BEIJING - A spell in hospital by the Dalai Lama highlights enormous complexities likely to arise when the 73-year-old Nobel Peace Prize winner does pass away.
Revered by Tibetan Buddhists as their spiritual leader, but loathed by China as a troublemaking separatist, the Dalai Lama smiled and waved to supporters as he left a hospital in India on Monday after being treated for four days for a stomach ailment.
But questions about the mortality of a man who supporters believe is actually the latest reincarnation of a long line of enlightened masters are now being raised.
There are also questions about who will succeed him as head of Tibet's government-in-exile, as well as the future of the Himalayan region itself.
Analysts say China, which rules Tibet, and the Dalai Lama's government-in-exile, which wants autonomy for the region, are likely to embark on bitter rival searches for a reincarnated successor -- as happened when other senior Tibetan Buddhist leaders have died in the past.
But they also predict widespread unrest in the region despite Beijing being likely to introduce draconian security measures.
The Dalai Lama's death and the search for his successor could create a rallying point at home for more than 5 million Tibetans, many of whom are unhappy with Communist rule.
"There will definitely be rioting. It'll be a lot bigger in scale than March 14," said Wang Lixiong, Chinese author of three books on Tibet, said, referring to unrest which spilled over into nearby Tibetan populated provinces in March and in ensuing weeks. Lodi Gyari, the Dalai Lama's envoy in Washington, has warned of potential instability unless the Tibet issue -- an emotive one for many Westerners from the U.S. Congress to Hollywood -- is resolved within the Dalai Lama's lifetime.
"We Tibetans, being pragmatic, will recognize violence will only be a means but not an answer to our struggle," said Khedroob Thondup, a nephew of the Dalai Lama.
Complicating matters is the fact that Beijing will almost certainly appoint its own successor to the Dalai Lama.
"But this will just be futile as the Tibetan people will not recognize him," Khedroob Thondup, a member of Tibet's parliament-in-exile, said in an interview from his home in India.
After the 10th Panchen Lama, Tibetan Buddhism's second most senior figure, died in 1989, Beijing and the Dalai Lama made rival choices for his successor, and the Dalai Lama's choice, then aged six, suddenly disappeared from public view.
Tibetans around the world say he was kidnapped by Chinese authorities and human rights watchdogs have called him the world's youngest political prisoner. China denies the accusations and insists he and his family do not want to be disturbed.
China has defended its rule in Tibet, saying life has improved for most Tibetans since the Dalai Lama fled. China has poured billions of yuan into the Himalayan region and opened a 1,142-km (710-mile) railway linking it to the rest of China.
But the harsh crackdown since March has fuelled a vicious cycle fanning ethnic tensions.
Many exiled Tibetans have clamored for independence and shun the Dalai Lama's "Middle Way" approach that advocates autonomy. The leadership vacuum in Tibetan Buddhism is tipped by some Tibetologists to be filled by the Karmapa Lama, ranked third in the religion's hierarchy who followed in the Dalai Lama's footsteps and fled into exile in India in 2000.
Another candidate is Yabshi Pan Rinzinwangmo, daughter of the 10th Panchen Lama.
The Central Intelligence Agency trained and provided arms and radio equipment for Tibetan guerrillas fighting the People's Liberation Army from the 1950s to the 1960s, but pulled the plug in 1972 when then U.S. President Richard Nixon visited China.
But the possibility of Tibetans resuming guerrilla warfare in the post-Dalai Lama era is extremely remote without the backing of the United States.
Washington has been a vocal critic of China's human rights record and has urged Beijing to continue dialogue with the Dalai Lama. But it is also is counting on China's help in reining in a nuclear North Korea.
Wednesday, 3 September 2008
Friday, 15 August 2008
Moving on to Tibet
BEIJING: China's cup runneth over. The Olympics are a milestone in Chinese history, a celebration of the Middle Kingdom's return to international greatness after nearly two centuries of torpor and humiliation.
Yet the Olympics could end up being the second-most-significant event in China this year.
The Chinese leadership and the Tibetan government in exile have delicately discussed a possible visit by the Dalai Lama to China, nominally to commemorate the victims of the earthquake in Sichuan province in May. That would be the first meeting between the Dalai Lama and Chinese leaders in more than 50 years and would give enormous impetus to resolving the Tibet question.
The opportunity arises in part because of the Dalai Lama's public acknowledgment last week for the first time that he could accept Communist Party rule for Tibet. Previously, the Dalai Lama had seemed to demand something like the "one country, two systems" model of Hong Kong, and his concession was a courageous signal of his yearning to reach a deal with the Chinese government.
"The Dalai Lama has taken the kind of courageous step that great political leaders make at crucial turning points in history," said Melvyn Goldstein, a prominent historian of modern Tibet and a professor at Case Western Reserve University. "After more than 20 years of stalemate, the Dalai Lama, at great risk to his standing in the West and among Tibetans in exile, has unilaterally sent Beijing a clear signal that he is now ready to accept the kind of difficult compromises that are needed to resolve the conflict."
