The War on the Piste

By Samuel Kobi

“Ping,” you just got a notification. Is it Snapchat or Instagram? A text from your friend asking you to hang out after you finish practice? No, absolutely not! It is Air Alert (Повітряна тривога) letting you know that there is an imminent Russian missile approaching your neighborhood. Almost all Ukrainians, including fencer Vlada Kharkova, receive these notifications daily. Before the war started, Vlada Kharkova was a promising women’s epee fencer in Ukraine, excited for the future. However, the war and these types of daily notifications completely uprooted the daily lives of all Ukrainians and changed how Ukrainian athletes see their sport of fencing. 

In Ukraine and throughout Europe, when an individual is successful in any sport, including fencing, from a young age, the sport becomes their life and the whole profession. This path is a major contrast to fencers in the states who attend top universities, pursuing PhDs while practicing early in the morning or late at night to maintain their high world rankings. For Ukrainian fencers, early on, academics take a backseat to fencing. When entering college, most Ukrainian fencers apply to a college solely dedicated to physical education, such as the National University of Ukraine on Physical Education and Sport. From there, fencers would attend various fencing camps around the country weekly. On weekends, they would compete in Ukrainian competitions, world cups, or Grand Prixs. Overall, their whole life was set up to succeed in their sport of fencing. This all changed on February 24, 2022, when Russia attacked Ukraine. 

The first few months after the war started, fencing and all other sports came to a halt. The Ukrainian government froze all of the funds of the fencing federation during the early months of the war. A lot of destruction took place, especially in western Ukraine, which is home to the city of Kharkiv, a major fencing hub. In the most recent report, the Ukrainian government reports that 343 sports facilities have been destroyed to this day. 

During this period, many fencers pondered, if they were able to resume practice, would they continue fencing? Then, in the middle of May, three months after the war started, Poland invited the Ukrainian fencing team to a camp, and it came time to decide: return to fencing or stay and support their home country in other ways. At that point, many fencers, including many of Vlada Kharkova’s friends, had already joined the army, so they had decided some time ago. Male fencers who did not voluntarily enlist had no choice since martial law in Ukraine declared that men above eighteen could not travel abroad, so very few men, if any, attended the fencing camp. At that point, the decision was left to the women fencers. As a result, many women, such as Vlada Kharkova, tried to ease themselves back into fencing at the month-long camp in Poland. After Poland, many other countries reached out and invited Ukrainians to train in their respective countries. 

After returning from Poland and other fencing camps, Vlada explains that the Ukrainian Fencing Federation tried to set up practices and camps within Ukraine again, specifically in the capital of Kyiv. When recalling her thoughts before the first fencing practice, Kharkova explains that she “was very against the training camps in Kyiv since it was very dangerous. There was no other choice, though, since our only money came from the Olympic federation, which only allowed us to fence in Kyiv.”

Many fencers attended, but, as Kharkova predicted, the conditions were unacceptable and even perilous at times. Up until a few months ago, throughout the winter, when temperatures often drop below freezing, fencing facilities in Ukraine had no lighting or heating for most of the day. Fencing is a sport that requires electricity since the machines function on an electronic touch system. Practice plans changed whenever the lights would go out, and fencers would do footwork and active workouts to stay warm. When first arriving at the only working fencing facility in Kyiv, women’s epee fencer Vlada Kharkova recalls hiding in a bomb shelter the first five hours of training camp as kamikaze drones flew overhead; one of the drones exploded a kilometer away from the training facility. 

Ukrainian men’s epee fencer Roman Svichkar remembers the first competition in Ukraine since the beginning of the war; he was fencing a direct elimination bout when sirens went off, and everyone had to evacuate the facility. All the fencers ran to the bunker in their fencing outfits and sat there for several hours. By the end of the air raid, there was no option but to resume fencing. Unpredictable situations like these have been the norm for many fencers and other athletes in Ukraine. By-products of the war, such as these situations and training conditions, made it impossible for fencers to comfortably return and immerse themselves in the sport they had committed their lives to. 

These events and other factors of the war forced many Ukrainian fencers to make another decision: stick through these unacceptable conditions that hinder practice or move away to another country indefinitely and fence there. In addition, when the martial law ruling loosened up, some men could also decide whether to travel for competitions over the weekend. When speaking with Ukrainian Olympic fencer Roman Svichkar, he explained his thinking when considering whether or not to attend a competition in another country over the weekend: “It was a difficult decision, but I felt a moral obligation to my family and decided that I could not leave them.”

 Svichkar’s perspective is prevalent among Ukrainian fathers who are fencers. For this reason, combined with several other factors, many Ukrainians decided they would continue practicing in Ukraine. Other Ukrainians decided it was best to go to another country and fence there. This was common among the Ukrainian women’s fencing community, with 40,000 Ukrainian athletes of various sports forced abroad. 

Despite not physically fighting in the war, these fencers still proudly represent their homeland and fight in other forms. Fencing is an ancient sport dating back to thousands of years BCE that was used to defend honor: a sport of combat, outsmarting, and fighting. Through their sports, the Ukrainian fencers battled the narrative that even though Ukraine was war-torn and physically destroyed, its spirit was not. Instead, they showed strong, seasoned athletes that dominate on the piste, reflective of the Ukrainian’s perseverant spirit and culture. Despite all setbacks, Ukrainian fencers like Vlada Kharkova, Olga Kharlan, Igor Reizlin, and Volodymyr Stankevych are fencing so well that they are all securing top sixteen rankings in their respective weapons, sending a message to the world that Ukraine is still strong and flourishing. 

