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Two weeks ago on 26th March, two days before the Chinese President Hu Jintao was to arrive in Delhi, a 27-year-old Tibetan self-immolated at Jantar Mantar in the Indian capital. Jamphel Yeshi, the self-immolater had escaped from Tibet to India in 2006 and sought refuge in India.

Following the immolation, pictures of Jamphel Yeshi’s blazing body covered social networking sites, newspapers and the internet. For the first time, a Tibetan self-immolation made front-page in the international media including Indian newspapers even though thirty Tibetan men and women as young as eighteen-year-olds had sacrificed their bodies as burning lamps to carry out the message of their sufferings in Tibet before Jamphel.

Three more have self-immolated after him. Yet, hardly any attention has been paid by the international media to the videos, images and news filtering out of Tibet despite China’s strict censorship on the internet, phone lines and closing off of all ethnic Tibetan areas.

Trucks and trucks full of Chinese army enter Tibet every day.

Thirty-four “self-immolations in little more than a year is more rapid than the suicide-by-fire protests that punctuated the Vietnam War and the pro-democracy movement in South Korea,” writes Gillian Wong. However, the huge wave of self-immolations in Tibet is going hugely unnoticed mainly due to the Chinese crackdown in the region that prevents access to them.

China claims that Tibetans enjoy full religious freedom but frequent mass uprisings since 2008, and the wave of self-immolations after Tapey’s immolation in 2009, which is one of the biggest in history, speak otherwise. The unrest is actually far removed from the “Tibet Autonomous Region,” the area that China claims is ethnically Tibetan.

Amdo and Kham have been integrated into Han-dominated prefectures of Gansu, Qinghai, Yunan and Sichuan. Tibetans in Kham and Amdo are mostly pastors and nomads. These areas have been forced into mass “development” programmes by the government and the millennia-old source of their happiness and livelihood, the rolling pastures of the east, have been cordoned-off.

‘Development’ is what they have come to resent. In a large Tibetan family, two out of ten children would be monks or nuns. This huge part of the highly Tibetan population is being forced through “Patriotic Re-education Campaigns” to renounce their religion and His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama, the center of Tibetan Buddhist faith since centuries past.

Monasteries that once housed 3000-4000 monks now hold only 600-800 monks, and forced to renounce their vows by the Chinese government.

And yet, Beijing dares to boast of religious and cultural freedom in Tibet, dares to accuse His Holiness the Dalai Lama of instigating the uprisings and self-immolations. Instead of trying to solve the problem of the Tibetan minority and addressing their woes, China responds by tightening security, mobilizing a mass exodus of military into civil areas and intensifying its efforts to crush and snuff out the Tibetan culture, language, religion and the people.

Mr. Thubten Samphel of Tibet Policy Institute wrote, “When you run out of arguments, you resort to name-calling. China is doing just that. It compares His Holiness the Dalai Lama to Hitler… Mighty China, the next superpower, bristling with military hardware and awash in hard cash, equating a lone man who started the World War II… called…’a devil with a human face and the heart of a beast’. In terms of name-calling, you can’t rise higher or stoop lower than that… Did the Dalai Lama do long-distance hypnotism on these young, benighted souls? After more than 60 years of China’s ‘liberation’…why are individual Tibetans willing to make fiery sacrifices for the idea of freedom…? Deflection is an art. Reducing a serious problem to flippancy is another. The Chinese Communist Party excels at both. This art is also a sign of weakness. It means you’ve lost control.”

When Jamphel Yeshi self-immolated on the 26th, Tibetans in exile saw with their own eyes what exactly had happened to the thirty others before him who had set fire to their own bodies. Jamphel at least had people to take him to the hospital and try to save him. The martyrs in Tibet were in many cases beaten by the Chinese police even as their bodies burned and people screamed prayers all around them.

Many say that self-immolation is wrong, that it is a violent act that goes against Buddhism.

For a Buddhist though, burning one’s own body to is also seen as an act of absolutely selfless, powerful and desperate sacrifice and acceptance of the most extreme kind of pain for the good of others.

The young people who will never get back their lives did not want to die. They would have preferred to live but they were driven to such a drastic act because they needed to show the world what lies China had been spinning and they hoped to galvanize international support for Tibet.

We were all in anguish, shocked and in pain at what we had witnessed.

