by Starman » Wed Sep 28, 2005 3:37 pm
Great post, Proldic -- It really opened my eyes to a much more balanced, accurate overview of the context for Tibet's subordination under Chinese political, economic and social reform. It seems incredible, another aspect of how complex the world actually is and how pervasive special-interest propaganda manages public perceptions, that one can be pretty well-read and yet remarkably misinformed (and even uninformed) about many geopolitical events. <br><br>I understand now how woefully ignorant I was about the true condition of systemic abuses, sufferings, punishments and serfdom enslavements imposed on the vast majority of Tibet's public under feudal Theocracy practiced by Tibet's ruling-class. It's eye-opening to see how the assumptions and premises of karmic 'debt' were used to perpuate a kind of elitist 'good ol' boy' status-quo, in which privelege, indulgence, luxury, comfort and security of the social elites were considered the 'rewards' of one's past spiritual attainments, and a validation of the existing social order -- reinforced by brutal punishment and enforcement methods that supplemented Buddhist doctrine, manipulated as social conditioning of the peasants to unquestionably submit to their own servitude.<br><br>This really begs the question -- Do the precepts of Buddhism encourage, or perhaps just lend themselves to such widespread imposition of a rigidly stratified social order in which civil and human rights are routinely violated, and horrible sufferings and torture are readily accomodated. The kind of terrible injustices that occurred and which were sanctioned by a literalist interpretation of the Buddha's teachings, from cross-generational slavery, to the economic exploitation by way of taxing individual initiative and free will and ruinous usury rates and fines, to brutal (and disfiguring) 'punishments' for infractions (ie., fleeing indenture), to selective access to justice in favor of higher-classes, to the chronic witholding of basic social services, ie. education and medical care -- does this reveal a fundamental flaw or void in Buddhism, that basic compassion and concern for the greater social well-being could be so completely overlooked? To what extent does (or did) Buddhism discourage progressive activism and active social reform for changing exploitive, brutal, abusive social/political/economic systems?<br><br>The example of Tibet reveals, perhaps, that some of the more reprehensible attributes of human nature aren't adequately addressed by Buddhism, or that it doesn't readily accomodate itself to providing guidelines for government insuring social justice and the meeting of basic public needs -- it's far less comprehensive, for instance, than Sharia Law in Islam, or Judaic Law.<br><br>I guess my question (I'm trying to shape it, to find the general shapeof it, anyway -- which is key to realistically exploring the/a possible answer) is:<br>Were basic Buddhst principles being ignored or trivialized that allowed such chronic, intergenerational abuses and injustices to occur -- or is there an inherant weakness or flaw in Buddhism that allows or encourages the failure of social institutions to meet public needs and provide a measure of justice guaranteeing basic human rights. Are human rights as we understand them (in the west) even acknowledged as desireable in Buddhist thought?<br><br>One would think (at least, I do/did) that Buddhism recognizes and values such attributes as personal freedom and autonomy, self-awareness and education leading to greater self-empowerment and opportunities for universal access to social equity-participation, acheiving a modest degree of personal career or self-development or creative-expression success, enjoying the basic human-needs benefits of a well-developed standard of living and the security (and convenience) of a productive (and satisfying) job, participating in as a member-in-good-standing of a diverse, cohesive social community where there aren't any gross inequalities and disasterous poverty is eliminated, a society with equal access to fair laws that prohibit/discourage exploitive and violent practices, etc.<br><br>One can see that the rulers, the mercantile classes, the highborn-landowning priveleged families, and Monastery elites (and perhaps even the civil servents, or at least the bosses) had vested interests (as all elites do) in perpetuating the status-quo, and so perhaps they were given to overlooking Buddhist precepts about having compassion and giving mercy to the poor and suffering, and those more disadvantaged than oneself -- but there wasn't really any incentive under Buddhist principles to organize and work towards identifying and 'correcting' social wrongs -- the teaching of acceptance and non-confrontational accomodation to given circumstances hardly orients one, or a society, to struggle or fight for principles of freedom and justice -- In many ways, it seems Buddhism would be a perfect philosophy for maintaining order in a concentration camp.