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The Politics of Sports: Watching the World Cup in Beijing (Daniel A. Bell - Dissent)
November 29, 2006 10:51 PM
Copyright Dissent
Fall 2006
China did not qualify for the 2006 World Cup, yet there was almost fanatical enthusiasm for the games in Beijing. Because the matches were played in the middle of the night, many Beijingers slept during the day. This gave a brief respite from Beijing�s notorious traffic jams, and the number of emergency calls to the city hotline decreased by 11 percent during the hours of the games. My son�s end-of-year examinations were scheduled during the three-day interval between two rounds. I was told that the dates were purposefully chosen.
A Soft Spot for Great Historical Powers
What explains the passion that people showed for the game? It is hard to imagine Americans, say, getting so excited about victories by other nations in an international tournament for which their national team had failed to qualify. In the United States, although there is some ethnic-based enthusiasm for particular teams�Italian Americans support the Italian team, Mexican Americans support the Mexican team, and so on�the World Cup does not occupy center stage of social life. But the United States may be an outlying case. In many parts of the world�from South Africa to India to China�the bulk of ordinary citizens became crazed about soccer during the World Cup, even without any national team in the competition. This worldwide obsession can be explained partly by the usual commercial considerations: clever branding and marketing that tap the widespread desire to be part of a global event in countries of rising affluence.
In China, though, there may also be more particular political factors. As Yu Maochun of the U.S. Naval Academy notes, China�s decision, for the first time in its history, to allow live broadcasting of the 1978 World Cup in Argentina was a turning point in China�s political history because of the excitement it generated. For the first time since the revolution, the Chinese nation, exhausted by the Communist Party�s incessant political campaigns, realized that the world could be excited by something other than Marxism and class struggle. Francesco Sisci, the distinguished correspondent for La Stampa, offers an explanation for current interest. The two best-read newspapers in China, selling well over a million copies each every day, are Cankao Xiaoxi and Huanqiu Shibao. They cover mainly international news. Many popular local papers cover local news. In both cases, the reporting does not stray too far from the facts and deals with issues that people care about. All national news, however, is official propaganda and thus uninteresting. So the Chinese develop strong local and international interests but pay less attention to national affairs than do most citizens of liberal democratic countries.[1]
One might predict that there will be a rise in interest in national affairs if the media open up and the political system democratizes, with controversial national issues being publicly aired and discussed. There may also be a corresponding decrease in interest in international affairs. In Taiwan, arguably, democratization has focused debates on national affairs and there is, consequently, less interest in international affairs, including international sports. The recent political opening may help to explain why the World Cup did not generate the same level of enthusiasm in Taiwan as in mainland China (there are other factors, such as Taiwanese enthusiasm for baseball).
Educated Chinese in particular have a special interest in international affairs, including international sports.
Still, the sheer beauty of global soccer cannot be discounted as the key reason for interest in the sport. The more interesting question, perhaps, is why the Chinese support particular teams with such passion. In the 2002 World Cup, I expected that Asian solidarity would play an important role. The Chinese team had been eliminated in the first round, but the South Korean team performed unexpectedly well. I watched the quarter-final match between Germany and South Korea in a Beijing bar, and to my surprise the crowd burst into applause when Germany scored and eventually won the match. I was told that support for Germany can be explained by the fact that German soccer is shown on Chinese television, and most Chinese are more familiar with German players. One friend said that Koreans (along with the Taiwanese) are known to be the most exploitative employers of Chinese workers. But I also detected a certain amount of resentment at the fact that the �younger brother� was upstaging his elders.
This year, I did not have such illusions.[2]
Paik Wooyeal has noted that the tendency to cheer against neighboring country teams may be more universal. For example, the Swiss Germans cheer against the German team, the English against the French, and so on. Could it be that the history of warfare between neighbors still forms preferences in sports? Or perhaps there is a natural tendency to be jealous of a neighbor�s success?
There was enthusiasm for the Korean team in the Wudaokou area of Beijing, home to many Korean students. But the �lao Beijing� (old-time Beijingers) I spoke to rejoiced at Korea�s early exit. In the case of Japan, the antagonism is more obvious. There were few public spaces to observe the performance of the Japanese team during the World Cup. Most bars in the Wudaokou area did not show the games with Japan, and there was an unusually heavy police presence during the games, purportedly because the government feared anti-Japanese riots that could spin out of control. Fortunately for the authorities, the Japanese team did not win any games and failed to advance to the next round.