"For the first time in decades, reconciliation is now genuinely possible," Goldstein added.
Since then, the Dalai Lama has been scolded by many Tibetans who think that he has been too conciliatory toward China. President Bush and other leaders should praise his courage in taking such a difficult step toward reconciliation.
The big question now is whether China will respond with its own olive branch. At a Foreign Ministry press conference on Wednesday, a spokesman, Qin Gang, said only: "Our position and policy on the Tibet-related issue is clear and persistent. We should not only take into account what the Dalai Lama said, but what he has done. We need to see concrete action."
That was less than an effusive welcome but better than another knee-jerk denunciation of the Dalai Lama. My sense is that Chinese government officials are waiting for direction from their own top leaders.
If President Hu Jintao and Prime Minister Wen Jiabao respond with approval, and especially if they pursue a visit by the Dalai Lama in November on the six-month anniversary of the earthquake in Sichuan province - then they just might resolve the Tibet problem that has dogged all previous Communist leaders. As a first step, they should take over the Tibet portfolio from the United Front Work Department, so that top-level talks can proceed directly between the Dalai Lama and either Hu or Wen.
Some Chinese officials believe that the best strategy to deal with Tibet is to wait for the Dalai Lama to die. Without a leader, they think, Tibetans will be more compliant - but that is a catastrophic miscalculation.
On the contrary, the Dalai Lama, who is 73, is restraining Tibetans, and he speaks some Chinese and has roots in China in a way that younger Tibetan exiles do not. Once he is gone, more radical groups - including the Tibetan Youth Congress - will gain sway and many frustrated Tibetans, left on their own, are likely to turn to violence.
Hu this year engaged in bold diplomacy to defuse tensions with Japan and Taiwan alike. China's willingness to sound out the Dalai Lama about a visit to commemorate the earthquake victims is a ray of hope for similar outreach to Tibetans. The United States can't do much to help - this has to be worked out between the Dalai Lama and the Chinese leadership - but the U.S. can do more to encourage the process and nudge it to a higher level.
Western leaders, including Bush, have mostly engaged in the politics of symbolism regarding Tibet - choreographing photos with the Dalai Lama, issuing protests, or calling for China-Tibet talks that everyone knows will get nowhere. What we need is less symbolism and more diplomatic heavy-lifting aimed at a practical settlement of the Tibet question.
Hu and Wen are basking in good will from their management of the Olympics, so far widely perceived as a triumph for China. If they can also bring the Dalai Lama back to China in November and engineer a deal to resolve Tibet's future, that would be an even more monumental achievement.
It is in their hands.
Yet the Olympics could end up being the second-most-significant event in China this year.
The Chinese leadership and the Tibetan government in exile have delicately discussed a possible visit by the Dalai Lama to China, nominally to commemorate the victims of the earthquake in Sichuan province in May. That would be the first meeting between the Dalai Lama and Chinese leaders in more than 50 years and would give enormous impetus to resolving the Tibet question.
The opportunity arises in part because of the Dalai Lama's public acknowledgment last week for the first time that he could accept Communist Party rule for Tibet. Previously, the Dalai Lama had seemed to demand something like the "one country, two systems" model of Hong Kong, and his concession was a courageous signal of his yearning to reach a deal with the Chinese government.
"The Dalai Lama has taken the kind of courageous step that great political leaders make at crucial turning points in history," said Melvyn Goldstein, a prominent historian of modern Tibet and a professor at Case Western Reserve University. "After more than 20 years of stalemate, the Dalai Lama, at great risk to his standing in the West and among Tibetans in exile, has unilaterally sent Beijing a clear signal that he is now ready to accept the kind of difficult compromises that are needed to resolve the conflict."
"For the first time in decades, reconciliation is now genuinely possible," Goldstein added.
Since then, the Dalai Lama has been scolded by many Tibetans who think that he has been too conciliatory toward China. President Bush and other leaders should praise his courage in taking such a difficult step toward reconciliation.
The big question now is whether China will respond with its own olive branch. At a Foreign Ministry press conference on Wednesday, a spokesman, Qin Gang, said only: "Our position and policy on the Tibet-related issue is clear and persistent. We should not only take into account what the Dalai Lama said, but what he has done. We need to see concrete action."
That was less than an effusive welcome but better than another knee-jerk denunciation of the Dalai Lama. My sense is that Chinese government officials are waiting for direction from their own top leaders.
If President Hu Jintao and Prime Minister Wen Jiabao respond with approval, and especially if they pursue a visit by the Dalai Lama in November on the six-month anniversary of the earthquake in Sichuan province - then they just might resolve the Tibet problem that has dogged all previous Communist leaders. As a first step, they should take over the Tibet portfolio from the United Front Work Department, so that top-level talks can proceed directly between the Dalai Lama and either Hu or Wen.
Some Chinese officials believe that the best strategy to deal with Tibet is to wait for the Dalai Lama to die. Without a leader, they think, Tibetans will be more compliant - but that is a catastrophic miscalculation.
