FEATURE: SPORTSWASHING IN CYCLING
Sponsors have always been attracted to cycling for its publicity value. But that good publicity can sometimes cover up more questionable activities and reputations. Procycling takes a look at how some sponsors are attempting to ‘sportswash’ their brands
How are cycling teams being used by sponsors to sportswash brands and bring good publicity?
Road cycling has always been one of the most professional of sports. This goes back to its popularisation in the late 19th century to highlight towns that wanted to stand out more prominently on the map and promote newspapers vying to spread sporting news. Wedded inextricably to money and marketing, it has often sidelined ethical concerns. For the most part, these have related to doping, but a new shadow has emerged in the shape of ‘sportswashing’, the term used to describe sponsorship that’s designed to revitalise the tarnished reputation of the backer making the investment.
Initially, these backers were commercial enterprises. Among the first was French company Le Groupement, which launched a team to huge fanfare in 1994 only to scupper it a year later when the nature of its pyramid sales business model became apparent and, significantly, had been widely criticised by the media. More recently, Australian mining giant Orica, which gained renown in its home country for a series of incidents involving leaks of dangerous chemicals including cyanide, arsenic and mercury, added some muchneeded PR gloss its reputation thanks to its sponsorship of the GreenEdge pro team between 2011 and 2017. The team, thanks to its ‘Backstage Pass’ videos and friendly ethos, was a popular one with fans, popular enough that few asked questions about the activities of its sponsor.
The WorldTour has also welcomed a number of teams financed by regimes that have been widely criticised for human rights abuses, specifically Bahrain, the United Arab Emirates and Astana, which is backed by a coalition of stateowned companies in Kazakhstan. Over recent years, Human Rights Watch, Amnesty International and the United Nations have consistently highlighted a range of infractions committed by the ruling regimes in each of these countries, including suppression of political rights, harassment of individuals and organisations belonging to the opposition, and even extending to wrongful imprisonment and torture.
“As pro cycling grows, it’s likely that countries with poor human rights records will increasingly see the sport as yet another means of subtly ‘rebranding’ their country,” says Allan Hogarth, Amnesty International UK’s Head of Policy and Government Affairs. “The glamour of elite cycling is undoubtedly already attractive to the authorities in places like Bahrain and the UAE, if it means people are talking about cycle races and not the jailing of dissidents or about torture in jails.”
The high-profile case involving Bahraini international footballer Hakeem al-Araibi illustrates particularly well how sportswashing works and also how it can backfire. In mid-December, the BahrainMerida team announced to much fanfare a joint venture partnership with the McLaren Group; at the same time Al-Araibi was fighting extradition to
“As pro cycling grows, it’s likely that countries with poor human rights records will increasingly see the sport as yet another means of subtly ‘ rebranding’ their country”
Bahrain having been arrested on his arrival with his wife in Thailand for their honeymoon. His crime was speaking up about alleged persecution by his country’s security forces, following protests inspired by the Arab Spring in 2011. Subsequently detained on a charge of vandalising a police station, he pointed out he had been playing in a televised match at the time of the attack.
Al-Araibi had been granted asylum in Australia in 2014, and his detainment in a Thai prison came as the result of a request from the Bahraini government on an Interpol warrant that had been wrongly issued. He spent three months in prison before protests from the Australian government, including Prime Minister Scott Morrison, human rights organisations, sporting federations and numerous footballers and other athletes resulted in mass media coverage of the case. In mid-February, Thai officials dropped the case against al-Araibi and allowed him to return to Australia.
The question is, does Bahrain’s sponsorship of a professional cycling team have anything to do with cases like this? Does sportswashing matter to the teams and riders supported by regimes and the fans watching and supporting them on the roadside?
When investigating the UAE’s investment in Manchester City, Guardian journalist Barney Ronay noted that the term itself involves a value judgment. “It stems from a belief in moral absolutes, the idea we can say with certainty a particular ideology or regime should not be ‘normalised’ by close association with sport,” he said. Yet this conviction is subject to a significant dose of “whataboutery”, the idea that many nations are involved in practices that might be regarded as equally reprehensible. The United Kingdom, for instance, is among the world’s largest suppliers of weapons and the UAE, Bahrain and Kazakhstan feature among a string of countries that have a poor record on human rights and to which the UK government has sold arms. The United States is similarly complicit. In other words, fingers can be pointed in many directions and it’s down to the individual to decide where to draw the line on these issues.
