[null, {"document_url": "http://anatheimp.blogspot.com/2012/07/war-by-other-means.html", "unformatted_src": "http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wOClmS-k_HM/UBhj7A2pRvI/AAAAAAAAGVQ/TXXl7Xcmusw/s400/Blood.jpg", "src": "http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-wOClmS-k_HM/UBhj7A2pRvI/AAAAAAAAGVQ/TXXl7Xcmusw/s400/Blood.jpg", "formatted_filename": "Blood", "rendered_width": 400, "rendered_height": 225}, null, null, null, {"document_url": "http://anatheimp.blogspot.com/2012/07/war-by-other-means.html", "unformatted_src": "//2.bp.blogspot.com/-qr2xH3j16kI/US6bSum_-jI/AAAAAAAAID4/vHiekohj0Uk/s80/look.jpg", "src": "http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-qr2xH3j16kI/US6bSum_-jI/AAAAAAAAID4/vHiekohj0Uk/s80/look.jpg", "formatted_filename": "look", "alt_text": "My photo", "rendered_width": 80, "rendered_height": 60}, null, null, null, null, {"document_url": "http://anatheimp.blogspot.com/2012/07/war-by-other-means.html", "unformatted_src": "http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_X7cq0i0IwXc/SwtNhbgJheI/AAAAAAAAB0o/sZmjCXBxq1Y/S230/LittleDevil.jpg", "src": "http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_X7cq0i0IwXc/SwtNhbgJheI/AAAAAAAAB0o/sZmjCXBxq1Y/S230/LittleDevil.jpg", "formatted_filename": "LittleDevil", "alt_text": "Ana as the Imp", "rendered_width": 137, "rendered_height": 139}, null, {"document_url": "http://anatheimp.blogspot.com/2012/07/war-by-other-means.html", "unformatted_src": "http://bloggers.com/u/64098/p/img_01.png", "src": "http://bloggers.com/u/64098/p/img_01.png", "formatted_filename": "img", "alt_text": "Anatheimp - Find me on Bloggers.com"}, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null, null]

Tuesday, 31 July 2012

War By Other Means Oh, to be in now the Olympics are there.  Actually, no.  Now the Olympics are in I’m not!  The city is mad enough at the best of times, so I decided to escape during the build-up, first into the countryside and now north into .  I’m in  at present, on the threshold of a foray into the .  While here I visited the recently-opened Catherine the Great exhibition being held in National Museum of Scotland in , a fantastic experience which I intend to write about soon.
Thinking of and thinking of the Olympics, I have an angle that ties in both.  It concerns an incident in the 1956 Melbourne Games, when sport turned into war by other means.  I have to thank Zunnur, who, in a comment on my recent blog on Hungary (Hungary’s Future is all in the Past, 18 July) drew my attention to what I now know has passed into history as the Blood in the Water Match, surely one of the most vivid and lurid spectacles ever seen in whole of the modern games.
It concerned a water polo match between the and , a simple enough affair that came to symbolise so much more.  It’s December, 1956.  Only weeks before the Hungarian Rising against communist rule had been crushed under the treads of Russian tanks.  , the capital, was in ruins.  Across the world, where Hungarians were free to express any feelings at all against their ‘fraternal liberators’ they expressed nothing but hatred.  They were free to express such feeling in .
’s champion water polo team knew nothing of these events.  They had been cut off from news from home while training for the games in adjacent .  It was only after they arrived in that they learned the extent of the violence.
Twenty-one-year old Ervin Zador, a star player and the only member of the Hungarian party who could read English, bought a local paper when their flight first touched down on Australian soil in the northern city of Darwin.  No sooner had he read the news than he told his team mates that he was not going back home.
The Hungarians went on to dominate their event, winning through to the semi-finals.  It was there that they met the Russians on 6 December.  Tension was already high.  The audience, dominated by Hungarian exiles, turned their backs as the Russians entered.  When the Soviet anthem was played they clapped loudly to drown it out.  With shouts of Hajra Magyarok! (Go Hungarians!), they waved flags and urged on their countrymen.  “We always had an extra incentive when we played the Soviets, but the atmosphere at was another dimension," Zador said. "The game meant so much to us. We had to win the gold medal. We were playing for ourselves, for our families back home, for our country."

Throughout the ensuing match, which the Hungarians won 4-0, there had been kicking and punching from both sides.  No fewer than five players were ordered out of the pool by the referee.  With only minutes left before the end Zador was punched in the eye by one Valentin Prokopov, the Russian player immediately opposite.
With blood pouring from his eye, giving the encounter its infamous name, the Hungarian spectators in the crowd erupted.  People raised their fists, shouted abuse and spat at the Russians.  To prevent a riot the police were forced to intervene.
The team went on to beat in the final. Though Zador was unable to take part due to his injury he stood on the podium for the medal ceremony.  True to his word, he refused to return to communist , seeking political asylum in the West.  He was joined by no fewer than half of the 100-member party that come to .   Zador went on to settle in the , where he worked for many years as a swimming coach.
I’ve never believed that it’s possible to separate politics from sport, not so long as national passions are involved.  The 1956 national passions were at a height.  The Blood in the Water match seems to me to be proof enough for this contention.
Posted by Anastasia F-B at 16:08 Labels: hungary, olympic games, Soviet Russia, sport Ana's Theme Tune Ana as the Imp Political Spectrum Quiz Anastasia's bookshelf: read More of Anastasia's books » Visit Book Blogs Visit 20 Something Bloggers The Spectator Blog Ana the Imp Lijit Search Wijit
 
Anastasia Fitzgerald-Beaumont Are we movie
My Flixster