Editor's note: Saverio Paolo Spera is an Italian qualified attorney-at-law. He holds an LL.M. in international business law from King’s College London. He is the co-founder of SP.IN Law, a Zurich based international sports law firm. Jacques Blondin is an Italian qualified attorney, who held different roles at FIFA, including Head of FIFA TMS and Head of FIFA Regulatory Enforcement. He is the co-founder of SP.IN Law. The Authors wish to disclaim that they have represented Ms. Nayoka Clunis before the Court of Arbitration for Sport in Lausanne in the context of the proceedings which led to the Award of 31 July 2024.

Every four years since more than a century,[1] a spectacular display of sportsmanship takes place over the course of a few weeks during the summer: the Olympic Games.[2]

         For thousands of athletes around the globe, the Olympic Games are “the pinnacle of success and the ultimate goal of athletic competition”.[3] In their quest to compete in the most important stage of their sport, they endure demanding and time-consuming efforts (often including considerable financial sacrifices). These endeavours occasionally lead to everlasting glory (the exploits of athletes of the calibre of Carl Lewis, or more recently, Usain Bolt[4] still resonate among sports’ observers), more often to a shorter gratification. Whether their gestures end up going down the sport’s history books or last the span of a few competitions, athletes are always the key actors of a magnificent event that continues to feed the imagination of generations of sports fans. 

And yet, situations may occur when athletes find themselves at the mercy of their respective federations in the selection process for the Olympic Games and, should the federations fail them (for whatever reason), face an insurmountable jurisdictional obstacle to have their voice heard by the only arbitral tribunal appointed to safeguard their rights in a swift and specialised manner: the Court of Arbitration for Sport (the “CAS”).[5]

This is the story of Nayoka Clunis, a Jamaican world class hammer throw athlete who had qualified for the Olympic Games of Paris 2024 and yet, due to no fault of her own, could not participate in the pinnacle of competitions in her sport. Though eligible in light of her world ranking, she was failed by her own federation[6] [AD1] [SPS2] and ultimately found herself in the unfortunate – but legally unescapable – vacuum whereby neither the CAS Ad Hoc Division in Paris nor the ‘regular’ CAS division in Lausanne had jurisdiction to entertain her claim.  

The aim of this paper is not to discuss whether Ms. Clunis would have had a chance to successfully prove her claims and compete in Paris had her case been heard on the merits, nor to debate about the appropriateness of a national federation’s selection process (also because Ms. Clunis never challenged it, having been eligible ‘from day one’).[7] Retracing the story of a sportswoman’s dramatic misfortune, this paper aims at providing an opportunity to reflect on how effective the safeguard of athletes’ rights in the context of the Olympic Games actually is. More...

Editor's note: Ella Limbach is currently completing her master’s degree in International Sport Development and Politics at the German Sport University Cologne. Her interests include human rights of athletes, labour rights in sport, the intersection of gender, human rights and sport and the working conditions in women’s football. Previously, she graduated from Utrecht University with a LL.M in Public International Law with a specialization in International Human Rights Law. This blog was written during Ella's internship at the Asser Institute where she conducted research for the H.E.R.O. project. The topic of this blog is also the subject of her master's thesis.

Women’s football has experienced exponential growth over the past decade, though the professionalization of the women’s game continues to face barriers that can be tied to the historical exclusion of women from football and insufficient investment on many levels. While attendance records have been broken and media coverage has increased, the rise in attention also highlighted the need for special accommodations for female footballers regarding health and safety at the workplace. Female footballers face gender specific circumstances which can have an impact on their health such as menstruation, anterior cruciate ligament (ACL) injuries and the impact of maternity. As the recent ILO Brief on ‘Professional athletes and the fundamental principles and rights at work' states “gender issues related to [occupational health and safety] risks are often neglected (p. 23).” While it could be argued that from a human rights point of view article 13(c) of the Convention on the Elimination of Discrimination of Women stipulates “the right to participate in […] sports [on an equal basis to men],” reality shows that so far practices of men’s football were simply applied to women’s football without taking into consideration the physiological differences between male and female players and the implications that can have for female players’ health. The ILO Declaration on Fundamental Principles and Rights at Work(ILO Declaration, amended in 2022) includes “a safe and healthy working environment” as one of the fundamental rights at work (Art. 2e). This begs the question whether the scope of the right to occupational health and safety at the workplace includes the consideration of female specific health issues in women’s football. More...

Editor's note: Nicholas McGeehan is co-director of human rights research and advocacy group FairSquare, which works among other things on the nexus between sport and authoritarianism. He is a former senior researcher at Human Rights Watch and holds a PhD in international law from the European University Institute in Florence.

Boycotts, divestments and sanctions are each controversial and contentious in their own right, but when combined under the right conditions, they have explosive potential. BBC football presenter Gary Lineker found this out to his cost when he retweeted a call from Palestine’s BDS movement to suspend Israel from FIFA and the International Olympic Committee (IOC)  until such time the Israeli state ends what they called “the crime of genocide it is perpetrating in Gaza” and its occupation of Palestinian territory. Lineker quickly deleted his retweet but not before the UK’s most popular right-wing tabloid newspaper, The Daily Mail, spotted it and renewed their fulminating campaign against Lineker’s support for political causes that run contrary to the Mail’s editorial positions. The Daily Mail does not oppose sporting boycotts, in fact judging from an article by its football columnist, Martin Samuel, it was an ardent supporter of Russia’s ejection from European football in the aftermath of its invasion of Ukraine. “Why should Russian football get to be part of the continent in which it has murdered innocents?,” asked Samuel  and in that regard he was not alone and was echoing views heard across the political divide in the west at the time. 

