Over their 100-year span, the Summer Olympic Games
have grown from a quaint fin de siècle festival involving
13 countries and fewer than 300 athletes to a movement
counting almost 200 of the world’s countries as members of the Olympic family. The Summer Games now
showcase the sporting exploits of over 10,000 athletes;
the Winter Games, over 2,000. The Olympic festival has
evolved into the modern world’s foremost sport spectacle and extravagant cultural ritual. Finally, the Games
have become a phenomenon that energize nations the
world over to mount elaborate financial and organizational efforts to be presented in a good light at the great
quadrennial occasions. Political factions, ethnic
groups, religious sects, economic cartels, media, artists,
scholars, and “cause conscious”factions of almost every
hue are both hypnotized and galvanized by what the
Olympic Games can engender in the way of attention to
cause, enhanced prestige, potentially huge profits, and
opportunities for individual and group expression. No
other regularly occurring world event casts such a penetrating global effervescence and, at the same time,
such a tall shadow of frightening possibilities.
History
It took the modern world almost 2,000 years to become
aware of the illustrious sporting legacy achieved by the
cornerstone of Western civilization—the ancient
Greeks. As 19th-century archaeologists began to discover remains of ancient stadiums, gymnasiums, statues, and vases by the thousands displaying painted
scenes of athletic and sporting endeavor among
Greeks, and as fragments of their preserved literature
on sporting matters became known, the spirit of modern man was moved to attempt an emulation of such
past glories. After all, health, fitness, physical education, competitive sporting prowess, and glorification of
the body had served Greece supremely during its
golden eras of antiquity; why could such things not
serve similarly in modern times? One individual who
thought they could was a French aristocrat named
Pierre de Frédy, the Baron de Coubertin (1863–1937).
Concerned by the lack of a sporting ethic among his
countrymen and an absence of physical education in
the schools of France, Coubertin set about to initiate
change. He traveled widely in England and the United
States, impressed greatly by what he viewed in the way
of sport and physical education in England’s private
“public schools” and American colleges and universities. Though Coubertin wrote and lectured vigorously
on themes involving needed changes in French education, he was rebuffed by his country’s education authorities. As a result, Coubertin’s sport-education ideas
turned toward international perspectives, one pet
theme of which was the modern reincarnation of the
epitome of ancient Greek athletic expressions, the
Olympic Games.
In June 1894, Coubertin convened a conference at
the Sorbonne in Paris, the two points of business of
which were to debate common eligibility standards for
participation in international sporting competition
and a possible revival of the Olympic Games. Although
no meaningful conclusions were reached on the former, the latter was successfully endorsed by the assembly of over 200 delegates. An International Olympic
Committee (IOC) was formed and the first Games were
awarded to Athens in the spring of 1896. The choice of
Athens was questioned by Europeans, many of whom
felt that Greece was far removed from the mainstream
of modern developments in athletics. In reality, however, the Greeks had staged two attempts to reestablish
the ancient Games in modern context. Through the
beneficence of millionaire Evangelos Zappas, successful festivals were held in 1859 and 1870. Further attempts were far less successful, but there is little doubt
that Greeks of the latter 19th century had experienced
modest episodes of modern sport organization and
performance by 1896.
With the energetic organizational efforts of Greece’s
royal family, particularly Crown Prince Constantine,
and the financial contributions of Georges Averoff, a
millionaire benefactor reminiscent of Zappas, the 1896
Games were a huge success. Over 60,000 people attended the opening in the grand marble stadium restored specifically for the occasion. A small band of
American athletes dominated the track and field
events, but the Greeks themselves performed worthily.
Spiridon Loues, a modest shepherd whose startling
victory in the marathon event marked the only occasion in his lifetime that he competed in sport, became
the toast of all Greece and an eternal memory in Greek
sport history.
Growing Pains
The Games of the Second Olympiad were staged in
France as part of the Paris World Exposition. Enveloped by the great fair, they failed miserably to capitalize on their auspicious opening four years earlier.
The Paris Olympics were reported in the world’s newspapers as anything but Olympic contests. Rather, they
were mostly referred to as World University Championships or Exposition Contests.
