Photo courtesy of Kremiln.ru via Wikimedia Commons.
Russian President Vladimir Putin awarded Olympic figure skater and gold medalist Evgeni Plushenko with an Order of Honor at a ceremony in 2014.
By Nina Sydoryk ’25
News Editor
A few months back, Italian figure skater Daniel Grassl announced his aim to change coaches. He was to leave Italy and train in Russia under arguably one of — if not the — most infamous coaches in that country: Eteri Tutberidze.
You may recall her name from around two years ago when news broke that a 15-year-old female figure skater, Kamila Valieva, had been exposed for doping during the Women’s Event at the 2022 Olympics in Beijing.
Valieva was, and continues to be, Tutberidze’s pupil. You can imagine, then, how such a move on the part of Grassl would ignite criticism and scrutiny from the public. One can imagine the financial compensation Grassl* would be providing Tutberidze and, in consequence, the Russian economy.
There are other implications to consider as well. If this coach, who has previously faced accusations of abuse and doping, remains able to draw in students from foreign nations — well, perhaps all those accusations of misconduct are rendered groundless in the eyes of the public. Think, too, on the ethical implications of such a move. On this last matter, I would rather imagine — and hope — I need not explain.
Nonetheless, Grassl’s move was not without its defenders, as yet again, we find ourselves met with the phrase “sport is outside of politics.” This phrase has plagued us since the first sporting federation moved to ban Russian and Belarusian athletes from international competition following Russia’s full-scale invasion of Ukraine that began in February 2022, only four days after the conclusion of the 2022 Winter Olympic Games in Beijing. A riveting coincidence indeed.
But why has this plagued us so, even if the matter seems a rather black-and-white case in terms of what is right and what is wrong? And although I am sure that I draw no illusions regarding my own stance on the matter, I must admit that there is no easy answer to the question of sport and politics — at the very least, not to the question of consequence and application. And yet, the answer to the question of whether sport and politics can ever be severed from one another is a resounding one – no.
Sports and athletics have never existed without the presence of political influence, not even in ancient Greece at the first Olympiad.
The existence of any formal institutional body for a given discipline and the existence of real, domestic or international competition makes this consequence inevitable. The very fact that a person represents something – whether that be a larger nation, state, county or city – matters. The fact that some entity backs the athlete, or that the athlete themselves is backing some entity, matters very much indeed.
Athletes have sponsors, do they not? Athletes receive funding from their sporting federations, do they not? In certain cases, athletes rely on their ability to win to remain in the game. And in a sport like figure skating, which has a long history of corruption, winning means more than just being named the winner.
It means prize money as well as domestic and international prestige — and it means that, in countries like Russia, athletes can grasp onto security and stability in a society that is anything but. In return, the state obtains a tool of soft power, one that can generate a very strong hold in various international spheres of influence.
Take Kim Yuna, a woman dubbed by many as the “queen” of figure skating. Her career, in actuality, was not very long. She retired at the age of 23 after an extremely controversial second-place finish at the 2014 Sochi Olympics in Russia.
Her image was perhaps bolstered given the scandal of the gold medal being awarded to Adelina Sotnikova, a Russian who objectively faltered in her technical performance. Then and now — despite who Kim herself is as an individual — Kim as a brand grants South Korea enormous soft power.
The athlete and the nation are symbolically tethered together. The effect of Japan being the nation of Hanyu Yuzuru, of Argentina being that of Leonard Messi, of Portugal being that of Cristiano Ronaldo, the United States of Simone Biles, and so on, can hardly be measured.
We cannot delude ourselves and act as if we do not merge our ideas of nationality with the athletes themselves. It prefaces every statement, every honor and every win. In this way, sports citizenship functions quite like regular citizenship in that it dictates other realms of achievement: science, art, music, film, mathematics and so on.
But there is something distinct about the fields, is there not? Intuitively, we feel this is true. There must be some reason that the conversation on sporting participation gains more news coverage than does, for instance, the fact that Russia has also been excluded from competitions like the International Mathematics Olympiad.