The west continues to boycott Russia, its companies have divested from Russia, and its governments are sanctioning Russia. This includes in the sporting arena where nobody batted an eyelid when Russian football teams were excluded from FIFA and UEFA competition, and its athletes excluded from IOC competition.  So it seems obvious that it  is not so much BDS tactics that offend people in certain quarters, but rather their target. Russia can be BDS’d until the cows come home, but BDS’ing Israel is beyond the pale. You can see how it might be hard to explain to a child.

Through an examination of the widely divergent responses to Russia’s actions in Ukraine and Israel’s actions in Gaza, this piece argues that FIFA and the IOC have aligned themselves with the political positions of the countries of the global north. With reference to previous sporting boycotts, it demonstrates how an absence of rules has left FIFA and the IOC sailing rudderless into stormy geopolitical waters and argues that they need to institute rules to guide their responses to events of this gravity and magnitude. Dispensing once and for all with the canard that sport and politics can be kept apart would enable sport’s governing bodies to appropriately leverage their political power and not merely act as puppets of the global north. More...

Editor's note: Robby Houben is a professor at the University of Antwerp, specializing in sports enterprise law and corporate law. He founded the University of Antwerp’s Football College, championing good governance in professional football. He is editor of the Research Handbook on the Law of Professional Football Clubs (Edward Elgar Publishing 2023). Siniša Petrović is a professor at the University of Zagreb, specializing in sports law and corporate law.

Mid-March, the YouTube channel The Overlap released an interview with Aleksander Čeferin, the current president of UEFA. Asked about the Super League’s court case against UEFA, Čeferin referred to it as ‘mainly symbolical’. This statement reveals a deep trust in the status quo. In this short note we assess if such trust is justified. On the basis of advocate general (AG) Szpunar’s recent opinion in a case on home grown player rules, we argue it is not. 

What is it about? On 9 March, AG Szpunar of the Court of Justice of the EU (‘CJEU’) delivered his opinion in the case of Royal Antwerp FC against the Royal Belgian Football Association (‘RBFA’) and the European Football Association UEFA. The case relates to the so-called ‘home grown players’ rule (‘HGP rule’). This rule requires clubs to include at least 8 locally trained players in the list of 25 players that make the A team. According to Szpunar, this likely amounts to an indirect nationality discrimination and, at least, to a restriction of the free movement rights of football players under Article 45 of the Treaty on the Functioning of the EU (‘TFEU’). Nevertheless, the AG considers the HGP rule valid as such, as, according to him, it serves the legitimate aims of stimulating the training of youth players and increasing the competitive balance between clubs. Only insofar as it allows that home grown players includes players trained by another club in the same league (under the UEFA HGP rule, 4 out of 8 home grown players), instead of by the club itself, the HGP rule is not suitable to achieve these aims. His recommendation to the court is, hence, to partially invalidate the HGP rule. He would likely find a (future) HGP rule requiring home grown players to be trained only at the club compatible with EU law. 

Is sport so special that it deserves special treatment? On the basis of Wouters and Meca-Medina it is widely accepted that restrictions of competition in sports can be justified if they proportionately pursue legitimate aims. Interestingly, in his assessment of the proportionality of the HGP rule, AG Szpunar seems to do Wouters away as a peculiar case. He finds ‘it difficult to deduce a general principle … according to which private entities bound by Article 45 TFEU would have a greater discretion than that of Member States in comparable situations’. Moreover, he argues, such greater discretion may be warranted in matters transcending classical economic policy, but the HGP rule has a strong economic component and is not such a matter (paras 76-78). As a result, Szpunar sees no reason ‘to afford UEFA and the RBFA a wider discretion than would be the norm for a Member State to justify a restriction of Article 45 TFEU’ (para 78). So, no specific exceptions for football that do not apply to other economic sectors! Wrong, because, at the same time, the AG allows to justify the HGP rule in view of legitimate aims, in this case youth development and competitive balance. Hence, while closing the back door for exceptional treatment of football in his assessment of proportionality, he opens the front door for such exceptional treatment as a matter of principle quite widely - without really underpinning why, nor providing evidence of why football is so special compared to let’s say universities or hospitals, who educate youngsters too, undoubtedly for the public good, and don’t enjoy such special treatment. 

But let’s assume sport is somehow special and deserves a special treatment. Does the HGP rule serve both the aim of youth development and increasing competitive balance? Probably not. It seems the aims are conflated here. Yes, the HGP rule serves the aim of encouraging the training of players (at professional football clubs that is), and arguably it makes sense to incentivize clubs to train players. But it is unlikely that this will contribute to more competitive balance between clubs. This has to do with the territorial model of football: ‘domestic’ competitions are organized along national borders. Clubs from larger countries logically have a larger talent pool to recruit young players from than clubs from smaller countries, and therefore they likely have a competitive advantage. Moreover, assuming the pool of talented young players is larger in bigger countries, it is likely that these youngsters will add sporting value to the A-team. That’s a win-win. In smaller countries, clubs will typically have a tougher job recruiting domestic top talent, simply because the pool is smaller. Adding to that is that the real top youngsters of smaller countries will probably sign their first professional player contract with a club of a top tier foreign competition, leaving only the ‘best of the rest’ for the local clubs. At the age of 16, the next Kevin De Bruyne will of course become a ‘club-trained’ local player somewhere, but not in a Belgian club. Cutting a long story short, from the perspective of fair competition, the HGP rule is not neutral and favors clubs that happen to reside in larger countries. 

Overboard with domestic borders then? That is what small Luxemburg club Swift Hespérange claims. Swift argues its free movement rights and free competition is infringed because it has to play football within the Luxembourg borders. As a result, it cannot grow and become competitive with clubs from surrounding leagues. Szpunar’s opinion provides food for thought for this case too, as he recognizes that the territorial model of football favors clubs in larger countries more than clubs in smaller countries (paras 68 and 70). His opinion therefore seems to accord with Swift’s intuition. 

