Friendly
Feudalism:
The Tibet Myth
Global Research, November 18, 2007
Michael Parenti Politcal Archive -
2007-01-02
Expanded and Updated Version
I.
For Lords and Lamas
Along with
the blood drenched landscape of religious conflict there is the
experience of inner peace and solace that every religion promises,
none more so than Buddhism. Standing in marked contrast to the
intolerant savagery of other religions, Buddhism is neither
fanatical nor dogmatic--so say its adherents. For many of them
Buddhism is less a theology and more a meditative and investigative
discipline intended to promote an inner harmony and enlightenment
while directing us to a path of right living. Generally, the
spiritual focus is not only on oneself but on the welfare of others.
One tries to put aside egoistic pursuits and gain a deeper
understanding of one’s connection to all people and things.
“Socially engaged Buddhism” tries to blend individual liberation
with responsible social action in order to build an enlightened
society.
A glance at
history, however, reveals that not all the many and widely varying
forms of Buddhism have been free of doctrinal fanaticism, nor free
of the violent and exploitative pursuits so characteristic of other
religions. In Sri Lanka there is a legendary and almost sacred
recorded history about the triumphant battles waged by Buddhist
kings of yore. During the twentieth century, Buddhists clashed
violently with each other and with non-Buddhists in Thailand, Burma,
Korea, Japan, India, and elsewhere. In Sri Lanka, armed battles
between Buddhist Sinhalese and Hindu Tamils have taken many lives on
both sides. In 1998 the U.S. State Department listed thirty of the
world’s most violent and dangerous extremist groups. Over half of
them were religious, specifically Muslim, Jewish, and Buddhist.
1
In South
Korea, in 1998, thousands of monks of the Chogye Buddhist order
fought each other with fists, rocks, fire-bombs, and clubs, in
pitched battles that went on for weeks. They were vying for control
of the order, the largest in South Korea, with its annual budget of
$9.2 million, its millions of dollars worth of property, and the
privilege of appointing 1,700 monks to various offices. The brawls
damaged the main Buddhist sanctuaries and left dozens of monks
injured, some seriously. The Korean public appeared to disdain both
factions, feeling that no matter what side took control, “it would
use worshippers’ donations for luxurious houses and expensive cars.”
2
As with any
religion, squabbles between or within Buddhist sects are often
fueled by the material corruption and personal deficiencies of the
leadership. For example, in Nagano, Japan, at Zenkoji, the
prestigious complex of temples that has hosted Buddhist sects for
more than 1,400 years, “a nasty battle” arose between Komatsu the
chief priest and the Tacchu, a group of temples nominally under the
chief priest's sway. The Tacchu monks accused Komatsu of selling
writings and drawings under the temple's name for his own gain. They
also were appalled by the frequency with which he was seen in the
company of women. Komatsu in turn sought to isolate and punish monks
who were critical of his leadership. The conflict lasted some five
years and made it into the courts.
3
But what of
Tibetan Buddhism? Is it not an exception to this sort of
strife? And what of the society it helped to create? Many Buddhists
maintain that, before the Chinese crackdown in 1959, old Tibet was a
spiritually oriented kingdom free from the egotistical lifestyles,
empty materialism, and corrupting vices that beset modern
industrialized society. Western news media, travel books, novels,
and Hollywood films have portrayed the Tibetan theocracy as a
veritable Shangri-La. The Dalai Lama himself stated that “the
pervasive influence of Buddhism” in Tibet, “amid the wide open
spaces of an unspoiled environment resulted in a society dedicated
to peace and harmony. We enjoyed freedom and contentment.”
4
A reading of
Tibet’s history suggests a somewhat different picture. “Religious
conflict was commonplace in old Tibet,” writes one western Buddhist
practitioner. “History belies the Shangri-La image of Tibetan lamas
and their followers living together in mutual tolerance and
nonviolent goodwill. Indeed, the situation was quite different. Old
Tibet was much more like Europe during the religious wars of the
Counterreformation.”
5
In the thirteenth century, Emperor Kublai Khan created the first
Grand Lama, who was to preside over all the other lamas as might a
pope over his bishops. Several centuries later, the Emperor of China
sent an army into Tibet to support the Grand Lama, an ambitious
25-year-old man, who then gave himself the title of Dalai (Ocean)
Lama, ruler of all Tibet. Here is a historical irony: the first
Dalai Lama was installed by a Chinese army.
His two
previous lama “incarnations” were then retroactively recognized as
his predecessors, thereby transforming the 1st Dalai Lama into the
3rd Dalai Lama. This 1st (or 3rd) Dalai Lama seized monasteries that
did not belong to his sect, and is believed to have destroyed
Buddhist writings that conflicted with his claim to divinity. The
Dalai Lama who succeeded him pursued a sybaritic life, enjoying many
mistresses, partying with friends, and acting in other ways deemed
unfitting for an incarnate deity. For these transgressions he was
murdered by his priests. Within 170 years, despite their recognized
divine status, five Dalai Lamas were killed by their high priests or
other courtiers.
6
For hundreds
of years competing Tibetan Buddhist sects engaged in bitterly
violent clashes and summary executions. In 1660, the 5th Dalai Lama
was faced with a rebellion in Tsang province, the stronghold of the
rival Kagyu sect with its high lama known as the Karmapa. The 5th
Dalai Lama called for harsh retribution against the rebels,
directing the Mongol army to obliterate the male and female lines,
and the offspring too “like eggs smashed against rocks…. In short,
annihilate any traces of them, even their names.”
7
In 1792,
many Kagyu monasteries were confiscated and their monks were
forcibly converted to the Gelug sect (the Dalai Lama’s
denomination). The Gelug school, known also as the “Yellow Hats,”
showed little tolerance or willingness to mix their teachings with
other Buddhist sects. In the words of one of their traditional
prayers: “Praise to you, violent god of the Yellow Hat teachings/who
reduces to particles of dust/ great beings, high officials and
ordinary people/ who pollute and corrupt the Gelug doctrine.”
