Some took issue with the lack of French content. Others focused on the small glitch at the end of the ceremony, when one of the legs forming the Olympic torch failed to rise. A few have complained about the fact that the other torch — the one displayed outside — is surrounded by barbed wire and inaccessible to the general public.
For this author, it was the exploitation of Aborigines: Even though they were given prominent position during the opening ceremony of the Vancouver Winter Olympics, Canada’s natives continue to be treated as second-rate citizens by the Canadian government and remain largely impoverished.
Case in point: Of the 206 athletes who are representing Canada in the Games, only one — snowboarder Caroline Calve from Quebec — is an Aborigine. If the Canadian team were truly representative of Canada’s ethnic fabric, there would be seven or eight Aborigines on the team (about 4 percent of the population identify as Aboriginal). Canada will also have only one Aborigine — Colette Bourgonje — at the Paralympic Winter Games next month.
‘AUTHENTIC’
That some of the “authentic” First Nations Olympic souvenirs were found to have been manufactured in China, Italy and Thailand, when one in four children in First Nations communities lives in poverty (the highest rate is in British Columbia), also underscores the handicap that Canada’s Aborigines face today.
That said, artistic director David Atkins gave us an eyeful on Feb. 12, turning BC Place in Vancouver into a dreamlike scene that blended actors, dancers, an unprecedented use of projectors, as well as poetry and music. For many, the highlights were the wonderful narration by Canadian actor Donald Sutherland and K.D. Lang’s haunting rendition of the great Leonard Cohen’s Hallelujah, where the signer stood, alone, among millions of bright stars in the night.
Above all, the ceremony distinguished itself through its focus on the individual and its embrace of difference. Carrying the Olympic flag, for example, were individuals such as Romeo Dallaire, who led UN peacekeeping forces during the Rwandan genocide in 1994. The torch, meanwhile, was carried in by Rick Hansen, a paraplegic athlete. Lang is lesbian. Hockey great Wayne Gretzky did not light the torch alone; he was one among equals.
This was quite the contrast with the opening ceremonies in Beijing in August 2008, where the individual could not be distinguished from the masses and where a child was deemed not pretty enough (she had crooked teeth) to sing before the public and was therefore replaced by a picture-perfect lip-synching stand-in. Beijing gave many a frisson, a spectacular feat that sent a chill down one’s spine. It screamed nationalism unleashed, the setting in motion of a wheel that crushed the individual on its road to glory. And criticism of the ceremony — at least domestically — was silenced.
HUMILITY
In the end, Atkins’ work was far more moving for its centering on the individual and its humility in design. It was much more intimate and drew the spectator in rather than keep him at bay. However grandiose Zhang Yimou’s (張藝謀) Beijing feat may have been, it was difficult to connect emotionally with his work. It was exclusive rather than inclusive, meant to intimidate rather than to inspire.
Ultimately, Vancouver showed maturity and confidence, something that was lacking in Beijing — and continues to be lacking today. Humility can be strength where muscular fanfare is a sign of weakness.
J. Michael Cole is an editor at the Taipei Times.
Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus whip Fu Kun-chi (傅?萁) has caused havoc with his attempts to overturn the democratic and constitutional order in the legislature. If we look at this devolution from the context of a transition to democracy from authoritarianism in a culturally Chinese sense — that of zhonghua (中華) — then we are playing witness to a servile spirit from a millennia-old form of totalitarianism that is intent on damaging the nation’s hard-won democracy. This servile spirit is ingrained in Chinese culture. About a century ago, Chinese satirist and author Lu Xun (魯迅) saw through the servile nature of
In their New York Times bestseller How Democracies Die, Harvard political scientists Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt said that democracies today “may die at the hands not of generals but of elected leaders. Many government efforts to subvert democracy are ‘legal,’ in the sense that they are approved by the legislature or accepted by the courts. They may even be portrayed as efforts to improve democracy — making the judiciary more efficient, combating corruption, or cleaning up the electoral process.” Moreover, the two authors observe that those who denounce such legal threats to democracy are often “dismissed as exaggerating or
Monday was the 37th anniversary of former president Chiang Ching-kuo’s (蔣經國) death. Chiang — a son of former president Chiang Kai-shek (蔣介石), who had implemented party-state rule and martial law in Taiwan — has a complicated legacy. Whether one looks at his time in power in a positive or negative light depends very much on who they are, and what their relationship with the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) is. Although toward the end of his life Chiang Ching-kuo lifted martial law and steered Taiwan onto the path of democratization, these changes were forced upon him by internal and external pressures,
The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) caucus in the Legislative Yuan has made an internal decision to freeze NT$1.8 billion (US$54.7 million) of the indigenous submarine project’s NT$2 billion budget. This means that up to 90 percent of the budget cannot be utilized. It would only be accessible if the legislature agrees to lift the freeze sometime in the future. However, for Taiwan to construct its own submarines, it must rely on foreign support for several key pieces of equipment and technology. These foreign supporters would also be forced to endure significant pressure, infiltration and influence from Beijing. In other words,