The King: Chess Pieces

COMPOSITIONS

ON THE JUSTICE OF CHESS

With regard to my games against Milic in the Holland-Yugoslavia international encounter, both of which games I wasted in a most mysterious way, I want to tell my tale of woe, as others may possibly benefit from it. The first game went as follows:

MILIC-DONNER

1. ♘g1-f3 d7-d5 2. d2-d4 ♘g8-f6 3. c2-c4 c7-c6 4. ♘b1-c3 e7-e6 5. e2-e3 a7-a6 6. ♗f1-d3 d5xc4 7. ♗d3xc4 b7-b5 8. ♗c4-d3 c6-c5 9. 0-0 ♗c8-b7 10. ♕d1-e2 ♘b8-d7 11. ♖f1-d1 ♕d8-c7

As a result of White’s feeble sixth move, Black has obtained excellent play. White’s only chance was to play a4 on the ninth, tenth or eleventh move. To insist on e4 was decidedly wrong.

12. h2-h3 ♗f8-e7 13. e3-e4 c5xd4 14. ♘f3xd4 ♘d7-c5 15. e4-e5 ♘f6-d7 16. ♗c1-f4 ♘c5xd3 17. ♖d1xd3 ♘d7-c5 18. ♖d3-g3!?? b5-b4! 19. ♘c3-d1 g7-g5! 20. ♗f4xg5 ♘c5-e4 21. ♗g5-f4 ♘e4xg3 22. ♗f4xg3

So far, I have given the game without much annotation. Black has reached a winning position. Not only is he an exchange up but he has the upper hand even without the material advantage. He can play anything; an obvious and quite good move, for example, would have been 22… 0-0-0.

This is where tragedy strikes. Until now, I had not thought for very long; only the 19th move had taken nearly a quarter of an hour. Everything was running smoothly. I had seen everything and I was looking down on my opponent. But now paralysing doubt took hold of me. From every nook and cranny, I saw white pieces popping up, even though I realized that White did not really stand a chance. ‘Steady on,’ I told myself, ‘you’re winning.’ But to no avail. I could not calm down. The best move in this position, h5, I had seen, and that, in fact, was what I wanted to play, but I touched the rook and went

22. … ♖h8-g8

This can only be understood if you’ve been through it yourself. I had pondered my 22nd move for an hour and had consumed three cokes. My opponent, Milic, who – as I learned later – is known for his moral courage in defending lost positions, played

23. ♘d4-b3

I realized this was an excellent move, dashing every hope of mating the white king immediately. And yet I tried, wretchedly continuing the game with:

23. … ♕c7-b6 24. ♘d1-e3 ♖a8-c8 25. ♔g1-h2 a6-a5 26. ♖a1-d1 a5-a4 27. ♘b3-d2 ♕b6-c6 28. ♕e2-h5 ♖g8-g7 29. ♘d2-c4 ♕c6-e4 30. ♘c4-d6† ♗e7xd6 31. e5xd6 ♔e8-d7 32. ♕h5-b5† ♕e4-c6 33. ♕b5xb4

Now Black is lost, and I was running short of time, too.

33. … f7-f5 34. ♖d1-d4! e6-e5 35. ♖d4-c4 f5-f4 36. ♖c4xc6 f4xg3† 37. f2xg3 ♗b7xc6 38. ♘e3-c4

Black resigns.

After such a performance, one distinctly feels oneself to be a bungler, but this was nothing compared to what I managed in the following game. Filled with hatred, I took my place at the board again and played:

DONNER-MILIC

1. d2-d4 ♘g8-f6 2. c2-c4 g7-g6 3. g2-g3 ♗f8-g7 4. ♗f1-g2 d7-d5 5. c4xd5 ♘f6xd5 6. e2-e4 ♘d5-b4 7. a2-a3 ♘b4-c6 8. d4-d5 ♘c6-d4 9. ♘b1-c3 c7-c6 10. ♘g1-e2

After 10. ♗e3, White would have had a greater advantage.

10. … ♗c8-g4 11. 0-0 ♘d4xe2† 12. ♘c3xe2 0-0 (12. … ♕c8!) 13. h2-h3 ♗g4-d7 14. ♘e2-c3 e7-e6!

Black’s last is an excellent move. The passed pawn is weak if anything, but I wanted to win, which would have been well-nigh impossible after a general exchange in the centre.

15. d5-d6!?? e6-e5! 16. ♗c1-e3 ♗d7-e6 17. ♕d1-d3 ♘b8-d7 18. f2-f4 ♘d7-b6 19. ♖f1-f2! f7-f5?

Milic failed to understand the position. He should not relinquish files and squares surrounding the passed pawn on d6. With f6 he could have closed the position, condemning White to impotence. Now he ended up in a lost position.

20. f4xe5 ♗g7xe5 21. ♗e3-f4 ♗e5xf4 22. ♖f2xf4 f5xe4 23. ♖f4xf8† ♕d8xf8 24. ♘c3xe4 ♕f8-g7 25. ♘e4-c5! ♗e6-d5 26. ♗g2xd5† ♘b6xd5 27. ♖a1-e1! b7-b6

28. d6-d7! ♕g7-f7 29. ♕d3-e4 ♖a8-f8 30. ♘c5-e6 ♕f7xd7

Too bad he did not play ♘f6. When I asked him, he came up with some absurd line. Obviously, he hadn’t noticed that White would have emerged a piece up with 31. d8♘!!

31. ♘e6xf8 ♔g8xf8 32. ♕e4-e6 ♕d7-c7 33. ♕e6-e8† ♔f8-g7 34. ♕e8-e5† ♕c7xe5 35. ♖e1xe5

Decent players resign in such a position. Black did not and managed a draw, of which I am so ashamed that I will not give the rest of the game. Et le pion noir dit au pion blanc: ‘Donner.’

