Tibet is Not a “Cultural Experience”

The following guest post is by "Chiwa," a western woman who hopefully will become a regular contributor.

In college classrooms around the country, professors and administrators insist that Tibetan organizations (like their particular branches of Students for a Free Tibet) are not "aggressive" or "hostile", that they focus on "spreading awareness of the issues" and Tibetan culture rather than Tibetan politics.

Of course, it's really difficult to paint an accurate picture of what the "issues" are in Tibet when focusing on things like prayer flags, moos and the smiling, friendly face of His Holiness the XIV Dalai Lama. The word “Tibet” is, at its very nature, a polarizing word. “Tibet,” as the People’s Republic of China allows it to exist, is known as the Tibetan Autonomous Region, or TAR. The TAR was created in 1965.

The word "Tibet" is, at its very nature, a polarized word. "Tibet," as the People's Republic of China allows it to exist, is known as the Tibetan Autonomous Region, or TAR. The TAR was created in 1965.

In this illustration by the BBC, the Tibetan Autonomous Region is the very light beige area. The green line, extending into the Chinese provinces of Qinghai, Sichuan, and parts of Gansu and Yunnan, is often referred to as “historical” Tibet. In these areas, the vast majority of people are “ethnically” Tibetan.

In this illustration, the Chinese provinces are given alternate (and rightful) names— a majority of what is known as Qinghai is actually the Tibetan province of Amdo, and the Tibetan province of Kham exists in the Chinese province of Sichuan.

When the Yushu earthquake occurred in 2010 (om mani padme hum), there were many facts that were wrongly reported by the Western media—including the mislabeling of the victims as "Chinese."

The earthquake originated in what is known as the Yushu Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture, where, according to the Yushu Tibetan Autonomous Prefecture Statistics Bureau in 2005, 97.25% of the population is Tibetan, with the next largest ethnic group being Han at 2.56%. The vast majority of the victims were not Chinese—they were Tibetan (Khampa).

It’s hard to claim that you’re “spreading awareness about the issues” when the issues aren’t even being discussed. Another year passes and “Seven Years in Tibet” is screened again instead of more revolutionary material, such as Dhondup Wangchen’s film “Leaving Fear Behind”, for which he is still imprisoned.

Violently splitting Tibetan culture from Tibetan politics and the history of the Chinese invasion in order to make the truth taste a little sweeter, the tragedy a little less brutal, is an injustice. Maybe we think that if we don’t aggressively pursue the issue, we are more likely to arouse new supporters—and I will buy this to a certain extent, because the issues of Tibet are vast. The crimes committed against the Tibetan people are not merely religious or political in nature; their lifestyles are being forcibly changed, their land is being destroyed, and in exile they face numerous issues ranging from health issues to language and cultural barriers.

I’m not interested in a “cultural experience.” Stop trying to raise awareness about the culture, stop trying to keep the Tibetan culture alive—if you’re not a Tibetan, it is not your culture to save. We should be working with them, rather than touting their culture as something unique and on the verge of extinction so we should hurry up and see it while it lasts.

Painting Tibet as a “cultural experience” is serious erasure. The image of Tibet may never recover, if college administrators (and others) do everything in their power to deny the fact that “Tibet” is a political issue at its very heart.

“Twenty years ago, when the public didn’t know the first thing about Tibet, we used to pray and dream that somehow Tibet would become a household word. If people knew the truth, we believed, they would come forth and intervene. Tibet would be saved. Now Tibet was indeed a household word, but China had imposed its will, transformed it. Beyond our worst nightmares.” (one of the women in “Sky Train: Tibetan Women on the Edge of History” by Canyon Sam)

When Suffering is Not Enough

I've been struggling with this post for a long time. I hope that I'll be able to express myself properly on such a sensitive topic.

We've all heard the stories. Tibetans are imprisoned, brutally tortured, killed, all for peaceful expression of their religious, political or cultural desires. Yes, this is all true. This is what we tell people when we want them to understand how bad the situation is in Tibet. We name prisoners: Dondrup Wangchen, Rungye Adak, Tulku Tenzin Delek. We share the testimonies of brutal tortures experienced by the nuns of Drapchi prison, by Palden Gyatso, by Ama Adhe. And these stories are horrible. They are fodder for nightmares, tortures so brutal that it seems nearly impossible that human beings could willingly carry them out.

