Published by World Tibet Network News - Friday, November 24, 1995
Beijing tries to outmaneuver the Dalai Lama over the boyhunt for a new Tibetan Spiritual Leader
November 27, 1995 Volume 146, No. 22
Anthony Spaeth Reported By Mia Turner/Beijing
IN THE TIBETAN SCHOOL OF BUDDHISM, it has never been easy to find the successor to a Panchen Lama, the second highest religious leader next to the Dalai Lama. The titles are supposedly spiritually bequeathed: when a Panchen or Dalai Lama dies, his followers scour the countryside in search of the infant in which their master's soul has been reborn. They look for children with odd characteristics or preternatural wisdom and are often armed with clues from the dying lama's dreams, like a description of the landscape in which the boy can be found.
That metaphysical boyhunt has become even more difficult because of some very down-to-earth political compulsions felt by communist China, which has forcefully governed Tibet for more than four decades. Six years ago, the 10th Panchen Lama died of a heart attack in the Tibetan town of Xigaze at the age of 50. He was a revered figure, the second holiest lama in the Gelugpa ("yellow hat") sect, after the former God-King of Tibet, the Dalai Lama. Unlike his celebrated superior--who fled Lhasa, the capital, in 1959 and lives in exile in India--he 10th Panchen Lama stayed and dealt with the Chinese government, becoming, in some ways, Tibet's regent. After his death, officials in Beijing saw the chance to exert control over his reincarnated successor, an opportunity they seized with alacrity. China organized a committee to make the search and spent more than $700,000 conducting it. A list was compiled of 28 candidates, later reduced by monks to three.
All seemed to be going smoothly until May, when the Dalai Lama announced from exile that he had chosen the proper boy from the short list, Gedhun Choekyi Nyima, 6, and "with great joy" proclaimed him the 11th Panchen Lama. That unilateral move made China furious. Within days the abbot who had headed the search committee disappeared, and 20 to 40 monks have reportedly been arrested. Beijing sources say the abbot has been detained in Sichuan province on suspicion that he funneled information about candidates to the Dalai Lama. China says he is merely undergoing medical treatment. In July the golden child and his parents disappeared from their village in eastern Tibet. Some Tibetans believe they are being held in Beijing, although the government denies any hand in the disappearance.
The plight of the Panchen Lama could, in fact, be a significant turning point in China's continuing subjugation of 6 million Tibetans. In the 1960s and '70s, Chinese Red Guards destroyed scores of monasteries and religious objects. More recently, Beijing has applied a softer touch, rebuilding Lhasa's Potala Palace, which was near collapse, and increasing the number of Tibetan-language schools. But now China sees the chance to manipulate a loftier realm: the aging Buddhist hierarchy, which provides a troublesome parallel leadership in China's most disgruntled province. The 10th Panchen Lama had a history of alternately cooperating and defying Beijing, earning him a 20-month jail term in 1964 and a mottled reputation among his own people. China wants to gain more control over his successor, which is why it led the search and insisted on the authority to name the chosen boy.
This role required some unusual ideological gymnastics for the Politburo. Bizarre enough was the spectacle of a communist government scouring the countryside in search of a reincarnated holy man. Even weirder was Beijing's legal argument. It exhumed a 1792 agreement between the Tibetan lamas and the Qing dynasty giving the emperor sole authority to name top lamas. That is very much the type of imperial decree, like the 1842 Treaty of Nanjing ceding Hong Kong to Britain, that Beijing has angrily renounced in the past. Such contradictions don't seem to trouble China's leaders, who see a larger issue at stake. "This is not so much a religious question as a question of sovereignty," says a Western academic in Beijing. Indeed, China's effort to name the new Panchen Lama may be a dress rehearsal for the day when the God-King himself dies and the search for the new Dalai Lama begins. One of the most important arbiters in that process will be the sitting Panchen Lama.
So for China there is much to be gained by naming the boy, and especially by influencing his education. Two weeks ago, President Jiang Zemin and other top leaders met with the search committee; newspaper headlines said they would reach a decision soon. But there's also a risk: now that the Dalai Lama has anointed Gedhun Choekyi Nyima, Tibetans are almost certain to reject any alternate chosen by Beijing. Even worse, if China puts a pretender on the throne, it could shatter the entire spiritual lineage system, which is crucial to a culture dominated by its religion. Tibetans are concerned about the choice of the Panchen Lama and his education. "If he is not taught properly by Tibetan monks, our culture will be destroyed," says a Tibetan in Beijing. As China may soon be reminded, politics and metaphysics can be a dangerous mix.