How could a HGP rule become more neutral in a territorial model of football, with club football organized along domestic borders? Arguably, the rule could concentrate on the under 21 teams, and/or under 23 teams, where training actually takes place, allowing clubs to compose their A-teams with the best players, regardless of where they were trained. Talented club-trained young players will make their way to A-teams on the basis of merit. Clubs could be incentivized to field club-trained players in their A-team through increased solidarity payments from centralized earnings. Such an approach could serve both the aims of stimulating the training of players and increasing (or better: not deteriorating) the competitiveness of local clubs. 

Is this THE solution? We don’t know, and we don’t pretend to know. We raise it to illustrate a point: the importance of alternative systems to the HGP rule in the Antwerp case. AG Szpunar rightly asserts that the burden of proof to evidence that a rule is proportionate in view of legitimate aims, so that it can be upheld instead of invalidated, lies with the claimant of such exception, in the Antwerp case UEFA and the RBFA (para 61). Remarkably, the proportionality of the HGP rule is subsequently simply assumed. Moreover, alternatives brought forward by Antwerp, whereas the burden of proof lay with UEFA and the RBFA, were put aside as more restrictive, and considered not to be equally effective without much consideration (paras 79-81). Is it not more in line with logic that when the burden of proof falls upon a party, if it fails to discharge it then its claim is simply denied? More fundamentally, if rules are simply assumed to pursue legitimate objectives instead of evidenced to do so, is this not an open invitation for ‘sports washing’, the equivalent of green washing in sports? Of course, judges are not industry experts. As a result, we may not reasonably expect too much. Regulators must have leeway to make choices. But judges can and should perform oversight, assuring: i) rules are at least aiming for the target, ii) the regulator effectively considered alternatives, iii) there are good reasons for the regulator to prefer the chosen solution over another. If the questioned rule fails this test, it should be declared invalid – and the regulator should be sent back to the drawing board.[1]

So, AG Szpunar’s opinion is not perfect. Yet, it certainly puts the finger on the sore spot of football governance: double hatting and the inherent conflicts of interest that brings. In this respect, AG Szpunar’s opinion seems to provide counterweight to AG Rantos’ opinion in the European Super League (‘ESL’) case (see the subtill ‘in this respect’ in fn 39 of Szpunar’s opinion). In essence, AG Rantos argues that UEFA’s potential design errors are irrelevant, as the ESL, because of its (at the time) semi-closed set-up, should have been rejected anyway. He even asserts that open sport competitions are a constitutional principle of EU law, enshrined in Article 165 TFEU. This is a (too) far stretch, notably not repeated by AG Szpunar. Moreover, Szpunar makes UEFA’s governance deficit so much more explicit than Rantos. Because UEFA is both the regulator and monopolist of European club football, Szpunar considers that conflicts of interest are ‘bound to arise’ (in the French official version: ‘inévitable’; in Dutch: ‘onvermijdelijk’ – so: inevitable). Moreover, confronted with such conflict, he believes UEFA and domestic football regulators will have a natural reflex to let their own commercial interests prevail over the public interest (para 58). 

AG’s Szpunar’s opinion is authoritative, and probably even more than usual. Szpunar is first advocate general, and primus inter pares. His opinion will weigh in on the other football cases pending before the CJEU too, especially the ESL case and the aforementioned Swift case. As such, it could serve as a ‘canary in the coalmine’ for what is still to come later this year. Anyway, if the CJEU judges in the ESL case follow Szpunar’s assessment of UEFA’s double hatting, those who were celebrating the status quo after the Rantos opinion might be in for a scare soon.  

2023 is a year of truth for the organization of professional football. Dissatisfaction with the status quo has led to a record number of football related cases before the CJEU. These cases are heard separately, but at the same time inevitably interconnected, because they run in parallel on similar subject matters. Szpunar’s opinion makes at least clear that all cards are still on the table and the status quo might not prevail. 

Courts can only do what they are allowed to: apply the law in a given case. They can’t solve football’s governance deficit. Only politicians can ‘save football from itself’ by regulating it and by tackling policy failures exposed by professional football’s commercial explosion fueled primarily by clubs and players. Stakeholders such as clubs and players deserve a seat at the decision-making table in a governance model for pro football 2.0. For example, it is not acceptable any more for football regulators with no skin in the game to continue to congest match calendars (40 or so more matches in the 2026 World Cup !) without consulting clubs and players. Furthermore, the cleanest way to resolve conflicts of interest once and for all would be to separate UEFA’s functions - at least to ensure that adequate procedures are in place to avoid, mitigate and make transparent conflict of interests (in that order), and allowing access to public courts for judicial scrutiny. To be meaningful, such action should be taken at EU level, so as to create a level playing field for clubs across Europe and – because of the ‘Brussels’ effect – beyond.  

We are not naïve. There is no political appetite for reforming football yet. That was made clear during the ESL hearing early July 2022, where more than 20 Member States intervened in support of UEFA and the status quo. But, one, two or three critical decisions of the CJEU might inspire politicians to take action. That way, this wave of court cases may trigger a much more profound reform of the governance of the beautiful game.    

[1] In that sense AG Szpunar seems to go too far when in his answer to the court he suggests to invalidate the current HGP rule and already advises how the new rule should look – the latter is more a matter for the regulator.

Editor's note: Mark James is Professor of Sports Law at Manchester Metropolitan University and the author of a leading Sports Law textbook.

The opening days of the FIFA World Cup Qatar 2022 have already resulted in a number of issues of interest to sports lawyers and human rights lawyers, with FARE’s Piara Powar claiming that this is the most political major sporting event that he has attended. Both FIFA and the local organisers have been active in their suppression of expressions of support for LGBTQIA+ rights by players, fans and journalists alike, calling into question once again the legality of restricting free speech by sporting rules and regulations.