8
An eighteenth-century memoir of a Tibetan general depicts sectarian
strife among Buddhists that is as brutal and bloody as any religious
conflict might be.
9
This grim history remains largely unvisited by present-day followers
of Tibetan Buddhism in the West.
Religions
have had a close relationship not only with violence but with
economic exploitation. Indeed, it is often the economic exploitation
that necessitates the violence. Such was the case with the Tibetan
theocracy. Until 1959, when the Dalai Lama last presided over Tibet,
most of the arable land was still organized into manorial estates
worked by serfs. These estates were owned by two social groups: the
rich secular landlords and the rich theocratic lamas. Even a writer
sympathetic to the old order allows that “a great deal of real
estate belonged to the monasteries, and most of them amassed great
riches.” Much of the wealth was accumulated “through active
participation in trade, commerce, and money lending.”
10
Drepung
monastery was one of the biggest landowners in the world, with its
185 manors, 25,000 serfs, 300 great pastures, and 16,000 herdsmen.
The wealth of the monasteries rested in the hands of small numbers
of high-ranking lamas. Most ordinary monks lived modestly and had no
direct access to great wealth. The Dalai Lama himself “lived richly
in the 1000-room, 14-story Potala Palace.”
11
Secular
leaders also did well. A notable example was the commander-in-chief
of the Tibetan army, a member of the Dalai Lama’s lay Cabinet, who
owned 4,000 square kilometers of land and 3,500 serfs.
12
Old Tibet has been misrepresented by some Western admirers as “a
nation that required no police force because its people voluntarily
observed the laws of karma.”
13
In fact. it had a professional army, albeit a small one, that served
mainly as a gendarmerie for the landlords to keep order, protect
their property, and hunt down runaway serfs.
Young
Tibetan boys were regularly taken from their peasant families and
brought into the monasteries to be trained as monks. Once there,
they were bonded for life. Tashě-Tsering, a monk, reports that it
was common for peasant children to be sexually mistreated in the
monasteries. He himself was a victim of repeated rape, beginning at
age nine.
14
The monastic estates also conscripted children for lifelong
servitude as domestics, dance performers, and soldiers.
In old Tibet
there were small numbers of farmers who subsisted as a kind of free
peasantry, and perhaps an additional 10,000 people who composed the
“middle-class” families of merchants, shopkeepers, and small
traders. Thousands of others were beggars. There also were slaves,
usually domestic servants, who owned nothing. Their offspring were
born into slavery.
15
The majority of the rural population were serfs. Treated little
better than slaves, the serfs went without schooling or medical
care, They were under a lifetime bond to work the lord's land--or
the monastery’s land--without pay, to repair the lord's houses,
transport his crops, and collect his firewood. They were also
expected to provide carrying animals and transportation on demand.16
Their masters told them what crops to grow and what animals to
raise. They could not get married without the consent of their lord
or lama. And they might easily be separated from their families
should their owners lease them out to work in a distant location.
17
As in a free
labor system and unlike slavery, the overlords had no responsibility
for the serf’s maintenance and no direct interest in his or her
survival as an expensive piece of property. The serfs had to support
themselves. Yet as in a slave system, they were bound to their
masters, guaranteeing a fixed and permanent workforce that could
neither organize nor strike nor freely depart as might laborers in a
market context. The overlords had the best of both worlds.
One 22-year
old woman, herself a runaway serf, reports: “Pretty serf girls were
usually taken by the owner as house servants and used as he wished”;
they “were just slaves without rights.”18
Serfs needed permission to go anywhere. Landowners had legal
authority to capture those who tried to flee. One 24-year old
runaway welcomed the Chinese intervention as a “liberation.” He
testified that under serfdom he was subjected to incessant toil,
hunger, and cold. After his third failed escape, he was merciless
beaten by the landlord’s men until blood poured from his nose and
mouth. They then poured alcohol and caustic soda on his wounds to
increase the pain, he claimed.19
The serfs
were taxed upon getting married, taxed for the birth of each child
and for every death in the family. They were taxed for planting a
tree in their yard and for keeping animals. They were taxed for
religious festivals and for public dancing and drumming, for being
sent to prison and upon being released. Those who could not find
work were taxed for being unemployed, and if they traveled to
another village in search of work, they paid a passage tax. When
people could not pay, the monasteries lent them money at 20 to 50
percent interest. Some debts were handed down from father to son to
grandson. Debtors who could not meet their obligations risked being
cast into slavery.20
The
theocracy’s religious teachings buttressed its class order. The poor
and afflicted were taught that they had brought their troubles upon
themselves because of their wicked ways in previous lives. Hence
they had to accept the misery of their present existence as a karmic
atonement and in anticipation that their lot would improve in their
next lifetime. The rich and powerful treated their good fortune as a
reward for, and tangible evidence of, virtue in past and present
lives.
The Tibetan
serfs were something more than superstitious victims, blind to their
own oppression. As we have seen, some ran away; others openly
resisted, sometimes suffering dire consequences. In feudal Tibet,
torture and mutilation--including eye gouging, the pulling out of
tongues, hamstringing, and amputation--were favored punishments
inflicted upon thieves, and runaway or resistant serfs. Journeying
through Tibet in the 1960s, Stuart and Roma Gelder interviewed a
former serf, Tsereh Wang Tuei, who had stolen two sheep belonging to
a monastery. For this he had both his eyes gouged out and his hand
mutilated beyond use. He explains that he no longer is a Buddhist:
“When a holy lama told them to blind me I thought there was no good
in religion.”21
Since it was against Buddhist teachings to take human life, some
offenders were severely lashed and then “left to God” in the
freezing night to die. “The parallels between Tibet and medieval
Europe are striking,” concludes Tom Grunfeld in his book on Tibet.
