In the Olympics boxing arena, facts and fairness are taking a battering | Boxing

On a bustling Friday afternoon at the low-fi North Paris Arena, essentially transformed from a trade fair hall, the Paris 2024 boxing event presented one of the most polarizing, contentious, and largely misconstrued instances of these Olympics.

Indeed, this was a scandal. However, it may not be the sort of scandal many anticipated. Definition: a distorted or inaccurate portrayal of events. What was undeniably true in Paris was that we certainly witnessed one of those.

At 3:30 PM, Taiwan’s Lin Yu-ting entered the ring to face Sitora Turdibekova from Uzbekistan in the initial round of the women’s featherweight division. In an unusual twist to her previously routine existence, Lin did this under the scrutiny of Donald Trump, JK Rowling, and a worldwide audience caught up in a convoluted and heated ideological conflict where she stands as a nearly uninvolved player.

Let’s be unequivocal here: Lin is not, as far as anyone is aware, a transgender woman. Additionally, she is not male, as far as current knowledge goes, and has never altered her gender identity.

Lin was born female 28 years ago and competes under her original identification as a woman, further supported by a Taiwanese identity number assigned at birth that begins with a 2, indicating she was born a baby girl. Lin is a seasoned athlete, greatly respected in her homeland. Until a year ago, she likely had no inkling that this issue would consume her life.

Here’s what has transpired since then: During last year’s world championships, Lin took a swab test, which the International Boxing Association (IBA) claimed revealed a sufficient presence of male chromosomes, leading to her disqualification from the women’s event. This situation has started occurring more frequently in elite sports.

A similar case unfolded with Namibian runner Christine Mboma. Mboma grew up as a girl and a woman, discovered her talent for running, and when tested prior to the Tokyo Games, found out she was producing elevated levels of testosterone and could not have children, a condition she was previously unaware of.

She participated and earned a silver medal in the 200m at the Tokyo Games, but her subsequent ban from competition after World Athletics revised its guidelines appears peculiar when viewed in a more nuanced light—suggesting Sebastian Coe and others took it upon themselves to define what constitutes a woman comprehensively, not just externally but also internally. It could be argued that Mboma simply has an innate athletic ability akin to Usain Bolt.

The specifics concerning Lin remain uncertain. No one knows whether she, like Mboma, fits into the category labeled a DSD athlete, which refers to individuals with atypical biological traits that may offer competitive advantages.

One thing is distinctly evident: the situation has been incredibly challenging for both Lin and Algerian boxer Imane Khelif, who faced a similar outcome from an IBA test. Both women competed without incident in Tokyo and have been engaged in this level of competition for years. Khelif has a comparable history—she was born and raised as female, not involving herself in doping or attempting to assert a new gender identity.

Khelif also hails from Algeria, a nation that maintains strict anti-homosexuality laws and lacks a visible LGBTQ+ culture, support network, or progressive stance on these subjects. This is, by any reasonable standard, an astonishing predicament for a 25-year-old Algerian woman to navigate. How should one interpret or confront this situation?

Is this even a matter related to transgender individuals, as many have presumed? It is certainly a practical and sporting issue. Trans individuals undoubtedly deserve the overdue right to live authentically and pursue their desires. However, there are evident concerns regarding allowing individuals who have undergone testosterone-fueled male puberty to compete against those who have not in specific sports.

These issues are profoundly complex and essentially cannot be resolved easily. They involve equal rights, health concerns, wellbeing, and access to competition for young women. It’s a precarious balance of interests, requiring careful consideration, thought, and sensitivity from all parties; progress can only be made through mutual trust, respect, and a clarity on the facts.

Now, enter the various players involved. Here comes the evident incompetence and delay from the IOC in tackling this matter. Here arrive the frenzied online crowd and opportunistic politicians seeking a target to blame. Here comes a misinterpretation of the facts and pre-prepared arguments seeking an easy scapegoat.

Why is the author of the Harry Potter series involved in a detached and factually ambiguous dispute with the Taiwanese boxing community regarding the gender of an Olympic featherweight contender? What insights could Trump offer on this matter? Why are two groups, women concerned about their rights and trans individuals focused on their rights—who fundamentally share more common ground than differences—so entrenched in this conflict that a science-based debate about biology in women’s boxing turns into yet another high-stakes issue?

There was a palpable response to Khelif’s fight on Thursday. Unresolved questions regarding the safety of women in sports remain urgent. Yet, Khelif is also a woman born as such, and all indications suggest she has always identified as a woman.

Ultimately, the clear blame rests with the IOC’s dysfunctional boxing division, which has mishandled the situation with a bumbling and oddly confrontational sense of its own certainty. It lies with Thomas Bach, who seemingly hoped this controversy would fade away. It lies with the failure to establish a coherent policy, plan, and intellectual framework for the athletes. It lies with every pundit who has misinterpreted the situation, assumed it to be yet another familiar outrage, and dove in headfirst.

At this point, with the competition still taking place, there are no pragmatic answers. Perhaps witnessing Lin and Khelif as individuals, rather than symbols in an ideological conflict, could foster understanding. Another person deserving of empathy is Turdibekova, Lin’s opponent in Paris—a 22-year-old Uzbek whose idol is Muhammad Ali and whose aspiration is to secure a gold medal.

This won’t happen here. Lin emerged victorious in a standard points decision and will advance to compete in the last 16. At the finale, a swarm of media personnel pursued her toward the safety of the players’ area, and she left without uttering a word.

Her coach paused to share a few comments in Mandarin, appearing largely unfazed. When queried by an American journalist, his only reaction before retreating behind the barricades was a shrug followed by, “Hey. It’s the Olympic Games.” That statement, exceptionally amidst the current context, is undeniably accurate. This issue will persist, but perhaps it can evolve into a more civil discourse, exhibiting greater kindness toward the individuals involved, and be more firmly rooted in the facts.