So they've done it. Chinese mountaineers finally raised the Olympic torch on top of Everest this morning. To get there they overcame difficulties that threatened to derail the ascent, or delay it beyond China's weather-related May 10 deadline. They sat out high winds and snowstorms that buried or destroyed their camps and rope-routes. Then they dug through fresh snow to repair equipment. This morning, they headed for the summit against a backdrop of steely clouds and blowing snow, though mercifully the wind had dropped.

Once they reached the peak, they behaved like any other summit party, though perhaps a little more solemnly, as they slapped each other on the back, and passed the torch from hand to hand. Official congratulations on state television all emphasized how they'd conquered their difficulties.

They deserve their success, but in one sense they were beaten before they started. Olympic organizers had visualized the Everest ascent as the high point of the Beijing 2008 Olympic Torch Relay. It was meant to provide the most dramatic images in a relay chock-full of superlatives--the longest, the highest, the largest number of countries, runners etc.

This hasn't happened. The defining moments of the Beijing 2008 Torch Relay will forever be from London and Paris, where 'Free Tibet' protesters jostled torch bearers and police tackled demonstrators to the ground. Those pictures triggered an international online slanging match about China's place in the world. Angry young Chinese netizens bubbled with fury at what they saw as a deliberate slight to newly-confident China, while Western human rights activists jabbed away at China's short-comings.

The sight of the torch on top of Everest cannot override these events. 

The staggering financial cost of the ascent will probably never be known. China has built a road to the mountain and a media center at its base, and kept at least 50 mountaineers there for two months. It has paid Nepal compensation for lost climbing revenue after persuading its tiny neighbor to close the south side of the  mountain till May 10.

Happily for them, China's summiteers met their deadline. The costs to China's image have been high, though. Activists in the Tibetan Youth Congress have made clear that they viewed the Olympic preparations as a unique chance to publicize the Tibetan cause. While the riots in Lhasa no doubt had many local triggers, it's hard to believe the Olympic spotlight played no part in the initial monks' protests.

Mountaineers waiting on the Nepalese side of the mountain can now start their own ascents, but they face difficult decisions. They've already spent much of the climbing season corralled inside Everest Base Camp by the Nepalese army and police. It's not certain they'll still have enough time to get to the top before the summer monsoon arrives at the end of May, bringing heavy snow, thunder and a greater risk of avalanches. With so many teams rushing for the summit at once, the dangers are magnified.

Although the torch's Everest ascent hasn't provided the most dramatic images of China's Olympics so far, it may be the most fitting symbol. The climb epitomises the spirit of Beijing's Olympic preparations - take on a massive task, (like modernizing one's capital city), benchmark oneself as publicly as possible, and succeed at all costs. It's breathtakingly bold, maybe even admirable, to take on such a difficult task and complicate it with so much publicity. But the resultant inflexibility carries a price.