Arc’teryx was founded in 1989 in Vancouver, but today it is owned by Anta Sports, a Hong Kong-listed giant with deep ties to Beijing. Anta has built its empire on securing favor in the Chinese domestic market, making Arc’teryx part of a broader portfolio of brands being promoted aggressively in China. Arc’teryx has come under fire after staging a massive fireworks display in Tibet’s fragile Himalayan region. What the company called “art” quickly revealed itself as a reckless stunt—one that not only contradicted Arc’teryx’s conservationist image but also exposed Beijing’s exploitative use of Tibet as a stage for propaganda.
On 19 September, videos showed multi-coloured fireworks erupting across the high-altitude foothills of Shigatse, Tibet. The daytime display, titled Rising Dragon, was created by Chinese pyrotechnics artist Cai Guo-Qiang, known for his explosive “gunpowder art.” The dragon-shaped blasts, fired at over 5,000 meters near sacred Himalayan peaks, were framed as a celebration of “mountain culture.”
The backlash was swift. Environmentalists and critics accused Arc’teryx of greenwashing—pretending to be eco-conscious while detonating explosives in one of the planet’s most delicate ecosystems. The company apologised, admitting the event was “out of line with Arc’teryx’s values,” and promised an environmental review.
But the problem runs deeper than one brand’s mistake.
Tibet as a CCP Showcase
For Tibetans, the Himalayas are sacred, tied to centuries of Buddhist practice. For Beijing, however, Tibet has long been a political stage. Since the 1950s invasion, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has turned the region into a backdrop for mega-dams, rare-earth mining, and tightly controlled cultural spectacles.
An event of this scale could not have happened without CCP approval. Allowing fireworks shaped like China’s national symbol—the dragon—over Tibetan land was no coincidence. It was a deliberate projection of dominance: Tibet presented not as an occupied nation, but as a glittering canvas for Chinese “creativity.”
Arc’teryx’s Hidden Motive: Marketing
Arc’teryx, though founded in Canada, is owned by Anta Sports, a Hong Kong-listed company with strong ties to Beijing. Anta has built its fortune on aligning with China’s domestic market, and Tibet provided the perfect stage for branding.
The strategy was simple:
- For Arc’teryx/Anta: Generate global brand awareness. Before this, many outside mountaineering circles had never heard of Arc’teryx. Now, its name is trending worldwide.
- For the CCP: Greenwash its occupation of Tibet by presenting the region as an exotic and harmonious destination for international art and commerce.
Even negative publicity can benefit the brand especially in China, where state-controlled media is already spinning the display as innovative and patriotic.
Environmental Hypocrisy
Arc’teryx insisted the fireworks used “biodegradable materials.” Experts and critics were unconvinced. At high altitudes, ecosystems are fragile, and even small disruptions—let alone massive firework explosions—can damage wildlife and vegetation.
One viral comment on Arc’teryx’s apology summed it up: “Not something that can be forgiven with a single apology post.”
Cai Guo-Qiang: The State’s Artist
The choice of Cai Guo-Qiang was no accident. The 67-year-old artist, celebrated by the Chinese state, famously orchestrated fireworks at the 2008 Beijing Olympics. His role in Tibet mirrors a broader CCP tactic: enlisting cultural figures to sanitize authoritarian control with spectacle, blending nationalism, art, and propaganda.
Marketing in the Service of Occupation
This incident is more than an embarrassing PR blunder. It illustrates how Tibet’s land and culture are commodified—used for corporate gain and political messaging, with Tibetans themselves silenced.
Arc’teryx’s fireworks were not about “raising awareness of mountain culture.” They were about selling jackets in China and helping Beijing project an image of control and pride.
The Bottom Line
The outrage against Arc’teryx is justified. But the scandal’s deeper truth is this: Tibet remains a captive land, where sacred landscapes are reduced to marketing props and propaganda tools. Until Tibetans regain the freedom to protect their own land, such spectacles will continue—greenwashed by corporations, staged by artists, and rubber-stamped by Beijing.