<br><br>Any thoughts or critiques on this to help show that Buddhism has much to offer the peace and justice and progressive reform movements? Perhaps a core tenet that was ignored in Tibet and that allowed and actually encouraged the ossification of social institutions -- which became an easy object for China to exploit and undermine. If the leadership and ruling class of Tibet under Buddhist guidance had actively encouraged and worked to improve and better people's lives, increasing the quality of life and giving hope for each generation to see improvements in their opportunities to participate in the benefits of society and for their families, it's unlikely the Chinese invasion would have suceeded to the extent it has in changing Tibet culture and social institutions. While far from a failed state, Tibet surely was severely crippled in many ways, with perhaps more than 3/4 of its citizens living in very mean, exploited circumstances.<br><br>Starman<br><br>--excerpt--<br><br>The theocracy's religious teachings buttressed its class order. The poor and afflicted were taught that they had brought their troubles upon themselves because of their wicked ways in previous lives. Hence they had to accept the misery of their present existence as a karmic atonement and in anticipation that their lot would improve upon being reborn. The rich and powerful of course treated their good fortune as a reward for, and tangible evidence of, virtue in past and present lives.<br>. . .<br>We are told that when the Dalai Lama ruled Tibet, the people lived in contented and tranquil symbiosis with their monastic and secular lords, in a social order sustained by a deeply spiritual, nonviolent culture, inspired by humane and pacific religious teachings. The Tibetan religious culture was the social glue and comforting balm that kept rich lama and poor peasant spiritually bonded together, to maintain those proselytes who embrace Old Tibet as a cultural purity, a Shangri-La.<br><br>One is reminded of the idealized imagery of feudal Europe presented by latter-day conservative Catholics such as G. K. Chesterton and Hilaire Belloc. For them, medieval Christendom was a world of contented peasants living in a deep spiritual bond with their Church, under the protection of their lords.41 Again we are invited to accept a particular culture on its own terms, which means accepting it as presented by its favored class, by those at the top who profited most from it. The Shangri-La image of Tibet bears no more resemblance to historic reality than does the romanticized image of medieval Europe. <br><br>When seen in all its grim realities, Old Tibet confirms the view expressed earlier in this book that culture is anything but neutral. Culture can operate as a legitimating cover for a host of grave injustices, benefiting some portion of a society's population at great cost to other segments. In theocratic Tibet, ruling interests manipulated the traditional culture to fortify their wealth and power. The theocracy equated rebellious thought and action with satanic influence. It propagated the general presumption of landlord superiority and peasant unworthiness. The rich were represented as deserving their good life, and the poor as deserving their mean lowly existence, all codified in teachings about the karmic residues of virtues and vices accumulated from past lives, all presented as part of God's will. <br><br>It might be said that we denizens of the modern secular world cannot grasp the equations of happiness and pain, contentment and custom, that characterize more traditionally spiritual societies. This is probably true, and it may explain why some of us idealize such societies. But still, a gouged eye is a gouged eye; a flogging is a flogging; and the grinding exploitation of serfs and slaves is a brutal class injustice whatever its cultural wrapping. There is a difference between a spiritual bond and human bondage, even when both exist side by side<br><br>Many ordinary Tibetans want the Dalai Lama back in their country, but it appears that relatively few want a return to the social order he represented. A 1999 story in the Washington Post notes that he continues to be revered in Tibet, but<br><br>. . . few Tibetans would welcome a return of the corrupt aristocratic clans that fled with him in 1959 and that comprise the bulk of his advisers. Many Tibetan farmers, for example, have no interest in surrendering the land they gained during China's land reform to the clans. Tibet's former slaves say they, too, don't want their former masters to return to power.