home to the Reich’,
prefiguring the Anschluss two years later. In the heavily ethnic-German Sudeten
region of western Czechoslovakia (which a German Propaganda Ministry poster
advertising the relay showed as belonging already to the Reich) pro-Nazi demon-
strators hailed the torch as a beacon from Berlin, whereas relay runners passing
through the Slavic portions of the country had to be protected by police escort.
Throughout the final stages of the relay in Germany, all the torchbearers had to
be blue-eyed blond ‘super-Aryans’ – living embodiments of the physical ideals
preached by Nazi leaders (but rarely realised in their own physiognomies).
64 The Nazi Olympics: Berlin 1936

As if to provide an illustrious pedigree for the empire envisaged by the hosts

of the Berlin Games, the 1936 torch relay posited a symbolic bridge between
modern Germany and classical Greece. According to Carl Diem, the philhel-
lenic secretary-general of the GOC and mastermind behind the relay, this
enterprise could be understood as a reawakening of the mythic cult surrounding
Prometheus, whose theft of fire from the gods for the betterment of mortals had
been honored in antiquity by torchlight parades. Never mind that there
had been no torchlight parades at Olympia: in Diem’s fervid imagination the
‘sacred flame’ that had burned in the Temple of Zeus during the ancient Games
prefigured the torches carried by Hitler’s followers on the night of his inaugura-
tion in January 1933. Diem’s appropriation of the torch imagery in 1936, how-
ever fanciful, should remind us that the German Olympic organisers and their
Nazi backers believed that they were the true heirs of the ancient Greeks and
the most worthy stewards of the pagan-religious and militaristic values inherent
in the original Olympic Games. In addition to the torch relay, this supposed
kinship between classical Greece and modern Germany found expression in
Nazi Germany’s revival of earlier German archeological excavations at ancient
Olympia; in an exposition during the Berlin Games entitled ‘Sport in Hellenic
Times’; and of course in the neo-Dorian architectural style of the monumental
Olympic Stadium, in whose design Hitler himself had a hand.11

‘Darktown Parade’: African-Americans and the issue of race

in the Berlin Games

As is well known, Nazi Germany’s hope that the Berlin Games would display
the unambiguous superiority of the white race – especially the ‘Aryan’ white
race – was foiled, at least in part, by the brilliant performance of America’s black
superstar, Jesse Owens, who won four gold medals in track and field. But what
is less well known is that Owens’ great success was part of a larger triumph by
his black teammates. In Berlin African-American athletes won a total of thirteen
medals in track and field, a display of black power that prompted an American
journalist to speak of a ‘Darktown Parade’.12
Impressive as this performance was, however, the American blacks’ presence
at the Berlin Olympics lies less in the medal haul per se than in the political
and social controversy surrounding African-American participation in the
Games, as well as in the manner in which the black success was understood
and interpreted by commentators in Germany – and in America itself. In the
end, the story of Jesse Owens and the other African-American Olympians at
Berlin turns out to be rather more complicated than a simple tale of triumph.
During America’s boycott debate prior to the Berlin Olympics some African-
American organisations had insisted that blacks must shun the ‘Nazi Games’
on grounds that Hitler’s Germany was as hostile to Negroes as it was toward
 David Clay Large 65

Jews. The National Association for the Advancement of Colored People warned
that American blacks might actually be mistreated if they dared to show up
in the Reich capital. At one point even Jesse Owens indicated that he might
boycott Berlin. In the end, however, American black athletes proved just as
susceptible to the siren call of Olympic adventure as American Jewish competi-
tors, and none chose to stay away.
As it happened, America’s black Olympians received a cordial welcome
from German Olympic officials and the populace at large. Jesse Owens was
mobbed by autograph-seekers wherever he went in Berlin. What Owens and
his colleagues did not know, however, was that their every move was being
monitored by the German police, who were determined to prevent any
‘unsuitable’ contacts between the visitors and the natives. Fearing possible acts
of miscegenation between the American blacks and willing German women,
the Gestapo issued fifty-two warning citations to female citizens ‘for approach-
ing foreigners, especially colored foreigners, in an unseemly manner’.13
The great athletic triumphs of Owens and company were, not surprisingly,
much celebrated in the American press, although newspapers in the American
South tended to record the victories without any commentary, and not a sin-
gle southern paper printed a photograph of Owens. In Germany, per orders of
propaganda boss Joseph Goebbels, newspapers avoided discussing the racial
issue in connection with the African-American performances.
According to the American black-owned press, Hitler was so upset over
Owens’ victories that he refused to shake the athlete’s hand. The charge of a
Hitler ‘snub’ was immediately taken up by the mainstream press in America and
has since become part of the popular lore about the Berlin Games. The snub
story, however, is largely a myth. Before Owens’ first victory Hitler had been
instructed by IOC President Henri Baillet-Latour that if he chose to publicly
congratulate Olympic victors in the stands (as he had done on the first day of
competition), he would have to congratulate every winner in similar fashion
down the line. Perhaps anticipating that he would have to press the flesh with
Owens and other blacks, Hitler promised that for the rest of the Games he
would not personally congratulate any of the victors in his stadium box. On the
other hand, even had he not made this preemptive promise, Hitler would prob-
ably not have shaken Owens’s hand, for he genuinely loathed black people; as
he later told one of his aides, ‘I would never shake the hand of a black man’.14
It should be noted, too, that Owens did not claim at the time to have been
snubbed by Hitler, insisting on the contrary that it was President Roosevelt who
had shown disrespect for him. As Owens told a group of American blacks
after his return from Berlin, ‘Hitler didn’t snub me – it was our president
who snubbed me. The president didn’t even send me a telegram’.15 Moreover,
Owens actually admired Hitler, calling him a ‘man of civility’ and ‘the man
of the hour in Germany’ – a leader who in his view deserved better treatment
66 The Nazi Olympics: Berlin 1936

from the American press.16 (Owens went on to become a poster boy of Olympic
virtue in the eyes of the white Olympic establishment. He was trotted out by
IOC President Avery Brundage and the United States Olympic Committee to
condemn the ‘Black Power’ demonstration by American runners John Carlos
and Tommie Smith at the Mexico City Games of 1968.)17
Contrary to another piece of popular mythology, the splendid victories by
Owens and other African-American athletes at the Berlin Games did not sig-
nificantly challenge prevailing theories of white athletic supremacy in Hitler’s
Germany – or, for that matter, in FDR’s America. Nazi leaders, including Hitler,
argued that America’s black athletes were little more than gifted freaks who
owed their victories to their ‘jungle inheritance’.18 Disgusted by America’s
reliance on ‘animals’ to win medals, an official in the German Foreign Office
huffed: ‘If Germany had had the bad sportsmanship to enter deer or another
species of fleet-footed animal, it would have taken the honors from America in
the track events.’19 (Germany ended up winning the largest number of medals
overall in the Berlin Games, but finished behind America in the track and field
events.) Influential American pundits and sports experts offered similar expla-
nations for the victories of Owens and his black teammates. Assistant US track
coach Dean Cromwell, for example, opined: ‘The Negro excels in the events he
does because he is closer to the primitive than the white man. It was not long
ago that his ability to spring and jump was a life and death matter to him.’20
Owens’s own coach, Larry Snyder, argued that his ‘boy’ and other black sprint-
ers owed their success to ‘the striation of their muscles and the cell structure
of their nervous system’ – not to mention their willingness to take orders from
their white coaches.21 In the end, then, the black successes in 1936 hardened
earlier stereotypes regarding racial differentiation, whereby blacks were said to
possess biological advantages in certain events, but, owing to alleged character
and intellectual shortcomings, could never surpass whites in contests requiring
discipline, fortitude, stamina, strategy and teamwork. Thus, according to the
wisdom of the day, blacks might manage to win in the sprints and the jumps,
but could never be any good in basketball or long-distance running.

Olympia

The fact that Jesse Owens showed up prominently in Leni Riefenstahl’s

epochal two-part documentary film about the Berlin Olympics, Olympia,
helped buttress the director’s claim that her film was not biased in favor of the
home team, or racist or ideological in any way. To her dying day Riefenstahl
insisted that Olympia was purely an ‘art film’, entirely devoid of political
content. Certainly her work was a brilliant piece of cinematography, filled with
innovative techniques and highly arresting footage. Yet when viewed closely,
Olympia turns out to be anything but neutral or ‘non-political’.22
 David Clay Large 67

With respect to the film’s treatment of those triumphant African-American

athletes, Olympia, while undoubtedly making Owens one of the stars,
studiously ignores the other American blacks, even in events where they domi-
nated. While the film does not tout Germany’s overall victory in the national
medal count, it does reflect a bias in favor of home-team athletes. The best
slow-motion shots are reserved for German competitors, their victories are
emphasised by heightened musical pathos, and a huge amount of footage is
reserved for events in which Germany excelled, such as the equestrian com-
petition. Germany’s fascist allies, Italy and Japan, also receive a great deal of
attention, while Czechoslovakia, a nation at loggerheads with the Reich over
the Sudetenland, earns not a single shot.
In the original German version of Olympia (in contrast to sanitised, foreign-
language versions), Hitler is shown so frequently that one gets the impression
that he was a consistent presence in the stadium, which was not the case. The
Führer comes across in the film not as a glowering demigod, as he does in
Riefenstahl’s famous documentary on the 1934 Nuremberg Party Rally, Triumph
of the Will, but as an everyday sports fan, gladdened by the Reich’s victories,
saddened by its defeats. Most of the time, he is seen laughing and smiling, just
having fun.
While the portrait of Hitler is scrupulously innocuous, the soundtrack in the
German version is full of subtle – and sometimes not-so-subtle – ideological
messaging. The competition is often described in terms of racial and national
battles. Thus, in the 100-metre dash we have black runners lining up against ‘the
strongest representatives of the white race’. The 200-metre breaststroke event in
the swimming competition is presented not as a matchup between individuals
but as a ‘blood-battle’ between Germany and Japan. Three Finnish racers grouped
together in the marathon are described as ‘three runners, one country, one will’,
an echo of the Nazi slogan, ‘One nation, one people, one leader’.
In the end, even the versions of Olympia designed for foreign consumption
manage to convey some key principles and aesthetic ideals dear to the Nazis.
The film’s prologue, dwelling as it does on classical Greek imagery, postulates
the purported ties between Nazi Germany and ancient Greece. The prologue to
part 2, Fest der Schönheit (Festival of Beauty), takes us on a tour of the Olympic
Village just as dawn is breaking. Amidst bucolic surroundings we see athletes
from around the world running through the woods, sprawling in lounge
chairs, happily lashing each other with birch branches in a Finnish sauna.
This imagery of playful exuberance and togetherness on the eve of the serious
business to come is reminiscent of the footage in Triumph of the Will showing
Hitler Youth Brigades frolicking before the Nuremberg Party Rally. Although
the athletes in Olympia are not Nazis, we are meant to see the Olympic Village,
like the Hitler Youth encampment at Nuremberg, as an expression of the
communitarian ethos supposedly at the heart of the Nazi Volksgemeinschaft.23
68 The Nazi Olympics: Berlin 1936

Above all, Olympia’s vaunted celebration of the ‘body beautiful’ ties in closely
with Nazi Germany’s glorification of health, strength and physical perfection.24
Although Communism, too, idealised strong and healthy bodies, the Nazi aes-
thetic differed from the Communist one in its preference for naked bodies in
a natural setting – part of its Romantic ‘blood and soil’ ethos. Olympia is very
effective in this regard, focusing on bare skin and prominent musculature to
create the illusion (almost) of warriors doing battle in the nude, as they did in
the ancient Games.
After Olympia’s premiere in April 1938, Goebbels presented Riefenstahl with
the National Film Prize, declaring that her work would ‘stand for German
prowess in the eyes of the entire world and testify to the greatness of our peo-
ple in these times’.25 Olympia also garnered great praise in fascist Italy, winning
the Coppa Mussolini at the Venice Film Festival of 1938. But perhaps the most
revealing prize came not from Riefenstahl’s fascist admirers but from the IOC,
which, at the urging of Avery Brundage, awarded her the Olympic Diploma
in 1939. According to the IOC, Riefenstahl’s work was perfectly in tune with
‘les idéals olympiques’.26

The long shadow of Berlin

Not just Leni Riefenstahl’s famous documentary of the Berlin Games, but the
1936 Olympic festival itself earned glowing accolades from the IOC. Avery
Brundage, who became a member of the IOC in 1936, called the Berlin Games
‘the best ever’, a verdict with which IOC President Baillet-Latour heartily con-
curred. In 1937 the committee awarded the Olympic Cup to the Nazis’ Kraft
durch Freude (Strength through Joy) organisation for its services to Olympism
during the 1936 Games.27
If the IOC considered the Berlin Games a great success, so did Adolf Hitler –
and for good reason. We should remember that at the time of the Olympics
the Nazi dictatorship was still a work in progress, the Hitler regime struggling
to solidify its hold on power in the face of a debilitating depression and
widespread fears among the populace that the government’s ambitious rearma-
ment program might draw the country into a new war. The Olympic Games
were important to the Nazis because they conveyed – above all to the German
people themselves – the image of a regime dedicated to economic progress at
home and peace abroad.
Of course, subsequent history quickly proved the promise of peace and
prosperity cruelly illusory. As far as the international Olympic movement was
concerned, the horrors committed by the Third Reich during the Second World
War led to the Germans’ exclusion from the first postwar Olympics, those of
St Moritz and London in 1948. And even though the new nation of West
Germany was readmitted to the Olympic fold in 1952, for the Oslo and Helsinki
 David Clay Large 69

Games, few could have imagined in the early postwar era that another Olympic
festival might take actually place on German soil in the foreseeable future.
And yet, in April 1966, little more than two decades after the end of the
war, the IOC awarded the 1972 Summer Games to the West German city of
Munich – a town that in living memory had prided itself on being the birthplace
of Nazism and the ‘Capital of the [Nazi] Movement’. This surprising decision
reflected the committee’s confidence in the new West German democracy and
in the ‘new Munich’, which advertised itself as West Germany’s ‘secret capital’.
The organisers of the 1972 Games certainly did everything in their power to
show the world a brand new Germany – a kinder and gentler place that had
nothing in common with the nation that hosted the Berlin Games of 1936.
Alas, this push to erase the memories of the bad old times embraced even the
security arrangements for the ’72 festival, which were kept purposefully mini-
mal and relaxed. (For example, the fence surrounding the Olympic Village had
no barbed wire and the Olympic guards carried no weapons.) One of the bitter-
est ironies of the ‘Munich Massacre’ of September 5–6, 1972, in which eleven
Israeli Olympians were murdered by Palestinian terrorists, is that this horror
was facilitated in part by the German organisers’ well-meaning effort to emerge
fully and joyously from the long shadow cast by Berlin ’36.28
The brown-shirted ghosts of Germany’s first home-turf Olympiad were still
hovering in the background when, in the early 1990s, Berlin itself, now the
capital (once again) of a reunified Germany, made a surprise bid for the 2000
Olympic Summer Games. Berlin boosters cited the city’s triumph over ideologi-
cal divisions as an excellent reason to celebrate the 2000 Games in their town.
No doubt this claim had virtue, but the Berlin bid was badly botched from the
beginning. Amazingly, the Berlin promoters chose the aging Olympic complex
from 1936 as the primary venue for the 2000 Games. According to this plan,
Olympic dignitaries would salute the athletes from the very same podium used
by Hitler sixty-four years before. This proposal offended even many Germans,
who argued that a new Olympic festival on the tainted ground of the old one
would represent an insult to the memory of all those who had suffered under
the Nazis. The Berlin bid also became mired in scandal and the sort of finan-
cial mismanagement that generally plagued the newly reunified city.29 Many
Berliners expressed relief when the 2000 Games were awarded to Sydney.
The IOC’s decision in 2001 to award the 2008 Summer Games to Beijing,
China, brought the ‘Nazi Games’ of 1936 once again into the perennial debate
about Olympic venues because some critics saw this move as a ‘tragic echo’
of 1936, when the Games had been used to ‘validate’ an oppressive political
system.30 In explaining its controversial Beijing award, the IOC availed itself
of exactly the same argument it had used in connection with Berlin ’36 (and,
for that matter, with the Moscow Games of 1980) – namely, that putting on an
Olympic festival would change the host country for the better, make it more
70 The Nazi Olympics: Berlin 1936

‘open’ and democratic’.31 This claim has proven as dubious for contemporary
China as it was for Nazi Germany and the Soviet Union, so it is perhaps fitting
that part of the transportation network for the Beijing Games was designed by
Albert Speer Jr, whose father had helped design the Olympic Stadium of 1936.

Notes
1. General studies of the Berlin Olympics include Mandell, The Nazi Olympics; Krüger,
Die Olympischen Spiele 1936 und die Weltmeinung; Hart-Davis, Hitler’s Games: The 1936
Olympics; Walters, Berlin Games; Large, Nazi Games: The Olympics of 1936.
2. ‘Neger haben auf der Olympiade nichts zu suchen’, Vőlkische Beobachter, August 19,
1932.
3. Hart-Davis, Hitler’s Games, 45.
4. Teichler, ‘Zum Ausschluss der deutschen Juden von den Olympischen Spielen 1936’,
47–48.
5. On the international boycott movement, see Large, Nazi Games, 69–109.
6. Krüger, Die Olympischen Spiele 1936, 52.
7. Aufzeichnung über den Empfang am 24.8.34, 4508, Politisches Archiv, Auswärtiges
Amt, Berlin.
8. Large, Nazi Games, 86–7. For a biography of Mayer, see Mogulof, Foiled: Hitler’s Jewish
Olympian.
9. Diem, Ein Leben für Sport, 175.
10. On the torch relay, see Large, Nazi Games, 3–9.
11. On the alleged ties between ancient Greece and Nazi Germany, see ibid., 9–11.
12. Large, ‘“Darktown Parade”: African-Americans in the Berlin Olympics of 1936’, 6–8.
13. Krüger, Die Olympischen Spiele 1936, 194.
14. von Schirach, Ich glaubte an Hitler, 217–18.
15. Olympic File, Box 384, NAACP, Library of Congress, Washington DC.
16. Baker, Jesse Owens: An American Life, 137.
17. Hoffer, Something in the Air. American Passion and Defiance in the 1968 Mexico City
Olympics, 178–179.
18. Speer, Inside the Third Reich, 70–73.
19. Dodd, Through Embassy Eyes, 212.
20. Baker, Jesse Owens, 45.
21. Snyder, ‘My Boy Jesse’, 100.
22. On Olympia, see Large, Nazi Games, 295–315; McFee and Tomlinson, ‘Riefenstahl’s
Olympia: Ideology and Aesthetics in the Shaping of the Aryan Body’.
23. McFee and Tomlinson, ‘Riefenstahl’s Olympia … ’, 91.
24. Alkemeyer, ‘Images and Politics of the Body in the National Socialist Era’, 60–61;
Sontag, ‘Fascinating Fascism’, 23–30.
25. Kinkel, Die Scheinwerferin: Leni Riefenstahl und das ‘Dritte Reich’, 154.
26. Guttmann, The Games Must Go On. Avery Brundage and the Olympic Movement, 91.
27. Large, Nazi Games, 317.
28. On the terrorist attack, see Large, ‘Massacre in Munich: The Olympic Terror Attack
in Historical Perspective’.
29. ‘Picture Is Dimming for Games in Berlin’, New York Times, 14 July 1992.
30. CNN, Com/World, July 14, 2001.
31. ‘Delegates Hope Choice Spurs Openness’, New York Times, 14 July 2001.
 David Clay Large 71

References
Alkemeyer, T. (1995) ‘Images and Politics of the Body in the National Socialist Era’, Sports
Science Review, 4.1, 55–65.
Baker, W. J. (1986) Jesse Owens: An American Life (New York: Free Press).
Diem, C. (1974) Ein Leben für Sport (Reutlingen: Fauser Verlag).
Dodd, M. (1939) Through Embassy Eyes (New York: Harcourt Brace and Company).
Guttmann, A. (1984) The Games Must Go On. Avery Brundage and the Olympic Movement
(New York: Columbia University Press).
Hart-Davis, D. (1986) Hitler’s Games: The 1936 Olympics (London: Century).
Hoffer, R. (2009) Something in the Air. American Passion and Defiance in the 1968 Mexico
City Olympics (New York: Free Press).
Kinkel, L. (2002) Die Scheinwerferin: Leni Riefenstahl und das ‘Dritte Reich’ (Hamburg:
Europa Verlag).
Krüger, A. (1972) Die Olympischen Spiele 1936 und die Weltmeinung (Berlin: Bartels &
Wernitz).
Large, D. C. (2007) Nazi Games: The Olympics of 1936 (New York: W. W. Norton).
Large, D. C. (2007) ‘”Darktown Parade”: African-Americans in the Berlin Olympics of
1936’, Historically Speaking, 9.2, 6–8.
Large, D. C. (2009) ‘Massacre in Munich: The Olympic Terror Attack in Historical
Perspective’, Historically Speaking, XII.1, 3–6.
McFee, G. and A. Tomlinson (1997) ‘Riefenstahl’s Olympia: Ideology and Aesthetics
in the Shaping of the Aryan Body’, International Journal for the History of Sport, 16.2,
90–96.
Mandell, R. D. (1971) The Nazi Olympics (New York: Macmillan).
Mogulof, M. (2002) Foiled: Hitler’s Jewish Olympian (Oakland: RDR Books).
von Schirach, B. (1967) Ich glaubte an Hitler (Hamburg: Mosaik Verlag).
Sontag, S. (1975) ‘Fascinating Fascism’, New York Review of Books, 6 February.
Speer, A. (1970) Inside the Third Reich (New York: Avon).
Snyder, L. (1936) ‘My Boy Jesse’, Saturday Evening Post, 7 November.
Teichler, H.-J. (1989) ‘Zum Ausschluss der deutschen Juden von den Olympischen Spielen
1936’, Stadion XV, 1, 44–53.
Walters, G. (2006) Berlin Games (New York: William Morrow).
5
The Early Cold War Olympics,
1952–1960: Political, Economic and
Human Rights Dimensions
Barbara Keys

Five years after the Truman Doctrine signalled the beginning of the Cold
War, Olympic sport joined the fray. At the 1952 Helsinki Olympic Games,
the Soviet Union and its Eastern bloc satellites made their first appearance on
the Olympic stage as communist nations, thereby setting off the superpower
competition for medals that would do so much to shape and colour the Games
of the next four decades. Helsinki and its successors in Melbourne in 1956
and Rome in 1960 – the first three ‘Cold War’ Summer Olympic Games – set
the patterns that would frame international sporting competition until the
1980s. The Games of the 1950s saw greater but still constrained opportuni-
ties for women athletes, increasing professionalisation and commercialism, an
expanding membership of non-Western countries as decolonisation gathered
speed, and steady growth toward the gigantism of today’s spectacle. Although
some observers have called these ‘the innocent Olympics’, the period was char-
acterised by deep politicisation, East–West rivalry, an anachronistic approach
to the livelihoods of athletes, and the rise of commercial television coverage.
Nothing engages public interest in sport more than a high-stakes rivalry, and
the Cold War provided Olympic sport with a rivalry of heretofore unheard-
of global significance. As international sport joined the struggle for ‘hearts
and minds’, East–West rivalry became the central dramatic narrative for the
Olympics, propelling the Games to previously unimaginable political and popu-
lar visibility. Medal counts and issues such as which flags and anthems were
used became fraught with political ramifications. Governments celebrated wins
as national achievements and agonised over the national flaws defeats were sup-
posed to have revealed. It was a recipe for enormous public interest, and the Cold
War gave the Olympic Games an extraordinary global status and influence. Even
more than the space race, the Olympics engaged the imaginations of people
around the world. The Cold War boosted the Olympic spectacle in all areas:
spectatorship and viewership, the size of the events and the athletic contingents,
the financial footprint of the Games, and the levels of commercialisation.

72
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 Barbara Keys 73

While reaping the benefits wrought by the Cold War, the IOC did little to
adapt to new international order that came into being after the Second World
War. The Games of 1952 to 1960 occurred during a time of tremendous global
ferment, but what is perhaps most striking about these festivals is the glacial
pace at which the IOC recognised and accommodated itself to the rapidly shift-
ing terrain. The organisation behind the Games, the International Olympic
Committee, in 1952 tapped Chicago millionaire Avery Brundage as its new
president. Brundage’s deeply conservative views set the tone in the postwar
years, helping to insulate the Olympic Games from the radical shifts that
were transforming postwar societies and global affairs. Brundage’s IOC often
operated on the basis of a striking ignorance of international politics, crony-
ism and insensitivity to local conditions, especially in the Third World. The
admission of the Soviet Union was the IOC’s most significant concession to the
new political configurations of the post-Second World War era. In other areas,
including the recognition of communist China and East Germany, adherence
to restrictive amateur rules, and acknowledgment of the role of human rights
in international affairs, the IOC adopted profoundly conservative approaches,
more in tune with a world that no longer existed than the one that was coming
into being. Entering the upheavals of the 1960s, the IOC represented a largely
reactionary rather than a progressive force for change in social, political and
international affairs.

Political dimensions

Olympic enthusiasts have been tenacious adherents of the myth that inter-
national sport should exist in a pure realm untainted by politics. In reality,
of course, international sport cannot exist in a separate sphere independent
of politics; the two have always been deeply intertwined. Yet in the eyes of
the IOC and many in the West, the key Cold War controversies were waged
between those who wanted to drag Olympic sport into the political mud and
those who wanted to retain its purity and innocence.1 The myth of separate
spheres was deeply embedded in Western notions of sport, so much so that,
for example, even as US State Department officials wrote about their increasing
influence within the IOC, they claimed with utter sincerity that their objec-
tive was not to achieve their own political objectives but merely to prevent
the ‘totalitarian’ mixing of sport and politics.2 Countries that spoke this
language succeeded in Olympic terms; those that did not were rebuffed. The
self-serving myth pervaded the IOC’s actions in the Cold War: its own deci-
sions were apolitical; when other parties pushed different agendas, they were
inserting politics into sports.
In the standard narrative, politics at the early Cold War Olympics revolved
primarily around the long-running controversies over the admission of the
74 The Early Cold War Olympics, 1952–1960

Soviet bloc, East Germany, North Korea and China. Yet these issues, while
important (and discussed below), were arguably of less significance than the
stance the IOC adopted toward the rapid expansion of nation-states in an era
of decolonisation. On the one hand, the IOC welcomed new nations into the
Olympic fold and provided them with an important means for gaining inter-
national recognition and legitimacy. In the new international system, march-
ing in the opening parade at the Olympic Games became a central marker of
belonging – a reassuring symbol of nationhood much like having a flag and a
national anthem. The universalism embedded in the Olympic Games has been
an important force in the creation of sense of international community and
common humanity.3
It is also true, however, that the IOC offered highly circumscribed opportu-
nities to non-Western nations. Unlike most nongovernmental organisations,
the organisation was fundamentally undemocratic, its membership appointed
on the basis of closed selection procedures. It often operated like an ‘old-boys’
club’, making decisions not on the basis of informed debate but according to
the preferences of its most well-established members. In 1956, for example,
when the Australian territory of Papua applied for recognition of its National
Olympic Committee, Australia’s IOC member condemned the application
because Papua was not an independent state, and there was no further discus-
sion.4 Even when allowed to participate, Third World countries were rarely
allowed a meaningful voice in the governance of the Olympic ‘movement’,
membership in which was still largely limited to wealthy white Westerners. The
original intention to allow every country with a recognised National Olympic
Committee to have one or two members in the IOC was abandoned as new
nations in Asia and Africa began to proliferate, leaving many new participants
without decision-making power over which events were staged, the selection of
host cities, and rules governing participation. These issues had major implica-
tions: which events were included in the Olympic program, for example, could
have dramatic effects on which countries were likely to win medals and hence
on perceptions of power in the international system.
In 1960 the IOC’s 65 individual members were overwhelmingly representa-
tives of the developed world: 38 – almost 60 per cent – were from Western
Europe and North America. The rest of the globe, with the vast bulk of the
world’s population, was sparsely represented: eleven members were from Latin
America, eight from the Soviet bloc, three from Asia, and a handful from Africa,
the Indian subcontinent and the Middle East. Virtually all of the IOC’s mem-
bers were white; many had aristocratic titles, and those who did not were men
of wealth and privilege. Women were expressly excluded. The IOC Executive
Board consisted of seven Europeans, an American and an Egyptian.5
Brundage opposed efforts to open the IOC’s membership or to democratise its
selection procedures. In the late 1950s Brundage consistently blocked proposals
 Barbara Keys 75

for reform put forward by the Soviet Union, which hoped to gain more power
for the communist bloc and to curry favor in the Third World by making the
IOC more broadly representative.6 As author David Maraniss puts it, Brundage
preferred to run the IOC ‘like a secret society, the selection of members deter-
mined by a coterie of upper-class gentlemen and various counts, princes, and
marquesses, the last dying vestiges of European royalty’.7 The selection criteria
the organisation used are aptly illustrated in a 1959 letter from Otto Mayer,
chancellor of the IOC, that helped secure the selection of Reginald Stanley
Alexander to represent Kenya: ‘My idea is he would be a very good member for
us. He is young, very Olympic minded; he is British (not a coloured man!), and
I wonder if it would not be a good idea to have once a member in that section
of the world, that means Africa?’8
In similar fashion, Brundage’s IOC applied backward-looking solutions to the
core problems of representation in the Cold War era. The IOC’s ill-informed
efforts at German reconciliation are one example. The ‘German problem’ in
Olympic sport stemmed from the postwar division of Germany and the uncer-
tainties created as the Western Allies slowly moved to create a separate and
independent West Germany without formally repudiating reunification as the
eventual goal.9 By 1949, the de facto division was clear, but when East Germany
first applied in 1955 to compete in the Olympic Games, the IOC required East
and West to field a united team.10 When the two sides marched as a unified
team at the opening ceremony in Rome in 1960, Brundage congratulated
the IOC for achieving in sport what the politicians had failed to do: German
unification.11 It was nothing more than a fiction that ignored political realities,
and by 1968 the IOC gave up, allowing the fielding of separate German teams.
Brundage’s similar effort to force a deeply divided Korean peninsula into a joint
team produced nothing but failure. The cooperation of two countries that had
just concluded a bitter, bloody war in which millions had died was profoundly
unrealistic, and North and South Korea unsurprisingly refused to play along
with Brundage’s wishful thinking. As a result, South Korea competed in 1960,
but North Korea did not.12
Such political ignorance and clumsiness were nowhere more in evidence
than in the IOC’s handling of the question of Chinese representation. Since
the 1949 Chinese Revolution, Taiwan and the People’s Republic of China had
each claimed to be the legitimate representative of China. Two years after the
communist takeover, the IOC allowed Taiwan’s sports authority to register
the Chinese Olympic Committee in Taipei through a simple change of address.
As historian Guoqi Xu notes, it was a careless decision made without consid-
ering the enormous political implications of the move, one whose complica-
tions embroiled the IOC in difficulties for decades.13 In 1959 the IOC pushed
Taiwan’s national Olympic committee to withdraw its title as representative of
‘China’ and compete under the name ‘Taiwan’, a move that accorded with the
76 The Early Cold War Olympics, 1952–1960

political reality that Taiwan had no control over sports on mainland China.
Having adopted what was essentially a pro-Taiwan position for years, the IOC’s
concession to political realism provoked a substantial backlash from Taiwan
and its supporters. Furious at the decision, the Taiwan delegation held up an
‘Under Protest’ sign at the opening ceremony in Rome.14 In the United States
Brundage was vilified as a communist sympathiser by the right wing, which
viewed the ruling on Taiwan as a capitulation to ‘the Reds’.15
When it came to the crucial question of the admission of the PRC, the world’s
most populous country, the IOC’s ignorance of China and the Chinese regime’s
ignorance of IOC norms converged to produce an insurmountable obstacle to
a workable relationship. At its core, the IOC refusal to admit the PRC stemmed
from the PRC representatives’ failure to mouth the right slogans about keep-
ing sport free from politics. Initially eager to participate in international sports
events, the PRC refused to compete at the Olympics if Taiwan was also present,
and stated its case in a way that seemed calculated to offend IOC sensibilities.
The IOC’s easily prickled leaders simply labelled this stance ‘political’, exacer-
bating tensions through ignorance of basic facts like the country’s name. In
1958, the PRC formally withdrew from the IOC, calling further cooperation
with Brundage impossible. Not until the 1976 Montreal Games, a full five
years behind the United Nations decision to hand the Security Council seat
to the PRC, did the IOC succeed in fashioning a compromise, admitting the
PRC as representative of China and refashioning Taiwan as the Chinese Taipeh
Olympic Committee.16
In the early Cold War Olympics, both sides in the superpower conflict were
quick to recognise and exploit the propaganda value of the Games. Politicians
and the press hailed medal counts as evidence of the superiority of one system
over the other. Soviet-bloc participation in Games hosted by Western cities
provided occasion for the communist press to print stories of hardships and
inequities in Western societies. The Czech press, for example, reported during
the Oslo Winter Games in 1952 that homeless, ill-dressed children roamed the
streets, shortages of goods like cigarettes were common, and workers were paid
low wages; the Polish press alleged that ‘white slave traders sent girls to try to
influence’ Polish athletes.17 That the Soviet bloc’s participation in the Olympic
Games represented part of the communist world’s genuine commitment to
peace was a consistent theme in its press reporting throughout the Cold War.18
In light of the growing international significance of international sport, Soviet-
bloc athletes were subjected to enormous pressure to win and placed under
stringent political surveillance. In the years after its entry into the Olympic
Games, Stalin’s regime expected its competitors in international competitions
to win – or not to go at all.19 To discourage defections and enforce standards
of behaviour, communist-bloc sports teams were accompanied by secret police
handlers and political representatives who offered an hour a day of obligatory
 Barbara Keys 77

political schooling. In 1952 and 1956 the Soviet and some Eastern European
teams were housed separately from the Olympic Village to save money, to
maintain discipline and to curtail contacts with Western athletes.20 Even after
Stalin’s death in 1953, the ‘thaw’ in other areas of Soviet life was scarcely felt in
sport. The KGB and its informers scrutinised the activities of Soviet athletes who
travelled abroad, and athletes who had any contact with Russian émigrés came
under suspicion. The Soviet regime regarded emigrants from the Soviet Union as
traitors and provocateurs, and contact with émigrés while abroad was regarded
as evidence of espionage. Sitting too long in a café and being approached by
Soviet émigrés was enough to bring athletes under suspicion.21
On the other side of the Iron Curtain, Soviet-bloc athletes were typi-
cally viewed, as one American politician put it, as ‘human weapons in the
Communist conspiracy’s cold war arsenal’.22 Western journalists – writing as
often for the politics section as for the sports pages – frequently employed
military tropes, describing Soviet athletes as ‘an army’, as ‘weapons’, as part
of a Soviet ‘offensive’, and warning that Soviet victories were ‘powerful propa-
ganda’ that was ‘boosting Soviet prestige around the world’ and making the
West look weak.23 US News and World Report approvingly noted:

Among millions of people throughout the world, athletic skill carries enor-
mous prestige. It is regarded by many as an indication of national health
and vigor. Not only that. Athletes are proving to be powerful propaganda
agents, effective ambassadors of good will. A champion athlete can open
doors that diplomats cannot unlock.24

Much like Sputnik and the alleged ‘missile gap’, Soviet-bloc successes in
athletic competitions fed American fears that communism was gaining ground
in the Cold War. The Soviet Olympic debut in 1952 resulted in a medal tally
that came worryingly close to the US total. Then the USSR handily won the
1956 Winter Games in Cortina d’Ampezza, Italy, giving American athletes
what one journalist referred to as a ‘terrific shellacking’, and in Melbourne the
Soviets won 96 medals to the Americans’ 74.25 Brundage lamented that after
the Soviets’ impressive victory at Cortina, a ‘wave of hysteria’ swept American
sport circles.26 Private citizens wrote to President Eisenhower and to their con-
gressmen, enclosing newspaper clippings and asking for government action.27
The US Information Agency’s survey of the worldwide press reaction to the
Games reassuringly concluded that emphasis on US–USSR rivalry in the Games
was not a major element of reporting abroad, but noted worrisome trends in
the way Communists in the Third World were playing up Soviet gold medals
as evidence of the country’s superior political system.28
As in the Soviet camp, the Olympic Games became part of the worldwide
propaganda efforts of the United States. At the 1952 Winter Games, the
78 The Early Cold War Olympics, 1952–1960

United States Information and Educational Exchange Program (USIE) sent

five representatives who filed stories, taped interviews and sent photographs
all over the world. Rather than focusing on American athletes, the reporting
highlighted the achievements of countries like Chile and Pakistan that had
small press corps on the scene and played up political angles such as the fact
that Eastern European athletes were closely tailed by security officials.29 The
USIE also arranged for demonstration events by Olympic team members in
various countries and broadcast reports on the Games for the Voice of America
(which had a sports editor).30 In order to prevent ‘incidents’ that might damage
American interests, Washington unofficially attached a consular officer to the
American team at the Helsinki Summer Games to brief the team members and
to smooth over any ‘situations’ that might arise.31
The significance attached to medal counts in the Olympics is also apparent
in the reactions of American politicians. Senator John Marshall Butler was the
most vocal critic to use sports to bash the Eisenhower administration. A con-
servative Republican from Maryland, Butler called the Olympics an ‘extremely
important, but greatly underestimated and neglected aspect of our interna-
tional relations’. Arguing that the Soviets were trying to ‘use every devious and
foul trick in the book’ to subvert the hallowed Olympic ideal of amateurism,
Butler introduced a Congressional resolution urging that the American ath-
letic community do ‘everything humanly possible’ to effect the disbarment of
Soviet athletes from the Games.32 Yet the official US position remained rela-
tively hands-off throughout the 1950s. When the chair of the Senate Foreign
Relations Committee asked the State Department to comment on Butler’s reso-
lution, the State Department replied that the resolution only made it look like
Americans were being unsportsmanlike and trying to make excuses because
another country was going to win.33 This stance made the United States
government something of an anomaly: the dominant postwar trend was for
governments to make Olympic competition a matter of state, with government
support and funding commensurate with the political significance the Games
were taking on in the new international environment.

Human rights dimensions

To apply human rights standards to the Olympic Games of the 1950s is anach-
ronistic. Until the human rights ‘revolution’ of the 1970s spawned movements
to enforce human rights and made the concept the world’s new moral lingua
franca, human rights were the province of international lawyers and visionary
documents with no enforcement powers.34 Yet the IOC, whose nondiscrimina-
tory principles had arguably represented a progressive force before World War II,
was remarkably slow to recognise changing norms in the field of human rights
after 1945. International criticism of racism and segregation in the American
 Barbara Keys 79

South helped moved the Eisenhower administration toward domestic reform in

order to improve the country’s international image.35 In the face of similar, if
less pressing, public criticism, the IOC clung to its founding myth: that apply-
ing political considerations to sport represented a perversion of hallowed ideals.
When upholding other Olympic ideals came into conflict with the myth of
apoliticism – as they necessarily did – apoliticism invariably won.
Despite its longstanding, lofty claims to promote international peace and
goodwill, which had been embedded in the Olympic vision by founder Pierre
de Coubertin at the end of the 19th century, the IOC adhered to an extremely
narrow interpretation of its mandate for most of its first century. Through the
1970s its leaders asserted that – vague rhetorical claims aside – its specific juris-
diction extended only to nondiscrimination in the selection of Olympic teams.
Even as the ink was drying on the United Nations’ 1948 Universal Declaration
of Human Rights, Brundage and his associates were welcoming into the
Olympic fold a country that violated virtually the entire corpus of civil and
political rights then being enshrined as universal standards. Though a staunch
anti-communist, Brundage considered the Soviet Union’s internal political
repression irrelevant to the Olympics. His sole concern was with the USSR’s
flagrant violations of amateur standards, violations he was willing to overlook
for a potentially competitive newcomer likely to increase the Olympics’ popu-
larity. The conservative Republican became, at least where the Olympic Games
were concerned, an ardent defender of the Soviet Union.36
Even in areas that fell directly under the IOC’s self-limiting mandate, the IOC
resolutely turned a blind eye. The USSR’s main antagonist, the United States,
hardly had an unblemished record in human rights. Throughout the 1950s and
1960s, the Soviet propaganda machine seized every opportunity – and there
were many – to tarnish the reputation of the United States by publicising inci-
dents of racism and racial tensions and violence.37 These incidents extended
to the realm of sport, where racial discrimination had tangible effects on the
ability of African-American athletes to compete in elite-level sport and hence
participate on US Olympic teams. Unlike the UN, which throughout the 1950s
viewed its power to monitor and police human rights abuses as trumped by
the principle of state sovereignty, the IOC simply viewed human rights issues
as beyond its purview altogether.38
South Africa’s blatant anti-black discrimination in sport likewise drew no
rebuke from the IOC. Norway and the Soviet Union began agitating against
South Africa’s apartheid policies in the late 1950s, and as early as 1955,
European condemnations of apartheid pointed to implications for inter-
national sporting contacts, including the Olympic Games. In 1955 the London
Times described apartheid as a violation of human rights and noted that ‘non-
European’ athletes were being excluded from South African teams ‘in violation
of the Olympic Games constitution forbidding discrimination on grounds of
80 The Early Cold War Olympics, 1952–1960

colour, religion, or politics’.39 Yet when South Africa fielded all-white Olympic
teams, Brundage simply accepted the country’s assurances that blacks did not
have the requisite athletic skills, turning a blind eye to systematic discrimina-
tion in all areas of athletic training and competition.40 Speaking of South Africa
in 1966, Brundage implied that fighting racism was futile: ‘We cannot penalize
a National Olympic Committee for something its government does, or we will
not have any left, since the perfect government has not yet been invented.’41
It was only in 1964, at a time when South Africa had become a pariah nation
in international affairs, that the IOC yielded to extraordinary pressure from
African countries in beginning to ban the apartheid regime from the Games.
When governments and national Olympic committees tried to inject human
rights considerations into their own Olympic policies, the IOC resorted to
its default position, the specious argument that sport had to be kept free of
politics. The manifest impossibility of adopting apolitical solutions to politi-
cal issues was resolved by the useful fiction that the IOC’s preferences were,
by definition, free of political taint. As the Manchester Guardian astutely com-
mented in 1959 in relation to the Olympic controversy over Taiwan, ‘When are
politics non-political? When they happen to be your own’.42 In 1956, for exam-
ple, Spain, the Netherlands and Switzerland withdrew from the Melbourne
Olympics in protest against the Soviet invasion of Hungary.43 Brundage’s
response was pure pragmatism: ‘In an imperfect world, if participation in sports
is to be stopped every time the politicians violate the laws of humanity, there
will never be any international contacts.’44 Not only did the IOC refuse to press
standards of conduct; it criticised countries that brought human rights criteria
into sport.45 Sports Illustrated encapsulated the IOC’s viewpoint when it wrote
that the 1956 withdrawals made the Olympics ‘a court for the aggrieved, as
if there was no longer room at United Nations for the differences of the world.
The walls of the Olympic stadium were not intended either for political bill-
boards or for the placards of the righteous’.46

Economic dimensions

For the IOC, the primary economic issue affecting the Games was the impera-
tive that athletes not be economically motivated. Brundage, a former decathlete
described by Sports Illustrated as ‘a man with a discus where his heart should
be’, adhered to an uncompromising code of amateurism.47 ‘Slavery Avery’, as
athletes sometimes called him, had stark and simple views on amateurism.
For ‘sport to be sport [it] must be amateur’, and to be amateur it must be
‘nothing more than recreation. [. . . ] The moment that financial, commercial,
or political considerations intrude’, an athlete ceased to be an amateur.48 For
the millionaire Chicagoan, keeping money out of the pockets of athletes was
about keeping sport ‘pure and clean and honest’.49
 Barbara Keys 81

Yet Brundage’s position on amateurism in the Cold War years was based
on double standards. Soviet-bloc athletes, variously dubbed state amateurs or
‘shamateurs’ in the West, were part of a state-run system that showered them
with benefits and paid them salaries for fictitious jobs. Despite official denials,
the fundamentals of the system were widely known in the West from detailed
accounts published by émigrés.50 Considering himself powerless to change the
Soviet system, Brundage ignored it as best he could. Instead, he focused his
efforts on maintaining ‘purity’ in the West. Not only were Western athletes
banned from accepting commercial endorsements and outright professional-
ism; athletes were also enjoined from remunerative activities such as appearing
on television game shows and writing magazine articles that might conceiv-
ably be construed as rewards for their athletic achievements.51 When American
decathlete Rafer Johnson was offered a role in a Hollywood film based on the
life of Spartacus, the Amateur Athletic Union – following the IOC’s outmoded
rules – told him he would be ineligible to compete in the 1960 Olympic Games
if he accepted the role. He was being hired, the AAU said, not because of his
acting ability but because of his athletic fame; the role was therefore the same
as being paid for a track meet.52
While athletes were prohibited from profiting from sports, the IOC itself felt
no such constraints. The early Cold War Olympic Games saw the introduction
of televised broadcasts of the Games, an innovation that would eventually lead
to an extraordinary enrichment of the IOC. Television had made appearances
at earlier Olympic Games: first at the Berlin Olympic Games, where events were
partly televised via a grainy closed-circuit format to viewing locations within
the city; in London in 1948, the British Broadcasting Corporation paid the
Organising Committee a small sum to broadcast to the limited number of
London homes with television sets.53 Technological innovations and the
spread of television ownership presented the first real possibilities for extensive
broadcasting at the Melbourne Games of 1956, but the potential remained
unrealised due to a myopic clash between organisers and television executives,
as a result of which international television coverage was minimal.54
The 1960 Games thus represented a new stage in the financial and commer-
cial evolution of the Games, as the extent of international broadcasting and
the attendant fees paid for the first time reached significant levels. The 1960
Rome Organizing Committee sold the US broadcast rights to the Columbia
Broadcasting System (CBS) for $600,000 and European rights to the European
Broadcasting Union for $668,000: serious money by the standards of the time.55
The windfall set off protracted wrangling over revenue sharing among the IOC,
host city organising committees and international sport federations. Without
anticipating how much potential revenue television broadcasting would soon
represent, the IOC had formalised a policy on television rights in 1958 that
called for the IOC to distribute revenues from the sale of broadcast rights.56
82 The Early Cold War Olympics, 1952–1960

Ignoring this ruling and citing earlier rules instead, the Rome organisers
forwarded only 5 per cent of net proceeds to the IOC.57 It was only in later
years that the IOC gained control over the distribution of television revenues,
which grew at truly Olympic rates. They amounted to $10 million in 1968 and
then doubled or tripled during every Olympics until topping $2.5 billion in
Beijing in 2008. At Rome, television revenues amounted to $1 of every $400 it
cost to host the Games. By 1972 the ratio was 1:50 and by 1984 it was 1:3.58
Television’s potential to transform the Olympic spectacle was only partially
realised by 1960. It was not until the 1964 Tokyo Olympic Games that the
introduction of satellite broadcasting allowed live viewing of events even in
places far removed from the action, representing a huge leap in enhancing the
spectator appeal of the Olympic Games. Colour television, introduced in 1972,
and the general expansion of coverage in quantity and sophistication after
1960 made the early Cold War coverage look amateurish in comparison.59
Television coverage would eventually transform the Olympic spectacle; it
was also transformative for the IOC itself. Before the sale of broadcast rights
flooded the IOC’s coffers with millions of dollars, the organisation had few
sources of revenue other than the small streams from contributions from host
cities and membership fees. In the 1950s the IOC was chronically underfi-
nanced, suffering from what one member called an ‘everlasting lack of funds’.60
It was a tiny organisation with a miniscule permanent staff and a small budget
that teetered on the brink of insolvency. Top leaders paid for most of their
own expenses, and Brundage personally subsidised some of the administrative
costs.61 Television revenues dramatically reversed the organisation’s financial
status. By 1974, 98 per cent of its income came from television.62
The scale and cost of the Olympics burgeoned in the 1950s as the event
started on the march toward present-day gigantism. Even in Melbourne in 1956,
which saw a drop in numbers of participants because of the distances required
to travel to Australia, the Olympic Village required a staff of 2200 maids, wait-
ers, cooks, gardeners, guards and maintenance staff. The 23 dining halls with
90 ovens served nearly 25,000 meals daily and offered 5000 different dishes; the
stockpile of food required to feed the athletes included ten tons of butter, 76
tons of fresh vegetables, and 100 tons of meat.63 The costs of providing security
and infrastructure improvements began to climb in tandem with the growing
size of the Games. These costs had indirect human rights implications, as they
often redirected government spending away from social welfare programs.64

***

In a recent book on the 1960 Rome Olympic Games, journalist and author David
Maraniss suggests that the Games helped usher in a new order, characterised
by doping and professionalism in sports, television and commercialisation,
 Barbara Keys 83

and recognition of the rights of new nations. The pressures of the Cold War,
Maraniss writes, ‘played an underappreciated role in forcing change’ on the
Olympic Games.65 Change worked the other way as well, the book’s subtitle
proposes: the 1960 Games were ‘the Olympics that changed the world’.
The three Olympiads of the early Cold War period suggest much more force-
fully that the opposite was the case: that a deeply conservative IOC remained
unattuned and resistant to the new international order that was coming into
being in the wake of the Second World War. The IOC acceded to a few more
events for women, but the events remained a male-dominated spectacle, and
Brundage refused to open the IOC’s doors to women as members: the rules
officially barred them.66 The organisation’s stance toward potential members
from new, non-Western entrants into the Olympics was only slightly less inhib-
iting. The IOC touted the awarding of the 1956 Games for the first time to a
country in the southern hemisphere as a major symbol of the global aspira-
tions of the Olympics, but the defeat of Buenos Aires in the balloting in favor
of Melbourne – in a white settler country that still recognized the Queen of
England as head of state – was a victory not for change but for the old order.
The IOC’s charter embraced nondiscrimination as a core principle, but even
as movements challenging racial discrimination gathered force, the organ-
isation remained indifferent. Its principles of amateurism were throwbacks to
a 19th-century ideal of gentlemen athletes.
As they always do, the competitions saw memorable athletic achieve-
ments. There were the usual moments of high tension, including the Soviet-
Hungarian water polo match in 1956, which degenerated into a bloody fight,
and of friendship in the face of rivalry, as with Taiwanese decathlete C. K. Yang
and his American competitor Rafer Johnson. From the gold medals of the
Soviet Union’s Vladimir Kuts in long-distance running and the Indian field
hockey team’s sixth gold medal at the 1956 Games, to the graceful victories
of American runner Wilma Rudolph in 1960, Olympic athletes continued
to excel and to entertain. Sub-Saharan Africa won its first gold medal when
Ethiopia’s Adebe Bikila won the marathon in 1960. The IOC may have been
tenacious in looking backward to the 19th century, but the athletes were
pushing the Olympic Games into a new era.

Notes
1. On sport and international relations, see Keys, ‘International Relations’.
2. Elwood Williams III to Schukraft, 23 August 1951, 800.4531/9-2851, State Department
Decimal Files, RG 59, U.S. National Archives and Records Administration, College
Park, Maryland [hereafter SDDF].
3. Keys, Globalizing Sport: National Identity and International Community in the 1930s,
186–190.
84 The Early Cold War Olympics, 1952–1960

4. Extract of the Minutes of the 52nd Session of the International Olympic Committee
in Melbourne, 19–21 November and 4 December 1956, Bulletin du Comité International
Olympique (May 1957), no. 58, 48.
5. Organizing Committee of the Games of the XVII Olympiad (1960), The Games of
the XVII Olympiad (Rome), Rome: Organizing Committee of the Games of the XVII
Olympiad, 1960 [hereafter Official Report], Vol. I, 13.
6. Guttmann, Games and Empires: Modern Sports and Cultural Imperialism, 134–136. For
a thorough discussion of the Soviet initiative, see Parks, ‘Red Sport, Red Tape: The
Olympic Games, the Soviet Sports Bureaucracy, and the Cold War, 1952–1980’.
7. Maraniss, Rome 1960: The Olympics That Changed the World, 54.
8. Quoted in ibid., 55.
9. See Eisenberg, Drawing the Line: The American Decision to Divide Germany,
1944–1949.
10. According to the State Department, it was the American representatives on the IOC
who were ‘largely responsible’ for East Germany’s failure to win recognition, which
had been supported by the British. U.S. Legation in Vienna to Washington, 8 May
1951, 800.4531/5-857, SDDF. On State Department efforts to lobby the American
IOC representatives, see Washington to Vienna, 4 May 1951, 800.4531/5-451, SDDF.
On the use of the Olympics in both states, see Balbier, Kalter Krieg auf der Aschebahn:
Der deutsch-deutsche Sport 1950–1972. Eine politische Geschichte.
11. Quoted in Guttmann, The Games Must Go On: Avery Brundage and the Olympic
Movement, 155.
12. Bridges, ‘Reluctant Mediator: Hong Kong, the Two Koreas and the Tokyo Olympics’;
see also Espy, The Politics of the Olympic Games, 66–67. The intransigence of the IOC
is captured in an official extract of the 1956 session: one member commented that
‘he knew the situation in North Korea and that in his opinion it would be impossible
to make [a joint team]’. Brundage then reported that ‘the South Koreans whom he
had met expressed the same view’. Oblivious to the implications of what it had just
heard, ‘the Committee decided to appeal again to the Koreans to cooperate as the
Germans did’. Extract of the Minutes of the 52nd Session, Bulletin du Comité, 48.
13. Xu, Olympic Dreams: China and Sports, 1895–2008, 96.
14. Ibid., 93.
15. ‘Brundage Denies Pressure by Reds,’ New York Times, 4 June 1959.
16. The best account is in Xu, Olympic Dreams, 75–163; see also Brownell, Beijing’s Games:
What the Olympics Mean to China, 134, and Espy, Politics of the Olympic Games, 62–66,
145–54.
17. ‘Iron Curtain, Yugoslav and German Participation in Olympic Winter Games’, Oslo
Embassy to Washington, 16 April 1952, 800.4531/4-752, SDDF.
18. On Soviet participation as a form of cultural exchange, see Keys, ‘The Soviet Union,
Cultural Exchange, and the 1956 Melbourne Olympic Games’.
19. Keys, ‘Soviet Sport and Transnational Mass Culture in the 1930s’, 432; Parks, ‘Verbal
Gymnastics: Sports, Bureaucracy, and the Soviet Union’s Entrance into the Olympic
Games’, 37–39.
20. M. Iu. Prozumenshchikov, Bol’shoi sport, bol’shaia politika, 174.
21. Ibid., 70, 30. Among the 489-member Soviet team to Melbourne, for example, were
15 KGB agents disguised as secretaries and translators. Ibid., 58.
22. Senate Concurrent Resolution 78, 84th Congress, 2nd. Session, 7 May 1956,
800.4531/5-1856, SDDF.
23. US News and World Report, 10 February 1956, 35; ibid., 20 August 1954, 35; Saturday
Evening Post, 30 April 1955, 28; Time, 19 November 1956, 65. See also Richard
 Barbara Keys 85

B. Walsh, ‘The Soviet Athlete in International Competition’, State Department

Bulletin, 25 (24 December 1951), 1007–1010.
24. US News and World Report, February 10, 1956, 35ff.
25. Baltimore News-Post, February 21, 1956.
26. US Information Agency Intelligence Summary, ‘World-wide Press Reaction to the
Winter Olympic Games’, 24 May 1956, 4, USIA Records, Record Group 306, Office
of Research – Intelligence Bulletins, Memos, and Summaries, 1954–56, Box 8, IS-
55 (306/250/67/18/06-07), National Archives, College Park, MD [hereafter USIA
Records].
27. See, for example, Gene Usdin to Sherman Adams, White House, October 10, 1955,
SDDF 800.4531.
28. USIA, ‘World-wide Press Reaction’.
29. Walsh to Compton, ‘Report on 1952 Winter Olympic Games at Oslo, Norway’, Office
of Educational Exchange, 3 April 1952, SDDF 800.4531. On US propaganda in this
period, see Belmonte, Selling the American Way: U.S. Propaganda and the Cold War.
30. A 1951 memo notes that these efforts included sending American sports-related
films abroad; 3 October 1951, SDDF 800.4531/10-351. On the high publicity value
of American sports in France, see Paris to Washington, 6 November 1951, SDDF
800.4531/11-651. On efforts VOA broadcasts, see Oslo to Washington, 14 November
1951, SDDF 800.4531/11-1451, Helsinki to Washington, SDDF 800.4531/2-2952.
31. Washington to Helsinki, 12 June 1952, SDDF 800.4531/6-352.
32. Senate Concurrent Resolution 78, 84th Congress, 2nd Session, 17 May 1956, in SDDF
800.4531/5-1856.
33. State to Senate Foreign Relations, 31 May 1956, SDDF 800.4531/5-1856.
34. See Keys and Burke, ‘Human Rights’.
35. Dudziak, Cold War Civil Rights: Race and the Image of American Democracy.
36. Avery Brundage, ‘I Must Admit – Russian Athletes Are Great!’, Saturday Evening Post,
227 (30 April 1955), 28ff. In correspondence with the editor, Brundage expressed
concerns about being labelled a Communist sympathiser because of the article – as
indeed he was; Maraniss, Rome 1960: The Olympics That Changed the World, 452,
n250.
37. See Dudziak, Cold War Civil Rights, 115–151.
38. On the UN and human rights in the 1950s, see Keys and Burke, ‘Human Rights’.
39. The Times (London), 13 October 1955, 6.
40. Maraniss, Rome 1960, 88, 402; Espy, The Politics of the Olympic Games, 69–70.
41. Brundage to Reginald Stanley Alexander, 3 May 1966, quoted in Maraniss, Rome
1960, 402–403.
42. Quoted in Xu, Olympic Dreams, 92.
43. The Netherlands donated $25,000 to Hungarian relief in lieu of sending a team.
‘Nations Protest Actions of Russia’, New York Times, 7 November 1956, 43.
44. ‘Nations that Withdrew urged to Return to Olympic Games’, New York Times,
10 November 1956, 22.
45. ‘World Olympic Group Rejects Brundage’s Proposal on Oath’, New York Times,
20 November 1956, 61.
46. Coles Phinizy, ‘The 1956 Olympics’, Sports Illustrated, 5, no. 21 (19 November
1956), 44.
47. Robert Creamer, ‘The Embattled World of Avery Brundage’, Sports Illustrated, 30,
January 1956.
48. ‘Avery Brundage on Amateur Sport and Broken Time’, Olympic Review, 1954,
20–21.
86 The Early Cold War Olympics, 1952–1960

49. Handwritten notes, 8 September 1960, Avery Brundage Collection, microfilm copy at
the Amateur Athletic Federation Library, Los Angeles CA [hereafter ABC], Box 246.
50. One example is F. Legostaev, Fizicheskoe vospitanie i sport v SSSR (Munich: Institut po
izucheniiu istorii i kul’tury SSSR, 1952).
51. On amateurism, see also Keys, ‘Rome 1960: Birth of a New World?’.
52. Maraniss, Rome 1960, 34–35.
53. Barney et al., Selling the Five Rings: The International Olympic Committee and the Rise of
Olympic Commercialism, 51–58.
54. Keys, ‘The 1956 Melbourne Olympic Games and the Postwar International Order’,
304–306.
55. Barney et al., Selling the Five Rings, 74; ‘C.B.S.-TV to Cover Olympics on Tape’,
New York Times, 10 June 1959.
56. Barney et al., Selling the Five Rings, 68–69; Maraniss, Rome 1960, 133.
57. Barney et al., Selling the Five Rings, 74.
58. Maraniss, Rome 1960, 409; ‘Beijing Olympics TV Rights Revenue Top US$2.5bn’,
OnScreen Asia, 19 May 2008, available at www.onscreenasia.com (accessed 10
January 2010).
59. Toohey and Veal, The Olympic Games: A Social Science Perspective, 130.
60. Prince Axel of Denmark, quoted in Barney et al., Selling the Five Rings, 67.
61. See, for example, Brundage to Hugh Weir, 21 August 1956, Correspondance
1952–1956, International Olympic Committee Archives, Lausanne; Gafner, The
International Olympic Committee: One Hundred Years. The Idea, the Presidents,
the Achievements, vol. 2, 152.
62. Toohey and Veal, The Olympic Games, 130.
63. ‘A Model Home for Heroes’, Sports Illustrated, 5, no. 21 (19 November 1956).
64. Lenskyj, The Best Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of Sydney 2000, 108.
65. Maraniss, Rome 1960, xii.
66. Bandy, ‘The Politics of Gender through the Olympics: The Changing Nature of
Women’s Involvement in the Olympics’, 51–52.

References
Balbier, U. (2007) Kalter Krieg auf der Aschebahn: Der deutsch-deutsche Sport 1950–1972.
Eine politische Geschichte (Paderborn: Schöningh).
Bandy, S. J. (2010) ‘The Politics of Gender through the Olympics: The Changing Nature
of Women’s Involvement in the Olympics’, in A. Bairner and G. Molnár (eds), The
Politics of the Olympics: A Survey (London: Routledge), 51–52.
Barney, R. K., S. R. Wenn, and S. G. Martyn (2002) Selling the Five Rings: The International
Olympic Committee and the Rise of Olympic Commercialism (Salt Lake City: University of
Utah Press).
Belmonte, L. (2008) Selling the American Way: US Propaganda and the Cold War
(Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press).
Bridges, B. (2007) ‘Reluctant Mediator: Hong Kong, the Two Koreas and the Tokyo
Olympics’, International Journal of the History of Sport, 24.3, 375–91.
Brownell, S. (2008) Beijing’s Games: What the Olympics Mean to China (New York: Rowman
and Littlefield).
Creamer, R. (1956) ‘The Embattled World of Avery Brundage’, Sports Illustrated, 30 January.
Dudziak, M. L. (2000) Cold War Civil Rights: Race and the Image of American Democracy
(Princeton: Princeton University Press), 115–151.
 Barbara Keys 87

Eisenberg, C. (1996) Drawing the Line: The American Decision to Divide Germany,
1944–1949 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press).
Espy, R. (1979) The Politics of the Olympic Games (Berkeley: University of California Press).
Gafner, R. (1994) The International Olympic Committee: One Hundred Years. The Idea, the
Presidents, the Achievements, vol. 2 (Lausanne: International Olympic Committee).
Guttmann, A. (1984) The Games Must Go On: Avery Brundage and the Olympic Movement
(New York: Columbia University Press).
Guttmann, A. (1994) Games and Empires: Modern Sports and Cultural Imperialism
(New York: Columbia University Press).
Keys, B. (2003) ‘Soviet Sport and Transnational Mass Culture in the 1930s’, The Journal of
Contemporary History, 38.3 (July), 413–434.
Keys, B. (2006) Globalizing Sport: National Identity and International Community in the
1930s (Cambridge MA: Harvard University Press).
Keys, B. (2006) ‘The 1956 Melbourne Olympic Games and the Postwar International
Order’, in C. Fink, F. Hadler, and T. Schramm (eds), 1956: European and Global
Perspectives (Leipzig: Leipziger Universitätsverlag), 283–307.
Keys, B. (2007) ‘The Soviet Union, Cultural Exchange, and the 1956 Melbourne Olympic
Games’, in A. Malz, S. Rohdewald and S. Wiederkehr (eds), Sport zwischen Ost und West.
Beiträge zur Sportgeschichte im 19. und 20. Jahrhundert (Osnabrück: Fibre), 131–146.
Keys, B. (2010) ‘International Relations’, in S. Pope and J. Nauright (eds), The Routledge
Companion to Sports History (New York: Routledge), 248–267.
Keys, B. (2011) ‘Rome 1960: Birth of a New World?’, in S. Wagg (ed.), Myths and Milestones
in the History of Sport (London: Palgrave Macmillan).
Keys, B. and R. Burke (forthcoming) ‘Human Rights’, in P. Goedde and R. Immerman
(eds), Oxford Handbook of the Cold War (Oxford: Oxford University Press).
Lenskyj, H. (2002) The Best Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of Sydney 2000 (Albany: State
University of New York Press).
Maraniss, D. (2008) Rome 1960: The Olympics That Changed the World (New York: Simon
and Schuster).
Organizing Committee of the Games of the XVII Olympiad (1960) The Games of the XVII
Olympiad (Rome) (Rome: Organizing Committee of the Games of the XVII Olympiad).
Parks, J. (2007) ‘Verbal Gymnastics: Sports, Bureaucracy, and the Soviet Union’s Entrance
into the Olympic Games’, in S. Wagg and D. L. Andrews (eds), East Plays West: Sport
and the Cold War (London: Routledge, 2007).
Parks, J. (2009) ‘Red Sport, Red Tape: The Olympic Games, the Soviet Sports Bureaucracy,
and the Cold War, 1952–1980’, PhD dissertation, University of North Carolina.
Prozumenshchikov, M. Iu. (2004) Bol’shoi sport, bol’shaia politika (Moscow: Rosspen).
Toohey, K. and A. J. Veal (2000) The Olympic Games: A Social Science Perspective
(Wallingford: CABI Publishing).
Xu, Guoqi (2008) Olympic Dreams: China and Sports, 1895–2008 (Cambridge MA: Harvard
University Press).
6
The Winter Olympics: Geography
Is Destiny?
Helen Jefferson Lenskyj

To the limited extent that the Olympic Games attract critical attention on the
part of the mass media, politicians, public intellectuals and academics, their
commentaries tend to focus more on the summer games than on their smaller
winter counterparts. With about five times the numbers of athletes, many
more sports and events, and more universal television appeal, the summer
games have greater economic, social and political impacts on host cities and
countries than the winter games. For bid and organising committees, spon-
sors, television networks and developers, the summer games represent global
sport’s gold medal, and the winter games a mere silver. And, as Nike advertise-
ments remind us, ‘You don’t win a silver medal, you lose gold’. However, as a
key component of the global Olympic industry, the winter games warrant the
same level of scrutiny as the summer games, although some of the major issues
are different because of the nature of winter sporting events, with geography
operating as a key variable.

Background: the winter sport program, the media,

and the controversies

The first winter Olympics were held in 1924 in Chamonix, France, and, for
the next 60 years with some interruptions during world wars, both summer
and winter games were held during the same year. The first Olympics to be
televised were the 1956 Melbourne summer games, and the next two decades
witnessed ever-increasing media coverage of the games for global audiences. It
soon became apparent that the four-year gap between Olympic extravaganzas
threatened to result in a media void, with the winter games, held in February,
overshadowed by the bigger, more television-friendly summer sport program
held six or seven months later in the same year. Following the financial success of
the 1984 Los Angeles summer games and renewed global interest in hosting the
Olympics, the IOC decided to mount summer and winter games at two-yearly

88
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 89

intervals, with the new cycle beginning in 1994. Thus, Olympic organisers could
rely on the mass media to maintain a year-round, uninterrupted focus on various
aspects of the games, most notably the fierce competitions among bid cities, cor-
porate sponsors, television networks, and last and often the least important, the
athletes. Indeed, thanks to the World Wide Web, it isn’t difficult to find Olympic
stories in the electronic news media every day of the year.
From the perspective of international television audiences, the highest-profile
winter Olympic sports are figure skating, ice hockey and downhill skiing. With
the possible exception of the luge competition in the 2010 Winter Olympics,
when tragically a Georgian luger was killed during training,1 the sliding events
(luge, bobsled and skeleton) and the cross-country events (Nordic skiing and
biathlon) receive less media and public attention. International controversies
often arise in relation to figure skating, where medal winners are determined
by a panel of judges rather than by a time clock.
The Olympic Charter states that, in order to be included on the winter
Olympics program, a sport has to be widely practised on three continents and
in 25 countries, although there are sports and events which barely meet this
minimum requirement. In purely quantitative terms, the sports in the summer
Olympics are somewhat more representative of world sporting practices than
those of the winter games, largely because the summer program includes 33
different sports. In contrast, there are only six winter sports: skiing (downhill
and alpine), skating, curling, sliding sports (luge, bobsled, skeleton), biathlon
and ice hockey. More than 200 nations sent athletes to recent summer games;
in contrast to fewer than 90 national teams that participated in the 2006 and
2010 winter games.
History shows that it is difficult to get sports and events introduced to or
removed from the Olympic program, unless the initiative is supported by
powerful IOC members or international federation presidents, and/or unless
there are compelling marketing or political reasons for doing so. Both the sum-
mer and winter sport programs have remnants of an earlier, more militaristic
time – for example, the biathlon, comprising cross-country skiing and rifle
shooting. From time to time, the IOC re-evaluates longstanding sports and
events that generate little interest among sponsors, the media and the viewing
public, but few are eliminated.
Since the 1960s, pressure from women’s sport associations has brought about
the expansion of some formerly male-only events to include females, as well
as the introduction of the quintessentially feminine, female-only sports of
synchronized swimming and rhythmic gymnastics. One notable exception to
women’s successful lobbying efforts is the ski jump, which the IOC has repeat-
edly refused to include in the winter program. In 2009, with the winter games
to be held in Canada the following year, a group of internationally successful
Canadian ski jumpers lodged a lawsuit claiming sex discrimination. They were
90 The Winter Olympics: Geography Is Destiny?

mistaken in their somewhat naïve assumption that a Canadian court could

wield any power whatsoever over ‘the moral authority for world sport’ and the
‘supreme authority’ over the staging of the Olympic Games (in the words of the
Olympic Charter). However, at the October 2010 meeting of the IOC Olympic
Programme Commission, it was decided to continue studying the ski jumpers’
request, with ‘the key positive factors … [being] whether the changes would
increase universality, gender equity and youth appeal, and in general add value
to the Games (emphasis added).’2
The introduction of beach volleyball to the 1996 summer games provides a
good example of a newly introduced and eminently marketable sport, with the
televised women’s game effectively exploiting female bodies and heterosexual-
ity while promoting the interests of corporate sponsors.3 Similar opportunities
for sexploitation in the winter Olympic program are rare since most winter
sports do not call for women to wear form-fitting, heterosexy attire. A possible
exception is female figure skating, but as yet sponsors are not permitted to
plaster these athletes’ clothes with corporate logos. Representation of female
athletes is slightly higher in the winter games than in the summer games.
However, US media studies reveal that the gender bias that characterises all
Olympic television coverage is in much greater evidence for the winter games,
a possible explanation being the producers’ preference for filming female
athletes in swimsuits and ‘bun-huggers’ rather than in heavy snow gear.4
A more comprehensive critical history of the winter Olympics is beyond
the scope of this chapter.5 Rather, I will address two major sociopolitical
issues that manifest themselves in particularly significant ways in the winter
games: environmental issues, and issues of Black and minority athletes’ under-
representation in winter Olympic sports. Geography is a theme that links these
two areas.

The IOC and the environment

Significantly, it was in relation to the winter games that the Olympic industry
eventually paid some attention to environmental issues. In 1972, after the
IOC had awarded the 1976 winter Olympics to Denver, Colorado, two refer-
enda resulted in that city’s decision to reject the IOC offer, partly because of
the threats to the environment. Around the same time, a proposed bid by the
Colorado town of Aspen had been eliminated because of local opposition on
environmental grounds.6
The last three decades of the 20th century marked the emergence of two
distinct brands of environmentalism. The first and most palatable to western
capitalism is corporate or ‘light green’ environmentalism, a liberal approach
that views the natural environment as an economic resource to be managed.
As Australian researcher Sharon Beder explained, light green environmentalists
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 91

protect the environment only up to the point where ‘degrading it is more

profitable’.7 In contrast, the more radical ‘dark green’ or eco-centric position of
international organisations like Greenpeace and their community-based counter-
parts, including most Olympic watchdog groups, places intrinsic value on the
environment, takes responsibility for its stewardship, and challenges existing
political and economic systems when they pose a threat to it. With the spread
of dark green environmental activism around the globe, Olympic resisters in
Toronto, Rome, Sydney, Salt Lake City, Turin, Vancouver and other bid and
host cities regularly included environmental issues in their rationales for
opposing the Olympics.8
The IOC’s 1991 amendments to the Olympic Charter included a new environ-
mental policy and the creation of a Commission on Sport and the Environment,
with environmentalism subsequently named the third ‘pillar’ of the ‘Olympic
movement’. For bid and host cities, detailed environmental assessments were
required, with a focus on communities, cultural heritage, protected areas and
species, mountains, wetlands and vulnerable regions. Examining the perform-
ance of recent host cities, a 1999 IOC report identified the following key areas:
environmental management systems, environmental protection, enhance-
ment, assessment and monitoring, legacy, environmental technology, resource
management, waste management, transportation, public education and
stakeholder involvement.9 And, as noted above, IOC guidelines also mention
the protection of culture – historical monuments, architecture and the built
environment.
Since the IOC’s policy change of 1991, most Olympic industry organisers
have espoused the light green approach to environmental issues, presenting
small steps (‘in harmony with nature’) as major breakthroughs, while ignor-
ing the glaring examples of environmental damage that routinely accompany
sport mega-events such as the summer and winter Olympics. Critics often term
this kind of public relations spin ‘green-washing’. For example, representatives
of the Nagano and Salt Lake City organising committees who spoke at the
1995 IOC conference on sport and the environment boasted about the number
of existing facilities in their region, and the fact that the proposed locations
of some new venues had been changed in response to environmental impact
assessments.10 Since the IOC uses the number of existing facilities as one of
its criteria for selecting the host city, for Nagano and Salt Lake City to be well
served on that front was not especially remarkable. Nor was it noteworthy that
these cities modified their plans in accordance with the recommendations of
environmental assessment reports (although this is not to suggest that Olympic
organisers always respond to such recommendations). At the same time, these
spokespeople avoided commenting on the more significant long-term prob-
lems associated with hosting the games – impacts that one German protester
aptly likened to a plague of locusts that ravages a different place every four
92 The Winter Olympics: Geography Is Destiny?

years.11 Farmers in this region of Bavaria were strongly opposed to the Munich
bid committee’s plan to use their pastures for temporary buildings, sports ven-
ues or parking lots, on the grounds that the land they use for sheep and cattle
would be permanently damaged by Olympic construction.12

Winter Olympic Games: environmental impacts

Environmental issues are commonly identified as a more serious concern for

winter than for summer games, largely because the expansion and operation
of ski facilities routinely inflict environmental damage on vulnerable alpine
regions.13 Forests are cleared to make way for additional ski runs and tourist
accommodations, while the construction of the athletes’ village, media village,
visitor facilities, housing for workers and security personnel, and parking lots
in small mountain communities results in additional damage to the natural
environment. The ski resort of Whistler, host to most of the snow and ice events
during what were originally called the Vancouver/Whistler Olympics, has a popu-
lation of only about 10,000 permanent residents.14 Garmisch-Partenkirchen, in
Germany, the corresponding alpine town that is part of Munich’s 2018 bid, has
26,000 residents.
The construction and operation of arenas and sliding centres for winter
events poses specific environmental risks. Before 1998, ice tracks were frozen
using harmful chlorofluorocarbons. Nagano Olympic organisers switched to
ammonia, an alternative that is preferable but not without risk of leaking stor-
age tanks, a problem that occurred in Whistler in 2010.15 And winter Olympic
organisers now confront the added problem of global warming, for example,
the warm temperatures, snow droughts and rain that plagued the 2010 winter
games. Critics predict that Garmisch-Partenkirchen would suffer similar snow
shortage problems in 2018.16 Transporting large volumes of snow down the
mountain by truck to a snowless hill, and adding a toxic chemical to the water
used to make artificial snow (in the case of Vancouver/Whistler) are obviously
not part of an environmentally responsible plan.17
As is the case with the summer games, the sheer volume of visitors to
the winter Olympic host towns and cities – national teams, members of the
‘Olympic family’ and entourages, journalists and tourists – has serious impacts
associated with air pollution, waste management, transportation and energy
consumption. The 2002 Salt Lake City games attracted 8,730 media personnel
and 22,000 volunteers, in addition to the 2,399 athletes and tens of thousands
of spectators. And, like most Olympic statistics, these numbers keep increasing;
the Munich/Garmisch-Partenkirchen bid for the 2018 winter games included
plans for a media centre for 10,000 journalists.18
Environmental problems plagued Russia’s preparations for the 2014 winter
games in Sochi, with the World Wildlife Federation, Greenpeace and the
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 93

European Greens among the groups that expressed extreme concern over the
environmental destruction incurred.19

Lillehammer – environmental pioneer?

Sapporo, host of the 1972 winter games, has been credited as the first to
take environmental concerns seriously,20 but over the next two decades little
systematic attention was paid to these issues. When the IOC introduced its new
policy, Lillehammer, host of the 1994 winter games, stood out as a rare example
of a sport mega-event that partly implemented environmental principles.
Promising first steps were taken in the areas of waste management practices,
use of biodegradable products, energy conservation, environmental guidelines
for suppliers of goods and services, and an environmental legacy. Equally
important, activists’ efforts eventually resulted in the organising committee’s
development of a relatively effective model of community consultation, with
important provisions for transparency and accountability.21
In 1994, Australian Greenpeace researcher Andrew Myer wrote a detailed
report on developments in Lillehammer.22 Despite the generally positive
image, he discovered that environmental activists had struggled for two years
before the organising committee had been willing to establish a framework to
ensure that environmental issues would be addressed at all levels. Significantly,
as has been the case in more recent Olympics such as Sydney 2000 and
Vancouver 2010, Lillehammer activists and investigative journalists faced
serious problems in gaining access to information, because the organising com-
mittee, nominally a private company, was exempted from Norway’s freedom of
information legislation.
Negative environmental impacts documented by Canadian researcher David
Chernushenko in 1994 included loss of green space and public recreation
areas, damage to forests and wetlands, threats to animal and bird habitats, and
increased traffic.23 There were, however, some environmental success stories.
The Lillehammer organising committee refused to comply with television net-
works’ demands to cut down trees near the bobsled run so that the races could
be covered by one camera. Private cars were banned and public transport used
throughout the town during the games, energy-saving and recycling measures
were implemented, and provisions were made for post-games use of temporary
structures. Overriding IOC complaints, organisers removed unsightly billboards
promoting the games and its sponsors from the main roads, thereby protecting
traditional alpine villages from commercialisation.24
Despite Lillehammer’s promising start, the more common pattern in
these David-and-Goliath scenarios is that the Olympic industry emerges as
the winner, as events in Vancouver and Whistler demonstrated prior to the
2010 winter games. Protesters’ valiant attempts to prevent the destruction of
94 The Winter Olympics: Geography Is Destiny?

Eagleridge Bluffs, an endangered ecosystem north of the city, to make way

for upgrades to the Sea to Sky highway linking Vancouver and the ski resort
of Whistler were ultimately unsuccessful. The death of one of the Indigenous
activists, Harriet Nahanee, was indirectly related to overzealous policing and
the subsequent prison terms imposed on these non-violent, lawful protesters.25
However, their tent city blockade delayed the destruction for more than five
weeks before arrests were made.
The town of Whistler was the site of a small but egregious example of the
Olympic industry juggernaut demolishing everything in its path, when a forest
of 800 old-growth trees in the heart of the village was bulldozed to make way
for a ‘celebration plaza’. Local government officials portrayed this $14 million
plaza as a significant Olympic ‘legacy’. And, consistent with patterns in other
recent winter games locales, 80,000 trees were cut down in the Callaghan
Valley for the expansion of ski runs and construction of a sewage treatment
plant, itself the subject of criticism on the grounds that more environmentally
sustainable methods of sewage disposal should have been investigated.26

Urban impacts of the winter Olympics

Given the geography of ski resorts, the winter games generally involve neigh-
bouring urban areas as well as mountain regions in order to accommodate the
full winter sport program as well as the tens of thousands of visitors. As a result,
many of the summer games’ environmental problems occur, although on a
smaller scale, in the cities near the mountain venues. With ice events (skat-
ing, curling and ice hockey) and opening and closing ceremonies usually held
in nearby towns and cities, new ice arenas, speed-skating tracks and stadiums
need to be built. Other necessary new construction may include the athletes’
village and media village, as well as the expansion of airports, highways and
public transportation systems between the city and the mountains, all incur-
ring significant environmental cost.
In addition to environmental concerns, the urban components of the winter
games produce similar negative social and political impacts to those that have
been thoroughly documented in summer host cities since the 1980s, with
the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics conforming to the well-established
pattern.27 Impacts include the following:

• evictions of tenants and lodgers when low-income neighbourhoods are

gentrified
• decreases in boarding house stock
• artificially inflated real estate prices
• weakened tenant protection legislation, resulting in rent increases and
evictions without cause
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 95

• the criminalising of poverty and homelessness through increased police

powers over homeless and under-housed people in public spaces
• temporary or permanent privatisation of public spaces
• temporary or permanent suspension of basic civil rights, including freedom
of speech and freedom of assembly.28

Restrictions on freedom of speech and public protest were, unsurprisingly,

in widespread evidence in Russia in the lead-up to the 2014 Winter Games in
Sochi. However, the focus of a major protest group, No Sochi 2014, was a series
of historical events that were largely unknown to the rest of the world, namely,
the Circassian genocide of 1864. Circassia’s capital, Sochi, had been the point
of exile for over 1 million Circassians, indigenous peoples of the region, fol-
lowing the slaughter of 1.5 million by Tsarist Russian troops. In July 2007, as
Sochi was preparing its Olympic bid for games that would be held on the 150th
anniversary of this massacre, near the same area, Red Valley, that marked the
victims’ mass graves, Diasporan Circassians wrote to the IOC asking them to
deny Russia’s bid. Predictably, the IOC’s non-committal response alluded to
the Olympics as ‘a force for good’, promoting ‘positive developments’ in host
countries. It concluded by claiming that ‘a patient and quiet approach … in
partnership with … Organizing Committees … brings results’.29 Events of the
following year, before and during the 2008 Beijing Olympics, would strongly
suggest that this patient and quiet approach was largely ineffective.
I will now turn to the second focus of this chapter, the under-representation
of Black and minority athletes in the winter Olympics sport program. As is the
case with environmental concerns, geography is a factor in debates over race
and sport.

It’s not racism, it’s geography

In 1978, I heard a white American colleague express the view that no great
thinker had ever emerged from a hot country. Decades of antiracist and anti-
colonialist scholarship and activism since that time have amply documented
and challenged the hegemony of western/white thought, and hence the
profound racism (and fallacy) of my colleague’s statement. However, in the
context of the Olympics, the racist view that ‘geography is destiny’ continues
to be put forward as a legitimate reason for the significant under-representation
of Black people and people of colour participating in the winter games.
Such a response characterises white people’s ‘race to innocence’ that antiracist
scholars have identified as a common rationale for racist beliefs and practices.30
According to this line of thinking, we (white people) are innocent, and, on the
question of representation in winter games, it’s not the case that we deliberately
exclude Black and minority athletes. It’s simply the fact that white athletes live
96 The Winter Olympics: Geography Is Destiny?

in cold countries, so they have a geographic advantage over non-white athletes

living in hot countries, when it comes to winter sports. Applied to a large country
like the United States, this argument holds that residents of the colder northern
regions have a geographic advantage over the warmer states in the south, states
that are said to have higher proportions of Black and Hispanic residents.
It is illuminating to look at these arguments from another perspective. Given
the fact that the majority of sports in the summer Olympics are played out-
doors, it could be argued that athletes from warm regions would have a geo-
graphic advantage since they have year-round access to sports fields, running
tracks and pools. Scandinavian or other northern European athletes would
not be expected to win many medals in the summer games, while African
athletes would have considerable success in summer sports. The flaws in this
argument, and the historical evidence against it, are obvious. Athletes from
western countries, including cold countries, have had high medal counts in
both summer and winter games throughout most of the 20th century.31 In fact,
one of the few analyses of economic and political determinants of participation
and medal-winning success at summer and winter games reported that athletes
from colder countries outperformed warmer countries even in the summer
games events.32 Unsurprisingly, these researchers identified socioeconomic
variables as the key to medal success. Overall, larger, higher-income nations
won more medals; income was a more significant factor in the winter games
medal count, and population was more important for summer games medals.
On the political front, although single-party and Communist regimes did not
send proportionately more athletes, those who participated had greater suc-
cess, largely because of these countries’ early identification of young athletes
and their well-established residential training programs. (This is not to suggest
that the exploitation of child athletes is humane or ethical.)
On the question of African involvement in the Olympics prior to World War I,
Olympic founder Baron de Coubertin’s stated intentions, largely successful,
were to impose the sporting traditions of (mainly Anglo-Saxon) imperial
powers as a ‘civilising’ force on these ‘semi-savage’ peoples, thereby undermin-
ing Africans’ indigenous sporting practices.33 By the second half of the 20th
century, the IOC had developed more sophisticated ways of implementing
cultural imperialism. One goal of the Olympic Solidarity program in develop-
ing countries, for example, was to show ‘new nations the (single) best way
to organize themselves to produce elite athletes’ through scientific (western)
sporting practices.34
The geography rationale was a favourite response to African-American TV
sports journalist Bryant Gumbel when, on 15 February 2002, he famously (and
aptly) characterised Salt Lake City Winter Olympics as looking like ‘a GOP
[Republican Party] convention’ because of their overwhelming whiteness.35
Reaction was immediate and outraged. ‘It’s not racism, it’s just a matter of
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 97

geography’ was the explanation routinely offered in the mass media and on the
blogs. The Olympics were the most ‘inclusionary’ event in the world, according
to one reporter, while another said he’d never heard the words Olympic and
racist in the same sentence. In a strange reversal, some journalists accused
Gumbel himself of racism, even comparing him to Hitler.36
The 2006 Olympics in Turin prompted further debate in the mainstream
American media concerning the overall predominance of white athletes and
the lack of diversity on the US national team. A typical response was to attribute
the fuss to ‘political correctness’, and one white journalist claimed that ignor-
ing the racial ‘bean counters’ would be a ‘a true sign of racial progress’.37
Beyond the mainstream media, opinion was more overtly racist, as Richard
King’s disturbing analysis of white supremacist web sites amply demon-
strates. Anonymous posts on sites like White Survival Forum, Stormfront and
Castefootball labelled mainstream journalists as ‘jealous Whitey haters’, boasted
that ‘the Winter Olympics are OUR games’, and declared that the ‘White
Olympics’ were ‘so much nicer to watch’. White dominance at these games, for
one American, represented ‘an element of my race’s superiority’. Concerned at
the success of Black skater Shani Davis, another posed the question, ‘How can
we keep blacks out of winter sports?’ There followed what King aptly calls
‘a series of dehumanizing replies’ aimed at securing and policing racial borders.38
On the question of representation on the American national team, more
insightful media commentaries pointed to the fact that participation in ice and
snow sports requires greater financial investment for equipment, travel, ice
time, lift tickets and training than popular urban sports like basketball, baseball
and soccer. These factors pose a barrier to low-income, urban families, includ-
ing the significant numbers of African-Americans and Hispanic people who
suffer from the combined effects of classism and racism.
The concept of cultural capital is also useful when investigating longstanding
social class and ethnic differences in patterns of sport participation. In a white,
middle-class, urban Canadian or American context, excellence in tennis and
golf confers more status than a similar level of expertise in softball or soccer.
Two of the first African-American athletes to win winter gold medals, Vonetta
Flowers and Bill Schuffenjauer, both began their athletic careers in track and
field, then switched to bobsled after they failed to qualify for the 2000 US
Olympic team. Speed skater Shani Davis, the first African-American to win
an individual gold medal, grew up in Chicago and began his skating career
on inline skates, then switched to speed skating on ice. In these examples, it
could be argued that both track and field and inline skating represented a bet-
ter match with the cultural values of these athletes’ urban Black communities
than bobsled or speed skating.
A 2006 New York Times article titled ‘Black Athletes Missing from the Pilot’s
Seat’ drew attention to division of labour in the bobsled team: the pusher sets
98 The Winter Olympics: Geography Is Destiny?

the bobsled in motion and then jumps on, and the driver sits at the front and
steers. (There are two-person and four-person teams; all require a pusher and
a driver.) Based on the composition of recent teams, it appears that a combi-
nation of racism and financial barriers caused the existing pattern of Black
pushers and white pilots. Even in a wealthy sporting nation like the United
States, there are only two bobsled facilities, Lake Placid, New York State, and
Park City, Utah, so aspiring bobsledders would need to relocate. However, as
the article points out, living in the warmer southern states poses less of a barrier
for white athletes to succeed in winter sports. For example, bobsled driver Todd
Hays and speed skater Chad Hedrick (who was an inline skater before chang-
ing to ice) were both from Texas, while another white bobsled medallist, Brian
Shimer, came from Florida.39 In short, the ice is not level in this arena.

(Invisible) Indigenous peoples

Another of the many flaws in the geography argument, when applied to win-
ter sports, is the assumption that people living in or near alpine regions are
all white. In other words, it is falsely assumed that no visible minorities or
Indigenous peoples live close enough to these regions to have the geographic
advantage of growing up near ice and snow and practising winter sports from
a young age. Yet the recent winter Olympics hosted in the United States and
Canada, most notably Calgary (1988), Salt Lake City (2002) and Vancouver/
Whistler (2010), all took place on the traditional lands of First Nations peoples.
In fact, the entire province of British Columbia has not been the subject of a
valid treaty – in other words, it is stolen Native land.40 Tellingly, when First
Nations people organised protests against the Vancouver/Whistler bid, a head-
line in a Vancouver newspaper announced ‘Natives try to block our Olympic
bid’ (emphasis added).41
If geographic proximity were the key explanation for excellence in winter
sports, Indigenous athletes would have been well represented at recent winter
games, but this was not the case. The media tendency to focus on the successes
of a few individual First Nations athletes, together with organisers’ cynical
exploitation of Indigenous culture in the opening and closing ceremonies,
ignores the barriers of poverty, discrimination and cultural imperialism that
Indigenous peoples have experienced for centuries.42 Like African sport in
Coubertin’s day, most traditional Indigenous sports and games in the United
States and Canada have now been supplanted by the Olympic model.43
Furthermore, ice sports, as opposed to snow sports, are not the exclusive
domain of those who live in alpine regions. On the contrary, urban residents in
Canada, the northern parts of the United States, and northern Europe all have
relatively easy access to ice arenas, as long as they have the financial resources
needed to purchase skates, ice hockey equipment, coaching and ice time.
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 99

In theory, then, Black and minority children and youth from urban, middle-class
families could practise speed skating, figure skating, curling or ice hockey,
so geography alone does not explain their under-representation. Obviously
financial barriers stand in the way of their access to the more expensive winter
sports – in other words, racism and classism working together are responsible
for existing patterns of participation in the winter Olympics.

Conclusion

Like their summer counterparts, the winter games provide multiple opportuni-
ties for the Olympic industry to inflict damage on communities and countries,
natural and built environments, athletes’ rights and human rights. As the
preceding discussion has demonstrated, the role of geography is of central
significance. Firstly, the environmental vulnerability of regions where the
winter Olympics are held is largely a function of geographic location. And
secondly, geography is frequently used to justify the under-representation of
racial minority athletes in Olympic winter sports. In the words of the IOC, the
primary consideration is ‘to add value to the Games’ … by whatever means the
Olympic industry deems necessary.

Notes
1. A full discussion of events surrounding the death of Georgian luger Nodar
Kumaritashvili is beyond the scope of this chapter, but the issue certainly warrants
further scholarly examination. Formal investigations concluded that the death was
accidental, but documents obtained by the Canadian Broadcasting Commission in
2011 under the Freedom of Information Act showed that the International Luge
Federation had expressed concerns about the speeds on the luge track to its designer
in March 2009, almost a year before the 2010 Games, and that Vancouver Organizing
Committee (VANOC) officials had discussed these concerns in a series of emails.
VANOC CEO John Furlong wrote: ‘[E]mbedded in this note (cryptic as it may be) is
a warning that the track is in their view too fast and someone could get badly hurt.
An athlete gets badly injured or worse and I think the case could be made we were
warned and did nothing.’ See www.cbc.ca/fifth/2010-2011/deathattheolympics/
documents.html.
2. IOC Executive Board meeting in Acapulco – Key decisions (26 October 2010), at:
www.olympic.org/en/content/The-IOC/?articleNewsGroup=-1&articleId=105057.
3. Lenskyj, Olympic Industry Resistance, Chapter 7.
4. See Billings et al., ‘The Games through the NBC Lens . . .’.
5. Many of the key texts in the field of critical Olympic history include overviews of
the winter Olympics. See, for example, Senn, Power, Politics, and the Olympic Games;
Espy, The Politics of the Olympic Games.
6. Chappelet, ‘Olympic Environmental Concerns as a Legacy of the Winter Games’.
7. Beder, ‘Sydney’s Toxic Green Olympics’.
8. Lenskyj, Inside the Olympic Industry: Power, Politics and Activism; Lenskyj, The Best
Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of Sydney 2000.
100 The Winter Olympics: Geography Is Destiny?

9. IOC Commission on Sport and the Environment, Building a Positive Environmental

Legacy through the Olympic Games.
10. Lizawa, ‘The XVIII Olympic Winter Games in Nagano, Japan, 1998’; Tanner, ‘The
XIX Olympic Winter Games in Salt Lake City United States of America, 2002’.
11. Bavarian protester quoted in Sturdee, ‘Bavarian Farmers Kick Up Olympic Stink’.
12. Baetz, ‘Land Dispute Troubles Munich 2018 Olympic Bid’.
13. Weiss et al., ‘Ski Tourism and Environmental Problems’.
14. Despite Whistler’s central role as host to most of the snow sports, its name was
dropped from the official materials soon after the bid was successful, with these
Olympics going down in history as the Vancouver 2010 Winter Games.
15. Posting on 2010greenolympics.blogspot.com (5 February 2010).
16. Sturdee, ‘Bavarian Farmers . . .’.
17. Belperio, ‘99 Reasons to Count Down the 2010 Olympics’.
18. Sturdee, ‘Bavarian Farmers . . .’.
19. No Sochi 2014, 17–20.
20. Chappelet, ‘Olympic Environmental Concerns . . . ’.
21. Lesjo, ‘Lillehammer 1994: Planning, Figurations and the “Green” Winter Games’;
Otteson, ‘The Olympic Vision’.
22. Myer, ‘Lillehammer Winter Olympics: Report of a Study Visit for Greenpeace
Australia’.
23. Chernushenko, Greening Our Games: Running Sports Events and Facilities that Won’t
Cost the Earth.
24. Myer, ‘Lillehammer Winter Olympics …’.
25. Lenskyj, Olympic Industry Resistance, 58–73.
26. 2010greenolympics.blogspot.com
27. See Chapter 15 by Chris Shaw in this collection.
28. Centre on Housing Rights and Evictions, Fair Play for Housing Rights . . .; Lenskyj,
Olympic Industry Resistance.
29. No Sochi 2014, 8–13; see also www.NoSochi2014.com. Furthermore, No Sochi 2014
asserted that both the IOC and the Russian government were complicit in keeping
hidden the historical truth concerning the Circassians.
30. See, for example, Razack and Fellows, ‘The Race to Innocence’.
31. Wallechinsky and Loucky, The Complete Book of the Winter Olympics.
32. Johnson and Ali, ‘A Tale of Two Seasons’.
33. Chatziefstathiou et al., ‘Cultural Imperialism and the Diffusion of Olympic Sport in
Africa’; Giulianotti, ‘Human Rights, Globalization and Sentimental Education: The
Case of Sport’.
34. Chatziefstathiou et al., ‘Cultural Imperialism and the Diffusion of Olympic Sport in
Africa’.
35. The term GOP (‘Grand Old Party’) refers to the ultraconservative Republican political
party in the United States, at that time under the leadership of President George
W. Bush.
36. McCullough, ‘Bryant Gumbel Goes Racist’; Jim Miller on Politics.
37. Carberry, ‘White Athletes Dominate Winter Olympics, So What?’
38. King, ‘Staging the Winter White Olympics’.
39. Crumpacker, ‘US Team Lacks Racial Mix’; Eligon, ‘Black Athletes Missing from the
Pilot’s Seat’.
40. O’Bonsawin, ‘The Conundrum of Ilanaaq – First Nations Representation and the
2010 Vancouver Winter Olympics’.
41. Inwood, ‘Natives Try to Block Our Olympic Bid’.
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 101

42. Forsyth and Wamsley, ‘Symbols without Substance: Aboriginal Peoples and the
Illusions of Olympic Ceremonies’.
43. Parashak, ‘Doing Race, Doing Gender: First Nations, “Sport”, and Gender
Relations’.

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Beder, S. (1994) ‘Sydney’s Toxic Green Olympics’, Current Affairs Bulletin, 70.6, 37.
Belperio, P. (2009) ‘99 Reasons to Count Down the 2010 Olympics’, 6 November, at: www.
rabble.ca/blogs/bloggers/word-rings/2009/11/99-reasons-count-down-2010-winter-
olympics.
Billings, A., C. Brown, J. Crout, K. McKenna, B. Rice, M. Timanus and J. Zeigler (2008)
‘The Games through the NBC Lens: Gender, Ethnic and National Equity in the 2006
Torino Winter Games’, Journal of Broadcasting & Electronic Media, June, at: www.high
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Carberry, R. (2006) ‘White Athletes Dominate Winter Olympics, So What?’, Ezine articles,
2 March 2006, at: www.ezinearticles.com.
Centre on Housing Rights and Evictions (2007) Fair Play for Housing Rights: Mega-Events,
Olympic Games and Housing Rights (Geneva: COHRE), at: www.cohre.org.
Chappelet, J.-L. (2008) ‘Olympic Environmental Concerns as a Legacy of the Winter
Games’, International Journal of the History of Sport, 25.14, 1884–1902.
Chatziefstathiou, D., I. Henry, E., Theodoraki and M. Al-Tauqi (2006) ‘Cultural
Imperialism and the Diffusion of Olympic Sport in Africa’, in N. Crowther, R. Barney
and M. Heine (eds), Cultural Imperialism in Action: Critiques in the Global Olympic Trust,
Eighth International Symposium for Olympic Research (London, ON: University of
Western Ontario), 278–292.
Chernushenko, D. (1994) Greening Our Games: Running Sports Events and Facilities that
Won’t Cost the Earth (Ottawa: Centurion).
Crumpacker, J. (2002) ‘US Team Lacks Racial Mix’, San Francisco Chronicle, 8 February.
Eligon J. (2006) ‘Black Athletes Missing from the Pilot’s Seat’, New York Times,
20 February.
Espy, R. (1979) The Politics of the Olympic Games (Berkeley: University of California
Press).
Forsyth, J. and K. Wamsley (2005) ‘Symbols without Substance: Aboriginal Peoples
and the Illusions of Olympic Ceremonies’, in K. Young and K. Wamsley (eds), Global
Olympics: Historical and Sociological Studies of the Modern Games (Amsterdam: Elsevier),
227–248.
Giulianotti, R. (2004) ‘Human Rights, Globalization and Sentimental Education: The
Case of Sport’, Sport in Society, 7.3, 355–369.
Inwood, D. (2002) ‘Natives Try to Block Our Olympic Bid’, The Province, 27 June, at: www.
png.canwest.com/province.html.
IOC Commission on Sport and the Environment (1999) Building a Positive Environmental
Legacy through the Olympic Games (Lausanne: IOC).
IOC (2010) IOC Executive Board Meeting in Acapulco – Key Decisions, 26 October.
Johnson, D. and A. Ali (2004) ‘A Tale of Two Seasons: Participation and Medal Counts at
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Jim Miller on Politics (16 February 2006), at: www.seanet.com/~jimxc/politics/

King, C. R. (2007) ‘Staging the Winter White Olympics’, Journal of Sport and Social Issues,
31.1, 89–94.
Lenskyj, H. (2000) Inside the Olympic Industry: Power, Politics and Activism (Albany: SUNY
Press).
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Press).
Lenskyj, H. (2008) Olympic Industry Resistance: Challenging Olympic Power and Propaganda
(Albany: SUNY Press).
Lesjo, J. (2000) ‘Lillehammer 1994: Planning, Figurations and the “Green” Winter
Games’, International Review for the Sociology of Sport, 35.3, 281–293.
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Conference on Sport and the Environment (Lausanne: IOC), 80–86.
McCullough, K. (2006) ‘Bryant Gumbel Goes Racist’, World/Net Daily, 24 February, at: www.
wnd.com/index.php/index.php?pageId=34869
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Australia’, 17–22 February.
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O’Bonsawin, C. (2006) ‘The Conundrum of Ilanaaq – First Nations Representation and
the 2010 Vancouver Winter Olympics’, in N. Crowther, R. Barney and M. Heine (eds),
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Games: A Golden Opportunity (Sydney: Centre for Olympic Studies, University of
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Razack, S. and M. L. Fellows (1998) ‘The Race to Innocence’, Journal of Gender, Race and
Justice, 1.2, 225–252.
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Sturdee, S. (2010) ‘Bavarian Farmers Kick Up Olympic Stink’, Vancouver Sun, 6 August,
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story.html.
Tanner, R. (1995) ‘The XIX Olympic Winter Games in Salt Lake City, United States of
America, 2002’, World Conference on Sport and the Environment (Lausanne: IOC).
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Wallechinsky, D. and J. Loucky (2001) The Complete Book of the Winter Olympics
(Woodstock: Overlook Press).
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7
Olympic Tales from the East: Tokyo
1964, Seoul 1988 and Beijing 2008
John Horne and Wolfram Manzenreiter

Introduction

This chapter outlines selected socio-cultural features of the Olympic Games

in East Asia and their global impact. The chapter is structured in five sections,
which detail significant aspects of the relationship between East Asian societies
and the Olympic Games. Firstly we describe the background to recent East Asian
attempts to host the Olympics. Secondly we consider the relationship between
East Asian societies and the Olympic Movement. Thirdly we briefly discuss the
material legacy of hosting the Olympics in East Asia. Fourthly we reflect on the
role of the Olympics in the production of distinctive temporalities and locali-
ties in East Asia. Fifthly we analyse the representation of East Asian societies at
sports mega-events such as the Olympics. In between the Olympiads of Tokyo
1964, Seoul 1988 and Beijing 2008, the Olympics have come to serve multiple
interests, while Eurocentric notions of Self and Other continue to curtail the
representational power of the ‘Oriental’ nations on display. We argue that
the Olympic utopian promise of ‘One World’ actually is a major point of
contention – creating and sustaining essentialised perceptions of the East.

Politics, protest and promotion: sports mega-events in East Asia

The uncritical celebration of sports as universal cultural property disguises the

political economy of sports in contemporary society and the more down-to-
earth partisan interests behind their global spread. Staging a mega-event can
thus be seen as an opportunity to catch up or modernise (politics); an opportu-
nity to challenge (Western) modernity (protest), and an opportunity to project
distinctive forms of hybrid modernity (promotion). Each mega-event staged in
East Asia involved elements of each of these.
As well as different genres of mega-event there are different orders of sports
‘megas’ – ranked according to size, scope, appeal. At the head of the list are

103
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
104 Olympic Tales from the East: Tokyo 1964, Seoul 1988 and Beijing 2008

the Summer Olympic Games (held in East Asia in Tokyo 1964, Seoul 1988 and
Beijing 2008) and the FIFA Football World Cup (co-hosted by South Korea-Japan
in 2002). Next in terms of rank are the Winter Olympic Games (held in Sapporo
1972 and Nagano 1998), the IAAF World Athletics Championship (Osaka 2007)
and the Commonwealth Games (Kuala Lumpur 1998, Delhi 2010). At regional
level and in third rank order in terms of audience reach and appeal are such
events as the Asian Games (Tokyo 1958, Seoul 1986, Beijing 1990, Hiroshima
1994, Busan 2002, Doha 2006, Guangzhou 2010, Incheon 2014), and the Asian
Football Association Cup (China 2004, Indonesia/Malaysia/Thailand/Vietnam
2007). Despite the arguments of boosters for staging them being expressed in
terms of economic returns, the economic outcomes of sports mega-events are
normally considerably less than expected. Cities with pre-existing soft assets
attach much less value to one-off megas than cities hoping to develop them.1
Since the Olympic Games shares many of the elements of (Western)
modernity – industrialisation, capitalism, urbanisation, the consolidation of
the nation-state, secularisation, colonisation, rationalisation, individualisation
and globalisation – each of the East Asian Summer Olympics can be seen as
offering an opportunity for power play in this context. Japan has been awarded
the hosting of the Summer and Winter Olympic Games more than any other
non-Western nation (1940, Summer and Winter; 1964; 1972, 1998). Tokyo 1964
saw ‘Modern “Exotic” Japan Normalized’.2 The Winter Olympics in Nagano in
1998, meanwhile, was a blend of ‘Eclectic Exoticism’3 evoking difference and
sameness in equal measure. Seoul 1988 was conceived of as a reconciliation
games. Beijing 2008 was viewed as part of China’s grand ‘coming out party’ as
a global economic and political power. In addition to the successful bids for the
Summer and Winter Olympics (outlined in Tables 7.1 and 7.2) Tokyo applied to
host the Summer Olympic Games in 1960 and 2016, Nagoya in 1988, Osaka in
2008 and Beijing in 2000. Sapporo was a candidate city for the 1968 and 1984
Winter Olympics whilst Pyeongchang made two unsuccessful bids for 2010 and
2014, before being announced as host for the 2018 edition.

Table 7.1 East Asian candidate and host cities for

Summer Olympic Games 1960–2016

Year Candidate city Host city

1960 Tokyo
1964 Tokyo
1988 Nagoya Seoul
2000 Beijing
2008 Osaka Beijing
2016 Tokyo
 John Horne and Wolfram Manzenreiter 105

Table 7.2 East Asian candidate and host cities for

Winter Olympic Games 1968–2018

Year Candidate city Host city

1968 Sapporo
1972 Sapporo
1984 Sapporo
1998 Nagano
2010 Pyeongchang
2014 Pyeongchang
2018 Pyeongchang*

*Pyeongchang’s role as host for 2018 was announced on 6

July 2011 at the 123rd IOC Session in Durban, South Africa.

East Asia in the Olympic world

Modern sports entered Asia as a disciplinary regime, colonising minds and

bodies, consciously as well as subconsciously. As colonial empires and missionary
regimes were at the background of the early stage of the global spread of sports,
later generations of writers have critically assessed modern conceptions of sport
games and physical education as elaborated ideologies and techniques of subju-
gating and assimilating the colonial subject. Sports in the colonial mind worked
upon indigenous bodies, dissected its parts and functions and reassembled them
after having replaced autochthonous parts with Western ideas of the rational-
ity of physical exercise, the rule-bound ethics of contest and competition, and
modernist inscriptions of the state on the colonial subject’s skin and muscles.
In Japan, the modern nation-state actively promoted sports within the confines
of public education, the conscription system and mass youth organisations. In
Korea and China, missionary movements like the YMCA or the YWCA played
a crucial role in subverting established body ideologies privileging mind over
physique prior to the phases of republican or colonial rule. Like its Western role
model, the Japanese colonial state used modern sports, gymnastics, games and
athletics for the education of its subjects abroad.4
The ‘Ys’ have not been the only global movements actively involved in form-
ing the athletic body in the East. More of importance for the great somatic
transformation has been the Olympic movement. With its particular form of
dialectical play between national and transnational allegiances, it has been
aptly described by Appadurai as ‘the largest modern example of a movement
born in the context of European concerns with world peace … [and] the most
spectacular among a series of sites and formations on which the future of
the nation-state will turn in the post-colonial world’.5 These developments
were motivated by the expansionary mission of the International Olympic
Committee (IOC) seeking to promote Olympism as ‘a way of life based on the
106 Olympic Tales from the East: Tokyo 1964, Seoul 1988 and Beijing 2008

joy of effort, the educational value of good example and respect for universal
fundamental ethical principles’.6 It is debatable to what degree the fundamen-
tal principles of Olympism, encompassing international goodwill, peace and
equality, resonated with the worldview of ruling elites abroad. Yet sport in
general as a new and modern kind of body culture was decidedly marked as
positive and beneficiary for the transmogrifying process from feudal to modern
civil society. Rather than placing ‘sport at the service of the harmonious develop-
ment of man, with a view to promoting a peaceful society concerned with
the preservation of human dignity’,7 East Asia’s advocates of modernisation
championed a conception of sports and physical education according to Social
Darwinist ideas, which were highly in vogue in the age of Imperialism. Herbert
Spencer’s idea of the ‘survival of the fittest’ provided the intellectual framework
for a somatic view of society, in which the valorisation of physical strength and
competitiveness was directly linked with state power and imperial rule.
East Asia’s embrace by the Olympic movement began with the formal invi-
tation to Imperial Japan, which spearheaded the path to modernity among
the nations of the region, to solicit a suitable representative of Japan at the
IOC in January 1909. This was certainly not an early attempt by the Olympic
Movement to validate its pretensions as patron of universal humanist principles.
Rather it was a ‘noble gesture’ bestowed upon the new emerging Far Eastern
power that had recently defeated China and Russia in war and had muscled its
way among the exclusive club of colonial powers, having also annexed Taiwan
and Korea. China, a later target of Japan’s expansionist desires, joined the
Olympic Movement considerably later in 1922, and a first delegation, con-
sisting of a single short-track runner, participated at the 1932 Olympics in
Los Angeles. Koreans had to wait for national acclamation by the IOC until
independence from Japanese colonial rule was restored after 1945. Soon after
the Korean Olympic Committee became a member of the IOC and was invited
to send delegations to the London Summer Olympic Games and the Winter
Olympic Games in St Moritz in 1948. Even after the Korean War, athletes from
the South and the North continued to participate as representatives of a single
Korea until Cold War hostilities and the postcolonial struggle for autonomy and
identity reached its early heights in the years running up to the 1964 Tokyo
Olympics. Seoul hosted the second Asian Olympic Games in 1988 prior to the
sudden end of the Cold War system.8 China’s first aspirations date back to the
bid for the Olympics 1952, but these dreams had to be postponed for more than
half a century.9
Hosting the games is the highest, but not the ultimate, aspiration of states and
nations struggling for recognition by the IOC member states. Adding one’s own
body culture to the Olympic canon ranks probably highest in a gradual process
that sees nations and states becoming integrated into the world sports system.
At the first and lowest level, nations desire the right to participate; second
 John Horne and Wolfram Manzenreiter 107

they hope to win any medals; third to rank high in the medal list; fourth they
bid for hosting the games; and finally, if they have a distinctive competitive
body culture, they aspire to gain acknowledgment of their own tradition.10
It is easy to show how these steps have repeatedly occurred in line with the
modernisation process of East Asian states and their positioning within the
world system. The most exclusive prizes, and therefore the achievements most
desired for, are based on premises of adapting to Western models of hosting
and to Western notions of sports.
Modern ideas of body, subject and nation impacted upon the ‘invention of
judo’ in the late 19th century. Kano Jigoro, founder of modern judo and Japan’s
first representative at the IOC, reassessed traditional fighting techniques to
refine and reassemble these movements for his new martial art. His pedagogic
key concepts of ‘maximal efficiency’ and ‘mutual welfare and benefit’ closely
resonated with rationalism and modernist societal visions that saw the indi-
vidual integrated into a larger group of like-minded subjects, performing for
the good of the nation. Kano’s tireless campaigning for the promotion of judo
abroad was finally crowned when the IOC accepted judo as a new Olympic
sport in 1964. Adding taekwondo to the Olympics did not take that long but
afforded more straightforward initiative-taking. After a decade of intensive
lobbying all over the world, the Korean martial art was admitted as a demon-
stration sport at the Seoul Olympics in 1988; it took some more Olympiads
and further lobbying by the Korean-run World Federation of Taekwondo to
convince IOC officials to list taekwondo as a competitor sport in Sydney in
2000. China’s similar ambitions of seeing its national Wushu on display at the
2008 Beijing Games did not materialise: having scrutinised the international
spread and appeal of China’s martial art, the IOC declined China’s request and
even prohibited Wushu athletes from showing their skills at any official event
related to the Olympic Games. This decision left many Chinese disappointed
since they had taken it for granted that their country, similarly to Japan and
Korea, would get the honour of being represented by a native sport at the
Olympic Games.
The border-crossing diffusion of indigenous body practices was initiated by
orientalist curiosity and accelerated by the increasing mobility of people, texts
and images. In the course of their ultimately global career, Asian martial arts
have undergone a process of rationalisation and reorganisation according to
major didactic and ideological principles taken from the competitive body cul-
tures of the dominant West. Judo and taekwondo, as well as karate and Wushu,
were separated from their cultural origins. Their purpose was streamlined to
match with the logic of competitive sport, and organisational structures were
transformed to reproduce the hierarchical structures of local organisations,
national associations and international federations. However, the structures
and functions of bureaucratic rationality are often in contrast to and conflict
108 Olympic Tales from the East: Tokyo 1964, Seoul 1988 and Beijing 2008

with authority derived from blood relationships with charismatic founding

figures, hierarchical and interpersonal relationships, and dyadic genealogies
that are commonly observed among and within many martial arts schools in
East Asia. In order to achieve worldwide recognition as modern sports, tradi-
tional reign had to be replaced by bureaucratic rule, to adapt Max Weber’s
phrase. The formerly national sports received a huge promotional thrust of
internationalisation when the bodies in charge of regulating the martial arts
formally (partially) renounced their control rights in favour of ever more
centralised international sport federations.

The material legacy of Olympic modernity

At the Tokyo Summer Olympic Games in 1964 Tange Kenzo’s gymnasium

buildings, built on what had been known in the immediate postwar period as
‘Washington Heights Occupation Forces housing estate’, as it housed US army
personnel, announced to the world that Japan had risen from the aftermath
of the Pacific War and occupation by the Allied Forces.11 The president of the
Tokyo OCOG, Yasukawa Daigoro, declared that the Tokyo Olympics ‘will not
only be a display of sportsmanship by the world’s athletes, but will also high-
light the continuing efforts of the Japanese people as a worthy member of the
world family of nations’.12 Tange’s Gymnasium buildings, alongside the new
technology of the shinkansen or ‘bullet train’, allowed Japan to project national
self-confidence to the rest of the world. Great importance was placed on the
symbolic meaning of the buildings. Tange wanted the space to have an exhila-
rating influence on the people participating in sports events within it, while
promoting a sense of excitement and union with the spectators.13 The Olympic
buildings were erected in Yoyogi Park, itself an iconic place since it spread
over the former site of a housing complex for occupying US troops. The roof
design adapted the principle used in the construction of suspension bridges to
fit a suspension membrane roof. When Tange, in collaboration with engineer
Tsuboi Yoshikatsu, put the technology into practice in 1964, it became the
largest tensile structure in the world. As ‘the roof-ridge of the Olympic building
drew inspiration from the tile-capped ridges of Buddhist temples’, the build-
ing linked new technology with older traditions.14 International symbols were
developed out of culturally specific materials in both Tokyo in 1964 and Seoul
in 1988. Yoyogi Sports Centre was considered ‘modern with Japanese culture’.15
The lines of the Chamsil stadium designed by Korean architect Soo Geun Kim
and built for the 1988 Olympic Games in Seoul imitated the curves of a Joseon
Dynasty porcelain vase.
The city of Beijing has also seen major transformations since 1989.16 The
focus of urban redevelopment has gradually shifted from the centre around
Tiananmen Square to the north of the city and the site of the 2008 Olympics.
 John Horne and Wolfram Manzenreiter 109

Broudehoux shows how the city’s development in the past 30 years has been
driven by a larger national agenda to consolidate a new political regime
and compete in global marketplaces for capital investment and economic
influence.17 During this time Beijing has come under the influence of local
governmental boosters and private (mainly foreign) development interests that
operate according to the same patterns that ‘growth coalitions’ have exhibited
in cities around the world.18 This has led to the trivialising and commercialising
of local history, the fragmentation and privatisation of the public realm, and
the catering to business elites and tourists at the expense of local communities
and less empowered members of society. Hence key members of what Sudjic
calls the ‘flying circus of the perpetually jet-lagged’ were invited on to the
13-strong jury that judged the competition to design the Olympic Stadium.19
The winners, Jacques Herzog and Pierre de Meuron, who also designed the
Allianz Arena football stadium in Munich, the Tate Modern in London and The
Forum Building in Barcelona, generated the most distinctive Olympic stadium
since ‘Munich’s Teflon-coated tents’.20
In addition to the ‘Bird’s Nest’ stadium, nearby on the Olympic Park was the
National Aquatics Centre (or ‘Water Cube’), designed by Australian architec-
tural firm PTW, and Digital Beijing, the information control and data centre
for the Games. The building of Terminal 3 of Beijing Airport started in 2004,
designed by Lord (Norman) Foster – who also helped design the new Wembley
Stadium in London with HOK – the National Theatre, and the headquarters of
China Central Television (CCTV) by Rem Koolhaas, completes the list of some
of the most iconic architectural structures that have been built in Beijing since
the beginning of the 2000s and the awarding of the Olympic Games.
It is clear that sports and other mega-events have long provided opportu-
nities for nations to signal emergence or re-emergence on the international
stage. Whilst there are and can only be a few ‘global cities’, attempts to
promote locations is a commonplace of the past 15 to 20 years. Whether as
new hubs for business and finance or as tourist destinations, cities increas-
ingly build and utilise iconic architecture and urban spaces to flag their pres-
ence in the world. Sports mega-events play their part in this competition for
global promotion and branding. But this is only one of their contributions.
As Eisinger notes, the ‘politics of bread and circuses’ is about building cities
for the wealthy ‘visitor class’; iconic stadium construction is about flagging
transnational places and creating symbolic capital to attract middle and upper-
middle-class visitors.21
The remainder of this chapter involves consideration of two features of the
Olympic Games: first, the role that the Olympics, as the one of the world’s lead-
ing sports mega-events, plays as a hub for the production of temporalities and
localities; and second, and most important in this essay, the representation of
East Asia as hosts of Olympic Games and other sports mega-events.
110 Olympic Tales from the East: Tokyo 1964, Seoul 1988 and Beijing 2008

The production of temporalities and localities of sports

mega-events

From a macrosociological perspective, Roche cogently suggests interpreting

mega-events as temporal hubs linking individual agency, social structure and
collective orientations.22 We want to add that place-making is a central feature
of what sports mega-events are about. Giving consideration to the way these
aspects are linked with three different levels of temporality – short, medium
and long term – is particularly helpful to understanding their social signifi-
cance. In the short-term, it is the mega-event itself that makes intensive use of
space and place and aggregates large numbers of people at a clearly demarcated
locality over a limited period of time. During the event, space is transformed
into a special place that is inseparably associated with the event. The corporeal
quality of ‘being there’ sharpens the awareness of time and spatial distances
within a social world which is argued to be in danger of diminishing cultural
heterogeneity. Participants thus experience the event as a historic and unique
occurrence. The mega-event space is not restricted to the spatial boundaries of
the sports arena but spills over into the host region at large. Certain areas are
more likely to be infected than others; some, like fan zones and public viewing
areas, are especially designed for this purpose, and sports bars are more prone
to adapt to this objective for obvious reasons. In addition, tourist spots, infra-
structure nodes for long-distance travel, downtown entertainment centres and
other places that cater to the need of visitors from abroad are usually also tied
into the production of event space. Areas that do not conform to the demand of
the event planners and are in danger of distorting the image of the host region,
such as low-key housing estates and industrial zones, are hardly affected, even
if they are located close to the event space. In addressing an international audi-
ence that participates only via media consumption, the event space may also
include more distant localities of symbolic relevance that are highly suggestive
for the construction of image and identity of the host region.
The demarcation of event space and festival time requires symbolic and
ritual procedures. During sports mega-events, rituals appear most obviously at
the boundaries of the ‘staged contest’, marking start and end of play, during
award ceremonies or within the elaborated protocol for opening and closing
ceremonies. These meticulously planned and professionally operated cultural
productions are typically a combination of the timeless ritual of the Olympic
philosophy and a place-bound celebration of the hosting nation. While the lat-
ter allows the host to put its own representation on display by means of various
creative and imaginative technologies, the former must follow a strict proto-
col that distinguishes the Games from any other mega-event. The playscript
for the Olympic ceremonies therefore is more elaborated than the Olympic
Charter; similarly, FIFA’s mandatory guidelines for contracted World Cup hosts
 John Horne and Wolfram Manzenreiter 111

are much more voluminous than the rulebook of the game. Apparently the
rituals do not leave much space for local colour, though host countries actually
employ a variety of strategies to ‘absorb the global in an arrogating process of
remoulding’.23
The 1964 Olympic Games gave Japan the opportunity to put on stage its
return to the international community of nation-states and to celebrate its
rebirth as a peace-loving nation and democratic state. The message was high-
lighted by the final scene of the torch run that had seen the Olympic fire
carried through all regions of Japan. At last it was brought to light the caul-
dron towering above the National Stadium by the hands of Sakai Yoshinori,
a 19-year-old athlete from Hiroshima who had seen the light of the world at
the day when the atomic bomb devastated his home city. The public presenta-
tion of the Emperor as symbol of the state, who fulfilled the honorary role of
opening the Games, and the mass display of the controversial symbols kimigayo
and hinomaru, the national anthem and flag, pleased simultaneously conserva-
tive nationalism and provided a sense of unity to the Japanese spectators.24 The
official logo of the Tokyo Olympics consciously transgressed the space of
the host city. Featuring the red sun of Japan’s national flag, it left no doubt that
these were actually the Japanese Games, and not just the Tokyo Olympics.
In a similar fashion, the ceremony opening the Seoul Olympics in 1988
offered the South Koreans an opportunity to come to terms with a tragic past of
colonial oppression under Japanese imperial rule, a bloody civil war and years
of military dictatorship in a divided country. A young female athlete who had
received the torch from the gold medal winner of the 1936 marathon, Sohn
Kee-chung, lit the Olympic fire. The Korean runner had been forced to partici-
pate at the 1936 Olympics as a subject of the Japanese Empire and thus had to
endure the moment of his greatest triumph under a flag that was not his own
and to music that was not his country’s anthem. These climactic moments of
the opening ceremony powerfully condensed various sets of relations between
East and West, past/present and present/future, senior/junior, male/female,
colonialised/liberated and suffering/rejoicing.
One of the principal problems East Asian organisers of the festivals surround-
ing sports mega-events have to come to terms with is the limited repository
of signs and signifiers they can employ for the representation of the self vis-à-
vis the Western gaze. The quest for authenticity is hampered by a playscript,
stage technologies and an apparatus of signifiers that corresponds, largely, to
the reading abilities of the Western audience. How can a fair and balanced
presentation be achieved when even the act of presentation is a cultural import?
Even though the bilateral relations between Chinese, Koreans and Japanese
may have had a much larger significance for the construction of collective
identities in the past, the reoccurrence of the binary codes of old and new,
tradition and modernity, rural and urban, and spiritual and technological at
112 Olympic Tales from the East: Tokyo 1964, Seoul 1988 and Beijing 2008

the ceremonies clearly hints at the geopolitical location of the main audiences
their producers have in mind. In the case of Seoul 1988, hundreds of scholars
and artists became involved in writing the script of the ceremonies that would
introduce Korea to the world and raise appreciation of forgotten cultural tradi-
tions at home, and according to Kang they succeeded in applying the script
of binary complementarities in line with traditional principles of cultural
organisation.25
The narrative of the Opening Ceremony at the Beijing Olympic Games, how-
ever, seemed to have turned the usual cultural hierarchy (the West topping the
East) upside down. Rather than trying to explain itself to a largely uninformed
world outside, as intended by the organisers of Tokyo’s 1940 Games, and the
meta-physique of South Korea’s coming-out party in 1988, the most spectacu-
lar drama ever shown to the world demonstrated how much Western moderni-
sation was actually indebted to Chinese civilisation. While ancient China had
command over the technological, material and military resources to explore
the world beyond the four oceans, it decided against external expansion and in
favour of aesthetic, intellectual and cultural refinement; 20th-century history
was suspiciously absent from the elaborated show of a Disney-China. A century
ago such a spectacle demonstration may have sufficed to explain the ruling
elites’ claim for power; in contemporary times it hardly will convince anyone
who does not want to believe.
Since the attention the host receives is highly concentrated within a short-
term span of the event, crafting the ceremonial protocol as well as the desig-
nation of event spaces and rules for appropriate on-site behaviour demands
careful planning and preparation on a medium-term level, which also includes
an impact period following the event. Even before the rise of neoliberalism
intensified the competition for global city status, international tourist flows
and investments from abroad and sports mega-events turned into the leisure
industries’ supernovas, they were seen as opportunities for urban development
agendas. Similarly to the way the Tokyo Olympics served as a showcase for
made-in-Japan modern architecture and high technology, the Seoul Olympics
and Beijing Olympics were vested into larger urban planning initiatives in order
to demonstrate modernity and advanced development. The sports stadiums,
highly suggestive edifices themselves, were only the pinnacle extruding from
larger redevelopment sites that, on the one hand, featured the iconic archi-
tecture that powerfully signifies the privileged position of dominant actors
and ideologies within the social order, and on the other hand, forcibly evicted
hundreds of thousands of people out of their previous residential areas to make
way for the construction projects.26
In all these incidents, homeless people were either expelled from the area
or even taken into custody by city authorities since they were least likely
to contribute to the positive responses the organisers were striving for.27
 John Horne and Wolfram Manzenreiter 113

The ideological charging of place in accordance with the politics of place-marketing

and investment has been accompanied by the redefinition of moral probity
and the state-controlled reinforcement of appropriate behaviour in public.
Within the medium-term range of mega-events, the ruling elites have therefore
used the event as an occasion to educate their people in standards of behaviour
that comply with norms imported from abroad. Part of the moral campaigns
ahead of the Tokyo Games 1964 was the instruction to the public to refrain
from urinating at waysides or against trees, which itself was a small section of
an ongoing process of disciplining and managing the human body as clean and
proper in line with Japan’s modernisation politics.28 The issue of sanitisation
standards was also high on the agenda of the National Council Better Korea
Movement, which forged a comprehensive strategy to revitalise a South Korean
society still suffering from the aftermath of the Asian financial crisis in the late
1990s.29 In China, a newspaper report heralded the world-city status of Beijing
in terms of the number of public restrooms, having bypassed contenders like
New York or Tokyo. Similarly, in the context of changing body politics, spitting
in public has become increasingly the object of critical surveillance throughout
East Asia, and in the case of China there were also attempts to ban the exces-
sive usage of swearwords from the social context of sports events where, to
some degree, verbal abuse is usually tolerated. But there is a clear trend towards
the strict control of behaviour even in those spaces that corporatist forms of
urban governance try to marketise as ‘spontaneous’ and ‘carnivalesque’ in a
careful projection of ‘ordered disorder’.30
In long-term perspective, mega-events are important points of reference for
processes of change and modernisation within societies and between states.31
Domestic textbooks on contemporary history herald the Tokyo Olympics and
the Seoul Olympics as powerful signifiers of political change, international
integration and economic development. Despite the ongoing conflicts between
Japan and Korea, the 2002 co-hosted men’s FIFA Football World Cup has been
followed by a number of regular contacts and thus fully bears the potential to
serve one day as a historic marker for the improvement of relations between
the two countries. In the case of the Beijing Olympics, they are very likely
to be used in the future for the purposes of remembering China’s rise to eco-
nomic power, global leadership, or the end of such aspirations. In retrospect,
mega-events are a prototype of Pierre Nora’s lieux de mémoire.32 The mnemonic
technologies of memorising, recording and projection generate a generation’s
collective memories of the past and for future generations, the imagination of
the past. The reflective knowledge that such ‘places of remembrance’ are not a
fixed reality but are constituted within rearranging social, political, cultural or
imaginary spaces can also connect the present with the future past in prospect.
Mega-events thus resemble public investments in the future, as the authori-
ties in charge can read them as mid-term projects of planning a short-term
114 Olympic Tales from the East: Tokyo 1964, Seoul 1988 and Beijing 2008

occurrence for a particular long-term reading of the past from a distant point
somewhere in the future.
The integration of short and long-term dimensions is also reflected by
MacAloon’s neat functional explanation of spectacles such as the Olympic
Games as occasions in which cultures or societies reflect upon and define
themselves, dramatise their collective myths and history, present themselves
with alternatives, and eventually change in some ways while remaining the
same in others.33 But such a functionalist definition over-emphasises the
effectiveness of one master-script and it downplays the interests and impact
of transnational actors such as the IOC, multinational corporations and the
media that have largely gained in significance since then. Back in the 1960s,
hardly anyone would have seriously considered the flagship event of global
sports as business. As a matter of fact, the IOC repeatedly expressed its annoy-
ance with commercialisation sneaking into the Games, the rising grandeur of
hosting and the seriousness of competitiveness between the axes of the Cold
War system. The Seoul Olympics, however, were staged in an environment
that had radically changed since the ‘Hollywood Games’ of Los Angeles 1984
had shown for the first time that privatising the hosting of mega-events could
produce an economic surplus.
The privatisation of broadcasting services and new developments in mass
communication technologies have been the most important factors contribut-
ing to the rising demand for sports events. Print media, television and nowa-
days the internet establish the imagined communities of geographically distant
yet interested and engaged ephemeral communities, united in their shared
interest in sports or the event. In the age of global mass communication tech-
nologies, viewing rates have become more important than live spectators to
demonstrate the size and significance of the event to sponsors, the media and
whoever dares to ask. Official event reports usually quote aggregates of televi-
sion viewers in a size of a multiple of the actual world population, which is
clearly exaggerated but nonetheless a clear hint at both the significance of the
event as well as the assertiveness of its principal rights holders. Tokyo 1964 was
the first Olympic Games to have employed satellite technology for overseas
live broadcasting, while Seoul 1988 was riding high on the lucrative wave of
deregulating national media markets and the inroad of big sponsorship money
into television sports, which is the second most important factor changing
the meaning of sports mega-events. According to the demand of the economy
and in line with the logic of the commodity form, sports and sport events,
particularly as media content, chiefly fulfil the function of linking the manu-
facturers of consumer products with their customers. The alliance of sports
and television is of crucial importance for targeting ever larger audiences, and
the capability of sport to reach transnational customer markets is particularly
appealing. Riding the wave of consumerism, the IOC and FIFA have been able
 John Horne and Wolfram Manzenreiter 115

to cash in twice both by selling exclusive broadcasting rights to media agencies

that resell the rights or net in their investment by selling advertisement time,
and by trading sponsorship rights with their official partners, who in return
are granted global media exposure and the positive association with the sports
event. The state and its local representatives are part of the new global political
economy of sport in as far as they are increasingly forced into underwriting the
private risks of hosting by investing public funds into the required infrastruc-
ture and management of the events while largely giving up control over the
images generated by the new network of institutional powers governing the
narratives of the events.34

Representations of East Asia at sports mega-events

In this final section we want to consider the struggle of East Asian nations in
controlling their representation at global sports events. The susceptibility of
these particular cultural productions for meeting the social demand for spon-
taneous communities and charismatic encounters is only one side of the coin
explaining their popular appeal. As we have argued, the transformation of sports
mega-events into a global spectacle of mediated consumption has amplified the
reliance of their principal agents on financial and technological assistance by
multinational corporations. Pursuing their own interests, these agents devised
the ‘domesticating techniques’ of the media that deliver customer-tailored media
productions of the global event to national audiences and localised consumer
markets. As a result, control of media representations is extremely difficult to
achieve. Another part of the problem is the necessarily abstracted representation
employed by the event producers, which leaves culturally uninitiated audiences
wondering what the flurry of music, dance, costumes and personalities might
all be about, particularly if the sports commentators are badly briefed or mildly
uninterested in the flamboyant supplement to the real sports contest. As an
extensive body of media research demonstrates, hosting in general produces
little new knowledge about the place in question; but the mediated correlation
of a place with a significant event promotes lasting impressions and associations
that audiences make with cities and nations.35
However, as much as the narratives about a certain event are inexorably
linked with the specific historic constellations in which it is embedded – and
we have tried to show how representations and the representational of East Asia
emerged at distinctive historic constellations in conjuncture with both global
political economy and the generic particularities of sports events – questions of
representation and the representational are ultimately bound to the geography
of social relations that constitute the world system of sports. In this regard,
markers of advanced and advancing, or developed and underdeveloped, gain in
significance for the relational positioning of the nation. Within this expanded
116 Olympic Tales from the East: Tokyo 1964, Seoul 1988 and Beijing 2008

spatial context, which has proven to offer stubborn resistance against change,
the under- and misrepresentation of East Asian notions of body culture and
humanist thought are enhanced by an arguably antiquated institutional design
of the international non-governmental organisations in charge of sports. Both of
its main pillars have become increasingly problematic in the course of time. On
the one hand, the power of representation, in the guise of membership rights, is
granted on the axiomatic equation of place, state and culture with a people that
are exclusively associated with both the spatial representation of culture and
the cultural appropriation of the space. This reference to the idealised notion of
the nation-state and state sovereignty is rooted in the political landscape of the
late 19th century, as well as in the retro-futuristic design of the sports spectacles.
Since then, this basis of representation has accompanied more than a century of
world sports without any changes that would have assigned agency, voice and
representation to ethnic or cultural minorities or stateless nations.
On the other hand, the attraction of internationalism and universal human-
ism at the heart of the Olympic philosophy has largely contributed to the
worldwide spread of modern sports and their mega-events. Particularly the insis-
tence on morality, which is readily derived from a reading of the sports ritual
as ‘idealized make-believe versions of the real world’ and the self-acclaimed
transcendence from the politics of the day, continue to have a persisting hold
on the worldwide imagination.36 Yet the claim of universalism and moral supe-
riority has been challenged for the paradoxical ease with which the Olympic
Movement has found itself co-opted by authoritarian regimes and paired with
exploitative capitalist corporations. As in the case of its membership regulations,
the illusion of separating itself from the mundanity of power is another sym-
bolic relic from the political context of 19th-century Europe, while Olympian
universalism is actually deeply entrenched within Eurocentric appropriations
of fundamental human rights. All these inherent contradictions, which have
further been aggravated by the hypocritical politics of some Western states, have
undermined much of the moral legitimacy of the Olympic Movement to speak
on behalf of universal human rights issues. Since the particular international-
ism of the Olympic spirit is not based on the mutual exchange of particular
versions of body cultures and cultural traditions but effectively a one-sided
force impacting upon the signification processes of bodies, athletes and nations
within the peripheries, the Olympic philosophy holds on and actually consoli-
dates the privileges and prerogatives of those agents that have taken a leading
role in developing its agendas.37

Conclusion

In addition to outlining some of the significant moments in Olympic history

in East Asian societies we have suggested that within the social geography of
 John Horne and Wolfram Manzenreiter 117

dominant ideologies and the politics of identity, mega-events continue to be

made subject to discourses using established relationships of signification.
Unless the international organizations of world sports can escape from their
own fallacy, they will remain stuck within the Orientalist binary logic of Self
and Other as pairing identities conceding to the narcissism of the West and its
desire for docile objects of difference, without which the illusion of sameness
cannot be sustained.38 The ‘mother of all sports mega-events’ has emerged and
changed as a distinctive cultural form in response to the shifting constellations
of political, economic and social forces within modern capitalism. Situated at
the crossroads of spectacle, place-making and global body culture, the Olympic
Games have been heralded as a showcase of national virtues and achievements
for global consumption. However, as Asian experiences of hosting the Games
have repeatedly shown, producers see this ambitious goal increasingly difficult
to achieve.

Notes
1. See Manzenreiter, ‘The ‘Benefits’ of Hosting: Japanese Experiences from the 2002
Football World Cup’.
2. According to Collins, ‘“Samurai” Politics: Japanese Cultural Identity in Global
Sport – The Olympic Games as Representational Strategy’, 362.
3. Ibid., 366.
4. See Manzenreiter, ‘Sports, Body Control and National Discipline in Prewar and
Wartime Japan’.
5. See Appadurai, ‘Patriotism and Its Futures’, 419–420.
6. IOC, Olympic Charter
7. Ibid.
8. See Ahn, ‘The 1988 Seoul Summer Olympic Games: A Critical Commentary’.
9. See Brownell, Beijing’s Games: What the Olympics Mean to China.
10. See ibid.
11. Coaldrake, Architecture and Authority in Japan, 259.
12. As quoted in ibid. 256–257.
13. Ibid., 259.
14. Ibid., 261–262.
15. Collins, ‘“Samurai” Politics’, 364.
16. See Broudehoux, The Making and Selling of Post-Mao Beijing; Sudjic, The Edifice
Complex: How the Rich and Powerful Shape the World, 106ff.
17. Broudehoux, The Making and Selling of Post-Mao Beijing.
18. See Schimmel, ‘Sport Matters: Urban Regime Theory and Urban Regeneration in the
Late-Capitalist Era’.
19. The jury comprised seven Chinese and six foreign ‘starchitects’, including Jean
Nouvel, Rem Koolhaas and Dominique Perrault. See Sudjic, The Edifice Complex, 117.
20. Ibid., 117.
21. Eisinger, ‘The Politics of Bread and Circuses: Building a City for the Visitor Class’.
22. Roche, Mega-events and Modernity, 223.
23. Tomlinson, ‘Olympic Spectacle: Opening Ceremonies and Some Paradoxes of
Globalization’, 590.
118 Olympic Tales from the East: Tokyo 1964, Seoul 1988 and Beijing 2008

24. See Tagsold, Die Inszenierung der kulturellen Identität in Japan. Das Beispiel der
Olympischen Spiele Tokyo 1964.
25. See Kang, ‘The Seoul Olympic Games and Dae-Dae Cultural Grammar’.
26. See Broudehoux, The Making and Selling of Post-Mao Beijing; COHRE, Mega-Events,
Olympic Games and Housing Rights Project: Background Studies.
27. Chinese officals rejected COHRE’s estimate, first released in 2007, that ultimately
1.5 million Beijing residents would be moved out of their homes to make space
for Olympic venues, for urban beautification and for projects related to the Games.
Chinese officials said only a few thousand families were involved. See www.wtopnews.
com/?nid=393&sid=1304256 (accessed 15 October 2010).
28. See Otomo, ‘Narratives, the Body and the 1964 Tokyo Olympics’, 117.
29. See Choi, ‘Football and the South Korean Imagination’.
30. Featherstone, Consumer Culture and Postmodernism, 82.
31. Roche, Mega-Events and Modernity, 7.
32. Nora, ‘Between Memory and History: Les Lieux de Mémoire’.
33. MacAloon, ‘Introduction: Cultural Performances, Cultural Theory’, 1.
34. On these developments see Horne and Manzenreiter, ‘Accounting For Mega-Events:
Real and Imagined Impacts of the 2002 Football World Cup Finals on the Host
Countries Japan/Korea’; Manzenreiter and Horne, ‘Playing the Post-Fordist Game
in/to the Far East: Football Cultures and Soccer Nations in China, Japan and
South Korea’.
35. See Rivenburgh, The Olympic Games, Media and the Challenges of Global Image
Making.
36. Cheska, ‘Sports Spectacular: A Ritual Model of Power’, 61.
37. This formulation is basically a variation on Radhakrishnan’s critical stance on glo-
balisation as extension of the regime of uneven development between developed
and developing nations. See Radharkrishnan, ‘Globalization, Desire and the Politics
of Representation’.
38. Wei, ‘The Emergence of Culture and Cultural Emergency: The Conflicting
“Demands” of Cultural Studies’, 457.

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Tagsold, Christian (2002) Die Inszenierung der kulturellen Identität in Japan. Das Beispiel der
Olympischen Spiele Tokyo 1964 (München: Iudicium).
Tomlinson, A. (1996) ‘Olympic Spectacle: Opening Ceremonies and some Paradoxes of
Globalization’, Media, Culture & Society, 18.4, 583–602.
Wei, I. (1997) ‘The Emergence of Culture and Cultural Emergency: The Conflicting
‘Demands’ of Cultural Studies’, MLN, 112.3, 454–469.
8
The XXI Olympiad: Canada’s Claim
or Montreal’s Gain?: Political
and Social Tensions Surrounding
the 1976 Montreal Olympics
Terrence Teixeira

Introduction

May 12, 1970 was a day of dual significance for the city of Montreal. This was
the day that Montreal was awarded the Games of the 21st Olympiad, the first
Canadian city to host the Games. It was also on this day that Liberal Leader
Robert Bourassa became Quebec’s 22nd premier. These two portentous events
symbolised the unholy union of politics and sports. From that day forward, a
bitter clash arose between all three levels of government in Canada – federal,
provincial, and municipal – over the planning, organising and ownership of the
Games. Although it is widely known that the Montreal Olympics were plagued
with issues of mismanagement and overspending, the critical factors that led to
this financial fiasco have not been as thoroughly explored. This chapter will exam-
ine how the fiscal disarray of the Montreal Games was exacerbated by the politics
of Canadian federalism in the 1970s, and how in turn these Games changed the
landscape of the Olympic Movement. The Games emerged as a source of tension
in the Canadian political system as the federal government, province of Quebec
and city of Montreal all attempted to leverage the Games for their own political
gain. What was supposed to be the most modest of Games quickly turned into
a spending spree and arguably resulted in the Montreal Olympics being better
remembered for its billion-dollar debt rather than its electric 15 days of sport.
Drawing upon the conceptual framework of political reform, the chapter
will reflect on the critical period of 1970–76 and how the challenges associated
with planning these Games paralleled the political tensions of the day. It will
explore three main factors in the massive cost overruns and highlight the
effects the Games had on politics in Quebec, post-Olympics. The final section
will analyse the lasting impact that the Montreal Games had on the Olympic
Movement. But first, in order to fully explore the complexities of the 1976
Games, it is useful to understand why the city, province and country wanted
to host the Games in the first place.

120
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 Terrence Teixeira 121

Perspectives of hosting the Games

Montreal’s perspective
A broader political context underlies Montreal’s desire to host the Games than
first meets the eye. Montreal was the economic hub of Quebec, Canada’s only
official French-speaking province, and was second only to Paris as the largest
French-speaking city in the world. Despite these credentials, Montreal was a city
desperately trying to become better known on the world stage. Thus hosting the
Games would provide Montreal with an opportunity to find its own identity
in a country that is often divided between its French and English cultures. The
Olympic Games are often viewed as a mechanism to forge social cohesion and
mobilise nation-wide support, but in the case of these Games, with the eyes of
the entire world watching, it appeared that it was about to do just the opposite.

Quebec’s perspective
Discussions of Montreal putting forth a serious bid for the Summer Games
were held during the 1960s, the height of the Quiet Revolution. This was an
intense period of rapid change in the province brought on by new sentiments
of Quebec sovereignty, raising the desires of many Francophones to increase
their control over the province, both socially and politically. To further this
agenda, the province began demanding and receiving more control over policy
areas that traditionally tended to lie with the federal government. The desire to
increase the province’s autonomy brought into question the balance of power
in Canadian federalism and ultimately allowed Quebec to play a greater role
on the international stage. Despite these devolutionary transformations of the
constitutional landscape in Canada, some Quebecers still believed that secession
from Canada was the only true way for Quebec to maintain its strong cultural
independence. The notion of undertaking the enormous task of hosting the
Olympics would provide Quebec with the opportunity to showcase internation-
ally its strength as a potential independent state as well as create an economic
boon for the province. It was often said that in order for there to be a real sepa-
ratist movement, French Canadians would have to regain control of the Quebec
economy, and the Olympics could have provided just that opportunity.
While the Olympic Games can contribute to the enhancement of national
identity and pride, they also mobilise support for state projects which otherwise
would not materialise.1 Hosting the Olympics is perceived as an opportunity to
attract worldwide attention, create a sudden surge in employment and induce
international spending directly into one city or a particular region of a coun-
try.2 The Quebec government’s heavy investments during the Quiet Revolution
in special infrastructure projects such as the 1976 Olympics can be viewed as
a way to ensure rapid economic growth and greater affluence – and ultimately
autonomy – for the province.3 As a whole, the Olympics presented the prime
122 The XXI Olympiad: Canada’s Claim or Montreal’s Gain?

opportunity for Quebec to demonstrate its control over its own economic and
political state and hence it is not by chance that the desire to host the Games
paralleled the rise of the Quiet Revolution.

Canada’s perspective

The Canadian government, however, wanted to host the Games for similar
reasons but at a national level. It was almost certain that having the Olympic
Games on Canadian soil would increase the nation’s presence on the global
stage. This intention is clearly seen in the 1970 White Paper, Proposed Sports
Policy for Canadians, where the Honourable John Munro, Minister of National
Health and Welfare, stated that sports excellence would boost Canada’s inter-
national stature.4 The report also emphasized that goals of high performance
sport are in the interest of a pan-Canadian unity.
Despite the nation-building benefits associated with hosting the Olympics
Games, Canada’s Prime Minister at the time, Pierre Trudeau, was reluctant to
give Montreal his required approval for hosting the Games, albeit for his own
political agenda. After the much criticised financial support from the federal
government to Montreal for Expo 67, it was a contentious issue for Trudeau to
provide additional funding to the same city.5 In an attempt to further his idea
of regional equality, and potentially gain much needed political support in
Canada’s Western provinces, Trudeau wanted to give the West an international
‘plum’ comparable to Montreal’s Expo 67.6 This point was made clear when
Trudeau ruled out any direct financial support from the federal government if
Montreal hosted the 1976 Summer Olympics.7 Vancouver was simultaneously
bidding for the 1976 Winter Olympics and, as it is against Olympic conven-
tion to give the same country both the Summer and Winter Olympics in the
same year, Trudeau signalled to the International Olympic Committee (IOC)
the government’s preference for the Vancouver bid by agreeing to pay upfront
for one-third of Vancouver’s costs if it were to host the Games.8 Conflict arose
immediately between the two provinces over which should host the Games. For
instance, members of parliament representing Vancouver and British Columbia
stated, ‘Montreal would be hard pressed to mount a successful international
piano festival, let alone the Olympics’.9 Trudeau’s ultimate goal was to ensure
that a successful Olympic Games did indeed come to Canada, but his preference
lay in having an Olympics which would further increase his support in Western
Canada along with putting into practice his vision of regional balance.

Drapeau’s Olympic bid

Despite the political chaos surrounding Montreal’s bid for the Games, the city’s
Mayor, Jean Drapeau, stood by his city. This position was reflected over his
 Terrence Teixeira 123

entire political career which included 29 years as Montreal’s Mayor, preceded

by an unsuccessful attempt at federal politics as a candidate for a Quebec
nationalist party. He continually justified his city’s bid for the 1976 Olympics
and held up the success of Expo 67 as proof of his city’s capacity for handling
such an international feat. The World’s Fair in 1967 drew more than 50 million
visitors over six months and received overwhelming accolades in the world
media.10 However, the cost of Expo 67 was double its original estimates and
resulted in a debt of over $CAD200 million to be covered by various levels of
government. Nonetheless, Mayor Drapeau believed that the Olympics, build-
ing on the success of Expo, would create a series of expansions in Montreal
that would result in lasting impacts to the city and would see Montreal join the
ranks of Paris, London and Tokyo as one of the greatest cities in the world.11
Even with this grandiose vision in mind, he repeatedly promised an inexpen-
sive and ‘self-financing’ Olympics with no request for special aid from the
federal government in Ottawa.
This creation of limited connections and accountability to Ottawa reinforced
the growing political tensions that were brought about by the Quiet Revolution.
An economic objective of the Quiet Revolution was to replace English-Canadian
and American capital with Quebec capital, and if Drapeau could limit any
relationship with the federal government this objective would in part be
accomplished.12 Drapeau hinted at this when saying, ‘the only way we’re going
to survive is to make our mark not only on this country, but on the entire
continent’.13
Mayor Drapeau came one step closer to making this vision a reality, when in
Amsterdam on 20 May 1970 a decision by the IOC was made to award Montreal
with the 1976 Summer Olympic Games. This was a significant achievement,
considering that the city beat off two arguably better known and more conven-
tional host cities – Los Angeles and Moscow. To celebrate, Drapeau had nearly
three dozen kinds of Quebecois delicacies weighing over 800 pounds flown in
from Quebec overnight for the victory banquet. This type of lavish spending
just one day after winning the bid foreshadowed the wasteful overspending
that was to come over the next six years.

The true cost of the Games

The Montreal Olympics are often labelled as Drapeau’s billion-dollar dream.

But what began as a promise by the Mayor to be the first ever ‘self-financing’
Games in Olympic history turned into a 30-year debt, where by the time the
last payment was made in 2006, Montreal taxpayers had spent more than
$2 billion on the Games.14 This high level of debt came as a shock to many,
especially after the Mayor expressed with confidence in an interview that ‘The
Montreal Olympics can no more have a deficit than a man can have a baby’.15
124 The XXI Olympiad: Canada’s Claim or Montreal’s Gain?

However, the gestation period for the Olympics made a lie of Drapeau’s brazen
statement, as the actual cost of hosting the Games escalated to over ten times
the original 1970 estimate. The three main factors which contributed to the
costs of the Montreal Games reaching such astronomical levels were:

• the selection of the main architect;

• extreme levels of inflation; and
• tainted relationships between the city and the federal government.

The true cost: selection of the main architect

From the outset, Drapeau had one particular architect in mind – Roger
Taillibert, a French architect well known for designing the Parc des Princes in
Paris. The notion of selecting an architect from France to design a key aspect
of the ‘Canadian’ Olympics left a bad taste in the mouths of many Canadians.
Taillibert became the first non-national architect to design the main Olympic
facilities and received this honour by also being the first architect to not have to
participate in a competitive process to win the Olympic contract.16 The combi-
nation of Taillibert and Drapeau resulted in a flamboyant duo, where grandeur
and imagination often outweighed pragmatism and reality.
As Taillibert was from France, his apparent unfamiliarity with Montreal’s
harsh winters and his limited knowledge of the geographical area led to costly
mistakes. For example, the velodrome was built on an area of land that could
not support its enormous weight. Local designers or those who had worked
in Montreal before would most likely have known this. Correcting this error
required massive amounts of extra work and concrete. The cost to build the
foundation of the velodrome escalated from nearly $500,000 to over $7 mil-
lion, resulting in a cost 14 times greater than expected.17 With continuous cost
overruns and the prospect that Montreal might be left with a debt, the Mayor
began to change his tone over the expected cost of the games. In response
to increasing public outcry over the costs, Drapeau insisted that the Games
‘would not cost a cent more than the city would have to pay for the same
installations without the Games’.18
With Drapeau controlling the purse strings and Taillibert at the drawing
board, numerous ‘modest’ structures for the ‘modest’ Games were designed,
including an $8 million water fountain in a parking lot and a stadium that
incorporated what would be the world’s tallest inclined tower. For coming up
with such designs, Taillibert would have a modest contract (although never
signed) estimated at between $45 and $50 million. Previously, the largest North
American architectural contract was the construction of a $9.8 million US Air
Force Academy. To give this some additional perspective, total income for all
of Quebec’s 1200 architects in 1974 was $24 million.19
 Terrence Teixeira 125

Such large and what many would consider unnecessary costs further
exacerbated the impact the Olympics had on Montreal. As Olympic convention
has shown, for a period of time, generally six to ten years, the major inward
investment of a host city, and typically the country, is channelled to the
immediate vicinity.20 Given that 120,000 Montrealers at the time were below
the poverty line,21 Drapeau received much criticism over his lavish spending to
create an Olympic park, a 20km addition to the subway line, and a new airport
along with new hotels and roads,22 as opposed to providing spending on sorely
needed social programs such as low-cost housing.23 The Mayor, unhindered
by these criticisms, blithely told a Board of Trade audience that, ‘2,500 years
ago Pericles too was criticized for building the Acropolis instead of warships’.24
With Taillibert at the helm of Olympic design, the idea of creating a sustainable
and affordable Games was never realised.

The true cost: inflation

During the 1970s, Canada experienced massive unforeseen inflationary increases
that resulted in additional cost pressures on the Games. From 1970 through
to 1976, the entire planning period of the Montreal Olympics, Canada saw
an inflationary rise of around 50 per cent. However, other goods that were
essential to construction saw inflationary increases much greater than this.
Steel, for example, went from $200 a ton to $1000, a staggering fivefold price
increase.25
The impact of inflation during the 1970s was exacerbated by delays from
the federal government to pass legislation that would enable the Organizing
Committee to begin various funding schemes.