The demeaning of the Olympic Games caused by
organizing them as a sideshow to a World’s Fair was a
lesson ignored in 1904. The U.S. city of St. Louis made
the Games of the Third Olympiad part of the Louisiana
Exposition’s physical culture exhibits and activities.
Though athletic performance was superb, foreign participation was so scant that the events were largely American championships. Nevertheless, the 1904
Games marked the modern Olympic movement’s arrival in the United States and the Olympics became an
indelible dimension of America’s early–20th-century
crusade for international sporting prominence.
Ensuing Olympic festivals were staged in London in
1908 and Stockholm in 1912 with the Stockholm festival marking the arrival of the Olympic Games as the
world’s premier international sporting event. National
Olympic committees from 28 countries, located on all
continents of the world, sent some 2,500 athletes to
Sweden to compete in 102 events.
By 1914, the IOC had a new symbol, the now famous five-ring logo, and a motto, the Latin phrase,
citius, altius, fortius (swifter, higher, stronger). For Coubertin, many of his expectations for the modern
Olympic movement had begun to emerge.As expressed
in 1908, Coubertin told the world that he had revived
the Olympic Games in modern context with several
motivations in mind:
1. as a cornerstone for health and cultural progress;
2. for education and character building;
3. for international understanding and peace;
4. for equal opportunity;
5. for fair and equal competition;
6. for cultural expression;
7. for beauty and excellence; and
8. for independence of sport as an instrument of social reform, rather than government legislation.
World War I prevented the holding of the Games in
Berlin, but in 1920, with the world temporarily at
peace, the Games unfolded in Antwerp. Prominent
among members of the Belgium Organizing Committee was Count Henri Baillet-Latour, the IOC member
who would succeed Coubertin as president.
When Coubertin and his original International
Olympic Committee had convened in Paris in 1894 following the Sorbonne Conference, a number of sports
had been considered for inclusion in the Olympic program. One of them, oddly enough, had been patinage,
or ice skating. An indoor exhibition of figure skating
had been presented by the London organizers in 1908.
In Antwerp in 1920, Belgian officials organized figureskating events once again, together with an exhibition
ice hockey tournament. It would take the departure of
Coubertin, an opponent of the concept of separate
Winter Olympic Games, from the modern Olympic
movement before such a phenomenon became reality.
A modest winter sports festival was arranged in 1924
in Chamonix, France, separate and distinct from the
Summer Games in Paris, but it did not become
recorded as the first Winter Olympic Games until after
the baron’s retirement in 1925. Beginning in 1928,Winter Olympic Games were organized every four years.
The Games Reach Maturity
Cities the world over mount energetic and elaborately
detailed plans to win the IOC’s approval to host the
Olympic Games. Such campaigns are underpinned by
various motivations: civic and national pride and prestige, political gain, economic benefit. The quest by Los
Angeles to host the Olympic Games provides an early
example. A desire to promote the City of Angels as a
tourist and vacation mecca, as a climatically healthful
place in which to live, and as an area of great economic
potential through the investment of capital for handsome dividends prompted Los Angeles to bid for the
Games of 1920. Coubertin’s intent to hold the 1920
(Antwerp), 1924 (Paris), and 1928 (Amsterdam)
Games in Europe stalled the Los Angeles bid. But the
persistence of William M. Garland and his Los Angeles
colleagues finally paid off and the city received the
Games for 1932. By the eve of the Games of the Tenth
Olympiad, America, indeed much of the world, was in
the midst of a devastating economic Depression. Despite this, the Games went on, and, it might be argued,
in glorious fashion. Funding much of the festival from
a $1 million state appropriation gained through a public referendum, the main events were held in the relatively new Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum. An
Olympic Village was built for the first time, but only for
men; the women were accommodated in the Chapman
Hotel in downtown Los Angeles.
