Alan Hubbard

By all accounts Azerbaijan is doing a magnificent job with the inaugural European Games, which are brilliantly orchestrated and staged in enviable splendour. But an ominous black cloud hovers over this sunniest of events.

Banning one a British newspaper and apparently several other international media outlets from covering the Games because of their reporting of alleged suppression of human rights in the emerging oil-rich state on the shores of the Caspian Sea really is, in my view, an own goal.

Bad move, Baku.

It leaves a blemish on what otherwise should be a joyous celebration of a new era for sport; a PR blunder both for Azerbaijan and the European Olympic Committees and its Irish chairman Patrick Hickey, who dreamed up the idea of Europe's very own "Olympics" and got the ambitious Azerbaijani Government to bankroll them.

Banning journalists from doing their job - and The Guardian’s chief sports correspondent Owen Gibson is among the best regarded in the business - is both unwise and unwelcome in times when, as we have seen with FIFA and recent allegations of drugs use at the highest level, access and transparency are paramount.

I am surprised that Azerbaijan did not think this through and recall that this was not a tactic employed by either China or Russia in their respective Olympics despite shoals of criticism over human rights far more excessive than anything shovelled in the direction of President Ilham Aliyev’s regime.

Human rights issues have somewhat overshadowed the opening days of the European Games ©Getty Images
Human rights issues have somewhat overshadowed the opening days of the European Games ©Getty Images

Moreover it could prove doubly counter-productive as it will be remembered should Azerbaijan bid for more major international events, not least the Olympic Games, said to be in their sights.

It could well count against them because the International Olympic Committee (IOC) and other international sports authorities will be mindful of not wanting a recurrence.

The buzz is the IOC are not best pleased with Azerbaijan’s arbitrary action. Had a similar ban be applied before an Olympics the host nation would be sharply reminded it would be in breach of the Olympic Charter.

Which is why I am surprised that Hickey, an IOC member, has not been more assertive in getting the ban lifted because of it Olympic overtones. Instead he simply expressed "concern" while adding:”We have taken it up again...but it appears they are not getting in. We cannot enforce it. We have no right.”

I am not sure this is strictly true. Because these are the EOC’s Games, not  Azerbaijan’s. Just as the Olympics, wherever they are held, are the property of  the IOC.

Equally counter-productive is the unfavourable publicity generated for an event that needed to be seen in a beneficial light. Because of the ban so much reporting, both here in Britain and elsewhere in Europe, has been not only low key, but negative. Pity.

I have never been to Azerbaijan - and after writing this I suppose it is conceivable I may never be allowed go - so I pass no judgement on their human rights record.

But let me recount my own experiences in reporting from nations whose records on human right were arguably considerably worse than Azerbaijan’s are now said to be.

First South Africa. I went there twice during the wretched days of Apartheid and was never denied entry despite penning several hostile attacks on that rotten regime.

Covering sport in South Africa in the Apartheid era was another controversial area for journalists ©Getty Images
Covering sport in South Africa in the Apartheid era was another controversial area for journalists ©Getty Images

I was allowed to go into the townships and interview black sports leaders, several of whom expressed their hatred of the system, which I duly reported without restriction.

I do suspect my movements were closely monitored and on one occasion returned to my hotel to discover several burly Afrikaaner cops rummaging through my belongings.

When I enquired what the hell was going on I was lamely told they were "tourist police" and were there to re-rate the rooms. But I later found that my contacts book had vanished and despite complaining to their Sports Minister, I haven’t seen it since.

Then before the Beijing Olympics I, among several other British journalists, wrote scathingly about whether China should be allowed to host the Games because of their appalling human rights situation and persecution  in Tibet. I was not banned - in fact they invited me to run a leg of their Torch Relay!

Similarly, in 1980, we had been warned by the British Government that it would be all bad in Moscow. Actually it wasn’t. Margaret Thatcher had ordered Britain to stay away over the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan but Sebastian Coe was among those whom defied the Iron Lady who was later to become his political mistress. Just as well, as he collected the first of his two 1500m gold medals in that Chariots of Fire duel within bitter rival Steve Ovett having lost out in his specialist 800m.

I was then working as sports editor for a British magazine called Now! owned by Sir James Goldsmith, a right wing zealot whose political idelology I certainly did not share.

The magazine’s’ pre-Olympics issue depicted on its cover the five Olympic rings being set ablaze by Soviet flame-throwers under the headline: "Destruction Of A Great Ideal".

Despite this the journal’s accreditation was approved and I was dispatched to cover the Games. My own contribution to the preview edition had been an interview with Coe but when they searched my baggage at Sheremetyevo airport, my copy of the magazine was confiscated as "bourgeois propaganda".

The Moscow Olympics was another instance where political factors somewhat overshadowed the sporting performances of the likes of Seb Coe and Steve Ovett ©Getty Images
The Moscow Olympics was another instance where political factors somewhat overshadowed the sporting performances of the likes of Seb Coe and Steve Ovett ©Getty Images

As it it was an obligation that journalists should have access to any material required for their work when covering the Games, I made a formal protest to the IOC.

Next day I was summoned to a windowless room in the Kremlin where the magazine was handed back to me with a curt nod by a grim-faced, grey-suited apparatchik who grunted obliquely: ”I think we understand each other.”

I should mention that while in Moscow I was not prevented before the Games began from carrying out the request of my editor to contact and interview several Russian dissidents who were holed up at the US Embassy, and subsequently filed the story which did not shown Russia in a particularly good light.

However, later back at my hotel I found I had been upgraded to a very comfortable suite, spacious enough to hold a farewell party on the last day of the Games. As Georgian champagne popped a colleague suggested that the room might be bugged. Jokingly we raised our glasses and said: “To all our listeners - Cheers!”

A few seconds later the phone rang and a Russian voice chuckled: ”And cheers to you too, tovarich!

Who says the Russians don’t have a sense of humour!

What a shame the Azerbaijanis don’t have a greater sense - not in this case of humour - but of rationality to enhance not only their own reputation but that of an event whose future seems uncertain.