The true cost: intergovernmental relations

Although the Olympic Games and their organisers are supposed to refrain from
entering the political realm, in reality it is impossible to imagine something as
large and powerful as the Olympics not influencing or being influenced by the
politics of the day. Lord Killanin, who was IOC President from 1972 to 1980,
said ‘95% of his problems as President of the IOC involved either national or
international politics’.26 Killanin’s wife furthered this by saying she believed
that the coronary he suffered in 1977 was due in part to the increasing burden
of problems he had to face during 1975 and 1976, the peak years of trouble for
the Montreal Olympics.27
In preparing to host an Olympic Games, it is critical that all levels of govern-
ment in a country work together in an efficient and amicable manner. The fact
that Mayor Drapeau, Premier Bourassa and Prime Minister Trudeau appeared to
have uneasy relationships with one another from the outset undermined the
possibility of any close intergovernmental cooperation.28 Trudeau and Drapeau
had known each other as students, but Trudeau was vocal about never trusting
126 The XXI Olympiad: Canada’s Claim or Montreal’s Gain?

him. This was exemplified in Trudeau’s comment to reporters, in reference

to Drapeau’s estimated costs of hosting the Games: ‘I smell a rat – you smell
a rat?’29 He said he was suspicious of the Mayor’s true intentions in hosting
the Games due to the repeated assurances of no required federal assistance.
Trudeau was also critical of Premier Bourasssa and often looked down on him
personally, once disparagingly referring to him as a mangeur d’hot dog (hot dog
eater).30 He also criticised Bourassa’s intelligence in terms of funding for the
Olympics. When Bourassa told Trudeau, ‘You won’t have to pay for the deficit
if there isn’t one and you won’t have to pay for the deficit if it’s small. But if
it’s a big one, then our thinking is going to change.’31 Needless to say, Trudeau’s
response was less than favourable.
With this very present and public tension between the three levels of govern-
ment, it was challenging to think that any form of cooperation would material-
ise. Trudeau stated from the beginning that he would not agree to any funding
structure unless he received a guarantee from Drapeau that the federal govern-
ment would not be held responsible for any deficit incurred by the Games.32
Drapeau was confident in his funding mechanisms and only asked the federal
government to authorise a national lottery, establish an Olympic stamp and
pass legislation to permit the minting of commemorative coins.
The possibility of delivering on these three requests in a timely fashion would
soon be lost as Trudeau focused attention on to his own challenge – the upcom-
ing federal election. After the 1972 election, Trudeau went from a majority to
winning a minority government by only two seats. He also experienced major
losses in Canada’s western provinces, going from 22 seats to a meagre five.
Trudeau was able to help buoy this tenuous control of the House of Commons
by relying on support from the left of centre New Democratic Party. However,
this party happened to oppose federal spending on the Games, instead opting
for funds spent on athleticism to be spread across the entire country.33 As the
Games drew closer, Trudeau began to feel some level of sympathy for Montreal
and agreed to Drapeau’s three requests along with providing security and help-
ing to pay for a broadcast centre.34 These funds, however, did not come without
conditions. The federal funding agency would only sponsor Olympic posters if
the headings were ‘Canada’ and not ‘Montreal’. These posters were supposed to
be sent not just across Canada, but also around the world.35 From the perspec-
tive of Ottawa, this was a clear attempt to signal to the world that it was indeed
in control of not only these Olympics, but also the federation.

Paying for the Games: funding schemes

In November 1972, Mayor Drapeau announced that the Games would cost
$310 million, up from the 1970 estimate of $120 million. $250 million would
be for facilities and $60 million for administration. Drapeau derived the
 Terrence Teixeira 127

financing of the Games based on a series of revenue-generating schemes he

would create: $250 million would come from the sale of Olympic coins, $32
million from the Olympic lottery and $10 million from Olympic stamps. He
believed that the remaining $18 million would easily be recouped through
the sale of tickets, television rights and souvenirs.36 However, his financing
schemes did not prove as successful as planned.
Olympic coins are meant as a permanent memento and aim to increase inter-
est in both the Olympic Games and the host city. Above all, the sales of coins
result in increased revenue for the Organizing Committee. However, Montreal
netted only half of what was expected. This was largely a matter of ill-timing: if
the federal government and Drapeau had come to an agreement in the early part
of 1972, as opposed to just one year later, the Royal Canadian Mint would have
been able to pay $1.90 per ounce for silver as opposed to $4 an ounce. High silver
prices and inflation, together with a strike at the Mint, dramatically drove up the
cost of producing the coins and reduced profit margins. Even though the coins
may not have been as successful as originally thought, it did allow Canadians
and other Olympic fans around the world to help finance the Games directly.
The Olympic stamps were another funding mechanism, similar to the coins,
that allowed the general Canadian public, and indeed the world, to support the
Games. As the postal service is under federal jurisdiction in Canada, the stamps
also required legislation from Ottawa. Each stamp, which was on sale from
1973 through to 1976, was marked with two dollar values; the first was the
value of the stamp and the second signified a contributory amount towards the
Olympics. It was expected that the stamps would yield considerable profits for
the Games, but in the end the program failed to reach its $10 million target.37
The National Olympic Lottery was by far the most intricate financing scheme
Drapeau undertook.38 As gaming in Canada is a provincial jurisdiction, the
Olympic Lottery not only required legalisation from Ottawa but also approval
from each province for tickets to be sold in their jurisdictions. The provinces
imposed a condition where revenues raised by the lottery would be used only
to organise the Games and not to build permanent installations in Montreal.
All provinces agreed to the lottery scheme and the necessary legislation was
introduced in the House of Commons in February 1973, and on 27 July 1973
the Federal Olympic Act was passed. This would be Canada’s first ever nation-
wide lottery. Although the Games officially came to a close on 1 August 1976,
the Olympic lottery continued on until 1979, with only Quebec’s portion of
lottery revenues going to offset the Olympic deficit.

Reconsidering Montreal

With considerable cost overruns and the prospect of an unfinished Olympic

stadium, consideration was given to moving the Olympics to another city.
128 The XXI Olympiad: Canada’s Claim or Montreal’s Gain?

Germany appeared to be a potential replacement and Mexico City, host of the

1968 Games, agreed to stage the 1976 Games in an emergency case.39 Amidst
threats of losing the Olympics and rumours of scandals in the Canadian
administration of the Games, the Quebec provincial government began an
investigation in January 1975. The Quebec Assembly Committee looked into
the finances and construction aspects of the Games, and on 18 November 1975
control of the Games was taken from Mayor Drapeau and handed over to the
province of Quebec.40 Lord Killanin would later state that without the interven-
tion of the Quebec government, the Games would not have taken place.41
Control now firmly with the province, Premier Robert Bourassa was pre-
sented with an opportunity to be visible and directly involved with the execu-
tion of the Games. When Bourassa came into office in 1970, he promised to
create 100,000 new jobs in Quebec.42 Given that a sudden surge in employ-
ment is a trend that host cities often experience, taking control of the Games
presented him and his government with an opportunity to make a memorable
impact that he hoped the voters of Quebec would remember.
Once Quebec took over, it appeared the Games were back on track. The
new positive feelings surrounding the Games were so prominent that Premier
Bourassa planned an Olympic Tour for the press three months before the Games
were to begin. The tour of the future Olympic site was to project to the people
of Montreal and Quebec that Bourassa and his government were the saviours of
the Games.43 However, this public relations ploy quickly turned sour as minutes
before the tour was to begin the site experienced its twelfth fatal accident.44
Ironically, this event only refuelled tensions over the worth of the Games and
brought with it clouds of doubt just months before the opening ceremonies.

After the Games

The struggle between the various levels of government and the significant costs of
the Games tarnished not only the reputation of Montreal but also of the Olympic
Movement. There was a general feeling that the Montreal Games frightened
potential hosts, who believed it was no longer possible to stage the Games at a
reasonable cost. This is evidenced by the fact that only two cities bid for the 1980
Games and only one for the 1984 Games. This was a dramatic change from the
past, where since the 1936 Games at least four cities had vied to host the Games.
All this hardship on the province of Quebec, and specifically on Montreal, made
many Quebecers question the true benefits of hosting the Olympics.
Quebec separatists had originally believed that the Olympics would showcase
their province’s own capacity and maturity to the world. However, the ensuing
organisational fiasco was an international embarrassment, tarnishing Quebec’s
reputation and leading many separatists to believe that only a Parti Quebecois
(PQ ) government could be trusted to prioritise Quebec’s interests rather than
 Terrence Teixeira 129

sacrifice them to an ignominious pan-Canadian project. From 1968 to 1976,

support for the PQ grew from 24 per cent to 41 per cent on the day they were
elected to government, 16 November 1976.45 The PQ used the Olympics to show
that Bourassa was a liability rather than an asset, due to his inability to carry out
major projects.46 The PQ also never hesitated to point out that it was willing to
address, unlike the Liberals, questions that were of more importance to voters
than the tower of the Olympic Stadium.47
Early in his term, René Lévesque, the newly minted PQ Premier of Quebec,
initiated an inquiry to determine responsibility for the astronomical cost over-
run of the Olympics. He was hoping for a scathing report on how Bourassa
and his Liberal government handled the Olympics.48 Three years and $3 mil-
lion later, the Malouf inquiry presented its findings. Much to the chagrin of
Lévesque, Judge Malouf concluded that Montreal’s Drapeau was largely to blame
and placed no fault on the province, stating that Premier Bourassa had limited
control over the city and that the province intervened as soon as it could.49 The
report stated that ‘Drapeau appointed himself foreman and project manager’ for
the creation of Montreal’s new facilities without the ‘aptitude and knowledge’
needed to successfully complete the job.50 Lévesque was surprised that the report
did not hold the provincial government of the day more responsible for the high
levels of expenditures of taxpayers’ money.51 In addition to blaming Drapeau as
the primary culprit, the report was also highly critical of a political system that
allowed municipal authorities to act independently, without another body keep-
ing things in check.52 The report, which Lévesque had hoped would heighten
tension between the people of Quebec and the Liberal party, resulted in being
nothing more than a caustic report on Drapeau and the city of Montreal.

Changes to the Olympic Movement

The legacy of the Montreal Olympics had a significant influence on the broader
Olympic Movement. The Montreal Games changed how potential host cit-
ies viewed the opportunity of hosting the Olympics. For starters, there was
a drastic decrease in the number of cities which bid for subsequent Games.
Many potential hosts no longer felt that the Games were a viable option unless
they had large coffers of money that could be used to support a potentially
large deficit. As mentioned previously, this was evidenced by the 1980 Games,
where there were only two competitors, the same two that Montreal had
earlier defeated – Moscow and Los Angeles. Four years later, Los Angeles was
the only city to make a bid for the 1984 Games. At the time, citizens of Los
Angeles expressed strong concern that their city would be subject to similar
levels of debt as Montreal. This concern resulted in a referendum, the outcome
of which expressly forbade public financing of the Los Angeles Games unless
there was a legally binding guarantee of reimbursement.53 As the IOC had only
130 The XXI Olympiad: Canada’s Claim or Montreal’s Gain?

the choice of this one city to host the 1984 Games, it allowed for many policy
changes that ran counter to the Olympic Charter. One of the most notable
was that the IOC waived Rule 4 and for the first time excluded the host city
from any financial responsibilities. Secondly, the IOC agreed to waive Rule
21, which previously assigned all proceeds from the Games to the IOC. Both
amendments were a direct result of the financial outcome in Montreal. With
these amendments in place, the Olympics experienced watershed change; the
Los Angeles Games would be financed by private sources and for the first time
were organised by a private, non-governmental committee.54
A further important improvement was the IOC’s preference for bid cities to
have a significant amount of infrastructure already in place. This was intended
to alleviate much of the headache and cost overruns that were associated with
the Montreal Games. Instead of the large infusions of money into a city in a
short period of time, the build-up of a city could be done over a more natural
period. In Montreal, the Olympic Village and almost all sporting facilities had
to be built over a period of just six years. In comparison, Los Angeles built
only three new sporting venues, two of them underwritten by McDonald’s and
Southland Corporation (7-Eleven). By utilising existing buildings and retrofit-
ting old ones, Los Angeles was able to keep infrastructure costs low.
Another major change post-Montreal was the number of sponsors. Montreal
had 628 sponsors compared to Moscow’s 35 four years later and around 40 in
the Games of the 1990s.55 Although the number of sponsors decreased, the
revenues they generated increased dramatically from $48 million in Montreal,
to around $200 million in the 1980s, and $600 million in the 1990s (all figures
expressed in US$ based on prices in 2000).56 Montreal was a turning-point for
Olympic sponsorship, with preference now given to a handful of top mega-
sponsors over a plethora of smaller ones.
Beyond financial troubles, the Montreal Games were affected by a large
boycott from African nations. In early 1976, the New Zealand rugby team
toured South Africa, disregarding the United Nations’ call for a sporting
embargo. African nations demanded that New Zealand be barred from the
Montreal Games, but the IOC found no justification for this move, especially
considering that rugby is not an Olympic sport. Then, with just 48 hours
before the opening ceremony and many African athletes already in Canada,
over 20 African nations withdrew their athletes from the Games. In an attempt
to avoid a last minute large-scale boycott in the future, the IOC passed a new
rule stating that a National Olympic Committee that had entered athletes for
competition could not withdraw them except on the grounds of health.57

Conclusion

The 1976 Montreal Olympics were a major source of tension, causing friction
between the three levels of government in Canada, particularly between Quebec
 Terrence Teixeira 131

federalists and Quebec separatists. The municipal, provincial and federal

governments each wanted to host the Games for their own political reasons, but
all had to make concessions in order to allow the Games to successfully take
place. Although the Olympics were not the sole cause of intergovernmental
discord in Canada during the 1970s, they were indeed a major source.
The initial unwillingness of the varying levels of government to work together
in a harmonious manner caused major delays in the preparation of the Olympics
which ultimately escalated the costs dramatically. It is unfortunate that the com-
plex interplay of Canadian federalism had to be borne out on the world stage at
a time when cities around the world were looking to Montreal as an example of
a modest yet successful Olympics. However, as events unfolded a very different
outcome emerged. Potential host cities became skittish at the prospect of the
once sacred Olympic opportunity, and the ability of a smaller city with limited
resources to host the Games was perceived as unviable. The Montreal Olympics
became synonymous with political infighting and financial mismanagement
on an epic scale – a reputation that was further damaged when Canada claimed
the infamous title of the first host nation of a Summer Olympics to not win a
Gold medal (a feat repeated in the 1988 Calgary Olympics, but avoided on day
three of the 2010 Vancouver Games). As the analysis presented here has set out
to demonstrate, the situation faced by the Montreal Games was not a systemic
result of a small city attempting to host a mega-sports event, but rather the
result of a series of smaller events that mainly stemmed from a complex inter-
governmental struggle over the future of Canada.

Notes
1. Girginov and Parry, The Olympic Games Explained, 119.
2. Burbank, Andranovich and Heying, Olympic Dreams: the Impact of Mega-Events on
Local Politics, 30.
3. Gagnon and Montcalm, Quebec: Beyond the Quiet Revolution, 49.
4. Zeigler, ‘Canada at the Crossroads in International Sport’, 210.
5. Organizing Committee of the Games of the XXI Olympiad, Montreal 1976, Official
Report of the Games of the XXI Olympiad in Montreal, 14.
6. Kidd, ‘The Culture Wars of the Montreal Olympics’, 154.
7. Ibid.
8. Ibid.
9. Auf der Maur, The Billion-Dollar Game, 16.
10. Organizing Committee of the Games of the XXI Olympiad, Montreal 1976, Official
Report . . ., 12.
11. Ibid., 13.
12. Gagnon and Montcalm, Quebec: Beyond the Quiet Revolution, 178.
13. McKenna and Purcell, Drapeau, 67.
14. Sarantakes, Dropping the Torch: Jimmy Carter, the Olympic Boycott, and the Cold War, 29.
15. Espy, The Politics of the Olympic Games, 160.
16. Auf der Maur, The Billion-Dollar Game, 38.
17. Ibid., 98.
132 The XXI Olympiad: Canada’s Claim or Montreal’s Gain?

18. Ibid., 39.

19. Ibid., 122.
20. Girginov and Parry, The Olympic Games Explained, 119.
21. Dewar, Montreal: Preparing for the 1976 Olympics, 227.
22. Girginov and Parry, The Olympic Games Explained, 128.
23. Frayne, ‘Montreal’s Extravagant Games’, 109.
24. Ibid.
25. Ludwig, Five Ring Circus: the Montreal Olympics, 36.
26. Girginov and Parry, The Olympic Games Explained, 154.
27. Killanin, My Olympic Years, 120.
28. Kidd, ‘The Culture Wars of the Montreal Olympics’, 155.
29. Auf der Maur, The Billion-Dollar Game, 39.
30. MacDonald, From Bourassa to Bourassa: Wilderness to Restoration, 17.
31. Dupont, How Levesque Won, 16.
32. CBC, ‘A “Self-financing” Olympics?’.
33. Kidd, ‘The Culture Wars of the Montreal Olympics’, 156.
34. Senn, Power, Politics and the Olympic Games, 164.
35. Kidd, ‘The Culture Wars of the Montreal Olympics’, 157.
36. Howell, The Montreal Olympics: An Insider’s View of Organizing a Self-financing Games, 47.
37. Organizing Committee of the Games of the XXI Olympiad, Montreal 1976, Official
Report . . ., 74.
38. Auf der Maur, The Billion-Dollar Game, 43.
39. Dewar, ‘Montreal: Preparing for the 1976 Olympics’, 224.
40. Ibid., 225.
41. Killanin, My Olympic Years, 125.
42. Tanguay, ‘Sclerosis or a Clean Bill of Health?’, 223.
43. Dewar, Montreal: Preparing for the 1976 Olympics, 226.
44. Zeigler, ‘Canada at the Crossroads in International Sport’, 216.
45. Coleman, The Independence Movement in Quebec 1945–1980, 221.
46. Dupont, How Levesque Won, 16.
47. Ibid., 41.
48. Fraser and Owen, René Lévesque and the Parti Quebecois in Power, 376.
49. The National, ‘Judge Blames Drapeau’, originally aired 5 June 1980.
50. Jennings and Simson, The Lords of the Rings, 50.
51. Payne, Olympic Turnaround, 9.
52. The National, ‘Judge Blames Drapeau’.
53. Perelman (ed.), Official Report of the Games of the XXIIIrd Olympiad Los Angeles 1984, 9.
54. Ibid., 10.
55. Preuss, The Economics of Staging the Olympics, 129.
56. Ibid., 130.
57. Killanin, My Olympic Years, 136.

References
Auf der Maur, N. (1976) The Billion-Dollar Game (Toronto: James Lorimer and
Company).
Burbank, M. J., G. D. Andranovich and C. H. Heying (2001) Olympic Dreams: the Impact
of Mega-Events on Local Politics (Boulder: Lynne Rienner).
 Terrence Teixeira 133

CBC (Canadian Broadcasting Corporation) (1973) ‘A “Self-financing” Olympics?’,

29 January, at: http://archives.cbc.ca/sports/olympics/topics/1316-7917/ (accessed 14
September 2011).
Coleman, W. D. (1984) The Independence Movement in Quebec 1945–1980 (Toronto:
University of Toronto Press).
Dewar, J. (1976) ‘Montreal: Preparing for the 1976 Olympics’, in Peter J. Graham and
Horst Ueberhorst (eds), The Modern Olympics (Cornwall: Leisure Press).
Dupont, P. (1977) How Lévesque Won (Toronto: James Lormier & Company).
Espy, R. (1979) The Politics of the Olympic Games (Berkeley: University of California
Press).
Fraser, G. and I. Owen (2001) René Lévesque and the Parti Quebecois in Power (Montreal:
McGill-Queen’s University Press).
Frayne, T. (1996) ‘Montreal’s Extravagent Games’, in Jack Batten (ed.), Canada at the
Olympics (Toronto: Infact), 104–117.
Gagnon, A. and M. B. Montcalm (1990) Quebec: Beyond the Quiet Revolution (Toronto:
Nelson Canada).
Girginov, V. and J. Parry (2005) The Olympic Games Explained (New York: Routledge).
Howell, P. C. (2009) The Montreal Olympics: An Insider’s View of Organizing a Self-Financing
Games (Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press).
Jennings, A. and V. Simson (1992) The Lords of the Rings: Power, Money and Drugs in the
Modern Olympics (Toronto: Stoddart).
Kidd, B. (1992) ‘The Culture Wars of the Montreal Olympics’, International Review for the
Sociology of Sport, 27.2, 151–162.
Killanin, Lord (1983) My Olympic Years (London: Martin Secker & Warburg).
Ludwig, J. (1976) Five Ring Circus: the Montreal Olympics (Toronto: Doubleday Canada).
MacDonald, I. L. (1992) From Bourassa to Bourassa: Wilderness to Restoration, 2nd ed.
(Montreal: McGill-Queen’s University Press).
McKenna, B. and S. Purcell (1981) Drapeau (Toronto: Penguin).
Organizing Committee of the Games of the XXI Olympiad, Montreal 1976 (1978) Official
Report of the Games of the XXI Olympiad in Montreal, 3 vols. Copyright by COJO 76,
Ottawa, 1978.
Payne, M. (2006) Olympic Turnaround (London: London Business Press Limited).
Perelman, R. B. (ed.) (1985) Official Report of the Games of the XXIIIrd Olympiad Los Angeles,
1984: Volume I (Los Angeles: Los Angeles Olympic Organizing Committee).
Preuss, H. (2004) The Economics of Staging the Olympics: A Comparison of the Games
1972–2008 (Cheltenham: Edward Elgar).
Sarantakes, N. E. (2011) Dropping the Torch: Jimmy Carter, the Olympic Boycott, and the Cold
War (New York: Cambridge University Press).
Senn, A. E. (1999) Power, Politics and the Olympic Games (Champaign: Human Kinetics,
1999).
Tanguay, B. A. (2004) ‘Sclerosis or a Clean Bill of Health? Diagnosing Quebec’s Party
System in the Twenty-First Century’, in A. Gagnon (ed.), Quebec: State and Society
(Toronto: Broadview Press), 221–244.
The National, ‘Judge Blames Drapeau’, originally aired 5 June 1980.
Zeigler, E. (1976) ‘Canada at the Crossroads in International Sport’, in P. J. Graham and
H. Ueberhorst (eds), The Modern Olympics (Cornwall: Leisure Press), 203–219.
9
A Gold Medal for the Market:
The 1984 Los Angeles Olympics,
the Reagan Era, and the Politics
of Neoliberalism
Rick Gruneau and Robert Neubauer

The 1984 Summer Olympic Games in Los Angeles are widely viewed as a
transitional moment when the Olympic movement retreated from the idea of
government-supported organisation in favour of a new model of private–public
partnerships, built heavily on corporate sponsorship. Olympic supporters have
viewed this transition as a story of success and salvation. The market-oriented
approach introduced in Los Angeles is said to have ‘saved’ the Olympics by
lessening the financial burdens on host cities and increasing the economic
attractiveness of the Olympic Games as an international event.1 The years
since 1984 have seen the continued growth of revenues for Olympic sport as
the IOC has evolved into a sophisticated corporate organisation with a clear
understanding of how best to commercialise the Olympic ‘brand’.
In recent years there have been numerous discussions of the economic
aspects of the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics. There has also been a great deal of
research describing the growth of Olympic sponsorship and television revenues
since the 1984 LA Games, with particular emphasis on the strategies used by
the International Olympic Committee to strengthen its global financial posi-
tion and extend its political influence.2 Researchers have also examined the
prominent role that the Olympics have come to play since the early 1980s
in the economic development strategies of cities around the world and in
changing forms of urban governance.3 However, in our view, there has been
insufficient attention paid to the complexity of economic and political condi-
tions leading up to the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics, nor do we believe that the
political and ideological dimensions of the 1984 Los Angeles Games have been
studied in sufficient depth.
In this chapter we take up these issues by examining the changing economic
and political dynamics that shaped the Olympics after the Second World War
and created the conditions for an Olympics led by private enterprise in Los
Angeles in 1984. We argue that the Los Angeles Games were not only a piv-
otal moment in the evolution of the Olympics, they also helped to legitimate
134
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 Rick Gruneau and Robert Neubauer 135

a sweeping neoliberal political project in the United States, with repercussions

that have been felt across the globe. To develop the argument we examine
how the Los Angeles Games dovetailed conveniently with the Reagan-era
Republicans’ program of deregulating US public institutions and public services,
in addition to promoting a philosophy of hyper-individualism, tax cuts and
more flexible approaches to economic accumulation. For Ronald Reagan the suc-
cess of the 1984 Los Angeles Summer Games provided common-sense evidence
of the superiority of the private sector over the ability of governments to solve
problems and provide important services, and Reagan used the example of the
Los Angeles Games repeatedly in his successful re-election campaign in the Fall
of 1984. Many of the connections established between neoliberalism and the
Olympics in 1984 have evolved over the past 25 years, but in our view neoliber-
alism remains one of the most significant legacies of the Los Angeles Games.

The Olympics and the long postwar boom

For nearly 30 years after 1945 the world’s industrialised nations experienced
a period of remarkable economic growth based on the principles of central-
ised mass factory production, mass consumption, managerial innovation and
unprecedented state investment.4 Much of this growth was due to the matura-
tion of powerful postwar industries associated with cars, steel, petrochemicals,
rubber, plastics and construction materials.5 In North America and Europe, in
particular, workers in these industries were heavily unionised with nearly full
employment and incomes large enough to support a growing demand for a
wide range of consumer goods and services. The postwar boom was also driven
by ‘state-sponsored reconstruction of war-torn economies, suburbanization
particularly in the United States, urban renewal, geographical expansion of
transport and communications systems and infrastructural development’, and
an expanding consumer market driven by the entertainment industries of
film, television and recorded music.6 The capital for such growth was coordi-
nated through a range of national public institutions in individual industrial
societies, as well as through a web of interlinked financial centres around the
world, with the United States, and especially New York, leading the way.7
In the political realm, a rejection of the laissez-faire policies which were
seen to have caused the Great Depression opened the door to increased state
intervention in the market to promote economic growth and social welfare.
Notably, the British economist John Maynard Keynes attacked the free-market
fundamentalism of neoclassical economics, arguing that building and main-
taining aggregate demand in modern societies, and eliminating financial
instability, were the keys to economic prosperity.8 In the grip of Keynesian
thinking northern governments enacted capital controls, corporate tax rates
rose, government regulations proliferated, and fiscal and monetary policies
136 A Gold Medal for the Market: The 1984 Los Angeles Olympics

were employed to ‘dampen business cycles and . . . ensure reasonably full

employment’.9 Stability was further underpinned by institutionalised wealth
redistribution through collective bargaining and state provision of a social
wage, while ‘working class institutions such as labour unions and political
parties of the left’ gained influence.10 Expanded public expenditures in health
care and education further dampened class antagonisms.11 Underpinning this
stability was an uneasy compromise between labour and capital, the latter of
which grudgingly tolerated Keynesian intervention in return for high growth
rates and diminished working-class militancy.
These sweeping economic, political and social changes provided a context
rich with possibilities for the IOC after the war. While the Olympics had
grown steadily through the early years of the 20th century, many of the
Olympic Games of the prewar era had struggled with financial viability. One
obvious aspect of the problem of revenue production lay in the IOC’s early
ambivalent relationship with commerce, embracing commercial sponsorship
at some moments, while rejecting it strongly at others. For example, the IOC
experimented with the sale of official rights to sell pictures and memorabilia
as early as the Stockholm Olympics in 1912 and the Olympic Stadium in Paris
was filled with advertising posters.12 Yet, a backlash within the IOC in the
mid-1920s led to tightened anti-commercial provisions, including a ban on
stadium advertising.13
Furthermore, there were no significant media and sponsorship revenues
available to Olympic organisers prior to the Second World War. While cinema
and radio were helping to create a global following for the Olympics, many of
the world’s growing electronic media systems were public rather than private,
meaning that audiences were not used to sell advertising. Even in cases where
audiences could be readily commodified, media advertising budgets were sup-
pressed by flattened consumer demand during the depression years and later
wartime austerity. The situation changed dramatically in a postwar environ-
ment of soaring economic growth, large-scale state investment, high employ-
ment and rapidly improving incomes. A strong sense of postwar optimism was
a key feature of this environment, spurring a baby boom throughout much
of the industrialised North, and an adjustment in gender relations that saw
female wartime workers returning to the home. These combined circumstances
fuelled consumer demand for homes, appliances, cars, travel, clothing and
leisure goods such as televisions, stereos and sporting equipment. Television
emerged as one of the most significant consumer goods of the era and, in
North America especially, television advertising provided much of the impetus
for unprecedented growth in postwar leisure and entertainment industries.14
Grainy closed circuit television coverage had been an innovative feature of
the 1936 Summer Olympics in Berlin. Television coverage was also present at
the first postwar Summer Olympics in London in 1948, but did not generate
 Rick Gruneau and Robert Neubauer 137

any revenues to apply to the London Games’ modest organising expenses.15

However, the 1948 London Olympics opened the door to the idea that Olympic
television audiences were a commodity that could be sold in the commercial
marketplace. The value of these audiences would become more apparent over
the next decade, especially with the entrance of athletes from the Soviet Union
into the Olympics in the Helsinki Summer Games in 1952. Not only did post-
war Olympic television coverage combine pageantry and excitement with pow-
erful romantic images of universalism and the quest for human excellence, but
the emerging Cold War made the prospect of athletic competition between the
capitalist West and Communist countries particularly rich dramatic fare.
After a US national telethon invoked Cold War rhetoric to raise funds for the
US Olympic team to travel to Helsinki, the US network, NBC, approached the
IOC about acquiring television rights to the Helsinki Olympics. The IOC opted
instead to treat the games as a ‘news event’ and give television and radio net-
works free access.16 Free media access to the Olympics was maintained until the
1956 Melbourne Summer Games, when the IOC negotiated an exclusive film
and video distribution agreement with a London company and offered other
media companies a meagre nine free minutes of coverage per day.17 Television
networks around the world boycotted the Melbourne Games, prompting the
IOC to recognise television rights officially as a form of property in 1958 and
to allow host city Olympic organising committees to negotiate rights fees and
receive the profit. CBS proceeded to offer $50,000 for US rights to the 1960
Squaw Valley Olympics as well as $394,000 for exclusive US broadcasting rights
for taped coverage of the 1960 Rome Summer Games.18 The Rome Olympics
were also broadcast live in 18 European cities through the new Eurovision
satellite link.
Still, it was in the United States where the combination of postwar afflu-
ence, a burgeoning youth culture with a strong affinity for sports, and an
increasingly competitive private broadcasting market created conditions for
the economic value of Olympic television rights to escalate significantly. In the
1950s the US television industry was entering a golden era of profitability based
on continued increases in the value of on-air advertising and the dominance of
two major networks, NBC and CBS. NBC paid an unprecedented $1.5 million
for rights to the 1964 Tokyo Olympics and ABC, the third-place US network
at the time, paid $597,000 for rights to broadcast the 1964 Innsbruck Winter
Olympics.19 The refinement of satellite technology enabled live broadcasts of
the Tokyo Olympics to be shown around the world and revealed television’s
potential both as an international promotional medium and as the core ele-
ment in an expanding high technology communications industry.20 Within
two years of the Tokyo Olympics the IOC introduced a new formula that allo-
cated two thirds of broadcast revenues to local organising committees and one
third to the IOC and National Olympic Associations.
138 A Gold Medal for the Market: The 1984 Los Angeles Olympics

ABC’s foray into Olympic broadcasting with the Innsbruck Games was the
platform for a successful $4.5 million offer for US rights to televise the Mexico
Olympics of 1968.21 Boosted by successful ratings for their Mexico City cover-
age, ABC paid $7.5million for the Munich Summer Olympics four years later.
The Montreal Olympic Organizing Committee elected not to have an open
bidding process for the 1976 Summer Olympics and negotiated exclusively
with ABC for North American rights before settling on a $25 million fee.22
These escalating rights fees created tensions in the 1970s when many IOC
members began to feel that host city organising committees were getting too
large a slice of growing television revenues. But local organising committees
were reluctant to part with media revenues because the costs of hosting the
Olympics were continuing to increase markedly. Indeed, the size and complex-
ity of the Olympics, and of Olympic organisations, grew significantly between
the 1950s and the 1970s, multiplying costs and putting greater demands on the
host city’s facilities and urban infrastructure. For example, there were approxi-
mately 4900 athletes from 69 countries at the 1952 Helsinki Olympics, but by
the 1972 Munich Summer Olympics the size of the Games had grown to 7000
athletes from 122 nations.
The cost of hosting the Olympics also grew because postwar bid cities kept
trying to outdo each other by promising the IOC more and better facilities.
Similarly, coalitions of elite groups in host cities campaigned strongly to use
the Games as an opportunity for major state-sponsored image-boosting exer-
cises and economic development projects. While there was minimal construc-
tion of facilities in the 1948 London Summer Games, for the 1952 Summer
Olympics in Helsinki the Finnish government built highways and railroads
and laid new telephone cable between Finland and Sweden. Eight years later,
Rome spent lavishly on sports facilities, highways and beautification projects
for the 1960 Summer Olympics. Tokyo continued this upward trend by spend-
ing an estimated $2 billion for the 1964 Summer Olympics on administration,
facility construction, transportation and urban infrastructure.23 Expenditures
in the Munich Summer Olympics in 1972 were no less dramatic, with more
than DM1,972 million (more than $600 million) spent on construction of
sports facilities, student dwellings, day-care centres, miles of road improve-
ments and a new subway system.24 Four years later, the total cost of the
Montreal Summer Olympics soared back to an estimated $1.4 billion, while
estimates for the 1980 Summer Olympics in Moscow have been in excess of
$2 billion.25
Like television revenues, commercial sponsorship income also grew from the
1950s through the 1970s, but contributed little to the overall cost of hosting
the Games. One reason for this lay in the continued anti-commercial sensibility
that the IOC maintained through the 1960s under President Avery Brundage.26
It also took several decades for the IOC to move from an amateurish approach
 Rick Gruneau and Robert Neubauer 139

to business practice to a more professional approach with a better awareness

of the value of its own brand. For example, organisers of the 1932 Los Angeles
Summer Olympics were not shy about commercial sponsorship and the
Games featured considerable real estate speculation, tourist promotion and
retail marketing schemes involving local companies.27 To the surprise of the
IOC, one of the Los Angeles Olympic suppliers, Helms Bakeries, legally reg-
istered Olympic trademarks and symbols and held them exclusively before
voluntarily giving them up to the IOC in 1950.28 As a result, between the early
1930s and 1950s, the IOC did not have legal control of its own trademarks.
Soon after regaining control of their trademark rights, the IOC introduced
the first international Olympic marketing program during the Helsinki Summer
Olympics in 1952. In this program ‘eleven companies from eleven countries
[gave] value-in-kind support, such as food for athletes and flowers for medal
winners’.29 Eight years later there were 46 companies who participated in the
1960 Rome Games and by the Tokyo Summer Olympics in 1964 the number
of companies with sponsorship, supply or service agreements had risen to
250.30 While there were no official corporate sponsors at the Munich Summer
Olympics, there were 356 suppliers who supported the Games through value
in kind. In the 1976 Montreal Summer Olympics it is reported that there were
628 sponsors, 114 official suppliers and other companies with official Olympic
service provision licences.31
Olympic organising committees also had access to gate receipts and, in con-
junction with local and national governments, Olympic costs were sometimes
offset by lotteries and by the sale of Olympic coins and stamps. But none of
the growing revenue streams available to Olympic organisers were enough to
keep up with the growing ambitions of bid cities and the increasing scale and
costs of the Games themselves. The expansion of the postwar Olympic Games
was therefore necessarily dependent on large subsidies from various levels of
government. For example, the Mexican National Government contributed
more than $56 million to Mexico City’s $177 million budget, with TV rights
and gate receipts adding an additional $11 million. A substantial part of the
balance had to be made up by the Mexico City government.32 Similarly, despite
impressive lottery revenues, the bulk of the nearly $2 billion in expenditure for
the 1972 Munich Games was paid through a cooperative arrangement that saw
the Federal Republic of Germany contribute 50 per cent of the costs, with the
State of Bavaria and City of Munich covering the balance.33
For the first 25 years after the war the coalitions of business and political
leaders in bid cities who sought the Olympics were able to represent the Games
successfully as an important social and cultural ‘good’ that justified these
high levels of public investment. The Olympics still maintained a mildly anti-
commercial aura as well as an element of pre-war innocence. The Olympics also
resonated well with postwar dreams of a new era of inclusive internationalism
140 A Gold Medal for the Market: The 1984 Los Angeles Olympics

while simultaneously providing opportunities for economic and technological

modernisation for host cities and nations. Host cities were not only interested
in attracting visibility to the city, expanding trade, and tourism, they also
wanted to declare their membership in a fast-moving world of social, cultural
and technological progress. In this sense, state sponsorship of the Olympics
was easily integrated into a quasi-Keynesian policy discourse that legitimised
government expenditures in pursuit of activities that seemed to serve the
public interest. However, by the time of the 1972 Munich Olympics the long
postwar boom was ending and western economies were heading into a deep
and profound crisis that would challenge this conception.

From Munich to Montreal: the Keynesian settlement

breaks apart

Warning signs of an impending financial crisis were evident as early as the

mid-1960s when large companies were making greater investments in organi-
sational innovations and technologies that began to displace workers from
manufacturing and into lower-paid service jobs.34 Also, by the mid-1960s the
Western European and Japanese recoveries from the war years were complete,
leading to increased competition in international export markets, product sur-
pluses and downward pressures on the prices of manufactured goods.35 In the
United States the threats of decreasingly stable employment and a slackening
of demand were offset by heavy state expenditures, and by the war in Vietnam,
but declining corporate productivity and profitability indicated a growing fis-
cal malaise.36
In this environment the postwar dominance of the United States in inter-
national financial markets was challenged, leading to the devaluation of the
dollar and the introduction of floating exchange rates in international com-
modity markets instead of ‘the fixed exchange rates of the postwar boom’.37
At the same time, new import-substitution policies in Third World countries,
coupled with low wages and minimal regulation, were beginning to attract
greater numbers of North American and European-based multinational cor-
porations into offshore manufacturing.38 When companies within the large
manufacturing economies that had led the postwar boom tried to adjust to
these new conditions, for example, by opening branch plants abroad, laying
off workers, or contracting out work that was formerly done in-house, they
were met by strikes and labour disruptions led by strong labour movements.39
At the very moment that manufacturing profits were eroding, new develop-
ments in robotics, communications and digital information technologies
promised flexibility in production and new competitive advantages, but
required burdensome levels of investment in technological development and
industrial reorganisation.
 Rick Gruneau and Robert Neubauer 141

David Harvey argues that it was only the loose monetary policies of countries
such as the US and Britain that maintained the ‘momentum of the postwar
boom’ into the 1970s. Yet, ‘printing money at whatever rate appeared neces-
sary to keep the economy stable’ created strong inflationary pressure at the very
moment that the prices of manufactured goods were destabilised and falling.40
At the same time, in a period where tax revenues were also falling, governments
were incurring record levels of public debt in a desperate attempt to maintain
social services and meet the expectations of an electorate that had grown accus-
tomed to more than two decades of near full employment and strong welfare
state service provision. In response, many governments began to experiment
with tighter monetary policies to control inflation, but this had the effect of
triggering ‘a world wide crash in property markets and severe difficulties for
financial institutions’ as interest rates rose and people defaulted on mortgages.41
The OPEC cartel’s ill-timed decision to raise oil prices and restrict imports to the
West fuelled the inflationary fires, inducing a deep recession in 1973 that swept
around the industrialised world. By the mid-1970s many industrial economies
were gripped in an unprecedented ‘stagflationary’ spiral of high inflation and
low growth that was proving resistant to all conventional measures.42
If the 1972 Munich Summer Olympics were held in the early stages of this
growing economic storm, the 1976 Montreal Olympics were held at a time
when national economies around the world were feeling its full force. The
initial idea for the Montreal Olympics was to hold a modest, self-financing
Games, with a budget of approximately $120 million. However, considering
the much larger amounts spent in Tokyo, Mexico City and Munich, and the
upward trend in expenditures over the previous 20 years, the initial Montreal
budget was never realistic. In a time of growing inflation, construction costs
alone escalated wildly at the same time that a climate of labour unrest slowed
the completion of projects and forced a last-minute push that involved exces-
sive overtime fees.
Critics have argued that the Montreal Olympics were also prey to financial
mismanagement, corruption and the grandiose ambitions of Montreal mayor
Jean Drapeau, who dreamed of an Olympics that would be a showcase for
innovative international architecture that would place the city on the world
stage.43 Montreal also used the Olympics as an opportunity to spend hundreds
of millions of dollars upgrading their subway system in order to extend it
to the east end of the city. While the Games generated revenues in excess of
$400 million, when subtracted from the total expenditures, the city of Montreal
was left with a staggering deficit of nearly a billion dollars.44 Over the course of
the next decade, soaring interest rates added millions to the cost of servicing this
debt for Montreal taxpayers. To make matters worse, more than $460 million
has since been spent on repairs to an Olympic Stadium that has never been able
to maintain a major professional sports team as a permanent tenant.45
142 A Gold Medal for the Market: The 1984 Los Angeles Olympics

Bruce Kidd suggests that political tensions in the 1970s, generated by

Quebec’s strong sovereignty aspirations, matched with the Canadian federal
state’s concerns about showing the province excessive favouritism, were sig-
nificant factors in the decision not to provide federal subsidies for the 1976
Montreal Olympics in a manner similar to the cooperative state investments
that were made in Mexico City and in Munich. Montreal had received gener-
ous federal grants for the 1967 World’s Fair (Expo 67), and, in the tense political
environment of the time, the ruling Liberal party were patently aware of the
fallout that might ensue from the appearance of political favouritism, espe-
cially in a time of recession. The size of Montreal’s debt, and the perception
of the 1976 Olympics as a financial failure, can be partially explained by the
unique character of Canadian federal–provincial relations in the mid-1970s.46
However, this largely political and cultural argument only tells part of the
story. The issues that constrained federal funding to the Montreal Olympics were
anchored in an international economic crisis that extended far beyond Canada’s
internal federal–provincial tensions. Governments across North America were
reeling from debt and inflation in the mid-1970s and, in addition to tightening
monetary policies, both federal and regional governments were beginning to
undertake a policy of offloading debt to lower levels of government. Cities across
North America were hit particularly hard by this development and, indeed, the
city government of New York effectively went bankrupt in 1975, until a last-
minute bailout and debt restructuring plan.47 Canada was beginning to move in
a similar direction and a large public subsidy to the city of Montreal would have
run against the political tide. Furthermore, in 1975 the federal government had
launched a controversial program of wage and price controls in an effort to fight
inflation. Diverting public funds to the Olympics was simply politically and
ideologically unjustifiable in this tightened regulatory environment.48

From Montreal to Los Angeles: The Olympics, neoliberalism

and ‘Reaganomics’

Mobilised by the economic crisis of the mid-1970s, business interests around

the global north began to push for an escape from the rigidities of the post-
war Keynesian settlement. These rigidities were seen to lie in older large-scale,
fixed-capital manufacturing that precluded adaptation to changing labour
markets; ‘excessive’ government taxes and regulations; heavy state commit-
ments for social services; and the deeply entrenched power of trade unions.49
In response, business interests wanted greater flexibility in the production and
accumulation process to cut costs and accommodate innovation. There was
also a growing clamour for governments to re-orient the use of public invest-
ments away from social services and toward activities that would promote
entrepreneurialism, wealth and economic growth.
 Rick Gruneau and Robert Neubauer 143

In pursuing these objectives self-styled economic ‘conservatives’ found

inspiration in the philosophy of neoliberalism, which had emerged largely
from the Mont Pelerine Society, an association of free-market intellectuals
founded in 1947 and organised around libertarian philosopher Friedrich Hayek.
Blurring the boundaries between neoclassical economics, libertarian ethics and
metaphysics, Hayek argued that statist intervention had materially and spir-
itually undermined Western civilisation, necessitating a free market revival.50
At the heart of Hayek’s philosophy was the proposition that ‘the social good
will be maximised by maximising the reach and frequency of market transac-
tions’51 and the liberation of ‘individual entrepreneurial freedoms . . . within
an institutional framework characterised by strong private property rights,
free markets, and free trade’.52 In this view, the only justifiable purpose of
state intervention in the market is through policies that are designed to facili-
tate capital accumulation. State interventions which impede accumulation
are rejected as ‘distortions’ which undermine the ability of market forces to
improve living standards for all members of society through ‘trickle down’
economic growth.53
In the tradition of Hayek, the most ideologically committed neoliberals
of the 1970s advocated the wholesale dismantling of the Keynesian state as
a mode of political-economic regulation,54 replacing it with an alternative
framework that privileged capital at the expense of organised labour and other
social solidarities that sought to regulate capital.55 Economic sectors formerly
run or regulated by governments were to be privatised and deregulated, while
‘public–private partnerships’ were proposed in place of traditional arenas
of state activity. Attendant to this, neoliberals argued that individuals were
responsible for their own well-being, with personal outcomes expressed in
terms of individual attributes rather than the effect of systemic inequalities.56
The neoliberal discourse on ‘reform’ therefore took on an air of individualised
moral absolutism in its attack the welfare state, along with other so-called
collectivist ‘distortions’ of postwar life such as trade unions, social security,
education, health care and pensions. Finally, neoliberalisation was envisioned
as a global process, contingent on the establishment of a deregulated market
system to facilitate the global mobility of capital across regions and nations.57
By the 1970s, these ideas had evolved into a set of distinctive political-
economic theories, prominent among them Milton Friedman’s neoclassical
monetarism and the supply-side economics of Arthur Laffer.58 Friedman argued
that runaway inflation had to be suppressed through a ‘stable money supply
and limited government intervention’, regardless of any effects on employ-
ment.59 Meanwhile, supply-siders argued that high tax rates and regulation had
undermined the incentive for private-sector investment. The prescription was
deep tax cuts and massive deregulation to boost work, savings and investment.60
Whereas neoliberals had been on the margins of academic and policy influence
144 A Gold Medal for the Market: The 1984 Los Angeles Olympics

during the early postwar decades, they quickly moved to centre stage during the
crisis of the 1970s as the corporate community abandoned the Keynesian order
they had grudgingly supported.61 Business leveraged their collective resources,
setting up centralised lobbying groups to direct hundreds of millions of dollars
a year towards political advocacy, public relations campaigns and the expan-
sion of free-market think tanks. Neoliberals soon gained global intellectual
influence, with Friedman and Hayek winning the Nobel Prize in Economics in
1974 and 1976, respectively. By the end of the 1970s neoliberalism’s ‘powerful
ideological influence’ was circulating widely ‘through the corporations, the
media, and the numerous institutions that constitute civil society’.62
Nonetheless, the advent of neoliberal government policies in the 1970s was
initially uneven and often contradictory. In Canada, for example, the federal
Liberal party reluctantly embraced the idea of tightening control of the money
supply through higher interest rates but actually increased state regulation of
the economy and maintained hefty state investments in health care, education
and culture. The introduction of wage and price controls in the year before the
Montreal Olympics resembled a final Keynesian gasp more than a breathless
swing to neoliberalism. Similarly, while the Carter administration Democrats in
the late 1970s remained committed to a Keynesian vision, they adopted some
of Laffer’s ideas about tax reduction, introducing the first major national tax
cut since the Kennedy administration.63 It was not until Margaret Thatcher’s
electoral victory in Britain in 1979, followed the next year by Ronald Reagan’s
election to the US presidency, that neoliberal ideas and initiatives began
to enter the mainstream of international political and economic policy in
prominent northern nations.
Ronald Reagan’s transition to neoliberalism had its roots in a life-long com-
mitment to the values of self-help and individualism that was mediated by
strong religious convictions. Although he initially supported the Democrats,
Reagan became a militant anti-communist after the war, and was later
influenced by the ideas of prominent neoliberal political economists.64 As
President in 1980 he assembled a team of advisers who quickly orchestrated an
all-out attempt to restructure the US economy along neoliberal lines.65 The
project began with a hard-line monetary policy that pushed interest rates to
unprecedented heights in an effort to eliminate inflation. The nominal rate
of interest had grown across the northern nations, from near zero in the late
1960s into double digits by the late 1970s. However, as a result of Reagan’s even
more aggressive monetarist agenda, nominal interest rates reached 20 per cent
in 1981, successfully lowering inflation, but sending the economy into deeper
recession.66
The Reagan administration also slashed income tax rates by 25 per cent over
three years,67 and gave corporations generous write-offs, tax credits and rate
cuts which helped to subsidise capital’s flight from highly unionised areas to
 Rick Gruneau and Robert Neubauer 145

low-unionised, low-tax regions, both domestic and international.68 This led to

a crippling loss of federal government revenue which in turn legitimised deep
cuts to many social welfare initiatives between 1980 and 1984, including
income assistance, food stamps, Medicaid, social security, unemployment
benefits and public housing.69 Along similar lines, Reagan’s agenda included
a sweeping deregulation of airlines, trucking, oil, telecommunications and
banking, as well as severe reductions in the budgets of federal regulatory agen-
cies and the appointment of pro-business personnel to top positions.70
The Reagan administration also initiated labour policy allowing businesses to
relocate operations without breach of contracts, further aiding capital’s flight
from unionised regions.71 Other anti-labour restructuring initiatives included
the implementation of ‘flexible’ labour systems in government agencies
and the freezing of the minimum wage.72 The deregulatory ethos was extended
into the international arena through the vigorous promotion of regional free-
trade initiatives and the beginnings of negotiations that would give birth to the
neoliberal World Trade Organisation.73 To extend this deregulatory ethos the
Reagan administration worked to purge Keynesian economists from the IMF
and the World Bank, replacing them with radical neoliberals who used the
debt crises provoked by the administration’s own interest rate hike to impose
neoliberal structural adjustment on country after country.74
By 1981 Reagan’s severe anti-inflationary measures had pushed the US
economy into the worst recession since the 1930s. At the same time, deep tax
cuts, along with increased military spending, induced stratospheric federal
deficits, despite the administration’s aggressive budget cuts to social services
and related government agencies.75 These were paradoxical circumstances for
an administration elected on a budget cutting, pro-growth platform and many
viewed the administration’s policies as colossal mismanagement. Yet, while
damning in the eyes of many, the Reagan administration’s self-imposed reces-
sion and fiscal crisis were essential to consolidating a longer-range neoliberal
project. Economic deregulation, divestment from the Keynesian state, shred-
ding of the social wage, multiple assaults on labour, lowered taxes, and the
facilitation of capital flight all played key roles in restructuring the US economy
along radical free-market lines. With over ten million unemployed in 1982,
it became ‘impossible for organized labour to maintain wage standards’ and
average weekly wages fell by 8 per cent between 1979 and 1982, ensuring that
whatever growth occurred in the economy during the rest of the Reagan revolu-
tion fell primarily on the profits side of the capital-labour ledger.76 A 1984 Wall
Street Journal survey of US corporate executives concluded that the ‘recession
had been a good thing for the country’, bringing about ‘the control of inflation
and the imbuing of workers and management with a more realistic sense’.77
Still, by 1982, Reagan’s approval ratings had fallen to 35 per cent, while
House Republicans lost 26 seats in the midterm elections,78 leading to increased
146 A Gold Medal for the Market: The 1984 Los Angeles Olympics

public and congressional opposition for the remainder of his first term.79 The
Republicans took considerable solace from improvements in economic indica-
tors by 1983.80 However, evidence suggests that a substantial part of economic
growth in the early 1980s was ‘due to aggregate demand catching up with
potential GNP after a serious recession’.81 Even more damning, rising household
income was largely attributable to an increase in two-income families, while
growth in consumption was driven by rising levels of household indebtedness.82
In this context, building and maintaining consent for Reaganomics clearly
required systematic and ongoing public relations initiatives. As it turned out, for
a Republican government under siege and facing re-election in the fall of 1984,
the Los Angeles Olympics could not have occurred at a better time.
The selection of Los Angeles as the site for the 1984 Summer Olympics had
itself been strongly influenced by the challenging political and economic
dynamics of the 1970s. The attacks by Palestinian terrorists, and resulting
deaths of Israeli athletes, at the 1972 Munich Olympics destroyed much of the
Games’ earlier innocence and added high security costs to escalating Olympic
budgets. The 1970s also witnessed several Olympic boycotts and there was a
growing feeling that the Olympics were simply too large and too expensive to
host in difficult economic times. For example, the IOC initially chose Denver
as the site for the 1976 Winter Olympics but, worried about environmental and
cost issues, Denver’s citizens voted in a 1972 public referendum to reject the
Games. Montreal’s economically disastrous experiences in the 1976 Summer
Games appeared to vindicate the Denver referendum decision and in the
uncertain economic climate of the time there were only two official applicants
for the 1984 Summer Olympics, Los Angeles and Tehran. The Los Angeles bid
was backed by a pro-growth group of downtown business leaders, real estate
developers and other civic notables who had been lobbying for many years to
bring the Olympics back to Los Angeles. In the economic climate of the time,
local Olympic promoters also saw the 1984 Summer Games as way to reaf-
firm the city’s attractions on the world stage and to create economic growth
through increased tourism and convention business.83 Tehran eventually with-
drew its bid and, after considerable negotiation with the IOC, the Los Angeles
bid committee’s proposal to hold the Games was accepted in 1978.
However, the fear of increased public debt in California in the mid to late
1970s was extremely high. During his eight years as Governor of California,
from 1967 to 1975, Ronald Reagan had cut social expenditures, and frozen
public sector hiring, but found he had to raise taxes to meet state financial
commitments, despite his own campaign promises and a growing anti-tax
movement across the state.84 After Reagan left office a referendum in 1978
effectively capped the state’s ability to raise property taxes and therefore to
raise revenues. In a climate of budgetary cutbacks, and with new limitations
on state revenues, the government of California was unwilling to commit any
 Rick Gruneau and Robert Neubauer 147

funds to the Los Angeles Olympics.85 The LA city government took a similar
view and in a 1978 referendum the city’s residents voted overwhelmingly to
raise taxes on tickets to entertainment events and not to allow the city to incur
deficits related to the Games. There was no possibility of lottery revenues to
pay expenses because lotteries were illegal in California and there was virtually
no prospect of federal funds outside of the provision of security.86
So the Los Angeles Olympic organisers were literally forced to turn fully to
the private sector, not so much due to any conscious ideological embrace of
neoliberalism but rather as a pragmatic response to the conditions of the time.
As the only bidder for the 1984 Summer Olympics the Los Angeles organis-
ers had such a strong bargaining position that they were able to negotiate
unprecedented concessions from the IOC, including control over all aspects of
Olympic planning and the right to keep all media and sponsorship revenues.
In addition, LA Olympic organisers were able to negotiate a unique end run
around the IOC’s Charter provision that host cities be liable for costs incurred
during an Olympic Games. After lengthy deliberations the IOC reluctantly
allowed Los Angeles organisers to create a private, non-profit corporation that
would share joint responsibility with the United States Olympic Committee for
financing, and for any potential debt.87 Olympic organisers then contracted
to guarantee no financial liability for the city of Los Angeles and they hired
a prominent local businessman, Peter Ueberroth, as the Chairman of the Los
Angeles Olympic Organizing Committee. Ueberroth immediately set out to
design a ‘private Olympics without government subsidies’ with a modest
budget of $500 million.88
The absence of public sector guarantees allowed Ueberroth to cry poor and
ask for sacrifices and favours from venue communities as well as to rally a veri-
table army of volunteers to augment the work of paid staff. At the same time the
LAOOC’s virtual monopoly position allowed Ueberroth to drive hard bargains
in negotiations around Olympic service provision. Under Ueberroth’s guid-
ance the LAOOC devised a plan to restrict the number of corporate sponsors
to 30, but to ask them for minimum contributions of $4 million in exchange
for exclusivity. Similarly, the LAOOC offered exclusive licences to 43 compa-
nies to sell ‘official’ merchandise embossed with the Olympic logo and they
brokered similar sponsorship arrangements between various corporations and
other National Olympic Committees.89 Thinking ahead, the LAOOC also con-
ducted market research on television advertising and estimated that Olympic
telecasts would bring in excess of $300 million. Based on this research, LA
Olympic organisers asked for a minimum bid of $200 million and were able to
use network competition to drive the price to $225 million, plus an additional
$75 million in fees for providing facilities for other countries’ broadcasters.90
Finally, the LAOOC’s unassailable organisational status allowed the com-
mittee to make decisions without the need to build political consensus,
148 A Gold Medal for the Market: The 1984 Los Angeles Olympics

despite resistance from within some of the venue communities, about facility
placement.91 Furthermore, against opposition from some members of the IOC,
Ueberroth took the position that virtually everything at the Games was avail-
able for sponsorship or naming rights, including facilities, services and even
the various stages of the Olympic torch relay. To give just a few key examples:
Atlantic Richfield helped pay to refurbish the Los Angeles Coliseum; Southland
Corporation built the new Olympic Velodrome; McDonald’s built the Olympic
pool; Ford supplied official Olympic vehicles and Coca-Cola paid to maintain
its longstanding role as the official Olympic drink supplier. With the IOC on
the financial sidelines, construction and other costs at a minimum, or paid for
by sponsoring corporations, and with security costs covered by governments,
the LAOOC was well positioned to meet its budget targets.
From the standpoints of organisational efficiency, athletic competition and
financial management the Los Angeles Games proved to be a huge success.
Following so closely on the economic hardship of the early 1980s, the Games
were enveloped by an aura of unmistakable optimism, mixed with a powerful
sense of pride in Yankee ingenuity, as well as in organisational and athletic
excellence. One indicator of this was the LA Games’ outstanding television rat-
ings, despite an Eastern European boycott that watered down the level of com-
petition. If anything the boycott arguably made the Games more compelling
for US audiences because the absence of Soviet and Eastern European athletes
led to a record medal haul for the US team. When the bills were tallied after
the Games the LAOOC announced a balance of revenues over expenses – an
Olympic ‘profit’– in excess of $220 million,92 although the figure is somewhat
misleading because costs for additional security borne by city, state and federal
governments were never included in the LAOOC budget93 Still, in the wake of
the Montreal experience, LA’s Olympic profits were heralded broadly as a stun-
ning achievement.

The 1984 Los Angeles Olympics as common-sense neoliberalism

Peter Ueberroth claimed to be cautious about drawing political messages from

the LA Games and noted on many occasions that ‘we are not interested in
being labelled the private enterprise games’.94 Still, for free-market-loving
Republicans the temptation to draw political analogies from the 1984 LA
Games was irresistible, especially in an election year. Indeed, as Iwan Morgan
explains, Reagan ‘defined the [1984] election as a choice between growth
based on the fundamental values of individual freedom represented by his
personal income tax cuts and stagnation resulting from [his opponent Walter]
Mondale’s statist agenda of tax increases’.95 The successes of an Olympic Games
run as a form of private enterprise dramatised the available political choices in
a populist and highly accessible manner.
 Rick Gruneau and Robert Neubauer 149

Olympic imagery was mapped onto neoliberal discourse at an even more

basic level by drawing analogies between champion athletes ‘who had to work
hard, with discipline and desire’ and the spirit of American entrepreneurship.96
Campaigning for the 1984 election, Reagan argued that his policies would
unleash latent entrepreneurial energies and allow American businesses to ‘go
for the gold’. In a post-Olympics radio address to the nation on August 18,
1984, Reagan expressed pride in having ‘watched a grateful nation shower its
affection’ on Olympic athletes like the ‘famous gymnast, Mary Lou Retton’,
whose accomplishments embodied ‘the dream of America’. According to
Reagan, Retton (who later became a prominent Republican) symbolised the
American people who had shown that ‘when they have the courage and
opportunity to work hard . . . they not only perform great feats, they help
pull all of us forward as well’. He went on to suggest: ‘Somehow, this idea was
ignored during the 1970s’ as ‘the intellectual establishment . . . demand[ed]
more power for government, more bureaucracy, regulation, spending and – oh,
yes – more and more taxes.’ In the process, ‘they forgot all about the secret of
America’s success – opportunity for people’.
However, Reagan argued, this ‘secret’ had been recaptured by his adminis-
tration in its first term in office, which by ‘cut[ting] tax rates significantly for
every working American’ had shown people that ‘America’s destiny [was] back
in [their] hands’. This destiny was based on the fundamental premise that
‘if you work harder . . . than before, your reward will be greater than it was’.
There is a thinly veiled analogy here to Reagan’s belief in neoliberal policies
which had created ‘necessary sacrifice’ in order to usher in economic recov-
ery and ‘a new spirit of optimism and confidence about America’s future’.
The upcoming election therefore presented ‘an historic choice. Will we heed
the pessimists’ agenda of higher taxes, more bureaucracy, and a bigger welfare
state leading us right back to runaway inflation and economic decay, or will
we continue on our new road toward a true opportunity society of economic
growth, more jobs, lower tax rates, and rising take-home pay? I believe the
spirit we’ve seen during and after these Olympics reveals that it will surely be
the latter’.97
Reagan repeated this message over and over again on the campaign trail. At a
rally in New Jersey in October 1984, he proudly declared that ‘America is back’.
The economic recovery, directly attributed to Republican policies of lower
taxes, deregulation and lowered government spending, proved that ‘like our
Olympic athletes, this nation should set its sights on the stars and go for the
gold’. However, doing this required a continuing commitment to ‘bring[ing]
down inflation’ through tight monetary policy, ‘lowering . . . tax rates’ and
developing ‘enterprise zones’ of non-unionised, low-tax regions. Through free
competition in a deregulated economy, American workers, like their athletes,
could ‘outcompete . . . anyone, anyplace in the world’.98
150 A Gold Medal for the Market: The 1984 Los Angeles Olympics

Reagan made similar remarks during a rally at a Westinghouse Furniture

Systems factory in Grand Rapids, Michigan, a region experiencing rapid capital
flight in large measure due to four previous years of neoliberal policies. Yet,
Reagan declared that his administration had ‘started America on a totally new
course’, exemplified by tax cuts, reductions in federal spending and elimination
of ‘counterproductive regulations’. As a result, he claimed that America now
found itself in the ‘the midst of the most vibrant and vital economic expan-
sion in 40 years’. The success of neoliberal reform had proven that ‘America
should shoot for the stars . . . [and] strive for the best’ just ‘like our Olympic
athletes’. Though this particular Westinghouse plant had been hurt by the
recession, it was now turning a profit thanks to ‘a new level of cooperation and
good will . . . between management and labour’. According to Reagan, ‘the last
thing’ these factory workers needed now was ‘bureaucrats or Federal officials
coming [there] to tell [them] how to run [their] business’. Reagan also claimed
that the wealth created by Westinghouse would ‘accrue all the way through
the system and eventually be enjoyed in one way or another by everyone’. The
proof of this? Westinghouse had been ‘an official sponsor of the Olympics’,
helping to show ‘the world what America is all about’.99
At another rally in September, Reagan pinned the economic crisis of the
1970s on the statist policies of his predecessors. Meanwhile, he claimed his
neoliberal reforms had led to a stunning recovery exemplified by strong eco-
nomic growth, low inflation, job creation, and increases in after-tax personal
income. At the heart of his success was the fact that ‘for the first time’ in dec-
ades, ‘the flow of earnings and power from the people to the Government is
not increasing’ but ‘going the other way’. To further this trend, Reagan prom-
ised he would bring ‘everyone’s tax rates further down’ in his second term. To
justify this, he suggested ‘taking our cue from our Olympic athletes. Rather
than discourage risk taking and punish success, rather than raise taxes, let’s go
for growth, and let’s go for the gold’.100
In other instances, Reagan repeatedly drew upon the 1984 Games themselves
as an example of the private sector successfully assuming the responsibilities of
the state. In remarks to American medal winners shortly after the Games, he
claimed that the Olympics had ‘proved that the profits reaped from a free econ-
omy can be used to help our young people compete on an even footing with
the state-subsidized athletes of other countries.’101 Reagan made similar argu-
ments even before the Games started. For example, in a speech to the LAOOC in
1983, Reagan pointed out that ‘unlike some other countries, American athletes
do not receive government grants or Federal tax dollars’. He then launched
into an indictment of the past three decades, during which big government
reigned supreme, in his view, and the country began ‘to lose . . . that wonderful
do-it-yourself thing that that has always characterized the American people’.
‘Next year’s Games,’ he went on, ‘will show the world what Americans without
 Rick Gruneau and Robert Neubauer 151

government subsidy can accomplish’, noting that the Games were only possible
due to the private sector’s good ‘corporate citizenship’.102
For Reagan the Los Angeles Games were a model of the private–public part-
nerships that his government had long promoted. The success of the LAOOC
demonstrated the value of shifting traditional government functions like
health and education to the private and voluntary sectors. After all, if priva-
tisation can work for the Olympics, it can surely work in these other areas as
well. Reagan integrated these ideas into a related discourse on private-sector
efficiency and voluntarism. Neoliberalism, after all, stresses self-reliance: those
things which government no longer provides must be achieved through pri-
vate initiative or done without. This makes the volunteer efforts of private
industry, individual volunteers and the non-profit sector – all of which must
compensate for the welfare state’s demise – a critical component of a ‘new’
social order. Ueberroth’s legion of unpaid volunteers represented a neoliberal
vision of the future.
Consider, in this regard, remarks that Reagan made in 1982 at a White House
ceremony announcing federal support for the National Health Fair Partnership,
a private-sector voluntary initiative which sought ‘to offer free preventive
and health promotion services at no cost to the taxpayer’. Speaking to news
media, corporate representatives, and staff from non-profit-making organisa-
tions, Reagan described this program as a ‘trail blazing new private sector
initiative’. By encouraging private citizens and corporations to take on roles
once performed by government, Americans would be ‘encouraged to use their
own initiative . . . [to] accomplish great things’. The ‘proof of this’ would come
in 1984, when the ‘the first Olympic games . . . put on totally by the private
sector’ would serve as a stunning tribute to ‘our American spirit’.103
Similar statements were made at a December 1984 ceremony marking the
beginning of the ‘President’s Citation Program for Private Sector Initiatives’,
a program that gave awards to corporations whose initiatives shifted responsi-
bility for social welfare programs away from big government. Reagan claimed
that in recent years, ‘too many began expecting big government to perform
tasks that could have been done more efficiently . . . by the private sector’. He
was therefore determined to ‘shift the focus away from the slow-moving
labours of the bureaucrats back to the caring and efficient efforts of the people
themselves’ through the ‘formation of partnerships between the public and
private sectors’. He lamented that discussions of voluntarism often ‘concen-
trate on the efforts of individuals’, when ‘business show[s] just as much . . .
commitment’ by ‘donating millions of dollars and thousands of hours’ to their
communities every year. For instance, the supermarket chain Safeway had
helped organise campaigns for the Easter Seals (a non-profit-making health
agency dealing with children and adults with disabilities), a perfect example of
how anti-poverty initiatives could be turned over to the private and voluntary
152 A Gold Medal for the Market: The 1984 Los Angeles Olympics

sectors (especially after Reagan’s devastating budget cuts). From now on then,
the President would give special citations to corporate leaders who contributed
to such initiatives. To launch the program, he gave the first citation to ‘Peter
Ueberroth for his leadership in the Olympics, a private sector initiative of
unparalleled success’.104
Much of the tenor of Ronald Reagan’s many references to the 1984 Los
Angeles Olympics resonated strongly with coverage of the ‘capitalist Olympics’
in the mainstream US press.105 One New York Times article from December 1982
described the upcoming Games as `an event that might have bewildered the
Olympians of ancient Greece: an Olympiad produced by private enterprise.`106
Another article in July of the following year declared approvingly that these
would be ‘the first Olympics staged by private enterprise, not by government’.
No small feat then that preparations were ‘on budget and ahead of schedule’.107
This sentiment was repeated in another article during the Games, in which it
was claimed that although the Games were ‘only half over’, it was already clear
that ‘private enterprise has succeeded in pulling off what only government has
done before’.108
After the LAOOC announced that the 1984 Games had made a profit the
Washington Post joined the ubiquitous post-Games media chorus by celebrating
the ‘unprecedented’ windfall from the corporate-run Games and the legacy it
would leave. According to Ueberroth, the Olympic windfall meant that ‘there is
going to be a funding like athletics in this country has never seen’.109 Olympic
profits were contrasted with the debt and waste of prior so-called ‘statist’
events. A 1983 article in the New York Times explained that the leveraging of
private funds was allowing the Olympics to proceed ‘without the big deficits
that have characterized the Games in recent years’.110 The paper reiterated this
point in a post-Games article, declaring that the private model ‘has demon-
strated that cities elsewhere can arrest the soaring costs of being host to the
Olympics’.111 Montreal was specifically targeted in this regard, its massive cost
overruns an example of failed Keynesianism and the antithesis of Los Angeles’
shining triumph.112 The Washington Post similarly noted that in contrast to
LA, ‘the taxpayer-borne . . . Montreal [Games] created a . . . deficit that . . .
citizens will be paying into the next century’.113 Furthermore, the New York
Times claimed that the 1984 Games’ ‘$472 million budget’ represented a mere
‘15 percent of the expenditures at the Moscow Games and about 15 percent
at Montreal.’114 Not only were the neoliberal Games more profitable than
their ‘statist’ counterparts, but they also kept costs down whereas, by contrast,
government programs racked up huge expenditures.
Commonsense neoliberalism was also widely evident in the US press’s typi-
cally fawning portrayals of LAOOC President, Peter Ueberroth. Press accounts
often converted Ueberroth’s life story into a narrative that wove together key
neoliberal frames: the superiority of the private sector; achievement in a free
 Rick Gruneau and Robert Neubauer 153

economy through hard work and regardless of personal circumstance; and the
disavowal of charity or indeed any form of collective social welfare. As the
Washington Post put it: ‘the most flawless Olympiad in modern times’ was run
not by a government bureaucrat but a corporate CEO whose rags-to-riches story
exemplified the creeping conflation of American and neoliberal dreams. The
humble ‘son of a travelling salesman’, Ueberroth was a ‘self-made millionaire
by the time he was 28’.115 The New York Times drew parallels between the way
he ‘spent 17 years building a multimillion-dollar business from scratch and five
years creating a $500 million Olympic effort from nothing.’116 As Ueberroth
himself declared, the great thing about being American was the ‘spirit of
can-do, can-work, can-accomplish – you can do things without being on the
Government dole’.117 A New York Times article elaborated on the attributes
Ueberroth brought from the corporate world which helped him turn the
Olympic Games around: he had a ‘highly developed sense of organization, [an]
ability to delegate responsibility and the creativity’ to find innovative private-
sector solutions.118 He also worked around the clock and even ‘had the will
to fire . . . close friends’ when they ‘didn’t measure up to the responsibilities’.
Explaining these harsh measures, Ueberroth was quoted as saying: ‘we don’t
have time to take people and retrain them and reprogram them and give them
a second chance.’ Ronald Reagan couldn’t have put it better himself: there is no
room for job security in the neoliberal world of flexible accumulation.

Conclusions

It is impossible to know how influential the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics

were in Reagan’s landslide reelection to the US Presidency in 1984. However,
there is little doubt that the Los Angeles Games created unique opportunities
to advance both the critique of the Keynesian welfare state, and the remedial
philosophies of neoliberalism and Reaganomics, in US popular culture. Reagan
was able to use the Los Angeles Olympics to promote a vision of ‘popular
capitalism’ which invited people to consider themselves individually as inves-
tors in social life and where the values of free entrepreneurialism and wealth
creation were celebrated over older so-called ‘collectivist’ forms of solidarity
and identity, such as trade unions, the state, and even the notion of a uni-
fied ‘public interest’.119 Because the welfare state involved the planned use
of scientific and other forms of expertise to meet the challenges of postwar
social and technological modernisation the Reagan-era Republicans adopted
a self-consciously populist tone, attacking educated ‘elites’ of bureaucrats and
technocrats, suggesting that these groups would inevitably work to advance
their own interests over those of ‘everyday’ people.
There is a measure of truth to the notion that large-scale state investments
in the Olympic Games made after the war, especially in Rome, Tokyo and
154 A Gold Medal for the Market: The 1984 Los Angeles Olympics

Munich, did in fact reflect a quasi-Keynesian approach to the use of sport to

meet postwar social planning objectives. However, by contrast, and contrary to
neoliberal characterisations, the Montreal Olympics were actually a departure
from this approach. The economic crisis of the time, mixed with Canada’s
unique federal–provincial tensions, undercut the possibility of substantial
federal or provincial investments, or of partnerships with state agencies, that
might have reined in Jean Drapeau’s ambitions and provided greater control
of costs. Due to inflation and labour unrest it is arguable whether construc-
tion costs in Montreal could have been better controlled, but the size of the
debt passed on to taxpayers in the city would have been negligible with state
financial support comparable to that given in Munich, or even in Mexico City.
This is not to say, of course, that making a large public-sector investment in the
Olympics was a good use of Canadians’ tax dollars in the mid-1970s, only that
popular representations of the Montreal Olympics as a failed ‘state-produced’
Games are misleading.
It is also worth noting that the cost of servicing Montreal’s billion dollar
debt after the 1976 Summer Games was exacerbated by the high-interest-rate
policies pursued in the United States by the Reagan administration. Insofar as
international lending rates reflected these policies, Reaganomics must shoulder
some responsibility for the crippling cost of the 1976 Olympics for Montreal’s
taxpayers. This is ironic given the tendency in neoliberal discourse to contrast
the ‘failure’ of Montreal with the ‘success’ of Los Angeles, with Montreal
serving as an ideological metaphor for the postwar welfare state in general
and Los Angeles serving as a testament to popular capitalism and common-
sense neoliberalism. Even the most superficial historical analysis reveals this
unflattering comparison to be a caricature that effectively ignores the unique
conjuncture of broad political and economic forces and local issues that
shaped each of these Olympic Games. Yet, this comparison between Montreal’s
Olympic shortcomings, versus the virtues of the privatised approach adopted
in Los Angeles, has been made so often since the 1980s that is has effectively
become an item of conventional wisdom. As a moral fable of welfare-state fail-
ure versus private-sector success, this caricatured Olympic comparison has an
intensely ideological character.
Since the late 1980s the Olympic Games have flourished in the atmosphere
of neoliberal globalisation that swept the world. Most notably, the IOC’s
financial wealth and power have grown markedly.120 By the late 1970s many
IOC members were becoming more aware of the value of increased sponsor-
ship money to the Olympic movement and there was considerable reluctance
to make concessions to the LAOOC over control of revenues during the Los
Angeles Games. However, the IOC learned important lessons about the value
of the Olympic brand from Peter Ueberroth, especially about the importance
of guaranteed exclusivity for sponsors. After the LA Games the IOC took
 Rick Gruneau and Robert Neubauer 155

back control of all sponsorship and media revenues, initiated an interna-

tional Olympic sponsorship program, and developed more modest revenue-
sharing provisions for local Olympic organising committees. The commercial
model pioneered in Los Angeles prompted a revival of interest in hosting
the Olympics from cities around the world, but no local Olympic organising
committee has since had the monopolistic control over revenue production
enjoyed by the LAOOC. Since 1984, the IOC has been the overwhelming ben-
eficiary of Olympic commercialism, reaping windfall profits from sponsorship
and media revenues over the past two decades while allowing local organising
committees to bear all the financial risks.
This is one reason why it is important to understand the LA Games neither
as a harbinger of the future, nor as the ‘saviour’ of the Olympics, so much as
an event that was the product of a very specific set of political and economic
circumstances. The precise role of the private sector in Olympic hosting has
mutated substantially since 1984, depending on the differing local conditions
and ambitions of host cities. Indeed, as early as the Seoul Summer Olympics in
1988, public sector investment re-emerged as an important aspect of Olympic
revenue production in many host cities. Neoliberal ideological purists continue
to dislike the idea of any public sector investment in the Olympics, which
explains why so many Republicans in 2010 were opposed to Chicago’s 2016
Olympic bid.
Still, today’s Olympic movement has been shaped nonetheless by a neoliberal
legacy. Cities still purse the Olympics for all the old reasons: as a way of boost-
ing international image, to attract tourism and foreign investment, and to lev-
erage infrastructure spending from higher levels of government. However, the
political and ideological rationales for these public investments have shifted
subtly since the mid-1980s. In Rome, Tokyo and Munich, the justification for
public investments in the Olympics was typically incorporated into a policy
culture that promoted social and technological modernisation alongside high
levels of social welfare service provision. This was matched with broad accept-
ance of the idea that governments should borrow money in the short term for
big projects with the expectation that there would be longer-term payoffs in
financial stability and the expansion of aggregate demand. The Olympics were
not without critics, but in this climate, they were easier to connect to a broadly
imagined collective ‘public interest’ than they are today.
This is because justification for public sector investment in the Olympics
has shifted over the past two decades to an implicitly neoliberal rationale that
promotes tax cuts and justifies social spending only if it can be linked to the
promotion of entrepreneurialism and wealth creation. Olympic promoters
today build their case by representing the Olympics as an economic growth
engine whose benefits will ‘trickle down’ through the community.121 By the
same token, in a climate of neoliberal globalisation, booster coalitions in large
156 A Gold Medal for the Market: The 1984 Los Angeles Olympics

cities have become increasingly ‘entrepreneurial’ themselves as they struggle

for a privileged place in 21st-century global commercial and finance networks.
To this end, they are willing to throw massive public resources into the pur-
suit of so-called ‘world class’ events such as the Olympics at the very moment
that public sector investments in other areas continue to deteriorate. This has
increasingly pitted Olympic promoters against activists and less affluent citizens
who mourn the ongoing erosion of postwar social service provision and who
resent the way that Olympic organising committees are able to bypass local
democratic governance.122 Critics also regard public subsidies to the Olympics
as indirect subsidies to the IOC, an organisation that is extraordinarily wealthy
and not accountable to any electorate. In these ways, the Olympic Games are
increasingly implicated in a deepening polarisation between rich and poor in
many of the world’s cities. It is too much to say that this polarisation is a direct
legacy of the 1984 Los Angeles Olympic Games. But, in a more modest way,
as one small contributor to the struggle for consent to neoliberalism over the
past 25 years, the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics have left an indelible mark on
the international political landscape.

Notes
1. For an example of this view, as expressed by an Olympic insider, see Moran, ‘How
Los Angeles Saved the Olympics’.
2. For example, Barney, et al. Selling the Five Rings: The International Olympic Committee
and the Rise of Olympic Commercialism and Tomlinson, ‘The Commercialization of the
Olympics: Cities, Corporations and the Olympic Community’.
3. For example, Roche, Mega-Events and Modernity; Burbank, et al. Olympic Dreams: The
Impact of Mega-events on Local Politics. Andranovich, et al., ‘Olympic Cities: Lessons
Learned from Mega-Event Politics’; Hiller, ‘Mega-events, Urban Boosterism and
Growth Strategies: An Analysis of the Objectives and Legitimation of the Cape Town
2004 Olympic Bid; Hall, ‘Selling Places: Hallmark Events and the Reimagining of
Sydney and Toronto’.
4. On postwar economic expansion see Harvey The Condition of Postmodernity; Margolin
and Schor, The Golden Age of Capitalism: Reinterpreting the Postwar Experience; and
Skidelsky, Keynes: The Return of the Master.
5. Harvey, The Condition of Postmodernity, 132.
6. Ibid.
7. Ibid.
8. Skidelsky, Keynes, 75–100, xii–xvii
9. Harvey, A Brief History of Neoliberalism, 10.
10. Ibid., 10–11.
11. Ibid.
12. Giannoulakis and Stotlar, ‘Evolution of Olympic Sponsorship and Its Impact on the
Olympic Movement’, 181.
13. Guttmann, The Games Must Go On: Avery Brundage and the Olympic Movement, 23–50;
82–131.
 Rick Gruneau and Robert Neubauer 157

14. See Andersen, Television and Consumer Culture; and Turncock, Television and Consumer
Culture: Britain and the Transformation of Modernity.
15. Toohey and Veal, The Olympic Games: A Social Science Perspective, 154.
16. Ibid.
17. Ibid.
18. McMillan, ‘Bidding for Olympic Broadcast Rights: The Competition Before the
Competition’, 2.
19. Moreland, ‘Olympics and Television’.
20. Ibid.
21. Ibid.
22. McMillan, ‘Bidding for Olympic Broadcasting Rights’, 3.
23. Gruneau and Cantelon, ‘Capitalism, Commercialism and the Olympics’, 354;
Zarnowski, ‘A Look at Olympic Costs’, 22–23.
24. Zarnowski, ‘Olympic Costs’, 23–24, although at the time some journalistic sources
argued that expenses ran in excess of $700 million, for example, Gilbert, ‘Munich’s
Giant Hangover’.
25. Zarnowski, ‘Olympic Costs’, 25.
26. Guttmann, The Games Must Go On, 111–131.
27. See Barney, ‘Resistance, Persistence, Providence: The 1932 Los Angeles Olympic
Games in Perspective’; and Dyreson (1995), ‘Marketing National Identity: The
Olympic Games of 1932 and American Culture’.
28. Barney et al., Selling the Five Rings, 33.
29. Giannoulakis and Stotlar, ‘Evolution of Olympic Sponsorship …’, 181.
30. Ibid.
31. Preuss, The Economics of Staging the Olympics: A Comparison of the Games, 1972–2008.,
127.
32. Zarnowski, ‘Olympic Costs’, 24.
33. Ibid.
34. Harvey, The Condition of Postmodernity, 141.
35. Ibid.
36. Ibid.
37. Ibid.
38. Ibid.
39. Ibid., 142.
40. Ibid.
41. Ibid., 145.
42. Ibid.
43. Levine, ‘Tourism, Urban Redevelopment and the “World Class City”: the Cases of
Baltimore and Montreal’, 433.
44. Zarnowski ‘Olympic Costs’, 24.
45. Whitson, ‘Olympic Hosting in Canada: Promotional Ambitions, Political
Challenges’, 35.
46. Kidd, ‘The Culture Wars of the Montreal Olympics’.
47. Harvey, The Condition of Postmodernity, 145.
48. On the rise of fiscal restraint in Canada in the 1970s see Lewis, In the Long Run We’re
All Dead: The Canadian Turn to Fiscal Restraint.
49. Harvey, The Condition of Postmodernity, 142.
50. Harvey, A Brief History of Neoliberalism, 19–22.
51. Ibid.
52. Ibid.
158 A Gold Medal for the Market: The 1984 Los Angeles Olympics

53. Ibid., 2.
54. Ibid., 3.
55. Ibid., 75.
56. Ibid., 65.
57. Ibid., 66.
58. Ibid., 54.
59. Busch, ‘Ronald Reagan and Economic Policy’, 26.
60. Harrison and Bluestone, The Great U-Turn. Corporate Restructuring and the Polarizing of
America, 88–89.
61. Harvey, A Brief History of Neoliberalism, 22.
62. Ibid., 40–43.
63. Storobin, ‘American Economic Policy from Hoover to Bush’.
64. Busch, ‘Ronald Reagan and Economic Policy’, 28; and Morgan, ‘Reaganomics and Its
Legacy’, 107.
65. Busch, ‘Ronald Reagan and Economic Policy’, 34.
66. Harvey, A Brief History of Neoliberalism, 23.
67. See Busch, ‘Ronald Reagan and Economic Policy’ 29; Brownlee and Steuerle,
‘Taxation’, 158; and Sloan, ‘The Economic Costs of Reagan Mythology’, 45.
68. Harvey, A Brief History of Neoliberalism, 26.
69. See Davies, G. (2003), 211–212, 216; Brownlee and Steuerle, ‘Taxation’, 165; and
Harrison and Bluestone, The Great U-Turn, 92.
70. Busch, ‘Ronald Reagan and Economic Policy’, 32.
71. Harrison and Bluestone, The Great U-Turn, 101.
72. Busch, ‘Ronald Reagan and Economic Policy’, 34.
73. Ibid., 33.
74. Harvey, A Brief History of Neoliberalism, 29.
75. Sloan, ‘The Economic Costs of Reagan Mythology’, 46.
76. Ibid.
77. Ibid., 107.
78. Ibid., 46.
79. See Derthick and Teles, ‘Riding the Third Rail: Social Security Reform’ 182; Morgan,
Reaganomics and Its Legacy’, 107; Harrison and Bluestone, The Great U-Turn , 98.
80. Sloan, ‘The Economic Costs of Reagan Mythology’, 54.
81. Ibid., 105–106.
82. Ibid., 56.
83. On the role of real estate speculation in the history of Los Angeles see Davis, City of
Quartz: Excavating the Future in Los Angeles; on LA Olympic promoters’ reasons for
pursuing the Games see Andranovitch et al., ‘Olympic Cities: Lessons Learned from
Mega-Event Politics’, 119.
84. Cannon, Governor Reagan: His Rise to Power.
85. Hill, Olympic Politics, 158.
86. Ibid., 157.
87. Ibid., 158–159.
88. Callaghan, ‘Eve of a New Olympics’.
89. See Gruneau and Cantelon, ‘Capitalism, Commercialism and the Olympics’,
355–357.
90. McMillan, ‘Bidding for Olympic Broadcasting Rights’, 9.
91. Andranovich, ‘Olympic Cities: Lessons Learned from Mega-Event Politics’, 122.
92. Zarnowski, ‘Olympic Costs’, 25.
 Rick Gruneau and Robert Neubauer 159

93. Official data on Olympic security costs are sketchy; however, there is evidence
of millions of dollars for security that were not included in the LA Games
Committee’s final summary of Olympic costs, For example, press reports
suggest that the US Federal government alone spent $79 million on security
for the LA Games. See ‘Securing the Olympic Games’, Wall Street Journal, 22
August 2004.
94. Ueberroth, cited in Eason, ‘The Unstated Message of the 1984 Olympics; the Los
Angeles Games Will Show US Private Enterprise at Work’.
95. Morgan, ‘Reganomics and Its Legacy, 105.
96. Reagan, R. (28 July 1984) ‘Radio Address to the Nation on the Summer Olympic
Games’, in Public Papers of the President: Ronald Reagan, 1981–1989 (University of
Texas), www.reagan.utexas.edu.
97. Reagan, R. (18 August 1984) ‘Radio Address to the Nation on Administration
Policies’, in Public Papers of the President: Ronald Reagan, 1981–1989 (University of
Texas), www.reagan.utexas.edu.
98. Reagan, R. (26 October 1984) ‘Remarks at a Reagan-Bush Rally in Hackensack,
New Jersey’, in Public Papers of the President: Ronald Reagan, 1981–1989 (University
of Texas), www.reagan.utexas.edu.
99. Reagan, R. (20 September 1984) ‘Remarks to Employees of Westinghouse Furniture
Systems in Grand Rapids, Michigan’, in Public Papers of the President: Ronald Reagan,
1981–1989 (University of Texas), www.reagan.utexas.edu.
100. Reagan, R. (3 September 1984) ‘Remarks at a Reagan-Bush Rally in Cupertino,
California’, in Public Papers of the President: Ronald Reagan, 1981–1989 (University
of Texas), www.reagan.utexas.edu.
101. Reagan, R. (28 July 1984) ‘Remarks to American Athletes at the Summer Olympic
Games in Los Angeles, California’, in Public Papers of the President: Ronald Reagan,
1981–1989 (University of Texas), www.reagan.utexas.edu.
102. Reagan, R. (3 March 1983) ‘Remarks at a Luncheon Meeting of the United States
Olympic Committee in Los Angeles, California’, in Public Papers of the President:
Ronald Reagan, 1981–1989 (University of Texas), www.reagan.utexas.edu.
103. Reagan, R. (5 August 1982) ‘Remarks Announcing Federal Support of the National
Health Fair Partnership Program’, in Public Papers of the President: Ronald Reagan,
1981–1989 (University of Texas), www.reagan.utexas.edu.
104. Reagan, R. (10 December 1984) ‘Remarks at a Ceremony Marking the Beginning of
the President’s Citation Program for Private Sector Initiatives’, in Public Papers of the
President: Ronald Reagan, 1981–1989 (University of Texas), www.reagan.utexas.edu.
105. Romano, L. (11 August 1984) ‘Grand Master of the Games; Peter Ueberroth, Taking
Olympic Hurdles in Stride’, The Washington Post, D1.
106. Lindsay, R. (11 December 1982) ‘Private Funds Grow For ’84 Olympics on Coast’,
The New York Times, Section 1, 1.
107. Lindsay, R. (24 July 1983) ‘Sprawling Los Angeles Olympic Plan Takes Place’,
The New York Times, Section 5, 1.
108. Lindsay R. (6 August 1984) ‘Sponsoring of Games Appears To Be Successful’,
The New York Times, Section C, 11.
109. The Washington Post (12 September 1984) ‘Olympic Profit: $150 Million’,
The Washington Post, D2.
110. Lindsay, R. (18 January 1983) ’84 Olympic Plans Said To Be On Schedule’, The
New York Times, Section D; 27.
111. Lindsay (6 August 1984).
160 A Gold Medal for the Market: The 1984 Los Angeles Olympics

112. Lindsay (24 July 1983).

113. The Washington Post (12 September 1984).
114. Lindsay (11 December 1982).
115. Romano (11 August 1984).
116. Thomas Jr., R. (22 July 1984) ‘The Man at the Center of It All’, The New York Times,
Section 5, 5.
117. Ajemian, R. (7 January 1985) ‘1984 Peter Ueberroth (Time’s Man of the Year)’, Time
Magazine.
118. Thomas Jr (22 July 1984).
119. We’ve taken the phrase ‘popular capitalism’ from Gary Teeple’s more general
account of the rise of neoliberalism in his Globalization and the Decline of Social
Reform, 97–99.
120. On IOC profits see Barney et al., Selling the Five Rings.
121. See Surborg et al., ‘Mapping the Olympic Growth Machine: Transnational
Urbanism and the Growth Machine Diaspora’.
122. Whitson, ‘Olympic Hosting in Canada’, 41–42.

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Games in Perspective.’ Research Quarterly for Exercise and Sport, June.
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of Mega-events on Local Politics (Boulder: Lynne Reinner Publishers).
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10
A Source of Crisis?: Assessing
Athens 2004
John Karamichas

The Summer Olympics, like most mega-events, have always divided opinion
among the residents of the host nation. Views have ranged from an unques-
tioning acceptance of hosting the event with most of its accompanying
impacts through outright resistance to some aspects of the event (the financial
costs involved, human rights abuses by state authorities and its impact on the
environment are just three examples), or to opposition to the Games in their
entirety. The latter position usually entails employing a holistic prism that
manages to identify linkages among all the identified negative effects of the
Games and incorporate them into an anti-systemic discourse.
This chapter looks at the Athens 2004 Olympics with a focus on the social
contention they attracted. As such, it starts with a discussion of the important
place that the Olympics occupy in the national identity of Modern Greeks.
Subsequently, it moves toward an account of the social contention that arose
in relation to each one of the three phases in their development. In relation to
that, we pinpoint the replication in the bid for Athens 2004 of the bid submit-
ted for the 1996 Olympiad and its proposed Olympic-related projects. Finally,
we offer an account of the protest events surrounding that contention and
wrap everything together by examining the legacy bequeathed by Athens 2004
for the Games in general and the country in particular.

The Olympics and national identity

The Olympics always occupied a special place in the imaginative construction

of Greek national identity. They are among many key components of Hellenic
historiography that have been used since the foundation of the Modern
Greek state to lay claim to a glorious past and in effect to posit the uninter-
rupted continuity of the Greek nation over the centuries. As such, hosting
the Games was a task of immense importance, for all the reasons that have
been identified in the mega-event literature1 but it contained intense added

163
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
164 A Source of Crisis?: Assessing Athens 2004

value in the Greek case. It is in this context, the intimate connection of the
Olympics to established notions of Greek national identity that this discussion
on Athens 2004 is conducted. But the notion of being the legitimate inheri-
tor of the Games is immediately confronted by a set of challenges, ranging
from the established perceptions on what the Olympic Games were like in
ancient times to ideas about what the Games should represent in the 21st
century. Both of these dimensions played an important role in the debates
that engulfed the three phases of that mega-event, the pre-event, event and
post-event phases.2
Taking stock of the established ideas about the Games, Kalogeratou3 para-
phrased the famous statements made by Baudrillard in a series of articles in
the French newspaper Libération in 1991 on the first Gulf War 4 and posed the
question ‘did the 2004 Olympics take place?’. Like Baudrillard, she did not
dispute the fact that an event called Athens 2004 Olympics took place
but the extent to which that mega-event was an Olympic Games according
to the ‘traditional cultural characteristics that define’ Olympic Games – along
the same lines that the French philosopher questioned the extent to which the
remote-controlled missiles used in the military operation of the first Gulf War
by the USA signified a ‘real war’ as we imagined a ‘real war’ to be through the
legacy of trench warfare that the First World War has bequeathed to us. She
summarises the rationale behind the adoption of this strategy as follows:

We often ignore how much the contemporary staging of Olympic Games

has been differentiated from antiquity to nowadays, but also from the first
modern Olympics to their most recent edition. Many of those elements
that nowadays constitute characteristics of authenticity are either fictitious
or counterfeiting (such as the Marathon and the Torch relays), whilst many
of their ancient characteristics would have caused outcry nowadays (for
instance the participation in the sports only by men, Greek citizens who
competed naked).5

Having said that, it is also of immense importance to highlight that, as is often

the case, myths can have a positive and constructive potential. That has
become evident in relation to some of the aforementioned fabricated aspects of
the Olympic legacy. For instance, ‘the most cherished of Olympic symbols
is the ceremonial lighting of the torch in Olympia, the relay that follows, and
the idea of the Olympic Truce (the ceasing of all warfare during the time of the
event itself) that it marks’. The former was first performed in the Nazi Olympics
of 1936 and was concocted by Josef Goebbels, Reich Minister of Propaganda
in Nazi Germany 6 whilst the latter, with its undisputedly ancient origins, was
only revived in the 1990s.7 It might be the case that these ceremonial litur-
gies associated with the Olympics are carefully orchestrated figments of the
 John Karamichas 165

imagination but we would be hard pushed to dismiss them, given that they
hold such an important place in global public consciousness.
For a small nation like Greece imbued with numerous structural deficiencies
since the beginning of its modern incarnation and in a constant battle to prove
that it is not a pariah nation at the fringes of the Western world, laying claim to
such a heritage was of immense importance for the spirit of the nation. What
better way to continue along the route of panem et circenses (bread and circuses)
than to be selected to host an event that not only offers a great spectacle but to
which you can also claim its origin. It is not surprising then, that Greece has
been attempting to host the Games since the 19th century.8
In this context, Athens hoped to host the centennial Olympics, standing as
both the host of the first modern Olympics in 1896 and the birthplace of the
Olympics. Nevertheless, to Greece’s dismay, the 1996 Olympics were awarded
in 1990 to Atlanta. The decision by the IOC was mainly based on the assess-
ment of Athens as lacking the necessary preconditions and infrastructures to
host the Games. The intense disappointment felt by the Greeks at the time
was accompanied by populist statements, which were typical of the period in
Greece, made by the Culture Minister, Melina Mercouri. ‘Coca-Cola won over
the Parthenon,’ said Mercouri (Atlanta is the headquarters of the Coca-Cola
company). The then Prime Minister, Andreas Papandreou, called the decision
‘an injustice against Greece’.9
After the shock had subsided Athens decided to bid again to host the Games.
Indeed, in 1995 the Hellenic Olympic Committee (HOC) canvassed over
bidding for the 2004 Games and managed to submit Athens’s candidature ‘five
days before the official deadline’.10 ‘Not wholly surprisingly, Athens’s final bid
document for the 1997 IOC decision bore similarities to the failed 1990 bid,
but with less strident tone in the presentation.’11
Public opinion polls conducted to gauge the level of support among the gen-
eral public for Athens hosting the Games have come up with divergent find-
ings, depending on the specific developmental phase of the event they were
conducted on. For instance, according to an opinion poll conducted in 1996 to
measure the extent of support by the Athenian public for the bid, found that
96 per cent were in favour. Moreover, soon after the Games were awarded to
Athens, namely the start of the pre-event period, and although ‘concerns were
expressed about the alarming regional imbalances in Greece and massive com-
mercialisation of the Games, [opinion polls], which were gathered during that
period, showed that the Greeks were still in favour of the event mainly because
of the potential economic benefits’.12 However, a year before the Olympics and
in the context of mounting negative publicity about the country’s capacity
for project completion public opinion was significantly different: ‘40% of the
respondents were little or not interested at all in the event, while only 36% of
them believed that it would benefit the host country.’13
166 A Source of Crisis?: Assessing Athens 2004

Athens 2004 and civil society

Coming again to the recurring theme of the special place occupied by the
hosting of the Olympic Games in the feelings of the Greek public, it is worth
noting the following from an earlier publication on civil protest related to
Athens 2004. In that piece, it was argued that

modern Greeks have strong conviction about the linear and uninterrupted
continuity of Greek culture throughout the eons. In this context, the success of
the bid to host the 2004 Olympics was perceived, without exaggeration, as the
fulfilment of a national destiny, another Great Idea (Megali Idea) aiming to give
back to Greece its ‘rightful place’ among the leading nations of the world.14

The following statement made by a prominent government minister is charac-

teristic of the rhetoric that was used at the time by certain sectors: ‘. . . The
Olympic Games are the new “Megali Idea” of the nation . . . 2004 must become
the new vision after the EMU (Economic and Monetary Union).15 As such, it is
not much of a surprise that ‘[a] total of 160,000 applications for volunteering
were submitted, a record number if one takes into consideration the 76,655
applications of Sydney and the 78,000 of Atlanta’.16 These numbers are even
more impressive considering the fact that civil society in general and volun-
teerism in particular has been generally seen as weak and underdeveloped
in the Greek context. The promotion of volunteerism as being of ‘national
importance’ should be put at the epicentre of any attempts at explaining
this unprecedented surge of volunteerism – in conjunction with the afore-
mentioned promotion of the ‘Olympic ideal’ and its ownership by Modern
Greece. It has been suggested that this sense of ‘national pride’ emanating
from the hosting of the Games fulfilled a narcotising function that ‘subjugated
all critical approaches to that endeavour, justified the fiscal implications and
completely ignored any environmental consequences’.17 In actual fact, the
overall impression, as revealed by a number of related opinion polls, is that
there was little or no democratic input in the preparation and decision-making
processes for hosting the Games.18 This is of course diametrically opposed to
the proclaimed position of the IOC and the sustainable development perspec-
tive that it purports to take into consideration in the plans of prospective hosts
when awarding the Games where stakeholder participation in the form of civil
society organisations is seen to be of paramount importance.
Moreover, on the issue of civil society and its role on the Olympic Games,
Telloglou,19 after engaging with a detailed appraisal of the three phases of the
Games, concluded:

In many of the host Olympic cities, like Barcelona and Sydney, the pres-
ence of a civil society with active participation in everyday life safeguarded
 John Karamichas 167

a kind of citizen participation in the final configuration of these cities after

the Olympics. The absence of this society in Athens led mostly to indiffer-
ence and those with well placed real estate in their possession [engaged] in
unscrupulous profit making. The anti-social behaviour of many of Attica’s
inhabitants was reinforced by court decisions, which in the name of protect-
ing private property subsidised prices of expropriations that were beyond
those dictated by applying market criteria.

The result was a reinforcement of the defensive and reactive character that
marks civil society in Greece (and other Mediterranean countries) with the
typical result of intense protest politics.20 In the case of Olympics though,
related protest events acquired their own distinct characteristics because of the
immense power that the ‘national pride’ discourses have in the Greek context
in general and in relation to the Olympics in particular.

Protest events

A great number of Olympic-related projects were implemented between 2001

and 2003. Because they were long overdue and were in close proximity to the
opening of the Games, public consultation was completely sidestepped. As a
result they became poles for the configuration of social contention.21 The main
defence mechanism by the state was the aforementioned call for national unity
in the name of supporting what was seen as the national interest. That call had
largely the desired results during 2004, the Olympic year:

Aside [. . .] from the increase in protest events related to public spaces,

the holding of the Olympic Games had as a consequence the substantial
decrease of protest during 2004. In 2004 not only were almost all the
Olympic projects completed thus immediately decreasing the number of
possible contentious issues but there is also a general stance of consent in
light of the risk of attracting international negative publicity. As such, on
the one hand the decision-making centres avoid opening new fronts that
may cause protestation and on the other local movements are reducing
their actions due to the negative political environment. It is not an accident
that protestation continues in 2004 in its usual rhythms in areas of Athens
without ‘Olympic interest’.22

However, extra-parliamentary left activists and groups ignored the calls

for public pacification and the discontinuation of anti-war mobilisations
(protests against the invasion of Iraq by the United States and her allies).
Characteristically, a demonstration against Colin Powell’s visit to Athens on
27th August – two days before the end of the Games – attracted an unexpect-
edly high turnout. The anti-2004 protest group at the forefront of critical
168 A Source of Crisis?: Assessing Athens 2004

voices against hosting the Games had also organised earlier, on 22 July, an
anti-Olympics march in central Athens with a fairly good turnout considering
that it was summer season.23
We therefore see that the aforementioned pacification did not have the same
effect on the whole of the political spectrum. For instance, the left protest
milieu that had staged the intensive anti-war mobilisations of the immediately
preceding period appeared to continue to engage in some form of radical pro-
test activity against the Games, albeit with much less vigour.
It is worth noting that the Greek Communist Party (KKE) had from the
outset expressed a strenuous critique of the social impact of hosting the Games.
Characteristically, a well known cadre of the party, Sp. Chalvatzis24 said the fol-
lowing in a gathering discussing the post-Olympic usage of Olympic facilities:

the so called ‘utilization’, we place this word in inverted commas, is the, direct
or indirect, capitulation to big capital for installations that were paid by the
people of Greece, for their exploitation in reaping great financial gains.

Nevertheless, during the Games KKE avoided a confrontational profile. It did

not organise or participate in any protest activity as one might have expected it
to, considering its critical stance throughout the earlier pre-event phases. After
all, as a parliamentary party with a history of incurring the wrath of its oppo-
nents, who made liberal use of discursive devices purporting to support the
‘national interest’, it did not want to attract the same negative labelling, that
is, anti-Greek/pro-Soviet, at a time when the Greek public was experiencing a
moment in its history that it had been taught to desire and accept.
One thing intimately connected to the Games dimension was the rather large
number of labour casualties that incurred, 18 in total. A group of activists did
not lose the chance to remind the former mayor of Athens of that fact during
her talk, ‘What Makes an Olympic City?’, at the London School of Economics
on 4 November 2004; they ‘stormed the platform, while their colleagues in the
upper tier of seating tossed leaflets down to the audience below. After some
confusion, those on the platform unfurled a three-metre-long hand-painted
banner. It read: ‘18 Dead Workers Make a Good Olympic City.25
Nevertheless, it is worth at this point pondering those projects that attracted
contention by various actors over the pre-event phase of the Games.

Projects under contention

It is crucial to highlight the fact that the file submitted by Athens to the IOC in its
bid to host the 1996 Games was to a large extent replicated in the bid for the 2004
Olympics. In both cases the bid was not harmonised with the Athens Regulatory
Framework (ARF) of 1985 that was essentially a ‘vision’ of the land-planning
 John Karamichas 169

organisation of the city that complied with ‘sustainable development’. The ARF
was never implemented for various reasons 26 with the spatial planning arrange-
ments for Olympics 2004-related projects being a key parameter. On that basis
the following projects were contested by local citizen initiatives:

• The Olympic Village on the basis of the fact that an already demographically
challenged city was essentially planning to accommodate another com-
munity of more than 15,000 residents and further expanding into partially
forested and agricultural land.
• The selection of Schinias on the coast north-east of Athens near the ancient
battlefield of Marathon and one of the last remaining water biotopes [areas
that are uniform in environmental conditions and in their distribution
of animal and plant life] in Attica for facilities to host rowing, canoeing
and kayaking was seen as likely to upset the local ecosystem. Moreover,
‘[a]rchaeologists and historians saw it as the site of the battle of Marathon
and an important cultural landscape . . . [t]he Greek government was criti-
cized for removing the area from a list of sites to be submitted for Natura
2000 status’ by environmental groups.27
• The use of Faliro for accommodating a number of sport facilities and Agios
Kosmas for sailing installations. The plan for baseball, softball [and] beach
volley stadia as permanent installations that upset the original ARF desig-
nation of the Faliro coast as green public space while the plans for Agios
Kosmas were leading to the further expansion of existing facilities in the
area and post-2004 to ‘the further exclusion of the local residents from the
sea and the public coastal space’.28

The legacy of 2004 – assessing the costs

According to Pagoulatos,29 the 2004 Olympic Games generated deficits, instead

of the projected growth, and as such are one of the contributors to the ‘acute
fiscal vulnerability’ that the country found itself with the onset of the 2008
global economic crisis. Gatopoulos30 points out that ‘if [the Olympics are] not
the sole reason for this nation’s financial mess, some point to the games as at
least an illustration of what’s gone wrong in Greece’. He points out that they
cost double the initial budget, approximately $11 billion: ‘A figure that does
not include major infrastructure projects rushed to completion at inflated
costs. In the months before the games, construction crews worked around the
clock, using floodlights to keep the work going at night. In addition, the tab
for security alone was more than $1.2 billion.’
Nevertheless, according to the data presented by Theos,31 a detailed analytical
table of the projects and their financial cost is not available. In actual fact, dif-
ferent government ministers estimated the cost of the Games from a10 billion
170 A Source of Crisis?: Assessing Athens 2004

to a13 billion in their post-Olympic statements. In his view there has been an
addition to the actual costs in different estimates of projects that did not have
an immediate connection with the Olympic Games (for example, the reloca-
tion of the military airport and a new building for the ministry of education).
That may appear as a prelude to a highly critical appraisal of the costs accrued
by the Olympic Games but Theos also presents data that show a rather posi-
tive picture in relation to the financial gains made by the Olympics that more
or less counteracts the negativities that permeate the general view on the
legacy of Athens 2004. In these data, the growth rate of Greece during the year
before the Olympics had reached the highest level in EU15 and the annual
export figure increased by between 4.5 and 5 per cent because of the Games, as
opposed to the 2.5 per cent that it would have been if Greece had not hosted
the Games. This evidence encouraged him to go as far as to claim that ‘if he
was placed in the position of a decision maker for Greece, he would had drawn
a very positive conclusion from that experience and would have tried to bid
for hosting more Olympic Games. Especially nowadays where we possess the
technical knowhow and we also know how to better control the cost and have
at our disposal a substantial part of the required infrastructure’.32
This kind of mixed appraisal of the legacy of the Athens Olympics is also
evident in the presentation given on that front by Theochari, environmen-
tal manager for ATHOC (the organising committee for Athens 2004) for the
18 months before the opening of the Games. Characteristically, she also puts
forward a very positive assessment of the economic impact of hosting the
Games in Athens as follows:

From the economic side of things, the Olympic Games offered conditions
that allowed growth rates, even in periods of international recession. The
extremely important infrastructural works that were constructed, the tech-
nological know-how, the imposed modernization in the operation of both
public and private institutions, the obligation to upgrade the quality of all
types of service provisions and products, constitute a particularly impor-
tant contribution of the Olympic Games. As far as the social dimension is
concerned, the value of the event was also important, as many projects were
completed in downgraded areas of Attica.33
[. . .]At the same time [the event] was an instrument and an opportunity,
as the city was obliged to renovate its infrastructures and its image and col-
lective behaviours [. . .] After all, the bidding file was undertaking responsi-
bilities and obligations in relation to the environment which not only were
supposed to be respected but also to be progressively enriched. The Olympic
Games were therefore for Athens simultaneously an instrument and an
opportunity, as the city was obliged to renovate its infrastructures, its image
and it attitudes.34
 John Karamichas 171

This paints a rather positive picture, in which Theochari links the aspiration
that characterised the bidding to the actual implementation of the promise.
Nevertheless, she also noted a number of failures, such as the inadequate pro-
motion of alternative energy sources, the under-use of sustainable building
material and the lack of planning for post-Olympic use of Olympic infrastruc-
tures as well as lack of capitalisation on the positive experience acquired. That
can collectively be seen as an overall failure of ambition, something that was
mostly conditioned as such by the political process.
We now comment on the issues surrounding the legacy attached to another
one of the aforementioned contentious projects that is an apt follow-up to the
above issue of unfulfilled environmental-related ambitions. That is undoubt-
edly one of the most important projects that characterise the undertaking of
an Olympic Games, the Olympic village.
The legacy of Sydney’s Olympic village was incorporated by means of knowl-
edge transfer from Sydney to the organising committee of Athens 2004. As
such, considering the green credentials of Sydney 2000, the initial planning
study of the Olympic Village in 2000 highlighted as ‘necessary preconditions,
among others, the implementation of bioclimatic design, the use of renewable
energy sources, avoiding using PVC material, the use of energy and water sav-
ing technologies’. Nevertheless, the Olympic village was also added to the pan-
theon of unfulfilled ambitions that characterised the Athens 2004 Olympics.
None of the above ‘necessary preconditions’ was implemented as the costs
were mounting and initial costs projections were becoming untenable, and for
OEK, the housing institution responsible for that project, many of the instal-
lations attached to the project (additional green spaces, air conditions in base-
ments and other non-permanent installations) were seen as overlays that had
to be financed by ATHOC.35
That has not stopped Asimakopoulos36 from arguing that the Olympic Village
had a positive social impact through the allocation of homes to 10,000 people
and awarding interest-free loans in relation to the costs incurred by holders
with a 20-year amortisation (repayment). That though was soon counteracted
by the speech made by the representative of the Olympic Village residents,
G. Lourdis37 who brought up the lack of essential facilities, like school build-
ings and sport facilities for the 3000 children living in the village, lack of incor-
poration into existing transport networks, a range of technical problems posing
health risks, the abandonment and dereliction of existing facilities and the
likely exploitation of adjacent green spaces on the slopes of Mount Parnitha
for commercial purposes.
As pinpointed earlier, for the active opponents to the Games there was an
unjustifiable spending spree on expensive facilities with inadequately justified
post-Olympic use. Indeed, six years later, more than half of Athens’ Olympic
sites are either barely used or empty. The long list of mothballed facilities
172 A Source of Crisis?: Assessing Athens 2004

includes a baseball diamond, a massive man-made canoe and kayak course,

and arenas built for unglamorous sports such as table tennis, field hockey and
judo. Deals to convert several venues into recreation sites – such as turning the
canoe-kayak venue into a water park – have been stalled by legal challenges
from residents’ groups and Byzantine planning regulations.38
However, the view taken by the IOC, while acknowledging the undisputed
failures, is not that grim. For instance, for IOC president Jacques Rogge, linking
‘the debt crisis to the games is “unfair”’. In fact, he argues that ‘Athens is still
reaping the benefits from its pre-games overhaul of the city’s transport systems
and infrastructure. These are things that really leave a very good legacy for the
city . . . There have been expenses, of course. You don’t build an airport for
free’, but ‘[h]ad Athens still been outmoded, the economy would have been
much worse probably than it is today’.39
Moreover, according to Gatopoulos 40 in a statement that very much stands
in agreement with the above perspective adopted by Theos, ‘Greek Olympic
officials insist the scale of the country’s dire financial problems – and its stagger-
ing national debt of $382 billion – are simply too big to be blamed on the 2004
Games budget’ and complements this by citing the opinion of Andrew Zimbalist,
a US economist who studies the financial impact of major sporting events, who
said in a statement reminiscent of the aforementioned views of Pagoulatos that

[p]ut in proper perspective, it is hard to argue that the Olympic Games were
an important factor behind the Greek financial crisis. It is, however, likely
that they contributed modestly to the problem. The empty or underused
facilities are a problem and the maintenance and operating costs continue
to impose a burden. That said, Athens also benefited from infrastructure
development and the Greek public debt is $400 billion.

Nevertheless, some point out that before the Games, Greece’s densely popu-
lated capital got a new metro system, a new airport, and a tram and light rail-
way network, along with a bypass highway, while ancient sites in Athens’ city
centre were linked up with a cobblestone walkway.41
For some, including N. Alevras,42 the lead government official for Olympic
projects, and Ch. Kokkosis,43 overall, the games carried a net gain including a
tourism boost, mostly in the form of upgrading the old and overused image
of the country presented to the world by showcasing its capacity to offer high
standards of hospitality provision. Moreover, Alevras said in an interview with
Associated Press, ‘[t]he issue of venue use is a sad story . . . Plans for post-
Olympic use were later ignored’. He assessed though that ‘[t]he money spent
on the Olympics is equivalent to one quarter of last year’s budget deficit. So
how can the amount spent over seven years of preparation for the Olympic
Games end up being considered responsible for the crisis? That’s irrational.’44
 John Karamichas 173

All these clearly point to the fact that the overall cost-benefit appraisal of
the Athens 2004 Olympic Games is a task that can hardly lead to unanimously
accepted findings. There is, though, overwhelming agreement that there were
many ambitions that did not manage to make their way far beyond the board-
room where they were first concocted. The immense financial crisis in which
Greece found itself in 2010 has once again brought to the fore the extremely
high costs that hosting the Games had incurred; only this time there is not
much space for feelings of national pride and reminders of ancient glories. We
should not lose sight of the fact that the summer of 2004 was also marked by
another event that fuelled strong feelings of national pride, the unexpected
victory of the Greek soccer team in the final of the European championships.
Both, along with a string of high achievements in a number of international
team sport events, were aptly exploited by the government at the time to create
a bubble of euphoria among the general public that pushed under the carpet
many of the perennial socioeconomic problems that have marked Greece at
least since the transition to democracy in the 1970s. The devastating forest fires
of 2007, which at some point reached the heritage site of Olympia, and the
riots that ensued after the killing by police of a teenager in Athens in December
2008, were crucial bubble-bursters that signified a turning point in Greek socio-
political attitudes.45 Without doubt, these have provided an important analyti-
cal prerequisite for any explanation of the intensive grass roots protest that has
marked Greece during the decisive impact of the global economic crisis on the
country in 2010.

Conclusion

This chapter has provided a critical overview of the Athens 2004 Olympic
Games wherein the focus was primarily placed on the opposition and civil con-
tention that this mega sport event had attracted through its developmental
phases. It was deemed to be important to highlight from the outset the special
place that the Olympics occupied (and continue to occupy) in the imaginative
construction of Modern Greek national identity. We argued that that can have
a narcotising function that can serve to pacify and manipulate the general
public. This pacification, however, reached its apogee close to the actual open-
ing of the Games, as by then most of the highly contentious projects had been
completed. That did not stop the most radical sectors of the social movements’
protest milieu; with participation in the anti-war mobilisations, as well as the
anti-2004 network demonstrating in order to cancel the visit in Athens by Colin
Powell. We proceeded to an account of the critical concerns raised in relation to
a number of key projects and following that we closed by providing a post-event
cost-benefit analysis. There we identified different perspectives from a variety of
sources. This was mostly organised around the issue of the economic crisis that
174 A Source of Crisis?: Assessing Athens 2004

the country has been experiencing and the impact that Olympic hosting could
possibly have had on that. The divergence of opinion did not allow for any
concrete and unequivocal opinion on that front. However, what is more than
certain is that the Athens 2004 Olympics were marked by a range of unfulfilled
ambitions; best-laid plans that were stopped from leaving the drawing board.

Notes
1. See, for example, Roche, Mega-events and Modernity: Olympics and Expos in the Growth
of Global Culture; Horne and Manzenreiter, ‘An Introduction to the Sociology of
Sports Mega-events’.
2. See Hiller, ‘Toward an Urban Sociology of Mega-Events’.
3. Kalogeratou, ‘Did the Olympic Games Take Place in 2004?’.
4. See Baudrillard, The Gulf War Did Not Take Place.
5. Kalogeratou, ‘Did the Olympic Games Take Place in 2004?’, 161.
6. See Hayes and Karamichas, ‘Introduction: Sports Mega-Events, Sustainable
Development and Civil Societies’.
7. See Briggs et al., 16 Days. The Role of the Olympic Truce in the Toolkit for Peace; Hayes
and Karamichas, ‘Introduction: Sports Mega-events, Sustainable Development and
Civil Societies’, 8.
8. See Young, ‘From Olympia 776 BC to Athens 2004: The Origin and Authenticity of
the Modern Olympic Games’.
9. Gold, ‘Athens 2004’.
10. Ibid., 269.
11. Ibid.
12. Dodouras and James, ‘Athens 2004 Olympiad: System Ideas to Map Multidisciplinary
Views – Reporting on the Views of the Host Community’, 73–74.
13. Ibid., 74.
14. Karamichas, ‘Risk versus National Pride: Conflicting Discourses over the Construction
of a High Voltage Power Station in the Athens Metropolitan Area for Demands of the
2004 Olympics’, 134.
15. Costas Laliotis, government minister, Eleftherotypia Daily, 19 November 2000, cited
in Totsikas, The Other Facet of the Olympiad, 2004.
16. Fragonikolopoulos, ‘The Legacy and Challenge of “Post-Olympic Volunteerism”’,
229.
17. Ibid., 229–230.
18. Dodouras and James, ‘Athens 2004 Olympiad’, 77.
19. Telloglou, The City of the Games, 208.
20. See Karamichas, ‘Civil Society and the Environmental Problematic. A Preliminary
Investigation of the Greek and Spanish Cases’.
21. Karamichas, ‘Risk versus National Pride’; Kavoulakos, ‘Protestation and Claiming of
Public Places: A Movement in the City of Athens in the 21st Century’.
22. Kavoulakos, ‘Protestation and Claiming of Public Places’, 408.
23. Totsikas, The Other Facet of the Olympiad, 2004, 28–31; see also Lenskyj, Olympic
Industry Resistance: Challenging Olympic Power and Propaganda, 41–43.
24. Chalvatzis, ‘Opening ...’: presentation.
25. Gold and Gold, ‘Introduction’, 1.
26. Totsikas, The Other Facet of the Olympiad, 2004, 64–67.
 John Karamichas 175

27. Gold, ’Athens 2004’, 274.

28. Totsikas The Other Facet of the Olympiad, 2004, 70; Gold, ’Athens 2004’, 273.
29. Pagoulatos, The Greek Economy and the Potential for Green Development.
30. Gatopoulos, ‘Greek Financial Crisis: Did 2004 Athens Olympics Spark Problems in
Greece?’.
31. Theos, ‘The Economic Dimension of the 2004 Olympic Games’.
32. Ibid.
33. Theochari, ‘Mega-sport Events and the Environment. The Athens Olympic Games’.
34. Ibid.
35. Telloglou, The City of the Games, 104, 107.
36. Asimakopoulos, ‘The Olympic Village’.
37. Lourdis, ‘The Olympic Village of Athens 2004 (the Greatest Olympic Project)’.
38. Gatopoulos, ’Greek Financial Crisis’.
39. Ibid.
40. Ibid.
41. See Ibid., and the speech made by J. Acebillo in TEE, ‘Roundtable discussion’.
42. Gatopoulos, ’Greek Financial Crisis’.
43. Kokkosis, ‘The Impacts on Tourism by the 2004 Olympic Games’.
44. Gatopoulos, ’Greek Financial Crisis’.
45. Karamichas, ‘The Impact of the Summer 2007 Forest Fires in Greece: Recent
Environmental Mobilizations, Cyber-Activism and Electoral Performance’;
Karamichas, ‘The December 2008 Riots in Greece’.

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Impacts from Olympic Games Hosting in Beijing, Athens, Sydney, Barcelona – The Utilization
of Olympic Installations and Projects, at: http://library.tee.gr/digital/m2482/m2482_
contents.htm (accessed 12 April 2010).
Lenskyj, H. J. (2008) Olympic Industry Resistance: Challenging Olympic Power and Propaganda
(Albany: State University of New York Press).
Lourdis, G. (2009) ‘The Olympic Village of Athens 2004 (the Greatest Olympic Project)’,
presentation in the International two-day conference, The Impacts from Olympic Games
Hosting in Beijing, Athens, Sydney, Barcelona – The Utilization of Olympic Installations and
Projects, at: http://library.tee.gr/digital/m2482/m2482_contents.htm (accessed 12 April
2010).
Pagoulatos, G. (2010) The Greek Economy and the Potential for Green Development (Berlin:
Friedrich Ebert Stiftung).
Roche, M. (2000) Mega-events and Modernity: Olympics and Expos in the Growth of Global
Culture (London and New York: Routledge).
TEE (2009) ‘Roundtable Discussion’, at the International two-day conference, The
Impacts from Olympic Games Hosting in Beijing, Athens, Sydney, Barcelona – The Utilization
of Olympic Installations and Projects, at: http://library.tee.gr/digital/m2482/m2482_
contents.htm (accessed 12 April 2010).
Telloglou, T. (2004) The City of the Games (Athens: Estia).
 John Karamichas 177

Theochari, C. (2009) ‘Mega-sport Events and the Environment. The Athens Olympic
Games’, presentation at the International two-day conference, The Impacts from
Olympic Games Hosting in Beijing, Athens, Sydney, Barcelona – The Utilization of Olympic
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(accessed 12 April 2010).
Theos, K. (2009) ‘The Economic Dimension of the 2004 Olympic Games’, presentation
at the International two-day conference, The Impacts from Olympic Games Hosting in
Beijing, Athens, Sydney, Barcelona – The Utilization of Olympic Installations and Projects, at:
http://library.tee.gr/digital/m2482/m2482_contents.htm (accessed 12 April 2010).
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London: Elsevier), 3–18.
11
Bringing the Mountains into
the City: Legacy of the Winter
Olympics, Turin 2006
Egidio Dansero and Alfredo Mela

1 Introduction1

Exactly 50 years after Cortina d’Ampezzo (1956), the Winter Olympic Games
returned to Italy in 2006, in Turin, and for the tenth time to the Alpine envi-
ronment, where they were met with a totally changed context. While in the
first, Italy had been a country heading towards Fordist industrialisation and
Cortina an élite tourist resort; 50 years later the Olympics came to a city that
had been the symbol of Fordist industrialisation in Italy, a one-company town
on a par with Detroit, which used the great Olympic event to give a further
and decisive thrust to its post-Fordist transition. Turin was a city of around
900,000 inhabitants, closer to 1,700,000 when considering the metropolitan
conglomeration. It was near the Alps, with close cultural ties with the Alpine
environment, although it was not definable as an Alpine city, unlike Grenoble
or Innsbruck. For the Olympic Movement, the choice to host the 20th Winter
Olympic Games in Turin was an affirmation of the urban Winter Olympic
model, a departure from the standard choice of Alpine tourist resort. And this,
as we shall see, was one of the most important characteristics of the Torino
2006 games, that is, laying emphasis on the urban Winter Olympics proposal,
closer to the Summer Games than the conventional Winter Games.
Given this basic premise, our chapter focuses on a critical analysis of the 20th
Olympic Winter Games, Torino 2006. In particular, we would like to answer to
two complementary questions. The first concerns the long-term impacts of the
Games on the local territories and environment, with emphasis on the relation-
ships between different parts of the Olympic spatial system and particularly
between the city (Turin and its metropolitan area) and the mountains. The
second concerns the contributions that an analysis of the Turin Games can make
to the critical debate on the Olympic Games and the Olympic movement.
The theoretical framework of this chapter is based on the idea that a mega-
event, such as the Winter Olympics, involves the creation of a ‘project territory’

178
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 Egidio Dansero and Alfredo Mela 179

interacting with the ‘ordinary’ process of territorialisation that constantly

builds and transforms the spatial structure of a specific society.
In Turin’s case, the spatial framework of the event was characterised by a
bipolar spatial structure (city/mountains), but the final result saw an actual
dominance of the metropolis: in many ways the mountains were brought
into the city, as the backdrop to an edition of the Games marked by urban
centrality. This inequality also emerges from the governance of the event and
in the tangible and intangible Olympic legacy. In fact, while Turin has been
able to use the event to renew its image and pursue strategic goals for urban
transformation, until now the mountains have not taken the opportunity to
redefine their development model and create more balanced relations with the
city. Other aspects of more general interest that emerge from Torino 2006 con-
cern environmental governance and participation. From the outset, the lead-up
to Torino 2006 was marked by a particular focus on the issue of environmental
sustainability. The organisers’ intentions in this regard were expressed in the
early stages of the Olympic process with the so-called Olympic Green Card,
which set out general guidelines on how to organise a sustainability-oriented
Olympic Games.
In spite of the many different and apparently great efforts made towards the
environment, it is difficult to qualify Torino 2006 as Green Games.

2 Torino 2006: the context of a location choice

2.1 Why Turin made a bid to host the Olympics

After Nagano 1998 and Salt Lake City 2002, the IOC’s decision to return to
Europe for the 20th Winter Olympics was almost compulsory, and, indeed,
Turin’s bid ran alongside those of Helsinki, Klagenfurt, Poprad-Tatry and
Zakopane, as well as the Swiss runner-up, Sion. Turin had won an informal
competition, beating the presentations of Bolzano, Cortina d’Ampezzo (which
was bidding in partnership with Venice, aware of the importance of the urban
factor) and Tarvisio (a joint candidacy with Arnoldstein and Kranjska Gora).
Located in the north-west of the Italian peninsula, the capital of Regione
Piemonte and the first capital of the Kingdom of Italy (from 1861 to 1865),
after handing the sceptre to Florence Turin gradually moved towards industrial
specialisation, with a spectacular economic and demographic launch, reaching
its height of around 1,203,000 inhabitants in 1975. The demographic growth
of the city was due mainly to the immigration processes caused by the car
industry boom: in fact, the migratory balance for Turin was highly positive
during the 1950s (⫹286,068) and the 1960s (⫹147,363).2
From the end of the 1970s, the city began a phase of profound economic
transformation, which, during the 1980s and 1990s, led to the search for
diversification, while remaining a strongly industrial city, with specialisations
180 Bringing the Mountains into the City: Turin 2006

in the automotive and high-tech sectors, and remaining the home of Fiat, the
most important multinational company in Italy.
This mutation was none other than the local representation of inter-
national trends, typical of the contemporary economic system, with the tran-
sition towards a phase of flexible production in a context characterised by
growing social and economic instability, increasingly competitive players and
greater market integration.3
In Turin, this crisis, accompanied by high uncertainty with regards to the
chances of overcoming it, was worsened by a chronic delay in the urban
renewal sectors, particularly evident in infrastructures and service sectors.4 In
urban terms, the transition away from Fordism required the differentiation of
economic activities and a reorganisation of production processes, but also, and
above all, their relationship with the territory.5 The fear was that this would
entail a move to the outer city, owing to the city’s poor accessibility, and to
the risk, which still exists, for the global player, Fiat, of losing its territorial
stronghold.6
The strongest responses to deal with this problem were developed during the
1990s and range from approval of the Master Plan in April 1995,7 the setting
up, in 1998, of the first ‘Torino Internazionale’ Strategic Plan – intended as
an instrument of orientation and orchestration between players – to the city’s
candidacy in 1998 and award ( June 1999) of the 20th Winter Olympics in 2006
and the resulting commencement of a whole range of public works intended to
redesign the future of the area.
These three initiatives represent an opportunity of undeniable strategic
importance for Turin, and a framework for definite modernisation, albeit
somewhat tardy when compared to other European cities. All this in a context
which, on the one hand was already heavily disrupted by large infrastructure
projects8 (the most important of these include the Passante railway, the metro,
the new high-speed/high capacity rail link with Milan, and the controversial
project for the new high-speed Turin-Lyons rail link with France) while, on the
other, it had long been intended to build less hierarchical and more inclusive
governance processes than those typical of the Fordist era, hence the decision
to create the Torino Internazionale Strategic Plan.9

2.2 The spatial model of Torino 2006: an alliance between city

and mountain
For a city that, for such a long time, had built its organisation of physical and
social space on the solidity and functional rigidness of the Fordist city, the
bid for an ephemeral event such as the Olympic Games represented a cultural
transformation comparable to a Copernican Revolution.
In 1998, after the World Ski Championships in Sestriere held the previous
year, when it made its bid to host the 20th Winter Olympics, Turin saw an
 Egidio Dansero and Alfredo Mela 181

excellent opportunity to accelerate its post-Fordist transformation. This would

be done both materially and symbolically, by facilitating the transition to a
model based on diverse vocations, and taking action on the material trans-
formation of the territory, as well as its internal and external representation,
particularly in terms of its international image. These objectives were in line
with those of the Alpine sites of Alta Val Susa and Chisone, which saw the
event as a crucial chance to gain a competitive edge in the winter tourism
market, by expanding and revising infrastructure and tourist facilities and
improving the area’s image. The transformation of both poles of the Olympic
territory had in common the predominant ideology of modernisation and ter-
ritorial competitiveness. Hence, several different territorial systems – the Turin
metropolitan area, the Pinerolese region, the high valleys and the intermediate
areas – were linked for the first time into a single territory. In this sense, Torino
2006 seemed to be a voluntary construction of territorial cohesion. This was
the product of a local network of players who shared a development project
based on the event, albeit stemming from different objectives, and who coop-
erated to achieve it, emphasising the territory’s potential and managing to
bring together the strategies of supralocal networks: the IOC and the Olympic
Movement, the government and other supralocal players.
It is worth noting that the main distinctive features of Torino 2006 can be
seen in spatial terms. We have the urban area of a medium-sized city, and the
mountain areas of the skiing resorts in the upper part of two alpine valleys that
start from Turin plain, within a range of 80km.
In the case of Torino 2006, we see a fairly complex spatial structure, consist-
ing of areas and networks:

• The ‘Olympic region’, in the strict sense (see Figure 11.1), is a significant
portion of the Province of Turin, comprising Bardonecchia to the west, Torre
Pellice to the south and Turin to the east;
• The ‘Olympic locations’. If we take a closer look, this area is a set of different
areas, which can be grouped into two types: the urban area, centred on the
city of Turin, and the mountain area, with various localities in the high Susa
Valley, Chisone Valley and Pellice Valley;
• In addition to these two areas, we find another, which we called ‘Midland’,
a territory which gathers all the locations metaphorically and logistically
affected by the great event, even if they are not directly encompassed in the
geographical distribution of the ‘Olympic functions’;
• Finally, the connections to reach the ‘Olympic region’ and the ‘Olympic
locations’.

The mountain spatial system was centred on the skiing district of the so-called
Via Lattea, together with Bardonecchia in Susa Valley and Pragelato in Chisone
Figure 11. 1 The Winter Olympic scene
Source: elaboration by Lartu-Diter on TOROC’s (TORino Organising Committee) data.
 Egidio Dansero and Alfredo Mela 183

Valley. It is a functionally separate system, as all the ‘snow athletes’ resided in

these areas (the Olympic Villages of Bardonecchia and Sestriere), while Turin
hosted ‘ice athletes and competitions’ along with another Olympic Village,
the Media Villages, the Main Press Centre and the International Broadcasting
Centre for television and radio services.

3 Effects of the Games on Turin and the mountains

3.1 Turin and the Alps: a difficult relationship

To assess the effects of the Games on the city and the Alpine areas which
hosted them, it is important to draw attention to the issues examined in
section 2, concerning the motivation behind Turin’s drive to win the competi-
tion to organise the 20th Winter Olympic Games. It is important to emphasise
that these motivations were linked mainly to the problems of the city and
particularly to the need to reconvert its development model after concluding
a phase in which Fordist industry had been the main driving force behind
economic growth and the construction of the city’s network of international
relations. The involvement of the mountains in the Games represented an
obvious need – at least from Turin’s perspective – but was not destined to be a
long-term objective beyond the Olympic event: despite official statements to
the contrary, there was no initial strategic alliance project between the city and
the Alpine valleys.
However, if we take a close look at the long history of relations between Turin
and the mountain areas, it is important to note that, even in previous historical
periods, these have been marked by a strong degree of ambivalence.
On the one hand, the mountains have often played an essential role in the
history of Turin. Indeed, beginning particularly from the period when the capi-
tal of the Duchy of Savoy was moved to Turin by Emanuel Philibert (in 1562),
the Alps played and maintained – until the annexation of Savoy to France (in
1860) – a role of interconnection between the two sides and contributed to
the establishment of cultural bonds between them. The industrial period itself,
which, during the 20th century, determined the heavy concentration of the
population in the urban area, was initially linked to the areas emerging from
the Alpine valleys, given the decisive importance, until the first part of the
19th century, of the presence of water resources in the location of production
activities.
On the other hand, during the last century, and particularly during the Fordist
period which affected the city in the 30-year period following the Second World
War, relations between Turin and the mountains changed profoundly. The pres-
ence of industry was consolidated in the Alpine valley area closest to the city,
which also saw the progressive penetration of the metropolitan area. The highest
part of the Alpine valleys reduced its population, with the gradual weakening
184 Bringing the Mountains into the City: Turin 2006

of the mountain agricultural economy, which had operated for centuries, also
guaranteeing an ecological equilibrium thanks to the continuous ‘maintenance’
work done on the environment by the populations inhabiting it. Nevertheless,
some parts (particularly the high Susa Valley) specialised in tourism based on
winter sports. This practice, which began at the start of the 20th century as
an activity targeted at the more affluent, from the 1930s and then mainly in
the post-war period transformed into a mass activity which opened the way to
intense urbanisation and a large number of ‘second homes’ for inhabitants of
the metropolitan area wishing to spend the weekend in the mountains.
This led to a new form of colonisation of the mountain by the city: the low
valley was directly included in the metropolitan expansion process, while the
high valley became a sort of seasonal ‘annex’ of the city of Turin. The rest of
the mountain area is subject to socioeconomic desertification (as can be seen in
the mid-altitude zones, the valleys and the areas unsuited to skiing activities)
or, as is particularly the case in the Susa Valley, the territory has been trans-
formed into a transport corridor between the city and the mountain and even
between the city and France, with a concentration of infrastructures which
weigh upon the environment without contributing to the development of the
area nor, greatly, to its accessibility, given that the long-distance communica-
tions system dominates the local communications system.
In this context, given the extraordinary influx of resources and the heavy
media visibility given to the event, the organisation of the Winter Olympics
would have been the opportunity for renewing relations between the city and
the mountain. However, as we shall see shortly, the Olympic experience was
not able to produce decisive change in this area. Hence, an evaluation of its
inheritance cannot avoid a distinction between Turin and the Valleys, with the
aim of identifying the advantages and disadvantages gained by each territory
from the Olympic event.

3.2 The local legacy of the Games

The ‘Olympic legacy’ concept, which, moreover, is loaded with elements of
ambiguity in addition to its undeniable analytical value, is almost always
expounded in literature in dualistic terms: tangible and intangible. The first
term concerns the fixed capital of the territory hosting an event which is
enriched (large containers for mass events, dedicated reception structures such
as Olympic and media villages, support infrastructure to improve accessibil-
ity and functional connections between the locations holding the event and
the outside world), while the second concerns elements of equal importance,
although more difficult to circumscribe and analyse, such as transformations
in the area’s image, the organisational skills which potentially remain in the
territory, governance capacity, increased tourism and business activity, a wel-
coming culture, a cosmopolitan spirit and others.10
 Egidio Dansero and Alfredo Mela 185

We shall therefore examine these two dimensions separately, maintaining

the distinction between the city and the mountains.
For Turin, the tangible legacy must be assessed taking equal account of the
direct effects of the Olympics on the territory (buildings and infrastructure
specially constructed for the Games) and the indirect effects (acceleration of
existing projects at the time of Turin’s Olympic bid).11
In terms of the direct effects, first of all, the legacy impacts the construction
of containers for sport and entertainment, in particular: the Ice Palace designed
by Isozaki (and then named PalaIsozaki), the Oval (for speed skating), another
new ice palace, the indoor Palavela designed by the world-renowned architect
Gae Aulenti (for ice-skating). After the end of the 2006 Winter Olympics, this
array of structures provides hospitality for important events, the most recent
of which were the world figure skating championships (22–28 March 2010),
held at the Palavela, with around 55,000 tickets sold and 2500 spectators from
abroad. On the whole, management of the array of Olympic structures (city
and mountain) by the post-Olympic company TOP12 can be considered effi-
cient. Its current a5m deficit is largely due not to Turin facilities, but to two
bobsled slopes in San Sicario, and ski jumps in Pragelato, two complexes which,
from the outset, were not expected to make a positive economic contribution.
After acquiring 70 per cent of TOP in 2009, the North American multinational
Live Nation set itself the objective of yielding profits within a year and a half.
Nevertheless, the prospects of developing sports-related tourism, despite the
contribution of the Olympic structures and the undeniable dynamism of the
organisers, are not particularly promising, as these clash with the overall nega-
tive trend in the Turin sport business sector, an activity which, in Italy, relies
mainly on team sports and above all, football.13
The Olympics also left Turin with new residential complexes, and structures
which boosted its reception facilities for university students. To some extent,
the new availability of housing has contributed to the demographic upturn in
the city,14 while the improved university buildings have made the city’s two

Table 11.1 Total investments for Torino 2006: values, sources and kinds (US$ million
at 2000 prices)

Law No. 285/ 2000 Other sources Total costs

Infrastructure 479 544 1023

Homes, offices and shopping areas 308 215 523
Sports facilities 631 23 654
Environmental protection infrastructures 7 1 8
Total 1425 768 2207 million
Of which private entities 155

Source: Bondonio and Campaniello, ‘Torino 2006: What Kind of Olympic Games Were They?’, 7.
186 Bringing the Mountains into the City: Turin 2006

universities (the University of Turin and the Polytechnic University) more

competitive, despite a period marked by crisis for Italian universities, linked to
the heavy contraction of public finances.15
In many ways, the indirect effects have been more important than the direct
effects. As often indicated in the literature on this topic, the legacy of an
Olympic event on its host city, in terms of its infrastructure, is highly variable
depending on its existing structures and the organisational choices made.16 In
the case of Turin, the Winter Games had a particular impact on accelerating
urban planning changes, devised and approved in 1995 through the Master
Plan. The plan involved the creation of a new north-south axis along the rail-
way line – the creation of a ‘Central Backbone’ by underground construction
of the lines and re-use by industry of the freed-up adjacent areas. This impres-
sive transformation of the city is still under way; however, the Olympic event
undoubtedly accelerated the completion of numerous segments of the works.
Likewise it provided the stimulus for creating the first metro line and subse-
quent planning of a second one.
In terms of the intangible legacy for Turin, by far the most striking aspect
is the improvement gained in the city’s image. In many ways, the Olympics
provided the opportunity of presenting Turin as an important international
city, thus modifying an image which had been rather weak and, more than
anything, was linked to an industrial characterisation of the city. In a survey
of articles published in 2009 in four international newspapers (the New York
Times, The Times, Le Monde, El País), Turin came in fourth place for the number
of mentions, after Rome, Milan and Venice, with a significant increase com-
pared to the previous year (⫹34.4 per cent).17 Nevertheless, it is important to
emphasise that this change in image is not necessarily destined to translate
into immediate economic benefits in terms of an increase in tourist flows. For
this to happen, an effective tourism policy is needed, capable of identifying
forms of tourism in which the city can genuinely specialise, and which defines
a sufficient level of demand and provides effective international promotion.
So far, however, tourist trends in Turin and the surrounding metropolitan area,
although positive, have not given tourism a fundamental role in the develop-
ment model of the city. Although the availability of accommodation rose in
Turin by 30.7 per cent between 2003 and 2007, only some tourist segments
have reaped significant benefits from this. Among these, the first place is held
by cultural tourism; however, this is counterbalanced by the difficulty of the
other segments, such as the fairs and conference segment (moreover, on its
decline on a national scale).
Again, in terms of the intangible aspects of the Olympic legacy, another
partly critical aspect concerns the presence of metropolitan-scale governance.
Recent research conducted on Turin’s élites showed that the city continuously
implements a system of coalitions which, in many ways, can be interpreted as
 Egidio Dansero and Alfredo Mela 187

a form of ‘urban regime’18 similar to that defined in international literature.19

However, the coalitions in question are composite in nature and their political
agendas only partly coincide. Indeed, there are three different proposals for the
city’s development model: the first is based on physical expansion of the city
and its property network; the second on the economy of knowledge and tech-
nological innovation; the third on the development of the tourist, cultural and
entertainment sector. Public decision-makers play an important role in each
of these proposals. On the one hand, organisation of the Games might have
provided the city with the opportunity to better define a single strategy for the
city towards private stakeholders, and on the other, to broaden governance to a
wider territorial area, strengthening cooperative links with the Alpine Valleys.
However, this opportunity was not taken and the Olympic governance
experience proved effective only at the stage in which the need to observe the
timing and standards requirements of the IOC obligated cooperation between
the operators involved. At the end of the Games, the coalitions created rapidly
dissolved and, in particular, the prospects for creating synergy between the city
and the mountain faded.
For a better understanding of this outcome, we need to introduce a few con-
siderations regarding the legacy of the Olympics for the Alpine areas involved.20
The positive tangible legacy for these areas mainly included the renewal of its
structures and infrastructures and an increase in road access. Alongside these
benefits, however, it is important to bear in mind the negative aspects, particu-
larly concerning the environmental impact of several works posing the prob-
lem of re-use, such as the ski jumps and the bobsled slopes already mentioned.
Above all, the development model for the mountain areas remains unvaried,
nor have there been changes in image. In the opinions of Alpine stakeholders,
gathered during a campaign of qualitative interviews conducted after the end
of the Games,21 there emerged a strong conviction that the central focus on
Turin during the Olympics largely obscured the image of the mountains, which
were present only as a generic and unspecified ‘backdrop’ to the city. This
contributed to heavily limiting the possible positive visibility impact received
by the entire area before and during the Olympics and, indirectly and after
the Games, furthered the already long consolidated tourism pigeonhole, based
totally on characterisation of a few resorts for ‘skiing holiday’ demand, and on
development of the property sector for the construction of buildings destined
as second homes for inhabitants of the metropolitan area.
This model has long been exposed to the heavy risk of a loss of appeal in the
near future, for a set of factors which range from climate changes, preference
trends among the young generations, and the growing competitiveness of
ski resorts further away from the metropolitan areas, but made more appeal-
ing by low-cost offers. Hence, a significant change in the type of tourist
offering seems to be needed, and the Olympic phase could have provided the
188 Bringing the Mountains into the City: Turin 2006

opportunity to stimulate this. This, however, would have meant abandoning a

path guaranteeing an income to part of the local population in favour of new
but uncertain roads. Hence, a wide project was needed, involving not only
the local institutions and stakeholders, but also a new alliance with the urban
government. This alliance, however, was sought by neither side with convic-
tion. As a consequence, the mountains continued to rely on a consolidated but
hard-to-sustain model while the city appears not to be interested in involving
the Alpine area in its search for a strategic vision for its development.

4 Conclusion: repercussions of the Turin Olympic Games

on the Olympic Movement

After analysing what may be considered the legacy complex for Turin and other
locations hosting the event, we will try to mirror the possible repercussions of
the Turin Games on the Olympic Movement.

4.1 Urban Winter Olympics: a new model for the IOC?

The first element, as already mentioned, concerns the urban dimension of the
games. Relating this to the three distinct phases proposed by Kovac,22 in analys-
ing the evolution of the urban Olympic model for the winter editions, after the
phase of concentration in a single mountain location (1924–1960), inaugurated
in Chamonix, the dimensions and complexity of the event grew considerably
in the second phase (1964–1988) and required the various benefits of medium
to large urban areas, although they were difficult to combine with the neces-
sary environmental conditions. Here we see the formation of multi-location
‘Olympic scenes’, with several locations within a multi-centre Olympic region,
highly focused on the host city (Grenoble, Sapporo, Sarajevo, Calgary).
In the third phase (1992–2006) the Olympic dimension continues to grow,
and we also see the affirmation of a multi-location Olympic model, with
greater emphasis on the key role of the city, which represents the heart of the
Olympic event, alongside the emergence of an overall network system for the
Olympic region, which comes out of the shadow cast by the choice of the IOC
to link the Olympics to the name of a location equipped with certain central
functions. In the case of Torino 2006, although apparently characterised by
a bipolar structure, the metropolitan component played a major role, which
ends up shadowing the important (in terms of image and economic terms)
Alpine tourist locations (Bardonecchia, Sauze d’Oulx, Cesana, Sestrieres) and
seems to herald a new phase of metropolitan Winter Olympics.

4.2 A strategy for mega-events

In the history of the Olympic movement, Barcelona 1992 is generally indi-
cated as a success story,23 for having included the Games in a wider strategic
 Egidio Dansero and Alfredo Mela 189

planning dimension. Despite the ambiguities, this can also be seen in the case
of Turin, which was able to count on the 1995 Master Plan and on the Strategic
Plan which was undergoing approval in 1999, when it had to be hurriedly
updated on news that the city had won its Olympic bid.
As we saw in section 3, for Turin the transformations generated by the Games
were more or less in line with the two plans cited, and served to catalyse and
accelerate transformations long decided before the Games. In this sense, this
may be seen as important capital for the IOC to confirm the need for a bidding
city to include its proposal in a strategic plan.
The situation for the mountain areas, on the other hand, is more prob-
lematic. The difficulties in post-Olympic management of two problematic
structures (bobsled slopes and ski jumps) should provide food for thought for
the IOC on the need to take responsibility for reducing the environmental,
economic and territorial impact of ‘white elephant’ structures. This might be
achieved by requiring the market of structure operators and constructors to
find temporary solutions at reasonable costs, by demanding that host locations
and nations use existing structures within a limited range right from the outset
of their bid, and finally, by reflecting on the point of whether to keep on the
Olympic sports list certain disciplines which, while entertaining and profit-
able in terms of television sales, have few practitioners and extremely high
economic and environmental costs.

4.3 Environmental governance

As we have discussed more widely in other publications,24 right from the bid-
ding stage, Torino 2006 was characterised, at least formally, by its heavy focus
on environmental aspects as well as social ones, with a proposal for responsible
Olympic Games and a document – known as the Olympic Green Card –
containing guidelines on how to organise sustainable Olympic Games.25
In this framework, we must add the key choice, after winning the bid,
to focus on the overall and strategic evaluation process of the Olympic
Programme. The national law approving the schedule of Olympic works (Law
285/2000 ‘Interventions for the Winter Olympics Torino 2006’),26 provided for
a Strategical Environmental Assessment (SEA) for the Olympic Programme.27
the first time this instrument was applied in Italy, in accordance with the
Ministry for the Environment. Unlike previous editions of the Winter Games28
there was a move away from a point-by-point assessment of the effects (the
conventional EIA performed for more problematic structures such as ski jumps
and bobsled slopes) to an overall evaluation of the project including the differ-
ent impacts on the environment, the economy and society.
Moreover, among the environmental instruments adopted, TOROC obtained
EMAS registration at the planning and construction stages for the 29 sites hosting
the Games, including the training sites and Turin Olympic Village, and adopted
190 Bringing the Mountains into the City: Turin 2006

Table 11.2 TOROC’s main environmental programs

TOROC’s Environment Department

Objective: According to SEA requirements, its task was to prepare the plans for
preventing environmental damage and monitoring the quality of the
environment:
Plans: • General plan for – inert refuse
– sustainable mobility
– employee and community safety
– the prevention of natural risks
– water management
• Environmental landscape plans
• Guidelines for the sustainability of the project, in the construction
and operation of the Olympic and Multimedia Villages
• Environmental Monitoring Plan, which evaluates the quality of the
environmental components from the building yard phase to
immediately after the event.

the ISO 14001 management system. In the valleys, eight municipalities registered
with EMAS and 12 accommodation structures were granted the Eco-label. Finally,
TOROC worked in collaboration with other local agencies and public institutions
to define sustainable procurement policies (choosing, for example, products that
obtained the Eco-label or natural-gas-powered vehicles) and to reduce gas emis-
sions to zero (HEritage Climate TORino – HECTOR – project).
Lastly, TOROC set up an Environmental Advisory Assembly. It was a body
provided for by TOROC’s Charter in article 8, ‘a place for consensus building’,29
where the projects were discussed prior to their approval by the Torino 2006
Agency. It was made up of representatives from 13 environmental associations
and ten local governmental institutions (Turin and mountain villages). From
the environmentalists’ perspective, the Assembly was a way to take into due
consideration right from the initial stages of the decision-making process the
environmental effects of Olympic infrastructuring.
A further element worthy of note was the drafting by TOROC, under pressure
from anti-globalisation movements and local environmentalists, of a ‘Charter
of Intent for social responsibility’, focused on the use of public funds for the
Olympics and security in the building yards.30
To conclude, we can say that Torino 2006 was a Games characterised by an
environmental governance policy, wide-reaching and careful in its formal
presentation, including regular reports on environmental sustainability.
However, this did not prevent a most serious impact, again in formal terms,
which should encourage the IOC to reflect on the unavoidable need to take
much more careful and deeper consideration of the heavy negative legacy in
environmental and, ultimately, economic terms.
 Egidio Dansero and Alfredo Mela 191

Notes
1. This paper forms part of the work carried out by OMERO (Olympics and Mega Events
Research Observatory), an inter-departmental research centre at Turin University,
which has raised considerations regarding the implications of major events in an
international comparison scenario, in terms of expectations, representations and con-
flicts associated with the Torino 2006 event and its potential legacy. See: Guala, ‘How
to Monitor Olympics. Longitudinal Surveys on Winter Olympics: Torino 2006’; Guala,
and Turco, ‘Resident Perceptions of the 2006 Torino Olympic Games – 2002–2007’;
Scamuzzi, ‘Winter Olympic Games in Turin: The Rising Weight of Public Opinion’;
Dansero et al., ‘Olympic Games, Conflicts and Social Movements: The Case of Torino
2006’; Bondonio and Campaniello, ‘Torino 2006: What Kind of Olympic Games Were
They? A Preliminary Account from an Organizational and Economic Perspective’;
Bondonio, ‘Torino, its Olympic Valleys and the Legacy: A Perspective’; Dansero and.
Mela, ‘Olympic Territorialization: The Case of Torino 2006’.
2. Mela and Davico, ‘L’interscambio migratorio del Comune di Torino. Caratteri
demografici, socioeconomici e spaziali’.
3. Bagnasco, Torino. Un Profilo Sociologico.
4. Conti and Giaccaria, Local Development and Competitiveness.
5. Vanolo, ‘The Image of the Creative City: Some Reflections on Urban Branding in
Turin’.
6. Whitford and Enrietti, ‘Surviving the Fall of a King. The Regional Implications of
Crisis at Fiat Auto’.
7. Saccomani, ‘The Preliminary Project of Turin’s Master Plan’.
8. In fact it is worth noting that, in Turin’s case (unlike Athens or Barcelona, for exam-
ple), none of the works to redevelop the city’s layout over the long term (the metro,
the Passante railway, the large ‘backbone’ works, urban and suburban development
actions) stemmed from the Olympic proposal. On the contrary, the Olympic works
were gently eased into the planning process that had already been approved and was
partly underway.
9. Pinson, ‘Political Government and Governance: Strategic Planning and the
Reshaping of Political Capacity in Turin’; Guala and Crivello, Mega-events and
Urban Regeneration. The Background and Numbers behind Turin 2006’; Governa et
al., ‘Torino. Urban Regeneration in a Post-industrial City’.
10. Cashman, ‘What is “Olympic Legacy”?’.
11. Bondonio, ‘Torino, its Olympic Valleys and the Legacy: A Perspective’; Bondonio
et al., ‘Torino 2006 OWG: any Legacies for IOC and Olympic Territories?’.
12. The Piedmont region undertook the initiative of establishing a Foundation with
public funds, but open to private shareholders, to manage the ‘Torino Olympic Park’
(TOP) facilities. The Foundation became fully operational in 2007. Its members are
the three local governments and the Italian Olympic Committee (CONI).
13. L’Eau Vive – Comitato Rota, Attraverso la crisi; Dansero and Puttilli, ‘Mega-events
Tourism Legacies: the Case of Torino 2006 Winter Olympic Games. A Territorialization
Approach’.
14. In fact, after a long period of continuous demographic decrease (1975–2001) at the
beginning of 21st century the city has showed a new increase: ⫹5.1 per cent between
2001 and 2008.
15. The total number of rooms for students showed an increase of 92.2 per cent between
2001 and 2008; this is the highest increase ratio for all Italian metropolitan cities;
L’Eau Vive – Comitato Rota, Attraverso la crisi.
192 Bringing the Mountains into the City: Turin 2006

16. Essex and Chalkley, ‘Mega-sporting Events in Urban and Regional Policy: A History
of the Winter Olympics’.
17. L’Eau Vive – Comitato Rota, Attraverso la crisi.
18. Belligni et al., ‘Regime urbano e coalizione di governo a Torino’.
19. Lauria, Reconstructing Urban Regime Theory. Regulating Urban Politics in a Global
Economy; Mossberger and Stoker, ‘The Evolution of Urban Regime Theory. The
Challenge of Conceptualization’.
20. Chappelet, ‘From Lake Placid to Salt Lake City: The Challenging Growth of the
Olympic Winter Games Since 1980’.
21. Dansero and Mela, ‘L’eredità dell’evento in una prospettiva territoriale. Riflessioni
teoriche e opinioni di testimoni qualificati’.
22. Kovac, ‘The Olympic Territory. A Way to an Ideal Olympic Scene’.
23. Chalkley and Essex, ‘Urban Development through Hosting International Events:
A History of the Olympic Games’.
24. Dansero et al., ‘Spatial and Environmental Transformations towards Torino 2006:
Planning the Legacy of the Future’; Dansero and Mela, ‘Olympic Territorialization:
The Case of Torino 2006’;. Dansero et al., ‘Torino 2006: Territorial and Environmental
Transformations’; Crivello et al., ‘Torino, the Valleys and the Olympic Legacy:
Exploring the Scenarios’.
25. TOROC, Bid File; TOROC, Greencard.
26. Law 285/2000 also defined different roles for the Torino Olympic Organizing
Committee (TOROC), a private body (but with the participation of public actors
such as national, regional and local governments) charged to organise the events,
managing private funds, and for the Agenzia Torino 2006, which was a public
body, with public funding, with the dual function of acting as a general contrac-
tor for the Olympic planned works and bearing responsibility for their timely
completion.
27. The IOC had asked TOROC to apply an experimental evaluation system which
the IOC itself was developing: OGGI (Olympic Games Global Impact). See Dubi
et al., ‘Olympic Games Management: From Candidature to the Final Evaluation, an
Integrated Management Approach’. However, after a brief comparison of the two
methods, TOROC opted for the SEA procedure, also due to the complexity of OGGI,
which had no regulatory basis, unlike SEA.
28. May, ‘Environmental Implications of the 1992 Winter Olympic Games’; Leonardsen,
‘Planning of Mega Events: Experiences and Lessons’.
29. Dansero et al., ‘Torino 2006: Territorial and Environmental Transformations’.
30. TOROC, Carta di Intenti in tema di responsabilità sociale.