Tibetans rushed to the Chinese embassy in the Indian capital right after Jamphel was sent to the hospital, and were consequently arrested, about seven buses full of them taken toTihar jail, one of India’s strictest jails in the country. Restrictions were put against us under the Indian Foreign Act since the Indian government feared that our anger and protests would mar the first BRICS conference that India was to host.

It was understandable but it did not mean that we were going to sit quietly in our rooms with Delhi Police sealing us in while Hu Jintao, the person who had caused our people so much pain since 1989 came so near us. We just had to shame him into realizing that no matter where he went in the world or how long he lived, he had the blood of thousands of innocent Tibetans on his hands and had failed china as a leader.

An Indian man once implied to me in an argument that we Tibetans were ingrates who did not deserve India’s charity and another wrote that the younger Tibetan generation was no longer the “peaceful Tibetan of the few decades past, content to live on the leftovers of India.”

Many young Tibetans like me were born in India, as were my parents and most days we tend to forget that we are outsiders and refugees because this is the only home that we have ever known. We forget that we are homeless dependents living borrowed lived on borrowed soil and that a homeless might get shelter but he will never be one of the family.

We got news of Hu’s visit in February and started planning ahead to un-welcome him. We knew that this time, no matter what the consequences, we would protest against him. The whole week that Hu Jintao was here in the Indian capital city, and almost a month before that felt like a nightmare as we planned actions and protests and then as we had to find ways to actually carry out those plans despite heavy being under police surveillance. Every Tibetan who got arrested during Hu’s visit to Delhi knew that they would be arrested, get a few bruises and break a few laws in the actions against him. But we were determined. We felt in our hearts not the fear of imprisonment but the fear that the protests would be left incomplete and that Hu Jintao wouldn’t feel unwelcome enough.

In the face of all that had been happening, we knew that we Tibetans living outside Tibet had to be the voice of the Tibetans inside and show that we were together in this struggle.

No matter how big an action we took, our small problems could never compare to the sacrifices that our brothers and sisters living inside Tibet make every minute of their lives. We at least have a voice which they do not. In the process we might have over-imposed on our benefactors of over half a century but we could only hope that they would understand.

As we were being taken in the police jeep to the Lajpat Nagar Police Station for protesting in front of the Oberoi Hotel-hosting Hu Jintao, my only regret was that we couldn’t do something big enough that Hu Jintao would see and be ashamed of himself. A fellow protestor later told me that a person was filming our protest from one of the windows, just like they always do when we protest in front of the Chinese embassy.


SFT Kalsang

Tenzin Kalsang

 The Writer, Tenzin Kalsang is a student of English literature at Jesus and Mary College(University of Delhi), and presently volunteering as  the  Media and Info Coordinator at the Delhi Chapter of Students for a free Tibet..

Martyr Jamphel Yeshi ;

I am Hissay P Bhutia, and I have been living in Delhi for the last five years, working in the field of Human Development and Childhood Studies. As a part of my master’s research project, I have been visiting the small Tibetan settlement Majnu ka Tilla in Delhi, for data collection almost every single day.

I spent hours and hours sitting at the monastery, interviewing the people who sit and chat there. They used to ask me about my work, where do i come from, and so on. While there I enjoyed observing the children play and interacting with them. I believe everyone enjoys watching children play, and I could see people there not only observing them but playing along with them. “Children make you smile … no matter what you going through … they have the power to make you forget … ” as someone quoted. Being with them made me re-connect to my culture, which was missing for me.

I do not know exactly when I became a friend, a daughter, a member of this little community. Working with the children carried me into the depths of belongingness, and I no longer felt alienated from the world as I used to prior to my research work. I used to sit and observe children and people, to try to understand this rich culture, the people and their lives in exile.

There was a man who used to sit at the corner bench alone quite often, smiling at the children, and as I sat down with my usual writing stuff one day, he came and asked me the same question as everyone else: Where am I from and what am I writing on. I told him about my work and he said ” good luck” and “can I read it”. I was hesitant. I replied, maybe once I am done with the writing. He smiled, and then he left. (That was the shortest interaction I had during the research work).

On 26th March 2012, Monday morning, I went to Patel Chowk to see the protest. I was early that day (for the first time in my life). As I looked around I could see many protests going on. One caught my eyes was a group demanding “say no to Koodankulum Nuclear Plant.”

