The Observer - London

2 July 1995

A Special Correspondent in Lhasa reports on the black despair that is slowly eroding Buddhist prayer and patience

THE MOMENT is suddenly lyrical as Lamrim Rimpoche adjusts a pair of thick glasses attached to a length of grubby string around his ears, and in a voice as sweet as crumpled rose leaves imparts wisdom to his young charges. Seated on a platform, the reincarnate lama and abbot of Drepung Monastery is reading Buddhist texts to 200 apprentice monks. In the courtyard outside, a juniper tree shades the stooped sage from the fierce Himalayan sun. The leaves dapple the wooden benches. Motes of dust dance in the light. In the evening cool, the cheerful monks will gather at the juniper to debate Lamrim's interpretation of the texts. But outside the monastery walls, the view is far from corn-forting. On Thursday there will be a bizarre game of cat-and-mouse between the authorities and the Dalai Lama's followers, when Tibetans mark his sixtieth birthday. The authorities have ordered senior abbots not to allow monks to leave the monastery on the day, and abbots have been ordered to enforce the ban on two prayers.

Words of Truth, written by the Dalai Lama, and Long Life praise Tibetans' courage and call for self-determination. 'They can ban whatever they like, but they will never know what I am praying for or what I am saying quietly to myself,' one young monk says. In a quiet yet gnawing protest, Lhasa's Tibetan people will stay away from workand join a big picnic on the eastern bank of the Lhasa River, with colourful prayer flags and traditional prayer wheels. 'Tibetans don't celebrate birthdays at all except in the case of the Dalai Lama, which Tibetans in Tibet want to celebrate,' says Tenzin Geyche, private secretary to the Dalai Lama, living god and spiritual leader of Tibet, who has been in exile in India since 1959.

Pilgrims are already arriving in Lhasa from the countryside to pay homage at the Nobel Laureate's former residence, the Potala Palace. They are exhausted after days of travelling on opentop trucks and rickety buses, but prostrate themselves in front of Buddhist statues and recite Words of Truth. But while Lhasa's Tibetan people hold their symbolic protest at the river, another reality is being played out in the main streets. Businessmen from Singapore and France are arriving to clinch deals, and younger Tibetans are learning survival under 'Chinese capitalism'. Discos, nightclubs, restaurants and clothes shops, all owned by young Tibetans, are sprouting up. For these budding entrepreneurs, the spirit of rebellion has given way to realism.

The hard fact is that the Chinese have been here for four decades, and show no signs of going. The Dalai Lama's birthday coincides with the run-up to the thirtieth anniversary of the founding of the Tibet Autonomous Region on 1 September 1965, the truncated Tibet ruled by quislings. In the past few weeks, the Chinese authorities have stepped up their oppression. 'Everyone is so nervous here, no one knows what the Chinese are going to do next,' a Lhasa shopkeeper says. 'They have completely destroyed the under-ground movement, all the nuns and monks are terrified.' The dreams of liberation have been crushed by the People's Liberation Army. Those who still talk of independence seem to be uttering words of a remote, dream-like quality.

According to human rights monitors, Peking's henchmen in Tibet have one of the world's most frightening records for abuse of tights. At least 110 monks and nuns have been rounded up this year. Nearly 100 monks and nuns have been detained last year for political crimes, offences which carry an average prison term of six years. Amnesty International says at least 628 political prisoners are behind bars in Tibet, compared with 400 in late 1993. A third are women, and 45 are children. Beatings, electric shocks, deprivation of food and drink, exposure to cold, handcuffing or shackling for long periods and denial of medical treatment are reported to- be common during interrogation, according to Amnesty. Twelve political prisoners have died from torture since 1987.

Religion, the channel of nationalist aspirations, bears the brunt of China's repression. Tibet has 1,680 monasteries and 40,000 monks and nuns; no new monasteries are to be built, nor further novices admitted. In 1959, when China seized control of Tibet; there were 2,700 monasteries and 115,600 monks, nuns and lamas. Officials from the Religious Bureau are threatening to close nunneries unless nuns agree to imposed limits on numbers, give written undertakings not to encourage independence activities, declare they do not support the Dalai Lama's government, and do not allow nuns who have completed prison terms to return to nunneries.

Trivialisation of the national faith is almost official policy -anything to make monks look earthly rather than spiritual. One of the saddest sights is at the Potala Palace, one of the holiest of all Tibetan structures. There the monks have been forced to abandon their resplendent maroon robes for brown coats with buttons and pockets, reminiscent of the British Ministry of Works circa 1950. For the young Tibetan, there is no hope or comfort in the life imposed by the Chinese, other than the distractions of kung-fu films and karaoke parlours. The official version is much different. China says Tibet has been part of its territory since the 13th century before it came under foreign influence and then 'feudal' rule. Since Tibet returned to Peking's sovereignty in the 1950s, according to this version, a backward, economically crippled region has made giant strides. According to Peking's figures, Tibet's gross domestic product grew by a record 8.6 per cent in 1994 - compared with 11.8 per cent in China - up from 8

.1 per cent in 1993.

