The image of Ukrainian skeleton racer Vladyslav Heraskevych, standing stoically before the icy track with a helmet bearing the faces of 24 dead compatriots, has become an indelible symbol of the 2026 Winter Games. His subsequent disqualification for that act of remembrance has ignited a fierce debate about the soul of the Olympic movement, one the athlete himself is far from finished fighting.
In his first detailed account since being barred from competition, Heraskevych has revealed his plans to appeal to courts outside the International Olympic Committee’s sphere of influence, with the ultimate goal of returning to win an Olympic gold medal—wearing the very same “helmet of memory.” “Our goal is to win this case,” he stated. “Then I want to come to Olympic competitions with the same helmet. And, of course, to win a gold medal.”
A Commemoration, Not a Campaign
Heraskevych firmly rejects the notion that his gesture was a calculated political protest or the work of a PR campaign, a rumour he says circulated in Olympic circles. He decided to honour the 24 Ukrainian athletes and coaches killed in the war just three to four weeks before the Games, many of whom he knew personally. “It was important to bring them with me,” he explained, “because at some point of their lives, it was their goal to be at the Olympics too.”
The helmet’s imagery was created by artist and family friend Iryna Prots, who understood his desire to give a “presence” to the fallen. She later expressed anger at the IOC’s decision, believing it violated the Olympic spirit. Heraskevych points out this was not his first such tribute; during the 2024-25 season, he displayed a quote from fallen Ukrainian activist Pavlo Petrychenko—”all beautiful people remain optimistic”—on his sled.
He also highlighted what he sees as a stark double standard. He noted that Italian snowboarder Roland Fischnaller competed wearing a helmet displaying flags from past Olympic host cities, including Sochi’s Russian flag, and that Israeli skeleton athlete Jared Firestone wore a kippah inscribed with the names of Israeli athletes killed in the 1972 Munich Massacre. “My helmet wasn’t showing any violence, just drawings of athletes,” Heraskevych said. “There was no Ukrainian flag. There were no Ukrainian symbols.”
The IOC’s Rule and a Final Meeting
The International Olympic Committee stated that Heraskevych’s helmet violated their Guidelines on Athlete Expression and Rule 50 of the Olympic Charter, which prohibits political, religious, or racial propaganda in Olympic sites and venues. The Court of Arbitration for Sport later dismissed his appeal, finding the IOC’s limitations on expression to be reasonable and proportionate, noting athletes have other avenues like interviews and social media.
The conflict came to a head in a dramatic last-minute meeting with IOC President Kirsty Coventry in Cortina. Heraskevych says they spoke respectfully, but he later learned the decision to disqualify him had been made the night before. At that meeting, he challenged the IOC’s consistency, citing the visible Russian flags and questioning why his commemorative act was treated so severely. “It seems like the IOC plays alongside with Russia,” he told her.
He made a final request: to be allowed to use the helmet, after which the rules could be changed. “I didn’t violate any rules,” he insisted. He also suggested the IOC could provide practical support, like electricity generators for Ukrainian athletes and sports facilities, to show solidarity. “It would provide support in a tough situation. And you will have a better image as an organisation,” he argued. “But then I was disqualified.”
Heraskevych also revealed that the Ukrainian team had been warned, via an intermediary organisation, that any protest could lead to the disqualification of the entire squad.
Support and a Path Forward
Since returning to Kyiv, Heraskevych has received significant recognition. President Volodymyr Zelenskyy awarded him the Order of Freedom, a high state honour. Ukrainian billionaire and Shakhtar Donetsk president Rinat Akhmetov donated over $200,000—matching the prize for a Ukrainian Olympic gold medallist—calling him a “true winner” and a hero.
Heraskevych stresses he is no hero, saying that distinction belongs to the people on his helmet. He plans to put the donated funds into a charity foundation to help Ukrainians and support his training. The athlete, who had recently signed a sponsorship deal with Visa—a Worldwide Olympic Partner since 1986—maintains he had no desire to cause trouble for his sponsors or the Games.
“If the IOC want to blame anyone for this scandal, they should blame themselves,” he said. “If I had a PR campaign, it was the IOC who were my PR company.”
A Broader Context of Controversy
The Heraskevych case unfolded amidst other controversies at the Milano Cortina Games, including allegations of performance-enhancing suit manipulation in ski jumping, judging disputes in ice dance, and the exclusion of female Nordic combined athletes. His disqualification has become the most politically charged issue, however, particularly with the Winter Paralympics approaching.
For the first time since 2014, Russian athletes will compete under their own flag and anthem at those Games, a decision by the International Paralympic Committee that horrifies Heraskevych. He cites a statement by the head of the Russian Paralympic Committee that 300 of its athletes are former soldiers in the war. “Basically, they were killing Ukrainians on the frontlines and now they will kill them as a propaganda instrument,” he said, calling for an international coalition to boycott the Games if Russian and Belarusian athletes compete.
Reflecting on the invasion’s four-year anniversary, he described the terror of the first days and reiterated the message he held on a sign at the Beijing 2022 Games: “No war in Ukraine.” While sad he could not compete in Cortina, he has no regrets. “I couldn’t betray these athletes. If I did, I would regret it for my whole life.”
He leaves with a perspective forged by war: “The happiest thing was just to see your friends in good health, to hug each other, and to know your family members were OK. This is what is really important, not material things.” For Vladyslav Heraskevych, the fight for what matters—for memory, for principle, and for a return to the ice—is only just beginning.
