Editor’s note: Thomas Terraz is a fourth year LL.B. candidate at the International and European Law programme at The Hague University of Applied Sciences with a specialisation in European Law. Currently he is pursuing an internship at the T.M.C. Asser Institute with a focus on International and European Sports Law.

Since its inception, the Olympic Movement, and in particular the IOC, has tirelessly endeavored to create a clean bubble around sport events, protecting its hallowed grounds from any perceived impurities. Some of these perceived ‘contaminants’ have eventually been accepted as a necessary part of sport over time (e.g. professionalism in sport),[1] while others are still strictly shunned (e.g. political protest and manifestations) and new ones have gained importance over the years (e.g. protection of intellectual property rights). The IOC has adopted a variety of legal mechanisms and measures to defend this sanitized space.  For instance, the IOC has led massive efforts to protect its and its partners’ intellectual property rights through campaigns against ambush marketing (e.g. ‘clean venues’ and minimizing the athletes’ ability to represent their personal sponsors[2]). Nowadays, the idea of the clean bubble is further reinforced through the colossal security operations created to protect the Olympic sites.

Nevertheless, politics, and in particular political protest, has long been regarded as one of the greatest threats to this sanitized space. More recently, politics has resurfaced in the context of the IOC Athletes’ Commission Rule 50 Guidelines. Although Rule 50 is nothing new, the Guidelines stirred considerable criticism, to which Richard Pound personally responded, arguing that Rule 50 is a rule encouraging ‘mutual respect’ through ‘restraint’ with the aim of using sport ‘to bring people together’.[3] In this regard, the Olympic Charter aims to avoid ‘vengeance, especially misguided vengeance’. These statements seem to endorse a view that one’s expression of their political beliefs at the Games is something that will inherently divide people and damage ‘mutual respect’. Thus, the question naturally arises: can the world only get along if ‘politics, religion, race and sexual orientation are set aside’?[4] Should one’s politics, personal belief and identity be considered so unholy that they must be left at the doorstep of the Games in the name of depoliticization and of the protection of the Games’ sanitized bubble? Moreover, is it even possible to separate politics and sport?  

Even Richard Pound would likely agree that politics and sport are at least to a certain degree bound to be intermingled.[5] However, numerous commentators have gone further and expressed their skepticism to the view that athletes should be limited in their freedom of expression during the Games (see here, here and here). Overall, the arguments made by these commentators have pointed out the hypocrisy that while the Games are bathed in politics, athletes – though without their labor there would be no Games – are severely restrained in expressing their own political beliefs. Additionally, they often bring attention to how some of the most iconic moments in the Games history are those where athletes took a stand on a political issue, often stirring significant controversy at the time. Nevertheless, what has not been fully explored is the relationship between the Olympic Games and politics in terms of the divide between the ideals of international unity enshrined in the Olympic Charter and on the other hand the de facto embrace of country versus country competition in the Olympic Games. While the Olympic Charter frames the Games as ‘competitions between athletes in individual or team events and not between countries’, the reality is far from this ideal.[6] Sport nationalism in this context can be considered as a form of politics because a country’s opportunity to host and perform well at the Games is frequently used to validate its global prowess and stature.

To explore this issue, this first blog will first take a historical approach by investigating the origins of political neutrality in sport followed by an examination of the clash between the ideal of political neutrality and the reality that politics permeate many facets of the Olympic Games. It will be argued that overall there has been a failure to separate politics and the Games but that this failure was inevitable and should not be automatically viewed negatively. The second blog will then dive into the Olympic Charter’s legal mechanisms that attempt to enforce political neutrality and minimize sport nationalism, which also is a form of politics. It will attempt to compare and contrast the IOC’s approach to political expression when exercised by the athletes with its treatment of widespread sport nationalism.