22
In 1959,
Anna Louise Strong visited an exhibition of torture equipment that
had been used by the Tibetan overlords. There were handcuffs of all
sizes, including small ones for children, and instruments for
cutting off noses and ears, gouging out eyes, breaking off hands,
and hamstringing legs. There were hot brands, whips, and special
implements for disemboweling. The exhibition presented photographs
and testimonies of victims who had been blinded or crippled or
suffered amputations for thievery. There was the shepherd whose
master owed him a reimbursement in yuan and wheat but refused to
pay. So he took one of the master’s cows; for this he had his hands
severed. Another herdsman, who opposed having his wife taken from
him by his lord, had his hands broken off. There were pictures of
Communist activists with noses and upper lips cut off, and a woman
who was raped and then had her nose sliced away.23
Earlier
visitors to Tibet commented on the theocratic despotism. In 1895, an
Englishman, Dr. A. L. Waddell, wrote that the populace was under the
“intolerable tyranny of monks” and the devil superstitions they had
fashioned to terrorize the people. In 1904 Perceval Landon described
the Dalai Lama’s rule as “an engine of oppression.” At about that
time, another English traveler, Captain W.F.T. O’Connor, observed
that “the great landowners and the priests… exercise each in their
own dominion a despotic power from which there is no appeal,” while
the people are “oppressed by the most monstrous growth of
monasticism and priest-craft.” Tibetan rulers “invented degrading
legends and stimulated a spirit of superstition” among the common
people. In 1937, another visitor, Spencer Chapman, wrote, “The
Lamaist monk does not spend his time in ministering to the people or
educating them. . . . The beggar beside the road is nothing to the
monk. Knowledge is the jealously guarded prerogative of the
monasteries and is used to increase their influence and wealth.”24
As much as we might wish otherwise, feudal theocratic Tibet was a
far cry from the romanticized Shangri La so enthusiastically
nurtured by Buddhism’s western proselytes.
II.
Secularization vs. Spirituality
What
happened to Tibet after the Chinese Communists moved into the
country in 1951? The treaty of that year provided for ostensible
self-governance under the Dalai Lama’s rule but gave China military
control and exclusive right to conduct foreign relations. The
Chinese were also granted a direct role in internal administration
“to promote social reforms.” Among the earliest changes they wrought
was to reduce usurious interest rates, and build a few hospitals and
roads. At first, they moved slowly, relying mostly on persuasion in
an attempt to effect reconstruction. No aristocratic or monastic
property was confiscated, and feudal lords continued to reign over
their hereditarily bound peasants. “Contrary to popular belief in
the West,” claims one observer, the Chinese “took care to show
respect for Tibetan culture and religion.”25
Over the
centuries the Tibetan lords and lamas had seen Chinese come and go,
and had enjoyed good relations with Generalissimo Chiang Kaishek and
his reactionary Kuomintang rule in China.26
The approval of the Kuomintang government was needed to validate the
choice of the Dalai Lama and Panchen Lama. When the current 14th
Dalai Lama was first installed in Lhasa, it was with an armed escort
of Chinese troops and an attending Chinese minister, in accordance
with centuries-old tradition. What upset the Tibetan lords and lamas
in the early 1950s was that these latest Chinese were Communists.
It would be only a matter of time, they feared, before the
Communists started imposing their collectivist egalitarian schemes
upon Tibet.
The issue
was joined in 1956-57, when armed Tibetan bands ambushed convoys of
the Chinese Peoples Liberation Army. The uprising received extensive
assistance from the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency (CIA),
including military training, support camps in Nepal, and numerous
airlifts.27
Meanwhile in the United States, the American Society for a Free
Asia, a CIA-financed front, energetically publicized the cause of
Tibetan resistance, with the Dalai Lama’s eldest brother, Thubtan
Norbu, playing an active role in that organization. The Dalai Lama's
second-eldest brother, Gyalo Thondup, established an intelligence
operation with the CIA as early as 1951. He later upgraded it into a
CIA-trained guerrilla unit whose recruits parachuted back into
Tibet.28
Many Tibetan
commandos and agents whom the CIA dropped into the country were
chiefs of aristocratic clans or the sons of chiefs. Ninety percent
of them were never heard from again, according to a report from the
CIA itself, meaning they were most likely captured and killed.29
“Many lamas and lay members of the elite and much of the Tibetan
army joined the uprising, but in the main the populace did not,
assuring its failure,” writes Hugh Deane.30
In their book on Tibet, Ginsburg and Mathos reach a similar
conclusion: “As far as can be ascertained, the great bulk of the
common people of Lhasa and of the adjoining countryside failed to
join in the fighting against the Chinese both when it first began
and as it progressed.”31
Eventually the resistance crumbled.
Whatever wrongs and new oppressions introduced by the Chinese after
1959, they did abolish slavery and the Tibetan serfdom system of
unpaid labor. They eliminated the many crushing taxes, started work
projects, and greatly reduced unemployment and beggary. They
established secular schools, thereby breaking the educational
monopoly of the monasteries. And they constructed running water and
electrical systems in Lhasa.32
Heinrich
Harrer (later revealed to have been a sergeant in Hitler’s SS) wrote
a bestseller about his experiences in Tibet that was made into a
popular Hollywood movie. He reported that the Tibetans who resisted
the Chinese “were predominantly nobles, semi-nobles and lamas; they
were punished by being made to perform the lowliest tasks, such as
laboring on roads and bridges. They were further humiliated by being
made to clean up the city before the tourists arrived.” They also
had to live in a camp originally reserved for beggars and
vagrants--all of which Harrer treats as sure evidence of the
dreadful nature of the Chinese occupation.33
By 1961,
Chinese occupation authorities expropriated the landed estates owned
by lords and lamas. They distributed many thousands of acres to
tenant farmers and landless peasants, reorganizing them into
hundreds of communes.. Herds once owned by nobility were turned over
to collectives of poor shepherds. Improvements were made in the
breeding of livestock, and new varieties of vegetables and new
strains of wheat and barley were introduced, along with irrigation
improvements, all of which reportedly led to an increase in agrarian
production.34
Many
peasants remained as religious as ever, giving alms to the clergy.
