Introduction
History is no stranger to the connection between religious and political authority. Whether one chooses to study the vast tomes of European literature or the oracle bones of ancient China, they will inevitably discover a clear link between rulers and the religions their subjects practiced. Multiple European monarchs were declared “Defenders of the Faith” for upholding the virtues of Christian exceptionalism, and although the Venice of today betrays the history of Catholic political coordination, the Papal States often directly influenced the political affairs of most European states whether Catholic or otherwise. Most Chinese rulers derived their power from the “Mandate of Heaven”—a justification both material and divine for the rule of the emperor—which spread in various capacities to additional Asian nation-states like Korea, Japan, and Vietnam. These examples are far from isolated, and they serve as only the most popularly known iterations of this “divine right of kings”. But while the monarchs of the Renaissance or antiquity might have recognized a clearer bridge between religious and political life, most modern states have adopted secular models of governance. Disregarding vocal evangelical or traditionalist voting blocs, most living in the developed world would be shocked to witness presidents, prime ministers, or governors proclaiming themselves to be representatives of some spiritual presence.
Of course, there are always exceptions to the rule. Iran, officially the Islamic Republic of Iran, is a functional theocracy, having been established by Ayatollah Ruhollah Khomeini as a Shi’ite state. Iran’s constitution begins by lauding the god of Islam, dedicating all that follows from the start to “Allah, the Compassionate, the Merciful.” The state of Iran exists, both intentionally and in practice, as an Islamic state, with a criminal justice system influenced heavily by sharia (Islamic) law and an inextricable link between political and religious life. Likewise, the aforementioned Holy See operates in a similarly theocratic manner, with the Pope possessing near-unilateral control of the executive, legislative, and judicial branches ex officio. Although the Vatican City technically operates as an independent, secular entity, its bylaws are almost directly decided by the Pope and the College of Cardinals. In both instances, Iran and the Vatican officially acknowledge the Ayatollah and Pope respectively as holy men who either directly or indirectly commune with the divine. Although these states are rare, they are far from nonexistant. Furthermore, these states often grant extreme power to the highest executive official, allowing them not only to influence the faithful, but over the administrative system as well.
One of the leading deviations from this trend is the 14th Dalai Lama: Tenzin Gyatso. Born in 1940 shortly before the conclusion of the Chinese civil war, Tenzin has largely lived the life of a refugee, having fled from China in 1959 following the suppression of the Tibetan national uprising in Lhasa and remaining in India ever since. The path of Gyatso’s life has been a winding one, with his aims, goals, and intentions shifting as the political situation in Tibet and China itself has changed. Many know the Dalai Lama as a figure of personal spirituality and religious charity, similar to Mother Theresa in his achievements and contributions. To critics, his writings are commonly associated with the “lukewarm Buddhists” and “dharma-hoppers” of Western Buddhism, encouraging a lifestyle free of obligation to one’s self or others and prevailing the “self-help book epidemic” of other faux-enlightenment figures like Joel Osteen. Despite this apathetic or outright scathing view of Gyatso, for Tibetan Buddhists and Chinese government officials, the nature of his position as Dalai Lama runs far deeper. In fact, it is quite possible that his life—and more importantly his death—could rock the very foundation of Tibet more than any individual alive today. Questions thus remain: what exactly is the Dalai Lama? Why did he need to flee in 1959, and why has he refused to return to his homeland? What are the political implications of his inevitable demise, for Tibet and elsewhere?
In attempting to answer these questions, and others, I wish to explicitly state that I am neither Buddhist nor Tibetan, and my knowledge of the Dalai Lama and Tibet stem only from self-study. While I source my statements, I acknowledge that there is doubtlessly information which I have missed and cultural dynamics which may go over my head. However, in presenting this topic, I not only aim to educate readers about a niche concept within foreign policy, but also to provide an outsider, third-party account of the Dalai Lama affair.
Life After Death: Reincarnation and the Nature of the Dalai Lama
It is first important to understand the lineage of the Dalai Lama and how his divine nature manifests. Buddhism is, to most, a religion of “undesirable reincarnation”: meaning that individuals are trapped within the cycle of death and rebirth (known as samsara) until they achieve nirvana or spiritual enlightenment. Much of Buddhist scripture revolves around this process of samsara, with the centuries-old Bardo Thodol—known in the West as the Tibetan Book of the Dead—describing how an individual should and must react during death to achieve total enlightenment. Across the Middle East, East Asia, and Oceaniac islands, Buddhism has taken many shapes and forms, with various sects borrowing aspects of Christianity and Islam. Likewise, Buddhism has had a deep influence on the history and development of modern Hinduism, Jainism, and many other Central and South Asian religions, and has itself been influenced by these faiths. For example, the idea of dharma—or a virtuous life—is cited to have originally appeared in Hindu texts but was later adopted by Buddhists to mean following the doctrine of the Buddhist teachers.
