Criticizing China for not living up to its stated commitments on human rights and press freedom is easy. So easy, in fact, that in some quarters of the international community Beijing seems to elicit something approaching sympathy simply for being under tremendous pressure.
This is even more the case now with the Beijing Olympics on the horizon. And this sympathy can only increase as expressions of genuine excitement among many ordinary Chinese offset the ugly reality of the forced evictions and wild corruption that has accompanied preparations for the Games.
If sympathy is to be directed toward anyone in China, it is these ordinary people, whose pride can be a positive force for not only the image of China that they project to the rest of the world, but also for constructive change to their own country. It is at this level that the Olympics can redeem themselves in the face of government and corporate abuses.
Sadly, this seems to apply less and less to Chinese sportspeople themselves as the Games approach.
Agence France-Presse reported on Wednesday that the Chinese men's soccer team made a public pledge as part of its struggle to advance to the next round of Asia's World Cup qualifiers.
It included this astonishing wording: "I pledge to advance to the World Cup, which is the professional goal that we strive for. We swear by death to kill along the bloody road of defending the honor of the motherland and realize our youthful dreams."
Because this is China, and because China is often not held to the same standard of sportsmanship by international sports authorities, we cannot expect FIFA, the global governing body for soccer, to investigate the matter.
This is noteworthy. For while in isolation the Chinese soccer players come across as insecure and more than a little ridiculous intoning such language, as part of the bigger picture -- in which government expectations/interference and extravagant US$1 million bonuses come into view -- there is reason yet again to be concerned about what it means for Chinese to participate in international tournaments.
Unhappily for the Chinese soccer squad, key matches in the World Cup qualifiers coincide with the lead-up to the Beijing Olympics, which can only increase the pressure on them. Worse, they are in the unofficial "group of death" with three formidable rivals, and only two teams will advance.
Now, after reciting a pledge that would not look out of place in Iran or North Korea, it seems that the Chinese have taken an expression derived from gallows humor rather too seriously.
Of all sports, soccer is the most notorious for the violence that can accompany domestic and international fixtures. But very rarely is this violence a weapon that is directly stoked by national soccer authorities or by governments. It is hoped that this will not change in this case.
But the Chinese team has an unenviable record on the pitch, and its supporters have an equally unenviable reputation for sore losing -- particularly against other Asian teams. With nationalist sentiment growing as August nears, international soccer fans will be witness to a test: Can the Chinese soccer squad conduct itself in a manner more civilized than the public pledges it considers necessary to win matches?
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