But monks who had been conscripted as children into the religious
orders were now free to renounce the monastic life, and thousands
did, especially the younger ones. The remaining clergy lived on
modest government stipends and extra income earned by officiating at
prayer services, weddings, and funerals.35
Both the
Dalai Lama and his advisor and youngest brother, Tendzin Choegyal,
claimed that “more than 1.2 million Tibetans are dead as a result of
the Chinese occupation.”36
The official 1953 census--six years before the Chinese
crackdown--recorded the entire population residing in Tibet at
1,274,000.37
Other census counts put the population within Tibet at about two
million. If the Chinese killed 1.2 million in the early 1960s then
almost all of Tibet, would have been depopulated, transformed into a
killing field dotted with death camps and mass graves--of which we
have no evidence. The thinly distributed Chinese force in Tibet
could not have rounded up, hunted down, and exterminated that many
people even if it had spent all its time doing nothing else.
Chinese
authorities claim to have put an end to floggings, mutilations, and
amputations as a form of criminal punishment. They themselves,
however, have been charged with acts of brutality by exile Tibetans.
The authorities do admit to “mistakes,” particularly during the
1966-76 Cultural Revolution when the persecution of religious
beliefs reached a high tide in both China and Tibet. After the
uprising in the late 1950s, thousands of Tibetans were incarcerated.
During the Great Leap Forward, forced collectivization and grain
farming were imposed on the Tibetan peasantry, sometimes with
disastrous effect on production. In the late 1970s, China began
relaxing controls “and tried to undo some of the damage wrought
during the previous two decades.”38
In 1980, the
Chinese government initiated reforms reportedly designed to grant
Tibet a greater degree of self-rule and self-administration.
Tibetans would now be allowed to cultivate private plots, sell their
harvest surpluses, decide for themselves what crops to grow, and
keep yaks and sheep. Communication with the outside world was again
permitted, and frontier controls were eased to permit some Tibetans
to visit exiled relatives in India and Nepal.39
By the 1980s many of the principal lamas had begun to shuttle back
and forth between China and the exile communities abroad, “restoring
their monasteries in Tibet and helping to revitalize Buddhism
there.”40
As of 2007
Tibetan Buddhism was still practiced widely and tolerated by
officialdom. Religious pilgrimages and other standard forms of
worship were allowed but within limits. All monks and nuns had to
sign a loyalty pledge that they would not use their religious
position to foment secession or dissent. And displaying photos of
the Dalai Lama was declared illegal.41
In the
1990s, the Han, the ethnic group comprising over 95 percent of
China’s immense population, began moving in substantial numbers into
Tibet. On the streets of Lhasa and Shigatse, signs of Han
colonization are readily visible. Chinese run the factories and many
of the shops and vending stalls. Tall office buildings and large
shopping centers have been built with funds that might have been
better spent on water treatment plants and housing. Chinese cadres
in Tibet too often view their Tibetan neighbors as backward and
lazy, in need of economic development and “patriotic education.”
During the 1990s Tibetan government employees suspected of harboring
nationalist sympathies were purged from office, and campaigns were
once again launched to discredit the Dalai Lama. Individual Tibetans
reportedly were subjected to arrest, imprisonment, and forced labor
for carrying out separatist activities and engaging in “political
subversion.” Some were held in administrative detention without
adequate food, water, and blankets, subjected to threats, beatings,
and other mistreatment.42
Tibetan
history, culture, and certainly religion are slighted in schools.
Teaching materials, though translated into Tibetan, focus mainly on
Chinese history and culture. Chinese family planning regulations
allow a three-child limit for Tibetan families. (There is only a
one-child limit for Han families throughout China, and a two-child
limit for rural Han families whose first child is a girl.) If a
Tibetan couple goes over the three-child limit, the excess children
can be denied subsidized daycare, health care, housing, and
education. These penalties have been enforced irregularly and vary
by district.43
None of these child services, it should be noted, were available to
Tibetans before the Chinese takeover.
For the rich lamas and secular lords, the Communist intervention was
an unmitigated calamity. Most of them fled abroad, as did the Dalai
Lama himself, who was assisted in his flight by the CIA. Some
discovered to their horror that they would have to work for a
living. Many, however, escaped that fate. Throughout the 1960s, the
Tibetan exile community was secretly pocketing $1.7 million a year
from the CIA, according to documents released by the State
Department in 1998. Once this fact was publicized, the Dalai Lama’s
organization itself issued a statement admitting that it had
received millions of dollars from the CIA during the 1960s to send
armed squads of exiles into Tibet to undermine the Maoist
revolution. The Dalai Lama's annual payment from the CIA was
$186,000. Indian intelligence also financed both him and other
Tibetan exiles. He has refused to say whether he or his brothers
worked for the CIA. The agency has also declined to comment.44
In 1995, the
News & Observer of Raleigh, North Carolina, carried a
frontpage color photograph of the Dalai Lama being embraced by the
reactionary Republican senator Jesse Helms, under the headline
“Buddhist Captivates Hero of Religious Right.”45
In April 1999, along with Margaret Thatcher, Pope John Paul II, and
the first George Bush, the Dalai Lama called upon the British
government to release Augusto Pinochet, the former fascist dictator
of Chile and a longtime CIA client who was visiting England. The
Dalai Lama urged that Pinochet not be forced to go to Spain where he
was wanted to stand trial for crimes against humanity.
