China's political Games
ALTHOUGH the motto "faster, higher, stronger" expresses an ideal of athleticism that transcends borders, the Olympic Games have long been an exercise in politics by other means. The International Olympic Committee routinely deplores efforts to use the quadrennial Summer Games as an occasion to protest a host country's policies.
China is sticking to the same script. As the Beijing Games begin, human-rights advocates want the emerging power to answer for its suppression of political freedom, its recent crackdown in Tibet, and its support for murderous regimes in Sudan, Burma, and Zimbabwe. China's communist rulers will have none of it. "China's firm stance," a Foreign Ministry spokesman insisted earlier this summer, "is to oppose politicizing the Olympic Games, and especially using them to interfere in China's domestic affairs."
The government's prickly complaint rings false, for China itself is plainly using the Games for political purposes - and not only to celebrate its emergence as a world power. For China's rulers, the event is also a test of how much they can make international organizations and other governments play by Beijing's rules.
Seven years ago, when Beijing was awarded the right to host the Games, optimists on the International Olympic Committee believed that media scrutiny and an influx of visitors from around the world would strengthen the cause of openness in China.
And yet the opposite has occurred. The run-up to the Olympics offered an occasion to tamp down political protest and sweep up dissidents, all in the name of avoiding embarrassing protests. After an earthquake in Sichuan province, Chinese officials initially showed a willingness to let reporters roam. But as the initial relief effort gave way to tough questions about shoddy construction, the regime's old habits of secrecy and self-preservation won out.
These instincts are all the more destructive because Beijing is using its growing influence abroad to shield other governments from accountability. China presents its approach as noninterference in other nations' affairs. But in practice, this means supporting Burmese generals who murder monks, opposing sanctions against a Zimbabwean ruler who steals elections, and buying oil from a Sudanese government that has supervised genocide in Darfur.
Despite all this, the IOC has been willing to let its Games be used for political ends. The committee did protest mildly when a Communist Party boss used a torch relay ceremony to proclaim China's supremacy in Tibet. But when China backtracked on commitments not to hinder visiting reporters' Internet access, the committee acquiesced.
The panel isn't alone in its reluctance to press China on human rights. While President Bush was expected to criticize China's record in a speech in Bangkok last night, he turned down calls to boycott at least the opening ceremonies of what activists have dubbed the "genocide Olympics." He is even scheduled to attend services Sunday in a church approved by the Chinese government - an odd step for a president so closely identified with religious causes.
From time to time over the last seven years, the Olympic spotlight has prompted China's rulers to hold back. But as the Beijing Games open, the Beijing government appears increasingly confident in having things its own way. 