Olympic Blames

 It was the Cold War Era and the Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) did what they did best- spied and reported back to the US Government on all and anything involving the USSR. 

In early December 1979 a dossier was presented specifically on the preparations by the Soviets ahead of the Olympic Games in the Summer of the following year. It begrudgingly acknowledged that Moscow had made considerable efforts to win the bid and that it would represent a major showcase event. 

There was speculation by the analysts that the facilities and infrastructure would struggle to be completed in time for the Opening Ceremony. Almost all had been built for the Olympics under a project purported to have cost $9 billion (roughly $26 billion today). 

The wide ranging scope of the report also gave comment and opinion on how the massive costs would be financed, the dependence on non-Eastern Bloc countries for technology and specialisms, the organisational framework and also how the Soviets would act and be perceived as hosts to the global influx of Athletes, tourists and media. 

It was to be Moscow’s moment to shine. 

The date of the report was significant as within a couple of weeks of its Confidential circulation the military forces of the USSR invaded Afghanistan and all of the preparation and investment was as quickly undone by geo-politics: 

65 countries, led by the United States, boycotted the Games in protest of the invasion of another sovereign nation. In partial support of the American-led boycott the UK government allowed its athletes to choose whether to compete but only a few athletes chose to stay away. There was a token GB boycott of the opening ceremony, the Olympic flag was raised for the British medal winners and the Olympic anthem played for the five gold medallists.

Cynics said that it was a calculated participation by Great Britain with many key competitors and medal contenders being absent leaving the field, track, hall and pool open for a serious attempt at winning medals. 

Despite the boycott, the Games generally were deemed a success. 

The Soviet economy did later falter and the communist superpower collapsed just 11 years after being in the world spotlight. How much the financial burden of hosting the Games contributed to the eventual demise of the USSR was touched upon by the CIA as a matter of speculation.

There was a great cartoon in the satirical Punch Magazine in the UK showing two chubby, unshaven and beer drinking Russian athletes, kitted out on the stadium track with the caption "To be frank, we didn't think anybody would turn up".

I remember watching the BBC TV coverage of the Moscow Olympics at the age of 16. I was quite sporty myself, a bit of a sprinter and keen on the 800 metres but the event that really caught my attention was the Javelin competition.

Because of the depleted attendance from the boycott the 18 competitors took part in one qualifying group. This was staged on July 26th 1980, with the automatic qualifying mark set at 80.00 metres (262.47 ft).

In rainy conditions several favourites had difficulties getting through. All three Soviet throwers and Hungary's defending champion Nemeth reached the automatic qualifying mark (80.00 m) in the first round, but the other Hungarian, Paragi, who had broken the world record earlier in 1980, only got a good throw in the third and final qualification round and East Germany's Detlef Michel, who was one of those expected to do so and would win the World Championship in 1983, failed to qualify. 

In fact only 10 participants attained the qualifying standard and so two Detlef Fuhrmann and Stefan Stoykov although not reaching the mark were drafted in to make up the required twelve finalists^.. The final took place on the following day.

Best expectations in the final were Paragi, three Soviets and East Germany's Wolfgang Hanisch, a three-time medalist at European Championships. Hanisch was an early leader after throwing 86.72 m in the first round, closely followed by two of the Soviets, Heino Puuste and Makarov, and Finland's Antero Puranen. 

Paragi had problems with his technique and failed to get a good throw, and the third Soviet thrower, Dainis Kūla, had no valid mark after two rounds.

In the third round Paragi got his best throw, 79.52 m, but it wasn't enough to move him to the top eight that would qualify for rounds four to six.

Dainis Kūla's third throw immediately became controversial as it landed almost completely flat (rather than point first), and a flat throw should have been ruled illegal. It was at this point that it appeared that the Soviet Officials were showing bias towards their own countrymen as no sanction for a foul throw was taken. Had that ruling been made, Kūla would have been out of the last three rounds. It was also claimed the throw's distance had been exaggerated at 88.88m with the actual distance being around 87 m.

Flat or ambiguously flat throws were not uncommon with the old javelin designs then used, nor were "generous" judgments by officials. Kūla's case, however, gained much notoriety as it not only secured him Olympic gold, but was seen as being a wider pattern of Soviet officials favouring their own athletes throughout the 1980 Games.

In round four Kūla improved further to 91.20 m, the eventual winning distance. Makarov got his best throws in rounds five and six and took silver ahead of Hanisch

I found the competition fascinating but sadly my abiding memory is about the further and most enduring controversy surrounding Soviet officials who reputedly opened the stadium's outer gates when Soviet athletes were throwing, letting more wind in to aid the throws.

In Finland (which had three athletes in the final), the gate issue spurred much discussion and lived on in public memory for a long time. In a bit of a sarcastic protest Kūla was greeted with shouts of "open the gates!" when he competed in the 1983 World Championships in the Finnish capital, Helsinki and when the 2013 World Championships were held in Moscow the gate controversy again became a talking point.

At the time there were arguments that the Javelin competition should have been voided by the IAAF and either held again at some future date, or removed from the Olympic records

However, no official complaints or protests were filed, and the original results were allowed to stand. 

I did see a bit of a footnote that scientists did actually carry out an experiment to see if a howling tail wind would be a benefit to a javelin's trajectory and range.

They concluded that it was in fact more of a hindrance for the aerodynamics of a steel javelin and so the whole controversy may just have been a bit of anti-Soviet propaganda by the interfering West. 