Into the
twenty-first century, via the National Endowment for Democracy and
other conduits that are more respectable sounding than the CIA, the
U.S. Congress continued to allocate an annual $2 million to Tibetans
in India, with additional millions for “democracy activities” within
the Tibetan exile community. In addition to these funds, the Dalai
Lama received money from financier George Soros.46
Whatever the
Dalai Lama’s associations with the CIA and various reactionaries, he
did speak often of peace, love, and nonviolence. He himself really
cannot be blamed for the abuses of Tibet’s ancien régime, having
been but 25 years old when he fled into exile. In a 1994 interview,
he went on record as favoring the building of schools and roads in
his country. He said the corvée (forced unpaid serf labor) and
certain taxes imposed on the peasants were “extremely bad.” And he
disliked the way people were saddled with old debts sometimes passed
down from generation to generation.47During
the half century of living in the western world, he had embraced
concepts such as human rights and religious freedom, ideas largely
unknown in old Tibet. He even proposed democracy for Tibet,
featuring a written constitution and a representative assembly.48
In 1996, the
Dalai Lama issued a statement that must have had an unsettling
effect on the exile community. It read in part: “Marxism is founded
on moral principles, while capitalism is concerned only with gain
and profitability.” Marxism fosters “the equitable utilization of
the means of production” and cares about “the fate of the working
classes” and “the victims of . . . exploitation. For those reasons
the system appeals to me, and . . . I think of myself as
half-Marxist, half-Buddhist.49
But he also
sent a reassuring message to “those who live in abundance”: “It is a
good thing to be rich... Those are the fruits for deserving actions,
the proof that they have been generous in the past.” And to the poor
he offers this admonition: “There is no good reason to become bitter
and rebel against those who have property and fortune... It is
better to develop a positive attitude.”50
In 2005 the
Dalai Lama signed a widely advertised statement along with ten other
Nobel Laureates supporting the “inalienable and fundamental human
right” of working people throughout the world to form labor unions
to protect their interests, in accordance with the United Nations’
Universal Declaration of Human Rights. In many countries “this
fundamental right is poorly protected and in some it is explicitly
banned or brutally suppressed,” the statement read. Burma, China,
Colombia, Bosnia, and a few other countries were singled out as
among the worst offenders. Even the United States “fails to
adequately protect workers’ rights to form unions and bargain
collectively. Millions of U.S. workers lack any legal protection to
form unions….”51
The Dalai
Lama also gave full support to removing the ingrained traditional
obstacles that have kept Tibetan nuns from receiving an education.
Upon arriving in exile, few nuns could read or write. In Tibet their
activities had been devoted to daylong periods of prayer and chants.
But in northern India they now began reading Buddhist philosophy and
engaging in theological study and debate, activities that in old
Tibet had been open only to monks.52
In November
2005 the Dalai Lama spoke at Stanford University on “The Heart of
Nonviolence,” but stopped short of a blanket condemnation of all
violence. Violent actions that are committed in order to reduce
future suffering are not to be condemned, he said, citing World War
II as an example of a worthy effort to protect democracy. What of
the four years of carnage and mass destruction in Iraq, a war
condemned by most of the world—even by a conservative pope--as a
blatant violation of international law and a crime against humanity?
The Dalai Lama was undecided: “The Iraq war—it’s too early to say,
right or wrong.”53
Earlier he had voiced support for the U.S. military intervention
against Yugoslavia and, later on, the U.S. military intervention
into Afghanistan.54
III.
Exit Feudal Theocracy
As the
Shangri-La myth would have it, in old Tibet the people lived in
contented and tranquil symbiosis with their monastic and secular
lords. Rich lamas and poor monks, wealthy landlords and impoverished
serfs were all bonded together, mutually sustained by the comforting
balm of a deeply spiritual and pacific culture.
One is
reminded of the idealized image of feudal Europe presented by
latter-day conservative Catholics such as G. K. Chesterton and
Hilaire Belloc. For them, medieval Christendom was a world of
contented peasants living in the secure embrace of their Church,
under the more or less benign protection of their lords.55
Again we are invited to accept a particular culture in its idealized
form divorced from its murky material history. This means accepting
it as presented by its favored class, by those who profited most
from it. The Shangri-La image of Tibet bears no more resemblance to
historic actuality than does the pastoral image of medieval Europe.
Seen in all
its grim realities, old Tibet confirms the view I expressed in an
earlier book, namely that culture is anything but neutral. Culture
can operate as a legitimating cover for a host of grave injustices,
benefiting a privileged portion of society at great cost to the
rest.56
In theocratic feudal Tibet, ruling interests manipulated the
traditional culture to fortify their own wealth and power. The
theocracy equated rebellious thought and action with satanic
influence. It propagated the general presumption of landlord
superiority and peasant unworthiness. The rich were represented as
deserving their good life, and the lowly poor as deserving their
mean existence, all codified in teachings about the karmic residue
of virtue and vice accumulated from past lives, presented as part of
God’s will.
Were the
more affluent lamas just hypocrites who preached one thing and
secretly believed another? More likely they were genuinely attached
to those beliefs that brought such good results for them. That their
theology so perfectly supported their material privileges only
strengthened the sincerity with which it was embraced.
It might be
said that we denizens of the modern secular world cannot grasp the
equations of happiness and pain, contentment and custom, that
characterize more traditionally spiritual societies. This is
probably true, and it may explain why some of us idealize such
societies. But still, a gouged eye is a gouged eye; a flogging is a
flogging; and the grinding exploitation of serfs and slaves is a
brutal class injustice whatever its cultural wrapping. There is a
difference between a spiritual bond and human bondage, even when
both exist side by side
Many
ordinary Tibetans want the Dalai Lama back in their country, but it
appears that relatively few want a return to the social order he
represented. A 1999 story in the Washington Post notes that the
Dalai Lama continues to be revered in Tibet, but
. . .
few Tibetans would welcome a return of the corrupt aristocratic
clans that fled with him in 1959 and that comprise the bulk of
his advisers. Many Tibetan farmers, for example, have no
interest in surrendering the land they gained during China’s
land reform to the clans. Tibet’s former slaves say they, too,
don’t want their former masters to return to power. “I’ve
already lived that life once before,” said Wangchuk, a
67-year-old former slave who was wearing his best clothes for
his yearly pilgrimage to Shigatse, one of the holiest sites of
Tibetan Buddhism. He said he worshipped the Dalai Lama, but
added, “I may not be free under Chinese communism, but I am
better off than when I was a slave.”57
It should be
noted that the Dalai Lama is not the only highly placed lama chosen
in childhood as a reincarnation. One or another reincarnate lama or
tulku--a spiritual teacher of special purity elected to be
reborn again and again--can be found presiding over most major
monasteries. The tulku system is unique to Tibetan
Buddhism. Scores of Tibetan lamas claim to be reincarnate tulkus.