It was not the first time this happened to me. My repeated failures (until recently) against Wijnans were due to the same phenomenon. Always reaching winning positions, never winning. And the second game of my match against Euwe, in which I gave a pawn away in a drawn position, was something similar. I love all positions. Give me a difficult positional game, I’ll play it. Give me a bad position, I’ll defend it. Openings, endgames, complicated positions and dull, drawn positions, I love them all and will give them my best efforts. But totally winning positions I cannot stand. There are other players in Holland who suffer from the same pathetic phenomenon, notably Van den Berg en Barendregt, who, as a result, are not really taken seriously and of whom it is mockingly said: ‘Just give a pawn away and you’re sure to win.’ It is much better, in fact, to play an objectively less correct game but to be able to win once you’ve got a winning position, as is the case with Cortlever and Prins, for example.

And that is why I am writing all this under the heading ‘On the justice of chess’. For it is indeed the strongest who will win: not the one who is objectively the best thinker, but the one who is the most tenacious fighter, as is also the case in life.

CLUB MAGAZINE DD JULY/SEPTEMBER 1950

THE LIMITATIONS OF GREAT IDEAS

Besides Bronstein, who won the tournament in impressive style, it was especially Panno who excelled in Göteborg. The 20-year-old Argentinian had many supporters who hoped and thought he would qualify for the Candidates’ tournament but few would have considered him capable yet of reaching third place in such an extremely tough contest.

His style, at first sight, is not particularly attractive. His games are usually difficult positional battles. Surprising sacrifices or brilliant kingside attacks are not his specialty. He will rather settle for an advantageous ending than try a sharp attack, which might involve risks. No, Panno is definitely not a winner of brilliancy prizes!

A closer examination of his style, however, shows how deeply he has penetrated into the secrets of the game. Here is a player at work who is completely conversant with all methods and systems, both old and modern – a player who has tested and understood these ideas and applies them with admirable skill. What is more, Panno is clearly a player who has distanced himself from chess theory, using it only as a means in a struggle which to him is a personal encounter, first and foremost. His greatest strength is knowing that a game of chess is played on the board, between two players, that the will to win is more important than brilliant ideas – the will to win and complete confidence in one’s own strength.

Not many players, for instance, would have dared to do what he did in his game against Bronstein. After a smooth opening, Panno sees his way clear to winning a pawn. In order to do so, he must badly misplace a rook; it is clear that it will take him at least ten moves before he will be able to coordinate his pieces again. On the other hand, it is not clear either how Bronstein can take advantage of the disarray in the enemy ranks. In other words, a position has arisen that is impossible to evaluate. Even for Bronstein. To be on the safe side, he offers a draw. Panno refuses. Imagine: Panno is confident that his judgement is better than Bronstein’s, at the moment probably the strongest player in the world! The sequel proves him right.

After ten moves or so, he manages to rally his troops while Bronstein has been unable to compensate for the lost pawn. But Panno, in the meantime, has drifted into serious time-trouble and Bronstein again offers a draw. Again Panno refuses. If he had been a few years older, he would probably have accepted. The position was too difficult to be played in mere seconds. Bronstein won in the end, because Panno made a few mistakes in an otherwise winning position.

What happened in the game described above is very characteristic of Panno’s style and mentality, despite its unfortunate outcome. His great strength – and weakness – lies in nuancing confidence and overconfidence. This is the hallmark of great champions. Few players have such assuredness and confidence. Even grandmasters may doubt or avoid battle. Not so Panno. We predict him a great future.

Completely different – diametrically opposed, in a sense – is Fuderer’s vision of the game. Everyone agrees that ‘brilliant’ is a fitting epithet for his style. Impressive is the way in which he defeated Najdorf. Equally impressive is the way in which he could have defeated Panno. When he is at his best, he reminds one of the greatest of the great – Alekhine. In other games, unfortunately, this same Fuderer is only a shadow of himself, unable to find a solution for even the simplest problems in simple positions. He is too much a man of ideas to be a great chess player. As noted above about Panno: self-confidence and strong nerves are more important in chess than great ideas. That is why Lasker was greater than Tarrasch and Capablanca greater than Nimzowitsch.

DE TIJD 1 OCTOBER 1955

PETROSIAN’S BLUNDER

(…)

What happened in the game Petrosian-Bronstein is so unusual as to be virtually unprecedented.

Petrosian had come out of the opening with fine play. A feint attack by Bronstein had been warded off, and all Black could do was wait and see how his opponent would exploit the positional advantage. It seemed Petrosian was on his way to a quick victory. The diminutive, clever Bronstein, however, showed once again he is not easily beaten. In a very deep defensive manoeuvre, he directed his queen from a5 via d8 to h8. For the moment, he succeeded in staving off an immediate collapse. Both players ran into time-trouble. Bronstein more so than Petrosian. All he did was play a knight back and forth, while Petrosian was trying to find the right position for his rooks. Just when Petrosian hit on the correct plan, Bronstein played his knight for the seventh time, en passant attacking the enemy queen. To everyone’s horror, Petrosian did not protect the queen, played a random move and resigned immediately. But see for yourselves:

PETROSIAN-BRONSTEIN

1. c2-c4 ♘g8-f6 2. ♘b1-c3 g7-g6 3. g2-g3 ♗f8-g7 4. ♗f1-g2 0-0 5. ♘g1-f3 c7-c5 6. 0-0 ♘b8-c6 7. d2-d4 d6-d6 8. d4xc5 d6xc5 9. ♗c1-e3 ♘f6-d7 10. ♕d1-c1 ♘c6-d4 11. ♖f1-d1 e7-e5 12. ♗e3-h6 ♕d8-a5 13. ♗xg7 ♔xg7 14. ♔g1-h1 (to prevent 14. … ♕xc3) 14. … ♖a8-b8 15. ♘f3-d2 a7-a6 16. e2-e3 ♘d4-e6 17. a2-a4 h7-h5 18. h2-h4 f7-f5 19. ♘c3-d5

Black has no serious chance left of taking the initiative. His position is full of holes. White’s main threat is b3, ♕b2 and ♘f3 with a winning attack on the e-pawn. Black’s next few moves serve to cover the e-pawn from h8 with the queen. A brilliant defence!

