Seven Oaks Magazine.

This week, in response to the Toronto Sun’s revelation that Nicholas Gill, flag-bearer for the Canadian contingent going to the Olympics in Athens, voted for Quebec sovereignty in the referendum of 1995, David Bedford, chef de mission for Canada, declared that, “I don’t believe politics has any place in sport.” With very few exceptions, it appears that Canada’s media disagrees. Considerable scorn has been heaped on the Canadian Olympic Committee (COC) for choosing Gill, all of it acknowledging his athletic worthiness, but doubting his political acumen. Bruce Dowbiggin, one of the better sportswriters in this country, castigated the COC for its choice, going so far as to link the sponsorship scandal, and the recent, closely-contested election to the choice of Gill as standard-bearer. Apparently, all decisions regarding anyone from Quebec should be made in light of past decisions, and thus where the sponsorship scandal made the Liberals appear to be in the back pocket of Quebec business, the flag flap makes apparent the contaminated connection between separatism and a Liberal government divorced from the concerns of its English citizens. Dowbiggin is only one of the more articulate voices in a chorus calling for the COC to revoke Gill’s right to bear the standard, and instead give it to the uber-patriot Daniel Igali.

Clearly, the Canadian media corps is in the right here on one point: Sports and politics are virtually inseparable, as much as we like to pretend that sports represent a non-partisan, even playing field. There are of course many individual examples highlighting the close ties between sports and politics. The Olympics themselves have hosted many of these political moments, from Jesse Owens trouncing Nazi Germany’s handpicked Aryan competitors in 1936 in Berlin to Tommie Smith and John Carlos giving the black power salute at the 1968 Olympics in Mexico City. In professional sport, Mohammed Ali’s principled stand against the Vietnam war provides a precedent for Toronto Blue Jays first baseman Carlos Delgado’s far more understated refusal to stand for God Bless America, to register his protest against the invasion of Iraq and the more than century-long subjugation of the people of Puerto Rico. In the United States, issues of segregation were discussed on a national stage when Jackie Robinson became a big leaguer, and in Canada Quebecois frustration with an English ruling elite provided a bang in the midst of the Quiet Revolution with the Maurice Richard riot at the Montreal Forum in 1955. These are only a small sampling of examples that reveal a larger truth. Sports are social events to most of us, either as participants in amateur athletics or as spectators to their professional kin. The medium of television has only increased the power of sports to be a shared experience among a disparate population. Thus, the political and social aspirations of people, on an individual and collective level, are consistently played out on sports fields and in arenas across this country. For this reason, the choice of Gill as flag-bearer is not an unfortunate mixing of politics and sport as David Bedford insists; it is instead the inevitable appearance of the politics of this country, manifesting themselves in the forum of athletics.

From a political standpoint, the issue of a separatist standard-bearer at the most nationalistic of sporting events is powerful symbolism. To his credit, even as the COC has failed to engage the politics of the issue, Gill himself has been honest and forthright. Admitting that he did vote for sovereignty, and still calling himself a proud Quebecer, Gill insists that bearing the Canadian flag will be one of his proudest athletic achievements. The COC has largely failed to support Gill in his bid to face up to the political significance of this honestly. The truth is that there is the potential for both sides of this debate to make considerable hay of this issue. For sovereigntists, it is impossible not to recognize that Gill carrying the Canadian flag is the result of his inability to carry his own. Were Canada or the International Olympic Committee to recognize Quebec for the nation that it is, then perhaps we would see Gill carry the national flag he feels the most attachment to. Since he cannot, however, the image of him carrying a Canadian flag will be a powerful symbol of the persistent failure of Canada to acknowledge its colonial roots.

For the COC, this could be a liberal coup. By openly allowing a separatist to carry the flag, they invite all Canadians of all political stripes to jump on the Olympic team’s bandwagon. Like Canadian government publications, so often decorated with smiling faces of a variety of ethnicities, age groups and abilities, this could be the ultimate symbol of the success of multiculturalism.

The accurate picture, though, is that it is both. And it is the ambiguity that characterizes Gill as the standard-bearer that should be the clearest political message to Canadians. While Canadian sportswriters hiss at the stealing of their symbol of nationalism, and as undoubtedly some sovereigntists deride Gill for accepting the flag, Canada’s fundamental flaws are laid bare. The Nigerian-born Daniel Igali is undoubtedly as deserving to carry the flag, and would himself reveal the diversity of Canada, but he would also be a perfect example of the success of the ‘Canadian vision.’ Gill, however, reveals the flaws that plague its foundation. Colonialism, conquest, but also a century and a half of relatively peaceful co-existence, mean that he illustrates what’s wrong with the ethos of multiculturalism and understated patriotism, a lesson that Canada can always stand to be reminded of when the Olympics roll around.