It may have been six decades since the Dalai Lama fled into exile, but in the isolated mountain hamlet where he was born, he remains very much on the minds of devotees and Chinese authorities alike.
On the northeastern edge of the Tibetan plateau, Taktser, in Qinghai Province, where the Dalai Lama was born in 1935 to parents who farmed buckwheat and barley, is a magnet to worshipers and foreign tourists — and security personnel.
During a recent Reuters visit to Taktser, known in Chinese as Hongya, police armed with automatic weapons blocked the winding road leading into the village of some 60 houses.
Photo: AP
Police and more than a dozen plain-clothed officials who declined to identify themselves refused Reuters entry, saying the village was private and not open to the public.
The Qinghai government and China’s State Council Information Office, which doubles as the Communist Party’s spokesman’s office, did not respond to requests for comment.
Beijing views the Nobel Peace Prize laureate as a dangerous separatist and has denounced the 83-year-old spiritual leader as a “wolf in monk’s robes.” The Dalai Lama denies espousing violence and says he only wants genuine autonomy for Tibet.
Many of China’s more than 6 million Tibetans still venerate the Dalai Lama, despite government prohibitions on displays of his picture or any public display of devotion.
This Sunday marks 60 years since the Dalai Lama, disguised as a soldier, fled the Potala Palace in Lhasa, the Tibetan capital, after rumors that Chinese troops were planning his abduction or assassination fomented an abortive popular uprising.
The Dalai Lama crossed into India two weeks later, and has not set foot in Tibet since.
Despite the passage of time, during sensitive political anniversaries China’s security apparatus routinely restricts access to the village where the Dalai Lama’s old family is located, behind a pair of wooden doors and high concrete walls.
‘IN YOUR HEART’
One 29-year-old Tibetan man in the largely ethnic Tibetan town of Rebkong, set in a precipitous valley in Qinghai with a large monastery adorned in rich colors, enthusiastically recounted his pilgrimage to Taktser years ago.
He said Tibetans were well aware of the upcoming 60th anniversary of the Dalai Lama’s exile, even if public commemorations of any sort were banned.
“You can only bury it in your heart, we just don’t speak about it,” he said, declining to be identified due to the sensitivity of the matter.
“We have no ability to go against politics, we can only just go with society.”
Born Lhamo Thondup, the Dalai Lama was just two years old when identified by a search party as the new incarnation of Tibet’s most important spiritual leader, and was whisked from the family home to live in Lhasa.
The anniversary of his escape over the mountains into exile in India is one of several politically sensitive dates in China this year, including the 30th anniversary of the crackdown on pro-democracy demonstrators in Tiananmen Square in June, that the ruling Communist Party wants to ensure passes without controversy.
Speaking on the sidelines of China’s annual meeting of parliament this month, Tibet’s Communist Party chief Wu Yingjie (吳英杰) said the Tibetan people felt greater affection toward the government than the Dalai Lama, who “hasn’t done a single good thing for the people of Tibet.”
As the Dalai Lama ages, many Tibetans fear that Beijing will simply appoint its own replacement.
The Dalai Lama has suggested that his incarnation might be found outside Chinese-controlled territory, or that the centuries-old Dalai Lama institution could die with him.
In late October of 1873 the government of Japan decided against sending a military expedition to Korea to force that nation to open trade relations. Across the government supporters of the expedition resigned immediately. The spectacle of revolt by disaffected samurai began to loom over Japanese politics. In January of 1874 disaffected samurai attacked a senior minister in Tokyo. A month later, a group of pro-Korea expedition and anti-foreign elements from Saga prefecture in Kyushu revolted, driven in part by high food prices stemming from poor harvests. Their leader, according to Edward Drea’s classic Japan’s Imperial Army, was a samurai
The following three paragraphs are just some of what the local Chinese-language press is reporting on breathlessly and following every twist and turn with the eagerness of a soap opera fan. For many English-language readers, it probably comes across as incomprehensibly opaque, so bear with me briefly dear reader: To the surprise of many, former pop singer and Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) ex-lawmaker Yu Tien (余天) of the Taiwan Normal Country Promotion Association (TNCPA) at the last minute dropped out of the running for committee chair of the DPP’s New Taipei City chapter, paving the way for DPP legislator Su
Located down a sideroad in old Wanhua District (萬華區), Waley Art (水谷藝術) has an established reputation for curating some of the more provocative indie art exhibitions in Taipei. And this month is no exception. Beyond the innocuous facade of a shophouse, the full three stories of the gallery space (including the basement) have been taken over by photographs, installation videos and abstract images courtesy of two creatives who hail from the opposite ends of the earth, Taiwan’s Hsu Yi-ting (許懿婷) and Germany’s Benjamin Janzen. “In 2019, I had an art residency in Europe,” Hsu says. “I met Benjamin in the lobby
It’s hard to know where to begin with Mark Tovell’s Taiwan: Roads Above the Clouds. Having published a travelogue myself, as well as having contributed to several guidebooks, at first glance Tovell’s book appears to inhabit a middle ground — the kind of hard-to-sell nowheresville publishers detest. Leaf through the pages and you’ll find them suffuse with the purple prose best associated with travel literature: “When the sun is low on a warm, clear morning, and with the heat already rising, we stand at the riverside bike path leading south from Sanxia’s old cobble streets.” Hardly the stuff of your