Tibetan self-immolations reach Lhasa

On Sunday two young Tibetan men self-immolated in Lhasa, one of whom died at the scene before police swiftly erased any trace of the incident (BBC). I called a friend in the city, and we discussed everything other than the incident. It went unmentioned, as these things do in Lhasa, where talk is dangerous.

At least 37 Tibetans have self-immolated since March of 2011, with most of the incidents taking place in eastern Tibet, an area the Chinese government considers a part of China. Sunday’s self-immolations were the first to spread to central Tibet and its capital, and the two young men chose one of the city’s most pivotal landmarks as the backdrop to their protest against China’s repressive rule—the Jokhang Temple. Built in the 7th century, the temple is one of Lhasa’s most important Buddhist sites, and it lies at the center of the Barkor, a devotional circuit where pilgrims circumambulate and a neighborhood of sorts where many Tibetans reside. A police station is located close to the entrance, and tents are set up along the route around the temple, under which a handful of policemen sit drinking tea and smoking cigarettes. Any sign of dissidence would surely be quelled instantly, but knowing this did not deter the two young men. Neither did the possibility of their death.

Up until Sunday the self-immolations occurred in places I had never before seen, and thereby could not fathom. The mind has a hard time comprehending disasters, especially in places it has never seen. Maybe this is why those who never saw the World Trade Towers standing had a difficult time interpreting the significance of their fall. Maybe this is why we photograph and film and erect museums and memorials–not to remember (because remembering is difficult) but to explain, to portray what once was.

Yet I have seen the Jokhang Temple, I have walked through the plaza countless times, and I still cannot fathom what it would be like to watch two young men light themselves on fire at the base of the enormous temple, the sheer size of which is diminished through a lens. Would they look somehow smaller in the shadow of it, or larger than life? How many would notice, but more importantly, how many would understand? How many would comprehend? How many would remember?

If the Chinese government were to have its way, no one would. In China, online searches for Jokhang Temple “turned up a message saying that according to laws and policies no search results could be shown” (NYTimes blog).

The Jokhang Temple’s main entrance, as viewed from the end of the plaza; 2011.

An image of the self-immolation in front of the Jokhang Temple, from Woeser’s blog: http://woeser.middle-way.net/2012/05/527.html

“This strip of four photos is circulating on Weibo, showing one of the self-immolations in front of the Jokhang in Lhasa on Sunday. The front of the Jokhang is visible in the first photograph, and behind it the Tashi Mandala hotel, and one of the two darchen or prayer flag poles in the square is visible in the last two photos. The pictures show a young man on fire walking across the largely deserted square as two young men run towards him with a cloth; the two young men trying to put out the fire with the cloth; two local policemen putting out the fire with a fire extinguisher and a cloth; and a western tourist taking photos.” Robert Barnett, founder and Director of the Modern Tibetan Studies Program at Columbia University

woodwork: norbulingka

The studios were situated on the floors between the stairwells; desks erected beside floor-to-ceiling windows allow artists to bathe in natural sunlight day in and out. Most of the desks were empty, save one. The man greeted us in Tibetan, and we spoke briefly, just long enough for me to learn that he once lived in a village near Lhasa, Tibet.

The Norbulingka Institute was built in the late 1980s to preserve Tibetan culture and artistic traditions. Read more about woodwork on their website:
http://www.norbulingka.org/index.htm?http%3A//www.norbulingka.org/woodwork/index.htm

Feels like Lhasa

Three young Tibetan men sit by the front window, clutching tingmo in hand, conversing in Tibetan as they dip the steamed bread into dishes teeming with meat, vegetables, and dried chillies. At the back of the restaurant, under a panoramic poster of Tibet’s capital city, Lhasa, four monks share a massive hot pot with individual bowls of rice, sipping from glass bottles of Mountain Dew between fits of hysterical laughter, wiping tears from their eyes with the edges of their maroon robes. It feels like Lhasa.

Chusum Restaurant’s eight tables are usually occupied by Tibetans feasting family-style on a handful of dishes, reminisce of the back-alley tea houses in Lhasa, where small restaurants are cubby-holed throughout the ancient Barkor district. A curtain hangs over their door, the air is thick with smoke pooling out of the kitchen, and Tibetan pop songs play through tinny speakers, while Tibetans congregate at a few dusty tables with benches to share tea or a steaming bowl of soup.

However, Chusum’s menu is more extensive than the average Lhasa Tea House, with a variety of delectable dishes like stir fried greens and mushrooms, ping (glass noodles) sautéed with green onions and bok choy, shogo khatsa (a signature Tibetan dish of potatoes and spices), mutton stir-fried with vegetables and dried chilies, all accompanied by a bowl of rice or tingmo—steamed Tibetan bread. Likewise, compared to the average Lhasa Tea House altogether devoid of a menu, Chusum’s picture menu offers the comfort of actually knowing what you’re ordering. The only exception is mystery dish #23, which remains nameless on the shiny, laminated menu.

