PREMIUM NEWSLETTER | ISSUE #34

This week’s newsletter:

◼︎ 1. Editor’s Note – Shaping Olympic narratives
◼︎ 2. What’s New and Noteworthy – A closer look at featured stories
◼︎ 3. What’s Trending – Hot highlights
◼︎ 4. What’s Remarkable – Quan Hongchan is China’s Olympic sweetheart
◼︎ 6. What’s Popular – My Little Pony trading cards
◼︎ 7. What’s Memorable – Fu Yuanhui as a meme
◼︎ 8. Weibo Word of the Week – Olympic-only fans
 

Dear Reader,

Since July 26, Weibo has gone into full Olympic mode. The hot lists, timelines, and news channels are filled with Olympic-related topics. From table tennis to diving, from wrestling to shooting, a wide array of sports events and the accomplishments of China’s star athletes are the main stories of the day.

“The Olympics are as much about stories—many of them political—as they are about sports,” Jacques deLisle wrote¹, arguing that besides the athletic events themselves, political narratives are a central part of the modern Games.

Chinese official channels place great importance on how China performs at the Olympics and the stories they choose to highlight. While the overarching themes of national pride and achievement remain constant, the specific narratives can vary with each major sports event.

These themes & narratives are particularly visible when China is the host country. While the Beijing Summer Olympics marked China’s rise on the international stage, the 2022 Winter Olympics emphasized Chinese cultural confidence and its leadership role in the global community. The latest Asian Games, hosted in Hangzhou, provided an ideal stage to showcase China’s digital advancements and technological innovations, reinforcing the narrative of ‘Team China’ as an international leader in both sports and technology.

As we look at the 2024 Olympics in Paris, there is a shift in focus. With less direct control over the event, there is greater emphasis on media coverage, carefully selecting and highlighting stories and themes that reflect China’s political agenda, social norms, and cultural values.

As one of the country’s leading social media platforms, Weibo and its algorithms actively shape Olympic narratives. The app features a dedicated Olympics section where China’s latest medals are celebrated. Users can engage in athlete fan forums, watch livestreams, explore athlete trends, predict medal counts, and cheer for their favorite stars. State-initiated hashtags dominate the trending lists.

 
China’s Olympic Journey: Strong History, Promising Future
 

One element of China’s Olympic narrative that stands out in the official coverage of Paris 2024 is the continuous connection between past Olympic accomplishments and this year’s events. This year marks forty years since China first competed in the 1984 Los Angeles Olympics with a 216-strong team.²

The focus on the past achievements of China’s athletes was clear from the very first day of these Olympics. When young shooters Huang Yuting (黄雨婷) and Sheng Lihao (盛李豪) won China’s first gold at Paris 2024, state media celebrated by honoring Xu Haifeng (许海峰), who won China’s first-ever Olympic gold in shooting at the 1984 Olympics.

Through social media and TV, Chinese official media and state broadcaster CCTV have been honoring many different athletes who competed for China at the Olympics over the past four decades, such as Zhou Jihong (周继红), who became the first Chinese diver to win a gold medal, or table tennis star Deng Yaping (邓亚萍), who won four Olympic championships.

Chinese state media have been honoring older Chinese athletes who won gold over the past four decades.

By linking current achievements with historic victories, the image of China as a historically strong sports nation is reinforced. This emphasis on physical strength is intended to also strengthen the nation’s identity. Of course, there’s nothing new about that. As early as 1895, the influential scholar Yan Fu emphasized that “a nation is like a human,” asserting that just as physically weak individuals need exercise to strengthen their bodies, China—then seen as the “sick man of Asia”—needed to improve its physical, intellectual, and moral strength, with physical strength being a priority.³

Honoring prior Olympic athletes also creates a lineage of Chinese Olympic talent, with older athletes passing the torch to younger generations. The differences in age are highlighted, such as how Xu, born in the 1950s, won the first Olympic gold, compared to the current champion athletes born fifty years later. These young, post-00s athletes represent China’s promising, bright future.

 
Combating ‘Toxic Fandom’, Encouraging Patriotism & Positivity
 

Beyond the bigger narratives that are about national pride and historical legacy, there is also a heightened focus on the narratives surrounding individual athletes, Olympic fandom, and the social responsibility of Chinese audiences.

