“I am a peaceful warrior”
His track record is impressive: world record in swimming, three-time European champion in wheelchair basketball, European champion in wheelchair rugby, Ryadh Sallem has participated in the Paralympic Games seven times. An exceptional athlete, he created one of the largest European disabled sports clubs and is teeming with projects.
You who know the Paralympic Games so well, what do you expect from this 2024 edition?
Many things. A beautiful medal of course. It is the essence of all my sporting commitment, and I was very happy to see, during the Olympic Games, how generous, joyful, festive, enthusiastic, and passionate the French people were. I also hope that France will discover disability from a different angle, because even if mentalities have changed enormously, behaviors are not yet there. We still do not really understand that Paralympic athletes are high-level athletes before being disabled. And then, I would like politicians, when they are concerned about the world of tomorrow, to think of the most vulnerable and not just the healthy or important people.
You were born in Tunisia, without legs and with only one hand, which was atrophied. How did sport come into your life?
I am what is called a thalidomide child, this drug that was given to pregnant women and that caused serious birth defects in more than 10,000 babies worldwide. My grandfather, a French veteran, told my parents: “If you want to save your child, you have to send him to the other side of the Mediterranean.” So at the age of 2, I left my family and lived for sixteen years in the functional rehabilitation center of Saint-Fargeau-Ponthierry (Seine-et-Marne). I also spent long stays in the hospital. The educators had found a solution to calm my anger: to take me up in sports. I dreamed of playing basketball, but the wheelchair was too expensive. On the other hand, I could afford a swimsuit. Swimming allowed me to leave the hospital.
Is that what saved you?
I only realized this later. I was not at all a competitor. I had the soul of an artist, my head in the stars. Spotted at 17 by the Cercle sportif des Invalides, I joined the swimming team, then, a year later, the national team. I caught the high-level sport bug when I started participating in international competitions and winning medals. The 1992 Games in Barcelona were a revelation. When I realized that Olympism could contribute to calming people, experiencing this “peaceful world war” filled me with joy.
You are nicknamed “the peaceful warrior” for your fearsome wheelchair rugby slaloms. Do you identify with this expression?
Yes. My life is a struggle. I had to take it upon myself to overcome the disability, which I initially experienced as an injustice. Sport allowed me to be at peace with my body. The repeated operations and rehabilitation are imposed pain, and when I started playing sport, I was in even more pain, but I also enjoyed it a lot. I integrated this pain, I accepted it, it had meaning for me. And then, my name is Sallem, which means “peace fighter” in Arabic. When you have that name, you are connected to a sort of destiny.
Which?
I don’t really know, because I have this feeling of not having accomplished my mission yet. When I see what is happening in the world, I would like to contribute to bringing a little peace and joy, like Miss France, even if it is not going to be easy (laughs). To do this, you must first be in harmony with yourself.
Does competitive sport help to overcome disability?
It has this form of cruelty that highlights strengths and weaknesses. Mother Nature does not equip us all in the same way. Some have more intellectual facility, others more athletic dispositions. Then, it is work that makes the difference. We all have the power to transcend ourselves. And sport allows us to experience this capacity to push our limits.
Are you accompanied by a mental trainer, like able-bodied Olympic athletes?
No. I was lucky to be surrounded by caring people who gave me self-confidence and I believed in them. When mental coaches arrived in the 2000s, I didn’t know how to position myself. At the first session, I fell asleep (laughs). I prefer to be in action
Wheelchair rugby is a very physical discipline. During matches, athletes collide with each other. Does it hurt?
We are gladiators. The chairs don’t hurt, they crash into each other like bumper cars. But some falls can hurt. I’ve lost teeth, I’ve had dislocations, displaced ribs, crushed fingers. It’s still rare.
In 1995, you created the association Cap Saaa (Cap Sport art adventure friendship), which promotes a positive vision of disability. Has the objective been achieved?
Better than that! Cap Saaa is one of the largest disability sports clubs in Europe! At the beginning, we were a group of friends in wheelchairs. We wanted to do reverse inclusion, that is, to bring ordinary people into the “extraordinary” world of disabled people. We invited them to come and sit on armchairs to play with us. And when we play together, we can live together. Today, we use disability as a tool for prevention and awareness-raising in schools and businesses, and even in prisons.
In the title of Cap Saaa, there are the words “art, adventure…” Do you dabble in everything?
When we founded the association, we had to be specialists in a niche. We mixed genres. Talent has a great advantage: it does not know disability. For sixteen years, we organized the Défistival around the Champ-de-Mars in Paris, a celebration of diversity and diversity, which brought together 10,000 people each year. Its slogan was: “Come with your differences, leave with your similarities.” The ladies of the Order of Malta rubbed shoulders with junkies, the anti-nuclear activists with the heads of the EDF Foundation. It was exciting, this mix. What forms our noblest identity is our humanity. The word “adventure” of Cap Saaa refers to our humanitarian missions for Handicap International and Hospital Without Borders. We sent medical equipment to Africa, Latin America, etc. During Covid, we also distributed meals to the most deprived in France.
Is this inner force that drives you also of a spiritual nature?
Yes, it is a plural spirituality. I was born into a Muslim family, I grew up in the Catholic culture, I have friends of Jewish faith, others who are Buddhist or atheist. I am a mixture of all that. Those who see in their faith a way to contribute to peace, to a more just society are close to me. Everything that is human is ours, recalls the motto of the Secours populaire.
You give the impression of being a free man, without limits. What is your next bet?
There are so many! I am leading, with a real estate developer and the town hall of Pantin (Seine-Saint-Denis), the Universal City project, which was really designed around the notion of universal accessibility. This 33,000 m2 building should be built in 2027; it will be part of the legacy of the Paris Games. There is also our Educap City program on citizenship, which has trained 50,000 children since 2016, by combining sporting events and awareness-raising workshops on living together. I would like this Tour de France to go beyond our borders and develop around the world. That’s a lot of projects for a bunch of crazy people on wheels, right?
How did you become a one-handed basketball champion?
In the center where I lived, we were offered an outing every year. It was on this occasion that I discovered the jugglers of the Cirque d’hiver. Seeing that they were holding plates on the tip of their noses, bottles on their elbows, balloons on their buttocks, I told myself that I might get away with a ball and a stump. I developed great dexterity, which convinced the French basketball team to take me.