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12
The Social and Spatial Impacts of
Olympic Image Construction:
The Case of Beijing 2008
Anne-Marie Broudehoux

The last few decades have witnessed a marked escalation in the attractiveness
of mega-events as tools of place-promotion, urban image construction and city
marketing. Cities looking for a competitive advantage in the mythical global
inter-urban competition perceive hosting high-profile, global-scale events as
an opportunity to reinvent their image and enhance their visibility. Hosting
mega-events is increasingly appealing as a means of urban redevelopment,
helping both finance and legitimate large-scale urban transformations and
infrastructure improvements. The sense of urgency stimulated by the fixed
deadline of these events often justifies the ‘fast-tracking’ of key projects, allow-
ing local governments to reprioritize the urban agenda while bypassing the
usual regulatory and consultative processes.1 Mega-events also represent oppor-
tunities for urban authorities to stimulate civic pride, revive local identity, and
to transform their cities’ human environment through social beautification
and disciplining programs. These events are often harnessed as powerful tools
of social engineering to transform both the body and the mind of the popula-
tion and produce a tame and obedient citizenry.2 The intense mediatisation of
mega-events and their rising role in city marketing and national boosterism
have placed citizen behaviour at the forefront for image-conscious civic
leaders, event organisers and international federations.
Staging mega-events can thus have a lasting impact upon the urban land-
scape, affecting both the social and spatial fabric of their host city. Hosting
large events like the Olympic Games generally promotes the construction of
an idealised image of the city, through various alterations, manipulations and
representations of objective reality, which seek to project the flawless vision
of an efficient, safe, clean, disciplined, well-managed and visually appealing
metropolis, befitting global expectations of modernity.
With the opening of China to the world, the Chinese leadership has been
increasingly involved in the staging of national and international-scale events,
and developed an expertise in putting cities and their residents in the best

195
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
196 The Social and Spatial Impacts of Olympic Image Construction: Beijing 2008

possible light, through a now familiar scenario that combines urban and social
beautification interventions.3 The 2008 Beijing Olympic Games provided a
rich opportunity to refine this scenario and to use the opportunity and global
visibility afforded by the Olympics to demonstrate China’s progress and
emergence as a major world player.
These image-building initiatives served several goals. Internally, they sought
to create a more appealing, efficient and harmonious urban landscape and
a more convivial, law-abiding, and orderly urban culture, to help achieve
social stability, in a period of rising volatility and insecurity. They also served a
deeper political purpose, sustaining long-term attempts to link China’s success-
ful Olympics bid to ongoing efforts to maintain the political credibility of the
Chinese Communist Party and the legitimacy of the political system it
represents.4
Externally, these programs also sought to improve China’s image as a rising
world power. Just as Beijing’s shiny new buildings and modern infrastructure
helped project the image of a forward-looking, progressive modern society
committed to capitalism; well-mannered and disciplined citizens also strength-
ened the image of Beijing as a 21st-century world metropolis. This image was
not only aimed at the thousands of foreign visitors who would tour the city
during the Games, but it also targeted potential investors with the reassuring
image of a content, docile and obedient workforce and of a stable and well-
managed society that could sustain business confidence.
Furthermore, China’s Olympic landscape both embodies and participates in
the ‘harmonious society’ discourse that dominates current state ideology, and
which seeks to reconcile the requirements of a market economy with the short-
comings of a two-digit economic growth predicated upon social inequality and
exploitation. This discourse addresses the rising discontent of those who feel
slighted by the new system and need to be pacified through repeated calls for
social harmony. It seeks to render growing disparities acceptable, while conceal-
ing the fact that they are both the fruit and the condition of China’s fantastic
growth. Harmony was, not surprisingly, the main code word for the Olympic
Games and the dominant theme of Beijing’s image-construction process.
This analysis of the elaborate and multi-faceted strategies developed in pre-
Olympic Beijing to transform the global perception of the city and its inhabi-
tants provides insights into some of the true legacies of the 2008 Olympic
Games. It explores two dimensions of the image-construction process initiated
prior to Beijing’s Olympic Games: one concerned with the visual image of the
city, conveyed by the very materiality of its landscape; the other involved with
the social image of Beijing, manifest in the behaviour of its population. It details
some of the initiative undertaken by local authorities and supported by Olympic
organisers in building, transforming and controlling the image of the city. It also
highlights some of the consequences of such image-driven interventions, which
 Anne-Marie Broudehoux 197

too often serve the specific requirements of a short-term event and the desires
and expectations of its organisers, sponsors and supporters, at the expense of
the needs, interests and priorities of local citizens.

Physical image construction and spatial interventions

After winning its Olympic bid in 2001, Beijing embarked on an unparalleled

urban redevelopment program, under the slogan ‘using the Olympics to pro-
mote development, using development to help the Olympics’.5 Projects included
the expansion of road networks and public transportation facilities, basic infra-
structure (electricity, water and gas provision, sewerage system, communication)
and the relocation of polluting factories. Other investments concerned public
parks, waterway revitalisation, historic conservation, neighbourhood renewal,
cultural and sport facilities, as well as tourism-related services.
The cost of these ambitious projects was proportional to their monumental
scale. Like other Olympic cities, Beijing faced a massive escalation in Olympic
spending. From an initial $14 billion during the bidding process, the estimate
was raised to $30 billion after the Games were secured in 2001. The final, post-
game evaluation of Olympic spending is $43 billion, three times the initial
estimate, and more than triple the cost of the previous (and most expensive)
Olympics in Athens. Beijing’s spending patterns were not significantly dif-
ferent from previous host cities, with the bulk of expenditure going to infra-
structure projects. While part of this increase can be imparted to inflation, the
rising costs of security and increasing competitiveness among bid cities, it also
reflects the symbolic importance of this event for the Chinese nation and its
determination to host a flawless, memorable event.
The most conspicuous part of Beijing’s Olympic image construction involved
several iconic architectural projects, which included the construction of 12
new Olympic venues, the world’s largest airport terminal, several monumental
cultural projects, as well as important neighbourhood renewal initiatives.6
These projects played an important part in the spectacularisation of the city’s
urban landscape, capitalising upon the power of architecture as a source of
symbolic capital to capture a semiotic advantage over rival destinations.7
Beijing’s Olympic projects were clearly designed to maximise their visual
appeal and media impact. Designed to be seen on giant screens from a
helicopter’s point of view, these superlative structures testify both to the ris-
ing power of global television in staging mega-events and to the desire of the
Chinese state to use the Olympics to update its own image, consolidate its
stature and reinscribe its power into the urban landscape.
Rarely had such an attempt at architectural branding been so successful: the
Bird’s Nest for example, Beijing’s striking Olympic stadium, attained instant
iconic status thanks to its great imageability. The building was universally
198 The Social and Spatial Impacts of Olympic Image Construction: Beijing 2008

adopted as a logo, a visual shorthand representing both the city, the Olympics
and the promises of a bright future for China. It is recognised worldwide as one
of the most photogenic Olympic monuments ever built.
Very early on in the construction process, local critics voiced their con-
cerns about the sustainability of such extravaganzas, whose functionality and
durability appeared secondary to their advertising potential. Questions about
the future public accessibility and financial viability of these expensive, state-
funded projects were also raised.8 Olympic organisers had vowed to place post-
Olympic use at the top of their agenda and promised that 12 of the 31 Olympic
venues would be open to the public after the Games.9 But in reality, venues
proved difficult to convert to community uses and many have been sitting idle
since the closing ceremonies, waiting to be converted into private sporting,
entertainment or shopping facilities. Most venues have been privatised, and
only those that were already accessible for community uses before the games
have maintained their public accessibility.10
Built at the cost of $450 million, and costing over $9 million in annual
maintenance fees, Beijing’s iconic Olympic stadium is among the projects still
looking for a use.11 In all of 2009, only one event was held at the stadium:
two representations of Puccini’s Turandot opera, staged by Zhang Yimou, the
star filmmaker behind the 2008 opening ceremonies. The building has, how-
ever, been much more successful as a tourist attraction, drawing 80,000 daily
admissions in the months following the Games. In January 2009, the stadium’s
administrator, the state-owned investment company Citic Group, announced
its plans to transform the stadium into a shopping and entertainment complex
over the next five years. The company, which has already opened a 50,000
square metre amusement park on the portion of the Olympic Park bordering
the north-eastern side of the stadium, will continue to develop the tourist func-
tion of the stadium, while seeking sports and entertainment events.
City-wide urban beautification efforts did not stop at the construction of
modern infrastructure, spectacular venues and cultural facilities but also included
other image-related initiatives. Described in internet blogs as ‘face projects’, these
were said to be driven by a desire to show the city in the best possible light, even if
it meant camouflaging reality. Physical signs of poverty and backwardness, which
could dispel China’s newly proclaimed prosperity and modernity, were carefully
concealed. Of course, such are practices of image construction commonly used
by Olympic host cities, as was the case in both Calgary and Seoul in 1988. They
also figure among the Chinese capital’s long-established ‘potemkinist’ tradition,
used at the occasion of national anniversaries and important visits from foreign
dignitaries to project a more favourable image of the city.12
In Beijing, construction sites and derelict partly demolished neighbourhoods
were hidden behind newly erected brick walls, hedges or billboards. Between
2007 and 2008, over 20,000 buildings located along the city’s main thoroughfares
 Anne-Marie Broudehoux 199

received a fresh coat of paint and had their broken windows replaced on the
façades that were visible from the road. Similarly, 1800 apartment buildings from
the 1960s and 1970s had their flat tops replaced by more picturesque sloping
roofs. Many ‘instant’ green spaces, which sought to give Beijing the appearance
of a ‘green’ city, were created by putting lawns on empty lots and on sites where
illegal buildings and shantytowns were razed. The restoration of part of the city’s
canal system and the creation of a three-kilometre long dragon-shaped lake at
the heart of the Olympic Park also tried to give Beijing, a city historically sub-
jected to acute droughts and water shortages, the appearance of a capital where
water flowed widely. Since most of the city’s water sources were too heavily pol-
luted at the time the Olympics were held, the lake and canals had to be filled
with fresh water pumped from the greatly depleted ground water table.13
Olympic image construction initiatives had enormous social impacts and
their long-term costs were largely borne by some of China’s most vulnerable
population groups. Beijing’s capacity to finance these spectacular projects,
built at a tenth of their equivalent cost in Europe, depended upon the exploi-
tation of a vast, pliant, and disposable migrant labour force, whose rights
were routinely violated. Working long hours in dangerous conditions without
adequate safeguards, they received few legally mandated benefits while suffer-
ing significant pay arrears.14
Olympic projects also caused large-scale forced evictions and displacements,
and the repression of housing rights defenders. Once again, these practices are
not unique to Beijing but have become an unfortunate feature of the hosting of
all mega-events, and not only of those located in emerging or developing coun-
tries. However, there is no doubt that the Beijing Olympiad holds a historical
record in terms of eviction and displacement. The Geneva-based Centre on
Housing Rights and Eviction (COHRE) estimates that between 2001 and 2008,
1.5 million citizens were uprooted and saw their homes demolished to make
way for Olympic facilities and infrastructure projects, often without adequate
compensation.15 Not only have Olympic preparations accelerated the rate of
urban redevelopment and caused a surge in evictions, but the added pressure
exerted by the tight cut-off date also justified some of the ruthless ways in
which some of these evictions were carried out.16
If some families improved their living conditions as a result of their reloca-
tion, others suffered economic, social and psychological hardships. Olympic
image construction had a direct impact on the livelihood of economically
and socially marginalised groups in Beijing, accelerating a process of down-
ward mobility that had appeared since the beginning of the Reforms in 1978.
COHRE estimated that one out of five people displaced by Olympic projects, or
an annual average of 33,000 since 2001, were impoverished as a result of their
relocation and suffered a significant deterioration in their living conditions
and life opportunities.17 Displaced Beijingers faced increased costs of living
200 The Social and Spatial Impacts of Olympic Image Construction: Beijing 2008

due to relocation to the city’s outlying suburbs, away from schools, jobs and
basic services. In the absence of public transportation, many had to cope with
increased transportation costs and commuting time to be able to earn a living.
Olympic redevelopment not only worsened some people’s living conditions
but it also made them more vulnerable to abuse and exploitation. The massive
displacement of the underprivileged from the city centre weakened community
ties and made it difficult to rebuild social networks for mutual assistance. The
important social dislocation that resulted from people’s dispersal to outlying
suburbs diminished their capacity to organise and to fight for their rights.
Olympic redevelopment also reduced the affordable housing stock and caused
property prices around Olympic projects to rise dramatically, making it ever
more difficult for the less privileged to live near the city centre.
Olympic transformations carried lasting impacts on Beijing’s urban structure,
deeply affecting its socio-spatial configuration. The concentration of invest-
ments in certain sectors of the city exacerbated pre-existing inequalities and
reinforced old hierarchies, consolidating the status of these areas, especially
the city centre, as the private preserve of the rich and powerful. While poor
inner-city residents suffered massive displacement to accommodate Olympic
projects, many among the city’s most affluent benefited from Olympic invest-
ments. This is the case of the residents of Wangjing, a neighbourhood located
in Beijing’s Chaoyang district, which, even before the Olympics, already
represented one of the most desirable and expensive places to live in China.
Housing a majority of young professionals, white-collar workers and expatriate
families (75 per cent of whom earn 10 times the city’s average annual house-
hold income). Wangjing is located between the fourth and fifth ring-roads, just
East of the Olympic Park, with easy access to both Beijing’s CBD and Beijing’s
International Airport.18
Wangjing would benefit greatly from the infrastructure projects built for the
2008 Olympics.19 Among those projects were the completion of the fifth ring road
as well as the new Capital Airport expressway, bordering the neighbourhood’s
northern and eastern edges respectively. The construction of the new light-rail
line (number 13) built along the western edge of the neighbourhood also widely
improved accessibility while connecting the area to the university district and to
the high-tech industry hub of Zhongguancun. Apart from the proximity to the
prestigious Olympic sites and new Olympic Park, the construction of these new
pieces of transportation infrastructure have greatly improved the area’s quality of
life and desirability, thus impacting favourably on property values.20

Social image construction: civilising Beijing

Beijing’s Olympic image construction efforts were not limited to architecture,

landscaping and infrastructure projects but also included a series of social
 Anne-Marie Broudehoux 201

engineering programmes, which sought to show the world that China had
not only developed economically, but socially and culturally as well. Beijing
Olympic organisers and civic leaders perceived the Games as an opportunity
for societal advancement, a stage for popular acculturation into global cosmo-
politan society, and an occasion to promote state-sanctioned ideals of behav-
iour. The momentum and civic pride attached to hosting the Olympic Games
helped hasten the pursuit of a civilisation campaign initiated in the 1990s
that sought to turn Beijing residents into well-disciplined representatives of
21st-century China.21
Part of Beijing’s Olympic preparation thus involved an important programme
for reforming the demeanour of Beijing residents, as both hosts and partici-
pants, and to transform them into well-mannered, modern Chinese citizens.
With a budget of $2.5 million from the Beijing Organizing Committee of the
Olympic Games (BOCOG), the Capital Ethics Development Committee was
charged with ‘raising the quality and civilization level’ of the city’s 15 million
inhabitants, and ensuring they were on their best behaviour for the event.22
Once again, it is not atypical for Olympic cities to issue guidelines about
appropriate behaviour during the event or directions about cheering, dress
and deportment. Authorities in both Vancouver and London have distributed
instructions to tourism industry workers and municipal employees detailing
proper etiquette during the Olympics, especially regarding the hosting of for-
eign guests. However, Beijing’s Olympic civilisation program was far more elab-
orate, multifaceted and invasive and included a more formal level of training
and a greater level of popular involvement. This civilisation campaign rested
upon three main approaches: the first was ideological, based on the orches-
tration of a ubiquitous official discourse promoting self-reform. The second
promoted social change through embodied practices and active participation.
The third approach was coercive, and focused on the tightening of security, by
limiting freedom of movement and restricting public accessibility.
Authorities first turned to propaganda, mass persuasion techniques and dis-
cursive strategies to engineer a consensus around the campaign and to invite
popular participation, using nationalism, patriotism, self-sacrifice and volun-
tarism as means of enticement. In the two years leading to the Olympics, the
Beijing population was relentlessly bombarded with public interest messages,
using media saturation as a tool of mass communication and indoctrination.23
Olympic messages and slogans were seen and heard on billboards throughout
the city, at bus stops, in classrooms, in all forms of public offices, in the print
media, on television and on the internet, which were infused with a mix of
political and moral discourse.24
To ensure popular compliance with the civilising programme, the discourse
emanating from Olympic promotional material was infused with nationalist
rhetoric, to the point that the nation and the Olympics became indissociable
202 The Social and Spatial Impacts of Olympic Image Construction: Beijing 2008

in the collective imagination and that serving one meant serving the other.
Citizens were exhorted to help China rise to greatness by changing their
behaviour and improving their manners with complete devotion. In Beijing,
embracing the Olympics was not only a civic duty, but a patriotic gesture and
a contribution to the advancement of the motherland. By extension, non-
compliance with social reforms became anti-patriotic.25
If much of the civilising process rested upon propaganda and discourse, the
main mode of operation of this reform movement was performative, and rested
upon a vast public education program predicated upon embodied practices. The
way people spoke, dressed, stood in line, cheered at events and carried them-
selves in public were all considered important measures of Olympic success.
Anti-social behaviours such as spitting, queue jumping, jaywalking, hawking,
swearing and smoking were specifically targeted. Focusing on manners, personal
hygiene, civility, morality, sports ethics and respect for law and order, public
education programs instructed citizens on the correct use of public toilets, urged
them to speak proper Mandarin, to learn English, and to smile more.
In Beijing, embracing the Games therefore became an embodied engagement
to transform oneself and embrace Olympic civilisation ideals on a daily basis.
It was through active participation in state-sponsored activities that both the
body and mind of the population would be transformed, and state-sanctioned
norms of behaviour internalised. People were encouraged to actively partici-
pate in the continuous flow of Olympic education activities that relentlessly
punctuated the years leading to the Olympics.
Sport etiquette was an important area of concern. Etiquette and sportsman-
ship campaigns were conducted to educate the Beijing public, focusing on
keeping overly nationalist partisanship in check. These efforts came as a result
of several incidents when local fans displayed anti-social behaviour against
foreign teams in international competitions, which also led to the adoption of
a law banning hooliganism in 2006. Aware of the tenuous line between pro-
moting national pride and fostering xenophobic behaviour, the party sought
to control and channel nationalist impulses at Olympic events by civilising
popular expressions of support. Strict instructions about proper cheering
behaviour (including cheering for non-Chinese teams) and appropriate hand
gestures were issued.26
One of the most effective ways to encourage proper behaviour was to preach
by example. Much of the Olympic civilisation program thus rested upon the
production of idealised citizens, presented as social models to be emulated.
Olympic propaganda made profuse use of movie stars like Jackie Chan and
Andy Lau, and sports personalities like hurdler Liu Xiang and basketballer
Yao Ming, to personify the ideals of Olympic civilisation. These celebrities
served both as proud bearers of the Olympic brand and as social models of
virtue and were erected as national heroes and icons of civility.
 Anne-Marie Broudehoux 203

Other, more ordinary heroes were also promoted to the status of iconic social
models. Olympic volunteers held a central position in Olympic propaganda.
Images of the selfless Olympic volunteer, idealised for his ethics, hard work and
desire to raise pride in the nation, dominated Beijing’s pre-Olympic landscape
and sought to uplift the national psyche and to inspire citizens by their loy-
alty and dedication to the motherland. Volunteerism had been on the rise in
China in the years preceding the Games, fuelled in part by the new humanist
vision promoted by the harmonious society doctrine.27 As the Olympics grew
near, volunteering, an important Olympic tradition, became a trend, especially
among university students, with record breaking numbers of applicants.28
Overall, 470,000 volunteers selected among more than two million candidates
would serve the Olympic spectacle, not only with their devotion, but with their
unpaid labour as well, acting as Olympic village drivers, stadium ushers, field
‘gofers’, media runners, ceremony performers, escorts, tour guides, traffic super-
visors and interpreters.29 Required to be fluent in foreign languages, they were
subjected to series of rigorous theoretical and physical examinations and received
extensive training in proper etiquette, protocol, first aid and basic security.
Members of the city’s numerous local residents’ associations ( juweihui),
which represent the lowest level of the Chinese party-state, constituted another
important portion of urban volunteers. As a central feature in the socialist
tradition of voluntarism, neighbourhood committees have long played a role
in the maintenance of social and political peace inside residential neighbour-
hoods, while giving a social responsibility to the retired and elderly.30 During
the 2008 event, older men and women, wearing Olympic shirts and hats along
with the red armbands marking their volunteer status, acted as surveillance
agents, patrolling the neighbourhoods, watching for trouble from protesters or
dissidents, and reporting suspicious behaviour, thereby contributing in their
own way to the state’s elaborate surveillance system.
The civilising process helped constitute the ideal socialist citizen as an
iconic sign, contributing to both national and urban image construction. As
the incarnation of the multitude, and representatives of the nation, Olympic
volunteers played a central role in the creation of a particular vision of what a
citizen of modern socialist China should be. As a corollary, those who failed to
comply with this ideal brought into question their very belonging to Chinese
society and were denied representation as valued citizens. The Olympic civili-
sation project thus allowed for the discursive construction of certain members
of society as uncivilised, and reinforced the perception of them as unworthy
of citizenship. By cautioning social norms that reinforce inequality and dis-
tinction, it justified the consolidation of re-emerging forms of hierarchies and
power disparities in Chinese society.
Conspicuously absent from Olympic propaganda and marketing brochures
were Beijing’s mass of migrant workers, estimated at four million, who were the
204 The Social and Spatial Impacts of Olympic Image Construction: Beijing 2008

main target of this civilisation campaign, and were discursively constructed as

a major threat to the image of civilised modernity conceived for the Games.
Their crude manners, coarse language and unhygienic habits – often the result
of their own destitution, exploitation and limited access to education – were
taken as proof of their need for reform. Routinely accused of tarnishing the
city’s image, they were blamed for Beijing’s deteriorating civilisation level and
rising criminality.
The effects of this exclusion from collective representation are tangible. The
ideological construction of the migrant as uncivilised, dangerous and patho-
logical has helped naturalise his subordination and exploitation and devaluate
his labour. Marking the migrant as structurally irrelevant also helped justify his
further abuse and legitimate his exclusion from full citizenship rights. As the
constitutive other of civilized urbanites, against whom the latter can construct
their own cosmopolitan identity,31 the migrant was made unworthy of equal
rights and opportunities in the city.
A last aspect of the Olympic civilisation programme concerned public
order and security, an area now considered of paramount importance by the
International Olympic Committee. With a security budget of over $2 billion,
double that of Athens 2004, Beijing mobilized a 150,000-strong anti-terrorism
force that included commandos and other military units equipped with
surface-to-air missiles and military aircraft. Over 80,000 policemen, secu-
rity agents and other peacekeepers provided added security and increased
surveillance.32 Citizens were subjected to intense scrutiny, with the use of over
300,000 surveillance cameras and other, innovative surveillance technologies
which allowed state surveillance to reach into the private realm.33
Security became a code word for social control and was used to justify the
imposition of strict public order. Months prior to the Games, Beijing authori-
ties launched a preventive anti-crime campaign to ensure that crime rates
stayed as low as possible before and during the Olympics, targeting vagrancy,
begging, prostitution and other illicit activities. These actions clearly stemmed
as much from an image construction imperative as from a security concern and
were meant to ensure that undesirable social elements would not ruin costly
image-construction efforts.
Many local residents who did not fit the image of the civilised Beijing citizen
were carefully hidden from view. For the duration of the Olympic events,
Beijing became an urban fortress, protected by a series of filters that control-
led access and determined who would be granted the ‘right to be seen’.34 In
order to create a ‘safe and harmonious security environment’ and to preserve
the image of a city unburdened by poverty, Chinese authorities began enforc-
ing residence permit (hukou) regulations, after having turned a blind eye to
illegal residents for many years. Migrants were subjected to diverse forms of
harassment, including mass identification checks, the confiscation of the tools
of their trade, and the destruction of illegal schools and homes. Those found
 Anne-Marie Broudehoux 205

without Beijing residence permits were fined, forcibly expelled from the city or
sent to detention centres and re-education work camps. Police sweeps were also
conducted on the streets of the capital. Beggars, street children, the homeless
and other conspicuous indigents were picked up at train stations, pedestrian
underpasses, railway bridges and other hideouts, to be placed in relief centres
on the city’s outskirts, or in custody and repatriation camps, before being
exiled back to their home town.
The criminalisation of informal activities, with the banning of unlicensed
taxis, sidewalk vending, peddling and hawking, furthered the victimisation
of migrants who were rendered ‘illegal’ in the name of order and security. In
spite of their great contribution to Olympic image construction, through their
labour as construction workers, street sweepers or garbage collectors, most
migrants were thus barred from active participation in the Olympic celebra-
tions, even as simple bystanders. Innumerable informal businesses were closed,
and for the duration of the event the contribution of these workers to the city’s
economy was obviated by their absence.

Conclusion: the social and spatial impacts of Olympic

image construction

The 2008 Olympiad played an important part in the reinvention of post-

socialist Beijing and will leave a lasting mark upon the city’s social, political
and urban landscape. In Beijing, the Olympics acted as a developmental
engine, legitimating, accelerating and catalysing large-scale urban transforma-
tions. The Olympics also helped intensify the civilisation process that has long
accompanied processes of modernisation and globalisation.
The article underlined the important political implications carried by mega-
events and underscored the role of these events in the organisation of social
stratification and domination. In many ways, Beijing’s Olympic transforma-
tions have worsened the profound inequalities that have come to epitomise
China’s transition to capitalism and widened the social, economic and spatial
divide. By causing massive displacement from the city centre and concentra-
ting capital in certain sectors of the city, Olympic redevelopment exacerbated
pre-existing socio-spatial polarisation, and disenfranchised Beijing’s new
poor while allowing its new rich to expand their control over the urban core.
Olympic-related image construction also promoted social exclusion, especially
in its urban sanitisation and beautification campaigns that arbitrarily targeted,
criminalised or simply camouflaged those deemed detrimental to the city’s
positive image or threatening to the smooth realisation of the event. These
campaigns deeply affected both participation and representation in public life,
and helped redefine the terms of belonging to society, including the norms and
conditions of citizenship. By promoting social exclusion, a tightening of the
social control apparatus, and the imposition of limits on civil liberties, Olympic
206 The Social and Spatial Impacts of Olympic Image Construction: Beijing 2008

image construction compromised basic rights and freedoms, including the

right to the city and the right to be seen.
The article also emphasised the important role of Olympic image construc-
tion in the consolidation of state ideology, through the materialisation of an
idealised – that is, harmonious – representation of Chinese society. By carefully
erasing visible signs of the failure of the economic miracle to benefit all segments
of Chinese society and projecting the constructed reality of an economically
successful, socially disciplined, well-functioning society, unmarred by inequali-
ties, poverty and decay, Olympic image construction helped consolidate the
‘harmonious society’ doctrine that stands at the heart of current state ideology.
Finally, the article illustrated the major part played by mega-events in the
planned management and control of human activity. In Beijing, the Olympics
acted as an instrument of state control to help achieve social stability, in a
period of rising volatility and insecurity. The Olympic civilisation campaign
not only served as a tool of persuasion to rally popular support for the Games
and compliance with the associated programs of social reforms and control,
but it was also designed as an opportunity for a major propaganda effort to
build national pride, reinforce political allegiance and gain popular consent
for the continuance of CCP rule. Olympic image construction was thus instru-
mentalised as a political tool of legitimation. It was also part of the theatrics
used by the Chinese state to maximise its visibility and pervasive presence in
everyday life, and to reinscribe its power into Beijing’s urban landscape.

Notes
1. Chalkey and Essex, ‘Urban Development through Hosting International Events:
A History of the Olympic Games’.
2. Broudehoux, ‘Civilizing Beijing: Social Beautification, Civility, and Citizenship at the
2008 Olympics’; Broudehoux. The Making and Selling of Post-Mao Beijing; Lenskyj, The
Best Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of Sydney 2000.
3. Broudehoux. Making and Selling.
4. Brady, ‘The Beijing Olympics as a Campaign of Mass Distraction’.
5. Beijing 2008, ‘Olympic Action Plan. Strategic Conception’.
6. These projects include the National Center for the Performing Arts, the Chinese
Central Television headquarters and the newly expanded National History Museum
as well as the transformation of the Qianmen and Sanlitun neighbourhoods. This
impressive transformation was supplemented by the erection of eight temporary
ones and the refurbishing of 11 existing ones, 50 training venues and related facili-
ties, a 42-building athletes’ village and a 16-building media village.
7. Julier, ‘Urban Designscapes and the Production of Aesthetic Consent’.
8. Broudehoux, ‘Spectacular Beijing: The Conspicuous Construction of an Olympic
Metropolis’.
9. According to Zhao Rui’s 6 April 2007 China Daily article entitled ‘Beijing: We’ll Avoid
White Elephants’ (p. 22), in 2007, the city government announced a three-year, $62.7
million budget to ensure that the sporting venues would not lie empty after the Games.
 Anne-Marie Broudehoux 207

10. The iconic Olympic Swim Centre or Water Cube, financed mainly by members of
the Chinese diaspora, was turned into the National Aquatics Center, a private swim-
ming, shopping and entertainment centre, accessible to paying costumers. Global
corporations seeking to advertise their products to the Chinese market also use
the Centre to hold promotional events. The Centre should soon house an upscale,
exclusive members-only pool and spa, along with a more popular aquatic park with
wave pool.
The Wukesong Culture and Sports Centre is another example. Although post-
Games usage had been a major concern of the corporation managing the project ever
since the project broke ground in March 2005, the venue, which hosted basketball
competitions during the Olympics, was left unused after the Games.
11. The stadium was to serve as the home field of the Guo’an, Beijing’s professional
football team, and to host international athletic championships and mega-concerts.
But the team broke its agreement, citing the embarrassment of using an 80,000-seat
venue for games that routinely draw little more than 10,000 people. By May 2010,
the Bird’s Nest was home to no team and there were few demands to use the stadium
for concerts or high-standing promotional events.
12. Potemkinism can be defined as the construction and manipulation of place images
as a means by which viewers are integrated into spaces of illusion. For more on
Beijing and potemkinism, see Broudehoux, Making and Selling.
13. Tubieff, ‘Eau: Où est-elle donc passée?’.
14. According to a Toronto Globe and Mail report by Geoffrey York, ‘Olympic Preparations
Curb Capital’s Freewheeling Spirit’ (27 June 2008, A17), labour rights organisa-
tions value unpaid migrant salaries at more than a billion dollars and estimate that
72 per cent of construction workers suffered from pay arrears.
15. Over the period between 2006 and 2008, an average of 60,000 homes were demol-
ished each year, some 13,000 a month. Although not all households were forcibly
and unfairly displaced, COHRE estimates that one out of five were. COHRE. One
World, Whose Dream? Housing Rights Violations and the Beijing Olympic Games, 157.
16. COHRE calculates that the eviction rate for the 2000–2008 Olympic preparation
period is nearly 2.3 times higher than the average for the 1991–1999 period, going
from an average of 70,000 people per annum to about 165,000 people a year.
COHRE, One World, 161.
17. COHRE, One World.
18. Bao, ‘The Impact of the 2008 Olympic Games on Residential Property Prices in
Wangjing, Beijing’.
19. A large proportion of Olympic redevelopment expenditure ($26 billion) was spent
on transportation infrastructure, including both rapid mass transit and motorway
development, with the construction of 578km of expressway and the expansion of
the concentric ring-road system. Major investments were made to improve the city’s
underdeveloped public transportation network, long neglected by policies which
prioritised road infrastructure and encouraged private car ownership. From the
city’s only two subway lines in 2002, three more were built for the Olympics, add-
ing nearly 160km of rail to the network. Projects included the creation of the new
Xizhimen interchange, an important node between light rail and subway and buses
built to handle 300,000 passengers a day. Bonneau, ‘L’envers du décor’.
20. Bao, ‘Impact of the 2008 Olympic Games’, 85–86.
21. Broudehoux, ‘Civilizing Beijing’.
22. This Olympic civilisation programme was overseen by three main agencies with close
links to the central government’s propaganda apparatus: the Central Propaganda
208 The Social and Spatial Impacts of Olympic Image Construction: Beijing 2008

Department, the Central Office of Spiritual Civilization and BOCOG. Since 2005,
BOCOG has been headed by Liu Peng, who had been deputy director of the Central
Propaganda Department from 1997 to 2002. Liu was also concurrently head of the
State General Administration of Sports, which is under the guidance of the Central
Propaganda Department. BOCOG itself has its own propaganda bureau, led by offi-
cials who concurrently head the propaganda sections of the Beijing Party Committee
and the State General Administration of Sports. Brady, ‘The Beijing Olympics as
a Campaign of Mass Distraction’, 1–24. Olympic civilisation programs would be
implemented through the concerted action of diverse levels of government – at the
national, local and neighbourhood level – with the support of Olympic authorities.
23. Brady, ‘Mass Distraction’, 1–24.
24. Beijing’s Capital Ethics Development Office also published a series of handbooks
and pamphlets on etiquette, civility and sports ethics, freely distributed throughout
the city.
25. It would not be the first time the Olympics were used for patriotic construction.
Without having to go back to the 1936 Berlin Games, Helen Lenskyj demonstrates
how Olympic protesters in Sydney were dismissed as ‘UnAustralian’. Lenskyj, The
Best Olympics Ever?. More recently, the 2010 Vancouver Winter Games unleashed a
widespread yet rarely seen sense of civic and national pride throughout Canada.
26. In the months leading to the Games, Olympic cheering practice sessions were held
for workers around Beijing to learn the state-sanctioned ‘Zhongguo Jiayou’ (Add
Fuel China!) and a cartoon illustrating the official civilised hand gesture (clap twice,
thumbs-up, clap twice again, punch the air with both fists) was widely distributed
and published in local newspapers.
27. In the Mao years, volunteering formed an essential role in the social and physical
construction of socialist China. It fell out of favour in the 1980s, in reaction to the
excesses of the Mao years. Since 2005, the CCP is again advocating volunteering, but
in a state-managed form rather than through independent civil society movements.
The outpouring of volunteer help in response to the May 2008 Sichuan earthquake,
when people rushed to lend a hand rather than to wait for the party and its army to
take command, testifies to this new trend. Bonneau, Pékin 2008, 1–12.
28. The previous record for the number of volunteers serving the Olympic Games was
held by Athens (2004), when 45,000 volunteers were chosen from 160,000 candi-
dates. Bonneau, ‘L’envers du décor’, 34–63.
29. Ibid., 34–63.
30. Bobin and Wang, Pékin en mouvement. Des innovateurs dans la ville.
31. Anagnost. National Past-times: Narratives, Representation and Power in Modern China,
81–82.
32. Bonneau, ‘L’envers du décor’.
33. According to Martin Zhou, Peter Simpson and Josephine Ma in their South
China Morning Post article entitled ‘Spectators Kept Away from Games Area’
(9 August 2008, 4), sophisticated new technology enabled the government to keep
tabs on private electronic devices. Mobile phones and the internet, often portrayed
as instruments of liberation in post-Mao China, were turned into instruments of
control and tools of civilisation, as mass SMS messages were routinely sent to Beijing
residents to remind them to adopt a civilised demeanour.
34. Mitchell, ‘The End of Public Space? People’s Park, Definitions of the Public, and
Democracy’.
 Anne-Marie Broudehoux 209

References
Anagnost, A. (1997) National Past-times: Narratives, Representation and Power in Modern
China (Durham NC and London: Duke University Press).
Bao, H. X. (2010) ‘The Impact of the 2008 Olympic Games on Residential Property Prices
in Wangjing, Beijing’, Journal of Real Estate Practice and Education, 13.1, 71–86.
Beijing (2008) ‘Olympic Action Plan. Strategic Conception’, at: http://en.beijing2008.
cn/97/92/article211929297.shtml (accessed 14 May 2010).
Bobin, F. and Wang Zhe (2005) Pékin en mouvement. Des innovateurs dans la ville (Paris:
Editions Autrement).
Bonneau, C. (ed.) (2008a) Pékin 2008 : La face cachée des JO. Science & Vie (Hors-série),
June–July.
Bonneau, C. (2008b) ‘L’envers du décor’, in C. Bonneau (ed.), Pékin 2008: La face cachée
des JO. Science & Vie (Hors-série), June–July, 34–63.
Brady, A.-M. (2009) ‘The Beijing Olympics as a Campaign of Mass Distraction’, The China
Quarterly, 197, 1–4.
Broudehoux, A.-M. (2004) The Making and Selling of Post-Mao Beijing (London:
Routledge).
Broudehoux, A.-M. (2007) ‘Spectacular Beijing: The Conspicuous Construction of an
Olympic Metropolis’, Journal of Urban Affairs. 29.4, 383–399.
Broudehoux, A.-M. (2011) ‘Civilizing Beijing: Social Beautification, Civility, and
Citizenship at the 2008 Olympics’, in G. Hayes and J. Karamichas (eds), The Olympics,
Mega-events and Civil Societies: Globalization, Environment, Resistance (Basingstoke:
Palgrave Macmillan).
Chalkey, B. S. and Essex, S. J. (1999) ‘Urban Development through Hosting International
Events: A History of the Olympic Games’, Planning Perspectives, 14.4, 369–394.
COHRE (Centre on Housing Rights and Eviction) (2008) One World, Whose Dream?
Housing Rights Violations and the Beijing Olympic Games (Geneva: COHRE Special
Report).
Julier, G. (2005) ‘Urban Designscapes and the Production of Aesthetic Consent’, Urban
Studies, 42.5–6, 869–887.
Lenskyj, H. J. (2002) The Best Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of Sydney 2000 (Albany: State
University of New York Press).
Mitchell, D. (1995) ‘The End of Public Space? People’s Park, Definitions of the Public, and
Democracy’, Annals of the Association of American Geographers, 85.1, 108–133.
Tubieff, R. (2008) ‘Eau: Où est-elle donc passée?’, in C. Bonneau (ed.), Pékin 2008: La face
cachée des JO, Science & Vie (Hors-série), June–July, 44–53.
13
Living Lula’s Passion?: The Politics of
Rio 2016
Bryan C. Clift and David L. Andrews

Introduction

Rio has a lot to win from the Games … And the Olympic movement has a
lot to win from Rio as well.1

According to Tomlinson, ‘the allegedly pure Olympic ideal has always been
moulded into the image of the time and place of the particular Olympiad
or Games’.2 The contextuality of the Olympic Games, to which Tomlinson
referred, is particularly evident in the way that virtually every modern games
has been immersed within, and simultaneously an agent of, the domestic and
international politics of the moment. Despite masquerading behind a veneer of
political neutrality – originally advanced by Coubertin et al. as a cornerstone of
the Olympic movement – the politically motivated actions of the national
organising committees, and at times the events which enveloped succeeding
Olympic Games, have rendered apoliticism little more than an anachronistic
part of the Olympics’ brand identity.3 While discussions of the politicisation of
the contemporary Olympics routinely default to the monumentally politicised
Olympic spectacles – such as Berlin 1936, Moscow 1980, Salt Lake City 2002
and Beijing 2008, to name but a few – it is our contention that analysis of less
overtly politicised games is equally instructive. It is this assumption that drew
us to the phenomenon of Rio 2016.
Far from an actualised Olympic Games, Rio 2016 is presently little more
than an event design or strategy at the early stages of being realised, follow-
ing the bid team’s securing of the right to host the 2016 Summer Olympic
and Paralympic Games at the IOC Copenhagen Conference of October 2009.
Nonetheless, again we contend that the very impetus and operationalising of
the Rio 2016 bid was rooted in a vernacular political agenda; the policies and
sensibilities of the then Brazilian President, the iconic and charismatic Luiz
Inácio Lula da Silva, popularly referred to as Lula. Thus, within this discussion,

210
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 Bryan C. Clift and David L. Andrews 211

we provide an admittedly partial and suggestive contextualizing of Rio 2016,

as being constituted by – and, increasingly as it becomes materialised – a
constituent element of, Lula’s political agenda and legacy.
Brazil is a particularly difficult nation to characterise. During the last two
centuries, successive – if never fully realised – waves of immigration, industriali-
sation, urbanisation, modernisation and democratisation have rendered it very
much a fluid, fractured, yet vibrant, society in process.4 Despite possessing both
a modernised industrial and a highly sophisticated commercial agricultural
sector, the rates of poverty are high among the nation’s 190 million populace.5
Given such contrasts, and perhaps not surprisingly, there is considerable con-
jecture as to whether, in the words of its impeached President Fernando Collor,
Brazil is ‘the first of the developing countries’ or that she occupies ‘the last
place in the developed countries group’.6 Despite a degree of ambiguity with
regard to Brazil’s precise place and function within the global community of
nations, there is little doubting the nation’s emergent importance within the
global economy:

As a country replete with natural resources, endowed with a large internal

market, and home to dynamic and increasingly global corporations, Brazil
has been famously anointed as a ‘BRIC’ – thus identified along with Russia,
India, and China as one of the four very large, rapidly emerging economies
that are key growth engines in the global economy.7

While it’s impossible to know the motivations and thought processes of the
International Olympic Committee delegates sequestered at the IOC Copenhagen
Conference in October 2009, there is every suggestion that those who voted for
Rio de Janeiro’s (henceforth, Rio) bid to host the 2016 Summer Olympic Games
were cognisant of Brazil’s increasingly prominent position on the global eco-
nomic (and thereby political) stage: a position and influence from which the
Olympic movement could doubtless seek to capitalise.
The constitution of, and struggle between, the final host city candidate cities
for the 2016 Olympic bid is illuminating since it replicates the tensions existing
within broader global economic and political relations. Of the four final host
city candidates, Chicago, Tokyo and Madrid represented developed nations,
the former two global economic superpowers. Thus, the IOC was left with an
intriguing dilemma. Should they award the 2016 Games to one or other of
cities located in nations with demonstrable economic, political and technologi-
cal infrastructures, and an established Olympic provenance? Or should they
bestow the games on Rio in the hope and expectation of successfully expand-
ing the Olympic movement into previously unexplored territory, recognising
the economic, political and technological vibrancy yet also uncertainty of
this ‘BRIC’ economy. Since the latter came to fruition, it would appear that
212 Living Lula’s Passion?: The Politics of Rio 2016

Olympic delegates had, in concert with ‘international investors, academics,

pundits, and policymakers’, become transfixed by Brazil as an object of ‘fasci-
nation and speculation’.8
With regards to the Olympic movement, the awarding of the 2016 Summer
Games to a city located within what has been variously described as a ‘late-
developed’ society,9 an ‘emerging third world power’,10 or even a ‘craft
superpower’,11 represents the latest example of a trend initiated in the mid-
20th century toward expanding the footprint of the Olympic movement
beyond its North Atlantic comfort zone. Although they continue to be framed
through a prism of Greek classicism, the modern Olympic Games were insti-
tuted as a celebration and vindication of distinctly Eurocentric body practices
and ideals.12 Indicating the state of play within late-19th century geopolitical
relations, the foundations of the modern Olympic movement were rooted in
an internationalist humanism, led by members of the European aristocracy,
that ‘appealed to deep feelings among Europeans that were rooted in anxieties
about war and peace’.13 The internationalist and pacifist philosophy underpin-
ning Olympism being that, if widely disseminated and enacted, the highest
ideals of physical and moral expression – as realised through involvement in
athletic competition – could lead to enhanced international interaction and
understanding. Clearly, in its formative and even adolescent decades, the locus
of control of the Olympic movement was firmly entrenched within the North
Atlantic corridor, which was also the locus of world power at this time.
In the aftermath of the Second World War, just as the balance of power in
international geopolitical relations shifted, so it did within the Olympic move-
ment. The second half of the 20th century witnessed the growth in influence
of the Soviet Union (Moscow 1980; Sochi 2014) and its satellite states (Sarajevo
1984), the economic transformation of Japan (Tokyo 1964; Sapporo 1972;
Nagano 1998) and subsequently South Korea (Seoul 1988), and the gradual
re-emergence of China on the global stage (Beijing 2008), have all been marked
by the hosting of Olympic Games. The selection of these non-Anglo/Euro/
American Olympic locations over the past five decades evidences the rise of
non-Western nations in the administration and delivery (as well as the practice)
of international sport. This phenomenon speaks to Maguire’s fifth stage of
‘sportization’, which, from the 1960s onwards, saw that ‘The control of interna-
tional sports organizations and the Olympic movement is beginning, although
slowly and unevenly, to slip out of the exclusive hands of the “West”’.14 As with
the awarding of the 2010 FIFA World Cup to South Africa, and the 2018 World
Cup to Qatar; the 1998 Commonwealth Games to Kuala Lumpur and the 2010
Commonwealth Games to Delhi; so, Rio 2016 evidences a discernable change
in Olympic geopolitical power relations and sensitivities.
From the Brazilian perspective, and following the lead of the 2000 Sydney
Olympics, it is also clear that the Rio bid was at least partially motivated and
 Bryan C. Clift and David L. Andrews 213

propelled by a recognition of the need to use the Olympic Games as a ‘hallmark

event’ to reinvigorate Rio’s ‘world-class city’ status.15 Within what is a ‘period of
intense inter-urban competition and urban entrepreneurialism’,16 the Olympics
could be used as an omnipresent place-marketing strategy to further spectacu-
larise Rio to a truly global audience, with the intent of stimulating tourism and
other forms of global capital investment.17,18 As an indication of the potential
economic benefits of the Olympic Games for Rio – and as spurious and self-
serving as some estimates may be – the Business School São Paulo produced
a study for the Brazilian Ministry of Sports which predicted the Rio Olympics
as generating $51.1 billion for the Brazilian economy by 2027, while adding
120,000 jobs annually in the years leading up to the games.19 However, the
securing of the Olympics 2016 for Rio – arguably Brazil’s most nationally
emblematic and globally resonant city – also represents a sporting exemplar of
the strategies whereby emergent nations, such as Brazil, seek to locate them-
selves more centrally within, and thereby harness, the institutions and forces of
globalisation in order to further their standing on the world stage: the Olympics
are, as Short20 described, an important motor of political and economic
globalisation. Despite his leftist orientation – something that routinely pre-
cludes politicians from developing such ties21 – the iconic Lula (the founder of
the PT: Partido dos Trabalhadores [the Workers’ Party], and two-time president of
Brazil, 2003–2010), clearly recognised and acted upon the necessity for Brazil to
interact with the leviathans of globalisation.22 Lula’s regime identified Brazil’s
‘best hope for development as its becoming an integral part of the transnational
economy’.23 So, the nation has become more actively and productively involved
in other multilateral organisations, such as the World Trade Organization, the
United Nations, and the G20 (Group of Twenty Finance Ministers and Central
Bank Governors), and, most pointedly for this discussion, the Olympic Games.

Lula and the politics of neo-populism

That’s my man right there . . . The most popular politician on earth.24

Lula was, and indeed continues to be, a unique figure among the world’s lead-
ing statesmen. Inveterately working class by birth, upbringing and profession,
this lathe operator turned trade union leader and leftist politician combined
the political capital of his humble origins with that derived from his genu-
inely expressed concern and empathy for the plight of Brazil’s impoverished.25
Following three failed bids for the Presidency (in 1989, 1994 and 1998), he
finally came to power in 2003 following a hugely successful campaign in which
he energised the Brazilian masses, whilst panicking the nation’s elites, through
the vivid usage of anti-capitalist rhetoric. This was Lula, the hero of the Brazilian
and South American Left, swept to the Presidency on a tidal wave of progressive
214 Living Lula’s Passion?: The Politics of Rio 2016

populism that garnered him 52 million votes, or roughly 62 per cent of valid
votes cast. As Matos noted, Lula’s support derived from a widespread dissatisfac-
tion with the inequalities that continued to plague Brazilian society, and a disillu-
sionment with the political leaders who had patently failed to address them:

The solution encountered by many … was to invest their hopes on a charis-

matic, paternalistic and ‘truthful’ leader who was ‘just like the people.’ Nothing
seemed more reasonable than to elect a man from the people who would govern
for the people, and who would thus ‘save them’ from economic hardship.26

With such expectations, it is little wonder that Lula should have failed to live
up to them in some commentators’ eyes.27,28 However, his cause was not helped
by demonstrable policy and ideological changes that attended his arrival at the
Palacio do Panalto.
Once in office, Lula clearly moderated his anti-capitalist tone, and strategi-
cally engaged with global capitalist forces, while simultaneously embarking on
his more anticipated social welfare agenda. Whereas in opposition Lula and
the PT had used neoliberalism as a force against which to mobilise; once the
realities of modern nation-state governance set in,29 willingly or otherwise, the
Lula regime opted for a more conciliatory attitude toward neoliberal policies.30
As a result, the new government was considerably less progressive than the
Brazilian electorate had been led to expect. As Hunter and Power surmised,

Lula’s first two years have been anything but system-derailing. In fact, as
this midterm assessment suggests, the continuities that his government has
overseen are more striking than the changes that it has generated. In eco-
nomic and social policy as well as coalition management, the government
has stayed close to established patterns and practices.31

To be sure, Lula and his administration lacked a defining political label, being
variously branded as socialist, social-liberal, corporatist and neoliberal. This is
perhaps more a reflection of political expediency than any true commitment
to the political middle ground. Nonetheless, and

driven by its moderate agenda and the need to ensure a parliamentary

majority Lula’s government can be characterized as center-Left, and the
need to maintain [a] broad and unstable set of alliances has and will con-
tinue to impose many puzzling contradictions on Lula, his government,
and the PT.32

Such contradictions, or perhaps better, complexities, are evident in Lula’s

conjoined domestic and international policies. During his tenure as Brazilian
 Bryan C. Clift and David L. Andrews 215

President, Lula’s reformist political agenda cultivated a complex fusion of

Brazilian, South American and global policy objectives: domestically, he sought
to further the political, economic and social modernisation of Brazilian society;
within the regional context, he strove to constitute a united Latin American
bloc able to compete more effectively with other regional politico-economic
formations; and, globally, in bringing both the domestic and regional
initiatives together, Lula sought to establish the modernising and advancing
Brazilian nation as a leading force within the community of nations.
From its inception in 2003, the Lula government built upon the economic
reform and stabilisation, and limited foreign policy activism, policies of
former President Fernando Henrique Cardoso. While observing the economic
orthodoxy of his predecessor, Lula differentiated his administration through
the introduction of large-scale social programs, and increasing levels of global
and South-South trade.33,34,35 This approach alienated many at the poles of the
Brazilian political landscape. Those on the left accused Lula of maintaining
market-oriented economic policies encouraged by Cardoso36,37 and enacting
social policies ‘more ameliorative than dramatically redistributive’.38 Whereas
those on the right, ever wary of him enacting a more overt socialist agenda,
were damning of his linkage, by association, with what they saw as PT corrup-
tion. Taken in concert, these sources of criticism momentarily threatened to
endanger his Presidential re-election in 2006. However, Lula’s popularity was
bolstered, and his re-election was ensured, due to the vigorous growth expe-
rienced by the Brazilian economy even within times of global financial crisis,
which created tangible signs that the nation’s notorious and debilitating social
inequalities were receding.39 So, in his second term, Lula made use of Brazil’s
growing economic power to more forcefully assert Brazilian interests within
regional and global spheres of influence.
Importantly, and unlike Hugo Chávez and Fidel Castro, who have only
engaged global forces and relations as a matter of necessity, Lula has champi-
oned Brazil’s internationalist political orientation, developing closer relations
between Brazil and both developed and developing nations. Regarding the latter,
Lula reignited the Southern Common Market of South America, or Mercosur,
a political and economic formation linking Argentina, Brazil, Paraguay and
Uruguay – recently joined by Venezuela – initiated in 1991. Though Mercosur
has yet to fully integrate all of South and Latin America, Brazil has continued
to push for broader regional integration.40 More than strengthening Latin
American economic and political relations, Lula’s advocacy of Mercosur has
led to expanded South American and Brazilian relations with nations across
the globe:

While Mercosur’s social and political aspects are finally being seriously
addressed, efforts are being made to forge agreements between Mercosur
216 Living Lula’s Passion?: The Politics of Rio 2016

and the Andean Community, India, South Africa, and the European Union,
a decisive step toward a common and autonomous external policy for
Mercosur’s founding members.41

In fact, the Brazilian government has focused on developing economic rela-

tions with other advancing nations, to the extent that more than half of
Brazil’s trade is now conducted with developing nations, as against 38 per cent
in the year before Lula took office.42
Shedding its label as the eternal country of the future,43 the Lula government
increased Brazil’s presence among international institutions in various ways:
as a member of the G20, Brazil has eclipsed the power of and thwarted the US
and European hegemony of the G8;44,45 through Brazil’s securing of permanent
membership of the UN Security Council and the World Trade Organization;
and, by launching more policies related to Africa and the Middle East, and
thereby amplifying relations between South America and these locales.46
Goodman47 suggested that Brazil’s ascension to BRIC status (again, an acronym
referring to Brazil, Russia, India, and China, each of whom have newly reached
an elevated level of economic development), evidenced Lula’s preoccupation
with Brazil as a global power rather than a regional one. Conversely, de Castro
and de Carvalho indicated that there was compelling evidence that Lula recog-
nised, and nurtured, local, regional and globally interrelated initiatives.48 On
the one hand, Lula’s approach was

characterized by the development of resistances to the swift adaptation of

domestic policies to changing economic conditions in the international
environment. On the other hand, in the long run such resistances have
led to the establishment of institutional structures and policy changes that
have opened up new possibilities for the construction of a more pluralistic
democratic order that may aspire to overcome extreme social injustice at the
local level and to adopt a more active role in hemispheric and international
affairs.49

Lula’s global aspirations did not forsake national and continental affairs; rather,
concomitant with global ambitions, Lula re-stimulated Brazilian political,
economic and social opportunities while attending to, and to some degree
uniting, the previously fractious Latin American formation.
That Lula – compelled by interlocking local imperatives and global
objectives – should have recognised the political significance of the Olympic
Games is wholly unsurprising. In d’Oliveira’s50 terms, Lula’s Olympic aspira-
tions were emblematic of the ‘neo-populism’ that came to define his Presidency.
In his populist guise, Lula harnessed popular support through the policies and
rhetoric designed to appeal to the experiences and sensibilities of the Brazilian
 Bryan C. Clift and David L. Andrews 217

throng. Whereas, as an agent of neo-populism, Lula threw ‘himself into fresh

activities every day, constantly announcing new programs and social projects
that are little more than virtual, but which serve to show that something is
being done, to simulate political leadership’.51 By legitimating his position of
leadership through daily announcements of oftentimes high-profile and popu-
list policy initiatives or programs, Lula was able – if not entirely – to draw atten-
tion away from the less socially liberal and more neoliberal dimensions and
directives of his administration. Yet, while the far-left factions within Brazilian
politics were heavily critical of the Lula project as it transpired, so he received
equally strident criticism from the conservative right who, despite policy shifts
to the contrary, could not overlook his or the PT’s socialist lineage. Given such
dissension from the polarised factions of Brazilian politics, it is little surprise
that the mass media, and particularly television, played such a crucial role in
consolidating Lula’s neo-populism. Despite high rates of poverty, 97 per cent of
Brazilian homes possess at least one colour television set.52 Thus, when in neo-
populist vein, Lula benefited from the daily exposure that television coverage of
his litany of policy announcements afforded him, while ‘the fleeting character’
of this television coverage made it ‘impossible to pin him down, so his next
appearance seems a novelty’.53 In this regard, Rio’s Olympic odyssey, and the
frequent opportunities for televised Presidential commentary or reflection that
it compelled, fitted seamlessly into Lula’s neo-populist modus operandi.
Of course, the Rio 2016 bid was by no means the first time that Lula, or
indeed Brazil, had ventured into the realm of the global sporting mega-event.
During an earlier phase in the history of the nation, hosting the 1950 World
Cup provided Brazil with an important opportunity for projecting ‘images of
progressive, industrialized modernity’ to the international community, thereby
advancing Brazil’s status as a developing and ambitious member of the postwar
global community of nations.54 More recently, Brazil ran unopposed in the
process to select the host nation for the 2014 FIFA World Cup. However, with
regards to global political significance, Brazil’s hosting of the World Cup pales
into insignificance compared to Rio’s securing of the 2016 Summer Olympic
and Paralympic Games. Both are mega-events with global audiences, but
Brazil’s relationship with football was already firmly established; along with
samba, carnival and rainforests, futebol is arguably the most vivid symbol of
Brazilianness within the global imaginary. The securing of the Olympics would
therefore be confirmation to Brazilians, and the world more generally, that
the ‘country was at last acquiring a swagger and an influence beyond the foot-
ball pitch’.55 Furthermore, winning the rights to hold the 2016 Olympic and
Paralympic Games would provide compelling evidence, to internal and exter-
nal constituencies alike, that the ‘Brazilian model – the post-ideological mix
of orthodox market economics and progressive social policy championed by
Lula – is the one to follow’.56 Lula’s neo-populist machinations, which focused
218 Living Lula’s Passion?: The Politics of Rio 2016

on the Rio 2016 bid, certainly paid dividends, as illustrated by the 85 per cent
approval rating of the city’s population for the Rio bid, as measured by IOC
polls.57 Clearly, here was a populace who bought into Lula and the bid team’s
design and vision for the Games (discussed in the next section), such that the
charismatic President could assert: ‘It is not a personal project or only a sports
project but for us it’s a nationwide project.’

Bidding for Rio

… for all the pretty pictures and emotional speeches, everyone knew this
was first and foremost a marketing-sales campaign.58

The IOC may well be a non-governmental organisation (NGO); however, host-

ing the Olympic Games demands various forms of governmental participation.
Such is its gargantuan scale, the contemporary Olympics can only be realised
as a global mega-event,59 through a combination of national and local govern-
ment involvement in myriad political, economic and social investments. This
governmental commitment has clearly been realised by the IOC which lists
‘Government support, legal issues and public opinion’ (of which ‘Government
support and commitment was a sub-category’) as one of the 11 criteria used by
the IOC to judge applicant cities in the first phase of the host city selection proc-
ess (the others being: general infrastructure; sports venues; Olympic Village(s);
environmental conditions and impact; accommodation; transport concept;
safety and security; experience from past sports events; financial considerations;
and the overall project and legacy).60 During the later stages of the bid process,
expressions of local and national governmental backing – both structural (in
terms of the government agencies and funding allocated to the bid if successful)
and symbolic (as manifest in the presence of high-profile government figures
at key site visits, events, and presentations) – became, if anything, even more
significant factors for IOC delegates looking to confer their votes.
Recent successful bids to host the Olympic Games have, almost without excep-
tion, been explicit partnerships between local and national governments and
various business interests. These relationships create an ‘active growth regime’
which, in drawing upon the resources of the business community and both the
legal infrastructure and authority of government, provides a structure for over-
coming the ‘inertia’ and associated ‘fragmented power of local government’.61
Clearly, this was the case with the main protagonists behind the Rio 2016 bid
who constituted what was an authoritative and influential ‘active growth regime’,
which generated some interesting initiatives related to the proposed Games.
Rio’s previous bids for the 2004 and 2012 Olympic Games had resulted in
the ignominy of failing to proceed past the first round of voting. In order
to avoid repeating such national discrediting and, furthermore, to advance
 Bryan C. Clift and David L. Andrews 219

his global-local political and economic ambitions for Brazil, Lula became
a leading figure in a distinctly authoritative ‘active growth regime’ (other
members included: Carlos Arthur Nuzman, President of the Brazilian Olympic
Committee; Eduardo Paes, Mayor of Rio de Janeiro; Sergio Cabral, Governor of
Rio de Janeiro; and Henrique Meirelles, Governor of the Central Bank of Brazil)
whose resources and influence propelled the Rio 2016 bid. It was this group
who identified and enlisted Michael Payne, a former IOC marketing director, as
Senior Strategy Advisor to the bid. Payne thus transformed the structure, focus
and delivery of the bid into that of a marketing campaign. In order to facilitate
this, he brought together an unrivalled team of experts in the field of global
mega-event planning who were primarily responsible for fashioning the bid.
This team included: Craig McLatchey, CEO of Event Knowledge Services (EKS)
and Secretary General of the Australian Olympic Committee and Director of
Sydney 2000, who oversaw the bid’s technical development; Mike Lee, CEO
of the media services company Verocom and Director of Communications
for London 2012, who led the bid’s communications division; Scott Givens,
CEO of the global marketing agency Five Currents and creative director for the
Salt Lake 2002 Organizing Committee, who produced the bid; and, Françoise
Zweifel, a former General Secretary of the IOC, who was in charge of the bid’s
international relations. Hence, and as is often the case, the leadership of the
Rio 2016 ‘regime’ turned to a cabal of globally peripatetic Olympic bid profes-
sionals,62 whose charge was to create a vision of the Rio 2016 local – within, and
through, the bid structure and presentation – that would engage IOC delegates.
As Givens himself noted, ‘Knowing the Olympic movement well we were able
to bring out things that would resonate with the members’.63
Unlike the other candidate cities in the final bidding stages (Chicago, Madrid
and Tokyo) whose funding strategies relied primarily upon private capital, the Rio
bid pledged to use public monies – derived from three levels of government – city,
state and federal – to cover the costs incurred by its Organizing Committee of the
Olympic Games (OCOG). According to IOC mandate, this accounted to a mini-
mum commitment of $2.82 billion in public funding from Brazilian coffers.64
Monies derived from Brazil’s Federal Plan for Growth Acceleration (PAC),
a nation-wide program incorporating $240 billion of capital investment, would
augment this figure. In terms of the sites of major capital investment, drawing
on Rio’s diverse topography, the bid identified four primary ‘venue clusters’
located around the city (Deodoro, Maracanã, Copacabana and Barra) that would
host events, and be linked by a high-performance ‘transport ring’ with metro,
rail, bus and roadways.65,66 Although some of these ‘venue clusters’ incorporated
sporting infrastructure built and/or renovated for the 2007 Pan American Games
that would be utilised and updated for Rio 2016, considerable investment in
new facilities was incorporated into the OCOG budget. Furthermore, public
monies to the level of $11.1 billion (separate from the identified OCOG budget)
220 Living Lula’s Passion?: The Politics of Rio 2016

were also pledged to a complex array of capital improvements, including: the

construction of a high-speed rail system; upgrades to the metro and suburban
rail system; three new bus rapid transit (BRT) routes; approximately 300km
of Olympic automobile lanes; extending and upgrading Rio de Janeiro-Galeao
International airport; environmental management systems; power and security
equipment; and even city-wide Wi-Fi access. In financial terms alone, clearly
there was far-reaching and multi-sourced governmental support for the Rio bid.
A further key element of the bid team’s agenda was the creation of a vision
of Rio 2016 that emphasised its uniqueness for the Olympic movement, regard-
ing both its local and global implications. As well as projecting a vision for
the Olympic infrastructure, and the aesthetic and cultural appeal of the Rio
location, the bid’s promotional mechanisms needed to advance Rio 2016 as the
novel opportunity to bring the Olympic Games to not only Brazil but also to
the South American continent for the first time. This was promoted as being
of mutual benefit to both the host city/nation/region and the IOC. As identi-
fied by Gaffney,67 and despite the ‘deliberately vague’ and ‘cryptic’ phraseol-
ogy used to describe how they would be realised, the areas of focus identified
within the Rio 2016 bid were:

• Olympic values underpinning education and social development

• Olympic Games as a major driver for Rio’s ongoing development
• New territory for the Olympic Games
• Promotion of Brazil
• Enhancement of the Olympic brand through Games experience
• Acceleration of long-term city plans and requirements
• Creation of a deeper, global understanding of modern Brazil
• Creation of sports legacy benefits for all South America.

While ambiguous, the nonetheless seductive imaginary created by the bid’s

‘Live Your Passion’ slogan, and its supporting video narratives, equally framed
Rio as an exciting destination for the Olympic caravan.68 The most striking of
these visual narratives was ‘Passion Unites Us’, one of four Rio 2016 short films
created by the Academy Award-nominated director, Fernando Meirelles. Within
‘Passion Unites Us’ the colour and vibrancy of Rio’s social and geographic
landscape is introduced to the viewer, as the world’s athletes, Olympic and
Paralympic, are heralded by Rio’s welcoming and passionate populace. This
culminates in the creation of a human five-ringed Olympic symbol on the
iconic Copacabana beach. Introducing and concluding the visual narrative,
a young Brazilian girl effuses:

They come from countries large and small, arriving at the promising shores
of a new land.
 Bryan C. Clift and David L. Andrews 221

They come as Olympians carrying the dreams of nations, but together in Rio
they unite the world like never before …
… Their worlds will come together as never before, when passion unites us.
Rio 2016.

This, like other Rio 2016 narratives, sought to underscore both and the instan-
tiation of a new Rio as emblematic, and symptomatic, of a new Brazil – ‘the
promising shores of a new land’ – while simultaneously positioning Rio as a
destination which would further globalise the Olympic community – ‘unite the
world like never before’. Although expressed in seductive cinematic form and
through emotive Olympic inflections, here is Lula’s political agenda distilled
for constituencies near and far.
Going into the final stages of the bid process, and based on the IOC’s sum-
mation of the Rio bid, it was evident that the Brazilian and South American
implications of the bid had been effectively communicated:

The Brazilian authorities believe that Rio de Janeiro’s bid is a ‘self affirmation’
of the Brazilian people and consider it a point of honour to bring the Games
to the country and to South America, a continent with a population of
400 million of which 180 million are young people. As such, the authorities
confirmed to the Commission that they consider the investment in infra-
structure required for the Games to be worthwhile as an investment in the
country’s future. All aspects have been carefully studied and Rio 2016 con-
siders the Games would leave a lasting and affordable legacy. The financing
of the project is fully guaranteed as part of the USD 240 billion Federal Plan
for Growth Acceleration (PAC).69

Building on these acknowledged sentiments, in his final speech to the IOC at

the Copenhagen Conference, Lula accentuated the national-regional dualism
that a Rio Olympics would arouse. First, by pointing to the importance of the
Games as a point of broader recognition, and a motor of further stimulus, to
the advances made by the Brazilian nation:

Among the countries that today compete to host the Olympic Games, we
are the only one to have never had this honour. For others it will just be
one more Games. For us, it will be an unparalleled opportunity. It will boost
the self-esteem of Brazilians. It will consolidate recent achievements. It will
inspire new ones …

Second, Lula located the Rio bid, and thus Brazil, within the broader South
American context. In doing so, he implicitly framed Rio 2016 within the
move toward countervailing the longstanding issues of Eurocentrism and/or
222 Living Lula’s Passion?: The Politics of Rio 2016

Westerncentrism that became a discernible feature of many global sporting

organisations, including FIFA70,71 as well as the IOC. Oftentimes this took the
form of emotive pleas to the inclusionary benefits of expanding the Olympics
into the long neglected South American continent:

The bid is not only ours. It is also South America’s bid … a continent that
has never hosted the Games. It is time to address this imbalance. For the
Olympic movement, this decision will open a new and promising frontier …
and it will also send a powerful message to the whole world: the Olympic
games belong to all peoples, to all continents, to all mankind.72

Further mobilising the call for the IOC to expand its Olympic imaginary (and
thereby reinscribing the anti-Eurocentric sensibilities of significant factions of
the IOC electorate), within the Rio 2016 team’s final bid presentation, Carlos
Nuzman – President of the Brazilian Olympic Committee (BOC) – unveiled
a map of the world containing markings for each modern Olympics Games
since Athens 1896 (two Games in Oceania; five in Asia; 30 in Europe; 12 in
North America, eight of which held in the United States alone, and none in
South America). While doing so, Nuzman pointedly declared:

The Games have always been the greatest … when they have explored new
territories and new connections. The Olympic flame has always burnt the
brightest … when it has brought people together and marked a new chapter
in history.73

Whether expressed by Nuzman, or himself, the bid presentation exuded the

local-global dualism of Lula’s politics; Rio was positioned at the fulcrum of
Brazil’s, and indeed South America’s, political, economic and social advance-
ment on the global stage, from which the Olympics would surely benefit.
That Lula’s stamp should have been so evident on the Rio 2016 bid should
come as no surprise. Unlike the archetypal head of state –tangentially involved in
the bidding process for such events until the curtain call for the final bid
presentation (unless of course they deign to involve themselves via video) – Lula
displayed a concerted commitment to the bid. This was evidenced in: attending
the IOC Evaluation Commission three times compared to most Presidents’ one;
handwriting, and arranging for the hand-delivery of, individually customized
letters to the 110-strong IOC membership; and extending his stay in London fol-
lowing the G20 meetings in order to meet with Olympic officials.74 Whether or
not Lula was able to forge vital vote-garnering relationships with IOC delegates as
a result of these efforts is impossible to confirm; it is simply a matter of conjecture.
However, they do confirm Lula’s recognition of the importance of the Rio 2016
bid to the realisation of his local-global political and economic agenda.
 Bryan C. Clift and David L. Andrews 223

Conclusion

It is difficult to believe that a third world country has reached this point …
We have left behind being a second-rate country to become a first-rate one.
Respect is good and we are happy to receive it.75

For some, the success of the Rio 2016 bid would appear to be a beacon of
hope in a sea of Olympic exploitation, corporatism and corruption. Here is
an Olympic and Paralympic Games initiated and propelled by the ideological
underpinnings and policy objectives of a truly popular leader; albeit one whose
progressive impulses have been somewhat blunted by the consensual pressures
of leadership. Perhaps, as we look to 2016, the Rio Games will mark a new
beginning for the Olympic movement, and not simply because they are located
in South America. Maybe Gaffney’s scepticism towards Rio 2016 is unfounded.
Could it be that the games won’t be like this:

As with most mega-events, development is highly uneven and tends to ben-

efit private developers and construction interests while creating spaces of
leisure for wealthy residents and the international tourist class.76

There are some justifications for optimism, since preliminary socioeconomic

analyses project that regional and sectoral investment linked to the Games will
benefit Rio, the State, and the Brazilian nation more generally.77 There are, on
the other hand, more disturbing trends beginning to appear.
Despite the sanitised image of Rio represented through Meirelles’ short films
and other place-promotion initiatives for Rio 2016, the city remains plagued
by poverty and inequality, crime and violence, and widespread corruption;
each of which has been raised by the movement opposing Rio’s hosting of the
Olympics.78 Indeed, in the immediate aftermath of Rio securing the Games, the
city’s problems and their bloody corollary were highlighted by a particularly
violent day resulting in 17 deaths and a police helicopter being shot down.79 As
the epicentre of much of this drug and gang-related violence, Rio’s expansive
shanty-towns, or favelas, have come under increased political scrutiny:

… the Brazilian government has begun an aggressive program to prevent

crime in Rio, what officials have called ‘pacification.’ In practice, it’s a
full-scale military operation to run out the drug dealers and bring in more
police.80

Over 100 favelas will undergo pacification with permanent police stations
planned by 2016.81 In this way, Rio looks to be replicating the pre-emptive
policing strategies evident at 2010 FIFA World Cup in South Africa, wherein
224 Living Lula’s Passion?: The Politics of Rio 2016

particular locations were targeted for more visible and aggressive policing
during the tournament;82 governing the poor is seemingly becoming an obliga-
tory aspect of sporting mega-event delivery, especially within developing socie-
ties. Equally as disturbingly – especially if it had been made more public – as
well as testing Lula’s progressive social agenda,83 Rio’s seemingly omnipresent
violence has furthered the prosperity of a more draconian civic leader, the
former New York Mayor Rudy Giuliani. This can be attributed to his Giuliani
Security & Safety LLC security firm being contracted to patrol the streets of Rio,
just as it has done in those of New York (where it was founded shortly after the
September 11, 2001 World Trade Center bombings), and in an initiative that is
dishearteningly characteristic of hegemonic relations between the global North
and South.84
Once again typical of the West’s historically exploitative (and, in this case,
patronising) attitude toward expressions of Brazilian Otherness, the practice
of slumming or ‘poverty tourism’85 has made its way into Rio’s largest favela,
Rocinha. Simply put, slumming refers to the global phenomenon of guided
visits made by foreign tourists to slums, shanty towns, or townships as a means
of providing them with a voyeuristic entrée into the authentic spaces and
experiences of deprivation: ‘Poverty is being consumed as a tourist commod-
ity with a monetary value agreed upon by promoters and consumers.’86 If, as
Freire-Medeiros87 has persuasively suggested, favela tourism is indeed part of a
global phenomenon reaching unprecedented scales, then there is the potential
for the Rio Games to bring about unforeseen spatial, cultural and human com-
mercial exploitation; the favelas, like the Maracanã, being simply one stop on
the list of must-see Rio tourist destinations. Thus, it would appear the coming
spectre of the Olympics is ensuring the reformation of much of Rio into spaces
which are simultaneously governable and consumable.88
It remains to be seen what, if any, influence Lula and his political objectives
have on the instantiation of Rio 2016, since the term limits inscribed in Brazil’s
constitution required him to relinquish power following the 2010 Presidential
elections. However, his successor as leader of the PT and as Brazilian President,
Dilma Rousseff (the first woman President in Brazilian history), is seen as
an agent of continuity as opposed to change. Rio 2016 will thus provide an
opportunity for testing Lula’s conviction that the Olympics is an opportu-
nity for presenting and protracting Brazil’s reformation, modernisation, and
progression to a global audience; simultaneously impressing of the capacities
and capabilities of a globally re-envisioned Brazil upon a global audience. As
such, the Rio 2016 Olympics and Paralympics are destined to be inscribed
by Lula’s political and economic ambitions for the Brazilian nation and will,
in all probability, become part of his legacy. Should this be largely positive or
negative will depend, at least to some degree, on whether the truly progressive
‘promising shores’ of this ‘new land’ become realised within, and through, the
 Bryan C. Clift and David L. Andrews 225

Rio 2016 spectacle. It will also turn on whether or not the Lula effect on the
Olympic Games is nothing more than a neo-populist illusion,89 reproducing
geopolitical, economic and social inequities, and evidencing the impossibility
of an (Olympic) post-neoliberalism.90

Notes
1. Eduardo Paes, Mayor of Rio de Janeiro, quoted in A. Barrionuevo ‘For Brazil, Olympic
Bid Is about Global Role.’ NYTimes.com, 28 September 2009, at: www.nytimes.
com/2009/09/28/world/americas/28brazil.html.
2. Tomlinson, Globalization and Culture, 599.
3. van Wynsberghe and Ritchie, ‘(Ir)Relevant ring: The Symbolic Consumption of the
Olympic Logo in Postmodern Media Culture’.
4. Roett, The New Brazil.
5. May, Natural Resource Valuation and Policy in Brazil: Methods and Cases.
6. Quoted in d’Almeida, ‘Lula’s Foreign Policy: Regional and Global Strategies’, 170.
7. Brainard and Martinez-Diaz, ‘Brazil: The ‘B’ Belongs in the Brics’, 1.
8. Ibid.
9. Tosto, The Meaning of Liberalism in Brazil, 158.
10. Harris, ‘Emerging Third World Powers: China, India and Brazil’.
11. Brainard and Martinez-Diaz, Brazil as an Economic Superpower? Understanding Brazil’s
Changing Role in the Global Economy.
12. Hoberman, ‘Toward a Theory of Olympic Internationalism’.
13. Ibid., 11.
14. Maguire, Global Sport: Identities, Societies, Civilization, 86.
15. Whitson and Macintosh, ‘Becoming a World-Class City: Hallmark Events and Sport
Franchises in the Growth Strategies of Western Canadian Cities’.
16. Waitt, ‘Playing Games with Sydney: Marketing Sydney for the 2000 Olympics’,
1061.
17. Whitson and Macintosh, ‘Becoming a World-Class City’.
18. Whitson and Macintosh, ‘The Global Circus: International Sport, Tourism, and the
Marketing of Cities’.
19. Marinho and Duff, ‘Rio de Janiero Wins 2016 Olympics Behind Lula; Chicago Is
Last’.
20. Short, ‘Globalization, Cities and the Summer Olympics’.
21. Harris, ‘Emerging Third World Powers.’
22. Bianchi and Braga, ‘Brazil: The Lula Government and Financial Globalization’.
23. Harris. ‘Emerging Third World Powers’, 21.
24. President Barack Obama greeting Lula at the G20 Summit in London, 2009, quoted
in Anon, ‘The Most Popular Politician on Earth’.
25. W. Hunter, and T. J. Power, ‘Lula’s Brazil at Midterm’.
26. Matos, ‘“Lula Is Pop!”: A Critical Analysis of a “Celebrity” Politician’, 185.
27. Ibid.
28. d’Oliveira, ‘Lula in the Labyrinth’.
29. Munck, ‘Neoliberalism, Necessitarianism and Alternatives in Latin America: There Is
No Alternative (Tina)?’.
30. Fortes, ‘In Search of a Post-Neoliberal Paradigm: The Brazilian Left and Lula’s
Government’.
226 Living Lula’s Passion?: The Politics of Rio 2016

31. Hunter and Power. ‘Lula’s Brazil at Midterm’, 138.

32. French and Fortes, ‘Another World Is Possible: The Rise of the Brazilian Workers’
Party and the Prospects for Lula’s Government’, 28.
33. Bourne, Lula of Brazil: The Story So Far.
34. Hurrell, ‘Lula’s Brazil: A Rising Power, but Going Where?’.
35. Goodman, ‘Brazil: The Global Power Looking for a Backyard’.
36. United States Congress. Members and Committees of Congress, ‘Brazil-U.S. Relations’.
37. Bourne, Lula of Brazil, 129.
38. Ibid.
39. Padgett and Downie, ‘Brazil Booms by Going Lula’s Way’.
40. United States Congress, ‘Brazil-U.S. Relations’.
41. French and Fortes, ‘Another World Is Possible’, 28.
42. Goodman, ‘Brazil’.
43. Ibid.
44. Padgett and Downie, ‘Brazil Booms by Going Lula’s Way.’
45. Phillips, ‘Brazil Looks to Transform Sporting Greatness into Gold on World Stage’.
46. Hurrell, ‘Lula’s Brazil’, 52.
47. Goodman, ‘Brazil’.
48. De Castro and de Carvalho, ‘Globalization and Recent Political Transitions in Brazil’.
49. Ibid., 486.
50. d’Oliveira, ‘Lula in the Labyrinth’.
51. Ibid., 19.
52. Boccia, ‘Brazil: Cultural Enchantment – the Beijing Olympic Games Torch Lighting
Ceremony and Torch Relay: Brazil’s Warm-up Coverage’, 1536.
53. d’Oliveira, ‘Lula in the Labyrinth’, 19.
54. Gaffney, ‘Mega-Events and Socio-spatial Dynamics in Rio de Janeiro, 1919–2016’, 13.
55. Phillips, ‘Brazil Looks to Transform Sporting Greatness’.
56. Padgett and Downie, ‘Brazil Booms by Going Lula’s Way’.
57. International Olympic Committee [IOC], ‘Report of the 2016 IOC Evaluation
Commission’, September 2009.
58. Payne, ‘The Inside Story of a Remarkable Victory: How Rio Won the Games’, 51.
59. Roche, Mega-Events and Modernity: Olympics, Expos and the Growth of Global Culture.
60. International Olympic Committee [IOC], ‘Working Group Report’.
61. Burbank et al., ‘Mega-Events, Urban Development and Public Policy’, 184.
62. Surborg et al., ‘Mapping the Olympic Growth Machine’.
63. Quoted in Grohmann, ‘Rio 2016 Pitch Was a Mini Opening Ceremony’.
64. International Olympic Committee [IOC], ‘Working Group Report’.
65. Brazilian Olympic Committee [BOC], ‘Rio De Janeiro 2016: Candidature File for Rio
de Janeiro to Host the 2016 Olympic and Paralympic Games’.
66. International Olympic Committee [IOC], ‘Report of the 2016 IOC Evaluation
Commission’.
67. Gaffney, ‘Mega-events and Socio-spatial Dynamics in Rio de Janeiro’, 23.
68. Brazilian Olympic Committee [BOC], ‘Rio De Janeiro 2016: Candidature File for Rio
de Janeiro to Host the 2016 Olympic and Paralympic Games’.
69. International Olympic Committee [IOC], ‘Report of the 2016 IOC Evaluation
Commission’, 46.
70. Sugden, ‘Network Football’.
71. Sugden and Tomlinson, Fifa and the Contest for World Football.
72. Payne, ‘The Inside Story of a Remarkable Victory’, 51.
73. Ibid.
 Bryan C. Clift and David L. Andrews 227

74. Ibid.
75. Lula’s sardonic response to Rio being awarded the right to host the 2016 Summer
Olympics and Paralympics, quoted in Phillips, ‘Brazil Looks to Transform Sporting
Greatness’.
76. Gaffney, ‘Mega-events and Socio-spatial Dynamics in Rio de Janeiro,’ 23.
77. Haddad and Haddad, ‘Major Sport Events and Regional Development: The Case of
the Rio De Janeiro 2016 Olympic Games’.
78. Phillips, ‘Brazil Looks to Transform Sporting Greatness’.
79. Downie, ‘Can Rio’s Crime Problem Be Solved Before the Olympics?’.
80. Furloni and Kollman, ‘Pacifying Rio’.
81. Parenti, ‘Retaking Rio: With the Olympics Coming to Town, the State Seeks to
Reclaim the Favelas’.
82. Horn and Breetzke. ‘Informing a Crime Strategy for the Fifa 2010 World Cup: A Case
Study for the Loftus Versfeld Stadium in Tshwane, South Africa’.
83. McRoskey, ‘Security and the Olympic Games: Making Rio an Example’.
84. Millington, ‘An Unequal Playing Field? The 2016 Brazil Olympics, Modernity, and
Underdevelopment’.
85. Lancaster, ‘Next Stop, Squalor: Is Poverty Tourism ‘Poorism’, They Call It Exploration
or Exploitation?’.
86. Freire-Medeiros, ‘The Favela and Its Touristic Transits’, 586.
87. Ibid.
88. Gaffney, ‘Mega-events and Socio-spatial Dynamics in Rio de Janeiro’.
89. d’Oliveira, ‘Lula in the Labyrinth’.
90. Fortes, ‘In Search of a Post-neoliberal Paradigm’.

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Part III
The Olympics: Disciplines
14
The Making – and Unmaking? – of the
Olympic Corporate Class1
Alan Tomlinson

All these operations take money. You cannot help the developing
countries with words. You must help them with money. And
that is our policy.
Juan Antonio Samaranch2

Introductory comments

By the end of 2008, as a global economic crisis worsened, after the Olympic
nationalist boosterism of Beijing 2008 had dominated the mid-year news-
rooms, four primary Olympic sponsors had withdrawn from, or chosen not to
renew, their partnerships with the International Olympic Committee: Kodak;
John Hancock/Manulife; Johnson & Johnson; and Lenovo. Their names were
unlikely to be stripped from the marbled walls of the International Olympic
Committee’s (IOC) Olympic Museum in Lausanne, Switzerland, but the
unprecedented loss of such partners sent shockwaves through the established
international sporting economy. In this chapter, I trace the emergence within
the IOC of the new economic order, drawing upon interviews and discussions
with Olympic marketing personnel, the public memoirs of key IOC profession-
als, and documentation of the internal processes and committees of the IOC
in the late 1970s and the early 1980s. The chapter concludes with reflections
upon the fragility and volatility of sport sponsorship as a basis for the politi-
cal economy of international sport; and discussion of the astonishing way in
which the Olympic phenomenon nevertheless survives and prospers, in the
face of the vicissitudes of economic and political processes and forces.

The Samaranch revolution

The IOC’s seventh president Juan Antonio Samaranch died in 2010, and
was memorialised in hundreds of obituaries and tributes as the saviour of a

233
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
234 The Making – and Unmaking? – of the Olympic Corporate Class

boycott-ridden and economically precarious sporting institution snared in the

dynamics of the Cold War. A consensus among the obituary writers was that
his great achievement had been to modernise the Olympics, and a common
word used was ‘transformation’. Reuters wrote that Samaranch ‘will be remem-
bered as the man who shaped the face of the modern Olympic movement,
transforming it into a giant global enterprise that embodies both the best and
worst elements of modern sport’.3 Most of the obituaries, from the BBC to
the Los Angeles Times and the New York Times, emphasised his achievement
in yanking the IOC and the Olympics into the global marketplace, praising
the economic transformation that was achieved and the consequent raising
of the value of the Olympic product to unanticipated levels. Nine years earlier
Richard ‘Dick’ Pound, IOC member since 1978, and a key figure in the transfor-
mational Samaranch story, had cited three main thrusts to the achievements of
Samaranch: ‘he took over a movement that was in very bad disarray’ with the
Moscow boycott and held it together, ‘that was number one’; ‘number 2, the
‘movement was far from universal, it didn’t really have Africa and other parts
of the world within the Olympic movement’; the third was financial growth,
‘we were destitute, we had absolutely no funds, and if you’ve no funds you’ve
no ability to create your economy of action’.4 In this chapter, it is this third
thrust that provides the primary focus, though this of course overlaps with the
internationalising of the Olympics, and with its ensuring that integration was
not lost as a consequence of expansion.
When he won the presidency of the IOC, Samaranch was already a veteran
Olympic politician, having risen to positions of influence rapidly after his elec-
tion on to the IOC in 1966. Over the next decade and a half this experienced pol-
itician and Francoist (entering Franco’s administration in 1971) moved within
the diplomatic circles of his home country, Spain, and of the Soviet Union, in
Moscow, whilst oiling the wheels of power of a vulnerable and uncertain IOC.
Avery Brundage, IOC President from 1952 to 1972, recognised the power of
television and its enhanced grip on world consciousness via the satellite tech-
nologies that transformed Olympic coverage in 1964 (Tokyo) and 1968 (Mexico).
He dedicated much time and thought to how to redistribute revenues from the
television income provided for the most part by US networks, and was seriously
concerned at the commitments that the IOC and national Olympic associations
were making on the basis of the promise of revenues from future Games. He
was never, as Allen Guttmann puts it, ‘entranced by the sugarplum dream of
television revenue’,5 yet he recognised the inevitability of its increasing influ-
ence. But his approach to the companies seeking to associate themselves with
the Olympics was unequivocal; ‘When he heard names like “Rossignol” and
“Adidas”, Brundage frowned. The names had become, by the late 1960s, symbols
of temptation’.6 Brundage was aware of particular companies making deals with
athletes; at Mexico’s Summer Olympics in 1968, German businessmen Horst
 Alan Tomlinson 235

Dassler and Armin Dassler were paying athletes willing to run in Adidas and
Puma shoes;7 at the Winter Games in Grenoble, it was reported that France’s
legendary skier Jean-Claude Killy accepted 300,000 francs to switch from his
5000-franc contract with an Italian company, nicely in time for one of his associ-
ates to celebrate his gold medal with him in an extended, globally transmitted
hug with hands clad in gloves from the range of Killy’s new patron.8 Brundage
conceded nothing in his doomed battle with the forces of commercialism that
were threatening to reshape the Games and the very concept of Olympism, and
he made no compromises with the commercial forces, as represented in figures
such as Horst Dassler, that were looking to breach the traditional Olympic code.
Ireland’s Lord Killanin was president of the IOC from 1972 to 1980, and
wrote that he ‘left the IOC in funds, which have . . . increased considerably’.9
He also observed that his predecessor Brundage, a staunch defender of the
pure ideals of amateurism, and proponent of administrative patronage by the
rich and the privileged, said ‘that money was a nuisance and unimportant’.10
Killanin was realistic enough to know that Brundage’s brand of autocratic lead-
ership and zealously religious idealism was no longer suited to the emergent
and expanding world of sport media and worldwide communications.
A Commission for New Sources of Finance was established in 1982, in the
dawn of Samaranch’s presidency, initially under the chairmanship of the
Ivory Coast’s Louis Guirandou-N’Daiye,11 and subsequently that of Canadian
lawyer Dick Pound.12 Pound, as mentioned above, joined the IOC in 1978,
and, a young member still only in his mid-30s, was soon at the heart of the
economic transformation of the Olympics. Writing on the third thrust of what
he sees as Samaranch’s achievements, he credits Samaranch for the speed and
effectiveness with which the institution was changed: ‘The economic model
of the Olympic movement at the time he became president was a prescrip-
tion for disaster’.13 States and governments subsidised the Games, setting their
own political agendas and adopting their own ideological stances. The only
significant private sector support came from television revenues, 95 per cent of
which came from the United States. What Killanin had seen as a considerable
improvement in the financial position of the IOC was seen by the new order as
woefully ill-fitted to the demands of an international operation with a world-
wide profile and a barely acknowledged, let alone exploited, business and com-
mercial potential. As Killanin steered the IOC and the Olympics toward some
form of survival, commercial influences were making increasingly deep inroads
into the heart, and the corridors of power, of the Olympic institution.

Three stripes and you’re in

Horst Dassler’s strategy during the Killanin years was to present his company,
Adidas, as a benign partner, whilst building unprecedentedly wide networks
236 The Making – and Unmaking? – of the Olympic Corporate Class

across the world, and providing international athletes and teams with equipment
bearing the simple three-stripe logo of his company. It is illuminating to see his
increasing influence in the global networks of sport governance and business
at the time. There is now no shortage of acknowledgement of Dassler’s impact
and role in this transformative phase.14 In the making of the Olympic cor-
porate class, though, his contribution can hardly be overstated. Although he
died relatively young at the age of 51 in April 1987, Dassler had by then revo-
lutionised forms of sport sponsorship for two of the biggest sports events, the
men’s football World Cup, and the Olympics. His father’s firm had provided
the spikes for Jesse Owens’ running shoes at the 1936 Berlin Olympics, the year
in which Horst Dassler was born. Two decades later, as David Miller carefully
put it, he was undertaking ‘his first important role . . . the promotion of the
company’s interests at the Melbourne Olympics’.15 In fact, he was distributing
free pairs of shoes to athletes in the Olympic Village, and a further 20 years
on, at the 1976 Montreal Olympics, more than 80 per cent of competitors were
wearing Adidas clothes and footwear. Miller was less cautious about the overall
impact of Dassler:

Dassler wielded unmeasured clandestine power within the major sports fed-
erations of football and athletics, the International Olympic Committee and
others, through developing personal friendships with Havelange, Nebiolo,
Samaranch and the various presidents.16

British businessman Patrick Nally, who had worked with Dassler before he had
a fall-out with him in 1982, commented on hearing of Dassler’s death: ‘I am
convinced that never again will we see a man with such influence on sport. No
one will ever have the ability to play its politics like he did. He was a genius, a
phenomenon.’17 The journalist Ian Wooldridge himself held nothing back on
the Dassler strategy: ‘He was convinced every man had his price. Few sports
administrators of any note in the world have not enjoyed the fine wines and
exquisite cuisine during free visits to his private hotels, amid rumours that
their bedroom telephones were bugged.’18 Dassler could travel in and out of the
USSR without passport or visa, and canvass for individuals looking for elected
positions and power bases in international sport organisations. He worked
within the networks of these bodies, looking for rising stars and ambitious
allies. FIFA president Dr João Havelange was a close associate, eased into the
presidential position in 1974, helped by Dassler’s influence across networks
beyond Western Europe and North America, particularly in newly independ-
ent and developing countries of Africa and Asia as well as Central and South
America. And he spotted the ambition of Juan Antonio Samaranch, Killanin’s
successor as IOC President. From his Moscow posting, three years after the
death of Spanish dictator Franco, Samaranch was writing to Horst Dassler at
 Alan Tomlinson 237

his Landersheim base, thanking him – ‘cher ami’ – for coming to Madrid for
a meeting with Havelange, in which Samaranch was lobbying for the FIFA
President’s support in his plan to stand for the IOC presidency. A positive
outcome was noted in this ‘confidentiel’ letter, including the projection of a
programme of action for the promotion of Samaranch’s candidature.19 Once
Samaranch secured the presidency, it would be payback time.
These allies within the corridors of power shared Dassler’s goal of expanding
sport financing into forms of marketing and corporate sponsorship on unprec-
edented levels, so that when the IOC’s Commission for New Sources of Finance
was established by Samaranch in 1982, ‘in and around the new commission
hovered Horst Dassler’.20 The hovering proved spectacularly effective, and the
IOC granted the rights for marketing of the Olympics to ISL, International
Sport and Leisure, Dassler’s own offshoot marketing company that had already
acquired the worldwide marketing rights of FIFA and its World Cup. No other
tenders were invited. ISL brought selected high-profile worldwide companies
willing to buy into exclusive Olympic-related rights and associations into the
heart of the Olympic ‘family’. Samaranch is adjudged to have been ‘wildly
successful’ and to have managed the difficulties generated by that success with
‘diplomatic aplomb and patience’.21 Peter Ueberroth, president of the organising
committee of Los Angeles 1984, recalled meeting Dassler when in Switzerland
in 1982 to negotiate licensing agreements. Officially he was meeting with IOC
Director Monique Berlioux, but knew that the most important contact was
Horst Dassler: ‘It’s Berlioux’s job to keep commercialism out of the Olympics;
it’s Dassler’s to make sure every athlete bears the Adidas name in large letters on
every piece of clothing and equipment.’22 Dassler ‘carries a big checkbook’, he
added, and after a dinner with both Berlioux and Dassler, Ueberroth emerged
with IOC approval for LA’s licensing agreement with Adidas. Kenneth Reich
wrote wryly that: ‘One of the major lessons of the Olympic enterprise is that
entrepreneurs don’t make $222 million on revenues of $718 million by being
nice guys. The [Los Angeles organising] committee and its leaders were tough
and many of their dealings with the outside world were fractious’.23 Berlioux
was soon a former Director of the IOC. Dick Pound, critical of her ‘imperious
style’,24 was one of those who advised Samaranch to fire her, and in 1984 she
left the IOC, silenced by a non-disclosure clause in her settlement.
How did Dassler, with no formal Olympic role or elected status or office,
penetrate these centres of power and have such a remarkable influence? He had
‘the big checkbook’, of course, as Ueberroth put it. But he also had a fanatical
commitment to success, and an extraordinary attention to detail; he could
gain the respect of his potential partners, and put competitors in awe of his
vision, ambitions and tactics. In a 1985 interview, Dassler reaffirmed his fre-
netic international activity in between his Europe-based 15-hour working days;
Japan, Mexico, USA, USSR and China numbered among his destinations in the
238 The Making – and Unmaking? – of the Olympic Corporate Class

previous few months. Reflecting on the previous three decades, he summarised

his career:

Since 1956, I have attended all World Championships and Olympic Games.
Our business relations with East and West and with the Third World are all
equally good and equally close, irrespective of the political system. Over the
years, I have gained knowledge and contacts worldwide, and I have contacts
with sports officials in almost every country.
It is often wrongly maintained that I exercise an influence in sports poli-
tics. That is not true. I keep out of federation matters on principle. However,
when I am approached for advice, I am of course willing to establish con-
tacts and take on a mediating role. It is also a matter of aid to developing
countries, particularly on the African continent. Naturally, my company
also has an interest in this.25

This was disingenuous stuff; it was the smart politics of business. Yet Dassler
was also disarmingly frank about the connected nature of what he initially
called Adidas’s ‘strongly diversified . . . activities’:

I founded a marketing company (ISL ⫽ International Sports Culture and

Leisure) in Lucerne, in which I currently have a 50% interest . . . The staff
has increased tenfold over a short time. We have signed contracts with the
IOC, the FIFA, the UEFA and the IAAF for the exclusive marketing of the
Olympic Games and the World and European Championships. This coop-
eration, which guarantees the IOC (and thereby the NOCs) revenues to the
tune of many millions of dollars by the year 1988, is also a result of my own
great personal interest, my enthusiasm for sport and probably also of my
close personal contacts with the leaders of these organisations.26

Dassler denied influence, yet claimed a mediating role; he said that he kept
out of federation matters, but was keen to publicise his client list; he talked of
neutrality, but recognised the impact of his personal contacts. This courteous
but shady and ruthless businessman was one of the most influential figures in
international sport in the phase of its evolving relationship with the corporate
sector.

‘Territorial testosterone at play’: working the corridors of power

Dassler operated with a combination of stubbornness and stealth in the bur-

geoning network of business and marketing interests and institutions. His
ambition and vision had no boundaries, encompassing as they did the whole
world. Michael Payne joined ISL in 1983 as Olympic project manager with
 Alan Tomlinson 239

a mandate to help Dassler and ISL’s Juergen Lenz ‘create a global marketing
programme for the Olympics’ based on a ‘remarkably simple . . . basic market-
ing concept’.27 This was rights-bundling, that is, putting the IOC, the Winter
and Summer Games, and the 160-plus National Olympic Committees into a
single exclusive marketing package. Initially TOP meant nothing, Payne recalls;
it then became known as The Olympic Programme, rechristened The Olympic
Partners, but becoming a brand in its acronym form. Some companies baulked
at this vision. American Express did not believe that all the National Olympic
Committees would sign up to the TOP scheme. But Visa saw an opportunity
to trump Amex in the global marketplace, and its vice-president of market-
ing, Jan Soderstrom, saw in the Olympics ‘the ultimate merchant that takes
Visa and not Amex’.28 Amex had paid $4 million for its Los Angeles sponsor-
ship, and was initially approached by the IOC to become a TOP partner; Visa,
approached after American Express refused to meet the price, was being asked
for $14.5 million for TOP. Tough talk won the day; senior vice-president for
marketing at Visa, John Bennett, convinced his board that with the Olympics,
Visa could ‘stick the blade into the ribs of American Express’. Visa signed;
Bennett ‘later reflected that ‘the 1998 Olympic Games put us on the world
stage and gave us tons of credibility. We were players. American Express gave
up the ball’.29 Pound relates how an over-confident American Express then
engaged in ambush marketing schemes which the IOC questioned legally and
successfully: ‘Interestingly, after just a few years of the Olympic Program, no
Amex official who had been part of the initial rejection of the IOC offer was
still employed by that company’.30
Behind the idealistic and universalistic rhetoric of Olympism the brutalities
of big business dealing dominate the corridors of power and decision-making.
With the success of TOP, commitments were made to companies that they
would have exclusive rights. The IOC has had to protect this exclusivity,
sometimes in the face of outright opposition from local organising commit-
tees which Pound claims ‘have a typically myopic view of the Olympic move-
ment. They do not care a whit about anything other than their own Games’.31
So some local organising committees would look to sell sponsorship that
encroached on TOP categories. At Sydney 2000 an Australian delivery company
called TNT was contracted in this way, providing direct competition with the
TOP sponsor, the shipping, freight and logistics company UPS. UPS withdrew,
and no replacement in that category was found for 2004.
Talking in the wake of the news of the collapse of ISL into bankruptcy in
2001, Dick Pound conceded that quantities of ‘territorial testosterone’ could be
on display in the making of this new international sports economy.32 And this
was all the more so with FIFA and its World Cup in the hands of ISL, and
Dassler’s successful manoeuvring within the IOC and the TOP programme.
But there was a difference that Pound was keen to emphasise. The IOC–ISL
240 The Making – and Unmaking? – of the Olympic Corporate Class

relationship was different to that between FIFA and ISL; in the case of FIFA
it was a matter of what Pound called ‘buyout’ by ISL; in the case of the
Olympics, ‘we never had that. We always paid them for services rendered . . .
a percentage’.33 Pound has always confirmed the indispensable role of ISL in
helping the IOC put the first TOP cycles together, as the IOC had no internal
resources or skills in that sphere, and Dassler could provide the international
contacts vital to the global marketing strategy. But Pound saw ISL overstretch-
ing itself, losing focus, drifting away from the main business purpose, which
was raising money for the major events:

They couldn’t even attract or retain management talent . . . and they started
to hire people that had no ability to understand our business. It became
more unsatisfactory and we just said look, this is not working, we’ve got to
get out of this relationship, and so at the end of 1995 we had pretty well
severed it. There was a bit of a runout [a winding-down period] to save every-
body’s face but we cleared it up, entirely.34

TOP value?

Dassler was a pivotal figure in framing the new political economy of interna-
tional sports events, and in the afterglow of Los Angeles’s commercial success
and ideological impact, companies not previously associated with sport looked
to the Olympics and comparable high-profile sports events as major elements
in their worldwide marketing strategies. But three decades on from Dassler’s
death in 1987 perhaps things were about to change. Seven out of 10 of the TOP
sponsors at the 1996 Atlanta Games were no longer in the mix after 2008. As
observed at the beginning of this chapter, a third of the IOC’s 12 elite ‘world-
wide partners’ withdrew after the 2008 Beijing Games, at the end of TOP VI.
They had, though, retained a presence in full-page spreads in the IOC’s post-
Beijing special edition of its publication Olympic Review. Kodak’s stress on the
special magic of the visual image produced an androgynous hurdler in full
striding flight over a hurdle: the vast majority of the small images comprising
the multicoloured shapes of the figure and the object were of young children;
under the picture the Games were offered back to the people: ‘Cherish your
Olympic moments’ (p. 55). Johnson & Johnson (p. 45) featured Bryan Clay,
the USA’s decathlon gold medallist at Beijing, holding a toddler on his lap
whilst sitting in a garden swing: ‘You captured the gold in front of the world.
So who’d have thought your best times would happen in your own backyard?
Having a baby changes everything.’ Here, the pinnacle of Olympic achieve-
ment pales into perspective as Clay gazes down at the next generation, in a
monochrome resonant of both a nostalgia and a timelessness. Lenovo (p. 61)
stressed the togetherness of the 4 billion people worldwide, brought together
 Alan Tomlinson 241

by ‘a great idea’, and linked the great idea of the Olympics with the ‘ideas
everywhere’ that could flow from the company’s support of the Games ‘with
over 20,000 pieces of computing equipment’. Manulife (p. 24) highlighted a
young Chinese girl, Wong Lok Yiu, ‘an aspiring ballerina [who] has a dream’,
in a ballet pose, teddy bear by her side, and the caption ‘I wish I could dance
forever’. The green and white of the company’s slogan was reproduced in the
foliage framed by the pastel shades of the wall and window-frame of Wong’s
dance room. ‘We’re here to help,’ added Manulife. ‘Bringing dreams to life’ was
the slogan at the bottom of the spread. Perhaps in awareness of its imminent
withdrawal from the TOP scheme, the insurance company produced a mini-
essay on the motif of the dream:

We all have dreams. For ourselves, our families and our loved ones. At
Manulife, we have comprehensive protection products to help you fulfil
your wishes, whether for basic financial security, or an education plan to
help your child be everything she wants to be.
For over 100 years, we’ve worked all around the world making all kind of
dreams come alive. Whatever it is that’s important to you in life, we’ll sup-
port you with our global experience. So go ahead . . . dream on. We’ll help
you get there. (p. 24)

That’s five dreams and three wishes in this long-term sponsor’s farewell spread.
These four departing sponsors shared an emphasis on youth, families and the
future. Johnson & Johnson was a one-time or single-phase TOP sponsor, as was
Lenovo, the first Chinese company to partner the IOC; but Kodak and Manulife
(the erstwhile John Hancock) were long-term sponsors. Kodak had boasted, in
2004, of its 106-year pedigree as an Olympic sponsor, and employed little
rhetoric or hyperbole, relying on the evidence of its clients’ own eyes as to the
technological prowess of the brand.35 In 2004 John Hancock had celebrated
the ‘plain old virtue’ of the qualities of ‘patriotism, tolerance, selfless sacrifice,
individual excellence’,36 and used trips to the Olympics as a motivational tool
for its employees: ‘John Hancock began sponsoring the Olympics in 1993 and
continued this relationship until its acquisition by Manulife in 2004, where-
upon Manulife has since continued as one of the TOP program sponsors. John
Hancock senior management estimated that its $40 million Olympic sponsor-
ship had led to a $50 million increase in sales’.37 With such affirmative testimo-
nies, what were the reasons for withdrawing from the TOP scheme?
Kodak’s termination of its long-term association was hardly surprising, given
the changing nature of the global market for image-making technologies. A
Kodak company spokesman attributed the decision to the company’s efforts
to convey its message ‘closer to our customers’. The company’s ‘new business
strategy requires us to reassess our marketing tactics as well, and adapt them to
242 The Making – and Unmaking? – of the Olympic Corporate Class

changing market conditions and evolving customer behavior’, Kodak’s Director

of Brand Management Elizabeth Noonan stated.38
Lenovo became a TOP partner in 2004, and in the same year bought the PC
and laptop computer business of former TOP sponsor IBM. But its market share
worldwide actually fell in the year of the Beijing Games, from 7.8 per cent to
7.3 per cent, putting the company behind Acer, Dell and HP. Lenovo felt uncer-
tain about committing an estimated further $65 million, and the TOP category
was taken up by Taiwan-based rival Acer.39
Johnson & Johnson did not take up an option for any more than just the one
Olympics, expressing its pride at having been an Olympic sponsor: ‘With our
sponsorship of the Beijing 2008 Olympic Games, we set out to reinforce the
already positive perceptions of Johnson & Johnson in China’, spokeswoman
Lorie Gawreluk wrote. She added: ‘Thanks to our association with these Games
and the International Olympic Committee we’ve been successful in reaching
those goals.’40 But the healthcare company felt underexposed at Beijing. Its
pavilion in the Beijing Olympics Green Area drew disappointingly low num-
bers to see its products or sample its customised wares, attributed in part to the
effects of over-zealous security personnel. A statement that the company was
choosing to focus on other business priorities could not disguise the fact that
the Olympic sponsorship was relatively disappointing for the US-based health-
care and pharmaceuticals giant.
Manulife made little of its decision to cease sponsorship, at least in the public
sphere. It had in fact inherited the sponsorship status in its takeover of John
Hancock, a TOP partner since 1993, and clearly Manulife’s sales in Asia and
China in the run-up to and during Beijing 2008 were boosted by the sponsor-
ship status. But perhaps that was enough; exposure to the world’s largest emer-
gent market as a one-off, and then some caution as to a further investment of
something around $100 million for a renewal. In a reversal of the policy of the
TOP era, the insurance category was then handed back by the IOC to National
Olympic Associations/Organizing Committees to do with it what they chose.

Concluding comment

The capacity of the Olympics to remake its own myth, to attract political
and economic partners in its cycle of self-renewal, has been remarkable. IOC
President Jacques Rogge wrote in 2004, the year of the Athens Games: ‘The
Olympic Games are the most prestigious sports event that a city can organize.
They are the dream and fulfilment of young athletes. They also represent an
extraordinary sporting, social, cultural and environmental legacy for the host
city, the region and the country.’41 He added that ‘as a catalyst for urban rede-
velopment’ the Games are accelerators of change, enabling changes over seven
years that would usually take decades to accomplish.
 Alan Tomlinson 243

From a marketing perspective, the Olympic phenomenon is unique: ‘The

Olympics epitomize prestige and distinction, qualities associated with the rare
and the unique . . . They are analogous to a limited edition, exclusive luxury
item, never to be offered twice in exactly the same way’.42 Davis adds that vic-
torious Olympic athletes are perceived as special kinds of winners:

they are seen as extraordinarily heroic individuals who won in an exclusive,

even rare, form of international competition against the very best competi-
tors from around the world. The exclusive appeal of the Olympic Games,
combined with the unique, even daunting challenges athletes undertake,
creates a compelling, irresistible quality that motivates companies to support
the Olympics in the hope of benefiting from the associated halo effect.43

And at the level of rhetoric, the Olympics can still serve as a stage for the
highest and noblest of human ideals. At the Albertville Winter Games in 1992,
Samaranch called for a cease-fire in the Balkans, asking the stadium to ‘rise in
silent tribute to the fallen city of Sarajevo’, Olympic hosts just 10 years before:
‘“The Olympic Movement is stronger than ever”, he said as a slight snow fell.
“Please stop the fighting. Please stop the killing. Drop your guns.”’44
The halo effect continues to work for the sponsoring corporation on one of
the biggest stages in human history. The uniqueness of the Olympic product
is presented to the biggest television audiences in Olympic history: at Beijing,
‘more than 5,000 hours of live high-definition coverage for broadcasters in 220
territories’ (Olympic Review, p. 48), in the first-ever fully digital Games; and ‘the
first to be broadcast entirely in High Definition and in stereo surround sound’
(p. 51). The total of dedicated coverage was 61,700 hours.
Online coverage of Beijing 2008, from ‘the sample of sites for which sta-
tistics were available’, generated ‘a total of 8.2 billion page views and over
628 million video streams’.45 The 4.3 billion people who had home access to
official broadcast coverage constituted 63 per cent of the world’s population.
Economic recession may have dented the commitment of some sponsors, but
figures like these will without doubt keep the Olympic bandwagon rolling. If
there is a dip in the fortunes of the corporate Olympic class, the single com-
pany may feel that one cycle of Olympic partnership is enough, or that volatile
global markets make the Olympic partnership too high a risk. But sufficient
stalwart partners in fast food and soft drinks, communications technology and
financial services, complemented by parvenu sponsors looking to achieve glo-
bal profile or regional dominance, remain willing to invest sufficiently in the
five rings to sustain the Olympic brand.
In 1976 there was no significant corporate class to provide financial lever-
age for the Olympic Games in Montreal, Canada, an event that accumulated
a debt for the city of $1.5 billion, which took 30 years to pay off.46 Writer Jack
244 The Making – and Unmaking? – of the Olympic Corporate Class

Ludwig saw through the staged bonhomie of Montreal’s closing ceremony,

what he called ‘waning moments’ of realisation that ‘this was indeed the end.
Tomorrow there was – nothing. The Swimming Pool would be dark. Repair
work would have to begin on the leaky Velodrome roof’.47 Los Angeles 84 and
the Samaranch economic model changed the tone, the pitch of the event, and
boosted the rhetoric of Olympism as well as the coffers of the IOC. But outside
Athens, the proud facilities of 2004 lie unwanted and neglected, the bold white
architecture of the Olympic stadium and complex soiled by the overgrowing
weeds, a monument to the financial excesses that destabilised the Greek econ-
omy. Olympic facilities in Seoul 1988 may have changed the world’s perception
of South Korea, as emergent Asian Tiger, but the stadium has more use as a film
set for gangster and thriller movies than for sporting events and occasions. And
even at the majestic Sydney complex at Homebush Bay – again, an Olympics
claimed to have transformed the image of a nation and not just a city – the facil-
ities built for the 2000 Games attract only occasional use. In Beijing, three years
after its 2008 spectacular, the Bird’s Nest and the Cube draw in local people
playing recreational sports on an informal basis, rather than high-performance
competitive events. As this piece went to press, vicious arguments were raging
in London, England, over the post-2012 fate of the Olympic Stadium, with foot-
ball clubs Tottenham Hotspur and West Ham United fighting for the privilege
of defending any remnant of London’s bidding pledge to guarantee an athletics
legacy for the city and the country; Lamine Diack, president of the International
Association of Athletics Federations (IAAF), raged that it would be a ‘big lie’ if
the stadium was torn down, or used exclusively for football.48 The arguments
might continue within the extended networks of the Olympic Family, but the
loyalists and arrivistes within the corporate class would be beyond all of this,
seeing such legacy talk as no more than a local skirmish, as they eyed the hotel
bookings for London 2012 and the flight schedules for Rio 2016.

Notes
1. This chapter draws upon research supported by the British Academy’s small grants
scheme for my personal research on ‘The construction and mediation of the sporting
spectacle in Europe, 1992–2004’.
2. Fortune 500, Empowering the Olympic Movement: A Look at the Business Dynamics behind
the Olympics.
3. Rogers, ‘Obituary – Olympics – Samaranch Transformed Olympic Movement’.
4. Tomlinson, Interview with Richard W. (‘Dick’) Pound, May 2001.
5. Guttmann, The Olympics: A History of the Modern Games, 214.
6. Ibid., 213.
7. Barney et al., Selling the Five Rings: The International Olympic Committee and the Rise of
Olympic Commercialism, 83.
8. Guttmann, Olympics, 220.
9. Killanin, My Olympic Years, 154.
 Alan Tomlinson 245

10. Ibid.
11. Guirandou-N’Daiye died in 1999, his IOC service from 1969 tarnished when he was
censured ‘for accepting gifts over the allowable limit and for allowing Salt Lake City
officials to pay for his wife’s flight to Budapest in June 1995 for the vote to award
the 2002 Winter Games’ (New York Times obituary, 8 June 1999).
12. Miller, The Official History of the Olympic Games and the IOC: Athens to Beijing,
1894–2008, 259.
13. Pound, Inside the Olympics: A Behind-the-scenes Look at the Politics, the Scandals, and the
Glory of the Games, 140.
14. See Smit, Pitch Invasion: Adidas, Puma and the Making of Modern Sport; and Symson
and Jennings, The Lords of the Rings: Power, Money and Drugs in the Modern Olympics.
15. Miller ‘Powers Beyond the Field of Sport’, 42.
16. Ibid.
17. Wooldridge, ‘Who Can Fill Shoes of the Godfather of Sport?’.
18. Ibid.
19. Letter dated 27 October 1978, Adidas box, IOC Papers, Olympic Museum,
Lausanne.
20. Pound, Inside the Olympics, 141.
21. Wenn and Martyn, ‘Juan Antonio Samaranch’s Score Sheet: Revenue Generation and
the Olympic Movement, 1980–2001’, 310, 311.
22. Ueberroth, Made in America: His Own Story, 166.
23. Reich, Making It Happen: Peter Ueberroth and the 1984 Olympics, 120.
24. Pound, Inside the Olympics, 238.
25. Lutz , ‘A Day with Horst Dassler’.
26. Ibid.
27. Payne, Olympic Turnaround: How the Olympic Games Stepped Back from the Brink of
Extinction to Become the World’s Best Known Brand – and a Multi-billion Dollar Global
Franchise, 79.
28. Ibid., 85.
29. Ibid., 86.
30. Pound, Inside the Olympics, 152.
31. Ibid., 150.
32. Tomlinson, Interview with Richard W. (‘Dick’) Pound.
33. Ibid.
34. Ibid.
35. Tomlinson, ‘The Commercialization of the Olympics: Cities, Corporations, and the
Olympic Commodity’, 191.
36. Ibid.
37. Davis, The Olympic Games Effect: How Sports Marketing Builds Strong Brands, 215.
38. Paul, ‘Kodak to End Olympics Sponsorship after 2008 Games’.
39. McGlamery, ‘Did Lenovo Waste Olympic Sponsorship?’.
40. USA Today, ‘Johnson & Johnson Out as Olympic Sponsor’.
41. Preuss, The Economics of Staging the Olympics: A Comparison of the Games 1972–2008, xiv.
42. Davis, The Olympic Games Effect, 5.
43. Ibid.
44. Fortune 500, Empowering the Olympic Movement, unpaginated.
45. Sponsorship Intelligence, Games of the XXIX Olympiad, Beijing 2008: Global Television
and Online Media Report.
46. CBC, ‘Quebec’s Big Owe Stadium Debt is Over’.
47. Ludwig, Five Ring Circus: The Montreal Olympics, 164.
246 The Making – and Unmaking? – of the Olympic Corporate Class

48. In a melee of legal wrangling, West Ham United’s successful application was over-
turned in October 2011. The following month, London landed the 2017 world
athletics championships, prevailing by 16 votes to 10 against Doha (Qatar). The
stadium would be retained for athletics, and the blushes of the organisers were for
the moment spared. A late offer of £4.5 million, to match Doha’s commitment to
cover the prize-funds, did London’s bid no harm. The IAAF pledged to commit those
monies to worldwide development projects. Lamine Diack mellowed on the ‘big lie’:
‘Now, we are all agreed that it will be a stadium of athletics and we don’t talk about a
stadium of 25,000, it’s a stadium of 60,000 now. I am happy. We deliver now and we
have to work together.’ See: www.guardian.co.uk/sport/2011/nov/11/london-2017-
world-athletics-championships.

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McGlamery, T. (2008) ‘Did Lenovo Waste Olympic Sponsorship?’, Around the Rings,
19 October 2008.
Miller, D. (1987) ‘Powers Beyond the Field of Sport’, The Times, 11 April, 42.
Miller, D. (1992) Olympic Revolution: The Olympic Biography of Juan Antonio Samaranch
(London: Pavilion Books).
Miller, D. (2008) The Official History of the Olympic Games and the IOC: Athens to Beijing,
1894–2008 (Edinburgh and London: Mainstream Publishing).
Paul, F. (2007) ‘Kodak to End Olympics Sponsorship after 2008 Games’, Reuters US
Edition (12 October), at: www.reuters.com/article/2007/10/12/us-kodak-olympics-idUS
WEN164520071012 (accessed 8 February 2011).
Payne, M. (2005) Olympic Turnaround: How the Olympic Games Stepped Back from the Brink
of Extinction to Become the World’s Best Known Brand – and a Multi-billion Dollar Global
Franchise (Twyford: London Business Press).
Pound, R. W. (2004) Inside the Olympics: A Behind-the-scenes Look at the Politics, the
Scandals, and the Glory of the Games (Mississauga: John Wiley & Sons Canada Ltd).
Preuss, H. (2004) The Economics of Staging the Olympics: A Comparison of the Games 1972–2008
(Cheltenham: Edward Elgar).
Reich, K. (1986) Making It Happen: Peter Ueberroth and the 1984 Olympics (Santa Barbara:
Capra Press).
 Alan Tomlinson 247

Rogers, I. (2010) ‘Obituary – Olympics – Samaranch Transformed Olympic Movement’,

Reuters US Edition (21 April), at: www.reuters.com/article/2010/04/21/olympics-
samaranch-obituary-idUSLDE63K0QS20100421 (accessed 9 February 2011).
Smit, B. (2007) Pitch Invasion: Adidas, Puma and the Making of Modern Sport (London:
Penguin).
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Historical and Sociological Studies of the Modern Games (Oxford: Elsevier), 179–200.
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(New York: William Morrow and Company, Inc.).
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April.
15
The Economics and Marketing of
the Olympic Games from Bid
Phase to Aftermath
Christopher A. Shaw

Introduction

In all phases of a city’s planning for obtaining and conducting the Olympics,
economic considerations are of paramount importance. During the bid phase
before the Games have been awarded, organisers in each bid city tend often
to wildly underestimate costs and overestimate potential benefits in order to
generate and maintain public support. At the same time, bids submitted to the
International Olympic Committee (IOC) have to be sufficiently robust to
convince IOC members that the projected costs are sufficient to carry out the
Games preparations and operations. During the preparation phase, successful
cities have to juggle inevitably rising costs and negative public perceptions of
the same. Some of the costs are the consequence of predicted changes in labour
or materials combined with unexpected movements in market forces. Not least,
the original low-ball cost estimates become particularly problematic during this
period as it becomes apparent to even the corporate media that the projections
are seriously out of synch with reality. It is during this phase that the economic
realities of hosting the Olympic Games become clearest to the public that will
actually pay the bulk of the costs. These include not only the cost ‘creep’ where
the public is bombarded with a virtually endless litany of additional costs, but
also the growing realisation that so-called opportunity costs will be part of the
final tally. Finally, during the run-up to the Games, the actual operating phases,
and the post-Games euphoria, public perceptions will have largely shifted away
from economic concerns: Games supporters now bask in the afterglow irrespec-
tive of the total costs while critics are burned out and cynical.
In the following, I will examine the economics of Vancouver’s 2010 Winter
Olympics from bid phase to a year post-Games. I will put Vancouver’s experi-
ence with the Olympics into a context that embraces other bidding cities,
examining what seem to be common themes regardless of the success or failure
of their respective bid outcomes. Some of these themes include the ‘frame’

248
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 Christopher A. Shaw 249

within which the Games are marketed to the public, the economic and social
projections of Games benefits, and the ultimate spin of the eventual, and pre-
dictable, economic outcomes. Vancouver’s case, apart from being personally
observed over a span of almost nine years, is also particularly instructive since
Vancouver served as an acknowledged model for one successful bid (Sochi 2014)
and two failed bids (Chicago 2016; Tromsø 2018). Particularly notable similari-
ties in the economics of the Games in other recent Olympic cities (Athens 2004;
Torino 2006, Beijing 2008; London 2012) will be briefly considered.

A brief history of Vancouver’s 2010 Winter Olympic Games

Members of Vancouver’s business community launched their efforts to cap-

ture the 2010 Games in 1998 with the incorporation of an entity called
the Vancouver-Whistler 2010 Bid Society. Largely organised and staffed by
prominent members of Vancouver’s development and real estate sectors, the
Bid Society managed to obtain $50,000 in provincial funding for its nascent
efforts (all currency is in Canadian dollars, unless otherwise indicated). The
Bid Society lobbied different levels of government on the proposed economic
and social benefits of hosting the Games and served as a vehicle to promote
Vancouver to the Canadian Olympic Committee.
In regard to the lobbying efforts with government, the Bid Society had an easy
task. The ruling civic party, the Non-Partisan Association (NPA), had controlled
municipal politics for years. It was, to all intents and purposes, a solidly busi-
ness party with strong ties to the real estate sector. Indeed, a former mayor, later
BC Premier Gordon Campbell, had come out of this sector to enter public life.
The provincial government, then under the control of the notionally pseudo-
socialist New Democratic Party (NDP), might have seemed an odd choice of
partners to be pushing for a bid clearly driven by real estate interests, but the
NDP had strong ties to many in the industry, notably to developer Jack Poole,
the later head of the future Bid Corporation (Bid Corp). Indeed, the groupings
that surrounded both the Bid Society and later the Bid Corp reflected less a left
as against a right ideology than one that favoured public money in support of
urban development. In this aspect, the NDP showed more similarities with the
next ruling party, the B.C. Liberals, than most citizens appreciated at the time.
In 1999, the Canadian Olympic Committee chose Vancouver over competing
national cities to launch the Canadian bid for the 2010 Games. The Bid Society
which had already been delisted by the provincial government for failing to file
financial reports was replaced by a new entity, the Vancouver-Whistler 2010
Bid Corporation.1 If the old Bid Society had been mostly drawn from the corpo-
rate sector, the new Bid Corp was even more so. The board of directors looked
like a ‘who’s who’ of British Columbia and Alberta real estate and corporate
interests.2 Included in the new line-up were Stanley Kwok and Caleb Chan, the
250 The Economics and Marketing of the Olympic Games

latter having also served on the Bid Society, and numerous others who orbited
within the real estate solar system dominated by Li Ka Shing, multi-billionaire
Hong Kong businessman and a key developer with huge financial interests in
the 2008 Beijing Summer Games.
Heading up the Bid Corp was Jack Poole, Concert Properties’ chairman
and former CEO of various Vancouver real estate companies that Poole had
founded and run: DAON, Vancouver Land Corporation (VLC) and Greystone
Properties. Poole was the doyen of the Vancouver real estate world. His ties
with the political elite were numerous and deeply rooted, but none was to
prove more crucial to Vancouver’s Olympic bid than Gordon Campbell,
Vancouver’s mayor when Poole founded VLC and Premier soon after the Bid
Corp came into existence.3
By the early summer of 2002, the Bid Corp had all three levels of govern-
ment, municipal, provincial and federal, firmly on side, each ready to help
with the financing for the $34 million that made up the Bid Corp’s war chest
in its campaign to win the 2010 Games. As noted above, given the parties in
power at various levels, this level of support had not been difficult to find.
In the autumn of 2002, the Bid Corp produced a slick ‘Bid Book’ which high-
lighted for the IOC and British Columbians why they thought Vancouver’s bid
was best of all the candidate cities. The Bid Corp’s signature slogan, ‘It’s our
time to shine’, would later be copied almost verbatim by Chicago’s failed bid
for the 2016 Summer Olympics (‘Let friendship shine’).
In support of the Bid, the city’s pro-Bid NPA government hoisted Olympic
banners on every street pole in the downtown core. The Bid Corp had learned
from its sister organisation in Toronto, TOBid, which had failed to snag the
1996 and 2008 Games, that demonstrations of public support were something
that the IOC took seriously. To make sure that the IOC got the point, all levels
of government along with the Bid Corp began a massive advertising campaign
in the local media. ‘I’m backing the Bid’ and ‘It’s our time to shine’ bumper
stickers were passed out to any who would take them.
In lock step with the public relations campaign, the Bid Corp’s initial mes-
saging was based on the supposed economic benefits that hosting the Olympic
Games would bring to Vancouver and British Columbia. The province, then in
an economic slump, was assured that the Olympics would turn the economic
situation around. Bid Corp members and those in the municipal and provincial
governments were quick to focus on the alleged financial success of the 1988
Calgary Winter Olympics. Neither Bid Corp, nor its many supporters, how-
ever, chose to refer to a report by Toronto Star reporter Thomas Walkom who
had shown that the Calgary Games actually ran a $1 billion deficit when all
costs were counted.4 As was typically the case and would be for the Vancouver
Bid and the Games themselves, supporters and the mainstream media simply
ignored the vast infrastructure and security costs, focusing public attention
 Christopher A. Shaw 251

instead on the difference between Games operating revenues and operating

costs. In Calgary’s case, the final revenues from the Games themselves had
shown a modest profit. That this vanished when all costs were totalled simply
went unreported. Bid Corp supporters also touted projected economic benefits
forecast in a study written for the provincial government by Intervistas. The
latter estimates were based on a large number of questionable assumptions and
would later prove to be almost totally incorrect.5
However, back in 2002, the Bid Corp pitch went something like this: the
total cost of hosting the 2010 Games will come in at just over a billion dollars,
about $660 million of it for construction of the various sports venues and for
security. These costs would be paid for out of the public purse, but would pay
back the economy many times over in jobs, tourism and resulting taxes from
both flowing into the treasury. Most of the operating costs would be paid by
private sponsors and would generate windfall profits in actual Games revenues.
Such arguments are similar to those cited by any bid organiser in any city
hoping to convince its citizens of the value of the Olympics as an economic
driver. Various cities that followed Vancouver in the bid process for later Games
such as Chicago (2016 Summer Games) and Tromsø (Norway) (2018 Winter
Games) would make the same claims in their failed bids. Successful bid cities,
London (2012), Sochi (2014) and others before them would make the same
claims about the positive economic benefits accruing to Olympic host cities.
About this time, as part of their overall marketing campaign, Vancouver’s Bid
Corp also began a very successful campaign to remove any potential opposi-
tion by the strategic use of politically correct words: Vancouver’s bid would
be ‘socially inclusive’, would aid the poor by creating job opportunities and
social housing, it would be the ‘greenest’ Games ever, and it would enhance
1st Nations financial dreams and showcase native culture. The arts commu-
nity would have an ‘arts Olympics’ and arts legacies, and their own chance to
shine in the eyes of the world. The business sector and its chief cheerleader,
the Vancouver Board of Trade, never exactly a hard sell, were promised a big-
ger convention centre and a raft of goodies, including enhanced tourism.
Organised labour got promises of unionised jobs. Once again, these selling
points would be mirrored almost verbatim in the bids of future cities that
sought to copy Vancouver’s success.

Framing the debate about the Olympic Games

The frame of any debate is composed of the boundaries, the premises and
assumptions, the very rules about how existing or alternative paradigms will be
viewed and by which new information can be accepted or rejected.
The carefully constructed frame put forward by the Bid Corp, the business
community, and by the numerous politicians on-side with Vancouver’s bid
252 The Economics and Marketing of the Olympic Games

was that the Olympic Games from their inception thousands of years ago right
up to the present day have been about the power of elite athletics to promote
peace and understanding amongst the nations. In this depiction, the Olympics
carry on this sacred task, unifying the world for 17 glorious days in a celebra-
tion of athletic perfection. On ice rinks and basketball courts, luge (toboggan)
runs and swimming pools, the youth of the world come together in a magical
land whose only language is that of pure sports. The official mantra remains
that the redemptive power of the Olympics makes possible positive human
interactions that otherwise would not occur.
The framing of the Olympics in this manner is no accident: the IOC has
assiduously built the frame over decades using local organising committees
and a usually compliant media to sell it to the world’s inhabitants. Each two
years at alternating Summer or Winter Games, the world gets its booster shot
of saturation exposure. The official frame not only has the huge advantage of
massive repetition, but also plays strongly into the basic human emotional
response to spectacle and pageantry. Opening and closing ceremonies are
classic examples of how the emotions of average people can be manipulated to
create a bond between the audience and the Olympics. Athletes and spectators
alike speak of being ‘transformed’ by the Olympic experience.

Constructing Olympic bids

The above set-up and progression of Vancouver’s Olympic bid was absolutely
typical of the genre. Like successful (and unsuccessful) bids by different cities
in the past, Vancouver’s bid emphasised the official frame, dangled financial
prizes in front of the citizenry, played to local pride, and used politically correct
phrases like ‘social inclusivity’ and ‘the greenest Games ever’, to sell the mes-
sage, regardless of any later plan to actually carry out these goals. As Lenskyj
and others have described, the same formula worked for Sydney, Australia, in
their capture of the 2000 Summer Olympics6 and in fact had been part of what-
ever unofficial script exists for bids since at least that time.
The key factor that seemed to determine if a bid is going to be successful
is the presence of a compliant media that emphasises the positive while
negating the negative impacts of the Games on a city. Indeed, without media
cooperation in this regard, selling an Olympic bid turns out to be a rather dif-
ficult task. As the common wisdom has it, elections normally revolve around
peoples’ economic wellbeing, or lack thereof, and selling an Olympic bid in a
large measure means convincing enough people that the financial benefits for
them exceed the costs. It is here that the media plays a particular role by pro-
viding past exemplars of financial success ostensibly delivered by the Olympic
adventure. In Vancouver’s case, the economic touchstone was the 1988 Calgary
Winter Games cited above.
 Christopher A. Shaw 253

In citing Calgary, Bid organisers and the different levels of government

sought to allay concerns about costs associated with hosting the Games in
2010. To do so, each cited the Intervistas report with its projected economic
benefits in jobs, revenues and tourism while downplaying the major infra-
structure projects that were considered essential to winning the Games: a new
convention centre which could serve as a media centre during the Games, an
upgraded four-lane Sea to Sky highway linking West Vancouver and the ski
resort of Whistler, and a mass transit train/subway termed the RAV line (later
named the ‘Canada Line’). Each of these projects were promoted as ‘Olympic
legacies’ while denying that they would contribute to Olympic costs. The ini-
tial convention centre budget had been just under half a billion dollars which
would later balloon to nearly $900 million. The Sea to Sky highway upgrade
was estimated at close to billion dollars.7 The RAV line would cost $2.2 billion.8
Keeping these projects off the official Olympic cost tally would allow Bid Corp
and the different levels of government to hold to their official projected bill to
taxpayers of $660 million, the latter to be shared equally by the provincial and
federal governments. Of particular interest in this cost estimate was the budget
for Games security, pegged at $175 million. This number would be defended
to the end by the Bid Corp’s successor organisation, VANOC, and the provin-
cial government long after the federal government acknowledged that the real
security costs would reach nearly $1 billion.9
In none of these projections was there mention of costs to the City of
Vancouver itself. Indeed, Vancouver mayor Larry Campbell would tell Vancou-
verites in 2003 that the Games would not cost Vancouverites ‘one penny’. Just
how inaccurate this statement was will be shown below, but at the time this
reassurance served to convince a section of the Vancouver electorate that the
Games came only with an economic upside. Mayor Richard Daley of Chicago,
promoting Chicago’s 2016 hopes, would later make almost identical claims for
both security costs and the overall financial exposure of Chicagoans. In this
regard at least, Chicago’s failed bid used tried to mimic more than Vancouver’s
Olympic slogan (‘Let friendship shine’ vs Vancouver’s ‘Our time to shine’).

From Bid to opening ceremony: following the changing

market analysis

The IOC awarded the 2010 Winter Olympics to Vancouver in Prague in July 2003,
passing over Pyeongchang (South Korea) and Salzburg (Austria) in the process.
Almost immediately, the Bid Corp morphed into the Vancouver Organizing
Committee for the Winter Games (VANOC) and just as rapidly the previously rosy
economic forecasts began to run into trouble. First, Bid Corp’s and later VANOC’s
CEO, John Furlong, went back to the provincial and federal governments to
request an additional $110 million in funding above and beyond the initial
254 The Economics and Marketing of the Olympic Games

request of $660 million. This request was based on the supposedly unpredictable
nature of commodity prices for construction of the venues, although such cost
increases were supposed to have been built into the original bid. Furlong assured
British Columbians that this would be the last request for additional funding, an
assertion seconded by both levels of government. In spite of this, over the next
seven years, VANOC would return to both for additional funding for the Olympic
opening and closing ceremonies and a host of other expenses. Additionally,
VANOC would request, and receive, the secondment of hundreds of provincial
government employees to fill out positions in the organisation. Such person-
nel were not included as Olympic costs by either VANOC or the government in
Victoria. Similar staff and logistic support came from the City of Vancouver.
Vancouver’s own Olympic financial impact turned out to be considerably
larger than that of ‘not one penny’ stated by Mayor Larry Campbell in 2003. As
cited above, the city seconded numerous staffers who worked on the Olympic
file during the bid phase in 2002–03 and right through to the final closing of
the Paralympic Games in March 2010. The city’s contributions consisted of
funding for the RAV line, cost overruns to various Olympic venues in the city,
police equipment and overtime, the so-called celebratory sites in the down-
town core, and a host of other expenses. The estimated total for these ‘free’
items came in at a staggering $554.3 million,10 a not inconsiderable sum for a
city whose legislated and legally binding operating budget is just under $900
million per annum and whose total valuation as assessed by their Property
Endowment Fund (PEF) currently stands at approximately $1.4 billion.11
As bad as all of this was, it paled in comparison to the financial failure of the
Athletes’ Village project that was supposed to net the city a tidy profit of $193
million. In brief, the Village was part of Vancouver’s commitment to the IOC
under the Host City Agreement signed in 2003 to provide a city-based Athletes’
Village to house the athletes in 2010. In the spring of 2006, the city announced
that it had chosen a developer for the project based on a competition involv-
ing four competitors. The winner, Millennium Development Corporation,
had, according to the city, been chosen partially because it offered $20 million
more than the others. The outline of the basic plan was this: the city would
pay for remediation of the site, a former industrial area, would pay for some
infrastructure (sewers, lighting and the like) and would pay the costs for 252
of the planned 1100 total condominium units. These units would remain the
property of the city to do with as it wished; the remainder would belong to
Millennium to sell in the market. Millennium would pay a deposit of about $29
million on the total $193 million, the remainder to be paid once the Games
were over in the spring of 2010.
It all formed part of a long-term strategy for what the city grandly called
the Southeast False Creek development plan. The key idea was that the
 Christopher A. Shaw 255

Village would be a showcase for the city, the first of three such parcels in
Southeast False Creek to be developed into mixed residential housing and
retail outlets.
City planners were of the then prevailing view that the only way the real
estate market could go was up and saw apparently this as a sound investment.
This attitude, combined with Olympic enthusiasm, led to what would become
a series of disastrous oversights and miscalculations. The first was that the
then City Manager along with the project coordinator for the Village failed
in their due diligence in selecting Millennium. First, they apparently had not
conducted any serious scrutiny of the company’s history or financial position.
Had they done so, they would have realised that Millennium had a less than
pristine record for past developments and that their financing was very prob-
lematic. Second, they would have realised that Millennium had ties through
a subsidiary leading directly back to the city’s ruling party. The financing was
particularly problematic: Millennium had indeed offered $20 million more
than the other companies, but was itself held up by loans from Fortress Capital,
a New York-based hedge fund.
Not long after the project got under way, a new city government found out
the true state of Millennium’s financing and had to dip into the city’s reserve
funds, the Property Endowment Fund, to cover Millennium’s shortfalls for
material and labour costs. Soon after that, to keep the project from collapsing
completely, Vancouver was forced to take over and refinance the mortgage on
the property, in essence becoming the mortgage holder at a potential liability
to city taxpayers of nearly $1 billion.12
The Village project that was supposed to be a future model and financial
windfall for the city had become a financial nightmare. By 2011, Vancouver
was still struggling to sell off the units in the midst of a real estate slump in
order to recoup at least some of the costs. Some buyers who purchased condos
during the pre-Games hype have now sued Millennium in order to get their
money back. At the same time, a variety of previously papered-over problems
in the construction of the Village have come to light.13 All of these issues have
combined to make recovering the cost of building the Village, let alone reap-
ing a profit, highly problematic. Of note, the city’s Property Endowment fund
holds approximately $1.4 billion.14
It is also worth noting that a second Athletes’ Village in Whistler, the second
host city for the 2010 Games, is likewise in serious trouble. As of this writing,
Whistler has stopped selling the market lots at the Whistler Athletes Village
because there seems to be no demand. In part, this stems from the fact that the
Village is built next to an asphalt plant. Whistler now has to pay back a $100
million loan but may be unable to do so since the loan payment is dependent
on the selling of 22 market lots for about $1 million each.15
256 The Economics and Marketing of the Olympic Games

Post-Games: financial hangover

Not long after the Games, the provincial government released its 2010 budget
acknowledging that the projected debt was larger than predicted. The finance
minister, however, was quick to state that the situation would have been
even more dire but for the economic ‘stimulus’ provided by the Games. The
additional debt of nearly $1 billion matched very closely the acknowledged
provincial cost of the Olympics which had been pegged at half of $660 million
plus the $110 million additional funds requested by VANOC. The province
continued to deny that they were responsible in any way for the vastly higher
security budget that had mysteriously risen from $175 million in 2002 to
nearly a $1 billion in 2010. Instead of paying the federal government half of
the final tab, British Columbia agreed to accept a diminution of the normal
transfer of federal to provincial funds to account for the difference.
The City of Vancouver continued to struggle with the enormous costs that
it had incurred for hosting the Games, not even counting the Village debacle,
and began to lay off staff. In 2011, the city has a projected operating budget
shortfall of $20 million and is now contemplating raising property taxes and
cutting services. Concerning the latter, right after the 2010 Games closed, the
City of Vancouver administration cut staff.
It remains remarkably difficult to get a final financial accounting for the Games
as many of the costs have not been revealed by the three levels of government
involved. Nevertheless, a conservative estimate accounting for venues, contri-
butions to operations, security, the two Villages, and the major infrastructure
projects would put the final tally above $7 billion and likely closer to $8 billion.
In context, a final economic forecast released in 2009 by Pricewaterhouse
Coopers put the total contribution to the British Columbia economy at about
$1 billion.16
The rosy pre-Olympic projections of increased real estate values and height-
ened tourism, perhaps responsive to the 2008–09 recession, did not occur.
The two Athletes’ Villages in Vancouver and Whistler, as cited above, remain
plagued with problems such that recovering the full costs now seems unlikely.
The convention centre, whose costs soared to nearly double the initial esti-
mate, leaks. The RAV line has already suffered mechanical breakdowns and
disruptions in service.

Comparisons to other bid cities, past and future:

marketing and economics (macro to micro)

In neither the marketing of the Games to the public nor in selling the city to
the IOC do successful bid cities vary all that significantly. For example, while
Vancouver’s Bid Corp and later VANOC could deliberately underestimate the
 Christopher A. Shaw 257

true costs and largely get away with it, a bid such as Chicago’s failed run at the
2016 Games was simply too far from reality to be believed. The Chicago bid
committee, for example, put forward a total budget of US$5 billion, almost all
of it supposed to come from the private sector. Vancouver’s financial woes were
already in the news at the time and the Chicago media simply weren’t buying
the official story of the bid coordinators or Mayor Richard Daley. The Chicago
media and public were also acutely aware that projects completed ‘on time and
on budget‘ do not routinely happen in that city. The IOC wasn’t buying the
Chicago numbers either, especially given that they know better than most that
Summer Olympics never come in at bargain basement prices.
The blatant discrepancy between the financial experiences of other cities,
notably Vancouver, and the Chicago budget caused public support to drop
sharply. In contrast, the Vancouver Bid Corp fought the plebiscite on the
Games by referring, erroneously, to Calgary’s supposed economic outcomes
from the 1988 Olympics. Vancouver’s security numbers at the time of the bid
were totally fabricated as the IOC clearly knew from documents obtained by
this writer following an Access to Information request, but both the IOC and
different levels of government equally knew that if the bid were awarded, the
price would be paid regardless of what it might end up being.
In context to the above, it is worthwhile considering the costs of Olympic
Games over the last ten years. The following are merely estimates given the
routine lack of transparency in accounting. Also, the final costs for London’s
2012 Games or those in Sochi (2014) cannot be predicted. However, here is
the picture which emerges: Sydney (2000), AU$6.6 billion (but auditors were
never able to come up with accurate tallies); Salt Lake City (2002), $US2 billion
(same problem with accounting as Sydney); Athens (2004), upwards of $US14
billion; Torino (2006), $US3.6 billion; Beijing (2008), $US33 billion; Vancouver
(2010), $CAD7 billion plus; London (2012), as of 2009, almost US$17 billion;
Sochi (2014), unknown.17 It is important to note that these numbers are likely
underestimates based on publicly available records and do not likely reflect
various ‘hidden‘ costs such as the secondment of public employees.
In countries like China and Russia, obtaining accurate numbers is simply
impossible given the nature of these states. Unfortunately, even in democra-
cies, the tendency of organising committees and governments to hide the true
costs from their publics makes determining the true numbers most daunting
for those attempting an independent audit of Games expenditures. In spite of
this, a few facts are apparent when comparing initial bid cost estimates to the
approximate final tally. First, cost escalations of three to over ten times are not
unusual. For example, Vancouver’s bid book of $660 million of public funds
rose to greater than $7 billion. Second, Summer Games are at least double the
cost of Winter Games. Third, security costs now routinely are over a billion
dollars, regardless of whether the Games are Winter or Summer.
258 The Economics and Marketing of the Olympic Games

The above are the overall costs for hosting the Olympic Games, but these do
not touch on two rarely considered economic considerations. The first of these
is the microeconomics of hosting the Games, particularly the impact on small
businesses during construction phases and during the actual Games period due
to security closures. In Vancouver’s case, building the RAV line down a major
commercial thoroughfare drove numerous small merchants out of business.
None of them were ever compensated for lost revenues. During the Games
period, huge areas of the city were blocked off to routine commercial traffic
making it difficult or impossible for normal customers, let alone tourists, to
access many businesses. While a case can be made that hotels and others did
well in these areas during the Games, outside of this core area this was not the
case. It is also important to consider the financial impact of resident ‘outflow’
in which locals leave town to avoid the congestion and security of the Games
and take their dollars with them. In Vancouver’s case, total tourist influx num-
bers were actually of the same or smaller size than that of those residents who
left.18 Finally, the impact of lost ‘opportunity’ costs cannot be overestimated
and have a profound, if somewhat intangible, effects on host cities and coun-
tries for years during and after the Games.

Conclusions

Vancouver, the most recent Olympic host city, shows clearly the future for
those cities that bid for and are awarded the Games by the IOC. First, as is
typical, positive economic impacts will not even begin to approach overall
costs. The latter are in the multiple of billions of dollars and are unlikely to
decline as each city attempts to be the ‘best Games ever’. Security costs, as
part of the overall outlay, are now routinely $1 billion or higher, and are also
unlikely to decline. Although this article does not touch on the impacts of
hosting the Games on the environment or civil liberties, these two areas are
also profoundly impacted for the worse.
After the Vancouver Games, both municipal and provincial politicians
declared the Games a success and made statements to the effect that the reces-
sion of 2008 would have been far worse had Vancouver not been the host.
Needless to say, such ‘spin’ is largely the best that can be done with the
numbers cited above.
At all stages of the Olympic process from bid to aftermath, organising
committees and governments tend to try to change the frame of the discus-
sion away from economics to less tangible aspects, such as patriotism. In
Vancouver’s case, patriotism was joined by an emphasis, especially in hind-
sight, on the ‘party’ aspect of the downtown celebrations. In this regard, it
appears Vancouver organisers had learned from their counterparts in Torino
that creating a party atmosphere would tend to alleviate other concerns.
 Christopher A. Shaw 259

The ‘what a great party’ frame is now how Vancouver’s Games are portrayed
and remembered. The IOC has been quick to notice this rebranding and it is
likely to become a prominent part of future Games as well. Indeed, it is pos-
sible to imagine that the Games will continue on this trajectory, which, mar-
ried with the highly visible corporate sponsorships, will make future Olympics
less and less about the actual sports, and more about marketing products and
creating a party atmosphere for those who will pay the final bills.

Acknowledgements

Thanks to Bob Mackin of 24 Hours for detailed information about various issues
as cited in the text. Bob Quellos of the No Games Chicago organisation pro-
vided information on the Chicago bid. Special thanks to my partner, Danika
Surm, for her encouragement and support.

Notes
1. For Bid Corp history and organisation, see Shaw, Five Ring Circus: Myths and Realities
of the Olympic Games.
2. Ibid.
3. Ibid.
4. Walkom, ‘The Olympic Myth of Calgary’.
5. The report can be found at: www.2010wintergamessecretariat.com/StaticContent/
Downloads/Econ_Impact_2010_Games_Update.pdf.
6. Lenskyj, The Best Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of Sydney 2000.
7. Ken Bayne (Vancouver’s General Manager of Business Planning and Services, City of
Vancouver), personal communication.
8. Ibid.
9. Shaw, Christopher A., Five Ring Circus: Myths and Realities of the Olympic Games.
10. The net cost to Vancouver of the 2010 Winter Olympics was $554.3 million ($729.2
million gross) according to the Vancouver Sun: see http://vancouver.ca/ctyclerk/
cclerk/20100420/documents/rr1.pdf.
11. Bob Mackin, personal communication.
12. The recent chronology of the Village financing is as follows: 18 February 2009, the
City of Vancouver bought out Fortress for $318 million; by 15 April 2009, Vancouver
had put $518 million into the project, comprising $196 million including a Bank of
Montreal line of credit and an additional $322 million from city funds, principally
the Property Endowment Fund; on 29 April 2009 the city agreed to $550 million in
credit from a Toronto Dominion Bank-led syndicate (BMO, CIBC, National Bank,
Scotiabank and RBC also involved); 18 January 2009, the city received provincial
approval on Bill 47 to borrow funds to refinance the Village.
13. Current problems with the Village, apart from the financial. First, a late start and
constant pressure to do more ‘green’ features and more luxury finishings led, inevi-
tably, to cost overruns and scheduling troubles. City bureaucrats failed to fulfil their
oversight obligations by choosing Millennium in the first place. Competing devel-
opers noted too many units were built too big and too fast. Finally, the Pipefitters
Union complained that pipes weren’t insulated and would be susceptible to freezing,
260 The Economics and Marketing of the Olympic Games

leading to remedial work at late stages of the project. Apparently, many of the con-
struction problems remain (Bob Mackin, personal communication).
14. City of Vancouver 2009 annual financial report: Capital fund $4.8 billion; Property
endowment fund $1.38 billion.
15. As of this writing, only 1 of 20 market price units had been sold.
16. Pricewaterhouse Coopers report, 2010.
17. Bob Mackin, personal communication. See also Shaw, Five Ring Circus.
18. Lower Mainland resident ‘outflow’ was estimated by the local media to be about 15
per cent during the Games period from just before the Olympics to the end of the
Paralympic Games.

References
Lenskyj, H. J. (2002) The Best Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of Sydney 2000 (Albany: State
University of New York Press).
Pricewaterhouse Coopers (2010) Report on Vancouver 2010, at: www.marketwire.com/
press-release/PricewaterhouseCoopers-Report-Shows-2010-Winter-Games-Create-Jobs-
Stimulate-Economy-1071825.htm.
Shaw, C. A. (2008) Five Ring Circus: Myths and Realities of the Olympic Games (Gabriola
Island: New Society Publishers, 2008).
Walkom, T. (1999) ‘The Olympic Myth of Calgary’, The Toronto Star, 8 February.
16
The Rings and the Box: Television
Spectacle and the Olympics
Garry Whannel

There can be little doubt that the Olympic Games could not have attained their
current form without television. The Olympic Games, as they now exist, are
a product of television’s power to produce and distribute live global spectacle.
Indeed the Games are perhaps better understood as a television event than a
sporting one. Of the Olympic sports only athletics, tennis, football, basket-
ball and boxing have any significantly large spectator following outside the
Olympic Games and for the sports of tennis, football, basketball and boxing,
the Olympics are only a minor part of their sporting year and competitive
formats. In my estimate, the other 22 sports combined account for less than
3 per cent of television sport on terrestrial television in the UK. The Olympics
aside, athletics cannot compete for popularity or financial strength with the
major commercialised sports such as football, basketball, golf, tennis, motor
racing and American Football. Most people who watch the Olympic Games do
not otherwise follow even the sports that are most prominently featured on
Olympic television, athletics, swimming and gymnastics.
Nor can the Olympic sports claim a broad base of participants. Although
a fair proportion of Olympic sports can claim a degree of participation, only
football, running, swimming and cycling would count as mass participation
activities, and then only if one includes swimming and running and cycling
for leisure rather than competition. For example, UK figures suggest that while
12 per cent of men and 15 per cent of women regularly swim, 12 per cent of
men and 6 per cent of women regularly cycle, and 10 per cent of men play
football, less than 2 per cent of the population play tennis and less than
1 per cent ride horses.1 So the Olympics do not appear to be popular because
of the regular following of its major sports either as spectator or as partici-
pant. Rather, it is because it is a spectacular television show, with the badge of
being the world’s best. Football’s World Cup has a far stronger claim to have a
non-television basis to its popularity, with millions around the world involved
as spectators and participants.

261
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
262 The Rings and the Box: Television Spectacle and the Olympics

The ‘digitally enhanced fireworks’ featured in the television coverage of the

Beijing 2008 Opening Ceremony caused a huge controversy, in which accu-
sations of faking were bandied about. Such accusations, though, only make
sense if one is conceptualising the Olympics as an event which is televised,
rather than as a television event. Clearly the Opening Ceremony is precisely a
constructed artifice in the tradition of showbusiness and how it is constructed
has always involved smoke and mirrors. I was in Beijing during the evening
of the Opening Ceremony although not inside the stadium. While there were
clearly real fireworks the full display could not be properly seen either from
inside the stadium or from outside it. Fireworks covered a large geographical
area. Only on television could the whole production, complete with digital
augmentation, be properly perceived.
So, I would argue, it is as a spectacular television event that the Olympic Games
must be understood. As such it has been shaped by the forces of commodifica-
tion, globalisation, digitalisation and is increasingly shaped by the convergence
of the once distinct technologies of television, computers and the internet. How
has this spectacle developed? All periodisations have a contingent tendency but
for my purposes here, I propose four: the pre-television era between 1896 and
1935; the emergence of television as a new technology between 1936 and 1967;
the technological perfecting and globalisation of television between 1968 and
1987; and the era of digital transformation from 1988 to the present.

