World Tibet Network News Thursday, April 16, 1998

Montreal Gazette, Monday, April 13, 1998, Editorial / Op-Ed

Fading vision: Words fail Dalai Lama in face of new Tibetan militancy

MARK ABLEY

China doesn't know how lucky it's been. For years it has vilified supporters of Tibetan independence as the ``Dalai clique'' - a typically ham-fisted attack on the political and spiritual leader of Tibet's 6 million people. As befits a winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, the Dalai Lama has always sought reconciliation. But as news from India suggests, his approach may be losing ground.

On March 10, six Tibetans embarked on a fast-unto-death in a park near the centre of New Delhi. The fast has been organized by the Tibetan Youth Congress - a misnomer, perhaps, in that four of the hunger strikers are over 50. They are demanding that, for the first time since the 1960s, the United Nations put Tibet on its agenda.

This is a gesture of desperation. It arises from a widespread fear that, for Tibetans, time is running out. Almost 40 years have elapsed since China's so-called People's Liberation Army crushed a Tibetan uprising. After centuries of de facto independence, Tibetans bitterly resented the invasion and occupation of their homeland by foreign Communists. The Dalai Lama and 100,000 of his people took refuge in India.

At first they enjoyed broad international support. The UN General Assembly passed three resolutions between 1959 and 1965 deploring Chinese actions in Tibet. The International Commission of Jurists spoke of ``ruthless suppression of man's essential dignity'' and even ``genocide'' - a strong word, but justified in light of the devastation of Tibet's people and culture. Many governments shed crocodile tears; few gave actual help.

Beijing Became Respectable

Then, in the late 1960s and early 1970s, Beijing became respectable. (At the height of the Cultural Revolution, Maoism was even glamorous.) Canada, the United States and most other countries recognized the Communist regime: a logical step, but one with harsh side-effects for the suffering people of Tibet. It meant that their nation effectively dropped off the map.

The five men and one women who have, for the past month, refused all food except lime juice and water want the UN to remember. They are asking for the General Assembly to resume debate about Tibet; for a UN rapporteur to investigate the condition of human rights inside Tibet; for the UN to sponsor a plebiscite asking its people what they really want; and for a special envoy to negotiate a settlement between Tibet's government-in-exile and the authorities in Beijing.

All these conditions are unacceptable, even offensive, to China. Beijing's rulers insist that Tibet is an integral part of the great motherland, just as Hitler once said of the Sudeten region in Czechoslovakia and Stalin of the Baltic states. There is nothing new in China's scorn. What's different, and remarkable, is how this hunger strike undercuts the Dalai Lama and his exiled government.

Ever since his trek across the Himalayas to freedom in 1959, the Dalai Lama has spoken with extraordinary clarity. His words have become a beacon, not only to Tibetans and fellow Buddhists around the world, but to people of all faiths who cherish his lucidity and wisdom. Yet now, in the midst of the New Delhi fast, the Dalai Lama is at a loss for words.

He visited the hunger strikers on April 2. The trip was unannounced; it was also unwanted. The Tibetan Youth Congress, knowing that the Dalai Lama had previously opposed hunger strikes as an act of self-violence, asked him to stay away.

After his visit, the Dalai Lama spoke. The words that follow were translated from Tibetan into English, and no doubt the translation could have been more elegant. But the painful confusion in the Tibetan leader's response is not just a matter of language:

``I told them their determination, their motivation is very

sincere, and should not develop some kind of negativism or fear -

their goal which I myself see as important, however if I stop them -

on the other hand, no alternative to offer them.

``China proper has some development, many encouraging developments

there. But in Tibet itself, the over-all situation is becoming worse

and worse. My middle-way approach, my side is always open but no

response, so, very difficult, I myself am also in a state of

dilemma. What to do?''

The ``middle way'' is what the Dalai Lama has been promoting for the past decade. Convinced of the futility of violent struggle, he has repeatedly offered China a compromise, a way forward. In return for a guarantee of true autonomy, of genuine self-rule, Tibet would relinquish its quest for independence. It would accept Beijing's control over defence and foreign affairs.

Proof of Weakness

For many exiles, notably the leaders of the Tibetan Youth Congress, the ``middle way'' is a dead end. They have quietly fumed at the Dalai Lama's abandonment of Tibetan sovereignty. As Chinese settlers and military forces continue to flood into their country, some Tibetans see his desire to compromise as proof of weakness. Some are willing to contemplate violence as a means of answering - or, at least, of drawing attention to - China's unending suppression of Tibet.

Such is the Dalai Lama's worldwide prestige that their dissent and anger have rarely spilled over into public conflict. Until now, that is. The hunger strike in New Delhi signals not only a growing militancy among exiled Tibetans, but also a new readiness to defy the expressed wishes of the Dalai Lama.

For the moment, only six Tibetans have vowed to fast until death. But hundreds of others have made shorter fasts in solidarity. ``I don't know what to do,'' the Dalai Lama admitted after visiting the six. ``This is like a symbol of the Tibetan cultural and spiritual heritage, dying in front of the civilized world. Very sad, so sad, but how to protect?''

And this man - one of the few great and authentic heroes of our time - had absolutely no answer.