As the 14th Dalai Lama approaches his 90th birthday, he has made a proclamation that reverberates far beyond the monastic halls of Dharamsala: His reincarnation would not be born in Tibet so long as it remains under Chinese rule. This is not merely a spiritual declaration — it is a geopolitical masterstroke that strikes at the heart of Beijing’s long-standing strategy to control Tibetan Buddhism from within.
The Dalai Lama’s announcement is a reaffirmation of Tibetan religious sovereignty and a pre-emptive strike against Chinese political theater. By declaring that his reincarnation would occur in exile and that only the Gaden Phodrang Trust — his official office — has the authority to recognize his successor, he has effectively delegitimized any attempt by Beijing to manufacture a puppet Dalai Lama within its borders.
This move is not without precedent. In 1995, the Dalai Lama recognized a young boy, Gedhun Choekyi Nyima, as the 11th Panchen Lama — only for the child to be abducted by Chinese authorities and replaced with a state-approved figure. That incident became a chilling reminder of how Beijing seeks to co-opt Tibetan spiritual institutions to consolidate its rule. The Dalai Lama’s current stance ensures that history would not repeat itself so easily.
China has long insisted that it alone has the authority to approve reincarnations of Tibetan lamas, citing an 18th century Qing Dynasty ritual involving a golden urn. However, this claim is as much about political control as it is about religious tradition. The Chinese Communist Party’s (CCP) goal is clear: To install a compliant Dalai Lama who would rubber-stamp Beijing’s policies in Tibet and neuter the global influence of the Tibetan cause.
By contrast, the Dalai Lama’s declaration recenters the process within the Tibetan Buddhist tradition and places it firmly outside the reach of the Chinese state. It also internationalizes the issue, drawing support from Buddhist communities across Mongolia, the Himalayas and even within China itself.
We are now heading toward a future with two Dalai Lamas: one chosen by Tibetan Buddhist leaders in exile and another anointed by the CCP. However, legitimacy cannot be manufactured. The Dalai Lama’s spiritual authority is not derived from political power, but from centuries of tradition, devotion and moral leadership. A Beijing-backed Dalai Lama might wear the robes, but he would not wear the trust of the Tibetan people.
This schism would not only deepen the divide between Tibetans and the Chinese state — it would also test the resolve of the international community. Will democratic nations recognize the reincarnation chosen by Tibetan Buddhists, or will they bow to Beijing’s narrative?
In essence, the Dalai Lama has built a spiritual firewall against authoritarian interference. His proclamation ensures that the soul of Tibetan Buddhism cannot be co-opted by a regime that seeks to erase its identity. It is a bold act of resistance cloaked in the language of faith — a reminder that even in exile, the Dalai Lama remains the unyielding heartbeat of people who refuse to forget who they are.
In doing so, he has not only safeguarded the future of his lineage, but also reignited the global conversation about Tibet’s right to self-determination — one reincarnation at a time.
Khedroob Thondup is a former member of the Tibetan parliament-in-exile.
Taiwan stands at the epicenter of a seismic shift that will determine the Indo-Pacific’s future security architecture. Whether deterrence prevails or collapses will reverberate far beyond the Taiwan Strait, fundamentally reshaping global power dynamics. The stakes could not be higher. Today, Taipei confronts an unprecedented convergence of threats from an increasingly muscular China that has intensified its multidimensional pressure campaign. Beijing’s strategy is comprehensive: military intimidation, diplomatic isolation, economic coercion, and sophisticated influence operations designed to fracture Taiwan’s democratic society from within. This challenge is magnified by Taiwan’s internal political divisions, which extend to fundamental questions about the island’s identity and future
The narrative surrounding Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s attendance at last week’s Shanghai Cooperation Organization (SCO) summit — where he held hands with Russian President Vladimir Putin and chatted amiably with Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) — was widely framed as a signal of Modi distancing himself from the US and edging closer to regional autocrats. It was depicted as Modi reacting to the levying of high US tariffs, burying the hatchet over border disputes with China, and heralding less engagement with the Quadrilateral Security dialogue (Quad) composed of the US, India, Japan and Australia. With Modi in China for the
The Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) has postponed its chairperson candidate registration for two weeks, and so far, nine people have announced their intention to run for chairperson, the most on record, with more expected to announce their campaign in the final days. On the evening of Aug. 23, shortly after seven KMT lawmakers survived recall votes, KMT Chairman Eric Chu (朱立倫) announced he would step down and urged Taichung Mayor Lu Shiow-yen (盧秀燕) to step in and lead the party back to power. Lu immediately ruled herself out the following day, leaving the subject in question. In the days that followed, several
The Jamestown Foundation last week published an article exposing Beijing’s oil rigs and other potential dual-use platforms in waters near Pratas Island (Dongsha Island, 東沙島). China’s activities there resembled what they did in the East China Sea, inside the exclusive economic zones of Japan and South Korea, as well as with other South China Sea claimants. However, the most surprising element of the report was that the authors’ government contacts and Jamestown’s own evinced little awareness of China’s activities. That Beijing’s testing of Taiwanese (and its allies) situational awareness seemingly went unnoticed strongly suggests the need for more intelligence. Taiwan’s naval
RSS