On the contrary, the Dalai Lama, who is 73, is restraining Tibetans, and he speaks some Chinese and has roots in China in a way that younger Tibetan exiles do not. Once he is gone, more radical groups - including the Tibetan Youth Congress - will gain sway and many frustrated Tibetans, left on their own, are likely to turn to violence.
Hu this year engaged in bold diplomacy to defuse tensions with Japan and Taiwan alike. China's willingness to sound out the Dalai Lama about a visit to commemorate the earthquake victims is a ray of hope for similar outreach to Tibetans. The United States can't do much to help - this has to be worked out between the Dalai Lama and the Chinese leadership - but the U.S. can do more to encourage the process and nudge it to a higher level.
Western leaders, including Bush, have mostly engaged in the politics of symbolism regarding Tibet - choreographing photos with the Dalai Lama, issuing protests, or calling for China-Tibet talks that everyone knows will get nowhere. What we need is less symbolism and more diplomatic heavy-lifting aimed at a practical settlement of the Tibet question.
Hu and Wen are basking in good will from their management of the Olympics, so far widely perceived as a triumph for China. If they can also bring the Dalai Lama back to China in November and engineer a deal to resolve Tibet's future, that would be an even more monumental achievement.
It is in their hands.
Thursday, 31 July 2008
China wins the Olympic Gold medal for Repression.
Leading up to the Olympics Beijing has practically closed down Tibet and banished all monks to forced confinement in Qinghai. In addition perverse paranoia has been unleashed all over China with the authorities chasing their own shadows. Human rights has become a four letter word HURT. Press freedom is to be severely curtailed so where is the Olympic Spirit, evidently boxed in by severe pollution. China can be proud to announce its victory hands down in the event for repression
Friday, 2 May 2008
Dalai Lama's envoys travel to China for talks
Envoys of the Dalai Lama were traveling to China for talks aimed at ending the crisis in Tibet, the exiled Tibetan spiritual leader's office said Friday.
The talks would be the first official contact between representatives of the Tibetan exiles and the Chinese government since protests turned violent in Tibet in March.
The two envoys will arrive in China on Saturday for "informal talks with representatives of the Chinese leadership," a statement from the Dalai Lama's office said. It gave no further details on where or when the talks would take place.
The representatives would convey the Dalai Lama's "deep concerns," over China's handling of the situation in Tibet and would put forward "suggestions to bring peace to the region," the statement said.
Last week, Beijing said that it would meet an envoy of the Dalai Lama. But China underscored long-established preconditions for negotiations, including that the Dalai Lama unambiguously recognize Tibet as a part of China.
The Dalai Lama, who fled Tibet amid a failed uprising in 1959, says he seeks meaningful autonomy for Tibet rather than independence from Chinese rule.
China and representatives of the Dalai Lama's government in exile held six rounds of inconclusive talks that foundered in 2006.
Despite long-running tensions, both sides have kept open back channels for dialogue, although they do not often talk about them and China does not acknowledge the existence of formal negotiations. Recent discussions have been led by the Dalai Lama's special envoy, Lodi Gyari.
Friday's statement said Gyari and another envoy, Kelsang Gyaltsen, would lead these talks and "raise the issue of moving forward on the process for a mutually satisfactory solution to the Tibetan issue."
Beijing has faced a chorus of calls from world leaders to open a dialogue. The decision comes as something of a reversal in the face of Beijing's relentless claims that the Dalai Lama and his followers had orchestrated March's violence in Tibet.
The recent protests in Tibet marked the most widespread and sustained action against Beijing's rule in decades, focusing attention on accusations that China's policies in the Himalayan region are eroding its traditional Buddhist culture and mainly benefit Chinese who moved there since its 1951 occupation by Communist troops.
China says 22 people died in violence in Tibet's capital of Lhasa, while overseas Tibet supporters say many times that number have been killed in protests and the security crackdown across Tibetan regions of western China.
The crackdown also stirred international protests against China during the world tour of the Olympic torch ahead of August's Olympic Games in Beijing. In several cities on the 20-nation tour, the torch relay was disrupted by pro-Tibet demonstrators.
The talks would be the first official contact between representatives of the Tibetan exiles and the Chinese government since protests turned violent in Tibet in March.
The two envoys will arrive in China on Saturday for "informal talks with representatives of the Chinese leadership," a statement from the Dalai Lama's office said. It gave no further details on where or when the talks would take place.
The representatives would convey the Dalai Lama's "deep concerns," over China's handling of the situation in Tibet and would put forward "suggestions to bring peace to the region," the statement said.
Last week, Beijing said that it would meet an envoy of the Dalai Lama. But China underscored long-established preconditions for negotiations, including that the Dalai Lama unambiguously recognize Tibet as a part of China.
The Dalai Lama, who fled Tibet amid a failed uprising in 1959, says he seeks meaningful autonomy for Tibet rather than independence from Chinese rule.
China and representatives of the Dalai Lama's government in exile held six rounds of inconclusive talks that foundered in 2006.
