In Exile From the Land of Snows (69 page)

Now another point. Tibetans drink tea that is thickly brewed with butter, but the ration of butter given out is very small, completely insufficient to make ordinary butter tea. Therefore, they put a tiny portion of butter, a pinch, in the cup. Also, as you might know, Tibetans are big meat eaters. We are very fond of it. In the past, meat was always available. Now, they can only get meat on Tibetan New Years and the first of October, the anniversary of the founding of the People’s Republic. So, on only two or three occasions a year do they get meat. In some places, like Kham,
¹²
it is even worse. One man from that area, who usually lives in Peking, had one of his children visit his birthplace. According to what he said to someone, who in turn told me, that place had plenty of meat in the past. Now, the father is a Communist, a Tibetan Communist. The son stayed there one year. During the entire year he didn’t see one piece of meat. This is the son of a party member. The father had already joined the Chinese Communist Party in the early 1930s. Until 1957 he was one of the main Tibetan Communists who were working with the Chinese. This person is one of my best friends. In 1954 to 1955, when I was in Peking, most of the time when I met Mao Zedong and other Chinese
dignitaries this person was my interpreter. I trusted him. Though he was a Communist, he was a patriotic Tibetan. He was supposed to remain in Tibet permanently, but one day he came to see me. He told me that he had received a telegram from Peking saying that he was to immediately return there. After some time the main Chinese representative stationed in Tibet told me at a meeting that this person was a very bad element: nasty, narrow, and nationalistic. He committed many crimes—such as trying to establish a Tibetan Communist Party. “Now he will never come back,” he said. So he disappeared in ’57. For the past twenty-three years, I have been worried about him. Just a short time ago, though, I was told that he is in Peking. That is his story.

Now education. In central Tibet, two or three years back, we heard on Radio Lhasa propaganda that there were more than three thousand primary schools and a few middle schools. Recently, the Chinese said that there are six thousand primary schools in central Tibet. No doubt there are several thousand. The real standard of education, though, is very, very low. This is obvious. In China, itself, the standard of education is not very high. In the past two or three decades there has been more emphasis on ideology than on education. So you see, with minorities like the Tibetans, there is no question that the standard of education is low. Furthermore, the Chinese place major emphasis on learning Chinese rather than Tibetan. Tibetan is taught, but primarily Chinese. The period of real study is very brief. Mainly the children are forced to labor, killing mosquitoes and rats. They are sent out after just a short study period, and the rest of the time they are used as workers. The food conditions for school boys and girls are also bad. In many cases, particularly in rural areas, they are made to bring their food from home, where it is very scarce. Now in Lhasa, in a certain middle school, there are Chinese children. This is the type of place where it is supposed to be better, but here the food for Tibetan and Chinese children is separate. There are two categories: one is called bread eaters, the other, rice eaters. The Chinese belong to the rice eaters kitchen, the Tibetans to the other. The quality of the food of the rice eaters is very good, certainly better than that of the bread eaters. In the morning, the Chinese children get hot water to wash their faces with, the Tibetans, cold. This I have heard directly from a teacher who taught in that school for three years and escaped to India. She told me this story. Among the teachers, again the Tibetans get less pay, the Chinese, more. Near Lhasa—in a school east of it—the Tibetan students have been getting stale or rotten food for the past few years. Due to that food, most of the students got very sick. Many of them have said that they never want to be born again in such a place.
Also, during the Cultural Revolution, the Chinese attempted to restructure all of Tibetan grammar. They made some really stupid changes. Most often, what they wrote is absolutely unintelligible.

Now health. There are many clinics. There are also the famous barefoot doctors. One good thing is that the Chinese respect traditional Tibetan medicine. They have actually built factories to make Tibetan medicine—one near Shigatse, one in the Khombo area in southeastern Tibet by the Indian border. They have also pursued some serious research in Tibetan medicine. This is very good, but the actual health conditions among the masses are different. The real benefit they get from these health centers is very little. Not much. There are clear indications of this. For instance, when someone enters a hospital, they are told that they need a blood test. Under the name of a blood test the Chinese take one, two, three large bottles of blood. Once the person leaves the clinic, he or she gets no medication or treatment. Perhaps one day they are free not to work and on some occasions, they will get a single egg. This is the situation. A group of foreign journalists visited Tibet recently and noticed how poor the health of the children in Lhasa is. Lhasa is supposed to be the best place in the whole country.

