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| quote: | Real Snow is Guaranteed
// Vladimir Putin Wins Over IOC Members with Arguments for Sochi
Late on Wednesday evening, the International Olympic Committee chose the host city for the 2014 Winter Olympic Games. Sochi's candidacy was represented by Russian President Vladimir Putin, and by the end of the ceremony, even Kommersant special correspondent Andrei Kolesnikov believed that the Russian bid would triumph. And in the end, it did.
Vladimir Putin made his pitch in front of the members of the IOC on the sixth floor of the Intercontinental Hotel in Guatemala City. The Russian president and his companion, Interros CEO Vladimir Potanin, had about twenty minutes to make their case to each member of the committee. The first person into the room was the president of the International Track and Field Association, one of the committee's most influential members. Meanwhile, a frantic search was in progress for another of member of the committee, who, it emerged later (at least according to the official version of events), had suddenly been taken ill. A replacement was quickly found, however – there was no shortage of people that day who wanted to meet with Mr. Putin.
At the same time, in the Marriott Hotel, the Sochi 2014 bid committee was giving a press briefing. The event was marked by a question posed by a Korean spy, who snuck in at the tail end of the pack of reporters a few minutes before the press conference began. His colleagues from Korea were videotaping him as he asked his question, and he was so flustered that he was able to spit it out only on the second try: why were figure-skating champion Evgeny Plushenko and several other Russian athletes using poor Guatemalan children by showing them sporting demonstrations, handing out autographs, and then turning footage of it all into advertisements?
The difficult task of responding to the provocateur was taken up by Russian bid committee head Dmitry Chernyshenko, who explained that it is part of a global program of Sochi 2014 sports ambassadors who are traveling around the world and giving special sports classes for children. He noted that the program has already visited Beijing and London and that there have not been any complaints. Now it is the Guatemalan children's turn to participate.
Mr. Chernyshenko clearly implied that the participation of the Guatemalan children in the sports classes run by Russian athletes cannot be called cynical exploitation of their slave labor for the benefit of the Russian bid. The Korean journalist, dissatisfied with video clip of the chairman's answer, attempted to asked another question, but he was beaten to the punch by a Russian Olympic freestyle champion, who quickly asked deputy prime minister Alexander Zhukov whether he worries that the Russian people will be deeply disappointed if for some reason the Olympics end up not being held in Sochi.
"We'll win!" said Mr. Zhukov. "We'll win! We don't know what will happen then. Tomorrow is the decisive day!"
His words reminded me of the Russian national anthem.
"We Russians have something special in our souls," said Mr. Chernyshenko, "and that is very important. Now the chairwoman of [our] bid committee, Elena Anikina, is going to tell you more about that."
"President Putin will be with us tomorrow," crowed Ms. Anikina, and it immediately became clear what each of us Russians have in our souls.
Tuesday evening was the opening ceremony of the IOC meeting. At the entrance to the room, the delegates and guests received strange children's toys that most closely resembled miniature drums. The first guest to appear was the Austrian chancellor, who arrived around half an hour before the beginning of the ceremony and sat in the third row. All of the rows and seats were marked: Mr. Putin was supposed to sit in the first row. A line of athletic young men in white in the second row were supposed separate him from his Austrian colleague. The fifth row was set aside for the Korean delegation, which was headed by the president of South Korea.
As the Austrian chancellor was whiling away the time before the start of the ceremony, he was approached by Russian Olympic Committee head Leonid Tyagachev, who patted him sympathetically on the shoulder: don't be upset, his gesture said, it's nothing, so what if things didn't work out for you again, you just need to keep trying…
Then the South Korean president arrived with his wife, who was all decked out like a Christmas tree. Maybe it was some kind of war paint: everyone in the room approached each conversation as though it were their final battle.
The ceremony was already due to start, but one person was missing: the president of Russia. No surprises there. I gathered that not all of the members of the IOC are acquainted with this tragic personality quirk of the Russian president, however, since several of them did seem surprised. Mr. Putin must have been demonstrating his Olympic calm and his nerves of steel to pull that same trick even here, so far from his native land.