No doubt there is a CIA Report all about it somewhere in the archives.

Reds in the Hedge

There was a lot of activity at the end of the street.

In fact, I tend to think that what I could see was actually a Police cordon.

That was definitely a first for the area. Not just one officer on duty but three, edgy and nervously glancing at the cars and pedestrians as they either passed by as a matter of fact or were just a bit inquisitive about the unusual goings on. A few brave persons on foot were poised to ask that inevitable question about what was up but a stiffening and bristling of those on guard duty was enough to deter them.

The reason for the formal roadblock was not, obviously, down to a leaking gas or water main. I could not see a glow nor smell the distinctive odour attributable to an outbreak of fire. I suppose it could have been a murder or a domestic incident.

The traffic had slowed enough for me to glance past the street end. In the cul de sac beyond there was a fleet of squad cars and those big black, unmarked vans often referred to as Marias  (mer-rye -ers) used to cart off the naughty boys and girls to the nearest police station.

More of the local constabulary could be seen chatting with some quite ominous looking para-military types in full combat gear and casually swinging machine pistols on their hips as they hung down from heavy duty canvas straps slung over their padded shoulders.

It was a couple of days before the local  paper realised the newsworthiness of the event. They speculated wildly on the first front page account out of desperation to beat the free weeklies to the story.

Gradually some semblance of professional journalism emerged and in the following days an incredible tale was recounted.

The target of the attention of the authorities had been a single semi detached house in that quiet suburban road, Kirkham Drive, Hull, HU5.

It was just an ordinary red brick built place with a rosemary tile roof, tidy woodwork and a neat front garden. In the windows hung those detestable net curtains giving just enough privacy and an implied  message of 'there's nothing worth looking at or to be bothered about here, thank you very much'.

After the initial assault on the house and whoever its occupant was a good proportion of its contents had been removed by the task force. The local newspaper had published some grainy internal photographs to pad out its now top running feature.

The source of the pictures was not clear. They may have been acquired in a plain brown envelope from a person in an official capacity. In fact, one of the neighbours trusted with a key for those emergencies that always occur when the owner is away on a trip was responsible either willingly for a cash consideration or had been duped by a young, attentive reporter type.

Again, there was nothing remarkable about the house. A bit plain and drab to the décor and furnishings but nevertheless functional and comfortable. There were, however, a lot of shelves packed with weighty books in every room, lavatory included.

This was not the norm from my experience of the typical residents of the street. They usually had a small collection of those thick volumes produced with regular monotony by Reader's Digest on such subjects as Heritage, General Knowledge, The Royal Family and of course the Book of The Road. These themes were all that was required to answer the persistent queries of small children or settle a dispute after a Pub Quiz Night.

The shelving was stout and wall to wall, firmly fixed to the masonry and not flat pack or unstable if overloaded. Most of the horizontal surfaces of tables, window cills, kitchen worktops and even either side of the staircase treads were covered with files and loose papers and more were protruding out of a great variety of cardboard boxes distributed under and around the furniture.

I had seen similar ordered chaos in the homes of academics and those of respectable and apparently harmless eccentricity.

The former was applicable in this instance.

The owner occupier was a lecturer at the city University. One of those small columns on an inner page of the local paper gave a potted biography of the man. Born up North, State School educated but bright, earned a Scholarship to a prestigious southern place of learning, excellent First Class Degree , a gap year of letting rip on a global circumnavigation, a stop off in the Soviet Union, post graduate studies to Doctorate level, teaching posts at a number of worthy establishments, then what to me appeared to be a bit of a breakdown in that he ended up here in a good, steady but lower league of academia.

The high flyer appeared to have hit one of those glass ceilings.

His subject had always been Economics and Social History. In his first Uni year he had joined the Communist Party. It was a small branch of disaffected sons and daughters of the wealthy. His motivation was primarily to meet the volatile female members who were like nothing else he had encountered in his previous life. They were an active group, mainly because being of limited numbers they only required the hire of one mini-bus for a campaign outing to attend picket lines, support striking comrades or attend regional and national conferences and gatherings.

The highlight of each successive year of being a Card Carrying Communist was a visit to the Motherland. These were officially received and he had built up quite a network of contacts in a number of State Departments in the USSR.

His profile in the newspaper column all pointed to one outcome.

He was eventually recruited as a Spy.

It was not at all glamorous or hazardous. A job in London had enabled him to mix and fraternise with women working in Ministry positions. His handlers seemed pleased with the non-specific information that he was able to gather.

It was then a period of upheaval and political activity in the eastern states of the Soviet Bloc. Solidarity Trade Union in Poland had begun the process of  dismantling and then collapsing the Russian Empire. Their man in our city provided information of the level of support both collectively and from powerful individuals on his side of the North Sea.

A few in influential positions in UK Universities were exiles from behind the Iron Curtain and were befriended and quietly relieved of any matters of potential interest from their ongoing involvement with their beloved but imprisoned colleagues in the Old Country.

All of this was done with skill and diligence.

To the neighbours he was just someone clever who worked at the University and was away a lot.

His career in espionage had lasted for 12 years being curtailed only by the change in outlook and Regime brought about by the events around the fall of the Berlin Wall and the ensuing domino effect.

I still glance up that street whenever I drive past the road end but nothing has come anywhere near to that series of events in terms of intrigue and excitement.