Topalov Kramnik 2006 World Chess Championship: On the Edge in Elista

compensation

Introduction

by Veselin Topalov

I'm in Salamanca at the moment, the day after my 32nd birthday. The date is March 16, 2007. The Linares-Morelia chess tournament finished less than a week ago and there my results and play were considerably below expectations. There are almost two months until my next tournament. For the first time in ten years, I will not play in the annual Monaco tournament. This is a planned break. I played too much over the last year and a half. Much has happened in the meantime.

I don't like annotating chess games very much, but Silvio told me that it was a requirement for this English edition. With all the demands I've had on my time, I won't claim to have written a great book. I do not claim that the game annotations are perfect; this is practically impossible, but I have tried to explain the reasons I made certain key moves, what I was thinking at that moment that prompted the move whether good or bad. Neither in my view of the match as a whole do I claim to be totally objective, but readers should find it interesting to learn about my personal experiences and feelings during those weeks in Elista.

I have tried to make sure that what I've written makes sense. Before commenting on the specific games, I would like to share my views on chess history, on the current state of chess, and on what is likely to happen in the near future.

I haven't read any of Garry Kasparov's My Great Predecessors, so I don't know if he has already discussed any of these things, or how his point of view might differ from mine. Having played in most of the major tournaments and championships of this decade, I would like to share the impressions and the conclusions which I and my manager, Silvio Danailov, have reached in the course of our 15-year association.

The World Championship and FIDE

The world of chess is a strange one. I don't know how it is in other sports, but in chess the title World Champion has always been prestigious. The holders of this title were accepted by the elite with great respect. Chess is considered to be simultaneously a sport, a science, and an art, and to play it well was perceived as a sign of intelligence. From about the time of Anderssen and Morphy (mid-19th century) on, the champions were acknowledged as geniuses, and their best games had the status of works of art.

At the same time the world title was more or less the private property of the champion, a commodity he used as he saw fit. That was the situation until Alexander Alekhine passed away in 1946. That was the moment when, in my opinion, chess became a real sport. The Fédération Internationale Des Échecs (FIDE) organized the 1948 Hague-Moscow Match Tournament between the five best grandmasters of that time. The winner was the first World Champion from the USSR, Mikhail Botvinnik.

From then until 1993, FIDE had an orderly system under which seven more players won the championship. By orderly system I mean FIDE's 3-year cycle of qualifying events to produce a challenger and hold the championship match. This regular cycle contrasted with the pre-FIDE period, when for example ten years elapsed between the second Lasker-Steinitz match (1896-7) and the Lasker-Marshall match (1907), and eleven years between Lasker-Janowski 1910 and Lasker-Capablanca 1921. The other big difference after 1948 was that the challenger was determined by a series of qualifying events, and the champion had no option but to play him. It's no secret that many great players of the past had no chance to compete for the title due to lack of money. The challenger had to provide a financial stake satisfactory to the champion, or there was no match. Great players such as Rubinstein and Nimzovitch could not find sponsors and there was no other way to get a shot at the title.

It's a pity, but FIDE did continue to grant one more privilege to the incumbent champion, and it's significant: it was enough for the champion only to draw a match to keep his title. I would like to discuss this in more detail.

In my opinion the champion must aim to prove that he is better than other players, to demonstrate this by results, without special privileges. In chess history, both before and after 1948, there were drawn matches in which the champion kept his title. It was not clear who was the better player. Schlechter and Bronstein, for example, are two who suffered from this rule. Smyslov was the only player to come back after a drawn match to meet the champion again and defeat him, while Bronstein and Schlechter did not get a second chance.

In mentioning these things my point is to show that in practice the system has always favored the incumbent champion. He not only had a bonus point in the match but was also often provided with an opportunity for a rematch. This for example enabled Botvinnik to play seven matches for the world title, with an overall negative result for him: he lost three matches (against Smyslov in 1957, Tal in 1960, and Petrosian in 1963), won two matches (vs. Smyslov in 1958 and Tal in 1961) and two matches ended drawn (vs. Bronstein in 1951 and Smyslov in 1954). The paradox is that he was the one to win the first FIDE unification tournament in 1948. Botvinnik had been favored by FIDE since 1951 and finally lost the title to Petrosian in 1963, by which time FIDE had revoked the right-to-a-rematch rule. At what moment over the period 1951-63 was Botvinnik really the best in the world? I myself cannot be the judge of that.

After the invention of a chess rating system, by the mathematician Dr. Arpad Elo, another assessment parameter went into practice. The system is not perfect, but it's still better than nothing. The rating system reflects the strength of the player, and the changes every three months his fluctuations in form.

Most of the time the FIDE world champions have ranked very high in the rating list. Often the #1 in Elo rating, and the World Champion, are one and the same person. But in the last fifteen years, after Garry Kasparov's withdrawal from FIDE world title competition, there have been champions who objectively were not even among the top ten. This threw confusion into the world of chess. I will return to this theme later.