1896–1935

The modern Olympic Games were established in the same period of the late
19th century in which a modern mass communication system begins to develop.
The combination of photography, wireless telegraphy, a reading public and
entrepreneurial investment gave birth to the modern popular press. The first
cinemas emerged in the closing years of the century, and until television, cinema
newsreels were the only way, other than presence at the event, that people could
observe sport performance. Coincidentally the last decade of the 19th century is
also a period in which the growth of branded goods and chain stores triggered a
substantial growth in advertising. By the end of the 20th century, of course, global
corporations would be providing a substantial revenue stream for the Olympic
Games in the form of sponsorship. During the early years of the 20th century,
cinema spread rapidly around the world, and the first radio broadcasts were
made. Photographs of the 1912 Olympic Games were traded commercially. In
1932, newsreel cameras were used to determine the winner of the 100 metres.

1936–1967: the emergence of television technology

Before the Second World War, only four countries (the USA, the UK, France and
Germany) had developed viable television technologies. For the Olympic Games,
 Garry Whannel 263

the television era began in Berlin in 1936. Pictures were not broadcast direct to
the public, but relayed to around 28 local halls attracting an audience of around
150,000. The image quality was described variously as ‘excellent’ to ‘unsatisfac-
tory’.2 Three months after the 1936 Games, the BBC introduced the world’s first
regular television service in the London area. But the first real broadcasting of
an Olympic Games did not occur until the London Olympics of 1948. Pictures
could only be received in the London area. There were just 35,000 households
licensed to receive television at the start of 1948, but, possibly fuelled by the
Olympic Games, this figure tripled during the year.3 Around 70 hours were
broadcast, with one day having seven-and-a-half hours coverage.4
Despite this, television technology spread much more slowly than did cin-
ema, and before 1960 fewer than 25 countries had launched regular television
services and so the patterns of international sport broadcasting had yet to
develop. The 1952 Olympic Games in Helsinki were not televised. In the build-
up to the Melbourne Games of 1956, the USA networks resisted paying rights
for Melbourne 1956, and negotiations with American and European broadcast-
ers were unsuccessful. As a result, only six pre-recorded, half-hour programs
were accessible on a few independent channels in the USA.5
By contrast, the 1960 Olympic Games in Rome were relayed to 12 countries
on the Eurovision link. The American network CBS paid around $380,000 for
the rights and daily recordings were flown across the Atlantic for retransmis-
sion. The audience potential of the Games was clear when CBS reported a
36 per cent audience share, heralding the start of competitive bidding that
would push rights payments rapidly up over the next few decades.6 New com-
munication satellites (such as Telstar and Syncom 3) enabled the first inter-
continental live broadcasts for 1964 and 1968, and the Olympics were seen
in colour for the first time. Television was coming of age, and it was about to
transform sport in general and the Olympic Games in particular.

1968–1987

The rise of television sport was most closely associated with the BBC in the UK
and ABC in the USA. ABC in particular developed a commitment to focusing
on the drama, and the stars – epitomised by their two best known slogans – ‘up
close and personal’ and ‘the thrill of victory, the agony of defeat’.7 ABC’s style
featured close-ups, graphics and microphones placed to pick up the sound of
the action. In 1968 ABC scheduled 48 hours of coverage, a threefold increase
on 1964.8
Communication satellites and the spread of television around the world were
making the Games a global television event. This in turn, gave it enormous
potential as a platform for symbolic political acts. The black power salutes at
Mexico 1968; the seizing of Israeli athletes as hostages by a militant Palestinian
group at Munich (1972) and the sequence of boycotts that marked the Games
264 The Rings and the Box: Television Spectacle and the Olympics

between 1976 and 1984 provide three very different instances of exploitation
of this opportunity.9
The establishment of the Olympic Games as a global television event made it
a site of symbolic importance in the Cold War. As soon as the 1980 Games were
awarded to Moscow, lobby groups in Western countries began urging boycotts.
However it was not until 1979, and the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, that
a pretext great enough to cause Government action arose. The US President
Jimmy Carter announced a boycott and went to great lengths to pressurise
other Western countries into supporting it. However neither this boycott nor
the less effective retaliatory one organised by the Eastern bloc in 1984 appeared
to diminish the popularity of the Games on television. Indeed the Olympic
Games were well established as a ratings winner, and provided a valuable basis
around which the networks could announce and promote their autumn sched-
ules. The pattern of USA rights payments pattern from 1960 to 1988 was one
of continuing and spectacular growth.
During this period, the Olympic Games became the stake in an intense battle
between the US networks. The potential for big audiences, even during the day
and late at night, and usually during the slack summer season, helped attract
additional advertising revenue. By the 1980s the escalation in rights payments
was in danger of outstripping the level of advertising revenue. In particular,
when ABC’s determination to retain their ‘Olympic Network’ tag led them to
bid $309 million for the 1988 Winter Olympics, it was widely felt in the televi-
sion industry and not least at ABC that the payment was too high and could
not be recouped in advertising revenue.10
However, the IOC had for some time been concerned at the dangers of
being over-dependent on USA television money and established, at the start
of the 1980s, a committee to explore new sources of funding. The 1984 Los
Angeles Games, forced by a public vote to rely only on private finance, had
had to pursue sponsorship more vigorously, developing the principle of lim-
ited product categories with a monopoly sponsor in each one.11 As this forced
rival companies (Coke and Pepsi, Kodak and Fuji, for example) into an auction

Table 16.1 US network payments for Olympic

television rights in US$m

Summer Winter Both

1960 0.39 0.05 0.44

1964 1.5 0.59 2.09
1968 4.5 2.5 7
1972 7.5 6.4 13.9
1976 25 10 35
1980 87 15.5 102.5
1984 225 91.5 316.5
1988 300 309 609
 Garry Whannel 265

it proved a very successful means of maximising sponsorship revenue.12 The

alliance of Adidas boss Horst Dassler and FIFA president João Havelange had
already reshaped the World Cup using similar principles.13 Dassler’s new spon-
sorship agency ISL was hired, controversially without public tender, to estab-
lish the TOP programme, which involved persuading the NOCs to relinquish
their own local rights in the key product areas, in order that the IOC could
market the Games to sponsors centrally. With Dassler as a major influence, the
IOC developed its global Olympic sponsorship system TOP, first used in 1988.
After the 1988 Olympic Games the IOC also assumed a much greater degree of
central control over the key negotiations over television revenue and sponsor-
ship.14 The introduction of limited product categories with sponsor exclusivity
meant that by 1992, there were just 12 TOP sponsors, but they brought in
between $10 million and £20 million each.
There is, in fact, a major paradox at the heart of the Olympic marketing.
Normally, advertisers and sponsors are primarily interested in gaining televi-
sion exposure. But the Olympic Games allow no arena advertising (apart from
the trademarks of equipment suppliers). The only other major event to bar
advertising are The Championships at Wimbledon in tennis. So sponsors
do not get television space, and are instead buying into association with the
world’s most recognisable symbol, the five rings, a symbol that connotes world
excellence. The only way they can gain television exposure is to buy advertis-
ing separately. The paradox is that it is the impression of being ‘above’ com-
merce produced by a ‘clean’ stadium that contributes significantly to the aura
of uniqueness of the Games and hence enhances their marketability.
The IOC was also to embark on an effort to ensure that countries other than
the USA also paid greater sums for the rights. The bidding wars had forced the
price for the 1988 Winter Olympic Games up to $309 million, precipitating a
series of changes that led to ABC Television being acquired by Capital Cities, and
the imposition of new budgetary restraints on the acquisition of sporting rights.
It was the end of an era for ABC, which had dubbed itself the Olympic Network,
but was now to lose its prime position to rival network NBC. The economic
recession of the early 1980s and the declining power of ABC led to IOC fears
(misplaced as it turned out) that the income from USA rights payments would
drop. At the 1986 IOC Session, prompted by ABC, the IOC introduced a new
scheduling; the Barcelona Olympics of 1992 would be followed by the Winter
Olympics in Lillehammer in 1994, putting Summer and Winter games in sepa-
rate years for the first time. This was designed to protect the American network
from the need to cover the cost of two Olympic events in the same year.

1988–present

By 1988 Eastern communism was falling apart, and the IOC was able to move
into a boycott-free and image-conscious era. In 1988 Seoul had superb facilities,
266 The Rings and the Box: Television Spectacle and the Olympics

but the IOC had to prevail on the Organising Committee to bus in large
numbers of schoolchildren to provide the full stadia that television favours.
The story illustrates how central the needs of television had become. Between
1984 and 2008 broadcasting revenues were more than $10 billion.15 But from
the end of the 1980s, deregulation, multi-channel television, the internet and
digitalisation began to pose new challenges to the cosy relationship between
the IOC and television.
US television was struggling to recoup the enormous rights payments. Even
after the Summer and Winter Games were separated into different years, it
was hard to sell enough advertising to meet the costs. In 1992, NBC tried pay-
per-view subscriptions for an enhanced advert-free package on cable, but the
scheme failed to appeal to viewers, who of course could still see the bulk of
the Games for free. CBS, allied with Ted Turner’s TNT, traded 50 hours of their
coverage to Turner, who put up $50 million towards the rights.16
Just as the IOC had, in the 1980s, assumed greater central control of the
negotiation of rights and sponsorship deals, during the 1990s it determined to
take greater control of the international feed, the television pictures provided
by the host broadcaster to the rest of the world. By 2001 it had established OBS,
Olympic Broadcasting Services, to organise the televising of the Games. OBS is
basically a committee that commissions established broadcasters and produc-
tion companies from around the world to provide aspects of the coverage. In
Beijing 2008, for example, a cooperative joint venture between OBS and the
Local Organizing Committee (BOCOG) created Beijing Olympic Broadcasting
(BOB), the on-site Host Broadcaster for the 2008 Games.17
The most significant development and one that has continued to trouble the
IOC to this day, has been the rapid growth of the internet. In 1996 in Atlanta
the first Olympic Games website received 189 million hits. Just two years later,
the Nagano website got 634 million hits, while in 2000 the Sydney website got
a staggering 11.3 billion hits.
For NBC and the IOC, the internet is a threat in that, without tight content
controls, it could cause a significant audience migration from television with-
out producing the revenue flows to compensate. One symptom of these was a
dramatic shift in the sale of television rights, allowing NBC to acquire the rights
to several Games in advance. In addition, television and sponsorship rights
became bundled together, with NBC’s parent company General Electric agree-
ing to become a TOP sponsor. For a total commitment of around $5.7 billion,
NBC eventually secured rights for 1996, 2000, 2008 and 2012. In one deal struck
in June 2003, NBC concluded a deal for the Winter Olympics of 2010 and the
Summer Games of 2012 worth in total over $2 billion. This included GE paying
a minimum of $160 million and a maximum of $200 million in sponsorship.
Given the many uncertainties about the future of television as a medium
of delivery as wi-fi and high-speed broadband hasten the convergence of
 Garry Whannel 267

television and the internet, it is not surprising that the major US networks were
keen to secure television rights for future Olympic Games; nor that the IOC was
keen to arrange such a deal. The Washington Post said the bid was a ‘risky but
potentially rewarding go-for-broke attempt by a network to hold on to mass
viewership events in an era when cable broadcasters are eroding network clout’
but also pointed out that NBC would utilise its own cable networks – MSBNC,
CNBC and Bravo – to broadcast Olympic events, reaching as wide an audience
as possible and maximising advertising dollars. After the IOC announced that
they were expecting a sponsorship dimension to the deal, it was the commit-
ment of General Electric that helped secure the deal for NBC.18
The deals that have been struck underline the enormous commercial value
of the Games and the power of the IOC – how many other organisations can
successfully sell, for around $1 billion, a product not due to be delivered for
nine years, when even the host city is unknown? Indeed, the closing of the
deals highlights the manner in which the Games have become a recognis-
able, routinised and ritualised form of spectacle, in which stars, narratives and
national identities are all delivered up for audience identification.19
Despite the caution over the speed of internet developments, gradual con-
trolled use of the internet and pay-for-view channels has allowed American
viewers a greater range and depth of coverage. Developments in the technology
of digital ‘geo-blocking’ have made it possible for digital rights managements
systems to prevent digital streams being accessed from other countries, or
duplicated on other websites. A joint internet monitoring project run by the
Chinese and the IOC discovered more than 4000 cases of illegal broadcasting
during the 2008 Games.20
Generally these broadcasts were rapidly shut down once detected. But peer-to
peer streaming using BitTorrent proved a bit more problematic. A major torrent
website, The Pirate Bay, had millions of downloads of the Opening Ceremony,
and although the IOC requested Swedish government assistance, Pirate Bay
remained defiant and the Swedes were unwilling to enforce IOC demands. The
IOC were more successful in preventing unauthorised recycling of Olympic
material on YouTube, but did also authorise YouTube to establish an Olympic
channel available in countries outside the major regional television contracts.21
NBC had reintroduced extra coverage on cable and satellite channels in
2000, expanded the number of outlets for 2004 to allow coverage of all 28
sports, and introduced basketball and soccer channels in 2008. For the Beijing
Olympic Games of 2008, for the first time NBC also utilised its own internet
site nbcolympics.com to stream events. Possibly as a result of this new more
comprehensive coverage, NBC attained their highest-ever Olympic Games rat-
ings and the largest advertising sales.22
In 2008, which Andy Miah23 has referred to as the first Web 2.0 Games,
internet use and video streaming rose dramatically. The NBC website recorded
268 The Rings and the Box: Television Spectacle and the Olympics

an estimated 1.3 billion page views, 53 million unique users, 75.5 million video
streams and 10 million hours of video consumption during the Games. The
European Broadcasting Union delivered 180 million broadband video streams.
In Latin America, Terra’s Olympic site reported 29 million video streams and
10 million video-on-demand downloads.24 According to the BBC Olympics
Director, Roger Mosey, there was more video streaming on the first day of the
2008 Beijing Olympics than in the whole of the 2004 Athens Olympics. In total
the BBC had 2.6 million video streams in Athens and 38 million video streams
in Beijing.25 In China, live streaming was offered online, with viewing audi-
ences of 53 million watching the Olympics on personal computers.26
This substantial and rapid rise in digital video streaming is a strong indica-
tor that the dominance of the Olympic Games by broadcast television could
come under increasing challenge. There are no technological reasons why
a centralised internet provider (the IOC itself, for example) could not provide
comprehensive coverage. Two factors militate against this. Firstly, television
advertising, organised on national lines, is still the most effective business
model when it comes to generating income. As long as this is the case, the
internet is likely to be used as an adjunct, allowing fuller coverage of those
events with less viewer appeal. Marshall et al.27 point out that the need to
ensure primacy of broadcast television meant that NBC’s website offered heav-
ily mediated highlights packages rather than live streaming of major events.
Secondly, it may be that audiences tend to prefer Olympics coverage focused
towards their own national belongingness, focusing on their own favoured
sports, competitors and medal prospects, framed within a narrative of national
specificity. In 2008 I watched Olympic television coverage in China, France
and the UK and the different foci were striking. In France, for example, hand-
ball (a sport barely visible on the BBC) became more and more prominent as
the French team progressed towards triumph.

Television, sponsorship and the globalised spectacle

Such is the power of live images of nations competing that huge television
audiences are mobilised, helping to underpin and justify the expensive bidding
races to win the right to stage the Games and ever more exorbitant costs to
host cities. It is the convergence of star, narrative, national identity, live-ness
and uncertainty that gives the Olympic Games this unique power as a cultural
event. Television has brought a huge income stream, initially dependent on the
USA, but since 1988, sponsorship and television income from the rest of the
world have become significant too.
Yet the very dominance of television has also transformed the Games in
other ways. It has brought commercialism, an end to amateurism, a heightened
intensity of focus, which has encouraged massive investment to prove and
 Garry Whannel 269

display national prowess, and has fostered the use of performance-enhancing

drugs. It has made the Games part of the global promotion of cities for indus-
try, trade and tourism. This heightened visibility has force the Games to be
staged inside rings of fortified security. Television has robbed the Games of
much of their festive potential.
The explosive growth of television sport from the mid-1960s has inevitably
had a transformative impact on the culture of Olympism, in three main forms.
First, competitive bidding for the television rights between the major networks
of the USA moved the IOC from genteel poverty to grand luxury. Second, the
heightened visibility of the Olympic Games, the fitness boom of the 1970s, and
the ruthless competitiveness of the sport and leisure goods industry combined
to make the Olympic Games an attractive proposition for sponsorship. Thirdly,
in becoming the global event par excellence, not to say sans pareil, the Olympic
Games offered one of the first and still one of the few opportunities for global
marketing and global visibility.
The growing proportion of TV revenue that comes from non-US sources, pre-
dicted by IOC member Richard Pound in 1986, has contributed to a reduction
in the power of the US networks. Indeed the really dramatic shift took place
between the fees for Moscow in 1980 and Atlanta in 1996. Over this period the
proportion of television rights fees provided by the rest of the world rose from
15 per cent to 49 per cent, and in the Summer Games since, the rest of the
world share has been between 47 and 49 per cent.
Half of the total revenue of the Olympic movement still comes from televi-
sion, but now 40 per cent comes from sponsorship, while a mere 8 per cent
comes from ticket sales, giving a clue to the importance of the spectator in
the scheme of things. It is worth noting that at the Olympic Games, like
other major events, a large proportion of tickets go to the Olympic ‘Family’ –
sponsors, corporate hospitality and the media. On some major sport events less
than 60 per cent of tickets have been available to the general public. In general

Table 16.2 Worldwide Olympic broadcast revenues in US$m

Summer Winter total

1980 101 21 122

1984 287 103 390
1988 403 325 728
1992 636 292 928
1994–06 935 353 1288
1998–2000 1332 513 1845
2002–04 1498 738 2236
2006–08 894 832 1726

Source: IOC website (www.ioc.com).

270 The Rings and the Box: Television Spectacle and the Olympics

terms, the IOC retains 8 per cent of this revenue, and the rest is shared out
between the national Olympic committees, the IFs and the OCOGs.
When the television rights negotiations for the 2012 Games are complete, it
is likely that the rest of the world may provide more than 50 per cent of the
TV revenue for the first time. The willingness of NBC to conclude deals for the
2012 Olympic Games two years in advance of the choice of site would seem to
suggest that the choice of site is no longer seen as a crucial element in deter-
mining the value of the rights.28
The UK will have completed switchover to digital broadcasting by 2012,
and the BBC’s coverage of 2012 will be the first to be entirely digital. The abil-
ity of viewers to watch events they have missed by streaming video via the
broadcaster’s website will become far more heavily used. However, the BBC
website will become central to this process. The digital television red but-
ton system is constrained by capacity limits and typically carries six streams.
In the 2012 Olympics there could be up to 21 events at any one time, and
all of these can be sustained in stream form on the website. While the BBC
will also use, and publicise, message boards and blogs, interactivity through
social networking will remain relatively marginal to its core coverage.29 High
Definition Television will also be established although the precise broadcast
pattern is yet to be established. Despite the current enthusiasm for 3D cinema
it is unlikely that 3D Olympic coverage will be utilised on any scale, although
there may conceivably be live relays to cinemas.

Tensions in the digitalised future

The dilemma for the IOC is that it wishes to utilise all the new media resources
of the internet and social networking sites to promote the Olympics brand
while remaining in control. But as Hutchins argues, there is a shift in the
media sport content economy from the comparative scarcity of television chan-
nels to the ‘digital plenitude’ of the new media environment in which online
media challenge both market driven logic and central control. As Hutchins
graphically puts it, ‘the carefully designed and fertile ‘media garden’ tended
by the Olympic Movement over the past 25 years was sporadically beset by
weeds – uninvited, unpredictable, socially-driven, participatory digital media’
(Hutchins et al. 2010).
Top sport stars now are the point of intersection between the global spec-
tacle of the Olympic Games and the celebrity-dominated media culture, and
star image has become a promotional tool. The issue of sport actuality as
intellectual property poses a contradiction – the IOC is selling the images of
performance – but the performers receive nothing for this – how long will they
be content with this situation? In an era in which top sport stars have agents
to oversee their interests, intellectual property and image rights could become
the site of a legal challenge to the current structure of Olympic finance.
 Garry Whannel 271

The great paradox at the heart of the Olympic Games is that this commodified
and hugely lucrative global spectacle is owned and run, not by a private cor-
poration with shareholders, but by what is in effect a combination of trust and
18th-century gentlemen’s club. So far this situation, combining the archaic and
the entrepreneurial, has survived and, arguably thrived despite, indeed perhaps
partly because of, its internal contradictions. Its future evolution will serve as
a fascinating barometer for the future of public spectacle.

Notes
1. ONS (Office of National Statistics) Sport and Leisure: Results from the sport and
leisure module of the 2002 General Household Survey.
2. Terramedia, The Olympic Media Dossier.
3. See The Valve Page at: www.thevalvepage.com/tvyears/1947/tvy1947text.htm
(accessed 14 April 2010).
4. Terramedia, The Olympic Media Dossier: the audiences were small, but the enormous
effort put into covering the Games gave great impetus to the technological develop-
ment of television.
5. http://olympic-museum.de/first/first.html.
6. Terramedia, The Olympic Media Dossier.
7. It has always intrigued me that the key influence behind the growth of ABC Sport,
Roone Arledge, was a literature graduate, taught by Lionel Trilling.
8. www.museum.tv/eotvsection.php?entrycode=olympicsand (accessed 30 November
2009).
9. See Tomlinson and Whannel, Five Ring Circus.
10. See Billings et al., ‘Atlanta Revisited: Prime-Time Promotion in the 1996 Summer
Olympics’.
11. See Ueberroth, Made in America.
12. See Reich, Making It Happen: Peter Ueberroth and the 1984 Olympics; Ueberroth, Made
in America.
13. See Wilson, The Sports Business; Aris, Sportsbiz: Inside the Sports Business; Whannel,
Fields in Vision: Television Sport and Cultural Transformation; Sugden and Tomlinson,
‘Power and Resistance in the Governance of World Football: Theorising FIFA’s
Transnational Impact’.
14. See Larson and Park, Global Television and the Politics of the Seoul Olympics.
15. See the IOC website. at: www.olympic.org/
16. www.museum.tv/eotvsection.php?entrycode=olympicsand (accessed 30 November
2009).
17. Olympic Broadcasting Services, at: www.obs.es (accessed 14 September 2009).
18. Washington Post, 7 June 2003.
19. See Tomlinson, ‘Olympic Spectacle: Opening Ceremonies and Some Paradoxes
of Globalisation’; Tomlinson, ‘Staging the Spectacle: Reflections on Olympic and
World Cup Ceremonies’; Hall and Hodges, ‘The Politics of Place and Identity in
the Sydney 2000 Olympics: Sharing the Spirit of Corporatism’; Wilson and Sinclair,
The Olympics: Media, Myth, Madness; Roche, Mega-events and Modernity: Olympics and
Expos in the Growth of Global Culture.
20. Marshall et al., ‘Mediating the Olympics’.
21. Ibid.
272 The Rings and the Box: Television Spectacle and the Olympics

22. See Sports Business News, 23 August 2008, at: http://sportsbiznews.blogspot.

com/2008/08/2008-beijing-summer-olympics-credit.html (accessed 23 September 2011).
23. Miah et al., ‘We Are the Media’.
24. Hutchins and Mikoszka, ‘The Web 2.0 Olympics: Athlete Blogging, Social Networking
and Policy Contradictions at the 2008 Beijing Games’.
25. Interview with Roger Mosey, BBC Olympics Director, Convergence: The International
Journal for Research on New Media Technologies, Autumn 2010.
26. Marshall et al., ‘Mediating the Olympics’.
27. Ibid.
28. For studies of the power of US TV, see Spence, Up Close and Personal; Wilson, The
Sports Business; McPhail and Jackson, The Olympic Movement and the Mass Media;
O’Neil, The Game Behind the Game: High Stakes, High Pressure in TV Sports; Real, Super
Media, and for studies of sport and the media see de Moragas et al., Television in the
Olympics; Rowe, ‘The Global Love-match: Sport and Television’, and Rowe, Sport,
Culture and the Media: The Unruly Trinity.
29. Interview with Roger Mosey, BBC Olympics Director, in Convergence: the International
Journal for Research on New Media Technologies, Autumn 2010.

References
Aris, S. (1990) Sportsbiz: Inside the Sports Business (London: Hutchinson).
Barney, R. K., S. R. Wenn and S. G. Martyn (2002) Selling the Games: The IOC and the Rise
of Olympic Commercialism (Salt Lake City: University of Utah Press).
Billings, A. C., S. T. Eastman and G. D. Newton (1998) ‘Atlanta Revisited: Prime-time
Promotion in the 1996 Summer Olympics’, Journal of Sport and Social Issues, 22.1,
65–78.
Hall, C. M. and J. Hodges (1997) ‘The Politics of Place and Identity in the Sydney 2000
Olympics: Sharing the Spirit of Corporatism’, in M. Roche (ed.), Sport, Popular Culture
and Identity (Oxford: Meyer and Meyer).
Hutchins, B. and J. Mikosza (2010) ‘The Web 2.0 Olympics: Athlete Blogging, Social
Networking and Policy Contradictions at the 2008 Beijing Games’, Convergence: The
International Journal of Research into new Media Technologies, Special Issue on Sport in
New Media Cultures, 16.3, 279–297.
Larson, J and H.-S. Park (1993) Global Television and the Politics of the Seoul Olympics
(Boulder: Westview).
Marshall, P. D., B. Walker and N. Russo (2010) ‘Mediating the Olympics’, Convergence:
The International Journal of Research into new Media Technologies, Special Issue on Sport
in New Media Cultures, 16.3, 263–278.
McPhail, T. and R. Jackson (eds) (1989) The Olympic Movement and the Mass Media
(Calgary: Hurford Enterprises).
Miah, A., B. Garcia and T. Zhihui (2008) ‘“We are the Media”: Non-Accredited Media and
Citizen Journalists at the Olympic Games’, in M. E. Price and D. Dayan (eds), Owning
the Olympics: Narratives of the New China (Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press).
de Moragas, M. de, N. K. Rivenburgh and J. F. Larson (eds) (1996) Television in the Olympics
(London: John Libbey).
O’Neil, T. (1989) The Game Behind the Game: High Stakes, High Pressure in TV Sports
(New York: Harper and Row).
ONS (Office of National Statistics) (2002) Sport and Leisure: Results from the sport and
leisure module of the 2002 General Household Survey.
 Garry Whannel 273

Real, M. (1989) Super Media (London: Sage).

Reich, K. (1986) Making It Happen: Peter Ueberroth and the 1984 Olympics (Santa Barbara:
Capra).
Roche, M. (2000) Mega-events and Modernity: Olympics and Expos in the Growth of Global
Culture (London: Routledge).
Rowe, D. (1996) ‘The Global Love-match: Sport and Television’, Media, Culture and
Society, 18.4, 565–582.
Rowe, D. (1999) Sport, Culture and the Media: The Unruly Trinity (Milton Keynes: Open
University Press).
Spence, J. (1988) Up Close and Personal (New York: Atheneum).
Sugden, J. and A. Tomlinson (1998) ‘Power and Resistance in the Governance of World
Football: Theorising FIFA’s Transnational Impact’, Journal of Sport and Social Issues, 22.3,
299–316.
Terramedia (n.d.) The Olympic Media dossier, at: www.terramedia.co.uk/media/change/
olympic_games_1956.htm.
Tomlinson, A. (1996) ‘Olympic Spectacle: Opening Ceremonies and Some Paradoxes of
Globalisation’, Media Culture and Society, 18.4, 583–602.
Tomlinson, A. (1999) ‘Staging the Spectacle: Reflections on Olympic and World Cup
Ceremonies’, Soundings, 13, 161–171.
Tomlinson, A. and G. Whannel (eds) (1984) Five Ring Circus (London: Pluto).
Ueberroth, P. (1985) Made In America (New York: William Morrow).
Whannel, G. (1992) Fields in Vision: Television Sport and Cultural Transformation (London:
Routledge).
Whannel, G. (2002) Media Sport Stars, Masculinities and Moralities (London: Routledge).
Wilson, H. and J. Sinclair (2000) The Olympics: Media, Myth, Madness, special issue of
Media International Australia, 97 (Nathan: Australian Key Centre for Cultural and Media
Policy, Griffith University).
Wilson, N. (1988) The Sports Business (London: Piatkus).
17
The Olympic Movement’s New Media
Revolution: Monetisation, Open
Media and Intellectual Property
Andy Miah and Jennifer Jones

In October 2009, the International Olympic Committee’s (IOC) 13th

Olympic Congress devoted one of its core discussion themes to the ‘digital
revolution’ – asking how digital technologies could be harnessed more effec-
tively to promote the values of Olympism. Until then, it had not been a
major innovator in the area of digital technology or, at least, it had not taken
full advantage of the web’s possibilities. In contrast, from one Games to the
next, the IOC’s core media partners have steadily developed media technol-
ogy and delivery from high definition broadcasting, television on demand to
the online streaming of Olympic sports.1 The explanation for this difference
is that the Olympic movement has rarely taken ownership of such innova-
tion, benefiting by association with world-leading media partners rather than
developing its own intellectual property around being a media technology
innovator.
The 2009 Congress signalled the IOC’s intention to occupy a more influen-
tial role in the new media world. In this case, the focus was on embracing the
internet and mobile-based environments that have emerged over the last five
years: what may be termed the Web 2.0 era. This concept emerged through an
O’Reilly media technology conference and described the new architecture of
web platforms, which placed the acts of rich user experience, online participa-
tion, collaboration and data sharing at the centre of its framework.2
The development of such web technologies coincided with the emerging dis-
cussions around the notion of changing audiences.3 The birth of Web 2.0 was
characterised by the convergence of broadcast media and innovative internet
technologies.4 However, perhaps more significantly, it described a shift towards
‘social media’, which was defined by user-generated media content, and a frag-
mentation of audiences across multimedia platforms.5 Through their online
interactions with the competitions and wider celebrations, sports audiences
were becoming participants rather than just spectators. Each of these dimen-
sions raises questions about what may be defined as the Olympic media in the

274
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 Andy Miah and Jennifer Jones 275

future and, indeed, what role professional journalists will have compared with
the increasing numbers of active and empowered audience members,6 known
to some as online,7 independent or citizen journalists.8 Such individuals are
now playing a central role in constituting the landscape of media content that
surrounds an Olympic Games, whether it is through their creation of original
content – photographs, films, blog entries – or their syndication of others’
content. A simple example of this is the popular social media platform Twitter,
which is powered by the way in which individuals re-send content produced
by others to their own network of ‘followers’.
Martin Sorrell’s keynote presentation during the IOC Congress highlights
some of these preliminary discussions for its future work in this area. The
importance of Sorrell’s contribution can be read on numerous levels, though its
core message was that opening up the IOC’s digital assets to new media environ-
ments would permit a more effective control of their brand and, notably, it
would optimise their financial stability.9
In this context, the present chapter addresses aspects of the Olympic move-
ment’s new media revolution. It begins with an overview of how the media
world of the Olympic Games is situated and already undergoing change. It
assesses the online activity and media infrastructures generated by recent
Games, which demonstrate the shifting culture of Olympic media reporting.
Moreover, in characterising the full landscape of the Olympic media, we con-
sider whether new, alternative, non-professional and online forms of media
environment can continue to develop and exist outside of the IOC’s purview,
or whether they will eventually become part of the IOC’s monetisation pack-
age negotiated in advance of each Games. Finally, we argue on behalf of a new
media infrastructure for the Olympic Games, which draws on the potential of
citizen media reporting, as a direct challenge or complement to existing mass
media. While much of what we say may have a bearing on how the Paralympic
Games operates – and mega-events more generally – the focus here is on the
Olympic Games, as this event provides the basis for our empirical work that
has informed this theoretical analysis.

The Olympic media: finance, operation and change

It is widely understood that the Olympic infrastructure relies on the financial

revenue it generates through the negotiation of broadcast rights and sponsorship
from domestic sources and the Olympic Program (TOP).10 In short, without fund-
ing from McDonald’s, Coca-Cola and so on, the Olympic movement would not
be able to function, and its financial crisis in the 1980s reminds us of this fragil-
ity. Indeed, if one examines many cultural activities, the shift towards privately
endowed programs, rather than publicly funded ones, explains how the Olympic
Games is one of many such cultural endeavours that rely on such relationships.
276 The Olympic Movement’s New Media Revolution

In each of the funding dimensions, there is a complex set of economic

arrangements, which make it difficult to accurately articulate how much finan-
cial investment the Games requires. For example, in exchange for a fee paid to
the IOC, television broadcasters are given exclusive rights within their territory
to broadcast Olympic sports. However, while this figure is significant, it does
not include the broadcaster’s own operational costs incurred by staffing and
managing their Olympic program. Additionally, individual broadcasters may
also incur costs on a range of sub-contracts to develop further creative content,
including graphics, film, music or any other multimedia format. Consider,
for instance that the BBC planned an expenditure of £13.7 million for its full
television, radio and online coverage of the Beijing Olympics, but that this
figure excluded an additional £2.5 million for ‘talent, staff and online coverage
approved separately’.11 The National Audit Office (NAO) reports further indicate
that the Beijing Games were the biggest outside broadcast the BBC had ever
mounted,12 capturing 80 per cent of the UK population who watched for at least
three minutes. Thus, the amount of money invested into media production
often far exceeds the rights paid by the broadcasters. Moreover, the symbolic
status of the Olympic Games as the biggest show on earth helps explain why it
is so appealing to broadcasters, in part, because it is seen as such a great opportu-
nity for companies hoping to advertise their products through the association.
Equally, focusing solely on what official broadcasters do around an Olympic
Games does not provide the entire picture of the media work that happens.
For example, while the Organizing Committee will create venues and a Media
Village for the official media, the notion of what constitutes a media venue
extends well beyond these resources. Indeed, defining what constitutes a media
organisation has become increasingly difficult if it is based on the top-down
characteristics associated with traditional media institutions.13
The assumption that all media professionals are exclusively interested in
reporting just the sport competitions and the accompanying ceremonies has
long passed, as broadcasters create multi-layered Olympic programs that range
from documentaries about athletes, political programs about local issues aris-
ing from the Games development and broadcasting aspects of the Olympic
cultural program. Thus, today, broadcasters invest much more into an Olympic
Games than just their sports departments. For example, at the Beijing 2008
Olympic Games, the BBC sent its lead news anchor Huw Edwards to undertake
the commentary of the Opening Ceremony. This was the first time that the
BBC had not used a conventional sports broadcaster for such a role.
Additionally, the Olympic media population is now more diverse, with differ-
ent needs. At the 2010 Vancouver Winter Olympic Games, there were at least
six types of media venue in operation during the Games period. Alongside the
Main Press Centre (MPC) and the International Broadcast Centre (IBC) – both
IOC and OCOG venues – and the city-led British Columbia International
 Andy Miah and Jennifer Jones 277

Media Centre, there were three other independent media centres that were
established to provide a space for reporting on stories from within Vancouver
and the greater British Columbia area. The space each organisation occupied
had varying degrees of media production facilities, ranging from physical
spaces for debates to existing purely within the online environment, with no
physical representation of their institution.
Nevertheless, physical spaces, such as buildings to host production equip-
ment, press conferences, staff or outdoor broadcast equipment stored in large
vehicles, are still core forms of media capital within an Olympic city, though
understanding the importance of this capital also involves coming to terms
with the different roles played by each. In addition to the IOC/OCOG venues,
various media environments are organised by the Olympic sponsors for their
own purposes, through which they can develop their own broadcast content.
For example, the Visa Olympians Reunion Centre at the Athens 2004 Summer
Games provided media access to athletes and other VIPs by hosting interviews
and press conferences during the Games time. Such an entity is made possible
via a range of revenue streams, though only the IBC and MPC are governed
by the IOC/OCOG accreditation systems. These latter centres focus on sports
coverage and accredited media have exclusive rights to cover the sports.
However, in the same way that not all Olympic athletes stay in the Olympic
village, not all accredited media base themselves within the official broad-
casting areas. It is also common for journalists to operate out of their own
dedicated studios, on a scale that may rival the official facilities. For example,
NBC alone, which pays 53 per cent of all broadcast revenue for each Olympics,
took over 2000 employees to the Beijing 2008 Olympic Summer Games and
had their own media centre overlooking the ‘Bird’s Nest’ Olympic Stadium.
Similarly, the Canadian broadcaster CTV constructed a three-studio set over-
looking downtown Vancouver, one part of which had a street-facing backdrop,
actively encouraging the local audience to gather around their facilities to be
captured on screen. In this case, the physical media infrastructure becomes
part of the Olympic festival experience in its own right, creating new forms of
Olympic venue within the Olympic city. Alternatively, Canada’s CBC, which,
for the first time in Olympic history, was not the Olympic broadcaster during
the 2010 Games – occupied a central location in Vancouver during Games
time – directly opposite the Aboriginal Pavilion (a Cultural Olympiad venue).
During the Games, CBC was criticised for ambush marketing, when it started
distributing Canadian flags to hockey fans on the way to their venue; their
logo was on the reverse side of the flag. In this regard, even major broadcast-
ing organisations can find themselves outside the Olympic inner circle. In
sum, over the past ten years, the range of provisions for media at an Olympic
Games has expanded, along with the numbers of journalists who occupy
them. According to the British Olympic Academy’s Modern Olympic guide, the
278 The Olympic Movement’s New Media Revolution

Athens 2004 Summer Games had well over 20,000 media staff from accredited
broadcast sources arriving during the course of Games time; this equalled the
number of athletes, stakeholders and audience of the first Games 100 years
previously.14 This change coincides with more sophisticated practices of place
marketing, which cities have cultivated in order to maximise their visibility to
Olympic tourists. Notably, since the Sydney 2000 Games, the non-accredited
media centre (NAMC) has emerged as a sophisticated media venue within the
Olympic city, usually delivered by the host city. Such media centres provide
facilities and access to visiting international journalists/bloggers and national
journalists without involvement of the IOC media accreditation process.15
For example, the aforementioned host-city-controlled British Columbia
International Media Centre at the Vancouver 2010 Games fits into this category
and offered journalists access to story ideas and press releases with a distinct
cultural and tourist-orientated perspective. Yet there are increasing numbers
of overlaps between the official Olympic program and the non-accredited
media centre program. For example, the day after the Opening Ceremony of
the Sydney 2000 Olympic Games, the star of the ceremony, Australian singer
Nikki Webster, gave a press conference at the NAMC. Alternatively, on the days
leading up to the Vancouver 2010 Games, torch-bearers would also fill their
visit to the city with other political engagements that involved the NAMC. For
instance, California Governor Arnold Schwarzenegger ran with the Olympic
torch and then went to the NAMC to give a press conference.
Historically, the journalists at the NAMC have been professional journalists
who are not part of the rights-paying community. Yet the Vancouver 2010
Olympic Winter Games was the first Olympiad to have a substantial and
independent social media or online media representation, with a number of
alternative media centres and platforms acknowledged and formalised prior
to the event. Indeed, Olympic Review cited Vancouver 2010 as ‘The First Social
Media Olympics’.16 Yet, while the IOC’s articulation of this status focused on the
user-generated content from IOC-controlled Facebook, Flickr and Twitter sites,
a lot more was happening on the ground in Vancouver that describes a differ-
ent population of social media contributors. The various new media centres
in the city that were mentioned earlier included W2 Media and Culture House,
a community media centre situated in the Downtown Eastside of Vancouver,
one of Canada’s poorest postcodes; True North Media House (TNMH), a fully
online media centre, allowing participants to print their own media pass and
to publish and distribute information using their own websites and social net-
works; and the Vancouver Media Co-operative, a mostly anti-Olympic campaign
which distributed information about protests across the city. Much like the non-
accredited media centres, the citizen reporters who registered with these media
spaces emerged with the intention of covering alternative messages, which were
not just about the Olympic sport, but the broader festival at large. Moreover,
the 2010 Games provided an increased focus on digital content generated and
 Andy Miah and Jennifer Jones 279

distributed by the interface of informal networks of creative workers and online

activists from within the host city, some without the aforementioned physical
base and communications conducted via free web platforms.
The Olympic online media – bloggers, for example – and independent social
media centres (such as W2 and TNMH) are fast becoming an integral part of
the Olympic media landscape. Yet, their messages may not always correspond
with those of officialdom, thus presenting a challenge to what may be seen as
the Olympic media. Thus, one of the central questions about their work that
concerns us here is whether the output of such alternative media is likely to
be integrated within the official program. However, perhaps a more radical
consideration is whether their existence will jeopardise the financial base of the
Olympic movement and its relationship with the media, its core financial stake-
holder. After all, if an Olympic fan with a high-specification camera can shoot
the same quality of images as a professional photographer in the press section
of an opening ceremony, the currency of the latter’s work – and thus the incen-
tive to pay for the privileged access – is diminished. In turn, without the right to
maintain exclusivity over such reporting opportunities, media organisations will
not be incentivised to pay large amounts of money to have such access.
The non-accredited and independent media centres of the Olympic Games
arise at a time when the capacity of user-created digital broadcasting and
reporting has become a mainstream, mass participation culture.17 Already, Web
2.0 start-up organisations have become dominant forces in media content
distribution, with such web platforms as Facebook, Twitter and Flickr indicat-
ing just a few of the major players who’ve managed to sustain viable business
models on the back of user-created content.18 The low cost of entry to the self-
publishing realm of blogging, image and video hosting and short and mobile
message sharing has blurred the boundaries between the media producers and
the media consumers.19 As access to content creation, content distribution and
content consumption becomes predominantly free to those who have access
to the internet, the landscape of media production shifts towards one in which
media audiences become part of the entire process, giving rise to a potentially
new power relationship between broadcasters, journalists and the audience.20
Although questions remain about whether the new communities of reporters
are beginning to occupy the privileged position of traditional media,21 our
focus returns to scrutinising the IOC’s enthusiasm to harness new media com-
munications to promote the ideals of Olympism and, in particular, find a way
of monetising the Olympic digital assets.

Monetising digital assets

The concept of monetisation has been a central part of the web since its
inception. When the first dot-com bubble burst in 2001, questions arose about
the long-term sustainability of e-commerce. Such mergers as AOL with Time
280 The Olympic Movement’s New Media Revolution

Warner – and their subsequent separation – reinforced the uncertainty of this

period. In recent years, monetisation has focused on how it may be possible to
translate user-generated content into market knowledge, which could enhance
the unit value of products and services. Before explaining the implications of
monetisation for the Olympic movement, it is first useful to explain the history
of online monetisation. The financial model of successful web ventures is often
considered mysterious, though in most cases it relies on two core principles.
The first has to do with the generation of marketing data, which may then be
sold to third parties to assist with the advertisement of products or services,
either within or outside of cyberspace. There are numerous examples of how
this works, from Google’s Gmail, which develops targeted adverts based on the
history of a user’s Gmail content, to the popular presentation sharing platform
Slideshare, which generates advertising based on the content of presentations
that users publish on their site. The second is a more recent principle and relies
on creating predominantly free services which engage a large consumer base,
complemented by a comparatively small paid subscription for users who want
to pay for additional functionality. Wired magazine Editor Chris Anderson
describes this as the ‘freemium’ model, where the funds are generated from
specialised and often niche content, which users have been known to pay for,
and in turn, develops additional premium services which provide support for
the majority of the free web media.22 A good example of this is Google, which
utilises data gathered from its search facility to promote tools such as Analytics
(a free website statistics program) and sell Ad-words (a ‘paid-for’ advertising
system) to individuals, groups and organisations that are interested in track-
ing their profile online using Google Analytics, with a view to improving their
impact through Google’s Ad-word program, which allows for businesses to pay
a fee to manipulate their rankings within Google’s search database.
There are innumerable other start-ups which have adopted a similar model,
from Flickr and YouTube to Facebook and Twitter. Some – like Google Search –
provide opportunities for businesses to advertise to their user base using
demographically targeted advertising. To give some sense of the magnitude
of this foundation, Facebook – which is the largest example of this kind – has
over 700 million active users (September 2011), each of whom is reached by
target marketing.
Alternatively, the real-time micro-blogging website Twitter has made its profits
through promoted tweets and deals with Google and Microsoft – $20-25 million
from each in return for access to Twitter’s searchable and real-time trends and news
discussion topics. In this case, the monetisation of Twitter mirrors the Google/
Microsoft model, where relevant advertising is shown during the search results.
Their model functions on a simple logic where, if the product or service is
powerfully innovative, then its adoption by a mass audience will give rise to
communities of premium users, which can then permit the software to be
 Andy Miah and Jennifer Jones 281

profit-making. Moreover, the open source varieties of such software furnish

the developers with a massive community of other developers who will work
for free to improve the application.23 Notably, this system is not so different
from the way in which the Olympic Games relies on volunteers who make the
delivery of the Games possible. Were it not for such committed individuals
who value the Games, the event would not be sustainable.24

Monetisation and the Olympic web

When thinking about digital monetisation in an Olympic context, the pri-

mary observation is to note that the IOC’s assets stretch beyond the short
time frame of each Games or, indeed, beyond merely optimising the audience
engagement with the sports competitions. Rather, discussions about Olympic
monetisation should operate on two levels – Olympic Games hosts and the
Olympic Movement in general. For the former, it is helpful to begin by rec-
ognising that the most effective Games legacies will occur by incentivising
host communities – and global audiences – early in the period leading up to a
Games. This period is often when public support for the Games is at its greatest
and when the local community is both incentivised and excited by the prospect
of the Olympic festival. In turn, this seven-year period opens up the Olympic
brand beyond a short-term mega-event lasting several weeks to an ongoing
process of construction, documentation, motivation and delivery, which allows
for the telling of stories outwith the frame of sporting competition.
Thus, the monetisation of the Olympic movement’s digital assets at large
may draw first on the pre-Games legacy period, during which time millions
of ‘clicks’ will occur in search of Olympic content. In turn, the number of
clicks generated could become an integral part of the IOC’s rights package.
However, in order for this to happen, it may first be necessary for the IOC to
gain sponsorship from a large online media provider, such as Google (which
Sorrell suggested during his recommendations), for it to capitalise fully on this
potential. The IOC would need to adapt the freemium concept of Google
Ad-Words on a much grander and exclusive scale in order to compete with the
existing broadcast models associated with previous games.
These dimensions of the monetisation problem indicate the various ways in
which the IOC may be more strategic in its utilisation of Web 2.0. Moreover,
before concluding that this model suggests a complete overhaul of the Olympic
media model, it is necessary to recognise that traditional rights holders are
already adopting such models in their own strategies.
However, the trend towards monetisation also raises a number of difficult
ideological questions about the Olympic movement, which we wish to address
next. Thus, it is also interesting to consider the consequences of open source
media communities in a climate where monetisation leads to the ongoing
282 The Olympic Movement’s New Media Revolution

retention of power and control, rather than its distribution. There are particular
issues that are at stake when this subject is considered in the context of the
Olympic movement’s values, as opposed to any other sports event or organisa-
tion. This has to do with how the Olympic movement expresses its social and
humanitarian goals through the Olympic Charter. On one view, the monetisa-
tion of digital media may be antithetical to the Olympic movement’s consti-
tution and the ethos of digital culture. For example, what would it mean to
directly monetise Twitter feeds that are distributing content about the Olympic
Games, especially when there are almost infinite ways in which to receive the
content for free elsewhere online? Would such practice even compromise the
ethics of Twitter, as described in its rules of best practice? To respond, it will
be useful to look more closely at the social media platform of Twitter.

The Twitter Olympics: opportunity and compromise

One of the challenges with debates about digital media is how frequently the
landscape of digital media changes, which can frustrate any attempt to make
claims about what may have lasting implications for online practice. However,
as with the development from Web 1.0 to Web 2.0, there are structural shifts
in the types of environment that last longer than others and which transform
digital environments substantially. Good examples of this include email, which
remains one of the most popular communicative devices online. Alternatively,
shifts in programming language, from HTML to XML, is another good example
of changes that have a lasting impact on the experiences of internet users and
on the architecture of the web. Twitter is another example, in part because it
has revolutionary potential – perhaps as the platform that will bring an end
to the need for email. As was noted earlier, Twitter is a micro-blogging, short-
message service, which allows users to post messages of up to 140 characters.
Its use has grown quickly over the past five years and it is now an integral part
of most major marketing campaigns. Recently, the Library of Congress in the
USA announced it would be archiving all tweets, thus reinforcing its role as an
archival tool and historical record of what takes place online.
Twitter is a freely available platform, allowing users to post content to others
by utilising a system that involves ‘following’ another’s content, rather like
a news subscription system. For example, if I am a Twitter user interested in
the Olympics, I can search for other users that ‘tweet’ about the Olympics
and follow them so that information I care about is brought to my atten-
tion. To this end, another of the remarkable shifts brought about by such
platforms as Twitter is from a situation where web surfers would go looking
for information, to one where information is brought to them automatically.
When examining how online development aligns with periods of Olympic
activity, one may conclude that the Vancouver 2010 Olympic Games were the
 Andy Miah and Jennifer Jones 283

first Twitter Olympics, as Twitter was used so extensively by a range of people

and institutions.
During the Games, official Twitter streams were being advertised through
Twitter’s own basic mechanism. For example, a Twitter community called
‘Olympians on Twitter ‘, which was linked to NBC’s Twitter ‘list’ would appear
on a user’s Twitter homepage around Games time. As one of the major media
partners for the Olympic Movement, NBC’s use of Twitter demonstrates the
convergence of the traditional (and accredited) media and the notion of
community-generated social media, often described by traditional media as ‘user
generated content’.
Since the emergence of Twitter in 2006, there have been various examples
of such institutional tweeting, but returning to our central point, one of the
key questions that faces the Olympic movement is whether such institutional
tweeting ought to be the core route towards embracing the digital revolution,
or whether it contributes to the loss of the meaning of the word ‘social’ in
social media. After all, the core social capital of platforms like Twitter resides in
the direct person-to-person contact, without public relations officers or website
managers intervening. Arguably, the institutional Twitter account is an affront
to this ethos. Indeed, there are a number of examples of institutional tweet-
ing which have offended the Twitter community and, ultimately, diminished
the core value of the tweeting organisation. For instance, a widely recognised
example within social media communities occurred in June 2009 when one
of the UK’s leading furniture retailers Habitat (@HabitatUK on Twitter) used
Twitter’s most popular discussion ‘trending’ topics to promote a competition
for store gift cards. Unfortunately, they were quickly brought to the attention of
the Twitter community when some users realised that Habitat UK were hijack-
ing hashtags – short-life keyword terms associated with events, used to add
tweets to a category – related to the Iran elections and subsequent protests. The
Twitter community were not only angered by Habitat’s lack of Twitter etiquette,
but also annoyed by the business’s refusal to admit they had done wrong in
the first place. The offending tweets were deleted and Habitat returned to a
corporate PR approach, only tweeting broadcast messages and advertisements,
all the while remaining disengaged from the rest of the community. Since
then, there has been a surge in the development of public social media policy
documents, offering employees, stakeholders and associates advice on using
platforms such as Twitter to promote brand awareness – as well as bowing to
the pressure for transparency in the conduct of new media procedures. In this
context, it is essential that organisations understand the business ethics of social
media compared to more traditional media forms. The former tend to involve
communication across communities, whereas the latter involve organisations
speaking through the media, which will then interpret the news for the com-
munity. These are considerably different practices and mis-reading them can
284 The Olympic Movement’s New Media Revolution

be catastrophic for an organisation, as the Habitat UK example demonstrated.

Corporate tweeting or blogging is considered offensive to the Twitter commu-
nity because it replaces the individual, direct communicator with an inhuman
public relations department or agency. Furthermore, the ease in which informa-
tion (true or otherwise) can be spread through Twitter users’ personal networks,
through ‘retweeting’ – the act of forwarding links and statements generated
by others, allows for momentum against injustices to gather with speed.25 For
example, in 2010 an employee of Vodaphone used the company’s corporate
account to tweet a homophobic remark. Alternatively, an independent artist,
also in 2010, accused the stationery company Paperchase of plagiarism.
These examples quickly attract a large cohort of Twitter users who become
part of a campaign, by screen-grabbing the offensive material before content is
deleted and emphasising that the damage has already been done.

Conclusion: the risk of open media

It would be a mistake to characterise media change as an inherently risky enter-

prise, not least because it has been taking place on a continual basis for the past
100 years.26 One might even say that change is a defining condition of media
culture – or even that structural change rarely occurs, since very often tradi-
tional mass media organisations are quickly able to appropriate new environ-
ments to maintain their dominant position.27 However, the IOC is undergoing
transformations to its management of media content, which may change the
way that media organisations operate at an Olympic Games. To this end, it is
conceivable that further transformation may jeopardise the present privileged
position of the media and the value the Olympic movement accrues from such
relationships. After all, there are no precedents from which the IOC may learn
to feel assured of continuing their secure position, since there has been no other
medium like the internet. Consider one simple principle that distinguishes it
from other modes of communication: user-generated content. Never before has
an individual had such a capacity to destabilise the information hierarchy than
is afforded by the Internet – where a dynamic personal website can be more
powerful than a static, institutional domain in terms of search recall in an
engine like Google. This challenge to institutions is tangible and visible, but
it exists regardless of whether an institution opens its media or not. Indeed, it
should remind organisations that their audiences are now powerful figures in
promoting their brand. In fact, resistance to change is more likely to result
in the loss of credibility, as other individuals and organisations compete within
the online space for alternative solutions to a brand that has been made more
vulnerable for failing to change. This is particularly important in the context
of a short-life brand like an Olympic Games, which must endeavour to quickly
dominate search-and-find results in a very short time.
 Andy Miah and Jennifer Jones 285

However, the more persuasive argument for opening up to an uncontrolled

media platform involves taking into account how internet users migrate from
one platform to another. Thus, if an institution or organisation is not present in
a major social media environment like Facebook, it will reduce its contact time
with its internet audience just because that is where the audience is located.
This is made apparent when examining the number of user-generated groups
about the Olympics that can be found in such environments. The IOC and the
OCOGs of Vancouver 2010, London 2012, Sochi 2014 and Rio 2016 have each
taken to using Facebook as an official source of information beyond Games
time, based on the successful uptake of the Facebook ‘pages’ interface during
the Vancouver Games. Indeed, in 2009, the IOC appointed a Director of Social
Media, working directly with its Communications team. Up until the point
of the Olympic Congress discussion in 2009, there was nothing of this kind
available within Facebook, though there were many pages that appeared to be
endorsed by the Olympic movement, including clear breaches of intellectual
property rights. Thus, the IOC’s transformation is a clear sign of its beginning to
adapt to the demands of media change. However, it remains to be seen whether
it is capable of monetising intellectual property through these channels. Again,
we are seeing the organisation being placed in a position where it must share
content as openly and freely as the existing user-generated groups.
This is why it is risky for an organisation to not adapt to the changing dig-
ital sphere and develop an approach that permits the early adoption of new
media environments. This is not to underestimate the dramatic implications
of such a shift for institutions like the IOC. Indeed, for any large, transnational
organisation, developing an adoption strategy that does not jeopardise the
effectiveness of existing contractual arrangements is risky. However, there are
yet further reasons why this is important to pursue. One may argue that, as
web-based revenue increases, the Olympic proposition may become less attrac-
tive if it fails to come packaged with new media rights benefits. To this end,
it may be harder for the IOC to retain global sponsors if it fails to innovate in
this area. Arguably, the IOC’s realisation of this was evident when deciding to
encourage spectators to upload photos of sports competitions to the popular
photo-sharing platform Flickr during the Vancouver 2010 Games. This was the
first indication that change is afoot.
In the short term, the monetisation of Olympic assets is likely to have value
particularly for the non-sporting dimensions of the Games, which currently do
not fall within the obligations of media contractors. It is for this reason that the
prospect of media change becomes even more complex and interesting, since it
indicates a shift from branding just sports to branding cultural and social activ-
ity. In such a future, the Olympic Games may no longer be characterised as a
media event, but as a media festival, defined by the sharing of creative media
content by engaged citizens with diverse political viewpoints.
286 The Olympic Movement’s New Media Revolution

Notes
1. International Olympic Committee, ‘Marketing Fact File’, 32.
2. O’Reilly, What is Web 2.0?: Designs, Patterns and Business Models for the Next Generation
of Software, 5.
3. Gauntlett, Web Studies, 216.
4. Jenkins, Convergence Culture: Where New Media and Old Media Collide, 3.
5. Sonia Livingstone, ‘The Challenges of Changing Audiences Or, What is the Audience
Researcher to do in the Age of the Internet?’, 76.
6. Bowman and Willis, We Media: How Audiences Are Shaping the Future of News and
Information, 8.
7. Deuze, ‘The Web and its Journalisms: Considering the Consequences of Different
Types of Newsmedia Online’, 210.
8. Gillmour, We the Media: Grassroots Journalism by the People, for the People.
9. IOC XIII Olympic Congress Theme 5: The Digital Revolution.
10. IOC, ‘Olympic Marketing Fact File’.
11. National Audit Office, ‘The BBC’s Management of Its Coverage of Major Sporting and
Music Events’.
12. Ibid., 4.
13. Miah et al. ‘We Are the Media: Non-Acredited Media Centres’, 453.
14. British Olympic Foundation. The Modern Olympics Fact Sheet, 8.
15. Miah et al. ‘We are the Media’, 453.
16. IOC, Olympic Review, 8.
17. Vickery and Wunsch-Vincent, Participative Web: User-Created Content, 8.
18. Leung, ‘User-generated Content on the Internet’, 1327.
19. Tapscott and Williams, Wikinomics: How Mass Collaboration Changes Everything.
20. Gillmore, We the Media: Grassroots Journalism by the People, for the People.
21. Goode, ‘Social News, Citizen Journalism and Democracy’, 1289.
22. Anderson, ‘Free! Why $0.00 is the Future of Business’.
23. Raymond and Young, The Cathedral and the Bazaar: Musings on Linux and Open Source
by an Accidental Revolutionary.
24. Belén et al., ‘The Evolution of Volunteers at the Olympic Games’.
25. Boyd et al., ‘Tweet, Tweet, Retweet: Conversational Aspects of Retweeting on
Twitter’.
26. Naughton, A Brief History of the Future: The Origins of the Internet, 269.
27. Winston, Media, Technology and Society: A History: From the Telegraph to the Internet.

References
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Olympic Games’, paper presented at the Conference on Volunteers, Global Society
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danah.org/papers/TweetTweetRetweet.pdf (accessed 16 August 2010).
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18
Myth, Heritage and the Olympic
Enterprise
Toby C. Rider and Kevin B. Wamsley

In 2001, Jacques Rogge became the eighth president in the history of the
International Olympic Committee (IOC). A day after his election, the New York
Times published a column entitled ‘New Leader Represents Old Order’.1 The
Times journalist heralded not only a new leader but, also, Rogge’s profound
connections to previous IOC regimes and the ubiquitous networks of power
and influence which had long ruled the organisation of the Olympic Games.
More importantly, Rogge’s appointment assured historical continuity, a reaf-
firmation of the structures of meaning which had steered the Olympic idea
through decades of a vastly changing political and economic landscape. Like
other IOC presidents, Rogge provided continuity between the old world and
the new. The IOC has been deftly striking this balance since it was formed in
1894, continuously recasting the original purposes of the Modern Olympic
Games to suit the new historical circumstances that have arisen in each passing
year of its existence. How else could a century-old cultural institution, rooted
in intellectual and physical elitism, sustain a position of global significance in
such a markedly changed world?
The IOC and its loyal followers have struck a strategic balance between herit-
age and survival from which the 20th-century Olympic enterprise, a mega-event,
emerged. With some certainty we can suggest that, although desperate to assure
its success, the self-proclaimed founder of the IOC, Baron Pierre de Coubertin,
did not imagine or envision that the Olympic project would become a multi-
billion dollar corporate entity. Coubertin walked within a political and personal
world of lobbying and letter-writing, canvassing a singularity for his event in
the face of alternative organisations and festivals, using only those simple but
effective modes of communication. Coubertin witnessed only mere hints of the
global nationalism which drove Cold War sport in the decades after his death
and glimpses of the spectacle markets which came to drive the billion-dollar
television and sponsorship contracts of the next century.

289
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
290 Myth, Heritage and the Olympic Enterprise

Coubertin’s failure to reinvigorate the youth of France through physical

education and sport led instead to his full and unwavering devotion towards
the reestablishment of an international Olympic competition.2 Through the
first decade of the organisation of the Games, Coubertin correctly assessed
the landscape of influence in the sporting world, gauging the ripe, national-
ist fervour of forming nation states, and the potential of competitive sport to
motivate or interest citizens in a similar fashion to the spectacle of the World’s
Fairs. He also rightly appreciated the value that sporting gentlemen of political
influence placed upon the notion of amateurism. Sportsmen, administrators
and scholars have pored over Coubertin’s voluminous writings, trumpeting
his noble intentions for sport, claiming to know his values, his mission for
the Olympic Games, his philosophies on life and the social order. The contra-
dictions evident in Coubertin’s writing on various themes, and his changing
visions for sport and the Olympics, are not at issue here; rather, it is the use
of such interpretations of Coubertin’s ideas and frequent entreaties to capture
the ideals of what is believed to be an Olympic ‘mission’ that are of interest.
The invocation of Olympic ideals to sustain a vision for the Olympic Games
in an ever-changing world has been a constant pillar or foundation to sustain
and expand their relevance, and their political and economic appeal. These
frequent invocations sustain a mythology which is dependent upon history or
heritage to constantly fashion and energise the Olympic enterprise, as global
relations shift and the sporting context changes. The Cold War and post-Cold
War eras are not Coubertin’s world; yet the modern IOC and its Olympic
disciples harken to an essential mission or unchanging, idyllic traditions that
are supposedly rooted in the years of Coubertin’s presidency. As with old
institutions, the past informs and guides decisions on managing the present.
The heritage of the Olympic Games is no different. There are certain guiding
principles that the IOC has not and, in all probability, cannot ever relinquish.
They are the foundations of the Modern Games, which are often vehemently
invoked to proclaim the festival’s distinction from all other events, the key to
their survival and success.
Like the Modern Games, what we call myth was inherited from the Ancient
Greeks. Myth, or muthos, came to be viewed as ‘fictitious discourse’.3 Its mere
presence rankled with the ancient philosophers who preferred rational thought
to concocted tales. The battle between myth and logic (logos) is not a clear-cut
matter; nor, indeed, is the distinction between myth and history. The study
of myths or mythology is not always about right or wrong, but about what
purpose the myth serves, or what the myth tells us about the social setting in
which it is perpetuated. Joanna Overing argues that the power of myth rests in
its capacity to rouse emotion and provide something that can be adhered or
related to: ‘Its dramatic appeal works not only to capture and impress an audi-
ence, but also to convince them.’4 David Voigt calls myth ‘a dramatic story that
 Toby C. Rider and Kevin B. Wamsley 291

justifies a popular institution or custom, that seeks to explain a given practice

or value, that articulates a people’s wishful thinking, that justifies present
behaviour in terms of what supposedly happened in the past’.5
Sport is fertile ground for myth. There is a considerable body of literature
that has sought to either set the record straight, or to investigate the very
nature of these myths, why they endure, and what they tell us about sport
and its place in society.6 Roland Barthes, for example, has looked at how the
‘sports consumer’ elevates the athlete to represent a ‘demigod’.7 In Mythologies
he examines the world of the wrestler and the symbolism of the spectacle.
Outside of the ring, the wrestler is just a man; inside of it, he can conduct
the audience and recreate ‘great legendary themes’.8 Certainly, in the case of
what Douglas Booth calls ‘debunking’, the power of myth is further apparent.
The guided tour of the National Cemetery at Arlington in Washington DC, for
example, still identifies Abner Doubleday’s contribution to modern American
culture as the first man to pen the rules for baseball. Historians have argued
that there is not a particle of truth to the story but it remains a foundation of
public history.9
Indeed, the Olympic Games, Ancient and Modern, are shrouded in similar
mythologies – and this, certainly, is part of the source of their popular appeal.
Most of these myths have been challenged, comprehensively, by historians such
as David C. Young. The Modern Olympics, for example, were organised origi-
nally for amateur athletes and based, supposedly, on the same ideal espoused
by the Ancient Greeks. Young challenged this popular notion. ‘Ancient ama-
teurism is a myth,’ he empathically charged, a hoax created by classicists ‘to
represent the values of Victorian gentleman amateur athletes.’10 This case
demonstrates how myth has been effectively used to extensively influence
sporting life – essentially organising widespread sporting relations based on a
mythical ideal. Young was also responsible for debunking the myth created by
Coubertin – that he, alone, conceived the idea of the Olympic Games. Young’s
evidence points to the Greek poet, Panagiotis Soutsos, whose eager desire to
recapture the glories of Greek history led to an Olympic festival in 1859 and
the subsequent Greek festivals of the 19th century. The efforts of Soustos and
others influenced Englishman William Penny Brookes, who organised the
Olympic Games of Much Wenlock and passed the idea of international compe-
tition to Coubertin; however, the Coubertin myth created a more romanticised
and complete resurrection of the Modern Olympic Games.11
In one of Rogge’s early written pronouncements on the Olympic Games in
his role as President of the IOC, he made two principles very clear. Firstly, he
claimed that the role of the Olympics ‘is to place everywhere sport at the service
of the harmonious development of humankind, with a view to encouraging the
establishment of a peaceful society concerned with the preservation of human
dignity’. He further added that ‘Non-discrimination is a fundamental principle
292 Myth, Heritage and the Olympic Enterprise

of the Olympic Charter’.12 These two principles lie at the heart of IOC rhetoric:
the Games are about peaceful internationalism and all-inclusive universalism.
The two enduring Olympic myths, that the Games embody peace and equality,
played significant roles in creating and sustaining the Olympic enterprise. The
two concepts, riddled with contradictions when placed in Olympic contexts,
served and continue to serve as a lasting testament to the heritage of Pierre
de Coubertin. More importantly, they link present to fictional past, creating
referents of distinction to other sporting and cultural festivals, which created
political focal points and extensive markets for Olympic symbols.
When Coubertin carefully assembled a like-minded group of social elites
to present his idea of resurrecting the Games, he at once cast the project as a
vehicle of peace. By calling on athletes to represent the nations of the world
he suggested that the festival would break down social and cultural barriers,
and bring different peoples together in a friendly spirit of internationalism.13
Each President in the history of the International Olympic Committee has
revered this principle of peace. None has dared challenge it. To do so would be
to challenge the core of the festival itself. In this idyllic cocoon, the Olympics
were never to be about, or harried by, external political matters. Coubertin
was a man with political nous who denied that the Games were political. As
his biographer, John MacAloon, has commented: ‘He [Coubertin] could claim
for the Games a central place in human affairs which he knew to be emi-
nently political and simultaneously act as if ideology and politics were mere
epiphenomena to be “transcended”’.14 No other IOC President advanced this
brazen tenet more than Avery Brundage. During his inaugural speech in 1952,
he claimed that while other international sport festivals caused ‘friction’, the
Olympics produced ‘only friendship and harmony’.15 It is this claim to an apo-
litical higher meaning, writ large over each Olympics, which the IOC asserts
makes the Games distinct from so many international competitions. The
Games, as such, have been valorised by a noble mission. They are positioned
to serve a grander ideal but, upon closer examination, one that is antithetical
to the event itself.
Peace may have been a goal, but it was peace with a fatal flaw. Coubertin’s
interest in physical training and sport was based in the defeat of France in the
Franco-Prussian War of 1870. During Coubertin’s youth, France had neither a
powerful military nor a fit and trained male citizenry. He envisioned France
standing beside the nations with sporting and training traditions – Britain, the
United States and Prussia. Coubertin brought this philosophy to his Olympic
Games: ‘One must be able to draw inspiration from the flag under whose colors
one is doing battle,’ he wrote in 1910.16 Advocates of the Olympics have fol-
lowed the argument. The life-long sponsor of Olympic principles, Carl Diem,
took pleasure in victorious athletes saluting their flag, ‘each for the honour
of his country’.17 But by creating an event that pitted nation against nation,
 Toby C. Rider and Kevin B. Wamsley 293

politics were endemic to the proceedings from the beginning to the present.18
So it has proven. Sport became increasingly important in the 20th century as a
source of national identity and as a symbol of national strength. The Olympic
Games and other international sports competitions emerged as arenas for
nations to prove this. Enjoying competition for the sake of competition was
not the main rationale for participating at the Olympic festival. In India, for
example, a series of poor performances by its athletes led an Indian IOC mem-
ber to question sending a team to the 1940 Games. In a letter to the IOC, G. D.
Sondhi stated: ‘Mere taking part is not enough . . . you will admit that if success
in the Olympic Games brings public renown, a consistent and continuous poor
showing is likely to do the reverse.’19
Politics and conflict have dominated all Olympic festivals of the Modern
era. Beyond their problematic beginnings in Athens, conflict over a permanent
site, issues of control over the IOC, nationalist squabbles between nations, the
Games could not withstand the World Wars. The First World War prevented
a festival in 1916. The cancellation signalled the death knell on Coubertin’s
hopes that the Modern Games might replicate the uninterrupted flow of those
in the ancient world.20 While the feuding city-states of ancient Greece allowed
for safe passage to those who sought to watch or compete at Olympia, the IOC
could not distract the world from the carnage of the Western Front. Coubertin
even had thoughts of deserting his creation but decided resolutely that ‘the
captain should not leave the bridge of his ship when it is storming’.21 Not long
after his death the storm returned. History would repeat when two successive
Games from 1940 to 1944 were prevented due to the events of the Second
World War.
Although the 1936 Olympics were awarded to Berlin during the Weimar
Republic, two years after the decision was made Adolf Hitler controlled the
country. He broke the shackles of the Treaty of Versailles and moulded Germany
according to a fascist racial doctrine. The rights of Jewish Germans evaporated, as
did their freedom to participate as members on the German Olympic team.
Across the world, sports officials and the public protested the holding of an
Olympic festival in a country with a belligerent foreign and domestic policy.22
The complaints and protests fell by the wayside when Avery Brundage ensured
the participation of the symbolically and physically powerful American team.23
He put human deprivation aside in preference for an international sport event
that he argued projected only a vision of human goodwill.
Four years later, the Games were due to be staged in Tokyo. Once more,
a festival of peace looked to be appearing in a country with a belligerent for-
eign policy. After some provocation, Japan had invaded China in 1931, claimed
the region of Manchuria for itself, and set up a puppet Republic of Manchukuo.
The League of Nations had voted for non-recognition of Manchukuo in 1933,
causing Japan to withdraw from the League. When war ignited with China
294 Myth, Heritage and the Olympic Enterprise

again in 1937, the IOC was not concerned with the war itself but whether
Tokyo could successfully host the Games at a time of national emergency.
It was the stretched resources of Japan that led to the eventual demise of the
Tokyo Games, not the foibles of the IOC concerning foreign policy.24
In 1956, the Melbourne Olympic Games were preceded by the Suez Crisis
and the Hungarian Revolution. Both events caused several nations to boycott
the Olympics because the IOC failed to formally address these issues with the
perpetrating countries, particularly the Soviet Union, whose tanks broke the
rising in Budapest.25 The Hungarian Olympic team reached Melbourne in a
state of disbelief; some of the squad had taken up arms against Soviet troops,
many planned to defect. The Olympic pool provided an outlet for national
frustration as blood spilled during the water polo match between Hungary and
the Soviet Union.26 During the Cold War period the Games had become, pos-
sibly more than ever before, the most significant world stage to demonstrate
cultural supremacy and to celebrate the nationalisms of the east and west.
Olympic enterprise emerged strongly from the world’s political and military
uncertainties, while President Brundage and the IOC insisted that the Games
remained apolitical, when clearly they were not.
So successful were the IOC and supporting nations at distancing themselves
from a pre-Games massacre of 300 citizens by the Mexican army in 1968 that
few mentioned the tragedy within the context of Olympic history for decades.27
The Munich Games of 1972 endured the first targeted attack. Terrorists bent on
utilising the Games to draw attention to the plight of Palestinians broke into
the Olympic Village and captured a group of Israeli athletes. After negotiations
and a botched siege at a nearby airport, 11 Israeli athletes and coaches lost their
lives.28 Since the disaster at Munich, peace could only be bought with a multi-
million, now billion-dollar security budget.29
Numerous other examples in Olympic history demonstrate that the Games
have provided a forum for political opposition as opposed to cultural under-
standing. There had been boycotts before at the Olympics, but none on the
scale of the 1980 Moscow Games. The Soviet invasion of Afghanistan in 1979
was the prime reason for over 60 nations refusing to send a team to compete in
Moscow.30 Four years later, the Los Angeles Olympics were boycotted by the
Soviet bloc, with the lone exception of Romania.31 The Cold War Olympics
were anything but peaceful, whether on the field or off, and this became
fuel for the enterprise and widened its appeal. An article published in Sports
Illustrated by the US Attorney General, Robert F. Kennedy, made the point quite
clearly. The Soviet Union’s athletes had defeated those from the USA at the
1956 and 1960 Summer Games. Kennedy wanted no such defeat in 1964:

… in this day of international stalemates nations use the scoreboard of

sports as a visible measuring stick to prove their superiority over the ‘soft
 Toby C. Rider and Kevin B. Wamsley 295

and decadent’ democratic way of life. It is thus in our national interest

that we regain our Olympic superiority – that we once again give the world
visible proof of our inner strength and vitality.32

The Soviet Union adhered to the same ideas. Before 1952, it had never sent
a team to any Olympic Games and, prior to 1945, generally avoided contacts
with bourgeois nations. After the Second World War, the USSR plotted a course
to dominate world sport, and thus prove that communist ideology produced
fitter, healthier people, and, of course, a better society. Having made this deci-
sion, the Soviet Union waited until 1952 to send a team to the Games and the
motives were clear. As the Soviet Chairman for the government Committee
on Physical Culture and Sport, Nikolai Romanov, has said: ‘In order to gain
permission to go to international competitions I had to send a special note to
Stalin guaranteeing victory.’33
More recently, in the past 20 years, the severity of international incidents
attached to the Olympics has declined but political controversy has not, by
any means, ceased. The bid for, and hosting of, the 2008 Beijing Games, for
example, was accompanied by considerable controversy over human rights
violations perpetrated by the host Chinese government in occupying Tibet.
Against a backdrop of these atrocities, Rogge’s claims that the Games are dedi-
cated to peaceful coexistence did not stray far from the similar ruminations
of Avery Brundage. Both men chose to draw on myth as opposed to unpalat-
able reality. The political stakes are not higher in the present, because it was
Brundage who steered the Olympic enterprise through its most troubled times,
setting the groundwork for the complete commercialisation of the Games a
decade after his death. But the present, corporate, Olympics are just as depend-
ent upon concepts such as peace, and on other invocations which give the
Games their distinction.
Rogge’s second claim, that the Olympic Games are non-discriminatory, is the
second foundational myth upon which the Olympic enterprise relies. Indeed,
competitive sport and the Olympic Games are organised fundamentally on the
premise of inequality, otherwise no victors would be declared. During the early
years of the Games, the notion of equality between participants and countries
was ensured by the faulty premise that competition is a naturally occurring
phenomenon flowing from biology into culture. Social Darwinism rationalised
the hierarchies of power, wealth and opportunity in society, and the Olympic
Games provided opportunities to celebrate the best athletes, of course at the
expense of all others. Inequality is the basis of sport. Although Coubertin wrote
volumes about the opportunities that sport and his Olympic Games created
and its potential to unite the world, he understood fully that competitive sport
necessarily separated the layers of elite athletes from the masses. He thought
that ‘individual liberty was the highest good’,34 that sport could not ‘iron
296 Myth, Heritage and the Olympic Enterprise

out inequalities in social conditions’, but that it could ‘place relationships on

an equal footing’.35 Without doubt, the Olympics were not for everyone but
Coubertin did not delight in the average. He threatened that moderation acted
against nature and, thus, placed the athletic record ‘at the very summit of the
sports edifice’.36 In spite of Rogge’s claims of non-discrimination, beyond basic
historical considerations of who could compete, what training was available,
what resources were marshalled for Olympic teams by particular countries, the
Olympic Games had always been discriminatory in myriad ways.
Stringent amateur regulations determined which athletes could participate
in the Games and under what conditions; the IOC, in consultation with
the International Sport Federations, after 1912 determined which sports
would remain and appear on the program. In three decades the IOC under
Coubertin’s leadership fashioned the Olympics as the most important sporting
festival, exercising its ability to determine who participated, in what sports,
and the conditions of participation. The distinct status of the Games permitted
the IOC to vanquish all rival festivals, while establishing itself as the supreme
authority in sport. Coubertin’s control over the emerging enterprise, his tireless
striving to ensure its success, and his devotion to creating a higher purpose for
Olympic competition through his publications, speeches and letters gave him
iconic status, an historical footing upon which the previously discussed apoliti-
cal doctrine emanated.
The Olympic Games reinforced men’s control over political, economic and
cultural matters, celebrating the physical capacities, strength and speed of
male athletes. Admiration for the international success of the Games drew
the challenge of female athletes and supporters for their official, formal
participation in the Olympics, which culminated in their admission, in a
limited capacity, in 1928. Few men in sport leadership roles endorsed the
participation of women in sport in the early decades of the 20th century; this
reluctance is represented in Coubertin’s often-cited remarks that the Games
were to celebrate the ‘solemn and periodic exaltation of male athleticism’ and
that women’s participation was ‘uninteresting, ungainly, and, I do not hesitate
to add, improper’.37 Banned from the first Games, in 1896, women partici-
pated in various unofficial events such as archery, tennis, golf and skating. Not
until Coubertin stepped down as IOC President in 1925 did the IOC and the
federations address the growing support for women’s participation.38
The IOC played a significant role in controlling and shaping women’s sport
along traditional demarcations of the gender order. Ironically, however, the
Cold War Olympics became the most significant force in creating opportunities
for women’s competition in sport at elite levels. Women struggled for equality
in representation and leadership in sport for the rest of the 20th century,
being finally granted participation in such events as basketball and the mara-
thon. Women are scheduled to compete in the wrestling events and in three
 Toby C. Rider and Kevin B. Wamsley 297

weight classes of boxing in London in 2012. However, the struggle for equality
remains, as women are significantly underrepresented on the IOC and in inter-
national and national federations. Not until 1981 did two women take their
place as members of the IOC. Even now, the numbers are extremely uneven.
Out of the 114 members, there are still only 19 women.39
The IOC relies on its Charter when expediency is necessary to address adver-
sity or conflict such as charges of discriminatory practices. Most recently, the
IOC held its ground, not permitting women to participate in ski jumping at the
Vancouver Olympics. The IOC claims that the decision to exclude the event
was due to its early stage of development. Vertinksy et al. note the weakness
of this defence:

This argument is somewhat problematic given that there are 135 elite female
ski jumpers registered in 16 countries while the IOC has recently welcomed
events such as snowboard cross with 34 female competitors in 10 countries,
bobsled with 26 women in 13 countries and newly added ski cross with 30
women in 11 countries.40

Eligibility, by gender or the widely applied amateur code, has always been
grounds for exclusion at the Olympic Games but there has been wholesale
exclusion, even on a national scale. The citizens of the defeated nations of
war after the First World War were forbidden from competing at the Olympic
Games in 1920. German athletes could not participate until 1928. Following
the Second World War, German athletes were barred from the 1948 Games,
regardless of whether or not they were Nazis or had followed the Nazi Party
doctrine.41
Athletes who fled their country because they did not subscribe to a particular
ideological doctrine have also suffered at the hands of the IOC Charter. The
events of the Second World War, and the establishment of communist regimes
throughout Eastern Europe after it, caused possibly the greatest mass exodus
and displacement of peoples in human history.42 Rather than adapt to these
circumstances, the IOC faithfully adhered to its Charter. If an athlete had
no country to compete for then they could not compete. During the 1950s,
hundreds of exiled athletes asked for special dispensation to perform at the
Olympics as individuals or collective groups, only to be refused by the IOC.43
On a far grander and more troubling scale, the Olympics have been the
reason for the displacement of persons. Such is the requirement for space to
stage the event that large urban centres simply do not have room to build all
the requisite facilities. A report prepared by the Centre on Housing Rights and
Evictions in 2007 claimed that in the previous 20 years two million people
had been moved from their homes or place of work to accommodate mega-
events like the Olympics. The report confirmed that 720,000 people faced this
298 Myth, Heritage and the Olympic Enterprise

problem as a result of the 1988 Games in Seoul, and predicted that 1.5 million
were due to be displaced for the Beijing Olympics in 2008.44
In most cases regarding eligibility and participation, the IOC took action. In
other cases, the IOC has been criticised for its apathy. The IOC, and especially
some of its leaders, received many rather pointed accusations over the years.
Some of the most resounding allegations apply to the IOC’s trend of turn-
ing a blind eye to nations organised around racial prejudice. John Hoberman
claims that the decision by the decidedly right-wing IOC to proceed with the
Berlin Olympics was not an ‘isolated lapse’, and proves its affinity with fascist
doctrine.45 The connection between the IOC and fascism is not an empty claim.
It is clear that one-time president, Sigfrid Edström, harboured anti-Semitic
feelings. In the year that Hitler reached power, he wrote that he was ‘not per-
sonally fond of Jews and the Jewish influence’. He did not claim to agree with
Nazi persecution but acknowledged that Jewish influence had to be amended
in Germany to keep it a ‘white nation’.46 During his leadership, Edström stood
staunchly by the German IOC members. They were his colleagues and his
friends. This allegiance was evident when the IOC reconvened after the Second
World War. Some of the German IOC members were very much involved in
the Nazi Party and this fact alone sat uneasily with many fellow IOC members.
When the topic emerged during a General Session in 1951, Edström refused to
have the German members omitted.47 Jewish athletes could be excluded from
the German Olympic team but fascists could not be ousted from the IOC.
Edström’s successor, Avery Brundage, shared the same sentiments on Jews.
Brundage’s prejudice formed during the movement to boycott the 1936
Olympics. He blamed Jews for the attempted boycott and thought that it was
Jews alone that disapproved of the actions taken by Hitler. For a time, Brundage
collected anti-Semitic literature and his correspondence contained references
about Jewish ‘materialism’. Like Edström, he had no trouble welcoming
the German IOC members back into the Olympic family after the Second
World War.48
Brundage also blatantly ignored Apartheid in South Africa. For many years
prior to the Second World War, the white South African population monopo-
lised political power. By the late 1940s, a gradual move to force the black
population into separate colonies was consolidated.49 This racial separation was
reproduced in sport. No black South African could compete for South Africa
in international competition. The problem of racial discrimination in South
Africa was raised in IOC meetings in the mid-1950s and reached a peak at the
end of the 1960s.50 The IOC suspended South Africa in 1963, but reconsidered
its status for the 1968 Games after reassurances that black athletes had been
given the opportunity to try out for the team. Brundage wanted South African
participation, as did many others in the IOC, so the promises were accepted and
South Africa readmitted. Only the threat of a monumental mass boycott forced
 Toby C. Rider and Kevin B. Wamsley 299

the IOC to retract the decision. In 1970, South Africa was finally expelled from
the Olympic Movement.51 Once again, the IOC reacted to challenges, threats,
and crisis but in spite of its consistent claims, it had never operated upon tenets
of equality and non-discrimination.
Two writers concluded over 40 years ago: ‘No realist could claim that the
Games, whatever their other merits, have produced a striking degree of interna-
tional harmony.’52 But peace and equality are two fundamental assertions which
fuelled and sustained the Olympic enterprise, through countless challenges,
tragedies and conflict. Upon close scrutiny, the Olympic Games are a corporate
entity that sells a product to the largest bidder, a corrupt and ‘amoral’ organisa-
tion that acts and behaves much as it pleases.53 Invocations of peace and equality
create distinction for the Olympics from other international sports and events,
enabling them to thrive as the most successfully marketed international cultural
enterprise in history. Obliterating these attractive myths would simply reduce it
to the status of other track meets and professional sporting events.
As the Doubleday myth tells us, the work of historians does not always
change the public perception. The myths of the Olympic Games are perpetu-
ated in many means and media. Olympic advocates constantly speak with
uncritical praise, and even some ‘academic’ works cannot help but assign the
Games with a higher meaning. Lord Killanin once said that the IOC’s responsi-
bility lay not only with the Games, but in the promotion of Olympic ideals.54
The IOC invests in spreading the Olympic message, and the message reaches
far and wide. Each individual who served as President of the IOC carries the
responsibility to repeat these myths. The enterprise now rests with Rogge.

Notes
1. ‘New Leader Represents Old Order,’ New York Times, 17 July 2001.
2. On this subject see, for example, Young, The Modern Olympics: A Struggle for Revival.
3. Overing, ‘The Role of Myth: An Anthropological Perspective, Or: “The Reality of the
Really Made Up”’, 1; Vernant, Myth and Society in Ancient Greece, 203.
4. Overing, ‘The Role of Myth’, 1–2.
5. Voigt, ‘Myths after Baseball: Notes on Myths in Sports’, 46.
6. Booth, The Field: Truth and Fiction in Sport History, 123–126; Whannel, Media Sports
Stars: Masculinities and Moralities 52–53; Holt and Mangan, ‘Prologue: Heroes of a
European Past’, 1.
7. Lenk, ‘Herculean “Myth” Aspects of Athletics’, 438.
8. Barthes, ‘The World of Wrestling’, 92–93.
9. We are indebted to Robert K. Barney for this piece of information.
10. Young, The Olympic Myth of Greek Amateur Athletics, 7–13.
11. See Young, The Modern Olympics.
12. Jacques Rogge, ‘Dialogue between Cultures and Civilizations’, 1.
13. MacAloon, This Great Symbol: Pierre de Coubertin and the Origins of the Modern Olympic
Games, 188–189.
14. Ibid., 6. Brackets ours.
300 Myth, Heritage and the Olympic Enterprise

15. The Speeches of President Avery Brundage, 1952–1968, 5.

16. Müller, Pierre de Coubertin 1863–1937: Olympism: Selected Writings, 265.
17. Diem, The Olympic Idea: Discourses and Essays, 8.
18. Guttmann, The Olympics: A History of the Modern Games, 1–2.
19. Cited in Majumdar and Mehta, India and the Olympics, 44.
20. Müller, Pierre de Coubertin 1863–1937: Olympism: Selected Writings, 45.
21. Lyberg, IOC General Session Minutes, Volume I 1894–1919, 86.
22. See, for example, Mandell, The Nazi Olympics; Hart-Davis, Hitler’s Games: The 1936
Olympics.
23. Marvin, ‘Avery Brundage and American Participation in the 1936 Olympic Games’.
24. For the best work on this subject, see Collins, The 1940 Tokyo Games: The Missing
Olympics.
25. Senn, Power, Politics, and the Olympic Games: A History of the Power Brokers, Events, and
Controversies that Shaped the Games, 106–109; Monnin and David, ‘The Melbourne
Games in the Context of the International Tensions of 1956’, 34–40.
26. Rinehart, ‘“Fists Flew and Blood Flowed”: Symbolic Resistance and International
Response in Hungarian Water Polo at the Melbourne Olympics, 1956’.
27. See, for example, Witherspoon, Before the Eyes of the World: Mexico and the 1968
Olympic Games.
28. Guttmann, The Games Must Go On: Avery Brundage and the Olympic Movement, 251–252.
29. Atkinson and Young, ‘Political Violence, Terrorism, and Security at the Olympic
Games’.
30. Kanin, A Political History of the Olympic Games, 108–147.
31. Hill, Olympic Politics: Athens to Atlanta, 138–160; Wilson, ‘The Golden Opportunity:
Romania’s Political Manipulation of the 1984 Los Angles Olympic Games’.
32. Kennedy, ‘A Bold Proposal for American Sport’.
33. Riordan, ‘Rewriting Soviet Sport History’, 249.
34. Guttmann, The Olympics, 2.
35. Müller, ed., Pierre de Coubertin 1863–1937: Olympism: Selected Writings, 214.
36. Müller, ed., Pierre de Coubertin 1863–1937: Olympism: Selected Writings, 749.
37. Müller, Pierre de Coubertin 1863–1937: Olympism: Selected Writings, 713.
38. Wamsley and Pfister, ‘Olympic Men and Women: The Politics of Gender in the
Modern Games’.
39. IOC website, www.olympic.org/en/content/The-IOC/The-IOC-Institution1/IOC-
members-list/ (accessed 18 May 2010).
40. Vertinsky et al., ‘“Skierinas” in the Olympics: Gender Justice and Gender Politics
at the Local, National and International Level over the Challenge of Women’s Ski
Jumping’, 41.
41. Senn, Power, Politics, and the Olympic Games, 36, 45, 66.
42. Marrus, The Unwanted: European Refugees in the Twentieth Century.
43. For more on this issue, see Rider, ‘The Distant Fight Against Communist Sport: Refugee
Sports Organizations in America and the International Olympic Committee’.
44. Neubauer, ‘Modern Sport and Olympic Games: The Problematic Complexities Raised
by the Dynamics of Globalization, 23–24.
45. Hoberman, ‘Toward a Theory of Olympic Internationalism’, 17.
46. Yttergren, ‘Questions of Propriety: J. Sigfrid Edström, Anti-Semitism, and the 1936
Berlin Olympics’, 79.
47. Lyberg, IOC General Session Minutes, Volume III 1948–1955, 274.
48. Guttmann, The Games Must Go On, 90–94, 102.
49. Vadney, The World Since 1945, 252; Hill, Olympic Politics, 198–240.
 Toby C. Rider and Kevin B. Wamsley 301

50. Espy, The Politics of the Olympic Games, 69, 125–129; Hill, Olympic Politics, 198–240.
51. Hill, Olympic Politics, 199–217.
52. Goodhart and Chataway, War without Weapons: The Rise of Mass Sport in the Twentieth
Century – and Its Effect on Men and Nations, 2.
53. Booth, ‘Gifts of Corruption? Ambiguities of Obligation in the Olympic Movement’;
Hoberman, The Olympic Crisis: Sport, Politics and the Moral Order.
54. Lord Killanin’s Speeches from 1972–1981, 11.

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19
The Olympics, the Law and the
Contradictions of Olympism
Steve Greenfield, Mark James and Guy Osborn

Introduction

London 2012 promises many things.1 It is of course a truism that each edition
of the Olympic Games promises to be an unrivalled sporting and cultural spec-
tacle that is a genuinely global mega-event with unequalled penetration.2 At the
same time, a central tenet of the rhetoric used in Candidate Cities’ bid docu-
mentation when trying to secure the hosting of the Games has focused upon
a number of key, though less global, themes, many of which have revolved
around the issue of legacy. Legacy has become a somewhat overused term, or in
the words of the London Assembly‘s tautology, a ‘hackneyed cliché’;3 however,
Olympic bid narratives are riddled with such references. One of the key legacy
issues in the London bid was that hosting the Games would improve sporting
participation rates, with the Chairman of the London Organising Committee
Lord Coe acknowledging that this claim was fundamental to the success of
the bid. Further, the aim of creating a grassroots sporting legacy for Londoners
through the provision of a vastly improved capital and coaching infrastructure
has been specifically acknowledged and supported by the Mayor of London.4
Another legacy issue has focused on social re-generation:

The greatest prize is that of using the Games as a catalyst for profound
change in a swathe of London that has historically suffered from significant
levels of neglect and deprivation. The ambition is to use a vast decontami-
nated site and a series of empty buildings as a spur to deliver new vibrant
communities and to shift ‘London’s centre of gravity eastwards’.5

Certainly the official websites of London 2012 and the Olympic Park Legacy
Company paint an enticing picture of what they say will be one of the largest
urban parks in Europe;6 whether these objectives can be realised, however,
is a moot point. Despite legacy being central to the rhetoric of the London

304
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 Steve Greenfield, Mark James and Guy Osborn 305

Organising Committee of the Olympic Games (LOCOG), the UK government

and other stakeholders, there are no legal guarantees in place to ensure that a
lasting legacy is actually delivered by any of the organisations associated with
London 2012. This was most clearly demonstrated by the discussions concern-
ing the future use of the Olympic Stadium after the conclusion of the Games
and the controversy surrounding Tottenham Hotspur Football Club’s unsuc-
cessful proposal to dismantle it and build a new football ground in its place
whilst offering a refurbished athletics venue elsewhere.7
Whilst these legacy issues have been hotly contested and debated since the
success of London’s bid, there has been a series of other specific issues that
have had to be addressed in order for the Olympic Games to proceed which
have attracted far less critical comment. For example, one Act of Parliament has
been passed to ensure the delivery of the infrastructure of the Games of the
30th Olympiad and to protect the commercial and intellectual property rights
most closely associated with London 2012, with a second being significantly
amended to reinforce the commercial protections afforded to the Olympics
more generally. The need to maximise revenue from these lucrative income
streams is self-evident as the costs of hosting the Olympics must be met by
LOCOG. However, it appears that the ideals of the Olympic Movement, as
enshrined in the Olympic Charter, and the desire to deliver a lasting legacy,
have been sidelined by these commercial imperatives.
This chapter serves two main purposes. First, it outlines the background to,
and content of, the Olympic legislation that is required before the Games can
be awarded and can take place. Secondly, it examines the underpinning of the
concept of the Olympics themselves by considering the Olympic Charter and
the Fundamental Principles of Olympism. It views the legislation that has been
enacted within that context and asks whether these statutory interventions and
the aims of the Charter are compatible. In particular, the chapter will demon-
strate that whilst the legislation has focused primarily on commercial interests,
there were genuine opportunities to utilise the power of the Games as a force to
promote changes more in line with the Olympic Movement’s avowed underlying
principles and essence, and that the failure to do this was an opportunity missed.

The Olympic legislation

Specific legislation to protect the commercial rights associated with the

Olympics have become commonplace since the Millennial Games in Sydney.
The Sydney 2000 Games (Indicia and Images) Protection Act 1996 was followed
by similar, though more far-reaching, legislation at each subsequent edition of
both the Summer and Winter Olympics. The London Olympic and Paralympic
Games Act 2006 (LOGPA 2006) received its Royal Assent on 30 March 2006,
allowing well over six years for the bodies created or empowered by it to deliver
306 The Olympics, the Law and the Contradictions of Olympism

the 2012 Olympics. The two bodies that are key to the successful hosting of the
London Olympics are the Olympic Delivery Authority (ODA) and LOCOG;
the ODA is a public body created by section 3 LOGPA 2006 for the purpose
of delivering the infrastructure necessary to host the Olympic Games whilst
LOCOG, created in 2005 by the British Olympic Association (BOA), the Mayor
of London and the Secretary of State for Culture, Media and Sport, is a private
company limited by guarantee whose sole purpose is to organise the Games.
In delivering the infrastructure for the Olympic Games, the ODA must fulfil
a number of specific tasks: under section 4 LOGPA 2006 it must build the nec-
essary sporting and accommodation facilities; under sections 10–17, alter and
upgrade London’s transport infrastructure in accordance with the Olympic
Transport Plan; and under section 6, cooperate with the police on issues of
security. If these functions are effectively discharged, then the Olympic Venues
and Athletes’ Village will be built in time and to the requisite standards and all
athletes, officials, spectators and members of the world’s media should be able
to be transported around London, and the other cities in which events are
taking place,8 as safely and efficiently as is possible. The duties, and the associ-
ated powers to enable them to be discharged, are relatively non-contentious;
if London is to stage the Olympic Games, then a public body of this nature
undertaking these roles, is a necessity. Likewise, a body such as LOCOG that is
solely responsible for organising the Olympic sporting and cultural programs,
marketing and selling tickets and merchandising and entering into sponsor-
ship agreements is also obviously necessary. Without these two bodies fulfilling
these various roles, the London Olympics could not take place.
Where the Olympic legislation goes beyond the legal protections normally
provided to major international organisations and the organisers of commer-
cial mega-events is in respect of the restrictions that have been placed on the
commercial exploitation of the goodwill associated with, and the commercial
opportunities arising out of, hosting the Games. The use of the Olympic Symbol
and motto (‘citius, altius, fortius’ and translations thereof) and a limited range of
related words, specifically ‘Olympiad’, ‘Olympian’, ‘Olympic’ and their plurals,
together with their Paralympic equivalents, has long been restricted by statute.9
Section 1 of the Olympic Symbol Protection Act 1995 (OSPA 1995) creates the
Olympic Association Right (OAR) which allows only the BOA, or those who
have permission from it, to use these protected words and symbols.10 The aim
of this Act is to enable the BOA to exploit the commercial rights associated with
the Olympic Movement in order that it can remain independent from political
and sporting interference by being entirely self-funding. As the interlocking
five rings are one of the most universally recognised symbols, the ability to
exploit an association with its positive attributes is a desirable commodity.
Thus, only the International Olympic Committee’s official representative in
the UK, the BOA, is permitted to use the words and symbols most closely
 Steve Greenfield, Mark James and Guy Osborn 307

associated with the Olympic Movement; this is generally considered to be a

non-contentious protection which prevents the unauthorised use and dilution
of the Olympic brand to fund the activities of the BOA.11
What is much more contentious is the extension of the protections afforded
to the symbols specifically associated with the London Olympics and the pro-
visions for their enforcement that are contained in LOGPA 2006. Not only is
LOCOG authorised to exploit the OAR until 31 December 2012,12 but section
33 of the Act creates the London Olympic Association Right (LOAR) specifically
for its exploitation. As defined in Schedule 4 LOGPA 2006, the LOAR prevents
anyone other than LOCOG, or those to whom it has granted the necessary
permissions, from using one of the following words in a manner that suggests
a contractual, commercial or corporate association with the London Olympics:
‘games’, ‘Two Thousand and Twelve’, ‘2012’ and ‘twenty twelve’ with either
any other word in this group or one or more words in the following group:
‘gold’, ‘silver’, ‘bronze’, ‘London’, ‘medals’, ‘sponsor’ and ‘summer’. Where
prohibited combinations of these words are used in a commercial context the
LOAR is breached. In this situation, LOCOG has the right to compensation for
the unauthorised use of the protected words and symbols or an injunction to
prevent their use,13 can apply for erasure of an offending advertisement, or the
delivery up of any goods on which the protected words and symbols are used.
Further, an offence is committed under section 8 OSPA 1995 where a person
uses the protected words and symbols with a view to making a gain for himself
or another or a loss to another, most obviously LOCOG or one of its authorised
sponsors. This can be done by using the protected words or symbols on packag-
ing, labelling or in advertising, selling or offering to sell or storing goods mak-
ing use of the offending packaging or labelling and having in one’s possession
an article capable of reproducing such packaging, labels or adverts.
Domestic law already prohibits the unauthorised use of copyrighted
and trademarked words and symbols. Thus, all of the logos and mascots created
for the London Games are already protected under the Copyright, Designs
and Patents Act 1988 and the Trade Marks Act 1994. What is unusual is that in
addition to these protections, the Olympic legislation specifically restricts the
use of ordinary words that are descriptive of an event, including in particular
the time and place when it takes place, which are not normally capable of
protection in UK law. Under normal circumstances, an undertaking such as
LOCOG would have to bring an action in ‘passing off’ where it considered that
there had been an attempt to make an unauthorised association with the event
that it was organising.14 Passing off is the legal action by which LOCOG could
protect the goodwill, or value, invested in its brand. Proof of passing off would
require LOCOG to establish that its brand has value (which the Olympics
clearly does), that another person has claimed an unauthorised connection
to it in a field of common commercial activity and that the public have been
308 The Olympics, the Law and the Contradictions of Olympism

confused by that other’s use of the Olympic brand. If the commercial value of
LOCOG’s rights, or its reputation as a ‘brand’ producing merchandise or organ-
ising the Olympics, is diluted by the ‘passing off’ then the action will succeed,
the unauthorised conduct can be stopped and compensation awarded. The
Olympic legislation ensures that LOCOG does not have to go to the trouble of
proving that there was a common field of activity, for example that both par-
ties are involved in the business of selling Olympic souvenirs, or that anyone
was confused by the creation of an unofficial or unauthorised link with the
Games. If the protected words or phrases are used, the link to the Games and
the harm caused to LOCOG are assumed regardless of whether the offending
use was in the course of business or for non-commercial purposes.
There are further restrictions on the ways in which products can be marketed
around the time of the Games taking place in London. In particular, steps have
been taken to outlaw the use of specific marketing techniques, often referred
to as ambush marketing,15 in and around Olympic venues. Ambush marketing
is the deliberate, unauthorised association with an event by an advertiser with
a view to their exploiting its goodwill for commercial purposes. The IOC and
LOCOG have two specific concerns where ambush marketing is concerned.
First, as they require ‘clean’ venues free from all marketing, all advertising is
banned in and on the venue itself.16 Secondly, they want to prevent the reduc-
tion in value of the exclusive sponsorship arrangements entered into with the
official Olympic partners. Section 19 LOGPA 2006 provides for the regulation
of all advertising, including advertising of a non-commercial nature, in the
vicinity of all Olympic venues. This would ensure that any advertiser of a
commercial product or, it would appear, anyone conducting an anti-Olympic
campaign, would not be able to put up any posters or hoardings, distribute
any articles or leaflets, or display or project any words or lights or sounds
without the permission of the ODA. Where the police and/or the ODA reason-
ably believe that a breach of section 19 is taking place, section 22 grants them
the right to enter premises to remove, destroy, conceal or erase the offending
advertisements and to confiscate anything that has been used to create them.
Further, creating, displaying or distributing such adverts is an offence under
section 21 LOGPA 2006 that can be prosecuted by the ODA.17
Further regulations are to be imposed on street traders operating in and
around Olympic venues.18 In particular, the regulations to be produced in
accordance with sections 25 and 26 LOGPA allow for the variation or suspen-
sion of current trading licences and their replacement with new licensing
regimes that are valid only for the Games period. This means that there is
no guarantee that a currently licensed trader will be granted the right to ply
their trade during perhaps the most lucrative period in their working life. This
sits uncomfortably with, and in stark contrast to, the regulations that grant
an exemption from income tax liabilities to accredited competitors, media
 Steve Greenfield, Mark James and Guy Osborn 309

workers, representatives of an Official Body, service technicians, team officials

and technical officials.19 In protecting the commercial rights associated with
the Olympic Games and the financial expectations of members of the Olympic
Movement, there appears to be a dislocation between the Fundamental
Principles of Olympism and the promotion of an inclusive festival of sport,
culture and education that is for the benefit of everyone.

The Olympic Charter

In contrast to the Olympic legislation, the Olympic Charter does not focus
exclusively on the protection of commercial and intellectual property rights
and brand management.20 The Olympic Charter acts as the founding con-
stitution of the Olympic Movement and serves as the statutes governing the
role and functions of the IOC. Essentially the Charter is the codification of
all the various rules, regulations and bye laws of the IOC. Rule 37(3) of the
Olympic Charter makes it clear that liability for the Games is jointly and
severally imposed on the host National Olympic Committee, the Organising
Committee and the host city; the IOC is expressly excluded from incurring any
liability.21 Further, Rule 37(2) indicates that non-compliance with not only the
Charter, but also instructions or regulations from the IOC, in addition to any
breach of the obligations that have been entered into by the National Olympic
Committee, the Organising Committee or the host city, permits withdrawal
from them of the games by the IOC with immediate effect and without com-
pensation. Concomitantly, the section does permit a compensation claim to be
made by the IOC against the other parties to the Host City Contract.
More importantly for the purposes of this discussion, the Olympic Charter
defines explicitly the Fundamental Principles of Olympism, which can be
described as the guiding ethos of the entire Olympic Movement. In particular,
Principle One requires ‘respect for universal fundamental ethical principles’
and Principle Two the promotion of ‘a peaceful society concerned with the
preservation of human dignity’. Despite the requirement that all members of
the Olympic Movement adhere to these Fundamental Principles, including the
Organising Committees of forthcoming editions of the Games, the Host City
Contract and the domestic legislation introduced in compliance with it give pri-
macy to the protection of the commercial rights associated with the Olympics.
The 2012 Candidature Questionnaire,22 which contained the questions to
which all Candidate Cities had to provide answers as part of the bid document,
set out the guarantees that must be provided to the IOC in order to secure the
right to host the Games of the 30th Olympiad. In Part 2 of the Questionnaire,
Themes 3 and 7, covering legal aspects and marketing respectively, required
guarantees that the word mark ‘[City] 2012’ (i.e., London 2012) is protected
within the host territory, that all necessary measures will be taken to protect the
310 The Olympics, the Law and the Contradictions of Olympism

Olympic marks and that legislation will be introduced to reduce and sanction
ambush marketing, eliminate street vending and control advertising space and
air space around Olympic venues and at designated airports during the period
of the Games. Conversely, Themes 1 and 17, covering the Olympic Games’
concept and legacy and Olympism and culture, require no corresponding legis-
lative or contractual guarantees. This leaves the Organising Committee free to
determine the actual importance of the Fundamental Principles of Olympism,
the underlying ethos of the Olympic Movement and the question of the legacy
of its edition of the Games once its candidature has been confirmed.
Thus, respect for universal fundamental ethical principles such as the right to
free speech and the preservation of human dignity appear to be secondary to
the protection of the commercial rights vested in the Olympic Games, the
exclusive agreements with the official Olympic Partners and the need to raise
such a huge amount of money to stage an edition of the Olympics. This appar-
ently intractable situation highlights the growing tension between the cultural
and commercial sides of hosting the Olympic Games.

Legislation – a tool for promoting Olympism?

We have outlined in the sections above the parameters and coverage of the
Olympic legislation and tried to place this within the broader context of the
Olympic Charter and, by association, the ethos and principles of the Olympic
Movement more generally. One of the key aspects of Olympic philosophy is
that it is a social philosophy embracing a number of issues including ‘[The]
role of sport in world development, international understanding, peaceful
co-existence, and social and moral education’.23 These are laudable aspirations
that tie in neatly with the broader societal values most commonly associ-
ated with sport, the importance of which has been stressed in the European
White Paper on Sport, with its focus on social inclusion and the value and
use of sport,24 and reinforced by the introduction of Article 165 Treaty on the
Functioning of the European Union, which enables the EU to coordinate sports
policy affecting these issues.
We have, however, noted above and argued previously, that the Olympic val-
ues have been changing and in fact the commercial has become more impor-
tant than the cultural or educational.25 Maguire et al. go further and talk of
this shift as being that of a ‘brand in motion’, and that global sport today can
be seen as but one facet of Western capitalism, dominated by consumerism,
notwithstanding any Olympic rhetoric of social good, and that:

[Exponents] of global mega-sport events, while claiming that they foster and
develop unity, friendship and cosmopolitan identities, are in fact increas-
ingly concerned more with our identities as consumers.26
 Steve Greenfield, Mark James and Guy Osborn 311

Thus, we are seeing a shift towards a more consumer-led and consumer-

oriented approach to the Olympics whereby the laws that are enacted, indeed
required, by the IOC only concentrate on protecting commercial rights, the
rights of sponsors and other stakeholders. The attachment to, and reinforce-
ment of, these elements of the Olympic Games are at the expense of what they
could have done. Given the rhetoric of Olympism and the ideas promulgated
in the Charter, the IOC could have insisted on a very different set of criteria
for host cities in terms of fulfilling their part of the Olympic bargain. This pos-
sibility is illustrated below by looking specifically at the issue of human rights
and discrimination.

The right to participate: human rights and discrimination

The Fundamental Principles of Olympism embrace participation in sport as a
human right and prohibit discrimination. These principles have the potential
to conflict at both a macro and micro level. As an example of the former,
Beijing won the right to host the 2008 Olympics in 2001 after one previously
unsuccessful bid. It was almost inevitable that China, as not only one of the
most heavily populated countries in the world but also one of the most success-
ful countries in terms of medals won, would host the Games at some point.27
Historically, it would have been difficult for China to be selected given its
specific political regime, but at the time of the bid China was rapidly chang-
ing. The shifts were transforming the country into an economic and political
superpower providing sporting and economic reasons to support the Beijing
bid for the 29th Olympiad. There was, however, disquiet in some quarters (see,
for example, the perspective of Amnesty International detailed below) that the
host country’s human rights record was incompatible with the Fundamental
Principles of Olympism, the Fourth of which states:

The practice of sport is a human right. Every individual must have the pos-
sibility of practising sport, without discrimination of any kind and in the
Olympic spirit, which requires mutual understanding with a spirit of friend-
ship, solidarity and fair play. The organisation, administration and manage-
ment of sport must be controlled by independent sports organisations.28

The Fifth Principle goes on to proclaim unequivocally that, ‘any form of dis-
crimination with regard to a country or person on grounds of race, religion,
politics, gender or otherwise is incompatible with belonging to the Olympic
Movement’. When examining the socio-political position in China at the time
of the bid, there were obvious areas of conflict with Olympism; China’s high
use of the death penalty was problematic,29 though this had not prevented
the Games from being hosted in California in 1984, South Korea in 1988
and Georgia in 1992, all of which all make significant use of this form of
312 The Olympics, the Law and the Contradictions of Olympism

punishment. Further, China’s general repression of human rights, including

the excessive use of police powers, silencing of dissidents and the state control
of the media,30 and particularly its program of state-sponsored censorship,
were causes of concern to human rights groups, as they had been prior to the
1980 Moscow Games. A year before the Opening Ceremony of the Beijing
Games, Amnesty International warned that, whilst some positive steps had
been taken to address some of these issues, there was still real concern about
what it termed ‘negative developments’; these included the continued use of
detention without trial and a crackdown on human rights activists.31 At the
same time, others saw that Beijing presented a real opportunity to encourage
a greater degree of adherence to a human rights agenda, and to international
human rights law, that had not been facilitated by other means:

The Olympic spirit is a powerful tool to inspire change and the 2008
Olympic Games will be a rare opportunity to see how sports can affect inter-
national human rights. The honor, pride and global spotlight of hosting the
Olympic Games has created an incentive for voluntary human rights reform
that has been unmotivated by other methods, such as sanctions, negotia-
tions or charters.32

Therefore sport, and specifically the opportunity to host the Games, is seen
as having the potential to act as a catalyst for improving human rights in the
host city/country. However, as Amnesty International noted in 2011, this has
manifestly not been the case in post-Beijing Games China:

In China, serious human rights violations continue to be committed. This

includes torture, execution (in which China is world leader), excessive use of
force in public order policing, repression of dissent and forced repatriation
of asylum seekers without recourse to a refugee determination procedure.33

Whilst certain temporary regulations, such as those dealing with press free-
dom, had been adopted before the Olympics, these expired after the Games,
notwithstanding the pressure being exerted on China to extend them to the
population as a whole on a permanent basis.34 Within this historical context,
perhaps we should be less surprised about the possible, and admittedly much
less serious, human rights implications of the London Olympic legislation. In
London, the desire is to protect the Olympic brand and the official partners’
exclusive rights to be associated with the Games, rather than to suppress the
population as a whole. Yet the restrictions that will be imposed on ‘non-
commercial advertising’ and street trading seem to be disproportionate and an
overreaction to the perceived need to protect the commercial interests of the
Olympic Movement.
 Steve Greenfield, Mark James and Guy Osborn 313

The development of the Paralympic Games demonstrates a clear commitment

to a wider definition of participation, and anti-discrimination, in keeping with
those Fundamental Principles of Olympism outlined above. Interestingly,
although the prohibition against discrimination in the Fifth Principle does
not mention disability specifically, the definition is broad enough to embrace
this idea and significant progress has been made. The Paralympic Games are
organised by the International Paralympic Committee (IPC),35 and since 1988
the Summer Paralympics have been held in the same city using the same
venues as the Olympic Games. This has promoted the principle of, ‘one bid
one city’ and has formalised the link between the two events. This in turn
has produced a significant increase in the profile of disabled sport in general
and the Paralympic Games in particular. This policy demonstrates clearly the
positive effect that winning the right to host the Olympic Games can have on
a disadvantaged group; however, this degree of proactivity on the part of the
Olympic Movement in requiring that the Fundamental Principles of Olympism
be promoted so explicitly is rare.

Conclusion

As is evidenced above, the only guarantees that are insisted upon by the IOC,
and that legislation is required for, are grounded in commercial considerations.
The IOC, if it were minded to, would be able to use its considerable leverage
and power to exact real concessions from the host nation or state. As Liu notes,
the Olympic Charter actually gives the IOC a mandate to procure change.36
Thus, the IOC could insist that host cities, and their state or national govern-
ments, address specific human rights issues as part of the Host City Contract,
for example, by insisting on freedom of the press or abolishing state censor-
ship. Instead, the impact of what the IOC does insist upon having guarantees
for, the protection of commercial and intellectual property rights, may actually
have an adverse impact on human rights. Certainly this seems at odds with the
Fundamental Principles of Olympism.
This returns us to the thorny problem of trying to unpack Olympism and the
‘Olympic values’. As Parry has noted, there are obvious differences of approach
between the Ancient and Modern Games, and the understanding and applica-
bility of Coubertin’s ideas (Parry himself cites ‘all sports for all people’ and ‘all
games, all nations’ as part of this) might not be easily adopted in contemporary
society. Indeed, these differences are inevitable as values are heavily dependent
on the particular spaces and eras in which they are developed:

Such differences are inevitable, over time and space. Social ideas, or ideas
inscribed in social practices, depend upon a specific social order or a particu-
lar set of social relationships for their full meaning to be exemplified.37
314 The Olympics, the Law and the Contradictions of Olympism

Similarly Milton-Smith talks of Olympic mythology distorting history and

contemporary reality and suggests that it is difficult to reconcile some of these
Olympic ideals with the implications of commercialisation and globalisation.
This point is reinforced by Lenskyj who notes that the Olympic Industry38
shapes Olympic ideologies though the mass media; ‘. . . pseudo-religious terms
like “Olympic movement” and “Olympic spirit” are carefully selected to evoke
feelings of universal excitement and belonging, while the less savoury profit
making motive is concealed.’39 Indeed, Parry suggests that Olympic ideas have
become ‘culturally relative and that therefore there could be no such thing as
a universal idea of Olympism’.40 What this suggests is that there will always
be different, and contested, interpretations of what Olympism means. Related
to this is the issue that the values held by the ‘Olympic apparatus’, by which
we mean the various bodies that make up, enforce and support the Olympic
agenda, or the Olympic Industry, will effectively dictate what contemporary
society sees as Olympian. As Milton-Smith put it when he made a strong argu-
ment for the IOC to be re-orientated:

As custodians of a great tradition, the Games’ organisers have a responsibil-

ity which goes far beyond the vetting of host city bids, the management of
symbols, the perpetuation of rituals and the conduct of ceremonies.41

We would go further here and argue that the cultural relativity that Parry
talks of ought to be re-oriented too and that the core values of the Olympic
Movement be reassessed. It may be the case that the Games, with strong lead-
ership, could become ‘a platform for promoting positive global values’ and
that the Olympics could be reclaimed as a visionary beacon for the sort of
educational and societal function originally envisaged, but to do such a thing
necessitates strong leadership, political will and a complete re-evaluation of
what, and who, the Games are for.

Notes
1. The DCMS document ‘Our Promise for 2012’ (2007) noted that ‘When London won
the bid for the 2012 Olympic Games and Paralympic Games, we promised to create
a sustainable legacy for London and the UK’. It went on to describe its mission as to
inspire people to get involved and to change people’s lives, looking particularly at
making the UK a world-class sporting nation, transforming East London, inspiring
young people to take part in local volunteering and cultural and physical activity
and making the Olympic Park a blueprint for sustainable living.
2. There are many ways in which this is manifested; MacAloon, in ‘Olympic Games and
the Theory of Spectacle in Modern Societies’ noted, for example, that at the Montreal
Games one out of every three persons then alive on earth watched or heard part of the
proceedings, whilst Miah and Garcia in ‘The Olympic Games: Imagining a New Media
Legacy’ note that total aggregate audiences are said to reach 4.7 billion viewers.
 Steve Greenfield, Mark James and Guy Osborn 315

3. London Assembly, Towards a Lasting Legacy. A 2012 Olympic and Paralympic Games
Update, 7.
4. Mayor of London, A Sporting Future for London, April 2009.
5. London Assembly, Towards a Lasting Legacy, 6.
6. See here www.london2012.com/making-it-happen/legacy-after-the-games/ and www.
legacycompany.co.uk/ (accessed 2 February 2011).
7. A series of legal challenges to the Olympic Park Legacy Company’s decision to choose
West Ham United Football Club as the preferred purchaser of the Olympic Stadium
has resulted in the decision to abandon its sale for the time being. It is planned that
a sporting tenant will be appointed during 2012.
8. For example, water sports events will take place at Weymouth, Lee Valley and Eton
Dorney, and football in Cardiff, Coventry, Glasgow, Manchester and Newcastle.
9. See, for example, Michalos, ‘Five Golden Rings: Development of the Protection of
the Olympic Insignia’.
10. The use of the Olympic symbol and motto are protected by section 3 OSPA 1995 and
the use of the associated words by section 18.
11. The BOA is responsible for ‘Team GB’, that is, the Olympic Team representing Great
Britain and Northern Ireland rather than the UK. The Olympic Council of Ireland
(OCI) represents the whole of Ireland according to the IOC Charter. This political
conundrum is partially solved by permitting athletes born in Northern Ireland to
represent either Team.
12. Olympic and Paralympic Association Rights (Appointment of Proprietors) Order
2006/1119.
13. Section 7 LOGPA 2006.
14. For more on the common law tort of passing off see, for example, Deakin et al.,
Markesinis and Deakin’s Tort Law.
15. There is a mass of literature on ambush marketing. A useful place to start, although
slightly dated now, is Hoek and Glendall, ‘Ambush Marketing: More than Just
Commercial Irritant’, 72, or, more recently, see James and Osborn, ‘London 2012 and
the Impact of the UK’s Olympic and Paralympic Legislation: Protecting Commerce or
Preserving Culture?’.
16. See, for example, the requirements placed on the Ricoh Arena and the O2, which
for the period of the Games will be the City of Coventry Stadium and the North
Greenwich Arena respectively.
17. Section 23 LOGPA 2006.
18. The London Olympic Games and Paralympic Games (Advertising and Trading)
Regulations 2011.
19. London Olympic Games and Paralympic Games Tax Regulations 2010/2013. Official
Body is defined as: a Sovereign, a Head of State, a Government, a National Olympic
Committee, a National Paralympic Committee, a city that has been selected by the
IOC or IPC to host a future Olympics and Paralympics or Youth Olympics, a city that
has been selected by the IOC or IPC to be a candidate to host a future Olympics and
Paralympics or Youth Olympics, a city that the IOC or IPC recognises as an applicant
to host a future Olympics and Paralympics or Youth Olympics, the IOC, the IPC, an
IF, an IPSF, CAS or WADA. In other words, almost anyone with any connection to the
Games, the competing teams or the Olympic Movement apart from the spectators.
20. See www.olympic.org/Documents/Olympic%20Charter/Charter_en_2010.pdf, though
Rules 7–14 of the Charter do discuss the rights pertaining to the Olympic Symbols;
date last accessed 9 February 2011.
21. Rule37(1) Olympic Charter states: ‘The IOC shall have no financial responsibility
whatsoever in respect of the organisation and staging of the Olympic Games.’ Ibid.
316 The Olympics, the Law and the Contradictions of Olympism

22. See http://multimedia.olympic.org/pdf/en_report_810.pdf, date last accessed 9

February 2011.
23. See Parry, ‘Olympism in the 21st Century’.
24. See European Commission, White Paper on Sport, 391.
25. See James and Osborn, ‘London 2012 and the Impact of the UK’s Olympic and
Paralympic Legislation’, n15 and further, ‘Consuming the Olympics: the Fan, the
Rights Holder and the Law’.
26. Maguire et al., ‘“Celebrate Humanity” or “Consumers”? A Critical Evaluation of a
Brand in Motion’.
27. See Toohey and Veal, The Olympic Games: A Social Science Perspective, 255.
28. Ibid., n20.
29. See, for example, Lu and Zhang, ‘Death Penalty in China: The Law and the Practice’.
30. See, generally, Lenskyj, ‘The Olympic Industry and Civil Liberties: The Threat to
Free Speech and Freedom of Assembly’ (2004). Whilst this focuses on Games before
Beijing, the point is forcefully made that threats to civil liberties are commonplace.
31. See Amnesty International, ‘People’s Republic of China. The Olympics countdown –
one year left to fulfil human rights promises’, AI Index ASA 17/024/2007 available
online at: www.amnesty.org/en/library/info/ASA17/024/2007, date last accessed 25
September 2011.
32. Liu, ‘Lighting the Torch of Human Rights: the Olympic Games as a Vehicle for
Human Rights Reform’.
33. See www.amnesty.org.uk/content.asp?CategoryID=10498 (last accessed 8 February
2011).
34. See Human Rights Watch, ‘China: Olympics-Related Media Freedoms Should Not
Expire’ (2008) available at: http://china.hrw.org/press/news_release/china_olympics_
related_media_freedoms_should_not_expire (last accessed 8 February 2011).
35. ‘The IPC is committed to enabling Paralympic athletes to achieve sporting excellence
and to developing sport opportunities for all persons with a disability from the begin-
ner to elite level. In addition, the IPC aims to promote the Paralympic values, which
include courage, determination, inspiration and equality.’ At: www.paralympic.
org/IPC/ (last accessed 15 February 2011).
36. See Liu, ‘Lighting the Torch of Human Rights’, n32.
37. Parry, ‘Olympism in the 21st Century’, n23.
38. Lenskyj uses the term to emphasise the point that the IOC, the national bodies and
the corporate sponsors have one key motive – profit; ‘The Olympic Industry and
Civil Liberties’, n30.
39. Ibid, 383.
40. Parry, ‘Olympism in the 21st Century’, n24.
41. Milton-Smith, ‘Ethics, the Olympics and the Search for Global Values’, 135.

References
DCMS (Department of Culture Media and Sport) (2007) ‘Our Promise for 2012’ (London:
DCMS).
Deakin, S., A. Johnston and B. Markesinis (2007) Markesinis and Deakin’s Tort Law
(Oxford: Oxford University Press).
European Commission (2007) White Paper on Sport (COM 2007), 11 July.
Hoek, J. and P. Glendall (2000) ‘Ambush Marketing: More Than Just a Commercial
Irritant’, Entertainment Law, 1.2, 72–91.
 Steve Greenfield, Mark James and Guy Osborn 317

James, M. and G. Osborn (2010) ‘Consuming the Olympics: The Fan, the Rights Holder
and the Law’, Sport and Society: The Summer Olympics through the Lens of Social Science
(London: British Library), at: www.bl.uk/sportandsociety/exploresocsci/parlaw/law/
articles/consuming.pdf (accessed 25 September 2011).
James, M. and G. Osborn (2011) ‘London 2012 and the Impact of the UK’s Olympic and
Paralympic Legislation: Protecting Commerce or Preserving Culture?’, Modern Law
Review, 74.3, 410–429.
Lenskyj, H. J. (2004) ‘The Olympic Industry and Civil Liberties: The Threat to Free Speech
and Freedom of Assembly’, Sport in Society, 7.3, 370–384.
Liu, J. (2007) ‘Lighting the Torch of Human Rights: The Olympic Games as a Vehicle for
Human Rights Reform’, Northwestern University Journal of International Human Rights,
5.2, 213–235.
London Assembly (2009) Towards a Lasting Legacy. A 2012 Olympic and Paralympic Games
Update, July.
Lu, H. and L. Zhang (2005) ‘Death Penalty in China: The Law and the Practice’, Journal
of Criminal Justice, 67, 367–376.
MacAloon, J. (1984) ‘Olympic Games and the Theory of Spectacle in Modern Societies’
in J. MacAloon (ed.), Rite, Drama, Festival, Spectacle. Towards a Theory of Cultural
Performance (Philadelphia: ISHI), 241–280.
Maguire, J., S. Barnard, K. Butler and P. Golding, ‘”Celebrate Humanity” or “Consumers”?
A Critical Evaluation of a Brand in Motion’, in V. Girginov (ed.), The Olympics. A Critical
Reader (London: Routledge, 2010).
Mayor of London (2009) A Sporting Future for London, April.
Miah, A. and B. Garcia (2010) ‘The Olympic Games: Imagining a New Media Legacy’,
British Academy Review, 15, 37.
Michalos, C. (2006) ‘Five Golden Rings: Development of the Protection of the Olympic
Insignia’ International Sports Law Review, 3, 64–76.
Milton-Smith, J. (2002) ‘Ethics, the Olympics and the Search for Global Values’ Journal of
Business Ethics, 35.2, 131–142.
Parry, J. (2003) ‘Olympism in the 21st Century’, in D. Macura and M. Hosta (eds),
Philosophy of Sport (Ljubljana: University of Ljubljana), 93–98.
Toohey, K. and A. Veal (2007) The Olympic Games: A Social Science Perspective, 2nd edition
(Oxford: CABI).
Part IV
The Olympics: Social and
Political Issues
20
Tilting at Windmills? Olympic Politics
and the Spectre of Amateurism
Stephen Wagg

The word ‘amateur’ – as has been acknowledged only intermittently during its
comparatively brief history – refers simply to someone who does something for
the love of it. The notion of the ‘amateur’ has always been central to Olympic
history and to the philosophy of Olympism, even though the administrative
application of the word was debated within the Olympic movement for much
of the 20th century and Olympism itself was continually redefined in the
process. The formal pursuit of amateurism was effectively abandoned by the
International Olympic Committee in the 1980s but amateurism remains, as an
indispensable myth, at the heart of the Olympic project. This chapter considers
the progress of this myth historically in relation to Olympic politics.

The invention of amateurism

Much of the last 75 years of the political history of the modern Olympic
movement has entailed a dialogue with the ghost of the movement’s chief
founder, Baron Pierre de Coubertin: policies and arguments have frequently
been advanced on the grounds that were essential to, or consistent with, his
original vision. In turn Coubertin himself sought sanction for his own policies
by invoking the sporting philosophy of the ancient Greeks, whose Olympic
Games he worked to revive in the 1890s. The baron’s assumptions as to the
nature of the ancient Olympics are now widely accepted to have been mis-
taken1 and one of the most important misconceptions propounded historically
by the IOC was that the ancient Greeks espoused some ‘amateur’ philosophy of
sport for pleasure and for its own sake. As the American writer Eugene Glader
showed in the late 1970s, no distinction was made in ancient Greece between
amateur and professional sportspeople and no restriction was placed upon pos-
sible rewards for athletes2 – although these notions have been central political
issues for most of the modern Olympic era. Indeed, the idea of the ‘amateur’,

321
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
322 Tilting at Windmills? Olympic Politics and the Spectre of Amateurism

a word which had been used to refer to ‘a connoisseur of the fine arts in
seventeenth century France’,3 was not related to sport until the 19th century.
Amateurism may be seen as a direct consequence of the rise of modern
sport. Modern sport, with its inherent notions of competition, winners and
losers, by definition threatened the hereditary ethos of the European aristoc-
racy. Amateurism seems to have taken hold most forcibly among upper-class
English gentlemen who developed it as a pretext primarily for playing sport
only with persons of their own social status and purported philosophy and for
administering sport on terms dictated by themselves. They held that profes-
sional sportspeople, since they played for financial reward, could not play or
value sport for its intrinsic benefits; they competed with a hardness of the heart
and were liable, through striving unduly to win, to engage in foul play. There
were sports, notably cricket, where amateurs and professionals played in the
same teams, although they changed in different facilities, but, generally speak-
ing, amateurs sought to be alone, in some cases using specifically social-class
criteria to achieve this: the Henley Royal Regatta, for example, in 1879 barred
anyone ‘who is or has been by trade or employment for wages, a mechanic,
artisan or labourer’. These entry criteria for Henley were later augmented to
exclude anyone employed to perform ‘menial duties’. They were adopted by
the Amateur Rowing Association in 1886 and their severity was such that a
separate association for humbler-born amateur rowers – the National Amateur
Rowing Association – formed in 1890. Coubertin visited the Henley Regatta
in 1888 and it was intended that rowing, along with a range of sports then
favoured by the well-to-do and the elite colleges in Europe and America, should
be in the programme for the modern Olympics.4
The importance of Henley amateurism in the launch of the modern
Olympics is acknowledged in the IOC’s official history. The revived Olympics,
and Coubertin’s wider project of promoting a clean-limbed, athletics-based
internationalism, could not prosper without the cooperation of the upper mid-
dle classes of the European and American empires. Within this social stratum
the British had a clear pre-eminence, having apparently pioneered modern
sport in the English public schools and led the way in the development of
international sport competition. No international tournament would be cred-
ible without their full participation. It was also intended that the International
Olympic Games Committee, which became the IOC in 1897, should be self-
recruiting on the British aristocratic model – Henley and the British Amateur
Athletic Association (AAA, founded in 1880) being leading examples.5 The
first 13 members of the International Committee for the Olympic Games are
described as having been drawn from ‘the leisured classes’.6 Indeed, the classi-
cist and Olympic historian David C. Young has suggested that delegates to the
Congress of 1894 that framed the first Games were under the initial impres-
sion that they were convening to discuss amateurism rather than the Games
 Stephen Wagg 323

themselves.7 Nor was preoccupation with amateurism confined to Britain or

even to Europe. Paradoxically it thrived in the United States, a society ostensi-
bly proud of its egalitarian foundations. As the historian S. W. Pope has shown,
an amateur ethic, substantially as exclusive as the British version, flourished
in private sports clubs and elite intercollegiate athletics in America from the
1870s8 and had influential evangelists, albeit from outside the leisured classes,
in the public prints and in sports administration. For example, the journalist
Caspar Whitney, a friend of and fellow imperialist to President Theodore
Roosevelt, welcomed the first modern Olympics as having been ‘conceived
in the spirit of furthering healthful athletic competition, and of drawing the
sportsmen of all countries together in the protection of the amateur’.9 The
Irish-American sports goods magnate, James E. Sullivan, the founder and first
secretary of the American Athletic Union, was a leading figure in the early
American Olympic movement and is described as the ‘chief power broker of
American amateurism’, although, unlike Whitney and the status-conscious
rowers of Henley-on-Thames, his amateur project was not class-specific.10 Pope,
in any event, asserts that this amateurism should not be taken at face value, cit-
ing a widespread tendency among America’s Olympians ‘to claim amateurism
to the world while, in fact, accepting professionalism’.11
The first decades of the modern Olympics saw the steady crystallisation of
amateurism as a political issue for the IOC. The nascent Olympic movement
found itself in ongoing dialogue with existing British prescriptions and the
successive positions espoused by Coubertin during its first decade reflected this.
Having informed the Olympic Congress of 1894 in Paris of the necessity for
French athletics ‘to remain free of all impurities’ – ‘purity’ here being a customary
signifier of amateurism12 – he later expressed impatience with continued revisita-
tion of the matter. The Paris Congress rejected the socially restrictive definition of
amateurism laid down by Britain’s Amateur Rowing Association but, according to
the IOC’s official history, the Amateurism Charter that it did approve

more than favoured the well-to-do classes [and] locked the IOC into a tight
network of prohibitions. Leaving aside that sports were now open to workers
and no longer confined to persons of independent means, the Olympic
movement tended to conform with the British caste system. Thus an
‘amateur’ was defined as a person who had not taken part in a competition
open ‘to all comers, who had not accepted a cash prize or a sum of money,
who had not competed with a professional athlete, and who did not receive
a salary as a sports instructor or coach’.13

This definition was substantially that of the English AAA. In 1902 Coubertin
issued a questionnaire on amateurism to all Olympic associations; it received
little response. A further questionnaire, discussed two years later in Berlin,
324 Tilting at Windmills? Olympic Politics and the Spectre of Amateurism

came to nothing and in 1906 Coubertin called for a ‘more intelligent, wider
and more precise’ definition of the amateur Olympian and began pressing for
the matter to be resolved by the swearing of an oath by competitors.14
There are several possible reasons for these difficulties. First, criteria of exclu-
sivity such as those applied by the Henley Regatta and similar bodies were not
to be taken literally: more likely, as I have argued elsewhere, they simply pro-
vided a pretext for the exclusion of unwanted competitors, so that an offence
against the amateur code might only be deemed to be such when it was com-
mitted by a person pre-defined as a socially undesirable. Conversely amateur
virtues were only likely to be recognised in people pre-defined as amateurs.15
Hypocrisy and amateur codes went hand in hand and, since these codes were
specific to particular nations, social classes and sports, a huge difficulty faced
anybody trying to condense them into a single code – as the IOC, by defini-
tion, was attempting to do. Second, some sports posed particular difficulties
in relation to class. Equestrian events, for instance, were likely to feature a
number of cavalry officers, making any straightforward exclusion of serving
soldiers – army fitness instructors, for example, were ordinarily seen as non-
amateurs – impossible. This in large part explains why, in the early modern
Olympic period, an amateur for each sport was defined by the international
federation for that sport. Thirdly, there was the inevitable allowance for local
custom and practice. For example, Spyridon ‘Spyros’ Louis, the first winner
of the modern Olympic marathon in 1896, was paid 25,000 drachmas by the
Greek government and showered with gifts of all kinds by admirers,16 some-
thing that would certainly have brought him disqualification in a later era.
Fourth, in some sports, no great importance was attached to amateur status
at the early Games: professional fencers took part in the Games of 1896 and
1900 and paid American cyclists won medals at St Louis in 1904.17 It is said
that, around this time, Coubertin was comparatively unconcerned about ama-
teurism, although he perceived ‘the great majority of sportsmen as well as the
general public felt strongly about the question’.18

Olympic amateurism after 1908: ‘race’, class and nation

British and American interests conspired to reassert the importance of ama-

teurism around the time of the fourth modern Olympics in London in 1908.
The Olympics of 1900 in Paris and 1904 in St Louis had been little more than
adjuncts to larger exhibitions. The tournament of 1908, while it too was
associated with an exhibition (the Franco-British Exhibition), was more credible
as an athletic contest, partly because it attracted a greater international mix
of competitors than had come to St Louis (see Lunt and Dyreson, Chapter 3
in this book). Originally scheduled for Italy, the Olympics of 1908 appear to
have sharpened the politics of Olympic amateurism in two, interrelated ways.
 Stephen Wagg 325

First, stewardship of the Olympics and, incidentally, the task of establishing

them on a firmer footing, now fell to the most uncompromising exponents
of exclusive amateurism – men who believed that their breeding gave them a
virtual monopoly on fair play. The tournament was timed so as not to coincide
with the Henley Regatta or the AAA championships and the British Olympic
Committee was chaired by Lord Desborough, a former Conservative MP steeped
in the upper class amateur ethos: he was President of the Amateur Fencing
Association, the Lawn Tennis Association, and the Marylebone Cricket Club
and a former President of the Oxford University Boat Club, all institutions
at the political centre of British high amateurism. The Games observed the
prevailing British definition of the amateur, which entailed the exclusion of
‘those taking part in competitions open to all comers’ – a clear signifier of social
class19. The second factor was the growing convergence in the United States of
a home-grown amateurism and a fervent American nationalism, already much
in evidence in the Games of 1904; this nationalism clashed with the more patri-
cian amateurism of the British organisers. The Games of 1908 are remembered
for their controversies. The scheduled golf event was cancelled, the organisers
having devised an overly ambitious timetable and, more importantly, failed to
reach agreement over eligibility with the Royal and Ancient Club, another bas-
tion of British amateurism and the de facto governing body of the sport.20 This
was the first Games where competitors were entered officially as representatives
of their respective nations and James Sullivan, who took charge of the American
team, was keen to maintain the dominance in track and field that US athletes
had established in Paris in 1900. Officials ordered a re-run of the 400 metres race
when the Scottish runner Wyndham Halswelle, an old boy of Charterhouse,
one of England’s most prestigious public schools, and a lieutenant in the British
army, was apparently baulked by the American Cornell University student John
Carpenter. Sullivan complained vehemently and the US runners refused to run
again – Halswelle ran the rearranged race on his own. The incident pointed up
the differences between the amateur philosophies of the British and US elites
and their respective notions of fair play: blocking was allowed in the United
States but the race had, of course, been run according to British rules.21
Another incident, equal in its significance for the politics of Olympic
amateurism, concerned the Canadian marathon runner, Tom Longboat. Sullivan
demanded that Longboat be disqualified on the ground that he was thought in
the past to have been paid to race, although it has been suggested that the grounds
for this demand could have been applied similarly to the American team.22 This
issue was deceptively complex and was rooted in social class and ‘race’ as much
as in national rivalry. There were at the time two bodies contending to run
Canadian athletics: the one in the ascendancy supported Longboat, the other
sided with Sullivan. This suggested an ongoing battle, surely not confined to
Canada, to establish national control of sports for self-proclaimed amateurs bent
326 Tilting at Windmills? Olympic Politics and the Spectre of Amateurism

on policing the boundaries of eligibility in this regard. Longboat, moreover, was

an Iroquois Indian who, in an age of racist theorising and explicitly racialised
public vocabulary, surely stood beyond these baleful boundaries.23
Not surprisingly the movement’s official history records that ‘the problem
of amateurism was back in force’ at the IOC Congress in Berlin the follow-
ing year24 but essentially the same definition of the amateur governed the
next Olympics, in Stockholm in 1912. This tournament threw up what is
arguably the most notable incident in the history of Olympic wrangling over
amateurism – the disqualification of the American athlete Jim Thorpe. Thorpe,
another Native North American, had won two gold medals in Stockholm and
was widely admired; he was reported to the US national Olympic committee
(NOC) for receiving money, a few years previously, for playing summer base-
ball. This practice was common among American college athletes and didn’t
normally disqualify them from competing in amateur events. Thorpe, how-
ever, was denounced by the American NOC and stripped of his medals. Some
commentators blamed Thorpe’s ‘race’ for this ‘transgression’ – gentler-born
white athletes, it was surmised, would have known better. Pope has argued
that concern for the international sporting reputation of the United States
inspired the punishment of Jim Thorpe – British officials are known to have
grumbled about ‘negroes and Indians’ in the American team at Stockholm.25
Significantly, the complaint against Thorpe was made within his own camp:
it is believed to have been lodged by Avery Brundage, a teammate of Thorpe’s
in Stockholm.26 Brundage was to loom large in the Olympic movement in the
middle of the 20th century (he was IOC Vice President from 1942 to 1952 and
President from 1952 to 1972) and during this time became the acknowledged
high priest of a continuing inquisition over amateurism.

Tilting at windmills? Olympic amateurism in the age of

mass sport

For roughly a 50-year period – from the early 1920s to the beginning of the
1970s – amateurism frequently occupied centre stage in the politics of the
Olympic movement. There were repeated re-definitions of amateurism for
Olympic purposes and each new rendering of this always-elusive notion was
conspicuously policed. This policing is often ascribed by historians to the
zealotry of a single administrator – Brundage – but one man cannot shape 50
years’ of politicking on his own, nor, to paraphrase Marx, can he act outside of
the circumstances presented to him by history. This section attempts a more
rounded political explanation of what might be called Brundage’s amateur
crusade than has generally been available.
In 1925 the IOC met in Prague to consider 15 questions on amateurism posed
to it by its own Executive Committee. It was resolved, among other things, that
 Stephen Wagg 327

an amateur ‘should be understood as one who derives no appreciable material

benefit (from sport) and is prepared to make a statement to that effect in writing
upon his honour’.27 Two things are important to note in relation to the Prague
deliberations: one is that the question of ‘material benefit’ – effectively a reit-
eration of previous positions – remained a principal bone of contention for the
next 50 or more years of Olympic politics, and the other is that responsibility
for judging who was, or was not, an amateur still rested with the international
federations of each sport.28 Two disputes illustrate the difficulties that could
arise in this context. The International Lawn Tennis Federation, peopled, like
all such bodies, by men of high social status, found the IOC’s Prague definition
of amateurism ‘more severe’ than its own and withdrew from the Olympics.29
Conversely, FIFA, the world governing body of association football, by now a
predominantly working-class game, informed the IOC that many players would
have to be compensated for loss of earnings in order to travel to the forthcom-
ing Olympics in Amsterdam in 1928. The IOC, mindful that football was vital
to the continued popularity and financial viability of the Olympics and wor-
ried that FIFA would secede and organise its own tournament (FIFA’s World
Cup was, in any event, inaugurated in 1930), agreed to what were then called
‘broken time’ payments. These were to be made directly to the employers of the
players concerned, but the British NOC was outraged and the British football
associations withdrew from FIFA in protest.30 Social class, therefore, continued
to define amateurism. At the time, the IOC would, generally speaking, coun-
tenance only paid holiday for competitors and not reimbursement for loss of
earnings – but paid holiday for working-class people was virtually unknown in
the 1920s. As Glader points out, with unconcealed irony, competitors continu-
ing to receive salaries were deemed amateurs, while those docked wages, but
compensated by third parties, were regarded as professionals.31
During the 1930s, interest in high-performance sport grew, international
sporting encounters flourished and sport became increasingly commercialised.
The first physical education colleges were founded and sport and exercise
began to be taught in schools across the industrialised world. The Olympic
movement, however, now seemed to travel rapidly in the opposite political
direction, apparently retrenching in their defence of amateurism and continu-
ing to mete out punishment to individuals and organisations that breached
the amateur definition of the day. For example, in 1932, the Finnish athlete
Paavo Nurmi, holder of nine Olympic gold medals, was banned for life by the
International Amateur Athletics Federation and thus barred from the Games
of that year in Los Angeles for claiming excessive travel expenses. The fol-
lowing year the IOC decreed that Olympic competitors could no longer make
claims over travel costs, that they must only travel abroad to sports events for
a maximum of 21 days in the year and that they must never compete with
professionals unless it was for charitable and/or patriotic purposes or had the
328 Tilting at Windmills? Olympic Politics and the Spectre of Amateurism

sanction of their national federation. In 1935 ski instructors were deemed not
to be amateurs (the Winter Olympics had been inaugurated in 1924) and in
1936 there were ruminations about PE teachers and professional sports writers
being similarly ineligible. In 1938, there was a repudiation of ‘state amateurs’
and state exploitation of sport for nationalist propaganda. The issue of reim-
bursement rumbled on.32
A prominent figure in these no-nonsense reassertions of the amateur ideal
was Avery Brundage. In 1928 Brundage, a wealthy man via his own construc-
tion business, had become president of both the American Athletic Union and
its Olympic arm, the American Olympic Association (AOA), the forerunner
of the United States Olympic Committee (USOC). Soon after assuming the
presidency of the AAU Brundage had become involved in a protracted dispute
over the governance of ice hockey. In 1930 the AAU had become a member
of the Ligue Internationale de Hockey sur Glace (LIHG), the sport’s governing
body, whereupon Brundage expelled a number of rink teams, claiming them
to be professional. These teams formed their own organisation – the American
Hockey Association – and applied to join the LIHG. This was refused but the
AHA garnered support elsewhere in the ice hockey world. The controversy
dragged on for the best part of two decades and resulted in two rival US ice
hockey teams showing up for the Winter Olympics at St Moritz in 1948.
Brundage tried to prevent the AHA team participating and received a hostile
press in Switzerland, ice hockey being the most popular and lucrative event
in the Winter Olympics. A compromise was reached at the eleventh hour33.
In 1950 two Norwegian members of the IOC proposed that the definition of
the amateur should be left to the international federations concerned; the sug-
gestion was firmly rejected by Brundage, who called it a ‘deadly threat’ to an
Olympic movement which had now ‘spread to every quarter of the globe’.34 As
his biographer pointed out, Brundage spent 50 years attacking ‘sub-rosa cash
payments, valuable gifts, income derived indirectly from athletic fame (such
as money received from ghost-written books), the establishment of special
training camps, the combination of vocation and avocation in the role of the
coach-athlete, athletic scholarships and payments for “broken time”. . .’ and
would scour the international press for evidence of these transgressions.35 He
challenged the amateur status of the Italian cyclist Ercole Baldini, a gold medal
winner at the Melbourne Olympics of 1956,36 and had the Austrian skier Karl
Schranz disqualified at the Winter Games of 1972 (in the Japanese city of
Sapporo) after he had been photographed at a football match wearing a T-shirt
with a coffee advertisement printed on it;37 Brundage, besides this, fought a
running and very public battle with the governing body of skiing over the
visibility of makers’ logos on ski equipment.38 After the Olympic Games in
Mexico City in 1968, Brundage was asked whether, given the recent decision
 Stephen Wagg 329

by the International Tennis Federation to allow amateur and professional

tennis players to compete against each other, ‘such a thing might happen in
the Olympics’. (The question was understandable, given that tennis had been
staged as a ‘demonstration sport’ in the Mexico Games.) He replied: ‘Not a
chance. Never. The Games are solely for those who play for fun, recreation and
the thrill of victory, and not for those who play for money’.39
Much has been made of Brundage’s seemingly anachronistic amateur phi-
losophy40 and Brundage himself liked to encourage the view that he was
unable to ‘extirpate the deeper roots of professionalisation’ – he could only
‘hack away at the branches’; he was like Don Quixote, tilting at windmills,
and so on.41 But, as I argued earlier, the fierce prosecution of the amateur
cause cannot be reduced to Brundage’s personal eccentricities alone. During
the mid-20th century, as the official IOC history acknowledges, ‘the amateur
principle’ took on a ‘quasi-independent character as the leitmotiv of the
Olympic movement’.42 Nobody is likely to have appreciated this better than
Brundage, and an apparently inflexible amateurism served him politically
in several, interrelated ways. First, it kept Olympic leadership in the hands
of its historic, self-recruiting elite – him and people like him – and out of
the hands of the promoters and other entrepreneurs now clustering around
high-performance sport. Second, amateurism defined what would nowadays
be called ‘the Olympic brand’, setting it apart from other sports events and,
with the aid of a compulsive misreading of Greek sport history, rooting it
in ancient myth and raising it above ‘politics’. (Misrepresenting the Greeks
had by Brundage’s time become part of the modern Olympic tradition and,
besides, the history of sport is full of such creation myths.43) This, thirdly,
helped to facilitate the growth of the Olympic movement – Brundage’s prin-
cipal aim – and establish it, as he himself boasted, in ‘every quarter of the
globe’. The sound and fury which Brundage and the IOC frequently conjured
around the evasive notion of the amateur helped, paradoxically, to reconcile
Olympic ideology with real world practice and political pragmatism. After all,
one of the surest ways of asserting the existence of a rule is to punish some-
one very conspicuously for breaking it. It’s noticeable in this regard that the
IOC often made its loudest proclamations of exclusiveness at the times of its
most inclusive compromises. For instance, the IOC Congress in Cairo in 1938,
which deplored state exploitation of sport for nationalist propaganda, did
so only two years after the IOC had presided over a Berlin Olympics openly
staged by the German National Socialist government.44 Moreover, whereas
the IOC had always insisted that NOCs be independent of government and
had frequently condemned the ‘state amateurs’ of communist countries who
practised their sport while enjoying sinecures in the armed forces, in 1951
the IOC nevertheless admitted the Soviet Union to the Olympic family.
330 Tilting at Windmills? Olympic Politics and the Spectre of Amateurism

Brundage voted for their admission and IOC emissary the Marquess of Exeter
confirmed that the USSR would accept the rules on amateurism laid down by
the International Amateur Athletics Federation.45 In 1963 Brundage went on
to condemn athletic scholarships, in the full knowledge that, in the United
States, such scholarships were the bedrock of the nation’s Olympic prepa-
ration46 in the burgeoning Cold War tussle for medals and national pride
with the Soviet Union. Generally speaking, on the question of amateurism,
a public condemnation of some infraction by the IOC during this period was
a reliable indication of their tacit acceptance of it.

Conclusion: amateurism in the theatre of Olympic memory

In the years that had followed the Second World War, the Olympic move-
ment’s growing media interest had enabled the IOC to deepen its mystique
and widen its audience. This began in a small, but significant, way with
the London Olympics of 1948. These Games, staged amid post-war auster-
ity, banished memories of the overtly politicised spectacle of Berlin in 1936
and brought the Olympics seemingly closer than at any time previously to
the realisation of the IOC‘s historic ideal of a democratised amateurism.
The modest facilities lent the proceedings an aura of classlessness, although
lower-class athletes still faced policing and punishment. The amateur status
of the Swedish runner Thore Sjostrand, winner of the 3000 metres steeple-
chase and a photographer by profession, was challenged when he was found
to have accepted 100 kronor (about £7) for winning a race in Sweden. Alan
Geldard, a British cyclist and bronze medallist in the team pursuit event, who
worked as a commercial artist, was sacked for taking time off work to compete
in the Games.47 But the European sports press alighted on the figure of Fanny
Blankers-Koen, a prodigious Dutch athlete, then 30 and the mother of two
children, who was immediately dubbed ‘The Flying Housewife’.48 Blankers-
Koen, who won four gold medals at the Games, represented precisely the
symbolic bridge between athletic endeavour and ordinary life that Brundage
and, for that matter, all previous IOC presidents, had placed at the heart of
their regular forays on amateurism. The ensuing Olympics of the 1950s and
1960s found the world’s sport media in constant celebration of the Girls-(and
Boys-) Next-Door who stepped briefly out of an everyday existence and onto
the Olympic stage.49 Many competitors, especially those on lower incomes,
decided to turn professional. At the time of the 1956 Olympics in Melbourne
the IOC therefore sought to encompass the intention to remain amateur
in the Olympic oath and the following year issued a set of renewed prohi-
bitions that competitors must observe in order to stay amateur: they must
not, among other things, ‘capitalise on their fame by profiting commercially
 Stephen Wagg 331

therefrom’, must not have decided to turn professional, must not participate
in advertisements or receive money for appearances on television or radio.50
Athletes continued to be censured: for instance, Dorothy Hyman, a miner’s
daughter from Britain’s south Yorkshire coalfield who worked full-time for
the National Coal Board, was banned for life by the International Amateur
Athletics Federation for publishing her (ghosted) autobiography in 1964,51
the year she had returned from the Tokyo Olympics with a bronze medal.
Hyman had split the fee of £300 50-50 with the writer concerned.52 Now the
IOC stance on amateurism began to verge on unviability. For one thing, the
IOC was itself now receiving lucrative television fees, the Rome Games of
1960 having been the first to be seen widely across the world, and needed to
cooperate with the broadcast media. The public shaming and disqualification
of popular figures, restricting media access to the competitors and making
them swear oaths never to turn professional ran counter to this, especially
when one considered that the American TV networks, a vital market, were
fully commercialised. Training and preparation for the Olympics were becom-
ing lengthier and more expensive, both for the athletes and the organisers.
Recognition of all this provoked a protracted withdrawal by the IOC from its
defence of amateurism.
This began in 1968 with the establishment within the IOC of an ‘Eligibility
Commission’ and increased talk of the need to attract top athletes to the
Olympics.53 The head of this eligibility commission, Alexandru Siperco of
Romania, announced that ‘Olympic level performances cannot be anymore
realised by practising sport as a game, or only for relaxation’ and there were
now frequent suggestions that the existing system favoured the communist
nations54. In 1973, following Brundage’s retirement, the IOC, now under the
presidency of the milder-mannered Lord Killanin, removed the word ‘amateur’
from the Olympic Charter. The 1970s saw a progressive relaxation of IOC
positions on broken-time payments and the duration of training and, in 1976,
there were no allegations of professionalism either at the Summer Olympics
in Montreal or the Winter Games in Innsbruck.55 In 1981 the International
Amateur Athletics Federation permitted the establishment of trust funds
so that fees earned by athletes could be held in trust for them until their
retirement; this, of course, made them no more than temporary or nominal
amateurs. In the same year the IOC convened in Baden Baden and agreed
further relaxations of Olympic eligibility while now stressing the impor-
tance that the ‘ethics of sportsmanship and fair play [. . .] be respected’.56
Professional sportspeople were still not admitted to the Games at this point
but the IOC, now presided over by the pragmatic Spanish bureaucrat Juan
Antonio Samaranch, was plainly in the process of disposing of the last vestiges
of amateurism. In 1984 the Olympics were staged for the second time in Los
Angeles and given over to a local organising committee which ran the event
332 Tilting at Windmills? Olympic Politics and the Spectre of Amateurism

on a commercial basis. At these Games tennis returned as a ‘demonstration

sport’ confined to young players – a dry run for an open Olympic tournament
four years later. In 1985 at its Berlin Congress the IOC moved more decisively
toward abandoning the amateur/professional distinction in its admission
policy. Samaranch, along with a number of commentators, now denounced
past Olympic prescriptions on this matter, in 1986 suggesting that previous
eligibility rules had been ‘enacted at the time of social and class values of
the occidental middle class in the XIXth century’.57 In 1991 the definition of
an amateur was once again made the responsibility of the international fed-
erations; this was, of course, in principle, the position adopted in Prague in
1925 but the assumption now was that athletes would be expected simply to
embrace the historic Olympic ideal of fair play and affirm their love for their
sport.58 Moreover, Olympic competitors, be they formally professional or not,
wealthy or of slender means, would still receive no cash prize. Not even the
Wimbledon tennis tournament, which had gone ‘open’ in 1968 and traded
similarly (and lucratively) on its gentlemanly amateur origins, could match
that. The word ‘amateur’ was now defined by inner feeling – arguably its origi-
nal meaning – and a contingent of Olympic historians and chroniclers fell in
behind these developments. Harry Gordon, for example, official historian of
the Australian Olympic Committee, wrote in 2001 that the previous guardians
of Olympic principles had ‘represented other times, other values, when the
economy of sport could support a leisure class that could afford to compete in
games for enjoyment alone. They were righteous, sincere and unenlightened.
What the Olympic movement needed was a revolution, and Samaranch gave
them one’.59 A similar revisionism addressed the concept of amateurism itself,
the argument that amateurism was really all in the mind now gaining cur-
rency. The Australian professor of physical education Robert J. Paddick wrote
in the Olympic Studies Journal in 1994 that it was ‘quite possible for the pro-
fessional (in the sense of paid) athlete to compete with the amateur spirit’.60
A new, more diffuse and life-enhancing version of the Olympic Charter was
issued, in which the IOC undertook ‘to place everywhere sport at the service of
the harmonious development of man . . .’61 The IOC now offered this benign
ethos as something into which sponsors (styled as ‘Olympic partners’) might
like to buy. American writer Bill Mallon, another regular commentator on
Olympic affairs, offered a blunt pragmatism to complement these seemingly
rarefied redefinitions of amateurism: ‘In the 1990s it costs a lot of money to
run the Olympic Games and the IOC. That money now comes from inter-
national corporations and those corporations are not going to put money to
watch American college basketball players after they have had “The Dream
Team” [the team of US professionals that won the basketball gold medal in the
Barcelona Olympics of 1992]’.62
 Stephen Wagg 333

The IOC website currently assures visitors that: ‘The Olympic Games are one
of the most effective international marketing platforms in the world, reaching
billions of people in over 200 countries and territories throughout the world.’63
Partners, of course, will gain not only access to this platform, but, as I have
argued, the opportunity to bathe its products in the Olympic aura – an aura
purportedly steeped, still, in the amateur ethics of ancient civilisation.

