By Jason Lim
As someone who's plugged into the U.S. and South Korean media, I think it's reasonable to say that this year's Winter Games in Beijing isn't really getting lots of traction in the press in the two countries. I almost wish that I was just as savvy about the Chinese media scene so that I could compare. I am sure it would be a fascinating contrast in terms of world views.
There are lots of reasons for the lack of coverage, including the ever-present pandemic that's still roiling the world. In the U.S., it's also about the Ukraine-Russian conflict, the Jan. 6th insurrection, masks in schools, etc. In Korea, it's all about the upcoming presidential elections. There are only so many eyeballs in the world, and the winter games don't carry narratives powerful or urgent enough to pull them away from other issues taking up the world's attention bandwidths.
The public excitement about this Olympics is certainly a notch down from the one in PyeongChang just a few short years ago. When you compare it to the hubbub surrounding the Beijing Summer Games in 2008, then the comparison becomes even starker. Back in 2008, the world was ready to celebrate with China over its emergence as a world power. As the rest of the world slumped amid the subprime financial crisis, China seemed young and confident, answering the call to lead the world out of the economic malaise. The global celebration surrounding the Summer Games reflected China's newly found position, dazzling in its presentation and warmly embraced by all.
Fast forward 13 short years, and what a difference it has been. As China emerged as a global leader, the world seems to be having second thoughts about China being the type of a leader that it wanted. The muted nature of the celebration is just a minor symptom of the shift in how the world views China today, with increasing dread and diminishing returns of hope.
Admittedly, when I say "the world," I largely mean "the Western World," led by the U.S., Western Europe, and the countries in their spheres of influence. However, back in 2008, the welcoming celebration for China was genuine across the world, regardless of geographical and civilizational fault lines. Now, you have C-SPAN asking on its Facebook page, a day after the Opening Ceremony, "Are you concerned about China hosting the Olympics?"
The G2 rivalry gets the most attention, of course. It's a quintessential great powers rivalry, with the axiom that the conflict between a rising great power and existing great power has inevitably led to a great conflict that has resulted in a new world order. With Korea fated to be a prawn stuck in the middle of a fight between whales, this rivalry is a dynamic that has already manifested in a very real way for Seoul ― THAAD, anyone?
Nonetheless, China's reputational fortune is more than a result of international realpolitik. There is a real angst about its threat to the "end of history" inevitability of Western liberal democracy as the final destination for political systems around the world. China's economic success and its socioeconomic vibrancy seems to have given its one-party, autocratic rule a credibility that no one could have imagined when the Berlin Wall fell. Putin's Russia seems to have made a strategic decision to piggyback off China's autocratic luster, developing an ersatz marriage of like-minded political systems as a rival and alternative to the Western liberal democracy led by the U.S. In this context, China's Winter Games of 2022 comes across as more of a Robert De Niro belligerently whispering, "You talkin' to me?" into a mirror while holding a gun, than Sylvester Stallone raising his arms and pumping his fists on top of the Rocky Steps leading up to the Philadelphia Museum of Art.
The world has seen this movie before. Korea, especially, has been dragged into playing supporting roles in these types of movies throughout history, which is why it is more sensitive than others concerning any ambiguity that accompanies the G2 world order, and generally anxious about making strategic choices that force it to take a stand. Korea knows the deadly consequences of making the wrong choice or making no choice at all. It's a real possibility that the privilege of a choice could be taken away from Korea in the near future.
That's why it's interesting to note the controversy surrounding the scene in the Opening Ceremony in which 56 minority groups in China are shown wearing their traditional clothing and carrying the Chinese flag. Among the 56 was a woman wearing a "hanbok." This scene predictably triggered accusations of a cultural Northeast Project that Korea views as modern China's unilateral attempt to impose today's political vision of a multiethnic and unified China onto a historical dynamic that is much more complex and shared. Such narratives matter and trigger an emotional reaction that will add to the anti-China sentiment in Korea.
This depiction isn't exactly about Korea, of course. Engaging in such displays while being publicly accused of Uyghur genocide and the ongoing Tibet persecution illustrates without a doubt that this Olympics is all about domestic consumption, to reinforce the idea of an ascendant China. Except, this time, it's ascending in spite of the world rather than with support of it. We will have to wait and see whether these games turn out to be a phoenix or an albatross.