Bearing this in mind, the various interpretations of Buddhism mean that certain denominations believe that individuals may consciously choose to continue the cycle of rebirth after achieving enlightenment for the purpose of guiding fellow Buddhists to achieve moksha (freedom from samsara). These tulka (or tulku singular) as they are known are not trapped within the cycle, but instead opt to reincarnate into another person in order to forever distribute their wisdom and understanding of nirvana. When applied to the Dalai Lama, this specifically refers to his status as tulku, a reincarnated host body of the bodhissatva (Buddhist teacher) Avalokiteshvara. Technically, no historically-accepted source confirms that Avalokiteshvara ever truly existed as all writings concerning his (or her in some accounts) life derive from spiritual sources. However, this wealth of textual accounts confirms at least that his status within the Tibetan school of Buddhism—known traditionally as a branch of Vajrayana Buddhism—has been long-revered, with a majority of Tibetan Buddhists accepting the Dalai Lama as the reincarnation of this divine figure. To some then, the nature of this high status might at first appear puzzling. Is Avalokiteshvara a human or god? As such, is the Dalai Lama then a human or god?
When asked whether being perceived as a divine figure was a burden or a blessing, the Dalai Lama responded that “It is very helpful.” This answer reveals a few layers of the Dalai Lama’s importance as both a religious figure and a political leader. On the one hand, given that Avalokiteshvara was an enlightened human who chose to continue samsara, their reincarnation means that the Tibetan authority derives from the material world. Furthermore, with Avalokiteshvara being described as originating from Tibet, this meant the ultimate authority of Tibet could only derive from a Tibetan. On the other hand, because Avalokiteshvara is simultaneously human and a mythical figure with divine background and seemingly-inaccessible levels of enlightenment, this means that the Dalai Lama is unique among modern theocratic figures in that he is essentially the reincarnation of a god. Thus, Tibetan political organization is somewhat similar to the aforementioned Chinese “Mandate of Heaven”. Decrees, policies, or wisdom revealed by the Dalai Lama cannot be questioned because they are officially the ordained words of a divine bodhissatva.
It should be noted that the process for revealing the next Dalai Lama has differed throughout the hundreds of years since the third Dalai Lama’s appointment in 1543. This Dalai Lama, Sonam Gyatso, posthumously appointed two predecessors to be his past lives and officially began the lineage of the Dalai Lama. From Sonam, an esoteric procedure was established, where the Dalai Lama, on his deathbed, would foresee the birthplace of his successor tulku. Traditionally, the dreams, visions, and predictions of other high lamas—that is to say the Dalai Lama’s spiritual and political advisors—additionally influenced this operation. Scholars have long commented on the unique dynastic relationship in the Tibetan case, since unlike elsewhere, the Dalai Lama was not based on genetic lineage. As the Dalai Lama has reflected, the process of choosing a Dalai Lama has an egalitarian and indirectly democratic manner of selection. Although some tulkus have originated from those coincidentally close to the high lamas who would have the final say in choosing the next Dalai Lama, most have come from humble beginnings. All have exhibited varying degrees of administrative competence and interpretation of their role as a governmental figure, and this is owed to all coming from different backgrounds and families.
The Dalai Lama and the CCP
All of this being said, a reader might now competently predict the widespread concern over the inevitable selection of the 15th Dalai Lama following the death of the reigning one. While Tibetans had worried for decades over the future of the Dalai Lama’s succession, the Chinese government made official in 2011 that the monastic process of selection would no longer be officially considered. Only Beijing would have the power to select another Dalai Lama, and any other successor candidates would not be considered. But why has the CCP directed intense attention toward the Dalai Lama’s reincarnation? How has the government justified this action, and how has the 14th Dalai Lama responded? More than anything, is there any substantial evidence to suggest that the Chinese government will follow through with its promises? Or are these simply empty threats that the CCP will allow to turn-over upon the passing of the current Dalai Lama?