He appeared only about twenty minutes later, greeted the Austrian chancellor, and waved at the Korean president; seeing the latter's upset face, however, he walked over to shake his hand before taking his seat next to the equestrian Svetlana Zhurova, Dmitry Chernyshenko, and figure skater Evgeny Plushenko.
The lights in the hall went down, and Jacques Rogge appeared in the glow of the projectors. "The president…" thundered the loudspeakers.
I was sure just then that Vladimir Putin would stand up.
"…of the international Olympic Committee, Jacques Rogge!" Mr. Rogge delivered a beautiful and nonsensical speech about the ideals of sport and peace and the difficult decision that each member of the IOC was going to have to make.
Judging from the cloudless visage of Vladimir Putin as he left the room after the ceremony, fondling the tiny toy drum (it was somehow menacing to watch him) that he had been given on his way out the door, their decision pleased him.
The next morning, I was standing in the second-floor corridor near the entrance to the Westin Camino Real conference hall, where each candidate country was due to make its final presentations. As the members of the committee arrived, a woman carrying a copper bell whose tinkling was almost inaudible walked around, requesting that everyone take their seats. One member of the IOC, a young woman, arrived pushing her two-month-old baby in a stroller. The organizers spent a good ten minutes puzzling over what to do with them, and it seemed to me that they had just decided not to let either her or her baby in when Prince Albert of Monaco interceded for her, and they were both allowed in.
Finally, President Putin's entourage appeared on the escalator. The tension reached fever pitch, and my nerves gave way: "Stay cool!" I cried.
Mr. Putin had already walked past, but he turned around and asked coolly, "for what?"
I didn't manage to reply.
The Russian president waited in the vestibule for ten minutes until it was his turn to go on. He was surrounded by several people, but he spent most of the time talking with Svetlana Zhurova, who had clearly enjoyed the attention of a hairstylist that morning (Mr. Putin's hair looked like it had merely been clipped).
Ms. Zhurova said something to the president, who smiled and seemed calmer than usual, which indicated to me that inside he must be an enormous bundle of nerves.
Then the moment came for him to talk for ten minutes in English.
And talk he did, although his speech appeared to have been written by Russians: several constructions were clearly not English.
"Sochi is a unique place," said Vladimir Putin. "On the seashore you can enjoy a fine spring day, but up in the mountains it's winter. I went skiing there six or seven weeks ago, and I know - real snow is guaranteed."
Mr. Putin articulated his words strongly, and if he hadn't smiled politely while he was speaking, I would have thought that he was treating the members of the IOC to a few choice moments from his infamous speech in Munich last February.
But overall the speech was from a man who made it clear that he understands the work that will have to go into preparing for the Olympics: there are too many miraculous feats that need to be accomplished in a very short time.
"We guarantee," he continued, "that the Olympic cluster in Sochi will be completed on time. We are allocating a round sum of $12 billion for this. The cluster is going to become a regional, national, and international sports venue. Special emphasis is placed on environment, security, infrastructure, up-to-date means of mass communication. Seventy percent of participants will be housed within a five-minute walking distance of the competition venues. Five-minute walking distance. Not bad. (Mr. Putin clearly had no time to consider the plight of the other 30%). The city of Sochi has exclusive offers: we are working on a list of special privileges for participants and guests of the Games. For example we plan to lift all restrictions on the minimum stay for delegations. This will be backed up by a special law. I have already signed a decree to this effect. And one more special privilege: No traffic jams! I promise!"
Having delivered himself of this last line, Mr. Putin looked triumphantly around the room. He was clearly certain that this bit of information would have a particularly powerful effect on the IOC.
He finished in French, with a brief reminder to the committee that millions of Russians are awaiting their decision. I hope it didn't come off as a threat.
After that, the presentation continued for another thirty minutes.