Notes
1. See Mark Golden, Chapter 1 in this volume. See also Cartledge, ‘Olympic Self Sacrifice’.
2. Glader, Amateurism and Athletics, p. 54.
3. Ibid., 96.
4. As it happened the rowing events at the Athens Olympics of 1896 were cancelled
because of bad weather.
5. Gafner, The International Olympic Committee: One Hundred Years 1894–1994, Volume I,
56–58.
6. Ibid., 55.
7. Young, The Olympic Myth of Greek Amateur Athletics, 179–181. Quoted in Hill, Olympic
Politics, 17.
8. Pope, Patriotic Games: Sporting Traditions in the American Imagination 1876–1926, 22–23.
9. Harper’s Weekly, 40 (18 April 1896), 406. Quoted in Lucas, ‘Caspar Whitney: The
Imperial Advocate of Athletic Amateurism . . .’, 31.
10. Pope, Patriotic Games, 31.
11. Ibid., 2.
12. Gafner, The International Olympic Committee . . . , Volume I, 118.
13. Ibid., 118.
14. Ibid., 118–119.
15. Wagg, ‘Base Mechanic Arms: British Rowing, Some Ducks and the Shifting Politics
of Amateurism’.
16. Barcs, The Modern Olympics Story, 18–19.
17. Guttmann, The Games Must Go On: Avery Brundage and the Olympic Movement, 21.
18. Gafner The International Olympic Committee . . . , Volume I, 107.
19. Glader Amateurism and Athletics, 134.
20. Mallon, ‘Golf and the Olympic Games’, 8.
21. See Jenkins, The First London Olympics 1908, 89–90, 178–181, 184–186. See also
Matthews, ‘The Controversial Olympic Games of 1908 . . .’, 40–53.
22. Jenkins, The First London Olympics, 129–130.
23. Ibid., 173–174.
24. Gafner, The International Olympic Committee . . . , Volume I, 107.
25. Pope, Patriotic Games, 50–3.
26. See, for example, Allison, Amateurism in Sport, 23. For fuller accounts of the
Thorpe controversy see Wheeler, Jim Thorpe: World’s Greatest Athlete and Crawford,
All American: The Rise and Fall of Jim Thorpe. Wheeler led the campaign for the
posthumous reinstatement of Thorpe’s amateur status. He has pointed out that the
withdrawal of this status came initially from the American Athletic Union and that
any challenge to this status should have been submitted to the Swedish Olympic
Committee within 30 days of the conclusion of the Games. The challenge was made
334 Tilting at Windmills? Olympic Politics and the Spectre of Amateurism

six months after this deadline. The AAU restored Thorpe’s amateur standing in 1973,
20 years after his death, and his medals in 1983; see Wheeler, vii–viii.
27. Gafner, The International Olympic Committee . . . , Volume I, 161.
28. Ibid., 165.
29. Ibid., 235–236.
30. Ibid., 236–238.
31. Glader, Amateurism and Athletics, 140.
32. Gafner, The International Olympic Committee . . . , Volume I, 239–243.
33. See Guttmann, The Games Must Go On, 103–107; Gafner, The International Olympic
Committee: One Hundred Years, Volume II, 62–63.
34. Speech entitled ‘Stop – Look and Listen’, 45th IOC Session, Copenhagen
1950. Reproduced in full in IOC, The International Olympic Committee . . . ,
Volume II, 43.
35. Guttmann, The Games Must Go On, 123–124.
36. Ibid., 119.
37. See www.tourmycountry.com/austria/karlschranz.htm. See also Gafner, The International
Olympic Committee . . . , Volume II, 161, 163–164.
38. Guttmann, The Games Must Go On, 124–125.
39. ‘Mr Avery Brundage’s Conference with the International Press, Mexico 26th October
1968’, IOC Newsletter, No. 15, December 1968, 577.
40. See, for example, Gafner, The International Olympic Committee . . . , Volume II, 84–88;
Guttmann, The Games Must Go On, 116.
41. Guttmann, The Games Must Go On, 123, 131.
42. Gafner, The International Olympic Committee . . . , Volume II, 234.
43. See Collins, ‘The Invention of Sporting Tradition: National Myths, Imperial Pasts and
the Origins of Australian Rules Football’.
44. Gafner, The International Olympic Committee . . . , Volume I, 242.
45. Guttmann, The Games Must Go On, 137.
46. Ibid., 127.
47. Hampton, The Austerity Olympics, 172, 265.
48. Ibid., 6, 145.
49. See, for example, Wagg, ‘“If You Want the Girl Next Door . . .”: Olympic Sport and
the Popular Press in Early Cold War Britain’.
50. Glader, Amateurism and Athletics, 151–153.
51. Hyman, Sprint to Fame.
52. Interview with the author 22 September 2010.
53. Gafner, The International Olympic Committee: One Hundred Years 1894–1994, Volume III,
236–237.
54. Guttmann, The Games Must Go On, 130.
55. Miller, Olympic Revolution: The Olympic Biography of Juan Antonio Samaranch, 66.
56. Gafner, The International Olympic Committee . . . , Volume III, 241.
57. Ibid.
58. Gafner, The International Olympic Committee . . . , Volume III, 242.
59. Gordon, ‘Samaranch and History . . . an Inheritance Very Different from the One He
Received’, 5.
60. Paddick, ‘Amateurism: An Idea of the Past or a Necessity for the Future’, 4. For a
full-length revisionist history, see Lucas, The Future of the Olympic Games, especially
Chapter Two, 13–24.
61. Gafner, The International Olympic Committee . . . , Volume III, 45.
 Stephen Wagg 335

62. Mallon, ‘Qualification for Olympic Games in the 21st Century’, 10.
63. www.olympic.org/en/content/The-IOC/Sponsoring/Sponsorship/

References
Allison, L. (2001) Amateurism in Sport (London: Frank Cass).
Barcs, S. (1964) The Modern Olympics Story (Budapest: Corvina Press).
Cartledge, P. (2000) ‘Olympic Self Sacrifice’, History Today, 50.10 (30 September), at:
www.historytoday.com/paul-cartledge/olympic-self-sacrifice.
Collins, T. (2011) ‘The Invention of Sporting Tradition: National Myths, Imperial Pasts
and the Origins of Australian Rules Football’, in S. Wagg (ed.), Myths and Milestones in
the History of Sport (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan).
Crawford, W. (2005) All American: The Rise and Fall of Jim Thorpe (Hoboken: John
Wiley).
Gafner, R. (ed.) (1994) The International Olympic Committee: One Hundred Years 1894–1994,
Volume I (Lausanne: IOC).
Gafner, R. (ed.) (1995) The International Olympic Committee: One Hundred Years, Volume II
(Lausanne: IOC).
Gafner, R. (ed.) (1996) The International Olympic Committee: One Hundred Years, Volume
III (Lausanne: IOC).
Glader, E. A. (1978) Amateurism and Athletics (West Point: Leisure Press).
Gordon, H. (2001) ‘Samaranch and History . . . an Inheritance Very Different from the
One He Received’, Journal of Olympic History, September, 5–6.
Guttmann, A. (1984) The Games Must Go On: Avery Brundage and the Olympic Movement
(New York: Columbia University Press).
Hampton, J. (2008) The Austerity Olympics (London: Aurum Press).
Hill, C. R. (1992) Olympic Politics (Manchester: Manchester University Press).
Hyman, D. (1964) Sprint to Fame (London: Stanley Paul).
Jenkins, R. (2008) The First London Olympics 1908 (London: Piatkus Books).
Lucas, J. A. (1992) The Future of the Olympic Games (Champaign: Human
Kinetics Books).
Lucas, J. A. (2000) ‘Caspar Whitney: The Imperial Advocate of Athletic Amateurism
and His Involvement with the International Olympic Committee and the American
Olympic Committee 1899–1912’, Journal of Olympic History (May), 30–38.
Mallon, W. (1993) ‘Qualification for Olympic Games in the 21st Century’, Citius, Altius,
Fortius, 1.2 (Spring), 10–17.
Mallon, W. (1993) ‘Golf and the Olympic Games’, Citius, Altius, Fortius, 1.3 (Summer),
6–10.
Matthews, G. R. (1980) ‘The Controversial Olympic Games of 1908 as Viewed by the
New York Times and the Times of London’, Journal of Sport History, 7.2 (Summer),
40–53.
Miller, D. (1994) Olympic Revolution: The Olympic Biography of Juan Antonio Samaranch
(London: Pavilion Books).
Paddick, R. J. (1994) ‘Amateurism: An Idea of the Past or a Necessity for the Future’,
Olympika: The Journal of Olympic Studies, III, 1–15.
Pope, S. W. (1997) Patriotic Games: Sporting Traditions in the American Imagination
1876–1926 (New York: Oxford University Press).
Wagg, S. (2006) ‘Base Mechanic Arms: British Rowing, Some Ducks and the Shifting
Politics of Amateurism’, Sport in History, 26.3 (December), 520–539.
336 Tilting at Windmills? Olympic Politics and the Spectre of Amateurism

Wagg, S. (2007) ‘“If You Want the Girl Next Door. . .”, Olympic Sport and the Popular
Press in Early Cold War Britain’, in S. Wagg and D. L. Andrews (eds), East Plays West:
Sport and the Cold War (London: Routledge).
Wheeler, R. W. (1979) Jim Thorpe: World’s Greatest Athlete (Norman: University of
Oklahoma Press).
Young, D. C. (1984) The Olympic Myth of Greek Amateur Athletics (Chicago: Ares
Publishers).
21
Celebrate Humanity: Cultural
Citizenship and the Global Branding
of ‘Multiculturalism’1
Michael D. Giardina, Jennifer L. Metz and Kyle S. Bunds

The Olympic Promotional Campaign communicates the

extraordinary and inspiring values embodied within the
Olympic Movement. It tells real stories of the remarkable per-
severance, honor, goodness, heroism, and unity demonstrated
during the Olympic Games. The campaign rejoices in, and
invites the world to celebrate, these values.
Olympics 2000 Promotional Programme, Information Manual

365 days a year, the true spirit is demonstrated by: our

Worldwide Corporate Sponsors. Because our athletes can’t
run, jump, or swim until they’re fed, housed, and trained. For
that, we – and everyone who loves the Games – owe them our
deepest gratitude.
Jacques Rogge, President, International Olympic Committee, 2004

In 2000, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) launched Celebrate

Humanity, its first-ever global branding campaign. Created by world-renowned
advertising agency TBWA\Chiat\Day with the explicit goal of communicating ‘the
extraordinary and inspiring values embodied within the Olympic Movement’,
the campaign aired worldwide in more than 200 countries during the lead-up
to that year’s Summer Games in Sydney, Australia, and would later be reworked
for use during the 2002 Winter Games in Salt Lake City, Utah, the 2004
Summer Games in Athens, Greece, the 2006 Winter Games in Turin, Italy, and
so on.2 During its unveiling at the 2000 Sport Summit in New York, Michael R.
Payne, then-Director of Marketing for the IOC, characterised the $150 million
campaign as communicating to viewers ‘traditional Olympic ideals the athletes
exhibit when they compete in the Olympic venues: excellence in oneself,
respect for one another, balance between body and mind, fair play, and, of
course, joy in effort’.3

337
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
338 Celebrate Humanity: the Global Branding of ‘Multiculturalism’

From the start, it was made clear that the campaign was not specifically
intended to market the IOC as a governing body or to advance the Olympic
brand, per se; rather, the campaign was positioned as raising awareness of the
Games and building further interest in and excitement for Sydney 2000.4 On this
point, Lee Clow, Chairman and Worldwide Creative Director of TBWA, described
the campaign as not being about advertising in the ‘traditional sense . . . [rather]
it’s about reminding the world of the values and dreams the Olympics repre-
sent’.5 He went on to say: ‘the Olympics is the ultimate celebration of humanity;
we want the whole world to be able to participate in that celebration.’6

***

Much has changed in the intervening decade-plus since Celebrate Humanity

debuted in 2000. At the time of its launch, the notion of a ‘global village’ –
originally proffered by media theorist Marshall McLuhan to refer to the global
interconnectivity of individuals via rapid advancements in communication
and satellite technologies, and the resultant breakdown of borders manifested
therefrom – was quickly becoming part of the everyday Western vernacular.7 The
so-called dot-com bubble was still a few months away from bursting, with
the previous five-year period of the late 1990s showing extreme growth and
financial speculation in online and digital technology companies that were, to
quote New York Times columnist Thomas Friedman, ‘flattening’ the globe and
effectively bringing everyone ‘closer together’ on a more equal playing field.8
Within this context, issues concerning multiculturalism, diversity and
inclusivity were rapidly moving to the forefront of popular discourse as well:
throughout the early 1990s, we witnessed such notable interventions as
Michael Jackson’s 1991 race-morphing music video ‘Black or White’; Maya
Angelou’s landmark 1993 Inauguration Day recitation of her poem ‘On the
Pulse of the Morning’, which captured ‘the significant discursive shift from
‘melting pot’ to ‘mosaic’;9 the 1990 release of a line of (albeit essentialising)
‘Multicultural Barbie’ dolls;10 and the provocative ‘United Colors of Benetton’
advertising campaign for clothing brand Benetton (which debuted in 1989 and
continued in the years that followed), all situated within – and endorsing –
‘diverse’, mosaic future-present. Likewise, as Lauren Berlant has chronicled,
1993 saw a Time magazine special issue titled ‘The New Face of America: How
Immigrants Are Shaping the World’s First Multicultural Society’ make concrete
and definitive this turn: on the cover, a computer-generated image of a female
face digitally created out of numerous ethnic and racial portraits was meant
to represent the future, multicultural face of America.11 This development
was not only attributable to the United States; Europe, too, was dealing with
various engagements with multiculturalism. Most notably, this was witnessed
in Great Britain, which in 1997 saw Tony Blair’s Labour government effectively
 Michael D. Giardina, Jennifer L. Metz and Kyle S. Bunds 339

appropriate the slogan ‘Cool Britannia’ as part of its branding strategy to

positively portray the country as a hip, cool, forward-looking state welcoming
to immigrants (who were popularly credited as being ‘a major driving force
behind the richly multicultural London blossoming before our eyes’).12
This multicultural fervour was correlatively mirrored in the world of sports,
where golfer Tiger Woods – seen by many at the time as the heir apparent to
the marketing power left vacant with the waning of Michael Jordan as a celeb-
rity icon – was actively positioning himself as Cablinasian13 and appearing in
advertising campaigns such as Nike’s aptly named ‘I am Tiger Woods’ spot that
moved to capitalise on his ‘multi-racial ethnic background’14 and locate him as
a ‘citizen of the world.’ In this way, write C. L. Cole and David L. Andrews, Nike
enacted a semiotic ‘process of deification centered on a cast of racially diverse
and geographically dispersed children (on golf courses and distinctly urban set-
tings) who collectively embodied Nike’s vision of Tiger Woods’s heterogeneity’,15
one that effectively worked to depoliticise or ‘neuter’ his racialised identity.16 In
a similar vein, and more directly related to the campaign at hand, the 2000
Summer Games celebrated athletes such as Australian Aboriginal sprinter Cathy
Freeman, who just six years earlier had been chastised by the head of the
Australian team and in the Australian parliament for taking a victory lap with
both the Australian and Aboriginal flags following her Gold Medal perform-
ance at the 1994 Commonwealth Games in Canada. Yet when she repeated
this display in Sydney after winning Gold in the 400m sprint, she was widely
celebrated by numerous commentators as an avatar of greater racial awareness
and acceptance within the country.17 Teresa Heinz Housel insightfully remarks,
however, that the opening ceremonies – in which Freeman lit the Olympic
flame in a grandiose spectacle – ‘was embedded in a colonial discourse of Anglo-
Whiteness that attempted to manage difference’, rather than celebrate it, and
which was uncritically read in Western media as ‘reasserting the ceremony’s
emphasis on multiculturalism, ethnicity, and reconciliation themes’.18 Thus,
Housel continues, was ‘the use of spectacle to represent unified nationhood . . .
central to Sydney ceremony’s performance of multiculturalism’.19
It was against this contextual backdrop that two of the three authors of this
chapter first examined the Celebrate Humanity campaign and the politics of
multiculturalism and inclusivity running throughout its print and televisual
materials.20 Situating the campaign within the literature of brand management
and US body politics, the article offered an analysis of globally standardised
corporate marketing messages and their relation to local identity practices (in
this case, the extent to which inclusivity was understood in 1990s America
throughout various constituent groups, and the role body politics played in the
construction of such constituencies). In the years following this initial study,
others have also turned a critical eye toward the campaign – most notably
Joseph Maguire and his colleagues, who authored three significant treatments
340 Celebrate Humanity: the Global Branding of ‘Multiculturalism’

of the campaign as it directly related to consumer culture, globalisation and

its contradictions of the ideals of Olympism.21 In this chapter, we contribute
to the ongoing critical analysis of Celebrate Humanity in light of the inter-
vening ten-plus years of cultural history that have passed since our initial
critique. Most importantly, this entails situating the subsequent evolution of
the campaign and its representations within a distinctly post-9/11 context of
global social relations and neoliberal dynamics.
To this end, we begin by reviewing the core precepts of the original Celebrate
Humanity campaign, locating it within the context of late-1990s debates
concerning multiculturalism. Correlatively, we read the campaign over and
against the tumult facing the IOC (specifically, the allegations of bribery in
the selection of Salt Lake City for the 2002 Winter Games), and the extent to
which the two were discursively – if not practically – linked. From there, we
turn our attention to post-9/11 iterations of the Celebrate Humanity campaign,
reading them collectively through the lens of what Charles R. Garoian and
Yvonne M. Gaudelius call ‘spectacle pedagogy’, or the notion that, ‘As visual
pronouncements, images are ideological, they teach us what and how to see
and think’, and in so doing, ‘mediate the ways in which we interact with one
another as social beings’.22 That is, we look to the campaign as a cultural primer
of sorts through which to better understand ‘the pedagogical objectives of mass
mediated culture and corporate capitalism to manufacture our desires and
determine our choices . . . [and which] . . . functions as an insidious, ever-
present form of propaganda in the service of cultural imperialism’.23 We
conclude by engaging with notions of cultural citizenship as enacted within
and through such a corporatist Olympic perspective.

Celebrate Humanity/Celebrate Consumers

What exactly do we mean when we talk about the Olympics? The apparent ref-
erent is what ‘really’ happens… But the hidden referent is the television show,
the ensemble of representations of the first spectacle… The Olympics, then, are
doubly hidden: no one sees all of it, and no one sees that they don’t see it.
Pierre Bourdieu, On Television, 79

The Olympic Games are globally recognised as the grandest media spectacle
in the world, televised in more countries than any other ‘mega-event’,24 includ-
ing the FIFA World Cup of soccer and the NFL Super Bowl, and receiving the
largest cumulative television audience in all of sport: the 2008 Beijing Summer
Games, for example, attracted a singular viewing audience of 4.7 billion people
(an increase of 800 million people over the previous Summer Games in Athens
in 2004), and an estimated cumulative audience of 40 billion persons (that is,
roughly 3 billion people watching some portion of the broadcast each day of
 Michael D. Giardina, Jennifer L. Metz and Kyle S. Bunds 341

the Games).25 As the popular fiction would have it, these are the moments in
which the world puts aside its differences and rejoices in a narrative of national
unity to cheer on ‘our’ Olympic athletes.
Given the historical association of the Olympics with matters of national
pride, import, identity and political struggle (for example, the landmark Games
of 1936, 1968 and 1980), it may strike some as odd that such a spectacle would
need an image-making, global branding campaign in the first place. However, if
we contextualise the campaign against the backdrop of IOC scandals circulating
at the time (such as revelations regarding the Salt Lake City bidding scandal,
in which members of the IOC were accused of taking bribes from the Salt Lake
Organizing Committee [SLOC], which had been awarded the 2002 Winter
Games in 1995)26, one might be persuaded into thinking Celebrate Humanity
was a direct response to the IOC–SLOC controversy. Even though IOC officials
were on record as stating the campaign’s development predated the scandal,
major news reports nonetheless saw the campaign as fitting smoothly into a
post-scandal frame of reference: for example, Mark Riley of Melbourne’s The Age
referred to Celebrate Humanity as ‘a bid to repair [the IOC’s] shattered image’
by ‘attempting to shift international attention back on to positive images of
competition and away from the continuing scandals’, and Stuart Elliot of the
New York Times declared that the IOC was pretending ‘the problem never
happened’ by introducing a ‘warm and fuzzy campaign that hope[d] to woo
consumers with emotional rather than rational appeals’ about the state of the
Olympic movement.27 The most vociferous criticism, however, came from veteran
media critic Bob Garfield of Advertising Age, who acerbically concluded that
Celebrate Humanity was nothing more than a public relations exercise intended
to repair the once-gleaming image of the Olympic movement. He wrote, in part:

As if the Olympics hadn’t been tainted enough by terrorism, Cold War

politics, boycotts, de-amateurization, blood doping, vulgar Ueberrothian
commercialization, Tonya Harding, Charles Barkley and the Chinese All-
Testosterone Women’s Diving Team, along come the latter-day sinners of
the Salt Lake Organizing Committee to remind us what the Games are all
about: Going for the gold . . . deposited, presumably, in a numbered account
somewhere in Zurich. Exalted and revered for the beauty, the drama, the
purity of sport, the Olympics have devolved into just another corrupt pro
league, populated by money-grubbers, sponsored by corporate parasites and
governed by a sleazy cabinet of influence-peddling apparatchiks. All of this
is presided over by His Exalted Highness and Czar for Life Juan Antonio
Samaranch, who leads the Olympic Movement approximately the way Jerry
Lewis leads the fight against muscular dystrophy. That is, he behaves as if,
by virtue of his tenure, he owns it. Which is why the IOC has to hire an
advertising agency for image repair.28
342 Celebrate Humanity: the Global Branding of ‘Multiculturalism’

Yet despite this damning if hyperbolic characterisation of the Olympics

(and specifically the IOC), Garfield was quite clear in heaping praise on the
campaign itself, noting in particular with respect to a spot featuring Derek
Redmond (British sprinter, 1992 Olympics) being physically supported by his
proud father across the finish line following a mid-race injury:

It’s a very charming, very poignant spot that can’t help but move and inspire
you, because – oh, yeah – for all their scandals and ugly compromises, the
Olympics are moving and inspiring. Also exciting, beautiful, vivid, often
dramatic and sometimes breathtaking. It’s no wonder that, quadrennially,
the world suspends its disbelief and swoons under the spell of Olympic
euphoria. We buy into the silly mythology that politics are set aside, that
competition trumps commerce, that sportsmanship reigns – not because we
believe it but because we wish to believe it. It is a spectacle so grand, and so
rich with majestic moments, we are prepared to forgive it nearly everything.
Thus does TBWA succeed so well, because this wonderful footage corroborates the
myth. It validates our optimism. It permits us, against a large body of evidence,
to feel good.29

From striking print executions30 of the aforementioned Redmond to that

of Wilma Rudolph (1960 US gold medal sprinter) overcoming a debilitating
childhood illness, to an equally inspiring choir-and-hymn televisual execution
featuring Olympic icons Jesse Owens, Muhammad Ali, Mary Lou Retton and
Greg Louganis (titled ‘Giant’), to a ‘Dr Seuss’-themed jingle about ‘a rainbow
of colors together for sport’, ‘respect[ing] one another regardless of weapons’,
and in the end thinking ‘that maybe, just maybe, it could all be like this’ (titled
‘Rhymes’), the campaign clearly moved to capitalise on the deployment of feel-
good messages of inclusivity and multicultural awareness among competing
Olympic nations.31
This general theme – if not active promotion – of inclusivity, humanitarianism
and utopian friendship among nations was laced throughout each of the
original spots in the 2000 series. Further, the images chosen for the campaign
were emotionally powerful, engaging the viewer and inviting him or her to
rejoice in the Olympic motto Citius, Altius, Fortius (‘Faster, Higher, Stronger’).
It was here that sport, identity, and global capitalism collided, forming a ‘body
of cultural myth’ whose dynamic and recognisable figures spoke ‘the voices of
freedom, liberty, individuality, family, responsibility, and so on’.32 And it is pre-
cisely in the seductive appeal of such cultural myths that promoting the idea
of a tolerant, inclusive, multicultural world was not only viewed as ‘socially
responsible’ but also economically profitable.
We should not forget, however, that as a contested, political term, ‘multicul-
turalism’ goes far beyond prosaic North American popular press declarations
 Michael D. Giardina, Jennifer L. Metz and Kyle S. Bunds 343

about the ‘acknowledgment of diversity’ or ‘the drive to include non-Western

materials in every possible course’ of public life.33 Rather, a critical reading of
the term would find that it is ‘highly problematic, without consistent mean-
ings in its many usages and easily open to co-optation into celebrations of plu-
ralist diversity that obscure underlying power relations’.34 Stuart Hall offers a
similar understanding, stating that, at its core, multiculturalism ‘is not a single
doctrine, does not characterize one political strategy, and does not represent an
already achieved state of affairs . . . It describes a variety of political strategies
and processes which are everywhere incomplete’.35 By way of explanation, he
outlines various iterations, such as conservative, liberal, pluralist, commercial,
corporate and critical forms of multiculturalism.36 For our purposes, we can
view Celebrate Humanity as a form of conservative-commercial multicultu-
ralism in which the popular celebration of [assimilatory] diversity is tied to
market imperatives. As Hall explains: ‘Commercial multiculturalism assumes
that if the diversity of individuals from different communities is recognized
in the marketplace, then the problems of cultural differences will be (dis)solved
through private consumption, without any need for a redistribution of power
and resources.’37 Additionally, as John Hutnyk elaborated at the time:

Difference within the system is now the condition and stimulus of the
market – this necessarily comes with an illusion of equality, of many dif-
ferences, and, in the bastardized versions of chaos politics which result, the
image is of ‘crossed’ cultural forms merely competing for a fair share.38

Such a practice leads to a ‘distorted view of the social relations of oppres-

sion, exploitation, and domination, which cut across as well as within dif-
ferent ethnic and racial minorities’.39 But what if, instead, we followed Ben
Carrington and viewed multiculturalism in its critical derivation – as a pro-
gressive political framework used to “decenter” Eurocentric discourses and
Western hegemony’?40 Or, as Jan Nederveen Pieterse would say, as a framework
concerned with the ‘redefinition of political rights in societies in which the
composition of the population and the political balance of power have been
changing’.41 Approaching multiculturalism in this way, Carrington argues,
would challenge us ‘to rethink the very categories upon which we understand
the world around us’.42 To that end, it would mean understanding ‘multicultur-
alism’ as both a political movement that strives to attain equality for all races
and ethnicities across the board, and as a state of being that acknowledges dif-
ference while striving to eliminate stereotyping and racial profiling.
In this regard, and while seemingly celebrating the humanity of the
International Olympic Committee – and, completing its symbiotic circle, the
‘humanity’ of its global sponsors (see below) – one way to view this initial
offering would be to say that the 2000 Celebrate Humanity campaign in
344 Celebrate Humanity: the Global Branding of ‘Multiculturalism’

fact depoliticised the progressive imperatives of multiculturalism, co-opted

multiculturalism’s empowering political rhetoric, and replaced it with the
IOC’s own preferred vision of racial unity; which is to say, a thoroughly effaced,
normalised, and thus non-political enactment of conservative, commercial
‘multiculturalism’ employed for the sole purpose of generating a larger market share
among diverse audiences.
Put differently, and contra the themes highlighted in Celebrate Humanity,
Susan Ferguson argues: ‘The organizing principle [of the Olympics] is not about
showcasing athletic skill and teamwork. Nor is it equal competition and the joy
of fair play. And it certainly isn’t about the safety and welfare of the athletes.
Rather, it is about attracting as wide an audience as possible.’43 In this regard, we
believe Maguire et al. are correct when they assert, ‘a more fitting tagline for
the campaign could be ‘. . . “Celebrate Consumers”, rather than “Celebrate
Humanity”, as this is the overwhelming framework within which the IOC com-
missioned research and the subsequent marketing campaign was developed’.44
The question for us, however, concerns how such consumers are both celebrated
and constructed across a vast panoply of Olympic signifiers, and to what extent
these signifiers function pedagogically. Importantly, we do not disagree with
Maguire et al.’s contention that the ‘media/marketing/advertising/corporate
nexus is concerned less with the IOC message, and more with building markets,
constructing brand awareness and creating local/global consumers and iden-
tities’;45 clearly this is true. And while it is also true that ‘what is globalized
through global sport events, and campaigns such as Celebrate Humanity, is not
mutual understanding between members of global society, but consumption
and capitalism more broadly’, these processes do not occur in isolation from the
broader socio-political context of the historical moment.46
For example, in his essay on the hyperreality of the modern Olympics, David
L. Andrews suggests that, given ‘the global visibility of such national stagings’
it was ‘perhaps surprising that the interpretive program for the 2002 Salt Lake
City Winter Olympic Games should have been so white and masculinist in its
orientation’.47 As testament to this notion, he turns to Jackie Hogan’s work on
Olympic Opening ceremonies, where she states in regards to Salt Lake City:

A key theme running throughout the interpretive program was humani-

ty’s relationship to and ultimate victory over nature. This was exemplified
particularly in the ‘Fire Within’ segments around which the interpretive
program was structured. In the first of these segments, the ‘Child of Light’:
a young White boy struggled to make his way through a raging winter storm.
A White man representing the fire within helped guide the boy to safety.
The segment was a parable of humanity’s (and America’s) search for strength
and meaning and the triumph of human will in the face of adversity. In this
sense, the story was timeless and universal. Nonetheless, the fact that White
 Michael D. Giardina, Jennifer L. Metz and Kyle S. Bunds 345

males personified both humanity/America (the child) and its will and drive
(the fire within) reveals the extent to which White male perspectives and
experiences are still dominant in discourses of American identity.48

Embedded in this performance is the notion that the 2002 Winter Games used
‘whiteness’ (or, perhaps better said as, returned to whiteness) as the dominant
positionality through which to understand and reiterate themes of inclusivity.
Here we find Mark Dyreson’s work to be quite useful. In his essay on the long-
standing historical legacies of ‘melting pot allegories’ within the US Olympic
movement, Dyreson chronicles the extent to which the ‘melting pot symbol-
izes the national belief that the United States has the world’s most democratic
and egalitarian society’.49 In particular, he points us to the overt politicisation
of the idea by then-President Ronald Reagan who, in speaking of the 1984
US Olympic team, actively articulated notions of ‘American exceptionalism
and ethnic diversity’50 to the future of the (un-hyphenated) nation (at the
same time as his regressive policies were having a deleterious impact on issues
related to racial and ethnic populations, immigration and the like). That is, his
rhetoric was cast in the language of assimilation, rather than of ‘salad bowl’
or ‘mosaic’ renderings of diversity. Given the upsurge in nationalist declara-
tions in the US popular-political sphere immediately following 9/11, it is not
surprising that the celebration of diversity at the 2002 Games was visually and
discursively performed in this manner.
In the case of Celebrate Humanity, the 2002 iteration was squarely located
within a post-9/11 context – though it was not of that context (see below) –
even going so far as to recognise its import in an official IOC summative
document on Salt Lake city, which explains: ‘The sentiment of the Celebrate
Humanity campaign, which promotes the Olympic ideals of global friendship,
solidarity, and fair play, struck a chord with the public worldwide after the
tragedy of September 11.’ Interestingly, the televisual spots for Celebrate
Humanity were not created post-9/11; rather, they were simply re-worked
versions of those appearing in 2000. For example, the spots titled ‘Adversary’,
‘Giant’, and ‘Courage’ contained the same narration (by actor Robin Williams)
as those in 2000, only this time with Winter Olympic sports and moments
depicted rather than Summer sports and moments. And new ones that were
produced – including ones about the fabled Jamaican bobsled team (complete
with Bob Marley music) and one about extreme sports (featuring music by Daft
Punk) – were generally aimed at younger viewers.51
Interestingly, however, the page that follows this self-congratulatory 9/11
statement in the IOC pressbook highlights the ‘Celebrate Humanity partner
recognition advertisement’ for that year; it shows a close-up of intertwined
hands accompanied by the copy, ‘These moments belong to us all and are made
possible, in part, with the help of our Worldwide Corporate Partners . . . we ask
346 Celebrate Humanity: the Global Branding of ‘Multiculturalism’

the world to return the favour by supporting the companies that advance the
spirit of the Olympics.’52 At first glance, the explicit conjoining of Olympic
ideals with that of global corporate partners presents a paradox. However, in his
analysis of the Olympics and their standing as ‘mega-events’, Maurice Roche
suggests that we should take seriously the various dimensions of citizenship
(that is, cultural, social, civil and political) that are embedded in the corporate
imperatives organising the Olympic Movement. To this end, he engages in a
discussion of both ‘universal citizenship’ (that is, ‘membership in the implicit
and ideal global community constituted by the moral–ontological “fact” of the
common status of human being’) and ‘global corporate citizenship’ (that is,
‘the “external” behaviour of mega-event movements as corporate or collective
actors in relation to global civil society and global governance’), and outlines
the extent to which the Olympic Movement (and by implication the IOC) can
be understood to function or promote itself in this manner.53 In the remainder
of this chapter, we want to focus on a form of cultural citizenship as it is
represented in and through Celebrate Humanity.

[Olympic] Cultural Citizenship?

We are in a crisis of belonging, a population crisis, of who, what, when,

and where. More and more people feel as though they do not belong. More
and more people are seeking to belong, and more and more people are not
counted as belonging.
Toby Miller, Cultural Citizenship, 1

In 2004, Celebrate Humanity was taken in a new direction, as Saatchi & Saatchi
(New York) won the brief from TBWA\Chiat\Day. An IOC press kit explains the
2004/2006 campaign54 this way:

Celebrate Humanity presents personal interpretations of the essence of the

Olympic experience. The messages are simple but of resounding signifi-
cance. All rejoice in the extraordinary power of the Olympic Games to reflect
the human spirit and to inspire hope for a world that has come together to
share in this singular experience. Celebrate Humanity resonates with the
truth that the Olympic ideals – the values of hope, friendship and fair play,
dreams and inspiration, joy in effort – are universal, shared by all.

The document also lists five concrete objectives of the campaign; two deal with
the to-be-expected themes of ‘raising awareness of the Olympic Games’ and
promoting it as ‘the greatest sporting and cultural festival in the world’. The
other three, however, are all corporately aligned: ‘build the size of the Olympic
Games broadcast viewing audience’, ‘provide a positive, synergistic backdrop
 Michael D. Giardina, Jennifer L. Metz and Kyle S. Bunds 347

for the Olympic programs of the IOC’s marketing partners’, and create a
campaign that broadcasters, National Olympic Committees, and Organizing
Committees for the Olympic Games can use ‘for developing their own market-
ing programs’.
Rather than narrating the spots with a singular voiceover as in the past,
the 2004/2006 campaign moved to personalise the Olympic experience by
featuring individuals ‘renowned in various fields of endeavour’ external to
sport, each of whom narrated their own spot, as well as lent their words to
print copy. The eclectic group of individuals chosen for the campaign consisted
of: Kofi Annan, then-Secretary-General of the United Nations; Italian tenor
Andrea Bocelli; Canadian singer Avril Lavigne; US actor/activist Christopher
Reeve; and former South African president Nelson Mandela.55 Their relative
association to each other is not readily apparent; in fact, it would be quite a
stretch to connect, say, Avril Lavigne to Nelson Mandela in any meaningful
way. But perhaps this is the point; beyond appealing to varying demographics
(Lavigne is clearly included to appeal to the 12–19-year-old segment alluded
to in a Sports Illustrated snapshot of the campaign), their disconnection is
reconciled in their very connection to the promotional universality of the
Olympics as a race-less, class-less, utopian dreamworld where everyone is on
equal footing. Consider the similarity of their words:

• Kofi Annan (‘Brief Moment’): ‘The greatest moment takes place . . . When,
for a brief time, no nation is greater or smaller, stronger or weaker, than any
other.’
• Avril Lavigne (‘Play’): ‘It doesn’t matter where you come from. Who your
family is. Or what you wear.’
• Christopher Reeve (‘Strength’): ‘An athlete aspires to be the best his country
has to offer. And ends up representing the best humanity has to offer.’
• Andrea Bocelli: (‘Heart’): ‘But you will not have greatness. Until you under-
stand that the strongest muscle is the heart.’
• Nelson Mandela: (‘Adversaries & Equals’): ‘Seventeen days as equals.
Twenty-two seconds as adversaries. What a wonderful world that would be.’

Returning to David Harvey’s critique of Thomas Friedman (see note 8), there
is an emergent ‘Kantian cosmopolitanism’ at work in this later iteration of
Celebrate Humanity; as Harvey deconstructs it, this is a system in which
‘everyone has to embrace contemporary bourgeois virtues and a neoliberal
work ethic if they and the countries they inhabit are to succeed in today’s
competitive environment . . . [W]e all have to become the same everywhere in
order to qualify for admission to the regime of universal (in this case neolib-
eral) rights and benefits’.56 Gordon Waitt might equally surmise that Celebrate
Humanity functions, within the context of Harvey’s critique, as an enabling
348 Celebrate Humanity: the Global Branding of ‘Multiculturalism’

pedagogy for ‘political and urban managerial elite to refashion collective

feeling, identity, emotion and consciousness’57 around a form of neoliberalism
expressed as Olympic cultural citizenship.
This idea culminated in Beijing 2008 around its ‘One World One Dream’
branding message, which effectively supplanted (or at the very least, greatly
overshadowed) Celebrate Humanity, though it reiterated the same message:

‘One World One Dream’ reflects the essence and universal values of the
Olympic spirit – Unity, Friendship, Progress, Participation, and Dream. It
expresses the common wishes of people all over the world, inspired by
the Olympic ideals, to strive for a bright future of Mankind. In spite of
the differences in colors, languages and races, we share the charm and joy
of the Olympic Games, and together we seek for the ideal of Mankind for
peace. We belong to the same world and we share the same aspirations and
dreams. (http://en.beijing2008.cn)

Lofty words and utopian ideals, to be sure. Yet therein lies the rub: the idea of
casting aside differences and pretending as though war, disease, destitution and
the like are not happening is a fool’s errand – a myth we may want to believe,
but it is a reality we cannot ignore. And yet the IOC demands that we ignore
cultural difference at the very same time as its corporate partners are using such
differences to leverage themselves in the marketplace. As Christine O’Bonsawin
puts it, ‘Under the moral guise of Olympism, participants (in the capacity of
athlete, builder, spectator, global citizen or otherwise; in short, universal parti-
cipation in the Olympics is expected) are encouraged to cast aside everyday
lived experiences, which are undeniably shaped by such factors as race, gender,
sexuality, religion, culture and ideology, and class.’58 And in this space, notes
Bettina Scholz, we are left to contend with ‘[t]he power of the Olympics to gen-
erate an international public sphere with its billion spectators lead[ing] protes-
tors and governments alike to use the opportunity the Olympics provides to
promote their own agenda’.59
But what Scholz leaves out is that now more than ever it is the global corpo-
rate partners of the Olympics that are the same ones who most directly influ-
ence what it means to be a universal citizen in the first place. And their one
world/one dream hope is that of one world consuming Coca-Cola soft drinks,
eating McDonald’s fast food, and recording such moments on their Kodak
cameras. Aihwa Ong might view this paradigm as ‘a dual process of self-making
and being-made within webs of power [where] becoming a citizen depends
on how one is constituted as a subject who exercises or submits to power rela-
tions’.60 Or, as Solen Sanli would have it, we need to question ‘who is excluded
from the public sphere by being excluded from the means of representation and
political discourses, which characteristics of society are excluded and what are
 Michael D. Giardina, Jennifer L. Metz and Kyle S. Bunds 349

the repercussions of such exclusions, and what kind of cultural consumption is

privileged and which forms are relegated to the banal or unimportant’.61
Consider Dave Zirin’s critical point about Beijing 2008 being ‘the Games the
West wanted’. As he stated in an interview with Amy Goodman, there were at
least two reasons why more than 60 US corporations spent around US$8 billion
to promote their products over the course of the Games:

It’s being done to integrate China more fully into the global economy, and
it’s also being done so that Western capital can reach what they call the most
unaffiliated – and this is their word – ‘unbranded’ army of consumers in the
world, a middle class that’s almost 300 million people that doesn’t yet have
the brand loyalties that Western corporations are looking for.62

And herein, once again, lies the rub: ‘If cosmopolites embrace and advocate
only Western liberal-democratic values at the expense of non-Western values,
then they are not truly multicultural pluralist cosmopolitans at all.’63 Rather,
as Brett Bowden writes, ‘they are (at best) cultural imperialists, perpetuating
the Western Enlightenment’s long history of universalism-cum-imperialism.’64
The result of which, against the backdrop of soaring orchestral advertisements
imploring us to celebrate humanity, smacks of base hypocrisy as organisers
‘relocate’ citizens to make way for stadia (see, for example, Beijing 2008),
corporations swallow up public funding for private gain (see Athens 2004), and
marketers exploit cultural heritages (see Vancouver 2010) – all in plain sight
of a cheering, consuming public. But make no mistake, this ‘celebration’ is the
desired outcome – and seal of approval – the IOC and its primary sponsors are
hoping for, and the very consumers they are hoping to reach. For let us not
forget, ‘to be in a position to claim to be a global citizen is a privilege that is
reserved for the modern, affluent global bourgeoisie’ – the very individuals for
whom the Games are packaged, sold and consumed.65

Coda

Sports, of course, remain at the center of the Olympics, but commercialism

has overwhelmed whatever other values the Olympics hope to embody. The
overwhelming cultural influence at the Olympics is now commercial cul-
ture; and the overwhelming informational message is: buy, buy, buy.
Rob Weissman, ‘The Commercial Games’, 2008

‘The logics of our contemporary media culture,’ writes media scholar

C. Michael Elavsky, ‘impel the reproduction of the spectacle that not only
implicitly instructs us how to interpret news “events” but also obscures the
impact of spectacle culture and its underlying ideology on social relations’.66
350 Celebrate Humanity: the Global Branding of ‘Multiculturalism’

At first glance, Celebrate Humanity (in its numerous iterations) majestically

reinforces and expands on the IOC’s preferred vision of the Olympic Games;
that is, the Olympics as a utopian site where everything is fair, just, uplifting
and accessible to all people. But the centre does not hold. Viewed as an assem-
blage of ideological discourses that socially and culturally contribute to our
everyday lived experiences and work pedagogically to frame our conception
of the world, Celebrate Humanity is but another salvo in the war for ratings,
market share and consumer dollars. The good news, though, to borrow from
Arundhati Roy, is that once you unmask the unequal relations of power – once
you come face-to-face with pedagogies of oppression (as Paulo Freire would
say) circulating in the midst of the commercialised and commodified Olympic
spectacle – ‘you can’t unsee it’.67 Judging by the scale and scope of various
anti-Olympic protests in recent years (such as those regarding the torch relay
in 2008, the local protests against the Chicago 2016 bid, and others: see Zervas,
Chapter 33 in this book.), coupled with a concomitant backlash against cor-
porate power and mendacity throughout much of the West,68 the eyes of the
all-consuming public are now wide open. And it is only real structural change,
not flashy promotional messages, that will in the end lead to a genuine celebra-
tion of humanity within the Olympic movement.

Notes
1. The authors thank Stephen Wagg and Helen Lenskyj for their editorial guidance
during the writing of this chapter. Special thanks to the International Olympic
Committee’s Marketing Division (Lausanne, Switzerland) for providing us with a
copy of the original 2000 promotional programme kit. This chapter significantly
updates arguments first made in Giardina and Metz, ‘Celebrating Humanity:
Olympic Marketing and the Homogenization of Multiculturalism’.
2. International Olympic Committee, Promotional Programme.
3. Ibid. That the campaign cost $150 million is only technically true. In point of fact,
the campaign was aired ‘free’ or as part of network promotional agreements for the
Olympics. The figure thus represents the amount it would have cost had the IOC had
to pay for the airtime.
4. Ibid.
5. IOC Press Office Release (19 January 2000).
6. Olympic Marketing Matters, 12. In its first iteration, the campaign featured six tele-
visual announcements of varying lengths (:60, :45 and :30), eight radio announce-
ments, and five print executions. These essentials were included as part of the
trilingual media kit furnished to media outlets by the IOC, which contained ‘all
the necessary materials to allow you to support this programme’ (IOC Programme
Manual, 4). Included in a complete kit were broadcast-quality videocassette tapes
of the televisual announcements; broadcast-quality audiocassette tapes of the
radio announcements; copies of the print campaign; scripts of all television and
radio announcements; synopsis of the image research studies commissioned by the
IOC; and administrative details for properly implementing the campaign on the
 Michael D. Giardina, Jennifer L. Metz and Kyle S. Bunds 351

local level. Although each of the televisual and radio announcements were produced
in English, French and Spanish, the kit also included a non-voiced-over copy of each
treatment so as to ‘provide maximum flexibility and to make these promotional
announcements as meaningful as possible to each local audience around the world’
(IOC Programme Manual, 11). However, the IOC made it clear in its programme
manual that deviation from the original text would not be welcomed, and further
stated that the English version ‘should be used as a base for translation and interpre-
tations/delivery of message’ (ibid.).
7. Marshal McLuhan, Understanding Media: The Extensions of Man.
8. Friedman, The World is Flat: A Brief History of the Twenty-First Century. That the playing
field was equal is, of course, just a popular fiction. In his book Cosmopolitanism and the
New Geographies of Freedom (52) David Harvey explains Friedman’s ‘flat world’ theory:
‘Friedman’s is a brilliant but hyped-up caricature of the neoliberal worldview that
currently reigns supreme’. That is, to oversimplify, the world is flat, but only for the
cosmopolitan elite engaged in global capitalism – those who benefit most from
private property rights, free markets and free trade. We return to this point later.
9. Moallem and Boal, ‘Multicultural Nationalism and Poetics of Inauguration’, 246–
247. Unlike the melting pot metaphor popularised throughout much of American
history, the concept of a ‘mosaic’ landscape is often popularly characterised
by the bracketing of various racial and ethnic differences, each ‘fracturing into
many separate, disconnected communities with no shared sense of commonality
or purpose’ (Booth, ‘One Nation, Indivisible: Is It History?’, Al). However, and
despite such discussion, national imaginaries (see Anderson, Imagined Communities:
Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism) are usually constructed around
such fractures and thus come to be represented as heterogeneous, yet unified,
nations.
10. Ducille, ‘Dyes and Dolls: Multicultural Barbie and the Merchandising of Difference’.
In the case of ‘Multicultural Barbie’, the extent of her differences are found not in
multiple body types but in their stereotypical markings such as ethnic dress and
exaggerated facial composition.
11. Berlant, The Queen of America Goes to Washington City: Essays on Sex and Citizenship.
12. McGuire, ‘This Time I’ve Come to Bury Cool Britannia’.
13. Woods defined Cablinasian as pieced together from various aspects of his ethnic
background: Caucasian, Black, Indian, and Asian.
14. Tim Finchem, PGA Tour commissioner, as quoted in Cole and Andrews, ‘America’s
New Son: Tiger Woods and America’s Multiculturalism’, 27.
15. Ibid., 33.
16. Denzin, ‘More Rare Air: Michael Jordan on Michael Jordan’.
17. Bruce and Hallinan, ‘Cathy Freeman and the Quest for Australian Identity’. See also
Bruce and Wensing, Chapter 30 in this volume.
18. Housel, ‘Australian Nationalism and Globalization. Narratives of the Nation in the
2000 Sydney Olympics’ Opening Ceremony’, 449, 453.
19. Ibid., 454. In The Best Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of Sydney 2000, Helen Lenskyj
further reminds us that the ‘symbolic reconciliation’ presented to the world
through the Olympic ceremonies and cultural programs was the only evidence of
change on the race relations issue in the months directly following the Sydney
Games.
20. Giardina and Metz, ‘Celebrating Humanity: Olympic Marketing and the
Homogenization of Multiculturalism’.
352 Celebrate Humanity: the Global Branding of ‘Multiculturalism’

21. Maguire et al., ‘Olympic Legacies in the IOC’s “Celebrate Humanity” Campaign:
Ancient or Modern?’; ‘Celebrate Humanity or Consumers? Building Markets,
Constructing Brands, and Glocalising Identities’: ‘Olympism and Consumption: An
Analysis of Advertising in the British Media Coverage of the 2004 Olympic Games’; see
also Lee and Maguire, ‘Global Festivals through a National Prism: The Global–National
Nexus in South Korean Media Coverage of the 2004 Athens Olympic Games’.
22. Garoian and Gaudelius, Spectacle Pedagogy: Art, Politics, and Visual Culture, 24.
23. Ibid.
24. Roche, ‘Putting the London 2012 Olympics into Perspective: The Challenge of
Understanding Mega-events’.
25. By comparison, the 1996 Atlanta Olympics attracted a cumulative viewing audience
of approximately 19.6 billion people spanning 214 countries. The total cumulative
viewing audience of the fabled 1984 Summer Games in Los Angeles was estimated
to be roughly 2 billion (Toohey and Veal, The Olympic Games: A Social Science
Perspective). This was a rise of roughly 17 billion cumulative viewers worldwide since
the 1984 Games in Los Angeles.
26. See, for example, Kenworthy, ‘Salt Lake Shaken by Olympics Scandal’.
27. Riley, ‘Rescue Bid for Olympic Image’, 3; Elliot, ‘Starting Today, a Global Campaign
to Promote the Olympics’, C12.
28. Garfield, ‘Surprisingly, Humanity Wins over Scandal in Olympics Ads’, 101.
29. Ibid., emphasis ours.
30. Each of the four print ads depict inspirational moments in Olympic history, and
feature a solitary black and white photographic image of the athlete juxtaposed
against the white background of the page. According to Melisse Lafrance (‘Colonizing
the Feminine: Nike’s Intersections of Postfeminism and Hyperconsumption’, 129),
this type of presentation, set within the context of a popular magazine overflowing
with colour, ‘makes the ad appear particularly maudlin’. Further, the dual-tonality
of the ad highlights and marks the racial identity of each athlete, especially when
presented alongside contrasting skin tones.
31. The astute reader will no doubt have realised that one especially iconic Olympic
moment – in fact, one of the most iconic moments of the 20th century – is missing
from the Celebrate Humanity campaign: the raised, gloved fists of Tommie Smith and
John Carlos at the 1968 Olympic 200m medal ceremony, with Peter Norman look-
ing on wearing an Olympic Project for Human Rights (OPHR) button. Countering
the widespread charge (at the time) that their actions were anti-American, the
philosopher Cornel West (‘Interview: Arthur Ashe Courage Award’) suggests: ‘A lot
of people thought that was just “Black Power”. No, that was Black people affirming
their dignity. So it wasn’t anti-American; it was anti-injustice in America . . . The fun-
damental lesson of what they did is courage; courage to think for themselves, and
it’s the courage to hope, because what they did; this was a sign of hope, and that’s
a beautiful thing.’ For more on Smith and Carlos, see Douglas Hartmann’s excellent
book Race, Culture, and the Revolt of the Black Athlete: The 1968 Olympic Protests and
Their Aftermath.
32. Denzin, Images of Postmodern Society: Social Theory and Contemporary Cinema, 14.
33. Robbins, ‘Comparative Cosmopolitics’, 252.
34. Friedman, Mappings: Feminism and the Cultural Geographics of Encounter, 252.
35. Hall, ‘The Multi-cultural Question’, 210.
36. Following Hall (ibid.), conservative multiculturalism seeks assimilation of differ-
ence to the majority; liberal multiculturalism seeks a more integrative approach;
pluralist multiculturalism privileges the differences between groups; commercial
 Michael D. Giardina, Jennifer L. Metz and Kyle S. Bunds 353

multiculturalism leaves it to the market to solve problems of cultural difference; cor-

porate multiculturalism seeks to ‘manage minority cultural differences in the inter-
ests of the centre; and critical multiculturalism is concerned with issues of power,
oppression, resistance, and social change.’
37. Ibid.
38. Hutnyk, ‘Adorno at Womad: South Asian Crossovers and the Limits of Hybridity-
talk’, 119 (emphasis in original).
39. Moallem and Boal, ‘Multicultural Nationalism’, 257.
40. Carrington, ‘“Two World Wars and One World Cup, Do, Dah, Do Dah”: Sport and
Multiculturalism in Britain and Western Europe’.
41. Pieterse, Ethnicities and the Global Multiculture: Pants for an Octopus, 125.
42. Carrington, ‘“Two World Wars and One World Cup . . .”’, 2.
43. Ferguson, ‘Marxist Theories of Sport: Nation, Commerce, and Pleasure’, 1, emphasis
added.
44. Maguire et al., ‘Celebrate Humanity or Consumers?. . .’, 67.
45. Ibid., 69.
46. Lee and Maguire, ‘Global Festivals through a National Prism . . .’, 7.
47. Andrews, Sport–Commerce–Culture: Essays on Late-capitalist Sport, 53.
48. Hogan, ‘Staging the Nation: Gendered and Ethnicized Discourses of National
Identity in Olympic Opening Ceremonies’, 115–116.
49. Dyreson, Crafting Patriotism for Global Dominance: America at the Olympics, 72.
50. Ibid.
51. It is understandable that these ads would resonate in that particular political climate;
the copy, particularly that of ‘Adversary’, which contained the lines ‘You are my
adversary, but you are not my enemy’, slid quite easily into utopian projections of
overcoming discord.
52. Ibid. Of note, the 2004 campaign featured a similar recognition spot, which stated,
over the byline of Jacques Rogge: ‘365 days a year, the true spirit of the Games is
demonstrated by our Worldwide Corporate Sponsors. Because our athletes can’t run,
jump or swim until they’re fed, housed and trained. For that, we – and everyone who
loves the Games – owe them our deepest gratitude.’
53. Roche, ‘The Olympics and Global Citizenship’, 168, 172.
54. As with 2000/2002, the 2004 Summer spots were modified with winter sports for use
for the 2006 Torino Winter Games.
55. Customised spots were also produced for airing in specific countries, such as with
Steffi Graf (tennis player) in Germany, Valeri Gergiev (conductor) in Russia; Youngpil
Cho (musician) in South Korea; and Giovane Gavio (volleyball player) in Brazil.
56. See note 8; Harvey, Cosmopolitanism and the New Geographies of Freedom, 52. The
promotion of this neoliberal worldview is further amplified when we consider that
the global reach and scale of the ‘cultural industries’ in connecting, as C. Michael
Elavsky (‘How You Gonna Save Y/our Soul? Tempering Corporate Identity in a
Global Age’, 182) writes, in ‘people viscerally and personally to globalization as dis-
course, process, and experience in unprecedented ways’.
57. Waitt, ‘A Critical Examination of Sydney’s 2000 Olympic Games’, 399.
58. O’Bonsawin, ‘No Olympics on Stolen Native Land: Contesting Olympic Narratives
and Asserting Indigenous Rights within the Discourse of the 2010 Vancouver
Games’, 143.
59. Scholz, ‘The Olympics: Uniting Humanity through National Competition?’.
60. Ong, ‘Cultural Citizenship as Subject-Making: Immigrants Negotiating Racial and
Cultural Boundaries in the United States’, 738.
354 Celebrate Humanity: the Global Branding of ‘Multiculturalism’

61. Sanli, ‘Public Sphere and Symbolic Power: “Women’s Voice” as a Case of Cultural
Citizenship’, 283.
62. Zirin, ‘Interview with Amy Goodman’.
63. Bowden, ‘The Perils of Global Citizenship’, 360.
64. Ibid.
65. Ibid. This narrative is neither simple nor straightforward; rather, it is the layered
articulation of global commodity chains advanced by the interconnectedness of
social and economic flows across transnational boundaries.
66. Elavsky, ‘How You Gonna save Y/our Soul?’, 177.
67. Roy, Power Politics, 7.
68. For those looking for a good overview of this development, Naomi Klein’s work is
an excellent starting point, especially No Logo and The Shock Doctrine.

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22
The Paralympic Movement:
Empowerment or Disempowerment
for People with Disabilities?
Otto J. Schantz and Keith Gilbert

Empowerment for the most impaired Athletes is still a dream. By questioning the
validity of the practice of sport for disabled, we will at least make inroads into treating
the impaired as normal1

Introduction

Disabled sports, whether as leisure activities, rehabilitation or fitness-related

exercises, or as competitive entities, have become widely accepted in today’s
society, and recently they were universally promoted under the UN human
rights umbrella. Indeed, people with disabilities in almost all cultural spheres in
the world have become emancipated and as such the disability sports movement
has attempted to follow this evolutionary process. In 2003 the International
Paralympic Committee began to promote their ‘new vision’ which was ‘to
enable Paralympic athletes to achieve sporting excellence and inspire and excite
the world’.2 We can agree with this vision but questions need to be raised as to
whether the Paralympic movement and the Paralympic Games really contribute
to the emancipation and empowerment of people with disabilities. In other
words, are the stakeholders of the International Paralympic Committee follow-
ers or leaders? And does the Paralympic movement serve the struggle for justice
and equal treatment for people with a disability? In this chapter we will question
and deconstruct the above issues and ask whether the Paralympic movement is
empowering or disempowering the community of people with disabilities.

Storytelling: helping the helpless

In almost all historical narratives about the origins of the Paralympic Games
we are told that in July 1948, at the same time when the Games of the XIVth
Olympiad opened in London, the neurosurgeon Ludwig Guttmann organised
a small sports competition for 16 Second World War veterans with spinal cord

358
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 Otto J. Schantz and Keith Gilbert 359

injuries at Stoke Mandeville hospital in England.3 This was the birth of the
Stoke Mandeville Games which were at the origin of this mega-sport event
which we nowadays call the Paralympic Games. Dr Guttmann played an
important role in the history of the Paralympic movement and the modern
disabled sport movement owes much to his efforts as founder and director of
the National Spinal Injuries Unit in Stoke Mandeville. In his daily contact with
veterans with injured spines, Guttmann noted the benefits of sport activities
in the improvement of the veterans’ psychological attitudes and social life. His
vision was that ‘one day the Stoke Mandeville Games would achieve world
fame as the disabled men and women’s equivalent of the Olympic Games’.4
This contest, which he initiated just after the Second World War at the Ministry
of Pensions Hospital in Stoke Mandeville in the southern British county of
Buckinghamshire, has grown to become one of the largest multi-sports events
in the world. However, by focusing almost exclusively on Guttmann most of
those discourses describing the origins of these games downplay the role of
people with disabilities in organising their own sporting activities.5
Historically there have been sports competitions for people with different
disabilities since the middle of the 19th century. However, these early com-
petitions for people with physical disabilities often resembled ‘freak’ shows
rather than serious sporting events.6 More recently, towards the end of the 19th
century, the first groups of people with sensorial disabilities (visual impair-
ments and deafness) started to organise their own serious sport activities with
some success. The World Games for the Deaf, or International Silent Games,
began in Paris in 1924 and were run by deaf people. Why then has more not
been made of the people with disabilities organising their own sports activi-
ties and programs? Perhaps the answer lies in the historical background of the
Games. Despite the fact, that the Paralympic movement is a rather recent sport
phenomenon compared to other sports movements, it has undergone tremen-
dous changes in the last 20 years. These developments have run in parallel
with the societal treatment of people with disabilities and been dominated by
particular bio-political strategies and the power of the medical profession7 to
define physical activities for people with disabilities. Disabled athletes were
merely seen as competing in sport as a means of injury or congenital rehabilita-
tion and adapted physical activities and disabled sports were seen as part of the
medical field for quite a long time. More recently the treatment of people with
disabilities has shifted from the medical paradigm towards social, bio-social or
cultural models, but despite the emancipation process undergone by people
with disabilities, the strong influence of medical power is still perceptible in
the Paralympic movement and just a cursory look at the classification process,
which we deal with later in this chapter, will attest to this.
We argue here that Paralympic sport has been largely dominated by able-
bodied (male and Western) leaders, who have in many ways neglected the role
360 The Paralympics

of athletes with disabilities, and consequently the narratives on the origins of

the Paralympic movement have become rather disempowering for the com-
munities of people with disabilities. This disempowerment highlights the
perceived helplessness and dependence of people with disabilities by construct-
ing and promoting mythical, paternal personalities like Ludwig Guttmann,
who through the medium of sport, has appeared to be synonymous as an
individual who ‘helped the helpless’.8
In 1952, four years after the first Stoke Mandeville Games, Guttmann
founded the International Stoke Mandeville Games Federation (ISMGF) which
later came to be known as the International Stoke Mandeville Wheelchair Sport
Federation for wheelchair athletes. Eight years later, in 1960 in Rome, one of
Guttmann’s dreams came true: the ties between the Olympic Games and the
International Stoke Mandeville Games became stronger with the two events
taking place one week apart in the same city. As such the Rome Games are con-
sidered to be the first Paralympic Games, even though they were exclusively
reserved for wheelchair athletes. Progressively these Games opened up to the
athletes with amputation, and visual disabilities (Toronto 1976), with cerebral
palsy (Arnhem 1980) and to the category ‘les autres’, the ‘other’ athletes with
disabilities (Stoke Mandeville 1984). In a context of a general emancipation
process of the people with disabilities, the sport movement for these people
has grown quickly. In Rome in 1960, 400 athletes from 23 nations participated
in the first Paralympic Games. Forty years later, in 2000, at the 11th edition of
these Games in Sydney, there were almost ten times more participants (3824)
coming from 122 countries (plus one delegation from East Timor). In Athens
there were over 4000 athletes. It is predicted that in London 2012 there will be
close to 6000 athletes.
In March 1982 the International Coordinating Committee (ICC) of World
Sports Organizations for the Disabled was formed to coordinate efforts in
organising athletes with disabilities. The founding of the ICC was an attempt
to create an organisation gathering all athletes with disabilities under the dis-
tinct umbrellas of particular organisations. However, this committee had no
judicial authority or statutes and did not have the mandate to represent sport
for people with disabilities in dealings with international organisations such as
the IOC or UNESCO.
During a Seminar in Arnhem in 1987, the national disability federations tired
of disputes between the different federations and anxious to be able to partici-
pate in decisions at international level, requested that a federation be created
to represent and provide overall control of all the different types of disabilities.
The result of this debate led to the foundation of the International Paralympic
Committee (IPC) on 22 September 1989 as an international non-profit organi-
sation. Currently, the IPC is run by 163 National Paralympic Committees
(NPCs) from five regions and four disability-specific international sports
 Otto J. Schantz and Keith Gilbert 361

federations (the Cerebral Palsy International Sports and Recreation Association

[CPISRA], the International Blind Sports Federation [IBSA], the International
Sports Federation for Persons with an Intellectual Disability [INAS–FID] and the
International Wheelchair and Amputee Sports Federation [IWAS]).
As mentioned previously, the history and management of the Paralympic
Games has been and currently is largely dominated by the able-bodied.9
Despite some very active and visionary former athletes like Hans Lindström
and Rick Hansen, the first president of the IPC, Robert Steadward, and the first
vice-president, Reiner Krippner, were both able-bodied leaders. A part of the
problem here is to what extent these able-bodied individuals really understand
what it means to be a disabled athlete, or indeed an able-bodied athlete. And
are they truly qualified to work in the area? Do they possess the management
skills to promote the movement? Moreover, are many individuals involved in
the Paralympic Movement because it enhances their own career profile and
allows them access to foreign travel and to benefit of elite sport and even prox-
imity to the Olympic agenda? The narratives of the Paralympic Games are in
many ways littered with stories of patronising attitudes toward athletes with
disabilities and there have been numerous incidents demonstrating the dis-
empowerment of the Paralympic athletes. For example, athletes were literally
treated like children in Atlanta 1996, when they wanted to protest with regard
to second-class treatment by the organisers, and in Barcelona 1992, when they
sought to retain the existing Paralympic logo despite an IOC threat to cut
subventions if the IPC didn’t change its logo which the IOC considered to be
too similar to the five Olympic rings. It is interesting to note that almost all
managers, medical staff and coaches attached to Paralympic teams across the
world are able-bodied and are seldom involved in Paralympic sport for very
long periods of time. Many stay only for one Games period. This is also in evi-
dence with the respective OCOGs who organise and run the Paralympic Games
as most all OCOG volunteers are able-bodied. We wonder, how many volun-
teers at London 2012 will be classed as having a disability? What we perhaps
need is more involvement in disability and Paralympic sport by individuals
with a disability or does the presence of able-bodied people in the sport provide
it with some sense of Olympic normality, community and media credibility?

The Olympics versus the Paralympics

We begin this section by asking the following two important questions. Is the
Paralympic Games riding on the back of the Olympics? And, indeed, if the
Olympics did not precede the Paralympics then would the IPC have enough
clout to organise resources, volunteers, stadia and transport to the Games? We
answer Yes and No respectively to the above questions and these are strong indi-
cations of the lack of funding associated with the Paralympics and also of the
362 The Paralympics

lesser importance afforded to the event by society, as compared to the Olympic

Games. The history of the Paralympic movement also highlights its complex
relationship with the Olympic movement. Indeed, over the years the small,
marginal sport movement for people with disabilities has been dominated and
controlled, arguably, by the gigantic and prosperous Olympic movement.
It was not by coincidence that the first competition organised by Guttmann
at Stoke Mandeville hospital took place at the same moment as the opening
ceremonies of the Games of the XIVth Olympiad which were celebrated just
35 miles away in London. This had a strong symbolic meaning. Since its very
beginning, the Paralympic movement was attracted by the Olympic Games
and strove for ‘Olympic Status and recognition’.10 The dream of Guttmann as
well as that of many Paralympians and Paralympic sports leaders was to join
the Olympic movement. They called their games ‘Olympics for the Paralysed’,
‘Olympics for the Disabled’, ‘Torontolympiad’ and ‘Paralympic Games’; these
expressions illustrate this Olympic aspiration.
According to the official discourse of the Paralympic movement today, the
term Paralympic is a combination of the words ‘parallel’ and ‘Olympics’ and
the Paralympic Games are Games parallel to the Olympic Games. However,
at its origin the notion ‘Paralympic’ was an amalgamation of ‘paraplegic’ and
‘Olympics’.11 But are these two Games really parallel or similar? The short
answer is No.
In order to understand the problematical relationship between the Olympic
and the Paralympic movement it is useful to have a look at the different philo-
sophical or ideological foundations of Olympism and Paralympism. Indeed,
the reasons and ideals underlying the creation of these movements are quite
dissimilar. According to Pierre de Coubertin, founder of the modern Olympic
Games, ‘the primary, fundamental characteristics of ancient Olympism, and of
modern Olympism as well, is that it is a religion’;12 he called it a ‘religio athletae’,
an athlete’s religion.13 According to him the Olympic athletes were an ‘aris-
tocratie sportive’, a ‘sporting aristocracy’.14 Olympism is based on educational
and ethical values like body–mind harmony, will-power, fair play, mutual
respect and so on. It aims at universalism, peace and mutual understanding;
it includes arts and aesthetics. Coubertin regarded sports as an educational
means and from the outset the Olympic movement was based on fundamental
educational and ethical values. The Paralympics have no such philosophical,
educational or ethical values with which it can compete with the Olympics.
For example, if you ask the IPC for its sustainability, education or legacy plans
they would be hard pressed to provide data which can be written into academic
or practical situations. Mostly it appears to rely on the Olympics for its guide-
lines and more recently its publications.
Sir Ludwig Guttmann, the ‘Coubertin of the Paralyzed’ as Pope John XXIII
called him,15 considered sports as a means of rehabilitation, recreation and
 Otto J. Schantz and Keith Gilbert 363

social integration for people with disabilities. He wanted to ‘transform a

severely disabled person into a taxpayer’.16 During Guttmann’s time as a leader
of disability sport the medical paradigm dominated disabled sport. Only since
the 1990s has the Paralympic movement shifted into the top sport/show sport
paradigm and tried to copy its big Olympic brother.
Olympism has a genuine tradition. It is a philosophy of life, a symbiosis
drawing on Greek and Anglo-Saxon educational ideas and philosophy.
Paralympism, on the other hand, has invented and copied such traditions and
symbols to try to make itself more Olympic in nature. It is only recently that
the IPC decided to think about visions and missions; until 2003, the movement
had no ideology, no fundamental principles, no expressed philosophy, and no
written goals except the promotion of integration. In March 2003, aware of
its lack of ideological foundations, the IPC Executive Committee developed a
‘New Vision’ for the IPC. This was: ‘To Enable Paralympic Athletes to Achieve
Sporting Excellence and Inspire and Excite the World.’17 The IPC considers as
its primary role to create ‘the conditions for athlete empowerment through
self-determination’.18
The visions and goals of the IOC are much broader than those of the IPC; in
the preamble of its charter the IOC states that:

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 and respect for universal fundamen-
tal ethical principles.
2. The goal of Olympism is to place sport at the service of the harmonious
development of man, with a view to promoting a peaceful society con-
cerned with the preservation of human dignity.19

The IPC activities focus on the Paralympic athlete and his or her sporting
excellence. Even though it wants ‘to inspire and excite the world’ and to make
a ‘contribution to a better world’, the better world it wants seems to be only ‘for
all people with a disability’.20 The IOC’s motto ‘citius, altius, fortius’ goes back to
the educator Father Didon, a friend of Pierre de Coubertin; the new motto of
the IPC, ‘Spirit in Motion’, was created by the public relations firm Scholz and
Friends21 and is rather vague and empty compared to the IOC motto.
Although the Paralympic movement tries hard to increase its symbolic
capital in order to convert it into economic capital, it will probably never
reach the prestige of the Olympic movement. The product the IOC is selling
fits the demand of average sport consumers well. It sells a world-wide mediated
mega-event that presents enchanting stories and values, as well as images of
young, beautiful, powerful, gracious and healthy athletes; it sells the myth of
364 The Paralympics

a sport event capable of creating a peaceful and better world. The Paralympic
movement is still a communal movement which is united by a common iden-
tity, a common culture based on disability, even though it seeks to be an elite
sport organisation focusing on sporting excellence. The product the IPC tries to
sell is quite different from that of the IOC and sport consumers are much less
eager to buy it. For the average consumer sport is generally associated with the
notions of health, vitality, ability, power and independence while disability is
stereotypically related to the labels of illness, invalidity, disability, helplessness
and dependence. The territory of the Olympic sportsmen and women is the
stadium but the territory of the people with disabilities is the special institu-
tion or the hospital.22 Unfortunately this kind of labelling is still alive in many
people’s minds. This is certainly the most important reason why sponsors are
reluctant to engage with disabled sport, as they don’t want to be associated
with such negative labelling. For example, once the Olympics are over in
London 2012 there will be an immediate and mass exit of business and the
discontinuation of marketing tools such as hospitality houses and the world
will again see the lack of importance of the Paralympic Games to society.
The attitudes towards the Paralympic movement are often ambiguous: on
the one hand, people admire the will-power and the prowess of Paralympians
and consider them as heroic in overcoming their difficulties; on the other, they
feel pity for these sportsmen and women. While the Olympic Games are a kind
of social Darwinism in the sports arena, promoting the survival of the fittest,
the Paralympic Games have evolved in a space of liminality23 lodged firmly in-
between a tough and bellicose sport spectacle and a charity event and always
following in second position at least nine days after the main event.
By disseminating and perpetuating standards of physical beauty, fitness and
absolute performance, the Olympics contribute to the exclusion of persons
with disabilities, thus promoting an ableist world view. The space between
the two sets of athletes and Games is very wide. On the one hand we have
the world’s physical elite and on the other the world’s physically disabled.
At this juncture therefore we must ask the important question: Is there such
a thing as an elite disabled athlete? The Olympics and Paralympics are in a
binary opposition which is hierarchical in nature. Indeed as long as sporting
performance is only recognised in absolute and quantitative terms, reflecting
the mainstream philosophy of our Western competitive world, all people who
are part of other than the very top category will automatically be marginalised.
Sportsmen and to an even greater extent sportswomen in the disabled category
will continue to be positioned as second-class athletes and at the bottom of the
world’s physical elite scale. According to Peter Kell and collaborators they will
be the losers in a sports world based on ‘free enterprise’ that ‘contradicts the
importance of the state structures to support the needs of the disabled where
the market forces repeatedly fail them in all spheres of life’.24
 Otto J. Schantz and Keith Gilbert 365

Struggle for, and the end of, integration

In 1957 the IOC awarded the Stoke Mandeville Games the Fearnley Cup for
meritorious achievement in the service of the Olympic movement. When
Ludwig Guttmann received this Olympic award from the British IOC member
Sir Arthur Porritt he mentioned in his vote of thanks that one of his cher-
ished dreams was to look forward ‘to the day when disabled athletes would be
allowed to compete in the Olympic Games’.25 When he passed away in 1980
Guttmann had not witnessed his dream coming quite so close to reality as it
would become in the next 20 years. In 1983 the International Coordinating
Committee that represented four disabled sports organisations (ISOD, IBSA,
ISMGF, CP–ISRA) met Juan Antonio Samaranch, at this time president of the
IOC. During the meeting the IOC President emphasised that there would be no
way that the IOC would allow the use of the word Olympic, as, for example,
in the term ‘Olympic Games for the Disabled’. In return for this renunciation
Samaranch proposed that the IOC would probably offer:

1. Patronage,
2. Use of the Olympic rings for the disabled main sport event held every
four years,
3. Financial aid of approximately US$10,000–$20,000,
4. The possibility of organising a demonstration tournament during the
1988 Olympic Games,
5. A request to the National Olympic Committees of the world to try to
form a Federation for the handicapped with the same rights as the other
federations.26

Patronage by the IOC thus meant exerting power and control over the IPC.
Finally, the IOC also forbade the use of the Olympic rings and even the use of
the five Tae-Geuk symbols arranged similarly to the Olympic rings, with the same
five-colour set, which, inspired by Korean symbolism, the IPC had adopted as its
symbol since the 1988 Games in Seoul. The IOC threatened to cut its monetary
support if the IPC didn’t change its logo since it was considered to be too similar
to the Olympic one. The IPC finally conceded to these demands, as otherwise it
would have been financially ruined. However, Samaranch’s promise to allow the
organisation of a demonstration event during the 1988 Olympic Games was ful-
filled even earlier. After further negotiation a 1500m men’s and a 800m women’s
wheelchair racing event was included in the athletics program of the 1984 Los
Angeles Summer Games and events in alpine and Nordic skiing (1988 only) for
athletes with disabilities were also held as demonstration sports at the Winter
Olympics 1984 in Sarajevo and again in 1988 in Calgary. Indeed, the wheelchair
racing events were part of the Olympic program until the Games in Athens 2004.
366 The Paralympics

The IOC claims to promote sport ‘without discrimination of any kind’.27

However, it refused full Olympic medal status to these demonstration wheel-
chair events. This could be considered as discrimination against people with
disabilities. During the Sydney Games in 2000, Caroline Overington, a journa-
list on the Sydney Morning Herald asked: ‘A tricky question, sport fans: what is
the difference between a wheelchair and a bike? Why didn’t Louise Sauvage [an
Australian wheelchair racer] get a full Olympic medal after winning the 800m
wheelchair race in Sydney?’ It is clear that the IOC were calling the shots in
relation to the running of the Paralympic Games at that time.
In the early 1990s the IPC attempted to get full Olympic medal status for
these demonstration events; and in October 1994, during a meeting with the
IOC Executive Board and representatives of the Association of the National
Olympic Committees (ANOC), the president of the IPC Robert Steadward raised
the problem of integration and stated that discrimination ‘was not acceptable in
either spirit or in practice on the basis of disability. Discrimination on the basis
of disability was no different and was as objectionable as discrimination on the
basis of race, color, sex, religion or politics’.28 However, this plea was ignored.
Previously, in 1990, the IPC had formed an International Committee on the
Integration of Disabled Athletes that later was renamed the Commission for the
Inclusion of Athletes with Disabilities. This commission, under the leadership of
the Canadian Paralympian and activist Rick Hansen, tried to find strategies to
include disabled sport in the Olympic Games and the mainstream sport movement
in general. In actuality for some Games these inclusion efforts have been quite
successful. Disabled sport competitions were awarded full medal status in events
like the Commonwealth Games, Goodwill Games and the Pan-Pacific Swimming
Championships. However, all proposals and efforts to foster inclusion of athletes
with disabilities in the Olympic Games failed.29 Since 2008 there have been no
further wheelchair races as demonstration sports in the Olympic program.
The late IOC President Samaranch was a clever diplomat who convinced the
IPC of its importance by offering good (financial and symbolic) arguments for
the IPC to stay apart and to celebrate their ‘parallel’ event. In order to keep
the Paralympic movement out of the Olympic Games, Samaranch invited it
to come as close as possible, but without letting it in. In October 2000, one of
his very last actions as IOC President was to sign an agreement of cooperation
between the IPC and the IOC, which drew the principles of the further rela-
tionships between the two movements closer.
A further agreement was signed in 2001, adjusted in 2003 and extended in
2006. This agreement secured the practice of ‘one bid, one city’ which meant
that the organising of the Paralympic Games now had to be automatically
included in bids for the Olympic Games. The adjustments and the extensions
of this agreement ensured that the Organizing Committees for the Olympic
and Paralympic Games in 2008, 2010 and 2012 pay the IPC a certain amount
 Otto J. Schantz and Keith Gilbert 367

of money for broadcasting and marketing related to the 2008, 2010, 2012, 2014
and 2016 Paralympic Games.30 This agreement definitely sealed the existence
of two different games, which means de facto the exclusion of athletes with a
disability from the Olympic Games.

The ambiguity of popular perceptions of the Paralympics

Since 1988 the major event of contemporary Paralympic sport – the

Paralympic Games – has gone from being a pastime enjoyed by the per-
formers to a spectacle that has attracted increasing media attention […] the
Games receive a significant amount of media coverage, especially bearing in
mind that little media attention is paid to sport for the disabled in between
the quadrennial Games.31

At present, the Paralympics is the second largest multi-sport event in the world
behind the ‘traditional’ Olympic Games. However, studies have shown that
media coverage is still substantially less than that for the Olympic Games.32
Studies in the 1990s indicated that the quality and quantity of print media
coverage of people with disabilities were of a low standard and the media
often portrayed disabled people unrealistically and stereotypically.33 Longmore
explained these stereotypical media portrayals as a reflection of the public’s
fears and anxieties. He stated: ‘We harbor un-spoken anxieties about the pos-
sibilities of disablement, to us or to someone close to us. What we fear we often
stigmatize and shun and sometimes seek to destroy.’34
As early as 1985 Zola35 observed that in films people with disabilities were
most often portrayed as victims, relatively seldom as heroes or villains, two
metaphorical traits that can also be found in disability sports coverage.36
Nelson listed seven major stereotypes as they were shown in the American
media: the person with disabilities as ‘pitiable and pathetic’,37 as ‘supercrip’,38
as ‘sinister, evil, and criminal’,39 as ‘better-off dead’,40 as ‘maladjusted’,41 as a
‘burden’,42 and as ‘unable to live a successful life’.43 From a semiological per-
spective Woodill44 distinguished different types of metaphors of disabilities
in popular cultures, including newspaper presentations: the humanitarian
(‘disability as misfortune’), the medical (‘disability as sickness’), the outsider
(‘disabled person as Other’), the religious (‘disability as divine plan’), the ret-
ribution (‘disability as punishment’), the social control (‘disability as threat’),
and the zoological metaphor (‘disability person as pet, disability as entertain-
ment’).45 Of interest here is the fact that Clogston46 divided newspaper cover-
age of people with disabilities in two distinct types: the traditional and the
progressive models. The traditional model ‘views persons with disabilities as
dysfunctional in a medical or economic way’47 and as such they must be cared
for medically or economically by society. Another attitude of the traditional
368 The Paralympics

perspective is to regard them as ‘super crips’48 for the way they master their
fates.49
The progressive model views ‘the major limiting aspect of a person’s disability
as lying in society’s inability to adapt its physical, social, or occupational envi-
ronment as well as its attitudes to accept those who are physically different’.50
A progressive coverage of people with disability would consider individuals as
different, accepting their otherness as part of a cultural pluralism and thereby
applying a pluralistic rationality,51 whereas the traditional discourse considers
individuals with a disability as different and inferior to the hegemonic main-
stream, thus exerting an excluding rationality.52
When representing sports, the mass media in general emphasises action,
records, elite performances, aggression, heroic actions, drama, emotions and
celebrities (sport stars). However, the newspapers also focus on performances,
results, statistics and behind-the-scenes stories. Photos capture celebrities,
actions and emotions.53 Along with this, newspaper sport reporting emphasises
a number of important general news values, for example the frequency criterion
embracing a continuing activity, or simplicity, deriving from the straightfor-
wardness of winning or losing. Sports then are ‘consistent with expectations,
their script follows a familiar pattern’54 and at the same time the unexpected
outcome creates excitement.55 Another inherent condition of sport coverage
involves play and competition between nations, which allows the newsworthy
reporting of ethnocentric issues. Sport personalities are depicted as celebrities
and as such are often cast to the forefront of public interest. Sport is organised
conflict with losers and winners, all of which can be highlighted in the press.
Negativity, which is another important news value, can thus be represented by
‘bad guys’ who take drugs or individuals who abuse the referee.56
Studies relating to media coverage of Paralympic Games are still rare. However,
Enting57 compared the Atlanta Paralympics coverage in a nationwide, a regional
and a tabloid German newspaper. These newspapers accorded respectively
10 per cent, 7.5 per cent and 0.3 per cent of their sports pages to this event.
Schell and Duncan58 made a content analysis of American television coverage of
the Atlanta Paralympics and found that beside some empowering comments59
athletes were portrayed as ‘victims of misfortune, as different, as Other’.60 They
observed an absence of sport-specific commentaries, like information about
rules, comments on strategies or physical abilities. Contrary to Olympic cover-
age, where defeats were considered as catastrophes,61 the defeats of Paralympic
athletes were described from patronising perspectives.62 Extraordinary per-
formances were portrayed as heroic achievements by using the ‘super crip’
stereotype.63 According to Shapiro64 this ‘super crip’ myth harms average
people with disabilities because it suggests that only heroic performances of
persons with disabilities should be respected. It is interesting, when referring
to the Paralympic ideals, that Schell and Duncan found that ‘war and the hope
 Otto J. Schantz and Keith Gilbert 369

for peace among people of different nationalities was a recurrent theme’ and
that ‘spectators were shown the debilitating results of war and the political
barriers that may be dissolved through friendly sport competition’.65 Schantz
and Gilbert66 analysed French and German newspapers covering the Atlanta
Paralympic Games and found that disabled athletes were still marginalised by
the media. In general, media coverage of the Paralympic Games downgrades the
Paralympic athletes as they do not meet the socially constructed ideals of physi-
cality, masculinity and sexuality which, according to Karin DePauw, represent
three key aspects of sport. She defines physicality as the ‘socially accepted view
of able bodied physical ability’, masculinity includes ‘aggression, independence,
strength, courage’ and sexuality is defined as the ‘socially expected and accepted
view of sexual behavior’.67 Concerning the key aspects of sexuality and physical-
ity it is widely believed that, even more than sexual behaviour or physical abil-
ity, appearance in the form of stereotyped erotic attractiveness of the sporting
body, especially the female body, plays an important role in the media coverage
of sports.68 A striking example is beach volleyball where sexual attractiveness is
emphasised by specific official rules and regulations limiting the covered surface
of the female body. It could be argued, therefore, that female athletes with a
disability are exposed to a form of ‘threefold discrimination’, as in general they
do not fit the social constructs of able-bodied athletes, including those of mas-
culinity and sexual attractiveness.
The print media coverage of sport for individuals with disabilities appears to
privilege some specific types of disabilities: the main group of individuals with
a physical disability, which was by far the most over-represented, is the wheel-
chair fraternity.69 This is perhaps because the public’s perception of the athlete
with disabilities is historically that of individuals in wheelchairs. Lachal, who
analysed regional French newspapers from 1977 and 1988 found that in 1988
about half (49 per cent) of the articles about disabilities concerned physical
(motor) disabilities, 29 per cent disability in general, 11.5 per cent sensorial
disabilities, 7 per cent intellectual deficiencies, and 3.5 per cent ‘other’ dis-
abilities.70 Topics concerning athletes with a mental disability figured rarely
in L’Équipe,71 studied by Schantz and Marty.72 In their content analysis of TV
coverage of the Atlanta Games, Schell and Duncan73 found that CBS featured
less visible, war-induced or acquired disabilities more often than others.
Gender-biased reporting in the media is another important area which
requires further research in the Paralympic arena. A great number of research-
ers have focused on gender-biased media coverage.74 In an analysis of German
newspaper coverage of the Olympics from 1952 to 1980, Pfister75 found that for
female Olympic participants appearance (‘beauty’) was of ‘central importance’.
Tuggle and Owen76 examined the amount of NBC’s coverage given to female
athletes at the 1996 Olympic Games and found that only women’s individual
events were covered extensively while the coverage of team competitions
370 The Paralympics

focused much more on men. Female athletes with a disability are in fact
subjected to multiple discrimination concerning gender, disability severity and
race.77 Analyses undertaken of the 1996 Paralympics by Sherill78 and Schell and
Duncan79 confirmed greater discrimination against female Paralympians than
their male counterparts. Qualitative and quantitative coverage improved in the
last years, especially TV coverage in some countries like Germany, where 100
hours of the Beijing Paralympics were broadcast by public TV stations (but not
during prime time). In some countries these Games weren’t broadcast at all or,
as for example in France, the time was limited to seven or eight minutes a day.
In any case, there is no doubt that the coverage of the Paralympic Games is far
behind the coverage of the Olympic Games.
The motivation and perceptions of Paralympic spectators are very heteroge-
neous as Reichhart and collaborators describe it. In Athens 2006 they varied
‘from that of an engineer who travelled 2000 miles to visit the Games, and
who just wanted to take photos of the facilities and who refused to watch any
Paralympic competition, which is for him “no great sport”, to a 22-year-old art
student . . . [who] went as much as possible to the Paralympic Games, as she
considered these Games much more pure and emotionally charged than the
over-commercialized Olympics’.80
Ethnographic observations in Sydney 2000 indicated that for some events
like the wheelchair basketball spectators behaved like sports spectators, while
for other events like the boccia [a ball game for athletes with severe disabilities]
competitions their behaviour was more like that of visitors at a freak-show.81
The number of Paralympic spectators announced by the organising commit-
tees has to be considered with caution. Often the stadiums are filled with
school classes like in Athens or with special offers for elderly people and it is
not always because of interest in the Paralympics that these kinds of spectators
attend the Games.

Classification

One of the biggest problems internal to the Paralympics and, in the final
analysis, one of the most disempowering issues facing disabled sport is the
notion of classification. To classify means to include and to exclude, to estab-
lish rankings. In order to guarantee fair and interesting sport competitions,
sports organisations establish rules to bring contestants with similar winning
potential together. Rankings, leagues and classes based on physical prowess and
skills can be considered to be sport-specific. Classifications or rankings based
on proxy variables like age, gender or ability/disability are political acts that
lead to segregation and are often discriminatory and disempowering.
Classifying human beings on the basis of their abilities or disabilities can
be seen as dehumanising, degrading and humiliating. According to the
 Otto J. Schantz and Keith Gilbert 371

anthropologist and former Paralympian David Howe the process of classification

‘is an alienating experience, as each time a different set of individuals determines
whether your body fits into the textbook of carnal typology that is acceptable to
those who govern the particular element of Paralympic sport that the athletes
wish to be a part’.82 Classification is a crude form of governmentality of the
athlete’s bodies, a technology of dominance over the body.83
Since the IPC tries to replicate its big brother the IOC and wants to increase its
media audience and the marketability of its Games, it promotes the functional
classification that pretends to classify the athletes according to their sporting
potential, independent of their degree and kind of impairment. The intention of
the integrated functional classification system is to reduce classes and thus make
the Paralympic Games more spectator and media-friendly. This form of classifi-
cation doesn’t necessarily fit the needs of the practice community: the athletes.84
In particular, athletes with a severe impairment are excluded, as they do not com-
ply with the commercial logic of a spectacular and marketable show. It may lead to
the paradox that athletes who, according to the very logic of sports, train hard to
improve their performances, but risk being penalised for their efforts by being clas-
sified in superior classes, where they will have no possible chance of winning.
By replacing the traditional disabled sport that celebrated equality and par-
ticipation over performance and by adopting the logic of high-performance
sport, the IPC excludes a great part of the disabled community. The Olympic
Games, the biggest showcase of high-performance sport, also excludes the
high performers with disabilities, and the Paralympic movement, the biggest
showcase of disabled sports, also excludes the athletes with disabilities who
do not fit into the commercial agenda. This situation is neither empowering
for those athletes who consider themselves as high-performance athletes first,
nor for those who want to enjoy practising sports and competitions within the
international community of people with disabilities.

Conclusion

Sport can certainly contribute to the empowerment of certain successful indi-

vidual athletes and helps them to leave the ‘disability ghetto’.85 However, these
sportsmen and women are a very small fringe of the community of people with
disabilities; they are the super-crips and only a small percentage of persons
with disabilities are likely to take them as role models.
Two separate Games risk reinforcing the separation between able-bodied ath-
letes and those with disabilities; or, as Goggin and Newell86 argue, ‘the existence
of a special event for people identified as having disability is a painful reminder
of inequity and injustice, and its presence perpetuates the discourse of “special
needs” and “special events”’. As long as the Olympic motto ‘faster, higher,
stronger’ rules elite sport, it will be difficult to persuade society that becoming
372 The Paralympics

a Paralympian will class the disabled athlete as a ‘Parallel Olympian’. Indeed,

Paralympic athletes can forget about linking themselves with the Olympic
movement as long as we still have the oxymoronic situation that perceives
disabled athletes as working within the structures of an organisation selling
itself as a vehicle for peace and understanding, as well as providing sport at the
very highest level of human performance. Clearly the IPC and the Parlympics
Movement do not fit into this mould.87 The standards of play and performances
in Paralympic sports will always be measured against the ‘norms’ of Olympic
sports. Without fundamental change, there will always be the glamorous first-
class Games for the very best and then the second-class Games for the brave
Paralympians who have overcome their ‘terrible fate’. In our sport-frenetic soci-
ety physical prowess often becomes an indicator of a person’s value, not only
in sport but also in other domains. By separating elite sport in a category for
able-bodied and disabled sport we risk perpetuating the image of the less valu-
able disabled and as such disempowering the whole community of individuals
with disabilities. The UN Convention on the Rights of Persons with Disabilities
in 2008 reaffirmed that these people have human rights and that they should
be able to enjoy them on an equal basis with non-disabled people. In most
societies there is a strong political will to realise this convention and to include
people with disabilities as much as possible. The only field where exclusion
seems to be taken for granted is the domain of top-level sport. Will it one day
be possible to demolish the last bastions of unequal treatment of persons with
disabilities by rendering high-level sport accessible for inclusive competitions?
Laura Kaminker, an American journalist, states: ‘[the] . . . segregation, even if
necessary, results in stigma, making the disability-sports movement a victim of
its own success and diversity.’88 But what could be done to avoid this?
Top-level athletes with disabilities, like the South African Oscar Pistorius,
the ‘fastest man on no legs’, need accessibility to able-bodied sport instead of
discrimination and exclusion. If you ask the American runner Marla Runyan
about her greatest success, probably she will not mention her five Paralympic
gold medals, but her 8th place in the 1500m final of the Sydney Olympics,
and by accommodating certain sports to the need of people with disabilities
this could be achieved in many cases. By changing the rules and/or the equip-
ment some sports could be made accessible to athletes with disabilities.89 New
sports which allow athletes with and without disabilities to compete side by
side should be included in the Olympic Program. One example is the swim-
ming events in Sydney 2000 Olympics, when an optic signal was added to the
acoustical departure signal in order to allow fair competition for a participating
swimmer with deafness. Why not consider the wheelchair as a piece of sports
equipment just like the bicycle? Wheelchair sports could be included as full
medal sports, open to able-bodied athletes. The same could be done in the
Winter Games with sled-skiing. There are different examples of sport which
 Otto J. Schantz and Keith Gilbert 373

could easily be rendered accessible for people with disabilities, like powerlifting,
shooting, archery, sailing or tandem cycling.90
To improve the accessibility of mainstream sport through accommodation
and adaptation of sports is the only way to real inclusion without discrimina-
tion.91 All kinds of categorising build up hierarchical, hegemonic structures and
thus lead to marginalisation in a sports model which values only the absolute
best, the often quoted citius – altius – fortius. The fact of having two Games, one
for the Olympians and one for the Paralympians, promotes an ableist view that
considers the able-bodied as the norm of top-level sports.
The IOC should give equal access to the Olympic Games for excellent
athletes from the whole range of humankind without any discrimination as
stipulated in the Olympic Charter in order to stick to its claim of universalism.
The IOC can no longer exclude or discriminate an important part of humanity.
The IPC should conserve and develop the Paralympic Games as a showcase of
sporting culture for people with disabilities. It should develop the Paralympic
Movement/Games as an alternative sports culture which meets the needs of all
people with disabilities, but keep integration and inclusion as a main objective.
It should try to go its own way, in collaboration with other sport organisations,
but not trying to copy the IOC. As a simple copy of the IOC it will always be
second class.92
Olympism and high-performance disabled sports are not contradictory.
A real and successful inclusion of athletes with disabilities into the high-level
sports model of today, however, can only be realised through accessibility.
This is possible if both those who include and those who are included make
reciprocal efforts.

Notes
1. Howe, The Cultural Politics of the Paralympic Movement through an Anthropological Lens,
152.
2. IPC, ‘Vision and Mission’.
3. See Steadward and Peterson, Paralympics. Where Heroes Come; Bailey, Athlete First.
A History of the Paralympic Movement; Brittain, The Paralympic Games Explained.
4. Guttmann, ‘The Annual Stoke Mandeville Games’, 24.
5. Peers, ‘(Dis)empowering Paralympic Histories: Absent Athletes and Disabling
Discourses’, 656.
6. Schantz, ‘Leistungsentwicklung bei den Paralympischen Spielen’.
7. Foucault, ‘The Subject and Power’; Foucault, ‘Le pouvoir, une bête magnifique’;
Foucault, ‘Les mailles du pouvoir’; Peers, ‘(Dis)empowering Paralympic Histories’,
657.
8. See Peers, ‘(Dis)empowering Paralympic Histories’.
9. Sherill, ‘Philosophical and Ethical Aspects of Paralympic Sports’.
10. Scruton, Stoke Mandeville: Road to the Paralympics, 88.
11. Brittain, The Paralympic Games Explained, 15.
374 The Paralympics

12. Coubertin, ‘The Philosophic Foundation of Modern Olympism’, 580.

13. Ibid.
14. Coubertin, ‘L’éducation physique au XXe siècle’, 375.
15. Bailey, Athlete First, 24.
16. Quoted in Anderson, ‘Turned into Taxpayers: Paraplegia, Rehabilitation and Sport at
Stoke Mandeville, 1944–1956’, 473.
17. IPC, ‘Vision and Mission’.
18. Ibid.
19. IOC, Olympic Charter, 11.
20. IPC, ‘Vision and Mission’.
21. Bailey, Athlete First, 249.
22. See Goffman, Stigma: Notes on the Management of Spoiled Identity.
23. Murphy, The Body Silent.
24. Kell et al., ’Two Games One Movement? The Paralympic Versus the Olympic
Movement’, 165.
25. Quoted in Scruton, Stoke Mandeville. Road to the Paralympics, 80.
26. Bailey, Athlete First, 47.
27. IOC, Charter, 11.
28. Steadward, ‘Contribution to the Discussion’, quoted in Steadward, ‘Integration and
Sport in the Paralympic Movement’, 39; Doll-Tepper, ‘Similarities and Differences of
the Olympic and Paralympic Movement’, 17.
29. There were different proposals:
– total integration (Paralympic competitions as an equal part of the Olympic program)
– full integration of some disciplines for people with disabilities
– alternating integration of some disciplines
– status quo but considering Paralympic medals as full Olympic medals
– and, finally, the status quo.
30. The OCs will pay US$9 million for the 2008 Games and US$14 million for the 2010
and 2012 Games. See IPC, ‘IPC–IOC Cooperation’.
31. Howe, ‘The Cultural Politics of the Paralympic Movement . . .’, 206.
32. Schantz and Gilbert, ‘An Ideal Misconstrued: Newspaper Coverage of the Atlanta
Paralympic Games in France and Germany’; Schell and Rodriguez, ‘Subverting Bodies/
Ambivalent Representations: Media Analysis of Paralympian, Hope Lewellen’.
33. For example, Keller et al., ‘The Coverage of Persons with Disabilities in American
Newspapers’; Lachal, ‘La presse française et les personnes handicapées de 1977 à
1988’; Lachal, ‘Les personnes handicapées vues par la presse régionale française.
Constantes et évolutions de 1977 à 1988’; Nelson, ‘Broken Images: Portrayals of
Those with Disabilities in American Media’; Shapiro, No Pity: People with Disabilities
Forging a New Civil Rights Movement; Yoshida et al., ‘Recent Newspaper Coverage
about Persons with Disabilities’.
34. Longmore, ‘Screening Stereotypes: Images of Disabled People’, 32.
35. Zola, ‘Depictions of Disability – Metaphor, Message, and Medium in the Media:
A Research and Political Agenda’, 8.
36. See Hall, ‘The Spectacle of the “Other”.’
37. Nelson, ‘Broken Images: Portrayals of Those with Disabilities in American Media’, 9.
38. Ibid., 6.
39. Ibid.
40. Ibid., 7.
41. Ibid., 8.
42. Ibid.
 Otto J. Schantz and Keith Gilbert 375

43. Ibid., 9.
44. Woodill, ‘The Social Semiotics of Disability’.
45. Ibid., 209.
46. Clogston, ‘Disability Coverage in American Newspapers’.
47. Ibid., 46.
48. ‘Super crips’ is a common term in the disabled community. In the British context
the Welsh athlete Tanni Grey Thompson would be a good example. Thompson, who
has spina bifida and uses a wheelchair, won eleven gold medals at the Paralympics
between 1992 and 2004. She now works as a television presenter and motivational
speaker.
49. Hardin and Hardin, ‘The “Supercrip” in Sport Media: Wheelchair Athletes Discuss
Hegemony’s Disabled Hero’. See also Shapiro, No Pity: People with Disabilities Forging a
New Civil Rights Movement; Clogston, ‘Disability Coverage in American Newspapers’;
Zola, ‘Depictions of Disability. . .’.
50. Clogston, ‘Disability Coverage in American Newspapers’, 47.
51. See Lyotard, Le différend, 13.
52. Michel Foucault, Histoire de la folie à l’âge classique.
53. See, for example, Becker, ‘Sport in den Massenmedien’; Coakley, Sport in Society. Issues
& Controversies; Krüger, ‘Cui bono? Die Rolle des Sports in den Massenmedien’.
54. Bell, The Language of News Media, 160.
55. Elias and Dunning, ‘The Quest for Excitement in Unexciting Societies’.
56. See Becker, ‘Sport in den Massenmedien’; Bell, The Language of News Media; Krüger,
‘Cui bono?’; Hackforth, ‘Publizistische Wirkungsforschung: Ansätze, Analysen und
Analogien’.
57. Enting, ‘Die Berichterstattung über die Paralympics 1996 in Atlanta – dargestellt in
ausgewählten Printmedien’.
58. Schell and Duncan, ‘A Content Analysis of CBS’s Coverage of the 1996 Paralympic
Games’.
59. Some commentators recognised and discussed explicitly prejudices toward people
with disabilities; see ibid., 39.
60. Ibid., 27.
61. Duncan, ‘A Hermeneutic of Spectator Sport: The 1976 and 1984 Olympic Games’.
62. Schell and Duncan, ‘A Content Analysis of CBS’s Coverage of the 1996 Paralympic
Games’.
63. Ibid.
64. Shapiro, No Pity: People with Disabilities Forging a New Civil Rights Movement.
65. Schell and Duncan, ‘A Content Analysis of CBS’s Coverage of the 1996 Paralympic
Games’, 43.
66. Schantz and Gilbert, ‘An Ideal Misconstrued: Newspaper Coverage of the Atlanta
Paralympic Games in France and Germany’.
67. DePauw, ‘The (In)Visibility of DisAbility: Cultural Contexts and ”Sporting Bodies”’,
421.
68. See, for example, Bette, Systemtheorie und Sport; Guttmann, The Erotics in Sport; Pfister,
‘Women in the Olympics (1952–1980): An Analysis of German Newspapers (Beauty
vs. Gold medals)’; Rowe, Sport, Culture and the Media. The Unruly Trinity.
69. Schantz and Marty, ‘The French Press and Sport for People with Handicapping
Conditions’; Schimanski, ‘Behindertensport in der deutschen und amerikanischen
Tagespresse 1984–1992. Unter besonderer Berücksichtigung der Paralympics. Eine
Analyse anhand ausgewählter Printmedien’.
70. Lachal, ‘La presse française et les personnes handicappées de 1977 à 1988’, 39.
376 The Paralympics

71. L’Équipe is a nationwide French newspaper published daily and devoted to sport.
72. Schantz and Marty, ‘The French Press and Sport for People with Handicapping
Conditions’, 72–79.
73. Schell and Duncan, ‘A Content Analysis of CBS’s Coverage of the 1996 Paralympic
Games’, 44.
74. For example, Duncan et al., ‘Coverage of Women’s Sports in Four Daily Newspapers’;
Duncan, ‘Sports Photographs and Sexual Difference. The Images of Women and Men
in the 1984 and 1988 Olympic Games’; Eastman and Billings, ‘Sport Casting and
Sports Reporting. The Power of the Gender Bias’; Jones et al., ‘Pretty Versus Powerful
in the Sports Pages’; Urquhart and Crossman, ‘The Globe and Mail Coverage of the
Winter Olympic Games’; Wann et al., ‘The Inequitable Newspaper Coverage of Men’s
and Women’s Athletics at Small, Medium, and Large Universities’.
75. Pfister, ‘Women in the Olympics (1952–1980). . . ‘, 11.29.
76. Tuggle and Owen, ‘A Descriptive Analysis of the Centennial Olympics: The “Games
of the Women”?’.
77. DePauw, ‘A Feminist Perspective on Sport and Sports Organizations for Persons
with Disabilities’; DePauw and Gavron, Disability and Sport; Sherill, ‘Women with
Disabilities’.
78. Sherill, ‘Paralympic Games 1996: Feminist and Other Concerns: What’s Your
Excuse?’.
79. Schell and Duncan, ‘A Content Analysis of CBS’s Coverage of the 1996 Paralympic
Games’.
80. Reichhart et al., ‘Spectating at the Paralympic Games: Athens 2004’, 66.
81. Schantz, ‘Spectators at the Sydney 2000 Paralympics: A Field Study’.
82. Howe, The Cultural Politics of the Paralympic Movement . . ., 71.
83. Foucault, ‘The Subject and Power’; Foucault, ‘L’extension sociale de la norme’.
84. See Howe and Jones, ‘Classification of Disabled Athletes: (Dis)empowering the
Paralympic Practice Community’.
85. Page et al., ‘Leaving the Disability Ghetto. A Qualitative Study of Factors Underlying
Achievement Motivation among Athletes with Disabilities’. See also Huang and
Brittain, ‘Negotiating Identities through Disability Sport’.
86. Goggin and Newell, Disability in Australia. Exposing a Social Apartheid, 81.
87. Brittain, ‘The Paralympic Games Explained’, 93.
88. Kaminker, ‘The Paralympics Paradox’.
89. Schantz, ‘Compatibility of Olympism and Paralympism: Ideal and Reality’.
90. Ibid.
91. Ibid.
92. Ibid.

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23
The Olympics and the Environment
John Karamichas

For Roche1 Olympic Games are global mega-events that represent current
expressions of universal world views, such as human rights and environmen-
talism. As far as the latter – universal – worldview is concerned, considering
that the rise of environmental concern among Western publics can be traced
back to the 1960s and 1970s, the IOC has been extremely slow in adapting
its procedures regarding the factoring of that growing concern into the award
of the Games. For instance, public referenda held in Denver turned down the
IOC’s offer to host the 1976 Winter Games on the basis of environmentally
destructive practices.2
The actual concern of the IOC with environmentalism can be traced back to
1986, when its President, Juan Antonio Samaranch, declared that the environ-
ment was the third pillar of Olympism, along with sports and culture. However
it was the Rio de Janeiro UN Summit on Environment and Development in
1992 and the growing support for sustainable development (SD) which made
that professed ambition of IOC a possibility. The Local Agenda 21 (LA21) that
was drafted by the United Nations Environmental Programme (UNEP) for the
Summit was adopted by 182 governments and offered a manual for developing
an LA21 that was specific to the individual country or community require-
ments. Thus, in 1994 the IOC in collaboration with UNEP started making the
third-pillar ambition of the IOC more of a reality and by 1995 the IOC had
developed its own Sport and Environment Commission.
In 1996, a paragraph on environmental protection was added to the Olympic
Charter, defining the IOC’s role with respect to the environment such that

the IOC sees that the Olympic Games are held in conditions which demons-
trate a responsible concern for environmental issues and encourages the
Olympic Movement to demonstrate a responsible concern for environmental
issues, takes measures to reflect such concern in its activities and educates

381
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
382 The Olympics and the Environment

all those connected with the Olympic Movement as to the importance of

sustainable development.3

By 1999, the IOC had its own version of LA21 in operation, which among
other things called for

1 Improving socio-economic conditions;

2 Conservation and management of resources for sustainable environment;
and
3 Strengthening the role of major groups.

These calls were accompanied with a set of more concrete proposals on how
these may be achieved during the Games, such as the extensive use of solar
panels for the power needs of the venues and related facilities, the conduct of
EIAs (Environmental Impact Assessments) for related projects and the arrang-
ing of transportation to and from Olympic venues with the aim of reducing
atmospheric pollution to mention just a few.4
However, the first practical implementation of environmental concerns took
place in the Lillehammer Winter Games of 1994. In the case of Lillehammer,
there were mobilisations by grassroots activists against Norway hosting the
Games, animated by the environmentally damaging 1992 Winter Olympics
in Albertville and the Savoy region of France. These were directed against
the holding of the Olympics in general and specific projects associated with
the Games in particular. Norway was also involved in the drafting of the UN
Commission for the Environment report, ‘Our Common Future’, that formed
the basis of the SD principle. This led to consideration being taken of the
environmental impact of the Games from an early stage and eventually led to
the conduct of a paradigmatic case of organising a mega-event with a minimal
environmental impact.5 This was achieved by the following four points which
were implemented to the letter in the planning and organisation of the Games
and as such kept the environment at the forefront:

1 Companies were instructed to use natural materials whenever possible;

2 Emphasis was placed on energy conservation in heating and cooling
systems;
3 A recycling program was developed for the entire winter games region; and
4 A stipulation was made that the arenas must harmonise with the surrounding
landscape.

Although, the Winter Games are substantially different from their summer
counterparts in terms of the demands they make on the natural environment,
Lillehammer provided a benchmark for the Sydney Olympics that followed
 John Karamichas 383

in 2000.6 Sydney is reputed to have managed to organise the first Green Summer
Olympics, with very positive reviews on its performance by Environmental
Non-governmental Organisations (ENGOs) such as Greenpeace. In that
sense, Sydney raised quite high the standard of environmental performance
for the hosting of the Games that the next hosts of the Games had to follow.
Nevertheless, Athens, the Olympic host of the 2004 Olympiad, failed miserably
to emulate the example of Sydney and as such it received highly critical reviews
by core ENGOs.7

The environment in the bidding process

‘Eight years before an Olympiad, the IOC publishes a manual for candidate
cities (MCC) to inform their bids for hosting the Games. The MCC dedicates a
section to environmental matters, outlining the commitment to environmental
protection by the IOC and guiding the candidate cities on the policies they
have to employ to achieve a positive bid evaluation. The environment section
of the MCC is very compact, and does not contain more than three pages; but
in terms of the guarantees that it requests from a prospective host, it is fairly
demanding’.8 The MCCs that have guided the last five successful bidding cit-
ies of Sydney, Athens, Beijing, London and Rio de Janeiro differ in wording
and the emphasis given to the environmental factor. What clearly stands out
is the replacement of the term ‘environment’ by that of ‘sustainable develop-
ment’ to guide the environment section of the MCCs. ‘This change of wording
is a direct result of international developments, and the entry of sustainable
development in environmental protection discourse after the 1992 Rio Summit
in particular’.9 With that, we may expect that Olympic Games hosting can act
as an important impetus for the transformation of host country planning along
Ecological Modernisation (EM) lines.10
To illustrate this point, the following parameters that the IOC requires the
bidder to report on, as found in the MCCs that have guided the aforemen-
tioned four Olympics, have been summarised here.
All candidate cities have been required to: 1) provide descriptions by means
of a map and a chart of the local environmental situation and of the environ-
ment and natural resource systems used by relevant authorities with emphasis
on their interaction with the OCOG (Organising Committee for the Olympic
Games); 2) provide ‘an official guarantee from the competent authorities, stat-
ing that all work necessary for the organisation of the Games will comply with
local, regional and national regulations and acts and international agreements
and protocols regarding planning and construction and the protection of the
environment’;11 3) carry out Environmental Impact Assessments for all venues;
4) describe the OCOG’s planned environmental management system (includ-
ing possible collaboration with ENGOs and/or their reaction to the Games);
384 The Olympics and the Environment

5) describe the application of environmentally friendly technology relating

to the Games; 6) state the plans for minimising the environmental impact of
infrastructural projects relating to the Games (road expansion, for example);
7) set out how plans for waste management (including sewage treatment) are
expected to ‘influence the city and region in the future’;12 8) explain how ‘will
the OCOG integrate its environmental approach into contracts with suppliers
and sponsors, for example, with respect to procurement of recyclable or com-
postable goods, in recyclable or compostable packaging’13 (the most explicit
statement on this issue by the IOC when compared to earlier MCCs); and 9)
outline plans for raising environmental awareness.
We clearly see here an emphasis by the IOC on the environmental sustain-
ability (ES) impact and legacy of the Games that clearly subscribes to the
principles outlined by the ecological modernisation (EM) perspective.

The environmental protection theme in successful Olympic

bids (from Sydney 2000 to Rio de Janeiro 2016)

All bids now make extensive reference to the existing environmental capacity
of the host nation. They also include plans for further developments in this
area which have the potential to increase environmental capacity by factoring
the environmental dynamic in the planning of the Games. Nevertheless, the
student of these bids is immediately confronted by a different use of language.
Compare, for instance, the bids submitted for the Sydney Games to the bid
submitted for the Athens Games. In the former case, we see the expression of
an objective that seemed to have been planned irrespective of Olympic host-
ing and, in the latter, we are confronted more by a statement of ambition and
intention without evidence of any substantial planning in that direction. That
didn’t stop ATHOC from proclaiming that ‘the environment will not only be
protected: it will be improved’.14 As it has been already indicated, the reviews
by leading ENGOs on the environmental performance of Athens 2004 leave
little doubt that there was an overwhelming failure in realising that ambi-
tious proclamation. For those ENGOs, ‘the environmental plans for Athens
2004 closely followed those of Sydney. As such, although ATHOC did not take
advantage of the critical points raised by ENGOs over Sydney 2000 to comple-
ment its own environmental action plans, they were still good plans [albeit]
the implementation of these plans was inhibited by the political process’.15
Ambitious environmental claims have not gone amiss in subsequent bids. For
instance, in the bid made for Beijing 2008, it was claimed that it would ‘leave
the greatest Olympic Games environmental legacy ever’,16 the London 2012
bid promotes the concept of the ‘One Planet Olympics’ and that of Rio de
Janeiro proposes a ‘Green Games for a Blue Planet’.
 John Karamichas 385

Examining the green dimension in the Olympics: short-term benefits

or long-term green legacy?
Two questions can be directly posed in relation to this question:

1 What was the impact of hosting the Games on the environmental

consciousness and performance of the host nations?
2 In light of the contrasting reviews that both Sydney 2000 and Athens 2004
have attracted from ENGOs, what makes some nations more successful than
others in organising ‘green’ Games?

In a study aiming to answer these issues in relation to Sydney and Athens the
event itself was analysed in relation to each of the phases that Hiller17 identi-
fied in his own study of mega-events. Those were applied in relation to the
Olympic Games as follows:

1 The pre-event IOC bidding applications;

2 The fulfilment of the event commitments made by the hosts;
3 The extent to which those signified a post-event commitment to environ-
mental sustainability (ES).

We have clearly commented on items 1 and 2 in relation to the Sydney and

Athens Games. In this section, we are touching upon a study that attempted
to give an answer on item 3.
That study18 accepted that Olympic Games ‘encapsulate the essence of the
normative claims made by the ecological modernisation perspective (EM)’ and
as such it proceeded towards evaluating ‘the effects of hosting the Olympic
Games on the ecological modernisation of the host nations’.19 In this direction,
the post-event environmental performance of the two hosts was examined by
employing six key indicators:

1 The average annual level of CO2 emissions;

2 The level of environmental consciousness;
3 The ratification of international agreements;
4 The designation of sites for protection;
5 The implementation of EIA procedures;
6 ENGO participation in public decision-making process.

That study was produced in 2010, namely ten and six years respectively after
the Sydney and Athens Games. This was perceived as an adequate lapsing
period since the running of the Games to make an assessment of the ES bene-
fits accrued by them. The inclusion of the Greek case in that study, in light
386 The Olympics and the Environment

Table 23.1 Ecological modernisation in the post-event phase

Sydney 2000 Athens 2004

Annual level of CO2 emissions ⫺ ⫺

Level of environmental consciousness ⫹ ⫹
Ratification of international agreements ⫺ ⫺
Designation of Sites for Protection ⫺ ⫺
Implementation of EIA procedures ? ⫺
ENGO participation in decision-making processes ? ?

of the aforementioned extremely negative assessment of the environmental

record of Athens 2004 by Greenpeace and WWF, was justified by pinpointing
one of the few success stories of Athens 2004: environmental awareness and
its possible capacity to smooth the progress of post-Olympics environmental
improvements.
As we can see in Table 23.1 in a summary of the findings, neither of the
two hosts scored the ideal 6/6. In two cases, both countries had made back-
ward steps due to the lack of continuation of earlier good practice, if not
leadership, in the Australian case, and the continuation of perennial structural
deficiencies, in the Greek case.
This exploration has demonstrated that ‘a successful bid to host the Olympic
Games may affirm that the environmental standards prescribed by the IOC
will be met, but it neither means that these standards will be implemented as
prescribed nor that the successful implementation of environmental standards
for the projects associated with the Games will inevitably lead to a general
ecologisation of the national economy’.20
With that in mind, we proceed toward a speculation exercise on the EM
capacity of the Olympic hosts that followed Athens 2004. Note that even in
cases where the Games have taken place, like Beijing in 2008, we are far from
being able to produce the same levels of appraisal. After all, not enough time
has elapsed to be able to pinpoint with the same precision the factors that have
either facilitated or inhibited the aforementioned key EM indicators.

EM and Beijing 2008

The decision to hold the 2008 Games in Beijing brought specific environmental
remediation measures into rigorous focus. After all, ‘convincing the IOC that
Beijing could clean up its environment was critical to winning the prize to
host the Olympics’.21 In addition, the memory of narrowly losing to Sydney,
in its first unsuccessful bid in 1993, because of Sydney’s Green promise, made
promising a ‘Green Olympics’ which would promote sustainable development
an indispensable component in Beijing’s bid to host the Games.22
 John Karamichas 387

‘When Beijing was awarded the Games in 2001, the IOC Evaluation
Committee noted: “Beijing currently faces a number of environmental pres-
sures and issues, particularly air pollution. However it has an ambitious set of
plans designed, which are comprehensive enough to greatly improve Beijing’s
overall environmental condition. These plans and actions will require a
significant effort and financial investment. The result would be a major legacy
for Beijing from the Olympic Games, which include increased environmental
awareness among the population”’.23
According to Mol, the Beijing Olympics have been restructured and moulded
by sustainability norms.24 This was largely achieved by a range of rather extreme
measures that had to be taken near to the start of the Games to ensure air qual-
ity (cloud-seeding among many others). Furthermore, public transportation was
substantially improved and old, highly polluting factories were demolished and
replaced by new cleaner energy production resources. For Wen Tian,25 vice presi-
dent of the Beijing Union for Science and Technology, ‘the last five years, China
experienced significant changes in its economy, especially with issues related to
factory construction. In other words, it was an opportunity for the development
of the country . . . to change methods and systems of production’. Since not
much time has passed since the Beijing Olympiad we cannot engage in this sec-
tion with the environmental legacy of Beijing 2008 with the same vigour with
which we examined the two preceding Olympiads. Nevertheless, we can put
forward the following judgment by Mol from his article on the Games:

The general assessments made [...] are on the whole positive about the actual
environmental improvements following the Olympics. In that sense, the
green Olympics amounted to more than just public relations and plans.26

Nevertheless, at the same time we are confronted by a different and more

sceptical assessment of the Chinese state’s EM capacity. For Lo,27 ‘[s]ubstantial
climate commitment from China is contingent on fulfilment of its own eco-
nomic and social goals. This is accepted not only by government and business
leaders but also by the general public and many non-governmental organisa-
tions (NGOs)’.

Prospects for London 2012

Any analysis of the environmental credentials of London 2012 should not lose
sight of the fact that London 2012 produced the most competent plan for a
sustainable Olympics during the bidding process for the Games. It is not an
exaggeration to say that the Olympic Games in London ‘have sustainability at
the heart for their preparations’.28 This claim may have more substance than
most. After all, when compared to the successful bidders examined earlier, the
388 The Olympics and the Environment

UK is, in many respects, an epitome of ecological modernisation with some

notable achievements in many of the aforementioned indicators.
For instance, the UK has quite consistently taken leadership positions
within the EU and has pushed, along with Germany, European climate policy
forward.29 It has also been argued that Britain has one of the most widely sup-
ported environmental movements in the world, with very good organisational
and policy impact.30 In addition, the British public has constantly demon-
strated one of the highest levels of environmental consciousness across the EU,
as demonstrated in successive Eurobarometer studies during the 1990s and the
first decade of the 2000s. This refers to environmental concern accompanied
by environmental knowledge, as distinct from the unqualified concern that
was demonstrated by some southern European nations during the 1990s.31
Moreover, a ‘W[orld] W[ildlife] F[und] UK poll conducted in late May and early
June 2001 found strong support for EU leadership in bringing the Kyoto protocol
into force’.32 It was only, however, in the 2010 general elections that the Greens
managed to send their first MP in the House of Commons, notwithstanding
the continuing usage of the first-past-the-post electoral system, notoriously
favourable to the two main political parties. Moreover as a signatory of the
Kyoto protocol, the UK has demonstrated a good record in reducing its CO2
emissions since the Kyoto baseline year of 1990. Characteristically, in 2007 the
UK had achieved a 5.37 per cent reduction of its CO2 emissions.33
The economic crisis and the subsequent spending cuts that it produced were
bound to have an impact on the budget for London 2012. Nevertheless, IOC
President Jacques Rogge expressed his confidence, when he visited London’s
Olympic stadium in May 2010, that London’s ‘lean but very workable budget’
would deliver a successful Olympics in 2012 despite Britain’s economic crisis
and massive spending cuts.34 Can we also argue in this context with the same
conviction about the environmental legacy of London 2012?
For the Commission for a Sustainable London 201235 not to act to minimise
the carbon footprint of the event ‘is an option that carries significant reputa-
tional risk’.36 Nevertheless, even if we accept that this would indeed be the case
(we have no reason to dispute it) and although the UK appears to be in a good
position to continue as a pacesetter in the path of ecological modernisation,
that does not mean that the continuation of the current socioeconomic crisis
and its accompanying political and cultural impacts will not negatively affect
its standing in relation to the aforementioned EM indicators.

Rio de Janeiro 2016 and sustainability

According to the study on the candidatures for the 2016 Olympics by Green
Cross Spain,37 Rio de Janeiro presented emission values for greenhouse gases
that were notably higher than the other candidate cities and the maximum
 John Karamichas 389

values set by the World Health Organization (WHO). Nevertheless, the candi-
dature dossier submitted by Rio de Janeiro was the only one that did go ‘into
depth on the compensation systems for greenhouse gases that would be used’.38
On the highly important issue of advancing environmental consciousness in
Brazil in general and Rio in particular the bid has put forward two environ-
mental education projects: The ‘Olympic Eco-Citizenship’ project and a new
Permanent Ecomuseum. The former would promote ‘sustainability among all
social groups in Rio’ and the latter ‘would be an environmental education and
cultural centre with information relating to environmental awareness in the
city and every environmental measure included in the Games’. In addition,
‘citizens will be encouraged to develop and manage environmental conserva-
tion projects, such us the reforestation of the Maranga River’. It also has the
‘Stakeholder Engagement Plan’, designed to guarantee the identification, parti-
cipation and dialogue between public administrations, NGOs and companies
in projects linked with the Olympic Games.39
In a development that may put Brazil, in relation to environmental sustain-
ability, closer to the UK than one might have had expected, on 26 October
2010, President Luiz Inacio Lula da Silva announced at Brazil’s Forum on
Climate Change that Brazil is on track to meet carbon dioxide emission targets
four years earlier than expected. That development can be attributed to: a) a
successful implementation of a plan to reduce the rate of Amazon deforestation
by more than 70 per cent; b) the development of a national inventory of green-
house gas emissions with the participation of hundreds of institutions (600)
and experts from energy, industrial and waste sectors (1200); c) setting plans
for strategic action by five specific industry sectors; and e) establishing rules for
the National Fund on Climate Change, which is the first to be financed from
the profits of an oil supply chain.40

Concluding remarks

This overview, on the connection between the modern Olympic Games and the
environmental dimension, started by identifying a rather delayed acknowledge-
ment of that growing problematic by the IOC and then proceeded by employing
the three phases in the development of a mega sport event like the Olympics
to discuss the environmental legacy of Olympic Games since Sydney 2000, the
first Green Olympics. For Sydney 2000 and Athens 2004 we acknowledged that
there have been considerable improvements in the general infrastructure and
in transport systems but we noted that the permanent ecologisation of policy-
making that was envisaged had not materialised to date and it is still subject to
the intricacies dominating the national political structures concerned.
The latter can, without doubt, also be said for the cities that followed Athens
as Olympic hosts. Although, these cities differ remarkably from one another in
390 The Olympics and the Environment

terms of their social and economic placement, political culture and their capac-
ity for ecological modernisation, by examining the environmental dimension
in the context of the Olympic Games we have seen the transformative capacity
that the Games may have toward something good, environmentalism, but also,
under the employment of a more sceptical view, the way that ‘the discourse
and rhetoric associated with’ environmentalism can be used ‘to promote its
games events and to manipulate the worldwide public image of the Olympic
movement in general’.41
After, all what is also evident from the legacy of Sydney 2000 and Athens
2004, and is very much likely to be the case with London 2012, is that the
unavoidable result of the rejuvenation of areas with chronic problems, like
East London, is the actual gentrification of these areas with housing unafford-
able for the social groups that used to occupy the area. It may be the case that
Brazil’s hosting of the Olympic Games in 2016 has already shown extremely
positive signs of factoring the environmental problematic in a more permanent
basis than its predecessors, but leaving aside these positives, we should not
lose sight of the fact that Brazil in general and Rio de Janeiro in particular are
extremely divided societies and that these benefits are unlikely to trickle down,
as envisaged by the modernising perspective, to the most disaffected echelons
in the favelas of Rio.

Notes
1. Roche, Mega-events and Modernity: Olympics and Expos in the Growth of Global
Culture.
2. Lenskyj, Inside the Olympic Industry: Power, Politics and Activism, 157.
3. IOC, Olympic Charter, x.
4. G-ForSE, ‘The Environment and the Olympic Movement’.
5. Cantelon and Letters, ‘The Making of the IOC Environmental Policy as the Third
Dimension of the Olympic Movement’; Lesjø, ‘Lillehammer 1994’.
6. Lenskyj, Inside the Olympic Industry, 159.
7. Greenpeace, Pinocchio 2004. Olympic Games – Athens 2004. Promises: Always Green,
Always Forgotten. The Environmental Landscape a Year before the Olympics; Greenpeace,
How Green the Games? A Greenpeace Assessment of the Environmental Performance of the
Athens 2004 Olympics; Greenpeace, Olympic Games – Athens 2004. Promises: Always
Green, Always Forgotten. An Assessment of the Environmental Dimension of the Games;
WWF-Greece, Environmental Assessment of the Athens 2004 Olympic Games.
8. Karamichas, ‘Olympic Games as an Opportunity for the Ecological Modernisation of
the Host Nation: The Cases of Sydney 2000 and Athens 2004’, 215–216.
9. Ibid., 216.
10. For a review of EM see Mol and Spaargaren, ‘Ecological Modernisation Theory
in Debate: A Review’; Buttel, ‘Environmental Sociology and the Explanation of
Environmental Reform’.
11. IOC, Manual for Candidate Cities for the Games of the XXVIII Olympiad 2004, 45 but
repeated, with small differences, in all other MCCs.
12. Ibid., 46; but repeated with slightly different wording in all other MCCs.
 John Karamichas 391

13. IOC, 2012 Candidature Procedure and Questionnaires. Games of the XXX Olympiad in
2012, 88.
14. ATHOC, Athens 2004: Candidate City, 52.
15. Karamichas, ‘Olympic Games as an Opportunity for the Ecological Modernisation of
the Host Nation . . .’, 223.
16. UNEP, Beijing 2008 Olympic Games – an Environmental Overview, 26.
17. Hiller, ‘Toward an Urban Sociology of Mega-events’.
18. Karamichas, ‘Olympic Games as an Opportunity for the Ecological Modernisation of
the Host Nation . . .’
19. Ibid., 212.
20. Ibid., 239.
21. Loh, ‘Clearing the Air’, 240.
22. See Ibid.; Mol, ‘Sustainability as a Global Attractor’.
23. UNEP, Independent Environmental Assessment. Beijing 2008 Olympic Games, 13.
24. Mol, ‘Sustainability as a Global Attractor’.
25. TEE, ‘Roundtable Discussion’.
26. Mol, ‘Sustainability as a Global Attractor’, 521.
27. Lo, ‘Active Conflict or Passive Coherence? The Political Economy of Climate Change
in China’, 1012.
28. IOC, ‘Doha to Host 2011 World Conference on Sport and Environment’ (2010).
29. See Schreurs and Teiberghien, ‘Multi-level Reinforcement: Explaining European
Union Leadership in Climate Change Mitigation’.
30. See Rootes and Miller, ‘The British Environmental Movement: Organisational Field
and Network of Organisations’.
31. See Karamichas, ‘Civil Society and the Environmental Problematic. A Preliminary
Investigation of the Greek and Spanish Cases’.
32. Schreurs and Tiberghien, ‘Multi-Level Reinforcement . . .’, 30.
33. Personal calculations based on data from UNSD, Greenhouse Gas Emissions. CO2
Emissions in 2007.
34. Wilson, ‘IOC President Inspects London Olympic Stadium’.
35. CSL, Extinguishing Emissions? A Review of the Approach Taken to Carbon Measurement
and Management Across the London 2012 Programme, 15.
36. Hayes and Karamichas, ‘Conclusion. Sports Mega-Events: Disputed Places, Systemic
Contradictions, and Critical Moments’, 349.
37. Green Cross Spain, ‘Environmental Comparative Analysis of Bid Cities To Host the
2016 Summer Olympic Games’, 15.
38. Ibid., 17.
39. Ibid., 19.
40. See ENS, ‘Brazil Set To Meet Low-Carbon Targets Four Years Early’.
41. Roche, ‘Mega-events and Modernity . . .’, 253, n28.

References
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Buttel, F. H. (2003) ‘Environmental Sociology and the Explanation of Environmental
Reform’, Organization and Environment, 16.3, 306–344.
Cantelon, H. and M. Letters (2000) ‘The Making of the IOC Environmental Policy as the
Third Dimension of the Olympic Movement’, International Review for the Sociology of
Sport, 35.3, 294–308.
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CSL (2009) Extinguishing Emissions? A Review of the Approach Taken to Carbon Measurement
and Management Across the London 2012 Programme (London: Commission for a
Sustainable London 2012).
ENS (Environment News Service) (2010) ‘Brazil Set To Meet Low-carbon Targets Four
Years Early’, at: www.ens-newswire.com/ens/oct2010/2010-10-27-01.html (accessed 27
October 2010).
G-ForSE (n.d.) ‘The Environment and the Olympic Movement’, at: www.g-forse.com/
enviro/Olympic.html (accessed 20 November 2009).
Green Cross Spain (2009) ‘Environmental Comparative Analysis of Bid Cities To Host
the 2016 Summer Olympic Games’, at: www.deportesostenible.es/doc/Environmental_
Comparative_UK.pdf (accessed 15 December 2010).
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Always Forgotten. The Environmental Landscape a Year before the Olympics (Athens:
Greenpeace).
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Performance of the Athens 2004 Olympics (Athens: Greenpeace).
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An Assessment of the Environmental Dimension of the Games (Athens: Greenpeace).
Hayes, G. and J. Karamichas (2012) ‘Conclusion. Sports Mega-events: Disputed Places,
Systemic Contradictions, and Critical Moments’, in G. Hayes and J. Karamichas (eds),
Olympic Games, Mega-events, and Civil Societies: Globalisation, Environment, and Resistance
(Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan), 340–358.
Hiller, H. H. (2000) ‘Toward an Urban Sociology of Mega-events’, Research in Urban
Sociology, 5, 181–205.
IOC (1996) Manual for Candidate Cities for the Games of the XXVIII Olympiad 2004
(Lausanne: International Olympic Committee).
IOC (2004) 2012 Candidature Procedure and Questionnaires. Games of the XXX Olympiad in
2012 (Lausanne: International Olympic Committee).
IOC (2007) Olympic Charter (Lausanne: International Olympic Committee).
IOC (2010) ‘Doha to Host 2011 World Conference on Sport and Environment’, at;
www.olympic.org/en/content/Olympism-in-Action/Environment/Doha-to-host-2011-
World-Conference-on-Sport-and-Environment-/ (accessed 12 December 2010).
Karamichas, J. (2003) ‘Civil Society and the Environmental Problematic. A Preliminary
Investigation of the Greek and Spanish Cases’, paper presented at the ECPR joint
sessions of workshops, University of Edinburgh, 28 March–2 April.
Karamichas, J. (2012) ‘Olympic Games as an Opportunity for the Ecological Modernisation
of the Host Nation: The Cases of Sydney 2000 and Athens 2004’, in G. Hayes and
J. Karamichas (eds), Olympic Games, Mega-events, and Civil Societies: Globalisation,
Environment, and Resistance (Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan), 211–241.
Lenskyj, H. J. (2000) Inside the Olympic Industry: Power, Politics and Activism (Albany: State
University of New York Press).
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282–293.
Lo, A. Y. (2010) ‘Active Conflict or Passive Coherence? The Political Economy of Climate
Change in China’, Environmental Politics, 19.6, 1012–1017.
Loh, C. (2008) ‘Clearing the Air’, in M. Worden (ed.), China’s Great Leap. The Beijing
Games and Olympian Human Rights Challenges (New York, London, Melbourne and
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Mol, A. P. J. (2010) ‘Sustainability as a Global Attractor: The Greening of the 2008 Beijing
Olympics’, Global Networks, 10.4, 520–528.
 John Karamichas 393

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A Review’, in A. P. J. Mol and D. A. Sonnenfeld (eds), Ecological Modernisation around the
World. Perspectives and Critical Debates (London: Frank Cass), 17–49.
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(Athens: WWF).
24
Securing the Olympic Games:
Exemplifications of Global
Governance
Philip Boyle

Introduction

The Olympic Games are political, national, and consumer spectacles that, as
contributions to this volume amply demonstrate, continue to be critically
examined from a wide variety of perspectives in relation to a wide variety
of topics. In the recent decade the Olympics have also become conspicuous
security spectacles characterised by overt displays of military personnel and
hardware, sophisticated new surveillance technologies, and rapidly escalating
budgets.1 Initiated by the siege and subsequent killing of 11 Israeli athletes
at the 1972 Munich Games and later accelerated by the detonation of a pipe
bomb at Atlanta’s Centennial Park during the 1996 Olympics, this securitisa-
tion process reached a categorically different level of intensity after September
11, 2001 to the extent that authorities and critics alike routinely describe the
Games as the world’s largest security operations outside of war. September 11
(hereafter 9/11) did not cause this intensification so much as it acted as a tip-
ping point for concerns about what was already being articulated as ‘the new
terrorism’ to describe the combination of religious and/or political extremism,
unorthodox methods and penchant for theatricality that was already coalesc-
ing around the Games and other high-profile events.2 Further reinforced by the
2004 Madrid train bombings and the 2005 London Underground bombings,
concerns that the global profile of the Olympics provide an ideal platform for
a catastrophic terrorist attack now figure prominently in the bidding, staging
and wider public discourse surrounding the Games.3
The exponential growth of security budgets for the Games reflects these con-
cerns. At the risk of using a single case to establish a baseline, the estimated
US$180 million4 spent on security for the 2000 Sydney Games is a suitable
point of comparison as this figure was, up to that time, unprecedented. Four
years later, and after 9/11, Greece was reported to have spent an estimated
$1.5 billion on security for the 2004 Games, an increase of over 700 per cent.

394
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 Philip Boyle 395

Chinese officials report that $350 million was spent on security for the 2008
Games, but this figure is widely regarded as extremely conservative as it
does not account for expenditures authorised through other budgets.5 The
US Security Industry Association, for example, estimates that $6.5 billion
was spent on security projects across Beijing that was not part of the Olympic
budget but nonetheless timed to coincide with the Games.6 While stark, this
example highlights the intractable problem of disaggregating official Olympics
budgets from expenses authorised through other channels, a problem that
is not at all unique to China. While few (democratic) governments will match
what China spent on all aspects of the 2008 Games, the UK is also forecast to
exceed the initial high-water mark on security expenditures set by the Athens
Games. Originally estimated at £600 million, the security budget for the 2012
Games has been revised upwards twice, once in late 2007 to £838 million and
again a year later to £1.5 billion ($1.2 billion and $2.2 billion, respectively).
Security budgets for the smaller Winter Olympics have seen similar escala-
tions. Occurring only five months after 9/11, the US spent $350 million on
security for the 2002 Salt Lake City Winter Games, a substantially greater
amount than what was spent at the larger Sydney Games only two years prior.
Even before 9/11 the US planned to spend more on security than Sydney –
approximately $200 million – with the balance coming in the immediate
aftermath of 9/11. Approximately $140 million was spent on security for the
2006 Turin Winter Olympics, though this estimate does not include substantial
costs associated with the involvement of the Italian military. The budget for the
2010 Vancouver Winter Games exemplifies the sharp disjuncture between bid-
book security estimates and final expenditures. The initial bid-book estimate of
CAD$175 million for security was widely derided in the Canadian media and in
confidential RCMP reports as far too low and revealed after the Games to cost
just under CAD$1 billion. The 2010 Games now holds the distinction of being
the most expensive Winter Olympic security operations ever, an accolade that
will likely be assumed by Russia when the 2014 Winter Olympics are held in
the Black Sea resort of Sochi.
These figures and the massive security and surveillance infrastructures they
fund should suggest the relevance of efforts to secure the Games for critical
scholarship, yet there has been comparatively little academic scrutiny of these
efforts or their consequences. There are a number of notable exceptions from
criminologists and the sociology of sport as well as the applied domain of
sports management, but on the whole issues relating to policing and security
have received far less attention than the volumes of analysis directed towards
other aspects of the Games.7 This is changing, however, with a range of scholars
with interests in current theories on governance, risk and critical takes on the
‘war on terror’ after 9/11 expressing interest in the security dimensions of
major political and sporting events.8 While diverse, this burgeoning literature
396 The Olympics, Security and Globalisation

indicates growing interest in the Games in light of theoretical discussions on

the nature of surveillance, risk and power in the later modern period.
The aim of this brief chapter is to bring the insights of these disparate
literatures together while simultaneously refining and extending them for
future study. Overall, my approach is to see the Games as a window from which
wider dynamics in the field of security and surveillance are made visible. This
includes the intensification of neoliberal urban governance, the ‘urbanisation’
of political violence and terrorism, the fragmentation of security expertise
amongst state, non-state and corporate actors, and a culturally conditioned
faith in the power of technology for security concerns. Being global events
that happen in intensely local places, analysis of security at the Olympics can
furnish a great deal of insights about these overarching dynamics. At the same
time, the Games are more than windows from which wider developments can
be discerned. They are also generative sites that produce outcomes that stretch
in time, space and in socio-cultural ways. Keeping in mind this duality of
the Games as both a product and producer, the key aim of this chapter is to
outline how the Games both express and extend developments in the field
of security and surveillance today. Four interrelated issues will be touched on
in this regard: the role of policing and surveillance in the branding of Olympic
host cities; the planned delivery of security and surveillance legacies around
the Games; processes of international collaboration and knowledge transfer
pertaining to major event security; and the performative or expressive dimen-
sions of security. Collectively, these issues not only provide insights into an
important but under-examined facet of the Games but into the politics and
practice of security governance today.

Civilising the urban renaissance

Efforts to regulate visible reminders of poverty and social polarisation are com-
monplace amongst cities preparing to host the Olympics. Typically justified
by the ‘eyes of the world’ argument wherein the homeless and other signifiers
of social polarisation are claimed to be incompatible with the stylised repres-
entations of the city promoted by local growth coalitions, these efforts often
involve strategies to ‘cleanse’ urban space by intensively regulating broadly
defined ‘disorders’ and ‘nuisance’ behaviours before and during the Games.9
A prominent example of this is Project Civil City, a major initiative of the
City of Vancouver, host of the 2010 Winter Games. Adopted in 2006, Project
Civil City (hereafter PCC) called for 50 per cent reductions in homelessness,
the open-air trade and/or use of drugs, and aggressive panhandling by 2010.
Non-specific reductions were also sought for ‘disorder’ in general, which was
broadly defined as ‘any activity or circumstance that deters or prevents the
public from the lawful use or enjoyment of the City’.10 Some of the more
 Philip Boyle 397

contentious strategies for achieving these reductions included locking or

removing dumpsters, the aggressive enforcement of existing ‘quality of life’
provisions pertaining to loitering, camping and street vending, advocating the
use of video surveillance, and funding a cost-sharing program to put private
security guards on the streets of downtown Vancouver.
Project Civil City is instructive for our understanding of the linkages
between urban revitalisation and social regulation under regimes of neoliberal
governance. At a time when the ideals of small government and fiscal auster-
ity rule, the management of the ‘externalities’ of previous rounds of neolib-
eral development is often left to cities, the political entities least equipped to
deal with these problems in any comprehensive way. Consequently, ‘cities
have become strategically crucial geographical arenas in which a variety of
neoliberal initiatives – along with closely intertwined strategies of crisis dis-
placement and crisis management – have been articulated.11 Project Civil City
is one such articulation, an experiment in urban regulation prompted by the
need to manage the conflict between preferred patterns of new development
and geographies of poverty, exclusion and social polarisation inherited from
the past.
In Vancouver this conflict can be traced back to (at least) the 1986 World’s
Fair. This provincially subsidised event catalysed a flood of foreign direct
investment in the city’s real estate market and significantly reduced the
amount of low-income housing in the city’s Downtown Eastside as single-room
occupancy hotels were renovated or demolished under the weight of specula-
tive capital.12 The 2010 Olympics carried this process forward by ushering in a
new round of development in central Vancouver and adding further pressure
on the city’s already depleted stock of low-income inner-city housing. But
whereas in the 1980s the agents of gentrification bumped up directly against
the visible reminders of growing polarisation, in 2006 the ongoing gentrifi-
cation of the inner-city was accompanied by Project Civil City, a municipal
policy that served to operationalise the ‘clean and safe’ mentality that has
become a mantra amongst proponents of entrepreneurial development.13 In
this context PCC is an example of what Brenner and Theodore describe as
a flanking mechanism ‘through which to insulate powerful economic actors
from the manifold failures of the market, the state, and governance that are
persistently generated within a neoliberal political framework’.14 Importantly,
this was envisioned as an explicit legacy for the city, one timed to take advan-
tage of the ‘tremendous opportunity’15 presented by the Games but intended
to buttress long-term objectives of developing Vancouver ‘as an area both for
market-oriented economic growth and for elite consumption practices’.16
Project Civil City was formally abandoned as city policy approximately
one year before the Olympics due to the particularities of municipal politics.
Nevertheless, the 28-month period that PCC was official policy of Vancouver
398 The Olympics, Security and Globalisation

reflects the ‘trial-and-error searching process in which neoliberal strategies are

being mobilized in place-specific forms and combinations in order to confront
some of the many regulatory problems that have afflicted advanced capitalist
cities during the post-1970s period’.17 Overall, this experiment in urban gov-
ernance underscores how, in the context of intensifying neoliberal growth and
escalating social polarisation, governing the ‘externalities’ of the neoliberal
order is rapidly becoming a central – if not the core task – of municipal govern-
ments in which Olympic host cities are often pioneers.

Surveillance assemblages

The second point of discussion centres on how the Games can be used to
accelerate improvement in security capabilities and surveillance infrastructures
intended from the outset to be of lasting utility beyond the Games. These
legacies can include investments in policing and public safety hardware such
as video surveillance networks, legislative or policy tools that remain in force
after the event, new or modified institutional structures, and intangible out-
comes such as the development of practice expertise pertaining to a wide range
of public safety fields. While these outcomes are not necessarily new, what is
novel about the past decade is that these legacies are not accidental, partial or
post-hoc outcomes but explicitly articulated components of the Olympic busi-
ness plan intended from the outset to capitalise on an opportune moment.
Peter Ryan, one of the IOC’s foremost security consultants and former top law
enforcement official during the 2000 Games, clearly articulates this kind of
opportunism when he states: ‘The preparations for the Games and the invest-
ment in security infrastructure will be an enormous legacy for the country
and its national security capability after the Games are over. This opportunity
should not be wasted.’18
In Greece, security arrangements for the 2004 Games were nested within
the broader modernisation of the Greek national security apparatus that had
been ongoing for a least a decade in advance of the Games.19 In this context,
Greece’s Minister of Public Safety said of the 2004 Games’ unprecedented $1.5
billion security budget:

This great expenditure is not concerned only with the duration of the
Olympics. It is an investment for the future. The special training, technical
know-how, and ultramodern equipment will turn the Hellenic Police into
one of the best and most professional in the world, for the benefit of the
Greek people.20

Likewise, security for the 2008 Beijing Games was bundled within the ‘Grand
Beijing Safeguard Sphere’, itself one of nearly 300 Safe Cities programs being
 Philip Boyle 399

pursued by the Chinese government across the country. In Beijing this involved
the implementation of an estimated 300,000 fully networked CCTV cameras,
mandatory residential ID cards for all inhabitants, and a host of rumoured mon-
itoring capabilities such as facial recognition software, long-range RFID detec-
tion capabilities (to scan the mandatory ID cards from a distance), and wiretaps
in taxis and hotels frequented by foreigners. The cumulative effect of this sur-
veillance surge is that it is Beijing, not London, may now be home to the most
video surveillance cameras in the world, a legacy that prompts cultural critic
Naomi Klein to refer to post-Games Beijing as ‘Police State 2.0’.21
These initiatives exemplify a number of dynamics in the field of security and
surveillance field after 9/11, two of which will be underscored here. First, these
efforts reflect a deep-seated faith in technology as a ‘fix’ for contemporary secu-
rity anxieties.22 This is significant in the context of high-profile events because
these events have become occasions where new technologies are showcased
before moving towards more widespread adoption. For example, the 2008
Games marked the largest use of RFID-enabled tickets to date in an exercise
that will likely mark the onset of the widespread adoption of this technology
for future events. The implications of this are manifold in light of the fact that
the RFID tickets in Beijing enabled authorities the theoretical capability to
track the whereabouts of the tickets, and hence of the purchasers themselves,
by linking the tickets with information collected at the time of purchase.
These examples also exemplify how the integration of various surveillance
technologies across entire urban domains into unified systems is a key aim
in the security field today. This has been discussed in more general terms
as the ‘surveillant assemblage’, which describes the ‘desire to bring systems
together, to combine practices and technologies and integrate them into a
larger whole [. . .] with such combinations providing for exponential increases
in the degree of surveillance capacity’.23 The centerpiece of security efforts for
the 2004 Games, for example, was a digital communications and data back-
bone provided by an American technology and engineering firm designed
to centralise information and communications from all security-related sub-
systems including dozens of command centres, multiple video surveillance
networks, and an overhead surveillance blimp.24 Similarly, preparations for
the 2012 Games include efforts to make the city’s patchwork of video surveil-
lance networks spread amongst public and private authorities to be accessible
to the Metropolitan Police, which if accomplished would significantly boost
the Met’s video surveillance reach. The integration of existing systems will be
made easier in the future as more are built to be compliant with industry-wide
standards rather than proprietary specifications, thus allowing a theoretically
infinite daisy chain of interoperable systems to be integrated.
If assemblages are ‘all about linking, cross-referencing, [and] pulling threads
together that previously were separate’, then the Olympics often provide the
400 The Olympics, Security and Globalisation

need and opportunity for authorities to pull together surveillance assemblages

whose power of scrutiny is significantly greater than the sum of its constitu-
ent parts.25 Importantly, these are often delivered as explicit legacies for the
host city alongside hospitality improvements of transportation upgrades. This
raises questions about the inherent desirability of these legacies in relation to
civil and political rights such as privacy and the expression of dissent, as well
as to what areas of spending are crowded out in the pursuit of security legacies.
But as the next section will discuss, there are powerful non-local influences
involved in the production of these legacies, meaning that any attempt to grap-
ple with these questions cannot be done so on a purely local level.

Learning from others

A recurring theme in the official discourse surrounding Olympic security is the

value of learning from the experience of previous Olympic hosts. Authorities
routinely express the importance of identifying and incorporating ‘best prac-
tices’ from previous Olympics while avoiding the negative lessons of poorly
managed events. Such activities are not necessarily new to major events or
policing in general, but in the preceding decade these networks have dra-
matically expanded to include non-state actors and now reach well beyond the
European and North American core.
State-to-state interactions involving observation programs and debriefing
sessions between state counterparts are at the core of this field. Since 2000
these state activities have been paralleled by the IOC’s Olympic Games
Knowledge Management Program, which is geared towards ‘capitalizing and
transferring “know-how” from Games to Games’, including security-related
know-how, through observation programs, access to IOC experts, and archival
documentation from previous organising committees. Supra-national govern-
ing organisations are also becoming more involved in the formulation of major
event security best practices. Since 2005 Interpol, the UN and the EU have all
created research units dedicated to major events that seek to facilitate state-to-
state interactions, information sharing, and encourage cross-border harmonisa-
tion of relevant policies and practices.
These state and non-state institutional networks are being joined by a wide
range of private sector actors, most notably security consultancy and technology
companies. These private sector actors do not constitute closed institutional
networks such as those outlined above so much as they seek to influence or
interact with these networks for gain. They do so primarily ( but not exclusively)
by recruiting former public officials involved in past events as subject-matter
experts, ‘their name implying both high-quality service as well as access to pow-
erful policy networks’.26 The security industry thus offers numerous career path-
ways for retired public officials valued for the personal and professional capital
 Philip Boyle 401

they embody. This career trajectory is exemplified by Peter Ryan, who, after
overseeing security for the 2000 Sydney Games as the Chief of the New South
Wales police, joined the IOC as a security consultant and has since fashioned a
career as one of the world’s foremost major-event security experts.
Despite the emphasis that officials put on learning from others, these
networks do not necessarily amount to the disinterested free market of best
practices they are often presented to be. Not all knowledge – such as military
or commercial secrets – will be shared between even the closest of allies, and
the hosting of debriefing sessions or production of after-action reports can-
not be separated from the desire of authorities to use these occasions to hide
failure and burnish success.27 Prevailing political relations also structure the
field within which best practices travel. This can range from what Bennett calls
‘transfer by penetration’28 where powerful actors impose their knowledge on
others, such as when security arrangements for the 2004 Athens Games were
influenced to a high degree by the ‘advice’ of the Olympic Security Advisory
Group (OSAG),29 to where the transfer of knowledge is blocked, such as in the
case of the 2008 Games where participation in Olympic-related observation
programs and high-level conferences by China were more likely calculated
efforts to foster the perception of joining the international community rather
than a genuine effort to learn from others.30
More importantly, these networks constitute and circulate powerful discourses
about the nature and desirability of developing long-term security legacies
from hosting major events discussed in the previous section. The EU research
program, for example, aims to ensure that ‘the resources and know-how made
available for major events such as infrastructure, training and technology solu-
tions would enhance overall national capabilities and improve daily routine
activities after the event’.31 This approach is strongly reinforced by the private
security industry as it offers the potential of long-term markets for their wares.
Consequently – but unsurprisingly – the security industry is a strong advocate of
the benefits of leveraging the Games for lasting security legacies. A clear example
of this advocacy is found in a pair of security conferences for UK government
officials held in 2007. Devoted to the topic of ‘creating the security legacy of
2012’, both conferences were convened through the sponsorship of SAIC and
Northrop Grumman, each of which are military-industrial contractors seeking
large video surveillance integration projects associated with the 2012 Games.
These interests are merging in powerful ways in relation to cities of the
global south where major events are being held on a more regular basis. The
UN’s International Permanent Observatory, for example, has recently opened
regional platforms in Central/South America and the Southeast Pacific to
complement its existing research network in the European core. The IPO has
also embarked on its newest initiative – IPO TECH – which aims to develop
partnerships with ‘prominent technology suppliers’ to provide ‘proven’ security
402 The Olympics, Security and Globalisation

technologies to the organisers of major events and to train practitioners in its

use in developing countries. Given this initiative would provide the security
industry with a direct pathway into the rapidly expanding markets of the global
south it is little wonder that numerous multinational security firms are seeking
to establish themselves as the official partners of this IPO initiative.