Athletes’ stories reflect broader social values of perseverance, humility, and family importance. One example is Chinese female taekwondo medalist Guo Qing (郭清), whose journey from a small village to Paris was highlighted by Guangzhou Daily. As the oldest daughter in a big family, Guo initially started doing taekwondo to improve her strength to help her parents. When she turned out to have exceptional talent, she left her town in the mountains to train at the provincial level. With her salary, she is the main source of income for her parents and her five younger brothers, who are still in school.

Another way the Olympic narrative is controlled revolves around Chinese Olympic fans and their expected positive and patriotic behavior. Some Olympic stars, such as table tennis champions Sun Yingsha (孙颖莎) and Wang Chuqin (王楚钦), have become more than beloved athletes—they’re treated as celebrities, with similar fan group cultures surrounding them.

During the August 3 match, when Sun Yingsha was defeated by her teammate Chen Meng (陈梦), the boos from spectators at the Olympic venue clearly showed that many Chinese fans supported Sun over Chen, despite both being members of Team China. Online, some fans went too far in their idolization of Sun and started smearing Chen.

Authorities made it clear that this kind of fan culture goes against the Olympic spirit China wants to promote. After Saturday’s match, the Ministry of Public Security vowed to crack down on “chaotic sport-related fan circles.” According to Weibo management, over 12,000 posts were deleted and 300 accounts were banned. One woman in Beijing was arrested for posting “defamatory online comments.” State media outlets, such as CCTV, posted commentaries about the elimination of toxic fandoms in sports (“体育饭圈化顽症”).

The thing about the Olympics is that they evoke all kinds of emotions and reactions—not all of them deserve a gold medal. By shaping the narratives and social media discussions surrounding China’s performance, its athletes, and its fans, the Chinese Olympic experience is being polished into one that aligns with the authorities’ vision—positive, non-chaotic, and strong.

There’s much more to say about China during the Olympics—I haven’t even touched on the doping allegations, the sometimes controversial interactions between Chinese athletes and foreigners, and many other stories that have emerged on the margins of the Olympics. That’s why I started the ongoing Olympic file on What’s on Weibo, which I’ll keep adding to until the Paris Games end on the 11th.

Miranda Barnes and Ruixin Zhang have contributed to the compilation and interpretation of some topics featured in this week’s newsletter. As always, if you have any observations or ideas you’d like to share, please don’t hesitate to reach out to me.

Best,
Manya Koetse
(@manyapan)

References:

¹ deLisle, Jacques. 2008. “One World, Different Dreams: The Contest to Define the Beijing Olympics.” In Owning the Olympics: Narratives of the New China, edited by Monroe E. Price and Daniel Dayan, 17-67. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press.

² The history of China at the Olympics goes beyond 1984, but this year was the first time for the People’s Republic of China to reappear at the Olympics since China was an official participant in the Summer Olympics in Helsinki in 1952 (where they actually showed up too late).

³ Xu, Guoqi. 2008. Olympic Dreams: China and Sports, 1895-2008. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, [page 18-19].

What’s New

The Big Olympic File | To capture all the must-know medals and online discussions happening on the sidelines of the Olympics, here’s the What’s on Weibo China at Paris 2024 Olympic File. You’ll find daily short updates on the latest Olympic trending news.

Controversy over broken paddle | It’s the incident that broke the champion’s bat – after winning gold at the table tennis mixed doubles, Wang’s paddle got damaged. It’s a topic that keeps brewing online.

No kimonos allowed | A Chinese girl who was refused entry to a local comic convention for wearing a kimono or yukata raised questions about whether restrictions on Japanese attire were motivated by historical sensitivities or gender bias.

Cooking oil scandal | The recent scandal involving Chinese fuel tankers being used to transport cooking oil have reignited food safety concerns in China. This has led to panic buying of artisanal oils and increased censorship to control online discussions. Are these incidents exceptions, or do they reveal deeper issues with censorship and regulation? This Chinafile conversation, featuring insights from Isabel Hilton, Yaling Jiang, David Bandurski, and myself, explores the challenges the Chinese government faces in ensuring a safe food supply and what consumers should know about their food.

What’s Trending

Without exaggeration, nearly all of Weibo’s top trending lists have been dominated by Olympic medals and moments, which we’ve covered in our Olympic file here. But what else has been trending? Here are some non-Olympic Weibo discussions that caught my eye:

 
🔐 Cyberspace ID

On July 26, China’s Ministry of Public Security and the Cyberspace Administration released a draft proposal for a new system involving “cyberspace IDs”—a digital identity authentication system designed to enhance online security and protect personal information. This system aims to enhance privacy by providing an anonymous way to verify a person’s identity online without exposing their actual personal information. Although the initiative is still in its draft phase, it has gained international media attention, including coverage by the New York Times and BBC, which cite critics suggesting that, rather than just increasing privacy, this system could further concentrate government control over the internet. On Chinese social media, however, such discussions are suppressed. Tsinghua University law professor Lao Dongyan (劳东燕), who criticized the draft proposal, had her Weibo account restricted following her comments. This topic is on my to-write list, so stay tuned for more developments.

