Checkmate in Baguio City 1978 Baguio Convention Center

Monday, Oct. 30, 1978



Karpov wins despite Korchnoi's complaints

Chess, for the Soviet Union, is not just a game; it is a psychological weapon in Communism's cultural struggle with the West. Thus when World Champion Anatoli Karpov, 27, squared off against flamboyant Russian Defector Victor Korchnoi, 47, for the title and $550,000 in prizes at the remote Philippine resort of Baguio City three months ago, the Soviet chess establishment took no unnecessary risks. To give advice, they provided Karpov with a cadre of talented seconds. To ensure his privacy, they dispatched a crew of grim-faced security men, led by a cigar-chomping ex-KGB prosecutor. As its ultimate weapon, Moscow also sent along Dr. Vladimir Zoukhar, a neuropsychologist who is reputedly an expert in hypnosis.

Korchnoi's retinue was equally diverse. It included two young chess experts from England, an Austrian woman who reportedly had spent ten years in a Siberian prison after being convicted of spying for the U.S., and a young Belgian, known only as "Rasputin," whose job was to ward off Zoukhar's "evil eye." A former Soviet grand master who defected to the West two years ago, leaving his wife and son behind, Korchnoi was prepared for all of Moscow's ploys. So unnerving was the prospect of a Korchnoi victory to the Soviet press that it avoided mentioning him by name, referring whenever possible to "that traitor" or "the challenger."

According to International Chess Federation rules, the winner would be the first man to win six games (draws did not count). In the end, Karpov & Co. eked out a narrow six-to-five victory in the arduous 32-game match, fending off a spectacular late comeback by Korchnoi. The games themselves were unimpressive. Karpov stuck to the cautious approach that some commentators have dubbed "the boa constrictor" style; Korchnoi, taking far more risks, repeatedly ran into time trouble by nearly failing to make the required 40 moves in the first 2½ hours of play. "There was not a single game worth remembering," lamented England's international master Harry Golembeck. "It's a disgrace to chess."

The match had hardly begun when Korchnoi accused Karpov's assistants of sending the champion coded instructions inside snacks that he nibbled at during games. Complained Korchnoi: "A yogurt after 20 moves could mean 'We instruct you to decline a draw,' or a dish of marinated quails' eggs could mean 'Play knight to knight five at once.' " Thereafter, officials limited the champion's snacks to a single flavor of yogurt.

During early games, Karpov's neuropsychologist Zoukhar had sat in the front row of Baguio City's new amphitheater, staring disconcertingly at the challenger. After Korchnoi demanded that the doctor be expelled for trying to "hypnotize" him from a distance, officials ordered Zoukhar to sit in the back of the hall. To little avail. After 17 games, Karpov had built up a commanding 4-to-l lead.