There have been two major flashpoints to date. First, seven European federations had asked FIFA for permission for their captains to wear armbands supporting the ‘OneLove’ campaign. FIFA’s response was to refuse, resulting in the German players covering their mouths for their pre-match photographs in protest at their being silenced. There are several grounds on which FIFA would seek to support its position:

•  Law 4.5 of the Laws of the Game prohibits any playing equipment from carrying any political, religious or personal slogans, statements or images.
• Regulation 4.3.1 of FIFA’s Equipment Regulations and Regulation 27.1 of the FIFA World Cup 2022 Regulations prohibits clothing or equipment that includes political, religious, or personal slogans, statements, or images, or otherwise does not comply in full with the Laws of the Game.
• Regulation 33.3 of the FIFA World Cup 2022 Regulations prohibits the display of political, religious or personal messages or slogans of any nature in any language or form by players and officials.
• Regulation 13.8.1 of FIFA’s Equipment Regulations states that for FIFA Final Competitions, the captain of each Team must wear the captain’s armband provided by FIFA (all Regulations available in the FIFA Legal Handbook 2022).

Although the DFB is considering a challenge to FIFA’s refusal to allow its captain to wear the OneLove armband, which would ultimately be heard before CAS, it is unlikely to succeed in the face of the strict requirements of the above Laws and Regulations. However, what could cause more difficulty for both FIFA and CAS is if the DFB frames its case as a challenge to the compliance of the rules that restrict players’ freedom of expression with Article 3 of FIFA’s Statutes, which states that ‘FIFA is committed to respecting all internationally recognised human rights.’ Article 3, together with the additional detail provided by FIFA’s Human Rights Policy, ensures that freedom of expression as defined in Article 19 of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights and Article 10 of the European Convention on Human Rights are limitative rules that can be applied directly to FIFA’s activities, as has been argued by Bützler and Schöddert. Further, if the affected players and associations can define themselves as human rights defenders, then Article 11 of FIFA’s Human Rights Policy states that, ‘FIFA will respect and not interfere with the work of … human rights defenders who voice concerns about adverse human rights impacts relating to FIFA.’ Any challenge using this approach would be the first real test of the enforceability of the human rights protections to which FIFA claims to be committed. It would also be a test of CAS’s ability to require adherence to the human rights commitments made by ISFs and to prove that they are more than simple window-dressing.

Secondly, members of The Rainbow Wall, a contingent of LGBTQIA+ rights-supporting Welsh fans, were prevented from entering the Ahmed bin Ali stadium whilst wearing bucket hats incorporating a rainbow into its design. No explanation for why was given, however, FIFA and the local organisers would argue that openly supporting LGBTQIA+ rights with the aim of promoting legal change in a country where homosexuality is illegal is a political statement on apparel and therefore entry into the stadium wearing the rainbow hat is in breach of the Regulation 3.1.23 of the Stadium Code of Conduct. A similar argument could be used to justify preventing US journalist Grant Wahl from entering the stadium wearing a t-shirt incorporating a rainbow into its design and Danish journalist Jon Pagh from wearing the OneLove armband. However, it must be stressed that no such explanation for the prohibitions applied to these garments was provided to any of the affected fans or journalists. It must also be recognised that the opinion that promoting LGBTQIA+ rights is a political expression is highly contested. In a statement from FIFPRO, the opposing view was stated succinctly: ‘We maintain that a rainbow flag is not a political statement but an endorsement of equality and thus a universal human right.’

It is clear that, as with Rule 50 of the Olympic Charter, the chilling effect that FIFA’s Regulations have on players’ and fans’ freedom of expression is likely to be unlawful, as has been discussed at length both on this blog and on the Verfassungsblog Debate on Freedom of Expression in the Olympic Movement. Instead of revisiting these arguments, which are taken to apply to FIFA’s actions at Qatar 2022, two additional issues related to the FIFA Statutes are explored here.

Articles 3 and 4 of FIFA’s Statutes state that:

3 Human rights

FIFA is committed to respecting all internationally recognised human rights and shall strive to promote the protection of these rights.

4 Non-discrimination, equality and neutrality

4.1 Discrimination of any kind against a country, private person or group of people on account of race, skin colour, ethnic, national or social origin, gender, disability, language, religion, political opinion or any other opinion, wealth, birth or any other status, sexual orientation or any other reason is strictly prohibited and punishable by suspension or expulsion.

FIFA is a long-time supporter of pride events and in its press release for Pride Month 2022 stated:

[The] FIFA World Cup Qatar 2022™ will be a celebration of unity and diversity – a joining of people from all walks of life – regardless of race, ethnicity, religion, age, disability, sex characteristics, sexual orientation, gender identity and expression – everybody will be welcome.

Claims that all staff involved in the Qatar 2022 including public and private security forces, would be trained on how to accomplish their tasks in a non-discriminatory manner, seem not to have been operationalised effectively.

This begs the question whether FIFA is in breach of its own Statutes by refusing to allow players to express themselves freely on armbands and failing to protect fans’ freedom of expression by wearing rainbows. At the very least, FIFA should have ensured that a protective LGBTQIA+ regime in the stadiums and the fan zones during the World Cup was implemented to enable the ‘celebration of unity and diversity’ it claims that Qatar 2022 should be. FIFA’s actions in Qatar call into question its claims to be an inclusive and supportive leader on anti-discrimination and human rights, and is likely to see a backlash from the LGBTQIA+ community that it claims to support when it engages with Pride 2023; accusations of hypocrisy and virtue signalling are guaranteed.

