RAVI BHOOTHALINGAM

I

A Harmonious Society

In October 2006, at the sixth plenum of the Chinese Communist Party’s central committee, China formally unveiled its vision to build a harmonious society by the year 2020. According to China’s premier, Wen Jiabao, key features of such a society would be “democracy, rule of law, equity, justice, sincerity, amity and vitality”. The goals for 2020 are certainly ambitious – apart from a comprehensive economic, political and social development agenda, the long list concludes with: “guaranteeing respect for people’s rights and interests…the ecological environment visibly improved, further progress in fostering a sound moral atmosphere and harmonious interpersonal relationships, enhanced creativity of society as a whole

and the development of an innovation1

based nation”.

This agenda represents recognition by China’s top leadership that over two decades of unprecedented rapid economic growth have yet to deliver anything close to a harmonious society. Of course, poverty stands sharply reduced, and China is today an emerging economic superpower. But all this has come with serious costs – growing income disparities, regional imbalances, social unrest, corrupt local leaders unfettered by the rule of law, and a highly degraded environment. If these challenges are not met, the Communist Party’s legitimacy to rule may be called into question. The “mandate of heaven” is at risk. Hence, the party’s adoption of a radical reform programme that even envisions a gradual process of widening democratic elections and greater freedom of expression to the media.

All this requires a careful management of reform on multiple fronts. Judging the right speed of movement is critical. If liberalisation is too fast, there is the danger of “chaos and disorder”, a primal fear of loss of control present in China’s rulers over the course of history. But if reforms are not in step with public expectations, another kind of disorder might well bring about the demise of communist rule. So a high order of governing capability is required to execute this risky balancing act.

A Harmonious World

Some of the risks, though, could be managed if China were to create around herself a benign external environment, and thus focus on her internal challenges without distraction from external threats.

This was the premise underlying the doctrine of “China’s peaceful rise”, which sought to project China’s growing share in the world economy and geopolitics as a venture conducted in peaceful partnership with other nations. The example of Japan’s aggressive militarism of the early 20th century was very much in the Chinese mind while undertaking this formulation. China’s vision of a harmonious world2 is diametrically opposed to Huntington’s doctrine of “the clash of civilisations”. It calls for inclusiveness, recognising the interdependence of nations, and for mutual learning from the great diversity of human experience, with each country dealing with others on the basis of trust and fairness. However, articulating such visions of a harmonious society and world have their own consequences. They create expectations that will hold China to quite different, and higher, levels of conduct in her future actions. The first such test case might well be the question of Tibet, personified over the last few decades by the Dalai Lama.

The Tibetan Question

The world has lived with the Tibet issue since 1950, when troops of the newly declared People’s Republic of China marched into Tibet, accomplishing its “peaceful liberation”. For China, this was an act to liberate Tibet from centuries of theocratic feudal despotism, and reunite her with the motherland of which she was an inalienable part, as cited by historical record. To the Tibetans, it was an act of aggression on “a country” that, again citing historical record, had always been politically independent of the Chinese state as well as culturally distinct from it. The rest of the world watched, made some sympathetic noises, but largely accepted the Chinese fait accompli, even when the Dalai Lama fled Tibet in 1959 and was granted refuge in India a long with thousands of his compatriots. The impasse continued for the next three decades, with the exiled Tibetans demanding independence for Tibet, and China equally vehemently asserting Tibet’s status as an integral part of the country.

In 1987, addressing the US Congressional Human Rights Caucus in Washington, the

Economic and Political Weekly August 18, 2007 Dalai Lama spelt out his five-point peace plan for Tibet. In this he contemplated:

In subsequent statements at Strasbourg the following year, and later, the Dalai Lama clarified the last point: he was seeking “genuine autonomy” for Tibet within the ambit of the Chinese state, not independence, since his principal concern was survival of the Tibetan culture, religion and way of life.4 This represented a major change in the Tibetan position, and was not an easy decision for the Dalai Lama to take. However, this formulation followed Deng Xiao Ping’s response in 1979, to a representative of the Dalai Lama, that “anything short of independence” regarding Tibet could be discussed across the table. During the next 10 years, there were some informal exchanges of views between Beijing and the Dalai Lama’s emissary. However, these discussions broke down in the aftermath of rioting in Lhasa in 1988, which the Chinese suspected had been instigated by Dharamsala, and after the events in Tiananmen Square the next year, there followed a decade during which Tibet took a back seat in Chinese affairs of state.

