The secret Russians at the Paris Olympics

Officially, Russia is banned from sending a team under its name and flag for the fourth consecutive Olympics. This time, however, the reason isn’t related to the country’s epic state-sponsored doping scandal, but rather Russia’s 2022 invasion of Ukraine.

As it did during all of the previous bans since 2014, the IOC created a pathway for athletes from Russia—and in this case Belarus—to compete, but not under their country’s flag or colors. All the Russian competitors had to do this time was submit applications as Individual Neutral Athletes and prove that they didn’t support the Russian invasion of Ukraine or have active ties to the military.

Not many passed muster, however. By the Opening Ceremony on Friday, just 15 Russians will be entered into the Games as neutral athletes.

But it turns out that number is merely an illusion: There will, in fact, be dozens of Russian-born athletes in Paris. They will just be flying the flags of other countries, with many having recently acquired new nationalities to get around the numerous sanctions imposed on Russian sports. They made their life-changing decisions as soon as they could, long before the IOC formalized the status of independent athletes last December.

Russian commentators have dubbed the nationality-switchers “The Lost Generation."

Some Russian fans are rooting for them—but others view them as traitors. Meanwhile, the athletes who were granted neutral status are also taking heat from top Russian officials. Stanislav Pozdnyakov, the head of Russia’s Olympic Committee, recently excoriated the clutch of high-profile Russian tennis players, including world No. 5 Daniil Medvedev, appearing in Paris as neutrals. He called them “a team of foreign agents."

Wrestler Georgii Okorokov is among the wave of Russian athletes who exported themselves to other countries. He’ll compete in the green and gold of Australia while being cheered from his birthplace, the Yakutia region of Russia, which happens to be one of the coldest regions in the world—and more than 6,000 miles from Sydney.

“Sensation in the history of Yakutia sports," a local Yakutia news site blared in May, after Okorokov qualified for the Games. “The fans rejoice!"

Okorokov, 27, switched allegiances after the Russian invasion of February 2022. Russia’s sports ministry said last August that 67 athletes have changed nationality since the start of 2022. But some independent observers suggest that is an understatement, putting the real number as high as 200, including some in non-Olympic sports such as chess.

The Journal was able to confirm examples of at least 18 Russians who changed nationality after the Ukraine invasion and are now set to compete in Paris. According to Russian sports website Sport-Express, there are 58 athletes with Russian roots who have qualified to compete at the Games, with some having changed their citizenship years ago. “A fully-fledged big team," the website said.

Back home, they have incurred the fury of top sports officials who view them as traitors.

“We must understand that the achievements of our athletes were made, among other things, thanks to Russia, Russian and Soviet sports schools. The country invested resources, potential, and knowledge into them," Dmitry Svishchev, chairman of the State Duma Committee on Physical Culture and Sports, said last year.

“Therefore, I personally find it unpleasant when guys, as it seems to me, get excited, rush and go to play for another country," he said.

Pozdnyakov blamed IOC rules for the wave of passport switchers and said that other nations were “pushing" and “enticing" Russian athletes to change their nationality. While officials from President Vladimir Putin down have criticized the neutral status as discriminatory and unfair, the government has stopped short of calling for a Paris boycott.

“I won’t even call it a shame, but a betrayal of my country," senior Russian gymnastics coach Valentina Rodionenko said in December.

When swimmer Anastasiia Kirpichnikova, who trained at the Ural State University of Physical Culture, announced last year that she would now compete for France, the president of the Russian Swimming Federation Vladimir Salnikov said that he wouldn’t judge her, but that we “were raised differently."

Yet the athletes who have spent their entire lives honing their crafts for a shot at the Olympics argue that they were left without a choice. Switching allegiances isn’t always a political statement, they say. It’s merely a pathway to their dream competition at a time when Russia is a global sports pariah.

The country has been under some form of Olympic sanction for the past four Games, following the revelation of a state-sponsored doping scheme at the 2014 Winter Olympics in Sochi. At various points, Russian athletes were either excluded or required to compete not under their own country’s flag, but under a neutral flag or monikers such as “Russian Olympic Committee."