Chusum has one more thing that you won’t find in the average Lhasa Tea House—a large photograph of Tibet’s exiled spiritual leader, the 14th Dalai Lama, proudly enshrined over the counter. Banned in Tibet, His Holiness’ image is rarely found in Lhasa, and its presence in McLeod Ganj and Dharamsala serves as a reminder of religious freedoms that Tibetans are denied in their homeland.

Chusum Restaurant (Tibetan: ཆོལ་གསུམ་ཟ་ཁང།), located on Jogiwara Rd. (near the main square), McLeod Ganj, Dharamsala, HP, India
Prices range from 40-200 Indian Rupees for dishes (USD $1-4)

“Peaceful Liberation” & the Potala Square

On Tuesday morning, 20,000 people gathered in the square in front of the Potala Palace, but not to protest.  They were celebrating the 60th Anniversary of the “Peaceful Liberation” of Tibet that took place when the 17-Point Agreement was signed in May, 1951. The stage was erected weeks in advance, much of Lhasa was under construction during the winter and spring, and government officials arrived on Sunday for one week of ceremonies and celebrations–the details of which were kept under wraps.

One thing was a given, that the Potala would serve as the backdrop.  The Chinese government loves using the Potala Palace as its flagship image for their Tibet propaganda. Completed in the late 1600s, the building sits thirteen stories high atop a hill overlooking Lhasa, holds over 1,000 rooms, exquisite temples, ancient scriptures, and remains of previous Dalai Lamas. No other buildings in the city rival the Potala’s height. It made the UNESCO World Heritage List in 1994, and the Chinese government has plastered the image of the palace on everything from tourism brochures to beer and barley wine bottles and cans ever since. Not only is the Potala Palace a representation of incredible architectural feats and traditional Tibetan design, to the Chinese government it represents the backbone of a feudal society whose serfs were “liberated” by Mao and the People’s Republic of China 60 years ago.

In the early 1900s, the city of Lhasa was largely undeveloped.

In 2005, the Chinese government cleared the area in front of the Dalai Lama’s winter residence to make way for the new square and the “Tibet Peaceful Liberation Monument” that lay in the center. May 23, 2006 marked 50 years since the signing of the 17-Point Agreement, and the abstract representation of Mt. Everest was unveiled.  In front of the monument, embedded under the concrete, are water fountains synchronized with lights and music, giving the square a Disney-esque look and feel for the tourists who visit each night in the summer. Except for this year.

The Potala Square as viewed from the Potala Palace, December 2010

Lhasa has been banned to foreign travelers since June, and an article published on Saturday by AFP noted that the government is now restricting the number of Chinese tourists to the region. The fact that the number of domestic Chinese tourists traveling to Tibet is restricted is a sure sign that the situation is dire. Lhasa is cut off from the rest of the world, showing that there is fear of potential unrest, and most likely an increased military and security presence in the city–which is not something the government wants foreigners to view.

A China Daily article recounted what the government wanted people to see–Tuesday’s event, which included a speech by Vice President Xi Jinping, who claimed that “speeding up development holds the key to resolving all issues in Tibet”. The article launched into accounts of government aide to Tibetans, noting that Xi’s delegation brought pressure cookers and solar-powered TV sets to villages in Tibet.  Praise was given for the increased number of cars in towns and cities in Tibet, as well as one man’s opportunity to work in a cement factory ten months out of the year, rather than toil at his previous occupation as a farmer.

What the article omitted were the harsh realities of Tibet’s political and cultural oppression, and the continued economic and societal marginalization of Tibetans, despite the government’s attempt to buy Tibetans’ loyalties. It left out the fact that nomadic communities are being forced off of their land to make way for mining operations that destroy the land and poison the waters that flow downstream to 47% of the world’s population; that nomads are forced to slaughter their animals and move into ghetto-style housing blocks, where rates of depression, alcoholism, and suicide are on the rise; that the grasslands are turning into deserts because there are no nomads grazing their animals, whose traditional practices aerate and fertilize the soil, keeping the grasslands healthy and mitigating the effects of climate change.

Apparently pots and pans and television sets are more important.