Largely a patriarchal expression in both organization and athletic participation during the first three
decades of its history, the modern Olympic movement
offered few opportunities for women. Through the pioneering efforts of an idealistic French woman, Alice
Milliat, an international federation for women’s sports
(FSFI) was organized in 1921 and several successful
editions of “Women’s Olympic Games” occurred between 1921 and 1934. Though women had competed in
Olympic demonstration events in 1900 in tennis and
golf, in swimming and diving beginning in 1912, and
even in track and field in 1928, it would require female
Olympic stars comparable to Jim Thorpe, Paavo Nurmi,
and Johnny Weismuller before women’s participation
was taken seriously. In this regard, the startling performances of Sonja Henie, the youthful Norwegian skating
beauty of the 1928, 1932, and 1936 Winter Games and the track and field accomplishments of the tomboyish
American, Mildred “Babe” Didrikson, in the Los Angeles Games in 1932 initiated a trend that projected
women into the limelight of the Olympic program.
Ominous signs of world discord permeated much
of the 1930s, including the staging of the 1936 Summer
Games in Berlin. When the Games of the Eleventh
Olympiad had been awarded to Germany in 1931, the
lingering vestiges of the Weimar Republic governed
Germany. By the time that the Olympic flame was lit in
Berlin’s magnificent Olympic stadium in the summer
of 1936, the National Socialists led by Adolf Hitler were
in power. Under IOC rules, host cities, not national governments, are directed to organize and stage the
Games. But Hitler’s representatives were everywhere,
controlling and shaping the Olympic festival to serve
Nazi interests. Though much of the two-week celebration was an expression of German nationalism, Nazi
propaganda, and Teutonic military culture, it was also
an extravaganza featuring German organizational precision. Many countries, including the United States,
feared sending a team to compete. Controversy arose in
the United States:“to go or not to go,” became the question debated at length by various factions allied with,
as well as completely divorced from, the amateur sport
movement in the country. Many viewed it as immoral
to support an “evil” German regime by taking part.
Nazi postures on religion and race defied Christian
principles and ran counter to Olympic moral codes. In
the end, a U.S. Olympic team sailed to Europe in the
summer of 1936. Superb athletic performances
abounded in Berlin, but none were more spectacular
than those of Jesse Owens, the black American sprinter.
Owens, at first a curiosity and then a celebrity in the
eyes of most German spectators, won the 100- and 200-
meter (109- and 218-yard) sprints, the long jump, and
ran a leg on the winning 4 x 100 meter relay team, dispelling in graphic fashion the warped Nazi doctrine of
Aryan supremacy.
By 1940 the world was at war once again. The 1940
Summer Games and Winter Games, which were
awarded to Japan (Tokyo and Sapporo, respectively),
were canceled, as were the 1944 Summer Games set for
Helsinki.
Postwar Trials
With the conclusion of World War II in 1945, the IOC
turned its attention to reestablishment of the Olympic
Games. In the summer of 1948, the Games of the Fourteenth Olympiad were staged in war-ravaged London.
Germany, Italy, and Japan were missing, banned as
perpetrators of the war, just as Germany had been disallowed from competing in the Games of 1920 and
1924 for identical reasons with regard to World War I.
The Summer Games of 1948 were preceded by the
Winter Olympics, held in St. Moritz. Both the 1948 Winter and Summer Games were a far cry from those in
1932 and 1936 in terms of organization, facilities, and
pomp, but superb athletic endeavor more than compensated.
The results of World War II reshaped the map of the
world and created vexing problems for leaders of the
Olympic movement. The fracture of Europe into “East”
and “West” spheres of political polarization, particularly the split of Germany into two countries, produced
thorny consequences for the IOC. Germany returned to
the Olympic Games in 1952 (Helsinki), represented by
athletes from the West. For a series of four succeeding
summer and winter Olympic festivals (Melbourne/
Cortina d’Ampezzo in 1956, Rome/Squaw Valley in
1960, Tokyo/Innsbruck in 1964, and Mexico City/
Grenoble in 1968), Germany was represented by a combined team of athletes from both East and West. The
Soviet-controlled German Democratic Republic and
the West-backed Federal Republic of Germany did not
compete as individual nations until the Munich/Sapporo Games in 1972.
If the German problem was not enough to frustrate
IOC leaders, then the emergence of the Soviet Union
into Olympic matters, the place of South Africa in the
Games, and ultimatums from the People’s Republic of
China promoted a constant state of turmoil. The Soviet
Union’s first appearance in the Olympic Games, in
Helsinki in 1952, served notice that they were the
Olympic power of the future. Their medal count in Finland was barely eclipsed by the United States. An elaborate scheme of early identification of young athletes,
specialized sports schools, application of scientific research to sport performance, and elaborate financial
support at all levels within the nation’s sport mechanism ensured consistent representation on Olympic
victory podiums. The Soviet approach prompted constant debate by IOC authorities, particularly on the
question of “state professionals.” But, the success of the
Soviet model spurred many nations the world over to
adopt various dimensions of the proven blueprint for
athletic success.
