Cyber Nationalismin Esports: The Pursuit of the “all-Chinese team”

Introduction

Esports has shifted from a niche subculture into a global mass phenomenon where competition intersects with technology, entertainment, and national identity. Nowhere is this intersection more pronounced than in China, where competitive gaming has become a platform for expressing pride, cultural confidence, and geopolitical aspirations. In 2025, the Chinese esports market reached a revenue of ¥29.33 billion (approximately $4.02 billion), supported by an audience of over 500 million fans, extensive investment from companies such as Tencent, and mounting state interest in esports development. The inclusion of esports as a medal sport in the 2022 Hangzhou Asian Games (held in 2023) and the launch of Esports Asian Champions League (ACL) in 2024 both reflect the country’s ambition to formalize and lead the global esports ecosystem.

Central to China’s esports narrative is the pursuit of “all-Chinese team”. It refers to the type of esports teams which are composed exclusively of domestic Chinese talent, and the pursuit of “all-Chinese team” is mostly seen in the online forum discussion of League of Legends (LoL). Developed by Riot Games, this MOBA game has established itself as one of the most prominent titles in esports. Since its release in 2009, it has grown into a global phenomenon with millions of players and viewers, solidifying its position as a cultural and competitive centerpiece in the esports industry. For China, its involvement in esports dates back to the late 1990s, with competitive games like Warcraft III and Counter Strike. However, it was not until the 2010s, with the rise of LoL, that China began to establish itself as a global esports powerhouse.

This article examines the rise of “all-Chinese team” as a cultural project tied to cyber-nationalist sentiment, analyzes recent high-profile moments that shaped nationalist discourse, and connects these trends to China’s broader diplomatic positioning and domestic policy agenda.

Cyber Nationalism and the Ideological Stakes of Esports

With the rapid development of information technology and the popularization of social media, cyber nationalism, as an emerging social phenomenon, has increasingly become an important topic in global academia and political practice. It refers to the use of the Internet and social platforms, especially state-led digital propaganda, to spread and reinforce national pride, national identity, and the defense of national interests. In China, the government's control and use of digital platforms has become an important tool for shaping national discourse and spreading nationalism. Online communities provide real-time environments where national pride is celebrated, frustrations accumulate, and defeats are framed as symbolic setbacks. In this ecosystem, esports channels collective identity more efficiently than many traditional cultural forms, as it is borderless, interactive, and produces measurable results. For many fans in China’s online communities, esports is more than entertainment. It is a domain where China competes in real time against other nations in industries central to modernity—software, networks, global media, and cyber-culture. As a result, the symbolic burden placed on the “all-Chinese team” is disproportionate to their competitive reality. Their success implies domestic self-confidence, while their failures are interpreted as national shortcomings.

It is also important to note that the definition of the “all-Chinese team” is not purely ethnic or linguistic, but is instead shaped by political and territorial boundaries as understood by mainland Chinese netizens. A telling example is the case of Taipei Assassins (TPA), the 2012 League of Legends World Championship winner. Despite being composed of ethnically Chinese players, TPA is rarely acknowledged in mainland discourse as having fulfilled the “all-Chinese team” dream. The debate over whether one of the individual players is Canadian Chinese partially leads to this exclusion. But at its core, the rejection of TPA reflects the politicization of esports identity: “all-Chinese” is implicitly defined as mainland Chinese, competing under mainland institutions, and symbolically aligned with the PRC state, rather than as a broader cultural or ethnic category.

Defining Moments: From Pragmatism to Nationalist Backlash

China has built a comprehensive league system for LoL and consistently demonstrates highly competitive standards in both domestic and international tournaments. The League of Legends Pro League (LPL), which was founded in 2013, became the cornerstone of China’s esports ecosystem and emphasized the development of domestic talent. It is the top professional league in mainland China and generates extensive discussion on domestic social media during its regular season. In 2023, it ranked first by revenue among client-based esports games in China. As global events approach or take place, comparisons between the LPL and other regions intensify, most notably with South Korea’s League of Legends Champions Korea (LCK).

