Russia's war in Ukraine has split the world of fencing, a sport with powerful political connections that far outrank the sport's mainstream popularity, and threatens to derail the Paris 2024 Olympics.
As one senior Olympic insider told The Ticket this week, "the Olympics is in all sorts of mess", trying to navigate a path to Paris that both condemns Russia's war on Ukraine, while not holding the country's athletes responsible.
The "neutral" path is one many Western nations cannot, and will not, tolerate.
The war has sparked a duel between two former Olympic gold-medal winning teammates who occupy influential positions in politics and sport.
Vadim Gutzeit and Stanislav Pozdnyakov fought together as members of the Unified team that won the men's sabre event in Barcelona 1992. Now they are fighting each other.
Gutzeit is Ukraine's youth and sports minister and sits on the board of the International Fencing Federation (FIE).
Pozdnyakov is the president of the Russian Olympic Committee and, until being removed from the position last year, was the president of the European Fencing Confederation.
To complicate matters further, sitting in the middle is another former Olympic gold medal fencer and the current president of the International Olympic Committee (IOC), Thomas Bach.
There are warning signs that the damaging boycott era of the 1980s might be repeated.
Return of 'neutral' Russian athletes sparks division
In the weeks before the IOC's executive board recommending that "neutral" athletes from Russia and Belarus be allowed back into international competition, the International Fencing Federation (FIE) had already voted 88-48 in support of Russian and Belarusian passport holders being able to return.
Almost immediately, European nations who support Ukraine's wish that Russians remain banned, began cancelling events.
France, Germany, Sweden, Denmark and Finland have cancelled fencing competitions rather than having to accept competitors from Russia and Belarus.
Ukraine has banned its athletes from competing — in any sport — where Russians or Belarusians are competing.
Such a boycott of qualification events means Ukrainians are likely to be absent from Paris 2024, even if the war was over before the games begin.
Russia, meanwhile, prevented its fencers from travelling to an Olympic qualifying event in Poland because of "unacceptable" conditions asking athletes with Russian or Belarusian passports to sign a declaration stating they:
- Do not support the war in Ukraine, which is a flagrant violation of international law and international treaties
- Meet the conditions of neutrality, i.e., they are not associated with the regime of Vladimir Putin, against whom the International Criminal Court in The Hague issued an arrest warrant as a person suspected of committing war crimes in Ukraine
- Are not soldiers or are not employed in Russian or Belarusian military or national security bodies.
Russia's ban, issued on April 2, became moot on April 5. Under pressure from the FIE to drop its stance, organisers in Poland instead opted to cancel the event altogether, stating on their website:
"… the changes deprived the organisers of the World Cup … of any influence on the process of accepting registered competitors and support staff."
And:
"The Polish Fencing Association supports the Ukrainian Fencing Federation in its efforts to remove, from the competitions and the world fencing environment, people who support the brutal war in Ukraine and support the regime of Vladimir Putin …"
Athletes label return of Russians as 'catastrophic error'
German fencer Lea Kruger was part of a recent panel of athletes and legal experts voicing their opposition to both the IOC and FIE decisions allowing the return of previously banned athletes.
"I think, for all of us, it was just a mess in the first place, because then, of course, here were the questions of how they can come back," Kruger said.
"Nothing is clear, we don't know about how the Olympic qualification should work now and nothing was clear … what about doping? What about how to act?
"How can a Ukrainian athlete compete against a Russian? I mean, you have to think, also, we have weapons in our hands.
"It wasn't our decision … the federations take decisions about us, the athletes, and we have to deal with the consequences.
"With this decision, they have put the interests of Russia and Belarus in first place, above the interests of the athletes, especially the Ukrainian ones."
On the eve of the IOC's executive board meeting where it was recommended to remove the ban on athletes from Russia and Belarus, Kruger signed an open letter, along with around 300 other fencers, calling on the IOC and the FIE to maintain the ban until "Russia withdraws completely from Ukrainian territory".
"The FIE is not fulfilling its duty of care for athletes, especially for Ukrainians," it read.
"Your insufficient leadership in completely banning Russia and Belarus is being called out by athletes and civil society across the globe.
"You have chosen Russian and Belarusian interests over the rights of athletes, notably Ukrainian athletes and, by doing so, you are failing to support the very people your organizations are meant to support.