With no resolution to the debate at the time of writing, Articles 3 and 4 could provide players and fans with the opportunity to demonstrate their support for human rights and anti-discrimination causes. At the Sochi 2014 Winter Olympics, Athlete Ally developed the ‘Principle 6 Campaign.’ Instead of criticising directly Russia's so called anti-gay laws, which are currently in the process of being extended, athletes promoted Principle 6 of the Olympic Charter, which at the time stated that, ‘Any form of discrimination with regard to a country or a person on grounds of race, religion, politics, gender or otherwise is incompatible with belonging to the Olympic Movement.’ The eventual outcome of this campaign was the addition of sexual orientation to the list of characteristics protected by Principle 6. Unlike at Sochi 2014, there is no need to campaign for a change to either of Articles 3 or 4 of the FIFA Statutes; instead, activists want to ensure that they are being applied. An immediate response for both players and fans would be for them to quote specifically from Articles 3 and 4, as it would be extremely difficult for FIFA to claim that they are making political or personal statements when promoting FIFA’s own foundational values. A creative reminder of what FIFA claims to stand for could enable player and fan activism to continue throughout the tournament, and beyond, whilst affected players and associations can develop a compelling case for the restrictions on freedom of expression to be struck out by CAS, the Swiss Federal Tribunal and/or the European Court of Human Rights.

Editor's note:

Daniela is a researcher at the Asser Institute in the field of sport and human rights. She has a background in public international law and human rights law and defended her PhD project entitled “Blurred Lines of Responsibility and Accountability – Human Rights Abuses at Mega-Sporting Events” in April 2021 at Tilburg University. She also works as independent consultant in the field of sport and human rights for the Centre for Sport and Human Rights, or the European Parliament among other clients from the sports ecosystem

As Head of Policy and Outreach, Guido is in charge of the Centre for Sport & Human Rights engagement with governments, international and intergovernmental organisations and sports organisations. He represents the Centre at conferences, events and bilateral dialogues to reach new audiences and partners and raise public awareness and understanding of the Centre’s work .

On February 24, 2022, the Russian military invaded Ukrainian territory. What followed was an escalation of the war, day by day, causing thousands of victims and forcing millions of people to flee. On March 2, the UN General Assembly overwhelmingly adopted a resolution deploring "in the strongest possible terms" Russia's aggression against Ukraine by a vote of 141 to 5, with 35 abstentions. On March 29, Russian and Ukrainian representatives met in Istanbul for another round of negotiations. No ceasefire has been agreed and hostilities continue.

Many states, international organizations and corporations quickly took measures in response to this invasion. Hundreds of companies decided to withdraw from Russia. Some countries decided to strengthen economic sanctions against Russia and Belarus and to provide military and economic help to Ukraine. Many civil society actors mobilised to organize and provide humanitarian support for Ukraine. Interestingly, international sports organisations like the International Olympic Committee (IOC), the Fédération Internationale de Football Association (FIFA), World Athletics and many other international federations, issued statements condemning the invasion and imposed bans and sanctions on Russian and Belarussian sports bodies and athletes.

This blog post provides an overview of the measures adopted by a number of international sports federations (IFs) that are part of the Olympic Movement since the beginning of the war and analyses how they relate to the statements issued by the IOC and other sanctions and measures taken by international sports organisations in reaction to (geo)political tensions and conflict.

More...

Editor's note: Jeremy Abel is a recent graduate of the LL.M in International Business Law and Sports of the University of Lausanne.

1.     Introduction

The famous South African athlete Caster Semenya is in the last lap of her long legal battle for her right to run without changing the natural testosterone in her body. After losing her cases before the Court of Arbitration for Sport (CAS) and the Swiss Federal Tribunal, she filed an application before the European Court of Human Rights (Court). In the meantime, the Court has released a summary of her complaint and a series of questions addressed to the parties of the case.

As is well known, she is challenging the World Athletics’ Eligibility Regulations for the Female Classification (Regulations) defining the conditions under which female and intersex athletes with certain types of differences of sex development (DSDs) can compete in international athletics events. Despite the Regulations emanating from World Athletics, the last round of her legal battle is against a new opponent: Switzerland.

The purpose of this article is to revisit the Semenya case from a European Convention on Human Rights (ECHR) perspective while considering certain excellent points made by previous contributors (see here, here and here) to this blog. Therefore, the blog will follow the basic structure of an ECHR case. The following issues raised by Semenya shall be analysed: the applicability of the ECHR, Semenya’s right to private life (Article 8 ECHR) and to non discrimination (Article 14 ECHR), as well as the proportionality of the Regulations. More...

Editor's note: Rhys was an intern at the T.M.C. Asser Institute. He now advises on investments and Notre acquisitions in sport (mainly football) via Lovelle Street Advisory. Following a career as a professional athlete, Rhys has spent much of his professional life as an international sports agent, predominantly operating in football. Rhys has a Bachelor of Laws (LL.B) and a Bachelor of Philosophy (B.Phil.) from the University of Dame, Sydney, Australia. He is currently completing an LL.M at the University of Zurich in International Business Law / International Sports Law.

Having looked at the different types of investors in football in part one of this two-part blog series, “A non-exhaustive Typology”, it is fitting to now consider the regulations that apply to investors who seek to build a portfolio of football clubs.

One way to measure the momentum of a particular practice and how serious it ought to be taken, might be when that practice earns its own initialism. Multi-club ownership or MCO as it is increasingly known today, is the name given to those entities that have an ownership stake in multiple clubs. Within the little research and writing that has been undertaken on the topic, some authors submit that investors with minority stakes in multiple clubs ought not to be captured by the MCO definition.  This position appears problematic given some of the regulations draw the line at influence rather than stake.

There are now approximately 50 MCO’s across the football world that own approximately 150 clubs.^[1] Given the way MCO is trending, one might consider it important that the regulations keep up with the developing MCO practice, so as to ensure the integrity of football competitions, and to regulate any other potentially questionable benefit an MCO might derive that would be contrary to football’s best interests.

In this blog, I focus on the variety of ways (and levels at which) this practice is being regulated.  I will move through the football pyramid from member associations (MA’s) to FIFA, laying the foundations to support a proposition that FIFA and only FIFA is positioned to regulate MCO. More...

