Wimbledon double fault on the point of openness
PremiumThe contest’s barring of Russian and Belarusian tennis players in knee-jerk response to the Ukraine war is an error of both principle and strategy, a big point lost in the larger context
Though it is risky nowadays to be sure of past certainties, it’s safe to suppose this was not a case of mistaken identity. The image of a Wimbledon cup held aloft by a Russian called Medvedev, a prospect that’s said to have haunted the All England Club ever since Russia invaded Ukraine, was surely not of Dmitry Medvedev, the deputy chief of Russia’s Security Council, former seat-warmer for its President Vladimir Putin and presumed crony of a war-bent autocrat, but of Daniil Medvedev, the 26-year-old sportsman seen to have a shot at displacing 34-year-old Novak Djokovic as the world’s top-ranked player of men’s tennis. But then, the challenger happens to be Russian, enough to fray some British nerves. On Wednesday, organizers of the championship claimed clarity in their decision to keep Russian and Belarusian players out of this summer’s slam-fest on grass. Given the war’s ravages, they said, they needed to limit Moscow’s influence and would not let Putin’s regime derive any benefits from their participation. The upshot: tennis fans will not only miss a Medvedev versus Djokovic match, they’ll see the women’s game deprived of Victoria Azarenka and Aryna Sabalenka for the misfortune of being Belarusian. As double faults go, few could have evoked a collective groan as loud as this misguided ban.
Wimbledon’s first fault was on a point of principle. If it considers Russia an autocracy, then its people must broadly be taken as victims too. Ditto, Belarus. The war cannot be pinned on their citizens, who had no evident say in it, not even electorally. Instead, the Club has effectively clubbed them all together for joint punitive action, an illiberal approach which offends the idea of individual liberty that underpins the moral case for democracy to defeat autocracy globally. This irony is made no better by what the ban implies for the field of sports in this ‘open era’. Open minds, it would seem, can no longer be counted upon to prevail in an arena that has a spectacular role to play in a global love game, as it were, one that must display a sporting spirit that rises above jigsaws on a map to foster openness over otherness. Yet, an iron curtain has begun to descend. Thankfully, protests have arisen. Buffs of the game recalled Russian player Andrey Rublev’s “No war please" after a recent match in Dubai. They were also relieved to hear Djokovic call this flagrant mixing of politics with sports “crazy" after he made his anti-war stance clear, calling himself a “a child of war". As a Serb, he said, he was well aware of its trauma. Wimbledon’s move was dubbed “unfair" by ATP, the entity which governs men’s tennis. In its view, it could set a bad precedent for the sport.
The Club’s second fault was along strategic lines. Its move exposed an unseemly fear of what eyeballs affixed on a Russian could do, thus conceding a crucial point on freedom of expression. Why deny it to anyone? Medvedev has a gritty unorthodox style, with fabulous back-hand strokes and a Nadalesque nose for defence, and his game has been on the sort of ascent that tennis lovers would want kept free of disruption. Why a Wimbledon victory by him should be a setback for the ‘free world’ that the West claims to lead is baffling. One big benefit to be had by keeping courts open would’ve been its signal of openness and respect for individuality, a point of difference that its peevish response has squandered. This is an advantage lost. And it calls for a groan.