Despite long-running tensions, both sides have kept open back channels for dialogue, although they do not often talk about them and China does not acknowledge the existence of formal negotiations. Recent discussions have been led by the Dalai Lama's special envoy, Lodi Gyari.
Friday's statement said Gyari and another envoy, Kelsang Gyaltsen, would lead these talks and "raise the issue of moving forward on the process for a mutually satisfactory solution to the Tibetan issue."
Beijing has faced a chorus of calls from world leaders to open a dialogue. The decision comes as something of a reversal in the face of Beijing's relentless claims that the Dalai Lama and his followers had orchestrated March's violence in Tibet.
The recent protests in Tibet marked the most widespread and sustained action against Beijing's rule in decades, focusing attention on accusations that China's policies in the Himalayan region are eroding its traditional Buddhist culture and mainly benefit Chinese who moved there since its 1951 occupation by Communist troops.
China says 22 people died in violence in Tibet's capital of Lhasa, while overseas Tibet supporters say many times that number have been killed in protests and the security crackdown across Tibetan regions of western China.
The crackdown also stirred international protests against China during the world tour of the Olympic torch ahead of August's Olympic Games in Beijing. In several cities on the 20-nation tour, the torch relay was disrupted by pro-Tibet demonstrators.
Thursday, 1 May 2008
Angry China
CHINA is in a frightening mood. The sight of thousands of Chinese people waving xenophobic fists suggests that a country on its way to becoming a superpower may turn out to be a more dangerous force than optimists had hoped. But it isn't just foreigners who should be worried by these scenes: the Chinese government, which has encouraged this outburst of nationalism, should also be afraid.
For three decades, having shed communism in all but the name of its ruling party, China's government has justified its monopolistic hold on power through economic advance. Many Chinese enjoy a prosperity undreamt of by their forefathers. For them, though, it is no longer enough to be reminded of the grim austerity of their parents' childhoods. They need new aspirations.
The government's solution is to promise them that China will be restored to its rightful place at the centre of world affairs. Hence the pride at winning the Olympics, and the fury at the embarrassing protests during the torch relay. But the appeal to nationalism is a double-edged sword: while it provides a useful outlet for domestic discontents (see article), it could easily turn on the government itself.
The torch relay has galvanised protests about all manner of alleged Chinese crimes: in Tibet, in China's broader human-rights record, in its cosy relations with repellent regimes. And these in turn have drawn counter-protests from thousands of expatriate Chinese, from Chinese within the country and on the internet.
Chinese rage has focused on the alleged “anti-China” bias of the Western press, which is accused of ignoring violence by Tibetans in the unrest in March. From this starting-point China's defenders have gone on to denounce the entire edifice of Western liberal democracy as a sham. Using its tenets to criticise China is, they claim, sheer hypocrisy. They cite further evidence of double standards: having exported its dirtiest industries to China, the West wants the country to curb its carbon emissions, potentially impeding its growth and depriving newly well-off Chinese of their right to a motor car. And as the presidential election campaign in America progresses, more China-bashing can be expected, with protectionism disguised as noble fury at “coddling dictators”.
China's rage is out of all proportion to the alleged offences. It reflects a fear that a resentful, threatened West is determined to thwart China's rise. The Olympics have become a symbol of China's right to the respect it is due. Protests, criticism and boycott threats are seen as part of a broader refusal to accept and accommodate China.
There is no doubt genuine fury in China at these offences; yet the impression the response gives of a people united behind the government is an illusion. China, like India, is a land of a million mutinies now. Legions of farmers are angry that their land has been swallowed up for building by greedy local officials. People everywhere are aghast at the poisoning of China's air, rivers and lakes in the race for growth. Hardworking, honest citizens chafe at corrupt officials who treat them with contempt and get rich quick. And the party still makes an ass of the law and a mockery of justice.
Herein lies the danger for the government. Popular anger, once roused, can easily switch targets. This weekend China will be commemorating an event seen as pivotal in its long revolution—the protests on May 4th 1919 against the humiliation of China by the Versailles treaty (which bequeathed German “concessions” in China to Japan). The Communist Party had roots in that movement. Now, as then, protests at perceived slights against China's dignity could turn against a government accused of not doing enough to safeguard it.
Remember the ides of May
Western businessmen and policymakers are pulled in opposite directions by Chinese anger. As the sponsors of the Olympics have learned to their cost, while consumer- and shareholder-activists in the West demand they take a stand against perceived Chinese abuses, in China itself firms' partners and customers are all too ready to take offence. Western policymakers also face a difficult balancing act. They need to recognise that China has come a long way very quickly, and offers its citizens new opportunities and even new freedoms, though these are still far short of what would constitute democracy. Yet that does not mean they should pander to China's pride. Western leaders have a duty to raise concerns about human rights, Tibet and other “sensitive” subjects. They do not need to resign themselves to ineffectiveness: up to a point, pressure works: China has been modestly helpful over Myanmar, North Korea and Sudan. It has even agreed to reopen talks with the Dalai Lama's representatives. This has happened because of, not despite, criticism from abroad.
