Liu vs. Gu and the Chinese-American Dichotomy

May 10, 2026

Two Chinese girls, both born and raised by a single parent in the Bay. Both began winter sports early in their life, excelling to compete on the national level before their teen years. But they wear different countries’ uniforms, and everyone seems to have a problem with it. 

Alysa Liu and Eileen Gu are the two standout stars of the 2026 Milano Cortina Winter Olympics. Liu dominated the ice, earning Team USA’s first Olympic gold in women’s figure skating in 24 years. Gu dominated the slopes, becoming the most decorated freeskier in history, and earning Team China three Olympic medals this year alone. Outside of the games, both young women have ascended into celebrity status, gracing the covers of fashion magazines and red carpets. Liu and Gu both received massive crowds upon their Bay Area homecomings in Oakland and San Francisco, respectively. However, there lies a distinct difference in Liu and Gu’s public reception. Liu is on American Teen Vogue, and Gu is on Chinese Vogue. Liu skates for the “nation that protected her family,” while Gu skis for “a regime that wants to destroy our country.”

In 2019, Eileen Gu announced that she would be competing for Team China for the 2022 Beijing Winter Olympics, to much controversy.  However, Gu’s decision to compete for a country she was not raised in is not unique. At Milano Cortina, seven other American athletes compete under another national flag. In fact, sharing the podium with Gu after the ski halfpipe event is Britain’s Zoe Atkins, who grew up and currently lives in the U.S., and maintains American dual citizenship. Team USA itself this year has five foreign-born athletes. Often it’s a pragmatic choice. Familiar coaching staff, better sponsorship opportunities, or just plain personal preference.  It is stated in the Olympic Charter that “the Olympics are competitions between athletes in individual or team events and not between countries.” 

In response to her entry into Team China, Gu received intense backlash that she described as “threats, vitriol, online hate, [and] physical attacks.” Lawmakers such as Senator Rick Scott, Representative Andy Ogles, and Vice President J.D. Vance have all expressed public disdain for Gu’s decision. Former NBA player Kanter Freedom deemed her a “traitor.” This backlash is undeniably tied to the international reputation of China as a pariah to the Western world and the geopolitical tensions between the U.S. and the country, evident in the fact that no other American athlete competing under a different foreign flag received nearly the same harsh reaction. The backlash is also largely intensified by Gu’s triumphant success under the Chinese flag, becoming her sport’s most decorated athlete by the age of 22. 

Liu’s rise to prominence also did not come smoothly. At just 13 years old, she became the youngest U.S. women’s figure skating champion in history and was already regarded as “the future of U.S. ladies’ figure skating.” At just 16, she announced her retirement from the sport, citing burnout from training. Liu recounts that, “I was in fight-or-flight mode all the time.” Liu’s father also decided to send a 14-year-old Alysa off to Colorado Springs for training alone, leaving Liu deeply isolated. At 18, she changed her training environment, fired her dad, and returned to professional figure skating. At 20, she became Team USA’s first champion in women’s figure skating in 24 years. Alysa instantly rocketed into Gen-Z icon status, with most reacting to her win with admiration and appreciation for her skills, mindset, and style. Some conservatives have chosen to ignore her self-ascribed liberal leaning beliefs, with conservative columnist Caroline Downey stating, “…we don’t really care because she didn’t bring the woke BS into the Olympic arena itself… She stood for the flag and then draped herself in it after winning gold, so she’s still ahead of most of the Left when it comes to patriotism frankly.”

Comparisons between Gu and Liu began around 2021, when it was alleged that Liu was targeted by the Chinese government for recruitment, just like Gu. Unlike Gu, Liu refused the offer. Her dad cited his background as a political refugee, immigrating to the U.S. after participating in protests following the 1989 Tiananmen protests as the reason for rejecting the offer. This is markedly different from the background of Gu’s mother, whose own parents were both Chinese government employees exemplifying the positive relationship the Gu family has with China. The China versus America comparison was almost laughably obvious: Good Asian versus Bad Asian. Eileen was the ultimate traitor to the American cause, defecting to the Chinese enemy, and Alysa was America’s triumphant refusal.  A narrative was set: “In a world of Eileen Gu’s, …be an Alysa Liu.” 

There’s a frustration that carries when approached with the discourse surrounding Liu and Gu. Here are two amazingly talented young women, each at the top of their game, achieving greatness. It feels like their individual sporting achievements are overshadowed by a barrage of political narrative thrust upon them. Why does it have to be a greater discussion of Chinese geopolitical tensions and the model minority myth? But is sport just sport? Do athletes sign up to be political figures when they compete at an international level? 

In the world of sports, everything not political is political. 

As much as the Olympic Charter states that it is competition “between athletes …  and not between countries,” athletes do not compete as individuals. They stand on podiums draped in their national flag as their national anthem plays. All except 20 athletes. At Milano Cortino, 20 athletes, all of Russian or Belarusian, competed under the Individual Neutral Athletes (AIN) designation. 

