But despite the many feel-good stories, high profile sporting events have served equally well, it seems, as a means by which to sow dissension: think of the Munich massacre, or the 1996 Olympic Park bombing. And in 1916, the unifying power of sports proved no match for the hostilities of World War I: the Berlin Olympics, long planned for that year, had to be canceled.
The World Cup has seen its share of political violence as well. In 1969 El Salvador beat Honduras in a World Cup qualifying match, igniting longstanding tension between the two countries into a brief war. Perhaps having learned its lesson, just last year FIFA indefinitely postponed a match between Chad and Sudan as hostilities simmered between the two.
And Iran has prioritized its hatred over its chances at athletic success every time: the Iranian government’s longstanding refusal to acknowledge Israel’s sovereignty has led its athletes to skip all direct competition against Israel, including FIFA matches and Olympic events.
We want so badly to believe that all we really need to achieve world peace is a ball. But even some of the seeming triumphs of sports over hatred have been mirages.
In September 2008, the presidents of Armenia and Turkey used soccer to reopen diplomatic dialogue. The two countries had severed relations and sealed their common border more than a decade earlier, but a World Cup qualifying match between their national teams prompted Armenian President Serzh Sargsyan to extend an invitation to his Turkish counterpart. It was the first-ever visit to Armenia by a Turkish head of state, and prompted Time magazine to wonder, “ Can Soccer Heal Turkey-Armenia Rift?”
The answer, it appeared, was yes. Turkish President Abdullah Gul’s historic visit to Armenia eventually resulted in an agreement between the countries to reestablish ties and reopen their border. But as of today the Turkish Parliament has yet to ratify the agreement, insisting that Armenia first make territorial concessions to Azerbaijan. Politics, it seems, is more complex than a soccer match.
Also last summer, the U.S. national team played in Cuba for the first time since 1947. But while many pundits saw the game as an opportunity for improved political relations, the match was due more to FIFA requirements than any diplomatic efforts on the part of either country.
In truth, U.S.-Cuban relations have changed little despite several sports-related efforts at friendship. American Little League teams twice visited Cuba for exhibition games in the last decade, but the Bush administration officially discouraged the practice and made no corresponding diplomatic efforts. And when the Baltimore Orioles hosted the Cuban baseball team in 1999, the game was briefly interrupted by a Cuban-American protester who ran onto the field with an anti-Castro sign and was promptly pummeled by the Cuban umpire stationed near second base. World peace? Not in the infield.
Still, we let our hopes obscure reality. We were delighted in July when Iraq proved stable enough to host its first national soccer team home game since 2002. But the cheers of the capacity crowd at Fransou Hariri Stadium included chants of “Death to Israel” and “Death to America.”
With people so desperate to kill us that they’re willing to hide explosives in their underwear, and so much death and destruction in the news, we crave feel-good solutions that will promote world harmony. We tell ourselves that the Olympics can make everybody love each other; that basketball and soccer can bring peace to Israel, conciliation to Ireland, and understanding to South Africa; that sports’ power to heal is stronger than hatred’s power to destroy.
But when three men on their way to a soccer tournament are gunned down by separatists in a country that was probably too unstable to be hosting a major international sports event in the first place, we learn a different lesson. If sports are really going to save the world, we need those kids who are now shooting baskets and goals in Israel and Ireland and South Africa to become not athletes but political leaders. And they’d better grow up fast.