The Symbolic Politics of Sport Mega-Events: 2010 in Comparative Perspective

Abstract

For ambitious civic and national boosts sport mega-events provide unique opportunities for the pursuit of symbolic politics—a chance to signal important changes of direction, reframe dominant narratives about the host, and/or reinforce key messages of change. These signals or narratives are critical vehicles of legitimation, with both narrowly instrumental objectives and more expansive purposes related to the mobilisation of societal support for certain dominant ‘ideas of the state’. This paper explores the realm of symbolic politics through a comparative analysis of three disparate mega-event hosts which will take the world stage in 2010: South Africa (the FIFA World Cup), Delhi/India (the Commonwealth Games), and Vancouver/Canada (the Winter Olympics). The paper argues that despite important differences in the circumstances of these hosts and the events they are to mount, there are some key commonalities in the narratives they seek to deploy and the subtexts they embody. These commonalities revolve around a paradoxical blending of inclusive, transcendent, or cosmopolitan narratives on the one hand, and competitive, differentiating narratives of ‘world class’ aspirations and achievements, on the other. Strikingly then, these widely dispersed events have become vehicles for similar messages with potentially contradictory implications.

Introduction

The pursuit of sport mega-events has become an increasingly popular political and developmental strategy for a wide range of urban, regional, and national governments, along with their social and economic allies (‘booster coalitions’—e.g. Horne and Manzenreiter, 2006a). This trend is linked to the exigencies and incentives of globalisation—even if the range of potential participants in the ‘mega-event sweepstakes’ remains relatively narrow.1 The touted benefits are wide-ranging. Most frequently emphasised are the economic or developmental benefits, including infrastructural investments and unrivalled ‘place promotion’ opportunities, aimed towards expanding investment, tourism, and not least the ability to attract future events. The fact that ‘the forecasts of the benefits are nearly always wrong’ (Horne and Manzenreiter, 2006b), and nearly always overstated, has thus far done little to dampen the enthusiasm of would-be hosts.

Part of the explanation for the paucity of realistic analyses and expectations regarding mega-events may be that they also serve other, less tangible purposes. In short, for ambitious civic and national boosters they provide unique opportunities for the pursuit of symbolic politics—a chance to signal important changes of direction, ‘reframe’ dominant narratives about the host, and/or reinforce key messages about what the host has become/is becoming. These signals or narratives are critical vehicles of legitimation, with both narrowly instrumental purposes related to gaining support for event bids domestically and internationally, and more expansive purposes related to the mobilisation of societal support for certain dominant ‘ideas of the state’ (e.g. Cornelissen, 2004), or ‘the imaginary power of the state’ (Redeker, 2007). The purpose of this article is to explore this realm of symbolic politics through a comparative analysis of three disparate hosts, each of which is to organize a sport mega-event in 2010: South Africa (the World Cup of the Fédération Internationale de Football Association (FIFA), Delhi/India (the Commonwealth Games), and Vancouver/Canada (the Winter Olympic Games). My argument is that, despite important differences in the circumstances of these hosts and the events they are to mount, there are certain key commonalities in both the narratives they seek to develop and deploy, and the subtexts they embody.2 These commonalities revolve around a paradoxical blending of inclusive, transcendent, or cosmopolitan narratives on the one hand, and a competitive, differentiating narrative of ‘world class’ aspirations and achievements, on the other. Strikingly then, these widely dispersed events become vehicles for similar messages with potentially contradictory implications.

The article begins with a discussion of the ‘signalling impulse’, as well as who the audiences and articulators of these narratives are. It then proceeds to a general comparison of the differences among these events and their hosts, each of which will feature prominently on the 2010 calendar. It is noteworthy that, despite their differences, each host has become an enthusiastic participant in the mega-event circuit (Hiller, 2002; Cornelissen, 2007) or, put more colourfully, has become a mega-event ‘addict’ and ‘user’. The three cases will finally be compared and analysed in terms of the transcendent/cosmopolitan and competitive/differentiating messages they seek to articulate. I will conclude by considering the probable repercussions of these reframing efforts, particularly in terms of the tensions between the two key narrative strains identified.

The signalling impulse

Sport mega-events have a long history of serving as more or less premeditated vehicles to articulate or signal key messages regarding the host—a dynamic that is inclusive of but extends beyond the state-based pursuit of public diplomacy (as, for example, in the case of the 1988 Seoul Olympics—see Manheim, 1992). In the post-Second World War era, some of the more striking instances of mega-event messaging have included the use of the Olympics by a succession of former Axis powers (Rome, 1960, Tokyo, 1964, Munich, 1972) to signal rehabilitation within the international community; the use of various events by a handful of rapidly growing ‘semi-peripheral’ countries to signal developmental advances or ‘arrival’ (Mexico, 1968; South Korea, 1988; the Malaysian Commonwealth Games of 1998); and the use of major events to signal decisive and desirable social change (the 1995 Rugby World Cup in South Africa and the transcendence of apartheid; the 1998 FIFA World Cup in France as a triumph of its multicultural/multiracial possibilities) (see Black and Van der Westhuizen, 2004, pp. 1205–1206; Marks, 1999).

