Sumo Comes Back to Paris: Remembering France's Most Famous Fan
On June 13 and 14, 2026, a grand sumo exhibition is being held at the Accor Arena in Paris.
As the wrestlers move around the city, they inevitably attract attention. Photos of the two yokozuna—the sport's highest rank, often translated as "grand champion"—visiting famous Paris landmarks have even made headlines back in Japan.
Away from the ring, sumo wrestlers can appear almost whimsical: towering figures in traditional dress strolling through one of the world's most elegant cities. Yet once they step onto the dohyo, the atmosphere changes completely. Massive bodies collide, silence gives way to explosive bursts of energy, and matches are often decided in a matter of seconds. It is a spectacle that is likely to leave a strong impression on French audiences.
The basic rules of sumo are surprisingly simple. Two wrestlers face each other on a circular ring about 4.5 meters in diameter. Victory is achieved by forcing an opponent out of the ring or making any part of his body other than the soles of his feet touch the ground.
What makes sumo unique, however, is everything that happens before the clash itself. Wrestlers throw purifying salt, perform ceremonial stomps, and repeatedly crouch and stare each other down before the bout begins. These rituals reflect sumo's deep roots in Shinto tradition. A match may last only a few seconds, but the tension often builds for minutes beforehand.
For that reason, sumo is more than a sport. It is also a cultural performance, a living tradition, and one of Japan's most recognizable symbols.
Its blend of simplicity, strategy, ritual, and sheer physical presence has long fascinated foreign audiences. Even outside the official tournament circuit, overseas exhibition tours continue to draw curious spectators eager to experience something unlike any other sport.
France's Most Famous Sumo Fan
When discussing France and sumo, one name immediately comes to mind: Jacques Chirac.
The former French president, who passed away in 2019, was known for his deep interest in Japanese culture. Among all things Japanese, however, sumo held a special place in his heart.
Chirac was not merely a diplomatic admirer. He was a genuine fan.
He reportedly visited Japan more than fifty times over the course of his life, beginning in the 1970s. During his years in office, he was said to have obtained recordings of sumo broadcasts and followed tournament results closely, sometimes receiving updates through the French Embassy in Tokyo.
As Mayor of Paris in 1986 and later as President of France in 1995, he helped support major sumo events held in the French capital. From 2000 to 2007, he also sponsored the French President's Cup, a trophy awarded to the top-division tournament champion.
Perhaps most tellingly, he reportedly named his dog "Sumo."
Few world leaders have ever embraced the sport so enthusiastically.
"Everything I Needed to Know, I Learned from Sumo"
One of the most famous quotes attributed to Chirac is:
"Everything I needed to know in life, I learned from sumo."
Whether the wording is entirely accurate or not, the quote has become synonymous with his reputation as a devoted admirer of the sport.
According to AFP, Chirac once joked in 1998 that if he had started training when he was young, he might have become a sumo wrestler himself.
"I have the height," he reportedly said. "The weight could always be gained over time."
He also spoke admiringly about the psychological aspect of the sport, reportedly remarking that he knew of no gaze more intense than that exchanged between two wrestlers during the pre-match stare-down.
For Chirac, the appeal of sumo was not limited to victory and defeat. He was captivated by the tension, discipline, and ritual that precede the contest itself.
His enthusiasm was well known in Japan. During a visit to Osaka in 2005, spectators reportedly greeted him with chants of "Chirac! Chirac!" and a standing ovation—an unusual reception for a foreign head of state.
Other stories, some perhaps bordering on legend, further illustrate his obsession. One oft-repeated tale claims that the first task of his morning at the Élysée Palace was checking the previous day's sumo results.
Whether entirely true or not, the story feels believable.
The "Sumo Debate" with Sarkozy
Chirac's passion for sumo even became a topic in French politics.
One of the most frequently cited examples involves Nicolas Sarkozy, who would later succeed Chirac as president.
At the time, Sarkozy was a frequent critic of Chirac and rarely missed an opportunity to attack his interests and habits. Sumo was no exception.
According to reports of remarks made in Hong Kong in 2004, Sarkozy questioned how anyone could become fascinated by what he described as overweight men with slicked-back ponytails wrestling one another.
Other reports quoted him in even harsher terms, suggesting that sumo was not an intellectual sport and expressing disbelief that people could be captivated by it.
It was, to say the least, an unflattering assessment.
Officially, Chirac stayed silent, but he likely wanted to grab Sarkozy by the belt and send him flying right then and there.
Strange, Unique, and Impossible to Ignore
Whether sumo qualifies as an "intellectual sport" is ultimately beside the point.
What is beyond dispute is that sumo is unlike almost anything else in the sporting world. The enormous wrestlers, the topknots, the ceremonial salt throwing, the lengthy pre-match rituals, and the lightning-fast bouts create a spectacle that feels entirely its own.
And perhaps that is why people react so strongly to it.
Some, like Chirac, become lifelong fans. Others, like Sarkozy, remain unconvinced.
Yet both reactions stem from the same source: sumo's remarkable uniqueness.
That uniqueness continues to captivate audiences today, including those gathering in Paris this week.
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