Pessimists fear that if China faces too much such pressure, hardliners within the ruling elite will triumph over the “moderates” in charge now. But even if they did, it is hard to see how they could end the 30-year-old process of opening up and turn China in on itself. This unprecedented phenomenon, of the rapid integration into the world of its most populous country, seems irreversible. There are things that could be done to make it easier to manage—including reform of the architecture of the global institutions that reflect a 60-year-old world order. But the world and China have to learn to live with each other.
For China, that means learning to respect foreigners' rights to engage it even on its “internal affairs”. A more measured response to such criticism is necessary not only to China's great-power ambitions, but also to its internal stability; for while the government may distract Chinese people from their domestic discontents by breathing fire at foreigners, such anger, once roused, can run out of control. In the end, China's leaders will have to deal with those frustrations head-on, by tackling the pollution, the corruption and the human-rights abuses that contribute to the country's dangerous mood. The Chinese people will demand it.
For three decades, having shed communism in all but the name of its ruling party, China's government has justified its monopolistic hold on power through economic advance. Many Chinese enjoy a prosperity undreamt of by their forefathers. For them, though, it is no longer enough to be reminded of the grim austerity of their parents' childhoods. They need new aspirations.
The government's solution is to promise them that China will be restored to its rightful place at the centre of world affairs. Hence the pride at winning the Olympics, and the fury at the embarrassing protests during the torch relay. But the appeal to nationalism is a double-edged sword: while it provides a useful outlet for domestic discontents (see article), it could easily turn on the government itself.
The torch relay has galvanised protests about all manner of alleged Chinese crimes: in Tibet, in China's broader human-rights record, in its cosy relations with repellent regimes. And these in turn have drawn counter-protests from thousands of expatriate Chinese, from Chinese within the country and on the internet.
Chinese rage has focused on the alleged “anti-China” bias of the Western press, which is accused of ignoring violence by Tibetans in the unrest in March. From this starting-point China's defenders have gone on to denounce the entire edifice of Western liberal democracy as a sham. Using its tenets to criticise China is, they claim, sheer hypocrisy. They cite further evidence of double standards: having exported its dirtiest industries to China, the West wants the country to curb its carbon emissions, potentially impeding its growth and depriving newly well-off Chinese of their right to a motor car. And as the presidential election campaign in America progresses, more China-bashing can be expected, with protectionism disguised as noble fury at “coddling dictators”.
China's rage is out of all proportion to the alleged offences. It reflects a fear that a resentful, threatened West is determined to thwart China's rise. The Olympics have become a symbol of China's right to the respect it is due. Protests, criticism and boycott threats are seen as part of a broader refusal to accept and accommodate China.
There is no doubt genuine fury in China at these offences; yet the impression the response gives of a people united behind the government is an illusion. China, like India, is a land of a million mutinies now. Legions of farmers are angry that their land has been swallowed up for building by greedy local officials. People everywhere are aghast at the poisoning of China's air, rivers and lakes in the race for growth. Hardworking, honest citizens chafe at corrupt officials who treat them with contempt and get rich quick. And the party still makes an ass of the law and a mockery of justice.
Herein lies the danger for the government. Popular anger, once roused, can easily switch targets. This weekend China will be commemorating an event seen as pivotal in its long revolution—the protests on May 4th 1919 against the humiliation of China by the Versailles treaty (which bequeathed German “concessions” in China to Japan). The Communist Party had roots in that movement. Now, as then, protests at perceived slights against China's dignity could turn against a government accused of not doing enough to safeguard it.
Remember the ides of May
Western businessmen and policymakers are pulled in opposite directions by Chinese anger. As the sponsors of the Olympics have learned to their cost, while consumer- and shareholder-activists in the West demand they take a stand against perceived Chinese abuses, in China itself firms' partners and customers are all too ready to take offence. Western policymakers also face a difficult balancing act. They need to recognise that China has come a long way very quickly, and offers its citizens new opportunities and even new freedoms, though these are still far short of what would constitute democracy. Yet that does not mean they should pander to China's pride. Western leaders have a duty to raise concerns about human rights, Tibet and other “sensitive” subjects. They do not need to resign themselves to ineffectiveness: up to a point, pressure works: China has been modestly helpful over Myanmar, North Korea and Sudan. It has even agreed to reopen talks with the Dalai Lama's representatives. This has happened because of, not despite, criticism from abroad.
Pessimists fear that if China faces too much such pressure, hardliners within the ruling elite will triumph over the “moderates” in charge now. But even if they did, it is hard to see how they could end the 30-year-old process of opening up and turn China in on itself. This unprecedented phenomenon, of the rapid integration into the world of its most populous country, seems irreversible. There are things that could be done to make it easier to manage—including reform of the architecture of the global institutions that reflect a 60-year-old world order. But the world and China have to learn to live with each other.