19. … ♔g7-h7 20. b2-b3 ♖f8-f7 21. ♘d2-f3 ♕a5-d8 22. ♕c1-c3 ♕d8-h8 23. e3-e4! f5xe4 24. ♘f3-d2 ♕h8-g7 25. ♘d2xe4 ♔h7-h8 26. ♖d1-d2 ♖f7-f8 27. a4-a5 ♘e6-d4 28. b3-b4 c5xb4 29. ♕c3xb4 ♘d4-f5 30. ♖a1-d1 ♘f5-d4 31. ♖d1-e1 ♘d4-c6 32. ♕b4-a3 ♘c6-d4 33. ♖d2-b2 ♘d4-c6 34. ♖e1-b1 ♘c6-d4 35. ♕a3-d6 ♘d4-f5

36. ♘e4-g5 ♘f5xd6

Baffling. Petrosian is one of the best ‘blitz’ players in the world. And he leaves his queen en prise! Better than anyone else, he is capable of surveying a complicated situation at a glance. He is known as a formidable technician, who can convert the smallest advantage inexorably into a win, as he demonstrated in this game against Bronstein, for there is no doubt he had a winning position. Comparable blunders have occurred before. In the Candidates’ tournament of 1953, in Zurich, both Reshevsky and Szabo overlooked a mate in two. That might still be considered an instance of chess blindness. But what happened to Petrosian here is a paralysis of reflexes.

To our knowledge, a similar blunder has never yet occurred in chess at master level. The queen!! Even if a player sees nothing anymore, he will keep an eye on the queen!

Bronstein was distressed. More than Petrosian perhaps, he is a true lover of chess. He detests badly played games and will sometimes, without pride or arrogance, express his loathing of players who prefer an easy draw to a difficult struggle, because they spoil the royal game. It was obvious that he derived no great pleasure from having to score an undeserved point because of such a terrible mistake.

Petrosian reacted with much greater equanimity. Shrugging his shoulders and smiling ashamedly, he accepted his second’s condolences. The swarthy Armenian, now living in Moscow, has nerves of steel. There was a bolt loose for a moment. We will see whether he will take it badly or courageously start anew.

DE TIJD 29 MARCH 1956

TALENT

Since the match between Botvinnik and Smyslov went into the second half, there has been a complete turnabout in Botvinnik’s favour. While even in the thirteenth game Botvinnik was seen at last to display his characteristic style, with its admirable combination of strategy and tactics, the fifteenth was a complete repeat performance. This fifteenth game may have been the most striking played so far in the match. Here, we saw them in clear opposition to each other: profound Botvinnik and clever Smyslov. It is the old opposition between a Lasker and a Capablanca. A player who is painfully labouring and throwing his human virtues – notably patience, tenacity and logic – into the fray against someone who is displaying the (apparently) effortless ease we call ‘talent’.

In judging Botvinnik and Smyslov, a choice has got to be made between the man or his talent. As for me personally, I can tell you that in this match my sympathies are fully on the side of Botvinnik’s play. Smyslov is the great magician, who’s got a complete command of the problems involved but only in the manner of the elegant animal. There is something inexplicably superficial, opportunistic in his style. This is characteristic of talent. Talent is only interested in the surface of things, as all deeper problems originate from man, whereas talent is something ‘extra’-human. We must therefore admire someone like Smyslov but it will always be an admiration mingled with something like envy. It is an admiration for something we do not and cannot have ourselves. In admiring Botvinnik, however, we honour mankind and, in doing so, we honour ourselves as well.

How dramatic was the clash of these antipodes in their fifteenth match game. For the third time, Smyslov adopted the Nimzo-Indian Defence. Clearly, Botvinnik was prepared. This is precisely one of the things that make for Botvinnik’s great strength: preparation and ‘home’-analysis. His manoeuvring in the opening was brilliant. As often as three times, he moved a knight back and forth to and from the b5-square. It was only preparatory work to maintain his advantage – the bishop pair. Botvinnik is a player with a firm belief in small advantages. Smyslov is indifferent to such theoretical considerations and took the offensive. At this stage, time-trouble began to interfere. Botvinnik hit back fiercely and the result was a wild flurry of sacrificial threats from both sides. Botvinnik came off best and the game was adjourned in a position where he was two pawns up.

The dramatic denouement came after the resumption. There was an ‘accidental’ variation in the position, which Smyslov flawlessly distilled from it. He has pulled off such things more often; it’s why he is considered a ‘magician’.

Botvinnik probably expected Smyslov to resign without further play and didn’t bother to analyse. And indeed, only someone like Smyslov would have been able to see at a single glance that after the obvious exchange of queens the rook ending should be drawn. Capablanca, too, would have known. Lasker would have feared it and would have analysed. Botvinnik, for once, was too confident and lost a costly half point. Things like this may break someone with less resilience than Botvinnik for the remainder of a match. Botvinnik will get over it.

DE TIJD 12 APRIL 1957

MYTHOLOGY

A few years ago the Russian grandmaster A. Kotov wrote a book about Alekhine. He did so in Russian, naturally, and as a result we could only judge its merits on the strength of the games and the analyses in it. Some polyglot or other roughly translated its title as: ‘Alekhine’s Chess Inheritance’. It was evident from the part written in the chess Esperanto of ‘e2-e4’ and ‘b7-b5’ that a splendid work had come into being. Kotov resisted the temptation of indiscriminately including everything Alekhine himself had dished up about his games. On the contrary, he showed there were several instances where there were holes in some of the former world champion’s most famous combinations, which had so far passed unnoticed. He clearly demonstrated how Alekhine tended to overrate attacking in general. He found fine defences in positions that Alekhine himself considered as winning.