All of it is true. None of that is an exaggeration. However, it isn't the full story either. Suffering in Tibet is not limited to torture cells in prison.

I remember a few foreigners who've turned to me in shock when finding out that many Tibetans leave Tibet not fleeing torture or death, but for the sake of a better education. Their lives are not in danger, but they want the freedom to worship or speak their language as they please. I vividly recall one or two people who felt as though their trust had been betrayed. All of a sudden they felt that the situation in Tibet was not as bad as they had been led to believe. These people didn't really need to leave Tibet. Why were they asking for our help?

I was literally stunned into silence by that reaction. Why is their suffering not enough?

In Tibetan conversation, when someone mentions detention or imprisonment, one of the first questions asked is "Did the beat you?" It is not assumed. Many people are not beaten. Does that make their suffering worthless? I met a young woman recently from Yushu. She told me she lived down by GuChuSum, the Tibetan Political Prisoner's association in Dharamsala. I asked if she'd spent time in prison and she answered that she had spent one month. I asked if she'd been beaten. She said no, she hadn't been beaten. She had, however, spent an entire month in iron shackles. She had been underfed, to the point of starvation.

Other acquaintances were not held in prisons during their detentions, just in hotel rooms. None the less, they were under constant surveillance and denied sleep.

When Tibet supporters look at this as "not that bad" they are forgetting that we are talking about people being arrested for the most basic expression of their rights, or often for no reason at all except the suspicions of a paranoid government. They are denied access to people who can help them, and put into a position of constant fear. How is this not suffering?

A 2007 study, published by the journal The Archives of General Psychology found that mental torture and physical torture have the same psychological effects in the long run. Included in their definitions of psychological torture: sleep deprivation, threats of rape, and threats of family members being violently harmed. While the first two occur most commonly in detention situations, the last occurs in daily life for Tibetans who live in constant fear and under constant threat of the detention and abuse of their friends or family members.

And what of the majority of Tibetans who will never spend a substantial period (by which I mean more than 2 weeks) in detention? They still live in constant fear of when a detention might come, whether for a reason or not. They still cannot express their views, educate their children as they please, control their politics or even their economy. They have no rights.

By over-emphasizing the situation of Tibetan torture victims, we immunize ourselves and other potential activists against the horrific, yet less acute, forms of suffering endured by the general population.

It is time that we, supporters, stop thinking only about the minority who will suffer extreme brutality in prison, and pay attention to the vast majority of Tibetans who live with a constant level of suffering based on fear and a complete lack of freedoms. Their suffering is enough.

The Perils of Translation: Part 1

Translation and Tibetan language study seem to go hand in hand. In fact, I cannot seem to think of any other modern spoken language that if one chooses to study it, one will automatically be asked "Oh! So you are [or are planning to become] a translator!" In fact, the association between Tibetan language study and translation (of Buddhist texts in particular) is so strong that those of us who choose to pursue modern Tibetan are frequently hit with outright antagonism for our choice!

Us non-Dharma Tibetan students are frequently encouraged to do translation, which as Pongu noted in a previous post, seems to only mean Dharma translation. Strangely enough, work on translating modern texts, or using one's studies to write in Tibetan are considered worthless, but we'll talk about that another time (hence the "part 1.")

I have a problem with this. Don't get me wrong, I appreciate a good translation and the hard work that went into it, but I really don't like the ideas surrounding it. Why should anyone studying Tibetan automatically be assumed to be a translator? Well, statistically, there's a pretty good chance that they are. To me, that brings up a big issue. Tibetan is a living, modern language with more than eight millions speakers world wide, if one includes related dialects such as Balti and Ladakhi. Yet the modern spoken aspect of Tibetan is systematically ignored by many, if not most, people interested in learning Tibetan. Only the Dharma language is seen as worthwhile. It completely disregards modern Tibetan language, and with it, much of modern Tibetan culture.

What of modern Tibetan literature? Songs? Blogs? Autobiographies? When I mention translation of any of these, the idea is generally tossed aside as worthless.

I seriously ask the commenters here. Can you think of another language with millions of speakers and a vivid modern culture and literature scene where the modern language is outright ignored? Where only the classical language is considered worthwhile? I am really trying to think of one and I can't.