At the same time, though, few would deny that governments, businesses and, yes, sports have a responsibility to respect human rights, and that abuses ought to be highlighted. “Cycling is big business, and like any business it should always ensure that its activities avoid any direct complicity in human rights violations – including in relation to supply chains and workers’ rights,” Hogarth says. Yet cycling’s record in recent seasons suggests far greater concern with the bottom line than human rights, and that this extends well beyond the teams already highlighted.
In 2017, the UCI organised its 2017 World Road Race Championships in Qatar, in spite of well-reported use of hundreds of thousands of migrant workers in the construction industry, where they were at risk of exploitation, mistreatment and even of forced or slave labour. Tour de France owners ASO organised the national tour in Qatar for several years, while Giro d’Italia owners RCS run the UAE Tour. RCS
In 2017, the UCI organised its 2017 World Championships in Qatar in spite of well reported use of hundreds of thousands of migrant workers in the construction industry
also came under fire when it awarded the Giro start to Israel in 2018. Race director Mauro Vegni fended off criticism about the controversial decision: “The reality is that we want it to be a sports event and stay away from any political discussion.”
In saying this, the Giro boss not only showed his naivety about the political situation in the Middle East but also unwittingly underlined the unavoidable reality of sporting sponsorship or hosting. It will inevitably focus attention on that sponsor or host. What would be the point of the investment otherwise? While they will undoubtedly want to get the right kind of coverage and essentially encourage a sportswashing effect, the opposite may occur.
“It’s important to remember that ‘sportswashing’ isn’t inevitable,” says Hogarth, who uses the 2018 Giro’s start in Israel to demonstrate how it can go awry. “When the race was staged in Jerusalem, it actually meant that people were talking about Israel’s human rights record as well as the cycling. Similarly, with the Beijing Olympics a decade ago or the forthcoming World Cup in Qatar, a country hosting a very high-profile sporting event can expect to have their human rights record subjected to fresh scrutiny.” Human rights organisations, Amnesty International among them, acknowledge that it is impossible to be purist about sport being employed as a means of cloaking a bad reputation and are not against teams, clubs and individuals receiving financial backing from countries that are often condemned for abuse of rights. Rather, they aim to use their influence to encourage a wider, cleareyed perception about exploitation and mistreatment, in many cases calling on athletes to highlight issues. The ultimate goal of this ‘nudging pressure’ is to enable fans to gain the knowledge to make their own decisions about sponsors with an unsavoury backstory.
“We would call on everyone involved in professional cycling – the riders, the coaching staff, the sponsors, the merchandisers – to use their considerable influence to demonstrate they care about human rights,” Hogarth says. “Given their huge public profiles, individual riders can make a difference. A well-timed tweet drawing attention to a jailed person can go a long way to counteracting the effect of sportswashing.”
Cycling is particularly susceptible to this kind of reputation laundering, of following the money rather than adhering to principles, because teams are always so desperate to find new backers. Looking from another perspective, cycling has become attractive because the teams carry the sponsor’s name rather than simply appearing as a logo on a football shirt or on the bodywork of a F1 racing car, so ambitious carbon powers have been both generous and longstanding in their support. As a consequence of the sport’s appeal to both sides, it is very probable that these symbiotic relationships will continue. However, for them to truly thrive, all involved in cycle sport, whether within the teams, on the sidelines or within the media, must bear in mind that injustice cannot be tolerated and should be challenged.
Following his release from prison and return to Australia, Hakeem al-Araibi called for pressure to be maintained on Bahrain and other regimes, highlighting the detention of other athletes and, in some cases, their relations. “International sporting bodies, governments and individuals must unite to fight for the helpless,” he implored. It’s a sentiment with which cycling fans should agree.
Cycling has become attractive because the teams carry the sponsor’s name rather than simply appearing as a logo on a football shirt or F1 car