During the last forty years the chess world has been lucky to enjoy the play of three truly great masters: Fischer, Karpov and Kasparov. It was they who raised the bar so high for their successors. Robert Fischer, in 1972, was the only one to break the monopoly the Soviets had held on the world championship since 1948. His fantastic results, as well as the fact that he is American, made the media of that time talk and write about chess more than ever. Like the champions before him he asked for privileges in defending his title. FIDE accepted almost all his wishes, but he would be satisfied only by 100% acceptance. That's why he resigned the title in 1975, and Anatoly Karpov gained it by default.

Not universally respected in the beginning, Karpov won many tournaments over the ensuing years, and the chess world acknowledged his supremacy. He also became a favorite of the Communist regime, which built around him the image of a model Soviet citizen. The 12th World Champion enjoyed unlimited support and privileges. Of course, he didn't refuse them.

Karpov ruled the chess arena relatively undisturbed until the emergence of Garry Kasparov in the early 1980s. Possessing a strong sense of danger, Karpov soon realized that a serious rival had arrived. Kasparov easily dealt with the other challengers for the title, but in 1984 the first of five gigantic matches between the two best chess players of that time was played. In the first match Kasparov was still young, and quickly fell behind, but he learned quickly, and during the second match he didn't repeat his mistakes, and so won the title in 1985.

The chess battle between Kasparov and Karpov also had another symbolic meaning during the Soviet era. Karpov was considered a representative of the old Communist regime, while Kasparov was the opposite: the representative of a new generation, of glasnost and perestroika. Both of them had strong political support and what happened behind the scenes in the corridors of power was no less interesting than the moves on the chess board.

Kasparov and Karpov met for the last time in a title match in 1990; Kasparov won. In the 1992 FIDE Candidates Matches, English GM Nigel Short beat Karpov, and later Dutch GM Jan Timman, in order to challenge for Kasparov's title.

At the same time the world changed completely. The collapse of the Soviet regime and other Communist governments, the fall of the Berlin Wall, etc., also influenced the world of chess. Brimming with enormous strength and will, the young Kasparov tried to raise chess to a new and more professional level. He actively participated in setting up two new organizations as alternatives to FIDE: first the Grandmasters' Association (GMA) and then the Professional Chessplayers Association (PCA). He attracted sponsors for chess, and generated a lot of new ideas to popularize the game and make it more professional. It can be said that he and his worldwide fame moved the game forward.

What a pity then that his desire to gain full control of everything made the other grandmasters hate him! His actions did not always reflect the image of a democrat. For example in 1989, Ljubojevic and Kasparov shared first place at one of the World Cup tournaments in Barcelona. Tiebreak calculations clearly showed that Ljubojevic was the winner, but the mayor of Barcelona was photographed awarding the trophy to Kasparov. Ljubojevic was angry, but nothing changed. A few years later at the 1992 Manila Olympiad, Kasparov was again the big star. Leader of the Russian team, he confidently led the new state to a gold medal. But this didn't satisfy him; he wanted all the trophies. At first the Olympic jury wanted to give the top brilliancy prize to the Rogers-Milos game, but this made Kasparov angry. He set up a new jury, with himself as a member, and convinced the other members to vote for his victory over Nikolic. That's how he won this prize.

A few years later Kasparov organized a series of rapid chess tournaments sponsored by Intel. Before the last tournament, nothing could prevent the then young star Vladimir Kramnik from coming first in the overall ranking, which totaled points from the four tournaments, in Moscow, New York, London and Paris. A surprising and absurd change in the rules was made, altering the system with the clear intent of favoring Kasparov and giving him one more chance to be first in the final ranking. He used this option and added another trophy to his collection.

In telling all this I'm far from suggesting that Kasparov has always won trophies through unfair methods. And he is far from taking the greatest advantage of his incumbent-champion privileges; Karpov and Botvinnik would probably be at the top of that list. The present World Champion also scores well in this respect. Besides, he is still young and there is time for more victories of this kind. I would suggest that the three Ks (Karpov, Kasparov, Kramnik) transferred this type of knowledge to each other.

But the truth is that almost all the champions have taken advantage of privileges to some extent. It's hard to blame them; this is human nature. The problem is that FIDE has not been strong enough to impose strict rules impartially, and so it allows the champions to blackmail it, so to speak, into giving them privileges. In other sports, such as tennis, this problem was solved long ago. There are no indications that this will happen in chess any time soon. But let's get back to the topic at hand.

FIDE under Ilyumzhinov

In 1995 Mr. Kirsan Ilyumzhinov was elected FIDE President. From then on the gulf between FIDE and Kasparov grew wider and wider. Accustomed to the leadership role, Kasparov was threatened by a new actor on the chess stage, one with more financial clout. Ilyumzhinov solved FIDE's financial problems, and organized tournaments where mid-level grandmasters made very good money. That is how he gained the support of the people.

