Former nomad Yanglo spent his youth tending yaks and sheep in the highlands of China’s Qinghai Province, but the Tibetan is now often found huddled over a sewing machine in his modest brick home about 160km away stitching sheepskin coats.
The 45-year-old was among tens of thousands of Tibetan nomads who resettled in rural townships in the early 2000s, wooed by financial compensation from a Chinese government keen to pull the region back from ecological disaster.
Yanglo, who makes traditional Tibetan clothing to supplement his income as a park ranger in the upper Yellow River basin, is a model resettler.
Illustration: Yusha
“I am used to it now, and I don’t plan to return to the grasslands,” Yanglo said as he worked at his electric sewing machine in a resettlement village on the outskirts of Madoi County, about 2,000km from Beijing.
That is fortunate for Yanglo, as the government plans to declare a 123,100km2 area of alpine grasslands, wetlands and lakes — roughly equivalent in size to England — as a national park by the end of next year.
That will officially block him and many other migrants from ever returning to their former pastoral life.
China says the relocations have been key to saving the grasslands and helping Tibetans escape from poverty, but there is international concern the drive is coming at too high a cost, including the loss of cultural traditions and communities.
The government was spurred into action at the turn of the century when the upper course of the Yellow River began drying up, depleted by agriculture, industrialization and mining. The 5,464km river even failed to reach the sea in some years.
NATURE RESERVE
Blaming global warming and overgrazing, China turned the upper basins of the Yangtze, the Lancang (the Mekong) and the Yellow rivers into a nature reserve known as Sanjiangyuan National Park.
The government has invested more than 18 billion yuan (US$2.53 billion) in conserving the local ecology since 2005, and plans to invest 900 million yuan this year.
The government gave families who were willing to move from the area tens of thousands of yuan each in one-off compensation payments and thousands more yuan in recurring subsidies for grain and fuel.
Almost 100,000 Tibetans have shifted to towns since 2005, according to state media.
Yanglo, who like some Tibetans goes by one name, left his home on the shores of Gyaring and Ngoring, a pair of high-altitude lakes near the headwaters of the Yellow River, in 2003.
Last year, he was given a brick house with a walled yard in a specially built village of about 1,000 homes.
There is little in Yanglo’s home to remind his family of their nomadic past. His three children were all born after he had left the grasslands.
“My children are too young to know the difference, so I’ve borrowed a few yaks and let my children milk them,” said Yanglo, speaking in Tibetan. “At least they can be near the animals.”
However, his biggest wish is for his children “to get a better education and acquire some culture” by assimilating further.
Ironically, that is what some human rights groups are worried about, fearing permanent mass migration will end a unique way of life.
For Tibetans, the natural world is more than a source of corporeal sustenance. It is also a spiritual landscape inhabited by deities and demons that demand respect and sacrifice.
LOSING KNOWLEDGE
Sonam Dargyal, who grew up in Lancang before becoming a physician in Yushu County, south of Madoi, has spent years collecting Tibetan folk tales, from stories of why a rock formation resembles a Buddha’s head to flying lamas with magical powers.
“If we don’t pass down these stories, future generations will have no knowledge of them,” he said. “Our folklore and our traditions will then be truly lost.”
Others warn that the inability of many of the nomads to adapt to life in the townships effectively leaves them in no-man’s land, culturally and socially, with many unable to communicate in Mandarin and lacking skills to widen their employment horizons.
“In the grasslands, they are free and they are self-assured,” said Meng Xiangjing (孟向京), a professor of population and development studies at Renmin University in Beijing.
To generate stable income, nomads are encouraged to explore work in areas such as scientific monitoring and ecological protection, as well as rural tourism and traditional handicraft production, Sanjiangyuan National Park administration bureau said in a faxed statement.
VOLUNTARY, BUT GUIDED
“In principle, there is no large-scale relocation of nomads,” the bureau said. “We respect the will of the herders and guide them to relocate voluntarily.”
Yet the creation of the national park effectively closes the door to return for anyone who lived within designated core zones, which comprise 75 percent of the park, where human activity is to be restricted and livestock herding banned.
Some herding families still reside in the core zones, according to some Tibetans whom reporters spoke to in the area, but they were unable to say whether or not the nomads are in the process of resettlement ahead of next year’s opening of the national park.
The bureau did not respond to a question about whether families remained in the core zones.
Tenzin, a nomad who tends a herd of yaks across thousands of hectares of grassland just outside the designated core zone of the national park, has resisted moving despite being given a house in Madoi County, which his younger daughters live in during school terms.
The 35-year-old, his wife and adolescent son, who spend their days herding and milking yaks and picking up slabs of yak dung for use as fuel, can stay put in the highlands for now.
However, Tenzin is uneasy about the future.
“I’ll be very sad if my son inherits the land to then give it up,” he said.
Additional reporting by Beijing newsroom
Could Asia be on the verge of a new wave of nuclear proliferation? A look back at the early history of the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO), which recently celebrated its 75th anniversary, illuminates some reasons for concern in the Indo-Pacific today. US Secretary of Defense Lloyd Austin recently described NATO as “the most powerful and successful alliance in history,” but the organization’s early years were not without challenges. At its inception, the signing of the North Atlantic Treaty marked a sea change in American strategic thinking. The United States had been intent on withdrawing from Europe in the years following
My wife and I spent the week in the interior of Taiwan where Shuyuan spent her childhood. In that town there is a street that functions as an open farmer’s market. Walk along that street, as Shuyuan did yesterday, and it is next to impossible to come home empty-handed. Some mangoes that looked vaguely like others we had seen around here ended up on our table. Shuyuan told how she had bought them from a little old farmer woman from the countryside who said the mangoes were from a very old tree she had on her property. The big surprise
Ursula K. le Guin in The Ones Who Walked Away from Omelas proposed a thought experiment of a utopian city whose existence depended on one child held captive in a dungeon. When taken to extremes, Le Guin suggests, utilitarian logic violates some of our deepest moral intuitions. Even the greatest social goods — peace, harmony and prosperity — are not worth the sacrifice of an innocent person. Former president Chen Shui-bian (陳水扁), since leaving office, has lived an odyssey that has brought him to lows like Le Guin’s dungeon. From late 2008 to 2015 he was imprisoned, much of this
The issue of China’s overcapacity has drawn greater global attention recently, with US Secretary of the Treasury Janet Yellen urging Beijing to address its excess production in key industries during her visit to China last week. Meanwhile in Brussels, European Commission President Ursula von der Leyen last week said that Europe must have a tough talk with China on its perceived overcapacity and unfair trade practices. The remarks by Yellen and Von der Leyen come as China’s economy is undergoing a painful transition. Beijing is trying to steer the world’s second-largest economy out of a COVID-19 slump, the property crisis and