Left Flank

Minding my Chinese readers, there is a certain symbolic "WOW"-ness related to the lighting of a torch on Mt. Everest. I just wish it weren't an Olympic torch. And, I hope those torch-bearers clean up after themselves.

So, Michael Goldfarb, troublemakers? I guess, to be generous, this is the Jeffersonian perspective on IR. Or, is PRC just a dumping ground for unwanted Hollywood performers?

Lest I be unfair, Robert Farley, could you sound any more wishy-washy? Odious events, but odious? What, are we splitting metaphysical hairs? What do you care about?

I hope this is not the best on PRC American academia and punditry have to offer!

Joshua Foust reminds us of the unromantic Tibet. And then, he offers this sage, post-Kosovo advice:

However simply looking down upon China with Holy Western Outrage is not a solution. Ignoring the priggish and quite frankly offensive Han chauvinism (dwarfing even the gaudiest excesses of American chauvinism, which rarely goes beyond empty sloganeering and angry TV pundits), the current Chinese government—which kindly props up our entire financial system through its generous purchasing of our securities and bonds and cheap exports—literally stakes its existence on the government's infallibility. Allowing Tibet independence would require allowing Xinjiang independence… which would also require Taiwan's independence. Many Americans would cheer at the prospect, but hopefully not with the understanding that Chinese society is actually much less homogeneous and far less stable than the CCP likes us to realize. And, like it or not, a stable China means a stable America. We disrupt that at our own peril.

So yes, let us join hands with the spiritual, romantic Tibetan people—I cannot deny their appeal. But let us also do so in a proper context, taking a sober look at the true history and true issues surrounding it. Nothing in anyone's past can justify the horrors visited upon any of the CCP's hundreds of millions of victims. But that is why we should agitate for their redress in a constructive manner—which precludes angrily stomping our feet and shouting slogans. Brave people are literally dying for their freedom in China: let us do them the courtesy of seriously advancing their concerns.

The rest of the post is more informative than all of those western deconstructions on CNN.

McClatchy's Tim Johnson deconstructs in effect today's Beijing-escorted reporters' trip to Jokhang Temple in Lhasa. What makes it so postmodern is the fact that no reporter was actually there.

Okay, so imagine you're a Chinese official in charge of public relations for this disaster: How do you spin it? Do you say the monks drank funny kool-aid this morning? Do you avoid explanations and just move on? Can you plausibly contend that all these monks are part of the «Dalai clique» and have been infiltrated into one of the holiest sites of Tibetan Buddhism?

Or do you just sit and feel that indigestion bubble up in the tummy, another Maalox moment, and prepare to go to the woodshed?

Who knew Tim Johnson was writing a novel?

Robert Barnett, a Tibet scholar at Columbia University, warns against a simplistic understanding of the events in Tibet. It seems that even in Tibet, interest is gray.

We have to be very careful not to confuse exile politics, which is a demand for anti-China this and anti-China that, with internal politics, which is much more pragmatic, complex, and sophisticated.

A very important sector of Tibetans have become very wealthy because China has poured money into creating a middle class in Tibetan towns, though there hasn't really been a dividend for the countryside and the underclass. So, we can't explain this as just economic modernization. We could explain the violence against the [Han] Chinese in that way. It could have to do with that. But the violence is present in just one demonstration out of 50 in the past two weeks.

These protests are really about two things: A huge sector of the rural population has said, «Tibet was independent in the past. We reassert that belief. That doesn't mean we demand that it be independent again, but we are reinserting that into the discussion.» And, «The Dalai Lama represents our interests.» I suppose a possible third thing is, «We are certainly not happy with Chinese President Hu Jintao.» This is a huge political statement that nobody anticipated.

(…)

The most significant of the 50 protests are the rural peasants taking over the countryside. These are people who get on horseback or march down to the local government office or police post, burn it to the ground, and raise the Tibetan flag. You can be shot on sight for having a Tibetan flag in Tibet in a non-Olympics year. Nothing like this has been seen in Tibet for decades, and it has untold political significance for China.

(…)

We [in the West] think that people do politics by saying, «I'm going to stage this protest in order to get X.» But nobody gets X in China. It just doesn't work like that. You're dealing with one of the biggest power systems in the world. Instead, burn a government building, put a flag up, and then you've achieved this huge victory because China has created a symbolic form of politics in which everyone is supposed to have forgotten that they were independent once. So, just by doing that, you have completely changed the political equation.