In the early development of the LPL, Chinese teams relied heavily on South Korean players, coaches, and analysts, reflecting the long-standing dominance of Korea’s LCK in professional League of Legends. Since 2014, this inflow of Korean expertise substantially improved the LPL’s competitive level and international results. Three LPL clubs eventually won World Championships in 2018, 2019, and 2021. Yet these successes were achieved with mixed rosters: six of the fifteen core players involved were Korean. While effective in competitive terms, this reliance gradually generated nationalist unease among fans, who began to question whether such victories could truly be claimed as national achievements.

This ambivalence crystallized into what many fans described as the “outsourcing of honor.” Online discourse increasingly framed the LPL as a “hybrid region,” captured in ironic slogans such as “wins rely on Korean carries, losses blame Korean loyalty.” From this perspective, imported players were seen not as contributors to collective success but as symbols of domestic inadequacy. Many fans argued that foreign recruitment limited opportunities for Chinese talent and diluted the symbolic meaning of “winning glory for the nation.” As a result, competitive success came to be evaluated not only by results, but by who delivered them. Victories achieved by Chinese players alone were elevated as morally superior, while reliance on foreign talent was viewed as compromising national dignity.

These tensions intensified when Korean imports underperformed, especially in matches against LCK teams. Online reactions often turned hostile, accusing them of lacking loyalty or even deliberately sabotaging results. Even highly successful Korean players were sometimes dismissed as mercenaries motivated solely by money, reinforcing a nationalist logic that equated trustworthiness with nationality rather than professional affiliation.

The inclusion of esports as an official medal event at the Hangzhou Asian Games marked a major turning point. China fielded a fully domestic League of Legends roster, widely interpreted as a great opportunity to respond to long-standing criticism of foreign dependence. Playing on home soil further amplified expectations. However, the team finished with only a bronze medal, losing to South Korea and narrowly defeating Vietnam. The reaction from online communities was swift and emotional: fans criticized individual performances, questioned systemic stagnation in the industry, and framed the loss as a symbolic failure against South Korea, which long regarded as the benchmark nation in esports.

A similar pattern re-emerged at the 2024 League of Legends World Championship (S14), Bilibili Gaming (BLG) fielding a fully Chinese roster, reached the final against South Korea’s T1. After a closely contested five-game series, BLG fell short. Although many fans praised the team’s progress, the loss reinforced a deeper dilemma: national pride demanded purely domestic rosters, yet competitive reality suggested that international collaboration remained difficult to replace. Critics questioned the viability of the all-Chinese strategy and argued that the exclusion of foreign talent weakened the team’s competitiveness. Despite years of investment in domestic talent and significant progress within the LPL, the gap between ambition and achievement remains evident. The focus on “all-Chinese team” places immense pressure on players to perform as representatives of national pride rather than just competitors. This dynamic, amplified by cyber-nationalist discourse, often magnifies the stakes of high-profile matches.

Esports as Cultural Diplomacy and Strategic Projection

Esports advances China’s broader diplomatic and cultural objectives. It functions as a soft-power showcase, signaling that China is not merely a participant in global cultural industries but an engine of innovation. Domestic games such as Honor of Kings and the consolidation of esports education programs parallel state narratives of cultural modernization. Hosting major events reinforces Chinese leadership in defining standards and organizational models. The Hangzhou Asian Games placed China at the center of esports’ institutionalization, underscoring that modern cultural infrastructures can coexist with national political narratives. The ACL, launched in 2024, further positions China at the forefront of regional coordination.