1.     Constructing the Political Neutrality of the Olympics

The roots of political neutrality in many ways can be traced back to the Olympic Truce, a tradition that started in Ancient Greece.[7] The idea of creating a temporal space where nations are at peace is in a way an attempt to separate Games from the political squabbles of the world, and this tradition has continued to the modern day.  Pierre de Coubertin envisioned a space ‘to bring the youth of all countries periodically together for amicable trials of muscular strength and agility’.[8] In accomplishing this goal, the Olympic Movement  applies a principle of political neutrality,[9] which includes that the IOC must ‘promote its political neutrality’,[10] ‘oppose any political or commercial abuse of sport and athletes’,[11] requires new members of the IOC to ‘act independently of commercial and political interests’,[12] and NOCs must ‘resist’ political pressures that ‘may prevent them from complying with the Olympic Charter’.[13] Lastly, international sport is deeply grounded in the idea of universality in which a sport, regardless of where it is played, is played by the same rules, meaning that the sport rules (the rules of the game) are not influenced by the politics or decisions of a particular state (i.e. sport autonomy).[14]

Coubertin also saw the Games as a ‘sacred enclosure’ for the athletes of the world,[15] symbolizing the conceptual genesis of the sanitized space within the modern Games. In these early days of the Games, Coubertin also believed that protecting the ‘sacred enclosure’ also meant keeping women out.[16] While women were first able to participate in the 1900 Olympic Games, albeit in a limited way and resistance to their participation continued,[17] politics remained a black sheep. Avery Brundage, IOC President (1952-1972), also persisted in advocating to keep women out of the Games but was especially a staunch defender of ‘two major Olympic ideals, i.e. amateurism and the non-politicisation of sport’.[18] For him it was not just necessary to keep politics out, but to also ‘actively combat the introduction of politics in the Olympic movement’ and was ‘adamant against the use of the Olympic Games as a tool or as a weapon by an organization’.[19] With Brundage leading the IOC, political neutrality was placed front and center and thus Olympic rules began to reflect this new priority. The 1956 Olympic Charter was the first to include the ‘Information for cities which desire to stage the Olympic Games’ which specifically required that invitations ‘must state that no political demonstrations will be held in the stadium or other sport grounds, or in the Olympic Village, during the Games, and that it is not the intention to use the Games for any other purpose than for the advancement of the Olympic Movement’. This would slowly evolve into the current Rule 50: ‘No kind of demonstration or political, religious or racial propaganda is permitted in any Olympic sites, venues or other areas’. It is interesting to note that the only earlier explicit mention of politics in the Olympic Charter was the 1946 Olympic Charter which was concerned by ‘the nationalization of sports for political aims’ where there would be ‘a national exultation of success achieved rather than the realization of the common and harmonious objective which is the essential Olympic law’.[20] As will be further elaborated in the second blog, it seems as though the IOC has now placed greater priority on enforcing Rule 50 compared to its rules concerning sport nationalism. All things considered, the IOC perceives and projects itself as a neutral entity, which is further confirmed through its governing rules[21] and even its seat in Switzerland further reflects this self-perception.[22]

2.     Failing to Keep Politics Out of the Games

At this point, it is worth exploring some examples that elucidate how politics have continually found a way into the ‘clean’ Olympic bubble through a variety of agents: be it the general public, the athletes, the IOC or states (both the host and participants).

While perhaps often overlooked when discussing politics in the Games, public protests are important to study, especially because there have been many instances of host nations suppressing such public gatherings. For example, in the 2008 Beijing Games, after great international pressure, the Chinese government had set specific zones for Olympic protests. However, protesters were required to submit an application and could be rejected if the protest would ‘harm national, social and collective interests or public order’. In the end, all seventy-seven applications were denied and some of those who applied were arrested, detained and/or put into forced labor.[23] Similarly, at the 2014 Sochi Olympic Games, the IOC proudly welcomed the announcement of special protest areas, despite the fact the zones were placed ‘20 minutes by train from the nearest Olympic venue’ and ultimately only attracted a handful of protesters.[24]

Moreover, in the months leading to the Sochi Games, anti-LGBT laws were passed and a ‘crackdown on civil society unprecedented in the country’s post-Soviet history’ ensued. Despite these repressive measures, athletes stood defiant, and after the IOC made an exception to Rule 50 allowing political expression during press conferences, many athletes used this platform to take a stand.[25] This shows how athletes can sometimes be a critical source for political protest and dissent amidst an atmosphere of suppression, and history has repeatedly demonstrated how athletes can have a vital role in promoting human rights and raising awareness concerning sensitive issues. One simply has to point to the infamous moment when Tommie Smith and John Carlos raised their fists on the podium in protest or when Vera Caslavska turned her head away while the Soviet anthem played. There is little doubt that there has been an extensive history of athlete protest at the Games, and athletes will likely continue raising the problems close to their hearts irrespective of the restrictions they face.

