The exception has become increasingly difficult to sustain
Four years after Russia's invasion of Ukraine reshaped the boundaries of international sport, the Winter Paralympics in Milan-Cortina have become the first major stage to welcome Russian and Belarusian athletes back under their own flags and anthems. The International Paralympic Committee, by a narrow but decisive vote, determined that the conditions justifying exclusion had sufficiently changed — a judgment that not all nations accept. In the architecture of global competition, this moment is less a resolution than a hinge: the past has not been forgotten, but the door that was shut in urgency is now, carefully, being reopened.
- A 91-77 IPC vote reversed a ban that had stood since the first days of the Ukraine invasion, reigniting a fierce debate about whether sport can be separated from the conduct of states.
- Ukraine, Germany, Poland, the Baltic nations, the Netherlands, and the Czech Republic are boycotting Friday's opening ceremony, turning what should be a celebration into a fractured and conspicuously empty hall.
- The IPC's president argues the original justification — Russia actively weaponizing Paralympic symbols to promote the war — had measurably diminished by 2025, making continued exclusion harder to defend on its own terms.
- Russia is simultaneously negotiating with the IOC for Olympic reintegration, offering concessions over Donbas athletes as a bargaining chip, suggesting this Paralympic moment is the leading edge of a broader thaw.
- Spain will compete, fielding eight athletes including alpine skier Audrey Pascual as flag-bearer, navigating the ceremony's political turbulence with quiet participation rather than protest.
Four years after the invasion of Ukraine prompted the fastest and most sweeping expulsion of a nation from international sport in modern memory, Russia crosses back into the arena. This Friday in Milan-Cortina, Russian and Belarusian athletes will march at the Winter Paralympics opening ceremony — flags raised, anthems ready — in what is the first major international competition to formally readmit them since February 2022.
The International Paralympic Committee reached this point through a narrow vote: 91 in favor, 77 opposed, eight abstentions. IPC president Andrew Parsons offered a careful rationale — that Russia and Belarus had, in 2022 and 2023, actively used Paralympic athletes and symbols to promote the war effort, and that a two-year suspension was imposed with the explicit understanding it would be reviewed. By 2025, he said, the evidence of that abuse had faded enough to justify reintegration.
Not everyone accepts that logic. Ukraine will not attend the ceremony. Neither will Estonia, Latvia, Finland, the Netherlands, Poland, the Czech Republic, or Germany. Canada and the United Kingdom cited scheduling conflicts. France will send no political delegation. The opening ceremony in Verona's arena will carry the unmistakable shape of a protest — presence and absence alike making arguments.
Spain, for its part, will participate. Its eight-athlete delegation, led by alpine skier Audrey Pascual as flag-bearer, will enter a ceremony that is simultaneously a sporting celebration and a geopolitical statement.
The IPC and IOC are separate institutions, and this decision does not automatically cascade into Olympic policy or the rules of individual federations. But the symbolic weight is real. Russia is already in talks with the IOC about Olympic reintegration, and has offered concessions — including allowing athletes from Russian-controlled Donbas to compete under any flag — as part of those negotiations. The long freeze in international sport is not over, but in Milan-Cortina this week, it is visibly beginning to crack.
Four years have passed since Vladimir Putin ordered the invasion of Ukraine, and in that time, the Russian flag has not flown at any major international sporting competition. The decision came swiftly in February 2022—within ten days of the invasion's start—when the International Olympic Committee and the broader sports establishment moved with unusual speed to expel Russian and Belarusian athletes from nearly every global event. It was a dramatic move, born of the moment's urgency, but it has become increasingly difficult to sustain as the war grinds on without resolution and as sports authorities grow weary of the exception.
This Friday in Milan-Cortina, that exception ends. Russian and Belarusian athletes will walk into the opening ceremony of the Winter Paralympics, their flags raised, their anthems played. It marks the first major international sports competition to readmit Russia since the invasion began—a threshold that judo crossed in November, but one that carries far greater symbolic weight when applied to the Paralympics.
