There are few historical figures more capricious than a world chess champion. To achieve the title you have to possess extraordinary intelligence, be obsessed with work and have the will of a tyrant. The greatest champions, the great geniuses, are also characterized by the fact that they are not satisfied with being the best: almost all of them want to change the rules with which they reached the top. Coincidentally, access often becomes steeper for their successors. Transparency and democracy are still pending issues in world chess.
Magnus Carlsen is an honest champion, but he is not free from the same sins as his illustrious predecessors. They all arrive promising justice and then, with the crown on their heads, they devise changes in the mechanism of succession.
The Norwegian wants to modify the format and he wants to do it now: he intends a revolution that cannot be described as unfair, but that supposes a fundamental alteration of tradition. He wants the title match to alternate classical chess games with faster paced ones. If he doesn’t feel heard or valued, he may quit. He would lose a lot, but in this poker game FIDE seems the most scared side.
In its next meetings, the International Federation could approve these changes with the evident idea of avoiding the flight of the greatest current chess talent, whose popularity cannot be compared with that of any other chess player. There is the problem that we are in the middle of the cycle, with the Candidates tournament about to end. In a way, it would be changing the rules in the middle of the test.
Would it be possible? The players involved, Magnus Carlsen and the Russian Ian Nepomniachtchi, winner in Madrid with one round remaining, have not yet received the contract proposal. That’s what FIDE can hold on to: players wouldn’t have their terms changed, though this may just be a technicality.
It is not known how the applicant will react to Carlsen’s idea, if it succeeds. In any case, improvisation is evident throughout the process. If there is consensus, at least a new world war of the boards will be avoided, a constant in an organization that is about to celebrate a century of life.
FIDE (Fédération Internationale des Échecs) was born in Paris in 1924, but in its early years the Soviets continued to eat on their side and it hardly served any purpose other than creating a nice motto. The ‘Gens una sumus’ is still valid, not always for the better: in effect, they are a family in which they take care of each other, betray each other and, above all, try to ensure that the inheritances are never taken away by someone from the outside.
Until the middle of the last century, when Alexander Alekhine died (or was killed) in 1946, with the crown still in his possession, FIDE did not even serve to organize the world chess championship. Afterwards, he has not stopped changing the format, the periodicity and whatever was necessary, because the champions continue to impose their criteria. At the very least, they try.
The first FIDE champion, the Soviet Mikhail Botvinnik, lasted longer than he should have thanks to his privileges. Among his privileges, two clauses worthy of boxing stood out: in case of a tie he kept the title (what they did with David Bronstein went a little further, because it is believed that they somehow forced him not to win), and in case of defeat, the champion was entitled to a rematch duel.
For decades, the world saw only Soviet champions. They were the best and they also made sure that in the Candidates tournaments one of them always won. FIDE didn’t think that was a bad thing, until Bobby Fischer showed that a league in which half the players are from the same country is subject to all sorts of shenanigans.
The American was key to improving the system, but he was the king of whims before and after winning the title from Boris Spassky, just half a century ago. The Russian allowed him too many things because he did not want to lose the opportunity to play against the myth. Then, Fischer continued to tighten the rope like a champion and ended up breaking it. For once, FIDE could not accept his impositions. Anatoly Karpov received the title of champion without playing and legitimacy had to be earned on his account. As we know, that ended badly for the American, who ended up half crazy, persecuted by Interpol and imprisoned in Japan, until he died in Iceland in unfortunate conditions.
The blow to the federation’s credit was also tremendous, a circumstance aggravated by Dvorkovich’s predecessors in FIDE, the Filipino Florencio Campomanes and the former president of the Republic of Kalmykia, Kirsán Iliumzhínov, a guy who seriously declared that chess was a alien invention.
The 1978 World Cup was a scandal in itself, with cults, parapsychologists and foul play. One day the Spanish public will be able to see the film shot in Russia last year, which tells the ins and outs of the duel between Karpov and Viktor Korchnoi in the Philippine city of Baguio. The script seems to be written by the mother of the first, but the production is solvent and the essentials of the story are told quite well.
In 1985, Campomanes was involved in one of the biggest scandals in chess, when he unilaterally suspended the first final between Karpov and Kasparov. So, the champion had to win six games against the rival, not counting the draws. After five months of exhausting fighting, the FIDE president appealed to the physical and psychological exhaustion of the players to justify the suspension. The two Russians protested angrily. Karpov led 5-3 but seemed on the brink of collapse after two straight losses. To know who they hurt more.
Of course, in the following World Cups another format was used; none last long. Already with Kasparov as champion, in 1993 the great schism of world chess was experienced. Despite his rank as a democrat and the fact that he saw before anyone else that Putin would not bring anything good, the ‘son of change’ mortally wounded FIDE when he created the PCA (Professional Chess Association) in 1993 with the help of the British Nigel Short . Since that year, two cycles have been lived in parallel, with devastating consequences for FIDE, which are still paid, long after the reunification, already in the 20th century.
Until then, Kasparov had the alibi that he helped kick out a not-so-clean leader, like Campomanes, but afterwards he didn’t behave much better. Alexei Shirov, the victim of the ‘Cazorla scam’, still does not want to talk about it, at least while he continues as an active player. At the moment, he is limited to using two words, “corrupt and fraudulent”, to define what happened.
In 1998, the Spanish chess player of Latvian origin defeated Vladimir Kramnik in the PCA Parallel Candidates final. That gave him the right to challenge Kasparov for the most prestigious title at that time, but the Russian put all the obstacles in the world, since he believed that Shirov was not media enough to get good sponsors. Fed up with waiting, Alexei gave up, and Kasparov soon came to terms with his protégé. Kramnik then took Garry by surprise, while Shirov was stunned to see that he had been robbed of a historic occasion and a not inconsiderable amount of money. There was a trial, but to no avail.
And we come to Magnus Carlsen, who also feels that chess and FIDE owe him more consideration. The current champion and undisputed number one was tactless enough to suggest that he is bored by his peers and that he may not defend his title. For the Federation of Arkady Dvorkovich, the best president in recent times but also a man noted for his links with the Russian Government, it would be a definite setback to lose the number one to his cause. He has recruited Vishy Anand and, in exchange, has lost Nigel Short, a key player in the last three decades.
Everything agreed could go to waste if the FIDE elections, which will be held during the next Olympiad, in August in Chennai (Anand’s hometown), do not win Dvorkovich’s candidacy. Nothing new would happen either: others will arrive and the rules will change.
For now, the only certainty is that Magnus Carlsen will fly to Las Vegas to play the main tournament of the World Series of Poker. Let no one rule him out for victory. He knows how to bet big and bluff like a master. Stranger was when he won an accountant named Moneymaker, the origin of the world boom in Texas Holdem.