In 1998, the Clinton administration strongly urged Beijing to talk to the Dalai Lama. The world at large holds the Dalai Lama in great respect and admiration as an enlightened human being and religious leader – one who has unswervingly held on to his Buddhist convictions, whilst seeking a solution to the dispute entirely through non-violent means. This global stature of the Dalai Lama, and the resulting continuous international interest in Tibet, was undoubtedly a major factor in persuading Beijing to resume discussions with a group of his representatives. Finally in 2002, six months after the cataclysm of September 11, 2001 the talks resumed. Since then, there have been five rounds of discussions, but progress has been slow.

Tibet and the Theory of Harmony

This brief account of the ups-and-downs of the Tibetan question indicates the “trust gap” that still needs to be bridged between the parties, in view of their recent bitter history. Indeed, there is a strong “realist” school of thought in China that favours continuing the talks purely as a cosmetic exercise, until the inevitable demise of the Dalai Lama. China’s official stance remains that there is simply no Tibet problem. From the legal and juridical point of view, Tibet is squarely a part of China, and has been recognised as such by all the nations of the world. The Tibetan government-in-exile is not recognised by the world, and no nation would support coercive action or sanctions against China to compel her to grant independence to Tibet. Without the Dalai Lama’s charismatic personality (so goes the calculation), the international Tibet movement would lose momentum and finally fizzle out. Meanwhile, Tibet itself would experience further growth in the economic, social and political fields. So why take a chance and accept another set of conditions (that a Tibetan settlement would entail), over and above the already strenuous agenda contemplated under the “harmonious” reforms?

The impact of China’s new philosophy on this “realpolitik” line of thought seems threefold. First: is time really on China’s side in the Tibet issue? After the Dalai Lama leaves the scene, it is possible that a faction amongst the exiled leadership might call for Tibetan independence through violent means. The repressive measures that the Chinese state would then need to employ, and the consequent repercussions in Tibet and elsewhere, would result in major loss of face and public image for a China which has journeyed a long way since Tiananmen Square. Second: if China faltered in managing its own multidimensional internal reforms, the resulting instability could prompt a Tibetan breakout. Such scenarios have formed a recurring pattern in Chinese history, and cannot be therefore dismissed out of hand.

Lastly, to a China that considers herself a shaper of a future harmonious world, world opinion and public approbation have begun to matter. No longer is China an outcaste nation, shunned by the United Nations and the WTO, and militantly propagating a revolutionary Maoist ethic. The dragon that once spewed fire now wishes to be seen as the friendly neighbouring “Puff, the Magic Dragon”. China is exposed to world media today as never before. The World Tourism Organisation estimates that 100 million Chinese tourists will travel overseas by 2020, and a similar

How Might a Settlement Look?

If the argument so far holds good, a willingness on both sides to negotiate purposefully and in good faith will not be a wasted exercise. But two crucial preconditions must be fulfilled, and these relate more to states of mind rather than to the substance of the dispute. The first is not to be held hostage by history, or rather by the interpretation that each side has of it. The second is to ascertain the “dealbreaking point” of each party, and to stop just short of it. Let us try and summarise the “deal-breakers” for each of the parties. For China, any arrangement for Tibet must clearly conform to Deng’s “anything short of independence”. Further, the mode of its implementation should not threaten the survival of the Communist Party. For the Dalai Lama, the survival and prosperity of the Tibetan people, culture, religion and way of life would be the supreme consideration. In harmonising both these goals, the negotiators face a challenge of “lateral thinking”.

Such thinking requires bold as well as intuitive leadership. A good example is Deng Xiao Ping’s innovation of the “one country, two systems” formula to resolve the Hong Kong problem with Britain in 1997. Deng saw that the commercial and economic value of Hong Kong would be vital for China’s future. At the same time, Hong Kong’s vitality would be sapped under a communist system. Yet, how could the red flag not fly atop the ramparts of government house? “One country, two systems” addressed all three concerns with a piece of lateral thinking redolent with ‘yin-yang’ symbolism. It represented a workable formula, and also one in conformance with the Chinese spirit. Since then, Taiwan has been offered a similar proposal.5