The impulse to use major sporting events in efforts to reframe the host, through signals or narratives of distinctive qualities and/or key trends and departures, is not hard to understand, particularly in the contemporary era of globalised mass media and hotly contested hosting decisions. This impulse is about marketing and ‘place promotion’, to be sure, but it extends further to dynamics of symbolism and legitimation. In the first place, it is an imperative of the bidding process. Every bid city/country must construct a compelling narrative of why they would be both capable and desirable hosts. Given the cosmopolitan self-image of international sports organisations (ISOs), and the high-minded and rather self-important ideological appeal of sport (see Hoberman, 1995; Ogi, 2003; Roche, 2006), it is not surprising that prospective hosts will construct a narrative that appeals to and reinforces this self-image. The audiences for these image-projecting narratives are both external and internal, international and domestic. Externally, they include potential corporate sponsors and, as implied above, ISOs. Importantly, the latter have their own incentives for seeking to broaden their appeal and their influence by attaching themselves to hosts that ‘stand for’ something more than simply the prospect of a well-run event. As self-appointed and unaccountable non-state actors, ISO legitimacy derives from their revenue-generating capacity to be sure, but also from their image as custodians of the putative universality, nobility and promise of sport. For example, from the perspective of the International Olympic Committee or the Commonwealth Games Federation (CGF), the prospect of mounting their respective showcase events in the two most populous countries on the planet (China and India) is obvious. Similarly, the opportunities provided by the 2010 FIFA World Cup™ to link sometimes-shady FIFA figures to heroic South African icons such as Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu are powerful and appealing means of burnishing the image of Football's world governing body and its officials (see ‘Football Stars’, 2007; also Jennings, 2006).

Domestically, bid committees must mobilise broad and enthusiastic public support for what are invariably extraordinarily expensive and intensive events, in the context of multiple competing demands for public resources. Indeed, the perception that there is strong public and political support for a bid is one of the critical ingredients for success in bidding contests. A host narrative that extends beyond mere material benefits (which, based on previous games experiences, can be viewed with considerable scepticism) to incorporate a more noble and inspiring vision can be valuable in this regard. Moreover, as Dave Whitson has argued, ‘booster coalitions’3 often seek to use the opportunity of major games to reshape dominant attitudes and cultures within host communities—to transcend provincialism and historic insecurities and to embrace globality, competitiveness, and excellence (Whitson, 2004, pp.1218–1224). Again, new and inspiring narratives are a critical part of this effort.

Beyond these incentives, there is the simple fact that sport mega-events in conjunction with the contemporary media-sports complex provide unmatched opportunities for global visibility and exposure. This is especially true for the vast majority of the world's countries that are not at or close to the historical centres of world power, particularly in the United States and Western Europe. The concentrated and sustained attention of the world's media provided by sport mega-events simply cannot be reliably achieved by other means short of natural disasters or wars. Moreover, the format of major games—in particular elaborately staged opening and closing ceremonies—provides a unique opportunity to package and project an appealing (and inevitably stylised and simplified) narrative concerning the host. Finally, the mass mobilisation involved in staging the games, of public and governmental resources, private sector interests, and volunteers, adds up to a landmark ‘seminal moment’ in the life of the host community. It represents the possibility of a natural break point in its collective trajectory—even if in practice the durability of this break point is inconsistent and the repercussions uncertain. In short, the symbolic possibilities of major sporting events are simply beyond resisting for many politicians and other local and national elites, as well as many within their communities. While it is entirely appropriate to be alert to the ‘ideological cant’ that surrounds such events (see Tomlinson, 2005, p. 46), one need think only of the euphoric celebrations that routinely accompany announcements of bid victories (apparent in each of South Africa, Delhi, and Vancouver/Whistler) to recognise this dynamic and potential.

