The Paris Games of 1900 did offer a few bright spots. With Coubertin marginalized, these Olympics were the first in which women were invited to participate, with around twenty women traveling to France to compete in sports like tennis and golf. Charlotte Cooper of Great Britain was the first woman to become an Olympic champion, winning gold in tennis. Cooper, who had already won three Wimbledon tennis tournaments and would go on to win two more, defeated Hélène Prévost of France in straight sets, 6–4, 6–2. Cooper also teamed up with fellow Briton Reginald Doherty to earn the gold medal in mixed doubles, defeating Prévost who joined forces with Harold Mahoney of Ireland. Margaret Abbott became the first woman from the United States to win gold. She beat out nine other women competing in the nine-hole golf tournament. Abbott, a Chicago socialite who had traveled to Paris in 1899 to study art, accompanied by her mother, the novelist and editor Mary Ives Abbott, chalked up her victory in part to the other competitors’ sartorial standards, commenting that “all the French girls … turned up to play in high heels and tight skirts.” The Games were so disorganized that the twenty-two-year-old golf champion had no idea that the tournament she won was part of the Olympics. She died without knowing she was an Olympic victor.
The uptick in women’s involvement was part of a larger trend: six times as many athletes participated in Paris as at Athens, coming from twenty-six countries and engaging in twenty-four sports. Yet participation was hampered by the prohibitive cost of travel, which gave a leg up to wealthier countries whose national sport committees could defray travel and living expenses. Such unequal participation is bricked into the Olympics to this day.108
Coubertin saw the Games’ domination by the Universal Exhibition as a disaster. He resolved that the IOC should never again allow the Olympics to get hijacked by a World’s Fair, “where their philosophical value vanishes into thin air and their education merit becomes nil.” After the 1900 Games, Coubertin decided that Olympism would have to assert its independence and “no longer be reduced to the role of humiliated vassal to which it had been subjected in Paris.”109
But humiliation was precisely what the Olympics would experience at the 1904 Games in St. Louis, where matters went from bad to worse, despite the backing of the popular US president Theodore Roosevelt. Roosevelt was named honorary president of the 1904 Olympics and even agreed to appear at the Games in person, an apt endorsement from a man the New York Times credited with catalyzing “a Nation of brawn and muscle.”110 Despite Roosevelt’s imprimatur, the Baron sensed disaster. He reported experiencing “a sort of presentiment that the Olympiad would match the mediocrity of the town.” His assessment of St. Louis was blunt: “There was no beauty, no originality.” Attaching the Games to the World’s Fair only brought him feelings of “repugnance.” He didn’t even make the voyage to St. Louis.111
Neither did many athletes from Europe, leaving the field open for American and Canadian domination—of the 617 competitors who paid the two-dollar entrance fee plus fifty cents per event, 525 were from the United States and forty-one were from Canada. Meanwhile, women’s participation declined, with only eight females competing. The World’s Fair (officially the Louisiana Purchase Exposition) was once again spread across months, from May through November.112 The official Olympics lasted a week spanning August and September, but organizers created confusion by referring to all athletic competitions in the wider exhibition as “Olympic events.” As one participant from Milwaukee recalled: “The Olympics didn’t amount to much then. They were only a little tiny part of the big show in St. Louis. There was not much of an international flavor to the Games. It was largely a meet between American athletic clubs. I ran for the Milwaukee A. C. [Amateur Club] and I never gave any real thought to the idea that I was representing the United States of America.”113
Worse yet, the St. Louis Olympics were tarnished by the inclusion of the Anthropology Days, a sequence of athletic events in mid-August that allowed social scientists and sport bigwigs to test racist hypotheses. The Anthropology Days were not part of the official Olympic program, but World’s Fair organizers often called them the “Special Olympics” and billed them as “the first athletic meeting held anywhere, in which savages were exclusive participants.”114
The Anthropology Days pitted ethnic and racial groups against one another in events like track and field to see which group, supposedly, was the most athletically gifted. Anthropology Days organizers aimed to whet spectators’ appetites for the official Games that would follow, but another motive was to contrast what they called “savages” to the highly trained athletes from the United States and Europe. To do this, they rigged the system to ensure that the savages could be “scientifically proven” to be inferior. Anthropologist Nancy Parezo sums up the affair as “a comedy in bad science” in the service of social Darwinism.115
The Anthropology Days were in part inspired by the fledgling field of social science, and it is in that historical context that they are best understood. Academics sought methodological rigor in order to put the “science” in “social science.” One form of data that found prominence was anthropometry, whereby researchers used biometric measurements to link race and body type to labels like “natural athlete” and “born criminal.” Anthropologists assumed that race existed as a stable category, and that it correlated with specific physical, psychological, and cultural characteristics. Their supposedly objective measures were shaped by politics and used to justify colonialism and racist subjugation.
The organizers of the Anthropology Days at St. Louis were two World’s Fair officials, William J. McGee and James E. Sullivan. McGee was an anthropologist and proselytizer of anthropometry. Sullivan headed the Department of Physical Culture for the Exposition. He was a former athlete and prolific writer who penned a glorified account of the proceedings for Spalding’s Official Athletic Almanac for 1905 called “Anthropology Days at the Stadium.”
Sullivan initially proposed a “Special Olympics” in order to dispel any popular notions that non-whites were “natural athletes” who could compete at the same level as Caucasians. The “utter lack of athletic ability on the part of the savages,” as Sullivan put it, would prove that Western athletes were the best in the world.116 Sullivan and McGee pulled their pool of participants from the nearly 3,000 indigenous people who traveled to St. Louis from around the world to take part in the Fair. A sizable number of them were enticed, cajoled, or bullied into playing along with Anthropology Days.117 Since the exposition was in the United States, Native groups from the US and Canada predominated, including Arapahos, Chippewas, Kickapoos, Kiowas, Navajos, Nez Perce, Pawnees, Sioux, Wichitas, and First Nations people from Vancouver Island. Even the famous Apache Geronimo was there. Also on hand were indigenous people from the Philippines, recently conquered by the United States in the Spanish-American War: the Bagobos, Igorots, Moros, Negritos, and Visayans. Other indigenous groups included African Pygmies, Argentine Patagonians, and Japanese Ainus.118
At the core of McGee’s belief system sat the assumption that indigenous peoples and Caucasians were subject to scientific laws governing their physical capabilities. In economic terms, the “Special Olympics” were meant to demonstrate anthropology’s use value while conjuring exchange value for his stockpile of anthropological artifacts, which he aimed to sell to procure funding for future research. He also sought to validate his theory that environment