Jason Lim (jasonlim@msn.com) is a Washington, D.C.-based expert on innovation, leadership and organizational culture.
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There are lots of reasons for the lack of coverage, including the ever-present pandemic that's still roiling the world. In the U.S., it's also about the Ukraine-Russian conflict, the Jan. 6th insurrection, masks in schools, etc. In Korea, it's all about the upcoming presidential elections. There are only so many eyeballs in the world, and the winter games don't carry narratives powerful or urgent enough to pull them away from other issues taking up the world's attention bandwidths.
The public excitement about this Olympics is certainly a notch down from the one in PyeongChang just a few short years ago. When you compare it to the hubbub surrounding the Beijing Summer Games in 2008, then the comparison becomes even starker. Back in 2008, the world was ready to celebrate with China over its emergence as a world power. As the rest of the world slumped amid the subprime financial crisis, China seemed young and confident, answering the call to lead the world out of the economic malaise. The global celebration surrounding the Summer Games reflected China's newly found position, dazzling in its presentation and warmly embraced by all.
Fast forward 13 short years, and what a difference it has been. As China emerged as a global leader, the world seems to be having second thoughts about China being the type of a leader that it wanted. The muted nature of the celebration is just a minor symptom of the shift in how the world views China today, with increasing dread and diminishing returns of hope.
Admittedly, when I say "the world," I largely mean "the Western World," led by the U.S., Western Europe, and the countries in their spheres of influence. However, back in 2008, the welcoming celebration for China was genuine across the world, regardless of geographical and civilizational fault lines. Now, you have C-SPAN asking on its Facebook page, a day after the Opening Ceremony, "Are you concerned about China hosting the Olympics?"
The G2 rivalry gets the most attention, of course. It's a quintessential great powers rivalry, with the axiom that the conflict between a rising great power and existing great power has inevitably led to a great conflict that has resulted in a new world order. With Korea fated to be a prawn stuck in the middle of a fight between whales, this rivalry is a dynamic that has already manifested in a very real way for Seoul ― THAAD, anyone?
Nonetheless, China's reputational fortune is more than a result of international realpolitik. There is a real angst about its threat to the "end of history" inevitability of Western liberal democracy as the final destination for political systems around the world. China's economic success and its socioeconomic vibrancy seems to have given its one-party, autocratic rule a credibility that no one could have imagined when the Berlin Wall fell. Putin's Russia seems to have made a strategic decision to piggyback off China's autocratic luster, developing an ersatz marriage of like-minded political systems as a rival and alternative to the Western liberal democracy led by the U.S. In this context, China's Winter Games of 2022 comes across as more of a Robert De Niro belligerently whispering, "You talkin' to me?" into a mirror while holding a gun, than Sylvester Stallone raising his arms and pumping his fists on top of the Rocky Steps leading up to the Philadelphia Museum of Art.
The world has seen this movie before. Korea, especially, has been dragged into playing supporting roles in these types of movies throughout history, which is why it is more sensitive than others concerning any ambiguity that accompanies the G2 world order, and generally anxious about making strategic choices that force it to take a stand. Korea knows the deadly consequences of making the wrong choice or making no choice at all. It's a real possibility that the privilege of a choice could be taken away from Korea in the near future.
That's why it's interesting to note the controversy surrounding the scene in the Opening Ceremony in which 56 minority groups in China are shown wearing their traditional clothing and carrying the Chinese flag. Among the 56 was a woman wearing a "hanbok." This scene predictably triggered accusations of a cultural Northeast Project that Korea views as modern China's unilateral attempt to impose today's political vision of a multiethnic and unified China onto a historical dynamic that is much more complex and shared. Such narratives matter and trigger an emotional reaction that will add to the anti-China sentiment in Korea.
This depiction isn't exactly about Korea, of course. Engaging in such displays while being publicly accused of Uyghur genocide and the ongoing Tibet persecution illustrates without a doubt that this Olympics is all about domestic consumption, to reinforce the idea of an ascendant China. Except, this time, it's ascending in spite of the world rather than with support of it. We will have to wait and see whether these games turn out to be a phoenix or an albatross.
Jason Lim (jasonlim@msn.com) is a Washington, D.C.-based expert on innovation, leadership and organizational culture.
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