Editorial: Pema Thinley - A mere question of form (July 1999)

A mere question of form
Editorial by Mr. Pema Thinley (released July 1999)

Even as the exile Tibetan leader, the Dalai Lama, walks hale and hearty at a sprightly 64 years of age and expresses confidence to live well beyond the ripe old age of 80 years—in fact up to 113 years—Beijing has redoubled its efforts to prepare for a communist Chinese reincarnate for him. We are being told that it has set up a special task force "to study the issue and map out a strategy." It has brought over to Tibet its very own nine-year-old so-called Panchen Lama to obviously play a proxy Chinese role in this murky business. Yes, I am talking about the one named Gyaincain Norbu whom China has to use force and intimidation to get the Tibetan people to betray an appearance of acceptance while the real Panchen Lama, the youngest political prisoner in the world and whom the Tibetan people have no problem at all in accepting as their very own, remains incarcerated at an unknown location and under god-knows-what conditions, with his family.

Beijing dictates that the present Dalai Lama’s reincarnate shall not be a foreigner, that he shall be a Tibetan born in Chinese territory, and that he must be patriotic and have no intention to split the country. Similar conditions were spelled out after the 10th Panchen Lama died in 1989. While the requirement that the reincarnate be a Tibetan born in Chinese territory is objective, how does one determine the patriotic credential of an undiscerning toddler? It appears that this requirement is fulfilled vicariously by parental records. We understand that both the parents of Gyaincain Norbu were patriotic China cadres. Perhaps by spelling out such conditions China wants the Dalai Lama to know where he should be born and in what kind of a family. If he chooses to be born a foreigner, "Beijing would have to identify another soul boy just like the way Beijing picked the 11th Panchen Lama," China’s Tibet policy adviser Tao Changsong was quoted as saying in a recent newspaper report. Of course, this sounds very much like an admission that Gyaincain Norbu’s was a deliberate fake "appointment" to punish the Dalai Lama rather than a solemn "recognition" according to strict religious tradition of the real Panchen Lama.

Beijing seems to be at least in part responding to the fact that the Dalai Lama made it clear in May 1997 that so long as the Sino-Tibetan impasse remained, his reincarnate would "definitely" be born outside the Chinese controlled territories.

And why does China create so much fuss about recognising the reincarnation of a person who it says is no longer a religious leader but a splittist, who may not even get a Golden Stupa Tomb at the Potala Palace?

Having the power of the state machinery in its hands, to use it as it pleases, Beijing does not care, of course, that it has got the entire reincarnation issue totally wrong: that a reincarnate is no other person than the one who had preceded him. That means the 15th Dalai Lama would be no other person than the 14th who Beijing say is no longer a religious leader and with whom it does not want to have any dealing. Besides, it is the lama, believed by Tibetan Buddhists to be an enlightened being, not those who seek to locate his reincarnate, who determines whether at all he shall be reborn, and if "yes," where and when. Those entrusted to locate the lama’s reincarnate have to seek divine guidance and interpret religiously auspicious symbols—all anathema, in fact, downright nauseating to the communist Chinese creed — to fulfill their sacred mission. Nothing could be therefore more contemptuous of this solemn Tibetan religious tradition than relegating to alien atheists the final decision on any aspects of this entirely religious matter.

Beijing’s undue preparations for the coming of the 15th Dalai Lama is very disconcerting. In the Tibetan tradition, it is the height of religious discourtesy amounting to blasphemy for anyone to talk about the impending passing away of a living Lama. Besides, what makes Beijing so sure that the time for recognizing the reincarnation of the present Dalai Lama approaches nigh? Do the newspaper reports in recent times about the arrest of alleged Chinese spies said to be found stalking the Dalai Lama’s residence in Dharamsala deserve to be taken much more serious note of than seems to have been the case so far? Has communist China decided that the 14th Dalai Lama’s time is up and that the time for a fake but pliable communist Chinese 15th is due? After all, Tibetans need no lessons about China’s capacity for perfidy.

