China Fire in a Snowy Land

By William E. Smith

"A spark has been set off. It is like a symptom of a disease. What has happened is due to the disaffection and suffering in Tibet. These things happened, and so the Chinese found a person to blame. They needed a scapegoat."

For more than a fortnight, his homeland had been torn by violent protest against its Chinese occupiers. Now, from his place of exile in Dharmsala, the Himalayan hill town in northern India where he has lived for most of the past 28 years, the Dalai Lama spoke. The spiritual leader of Tibetan Buddhism sought to explain the rioting that had rocked Lhasa, the Tibetan capital, on the other side of the Himalayas, and the harshness of the Chinese response. Inevitably, Peking blamed the Dalai Lama, 52, for instigating the demonstrations that inflamed his people both at home and in exile.

What sparked the flame in the so-called land of snows? It could have been the execution of two Tibetan nationalists by Chinese authorities in late September. Or perhaps it was the Dalai Lama's recent visit to the U.S., where he called for a withdrawal of Chinese forces from Tibet, as well as a greater degree of autonomy for his mountain realm. Late last month, in any case, 27 saffron-robed Tibetan monks were arrested for taking part in an anti-Chinese demonstration outside Lhasa's Jokhang Temple. Four days later a mob of 2,000 Tibetans gathered in central Lhasa, set fire to a police station and stoned the fire fighters who tried to put out the blaze. In the ensuing battle, at least eight Tibetans and six Chinese police were reported killed. Though the number of victims was relatively small, the rioting was the first in Lhasa in a decade and some of the worst since the Chinese crushed a widespread revolt in 1959, an event that led directly to the Dalai Lama's flight into exile.

The Reagan Administration, determined to encourage China to continue on its path of liberalization, backed Peking. After all, the State Department noted, the U.S. has recognized Chinese sovereignty over Tibet since the 1940s and in recent years has held that the Dalai Lama is purely a religious leader and not the head of a government in exile. At the same time, however, the U.S. Senate voted 98 to 0 to condemn China for its actions in Tibet. Moreover, the Senate decided that future sales of defense materiel to China should be contingent on assurances by the President of progress on human rights issues in Tibet. The Peking government, angered by the Senate action, accused the U.S. of interfering in China's affairs.

The trouble in Lhasa could hardly have come at a more awkward time for the Chinese leadership. Later this month the policies of Party Leader Deng Xiaoping will be reviewed at the 13th Congress of the Chinese Communist Party. Inevitably, the rioting in Tibet will strengthen the hand of critics who oppose Deng's liberalization efforts and believe the country has moved too quickly toward reform.

Partly for this reason, the Chinese cracked down on the unrest in Lhasa as quickly as they could, though they were somewhat inhibited by the presence of Western tourists. Early last week 35 Chinese police occupied the third floor of the Jokhang Temple. Loudspeakers ordered Tibetans not to engage in further protests. On Tuesday scores of monks were reportedly beaten with clubs and rifle butts after they attempted to stage a peaceful demonstration. On Wednesday, the 37th anniversary of the Chinese military takeover of Tibet, a 20-truck convoy carrying more than 300 policemen was seen in the streets of Lhasa. The show of power was effective: the city remained calm that day.

So far, more than 600 Tibetans have been rounded up by Chinese police. Every night authorities set up roadblocks at key intersections in Lhasa and check the identity papers of local travelers. During the day sound trucks patrol the streets, blaring propaganda messages against the protesters. On Friday a water truck hosed down the square in front of Jokhang Temple, breaking up knots of bystanders. Plainclothes police, walkie-talkies in hand, watched the scene from the roof of the temple, while two carloads of security officers stared at passersby. The mood was expectant, as if both sides were nervously awaiting the next chapter.

Later that day the government announced that all travelers, except those in tour groups, would be required to leave Tibet within seven days. Fifteen Western correspondents in Lhasa were expelled on 48 hours' notice, supposedly because they had failed to observe some of the government's regulations for journalists. When correspondents asked Yu Wuzhen, director of Tibet's foreign affairs office, why he had allowed himself to be interviewed by some of them a few days earlier if he felt they were operating improperly in Lhasa, Yu replied, "That's our business."

, Tibet poses a serious dilemma for the Chinese. Though they object to being characterized as an imperial or colonial power, they cling to Tibet, keeping some 200,000 troops there. More than twice the size of France and almost completely surrounded by mountains, Tibet is in effect a gigantic fortress that protects China from India. If the Chinese ever withdrew from Tibet, it might eventually prove irresistible to India or the Soviet Union.

After the Chinese invaded Tibet in 1950, they began a ruthless drive to dismantle the territory's ancient political and economic system, a form of feudal theocracy under which the arable land was owned by monasteries or nobles and the peasants were, at best, serfs. Nonetheless, the resistance to Chinese rule did not disappear; the people clung to their religious beliefs and remained loyal to the Dalai Lama. Meanwhile, the Chinese attempted to organize Tibet's goat and yak herders into collectives. They compelled farmers to raise grains other than the traditional barley but learned from bitter experience that some of these new crops were poorly suited to vast stretches of 15,000-ft.-high plateaus. Large numbers of Tibetans died in work camps. Thousands of monasteries were destroyed, particularly during China's Cultural Revolution of 1966-1976.

Seven years ago Hu Yaobang, the Chinese party leader, publicly apologized for his country's treatment of Tibet. The Chinese then began to build hospitals, schools and housing projects. They encouraged Chinese workers to move to Tibet, offering double pay, special grants and new apartments. According to Peking government statistics, the present population of Tibet is about 2 million, including 73,000 ethnic Chinese. Tibetan exile groups claim that the actual figures are far larger and that the indigenous population is being overwhelmed by the Chinese.

Tibet remains woefully underdeveloped, even by Chinese standards. Per capita annual income is about $110, less than half the average for China as a whole. The illiteracy rate is 70%, and the life expectancy of the average Tibetan is about 20 years less than that of the average Chinese.

Having long since recognized the Tibetans' stubborn resistance to change, the Chinese have tried repeatedly to talk the Dalai Lama into coming home on the theory that his presence would make the territory easier to control. So it might, but negotiations have broken down again and again over the Buddhist leader's demands for more regional autonomy, withdrawal of Chinese forces and recognition of his temporal authority.

At his press conference in Dharmsala last week, the Dalai Lama was cautious in his assessment of the present situation. He gave his blessing to civil disobedience but condemned violence. He refused to call for Tibetan independence, even though he has often done so in the past. He said he did not want to discourage his people, but neither did he want to sever his direct links with the Chinese. Said he: "My mind is open."

Even those gentle comments, as it turned out, were too much for his Indian hosts. At week's end officials in New Delhi reminded the Dalai Lama that, under the terms of the government's hospitality, he should continue to avoid all forms of political activity. Though he remains a god-king to his increasingly restive people, in exile he can be an occasionally embarrassing guest.

With reporting by Robert T. Grieves/Lhasa and K.K. Sharma/Dharmsala