MY OWN LOYALTIES lie with underdog teams. In 2002, I was a big fan of Korea. My Korean friends took great pride in what they called the �spiritual power� of their team, which compensated for lack of talent and experience, and their enthusiasm rubbed off on me. In 2006, I supported Ghana, the best-performing African country, which played with such heart and excitement. Perhaps left-wing political sensibilities naturally lend themselves to support for teams from relatively poor and not-so-famous countries. A win would give a great boost to their national confidence, and it might have positive economic spillovers. Surely Ghana needs more of a boost than the United States.[3]
Ghana eliminated the United States from the 2006 World Cup with a thrilling two-to-one victory, but I could not make my joy too explicit during the game itself. I watched the game with my son, who holds an American passport, and since he was cheering for the U.S. team I did not want to upset him. It is difficult to persuade children that their team loyalties should be determined at least partly by principles of international economic justice.
There may also be psychological reasons to support underdogs. They appeal to the romantic element in the soul. Think how many Hollywood movies end with the triumph of underdog athletes and teams.
There is no such preference for the underdog in China. Quite the opposite, in fact. Chinese fans support traditional soccer powers such as Germany, England, Brazil, Argentina, and Italy. It is difficult to overestimate the passion for such teams. In the 2002 World Cup, the CCTV hostess Sheng Bin wept openly at Argentina�s early exit. When England went down in defeat against Portugal in 2006, my son�s piano teacher�s husband was so depressed he could barely get out of bed. Partly, the preference for traditional soccer powers can be explained by the love of the game: Chinese fans support teams that have performed well in the past and are likely to generate exciting games in the future. But there may also be a special form of internationalist nationalism at work. The support for established teams may be an expression of a more general appreciation for nations with long and rich histories and cultures. As director of the Institute of Italian culture in Beijing, Francesco Sisci could find common ground with his Chinese counterparts by appealing to their love of history, by showing how Italy served as a cradle of Western civilization just as China served as the cradle of East Asian civilization.
Conversely, the Chinese won�t cheer for underdogs or relatively small teams and countries without substantial talent, global impact, or long histories. In soccer, this means they won�t cheer for teams like Australia (�Would you cheer for a bunch of beer-guzzling upstarts?� as one friend put it) if they�re up against the more established soccer powers. In politics, it means that they won�t sympathize much with the aspirations of small nations or minorities, such as the Francophones of Quebec (not to mention Taiwan and Tibet). The only way to address this concern is for such small powers to show that they are worthy of global admiration. If Australia develops into a global soccer power over, say, thirty years, as opposed to scoring occasional fluke victories, it will gain the sympathy of the Chinese. If Quebec produces great achievements that the rest of the world can appreciate, it may gain the admiration of the Chinese. (Even though I�m from Quebec, I�m hard-pressed to explain what�s great about my home province; nobody in China has ever heard of Guy Lafleur.)
What�s Wrong with Being Biased?
In 2006, the most striking public display of passion for a traditional soccer power occurred at the end of the quarter-final match between Italy and Australia. China�s best-known soccer announcer, Huang Jianxiang, was unable to control his enthusiasm when Fabio Grosso went down in the penalty area and a last-minute penalty kick was awarded to the Italians.
It is worth quoting in full the official Chinese translation by the Xinhua news agency. Huang screamed,
Penalty! Penalty! Penalty! Grosso�s done it, Grosso�s done it! The great Italian left back! He succeeded in the glorious traditions of Italy! Facchetti, Cabrini and Maldini, their souls are infused in him at this moment! Grosso represents the long history and traditions of soccer, he�s not fighting alone at this moment! He�s not alone! Grosso represents the long history and traditions of Italian soccer! He is not fighting alone!
As Francesco Totti prepared to take the penalty kick that would win the match, Huang shouted himself hoarse.
Totti! He is about to take the shot. He shoulders the expectations of the whole world. Goooooal! Game over! Italy wins! Beat the Australians! They do not fall in front of Hiddink again! [Hiddink, the Australian coach, had led the South Korean team that ousted Italy in the 2002 World Cup.] Italy the great! Left back the great! Happy birthday to Paolo Maldini! Long live Italy! The victory belongs to Italy, to Grosso, to Cannavaro, to Zambrotta, to Buffon, to Maldini, to everyone who loves Italian soccer! Hiddink lost his courage faced with Italian history and traditions! He finally reaped what he had sown! They should go home. They don�t need to fly as far as Australia as most of them are living in Europe. Farewell!