2010: three hosts, three ‘paths to glory’

The three hosts and events compared in this article are in many respects disparate. In terms of the events, they range from the largest ‘first-order’ event in the world (the FIFA World Cup), to a first-order event (the Winter Olympics) that is nevertheless considerably smaller than the Summer Games and less extensive in its appeal, to a second-order event (the Commonwealth Games) with an uncertain future in an increasingly crowded global events calendar (Roche, 2000). With regard to the latter, it is not surprising, given the rising global status and ambitions of the host, that Indian government and Olympic Association officials signalled their intent to bid for the Summer Olympics shortly after Delhi was awarded the 2010 Commonwealth Games (‘Next Stop is Olympics’, 2004). This is a common trajectory for second-order event hosts, who often use such events as a launching pad for other bids (see Black, 2007). A case in point is South Africa, which has assiduously pursued an event-centred development strategy ever since the collective euphoria of the 1995 Rugby World Cup (see Cornelissen, 2007). Clearly, the signalling/imaging potential of second-order events is considerably lower than first-order events, though it is still regarded as significant by events boosters.

The three events are also different in character, with the World Cup being a single-sport, multi-site event hosted by a country (matches will be played in ten different stadia around South Africa) which unfolds over several weeks, and both the Winter Olympics and Commonwealth Games being multi-sport events attached to a single (or in the case of the Winter Games, a double) host city, in a more concentrated period of time.4 Hence, the balance between national and regional/urban government involvement and place projection will vary among the three events—although in developing countries, there is a tendency toward a higher level of national government management of and association with single-centre, multi-sport events (e.g. Van der Westhuizen, 2004). This is reflected in the high level of central state involvement in the local organising committees for both the FIFA World Cup and the Delhi Commonwealth Games.

Finally, the three hosts occupy very different locations in the global political-economic hierarchy. Vancouver is one of the wealthiest cities in a country, Canada, that has consistently ranked among the top few (sixth in 2006) on the United Nations Development Programme's Human Development Index (HDI) of 177 countries and has also been a member (albeit the smallest) of the G8 Summit of the world's leading industrialised countries almost since its inception. In contrast, South Africa ranked 121st in the 2006 HDI, and India 126th. India, however, is the second most populous country in the world and also the second-fastest growing in terms of gross domestic product, estimated to rise by 9.4 per cent in 2006/2007. It is now widely regarded as an emerging major power in both economic and political terms,5 even if it remains a developing country with hundreds of millions of its people living in poverty. Ironically South Africa—though possessing the largest economy in Africa and being a leading aspirant to an African permanent seat on the United Nations Security Council should one come to pass—is arguably the least well equipped of the three to host the world's premier first-order event in terms of its economic and organisational capacities.

Despite these widely varying political-economic circumstances, however, there are some interesting similarities among all three that have driven them to pursue an event-centred development strategy, albeit to varying degrees. Each is, in different ways, seeking to overcome a historic sense of marginality and peripheral-ness. For South Africa, in addition to the characteristic challenges of a middle-income developing country located on the world's poorest and least secure continent, beset by stark inequalities and high unemployment, there is the residual legacy of apartheid-era ostracism within and beyond Africa and the divisive racial politics that underpinned it. For India, notwithstanding its aggregate low-income status, there is the aspiration for recognition of its rightful place as a world power, reflective of its population, its rapidly growing economic and military capabilities, and its history as an ancient and sophisticated civilisation that has had to overcome the indignity of hundreds of years of external domination and colonisation. For Vancouver, notwithstanding its setting, wealth and sophistication, there is the felt need to transcend the insecurities of a comparatively young city in historical terms, in a province that was a traditional hinterland in Canada with a resource-dependent economy that has been prone to cycles of ‘boom and bust’. As journalist Rod Mickleburgh has put it, ‘the city lusts for recognition, to be known by that proverbially ugly phrase, a world-class city’ (The Globe and Mail, 3 July 2003).

In sum, each reflects a blend of insecurity and ambition. It is not surprising, then, that each (and the wider regions and countries of which they are a part) has displayed a growing ‘mega-event addiction’. While South Africa can be said to have the most advanced case (e.g. Cornelissen and Swart, 2006; Morgan, 2007), India's quick assertion of its Olympic ambitions in the aftermath of its winning the Commonwealth Games bid, and Vancouver's and Western Canada's steady pursuit of global mega-events as a habitual part of the regional development ‘common sense’ (e.g. Whitson and Macintosh, 1993) reflect a similar tendency. In 2010, each will attain a new height of ambition and visibility with the events they are now committed to host. What signals and narratives are they seeking to articulate as these moments approach?

Unity, transcendence, cosmopolitanism

Among the most popular and durable ideological images associated with sport is that it is a cosmopolitan force for building understanding and transcending division within and between the world's countries—a means to educate the youth of the world ‘in the values of peace, justice, mutual understanding and international friendship’ (Roche, 2000, pp. 194–195). It is not surprising therefore that variations on the theme of unity, cosmopolitanism and transcendence figure prominently in the imaging narratives of Delhi, South Africa, and Vancouver.