The second issue was pointed out be a commenter as well as several Tibetans I've spoken to. That's qualification for translation.

Virtually all of the primary texts in Buddhism have been translated already. That means the texts yet to be translated are either very new or very rare or very advanced. In short, if you've reached the level where you should be studying these texts (which, from a traditional study standpoint would probably include a minimum of 10 years in a shedra) then I certainly hope you would have picked up some Tibetan along the way.

This isn't to say all Tibetan Buddhists should learn Tibetan. By no means! But it means that if you are going to be studying these extremely advanced esoteric texts, you should have taken the many years necessary to study all of the primary texts, primary practices and so forth. Don't start decorating a house before you've built the foundation, as a friend of mine likes to say. If you are studying these texts, you should be under the guidance of a teacher, and if you are doing the years upon years of intensive study, then you are probably in a monastic environment, in which case, yes. You should learn Tibetan.

But it's more than just the linguistic knowledge of Tibetan. These texts are advanced. Throughout Tibetan history they would have been translated by khenpos, geshes, lamas who had studied Buddhism for most likely a bare minimum of 20 years of intensive study inside of a monastery or shedra. They would have learned all the primary texts and practices and likely studied and practiced this text before translating it.

Linguistic knowledge is not enough! In order to express the actual meaning of a complex Buddhist text, one needs to have a deep understanding of the Buddhist context. To paraphrase one person: "How do these kids who've studied for five years think that they can accurately translate the texts we take a lifetime to master?"

As another Tibetan friend expressed, it is cheapening the profound teachings and culture of Tibet.

And that's not helping anybody.

Setting a Low Bar

Tibet is a topic about which most Americans, and presumably most people world wide, are extremely ignorant. A recent religion poll showed that less than half of Americans knew what religion the Dalai Lama, who is currently in Washington DC, is. I've met American private school seniors who asked me whether Tibet was in Europe or Africa. I think it's safe to say that many, if not most, Americans could not find Tibet on an unmarked map or explain what "Free Tibet" means.

You won't find the invasion and occupation of Tibet in a high school World History textbook and, even at a large university, you will be lucky to find even one class about Tibet (although a Buddhism course will surely cover at least a little bit.) The resulting ignorance creates a glut of issues. From an information standpoint, the biggest issue is that the majority of non-Dharma Tibetan resources available to non-Tibetans (who do not speak Tibetan) are written by a very small number of people. The intentions of some of those people is enough for another post entirely, so I'll save it for later.

This wide spread ignorance has set the bar for knowledge incredibly low. Almost anyone who knows the basics of the Tibetan situation, or I should say almost anyone who seems to know the basics of the Tibetan situation, is practically an expert and can play themselves off as one.

However, many have spent very little time in Tibetan communities, can't speak Tibetan, and only have a knowledge based on hearsay or a bit of reading, and a good deal of misunderstanding.

I know because I was one. I hope I'm not any more, but I definitely was one just like this in the beginning. It's embarrassing for me to think back on it and the misunderstanding I propagated in others by saying things that I thought, based on my comparative knowledge, were true.

I don't think it's done out of bad intention or a desire to misrepresent, but just because the bar is set so low that almost anyone can be an "expert."

People with the best intentions, but very little knowledge, then try to educate the outside world about Tibet. I am the first to encourage telling your friends, co-workers and other acquaintances about Tibet, but a few people want to go far beyond that seeking to widely publish themselves.

I remember one book by a well intentioned, but poorly informed westerner which showed a photograph of a group of Tibetans walking past a mani pile (a pile of stones with prayers carved on them) but the author had labeled it as "a group of Tibetans walking past what are likely the ruins of a monastery." Many publish photographs or books with incorrect captions which sensationalize the issue. The Tibetan issue is serious enough as is, hyperbole is completely unnecessary. Beyond being unnecessary, it is detrimental to the Tibetan cause. When we use hyperbole, the Chinese authorities can accurately claim that we are quoting false "facts" and it is simply propaganda. Are these mistaken, exagerated "facts" closer to the truth than Chinese propaganda? It depends on the statement, but usually yes. But the world will not care, and will just look at it as those Free Tibet Hippies spouting bullshit. See? The Chinese are right, and they can prove it!

