Think Again

Think Again: The Olympics

The Olympic Games were founded to bridge cultural divides and promote peace. Instead, they often mask human rights abuses, do little to spur political change, and lend legitimacy to unsavory governments. Worse, the Beijing Games could still be the most controversial of all.

"The Olympics Aren't Political"

Yes, they are. International Olympic Committee (IOC) President Jacques Rogge said in March, "We do not make political choices, because if we do, this is the end of the universality of the Olympic Games." Two weeks later, Rogge observed indignantly, "Politics invited itself in[to] sports. We didn’t call for politics to come." But after 75 years of watching the political manipulation and exploitation of the Olympic Games, can anyone actually believe this?

Trapped by its grandiose goal of embracing the entire "human family" at whatever cost, the IOC has repeatedly caved in and awarded the games to police states bent on staging spectacular festivals that serve only to reinforce their own authority. Of course, the most notorious example is the 1936 Berlin Games, which were promoted by a network of Nazi agents working both inside and outside the IOC. Pierre de Coubertin, the French nobleman who founded the modern Olympic movement, called Hitler's games the fulfillment of his life's work. As a reward for this endorsement, the Nazi Foreign Office nominated him for the Nobel Peace Prize.

But the IOC’s history of working with unsavory regimes didn't end with the Second World War. The 1968 Olympics in Mexico City were awarded to a one-party, faux democratic government that hoped to use the games to legitimize its rule. Like the 2008 Games, they were confronted with massive antigovernment demonstrations that culminated with the Mexican Army mowing down 300 protesters. (The IOC has never acknowledged this greatest of Olympic-related political crimes.) The 1980 Moscow Olympics were only awarded to the Soviet Union when, in 1974, it threatened to leave the Olympic "family" after losing its bid for the 1976 Games. The IOC awarded the 1988 Olympics to Seoul in 1981, one year after South Korea's military government carried out a massacre in the city of Kwangju, where paratroopers crushed a citizens' revolt against the junta, killing at least 200 and injuring more than 1,000 people.

Whether unwelcome or not, politics is a part of the games. The problem is, the IOC seems not to have a clue as to what to do about it. Having failed to anticipate the scope of the anti-China protests this year, and lacking any real political clout, the IOC has fallen back on old clichés about Olympic "diplomacy" and its "nonpolitical" mission on behalf of peace and human rights.

"The Olympics Promote Human Rights"

False. When the IOC awarded the games to China in 2001, it assured the world that it was "not naive." There would eventually be "discussions" about China's human rights policies, the IOC promised. It was apparently the committee's hope that the games would catalyze some sort of political opening. By the spring of 2008, as Chinese troops stormed into Lhasa, the IOC was claiming that the games had "advanced the agenda of human rights" by putting China's human rights record on the front pages of newspapers around the world. That the committee would have much preferred to be spared this attention was wisely left unsaid. Nor has the IOC been willing to demand better behavior from China's rulers. IOC president Rogge prefers to condemn "violence from whatever side."

What the Olympics promote instead is a form of amoral universalism in which all countries are entitled to take part in the games no matter how barbaric their leaders may be. Some argue that the United Nations follows the same principle. But don’t be fooled. On a good day, the United Nations can affect the balance of war and peace. On its best day, the IOC cannot. What the IOC offers instead is a highly commercial global sports spectacle. It was instructive, for instance, to hear in April the sentimental invocations of "the Olympic family" as the IOC and the United States Olympic Committee quarreled in Beijing over their shares of global revenues from the games.

"Olympic diplomacy" has always been rooted in a doublespeak that exploits the world's sentimental attachment to the spirit of the games. In the absence of real standards, the spectacle of Olympic pageantry substitutes for a genuine concern for human rights. At the heart of this policy is a timid and euphemizing rhetoric that turns violent demonstrations and state-sponsored killings into "discussions," a combination of grandiosity and cluelessness that has long marked the IOC's accommodating attitude toward unsavory Olympic hosts. Even today, with regard to Beijing, the committee has fallen back on its old habit of claiming to be both apolitical and politically effective at the same time. Although the IOC "is not a political organization," it does claim to "advance the agenda of human rights." Sadly, neither is true.