Of course, he is far from being an ideal FIDE President; not everyone loves him. He also introduced the new FIDE World Championship system: in a manner similar to tennis, or some American intercollegiate sports, a large number of contestants would eliminate each other in mini-matches of two games. And that's how it went almost to the end, but not to the very end.

Like most of the new Russian multimillionaires, Ilyumzhinov, who is also President of the autonomous Republic of Kalmykia, is strongly dependent on political support from Russia. Chess and FIDE are important to him mainly as image-enhancers, not as sources of revenue. His money comes from somewhere else. This was clear to all Russian chess players and especially to the most prominent ones.

Karpov, with his Russian political connections, was the first to take advantage of this. He succeeded in winning special privileges for his participation in the first of the new FIDE World Championship events, held December 1997 – January 1998. 128 players were to compete in a massive knockout-system tournament, and only after a winner had emerged would Karpov have to play him, in a final match of six games in Lausanne, Switzerland. That was of course a big edge for Karpov. Many chess players protested against this injustice.

Topalov with participants in a children's tournament

Ironically one of them was Vladimir Kramnik, who lodged perhaps the strongest protest and refused to participate. Still, the prize fund of 5 million dollars attracted all the other leading grandmasters, except Kasparov who was pursuing his own goals outside the FIDE framework. Thus, the first FIDE knockout championship began at the end of 1997 in Groningen, Holland. Karpov's most dangerous rival, the top-rated competitor Vishy Anand of India, won the tournament quite deservedly. Still, fatigue from the hard series of mini-matches took its toll, and in Lausanne Anand lost after a fierce battle in the final match game. That was how Karpov extended his reign as FIDE Champion for two more years, though at that time there were several players, apart from Kasparov, who were objectively stronger.

Two years later Karpov fought for the same privileges again, and used all means available. But this time FIDE and Ilyumzhinov did not give in to pressure. The new champion had to win in level competition as one of 128 players in Las Vegas; special privileges were not granted to anyone. This unfairness outraged Karpov, who had no intention of playing under equal conditions with the other grandmasters. Anand had signed a preliminary contract for a match with Kasparov outside the FIDE framework, and so did not participate either.

But Kramnik tried his skills. Although this was not the system that suited him best, he had no other chance to win the world title. In 1994 he had tried for both Kasparov's PCA title and the FIDE title, but lost a PCA quarterfinals Candidates Match to Kamsky, and the FIDE quarterfinal to Gelfand. After Kasparov's PCA folded, Garry started yet another organization, the World Chess Council, which organized a qualifying match to determine a challenger for his title. But Kramnik's attempt again ended in failure, as he lost the WCC Candidates match to Shirov in 1998, in Cazorla, Spain. Kramnik still didn't know what a gift he would be presented with in the future, so he entered the 1999 knockout in Las Vegas. But again he did not succeed; Michael Adams stopped him in the fifth of the event's seven rounds.

From Las Vegas emerged a new champion, Alexander Khalifman, a grandmaster of high class but still lacking in skills compared to the top ten. At the time he won the title he was ranked only about #25 in the world. This raised many eyebrows, and triggered arguments about the validity of the big-tournament KO system. The chance of a fluke result is relatively high. The two games at a normal time control are often not decisive, and must be followed by a tiebreak of rapid games or even blitz. The role of physical tenacity becomes much greater, and upsets abound.

The top-rated players were the most active in protesting against the KO format, of course. I understand their problem: they are put on equal footing with everybody else and have no privileges whatsoever. Matches and smaller tournaments are much more convenient for them, but overall, few grandmasters refuse to take part in the FIDE championships — a prize fund of millions of dollars is not easily passed by.

This is why in 2000 and 2002 Ilyumzhinov sponsored, and FIDE conducted, two more KO championships, in New Delhi and Moscow respectively. All top-rank players took part, with the exceptions of Kasparov and Kramnik. The double-K boycott was a triple-K at first, but quite unexpectedly, prompted by a hitherto unsuspected patriotism, Karpov suddenly decided that the FIDE system was not so bad after all, and he agreed to play on an equal footing with all the other 127 players. He had earlier promised to play in a 3-way match-tournament of the three Ks, honoring Botvinnik. This was intended as a protest and boycott of the FIDE championship, but a few days before the start of the tournament he announced that he had decided to bring the world title back to Mother Russia. I don't know whether he actually believed his own words, but in the very first round of the knockout, he was eliminated by Zhang Pengxiang of China. Thus, the title did not go back to Russia.

