By Qais Aljoan
Context. La Vuelta a España is one of cycling’s three Grand Tours. On 3 September 2025, the Bilbao stage was partially neutralized after pro-Palestinian protesters targeted the presence of Israel–Premier Tech. The UCI reaffirmed “political neutrality.” This essay examines that stance against the swift bans applied to Russia and Belarus in 2022 — and what that says about neutrality when it becomes selective.
The partial suspension of Stage 11 of La Vuelta in Bilbao exposed a dilemma sport can no longer dodge: can “political neutrality” be proclaimed when selective boycotts are applied to some countries while systematic violations by others are ignored?
In 2022, after Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, the international sporting community’s reaction was immediate. Federations, leagues and organizers decided to exclude Russian and Belarusian teams and athletes. In cycling, the International Cycling Union (UCI) itself barred their teams from international competitions. The reason then was clear: sport cannot be indifferent to military aggression or serve as a propaganda showcase for a state that violates international law.
The contrast with what happened in Bilbao is stark. Israel–Premier Tech, flagged by many protesters as a symbol of sport-washing by a state accused of war crimes in Gaza and the West Bank, competed as normal despite repeated warnings. It was not the first protest: from the opening stages there were blockades, banners and scuffles. Tension escalated to the point of neutralizing a finish and leaving riders and officers injured.
The UCI’s response, however, differed from that applied to Russia and Belarus: it reaffirmed “political neutrality” and condemned the protest. In other words, it punished those who denounce, not the party that raises the ethical question.
Here lies the contradiction. If sport justified the boycott of Russia as an act of moral coherence and solidarity with Ukraine, why should the same measure not apply amid the devastation in Gaza? Is international law applied according to geography, or according to the weight of allies in global geopolitics?
The neutrality argument loses force when it is applied selectively. In reality, it is a political-economic calculation: Russia was internationally isolated, while Israel enjoys the backing of the United States and much of the European Union. The UCI does not operate in a vacuum: it answers to sponsors, financial interests and diplomatic pressures.
The result is corrosive. When neutrality becomes complicity, sport ceases to be a universal space and turns into a shop window conditioned by lobbying power. Those who end up paying the price are the riders themselves, turned into cannon fodder for institutional incoherence.
The question, then, is not whether a boycott of Israel is warranted: ethically, yes — the same criteria used to ban Russia apply to the occupation and attacks in Palestine. The real question is whether sporting institutions are willing to bear the political and economic cost. For now, all signs point to no.
Bilbao leaves us with an uncomfortable lesson: neutrality in sport no longer exists — and when proclaimed, it is often selective. If sanctions are applied to some and forgiveness to others, what breaks is not only coherence but the moral credibility of the entire international sports system.
Qais Aljoan
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