"This egregious, unprovoked war and its breach of the Olympic Truce cannot be ignored or rewarded.
"Returning to business as usual would be a catastrophic error and, thus, we again urge you to uphold the suspensions of Russia and Belarus."
Ultimately, the letter failed to sway the IOC.
The Olympic body cited principles of non-discrimination in relaxing its ban, and pointed to the hypocrisy of nations calling for athletes from countries involved in one war to be banned while there are dozens of other conflicts raging around the globe without athletes from those nations ever being mentioned.
However, the fencers who signed the open letter argue that choosing to support athletes from Russia and Belarus is discriminatory against the athletes and people of Ukraine.
Ukraine's four-time Olympic fencer, and team gold medallist from Beijing 2008, Olga Kharlan, was part of the FIE Congress that voted to allow previously banned athletes back into the fold.
"For me, as one of the Ukrainian fencers, it's really tough to manage it mentally. Of course, right now, it's even physically," she said.
"I was a part of this Congress … what can I say … I [didn't] hear any word about solidarity with Ukrainian fencers or the Ukrainian federation.
"For me it was something unbelievable … war is still going [on] and all the world knows about this."
Russian fencer Sofia Velikaya, a five-time Olympic medallist, told the TASS news agency that she believed "common sense finally prevailed".
"Sport should provide equal rights and conditions … despite the fact that this is the most wonderful news lately, we understand the upcoming difficulties," Velikaya said.
"We will solve the problems in stages. We are ready to overcome the difficulties."
Legends. Rogues. Champions. Fencing.
The power and influence fencing wields in Olympic and political circles is significant. It is one of the five foundation sports on the Olympic program.
Europe's dominance in the Olympic movement is evident. With the exception of American Avery Brundage from 1952-1972, every single president has been a white European male.
For the first 60 years of the Olympics, it was Europe that also dominated the sport of fencing.
In the 1960s, the Soviet Union became a force and, then — following its collapse — Russia became a rising power during the 2000s.
That period has also seen China becoming a force in the sport.
Fencing, it seems, has closely mirrored the ebbs and flows of world politics.
When Russia invaded Ukraine, the International Fencing Federation's president was Russian billionaire Alisher Usmanov.
He stepped aside shortly after the war began.
With his assets frozen by the European Union, his multi-million-dollar donations to the sport's governing body stopped, but Russia's influence remained.
The founder of the modern Olympics, Baron Pierre de Coubertin, was a fencer himself.
In the book, A Legacy of Fencing, author George Pogosov sums up the history of the sport this way: "Legends. Rogues. Champions. Fencing".
Pogosov also happens to be a fellow teammate of Gutzeit and Podznyakov in winning gold at the Barcelona 1992 Olympics for the Unified Team.
That unity now lies in tatters.
The IOC, battling through "all sorts of mess", is in a duel of its own, fighting political interference.
In a move sure to anger Ukraine and much of Europe's political elite, the IOC has announced it will financially support any Ukrainian athlete who has been told by the government to withdraw from sporting contests ahead of Paris 2024.
Nearly 100 years ago, it was the Paris 1924 Olympics that were impacted by the same sport in what is known as the "Puliti affair".
It involved a fencer from Italy, an official from Hungary, and was wrapped up in a mix of geo-politics, growing global tensions, the rise of fascism, and national pride.
Five months after the games, Italian fencer Oreste Puliti travelled to the Yugoslavian border where he met Hungarian fencing judge Georges de Kovacs, to settle their dispute in a sabre fight, "in accordance with the code of honour".
According to reports, the fighting was relentless, leaving both men seriously wounded. It was stopped by mutual agreement.
Through it all is the ghost of the Olympic founder Pierre de Coubertin.
He fought against the flying of national flags at the games, perhaps knowing where it would lead.
De Coubertin's Olympic creed is today used by the Academy of Fencing Masters as a description of the sport in the modern era:
"The most important thing in the Olympic Games is not to win but to take part, just as the most important thing in life is not the triumph but the struggle. The essential thing is not to have conquered but to have fought well."
Those words appear to have lost their meaning, there being no discussion yet of stopping the current fight in fencing, nor the war in Ukraine.