Another particularly memorable error I found in one of the few available Tibetan "resources" stated that the reincarnation system was created after a Tibetan king decided to become a monk, thus celibate and ending the royal lineage. In fact the reincarnation system was founded by the first Karmapa, Dusum Khyenpa, a monk, roughly 900 years ago as a way to carry on his religious teachings after his death. The Tibetan royal lineage is still alive and the current king, a direct descendent of Songtsan Gampo, is a teenager living in India.

No one has publicly called out this author. To make matters worse, since these self declared experts usually write based on sympathy towards the Tibetan cause, it adds a patina of disreputableness to any publication that sympathises with Tibetan people.

A good number of people decide that, with their newly found, limited, and often incorrect knowledge of the Tibetan issue, gained from a few weeks or months in India and a few books, they will make a documentary, publish a book, write a news article, or do something similar. Some write about their own experiences, in which case it is usually an accurate representation of what they saw, and I cannot complain. However, many decide that they want to expose the world to the Tibet issue, despite their lack of an understanding of Tibet themselves. They are blind leading the blind.

Many of these people may have spent years in refugee settlements in places like Dharamsala, but spend all their time around westerners or frequenting internet cafes instead of actually interacting with local people. Very few are willing to actually get their hands dirty or exit their comfort zones.

Am I missing something? I want to be told, if I am. But I just can't imagine that people who've never been to Darfur or spent copious amounts of time in a refugee camp, or at least worked for years with refugees and done a lot of research would decide to make a movie about Darfur to wake up the world. Am I wrong? Am I just expecting too much? I don't know.

I keep feeling like it's just another version of people who want to be white saviours, heroes, but as usual don't want to make any real commitment.

Frozen in Time

Frequently, during political discussions about Tibet, scholars especially will condemn the independent Tibetan government prior to 1959 as backwards and feudal. They may condemn current Chinese actions in Tibet, but will then follow that up by saying "If Tibet were still independent, they would be living in a feudal system, peasants controlled by landlords, and have no modern amenities or technologies. The Chinese government may be brutal, but they've brought Tibet into the 20th century! Look at the train, look at the roads." A similar argument comes from western Buddhists. A Tibetan commenter on "Incident at Gyuto" gave us a great example: While visiting Bodh Gaya, a western Buddhist nun, with a complete disregard for the feelings of the Tibetans around her, commented that it was good that Tibet was occupied, because otherwise Tibetan Buddhism would never have spread to the outside world.

Although seemingly different, these two ideas stem from the same viewpoint: Were it not for the Chinese occupation of Tibet, Tibet would have remained isolated. Nothing would have ever changed.

Before I begin my rant, I want to note that it is impossible to know what truly would have happened had the occupation never occurred. The best we can make are educated guesses.

That said, I think this view point is completely false. Why on earth should we assume that nothing would change over the course of 50-plus years? Tibet was already on the brink of change when the occupation started. The young Dalai Lama, rapidly approaching majority (the age at which he would take full political power), was interested in contacting the outside world. He wanted to bring democracy to his country. He had frequent contact with some of the foreigners residing in Lhasa, petitioned to statesmen abroad and had a great interest in the world outside of Tibet. It is safe to assume that, had Tibet retained independence and the Dalai Lama been allowed to attain majority as head of the Tibetan government, he would have pushed for a more open, democratic Tibet. In fact, when the Dalai Lama did attain majority and move the Tibetan government, one of his first moves was to declare the Tibetan National Government the only valid government of the people of Tibet and that this government was now a democracy.

In addition, with the British invasion of Tibet in 1911, the Chinese (even before the communist party) invading and encroaching on numerous areas of Eastern Tibet, the Russians sending in spies, India gaining independence and virtually every neighboring country shifting governments, it is unimaginable that Tibet would have been able to retain isolation.

Let's look at other countries. Prior to the mid 20th century, many countries around the world were in semi or complete isolation. For some, the isolation was due to a political choice, but for many others it was due to location or a lack of technology. Honestly, how many of these countries remain isolated now, in the 21st century? Even North Korea, the most self isolated, totalitarian and closed country in the world, has advanced technologically by leaps and bounds in the past 50 years. Remember, North Korea, unlike Tibet, is a country that desperately wants to remain isolated and is perfectly happy to oppress its own people.