"I've always admired the Russian team," said German figure-skating champion Katerina Witt. "They encourage their teammates…they're always together…they support each other… It seems to me that when you see four Russians, you see the whole country…"
The Chinese figure skater Lu Chen, who has thrown her support behind Sochi's bid, said, "the first thing that comes to mind when talking about Russia is cold, snow, it's winter sports – they have sporting traditions, you understand…"
Russian bid committee chairwoman Elena Anikina had more to say about the Russian soul (this concept was exploited particularly remorselessly throughout the presentation): "The Russian soul is a combination of the unique geographical position of our country and its many centuries of history…and the magical, mystical Russian winter has also had an influence on it! The hearts of Russians are filled with sentimentality, pragmatism, and generosity! We learned how to rely on each other to survive the long Russian winter… We learned how to trust each other. Trust is the foundation of any relationship… And I can assure you, ladies and gentlemen, that you can trust Russia and rely on it to host these Games at the highest level. You can rely on our Russian soul!"
At this point, if I were a member of the IOC, I would be taking all of this with a grain of salt.
After the paralympian Mikhail Terentiev, Svetlana Zhurova and Evgeny Plushenko took the stage. Their dialogue reminded me of the hosts of the television show "Dancing on Ice" or a rehearsal for the Oscars that had been cut short because of a bad script:
"Good morning everyone, good morning, Evgeny."
"Good morning Svetlana, good morning, everyone."
"Evgeny, what do you think makes an Olympian happy?"
"I think that an athlete is happy when he knows that he has done everything that he is capable of."
"I agree. That could be medals, personal records, or simply participation… We always strive for the best result."
"The two most important factors for our success are first-class sporting venues and an excellent Olympic village!"
"You know, I've worked on the creation of the plans for the Sochi Olympic village from the very beginning, I've participated in four Winter Olympics, and I know what it means to spend so much time in the Olympic village… That's why I want us to build a village that the athletes will love. For example, it's very important how much time is spent on the road to the competition and training venues… That's why everyone living in the Olympic village will be able to get to the competition venues in less than five minutes (if the presentation had gone on for another half an hour, I'm sure that the time would shrink even further, like, say, to a few seconds). Our four-star hotels mean unprecedented comfort…"
Zhukova and Plushenko demonstrated the beginning of the eighth day in Sochi in 2014 for the benefit of the IOC members.
A radio announcer's voice from behind the scenes: "7:30 – Sochi Olympic Radio is on the air. It's 7 degrees above zero in town and minus 8 in the mountains; the weather is gorgeous for all of the competitions today…"
"It's already noon, time to head off for the men's ski race…"
"Two competitions, a ski race and the biathlon, are underway on two separate slopes on Mount Psekhako… There will be many ski races today – for example, the final of the men's giant slalom will begin in a hour."
The presentation concluded with several questions from the audience. Prince Albert wanted to know what would happen if there was no snow in Sochi. Mentioning the similar disaster that befell Europe last winter, he added that artificial snow is not an option because the ecologists will raise a stink. He asked what the organizers of the Sochi Olympics will do, and it sounded to me like he was talking about the event as though things had already been decided.
The members of Sochi's bid committee appeared to have been anticipating that question, and they quickly dispelled any doubts on that account. Their response boiled down neatly: come hell or high water, snow will fall in Sochi in the spring of 2014.
After the presentation, as soon as Vladimir Putin had left the room in his haste to get out of Guatemala before the results of the voting were announced, I asked him, "did you sleep today?"
"As my friend George says," he answered with feeling, "like a baby!"
On Mr. Putin's way out of the Russian press center to get on his plane a little while later, I asked him one final question: "If you win these Olympics, will you return in 2012 to open them?"
"Well, it's still early…to plan," he said carefully.
In other words, the results aren't yet in, he seemed to want to say, but the issue of 2012 will depend on the outcome of the issue of 2014.
Of course he'll return.
After Mr. Putin had gone, I turned to Russian Transportation Minister and Table Tennis Federation chairman Igor Levitin and asked him what he thinks of all this.
"They were totally overwhelmed," he said.
"I didn't expect it either. They cried!"
By that point, almost no one would have expressed any doubt that Russia would make it into the second round of voting.
And I already had no doubt that somewhere, out in the wild blue yonder, Sochi would win over Pyeongchang.
And that's exactly what happened. |
Real Snow is Guaranteed
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