Read more:

www.NomadRights.org

Celebration marks peaceful liberation (China Daily)

Beijing curbs China tourism to Tibet: travel agents (AFP)

 

Read more at Students for a Free Tibet’s blog

Tourism in Tibet | Occupation is No Vacation

In November 2010, the St. Regis Lhasa Resort opened its doors to guests, boasting 200 luxury rooms, an on-site butler, a spa, numerous restaurants, and countless amenities. This would be considered luxurious in anyplace but in Tibet, a formally independent country occupied by China in 1949. Occupation is no vacation and tourist operators need to understand that business in Tibet is not business as usual.

Under Chinese occupation, Tibetans’ basic human rights are regularly violated, including their internationally recognized right to control their own land and resources. Since 1999, the Chinese government has pursued its “Western Development Plan,” encouraging large-scale migration of Chinese settlers into Tibet and extending business opportunities to foreign companies. This plan is intended to help China consolidate control over Tibet and attract foreign direct investment to finance its occupation.

The operation of the St. Regis Lhasa could exacerbate the abuses that Tibetans face unless immediate measures are taken to ensure business is conducted in compliance with their needs and interests.

Students for a Free Tibet has contacted the CEO of Starwood Hotels & Resorts Worldwide, Fritz van Paasschen, and the owners of  the St. Regis property with our concerns. We requested more information on the St. Regis Lhasa’s operation to determine if this luxury hotel could truly be part of the solution in empowering Tibetans in Tibet, rather than part of the problem in contributing to their further marginalization under Chinese rule.

Discrimination and intimidation tactics on the part of Chinese officials has made it increasingly difficult for Tibetan guides and tour operators to compete with Chinese businesses. In 2010, Dorje Tashi, a successful Tibetan hotelier, was sentenced to life imprisonment following a closed-door trial. Chinese authorities have yet to publicly release the details of his alleged crimes. No tourist operator should collaborate with the Chinese government in repressing the basic rights of Tibetans – or others – and Starwood’s executives need to think carefully about the implications operating in a conflict could have on their brand name and corporate reputation.

Economic development that brings an end to the decades of marginalization and repression suffered at the hands of the Chinese government and respects their right to control this development is welcomed by Tibetans. However, businesses that fail to both address the deep-seated inequalities Tibetans face under Chinese occupation and respect Tibetans’ political, cultural, and religious rights, will only intensify the injustices that Tibetans suffer. The Holiday Inn, British Petroleum, and KFC are amongst the corporations that have canceled their business plans or withdrawn from Tibet after facing intense public campaigns from Tibetan rights organizations.

We hope Starwood and the St. Regis owners’ will do the right thing.

Read More:

Tibetans Target Starwoods AGM Over New St. Regis in Lhasa

http://blog.studentsforafreetibet.org/2011/05/tibetans-target-starwoods-agm-over-new-st-regis-in-lhasa/

A Joint Open Letter to Investors of IHG from Free Tibet Campaign and Students for a Free Tibet:
http://www.freetibet.org/campaigns/letter

Tibetans and Tibet Supporters Target InterContinental Hotel Group (IHG)’s AGM

Read more about this effort led by Free Tibet Campaign:

http://freetibet.org/campaigns/no-intercontinental-tibet
http://www.freetibet.org/campaigns/occupation
http://www.freetibet.org/campaigns/resources
http://www.freetibet.org/campaigns/social-responsibility

No Foreigners Allowed…Again?

In March I wrote about how foreigners were banned from traveling to Lhasa, and it seems the authorities are denying entry permits to the Tibet Autonomous Region yet again.

Urban Sprawl in Lhasa

In March, the official (read: Chinese government) reason for the ban was the over-crowding of tourists and extreme weather.  These were blatant lies, as there were few tourists in Lhasa at the time—only domestic tourists were allowed permits—and the weather was sunny, occasionally cloudy and windy.  The real reason was the government does not want foreign tourists to view firsthand the current crackdown and the heightened military presence in March, due to fears of potential unrest on the anniversary of the Uprisings of 1959 and 2008

The Potala square in April, 2011, devoid of tourists.

In April, permits were re-issued, and fair-skinned foreign tourists toting heavy cameras began trickling in, trailing their tour guides around the city.  It had been one month since I had seen any foreigners save the few that I knew lived in Lhasa, and I stared and studied them with the same fascination as the Tibetans, not used to the sight of them.  A recent news article stated that areas of Sichuan, most likely Ngaba, were closed to tourists in April, following the self-immolation of a monk and the subsequent protests and crackdown in the region.

In May, another politically sensitive anniversary occurred on the 23rd—the 60th anniversary of the signing of the 17-Point Agreement, which China dubs the official day of Tibet’s “peaceful liberation.” (read the “17 Points of Disagreement”: 60 Years of China’s Failed Policies in Tibet)

It is now June, and the two anniversaries have passed, so why is Tibet yet again closed to foreign tourists? Documents cited the May 23rd anniversary, but it seems more likely that the ban is in response to the upcoming July 1st anniversary of the Communist Party’s founding.  Likewise, the recent protests in Inner Mongolia may also have something to do with it:

In May, Beijing told foreigners not to sow unrest in its vast northern region of Inner Mongolia, after rare protests by ethnic Mongolians sparked by the hit-and-run death of a herder garnered international attention.

