Monday, Jul. 28, 1980

On Your Marx, Get Set, Go!

Amid pomp and protest, the limping Olympiad takes off

For three hours the capacity crowd of 103,000 at Moscow's Lenin Stadium gazed in wonder at the gorgeous pageantry: a replica of a Greek chariot circling the track, dance troupes, precision ribbon twirlers, and a torchbearer who reached the top of the stadium by climbing a human staircase formed by some 500 soldiers holding wooden panels above their heads with the aid of sturdy braces. There was even a flash-card crew of 2,000 soldiers spelling out slogans like O SPORT, YOU ARE PEACE, HAPPINESS, JOY.

Despite all that pomp, no one at the opening ceremonies of the XXII Olympiad last Saturday could forget that it was something less than the real thing. About 30 countries that had planned to send athletes decided not to because of the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan. Of the 81 countries participating, 16 staged symbolic protests during the opening-day parade by carrying Olympic banners rather than their national flags.

Saturday's events mirrored the struggle that had gone on all week between the Soviets, striving to keep the glitter on their long-awaited spectacle, and the non-Communist nations, pretending they were somewhere else or concentrating on future Games. One impression quickly became clear: the Soviets own the television transmitters, and they are not bashful about decreeing what may and may not be beamed into the world's living rooms about their Olympics.

Despite the U.S.-inspired boycott, the Olympics have generated plenty of news for the 5,500 foreign journalists on hand.* The International Olympic Committee met in Moscow's House of Unions for four days before the opening ceremonies, and members spent much of the time debating the boycott. The meetings also produced a flap over the American flag. I.O.C. officials want to run it up the pole at the Games' conclusion, as protocol dictates, to signify the U.S. as the site of the 1984 Olympiad. White House Counsel Lloyd Cutler last week sent the I.O.C. a letter objecting to that plan, but the committee plans to stand fast. Meanwhile, the local organizers of the 1984 Los Angeles Games submitted an upbeat report on their preparations and promised to pay the estimated tab of $347 million without U.S. Government aid. They could not have been too heartened, however, by a report from officials of this year's Lake Placid Winter Games, who said that they still have a debt of almost $8 million.

During its sessions, the I.O.C. approved a clutch of new women's events, including a bicycle race of either 50 or 70 km, the 400-meter intermediate hurdles and the 3,000-meter run. The last event leaves female distance runners less than 25 miles short of their goal: a marathon for women. One less orthodox addition is windsurfing, in which both sexes may compete. Naturally, there were some losers too: table tennis was rejected.

The I.O.C. also voted last week to install Spain's Juan Antonio Samaranch as its president when the eight-year term of Ireland's beleaguered Lord Killanin is extinguished along with the Moscow flame on Aug. 3. A former boxer who now prefers to swing at golf balls, Samaranch, 60, will resign this fall as his country's Ambassador to the Soviet Union to devote full time to the nonpaying position. Like most of his I.O.C. colleagues, the diplomat takes a dun view of the American-led boycott, but insists that he is "totally committed" to having the 1984 Games in Los Angeles. For his part, Killanin was a good deal more acerbic about President Carter's campaign to trip up the Moscow Games. Also foolish. He maintained that if the program had included football and baseball, the Americans would have participated.

The Soviets, too, were playing hardball. Authorities at the spanking new Olympic TV center at Ostankino in northern Moscow have told journalists who want to transmit footage back home via the center's facilities that any film will be rejected if it strays even slightly from the subject of sports. The first victim of this policy was Klaus Bednarz, a correspondent for the West German network ARD. His report, titled The Olympics and Propaganda, was turned down flat by officials, so he had to send it by air freight.

The Soviets have banned TV crews from Red Square, presumably to prevent them from recording any anti-Soviet demonstrations, and denied them access to Lenin Stadium during a rehearsal of opening ceremonies. A Frenchman who tried to film the Olympic Press Center, six blocks from the Kremlin, was prevented from doing so by local militiamen; journalists have also been barred from hotels where foreign tourists are staying. The Soviets even refused to allow the U.S. Ambassador to deliver his traditional Fourth of July speech and the French Ambassador to make his traditional Bastille Day speech, because both contained references to Afghanistan. Soviet officials also refused to transmit a French TV report on the Bastille Day censorship.

The Olympic hosts are worried not only about what sort of nonsports material will be beamed to those outside the motherland, but also about propagandizing within their borders. For months they have been warning citizens about disruptions being plotted by the CIA, "Zionists and fascists." Only last week the party paper, Sovietskaya Rossiya, charged that U.S. and NATO intelligence services had set up special schools to train dozens of agents to visit Moscow disguised as tourists with "anti-Soviet material" hidden in false-bottomed suitcases and in their underwear. qed

* NBC, which plans only a few minutes of coverage a day instead of its original 152 1/2hours, is sending 50 employees, down from 650 before the boycott. Fifty other accredited U.S. journalists will be there.

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