Western Views on Tibet
Thursday, 5 June 2008, 11:14 a.m.
By Laurence Brahm
In Chinese, the word “crisis”, weiji, is made up of two characters: wei (meaning
“danger”) and ji (meaning “opportunity”). So, in each crisis, one
simultaneously faces both danger and opportunity. China faces a crisis
over Tibet; its fundamental policies towards this region and its people
are being called into question. This has also accentuated the sharp
juxtaposition between Chinese pragmatic, dialectic materialism and
Tibetan idealistic, abstract spirituality. While these two opposite
world views may clash, there is no reason for them to be in conflict.
Actually, both are needed.
The Tibetan crisis has brought both danger and opportunity. As
with all things in China, one extreme must give way to another before a
“middle” way can be reached. For all its hypergrowth, China now faces
its worst crises since the commencement of its reforms: open and
violent ethnic conflict; deadly children’s epidemics; Olympic protests;
and the worst earthquake in a generation. What may be next?
Meanwhile, the Dalai Lama is sitting in Dharamsala waiting for
China to signal a breakthrough. That is precisely what China needs at
this time – the world’s most prominent morally persuasive leader, the
Dalai Lama, to give it a spiritual lift in this sensitive and difficult
Olympic year.
Breaking the ice, Beijing did invite the Dalai Lama to send a
personal envoy for talks and, on May 4, his envoys, Lodi Gyari and
Kelsang Gyaltsen, met two Chinese vice-ministers in Shenzhen. Both
sides agreed to disagree on many circumstances and events. But it is
better to disagree than not talk at all. Then, on May 9, Lodi Gyari
gave a press conference in Dharamsala, outlining some ideas: open Tibet
to journalists and tourists to restore economic normality, and stop
criticising, moreover demonising, the Dalai Lama. From this we can see
an emerging road map of what needs to be done by both sides. If Beijing
can loosen its tight security grip over the Tibetan regions, people
will feel more relaxed, tourism will revive business fortunes, and
income will return.
Moreover, if it can stop criticising the Dalai Lama as part of
its “patriotic education”, China can begin winning the hearts and minds
of Tibetans. In turn, if the Dalai Lama can use his influence to tone
down global protests before the Beijing Olympics, he will be giving the
Chinese government the support it so badly craves.
Surprisingly, on May 22, foreign journalists reiterated the
Dalai Lama’s recent statement in London that he would be willing to
attend the Olympic opening ceremony in Beijing if China issued an
invitation.
A Foreign Ministry spokesman responded: “If the Dalai Lama
wants to do something meaningful for the motherland and the Olympics,
then he must take practical action.” That was followed by a list of
rhetorical, separatist accusations. Regardless, this was still quite a
new tone.
The Sichuan earthquake struck a region that is home to many
ethnic groups, notably Han and Tibetans. It is a propitious time for
the Dalai Lama to once again publicly offer prayers to all.
While he has already prayed for those killed and left
devastated by the quake, his message of compassion was not heard by
Beijing. If the meaning of his sincerity was understood in Beijing,
that might change the atmosphere.
If China can respond with even a cordial meeting between
President Hu Jintao and the Dalai Lama, this would give China more face
than any gold medals its athletes could win, while giving hope to
Tibetans and the world. It would change history.
The entire environment would improve, paving the way for a more
grounded policy rethink. Yes, Tibet needs the economic means that China
can provide – specifically education, medical facilities and equal
opportunities.
China, in turn, needs what its own policies of material
hypergrowth have failed to deliver – spirituality and a new-age
national ideology. The Olympics can stir nationalism, but it cannot
deliver either of those.
(This article is
reproduced from South China Morning Post. The writer is a political
economist, author, filmmaker and founder of Shambhala. The views
expressed in this piece are those of the writer, not necessarily those
of the Central Tibetan Administration)