The example should not be stretched too far. Taiwan remains outside the effective control of the People’s Republic, as was Hong Kong until 1997. So Deng’s formula could be interpreted as an ingenious, though necessary, concession to entice these erstwhile parts of the motherland to return to the fold. Tibet, though, has been squarely part of China for over half a century, and so any change in its governance status could have repercussions elsewhere, say in Xinjiang. Certainly, these arguments would resonate in other large, diverse nations such as Russia and India, which are struggling with their own share of ethnic and regional issues. But at the same time, the fundamental premise of “one country two systems” is that, within one country, with all its consequent implications of absolute integrity and sovereignty, two systems can prevail. And if two, why not three, or even four? Also, in the case of Tibet, there is a unique precedent. In 1951, after China’s successful campaign in Tibet, a “17-point Agreement” was concluded between China’s central government and “the local government of Tibet”, wherein Tibet’s then existing cultural, social and political arrangements, including the status of the Dalai Lama, were guaranteed. This unusual intra-nation agreement signified, at the very least, that China was prepared to treat Tibet as a special entity quite distinctive from its other provinces.

Let us now look at the specific points in the Dalai Lama’s five-point agenda. What does ‘autonomy’ mean? Various types of autonomy have been mentioned from time to time in the China-Dalai Lama discourse. They include “autonomy” as presently practised within the Tibet Autonomous Region (TAR), the Dalai Lama’s “genuine autonomy” and even occasional mention of “high-level autonomy” (referring to the Hong Kong model). In addition, there is China’s Regional Ethnic Autonomy Law (REAL), the basis for the governance of China’s autonomous regions, prefectures and counties. As it reads, REAL is an extraordinarily liberal piece of legislation conferring wide-ranging selfgoverning powers. An autonomous region such as the TAR can override the laws made by “a higher organ of state” by reference to “a higher authority”. Many laws such as those governing working hours, holidays, marriage, the one-child policy, rural education, use of the local language, etc, in TAR are more generous in comparison with those in metropolitan regions. Barry Sautman of the Hong Kong University of Science and Technology, an accomplished scholar in this area, holds that China’s REAL fulfils the minimum conditions for autonomy even by global standards.6 For this reason, China bridles at the mention of “genuine autonomy” for Tibet, since she holds that this is already the existing position.

At the same time, REAL has real problems in implementation. “Higher authority” means the party, and the overall framework of a rule of law with an independent judiciary to which the party will defer, is yet to evolve in China. Sautman says that even REAL is not enough to counter separatist feelings and to address the widening gap between Tibetans and the rest of China in terms of living standards.7 This requires special measures and a possible negotiating space lies in this area. On the one hand, autonomous decisionmaking, if defined only as western-style multiparty elections for top positions, will

Economic and Political Weekly August 18, 2007 be opposed by China. But what can be put on the table is this: a gradually widening circle of local elections (already in place), and the implementation of a legal process and rule of law to address inequity and effectively implement the provisions of existing law. It may be useful to introduce a form of ombudsman-cum-appeals tribunal to resolve issues between citizen and the party. This can draw upon the uniquely Tibetan experience of party, village community and monastery working together in the elected village council, extending it in stages to higher levels of governance and hierarchical authority.

Still, the Chinese need to be more sensitive to local feelings regarding Tibetan culture, religion and practice. Tibetans such as Phungtso Wangye8 who have lived in China since the 17-Point Agreement, and also Chinese writer Wang Lixiong9 agree that the Chinese have been taken in by the superficial stability in Tibet, and that an approach focusing solely on economic development is futile. A deeper appreciation of what Buddhism means for Tibetan identity has escaped them. Although there has been physical restoration of Buddhist monasteries destroyed during the cultural revolution, and religious freedom has been guaranteed, the Chinese have not realised that the élan vital of Tibetan Buddhism and hence the Tibetan identity remains linked to the person of the Dalai Lama. Similarly, they have misread Tibetan devotion to the Dalai Lama, undimmed in the TAR after nearly 50 years, as simplistic “splittism”. Lixiong believes strongly that China must negotiate seriously with the Dalai Lama if it is to retain Tibet in its fold even in the long term. Colin Mackerras,10 in turn, points out that a high proportion of Chinese human rights abuses documented in the Tibet pertain to the Tibetan monastic community. Here, the Communist Party’s Tibetan cadres, driven by vested interest, may be responsible for an overreaction to any behaviour that they perceive as separatist. Harsh denunciation of the Dalai Lama, and punishing any display of his photographs, is counterproductive to China’s own case. Han migration into Tibet:This is a complex issue, fraught with emotion on all sides. For a start, there are wildly different figures of the Chinese (Han) population in Tibet. It all depends on whether one includes the People’s Liberation Army (PLA), Han migrant labour on three-year work contracts, Hans declaring Tibet as their address so as to get higher pension benefits, how Tibet is defined, and so on. The Chinese figures based on their 2000 Census show a total population of 2.6 million for the TAR, of which 8 per cent are non-Tibetan. The exiles state that in 1985 there were already 1.7 million Chinese in the TAR. Mackerras (op cit) has done a detailed study of the population statistics. He concludes that figures quoted by both sides suffer from political manipulation, but the exiles’ statistic is “greatly exaggerated”. Han people are highly concentrated in the urban areas, and consist of more itinerant traders and entrepreneurs keen to exploit the new economic opportunities in Tibet. But, whatever the truth, at the core lies the conflict between the needs of development and the perceived threat to identity, of being “swamped” by outsiders.