(…)

The exile complaints are not about power. And we have to put aside suggestions that the protests in Tibet are because people are unhappy about economic loss. That really is reductive. And I think we have to get over any suggestion that the Chinese are ill-intentioned or trying to wipe out Tibet. It's obviously horrible that people are being savagely beaten up and killed. But crucially, this is a historic change in the profile of Tibetan politics. We're looking at something much larger than any immediate anxiety about Olympics, or whether somebody planned one of these things, or whether people are upset about economic disadvantage. Historians are going to tell us that we missed the big picture if we didn't notice that this is the big story here. All the party cadres are going to be sent to the countryside areas to listen to the Tibetans' complaints and find out what has gone so wrong with the policy machine in China.

In other words, globalization has offered a peek into a very abnormal way of doing politics in a part of the world few westerners understand.

ESWN reminds its readers about joining the pro-Tibet bandwagon, and I agree. And, not just because I trust Rebecca MacKinnon implicitly. As I've argued before, on this blog, and also contra-TNR (it would take too long to find the comment on the TNR site), why stop at boycotting the Olympics when ending them permanently is so much more beneficial?

Beijing is doing much that's distasteful, like blocking communication and roughing up protesters. Even EU leaders are strongly considering an Olympic boycott, which is enough to embolden even the most cowardly. TNR's Joshua Kurlantzick piles on even more transparently.

The charges, though absurd--it's the Dalai Lama--are hardly unique. In fact, they're of a piece with a new tactic the Chinese government seems to have developed: using Olympic security as an excuse to crack down, beyond any sense of proportion, on its "enemies."

Take the case of the Uighurs, a Muslim ethnic group located primarily in the western Chinese region of Xinjiang. (Though primarily Buddhist, Confucian, and atheist, China has a Muslim population of one to two percent.) Earlier this month, China announced that Uighur terrorists had targeted the Games, a claim that understandably drew headlines around the world. Given the Games' horrific history of terrorist attacks, many sporting fans probably breathed a sigh of relief upon hearing that the Chinese authorities had busted a plot hatched by militant separatists.

The Uighurs? Is Kurlantzick trying to launch his own central Asian state with disaffected anti-Han groups in tow? That he's right has nothing to do with Beijing, Tibet, or the Olympics!

The World Uyghur Congress believes that the unrest is a huge challenge for the Chinese government's controversial rule of Tibet, casting serious doubt on the Chinese government's promises to improve its human rights situation ahead of the Beijing Olympic Games. The harsh crackdown on peaceful Tibetan protesters reveals the brutality of Chinese rule in Tibet which flatly contradicts the core of the Olympic Spirit founded upon universal moral principles.

The World Uyghur Congress also urges the world community to exercise more pressure on the Chinese government to cease using military force against the Tibetans and Uyghurs, and instead seriously seek political solution to their legitimate aspirations, ahead of the 2008 Beijing Olympic Games.

It's a political statement, not the gospel! However much one might agree that the Uighurs are in bad sorts, let's not swap careful consideration for slavish and convenient groping for fashionable trends.

In 1945, a rebellion led to the creation of a short-lived independent republic in the Yining region close to the Soviet Union. But in 1949, this was abolished after the Russians told the Uighurs to co-operate with Mao. An earlier East Turkestan, in 1933, had lasted only a few months. Since 1949, Chinese rule has never been seriously challenged, although the authorities say there were more than 200 «terrorist incidents» between 1990 and 2001, causing the deaths of 162 people. The most recent unrest of any significance occurred in 1997, with the Yining riots. Three bus bombings in Urumqi and an explosion in Beijing that year were also blamed on Xinjiang separatists.

Calls for independence are still heard among members of the Uighur diaspora. Rebiya Kadeer, a Uighur businesswoman and former political prisoner who was sent into exile in America by China in March, has become a prominent cheerleader for the cause. She has been labelled a «terrorist» by the Chinese government and her family members in Xinjiang have been harassed by the police. Amnesty International says the government's accusations «have not been backed up with any evidence» and appear to be aimed at discrediting Ms Kadeer and her associates as part of a broader political crackdown in Xinjiang.