I started having a short talk with Mr Chitarang Singh, and we talked about my purpose of being there and his agenda. After a time he pointed behind me and said “they are here … your people.”

I turned around and saw hundreds of Tibetan men and women … boys and girls … mother and child … fathers and mothers and elderly people came marching. They were everywhere, carrying Tibet’s national flags and banners saying “Tibet is not a part of China” and “Freedom is Our Birthright”, so many that at times only flags and banners could be seen.

Three young men came, riding horses and decked out in traditional Tibetan clothes. I took out my camera and started to capture everything. I moved in with the crowd and became lost … lost, taking the pictures. Suddenly there was a sharp scream, and the crowd started moving in all directions. By that time my focus was interrupted and I turned around to see what it was. There was this man in flames … red hot flames covered his body and black smoke surrounded him. I stood there motionless, my index finger still on the button of my camera. As he ran screaming to my left, the crowd of photographers and media people ran together after him. The crowd moved me along until I took hold of a tree, frozen, trying to understand what just happened.

My friend returned and we stood there without a word. Finally he said “let’s go home.” I took three last pictures of the people. I saw a reporter crying, but I did not dare to go to console her. I couldn’t bring myself to say “It’s ok”, because what just happened was not “ok”.

Later that day I told my flat mate about the incident. Like everyone else, she found the act of self-immolation wrong and said this is mentioned in the Buddhist philosophy as well. It is morally and ethically considered wrong. I believe everyone is aware of this and I do not need to look into what philosophy says. But my only question is: What made him do it. What made all those 30 individuals in Tibet do it — to understand it, without judging he or they were wrong! (I am NOT encouraging the action here).

Three days later, I realised that the man who had wanted to see my writing at Majnu ka Tilla was the same man who set himself ablaze in the protest, Jamphel Yeshi. The man who sat alone, observed me writing, and wished me luck.

Yeshi, I wish I should have let you see what I was writing. Maybe you could have said something to me, that I could pass on now. Well, maybe we all can spread this issue world-wide and seek an answer to this 53-year struggle of identity, confusion, and social exclusion.

Let us not ignore the fact that Jamphel Yeshi did not burn only himself: what burned is the agony of every Tibetan…………

 

# Guest Article by : Hissay P Bhutia  Hissay

Hissay P Bhutia

Hissay P Bhutia is a student at Delhi University, pursuing her master’s degree in Human Development and Childhood Studies from Lady Irwin College. From Sikkim, Gangtok, she was born to a Tibetan mother and a Sikkimese father, and the current protest incidents have moved her studies in Human Rights for her Bachelor’s degree from theory to conviction and action. 

SFT Delhi candle light vigil

Geleck Khedup with the LAST TWO CANDLES...

There is a thing or two I must learn about living in a free state. The idea of freedom, which is as stale as can ever, be. It is the idea of belonging that haunts and most importantly further alienates. Today the very few that were gathered at the candle light vigil should be able to put the missing pieces of the jigsaw puzzle that its emancipation is often mistaken. I see the growth of it all when I listen. The smiles and giggles here and there would explain indifference or rather self-indulgence (I would rather call them lost). I would have to exclude the laughter and smirks of the passer-bys (as today I heard none). The girl sporting the black Team Tibet zipper clearly announced rather incoherently but audible even for the common jack requesting the people not to smile or laugh during the procession towards the Arts Faculty. Last year during a similar protest a group of young Tibetan enthusiasts rallied bare torso with fiery paint symbolizing the pain of the self-immolation we have been seeing lately. I heard some quips of laughter when these young men were trying out something radical something new. I’m nowhere near blaming anyone here. I wish it could be only vaguely depressing when I come across such things but they don’t!

 

The candle light walk ended quickly and vaporized into thin air like the fag end of winter approaching by. The main highlights would have been the chanting of prayers in Tibetan (none of which I can recite or even read).  I sheepishly walked along and a bit embarrassed of not being able to chant along. After two short announcements everyone dispersed leaving behind prayers behind who ended their lives with literally sparking up a revolution by burning themselves. Truly my heart goes out to all of them for what its worth. The last ones to leave were me my girlfriend and her sister who was glued on the phone. Just before leaving I found the guard blowing out all the candles. When he reached the fourth candle I asked him to stop. As much as my broken Hindi would allow me to express my annoyance, I did it with gusto! My girlfriend’s sister also chipped in a bit (her Hindi a bit superior to mine). At this point the guard said that he was given orders to blow out the candles. He seemed relentless at first but said if one of us would stay behind it would mean that the affair would be still considered to be on full swing. To humor him was the last thing on my mind but since I was waiting for a friend of mine I told him to bugger off and cockishly replied that I would stay till the candles burned out.