As noted above, the external signalling potential of the Commonwealth Games is the most limited of the three events. Nevertheless, Delhi's official self-portrayal has emphasised its incorporation of ancient and modern characteristics and accomplishments, its cultural diversity and richness, and its status as the world's largest democracy. As the official website of the 2010 Games pronounces:

(India is) a country that blends an amazing history and a dynamic future creating an enchanting experience for all its visitors. The largest democracy and second most populous nation on earth it offers a unique cultural mix blending ancient and noble cultures and modern, dynamic societies'. (Delhi Games website, ‘Why Delhi for 2010’)

The keywords in a Delhi promotional video produced for the Games bid are ‘Democracy, progress, knowledge, peace, welcome’ (Delhi Games website, ‘See You in Delhi’).

Besides the inherent cosmopolitanism of the Indian culture and society, and the normative appeal of its official traditions of secular tolerance and democracy—all of which are under more or less constant strain—the transcendent appeal of Delhi's pitch has rested heavily on its Asian and developing country identity. There is a paradox here, as the Games also aim to signal and celebrate India's growing modernity and ‘graduation’ from its traditional developing country status—a paradox explored further below.

But especially within the Commonwealth context, an appeal to India's non-Western, post-colonial, and developing country roots was an enormous asset in the bidding process, and will remain an attractive feature of the event itself. Delhi defeated the Canadian city of Hamilton in the bid contest, and assiduously courted the African and Asian vote to do so—a process which was aided by the fact that many Commonwealth Games Federation Delegates were present in Hyderabad for the Afro-Asian Games immediately prior to the CGF decision in Jamaica, and were flown directly from India to Jamaica (‘India to Host’, 2003). Delegates were well aware that in an organisation where the vast majority of countries are post-colonial and developing, the Commonwealth Games have only been held outside the United Kingdom and the traditional ‘white Dominions’ of Canada, Australia, and New Zealand on two previous occasions since the event's inception in 1930 (Jamaica in 1966 and Malaysia in 1998).

Both the CGF and the larger Commonwealth of which it is a key constituent are also keenly aware that they are ‘relevance-challenged’ as the British empire fades into historical memory and regional blocs and organisations grow in salience. A bid appeal that underscores the Commonwealth's ability to transcend diverse regional, cultural, and developmental divisions, as well as its now-constitutive commitment to democracy, was a winner in this context (see Bannerji, 2007). Concomitantly, a bid that held the promise of popularising the Commonwealth Games to vast new Asian audiences, with major new commercial sponsorship possibilities, was compelling to the keepers of the Games in the CGF (see Delhi Games website: ‘New Foundations’ and ‘New Markets’).

The role of sport mega-events in South Africa's ongoing efforts to transcend historic divisions and build a new, pluralistic, democratic, and multiracial (‘rainbow nation’) identity has been widely commented upon and analysed. So too with the FIFA World Cup, which is portrayed as offering the possibility of a ‘boost to national pride, and the potential to nurture a true South African identity’ (emphasis added—Pillay, 2005). Indeed, the FIFA Inspection Report prior to the hosting decision asserted that awarding the tournament to South Africa would assist the unity process in the country, while the Chief Executive Officer of the Local Organising Committee, Danny Jordaan, argued that the World Cup ‘is not only important for football, but it will help strengthen and consolidate our democracy’ (‘Hosting’, 2003). Just how these beneficent political effects will be triggered is rarely spelled out. As noted above, South Africa's mega-event ‘habit’ is now deeply entrenched, to the extent that one might speculate on a kind of addiction rooted in the need to sustain the feel-good ‘high’ of such events to mask the continuing realities of socio-cultural and class cleavages in the post-apartheid era. As Cornelissen has noted however, hosting the FIFA World Cup in relation to transcendence of the racialist past is particularly important symbolically, not only because it is by far the largest event the country has ever mounted but also because it is the historic sport of the black majority (Cornelissen, 2007, p. 20). Rallying the country behind this monumental effort therefore has the potential to send a powerful signal of change in the historic racial order of South African society—even if the country's racial conditions on the ground remain stubbornly resilient. The audience for this message is largely, though not exclusively domestic.

More striking in this case, however, is South Africa's protracted and determined efforts to portray first its bids for both the 2006 and 2010 tournaments and now the event itself as an ‘African showpiece’—an instrument of continental ‘unity, solidarity and peace’, in the words of Minister of Sport Dr M.A. Stofile (2007). This narrative strategy has been carefully explored by Cornelissen (e.g. 2004, 2007) and needs little elaboration here. For our purposes it is important to note, however, that the appeal is transcendent and cosmopolitan in at least two respects. First, it aims to signal Africa's ‘renaissance’ and arrival as a full, dignified, and confident participant in the global community, and the concomitant vanquishing of ‘Afro-pessimism’. So, in President Thabo Mbeki's letter transmitting the South African bid book to FIFA President Sepp Blatter, he asserts that

the successful hosting of the FIFA World Cup in Africa will provide a powerful, irresistible momentum to [the] African renaissance … We want to ensure that one day, historians will reflect upon the 2010 World Cup as a moment when Africa stood tall and resolutely turned the tide on centuries of poverty and conflict. We want to show that Africa's time has come. (Cited on the South Africa 2010 official website)