Communications. There are many good roads, a few airfields, some buses, some Russian-made jeeps, and some Japanese Toyotas; but mostly these are used by Chinese civilian and military officials—or certain Tibetans who are authorized to use them. The people—our people—are still walking wherever they have to go, using their legs. Perhaps because the roads are better now, there is less wear on their shoes. (laughter) There are serious restrictions as well. There is no question that one cannot go from village to village. Lhasa, itself, is divided into four sections. Without permission, a person in the southern section cannot go to the northern part. Now recently this sort of restriction has slightly eased. It seems a little change is occurring. Still, we are not at all satisfied. Also you might know that they have just changed the head of the so-called Tibetan Autonomous Region, the leader. The new person is a Tibetan, which the Chinese make a big point of for propaganda purposes. This person is called Tien Bao by the Chinese; in Tibetan, Sangay Yeshi. His choice is supposed to show the world that the leadership is in the hands of the Tibetans. Actually, I knew this person very well. He is a very good man, a very nice man, but unfortunately, when we spoke we needed an interpreter. He didn’t speak Tibetan. When he was a very small boy, he was taken by the Red Army during their Long March. He was from then on completely cut off from any contact with Tibetans. His wife is Chinese. He spent his entire life in the Red Army. Personally, he is very
nice, very simple, kindhearted, humble. When you speak Tibetan to him, he would even feel embarrassed and blush.

JA: Perhaps we can talk a bit about the situation in India. Since coming into exile, you’ve made a concerted effort to establish a more representative, democratic form of government than in the past. What do you feel is the correct balance between majority decision and your particular right as Dalai Lama to choose what is best for your people?

DL: They work together. Though there are some complaints, some criticism, it is all right. Criticism is a healthy sign. Without it, like the Chinese—in the mouth, no criticism, but in the heart, criticism—it is no good. Open, outspoken criticism is very good. Generally, in the past twenty years, we have managed quite well. There are deputies who are elected by the people. The final approval of them is mine. The People’s Deputies, who are elected in exile, only have authority from those in exile. The Dalai Lama, however, is someone who can represent all six million Tibetans. So you see, my approval of them is beneficial. It gives weight or authority to them. Also, the overall situation is that it is not our own country we are living in. It is a very, very peculiar circumstance. Under these conditions we must take every precaution. Now in most cases, if there are several candidates, I approve those who have had the highest votes. Suppose, however, there is a person who I feel cannot correctly handle the responsibility. I then have the authority to choose someone else. So far, I think this system has worked very well. It, itself, has gone through several changes. Now, besides the actual participation of the People’s Deputies in the work of governing, the process of electing them—voting itself—is training for our people. How to select; how to vote. Sometimes they become very confused. (laughter) This is important though. In the future we must go this way. In some cases, because this is new to the Tibetans, they mark the wrong name; they don’t know who to choose (laughter), and so on, but it is very important to learn.

JA: What do you imagine as the ideal form of government for Tibet’s future?

DL: That is difficult to say. At least in India we have prepared some sort of situation for the future of Tibet according to our own draft constitution. We practice according to that as much as we can in a foreign land. In the future, from our side, we will be making some kind of presentation to our people inside. Now you see, we will discuss it, but the ultimate decision will be made by the Tibetans who are inside and have been for the last twenty years—whenever that time comes. Those people have really suffered. At least we are quite free, but they have really suffered. All credit goes to them. Because of their determination, we are
inspired to work. For various reasons, the ultimate decision lies in their hands, not mine. Whatever governmental and economic system we will adopt will be entirely up to them. The Tibetan people, the younger Tibetans in particular, have gone through tremendous difficulties and have gained good experience. I am quite sure they will take the right path.

JA: I know it is hard to say at this point, but under what conditions would you go back to Tibet?