 

The wait was rather cold and chilly (not that I’m complaining). I began to contemplate and noticed that having chic looking Tibetan girls with knee high boots passing out flyers get more response. As anAspiring Tibetan my heart gets rather heavy after such meets. My thoughts and beliefs often get the better out of me and most of the times get frowned upon and sometimes near being disowned. There is an onslaught of something so bizarre and dysfunctional going on that not talking about would be criminal. Keeping my personal conflicts aside. After a half and hours wait and being treated to coffee and a late snack. I walked back to the Arts Faculty and asked my friend to click a picture of the last two candles that were still burning. Religious or non-religious the things and events have been talking place and the violation of all human rights in Tibet is simply wrong and unjust. I wonder if democracy here is a blur one can only imagine how things would be on the other side. Lives are precious to everyone…isn’t it!

With you Lakhpa and Samten I have seen your homeland.
I can picture the beautiful monastery at Lhasa,
I can see the white yaks,
I can view your flag flying on the snow capped mountain,
I am dreaming of you and I am feeling you.

Your land has also become a symbol of home for me.
In my dream I feel at home.
Oh how I am struck by the beauty of your land!
Oh my dear friends you have suffered a lot.

I can see your struggle in those old eyes.
In your eyes I can see your desire to go back to your home.
Who knows when will this walk begin for you?
Who knows when will these eyes see Lhasa again?
Till then let’s make Lhasa our own in our dreams.
Let’s make it Our dream.

-Trishma

Trishma SFT Delhi

I had the opportunity to attend the Indian Solidarity Evening at Jantar Mantar, on Sunday, May 14th, 2011.

I was incredibly moved and humbled to see the three Tibetan men, braving the sweltering heat of Delhi summer, sitting on their (then) 21st day of hunger strike.

The evening was a sombre occasion. There was an assorted crowd of students (both Indian and Tibetan), foreigners, activists, and curious people from all walks of life.

Crowd at the gathering

There were host of speakers who said a few words of support and solidarity. Someone read a poem, and another sang a song. Someone spoke in Hindi, and another in Tibetan. I felt very privileged to be able to speak on behalf of SFT Delhi, and voice my concern, and support for the three men, and their demands.

Candle Light Vigil

These men are : Kunchok Yangphel (finance secretary, TYC), Dhondup Ladhar (vice president, TYC) and Tenzin Norsang (joint secretary, TYC).

Three Brave Men

Today, they enter their 25th day on hunger strike.

~ Jyotsna Sarah George

Posted by High Peaks Pure Earth on Jan 12, 2011

High Peaks Pure Earth has translated a blogpost by Woeser that was originally written for broadcast on Radio Free Asia on January 5, 2011 and posted on her blog on January 10, 2011.

As reported on the Dalai Lama’s official website, the Dalai Lama participated in a video conference with Chinese human rights lawyers Jiang Tianyong and Teng Biao on January 4, 2011. Organised by Woeser’s husband Wang Lixiong, this video conference followed on from a series of Twitter conversations between the Dalai Lama and Chinese netizens that Wang Lixiong organised in 2010.

High Peaks Pure Earth has used the translation by Ragged Banner of Woeser’s poem “On the Road” that appeared in the volume “Tibet’s True Heart” and that she quotes in her article below, it is a poem that she wrote in Lhasa in May 1995. Follow this link to read the whole poem: http://raggedbanner.com/pOTR.html

It all started with a video conversation in cyberspace. On January 4, 2011, His Holiness was in Dharamsala engaging in a video conversation with the two human rights lawyers, Teng Biao and Jiang Tianyong, as well as the author Wang Lixiong. And I, I was standing behind Wang Lixiong, attentively listening to every word. When the Dalai Lama appeared on screen, I could hardly believe it, tears started streaming down my face.