For China, that means learning to respect foreigners' rights to engage it even on its “internal affairs”. A more measured response to such criticism is necessary not only to China's great-power ambitions, but also to its internal stability; for while the government may distract Chinese people from their domestic discontents by breathing fire at foreigners, such anger, once roused, can run out of control. In the end, China's leaders will have to deal with those frustrations head-on, by tackling the pollution, the corruption and the human-rights abuses that contribute to the country's dangerous mood. The Chinese people will demand it.
China acknowledges Tibetan death in unrest
A gun battle in a rural area of northwest China earlier this week left a policeman and Tibetan insurgent dead, according to state-run media.
It was China's first official admission that any Tibetans have died in the anti-government unrest that began in mid-March.
The incident, according to the Xinhua news agency, occurred in Qinghai Province after the police tried to arrest a man who they say led a group of herders seeking to incite a riot a week after the March 14 disturbances that shook Lhasa, the capital of the Tibet Autonomous Region.
Tibetan exile groups say that more than 200 people, most of them Tibetan, have died in the crackdowns that have racked northwest China in recent weeks. But so far, the Chinese authorities have acknowledged the deaths of only 19 people, most of them members of the Han majority the government has encouraged to migrate to Tibetan areas of the country.
There have been official accounts of clashes in which police officers fire on crowds but without any deaths reported. On March 16, according to official news accounts, the police shot and wounded protesters in the town of Ngawa, in Sichuan Province. Exile groups later released photographs of six people they say died in the incident.
On Wednesday, the government announced long sentences for 30 Tibetans involved in the rioting in Lhasa, handing out sentences ranging from three years to life in prison for attacking the police, burning vehicles and looting stores. The authorities have promised to try another 52 people in the coming weeks; another 88 people, according to Xinhua, are still being sought.
The White House voiced concern over the sentences, which included life terms for two men and 15 to 20 years for five monks. "We don't think that anyone should break the law, but we also believe in freedom of expression and assembly," said Dana Perino, a White House spokeswoman.
In a report on Wednesday, a Tibetan advocacy group based in the United States said that the government crackdown included sweeps of Tibetan monasteries, the arrests of 160 monks and a massive "patriotic education" effort designed to stamp out sympathy for the Dalai Lama and pro-independence sentiment. The group, the International Campaign for Tibet, said several distraught monks had committed suicide in recent weeks and that the authorities had destroyed or defaced religious imagery and photographs of the Dalai Lama, which are banned by the Chinese government.
Because Tibet and neighboring areas are closed to the Western media, there was no independent way to verify the accounts.
According to Xinhua, the bloodshed on Monday began after members of the Qinghai public security bureau tried to detain men who officials described as "insurgents seeking Tibetan independence." It said the men, residents of Dari County, resisted arrest and in the ensuing gunfire, a policeman named Lama Cedain was killed. The account did not indicate who shot the officer or whether the men being sought had weapons. Private gun ownership is extremely rare in China.
Xinhua said 1,000 people had attended a funeral for the slain officer, whose coffin was draped in a Chinese flag.
It was China's first official admission that any Tibetans have died in the anti-government unrest that began in mid-March.
The incident, according to the Xinhua news agency, occurred in Qinghai Province after the police tried to arrest a man who they say led a group of herders seeking to incite a riot a week after the March 14 disturbances that shook Lhasa, the capital of the Tibet Autonomous Region.
Tibetan exile groups say that more than 200 people, most of them Tibetan, have died in the crackdowns that have racked northwest China in recent weeks. But so far, the Chinese authorities have acknowledged the deaths of only 19 people, most of them members of the Han majority the government has encouraged to migrate to Tibetan areas of the country.
There have been official accounts of clashes in which police officers fire on crowds but without any deaths reported. On March 16, according to official news accounts, the police shot and wounded protesters in the town of Ngawa, in Sichuan Province. Exile groups later released photographs of six people they say died in the incident.
On Wednesday, the government announced long sentences for 30 Tibetans involved in the rioting in Lhasa, handing out sentences ranging from three years to life in prison for attacking the police, burning vehicles and looting stores. The authorities have promised to try another 52 people in the coming weeks; another 88 people, according to Xinhua, are still being sought.
The White House voiced concern over the sentences, which included life terms for two men and 15 to 20 years for five monks. "We don't think that anyone should break the law, but we also believe in freedom of expression and assembly," said Dana Perino, a White House spokeswoman.
In a report on Wednesday, a Tibetan advocacy group based in the United States said that the government crackdown included sweeps of Tibetan monasteries, the arrests of 160 monks and a massive "patriotic education" effort designed to stamp out sympathy for the Dalai Lama and pro-independence sentiment. The group, the International Campaign for Tibet, said several distraught monks had committed suicide in recent weeks and that the authorities had destroyed or defaced religious imagery and photographs of the Dalai Lama, which are banned by the Chinese government.
Because Tibet and neighboring areas are closed to the Western media, there was no independent way to verify the accounts.
According to Xinhua, the bloodshed on Monday began after members of the Qinghai public security bureau tried to detain men who officials described as "insurgents seeking Tibetan independence." It said the men, residents of Dari County, resisted arrest and in the ensuing gunfire, a policeman named Lama Cedain was killed. The account did not indicate who shot the officer or whether the men being sought had weapons. Private gun ownership is extremely rare in China.