Perhaps the answer is simple: sports and athletics can appeal to everyone. There are many disciplines, and it is indeed a very accessible way to channel one’s patriotism. Though football — also referred to as soccer — is not a distinctly popular sport in the United States, many tune in to follow the performance of their national team at the World Cup.
We care about athletes. We care deeply about who they are and what they represent. For those few that become unmistakable personalities, we grant them a celebrity-like status.
Over time, the individual becomes a part of a larger mass, a larger body of athletes that in and of itself obtains a reputation. The American women’s gymnastics team now has its own reputation, for instance, as does the dominance of America in the realm of track and field. There is an automatic understanding that, given a Norwegian’s participation in skiing competitions, the fight truly becomes one for the silver or bronze. Given the presence of multiple Norwegians, the fight becomes one for a place in the top five.
And so we see this effect, and we reach here our main problem.
The line between the individual and their role as a member of a very powerful and influential national institution is not so distinct — not so at all.
Even in the case of less successful athletes, this remains true.
The unknown athlete might have an obscure name among the other competitors, but it does not matter. You remember indeed the flag under which they competed, and you must admit to this. “Who was he that had that unfortunate turn on the last leg?” You will ask. And your friend will answer, “I don’t remember, but I know for certain he was Spanish.”
Yet, we cannot ignore the humanity of these individuals and speak without remorse. Do not think me so quick to disregard the dreams of young athletes hoping to compete internationally, grow their careers and so on. In fact, we must consider this a casualty of the existence of this marriage between sports and politics — that we push and we break our children for the purpose of the state.
If you are a young athlete, you have a dream. You provide a use to the state, and thus, you can be sure that, as long as you remain as such, your dream is tangible. So, you hold on a little longer. You push yourself, and you sacrifice yourself a little longer until you lose your passion for the sport in totality and retire early after a difficult career. But the benefit you brought to the state that rewards only the very few — that in of itself is very real. More importantly, perhaps, for the nature of this discussion, is that this benefit is felt internationally.
The matter of Russia and how it devours its children is a topic that is long, dark and often haunting. For the sake of this argument, however, I will briefly surmise some essential information and details.
The aforementioned case of Valieva is much more sinister than the average person may know. The role of the coach, Tutberidze, and of the Russian machine — that trains these young girls for so long as their body can handle until they “expire” and retire as teenagers at the age of 16, 17 or 18 — is unquestionable.
The role of other schools, such as that of former Russian Olympic gold medalist Evgeni Plushenko, that has run propaganda campaigns — which include his child pupils — under the guise of ice shows across the country, is likewise unquestionable.
It is no secret that the sporting body within Russia sees its athletes as tools of political power. So why should we deny it ourselves when it has been so plainly confirmed for us?
Given this, forgive me if I do not share the same sentiment as those who want Russian athletes to return.
If it is the interests of the athletes themselves that the proponents of reversing the ban have in their minds, then I may assure them that the lives of these athletes are tumultuous, whether they compete internationally or not. I assure you that there is no distinction between pro-war and anti-war Russian athletes.
How can we even begin to decipher what lies truly in their hearts?
So you see, reality is much more averse to being seen in black and white than we may initially believe.
While these athletes — especially the children — suffer in many ways, they also benefit and perpetuate the machine of the state in many others.
And my focus here, on Russia** and on skating, is not without grounds. It seems to me that there exists some air of exoticism, of an often difficult-to-comprehend fetishization — of these Russian disciplines.
Even when we do not look favorably on the nation itself, we never hesitate to admit that their artistic and sporting capacity is unrivaled, unmatched. We do not need Russians to make their absence from the sporting world known; we impose this feeling on ourselves, whether or not it has such substantial merit.
Do not, Russian figure skating — and even more infamously, Russian ballet — have undoubtedly prestigious reputations? Regardless of whether or not someone understands anything about these fields, they are certainly aware that these reputations exist.
Why is this so? Why are we so amazed by Russia? Why do we allow them such soft power? Why do we act in their favor, even when it contradicts our true intentions?