Second, and more as subtext than text, this narrative aims to transcend the historic gulf between South Africa and the rest of the African continent—a gulf with roots in the history of minority rule and apartheid but which continues to be fuelled by resentment towards South Africa's relative economic and military power, the prominent and growing role of its multinational corporations in other parts of the continent, and the attitudes of many South Africans towards their neighbours which are frequently tinged by feelings of superiority, arrogance, and fear. As Cornelissen (2007) notes, the significance of this gulf and the challenge it poses is reflected in the fact that the four Confederation of African Football (CAF) representatives with votes on the decision for the 2010 World Cup (Cameroon, Botswana, Mali and Tunisia) all voted for South Africa's chief rival, Morocco. For their part, South African officials have asserted that they ‘remain humble in our attempts to carry the flag for Africa’ (‘Address’, 2003). They have boldly asserted that the legacy of the 2010 World Cup will be different from other major events by virtue of the extension of its benefits beyond the host country, the host's commitment to make the continent-wide legacy a core focus of preparations, and the African Union's active involvement in ensuring continent-wide ‘ownership’ of the 2010 legacy (South Africa 2010 website). The degree to which such aspirations can be fulfilled, and the costs if/when they are not, is an issue to which we will return. Suffice it to say that the pan-African signalling associated with the South African World Cup is now deeply and widely entrenched.

With regard to the 2010 Winter Olympics, in addition to promoting Vancouver as a ‘safe and secure’ bet for a well-managed event (Vancouver Bid Book, 2002, p. 3), the host's signalling has featured cosmopolitanism and transcendence in at least two key senses. The first and most obvious is in highlighting the diversity and multiculturalism of Canada generally, and Vancouver in particular. This is reflected in the letters to IOC President Jacques Rogge accompanying the bid book from both the Premier of the Province of British Columbia, and the then-Prime Minister of Canada. Writes Premier Gordon Campbell, ‘On the West Coast of this large and diverse country, Vancouver is a city that reflects the world. It is a living mosaic of peoples and cultures from around the globe. Virtually every nationality is represented here, making ours a truly multicultural city …’ (Campbell, 2002). Prime Minister Chretien, for his part, writes that

In Canada, you will find a nation that works every day towards creating the conditions of the Olympic ideal … One of the most prominent distinguishing characteristics of Canadian society is its increasing ethnic, racial and linguistic diversity working together in common citizenship. Vancouver is a city where people from around the world have found a home, bringing with them their cultures, ideas and values to share with the rich, existing multicultural mix. (Chretien, 2002)

This narrative of harmonious multiculturalism is now a well-worn trope in Canadian public discourse but also one that, because of the strains this socio-linguistic diversity places on Canadian society, requires continuous repetition and reinforcement. In this regard, the audience for this Olympic-based narrative is as much domestic as it is international.

Vancouver is a city with a highly developed and diverse civil society and a history of political polarisation on various issues, including homelessness and the environment. Thus, another ‘transcendent’ feature of the political messaging and practice of the bid has been an emphasis on broad-based access to and distribution of the Games' benefits (Vancouver Bid Book, 2002, p. 63). But the other feature that is particularly striking in relation to the theme of unity and transcendence is the message that the bid both incorporates and celebrates the identities and interests of the region's First Nations peoples. The historic displacement, maltreatment and marginalisation of Canada's First Nations is a well-known and shameful aspect of Canada's otherwise relatively benign international façade. First Nations communities are particularly prominent in Western Canada generally, and British Columbia specifically. Hence Vancouver bid organisers have worked assiduously from the outset to win the support and participation of local First Nations communities.6 The Vancouver Organising Committee (VANOC) established and continues to nurture a formal agreement with four ‘First Nations partners’, with the objective of ensuring ‘legacy benefits’ for Aboriginal peoples (Vancouver 2010 Progress Report, 2007, p. 8; also ‘Waiting’, 2003). Symbolically, this association of the Vancouver Games with First Nations identities was signalled, but also disrupted, by the choice of an official Games logo featuring a stylised rendering of an Inuit inukshuk (traditional stone figure found in Arctic regions of Canada) named Ilanaaq, or ‘friend’ in the Inuit language. Since there is no Inuit presence anywhere near British Columbia and its own First Nations, the adoption of this logo was seen as a ‘poke in the eye’ by representatives of these groups (‘The Friend Nobody Likes’, 2005). It also reflects the generally stylised, commodified, and shallow character of the symbolic representations that come to be associated with global games.