The very
first tulku was a lama known as the Karmapa who appeared
nearly three centuries before the first Dalai Lama. The Karmapa is
leader of a Tibetan Buddhist tradition known as the Karma Kagyu. The
rise of the Gelugpa sect headed by the Dalai Lama led to a
politico-religious rivalry with the Kagyu that has lasted five
hundred years and continues to play itself out within the Tibetan
exile community today. That the Kagyu sect has grown famously,
opening some six hundred new centers around the world in the last
thirty-five years, has not helped the situation.
The search
for a tulku, Erik Curren reminds us, has not always been
conducted in that purely spiritual mode portrayed in certain
Hollywood films. “Sometimes monastic officials wanted a child from a
powerful local noble family to give the cloister more political
clout. Other times they wanted a child from a lower-class family who
would have little leverage to influence the child’s upbringing.” On
other occasions “a local warlord, the Chinese emperor or even the
Dalai Lama’s government in Lhasa might [have tried] to impose its
choice of tulku on a monastery for political reasons.”58
Such may
have been the case in the selection of the 17th Karmapa, whose
monastery-in-exile is situated in Rumtek, in the Indian state of
Sikkim. In 1993 the monks of the Karma Kagyu tradition had a
candidate of their own choice. The Dalai Lama, along with several
dissenting Karma Kagyu leaders (and with the support of the Chinese
government!) backed a different boy. The Kagyu monks charged that
the Dalai Lama had overstepped his authority in attempting to select
a leader for their sect. “Neither his political role nor his
position as a lama in his own Gelugpa tradition entitled him to
choose the Karmapa, who is a leader of a different tradition…”59
As one of the Kagyu leaders insisted, “Dharma is about thinking for
yourself. It is not about automatically following a teacher in all
things, no matter how respected that teacher may be. More than
anyone else, Buddhists should respect other people’s rights—their
human rights and their religious freedom.”60
What
followed was a dozen years of conflict in the Tibetan exile
community, punctuated by intermittent riots, intimidation, physical
attacks, blacklisting, police harassment, litigation, official
corruption, and the looting and undermining of the Karmapa’s
monastery in Rumtek by supporters of the Gelugpa faction. All this
has caused at least one western devotee to wonder if the years of
exile were not hastening the moral corrosion of Tibetan Buddhism.61
What is
clear is that not all Tibetan Buddhists accept the Dalai Lama as
their theological and spiritual mentor. Though he is referred to as
the “spiritual leader of Tibet,” many see this title as little more
than a formality. It does not give him authority over the four
religious schools of Tibet other than his own, “just as calling the
U.S. president the ‘leader of the free world’ gives him no role in
governing France or Germany.”62
Not all
Tibetan exiles are enamoured of the old Shangri-La theocracy. Kim
Lewis, who studied healing methods with a Buddhist monk in Berkeley,
California, had occasion to talk at length with more than a dozen
Tibetan women who lived in the monk’s building. When she asked how
they felt about returning to their homeland, the sentiment was
unanimously negative. At first, Lewis assumed that their reluctance
had to do with the Chinese occupation, but they quickly informed her
otherwise. They said they were extremely grateful “not to have to
marry 4 or 5 men, be pregnant almost all the time,” or deal with
sexually transmitted diseases contacted from a straying husband. The
younger women “were delighted to be getting an education, wanted
absolutely nothing to do with any religion, and wondered why
Americans were so naďve [about Tibet].”63
The women
interviewed by Lewis recounted stories of their grandmothers’
ordeals with monks who used them as “wisdom consorts.” By sleeping
with the monks, the grandmothers were told, they gained “the means
to enlightenment” -- after all, the Buddha himself had to be with a
woman to reach enlightenment.
The women
also mentioned the “rampant” sex that the supposedly spiritual and
abstemious monks practiced with each other in the Gelugpa sect. The
women who were mothers spoke bitterly about the monastery’s
confiscation of their young boys in Tibet. They claimed that when a
boy cried for his mother, he would be told “Why do you cry for her,
she gave you up--she's just a woman.”
The monks
who were granted political asylum in California applied for public
assistance. Lewis, herself a devotee for a time, assisted with the
paperwork. She observes that they continue to receive government
checks amounting to $550 to $700 per month along with Medicare. In
addition, the monks reside rent free in nicely furnished apartments.
“They pay no utilities, have free access to the Internet on
computers provided for them, along with fax machines, free cell and
home phones and cable TV.”
They also
receive a monthly payment from their order, along with contributions
and dues from their American followers. Some devotees eagerly carry
out chores for the monks, including grocery shopping and cleaning
their apartments and toilets. These same holy men, Lewis remarks,
“have no problem criticizing Americans for their ‘obsession with
material things.’”64
To
welcome the end of the old feudal theocracy in Tibet is not to
applaud everything about Chinese rule in that country. This point is
seldom understood by today’s Shangri-La believers in the West. The
converse is also true: To denounce the Chinese occupation does not
mean we have to romanticize the former feudal régime. Tibetans
deserve to be perceived as actual people, not perfected
spiritualists or innocent political symbols. “To idealize them,”
notes Ma Jian, a dissident Chinese traveler to Tibet (now living in
Britain), “is to deny them their humanity.”65
One common
complaint among Buddhist followers in the West is that Tibet’s
religious culture is being undermined by the Chinese occupation. To
some extent this seems to be the case. Many of the monasteries are
closed, and much of the theocracy seems to have passed into history.