Where the technical side of the chess was concerned, it was clear that Kotov had proved himself a worthy biographer of the great Alekhine. Recently, however, a German translation rolled off the press in East Germany. This has given us access to what Kotov has to offer on Alekhine as a chess player and as a man. What a disappointment! It is an account of Soviet mythology in the worst Russian tradition. To begin with, it presents Alekhine as a typical representative of the ‘Russian School’. This ‘Russian School’, characterized by undogmatic creativity (‘schöpferisch’ and typically Russian), is opposed to the paltry, arch-dogmatic school of Tarrasch and company.

The argument is rather childish. Take the player who may have been the strongest chess player ever. Annex him for your own clique and set him off against another player, whose opinions have long since been considered out of date and who is to represent ‘those on the outside’. Similarly, it is not uncommon for Russian art critics to claim Michelangelo as a representative of ‘socialist naturalism’, while invariably mentioning Dali as a typical representative of modern art.

More annoying, perhaps, is the outright distortion of facts where Alekhine’s philosophy of life is concerned. Not even Alekhine was always successful. Towards the end of his life in particular, his results were in sharp decline. This, according to Kotov, was due to his leaving Russia in 1922 and roaming about ever since amidst people who failed to understand his deep Russian soul. What followed seemed inevitable; in 1946 he took his own life. This is untrue. Kotov, however, got it from the book about Alekhine by the Austrian Hans Müller, who made up the story, carried away, most likely, by dark feelings of ‘Götterdämmerung.’ In fact, Alekhine died a natural death.

There is also the nasty business of Alekhine’s attitude during the war. Bringing it all up again is unnecessary but in spite of the admiration due to Alekhine as a chess player there can be no forgetting how he allowed himself to be used by the Nazis during the war.

He was blamed most of all for an article published in 1941. Under the heading ‘Jüdisches und arisches Schach’, he managed to offend all his former colleagues, from Lasker to Euwe, to such an extent that in December 1943 in London the decision was taken never to invite him for a tournament again. ‘A disgraceful conspiracy led by the USA’, is Kotov’s point of view. ‘But the old mother country came to his rescue.’

The Russians invited Alekhine to come to Moscow for a world title match against Botvinnik. Alekhine had meanwhile lost much of his former strength. In the Spanish and Portuguese tournaments in which he competed in 1944-1945, he rarely won first prizes against players of merely national rank. A match against Botvinnik would have been a farce. ‘In this, his most difficult moment, Russia supported Alekhine, her lost child, like a tender loving mother’, says Kotov.

The following fragment is from the more pleasant part of the book:

White to move

ALEKHINE-HOFMEISTER

Petrograd 1917

Black is a piece ahead. He also threatens both 1. … ♘e4, with the follow-up 2. … ♗c7, and 1. … ♘f1+ followed by 2. … ♘g3+ and perpetual. Alekhine came up with a beautiful combination in order to continue his attack.

1. c4-c5!

Both black threats are parried. 1. … ♘e4 2. cxb6! ♘xd6 3. b7+ ♖xb7 4. axb7+ ♘xb7 5. ♖xc8 mate; or 1. … ♘f1+ 2. ♔h1 ♘g3+ 3. ♖xg3 ♕xg3 4. cxb6 and wins, as 4 … ♖xc2 is followed by 5. ♕xd8+ ♕b8 6. ♕xe7 with a continuing attack, while 4. … ♕xd6 5. ♖xc8+ ♕b8 6. b7+ ♖xb7 7. axb7+ ♔xb7 8. ♖xb8+ ♔xb8 9. ♗f2 leads to a winning endgame.

1. …b6-b5 2. a4xb5 ♘g3-e4 3. b5-b6! ♘e4xd6 4. c5xd6

A fantastic position! Black is a queen up but can not save the game. He finds the prettiest way to lose.

4. …♖e7-c7 5. b6-b7+ ♔a8-b8 6. d6-d7!! ♕g5-g3+ 7. ♔h2-h1

An unusual position. Black resigned because there was no defence against the two white pawns on the seventh rank.

This game was played in 1917 in Petrograd and the combination in it counts as one of Alekhine’s finest. Alekhine himself was proud of it, and rightly so. His judgment of the position in the diagram, however, was too optimistic,

He says that 1. c4-c5 is decisive. But Kotov found that is not correct. He found a defence. After 1. c5 Black needs to find a counter-threat that is strong enough. He also needs to weaken the battery ♖c2 and pawn c5, because it is the foundation of White’s combination. Black solves the problem with 1. … ♖e2, threatening mate with 2. … ♘f1+ and 3. … ♕xg2. White is forced to exchange the rooks and to change the situation completely. Kotov concludes that White will even lose doing so, but he also proves that the combination is winning after Black’s reply 1. … b6-b5.

DE TIJD 24 DECEMBER 1957

FUN AND SERIOUSNESS

As you may have read some time ago, the president of the World Chess Federation has denied the request from the Wageningen Zonal tournament that four instead of three players be admitted to the Interzonal. This means that Larsen and I will have to fight it out. I was afraid of that. It will be a match over four games. I’ll have to win, because in the event of a tie it will be Larsen who goes to the Interzonal tournament, due to the Sonnenborn-Berger system. It will be a very difficult task for me.

In reviewing the tournament in Wageningen at the time, I said: ‘Larsen is now off to a tournament in Dallas. He won’t achieve much there; that’s almost impossible, immediately after such a heavy contest as at Wageningen.’ But Larsen did achieve something. He finished a shared third and fourth with Szabo, scoring just over 50 per cent with 7½ points from fourteen games. To me, that score is definite proof that where Larsen is concerned, we’re dealing with a player of exceptional quality.

