Last Wednesday, the International Olympic Committee (IOC) finally found its voice and admonished China for violating the spirit of the Olympic Games. In response to comments by two top Chinese Communist Party officials in Tibet, the IOC issued a stern reminder to China that sports and politics don’t mix.
Beijing predictably defended statements that authorities should crush Tibetan dissidents to “bring more glory” to the Olympics. There’s nothing political about creating a “harmonious environment,” the Chinese foreign ministry replied.
While Beijing has repeatedly rebuked governments and organizations that mention human rights in the context of the Olympics, the reality is that no one has politicized the Games more profoundly than China.
China tied the Olympics to government reform when it promised the IOC in 2001 that the Games would make it loosen its reins on the press and freedom of speech. It has also used the Olympic torch relay as a symbol of its glory and rising prestige, sending the flame on the most ambitious tour in its history, escorted by paramilitary officers.
The route included Tibet and Xinjiang, where authorities did everything within their power to portray stability in these hot spots of discontent. Police reportedly launched a campaign of intimidation, detaining thousands of Uighurs deemed to be potential protesters ahead of the relay.
China has also politicized the Games by attempting to include Taiwan in its domestic torch route while preventing the nation’s medal-winning taekwondo team from training there ahead of competition.
Beijing would do better to take its cue from one government that — unlike China, Europe and the US — is manifestly unconcerned about political symbolism and press freedoms in China as the Olympics near: the Ma Ying-jeou (馬英九) administration.
Ma’s government has quickly established a policy of avoiding any topic that might upset Beijing.
This silence is only one of a number of ingratiating gestures that the government has made with the intention of positioning the nation to reap the economic benefits of Chinese tourists and investors.
The government is also trying to portray talks with Beijing as apolitical. This is about the economy, it argues — sovereignty can be dealt with later.
Yet the government’s negotiations are being depicted as a thawing of tensions. Much like the Games, the apolitical label is hard to sustain.
Detente is not possible between two governments through “apolitical” negotiations if one threatens the other with violence and does not recognize it as legitimate. Nor does it help if one side refers to the other’s head of state as “Mister.”
Taiwan’s government, anxious to fulfill its campaign promise to boost GDP, has politicized an ostensibly economic process by faithfully steering clear of Beijing’s soft spots.
Last week, China signaled that it would keep the upper hand at the negotiating table by setting a daily quota of 1,000 tourists traveling to Taiwan — a stark contrast to Ma’s promised figure of 3,000.
Again it can be seen that Beijing feels no obligation to match expressions of goodwill. The Chinese leadership must be feeling confident that Ma is in no position to bargain; Taiwan’s government thus would do better to demand respect from China in turn.
There is danger in the proposition that a series of concessions by one side alone can bring about mutual respect on the right to exist. The charade of politics-free conciliation will almost certainly undermine the nation’s bargaining power on something much more valuable than cross-strait charter flights: sovereignty.
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