People in India are familiar with such sentiments. Consider a situation where a middle school in rural Tibet has to recruit a chemistry teacher. The candidates are

(a) a Han from Shanghai, (b) an “expatriate” Tibetan from Beijing, and (c) a local Tibetan. If the Han is the most qualified, the expatriate next and the Tibetan the least, one has a situation of “merit” vs backwardness, very similar to the “reservations” dilemma in India. Clearly, a ban on migration per se would be as disastrous for development in Tibet as it would be in India. Ironically, not too long ago, strict controls on rural Chinese moving into cities were condemned as violative of human rights. Still, unrestricted inflows, let alone planned mass transfers of Hans, would be a recipe for major unrest in Tibet. Empowered and elected local communities like village councils are best placed to decide how many and who to import, for what jobs, and when.

Greater Tibet: A core element of the Dalai Lama’s proposal seeks the administrative unification of all the Tibetan-inhabited cultural areas. These include those presently incorporated in the TAR, and others in autonomous prefectures and counties in the provinces of Qinghai, Gansu, Sichuan and Yunnan. It is to this ‘Chulkha-sum’ or historical Tibet that “genuine autonomy” as earlier discussed is sought to apply. For China, this would be problematic. Even without going into historical analysis – whether and when the erstwhile Lhasa government actually had control of these areas – we must note that other non-Han minorities also live in these provinces. Any future agreement that seeks to create modifications in the “autonomy” applicable to TAR could always be extended to these regions without too much difficulty. Finally, people of Tibetan ethnicity and culture also live in the parts of India, Nepal and Bhutan that abut Tibet. Surely, they are outside the purview of this dispute. So, if the goal is to preserve the culture, religion, prosperity and way of life of the Tibetan people, creating a Chulkha-sum through a wholesale upheaval in the entire region’s administrative structure seems unnecessary. Not only that, it also adds fuel to those who see in this demand a “splittist” plot to subvert China’s territorial integrity. Demilitarisation and denuclearisation: The Dalai Lama himself has mentioned in a recent press report that this is more of a personal dream for him rather than a precondition for talks with China. It is indeed a noble thought, and one hopes that in future both disarmament and denuclearisation will spread globally. The roof of the world would be a good place to start, but while the idea will be

Economic and Political Weekly August 18, 2007

heartily welcomed by India, it is not a starter just yet. Protection of Tibet’s natural environment: This is a cause where there will be complete alignment of interest between China, the people of Tibet, and the world at large. With the problems of global warming and climate change coming to the fore, the conservation of the Himalayan environment, and the development of Tibet without damage to its fragile ecology, is critical. Nine great river systems of Asia originate in the Tibetan highlands. China and many other Asian countries would feel the adverse impact of glacial retreat or reduction in water flows. Indeed, lower riparian countries may well be nervous about whether China’s own water management plans would affect them adversely. So, the best outcome of a China-Dalai Lama deal could be, in the true spirit of a harmonious world, a global scientific endeavour to create an eco-developmental plan for the entire Himalayan region. Such a deal should be encouraged, if only for this important reason.

What Is the Bottom Line?

An agreement between China and the Dalai Lama on these lines will not be easy. Hopefully, this essay demonstrates that it is still both possible and desirable. To make it happen, both sides should focus on the following:

From all parties, magnanimity and forward-thinking are the needs of the hour. To inspire such an attitude, let us at this point attempt a glimpse into a possible harmonious future as well as listen to an invocation of the past.