Editor's note: Rusa Agafonova is a PhD Candidate at the University of Zurich, Switzerland   

The Olympic Games are the cornerstone event of the Olympic Movement as a socio-cultural phenomenon as well as the engine of its economic model. Having worldwide exposure,[1] the Olympic Games guarantee the International Olympic Committee (IOC) exclusive nine-digit sponsorship deals. The revenue generated by the Games is later redistributed by the IOC down the sports pyramid to the International Federations (IFs), National Olympic Committees (NOCs) and other participants of the Olympic Movement through a so-called "solidarity mechanism". In other words, the Games constitute a vital source of financing for the Olympic Movement.

Because of the money involved, the IOC is protective when it comes to staging the Olympics. This is notably so with respect to ambush marketing which can have detrimental economic impact for sports governing bodies (SGBs) running mega-events. The IOC's definition of ambush marketing covers any intentional and non-intentional use of intellectual property associated with the Olympic Games as well as the misappropriation of images associated with them without authorisation from the IOC and the organising committee.[2] This definition is broad as are the IOC's anti-ambush rules.More...

Editor's note: Lindsay Brandon is Associate Attorney at Law Offices of Howard L. Jacobs

“Tell the white people of America and all over the world that if they don’t seem to care for the things black people do, they should not go to see black people perform.” – American sprinter and Olympic Medalist John Carlos

On 21 April 2021, the Athletes’ Commission (AC) of the International Olympic Committee (“IOC”) received the “full support of the IOC Executive Board for a set of recommendations in regard to the Rule 50 of the Olympic Charter and Athlete Expression at the Olympic Games.” This came over a year after the 2020 Tokyo Olympic Games were postponed due to the Covid-19 pandemic, and almost a year after the IOC and AC embarked on an “extensive qualitative and quantitative” consultation process to reform Rule 50 involving over 3,500 athletes from around the globe.

Since its introduction of the new guidelines in January 2020, Rule 50 has been touted by the IOC as a means to protect the neutrality of sport and the Olympic Games, stating that “No kind of demonstration or political, religious or radical propaganda is permitted in any Olympic sites, venues, or other areas.”  In other words, the Olympics are a time to celebrate sport, and any political act or demonstration might ruin their “moment of glory”.

In fact, the Rule 50 Guidelines say that a fundamental principle of sport is that it is neutral, and “must be separate from political, religious or any other type of interference.” But this separation is not necessarily rooted in totality in modern sports culture[1], particularly in the United States (“U.S.”).  This is evidenced by the United States Olympic and Paralympic Committee (“USOPC”) committing to not sanctioning Team USA athletes for protesting at the Olympics. The USOPC Athletes stated “Prohibiting athletes to freely express their views during the Games, particularly those from historically underrepresented and minoritized groups, contributes to the dehumanization of athletes that is at odds with key Olympic and Paralympic values.” More...

Editor's note: This report compiles all relevant news, events and materials on International and European Sports Law based on the daily coverage provided on our twitter feed @Sportslaw_asser. You are invited to complete this survey via the comments section below, feel free to add links to important cases, documents and articles we might have overlooked. More...

Editor's note: This blog is part of a special blog series on the Russian doping scandal at the CAS. Last year I analysed the numerous decisions rendered by the CAS ad hoc Division in Rio and earlier this year I reviewed the CAS award in the IAAF case.

Unlike the International Association of Athletics Federations (IAAF), the International Paralympic Committee (IPC) was very much unaffected by the Russian doping scandal until the publication of the first McLaren report in July 2016. The report highlighted that Russia’s doping scheme was way more comprehensive than what was previously thought. It extended beyond athletics to other disciplines, including Paralympic sports. Furthermore, unlike the International Olympic Committee (IOC) the IPC had a bit more time to deal with the matter, as the Rio Paralympic Games were due to start “only” in September.

After the release of the McLaren Report, the IPC president Sir Philip Craven was “truly shocked, appalled and deeply saddened at the extent of the state sponsored doping programme implemented in Russia”. He immediately announced the IPC’s intention to review the report’s findings and to act strongly upon them. Shortly thereafter, on 22 July, the IPC decided to open suspension proceedings against the National Paralympic Committee of Russia (NPC Russia) in light of its apparent inability to fulfil its IPC membership responsibilities and obligations. In particular, due to “the prevailing doping culture endemic within Russian sport, at the very highest levels, NPC Russia appears unable or unwilling to ensure compliance with and the enforcement of the IPC’s Anti-Doping Code within its own national jurisdiction”. A few weeks later, on 7 August, the IPC Governing Board decided to suspend the Russian Paralympic Committee with immediate effect “due to its inability to fulfil its IPC membership responsibilities and obligations, in particular its obligation to comply with the IPC Anti-Doping Code and the World Anti-Doping Code (to which it is also a signatory)”. Indeed, these “obligations are a fundamental constitutional requirement for all National Paralympic Committees (NPCs), and are vital to the IPC’s ability to ensure fair competition and to provide a level playing field for all Para athletes around the world”. Consequently, the Russian Paralympic Committee lost all rights and privileges of IPC membership. Specifically, it was not entitled to enter athletes in competitions sanctioned by the IPC, and/or to participate in IPC activities. Thus, “the Russian Paralympic Committee will not be able to enter its athletes in the Rio 2016 Paralympic Games”. More...

