Oct. 13, 2010 was a joyous day for the 33 miners who were finally rescued from a collapsed mine shaft in northern Chile and reunited with their families. What could have ended as a tragic disaster has instead become a symbol of human resiliency and resourcefulness and has catapulted the tiny Latin American country into the international spotlight.

By harnessing the expertise and technology from both Chilean and non-Chilean sources and allowing international media outlets to set up camp at the collapsed mine to provide round-the-clock coverage of the events there, the Chilean government, headed by President Sebastián Piñera, has successfully projected to the world an image of a modern, dynamic nation. Chileans have every right to be proud of the rescue operation’s impeccable execution, but once the euphoria subsides, they must be prepared for the tough questions that may soon follow.

To be sure, the sheer amount of planning and consideration that went into the rescue effort was extraordinary. While engineers went to work figuring out how to get the miners out, National Aeronautics and Space Administration personnel and Chilean submarine experts were called in to assess the psychological impact of the miners’ isolation. Once a food pipeline was installed, nutritionists worked with a special food-preparation company to ensure that the miners got healthy and appetizing meals every day. And in the final days of the rescue preparations, as the Phoenix capsule was readied for descent, special trainers worked with the miners remotely to ensure that they would be slim enough to fit into it.

Perhaps even more impressive than the nuts and bolts of the rescue was the way in which the world was able to follow every step of the process, access videos and photos of the miners in their captivity, and watch the miners finally emerge from the earth—in real time. Through social media outlets like Twitter and Facebook, people shared their joy and excitement for individuals half a world away.

The Chile mine rescue has been a called a made-for-TV drama, both in the sense that it was a story with naturally universal human-interest appeal and as a more critical commentary on Piñera’s handling of the crisis. The media-savvy politician has been accused of using the mine rescue to his political advantage and to prop up Chile’s national image, and his own—and if this was his aim, he succeeded.

Still, it is important to understand the glamorous rescue both as a national triumph and as a political attempt to smooth over possible criticism of Chile’s mining industry and its management.

After all, this—unlike the 8.8 magnitude earthquake that struck Chile last February—was a manmade disaster. Several bloggers have already pointed out, quite rightly, that the amazing rescue should not obscure serious issues such as lax enforcement of mine-safety regulations, labor rights, and the wisdom of Chile’s heavy dependence on mineral extraction.

They should not be unduly concerned. Piñera may have focused attention on his country in order to make the both of them look good, but it’s not a light that can be automatically switched on and off. Although the miners emerged healthier and in better spirits than expected, spending two months buried deep underground is still an ordeal. As it becomes clearer whether or not the accident itself could have been prevented, the warm glow of international opinion could turn harsh. How Chile deals with that type of scrutiny may be a painful and complicated challenge even greater than that posed by the mine rescue itself.

Adrienne Y. Lee ’12, a Crimson associate editorial editor, is a history concentrator in Quincy House.