Demonstrating preparedness

Security for the Games has become palpably visible in recent decades. To a certain
extent this visibility was unavoidable when military personnel and hardware
became standard elements of Olympic security after 1972.32 Yet, this visibility
is qualitatively different now in that it is calculated for public consumption. A
prominent example of this comes from the 2008 Beijing Games where ground-
to-air missile launchers were positioned in such a way that this installation and
the Beijing National Stadium could be captured within a single camera frame
from an open common, which quickly became the visual backdrop for numer-
ous journalists reporting from the field and beamed around the world. While
exceptional, this instance exemplifies a host of more mundane but readily
apparent ways in which calculated glimpses of military hardware, surveillance
technologies or other evidence of security preparedness are deliberately com-
municated to a viewing audience.
This ‘semiotic shift’ in security connects with the cultural dimensions of
living with low-probability, high-consequence after 9/11. One of the key
challenges for authorities in this context is to ‘show’ that all risks have been
contemplated and are manageable. As Beck puts it, the ‘hidden central issue
in world risk society is how to feign control over the uncontrollable’.33 Contrary
to Beck, however, this imperative is not intrinsic to all risk but emerges from
the cultural processes by which high-consequence risk is constituted.34 That is,
high-consequence risks are not just events but ideas that depend upon shared
valuations of meaning, emotional attachment and dread that come to be asso-
ciated with particular complexes of risk over others. In turn, this value-laden
process of determining high-consequence risk invites a performative dimen-
sion wherein authorities must demonstrate their command so as to turn what
are perceived to be unmanageable dangers into manageable risks.
Major sporting events and the Olympics in particular are one such cultur-
ally conditioned site. Whether or not the Olympics are genuinely ‘at risk’ of
catastrophic terrorism is not the most pressing issue in this context; what
matters is that the Olympics are widely thought to be vulnerable to a range of
unpredictable threats. Within this social imaginary, ‘the promise and apparatus
of rational planning itself becomes mainly rhetorical, becomes a means by
which plans – independent of their functional relevance to the task – can be
justified as reasonable promises that exigencies can be controlled’.35 From this
 Philip Boyle 403

vantage point we can interpret what officials say and are seen to do not simply
as factual representations of a precautionary approach, as some have argued,36
but as performative utterances concerned with ensuring that the ‘appearance of
securability and manageability is maintained’.37
The example of the calculated arrangement of military hardware and Olympic
symbolism in Beijing that this section started out with is one such communica-
tive device. So are the highly dramatised security exercises that are now routinely
held in advance of the Games, which are now pre-Games rituals themselves that
serve to mark the progressive tooling-up of the security apparatus, culminating
in full operational readiness, or being ‘stood up’ as Vancouver officials liked to
say. Also significant are the public pronouncements of ‘managers of unease’38
who express confidence that security plans are up to the task. Atkinson and
Young, for example, report how statements from public officials leading up to
the 2002 Games were ‘brimming with confidence with respect to US military
resources’ to keep the Games safe after 9/11.39 The production of what Clarke
has called ‘fantasy documents’ is another way that authorities ‘show’ that all
risks are manageable.40 Fantasy documents are the plans, statements, reports
and the like put forth by government and/or private organisations that grow
out of ‘the managerial need to do something about potentially grave danger’.41
The candidacy files put forth by prospective host cities to the IOC are a case
in point on this. The security sections of Olympic bid books are full of ‘fantasy’
projections detailing how many officers and volunteers can be mobilised to
protect the Games, what sorts of technological innovations can be deployed,
the country’s level of expertise developed through previous major events, guar-
antees from various levels of government, the organisational structure that will
coordinate security efforts, and the financial cost of it all. While these docu-
ments are not fabrications, they almost invariably bear little resemblance to
what is needed when the Games finally come to town. This disjuncture is par-
ticularly stark when it comes to the financial estimates associated with security
provision, which are almost always extremely conservative. Exemplifying this
is the CAD$175 million bid-book estimate for security at the 2010 Vancouver
Winter Games, which the RCMP later regarded as ‘conceptual’ and ‘arrived at
with limited RCMP input’ and that later ballooned to CAD$1 billion.42
To treat the rhetorical work of managers of unease, the staging of highly
visible demonstration projects, and the production of fantasy documents as
cultural performances is not to lapse into a form of blanket cynicism where all
things said and done by security officials have no functional substance behind
them. Yet neither is it to uncritically accept what officials say and do as factual
representations. Instead, they can be regarded as cultural responses to the
normalisation of radical uncertainty regarding high-consequence risk, some-
thing that is brought to the fore with the Olympics but intrinsic to the politics
of security today wherein security, much like justice, must be seen to be done.
404 The Olympics, Security and Globalisation

Conclusion

The Olympic Games are microcosms of a number of trends in security govern-

ance today. As one of the premier platforms for global media exposure they
are highly sought after by local growth coalitions seeking to remake urban
identities and garner a greater share of people and capital ‘of the right sort’.
This, in turn, demands a host of transformations to the urban environment,
part of which includes concerted efforts to sweep away the ‘externalities’ pro-
duced by previous rounds of entrepreneurial development. The Olympics are
also lightning rods for concerns about terrorism that routinely call forth a state
of exception mentality wherein aggressive security and surveillance measures
are the norm. Integrated and centralised video surveillance networks, ongoing
risk assessments, the pre-emptive surveillance of athletes, attendees and local
inhabitants, extensive urban fortifications, the intensive policing of dissent, and
nested security perimeters that encircle entire metropolitan regions (and further)
are now standard elements of what some have called ‘stage-set security’.43
Importantly, these measures can endure long after the events are over.
This can be attributed to a range of political and institutional motivations that
will be unique to each case, but on the whole can include the desire of host
governments to accelerate pre-existing improvement projects, the activities
of international governing organisations to achieve developmental goals, and
the profit-seeking interests of the security industry to promote ‘established’
security solutions for major event security in order to gain toeholds in new
markets. These varied interests are welded together by the career trajectories
of experienced officials – such as Peter Ryan but including many others – who
‘knowingly create careers for themselves through and against broader political-
economic processes’44 by crisscrossing between state, non-state, and corporate
entities, producing a ‘dominant – albeit complex and fluctuating – coalescence
of interests’ that seeks to ensure that the Olympics will result in a step change in
the security infrastructure of the host city and state.45
These developments are couched in cultural outcomes associated with the
Games that are more difficult to empirically substantiate but no less important
to consider. Each round of the Games is now preceded by an extended period of
public discourse about security for the event. Part of this discourse is critical
of the Games and of security efforts in particular. However, the overwhelming
current speaks to the necessity of enhanced security in the face of the multiplic-
ity of security threats that face the Games. Media reports ahead of the Games
routinely draw on the opinions of security ‘experts’ who highlight the diffi-
culties of securing public and highly complex events in urban environments
and speculate on the range of unforeseeable catastrophes that might befall the
Games. This is reinforced by the steady flow of assurances from authorities that
they are planning for any and all possibilities, including worst-case scenarios.
 Philip Boyle 405

The confluence of these factors may ultimately be an environment of height-

ened insecurity where the uptake of enhanced security measures is deemed
a necessary, acceptable and rational response commensurate to heightened
risk, while arguments to the contrary are swept away by the claim that these
‘temporary’ measures are a small price to pay for putting the city on the world
map. Recognising this, authorities can seize upon weakened public opposition
as an opportunity to push through measures only tangentially connected to
the Games. A glimpse of this is gained from a leaked Whitehall memo from the
‘No. 10 Policy Working Group on Security, Crime and Justice, Technological
Advances’, which deals with the implementation of a number of surveillance
measures in the UK including the expansion of a DNA database for suspected
terrorists and their families. In anticipating the public disapproval that such
measures might encounter, the memo concludes: ‘Increasing [public] support
could be possible through the piloting of certain approaches in high-profile
ways such as the London Olympics.’46
A number of avenues for future research into major events are suggested in
this chapter, the most pressing of which are in the potential for the Games
to exacerbate social polarisation in the name of putting on a good show and
undercutting democratic principles and practices in the name of keeping the
Games safe. As has been shown, such measures can be planned legacies as
authorities capitalise on the Games as an opportunity to meet a variety of
governmental ambitions. It is crucially important to remember that these
ambitions are powerfully reinforced by a number of non-local forces and inter-
ests that influence how local authorities approach the Games. As such, there
is a critical need to not only investigate the specific security legacies of the
Games but how the epistemic networks that are emerging around major events
contribute to the development of these legacies by disciplining or undercutting
local decision-making processes, particularly if these legacies lead to inflated
security expenditures that crowd out other spending areas (such as housing)
or contribute to the development and dissemination of models and technolo-
gies for facilitating state control over domestic populations that are justified as
the outcome of a process of international collaboration. These questions are
particularly pressing given that the Games are being held with more frequency
in the rapidly developing but highly polarised cities of the global south where
major events are sought as markers of modernisation, so it is of prime impor-
tance to examine the role of these security networks in shaping major event
security in specific contexts in the future.

Notes
1. Boyle and Haggerty, ‘Spectacular Security: Mega-events and the Security Complex’.
2. Juergensmeyer, ‘Understanding the New Terrorism’.
406 The Olympics, Security and Globalisation

3. Atkinson and Young, ‘Political Violence, Terrorism, and Security at the Olympic
Games’.
4. All figures are in US dollars unless otherwise indicated.
5. Thompson, ‘Olympic Security Collaboration’.
6. SIA, China Security Market Report Special Supplement: Olympic Update.
7. Atkinson and Young, ‘Political Violence, Terrorism, and Security at the Olympic
Games’; Decker et al., ‘Safety and Security at Special Events: The Case of the Salt
Lake City Olympic Games’; Decker et al., ‘Routine Crime in Exceptional Times:
The Impact of the 2002 Winter Olympics on Citizen Demand for Police Services’;
Lenskyj, The Best Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of Sydney 2000; Lenskyj, ‘Olympic
Power, Olympic Politics: Behind the Scenes’; Tulloch, ‘Terrorism, “Killing Events”,
and their Audience: Fear of Crime at the 2000 Olympics’.
8. Boyle and Haggerty, ‘Spectacular Security: Mega-events and the Security Complex’;
Coaffee and Wood, ‘Security is Coming Home: Rethinking Scale and Constructing
Resilience in the Global Urban Response to Terrorist Risk’; Giulianotti and Klauser,
‘Security Governance and Sports Mega-events: Towards an Interdisciplinary Research
Agenda’; Samatas, ‘Security and Surveillance in the Athens 2004 Olympics: Some
Lessons from a Troubled Story’; Schimmel, ‘Deep Play: Sports Mega-events and
Urban Social Conditions in the USA’; Yu et al., ‘Governing Security at the 2008
Beijing Olympics’.
9. Lenskyj, Olympic Industry Resistance: Challenging Olympic Power and Propaganda, 18.
10. COV, Project Civil City Jun. '08 Progress Update, 10.
11. Brenner and Theodore, ‘Cities and the Geographies of “Actually Existing
Neoliberalism”’, 351.
12. Olds, ‘Hallmark Events, Evictions, and Housing Rights’.
13. Sleiman and Lippert, ‘Downtown Ambassadors, Police Relations and “Clean and
Safe” Security’.
14. Brenner and Theodore, ‘Cities and the Geographies of “Actually Existing
Neoliberalism”’, 374.
15. COV, Project Civil City, 6.
16. Brenner and Theodore, ‘Cities and the Geographies of “Actually Existing
Neoliberalism”’, 368.
17. Ibid., 374.
18. Ryan, Olympic Security: The Relevance to Homeland Security.
19. Samatas, Surveillance in Greece: From Anticommunist to Consumer Surveillance.
20. Floridis, ‘Security for the 2004 Athens Olympic Games’, 4.
21. Dickinson, Under Surveillance: Q ⫹ A with Naomi Klein.
22. Lyon, ‘Technology vs. “Terrorism”: Circuits of City Surveillance since September 11th’.
23. Haggerty and Ericson, ‘The Surveillant Assemblage’.
24. Samatas, ‘Security and Surveillance in the Athens 2004 Olympics: Some Lessons from
a Troubled Story’.
25. Lyon, ‘Technology vs. “Terrorism” . . . ’, 647.
26. O’Reilly, ‘The Transnational Security Consultancy Industry: A Case of State-corporate
Symbiosis’, 190.
27. Birkland, ‘Disasters, Lessons Learned, and Fantasy Documents’.
28. Bennett, ‘What Is Policy Convergence and What Causes It?’.
29. The OSAG comprised Israel, France, Germany, Spain, Australia, the USA and the UK.
30. Thompson, ‘Olympic Security Collaboration’.
31. UNICRI, Towards a European House of Security at Major Events, 7.
32. Cottrell, ‘The Legacy of Munich 1972: Terrorism, Security and the Olympic Games’.
 Philip Boyle 407

33. Beck, ‘The Terrorist Threat: World Risk Society Revisited’, 41, emphasis in original.
34. Douglas and Wildavsky, Risk and Culture: An Essay on the Selection of Technological and
Environmental Dangers.
35. Clarke, Mission Impossible: Using Fantasy Documents in the Popular Imagination, 4.
36. Toohey and Taylor, ‘Mega-events, Fear, and Risk: Terrorism at the Olympic Games’.
37. Amoore and de Goede, ‘Governing Risk in the War on Terror’, 9.
38. Bigo, ‘Security and Immigraton: Towards a Critique if the Governmentalty of Unease’.
39. Atkinson and Young, ‘Political Violence, Terrorism, and Security at the Olympic
Games’, 278.
40. Clarke, Mission Impossible: Using Fantasy Documents in the Popular Imagination.
41. Ibid., 19.
42. RCMP, Planning Update.
43. Coaffee et al., The Everyday Resilience of the City: How Cities Respond to Terrorism and
Disaster, 226.
44. Larner and Larner, ‘Travelling Technocrats, Embodied Knowledges: Globalizing
Privatization in Telecoms and Water’, 219.
45. O’Reilly, ‘The Transnational Security Consultancy Industry: A Case of State-Corporate
Symbiosis’, 196.
46. Hennessy and Leapman, ‘Ministers Plan “Big Brother” Police Powers’.

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25
The Use of Performance-enhancing
Substances in the Olympic Games:
A Critical History
Ian Ritchie

Introduction

After the infamous Ben Johnson drug scandal at the 1988 Seoul Summer
Olympics, the Canadian government created the Commission of Inquiry
into the Use of Drugs and Banned Practices Intended to Increase Athletic
Performance, commonly referred to as the Dubin Inquiry after Chief Justice
Charles Dubin, who chaired the proceedings. In his report to the Canadian
people, Dubin claimed that drugs represented the single greatest moral threat
to sport and its integrity. Drugs, Dubin claimed, were the ‘antithesis’ of sport
and their use ‘threatened the essential integrity of sport and is destructive of
its very objectives’.1 Reiterating the same philosophy, the World Anti-Doping
Agency’s World Anti-Doping Code states in its preamble that drug rules ‘seek to
preserve what is intrinsically valuable about sport. This intrinsic value is often
referred to as “the spirit of sport”, it is the essence of Olympism’.2
The statements by both Dubin and the World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA)
reflect a general concern on the part of the International Olympic Committee
(IOC), National Olympic Committees, International Sport Federations, sport
administrators, coaches, athletes and the public in general, with the problem of
drug use in high-performance sport.3 No other single issue in sport is thought
to pose a greater threat to the integrity of sport – the Olympic Games in
particular – and certainly no other perceived problem has warranted the same
commitment of time, money and organisational effort. The issue is worthy
of careful analysis for these reasons alone. However, the issue also represents
for sociologists, historians, philosophers and other sports studies scholars
an opportunity to study an important element of social life. It represents for
sociologists the opportunity to study a real-life case of deviant behaviour, for
historians the opportunity to study the shifting dynamics of high-performance
sport and the Olympic Games movement, and finally for philosophers it offers
the possibility to engage in lively debates regarding the ethics of sport.

410
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 Ian Ritchie 411

The purpose of this chapter is to introduce major fields of inquiry into

the issue of banned substance use in the Olympic Games, to provide a brief
history of the use of banned – and unbanned – substances and methods in the
Olympic movement, to highlight recent historical and sociological research
into that history, and finally to highlight the implications and to suggest areas
of future inquiry. The summary to follow cannot by any means be inclusive.
This chapter does not discuss the medical or scientific nature of drugs them-
selves, the organisational structure or legal-political issues related to anti-drug
groups such as WADA, or the technical aspects of drug detection methods.4
Also, some readers may find the history of doping section fairly slim given the
long history of doping cases, the complex array of drugs used, the intricacies
of policies and detection procedures, and so forth.
The objective of this chapter, instead, is to begin to introduce potential
answers to much more general questions, with two overriding ones highlighted.
First, why were drugs used systematically in the first place in the Olympic
movement in modern times – what caused the ‘moral problem’? Second, why
were drugs banned in the first place – why did the IOC take steps to prohibit
certain substances? Along the way, the other purpose of this chapter is to pro-
vide a general historical and sociological framework upon which scholars can
build research towards a greater understanding of this important issue. Finally,
this chapter points out that the various ways in which doping and anti-doping
history is presented in-and-of-itself represents political points of view and ideo-
logical positions on the topic. Much of the recent historical and sociological
literature paints a very different picture of the issue than the status quo one
painted by the IOC, WADA and other anti-doping organisations. The implica-
tions of these critical sociological and historical accounts are discussed at the
end of this chapter.

Major areas of inquiry

As the issue of drug use has received greater attention, as rules and procedures
for detection have become more stringent, as more resources have been applied
to those procedures, and as the problem has continued unabated for almost a
half-century, a greater body of literature across several disciplines has emerged
to understand different aspects of the issue. There are four streams of research
that have emerged to study the use of drugs in sport in general and in the
Olympic movement in particular.
First, within the philosophy of sport there have been ongoing debates, espe-
cially since the 1980s, regarding the major ethical arguments against the use
of drugs.5 The philosophical debates emerged at the height of Cold War sport
when it became obvious that athletes on both sides of the ‘iron curtain’ were
using illicit substances to enhance performance, when there was a growing
412 The Use of Performance-enhancing Substances in the Olympic Games

awareness on the part of the general public of the problem, and when debates
accelerated in academic circles, especially during the aftermath of the Ben
Johnson scandal in the late 1980s and early 1990s.6
Three justifications have been used to warrant the ban on drugs: drugs corrupt
the ‘spirit’ of sport, or the fundamental ‘essence’ or ‘ethos’ of what sport is meant
to be; drugs are physically harmful to athletes and they challenge the noble
image of the healthy and well-rounded athlete; and finally, drugs corrupt the
ideal of the fair playing field – they provide an unfair advantage. The soundness
of the justifications themselves has always been, and continues to be, plagued
by several problems, the most obvious of which is the glaring contradictions of
performance-enhancing techniques, scientific discoveries, technological devices
and general practices that are permitted and considered perfectly acceptable in
high-performance training and competition, despite the fact that they often
contradict the logic and rationale of anti-doping prohibitions. These contradic-
tions include unequal access to material resources, facilities and expertise from
either private or state sources; technologically advanced swimsuits, bobsleds,
speed skates and other equipment; state- and privately run ‘secret’ funding and
performance-aid programs;7 access to high-altitude training and, recently, hypo-
baric or ‘hypoxic’ tents or rooms designed to allow endurance athletes to simul-
taneously live and train in high-altitude and low-altitude conditions; and the
various muscle tears, injuries, body disorders through weight loss, and general
unhealthy excesses the human body experiences through the ‘natural’ process
of high-performance training. These are just the proverbial tip of the iceberg
in terms of contradictions of practices that are accepted but not prohibited.8
Interestingly, standard introductory texts in sport philosophy and sport sociol-
ogy now commonly point out these contradictions, demonstrating that there is
growing public awareness that the ethical issue is far from obvious.9
A second major stream of inquiry is in the policy-related and legal aspects of
anti-doping procedures and regulations. These consider the efficacy and ethics
of detection and surveillance procedures over athletes;10 organisations involved
with drug control, both within nation states and across borders (namely
WADA), including the power, structure and legitimacy of those organizations;11
and legal standards and practices, including the implementation of WADA’s
Code, the strict liability standard in doping infractions, the enforcement of
sanctions, and the legal rights of athletes, including the role of the Court of
Arbitration for Sport and the general role – or lack therein – of athletes in the
legal and policy-creation processes.12
The third stream of inquiry is related directly to sociology and it includes the
study of deviant behaviour and subcultures from the general perspective of the
social construction of deviance. An important milestone is Robert Hughes’s
and Jay Coakley’s ‘Positive Deviance among Athletes: The Implications of
Overconformity to the Sport Ethic’.13 The authors add to the classic typology
 Ian Ritchie 413

of deviant behaviour offered by the famous American sociologist Robert

Merton, who claimed that deviant behaviour can be understood as individuals’
adaptations to cultural goals and the institutional means available to achieve
those goals.14 Hughes and Coakley maintain that in the right social environ-
ment, athletes ‘overconform’ to what they refer to as a ‘sport ethic’, or a set of
value orientations that guide decisions and actions. The ethic’s criteria include
accepting pain and sacrifice, taking physical risks, and refusing to accept limi-
tations, all of which become a ‘normal’ part of serious athletes’ working lives.
For elite athletes, the sport ethic means a very different line of criteria between
what is considered ‘normal’ and ‘pathological’ compared to the one drawn by
lay people, and for that matter anti-doping authorities or sport administra-
tors. As former professional cyclist Robert Millar said, in widely publicised
comments in the aftermath of the 1998 Tour de France drug scandal:

The riders reckon that a good Tour takes one year off your life. [. . . ] The
pain in your legs is not the kind of pain you get when you cut yourself, it’s
fatigue, it’s self-imposed. [. . .] You can’t describe to a normal person how
tired you feel. [. . .] I can understand guys being tempted to use drugs in
the Tour. [. . .] I don’t think it’s an isolated cycling thing, people just expect
sport to be cleaner than real life.15

Athletes’ real-life experiences of pain and sacrifice, and the resulting line of
demarcation between what is ‘normal’ or ‘deviant’ behaviour as a result of
those experiences, is crucially important, yet largely misunderstood.
Finally, critical historical accounts attempt to understand the specific circum-
stances in which the widespread and systematic use of drugs in the Olympic
movement occurred and the circumstances that led to the creation of anti-
doping rules and regulations. This research tends to concentrate on the period
during which drug use in the Olympic Games first became a major problem –
roughly, the 1950s and 1960s, when bureaucratically organised national sport
systems emerged and the all-out pursuit of world records became an almost
unquestioned mantra. Some histories have pointed to the case of the German
Democratic Republic, which for three decades maintained a system of ‘sup-
plementary materials’;16 however, more recent histories have tended to avoid
the naïve claim that the GDR’s sport system alone ‘forced the hand’ of other
countries. The emergence of the systematic use of amphetamines and anabolic
steroids took place in a truly international context in which sport systems
of both Western and Eastern-bloc countries participated. This body of work
includes John Hoberman’s (1992) seminal text Mortal Engines: The Science of
Performance and the Dehumanization of Sport, Ivan Waddington’s (2000) Sport,
Health and Drugs: A Critical Sociological Perspective, Andy Miah’s (2004) Genetically
Modified Athletes: Biomedical Ethics, Gene Doping and Sport, Rob Beamish’s and
414 The Use of Performance-enhancing Substances in the Olympic Games

Ian Ritchie’s (2006) Fastest, Highest, Strongest: A Critique of High-Performance

Sport, Paul Dimeo’s (2007) A History of Drug Use in Sport 1876–1976: Beyond Good
and Evil, Verner Møller’s (2010) The Ethics of Doping and Anti-Doping: Redeeming
the Soul of Sport? and Thomas Hunt’s (2011) Drug Games: The International
Olympic Committee and the Politics of Sport, 1960–2008.17 These sources alongside
some other edited reviews will be discussed in the next section, which critically
analyse the history of drug use and the creation of anti-doping prohibitions in
the Olympic Games movement.

Historical and sociological approaches: critical inquiries into

performance-enhancement

There are now many well-documented accounts of drug use in the history of
sport generally, and in the Olympic Games in particular. These accounts are
usually in agreement (although not always, as we will see in a moment) as
to the most important events and personalities involved in ‘doping history’.
However, what is ultimately much more important than the details of this
history are what people make of these accounts – how they interpret them. This
section provides a brief summary of the use of performance-enhancing sub-
stances in the Olympic Games (and sport more generally), concentrating on the
modern period, defined as from the inception of the modern Games onwards,
or in other words the late-19th century to the present. It also provides a brief
summary of rules, regulations, prohibitive measures and organisations within
the Olympic movement that have attempted to curb the practice of substance
use from the middle of the 20th century to the present. The second part of this
section summarises critical historical and sociological treatments of the events
described in the first. As such, the latter part of this section is by far the most
important in terms of critically thinking about the issue. It is this final part that
addresses the point made above – that how ‘facts’ of history are interpreted is
more important than the ‘facts’ themselves.

A brief history of performance-enhancing substance use

in the Olympic Games
Virtually all accounts of the use of performance enhancers in sport point out
that the use of various substances is very old and quite common in human
history. However, it is a mistake to conclude from this observation that the
various sporting practices, and the various social and cultural values underlying
those practices, have been essentially the same over time – they have not. Sport
is an ever-changing social enterprise which, as every sport sociologist acknowl-
edges, is both a reflection of its immediate surroundings and also reinforces
cultural values at the same time. Indeed, the complex relationship between
sport and the attendant cultural and social environments within which it
 Ian Ritchie 415

exists is something sociologists and others in related disciplines have been

deciphering for years, and they will continue to do so for years to come.18 But
the important point regarding substance use and performance enhancement
over time is that in many – although certainly not all – historical and cultural
contexts we find examples of athletes using various substances to improve per-
formance; the practice of using performance-enhancing substances is certainly
not a reflection of modern times alone. Given this, the goal of sociologists
and historians is to flesh out the cultural values regarding what it meant to
‘perform’ in sport during various historical periods, and the attendant cultural
values underlying whether or not aids were used in the attempt to perform in
each respective case. Of course, this includes the unique case of contemporary
times and the modern Olympic Games.
Ancient Greek athletes, including those competing in the ancient Olympic
Games, alongside Roman gladiators are known to have ingested various sub-
stances and concoctions, without any moral qualms about doing so. Historians
of the ancient Olympics now generally agree that part of the reason for this
lack of moral concern was the ‘winner take all’ attitude that would by any
modern standards be considered extreme.19 Ancient athletes regularly experi-
mented with various diets to improve performance, drank wine and brandy,
ingested mushrooms, and consumed animal organs as an early form of energy
creation. Also, there is evidence from ancient Norse, African, Andean, Mexican
and other societies of the frequent use of plant derivatives to enhance endur-
ance, delay fatigue, increase vitality and strength, and heighten combativeness
during warfare.20
In modern times, the mid-to-late 19th century witnessed a rise in interest in
various substances to enhance energy, avoid fatigue and even to extend life itself.
Some of these substances and the experiments into their use were the precursors
to 20th-century amphetamine and anabolic steroid use. Perhaps most famously,
the prominent French physiologist Charles-Edouard Brown-Séquard injected
himself with ‘testicular extracts’ of animals that, he reported to the Society of
Biology in Paris in 1889, gave him renewed physical energy and mental acuity.
Around the same time, cyclists, long-distance walkers and runners, and other
athletes used various substances that were thought to enhance endurance and
there arose a concomitant interest on the part of scientists to study the effects
of these substances in a ‘real-life’ setting. Alcohol, coca, kola, oxygen, cocaine
and strychnine were among the most common experimental products used and
studied. Endurance multi-day cycling and pedestrianism races were particularly
conducive to substance use given the extreme fatigue experienced and energy
expended. The first purported death of an athlete came during one such
endurance cycling race in 1886, when Englishman Arthur Linton supposedly
overdosed on ‘tri-methyl’. However, there is good evidence that Linton’s death
was mis-reported and that he did not die until 1896, of typhoid fever.
416 The Use of Performance-enhancing Substances in the Olympic Games

The use of stimulants, including derivatives of amphetamines, continued

during the first few decades of the 20th century, although the fairly common
use of amphetamines to fend off fatigue by soldiers during the Second World
War led, in part, to their even more common use by athletes in the post-war
period. Dimeo reports that a ‘pep pill mania’ emerged in athletics in the 1950s
and 1960s, and it is important to point out that in the USA, in particular,
this mania was not restricted to sport: ‘[a]mphetamines were not simply seen
as a “doping” substance at this time, but an acceptable and legitimate public
medicine.’21
In terms of anabolic steroids, which were first identified and synthesised
in the 1930s, the immediate post-war period was witness to, first, the general
interest in anabolic steroids to strengthen and rejuvenate the body for general
medical and therapeutic purposes, and second, their use in sport. The 1945
publication of Paul de Kruif’s The Male Hormone was a milestone. De Kruif had a
wide popular following and The Male Hormone strongly defended the ability of
the ‘newly discovered’ drug to enhance vigour and energy, build strength, com-
bat fatigue, improve quality of life, and even to extend the duration of life.22
Certainly de Kruif’s work alone did not spearhead the contemporary era of ana-
bolic steroid use by athletes, however, as Yesalis and Bahrke point out, when

combined with the significant positive observations reported from clinical

studies in professional journals, it was a relatively easy extrapolation for
some in the physical culture of bodybuilding to expect that additional
anabolic-androgenic hormones, at that time universally assumed to exert no
adverse effects when taken in therapeutic doses, would allow development
of greater-than-‘normal’ body size and strength.23

Indeed, Dimeo points out that the first experiment linking steroids to sport
performance was performed in the USA in 1944, with the positive results
published in the Journal of Clinical Endocrinology.24 The steps from de Kruif’s
somewhat polemical defence of steroids, to the scientific evidence regarding
the drug’s effectiveness, to the world of international competition were, then,
relatively small ones.
Evidence suggests that ‘anabolics’ were first used by body-builders and
weightlifters, and soon after by athletes in other sports, mainly in power
sports in track and field. However, the accelerated and systematic use of ana-
bolic steroids – and amphetamines for that matter – in the post-war period
has to be put in its proper political context. The immediate success of the
Union of Soviet Socialist Republics in the Olympic movement in 1952 sparked
rapid political and ideological competition. With the full commitment of
the respective politico-bureaucratic apparatus behind them, coaches, athletes
and administrators in both the USA and the USSR made performance in the
 Ian Ritchie 417

Olympic Games a top priority from 1952. Anabolic steroids became, as Dimeo
clearly demonstrates, part of the arsenal of performance-enhancing weaponry
both sides used to gain medals and, by association, political supremacy.25 For
the USSR it ‘meant a systematic application of doping medicine and science to
the problem of achieving excellence’ while, equally for the USA, ‘sports physi-
cians from the 1950s through to the late 1970s (at least) made the connection
between politics and doping: defeat in athletic competition to the communists
had to be avoided at all costs’.26
The case of the ‘origin story’ of the use of anabolic steroids is an interest-
ing one in terms of ‘finger pointing’ across the Cold War divide. At the 1954
World Weightlifting Championships, American coach Bob Hoffman and team
physician John Ziegler became convinced that the Soviet weightlifters were,
as Hoffman expressed it to the Associated Press, ‘taking the hormone stuff to
increase their strength’.27 Back in the USA, assisted by the Ciba Pharmaceutical
Company, which produced the synthetic steroid methandieone (Dianabol),
Ziegler gave the drug to weightlifters at the York Barbell Club in Pennsylvania.
From there, ‘[t]he news of anabolic steroids spread through the athletic com-
munity like wildfire’, Bob Goldman pointed out in Death in the Locker Room.28
By the 1960s the use of anabolic steroids had become common in weightlifting
circles, and spread to shot-putting, hammer-throwing, discus and several other
Olympic strength-related events.29 Importantly, however, Dimeo demonstrates
that the drugs did not filter from the Soviets to the west; while the exact facts
of this history are still somewhat cloudy, it is likely the case that both sides of
the ‘iron curtain’ were equally, and simultaneously, committed to the use of
anabolic steroids to improve performance in the increasingly heated atmos-
phere of Cold War Olympic sport.30
With rumours of accelerated use of amphetamines and anabolic steroids on
both sides of the Atlantic Ocean, the IOC attempted to seize control of the situ-
ation. Concerns had been raised by the particular cases of Danish cyclist Knud
Enemark Jensen, who collapsed and died during the road race in the 1960 Rome
Summer Games, and British cyclist Tommy Simpson, who died during the 1967
Tour de France, both apparently from amphetamine use.31 However, it should
be pointed out that the creation of the first rules against the use of performance-
enhancing substances were not simply a reflection of concerns about these
particular drug cases. Accelerated competition and the movement towards
full-time, professional training in both the east and the west; the threat many
practices – drug use being just one – posed to amateurism as the Olympic move-
ment’s ‘founding ethos’; and the perceived virilising effects of drugs on female
athletes, particularly those in Eastern-bloc countries, were all matters the IOC
was concerned with in the heady political decades of the 1950s and 1960s.
Practices such as increased time and effort committed to training and
competition, or athletes receiving money for performance, were becoming
418 The Use of Performance-enhancing Substances in the Olympic Games

increasingly common and, from the perspective of some IOC members, even
spinning out of control. However, the IOC could do little about those issues,
and indeed almost immediately after staunch defender of amateurism Avery
Brundage stepped down as IOC President in 1972, in 1974 the IOC removed
the conditions of amateurism from the Olympic Charter forever.32 However,
the IOC did attempt to regulate two of its major concerns: drug use and the
perceived virilising effects of drugs on female athletes. At the Tehran meetings
in 1967, the IOC adopted drug and sex testing simultaneously while generating
a list of banned substances. Athletes as of 1968 were required to sign a pledge
to the effect that they would not use performance-enhancing drugs, female
athletes were required to undergo sex tests,33 and limited random drug tests
were conducted at the 1968 Mexico City Games. While there were no tests for
anabolic steroids at first, those tests were developed in 1973 and first imple-
mented at the Montreal Games in 1976.
Todd and Todd report that the three-decade period after the first tests were
performed saw continued systematic use of increasingly complex forms of
amphetamines and synthetically produced anabolic steroids; an increasingly
diverse array of drugs used for different purposes, including endurance-
producing methods and drugs, namely blood infusion in the 1980s and, subse-
quently, erythropoietin (EPO) in the 1990s; increased vigilance on the part of
the IOC and its Medical Commission, however with relatively few detections
relative to the probable number of athletes using various banned substances
over the years; and finally, an increased surveillance of athletes’ lives, including
out-of-competition, random, unannounced testing.34
Also, while the Ben Johnson scandal after the 1988 Seoul Summer Games was
dramatic, and while the ensuing Canadian government Inquiry into the use
of banned substances in Canada was observed with great interest by authori-
ties around the world, the events leading up to the creation of WADA in 1998
had a much more profound and long-term influence. Two incidents that year
were important. First, 13 vials of the synthetic human growth hormone (hGH)
somatropin were discovered in the bag of an athlete on China’s national swim
team at Sydney, Australia, airport, reaffirming long-held suspicions of drug use
in China. The second, and more important, event was the arrest and eventual
prosecution of Tour de France Festina team masseur Willy Voet for possession
of several drugs, including EPO, once again reaffirming the skeleton in profes-
sional cycling’s closet. These events, combined with the IOC’s legitimacy crises
following the famous 1998 bribery scandal and, that same year, president Juan
Antonio Samaranch’s widely cited and startling proclamation that the IOC’s
anti-doping list should be drastically reduced because, for him, ‘[d]oping is
everything that, firstly, is harmful to an athlete’s health and, secondly, artifi-
cially augments his performance. [. . .] If it’s the second case . . . it’s not dop-
ing. If it’s the first case, it is’, created a serious crisis.35 In February 1999, the
 Ian Ritchie 419

IOC held the ‘World Conference on Doping in Sport’ in Lausanne, establish-

ing WADA as an ‘independent’ body to monitor drug use world-wide. WADA’s
powers were, and continue to be, expansive: WADA sets global standards,
supports laboratory technology to improve detection procedures, and most
importantly, created the World Anti-Doping Code. Today, most countries around
the world have adopted the Code as have all International Sport Federations
and National Anti-Doping Organizations.36

Historical and sociological explanations for drug use and drug

prohibitions in the Olympic Games
Understanding events during the immediate post-war period is crucial in terms
of contextualising the entire ‘drug problem’ as a whole, because it was during
that period that the use of amphetamines, and later anabolic steroids, became
regular and systematic in international, high-performance Olympic sport. It
was also during this period of time that decisions were made to prohibit certain
substances and methods of performance enhancement. Indeed, the original
decision made to prohibit certain substances should not be taken for granted –
the supposed ‘clear and unambiguous’ ethics referred to by groups like WADA
today did not grow inevitably out of the ‘natural earth’ of sport. A particular
social and political climate, combined with the vested personal and political
interests of those people who created the first anti-doping rules, created the
situation that is taken for granted by many today.
Beamish and Ritchie make two major claims regarding the creation of drug
rules in the Olympic Games in the 1960s. First, the debates that occurred
within IOC circles that eventually led to the creation of the first formal pro-
hibitive regulation have to be understood in the context of the strong stance
the IOC took on amateurism and the importance of the amateur clause in the
Olympic Charter, especially during the presidency of Avery Brundage from
1952 to 1972. The IOC was fully aware of the threats to amateurism, not
only in terms of under-the-table payments in some sports such as downhill
skiing and indirect state support through militaries and universities, but also
the increasingly professional approach to training and competition taken by
athletes within sport systems in both Eastern-bloc and Western countries.
The IOC was gradually losing control of the other practices that threatened
the founding principles of the movement, however it could, in a relatively
simple step, create a rule banning certain identifiable substances. After years of
debate, the IOC irrevocably removed the amateur clause from its Charter but
in doing so, the authors point out, ‘the IOC cast aside the Games’ fundamental
principles [and] surrendered the philosophical grounds for justifying the prohi-
bition of particular performance-enhancing substances’.37
Second, the creation of anti-doping rules must also be considered in light
of the post-war concerns with anabolic steroids and their association with
420 The Use of Performance-enhancing Substances in the Olympic Games

the perceived role of sport as a tool for totalitarian regime-building. While

amphetamines were the ‘drug category of choice’ in the immediate post-war
period, steroids quickly took over as the main performance-enhancer of con-
cern. Anxieties regarding steroids’ ability to create ‘Frankenstein-like’ monsters
were particularly acute. Amphetamines’ ability to create energy ‘artificially’ was
one thing; however the perception that steroids would re-shape the human
body into something ‘monstrous’ beyond its ‘natural’ state was quite another.
The post-war anxieties go back to the last Games before the War started – Berlin
1936. The overt use of the Games for political propaganda by Adolf Hitler and
Joseph Goebbels, combined with rumours that the Nazis had used steroids to
increase aggressiveness in their troops during the Second World War,38 struck
hard in the imaginations of Western sport leaders in the immediate post-
war years, especially as rumours spread rapidly of the Soviets using anabolic
steroids to enhance the performance of their own athletes.
The following observation by Dr Nicholas Wade in the prestigious journal
Science in 1972 is an interesting commentary on this state of mind and is worth
considering at length:

The first use of male steroids to improve performance is said to have been
in World War II when German troops took them before battle to enhance
aggressiveness. After the war steroids were given to the survivors of German
concentration camps to rebuild body weight. The first use in athletics seems
to have been by the Russians in 1954. John D. Ziegler, a Maryland physi-
cian who was the US team physician to the weightlifting championships in
Vienna that year, told Science that Soviet weightlifters were receiving doses
of testosterone, a male sex hormone. The Russians were also using it on
some of their women athletes, Ziegler said. Besides its growth-promoting
effect, testosterone induces male sexual development such as deepening of
the voice and hirsuteness, which might account for the manifestation of
such traits in Soviet women athletes during the 1950s.39

In just six sentences, Wade connected Nazi military aggressiveness, concentra-

tion camp victims, the Soviets’ use of steroids for competition, and the potential
masculinisation of Eastern-bloc women. The creation of the banned substance
list in 1967 must be considered in the context of this post-war mindset. Ethics,
per se, was not necessarily the only or for that matter even an important factor in
the decision. Also, concerns regarding the potential virilising effects on Eastern-
bloc women were particularly acute, and sex and drug tests were introduced
simultaneously by the IOC.40 As Alison Wrynn points out in her careful and
thorough analysis of IOC policy decisions made during this period, ‘the gender
verification of female athletes [was] an artifact of drug use and fear of change as
women became larger, stronger, faster, and increasingly more competitive’.41
 Ian Ritchie 421

Dimeo complements the points made by Beamish and Ritchie, but from
a slightly different historical angle. Carefully studying the cast of characters
that played important roles in the creation of prohibitions, their personal and
organisational connections, and their motivations in the context of sport and
politics more generally in the 1950s and 1960s, Dimeo demonstrates that a
relatively small group of medical scientists and sports administrators with con-
servative views on sport re-shifted public and private discussions about drugs
away from the concerns about athletes’ health towards a moral crusade against
the ‘evils’ of drugs. Italy’s Antonio Venerando, Austria’s Ludwig Prokop, and
Britain’s J. G. P. Williams played particularly important roles; alongside a grow-
ing cadre of sport administrators – Brundage being by far the most important –
they shifted the debate for the next 50 years. Understanding this chapter in the
history of anti-doping is crucial. Dimeo is worth quoting at length:

[I]t is clear that the social, cultural and ethical perspective of scientists
were a subtle and implicit – but enormously powerful – force in setting the
framework for anti-doping in the 1960s. Their traditional, paternalistic view
of sport accompanied a strong faith in science as a solution to social prob-
lems. They also thought the ethics and science of anti-doping could and
should be implemented in other countries: they were proselytisers as well as
fanatics. It would not be long before they, and their colleagues, were using
major international networks to directly influence the sporting cultures in
other countries.42

Dimeo’s description of this moral crusade in the 1960s may seem to some an
exaggeration, but it is not. An article authored by Sir Arthur Porritt with the
simple title ‘Doping’, published in Olympic Review in 1965, is an important
example for three reasons: first, the Review was, and continues to be, a major
forum for the IOC’s policy positions; second, 1965 was the eve of the creation
of the IOC’s first anti-doping rules; and finally, Porritt was head of the IOC’s
Medical Committee, which would only two years later make recommenda-
tions at the IOC’s general meetings in Tehran, leading to the first anti-doping
rule. The moral crusade that Dimeo described is obvious in Porritt’s extremely
hyperbolic language. ‘Doping,’ the article begins, ‘is an evil – it is morally
wrong, physically dangerous, socially degenerate and legally indefensible.’
Drug use, the article continues, is a ‘sinister’ and ‘pernicious practice’, and
the athlete who uses drugs, Porritt tells us, has ‘weakness of character’
and expresses ‘an inferiority complex’. Porritt’s final sentence reads, in full: ‘it
behoves every one of us interested in the basic values of amateur sport to keep
this matter under the closest surveillance and to remember always that the
“dope” in the American sense – the mentally, physically and morally dulled
individual – is to some degree at any rate the inevitable corollary of doping.’
422 The Use of Performance-enhancing Substances in the Olympic Games

The article begins with a close-up photograph of a man popping pills into his
mouth alongside the caption ‘The temptation . . .’ and ends with a second
image of a sunglasses-laden, destitute, worn-out face of a second man, frothing
at the mouth, alongside the caption ‘. . . and the result’.43

Implications and future areas of research

Typically policy discussions regarding the ‘moral problem’ of doping centre

on questions regarding motivations of athletes who use drugs, the technical
and organisational aspects of detection procedures, the more general political
organisation of anti-doping agencies, legal aspects of the anti-doping regula-
tions and programs and, to a lesser extent, the rights of athletes, and so forth.
These discussions, however, typically take for granted the current state of
affairs of banned substance use and anti-doping attempts. The assumption that
drugs are unethical to the point that WADA’s Code does not even really discuss
ethics, properly speaking, alongside the assumption that more time and money
should be devoted to detection and catching ‘cheats’, is generally speaking,
the ‘business as usual’ status quo in the literature. The goal of this chapter has
been to demonstrate that there are much broader issues that scholars, admin-
istrators, coaches, athletes and generally interested and concerned observers of
Olympic sport need to think about. In short, the nature of the questions asked
regarding the use of performance-enhancing substances needs to expand.
First, scholars are just starting to discuss the significant history of the devel-
opment of the systematic use of drugs in the modern Olympic movement and
the creation of anti-doping measures. The post-war period is a significant one
and, while a small portion of that history has been recounted here, its full story
is largely unfinished. As Dimeo says, the ‘backlash’ and ‘moral panic’ in the
post-war period, the ‘threat to the patriarchal, middle-class dominance of sports
culture and sporting organizations [and the] latent anxiety over the changing
nature of female bodies that also threatened this power structure. . . . [led to
the] modernistic system of surveillance methods, bureaucratic machinery, and
legal power that changed the face of sport’.44 Indeed, the particular trajectory
of events during the important decades of the 1950s and 1960s has restricted
any real open, frank or democratic discussion about performance enhancers,
and performance-enhancement, to this day. The full implications of the events
that transpired during this period need to be exposed.
Second, the focus of policy discussions on the ethics of performance-
enhancing substances diverts attention away from greater issues related to the
dangers of high-performance sport, especially as it has become constituted in
the last half-century or so. For example, the fixation on the health concerns
of banned substances diverts attention away from the myriad number of other
practices – many openly accepted or encouraged – that bring physical risk to
 Ian Ritchie 423

the lives of athletes and those who look up to and possibly follow them as role
models. There needs to be a more open discussion about the reality of high-
performance sport as a whole, not just the practices of banned substance use
that makes up only a fraction of that whole. The ‘ethics’ of banned substance
use must be considered in the context of the Olympic movement’s current
ethos, one that has emerged almost imperceptibly but unwaveringly in the
previous half-century: the unqualified drive for victory, records and medals by
athletes who now work as full-time professionals and often put their bodies at
great risk.
Related to the previous point, the motivations and identities of athletes them-
selves are poorly understood. There is a glaring gap in the literature in terms of
understanding the process high-performance athletes undergo towards becom-
ing ‘world-class’, including the decisions they make whether to use a banned
substance or not or, for that matter, substances, methods and techniques that
are not banned. The important point introduced by Hughes and Coakley – that
athletes ‘overconform’ to the ‘sport ethic’ – must be more fully explored.
Beamish and Ritchie point out that the reality of high-performance Olympic
sport as it has become constituted in the latter half of the 20th century and now
through the first decade of the 21st, is one that has re-defined the fundamental
identity of the elite athlete and his or her outlook on the world:

the central and paramount reality of sport for high-performance athletes –

for the athletes who constitute the sport system through their human
agency – is the perfection of a particular working instrument – their bodies –
to perform at the outer limits of human potential and to attempt to excel
beyond those limits.45

A related point is that athletes themselves must be more involved in the

policy-making decisions that influence their working lives. Unlike those in
other entertainment industries, including actors, musicians, dancers and other
performers, an athlete has almost no means through which to negotiate the
conditions of his or her working life. Rules are, generally speaking, dictated
from above. As Houlihan points out, athletes have been almost completely
disenfranchised from policy-making decisions, and what athlete representation
does exist ‘is invariably paternalistic, tokenistic and fulfils purposes associated
more with legitimation of NGB [National (Sport) Governing Bodies] decisions
than with empowerment and involvement in decision-making processes’.46
Finally, policy discussions must move beyond the argument that the ban
on certain performance-enhancing substances is justified based on the ‘spirit
of sport’. The reality of high-performance Olympic sport in the last half
century – perhaps even beyond that – is that performance-enhancers became
woven into the very fabric of sport. Although authoritative voices such as
424 The Use of Performance-enhancing Substances in the Olympic Games

those in WADA may want to justify anti-doping based on essentialist references

to ‘authentic’ or ‘pure’ sport, these references are ultimately sociologically
vacuous. The dichotomy of ‘pure’ drug-free sport and ‘artificial’ drug-infested
sport is a false one. Worse, the dichotomy shifts attention away from the real
forces that have constituted ‘Olympic sport’ in the last half century. Only when
the true forces that have constituted, and continue to constitute, international,
high-performance sport are considered will the Olympic movement come
even remotely close to living up to the potential it claims for itself – sport as
ennobling, uplifting and fulfilling.

Notes
1. Dubin, Commission of Inquiry into the Use of Drugs and Banned Practices Intended to
Increase Athletic Performance, xxii.
2. World Anti-Doping Agency, World Anti-Doping Code, 14.
3. Although, the point of view of the ‘public’ is certainly far from clear. For example,
in a major public debate hosted by Intelligence Squared in New York in 2008, 37 per
cent of the audience present at the debate agreed with the proposition that steroids
should be accepted in sports, a very high percentage given that, according to WADA’s
Code, anti-doping rules reflect the ‘intrinsic’ values of sport. See World Anti-Doping
Agency, World Anti-Doping Code, 14, and Intelligence Squared US, We Should Accept
Performance-enhancing Drugs in Competitive Sports.
4. For information on the technical aspects of the World Anti-Doping Code see David,
A Guide to the World Anti-Doping Code: A Fight for the Spirit of Sport. Also, for a thor-
ough analysis of the legal-political governance of WADA and the Olympic system,
see Chappelet and Kübler-Mabbott, The International Olympic Committee and the
Olympic System: The Governance of World Sport. Of course, WADA’s website itself is also
useful: www.wada-ama.org.
5. Interestingly, the same complexity has not been reflected in formal anti-doping
policies themselves. WADA’s Code is remarkably straightforward in its blanket rejec-
tion of substances on the banned list, based on the essential ‘integrity’ of sport
mentioned earlier. Ethics, properly speaking, is never really discussed. See World
Anti-Doping Agency, World Anti-Doping Code, 14.
6. Ritchie, ‘Drugs/Substance Use in Sports’.
7. The most recent and perhaps notorious of these was Canada’s Own the Podium pro-
gram leading up to the 2010 Winter Games in Vancouver. Funded through private
sources combined with state-run agencies, Own the Podium included a ‘Top Secret
Program’ of funding and technological advancement that was intended to, in the
words of the document itself, give ‘Canadian athletes ... a mental edge’ and ‘intimi-
date’ competitors. In other words, ‘secret’ performance-enhancement programs cre-
ated specifically to dominate the medal count were state policy in Canada. Canadian
Olympic Committee, Own the Podium – 2010, 2004 (copy available via the author).
See also an excellent critique of the program by Brown, ‘The Hypocrisy Game: Our
Athletes Work Like Pros and Get Treated Like Children’, which is a review of Beamish
and Ritchie, Fastest, Highest, Strongest: A Critique of High-performance Sport.
8. The list of sources highlighting these contradictions is far too long to list within
the body of text; for good examples, see Waddington, Sport, Health and Drugs:
 Ian Ritchie 425

A Critical Sociological Perspective; Waddington and Smith, An Introduction to Drugs in

Sport: Addicted to Winning?; Møller, The Ethics of Doping and Anti-Doping: Redeeming
the Soul of Sport?; Beamish and Ritchie, Fastest, Highest, Strongest: A Critique of High-
performance Sport; Miah, Genetically Modified Athletes: Biomedical Ethics, Gene Doping
and Sport; Møller et al., Elite Sport, Doping and Public Health; Dimeo, A History of
Drug Use in Sport 1876–1976: Beyond Good and Evil; Dixon, ‘Performance-Enhancing
Drugs, Paternalism, Meritocracy, and Harm to Sport’; Malloy et al., ‘The Spirit of
Sport, Morality, and Hypoxic Tents: Logic and Authenticity’; Schneider and Hong,
Doping in Sport: Global and Ethical Issues. See also the discussion in the Journal of the
Philosophy of Sport, 36.2, 2009.
9. Crossman (ed.), Canadian Sport Sociology, 141–146; Coakley and Donnelly, Sports in
Society: Issues and Controversies, 169–184; Simon, Fair Play: The Ethics of Sport; Morgan
(ed.), Ethics in Sport.
10. Houlihan, ‘Civil Rights, Doping Control and the World Anti-Doping Code’; Park,
‘Governing Doped Bodies: The World Anti-Doping Agency and the Global Culture
of Surveillance’.
11. Houlihan, Dying to Win: Doping in Sport and the Development of Anti-Doping Policy;
Hanstad et al., ‘The Establishment of the World Anti-Doping Agency: A Study of
Organizational Change and Unplanned Outcomes; David, A Guide to the World Anti-
Doping Code; Chappelet and Kübler-Mabbott, The International Olympic Committee
and the Olympic System.
12. Amos and Fridman, ‘Drugs in Sport: The Legal Issues’; Jackson and Ritchie, ‘Leave
It to the Experts: The Politics of “Athlete-Centeredness” in the Canadian Sport
System’; Straubel, ‘Doping Due Process: A Critique of the Doping Control Process in
International Sport’.
13. Hughes and Coakley, ‘Positive Deviance among Athletes: The Implications of
Overconformity to the Sport Ethic’.
14. Merton, Social Theory and Social Structure, 131–160.
15. Millar, ‘Tour de France Exhausts Cyclists’.
16. Formally, as head of the German Democratic Republic’s Deutscher Turn- und
Sportbund [The German Gymnastics and Sport Federation – DTSB] Manfred Ewald
created a program in 1968 for the use and development of ‘unterstützende Mittel’
(so-called uM – supplementary materials), although anabolic steroids had been in
use before 1968. See Beamish and Ritchie, Fastest, Highest, Strongest, 90–91.
17. See the References section below for full publication details. The author would like
to point out that Hunt’s book was under review when the current chapter was in the
process of publication.
18. Giulianotti, Sport: A Critical Sociology; Ritchie, ‘Sociological Theories of Sport’.
19. Kidd, ‘The Myth of the Ancient Games’; Spivey, The Ancient Olympics; Young, A Brief
History of the Olympic Games.
20. I have avoided including excessive endnote references within the body of the text in
this section because there are simply far too many sources that repeat many of the
same examples; including them would make the text laborious to read. The sources
used for this section are: Yesalis and Bahrke, ‘History of Doping in Sport’, 42–76;
Dimeo, A History of Drug Use in Sport; Beamish and Ritchie, Fastest, Highest, Strongest;
Donohoe and Johnson, Foul Play: Drug Abuse in Sports; Tricker and Cook, Athletes
at Risk: Drugs and Sport; Møller, The Ethics of Doping; Hoberman, Mortal Engines;
Voy, Drugs, Sport, and Politics; Goldman, Death in the Locker Room: Steroids and
Sport; Houlihan, Dying to Win; Miah, Genetically Modified Athletes; Todd, ‘Anabolic
426 The Use of Performance-enhancing Substances in the Olympic Games

Steroids: The Gremlins of Sport’; Todd and Todd, ‘Significant Events in the History
of Drug Testing and the Olympic Movement: 1960–1999’; Waddington, Sport, Health
and Drugs; and Waddington and Smith, An Introduction to Drugs in Sport.
21. Dimeo, A History of Drug Use in Sport, 62.
22. de Kruif, The Male Hormone. De Kruif was an interesting figure. He wrote several
controversial texts on topics related to the history of scientific discoveries and
the use of those discoveries to enhance the quality of human life. See Summers,
‘Microbe Hunters Revisited’, and Todd, ‘Anabolic Steroids’, 92–93. The subtitle of The
Male Hormone is: A new gleam of hope for prolonging man’s prime of life.
23. Yesalis and Bahrke, ‘History of Doping in Sport,’ 49.
24. Dimeo, A History of Drug Use in Sport, 72.
25. At the 1952 Helsinki Games, the USSR won 71 medals to the USA’s 76; however, the
USSR quickly gained supremacy after that, winning 98 (to 79) in Melbourne in 1956
and 103 (to 71) in Rome in 1960. George Orwell quite famously wrote in 1945 that
sport had become ‘war minus the shooting’; however in a lesser-known passage from
the same essay, he presciently criticised ‘nations who work themselves into furies
over these absurd contexts, and seriously believe . . . that running, jumping and
kicking a ball are tests of national virtue’. Orwell, ‘The Sporting Spirit’, 198, 196.
26. Dimeo, A History of Drug Use in Sport, 75.
27. Cited in Todd, ‘Anabolic Steroids,’ 93.
28. Goldman, Death in the Locker Room, 94.
29. Dimeo, A History of Drug Use in Sport, 76–78.
30. Ibid., 71–76.
31. The case of Jensen is more important because, as Møller points out, it put anti-
doping on the IOC’s policy agenda. Interestingly, Møller also disputes the historical
accuracy of the claim that Jensen died from amphetamine use. See Møller, The Ethics
of Doping, 37–42.
32. Beamish and Ritchie, Fastest, Highest, Strongest, 11–30.
33. Sex testing has a long and controversial history. The tests were always imperfect
because one of the purported reasons for their inclusion – that men might be
‘sneaking’ into women’s events – was completely misguided. See Ritchie, ‘Sex Tested,
Gender Verified: Controlling Female Sexuality in the Age of Containment’ and Heggie,
‘Testing Sex and Gender in Sports; Reinventing, Reimagining and Reconstructing
Histories’. Interestingly, the IOC still upholds an official sex-testing procedure for
cases of ‘suspicious’ athletes – see the ‘Stockholm Consensus’ on the IOC’s website:
www.olympic.org/Assets/ImportedNews/Documents/en_report_905.pdf.
34. Todd and Todd, ‘Significant Events in the History of Drug Testing’.
35. Samaranch’s comments were first reported in the Spanish newspaper El Mundo. See
El Mundo, ‘La Polémicaia Propuesta de Samaranch [Samaranch’s Polemical Proposal]’.
Importantly, Samaranch’s comments were repeated and read in media sources
throughout the world, and some sources included headlines suggesting a radical
change of anti-doping policy for the IOC. Sports Illustrated, for example, ran an arti-
cle by Steve Rushin with the title ‘Throwing in the Towel: Beating a Hasty Retreat in
the War on Drugs’.
36. Chappelet and Kübler-Mabbott, The International Olympic Committee and the Olympic
System; David, A Guide to the World Doping Code; Hanstad et al., ‘The Establishment of
the World Anti-Doping Agency’; Houlihan, ‘Civil Rights, Doping Control . . .’; Park,
‘Governing Doped Bodies’; World Anti-Doping Agency, World Anti-Doping Code.
37. Beamish and Ritchie, Fastest, Highest, Strongest, 29.
 Ian Ritchie 427

38. The claim that the Nazis used steroids to increase aggressiveness of the troops during
the Second World War has an interesting history. See ibid., 38–39.
39. Wade, ‘Anabolic Steroids: Doctors Denounce Them, but Athletes Aren’t Listening’,
1400.
40. Beamish and Ritchie, Fastest, Highest, Strongest, 40–44. See also Beamish and Ritchie,
‘Totalitarian Regimes and Cold War Sport: Steroid “Übermenschen” and “Ball-
Bearing Females”’.
41. Wrynn, ‘“A Debt was Paid Off in Tears”: Science, IOC Politics and the Debate about
High Altitude in the 1968 Mexico City Olympics’. See also Wrynn, ‘The Human
Factor: Science, Medicine and the International Olympic Committee, 1900–70’.
42. Dimeo, A History of Drug Use in Sport, 95.
43. Porritt, ‘Doping’.
44. Dimeo, A History of Drug Use in Sport, 134–135.
45. Beamish and Ritchie, Fastest, Highest, Strongest, 140.
46. Houlihan, ‘Civil Rights, Doping Control . . .’, 422.

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26
The Olympic Industry and Women:
An Alternative Perspective
Helen Jefferson Lenskyj

In the following critical analysis, I examine the relationships between women

and the Olympic industry throughout the 20th century and into the 21st. The
ways in which women’s experiences have been shaped by longstanding systems
of discrimination and oppression, based not only on gender but also on race/
ethnicity, social class and sexuality, are central to this analysis. Using Virginia
Woolf’s ‘procession of men’ metaphor and applying insights from transnational
feminist theory and practice, I evaluate the limitations of liberal feminist initia-
tives in Olympic sport and argue for a more radical, genuinely global approach.

Introduction

From the time of their 1896 revival, the modern Olympic Games have repre-
sented the pinnacle of athletic achievement, and they continue to constitute
one of the major forces shaping female sport in most western countries today.
Throughout the 20th century, control of the sporting program and media
coverage has been, for the most part, in male hands, with the International
Olympic Committee (IOC), international sports federations, national Olympic
committees, top Olympic sponsors and Olympic media networks controlled by
men with extraordinary power and privilege.1
In a recent example of this reality, some Canadian women began lobbying
the Canadian Olympic Association and the IOC in 2007 for the inclusion of
female ski jumping in the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics. One of their argu-
ments rests on the fact that human rights policies embedded in the Canadian
Charter of Rights and Freedoms and in provincial human rights codes prohibit
sex discrimination. They claim that the IOC is obliged to respect these princi-
ples of gender equity, but, unfortunately, they are wrong. This situation reflects
the extent of Olympic industry power over domestic sport.
In the broader context of women’s rights, history demonstrates that equitable
treatment of female athletes has not been a high priority for Olympic officials

430
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 431

and Olympic media. On the question of women’s place in the Olympic sports
program, the IOC’s addition of women’s athletics in the 1920s was ‘a strategic
response necessitated by political considerations, and not by an ethical prin-
ciple employed towards the “improvement of mankind”, an ideal proposed in
the Charter’.2
In the following discussion, I use the term Olympic industry as a challenge to
apolitical terms like Olympic movement and Olympism that are favoured by true
Olympic believers.3 Actual sporting competition represents the mere tip of the
Olympic iceberg, while the more potent and dangerous components remain
well hidden. With corporate globalisation and neo-colonialism animating the
Olympic industry, an analysis of Olympic sportswomen that takes a global
perspective needs to extend beyond simple documentation of discrimination,
omissions and distortions, and beyond calls for equal opportunity.

Sport histories, sport mythologies

As much as Olympic aficionados like to cling to the idea of a Golden Age when
Olympic sports and Olympic athletes were pure and wholesome, and when
Olympic playing fields were straight and level, there is ample evidence to the
contrary. Gender, social class, ethnicity, religion and geography, individually
and in various combinations, were key determinants of Olympic eligibility
from the outset, and the Olympics have long been the stage for international
political tensions.4
In the critical research on hallmark events, including international sporting
spectacles such as the Olympics, economic impacts have received the most
attention, with ‘underestimated costs and overestimated benefits’ a widespread
finding.5 As Stanley Eitzen points out, the powerless disproportionately bear
the burden of negative economic and social impacts flowing from the construc-
tion and operation of stadiums and other major sporting facilities.6 Working-
class and poor women in Olympic host cities are doubly disadvantaged by the
economic aftermath, and homeless people, men and women, suffer serious
economic and social consequences.7
Although there is a growing body of literature on hallmark events, sporting
events, including the Olympics, are not the most popular subjects of critical
analyses. Commenting on this trend, Michael Hall identifies the chilly climate
facing academic critics of sport and sports mega-events: ‘[O]ne contends not
only with the neoliberal discourse of competition and the relentless pursuit of
regeneration but also with the mythologies of the social benefits of sport.’8
A related critique developed by Richard Giulianotti is also relevant. Analysing
the role of global sport in ‘sentimental education’ (appealing to sentiment
rather than reason), he argues against subscribing ‘to the more naïve or evan-
gelical arguments regarding sport’s innate goodness’ (emphasis in original)
432 The Olympic Industry and Women: An Alternative Perspective

while ignoring ‘the historical relationship of sport to forms of colonialism and

neo-colonialism’.9 He documents how western sports institutions, including
Olympic organisations, have committed acts of ‘cultural genocide’ not only
through their (mis)use of sports ‘as parts of the colonial military-industrial
complex’ but also through ‘the deliberate supplanting of non-western body
cultures with imperial games’.10 Not surprisingly, the body culture practices
of the less powerful – Indigenous populations and women – suffered the most
damage. Very little of this history has been recognised or documented by
Western sport scholars.11

Feminist responses

Feminists’ attempts to challenge male hegemony in sport have taken a

variety of forms since women’s earliest Olympic participation, with liberal
approaches – focusing on reforming rather than transforming the male model
of sport as exemplified by Olympic competition – the most common, and, as
I argue elsewhere, the least effective in bringing about lasting social change.12
In the first three decades of the century, a liberal feminist approach was
evident in most western countries, in the drive to increase inter-school and
intercollegiate sporting competition for girls and young women. At the interna-
tional level, women worked towards increasing female participation and events
in multi-sport spectacles such as the Commonwealth Games and the Olympic
Games. These initiatives continued with limited success until the 1960s Second
Wave, when broad-based feminist movements in western countries lent their
support to the ongoing work of women in sport leadership. However, these
women rarely, if ever, offered any critique of the Olympic sport model; they
simply wanted a bigger – either equal or equivalent – piece of the Olympic pie.
Two team sports previously viewed by the IOC as too masculine and/or mas-
culinising for women – volleyball and basketball – were added to the women’s
program in the 1960s and 1970s, balanced, as it were, by the hyperfeminine,
female-only events of rhythmic gymnastics and synchronised swimming, and,
in 1996, by the ultimate example of sexploitation, women’s beach volleyball.
In liberal sport advocacy contexts in western countries, the Olympics and
Olympians continue to shape women’s political agendas in both symbolic
and practical ways. Although increasing recreational sporting opportunities for
girls and women of all ages and ability levels is often a stated goal, Olympic
sport and Olympic sportswomen take priority. The Olympic credentials of
women in leadership roles are flaunted in the predictable ‘once an Olympian,
always an Olympian’ style, apparently with no recognition of the possible dis-
couraging effect on ordinary recreational athletes.
Like mainstream newspapers and magazines, publications from liberal femi-
nist organizations such as WomenSport Australia, Promotion Plus (Canada)
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 433

and the Canadian Association for the Advancement of Women in Sport and
Physical Activity routinely profile Olympic-level athletes and their achieve-
ments, promoting nationalistic fervour as well as highlighting the trite ‘role
model’ idea that these inspirational messages provide all the necessary motiva-
tion for girls and women.13

The media and the Olympic industry

In examining women and Olympic media, it is important to recognise the

limitations of a ‘gender-first’ or ‘gender-only’ approach, and to challenge
the liberal assumption that the coverage of male Olympians represents a suita-
ble yardstick by which to evaluate media treatment of female athletes. As is the
case in non-sport contexts, the mass media routinely perpetuate racist, classist,
ableist, heterosexist and homophobic stereotypes of men as well as women,
with the commodification of African-American celebrity athletes exemplifying
this trend.14 In other words, mainstream sport reporting entrenches systems
of discrimination and oppression, with multinational Olympic sponsors and
broadcasting rights-holders having a vested interest in maintaining existing
social divisions based on gender, class, sexuality, ability, race and ethnicity.
In a 2006 review of sport media research titled ‘Gender Warriors in Sport:
Women and the Media’, Margaret Carlisle Duncan summarises the major
research findings in this area since the 1990s, including studies of media
treatment of female Olympic athletes. She reports that, except for a few small
improvements, most aspects of media coverage remain the same. With the
long-standing themes of ‘sexualization, emphasized femininity, [and] infanti-
lization’, documented and analysed at length, Duncan calls on researchers to
develop more nuanced approaches. Specifically, she suggests that more atten-
tion be paid to ‘the intersections of social relationships such as race, ethnicity,
gender, sexuality, class, ability, and so on’15 – trends that antiracist feminist
scholars have termed interlocking systems of oppression.16 For Duncan to find
gaps of this kind as late as 2006 suggests that feminist sport scholars are lagging
behind their academic counterparts in disciplines such as women’s education
and women’s health, where recognition of women’s intersecting identities
has been in evidence since at least the 1990s. (However, Duncan was focusing
for the most part on American scholars and/or American sport media cover-
age, and her findings are not necessarily applicable to other English-language
researchers or contexts.)

Transnational feminist critiques

Transnational feminists’ critiques of the notion of ‘global sisterhood’ are

relevant to an analysis of Olympic sportswomen at the global level. Most
434 The Olympic Industry and Women: An Alternative Perspective

importantly, it cannot be assumed that women from diverse geographic and

cultural contexts all share the same goals and priorities in relation to sport
and to the Olympics. When inequalities are theorised only in terms of gen-
der, liberal approaches rely on the idea of a generic ‘female Olympic athlete’
while neglecting to consider the links among sexism, racism, classism, ableism
and homophobia in sport and the implications for diverse groups of women.
Flowing from this narrow way of thinking is the belief that, on the question
of media treatment, gender equity can be achieved by demanding the same
or equivalent quality and quantity of coverage, and the same or equivalent
audience-building strategies that men’s Olympic sport receives.
A relatively recent publication in the field of women’s health, The Making of
Our Bodies, Ourselves: How Feminism Travels across Borders (2007), provides rel-
evant insights for a discussion of transnational feminism and Olympic sports-
women.17 Kathy Davis documented how the original Our Bodies, Ourselves, an
American women’s self-help manual first published in 1969, was adopted and
adapted by feminists in non-western countries in their efforts to make it mean-
ingful to their specific cultural and geo-political contexts. Egyptian feminists,
for example, responded to the American initiative by ‘drawing on a critique of
western modernity and traditions of opposition in their own context … [They]
adapted and transformed, but also distanced themselves from, western feminist
ideas and practices that do not reflect the realities of their lives’.18
The issue of reproductive rights has implications for feminist sport agendas.
While western women in the 1960s and 1970s generally defined reproductive
rights in terms of the right to safe birth control methods and safe abortion, for
many women in developing countries, the right to bear a healthy child was
a higher priority. Similarly, for the majority of women in the global context,
the right to enjoy a basic level of physical recreation with its resulting social
and health benefits is likely to be a more salient issue than the right to equal
Olympic opportunity. But although western feminists may recognise the
importance of universal physical recreation for girls and women, most tend to
measure success by the Olympic yardstick.
Like the Egyptian feminists in Davis’s study, many sports activists in devel-
oping countries adapt, transform, critique and distance themselves from the
dominant Olympic-driven agenda developed by western sports feminists.
Their grassroots work, however, is unlikely to be recognised in the western
media, or even in women’s publications, where individualised success
stories – the Muslim woman who overcomes adversity and wins an Olympic
medal, for example – reinforce notions of western superiority and western
sporting hegemony, even if this is not the actual intention. Furthermore, as
Richard Giulianotti points out, pre-event biographical coverage of individual
athletes – North African female runners like the Algerian Hassiba Boulmerka,
for example – that aim at reminding western viewers of themes of deprivation
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 435

often adopt a condescending, melodramatic tone that does nothing to promote

human rights or genuine engagement with non-western cultures.19
‘Global feminism’ is at the same time a useful and a problematic concept.
As Davis explains, women from diverse geographic locations who form
political alliances are ‘both radically different [from one another] and already
linked through the ubiquitous and contradictory processes of globalization’.20
Although women are connected by ‘globally structured relations of power’,
failure to recognise how these forces impact differently on women from differ-
ent locations will result in the reinforcing of western superiority and colonial-
ism.21 The global nexus of power is not some remote entity outside sport, and
certainly not outside Olympic sport. There is, in fact, a significant symbiotic
relationship between the Olympic industry and global capitalism.22
Effective transnational feminist practice is ‘based on the acknowledgement
of differences among women, on an awareness of privilege and complicity
in national histories of domination, and an attempt to discover common
concerns and struggles’.23 In reference to recent initiatives sponsored by the
United Nations, Davis critiques the ‘mainly urban, middle-class, white femi-
nists (‘globetrotting feminists’) from different parts of the world who meet
at international megaconferences to set the feminist agenda, often to the
detriment of local activism of community-based women’s groups’.24 Similarly,
although on a smaller scale, international alliances of sports feminists risk fall-
ing into the trap of western superiority as they seek to export their American,
Canadian, European or Australian ‘product’ to the rest of the world. In 1995,
for example, the discussion at an early planning meeting of a proposed inter-
national women’s sport network focused on the perceived need to eliminate
female gender testing from the Olympic Games. The fact that this problem
only affected a small minority of women internationally and did not deserve
such a high priority in an organisation that sought to promote mass female
sporting participation was largely ignored.
In the Olympic context, the problem of western women’s ‘complicity in
national histories of dominance’ (to use Davis’s phrase) is rarely addressed.
In Olympic industry mythology, female athletes are all part of an Olympic
family, sharing membership in the same exclusive network of elite men, and a
handful of women, who hold the rank of IOC member. But at the same time
athletes possess a national identity; they are representing their home countries
in international sporting competition. Patriotism is an integral component
of the ‘Olympic dream’ – a message that saturates the Olympic media. This
reality further complicates the notion of the undifferentiated ‘female Olympic
athlete’. Adapting Davis’s argument, we can see how a North African female
runner is ‘radically different’ from her white American counterpart in terms
of race, geography and religion. At the same time, however, both women
are linked by their Olympic athlete status, and both are mediated to a global
436 The Olympic Industry and Women: An Alternative Perspective

audience by television journalists who (probably) essentialise and infantilise

them, although in different ways. Sharing a common ‘enemy’ (mainstream
journalists), however, does not mean that these women necessarily share
values or worldviews.

An alternative perspective

In 1938, Virginia Woolf’s feminist treatise Three Guineas25 would no doubt have
shocked readers as much as Betty Friedan’s The Feminine Mystique or Germaine
Greer’s The Female Eunuch did in the 1960s and 1970s, or, to cite a more recent
sports feminist example, Mariah Burton Nelson’s The Stronger Women Get, the
More Men Love Football.26
Woolf drew a skilful picture of British society, where ‘educated men’ con-
stituted the ruling gender-class of bishops, judges, professors, admirals and
generals – men who exercised their power through ‘preaching, teaching, admin-
istering justice, practising medicine, transacting business, making money’ and,
ultimately, making war.27 Had she been writing in the 21st century, she may
have added CEOs of multinational corporations, presidents of international
sports federations and IOC members to her list.
Picturing the procession of men entering London every day, she posed the
fundamental question for women, ‘Do we wish to join that procession, or don’t
we? … Where is it leading us, that procession of educated men?’.28 She went
on to demonstrate how the women who join this procession may themselves
become ‘champions of the capitalist system’.29 At the time that she was writing,
when women from privileged backgrounds were making inroads into higher
education and the professions, Woolf dared to challenge liberal feminists’
popular assumption that, to use a sport metaphor, playing the game by men’s
rules was the route to women’s liberation and empowerment.
Underlying these questions is a fundamental issue of values. The following
account by American Olympic diver Greg Louganis illustrates some of the com-
plexities. In his 1996 autobiography Breaking the Surface, he describes events
in 1988 in the weeks before the Seoul Olympics. His coach, Ron O’Brien, had
suffered a number of family tragedies, culminating in his mother’s hospitali-
sation for a serious illness. According to Louganis’s account, ‘Ron wanted to
be with her, and I was honored and grateful that he chose to stay with me in
Seoul. I could never have made it through the Olympics without him’. O’Brien
received news of his mother’s death just before the springboard preliminaries,
but didn’t tell Louganis at the time because ‘he didn’t want to burden’ him.30
Consider the values and priorities underlying O’Brien’s actions and Louganis’s
account of his own feelings. Presumably the reader is expected to see the posi-
tives, the half-full glass: dedication, commitment, singleness of purpose, traits
that mark the ‘pure Olympic athlete’ and his equally dedicated coach. I see
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 437

the half-empty glass: obsession, selfishness, misplaced priorities. Gender will

no doubt influence one’s reactions: females are socialised from a young age to
value relationships and connectedness, and these priorities are often reflected
in their approaches to sporting competition and its relative importance in their
lives.31 However, elite female athletes receive an additional layer of socialisa-
tion into the world of high performance sport, and many may consider O’Brien
and Louganis to be exemplary figures.
Returning to Woolf’s metaphor, let us picture a different procession: ath-
letes marching behind their national flags at the opening ceremonies of the
Olympics. Do the values they represent automatically make them moral exem-
plars (or in popular language, role models)? Is it sufficient for women to settle
for equal treatment at the hands of Olympic officials and media? And, most
importantly, would any socially conscious athlete, male or female, really want
to become a champion of global capitalism?
In the 1920s and 1930s, Virginia Woolf’s era, there were in fact some
women’s sport leaders who strongly resisted the call to join the procession
of sportsmen, a radical initiative that surfaced in various forms through the
20th century and continues today. Rejecting the hegemonic model of sport-
ing competition, they worked towards maximising female participation at the
recreational level – ‘A game for every girl, a girl for every game’ – and keeping
sport leadership in women’s hands. More specifically, they saw the potential
for sexual harassment and sexual exploitation on the part of male coaches,
trainers, spectators and journalists, and introduced preventive measures such
as chaperones and dress codes.32
History shows that their concerns were well-founded. As early as 1928,
Olympic hurdler Ethel Catherwood had become the Canadian poster girl
for women’s sport, with newspaper coverage routinely commenting on the
beauty of the ‘Saskatoon Lily’ (a reference to her home town and a rumoured
Hollywood film offer.). Some 50 years later, in 1975, Canadian sport historians
Frank Cosentino and Glynn Leyshon were still echoing this view, noting that
her ‘statuesque beauty and icy poise’ attracted photographers ‘at every oppor-
tunity’.33 And in 2008, the iconic 1927 Catherwood action shot graced a poster
advertising a University of Toronto-sponsored conference titled To Remember is
to Resist: 40 Years of Sport and Social Change 1968–2008 – an unintended irony,
no doubt.34
In contrast, consider Catherwood’s teammate Bobby Rosenthal, a signifi-
cantly more successful all-round athlete and medal-winner, but a woman who
lacked Catherwood’s conventional heterosexual attractiveness. For many crit-
ics, Rosenthal epitomised the ‘mannish’ sportswoman whom male journalists
enjoyed caricaturing: a ‘big, lanky, flat-chested girl’, in the words of one male
reporter.35 Although the individual identities have changed, the template for
mainstream media coverage of Olympic sportswomen has largely remained.
438 The Olympic Industry and Women: An Alternative Perspective

In what is probably, one would hope, the most extreme example of this trend,
the last decade has witnessed the phenomenon of female Olympic athletes
posing for nude calendars, and appearing in soft porn magazines like Playboy.36
This is disturbing and disappointing, but certainly not surprising when one
considers the commercial and exploitative nature of the Olympic industry.
Much has changed, of course, since the early decades of the 20th century
when the western mass media comprised mostly male print journalists and
the first generation of black-and-white film-makers, to the current age of the
Internet with live streaming making sporting events accessible to millions
in global cyberspace. However, in relation to female athletes, media preoc-
cupation with and exploitation of the women who combine ‘femininity’
(heterosexual attractiveness) and sporting ability became evident in the 1920s
and 1930s, and continues to dominate most western media coverage today.37
Consequently, since at least the 1960s, feminist commentators have been
decrying media distortion, exploitation and neglect of female sport and female
athletes.
The Olympic media and Olympic sponsors, both separately and jointly,
largely control the images of female athletes. On a bigger scale, as Varda
Burstyn points out, NBC’s $3.4 billion investment in the Olympics since 1988
transformed its staff from independent journalists into ‘employees of the inves-
tors/owners of the Olympics’.38 The power relations in these scenarios are not
conducive to enlightened coverage of women’s Olympic sport.
By definition, commercial-free public radio and television networks are not
in the running for Olympic broadcasting rights. Furthermore, commercial
rights-holders and corporate sponsors are not simply performing a public
service by televising the Olympics for a global audience, despite the advertis-
ing hype that would have viewers see them in this light. Rather, coverage
of Olympic sport is the marketing vehicle that delivers billions of viewers to
the Olympic sponsors’ products, many of which are promoted by the athletes
themselves in a neat example of convergence. Nationalism, neo-colonialism,
commercialism and exploitation of women are key themes in most mass media
coverage, global capitalism is a major force at work here, and there is no dearth
of examples that demonstrate this reality.
In 2000, the mostly male international volleyball federation ruled that all
female players had to wear Lycra bodysuits or face a fine of $US3000. Teams
from richer countries paid the fines but the Cuban women and others from
poorer countries had little choice other than to wear the revealing uniforms.39
Beach volleyball competition similarly exploits female bodies to sell the sport,
with the federation ruling on maximum dimensions of their sports bikinis.
In fact, male heads of international sports federations routinely expound on
female dress codes, unabashedly promoting the Olympic marketplace axiom
that ‘(more) sex sells sport’.
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 439

Issues relating to women’s uniforms in international competition also serve as

a useful example of western feminism’s hegemony. Concerns about skimpy or
tight-fitting sportswear are often dismissed as outdated or puritanical by western
sportswomen. Additionally, technical rationales are offered to justify the appro-
priateness of clothes that reportedly facilitate faster performances and greater
comfort.40 Conversely, there is the emerging ‘enlightened’ western view that rec-
ognises the need for religious accommodation in the area of women’s sportswear.
This approach applauds developments such as Muslim women’s sports uniforms,
similar to tracksuits, while at the same time avoiding comment on the obvious
fact that the bulkier clothing presents a distinct handicap when most competi-
tors are wearing only sports bras and ‘bun-huggers’. Despite the contradictions,
these trends signify that the female face of Olympic sport is changing, with the
appearance of some female bodies that vary significantly from the idealised,
hegemonic media image. Television coverage of the Paralympics since 1996,
despite its ableist tendencies, also challenges notions of hegemonic femininity in
sport contexts by presenting images of women with visible disabilities.41

Conclusion

The preceding discussion demonstrates some of the contradictions and com-

plexities surrounding women and the Olympic Games, issues that are further
complicated when a transnational feminist analysis is applied. Various forms
of feminist resistance to Olympic hegemony in both western and non-
western countries have largely been overshadowed by western liberal femi-
nists’ uncritical, Olympic-driven agenda. These initiatives, for the most part,
reject radical critiques that call for women-centred sporting practices and the
dismantling of the Olympic industry. As a result, liberal feminists find them-
selves complicit in a system of sporting competition that entrenches global
capitalism, neo-colonialism and sexploitation, with media coverage of athletes,
male and female, representing one obvious manifestation of these trends.
Transnational feminist practice offers a possible solution to this situation:
western sport feminists working towards genuine engagement with feminists
in developing countries. For these alliances to be effective, western women
would need to accept the fact that equal Olympic participation and media
coverage are not universal priorities for women, and that women in developing
countries may place a higher value on (re)claiming their own culturally specific
body practices through enjoyable, healthful sport and physical activity.

Notes
1. Jennings, The New Lords of the Rings.
2. Wamsley, ‘Laying Olympism to Rest’, 235.
440 The Olympic Industry and Women: An Alternative Perspective

3. Lenskyj, Inside the Olympic Industry: Power, Politics and Activism.

4. Espy, The Politics of the Olympic Games; Wamsley, ‘Laying Olympism to Rest’.
5. Whitson and Horne, ‘Underestimated Costs and Overestimated Benefits? Comparing
The Outcomes of Sports Mega-events in Canada and Japan’; Preuss, The Economics of
Staging the Olympics.
6. Eitzen, ‘Classism in Sport: The Powerless Bear the Burden’.
7. Lenskyj Inside the Olympic Industry; Lenskyj, Olympic Industry Resistance: Challenging
Olympic Power and Propaganda.
8. Hall, ‘Urban Entrepreneurship, Corporate Interests and Sports Mega-Events’, 67.
9. Giulianotti, ‘Human Rights, Globalization and Sentimental Education: The Case of
Sport’, 367.
10. Ibid., 358.
11. Ibid.; Chatziefstathiou et. al., ‘Cultural Imperialism and the Diffusion of Olympic
Sport in Africa’.
12. Lenskyj, Out on the Field: Gender, Sport and Sexualities, Part II.
13. Feezell, ‘Celebrated Athletes, Moral Exemplars, and Lusory Objects’; Lenskyj, Olympic
Industry Resistance, Chapter 5.
14. Abdel-Shehid, Who Da Man?, Chapter 2.
15. Duncan ‘Gender Warriors in Sport: Women and the Media’, 249.
16. Collins, Black Feminist Thought; Collins, ‘Toward a New Vision: Race, Class and
Gender as Categories of Analysis and Connection’.
17. Davis, The Making of Our Bodies Ourselves: How Feminism Travels across Borders; See
also Mohanty, Feminism without Borders: Decolonizing Theory, Practicing Solidarity.
18. Ibid., 72.
19. Giulianotti, ‘Human Rights, Globalization and Sentimental Education’, 367.
20. Davis, The Making of Our Bodies Ourselves, 81.
21. Ibid., 207.
22. Lenskyj, Inside the Olympic Industry; Lenskyj, The Best Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of
Sydney 2000; Lenskyj, Olympic Industry Resistance.
23. Davis, The Making of Our Bodies Ourselves, 208.
24. Ibid.
25. Woolf, Three Guineas.
26. Nelson, The Stronger Women Get, the More Men Love Football.
27. Woolf, Three Guineas, 61.
28. Ibid., 62.
29. Woolf, ibid., p. 67.
30. Louganis with Marcus, Breaking the Surface, 198.
31. Lenskyj, ‘Girl-friendly Sport and Female Values’.
32. Lenskyj, Out of Bounds Women, Sport, and Sexuality.
33. Cosentino and Leyshon, Olympic Gold: Canadian Winners of the Summer, 84.
34. The same image appeared on the cover of the 2011 publication based on the confer-
ence, Field and Kidd, Forty Years of Sport and Social Change, 1968–2008.
35. Lenskyj, Out of Bounds, 78.
36. Lenskyj, Olympic Industry Resistance, Chapter 7.
37. Duncan, ’Gender Warriors in Sport’.
38. Burstyn, The Rites of Men, 231.
39. Armstrong, ‘Olympia’s Secret’.
40. Lopiano, ‘Are These Uniforms Acceptable or Too Provocative?’.
41. DePauw, ‘The (In)Visibility of Disability: Cultural Contexts and “Sporting Bodies”’.
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 441

References
Abdel-Shehid, G. (2005) Who Da Man? (Toronto: Canadian Scholars’ Press).
Armstrong, S. (2000). ‘Olympia’s Secret’, Chatelaine, September, 85–92.
Burstyn, V. (1999) The Rites of Men (Toronto: University of Toronto Press).
Chatziefstathiou, D. et al. (2006) ‘Cultural Imperialism and the Diffusion of Olympic
Sport in Africa’, in N. Crowther, R. Barney and M. Heine (eds), Cultural Imperialism
in Action: Critiques in the Global Olympic Trust, Eighth International Symposium for
Olympic Research (London ON: University of Western Ontario), 278–292.
Collins, P. H. (1993) ‘Toward a New Vision: Race, Class and Gender as Categories of
Analysis and Connection’, Race, Sex & Class, 1.1, 25–45.
Collins, P. H. (2000) Black Feminist Thought, 2nd edition (New York: Routledge).
Cosentino, F. and G. Leyshon (1975) Olympic Gold: Canadian Winners of the Summer
Games (Toronto: Holt, Rinehart and Winston).
Davis, K. (2007) The Making of Our Bodies Ourselves: How Feminism Travels across Borders
(Durham NC: Duke University Press).
DePauw, K. (1997) ‘The (In)Visibility of Disability: Cultural Contexts and “Sporting
Bodies”’, Quest, 49.4, 416–430.
Duncan, M. C. (2006). ‘Gender Warriors in Sport: Women and the Media’, in A. Raney
and J. Bryant (eds), Handbook of Sports and Media (Mahwah: Lawrence Erlbaum
Associates), 231–252.
Eitzen, S. (1994) ‘Classism in Sport: The Powerless Bear the Burden’, Journal of Sport and
Social Issues, 20.1, 95–105.
Espy, R. (1979) The Politics of the Olympic Games (Berkeley: University of California
Press).
Feezell, R. (2005) ‘Celebrated Athletes, Moral Exemplars, and Lusory Objects’, Journal of
the Philosophy of Sport, 32.1, 20–35.
Field, R. and B. Kidd (eds) (2010) Forty Years of Sport and Social Change, 1968–2008
(New York: Routledge).
Giulianotti, R. (2004) ‘Human Rights, Globalization and Sentimental Education: The
Case of Sport.’ Sport in Society, 7.3, 355–369.
Hall, C. M. (2006) ‘Urban Entrepreneurship, Corporate Interests and Sports Mega-events’,
in J. Horne and W. Manzenreiter (eds), Sports Mega-events: Social Scientific Analysis of a
Global Phenomenon (Malden: Blackwell), 50–70.
Jennings, A. (1996) The New Lords of the Rings (London: Simon and Shuster).
Lenskyj, H. (1986) Out of Bounds Women, Sport, and Sexuality (Toronto: Women’s Press).
Lenskyj, H. (1994), ‘Girl-friendly Sport and Female Values’, Women in Sport and Physical
Activity Journal, 3.1, 35–46.
Lenskyj, H. (2000) Inside the Olympic Industry: Power, Politics and Activism (Albany: State
University of New York Press).
Lenskyj, H. (2002) The Best Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of Sydney 2000 (Albany: State
University of New York Press).
Lenskyj, H. (2003) Out on the Field: Gender, Sport and Sexualities (Toronto: Women’s
Press).
Lenskyj, H. (2008) Olympic Industry Resistance: Challenging Olympic Power and Propaganda
(Albany: State University of New York Press).
Lopiano, D. (1996) ‘Are These Uniforms Acceptable or Too Provocative?’ Action, Spring,
16–17.
Louganis, G. with E. Marcus (1996) Breaking the Surface (New York: Plume/Penguin).
442 The Olympic Industry and Women: An Alternative Perspective

Mohanty, C. T. (2003) Feminism without Borders: Decolonizing Theory, Practicing Solidarity

(Durham NC: Duke University Press).
Nelson, M. B. (1994) The Stronger Women Get, the More Men Love Football (New York:
Harcourt Brace and Company).
Preuss, H. (2004) The Economics of Staging the Olympics (Cheltenham: Edward Elgar).
Simson, V. and A. Jennings (1992) The Lords of the Rings (London: Simon and Shuster).
Wamsley, K. (2004) ‘Laying Olympism to Rest’, in J. Bale and M. Christensen (eds),
Post Olympism? Questioning Sport in the Twenty-first Century (London: Berg Publishers),
231–242.
Whitson, D. and J. Horne, J. (2006) ‘Underestimated Costs and Overestimated Benefits?
Comparing the Outcomes of Sports Mega-events in Canada and Japan’, in J. Horne
and W. Manzenreiter (eds), Sports Mega-events: Social Scientific Analysis of a Global
Phenomenon (Malden: Blackwell), 73–89.
Woolf, V. (1966, © 1938) Three Guineas (New York: Harvest/Harcourt Brace Jovanovich).
27
Disciplining Sex: ‘Gender Verification’
Policies and Women’s Sport
Jaime Schultz

In August 2009, South African middle distance runner Caster Semenya, then
just 18 years old, crushed the competition in her international debut. Beating
her closest competitor by more than two seconds, Semenya took the 800m
title at the Track and Field World Championships in Berlin. But her stunning
performance was both tarnished and overshadowed by reports leaked the day
before the event’s final. Specifically, there were expressed ‘concerns that she
does not meet the requirements to compete as a woman’. Exactly what those
requirements are, or what they should be in women’s elite sport, have been a
source of great contention. In response, an IAAF spokesperson confirmed that
Semenya had undergone a ‘gender verification test’, the results of which were
examined by ‘a group of medical experts’ including a gynaecologist, endo-
crinologist, psychologist, internal medicine specialist and a ‘gender expert’.1
Semenya waited for the verdict, without competing, for the next 11 months –
an eternity to an athlete in the prime of her career.
This chapter addresses the ways in which the IOC and its affiliate sport fed-
erations discipline sex. The meaning of discipline is intentionally multifaceted
here, for these organisations generate, regulate and control the principles by
which sex is determined. They also mete out punishment to women who fail
to meet those principles.
Both a noun and a verb, discipline can be self-imposed or compelled by others
and the examinations, by threat or application, exercise power over female
athletes. The term discipline also refers to an area of study, distinguished by and
set apart from other fields with its own sets of ontological and epistemological
assumptions. Athletic federations define and determine sex by their own set of
protean measures, establishing parameters within which athletes must fit. The
IOC, therefore, disciplines sex in every sense of the word.
While sex testing affects all women who compete, or hope to compete, in
the Olympics, I focus primarily on those in track and field as these athletes
are most frequently drawn into sexual controversies. In 1968, for instance,

443
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
444 Disciplining Sex: ‘Gender Verification’ Policies and Women’s Sport

the IOC’s executive board reported that ‘the only sport giving trouble on this
matter was athletics’.2 In accordance, I also consider the policies of the IAAF.
This analysis is admittedly limited by a Eurocentric bias – one that relies prima-
rily on documents made public by the IOC, the IAAF, as well as those published
in English-language medical, scholarly and popular outlets. A critical examina-
tion of these sources suggests that sexual categories resist disciplinarity and,
consequently, sex testing, in all its incarnations, is unwarranted.

The advent of testing

The 1896 revival of the Olympic Games created few opportunities for female
athletes. In the first decades of the 20th century, the IOC reluctantly added
golf, archery, tennis, fencing, skating and aquatic contests for women.
Athletics, however, remained anathema to officials. For example, in his 1929
article ‘Olympics for Girls?’, Dr Frederick Rand Rogers argued that track and
field events were ‘profoundly unnatural’ for women and were ‘essentially mas-
culine in nature and develop wholly masculine physiques and behavior traits’.3
Others concurred, contending that women ‘are ineffective and unpleasing on
the track’ and that involvement in the sport causes their ‘charms [to] shrink
to something less than zero’.4 Initially, alarm was not for men competing in
women’s sport, but that sport would masculinise women, a fear mired in the
muck of sexism and heteronormativity.
In spite of these censures, a coterie of ambitious women found competitive
outlets in industrial leagues, faith-based organisations, and company-sponsored
teams. In 1921, Alice Milliat founded the Fédération Sportive Féminine
Internationale, which sponsored the first women’s ‘Olympic Games’ the fol-
lowing year. The popularity of this quadrennial event, in both participation and
spectatorship, eventually encouraged the IOC to add five women’s track and
field events to the 1928 Games. As it turned out, the sensationalised accounts of
the women’s 800m race held back athletics for at least another 30 years.
Among those culpable for the delay was the popular American sportswriter
John Tunis, who reported that, by race’s end, along the track lay ‘eleven
wretched women, five of whom dropped out before the finish, while five
collapsed after reaching the tape’.5 His testimony was wildly off beam, but
the damage had been done. The distance made, ‘too great a call on feminine
strength’, critiqued Wythe Williams in the New York Times.6 The IOC subse-
quently reduced the number of women’s track and field events and the 800m
race remained absent from the program until 1960.7
By the time the event returned, the Cold War had imbued the Olympics with
even greater international import. In the absence of direct military conflict
between those affiliated with the Soviet Union and the oppositional Western
powers, the Games provided a platform on which to play out the tensions
 Jaime Schultz 445

between competing social, economic and political ideologies. And while white,
Western feminine norms often precluded the hard physical training required
for victory, the medal count did not discriminate. Men and women’s perform-
ances tallied equally, enhancing the scores of those Eastern Bloc countries
whose female athletes were not constrained by the same racialised ‘feminine
mystique’ that characterised much of Western Europe and North America.
The press responded by deriding women ‘from Communist countries’ who
were ‘of questionable femininity’, further stoking beliefs about the sport’s
masculine character and its masculinising effects.8 Such conjecture also led to
speculation that, in the quest for athletic ascendancy, countries might induce
‘female impersonators’ to enter women’s competitions.9 To this day, the only
decided case of a man deliberately and duplicitously presenting himself as a
woman in athletic competition is that of Hermann Ratjen. In disguise and
competing under the name Dora, Ratjen won fourth place in the 1936 Olympic
high jump and later set a world record in the event.10 In 1957, he revealed the
fraud, explaining its perpetration was under the mandate of Adolph Hitler ‘for
the sake of the honor and glory of Germany. For three years I lived the life of
a girl,’ Ratjen remarked. ‘It was most dull.’11
While there is evidence to suggest that female competitors may have been
previously put through some iteration of sex testing, it was not until the late
1960s that sports organisations first began to implement widespread policies.12
The IAAF initiated the modern era of sex testing at the 1966 European Track
and Field Championships in Budapest under ‘persistent speculation through
the years about women who turn in manly performances’.13 As explained in
the Olympic Review, the ‘problem of sex control had always worried the officials
of the sports in which women are permitted to compete: the performances of
some of these athletes aroused doubts about their sex followed by discussion
and gossip’.14 The solution for such ‘charlatanry’ was that anyone who regis-
tered for a woman’s event was required to report for the examinations or else
‘forfeit the right to participate in the Games’.15
Initially a ‘screening test’ to weed out male interlopers, women were sub-
jected to visual inspections or ‘nude parades’ before a panel of three female
physicians.16 Time magazine explained the process:

The examination, as it turned out, was perfunctory. Lined up in single file,

the 234 female athletes paraded past three female gynecologists. ‘They let
you walk by,’ said one competitor afterward. ‘Then they asked you to turn
and face them, and that was it.17

Of the athletes who consented to the tests, all were determined to be women,
though there were five record holders who opted not to attend the event. One
avoided the exams for religious reasons, the other four, one from Romania and
446 Disciplining Sex: ‘Gender Verification’ Policies and Women’s Sport

three from Russia, did not give reasons for their unexpected absences. Their
immediate disappearance from international sport served as confirmation for
those who suspected something amiss with the ‘manly’ women.18
The tests became more invasive at the 1966 Commonwealth Games when
female athletes faced gynaecological inspection. As pentathlete Mary Peters
remembered:

I went into a bare room which contained two women doctors, one exami-
nation couch and one large enamel bowl containing some white, cloudy
antiseptic in which the doctors apparently washed they hands after each
examination. What occurred next I can only describe as the most crude and
degrading experience I have even known in my life. I was ordered to lie on
the couch and pull my knees up. The doctors then proceeded to undertake an
examination which, in modern parlance, amounted to a grope. Presumably
there were searching for hidden testes. They found none and I left. Like every-
one else who had fled that detestable room I said nothing to anyone still
waiting in the corridor and made my way, shaken, back to my room.19

The humiliation these examinations caused the women must have been unde-
niable, for IAAF officials quickly turned to a ‘simpler, objective and more dignified’
laboratory-based chromosome assessment at the 1967 European track and field
championships.20 In January 1968, the IOC’s Executive Board determined that
all women athletes would be subjected to testing at subsequent Games. Charging
its Medical Commission with ‘the control of sex in women and the control of
doping’ the IOC framed both issues as commensurate forms of cheating – moral
transgressions that necessitated detection and disqualification.21
The following month, at the Winter Games in Grenoble, France, the
Commission drew the names of 50 competitors who would submit to buccal
smear (cheek-cell scraping) procedures. For the 1968 Summer Games, the IOC
declared: ‘All women athletes participating in the Games will be controlled.’22
The language here is significant. The tests, both in practice and in theory,
‘control’ women – they assert authority over the ways they think about and
relate to their bodies and the bodies of the peers, as well as the ways that others
regard female athletes and women in general. Such control may discourage
women from pursuing athletic opportunities, delegitimise their talents and
achievements, and further relegate females to the margins of sport.

The question of advantage

As recorded in a 1968 Bulletin of the British Association for Sport Medicine: ‘Technical
improvements in microbiology, of the counting and identification of chromo-
somes, enable sex testing to be done by scrapings from the mouth, and avoid
 Jaime Schultz 447

the detailed, often controversial clinical examination of women athletes that is

so resented.’23 Human cells typically contain 46 chromosomes that determine
genetic make up. Arranged in pairs, a karyotype usually shows 23 pairs of chro-
mosomes – 22 of which are autosomal. The last pairing constitutes the sex chro-
mosomes, or those that determine whether a person is classified as male (XY)
or female (XX). A ‘normal’ male karyotype is designated 46, XY and a ‘normal’
female as 46, XX. Beginning with the 1968 Games it was this second X (or
Barr body) for which scientists looked; its presence conferred a ‘positive’ result.
Those exhibiting the 46, XX pattern were awarded with sex cards or ‘certificates
of femininity’ – small, laminated licenses that they were required to carry with
them to all competitions and proffer as proof of their sexual legitimacy.24
At the 1967 European Cup Games, a six-man medical commission deter-
mined that Polish sprinter Ewa Klobukowska (who passed the visual inspection
at the 1966 European championships) had ‘one chromosome too many’ and
ruled her ineligible.25 The IAAF nullified all of her victories and records, and
rescinded her medals, including the gold and bronze from the 1964 Games. At
21 years old, Klobukowska could no longer compete in the sport to which she
had devoted her life. ‘It’s a dirty and stupid thing to do to me,’ she said at the
time. ‘I know what I am and how I feel.’26
The extra sex chromosome that disqualified Klobukowska probably had
little bearing on her sporting talents. The same can be true for women with
fewer than 46 chromosomes. An individual with Turner’s syndrome (45, XO),
for example, ‘is very much female but would fail the gender test because she
does not have the second X chromatid’.27 As renowned geneticist Albert de la
Chappelle notes, ‘Structural abnormalities of the X chromosome and various
mosaic conditions may result in X chromatin findings that are difficult to
interpret’.28 By sporting organisations’ definitions, athletes displaying these
genetic arrangements were not allowed to compete as women, although their
circumstances may grant no athletic benefits.
Indeed, there are a number of genetic variations that afford women no
advantage but would still ban them from Olympic competition, including
chromosomal mosaicism, 5-α steroid-reductase deficiency, gonadal dysgenesis,
and varying degrees of Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome (AIS), which affects
an estimated 1 in 500 athletes and because of which ‘several women are unjustly
excluded at each games’.29 With AIS, females exhibit the 46, XY pattern, but
because of a condition carried on the X chromosome they do not produce the
androgen receptors that males typically do. As a result, cells do not respond to
testosterone secreted by small, intra-abdominal testes. These women appear
to be genetically male, but their external genitalia and phenotype aligns with
femaleness. They do not develop strength and musculature associated with
‘male hormones’ or from the use of anabolic steroids, yet the Barr body test
would exclude them from women’s competition.30
448 Disciplining Sex: ‘Gender Verification’ Policies and Women’s Sport

At the same time, some women retain conditions that provide them with
greater musculature, elevated testosterone levels, or particular somatotypes
that may assist in athletic performance. Among these, geneticists list females
with androgen-producing tumours, anovulatory androgen excess, and congen-
ital adrenal hyperplasia, which might lead to ‘marked virilization, including
male-type body build and muscle strength’.31 Those exhibiting the sanctioned
46, XX karyotype would have nevertheless been eligible to compete in the
Olympics.
Male athletes, who have never been subjected to sex tests, might also ben-
efit from genetic predispositions that augment endurance, blood flow, meta-
bolic efficiency, muscle or bone structure, pain threshold, or respiratory and
cardiac functions. Researchers now assess that there at least 200 autosomal
performance-enhancing polymorphisms (PEP), or variations in one’s DNA
sequence associated with athletic performance.32 As Dr John S. Fox, an honor-
ary medical adviser to the British Amateur Athletic Board, points out: ‘One has
only to look at the enormous variation in physique in both sexes to appreciate
that “unfairness” is more often attributable to autosomal genetic variation,
irrespective of the sex chromosome complement.’33 Olympian Michael Phelps,
for instance, is thought to possess ‘genetic gifts’ that make him ‘built to swim’,
yet Caster Semenya is an ‘anomaly’ with an ‘unfair advantage’.34 In other
words, genetic variations that affect autosomal chromosomes are considered
endowments, while those that affect sex chromosomes constitute an inequity
that can effectively drum a woman out of competitive sport.
It is not just genetics that create disparities between athletes and, despite the
egalitarian and meritocratic ideals of sport, competitors rarely begin on an even
playing field. Socio-cultural benefits influence success as much, if not more,
than those related to biology. Tennis player Renee Richards, born Richard
Raskind, was forced to submit to a sex test before the 1976 US Open. Although
she produced ‘gynecological affirmation that she is a woman’, Richards, a post-
operative male-to-female transsexual, failed the examination.35 She waged and
won a legal battle to compete as a woman, but many of her competitors argued
that her ‘presence was unfair, that despite her operation and resulting feminine
appearance, she still retained the muscular advantages of a male and geneti-
cally remained a male’.36 Alternatively, as Susan Birrell and C. L. Cole argue,
it was not the biological benefits that most affected Richards, but the social
‘advantages of Raskind’s life of white male privilege, including attendance at a
boys’ prep school, graduation from Yale, completion of medical school, a suc-
cessful surgical practice, the thrill of being approached by a scout from the
New York Yankees, and access to highly competitive tennis which s/he took as
his/her natural right as a male’.37 Yet there are no policies to ‘control’ for that
type of allowance. To the contrary, the modern Olympic Games have tradition-
ally favoured the those from socially elite backgrounds.
 Jaime Schultz 449

Toward ‘suspicion-based testing’

There is no telling how many women sex testing might have disqualified over
the years, though estimations are about 1 in 500–600 and that ‘one or two
[women] have been banned at each Olympic Games’.38 While these numbers
seem small, there are other factors to consider. An athlete might ‘fail’ a test
implemented by a local, regional or national organisation and never make it
to the international stage. ‘They give you the test . . . in your own country,’
explained Olympian Jane Frederick, ‘so that if you don’t turn up with the right
number of Xs they can take you aside and ask you if you’d like to have an
“injury”.’39 Although women who do not pass their sex tests can appeal the
results and face extended scrutiny, it is speculated that a great many do not.
Instead, coaches or physicians may instruct them to withdraw from competi-
tion under the pretence of injury or illness rather than face the humiliation of
additional analyses.40
Following the degradation suffered by Ewa Klobukowska, IOC regulations
stipulated that the results of the examinations would not be made public. For
this reason, it may be that the tests (at least in the United States) are illegal.
Because the IOC does not release the findings, it is unable to demonstrate
that the exam ‘serves an important governmental interest’, which violates
individuals’ entitlement to equal protection. As the legal scholar Pamela Fastiff
contends, the test may also infringe US citizens’ right to privacy guaranteed by
the Constitution’s Fourth Amendment.41
The issue of confidentiality figured prominently in the death of Stella Walsh,
who won five gold and four silver medals in the 1932 and 1936 Olympic
Games. After she was murdered in the course of a robbery in 1980, her autopsy
determined that Walsh possessed ‘tiny’, ‘incomplete’, non-functioning male
sex organs and had a genetic variation known as mosaicism.42 In the ensuing
scandal, some called for the repeal of her medals, though the IOC ruled to
the contrary. Yet, her Hall of Fame entry on the official USA Track and Field
website lists her impressive career and concludes with the phrase, ‘Walsh had
male sex organs’.43 The disclosure is disturbingly out of place on the otherwise
celebratory site and, among a host of other grave concerns, raises the issue of
an individual’s right to privacy.
There are, understandably, few available anecdotes from women who have
endured these tests. One woman who has openly and courageously addressed
the issue is Spanish hurdler María José Martínez-Patiño. At the 1983 World
Track and Field Championships, Martínez-Patiño was issued her ‘certificate of
femininity’ after passing the sex test. She neglected to bring her documentation
to the 1985 World University Games in Japan and submitted to a buccal smear,
the results of which officials found problematic. She was told that her samples
required a more sophisticated analysis and that it would be best if she faked
450 Disciplining Sex: ‘Gender Verification’ Policies and Women’s Sport

an injury, dropped out of the race, and awaited the results. She complied. Two
months later she received a letter that read: ‘Karyotype is decided 46, XY.’44
Genetically speaking and, much to her shock, Martínez-Patiño had been clas-
sified as male.
Until that moment, she had no indication that she was anything but female
because she also has (unknown until then) Androgen Insensitivity Syndrome.
As one track and field expert explained, ‘She was disqualified for having an
advantage that she didn’t have’.45 Despite the results and against the express
wishes of the Real Federación Española de Atletismo, Martínez-Patiño entered
the 60m hurdles in the 1986 national championships. Although she won the
event, she suffered for her convictions. As she described it:

I was expelled from our athletes’ residence, my sports scholarship was erased
from my country’s athletics records. I felt ashamed and embarrassed. I lost
friends, my fiancé, hope and energy. But I knew I was a woman, and that
my genetic difference gave me no unfair physical advantage. I could hardly
pretend to be a man; I have breasts and a vagina. I never cheated. I fought
my disqualification.46

Dr Albert de la Chappelle, an outspoken critic of the tests, championed

Martínez-Patiño’s cause at a meeting convened by the IOC. It was the first
time that a disqualified athlete brought public attention to her case and three
months later the medical chairman of the IAAF restored her licence to com-
pete. But by then, the next Olympics were not until 1992 and, after losing so
much time to her legal battles, Martínez-Patiño fell ten hundredths of a second
short of qualifying for the Games.
The prospect of facing the tests might dissuade others from pursuing athlet-
ics altogether. Even those women who reach the highest levels of their sport
find themselves daunted by the assessments: ‘I thought, Oh my God, maybe
I am a boy,’ remembered one woman who had been forced to take the exam as
a teenager just 30 minutes before her event at the 1972 Games.47 For another
16-year-old, the impending sex test instilled a sense of panic: ‘I hadn’t had my
period yet … and I stated worrying that maybe there was something wrong
with me.’ She relates that the tests caused such anxiety that she had her private
doctor perform the exam in preparation for the Games, ‘to reassure her that she
hadn’t trained herself out of being female’.48 Yet another woman commented
that the tests caused participants to wonder ‘Oh, my gosh, I’ve been doing well.
What if it’s really . . . what if it’s some biological quirk, some extra chromosome
that makes me better than the “normal female?”’.49 It stands to reason that
this type of apprehension would deter some women from sport. The surveil-
lance of the Medical Commission and the internalised self-surveillance women
experience both serve as powerful forms of discipline.
 Jaime Schultz 451

Certainly, there were many, including athletes themselves, who championed

sex-testing policies.50 At the same time, there were those who felt the proce-
dures were ‘grossly unfair’, ‘morally destitute’ and a ‘futile exercise causing
embarrassment, anguish and expense’.51 Objections typically fall along three
lines: 1) The tests are unreliable and the results are easily misinterpreted;
2) There is a possibility that ‘men with a female sex chromatin pattern’ will
pass the tests; and 3) The tests are useless for considering psychological or
social status.52
Responding to these arguments, in 1990 and 1992 the IAAF convened
workshops that included experts in medical genetics, gynaecology, pediatrics,
biochemistry, psychiatry, endocrinology, pathology, psychology and sports
medicine, as well as female athletes and representatives from women’s sports,
to discuss the issue of gender verification. The group recommended the dis-
continuation of laboratory-based methods for determining sex and that ‘only
masquerading males (individuals reared and living as men) should be excluded’
from women’s events.53 As an alternative, a ‘medical examination for the
health and well-being of all athletes (men and women) . . . would be to ensure
satisfactory physical status for competition and would, or course, include sim-
ple inspection of the external genitalia’.54
In response, the IAAF abandoned its policy of validating the sex of all female
competitors in 1992 declaring: ‘We have no femininity list – the file is closed.’55
In its official ‘Policy on Gender Verification’, the Medical and Anti-Doping
Commission qualifies that, ‘a search has continued for an acceptable and equi-
table solution in order to be able to address the occasional anomalies that do
surface’. As outlined in the document, ‘If there is any “suspicion” or if there
is a “challenge” then the athlete concerned can be asked to attend a medical
evaluation’. This is what happened to Caster Semenya and, before her, Santhi
Soundarajan, an Indian middle-distance runner who, following the debacle,
reportedly attempted suicide. As she later told reporters, ‘I am physically and
mentally totally broken’.56
The IOC continued to test all athletes until 1999, abandoning the Barr body
test in favour of measures that amplified genes through polymerase chain
reaction (PCR) technology to determine the presence of Y chromosomal mate-
rial. Any resulting positive samples were then reanalysed for the presence of a
specific gene (SRY), believed to lead to embryonic testicular development. ‘In
borderline cases,’ read the Olympic Official Report of the 1992 Games in Barcelona,
‘a clinical examination was carried out, with a study of the secondary sexual
characteristics, the morphology of the subject and the psychological behav-
iour.’57 Allegedly founded on cutting-edge scientific knowledge, the new pro-
cedures ‘may have contributed to an unfortunate number of false positive test
results’.58 By the end of the 20th century, the IOC’s Executive Board suspended
the tests as a qualification all competitors must meet though it, like the IAAF,
452 Disciplining Sex: ‘Gender Verification’ Policies and Women’s Sport

reserves the right to compel individual women to succumb to testing. If recent

developments are any indication, this ‘suspicion-based testing’ will certainly
affect more women.59

When is she woman enough?

In the wake of the Semenya controversy, the IOC and IAAF convened a panel of
medical experts to advise on sex-testing policies. Following the two-day meet-
ing, the group recommended: ‘Athletes who identify themselves as female but
have medical disorders that give them masculine characteristics should have
their disorders diagnosed and treated.’ In specialised centres, athletes would
be assessed and subsequently administered hormone therapy and surgery.
‘Those who agree to be treated will be permitted to participate,’ explained
Dr Maria New, who served on the council. ‘Those who do not agree to be treated
on a case-by-case basis will not be permitted.’ Participants sidestepped discuss-
ing individual cases and questions of fairness and instead framed intersexuality
as a health problem that must be addressed through medical intervention.60
In terms of determining which athletes must surrender to the diagnostic/
interventionist procedures, it was reported that, ‘Sports authorities would send
photographs of athletes to experts ... If the expert thinks the athlete might
have a sexual-development disorder, the expert would order further testing and
suggest treatment.’61 While the recommendation is supposedly ‘based on up-
to-date science and global expertise’, according the group’s chairman, the foun-
dation for future testing seems to rely on an athlete’s appearance. Ostensibly a
technology of sex, these tests are, in actuality, a technology of gender, for they
are premised on and emanate from expectations about how women should
appear, behave and perform in the sporting arena.
The language used to describe the tests indicates the easy slippage the IOC
and other organisations make between the concepts of sex and gender. Initially
called ‘sex control’ in IOC documents, Doctor Jacques Thiebault, who over-
saw the testing at the X Winter Olympiad in Grenoble in 1968, wrote that he
preferred ‘the term “research into femininity”’.62 Alternative labels include sex
testing, femininity test, femininity control, gender testing, gender identifica-
tion and gender verification, a term sociologist Dayna Daniels finds especially
‘oxymoronic’: ‘To verify something is to confirm the truth or reality of that
thing. Since gender is a constructed, social practice that changes over time,
the ability to verify gender is indeed a challenge.’63 An analysis of the multiple
ways in which medical commissions have attempted to resolve the category of
‘woman’ shows that one can make the same argument with regard to sex.
Complicating the disciplinary boundaries of sexed categories is the Medical
Commission’s 2003 Statement of the Stockholm Consensus on Sex Reassignment in
Sports, which recommends ‘that individuals undergoing sex reassignment from
 Jaime Schultz 453

male to female after puberty (and the converse) be eligible for participation in
female or male competitions, respective’ provided several stipulations are met.
As several scholars have argued, though, this decision has little relevance for
the nuances of gender ambiguity and, instead, insists upon athletes belong-
ing to just one of two sexual categories. Nevertheless, the IOC approved the
Stockholm Consensus in 2004, changing the question from ‘what is a woman?’
to ‘when is she woman enough?’.64 Perhaps this is what happened to Caster
Semenya – that in order to participate in future athletics competitions, the
IAAF forced her to undergo some type of surgery, hormonal manipulation,
or other invasive techniques that will allow her to be her ‘woman enough’ to
rejoin her peers.
At the root of this question is a ‘question of “too”’. Semenya, like others
before her, has been accused of being too muscular, her voice too deep, her
hips too narrow, her features too masculine. In response, her supporters have
charged that it was a white, Western bias that produced doubts about her sex.
Leonard Chuene, the former President of Athletics South Africa, asked, for
example: ‘Who are white people to question the makeup of an African girl?
I say this is racism, pure and simple … It is outrageous for people from other
countries to tell us “We want to take her to a laboratory test because we don’t
like her nose, or her figure”.’ This is what makes the latest proposal for sex test-
ing so nefarious – that women who fail to meet a certain feminine aesthetic can
be made to take the tests.
Others speculate that Semenya has ‘too much’ testosterone, yet the naturally
occurring variations in women’s hormonal levels make it virtually impossible
to establish a baseline against which to measure. Finally, there is the argument
that she got too good too fast. In truth, she has made astonishing (though not
unprecedented) leaps in her performance, improving her 800m time by more
than seven seconds in the course of a year. At the 2009 World Championships,
she beat her personal best by one second. She did not, however, come close
to the world record in the event; that mark has stood since 1983 and is
more than two seconds better than Semenya’s best – hers does not even rank
in the top ten fastest times.
No single stroke will cut the Gordian knot of sex determination. With
new (though not necessarily progressive) knowledges, those standards have
involved visual surveys of women’s bodies, manual assessments of external
and internal genitalia, variations on genetic testing, evaluations of hormonal
constitution, or some combination of the like. In the four decades since the
IOC introduced the tests, rationalisation has shifted from concerns about
‘the possibility of sex fraud’, to anxieties over ‘those of intersexual or notori-
ously aggressive characteristics’, to the need to support those individuals with
‘sexual-development disorders’.65 Each is a slight variation on the established
paternalistic refrain – one premised on the need to create ‘equal opportunity’,
454 Disciplining Sex: ‘Gender Verification’ Policies and Women’s Sport

‘protect’ and maintain ‘purity’ in women’s sports, and ensure the ‘dignity and
integrity’ of the Games.66 The result is to render athletic females and their suc-
cessful performances suspect while reinforcing the time-worn belief that ‘real
women’ are incapable of sporting excellence.
It is difficult to justify the continuance of sex testing, in any form, in
women’s sport. Concerns about men pulling a ‘Dora Ratjen’ are addressed
by the tightness of contemporary sports clothing and the close observation
required for doping tests’ urinalyses. On the issue of transsexual athletes, there
is no conclusive data on the effects of androgen deprivation or exposure on
sporting performance.67 When it comes to those with intersex conditions or
so-called ‘disorders’ of sexual development, ‘there is no evidence that female
athletes with DSDs have displayed any sports-relevant physical attributes
which have not been seen in biologically normal female athletes.’68 The cate-
gory of ‘woman’ is closely guarded while that of ‘man’ is unrestrained and the
notion of advantage comes in so many forms that to single out those related
to sexual distinction is short-sighted. For these reasons, and a host of others,
attempts to discipline sex ultimately do more harm than good to both women
and the Olympic Games.
When I began to research this issue in 2009, I doubted Semenya would ever
be allowed to run again. I imagined that she, like Ewa Klobukowska, Tamara
and Irena Press, Stella Walsh and Santhi Soundarajan before her, would fade
from sporting consciousness – only to occasionally resurface in the form
of a cautionary tale.69 I was wrong. In 2010, the IAAF announced Semenya
eligible to compete again. The organisation, along with the IOC, have since
devised new testing procedures with the hope of avoiding ‘any repeat of the
controversy that surrounded South African runner Caster Semenya’.70 They
have abandoned any references to ‘gender verification’ and ‘gender policy’
in their Rules. Gone are any allusions to genitalia or chromosomes. Instead,
they explain, concern is for women with ‘hyperandrogenism’ or ‘the excessive
production of androgenic hormones (testosterone)’. They have cloaked their
policy in the rhetoric of protection, justifying that ‘if the condition remains
undiagnosed or neglected, [it] can pose a risk to health’.71 Should such a con-
dition be determined, the new regulations aim to ‘correct’ it with ‘prescribed
medical treatment’. If she wishes, a woman can submit to a period of ‘Return
to Competition Monitoring’, during which she will undergo some form of
therapy for her perceived defect at one of six IAAF-sanctioned specialist cen-
tres around the world. Afterwards, she must show evidence of her treatment
and be re-tested to determine her eligibility status. Many speculate this is what
happened to Semenya. Since her return to international competition, she has
performed admirably, though nowhere near her personal best.
It is difficult to fathom the constant scrutiny under which Semenya lives.
What must it be like for her to hear the snide comments from competitors, the
 Jaime Schultz 455

murmurs from the crowd, to read questions about her sex in the tabloids, not
to mention the private turmoil she endures everyday? Her resilience is a won-
der. She reportedly has her sights set on the 2012 Olympic Games; she will be
just 21 years old. It remains to be seen what will happen, not only with Caster
Semenya, but with how the IOC will address the continuing controversy of
disciplining sex in the context of elite women’s sports.

Notes
1. See, for example, ESPN, ‘Semenya Wins 800 Meters’.
2. Olympic Review, ‘Extracts of Minutes of the Meeting of the IOC Executive Board with
the International Sports Federations, 27th and 28th January, 1968’, 93.
3. Rand, ‘Olympics for Girls?’, 194.
4. Sportsman, ‘Things Seen and Heard’.
5. Tunis, ‘Women and the Sports Business’.
6. Williams, ‘Americans Beaten in Four Olympic Tests’.
7. See New York Times, ‘Sports for Women Kept in Olympics’ (1928).
8. New York Times, ‘Sex Test Disqualifies Athlete’ (1967).
9. Wyrick, ‘Physical Performance’, 419.
10. For an analysis of Ratjen and his perhaps unfair induction into the ‘canon of gender
frauds’, see Heggie, ‘Testing Sex and Gender in Sports: Reinventing, Reimagining and
Reconstructing Histories’ (2010).
11. Quoted in Life, ‘Are Girl Athletes Really Girls?’, 72.
12. See, for example Gallico, A Farewell to Sport, 233–234; Skirstad, ‘Gender Verification
in Competitive Sport: Turning from Research to Action’, 116–117.
13. Life, ‘Are Girl Athletes Really Girls?’, 63–65.
14. La Cava, ‘What Medicine Owes to the Olympic Games’, 167.
15. Berlioux, ‘Femininity’, 1; Atlanta Olympic Official Report, Part One, Volume Two,
358.
16. Hanley, ‘Drug and Sex Testing: Regulations for International Competition’.
17. Time, ‘Preserving la Difference’, 72.
18. Guttmann, Women’s Sports: A History, 206.
19. Peters with Wooldridge, Mary P: Autobiography, 55–56. According to the IOC,
‘Formerly, at sports competitions or during medical tests carried out by local
associations, one simply did a brief morphological test in order to determine sex.
Gynaecological tests were never used’. Berlioux, ‘Femininity’ 1.
20. Hay, ‘Sex Determination in Putative Female Athletes’.
21. Olympic Review, ‘The Work of the Medical Commission’, 267.
22. Ibid., 268.
23. ‘Editorial: 1968!’, 35.
24. Ryan, ‘Sex and the Singles Player’, 39; Moore and Barr, ‘Smears from the Oral Mucosa
in the Detection of Chromosomal Sex’; Hipkin, ‘The XY Female in Sport: The
Controversy Continues’.
25. Quoted in New York Times, ‘Sex Test Disqualifies Athlete’. There are competing
versions of Klobuskowska’s story, but the dominant narrative is that tests revealed a
triple-X chromosome pattern that the Los Angeles Times referred to as ‘superfemale’
in ‘Polish Sprinter Fails Sex Test, Out of Meet’, 1. See also Ryan, ‘Sex and the Singles
Player’; Cole ‘One Chromosome Too Many’.
456 Disciplining Sex: ‘Gender Verification’ Policies and Women’s Sport

26. New York Times, ‘Records of Polish Girl Sprinter Who Flunked Sex Test Barred’.
27. Qinjie et al., ‘Gender Verification in Athletes with Disorders of Sex Development’,
119.
28. de la Chapelle, ‘The Use and Misuse of Sex Chromatin Screening for “Gender
Identification” of Female Athletes’.
29. Quoted in Vines, ‘Last Olympics for the Sex Test?’, 41.
30. Androgen insensitivity can range from ‘partial’ to ‘complete’. See Griffin, ‘Androgen
Resistance: The Clinical and Molecular Spectrum’; Ferguson-Smith and Ferris,
‘Gender Verification in Sport: The Need for Change’.
31. Ferris, ‘Gender Testing in Sport’; de la Chapelle, ‘The Use and Misuse of Sex
Chromatin Screening’, 1921.
32. Ostrander et al., ‘Genetics of Athletic Performance’, 407–29; Sharp, ‘The Human
Genome and Sport, Including Epigenetics and Athleticogenomics: A Brief Look at a
Rapidly Changing Field’, 1–7.
33. Fox, ‘Gender Verification: What Purpose? What Price?’, 149.
34. Michaelis, ‘Built To Swim, Phelps Found a Focus and Refuge in the Water’; Dreger,
‘Seeking Simple Rules in Complex Gender Realities’.
35. Quoted in New York Times, ‘U.S. Open Unit Weighs Sex Test for Applicant’.
36. Robin Herman, ‘“No Exceptions”, and No Renee Richards’.
37. Birrell and Cole, ‘Double Fault: Renee Richards and the Construction and
Naturalization of Difference’, 385–386.
38. Ferguson-Smith and Ferris, ‘Gender Verification in Sport: The Need for
Change?’; Dr Eduardo Hay, quoted in Elsas et al., ‘Gender Verification of Female
Athletes’, 250.
39. Quoted in Larned, ‘The Femininity Test: A Woman’s First Olympic Hurdle’, 41.
40. Quinn, ‘Women Pass Test, But Want Respect’. See also Peters with Wooldridge, Mary
P., 57.
41. Fastiff, ‘Gender Verification Testing: Balancing the Rights of Female Athletes with a
Scandal-Free Olympic Games’, 960.
42. Coroner quoted in New York Times, ‘Tests Show Athlete Had 2 Chromosome Types’;
New York Times, ‘Report Says Stella Walsh Had Male Sex Organs’; New York Times,
‘Women Facing More than an Athletic Struggle’. See also Langlais, ‘The Road Not
Taken: The Secret That Didn’t Really Matter’. Ironically, Polish officials demanded
Helen Stephens undergo a sex test after she beat Walsh by 1.8 metres for the gold
medal in the 100m race. Following Walsh’s second-place finish in the 1936 Games,
the Polish press insinuated that America’s gold medal-winning Helen Stephens was a
man. In her biography of Stephens, Sharon Kinney Hanson writes that the athlete’s
response to such charges was that reporters could ‘check the facts with the Olympic
committee physician who sex-tested all athletes prior to competition’ (The Life of
Helen Stephens: The Fulton Flash, 96).
43. ‘Stella Walsh’, USTAF Hall of Fame.
44. Martínez-Patiño, ‘Personal Account: A Woman Tried and Tested’.
45. Quoted in Carlson, ‘When is a Woman Not a Woman?’, 29. The same is true of
women with gonadal dysgenesis. See Ferris, ‘Gender Testing in Sport’, 683–697.
46. Martínez-Patiño, ‘Personal Account: A Woman Tried and Tested’, S38.
47. Quoted in Kaplan, Women and Sports, 93.
48. Ibid.
49. Quoted in Larned, ‘The Femininity Test’, 11.
 Jaime Schultz 457

50. See, for example, Skirstad, ‘Gender Verification in Competitive Sport’, 118.
51. Moore, ‘Sexual Identity of Athletes’, 163; Quoted in Vines, ‘Last Olympics for the Sex
Test?’, 41.
52. Ljungquist and Simpson, ‘Medical Examination for Health of All Athletes Replacing
the Need for Gender Verification in International Sports: The International Amateur
Athletic Plan’, 851; de la Chapelle, ‘Why Sex Chromatin Should Be Abandoned as
a Screening Method for “Gender Verification” of Female Athletes’; de la Chapelle,
‘The Use and Misuse of Sex Chromatin Screening’; Simpson, ‘Gender Testing in the
Olympics’, 1938; Ferguson-Smith and Ferris, ‘Gender Verification in Sport: The Need
for Change?’; Simpson et al., ‘Gender Verification in Competitive Sports’.
53. Elsas et al., ‘Gender Verification of Female Athletes’, 251.
54. Ljungquist and Simpson, ‘Medical Examination for Health’, 852.
55. IAAF member Anne Foulkes, quoted in Vines, ‘Last Olympics for the Sex Test?’, 39;
Dickinson et al., ‘Gender Verification of Female Olympic Athletes’, 1541.
56. Quoted in Bhowmick and Thottam, ‘Gender and Athletics: India’s Own Caster
Semenya’.
57. Official Report of the Games of the XXV Olympiad Barcelona 1992, Volume Three,
273–274, available at: www.scribd.com/doc/57233761/Official-Report-of-the-Games-
of-the-XXV-Olympiad-Barcelona-1992 – Volume-III.
58. Reeser, ‘Gender Identity and Sport: Is the Playing Field Level?’, 696. See also Puffer,
‘Gender Verification: A Concept Whose Time Has Passed?’, 278.
59. Pilgrim et al., ‘Far from the Finish Line: Transsexualism and Athletic Competition’,
511.
60. Kolata, ‘IOC Calls for Treatment in Sex Ambiguity Cases’.
61. Ibid. See also IOC, ‘Summary of Conclusions Reached at Gender Symposium’.
62. ‘Extracts from the Report of Doctor Thiebault on the Grenoble Games to the
International Olympic Committee Medical Commission’.
63. Daniels, ‘Gender (Body) Verification (Building)’, 373.
64. These conditions include surgical anatomical changes, including ‘external genita-
lia changes and gonadecomy’, official and legal recognition of assigned sex, and
hormonal therapy that has been administered ‘for a sufficient length of time to
minimize gender-related advantages in sports competitions’. See IOC, ‘Statement
of the Stockholm Consensus on Sex Reassignment in Sport’. For more information,
see Cavanagh and Sykes, ‘Transsexual Bodies at the Olympics: The International
Olympic Committee’s Policy on Transsexual Athletes at the 2004 Athens Summer
Games’; Sykes, ‘Transsexual and Transgender Policies in Sport’; Pilgrim et al., ‘Far
from the Finish Line’.
65. Reeser, ‘Gender Identity and Sport’, 695.
66. See Anon, ‘Introducing the, Uh, Ladies’, 192; Vines, ‘Last Olympics for the Sex Test?’,
41.
67. Gooren and Bunck, ‘Transsexuals and Competitive Sports’.
68. Ritchie et al., ‘Intersex and the Olympic Games’, 398.
69. Sisters Tamara and Irina Press, who dominated international track and field competi-
tions in the 1950s and 1960s, were among those who opted not to attend the 1966
track meet that introduced sex testing.
70. IAAF, ‘IAAF Adopts Eligibility Rules for Hormone Cases’.
71. IAAF, ‘IAAF Regulations Governing Eligibility of Females with Hyperandrogenism to
Compete in Women’s Competition’.
458 Disciplining Sex: ‘Gender Verification’ Policies and Women’s Sport

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26.11, 1127–1133.
Simpson, J. L. (1986) ‘Gender Testing in the Olympics’, JAMA, 236, 1938.
Simpson, J. L., A. Ljunquist and M. A. Ferguson-Smith et al., (1993) ‘Gender Verification
in Competitive Sports’, Sports Medicine, 16.5, 305–315.
Skirstad, B. (2000) ‘Gender Verification in Competitive Sport: Turning From Research
to Action’, in T. Tännsjö and C. Tamburrini (eds), Values in Sport: Elitism, Nationalism,
Gender Equality and the Scientific Manufacture of Winners (London: E & FN Spon),
116–122.
Sportsman, ‘Things Seen and Heard’, 20 (October 1936), 18.
‘Stella Walsh’ (n.d.), USTAF Hall of Fame entry, at: www.usatf.org/halloffame/tf/showbio.
asp?hofids=177.
Sykes, H. (2006) ‘Transsexual and Transgender Policies in Sport’, Women in Sport and
Physical Activity Journal, 15, 3–13.
Time (1966) ‘Preserving la Différence’, 16 September, 72.
Tunis, J. (1929) ‘Women and the Sports Business’, Harper’s Monthly (July), 213.
Vines, G. (1992) ‘Last Olympics for the Sex Test?’, New Scientist, 135 (1992), 41.
Williams, W. (1928) ‘Americans Beaten in Four Olympic Tests’, New York Times, 3 August, 3.
Wyrick, W. (1974) ‘Physical Performance’, in E. W. Gerber, J. Felshin, P. Berlin and
W. Wyrick (eds), The American Woman in Sport (Reading MA: Addison-Wesley Publishing
Company), 403–430.
28
The Love That Dare Not Speak Its
Name: Corruption and the Olympics
Andrew Jennings

Swoosh. Ouch! Thunk, into the basket. Next. Swoosh etc. Next. Listen, it’s the
soundtrack to the conception of the International Olympic Committee. Its
1789, it’s Paris and the mob are taking bloody revenge for centuries of exploita-
tion. Decapitation.
Europe’s elite learned some lessons – but not enough. Another wave of revolu-
tion swept across Europe in 1848, this time characterised as the ‘Red Scare’ of
class conflict – and celebrated by Marx.1 It took more than 100,000 soldiers plus
vigilantes to suppress the revolt in Paris with the loss of an estimated 1,500 lives.
And still they wouldn’t learn. After the disastrous Franco-Prussian war of
1871 the people of Paris rebelled again. They chased the government away and
built barricades. To the horror of the elite, many soldiers joined in, embracing
the Communards and their socialist ideas. Two months later the Government
defeated the revolution – and took their revenge. Estimates of the numbers
executed range up to 50,000 citizens.
Pierre de Coubertin, born in 1863 – eight years before Paris rose in revolt –
and his generation of aristocrats and bourgeois were traumatised by the upris-
ing. This time something had to be done. Coubertin wasn’t a hidebound
reactionary – but neither was he a friend of revolution. Coubertin was a right-
of-centre reformist and believed that to prevent another 1871 the condition of
the working people must be improved – and they should be offered aspirations
to divert them from rebellion. Sport was his answer, the International Olympic
Committee the vehicle.
Establishment scholars and the sports press have embraced a myth about
elite sport with sacred roots in Greek history. They idolise Coubertin as ‘The
Renovator’. Others might see the endeavours of Coubertin as the beginning
of a century-long process to secure control of sport in the best interests of the
ruling classes of the day. Then it was the titled and the wealthy bourgeois,
today the multinationals seeking a Trojan horse to penetrate and subdue new
markets.

461
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
462 The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name

The timely and essential bridge between the generations was the appointment
of a career fascist in 1980 to lead sport at a time when globalisation was
gathering pace and the cyclical financial bubble that exploded in 2008 was being
birthed. Incidentally he reshaped the IOC in the structures of an organised-crime
family, to help perform its duties for international capital. From the rump of the
19th-century aristocratic elites through to globalisation’s Masters of the Universe,
alive or dead, Coubertin is their ideologue, the fascist their enabler.
That ‘F’ word is not heard in Olympic and booster circles, despite the wealth
of documentary and photographic proof2 of the repugnant political history
of Juan Antonio Samaranch. He bought his members wealth and luxury, and
they’ve loved him for that – and the price they’ve found easy to pay is obliter-
ating his history. The mostly adoring media happily takes its cue. The ‘F’ word
is the love that dare not speak its name.
It’s not hard to understand why Coubertin’s ‘Olympic Universalism’ is lauded
by every banker, arms manufacturer and junk food pedlar of modern times.
They don’t waste time on the pseudo-Greek mumbo-jumbo of the IOC and its
reverential media; they are content that it has had a deadening, diversionary
effect on free thinking about sport and capital. The legacy of the ‘F’ word.
Coubertin was influenced by philosopher Frédéric Le Play’s ideas of enlight-
ened paternalism.3 His doctrine was fundamentally opposed to the socialist
ideas of their time that were attracting mass support. Coubertin claimed he
was creating a ‘universal movement’ yet the only common people in sight
at the Sorbonne in the summer of 1894 when he launched his Olympic
Movement were the waiters, the doormen and the grooms tending the horses
and carriages.
Among the first 15 members were five European nobles and two generals.
By the turn of the century Coubertin added ten more princes, counts and
barons. From then until 1914 35 more members drawn from the ruling classes
graciously accepted invitations to run the People’s Games. Among them was
Coubertin’s successor, the Belgian Henri de Baillet-Latour – a Count, of course.
By this time Coubertin had worked out what kind of structure he needed to
deliver world domination.

***

Switzerland has a tradition of offering refuge to exiles. Lenin and Coubertin

overlapped during the First World War and you have to wonder if, stranded one
chill winter night in a railway waiting room somewhere between Zurich and
Geneva, they compared notes on building revolutionary organisations.

‘You bunch of aristocratic nobodies,’ sneered Vladimir Ilyich, ‘My revolu-

tionary party will lead you to the guillotine.’
 Andrew Jennings 463

‘Mine will last longer,’ insisted the dapper Frenchman, twirling his splendid
moustache, ‘We practise something called democratic centralism.’

‘Tell me more, Pierre,’ inquired Vladimir Ilyich, opening his ‘When I return
to St Petersburg’ notebook.

‘We have a strong leader with a strict internal hierarchy and we carefully
vet new party members. But our product appeals to the masses and we com-
mand a compliant media. The Left and the Right will learn from us.’

‘So sport will be the opium of the people,’ mused Vladimir Ilyich, scribbling
furiously.

‘There will be a second world war, you will become a superpower and sport
will be a weapon of your ascendancy.’

‘Why will you survive longer than the workers’ party?

‘We will employ Hill & Knowlton to write our press releases and the media
will publish them in full.’

***

IOC world domination would take time and might not have been achieved
without the intervention of the world’s most famous fascist in the 1930s.
Meanwhile, the IOC’s Olympics wasn’t the only option for athletes. The growth
of the Left and trade unions in the early part of the 20th century generated a
parallel Olympics that proclaimed socialist ideals and peace – diametrically oppo-
site to the paternalistic and militaristic support for Coubertin’s Olympics.
In 1925 workers travelled from all over the world to compete in Frankfurt and
150,000 spectators flocked to watch. In 1931 an astonishing 80,000 athletes
participated in the Vienna Workers Olympics watched by a quarter of a million
spectators. In 1936 American workers held their Olympiad in Cleveland.
Simultaneously, the workers of Barcelona were staging their own Barcelona
Popular Olympics – a response to the Nazi Games in Berlin. But after one day
the fascists, led by General Francisco Franco, rose against the elected Socialist
government, the games ended and many of the workers remained in Spain to
fight in the International Brigades against the Spanish fascists. They lost.
The following year the last Workers Olympiad was held in Antwerp. The sub-
sequent war and massive upheaval in Europe ensured that workers’ sport was
eliminated and there was no longer a popular rival to the IOC’s events. The ‘F’
word had saved the IOC.
464 The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name

At the Committee’s 1951 post-war convention there were complaints from

Dutch and Belgian sports officials about the presence of Germany’s Karl Ritter
von Halt, a former Nazi party member. Similar allegations were made against
the Duc de Mecklenberg-Schwerin. Avery Brundage, soon to become chief
guardian of Olympic Idealism and a man who had few problems with the ‘F’
word, leapt to von Halt’s defence, calling him ‘un parfait gentleman’ and IOC
President Sigfrid Edström closed the discussion announcing, ‘These are old
friends whom we receive today’.4
In one postwar European country, Spain, the ‘F’ word remained national
policy. Rising up through fascist politics in General Franco’s dictatorship was
an ambitious bureaucrat who had taken control of sport in his native Barcelona.
The young Samaranch assiduously courted the government in Madrid, signing
his letters, ‘Siempre a tus ordenes te saluda brazo en alto’; ‘Always at your com-
mand, I salute you with my arm raised’.5
The rightist ideology imposed on Spain by Franco was now reduced to
posturing; by the 1950s the fascist state had become the gangster state. The
Caudillo’s favourites paid low wages, got rich, and could circumnavigate the
autarky and its currency exchange and import controls.
Samaranch was photographed in uniform at a fascist parade in Barcelona
in 1954 with his fellow thugs. Part of their imagery included Olympic-style
burning torches, this time deployed to remind citizens these supermen had
won the civil war – and were still executing democrats. Twenty years onwards in
1974 – 29 years after the end of the Second World War – and by this time an IOC
vice-president – Samaranch was photographed still demonstrating his politics at
another Barcelona ceremony – with his right arm resolutely in the air.
In the postwar decades Samaranch ran a determined campaign to secure a
position on the IOC, his name becoming well-known in Lausanne. In 1959 IOC
President Avery Brundage was tipped off that Samaranch, now head of sport in
Franco’s administration, had been involved in illicitly laundering $400 million
out of Spain and the scandal had become public.6 It didn’t deter Brundage from
steering Samaranch into the IOC in 1966 and overseeing his swift promotion.

***

The financial bubble and integrated crime boom created on Wall Street and
in the City of London in the last few decades has been mirrored by an explosion
in the exploitation of elite sport. Sport was an essential weapon in the creation
of new global markets and the penetration of discrete and sometimes resistant
national identities.
The artificial concept of ‘universal’ highly competitive sports, nurtured in the
advanced capitalist nations, was deployed to transcend cultural and regulatory
barriers in continents where dance and drama were embedded social rituals.
 Andrew Jennings 465

For this exercise to succeed, existing officials in the international sports

federations had to be replaced by compliant managers with personal ambitions
beyond healthy pastimes. The traditionally part-time officials with incomes and
employment outside sport were replaced by fulltime creatures, keen to accept
the new concept of ‘marketing rights’.
Their cooperation was lubricated with the promise of an imperial lifestyle
earned from the sweat of the athletes and, covertly, bribes laundered through
middle-men – most often the marketing agencies.
In 1980, as Samaranch was elected IOC President, waiting in the wings was
a foresighted entrepreneur poised to privatise sport in the interests of brands
with global aspirations. Just to make sure he got his way, he had fixed the elec-
tion. Between them they created today’s grubby interface between capital and
sports administration. The amoral businessman and the amoral graduate of a
graft-ridden dictatorship were made for each other.
‘Olympic philosophy must move with the times, freeing itself from the
subjective viewpoint taken in the past, and taking up a more flexible posi-
tion.’ Who was this interloper writing in the January 1980 edition of the IOC’s
sacred newsletter, the Olympic Review? A profound philosopher and laureate?
A thoughtful leader of sports?
No. The author was a parvenu, a businessman. His manifesto was titled
Sport and Industry.7 He was Horst Dassler, the rising talent of the family-owned
Adidas sportswear company. Dassler had already captured football by creating a
money flow from the Coca-Cola company to FIFA’s grateful Brazilian president
João Havelange. But to achieve world domination for his business partners, he
needed to enrapture the Lords of the Rings. Commerce needed the IOC because
it had the most immaculate image – and it controlled the globe’s most myth-
laden sports event.
The great strategist, the father of sports marketing, teased them, tempted
them. ‘Professional football, which is still the greatest spectator sport in
the world, is now receiving more money from sponsors . . . than from
television.’
Six months after that Samaranch was elected. A year later he summoned a
congress of the Olympic Family – as they like to call it – in the German spa
of Baden-Baden. Thousands of delegates flew in to discover they were not
required to debate the future of amateur sport, but to rubber-stamp their lead-
er’s decisions.
Samaranch played his old fascist organisational tricks. The congress was
gagged and executive board members forbidden to express personal views. How
would the committee vote? They’d been taken care of: for the first time their
expenses were paid from IOC funds and a fabulous lifestyle beckoned once
they had sold the Olympic birthright. It was an easy decision: the Olympic
Charter was rewritten as the promoters’ charter.
466 The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name

Some feared that admitting professional athletes would kill the spirit of the
Games. Samaranch promised, ‘I wish to state clearly that we do not want the
participation of avowed professionals’. But he’d kicked the door open and as
each new Games came around, more professionals took part. Sponsors needed
the regular record-breaking fix.
The IOC members having capitulated, Dassler’s marketing company
International Sport and Leisure (ISL) was given the exclusive marketing rights
for the Games. At the heart of the negotiations was Samaranch, exchanging the
autonomy of sport for personal gain.
And boy was it profitable. Mr Stuart F. Cross, Coca-Cola’s vice president
for Corporate Marketing and Director of World-Wide Sports, explained: ‘The
strength of the Coca-Cola trademark coupled with the power of the Olympic
image offers a dynamic combination.’ What’s the result? ‘Interest in, and
viewership of, the Olympics allows us to translate that powerful brand imagery
into product sales,’ purred Mr Cross.8
When Daimler Benz donated 30 Mercedes cars for the exclusive use of the
IOC, Samaranch gurgled, ‘Partners such as Daimler-Benz contribute a great deal
towards the implementation of the Olympic Movement’s objectives and ideals
throughout the world’. Before anybody could ask him to prove this, Samaranch
delivered his punch line: ‘Together, the Olympic rings and the Mercedes star
form a unique combination.’9

***

Dassler lacked sufficient money to pay for marketing rights as he absorbed

track and field, swimming and more. He turned to an equally amoral operator,
Frenchman André Guelfi, one of the most stylish hustlers of the 20th century.
He ran a sardine fishery, acquired a pile of money, somehow, in turbulent,
newly independent Morocco, raced at Le Mans in 1953, married a niece of
President Pompidou and built a staggering property portfolio in Paris. Later he
became a secret money-launderer for the French government and spent time
in a Paris jail.
Guelfi’s money crucially helped Dassler find new backers for the 1980
Moscow Games after the Afghan invasion drove American sponsors away. But
there was a dark cloud on the horizon threatening the sale of sport to brands
and consumers. They demanded sport certified as drug-free as possible – while
guaranteeing a regular flow of world records. It wasn’t possible.
The Montreal Games of 1976 shook sport. Crude steroids were discovered in
most of the 11 positive tests and it was self-evident they were widely used at the
event. Positive tests at the next edition, the first games of the Samaranch era,
wouldn’t help the equally new era of Dassler and Guelfi. So the new president
had all positives thrown away in Moscow – producing a staggering reverse in
 Andrew Jennings 467

the swelling doping statistics. To add insult to injury, it was trumpeted in his
subsequent Olympic Review that ‘The Olympic Games in Moscow had been the
most “pure”. Proof of this is the fact that not one case of doping was registered’.
This was written by his doping chief, a Belgian aristocrat. It’s hard to believe that
any previous IOC President would have committed such a crime against sport.10
Commercial negotiations dragged on into the 1980s and the spotlight was
on the 1984 Los Angeles event, in the heartland of the sponsors. Within the
first few days there were 12 positives. Samaranch acted. This time, without the
connivance of the KGB, he secretly closed the laboratory before the athletics
finals of the last days that would yield some of the most memorable races –
but potentially some of the highest profile scandals. Ten years later the BBC
revealed that nine positive tests were suppressed in LA and all the doping
paperwork hurriedly destroyed.11
For the next 15 years Samaranch insisted that the IOC was fighting a war
against doping even as usage soared. The asset-sweating of sport compelled
athletes to take dangerous drugs to provide the television spectacles that the
newly named ‘partners’ required. Doping, the initial denials and subsequent
era of cover-ups generated a secret industry, a criminal conspiracy, of athletes,
coaches and officials.

***

In a breathtaking act of pagan ritual, The Renovator’s heart was cut from his
corpse and in 1938 couriered to Olympia in Greece for reburying under an ‘altar’.
The courier was Hitler apparatchik Carl Diem who had already proved himself
a worthy purveyor of fascist imagery to the Berlin extravaganza. Diem was a
moving force in the creation of the bogus torch-lighting ceremony at Olympia.
Fifteen white-robed young women, stated to be ‘virgins’, lit from the rays of the
sun a torch manufactured by war criminals Krupp. They relayed it through a
number of countries they would soon return to – with tanks and artillery.
The ritual remains the same today in advance of each Games. The only
development is that the torch – known as the ‘sacred flame’ – is handed over to
the Coca-Cola company for a global tour. I’ve not seen mention of the nearby
decaying heart of Coubertin in the deferential reporting of the ceremony.

***

‘AND NOW we draw blood. Your blood.’

You’ve been to the movies, you’ve seen the ritual of the ‘Made Man’. Swearing
the oath of loyalty, the pinprick on the finger, the burning of a religious item
and another lowlife is inducted into the Mob, applauded by heavy-jowled
deviants in fedoras.
468 The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name

I’ve seen it done for real. The Boss of Bosses, the old Don with lined face
but the sharpest eyes in the room, stands watching. His consigliere waves the
initiate forward and lowers the family flagpole from upright to horizontal.
The initiate takes a corner of the flag between finger and thumb and begins
to repeat the oath. ‘Granted the honour of becoming a member of the
International Olympic Committee, I undertake . . . to respect . . . the decisions
of the Committee which I consider as not subject to appeal on my part . . .’ 12
This induction was first performed in public at the Seoul Arts Centre in June
1999. The self-styled movement was emerging from the near-disaster of cor-
ruption and doping scandals and needed to demonstrate its resilience to the
brands whose business it craved.
The full, tedious text of the oath is in their Olympic Charter that flaunts
their legal right to pocket the money earned from the sweat of athletes. For the
new recruit, he has given up the right to dissent, he’s joined the lowest level
of a hierarchy. He can look pretty fancy out in the wider world. But in family
conclaves, he knows only to obey.
Did you ever hear an IOC member criticising their Maximum Leader? Of
course not. Now you know why.

***

By now, the judge in the Zug courtroom was tetchy. It was the second day of
the trial and the six businessmen were still in denial. Bribes to sports officials?
Yes, their company paid kickbacks. Yes, they shipped the money to accounts
in Liechtenstein that distributed it world-wide. The rest was dispersed in bags
of cash to officials wary of paper trails. But no, five of the six accused had
no names to give the court. They couldn’t – or wouldn’t – say who got the
money.13
One defendant did know. The tall, angular, now white-haired Bagman Jean-
Marie Weber, friend of former IOC President Samaranch, friend of former
FIFA president Havelange and his successor Blatter. Weber knew the name of
every official in world sport who would take ‘schmiergeld’ – the word used in
court – in return for selling their sports to the global brands.
The trial of the six former ISL executives – Dassler died suddenly in 1987
and ISL crashed in 2001 – was about deceiving creditors, and inevitably the
defendants were asked about the vast outflow of funds to offshore accounts
and the payment of 18 million francs in bribes in the last two years of the
company’s life when it was secretly insolvent. Such bribes were not then illegal
in Switzerland; defrauding creditors was.
Judge Marc Siegwart asked Weber, several times, who got the bribes. ‘On the
advice of my lawyer I have no statement to make,’ replied Weber. Siegwart
exploded. Eyeballing the accused he asked, pointblank, relying it seems on
 Andrew Jennings 469

statements made in earlier interrogations: Did they agree that in the previous
decade they’d paid an additional 120 million francs in bribes? Six heads nod-
ded. We reporters scribbled madly.
The next time I spotted Weber in action was at the Olympic Congress in
Copenhagen in October 2010. From years of hob-nobbing he knew who
took money. He was seen in jovial conversation with former FIFA president
Havelange – strategist for the Rio bid to stage the 2016 games – and an IOC
member since 1963. Rio won.

***

A typical definition of organised crime argues that it is

characterised by a strong and ruthless leader, a hierarchy, a strong code

of conduct for its members and, above all, the goal of power and profit.
Corrupt police and public officials, attorneys and judicial officers, political
leaders and businessmen comprise the protectors.14

Samaranch, and now the collegial Rogge, tick these boxes. The strong code of
conduct is the omertà culture. IOC members rarely voice public dissent. The
profit is self-evident. The protection comes at the highest level. They don’t
need to bribe cops and judges. Rogge’s power is demonstrated in his world
travels. He can snap his fingers and be greeted at every political leader’s offi-
cial residence. Most politicians want at some time to hitch their reputation
to securing the Olympics and so they produce the rictus grin and handshake.
Their cops don’t ask questions.
The corruption is sustained by these photo-opportunities. Sports editors con-
form, reluctant to upset their own cosy world, publish little to upset advertisers
or sports officials. Their reporters become gullible mouthpieces, allowing the
sports ‘industry’, percentage men and their many agencies to set the media
agenda.
The ISL company paying greedy sports officials to obtain contracts may have
been wrongly characterised by we reporters who covered the story. Perhaps it
wasn’t traditional, kickback corruption; maybe it was more, a laundering exer-
cise. The money came from the brands; did they not recognise that ISL was the
intermediary in a two-way traffic; delivering the sports in a form acceptable to
capitalism and transmitting the pay-offs to the officials who signed the con-
tracts? Could the exuberant salesmen from Chicago and Atlanta be unaware of
the rumble of rumour over the years that ISL paid bribes to sports officials?
From the 1980s the international sports federations became a battering ram
for global capitalism. The brands became the mafia commission, the federa-
tions the subservient families, each with their own boss. They delivered highly
470 The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name

desirable sport. In return, they were paid. Those who didn’t take direct bribes
squeak that they are clean. Who pays for their luxury lifestyles?
Coca-Cola vice-president John Hunter, speaking at the IOC Centenary
Congress in Paris in 1994, laid out the rules of engagement: ‘Just as sponsors
have the responsibility to preserve the integrity of the sport so too you have
responsibility and accountability to the sponsor.’ Accountable? What did he
mean? Did Mr Hunter know of the kickbacks to sports officials from the money
his company paid to buy marketing rights?15
Go to a football event in the developing world. Odds are it will be draped in
Coke emblems and slogans. Coke brings you sport and funding for develop-
ment. Coke is no longer a symbol of capitalist exploitation. The message is soft,
warm and persuasive. Coke brings you football, the Olympic Games, the world
track and field championship. Coke is your friend and benefactor.