 

"The Olympics Are a Catalyst for Change"

Prove it. One way to assess whether the games are a catalyst for change is to take a look at what happens to the citizens of the host cities when the games come to town. Pre-Olympic repression is a tradition whenever the games are entrusted to authoritarian regimes. Just ask the departed Jews and persecuted anti-Nazis of 1936 Berlin. The Nazi regime readily complied with IOC demands that anti-Semitic signs be removed from certain public venues, even as its brutality continued unabated. The 1980 Moscow Olympics were rationalized by the ioc as a unique opportunity for Western visitors to open up a totalitarian society. But one journalist who covered the games later recalled Moscow as "a city gutted of life and ordinary people."

The only sort of change the games seem capable of catalyzing is the aesthetic kind. During the 1988 Seoul Games, for example, South Korean officials drove traditional dog soup restaurants into back alleys so as not to offend foreign sensibilities.

This time around, Chinese authorities are expelling street beggars. More than 1 million migrant workers -- without whom the construction of the Beijing Olympic facilities would have been impossible -- are reportedly being carted out of Beijing. Shops that sell pirated DVDs have been closed down. And more than 50 prominent political dissidents have been jailed in advance of the games.

Like the IOC officials who thought they were changing Hitler’s behavior in 1936, modern Olympic officials imagine that they can influence the autocrats in Beijing. The foreign media presence in China, Rogge said in April, would be "unprecedented," a "revolution." But China's autocrats had already announced that there will be no live television broadcasts from Tiananmen Square during the games. Rogge sounded a plaintive note: "We have no army; we have no police force. The only strength we have is values. We can only fight with values." But fighting for values requires a willingness to sacrifice on behalf of struggle. The problem with the IOC is that it equates ideals with the staging of pomp and circumstance. That leaves no room for the kind of sacrifice that confers moral credibility on real activists.

 

"The Olympics Are a Moneymaker"

Yes, but for whom? In the beginning, the games were an international athletic competition between countries. Today, they are mostly an enormous marketing scheme for everyone from major multinational corporations to billionaire developers. The IOC plays the role of impresario, enjoying the political capital that derives from being taken seriously as an international organization.

Rogge's IOC reportedly took in combined revenues of more than $4 billion from the 2002 and 2004 Olympic Games. Much of what the IOC makes comes from selling corporate sponsorships and television rights to the games. NBC, for instance, paid the committee $894 million for the right to broadcast the 2008 Games in the United States. Meanwhile, other multinationals are paying millions just to have their name associated with the Olympic brand. Coca-Cola, McDonald's, General Electric, and nine other major sponsors have invested an average of $74 million each to sponsor the Beijing Games. In return, they get access to a massive audience of 4 billion television viewers and hundreds of millions of Chinese consumers. Even so, some financial analysts were warning as early as May that being a 2008 Olympic sponsor was a waste of money.

Governments invest billions of taxpayer dollars to stage the games in hopes of boosting tourism and urban infrastructure. But such spending is fraught with risk. The 1976 Montreal Games incurred a $1.5 billion debt that was not paid off until December 2006. The fiasco became known in Canada as "The Big Owe." The 1984 Los Angeles Olympics are regarded as the first "profitable" games since 1932. The “profit” is routinely estimated to have been between $200 million and $250 million. Such calculations, however, ignore the use of public funds, infrastructure costs, and security costs. A U.S. Government Accountability Office report on the games estimates that Americans paid $75 million to support the L.A. Games. The 2002 Salt Lake City Winter Games cost Americans at least $342 million.

The huge sums countries are willing to invest in the Olympics continue to escalate to unprecedented levels. The 2012 London Games will cost Britain's taxpayers more than $20 billion. But that's only half what the Chinese are spending on Beijing's "festival of peace." It's unlikely ordinary citizens will ever see tangible returns on these investments. But the authoritarian regime in Beijing will celebrate the games as a national triumph worth any price.

 

"The Beijing Games Are the Most Controversial Ever"

It depends. Olympic controversies generally fall into two categories. The first involves boycotts of games held in democratic societies, such as the boycott of the 1976 Montreal Games by 22 African countries after New Zealand sent a rugby team to play in apartheid South Africa. This act was, in effect, a secondary boycott that was not aimed at the host country. The Soviets led a similar boycott of the 1984 Los Angeles Games in retaliation for U.S. President Jimmy Carter’s boycott of the 1980 Games in Moscow.

