In the first week of the 2026 Milan/Cortina Winter Olympics, Ukrainian skeleton racer Vladyslav Heraskevych was disqualified after refusing to discard his helmet honoring Ukrainian athletes killed during the country’s war against Russia, an action that breached the International Olympic Committee’s (IOC) regulations on athlete expression.
Heraskevych’s disqualification is the most recent example of the IOC taking action to keep the Olympics as “apolitical” as possible. Here’s the thing: the Olympics, like sport itself, is political. Regardless of the IOC’s vigorous persecution of athletes who use the Olympics as a political platform, the organization cannot divorce itself from the fundamental truth that the Olympics have always been a political phenomenon.
I do have enough words to negotiate how one might define something as “political,” but if we approach politics as advancing the interests of a group or people, I strongly advocate for the argument that, both historically and contemporarily, not many institutions reflect politics as much as the Olympics.
Perhaps the most salient example of politics embedded into the Olympics is the 1936 Summer Games in Berlin, where Adolf Hitler and the Nazi Party approached the event as a way to display the vibrancy of Germany and spread the party’s propaganda. But when the African American track and field athlete Jesse Owens won four gold medals, he became a political symbol for anti-fascism, a fact highlighted on the Olympics’ official website.
Fast-forward to the 1968 Summer Olympics in Mexico City, where African American sprinters Tommie Smith and John Carlos, having both won medals in the 200-meter race, stood on the podium wearing Olympic Project for Human Rights badges and defiantly raised their black-gloved fists in protest of human rights violations around the world. Raising a black-gloved fist is also frequently recognized as a Black Power salute. The subsequent ostracization of Smith and Carlos from the U.S. Sporting establishment punctuated the political significance of their actions.
This year, the IOC barred Russian athletes from competing due to the country’s invasion of Ukraine, fans waved Greenland flags when the United States competed against Denmark, and JD Vance was booed by crowds when his face was shown on the jumbotrons. For decades, the IOC has attempted to keep the Olympics apolitical, but has always failed. I suggest that we lighten our critique of the IOC. After all, should we consider something a failure if the intended goal is impossible to achieve?
The beauty of history is that it builds connections between the past and present. In just a few succinct paragraphs, I can emphasize how the historical precedent of politics in the Olympics manifests itself in the 2026 Winter Olympics.
The Olympics will always be political. There is no disputing this fact. Since his disqualification, Heraskevych received a $200,000 reward from a Ukrainian businessman, along with generating overwhelming support from Ukrainians and international sympathizers alike for his courage. A recently published article from the BBC diagrams the name and sport of each athlete featured on Heraskevych’s helmet, reinforcing the achievement of his statement.