Whether Chinese rule has brought betterment or disaster is not the
central issue here. The question is what kind of country was old
Tibet. What I am disputing is the supposedly pristine spiritual
nature of that pre-invasion culture. We can advocate religious
freedom and independence for a new Tibet without having to embrace
the mythology about old Tibet. Tibetan feudalism was cloaked in
Buddhism, but the two are not to be equated. In reality, old Tibet
was not a Paradise Lost. It was a retrograde repressive theocracy of
extreme privilege and poverty, a long way from Shangri-La.
Finally, let
it be said that if Tibet’s future is to be positioned somewhere
within China’s emerging free-market paradise, then this does not
bode well for the Tibetans. China boasts a dazzling 8 percent
economic growth rate and is emerging as one of the world’s greatest
industrial powers. But with economic growth has come an ever
deepening gulf between rich and poor. Most Chinese live close to the
poverty level or well under it, while a small group of newly brooded
capitalists profit hugely in collusion with shady officials.
Regional bureaucrats milk the country dry, extorting graft from the
populace and looting local treasuries. Land grabbing in cities and
countryside by avaricious developers and corrupt officials at the
expense of the populace are almost everyday occurrences. Tens of
thousands of grassroot protests and disturbances have erupted across
the country, usually to be met with unforgiving police force.
Corruption is so prevalent, reaching into so many places, that even
the normally complacent national leadership was forced to take
notice and began moving against it in late 2006.
Workers in
China who try to organize labor unions in the corporate dominated
“business zones” risk losing their jobs or getting beaten and
imprisoned. Millions of business zone workers toil twelve-hour days
at subsistence wages. With the health care system now being
privatized, free or affordable medical treatment is no longer
available for millions. Men have tramped into the cities in search
of work, leaving an increasingly impoverished countryside populated
by women, children, and the elderly. The suicide rate has increased
dramatically, especially among women.66
China’s
natural environment is sadly polluted. Most of its fabled rivers and
many lakes are dead, producing massive fish die-offs from the
billions of tons of industrial emissions and untreated human waste
dumped into them. Toxic effluents, including pesticides and
herbicides, seep into ground water or directly into irrigation
canals. Cancer rates in villages situated along waterways have
skyrocketed a thousand-fold. Hundreds of millions of urban residents
breathe air rated as dangerously unhealthy, contaminated by
industrial growth and the recent addition of millions of
automobiles. An estimated 400,000 die prematurely every year from
air pollution. Government environmental agencies have no enforcement
power to stop polluters, and generally the government ignores or
denies such problems, concentrating instead on industrial growth.67
China’s own
scientific establishment reports that unless greenhouse gases are
curbed, the nation will face massive crop failures along with
catastrophic food and water shortages in the years ahead. In
2006-2007 severe drought was already afflicting southwest China.68
If China is
the great success story of speedy free market development, and is to
be the model and inspiration for Tibet’s future, then old feudal
Tibet indeed may start looking a lot better than it actually was.
Michael Parenti received his Ph.D. in political science from
Yale University. He has taught at a number of colleges and
universities, in the United States and abroad. Some of his writings
have been translated into Arabic, Bangla, Chinese, Dutch, French,
German, Greek, Italian, Japanese, Korean, Persian, Polish,
Portuguese, Russian, Serbian, Spanish, Swedish and Turkish.
Notes:
-
1. Mark Juergensmeyer,
Terror in the Mind of God, (University of
California Press, 2000), 6, 112-113, 157.
-
2. Kyong-Hwa Seok,
"Korean Monk Gangs Battle for Temple Turf," San Francisco
Examiner, 3 December 1998.
-
3. Los Angeles
Times, February 25, 2006.
-
4. Dalai Lama quoted in
Donald Lopez Jr., Prisoners of Shangri-La: Tibetan
Buddhism and the West (Chicago and London: Chicago
University Press, 1998), 205.
-
5. Erik D. Curren,
Buddha's Not Smiling: Uncovering Corruption at the Heart of
Tibetan Buddhism Today (Alaya Press 2005), 41.
-
6. Stuart Gelder and
Roma Gelder, The Timely Rain: Travels in New Tibet
(Monthly Review Press, 1964), 119, 123; and Melvyn C.
Goldstein, The Snow Lion and the Dragon: China, Tibet,
and the Dalai Lama (University of California Press,
1995), 6-16.
-
7. Curren, Buddha's
Not Smiling, 50.
-
8. Stephen Bachelor,
"Letting Daylight into Magic: The Life and Times of Dorje
Shugden," Tricycle: The Buddhist Review, 7, Spring
1998. Bachelor discusses the sectarian fanaticism and
doctrinal clashes that ill fit the Western portrait of
Buddhism as a non-dogmatic and tolerant tradition.
-
9. Dhoring Tenzin
Paljor, Autobiography, cited in Curren, Buddha's Not
Smiling, 8.
-
10. Pradyumna P. Karan,
The Changing Face of Tibet: The Impact of Chinese
Communist Ideology on the Landscape (Lexington,
Kentucky: University Press of Kentucky, 1976), 64.
-
11. See Gary Wilson's
report in Worker's World, 6 February 1997.
-
12. Gelder and Gelder,
The Timely Rain, 62 and 174.
-
13. As skeptically
noted by Lopez, Prisoners of Shangri-La, 9.
-
14. Melvyn Goldstein,
William Siebenschuh, and Tashě-Tsering, The Struggle for
Modern Tibet: The Autobiography of Tashě-Tsering
(Armonk, N.Y.: M.E. Sharpe, 1997).
-
15. Gelder and Gelder,
The Timely Rain, 110.
-
16. Melvyn C.
Goldstein, A History of Modern Tibet 1913-1951
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 5 and
passim.
-
17. Anna Louise Strong,
Tibetan Interviews (Peking: New World Press, 1959),
15, 19-21, 24.