Foreign Ministry spokeswoman Jiang Yu has said people overseas had an ‘ulterior motive’ and were trying to use the incident ‘to cause trouble’. (Reuters)

While blaming foreigners for unrest in Inner Mongolia is flattering, credit must be given where credit is due, and the people of Inner Mongolia, Tibet, and East Turkestan need to be recognized for their brave efforts.

The fact that Tibet is so frequently closed due to fears of potential unrest and heightened military crackdowns is absurd and horrifying.  March through October is the tourist high season, yet three out of the past four months saw bans on foreign tourists in numerous areas in Tibet. Tour guides who have no work in the winter must toil grueling hours in the high season, making most, if not all of their income in that half of the year. A ban on foreign tourists means that hundreds, potentially thousands of tour guides will be making next to nothing this year.

Right now, Lhasa is being built up into a tourist hot spot, with new luxury hotels like the St. Regis Lhasa Resort and the Intercontinental popping up, along with malls, movie theaters, department stores, and restaurants emerging and vying for tourist dollars.  The St. Regis Lhasa Resort opened its doors in November, boasting that they are offering training and employment opportunities for local Tibetans, but how can a hotel thrive when there are no tourists?  They have built it, but no one can come.

How can tourism successfully function in Tibet today? It cannot and it will not until Tibet is a free and independent nation, free of military oppression, economic marginalization, and religious and cultural repression.

China closes Tibet to foreigners until July 26 (AP)

UPDATE 1-China closes Tibet to foreigners ahead of anniversary (Reuters)

 China closes Tibet to foreigners until July 26 in apparent move to head off disturbances (AP/Washington Post)

Leaving Lhasa

I returned to Lhasa, intending to stay for six months, and immediately felt suffocated by the situation—the constant surveillance, the heavy military and police presence, the fact that Lhasa has more Han Chinese residents than Tibetan. In Lhasa, if you let yourself think about it at all, let alone too much, it consumes you like a disease, slowly and silently killing you from the inside out.  If you forget, ignore what’s going on, or force yourself to stop thinking about it, then you can function. When I left the city I let myself think about it for the first time—spending two months analyzing and dissecting the previous four—and when I returned, I just couldn’t ignore it anymore.

At first I couldn’t tell—had the city changed, or had I?  If one had asked my opinion of the place months prior, I would have professed my unparalleled love for Lhasa, my desire to live there for years and rent a tiny apartment in the heart of the Barkor, with an intention to persevere through the bureaucratic red tape for a new residence permit each year.  My opinion changed as soon as I returned to Lhasa.  Suddenly and unexpectedly, I no longer felt any inkling of desire to stay.

The heightened security, the emptiness of the streets, and feeling as though I were being followed and watched did not settle in well with me.  I sunk into a depression of sorts, not wanting to leave my room, and when I would,  I saw an ancient Tibetan city crushed under the heel of modernization and communist China’s policies.  Once the site of a unique civilization and a deeply religious society, Lhasa is now the home base of a cultural genocide quietly being imposed by seemingly benign policies and brute force.

Unlike most, I had the option to leave.  I weighed the pros and cons, thought about whether my staying was beneficial for me and for the community.  My time had been wasted away in my room—having not been allowed to leave the campus grounds for days—or in classes that were far too expensive for their worth, my money was being handed over to the Chinese government and indirectly funding a cultural genocide.

I had seen enough. I was tired of living in fear, in paranoia.  I was tired of not being able to trust anyone, of feeling like a criminal.  I was tired of playing the game, of pretending that I was okay with what was happening.  I was tired of wondering if my friends would disappear in the middle of the night, of watching them suffer in silence.  I was tired of walking by the military and police, of seeing snipers on the rooftops above me in crowded city centers.  I was tired of sitting by and watching while a language, culture, and religion were being swept off the earth, eroding ever so slowly and quietly and taking the people of Tibet down with it.

I have hope.  I love Lhasa and  the Tibetans that I had met and interacted with along the way.  I have faith that Tibet will be free some day, along with the drive and determination to do everything in my power to make that a reality.  I will return to Lhasa again someday, when Tibet is free.

Reality Check

Tibetans in Lhasa live under constant supervision, with hundreds, thousands of armed military and police serving as a constant reminder of China’s violent occupation of Tibet, the absence of free speech, freedom of movement, and freedom of religion in the region.