On March 10, the Federación Internacional de Esgrima (FIE) voted that Russian and Belorussian fencers would be allowed to participate in Olympic qualifying events starting in the second half of April as independent athletes under a white flag. This ruling led to a major backlash from the whole fencing community and sports communities around the world. Many organizations and individuals disagreed with this rule, especially the Ukrainians. On this matter, Vlada Kharkova explains that  “the war has to be at the front of everybody’s mind, and by allowing Russians to the fence, we would be ignoring the adverse effects of the war. It would be unfair for Russians to compete from great facilities while we are subjected to these unacceptable conditions because of Russian aggression.”

USA Fencing CEO Phil Andrews released a statement saying, “USA Fencing is disappointed, frustrated and disturbed… Many will speculate, but one thing is painfully clear: Russia has not ended its unlawful and immoral assault on Ukraine — an invasion that has resulted in thousands of senseless deaths, an unprecedented refugee crisis and the destruction of Ukraine’s sporting infrastructure, notably including the evacuation of its fencing athletes.”

In addition, at the prospect of being represented by a white flag, President Volodymyr Zelenskyy explains that “a white or any neutral flag is impossible for Russian athletes. All their flags are stained in blood.”

This outrage throughout the world, and especially in the fencing community, was unified by Olga Kharlan, Ukraine’s most prolific women’s fencer. First, she created an Instagram group of the biggest names in fencing and several others that have expressed dissatisfaction with the FIE ruling. The first plan of action was to create a video compilation of the biggest names in the fencing world, saying, “No, we don’t agree.” 

This video spread like wildfire around the fencing community. Seeing the world’s best fencers expressing their disappointment on social media empowered people to repost this video and openly support the Ukrainian’s cause.

After this powerful video, a letter was sent to the International Olympic Committee (IOC) and FIE with hundreds of signatures from fencers worldwide. The main argument throughout the letter is explained with one of the first sentences saying, “Russia’s aggression violates… the fundamental values of Olympism, including peace, harmonious development of humankind and respect for human dignity and human rights.” 

The Ukrainians did not stop with the video and the petition but pushed on to begin a legal battle. On April 5, the Fencing Federation of Ukraine sued the Swiss court, requesting the FIE decision to be repealed. The Ukrainians are in an ongoing legal battle, hoping to get recognition for their cause and change the verdict. 

The Ukrainian Sports Minister, Vadim Hutzeitt, a former Olympic gold-medalist in saber, took the most effective action when saying that Ukrainian athletes would not compete at any Olympic qualifying events with Russians. If the FIE finally follows through with repealing the ban on Russian athletes, they would be alienating all Ukrainian fencers and potential other athletes who stand in solidarity with their cause. This action would be a bad look for FIE, and their credibility and establishment would be called into question by fencing communities and federations worldwide since it seems they are unintentionally excluding an already oppressed population. When asked, although, in a difficult situation, several fencers agreed with Hutzeitt’s declaration. When speaking with Kharkova, she explained, “I cannot participate in competitions where I have to shake Russian fencers’ hands. I cannot acknowledge. It is still very hard to believe that this next competition might be my last.”

Most recently, at a competition in Wuxi, China, which some Ukrainians thought would be their last since the next tournament would include Russians, a small group of fencers tried to do their part in the information war against Putin’s propaganda by putting up a poster exposing the numerous Ukrainian athletes that the Russian military has killed. In one video, FIE representatives took their poster down several times. This video, similar to the compilation video earlier in the year, spread rapidly on social media within the fencing and international sports communities, depicting the FIE as an organization not sympathetic to the Ukrainian cause. 

All of these different protest forms, whether on social media, in government, or boycotts, leave the FIE in an awkward position. To this day, FIE has not yet followed through with its ban on Russian athletes by creating a lengthy bureaucratic process to readmit them into the international fencing circuit as FIE decides what to do next. The Ukrainian fencers continue contributing to their fight, doing their part in the battle against Russia’s aggression and violence by keeping Russian involvement out of the sport they love. 

Although it may seem vain to speak about sports in a time of war when innocent people are being killed, and cities are destroyed, sports play a vital role in the battle for public support. In addition, sports have served as a reflection of a country’s power and perseverant values. The public sports battle can be seen throughout the Cold War in the US boycott of the Moscow Olympics in 1980, sporting events such as the Miracle on Ice in Lake Placid, and the ongoing chess battle between Russian and American grandmasters throughout the Cold War. The chess battle is particularly symbolic since chess is a representation of war, domination, and a battle of the wits, similar to fencing, which has the nickname physical chess. Although the physical battle of the war continues throughout Ukraine. The public battle continues on the strip, social media, and various other facets. As a leader in this battle, former Olympic fencer and current Ukrainian Sports Minister Vadim Hutzeitt declared that “the enemy is destroying the civilian infrastructure, which includes sports, purposefully and cynically. They are trying to break our economy, to break ourselves — to intimidate and make us desperate. But they will not succeed. Sport in Ukraine has been, is, and always will be.”