As China modernises, she faces several challenges. Disparities are increasing between eastern and western China, and between urban and rural areas, giving rise to social tensions. Corruption is a big problem. Market socialism increasingly looks like rampant capitalism. People seem to be motivated by money and money alone. While such problems exist in other developing countries as well, the Chinese case is different. During the chaotic years of the cultural revolution, an entire generation of Chinese people lost touch with their rich civilisation. By that time, the idealism and zeal of early Maoism had dissipated. The great philosophies of Confucianism, Taoism and Buddhism, with their strong ethical perspectives on the purpose of life, and harmony with society and nature, stood neglected. These traditions help people remember that life is more than the purely economic, thus providing a welcome and necessary balance. When such traditional values are absent or weakened, not only is it difficult to resist some of the unhappy consequences of rapid economic growth, it could also be positively dangerous.

The Chinese government itself has recognised this fact. At the 16th National Peoples’ Congress in 2002, a unique resolution was adopted stating that China’s goal is the material, political, cultural, environmental and spiritual development (emphasis added) of her people. Such a statement in a government document is unusual anywhere, let alone that of a government ruled by a Communist Party! It reflects the realisation amongst the top leadership that an unbalanced growth that damages environmental, social or human assets, is worthless in the long run. China has since seen a revival of its rich and ancient philosophies, seeking to reinterpret Confucius, Laozi and Buddha as relevant to modern times, without giving way to ritual or superstition. Thus, scientific and economic progress would go hand in hand with equity and human development. When this happens, China will truly be a harmonious society.

Tibet’s greatest asset is its day-to-day living practice of Vajrayana Buddhism – a robust discipline and source of practical wisdom in terms of meditational exercises, medicine, physical and mental stamina, and environment-friendly living. An accord with the Dalai Lama will revitalise its practice and provide connectivity with the entire world. Today, scientists warn us of climate change and the environmental distress arising from indiscriminate growth, and advise us to mend our ways. The traditional “middle path” way of life of Tibet provides an example. Tibet can demonstrate this way to the rest of China, and indeed to the world, by leading a spiritual and environmental renaissance. Not everyone needs to believe in Tibetan Buddhism. The very fact that a spiritual tradition can help people make better choices in their lives will empower people to handle social change and personal turmoil more effectively.

The resolution of the Tibetan question in this way also seems apposite from the viewpoint of history. Ever since Kublai Khan became the emperor of China in the 13th century AD, Tibet has provided spiritual leadership to the Chinese emperors. Tibetan spiritual leaders like the Sakya Lamas and later the Dalai Lamas, were conferred titles such as ‘guoshi’ (national teacher) or ‘tishi’ (imperial teacher) by the emperor who, in turn, promised to protect Tibet. This “patron-priest” relationship was very difficult for the west to understand, for it did not fit into the standard diplomatic categories. But for Indians, it is easy. We too have the concept of the raja and the ‘rajaguru’, and examples in our history of the harmonious partnership between political and spiritual power. The retrieval of this missing connection will be crucial in China’s quest for harmony in the years ahead. To do so, she must seize the hour, and conclude an agreement with the Dalai Lama that will set an example in creating a harmonious world.

EPW

Email: sush.ravi@gmail.com

Notes

[My grateful thanks to Shankar Acharya, Mira Sinha Bhattacharjea and Siripurapu Kesava Rao for having patiently read through the draft of this article. Their suggestions were both valuable and perceptive. Responsibility for the views expressed, and for any omissions or errors, remains entirely mine.]

1 China Daily, October 29, 2006. Report of the Resolution adopted on October 11, 2006 at the Sixth Plenum.

2 Speech of president Hu Jintao of China at the 60th meeting of the United Nations, September 16, 2005.

3 Tsering Shakya, The Dragon in the Land of

Snow, pp 415. 4 Ibid, pp 423, and subsequent pages. 5 People’s Daily, March 24, 2001. Text of speech

of Qian Qichen on China-US relations.

6 Barry Sautman, Tibet and the Question of Genuine Autonomy, Abstracts of the 2000 AAS Annual Meeting, March 9, 2000.

7 Ibid. 8 Quoted by Reuters March 7, 2007 and reported on www.phayul.com. 9 Wang Lixiong, New Left Review 14, March-April 2002.

10 Colin Mackerras, People’s Republic of China: A Background Paper on the Situation of the Tibetan Population, February 2005, a study commissioned by the United Nations High Commissioner for refugees.

Economic and Political Weekly August 18, 2007