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How Geopolitics Threaten K-Pop’s Ambitions in China
Japanese members of some K-pop bands have been absent from recent concerts in China. Experts say that’s linked to tension between Tokyo and Beijing.
While BTS does not have any shows planned in mainland China, fans in the country will likely contribute significantly to the supergroup’s album and ticket sales as it returns from hiatus. Fan clubs based in China are marking the comeback by spending tens of thousands of dollars on celebratory billboards in Seoul.
But the Chinese market for K-pop, while enormous and lucrative, can also be capricious.
Case in point: Japanese stars in South Korean pop groups have been absent from some recent concerts and events in China, a pattern that experts say is linked to a diplomatic spat between Beijing and Tokyo.
In a high-profile example, the K-pop boy band Riize performed without one of its six members, the Japanese rapper Shotaro, in Macau last month. “I was so disappointed,” said Maya Choi, 16, a fan who traveled to the show from Beijing.
The organizers apologized and cited “unforeseeable circumstances” for the last-minute cancellation, without mentioning China. But analysts and music critics saw the absence as fallout from a diplomatic rift between China and Japan that began when the Japanese leader suggested that her country could intervene militarily if China moved to seize Taiwan, a self-governing island that Beijing claims as part of its territory.
It is unclear if the cancellations are the result of orders from Chinese officials or precautionary decisions taken by organizers. The Chinese government — which has publicly signaled its restrictions on Japanese trade, tourism and cultural imports — has not said anything recently about K-pop specifically. The artists and entertainment agencies involved in several recent cases either declined to comment or did not respond to inquiries.
Some K-pop fans say that following their favorite stars increasingly requires an understanding of East Asian geopolitical tensions — and a close reading of news reports and social media chatter about cancellations and snubs.
Shotaro’s absence in Macau “opened my eyes to international politics,” said Rachel Sirait, 21, a Riize fan in Jakarta, Indonesia. “One of the reasons I’ve focused on this is because it’s impacting my hobbies.”
In other prominent examples, Le Sserafim, a girl group with two Japanese members that is managed by the same company as BTS, canceled a fan signing event in Shanghai in December. And in January, Rei, a Japanese member of the girl group IVE, was absent from an event in Guangzhou.
Fans and experts say these Japanese musicians are getting caught in diplomatic crossfire even though neither the bands nor their labels have publicly sided with China or Japan. (BTS, which has no Japanese members, is scheduled to perform in Hong Kong, a Chinese territory, as part of its world tour. )
K-pop has spread around the world largely thanks to the industry’s efforts to be multinational, said Kim Do Heon, a music critic in Seoul. Groups often have members from Australia, Canada, China, Japan, Thailand and the United States. They often sing in English, Chinese and Japanese.
But this multicultural ambition has turned K-pop into a minefield of sensitivities. Artists have been accused of cultural appropriation and racism and companies have come under fire over political issues, many of them related to China.
In 2016, after the Taiwanese singer Tzuyu from the girl group Twice waved a Taiwanese flag on a South Korean variety show, backlash from people who support the unification of Taiwan with China prompted her to make an apology video declaring, “There is only one China.”
And last year, the girl group Aespa withdrew its Chinese singer, Ningning, from a concert after she posted a picture of a lamp that people in Japan said resembled a mushroom cloud evoking an atomic bomb. Although the band’s label cited a health issue, her exclusion was widely viewed as a response to the controversy.
More broadly, China’s authoritarian government has dramatically restricted the industry’s business inside its borders.
South Korean stars used to perform freely to rapturous Chinese crowds in the early 2000s. But in 2016, Beijing started barring South Korean celebrities from performing concerts in China, except on rare occasions and in Chinese territories like Macau. The restrictions followed Seoul’s deployment of a U.S. missile defense system that China viewed as a threat to its national security.
The stakes for K-pop bands are high because China is the industry’s second-largest export market. Japan accounted for about $81 million in album sales last year, while China trailed behind at about $70 million. The United States followed with $64 million, according to South Korean government data.
Analysts at Daishin Securities, a financial services company in Seoul, estimate that major K-pop entertainment companies could earn an additional $150 million to $340 million if the Chinese market fully reopened.
In a relief to the industry, some K-pop concerts have resumed in China as South Korea’s current president works to improve relations with Beijing. Treasure, a 10-member boy band with Japanese members, performed in Macau this month without complications.
Some hope that China’s recent anti-Japanese campaign may provide an opening for South Korean content in the Chinese market, said Eun Jong-hak, a professor of Chinese studies at Kookmin University in Seoul.
With an eye on that market, some K-pop producers have spent years establishing operations in China and creating groups with Chinese artists. But Professor Eun said that going too far to appease a particular country’s fans would be risky.
“K-pop thrives precisely because it operates in a gray area,” he said. “But if it evolves into a form constrained by constantly watching someone else’s reactions, it could hinder its growth on the global stage.”
K-pop bands are aware of the risks, and they tend to tread carefully when they tour in China.
At Riize’s recent concert in Macau, Shotaro traveled with his bandmates but stayed backstage. “I’m sure Shotaro’s watching us here,” his bandmate, Sohee, told the crowd. “Like somewhere here but not here.”
Park Haeseo, an 18-year-old fan in Seoul, was among the Riize fans who were disappointed.
“What hurts most is that no one is at fault,” Ms. Park said. “Yet someone gets hurt and someone else has to feel sorry.”
John Yoon is a Times reporter based in Seoul who covers breaking and trending news.
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