Boycott, a word that makes noise but doesn’t solve anything

The universe of geopolitics looks, not always closely or frankly involved, at a war that started by the Russian invasion of Ukraine without having the slightest idea of when or how the scourge will end.

While a handful of Nostradamus on social networks uselessly predict ideas of outcomes, winners and losers (none of the three things are compatible with the concept of war), Olympism and, fundamentally, Paris 2024 are inevitably beginning to be crossed by the issue.

It was enough for the IOC to make its most recent announcement regarding authorizations and restrictions for Russians and Belarusians and solidarity with Ukrainians so that the word boycott will begin to proliferate again in the world of the rings.

It is interesting and paradoxical to review something about the history of sports and boycotts.

It happened to FIFA. For example, when most European federations refused to play the first World Cup Uruguay 1930. Or when Argentina renounced that of Brazil in 1950. There were more similar episodes and almost all of them responded to the same cause: disrespect because they wanted the tournament to be played on their own land. Consequences of boycotts? None in particular. Hardly anyone remembers those absent and all soccer fans know that Uruguay won both tournaments.

I’m moving on to tennis. And none other than Wimbledon, the most prestigious tournament in that sport. In 1973, most of the top 30 players in the ranking stood in solidarity with the Yugoslav ring Pilic who, based in Germany, was suspended for not representing his country in the Davis Cup. Consequence of the boycott? None in particular. What’s more, that was the record audience attendance year at the All England tournament.

From now on, it happened, and several times, to Olympism.

Let’s review some of the two most memorable ones.

Several countries, led by the United States, decided not to attend the competitions as one of several measures in repudiation of the presence of Soviet troops in the middle of the civil war in Afghanistan. Countries such as Federal Germany, Canada, Japan and Norway joined the North American claim. However, not only will we remember those games for the Misha Bear and the farewell of the incomparable Nadia Comaneci, but athletes from historic North American allies such as Austria, Spain, Brazil, Australia, France, Italy and even Great Britain competed in Moscow, still under the IOC flag.

Four years later, revenge arrived. Under the idea of an anti-Soviet smear campaign, 13 nations joined the Kremlin’s stance not to travel to Los Angeles. However, just as Romania and Yugoslavia decided to turn their backs on the proposal of the bloc leader of which they were part and China itself, which was not in Moscow, decided to return to the games after 32 years precisely on North American soil, nothing will be remembered with more energy than the four gold medals of Carl Lewis or the gigantic display of white grand pianos at an opening ceremony that had its moment in Versace mode.

Of course, when it came to fair claims of trafficking, many of us would have loved it if things had been different. As in South Africa, where the boycott of the Springboks, the sporting symbol of excellence of the white minority, was a fundamental gateway because the anti-apartheid tsunami led by Nelson Mandela entered.

However, in general, nothing that is proclaimed ends up becoming anything useful or with a positive result.

Perhaps we should ask ourselves if using sports as a tool to limit what we consider unfair, unacceptable or unbearable is not, above all, a statement with good press and great shock waves, but without real consequences. And if not, it is ungrateful to exclude from an Olympic game athletes who represent countries with which, in the meantime, we maintain strong commercial ties.