2008 Olympics Updates

Picking a symbol for the Olympic Spirit is the easy part. Defining the concept is also straightforward, but judging its relative standing in modern society isn’t.

The symbolic emblems of the Spirit are the Olympic torch and the Olympic flame. Lit every four years in ancient Olympia in Greece, for these Beijing Games, the flame has been on an unprecedented intercontinental journey.

China’s desire is for people everywhere to feel, live and understand its slogan “One World, One Dream”. So the torch has been to places it never had before, highlighting the inclusiveness of the Olympic Games.

If you doubt that inclusiveness, consider that there are more competing teams in Beijing than there are members of the United Nations.

The international relay of the Olympic torch was certainly controversial, with vigorous – often violent – protests in some cities, most notably London and Paris.

Dr Jacques Rogge, the President of the IOC, expressed his shock at some of the levels of violence exhibited against the torch procession, but there were also plenty of expressions of support for the torch, such as in San Francisco, most often by expatriate Chinese.

What the international torch relay showed definitively, once and for all, is that sport and politics are indivisible partners. One does not exist without the other.

From Moscow to Havana, from Washington DC to Paris, sporting glory is a symbol of national success, of progress and achievement, a matter of national pride and an indication that a country truly belongs amongst the elite of world society.

For me, the essence of the Olympic Spirit is togetherness, solidarity, understanding, compassion and participation. The Games are meant to unite, and again, as I’ve said in previous blogs, they are about establishing cultural connections.

But if I’m thinking about the Games themselves, in the here and now, the three words I’d use are multi-disciplined, marketing and money.

I’m not saying every TV viewer will analyze their reactions in such a manner, but watching great sporting achievement can lift the soul. Sporting brilliance celebrates the ascent of man and can be a common denominator for all humanity.

Those moments are also mirrored at the other end of the scale, because while we can all appreciate winners, we can also empathise with the rest, be they fourth, fifth or stone cold last.

Participation is the key, to be a part of the Olympic Games and to feel the togetherness of the biggest sporting gathering on the globe.

In Beijing, there will be more than 10,000 athletes taking part in 302 different events. That means only 906 medals are available for those thousands of competitors. The majority will have arrived here fully aware they stand no chance of winning gold, silver or bronze, but they still want to be here to take part.

Two of the most symbolic and evocative moments of Atlanta 1996 came from completely opposite ends of the spectrum.

First there was the indelible image of the American Michael Johnson, his golden shoes and upright stance sprinting to a world record in the 200 metres.

Then there was the Briton Derek Redmond pulling up injured on the home straight of the 400 metres. Almost unable to walk, his father jumped over from the spectator stands to put an arm around his son and help a tearful Redmond across the finishing line.

The white heat from the flashbulbs around the stadium was just as intense for both moments, and they are both two of the best manifestations of the Olympic Spirit.

What sums up for the Olympic Spirit for you? If you want to appear live on the show, or just have an opinion to share, email us at mygames@bbc.co.uk.

There’s one slogan that I’ve now memorized (I had no choice – I’ve heard it perhaps several hundred times today): “Ao yun jia you! Zhong Guo jia you!” (translation: “Go Olympics! Go China!”)

This morning, in the city of Kashgar, teenage volunteers chanted this slogan as the torch relay got underway (occasionally adding “Go Kashgar!” or “Go Sichuan!” – the province hit by last month’s earthquake.)

Security for the torch relay here in the Xinjiang region has been tremendously strict (this region is home to 8 million Uighur people, who are Muslims. China says it faces a real terrorist threat from Uighur separatists – a claim disputed by human rights groups.)

The authorities here didn’t want reporters wandering away off on their own during the relay. So, just after dawn, we were all driven to the square outside the Idkah mosque for the start of the relay (to help identify us, local officials gave each of us two red stickers and politely told us to put one on our chests and one on our backs.)

Once the opening ceremony was over, we were driven straight to another square to get ready for the closing ceremony (as we drove we saw that most – if not all – shops and businesses were shuttered. There were no cars on the road. Local people had been told to stay indoors.)

We weren’t given the chance to watch the relay itself as it went through the streets – the torch was cheered along by carefully chosen crowds. My colleagues and I did manage to wander about 20 metres or so from the site of the closing ceremony to film some roads which were closed off – but we were quickly stopped by officials who told us that we were banned from doing this.

Just after midday, the closing ceremony came to an end, and we were allowed to walk away on our own. We passed one side street and saw a line of Uighur people who’d come out of their homes to catch sight of the relay. They were being watched by a police officer – he told us to stop filming them. So we walked on. We saw people slowly coming back onto the streets – to open up their shops. The Olympics came to their city – but not everyone got to see it.