The International Paralympic Committee voted to allow the reintegration in its most recent general assembly, though the decision was far from unanimous. The count was 91 in favor, 77 opposed, with eight abstentions. Andrew Parsons, the IPC's president, explained the reasoning in an interview: Russia and Belarus had weaponized the Paralympic movement itself in 2022 and 2023, using athletes and committee symbols to promote the war effort. The evidence had been clear. A two-year suspension was imposed with the understanding that it would be reviewed. By 2025, Parsons said, the evidence of such abuse had diminished.
The decision has fractured the opening ceremony. Ukraine, unsurprisingly, announced it would not attend. Then came Estonia, Latvia, Finland, the Netherlands, Poland, the Czech Republic, and Germany. Canada and the United Kingdom cited scheduling conflicts—several of their athletes compete the following day. France will send no political representation. The ceremony in Verona's arena will be notably thinner than it might have been.
Spain, barring a last-minute reversal, will participate. The Spanish delegation brings eight athletes: Audrey Pascual, a skier who will carry the flag and is considered the team's best medal prospect; Iraide Rodríguez, Javier Marcos, María Martín-Granizo, and Alejandra Requesens with her guide Victoria Ibáñez, all competing in alpine skiing; Emilio Redondo in snowboard; and Higinio Rivero in cross-country skiing and biathlon.
The IPC and the International Olympic Committee operate as separate entities, bound by contracts of understanding but otherwise autonomous, with different governance structures and rulebooks. The Paralympic reintegration of Russia—affecting roughly eight athletes—does not automatically influence Olympic decisions or the international federations tied to them, such as FIFA, FIBA, or the cycling union. Yet the symbolic weight is undeniable. The IPC's approval opens a door that others have been watching closely.
Russia is already in negotiations with the IOC about its own Olympic return. The Olympic movement had justified its ban by arguing that Russia's national committee had interfered with Ukraine's participation in competitions. Russia has responded by pledging to grant athletes from the Donbas region—which Russia controls militarily—the freedom to compete under whatever flag they choose. It is a concession offered in exchange for readmission, and it signals that the long freeze in international sports may be beginning to thaw.
Citas Notables
Russia and Belarus used the Paralympic movement, athletes, and committee symbols to promote the war. The suspension was for two years with a review condition. By 2025, there was less evidence of such abuse.— Andrew Parsons, president of the International Paralympic Committee
La Conversación del Hearth Otra perspectiva de la historia
Why did the International Paralympic Committee reverse course when the Olympic Committee hasn't?
The IPC argued that the evidence of Russia weaponizing the movement had weakened by 2025. But there's also a practical difference—the Paralympics are smaller, less politically entrenched. The Olympics carry more weight, more money, more nations watching. The IPC could move first.
What does this mean for the athletes themselves?
For Russian and Belarusian competitors, it's a return to the world stage after years of isolation. For Ukrainian athletes, it's a betrayal—they see their country's suffering being treated as a temporary inconvenience to sports schedules. For everyone else, it's a test of principle versus pragmatism.
Is this really about the athletes, or is it about politics?
It's both, inseparably. Sports organizations claim neutrality, but they're never neutral. They're responding to pressure from governments, sponsors, and public opinion. The IPC's vote was split almost evenly—that tells you how contested this is.
What happens next?
Watch the Olympics. If the IOC follows the IPC's lead, the sanctions regime effectively collapses. Russia gets back in, and the message is that international isolation has an expiration date. If the IOC holds firm, you have a split system—one pathway for Paralympics, another for Olympics—which is unstable and won't last long.
And the athletes from Donbas that Russia mentioned?
That's the real negotiation. Russia is offering to let those athletes compete under Ukraine's flag as a condition for readmission. It's a calculated move—it looks magnanimous while keeping control of the territory itself. Whether Ukraine accepts that trade-off is still an open question.