Lance Armstrong: It was more than the bike.

As London’s carnival of sport comes to an end with the closing ceremony of the Paralympics, the city will close the curtain to what will be seen as a defining summer not only for sport, but for the nation as a whole. Team GB’s success in harnessing the public’s attention and its ability to capture medals, many of them gold, will ensure that the London Olympics will be recognised as the most success modern games on record.

Even the achievements of our Paralympians have exceeded expectations. The British public have filled out the arenas and have continued to enjoy the relentless success. Many commentators are arriving at the belief that all athletes should be held as equals, despite any physical or mental handicap. And, whilst the athletes would prefer journalists to ask questions about their training and their hopes for the games, for most, it would be odd not to ask about their disability. This year’s games have seen injured members of the armed forces to a survivor from the 7 July terrorist bombings in London; all with unique and harrowing stories.

Whilst we marvel and are inspired by their success, a man who overcame his own challenges and rose to the top, inspiring millions along the way, has seen his reputation dissipate before him. Lance Armstrong, the cancer surviving cyclist, who went on to win Tour de France seven times, announced in August that he would not be challenging charges made by the U.S. Anti-Doping Agency (USADA) in relation to doping offences during his cycling career. In doing so, Armstrong has been banned for life from the sport and all his successes, including medals and victories, will be stricken from the record books.

The subsequent press release from Armstrong signalled that he had spent his entire professional life fighting against doubters and doomsayers and that ‘enough is enough’. Armstrong felt that the ensuing investigations and allegations were having an effect on his family life and towards the work of his foundation. This in effect was not a confession of guilt, but a submission to the investigation.

Yet, as most involved in the sport point out, this is very un-Armstrong like. The Texan was renowned for his combative spirit, as well determination to take on obstacles. He fought his battle with cancer as he did when ascending the Alps; with the ultimate goal of winning. Why then is he suddenly stopping the pursuit?

It is likely that the investigations will uncover the scale of doping, not only committed by Armstrong, but by the whole US Postal Service team – maybe wider. Examinations and testimonies will apparently reveal that Armstrong was part of cycling’s dirty secret. Sport’s ultimate survivor did not possess superhuman qualities, but was tainted like many of others in the sport. Perhaps the prospect of seeing these allegations thrown at him in the courtroom was a step too far?

Undoubtedly, Armstrong will remain defiant despite what is thrown at him. Beyond witness testimony, there is no scientific proof of his guilt.

And it is that defiance which ultimately prevents Armstrong from saying anything further.

Anyone who has read his first autobiography ‘It’s Not About the Bike’, would not be moved by the American’s overcoming of cancer. His subsequent Livestrong foundation has helped raise millions of pounds and much more in awareness of the disease. Armstrong’s philosophy was that anyone can beat cancer and who knows how many it inspired in their own fight. This is perhaps where his reluctance-cum-intransigence stems from. Perhaps Armstrong feels that a confession of guilt would undermine his beliefs and everything the foundation represents. Not only would his reputation as an athlete be tarnished, but so too the charity he believes in anymore.

Are there any other precedents? It is now over a decade since the South African cricket captain Hansie Cronje died in an airplane crash. Cronje, a man who had led the country out of the sporting wilderness of Apartheid, inspiring millions of South Africans helped the team become one of the most feared sides in the 1990s. Yet, Cronje’s reputation was destroyed after allegations of match-fixing led to his ultimate confession in front of a South African courtroom. Cronje, a man of international standing, wept as he relayed his involvement in illegal match-fixing syndicates.

Cronje’s decision to confess all, perhaps partly down to the history of truth and reconciliation in South Africa, illustrated his willingness to confront the mistakes he had made and for the better of the game. His own personal reputation would forever be tarnished, even after his death. Yet people still recognise Cronje for his work to help rebuild South Africa, particularly his work in black townships, despite the match-fixing.

For Armstrong this is not even worth considering. He rode from the front in his career and it appears it is where he will remain.

Venuste Niyongabo: How one man gave Burundi hope.

Burundi is a country that does not stir the popular imagination for most people in the world. Situated in Central Africa, with a population of just over ten million, the small landlocked country seldom gathers the news headlines.

In April 1994, a flight returning from Dar es Salaam, Tanzania, was approaching the airport in Kigali, Rwanda. On board were the Rwandan President, Juvenal Habyarimana and Burundian President, Cyprien Ntaryamira, returning from UN peace negotiations in Arusha. As the plane approached to land, it was hit by two surface-to-air missiles, exploding immediately. All twelve passengers on board were killed instantly. Few could have foreseen what would happen next. In the following 100 days, around 800,000 ethnic Tutsis and Hutus were butchered as Rwanda imploded into a cauldron of murder. Thousands were hacked to death by machetes and millions more were displaced, all the while the world stood still.

The neglect and the shame have meant that the world eternally remembers Rwanda, yet no one remembers Burundi.

Even before 1994, Burundi had suffered its own internal conflict. For decades, ethnic Hutus had suffered economically and politically under the existing regimes. Yet in 1991, a non-ethnic Parliament and new constitution was agreed, and in 1993 the country elected its first Hutu President, Melchior Ndadaye. Hope quickly dissipated. Within three months Ndadaye was assassinated by Tutsi extremists. The death of Ntaryamira and violence in Rwanda only made the situation worse.

Yet one Burundian held different aspirations. Venuste Niyongabo, a Tutsi from the south of the country, was preparing for the Summer Olympics to be held in Atlanta, Georgia. As one of the world’s poorest countries, Burundi did not have a proud sporting reputation. It sent its first athlete to the 1988 games in Seoul and only formed the country’s Olympic committee in 1993. With few televisions in Burundi, Niyongabo had no idea what to expect of the games. Not only was he was to compete in the 5000m, against the feared Kenyans but in a race that he had only ran twice before!

For athletes nowadays, the biggest fear before entering into a big competition is injury. For Niyongabo, a week before the 5000m finals, he learnt that Burundi had suffered yet another military coup d’état. With few details and poor communications with the world, the Burundian delegation in Atlanta had no idea what was going on back home. Niyongabo had no idea what was happening with his family.

Yet on 3 August the as the athletes prepared to run, at the height of a civil war, the Burundian nation stopped to listen to their radios. According to some reports, rebels refused orders as they listened to Niyongabo compete. It was to become a special day for the whole nation as their man beat all the favourites to stroll home and take gold, the country’s first Olympic medal. It caused great celebration within the Olympic village as everyone partied. According to one report, the Burundian Minister danced despite the fact he was no longer a Minister.

The world, now fully aware of African conflicts and obsessed by tribal enmities, asked Niyongabo whether his win was for the Hutus or the Tutsis? Niyongabo replied that his win was for the whole country.

Burundi did not suddenly drop arms and stop the conflict. The ugly civil war continued for almost another decade, killing around 300,000 people and displacing many thousands more. Yet reports unravelled, similar to the Christmas Day truce in World War One, that on that day soldiers were told not to fire their weapons and celebrate Niyongabo’s success.

Niyongabo never went onto gain the same success as he did in Atlanta that night. His career was blighted by injuries. Yet he spurred on a legacy for which he can be proud. Burundi has sent athletes to every Olympic Games since 1996 and continues to emulate the victory of its only Olympic medal. Niyongabo now lives in Italy where he helps promote friendship and fraternity through sport. We can only hope that in London we see the same.