The second kind of controversy is more contentious. It involves Olympics staged by dictatorships in collaboration with the IOC. The 1936 Berlin Games and the 1980 Moscow Games were both protested on political grounds. Bitter conflicts over U.S. participation in the Nazi Olympics erupted in the United States in 1935 and 1936. Catholic and Jewish organizations, along with trade unions and anti-Nazi factions inside the major sports federations, waged an energetic but futile struggle to keep American athletes out of Berlin. The U.S. boycott of the Moscow Games protested the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan, the persecution of Soviet dissidents, and the country's restrictions on political freedoms. Likewise, protests against the Beijing Games have targeted Chinese brutality in Tibet and the country's energy deals with Sudan and Burma, as well as other forms of internal repression.

But what separates the Beijing Games from earlier controversies is the sheer clout of China within the geopolitical system. The Nazi regime of 1936 had nothing comparable to China’s global reach today, and the Soviet economy in 1980 was a dead man walking. What we can say for sure is the world's emotional investment in the entertainment and inspiration provided by the Olympic Games guarantees an uproar if the political forces that rage outside the stadiums threaten the spectacle -- which means the most heated controversies surrounding Beijing probably have yet to unfold.

 

"The IOC Is Corrupt"

 

More than you know. The corruption was never worse than when Juan Antonio Samaranch, an unreconstructed Spanish fascist, was president of the IOC from 1980 to 2001. Samaranch brought with him from Franco's Spain an authoritarian style that facilitated the bribery of IOC members, destroyed any chance of curbing doping, and appointed a generation of committee members who never dared to oppose him.

Samaranch, who insisted on being called "Excellency," filled the IOC with such characters as South Korean intelligence operative Kim Un Yong and Indonesian timber magnate Bob Hasan. Both have served prison time for corruption. Then there's Lee Kun Hee, the chairman of Samsung Electronics (convicted of bribery in 1996) and Francis Nyangweso, once the military commander in chief for Ugandan dictator Idi Amin in the 1970s. Nyangweso remains on the IOC board to this day. Why this rogues' gallery was recruited into a "peace" and "human rights" organization remains a mystery.

In fairness, one improvement in the way the IOC operates should be acknowledged. After the 1999 bribery scandal in which IOC members were paid off to support Salt Lake City's bid for the 2002 Winter Games, the IOC established a technical committee comprising a small number of vetted members to oversee the host city selection process, thereby reducing the risk of bribes to less trustworthy colleagues. The one topic this committee will not address, however, is whether staging the games in a repressive society might be a bad idea. Last year, the IOC rewarded Russia's pseudo-democracy with the 2014 Winter Games. When protesters showed up during the IOC's visit there in April, they were beaten by police.

 

"The Olympics Are a Glorious Tradition"

No. But that's what Jacques Rogge and the IOC want you to think. So spectacular is the Olympic experience in Rogge's mind that in giving the games to China he declared: "We cannot deny one fifth of mankind the advantages of Olympism." To be sure, the Olympic movement has entertained billions by staging world-class athletic competition. But have the Olympic Games really lived up to the lofty expectations of founder Pierre de Coubertin, who envisioned them as a peace movement? Any cause-and-effect relationship between the Olympic Games and the absence of armed conflict is suspect at best. The Olympic century that began in 1896 turned out to be the bloodiest in human history (though this fact did not prevent the IOC from seeking a Nobel Peace Prize).

The real genius of the committee is its ability to create and sustain the myth that it promotes peace. In reality, the Olympic "movement" is a racket that has provided the IOC's ruling elite with small luxuries and a fleeting celebrity very few of them could have achieved on their own. The IOC has served as a home for a long procession of shady and self-serving people. Many recruited themselves into national and international sports federations in order to ride the bureaucratic escalator into the Olympic elite. Samaranch, for example, started out in a Spanish roller-hockey federation.

Admirers of the Olympic "movement" can point to the success of a show business internationalism that has survived a tumultuous history. An institution this hardy, one might argue, must offer something of value. This year, perhaps, it is a starring role in celebrating China's astonishing economic success story. Just don’t ask about human rights.

Think Again

Think Again: Israel

Six decades after its founding, the Jewish state is neither as vulnerable as its supporters claim nor as callous and calculating as its critics imagine. But if it is to continue defying all expectations, Israel must first confront its own mythology.