These various signals and representations of unity, transcendence and cosmopolitanism are therefore at best partial and caricatured. As such, they tend to mask as much as they reveal. They also run the risk of producing unexpected and/or negative repercussions—a theme to which we will return. There is, however, another ubiquitous signal shared by this trio of 2010 hosts.

‘World class’ achievements and identities

The use of sport mega-events to signal ‘graduation’ or ‘arrival’ among the world's leading cities and countries—the achievement of ‘world class’ or ‘world city’ status—has become an increasingly common theme and aspiration among prospective hosts (Black and Van der Westhuizen, 2004; Horne and Manzenreiter, 2006b, p. 8). Delhi, South Africa, and Vancouver each provides a case in point, albeit with interesting variations reflecting their distinctive situations and strengths.

In India, the statements of political leaders as well as editorial commentary reflect a strong, self-congratulatory emphasis on the awarding of the Games (over a sophisticated bid from a developed country opponent) as reflecting not only the strength of the bid but the country's growing achievements in such areas as Information Technology, its powerful human resource base, and its rapid economic growth (e.g. ‘Next Stop is Olympics’, 2004). ‘Delhi 2010 will bring the same fresh perspective to planning and organising the Games that has made it a world leader in the IT, science and research industries’, says the Games' official website. Games proponents and spokespeople also express a determination to use the Games themselves as an opportunity to definitively shed the ‘developing country’ label. For example, the Times of India editorialised in December 2003 that ‘Hopefully, by the time the Commonwealth Games are here, New Delhi will have grown from a “developing” into a “developed” capital’ (‘Lessons from the Past’, 2003), while The Statesman asserted that ‘the Capital will have to really cleanse itself if the visitors are to avoid getting a “third world” impression’ (‘The Friendly Games’, 2004). A commentary in the Hindustan Times argues that ‘the 2010 Commonwealth Games promise to take Delhi to another level—that of a world-class megalopolis’ (‘Here? Why Delhi’, 2006). Meanwhile, the potentially instrumental role of sport in this process has been given encouragement by the leaders of key ISOs including IOC President Jacques Rogge, who is reported to have said that ‘India had a great chance for the 2020 Olympics as the country would become a “sporting tiger” by then’ (‘IOC President’, 2007).

A related tendency has been towards the discouragement of political debate and dissent now that the Games have been won. The editorial from The Statesman cited above (‘The Friendly Games’, 2004) also argues that ‘If the 2010 Games are to live up to expectations, then all those involved in staging them will have to live up to the example that was set in the bidding process when no political differences entered the picture’. This un- if not anti-democratic dynamic surrounding Games organisations is a familiar one, reflecting both the perceived stakes of these events and the often opaque and largely unaccountable organisational structures of organising committees (e.g. Lenskyj, 1996; Black, 2007). For example, in South Africa opposition parliamentarians have reportedly been taken to task for raising concerns over crime in the run-up to the World Cup, on the premise that doing so could compromise event preparation and investor confidence (‘Opposition Lashed’, 2007).

A similar message regarding the opportunity provided by the FIFA World Cup to elevate the global standing of South Africa's cities is apparent in its public discourse. Here, it would seem that the audience is more domestic than international: the pitch is exhortative, enjoining all concerned to seize this ‘unique opportunity to fasttrack development in our cities and large towns’, and ‘to place South African cities in a global hierarchy of competitive metropolitan economies’ (Pillay, 2005; also Whitson, 2004, pp. 1221–1222). There are also discrete campaigns by different urban governments to seize the opportunities associated with the World Cup (e.g. Marsden, 2007). Moreover as noted in the previous section, South African organisers and boosters portray the World Cup as signalling not only the arrival of South Africa as a full participant on the world stage, but of the African continent as a whole. This is indeed an ambitious narrative given the uncertain prospects of ‘world class’ stature for individual hosts, let alone more and less remote continental neighbours.

In Vancouver too the Winter Olympics are being widely portrayed as an opportunity to, in journalist Rod Mickleburgh's words, ‘enter the ranks of the world's great cities’. The build-up to the Games is seen as offering the means to transcend the city's lacklustre history and ‘to discover our real reason for being’, in the words of one Urban Studies commentator (The Globe and Mail, 3 July 2003). This assumption and expectation is firmly in the tradition of mega-events being portrayed as marking decisive departures in the life of cities and/or countries. The Games' boosters, prominently including the Premier of the British Columbia, seize every opportunity to promote the Games as a vehicle for achieving new heights of competitiveness and excellence (‘Fifteen Million [More] Reasons’, 2005; Whitson, 2004, p. 1222).