Kramnik and Kasparov

In the meantime Kasparov, to the surprise of many, had lost his title to Kramnik, who beat him +2 –0 =13 in a match held October-November 2000 in London. Much criticism was directed against this match, and rightfully so. Alexei Shirov had defeated Kramnik in 1998, thereby winning the right to a match with Kasparov. I don't want to go into details as to why this match fell through, but for me the announcement of the Kasparov-Kramnik match was yet more proof that there were no rules in chess. Or more accurately, rules were in place — but not for everybody. This was especially clear to the three Ks who continually criticized Ilyumzhinov and FIDE in the media.

Nothing could stop Kramnik from playing with Kasparov, of course. This was his life's dream; in a 4/2000 interview in New In Chess, he said he would even play for free. His loss to Shirov had been a long time before that, and he had obviously become the better player (by October 2000 Kramnik was #3 on the FIDE rating list, behind only Kasparov and Anand, while Shirov was #6). A pity for Shirov, who unlike the loser Kramnik, did not get a penny for his win in Cazorla.

Shirov's rights notwithstanding, Kramnik won against Kasparov and thus became his heir in many people's minds. But this led to yet further division and confusion over the world title: Kramnik had beaten Kasparov, but on the other hand, Kasparov remained #1 in Elo rating, and began referring to himself as World #1. In a series of interviews Kramnik did everything possible to persuade everybody that he was the real champion, while belittling the FIDE championships won by Anand in 2000 and then by Ponomariov in 2002. In his first tournaments after the Kasparov match, Kramnik demonstrated a true champion's play, in Zurich, Monte Carlo, and Dortmund. But in Astana, the capital of Kazakhstan, in the final round, Kasparov for the first time broke the Berlin Defense Kramnik had used so effectively in the London match, and thus took the tournament victory away from him. At Linares 2002 Kasparov won again, setting a record of 10 consecutive sole or shared first prizes in FIDE tournaments. Thus Kasparov proved that he was still de facto #1.

Of course, Kasparov wanted a rematch with Kramnik. In the preceding years, Kasparov always had a good word for Kramnik, for example supporting him in 1992 when many people considered the young talent not strong enough to be on the Russian Olympic team. He also gave Kramnik his Linares 2000 trophy when the two shared first place with absolutely equal results. Kasparov would have hardly done that for Anand, nor probably anyone else. The media spread the impression that Karpov and Kasparov disliked each other, but both realized that the feud was financially beneficial. Between 1984 and 1990 Kasparov and Karpov had played five matches, three of which had prize funds amounting to millions of dollars. With this in mind, Kasparov started preparing Kramnik to be his new business partner, with whom he would play more such lucrative matches. But his calculations were wrong.

After defeating Kasparov, Vladimir decided that he was the only one who could put the chess world in order. He suddenly became very principled. The champion, who had never before completed a full cycle, started organizing cycles for the other players and arranging matches for himself. It became clear that a rematch would be avoided. There was no requirement for one in the contract for the London match, and Kramnik reads the small print and knows his rights perfectly. As will become clear further on in this book, he does not seem to be so careful about his obligations, but this is another matter.

The Prague Agreement

We are now up to 2001, and it was clear Kasparov would have to win a full cycle, if he wanted to get another match with Kramnik. After realizing this, Kasparov started getting closer to Ilyumzhinov. Elections for FIDE President were coming in 2002 and such times are always interesting. Slowly but surely, the idea of unifying the chess world started gaining momentum. Having two champions (or three!) was bad; people had to know who the one and only champion was.

Of course, the simple solution, a match between Kramnik and FIDE Champion Ruslan Ponomariov, was never discussed. In fact, Ponomariov was not even invited to a meeting at Prague, where decisions on these issues were to be made. At that moment, the important thing was to find a suitable place for Kasparov. Anand and the Ukrainian GM Vasily Ivanchuk could wait; they were not important. Little did it matter that in 2002 Kasparov could not win any of his eight games against Ivanchuk, and even lost two of them. His three games with Anand the same year were all drawn. This is not to say that Ivanchuk and Anand are better than Kasparov, but to show that they had the right to compete for the world title. Yet FIDE and the unification process had forgotten about them.

Anyway, the decisions taken in Prague were: (1) Ponomariov to play a match with Kasparov, and (2) the winner of the Dortmund Tournament to play Kramnik. Fortunately for the Dortmund organizers, the winner turned out to be Hungarian GM Peter Leko. Thus, Carsten Hensel, manager for both Kramnik and Leko, succeeded in achieving his dream of organizing a match between his two clients.

In the meantime, I lost the final against Leko in Dortmund and over the next two years I had no chance of competing for the world title. At least not before the unification process was completed. Then I received a proposition from Ponomariov to help him in his preparation for the match with Kasparov. Danailov and I had already helped Ruslan to beat Ivanchuk in January 2002, and this new invitation sounded appealing. I had practically no experience in playing long matches, but I knew that before such a match the preparation was more serious than usual, inevitably