Politics in Pyeongchang Olympics
It’s sure to be an extraordinary spectacle: North and South Korean athletes marching together at the Olympic Opening Ceremony under the Korean Unification flag, a blue silhouette of the Korean Peninsula against a plain white background. Athletes from both countries competing side-by-side as a team, obeying the same rules, wearing the same uniforms, pursuing the same goals, sharing the same outcome. This is not the “Pyongyang Olympics,” as protestors have called it, but a momentous occasion that will symbolize unity and hope.
I was astounded when I first learned of these decisions mid-January. I had been fretting over the rising tensions and warnings of impending conflict for months. Though my father—who disregards North Korean threats like most in my country—had attempted to reassure me on numerous occasions, it wasn’t until this promise of an international exhibit of peace that I gained some peace in my own mind. I figured it was about time the two Koreas took matters into their own hands. Between reckless threats of “fire and fury” and empty claims that “eventually, it will all work out,” Trump proved himself useless long ago.
“How can one think that the players would take this situation in a good mood when anyone can become such a sacrificed player?”
The more I learned about these initiatives, however, the more disillusioned I became about their sincerity and meaning. I couldn’t understand why women’s ice hockey, out of all teams, became the only one to be merged with the North. My question was answered shortly after when our Prime Minister Lee Nak-yeon suggested that the women’s hockey team could be sacrificed for political purposes because it was “not a medal contender.” His statement was not only blatantly sexist and disrespectful towards the team, but it also undermined the immeasurable value of unity with North Korea by suggesting its worth could be weighed against an Olympic medal.
The nature of the decision inevitably bred resentment, for it would result in less playing time for the athletes and had been made against the team’s wishes to begin with. “How can one think that the players would take this situation in a good mood when anyone can become such a sacrificed player?” questioned Lee Min-ji, who was removed from the Olympic roster as a result of the merge.
The decision to combine teams at an event, where frenzied national pride is often on display, has reinforced the greater notion that Korean unity can only come at the unfair expense of personal and national sacrifice. The principal argument for those who oppose reunification has always been that its economic and societal costs would far outweigh the benefits. Though a single Olympic roster might seem insignificant in the grander scheme of events, this year’s Winter Olympics have turned into a widely broadcasted stage for political drama (which is rather ironic, considering the whole point of these efforts was to look past political differences). This means that any act or decision associated with the Olympics has the ability to ignite strong national sentiments about North Korea as a whole.
Trump’s administration, as always, hasn’t been much of a help. Pence’s vow to “ensure from a messaging standpoint that [the Olympics] isn’t turned into two weeks of propaganda” was not only a foolish one, but it also disregarded the importance of our efforts to establish peace with the common foe. How does the Trump administration plan to stop North Korean propaganda exactly? Last time I checked, “Little Rocket Man” didn’t care much about the American vice president. A willingness to put on a cordial and negotiating front, however ingenuine it might be, is much better than what we’ve gotten from North Korea over the past few months. It should have served as a pleasant surprise for Americans, particularly seeing as the efforts did not require any national concessions on their part.
By now, it has become abundantly clear that this supposed display of Korean solidarity isn’t as great as it sounds. As someone who desperately desires unity between the two countries, I find it upsetting that the best the two governments could come up with, 65 years after our divide, was a combined ice hockey team and a recycled flag from 1991. But I’ve decided regardless to take what I can get. These tense couple of years have set the bar low, and I’m sure the Olympic spectacle itself will prove quite spectacular, as long as we take it at face value.