CHESS
Twelve Olympians
Raymond Keene
This week saw the start of the 112- nation World Chess Olympics in the Philip- pine capital Manila. The Chess Olympics were founded at London in 1927 by a group of British mind-sports visionaries, and their concept has borne magnificent fruit. Now more countries are affiliated to the World Chess Federation (the organis- ers of the chess Olympics) than to any other sporting body, apart from FIFA who govern football. Manila is also an unpre- cedentedly powerful event, mainly because most of the former Soviet republics, far from pooling their strength under the collective CIS banner, as is the case with most sports, have decided to compete as separate entities. This move manifests, to any who might have doubted it, the full ethnic diversity of the ex-Soviet empire.
The shock waves of the USSR's collapse have not just been confined to within their own borders. Troops of the former Soviet Union's grandmasters have, indeed, dis- persed to represent 12 separate republics in Manila, but many others have been en- gaged as mercenaries to bolster foreign sides. Belgium, France, Switzerland, Hol- land and Israel can boast former Soviet stars in their squads, while the USA team has Gata Kamsky on top board and two other ex-Soviets in its six-man team.
England are second in the chess firma- ment, having won the silver medals three times and bronze once since 1984. But Russia is still number one seed, headed by Kasparov, in spite of the withdrawal of Karpov and Yusupov, who have been replaced by the lesser lights Kramnik and Vizhmanavin. In order to ensure the best available line-up, Kasparov, a mind-sports millionaire and the only Soviet citizen I ever saw use an American Express gold card to settle the bill in a London res- taurant, offered to cover personally all the expenses of his team mates. Alexander Khalifman was one key target for Kaspar- ov. Khalifman seemed a waverer, likely to shift his allegiance to Germany, where he now lives. Somehow, Kasparov provided convincing enough reasons to persuade him to stay loyal to Russia.
There are, in all, eleven other ex-Soviet teams: Armenia, Azerbaijan, Estonia, Georgia, Kirgistan, Latvia (top board the brilliant 19-year-old Alexei Shirov, with former world champion Mikhail Tal as low as board 4), Lithuania, Moldova, Turk- menistan, the Ukraine (led by world num- ber three, Vassily Ivanchuk) and Uzbekis- tan. No fewer than seven of these are seeded into the overall top twenty, a staggering statistic.
With four million registered players, the USSR used to account for 80 per cent of the World Chess Federation's mem- bership. In 1920 Lenin had declared chess the gymnasium of the mind and state bureaucrats in the sports ministry set about turning the Soviet Union into the greatest chess power the world had seen. For over half a century, Soviet Grandmasters en- joyed a privileged position. The hub of their empire was a resplendent building on Gogol Boulevard in the centre of Moscow, its cabinets stuffed with world and Olympic trophies. However, with the disappearance of state subsidy, the once grand Central Chess Club has had to let out rooms to bridge players and even discotheques. But now, as we see in Manila, far from becom- ing an isolated and enfeebled white dwarf, the old red chess giant has spawned a whole new galaxy of chess stars.
Another historic chess nation, facing problems of an entirely different nature, is Yugoslavia. Chess is a passion in Yugosla- via. Alexander Matanovic, Fide's deputy president, is a Serb and the Yugoslav city of Novi Sad hosted the last chess Olympics in 1990. Yugoslavia, though, has been banned from Manila, in line with the UN boycott. The ban will be experienced, after decades of devotion to chess, as a humiliat- ing blow to Yugoslav national pride. And what of England's prospects in this strongest-ever Olympics? With the gener- ous assistance of their sponsors, merchant bank Duncan Lawrie, their line-up is: Nigel Short, Jon Speelman, Michael Adams, John Nunn, Murray Chandler and Julian Hodgson. Russia has an average Elo rating of 2645, England 2638, and the USA 2629, as also the Ukraine. No other team is close. The figures look encouraging. Now let us sit back and await results. This week's game is a homage to those mind- sports prophets who set up the first chess Olympics at London in 1927.
Red (Czechoslovakia) – Grau (Argentina): First Chess Olympics, London 1927; Queen's Gambit Declined by transposition. 1 c4 c5 2 Nf3 Nf6 3 d4 d5 4 cxd5 cxd4 5 Qxd4 QxdS 6 Nc3 Qxd4 7 Nxd4 a6 8 g3 This kind of position can easily burn out to a draw. 8 e4 e5 produced nothing in the game Alekhine — Grunfeld, Baden Baden 1925. 8 . . . e5 9 Nb3 Nc6 A natural developing move but in the circumstances insufficiently sophisticated. Black could maintain the balance by opposing White's fianchettoed bishop with 9 . . . Bd7 10 Bg2 Bc6. 10 Bg2 Bd7 11 0-0 Bel After this move Black's game goes swiftly downhill. He had to prevent Whites next with 11 . . . h6. 12 Bg5 0-0 13 Rfd 1
Position after 15 . . . Rub8
Rfd8 14 Bxf6 gxf6 15 Nd5 Rab8 (Diagram) 16 Nc5!! A brilliant move which throws a harsh searchlight onto the manifold deficiencies of Black's structure. After 16 . . . BxcS 17 Nf6+ and 18 Nxd7 Black would face utter ruin. 16 . . . Kf8 17 Nxf6 Black resigns A piquant echo of his previous move. Whether Black plays 17 . . . BxcS or 17 . . . Bxf6 the answer 18 Nxd7+ is still crushing.
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