Xinhua said 1,000 people had attended a funeral for the slain officer, whose coffin was draped in a Chinese flag.
A step forward? Chinese media report a single Tibetan death
A milestone of sorts was reached on Wednesday with the reporting in China's carefully controlled media of the death of a Tibetan in a clash with Chinese security forces.
Estimates by Tibetan advocacy groups and international human rights groups of the numbers of Tibetan dead have ranged from scores of victims to the hundreds.
Remarkably, though, this was the very first such report of a Tibetan death since the outbreak in early March of demonstrations by Tibetans in their "autonomous region" and in the surrounding provinces where Tibetans live in large numbers.
A rolling thunder of nationalist anger has swept China in recent weeks, as Chinese have seethed over the demonstrations that have greeted the Olympic torch on its circuit around the world.
Given little context for understanding why foreigners should be moved to demonstrate in the first place, Chinese counterprotesters and countless voices in the media and on the Internet have reduced the entire matter to the realms of prejudice and anti-Chinese sentiment.
This effort has been advanced tremendously by the prominent use of a quote by the ever-gruff CNN commentator Jack Cafferty. Speaking about China at the time of the San Francisco leg of the torch relay, Cafferty described the Chinese as "basically the same bunch of goons and thugs they've been for the last 50 years."
Amid the predictable uproar, Cafferty issued a clarification saying that his comments were aimed at the Chinese government and not the people, but this has made little impression here, particularly among the campaigners for whom the original quote, without that context, was simply too good to let go of.
Many Americans will still be unaware of what Cafferty said, while few Chinese who follow the news could have missed it. Americans are used to sharing jaundiced views of politicians. One of the more venerable expressions in the political culture, after all, is "throw the bums out," meaning to vote despised politicians out of office. Chinese, of course, have no such option.
The heavy amplification of Cafferty's words here and the belated admission of a Tibetan death, albeit a single death ascribed to a gunfight, however, share more than a purely coincidental association. They form part of a much larger phenomenon acknowledged by Chinese journalists who work within the system: an information war being waged to channel opinion and nationalist sentiment in this country.
Earlier this month, an editor from a Beijing newspaper told The South China Morning Post, a Hong Kong newspaper, of a notice circulated by the Chinese Communist Party calling for an "unprecedented, ferocious media war against the biased Western press."
Another editor, who confirmed the directive, said in an interview this week: The Cafferty incident "is being used to demonize the Western media, reducing their credibility here. It's a good opportunity for the official media and for the Communist Party."
As "wars" go, this is one that relies on a particular asymmetry that depends upon keeping people here in the dark about all sorts of details. The public asks "why is the West brandishing Tibet to demonstrate against us" because it genuinely has little information about events, whether recent or more distant in that part of their country, save for a carefully pruned and officially sanctioned story line. While the Western media are accused of bias for supposedly giving short shrift to violence committed by rioting Tibetans in Lhasa on March 14, there is no mention in the Chinese media, not even at the level of allegations, of the deaths of numerous Tibetans in the ensuing crackdown. Tibet, meanwhile, has been closed to outsiders, enhancing the asymmetry.
Recent Chinese press accounts have endlessly reminded the public of Beijing's beneficence in ending "slavery" in Tibet and lifting Tibetans out of dire poverty since then. There has been no mention of the cultural, religious or environmental costs involved or almost anything else as seen from the perspective of Tibetans, many of whom fear forced assimilation and the destruction of their religion.
Tibetans in Lhasa and elsewhere report that their homes have been invaded by security forces searching for images of the Dalai Lama, the exiled Tibetan spiritual leader. At monasteries and temples all over western China, "re-education campaigns" have begun to force monks and others to recite the official line on Tibet, that the province has essentially always been part of China, and to renounce the Dalai Lama as a villainous "splittist."
The re-education drive is uncomfortably reminiscent of fumie, a practice in Japan's 16th century campaign against Christians, in which those who were suspected as believers were forced to trample on images of Jesus.
The Chinese public has been ill-prepared by its media to understand the Tibetan perspective. Indeed, the feeling that is being encouraged is that it is only the authorized domestic viewpoint on Tibet or on the Olympics that matters, and anything else is anti-Chinese.
There was an interesting twist to this unfortunate story last week, when the Olympic torch visited Seoul and modest numbers of Korean protesters turned out. Among them were the usual pro-Tibetan voices, but also Koreans who oppose China's forcible repatriation of North Koreans who are found illegally in China.
These protesters were swamped by Chinese students, who are legion these days in Seoul. According to local media reports, the Chinese counterdemonstrators behaved aggressively, kicking Koreans and throwing stones and bottles.
One might call this inconvenient stuff in the midst of a media war in which Western protesters had been upbraided for barbarous, anti-Chinese behavior, so this news was given little play here in China.