South Africa had been a valued Olympic family
member since its first participation in 1908. For almost
half a century no one questioned South Africa’s policy
of apartheid, a policy in direct confrontation with the
Olympic code’s principle that participation in the Games “shall not be denied for reasons of race.” South
Africa’s Olympic teams had always been lily white.With
the disintegration of European colonial empires on the
continent of Africa following World War II, and the
commensurate evolution of new nations reflecting
black pride and political power, the racial policy of
South Africa came under censure and severe challenge,
internally and externally. One of the political measures
exerted was a campaign aimed at forcing South African
Olympic teams to be integrated, a first step in the dissolution of that nation’s overall policy of discrimination toward people of color.With the backing of the Soviet Union, whose support on the measure was
underscored by political and economic dividends to be
gained in Africa, a steady campaign was waged. A boycott of the Games by a unified bloc of African countries
was the trump card played. After having had its invitation withdrawn in 1964 and 1968, South Africa was finally expelled from the family of Olympic nations in
1972. Black Africa had won the battle, but not the war.
South Africa’s apartheid policies remained in effect for
twenty years. In 1992 at Barcelona, black and white athletes finally marched together as members of a South
African Olympic team reunited with the modern
Olympic movement.
The triumph of Mao Zedong’s Communists over the
Nationalist followers of Chiang Kai-shek in China’s
drawn-out civil war of the 1930s and 1940s brought still
another vexing problem. Which was the real China in
the IOC’s eye? Mainland Communists? Or Nationalists
who had retreated to Formosa, an island off China’s
coast that eventually became known as Taiwan? Because
the prewar national Chinese Olympic Committee had
been in the hands of the Nationalists, the IOC recognized Taiwan, which in turn insisted upon being called
the Republic of China. In a series of arguments and angry rebuffs, the People’s Republic failed to move the IOC
toward their point of view—the argument that with a
population 50 times that of Taiwan, indeed a population
figure that represented nearly one-third of the world’s
total numbers, it was the real China. Stubbornly, they remained aloof from the Olympics until 1984.
All this, and much more, caused the IOC presidency
of Avery Brundage, who had succeeded Edstrom after
the 1952 Summer Games, to be filled with controversy
and crisis. Few could have been equal to the task of
steering the Olympic schooner through such turbulent
waters during the 1950s, 1960s, and early 1970s. But
Brundage proved to be a capable captain. He remained
consistent in proclaiming that sport should never be
contaminated by politics; that the Olympic Games were
for amateur athletes; that the Olympic movement
should be insulated from the evils of commercialism;
that women’s competition should be reduced; that the
Games should become smaller, not larger; indeed, that
perhaps the Winter Olympics ought to be eliminated altogether. During his tenure as president (1952–1972),
he fought tenaciously against South Africa’s expulsion.
As well, he constantly patrolled the halls of amateurism,
protecting the hallowed Olympic precincts from encroachment by professionals. Sports conservatives lionized Brundage, liberals promoting change vilified him.
The 1968 Mexico Games will always be noted for the
emergence of African athletes as track and field giants
in distance racing. Between Kipchoge Keino, Naftali
Temu, and Amos Biwott of Kenya, Mamo Wolde of
Ethiopia, and Mohamed Gammoudi of Tunisia,
Africans won every men’s running event at distances
over 800 meters. Sadly, a shocking episode that occurred shortly before the opening of the Games cast a
pall on the gala festival and demonstrated how the
Olympic Games can at times be used to draw national
and international attention to sociopolitical causes.
