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.
When Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) sits down with US President Donald Trump in Beijing on Thursday next week, Xi is unlikely to demand a dramatic public betrayal of Taiwan. He does not need to. Beijing’s preferred victory is smaller, quieter and in some ways far more dangerous: a subtle shift in American wording that appears technical, but carries major strategic meaning. The ask is simple: replace the longstanding US formulation that Washington “does not support Taiwan independence” with a harder one — that Washington “opposes” Taiwan independence. One word changes; a deterrence structure built over decades begins to shift.
Taipei is facing a severe rat infestation, and the city government is reportedly considering large-scale use of rodenticides as its primary control measure. However, this move could trigger an ecological disaster, including mass deaths of birds of prey. In the past, black kites, relatives of eagles, took more than three decades to return to the skies above the Taipei Basin. Taiwan’s black kite population was nearly wiped out by the combined effects of habitat destruction, pesticides and rodenticides. By 1992, fewer than 200 black kites remained on the island. Fortunately, thanks to more than 30 years of collective effort to preserve their remaining
After Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) Chairwoman Cheng Li-wun (鄭麗文) met Chinese President Xi Jinping (習近平) in Beijing, most headlines referred to her as the leader of the opposition in Taiwan. Is she really, though? Being the chairwoman of the KMT does not automatically translate into being the leader of the opposition in the sense that most foreign readers would understand it. “Leader of the opposition” is a very British term. It applies to the Westminster system of parliamentary democracy, and to some extent, to other democracies. If you look at the UK right now, Conservative Party head Kemi Badenoch is
A Pale View of Hills, a movie released last year, follows the story of a Japanese woman from Nagasaki who moved to Britain in the 1950s with her British husband and daughter from a previous marriage. The daughter was born at a time when memories of the US atomic bombing of Nagasaki during World War II and anxiety over the effects of nuclear radiation still haunted the community. It is a reflection on the legacy of the local and national trauma of the bombing that ended the period of Japanese militarism. A central theme of the movie is the need, at
RSS