As I listened to Huang�s outburst, I could hear similar cries of joy from my neighboring flats (it was about 1 a.m.). I was deeply moved by this manifestation of enthusiasm for another country�s triumph, by the love shown for another country�s history and traditions. I was also amused, because the Chinese formulation of the �Long Live� idiom�literally, �Italy, Ten Thousand Years!��used to be invoked by enthusiastic crowds for Mao and the Communist Party (�Chairman Mao, Ten Thousand Years!�).
To my surprise, Huang�s comments generated a storm of controversy. Popular Chinese portals such as sina.com and sohu.com�s online discussion forums were flooded with opinions for and against them. Beijing blogger Fly Show had a post titled �Huang �Long Live Italy� Jianxiang, you can go home now… . Sorry, Australia, please forgive our crazy man!� According to an unconfirmed text circulating on the Internet, more than thirty Australian soccer supporters surrounded the Australian embassy in Beijing the next day, demanding that the ambassador make a formal complaint to the Chinese government about Huang�s commentary. A couple of days later, Huang issued a letter of public apology:
Dear soccer fans and TV viewers around the country, I have attached too much personal feeling to the match. After I woke up this morning, I reviewed the video of the match and I feel there is some injustice and prejudice in my comment. I will make formal apologies to viewers. I am familiar with Italian football and I hope that the Italians can gain a berth in the last eight, which will make the matches in the future more exciting, but I have mingled my feeling with … my job. It is not a standpoint that a TV commentator should have … I will draw the lesson from this case and … keep my personal feeling and job balanced. When we broadcast the matches, we hope referees can be just, and as a commentator, I will try my best to be fair and to do a good job.
Are announcers supposed to be neutral and unbiased? I suggest that Huang may not be drawing the right lesson from this episode (assuming that his apology was sincere; more likely, it was forced upon him). For one thing, there may be political reasons to favor passionate and controversial announcers. The key political catchword in China is �stability,� and the government closely monitors the media (not to mention political organs) to ensure that controversial views are not aired. If the system fails to live up to the �ideal,� then �stability� is threatened, and the government uses various carrots and sticks to restore the status quo. In this case, the government-run television station repeatedly ran footage of Australia�s achievements in soccer along with the subtitles proclaiming �Australia bows out like true heroes,� presumably to appease the pro-Australia contingent that may have been angered by Huang�s outburst. And Huang himself was dismissed from further World Cup commentary on Italian games. In my view, Huang was sorely missed. The announcer for the next two Italy games�including its win over France in the final�was dreadfully dull, and he did not seem nearly as well informed as Huang. But the more worrisome point is that the government also invoked the sort of harsh tactics meted out to political opponents of the regime, such as depriving them of job opportunities. Is that what the Australian supporters really wanted? Is this the way to deal with controversy in society, particularly in the context of a political system that frowns upon public expressions of passion and emotion?
There may also be cultural reasons to question the assumption that announcers are supposed to be neutral. Another model, perhaps more deeply rooted in Chinese culture, is that announcers should be like well-informed teachers, explaining to the viewer which players and teams express certain qualities and virtues. Announcers are not merely transmitting factual information; they are supposed to draw moral lessons for the viewers/students. It is up to the viewers/students to decide whether they agree with the announcers/teachers. And those who disagree should gently remonstrate with the teachers, not use force to show disagreement. The fact that many Chinese bloggers supported Huang suggests that the normative model of the teacher/announcer still resonates in contemporary China (according to an online survey by sina.com, nearly half the respondents said Huang�s comments were not unfair; one of the most popular new cell phone rings mimics Huang�s now famous enthusiasm for the Italian victory over Australia). I do not deny that there may be other explanations, such as widespread support for the Italian team in Chinese society; but it is difficult to imagine such a level of approval for outwardly biased announcers in, say, Sweden or Canada. The ideal of neutrality as applied to various spheres of social life�not simply for judges and referees, but also for announcers, officials, teachers, even parents and friends�seems too deeply ingrained in Western societies.