There is another aspect to this issue that Tibetans need to take note of. All questions about the likelihood of a Sino-Tibetan negotiation taking place under the communist Chinese dispensation appears to be totally ruled out. Short of an explicit statement from Beijing, there cannot be a more conclusive evidence of this than the Chinese government’s Cultural Revolution-style repression in Tibet and the use of abusive languages to denigrate the Dalai Lama, on top of talking about preparations being underway for the appointment of an impending Chinese reincarnation of him. It does not yet seem to have occurred to China to appoint a Dalai Lama of its own even as the one in exile still lives. But by declaring the present Dalai Lama to be no longer a religious leader but a "splittist", Beijing has come pretty close to doing just that. Only problem is there is no known method or tradition for going beyond that, for after all Beijing is still concerned with maintaining a "form" of respecting Tibetan religious tradition, though tragically not the profound spiritual "substance" underlying it. 

Editorial: Politics of rights - Pema Thinley (released June 1999)

Politics of rights
Editorial by Mr. Pema Thinley (released June 1999)


The profound Tibetan belief, the raison d'être of our professedly non-violent struggle, that truth and justice will ultimately prevail represents only half the truth about survival in this world. A more wholesome truth seems to be that unless backed or complemented by appropriately potent coercive elements, not necessarily violent, a cause, no matter how noble and sacred, cannot move beyond being a mere intention. All the public relations exercises that predominantly and necessarily determine the mode of carrying out a non-violent struggle remain by themselves mere manners of expressing noble aspirations and sentiments, depending on whether you are an embodiment or a supporter of such a cause. 

A noble cause waged by non-violent means in the name of the truth depends for success upon its capacity to stir the conscience of those whose minds are sought to be subdued or won over. Unfortunately the truth about human rights and violations thereof in today’s world of international diplomacy and complex layers and circuits of parochial national interests is highly subjective. No one brought home the truth about this truth with more telling effect than South Africa’s President Nelson Mandela during his recent visit to communist China. 

During his quarter century of incarceration in apartheid South Africa on an alleged murder charge, the whole free world stood behind him. He became the most famous political prisoner in the world and the inspiration for all other subjugated peoples. It was realistic therefore to expect that upon his release from jail and the dismantling of apartheid in South Africa, Mandela would be the last person to compromise on any people’s rights. Unfortunately this was not to be the case. Mandela the President of South Africa rode the rough shod over Mandela the archetypal symbol of crusade for the rights of the oppressed. 

The economic and political interests of South Africa in having cordial relations with a powerful communist China, the worst and certainly the most pervasive violators of human rights in the world even to this day, was to him much, much more important than the human rights and democratic aspirations of peoples in such strange, distant lands as Tibet, Xinjiang, Inner Mongolia, China, etc. That is why his expressions of admiration for the communist regime was so explicitly forthright, without an iota of qualification or stammer of hesitation. ‘I am happy to have chosen to end my political career by visiting China,’ the official China Daily newspaper on 8 May quoted him as saying. Mr. Mandela is to retire as the President of South Africa in early June this year. 

The South African President played music to the communist Chinese ears, saying he had no advice for mainland dissidents and no criticism of Beijing’s rights record. According to news reports on 8 May, Mr Mandela repeatedly declined to criticise Beijing for jailing dissidents and other abuses, saying instead that he was not prepared to interfere in China’s domestic affairs. Whither the universality of human rights. And he called his trip ‘success,’ though no trade deals or accords had been signed. 

No one can, of course, condemn or praise Mandela without making some value judgement that would pit the basically economic and to some extent politico-diplomatic interests of one’s own country against the human rights, no matter how fundamental, of peoples in other, alien lands. Leaders of almost all the countries of the world are not doing it any much differently. Only they pay lip service to human rights in varying degrees of criticism of the communist regime’s record and attitude.

