Kylian Mbappé Should Never Have Apologized to China

The Chinese Communist Party Is Losing Its Influence, and History May Not Be Kind to Those Who Bowed to an Evil Totalitarian Regime

Kylian Mbappé made a joke about a picture of himself dressed as Mao Zedong, called the former Chinese ruler a dictator, and somehow ended up apologizing to China. Chinese sponsors dropped him, state television suspended broadcasts, and La Liga hurried to repair its relationship with Beijing. All this because a French footballer laughed at an internet meme. (Japan Times)

There was nothing particularly shocking about the joke. Chinese internet users routinely mock Donald Trump, Joe Biden, and other foreign politicians, yet Beijing expects foreigners to treat Mao as a figure beyond ridicule. A Frenchman can laugh at an American president, and an American can laugh at a French president, but apparently everyone must observe special rules when the subject is a dead Communist dictator.

Mbappé’s mistake was not the joke but the apology, and the unfortunate thing is that his response probably came from good intentions. He wanted to avoid offending people, while La Liga wanted to protect its business. Neither seems to have considered that apologizing for an ordinary political joke grants Beijing the authority to decide what foreign athletes are allowed to say.

They could have learned from others.

When China punished the NBA over Daryl Morey’s comments about Hong Kong in 2019, the league ultimately defended his freedom of expression rather than apologizing for it. Adidas did not surrender to demands for an apology during the Xinjiang cotton controversy, while Lionel Messi explained his absence from a Hong Kong match without accepting the political accusations directed at him. All faced controversy, but none was permanently driven out of international sport or business.

The lesson is not that standing firm costs nothing, but that refusing Beijing’s demands does not necessarily mean losing everything.

There is another problem with Mbappé’s decision: he may be following a business strategy that belongs to a different era.

During China’s rapid economic expansion in the 2000s, foreign companies could make enormous profits by entering its growing market. Political concessions sometimes looked like a reasonable price for commercial access, but a strategy that worked in 2006 does not automatically make sense in 2026.

As China’s economy slows and its political demands remain, the return on such concessions may diminish. A company can sacrifice its principles to protect a market, only to discover that the market is no longer worth the sacrifice.

The Soviet Union offers an instructive warning.

American businessman Armand Hammer built relationships with Soviet leaders beginning in the 1920s, and documents disclosed after the Soviet collapse revealed that he had secretly carried money for the Communist International. Decades later, other Western businessmen entered the Soviet market hoping to find opportunities of their own, only to encounter failed ventures, bureaucratic obstruction, and a political system approaching collapse. (UPI)

Hammer had entered near the beginning; some of his successors arrived near the end. They were dealing with the same country, but not the same historical moment.

Mbappé and La Liga should remember that distinction.

There is also a question larger than money. Beijing has maintained close relations with Moscow during Russia’s invasion of Ukraine, supported Nicolás Maduro’s disputed claim to electoral victory in Venezuela, and sustained extensive economic ties with Iran despite international sanctions. These relationships are already subjects of international scrutiny, and future disclosures may change how the world judges them.

The Soviet archives demonstrated how much could remain hidden while a powerful regime was still standing. They also showed how quickly the reputations of those who cultivated its rulers could be reconsidered once its authority disappeared.

China’s Communist Party is not guaranteed to share the Soviet Union’s fate, but neither is it entitled to be treated as permanent. Its economic influence can decline, its political relationships can become liabilities, and its conduct can be judged by generations that feel no obligation to respect today’s official narratives.

That is the longer horizon Mbappé should have considered. His Chinese sponsorships may be valuable today, but his international reputation could outlast the political circumstances that made those contracts attractive.

A footballer should not have to apologize for laughing at a dictator, and he certainly should not mistake the demands of a government for the dignity of an entire people.

Mbappé may have lost money by refusing to apologize, but he would have retained something more difficult to purchase later: the freedom to stand by his own words.

The Soviet Union once looked permanent, too. History eventually taught the world otherwise, and anyone making concessions to Beijing today would be wise to remember how quickly yesterday’s powerful friends can become tomorrow’s embarrassing associations.