DL: My general explanation—our general aim—is that the people be happy. Now that is the main point. In detail, I don’t want to say at the moment—and it is difficult to say. At the moment there is no question of returning. First, things must change inside; then, we’ll see.

JA: What do you specifically mean by happiness of the people?

DL: For the last thirty years, irrespective of the difference in classes, whether people are rich or poor, old or young, the majority have not been happy or satisfied. So first, this must be changed. So it is quite difficult.…

JA: Can you define the difference between an autonomous Tibet and an independent Tibet?

DL: I’ll just repeat that the main objective is the happiness of our people, the maximum benefit for our people. Besides that, I’m not going to say any particular word. More time should pass, then we will see.

JA: Why at this particular time, after twenty-one years of no official contact, has the Tibetan government in exile sent a delegation to visit Tibet?

DL: Because of the Chinese attitude. Their overall attitude has changed, so we took this opportunity to send a delegation for our own people to look.

JA: Some Tibetans still hope to take their country back by force. Can violence and religious views ever work together?

DL: They can be combined. It depends on the motivation and the result. With a good motivation and result, and if under the circumstances there is no other alternative, then violence is permissible.

JA: Can you elaborate?

DL: A good motive means doing it for the benefit of the majority of the people. But now, here you see, regarding the Tibetan question, a military movement would be suicidal.

JA: Because of the overwhelming strength of the Chinese?

DL: Oh, yes.

JA: So you would discourage others from this stand?

DL: Sometimes a militant attitude or idea is helpful to maintain morale. In certain ways this idea is helpful, but I don’t think it is feasible to actually take part in a military movement.

JA: Now that you have toured America, do you see any scope for making more public appearances than in the past?

DL: I don’t know. I haven’t given any thought to it. These days, I’ve intensified studying my own Buddhist philosophy … not world politics. (laughter) Naturally, as a result of my visit, more Americans will be interested in the Tibetan affair. Perhaps the papers in America might take up the Tibetan issue a little more. The more people who know the true situation in Tibet, the more difficult it will be for the Chinese to ignore the awareness of the world’s people. Although there may not be any immediate or direct result, it will have this benefit in the long run.

JA: Many people have expressed a desire for you, as a religious leader, to contribute a spiritual perspective to the global situation. If you felt that people could benefit, would you pursue it?

DL: If it’s going to be of any benefit, certainly—most definitely. I would be willing to contribute as much as I can. I have had this intention for many years as a Buddhist monk. It’s not something special, particularly for someone who practices
bodhichitta
—altruism, compassion. Naturally, that feeling is there. In the future, also, anything I can contribute to the whole of mankind, as a human being, as a person who practices these things as a duty, a responsibility, of course I would.

JA: Other people have asked why you have been so isolated. They wonder why you haven’t been in the news more often
.

DL: I had been speaking on these lines, but not many people were taking an interest. When I went to Europe in 1973, the theme was the same, but there was more interest in the United States this time.

JA: Can you describe the relationship of religion to government in Tibet’s future? Is this something you have given thought to?

DL: This is complicated. When we say religion, the moral principle which is the essence of any religion, covers every field, including politics. I always say that the politician must have moral principles. So from that viewpoint, religion and politics go together. Without religion, politics might become something upon which nobody can rely, full of cunning and lies. If we are speaking about a religious institution, though, such as the church, then I think it should be separate. I discussed this at Harvard. Now about this. In the United States government, the state and church are separate—secular—yet when the president takes the oath of office, he holds the Bible and says the name of God. That shows that the head of state must be honest. When he takes the oath to carry out his duties in the office as truthfully and honestly as he can with God as his witness, this shows the moral principle in politics. If you mix an organized church with the state, however, there will be complications. Now here, about the
Dalai Lama. When I am in my own home, then whatever practice I want to do or whatever tradition I want to follow is in my own hands. When I come to my office, then I myself believe and act as though I belong to no particular sect, or tradition. This shows that there is some kind of a separation—although externally, some people might think that the two things function together, are combined. For example, the Fifth Dalai Lama, before he took temporal power, belonged to one monastery. Once he took the responsibility as head of state, then he acted as someone who belonged to the entire religion, not just one particular group.