When all is fair in sports and war

There have been football players who have been soldiers and who took up the game or players who have gone to put on a uniform and pick up a gun, even players who have been shot at. But even as wars have evolved to include robots, never would have some of the top athletes in the world who play for clubs that are global brands, would have ever imagined that one day they would be used as weapons in an actual war.

This is what is happening at SW6 in the upscale Fulham area of London, home of Chelsea Football Club (FC). Born in a pub this week 117 years ago, for the first time in over a century, the club finds itself in unfamiliar territory. Chelsea FC has been sanctioned by the British government. The restrictions came into force after the UK moved to sanction people close to Russian President Vladimir Putin, who had invaded Ukraine late last month.

It has been nearly three weeks since Russian troops streamed into Ukraine in a mad dash to take over the country, secure its plentiful arsenal of leftover soviet weaponry and stop the creeping advance of western forces which have continued to oppose any Russia backed regime. The war has left thousands of casualties on the ground. Indeed, people on the ground say that the Russians have taken the gloves off in targeting, not just unarmed civilians but also humanitarian facilities such as hospitals.

The west has responded with cautious restraint. It has been careful in the kinds of weapons it picks, opting for the ones which are the least threatening lest it provokes Russia to launch a pan European military adventure. Having sanctioned around 200 high-value individuals thus far, the British government this week sanctioned seven oligarchs, including Roman Abramovich – who completely owns Chelsea FC and an associated Foundation. Calling Abramovich and fellow sanctioned Russian oligarchs as “kleptocrats” and accusing them of being “complicit in his [Putin’s] aggression”, British Foreign Secretary Liz Truss in a statement said that “The blood of the Ukrainian people is on their hands. They should hang their heads in shame.”

Sanctions on a club like Chelsea FC have sent ripples around the world. One reason for that is after being bought by Abramovich, the club rose to become a global icon and an ambassador for not just another British sport, but a particular brand of the sport. Others say it helped transform the business of the beautiful game.

Recently, its global image was infinitely bolstered after the team won, for the first time in its history, the Club World Cup, held thousands of miles from the British Isles in the United Arab Emirates with a cohort of globe-trotting fans. Participation in that tournament came as a courtesy of having won the premier pan-European club football competition, the Union of European Football Associations (UEFA) Champions League.

Weaponising sports

War is one of the oldest forms of conflict resolution that is known to man. By far, it is the most violent, bloody and destructive with an immense cost in terms of resources, infrastructure and goodwill. It is thus very easy, but a highly undesirable option. Weapons, of all shapes, sizes and calibres are ostensibly the relevant tools of war to effect desired outcomes.

On the other hand, diplomacy became the most common, bloodless means of conflict resolution. Trade, culture and sporting ties occupy various levels of confidence-building that form up the many components of diplomacy and hence peaceful conflict resolution.

As the world developed in a post-colonial setting, trade and economics took centre stage in propping up cross-national and pan-continental conquest and Machiavellian tools of diplomacy gained steam, using influence as leverage in not just resolving bloody disputes, but as a crucial means of motivation away from wars and propelling compelling solutions.

Today, Russia has been booted out of FIFA – the international federation of football – and international tournaments while teams owned or having investment from Russian oligarchs face sanctions. Impacting sports and using it for political statements is not new. It forms a key part of a culture war that is waged to have a deeper impact than just militaristic and economic measures.

When Colin Kaepernick took the knee during American National Football League matches, he and those who followed him were derided for bringing politics onto the sports field and for attacking the prevailing culture and that competitive sports need to remain true to athleticism and not political statements.

Yet, the British and American governments have a long history of using sports to not only send political messages but also use it as another weapon to wage wars of ideas. In 1980, then American President Jimmy Carter had led a boycott of the Olympics in Moscow – then the capital of the Soviet Union. The boycott was a protest against the host nation for having invaded Afghanistan at the height of the cold war. The boycott was a carefully planned weapon against the Soviets as it not only further diminished the Soviet stature in the comity of nations but also impacted it financially. Not to mention the impact it had on sports. Subsequently, the Soviets boycotted the next iteration of the games, which were held in the United States.

More recently, the US and the UK led a boycott of the 2022 Winter Olympics which are being held in China to protest against Beijing’s purported genocide of Uighur Muslims and human rights violations in Tibet.