Politics also permeate the Games through the IOC itself as it is continually faced with political decisions, including the recognition of national Olympic committees,[26] decisions concerning participation of athletes,[27] and the awarding of the Games to a city. The latter has often embroiled the Games in controversies, such as the Salt Lake City bid scandal in which a ‘Special US Senate commission found some 1,375 separate expenditures totaling nearly $3 million’ to try and ‘sway individual IOC members’.[28] The scandal prompted several internal investigations in which ten IOC members ‘either resigned or were expelled’. The current Tokyo Games have not been without controversy as a Japanese businessman admitted to giving gifts to IOC members while lobbying for the Games after having received $8.2 million dollars from the Tokyo bid committee. Taken together, it could be argued that this is a real source of ‘dirty’ politics and a greater threat to the concept of a clean or ‘sacred’ space for the Games. Finally, you’ll find a lot of politics inside the IOC, where some commentators have described the rise to power of IOC Presidents as resembling ‘the ascent of a conventional politician’.[29]

Lastly, countries participating and hosting the Games are also able to introduce politics to the Games through boycotts,[30] hosting the Games to promote internal and geo-political interests, and using one’s performance at the Games for political gain and geo-political posturing. Concerning the first, a decision to boycott is always tied to some political goal, as a boycott usually seeks to instigate political change or send a specific political message, such as disapproval of certain political decisions or even an entire political system. For instance, the 1980 Moscow Olympics had 60 countries, led by the US, boycotting the Games in response to the USSR’s invasion of Afghanistan.[31] Indeed, this kind of political wrangling and posturing heavily plagued the Cold War period. It was also during this time that the ‘Soviet Union and the United States attempted to proclaim the superiority of their political and socioeconomic systems by winning the most Olympic gold medals’.[32] A country’s performance at the Games became an indication of one’s geo-political power status, and the idea that ‘sport for sport’s sake is not a goal; rather it is the means to obtaining other goals’ gained more traction. [33] It could be argued that this trend started even before the Cold War. For instance, at the 1936 Berlin Olympics, the Nazis were obsessed with trying to demonstrate ‘German superiority’, which included the incredibly calculated efforts to make the Games into a propaganda spectacle.[34] In this sense, hosting the Games is a unique way to boost a nation’s image and send political messages on a world stage as a sort of ‘soft power strategy’.[35] This kind of sport nationalism is pure politics, and the IOC has long recognized it, as first enshrined in the 1946 Olympic Charter, as a threat to the fundamental goals of the Olympic Games.

3.     Conclusion

Despite the IOC’s attempts to create a ‘clean’ apolitical bubble, politics are structurally embedded within the Games due to the array of actors representing a variety of interests that are involved in its planning and execution. In this sense, the Games can never truly take place within an impenetrable bubble that is somehow separated from the societal context in which it takes place.  The ‘opposite assumptions, that sport was both “above and below” the political dimensions of social life’ is simply untenable.[36] In spite of this, the IOC maintains strict restrictions, through Rule 50, on the free speech of athletes and of the fans and continues to pedal the myth of a pure and sanitized Olympic Games. Instead, I believe political expression should not be regarded as a sly specter infiltrating itself within the Games, defiling the ‘sacred enclosure’ but rather something innate to any free society. Perhaps, in the end, a more genuine ‘mutual respect’ could be achieved if individuals were authorized to openly express their identity and convictions without fear of reprisal even in the face of deep rooted differences.[37]  Regardless, politics and the Games remain naturally entangled, and the next blog in this series will unravel the double standard of the IOC when addressing sport nationalism and athletes’ political expression at the Games.

[1] For many years, amateurism was a key criterion in order to participate in the Olympics.

[2] See my recent blog on Rule 40 Olympic Charter.

[3] Richard Pound also views the idea of the Games as a sort of ‘bubble’ in which the Games create ‘ a special phenomenon during which, even if the world as a whole is not working well, there is an oasis at which the youth of the world can gather for peaceful competition, free from the tensions which their elders have created and with which they will be required to cope before and after the Games’ (emphasis added).

