My Spiritual Journey Read online

  Chinese propaganda accused the spiritual leader in exile of fomenting these revolts, calling him a “criminal,” a “traitor to the homeland,” and a “separatist,” while Zhang Qingli called him a “wolf with a man’s face but an animal’s heart.” To these insults, the Dalai Lama replied humorously that he would willingly submit to a blood test to determine whether he is man or animal. But more seriously, he deplored the serious attack on human rights when the Chinese authorities forced ordained people to insult him and, under threat, deny him.

  The Dalai Lama received the first reports and images of atrocities committed by the Chinese authorities when he was with Samdhong Rinpoche. He remembers that their eyes filled with tears and that he felt overwhelmed by the suffering: “I was simply sad, profoundly sad,” he said.

  In early January 2009, during a teaching in Sarnath, India, he declared that he had meditated on the prayer of the great Indian sage Shantideva, which speaks of an enemy as the best teacher, since he forces us to develop patience and deepen our tolerance and forgiveness. To a journalist who asked him if he had felt anger, the Dalai Lama replied that anger was foreign to him, since this emotion means that one wants to harm someone: “My faith helps me overcome this negative emotion and keep my equilibrium. Each of my Buddhist rituals is part of a process where I give and receive. I receive Chinese mistrust and I send compassion. I pray for the Chinese, for their leaders, and even for those who have blood on their hands.”30

  The Dalai Lama’s analysis of the explosive situation is lucid. He notes that oppression and torture have not succeeded at politically “reeducating” the Tibetans. To offset the controversy aroused by the massive settlement of Han Chinese, the leaders of the Chinese Communist Party put into effect several programs to improve the quality of life, injecting billions of yuan into huge infrastructure projects. But in the eyes of the Tibetans, the most important thing is to recover their basic liberties along with their cultural identity and scorned spirituality.

  In December 2008, at the European Parliament, the Dalai Lama reasserted the pertinence of his Middle Way policy, with its goal of ensuring general autonomy and guaranteeing Tibetans the right to settle questions of a cultural, religious, or environmental order themselves. There is no question of the country’s independence since, from the standpoint of international law, Tibet would be integrated into the People’s Republic of China, which would remain in charge of foreign relations and defense.

  The Middle Way policy, however, has been the subject of increasingly virulent debate, especially on the part of the young members of the Tibetan Youth Congress—a “terrorist” organization, according to the Chinese Communist Party—whose members call for independence. The Dalai Lama himself admits that the Middle Way policy has not produced any of the hoped-for results. The poet Tenzin Tsendu comments on the reasons for this failure: “The Dalai Lama had based himself on the conviction that the Chinese leaders were also human beings, capable of sitting around a table and discussing things. But in spite of persisting for years in searching for a compromise, maintaining dialogue throughout and despite everything, in spite of a sincere effort to humanize relations, this dialogue has not succeeded. The Dalai Lama recognizes that China is not playing the game.”31

  Thus, at the European Parliament meeting at the end of 2008, the Dalai Lama did not rule out the possibility of abandoning the proposal for autonomy and going back to calling for independence. But he also admitted that he could not discount the possibility of a final solution for Tibet: to keep control over Tibet, a country rich in natural resources, the Chinese leaders might oppress the population ever more brutally and use increases in demographic transfers of Chinese settlements to make the Tibetans once and for all into an insignificant minority in a Tibet populated by the Hans.

  Although this scenario cannot be ruled out, a new element feeds the Dalai Lama’s hope: the evolution of the Chinese people, and the Dharma connections that have developed in recent decades. After congratulating the European deputies on the awarding of the Sakharov Human Rights Prize to Hu Jia, the spiritual leader asserted that even if he could no longer believe in the declarations of the Chinese government, his confidence in the Chinese people remained “intact.”

  To all my spiritual brothers and sisters in China

  I WOULD LIKE TO APPEAL PERSONALLY to all my spiritual brothers and sisters in China, both inside and outside the People’s Republic, especially to the disciples of the Buddha. I speak as a Buddhist monk and a student of our revered teacher, the Buddha. I have already appealed to the Chinese community in general, but this time you are the ones I am addressing, my spiritual brothers and sisters, on the subject of an urgent humanitarian question.

  The Chinese and Tibetan peoples share a common spiritual heritage in Mahayana Buddhism. We venerate the Buddha of Compassion—Guan Yin in the Chinese tradition and Chenrezig in the Tibetan tradition. We cherish as the highest spiritual ideal compassion for all beings suffering. Given that Buddhism flourished in China before it was transmitted from India to Tibet, I have always regarded Chinese Buddhists with the respect due to spiritual older brothers and sisters.

  As most of you know, beginning on March 10, 2008, a series of demonstrations took place in Lhasa and several other regions in Tibet. These events were provoked by profound Tibetan resentment of the policies of the Chinese government. I was very saddened by the losses of human life, on both sides, Chinese and Tibetan, and I immediately asked for restraint on the part of both the Chinese authorities and the Tibetans. I especially asked the Tibetans not to resort to violence.