<br>"I've already lived that life once before," said Wangchuk, a 67-year-old former slave who was wearing his best clothes for his yearly pilgrimage to Shigatse, one of the holiest sites of Tibetan Buddhism. He said he worshipped the Dalai Lama, but added, "I may not be free under Chinese communism, but I am better off than when I was a slave."42<br><br>Kim Lewis, who studied healing methods with a Buddhist monk in Berkeley, California, had occasion to talk at length with more than a dozen Tibetan women who lived in the monk's building. When she asked how they felt about returning to their homeland, the sentiment was unanimously negative. At first, Lewis thought their reluctance had to do with the Chinese occupation, but they quickly informed her otherwise. They said they were extremely grateful "not to have to marry 4 or 5 men, be pregnant almost all the time," or deal with sexually transmitted diseases contacted from a straying husband. The younger women "were delighted to be getting an education, wanted absolutely nothing to do with any religion, and wondered why Americans were so naive." They recounted stories of their grandmothers' ordeals with monks who used them as "wisdom consorts," telling them "how much merit they were gaining by providing the 'means to enlightenment'-- after all, the Buddha had to be with a woman to reach enlightenment." <br><br>The women interviewed by Lewis spoke bitterly about the monastery's confiscation of their young boys in Tibet. When a boy cried for his mother, he would be told "Why do you cry for her, she gave you up - she's just a woman." Among the other issues was "the rampant homosexuality in the Gelugpa sect. All was not well in Shangri-la," Lewis opines."43<br>. . .<br>To support the Chinese overthrow of the old feudal theocracy is not to applaud everything about Chinese rule in Tibet. This point is seldom understood by today's Shangri-La adherents in the West. <br><br>The converse is also true. To denounce the Chinese occupation does not mean we have to romanticize the former feudal régime. One common complaint among Buddhist followers in the West is that Tibet's religious culture is being undermined by the occupation. Indeed this seems to be the case. Many of the monasteries are closed, and the theocracy has passed into history. What I am questioning here is the supposedly admirable and pristinely spiritual nature of that pre-invasion culture. In short, we can advocate religious freedom and independence for Tibet without having to embrace the mythology of a Paradise Lost. <br><br>Finally, it should be noted that the criticism posed herein is not intended as a personal attack on the Dalai Lama. Whatever his past associations with the CIA and various reactionaries, he speaks often of peace, love, and nonviolence. And he himself really cannot be blamed for the abuses of the ancien régime, having been but 15 years old when he fled into exile. In 1994, in an interview with Melvyn Goldstein, he went on record as favoring since his youth the building of schools, "machines," and roads in his country. He claims that he thought the corvée (forced unpaid serf labor for the lord's benefit) and certain taxes imposed on the peasants were "extremely bad." And he disliked the way people were saddled with old debts sometimes passed down from generation to generation.45 Furthermore, he now proposes democracy for Tibet, featuring a written constitution, a representative assembly, and other democratic essentials.46<br><br>In 1996, the Dalai Lama issued a statement that must have had an unsettling effect on the exile community. It reads in part as follows:<br><br>"Of all the modern economic theories, the economic system of Marxism is founded on moral principles, while capitalism is concerned only with gain and profitability. Marxism is concerned with the distribution of wealth on an equal basis and the equitable utilization of the means of production. It is also concerned with the fate of the working classes-that is the majority---as well as with the fate of those who are underprivileged and in need, and Marxism cares about the victims of minority-imposed exploitation. For those reasons the system appeals to me, and it seems fair. . . I think of myself as half-Marxist, half-Buddhist.47"<br><br>And more recently in 2001, while visiting California, he remarked that "Tibet, materially, is very, very backward. Spiritually it is quite rich. But spirituality can't fill our stomachs."48 Here is a message that should be heeded by the well-fed Buddhist proselytes in the West who wax nostalgic for Old Tibet. <br><br>What I have tried to challenge is the Tibet myth, the Paradise Lost image of a social order that actually was a retrograde theocracy of serfdom and poverty, where a favored few lived high and mighty off the blood, sweat, and tears of the many. It was a long way from Shangri-La.<br><br> <p></p><i></i>