"Israel Is a Successful Democracy"

Sort of. From what began as an impoverished and war-ravaged country flooded with Jewish refugees from Europe and the Arab world, Israel has grown into a regional military power with a per capita GDP that exceeds all its neighbors. Unusual among post-World War II states, it has also managed to maintain an uninterrupted parliamentary regime for 60 years. Israel's status as the Middle East's only credible democracy plays a major role in its close alliance with the United States and its generally warm relations with Europe.

But how well is that democracy working? Israel elects its leaders, and its vigorous free press sometimes publishes criticism that might be considered anti-Israel elsewhere. Much of that criticism is aimed at the undemocratic regime in the West Bank: Jewish settlers enjoy the full rights of Israeli citizens, while Palestinian self-rule is limited to enclaves.

Within Israel proper, democracy is functioning but fragile. The lack of a written constitution has left the creation of civil rights to an activist Supreme Court -- from a landmark 1953 decision that kept the government from closing newspapers, to last year's ruling that enshrines the right of same-sex couples to adopt children. But the court's position is tenuous. Some in Israel want the Knesset, Israel's parliament, to restrict its powers to overturn laws, rule on security matters, or accept human rights cases.

Another critical weakness is the status of the Arab minority, one fifth of the population. Officially, Arabs have equal rights. But they're scarce in the civil service. Arab towns and cities get less funding from the central government than Jewish municipalities. Roughly an eighth of the country's land is owned by the Jewish National Fund, whose policy of leasing land only to Jews is at the center of a long legal battle.

Arab parties, which hold only 10 out of the Knesset's 120 seats, have been consistently left out of government coalitions. Not only does that exclude Arabs from power but it also makes forming a majority coalition much more difficult -- a central, and rarely noticed, reason for the chronic instability of Israeli governments.

The crumbling of the major parties that once dominated Israeli politics has made coalition government a shaky proposition. Labor, Likud, and Kadima -- a centrist breakaway from the Likud -- now hold only 60 Knesset seats between them. Labor leader Ehud Barak and Likud chief Benjamin Netanyahu are both ex-prime ministers who lost their jobs in landslides, reflecting their parties' failure to attract new leadership and the public's disgust with politics. Solving the diplomatic impasse with the Palestinians -- the country's key challenge -- is made much more difficult as a result. Israeli democracy is alive, but it needs an infusion of new blood.

"Israel Is a Jewish State"

Not in the way that you think. In Western countries, "Jewish" is usually considered a religious category, parallel to "Catholic" or "Muslim." So "Jewish state" sounds akin to "Islamic republic."

But Zionism -- the political movement that created Israel -- was born of 19th-century nationalism, and it defined Jews as an ethnic group, a nationality like "Russian" or "French." Inspired by other contemporary nationalist movements, early Zionists transformed the traditional Jewish aspiration to return to the Land of Israel (a.k.a. Palestine) into a modern nationalistic program. Jews needed to revive their historical language, but religion was a relic of the past, an obsolete vehicle for maintaining ethnic identity in exile.

Israel's secular Jewish majority is heir to that conception. For Israel's secular elite, being a Jew means speaking Hebrew, living in the Jewish homeland, and belonging to Israeli society. Jewish holidays are national holidays -- to be spent hiking, at the beach, or overseas, not in a synagogue.

The theocratic side of the Israeli polity is largely a relic leftover from Ottoman law. Marriage and divorce are controlled by religious authorities, so Jews can only wed through the state-run rabbinate. Catholics must marry through the church, and they can't divorce at all.

Otherwise, the clergy has little power. Completely secularizing the state would not end the real divide in society, which is an ethnic split between Jews and Arabs. As a key example, universal military service is central to civic identity -- but Arabs are exempt. Arabs tend to regard themselves as Palestinian citizens of Israel, but not as "Israelis." Unless an overarching Israeli identity can be created and Arabs can be integrated into the mainstream, Arab demands for rights as a national minority will only grow.

"Israel Was Born of the Holocaust"

No. Israel was born despite the Holocaust. Every visiting foreign dignitary is taken to Yad Vashem, the official Holocaust memorial. The route proceeds from exhibits on the horrors of the death camps to the establishment of the Jewish state. The stress on the Holocaust reflects the emotional trauma that the horror still inflicts on Jews. It also underpins the political message that Jews can only be safe in their own state.