To reach top-grandmaster level in chess, it goes without saying, knowledge, skill and insight are necessary requirements. But at the top – among the fifty or so world-class players, who all have insight – completely different qualities are involved. Character, staying power, self-confidence and aggression decide who will be the greatest among grandmasters. Larsen seems to have a very fortunate temperament in that respect. He has one conspicuous quality that is more un-common among chess players than might be expected. He derives great pleasure from playing chess. He is one of the very few chess players I know to whom winning is probably less important than playing the game. And remarkably, such players win most often.

Don’t let me be misunderstood: Larsen takes the game very seriously. He is obsessed by chess. It is the ‘fun’ that makes him take the game so seriously. Players who have a certain aversion to the game – and I know many – don’t take chess seriously. They feel the game isn’t really worth the enormous effort it requires. They just play for the money or for the honour of winning. Someone like Capablanca, for instance, never missed an opportunity to show how far he was above the game. He preferred dominoes. He predicted chess would die a ‘draw-death’. Other people might still have difficulty with this complicated game, but he, he knew it all and to him it was just so much drudgery. Naturally, it caused Capablanca to be even more admired by people who failed to understand the origin of his aloofness: his inability to enjoy the game.

What a sharp contrast with Lasker and particularly Alekhine, who were both known to think very highly of the game. Lasker even developed a ‘machology’ – a philosophy of battle, based on chess. He invented new board games. And both he and Alekhine were always prepared to play chess, even against much weaker opponents.

It is an established fact that in serious games, Alekhine sometimes let an opportunity go by to win directly, in order to try a difficult rook ending with which he had no prior experience. The remarkable paradox is that, to him, the greatest seriousness was the greatest playfulness. This tension between obsession and invigorating humour is the hallmark of the great champions. I clearly detect this quality in Larsen. Witness how he dealt with Larry Evans, the second-strongest US grandmaster after Reshevsky, a very experienced player and, especially in un-complicated positions, reputed to be invincible.

EVANS-LARSEN

1. d2-d4 d7-d5 2. c2-c4 e7-e6 3. ♘b1-c3 c7-c5

Larsen has done this more often. Before I have to play my match against him, I must look up why. Officially, the line is known to be unfavourable for Black.

4. e2-e3

To my knowledge, no one has ever tried to play the sharp Rubinstein Variation – beginning with 4. cxd5 – against Larsen.

4. … ♘b8-c6 5. ♘g1-f3 ♘g8-f6 6. c4xd5 e6xd5 7. ♗f1-b5 a7-a6

Black is not impressed and accepts the loss of a few tempi.

8. ♗b5xc6† bxc6 9. 0-0 ♗f8-d6 10. d4xc5 ♗xc5 11. e3-e4

It seems White is taking the initiative.

11. … 0-0 12. ♗c1-g5 ♗c5-e7 13. ♘f3-d4 ♕d8-d6! 14. e4-e5 ♕d6xe5 15. ♘d4xc6 ♕e5xg5 16. ♘c6xe7† ♔g8-h8 17. ♘e7xc8 ♖a8xc8

Black has easily parried all white threats, obtaining comfortable play. This is when Larsen is at his most dangerous.

18. ♕d1-d3 ♖f8-d8

If Evans thought even for a moment that Larsen would defend the a6 pawn, he didn’t know whom he was up against.

19. ♕d3xa6!?? d5-d4 20. ♘c3-e2 ♖c8-c2

Note that Black is no longer in danger of being mated on the back rank.

21. ♖a1-d1 ♕g5-e5 22. ♘e2-g3 h7-h5! 23. ♖f1-e1 ♕e5-d5 24. ♖e1-e2 d4-d3! 25. ♖e2-e3?

25. … ♖c2xf2!!

A most unexpected combination, with the point appearing soon. Obviously, White cannot take the rook because of 26. … ♘g4†.

26. ♘g3-e4!

An ingenious defensive move. Now, however, the true aim of Black’s combination is to emerge.

26. … ♘f6xe4 27. ♖e3xd3 ♖f2-f1†!!

White resigns. He’ll be mated after a queen check on f5 or c5. If White takes with the rook, he’ll be dispatched with the well-known smothered mate: 27. ♖xf1 ♕c5† 28. ♔h1 ♘f2† 29. ♔g1 ♘h3† 30. ♔h1 ♕g1† 31. ♖xg1 ♘f2 mate.

DE TIJD 1 FEBRUARY 1958

THE PROPHET FROM MUGGENSTURM

Emil Josef Diemer’s appearance doesn’t suggest a man who is prepared to have a good laugh at himself from time to time. His gaunt shape clothed in a suit clearly indicating he has given up the idea that appearances could possibly matter, his pointed beak conspicuously jutting out and a twisted grin around his toothless mouth – that’s how he moves about, with a slightly dancing gait. He is the type of man – we all know the sort – who is always knocking cups off the table. At the Beverwijk tournament, recently, he fell from the stage. It was an accident, of course, but if the question had been asked before the tournament: ‘Which of the participants will fall from the stage?’, insiders would have intoned in unison: ‘Diemer.’

Even before the war, Diemer, hailing from Muggensturm bei Rastatt-Baden, was a chess player and writer of some repute. Accompanied by a very old typewriter, he travelled round the big tournaments as a journalist – to the despair of his colleagues, as he spoilt the market by demanding an absurdly small fee. Evidently, he cared more about ‘being part of it’ than for earning money. This went on until about 1950, when Emil Josef Diemer was converted to a new truth.

He discovered the Blackmar Gambit! First, there were letters, addressed to chess theoreticians like Dr. Euwe, in which he pointed out new, unprecedented possibilities in the old opening: 1. d4 d5 2. e4 dxe4, an innovation of the 19th-century New York judge Blackmar. This is nothing new. There have always been people who think they’ve discovered new openings. They are usually Germans and their openings usually guarantee forced wins. As recently as 1948, a book was published on 1. g2-g4.