For Vancouver however, the ability to absorb the escalating costs of the event and to provide the infrastructure needed to succeed is already relatively strong. Here there is a clear distinction to be drawn between developed and developing country hosts. To be sure, the stakes and expectations are high for this Canadian city. Nevertheless, the burdens of both resources and expectations are more manageable. In South Africa and Delhi, there is a real fear that the event could fail disastrously, and recurrent articulations of anxiety concerning the inconceivable consequences of failure in seizing these unprecedented opportunities. Thus, South African Minister of Sport, Stofile has said that, ‘South Africa is in the spotlight and we dare not disappoint ourselves as South Africans and Africans’ (Stofile, 20007). In India, some editorial opinion now expresses the view that, four years from the 2010 Games, ‘Any authentic assessment of the competence (of the Games organisation) should cause the panic button to be pressed’ (‘Where Foul is Fair’, 2007) and ‘In trying to mount sporting extravaganzas Cecille B. Demille style, there's every possibility that we shall only incur the rest of the world's ridicule’ (‘Where Foul is Fair’, 2007). Indeed, given the fact that much of the world's sporting media continues to be centred in countries that are part of the Organisation for Economic Cooperation and Development, and to be predisposed to highlight evidence of organisational shortcomings and incompetence in developing country hosts, these fears are not unfounded (see Dimeo and Kay, 2004) and prompt a powerful impulse to spare no expense to secure a successful event.

Exploring subtexts: unity and transcendence meets competitiveness and ‘world class’

There is a tension, at least, between these two predominant narratives in each of Delhi, South Africa, and Vancouver. The first seeks to reduce or transcend difference, while the second seeks to highlight it. In this regard, these narratives mirror the paradoxical dynamics of globalisation, featuring the emergence of an inchoate ‘global society’ on the one hand and a tendency towards differentiation and particularisation on the other (see Roche, 2006, pp. 30–31).

For India, there is little reason to expect that the 2010 Commonwealth Games will ameliorate the widening gap between its ‘modern’ and globally networked elite on the one hand, and the hundreds of millions who continue to live in poverty on the other. As one editorialist put it: ‘the question the Indian Olympic Association could find itself being asked one of these days is: What does it do for the hicktown and rural unfortunates who can't even afford running shoes? … And if the top–bottom hiatus is to be widened, how long will sport itself survive in a Third World country like ours?’ (‘Over to Delhi’, 2007). Moreover, the Indian bid's appeal as a champion of Asia and of the Commonwealth's developing country majority is increasingly at odds with the Indian state's rising global status as one of the ‘BRICs’ and an emerging world power. This latter status is one which India's hosting of the 2010 Games and the country's ambition to mount the Summer Olympics, aims to reinforce and enhance.

Similarly in the case of South Africa, leaving aside the question of whether it is good public policy to concentrate so much effort and resources on such a monumental event, in which many of the requirements are set by FIFA rather than South Africa's own priorities and much investment is in showcase infrastructure, there is the larger question of the viability and repercussions of its pan-Africanist narrative. On the one hand, South African officials resolutely assert that the whole continent can and will benefit from the World Cup. On the other hand, the pursuit of elevation for South Africa's cities in the competitive hierarchy of the world economy promises to widen the gulf between urban and rural South Africa, and between the South African ‘core’ and most of the rest of the continent. Assuming the South African World Cup is portrayed and perceived as a success for its hosts, on what basis can it be presumed that this perception will spill over to its neighbours?

For Vancouver, Olympic-linked construction has already led to rapid inflation in the city's overheated construction and real estate sectors, exacerbating a growing problem of homelessness and poverty for the city's marginalised. One advocacy group has predicted that Vancouver's rate of homelessness could triple to 3000 between late 2006 and 2010 if decisive action is not taken (‘Vancouver Homeless Population’, 2006). Similarly, the perceived urgency of upgrading transportation infrastructure linking the Games' co-hosts, Vancouver and Whistler (the ‘Sea-to-Sky Highway’) has led environmentalists to charge that serious ecological concerns have been swept aside by the Olympic juggernaut (Shaw, 2007). Finally, Vancouver's aspirations towards world class status have to be seen in the context of widening status differentiation and inequality among Canadian and world cities. The city's core objective is not to minimise but rather to accentuate the difference between it and otherwise comparable cities internationally.

For events boosters, the price of these tensions/contradictions may be virtually imperceptible. Indeed the corrosive effects of, for example, African resentment toward the potentially failed promise of pan-African benefits from 2010 are likely to have little immediate impact on the South African political and economic elite. Similarly, in the final analysis, both Delhi's and Vancouver's booster coalitions will revel in and lionise event success and their role in achieving it, with little discernible cost arising from their politically marginalised majority/minority. Nor should the potential symbolic benefits in altering the identity and trajectory of each event host be discounted. But in a world of widening inequalities, the transcendent and unifying signals associated with major games should be viewed sceptically. If widening global inequalities and growing status differentiation is a, if not the, critical global problem of our time, sport mega-events are unlikely to provide the answer.