  Unfortunately, the Chinese authorities used brutal methods to check the revolt despite appeals from numerous heads of state, NGOs [nongovernmental organizations], and world-famous individuals, especially many Chinese scholars. In the course of these events, some people lost their lives, others were wounded, and a large number were imprisoned. The attacks continued, and it aimed especially at the institution of monasticism, where the traditions of our ancestral Buddhist wisdom are preserved. Over the years of my exile, many monasteries have been closed. We have received reports telling of imprisoned monks being beaten and treated cruelly. These repressive measures seem to be part of a policy of systematic, officially approved sanctions.

  Without international observers, journalists, or even tourists authorized to enter Tibet, I am deeply worried about the fate of the Tibetans. Many wounded people, victims of repression, especially in remote regions, are too afraid of being arrested ever to ask for medical care. According to trustworthy sources, people are fleeing into the mountains, where they have access to neither food nor shelter. Those who remain are living in a permanent state of fear, afraid of being arrested.

  I am extremely disturbed by these continued sufferings. My concern is extreme, and I wonder what the result of all these tragic developments will be. I do not believe that repression is a viable solution in the long run. The best way to go forward is to resolve the questions concerning Tibetans and Chinese through dialogue, and I have defended this position for a long time. In recent years I have often assured the government of the People’s Republic of China that I am not asking for independence. What I am looking for is a significant autonomy for the Tibetan people, capable of guaranteeing the long-term survival of our Buddhist culture, our language, and our distinct identity. The rich Tibetan culture is part of the general cultural heritage of the People’s Republic of China, and it can be beneficial for our Chinese brothers and sisters.32

  It was in the United States at the end of April 2008, during his first trip abroad after the general uprising in Tibet, that the Dalai Lama launched an appeal to the Chinese. In a speech to the Asian community, he reviewed the history of his attempts at a negotiated solution for Tibet, affirming his sincerity and openness, while deploring the absence of response on the part of the Beijing authorities.

  In this second speech to the Buddhist Chinese, the tone is more personal. The Dalai Lama addresses his “brothers and sisters"; coming f
rom him, these words are not without meaning. This fraternal link exists on the human, historic, and spiritual levels, for all Buddhists are disciples of the same teacher, Buddha Shakyamuni. In 2008 the Dalai Lama appealed to a rediscovered fraternity around an ideal of freedom and democracy. And his statements have echoed in the People’s Republic, which is not really monolithic. In 1996 the dissident Liu Xiabo was condemned to three years in a concentration camp for writing a letter to President Jiang Zemin calling for self-determination for the Tibetans and an opening of dialogue with the Dalai Lama.

  In Chinese society today, journalists, lawyers, ecologists, and artists have the courage to confront the authorities. As it undergoes major change, China is rediscovering religion. According to the Tibetan prime minister, Samdhong Rinpoche, there are 300 million Buddhists in China, including the ex-leader of the Communist Party, Jiang Zemin, and the former prime minister, Zhu Rongji. Many businessmen and artists are interested in Buddhism, and books by the Dalai Lama, printed in Taiwan, circulate under cover. While sympathy for and solidarity with the Tibetan cause continue to increase, rich benefactors have financed the reconstruction, in the great Tibetan tradition, of destroyed monasteries and centers of transmission of the Buddha’s teaching.

  The Dalai Lama maintains hope for an eventual democratization of China and for justice that would be rendered to the Tibetans by the Chinese people.

  The Dalai Lama wonders, “What if spirituality were to overthrow Chinese communism?” He has asked the question many times, for this hypothesis does not seem unlikely to him. It is inscribed in the logic of the spiritual revolution that he advocates and in his three commitments in life. If his work in the service of freedom and peace throughout the world is not finished, his next incarnation, the fifteenth in the line of Dalai Lamas, will take up the torch of freedom, which is not even close to going out—it burns in the heart of a human being whose life does not end with death.

  CONCLUSION

  I Place My Hope in the Human Heart

  We Can Only Live in Hope

  IN SPITE OF THE ATROCIOUS CRIMES the Chinese have committed in our country, I have absolutely no hatred in my heart for the Chinese people. I believe that one of the curses and dangers of the present age is to blame nations for the crimes of individuals. I have known many admirable Chinese.

  In these days of overwhelming military power all men and women can only live in hope. If they are blessed with peaceful homes and families, they hope to be permitted to keep them and to see their children grow up in happiness; if they have lost their homes, as we have, their need for hope and faith is even greater. The hope of all men, in the last analysis, is simply for peace of mind. My hope rests in the courage of Tibetans and the love of truth and justice that is still in the heart of the human race, and my faith is in the compassion of Lord Buddha.33

  BE A SOURCE OF HOPE:

  Whatever happens

  Never lose hope!

  Develop your heart.

  In your country, too much energy

  Is devoted to cultivating the mind.

  Be a source of compassion,

  Not just for your friends,

  But for everyone.

  Be a source of compassion.

  Work for peace.

  And I tell you again,

  Never lose hope,

  Whatever happens,

  Whatever happens around you

  Never lose hope!