Peking says that it has spent 35 billion yuan (#2.8bn) in Tibet in the past 42 years, and plan to funnel more than 7bn yuan in financial aid before the end of the century. Including subsidies and investment, China plans to spend an extra 5,000 yuan for each of the 2.23 million people living in Tibet by 2000. Last year, Chinese President Jiang Zemin approved 2.38bn yuan in long-term investment in 62 Stalinist-type projects -dams, power stations, bridges, roads and two Communist Party buildings - the largest infusion of state aid in Tibet. Away from the riverside picnics and the stilled reverence of the monasteries and former palaces, business deals are being done. Chinese investors have opened at least 15 two star hotels in Lhasa in the past 12 months; a five-star hotel complex is being built on an island in the Lhasa River; and a Chinese-Macau joint venture plans to open a casino in Lhasa. The authorities are using Tibet's tourist boom - revenue soared by 23 per cent last year - to woo Asian businessmen. But

Tibetans say they are excluded from the boom as many of the contracts are going to companies owned by the People's Liberation Army or the People's Armed Police, the militia. These are the real sources of power in the Tibet Autonomous Region: a permanent garrison of an estimated 65,000 men.

Some adventurous Tibetans have met the challenge by opening travel agencies that cater for the growing number of Western visitors in the region. Others complain of difficulties obtaining approval to open businesses because they lack vital guangxi (connections) with Chinese officials. No guangxi, no deals. Race relations between the Han (ethnic Chinese) and Tibetans have long been troubled and the arrival of Chinese entrepreneurs - taking advantage of the less competitive market in Tibet - has inflamed China says 94 per cent of the population is ethnic Tibetan, but independence groups estimate that the influence of Chinese colonisation is such that the true figure is about 50 per cent.

The influx of Han has become so institutionalised that new migrants arriving at Lhasa airport are greeted by rows of Chinese children chanting: 'Welcome! Warmly welcome! Cadres from the interior! Come to build the frontier!' Worried that Tibetans can no longer be trusted, China is recruiting party cadres and re tired military staff and sending them to Tibet. By the 1 September anniversary, every mayor, political commissar and Communist Party secretary will be Chinese, sources in Lhasa say. 'They don't even trust their stooges these days.'

In this beautiful yet ravaged country, a state of psychic sick-ness can be felt among a people everything except that which the Chinese cannot take: their dreams and prayers. Among young Tibetans, who have grown knowing nothing except Chinese rule the black despair palpable and many are tempted by violence. In the past four years, there has been a marked increase in murder and armed robbery by Tibetans. Sources in Lhasa blame the harsher society on the destruction of hundreds of homes in the centre of the city, which has fragmented the traditional community links, and the cut throat competition for jobs. Tibetan society has changed more in the past three years of rapid economic structuring and modernisation than in the past previous 15.

Last March, the Dalai Lama gave a warning of a violent revolt up against Chinese rule unless Peking agreed to talks on greater autonomy. But violence is not an option for the Tibetans. They are Buddhist; but they know the Chinese military is ruthless. The Dalai Lama seems realistic about what possibilities there are for the Tibetan cause in this reincarnation, by scaling down demands and suggesting an autonomous region, with China responsible for its foreign and defence policy. 'In my efforts to seek a negotiated solution to our problem, I have refrained from asking for the complete independence of Tibet,' he told the German parliament last month.

Tsering Shakya, a Tibetan historian in London, says: 'Everything depends on what is going to happen in China and whether the situation remains stable or not. If a more liberal regime is established in China, then there will be some scope for change in Tibet. But at the moment that is very difficult to envisage' In terms of strategy, the Tibetans must build on two fronts. They have huge sympathy all around the world, but few political allies - none strong enough, or resolute enough, to take on China. They have to promote their cause in the court of world opinion.

But they must also become a thorn in Peking's side, ensuring that China pays the price for occupying Tibet in terms of the cost of the garrison, the subsidising of Chinese settlers, and the damage to international prestige. To a Western-educated realist, that road seems so terribly long that no modern measure of time could say when Tibetans will be able to determine their own lives.

Even for Tibetans, there seem to be limits to Buddhist patience, and the visitor is left wondering when Chinese brutality will cause a gut revolt, a mad uprising and a bloodbath to equal that in Tiananmen Square six years ago. 'We will wait for our moment, you'll see,' says a woman stall-holder in the Barkor, the Tibetan heart of Lhasa. 'As soon as we can, we'll regroup, demonstrate and drive the Chinese out.' Shakya says that any uprising would result in slaughter. 'China has said that if Tibet demands independence it will use force to stop it. It doesn't matter if it is a liberal or hardline regime in Peking, the Chinese will use force to crush any move for Tibetan independence.'

Forty-six years of repression 1949 Chinese troops invade and overrun eastern Tibet.

1950 Invasion of Tibetan heart-land. Over 20 years 1.2 million Tibetans - one fifth of the population-will die by starvation, execution, imprisonment or torture, says the Dalai Lama.

1951 Peking treaty promises Tibetans religious freedom.

1956 Eastern Tibetan uprising.

1959 Lhasa uprising tails; Dalai Lama flees to India with 80,000 exiles.

1965 'Tibet Autonomous Region' declared.

1966 Cultural Revolution starts. Thousands of monasteries and nunneries are burned.

1969 Uprising led by nun, Thrinley Choedron, crushed by Chinese army.

1979 Tibet's most sacred temple, the Jokhang, reopens. During the Cultural Revolution it had been used as a pigsty. Contacts begin with Dalai Lama.

1980 Chinese promise economic and religious liberalisation.

1983 Tibet opened to tourists. 1984 Chinese break off negotiations with Dalai Lama.

1987 Monks and nuns stage demonstrations calling for independence. Up to 250 shot dead.

1989 Martial law is declared in Lhasa, and the country closed to foreigners. Martial law rescinded in May 1990.

1992 Tibet calls for foreign investment and modernisation.

1993 Dalai Lama restarts negotiations with Peking. A month later the Chinese change policy and break off all contacts.

1995 Discovery of reincarnation of Panchen Lama, announced by Dalai Lama, causes major rift with Chinese.