Conclusion

These disparate cases illustrate the growing importance placed on international sport, and especially sport mega-events, for those countries able to credibly compete for them. While this remains a privileged minority of the world's cities and countries, it is nevertheless a growing minority situated in virtually all corners of the ‘global community’. A full explanation for the reasons why scholars of international politics continue to give this phenomenon less attention than it warrants is beyond the scope of this paper (though for two explanations, see Allison and Monnington, 2005; Black, 2007). However a part of the explanation lies in their relative neglect of the realm of the symbolic—a realm which looms particularly large beyond the traditional ‘core states’ of world politics privileged by both realist and materialist analyses.

Comparative analysis of these three events and their hosts also allows us to see how many countries of the ‘North’ and ‘South’ share some key similarities under conditions of globalisation. All share an acute sense of political-economic and identity-based vulnerability in the dynamic and volatile landscape of the current era. All perceive a pressing need to compete for global profile and to re-anchor identity in the face of these pressures. All see mega-events as a critical ‘target of opportunity’ among a declining array of legitimate policy alternatives for addressing these vulnerabilities and needs. Indeed for many, the perceived symbolic possibilities of such events renders the ‘real’ economic costs and opportunities involved, if not altogether immaterial, then at least far less important than a rational policy calculus would imply.

Nevertheless, there are obvious and important differences in the implications of mega-event hosting for countries of (to use old-fashioned language) the developed and developing worlds. For the latter, including India and South Africa, the human, institutional, and financial capacity to absorb the burdens of such events is far more limited; the opportunity costs are considerably higher; and the stakes in terms of being seen to host a ‘world class’ event are even more acutely felt. The symbolic stakes mean that, from the perspective of their elites, they simply cannot afford to fail. This helps to account for the fact that institutionally, senior government officials tend to be more pivotally and visibly involved in their organising committees than in Northern organising committees like that of Vancouver–Whistler.

Finally, in relation to the parallel discourses of unity/transcendence and differentiation/'world class' highlighted in this paper, the relative weight placed on these two broad themes or signals varies somewhat among the three cases under study. One could perhaps generalise that the emphasis placed on the former, unity/transcendence theme is higher among first-order event hosts, given the prominent ideological overlays of these events as opposed to lower-profile second-order events. Nevertheless, both discursive strands are vital and in some respects co-dependent; and while the former cosmopolitan themes are prominent in the ‘signposting’ of these events, the latter themes of differentiation and ‘world class’ seem likely, from this anticipatory vantage, to have more practical effect. Put differently, the most likely outcome of such mega-events is growing differentiation and resource concentration within countries (for example, between rural and urban areas as well as different ‘class fractions’) and between them (e.g. between South Africa and its continental neighbours, and India and its South Asian neighbours). Discourses of unity, transcendence and cosmopolitanism must be consciously politicised and mobilised to hold host jurisdictions to account if this outcome is to be mitigated. The ‘feel-good’ communion of major event hosting tends to dampen if not foreclose this possibility.

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Notes on contributors

David Black

* Professor, Departments of Political Science and International Development Studies, Dalhousie University. Email: [email protected]. My thanks to Steve Crepault for excellent research assistance.

Notes

1. Janis van der Westhuizen and I have argued elsewhere that pressures to adapt to globalising dynamics by forging externally oriented ‘competition states’ (in Cerny's, 1990, terms), along with the foreclosing of traditional interventionist economic policy instruments, have led to the increased popularity of mega-event strategies. This economic-developmental logic is strengthened by the identity-reinforcing possibilities of mega-events in the face of the socio-cultural disruptions associated with globalisation (see Black and Van der Westhuizen, 2004).

2. In this regard, they can be seen to reflect Maguire's insight that sports development under globalisation is ‘contoured by processes of diminishing contrasts and increasing varieties’ (cited in Wheaton, 2005).

3. Incorporating, among others, politicians, business leaders, athletes and sports officials, and media outlets and personalities.

4. The 2010 Winter Games are being co-hosted by Vancouver, Canada's third-largest city, and the mountain resort of Whistler.

5. India is often heralded as one of the so-termed ‘BRICs’—Brazil, Russia, India and China—an emerging alliance of powerful industrialising countries.

6. Similarly, the Canadian federal government and organisers of the 1988 Calgary Winter Olympic also incorporated First Nations peoples and identities into their symbolic representations of Calgary and Alberta, the host city and province (see Walmsley, 1996, p. 315).