But at the beginning of October, official celebrations of the 50th anniversary of the founding of what China calls the Xinjiang Uighur Autonomous Region passed without disruption. Tight security for the events reflected the authorities' continuing fear that, though subdued, separatists could still pose a security risk. Yet China plainly does not worry that Xinjiang might descend into a Chechnya-style conflict. And for all its warnings of terrorist dangers, it appears convinced that, just as rapid economic growth has bought respite from radical political demands in other parts of China, the same formula could well work in Xinjiang.

Xinjiang is a prize worth keeping for more than just reasons of national pride. As China searches for fuel to power its economic development, its gaze has inevitably turned westwards to the province's rich endowments of coal, oil and natural gas. Driving along the edge of the vast Taklamakan desert, the vista is of endless tracts of wells and drills. Official hyperbole makes it hard to tell how much oil and gas Xinjiang really has. But the province is a focal point of exploration by China's largest oil and gas producer, the China National Petroleum Corporation (CNPC).

The discovery of Xinjiang's Kela II natural-gas field laid the foundation for a 4,000km (2,500-mile) pipeline that began pumping gas from Xinjiang to China's east coast last year. Three years ago, the oilfields of the Junggar basin, in northern Xinjiang, broke the annual output record for Chinese oilfields by crossing the ten million tonne mark. In 2004, the Tarim basin oilfields chipped in with five million tonnes.

With its borders with Kazakhstan, Kirgizstan, Tajikistan and Pakistan, among others, Xinjiang is also China's principal gateway to the energy reserves of Central Asia. Chinese oil experts are frequent visitors to Almaty and Tashkent, where they hammer out some of the biggest deals in the global energy market today. The first phase of an oil pipeline stretching from Kazakhstan to the border town of Alashankou, in Xinjiang, is soon to be completed. The two countries are also exploring the feasibility of a natural-gas pipeline.

Dissent among the Chinese is perspicacious, although the Potemkin treatment is unnecessary. An historic summit between western and Chinese media, including bloggers would be a good start.

The Atlantic's Graeme Wood on Buddhist democracy nails it:

There may be something or nothing to learn about democracy from these spectacles. The first suggests that the movement for Tibetan independence does not answer only to the Dalai Lama, and that China may have a bigger problem, with a wider and more distributed base, than it thought. Would Lhasa consider exchanging the unquestioned rule of Hu Jintao for something more than the unquestioned rule of Tenzin Gyatso? As for the Bhutanese monarch, all signs point to democracy -- except for the often and freely expressed desire of the Bhutanese to keep and revere the monarchy, with or without elections. Whatever else this shows, it should put rest to the notion that democratization of the Buddhist street is any simpler -- or more welcome -- than democratization of the Arab one.

Second place in thought-provoking quotes, though, goes to French Foreign Minister Bernard Kouchner:

On Wednesday, Kouchner told RMC radio and BFM television that the boycott was not a bad idea. But "it seems unrealistic," he said. "There are a lot of good ideas that can't be put into practice."

"When you're dealing in international relations with countries as important as China, obviously when you make economic decisions it's sometimes at the expense of human rights," he added. "That's elementary realism."

It's no time for sycophantic devotion to one political course, religion, leader, or even state, especially when repression seems to be expanding.

The Dalai Lama is a likeable kind of guy, but I'd like to see, and hear, less of him.

Tibet's case is not helped by world leaders. US House Speaker Nancy Pelosi's actual words were quite measured, but standing in Dharamsala, the seat of the Tibetan government-in-exile, is incendiary. «We insist the world know what the truth is in Tibet,» Pelosi said.

PRC's Premier, Wen Jiaobao, even more explicitly makes the mistake Pelosi only staged with symbolism: demonizing the Dalai Lama directly.

The EU eschewed the long tradition of childishly pursuing its own foreign policy and spiting every other western state, agreeing with Pelosi not to boycott the Summer Olympics. But still, Beijing can always thank Brussels for relieving the diplomatic pressure.

I also think the Dalai Lama erred tactically by broadcasting his pledge to resign if Tibetan resort to violence. The nature of this gamble exposes Tibet's problem: there are no responsible leaders in Tibet ready to speak for Tibetans. Fortunately, the Dalai Lama maintains that he only wants "autonomy" for all Tibetans in Tibet and in western PRC.

