Politics and the Olympics go way back

Diane Roberts, Weekend Edition essayist

Tommie Smith, gold medalist in the 200 meters, stood on the victors' platform, his bronze-winner teammate John Carlos next to him. As the "Star-Spangled Banner" played, they raised their fists above their heads. It was Mexico City, 1968, the year Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated, and even a little white kid like me recognized a Black Power salute.

I thought it was great - a dignified protest.

Olympic supremo Avery Brundage did not. He banned Smith and Carlos and sent them home.

Sports should be above politics. But sports has never been above politics.

According to "The First London Olympics," a new book by British writer Rebecca Jenkins, even the Games of 100 years ago were roiled by international arguments and diplomatic incidents. Americans saw 1908 as a chance for a burgeoning power to flex its corn-fed muscles in the capital of the most powerful empire on earth.

They wanted to get in a few licks for the popular cause of Irish independence. In a show of defiance, American shot-putter Ralph Waldo Rose refused to lower the flag before King Edward VII.

Others had their issues, too. The Finns didn't want to march behind the Russian flag - the tsar had controlled their land since 1809 - but the Russians wouldn't allow them to use their own banner.

And, in the tug-of-war competition (yes, the tug-of-war used to be an Olympic sport), the U.S. team lost big-time to the U.K. team, which was entirely made up of policemen from Liverpool. The Americans charged the Liverpudlian cops with wearing illegal shoes. Some New York newspapers demanded that the U.S. break off diplomatic relations with Great Britain.

And so it has been ever since.

In 1936, Hitler wanted to use the Berlin games to demonstrate the superiority of the Master Race. The U.S. boycotted the 1980 Moscow Olympics; the USSR boycotted the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics. Both those Games were characterized by hysterical flag-waving and knee-jerk nationalism.

Then there was Munich in 1972, when the Black September terrorist group took the Israeli Olympic team hostage. Ten athletes and a coach died. After a small pause, the games went on.

The torch, lit at Olympia and sent around the world in the face of protests over oppression in Tibet and genocide in Darfur, now burns bright in Beijing. Many platitudes will be uttered about sportsmanship and cooperation and unity. But no matter what anyone says, the Olympics have been and will be nationalist theater.

Essayist Diane Roberts divides her time between Tallahassee, Florida and London.