Hope, Fear, Defiance Permeate Lhasa Monasteries : Tibet’s Monks Battle China’s Hold

The maroon-robed Buddhist monk vented his anger at China as he walked beside a foreign visitor up a dusty hillside path to Drepung Monastery.

“Most of the monks are good, but a few are bad and do what the Chinese say,” the young man said.

As he spoke, a man in civilian clothes--who could have been a plainclothes policeman--passed by. Apprehension flashed across the monk’s face. “Will the police take your notebook away?” he asked. “If they do, they may arrest me.”

Reassured that the risk was small, the monk kept on talking. “Before 1959, there were 7,700 monks here,” he said, recalling the time when Drepung may have been the largest monastery in the world. “Now there are only about 300.”

His tone wistful, he added: “When will Tibet be independent?”

An explosive mixture of hope, anger, fear and defiance permeates Lhasa area monasteries, where nationalistic monks have become an unpredictable force battling to pry Tibet from China’s grasp.

China hopes to cool this fervor by allowing religious activity and promoting economic development, even as it bans advocacy of Tibetan independence.

But three times in the past 17 months, monks have led major pro-independence demonstrations, each of which ended with police firing on marchers. Six to 14 people were believed to have died in the first incident, on Oct. 1, 1987. At least eight died in rioting last March 5. The third protest, on Dec. 10, left at least one monk dead.

Next month could bring more trouble. March is the 30th anniversary of an abortive anti-Chinese uprising that resulted in the Dalai Lama, traditionally Tibet’s religious and political leader, fleeing to exile in India. Authorities fear the anniversary may bring an outburst of anti-Chinese sentiment.

Lhasa Celebration Canceled

Authorities canceled Lhasa’s celebration of Monlam Chenmo, an annual festival that would have been held this month at Jokhang Temple. Last year, the celebration ended with the March 5 rioting.

The official reason for cancellation was the Jan. 28 death from a heart attack of the Panchen Lama, the second-ranking leader of Tibetan Buddhism. But monks interviewed in Lhasa before his death, including the young Drepung monk, said monastic leaders already had decided they did not want to hold the festival this year.

Many monks viewed the event, reinstated in 1986 after being banned for 20 years, as an attempt by China to present a false image of religious freedom in Tibet.

“They say they’ve given us religious freedom, but actually, they haven’t,” said a monk at Sera Monastery, on the outskirts of Lhasa. Some monks said that if they attended the festival, they would use it to stage pro-independence protests, regardless of the danger. More than a dozen monks, asked about the event, said they feared that if it were held, police would end up shooting at them.

Tibet was part of the Chinese empire under the Qing Dynasty but enjoyed de facto independence from 1911 to 1951. China now treats advocacy of Tibetan independence as treason.

Events in Tibet have repercussions far beyond the region. Allegations of human rights abuses have prompted expressions of concern by Congress and U.S. diplomats. China views such comments as interference in its internal affairs. Tibet remains a major irritant in Sino-American relations.

A modest religious revival over the past decade is meant to improve China’s international image and ease the bitterness felt by many Tibetans over destruction of monasteries and suppression of Tibetan culture, which was most severe from 1959 through 1976.

Ordinary Tibetans have resumed traditional religious activities, and novice monks are once again studying Buddhist scriptures.

But religion and Tibetan nationalism are inextricably linked. Almost by definition, the Dalai Lama, as both a spiritual and temporal leader, combines religion and politics. Thus, continuing confrontation in Tibet is virtually inevitable.

In its attempts to bring stability to the region, China had placed great hopes on the Panchen Lama, who endorsed the view that Tibet is part of China. His death last month deprived China of the one person who commanded respect among Tibetans and yet strongly opposed independence.

The rebirth of monastic life in the Lhasa area, the traditional stronghold of the Dalai Lama, has provided pro-independence activists with their strongest base. But China’s current policy has come closer to success at some other monasteries.

Tashilhunpo Monastery, located in Xigaze, was the traditional base for the Panchen Lama and his predecessors. In an apparent reward for the Panchen Lama’s pro-Chinese stance, Tashilhunpo has been permitted in recent years to take in at least 700 monks, more than any other monastery in Tibet.

Some Tibetans in Lhasa look down on the monks of Tashilhunpo as lacking determination to push for independence. In the Chinese view, however, this means they are patriotic and law-abiding citizens.

The trust that Chinese authorities have in the monks of this monastery was demonstrated this month when the New China News Agency reported that the Monlam Chenmo festival, traditionally held in Lhasa, was not being canceled totally but would instead be held at Tashilhunpo.

Regardless of the political overtones, serious religious learning has resumed at Tashilhunpo and various other monasteries.

Youths such as Sonam Phontsog, 11, a peasant boy who went to Tashilhunpo to enter the monkhood, have begun rigorous courses of study.

“My parents sent me,” Sonam said during a break in a scripture recitation class in a dark, unheated second-floor room at the monastery. “I wanted to come. I wanted to study Buddhism.”

Sonam is one of 18 boys who will spend mornings, afternoons and evenings for two years reciting and memorizing scripture under the instruction of Gunsang Tsonpa, a 69-year-old monk who entered Tashilhunpo when he was 8. The monastery has more than 100 youths in such classes. They can become monks after this two-year introductory course, which is devoted almost entirely to memorizing 134 pages of a basic Buddhist text.

“After they become monks, it is explained to them,” Tsonpa said. “This is the way of Tibetan education. If they haven’t memorized it, explaining it to them is pointless.”

During the most severe repression of Tibetan Buddhism, under the 1966-1976 Cultural Revolution, monks at Tashilhunpo had to dig wells and repair pigpens.

This chaotic period saw the destruction of thousands of small monasteries and village shrines across the Tibetan plateau.

Nyimatundub, a peasant interviewed in his home in the village of Gyentse a few miles outside Xigaze, said that during the Cultural Revolution, Tibetan youths organized into brigades of Red Guards had razed a small monastery and a smaller convent not far from the village. A hilltop shrine in Gyentse, where passers-by could place brightly colored prayer flags, also was destroyed.

The village’s 5-foot-tall shrine was rebuilt about eight years ago. It supports tree branches that hold red, yellow and white cloth flags imprinted with prayers and pictures of “flying horses” that carry the prayers to heaven. Such shrines now stand again near virtually every village in Tibet, as well as atop mountains and hillsides wherever a trail or road crosses a pass.

The small countryside monastery and convent have not been rebuilt, however, and there is no indication that they will be. Only a few hundred such religious centers have been restored. When one drives across the dusty gravel roads of the plateau, stark ruins on mountainsides serve as reminders of how much was destroyed.