advocacy
The 1968 Olympics arrived in Mexico City during one of the most turbulent years of the twentieth century. Across the world, student uprisings, civil rights movements, anti-war protests, and Cold War tensions were reshaping politics. Mexico itself was facing widespread demonstrations demanding democratic reform. Ten days before the Games began, the Mexican government opened fire on thousands of student protesters in the Tlatelolco Plaza, killing and injuring hundreds. As athletes arrived, the city was trying to present calm on the surface while hiding deep political unrest underneath.
This tension shaped everything that happened during the Games. Mexico wanted to use the Olympics to signal economic growth and national stability, but the world stepping into the capital saw a country caught between modernization and authoritarianism. The contrast between the official image and the reality outside the stadium made the political gestures of athletes feel even more urgent.
It was within this atmosphere that the most iconic moment of athlete activism in Olympic history occurred. During the medal ceremony for the 200-meter race, American sprinters Tommie Smith and John Carlos stepped onto the podium wearing black shoes with no shoes to represent poverty, and Olympic Project for Human Rights badgdes to highlight racial injustice. As the national anthem began, each raised a gloved fist in gesture associated with Black empowerment and the struggle for civil rights. The act was planned, intentional, and rooted in a broader movement led by athletes who wanted to challenge racism both within the United States and across the world of sport.
The reaction was immediate. Under pressure from the International Olympic Committee, Smith and Carlos were expelled from the Games and forced to leave the Olympic Village. When they returned home, they faced public criticism, lost jobs, and received death threats. Their gesture, however, became an enduring image of resistance: proof that athletes could use the Olympic stage to force the world to confront racial injustice. Standing beside them was Australian silver medalist Peter Norman, who wore an OPHR badge in solidarity. Norman’s support led to years of ostracism in Australia, showing that even quiet gestures carried consequences.
The political tensions of 1968 extended beyond the podium. After the Soviet invasion of Czechoslovakia earlier that year, Czech gymnast Vera Cáslavská refused to face the Soviet flag during medal ceremonies, offering her own silent protest. South Africa remained banned from the Olympics because of its apartheid policies, reflecting growing pressure on the IOC to take stronger stances on racial inequality. Even the environment of the Games became political: Mexico City’s high altitude created unprecedented performance conditions, sparking debates over fairness, physiology, and advantage in international sport.
These moments made clear that the Olympics were no longer just a place to measure athletic ability: they had become a platform where athletes could reflect the world’s struggles back to a global audience. Smith and Carlos didn’t interrupt the Olympics; they revealed what had always existed beneath the surface: a stage where national image, identity, and justice are constantly in negotiation. Their protest, set against a year marked by upheaval, pushed the Olympics into a new era of activism and forced audiences to see athletes not only as competitors but as people shaped by the political realities around them.
The 1968 Mexico City Games showed that when the world is watching, athletes have the power to challenge assumptions, expose inequality, and speak across borders. It stands as one of the clearest reminders that the Olympics, no matter how much they claim neutrality, have always been shaped by the politics of their time, and by those courageous enough to challenge them.