-
18. Quoted in Strong,
Tibetan Interviews, 25.
-
19. Strong, Tibetan
Interviews, 31.
-
20. Gelder and Gelder,
The Timely Rain, 175-176; and Strong, Tibetan
Interviews, 25-26.
-
21. Gelder and Gelder,
The Timely Rain, 113.
-
22. A. Tom Grunfeld,
The Making of Modern Tibet rev. ed. (Armonk, N.Y.
and London: 1996), 9 and 7-33 for a general discussion of
feudal Tibet; see also Felix Greene, A Curtain of
Ignorance (Garden City, N.Y.: Doubleday, 1961),
241-249; Goldstein, A History of Modern Tibet, 3-5;
and Lopez, Prisoners of Shangri-La, passim.
-
23. Strong, Tibetan
Interviews, 91-96.
-
24. Waddell, Landon,
O'Connor, and Chapman are quoted in Gelder and Gelder,
The Timely Rain, 123-125.
-
25. Goldstein, The Snow
Lion and the Dragon, 52.
-
26. Heinrich Harrer,
Return to Tibet (New York: Schocken, 1985), 29.
-
27. See Kenneth Conboy
and James Morrison, The CIA's Secret War in Tibet
(Lawrence, Kansas: University of Kansas Press, 2002); and
William Leary, "Secret Mission to Tibet," Air & Space,
December 1997/January 1998.
-
28. On the CIA's links
to the Dalai Lama and his family and entourage, see Loren
Coleman, Tom Slick and the Search for the Yeti
(London: Faber and Faber, 1989).
-
29. Leary, "Secret
Mission to Tibet."ť
-
30. Hugh Deane, "The
Cold War in Tibet,"ť CovertAction Quarterly (Winter
1987).
-
31. George Ginsburg and
Michael Mathos Communist China and Tibet (1964),
quoted in Deane, "The Cold War in Tibet." Deane notes that
author Bina Roy reached a similar conclusion.
-
32. See Greene, A
Curtain of Ignorance, 248 and passim; and Grunfeld,
The Making of Modern Tibet, passim.
-
33. Harrer, Return
to Tibet, 54.
-
34. Karan, The
Changing Face of Tibet, 36-38, 41, 57-58; London
Times, 4 July 1966.
-
35. Gelder and Gelder,
The Timely Rain, 29 and 47-48.
-
36. Tendzin Choegyal,
"The Truth about Tibet," Imprimis (publication of
Hillsdale College, Michigan), April 1999.
-
37. Karan, The
Changing Face of Tibet, 52-53.
-
38. Elaine Kurtenbach,
Associate Press report, 12 February 1998.
-
39. Goldstein, The
Snow Lion and the Dragon, 47-48.
-
40. Curren,
Buddha's Not Smiling, 8.
-
41. San Francisco
Chonicle, 9 January 2007.
-
42. Report by the
International Committee of Lawyers for Tibet, A
Generation in Peril (Berkeley Calif.: 2001), passim.
-
43. International
Committee of Lawyers for Tibet, A Generation in Peril,
66-68, 98.
-
44. Jim Mann, "CIA Gave
Aid to Tibetan Exiles in '60s, Files Show,"ť Los Angeles
Times, 15 September 1998; and New York Times, 1
October, 1998.
-
45. News & Observer, 6
September 1995, cited in Lopez, Prisoners of Shangri-La,
3.
-
46. Heather Cottin,
"George Soros, Imperial Wizard," CovertAction Quarterly
no. 74 (Fall 2002).
-
47. Goldstein, The
Snow Lion and the Dragon, 51.
-
48. Tendzin Choegyal,
"The Truth about Tibet."ť
-
49. The Dalai Lama in
Marianne Dresser (ed.), Beyond Dogma: Dialogues and
Discourses (Berkeley, Calif.: North Atlantic Books,
1996)
-
50. These comments are
from a book of the Dalai Lama's writings quoted in Nikolai
Thyssen, "Oceaner af onkel Tom," Dagbladet Information,
29 December 2003, (translated for me by Julius Wilm).
Thyssen's review (in Danish) can be found at http://www.information.dk/Indgang/VisArkiv.dna?pArtNo=20031229154141.txt.
-
51. "A Global Call for
Human Rights in the Workplace,"ť New York Times, 6
December 2005.
-
52. San Francisco
Chronicle, 14 January 2007.
-
53. San Francisco
Chronicle, 5 November 2005.
-
54. Times of India
13 October 2000; Samantha Conti's report, Reuter, 17 June
1994; Amitabh Pal, "The Dalai Lama Interview," Progressive,
January 2006.
-
55. The Gelders draw
this comparison, The Timely Rain, 64.
-
56. Michael Parenti,
The Culture Struggle (Seven Stories, 2006).
-
57. John Pomfret,
"Tibet Caught in China's Web,ť" Washington Post, 23 July
1999.
-
58. Curren,
Buddha's Not Smiling, 3.
-
59. Curren,
Buddha's Not Smiling, 13 and 138.
-
60. Curren,
Buddha's Not Smiling, 21.
-
61. Curren,
Buddha's Not Smiling, passim. For books that are
favorable toward the Karmapa appointed by the Dalai Lama's
faction, see Lea Terhune, Karmapa of Tibet: The Politics of
Reincarnation (Wisdom Publications, 2004); Gaby Naher,
Wrestling the Dragon (Rider 2004); Mick Brown, The Dance of
17 Lives (Bloomsbury 2004).
-
-
63. Kim Lewis,
correspondence to me, 15 July 2004.
-
64. Kim Lewis,
correspondence to me, 16 July 2004.
-
65. Ma Jian, Stick
Out Your Tongue (Farrar, Straus & Giroux, 2006).
-
-
67. San Francisco
Chronicle, 9 January 2007.
-
68. "China: Global
Warming to Cause Food Shortages,"ť People's Weekly World,
13 January 2007
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