Since the release of the earth-shattering ARD documentary two years ago, the athletics world has been in a permanent turmoil. The International Athletics Association Federation (IAAF) is faced with both a never-ending corruption scandal (playing out in front of the French police authorities) and the related systematic doping of Russian athletes. The situation escalated in different phases led by the revelations of Russian insiders. First, in December 2014 with the ARD documentary, which demonstrated how widespread (and organized) the recourse to doping was in Russian athletics. It triggered the Pound investigation financed by the World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA), which led to two damaging reports (available here and here) for the Russian anti-doping system and the IAAF itself. Thereafter, in November 2015, the IAAF had no other choice but to provisionally suspend the Russian athletics federation (ARAF then RusAF) and its members from IAAF competitions. Yet, this was only the beginning as shortly after the former head of Moscow’s anti-doping laboratory provided a detailed sketch to the New York Times of the operation of a general state-led doping scheme in Russia. The system was designed to avert any positive doping tests for top-level Russian sportspeople and was going way beyond athletics. These allegations were later largely confirmed and reinforced by the McLaren investigation initiated by WADA in May 2016, and which published its first report in July 2016 shortly before the Rio Olympics. In June 2016, the IAAF anticipated the conclusions of the report (it had received most of McLaren’s evidence beforehand) and decided to maintain the ineligibility of Russian athletes for IAAF competitions, and for the Rio Olympics. It did, however, foresee a narrow exception for Russian athletes able to show that they were properly tested outside of Russia. Nonetheless, the athletes using this exception were to compete under a neutral flag at the Olympics. Unsurprisingly, Russian athletes led by pole superstar (and now IOC member), Yelena Isinbayeva, and the Russian Olympic Committee decided to challenge this decision in front of the Court of Arbitration for Sport (CAS). Interestingly, while the decision was rendered on 21 July 2016, the full text of the award was publically released only on 10 October 2016. In September, I analysed the Rio CAS Ad Hoc Decisions involving Russian athletes aiming to participate to the Olympics. I will now turn to the IAAF decision, which is of great importance to the future of the anti-doping system. Indeed, it lays out the fundamental legal boundaries of the capacity of international federations to impose sanctions on their members (and their members) in order to support the world anti-doping fight. More...

“One day Alice came to a fork in the road and saw a Cheshire cat in a tree. ‘Which road do I take?’ she asked. ‘Where do you want to go?’ was his response. ‘I don’t know,’ Alice answered. ‘Then,’ said the cat, ‘it doesn’t matter.”

Tomorrow the Foundation Board of the World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA) will gather in Glasgow for its most important meeting since the creation of the Agency. Since the broadcasting of a documentary alleging systematic doping in Russian athletics by the German public broadcaster in December 2014, the anti-doping world has been in disarray. The various independent investigations (the Pound Report and the McLaren Report) ordered by WADA into doping allegations against Russian athletes have confirmed the findings of the documentary and the truth of the accusations brought forward by Russian whistle-blowers. Undeniably, there is something very rotten in the world anti-doping system. The current system failed to register a widespread, and apparently relatively open, state-sponsored scheme aimed at manipulating any doping test conducted in Russian territory. Moreover, it was not WADA that uncovered it, but an independent journalist supported by courageous whistle-blowers. More...

Editor's note: This is the (belated) fifth part/act of our blog series on the Russian eligibility cases at the CAS ad hoc Division in Rio. The other acts are available at:

• Act I: Saved by the Osaka Déjà-Vu
• Act II: On being implicated 
• Act III: On being sufficiently tested
• Act IV: On Bringing a sport into disrepute

Act V: Saving the last (Russian) woman standing: The Klishina miracle 

Darya Klishina is now an Olympic celebrity. She will enter the history books not because she won a gold medal or beat a world record. Instead, her idiosyncrasy lies in her nationality: she was the sole Russian athlete authorized to stand in the athletics competitions at the Rio Olympics. And yet, a few days before the start of the long jumping contest in which she was due to take part, the IAAF surprisingly decided to revoke her eligibility (‘And Then There Were None’). But Klishina appealed the decision to the CAS ad hoc Division and, as all of you well-informed sports lawyers will know, she was allowed to compete at the Olympics and finished at a decent ninth place of the long jump finals.

Two important questions are raised by this case:

• Why did the IAAF changed its mind and decide to retract Klishina’s authorization to participate?
• Why did the CAS overturn this decision? More...

Editor's note: This is the fourth part/act of our blog series on the Russian eligibility cases at the CAS ad hoc Division in Rio.

• Act I: Saved by the Osaka Déjà-Vu
• Act II: On being implicated 
• Act III: On being sufficiently tested

Act IV: On Bringing a sport into disrepute

Paragraph 2 of the IOC Decision: “The IFs will also have to apply their respective rules in relation to the sanctioning of entire NFs.” 

In paragraph 2 of its Decision, the IOC mentioned the possibility for IFs to “apply their respective rules in relation to the sanctioning of entire NF's”.This is exactly what the International Weightlifting Federation (IWF) did when it decided on 29 July 2016 to exclude the whole Russian Weightlifting Federation (RWF) from the Rio Olympics for having brought the sport into disrepute. Indeed, Article 12. 4 of the IWF Anti-doping Policy, foresees that:

“If any Member federation or members or officials thereof, by reason of conduct connected with or associated with doping or anti-doping rule violations, brings the sport of weightlifting into disrepute, the IWF Executive Board may, in its discretion, take such action as it deems fit to protect the reputation and integrity of the sport.”More...

Editor's note: This is the third part/act of our blog series on the Russian eligibility cases at the CAS ad hoc Division in Rio.

• Act I: Saved by the Osaka Déjà-Vu
• Act II: On being implicated 

Act III: On being sufficiently tested 

Paragraph 2 of the IOC Decision: “The IFs should carry out an individual analysis of each athlete’s anti-doping record, taking into account only reliable adequate international tests, and the specificities of the athlete’s sport and its rules, in order to ensure a level playing field.”