First, an understanding of Chinese authority over Tibet is necessary to understand the two entitites’ relationship. China holds a long and arduous history with Tibet, but the modern administration over Tibet began in January, 1950, when the Maoist government—freshly in control of mainland China—declared that it would “liberate” Tibet from the yoke of the Dalai Lama. In fairness, there is worthwhile evidence to suggest that life under the Dalai Lama at this time was not beneficial for many Tibetans. As Sorrell Neuss from The Guardian argues: “feudalism and abuse in Tibetan culture has been conveniently forgotten.” From 1913 up to firm Chinese control over Tibetan affairs in 1951, many sources claim that the Drepung Monestary (the controlling monestary of Tibet) enforced a primitive system of serfdom which placed the Tibetan commoners into servitude for the state. A plethora of documented evidence exists which points to medieval-styled torture practices for those who disobeyed the high lamas, with criminals occassionally having their eyes gouged out or their arms forcibly amputated depending on the severity of the wrongdoing. As such, the arrival of the PLA in Lhasa in 1950 was not received entirely negatively, for although Drepung had raised levies against Chinese forces, many wished to see the government go.
Unfortunately, as current critiques toward Chinese rule reveal, the process of “Hanification”—that is, the ostensible ethnic migration and social change of non-Han Chinese territories—has been far from a net positive. Some credit should be given to the Chinese, as with any authoritarian state, in partially uplifting the conditions of the Tibetan people. At the time of occupation, life-expectancy was only 36 years and over 95% of the population was illiterate. Not only did this create a legitimately-sourced moral obligation to the Chinese, it allowed officials to express the factual shortcomings of the Dalai Lama’s rule. Shortly after its incorporation into the PRC, these failures and others were fixed by educating the population and introducing modern medicine to the region. Industrial development and the construction of novel infrastructure—from hospitals to paved roads—brought unparalleled levels of prosperity to the region. To its credit, China has continued to introduce the amenities and and pleasures of modernity to Tibet. As of 2021, the CCP had even pledged $30 billion USD to the development of a 435 kilometer (roughly 270 mile) long high-speed railway linked to Lhasa across the Tibet region.
But even under the USSR did literacy increase. As with the introduction of most authoritarian rulers—regardless of their race, ideology, or intentions—not all Tibetans gained from the occupation. The first to face drastic change were the Phala nomadic peoples of Western Tibet, who were furthest from Beijing’s grasp and had long enjoyed the freedom of their livelihood. Following an uprising in Lhasa in 1959—which formally drove the Dalai Lama and his supporters into exile—the CCP began a full-scale revision of the Tibetan way of life, including for the pastoral Tibetans of the west. Under the rogre (“mutual aid”) system, poor households—which included nomadic peoples unaccustomed to agriculture—were forced (often under threat of violence) into sedentary units to increase crop yields. This is only a glimpse into the way the CCP has drastically altered the lifestyle of many Tibetans, and not always for a net positive. As late as August, 2021, during a celebration of the CCP’s 70th anniversary of rule over Tibet, Beijing insisted on the Tibetan way of life being discarded to adopt a lifestyle more “Chinese in orientation.”
In practice, the consequences for refusing this “Chinese-oriented” lifestyle have been imprisonment, torture, and even death. One of the more notable victims of this refusal include Choekyi Gyaltsen, the 10th Panchen Lama—another theocratic figure who will be brought up later—who directly opposed Chinese rule. In response, Chinese authorities stripped him of all power, declared him an “enemy of the people of Tibet”, humiliated him (both verbally and physically), and forced him to disavow his faith in a public letter. Similar stories happened to hundreds to thousands of Tibetan Buddhists who refused to renounce their religion and heritage. This treatment has continued up until today, as human rights organizations continue to report a failure on behalf of Chinese officials to uphold freedom of religion, press, movement, and assembly. Materially, Tibetan protestors have repeatedly complained about the frequency of local Beijing-appointed officials simply disregarding Tibetan rights and property. Land-grabs are increasingly common, and numerous reports have surfaced of land being sold away for mining rights without small-scale owners’ permission. These mines have resulted in the desecration of Tibetan land and ecosystems, as improper lithium and gold mining have stripped the land of its former beauty. Clearly, the situation is a complicated one, with a variety of arguments for and against Chinese rule over Tibet.
Based on Prescedent: The Story of the Panchen Lama
What does this all mean for the Dalai Lama? Ultimately, aside from the abuses under the high lamas’ rule in the early-mid 20th century—during which Tenzin Gyatso was only a child and had no official power—it is clear that Chinese rule over Tibet is far from an objective good for all parties. But unfortunately, these reports are far from anything new for those interested in the history of human rights under the CCP. As this article from Helen Davidson at The Guardian makes evident, contemporary concerns over rights abuses in China are not only limited to Tibet, but also to Outer Mongolia, Hong Kong, Xinjiang, and elsewhere. What is it about the Dalai Lama situation that makes it unique?