[4] The full quote is as follows: ‘First, this is not a new rule and, second, it is one wholly consistent with the underlying context of the Olympic Games, during which politics, religion, race and sexual orientation are set aside.’ Richard Pound, ‘Free Speech for Olympic Athletes’ (IOC, 11 February 2020) <www.olympic.org/news/free-speech-for-olympic-athletes> accessed 1 April 2020.

[5] See book written by Richard Pound, ‘Inside the Olympics: A Behind-the-Scenes Look at the Politics, the Scandals and the Glory of the Games’ (Wiley 2006).

[6] Rule 6 Olympic Charter.

[7] Although the extent of this truce is disputed. See Kristine Toohey and Anthony James Veal, The Olympic Games: A Social Science Perspective (CAB International 2007) 19-20.

[8] ‘Peace Through Sport’ (IOC) <https://www.olympic.org/pierre-de-coubertin/peace-through-sport> accessed 1 April 2020.

[9] Fundamental Principles of Olympism, Olympic Charter, point 5.

[10] Rule 2 Olympic Charter.

[11] ibid.

[12] Rule 16 Olympic Charter.

[13] Rule 27 Olympic Charter.

[14] Christopher H Hill, Olympic Politics (Manchester University Press 1996).

[15] Jules Boykoff, Power Games: A Political History of the Olympic Games (Verso 2016) 13.

[16] ‘The Olympic Games must be reserved for men’ – Coubertin quoted in Boykoff (n 15) 17; ‘as to the admission of women to the Games, I remain strongly against it’ – Coubertin quoted in Dikaia Chatziefstathiou and Ian P. Henry, Discourses of Olympism: From the Sorbonne 1894 to London 2012 (Springer 2012) 124.

[17] Boykoff (n 15) 59.

[18] ‘Avery Brundage’ (IOC 2011) <https://stillmed.olympic.org/AssetsDocs/OSC%20Section/pdf/LRes_19E.pdf> accessed 1 April 2020.

[19] Boykoff (n 15) 83.

[20] This was also one of Brundage’s greatest concerns. Boykoff (n 15) 84.

[21] See Rule 2 (5) and (11) Olympic Charter and Rule 16 (1.3) Olympic Charter.

[22] See why Lausanne hosts so much of the Olympic Movement: Rebecca Ruiz, ‘Swiss City Is ‘the Silicon Valley of Sports’’ (The New York Times, 22 April 2016) <www.nytimes.com/2016/04/23/sports/olympics/switzerland-global-sports-capital-seeks-new-recruits.html> accessed 1 April 2020.

[23] Boykoff (n 15) 170; See also ‘China: Police Detain Would-Be Olympic Protesters’ (Human Rights Watch, 13 August 2008) <www.hrw.org/news/2008/08/13/china-police-detain-would-be-olympic-protesters> accessed 1 April 2020.

[24] It is also worth noting that of the two protests, one concerned the difficulties Russians faced who were born into World War Two, and the other was a pro-Putin demonstration. On the protest zone see also David Herszenhorn, ‘A Russian Protest Zone Where Almost No One Registers a Complaint’ (The New York Times, 13 February 2014) <www.nytimes.com/2014/02/14/world/europe/a-russian-protest-zone-where-almost-no-one-registers-a-complaint.html> accessed 1 April 2020.

[25] Boykoff (n 15) 204.

[26] Hill (n 14) 36. For example, concerning the recognition and naming of the Chinese Taipei Olympic Committee.

[27] For example, decisions that affect participation of transgender and intersex athletes definitely have a political element. Simply by taking into account the discrepancy in jurisdictions concerning gender identity, the guidelines acknowledge the international political context in which the guidelines operate. See point 1 (b).

[28] Boykoff (n 15) 151.

[29] Hill (n 14) 2 and 60.

[30] Boykoff (n 15) 128.

[31] ibid 127-128.

[32] Andrew Strenk, ‘What Price Victory? The World of International Sports and Politics’ [1979] 445 The Annals of the American Academy of Political and Social Science 128; James Nafziger, 'International Sports Law: A Replay of Characteristics and Trends’ [1992] 86 The American Journal of International Law 489; J. Weston Phippen, ‘The Olympics Have Always Been Political’ (The Atlantic, 28 July 2016) <www.theatlantic.com/news/archive/2016/07/putin-olympic-ban/492047/> accessed 1 April 2020; Boykoff (n 15) 82.

