March 26 1951
Hartford Courant, Hartford, Connecticut, Monday, March 26, 1951
Chess Match in Moscow
Most of the references to chess play in the news these days are figurative. We're told often —too often— that the men in the Kremlin look on the world as a chessboard. We hear the tired analogies about pawns, about checkmate, about the strategies and stratagems of chess. We hear about stalemate at the 38th Parallel.
All this is a bit wearying, to chess players and nonplayers alike. It's a relief to get back from global chess to a standard-size board, and rules of the game that have international standing. Now it happens that there are two men in Moscow today who have a vivid interest in manipulating pieces and pawns, in a perfectly literal sense.
One of those men is Mikhail Botvinnik, chess champion of the world. The other is another Russian, David Bronstein, recent winner of a monster tournament to pick a challenger for the title. Messrs. B. and B. are now, perhaps even at this very moment, bent over the board pondering the significance of each other's moves. For the world championship is at stake. This match is, to the Russians, the equivalent of our World Series.
Two games have already been contested in Moscow, and they've probably caused more excitement among the city's chess-playing citizens than all the bulletins from Korea. Nor is the interest confined to the Soviets. For one of the few activities in which the Russians have been willing (and able) to participate against the best the West can offer is chess. Both the champion and the challenger are well known in this country.
The future of the world does not depend on who wins this match. But isn't it somewhat comforting to know that even the Russians can find time for a few things these days that are not global in their significance? The pawns that Messrs. Botvinnik and Bronstein are moving about will not yield the answer to the riddle of peace or war. So much the better. On with the match, then, and may the better man win.
