LHASA, Tibet – China has undertaken extensive renovation of the Potala Palace, Lhasa’s most famous landmark, but foreign-based critics say it was being done for political reasons with scant concern for Tibetan sensitivities.
In front of the palace, the Shol district, until recently one of the Tibetan capital’s most intact assemblies of original architecture, is being completely revamped and more than 300 families have been relocated.
“The people will not be moved back,” said 64-year-old Qiangba Gesang, an ethnic Tibetan and a former monk who is now the administrative head of the palace. “If they did, it would endanger the security of the Potala Palace.”
The area is prone to sudden fires, and in future the complex will be used for exhibition halls and other official purposes, Lhasa officials said.
But advocates of the preservation of Tibet’s unique culture argue that the Shol area, with its up to 300-year-old barracks and stables, has a special significance for the common Tibetan that should not be ignored.
It acts as a painful reminder of recent history, given its location immediately to the south of the Potala Palace, the home of successive generations of Dalai Lamas until the current spiritual leader fled in 1959.
“Right at the feet of the Potala Palace, the Shol village has a very symbolic meaning to the Tibetans,” said Kate Saunders, the Washington-based spokeswoman for the International Campaign for Tibet.
The fate of the district also highlights the way Tibetans, under control by the Chinese for the past half century, are gradually being marginalized in their own home, according to Saunders.
“The Tibetan part of Lhasa is being squeezed into a smaller and smaller area,” she said. “Today less than two percent of Lhasa is original Tibetan architecture.”
The make-over of the Shol district is part of a 176-million-yuan (22-million-dollar) renovation scheme for the Potala area begun in 2002 and expected to be completed this year.
That will be almost in time for September 1 when Tibet marks the 40th anniversary of the decision to turn it into a so-called autonomous region of China.
The project, financed entirely by Chinese sources, employs 1,280 workers, 95 percent of them local Tibetans, according to Qiangba Gesang, the former monk. On top come 60 staff members engaged in routine repair work.
The renovation is not just for art’s sake, according to Thierry Dodin, the London-based director of the Tibet Information Network, recalling how earlier repair work on frescoes in the palace was carried out.
“They didn’t pick the frescoes that needed renovation the most. They picked the ones that could be used for propaganda purposes because they showed Tibet as a part of China,” he said.
“In China when they decide what gets renovated, they always, always choose what’s politically usable.”
Dodin agreed that over the years China has become a little better at protecting Tibet’s cultural treasures.
But, he said, it is just apologizing for the immense destruction that took place on its watch in previous decades.
“When they renovate, they simply make up for what they have neglected in the past,” he said.
During the Cultural Revolution from 1966 to 1976, crazed masses of mostly young people known as the Red Guards attacked monasteries and other symbols of Tibet’s past, erasing much of the country’s cultural heritage.
The Potala Palace escaped major destruction, allegedly because then-premier Zhou Enlai posted troops around it.
The religious complex of Jokhang 15 minutes’ walk away was not so lucky, and its priceless collections of statues and other forms of religious art was almost entirely desecrated.
The only thing left standing was the main building and a more than 2,000-year-old Buddha statue originally brought to Tibet by a Chinese princess. “Maybe they left the statue untouched because it was from China,” said a Jokhang monk.
