As the world reacts to China's crackdown in Tibet, one country is conspicuous both because of its centrality in the drama and its reticence: India, the land of asylum for the Dalai Lama and the angry young hotheads of the Tibetan Youth Congress, finds itself on the horns of a dilemma.
On the one hand, India is a democracy with a long tradition of allowing peaceful protest, including against foreign countries during state visits by their leaders. It provided refuge to the Dalai Lama when he fled his homeland in 1959, granted asylum and eventually citizenship to more than 110,000 Tibetan refugees and permitted them to create a government-in-exile in the picturesque Himalayan town of Dharamsala.
On the other hand, India has been cultivating better relations with China, which humiliated India in a brief border war in 1962. Though their bitter border dispute remains unresolved and China has been a vital military supplier to Pakistan, bilateral relations have grown warmer in recent years.
Trade has doubled three years in row to an estimated US$40 billion this year; China has overtaken the US as India's largest single trading partner. Tourism, particularly by Indian pilgrims to a major Hindu holy site in Tibet, is thriving. Indian information technology firms have opened offices in Shanghai and Infosys' headquarters in Bangalore recruited nine Chinese employees this year. India has no desire to jeopardize any of this.
India's government has attempted to draw a distinction between its humanitarian obligations as an asylum country and its political responsibilities as a friend of China. The Dalai Lama and his followers are given a respected place but told not to conduct "political activities" on Indian soil.
When young Tibetans staged a march to Lhasa from Indian soil, the Indian police stopped them well before they got to the Tibetan border, detaining 100. When Tibetan demonstrators outside the Chinese embassy in New Delhi attacked the premises, the Indian government stepped up its protection for Chinese diplomats. Indian Foreign Minister Pranab Mukherjee - who was noticeably less forthcoming on Tibet than his US counterpart Secretary of State Condoleezza Rice at a joint press conference - has publicly warned the Dalai Lama against doing anything that could have a "negative impact on Indo-Sino relations."
The Dalai Lama's curious position has complicated India's diplomatic dance with China. He is simultaneously the most visible spiritual leader of a worldwide community of believers, a role that India honors and a political leader, a role that India permits but rejects in its own dealings with him.
As a Buddhist, the Dalai Lama preaches non-attachment, self-realization, inner actualization and non-violence; as a Tibetan he is admired by a people fiercely attached to their homeland, with most seeking its independence from China and many determined to fight for it. He is the most recognized worldwide symbol of a country that he has not seen for nearly five decades.
The Dalai Lama's message of peace, love and reconciliation has found adherents among Hollywood movie stars, pony-tailed hippies, Irish rock musicians and Indian politicians. But he has made no headway at all with the regime that rules his homeland and he has been unable to prevent Tibet's inexorable transformation into a Chinese province. His sermons fill football stadiums and he has won a Nobel Peace Prize, but most political leaders around the world shirk from meeting him openly, for fear of offending Beijing.
Indians are acutely conscious that, on this subject, the Chinese are easily offended. While India facilitated the highly publicized visit by US Speaker of the House Nancy Pelosi to the Dalai Lama in Dharamsala last month, it almost simultaneously canceled a scheduled meeting between him and Indian Vice President Mohammed Hamid Ansari.
When China summoned India's ambassador in Beijing to the foreign ministry at 2am for a dressing-down over the Tibetan protests in New Delhi, India meekly acquiesced to the insult. Though Indian Prime Minister Manmohan Singh has publicly declared the Dalai Lama to be the "personification of nonviolence," India has let it be known that it does not support his political objectives. The government of India says Tibet is an integral part of China.
That position is not without detractors. The opposition Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) has criticized the Indian government for not "expressing concern over the use of force by the Chinese government" and instead "adopting a policy of appeasement towards China with scant regard to the country's national honor and foreign policy independence."
But few observers believe that the BJP would have conducted itself differently.
The stark truth is that India has no choice in the matter. It cannot undermine its own democratic principles and abridge the freedom of speech of Tibetans on its soil. Nor can it afford to alienate its largest trading partner, a neighbor and an emerging global superpower, which is known to be prickly over any presumed slights to its sovereignty over Tibet. India will continue to balance delicately on its Tibetan tightrope.
Shashi Tharoor, an acclaimed novelist and commentator, is a former under secretary-general of the UN.
In their recent op-ed “Trump Should Rein In Taiwan” in Foreign Policy magazine, Christopher Chivvis and Stephen Wertheim argued that the US should pressure President William Lai (賴清德) to “tone it down” to de-escalate tensions in the Taiwan Strait — as if Taiwan’s words are more of a threat to peace than Beijing’s actions. It is an old argument dressed up in new concern: that Washington must rein in Taipei to avoid war. However, this narrative gets it backward. Taiwan is not the problem; China is. Calls for a so-called “grand bargain” with Beijing — where the US pressures Taiwan into concessions
The term “assassin’s mace” originates from Chinese folklore, describing a concealed weapon used by a weaker hero to defeat a stronger adversary with an unexpected strike. In more general military parlance, the concept refers to an asymmetric capability that targets a critical vulnerability of an adversary. China has found its modern equivalent of the assassin’s mace with its high-altitude electromagnetic pulse (HEMP) weapons, which are nuclear warheads detonated at a high altitude, emitting intense electromagnetic radiation capable of disabling and destroying electronics. An assassin’s mace weapon possesses two essential characteristics: strategic surprise and the ability to neutralize a core dependency.
Chinese President and Chinese Communist Party (CCP) Chairman Xi Jinping (習近平) said in a politburo speech late last month that his party must protect the “bottom line” to prevent systemic threats. The tone of his address was grave, revealing deep anxieties about China’s current state of affairs. Essentially, what he worries most about is systemic threats to China’s normal development as a country. The US-China trade war has turned white hot: China’s export orders have plummeted, Chinese firms and enterprises are shutting up shop, and local debt risks are mounting daily, causing China’s economy to flag externally and hemorrhage internally. China’s
During the “426 rally” organized by the Chinese Nationalist Party (KMT) and the Taiwan People’s Party under the slogan “fight green communism, resist dictatorship,” leaders from the two opposition parties framed it as a battle against an allegedly authoritarian administration led by President William Lai (賴清德). While criticism of the government can be a healthy expression of a vibrant, pluralistic society, and protests are quite common in Taiwan, the discourse of the 426 rally nonetheless betrayed troubling signs of collective amnesia. Specifically, the KMT, which imposed 38 years of martial law in Taiwan from 1949 to 1987, has never fully faced its