But an additional message is that Israel was created as a response to the genocide perpetrated against Jews in Europe. That's a historical mistake, and promoting it is politically costly for Israel. As an organized political movement, Zionism began in 1897, decades before the Nazis took power in Germany. Modern Jewish migration to Palestine began even earlier, not just from Europe but also from Yemen, Central Asia, and other parts of the Muslim world. Early Zionists did see anti-Semitism as proof that in an age of nation-states, Jews needed one of their own. But they built their plans on Europe's Jews moving to Palestine. Those numbers would ensure that Jews would grow from a small minority to an overwhelming majority in the country.

In 1939, there were 8.3 million Jews in the territory that would come under Axis rule. Six million were murdered. The Holocaust orphaned the Jewish independence movement, whose largest source of support and immigrants was wiped out. The state that was established was much weaker than it would have been.

When Israel bases its public relations on the Holocaust, it unintentionally lends support to the Arab argument that Palestinians are paying for Europe's sins, a talking point intended to undercut Israel's legitimacy as a Jewish home and shift Western support to the Palestinians.

There's one sense, though, in which the Holocaust formed Israel: Psychologically, it created the feeling that Jews stand in constant threat of annihilation.

"Israel's Existence Is in Danger"

Not anymore. When Israel declared independence on May 14, 1948, its Arab neighbors responded by invading. "It does not matter how many [Jews] there are," said Arab League Secretary-General Abdul Rahman Azzam. "We will sweep them into the sea."

Instead, disorganized and inexperienced Arab armies quickly crumbled before them. By the war's end, Israel held more land than the United Nations had allocated it. Before the June 1967 Six Day War, as Arab states massed their forces on Israel's borders, Israelis feared a second Holocaust. Israel's astonishing victory showed that it had become the regional superpower, a status confirmed when it repulsed Egypt and Syria's surprise attack in October 1973. Five-and-a-half years later, the peace agreement with Egyptian President Anwar Sadat neutralized Israel's most formidable foe.

Today, there is no conventional military threat that remotely compares with the alliance led by Egypt. Left isolated by the Israeli-Egyptian peace, Syria has carefully observed a cease-fire since 1974. Afraid to risk full confrontation, Damascus has supported substate forces such as Hezbollah in Lebanon and Hamas in the Palestinian territories. Along with other guerrilla groups, they employ terrorist tactics and rocket fire. Those methods have claimed many Israeli civilians' lives. But on a national level, they're equivalent to a chronic illness, not a fatal disease.

"A Nuclear War Would Destroy Israel"

No. If conventional armies don’t endanger Israel's very existence, then what of an Iranian bomb? Benjamin Netanyahu, now leader of Israel's right-wing opposition, said in a typical speech, "It's 1938, and Iran is Germany." Prime Minister Ehud Olmert has made similar comments. The 2007 U.S. National Intelligence Estimate's assertion that Iran has stopped its nuclear weapons program has done little to reassure Israeli leaders or citizens.

Although all nuclear proliferation is dangerous, the rhetoric ignores the regional power balance. Israel does not normally say it has nuclear arms. But Olmert slipped in 2006, classifying Israel as a nuclear power. Foreign reports sometimes refer to Israel's presumed second-strike capability, the ability to destroy an enemy even if the enemy were to strike first. Such deterrence kept the Soviet Union and the United States from using nuclear weapons during the Cold War.

A common argument is that deterrence won't work as it did with the Soviets. Iran's fundamentalist leaders would supposedly be willing to commit national suicide to fulfill their irrational ideology. Experience shows, however, that Iranian leaders share the Soviets' caution. Iran agreed to a cease-fire in the war with Iraq once Iraqi missiles began falling on Tehran. The ayatollahs were willing to sacrifice soldiers -- but not to pay a higher price. The threat of mushroom clouds will concentrate their thinking about Israel wonderfully.

It's true that Iranian President Mahmoud Ahmadinejad's extreme anti-Israel rhetoric and Holocaust denials are perfectly pitched to frighten Jews. But when Mohammad Khatami was president of Iran, we were told that his moderation made little difference because real power lay with the ayatollahs. For the same reason, one should avoid overestimating Ahmadinejad's clout.