Politicking with human rights does not end with the question whether gross and systematic rights violations are being condemned in concrete, coercive terms or acquiesced to in a conspiracy of silence. The states most responsible for perpetrating rights violations are the ones most combative in seeking positions on the various UN rights monitoring bodies. States whose leaders knew nothing about UN human rights system overnight become members of UN rights bodies upon learning that their records had been subjects of discussion at these fora. Mention any UN rights monitoring body today and you will almost certainly find the very odd presence of a Chinese delegation there—China bulls in UN rights shops! I have personally witnessed a UN working group meeting in Geneva where the Chinese delegation led the violators’ cohort in opposing, diluting, negating, qualifying, etc, each and every draft provision to ensure that a UN declaration on the rights of human rights defenders was delayed and diluted or neutralised as much as possible. Even on such bodies as the Sub-Commission on Discrimination and Protection of Minorities, or the various treaty bodies, such as the Committee on the Rights of the Child, Committee Against Torture, Committee on Elimination of Discrimination Against Women, etc, etc, the supposedly independent human rights experts from China are seen blatantly defensive of the indefensible: their government’s reprehensible human rights record in a manifestly partisan manner.

Thus, with or without Mandela, attitude towards human rights will always be subjective and political. Likewise, human rights violations by the Chinese government will continue whether or not it is condemned by individual countries and intergovernmental bodies, such as the UN Commission on Human Rights. After all, the violations are only symptoms of a government whose authority is threatened at home but whose power and influence is feared abroad. 

China and its public image - Bhuchung K. Tsering (June 1999)

China and its public image
Article by Bhuchung K. Tsering (issue June 1999) 

At the end of April I was in Geneva in connection with a rally held on the birthday of the Panchen Lama, the hunger strike by the Tibetan Youth Congress and the session of the Comission on Human Rights. I arrived there the day after China was once again able to block a resolution condemning its human rights practices in China and Tibet.

Enter the meeting room of the Comission - I had last stepped into it six years ago - I experienced once again the harsh reality concerning the UN and issues like ours. In that room, the suffering of opressed people is a product, with the NGOs primarily playing the role of sales agents. The product's value is not based on its own merit but on how countries feel it has use for them. Since the mid-eighties Tibetan officials and NGOs have been adapting themselves to this situation and lounching a vigorous campaign at the Commission to sell the Tibetan product. Occasionally they have been successful - sometimes they have faced setbacks. Nevertheless, today the Tibetan brand name enjoys very favourable recognition within the Commission and is used as a model for success by other human rights advocates. But then, it is a crazy market out there.

A case in point is the China resolution proposed by the United States during this session of the Commission. Even the European Union failed to co-sponsor it. Eventually, only Poland became a co-sponsor. China, however, had to seek recourse to its usual procedural tactic to prevent this resolution from being discussed. While China may think it won this round, observers in Geneva feel otherwise. There were more countries, significantly from Afrika, abstaining this time. This is a clear writing on the wall. 

Today, China is desperate to do anything to prevent countries from reminding it about Tibet. The undiplomatic outburst of President Jiang Zemin during his visit to the Swiss Capital, Bern, in late March is an indication of how far the Chinese are willing to go on this. President Jiang literally scolded the Swiss leadership for permitting Tibetans and Tibet-supporters in Switzerland to exercise their democratic right to freedom of speech during his visit to the Swiss Parliament.

I took a short trip to Bern from Geneva and specifically went to the square before the Swiss Parliament House. Loten Namling, who was my host, showed me the location where the demonstrators stationed themselves. Is this the building that made President Jiang launch his thousand tirades? I wondered. As I stood in the square I tried to visualise the development that day. While the demonstrators may certainly have embarrassed President Jiang, there was no justifiable reason for his extreme outburst. This led me to wonder whether there were other reasons for his attitude. Could it be that he has been facing the heat from others in the Chinese leadership concerning Tibet since his non-negative statements during the press conference with President Clinton in June of 1998? Would this mean that President Jiang has really not been able to consolidate power and authority? 

