The Olympics Are (Not) Above Politics: When Diplomacy Outweighs Sport

The first instances of entire countries being excluded from the Olympics followed global wars, as states sought to codify a new political reality. After World War I, aggressor and defeated nations (Austria, Germany, Turkey, Bulgaria, and Hungary) were barred from the 1920 Summer Olympics in Antwerp, as the international community was not ready to see them among the participants. A similar situation unfolded after World War II, when the United Kingdom did not invite Germany and Japan to the 1948 Games. The logic was simple: if a country’s policies had triggered a global war, it forfeited its right to celebrate peace. This was a period when bans were seen as temporary but necessary punishment – pending repentance and political transformation. Moreover, such bans were imposed unilaterally by host countries, without coordination with the International Olympic Committee (IOC).

Over time, the grounds for restrictions expanded to include domestic policies and human rights. The most striking example was South Africa’s decades-long ban over apartheid. For nearly 30 years (1964-1992), the country was an outcast, demonstrating the Olympic movement’s capacity to act as a moral arbiter. The IOC made it clear that institutionalized racism was incompatible with Olympic values. In 2000, a similar mechanism was applied to Afghanistan, where the Taliban curtailed women’s participation in sport, leading to the country’s exclusion from the Games. After the fall of the Islamist regime, Afghanistan returned to the Olympics in 2004. Despite the Taliban’s return to power in 2021, the country has continued to compete internationally, as its National Olympic Committee still operates in exile. Zimbabwe’s (Rhodesia’s) ban from 1972 to 1980 resulted from mass protests by African states against white-minority rule and apartheid. These decisions (despite criticism) demonstrated that the Olympics are not only about strength and endurance, but also about solidarity in defense of human dignity.

Recent decades have brought no fundamentally new forms of restriction; instead, they have expanded the menu of special statuses – blunting Olympic sanctions. Seeking to avoid clashes with influential governments and financial losses, the IOC introduced formats for “independent” or “neutral” participation. A clear example came in 1992: due to United Nations Security Council sanctions, Yugoslavia (then consisting only of Serbia and Montenegro) was barred from competition, yet its athletes were allowed to compete under neutral status. At the same time, the IOC swiftly recognized the Olympic committees of Slovenia, Croatia, and Bosnia and Herzegovina. North Macedonia failed to complete the necessary bureaucratic procedures after declaring independence, so its athletes also competed under the Olympic flag. Similar “neutrality” mechanisms were later used during East Timor’s emergence or in response to government interference in Kuwait’s national committee. This formal separation of athletes from their countries preserves a veneer of apoliticality, while in practice turning a blind eye to the fact that sanctioned states continue to finance athletes’ training and careers, using their Olympic participation as a tool of propaganda.

Since 2016, Russia’s Olympians have repeatedly been exposed for using doping and substances strictly prohibited under IOC rules. After Russia was barred from the 2016 Summer Paralympics, its athletes were allowed to compete in 2018 only under a “neutral” flag.

Russia’s full-scale invasion shifted attention to armed aggression. Current restrictions are tougher, as the very possibility of athletes from aggressor and victim countries coexisting on the same field is now in question. Still, Russia and Belarus continue seeking ways to return to the Games in various formats.

In the context of the 2024 and 2026 Games, the concept of neutrality has become overtly manipulative. The introduction of Individual Neutral Athletes (AIN) for representatives of Russia and Belarus is the IOC’s attempt to sit on two chairs – at Ukraine’s expense. As AIN competitors, athletes cannot use national colors or any state symbols, including the anthem. But the absence of a tricolor or anthem does not change the fact that athletes from an occupying state continue their careers with a sense of total impunity – even when they openly support the Russian government and the war. According to Ukraine’s Minister of Youth and Sports Matvii Bidnyi, Russia actively exploits its leverage within international sports organizations, where it has spent years consolidating its influence. Moreover, in September 2025, the International Paralympic Committee voted to fully restore the rights of the Russian and Belarusian national Paralympic committees.

The situation with these “half-bans” makes one thing clear: the IOC’s attempts to balance sanctions with formal neutrality have definitively run their course. If in the twentieth century an Olympic ban usually meant the full and unconditional exclusion of the offending state, today’s pursuit of performative inclusivity (backed by money) allows even the initiators of a large-scale war in the heart of Europe to maintain their presence at the Games. 

Russia, the aggressor state, exploits every opening to push for full reintegration into the global arena. For the 2026 Winter Olympics, 13 Russian and 7 Belarusian athletes will compete under “neutral” status. Today, the Olympic movement must demonstrate its ability to defend its own principles against those who weaponize sport to legitimize aggression. A return to the practice of full isolation of aggressor states (rather than inventing “neutral” labels) would be an expression of genuine sporting justice. Ultimately, the absence of representatives of an aggressor country from Olympic arenas sends a far stronger signal than any loud statements issued in committee rooms.