While the U.S. economy continues to usher in a new era of fear and loathing, China faces its own transitional crisis: the age of post-Olympic discovery. At first blush, comparing a disaster of epic proportions to the comparitvely still waters of national reconstruction seems a bit rash. After all, while it's true that to the victor goes the spoils (51 gold medals is 51 gold medals is 51 gold medals), it's also true that nobody remembers pyrrhic victories (by globalization standards, 51 gold medals ranks a distant third to human rights infringements, staying true to your word, and putting drinkable milk on grocery store shelves).
But as is usually the case with China, symbols transcend results. Winning more golds than anyone else is exactly the kind of paradoxical achievement that enables New China to keep marching to the beat of its own hollow drummer -- trumpeting one-note nationalism while still keeping the high hat and the snare of individual athletic prowess intact.
It's no wonder, then, that Chinese authorities and their appointed media shills have worked overtime to keep the legacy in an extra-crispy ziplock. Even national luminaries are catching feelings. Said Yao Ming (in his best Are You There God? It's Me Margaret voice): "I have just played in the most important competition of my career. Is my life over?" He then added: "You have to be Chinese to understand part of that feeling now."
Sure, part of that feeling is simply a case of the doldrums -- an inescapable reality for teens hitting puberty, 9-5ers and Olympic heroes alike. And it's not like people in China are walking around toting visible amounts of existential baggage. But years of conventional wisdom suggested that China's first-world eligibility card would be revoked with even the slightest trangression on an international stage. The Beijing Olympics were supposed to answer once and for all questions about accountability, about the perils of overinvestment, about playing by the hard, fast rules of a new world order.
Instead, the Chinese government went Sinatra on everyone. They did things their way, and weren't shy about it either (diplomatic immunity, thy name is the IOC).
As a result, though, its people now face the burden of inflated expectations, both individually and collectively -- neither of which they asked for. The cognitive dissonance can be deafening. At the state-owned television channel where I work, old programming protocol is summarily dismissed, weeklies become dailies, and time slots are shuffled about like a game of roulette -- all without the slightest explanation or hesitation. Never mind that by all early indications, ratings across the board have suffered. Or that we haven't added anyone new to the payroll since July, which means running the rat race means having to work twice as hard, and get half as far. From top to bottom, the age-old mantra "know your role" gets repeated, but with a twist: only by thinking inside the box can one eventually hope to reap the benefits that rest tantalizingly outside it.
You see, when you're an employee of corporate China, it always feels like you're a day late and a dollar short. Working toward an arbitrary payoff decided by arbitrary, fickle powers that be. It's the equivalent -- and here's a metaphor that any true blue American should recognize -- of being a Chicago Cubs fan: wait til next year. Except that when next year finally arrives, it's not just the team that's changed --you realize the game you're playing is no longer recognizable, with the stakes having been raised too.
Compound that by having to face a whole new chorus of boobirds, who have found their silver bullet in the form of the spoiled milk scandal, and it's hard not to perceive the entire global community as one giant congregation of fairweather fans, ready for a good ole fashioned tar-and-feathering when the losses start piling up.
Luckily, redemption is nigh -- in 2010, all eyes will be back on China when it hosts the World Expo. Gentlemen (and women), be prepared to hedge your bets. Because we should all know by now that there's only two possible outcomes here: epic success or epic fail (with the latter result being far likelier, of course). At long last, the world will know the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth about whether or not China can measure up to the standards of a certifiable, sustainable superpower. Anything less will not be tolerated.
Sound familiar?