Double standards

When Abramovich first appeared on the British Isles in 2003, looking to buy a football club, he had a host of options to choose from. There were few questions raised then on either Abramovich, his friends, or frankly, even the source of his money. All the British government and thousands of adoring fans saw was a man willing to invest around £140 million and save a club dangerously close to defaulting to its creditors and being torn apart – and perhaps with it, the entire league. That was a period when Britain opened its doors to financing of all kinds while turning a blind eye to its sources as it desperately sought to bolster its flagging economy after a decade and a half of crippling Thatcherism.

Abramovich was perhaps the key that finally turned open that lock. In subsequent years people from all over started streaming in on private yachts and jets with suitcases full of cash. The banks laundered ill-gotten monies, stashing them in off-shore accounts, the lawyers made high profile disputes disappear, estate agents sold apartments in newly built skyscrapers and mansions in Kensington for a price equivalent to the gross domestic product of small countries, while the more ambitious bought football clubs and bet on horses in the annual derby.

This new money changed the beautiful game too. Out went the passion for cultivating local boys into world-beaters over years and in came big-money signings and the thirst for short term success. It was all, you see, big business. Hence, any new investor had only one real pre-condition – be ready to spend even more than previously spent by the other investors in the room. Thaksin Shinawatra, Abu Dhabi Group, and even the Saudi Investment Group were all welcomed with open arms.

Investigations by Putin-critic and Russian opposition figures and Alexei Navalny’s anti-corruption organization painted a picture that London was the prime playground of Russian oligarchs and senior government officials along with their “second families”.

Even now, with Chelsea FC, there is a minority view that Abramovich, who helped develop the club, personally pouring £1.5 billion into his passion project, should not be allowed to sell the club. Instead, the sanctions mean that either the club will go into regulator administration or that the government will issue a special licence for its sale to a group of new owners while pocketing all the proceeds.

For Abramovich, investing in a London-based club was more than just a statement of wealth. Some argue it was his safety net should he ever have to sever ties with Putin. Instead, the British government viewed Abramovich and other oligarchs’ presence as a pathway for Putin to creep into western Europe through a backdoor.

Russia is cancelled

Some may argue that sanctions are nothing new and that economic and trade curbs are an established norm when it comes to international diplomacy against unruly actors. True, but in the case of Russia, it seems to have taken on a life of its own.

Sanctions are usually on countries that are then barred from certain kinds of financial or material transactions with strict monitoring, such as those placed on Iran, Iranians and Iranian entities. Normally, it imposes a higher cost to the common man in those countries to influence them to rise against the problematic policies of their leaders.

In the case of Russia, however, there seems to have been the makings of implementing a “cancel” culture at the state level. This call-out ostracism culture grew to prominence along with the #MeToo movement on the internet where known abusers or offenders were called out and “cancelled” with people publicly disassociating themselves with the “cancelled” individual. The object of such a public boycott was to promote a context of “guilt by association”.

With countries imposing sanctions on Russia, we saw a host of international firms start to pull out, penalising thousands of average Russians for the actions of its government. This includes financial gateways such as Visa and MasterCard, video streaming platform Netflix, and even fast-food chains McDonald's and drinks giant Coca Cola.

Such has been the impact of cancel culture around the war that a Russian pianist due to play in an orchestra in Montreal, Canada was dropped from the programme this week lest it offends patrons. In the US, restaurants owned by Russian origin businesspeople are being boycotted.

Back in England, the government waited before sanctioning Abramovich, giving him a chance after he put the club up for sale and announced that he will not withdraw the proceeds. Downing Street knew full well the impact it would have on Chelsea FC – more importantly on Abramovich - which is why it is still not averse to the club’s sale.

Unsurprisingly, key sponsors of the club have started to distance themselves from Chelsea FC following the sanctions including shirt sponsors, mobile firm Three and South Korean vehicle manufacturer Hyundai. Their brand, of course, is too important to be associated with the crony of a warlord. The club’s expensively assembled staff and a squad of international players are also mulling their futures, preferably away from the club and the unwanted off-pitch spotlight even as fans continue to chant Abramovich’s name.

Meanwhile, London’s Mayor Sadiq Khan has suggested seizing properties of sanctioned Russian oligarchs in Kensington and turning them into shelters of Ukrainian refugees. Perhaps he will turn Stamford Bridge – the beloved home of the men in blue – into a giant shelter.

Regardless of who wins in the Russia-Ukraine war, this will not only change the landscape of Europe but also of business and even sports. In an increasingly polarized world, it will not be long before we see the use of these weapons on shores nearer to home.