Tuesday, August 26, 2008

The Great Leap Forward

Farewell, Beijing. Farewell, and good riddance.

I do, of course, acknowledge that that it was a kind of success, especially for us. Depending on the figures one uses—that is, depending on the person asked—we earned either first or second place, not taking the most gold medals but winning the most medals overall. In Michael Phelps, we had an athlete so dominant that he completely marginalized the rest of the field, set an astonishing seven world records and did not fail to win the gold in any event in which he competed. A few events were marred with atrocious officiating—and in the case of the uneven bars, also nonsensical and arbitrary algorithms—and frequently, we still managed to win. And as usual and most encouragingly, many other teams from around the globe emerged from their apparent obscurity to provide us with that characteristic and timeless sense of excitement. Even the opening ceremony was a marvel—which, at $100 million USD, it certainly ought to have been—and for four hours, it captured the imagination of the world.


But our hosts? Disgraceful, in a word.


This was to be their glorious debut, the pivotal moment at which they would symbolically join the rest of the developed world, but instead, it’s just been yet another indicator of how backward they are.


The Chinese authorities, of course, rebuffed all objections on the grounds that the Olympics must be free of politics. This is mostly disingenuous, but also downright stupid; how could it be? And, for that matter, why should it be? Should the crowd in attendance at the opening ceremony have fallen silent upon the entrance of the Iranian team, or not? Should the United States and others have boycotted the Games altogether, or should we have not? The Olympics are highly political, always have been, and always must be, from before the host is decided until the extinguishment of the eternal flame. And the Chinese government handled it in a predictably political way.


They promised not to engage in the electronic surveillance of their guests, and they did. They promised to clean up their air, and they didn’t. They forged official documents to circumvent important official regulations, and now they’ve conscripted the IOC into covering their tracks. Now, these are all standard fare as far as evil machinations go, but what is indicative is the sad little controversy which surrounded the opening ceremony itself.


It was later revealed by Chen Qigang, the Olympics’ music director, that the adorable little girl who appeared to have sung the Chinese anthem Ode to the Motherland was not actually the vocalist. Yang Peiyi—the true vocalist—was originally to have performed it live, but a party official objected to her appearance, so Yang’s wonderful voice was used and the more “photogenic” Lin Miaoke was used as an actor. Now, the problem with these Milli-Vanilli-inspired shenanigans is not the sheer superficiality of it, of course; for better or worse, everyone makes decisions on that basis. The problem is their callousness, and the fact that they didn’t make the slightest attempt to either apologize or explain. “The audience will understand that it’s in the national interest,” Chen told Beijing Radio. Indeed.


Why, in light of legitimate human rights violations, is this important? The short answer is simply that it isn’t. After all, Yang, Lin, and everyone else in the “People” part of “PRC” probably had no part in it. And even if they did, it’s unlikely they had a choice.

Actually, as it turns out, the long answer is exactly the same.