How can we reasonably believe that Tibet would have remained the one exception in the entire world? The one country that, as all nations were swept forward in the technological and communication advances of the 20th century, would have remained stagnant in time? To believe that is to believe that Tibetans were too backwards to look towards the future.

As for the Buddhism comments, prior to 1959, the Dalai Lama had already travelled abroad to India at the invitation of the Indian government to go on pilgrimage and to celebrate the Buddha's birthday. He knew that there were Buddhists all over the world and many great masters of the past had travelled widely. I am sure that someone with as much drive as he had at such a young age, and still has at the age of 76, would have made every effort to travel abroad. Tibetan Buddhism, which had already been partially disseminated in the rest of the world prior to 1959, would have continued its spread when the Dalai Lama travelled. To believe that he would have been content to reside in the Potala for the rest of his life pays no attention to the kind of young man he was even before the Chinese ever came.

Cultures like Tibet are not quaint showcases in museums, perpetually remaining in one moment in time for others to ponder and exoticize. All cultures, Tibet included, live, change and grow. To assume otherwise is to disempower the people of those cultures.

Reckless Endangerment

A lot of people come to me, before traveling to Tibet, asking for advice. I speak Tibetan, I've been to Tibet several times, and I've traveled during politically sensitive times, so they usually come to me not asking so much for tourist advice as safety precautions.

My advice is usually pretty straightforward. As with all travel to sensitive or potentially dangerous areas, register in advance with your country's embassy. I usually give them a list of safety tips as well. But the most important tips that I give to everyone are:

1) Do not distribute anything widely.
2) Do not put yourself in the middle of a crowd.

The second tip is for personal safety measures. If something bad happens, you always want to be towards the edge of the crowd so you don't get swept up into it.

The first tip, however, is for everyone's safety.

A lot of people want to distribute photographs of the Dalai Lama, teachings from Lamas in India and so forth in Tibet. Yes, Tibetans do want these things, but the problem is that in that large group of Tibetans there is likely to be a bare minimum of one spy. In addition, if you are being trailed or watched, spies are likely far more interested in which Tibetans are accepting contraband, rather than the foolish tourist distributing it.

Nonetheless, every year, I see dozens of tourists proudly telling me how they were able to distribute so many photographs of the Dalai Lama and so forth inside of Tibet.

Some people go so far as to arrange video viewings in their hotel rooms of teachings from India. Many of these are from Lamas that are not officially blacklisted, but it's still something from India and arranging for a large group of Tibetans to come to your hotel room is probably not a good idea!

I remember one person proudly boasting how they had managed to destribute so many DVDs of a semi-black listed lama, and how people were so happy, and even Chinese came to take some! I had to wonder if, in all of this person's asking my advice about safety, they ever thought that maybe some of the people coming for the DVD might be just spying to see who was accepting it?

I think the motivation for many of these people, aside from sheer ignorance, is to be a hero. They never stop and think about the consequences that widely, openly, distributing something clearly illegal or dangerous poses to Tibetans around them.

As a tourist, we can go home after your few weeks in Tibet are up. After we are no longer watching, how many people will go to jail?

Helping people just like me

“I've been trying to get her to study dharma translation, so she could, you know, help people.”

I ran into a white American male, whom I'll call Chris, on a long bus ride in northern India. He recognized me through “Amy”, a friend of mine he knew and had seen me with, and he struck up the conversation with “You're Amy's friend, right?” I answered yes, and he went on to ask about our in-his-eyes-mutual friend, who's involved in many Tibet-related activities including language interpretation. I really hadn't been in contact with her much recently, and I found his interest rather uncomfortable, so after telling Chris she was busy organizing fundraisers for disaster relief (specifically the earthquake-devastated area of Jyekundo) in Tibet, I tried to steer the conversation in other directions.

Chris told me he's in India studying Tibetan to be a translator. When I asked what sort of translation he wanted to do, it was obvious that he didn't even think of the fact that there could be anything to translate except ancient texts; he responded as if I was asking whether he wanted to focus on translation or interpretation. I clarified, but he said he wasn't interested in “modern novels”. I really wasn't getting through to him that there could be things like newspapers, biographies, histories, blogs, political platforms, and so on written in Tibetan, but rather than push it, I left the issue alone. I let our conversation wander to other topics like language study, life in India, our hometowns – general small talk.