Throughout the 1960s, costs associated with staging
the Olympics had spiraled to dizzying heights. In a relatively poor country like Mexico, where millions lived
in poverty and squalor, huge expenditures for games in
place of badly needed social welfare projects and programs proved a bone of contention to many, especially
left-wing political radicals and idealistic university students. Protests and demonstrations on this point angered a Mexican government intent on ensuring a
peaceful atmosphere during its appearance before the
world. Confrontations between military police and university students boiled over into violent reaction, resulting in what has become known as the massacre of
Tlatelolco Square. Depending on whose story is accepted, the Mexican government’s or that of its antagonists, some 30 to 300 students were killed. There was
another controversial episode. Almost a year before the
Games began, U.S. civil rights activist Harry Edwards
had attempted to rally black athletes to boycott the
Games. This was an attempt to focus world attention on
the pitiful socioeconomic and civil rights status of millions of black Americans. Black athletes were not unanimous in supporting the boycott. Few stayed home. But
many left for Mexico City intent on making personal
statements in order to focus attention on the issue.
Tommy Smith and Jon Carlos, winners of gold and
bronze medals in the 200 meters, mounted the victory
podium, bowed their heads as the “Star-Spangled Banner” was played, and thrust black glove–clad fists aloft.
For all of Brundage’s unyielding stance on most
matters about which he felt strongly, one item succeeded in breaching his resolve. That item was television. One fundamental fact had always stood in the way
of the IOC realizing its ambitions and endeavors. That
stark reality was that it was usually poverty stricken.
Though scorning any link to what he called “commercialism,” Brundage recognized as early as the late 1940s
the value of television in advertising the Olympic
movement worldwide. But, as major sporting events in
the United States increasingly penetrated television
programming, he was led to consider the prospect of
selling television rights for the Games. Stemming from
a difference of opinion with television media in Melbourne at the 1956 Games, a confrontation prompted
by arguments of whether the Olympics were news or
entertainment, the IOC moved resolutely toward framing constitutional statutes in its charter for the protection of its product. Thus, the now famous Rule 49 came
into being. Any television broadcasting of the Olympic
Games longer than three-minute news briefs, aired
three times per day, would have to be purchased. The
Winter Games of 1960 in Squaw Valley were the first to
be sold to U.S. television under the new rights-fee
statute. They went to CBS for $50,000. CBS also won the
exclusive U.S. rights for the Summer Games in Rome.
The fee negotiated was $394,000. As the television giants ABC, CBS, and NBC competed vigorously for the
right to air each succeeding edition of the Winter and
Summer Games, the U.S. rights fees reached beyond
the $2 million dollar mark in 1964, spiraled to over
$100 million by 1980, and have reached $456 million
from NBC for the centennial Games of 1996, with the
European Broadcast Union paying an additional $250
million for European rights. The IOC in a very short
span of years found itself rolling in dough.
Brundage’s 20-year tenure as IOC president came to
an end following a vote by the IOC at the 1972 Games
in Munich. Never in Brundage’s tenure was his power
and authority under such severe challenge as it was by
this time. At the Winter Games in Sapporo, Brundage
had tried to deny entry to a host of alpine skiers, many
of whom he felt to be violators of the Olympic amateur
code. Their flagrant disregard for Olympic rules greatly
angered him, especially their acceptance of “cash and
kind” from ski equipment manufacturers in return for
orchestrated display of the company’s equipment on
television, and their acceptance of money far beyond
“reasonable expenses” for appearances at major ski
meets on the world circuit. Brundage, his influence
badly eroded by 1972, had to settle for a token expulsion. The scapegoat was Karl Schranz, the gold medal
favorite in the alpine events, who was not permitted to
compete.
The 1972 Munich Summer Games commenced in
August in an atmosphere the reverse of that which existed the last time Germany had played host to the
Olympics (1936). Instead of the red, black, and white
colors identified with Nazis, soft pastels were the color
theme. Instead of Nazi rank and file, cheery Bavarians
greeted visitors. However, if there were doubts in the
minds of some that sport and politics did not mix, the
events of 5 and 6 September removed them. In Olympic
history’s most horrible incident, a group of Palestinian
guerrilla-terrorists infiltrated the Olympic village, took
members of the Israeli wrestling team hostage, and
bargained for the release of 200 Palestinians incarcerated in Israeli jails. In a dramatic sequence of events at
Munich’s Fuerstenfeldbruck airbase, a shootout occurred between the guerrillas and German sharpshooters. Five of the eight Palestinians were killed, but
not before all of the Israeli hostages were slain by the
guerrillas. Brundage, in his last public act as IOC czar,
arranged a huge memorial service in the Olympic stadium, and then dictated that “the Games must go on.”