As stated previously, the biggest fear concerning the Dalai Lama as a political figure for Tibetan Buddhists, and specifically his cycle of reincarnation, is that the CCP is likely to tamper with the results of the process. As Krithika Varagur from Foreign Policy put it in her article “The Coming Fight for the Dalai Lama’s Soul”: “There is no question about this: There will be two candidates for the next Dalai Lama.” Considerations surrounding who exactly will succeed Tenzin Gyatso as Dalai Lama have farther reaching implications than the perception from most Westerners that the position’s opening will not matter in the grand scheme of things. After all, why would Buddhists or Hindus care about the death or abdication of a pope? But it is not only that his death will bring about a time of mourning for many Buddhists, but there is evidence to suggest that the Chinese Communist Party will interfere with the process by proclaiming their “own” Dalai Lama and raising him to support the state and its actions in Tibet.
One of thes best ways to illustrate the likelihood of this is to explain the series of events which surrounded the aforementioned 10th Panchen Lama’s succession following his death in 1989. To digress, the very circumstances surrounding his passing are looked at from some Tibetans with suspicion, as Choekyi Gyaltsen died of a heart attack aged 50 just five days after delivering a speech in which he stated that the “price paid for [Tibet’s] development has been greater than the gains.” Choekyi’s status as Panchen Lama—being the tulku reincarnation of the buddha Amitabha and effectively the second-highest position in the Tibetan Buddhist administration—left a vacuum similar to that which the Dalai Lama might leave following his passing. As both Choekyi and Tenzin had long feared, two separate Panchen Lamas were discovered in 1995: Gyaincain Norbu and Gedhun Choekyi Nyima.
Gedhun was appointed first by the Dalai Lama as the official successor to Choekyi on May 14th, 1995. In one of the most flagrant examples of CCP corruption, Chinese authorities apprehended Gedhun Nyima and his parents just four days later, citing “concern” that the family might be kidnapped by “Tibetan separatists”. To this day, neither Gedhun Nyima nor his parents have contacted anyone outside of China, nor have they appeared alive in television appearances or documented journals. According to CCP officials, as of 2020, Gedhun is claimed to be living as a “college graduate with a stable job” and has refused to accept his ordained position, arguing that he was never the chosen candidate. Gyaincain—known by his religious name Qoigyijabu—was selected on December 8th, 1995, much to the chagrin of most Tibetans, especially those living abroad. As expected, Gyaincain has repeatedly upheld Beijing’s ideology and statements, condemning an anti-CCP protest in Lhasa in 2010, claiming that it was detrimental to national unity. More recently, Gyaincain expressed pro-socialist sentiment, urging Tibet to “sinicize” in order to modernize by embracing the PRC.
Thus, the story of the Panchen Lama’s succession stands as a bleak indicator of what could be to come for the Dalai Lama. Theories range wildly around the identity and current place of Gedhun Nyima. It is entirely possible that he is alive as the CCP insists, and it is equally possible that he and his family were unfortunately murdered by the government, as is the fate of many political prisoners in China. Some have theorized that, assuming Gedhun is alive, that he is being kept healthy only to deter the Dalai Lama or any other influential Tibetan authorities from proclaiming another Panchen Lama aside from Gyaincain. In the event that a new Panchen Lama was announced, Gedhun could be released to the world, exposing the “falsification” of divine Tibetan authority, and thereby undermining the Buddhist powerbase that exists in Tibet today.
Concluding Remarks: What is to Come
There is no doubt that the Chinese Communist Party will directly influence and decide the next Dalai Lama. Since Beijing’s promise to retain heavy oversight over the process in 2011, the process of selecting another Dalai Lama is almost guaranteed to be heavily biased in favor of the CCP and the Chinese paradigm. The death of any theocratic figure poses deep, complicated questions for the future of their religious adherents. It is vital to understand that the entire future of an independent—or at least autonomous—Tibet may hang in the very balance should the CCP choose to rig the selection process, as they clearly have previously. The United States must support the self-determination of the Tibetan people, as well as demand freedom or at least the truth behind what happened to Gedhun Nyima. In fighting for the liberation of the Tibetan people from Chinese oversight, and in demanding the inevitable selection of the next Dalai Lama be fair and transparent, there is hope for Tibetan Buddhism to maintain its stability and for Tibetans to regain control over their culture and destiny.