I can't remember how the following came up, but Chris had on-and-off been giving me the impression that he wanted to bring the topic of conversation back to my friend Amy. Eventually he mentioned something about her focus on modern issues and interpreting spoken Tibetan, responding to his own comments in disappointment: “I've been trying to get her to study dharma translation, so she could, you know, help people. It's such a shame.”

At this, I was shocked and furious. I couldn't believe he just said that. I tried to gather my thoughts for a few seconds before responding, but I just blurted out:

“Wait a minute. You mean, so she could help spoiled, privileged, pansy-ass white kids try to get enlightened?”

Had I thought about it a few seconds longer, I might have said, “Oh? Which people?” and made him do his own reasoning about how his comment was so problematic.

What made me furious was not his disparaging my friend, which is between the two of them and really none of my business. Rather, it was that pretty much everything I had said about Amy during our conversation was about her work for disaster relief, and Chris implied direct relief was worthless in comparison to expanding the volume of Tibetan religious texts accessible to an English-only audience. To me it felt like Chris's use of the word “people” was specifically excluding Tibetans and only including people like himself, whether that likeness was racial (white) or cultural (English-speaking Buddhists).

I really chewed him out, surely saying some problematic things myself in the process. I asked him if he had any idea what Tibetans had been doing in the earthquake zone, how all the monasteries had sent their monks as rescue and aid workers, and yelled at him to think about what practicing dharma means to them. I said something to the effect that outsiders who think they value Tibetan religion so much need to stop spending so much time studying books about it and watch how Tibetans practice. I asked him where the American dharma groups were during Hurricane Katrina (which, incidentally, affected non-white residents the most severely) to which he said he didn't know.

My emotional response went on for quite a while, expanding to my feeling that there are always outsiders wanting to get something out of Tibet for themselves and caring little for actual Tibetans. Chris didn't get openly hostile, and responded to most of my tirade not with arguments but with excuses and dismissals (derailment?). He “didn't realize how much” Amy was doing. “Both sides are important,” he stressed, referring to book-knowledge and action. He did listen, and I felt like I had some effect. He told me in his line of work, translation, it's easy to get caught up in thinking just about the people it's for. But he never apologized, and seemed to remain oblivious that he had actually done anything offensive. We parted as he got off the bus.

A couple days later I spoke with Amy. Chris had contacted her to complain about how “disrespectful” I'd been, and after calling him out again herself, she shared with me a lot of what he said. One thing I hadn't thought of when I accused Chris of ignoring Tibetans as “people” in his idea of “helping people” is that he might consider translating texts somehow helpful to Tibetans. He told Amy it was both preserving Tibetan Buddhist culture and drawing supporters to Tibet.

I'd welcome alternate opinions from readers, but as far as I can see, both of these claims are at best implausible, and rather oblivious to anything having to do with the real world.

Telling someone you're preserving Tibetan Buddhist culture by translating scriptures into English is a lot like telling someone you're preserving endangered species by putting animals in zoos. In a way both claims are true - if all animals in the wild were wiped out, or if Buddhism completely ceased to exist in Tibet, there would still be a few of the species left in zoos, and there would still be English translations of the scriptures on Western people's bookshelves. But in both cases, the “preservation” taking place is much more for the sake of somebody else who wants to observe and enjoy. And all too often, the atmosphere of scholarship and research on Tibet (as opposed to for Tibet) ends up manufacturing Western “experts” who get a lot more respect and recognition for their supposed knowledge of all things Tibetan than actual Tibetans with a lot more knowledge.

As for the idea that translating Tibetan scripture into English creates support for Tibet, it's just completely implausible. The sort of translation being done by Western scholars these days consists almost entirely of advanced texts, which would only be of interest to someone already familiar with Tibetan Buddhism. And there's a strong argument to be made that anyone who considers oneself to be at this level but who needs a translation for lack of Tibetan reading capability has their priorities backwards - but that's a topic for a completely different post.

There was one thing Chris said to Amy that made me feel like he'd at least gotten something out of our conversation: he said “I should think about benefiting Tibetans more.” But I still felt like he was more interested in justifying and exaggerating the importance of his work than pursuing any real benefit for Tibet.