Published by World Tibet Network News - Thursday - December 21, 1995
Dr. John Powers, Senior Lecturer, The Australian National University
Canberra Times
20 December 1995 - From: John.Powers@anu.edu.au (John Powers)
China's leaders have an image problem. As members of the Communist Party,
they are officially committed to atheism and to Karl Marx's doctrine that
religion is the "opiate of the masses," a false superstition that will
eventually be eradicated in the communist society of the future.
On the other hand, they also want to convince the world that they promote
religious freedom. The tension between these two stances is nowhere more
evident than in Tibet, a remote plateau with a deeply religious populace,
many of whom feel that the Chinese government is working to eradicate their
ancient religious traditions. The conflict between the communist rulers of
Tibet and its Buddhist inhabitants has reached a particularly critical
phase in recent months, with the focal point being the search for the
reincarnation of the Panchen Lama, the second most prominent religious
leader of Tibetan Buddhism.
Tibetan Buddhists believe that great religious teachers choose to be reborn
in the world in order to help others attain enlightenment. Such
reincarnations are called "tulkus." The two most prominent are the Dalai
Lama and the Panchen Lama, who historically are closely connected. The
Dalai Lama currently lives in India, where he fled after China invaded
Tibet in 1959.
In the seventeenth century, the fifth Dalai Lama gave the title "Panchen
Lama" to his teacher, Losang Choekyi Gyeltsen, the abbot of Tashi Lhunpo
monastery, and declared that he would be reborn as a recognisable
child-successor. From that time until the present day, the Dalai Lamas have
traditionally recognised the Panchen Lamas, and the Panchen Lamas in turn
figure prominently in the search for the Dalai Lamas.
When the tenth Panchen Lama died in 1989, officials of the People's
Republic of China (PRC) ordered that a search committee be formed to
identify his successor. For several years, prominent monks searched for his
reincarnation. In October of 1994, a group of senior monastic officials
conducted religious ceremonies on Shugtri Ridge, above the sacred lake
Lhamo Latso, which is renowned for producing visions of the locations of
tulkus. After several days of waiting, they saw a rainbow that led them to
the house of Gendun Choekyi Nyima, the six year old son of semi-nomadic
parents. At this point, abbot of Tashi Lhunpo, the Panchen's monastery,
secretly sent the Dalai Lama the names of several leading candidates.
The Dalai Lama then performed a divination in which he rolled slips of
paper with the candidates' names into balls of dough, and then held each
ball in his hands while pronouncing the child's name. He reported that "the
dough ball [containing the name of Gendun Choekyi Nyima] emerged as if
jumping out on its own." He next consulted the Nechung Oracle (which
inhabits the body of a human host and delivers often cryptic prophecies),
who informed the Dalai Lama that he had correctly identified the
reincarnation.
In his official announcement on the recognition of the new Panchen Lama,
the Dalai Lama stated that his decision was "purely a religious matter,"
and he called on the PRC government to "extend its understanding,
cooperation, and assistance." It was a master stroke on the part of the
Dalai Lama, and it took Chinese officials completely by surprise. The PRC
government had apparently been waiting to make its own announcement in
September, the thirtieth anniversary of the formation of its puppet state
in Tibet (called the "Tibet Autonomous Region").
The PRC soon responded by launching a vigorous campaign of verbal attacks
on the Dalai Lama and his motivations. On 17 May, the PRC's Xinhua news
agency carried an interview with an official of the State Council's Bureau
of Religious Affairs denouncing the Dalai Lama's choice as "illegal and
invalid." Subsequent statements by high-ranking Chinese officials have
echoed this sentiment and accused the Dalai Lama of usurping the authority
of the Central Government of China, which they contend is the sole
legitimate arbiter in the selection of tulkus.
Fearing a public outcry over their attempt to expropriate the traditional
authority of the Dalai Lama, PRC leaders quickly moved to prevent opposition.
Gendun Choekyi Nyima, along with his family, disappeared shortly after the
public denunciations of the Dalai Lama's choice appeared in Chinese
newspapers, and they are believed to be under military guard in Beijing
while their eventual fate is being decided.
China's leaders have also launched a propaganda campaign which claims that
Chinese government officials have overseen the selection of tulkus for over
200 years, a claim that is historically baseless. While Chinese
representatives have often visited Tibet for enthronement ceremonies and
passed on the good wishes of emperors or other heads of state, there is no
historical evidence that a Chinese official has ever had any direct role in
the selection process, nor have any been more than observers.
