The Economist February 12th 2022 China 37China’scomplicatedOlympic mood
T
he term“raucous” could not be applied to the crowd at the
opening ceremony of the Beijing Winter Olympics—perhaps
because many of them were officials, attending as a reward for
good conduct. So on the few occasions that spectators at the Bird’s
Nest stadium did show emotion on the cold, clear evening of Feb
ruary 4th, their reactions were worth studying. Chaguan was
among dozens of Beijingbased foreign reporters invited to the
ceremony. He sat in a section of the stadium separated by fences
and guards from the “closedloop”, a secure quarantine zone creat
ed for Olympic athletes, coaches and dignitaries newly arrived
from an outside world that, in contrast with China, has resigned
itself to living with covid19. Most of the stadium’s seats were kept
empty, as a pandemic precaution. Olympic tickets are not on sale
to the public, and China’s borders are closed to foreign fans.
Some moments would have made any Chinese crowd cheer.
These included the arrival of President Xi Jinping and the raising
of the national flag to the strains of “Me and My Motherland”, a pa
triotic hymn. Other reactions were more revealing: notably, the
applause that welcomed a few athletic delegations marching into
the stadium, when most were greeted with silence. China’s arrival,
naturally, prompted roars of pride. There were cheers, too, for
Hong Kong and for athletes from Taiwan, the democratic island
that China claims as its own. The Taiwanese looked a bit glum,
perhaps because—bowing to demands from China—the Interna
tional Olympic Committee makes them compete under the made
up name of “Chinese Taipei”. Two other countries earned loud
cheers: Pakistan and Russia. That is telling. After all, many things
that the Chinese public dislikes are endemic in Pakistan, from
rampant corruption to Islamic extremism to terrorist groups that
target Chinese interests. As for Russia, its team is competing in
Beijing as “the Russian Olympic Committee” rather than under its
own flag, as punishment for systematic statesponsored doping.
The pattern held at a women’s ice hockey game the following
night, between America and Russia. As Team usacruised to a 50
win, the crowd of fewer than 600 locals, rattling around the
18,000seat Wukesong arena, did not hide a proRussian tilt, yell
ing “Good, good!” and waving small flags depicting Bing Dwen
Dwen, a wideeyed panda mascot, whenever Russia controlled the
puck.Chaguan’s neighbours, officials from the Beijing State
Owned Assets Management Company, who had been offered free
tickets a week earlier, said they backed Russia as an “old friend”.
In many ways, the games find China in confident and upbeat
mood. Take the many student volunteers in Olympic snowsuits
and furry hats. A handpicked bunch, some revealed that they be
long to the Communist Youth League, a recruiting ground for fu
ture party members. Others said that organisers chose good stu
dents with “a volunteer spirit”. Either way, their good cheer is un
feigned, even after hours outdoors in the cold. As for this year’s
opening ceremony, it was less bombastic than the show that
kicked off the Beijing summer games in 2008, though both were
directed by Zhang Yimou, a filmmaker. In place of massed drum
mers and other shows of might 14 years ago, this time dancers paid
tribute to pensioners who twirl each night in parks and public
squares. Later, children scampered about with illuminated doves.
This China wants to be seen as modern but lovable. That ex
plains dancing robots at Wukesong’s security checkpoint, singing
the Beijing 2022 theme song, “Together for a Shared Future”. Even
some Olympic venues reflect growing cultural confidence, such as
a freestyleski ramp built among the disused cooling towers and
blast furnaces of Shougang, a former steelworks in western Bei
jing. Unfairly mocked by foreign commentators, Shougang is ac
tually magnificent: a slice of carefully preserved industrial heri
tage resembling a steampunk film set. A conditional welcome
But China’s confidence has a darker side. Guided in part by griev
ancestoking propaganda outlets, the public mood increasingly
resents foreign criticism. In this polarising age, many in China di
vide the world into friends—countries and organisations that
praise China as a model—and the rest. Russia’s president, Vladi
mir Putin, issued a joint statement with Mr Xi just before the
opening ceremony that unveiled a united front against America
and its Western allies. The pair condemned powers that use “advo
cacy of democracy and human rights” to lean on other countries,
and endorsed what sound a lot like Russian and Chinese spheres
of influence in Europe and East Asia. Both hailed a moment of “re
distribution of power in the world”. Pakistan is liked in China be
cause it is a noisily loyal ally. Its prime minister, Imran Khan, in
Beijing for the games, praised China’s Communist Party for its dis
cipline and focus on ending poverty, hailing its achievements as
“unique in the history of mankind”.
Rising confidence and impatience with critics are two sides of
the same national mood. The Olympic slogan “Together for a
Shared Future” is in fact an ideological challenge, even when sung
by cute robots. It refers to a Xiera foreignpolicy mantra, “A Com
munity of Shared Future for Mankind”. That is code for replacing
universal values with moral relativism, and putting economic de
velopment above individual rights. The aim is to help China, in its
diplomats’ words, move nearer the “centre of the world stage”.
Amid warm welcomes for athletes, flashes of cold defiance
lurk, as when China chose a littleknown Uyghur skier to light the
Olympic cauldron with a Han Chinese colleague: a statement that
China feels no shame at repression of Uyghurs and other Muslims
in Xinjiang. Any hint of bad news about the games is blamed by
Chinese officials on “paranoid Western media”. A meme flying
around Chinese social media shows Bing Dwen Dwen ina bob
sleigh, warning those who block his way: “I’ll run youover.”
Though not an official slogan, it captures China’s mood well.nChaguan
At the Beijing winter games, a mix of happy pride and angry defiance