Iran's underlying reason for wanting nukes is nationalist and fairly pragmatic: It seeks to assert its role as a regional power and to deter other nuclear powers. The real risk is that it will set off a regional race for the bomb. The more fingers there are on more buttons, the greater the chance of a mistake. Complacency would be a mistake -- but so is panic.

"Hamas Seeks Israel's Destruction"

In its dreams. Hamas's founding charter, issued in 1988, defines Palestine as "an Islamic waqf" -- sacred trust -- "consecrated for future Muslim generations." That includes pre-1967 Israel. All of Palestine, says the charter, must be liberated by jihad. Diplomacy is a "vain endeavor." The document turns the goals of radical Palestinian nationalism into timeless religious truths.

Yet with time, Hamas has indeed changed. It hasn't renounced its charter, but has stopped referring to it. The movement has gradually morphed into a hard-line but more pragmatic Islamist organization. A milestone was its decision to participate in Palestinian Authority elections, even though the Authority was born of the Oslo agreements with Israel. In its 2006 election platform, Hamas stressed liberating the land that Israel occupied in 1967, even while insisting that it would not renounce the claim to pre-1948 Israel or Palestinians' right of return.

This balancing act looks much like the change that the Palestine Liberation Organization (PLO) underwent a generation ago, when it adopted its 1974 "phased strategy" -- willingness to establish a state in part of Palestine while maintaining a claim to the rest. For the PLO, that was a way to justify participating in diplomacy on the future of the occupied territories, and it was a step toward recognizing Israel. Today, there are disagreements within Hamas over whether to negotiate directly with Israel. However, the organization appears willing to accept a de facto two-state solution and long-term cease-fire, as long as it doesn’t have to recognize Israel outright.

Not that Hamas has turned moderate. It hasn't renounced "armed struggle," including attacks on civilians. It may be willing to put up with Israel's existence, but it still hasn’t negotiated with itself the way to say so publicly. Nonetheless, an eventual agreement with Israel is within the realm of the possible.

"The Israel Lobby Controls U.S. Policy"

Never. In their book The Israel Lobby and U.S. Foreign Policy, John J. Mearsheimer and Stephen M. Walt hold the lobby largely responsible for U.S. policy not only toward Israel but toward the rest of the Middle East. The book's greatest flaw may be that it serves as an unintended advertisement for the central lobbying group, the American Israel Public Affairs Committee (AIPAC), which is eager to play up its own influence.

Although AIPAC does lobby the U.S. Congress effectively, its influence on policy has limits. Under former President Ronald Reagan, it lost its fight to prevent the sale of AWACS surveillance planes to Saudi Arabia. It could not prevent Bush Sr. from using loan guarantees as a means of pressuring Israel on West Bank settlement. Under Bill Clinton, AIPAC helped push through legislation aimed at moving the U.S. Embassy from Tel Aviv to Jerusalem, despite the potential for upsetting peace talks. But the victory was hollow: As passed, the law contained a presidential waiver that Clinton and George W. Bush have repeatedly invoked to avoid the move. In 2006, despite AIPAC’s efforts to pass a version of the Palestinian Anti-Terrorism Act that would have virtually cut off U.S.-Palestinian relations, the U.S. Congress opted for a more moderate bill.

Attributing U.S. policy solely to AIPAC has the advantage of great simplicity. That is also precisely what's wrong with it. The constraints on U.S. policy in the Middle East were laid out after the Six Day War, in a memo to then President Lyndon Johnson written by McGeorge Bundy, his former national security advisor. The United States is committed to Israel's survival, Bundy wrote, but also to good relations with pro-Western Arab states that want Washington to tilt against Israel. Keeping Israel strong saves the United States the headache of defending it directly. But in the long run, Bundy implied, getting Arabs and Israelis to make peace was the only way to resolve the contradictions in U.S. policy. American administrations have oscillated between these conflicting concerns ever since.

At 60, Israel is neither a perfect democracy, nor a Jewish ghetto imperiled by Iranian Nazis, nor a puppet master indirectly controlling Washington. It is more democratic than its neighbors, more reliably pro-Western, and more successful economically and militarily. Nonetheless, it faces the classic dilemmas of a nation-state dealing with minorities, borders, and neighbors. In other words, it is best understood as a real place, not a country of myth.