Facing international journalists, however, the Foreign Ministry spokeswoman, Jiang Yu, had an answer. Protesters who sympathize with Tibet, she said, "go against the concept of the Olympic spirit, of peace, friendship and progress." By contrast, she said, the "original idea of the Chinese students was kind and friendly," adding that they just got a little carried away.
Estimates by Tibetan advocacy groups and international human rights groups of the numbers of Tibetan dead have ranged from scores of victims to the hundreds.
Remarkably, though, this was the very first such report of a Tibetan death since the outbreak in early March of demonstrations by Tibetans in their "autonomous region" and in the surrounding provinces where Tibetans live in large numbers.
A rolling thunder of nationalist anger has swept China in recent weeks, as Chinese have seethed over the demonstrations that have greeted the Olympic torch on its circuit around the world.
Given little context for understanding why foreigners should be moved to demonstrate in the first place, Chinese counterprotesters and countless voices in the media and on the Internet have reduced the entire matter to the realms of prejudice and anti-Chinese sentiment.
This effort has been advanced tremendously by the prominent use of a quote by the ever-gruff CNN commentator Jack Cafferty. Speaking about China at the time of the San Francisco leg of the torch relay, Cafferty described the Chinese as "basically the same bunch of goons and thugs they've been for the last 50 years."
Amid the predictable uproar, Cafferty issued a clarification saying that his comments were aimed at the Chinese government and not the people, but this has made little impression here, particularly among the campaigners for whom the original quote, without that context, was simply too good to let go of.
Many Americans will still be unaware of what Cafferty said, while few Chinese who follow the news could have missed it. Americans are used to sharing jaundiced views of politicians. One of the more venerable expressions in the political culture, after all, is "throw the bums out," meaning to vote despised politicians out of office. Chinese, of course, have no such option.
The heavy amplification of Cafferty's words here and the belated admission of a Tibetan death, albeit a single death ascribed to a gunfight, however, share more than a purely coincidental association. They form part of a much larger phenomenon acknowledged by Chinese journalists who work within the system: an information war being waged to channel opinion and nationalist sentiment in this country.
Earlier this month, an editor from a Beijing newspaper told The South China Morning Post, a Hong Kong newspaper, of a notice circulated by the Chinese Communist Party calling for an "unprecedented, ferocious media war against the biased Western press."
Another editor, who confirmed the directive, said in an interview this week: The Cafferty incident "is being used to demonize the Western media, reducing their credibility here. It's a good opportunity for the official media and for the Communist Party."
As "wars" go, this is one that relies on a particular asymmetry that depends upon keeping people here in the dark about all sorts of details. The public asks "why is the West brandishing Tibet to demonstrate against us" because it genuinely has little information about events, whether recent or more distant in that part of their country, save for a carefully pruned and officially sanctioned story line. While the Western media are accused of bias for supposedly giving short shrift to violence committed by rioting Tibetans in Lhasa on March 14, there is no mention in the Chinese media, not even at the level of allegations, of the deaths of numerous Tibetans in the ensuing crackdown. Tibet, meanwhile, has been closed to outsiders, enhancing the asymmetry.
Recent Chinese press accounts have endlessly reminded the public of Beijing's beneficence in ending "slavery" in Tibet and lifting Tibetans out of dire poverty since then. There has been no mention of the cultural, religious or environmental costs involved or almost anything else as seen from the perspective of Tibetans, many of whom fear forced assimilation and the destruction of their religion.
Tibetans in Lhasa and elsewhere report that their homes have been invaded by security forces searching for images of the Dalai Lama, the exiled Tibetan spiritual leader. At monasteries and temples all over western China, "re-education campaigns" have begun to force monks and others to recite the official line on Tibet, that the province has essentially always been part of China, and to renounce the Dalai Lama as a villainous "splittist."
The re-education drive is uncomfortably reminiscent of fumie, a practice in Japan's 16th century campaign against Christians, in which those who were suspected as believers were forced to trample on images of Jesus.
The Chinese public has been ill-prepared by its media to understand the Tibetan perspective. Indeed, the feeling that is being encouraged is that it is only the authorized domestic viewpoint on Tibet or on the Olympics that matters, and anything else is anti-Chinese.
There was an interesting twist to this unfortunate story last week, when the Olympic torch visited Seoul and modest numbers of Korean protesters turned out. Among them were the usual pro-Tibetan voices, but also Koreans who oppose China's forcible repatriation of North Koreans who are found illegally in China.
These protesters were swamped by Chinese students, who are legion these days in Seoul. According to local media reports, the Chinese counterdemonstrators behaved aggressively, kicking Koreans and throwing stones and bottles.
One might call this inconvenient stuff in the midst of a media war in which Western protesters had been upbraided for barbarous, anti-Chinese behavior, so this news was given little play here in China.
Facing international journalists, however, the Foreign Ministry spokeswoman, Jiang Yu, had an answer. Protesters who sympathize with Tibet, she said, "go against the concept of the Olympic spirit, of peace, friendship and progress." By contrast, she said, the "original idea of the Chinese students was kind and friendly," adding that they just got a little carried away.
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