But soft power through esports is not uncontested. South Korea, historically dominant in professional gaming, remains China’s most direct competitor. Matches between “all-Chinese team” and Korean rosters often serve online as symbolic clashes over regional leadership, mirroring past tensions in entertainment, technology, and security. China’s underperformance against South Korea becomes intertwined with perceptions of vulnerability in other strategic areas. This symbolic rivalry is also often intensified through hyperbolic nationalist rhetoric that deliberately shifts the frame from cultural competition to hard power. In one of the most influential online forums in China’s esports discourse, a widely circulated remark— “Faker may be strong, but can he withstand a Dongfeng missile?”—captures this logic. By contrasting the esports prowess of iconic South Korean LoL player Lee Sang-hyeok (Faker) with China’s military capability, the statement dismisses Korean dominance in esports by invoking a domain where China’s superiority is presumed to be absolute. Such discourse functions as an emotional rebalancing mechanism: when China falls short in soft-power arenas like esports, nationalist narratives retreat to symbols of hard power to reaffirm national confidence. At the same time, the very need for this rhetorical shift reveals the extent to which esports has become invested with geopolitical meaning, transforming competitive matches into proxies for broader anxieties about regional status and national strength.

The United States shapes another layer of rivalry. Riot Games, the developer of League of Legends, was originally American. Although it was acquired by Tencent in 2011, it still creates suspicion in China that institutional bias influences competitive outcomes. These suspicions carry nationalist tones, and are often articulated through specific tournament controversies. For example, during the 2022 Mid-Season Invitational (MSI), Riot Games’ decision to implement artificial latency to accommodate remote participation by a Chinese team triggered intense backlash when technical issues emerged. Although Riot framed the measure as a competitive equalizer, many Chinese fans interpreted the controversy as evidence of structural bias embedded in a Western-controlled system. Similar accusations resurfaced after international losses, with online discussions alleging preferential treatment in scheduling, officiating, or competitive rulings whenever LPL teams faced North American, European, or Korean opponents. In these narratives, Riot Games is no longer seen merely as a tournament organizer but as a symbolic representative of U.S. technological dominance, reinforcing nationalist concerns that China remains constrained by foreign platforms even within globally popular digital industries such as esports.

Domestic Policies: Self-Reliance, Mobilization, and Digital Cohesion

The narrative of the “all-Chinese team” aligns with China’s domestic policy goals that emphasize self-reliance in technology, domestic talent cultivation, and national rejuvenation. Promotion of esports as a viable career path, the expansion of esports curricula, and municipal investments in esports infrastructure all connect gaming to technological modernization. Online mobilization, whether celebratory or hostile, supports national cohesion by transforming sporting outcomes into shared emotional experiences. However, this emotional atmosphere also amplifies volatility. When victories occur, cyber-nationalism reinforces unity; when defeats accumulate, it fosters online aggression and cultural defensiveness.

The single-nation composition of rosters also plays a dual role. Domestically, it strengthens the narrative of indigenous capability. Internationally, it signals determination to compete without dependence. But this approach raises strategic questions: is symbolic national purity compatible with global excellence in a cooperative field? For instance, from 2024 to 2025 the LPL has failed to win any international competitions, a trend that may appear to challenge the legitimacy of the “all-Chinese team” ideal. The recurring defeats of domestic rosters suggest that competitive isolation may limit growth, even while it satisfies national pride.

Conclusion

The quest for “All-Chinese team” reveals the interdependence between esports performance, national aspirations, and cyber-nationalist sentiment in contemporary China. Esports has evolved into a symbolic arena where China competes not only in matches but also in narratives of self-confidence, rejuvenation, and technological strength. It provides rapid and measurable outcomes that feed into online discourse, turning fan communities into spaces of national mobilization. But the continued inability of the “all-Chinese team” to secure decisive global victories underscores an unresolved tension: national identity demands domestic purity, while global competitiveness may require international integration. The trajectory of the “all-Chinese team” therefore encapsulates a larger question shaping China’s global engagement: can national pride and global excellence be reconciled when success depends on cross-border collaboration? As cyber nationalism intensifies, the answer will shape not only fan discourse but also China’s place in the evolving global esports landscape.