[33] Quoting Erich Honnecker (GDR’s head of state - 1971-1989), Strenk (n 31).

[34] Boykoff (n 15) 69.

[35] Jonathan Grix, ‘Sport Politics and the Olympics’ [2013] 11 Political Studies Review 15.

[36] Lincoln Allison, The Changing Politics of Sport (Manchester University Press 1993) 5.

[37] ‘Rule 50 is a reminder that, at the Olympic Games, restraint is an element of that mutual respect.’ Pound (n 4).

Editor's Note: Pedro is an intern at the Asser Institute and currently studying the Erasmus Mundus Master Degree in Sports Ethics and Integrity (KU Leuven et al.) He worked as a research fellow for the Centre for Sport and Human Rights, and his primary research interests lie in the fields of International Human Rights and sport. 

I.               Introduction

“I can’t do everything and I can’t do it alone. I need allies.” These are the words of the seven-time Formula 1 (F1) world champion, Lewis Hamilton. He was urging more support to advocate for the protection of human rights in the countries visited by Formula 1. During the last years, Hamilton together with Sebastian Vettel, have become the leaders of a movement demanding accountability and greater awareness of the impact of F1 on society.

The inclusion of the Bahrain GP on the F1 racing calendar for the first time in 2004 ignited concerns, which have grown with the inclusion of Abu Dhabi in 2007, Russia in 2014, Azerbaijan in 2017, and Saudi Arabia and Qatar in 2021. The inability and lack of commitment of state authorities to protect and respect human rights, the ineffectiveness of judicial procedures and the systematic repression of political opposition are some of the factors that make these countries prone to human rights violations. Academics and CSOs regularly argue that F1, by signing multi-million dollar contracts with these countries, is complicit in sportswashing. Those pulling the sport’s strings deny these accusations and claim that human rights are at the centre of their agenda when they visit these countries. They claim F1 can drive the improvement of human rights standards in a particular country. However, reality tells a different story. The Bahrain GP has been running for more than a decade and the situation in the country has only worsened, without any signs of F1 contributing to the improvement of the protection of human rights there.

This blog aims to provide an overview of the human rights challenges F1 is facing when hosting a Grand Prix. For this purpose, a case study of the Bahrain GP, one of the longest-running on the modern/current F1 calendar, will be carried out. This will allow us to examine in detail the historical evolution of the GP, the complaints from civil society organisations and the reaction of the Federation Internationale de l’Automobile (FIA) and other stakeholders to the ongoing allegations of human rights violations.

II.              The beginning of the story: 2011 Bahrain GP

The inclusion of the Bahrain GP on the Formula 1 calendar came years before the country ratified the International Covenant on Civil and Political Rights (ICCPR) and the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (ICESCR) in 2006 and 2007 respectively. Already before this, several international organisations such as Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch (HRW) were documenting the systematic human rights violations in Bahrain, at least since the 1990s. However, the turning point in the country was the protests in 2011, inspired by the demonstrations in Tunisia and Egypt, in what is known as the “Arab Spring”. As the Report of the Bahrain Independent Commission of Inquiry highlighted, people mostly belonging to the Shia community were killed, tortured, unlawfully imprisoned or arrested during the armed repression of the protests.

In the same year, the protests directly impacted the organisation of the Bahrain GP. Initially, the race was postponed because it was to be held during the weekend when the first uprisings began. This measure was applauded by the teams, drivers and the authorities as the priority at the time for the Bahraini royal family was to heal divisions and overcome the tragedy. Nevertheless, three months later, FIA decided to approve the return of the Bahrain GP to the F1 calendar and host the race in December. The decision was taken on the basis of a report drafted by Carlos Gracia, FIA Commissioner, who in May of the same year went to Bahrain to analyse the situation and meet with different stakeholders. The report concluded that there was “NO indication of any problems or reasons why Bahrain’s F1 Grand Prix should not return to the 2021 Calendar”. This report contrasts starkly with the situation that civil society organisations were reporting at that time. Five days after Mr Gracia’s visit, a letter from HRW to Jean Todt, Chair of FIA, and Martin Whitmarsh, Chair of F1 Teams Association, expressed concern about the possible rescheduling of the Bahrain GP. The letter reiterated that the human rights situation in the country had “worsened considerably since the cancellation decision in February”. It explicitly indicated that arrests, tortures and restrictions on the work of CSOs and the media continued to be a daily occurrence in the country.