Bhuchung K. Tsering is a commentator based in Washinton, DC. He currently works with the International Campaign for Tibet.

Editorial: Pema Thinley - Getting our priorities right (November 1997)

Editorial by Mr. Pema Thinley - Democratise Or Be Damned (August 1997)

Democratise Or Be Damned
Editorial by Mr. Pema Thinley (released August 1997)

In April the Tibetans in exile will be going to the polls to elect the 12th Assembly of Tibetan People’s Deputies. This will be an excellent opportunity for them to improve the quality of people deciding their affairs at the national level. Since the outgoing ATDP took office five years ago, the Tibetan parliament has assumed far-reaching powers. Its members not only represent the people, they get to elect the ministers in the cabinet too. This effectively means that if the people don’t make their choices wisely they’ll end up getting the kind of government they deserve.

Last month we reported that only about half the adult population in exile have registered themselves with the Election Commissions. But we’ll still be lucky if only half of that number actually exercises their franchise. Very lucky, indeed, judging from what has been happening so far. The place where Tibetan Review is located is a hostel for about 200 college-going Tibetan students. But I’ve never heard of any of them going to the Tibetan camp to cast their ballots. Perhaps a few of them go on their own initiatives, but there never has been an organized voting day, anticipated and talked about in advance. For that matter, I also don’t remember people who work in the Central Tibetan Administration in Dharamsala ever casting their ballots. There is no reason for believing that other places are any different.

So which Tibetan elect the memebers of their parliament? One can’t be certain, of course, but the pressure groups indulging in odious regionalism and sectarianism would be a safe bet. Plus those who go to the polls simply because they’ve heard the Dalai Lama say everybody should vote and hence the action has taken on an almost religious connotation. But once they get to the polling booth they have no idea who they should vote for. They would seek the help of someone there to guide them, which means that that someone can put the stamp on the name of anyone he chooses. The candidates have symbols but those symbols are not printed on the ballot papers, only their names; so Tibetans who can’t read are totally in the hands of others.

It is no secret that Tibetans in general, at least those in Dharamsala, think that except for the chairman, Samdhong Rinpoche, nobody in the 11th ATPD is worth getting excited about. Tibetans in Dharamsala, and in all other places, should do something about it if they don’t want to see the same, or similar, faces in the 12th ATPD. They should excercise their democratic right, a right many other people risk death to acquire. Perhaps the problem with Tibetan exiles is that they’ve had it too easy in this respect. They didn’t have to fight or undergo any suffering to get democracy: it was given to them - almost forced on them - by their leader. Of course it is not yet a democracy in the full sense of the word, but it is a beginning. The spirit is there. Instead of wasting this spirit, instead of misusing or not using this spirit, they should go out there and cast their votes.

They should try to elect people who will be good for the future of Tibet, which means good for themselves and all other Tibetans. They should try to elect people who have proven track records of commendable deeds. If they don’t know any such person, they should ask around. They should avoid being taken in by fiery orators who have no matching actions to their credit to support their words. Word is no substitute for deed; often it is an excuse for the lack of deed. And they should stay clear of anyone who is known to promote regionalism and sectarianism. Our society has enough problems as it is, thank you very much.

Jamyang Norbu: Travel Guides to Tibet - From History to Hotel list (Essay from December 1986)

Editorial: Lhasang Tsering - Empty Resolutions (December 1986)

"I was disappointed to see the changes." - Interview with Heinrich Harrer by Tsering Tashi

Editorial: Prof. Dawa T. Norbu - Armed Struggle in the Offing

Armed Struggle in the Offing
Editorial by Prof. Dawa T. Norbu (January/February 1976)

      If the various Tibetan youth publications are any indication, there is growing militancy among the youth in exile. Some of their writings are full of sound and fury of violence, and whether they will signify anything is yet to be seen. However, at least one thing seems to be certain: a sizable section of the youth has at last summoned enough courage to challange the heaven-ordained policies of their leader. Even if their militant mood is a sign of youthful impatience and frustration, it must be welcomed as an encouraging reminder that the Tibetan youth in exile, upon whose shoulder the national burden falls, have not forgotten their cause.