The present situation is roughly comparable to the Australian government
sending a representative to the Vatican for the investiture of a Pope and
later claiming to have sole authority to choose his successor.
PRC sources claim that in 1793 the Chinese emperor Qianlong sent a golden
urn to Tibet, along with instructions that the Dalai Lama should be chosen
by a lottery system in which names of candidates would be placed in the
urn, and one child's name would be selected. Historical records show that
the emperor's urn was ignored, and the selection of the next Dalai Lama
proceeded in the traditional way.
Since that time, only two Panchen Lamas have been chosen by lottery, and
neither the last Panchen Lama nor the current Dalai Lama were selected by
this method. In no case has a Chinese official ever been involved.
Despite internal and external opposition, the PRC leadership quickly moved
to choose an alternate Panchen Lama. In early November, high-ranking
Buddhist leaders were ordered to travel to Beijing to participate in
selecting another Panchen Lama. When they arrived, they were placed under
heavy guard at the military-owned Jingxi Guesthouse. To underscore the
importance of the proceedings, five of the seven members of the ruling
Politburo attended, including Party Secretary Jiang Zemin.
After several days, the PRC leadership declared that another Panchen Lama
had been selected, a young boy named Gyeltsen Norbu, who is the son of
Communist Party officials. This violates China's own stated policies,
outlined in a directive several years ago, in which Tibetan cadres were
instructed not to allow their children to be selected as tulkus. Moreover,
in order to enter the Party, cadres must demonstrate a strong commitment to
atheism.
After the announcement was made, a rushed investiture was arranged. During
the ceremony, broadcast on Chinese television, the young Gyeltsen Norbu
looked distinctly nervous, a justifiable reaction under the circumstances.
Given the extraordinary importance attached to the ceremony by Chinese
leaders, he may have suspected that his life is about to become more
difficult than he ever could have imagined, as he becomes a pawn in the
conflict between the Chinese government and the Tibetan government in exile
for the hearts of the Tibetan people.
Several commentators have recently wondered aloud why China is so concerned
with this particular tulku selection process. The PRC government has
invested 6,000,000 yuan (A$1,000,000) in financing the search, and senior
government officials have taken a leading role in denouncing the Dalai Lama
and in asserting the Central Government's sole authority in selecting
reincarnations. The idea of atheists choosing a tulku when they do not
believe in the validity of reincarnation is of course ludicrous, and the
pressure exerted on religious leaders by senior PRC officials has
demonstrated the hollowness of Chinese claims that the government is
promoting religious freedom in Tibet.
The PRC has also been subjected to humiliating condemnations from other
governments around the world, including a unanimous resolution passed in
the US Senate and another in the European Parliament. At a time when China
is concerned with improving economic and political ties with other
countries, one may well wonder why it has chosen a course of action
guaranteed to diminish its international reputation.
The reasons lie in the long-term view taken by China's leaders. Since the
invasion in the 1950s, Tibet has been restive under Chinese occupation, and
it has periodically erupted in anti-Chinese demonstrations. The Dalai Lama
has travelled the world, successfully winning converts to his cause, much
to the chagrin of the PRC leadership. But the central government clearly
looks forward to his demise, and as he is now in his sixties he will be
nearing the end of his life as the new Panchen Lama reaches maturity.
If China is able to control him, the Panchen Lama's traditional role in
selecting the Dalai Lama could leave China with compliant tulkus in the two
top positions, which would help immeasurably in solidifying its control
over Tibet. Because of Tibet's vast natural resources and its strategic
importance as the high ground separating China from India, China's leaders
are determined to hold onto it at any cost.
Recent statements from Chinese authorities have also indicated that public
reaction to their selection may influence the future of Tibetan Buddhism.
In a thinly-veiled threat to Tibetans opposed to their decision, the New
China News Agency in December carried a statement that warned, "Any legal
religion must firstly demand that its believers be patriotic." The article
went on to state that religion should always be dedicated to the service of
the state and that a faith whose believers are unpatriotic or disloyal
should be banned.
With memories of past repression of religion under Chinese rule still fresh
in the minds of most Tibetans, such warnings sound an ominous note, which
was undoubtedly intended. The stakes are enormously high for the Tibetans,
as the exile government clearly realises: They have already lost their
country, and their homeland is being flooded by Han Chinese, who are
remaking the country in the image of modern China. Caught in the middle are
two six year old boys, who are probably wondering how they came to be pawns
in this struggle.