The Dangers of Self-Regarding Nationalism
The most moving aspect of Huang�s outburst is the love he showed for another country. He was celebrating �the glorious traditions of Italy�! If the same outburst had been made by an Italian announcer, it would have seemed distasteful, at least to an outsider. The talk of �Italy the Great!,� with the announcer almost foaming at the mouth, would have conjured up images of Italy�s fascist past. Shortly after the controversial game, Huang�s off-the-cuff response pointed to more dangerous manifestations of nationalism: �Australia reminded me of the lousy team that eliminated China in the World Cup qualifiers in 1981 … Australia will now fight for an Asian World Cup berth and it may not be good enough to handle South Korea and Japan. But it will very likely take advantage of the Chinese team. So I don�t like it.� Such sentiments may be magnified when Chinese athletes achieve world-class status, say, in the Olympics, or perhaps in soccer a couple of decades from now. At that point, the Huangs will be cheering for their own team, and they may show an aggressive hostility to opponents, with potentially dangerous political consequences. There was a significant wave of anti-Americanism in China when the Americans beat the Chinese in the 1999 Women�s World Cup, to the point that the U.S. State Department issued a warning to Americans in China to keep a low profile (but this was also shortly after the bombing of the Chinese embassy in Belgrade during the Kosovo War[4]
The Clinton administration claimed that the bombing was unintentional and apologized for the bombing and the loss of life, but there is widespread skepticism in China regarding the official U.S. explanation.
).
Perhaps I overstate the concern. Just as orthodox religious groups sometimes have respect for each other�s commitments (and contempt for agnostic liberals and atheists), so soccer fans can find mutual joy in national commitments. In the leadoff to the game between Portugal and Germany, enthusiastic fans wrapped in the flags of their respective countries engaged in joint celebrations. Such fans appreciate each other�s passionate commitment to their own teams; they have far more in common with each other than with people indifferent to soccer. Moreover, self-regarding nationalism can be trumped by love of the game. In the case of China, its own fans turn on the team when it performs poorly, as in the 2002 World Cup match when China was crushed by Brazil four to nothing. Even if China becomes a world power in soccer, there is no guarantee that its fans will give it unconditional support, judging by the experience of other soccer powers. French fans could not muster much enthusiasm for their own team following Zinedine Zidane�s vicious headbutt in the final game against Italy. Fans will often be critical if their own national team fails to display virtues that are universally honored.
STILL, THERE are real dangers associated with self-regarding nationalism. The Chinese state�s pursuit of Olympic gold medals illustrates these dangers. China�s best athletes are selected at a very young age and made to undergo rigorous state-sponsored physical education, with little attention paid to other forms of learning. The athletes are used by the state to score political points, and the announcers at Olympic Games make less-than-subtle claims about the greatness of the Chinese nation. As the influential journalist Sang Ye puts it, �For China, athletics has little to do with sport per se. It is not concerned with either physical health or personal well-being. For the Chinese, athletic competitions are a struggle between political systems. They are a heady opiate administered to salve dreams of national glory� (see Sang Ye�s revealing interview with an elite athlete in China Candid [University of California Press, 2006]). The near-term goal is to surpass the U.S. gold medal tally at the 2008 Olympic games in Beijing.
Ironically, such an approach to sports owes its origins to ancient Greece, where city-states engaged in intense military competition, fighting for either survival or expansion. There was naturally much emphasis on the training of soldiers, and state-sponsored physical education�designed to toughen bodies and (as Aristotle says) to �foster the virtue of courage��developed as a by-product. Greek states actively promoted interstate sporting competitions�most famously, the Olympics�and the main point of competing was to bring glory to the state. The whole system was geared to a �winner-take-all� mentality: there wasn�t even a prize for second place. The winners were treated as conquering heroes by their home states, and they were showered with material benefits, such as free meals for life.
