Checkmate in Baguio City

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 2 1/2 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.

On one disastrous Sunday, Korchnoi lost twice to Karpov in the space of an hour. The anguished challenger fled to Manila, where he encountered Steven Michael Dwyer and Victoria Sheppard, members of Ananda Marga, a yoga-practicing Indian sect. The two young Americans were out on bail, appealing a conviction for stabbing an Indian embassy official. Korchnoi struck up a friendship with the saffron-robed duo, who prescribed yoga exercises, including headstands, as a remedy for his tension. Back in Baguio City, with the yoga experts in tow, Korchnoi mounted a surprising offensive, winning four of the next 14 games, to even the score at five games apiece. Karpov's aides demanded that the "terrorist-criminals" be expelled from the city, and match officials complied.

As the decisive game got under way last week, the spooky Dr. Zoukhar walked boldly to the front of the hall, fixing an unblinking gaze in Korchnoi's direction. Although he did not seem to notice Zoukhar, the challenger began to play badly once again; after 5 hours and 40 moves, he sealed his last play and rose from the table, a beaten man.

Next day, Korchnoi declined to sign his game card as a protest against the "intolerable conditions under which the games have been played." Karpov dutifully credited the "support of the Soviet people" for his victory. With his $350,000 winner's share of the purse (part of which will flow into the Soviet treasury), he can now relax with the chauffeured Mercedes, apartments in Moscow and Leningrad and other luxuries his chess title affords him. But he may soon face another ordeal: Bobby Fischer, who failed to defend the championship in 1975 after whomping Soviet Boris Spassky, was in Belgrade, reportedly looking for a tune-up match in preparation for challenging Karpov.

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