 
🏎️ Internship Gone Wrong

Driving a Porsche to your internship job, and playing golf after work? Might sound good, but a Chinese university student who showed off his lavish lifestyle and internship at CITIC Securities sparked public outrage after posting a video online flaunting his wealth. Netizens began investigating the student’s background, wanting to uncover the identity of his father and how this ‘fù’èr dài‘ (富二代), or second-generation rich, accumulated their wealth. This incident comes amid a campaign by Chinese internet authorities to combat the online flaunting of extreme wealth and luxury, which is seen as having a negative societal impact, especially in times of unemployment and widening wealth gaps. Earlier this year, several prominent luxury influencers had their social media accounts shut down as part of this effort.

The student also faced backlash for leaking confidential corporate information about company projects in his video, further intensifying the controversy. As a result, CITIC Securities terminated the student’s internship and announced plans to strengthen its internal management to prevent similar incidents in the future. Although the student has apologized, it’s unlikely he will find another internship opportunity anytime soon.

 
🍲 Malatang Plushies

The Gansu Provincial Museum in Lanzhou has scored a social media hit with its malatang plushies, which are sold in its museum store. Customers can choose the toy ingredients, which are then “cooked” by the staff in a toy pot before being handed to them. Málàtàng (麻辣烫), meaning ‘numb spicy hot,’ is a popular Chinese street food dish featuring a diverse array of ingredients cooked in a soup base infused with Sichuan pepper and dried chili pepper. Over the past year, some places in Gansu, such as Tianshui, have started promoting their own “Gansu-style” take on the dish.

This isn’t the first time the Gansu museum’s merchandise has gone viral; they previously had a popular green horse plushie based on an ancient bronze statue. Their creative initiatives have been praised by Chinese official media as a way to breathe new life into older museums and make them more appealing to younger visitors. But how original is this initiative, really? The entire concept, including the staff ‘performance’ of selecting the ‘food items’ and playfully pretend-cooking before wrapping it up for customers, seems quite similar to the Jellycat Diner experience.

 
🏛️ Toddler Abuse Case

A child abuse case currently being heard in a local court has drawn significant public attention this week due to its gruesome and heartbreaking nature. A two-year-old girl from Hebei, known as ‘Tian Tian,’ was allegedly abused and killed by her biological father and his girlfriend. The girl’s mother told Chinese media that she initially raised her daughter alone while her father was working and living in another city. However, when he filed for divorce in late 2022, he took their daughter away, and her attempts to regain custody were unsuccessful. A year later, in late 2023, she was informed of her daughter’s death. The two defendants are now accused of repeatedly abusing the girl by beating, freezing, tying up, and starving her. The girl’s father claimed to have a mental illness in an attempt to evade punishment, but a police evaluation determined that he was not mentally ill. Tian’s mother, who spoke to Chinese media this week, expressed her hope that both defendants will be sentenced to death to seek justice for her daughter.

 
📴 Where is Hu Xijin?

Hu Xijin (胡锡进) is one of China’s most well-known political and social commentators, especially on Weibo. For years, he has posted daily on the platform. Until now. The former editor-in-chief of Global Times has not posted on his account since July 27—an extraordinary, unannounced pause from his usual social media activity. Various foreign media outlets, from New York Times to Bloomberg, suggest that his silence might be related to comments Hu made about the Third Plenum and Chinese economics, particularly regarding China’s shift to putting public and private enterprises on an equal footing. Without an official statement, Chinese netizens are left guessing about his whereabouts. Some say they do not mind a break from Hu’s daily posts and sometimes controversial opinions.

What’s Noteworthy

Small news with big impact

There is one Olympic athlete who really seems to have conquered everyone’s hearts these days: Quan Hongchan (全红婵). Alongside Olympic stars like table tennis champions Sun Yingsha (孙颖莎) and Wang Chuqin (王楚钦) and swimmer Pan Zhanle (潘展乐), the young springboard diver from Guangdong has become one of the most-discussed athletes on Chinese social media during Paris 2024.

