The Modern Olympiad: A Clash of Ideologies

THE MODERN OLYMPIAD: A CLASH OF IDEOLOGIES Michael Vlahos -LL Americans seem to love the Olympics. They adore the hoopla and the flashy pageantry, and fall in a hush with the parade of noble sentiments. Above all, they gather by the millions at the collective television arena as national boosters, cheering for American "Olympic Gold." What could be a safer, more natural outlet for national pride? Catharsis is absent, however. We once won Olympiad after Olympiad —seven all told until 1956. That year, a second Soviet national team entered the lists and since then has captured every contest save one. That exception, in 1968, was marred for us by the protest of two of our runners, and, even though our medal count edged out the Soviets, they captured more gold. In 1976 we slipped to third after the East Germans. But Americans do at least know how to lose gracefully. Many Americans, however, discern a darker side beneath that fervid hoopla. To many, the Olympics is a metaphor for war, a surrogation of international conflicts in the sacrosanct arena of amateur sport. For others, who accept the risk of corrupting for a greater good, the Olympics are a frenetic sports counterpart for the United Nations, where global competitions and rivalries can have a positive outlet, lessening world tensions through the agency of human communication. But even in this form, to many, the Olympics represent merely a cynical veneer of universal fellowship in sportmanship, beneath which is played out the drama of war in nylonpolyester . Those states that choose to define the event according to their Michael Vlahos is codirector of the Security Studies Program and research professor at SAIS. Professor Vlahos is also author of The Blue Sword: The Naval War College and the American Mission, 1919—1941 and America: Images ofEmpire. 181 182 SAIS REVIEW breadth of investment can turn a harmless competition into a triumph of one ideology—one national will—over another. In this context, the triumph of Soviet and Socialist Sport seems to corrupt the Olympic mise-en-scène and us as well. By competing, we accede to the norms of symbolic struggle and risk mirroring those whose ideology we deny. By no longer denying—even if victorious—we join with them. Soviet abstinence, however, only compounds the contradictions . Although their absence permits fair play in the "Chariots of Fire" nostalgia, the manner of their suspension only intensifies the overarching theme of the modern games: sport as a ritual of political struggle. How could this have come to be? Is there something in the origins of the Olympic idea embodied by the ancient Greeks, something in the Olympic source as envisaged by de Coubertin which permits the games their present form? The Olympics were three things to the Greeks: an artistic exaltation of their preparations for war; a religious celebration of shared spiritual values; and a Panhellenic gathering in a riven world ofpoli and endless war. As Norman Gardiner put it: "The athletic ideal of Greece is due to the practical. . . . Every citizen was a soldier, and physical fitness was a necessity. The practical character of Greek sports indicates a nation of warriors."1 This utility was reflected in the presentation of events. The so-called heavy events, those that not only were the most celebrated, but which most closely approximated the origin and practicality of martial symbolism were held on the last day. The climax of the Olympiad was the race in full armor: the "hoplite race." In full battle-dress in the sun of midday, the mettle of martial ardor was tested. The other events of the fourth and final day included wrestling, boxing, and the Pankration, a brutal combination of the two. The horror contest permitted opponents to gouge each other's eyes out in the quest for victory.2 But wait. The king ofSparta forbade this most hard-bitten of warrior-states from participation. As Ludwig Drees tells it: In standing wrestling the outcome of the contest was determined byjudges. For this reason the Spartans did not take part. . . . Seneca reports that for a Spartan to acknowledge defeat was considered too humiliating, and the Spartan rulers forbade participation in either the...