Man in the News * The Dalai Lama

Tony Walker on the Tibetan spiritual leader's relations with China

Financial Times - London, March 29/march 30 1997

The Dalai Lama found himself on unfamiliar terrain this week on his first visit to Taiwan. But Beijing's reaction across the Taiwan strait would not have surprised him.

For months, China has been rumbling about the "perfidious" intentions of the Tibetan spiritual leader and his Taiwanese hosts both of whom are "splittists" in Beijing-speak.

"The Dalai Lama has for a long time engaged around the world in activities to split the motherland," said a foreign ministry spokesman.

In Taipei, capital of what Beijing regards as the renegade province of Taiwan, the Dalai Lama was mild, reiterating his belief in a "middle way" between independence and heavy-handed Chinese rule.

"I believe very much in the spirit of 'one country, two systems'," said the 61 year-old Dalai Lama, who describes himself as a "simple monk".

Beijing, which has been obliged to deal with the Tibetan "God-king's" subtle crusade for more than three decades, would almost certainly balk at such a description, regarding him as anything but simple.

Indeed, China - perhaps feeling less constrained after Mr Al Gore, the US vice-president, completed his visit and left the country yesterday - sharpened its criticism of the Dalai Lama's Taiwan visit. It accused him and his hosts of harbouring "evil intentions".

"The Dalai Lama's visit is against the background of increasingly rampant splittism on the island," said an official commentary. "The Taiwan authorities have taken an extremely dangerous step on the road of separating the country and the splittist forces on the island have already collaborated with the Tibet independence forces."

In the years since the Dalai Lama fled Tibet in 1959 at 24 after a failed uprising against Chinese rule, he has proved an effective salesman for his people charming world leaders, the Hollywood I establishment and thousands of converts to Buddhism in the west.

All this is a long way from humble origins in eastern Tibet, where he was recognised in 1937 at the age of two as a reincarnation of the 13th Dalai Lama, who had died a few years earlier. At five, he was installed as Tibet's spiritual ruler and in 1950, at 15, was made secular leader - the same year Chinese troops moved into Tibet in force.

Since he took refuge in India, he has garnered scores of honours, including the Nobel Peace prize in 1989.

But after so many years in the wilderness, what does he have to show for his efforts? Is he any closer to realising his dream of going home? Like others-with a weak hand he must appear optimistic always, to buoy doubting followers with promises of success. Like Mr Yassir Arafat, president of the Palestine Authority, he cannot afford to waver publicly, however hopeless his task may seem.

The Dalai Lama makes frequent reference to the collapse of the Soviet Union and dramatic changes in South Africa to bolster his argument that history will deliver. "And so it will be in our case," he says. "We have had our own dark period for 40 years, but for us, too, things will surely change."

Tibetan exiles might believe that the death last month of Deng Xiaoping China's paramount leader would improve prospects for breakthrough - but there is no indication the post Deng leadership will be any more accommodating.

In fact, Deng spawned hopes of reconciliation in 1979 when he said all issues could be placed on the table, except Tibetan independence - which is not one of the Dalai Lama's demands. Those remarks prompted faltering discussions between Beijing and Tibetan exiles which petered out after the fall in 1987 of Hu Yaobang, the liberalising Chinese leader who showed sympathy for Tibetan aspirations.

China's new leaders, seeking to strengthen their grip on power, have evinced no such sympathy. In fact, recent nationalist disturbances in far west Xinjiang and in Tibet itself appear likely to harden resolve for the time being. These are not auspicious moments for a resumption of dialogue.

The Dalai Lama's renewed call for a resolution that would give Tibet status similar to Hong Kong has not attracted Beijing's enthusiasm: on the contrary, a Chinese official accused him of moving "against the tide of history".

China's wariness about the Dalai Lama's proposal for greater autonomy derives from suspicion that his proposal represents a "disguised form of independence". In Chinese eyes such a step would run counter to the Hong Kong formula, which anticipates the integration into the mainland of the Special Administrative Region of Hong Kong after a 50-year transitional phase.

Beijing has long regarded the Dalai Lama's calls for increased autonomy as the "thin edge of the wedge" hence its reluctance to pursue discussions about increased freedoms, including his return home in a "non-political role". Tibet is designated an "autonomous region" under Beijing's control, but in practice has no more autonomy than a province,' and in some ways less.

China's determination to counter the Dalai Lama's influence in Tibet was exemplified in 1995, when it rejected his nomination for a replacement Panchen Lama - the second most important figure in Tibetan Buddhism. The Dalai Lama's nominee "disappeared", and a Beijing approved substitute was selected.

But the Dalai Lama, who steadfastly advocates non violence, cannot be sanguine about time being on his side, in spite of remarks to the contrary. Younger nationalistic Tibetans are chafing at his strictures.

A bombing in Lhasa, the Tibetan capital, on Christmas day is a sign of these frustrations bubbling over. Tibetan nationalists, at the Dalai Lama's urging, have rejected violence, but with out results he may not be able to hold the line.

Tibet's spiritual leader must also reckon with demo graphics - the spread of Chinese influence in a region which was virtually closed to the outside world until this century.

Beijing says 2.2m Tibetans live in Tibet and the Chinese population is less than 100,000, but the Dalai Lama believes numbers are much larger, with a continuing influx of Chinese "entrepreneurs". He claims that of 13,000 shopkeepers in Lhasa only 300 are Tibetans, and businesses in other cities and towns are similarly dominated by ethnic Chinese.

But in keeping with his attempts to refrain from a slanging duel with Beijing, the Dalai Lama continues to show restraint. "The Tibetan problem is neither good for Tibet nor for China,"" he said this week. "We must find a mutual solution." Beijing, however, appears not to be listening.