Russia has had a rocky relationship with the Olympics, facing restrictions and partial bans following the infamous Sochi 2014 doping scandal, and its athletes have competed under the Olympic Athletes from Russia (OAR) and Russian Olympic Committee athletes at the Olympics (ROC) designations in the preceding games. However, two days after the closing ceremony of Beijing 2022, Russia invaded Ukraine. In response, the International Olympic Committee banned Russia and Belarus from competing at any international sporting event. Any Russian or Belarusian athlete competing must be vetted by a panel for any connections to or support for the ongoing war in Ukraine before being considered for the AIN designation. 

If the Olympics were purely a competition between athletes and not their countries, Russia (sans any doping scandal) and Belarus would still have a spot. If the Olympics were still a competition between athletes and not their countries, with the added caveat that participating countries do not “violate the territorial integrity”  of another nation’s National Olympic Committee, Israel would not have a spot. The true answer is that the Olympics are politics wrapped in pageantry. The games itself is politics wrapped in the pageantry of beautifully choreographed opening ceremonies and awe-inspiring individual narratives of victory. The decisions of the International Olympic Committee are politics wrapped in the pageantry of international unity through sports. 

If the games are definitively political, what does that mean for the actual politics of the individual athletes? We do not know. When the Chinese national anthem plays, does Gu think solemnly about her avid support for an invasion of Taiwan? When the American flag is draped on her shoulders, does Liu wish that same flag were being planted in Greenland? When these girls skate or ski, they do so as representatives of those nations who made the active choice to be American or to be Chinese. Do they also make the choice to embody every political choice of those nations? 

Gu’s decision to join Team China is political, in the sense that it is in part the result of Chinese political desire to expand soft power representation through international sports. Is her personal decision to join Team China an endorsement of every Chinese political action? Unless your name is Eileen Gu, no one can definitively make that judgment. Every judgement that has been made, however, including mine, is political. 

The discourse of Liu vs Gu often devolves into geopolitical mudslinging between the two countries. News headlines of atrocities in both countries are thrown at one another: Uyghur persecution versus racial police brutality, military claims on Taiwan versus bombing of Iran, internet censorship versus ICE crackdowns, and on and on again. Each side continues as if there is a correct answer, a correct country, and ultimately, a correct girl. 

This focus and comparison of these two women is undeniably due to their Chinese-ness. No one attributes Zoe Atkins’ allegiance to Team United Kingdom as support for the nation’s crack down on peaceful pro-Palestinian protests, for example. Did Zoe do anything different from Eileen other than choosing to hitch her horse to the less politically “threatening” wagon? 

The truth is, there is no correct girl as it is not Eileen and Alysa at the center of this discourse, but what they supposedly represent. In the eyes of most observers, these two girls are more symbols than human. It almost doesn’t matter if Eileen is actually a dirty communist or if Alysa is a woke alt baddie. It doesn’t matter if they are personally political if they are already symbolically political. 

In discussion with Professor Vernadette Gonzalez, professor of Asian American studies at UC Berkeley, she asserts that this endless discourse strips these two girls, two professional athletes, of their personal anatomy. “[Its] disappearance of their individual labor,” says Professor Gonzalez. “Politicians write the script on Asian women’s bodies.. [Asian women are] reduced to objects.” The American politicians that champion Alysa push her father’s political affiliations and disownership of China above her individual actions and achievements, as if without her father’s politics she would not be as impressive as an American. “[Being] young, vibrant, athletic, smart,” says Gonzalez, “does not make them exempt.”

To be Chinese is to be political in America. To be female is to be political in America. To exist within America while being anything but the expected is political. The success of Eileen Gu and Alysa Liu represent a threat to two versions of American hegemony. Gu’s success under the Chinese flag represents a challenge to American global hegemony. As the Chinese economic and political power grows to rival the U.S.’ on the global stage, the powers that be in America feel threatened by anything Chinese beating anything American. Hence, the “evil dragon lady” attribution to Eileen, Professor Gonzalez suggests. Liu’s success as an alternatively dressed, pro-Palestine Chinese American challenges white American domestic cultural hegemony. She does not fit the narrative of white right-wing success or any of the other values ascribed to Asian women. Hence, the need to reinforce her family’s rejection of China, to place her as squarely American and claim ownership of her win. 

Returning to the frustration with the discourse surrounding Gu and Liu. The extension of that frustration is not to ignore the political nature of international sports, but to analyze the political narratives at play, separate from the individual. To place the political intentions of literal nations onto two girls in their twenties is missing the forest for the trees. It is to ignore their own words and agency. When asked about how she felt about Eileen, Alysa responded with “…it’s sport, it doesn’t matter what country we represent. Sport is sport, and she has a love for competition, she has love for the game. I think that’s all that matters.”

Featured Image Source: Getty and Reuters

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