The response to the decision of the FIA to reschedule the Grand Prix was not unanimous, with some of the drivers expressing their disagreement. Red Bull F1 driver Mark Webber stated, “like it or not, F1 and sport in general isn’t above having a social responsibility and conscience. I hope F1 is able to return to Bahrain eventually but now isn’t the right time.” CSOs also started to advocate for the complete suspension of the race, collecting more than 300,000 signatures on a petition hosted by the organisation Avvaz. Ultimately, following a letter from The Formula One Teams Association (FOTA) to FIA expressing their objections, the event was suspended from the 2011 F1 calendar.

At the beginning of 2012, the situation was still tense, and the successful staging of the Bahrain GP for the new season was still in the air. Some CSOs were putting pressure on the teams to boycott the race while pointing out that the situation concerning human rights violations was similar to or worse than the previous year. In the end, with the support of many of the teams, FIA decided that the Bahrain GP would go ahead as planned.

Obviously, the protests in 2011 had a direct impact on the organisation of the Bahrain Grand Prix, to the extent that they led to its cancellation. This set the bar high for what needs to happen in terms of humanitarian reasons or human rights violations for the cancellation of an event. However, despite the deteriorating human rights situation in the country, the Bahraini authorities, F1 and FIA did not hesitate to reschedule the event from 2012 onwards. These decisions echoed beyond the world of sport and triggered reactions from civil society.

III.            The Bahrain GP and the growing human rights expectations of civil society vis a vis F1

The events of 2011 and 2012 were the perfect breeding ground for CSOs to exert pressure in the years to come. Different organisations since then have been demanding more significant consideration of human rights by F1 and other commercial stakeholders.

In 2013, four Bahraini NGOs stressed, in a letter to F1 race organisers, drivers, sponsors and broadcasters, that the situation in the country did not differ much from previous years. For these organisations, the intention of the government and organisers in hosting the Grand Prix was clear: “to broadcast a false picture of normality to the outside world”. The letter also prompted a political backlash from some British MPs who called for the Bahrain GP to be cancelled. But for the F1 chief executive at that time, Bernie Ecclestone, the allegations had nothing to do with the race. He expressed that “We [F1] don’t go anywhere to judge how a country is run. I keep asking people, ‘What human rights?’ – I don’t know what they are”. Thus, during 2013 and 2014, the race was run despite clear opposition from a number of CSOs.

Given the limited impact of the various reports and letters sent by CSOs to different stakeholders involved in the Bahrain GP, one of these organisations decided to explore a new approach. In 2014, Americans for Democracy & Human Rights in Bahrain (ADHRB) submitted a complaint to the United Kingdom National Contact Point for the OECD Guidelines for Multinational Enterprises. ADHRB alleged that “companies in the Formula One Group [a company registered in the UK] had failed to address human rights impacts associated with the Bahrain Grand Prix.” After a mediation procedure, ADHRB and F1 reached a common ground. F1 issued a statement including a commitment to respect internationally recognised human rights in all of its operations and to develop and implement a due diligence policy. The statement also states that “where domestic laws and regulations conflict with internationally recognised human rights, the Formula 1 companies will seek ways to honour them to the fullest extent which does not place them in violation of domestic law.” At first, this step was welcomed by the CSOs, but as time passed, it proved to be merely a mirage and not a substantial change in F1 practices.