Until then, Russia had viewed itself as too big to fail at the Olympics. Since the days of the Soviet Union, the country had almost always sent one of the biggest delegations to the Games. At London 2012—the last Olympics that it didn’t host or enter under sanctions—Russia entered 429 athletes, third only to the U.S. and the host country, Great Britain. Even as the Russian Olympic Committee in Tokyo, where it competed without its flag or its national anthem, Russia’s 330-strong team racked up the third-most medals behind Team USA and China.

Not all international sports federations allowed Russians even to enter as neutrals. So they sought options elsewhere.

Marathoner Sardana Trofimova, another athlete from Yakutia, has been left on the outside looking in for two Olympic cycles. At 36, she knew that her dream of running at the Games was expiring. So Trofimova is now representing Kyrgyzstan.

She missed Rio 2016 when World Athletics imposed a blanket ban on Russians. Five years later, she had run another Olympic marathon qualifying time, but wasn’t one of the handful of Russian track and field athletes allowed in the Tokyo Games. Now, with Russians completely barred from track and field events in Paris, Trofimova saw that her only chance to make it to the Games was to change her passport.

“Yes, this is my life, my time and my decision," she said on social media.

Like Trofimova, many of the nationality-switchers have chosen former Soviet republics, where it’s often easier for Russians to obtain a passport and where Russian is widely spoken.

Diver Igor Myalin switched from Russia to Uzbekistan last year to be able to attend competitions and training camps abroad. The 27-year old, who recently won two gold medals at the World Cup 2024 in Germany, has said that he misses his homeland but that his Olympics dream takes priority.

“For many athletes, playing sports is the main goal, and which country to compete for is not so important," he told reporters in June. “For an athlete, the goal itself is the Olympics."

Not every Russian-born athlete feels that the tradeoff is worth it. Not only do they feel that they are giving in to what they perceive to be bullying from the West—they also fear reprisals at home if they compete under anything but the Russian flag.

Russian wrestlers, who have dominated the sport by winning the most medals at 13 of the 18 Olympic Games since World War II, declared this month that they would refuse to travel to Paris in protest of the IOC’s policy after initially accepting its invitation. And swimmer Evgeny Rylov also announced that he would not be defending the two gold medals he won in Tokyo if he had to compete as a neutral.

“I’m not going to stoop to the level of Western provocateurs," Rylov told a Russian sports television channel. “I refuse to go to the Olympic Games until all this nonsense settles to the bottom and our water becomes clean again."

Meanwhile, Russia has tried unsuccessfully to offer its athletes some counterprogramming to the Olympics. First it attempted to revive the World Friendship Games, 40 years after holding the event for the socialist states that boycotted the 1984 Summer Games in Los Angeles. The multisport competition, which the IOC had urged countries boycott, was set to take place in September, until it was recently postponed until next year.

Then Russia hosted the Brics Games in June. Held in Kazan on the banks of the River Volga, the event was organized for the Brics nations, including Brazil, Russia, India, China and South Africa, alongside dozens of other countries. But most of the athletes ended up hailing from Russia and Belarus, with some events canceled due to poor turnout.

Those that did go ahead were dominated by Russians. Artistic swimmer Alexandr Maltsev won two gold medals and celebrated with all the pomp and circumstance that Russians are prohibited from displaying at the Olympics. He wore the Russian crest on his heart and puffed out his chest when he heard the national anthem.

Yet something about the victory at these parallel Olympics still felt hollow: across his two events, Maltsev had faced just one other competitor.

When he collected one of his medals for Russia, he stood on the podium, all by himself.

Write to Joshua Robinson at Joshua.Robinson@wsj.com and Georgi Kantchev at georgi.kantchev@wsj.com

Top Photo Illustration: Chase Gaewski/WSJ; Shutterstock; Getty Images (2); Reuters