Corruption in weightlifting exposes sport's need for independent enforcer | Sean Ingle

Moments before powerlifters attempt a superhuman feat of strength, they like to hold a capsule of ammonia to their nose, snort deeply, and feel a huge jolt of adrenaline rip through their bodies. But it is going to take far more than smelling salts to revive weightlifting’s reputation after the publication of a truly eye-bulging independent investigation by the Canadian law professor Richard McLaren. Corruption. Cronyism. Cover-ups. Bribes. An omerta that would impress the five families. It’s all there in a 122-page report that leaves the reader feeling they have bathed in a fetid swamp.

Think Fifa and double it. The IAAF and quadruple it. McLaren’s investigation found that more than $10m (around £7.9m) was unaccounted for in the books of the International Weightlifting Federation, that 40 doping positives were covered up and vote-buying to ensure the re-election of the former president Dr Tamas Ajan was rampant. And that was just for starters.

The Hungarian, a senior figure in the sport since 1976, also “ran the IWF as if it was his own personal fiefdom”, concluded McLaren, whose team also established that Ajan was “the sole person making all cash deposits into the IWF’s bank accounts” and “millions of dollars in cash withdrawals conducted by Ajan were never recorded”.

A confidential witness told McLaren’s investigation team that at one point Ajan even called up the head of the Albanian weightlifting federation and issued an ultimatum: pay a $100,000 fine for doping offences – in cash – or his team would not go to the Rio Olympics. Cue a comical scene involving four Albanian officials taking $25,000 each in cash on a road trip from Tirana to Budapest. At least Ajan gave them a receipt.

Other countries – including Russia and Romania – did not even get that. No wonder an expert in money laundering quoted in McLaren’s report described Ajan’s modus operandi as apparently “symptomatic of corruption or criminal activity”. Investigators also uncovered a deleted letter addressed to Ajan from the Azerbaijan National Olympic Committee’s president in 2016 – thanking him for delaying the doping suspensions of certain Azeri weightlifters so they could compete. Meanwhile, McLaren’s report notes the 2013 and 2017 presidential elections were “astonishingly bribery prone”, with Ajan securing his presidency “by paying member federations cash bribes ranging from $5,000-30,000 to vote for him and his team of cronies”.

It is astounding stuff. The question is, why did all this take so long to come out? Part of the explanation, surely, is that Ajan established a culture of fear, with McLaren also reporting: “In one historical instance, he stated to a confidential witness that he could turn their athletes’ samples ‘dirty’.”

Lack of financial scrutiny must be another factor. Until 2009, the work of the IWF’s internal auditors committee consisted of “going to Budapest, collecting $100 or a bottle of whiskey and listening to Ajan say: ‘Here you are, here are the books. Sign them and we go to dinner.’”

Tamas Ajan, the Hungarian former president of the International Weightlifting Federation, pictured in 2008.



Tamas Ajan, the Hungarian former president of the International Weightlifting Federation, pictured in 2008. Photograph: Yves Herman/Reuters

Rotten people in rotten sports federations largely get away with it because there is no sports sheriff to watch over them, no sports judge to jail miscreants and little public thirst in scrutiny. No one cares enough.

The International Olympic Committee, whose money keeps many sports organisations afloat, could do it although it has previously shown scant sign of wanting to do so. Indeed, McLaren’s report recounts that when Dr Antonio Urso, the president of the European Weightlifting, complained millions were missing from the IWF’s Swiss bank accounts more than a decade ago nothing was done – with the IOC ethics commission stating it was an issue for the individual federations. Since the report has been published the IOC has issued a statement noting the “deeply concerning” contents of McLaren’s report and undertaking to “support the efforts” of IWF to reform its governance.

The answer, surely, is for an independent enforcer, packed with serious investigative muscle, to scrutinise international sports bodies more closely. Why not McLaren and his team, given their record with weightlifting and, before that, Russian state-sponsored doping. There is an obvious problem, though: who would fund it? As things stand, it is journalists who usually shine the initial light. McLaren began his investigation at the behest of the IWF after the ARD documentary Lord of the Lifters. The German broadcaster also exposed the extent of Russian doping – and how the IAAF had accepted secret payments to ignore doping cases.

Other organisations, including the Guardian, have exposed corruption in the Tokyo 2020 Olympic bid and in AIBA, amateur boxing’s governing body. But it is not easy for the fourth estate to land a glove – especially against opponents with high-powered legal teams.

Ajan has claimed the allegations against him are unfounded and says he wanted to “maintain a close relationship with the IWF and the weightlifting family”. However, the astonishing findings of McLaren’s report suggests that is unlikely.

When I spoke to one senior figure about weightlifting’s problems recently, he predicted that another sport would soon be making headlines as it is “still running things in a very old-fashioned way”. The fact neither of us was shocked told its own story.

source: theguardian.com