Wladyslaw Kozakiewicz, the Polish arm of honor
The Lenin Stadium was bubbling on July 30, 1980: 80,000 spectators attended the pole vault competition. This 27th Olympiad was marked by a boycott: some fifty countries of the Western bloc had chosen not to present athletes in Moscow to condemn the invasion of Afghanistan, launched the previous year by the USSR.
Poland, the “brother” country of the Soviet Union, has sent its athletes. Polish pole vaulter Wladyslaw Kozakiewicz is among the favorites. But the Moscow crowd boos him, annoyed. In the stadium, the spectators are all for Russian Konstantin Volkov. After clearing a bar at 5.65 meters, the latter has the gold medal within reach. Undeterred by the surrounding hubbub, Wladyslaw Kozakiewicz also takes the plunge – with an American-made pole. Amidst boos, he brilliantly clears 5.78 meters and wins the gold medal. Once he triumphantly lands on the mat, the tall blond takes revenge: he gives the Moscow crowd the finger. In the midst of the Cold War and while Poland was in turmoil (the Solidarity trade union movement was born in the Gdansk shipyards a month later), the coup became a symbol of the anti-communist struggle and Polish resistance.
Diplomatic crisis
The main person concerned denies any political gesture. It was simply a mockery triggered by the hostility of the public. “During the whole competition, the Russian fans in the stadium were whistling and jeering at us,” Wladyslaw Kozakiewicz told an American radio station in 2018. “They booed all the non-Soviet athletes and did everything they could to make us angry.” The middle finger quickly became a matter of state. The USSR ambassador to Poland requested the withdrawal of the gold medal for “insulting the Soviet people,” without success. In order to calm tensions, the Polish government brought up another reason: Kozakiewicz was the victim of a “muscle spasm.” The International Olympic Committee added a layer of bad faith by referring to a ritual victory gesture. Publicly, the matter ended there.
But for the pole vaulter, the troubles began. The rest of his career was thwarted by the communist power. Withdrawal of his passport, reduction of salary, disqualification from certain events… “The federation wanted me to train and stay in shape, but at the same time, I was not allowed to compete and I did not earn any money,” the Pole would later say, still on American radio. His career took a final turn a few years later. In 1985, the champion said goodbye to Poland and joined West Germany. Far from communist pressure, the athlete would become champion of the FRG. He would live without regret for the past, happy with the euphoria that his middle finger had brought to his compatriots.