Diemer received kind replies and was told that the Blackmar Gambit might well be playable but that there were also many other openings. But when his letters grew into manuscripts and their tone became increasingly vehement, he was simply ignored or laughed at. He was at loggerheads with the German chess magazine in particular, and also with the German Chess Federation, which was probably somewhat embarrassed by phrases such as (headline over an annotated game): ‘Der Teufel rast über das Brett, der Furor Teutonicus tobt’.¹

When Diemer met with ever stronger resistance, he took an important step, founding the ‘Blackmar Gemeinde’, and began publishing a hectographed pamphlet by that name. The pamphlet was mailed to ‘Blackmar Gambitists’ and recorded their games, annotated by the master himself. The myriads of exclamation marks in these annotations have gained notoriety. The pamphlet offered Diemer ample opportunity to formulate his ideas and reflect on his experiences. He came to understand that his discovery, the Blackmar Gambit, by far transcended the limitations of the game of chess. ‘Spielen Sie doch Blackmar, es verwandelt den ganzen Menschen’². And a headline in the 1956 Christmas edition boldly states: ‘Für denjenigen, der ins Absolute schaut, hat der Krieg nur dann einen Sinn, wenn er als Vernichtungskrieg geführt wird.’³

He urged ‘Gambitists’ in the United States to research the person and the life of Blackmar, the man who had presented the world with such a tremendous gift. And a few months later, he unveiled the ‘epochemachende Sensation’ that it probably was not Blackmar who was the first to play the gambit but his brother, who ran a men’s wear shop in New Orleans. The tone becomes unmistakably deferential here.

The greatest enemy of the ‘Blackmar Gemeinde’ and the man under the severest anathema, is Hans Müller from Vienna, who has denied the correctness of the Blackmar Gambit from the very first. Diemer’s every analysis was invariably answered by an irritated counter-analysis from Müller. They conducted an extensive correspondence full of insults, especially after not only Diemer’s but also Müller’s writings were refused by German and Austrian chess magazines. Their gigantic struggle for truth rages on, and I’ve heard it being surmised that someday, at the end of time, Müller, too, will be accepted into the ‘Blackmar Gemeinde’.

Recently, E.J. Diemer brought out a book, Vom ersten Zug an auf Matt (Going for Mate from Move One). It must be said that he shows some restraint in this minor work, presumably under pressure from his publisher, although it could have done with some pruning among the exclamation marks. I sincerely hope that with the above I haven’t scared off any readers, because it is, in fact, quite a pleasant little book. Now, what to think of this Diemer and his Blackmar Gambit?

In chess, the target is the enemy king. It must be mated. A sensible player, however, will operate above all with patience and ‘diplomacy’ and certainly not act on Diemer’s motto ‘to play for mate from the first move’. But there is great charm in games where one of the players doesn’t operate sensibly and yet wins. It should be kept in mind that what Diemer advocates is nothing new at all.

When chess in its present form, at the time of the Renaissance, was still very young, all players played like Diemer. El Greco and Ruy Lopez had similar openings, which they analysed very deeply and which were in line with this idea to attack from the very first move. Philidor, the 18th-century ‘rationalist’, was the inventor of positional play. But in the 19th century, unbridled aggression returned with the ‘romantics’. Anderssen, with his king’s bishop and king’s knight gambits, was the most pronounced exponent of this school.

Diemer may be a fool, his style of play is not foolish at all but highly instructive! I would recommend this book by Diemer to anyone who wants to improve his chess. You won’t find the secrets of the isolated pawn or the bishop pair in it, but you will find something that forms the basis of every chess game: the attack on the king. In this book you will find three hundred games in which the enemy king is mated in the most ghastly way. Every chess player must be able to do that before he can even start to think about pawn structure.

In the foreword to the book my name is mentioned, among others. Allow me to explain. During the Candidates’ tournament in Amsterdam, where I met Diemer for the first time, I told him: ‘It seems the Russians are playing your system.’ If I had thought that he would blushingly wave this aside, I was sorely deceived, for he said: ‘Sie versuchen es!’⁴

This is an example of the Blackmar Gambit, taken from Diemer’s magazine:

DE BOER (Wormerveer) – VAN DER LIJN (Zaandam)

1. d2-d4 d7-d5 2. e2-e4 d5xe4 3. ♘b1-c3 ♘g8-f6 4. f2-f3 e4xf3 5. ♘g1xf3 e7-e6 6. ♗c1-g5 ♗f8-e7 7. ♗f1-c4 ♘b8-d7 8. 0-0 0-0 9. ♕d1-e2 ♘d7-b6

The roundabout manoeuvre with his queen’s knight that Black sets out on here is beneath criticism. It is typical of Diemer to praise only White’s play in this game without disapproving of Black’s; it gives the impression that it’s all pretty straightforward if only you play Blackmar.

10. ♗c4-d3 ♘b6-d5 11. ♘f3-e5 ♘d5-b4 12. ♖a1-d1 ♕d8xd4†

From bad to worse!

13. ♔g1-h1 ♘b4xd3 14. ♖d1xd3 ♕d4-c5 15. ♗g5xf6 ♗e7xf6 16. ♖f1xf6! g7xf6 17. ♖d3-g3† ♔g8-h8 18. ♕e2-g4 and mate on the next move.

DE TIJD 15 FEBRUARY 1958

1 ‘The devil is raging over the board, the Teutonic fury has been unleashed.’

2 ‘Play the Blackmar: it changes a person completely.’

3 ‘For whoever looks into the absolute, war only makes sense if it is conducted as a war of extermination.’

4 ‘They try to!’

PACING UP AND DOWN

Portoroz, a delightful seaside resort on the Adriatic, is at present the scene of the great chess battle held once every three years: the Interzonal tournament. The Yugoslavs know how to give a chess player his due. At previous occasions – in Dubrovnik, Bled and Abbazia – they already made quite an impression as organizers, and once again it is clear that their government sets great store by making a good impression.