Why does it seem that we cannot hurt Russia with sanctions or bans in sports when the list of scandals against it has been endless?
I implore all who are interested to read more about the aforementioned scandal surrounding the 2014 Olympic Games, the judging scandal in the 2002 Olympic Games in Salt Lake City, the numerous state-sponsored doping scandals and the abuse allegations in Russian skating schools, especially in regard to their treatment of women and minors.
And yet, it remains to have had little real effect.
So the natural conclusion is this: what other solution is there but a complete and total ban and bar from change of sporting citizenship?
In reality, the sporting world of Russia is an unstable disorder of corruption, abuse and a thinly-veiled illusion of excellence.
Now, this is not an exhaustive summation of the sports and politics problem. I focused here on one discipline. But in truth, each sport has its very own set of inner workings and follows very different structures of transfer of political, economic and social power. There is hardly any way my piece here will be comprehensive and totally applicable in all respects.
But at the core of the matter, I do not believe you can successfully part from what I’ve said here.
That is, can we truly say that these athletes represent solely themselves? If this were so, we would not observe a rapid increase in Russian athletes’ aim of changing their sporting citizenship. Many have already done so. But they remain Russian.
Diana Davis, daughter of Eteri Tutberedzie, and her partner Gleb Smolkin may represent Georgia, but they competed once for Russia in an Olympic Game. Anastasia Gubanova may now represent Georgia and has gone on to win a European gold medal for the nation, but she lives and trains in Russia.
A flag of neutrality, as was used in the Beijing Olympics in 2022, is a facade, a false fantasy of separation that is not really there. What matter is it that it is not the official flag of Russia that is raised when the athletes are victorious, when the flag of neutrality bears its original colors? What does it matter when the athletes return home as heroes? What does it matter when the athletes return home and are awarded medals by Putin himself? I say it is of no matter.
And yet, we are still blind. For every current figure skating competition, there are countless comments calling on the return of Russian athletes. I am here to tell you that those athletes you hold so high in your regard, to the point of claiming the sport has regressed since their departure, were not so dominant, to begin with.
The perception of a sport being pushed forward by way of inflated and controversially awarded technical and artistic achievements can result quite seamlessly from the existing perceptions — and indeed stereotypes — that we hold against others. We see, thus, that the power the sport holds as an institution often matters more than the reality of what is actually being presented right there in front of us.
So, you can convince me not that the individual matters more to you, the consumer and lover of sport, than the valence of the sport itself, nor that the state cares more for the individual than for the political, social and economic benefit they bring.
And athletes themselves understand this, too. They are keenly aware of the fact that when they retire, someone else will take their place; they know that as soon as they are unable to perform, someone else will again take their place. When they falter, they know they will face national indignation — or far worse.
When Andrés Escobar accidentally scored an own goal in the 1994 FIFA World Cup, which contributed to Colombia’s elimination from the tournament, he was murdered.
When Simone Biles pulled out of the 2020 Tokyo Olympic Games, the public response was horrific.
On a personal level, we enjoy athleticism; we find hope in those moments that reveal a true sportsman-like quality that embodies the human spirit and capacity for good that exists within us.
But on an aggregate level, we are all responsible for the way that sport satisfies and satiates our desire to dominate others, whether those others are people who live in nearby towns or people who live in other nations entirely.
When we as a nation win over our rivals in an international match, we do not win over them in sport alone, but in the totality of them as a people.
So, as long as politics and money play their definitive and often dastardly hand in the world of sport, and as long as Russia continues its genocide against Ukraine, I say — the Russian ban must stay.
*Grassl, at that time a member of the Italian national team, would also receive funding from the Italian Ice Sports Federation towards the move, but whether this funding contributed to the move is unclear.
**I urge you all to look further into the dangerous nature of the international football world and the rampant political and soft power implications of everything- involved in that sport. The most recent World Cup that took place in Qatar amidst allegations of human rights abuses in the construction of the stadiums does much to illustrate my point. Other sports have similarly dark histories.