The consistent violation of human rights in Bahrain continued in the years following the publication of the statement, especially through political repression and the use of violence against demonstrators, media and workers of human rights organisations, and so did the racing in Bahrain. During different demonstrations in 2016 and 2017 against the Bahrain GP, the police used excessive force, resulting in several arrests and even the death of one teenager. This revived the criticisms of the CSOs, who again demanded with more forcefulness and support for the respect of the commitments that F1 itself had published years ago. In a letter by different CSOs, it was highlighted that “failing to exercise due diligence and thus abide by your own Statement of Commitment to Respect for Human Rights risks greater complicity in human rights abuses in Bahrain and the tarnishing of your brand’s [F1] reputation.” In response to the letter, F1 stated that

“We believe that Formula 1’s presence in every country on its calendar is positive and a force for good. Sport engages people from all walks of life and plays an important role in uniting communities and encouraging tolerance and acceptance. We believe too that Formula 1’s global profile shines a light and brings transparency to the internal affairs of every country that we visit.”

It was only at the end of 2018 that F1 publicly expressed its concerns about the human rights situation in Bahrain, more specifically about the imprisonment of the activist Najah Yusuf for protesting against the GP. The United Nations Working Group on Arbitrary Detention (WGAD) considered this detention arbitrary, unlawful, and in violation of her rights to free speech and to a fair trial. Nevertheless, F1 never took action in the investigation process or strongly condemned the imprisonment. This prompted a large number of CSOs, including HRW and Amnesty International, to call on F1 again in 2019 to cancel the Grand Prix in response to a lack of investigation into Yusuf’s claims and urged drivers to boycott the race.

The second turning point was the postponement of the Bahrain GP in March 2020 due to the Covid-19 pandemic. In November of the same year, seventeen CSOs, including World Players Association, HRW and Amnesty International, issued a statement on the worsening situation in the country and how the pandemic has increased the risk of human rights violations linked to F1. Moreover, the focus was no longer only on the violations directly linked to the GP, but also on the use of the sporting event to whitewash the image of the country, what has been called “sportswashing”. This latter line of argument was also followed by a letter delivered by thirty British MPs to F1 chief Chase Carey. It is at this point that CSOs begin to gain more support from public officials for their demands. For example, 90 parliamentarians from Britain, Spain, Ireland, France, Belgium, Italy and Germany sent a letter in 2022 to Mohammed ben Sulayem, president of FIA, accusing FIA and F1 of actively facilitating sportswashing in Gulf countries.

We have charted ten years of human rights advocacy and demands linked to the Bahrain Grand Prix and directed at the FIA. Initially, these human rights claims were related to the 2011 uprisings, when CSOs claimed that the Bahrain GP could not be held due to the fragile political situation in the country and the constant human rights violations linked to the protests. Subsequently, from 2014 onwards, the discourse focused mainly on the direct links of some human rights violations with the organisation of the GP, with CSOs reproaching F1 for not exercising due diligence and thus failing to comply with its own human rights commitments. The final phase, from 2020 onwards, is mainly characterised by the involvement of other actors, such as politicians and F1 drivers, who protested against the F1 being used as an instrument by authoritarian states to launder their reputations. What has been the impact of such public protests and mobilizations by CSOs and others? Have they triggered transformative changes in the way F1 tackles human rights risks linked to the Bharain GP?

IV.            What has F1 done to improve the human rights situation in Bahrain?

While the human rights expectations of civil society vis a vis F1 are clear and increasingly demanding, as exposed in the previous section, only a few of these expectations have had a practical impact to some degree. In order to analyse these actions, it is necessary first to identify the two organisations with the power to take appropriate measures. On the one hand, the Formula One Group (FOG) is composed of a diverse cluster of companies and, on the other hand, the actions taken by the governing body of F1, FIA.

The position of the FOG until 2015 was highly criticised by CSOs, as the previous section illustrates, not only because of its lack of action but also because of its official discourse, mainly led by Bernie Ecclestone, which belittled human rights. The exit of the British magnate from the FOG prompted a discursive change in the organisation, now recognising certain links between human rights violations and the organisation of the Bahrain GP. Nevertheless, the only real action taken was forced by the ADHRB when they submitted the complaint to the UK National Contact Point for the OECD Guidelines, resulting in the F1 Human Rights Commitment.