      The current militancy and impatience among the young exiles is understandable enough, although pragmatists might scoff at the idea. Most of them have grown up in exile under alien influences being thrown aboard and submerged in a sea full of ideas and changes their parents never experienced before. They have witnessed great changes in world politics during the last sixteen years of their exile. They have watched with envy the creation of an independent Bangladesh, the consummation of a popular national liberation struggle in Vietnam, Bhutan’s spectacular entry into the United Nations as an independent nation, and more recently Yasser Arafat’s astonishing success in the United Nations, which seems to vindicate the use of violence or terrorism as an effective instrument of struggle for national rights.

      The youth have also watched with great dismay Nepal’s disarmament of Khampa guerillas after a decade of tolerance if not connivance, Bhutan’s ‘bully’ action against Tibetan refugees following a baseless accusation of Tibetan involvement in an alleged plot in the kingdom, and above all the benign neglect of the Tibetan Question by a world full of increasing apathy and indifference. All these seem to indicate to the youth the failure of non-violence - the way of prayers and petitions.

      The failure of a strategies ultimately a reflection on a leadership that does not seem to take stock of the changing situation, a leadership that does not dare to take risks, a leadership that belives in survivalism. It must be admitted that the youth also have a share in this. As many a veteran Khampa points out the youth might know more and talk more but are not willing to suffer and sacrifice - ‘They are soft.’ Apart from the current sound and fury of violence, there has been no actual demonstration of sacrifice for the national cause by any youth. There have been no hijackings, no bomb outrages or spectacular kidnappings. The lamas have done no better. While Buddhist monks in Vietnam or elsewhere immolate themselves for their faith, Tibetan monks in exile seem to anhor the prospects of life after death and content themselves with rituals for a struggle that they hope their gods will fight for them.

      In an important sense the core of the Tibetan failure in an armed struggle is the peculiar nature of the Tibetan leadership. In peacetime such a leadership could be admirable but under the present circumstances it is totally unsuited, especially if it is to be an armed struggle as some sections of the youth are advocating now. There is a tragic irony in the whole structure of the traditional leadership; if it is an asset for ‘peaceful means,’ it is a liability in an armed struggle. And it has brought almost an equal proportion of advantages and disadvantages to its people. Whatever the Tibetan refugees have achieved since 1959 - and the achievement is quite remarkable by refugee standards - owes largely to the international stature and powerful personality of the 14th Dalai Lama. While refugees from other parts of the world are forgotten one by one and never heard from again, the eighty-thousand Tibetan refugees have managed to remain as a cultural entity and a power to reckon with in their own right. The Dalai Lama is both the cause and effect of all this. Under his leadership they have managed to: set up a ‘governement-in-exile’ of their own, create a Khampa force, rehabilitate themselves honourably, educate their children on a scale that is unprecedent in their history and above all managed to raise the Question of Tibet in the United Nations on a few occasion. Few other refugee communities, if any, have achieved so much.

      But if the preponderantly spiritual nature of the Tibetan leadership is largely responsible for the Tibetan ‘refugee achievments’, it is equally responsible for the conspicuous lack of progress in their armed struggle for independence. The tragedy is that given the basic nature of the leadership, the present leadership would be incapable of any drastic or violent action, no matter how much the situation cries for such action. The Dalai Lama is a Buddhist both by training and conviction, and cannot obviously become a Ho Chi Minh, a Yasser Arafat or even a Sheikh Mujib, although that is the urgent call. To make the matter doubly tragic it is impossible for any other leader, secular or otherwise, to replace or even challange the Dalai Lama’s leadership as long as he lives. This is not because he wants to perpetuate his ‘rule’ like other worldly politicians, but because of the five centuries of ‘papal’ authority and aura surrounding the name of the Dalai Lama which is convincingly substained by the remarkable character and personality of the present Dalai Lama. All this makes any alternative in the leadership impossible and adds a tragic inevitibility to the Tibetan drama.