The Olympics must never bow to “commercial, political
and now criminal pressure,” the 84-year-old Brundage
exclaimed. With his exit from that forum, an Olympic
career, the impact of which rivaled that of Coubertin’s,
came to an end. He was succeeded in office by Ireland’s
Michael Morris, the Lord Killanin.
Boycotts and Bucks
The horror of Munich dictated complex security mechanisms at all future Olympic festivals. At the Summer
Games of 1976 in Montreal, about $1 million was spent
on security, including support of a 16,000-man militia
force. Montreal had struggled to meet preparation
deadlines for the Games. In the end, labor disputes,
construction problems, cost overruns, and a host of
other problems burdened Mayor Jean Drapeau’s city
and La Belle Provence with millions of dollars of debt.
To this day, the financial embarrassments incurred
continue to be felt. At the same time, politics escalated
as a major problem area for the IOC and its Olympic
family members—the host city organizers, National
Olympic Committees, and the International Sport Federations. Continuing their quest to end South Africa’s
racial policy, African countries argued that New
Zealand should be barred from competing in the 1976
Games in Montreal because its national rugby team,
the famous All-Blacks, had played matches against South Africa, thus violating an IOC ban on participating against South African sports teams. In turn, the
IOC argued that the rule applied only to Olympic
sports, which rugby was not. The African complaint
was dismissed. Thirty-two African countries and nations supporting their cause responded by returning
home. The long-brandished African threat of boycott
had finally been implemented.
The 1980 Summer Games had been awarded to
Moscow. The Soviet state prepared diligently for its
chance to showcase “the triumph of Communism” before the world. But, in December 1979 its military
forces marched into neighboring Afghanistan to prop
up a Communist-controlled government on the brink
of being toppled by Islamic fundamentalist factions. In
response to this act, U.S. President Jimmy Carter called
for a world boycott of the Moscow Games. He didn’t
quite get “the world” to go along with him, but U.S.
diplomatic pressures on the global community ultimately led 62 countries to boycott the Games. Eightyone nations participated, the fewest number since the
Melbourne Games 25 years earlier. The Moscow Games
proceeded; Soviet and East German athletes dominated the sports contests. There was little doubt that
the Soviet Union, which had poured millions of the
state’s precious rubles into preparing for the Games,
was considerably angered by the boycott. It did not take
them long to get revenge.
The historic city of Sarajevo in Yugoslavia hosted
the Winter Games in 1984. Muslims, Serbs, and Croats
combined efforts to produce a well-organized and orchestrated festival. Seven years later they were at war
with each other and much of the beautiful city that had
been host to a great world festival of sport, peace, and
beauty lay in shambles, the bodies of thousands of its
people buried in coffins made of wood torn from former Olympic sports buildings.After the financial debacle of Montreal in 1976, none but Los Angeles, California, presented a bid to host the 1984 Summer Games.
In the end, the city tried to renege on its bid; secondary
planning pointed towards a huge deficit, most of which
would have to be paid by the taxpayer. Enter Peter Ueberroth and a group of associates, who laid a plan before the IOC to fund the Games with corporate sponsorships. But only cities are awarded Olympic Games,
not private corporations; that was the rule. However, it
was either Ueberroth’s plan, or no Games. The IOC
buckled. World television rights generated $260 million. Another $130 million was raised from 30 corporate sponsors pledged to pay at least $4 million each in
return for rights to manufacture and market their
products with the Olympic logo emblazoned on them.
Further, 43 companies paid a premium to sell their
products as the “official” Olympic drink (Coca-Cola),
the official domestic beer (Schlitz), the official Olympic
hamburger (McDonald’s), and so on. By the time the
Games were concluded, not only had they been carried
off in solvent fashion, they made a profit for the organizers, in fact, of about $150 million. ABC television
presented Olympic programming so blatantly nationalistic that even patriotic Americans cringed. The Soviets called the Games a farce; they weren’t even there,
having led a 17-nation Eastern bloc boycott for the embarrassment exacted on them in 1980.