  This poem was written by the Dalai Lama at the request of the American writer Ron Whitehead, founder of a medical research institute studying the human genome. The Dalai Lama read it at New York University in April 1994 during a festival organized by Ron Whitehead dedicated to world peace.

  “Never lose hope,” a slogan taken up by Tibetan youth, is now inscribed on houses in children’s villages and printed on T-shirts.

  MAY I REMAIN IN ORDER TO RELIEVE THE SUFFERINGS OF THE WORLD!

  May I be the protector of the abandoned,

  The guide for those who wander the path,

  And for those who yearn for the other shore,

  May I be the vessel, the ferry, the bridge;

  May I be the island for those who need an island,

  The lamp for those who need a lamp,

  The bed for those who need a bed;

  May I be the wish-fulfilling gem, the vase

  With great treasure, a powerful mantra, the healing plant,

  The wish-granting tree, the cow of abundance.

  As long as space remains,

  As long as beings remain

  May I too remain

  To relieve the sufferings of the world!34

  It was with this last quatrain of the long prayer by the great Indian saint Shantideva, which exalts the Buddha’s love for all sentient beings, that the Dalai Lama concluded his speech accepting the Nobel Peace Prize in 1989.

  Almost twenty years later,35 he confided that at the time of his death he wants to leave this life remembering these lines, his mind bathed in compassion.

  AFTERWORD

  Winning Peace with the Dalai Lama

  On the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of the Dalai Lama’s exile, this book would like to celebrate a victory.

  In the history books we learn that one nation wins a war while another loses it. Over the centuries, conflicts have succeeded each other, showing how true it is that no war that has ever been won has signified the end of war. Quite the contrary. Confrontation continues from generation to generation, and the parties that capitulated yesterday hope to become the conquerors of tomorrow. What if the Dalai Lama’s commitment were precisely to break this cycle of conflict? From that point of view, the fifty years that have passed would be neither pointless nor lost. On the contrary, they would represent victory over war.

  The Dalai Lama has won peace; he has come away with a victory of peace.

  This victory is not proclaimed on the front pages of newspapers, and nations have not given a triumphant welcome to the man who won this battle, taking as his inspiration and political model Mahatma Gandhi. The battle waged by the Dalai Lama cannot be seen as similar to the thousands of bombs raining down on populations taken hostage by clashes between governments. His battle cannot be heard like the explosions resounding through what is usually called the “theater” of military operations. But a battle has been waged and continues to be waged by the spiritual leader of the Tibetans, according to the rules of a determined strategy of nonviolence, with unflagging perseverance.

  In this combat, the enemy is not who one might think it is. The Dalai Lama is not fighting against the Chinese. How could he call the Chinese his enemies? When he speaks of them, he has for many years called them his “brothers and sisters.” An advocate of both inner and outer disarmament, he advances onto the international scene with bare hands. No terrorist, no planter of bombs, no kamikaze cites the Dalai Lama as his inspiration. To the younger generation of Tibetans who want to fight with the Chinese occupier, he insists on the path of nonviolence, from which he has never strayed.

  When he left Tibet in 1959, the Dalai Lama could not carry any wealth with him; that was the price of his successful flight beyond the Himalayan barrier. But this does not mean that he was destitute. Stripped of material goods, he carried within himself the treasures of wisdom, love, and compassion he had cultivated since childhood. In the Potala monastery, in the secrecy of its age-old walls, he had practiced handling the weapons that defeat all weapons, weapons that prepare for the victory of peace.

  The military occupation of Tibet by the Chinese nation, the violation of human rights, the forced sinicization of the inhabitants, and the demographic aggression are flagrant, painful, and unbearable. The Dalai Lama has ceaselessly denounced them for over fifty years to the community of nations, whose response has not matched the gravity of events on the Roof of the World. The recognition of the Tibetan genocide by the International Commission of Jurists in 1950 led to no measures against China. And although the Dalai Lama has managed to mobil
ize public opinion throughout the world, he has not obtained a commitment from the community of nations capable of stopping the violation of human rights in Tibet. Does this mean that love and compassion are powerless against China’s economic interests and the force of massive blows by the Chinese government? One might think so at first, and one might wax ironic about the idealism of the leader of the Tibetans, a monk who represents the last theocracy of another age, which he transformed into a democracy in the first years of his exile. But another interpretation soon emerges.

  For half a century, the Dalai Lama has appealed to the world’s conscience. At a time of global society and history, when human rights are flouted in Tibet, isn’t it the humanity of all of us that is violated? The victory of peace over a dictatorship that does not respect the Universal Declaration of Human Rights can only be a victory for everyone.

  What if, in order to transform the world, we have to begin by transforming ourselves? By assuming our universal responsibility? What if, following the Dalai Lama’s example, we were all called on to become “peacemakers” in order to liberate ourselves by liberating six million Tibetans, thus leaving future generations with a more human, more fraternal world?

  We must come to some sort of realization now, so that we are not destroyed by remorse for having been passive witnesses of a tragedy and so that, with the Dalai Lama, we can win peace.