      Yet, if one were to objectively analyse the past twenty-five years of Tibetan resistance against the Chinese, one would arrive at the irresistible conclusion that the armed struggle could not produce much result because there was no Tibetan Ho Chi Minh, Che Guevara or even a Tibetan Sheikh Mujib. The leader of a nationalist movement can not successfully conduct a struggle from a palace or monastery divorced from the struggle itself. As the experience of national liberation movements in the third world demonstrates, success of any such struggle depends much on the extent to which a leader is able to emotionally and practically identify himself with his people, and also on the degree of his actual personal participation in the movement. Yet no Tibetan in his right frame of mind can imagine the living Buddha of compassion (the Dalai Lama) leading an armed struggle! The impact of his benign leadership and of Buddhism on the Tibetan struggle is a surprising lack of hatred against the national enemy, apart from the colourful wrath of the Khampas. The bullwork of most nationalist movements in other parts of the world has been a fundamental hatred against the oppressor, and without that anti-enemy feeling it would be almost impossible to mobilise masses and lead a nationalist struggle.

      Under such circumstances the role of a ‘God-King’ is far from easy. The Dalai Lama had been caught in an agonising dilemma, ever since the Khampas began their armed resistance. As he admits in his memoirs, part of him ‘greatly admired’ the Khampa warriors revolting courageously although helplessly against the Chinese. But his surprising sense of realism and his belief in non-violence compelled him to view the Khampa struggle as futile and suicidal. As such he contented himself with the role of ‘the only possible peace-maker’ between violent Tibetans who were desperately fighting for all that the Dalai Lama symbolises and the Chinese who were ruthlessly suppressing them. From this it is fair to conclude that the Dalai Lama opted for a ‘peaceful means’ more under practical considerations rather than on ground of Buddhist teachings. In that case the notion that an armed struggle is incompatible with the Buddhist tenet of non-violence is only of conceptual importance. It should be remembered that it waas only after the Chinese forces overhelmed the Tibetan army in Chamdo that they had to agree to a ‘peaceful liberation’.

      The debate therefore is not whether an armed struggle is incompatible with Buddhist teachings; there is enough scope in the religion to find justification for violence, if necessary. The question, however, isa whether violence is worth the blood to be shed; and while the old guards in the Tibetan manner of horse-trading do not think so, the young on the other hand feel otherwise, especially in the light of recent terrorists’ experiences. Furthermore, they dismiss some of their elders’ toying with the idea of a Gandhian technique of non-violence being totally unsuited to the Tibetan situation, as a part of the refugee syndrome which has developed in India among Tibetans. But the real question in the ultimate analysis is not only whether the Dalai Lama will sanction and bless violence as an effective means of struggle, which he might under compulsion and which he might go a long way towards fighting for their cause, but whether the leader himself can become a fighter as well and lead an armed struggle. And that is a most difficult thing for a Dalai Lama to do, but short of that would not make much difference to the cause.

      Whatever their final resolutions, the Tibetan leadership must accept a truth: the efficacy of violence as means of national liberation struggle. To prove the validity of this truth one need not to go outside Tibet’s history. Tibet had an Empire from the 7th to 10th centuries and it was build, like other empires, not by the miracles of religion but largely by steel and blood. Tibet’s dramatic reduction in size and power since Lamas became Kings, and her final disappearance in 1950 owes primarily to her obsessive preoccupation with religion and non-violence.