Now the FOG includes in its Code of Conduct (CoC) a section regarding human rights and modern slavery. Nevertheless, they only refer to what has already been stated in their Human Rights Commitment. In this CoC, they also add that if “you believe that an individual’s human rights may be adversely affected, you must report it to the Compliance Team as soon as possible”. This compliance team is led by two legal counsels, notably without experience in human rights topics that also deal with other areas such as compliance, brand protection, human resources and administration functions. In fact, Sacha Woodward, one of the members of the compliance team, when asked in 2019 about the impact of F1 on human rights, stated that “we [FOG] don’t see ourselves as a political organisation. We just want to bring a great entertainment spectacle to as big an audience as possible to as many countries as we can reach”. This comment clearly shows the priorities of the FOG, profit over human rights, and tries to reinforce the idea that F1 is a bubble free from human rights violations. A change in this dynamic seems unrealistic at this point since the FOG is a sport business entity that seeks primarily economic profit, which Bahrain brings to it in spades.

The passivity of the FOG is not beyond reproach, but the position of the FIA is even more flagrantly disregarding human rights. Since 2011, the sport governing body has not taken any initiative or seriously addressed the human rights issues in Bahrain that CSOs have brought to its attention year after year. Although in recent years, some SGBs are adopting human rights policies (e.g., FIFA) or recognising the importance of their protection (e.g., IOC), the organisation that safeguards motorsports seems unwilling to take that road. This unwillingness was clearly shown by the new FIA president, who recently stressed that drivers should devote more time to driving and less to advocating for human rights problems. Nevertheless, we could be witnessing the end of this passivity, as some signs of change can be glimpsed recently. At the end of 2021, the World Council for Automobile Mobility and Tourism (WCAMT), the body responsible for all FIA issues affecting the automobile in society, hold their Annual General Assembly. In this meeting, Prince Zeid Ra’ad Al Hussein, former UN High Commissioner for Human Rights, and Rachel Davis, Vice President of the non-profit organisation Shift, presented a set of recommendations “to take the authoritative international framework – the United Nations Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights – and apply it to the FIA’s reality”. These recommendations are the result of a process that FIA, in the context of its Diversity, Inclusion and Human Rights Strategic Framework, started to develop in 2020. The group of experts took a look at three spheres of FIA’s activity: FIA “as an employer and procurer of goods and services; as the regulator of world motorsport, and as a major player in mobility”. Unfortunately, both the Framework and the recommendations are not public, which underlines how FIA is still far from achieving the standards of transparency and integrity in governance that society has been demanding of SGBs.

The highlighted actions, or rather inactions, show a clear lack of will from both organisations over the last ten years. Small shoots seem to flourish recently, but it is still necessary for both organisations to commit more human and financial resources to address this problem and improve their governance standards.

V.              Conclusion. What needs to change in Formula 1?

The blog has illustrated how FIA and F1 have come under increasing public pressure from CSOs (and beyond) over the human rights impacts of the Bahrain Grand Prix. Civil society and drivers are increasingly demanding more profound changes in both organisations. Therefore, to conclude this piece, some basic recommendations to FIA and F1 are presented as a point to start with, all of them inspired by the report “For the game. For the world. FIFA and human rights” prepared by John Ruggie at the request of FIFA.

First of all, FIA, like FIFA, has to adopt a Human Rights policy. As of today, the FIA statutes only refer to human rights in article 1.2, which states that “the FIA shall promote the protection of human rights and human dignity […]”. A future human rights policy shall specify and expand on the implications of this commitment. It should not only address the internal organisation of FIA but also consider its business relationship with the FOG. In this context, the United Nations Guiding Principles on Business and Human Rights and OECD Due Diligence Guidance seem to be the most appropriate frameworks through which to articulate and implement the policy.

Secondly, as Ruggie mentions in the report, “even the best human rights policy is no more than words on paper without the necessary actions and incentives to make it part of everyday practice”. The Human Rights commitment adopted by the FOG in 2015 is a clear example of this discrepancy between words and deeds. Instead, both organisations should embed their human rights policies and commitments in their daily operations. Decision-making, especially those concerning the decision to host a Grand Prix in a particular country, should be subjected to detailed human rights impact assessments.

Lastly, once these actions have been adopted, it is necessary to adopt mechanisms to monitor their effects and effectiveness. Without it, the policies will not cover the new challenges and will not adapt to the changing circumstances of the countries hosting a Grand Prix.

For all of the above reasons, both FIA and the FOG must stop ignoring the CSOs working in Bahrain and the rest of the community demanding a change. All stakeholders must work for the common good: the protection of human rights.