Quan has accomplished a lot. She previously, in 2021, won gold in the women’s 10m platform at the Tokyo Olympics, at just 14 years old. At the Paris Olympics, together with Chen Yuxi (陈芋汐), she first secured gold in the women’s synchronized 10m platform event on July 31st. On August 6, she also won gold in the women’s 10-meter platform diving final – the water did not even splash!

By winning her first gold in Tokyo and her third medal in Paris, she broke the record of former Chinese diver Fu Mingxia (伏明霞) and became the youngest triple Olympic champion in China’s history at just 17 years old.

Her athletic talent and young age are significant reasons why Quan is so popular online. Many Chinese sports fans feel connected to her Olympic journey, having watched Quan mature throughout the years. The moment she won her second Paris medal and fell into the arms of her coach, crying, is being shared all over social media.

But the diving star is also noteworthy for her funny expressions and sometimes awkward or laissez-faire attitude. She is delightfully authentic and quirky—something that is referred to as “being Guangdong-style relaxed” (“广式”松弛感) by Chinese netizens.

Her backpack is covered in stuffed animals (some say she’s “carrying a zoo on her back”), she loves wearing animal-themed slippers (like her ugly fish slippers), and she unapologetically wore Olympic party sunglasses during her post-win press conference. She got adorably excited when meeting fellow Olympic star Eileen Gu. She loves showing off her gold medal, and when a reporter asked her if she wanted to learn her pet phrase in English, she simply declined and said, “I don’t wanna know.”

Quan does what she does best: being who she is.

In the end, more than her incredible talent, it’s her way of just being herself and staying relaxed in the face of enormous Olympic pressure that has made Quan one of China’s most quirky and adorable gold-winning athletes. Some have even crowned her as their very own “Queen Quan 👑.”

 

What’s Popular

The latest buzz in arts, marketing & pop culture

My Little Pony trading cards (小马宝莉卡) have become incredibly popular in China, with some cards selling for sky-high prices. These cards, produced by Kayou, have a dual appeal as they are used for both collecting and playing games. They are particularly popular among China’s “post-10s” (10后, born after 2010), but they also attract older collectors.

There are four main categories of My Little Pony card packs: Rainbow Pack, Moonlight Pack, Twilight Pack, and Special Pack (彩虹包/辉月包/暮光包/特典包). The cards are typically sold in blind packs of 6 (costing around 10 yuan/$1.4), meaning each pack contains a random assortment of cards, so you won’t know what you’re getting until you open it.

This element of surprise, combined with the fact that new versions of each card pack are released every few months while older versions are discontinued, makes the cards irresistible to many. People are not only playing the My Little Pony card game but also trading them, watching related livestreams, and following social media channels to identify the rarest and most sought-after cards. This has grown into its own subculture, and Chinese media reports suggest that the price of some rare cards has soared to extremes, with some reportedly selling for as much as 160,000 yuan ($22,000).

 

What’s Memorable

Best reads from the archive

As the 2024 Paris Olympics have generated a wave of memes and sometimes unexpected fandoms around athletes, including the rising popularity of diver Quan Hongchan, we’ve selected an Olympic-related article for our archive pick this time. Chinese Olympic swimmer Fu Yuanhui became a sensation on Chinese social media after finishing third in the women’s 100m backstroke at the 2016 Rio de Janeiro Olympics. Rather than just for her swimming skills, the then 20-year-old athlete was celebrated for her humorous expressions and relatable attitude.

Read here
 

Weibo Word of the Week

The catchword to know

Olympic-only Fans | Our Weibo word of the week is ‘Olympic-only fans’ (Àoyùn xiàndìng fěn 奥运限定粉). Literally: Olympics (Àoyùn 奥运) + restricted (xiàndìng 限定) + fan (fěn 粉).

This term is currently being used in Olympic-related Chinese social media discussions to describe people who suddenly become ‘experts’ on sports, follow the latest results closely, and show strong interest and support for a particular sport or athletes like Wang Chuqin and Sun Yinsha, but whose enthusiasm lasts only during the Olympics and fades shortly afterward.

Although these fans might seem super passionate, they are also extremely temporary. As much as they actively participate in Olympic activities, watch live events, and suddenly know the ins and outs about some Chinese sport stars, their interest quickly evaporates once the Olympics conclude.

One reason ‘Olympic-only fans’ are facing criticism recently is due to a toxic Olympic fan culture where people insult opponents, coaches, bronze medalists, and others. Some of the ‘real’ fans are blaming the ‘Olympic-only’ fans for the negativity surrounding the events and are labeling them as ‘fake fans.’

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