In Western Europe, where relations between governments and sport are somewhat different, we are freer, of course, but for chess players that means English seaside resorts in winter and Swiss winter sports centres in summer. Holland is a fortunate exception, and the tournaments in our country have an excellent reputation. Amsterdam, according to some, is the chess players’ Mecca.

Great chess is being played here in Portoroz. Competition is fierce and the games are of a high level. It has been otherwise. The players’ strength is absolutely no guarantee for the quality of the games they play.

Petrosian, for instance, the enigmatic grandmaster from Georgia in the Soviet Union, is a player who can fumble so atrociously that spectators are appalled. Here, he is at his best. How he does it, no one understands, but with endless manoeuvring he manages to turn the most boring positions as if by magic into promising or even winning ones. Especially when nothing much seems to be going on and his opponents are about to succumb to a drawish mood, they should beware. For moves on end they’ll have to fend off some almost imperceptible force. Days later, his victims are still wondering where they went wrong.

It is completely different with his fellow countryman Tal. His opponents are never in the dark as to why they lost. Tal is always attacking. His intentions are clear: the enemy king must be mated. Certainly, he makes mistakes. But because of the tremendous pressure exerted by his forward push, these usually go unnoticed. It is only afterwards that missed opportunities will be discovered, but by then it is irrevocably too late.

He is twenty-two years old now, this dark Latvian. Never have I seen anyone pacing up and down so impressively. As is well known, nearly half the participants at chess tournaments loaf around, which usually means that they are pacing up and down. Smyslov is the slowest in the field. There’s something dreamy about him. Stahlberg is somewhat quicker, and his head is slightly atilt. Awesome is Botvinnik’s pacing. He only gets up from the board when his opponent is utterly lost. In the case of Fuderer, ‘pacing’ is hardly the term. It is hopping, rather, strutting about like a little bantam cock. He also talks to other players occasionally. The same with Najdorf, who is buttonholing people all the time with his famous question: ‘Bin ich nicht genial?’

All this, however, is far too human to compare with Tal’s pacing up and down. When Tal has made a move, he puts both his hands upon the table and, with a sigh, pushes himself up. For a while, he stands behind his chair, surveying the result of his labours, and then it begins. He does it, I think, with his shoulders. It is, I believe, the extremely complicated counter-movement of his arms that creates the impression of a tiger stalking up and down. At the same time, he is somewhat like an elephant. When someone gets into his way, they immediately step aside. Yes, he is most like an elephant, with his enormous nose and his eyes too far apart.

And that is how he plays chess, too. Only Matanovic managed to hold his own against him. He fought him with his own weapons. The Yugoslav unleashed such concentrated violence that Tal caved in. It was one of the best and also one of the longest games of the tournament.

Bronstein is putting in an appearance again as well. But what has happened to him? This is the man who made a meteoric rise ten years ago. He kept on winning first prizes and, in the end, he gained the right to challenge Botvinnik himself. Only the world champion he couldn’t overcome. Their match ended in a tie. But ever since, Botvinnik and Bronstein (with the later addition of Smyslov) have been bunched together as ‘the world champions’.

And now, this same Bronstein has turned into a drawing master. Of the old panache there is not much left. He makes for clear and safe positions and then tries to push his opponents off the board. Since he lacks the virtuosity of a Petrosian, he rarely pulls it off. There must be something wrong with him. As for himself, he is a bit melancholic under it.

One of the strange things in this tournament is that there’s a fifteen-year-old boy hanging about. Sometimes, he just sits in an empty chair at one of the boards. Don’t shoo him off, he’s Bobby Fischer from the United States. Child prodigies are not a rare phenomenon in the chess world. Reshevsky was at master strength when he was only nine years old, and Capablanca was twelve when he became the Cuban champion. The latter, in fact, seems to have been quite a player when he was four, the undisputed master of the family circle.

Bobby Fischer, however, is clearly a grandmaster. His fanaticism is boundless. Outside the playing hall, he’s only to be seen during meal times at the Palace Hotel, where the players are staying. He wolfs down his food, the sooner to return to his room and study theory. Contact is out of the question. He makes the impression of a dissatisfied lout.

But he can play chess, and already in a mature, balanced style! There is not much room for further development. He may grow less nervous – his nail biting during games is truly gruesome – and become even more difficult to beat, but I don’t think that he is cut out to be world champion. As a person, too, he needs to learn. During games, he makes a habit of playing a piece and then, when his opponent sits up, taking the move back. An instant later, he makes the move after all. That is highly irregular and rather irritating for the opponent. But then, Bobby Fischer is only fifteen years old.

Twenty-one players take part in this tournament. Only five will proceed to the Candidates’ tournament to be held next year. There is a chance it may come to the Netherlands.

ELSEVIERS WEEKBLAD 6 SEPTEMBER 1958

MEIN SYSTEM

One of the striking features of chess is its theoretic, its scientific aspect. Because all events in a game of chess can be recorded unambiguously and repeated move by move at will, regular players of the game are bound to start thinking about the underlying coherence in these strings of moves. After a game, chess players may set up the pieces again and review the entire battle, but now objectively and with hindsight.

It is not surprising therefore that ever since the emergence of modern chess in the 16th century virtually every self-respecting chess master has put his views and notions in writing and published them. This has given rise to a literature capable of filling many libraries. Manuals, tournament books, collections of games are still coming off the press almost daily.

Recently, two interesting works have come to my attention. The first is a manual for the advanced chess player, De praktijk van het schaakspel (The Practice of the Game of Chess) by Dr. M. Euwe. With it, the great chess teacher has published the third volume of his monumental oeuvre, which is to become a complete theory of the middlegame. Everything that may happen on the chessboard is ordered and classified in a most impressive manner.