The IOC was in an angry mood as it convened at
meetings following the Los Angeles Games. Severe
penalties were threatened to those who might pursue a
boycott stance in the future. Large-scale boycotts
ceased,but not because of IOC threats.In effect,boycotts
just did not work: the Soviets had remained in
Afghanistan for a sustained period, U.S. athletes won
174 medals in the absence of those from Eastern bloc
countries, and a gathering storm of protest rose from
athletes who had dedicated four years of their lives for a
chance to become an Olympian only to see their chances
obliterated by politicians. At the opening ceremonies of
the 1988 Summer Games in Seoul, only Cuba and North
Korea refused to attend. The Games of the Twentyfourth Olympiad, bathed in Korean culture and charm,
celebrated athlete and spectator harmony once again.
Confrontations between Olympian gods in antiquity formed the basis for Greek mythology. Showdowns between athletes of supreme Olympian-like status provide a modern similarity. The 100-meter sprint
final in Seoul, featuring Carl Lewis of the United States
against Canada’s Ben Johnson, was akin to Herakles
wrestling the Nemean lion. Johnson won in the extraordinary time of 9.73 seconds. Two days later it was determined that his post-race urine sample was saturated with residuals of performance-enhancing drugs.
Johnson was disqualified; Lewis received the gold
medal. The aftermath produced a national inquiry in
Canada, revealing that drug-taking to improve athletic
performance was not limited simply to those whose
fame and fortune depended on the outcome of a lessthan-ten-second run. The female star of the Seoul
Games was U.S. sprinter Florence Griffith-Joyner, or
“Flo Jo” as she was affectionately dubbed by the press.
Griffith-Joyner ran the 100 meters less than one-half
second slower than Ben Johnson’s startling time. Her
heavily muscled thighs and lightning reaction at the
start raised questions in the minds of many as to what her pharmaceutical menu might have been in preparing for the Games. No charges were ever officially
levied; Griffith-Joyner retired from competition immediately following the Korean Games.
In February 1988, Canada hosted its first Winter
Games. Hoping to make a profit from them, Calgary
pressed Ueberroth’s 1984 financial model into place.
An ABC television rights fee of $309 million and corporate sponsorship on the order of that seen in Los Angeles in 1984 ensured a profit and a lasting Calgary
Olympic legacy in the form of sports facilities and a
huge Olympic Trust Fund.
Albertville, France, was the scene of the last Winter
Olympic Games to be celebrated in the same year that
the Summer Games were held. Shortly before the Games
opened, a failed coup by Communist “hard-liners” trying to stem a Soviet flirtation with democracy sponsored by Premier Mikhail Gorbachev sparked a series of
events that disintegrated isolationist policies between
East and West. Down came the Berlin Wall, symbol of
separation between East and West Germany. Down
came the doctrine of Communism that had ruled Soviet
lives for the greater part of the century. Up rose new
countries from the remnants of the old Union of Soviet
Socialist Republics. Up rose the number of new nations
in the Olympic family, many of them well-known former Soviet states, including Russia, the Ukraine, Estonia, and Belarus. The political events occurred so
rapidly that most of the newly formed countries could
not organize their independent National Olympic Committees in time for the Albertville Games. Rather than
scuttle the hopes of prospective Olympic participants,
the IOC allowed former Soviet state athletes to compete
under a hastily contrived sobriquet, the Unified Team.
Their flagbearer marched into the stadium for the opening ceremonies holding aloft the Olympic flag.
In 1980 an ailing Lord Killanin had been replaced
as IOC president by a Catalan Spaniard, Juan Antonio
Samaranch. Samaranch, once a roller hockey goalie
and former Spanish ambassador to the Soviet Union,
quickly asserted himself as an Olympic progressivist.
Though Killanin had planted the seeds for reform, it
was Samaranch who reaped the harvest. Under Samaranch’s leadership, the IOC elected women to its ranks
(currently there are 8). Samaranch also presided over
new financial initiatives. Since the middle 1970s, the
IOC had been restive about the fact that 97 percent of
its operating revenue was derived from television income. By the middle 1980s, a new IOC revenue source
took its place beside television. It was called TOP (The
Olympic Program). Contracting with the Swiss licensing firm International Sport & Leisure (ISL), the IOC
sold the rights to market the five-ring logo to a dozen
multinational manufacturing firms. Coca-Cola, Kodak,
and Federal Express were among the first TOP clients.