***

Springtime 1993 in Beijing and the supreme Olympic official and his significant
companion pedal slowly along a tree-lined boulevard, pursued by cameramen.
Tonight the sequence will be screened on every TV in China. Four years after the
slaughter of young protesters, the Guardian of All Things Moral is in town creat-
ing happy new images and expunging that other picture – the one that brought
the world to tears – of the student who stood alone, defying the tanks.
The state-controlled media will ram the message home: the Olympic move-
ment’s leader is here to tell us, the outside world doesn’t care any more about
the bloodshed, the jailings. His bicycling companion is Chen Xitong, mayor
of Beijing, leader of the city’s bid for the 2000 Games, who signed the order
inviting the army to town to massacre the young demonstrators.
That last bit wasn’t in his curriculum vitae circulated to Olympic Committee
members at their annual convention in Birmingham in 1991 when Chen
was honoured with an Olympic Order. The citation read out by Samaranch
declared Chen was ‘an ardent defender of sport for youth’. (That didn’t help
when he was later jailed for corruption.) It took another 10 years’ lobbying and
Samaranch’s final official act was to force the Games to Beijing.16
The partners demanded access through the Olympics to China’s new economic
model. They got it. Samaranch’s footsoldiers were rumoured to have been well
looked after by their Beijing hosts in the years prior to their winning the vote.
Samaranch’s brigade of Olympic kleptomaniacs toured the planet plundering
cities bidding to host the Games and feeling up the local hostesses – few can
forget the legendary ‘Mr Wandering Hands’ – and declined to dine without
consulting the Guide Michelin.
They quickly made friends with – or milked – the Utah boosters who had
engaged in their own criminal conspiracy with the IOC. A small group of
 Andrew Jennings 471

businessmen formed a bid committee that, after significant bribes had been paid
to IOC members to secure the Winter Games, evolved into an organising com-
mittee that awarded construction and other contacts to many of its members.
The bribes leaked to local media at the end of November 1998 and three
months later Lausanne was packed with reporters, TV crews, government
ministers – and US Marshalls packing armpit bulges. (They were protecting
Clinton’s Drug Czar Barry MacCaffrey but IOC members feared they might
be arrested, extradited and arraigned in Utah for corruption.) The agenda was
doping reform but it became the corruption summit.
At the end of a week of turmoil the IOC, which had hired the public rela-
tions agency Hill & Knowlton, no strangers to clients with ethical problems,
announced their Reform Programme. The spin doctors, to move the media on
from their client’s record of embedded corruption, came up with a list of 72
people, many of them IOC members, others drawn from the sponsors, to sit on
the IOC’s ‘Commission 2000’.
The Reform Commissioners included former FIFA president Havelange, who
doesn’t deny recent published allegations that he took considerable bribes
from ISL, and his replacement the tainted Sepp Blatter. Track president Primo
Nebiolo, one of the biggest recipients of ISL bribes, was there, as was another
Italian, Mario Pescante, who had been forced to resign as President of the
Italian Olympic Committee after a doping scandal. He’s since been elevated to
the IOC Executive Board.17
Ruben Acosta of volleyball later resigned after corruption allegations. Franco
Carraro has remained an IOC member despite a hurried departure from the top
job in Italian football during a match-fixing scandal. (He also chairs FIFA’s Internal
Audit Committee.) Also making moral pronouncements was Bulgaria’s Ivan
Slavkov, expelled five years later when caught on a BBC camera soliciting a bribe.
Hill & Knowlton drafted pages of reforms, they claimed 50, enough to drown
the sports reporters. My favourite was merging the Culture and Education
Commissions.

***

‘I haven’t read it carefully,’ croaks that familiar, scary mittel-European growl.

An honest admission from Henry Kissinger! Henry is the star of the press con-
ference in the Olympic museum in Lausanne in October 1999, the headlining
act fronting the Salt Lake ‘reforms’.18
One criticism had been the IOC’s avoiding elections when selecting its mem-
bers. I asked Kissinger why there was no change, why they were still allowed to
choose people like themselves. ‘I think an attempt has been made to try and
subject each member to some election process,’ he hesitated. ‘I haven’t read it
carefully, is the word co-opt in?’
472 The Love That Dare Not Speak Its Name

I assured him it was. But what was Kissinger the old warmonger doing here?
Long departed from government, Kissinger runs a secretive global consulting
company. He acts for many major global brands. His job, to get the IOC’s
dented image back in shape. The sports reporters were cowed by him. Bingo!
The IOC’s serial corruption was redefined as the actions of a few ‘rogue’
members, a handful of developing-world petty thieves were expelled and the
scandal shrivelled away. The old fascist testified on Capitol Hill, manipulating
the precious time by demanding that every question and answer be translated
from Spanish to English – a language he was proficient in every other day. At
the end of his testimony he embraced Kissinger.
The most powerful operator at the IOC is their favourite ‘partner’ – the
General Electric company. GE money helps fund the irrelevant PR stunt,
the Olympic Truce. But GE’s stockholders would be enraged if there were one.
GE makes the jet engines for most of the aircraft bombing civilians in Iraq and
Afghanistan. A truce would be bad for business.
One of the biggest elements of the GE empire is money-lending. They’ve
been big in the subprime mortgage racket in America and in Europe. And to
make sure that telling the Olympic story is in safe hands, GE owns NBC who
has the TV rights to the American market. To keep the IOC in line, GE got their
own IOC member, NBC vice-president Alex Gilady.
Samaranch and now Rogge don’t forget the IOC’s roots. In a family that hov-
ers at around 115 members are a smattering of women, including some little-
known princesses. Rogge’s first new nominations, in 2002, included a couple
of young Gulf princes.
Sadly missed at the IOC are the members who got caught, all recruited
by Samaranch. It seemed such a good idea to give the world’s richest man,
Yoshiaki Tsutsumi, a Gold Olympic Order and make him an Honour Member.
That had to be revoked in 2005 after Tokyo fraud detectives found good reason
to visit his office. They had no choice about Indonesian rain-forest logger Bob
Hassan – he went to jail. A handful have departed in recent years, accused of
corruption at home and some, like volleyball capo Acosta, in a hurry. Kim
Un Yong, former spook in Korea’s Franco-style military dictatorship, boss of
taekwondo and a personal favourite of Samaranch, also relinquished his senior
position for jail.
At his death in April 2010, one of his closest supporters, America’s Peter
Ueberroth, revealed that Samaranch’s greatest regret was not winning the
Nobel Peace Prize.19

Notes
1. Marx-Engels Collected Works, Vol. 6, 558 and Vol. 7, 128.
2. Photographs of Samaranch in fascist uniform at: www.transparencyinsport.org/
The_IOCs_Favourite_Fascist/the_iocs_favourite_fascist.html.
 Andrew Jennings 473

3. See Loland, Coubertin’s Ideology of Olympism.

4. Guttmann. The Games Must Go On: Avery Brundage and the Olympic Movement, 40.
5. Financial Times, 22 April 2010. Obituary by Andrew Jennings, at: www.ft.com/
cms/s/0/273bec86-4da6-11df-9560-00144feab49a.html. Also in the archive of the
Barcelona Civil Governor.
6. The Avery Brundage archive at the University of Illinois campus at Urbana-
Champaign; ‘Samaranch and $400 million.’
7. Horst Dassler’s astonishing proposal to commercialise the Olympics. Olympic Review,
1980, 26.
8. Cross. IOC Marketing Matters.
9. Samaranch’s ecstatic comments on Daimler-Benz: Olympic Review, December 1991, 552.
10. Moscow Games were ‘pure’: Olympic Review, 1981, 158.
11. BBC TV On The Line: ‘Testing the Testers’.
12. IOC Olympic Charter, 30–31
13. www.transparencyinsport.org/swiss_trial_page4.html
14. Kumar, ‘Organised Crime’.
15. Coca-Cola vice-president John Hunter, Olympic Congress, Paris, August 1994,
quoted in Andrew Jennings, ‘The Sniper’s Guide to the Bird’s Nest’.
16. Chen Xitong’s citation for his Olympic Order; Olympic Review, 1991, 328.
17. Hoberman, Testosterone Dreams, 254.
18. Jennings, The Great Olympic Swindle, 318.
19. Peace Prize for Samaranch; Inside the Rings: Tributes for Former IOC President.

References
Avery Brundage archive, University of Illinois campus at Urbana-Champaign, Illinois.
BBC TV On The Line series: ‘Testing the Testers’, 22 August 1994.
Cross, S. (1994) IOC Marketing Matters; Issue 4; Spring.
Guttmann. A. (1984) The Games Must Go On: Avery Brundage and the Olympic Movement
(New York: Columbia University Press).
Hoberman, J. (2006) Testosterone Dreams (Berkeley: University of California Press),
Inside the Rings (2010) Tributes for Former IOC President. 21 April.
Jennings, A. (2000) The Great Olympic Swindle (New York: Simon & Schuster).
Jennings, A. (2008a) ‘The IOC’s Favourite Fascist’, at: www.transparencyinsport.org/
The_IOCs_Favourite_Fascist/the_iocs_favourite_fascist.html.
Jennings, A. (2008b) ‘The Sniper’s Guide to the Bird’s Nest’, at: www.transparencyinsport.
org/snipers_guide(page1).html.
Also in Lettre International, 20th anniversary edition, Berlin, June.
Kumar, N. (1999) ‘Organised Crime’, Policespeak, a Symposium on the Role of the Police in
Our Society, Seminar 483, November, at: www.india-seminar.com/1999/483/483%20
kumar.htm.
Loland, S. (1995) ‘Coubertin’s Ideology of Olympism’, Olympika: The International Journal
of Olympic Studies, 4, 49–78.
Marx-Engels Collected Works (1975/2005), Vol. 6. and Vol. 7 (Moscow: Progress Publishers).
Olympic Review, 1980, 1981, 1991.
29
‘There Will Be No Law that Will
Come Against Us’: An Important
Episode of Indigenous Resistance
and Activism in Olympic History
Christine M. O’Bonsawin

When considering Indigenous resistance and activism in association with

the Olympics, many will naturally recall the Games of 1976 Montréal, 1988
Calgary, 2000 Sydney, 2002 Salt Lake City, and of course, 2010 Vancouver.1
The inclusion of Indigenous Peoples within recent Olympic programming
may, conceivably, be contextualised within emergent international political
movements proposing to advance the rights of Indigenous Peoples world-
wide. While such initiatives may provide an important platform for the global
advancement of Indigenous awareness, which may in turn provide for greater
Indigenous participation within the Olympic Games, it is argued here that
Indigenous resistance and activism associated with Olympic programming
predates and is independent of such international political movements. In
fact, the inclusion of Indigenous Peoples within Olympic programming, and
thus Indigenous resistance and activism associated with such inclusion, can be
historicised to the first decade of the Olympic movement.
The founder of the modern Olympic Games, Baron Pierre de Coubertin,
maintained that the origin of an ‘Olympic idea’ was predisposed by the sym-
bolic power of public spectacles, as visibly embedded within the traditions of
international expositions. Late 19th-century international expositions had
the means of bringing spectacular sights and peoples from faraway lands and
mysterious places to Western locales and audiences. For those well-versed in
Olympic history, it is commonly known that from 1900 to 1908 – including
1900 Paris, 1904 St Louis and 1908 London – the Olympic Games were held
within the larger auspices of international expositions. The physical union of
the fair and the Olympic Games provided a physical platform for the transfer of
such traditions, and thus ideologies. In 1904, the St Louis Olympic Games were
held within the organisational structure of the Louisiana Purchase Exposition
(LPE). In a desperate attempt to popularise the Olympic Games, organisers
solicited ‘primitive peoples’ and ‘cultural anomalies’ from the LPE’s Section of
Ethnology and had them take part in an Olympic-like celebration. Occurrences
474
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 Christine M. O’Bonsawin 475

such as this undoubtedly served as concrete opportunities whereby exposition

traditions and ideologies could be readily transferred into an emergent Olympic
Games movement.
The aforementioned events are of noteworthy importance to this paper and
will be discussed at greater length in the discussion that follows. However,
these events are not the sole and primary focus of this study. Using critical
and anti-oppressive perspectives, this study recounts a little-known story in
Olympic history. The story centres upon the experiences of Charles (Charley)
Nowell, who was one of seven Kwakwaka’waka and Nuu-chah-nulth persons
who travelled from Vancouver Island to St Louis in the summer of 1904. From
the perspective of Charley Nowell, we learn of their experiences and encoun-
ters while participating in the Section of Ethnology exhibit at the LPE – an
exposition exhibit attraction that was officially partnered with the Olympic
Games program. For the most part, the academic community has disregarded
the longstanding participation of Indigenous Peoples within Olympic history.
On the rare occasion when Indigenous Peoples are afforded such atten-
tion within the dominant discourse it has all too often been presumed that
such Peoples have assumed nominal and unsuspecting roles. Indigenous
Peoples have forever served the spectacle and performance needs of Olympic
organisers. Using the 1904 St Louis event, this paper challenges such assump-
tions as it positions Indigenous Peoples as participatory agents who willingly
engaged in ongoing processes of colonial politics while taking part in a loosely
defined 1904 St Louis Olympic programme. In doing so, these seven individuals
asserted an active form of human agency and engaged in an ingenious process
of political resistance, thereby negotiating and challenging the oppressive con-
ditions of colonial Canada on the largest of public stages imaginable.
In celebration of the 100-year anniversary of the Louisiana Purchase, the
city of St Louis was given the responsibility of organising and hosting a com-
memorative event in remembrance of the 1803 American purchase of a large
landmass. Due to delays in planning, the fair was postponed by one year and
officially opened on 30 April 1904. The exhibition was officially themed ‘Man
and His Works’ and comprised 16 departments. Dr William McGee, a distin-
guished geologist, archaeologist, anthropologist and ethnologist, was selected as
Chief of the Department of Anthropology. The Department was further divided
into six sections, the most popular being the Section of Ethnology. This section
was made up of a living display comprised of Indigenous Peoples from various
cultures from all over the world, as McGee assumed each group possessed a
particular scientific and racial uniqueness that would validate the anthropo-
logical visions of the Department. Ultimately, McGee aspired to unveil the
most comprehensive hierarchical matrix of physical-cultural development. He
adopted an evolutionary paradigm that positioned all of humanity on a linear
continuum ranging from barbarism, savagery, civilization to enlightenment.2
476 ‘There Will Be No Law That Will Come Against Us’

In his 1905 Report of the Department of Anthropology, McGee notes the striking
race-types and physical attributes of various tribes, including the ‘Hairy Ainus’
of Japan and the ‘Patagonian Giants’ of Argentina.3 Cultural attributes were
associated with groups such as the Pygmies of Central Africa who were one of
the most powerful and warlike tribes on the continent; the Cocopa were recog-
nised for their agricultural endeavours; many American Indians were identified
for their unique accommodations, including the earth-lodges occupied by the
‘picturesque’ Pawnee and Navaho groups, and the aesthetically pleasing quar-
ters of the ‘refined’ Kickapoo. Representing Canada were two Kwakwaka’waka
men and five Nuu-chah-nulth persons, two women and three men. Commonly
referred to as ‘the Vancouver Island Group’ in anthropological records, these
seven individuals were included within the Section of Ethnology’s living dis-
play as they possessed ‘a highly interesting product of aboriginal culture’.4
In his article entitled, ‘Born from Dilemma: America Awakens to the Modern
Olympic Games, 1901–1903’, Robert K. Barney offers an exhaustive account
as to the controversial and unpopular decision to transfer and eventually award
the Games of the III Olympiad to the city of St Louis.5 According to Barney,
the late decision to transfer the Games from the city of Chicago to that of
St Louis was directly related to the postponement of the World’s Fair, as well
pressure put on Coubertin by LPE organisers. Upon the opening of the St Louis
Olympics, Coubertin’s greatest fear was realised as the Games failed to attract
the anticipated and desired number of fairgoers. In mid-summer, and in a des-
perate attempt to popularise the Olympic Games, the Chief of the Department
of Physical Culture and the Olympic Games, James E. Sullivan, approached
McGee with an enticing offer, whereby he requested that the two departments
partner for the purpose of hosting an Olympic-like sporting event involving the
‘primitive peoples’ and ‘cultural anomalies’ of the fair. Sullivan believed that
such an event would help boost his faltering Olympic Games as well as provide
McGee with a means of measuring the physical prowess and attributes of the
‘savage’ peoples of the fair. Naturally McGee agreed to this request. As Mark
Dyreson contends:

Attaching anthropology to the mania for modern sport at the first Olympic
Games ever held on American soil seemed a stroke of genius. In spite of
his earlier assertions that ‘primitives’ were no match for modern athletes,
McGee set out to market the very curiosity about ‘alien races’ that he shared
with much of the American public through events that measured the ‘vigor’
of a variety of human cultures.6

In honour of McGee and the Department of Anthropology, the Department

of Physical Culture and Olympic organisers hosted the Anthropology Days
athletic event on 11–12 August 1904. The Anthropology Days athletic event
 Christine M. O’Bonsawin 477

proved to be a last-ditch effort to popularise the St Louis Olympic Games

proper by incorporating Indigenous Peoples as anthropological spectacles for
the purpose of attracting fairgoers to a waning Olympic program. For this event,
Indigenous Peoples in attendance at the fair were asked to compete in both
‘primitive’ (such as climbing poles and throwing bolos) and ‘civilized’ (such as
the 100-metre run and javelin) sport. While there is no evidence to suggest any
members of the Vancouver Island group participated in the Anthropology Days
athletic event per se, it is argued that through this partnership Olympic organ-
isers sought to loosely attach its Olympic program to the decidedly popular
exhibits of the LPE, particularly to the Department of Anthropology’s Section
of Ethnology involving ‘primitive’ and ‘alien races’.7
The decision to incorporate Indigenous Peoples as spectacles may, for some,
appear to have simply arisen out of a desperate need to popularise a futile
St Louis Olympic program. However, it is argued here that this episode did not
arise solely out of a mere necessity to popularise this particular Olympic celebra-
tion. Rather, in accordance with sport anthropologist John A. MacAloon,8 it is
maintained that the origin of an ‘Olympic idea’ was predisposed by Coubertin’s
keen awareness of the increasing popularity of participatory and spectator sport
in the Western world and the symbolic power of public spectacles, which were
visibly embedded within the traditions of international expositions. In an
attempt to categorise the ‘spectacle performance type’, MacAloon proposes:

The English word ‘spectacle’ derives from the Latin intensive specere ‘to look
at,’ and ultimately from the Indo-European root spek ‘to observe.’ The dic-
tionary definition echoes this etymology, defining ‘spectacle’ first of all as
‘something exhibited . . . a remarkable or noteworthy sight.’ Spectacles give
primacy to visual sensory and symbolic codes: they are things to be seen.9

As early as 1894, Olympic officials vehemently petitioned that the Games

were to be founded upon traditions of the ‘festival performance type’, thereby
suggesting that the Olympics were to be internally fixed to schedules and pro-
grammes of special observances. However, as MacAloon argues, between 1894
and 1915 the ‘spectacle performance type’ serves as a paramount genre in early
Olympic history as the Olympic program lacked a structured format as well
as a sound and systematic agenda. Consequently, it is the spectacle perform-
ance type, and not the festival, that serves as the meta-genre of early Olympic
history, and which served to popularise and stabilise an emergent Olympic
movement.10
For Olympic historians, it is commonly known that the 1904 St Louis
Olympic Games proved to be a dismal failure. Rationales for this include a lack
of awareness of the Games at this time (particularly in America), the incorpo-
ration of the Olympic Games into a larger World’s Fair structure, and the late
478 ‘There Will Be No Law That Will Come Against Us’

transfer of the Games from the city of Chicago to that of St Louis, to name a
few. In consideration of MacAloon’s theory of the spectacle performance type,
it comes as no surprise that within the early structure of the Olympic move-
ment, and given the symbolic power of public spectacles as embedded within
the traditions of international expositions, Olympic organisers would natu-
rally seek to popularise their events with remarkable and noteworthy sights.
The 1904 partnership between the Olympic programme and the Department
of Anthropology was by no means the first attempt on the part of Olympic
organisers to popularise the Games with such spectacles. The Games of Athens
1896 and Paris 1900 certainly incorporated sights of splendour and curiosity.
The 1904 event, rather, serves as the first episode in Olympic history whereby
Indigenous Peoples were incorporated within the Olympic program, albeit
informally. In doing so, Olympic organisers expected that the inclusion of
such ‘cultural anomalies’ and anthropological curiosities would naturally serve
to popularise a faltering St Louis Olympic programme, and thus, bring further
stability and validity to a waning Olympic movement.
What follows is a short story, as informed by Charley Nowell, regarding his
travels from Alert Bay, British Columbia, to St Louis in the summer of 1904
to take part in the Section of Ethnology exhibit at the LPE. While the history
of this event has been recounted in various sources, and has received some
attention within anthropological discourse, there is no written source more
telling than that of a 1941 publication by Clellan S. Ford entitled Smoke from
their Fires: The Life of a Kwakiutl Chief.11 Ford chronicles and recounts Charley
Nowell’s life story, including his birth in Fort Rupert, his childhood and adoles-
cent years in Alert Bay, and even his travels to St Louis in 1904. It is important
to note that this biography was pulled together through the culmination of
field study made during the summer of 1940, conceptualised within the works
of Franz Boas and the Boasian anthropological school of thought, and was
written in collaboration with Charley Nowell himself. Ford dedicates this book
to Nowell, and offers his sincere gratefulness to him in the acknowledgements
when stating:

I owe most, of course, to Charles James Nowell whose life story is presented
here. His patience in teaching me the complexities of his native culture
won my deepest gratitude. Throughout my work with him he displayed an
interest, honesty, and faithfulness which left nothing to be desired. At best,
this volume could express but a fraction of my indebtedness to him.12

While this piece was authored by Ford, it is written in the first person of
Charley Nowell and is explicitly referred to as ‘Charley’s Story’. In chapter nine
we learn, presumably from Nowell’s own telling, about Charley’s life including
his experiences in the summer of 1904.
 Christine M. O’Bonsawin 479

From 1899 to 1924, Nowell worked closely with Dr Charles Fredrick

Newcombe, a trained medical doctor as well as a professional botanist and
ethnographic researcher. During these years, Nowell served as Newcombe’s col-
lecting assistant and interpreter, and was responsible for travelling with him
to other Indian villages, such as Quatsino and Bella Coola, as well as to vari-
ous cities, such as Victoria, New York, Washington and St Louis. As explained
in Smoke from their Fires, Newcombe planned for two Kwakwaka’wakw men,
Charley Nowell (originally from Fort Rupert) and Bob Harris (originally from
Knight’s Inlet) to travel from Alert Bay, along with five Nuu-chah-nulth per-
sons, three men and two women, from the West Coast of Vancouver Island,
to St Louis in order to participate in the Section of Ethnology Exhibit of the
LPE.13 While living within this ethnological encampment the Nuu-chah-nulth
women wove such things as baskets, mats, and hats, and the men carved and
painted keepsakes for paying fairgoers. Moreover, ‘Nowell and Harris derived
most of their income from the admissions paid to see their dances’.14 Their
participation within such performances, particularly the decision of these two
men to dance for paying audiences, needs to be critically considered in the
context of Canadian policies and policies.
At this time, under the supreme rule of Canada’s Indian Act, it was technically
illegal for Indigenous persons to participate in such acts, particularly for paying
audiences. In 1884 the Indian Act was amended to include a section which
broadly prohibited ‘Indian festivals, dances, and ceremonies’. As of 1904, this
section of the Indian Act explicitly read:

Every Indian or other person who engages in or assists in celebrating the

Indian festival known as the ‘Potlatch’ or the Indian dance known as the
‘Tamanawas’ is guilty of a misdemeanor, and shall be liable to imprisonment
for a term not more than six nor less than two months in a jail or other
place of confinement; and, any Indian or other person who encourages,
either directly or indirectly an Indian or Indians to get up such a festival or
dance, or to celebrate the same, or who shall assist in the celebration of same
is guilty of a like offence, and shall be liable to the same punishment.15

In consideration of this strict Indian Act probation it is important that we fully

consider the significance of the following performance and the actions of Bob
Harris, Charley Nowell and the Nuu-chah-nulth group while participating in
the Section of Ethnology exhibit at the LPE.
In the summer of 1904, the Vancouver Island group participated and
remained at the fair for a few months; however, they are most remembered
for a performance they were asked to put on in the summer for an audience of
approximately 20,000. While LPE records and anthropological writings have
commonly referred to this as having been a ‘violent’, ‘savage’ and ‘cannibalistic’
480 ‘There Will Be No Law That Will Come Against Us’

performance, Charley Nowell remembers this as simply being a ‘good story’.16

In fact, when recounting his experiences at the St Louis world’s fair, Nowell
focuses solely on this particular performance. During their stay at the LPE, the
Vancouver Island group was asked to perform for the ‘big people’ of the fair,
which included the President of the LPE, David R. Francis, and the Chief of
the Department of Anthropology, McGee. In the preceding week, Nowell and
Bob Harris enthusiastically prepared for this performance. In doing so, they
solicited the help of an African boy from the Congo delegation who had spent
a significant amount of time hanging around their dwelling. In exchange for
his cooperation, Bob Harris gave this boy countless bananas while he crafted a
doll-like replica of him using small bones and mutton flesh. Bob Harris then
baked it, filled the inside with blood-like paint, and placed a whistle in its mov-
ing mouth. With the crafting of this figurine and with the cooperation of the
African boy and their fellow Nuu-chah-nulth conspirators, the stage was set
for a performance that would astonish thousands and thus be remembered for
years to come.
According to Nowell, and as written by Ford, this St Louis performance began
with Nowell and Harris performing to a Bella Bella dance, which the people
of the West Coast were familiar with. At the near end of the first song, Harris
made a mistake in beating the board and uttered, ‘Hap-hap-hap’. Charley
Nowell explained to the crowd that the Cannibal was mad because they made
a mistake, and that they were not sure what to do because the Cannibal was so
fierce. The two men from the West Coast tried to hold Bob Harris down in an
effort to prevent him from going toward the people in the crowd, and:

Finally he got away from them, and he ran around. When he got to where
this little fellow was sitting, he picked him up and ran behind the screen
and left him there. Then he took hold of the thing he made just like him
and make it squeak, it was yelling loud. Bob Harris came in front of us and
set this little fellow in front of us and push his head down and bite until
out came the blood all over his face . . . Bob Harris was eating the mutton.
I was the one that was cutting the flesh in strips while he was eating them,
and crying, ‘Hap-hap.’ When he got through eating – some of us helped him
because we were hungry . . . I told the men in the hall that we have done a
great thing that is only done in the wintertime, and that we are going home
to our Indian house where we will try to bring him back to life again.17

Immediately following the performance, a frightened Newcombe purposely

avoided Nowell and Harris; however, he did take the time to inform them
that upon their return home the two of them would be hanged for murder.
That evening, in the presence of a house full of horrified yet curious audience
members, Nowell and Harris engaged in a second performance. With the help
 Christine M. O’Bonsawin 481

of the Nuu-chah-nulth group, they seemingly brought the African boy back
to life. Following this miracle of sorts, Nowell announced: ‘I am very glad to
learn that our friend here, Bob Harris, done this great thing . . . now he [the
African boy] is alive. And I am glad that there will be no law that will come
against us.’18
The significance of this performance may not be readily apparent at this
point. Yet it warrants a thorough explanation as well as careful consideration.
It should be remembered that under Canada’s Indian Act it was illegal, at this
time, for Indigenous Peoples to engage in or assist with Indian dances in which
there was the paying of money and where the wounding or mutilation of the
dead or living forms a part or feature. Those caught engaging in such acts could
be, and frequently were, arrested and jailed. This leads one to carefully consider
the 1904 performance in St Louis whereby the Vancouver Island group danced
and performed for paying audiences, and in doing so, seemingly engaged in an
act that featured the wounding of the living and the mutilation of the dead. In
consideration of the strict Indian Act regulation prohibiting such acts, how is
it that Nowell, Harris and their Nuu-chah-nulth accomplices knew that there
would be no law that would come against them?
The answer to the query is twofold. First, despite these strict prohibitions,
it is important to remember that this section of the Indian Act further stipu-
lated that ‘nothing in this section shall be construed to prevent the holding
of any agricultural show or exhibition or giving of prizes for exhibit thereat’.19
On the one hand, Indians proved to be relics of spectacle, and to omit them
from displays altogether was detrimental to the successes of agricultural shows
and exhibitions. On the other hand, events such as agricultural shows and
exhibitions proved to be opportune mediums whereby the Canadian govern-
ment could showcase the successes of its Indian civilising policies. In order to
accomplish this, the government needed to ensure that ‘Indians of long-ago’
were positioned in sharp contrast to the ‘acculturated Indians’ of present day.
For these reasons, it was not only important that these old-blanket Indians
be in attendance at such events but also that they be engaging in ‘old and
authentic’ Indian ways, including dancing. For this reason, the Indian Act
section prohibiting ‘Indian festivals, dances, and ceremonies’ was amended in
1886 (from its original form in 1884), thereby making an exception for such
participation by Indigenous Peoples within the strictures of agricultural shows
and exhibitions. In fact, at the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition in Chicago,
the Kwakwaka’waka delegation staged a similar performance, but on a signifi-
cantly larger scale. Following this Chicago performance, international newspa-
pers such as London’s Sunday Times, zealously reported that a Kwakwaka’waka
performance had taken place in Chicago, which included ‘bites into living
flesh, ropes being pulled through slits on dancers’ backs, and what appeared
to be cannibalism’.20 After learning about such performances in Chicago,
482 ‘There Will Be No Law That Will Come Against Us’

Canadian Indian Agents and missionaries were unmistakably outraged. As

Paige Raibmon notes:

The appearance of the Kwakwaka’waka on the Chicago stage, the most

public world stage imaginable, dramatically revealed that after more than a
decade of work, Hall [a Kwakwaka’waka missionary] still had not succeeded
in his mission to sedentarize, civilize, and Christianize. Outraged and
embarrassed, Hall immediately wrote to the Canadian officials demanding
that they stop the Kwakwaka’waka performances immediately. Invoking the
American comparison [the 1889 Agreement], he complained that whereas
the US government exhibited signs of its successful civilization programs
in its industrial school exhibits, the Kwakwaka’waka representatives from
Canada were chosen by Dr Boaz [sic] because [they were] the most degraded
he could find in the Dominion.21

Although the 1904 St Louis performance was not of the same magnitude, it
certainly was reminiscent of the 1893 Chicago affair.
Secondly, while the Canadian government was eager to use the popularity
of agricultural shows and exhibitions to showcase the successes of its civilising
policies, it became increasingly difficult to manage when such events took
place outside of Canada. Similar to its Canadian counterpart, the United States
government was also eager to demonstrate the successes of its own Indian
policies. As such, the United States government went so far as to establish
the ‘1889 Agreement’, which stipulated that if America’s blanket Indians were
to be exhibited they must be placed in juxtaposition with a band of youths,
specifically civilised Indian children who had benefited from the government’s
residential schools. Accordingly, the ‘1889 Agreement’ was employed in the
ethnological displays at the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition and the 1904
LPE.22 What better way to showcase the successes of American Indian civilising
policies than to position them in sharp contrast to other ‘primitive peoples’
of the world. Primarily through the work of the German-American anthro-
pologist Franz Boas, the Indigenous Peoples of the Northwest Coast of Canada
had become highly popularised within academic and public consciousness.
Naturally, the inclusion of such population groups and Peoples became exceed-
ingly important to the successes of American expositions. For the American
government the successes of its own civilising policies could be directly con-
trasted against the perceived ‘savagery’ of Canada’s Northwest Coast Indigenous
Peoples. An American desire to include such population groups was, no doubt,
disconcerting for Canadian government officials. However, there was little the
Canadian government could do as ‘the Indians, like white men, [were] free to
make arrangements with whomsoever they please[d] . . the law[s] in Canada
[could not] be enforced in the United States’.23
 Christine M. O’Bonsawin 483

In consideration of these two points, it is reasonable to suggest that Charley

Nowell, Bob Harris and their Nuu-chah-nulth friends were astutely aware of
not only the oppressive policies of colonial Canada but also the reason for their
involvement in such international mega-events. While fair officials and audi-
ence members were aghast at what they had witnessed in this 1904 perform-
ance, their reactions were most likely of little concern to these Kwakwaka’waka
and Nuu-chah-nulth performers. Rather, the most significant audience mem-
ber for this performance was, in all probability, the Canadian government.
While it is fair to suggest that Indigenous persons only involved themselves in
such acts of resistance at American-hosted events as they understood that they
would not face legal punishment outside of Canada, it must be remembered
that the significance of such acts is not only that they evaded legal punish-
ment but also that they understood underlying American motivations for their
involvement. Canada was not involved in the hosting of any international
mega-events, including world’s fairs and Olympic Games, at this time. The
fact that American officials positioned Canada’s Northwest Coast Indigenous
populations low on the evolutionary linear continuum – as being at the stages
of barbarism and savagery – meant that these persons were in a good position
to act on such perceptions. Had such a large-scale event taken place at home,
Canada’s Northwest Coast Indians would not have been positioned in such
negative light. The 1904 LPE, as had the 1893 World’s Columbian Exposition,
arguably provided a desirable platform and perhaps the most operative arena
whereby Indigenous persons from Canada’s Northwest Coast could resist colo-
nial policies at home, and in doing so humiliate the Canadian government on
the most public of stages imaginable. The fact that ‘no law could come against
them’ was perhaps only an added incentive and encouragement for them to
engage in such acts of resistance and activism.
In the summer of 1904, Charley Nowell, Bob Harris and five Nuu-chah-nulth
participants travelled from Vancouver Island to St Louis for the purpose of
taking part in the World’s Fair. It remains unclear as to whether the decision
to stage such a politically contentious performance had long been planned by
any, or all, of these seven individuals, or if it was spontaneous decision that had
been made in the days leading up to this performance. However, after careful
consideration, we can logically reason that the decision to engage in such an
act was neither an isolated incident, nor was it devoid of politics. It must not
be forgotten that in participating in such international mega-events, including
international expositions and early Olympic Games, Indigenous Peoples were
engaging in an active process of human agency. In fact, they willingly partici-
pated in such events as they offered opportunities for such things as travel and
waged work. Furthermore, participating in these events of global proportions
offered an opening whereby Indigenous Peoples could actively oppose, on the
largest of stages imaginable, the oppressive policies of colonial Canada.
484 ‘There Will Be No Law That Will Come Against Us’

The first decade of the Olympic movement was certainly one of instability.
As such, the Games of 1900 to 1908 were physically merged with the respec-
tive World’s Fairs programmes. With the physical union of the LPE and in the
further partnership between the Department of Anthropology and the St Louis
Olympic programs, organisers sought to popularise these Games with anthro-
pological spectacles and cultural curiosities.
In straying from conventional approaches to Olympic history, the preced-
ing discussion is contextualised around the experiences of Charley Nowell,
Bob Harris and five Nuu-chah-nulth persons in their participation in the
1904 event. In doing so we learn that this ‘Vancouver Island group’ did not
simply serve as passive and unsuspecting curiosities in St Louis. Rather, their
participation within this event was part of a much broader process of colonial
politics and demonstrates an active form of human agency. Beyond willingly
travelling to St Louis for the purposes of participating in and financially gain-
ing from this event, Charley Nowell, Bob Harris and the five Nuu-chah-nulth
persons used this opportunity to seize the most public stage imaginable and
strategically engage in a performance of political dissonance. In doing so, they
audaciously expressed a discontentment with the oppressive conditions of
colonial Canada.
Throughout the 20th century, and as we move into the 21st, Indigenous
Peoples have continued to serve as cultural curiosities within Olympic pro-
grammes. Using this foremost case in Olympic history as point of departure,
it is argued that such participation did not, and does not, exist in the absence
of active human agency. In consideration of the increased participation of
Indigenous Peoples within Olympic programs, it becomes increasingly impor-
tant that this be considered in the context of Indigenous resistance and activism.
In taking such an approach, we learn that while remaining in oppressive and
marginalised positions, Indigenous Peoples have forever asserted human agency
within Olympic realms – as was the case with Charley Nowell, Bob Harris and the
five Nuu-chah-nulth participants in St Louis during the summer of 1904.

Notes
1. For more information pertaining to the inclusion of Indigenous Peoples and images
within specific Olympic Games, see: Forsyth, ‘Teepees and Tomahawks: Aboriginal
Cultural Representation at the 1976 Olympic Games’; Wamsley and Heine, ‘“Don’t
Mess with the Relay – It’s Bad Medicine”: Aboriginal Culture and the 1988 Winter
Olympics’; Magdalinski, ‘The Reinvention of Australia for the 2000 Olympic Games’;
Forsyth and Wamsley, ‘Symbols without Substance: Aboriginal Peoples and the
Illusions of Olympic Ceremonies.’; O’Bonsawin, ‘The Conundrum of “Ilanaaq”: First
Nations Representation and the 2010 Vancouver Winter Olympics’; O’Bonsawin,
‘“No Olympics on Stolen Native Land”: Contesting Olympic Narrative and Asserting
Indigenous Rights within the Discourse of the 2010 Vancouver Games’.
 Christine M. O’Bonsawin 485

2. Parezo, ‘A “Special Olympics”: Testing Racial Strength and Endurance at the 1904
Louisiana Purchase Exposition’.
3. McGee, Report of the Department of Anthropology.
4. Ibid., 107.
5. Barney, ‘Born from Dilemma: America Awakens to the Modern Olympic Games,
1901–1903’.
6. Dyreson, ‘The Physical Value of Races and Nations: Anthropology and Athletics at
the Louisiana Purchase Exposition’.
7. O’Bonsawin, ‘“From Savagery to Civic Organization”: The Non-Participation of
Canadian Indians in the Anthropology Days of the 1904 St. Louis Games’.
8. MacAloon, ‘Olympic Games and the Theory of Spectacles in Modern Societies’.
9. Ibid., 243.
10. Ibid.
11. Ford, Smoke from their Fires: The Life of a Kwakiutl Chief ; republished in 1968.
12. Ibid., ix.
13. The names of these seven Nuu-chah-nulth persons are not entirely known as their
names do not, for the most part, appear in anthropological records. There exists a
famous photo of the five men from the ‘Vancouver Island group’, which identifies
Charley Nowell and Bob Harris (often identified as Klalish and Klakoglas, respec-
tively). In this photo, two of the three Nuu-chah-nulth men are identified as Atlu
(who is acknowledged in Ford’s publication) and Saltitzin. The third Nuu-chah-nulth
man is identified as ‘unknown’. See Jacknis, The Storage Box of Tradition: Kwakiutl Art,
Anthropologists, and Museums, 1881–1981.
14. Jacknis, The Storage Box of Tradition, 91.
15. Indian Act S.C. (1895) An Act to Further Amend the Indian Act, 158.
16. Ford, Smoke from their Fires, 186.
17. Ibid., 187–188.
18. Ibid., 189.
19. Indian Act, 158.
20. Jacknis, ibid., p.88.
21. Raibmon, ‘Theatres of Contact: The Kwakwaka’waka Meet Colonialism in British
Columbia and at the Chicago’s World Fair, 184–185.
22. Trennert, ‘A Grand Failure: The Centennial Indian Exhibition of 1876’.
23. Jacknis, The Storage Box of Tradition, 88.

References
Barney, R. K. (1992) ‘Born from Dilemma: America Awakens to the Modern Olympic
Games, 1901–1903’, Olympika: The International Journal of Olympic Studies, 1, 92–135.
Dyreson, M. (2008) ‘The Physical Value of Races and Nations: Anthropology and Athletics
at the Louisiana Purchase Exposition’, in S. Brownell (ed.), The 1904 Anthropology Days
and Olympic Games: Sport, Race and American Imperialism (Nebraska: University of
Nebraska Press), 127–155.
Ford, C. S. (1968) Smoke from their Fires: The Life of a Kwakiutl Chief (Hamden: Shoe
String). First published 1941.
Forsyth, J. (2002) ‘Teepees and Tomahawks: Aboriginal Cultural Representation at the
1976 Olympic Games’, in K. B. Wamsley, R. K. Barney and S. G. Martyn (eds), The
Global Nexus Engaged: Past, Present, Future Interdisciplinary Olympic Studies (London ON:
The International Centre for Olympic Studies), 71–76.
486 ‘There Will Be No Law That Will Come Against Us’

Forsyth, J. and K. B. Wamsley (2005) ‘Symbols without Substance: Aboriginal Peoples

and the Illusions of Olympic Ceremonies’, in K. Young, K. and K. B. Wamsley (eds),
Global Olympics: Historical and Sociological Studies of the Modern Games (Oxford: Elsevier
Press), 227–248.
Jacknis, I. (2002) The Storage Box of Tradition: Kwakiutl Art, Anthropologists, and Museums,
1881–1981 (Washington DC: Smithsonian Institution Press).
Indian Act S.C. (1886) An Act the Further Amend the Indian Act R.S.C, c. 43, s. 114.
Indian Act S.C. (1895) An Act to Further Amend the Indian Act, c. 35, s. 6.
MacAloon, J. J. (1984) ‘Olympic Games and the Theory of Spectacles in Modern
Societies’. in J. J. MacAloon (ed.), Rite, Drama, Festival, Spectacle: Rehearsals Toward a
Theory of Cultural Performance (Philadelphia: Institute for the Study of Human Issues),
241–280.
Magdalinski, T. (2000) ‘The Reinvention of Australia for the 2000 Olympic Games’, The
International Journal of the History of Sport, 17.2/3, 305–322.
McGee, W. J., Chief (1905) Report of the Department of Anthropology (Universal Exposition
of 1904 – Division of Exhibits, Fredrick J. V. Skiff, Director. St Louis, USA).
O’Bonsawin, C. M. (2006) ‘The Conundrum of “Ilanaaq”’ : First Nations Representation
and the 2010 Vancouver Winter Olympics’, in N. G. Crowther, R. K. Barney and
M. K. Heine (eds), Cultural Imperialism in Action: Critiques in the Global Olympic Trust
(London ON: The International Centre for Olympic Studies), 387–394.
O’Bonsawin, C. M. (2008) ‘“From Savagery to Civic Organization’: The Non-Participation
of Canadian Indians in the Anthropology Days of the 1904 St Louis Games’, in
S. Brownell (ed.). The 1904 Anthropology Days and Olympic Games: Sport, Race and
American Imperialism (Nebraska: University of Nebraska Press), 217–242.
O’Bonsawin, C. M. (2010) ‘“No Olympics on Stolen Native Land”: Contesting Olympic
Narrative and Asserting Indigenous Rights within the Discourse of the 2010 Vancouver
Games’, Sport in Society, 13.1, 143–156.
Parezo, N. (2004) ‘A ‘Special Olympics’: Testing Racial Strength and Endurance at the
1904 Louisiana Purchase Exposition’. in S. Brownell (ed.), The 1904 Anthropology Days
and Olympic Games: Sport, Race and American Imperialism (Nebraska: University of
Nebraska Press), 59–126.
Raibmon, P. (2000) ‘Theatres of Contact: The Kwakwaka’waka Meet Colonialism in
British Columbia and at the Chicago’s World Fair, The Canadian Historical Review, 81.2,
157–192.
Trennert, R. A. (1974) ‘A Grand Failure: The Centennial Indian Exhibition of 1876’,
Prologue 6.2, 118–129.
Wamsley, K. B. and M. K. Heine (1994) ‘“Don’t Mess with the Relay – It’s Bad Medicine”:
Aboriginal Culture and the 1988 Winter Olympics’, in R. K. Barney, S. G. Martyn,
D. A. Brown and G. H. MacDonald (eds), Olympic Perspectives (London ON: The
International Centre for Olympic Studies), 173–178.
30
The Olympics and Indigenous
Peoples: Australia
Toni Bruce and Emma Wensing

Introduction

In this chapter, we consider the implications of the mainstream media

positioning of Aboriginal runner Cathy Freeman as the hope for a racially
reconciled Australia during the 2000 Olympic Games in Sydney. Given the
historic articulation of Australian nationalism to whiteness and masculinity,
it is remarkable that a young Aboriginal woman claimed such a central place
in media coverage of this global event.1 Freeman was undoubtedly the face of
the Games, the individual around whom imaginings of a racially reconciled
Australia coalesced.2 During the Games she became, to paraphrase Raymond
Williams, an operative historical force symbolising Australia’s vision of itself.3
Our analysis draws upon cultural studies theorising that sees media stories as
actively constitutive of reality and thus as having the potential to structure our
world views in ways that have social and political consequences.4 We argue that
one consequence of the positive coverage of Freeman is that it contributed to a
discourse of enlightened racism5 that ultimately served white6 Australians bet-
ter than Aboriginal peoples.7 Enlightened racism reflects the broader cultural
failure to recognise the effects of institutionalised racism, classism and sexism;
in Australia’s case, positive media coverage of Freeman does not necessarily lead
to changes in people’s racial attitudes towards Aboriginal people. Thus, enlight-
ened racism can lead to a world view that enables ‘white viewers to combine
an impeccably liberal attitude towards race with a deep-rooted suspicion of
black people’.8 This means that admiration for Freeman is able to co-exist with
a dislike of Aboriginal people in general.9 Thus, the problem with discourses
of enlightened racism is that despite their apparent progressiveness, they play
an insidious role in the continuation of existing racial ideologies. In addition,
by individualising success and failure, enlightened racism directs attention
away from structural barriers and enables whites ‘to assume that black people
who do not measure up . . . have only themselves to blame’.10 For example,

487
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
488 The Olympics and Indigenous Peoples: Australia

McKay11 suggests that Freeman’s Nike advertisements reflect discourses of

enlightened racism because they ignore the significant social, class and gender
barriers that Aboriginal women face and thus imply that all Aborigines/women
could succeed if they applied themselves. As well, Freeman has contributed to
such discourses with ‘public statements that support the notion that success is
available to all prepared to work for it’.12 Her biographer argues that her state-
ments are ‘guilt-freeing; the sort of tone that White Australia likes to hear’.13
There is no doubt that media representation of difference is always com-
plex. As Stuart Hall argues, ‘it engages feelings, attitudes and emotions and
it mobilises fears and anxieties in the viewer, at deeper levels than we can
explain in a simple, common-sense way’.14 In sport, although media coverage
has the potential to transform our ideas about race, it tends to reinforce exist-
ing racial ideologies15 even when it might superficially appear to represent a
major shift. This superficiality was evident in South African media coverage of
the 1995 Rugby World Cup, which discursively separated the sport of rugby
from its association with apartheid and reconstituted it as representative of the
entire nation.16 Yet Farred’s analysis instead implies support for discourses of
enlightened racism; he argues that rather than representing a real shift in racial
ideologies, media coverage of sport created a space in which South Africa could
symbolically absolve itself of its racist history ‘without having to relinquish the
privileges it has accrued from apartheid’.17

Articulations of race and nationalism

Numerous studies point to powerful exclusionary discourses pre-dating Australian

Federation in 1901 that have constituted the Australian nation as white and
denied Indigenous peoples an equal place.18 It was not until the 1960s that
changes in official policy led to all Indigenous Australians being able to vote in
national and state elections, being counted in the census (for the first time since
Federation), and gaining equal recognition as citizens.19 However, changes in
official policy are no guarantee of broader changes in cultural discourses of race.
For example, although the nation’s official ‘White Australia’ immigration policy
disappeared in the 1970s, a recent inquiry found it had ‘a lasting impact . . .
[that] . . . allowed the construction of a populist national identity which excludes
and marginalises groups on the basis of ethnicity and race’.20
By the 1990s when Freeman’s international running career began to gain
attention, race relations were at the forefront of public debate as legal decisions
rejected the concept of terra nullius (land belonging to no-one) used to justify
British colonisation, and white Australians began to learn the real extent of the
nation’s violent and oppressive relations with Aboriginal peoples, including the
systematic removal of Indigenous children from their families.21,22 As Morgan
describes it, ‘Revelations of massacres, of dispossession of traditional lands, the
 Toni Bruce and Emma Wensing 489

removal of children from their parents and so on have moved large numbers of
people, particularly middle class people, to recognize the need for some sort of
atonement’.23 Yet, in large part because the traces and echoes of previous racial
discourses persist,24 recent attempts to construct a more racially inclusive, toler-
ant and diverse national identity have been less than successful. Phillips and
Smith found that such themes ‘simply do not figure in everyday vocabularies
and concepts of the nation’ of ‘ordinary Australians’.25,26 Recent studies indicate
that a sizable proportion of the white population holds fast to old-fashioned
prejudice based on overt hostility towards Indigenous Australians and the
assumption that ‘some “racial groups” are naturally superior to others’.27 Even
in recent years, prominent political figures have publicly denigrated and abused
Aboriginal peoples, claiming they ‘really are centuries behind us in their cultural
attitudes’, are ‘inferior’ and are ‘not as good as the white people’.28
Freeman thus burst into public consciousness in the context of widespread
cultural debates about Australia’s history, after she controversially carried
both the Aboriginal and Australian flags on her victory lap after winning
the Commonwealth Games 400m in 1994.29 As public concern grew about what
the Australian government and people should do in order to right past wrongs,
Freeman became increasingly successful and popular even as she and other
Aboriginal athletes began to speak out about their experiences of racial prejudice.
By the end of the 1990s she was already a repeat 400m world champion, had been
named both Young Australian and Australian of the Year, and was being ‘repre-
sented as the sportswoman who metaphorically and literally embodies reconcili-
ation’.30 In the months before the Games, hundreds of thousands of Australians,
both white and Indigenous, marched in support of reconciliation, and almost
one million signed sorry books in the face of the national government’s refusal to
formally apologise for past injustices against Indigenous peoples.31 Given recent
research that suggests that Australians’ understandings of national identity tend
to be grounded in personal experience and in ‘real individuals, real places and
real community groups’32 rather than in abstract ideals, it is not surprising that
an outpouring of support for Freeman became one expression of their frustra-
tion. Australia’s purported reliance upon international sport to define itself may
be another reason.33 Thus, by the 2000 Olympics, race was not only definitely
on the public agenda but sport (in the form of the Olympic Games) had become
‘represented as the space where reconciliation could and should take place’.34
In this context, media discourses were crucial in terms of identifying how
Australians might collectively imagine themselves as part of a nation.35

Media texts

In the remainder of the chapter, we outline the broad dimensions of media

coverage of Freeman and consider the implications of the ways in which the
490 The Olympics and Indigenous Peoples: Australia

(non-Indigenous) Australian public and media embraced Freeman. We base

our discussion on a textual analysis of live television coverage of Freeman’s
gold medal race and more than 1000 articles, images, editorials and letters
to the editor in 11 major Australian newspapers during the Games. Although
our sample included all six states and the Australian Capital Territory, the
concentration of media ownership meant that only two companies accounted
for nine of the 11 newspapers, thus significantly reducing the variation
between them.36
Textual analysis is a powerful method for exposing underlying meanings.37
It allowed us to approach coverage of Freeman as a text that we could ‘wrench
free from the routines of its consumption that would ordinarily have us take
it for granted, and open it up for analysis’.38 In this approach, we took seri-
ously Hartley and McKee’s argument that it is most often via media cover-
age that ‘Aboriginal and non-Aboriginal Australians “speak” to each other’.39
Historically, media coverage of Australian race relations has been marked by
silence, superficiality and a focus on Indigenous peoples as ‘dissident, disrup-
tive, or criminal’,40 although this has not been as true for Indigenous sport and
entertainment stars.41

Articulating Freeman to national identity

Although it is almost impossible to describe the waves of emotion that followed

Freeman’s role in the opening ceremony and her much-heralded 400m gold
medal, well-known sportswriter Patrick Smith managed to capture the intensity
of the media and public response in a column written after her gold medal race:

Every time Cathy Freeman has run at these Olympics, a wave of energy and
emotion has pushed into all the nooks and crannies of the stadium. It has
been so palpable you could reach out and feel it in your fingers. Last night,
though, it was so strong it made it hard to keep your feet.42

Like Smith, both authors were in Sydney during the Games and can attest to
being caught up in the moment, simultaneously observing the event and riding
the roller coaster that was ‘Freemania’.43 Throughout the Games we noted that
the articulation of Freeman to national identity was most overt in photographs,
which were so widespread that her image came to signify the Olympics.44
However, while Freeman’s image was ubiquitous, her voice was markedly absent
in the words written about her during the Games. Although Freeman did not
do interviews before her 400m final and did not seek media coverage during
the Olympics, the visibility of her image and the absence of her voice created
a space in which multiple discourses could circulate. We suggest that what
Freeman had to say was less important than – and sometimes counterproductive
 Toni Bruce and Emma Wensing 491

to – the context of her construction as a symbol of reconciliation and the future

of the nation. Indeed, her symbolic importance was made unusually overt in a
statement by an opening ceremony organiser who claimed: ‘We were just lucky
that a person like Cathy existed. If she didn’t, we would have had to invent
her.’45 Yet the Cathy Freeman represented during the Olympic Games was in
many ways an invention. She was, as Turner46 argues more generally, a national
fiction that Australians collaborated in producing throughout the Olympics.
The country’s need for such a symbol was revealed in large part by the often
wild claims made for her selection as cauldron lighter and her gold medal win,
and their likely impact on the nation and its understanding of itself, as reflected
in the following letter to the editor: ‘Cathy Freeman has done something that
Prime Minister Howard has failed to do for Australia. She took only 49.11
seconds to unite the people of Australia.’47
It was the widespread nature of these claims, in all newspapers and from
people from all walks of life such as politicians, Aboriginal leaders, Freeman’s
family, the public, journalists and commentators, that point to the strength of
the articulation of Freeman to national identity.48 In Channel 7’s live coverage
of her 400m final, the claim by one commentator that ‘there will not be one
television in this country that isn’t turned on at the moment’ was borne out by
evidence that more than nine million television viewers saw her race, making
it the most watched sporting event in Australian television history.49 Numerous
newspaper articles claimed that Freeman’s race would stop the nation. Others
described it as one of the most emotion-charged events of the Games, some-
thing for which the whole nation would be holding its breath. After the race,
the crowd ‘exploded into a frenzy of celebration’ according to one journalist.50
Headlines after her gold medal played strongly on the national theme:
for example, ‘A nation’s will drives Cathy to her destiny’ (West Australian)
and ‘Nation’s chosen one fulfils prophecy’ (Courier-Mail). The Sydney Daily
Telegraph’s editorial was not unusual in its emotive representation:

That she, who represented so much to us all, should also stand – as we had
hoped so fervently – within the golden sanctuary of victors provoked an
unmatchable upwelling of the soul, and if there are no more medals to come
our way, it will not matter . . . As we enfold her in our embrace, sharing in
her triumph, we salute her, honour her and thank her.51

In stark contrast to the ideology of objective reporting, journalists were repre-

sented as emotionally impacted by Freeman’s win. One described ‘turning after
the finish to see many journalists wiping away tears as they typed to meet tight
deadlines’52 and another reported hearing old journalists ‘talking in the bar
about having undergone a spiritual or religious experience’.53 The public too
was seen to be emotionally invested in Freeman’s success with one journalist
492 The Olympics and Indigenous Peoples: Australia

claiming that ‘no veteran Australian sportsperson, official or commentator can

recall a response like it to any individual sporting competitor’:54

Australia stood as one last night . . . The 110,000 fans packed into Stadium
Australia jumped to their feet and exploded with a delirium as yet unheard
in an Australian sporting arena . . . Many in the crowd who screamed and
willed Freeman over the finish line also wept with sheer joy.55

Unusually in the media construction of national heroes, the overtly political

nature of Freeman’s articulation to national identity was widely apparent.56
One editorial asked ‘has any other nation projected as much political signifi-
cance on to an Olympic gold as Australia has on the medal Cathy Freeman
won last night?’57 Not only was she linked to internationally resonant symbols
such as the 1968 Olympic black athlete protest and the Statue of Liberty but a
number of media commentators implied that the public embrace of Freeman
was intimately connected to the Government’s intransigence on issues of
reconciliation. For example:

To describe the sound that permeated around Stadium Australia when

Freeman burst out of the pack about the 300m mark and straightened up for
home is almost impossible. It was guttural, spiritual and spine-tingling . . .
It wasn’t the sound of a huge crowd roaring, it was a nation screaming sorry
in its own unique way.58

Implicit and often explicit critiques of the Government’s position on reconcilia-

tion were apparent throughout the coverage. For example: ‘It’s as if . . . the urge
for reconciliation, frustrated at the political level, has found another outlet’.59 The
national affairs editor for The Australian newspaper wrote that the public response
to the opening ceremony suggested ‘that if more political leadership were offered
on Aboriginal issues – the symbolic and spiritual as well as the practical – great
strides could be made towards reconciliation’.60 The then-Opposition leader Kim
Beazley called Freeman’s race ‘400 metres of national reconciliation’.61 Another
commentator called it ‘a moment that transcended sport and must surely be the
catalyst for true reconciliation between black and white Australians.’62

Enlightened racism in action

Despite the multiple claims above, the lack of specificity about what might
actually constitute ‘true reconciliation’ is a strong indication that the public
and media embrace of Freeman represents enlightened racism. The apparent
desire of many white Australians to symbolically absolve themselves of their
racist history without necessarily giving up the privileges they have gained
 Toni Bruce and Emma Wensing 493

from it is most evident in the way that media coverage revolved around a
fantasy of the future, rather than the more common nostalgia for the past.

Future fantasies
The yearning for a future different from the present was evident in all forms of
coverage including letters to the editor, editorials, commentaries and news cover-
age. In the face of the government failure to officially apologise to Indigenous
Australians for injustices that had only become widespread knowledge in the mid-
1990s, it should not be particularly surprising that Australia’s apparent need for a
new imagined community that embraced Indigenous Australians coalesced around
Freeman, the undoubted Australian star of the world’s largest sporting event.
Enlightened racism permeates this form of representation which implies
that rather than dealing with the messy, complex issues of now, the nation
can leapfrog its way to a fantasised, reconciled future of Indigenous equality
on the back of Freeman’s (individual) success. The silence about the effects of
institutionalised racism were evident even in commentaries that acknowledged
not only that reconciliation was far from achieved but that contestation con-
tinued over the inclusion of Aboriginal peoples into the Australian story.63 For
example, an Advertiser editorial suggested that ‘she is the pride of Australia.
Not perhaps the Australia that is but the Australia that all men and women, all
shades of goodwill, want it to be’.64
The focus was overt in quotes from the public and many letters to the
editor. For example: ‘She represented the future, where hopefully we are all
headed . . .’65 Another letter writer claimed Freeman lit a ‘flame in the hearts of
all Australians that will be a beacon of hope and joy for generations to come’.66
Yet another described the choice of Freeman to light the cauldron as ‘symbolic
of the Australia that we are working to become’.67 One writer thanked Freeman
for ‘giving us a vision of what the future might be.’68 Journalists and media
commentators were similarly focused, in comments that framed Freeman as rep-
resenting ‘optimism about the future’69 and as carrying ‘the hopes of everyone
for whom the dream of a truly united country burns bright’.70 A Canberra Times
editorial suggested that not only had her gold medal ‘prompted one of the most
inclusive and unifying celebrations we have experienced as a nation’ but it also
provided a ‘golden opportunity to heal some very deep scars’.71 Such comments
demonstrate enlightened racism in their failure to recognise that unless Australia
takes specific steps to deal with the effects of institutionalised racism, such as
poverty, ill-health, depression and alcoholism, such healing is unlikely to occur.

Feeling good/escaping responsibility

Some media coverage clearly reflected the duality of enlightened racism, sug-
gesting that it is quite possible for Australians to love Freeman while holding
on to racist ideas about Aboriginal failure more generally. These views support
494 The Olympics and Indigenous Peoples: Australia

McKay’s argument that Nike advertisements perform an important ideological

function by providing white audiences with, among other things, ‘relief from
responsibility’ in regard to racial inequalities:

If a black athlete from a tiny college in the deep South can ‘Just Do It’ then
one implication is that anybody can make it. Moreover, if getting ahead is
simply a matter of individuals working hard, rather than institutionalised
classism, sexism and racism, then people who fail have no one to blame but
themselves.72

Similar sentiments were evident in some of the media coverage of Freeman. For
example, one letter to the Daily Telegraph the day after her gold medal clearly
embodies the ideological function identified by McKay:73

She has got to where she is without handouts, without special considera-
tions, but has simply taken on the world as an equal and won by her perse-
verance and ability. The way Australia got behind her as a nation also put to
rest forever the lie that this is a racist country or a country that wants to be
divided. Cathy Freeman has proved Australia is one country where anyone
can make it, no matter what the colour of their skin, if they are prepared to
have a go and work hard enough at it.74

Others agreed, such as the letter writer who suggested that ‘those who think
the only way to Aboriginal reconciliation is by treaty, guilt-inspired policies
and apologies should pause to consider how Cathy achieved her goal: by hard
work and a refusal to complain about her lot in life’.75 Just as she has in the
past, Freeman also contributed to this ideology of enlightened racism in a
statement six days before her gold medal race: ‘I like to typify any Aboriginal
person in Australia who is taking advantage of the opportunities available here
in Australia to anybody. This is what I am about.’76 To paraphrase Lewis and
Jhally, the 2000 Games media coverage may have created ‘a new “enlightened
racism” in which white [Australians] love [Cathy Freeman], are happy to invite
[her] into their living rooms, but still look at the vast number of [Aborigines]
as mired in a set of problems of their own making’.77
Thus, rather than reflecting a shift in understandings of Australian race
relations, media coverage of Freeman may, as Farred78 argued about South
Africa’s appropriation of coloured cricketer Paul Adams, instead ‘orchestrate
amnesia’ about Australia’s racist past. Instead of highlighting the complex and
unavoidably messy issues around creating real change in Australia, media
coverage of Freeman may instead have presented Australians with fictions
of reality that they could easily stomach. Thus, it appears that embracing
Freeman may allow non-Indigenous Australians, like white Americans, ‘to feel
 Toni Bruce and Emma Wensing 495

good about themselves and about the society they are part of’.79 For example,
one letter writer claimed that Freeman’s win ‘made us feel better about our-
selves in a way that no one has before or perhaps ever will again’.80 Another
suggested that the ‘overwhelming, unqualified love and support’ Freeman
received was evidence that ‘we have opened our hearts to Aborigines, and we
are reconciled’.81
At the same time, the quoted views of some Indigenous Australian scholars
demonstrated an awareness of enlightened racism in the public and media
embrace of Freeman: Tracey Bunda pointed out that ‘Cathy provides them
with a comforting cultural icon that they can deal with’82 while Darren
Godwell suggested that ‘to some extent, it’s better for white than for black
people to have Cathy Freeman running around . . . It was the same with Lionel
Rose in the 1960s and Evonne Goolagong in the 1970s. They made it easy for
white people to say, well things can’t be too bad for Aborigines’.83 As Jhally
and Lewis84 found, the public embrace of a person of colour such as Freeman
is no guarantee of a more general racial tolerance, a point which was noted
in some of the coverage. One letter writer wrote, ‘I hope Cathy Freeman’s
gold medal-winning performance will cause more people in our community
to ask themselves why we are so proud and love her so much, yet we cannot
embrace her people’,85 while three newspapers quoted a Los Angeles Times
sports journalist who claimed that virtually every Australian he interviewed
‘spoke openly of both their love for the runner, and their uncertainty about
others of her race.’86

Conclusions

Australia has come a long way from the days when race relations were based
on the belief that Aborigines would ‘solve racial problems by dying out’.87
Little could those early Australians have imagined a young Aboriginal woman
being so strongly articulated to national identity. Although we should not
underestimate the symbolic promise of Freeman’s elevation to a hero status
that earlier would have been inconceivable for an Indigenous athlete,88 events
since 2000 suggest that the public embrace of Freeman promoted an attitude
of tolerance among whites that was only superficial. For example, despite being
seen as out-of-step with the nation on reconciliation, John Howard’s Liberal-
National Coalition was re-elected in 2001 and 2004 on the back of arguably
hard-line and xenophobic policies, and Howard himself maintained his popu-
larity as the preferred prime minister until 2007. The national body oversee-
ing Indigenous affairs, the Aboriginal and Torres Strait Islander Commission
(ATSIC), was disbanded in 2005, and rather than improving, relations between
Aboriginal communities and government bodies such as the police appeared
to further deteriorate. At the time of the so-called ‘Redfern riot’ in Sydney in
496 The Olympics and Indigenous Peoples: Australia

2004, Redfern Aboriginal elder Lyall Munro was quoted as saying relations with
police were at an all-time low.89 Munro’s on-the-ground assessment aligns with
what Turner90 described as ‘an alarming shift’ since 2001 towards a conserva-
tive, regressive, fearful and exclusivist nationalism that shunted aside national
discussion of cultural difference. Indeed, it was not until seven years after the
Olympic Games that the Australian public voted out the conservative govern-
ment that had dominated Australian political life since 1996.
However, it does appear that since 2007 Australia may have entered a
new era that, as Grant Farred argued about cricket in post-apartheid South
Africa, ‘negotiates with the old edifices of representation and organisational
dominance from a position of symbolic promise but structural disadvantage’.91
Under a new Labour government, Australia began to make symbolic gestures
that reflect the kind of future promoted in the Olympic coverage. In 2008,
one of then-Prime Minister Kevin Rudd’s first steps was to provide a long-
awaited formal government apology to Indigenous peoples. In 2009, the
Australian government took another important symbolic step by endorsing
the United Nations declaration on indigenous rights, again reversing many
decades of opposition.92 Yet symbolic promises do not necessarily translate
into strategies that alleviate structural disadvantage, although they must do
so if they are to be anything more than enlightened racism. Indeed, this gap
between symbolism and action was recognised by Aboriginal groups such as
the Darwin Aboriginal Rights Coalition which welcomed the government’s
endorsement of the UN declaration but pointed out that the ‘glaring hypocrisy
between this symbolic recognition of Indigenous rights whilst continuing with
explicitly racist policies . . . makes this historical occasion almost impossible to
celebrate’.93 Even during the 2010 general election, the newly formed National
Congress for Australia’s First Peoples criticised the almost complete absence of
Indigenous voices and issues.94
As a result, we conclude that the Olympic coverage had no immediate posi-
tive effect on race relations in Australia and suggest that, in the short term,
Freeman’s demonstrated ability to measure up to non-Indigenous standards,
along with her frequent statements that supported enlightened racist attitudes
by focusing on an individual approach to success, made it easier for non-
Indigenous Australians to feel better about themselves while continuing to
ignore the institutional barriers to equality. It is possible that the feel-good fac-
tor generated by media coverage of Freeman, in concert with the then-Howard
government’s policies and rhetoric, may have further undermined any push
for action towards real change. However, the depth and breadth of emotion
evident in media discourses around Freeman’s Olympic involvement, and the
widespread critique of non-inclusive discourses of national identity during the
Games, may have made a longer-term contribution to broadening the ways
Australia could imagine itself.
 Toni Bruce and Emma Wensing 497

Notes
1. Elsewhere we have discussed gendered media coverage of Freeman (Wensing and
Bruce, ‘Bending the Rules: Media Representations of Gender during an International
Sporting Event’) but our focus in this chapter is on racialised aspects.
2. Bruce and Hallinan, ‘Cathy Freeman: The Quest for Australian Identity’; Bruce
and Wensing, ‘“She’s Not One of Us”: Cathy Freeman and the Place of Aboriginal
People in Australian National Culture’; Elder et al., ‘Running Race: Reconciliation,
Nationalism and the Sydney 2000 Olympic Games’; Gardiner, ‘Running for
Country: Australian Print Media Representation of Indigenous Athletes in the 27th
Olympiad’; Rowe and Stevenson, ‘Sydney 2000: Sociality and Spatiality in Global
Media Events’; Wensing and Bruce, ‘Bending the Rules’.
3. Cochrane, ‘The New Heroes: Inventing a Heritage’.
4. Bennett, ‘Theories of Media, Theories of Society’; Hall, ‘The Narrative Construction
of Reality’; McRobbie, ‘The Es and the Anti-Es: New Questions for Feminism and
Cultural Studies’.
5. Jhally and Lewis, Enlightened Racism: The Cosby Show, Audiences and the Myth of the
American Dream.
6. For brevity we use the term ‘white Australians’ to include all those who are not of
Aboriginal or Torres Strait Islander (collectively known as Indigenous Australians)
heritage.
7. See also Elder et al., ‘Running Race,’ 181–200.
8. Jhally and Lewis, Enlightened Racism, 110.
9. Tatz and Adair, ‘Darkness and a Little Light: “Race” and Sport in Australia’.
10. Jhally and Lewis, Enlightened Racism, 135.
11. McKay, ‘Enlightened Racism and Celebrity Feminism in Contemporary Sports
Advertising Discourse’.
12. Bruce and Hallinan, ‘Cathy Freeman . . .’, 266.
13. McGregor, Cathy Freeman: A Journey Just Begun, 83.
14. Hall, ‘The Spectacle of the “Other”’, 226.
15. Farquharson and Marjoribanks, ‘Representing Australia: Race, the Media and
Cricket’.
16. See Booth, ‘Mandela and Amabokoboko: The Political and Linguistic Nationalisation
of South Africa?; Grundlingh, ‘From Redemption to Recidivism? Rugby and Change
in South Africa During the 1995 World Cup and Its Aftermath’; Steenveld and
Strelitz, ‘The 1995 Rugby World Cup and the Politics of Nation-building in South
Africa.
17. Farred, ‘The Nation in White: Cricket in Postapartheid South Africa’, 85–86.
18. Dunn et al., ‘Constructing Racism in Australia’; Department of Immigration and
Citizenship, ‘Fact Sheet 8 – Abolition of the “White Australia” Policy’; Farquharson
and Marjoribanks, ‘Representing Australia . . .’; Pedersen, and Walker, ‘Prejudice
against Australian Aborigines: Old-fashioned and Modern Forms’.
19. Broome, Aboriginal Australians: Black Responses to White Dominance 1788–2001;
Hemming, ‘Changing History: New Images of Aboriginal History’.
20. Human Rights and Equal Opportunity Commission, ‘“I Want Respect and Equality”:
A Summary of Consultations with Civil Society on Racism in Australia’ (2001), para 18.
21. These included the Bringing Them Home report by the Human Rights and Equal
Opportunity Commission [HREOC] in 1997 and the Mabo (1992) and Wik (1996)
legal decisions.
22. See Gardiner, ‘Running for Country’, 233–260.
498 The Olympics and Indigenous Peoples: Australia

23. Morgan, ‘Aboriginal Protest and the Sydney Olympic Games’, 30.
24. Hall, ‘The Spectacle of the Other’.
25. Phillips and Smith, ‘What is “Australian”? Knowledge and Attitudes among a Gallery
of Contemporary Australians’, 220.
26. Phillips and Smith, ibid., conducted focus groups with a variety of Queenslanders
(but with little representation from youth, Aborigines or ‘intellectuals’).
27. Dunn et al., ‘Consructing Racism in Australia’, 411; Bulbeck, ‘The “White Worrier”
in South Australia: Attitudes to Multiculturalism, Immigration and Reconciliation’;
Markus, Race: John Howard and the Remaking of Australia; Mellor, ‘Contemporary
Racism in Australia: The Experiences of Aborigines’; Pedersen et al., ‘Attitudes
towards Aboriginal Australians in City and Country Settings’; Simmons and
Lecouteur, ‘Modern Racism in the Media: Constructions of “the Possibility of
Change” in Accounts of Two Australian “Riots”’; Walker, ‘Attitudes to Minorities:
Survey Evidence of West Australians’ Attitudes to Aborigines, Asians, and Women’.
28. Broome, Aboriginal Australians, 237; Markus, Race: John Howard and the Remaking of
Australia.
29. Bruce and Hallinan, ‘Cathy Freeman’, 90–100; Given, ‘Red, Black, Gold to
Australia’.
30. Gardiner, ‘Running for Country’, 250.
31. Broome, Aboriginal Australians.
32. Phillips and Smith, ‘What is “Australian”?’, 220.
33. Adair and Vamplew, Sport in Australian History; Booth and Tatz, One-eyed: A View of
Australian Sport; Cashman, Paradise of Sport: The Rise of Organised Sport in Australia;
Kell, Good Sports: Australian Sport and the Myth of the Fair Go.
34. Elder et al., ‘Running Race’, 181.
35. Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism;
Rowe, Popular Cultures: Rock Music, Sport and the Politics of Pleasure; Turner, Making
It National: Nationalism and Australian Popular Culture; Turner, ‘Media Texts and
Messages’.
36. Rupert Murdoch’s News Limited reached New South Wales (The Daily Telegraph),
South Australia (The Advertiser), Tasmania (Mercury), Queensland (Courier-Mail)
and a national audience via The Australian and the Weekend Australian. His major
competitor, Fairfax Newspapers, reached the two most populous cities via the Sydney
Morning Herald and Sun Herald (New South Wales) and The Age (Victoria). The remain-
ing papers were the Rural Press-owned Canberra Times (Australian Capital Territory)
and the West Australian (Western Australia) owned by West Australian Newspapers.
This meant only small variations in newspapers, such as in the headline or open-
ing sentence or in stories about ‘local’ athletes who did not perform well enough to
generate national coverage.
37. McKee, ‘A Beginner’s Guide to Textual Analysis’; Turner, ‘Media Texts and
Messages’.
38. Turner, ‘Media Texts and Messages’, 317.
39. Hartley and McKee, The Indigenous Public Sphere: The Reporting and Reception of
Indigenous Issues in the Australian Media 1994–1997, 6.
40. Eggerking and Plater, Signposts: A Guide to Reporting Aboriginal, Torres Strait Islander
and Ethnic Affairs, 21; Meadows, ‘The Hanson Phenomenon: The Role of the Media’;
Meadows and Morris, ‘Into the New Millennium: The Role of Indigenous Media in
Australia’.
41. Hartley and McKee, The Indigenous Public Sphere.
42. Smith, ‘Touched by the Force that is Freeman’.
 Toni Bruce and Emma Wensing 499

43. Cronin, ‘Freemania Ensures 500,000-Stamp Sellout, Reprint’; see also Rowe and
Stevenson, ‘Sydney 2000’.
44. See also Gardiner, ‘Running for Country’.
45. Devine, ‘Politics Swamped by Wave of Pride’.
46. Turner, ‘Media Texts and Messages’.
47. Courier-Mail, ‘Superfund Wrongdoing’.
48. Numerous studies have identified the strength of the articulation of Freeman and
Aboriginal culture to national identity during the Games, for example: Bruce and
Hallinan, ‘Cathy Freeman’; Bruce and Wensing, “She’s Not One of Us”; Elder et al.,
‘Running Race’; Gardiner, ‘Running for Country’; Godwell, ‘The Olympic Branding
of Aborigines: The 2000 Olympic Games and Australia’s Indigenous; Hargreaves,
Heroines of Sport: The Politics of Difference and Identity; Knight et al., ‘The Weight of
Expectation: Cathy Freeman, Legacy, Reconciliation and the Sydney Olympics –
A Canadian Perspective’; Meekison, ‘Whose Ceremony Is It Anyway? Indigenous
and Olympic Interests in the Festival of Dreaming’; Morgan, ‘Aboriginal Protest and
the Sydney Olympic Games’; Nielson, ‘Bodies of Protest: Performing Citizenship
at the 2000 Olympic; Rigney, ‘Racialising Struggle: Indigenous Australians and
the Sydney 2000 Olympics’; Rigney, ‘Sport, Indigenous Australians and Invader
Dreaming: A Critique’; Rowe and Stevenson, ‘Sydney 2000’; Wensing and Bruce,
‘Bending the Rules’.
49. Bruce and Wensing, “She’s Not One of Us”.
50. Coorey, ‘World Watches as Our Golden Girl Laps Up Win’.
51. Daily Telegraph, ‘Exhilarating Masterpiece of Athletics’.
52. Price, ‘One Small Lap for the Scribblers’.
53. Reed, ‘The Magic of Memories’.
54. Wilson, ‘Cathy Freeman, Star of the Greatest Show on Earth’.
55. Coorey, ‘Our Cathy’s Dream Is Realised’.
56. Gardiner, ‘Running for Country’.
57. Courier-Mail, ‘Cathy and All that Glitters’.
58. Barrass, ‘Cathy Queen of Hearts’.
59. Duffy, ‘He’s the Invisible Man with a Plan’.
60. Steketee, ‘No Need to be Hazy after All These Years’.
61. Australian Associated Press [AAP], ‘Olympic Quotes of the Day’.
62. Barrass, ‘Cathy Queen of Hearts,’ xii.
63. This contestation took place primarily through letters to the editor and is explored
in depth in Bruce and Wensing, “She’s Not One of Us”.
64. Advertiser, ‘One Nation Never to be Forgotten’, italics added.
65. Daily Telegraph, ‘Cathy’s Dash for Harmony’.
66. Ibid.
67. Daily Telegraph, ‘Bathed in a Glow of Hope’.
68. Age, ‘Magnificent Freeman Unites the Nation’.
69. Devine, ‘Carrying a Nation to Gold’.
70. West Australian, ‘Freeman and the Power of One’.
71. Canberra Times, ‘Opportunity in Unifying Celebrations’.
72. McKay, ‘“Just Do It”: “Enlightened Racism” and the Gendered Political Economy of
Corporate Sports Slogans’, 30.
73. Ibid., 27–39.
74. Daily Telegraph, ‘Cathy’s Dash for Harmony’, 38.
75. Sydney Morning Herald, ‘Flag may be Running Out of Puff as a Crowd Pleaser’.
76. Evans, ‘Freeman Admits to a Bout of Self-doubt’.
500 The Olympics and Indigenous Peoples: Australia

77. Lewis and Jhally, ‘The Politics of Cultural Studies: Racism, Hegemony, and
Resistance’, 116.
78. Farred, ‘Nation in White’, 77.
79. Jhally and Lewis, Enlightened Racism, 135.
80. Age, ‘Magnificent Freeman’.
81. Bolt, ‘Let’s Hang onto the Pride and Optimism that Burst out During the Games’,
italics added.
82. Cited in Bruce, ‘Cathy Freeman Symbolises the Spirit of the Sydney Olympic
Games’.
83. Cited in Overington, ‘Cathy the Great’; see also Godwell, ‘Olympic Branding’;
Rigney, ‘Racialising Struggle’.
84. Jhally and Lewis, Enlightened Racism.
85. Daily Telegraph, ‘Let Us Embrace Her People’.
86. Plaschke, ‘While Most Australians Get Behind Cathy Freeman, They Keep Distance
From Most Aborigines’.
87. Sargent, The New Sociology for Australians, 200.
88. Gardiner, ‘Running for Country’, 233–260.
89. ABC News Online, ‘Fifty Police Injured in Redfern Riot’.
90. Turner, ‘After Hybridity: Muslim-Australians and the Imagined Community’, 413.
91. Farred, ‘Nation in White’, 85.
92. Sullivan, ‘Australia Backs UN Indigenous Rights Declaration’.
93. Darwin Aboriginal Rights Coalition, ‘Australia Supports the UN Declaration of
Indigenous Rights: Aboriginal People want Action as Well as Words’; see also
Sullivan, ‘Australia Backs UN Indigenous Rights Declaration’.
94. Radio New Zealand News, ‘New Group Seeks Aboriginal Seats in Parliament’.

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Events’, in A. Tomlinson and C. Young (eds), National Identity and Global Sports Events
(Albany: SUNY Press), 197–214.
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Sargent, M. (1994) The New Sociology for Australians, 3rd edition (Melbourne: Longman
Australia).
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of “the Possibility of Change” in Accounts of Two Australian “Riots”’, Discourse and
Society, 19.5, 667–687.
Smith, P. (2000) ‘Touched by the Force that Is Freeman’, The Australian, 26 September.
Steenveld, L. and L. Strelitz (1998) ‘The 1995 Rugby World Cup and the Politics of
Nation-building in South Africa’, Media, Culture & Society, 20.4, 609–629.
Steketee, M. (2000) ‘No Need to be Hazy after All These Years’, The Australian,
22 September.
Sullivan, R. (2009) ‘Australia Backs UN Indigenous Rights Declaration’, Yahoo News,
3 April, at: http://news.yahoo.com (accessed 8 April 2009).
Sydney Morning Herald (2000) ‘Flag may be Running out of Puff as a Crowd Pleaser’, letter
to the editor, 29 September, 11.
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Australian Aboriginal Studies, 2, 1–14.
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(St Leonards: Allen & Unwin).
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The Media in Australia: Industries, Texts, Audiences, 2nd Edition (St Leonards: Allen &
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31
The Olympics: East London’s Renewal
and Legacy
Gavin Poynter

Introduction

The Olympics has indeed left Beijing with a rich material and spiritual
legacy. The most visible of the material legacy are the spectacular sports
venues, but perhaps equally, if not more, important are the sports-related
industries and talents. The Games have also left us with ‘five spirits’: patri-
otism, professionalism, devotion, innovation and teamwork, as well as
the spirit of sport and volunteer work. The Olympics has played a positive
role in establishing a democratic, open, civilized and prosperous image of
China . . . Beijing has benefited greatly from the Games, which has helped
improve its infrastructure and urban eco-system, and upgrade its expertise
in modern management. This lasting legacy will continue to play an impor-
tant role in propelling the city’s sustainable development.
Jiang Xiaoyu, ‘Beijing Embodies Power, Spirit of Games’

Acting as a developmental engine, which legitimated large scale urban

transformations, the Olympics have accelerated the profound inequalities
that have come to epitomise China’s transition to capitalism within an auto-
cratic political system . . . Beijing’s spectacular reconstruction served as an
instrument of pacification to divert popular attention from social problems
and contradictions and to dwarf opposition to large scale redevelopment.
The social dislocation and loss of community ties that have resulted from
the displacement of the underprivileged and their dispersal in the far
suburbs have dwarfed the organisational power of the masses’.
Broudehoux, ‘Spectacular Beijing: The Conspicuous
Construction of an Olympic Metropolis’

In recording the achievements of the Beijing Olympic and Paralympic Games,

Jiang Xiaoyu, Executive Vice President of the Beijing Olympic Organising

505
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
506 The Olympics: East London’s Renewal and Legacy

Committee, presented a typically effusive ‘official’ view of the legacy. The 2008
Games represented a compelling example of the world’s leading sporting event
as a ‘significant mode of production and consumption’1 that signified China’s
emergence on the world stage and catalysed urban development on a huge
scale. By contrast, Anne Marie Broudehoux presents a rather different insight
into the legacy of the games, recording how the vast reconstruction of Beijing
led to extensive displacement and dislocation experienced especially by the
city’s poor and under-privileged population in the period immediately prior to
the Games taking place.
These starkly contrasting perspectives are particularly exemplified in the case
of Beijing but they are not unusual illustrations of the differences that arise
in the evaluation of legacy. The extensive literature evaluating the impact of
the Games is derived from diverse sources – official documents, consultancy
reports, activist and academic sources – and many reflect the interests and
values of the agencies that have commissioned them.2 Of the recent summer
games, Barcelona (1992) is often regarded as a model of success, achieving
major infrastructure development, a transformed waterfront district and a
successful re-zoning of the city;3 though this has occurred at a real cost in
terms of rising house prices, the displacement of poorer communities and a
resultant rise in overcrowded and inadequate housing provision in some parts
of the city. Such outcomes have, in turn, caused some to question the ‘success
story’ that is associated with the Barcelona ‘model’ of urban regeneration.4
Sydney (2000) held a successful Games only to experience a hiatus following
the event during which the Olympic park site became a ‘white elephant’, to
be subsequently revived by a Sydney Olympic Park Authority (SOPA) adopting
a public/private investment plan that eventually secured a future for the Park
based upon the rather familiar mix of retail, housing, sporting, community and
office development.5 In the case of Atlanta (1996), the evidence points to the
infrastructure developments associated with the games exacerbating existing
social inequalities rather than reducing them,6,7 while Athens (2004) achieved
improvements to infrastructure at the cost of a considerable rise in public debt
and without any longer-term employment benefits emerging for the city or
regional economy.8
In evaluating legacies, official documents, it seems, seek to justify huge
public investment, with the host city reporting tangible and intangible bene-
fits arising from the urban developments that take place alongside the global
and regional recognition achieved by the re-imagining or re-branding of the
city. That major sporting events, and in particular the Olympic Games, have
assumed such significance is indicative of the manner in which sport has
become an internationalised and marketised business, through which govern-
ments and host cities seek to secure a mix of private and public investment
to accelerate urban development while using the successful bid to rally public
 Gavin Poynter 507

support and legitimate their interventions. Hosting the spectacle may enable a
city or city/regional economy to enhance its international status and competi-
tiveness, generate investment in iconic new developments and propel services-
driven economic growth.
The results of this approach to urban development tends to ensure, according
to many critics, that planning processes are accelerated, local populations
passively experience rather than directly engage with change, land values rise,
housing costs increase and areas in which the major developments take place are
gentrified.9 This mode of urban development may secure entrepreneurial advan-
tage and reputational gain for a city and nation’s political and commercial elites
but it also tends to reinforce social divisions and increase social inequality within
the city and its surrounding regions. For example, according to an influential
and extensive report published in 2007, the Olympic Games led to the displace-
ment of more than two million people in the previous 20 years, affecting in
particular, poorer ethnic minority communities in several host cities.10
But could London 2012 be different? Is it possible to harness ‘the spectacle’
to an agenda that addresses urban deprivation and seeks to improve the living
conditions of the existing or resident population rather than result in the
further marginalisation of its poorer communities? From its inception, the
London bid to host the 2012 Olympic and Paralympic Games was focused
upon achieving a legacy that would significantly improve the physical and
social conditions of the most deprived area of London. The social legacy
was an integral component of London’s appeal to the International Olympic
Committee (IOC) and in the pre-games phase central, city-wide and local
government programs and policies have emphasised the commitment to secur-
ing the social transformation of the east side of the city.11
This chapter provides a preliminary assessment of London’s capacity to
utilise the games to achieve a trajectory of urban renewal that aspires to bene-
fit East London. It divides into three parts. The first discusses the rise of the
legacy discourse in Olympic affairs. The second provides some insights into
the distinctive characteristics of London’s commitment to achieving a lasting
social legacy from hosting the Games. The final section assesses the pressures
placed upon London 2012 arising from the domestic and global recession and
the unravelling of the consumption-driven model of economic development
implicit to the large-scale transformations sought by hosting a mega-event. The
conclusion draws attention to the hazards of associating Olympism and the
complex process of city-building with the rhetoric of legacy.

The Olympics and legacy

In November 2002, an International Olympic Committee Symposium exam-

ined the concept of legacy. Participants observed the difficulties in defining the
508 The Olympics: East London’s Renewal and Legacy

word but agreed upon its importance in informing bids, organising the event
and ensuring that long term benefits accrue to the communities that host the
games. Legacy was ‘fundamental in understanding the mission of Olympism in
society’.12 The dimensions of legacy were tangible – infrastructure, urban plan-
ning architecture, city marketing, economic and tourism development – and
intangible – generating ideas, memories, cultural values, education, experience
and know-how. The estimation of these legacies must take place over time and
provide the data for the host city’s evaluation of the impact of the games (the
Olympic Games Impact (OGI) study). The symposium confirmed that legacy
had become an important concept in the creation of city bids, in their plan-
ning and organisation and in securing public support in the cities and nations
that seek to host the games.13
Within the IOC and its institutions, legacy may be understood as shorthand
for the complex ways in which the Olympic movement has developed its
broad cultural and social vision of Olympism to incorporate new dimensions.
As Chappelet, for example, has argued, environmental protection arose as an
important issue for organisers of the Olympic Games in the 1970s and, by the
1990s, these concerns were translated into guiding principles for local organi-
sing committees, informing host city approaches to securing the provision of
‘green’ Games.14 In this way, the IOC was responding, often slowly, to local issues
and protests arising from hosting the games. Over a similar period, the rising
costs associated with hosting the event also propelled the IOC toward more
stringent requirements for host cities to demonstrate their financial capacity
to organise the Games and to use the associated infrastructure developments to
provide more lasting benefits for host city communities. This broader dimen-
sion came to prominence for the IOC as it sought to ensure that host cities
adopted approaches to financing the Games that secured public investment and
support and were not solely or mainly dependent upon private finance driven
by primarily commercial aims, as in the case of Atlanta 1996.15 In attaching the
values of ‘Olympism’ to contemporary concerns, such as the environment and
sustainable development, and by seeking to refine approaches to the financing
of the Games, the IOC’s adoption of the legacy discourse may be interpreted
as a way of updating Olympism and protecting its underlying values from the
competitive and commercial pressures that arise between cities and nations
that seek to host the Games.
The IOC’s adoption of the discourse of legacy has found resonance with the
social and political elites that have organised and prepared host cities’ bids
over recent years, whether these are Winter or Summer Games. As MacAloon
has recorded, Vancouver adopted the slogan ‘Legacies Now’ for its 2010 Winter
Olympic Games16 and created a public/private partnership with commercial
sponsors to support the development of community-based programs designed
to be ‘socially sustainable’17 and all the 2016 candidate cities embraced the
 Gavin Poynter 509

term with Brazil, the eventual winner, adopting the concept as a component
of its planning processes, as Rio 2016 Committee President, Carlos Nuzman,
announced in April 2010:

We have periodic meetings with the IOC, but the visits of the Coordinating
Commission are a landmark to show the evolution of the work. We are
building the organization of the Games and the lessons in planning are
among the best legacy the event will leave behind.18

That legacy has so infused the discourse of candidate and host cities cannot be
attributed to the influence of the IOC alone; its importance extends beyond
the rhetoric of the bid phase. It chimes well with the aspirations of the host
city organising elites for several reasons. First, applicant and host cities are
required to demonstrate public support for hosting the Games; affirming the
positive social impacts arising from investment in the Games and its attendant
infrastructure is an important component in securing and sustaining such
support. Second, the elaboration of legacy aims by the network of stakeholders
engaged in bidding and organising the event provokes, in turn, responses from
local, state, voluntary and other interest groups who seek to secure their share
of the projected legacy gains – in this sense the concept helps structure public
debate and, arguably, diffuses or reduces the likelihood of outright opposition
to hosting the Games. Finally, the legacy discourse, aligned with the values of
Olympism, facilitates important social policy or ‘soft’ interventions that are
consistent with the re-imagining and re-structuring of the city itself, promoting
potentially a different kind of (engineered) social order to that which previ-
ously prevailed.19
In these and other ways, the legacy discourse has become an important
source of legitimation for the ‘spectacle’ and for the applicant and host city
elites to conceive urban renewal and social policy interventions on a large
scale. The Olympics have a particular resonance in this context. Unlike other
global sporting events, the Games convey a set of cultural and historical
values that give the Olympic ‘brand’ a uniqueness which is expressed and
embodied in the Olympic Charter. The alignment of the legacy discourse with
these brand values, indeed the inculcation of the latter within the meaning
of the former, lends a certain authenticity to the project of urban renewal and
development when it is associated with hosting the Games.20 It also carries
with it new dangers. The values of Olympism and the Olympic movement
may be severely tarnished by their association with the complex process of
city-building in contexts where financial imperatives clash with declared
social objectives and the renewal project is itself framed by a heady mix of
managerial discourse and therapeutic, social rationales, as the ‘London 2012’
case reveals.21
510 The Olympics: East London’s Renewal and Legacy

East London and the Legacy Games

The centre of Olympics-led regeneration is the five East London Olympic

boroughs of Newham, Tower Hamlets, Hackney, Waltham Forest and Greenwich.
They have rising populations and relatively high levels of social depriva-
tion. Since the 19th century East London has provided the location for
manufacturing industries and the city’s docklands. It housed the city’s working
classes and remained, throughout the 20th century, relatively poor compared
to the rich west of London. When the docks closed in the 1970s and 1980s,
the area suffered major job losses in traditional manufacturing and processing
industries from which many parts have not recovered. By the beginning of the
21st century, the extensive regeneration of London’s Docklands and improve-
ments in infrastructure had created a sub-region that is socially polarised,
containing pockets of affluence within an area that has a high concentration
of relative poverty. The hosting of the Olympic and Paralympic Games in 2012
is aimed at catalysing a process of extensive social and economic renewal that
addresses these underlying social and economic issues.
Major policy interventions to regenerate London Docklands and the wider
Thames Gateway – a region incorporating the Thames Estuary and major parts
of Kent and Essex to the east of London – have been ongoing since 1981, firstly
through the London Docklands Development Corporation (LDDC), and latterly
through the Thames Gateway program. Whilst progress has been made in terms
of infrastructure, the five Olympic host boroughs lag behind the rest of London
and the UK according to the government’s Index of Multiple Deprivation (IMD).
IMD scores reflect a composite index of deprivation covering seven main topic
areas – income, employment, health, education and skills, housing, crime and
living environment. Each of these topics or ‘domains’ contains sub-components;
the domains are weighted by their importance in contributing to deprivation
with income, employment and health rated the highest. Hackney, Newham and
Tower Hamlets have remained in the list of the most deprived English boroughs
since the IMD was first published in 2004. The index is relational; the average
scores are ranked by English local authorities of which there are 354. The lower
the ranking, the higher is the level of multiple deprivation. Waltham Forest and
Greenwich stand jointly at 24th in the ranking of the most deprived boroughs
(Table 31.1).
The employment rate (63.8 per cent) in the Olympic boroughs is much
lower than the rest of London (70.1 per cent) and nationally (74.5 per cent).
The worklessness problem has many facets, including the low skills base of
local population groups and higher than London and national levels of benefit
dependency – 14 per cent for London/nationally and 19–20 per cent across the
five Olympic boroughs (Table 31.2).
Four of the five Olympic boroughs experience housing problems in acute
form. Waltham Forest’s housing profile is closest to that for the rest of London
 Gavin Poynter 511

Table 31.1 Index of Multiple Deprivation (2007) for five host boroughs

Local authority Average score Rank of average score

(2004 ranking in brackets)

Greenwich 33.94 24 (23)

Hackney 46.10 2 (1)
Newham 42.95 6 (6)
Tower Hamlets 44.64 3 (2)
Waltham Forest 33.94 24 (23)

Source: www.communities.gov.uk/documents/communities/pdf/576659.pdf.

Table 31.2 Five Olympic Boroughs: employment and unemployment rates (2009)

Greenwich Hackney Newham Tower Waltham Host- London

Hamlets Forest borough
average

Employment 66.9 67.2 58.1 61.8 65.7 63.8 70.1

rate
Unemploy- 6.7 8.6 9.9 11.9 7.8 9.0 6.9
ment

Source: Government Office for London, ONS 2008–9.

and for England. Hackney and Newham have a higher proportion of local
authority housing stock than the rest of London and England and Tower
Hamlets and Hackney have a higher percentage of Registered Social Landlords
(RSLs) compared to the rest of the capital and England. Excepting Waltham
Forest, the Olympic boroughs have a significantly smaller percentage of
dwellings that are owner-occupied or privately rented compared to the rest of
London and the average for England. Overcrowding in the five host boroughs
varies between 18 and 38 per cent of households, compared to a London
average of 7 per cent, with three boroughs having the highest levels of over-
crowding nationally.22
The overall growth in population since 1988 has been supported by the
expansion in relative and absolute terms of the ethnic minority population.
Ethnic minority groups grew by 51 per cent in the period between the 1991
and 2001 census. In the five Olympic boroughs, this population growth has
been underpinned by the expansion in numbers of young people, especially
from Asian and Black British backgrounds. Each of the five Olympic boroughs
has distinct characteristics in relation to their ethnic minority populations. For
example, Tower Hamlets and Newham have relatively higher proportions of
Asian or Asian British citizens (33–34 per cent compared to 13.3 per cent for
London as a whole) and Hackney has a relatively high proportion of Black
British residents (20.9 per cent compared to 10.6 for London as a whole).
512 The Olympics: East London’s Renewal and Legacy

In summary, East London is an area that has encompassed significant change

in industrial structure over recent years. London, as a city, is moving east;
the east side of the city is the most dynamic site of urban regeneration and
development in the UK. In linking the Games to the social transformation of
East London, the government and the key stakeholders in ‘London 2012’ have
embarked upon a highly ambitious interpretation of the Games’ contribution
to the social legacy to be achieved by hosting the world’s most prestigious
sporting event.

The legacy policy framework

The policy focus is the Legacy Framework Masterplan (LMF), a set of five
central government aspirations/promises:23

• Make the UK a world-leading sporting nation;

• Transform the heart of East London;
• Inspire a generation of young people;
• Make the Olympic park a blueprint for sustainable living;
• Demonstrate the UK is a creative, inclusive place to live, visit and do
business.

The Strategic Regeneration Framework (SRF) was published in November 2009,

with the purpose of linking the LMF and its program of infrastructure develop-
ment to the implementation of a socio-economic program for the emerging
sub-region of East London. The main theme of the SRF is the convergence in
life opportunities of the communities of East London with those experienced
by London as a whole: ‘Within twenty years the communities that host the
2012 games will have the same socio-economic chances as their neighbours
across London.’24
The SRF relates convergence to several key themes – creating a coherent and
high quality city within a world city region, improving educational attainment,
skills and raising aspirations, reducing worklessness, benefit dependency and
child poverty, building homes for all, improving health and well-being, reducing
serious crime rates and anti-social behaviour, and maximising the sports legacy of
London 2012 and increasing participation in sport and physical activity. Each of
these themes has targets and timelines attached, with the emphasis being upon
the development of governance structures at sub-regional level that enhance the
efficiency and effectiveness by which resources are utilised to deliver public
interventions that achieve social change over a 20-year period.
In brief, the SRF aligns public investment in infrastructure development with
social policies aimed at the transformation of the lives of existing residential
communities; acknowledging that such transformation has to be instituted
 Gavin Poynter 513

by public interventions rather than being primarily left to the spontaneous

movements of markets or the inclinations of individuals whose well-being is at
risk arising from their living conditions and their lifestyles. By late 2009, the
SRF was the subject of debate amongst the London 2012 stakeholder network
which by that time included the Olympic Park Legacy Company (OPLC).
The OPLC was established in June 2009 as a public sector, not-for-profit
organisation with the responsibility for:

. . . delivering one of the most important Olympic legacy promises made in

the original London 2012 bid. This key pledge concerns . . . the long-term
planning, development, management and maintenance of the Olympic
Park and its facilities after the London 2012 Games. It is our task to trans-
form and integrate one of the most challenged areas in the UK into world-
class, sustainable and thriving neighbourhoods.25

That the OPLC was created three years prior to the Games is illustrative of
the extent to which the legacy narrative has come to dominate London’s
approach. State-led institutions form a complex governance network involv-
ing the British Olympic Association (BOA), central government departments
(the Government Olympic Executive, the Department of Culture, Media and
Sport and the Department of Communities and Local Government), city-wide
institutions, represented by the Mayor’s office and London Assembly, and the
five East London Olympic boroughs. These actors have instituted, and collabo-
ratively subscribe to, the infrastructural programs and social policies associated
with achieving the legacy agenda. London 2012 has broadened and institu-
tionalised the concept of legacy; using its magical imputation of ‘good’26 to
deflect early criticisms, especially those associated with the escalating costs of
the Games, but the appropriation of this ‘good’ for the renewal of East London
may not be quite what it seems.
In linking the mega-event to broader social, political and economic aspira-
tions for city-building, the paradoxical process of reconciling the Olympic
brand, the imagery inherent in the expression of Olympic ideals, with the
highly commercialised sponsorship model by which the IOC and host cities
secure the leverage to finance the event and the institutions it spawns, is
greatly deepened. The ambiguous nature of this relationship – between the
declared social values of Olympism and the commercially driven exchange
values of the mega-event as a spectacular affirmation of the host as a ‘global
city’ – means that the policies designed to engineer social ‘good’ may, in prac-
tice, achieve the opposite. The transformative legacy may not be achieved,
perhaps, for two main reasons. First, because of the fundamental problem of
reconciling ‘hard’ commercial and financial imperatives with the major invest-
ments required to meet social needs such as affordable housing and long-term
514 The Olympics: East London’s Renewal and Legacy

growth in employment. The structural determinations of the former lend the

transformative aspirations of the latter an air of unreality; particularly given
the deep economic problems the UK faces in the wake of domestic and interna-
tional recession. Second, in the absence of significant public and private invest-
ment in the areas that really reduce social inequalities, the ‘soft’ social policies
designed to engender behavioural change or ‘healthier lifestyles’ within the
resident communities of East London are likely to fail. A brief review of legacy
plans for the Olympic Park and the housing plans for the sub-region illustrate
this ‘unreality’.
The financial pressures upon London 2012 are illustrated by the develop-
ment of the iconic Olympic Park venue. From the outset, the technically
polished London bid was deeply flawed in its estimation of the costs of the
Games, particularly the costs of developing the Olympic Park.27 London 2012
stakeholder attempts to secure private investment to support the construc-
tion of the housing accommodation for the athletes and other infrastructure
developments failed and plans to develop social housing provision within
the Olympic Park have been significantly scaled back to the extent that ‘the
net gain in terms of affordable housing as a result of the London 2012 bid is
negligible’.28 By early 2010, further financial uncertainties existed over the
transition in responsibilities for the post-Games period (from the London
Development Agency [LDA] and Olympic Development Agency [ODA] to
the Olympic Park Legacy Company [OPLC]) as to the arrangements for the
transfer of freehold land from the LDA to the OPLC and where responsibility
lies for the repayment of debts incurred by the LDA. OPLC funding will
be underwritten via the transfer of LDA funds to meet all overhead costs
and through the transfer of program budgets where these have become the
OPLC’s responsibility. These transfers will underwrite OPLC corporate costs
for the period 2010–13 and will also include a grant from the Department
of Communities and Local Government (CLG) of £800,000 for 2009–10.
These arrangements may just about cover OPLC costs until 2013 but funding
sources beyond that date, for the period 2013–19, have not been identified.
It is precisely during this period that the OPLC will be performing the key
role in the development of the Olympic Park and overseeing its integration
into the life of the city.29
While the OPLC is working closely with the Mayor’s office and the five
Olympic host boroughs and is committed to integrating its plans within the
Strategic Regeneration Framework (SRF) of the five Olympic boroughs, the con-
straints imposed upon public spending by the condition of the wider economy
and the funding uncertainties facing the OPLC beyond 2013 create a severe
risk that the Park and the development of its surrounding area will rely heavily
upon securing private investment that may privilege commercial gain. This is
likely to result in the housing developments within the vicinity of the Olympic
 Gavin Poynter 515

Park serving the purpose of gentrification, as the OPLC candidly acknowledges

in a reference to ‘highly mobile consumers’ in its draft Delivery Plan:

transformation, use and activity within the Park . . . will all require early
investment. Put simply, very mobile consumers must be convinced that the
decision to live in East London can be made with certainty and that there
is a coherent vision to buy into. If this is framed in the right way, then
the premium over existing values in the sub-region can be delivered.
Early adopters, paying a slight premium, provide encouragement and peer
endorsement to others to buy into an area at a later stage.30

In the sub-regional context, whilst Stratford City, a private-sector retail,

housing and commercial development initiative adjacent and integral to the
Olympic Park development, constructed by Westfield, a global retail property
development group, is perceived as one of four major instruments of economic
growth and development across the Thames Gateway (the others are Canary
Wharf, London Gateway Tilbury, a major shipping infrastructure development,
and Ebbsfleet, a Channel rail link station and location for housing growth),
the specific contributions of each and how these will address local depriva-
tion issues across the whole Gateway is unclear in the policy statements of the
London 2012 stakeholders. Indeed, the capacity for these projects to generate
significant improvements in the regional skills base, wage levels and employ-
ment rates (particularly given that the retail sector mostly generates unskilled,
low-paid and flexible forms of employment) has perhaps diminished in the
wake of the credit crunch, dampened consumer demand and the onset of
austerity measures aimed at dealing with the aftermath of the recession. None
of these issues have been addressed directly in the policy documents published
since the onset of the recession.
The development of housing policy in the United Kingdom involves cen-
tral, city-wide and local government agencies, as well as other enterprises
and organisations such as housing associations and private developers. In the
wake of the recession, housing development by the private sector has slowed
dramatically, leaving the public sector as the main investor in new housing,
particularly affordable housing. In 2009 the Homes and Communities Agency
(HCA) was established by central government to oversee housing development
and regeneration. In London, the HCA regional board is chaired by the Mayor
of London and has responsibility for £5 billion of investment in housing
between 2008 and 2011. The Mayor and London boroughs have committed to
the construction of 40,000 affordable homes across London over this period
(far fewer than the estimated new house build of 32,000 units per annum
of which 18,000 should be affordable homes that would be required to meet
London’s real housing needs, according to a report published by the Greater
516 The Olympics: East London’s Renewal and Legacy

London Assembly in 2008.31 The focus of affordable housing development

in the Mayor’s proposals requires significant contributions from the Olympic
boroughs, four of which had agreed affordable housing targets by June 2009.
By that date, 21 London boroughs (out of 33) had agreed targets for the con-
struction of 23,154 affordable homes; of these 9,240 (40 per cent of the agreed
target number) are to be located in four of the Olympic boroughs.
By early spring 2010, the fifth borough, Newham, had not agreed an afford-
able housing target. The Mayor of Newham, Sir Robin Wales, argued that the
focus of affordable housing development in the East of London and in par-
ticular in the Olympic boroughs would result in the continued inward move-
ment and concentration of poorer families in social housing developments in
those boroughs. The consequence was likely to be the reinforcement of social
divisions across the city with some boroughs, typically to the west of the city,
retaining their relatively wealthy status while boroughs to the east would con-
tinue to be the location for poorer sections of the city’s population. Newham’s
goal was convergence with the rest of London in relation to the quality of hous-
ing stock, family income and other social indicators, rather than continued
acceptance of the historical divergence in the trajectories of the ‘poor’ east
compared to the ‘rich’ west. According to the borough, to facilitate conver-
gence, existing communities would have to achieve greater housing mobility
within the borough, via the provision of improved housing choice (size and
value) as well as through the increase in quality of housing stock in the rented,
privately owned and social housing sectors. To achieve this would require a
house-building program that greatly exceeds that planned in the Olympic Park,
in the wider borough of Newham and that which is proposed by the Mayor
of London over the next few years. It seems, therefore, that ‘progress’ toward
convergence in the legacy phase is likely to be through the inward movement
of higher income groups attracted by the Olympic Park and other infrastruc-
tural improvements; an outcome that would fulfil the opposite of the legacy
promises made on behalf of resident communities.

Conclusion

In summary, OPLC plans designed to secure ‘premiums over existing values’ in

the vicinity of Olympic developments, the reduction in proposed new housing
units since the bid phase (and in the wake of the 2008–2009 recession) and the
currently reduced ambitions for social housing development in Newham are
illustrative of the impediments to achieving a transformative social legacy from
the 2012 Games. The pressures to reduce public investment and cut overall
levels of public debt in the UK over future years may well ensure, in the period
2010–2019, that the legacy discourse retains an air of unreality. Indeed, the
state-led ‘network’ model of 2012 governance may facilitate a development
 Gavin Poynter 517

momentum that is more akin to the outcomes associated with the commercial
model that underpinned development in Atlanta (1996) and Canary Wharf
in London Docklands.32 Such a possible outcome is likely to reinforce social
inequalities rather than reduce them.
The legacy of London 2012 may achieve ‘unintended outcomes’ as the finan-
cial and commercial pressures arising from associating the event with urban
renewal at a time of national economic recession comes to the fore. As this
process unfolds it is likely to exacerbate rather than modify existing patterns
of social inequality. In so doing, the contradictions arising from the appropria-
tion of Olympic values by the legacy discourse to legitimise large-scale urban
renewal within host cities will intensify. At the least, the experience of ‘London
2012’ should ensure that the Olympic legacy discourse is not accepted in wider
society as a simple and unambiguous expression of ‘good’; such criticality is
an essential part of the continuing analysis of the social implications for East
London of hosting the 2012 Games.

Notes
1. Rustin, ‘Sport, Spectacle and Society: Understanding the Olympics’.
2. London East Research Institute, ‘A Lasting Legacy?’.
3. Brunett, ‘The Economy of the Barcelona Games’.
4. Blanco, ‘Does a “Barcelona Model” Really Exist? Periods, Territories and Actors in the
Process of Urban Transformation’.
5. Cashman, ‘The Sydney Olympic Park Model: Its Evolution and Realisation’.
6. Andranovich et al., ‘Olympic Cities: Lessons Learned from Mega-event Politics’.
7. Poynter and Roberts, ‘Atlanta 1996: The Centennial Games’.
8. Panagiotpoulou, ‘The 28th Olympic Games in Athens 2004’.
9. Marshall, ‘Transforming Barcelona’; Lenskyj, Inside the Olympic Industry; Andranovich
et al., Olympic Dreams: The Impact of Mega-Events on Local Politics.
10. Centre on Housing Rights and Evictions (COHRE), Fair Play for Mega Events, Olympic
Games and Housing Rights.
11. Department of Culture Media and Sport (DCMS), ‘Before, During and after the
Games – Making the Most of the London 2012 Games’.
12. International Olympic Committee (IOC), ‘The Legacy of the Olympic Games:
1984–2000’.
13. Ibid.
14. Chappelet, ‘Olympic Environmental Concerns as a Legacy of the Winter Games’.
15. Rutheiser, Imagineering Atlanta; Poynter and Roberts, ‘Atlanta 1996: The Centennial
Games’.
16. MacAloon, ‘“Legacy” as Managerial/Magical Discourse in Contemporary Olympic
Affairs’.
17. 2010LegaciesNow.com.
18. Source: www.rio2016.org.br/en/Noticias/Noticia.aspx?idConteudo=1157, accessed
20 April 20, 2010.
19. Broudehoux, ‘Spectacular Beijing: The Conspicuous Construction of an Olympic
Metropolis’.
518 The Olympics: East London’s Renewal and Legacy

20. MacRury, ‘Branding the Games: Commercialism and the Olympic City’.
21. MacAloon, ‘“Legacy” as Managerial/Magical Discourse’; Nolan, The Therapeutic State.
22. Office of National Statistics (ONS), Neighbourhood Statistics (2008).
23. Department of Communities and Local Government/Host Boroughs Unit, Strategic
Regeneration Framework.
24. Source: www.towerhamlets.nhs.uk/about-us/olympic-legacy/?entryid4=29776.
25. Source: www.legacycompany.co.uk/about-the-company.
26. MacAloon, ‘“Legacy” as Managerial/Magical Discourse’; MacRury, ‘Branding the
Games’.
27. National Audit Office (NAO), ‘Preparations for the London 2012 Olympic and
Paralympic Games and Beyond’; MacRury and Poynter, ‘The Regeneration Games:
London 2012’.
28. Bernstock, ‘London 2012 and the Regeneration Game’.
29. Olympic Park Legacy Company (OPLC) Preliminary Delivery Plan.
30. Ibid.
31. Greater London Assembly, London Strategic Housing Market Assessment.
32. Poynter, ‘London 2012 and the Reshaping of East London’.

References
2010LegaciesNow.com: www.2010legaciesnow.com/home/, accessed 2 June 2010.
Andranovich, G., M. Burbank and C. Heying (2001a) ‘Olympic Cities: Lessons Learned
from Mega-event Politics’, Journal of Urban Affairs, 23.2, 113–131.
Andranovich, G, M. Burbank and C. Heying (2001b) Olympic Dreams: The Impact of Mega-
events on Local Politics (Boulder: Lynne Rienner Publishers).
Bernstock, P. (2009) ‘London 2012 and the Regeneration Game’, in G. Poynter and
I. MacRury (eds), Olympic Cities and the Remaking of London (London: Ashgate), 201–218.
Blanco, I. (2009) ‘Does a “Barcelona Model” Really Exist? Periods, Territories and Actors
in the Process of Urban Transformation’, Local Government Studies, 35.3, 355–369.
Broudehoux, A. M. (2007) ‘Spectacular Beijing: The Conspicuous Construction of an
Olympic Metropolis’, Journal of Urban Affairs, 29.4, 383–399.
Brunett, F. (2009) ‘The Economy of the Barcelona Games’, in G. Poynter and I. MacRury
(eds), Olympic Cities and the Remaking of London (London: Ashgate), 97–121.
Cashman, R. (2008) ‘The Sydney Olympic Park Model: Its Evolution and Realisation’,
in Mega Event Cities, a publication for the 9th World Congress of Metropolis, at:
www.metropolisserver.com/metropolis/sites/default/files/reuniones/sydney_2008/
publicaciones/MEGAEVENT_intro.pdf (accessed 4 June 2010).
Chappelet, J.-L. (2008) ‘Olympic Environmental Concerns as a Legacy of the Winter
Games’, International Journal of the History of Sport, 25.14, 1884–1902.
Centre on Housing Rights and Evictions (COHRE) (2007) Fair Play for Mega Events,
Olympic Games and Housing Rights (Geneva: COHRE), at: www.cohre.org/store/
attachments/COHRE%27s%20Olympics%20Report.pdf (accessed 1 June 2010).
Department of Communities and Local Government/Host Boroughs Unit (2009) Strategic
Regeneration Framework (London: CLG).
Department of Culture Media and Sport (DCMS) (2008) ‘Before, During and After the
Games – Making the Most of the London 2012 Games’, at: www.culture.gov.uk/image/
publications/2012legacy actionplan.pdf (accessed 20 May 2010).
Greater London Assembly (2008) London Strategic Housing Market Assessment (London:
GLA).
 Gavin Poynter 519

International Olympic Committee (2003) ‘The Legacy of the Olympic Games:

1984–2000’, Joint Symposium, IOC Olympic Studies Centre, Olympic Studies Centre
(Autonomous University of Barcelona), November 2002, Lausanne.
Jiang Xiaoyu (2005) ‘Beijing Embodies Power, Spirit of Games’, China Daily, 5 August, at:
www.chinadaily.com.cn/opinion/2009-08/05/content_8522732.htm.
Lenskyj, H. (2000) Inside the Olympic Industry (Albany: State University of New York
Press).
London East Research Institute (2007) A Lasting Legacy? (London: London Assembly/
LERI).
MacAloon, J. (2008) ‘“Legacy” as Managerial/Magical Discourse in Contemporary
Olympic Affairs’, International Journal of the History of Sport, 25.14, 2060–2071.
MacRury I. (2009) ‘Branding the Games: Commercialism and the Olympic City’, in
G. Poynter and I. MacRury (eds), Olympic Cities: 2012 and the Remaking of London
(London: Ashgate), 43–72.
MacRury I. and G. Poynter (2008) ‘The Regeneration Games: London 2012’, International
Journal of the History of Sport, 25.14, 2072–2090.
Marshall, T. (2004) Transforming Barcelona (London: Routledge), 1–23.
Mayor of London (2009) The London Housing Strategy, Draft for Consultation (London:
Mayor’s Office), May.
National Audit Office (2008) Preparations for the London 2012 Olympic and Paralympic
Games and Beyond, Report of the Comptroller and Auditor General, HC434, Session
2007–08; SG/2008/22, 20 March 2008.
Nolan J. (1998) The Therapeutic State (New York: New York University).
Office for National Statistics, Neighbourhood Statistics (2008), at: www.statistics.gov.uk/
statbase, accessed 25 May 2010.
Olympic Park Legacy Company (2009) Preliminary Delivery Plan (London: LOCOG).
Panagiotopoulou, R. (2009) ‘The 28th Olympic Games in Athens 2004’, in G. Poynter
and I. MacRury (eds), Olympic Cities: 2012 and the Remaking of London (London:
Ashgate), 145–162.
Poynter, G. (2009) ‘London 2012 and the Reshaping of East London’, in R. Imrie, L. Lees
and M. Raco (eds), Regenerating London (London: Routledge), 132–151.
Poynter, G. and E. Roberts (2009) ‘Atlanta 1996: The Centennial Games’, in G. Poynter
and I. MacRury (eds), Olympic Cities and the Remaking of London (London: Ashgate),
121–132.
Rustin, M. (2009) ‘Sport, Spectacle and Society: Understanding the Olympics’, in
G. Poynter and I. MacRury (eds), Olympic Cities and the Remaking of London (London:
Ashgate), 3–22.
Rutheiser, C. (1996) Imagineering Atlanta (New York: Verso).
32
The Olympic Games and Housing
Hazel Blunden

Introduction

Staging the Games exacerbates, or brings forward, processes already in train – the
escalation of housing costs and urban redevelopment. This chapter will argue
that the working classes, the insecurely housed and the homeless are subject
to relocation, removal, exile or even criminalisation, prior to, and during, the
staging of an Olympic Games. It will refer to concrete examples from a selec-
tion of Olympic host cities (Seoul, Athens, Beijing, Atlanta and Sydney) in
relation to urban redevelopment and homelessness.
Typically in a city that hosts a mega-event, housing costs will rise.1 Lenskyj2
looked beyond the universally acclaimed ‘Best Olympic Games Ever’ rhetoric of
Sydney’s Olympics to uncover a legacy of rising house prices and rents.
Rutheiser3 and Beaty4 have chronicled the remaking of Atlanta and the
exile and criminalisation of the homeless. The Centre for Housing Rights and
Evictions landmark 2007 study of Olympic cities contends that mega-events are
staged to attract attention and investment which can result in new infrastructure
and economic activity, but that this is at the cost of forced evictions, reductions
in levels of housing affordability and the ‘targeting’ of vulnerable groups.5
The staging of an Olympic Games is part of a wider economic and social
agenda designed to remake cities: the imago, the urban form and urban
economy. Typically when an Olympic bid is made, a process is already in
train – a process of growing economic activity and gentrification. Bidding for
an Olympic Games is part of a boosterist process fuelled by a desire to remake
and ‘show off’ a city to attract new investment and tourists.

Housing effects

In regards to housing redevelopment, once a bid to stage the Games is won,

it provides the ‘unarguable’ justification for mass displacements and for the

520
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 Hazel Blunden 521

formerly politically impossible to become possible,6 facilitated by new laws to

enable the process. Those who disagree or who are ‘in the way’ of redevelop-
ment are denounced as unpatriotic, painted as ‘spoilsports’, moved or exiled.
Sometimes the relocation process is relatively peaceable involving compen-
sation and incentives; sometimes it is a vicious struggle involving violent
evictions and incarcerations. Specific laws, the use of force, as well as offers
of recompense (both monetary and in the form of replacement housing), are
deployed by the state to compensate, pacify and/or enforce removal of popula-
tions seen as obstacles to redevelopment. How this plays out depends on the
characteristics specific host city, political orientation of governments (Federal,
State/province and local) and level of struggle and resistance. There are also
hierarchies within the affected populace – home-owners are typically treated
better than renters, with the homeless and marginally housed groups often
being the worst affected.
Housing for the industrial (or formerly industrial but now unemployed)
workforce and those marginally attached to the economy can become the
source of shame and the object of the pre-Olympic redevelopment. Ageing,
working-class or uncommodified housing (and its inhabitants) can become
a physical and economic obstacle to the boosterist capitalist cycle of urban
destruction and renewal.
Homeless persons may be subject to pressure to be excluded from certain
spaces, or more commonly, subject to management and control with varying
degrees of coercion, including the use of incarceration and exile, facilitated via
new legislation and increased police presence.
The typical pattern in host cities is that housing costs usually accelerate as
the Games approach, then slump slightly after the Games are over. That a bid
is made at all rests on the nation or city’s belief that the city is ‘ready’ for it
and can afford it – it is the culmination of a previous period of quickening
urban activity and redevelopment. The Games provide the perfect justification
to ‘clear out’ old housing and populations via invoking a sense of urgency by
referral to the deadline that the coming Games provide.
Staging an Olympics can result in the remaking of the housing landscape to
advantage property developers, and those with growing incomes who are the
buyers or renters of new real estate products via gentrification. New affordable or
social housing to replace lost low-cost housing has only been secured in a minority
of host cities (Barcelona, Melbourne [Commonwealth Games], Athens).
The winning of an Olympics bid changes the political and economic land-
scape. As Rutheiser points out:

What the Olympics can do for a city is bulldoze away barriers to develop-
ment, clearing the path for massive urban renewal projects that otherwise
would be unthinkable.7
522 The Olympic Games and Housing

The impossible suddenly becomes possible and legitimated. Money otherwise

unavailable suddenly becomes available. Whole neighbourhoods can now be
shifted or demolished.
In regards to how the host city’s people are treated depends on the attitude
of the state and to what extent developers are given opportunities to ‘cash in’
on the Olympics via the state making sites available and favourable zoning
decisions. Key to ensuring speedy urban renewal are Olympic-related laws
which may be presented as ‘special’ or ‘temporary’ in nature. Typically, these
laws expedite legal processes related to eviction and relocation and may also
be used to criminalise the homeless. What varies, as the case studies below
show, is how that process is executed and whether any compensatory housing
measures are provided or levied from new development.
When those with existing property rights are relocated, various degrees of
compensation can be mandated by the state (either in the form of money or
new housing). For the non-landed – renters, the homeless and the marginally
housed – compensation is less or non-existent. In some host cities, recalcitrants
have been subject to violent eviction.
Apart from large-scale evictions, landlords may evict individual tenants in order
to rent out dwellings for the duration of the Games to international visitors.8 For
example, landlords in Sydney with homes in the Olympic precinct were particu-
larly prone to the ‘going for gold’ real estate syndrome but the effect spilled out
to many other areas of the city too.9 New infrastructure (railways, motorways)
associated with Olympic construction add value to nearby real estate, as in the
example of house price rises nearby to a new ring road and airport in Athens.

Case studies

Relocations: Seoul 1988

At the time of the bid for and staging of the Seoul Olympics, a period of
instability had come to an end, spanning the period from the 1980 Kwangju
Massacre to the people’s democracy movement in 1987. President Roh had
just been elected when the Olympics were staged in 1988. There was already a
recent history of mass evictions and removal of informal housing.10
In the immediate period leading up to the Olympics, ageing, permit-less hous-
ing was targeted as unacceptable and in need of demolition by the government:

In labeling old neighborhoods as ‘substandard’ (the word bulryang chutaek

is often translated as ‘slum’ rather than literally as ‘substandard housing’),
certain common features such as leaky roofs, drafty walls, lack of hot tap
water, lack of paved floor in the kitchen area, toilets outside in the back, and
lack of shower or bath beyond a basin in the outdoor courtyard if there was
one, were becoming less tolerable to Koreans.11
 Hazel Blunden 523

The proletarian low-rise areas were home to the thousands of rural emigrants
who had come to the city to work in Seoul’s expanding manufacturing sector.
These informal dwellings did not fit the preferred picture of an imagined
middle class who would inhabit new apartment housing in a modern city.12
The dwellings were one storey, whereas developers wanted the land to build
upwards. Most importantly, the housing did not fit into commodified property
forms as it was not titled or built with a permit. Thus the process of demolition
and replacement with new apartment buildings would not only remove the
‘unsightly’ housing but would bring this city land (and the new housing on
it) into a proper capitalist form of real estate. To defray the cost of staging the
Olympics, the government hoped to sell the new apartments.
The practice of forced evictions became more frequent and more violent
as a direct result of the city’s preparations to host the Olympic Games.13 The
evictions were condemned by the UN Habitat conference in 1987 for being one
of the world’s most physically violent and brutal.14 48,000 buildings housing
720,000 people were destroyed in Seoul. Ninety per cent of those evicted did
not receive replacement housing within the redevelopment site but were made
to go elsewhere.
The government, by outsourcing redevelopment to private companies, insu-
lated itself from direct confrontation with those being displaced. Evictions
were largely carried out through the use of private security personnel hired by
redevelopment companies (more commonly referred to by the local residents
and activists as ‘thugs’ or ‘gangsters’) who intimidated residents to leave, and
made empty houses unliveable to keep people out if they tried to return.15 The
neighbourhoods of Mokdong and Sanggyedong were significant sites of con-
flict. Boarding up, smashing up and lighting fires in seized houses and brutal
evictions were reported by residents as the norm.
The state gave little compensation to the owner-squatters and none to
tenant-squatters, except when the perseverance of the residents and ongoing
resistance forced concessions from the government. The results were ad hoc –
communities that fought the hardest and longest for their homes were given
some recompense if they finally agreed to leave; in Mokdong others got the
option of buying or renting new apartments in the redeveloped areas or the
option of relocating to the country, but only after years of struggle.16
After the Olympics, new affordable housing was built but not all of it was
given to working people. However a strong nationwide housing-rights move-
ment in South Korea has emerged.17

Relocations: Athens 2004

The Athens Olympic Games was clearly one that the Greek government did not
want marred by any controversy as Greece is the ancient home of the Olympics
and it was an emotionally important event. Overall the housing effects were
524 The Olympic Games and Housing

not marked, because of the different housing situation in Greece. Greece has
a very high level of home ownership – between 84 per cent and 90 per cent,
and a low level of rental, around 5 per cent nationally, but with an estimated
27 per cent renting in Athens in 2001.18
Where compulsory acquisition was required for Olympic-related projects,
compensation of an adequate or even generous amount was paid by the state.
If there was a failure to vacate, an expedited eviction process sanctioned by a
new law (Article 7 of Law 2730/1999) was followed.
The statistics collected by the National Statistical Service of Greece did show
an escalating amount spent on housing costs, especially between 2003 and
2004. However it is unknown if this was solely Olympics-related or because it
included increases in household bills for heating.19 The largest land and house
price rises were not near the stadium site, but in already valuable city areas, and
areas close to the new ring road and airport.20
While in most Olympic host cities social and affordable housing is lost
or relocated, in Athens, 2292 units of social and affordable housing were
created out of the Athletes’ Village.21 However this was in addition to Greece’s
miniscule stock of social housing.
There were some dislocations, in particular of the Romany communities
living in informal settlements. It is estimated that more than 2700 individuals
of Romany ethnic origin had to move.22 The Games were used as pretext for
evicting Roma from squatted settlements such as that at Aspropyrgos, even
though it was unclear if the area would be used for Olympic facilities (ulti-
mately it was not). The Greek National Commission on Human Rights noted:

It is also a fact that the holding of the Olympic Games has been an occa-
sion for driving the Roma out of many regions. Local communities (very
often untruthfully) invoked the need for the construction of sports facilities
in order to get rid of the Roma, as was the case in Mexico in 1968.23

The Greek Ombudsman identified several instances of extra-legal eviction at

Aspropyrgos and recommended that the authorities administratively sanction
the Mayor of Aspropyrgos, George Liakos. However, this did not occur. A sepa-
rate court case ended in an acquittal of Liakos in 2005.24
Part of the strategy of offering housing to some of the Roma was to disperse
them in order to break up communities (and perhaps ‘integrate’ them into the
Greek mainstream). Opposition from residents living next to the new housing
for Romany people caused tensions, causing agreements for relocation to be
altered. For example, the agreement to relocate Roma from Aghia Paraskevi to
Spata met with official rejection from the Municipality of Spata and the Roma
community had to go elsewhere.
 Hazel Blunden 525

Closer to the stadium (indeed next door to it) in Marousi, the Roma
community was asked to vacate their 30-year-old settlement two years prior to
the Games. A relocation agreement was signed between the Mayor of Marousi
and a representative of the 40 Roma families. The nearby Albanian Roma were
not included, despite some of them holding residence permits. In any case, the
municipality defaulted on the promised rental subsidies and future permanent
housing, which resulted in some Roma now renting being evicted for rental
arrears.25

Relocations: Beijing 2008

The Beijing Olympics occurred at a critical point in China’s history – the
reorientation of the country towards capitalist practices, expansion of export
manufacture, acceleration of infrastructure building, and China’s consolida-
tion of its status as world power. China’s rapid modernisation and development
fits in with the classic ‘city on the make’ tactic of bidding for the Games. The
city set out to dazzle the world with a modernised Beijing and the architectur-
ally showy venues such as the ‘Water Cube’ and the ‘Bird’s Nest’.
As with most Olympic host cities, displacement was already occurring prior
to the Games but the Games accelerated the process.26 Even prior to the bid,
redevelopments occurred in order to give Beijing a better chance of winning
the bid.
The slogan for the Beijing Olympics was ‘One World, One Dream’. However
many people were relocated in order for this ‘dream’ to be realised:

Many of the 1.5 million people displaced from their homes due to construc-
tion and urban redevelopment in the eight-year run-up to the Games have
protested that it was not their dream to be displaced from their homes in
order to stage a sporting event.27

The effects on the Beijing populace of staging the Games were massive. It is
estimated by the Centre for Housing Rights and Evictions (COHRE) that over
1.25 million people were displaced due to Olympics-related urban redevelop-
ment, with at least another quarter of a million displacements expected for
the year prior to the staging of the event.28 In addition, the official figures did
not include evictions of migrants living ‘temporarily’ in 171 neighbourhoods
within the city’s core who also lost their homes as a result of urban develop-
ment linked to the Olympic Games.29 The official figure of 15,000, COHRE
argued, did not take into account all the Olympics-related evictions related to
‘beautification’ and infrastructure projects.30
As in other Olympic cities, low-rise, dense, old housing was earmarked for
demolition (the siheyuans – traditional buildings with as many as three or
526 The Olympic Games and Housing

four courtyards, and home to extended or multiple families). While owners

were compensated, renters were not always.31 Occupants were given time to
move, but many knew that they would have to move further out, away from
friends and jobs.
As with all gentrification processes, new housing for professional workers
meant the relocation of blue collar workers, flinging them further away from
the city’s historic precincts. The areas affected by redevelopment such as this
were not directly linked to Olympics-related infrastructure, but a link was
made in official discourse. For example slogans painted on walls in Dongchang
hutong included ‘Welcome the Olympic Games’, ‘Treasure the opportunity’,
‘Improve our surroundings’, and ‘Initiate a new life’. Stragglers were warned
that they may lose out on compensation if they did not move: in Dayuanfu
hutong one sign read ‘Leave early, receive benefits, wait around and lose out’.32
In other areas, small shopkeepers were moved out and multinational corpora-
tions moved into a newly redeveloped commercial precinct at Qianmen.33
In residential areas, compensation was offered, but some residents felt it was
not in line with true value. If a household rejected an offer, negotiation with
the construction company was carried out. However if that failed, court orders
for demolition were sought. Some residents complained of harassment or of
visits by police to their workplace.34 If residents would not move an eviction
was carried out by the police. In theory Chinese law guarantees the residential
conditions of the expropriated but some did not receive enough compensation
to buy or rent equivalent housing.
Part of the gentrification process is the displacement and price hikes which
effectively keep out lower-income people so that the emergent middle classes can
have the run of inner city areas.35 Given China’s economic trajectory towards
market capitalism, urban redevelopment is following a similar pattern in Beijing
as it has in Western cities where the inner areas become revitalised and gentri-
fied; however, there is an accepted right to housing for citizens in the latter.
In the cases of Seoul, Athens and Beijing, populations were forcibly
relocated. However populations (and sub-groups within populations) received
very different treatment. Seoul saw the most violent eviction process while in
Athens, new housing was provided to some Romany people while others were
simply evicted and relocated to similarly poor housing settlements elsewhere;
some lower income people benefited from the new social housing. Beijing
displaced many people but compensation, albeit sometimes inadequate, was
given; whereas in Seoul terrible struggles occurred; those compensated really
had to fight for any housing justice at all. In all cases, the working class
and most marginalised were the ones who were chosen for relocation and
received varying degrees of compensation (or none) depending on whether
they were home-owners or tenants, or deemed ‘non-citizens’ as were the
Albanian Roma.
 Hazel Blunden 527

Homelessness: Atlanta 1996

All host cities want to show off the city, free from the blight of urban poverty
and homelessness. In Atlanta, and the United States of America generally,
where poverty and homelessness are posited as personal ‘choice’, there was a
particularly repressive response to the homeless during the Games.
Atlanta, the home of Coca-Cola’s global headquarters and convention
centres, is a city of extremes. Huge wealth combined with 1980s boosterism
existed side by side with deprivation of strongly racial variety with some 35
per cent of African-Americans living in poverty.36 As is usual with Olympic
cities, a process of gentrification had been underway for some time via urban
renewal, expressway building and displacement of poorer (mainly African-
American) people.37 In the ten years before the Games wealth disparity
increased between Atlanta and the USA average and within the city itself.38
Prior to the Games, there were huge numbers of homeless people in Atlanta
(the majority of them African-American men).
The surprise bid win for the 1996 Olympics by Atlanta took many unawares,
but soon housing activists were watching videos of the mass evictions in Seoul
and were starting to get organised.39 Activists such as Anita Beaty of the Atlanta
Task Force for the Homeless fought hard prior to and throughout the Games
but were up against a powerful business and government elite that used a
divide-and-conquer strategy against poorer neighbourhoods.
While there was some relocation of public housing tenants (mainly away
from visible areas near the stadium site), as well as ‘renewal’ (gentrification/
privatisation) of public housing estates, some people were pushed into home-
lessness as a result of the contraction of social housing supply. The homeless,
in a vengeful blame-the-individual manner, were painted as not worthy of any
housing at all:

In order to limit visible poverty, planners and developers used the city
government to control the apparent need for additional low-cost housing
by convincing the public that the visible poor, un-housed people in the city
were not deserving of housing but were social deviants, even criminals, who
would be better off in jail.40

The comments from certain officials in Atlanta made it clear that the attitude
was to be one of removing the homeless from the public eye in order to present
Atlanta in the best possible light to the visitors. The USA’s grossly unequal
society was being airbrushed, and the justification was the Olympics.
The treatment of the homeless was one of the most savage ever witnessed in
the history of the Games. Over 9000 homeless people were arrested, some kept
in jail without trial. Others were threatened with arrest or given one-way bus
tickets out of town. Housing activists took legal action. The City faced a Federal
528 The Olympic Games and Housing

Court ‘cease and desist’ order following a court case because of its arrest of the
homeless without probable cause.41
The legacy for Atlanta was a bitter one. Gentrification and displacements
continued after the Games. Eleven years after the Games were staged in
1996,

the Atlanta Housing Authority continues its destruction of public housing

‘by declaring 3,000 occupied units ‘obsolete’ and displacing 9,600
residents’ . . . The Olympics began the modern redevelopment of Atlanta
and paved the way for downtown developers to control the city. This gen-
trified city makes room only for those people who can afford the average
housing costs.42

One can surmise that the only positive thing for the homeless was departure
of the Games from Atlanta, modifying the intense level of incarceration and
control they were subject to during the Games period.

Homelessness: Sydney 2000

As with most Olympic bidder cities, Sydney was on the cusp of a boom. House
prices had been rising throughout the mid to late 1990s, increasingly pricing
out many from home ownership. Rentals too were increasingly expensive,
especially in the inner city. The homeless population was mainly concentrated
in the inner city but also in the city centre closer to the Games stadium site.
Unlike Atlanta, where homeless persons were subject to arbitrary arrest, the
Sydney approach was more carrot than stick – services for the homeless were
temporarily boosted during the period of the Games. In addition, the homeless
were afforded a formal ‘right’ to be on the streets, unless they posed a serious
threat to themselves or others, as encoded in a ‘homelessness protocol’ agreed
to by government, non-government organisations and police.
The then Premier of the state of New South Wales, Bob Carr, was aware of the
criticisms of the treatment of the homeless from the Atlanta Games and early
on made a statement setting out the parameters to be followed when he stated:
‘Any idea that we behave like Hitler in 1936 by getting unfortunate people off
the streets to present a false image of the world should not be embraced.’43
The welfare sector and housing activists were suspicious and well prepared,
having heard about the ‘street sweeping’ approach to the homeless in Atlanta.
As Atlanta campaigners had done with Toronto activists from the anti-Olympic
group Bread Not Circuses, so housing activists did in Sydney. They invited
Anita Beaty and Toronto activist David Hulchanski to Sydney where they spoke
at various forums about housing impacts. Beaty’s message to the gathered
Sydney activists was, in terms of Atlanta’s treatment of the homeless: ‘We did
it wrong . . . Y’all can do it right’.44
 Hazel Blunden 529

As a way of enforcing the agreement with government on the homelessness

protocol, activists committed to monitoring the treatment of the homeless.
A 24-hour legal hotline for homeless people was established by an inner city
legal centre and cards were distributed to street homeless so they could call
pro-bono lawyers for assistance.
The state Labor government, in a manner more relaxed and less authoritarian
than other host cities, did tolerate protests and employed a ‘management of the
homeless’ strategy. Church-run shelters in Parramatta (the closest city centre to
the main Olympic stadium) extended their hours and opened new areas for the
homeless under ‘Operation Safe Haven’. This was both a way of assisting home-
less people during a time of large crowds and also of getting them off the streets.
Once again, extra funding materialised. During the Olympic Games period, for a
short time the need for emergency accommodation was closer to being met.
Police, used to being on the front line in dealing with homeless and often
mentally ill persons, enjoyed the new arrangements as they could call on the
expertise of the outreach teams and the outreach teams could find beds for the
homeless. Inspector Donald Graham of the NSW Police Force explained that
the use of outreach workers was welcomed by the police and he only wished
such an arrangement could be in place all the time, and not just during the
Olympic period.45 Graham said in interview in May 2005 that he did not believe
there was a policy of ‘street sweeping’ in place: ‘I’ve been able to confirm over
and over again that there is no government policy; there is certainly no police
service policy in relation to trying to rid the city of homeless people.’46
However, nor was there any attempt to reduce homelessness in the long term
and no new social and affordable housing was included in the Athletes’ Village
development (now a suburb named Newington).
In 2010, ten years after the Sydney Olympics, the Homeless Persons Information
Centre reported a steady increase in calls over time and a 22 per cent increase in
calls in the year to 2008–2009 alone. Similarly, the annual ‘counting the home-
less’ survey in 2010 in inner Sydney also found about 12.7 per cent more people
sleeping rough than the year before.47
In reality the hard and soft methods of control (Atlanta and Sydney, respec-
tively) are simply different approaches to the same goal of ‘street sweeping’ –
removing homeless people from the streets and keeping them out of sight. After
the cameras and world attention is gone, the homeless are released back into
their usual state of free-ranging impoverishment. Obviously temporary hous-
ing is better than prison, but the end result was the same – homelessness was
not reduced in either city. The Atlanta and Sydney approaches reflect the US
and Australian conditions – a harsh, punitive, neoliberal, repressive approach
(in Atlanta’s case) and a softer social-democratically-tinged neoliberal approach
(in Sydney). However, neither approach resulted in the slightest improvement
in the long term to the situation of homeless people.
530 The Olympic Games and Housing

Conclusion

Although an Olympic Games can exacerbate housing price rises and redevelop-
ment resulting in evictions, it is only one factor amongst many. Typically when
a city bids for an Olympics it is as part of an overall economic boom or urban
transformation strategy.
Although the staging of the Games can give impetus to activists and elected
progressives to seek more funding for affordable housing via inclusion in the
Athletes’ Village or new suburbs, the deterioration of affordability and increase
in eviction/relocation for low to median-income residents is the normal hous-
ing outcome for Olympic host cities.
Housing price rises are not amenable to attempts at progressive legisla-
tion because rising house prices underpin Western capitalist economies (and
increasingly housing has become marketised in China). It is a form of wealth
that relies on an economic ‘Ponzi’ principle whereby people speculate on rising
asset prices (‘real estate’) assisted by access to unprecedented levels of debt. This
shows little sign of unwinding, at least in Canada and Australia, where house
prices barely flattened despite the global recession of 2009–2010.
Staging of mega-events such as an Olympic Games fans the flames of specula-
tion ever higher and adds an imagined gold-medal gloss on to a city. Infrastruc-
ture works carried out by government do also add real value to certain areas in
the host city. Lower-income renters (deprived of secure, affordable tenure) and
the homeless (those deprived of stable or indeed any housing at all) are the
ones targeted for relocation and the ones who do not gain from the Olympics
(unless they are one of the lucky few selected for new social housing, if any is
set aside). These groups have little to no ‘utility’ for a booming property market
as they are non-lucrative tenants and are not potential buyers and the state
cannot or will not provide housing alternatives that are off-market. The stag-
ing of an Olympics provides the perfect justification for added repression and
relocation of unwanted communities.

Notes
1. Cox et al., The Olympics and Housing: A Study of Six International, Events and Analysis
of Potential Impacts of the Sydney 2000 Olympics.
2. Lenskyj, The Best Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of Sydney 2000.
3. Rutheiser, Imagineering Atlanta: The Politics of Place in the City of Dreams.
4. Beaty, Atlanta’s Olympic Legacy.
5. Centre for Housing Rights and Evictions (COHRE), Fair Play for Housing Rights: Mega-
Events, Olympic Games and Housing Rights, 11.
6. Rutheiser, Imagineering Atlanta, 4.
7. Ibid.
8. For example, housing in Vancouver for the Winter Games was being advertised
on the Internet for $1700 Canadian dollars a night. Rent 2010 website, at: www.
rent2010.net/listing1478.html, accessed 3 April 2010.
 Hazel Blunden 531

9. Lenskjy, The Best Olympics Ever?, 99.

10. Davis, Housing Evictions and the Seoul 1988 Summer Olympic Games, 5.
11. Ibid., 12.
12. COHRE, Fair Play for Housing Rights, 84.
13. Davis, Housing Evictions and the Seoul 1988 Summer Olympic Games, 4.
14. Ibid., 28.
15. Ibid., 22–23.
16. Lee, The Practice of Protest: Three Case Studies in Urban Renewal, 152–153.
17. Davis, Housing Evictions and the Seoul 1988 Summer Olympic Games, 33.
18. Alexandridis, The Housing Impact of the 2004 Olympic Games in Athens, 4.
19. Ibid., 13.
20. Tsantila, Developments in the Athens Property Market.
21. Solomon, ‘The Afterlife of Olympic Villages’.
22. Alexandridis, The Housing Impact of the 2004 Olympic Games in Athens, 16.
23. Ibid., 17.
24. Ibid.
25. Ibid., 24.
26. Fowler, One World, Whose Dream? Housing Rights Violations and the Beijing Olympic
Games, 5.
27. Ibid., 6.
28. Ibid., 7.
29. Ibid., 7.
30. Ibid., 8.
31. Ibid., 9.
32. Ibid., 10.
33. Ibid., 11.
34. Ibid., 13.
35. Smith, The New Urban Frontier: Gentrification and the Revanchist City.
36. Sjoquist, The Atlanta Paradox: Multi-city Study of Urban Inequality.
37. Beaty, Atlanta’s Olympic Legacy, 8.
38. Ibid., 5.
39. Ibid., 18.
40. Ibid., 6.
41. Ibid., 4.
42. Ibid., 49.
43. Bob Carr, reported in Australian Associated Press, 2 June 1998.
44. Anita Beaty, public forum, Sydney, 3 August 1998.
45. Blunden, The Impacts of the Sydney Olympic Games on Housing Rights, 18.
46. Ibid.
47. Homeless Persons Information centre figures on the National Homelessness
Information Clearinghouse website: www.homelessnessinfo.net.au/index.php?
option=com_content&view=article&id=1072: more- doing- it- rough- on- sydneys-
streets&catid=146:homelessness-news&Itemid=43 (accessed 25 May 2010).

References
Alexandridis, T. and Greek Helsinki Monitor (2007) The Housing Impact of the 2004
Olympic Games in Athens (Geneva: Centre for Housing Rights and Evictions).
Anon (2007) New Beijing, New Olympics: Urban Transformation at What Cost? (Geneva:
Centre for Housing Rights and Evictions).
532 The Olympic Games and Housing

Beaty, A. (2007) Atlanta’s Olympic Legacy (Geneva: Centre for Housing Rights and
Evictions).
Blunden, H. (2007) The Impacts of the Sydney Olympic Games on Housing Rights (Geneva:
COHRE).
Brown, M. (1998) ‘City “Cleansing” Fear for Games’, Sydney Morning Herald, 3 June, 8.
Centre for Housing Rights and Evictions (COHRE) (2007) Fair Play for Housing Rights:
Mega-events, Olympic Games and Housing Rights (Geneva: COHRE).
Cox, G. (1996) ‘Showing Off or Showing Up the City? The Social Impacts of Major
Events’, paper presented at the 16th Annual meeting of the International Association
for Impact Assessment, Lisbon, Portugal, June.
Cox, G. (1998) ‘Dollar Signs in Their Eyes and Counting Bedrooms – Assessing the
Housing Impacts of Major Events’, paper presented at the 18th Annual Meeting of the
International Association for Impact Assessment, Christchurch, New Zealand, April.
Cox, G., M. Darcy and M. Bounds (1994) The Olympics and Housing: A Study of Six
International Events and Analysis of Potential Impacts of the Sydney 2000 Olympics, Shelter
NSW and the Housing and Urban Studies Research Group, University of Western
Sydney, Macarthur.
Davis, L. (2007) Housing Evictions and the Seoul 1988 Summer Olympic Games (Geneva:
Centre for Housing Rights and Evictions).
Fowler, D. (2008) One World, Whose Dream? Housing Rights Violations and the Beijing
Olympic Games (Geneva: COHRE).
Lee, J-Y. (1990) The Practice of Protest: Three Case Studies in Urban Renewal, PhD thesis, City
University of New York.
Lenskyj, H. (2002) The Best Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of Sydney 2000 (Albany: State
University of New York Press).
Lenskyj, H. (2004) ‘Making the World Safe for Global Capital: The Sydney 2000 Olympics
and Beyond’, in J. Bale and M. Christensen (eds), Post Olympism? Questioning Sport in
the Twenty-first Century (London: Berg Publishers), 135–145.
National Homelessness Information Clearinghouse website, at: www.homelessnessinfo.
net.au/index.php?option=com_content&view=article&id=1072:more-doing-it-rough-
on-sydneys-streets&catid=146:homelessness-news&Itemid=43 (accessed 25 May 2010).
Rutheiser, C. (1996a) ‘How Atlanta Lost the Olympics: City, State Lose Control of
Economic Benefits’, New Statesman, 19 July.
Rutheiser, C. (1996b) Imagineering Atlanta: The Politics of Place in the City of Dreams
(New York, Verso).
Rutheiser, C. (2000) article in The Village Voice, 13–19 December.
Savadove, B, (2005) ‘Housing Eviction Protestors Detained’, South China Morning Post,
21 September.
Sjoquist, D. L. (ed.) (2000) The Atlanta Paradox: Multi-city Study of Urban Inequality
(New York: Russell Sage Foundation).
Smith, N. (1996) The New Urban Frontier: Gentrification and the Revanchist City (London:
Routledge).
Solomon, C. (2010) ’The Afterlife of Olympic Villages’, MSN Real Estate website, http://
realestate.msn.com/article.aspx?cp-documentid=23530429 (accessed 25 May 2010).
Tsantila, M. (2003–2004) Developments in the Athens Property Market, Issue 29, Winter.
33
Anti-Olympic Campaigns
Konstantinos Zervas

In the contemporary world of globalised sports and extreme commercialisation

the most prominent of all sporting events, the Olympic Games, have become
the centre of sceptical and critical attention over recent years. An emerging
anti-Olympic movement has spread around the planet, wherever the Olympics
are being proposed or held, questioning the benefits and citing the harmful
impact of the Games. On the eve of the London 2012 Games, amidst a glo-
bal economic crisis and a growing gap between rich and the poor in many
countries, the Olympics seem to have failed to meet the demands of our time.
With constantly rising demands on financial, human and natural resources,
the Olympics continue to consume voraciously in a world of austerity. Also,
their governing body, the IOC, with its aristocratic constitution and ambiguous
agenda, provokes opposition both with its authoritarianism toward hosting
countries, and its ambiguous political decisions. For these reasons and many
others the Olympic Games are now, more than ever before, being overtly chal-
lenged by activist groups and academics. Those who have registered that dis-
sent, most notably Simson and Jennings, Lenskyj, and Shaw, have succeeded
largely in revealing the true nature of the Olympics, exposing the IOC and
charting the growth of a quite significant social movement.1 Their pioneering
work has set the study of the Olympics at a new level and in the process con-
tributed to our understanding of the relationship between mega sports events
and the wider society. But they have also raised more questions about the role
of the Games and the nature of the opposition to them.
In the absence of plausible evidence that the Olympics will provide some
kind of sustainable development for the host society and its people, criticism
of the Olympics and their impact is growing steadily. As noted, there are sev-
eral academics who over recent years have attempted to develop the aware-
ness of how the Olympic promises turn out to be Olympic myths. Helen Lenskyj,
with her pioneering investigation of the Toronto bids for the 1996 and 2008
Olympics, and of the Sydney Olympics of 2000, shed light on the ‘Olympic

533
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
534 Anti-Olympic Campaigns

scandals’ and revealed the true impacts of the Olympics on the economy, the
host society and the environment, in contrast to what was suggested by the
mainstream media and a number of academics. Lenskyj concluded in her latest
book that: ‘Like other hallmark events, the Olympics threaten the basic rights
and freedoms of residents in host cities, with particularly serious impacts on
the lives of low-income and homeless people.’2
Another Canadian academic, Christopher Shaw, in his book, Five Ring Circus,
Myths and Realities of the Olympic Games, investigated the preparation for the
Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics. Shaw reported serious ‘inconsistencies’ on
the part of the local organisers (VANOC) and the IOC and acknowledged the
incapacity (or unwillingness) of the ‘Olympic Movement’ to create a sustain-
able legacy in any of the areas related to the Games. Shaw concluded that the
IOC had been transformed into an ‘elite megacorporation now utterly addicted
to wealth and power’ and called for a radical solution: ‘The IOC has to be
brought to an end.’3

The growth of Olympic opposition

From the Mexico City Olympics of 1968, when students protested against
the Olympic Games in Tlatelolco Square and were fired on by the police4
to the anti-Olympic and anti-bid campaigns of the 1990s and onwards, the
movement against the Olympics has developed and flourished. From the best
presented cases, cited by Helen Lenskyj, of Toronto’s 1996 and 2008 ‘Bread not
Circuses’ and Sydney 2000 ‘Green Games Watch’ to the least analysed cases
of Amsterdam 1992, Atlanta 1996, Berlin 2000, Paris and London 2012 and
so on, the movements around the world have expressed their concerns and
opposition to the Olympics and Olympism, and recorded the ‘side effects’ of
the world’s biggest sporting event: the dubious expending of public money,
gentrification, harassment, threats to the environmental and social balance
and other controversies that have affected the hosting and bidding cities. The
record of all these ‘side effects’ by the campaigners and their dissemination by
the academics who studied those campaigns have significantly contributed to
our understanding of the ‘Olympic’ phenomenon and provided the founda-
tions of a wider ‘social consciousness’ around hallmark events.
But even so, few things have changed in regard to those inconsistencies
which the above movements protested about, evidence of the IOC’s profound
willingness to protect its ‘brand’, the Olympics. A recent study of the move-
ment opposed to the Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics’, ‘No Games 2010’, by
Christopher Shaw, came up with the same issues that had been reported by
similar groups in the past – waste of public money, gentrification, criminalisation
of dissidents and environmental catastrophes.5 Although the Winter Olympics
were always considered far less ‘aggravating’ than the Summer ones, it seems like
 Konstantinos Zervas 535

along with their growing magnitude come greater ‘side effects’, and beyond that,
the growth of political mobilisation against them.

Case studies of Olympic opposition

Movements around the world continue to promote issues that concern the
Olympic Games and oppose the decisions and actions of Olympic and bid-
ding committees. The anti-Olympic groups that were campaigning during the
2016 bidding process are quite significant as they prove that the movement
against the Games is alive and the issues concerning their hosts remain. They
are, though, particularly interesting to look at for two reasons. Firstly, for the
increasing support they receive from political and social figurations, consider-
ing that in the past those who were opposing the Olympics were widely con-
sidered as marginal and outlaws. Secondly, it is very interesting to observe how
the contemporary campaigns are being transformed by employing the new
digital media and by utilising internet technology.