Paramount for the author is the logic of chess; he is clearly convinced it provides the way to learn the game and solve its problems. Euwe became world champion, after all, because he was unafraid of Alekhine’s much discussed genius due to his reliance on this precept. Orderliness and a firm belief in the adequacy of human reason are the hallmarks of his book.

Entirely different is the reprint of Mein System (My System) by A. Nimzowitsch. This book, first published in 1925, had regrettably been unavailable for years even in the second-hand trade. In view of the ever-growing interest in Nimzowitsch’s ideas – in particular after the war – the Viennese chess-writer Dr. J. Hannak has done a useful service in providing a new edition of the author’s principal work.

Representing Nimzowitsch’s theories is not easy. His book is hardly a manual. It is too personal to qualify as such. To him, there is no logic at all in the way a game of chess unfolds. ‘You’ll laugh at me, reader, but in my view a passed pawn has a soul. It has desires it is unaware of and fears that beset it.’ To Nimzowitsch the game of chess is a stage play that does not make sense but in which the performance of the actors may be touching at times.

This man, who was known for his lack of a sense of humour, sees the game of chess in fact as a capital joke, as something not worthy of serious discussion at all. This point of view, understandably, has made Mein System into a rather peculiar book. It is never annoying, however, not even in its boldest and most untenable propositions, as one is irresistibly drawn under the spell of its author’s great originality.

What his system actually amounts to remains unclear. But everything he brings to the fore about centre-strategy or blockading is nowadays taken very seriously indeed. His name lives on in the Nimzo-Indian. Or rather not quite. Originally, his name was Niemzowitsch but due to a forgotten ‘e’ in his passport, the chess world came to know him as Nimzowitsch. When he had got over his initial coyness, this turned out to be beyond repair.

ELSEVIERS WEEKBLAD 11 APRIL 1959

TEARS

Tal has won the Zurich tournament after all. He lost in the first round but then played with such elan that a few rounds before the end, his first place seemed a foregone conclusion. After eleven games his nearest rivals – Keres and Bobby Fischer – had dropped one-and-a-half points behind. Then Bobby Fischer’s moment came. In the third session of a very long and difficult game he beat Keres – who thus suffered his only defeat of the tournament – while Tal was held to a draw by Barcza.

The thirteenth round began with a one-point difference between the two super-cracks of the tournament, a difference that was wiped off the scoreboard when Tal lost against Gligoric, while Fischer chalked up yet another victory. Two rounds before the end, they were tied, the child prodigy from the western hemisphere, coming from the tradition of Morphy and Capablanca, and the Russian from Latvia, the most aggressive chess player since Alekhine.

They were pitted against each other in the final round but the decision came one round earlier. Tal won his game in this fourteenth round, but Fischer ran into unexpectedly fierce resistance from Switzerland’s Keller. The Swiss had not performed particularly well in the tournament but in this encounter he surpassed himself, creating great difficulties for his opponent. Fischer lost a pawn and onlookers realized he would have to fight for a draw. As the game went on it became clear that a draw might be impossible and that he was in ever greater danger of losing. The game was adjourned in a position that still seemed to offer some slim chances, but in the resumption Keller gained a well-deserved victory.

The sensational encounter Tal-Fischer was scheduled for that same afternoon. Tal needed a win to secure first place, because in the meantime Gligoric had almost imperceptibly nudged ahead to come within a half point. No one gave Fischer much of a chance with black to stand up against Tal’s violence. Red-eyed – Bobby turned 16 three days before the tournament – he took his seat at the board. Had that morning’s blow been too much? Under the unrelenting flashlight of press photographers, who were allowed ten minutes to do their work, his tears welled up.

It had of course been a tremendous disappointment for him that he tripped up so far into the race, but there was no telling from his play in this final game. Tal chose an opening known to be extremely dangerous but because of Fischer’s strong defensive play, he achieved nothing. He was forced into a disadvantageous endgame, which he barely managed to keep a draw. Now Gligoric could come alongside in first place if he beat Kupper. Throughout the game, the Yugoslav had the better play. At the adjournment he was even a pawn up. But for a win it was not enough. As a result, Tal finished the sole winner with Gligoric taking second place, half a point behind. Keres and Fischer shared third and fourth place.

It was a glorious and exciting tournament, completely dominated by the two youngest participants – Tal, 22, and Bobby Fischer, 16. There is a striking difference between the two. Fischer is the pragmatic, technical one. He makes almost no mistakes. His positional judgement is dispassionate, nearly pessimistic. His method is ‘to play against the board’. Tal is more imaginative. For him, over-confidence is a danger that he must constantly guard against. Hearing him analyse you’ll find he immediately sees an opponent’s mate in ten but sometimes simply misses lines where he is mated himself. He is vain and will rather make a dubious piece-sacrifice, hitting like a bombshell, than opt for a more promising but calmer plan. Tal bewitches his opponents and confounds them. Fischer is dangerous because his opponents tend to underestimate him.

There was much debate in Zurich as to which of the two has the better chance of winning the world championship. The outcome was that Tal will undoubtedly be a more dangerous opponent for Botvinnik than Fischer. But to get that far he will first have to struggle through the Candidates’ tournament, and there Fischer was deemed to have the better chance.

But there are other potential challengers. Gligoric, after all, was second in Zurich and Keres can do much better than he did. And then there are Petrosian and Smyslov. Olafsson needs to take some rest if he is to achieve anything in the Candidates’ tournament, which is to be held in September in Yugoslavia this year.

ELSEVIERS WEEKBLAD 13 JUNE 1959

CHESS IS ONLY CHESS

When a chess player has defeated all his opponents, when he has achieved the highest that can be achieved and has become world champion, he will inevitably come to face the evil spirit that says: ‘I’ve defeated all my opponents, I cannot reach any higher. SO WHAT’S NEXT!!? What purpose has all this energy served? Has there been a point in all this strenuous effort?’ All former world champions have experienced this, and each has reacted in his own way. Lasker abandoned the game, didn’t play for ten years and conceived his