China�s own political tradition (and, to a certain extent, earlier political practice) points to an alternative approach that may be more desirable for modern societies. The Confucian view is that physical activity should be tied to the pursuit of nonmilitaristic virtues and that the test of success should be its contribution to moral and intellectual development rather than to victory in sporting competitions. Such an ideal is realized by means of rituals that civilize and elevate, particularly in the context of competitive relationships that might otherwise degenerate into hostility and antagonism, if not warfare. This ideal is not entirely unrealistic in contemporary societies. Mencius�s account of the archer�s psychological reaction to �failure���an archer makes sure his stance is correct before letting fly the arrow, and if he fails to hit the mark, he does not hold it against the victor. He simply seeks the cause within himself��is not dissimilar to the tennis player who graciously shakes the winner�s hand after the game and pursues a rigorous self-improvement program afterward. Confucius�s account of the gentleman-archer echoes the rituals of sumo wrestlers: �Exemplary persons are not competitive, but they must still compete in archery. Greeting and making way for each other, the archers ascend the hall, and returning they drink a salute. Even during competition, they are exemplary persons.� In soccer, the relevant rituals include helping opponents up after a fall and exchanging sweat-soaked shirts at the end of the game. These rituals need not be incompatible with passionate support for one team. In the 2002 World Cup, the Koreans were fanatical supporters of their own team. But after the team�s loss to Turkey for the third-place spot in front of its home crowd, the Korean team formed a circle and collectively bowed to the audience as a show of gratitude. The crowd responded with a tremendous ovation, for the Korean team and, more surprisingly, for the victorious Turkish team. There may be particular reasons for this response�many South Koreans are grateful to Turkey because of its support in the Korean War half a century ago�but such moving scenes show how Confucian-style rituals can tame the excesses of national bias. It is no coincidence that Korea is widely held to be the most Confucian country in East Asia. For the 2008 Olympic Games in Beijing, perhaps the Chinese can seek inspiration from Confucian rather than Greek athletic ideals.[5]
I do not mean to imply that the quest for gold medals should be entirely subordinated to the concern for Confucian civility. I�ve yet to recover from the disappointment that Canada did not win any gold medals during the 1976 Olympics in Montreal (nor am I proud of the fact that Canada remains the only country ever to host the summer Olympics without winning a gold medal). My point is that Confucian civility should be an important concern and that national glory should not simply be focused on the quest for victory. Nations engaged in international sporting competitions can also take pride in their civility, decency, and sense of justice.
The idea for this essay emerged from exchanges that took place during the 2006 World Cup on ChinaPOL, an e-mail list of academics and journalists working on Chinese politics. I would like to thank the participants in these exchanges. Special thanks to Richard Baum, Avner de-Shalit, Bruce Jacobs, David Kelly, Donald Keyser, Parag Khanna, Paik Wooyeal, Francesco Sisci, Michael Walzer, and Yu Maochun for helpful comments on an earlier draft of this essay.
Daniel A. Bell is Professor, Department of Philosophy, Tsinghua University, Beijing. His latest books are Beyond Liberal Democracy: Political Thinking for an East Asian Context (Princeton University Press, 2006) and the co-edited volume (with Jean-Marc Coicaud) Ethics in Action: The Ethical Challenges of International Human Rights NGOs (Cambridge University Press, 2006). He can be reached at daniel.a.bell@gmail.com.
Footnotes:
1.) One might predict that there will be a rise in interest in national affairs if the media open up and the political system democratizes, with controversial national issues being publicly aired and discussed. There may also be a corresponding decrease in interest in international affairs. In Taiwan, arguably, democratization has focused debates on national affairs and there is, consequently, less interest in international affairs, including international sports. The recent political opening may help to explain why the World Cup did not generate the same level of enthusiasm in Taiwan as in mainland China (there are other factors, such as Taiwanese enthusiasm for baseball).
2.) Paik Wooyeal has noted that the tendency to cheer against neighboring country teams may be more universal. For example, the Swiss Germans cheer against the German team, the English against the French, and so on. Could it be that the history of warfare between neighbors still forms preferences in sports? Or perhaps there is a natural tendency to be jealous of a neighbor�s success?
3.) Ghana eliminated the United States from the 2006 World Cup with a thrilling two-to-one victory, but I could not make my joy too explicit during the game itself. I watched the game with my son, who holds an American passport, and since he was cheering for the U.S. team I did not want to upset him. It is difficult to persuade children that their team loyalties should be determined at least partly by principles of international economic justice.
4.) The Clinton administration claimed that the bombing was unintentional and apologized for the bombing and the loss of life, but there is widespread skepticism in China regarding the official U.S. explanation.
5.) I do not mean to imply that the quest for gold medals should be entirely subordinated to the concern for Confucian civility. I�ve yet to recover from the disappointment that Canada did not win any gold medals during the 1976 Olympics in Montreal (nor am I proud of the fact that Canada remains the only country ever to host the summer Olympics without winning a gold medal). My point is that Confucian civility should be an important concern and that national glory should not simply be focused on the quest for victory. Nations engaged in international sporting competitions can also take pride in their civility, decency, and sense of justice.
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