The Olympic torch passes through Paris this Monday. It’s a golden opportunity for both athletes and politicians to make headlines… or to remain silent. A matter of courage.
Just hours before this event, in a rather refreshing moment that lasted only a short while, the State Secretary for Human Rights had mentioned, according to Le Monde, “three conditions” for the participation of the President of the Republic in the opening of the Games on August 8th. This was before she was notably contradicted by her supervising Minister. However, taking a stance was logical following the heavy sentencing of the cyber-dissident Hu Jia to prison by Chinese officials who disregarded – or perhaps overly so – repeated French interventions on his behalf. “A real disappointment,” admitted Rama Yade. Above all, it was a harsh failure of the Elysée’s strategy of “assessing the situation to make a decision at the appropriate time”: the purely suggestive and moderate wording of this policy, it seems, did not please Beijing, which has quite simply snuffed out this voice supported by France, if one dares say so. The President of the National Assembly, Bernard Accoyer, refused to allow the Tibetan flag to be displayed on the front of the Palais Bourbon during the torch relay while in the Foreign Affairs Committee on March 25, Minister Bernard Kouchner could not find a better argument to support China than to cite the archaism of women’s rights in Tibet! This was confirmed by the intervention of the MP from Alpes-Maritimes, Lionel Lucca, in his response to the Minister’s hearing: “women sit among the exiled Tibetan deputies and the first vice-president of the Tibetan assembly is indeed a woman.” “Therefore, the theocratic critique is unfounded and is merely Chinese propaganda,” he retorted to the head of Quai d’Orsay.
French athletes also struggle to convey the message of freedom. Spearheaded by pole vaulter Romain Mesnil, the national hopefuls are having a hard time negotiating the wearing of a badge that could be distributed to all delegations. Despite a noticeable awakening among the athletes in competitive circles, their ambitions had to be scaled down at the request of the IOC: intense discussions are hindering the adoption of an agreement to wear this distinctive badge. Moreover, Beijing will have to authorize its wearing during the opening ceremony.
Finally, reunited on March 28th, European foreign ministers exhibited their division on the subject: led by Poland, the countries in favor of boycotting the opening ceremony faced strict German reservations and the enormous financial stakes of sports “sponsorship” from beyond the Rhine.
One might object that Article 51-3 of the Olympic Charter does not tolerate “any kind of demonstration or political, religious, or racial propaganda […]” at any place, site or other Olympic location. But isn’t awarding the 2008 Olympics to China and the 2014 Winter Games to Russia in the hope of bringing these two nations to better human rights standings essentially a political gift? Beijing was not mistaken when, in July 2001, upon the announcement of its successful bid, authorities immediately deployed riot police in the central square of Lhasa.
A flame protected, according to the Paris Police Prefect, like a “head of state” by several thousand police officers during its 27 km journey through Paris. And a national plan developed under the “control” of a delegation of about a dozen members from the Chinese Embassy in Paris and the Chinese Olympic Committee. Indeed, nothing political. Despite 63% of French people favoring action on August 8th, has France, instead of being “more Tibetan than the Tibetans,” become more Chinese than the Chinese?