“How I Met His Holiness the Dalai Lama Without a Passport”

By Woeser

Seven years ago, in my essay collection “Notes on Tibet”, I wrote this about a group photo showing a father with his son quietly making their way from Lhasa to Dharamsala: “he who conveys an air of humility and modesty on both sides but embraces the centre, is the most illustrious of all devout Tibetan people, the most affectionate, eager person – the Dalai Lama.” Because of this sentence and because of a few articles that touch on the truth, the local authorities labelled my work as “containing severe political errors”, “praising the 14th Dalai Lama and 17th Karmapa, and promoting serious political and religious opinions are wrong. Some essays already to some extent contain political errors.” After this, I was removed from my public position, this is when I left Lhasa.

Even earlier than that, already 16 years ago, I composed a poem implicitly conveying: “On the road, I clutch a flower not of this world, Hurrying before it dies, searching in all directions, That I may present it to an old man in a deep red robe. A wish−fulfilling jewel, A wisp of a smile: These bind the generations tight.” Later on, I turned this poem into lyrics, openly saying that “old man in a deep red robe”, “is our Yeshe Norbu, our Kundun, our Gongsachog, our Gyalwa Rinpoche …” all of which are Tibetan terms of respect for the Dalai Lama.

Just like so many Tibetans, hoping to be able to see His Holiness, to respectfully listen to his teachings, to be granted an audience, this has also been my innermost wish; from a very young age, I have always longed for this moment to come true. But, I cannot get a passport, just like many other Tibetans, it is almost unthinkable that this regime that controls us will ever grant us a passport, which should, in actual fact, be a fundamental right that every citizen enjoys. Last year, Lhasa gave out passports to anyone above 60 years of age, albeit only for the period of one week. As a result the office in charge of passports was full of the grey-haired, limping elderly; and it was clear that they were all heading for the foothills of the Himalayas to visit relatives, pay homage to the holy land of Buddhism, as well as to fulfil that dream that no one speaks of but everyone knows. I am sorrowfully thinking that I may have to wait until I am 60 years old until I get hold of a passport.

However, the internet gave my passport-less self a pass to travel; in the New Year, it helped me to make my dream come true – through the internet I met, as if in a dream but still very vivid and real, His Holiness the Dalai Lama!

It all started with a video conversation in cyberspace. On January 4, 2011, His Holiness was in Dharamsala engaging in a video conversation with the two human rights lawyers, Teng Biao and Jiang Tianyong as well as the writer Wang Lixiong. And I, I was standing behind Wang Lixiong, attentively listening to every word that was spoken. When the Dalai Lama appeared on screen, I could hardly believe it, tears started streaming down my face. This miracle facilitated by the technological revolution, making it possible to overcome geographical distances and man-made barriers and building a bridge that enables the Dalai Lama to speak with Chinese intellectuals, is unquestionably of tremendous magnitude. I heard His Holiness saying to the three Han Chinese intellectuals: “it’s just as if we were together, we only can’t smell each other’s breath”. At the end of the 70-minute long conversation, His Holiness asked in a concerned voice: “Can you see me clearly?” When all three of them said that they could, he light-heartedly pointed at his eyebrows and laughed: “so, did you also see my grey eyebrows?”

I cried and I cried. When I, as Tibetans do, prostrated three times, silently reciting some prayers, holding a khata in my hands and kneeling in front of the computer with tear-dimmed eyes, I saw His Holiness reaching out both of his hands as if he was going to take the Khata, as if he was going to give me his blessings. I am unable to describe with words how I felt…I am really such a fortunate person; in Tibet, many people get into trouble simply for owning a photo of the Dalai Lama.

In fact, today, many people from all over China have met with His Holiness and they have not at all lost their freedom, since we are all citizens of this country, Tibetans should also not be punished for having an audience with His Holiness.

Facing the image of me on the screen, the Dalai Lama instructed me in an earnest and tireless way: “Do not give up, keep going, it is of the utmost importance that Han Chinese intellectuals and we Tibetans always tell each other about the real situation, that we communicate with and understand each other; you have to internalise this. Over the past 60 years, the courage and faith of those of us Tibetans living in Tibet has been as strong as a rock. The international community is paying close attention to the real situation in Tibet, people from all over the world see that there is a truth in Tibet, Chinese intellectuals are increasingly aware of this, looking at it from a broad perspective, big and powerful China is in the process of transforming. Hence, you must remain confident and work even harder, do you understand?”

By then, I had already calmed down and kept the words spoken by His Holiness in my heart. Beijing,

January 5, 2011

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