Daniil Andienko and 16 other members of the Russian rowing team challenged the decision of the World Rowing Federation (FISA) to declare them ineligible for the Rio Olympics. The FISA Executive Committee took the decision on 24 July 2016 because they had not “undergone a minimum of three anti-doping tests analysed by a WADA accredited laboratory other than the Moscow laboratory and registered in ADAMS from 1 January 2015 for an 18 month period”.[1] In their submissions, the Russian applicants did not challenge the IOC Decision, and thus the criteria enshrined in paragraph 2, but only its application by FISA.[2] The Russian athletes argued that FISA’s decision deviated from the IOC Decision in that it was imposing as an additional requirement that rowers must “have undergone a minimum of three anti-doping tests analysed by a WADA accredited laboratory other than the Moscow laboratory and registered in ADAMS from 1 January 2015 for an 18-month period”.[3] The Panel acknowledged that “the IOC Executive Board decision does not refer explicitly to the requirement of three tests or to a period of 18 months”.[4] Nonetheless, it “finds that the Challenged Decision is in line with the criteria established by the IOC Executive Board decision”.[5] Indeed, the IOC’s Decision “provides that in order to examine whether the level playing field is affected or not (when admitting a Russian athlete to the Rio Olympic Games), the federation must look at the athlete's respective anti-doping record, i.e. examine the athlete's anti-doping tests” and that “[i]n doing so, the IOC Executive Board decision specifies that only "reliable adequate international tests" may be taken into account”.[6] In this regard, the Panel, and FISA, share the view that “a reliable adequate international test can only be assumed if the sample has been analyzed in a WADA-accredited laboratory outside Russia”.[7]More...

Editor's note: This is the second part/act of our blog series on the Russian eligibility cases at the CAS ad hoc Division in Rio.

• Act I: Saved by the Osaka Déjà-Vu

Act II: On being implicated

Paragraph 2 of the IOC Decision: “The IFs to examine the information contained in the IP Report, and for such purpose seek from WADA the names of athletes and National Federations (NFs) implicated. Nobody implicated, be it an athlete, an official, or an NF, may be accepted for entry or accreditation for the Olympic Games.”

The second, and by far largest, wave of complaints involved Russian athletes barred from the game under paragraph 2 of the IOC Decision. None of those were successful in their appeals as the CAS sided with those IFs which took a tough stance with regard to the Russian State doping system. The first set of cases turned on the definition of the word “implicated” in the sense of paragraph 2 of the IOC Decision. In this regard, on 2 August the IOC sent a communication to the IFs aiming at providing some general guidelines. It reads as follows:

"In view of the recent appeals filed by Russian Athletes with CAS, the IOC considers it necessary to clarify the meaning of the notion "implicated" in the EB Decision.

The IOC does not consider that each athlete referred to in the McLaren Lists shall be considered per se "implicated. It is for each International federation to assess, on the basis of the information provided in the McLaren lists and the Independent Person Report, whether it is satisfied that the Athlete in question was implicated in the Russian State-controlled doping scheme.

To assist the International Federations in assessing each individual case, the IOC wishes to provide some information. In the IOC's opinion, an athlete should not be considered as "implicated" where:

·       The order was a "quarantine".

·       The McLaren List does not refer to a prohibited substance which would 
have given rise to an anti-doping rule violation or;

·       The McLaren List does not refer to any prohibited substance with respect 
to a given sample."

The CAS went on to address this question concretely in three cases analysed below. More...

Since it was first introduced at the Atlanta Games in 1996,[1] the CAS ad hoc Division has never been as crowded as it was during this year’s Rio Olympics. This is mainly due to the Russian doping scandal, which has fuelled the CAS with Russian athletes challenging their ineligibility to compete at the Games. The CAS recently revealed that out of 28 awards rendered, 16 involved Russian athletes challenging their ineligibility. This Russian ballet is a direct result of the shocking findings of Richard McLaren’s Independent Person (IP) Report ordered by the World Anti-Doping Agency (WADA). McLaren’s investigation demonstrated that the Russian State was coordinating a sophisticated doping system. The revelation triggered an outrage in the media and amongst other competitors. Numerous calls (especially by WADA and various National Anti-Doping Organisations) were heard urging the IOC to ban the entire Russian delegation from the Olympics. The IAAF decided to exclude the whole Russian athletics team, [2] with the exception of Darya Klishina, but, to the disappointment of many, the IOC refused to heed these calls and decided, instead, to put in place a specific procedure to assess on a case-by-case basis the eligibility of Russian athletes.

The IOC’s Decision (IOC Decision) of 24 July foresees that the International Federations (IFs) are competent to determine whether each Russian athlete put forward by the Russian Olympic Committee (ROC) to participate in the Olympics meets a specific set of conditions. Moreover, the ROC was also barred from entering athletes who were sanctioned for doping in the past, even if they have already served their doping sanction. In the end, a majority of the Russian athletes (278 out of 389 submitted by the ROC) cleared the IOC’s bar relatively easily, but some of them did not, and many of the latter ended up fighting for their right to compete at the Rio Olympics before the CAS ad hoc Division.[3] In the following blogs, I will analyse the ten published CAS awards related to Russian athletes.[4] It is these legal fights that I suggest to chronicle in the following parts of this blog. To do so, I have divided them in five different (and analytically coherent) Acts:

• Act I: Saved by the Osaka déjà-vu
• Act II: On being implicated
• Act III: On being sufficiently tested
• Act IV: On bringing a sport into disrepute
• Act V: Saving the Last (Russian) Woman Standing More...

Editor’s note: Guido graduated cum laude from the Vrije Universiteit Amsterdam. He teaches law at the Erasmus Universiteit Rotterdam. He specializes in sports law and provides legal advice for the professional sports sector.

Introduction

This blog is a commentary on a recent case that hit like a bombshell in the Netherlands (and beyond) during the recent Olympic Games in Rio. The case concerns a Dutch athlete, Yuri van Gelder, who reached the Olympic finals in his sport, got sent home by ‘his’ NOC (NOC*NSF) after a night out in Rio and launched legal proceedings in front of a Dutch court to claim back his place in the finals. This commentary will attempt to explain the Dutch ruling and evaluate whether a different legal route would have been possible and preferable. More...