Dawa T. Norbu: A Struggle in Travail (February/March 1975)

A Struggle in Travail
Editorial by Mr. Dawa T. Norbu (February/March 1975)

      It is now twenty-five years since the Chinese invasion, and sixteen years since the Lhasa Uprising when China turned Tibet, for all practical purposes, into a Chinese province. During this period Tibet has witnessed the biggest upheavals in her history, and Tibetan response to such challenges has also changed according to changing circumstances and situations.

      It is only inevitable that the old-fashioned Khampa-type of resistance should come to an end. For one thing that gallant but cumbersome generation is ageing, but more importantly the Tibetans have acquired in the course of their protracted struggle valuable experience. They have learned new ideas and new techniques of guerilla warfare. Now with the emergence of a new generation of Tibetan freedom fighters both in and outside Tibet, the whole conception of Tibetan nationalism has changed. If the ageing generation fought for the glory of their faith, the new generation is at pains to view the struggle in terms of nationalism as it is prevalent in the third wolrd today. Although there is some confusion at present as it usually happens during a transition, the new conception of Tibetan national liberation struggle has the potential to acquire greater clarity and in due course to crystalise into something concrete.

      One of the tragedies of the Tibetan struggle has been the agonising dilemma between a total armed struggle and a ‘peaceful means’. In the past both the nature of the Tibetan leadership and prudence preferred a ‘peaceful means’. As such the struggle has been characterised by a conspicuous lack of hatred against the enemy; at best it is a strange love-hate struggle. It is a monumental tribute to the all-embracing compassion preached by Tibetan Buddhism. But while praiseworthy in the realm of ethics, it has played a significant negative role in the Tibetan freedom struggle.

      While Muslim leaders can declare jahed against their national enemies, the Dalai Lama has made no such declaration: he has so far stuck to his belief. His stand is to be defended both on grounds of pragmatism and his non-violent creed. While Arafat forced his way into the UNO and occupy a seat in the world body, the Tibetans in exile continue to petition and pray. It is true the Palestinian Liberation Organisation is being greatly aided and armed by the Arab countries, while the Tibetans are not so fortunate. But unless a movement is at least moving in some direction and unless its leaders can demonstrate their capacity and show promising results, no external aid can be expected.

      No power wants to be involved uselessly in a cause that shows no substantive results. It is up to those who are commited to a cause to convince other friendly powers by their demonstrative results, not by pleading.

      At the same time to ignore the serious handicaps of the Tibetan struggle would be unfair. In Tibet, for example, although the nature and dialectic of the struggle has changed remarkably for the better, the young freedom fighters face greater difficulties than ever before. The Chinese occupation troops are deeply entrenched and Chinese colonial power is considerably consolidated during the past 25 years. This means that the Tibetan populace is kept under an efficient military subjugation and the chances of revolt are minimised by terror. Added to all this is that the Tibetan population is scattered over a continental area which makes mass mobilisation difficult. All thesepartly explain the phenomena that resistance exists mostly in pockets and generally lacking co-ordination.

      But the redeeming feature of the new trend is that it is not the old Tibetans who have now more or less resigned to their fate but the young, many of whom are educated in China, who are now spearheading a more effective, though on a smaller and less colourful scale, resistance against the Chinese overlordship in

      Tibet. Their perception of nationalism is clear and simple: Tibet belongs to the Tibetan people. And the dialectic of their struggle is that they see an ‘antagonistic contradiction’ between what they have learnt in Chinese socialist schools and what the Chinese actually practise in Tibet.

      There is nothing surprising about the emerging new trend in Tibetan resistance against the Chinese. The recent history of Marxism indicates the Marxist ideology in a closed society in which it must necessarily function if it is to paradoxically succeed, has promoted more nationalism and chauvinism than proletarian internationalism. Sadly proletarian internationalism and exploitation-free society remain as romantic and remote as the pious goals of various religions. Such lofty goals are reverendly shelved away in the time future and therefore do not concern much except for occasional invocations. What matters most and hence shapespolicy thinking is what matters now and here: ‘national interest’.

T.N.Takla: The Panchen Lama - Where is he? (August-September 1969)