The 73-year-old religious leader was reacting to statements made by Chinese Premier Wen Jiabao. In a telephone conversation with British Prime Minister Gordon Brown, Wen said that Beijing was prepared to talk to the Dalai Lama. The condition, however, would be that he could not demand independence for Tibet and he would have to distance himself from the violence.

Beijing accuses the Dalai Lama of being a "separatist and traitor," who talks of autonomy but really means the independence of Tibet from China. The Dalai Lama calls for broad autonomy for Tibet, not only for the current so-called "Tibet Autonomous Region," but also for areas in the neighboring provinces of Gansu, Qinghai and Sichuan which have large Tibetan populations.

When asked by SPIEGEL ONLINE whether he might be ready to limit his autonomy plan to just central Tibet, the Dalai Lama said no. The proposal to include other areas as well proves that he has no separatist intentions, he said. For the Tibetans, the only important thing is to "protect their culture."

"I have now repeated a thousand times, it is my mantra: We do not want independence," he said. The Chinese government should take seriously their constitution, which talks of autonomy for certain regions, he added. "It should not only be on paper," said the Dalai Lama.

Of course, Beijing will never consider an autonomous Tibetan zone encompassing western parts of its geo-economically strategic western provinces. For a refreshingly unromantic viewpoint on Tibet, FT reprises the Chinese perception of the Tibetan protests. Yet, I agree with Jeffrey N. Wasserstrom, that Beijing needs to act more responsibly.

Still, the tragic and farcical developments of recent weeks underscore the inherent conflict between China's desire to place itself in the global spotlight and its hope that no one will focus on the nation's flaws. They want internationally acclaimed artists to perform in cities like Shanghai without doing unexpected things--even if, like Bjork, part of their cachet is an ability to surprise an audience. But the Chinese leadership is no more capable of balancing these tensions than Don Quixote was of slaying windmills.

Beijing knows better; Tibet just needs to learn. At 73, the Dalai Lama is past the mark where he can continue to lead Tibetans, who should find their own secular path in a very dangerous region. A new generation of leaders should realize, that simplistic notions of self-determination and autocracy are fighting words where the mountains and rivers run between vital trade, pipeline, and resource routes.

There is opportunity as much as crisis here: even the meanest dictator doesn't want to have blood all over the Internet, or disrupt his cash flow (also check out Tim Johnson's report from Sichuan province).

Military looking vehicles had their license-plates covered or removed and many troops displayed no insignia, suggesting an attempt to cover up the use of army personnel to control the unrest. China does not want the run-up to the Olympics overshadowed by accusations of military repression in Lhasa. But the army is almost certainly playing a big part in the city's clampdown on the ethnic violence that erupted on March 14th and 15th. The authorities say 160 rioters in Lhasa have turned themselves in to the police and 24 people have been charged with «grave crimes». But Tibetans say they fear widespread and indiscriminate arrests.

Ethnic Han Chinese who were targeted in the violence (officials say 13 people were killed by rioters) are fearful too. Several told your correspondent that they would leave Tibet. One Han on the flight from Lhasa to the neighbouring province of Sichuan said he would normally travel in and out of Tibet by train, but he was now afraid that Tibetan terrorists might target the line. No terrorist incidents involving Tibetans have yet been reported, but China—partly in response to an alleged attempt by an ethnic Uighur woman to start a fire on board an airplane earlier this month—has stepped up airport security in recent days.

The huge security deployment in Lhasa has prevented further outbreaks of unrest there, but reports of smaller incidents in other areas of Tibet and ethnic Tibetan regions close to it have continued to emerge. The authorities admitted on March 20th that security forces had fired at protesters in the southwestern province of Sichuan four days earlier, injuring four people. A correspondent for Reuters news agency reported from the area that local residents believe several Tibetans were shot dead. Foreign reporters are now barred from Tibet and several have been turned back from ethnic Tibetan areas of surrounding provinces.

A younger generation of Tibetans raised in the the Dalai Lama's medieval aura, but with feet and senses in the real world, would take a shrewder gamble.

(For those with an open, unclouded mind, check out the bevy of high-quality links China Beat has collected from across the Internet on Tibet.)