Tokyo 2016
Tokyo’s bid for the 2016 Olympic Games alongside Rio de Janeiro (the winner –
see Clift and Andrews, Chapter 13 in this book), Madrid and Chicago. Despite
the fact that it was the most expensive bid of all (costed at approximately
$50 million) and received the highest evaluation marks from the IOC, it was
the runner-up to Rio. Japan had a long tradition of Olympic hosting, with the
Tokyo summer Olympics of 1964 and two Winter Olympics, in 1972 in Sapporo
and 1998 in Nagano. A group called ‘No Olympic Tokyo 2016 Network’ opposed
the city’s proposed bid on the grounds of overspending, corruption and low
public support. They expressed their concern over the cost of the Tokyo bid,
re-estimating it at $120 million and reminded the Japanese public that after the
1998 Nagano Games all that was left were ‘white elephants’. The group con-
sisted of politicians, architects, journalists and community groups and had the
support of several political parties in the Tokyo Metropolitan Assembly. Their
campaign’s achievement was that less than 60 per cent of Tokyo’s population
were supportive of the 2016 bid. A delegation from ‘No Olympic Tokyo 2016
Network’ was present at the Copenhagen IOC meeting, where Rio was eventu-
ally named as 2016 Games host, to express their opposition to the IOC, even
reminding people that ‘Japan is a host of earthquake epicentres and shouldn’t
host the Olympics’, according to a leaflet distributed there.

Chicago 2016
US President Barack Obama’s home town also bid for the 2016 Games. The
bid benefited from strong support by sports personalities of global significance
like Michael Jordan and Michael Phelps, media celebrities like Oprah Winfrey
and of course from the President of the world’s most powerful nation, Obama
536 Anti-Olympic Campaigns

himself. For that reason it was considered a strong favourite, but failed even
to make it to the second round of the IOC vote, coming fourth. A probable
reason for that was the low support rate from Chicagoans, mostly because of
the dynamic campaign led by the group called ‘No Games Chicago’ (NGC).
The group openly accused Chicago’s Mayor and head of the bidding commit-
tee, Richard Daley, of corruption and authoritarianism and demanded that the
money set aside for the Olympics should instead go on healthcare and schools,
on the city’s stagnating infrastructure and to cover the city’s budget gap.
NGC managed to gain notable public support, mainly by utilising smart
new-media tools like Facebook, Twitter and MySpace. It must be noted that
by the time of the IOC decision on Chicago the NGC page on Facebook had
more than 2000 members. NGC members travelled to Lausanne when Chicago
submitted the bid, where they submitted their own ‘anti-bid book’, and to
Copenhagen where the decision on the 2016 Games was taken to demonstrate
in front of the IOC. Members from the official Chicago 2016 team had even
secretly joined the NGC campaign, providing useful information. The success
of NGC even overshadowed the support from global celebrities and resulted in
the complete failure of the bid.
In the remainder of this chapter, I would like to present a case study of
Olympic activism which has great significance both in terms of analysing the
Olympic phenomenon and further than that, our contemporary world. That
case is the story of opposition to the Athens 2004 Games. This story became
even more interesting in 2010, six years after the Athens Olympics, when
Greece faced one of the worst financial crises of its modern history.

Athens: a romantic return?

The relationship between Greece and what are called the ‘modern Olympic
Games’ has always been harmonious and warm. The Olympics always repre-
sented the finest values, which Greece had imparted to the rest of the world. The
first modern Olympics of 1896 in Athens, which blended the mythic with the
historic, were conceived as a basic expression of Greek tradition and pride. The
‘return’ of the Games to their birthplace was also a part of that mythic relation-
ship. The Centennial Olympics of 1996 were considered by most of the Greek
population as the rightful continuance of that long-term link between Greece
and the Olympics. This whole mythical and romantic illusion was seriously
disrupted by reality in 1990, when the IOC had chosen the Coca-Cola and
CNN-funded Atlanta bid rather than the romantic and poorly prepared Athens
bid. The cruel realisation that the Olympics had lost any of the ritual, tradi-
tional values, or ‘Greekness’, they possessed and were now utterly attracted to
money and power arose in many people’s minds. But this realisation was soon
forgotten when Athens bid again for the 2004 Games. The committee for the
 Konstantinos Zervas 537

2004 Athens Olympic bid employed the same rhetoric as in 1990 – about ‘the
return of the Games to their birthplace’, the ‘historic right’ of Greece to host
the Olympics and the ‘rebirth of Olympism’. Behind that rhetoric, the bid was
carefully organised by a team PR experts, managers and financial advisers led
by an ex-politician and the wife of a construction tycoon, Gianna Aggelopoulos
Daskalaki. Mrs Daskalaki, or ‘Mrs 2004’ as she was called, known for her extrava-
gant lifestyle and her tendency to show off, suggested that ‘everybody should
be ready to open their wallets. And I don’t mean the sponsors’.6 Daskalaki was
clearly referring to the Greek government and the ‘wallets’ contained public
money. The government was more than willing to do so: in 1993 the social-
ist party (PASOK) had come to power. Prime Minister Costas Simitis had been
elected with the motto ‘modernisation’, a policy which was translated into mas-
sive public investments, which were ‘driving’ the country to have the highest
growth rates in the European Union. This overspending was supported by the
economic stability in the EU between the late 1990s and 2004, which allowed
Greece to take out loans at very low interest and ‘flood’ the Greek market with
massive amounts of public money. Within that context, the Olympic Games
were conceived as an opportunity to enhance that ‘modernisation’ policy and
keep the investments running. As a result, given the willingness of the Greek
government to open its own taxpayers’ wallets, the IOC was finally convinced
and Athens 2004 was added to the list of Olympic hosts.

The anti-2004 campaign

The first seeds of opposition to the Athens Olympic Games can be traced back
to the first bid in 1990. But the political and social situation did not allow
the debate to spread. Furthermore, Athens lost the Olympic Games to Atlanta
and the debate was left unfinished. The same social forces that gathered in
that first debate about the 1996 Games reconverged sometime in 1996, when
Athens decided to bid for the 2004 Olympics. The ‘Citizens’ Initiative against
the hosting of the Olympic Games in Athens’ was then founded, aiming to
oppose the Olympic bid and start a debate over the role and impact of the
Games. The members of the ‘Initiative’ participated in forums, open discus-
sions and expressed their opposition overtly, while most of the Greek popula-
tion was waiting, rather apathetically, for the IOC ‘verdict’. Their most notable
action, in this phase, was probably the submission to the IOC of an anti-bid
book, counter to the original bid, where they expressed their beliefs on the
actual urban and environmental impact and the cost of the possible Athens
Games. The group managed to recruit several distinguished personalities and
academics from Greece and became the only radical voice at a time of other-
wise absolute silence.
Although it did not make a huge impact, the ‘Initiative’ became the ideo-
logical predecessor of and set the foundation for the group which opposed the
538 Anti-Olympic Campaigns

2004 Athens Games, the ‘Anti-2004 Campaign’. The same people who opposed
the 1996 bid gathered again when Athens bid for the 2004 Games, along with
new members and groups from various backgrounds. When the IOC decided
to award the Games to Athens in 1997 the group entered a phase of intro-
spection and after several withdrawals and the recruitment of new members,
they continued to monitor the Olympic preparation. The campaign went on
towards the 2004 Olympics, facing restrictions and oppression, but managed
to make its mark through its actions and ideas. Beside the documentation and
other printed material that ‘Anti-2004’ produced, they organised four public
forums, many press conferences, and several marches in the centre of Athens,
as well as concerts and other happenings all around Greece. They also took part
in social forums around the world, meetings with local authorities and other
activities that had been organised by other bodies. The critique of the ‘Anti-
2004 Campaign’ against the Athens Olympics can be condensed into three key
issues: Olympic construction, democratic lack and economic issues.7

Olympic construction
The impact of the Olympic construction and of the wider regeneration, which
was required to host the Games and was proposed by the bid, was one of the
primary issues posed by the ‘Anti-2004 campaign’. The first objection, on this
issue, was that the proposed construction plan would lead to the further urban
expansion of an already overpopulated and environmentally degraded area.
In order to understand that problem, one has to bear in mind that Athens is
a very densely populated space. Its population is officially just over 3 million,
but the truth is that the actual one is estimated to be over 4.5 million – almost
half of the Greek population. The need for decentralisation of the capital had
become an issue a couple of decades earlier – when, from the 1961 to the 1981
censuses, the population of Athens almost doubled8 and this has been a fixed
aim for all Greek governments since then. The overpopulation, the extreme
urbanisation and the lack of free space in Athens, combined with other natural
disasters (fires, drought …) which are common in the Mediterranean, have all
rendered the area of Attica (the wider area surrounding Athens) environmen-
tally fragile.
The main line of the ‘Anti-2004’ arguments on this issue was that the 2004
construction plan was in breach of a Greek law, the ‘Athens Development
Plan’, and therefore the whole process was arbitrary and illegal. It would be use-
ful at this point to examine the content of that ‘Athens Development Plan’. As
previously stated, Athens, and the wider area of Attica, is a very densely popu-
lated and environmentally fragile area. The necessity of setting a framework of
rules and directions in the development of this area was a prominent issue for
the Greek authorities from the mid-1970s. The result of this procedure was the
‘Athens Development Plan’, which became a law in 1985. That Plan established
 Konstantinos Zervas 539

the following: ‘specific targets that are defined for the development of Athens’ wider
area in relation to a national level’:9

a) Stabilization of the population of the Athens conurbation, with the further inten-
tion of decreasing it.
b) Interception of the expansion of all economic activities in the capital by adopting
any necessary measures to divert any public and private investments to the Greek
regions by priority.
c) Emergence of Athens’ wider area as a national administrative centre of government
operations, with the simultaneous decentralization, to the regions, of all those services
that are not of an administrative level, or do not serve the wider area of Athens.

Of course the hosting of the Olympics was contrary to all the above direc-
tives. Apart from that, the Olympic preparation itself was full of controversies.
The campaigners posed a series of challenges to the majority of the Olympic
works, with regard either to the environment, the law, or even the working
conditions on the Olympic building sites. Briefly, on the environment, ‘Anti-
2004’ issued a report called Environmental Impact from the Olympic Games of
2004 in Athens, which was published by a leading Greek newspaper.10 It briefly
summarised certain consequences which specific Olympic works would have
for to the natural and cultural environment of Attica:

– Extension of residential areas to non-built and uninhabited areas;

– Decharacterisation of forested and highly productive farming land;
– Denaturation of landscapes along with new vehicular access, etc.

The document went on to provide examples of ‘environmental crimes’, as

they were characterised, caused by specific Olympic constructions. There was a
special reference to the Olympic Village, where, according to ‘Anti-2004’, nota-
ble scandals were occurring so that the area where it was built was exempted
from classification as ‘highly productive farming land’. And they added that
‘a new town of 10,000 residents, mostly consisting of multi-storey buildings,
was built in an area of 365 thousand square meters, on the edge of Athens’,
directly implying that it would definitely affect the already overcrowded Greek
capital. Other examples included the Olympic rowing centre, which was built
in the historic location of Marathon in a wildlife conservation area; the ‘clas-
sic Marathon way’ which seriously harmed the physical landscape; and the
‘Galatsi Arena’ which was built on a heavily forested site.

Democratic lack
The members of ‘Campaign Anti-2004’ cited on several occasions the demo-
cratic lack that was imposed by the 2004 organisers and the media before and
540 Anti-Olympic Campaigns

during the Athens Olympics. This serious accusation concerned two main
constituents of democracy in Greece: the state institutions and the press.
In the first case, several ‘Anti-2004’ members noted that the existing demo-
cratic institutions, which were plainly relevant to the Olympics, ‘turned a
blind eye’, or ceased to operate, in relation to the Games. An example of such
an institution was the State Council, an independent higher court which
monitors all laws and state decisions, and decides whether they are compatible
with the Constitution and the rights of citizens. Every Greek citizen has the
right to appeal to that court whenever s/he feels like it, and the council itself
can also make unsolicited interventions whenever there is a perceived threat
to human rights, to the environment and so on. But even that institution was
silenced in the name of the Olympics. There was a cancellation of everything
democratic, so that Olympic preparation could be accelerated within a context
of the extreme pressure on Greece exerted by the IOC and the worldwide press.
That meant that, because the Greek Olympic preparation was missing crucial
deadlines, the Greek government was being forced to speed things up. So,
whenever there was an appeal to a court on Olympic-related issues, instead of
following the legal procedure – which could take a long time – the cases were
closed precipitately.
Another dimension of ‘Anti-2004’ charges of democratic lack in relation to
state institutions was the increased policing that was imposed before and dur-
ing the Games. The Greek government spent billions on security, mobilising
the armed forces, military systems, even a Zeppelin to patrol from the Athenian
skies. The campaigners opposed systematically the militarisation of the police
and some of the practices that were adopted by the authorities in order to
monitor Olympic ‘dissidents’. The most furious demonstrations, though,
occurred when a plan to transfer the homeless and drug addicts from the centre
of Athens to a ‘camp’ in the suburbs became public.11 According to articles
published in newspapers and on the internet, the Greek authorities along with
the 2004 organisers were planning to ‘sweep’ the centre of Athens of all the
homeless and drug addicts who were roaming the streets, and transfer them to
a former NATO base on the outskirts of Athens, in the city of Aspropyrgos. The
members of ‘Anti-2004’, in a report they issued in 2004, characterised that plan
as ‘nazistic’ and called on the people to protest furiously against it.12 That plan
raised a great deal of opposition, not only from anti-Olympic campaigners, but
also from political parties, syndicates, even from the Mayor of Aspropyrgos,
who said that ‘we will not become the waste dump of Athens’13; it was eventually
abandoned under this enormous pressure.
‘Anti-2004’ members were desperately trying to be heard, but their argu-
ments never made it into the news. Any effort they made to start a debate over
the Olympics was futile. While there were media, outside Greece, carrying the
news on ‘Anti-2004’, within the country no one could hear it. The ‘embargo’
 Konstantinos Zervas 541

that was imposed by the media on any critical voice against 2004 was included
in the ‘evaluations and conclusions’ document of the Greek anti-Olympic
coalition as one of the key issues of the Athens Olympics. They noted that
‘self-censorship, instead of any kind of criticism, was the dominant trend even
among established journalists’. In order to support this view, the campaigners
presented, in that same document, two characteristic examples of news
censorship: On 20 July 2004, just weeks before the 2004 Games, ‘Campaign
Anti-2004’ organised a press conference outside the police headquarters in
Athens to report the extreme policing measures that had been imposed for the
Olympics. Despite the fact that all the major networks were present, not a word
was published or broadcast. The second example: on 27 August, the day of the
Athens 2004 closing ceremony, the American Secretary of State, Colin Powell,
visited Athens. The big demonstration that was staged that day, against the
USA and the Olympics, which was attacked by the police, was not mentioned
in the Greek news, although it was reported by foreign networks.

Economic issues
The great cost of Athens 2004 was another major issue of the campaign by
‘Anti-2004’. Although none of the members could figure out what was the
actual cost of hosting the 2004 Games – and actually, no Greek officials ever
arrived at a final figure – the campaign stressed in their conclusions four key
points on the finances of the Games:

a) The economic cost of the Games is beyond any control [it stood at
a2 billion – at that time], four times higher than the original planned
amount. Public spending, the country’s borrowing and the national debt
have risen to an all-time-high.
b) The economic and social gap between Athens and rest of the country has
widened excessively.
c) The cost of ‘security’ (the quotation marks are from the actual text) of the
Games has exceeded the expenditure for any previous Olympics, six times
higher than Sydney 2000 and 30 times more than Atlanta. The Olympic
Games of Athens have been transformed into a giant and extravagant war
operation, carefully camouflaged: constant flights of radar-planes, AWACS
[Airborne Warning and Control Systems], police helicopters, a Zeppelin,
warships, navy seals, PATRIOT missiles and an extremely expensive tracking
system called C-4I. It must be noted that this system, C-4I, was later linked
to the ‘Siemens bribery scandal’14 and that, although it was bought, it never
became operational before being scrapped in 2010.15
d) Everything surrounding the Olympic Games was a big scam: from the bribes
totalling a1 billion to the monstrous wages of Athens 2004 officials; from
the ‘gifts’ of public land to private companies and ‘national benefactors’,
542 Anti-Olympic Campaigns

so that they could make investments, to the construction of ‘Pharaohic’

sporting facilities on free open space.

By the time ‘Anti-2004’ issued that report in February 2004, it was believed
that the cost of the Games could, as noted, reach a2 billion, much higher than
the initial plan. Instead, it went much higher, as the official figure that was
released by Athens 2004 was approximately a12 billion, without including
some of the constructions that were not exclusively Olympic. The less optimis-
tic estimate came to more than a20 billion,16 but in any case, the actual figure
is very hard to calculate, even several years after the Games. What is more
important is that with an initial bid of a1.2 billion that would generate a direct
profit of a30 million,17 Athens 2004 budget exceeded even the worst scenario.
The ‘Anti-2004’ arguments on the economic impact of the Athens Olympics
were not restricted to overspending and the waste of public money, which were,
in any event, well known by all Greeks. The campaign argued (as noted in point
d) that the finance of the 2004 Olympics was a big scam, pointing the finger at
specific politicians and businessmen who directly benefited from the Games.
Furthermore, the members of ‘Anti-2004’ did not confine themselves to words
and accusations. They sued ‘Athens 2004’ and its president G. Daskalaki for
several economic irregularities that occurred before and during 2004 Olympics.
Briefly, that legal action contained certain evidence that proved: ‘Commissions
of Olympic works to relatives and friends of officials and employers of “Athens
2004”’; ‘Scandalous competitions of bids for the Olympic works’; ‘Continuous and
by fraudulence waste of public money’, and more.18

The Anti-2004 campaign’s contribution

The members of the ‘Anti-2004 campaign’ challenged the Olympic Games
of 2004 on a wide range of issues. Apart from the pragmatic opposition to
certain aspects of the Olympic preparation, or to the choices made by the
Greek government and ‘Athens 2004’, the campaign members had serious
objections in principle to the bringing of the Olympics to Athens. That was,
probably, the most fundamental of all the opposition points, as it questioned
an idea which had been promoted as a ‘national goal’ by Greek governments
for many years.
Panos Totsikas, the leading figure of ‘Anti-2004’, gave his account of the
reasons behind the two Greek bids (1996 and 2004):

The reason that we had was a monstrous nationalistic fantasy. The important
reason was that Greece bid for the golden Olympics of 1996, thinking that this
glory would help the bourgeois and would give the impression that Greece is
evolving, Greece is strong. This is a rationale that puts the nation, the moth-
erland, first; so the reasons were idealistic, fantasies . . . for sure behind this
 Konstantinos Zervas 543

pretence Greek capital was watching for an opportunity to gain money, as it

happened . . . So the reason was dual: on one hand, the profit of Greek capital
and, on the other, the general ideological cover.19

And despite the fact that this framing of the event was so shaky, most of
the population accepted it and backed the bid. So, for Totsikas, the reasons
behind Athens 2004 were primarily opportunistic: for Greek ‘capital’ to gain
more money. This idea of the Olympics’ dual function: to generate money for
some, while acting as a cover for the rest, is not new. Several academics who
have done research on the Olympic phenomenon have noted that dual func-
tion,20 but in Greece’s case that controversial duplicity reached the levels of
a ‘cultural scandal’. Because of the ‘special’ relation of ancient Greece to the
Olympics – by being the place of their birth – within the Greek popular tradi-
tion the Games were always being considered as a part of Greek culture. Despite
the fact that the nature of the modern Olympics is far from that perception,
the idea of ‘Olympic revival’ created an enormous nationalistic upsurge among
Greeks, which hid the fact that Greece probably could not afford the Games.
At the same time, ‘capital’, in Totsikas’ words, saw an enormous opportunity
of redistribution of public funds.
‘Campaign anti-2004’ members, soon after the closing of the Athens Olympic
Games at the end of August 2004, issued a collective document summarising
their actions and evaluating the impact of the Olympic Games. The document,
called ‘Evaluations and Conclusions from the Athens’ Olympic Games’ (2004),
contains a brief self-evaluation of the actions of the group. In this text, the
members of ‘Anti-2004’ acknowledged the difficulties of such an attempt – to
oppose such an established event as the Olympic Games – and set out a large
number of problems and issues which had been caused by the hosting of the
Olympic Games. Despite the difficulties and the restrictions, the members of
‘Anti-2004’ claim that through their actions, they finally managed to make a
difference in the following areas:

• They prevented the urbanisation of further or wider areas of Attica due to

the construction of the Olympic venues;
• They intercepted the ‘wave’ of deadly industrial accidents which occurred at
the Olympic constructions, and the purge of stray animals;
• They inhibited the imposition of a police-state atmosphere by the govern-
ment, in the name of the Olympic Games, and the expulsion of specific
categories of population from Athens city centre (the homeless, drug addicts
and others).

In the conclusion to this report the members of ‘Anti-2004’ argued that

despite the fact that the campaign would cease its activities in short while,
544 Anti-Olympic Campaigns

a new debate ought to open, about the ‘city’ and the creation of an intervention
group on the basis of ‘Anti-2004’ ideology. The writers, finally, reminded
Greeks that there were still open issues arising from the hosting of Athens
2004 and set the list of aims for the post-2004 period, which, among others,
included the criminalisation of those responsible for the ‘Olympic pillage’ and
the prevention of Olympic venues’ privatisation, and concluded: ‘Any reform
and contribution that was made to the initial plans happened because of the
movement against the Olympics.’21

The 2004 legacy and the crisis of 2010

Six years after the Olympic Games of 2004 the Greek economy collapsed. In
2010, with a national debt of around a300 billion (130 per cent of its GDP) and
a deficit of nearly 14 per cent, Greece faced the danger of bankruptcy and was
forced to appeal to the International Monetary Fund (IMF) for a loan. The IMF,
in order to release the loan to Greece, asked for a series of very strict austerity
measures, which targeted mostly middle and low-income citizens. These meas-
ures created a huge wave of social unrest in Greece and led to one of the worst
economic and social crises that the country had ever faced. This Greek economic
crisis was triggered partly by the global crisis following the collapse of the US
real estate market. But as the EU, the IMF and the Greek government have all
acknowledged, it was mainly the result of the unrestrained overspending of
Greece in the two previous decades, which had expanded the country’s debt.
In this critical situation, Greek politicians, journalists and other officials
opened a debate over which actions had caused that dramatic decline of
the Greek economy. But, bizarrely, the Olympic Games were left out of the
discussion, as if they had had nothing to do with the dispersal of public money,
the scandals or the injudicious investments that had brought the country close
to economic collapse. Even those who spoke about ‘lost Olympic opportuni-
ties’ and questioned how Greece had plummeted ‘from the glory of 2004’ to
‘the disastrous 2010’ could not join the dots and at least examine whether the
Olympics of 2004 had played any part in that catastrophe.
However, in an article called ‘Did 2004 Olympics spark Greek Financial Crisis?’
published by the Associated Press, the author suggested that the overspend-
ing of Greece, which is responsible for the crisis, started with the 2004 Athens
Olympics. The article made special reference to the budget of the Games,
which was more than double the initial estimate, and to the numerous
Olympic venues that now stood vacant and of limited use. Overspending and
‘white elephants’: two quite common issues that appear in the wake of most
big sporting events. To make the debate more interesting, the article carried the
comments of IOC President Jacques Rogge, who told the Associated Press that
linking the Greek crisis to the Olympics was ‘unfair’ and added: ‘Had Athens
still been outmoded, the economy would have been much worse probably than
 Konstantinos Zervas 545

it is today.’22 So, according to Rogge, the Olympic Games did not spark the
Greek financial crisis, but instead, helped to make the situation better. Rogge’s
argument would only have validity if the Olympics had created any kind of
economic development, but the truth is they didn’t: after 2004, the growth
rate of Greece started falling, the Olympic investments were either now useless
(as with security), or had not delivered (as with many of the facilities which
were now white elephants). Furthermore, with the cost of the Athens Olympics
now officially estimated at a11.27 billion (while unofficial sources raised it to
around a20 to a30 billion), around five times higher than the initial number
(a2 billion), the Olympic organisers were proclaiming that the profits from the
growth of tourism and investments the years after 2004 would outweigh the
initial estimated cost. But the tourism exchange from 2000 to 2009 went from
a10 billion to a10.3 billion, while foreign investors probably had turned to
more competitive countries in the Balkans. When in 2008 the global crisis hit
Greece, the Olympics had contributed nothing but debts.
Even with the numbers proving otherwise, Rogge’s assessment that 2004 had
nothing to do with the crisis remains quite popular in Greece. Panos Totsikas,
the leading figure of ‘Anti-2004 Campaign’, in a press article published on
17 March 2010, a month before Greece signed the agreement with the IMF,
acknowledged that the cost of 2004 was a taboo subject for Greece and added:

In Montreal, Canada they did not hide the fact that the Olympic Games for
them were a catastrophe. They still pay … In Greece the fact that the down-
swing of country’s economy starts a few years before 2004 and peaks today
is carefully withheld. The supposed ‘high growth rates’, the low unemploy-
ment percentages of previous years cannot hide the true ‘legacy’ of 2004
Olympic Games in Athens, the reality of deficits, of unrestrained loans.23

The post-2004 reality, as presented by this ‘Anti-2004 campaign’ member,

was undermining the myth of Olympic legacy promoted by the Greek govern-
ment and traditionally by the IOC. Yet, the numbers and the economic reality
of post-Olympic Greece were vindicated by the assessments and the reports
made by ‘Anti-2004’ during their campaign; of overspending, unregulated
financial control and scandalous investments. If the Olympics had made even
the slightest contribution to Greek economic growth, the economic meltdown
would not have been so profound. The Greek economic crisis of 2010 was not
the result of Athens 2004, but it is definitely the case that Athens 2004 was a
decisive step towards the 2010 crisis. And the only reason why no one dared to
link the Olympics to the crisis, apart from those who were against Athens 2004,
is because they are the same people – politicians, journalists, financial and
sporting experts – who cheered so profoundly for the return of the Olympics
to Athens.
546 Anti-Olympic Campaigns

Conclusion

Summing up the arguments of the Olympic campaigners through the years we

can come up with a simple rationalisation: the problem of the Olympic Games
is that they are not anthropocentric. They are simply ‘a vast commercial circus’
which brings considerable profits only to the organisers and the promoters who
provide the finance.24 According to Jean-Marie Brohm, the Olympics, from the
1970s, were entirely integrated into world capitalism, providing ‘not sport for its
own sake, but sport for capitalist profit’. And as a global spectacle, Brohm con-
cluded that ‘… capital puts over its most extravagant image throughout a world
in which whole populations suffer from illiteracy, famine and poverty’.25
How applicable are Brohm’s words 25 years on, and how many things have
changed regarding the Olympics to make them more anthropocentric? The
only visible progress is that the Olympic ‘brand’ has burgeoned. The cost of
staging the Games has risen dramatically, the commercialisation of the Games
has been expanded and the number of people affected by this massive circus
is rising every four years. Yet the demand to host the Olympics is growing
ever stronger. The race to host the Olympics has become a power competition
between the wealthiest countries and the rising superpowers to prove their
position on the global stage. It seems as if the Olympic motto ‘Citius, Altius,
Fortius’, proposed by the founder of the modern Olympics, Pierre de Coubertin,
has found its application in the arena of a new imperialistic antagonism, ‘faster
growth, higher profits, stronger economies’.
But, still, where do the IOC and Olympic organisers’ proclamations of sus-
tainability and legacy fit with all these ambitions? For a sporting event that
lasts for two weeks, costs dearly and involves prime ministers, presidents and
royalty, there must be something left for the people. And that is where the great
hoax is: without any kind of sustainability left behind, the Olympic Games are
only a beauty contest between countries; they are only a commodity owned
by the IOC. Without sustainability the whole rhetoric behind the Olympics
is empty. Public money is spent in vain and the huge profits made by private
companies and the IOC are not for a good cause. There must be something.
But, why don’t we see it?
The study of the Olympic phenomenon through the prism of anti-Olympic
activism has shown the unwillingness of the IOC to change and the corres-
ponding reluctance of the hosting societies to take part in that change. The
only viable solution would be an Olympic revolution, either internal or external.
The internal revolution would be a complete reform of the IOC and of the
Olympic Games towards a less commercialised, less wealth-centred structure.
Several academics have discussed how that could be possible (a permanent
venue, a different IOC composition). And since that solution would not serve
the demands and ideas of the IOC members and is probably utopian, an
external revolution against the Olympics that would target their reform, or
 Konstantinos Zervas 547

their cancellation, is the only choice. The isolated attempts at dissent against
the Olympic industry have been surprisingly successful so far, as this study of
Olympic activism has demonstrated. The thing that remains to be achieved
is an organised global network against the Olympics that would be able to
directly engage with the IOC, act and monitor. And the tools for bringing that
project together are available to everyone through the internet.

Notes
1. Jennings, The New Lords of the Rings; Simson and Jennings, The Lords of the Rings;
Shaw, Five Ring Circus: Myths and Realities of the Olympic Games; Lenskyj, Olympic
Industry Resistance: Challenging Olympic Power and Propaganda; Lenskyj, The Best
Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of Sydney 2000; Lenskyj, Inside the Olympic Industry,
Power, Politics, and Activism.
2. Lenskyj, Olympic Industry Resistance.
3. Shaw, Five Ring Circus, 273, 274.
4. Lenskyj, Inside the Olympic Industry; Guttmann, The Olympics, a History of the Modern
Games.
5. Shaw, Five Ring Circus.
6. Daskalaki, ‘How to Convince the Immortals’.
7. Anti-2004 Campaign (2004) ‘Evaluations and Conclusions from Athens’ Olympic
Games, a Collective Document’.
8. National Statistical Service (of Greece), www.statistics.gr.
9. MINENV, Athens Development Plan.
10. Eleutherotypia, ‘Environmental Impact from the Olympic Games of 2004 in Athens’.
11. Eleutherotypia, ‘Concentration Camp for Refugees’.
12. Anti-2004, ‘Evaluations and Conclusions from Athens’ Olympic Games’.
13. Eleutherotypia, ‘Environmental Impact’.
14. Guardian Unlimited, ‘Record US Fine Ends Siemens Bribery Scandal’.
15. Thema, ‘Vougias rejects receiving C4I’.
16. www.indymedia.org.
17. Greek Embassy, ‘Cost of Athens 2004 Olympics’.
18. Anti-2004, ‘Evaluations and Conclusions from Athens’ Olympic Games’.
19. Totsikas, ‘The “Legacy” of 2004’; Panos Totsikas was interviewed as part of my PhD
research on 12 June 2008.
20. Brohm, Sport – A Prison of Measured Time; Houlihan, Sport and International Politics;
Lenskyj, Inside the Olympic Industry; Shaw, Five Ring Circus.
21. Anti-2004, ‘Evaluations and Conclusions from Athens’ Olympic Games’.
22. Gatopoulos, ‘Did 2004 Olympics Spark Greek Financial Crisis?’.
23. Totsikas (2010) ‘The “Legacy” of 2004’, 12.
24. Brohm, Sport – A Prison of Measured Time, 172.
25. Ibid., 173.

References
Anti-2004 Campaign (2004) ‘Evaluations and Conclusions from Athens’ Olympic Games,
a Collective Document’, in P. Totsikas (ed.), The Other Side of Olympics 2004: Masterless
Views for Athens and the Olympic Games of 2004 (Athens: K⌿M).
548 Anti-Olympic Campaigns

Brohm, J.-M. (1978) Sport – A Prison of Measured Time (London: Pluto Press).
Daskalaki, G. A. (1997) ‘How to Convince the Immortals’, Eleutherotypia, 8 March, 7.
Eleutherotypia (2004a) ‘Environmental Impact from the Olympic Games of 2004 in
Athens’, 27 August, 12.
Eleutherotypia (2004b) ‘Concentration Camp for Refugees’, Eleutherotypia, available at:
www.enet.gr/?i=news.el.article&id=51282 (accessed 12 March 2008).
Gatopoulos, D. (2010) ‘Did 2004 Olympics Spark Greek Financial Crisis?’, Associated
Press, available at: www.businessinsider.com/did-2004-olympics-spark-greek-financial-
crisis-2010-6 (accessed 4 October 2011).
Giannakidis, K. (2010) ‘The Chance That Was Lost’, protagon.gr, at: www.protagon.
gr/?i=protagon.el.article&id=3089 (accessed 22 November 2010).
Greek Embassy (2004) ‘Cost of Athens 2004 Olympics’, at: www.greekembassy.org/Embassy/
content/en/Article.aspx?office=3&folder=200&article=14269 (accessed 19 May 2009).
Guardian Unlimited (2008) ‘Record US Fine Ends Siemens Bribery Scandal’, 16 December,
at: www.guardian.co.uk/business/2008/dec/16/regulation-siemens-scandal-bribery
(accessed 29 May 2009).
Guttmann, A. (2002) The Olympics, A History of the Modern Games, 2nd edition (Champaign:
University of Illinois Press).
Houlihan, B. (1994) Sport and International Politics (Hemel Hempstead: Harvester Press).
Imerisia (2009) ‘How We “Blew” the Great Opportunity of the Olympic Games’, Imerisia
online, at: www.imerisia.gr/article.asp?catid=14067&subid=2&pubid=324234 (accessed
22 November 2010).
Indymedia (2004) ‘The Relocation of Homeless, Drug Addicts and Beggars Has Started
for the Olympic Games’, Athens Indymedia, at: http://athens.indymedia.org/front.
php3?lang=el&article_id=232606 (accessed 12 May 2009).
Jennings, A. (1996) The New Lords of the Rings (London: Simon & Shuster).
Lenskyj, H. (2000) Inside the Olympic Industry, Power, Politics, and Activism (Albany: State
University of New York Press).
Lenskyj, H. (2002) The Best Olympics Ever? Social Impacts of Sydney 2000 (Albany: State
University of New York Press).
Lenskyj, H. (2008) Olympic Industry Resistance: Challenging Olympic Power and Propaganda
(Albany: State University of New York Press).
MINENV (2007) Athens Development Plan, Ministry for the Environment, Physical
Planning and Public Works. at: www.minenv.gr/3/31/313/31303/g3130305.html
(accessed 18 June 2007).
National Statistical Service (of Greece) www.statistics.gr (accessed 1 March 2011).
Shaw, C. (2008) Five Ring Circus: Myths and Realities of the Olympic Games (Vancouver:
New Society).
Simson, V. and A. Jennings (1992) The Lords of the Rings (Toronto: Stoddart).
Thema (2010) ‘Vougias rejects receiving C4I’, To Proto Thema, at: www.protothema.gr/
greece/article/?aid=66419 (accessed 7 June 2010).
Totsikas, P. (2010) ‘The “Legacy” of 2004’, Eleutherotypia, 17 March, 12.
Part V
The Olympics: For and Against
34
The Olympics: Why We Should
Value Them
Ian Henry

Preface

I have accepted the invitation to write this chapter with guarded enthusiasm.
My enthusiasm is a product not simply of an intrinsic interest in the project,
but also of course in the subject matter, since like many writers on Olympic
and sporting matters, whether proponents or critics (or both), I am a sports fan.
My guardedness is a product of a recognition of the need to balance involve-
ment and detachment in an Eliasian sense in relation to the subject matter.1
Not only am I a fan but I work in a system in which commentators such as
Kevin Wamsley2 point out that:

A handful of scholars promote the idea of Olympism through their work

at conferences, through research and writing, in the classroom. Essentially
they suggest the Olympic project is worthwhile, the Olympic ideal is some-
thing tangible, and there is hope that the Olympic Games can create a better
world . . .

And that for many there is a vested interest in supporting such ideas:

Without question, during the twentieth century thousands of athletes,

coaches, spectators, even academics have benefited from their experiences,
travel and fame or association with the Olympic project.

There is perhaps more than a hint in Wamsley’s claims here that the judgment
of those who defend the value or values of Olympism or the Olympic machine
may be clouded by, at best naiveté, and at worst, self-interest. I therefore
consider it appropriate to begin by indicating something of my own stand-
point. I am currently the director of an Olympic Studies and Research Centre
which is a partnership between the British Olympic Foundation (effectively

551
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
552 The Olympics: Why We Should Value Them

the National Olympic Committee’s charitable and educational wing) and the
university in which I am employed. Of course in such arrangements critical
independence needs to be safeguarded (independence that is from pressures
emanating from within the Olympic movement, or from within the university
for that matter). The mechanism we adopted in setting up the Centre to guard
against such pressures was to reflect in our governance agreement the fun-
damental tenet that authors or researchers who work on projects within the
ambit of the Centre are expressing their own views (not those of the ‘Centre’)
and that neither the Centre nor the university should be in a position to limit
freedom of expression. Indeed the BOF and the Olympic movement more
broadly does not provide financial support for the Centre, which is self-funded
on the basis of research income from research councils, and governmental
and non-governmental bodies (including Olympic bodies). It might be argued
that researchers who rely on income from bodies which commission research
would be unlikely to voice critical commentary. We leave those who might
wish to make such judgments to consider our work. However our aim is not
simply to engage uncritically in the discourse(s) about the ‘ideals’ of Olympism
to the detriment of critical discourses about Olympism. Our approach is one
of critical engagement with Olympic actors, whether this is at IOC level or at
the level of grassroots projects, seeking to leverage benefits from the staging of
the Games, and engaging with Olympic debates. This then is the background
against which my commentary in the rest of this chapter is made.
One final but important preliminary comment is that this penultimate
chapter has been written without reference on the part of the author to the
other chapters provided in this book. The chapter does not therefore engage in
debate about the arguments put forward earlier in this text, and should not be
taken as a response to the arguments put forward by my fellow authors.

Introduction

Like any informed reader I am intensely aware of the failings of some of the
individuals and entities associated with the Games. Bidding scandals, environ-
mental problems and waste, political abuses, athlete/coach/management
cheating and drug abuse, economic mismanagement, and the bearing of local
costs by the most vulnerable, these are undeniably issues which have to be
addressed, and which have had a profoundly negative effect on the legitimacy
of the Olympic movement. However, I approach such matters in seeking to
identify the conditions under which such opportunities for abuses can be
negated and to define ways in which the product of Olympic activity can
be used for positive gains. In short, for me the glass is half full.
I contrast this approach with that of some colleagues who, adopting a
sincerely held, critical position to the Games, indicate that regardless of any
 Ian Henry 553

changes to policy that might be made, none would satisfy them sufficiently to
allow them to feel able to support the staging of the Games. In such circum-
stance there are by definition no conditions under which those holding this
position would be willing to accept that the staging of an Olympic Games is
acceptable.
This position put me in mind of the debate about the old Marxist claim in
relation to the capitalist state being a fatally flawed institution since it always
acts in the interests of capital and to the detriment of working-class inter-
ests. Opponents of the Marxist position would argue that there were clearly
occasions in which the state acted in the interests of the working class as, for
example, when the state taxed the wealthy to meet the costs of subsidised serv-
ices. Here the Marxists would argue in reply that such ‘progressive’ taxation was
introduced in order to protect the interests of capital by ensuring that social
stability was not threatened by the distance between rich and poor in terms of
life chances. Taken to its logical extreme this means that no action by the state
(other than the rather unlikely action of the state overthrowing the capitalist
system) would count as evidence, a counterexample, which would allow us to
reject the claim that the state always acts in the interests of capital. Any seem-
ingly progressive action could simply be explained away as buying off working-
class compliance with a system that allowed capital to continue to exploit its
position. At this point it becomes impractical for Marxists and non-Marxists to
engage in debate rather than taking entrenched positions. In the same manner
the position of those opposed to staging the Games literally under any circum-
stances regardless of any specific conditions means that there is every likelihood
that we will ‘talk past’ one another rather than critically engaging.
Thus armed with the knowledge that for some critics I may never produce
an account which can challenge their view that the Olympic movement is
inevitably fatally flawed, I set out on my quest.

Six significant dimensions of the arguments for the costs

and benefits of the Olympic Games/movement

In considering the case for the Olympic Games we will begin with a statement
of why and in what ways the Olympic movement and its core activity, the
Olympic Games, are important. This can perhaps be best summarised along six
dimensions, cultural, political, economic, social, environmental and sporting.
Consideration of these dimensions provides arguments both for and against
the wisdom of staging the Games.

a) The cultural dimension

The cultural importance of the Games is evidenced in the claim by the IOC
on the basis of ‘independent’ market assessments that the Olympic Games is
554 The Olympics: Why We Should Value Them

the most watched cultural event in the world. Nielsen Intelligence claimed in
2008 that 4.7 billion people watched some element of the Beijing Games from
a world population of 6.5 billion with 94 per cent of the Chinese and South
Korean, and 93 per cent of the Mexican viewing population tuning in. Much
of the focus of interest is on the cultural events accompanying the Games
(in particular the Opening Ceremony, which tends to attract the highest
viewing figures) rather than on the sports events themselves. As Maurice Roche
points out, the Games punctuate our existence (at least in peacetime) in regular
four-year intervals in ways which provide a regular ‘chrono-cultural’ framework
to our lives. Indeed Roche suggests that the enduring popularity of the Games
derives from the significant positive and adaptive roles they continue to play
in relation to the interpersonal and public structuring of time.3 Major events,
in particular the Olympic Games, become part of a shared cultural memory,
one which may be in part positive, in part negative, but which is undeniably
significant.
We take the Games to be cultural in the sense of reproducing and/or
challenging meanings. Sometimes this is overt, as for example when sport is con-
sciously used to promote particular political ideologies, perhaps most famously
in the case of the Berlin Games of 1936, but also in the case of East German,
Soviet and Cuban uses of sport to promote a positive view of their regimes, or
indeed the use by business interests in the cases of Los Angeles and Atlanta to
promote a positive view of what can be achieved in a liberal economy. Indeed
the Olympic TOP sponsors literally buy into an association of their brands with
aspects of the cultural meanings of the Games and the Olympic movement.
Cultural meanings (positive and negative) are also conveyed unconsciously
within the system, in, for example, messages in relation to gender, ethnicity,
religion and so on. In terms of race and geo-political contexts, the sports
embraced by the Olympic movement and the governance of these sports (and
of the IOC itself) are dominated by Western Europe and the United States.
Non-Western sport forms are rarely embraced by the Olympic movement and
it is clear that Coubertin from the outset had a particular vision of imposing
a Eurocentric model of Olympic sport on non-European peoples. The Summer
Games have incorporated only two non-Western sports, judo and taekwondo,
but more recent attempts to introduce wushu in Beijing’s unsuccessful bid to
host the 2000 Games engendered significant opposition.5,6 The growing impor-
tance of the Olympic movement and its recognised sports (and their implicit
promotion in, for example, Olympic Solidarity funding programs) has also
militated against the promotion, and, some would say has helped to threaten
the survival, of indigenous sports and games. The Eurocentric nature of the
Olympic movement is also reflected in its leadership since all but one of the
eight IOC presidents have come from Western Europe, while the exception,
Avery Brundage, was an American.
 Ian Henry 555

In terms of gender, since Coubertin’s initial opposition to female participation

in the Games, women’s participation has grown with accelerated efforts on the
part of the IOC to foster greater equity in this respect (the proportion of female
athletes participating in the Games has not yet reached 50 per cent but grew
from 14.2 per cent in 1968 in Mexico City, to 25.8 per cent in 1988 in Seoul, to
42 per cent in Beijing in 2008). However not all signs are positive in respect of
gender. Some sports, most notably beach volleyball, have rules which specify,
for example, the wearing of particular types and shapes of clothing requiring
the exposure of flesh to allow the sport to be ‘media friendly’ but which are
culturally insensitive to the requirements of modesty for many Muslim women
and others.7 Recently FIFA made a ruling in relation to the women’s football
tournament of the first Youth Olympic Games which forbade the wearing of
the headscarf by the Iranian female football team. This ruling was however
subsequently, and fairly promptly, reversed on appeal by the Iranian Football
Federation.8,9
A more marked phenomenon than underrepresentation of women in sports
participation is that of female underrepresentation in executive decision-making
in Olympic bodies. While the IOC has made efforts to address this issue by
introducing minimum targets for the proportion of women on the Boards and
Executive Committees of these bodies, nevertheless it has remained a stubbornly
difficult problem to resolve.10 Nevertheless the IOC has continued to generate
action in relation to women’s election to key positions in Olympic bodies.
The cultural messages conveyed by the Games and Olympic bodies can thus
be problematic. However attempts to use the opportunity of the Games posi-
tively have been employed, a recent example being in the London bid to stage
the 2012 Games which celebrated the city’s multicultural make-up as part of
its bid. The London team in its presentation to the IOC in Singapore in July
2005 included a significant delegation of young pupils from the five ‘Olympic
Boroughs’, reflecting the local cultural diversity of the population. This was a
visual reinforcement of the argument made by the bid team that the Games as
a global event was most appropriately staged in a multicultural city like London
which ‘welcomed integration’ and would use the Games to enhance social cohe-
sion. By implication this message also made capital out of the ‘assimilationist’
philosophy11 evident in the rival bidding city of Paris.12 Thus while it might be
true that the Olympic Games, and for that matter the Paralympic Games, can
convey negative meanings and messages13 this is not necessarily the case, and
conscious use of Olympic phenomena as vehicles for progressive ideas in rela-
tion to gender and race in particular have at least been attempted.

b) The economic dimension

In economic terms it has been clear since the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics
that there is potentially considerable financial value in hosting the Games.
556 The Olympics: Why We Should Value Them

Of course the model on which the LA 1984 Games was built was one which
emphasised private-sector funding and the use of existing rather than new,
purpose-built facilities, a model which has not been fully emulated since.14
The closest attempt to follow this model was unsurprisingly that of Atlanta,
though this was deemed to be something of a problematic Summer Games.15
In most Olympic Games since 1984 new-build facilities have predominated,
resulting in considerable overspends, and in cases such as Sydney, Athens and
London there have been problems in attracting the projected levels of private
investment.16,17 Post-Games under-utilisation is also a product of the new-build
approach.
In relation to the economic impact of the games Holger Preuss’s account of
the effects of hosting the Games is perhaps the most comprehensive.18 Preuss
seeks to identify, for previous editions of the Games, how costs and benefits to
the host city should be conceptualised and measured. His analysis takes
account not simply of the positive stimuli on demand in terms of consumption
and investment, it also highlights the displacement or crowding out of invest-
ment and consumption. Preuss underlines the fact that in almost all cases the
costs of staging the Games is much greater than originally calculated. This has
proved to be the case in, for example, London, where the original capital costs
for the staging of the Games were calculated as £2.4 billion. In 2003 these had
increased to close to £9.4 billion when reported in response to a parliamentary
question in 2007.19
The issue of what should count as ‘Olympic expenditure’ (as opposed, to
expenditure which took place at the point of the Games) is critical. Some
projects such as transport or housing may well be investments that should and
would have been made regardless of whether the Games were staged or not. In
London, for example, the five Olympic Boroughs represent some of the poorest
communities and some of the most environmentally degraded areas in the
country. They represented the only remaining parts of London, for example, to
have above-ground electricity pylons and power lines. Such costs as the bury-
ing of power lines should not be attributed to the Olympic budget. These types
of investment have already been made in other communities because of local
needs and without reference to an event such as the staging of an Olympics.
Similarly provision of high-speed transport links between central London and
this deprived area of the metropolis should not be included in the costs attri-
buted to the Games. As Preuss points out:20

According to [Preuss’s] decision-making model … for differentiating between

Games-related and non-Games related costs for facilities used during the
Olympics, an OCOG should only have to cover the costs for temporary
facilities, overlay and rent.
 Ian Henry 557

Indeed, when calculation of the costs of hosting the Games is limited in this
way to direct expenditure, Preuss argues that most recent host cities have made
a profit from staging the Games.
Of course regardless of the health of the bottom line of the balance sheet it
may well be the case that any costs fall disproportionately on one group while
benefits accrue to another. Blake,21 for example, in estimating the economic
impact of the 2012 Games for the UK, calculates that while there may be an
overall positive impact nationally of £2 billion, this represented a very positive
impact for the London Region of £6 billion while other Home Countries and
Regions would experience a negative impact of £4 billion collectively.

c) The political dimension

The political significance to the host nation of staging the Games has been
widely recognised, and in particular since the 1936 Berlin Olympics. Indeed
the somewhat controversial decision to award the 2008 Games to Beijing was
regarded by some as having echoes of the Berlin decision, though the issue of
China’s Human rights record is of a completely different order to that which
resulted in the Holocaust. It is clearly the case that from a Western standpoint
on human rights (and indeed from what Western commentators would regard
as a universal standpoint) China has failed to respect human rights. I have
no intention here of defending the Chinese position though I do regard it as
important that one should familiarise oneself with the Chinese case if one is
to make an informed critique of China’s performance in this field (for such an
account from a Western perspective see, for example, Gerald Chan’s review).22
Some Olympic apologists pointed, somewhat hopefully, in the run-up to the
Beijing Games to the rather opaque allusion made by the Chair of the Bidding
Committee and Mayor of Beijing that winning the right to host the Games
would ‘further development of our human rights cause’23 and indeed there was
some opening up of access to regions which had previously been off-limits to
Western media. The Games, it was claimed, might serve to make China more
sensitive to criticism of its human rights record and thus likely to behave more
‘ethically’ in Western terms. This hope faded when protests by various groups,
most notably those from or on behalf of Tibet, the Uighur Muslim population
of the Xinjiang Autonomous Region and the Falun Gong, were met with a swift
and occasionally brutal response.24 Thus, while it is certainly the case that huge
change did not occur perhaps the most that could be claimed is that without
the spotlight of the media being upon China an even more harsh response
might have been adopted.
However while China’s human rights record attracted protests in a range of
international settings, most notably during the Olympic Torch relay, had the
Games been about to take place in leading Western nations similar protests might
558 The Olympics: Why We Should Value Them

have been anticipated. The United States and Britain had attracted considerable
opprobrium for what was widely seen as an illegal war in Iraq, and for the infringe-
ment of human rights in respect of holding prisoners without trial (Guantanamo
Bay) and for the torture of such prisoners (for example in Abu Ghraib).
If then it becomes difficult to identify nations with an untainted record in
respect of human rights, should we discontinue the Games? Rather than seeing
the Games as rewarding the poor record of China, Britain or the US in respect
of human rights, these events might be seen as an opportunity to raise the
profile of such criticisms in the public arena.
In relation to the domestic political context, decisions about whether to bid
for the Games are required by the IOC to reflect local public opinion. In 2002,
for example, Berne withdrew its bid to stage the 2010 Winter Olympics follow-
ing a negative vote in a local referendum.25 In most political systems, however,
opinion polls are employed (with the IOC commissioning its own independent
polls) to demonstrate majority support. An active and sizeable lobby group can
be effective in mobilising sufficient opposition to the bid, as was the case for
example in Toronto’s bid to host the 2008 Games.26
The Games and the Olympic movement are however politically important
to nation states in promoting their identity and legitimacy. The scramble by
new NOCs in the first wave of decolonisation in Africa and Asia in the 1960s
and 1970s, and the subsequent decolonisation of the former Soviet repub-
lics or the Pacific Island states in the 1990s to gain recognition by the IOC
bears testimony to the political significance of becoming part of the Olympic
movement. Recognition by the United Nations and by the IOC seem to be the
twin pillars of political and cultural legitimacy most immediately sought by
newly independent nation states.

d) The social dimension

The staging of the Games certainly has implications for the uneven dispersal
of social and economic costs and benefits. One of the difficulties to be faced is
that even where a majority may support the bid, the costs of making the bid
fall disproportionately on some of the more vulnerable groups. The United
Nations Human Rights Council makes this clear in a report on the impact
of mega-events on local housing and the displacement of populations.27 The
Centre for Housing Rights and Evictions (COHRE) based in Geneva claims
in a report on housing rights that the Olympic Games have displaced more
than two million people in the last 20 years, disproportionately affecting the
homeless, the poor and minorities such as Roma and African Americans,28 and
concludes with a range of recommendations to be adopted by bodies such as
the IOC and host cities responsible for staging the Games.
Of course insensitive application of development projects is not a phenom-
enon restricted to the case of the Olympics, nor is the possibility of applying
 Ian Henry 559

good practice unfeasible for Olympic developers. However, it may well be the
case that insensitive planning and implementation is fostered by the relatively
rapid development associated with the tight seven-year planning cycle from
acceptance of a successful bid to the hosting of the Games. Nevertheless is
the issue here less an Olympic issue as such than an issue for how interests
are dealt with more generally in redevelopment projects? For example, the
account of development interests at play in the Vancouver bid provided by
Shaw29 makes the claim that the interests of large-scale and local capital were
disproportionately favoured. However the urban political economy and urban
studies literature is replete with such critiques of development projects which
are not associated with mega-events but which make similar claims.30 Is it the
case that such undemocratic and unjust outcomes are the product of a lack
of legal protection of weaker interests in development in general? Or is it the
case that the Olympic system, because of its need for speedy, on-time delivery
of infrastructure, is simply unable to respect citizen’s rights? One might wish
to agree with many of the aspects of the claims that suggest Olympic projects
have been inappropriately implemented and have infringed the rights of
groups of citizens, but still wish to disagree with concluding that the Olympic
delivery system is inevitably fatally flawed.
The Centre for Housing Rights and Evictions, for example, tries to set out
in the final sections of its report31 the conditions which should prevail for the
organisers to meet appropriate standards for fair and just development strate-
gies. Critical analyses of poor practice in the Olympics, and indeed any urban
development project, perform an important service. However if the ends of
urban development in some critical respect are feasible and desirable (as they
should be in terms of enhancing the life chances of the local population in
the East London boroughs with the London 2012 development), then positive
proposals for desirable means by which such desirable ends are to be achieved
perform a potentially even more valuable role.

e) The environmental dimension

A major critique of staging the Games relates to the environmental costs of the
event and its infrastructure. Stadia and access and transport improvements are
often built quickly with significant environmental costs. In particular, waste is
incurred when the stadium capacities, or the specialist facilities, required for
the Games are in excess of anything that might regularly be required subse-
quently. Post-Games use of the facilities in Sydney, Athens and Beijing have
been subject to considerable criticism, with Athens in particular manifesting
the consequences of overprovision with brand-new facilities falling into dis-
repair through underuse.32 In Sydney there was something of a post-Games
panic about how to bring the out-of-city Homebush site into wider use,33 and
in Beijing the principal post-Games use of the centrepiece elements of the
560 The Olympics: Why We Should Value Them

Olympic Green, the ‘Bird’s Nest Stadium’ and the ‘Water Cube’ swimming and
diving facility has been for domestic tourism rather than the staging of sport-
ing events,34,35 with a prospective anchor tenant (a Chinese professional foot-
ball club, Beijing Guo’an) withdrawing because of its embarrassment in trying
to fill an 80,000 capacity stadium given an average home gate of 10,000).36 In
2009 it was announced that the area surrounding the Olympic stadium would
be converted into an entertainment and shopping zone.37
However, though there are significant examples of poor practice in relation
to post-Games usage and the unrealistic claims made in this respect, good
practice is possible. The enhancing of the physical, social and economic envi-
ronment of London’s Olympic site is seen as a critical condition for successful
regeneration of the area. Positive post-Games use of the core Olympic facility
(which will be reduced in size after the Games from a capacity of 80,000 to less
than 40,000) is seen as a key goal with negotiations underway for an anchor
tenant in the form of a Premiership football club in partnership with a local
authority.38 Plans to develop a world-class sport and health education and
research facility on site post-Games are underway, as well as for education and
other social and economic services for the local community which has been
both subject to poverty and lacking in terms of service provision on many
of the indicators of deprivation commonly employed in UK planning.39,40
Thus the enhancement of the physical environment planned for the areas
around the Olympic site, and the related social and economic goals are key.
Of course plans and priorities are not without controversy, particularly in the
light of the unfolding global economic crisis, but socially and environmentally
progressive goals are to the fore, even though economic strictures may limit the
ability to pursue some environmental goals.
The IOC has, since the Winter Games in Lillehammer and the Summer
Games of Sydney, placed increasing emphasis on bidding cities spelling out
the environmental dimension of the impact of their plans. The problem is
that once the contract between bidding city and the IOC is signed it becomes
increasingly difficult to insist on the delivery of some of these promises, and to
a degree the IOC thus becomes dependent on the strength of local stakeholders
to hold city and national governments to their promised commitment in
this respect.

f) The sporting dimension

The United Nations in its Declaration of the Rights of the Child recognised
the right to play and recreation,41 while the IOC advocates extending this to a
universal right to all to sport:

The practice of sport is a human right. Every individual must have the
possibility of practising sport, without discrimination of any kind and in
 Ian Henry 561

the Olympic spirit, which requires mutual understanding with a spirit of

friendship, solidarity and fair play.42

Of course there will be those who suggest that the actual operation of the
Olympic system militates against ‘mutual understanding, […] friendship, soli-
darity and fair play’ since what is referred to here are Western sports, and sports
in which certain nation states enjoy built-in advantages through their access
to sports science and technology, facilities for training, and through cultural
resources or cultural barriers. I will place these arguments to one side for the
moment since these are significant issues which may require their own solutions
(see, for example, Sigmund Loland‘s advocacy of equity in access to technology
in sport).43 I will restrict myself here to considering the claims that elite perform-
ance in the Olympic Games promotes participation in mass sport.
There are in fact relatively few studies which directly address this issue,
and of those which do the evidence provided is of limited quality. In a
systematic review of the literature entitled ‘The Health and Socioeconomic
Impacts of Major Multi-Sport Events: Systematic Review (1978–2008)’,44 pub-
lished in 2010, McCartney et al. review the evidence in the literature con-
cerning the health and participation impacts of the Games. The systematic
review process was reasonably thorough, searching the following sources:
Applied Social Science Index and Abstracts (ASSIA), British Humanities Index
(BHI), Cochrane database of systematic reviews, Econlit database, Embase,
Education Resources Information Center (ERIC) database, Health Management
Information Consortium (HMIC) database, International Bibliography of the
Social Sciences (IBSS), Medline, PreMedline, PsycINFO, Sociological Abstracts,
Sportdiscus, Web of Knowledge, Worldwide Political Science Abstracts, and the
grey literature. However, this identified only four studies which related to the
impact of the Games on participation in sport:45–48

One study reported that overall sports participation (four or more times in
the past four weeks, except walking) decreased in the Manchester area of the
UK by 2% after the 2002 Commonwealth Games, and that the gap in par-
ticipation rates between individuals in affluent areas and those in deprived
areas widened significantly.[45] On the other hand, there was an upward
trend in sports participation from the early 1980s until 1994 in association
with the 1992 Olympic Games in Barcelona, Spain.[46]
A second study examining the 2002 Commonwealth Games in Manchester
suggested that it was difficult to reap sports legacy gains in this case because
of problems with funding and capacity, the exclusion of voluntary groups
from using event branding, and a failure to retain key staff after the games.
It was also suggested that the provision of new sports facilities benefited
elite athletes after the event more than the host population.[47] However,
562 The Olympics: Why We Should Value Them

satisfaction with green spaces in Manchester did increase after the event
(from 28% to 75%).[48]

The provision of elite facilities for shared use with the community resulting in
decreased levels of participation is a finding which echoes Peter Taylor’s con-
clusions in respect of Sheffield and swimming participation rates following the
city’s investment in a major central facility for both competition and recrea-
tional swimming when preparing to stage the World University Games in 1991.
The construction of the new facility was in part paid for by the savings from
closure of aging community swimming pools which were located in working-
class communities. Participation in swimming fell in the city in the mid-1990s
against the national trend and Taylor attributes this to increased travel and
entry costs, and to user frustration at partial closure of facilities whenever a
major swimming event was to be staged in the city.49
One of the critical limiting factors identified by McCartney et al. in their
review of impact studies was that such studies tended to be cross-sectional rather
than longitudinal and that no comparator groups were built into the research
design. One of the few studies which has used a longitudinal approach is that
of Dawson50 whose initial results at least suggest a relationship between partici-
pation and the winning of the Olympic bid for 2012 in 2005.
Perhaps the most sustained effort to review the data on participation impacts
for a specific Games is that of Tony Veal and his colleagues.51,52 These studies,
which focus on estimation of the impact of the Sydney Games on participation
in Australia point to: a) the difficulties of making claims on the basis of govern-
ment statistics over the period before and after the Games since the indicators
of participation used by government for measuring participation changed over
time; but that b) even the imperfect data available would appear to indicate
that, if anything, it was non-Olympic sports which increased in participation
rather more than Olympic sports, some of which may even have experienced
declining levels of participation.
Although McCartney et al., Veal et al. and Weed et al.53 all manifest a lack of
enthusiasm for the case with regard to the case for stimulation of participation
by the hosting of mega-events in general and the Olympics in particular, there
are perhaps two points to emphasise. The first is that they conclude that the
case is ‘not proven’ rather than rejected. The second is that even if there is a
potential link, exposure to an elite performance will not of itself be likely to
generate participation unless measures are adopted to leverage that increased
participation. In other words the question policy-makers and researchers
might usefully address is not whether hosting the Games will enhance
recreational sporting participation rates but rather what should be done (in
the form of policies, projects, promotional campaigns and the like) to promote
increased participation. In other words the question is not whether increased
 Ian Henry 563

participation has occurred as a matter of happenstance in the past, but rather

one of what measures might be taken to seek to ensure that this does happen
in the future.

Conclusions

My approach to maintaining a case for the Games has been to identify, admit-
tedly in shorthand, those dimensions along which the debate between critics
and supporters of the staging of the Games has been waged. Critics will argue
that in cultural terms negative messages relating to gender or post-colonial/
Orientalist imagery have been promoted. In economic terms they may argue
that the cost of staging the Games, problems of gigantism, and the redistribu-
tion of economic benefits generate waste and inequity. In social terms the
Games may promote social ills such as the displacement, in particular, of
vulnerable populations. In environmental terms there may be significant nega-
tive impacts, for example, on carbon emissions in the construction of facilities,
delivery of services, and the travel of participants and spectators. In sporting
terms there may be little evidence of the positive impact of exposure to elite
performance on recreational participation. All of this of course is in the context
of a track record of an Olympic movement which has been subject to corrup-
tion on the part of some of its members and associates.
These negative conclusions are not claims that I wish to dismiss, but my
argument is that these conditions need not prevail. Simply to throw up one’s
hands in horror, saying that because the Olympic project like most human
projects has been subject to serious flaws the project has to be abandoned, is
not the only possible response. One might, for example, have the same reac-
tion in relation to the United Nations as an institution, or the international
aid system. Abandoning these projects is not regarded by most commentators
as a desirable or viable option. Our approach with these latter institutions is
to seek to find ways of improving their governance systems and their mode of
delivery to ensure that as far as possible the positive aims of such systems are
realised while the negatives are minimised or eliminated.
We can use the Games to promote positive cultural messages such as positive
inter-cultural engagement. The examples of sensitive adjustment of the laws
in relation to clothing which take account of the cultural norms and needs
of various groups represents a positive step forward in terms of sensitising
Western sensibilities to the need to think beyond Western norms. The delivery
of initiatives such as the International Inspiration programme,54 with its focus
on, for example, aiding the achievement of the Millennium Development
Goals, can, if it is able to steer between the dangers of cynical self-interest
and post-colonial paternalism, result in mutual benefits. In political terms,
although the 1936 Berlin Games may provide a shocking example of what can
564 The Olympics: Why We Should Value Them

happen in terms of the hijacking of the Games by political interests, it is also

clear that the sporting world helped to deliver (albeit reluctantly on the part
of some, such as Avery Brundage) an anti-apartheid campaign which helped
to bring about positive change in South Africa. In economic terms there are
massive costs associated with staging the Games. However, in many instances
the costs of the Games are calculated in ways which ignore the context. In
Barcelona and East London, for example, there were changes to the transport
infrastructure and to the physical environment which were regarded as essen-
tial, whether or not the Games were to be staged. It is unthinkable that the UK
government and the City of London could have left the area which became
the Olympic zone to descend further into economic, social and environmental
dilapidation and deprivation. Thus to describe such costs as ‘Olympic costs’ is
entirely misleading. Of course, large-scale development projects do have envi-
ronmental implications and these should be addressed, and it is to the Olympic
movement’s credit that such issues are on the agenda, and that environmental
impact is a criterion for judging candidatures for hosting the Games. Critics
might argue they are not taken seriously enough, though this may be the case
with other forms of development also, and this is an argument for improving
environmental accountability rather than necessarily abandoning forms of
urban development. In the same way, protecting the interests of the socially
most vulnerable is a crucial requirement of any development project and
though it may be more critical in the case of the rapid development cycle of
the Olympics it is not beyond the wit of politicians and planners to derive just
means for deciding between incompatible interests – indeed it is an essential
task in any development project. In terms of sporting impact of the Games
my view is that the major effort should not be on whether data from the past
is robust enough to demonstrate that increased participation has occurred
(‘naturally’) but rather should be on ways in which the benefits of increased
participation might be leveraged given the public focus on, and fascination
with, the Games.
The Olympic Games have been an imperfect phenomenon, dogged with
problems of poor governance which left leeway for the bribery of some IOC
members, with corrupted values in, for example, the doping of athletes, and
with negative economic, social and environmental impacts of staging the
Games. These problems at least are recognised and are being addressed by vari-
ous parties within and outside the Olympic movement, and though there may
be ongoing imperfections in the way the new Olympic governance system, or
the world anti-doping system, operate, or in the efforts to deal with problems
such as gigantism and post-Games usage of facilities, I find these more com-
pelling as arguments for tightening up the rules and processes of bidding and
staging the Games, and the moral norms and canons of Olympic competition,
than for abandoning the attempt to celebrate what for many is the pinnacle of
 Ian Henry 565

human physical endeavour in the field of sport conducted within the context
of Olympism which is not present in any other global sporting contest. The
Olympic Games takes place in a world which is subject to increasing change in
terms of speed and scope and in Habermasian terms the increased interaction
between (and within) cultures requires not simply political and economic insti-
tutional avenues, such as the UN, the WTO or the World Bank, for commu-
nicative action and the discursive construction of general ethical standards at
the inter and intra-societal levels,55 the world also requires cultural institutions
which allow the development of forms of cultural engagement and consensus.
In principle the Olympics retains a potential for such ends which is virtually
unique.

Notes
1. Elias, Involvement and Detachment. Contributions to the Sociology of Knowledge.
2. Wamsley, ‘Laying Olympism to Rest’.
3. Roche, ‘Mega-events, Time and Modernity – On Time Structures in Global Society’.
For viewing figures, see Nielsen Intelligence, ‘The Final Tally – 4.7 Billion Tunes in to
Beijing 2008 . . . ’.
4. The origins of some sports such as football or golf may not be derived from the West
(see, for example, FIFA’s recent recognition of the evidence of a form of football
in China around 3000 years ago; http://footballs.fifa.com/Football-Facts) but its
codification and modernisation are predominantly of recent and Western European
provenance.
5. Chatziefstathiou et al., ‘Cultural Imperialism and the Diffusion of Olympic Sport in
Africa: A Comparison of Pre- and Post-Second World War Contexts’; Ren, ‘Embracing
Wushu: Globalisation and Cultural Diversification of the Olympic Movement’.
6. Brownell, Beijing‘s Games: What the Olympics Mean to China.
7. Brooks, ‘Using Sex Appeal as a Sport Promotion Strategy’.
8. Persian Football, ‘FIFA Ban Iranian Women Football National Team’.
9. Islamophobia Watch, ‘FIFA Lifts Ban on Iranian Girls’ Football Team’.
10. Henry et al., Women, Leadership, and the Olympic Movement.
11. Henry et al., ‘Multiculturalism, Interculturalism, Assimilation and Sports Policy In
Europe’.
12. The French Republican model of citizenship does not officially recognise the cultural
diversity of its population, as evidenced, for example, in banning of the wearing
of the veil in schools and other public spaces such as sports centres. All citizens
of France are ‘French’, and thus the French state in its censuses, unlike its British
counterpart, has not differentiated its citizens by country of origin. Thus the British
census has identified the number and location of British Indians, for example, while
the French census gives us no data relating to French Algerians or French Tunisians.
See Vivian, ‘The Veil and the Visible’; Kastoryano, Negotiating Identities: States and
Immigrants in France and Germany.
13. Howe, The Cultural Politics of the Paralympic Movement: Through the Anthropological Lens.
14. Preuss, The Economics of Staging the Olympics: A Comparison of the Games 1972–2008.
15. Senn, Power, Politics and the Olympic Games: A History of the Power Brokers, Events, and
Controversies that Shaped the Games.
566 The Olympics: Why We Should Value Them

16. Cashman, The Bitter-sweet Awakening: The Legacy of the Sydney 2000 Olympic Games.
17. Henry, Strategies of the 2012 London Olympic Games in an Era of Global Economic
Depression.
18. Preuss, The Economics of Staging the Olympics.
19. British Library, ‘Olympics 2012: Parliamentary Questions’.
20. Preuss, The Economics of Staging the Olympics, 275.
21. Blake, ‘The Economic Impact of the London 2012 Olympics’.
22. Chan, China‘s Compliance in Global Affairs: Trade, Arms Control, Environmental
Protection, Human Rights.
23. Worden, China‘s Great Leap: the Beijing Games and Olympian Human Rights
Challenges, 26.
24. Ibid.
25. GamesBids.com, ‘Berne Officially Withdraws Bid’.
26. Lenskyj, Inside the Olympic Industry: Power, Politics, and Activism.
27. United Nations: Report of the Special Rapporteur on Adequate Housing.
28. Centre for Housing Rights and Evictions (COHRE), Fair Play for Housing Rights: Mega-
events, Olympic Games and Housing Rights.
29. Shaw, Five Ring Circus: Myths and Realities of the Olympic Games.
30. Barlow, ‘The Politics of Urban Growth – Boosterism and Nimbyism in European
Boom Regions’.
31. COHRE, Fair Play for Housing Rights.
32. Ringas, ‘Greece Assesses Costs, Benefits of Athens Olympiad’.
33. Cashman, The Bitter-sweet Awakening.
34. Beijing Organising Committee for the Olympic Games (BOCOG) ‘Architect: After-
Games Use Is Taken into Consideration’; interestingly, this article actually makes no
mention at all of post-Games usage.
35. Xu and Chisholm, ‘China Tourists Twig to Beijing‘s Bird‘s Nest’.
36. Demick, ‘Beijing‘s Olympic Building Boom Becomes a Bust’.
37. ABC News/Associated Press, ‘Beijing’s Bird’s Nest to Anchor Shopping Complex’.
38. Hayman, ‘West Ham and Newham Make Joint Olympic Stadium Bid’.
39. Garlick, ‘Games Deal To Close Poverty Gap’.
40. Hayman, ‘Games Framework Sets Out Targets to 2030’.
41. United Nations, Declaration on the Rights of the Child.
42. InternationaI Olympic Committee, Olympic Charter, 7.
43. Loland, ‘Technology in Sport: Three Ideal-typical Views and Their Implications’.
44. McCartney et al., ‘The Health and Socioeconomic Impacts of Major Multi-sport
Events: Systematic Review (1978–2008)’.
45. MORI, The Sports Development Impact of the Commonwealth Games 2002 – Post-Games
Research. Final Report.
46. Truno, Barcelona: City of Sport.
47. Brown et al., The Sports Development Impact of the 2002 Commonwealth Games: Post
Games Report.
48. Newby, To What Extent Have the Commonwealth Games Accelerated the Physical, Social,
and Economic Regeneration of East Manchester?
49. Taylor, Sports Facility Development and the Role of Forecasting: A Retrospective on
Swimming in Sheffield.
50. Dawson, Hosting Major Sporting Events and Participation in Sport: A Longitudinal
Perspective.
51. Veal et al., ‘Sport for All’ and Major Sporting Events: Project Paper 1: Introduction to the
Project.
 Ian Henry 567

52. Veal and Frawley, ‘Sport for All’ and Major Sporting Events: Trends in Sport Participation
and the Sydney 2000 Olympic Games, the 2003 Rugby World Cup and the Melbourne 2006
Commonwealth Games.
53. Weed et al., A Systematic Review of the Evidence Base for Developing a Physical Activity
and Health Legacy from the London 2012 Olympic and Paralympic Games.
54. UK Sport, ‘UK Leads “International Inspiration“ as Developing Countries Get
Sporting Boost’.
55. Habermas, Moral Consciousness and Communicative Action.

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Brownell, S. (2008) Beijing’s Games: What the Olympics Mean to China (Lanham:
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Hayman, A. (2010) ‘West Ham and Newham Make Joint Olympic Stadium Bid’,
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and Controversies that Shaped the Games (Champaign: Human Kinetics).
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115–139.
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35
The Case against the Olympic
Games: The Buck Stops with the IOC
Helen Jefferson Lenskyj

The contributors to this book have provided a comprehensive, critical examination

of a range of Olympic issues. In this concluding discussion, I focus on four
significant, interrelated themes that Olympic industry officials have addressed
in the last two decades, usually with limited success: leadership; transparency
and accountability; social responsibility; and sporting mythology.

Failure of leadership

Despite the extreme reverence and countless privileges accorded to IOC presi-
dents and members of the organisation self-identified as the ‘supreme author-
ity’ over world sport, these men (and the few women in their ranks) routinely
fail to live up to their reputations as leaders, while at the same time displaying
inflated views of their own importance and power. In a rigidly hierarchical
organisation such as the IOC, leaders who fail to set high ethical standards and
whose public behaviour is characterised by hyperbole and hypocrisy make it
difficult, if not impossible, for well-intentioned Olympic administrators further
down the ladder to bring about any positive changes.
IOC president Jacques Rogge and his predecessor Juan Antonio Samaranch
often appeared to be channelling the Oracle at Delphi into their cryptic pro-
nouncements concerning past, present and future bids. In 2010, at the opening
of the Commonwealth Games in Delhi, Rogge said that if these games were
a success (and he believed they would be), then that would be ‘a very good
foundation stone to think about the possible conduct’ of the Olympics – this
after the city barely managed to complete preparations in time or on budget for
a much smaller sporting competition.1 The previous year, Rogge had assured
Toronto, Canada, a city that had mounted two expensive (losing) bids in
the preceding 20 years, that it was a ‘strong contender’ for a future Summer
Games and should certainly try again.2 Clearly, it would not be in the Olympic
industry’s interest to discourage any potential candidate, however slight its

570
H.J. Lenskyj et al. (eds.), The Palgrave Handbook of Olympic Studies
© Palgrave Macmillan, a division of Macmillan Publishers Limited 2012
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 571

chances of winning or its potential to bankrupt the host city or country; fierce
competition among bid cities helps to drive the Olympic machine. And at
every closing ceremony, the host city and country hold their collective breaths
in anticipation of the president’s magic words: ‘Best Olympics ever!’ The
frequency with which the phrase is uttered does little to diminish its value.
In fact, these words of presidential praise tend to carry more weight than any
subsequent evaluations of Olympic impacts based on actual research – for
example, independent budget audits, environmental assessments, analyses of
post-Games use of facilities, and the like.
Another recent example, captured in the headline ‘IOC Urges FIFA To Act
over Vote-selling Claims’, would be laughable if it were not so hypocritical.3
In 2010, during FIFA’s selection of hosts for the 2018 and 2022 World Cups,
it came to light, largely through the efforts of investigative journalists, that
FIFA members and various bid candidates had engaged in vote-buying and
selling. Rogge subsequently had a gentlemanly discussion with FIFA president
Sepp Blatter, also an IOC member, thereby neatly resolving the problem. As
Rogge explained, ‘Mr. Blatter . . . was so kind to call me when the whole issue
emerged . . . I encouraged him . . . to try to clean out as much as possible’.
Rogge went on to exonerate both the IOC and FIFA by explaining that, despite
their best efforts, it was a difficult problem because ‘cheating is embedded in
human nature’.4
As both an IOC member and the FIFA president, Blatter arguably wielded
more power than any other figure in global sport. In June 2010, after the
former French national team coach and the president of France’s national foot-
ball association had been questioned at a National Assembly hearing following
the team’s early elimination from the World Cup, Blatter sent a FIFA repre-
sentative to investigate whether this questioning constituted ‘governmental
interference’ in FIFA. Had the finding been positive, Blatter would have sus-
pended the French football association from FIFA.5 Incredibly, in his capacity
as simply a sports administrator, he appeared to have the power to control the
actions of a major government.
From a different viewpoint, however, ‘governmental interference’ in global
sport contexts is not only permitted but encouraged. Politicians have a consist-
ently high profile in all things Olympic, and heads of state routinely appear at
the IOC’s general assembly meetings to promote their bids. In former British
Prime Minister Tony Blair’s 2010 memoir, he reflected on his own success-
ful lobbying prior to the IOC’s 2005 selection of London as host of the 2012
Summer Olympics. Blair presented a rather self-satisfied report of a behind-
the-scenes exchange with his ‘friend’, Italian Prime Minister Silvio Belusconi,
in an attempt to secure the Italian IOC member’s vote. In a revealing blend
of pragmatic and unprincipled politicking (and a little understatement),
Blair explained, ‘ . . . I like Silvio . . . Personal relationships matter . . . if you
572 The Case Against the Olympic Games: The Buck Stops with the IOC

distance yourself on political grounds – for example, because, like Silvio, there’s
controversy around them . . . don’t kid yourself, your country’s the loser’.6

Absence of transparency and accountability

Changes of the last two decades in IOC’s selection of host cities, and related
developments in the other major world sport organisation, FIFA, suggest that
self-interest trumps transparency and fairness. These organisations’ stated rea-
sons for recent, and often unexpected, selections include giving new countries
and new continents, mostly in the so-called developing world, the opportunity
to host sport mega-events. It came as no surprise, however, to find that other
agendas – usually money and power – were influencing voting patterns, as seen
in the selection of Beijing, Sochi and Rio for Olympic Games (and the failed
bids from cities like New York, Chicago and Toronto), and the choice of South
Africa, Brazil, Russia and Qatar for World Cups (and England’s and Australia’s
failed candidatures).
In 2009–10, ten years after the IOC bribery scandals, Football Federation
Australia (FFA) decided to follow Olympic bid cities’ vote-buying model of the
1980s and 1990s. The FFA hired lobbyists at a cost of $AU11.37 million, spent
$45.6 million of government money, and gave gifts valued at about $50,000
to FIFA members and their wives, along with other in-kind inducements. This
strategy, however, failed to produce the desired outcome of hosting a future
World Cup.7 Later media reports alleged that Blatter wanted to be re-elected
and that the chair of Qatar’s bid committee had the numbers to prevent this,
presumably leaving Blatter and his supporters with no other option than to
award the 2022 World Cup to Qatar.8
In backroom dealings leading to England’s failed World Cup bid, Blatter was
reported to have been displeased with the ‘evils’ of the English press, which
had recently exposed FIFA’s corruption. Furthermore, according to a Daily Mail
account, he had been ‘impressed by the number of glamorous women paraded
in front of him during his visits to some of the rival bidding nations’,9 an offen-
sive comment that recalls the ‘bad old days’ of IOC vote-peddling. For an IOC
member to make this statement, albeit in the role of FIFA president, suggests
that the ‘old boys’ subculture continues unchecked in these contexts, where
female members continue to be only a small minority. And, on that topic, one
might ask whatever possessed the International Pole Dance Fitness Association
to try to make pole dancing a test event in the 2016 Olympics in Rio10 – but
perhaps the association recognised that sexploitation has long been a factor in
Olympic industry decision-making circles.
At least 11 IOC members are current or former presidents of major inter-
national sports federations, including former FIFA president João Havelange.
Under Havelange’s and Blatter’s presidencies, about £60 million in bribes were
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 573

allegedly paid to sport officials.11 A second criminal investigation was held in

2010, and in an out-of-court settlement, six unnamed FIFA officials agreed to
repay £3.5 million that they had received in kickbacks on marketing contracts.
Yet no IOC member from FIFA has ever been expelled, despite the IOC’s stated
commitment to reform.12
As recently as February 2011, the IOC demonstrated yet again its reluctance
to pursue possible ethical infractions. In his Olympic memoir, Vancouver
Organizing Committee CEO John Furlong discussed how, during the bid stage,
the Vancouver team had offered the Russians assistance with Moscow’s 2016
Olympic bid in exchange for their support for Vancouver’s 2010 bid. When
American National Public Radio (NPR) journalists contacted the IOC, they were
told that ‘neither Mr Furlong nor the people referred to are bound by the IOC’s
Code of Conduct’. NPR pointed out that the code in fact spelled out these
infractions in detail, and four days later the IOC agreed that further inquiries
should be made.13
On the issue of a host city’s accountability to the IOC, in the seven-year
period from the announcement of the IOC’s vote to the event itself, the IOC
coordination commission may express concern, disappointment or displeasure
with the planning, construction and overall progress of the Olympic project,
but self-interest prevents them from making any serious threat to remove the
Games from the chosen host city. To do so would be suicidal for all parties.
Similarly, organising committees’ broken promises regarding post-Games use of
facilities, environmental benefits, affordable housing and other so-called lega-
cies are of no concern to the IOC, although occasional references are made to
the ‘white elephant’ problem, of which there are countless examples in previ-
ous host cities. Eight years after Sydney hosted the Olympics, the New South
Wales parliament fast-tracked legislation to convert the thoughtfully designed
and landscaped central boulevard at the Homebush Bay Olympic site into a V8
Supercars racing circuit, destroying hundreds of trees in the process.14 With the
accompanying noise, crowds, and the risk of oil and fuel spills, Sydney 2000
organisers’ promises of a ‘Green Games’ legacy were seriously compromised.15
Accompanying the white elephant problem is the inevitable drain on public
money. With guarantees of government financial support an essential com-
ponent of a successful Olympic bid, taxpayers are doubly burdened, firstly, to
cover construction costs, and secondly, to pay for upgrades needed to promote
the post-Games use of Olympic facilities.

Inaction on social responsibility

The IOC’s selection of Beijing as 2008 host city symbolised its amoral, market-
driven approach to global social issues, given China’s long-standing reputation
as having one of the worst records of human rights violations in the world.
574 The Case Against the Olympic Games: The Buck Stops with the IOC

The IOC offered the rationale that the global attention generated by the
Olympics would exert some pressure on China to clean up its act, supported
by vague references to a mutual understanding to that effect between IOC
and Chinese officials. As events unfolded in the lead-up to the Games, most
notably the violence experienced by Tibetan protesters at the hands of Chinese
police and security during the torch relay, it became clear that Olympic officials
had either been duped, or, more likely, didn’t care.
As a (usually covert) player in global politics, it is in the IOC’s self-interest
to avoid appearing to comment on, let alone to interfere with, the domestic
politics of the host city or country. Olympic officials publicly embrace this
‘hands-off’ approach at every opportunity, claiming that human rights and
related housing rights issues and violations are the sole responsibilities of host
countries’ governments, as if neutrality, apathy and inaction constituted some
kind of moral high ground.
In the words of IOC marketing head Gerhard Heiberg, reacting to China’s
suppression of Tibetan protesters in 2008: ‘We still maintain that the Olympics
are mainly a sports event and we do not want to get involved in a sovereign
state’s domestic and foreign policy . . . [but] behind the scenes there can be
silent diplomacy, trying to explain how things could hurt the success of the
Games [emphasis added].’16 No doubt he was referring to financial success,
a language more likely to be understood by Olympic organisers than any call
for social responsibility.
In 2007, the Centre on Housing Rights and Evictions (COHRE) released a
report that provided indisputable evidence of housing rights violations in
every Olympic host city since 1988, as well as in the (then) future host cities of
Beijing and London, specifically the displacement of about 2 million people –
mostly poor people, Roma, African-Americans, and other minorities.17 Armed
with these comprehensive and thoroughly documented findings, COHRE
was eventually granted a meeting with an IOC member, who raised the usual
objections: housing was a matter for domestic governments, the list of criteria
for candidate cities was already long, and so on. In one promising develop-
ment, the IOC began to monitor social, economic and environmental impacts
through its Olympic Games Global Impact Project, but did not focus on the
housing impacts identified by COHRE researchers, and there has been little
evidence of change in the years since the report was released.
Similarly, the UN Special Rapporteur on Adequate Housing, Miloon Kothari,
reported his extensive findings on Olympic housing impacts to the IOC. In
2007, having examined housing in cities that had hosted the Olympics, the
World Cup, and the Commonwealth Games, he found a repeated pattern of
forced evictions, property speculation, and the removal of homeless people.18
Again, little or no action has been taken.
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 575

Sporting mythology: grandiose claims

The only partnership that has developed between the UN and the IOC focuses
on the (purported) links among sport, development and peace, and not on
housing, arguably the most significant area of concern that the two organisa-
tions share. At the first UN-IOC Forum on sport and development in 2010, IOC
Vice President Mario Pescante specifically identified ‘young people, women, the
disabled, disease prevention, human solidarity, and the fight against crime and
violence’ among the many social groups and societal problems that the UN-IOC
partnership would target. Addressing the same forum, President Rogge stated:

The IOC and the Olympic Movement have a social responsibility to bring
sport and its values to all fields of society. If sport on its own cannot drive
this agenda, it can however exchange and partner with those whose respon-
sibility and expertise is to make peace and drive national development, such
as the UN.19

Both statements invoke the century-old claim that sport, in the right hands,
can be used as an instrument of social engineering, a ‘magic bullet’ that can
solve contemporary problems ranging from teen pregnancy to war in the
Middle East.20
Olympic boosters in every recent host country have relied on these kinds
of largely unsupported claims to promote Olympic bids, and to justify the
significant diversion of government money into these ventures. A favourite
argument holds that the hosting of the Games will encourage sporting partici-
pation among children, youth and sedentary adults, thereby addressing a wide
range of health problems and societal ills. Most proponents invoke anecdotal
evidence to support these claims, a common example being that ‘hundreds of
children and youth have signed up for [–––] since [–––] won a gold medal’ (and
the unspoken corollary that their increased sporting involvement ‘keeps them
off the streets’). Words like ‘legacy’ and ‘role model’ invariably accompany
these stories.
In light of these widespread ‘common-sense’ assumptions, it is interest-
ing to note the results of recent Australian surveys. A 2008 Australian Sports
Commission and Department of Health and Ageing survey found that non-
organised sport and physical recreation were the most common forms of
physical activity among Australians, and that in the post-Olympic period
2001–2008, the biggest growth areas were aerobics and fitness activities.21
Participation in Olympic sports did not show increases. And, on another
popular theme – sport as the great social and cultural leveller – findings from
the Challenging Racism research project at the University of Western Sydney
576 The Case Against the Olympic Games: The Buck Stops with the IOC

(1998–present) demonstrated that, far from being the site of enthusiastic

cultural mixing, sport was ranked well behind the workplace and ‘social life’ as
a place where respondents mixed with members of other cultural groups.22
A comprehensive study titled The Future of Sport in Australia (also known
as the Crawford report) was commissioned by the federal government and
released in 2009. An independent expert panel, chaired by David Crawford,
comprised women and men with extensive backgrounds in sport administra-
tion (Australian Football League, soccer, field hockey, Paralympics), as well as
experience in business, education, cultural institutions and non-profit organi-
zations. The panel’s terms of reference included the following:

• Ensure Australia’s continued elite sporting success;

• Better place sport and physical activity as a key component of the govern-
ment’s preventative health approach;
• Strengthen pathways from junior sport to grassroots community sport right
through to elite and professional sport;
• Identify opportunities to increase and diversify the funding base for sport
through corporate sponsorship, media and any recommended reforms, such
as enhancing the effectiveness of the Australian Sports Foundation.23

It is important to note that, although the government wanted an analysis of

sports funding from a business perspective (as reflected in the choice of David
Crawford, a corporate recovery specialist and former KPMG chair), the panel’s
approach and terms of reference were not opposed to elite sport, and panel
members had extensive experience in all levels of sporting competition and
administration, including Olympic sport.
While the panel had been consulting with hundreds of sport groups and
other stakeholders throughout Australia in 2009, the Australian Olympic
Committee (AOC) had been urgently lobbying the federal government to pro-
vide an additional $100 million per year in funding. An increase of 80 per cent
was needed, it claimed, to improve the country’s medal count following
what was seen in AOC circles as a shameful sixth position overall in the 2008
Summer Olympics.24 So when the Crawford report stated that ‘the funding
imbalance between Olympic and non-Olympic sports should be questioned’,
the AOC’s reactions were predictably outraged, with the epithet ‘Un-Australian’
applied liberally to the panel members for allegedly insulting past Olympic
medal-winners.25
The report recommended that greater emphasis and funding be directed to
the most popular sports that Australians throughout the country played, and,
in relation to the preventative health, those sports most likely to engage people
over their lifetimes. Given the current preoccupation with medal counts, the
report expressed concern that community sporting participation was not
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 577

even measured and generally neglected. Sporting success, in the words of the
report, should be redefined ‘in the context of prioritising those sports which
capture the country’s imagination and represent its spirit and culture’, thereby
contributing to Australians’ ‘sense of success as a nation’.26 Water polo, for
example, received as much government funding as golf, tennis and lawn bowls
combined, and these three popular sports, unlike water polo, were more likely
to engage Australians over their lifetimes and to promote health and fitness.

Future directions (if any)

The bribery scandals of 1998–99, and the subsequent investigations on several

continents, gave the IOC and its countless subsidiaries – international sports
federations, national Olympic committees, bid committees, organising com-
mittees, corporate sponsors, media rights-holders, and others – an unprec-
edented window of opportunity to commit themselves to a thoroughgoing
reform project, with particular attention paid to systems of governance that
promote responsible leadership, transparency, accountability and social justice.
Yet there is little evidence of systemic change in the last decade. Ironically,
the most recent positive initiative occurred in 1991, years before the bribery
scandals, when the IOC introduced environmental requirements into the can-
didate cities’ manual, apparently without any concern that this step would be
perceived as IOC interference in a country’s government affairs.
It is discouraging to witness ‘business as usual’ in most corners of the
Olympic industry, but encouraging to see confirmation, through the research
presented in this and other scholarly publications, that there is an interna-
tional network of academics and journalists dedicated to the critical examina-
tion of all these issues.

Notes
1. Chakraborty, ‘Successful Games Will Boost India’s Olympic Hopes’.
2. Fong, ‘IOC Boss to Toronto: Keep Trying’.
3. Linden, ‘IOC Urges FIFA To Act over Vote-selling Claims’.
4. Ibid.
5. AFP, ‘FIFA Sees No Political Meddling in France’.
6. Blair, A Journey: My Political Life, 546.
7. FitzSimons, ‘Australia’s World Cup Bid an Expensive Mistake’.
8. Baker and McKenzie, ‘Secret Millions Grease World Cup Bid’; McKenzie and Baker,
‘Tortuous Trail of Our World Cup Bid’.
9. Walters, ‘FIFA Chiefs out of The Dorchester’.
10. ‘“Sport” Eyes Leg Up towards Olympic Status’.
11. Jennings, Foul: The Secret World of FIFA: Bribes, Vote Rigging and Ticket Scandals;
Jennings, ‘FIFA “misled” detective on Trail of Missing Pounds Paid for World Cup TV
Rights’.
578 The Case Against the Olympic Games: The Buck Stops with the IOC

12. BBC TV: Panorama, ‘FIFA’s Dirty Secrets’.

13. Berkes, ‘IOC Scrutinized Vancouver Olympics Bidding Deal’.
14. ABC News, ‘Govt. Adds Fuel to V8 Race Debate’; M. Moore, ‘Tree Felling for V8
Supercars Gets Black Flag’. V8 Supercars racing is a uniquely Australian sport, involv-
ing greatly modified eight-cylinder Fords and Holdens. After energetic lobbying, the
Homebush race, known as the Sydney 500, got the green light in 2009, but has been
dogged by further controversy.
15. Lenskyj, Inside the Olympic Industry: Power, Politics and Activism, Chapter 8. A Google
search for the terms white elephant and olympic yielded about 247,000 results, with
the majority confirming that it is an ongoing problem. Examples include stadiums
in Montreal, Sydney, Beijing and London, and velodromes and ski runs in several
recent host cities.
16. Leicester, ‘Calls Mount for Olympic Ceremony Boycott’.
17. Centre on Housing Rights and Evictions, Fair Play for Housing Rights: Mega-events,
Olympic Games and Housing Rights.
18. Kothari, presentation to Global Health Forum, ‘Health, Housing and Human Rights:
Exploring the Connections in Canada and Globally’.
19. ‘First UN-IOC Forum in Lausanne’.
20. The alleged connection to pregnancy prevention has been made in American
sources and popularised in Nike advertisements. The concept of the Olympic truce is
commonly misinterpreted as the equivalent of a cease-fire in modern warfare, while
sport as a force for character-building and peace (‘sporting humanitarianism’) is an
unquestioned tenet of the UN Inter-Agency Task Force on Development and Peace
and numerous other NGOs. See Lenskyj, Olympic Industry Resistance, Chapter 5, for a
full discussion of these issues.
21. Australian Government, Australian Sports Commission and Department of Health
and Ageing, Participation in Exercise, Physical Activity and Sport, 18.
22. Challenging Racism: The Anti-Racism Research Project, University of Western Sydney,
Australia. About 30 per cent of respondents reported that they never or ‘hardly ever’
mixed with members of other cultural groups in sport circles, while only about
17 per cent and 20 per cent gave this negative response when asked about cultural
mixing the workplace and in their social life, respectively.
23. Australian Sport: The Pathway to Success, Appendix A, 151–152.
24. Magnay, ‘Medal Push: Sport Chiefs Want Extra $100m a Year’.
25. Cornell, ‘David Crawford and the Olympians’.
26. Australian Sport: the Pathway to Success, Chapter 11, 8.

References
ABC News (2008) ‘Govt. Adds Fuel to V8 Race Debate’, 2 December, at: www.abc.net.
au/news/stories/2008/12/02/2435698.htm?site=news.
Australian Government, Australian Sports Commission and Department of Health
and Ageing (2008) Participation in Exercise, Physical Activity and Sport, Annual Report
(Canberra: Australian Government).
Australian Sport: The Pathway to Success (2010) Report of the Independent Sport Panel
Report, Department of Health and Ageing, 11 May, at: www.sportpanel.org.au/internet/
sportpanel/publishing.nsf/Content/crawford-report.
Baker, R. and N. McKenzie (2010) ‘Secret Millions Grease World Cup Bid’, Sydney Morning
Herald, 30 June, 1–2.
 Helen Jefferson Lenskyj 579

BBC TV: Panorama (2010) ‘FIFA’s Dirty Secrets’, 29 November 29, at: http://news.bbc.
co.uk/panorama/hi/default.stm.
Berkes, H. (2011) ‘IOC Scrutinizes Vancouver Olympics Bidding Deal’, NPR, 24 February,
at: www.npr.org/2011/02/24/134015260/ioc-scrutinizes-vancouver-olympics-bidding-
deal?sc=emaf.
Blair, T. (2010) A Journey: My Political Life (Toronto: Knopf).
Centre on Housing Rights and Evictions (COHRE) (2007) Fair Play for Housing Rights:
Mega-events, Olympic Games and Housing Rights (Geneva: COHRE), at: www.cohre.org/
topics/mega-events.
Chakraborty, A. (2010) ‘Successful Games Will Boost India’s Olympic Hopes’, Reuters, 3
October, at: www.reuters.com/article/idUSTRE6920P420101003.
Cornell, A. (2010) ‘David Crawford and the Olympians’, Australian Financial Review
Magazine, 30 April, 34–36.
‘FIFA Sees No Political Meddling in France’, 1 July 2010, AFP, available at: http://hello.
news352.lu/edito-53185-fifa-sees-no-political-meddling-in-france.html.
First UN-IOC Forum in Lausanne (2010) UN Sport for Development and Peace, at: www.
un.org/wcm/content/site/sport/home/template/news_item.jsp?cid=13311.
FitzSimons, P. (2010) ‘Australia’s World Cup Bid an Expensive Mistake’, Sydney Morning
Herald, 3 July, 14.
Fong, P. (2009) ‘IOC Boss to Toronto: Keep Trying’, Toronto Star, 14 February, S6.
Jennings, A. (2006) Foul: The Secret World of FIFA: Bribes, Vote Rigging and Ticket Scandals
(London: HarperSport).
Jennings, A. (2008) ‘FIFA “Misled” Detective on Trail of Missing £45m Paid for World
Cup TV Rights’, Daily Telegraph, 29 July, at: www.telegraph.co.uk/sport/football/
international/2470897/Fifa-misled-detectives-on-trail-of-missing-45m-paid-for-World-
Cup-TV-rights.html.
Kothari, M. (2010) Presentation to the Global Health Forum, Health, Housing and Human
Rights: Exploring the Connections in Canada and Globally, University of Toronto, 21–22
January.
Leicester, J. (2008) ‘Calls Mount for Olympic Ceremony Boycott’, Associated Press, 18
March, at: http://apnews.myway.com/article/20080318/D8VG3QDGO.html.
Lenskyj, H. (2000) Inside the Olympic Industry: Power, Politics and Activism (Albany: State
University of New York Press).
Lenskyj, H. (2008) Olympic Industry Resistance: Challenging Olympic Power and Propaganda
(Albany: State University of New York Press).
Linden, J. (2010) ‘IOC Urges FIFA To Act Over Vote-Selling Claims’, Reuters, 26 October,
at: www.reuters.com/article/idUSLDE69P2KB20101026.
Magnay, J. (2009) ‘Medal Push: Sport Chiefs Want Extra $100m a Year’, Sydney Morning
Herald, 2 February.
McKenzie, R. and N. Baker (2010) ‘Tortuous Trail of Our World Cup Bid’, Sydney Morning
Herald, 10 July, 1.
Moore, M. (2009) ‘Tree Felling for V8 Supercars Gets Black Flag’, Sydney Morning Herald,
31 July.
‘Sport Eyes Leg Up Towards Olympic Status’ (2010) Toronto Star, 11 December, S4.
University of Western Sydney, Australia (1998–present) Challenging Racism: The Anti-
Racism Research Project.
Walters, S. (2010) ‘Boris Kicks FIFA Chiefs out of The Dorchester: London Mayor Takes
Revenge for THAT Vote by Scuppering £1,000-a-Night Olympic Junket’, Daily Mail, 6
December, at: www.dailymail.co.uk/news/article-1335787/Boris-Johnson-kicks-FIFA-
chiefs-Dorchester-London-2012-Olympics.html.
Index

ABC television (USA) 137, 138, 263, 264, ‘Anthropology Days’ 47–50, 476
265 Anti-2004 Campaign, Greece 10, 167,
ableism, ableist 364, 372, 433, 434, 439 173, 533–547
Aboriginal peoples (see also Indigenous anti-doping initiatives 411–412, 414,
Peoples) 9, 10, 47–50, 94, 95, 96, 98, 418, 419, 421, 564
105, 107, 251, 277, 326, 339, 403, 432, anti-Olympic and Olympic watchdog
474–484, 487–496, 554 organizations 2, 3, 10, 91, 278, 308,
academics, researchers 2, 6, 88, 96, 212, 350, 528, 533–546
369, 433, 533, 537, 543, 547, 551, 552, apartheid 22, 79, 80, 298, 488
562, 574, 577 archery 47, 49, 296, 372, 444
accountability, transparency 3, 93, 123, architecture, architects 1, 47, 91, 108,
257, 283, 470, 564, 570, 572, 573, 577 109, 112, 124, 141, 185, 197, 244, 282,
activism, activists 2, 91, 93, 94, 95, 156, 508, 535
167, 168, 215, 279, 312, 347, 366, 382, aristocracy, aristocrats 19, 28, 36, 47, 51,
434, 474, 483, 484, 506, 523, 527–530, 74, 212, 322, 362, 461, 462, 467, 533
533–47 Aryans 61, 62, 64
Adidas 6, 60, 234–238, 265, 465 Asia, Asians 74, 103–107, 113, 117, 222,
advertising 8, 18, 60, 63, 88, 115, 136, 236, 242, 244, 511, 558
147, 262–267, 280, 283, 307–312, 328, Athens 1, 6, 10, 15–22, 31–35, 43, 51, 53,
331, 337, 338, 341, 344, 349, 437, 438, 163–174, 197, 204, 222, 242, 244, 249,
488, 494 257, 268, 277, 293, 337, 340, 349, 360,
Afghanistan, Afghanis 21, 22, 264, 294, 365, 370, 383–386, 389, 390, 395, 401,
466, 472 478, 506, 520–526, 536–544, 556, 559
Africa, Africans 48, 74, 75, 79, 80, 83, Athens Organizing Committee (ATHOC)
130, 216, 234, 236, 238, 298, 415, 434, 170, 171, 384
453, 476, 480, 488 athletes’ villages 255, 530
African-Americans 60, 64–67, 96–97, athletics 16, 32, 46, 47, 50, 54, 105, 152,
433, 527, 558, 574 236, 244, 252, 261, 305, 323, 325, 365,
Albertville 1992 Winter Olympic 416, 420, 431, 444, 450, 453, 467
Games 243, 382 Atlanta 1996 Summer Olympic
amateurism 19, 28, 51, 73, 79, 80, 81, Games 3, 4, 10, 43, 165, 166, 240,
291, 296, 321–333, 419, 421, 465 266, 269, 361, 368, 394, 469, 506, 508,
ambush marketing 4, 239, 277, 308, 310 517, 520, 527–529, 534, 536, 537, 541,
American Athletic Union (AAU) 45, 47, 554, 555
49, 81, 323, 328 Australia, Australians 2, 7, 10, 21, 24, 51,
Amnesty International 311, 312 74, 82, 90, 93, 109, 219, 239, 252, 278,
amphetamines 413, 416, 420 332, 337, 339, 365, 386, 418, 432, 435,
anabolic steroids 413, 416, 419, 420, 487–496, 529, 530, 562, 572, 575–576
426n22, 447, 466 Austria, Austrians 2, 23, 51, 103, 253,
Ancient Olympic Games 1, 4, 15–24, 27, 328, 421
50, 60, 63, 64, 67, 112, 152, 164, 169,
172, 173, 290, 293, 313, 321, 325, 329, Baillet–Latour, Henri 65, 68, 462
333, 362, 415, 523, 543 banned substances (see also performance-
androgen 447, 448, 454 enhancing drugs) 411, 418, 420, 422
anthropology 47–59, 370, 475, 478, 479, Barcelona 109, 166, 188, 265, 332, 361,
482, 484 451, 463, 464, 506, 521, 561, 564

580
 Index 581

Barcelona 1992 Summer Olympic British Olympic Association (BOA) 306,

Games 188, 361 513
baseball 47, 97, 169, 172, 291, 326 broadcasting rights 115, 137, 433, 438
basketball 47, 50, 66, 97, 252, 261, 267, Brohm, Jean Marie 2, 3, 546
296, 332, 370, 432 Brundage, Avery 62, 66, 68, 73–83, 138,
BBC television (UK), 234, 263, 268, 270, 234, 235, 292, 294, 295, 298, 326, 328,
276, 467, 471 329, 331, 418, 419, 421, 464, 554, 563
beach volleyball 90, 369, 432, 555 budgets 2, 4, 5, 7, 8, 10, 32, 52, 82, 94,
beautification, of host cities 138, 195, 120–126, 136, 138, 141, 147, 154, 163,
196, 205, 525 169, 171, 172, 173, 189, 197, 204, 219,
Beijing 2008 Summer Olympic Games 4, 248–258, 265, 268, 276, 279, 294, 305,
5, 6, 10, 18, 43, 69, 70, 82, 95, 103–113, 327, 332, 388, 394, 395, 398, 403, 417,
118n27, 195–206, 206n6, 207n10, 431, 506, 508, 513, 514, 520–524, 528,
207n11, 210, 212, 233, 240, 242–244, 535, 536, 537, 541–544, 546, 552, 553,
249, 250, 257, 262, 266, 267, 276, 277, 556–559, 562, 563, 564, 570, 572, 573
295, 298, 311, 312, 340, 348, 349, 369,
383–387, 395, 398, 399, 402, 470, 505, Calgary 1988 Winter Olympic Games
520, 525, 526, 553, 555, 557, 559, 98, 131, 188, 198, 250, 251, 252, 253,
572, 573 257, 365, 474
Berlin 1936 Summer Olympic Games 5, Canada, Canadians 2, 5, 7, 9, 18, 22, 31,
23, 43, 60–70, 81, 136, 164, 210, 236, 51, 89, 93, 97, 98, 120–131, 142, 154,
263, 293, 298, 323, 326, 329, 332, 420, 235, 243, 248–259, 277, 325, 339, 347,
443, 463, 467, 534, 554, 557, 563 366, 395, 410, 418, 430, 432, 435, 437,
biology, biological 66, 295, 448, 450 475–483, 484, 530, 534, 545, 570
Black athletes 61, 65, 66, 97, 298 candidatures, for hosting mega–events 6,
Black Power salute 21, 64, 66, 263 104, 123, 165, 211, 219, 250, 310, 383,
Blair, Tony 338, 571 388, 389, 509, 570, 574, 577
Blatter, Sepp 468, 471, 571, 572 capitalism, capitalists 2, 6, 36, 90, 104,
blogs, bloggers 275, 278 116, 117, 137, 152, 154, 196, 205, 310,
bobsled 89, 93, 97, 185, 187, 189, 297, 340, 344, 398, 436, 464, 469, 470, 505,
345, 412 521–526, 530, 546, 553
body culture 106, 107, 116, 117, 432 catalyst, Olympics as 242, 304, 312, 492
boosters, boosterism 5, 43, 45, 54, 55, CBS television (USA) 81, 137, 263, 266,
69, 104, 109, 155, 195, 233, 252, 462, 369
470, 476, 527, 575 ‘Celebrate Humanity’ 8, 337–350
boxing 17, 47, 261, 297 celebrity 202, 339, 368, 433, 535, 536
boycotts 5, 18, 21, 22, 23, 61, 62, 64, 65, censorship 312, 313, 541
130, 146, 148, 234, 264, 265, 294, 298, Centre on Housing Rights and Evictions
299, 341 (COHRE) 199, 207n15, 207n16, 525,
brand/branding 8, 69, 109, 134, 139, 558, 574
154, 197, 210, 220, 235, 239, 241, 243, cheating 422, 446, 552, 571
270, 275, 281, 283, 285, 307–310, 312, Chicago 4, 10, 45, 48, 51, 62, 73, 97,
329, 337, 338, 341, 344, 348, 349, 396, 155, 211, 219, 249, 250, 251, 253, 257,
466, 509, 513, 534, 546, 559, 561 350, 469, 476, 478, 481, 482, 535, 536,
Brazil, Brazilians 6, 210–225, 389, 390, 572
465, 509, 572 Chicago 2016 Olympic bid 350, 535,
bribery, corruption 3, 9, 21, 46, 141, 536
215, 223, 245n11, 299, 340, 341, 412, children and youth 20, 26, 29, 31, 32,
418, 461–472, 535, 536, 541, 563, 564, 36, 46, 76, 90, 96, 99, 105, 137, 151,
572, 577 171, 205, 240, 241, 252, 290, 292, 330,
British Amateur Athletic Association 339, 345, 361, 434, 470, 482, 488, 512,
(AAA) 322, 325 575
582 Index

China/People’s Republic of China (PRC), Dassler, Horst 6, 60, 235, 237–240, 265,
Chinese 6, 69, 70, 73–76, 104–113, 465, 466, 468
195–206, 211, 212, 216, 237, 241, 242, de Coubertin, Pierre 1, 4, 15–20, 23,
257, 267, 293, 295, 311, 312, 341, 349, 26–37, 44, 45, 50, 54, 79, 96, 98, 210,
387, 395, 398, 418, 470, 505, 506, 525, 289–296, 313, 321–324, 362–363,
526, 530, 553, 557–559, 573 461–463, 467, 474–477, 546, 554
civil liberties 4, 205, 258 decolonization 72, 74, 558
civil society 27, 106, 144, 166, 167, 346 Delhi 2010 Commonwealth Games
‘Civilization Campaign’, China 201, 104, 212, 570
203, 206 democracy, democratic 18, 27, 30, 48,
classism 97, 99, 433, 434, 487, 494 60, 62, 69, 70, 111, 156, 166, 173, 216,
closing ceremonies 94, 98, 110, 198, 257, 295, 345, 395, 405, 422, 463, 505,
244, 252, 254, 541, 571 522, 538, 540
coaches 66, 98, 294, 304, 323, 361, 410, Denver, Colorado 90, 146, 381
416, 422, 436, 437, 449, 467, 551, 552, deregulation 143, 149, 266
571 developers 88, 146, 223, 249, 250, 254,
Coca-Cola 148, 165, 264, 275, 348, 465, 281, 515–523, 527, 558
466, 467, 470, 527, 536 developing countries 27, 96, 211, 233,
Cold War 5, 72–83, 106, 114, 137, 234, 236, 238, 402, 434, 439
289, 290, 294, 296, 330, 341, 444 Diem, Carl 64, 292, 467
colonialism 105, 106, 111, 339, 432, digital technology 140, 243, 262, 266,
435, 475, 483, 484 267, 270, 274, 275, 278, 282, 283, 285,
commercial rights 305, 309, 310, 311, 338, 399, 535
438 disabilities, people with disabilities 8,
commercialization, commercialism 44, 151, 313, 358–373, 439, 575
72, 82, 93, 114, 155, 165, 235, 237, 268, disabled sport 313, 358–373
295, 314, 341, 349, 438, 533, 546 discourse 7, 8, 10, 140, 143, 149, 154,
commodification 136, 262, 271, 350, 163, 168, 196, 290, 338, 371, 383, 390,
433, 523 394, 400, 404, 431, 475, 478, 487, 508,
Commonwealth Games 10, 104, 212, 509, 516, 517, 526, 552, 565
339, 366, 432, 454, 489, 521, 561, 570, discrimination 62, 79, 80, 89, 98, 296,
574 311, 313, 365, 369, 372, 430, 431, 433,
Communism, Communist countries 6, 445, 560
68, 72–77, 96, 137, 168, 196, 295, 297, discus 15, 16, 80, 417
329, 331, 445 displacement, evictions 94, 112, 170,
Communist Party 6, 168, 196 197, 205, 297, 298, 397, 505, 506,
computer technology (see also digital 520–527, 530, 556, 558, 563, 574
technology) 242, 262, 268, 274–285 dissidents 203, 312, 490, 534, 540
conservative politics 28, 36, 73, 78, 79, diversity 97, 338, 343, 345, 372, 555,
83, 111, 143, 217, 256, 343, 344, 395, 565n12
421, 496 Drapeau, Jean 122–126, 141, 154
consumerism, consumers 8, 114, 115, drugs in sport, see performance-enhancing
135, 224, 279, 291, 310, 340, 341, 344, drugs
349, 350, 363, 394, 466, 515
cosmopolitanism 28, 31, 44, 45, 184, East Asia, East Asians 5, 103–117
201, 204, 310, 347 East End, London 8, 10, 390, 505–517,
cost overruns 120, 124, 127, 152, 254 559, 564
criminalization, of homelessnes/ East Germany 73, 74, 75
poverty 10, 95, 205, 520, 534, 544 Eastern European/Soviet Bloc
cultural imperialism 96, 98, 340 countries 76, 77, 78, 81, 148, 445
cycling, cyclists 47, 261, 324, 372, 413, Ecological Modernisation (EM)
415, 418, 470 383–388
 Index 583

economic boom 135, 140, 141, 179, Eurocentrism 103, 116, 212, 221, 343,
269, 464, 528, 530 444, 554
economy, economic issues 6, 7, 10, 27, Europe, Europeans 9, 18, 23, 47, 51, 54,
28, 32, 34, 68, 80, 88, 90, 91, 96, 104, 63, 74, 75, 77, 79, 81, 93, 96, 98, 105,
109, 113, 114, 117, 121–123, 134–156, 116, 135, 140, 148, 173, 179, 199, 212,
165, 170–173, 179, 183–189, 196, 205, 216, 222, 236, 238, 263, 268, 297, 304,
206, 211, 214, 215, 218, 222, 224, 310, 322, 330, 338, 388, 400, 401, 435,
233–235, 239, 242, 244, 248–259, 270, 445, 446, 461, 462, 463, 464, 472, 537,
289, 290, 311, 332, 349, 363, 367, 554
386–388, 390, 397, 431, 445, 470, 506, European Union (EU) 216, 310, 388,
507, 508, 510, 513, 514, 517, 520, 521, 400, 401, 537, 544
526, 530, 534, 537, 538, 541, 542, 544, exploitation 8, 9, 90, 96, 98, 168, 171, 196,
552–555, 557, 558, 560, 563, 564, 574 204, 223, 224, 264, 306, 307, 328, 329,
education 18, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 35, 36, 343, 432, 438, 439, 461, 464, 470, 572
47, 48, 91, 105, 106, 107, 108, 136, 143, Expo 67 Montreal 122, 123
151, 170, 200, 204, 220, 241, 309, 310, expositions, world fairs 6, 44, 45, 46, 50,
314, 322, 325, 327, 328, 340, 347, 362, 64, 122, 123, 474, 475
363, 389, 431, 433, 436, 482, 508, 510,
512, 536, 551, 560, 576 Facebook 278, 285, 536
1896 revival, Modern Olympic fair play 311, 325, 331, 332, 337, 344,
Games 15, 16, 19, 31, 33, 47, 50, 60, 362, 412, 560
63, 165, 222, 296, 324, 415, 430, 444, fascism, fascists 9, 67, 68, 293, 298, 462,
478, 536 463, 464, 465, 467, 472
employment 6, 121, 128, 135, 140, 141, federalism, Canada 120, 121, 131
322, 390, 465, 506, 510, 513, 515 femininity 89, 433, 438, 439, 444, 445,
England, English (see also United 447, 448, 449, 451, 452
Kingdom) 19, 26, 27, 31, 34, 35, 36, feminism, feminists (see also transnational
51, 53, 83, 121, 144, 202, 291, 322, 325, feminism) 2, 9, 432, 433, 434, 438, 439
358, 415, 472, 477, 505–517, 572 fencing 47, 444
entertainment 110, 135, 147, 185, 187, festivals 16–23, 45, 51, 60, 61, 63, 68,
198, 367, 423, 490, 560 69, 73, 110, 111, 122, 277, 285, 289,
entrepreneurialism, entrepreneurs 6, 290, 292, 293, 296, 309, 346, 477, 479,
142, 149, 155, 213, 237, 262, 271, 329, 481
397, 404, 465, 507 field hockey 83, 172, 576
environmental impacts 91, 92, 93, 187, FIFA (Federation Internationale de
189, 382, 384, 385, 537, 564, 571, 574 Football Association) 104, 110, 113,
environmental legacy 93, 190, 242, 384, 114, 212, 217, 222, 223, 236, 237, 238,
387, 388, 389 239, 265, 327, 465, 468, 469, 471, 555,
environmental issues, sustainability 3, 571, 572
166, 169, 179, 190, 198, 279, 362, FIFA World Cup 104, 110, 113, 212, 217,
381–390 , 505, 508, 533, 546 223, 236, 237, 239, 261, 265, 327, 340,
equality 106, 122, 292, 295, 299, 343, 488, 571, 572
371, 493, 496 figure skating 18, 89, 90, 99, 185
equestrian events, equestrians 17, 19, 67 finance, financial issues 5, 6, 32, 44, 60,
ethics, ethical issues, 46, 96, 105, 106, 61, 69, 72, 80–82, 88, 97, 98, 99, 109,
143, 202, 282, 283, 309, 310, 323, 331, 113, 115, 120, 122, 127, 134–156, 163,
333, 347, 362, 363, 410, 411, 419, 421, 168, 169, 172, 173, 195, 198, 218, 234,
431, 471, 565, 570, 573 235, 241, 243, 244, 248–259, 259n12,
ethnic minorities 46, 90, 95, 97, 98, 99, 261, 264, 270, 275, 279, 309, 322, 338,
116, 338, 343, 345, 507, 511, 524, 558, 366, 387, 403, 462, 508, 509, 513, 514,
574 517, 533, 536, 542, 545, 546, 552, 555,
ethnocentrism 5, 43, 54, 55, 368 573
584 Index

financial crises (see also global financial golf, golfers 47, 97, 261, 296, 325, 339,
crisis, 2000 onwards) 6, 113, 140, 172, 444, 577
173, 275, 545 Google 280, 284
First Nations Peoples, Canada (see governance 8, 74, 113, 134, 156, 179,
Aboriginal Peoples) 180, 184, 186, 214, 236, 328, 346, 395,
fitness 269, 324, 364, 575, 577 397, 404, 512, 513, 517, 552, 554, 563,
five rings symbol 243, 265, 306 564, 577
Flickr 278, 285 grassroots projects/activists 173, 304,
Fordist industrialization 6, 178, 180, 382, 434, 552, 576
183 Great Britain, British 10, 18, 20, 51, 61,
France, French 2, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 75, 81, 98, 122, 135, 141, 236, 249, 250,
33, 34, 35, 44, 51, 61, 88, 124, 164, 254, 256, 276, 277, 292, 306, 322, 324,
180, 183, 184, 235, 263, 268, 290, 292, 325, 326, 330, 331, 338, 342, 359, 364,
322, 368, 382, 415, 418, 446, 463, 466, 367, 388, 417, 421, 436, 446, 478, 488,
565n12, 571 511, 513, 551, 557, 558, 561, 571
Franco, General 9, 234, 236, 463, 464, Greece, Greeks 1, 6, 15–24, 27, 31–35,
471 50, 51, 52, 53, 63, 64, 67, 152, 163–174,
Franco-Prussian war 26, 27, 28, 30, 292, 212, 244, 290, 293, 321, 324, 329, 337,
461 363, 385, 386, 394, 398, 415, 461, 467,
fraud 445, 453, 472 523, 524, 533–547
free market 135, 143, 148, 401 ‘Green Games’ 179, 383, 384, 386, 389,
freedom of assembly 4, 95 573
freedom of speech 4, 95, 310, 312 Greenpeace 91, 92, 93, 383, 386
Freeman, Cathy 10, 339, 487–496 Guttmann, Ludwig 358, 360, 362, 364
French Third Republic 28, 30, 31 gymnastics 18, 47, 89, 105, 149, 261, 432

gender verification 9, 420, 426n33, Havelange, João 236, 237, 265, 465, 468,
443–455 469, 471, 572
gender, gender issues 2, 9, 90, 136, 296, health issues 26, 27, 31, 36, 62, 68, 77,
311, 348, 369, 420, 430–439, 443–55, 130, 136, 143, 151, 171, 363, 412, 418,
488, 554, 563 421, 433, 434, 451, 452, 465, 510, 512,
General Electric 266, 267, 472 556, 560, 561, 575, 576
gentrification 94, 390, 397, 507, 515, hegemony 95, 216, 224, 343, 372, 432,
520, 521, 526, 527, 534 434, 437, 439
geography, geographical 5, 88, 94–99, Hellenic, Hellenism 31–36, 64, 163, 165,
115, 116, 124, 135, 181, 220, 262, 397, 398
431, 434, 435 Helsinki 1952 Summer Olympic Games
German Democratic Republic (GDR) (East 23, 68, 72, 78, 137, 138, 179, 263
Germany) 73, 74, 75, 413 heterosexual attractiveness 369, 437,
Germany, Germans 23, 34, 36, 43, 47, 438
51, 60–70, 75, 91, 92, 128, 139, 164, hierarchy 107, 112, 180, 200, 284, 295,
234, 263, 293, 297, 298, 329, 368, 388, 364, 372, 463, 468, 469, 475, 521, 570
413, 420, 445, 464, 465, 482, 554 high-performance athletes 96, 219, 244,
Gigantism, in Olympics 72, 82, 563, 564 295, 371, 373, 410, 412, 419, 422, 561
global capitalism 9, 214, 342, 435, 437, highways 94, 138, 172, 253
438, 439, 469 Hill & Knowlton 463, 471
global financial crisis, 2008 onwards Hitler, Adolf 61–69, 97, 293, 298, 420,
169, 173, 215, 233, 507, 530, 533, 560 445, 467, 528
globalization 2, 3, 104, 118n37, 154, homeless people, homelessness 3, 4, 10,
205, 213, 262, 314, 340, 344, 431, 435, 76, 95, 112, 205, 396, 431, 520, 521,
462, 533 522, 527, 528, 529, 530, 534, 540, 544,
Goebbels, Joseph 65, 68, 164, 420 558, 574
 Index 585

homophobia and heterosexism 284, International Paralympic Committee

433, 434 (IPC) 313, 358, 360, 362, 363, 365,
housing 3, 10, 18, 92, 108, 110, 125, 366, 371, 372
145, 171, 185, 199, 255, 390, 397, 405, International Sport and Leisure (ISL)
506, 510, 511, 514, 516, 520–530, 556, 237, 238, 239, 265, 466, 468, 469, 471
558, 574, 575 international sport federations 81, 89,
human rights 2, 4, 73, 78, 79, 80, 82, 107, 195, 324, 327, 328, 332
99, 116, 163, 295, 311, 312, 313, 358, internationalism 2, 26, 31, 35, 116, 139,
372, 381, 430, 435, 540, 557, 558, 573 212, 215, 292
human rights violations 4, 79, 163, 295, Internet 114, 198, 262, 266, 267, 270,
312, 573 274, 279, 282, 284, 285, 438, 535, 540,
humanism 106, 116, 203, 212 547
humanitarianism 282, 342, 367 intersexuality 452, 454
Hungary, Hungarians 16, 23, 51, 80, 294 investment, investors 97, 109, 112, 113,
115, 121, 125, 135, 139, 142, 153, 154,
ice hockey 18, 19, 89, 94, 98, 99, 277, 196, 212, 218, 221, 223, 242, 255, 262,
328 268, 387, 398, 438, 506, 508, 509,
ideologies 5, 26, 27, 28, 30, 36, 44, 60, 512–516, 520, 537, 539, 542, 544, 556,
62, 63, 66, 67, 69, 105, 107, 112, 113, 561
117, 134, 144, 147, 154, 181, 196, 204, Iran, Iranians 283, 555
206, 214, 223, 235, 240, 249, 281, 292, Iraq, Iraqis 24, 167, 472, 557
295, 297, 314, 329, 340, 348, 349, 350, Israel, Israelis 8, 69, 146, 263, 294, 394
362, 363, 411, 416, 445, 464, 474, 487,
488, 491, 494, 537, 543, 544, 554 Japan, Japanese 23, 48, 67, 104–108,
image construction 195, 196, 204, 206 111, 113, 140, 212, 237, 293, 294, 328,
immigration, immigrants 21, 179, 211, 449, 476, 535
338, 345, 488 Jewish athletes 61, 62, 65, 293, 298
Indigenous peoples (see also Aboriginal John Hancock 233, 241, 242
peoples) 10, 98, 487–496 Johnson & Johnson 233, 240, 241, 242
industrialization 27, 104, 178, 211 Johnson, Ben 410, 412, 418
industries 2, 99, 112, 135, 151, 179, 183, journalists 3, 48, 64, 77, 82, 92, 93, 96,
186, 200, 249, 264, 269, 389, 400, 404, 97, 275, 277, 289, 323, 365, 402, 436,
423, 431, 435, 467, 469, 505, 510 437, 438, 491, 495, 535, 541, 544, 571,
inequalities/inequities 6, 76, 143, 179, 573, 577
196, 205, 206, 214, 215, 223, 225, 295, judo 107, 172, 554
434, 448, 494, 505, 506, 514, 517, 563
inflation 124, 125, 127, 141, 149, 154, 197 Keynes, John Maynard 135, 140, 142,
infrastructure 82, 110, 115, 121, 130, 153
135, 138, 155, 165, 169–172, 180–186, Killanin, Lord 128, 235, 299, 331
195, 196, 218, 221, 250, 253–256, 275, Kissinger, Henry 471, 472
277, 304, 305, 384, 389, 395, 398, 401, Klobukowska, Eva 447, 449, 454
404, 505, 506–514, 520, 522, 525, 526, Kodak 233, 240, 241, 242, 264, 348
536, 559, 564 Korea, Koreans 74, 75, 84n12, 105–108,
Innsbruck 1976 Winter Olympic Games 111–113, 212, 244, 253, 311, 365, 472,
137, 138, 178, 331 522, 523, 553
intellectual property 2, 270, 274, 285, Kuala Lumpur 1998 Commonwealth
305, 309, 313 Games 104, 212
International Association of Athletics
Federations (IAAF) 104, 238, 244, 443, labour 97, 136, 140, 141, 150, 154, 168,
444, 445, 446, 450, 451, 453, 454 199, 204, 248, 251, 255
International Monetary Fund (IMF) 145, Lausanne, Switzerland 23, 233, 419, 464,
544 471, 536
586 Index

law, legal issues 2, 9, 19, 24, 80, 139, marathon 52, 53, 67, 83, 111, 296, 324,
172, 189, 202, 218, 270, 304–314, 398, 325
412, 422, 448, 449, 468, 474, 481, 482, marketing, marketing rights 27, 37, 89,
483, 488, 520, 522, 524, 526, 527, 529, 139, 195, 203, 213, 219, 233, 237, 238,
538, 539, 540, 542, 559, 563 239, 240, 241, 243, 251, 256, 259, 269,
Le Play, Frédéric 28, 29, 30, 462 278, 282, 306, 308, 309, 333, 339, 344,
leadership 6, 36, 113, 152, 195, 217, 347, 350n6, 364, 366, 438, 465, 466,
223, 235, 296, 298, 314, 329, 366, 386, 470, 508, 573
388, 432, 437, 492, 554, 570, 577 Marx, Karl 326, 461
legacies 5, 6, 7, 10, 37, 91, 94, 103, 129, masculinities 368, 487
135, 152, 155, 163, 164, 169, 171, 172, masculinizing influences, of sport 432,
179, 184, 185, 186, 188, 196, 211, 218, 444, 445
220, 221, 224, 244, 251, 253, 281, 304, mass communications 27, 114, 135, 140,
305, 310, 345, 362, 385, 387, 390, 396, 184, 197, 219, 235, 243, 262, 263, 279,
397, 398, 399, 401, 405, 462, 505–517, 283, 289, 338, 399
520, 528, 534, 545, 561, 573, 575 mass media 10, 88, 89, 97, 217, 250,
leisure, leisure goods 19, 112, 136, 223, 275, 284, 314, 340, 368, 433, 437, 438,
261, 269, 332, 358 487, 534
Lenovo 233, 240, 241, 242 McDonald’s 275, 348
leverage 120, 155, 243, 313, 348, 513, medals, Olympic 15, 18, 19, 52, 64, 66,
552, 562 72, 74, 77, 83, 96, 97, 107, 307, 311,
liberal feminism 9, 430, 432, 436, 439 324, 326, 330, 367, 372, 417, 423, 447,
licences 139, 147, 237, 308, 450 449, 491
Lillehammer 1994 Winter Olympic media rights–holders 114, 281, 577
Games 8, 20, 93, 265, 382, 560 media villages 92, 94, 183, 184, 276
lobbying, lobbyists 89, 107, 144, 237, Melbourne 1956 Summer Olympic
249, 264, 289, 430, 470, 558, 571, 572, Games 5, 72, 77, 80, 81, 82, 83, 88,
576 137, 236, 263, 294, 328, 330, 341, 521
London 7, 8, 10, 23, 44, 68, 79, 81, 106, merchandise, Olympic 7, 127, 147, 306,
109, 123, 136, 138, 168, 201, 219, 222, 308
244, 249, 251, 257, 263, 285, 297, 304, Mexico City 1968 Summer Olympic
305, 307, 309, 312, 314n1, 315n19, Games 21, 66, 128, 138, 141, 154,
324, 330, 339, 358, 360, 364, 383, 384, 328, 418, 534, 555
387, 388, 390, 394, 399, 405, 436, 464, Mexico, Mexicans 5, 21, 66, 128, 138,
474, 481, 505–517, 533, 534, 555, 556, 141, 154, 234, 237, 263, 294, 328, 329,
557, 559, 564, 571, 574 415, 418, 524, 534, 553, 555
London 1948 Summer Olympic Games Middle East 74, 216, 575
68, 81, 136, 263, 330 middle-class people 99, 109, 322, 332,
London 2012 Summer Olympic 349, 422, 435, 489, 523, 526
Games 219, 244, 285, 304, 305, 309, military personnel/resources 21, 28, 77,
360, 364, 384, 387, 388, 390, 505–517, 111, 112, 145, 164, 170, 204, 223, 292,
533, 534, 559 294, 394, 395, 401, 420, 444, 472, 540
London Organizing Committee of the modernity 36, 103, 104, 106, 112, 195,
Olympic Games (LOCOG) 305–308 198, 203, 217, 434
Los Angeles 1984 Summer Olympic modernization 27, 106, 107, 112, 113,
Games 4, 5, 22, 43, 88, 106, 114, 123, 140, 153, 155, 170, 180, 181, 205, 211,
129, 134–156, 234, 237, 240, 244, 264, 215, 224, 385, 388, 390, 398, 405, 525,
294, 327, 331, 365, 467, 495, 554, 555 537
Louisiana Purchase Exposition 5, 44–55, Montreal 1976 Summer Olympic Games
474–484 3, 5, 18, 22, 76, 120–131, 138, 141, 148,
luge 89, 99n1, 252 154, 236, 243, 244, 314n2, 331, 418,
Lula, Luiz Inácio 6, 210–225, 389 466, 545
 Index 587

Moscow 5, 21, 69, 123, 129, 138, 152, No Olympic Tokyo 2016 Network 535
210, 212, 234, 236, 264, 269, 294, 312, non–governmental organizations
466, 467, 573 (NGOs) 116, 130, 218, 552
Moscow 1980 Summer Olympic Games Nordic skiers 89, 365
69, 152, 294, 312, 466 Nowell, Charley 475–484
multiculturalism 8, 337–350, 351n9,
351n10, 555 Olympians 16, 20, 43, 45, 49, 50, 64, 65,
multinational corporations 2, 114, 115, 69, 116, 152, 220, 277, 283, 306, 314,
140, 180, 185, 402, 433, 436, 461, 526 323, 324, 371, 432, 433, 448, 449
Munich 8, 69, 92, 109, 138, 141, 154, Olympic Charter 20, 26, 89, 90, 91, 110,
264, 294, 394 130, 292, 305, 309, 310, 313, 331, 332,
Munich 1972 Summer Olympic Games 372, 381, 418, 419, 465, 468, 509
138, 141, 294, 394 Olympic Congress 274, 275, 285, 323,
Muslims 434, 439, 555, 557 326, 329, 469
myth, mythologies 7, 16, 21, 49, 65, 66, Olympic corporate class 6, 7, 233–244
73, 79, 114, 164, 242, 289–299, 314, Olympic cultural program 276, 306
321, 329, 342, 348, 363, 368, 431, 435, Olympic ethos 67, 145, 282, 283, 309,
461, 533, 545, 570, 575 310, 322, 325, 332, 412, 417, 423
Olympic family 92, 244, 269, 298, 330,
Nagano 1998 Winter Olympic Games 435, 465
91, 92, 104, 179, 212, 266, 535 Olympic flame 10, 17, 63, 64, 222, 339,
national identity 45, 54, 121, 163, 173, 467, 493
268, 293, 487, 488, 490, 491, 492, 495 Olympic industry 88, 90, 91, 93, 94, 99,
National Olympic Committees (NOCs) 430, 431, 433, 435, 438, 439, 547, 570,
74, 80, 130, 147, 238, 239, 265, 270, 572, 577
309, 329, 347, 365, 366, 410, 551, Olympic motto (‘Faster, Higher, Stronger’)
558 306, 371
national pride 166, 167, 173, 202, 206, Olympic oath 324, 330, 467, 468
330, 341 Olympic Park Legacy Company, London
nationalism 5, 26, 28, 31, 32, 36, 43, 44, (OPLC) 304, 513, 514, 516
46, 54, 55, 111, 123, 201, 233, 289, 290, Olympic Partners 239, 243, 308, 310, 332
293, 322, 325, 328, 329, 345, 433, 487, Olympic Solidarity Program 96, 554
496, 542 Olympic spirit 116, 311, 312, 314, 348,
‘Nazi Olympics’ (see Berlin 1936 Summer 560
Olympic Games) Olympic studies 1, 2, 3, 6, 7, 332, 551
Nazis 60, 61, 62, 63, 64, 66, 67, 68, 69, Olympic truce 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 472
70, 164, 297, 298, 420, 463, 464 Olympic values, ideals 26, 68, 79, 220,
NBC television (USA) 137, 265, 267, 290, 299, 310, 313, 314, 337, 345, 348,
270, 277, 283, 369, 438, 472 513, 517
neo-colonialism 9, 431, 432, 438, 439 Olympic villages 67, 69, 77, 82, 130,
neo-liberalism, neo-liberals 6, 8, 112, 169, 171, 183, 189, 203, 218, 236,
135, 143, 147, 154, 214, 217, 340, 347, 259n12, 259n13, 277, 294, 539
396, 397, 431, 529 Olympism, fundamental principles 6,
new media 7, 270, 274, 275, 278, 283, 10, 20, 26, 27, 36, 43, 68, 80, 105, 106,
285, 536 212, 235, 239, 244, 269, 274, 279, 304,
New Zealand 2, 51, 130 305, 309, 310, 311, 313, 314, 321, 340,
newspapers 32, 46, 49, 50, 51, 65, 77, 348, 362, 363, 373, 381, 410, 419, 431,
98, 113, 164, 186, 367, 368, 432, 437, 435, 507, 509, 513, 534, 537, 551, 552,
481, 490, 491, 492, 495, 498n36, 539, 554, 564
540 opening ceremonies 43, 75, 76, 111,
Nike 88, 339, 488, 494, 578n20 112, 128, 262, 267, 276, 278, 312, 339,
No Games Chicago 536 361, 437, 490, 491, 492, 554
588 Index

opinion polls 165, 166, 558 popular culture 2, 153, 367

opposition, to Olympics 5, 22, 36, 90, post-Games issues 7, 93, 152, 248, 399,
145, 148, 163, 173, 214, 239, 251, 294, 559, 564, 571, 573
364, 405, 434, 505, 509, 533–547, 554, Pound, Richard 235, 237, 269
558 poverty, social deprivation 4, 95, 98,
oppression 3, 111, 343, 350, 430, 433, 125, 198, 204, 206, 211, 217, 223, 224,
538 269, 293, 304, 396, 397, 435, 454, 493,
Organizing Committee of the Olympic 507, 510, 512, 515, 527, 546, 560, 564
Games (OCOG) 2, 23, 81, 88, 91, 93, Powell, Colin 167, 173, 541
108, 137, 138, 155, 170, 210, 219, 237, pragmatism 24, 80, 124, 147, 329, 331,
239, 252, 257, 258, 276, 277, 361, 370, 332, 542, 571
383, 400, 556 private sector 135, 143, 147, 154, 235,
Orientalism, Orientalist 117, 563 257, 400, 515, 555
Owens, Jesse 60, 64, 65, 66, 67, 236, 342 privatization 4, 95, 109, 114, 143, 154,
198, 527, 544
Paralympic Games, Paralympic athletes professional sport, professional
8, 37, 210, 217, 220, 223, 254, 275, 305, athletes 47, 139, 141, 275, 278, 299,
313, 358–373, 505, 510, 555 321, 324, 328, 329, 331, 332, 371, 398,
Paris 18, 23, 26, 31, 32, 33, 34, 44, 45, 400, 413, 416, 419, 466, 479, 526, 559,
51, 121, 123, 124, 136, 323, 324, 325, 576
359, 415, 461, 466, 470, 474, 478, profits 4, 6, 127, 137, 140, 145, 148,
534, 555 155, 167, 185, 251, 254, 280, 314, 389,
paternalism 36, 214, 421, 453, 462, 463, 469, 542, 543–546, 556
563 propaganda 2, 61, 62, 65, 76, 77, 79,
patriotism 31, 45, 201, 241, 258, 327, 201, 203, 206, 328, 329, 340, 420
505 protest, protesters 3, 21, 22, 23, 50, 52,
peace 20, 22, 23, 26, 28, 30, 31, 32, 61, 66, 78, 80, 91, 94, 95, 98, 103, 107,
68, 76, 79, 105, 106, 203, 212, 252, 291, 112, 163, 166, 167, 168, 173, 203,
292, 293, 294, 295, 299, 309, 310, 348, 208n35, 250, 278, 283, 293, 327, 329,
362, 363, 368, 371, 463, 554, 575 332, 350, 361, 365, 470, 492, 508,
performance-enhancing drugs 9, 53, 82, 533–547, 557, 574
223, 269, 341, 368, 396, 410–424, 446, public debt 141, 172, 506, 516
454, 467, 468, 471, 540, 544, 552, 564 public relations 4, 91, 128, 144, 250,
philosophy 1, 6, 28, 36, 110, 116, 135, 283, 341, 363, 387, 471, 472, 537
143, 153, 212, 290, 292, 310, 321, 325, public sector 146, 147, 154, 513, 515
329, 362, 363, 364, 410, 411, 419, 465, ‘pure’ Olympic sport/athlete 73, 80, 81,
555 210, 235, 252, 323, 341, 370, 424, 431,
physical culture 47, 48, 49, 53, 295, 476 436, 453, 467
physical education 29, 31, 49, 105, 106, Pyeongchang, Olympic bids 104, 253
290, 327, 332
pillars of the Olympic movement 91, Qatar 212, 572
116, 290, 381, 558 Quebec 120–131, 142
police, policing 63, 65, 76, 79, 94, 95,
97, 173, 223, 224, 254, 306, 308, 312, racial profiling 44, 343
325, 326, 330, 394–404, 469, 495, 521, racism, racist 5, 61, 62, 66, 78, 79, 80,
526, 528, 529, 534, 540, 574 83, 95, 96, 97, 98, 99, 298, 326, 433,
political economy 103, 115, 233, 240, 434, 453, 487, 488, 492, 493, 494, 496,
559 578n22
politicians 4, 21, 75, 77, 78, 80, 88, 213, railways 46, 172, 180, 186, 205, 462,
234, 251, 258, 469, 491, 535, 542, 544, 515, 522
564 Reagan, Ronald 6, 134, 135, 144, 148,
pollution 46, 92, 197, 382, 387 154, 345
 Index 589

Reaganomics 142, 153, 154 Samaranch, Juan Antonio 9, 233, 234,

real estate 94, 139, 146, 167, 249, 250, 235, 236, 237, 243, 244, 331, 332, 341,
255, 256, 397, 521, 522, 523, 530, 544 365, 366, 381, 418, 462– 472, 570
recession 10, 141, 150, 170, 243, 256, Sapporo 1972 Winter Olympic
258, 514, 515, 516, 517 Games 93, 104, 188, 212, 328, 535
reconciliation movement, Australia security 3, 4, 8, 60, 69, 78, 82, 92, 126,
351n19, 487–496 passim 143, 148, 169, 190, 197, 204, 216, 218,
recreation 29, 80, 93, 172, 244, 329, 224, 241, 242, 250, 251, 253, 256, 257,
362, 432, 434, 437, 560, 562, 563, 575 258, 269, 294, 306, 394–405, 523, 540,
recycling 93, 267, 382 545, 574
referendum 90, 129, 146, 147, 381, 545, Semenya, Caster 443, 448, 451–455
558 Seoul 1988 Summer Olympic Games 5,
reform IOC 3, 28, 29, 30, 31, 74, 79, 10, 103–114, 155, 198, 212, 244, 265,
120, 143, 150, 202, 204, 215, 312, 471, 298, 365, 410, 418, 436, 468, 520, 522,
544, 546, 573, 577 523, 526, 527, 555
remediation, of contaminated sites 254, sex chromosomes 446, 448, 450
386 sex testing, see gender verification
rents, rental accommodation 94, 520, sexism 434, 444, 487, 494
521, 522, 523, 524, 525, 526, 530, 556 sexual exploitation/harassment 9, 90,
repression 79, 199, 312, 530 432, 437, 439, 572
Republican Party, Republicans, USA 78, sexualities 348, 368, 430, 433, 443–455
79, 96, 135, 145, 148, 155 shantytowns, favelas 199, 223–224, 390
resistance 3, 9, 20, 33, 116, 148, 163, ski jump 89, 185, 187, 189, 297
284, 439, 444, 474, 475, 483, 484, 521, ski resorts 92, 94, 187, 253
523, 533–547 skiing 18, 89, 181, 184, 187, 328, 365,
rhetoric 8, 10, 36, 137, 166, 201, 213, 419
216, 239, 241, 243, 244, 292, 304, 310, soccer (see also FIFA) 43, 97, 173, 267,
311, 344, 390, 496, 507, 509, 520, 537, 327, 576
546 Sochi 2014 Winter Olympic Games 92,
Riefenstahl, Leni 66–68 95, 100n29, 212, 249, 251, 257, 285,
Rio de Janeiro 2016 Summer Olympic 395, 572
Games 6, 210–225, 244, 285, 383, 384, social Darwinism 106, 364
388, 389, 390, 469, 509, 535, 572 social exclusion 19, 22, 23, 68, 169, 204,
rituals 17, 110, 116, 314, 403, 464, 467, 297, 324, 325, 364, 366, 372, 397, 487,
536 561
Rogge, Jacques 172, 242, 289, 291, 295, social housing, affordable housing 200,
299, 337, 388, 469, 472, 545, 570, 571, 251, 513, 514, 516, 521, 523, 524, 526,
575 527, 529, 530, 573
role models 105, 371, 423, 433, 437, 575 social impacts 168, 171, 199, 431, 509
Roma peoples 524–526, 558, 574 social inclusion 252, 310
Rome 1960 Summer Olympic Games 5, social responsibility 190, 203, 570, 573,
27, 72, 75, 76, 81, 82, 91, 137, 138, 575
153, 155, 186, 263, 294, 331, 360, 417 social transformation/renewal 304, 507,
rowing 47, 169, 322, 539 512
Rudolph, Wilma 83, 342 social welfare 82, 135, 145, 151, 155, 214
Russia, Russians 18, 19, 77, 92, 95, 106, socialism, socialists 2, 27, 203, 214, 215,
211, 216, 257, 395, 420, 446, 572, 573 217, 249, 461, 462, 463, 525, 537
socioeconomic status, social class 28, 96,
Salt Lake City 2002 Winter Olympic 97, 173, 184, 223, 322, 324, 325, 382,
Games 43, 91, 92, 96, 98, 179, 210, 388, 430, 431, 512, 561
219, 257, 337, 340, 341, 344, 395, 471, sociology 2, 6, 9, 28, 395, 410, 411, 412,
474 414, 452
590 Index

South Africa, South Africans 22, 52, 79, 394, 395, 401, 418, 474, 487– 496, 506,
80, 130, 210–225, 298, 299, 347, 372, 520, 522, 528, 529, 533, 541, 556, 559,
443, 453, 488, 494, 496, 564, 572 560, 562, 573, 575
South America, South Americans 48, 49, symbols 74, 83, 108, 111, 139, 164, 178,
63, 213, 215, 220, 221, 222, 223, 236, 217, 220, 234, 265, 292, 306, 307, 314,
401 363, 365, 470, 491, 492
Spain, Spanish 9, 62, 80, 234, 236, 331, synchronized swimming 18, 89, 432
388, 449, 463, 464, 472, 561
Sparta, Spartans 22, 23 Taiwan 75, 76, 80, 106, 242
spectators, sports fans 20, 43, 50, 51, 52, taxation, taxpayers 123, 129, 141, 148,
53, 67, 82, 92, 108, 110, 111, 114, 127, 154, 253, 255, 308, 362, 537, 573
185, 202, 252, 261, 269, 274, 279, 285, television audiences 89, 137, 243, 268,
306, 348, 365, 368, 370, 437, 463, 465, 340
477, 492, 493, 530, 551, 563 television coverage 7, 60, 72, 81, 82,
sponsors 3, 4, 6, 7, 88–90, 93, 114, 115, 88, 89, 90, 93, 96, 114, 127, 134, 135,
126, 134, 136, 138, 147, 154, 197, 233, 138, 147, 183, 189, 197, 217, 234, 235,
236–243, 251, 259, 261–271, 275, 277, 243, 261–271, 274, 276, 289, 331, 340,
285, 289, 292, 306–308, 311, 332, 343, 350n6, 367, 436, 438, 465, 467, 470,
349, 364, 384, 401, 433, 438, 465, 466, 471, 472, 490, 491
467, 470, 471, 508, 513, 554, 576, 577 television revenues 7, 82, 134, 138, 234,
St Louis 1904 Summer Olympic Games 235, 265, 269, 270
4, 9, 15, 43–55, 324, 325, 474–484 television rights 81, 127, 137, 266, 267,
St Moritz 1948 Winter Olympic Games 269, 270
68, 106 tenants 94, 142, 522, 526, 527, 530, 559
stadiums 17, 33, 43, 51, 52, 53, 65, 67, tennis 47, 97, 172, 261, 296, 329, 332,
80, 94, 108, 109, 112, 124, 127, 136, 444, 448, 495, 577
169, 197, 243, 244, 262, 265, 349, 370, terrorism 3, 4, 8, 69, 146, 341, 394, 396,
388, 431, 490, 524, 525–529, 559 402, 404
stakeholders 91, 166, 187, 278, 283, 305, terrorist attacks, September 11, 2001 3,
311, 358, 509, 512, 513, 514, 560, 576 4, 345, 394, 395, 399, 402
stereotypes 66, 343, 364, 367, 368, testosterone 238, 239, 420, 447, 448, 453
433 The Olympic Program (TOP) 185, 239,
Stockholm 1912 Summer Olympic 240, 241, 242, 265, 275, 554, 430
Games 136, 326, 452 Third World countries 73, 74, 75, 77,
streaming (video) 267, 270, 274, 438 140, 238
street sweeps 205, 528, 529 Tibet, Tibetans 295, 557, 574
street vending 310, 312, 397 ticket sales 97, 127, 147, 185, 269, 306,
Sullivan, James 49, 51, 53, 325 399, 527
‘super crip’ 367, 368, 371, 375n48 Tokyo 1964 Summer Olympic Games 5,
superpowers 5, 22, 72, 76, 211, 311, 463, 10, 44, 82, 103–114, 123, 137, 138, 141,
546 153, 155, 211, 219, 234, 293, 294, 331,
surveillance 76, 113, 203, 204, 394–404, 472, 535
412, 418, 421, 450 torch relay 17, 60, 63, 64, 111, 148, 164,
Sweden, Swedish 138, 267, 330 278, 350, 467, 557, 574
swimming 47, 67, 252, 261, 372, 466, Toronto, Ontario 91, 250, 360, 528, 533,
559, 561 558, 570, 572
Switzerland, Swiss 23, 51, 80, 179, 233, Tour de France 413, 417
237, 328, 468 tourism, tourists 4, 43, 92, 109, 110,
Sydney 2000 Summer Olympic Games 3, 112, 139, 146, 155, 172, 178, 181, 184,
4, 7, 10, 69, 91, 93, 107, 166, 171, 212, 185, 186, 188, 198, 213, 223, 224, 251,
219, 239, 244, 252, 257, 266, 278, 305, 253, 256, 258, 269, 278, 508, 520, 545,
337, 338, 360, 365, 370, 372, 382–390, 559
 Index 591

track and field events 16, 32, 43, 46, 47, universities 10, 185, 186, 191n1, 200,
50, 51, 52, 53, 54, 60, 63, 64, 66, 67, 419, 552
97, 105, 152, 203, 236, 244, 252, 261, urban development/renewal 10, 108, 112,
305, 323, 325, 365, 415, 416, 420, 431, 135, 180, 195, 197, 205, 242, 249, 505,
434, 443, 446, 450, 453, 466, 467, 470 506, 509, 512, 517, 520–530, 559, 564
traditions 15, 18, 36, 44, 47, 61, 62, 63, 93, urban planning 112, 186, 508
96, 98, 107, 108, 112, 116, 121, 143, 151, USSR, Soviets 5, 18, 23, 70, 72–83, 137,
164, 198, 235, 262, 276, 279, 283, 290, 148, 212, 234, 236, 237, 264, 294, 295,
292, 296, 314, 329, 337, 338, 363, 367, 329, 416, 420, 426n25, 444, 554, 558
371, 421, 434, 448, 462, 465, 469, 474, utopia, utopian views, 103, 342, 347, 348,
477, 488, 510, 525, 535, 536, 543, 545 350, 371, 547
transnational feminism 2, 9, 430, 434,
435, 439 Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympic Games
transnational issues 2, 9, 31, 105, 109, 3, 4, 18, 93, 94, 248–259, 278, 282, 285,
114, 213, 285, 430, 434, 435, 439 424n7, 430, 530n8, 534
transportation 70, 91, 92, 94, 138, 197, Vancouver Organizing Committee for the
207n19, 220, 253, 382, 387, 400 Olympic Games (VANOC) 253, 254,
Tromsø (Norway) 2018 Olympic bid 256, 534
249, 251 Vancouver-Whistler 2010 Bid
Trudeau, Pierre 122, 125, 126 Corporation 249, 250, 251, 253, 256,
Turin (Torino) 2006 Winter Olympic 257
Games 6, 91, 97, 178–190, 191n8, volleyball 432, 438, 471, 472
191n12, 191n15, 192n26, 192n27, 249, volunteerism, volunteers 92, 147, 166,
257, 258, 337, 395 201, 208n27, 208n28, 281, 361, 403, 505
Twitter 7, 275, 278, 282, 283, 536
wars 18, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 26, 27, 30,
Ueberroth, Peter 147, 154, 237, 472 45, 68, 69, 75, 77, 88, 106, 111, 137,
unions, unionized workers 135, 142, 139, 144, 153, 164, 212, 250, 264, 265,
153, 213, 251, 463 293, 294, 297, 348, 350, 368, 394, 395,
United Kingdom (UK) (see also England, 411, 417, 420, 436, 461, 463, 464, 467,
English) 2, 26, 261, 263, 268, 270, 541, 557, 575
276, 283, 305, 307, 321, 388, 389, 395, water polo 83, 294, 577
401, 405, 505–517, 557, 560, 561, 564 Web 2.0 267, 274, 281, 282
United Nations (UN) 18, 20, 24, 76, 79, web sites 97, 266, 267, 270, 278, 283,
80, 130, 213, 216, 347, 381, 382, 400, 304, 333, 449
401, 435, 496, 523, 558, 560, 563, 565, Weber, Max 108, 468, 469
574, 575 weightlifting, weightlifters 416, 420
United States of America, Americans 2, 3, welfare state 141, 149, 154
4, 5, 6, 15, 18, 21, 23, 43–55, 61, 62–67, West Germany 23, 68, 69, 75
74–81, 83, 90, 95–98, 108, 123, 124, wheelchair sports 360, 365, 367, 372
134–156, 167, 185, 204, 212, 215, 219, ‘white elephants’ 189, 506, 535, 545,
221, 222, 234–240, 257, 261, 263–267, 573, 578n15
269, 282, 291, 292, 321, 324–328, 330, white ‘race’, whiteness 64, 67, 96, 345,
331, 332, 339, 342, 345, 349, 365–368, 487
372, 394, 395, 399, 403, 413, 416, 420, Winter Olympic Games 2, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8,
421, 433–436, 444, 449, 463, 466, 471, 60, 76, 77, 88–99, 104, 106, 122, 137,
472, 475, 482, 483, 494, 527, 529, 535, 146, 178–190, 235, 243, 248, 250, 251,
541, 544, 554, 557, 558, 573 252, 253, 257, 264, 265, 276, 278, 305,
United States Olympic Committee 328, 331, 337, 340, 341, 344, 365, 372,
(USOC) 66, 147, 328 381, 382, 395, 396, 403, 430, 446, 534,
universalism 36, 74, 116, 137, 292, 362, 558, 560
372 winter sports 88–99, 184
592 Index

women 9, 15, 17, 18, 27, 37, 65, 72, 83, World War One 73, 78, 96, 164, 293,
89, 90, 111, 136, 203, 261, 296, 338, 295, 297, 298, 358, 420, 462
359, 364, 365, 369, 417, 420, 422, World War Two 6, 23, 44, 68, 73, 78, 83,
430–439, 443–455, 467, 472, 476, 479, 134, 136, 183, 212, 263, 293, 295, 297,
488, 493, 554, 570, 572, 575, 576 298, 330, 358, 359, 420, 464
Woolf, Virginia 430, 436, 437 wrestling 17, 47, 296
working-class people 10, 136, 213, 327,
510, 520, 521, 526, 553, 562 xenophobia 202, 495
World Anti-Doping Code 410, 419,
424n3, 424n5 Young, David 1, 16, 291, 322
World Championships 238, 443, 453,
454, 455 Zeus 16, 17, 22, 64