by Anita Katyal lately in Tibet
Known for its remoteness and inaccessibility, the mystical and mysterious land of towering Buddhist monastaries and robed lamas, Tibet today stands on the cusp of change. Described as the roof of the world and perched at an altitude of 3,600 metres above sea level, the Tibetan capital Lhasa is no longer an unattainable destination and certainly not immune from the frenetic pace of modernity.
Further change is on the anvil with the arrival of the year-old Qinghai-Tibet railway, an engineering marvel which cuts through the Kunlun mountains and promises to open up this old historical state to the rest of the world.
As it happens, Lhasa today presents a typical picture of tradition and modernity and continuity and change. The awesome white and yellow 13-storey Potala Palace, once the winter palace of the Dalai Lama and now a world heritage site, is a constant reminder of Tibet’s unique culture and identity.
But the brightly-lit new television tower in the background and the modern monument, commemorating 50 years of the “peaceful liberation” of Tibet, located just opposite the famed Potala Palace, are key pointers to the future path being charted out by the dominant Chinese population for the Buddhist Shangri-La.
The same juxtaposition of the old and the new, past and future, can be witnessed in the orderly row of obviously newly-built houses, the neat rows of glitzy stores, internet cafes, shopping malls, karaoke bars and restaurants which suddenly give way to poorer neighbourhoods selling Tibetan artefacts and trinkets.
The presence of Baku-clad women and maroon-robed lamas, twirling their prayer wheels and prostrating before the Potala Palace and the famed seventh-century Jokhang Temple, suggests that Tibetan culture and identity has not been completely wiped out despite the vice-like grip of the Han Chinese on this region.
But conversations with the local Tibetans tell a different story. Given their affinity with Indians, they do not shy away from expressing their apprehension and anger over the growing attempts by the Han Chinese to keep them confined to the margins and gradually reduce them to a minority in their own homeland.
Whether it is Dolma or Tikila or Tashi, they will all tell you that the development of world-class infrastructure and a booming economy has not brought them any real happiness. “What is the point when you cannot speak and move about freely,” remarked a young Tibetan girl, pointing to the constant discrimination they have to endure at the hands of the growing numbers of Chinese who control the levers of power and economy.
The Dalai Lama, according to them, is persona non grata in Tibet and nobody is allowed to keep his photograph in their homes though most of them do so secretly as he remains their revered guru. Given half a chance, most Tibetans here would sell all their belongings for one “darshan” of the Dalai Lama but they are unable to travel to India as passports are not easily issued by the Chinese authorities.
When I asked a young, friendly Tibetan shopkeeper if she had such a picture in her house and if she would like to see him, her demeanor immediately underwent a change. “Who are you and why are you asking these questions,” she asked suspiciously and quickly turned her back on me.
Since Tibetan is taught as a second language, the local Tibetans here are forced to study Chinese if they wish to acquire skills which will open up employment avenues for them. Parents wishing to educate their children in the Tibetan language smuggle them out to India to enable them to study in the schools run by the “Tibet government in exile” in Dharamshala.
Ask any Tibetan about how the new train will change their lives and the spontaneous response is: “More Chinese”. Though these fears are understandably not being voiced openly, Tibetans are worried the train will only facilitate the movement of more outsiders (read Chinese) into Tibet who are better educated and will, therefore, end up grabbing the bulk of jobs.
The introduction of the train and plans to extend the road and rail network further in Tibet, is believed to be part of a larger Chinese strategy to exploit this region’s rich mineral wealth. Besides, it has also fuelled fears that the influx of people will adversely impact the Tibetan plateau’s pristine environment and hurt the cultural identity of its people.
On the flip side, it is argued, the train has not only brought in more people but also provided access to more information and cheaper goods. According to Ma Zhidie, vice-editor-in-chief, Tibet Daily, there has been a 70 per cent increase in tourist arrivals since the train was flagged off last July. This, he said, has proved to be a boon to the economy with tourism revenue touching a high of half a billion dollars. As for fears that the Tibetans would loose their unique cultural identity, Ma said this was incorrect as local people were now getting an opportunity to showcase their culture before the visitors through live performances.
“In any case, we cannot remain frozen in time…we have to change with the times,” said a young Tibetan shopkeeper, who decided to return to Lhasa from India because of the better economic opportunities here. But this was clearly a minority view.
