You pays your money and you takes your choice:
boycott Beijing 2008 or acquiesce in
Chinese Communist oppression

As a convinced member of The Grumpy Party, I had long ago taken the decision to boycott the Olympics. It matters not where they are held, mind you, but it is the mere fact of them to which I object. From toe-curling ‘opening ceremony’ to equally toe-curling ‘closing ceremony’, the Olympic Games are a tedious intrusion into the consciousness.

Their principal sports, athletics field and track, are so routinely and utterly sullied by the curse of the performance-enhancing drug takers that one has little faith in the integrity of any result you care to mention. Usually it is those who seek the gratification of personal glory as well as the sound of the cash register who pump themselves full of this or that chemical, preferably one hitherto unknown to science so that the authorities, who religiously trot out the psittacine mantra that this is the most drug-free Olympics ever, are left flat-footed in their wake.

The rest of it is all deeply excruciating. The false enthusiasm of the BBC commentator as he or, more often in these politically correct days, she, works himself/herself into a frenzy of excitement concerning the wondrous X who has come from absolutely nowhere to win a gold medal in a sport of which we have never heard (well, just how often do you sit down and watch greco-roman wrestling on the box?) leaves one quite cold. It is, in short, a deeply repellent exercise from which, thankfully, cricket and rugby have managed to be excluded all these years.

This year, however, the decision is all the easier. China hosts the Games and China will try to milk them for all they are worth for the greater glory of The Chinese Communist Party and the evil creed of communism as it is practiced there. Already the Chinese have been creeping up the medal tables in recent years as athlete after athlete emerges from the shadows to seize a medal and world record until, last time, they came second to the USA by a short head. Who would bet against them topping the table this time and claiming it as a triumph of the Party?

The reality is that, even before we contemplate the brutal and illegal colonization of Tibet, the regime which hosts the games this year is a brutal, undemocratic oligarchic gerontocracy which maintains a vast oppressive Gulag for those who dare to challenge the established order. It plans to use these games quite ruthlessly as a propaganda tool to help underpin its dictatorial rule and advance its Imperialist cause in the underdeveloped world. In this it will make Hitler’s 1936 Olympic Games look positively modest in its aims.

Meanwhile it will continue its criminal activities in Tibet, a colony in which it is deliberately trying to change the demographics in its favour, a circumstance which is, undoubtedly, an international crime for which the Israelis are routinely excoriated but which will be ignored, providing always that the dictatorship you run is inclined to the left. Elsewhere, in pursuit of the oil it so desperately needs to ride the tiger of unbridled economic growth, it will give aid and comfort to the genocidaires of Darfur, all the while smiling politely. A few raped and murdered Africans will matter not a whit to them.

Whilst all of this is going on, the nabobs of the Olympic ‘Movement’ will seek to persuade us that by awarding the games to this cruel despotism they will enable us to ‘engage’ with China and that this exercise, supposedly to be conducted by the sports journalists of the world, will bring the whole edifice crashing to the ground. Presumably then, it was the International Olympic Committee that won the Cold War and not, as we all so fondly believed, the Campaign for Nuclear Disarmament. Such self-delusion would be funny were it not so wicked.

As we look forward to the joys, nay the rapturous Onanistic bliss that is the Common Foreign and Security Policy of the European Union, let us also contemplate its reaction to the fact that the oppressed people of Tibet have spontaneously risen up against their cruel oppressors. Whilst calling upon China to desist from using force against peaceful protestors, it also called upon Tibetans to stop using violence.

Tibetans have nothing else in their armoury. They have tried all the usual means of democratic persuasion but the response of their oppressors has been to ratchet up the level of oppression at every turn. Violence is all they have left.

Once upon a time European leftists, of the sort who were ever ready to enter the lists on behalf of the murderous Viet Cong, Castro, The IRA, Zapatistas, the ANC of South Africa or whoever the totem of the left was at any given moment, would have designated these courageous resisters ‘freedom fighters’ and their organization a ‘liberation movement’. But this time the oppressor is one of them, a nominally Socialist outfit. Thus there is a squirming reluctance to condemn and the resistance must, perforce, be tarred with the same brush as the thugs of the riot police. Therefore any comment against the authorities must be tempered with a balancing criticism of those who have deployed the only means available to them. Thus are the righteous smeared with the tar brush of the oppressor.

Meanwhile the Olympic Torch, in another ludicrous piece of faux pageantry, is to be paraded across London next month, held aloft by a series of ‘celebrities’. They are naught but ‘useful idiots’, every last one of them, who thoughtlessly give aid and comfort to the elderly gentlemen of the Chinese leadership who give the orders to kill, imprison and torture those who would be free. They plainly have no shame at their actions which help legitimize despotism. Instead they will smile for the cameras and justify their conduct on the grounds that to do otherwise will redound on London’s own holding of the games in 2012.

If that means the torture chambers keep operating, so be it. After all The London Olympic Games are far more important than the freedom of a load of wacko Buddhists. Aren’t they?

So, employ the time wisely with Proust’s somewhat impenetrable ‘A La Recherche du Temps Perdu‘, all seven volumes of it. It will be a far more memorable experience than anything the ephemeron of a steroid-fuelled 100 metre dash can offer.