I was talking with my students the other day about Tibet. They’re hip to Tibet—which on this campus means they actually know a few Tibetans and hang out regularly with Tibetan monks—but they’re also informed enough about their own country’s history to have developed the kind of cynicism I normally associate with my colleagues who’ve spent their lives laboring in the trenches of American higher education and trying to teach these students something about that history.
“Why do Americans,” one of them wondered, “get so bent out of shape about China’s invasion of Tibet? We did the same thing to the Native Americans, and we made a mess out of Iraq and Afghanistan, right? I mean, isn’t that hypocritical?”
The recognition of hypocrisy is one of the first signs of an awakening and critical intelligence. It's a fundamental motion of the mind: you compare announced intention with action, find a note of disparity between them, and finally generate the anger—righteous or not—that calls attention to the disparity. When you’re young, being a Watchdog for Hypocrisy is one of the tried and true ways of earning your radical stripes.
In this case, my students had hit on a standard line of inquiry that led to a good
question. Why do we, in fact, get so bent out of shape about the Tibetans? If you think about the displaced peoples of Africa, the refugees streaming out of Cambodia, the dissidents in Chinese prisons, the faceless millions starving in India, you’re circling the same question, again and again: Why the Tibetans?
It’s an important and difficult question to answer. Important, because it speaks to our deepest motivations regarding the selective recognition of human suffering; difficult, because it involves a bit of thorough-going and authentic self-scrutiny, and that’s not something Americans take to with any degree of enthusiasm. We never have, which is why we make such a big deal over those of us who did—Thoreau, Emerson, Dickinson, etc.
I have noticed recently several things on the international radar that are worth looking at as we try to wrestle with this question of Tibet’s priority in America. I don’t understand the connections between these things yet. They're like iron filings on a sheet of paper, and I’m looking for the magnet that will reveal the connective patterns. So I list them here simply as observations . . .
Observation 1: The Nobel Peace Prize goes to Martti Ahtisaari, former President of Finland. With the UN’s Declaration of Human Rights celebrating its 60th anniversary this year, many observers thought the Nobel would go to one of the more well known Chinese dissidents. China, of course, struck hard with its pre-emptive rage, promising dire consequences for such an award. Some thought the decision was influenced by Chinese pressure, and that the current choice was the safe choice.
Observation 2: China plans dams across Tibet. Among others, Tibet is the source of the Yangtze, the Indus, and the Brahmaputra rivers. Almost half the world's population lives in the irrigation basins of rivers that originate in Tibet. China is developing the capacity to choke to death half the world’s population.
Observation 3: US approves legislation urging China to begin earnest negotiations with the Dalai Lama. We also gave him the Congressional Gold Medal.
Observation 4: His Holiness calls for a special general meeting on Tibet to be held in
November and December. Some of my Tibetan friends have told me that this meeting is designed to force China into serious deliberations about Tibet's future and to voice serious objections to the Kashag regarding what is increasingly seen as Samdhong Rinpoche's appeasement policy toward the Chinese, a policy also articulated by the Dalai Lama himself. If this is the case, the watchwords, of course, will be autonomy vs. independence.
Observation 5: Special envoys (Tibetan) to China are fearful that if the next scheduled talks fail, violence will erupt.
Here are five simple facts with far-reaching consequences and implications. Think about them. Sadly, they raise far more questions than they answer, and still we're no closer to answering my students' original question: Why Tibet?
The financial crisis that is currently gripping the planet is surely symptomatic of a larger, deeper malaise that afflicts us all, and each of these five facts, I believe, radiates either from this malaise or from our, at times, desparate attempts to ameliorate it.
But one thing is sure: the world seems suddenly much smaller than it did when I was a child, and its distant corners, where my forefathers relegated most all of human suffering, seem now the four corners of my room.