The exclusive use of the logo was sold for a period of
four years, an Olympic quadrennial. TOP I (1984–
1988) produced $100 million, Top II (1988–1992) $170
million. The projected revenue from TOP III (1992–
1996) will approach $400 million.
Under his presidency, too, Samaranch orchestrated
the relaxation of eligibility rules that permitted a drift
toward allowing the best athletes in the world to compete, irrespective of the fact that they might be professionals. Changes in Olympic eligibility rules prompted
a sensational event to be orchestrated in Barcelona in
1992. With the concurrence of President Samaranch,
the International Basketball Federation (FIBA) relaxed
all rules against professionals competing. To many, the
result was a travesty of sporting justice. The United
States sent the foremost stars of the National Basketball
Association to perform against the world. Long-established professionals, whose salaries in all cases were in
the multimillion-dollar range, competed against relative neophytes from Angola, Lithuania, Croatia, and
Puerto Rico. The results were predictable, lopsided wins
in every contest on the way to the gold medal. Indeed, it
often seemed that the aura of Magic Johnson, Larry
Bird, Michael Jordan, Charles Barkley, and company
was greater than that of the Games themselves, or of
host Barcelona, one of the world’s most beautiful cities.
The Future of the Olympic Games
As both the Winter and Summer Olympic festivals
grew larger and larger in terms of new sports (and
added events within sporting disciplines), competing
countries, and athletes—and the administrative energy and resources needed to present them—the IOC
debated the merits of alternating the Winter and Summer festivals, holding each four years apart in evennumbered years. Cynics said this plan was much ado
about money. One fact was certain; with the intervals
between Olympic years reduced to two instead of four,
the world’s Olympic psyche should be raised to a new
level, creating all sorts of possibilities for those who
benefit from selling or acquiring Olympic rights,
whether in the form of television or Mars Bars.
Baron de Coubertin’s original inspiration for what
the Olympic Games might promote, that is, international peace, harmony, brotherhood, education, beauty,
joy, and sportsmanship, never came as close to being
realized as they did at the Lillehammer Winter Games in 1994. The Norwegians dedicated their Games to a
war-torn sister Winter Olympic host city, Sarajevo. In
his opening address, President Samaranch called for an
“Olympic truce,” pleading for the belligerent factions
around the world to “put down your guns.” The astounding Norwegian speedskater Johann Koss, winner
of three gold medals, gave to the Olympic Relief Fund
the entire amount of the money bestowed on him by
his grateful country. Further, he donated the skates he
wore in his events to an auction, the proceeds of which
went to the same fund. And the Koss episode was but
one of many that inspired those millions in the world
who watched the events as they transpired.
As the Olympic Games face the future, the pathways
they must negotiate are strewn with hazards. The IOC
must grapple with problems relative to the immensity
of the Games, to maintaining a fair playing field for
competing athletes, to the effective distribution of its
wealth for worthy initiatives. But, above all, it must remain especially sensitive to the understanding of what
the modern Olympic movement is really all about: recognizing and encouraging cultural differences in the
quest to develop a better world in which to live. It seeks
to do this by presenting an Olympic philosophy it calls
“Olympism,” a belief that there is joy in the sporting effort, that there is educational value in the good example that sport most times portrays, and that a pursuit of
ethical principles that know neither geographical nor
cultural boundaries is a worthwhile endeavor.
—ROBERT KNIGHT BARNEY
Bibliography: Guttmann, Allen. (1992) The Olympics: A History of the Modern Games. Urbana: University of Illinois
Press. Lucas, John A. (1992) Future of the Olympic Games.
Urbana, IL: Human Kinetics. MacAloon, John A. (1981)
This Great Symbol: Pierre de Coubertin and the Origin of
the Modern Olympic Games. Chicago: University of
Chicago Press. Simson, Vyv, and Andrew Jennings. (1992)
The Lords of the Rings: Power, Money and Drugs in the
Modern Olympics. Toronto: Stoddart Publishing Co.