Chao Erh-feng was directed to investigat_India and Tibet A history of the relations which have subsisted between the two countries from the time of Warren Hastings to 1910; with a particular account of the mission to Lhasa of 1904

concert with Lien Yu, to prepare comprehensive schemes for all the

measures to be undertaken in Tibet, and to draft Regulations. The

officials should receive liberal salaries, and be generously rewarded

for meritorious service. They should all be permitted to bring their

families with them, and would be required to hold their appointments for

long periods. To meet the necessary expenditure, the Board of Finance

was to provide a sum of from 400,000 to 500,000 taels every year in

order to aid in this important undertaking, and the Viceroy of Szechuan

was to give his assistance when required, even beyond the limits of his

own jurisdiction.

Sir John Jordan, as events have proved, was amply justified in drawing

attention to the significance of this appointment of Chao Erh-feng. He

was a man of both ability and energy, but also of severity. His dealings

with the semi-independent States of Eastern Tibet will be related in the

following Chapter. Here it is important to emphasize the facts that he

was turning these States one after another into districts directly

administered by Chinese officials, and that he was making a special set

against Lamaism[50]—regulating the numbers who might become priests,

curtailing the donations to monasteries, increasing the taxes they had

to pay, prohibiting the construction of temples except by Chinese

officials, and declaring the inefficacy of the Lama’s prayers—excellent

reforms in many ways, but when carried out with the severity with which

Chao was introducing them in Eastern Tibet, inevitably calculated to

arouse anger and suspicion at Lhasa.

Following the appointment of this high-handed Viceroy bearing a special

mandate to “reform” the Government of Tibet appeared anti-British

articles in a Lhasa newspaper,[51] published by the Chinese officials

and circulated throughout Tibet. The Tibetans were exhorted not to be

afraid of Chao and his soldiers; they were not intended to do harm to

Tibetans, but “to other people.” The Tibetans were to remember how they

felt ashamed when the foreign soldiers arrived in Lhasa, and oppressed

them with much tyranny. Chinese and Tibetans must all strengthen

themselves on this account; otherwise their common religion would be

destroyed in a hundred, or perhaps a thousand, years. In the west the

“foreign frontier” was very close. In that direction, also, was Nepal.

The Tibetans were therefore to make friends quickly with the Nepalese,

and “become as one to resist the foreigners.” In Tibet were “some

wicked, aggressive foreigners,” with whom intercourse had to be

maintained, and for this purpose English schools would be opened. Then,

again, in the south was Bhutan, and “Tibet and Bhutan were as

inseparable as the cheek from the teeth.” It would be even more

advantageous to make friends with Bhutan than with Nepal. If at any

future time the Bhutanese wanted help, the Chinese Resident would give

it. “Bhutan is like a wall of Tibet. The Emperor thinks that the

Gurkhas, Bhutanese, and Tibetans should live like three men in one

house.”

The next Chinese move was the Imperial Decree issued in November, 1908,

to which more detailed allusion will be made later,[52] ostensibly

conferring an additional honour on the Dalai Lama, in reality

containing, as Sir John Jordan put it, "the first unequivocal

declaration on the part of China that she regarded Tibet as within her

sovereignty"—sovereignty, be it noted, not suzerainty.

Then, a year later, came the announcement by the Chinese Government to

our Minister, that "Chao Erh-feng was faced with a serious state of

unrest on the Tibetan marches—so much so that the Chinese Government,

having reason to fear complications with Tibet, and desiring to

strengthen their influence at Lhasa, were contemplating the despatch of

a body of troops to the Tibetan capital."

By a remarkable coincidence, on the very day, November 12, 1909, on

which the Chinese Councillor made this announcement to our Minister, the

Dalai Lama, from a monastery three marches outside Lhasa, despatched a

messenger to him, expressing the Dalai Lama’s concern to find, on his

return to Tibet, that active measures were being taken in the country by

Chinese troops, and adding his hope that the Minister would do what he

could in the matter.

The events which led up to this will be set forth in detail in the

following Chapter. To make the consecutive narrative of Chinese action

complete, it will merely be noted here that three months later the

Chinese troops arrived in Lhasa; that on the day of their arrival ten

soldiers were sent to each of the Tibetan Ministers’ houses; that the

Dalai Lama thereupon fled to India; that the Chinese sent several

hundred soldiers to “attend” and “protect” him, but that he escaped

across our frontier; that only a fortnight after he had left Lhasa he

was deposed by Imperial decree; that the Chinese then took the

Government of Tibet into their hands, preventing the sole remaining

Minister from doing anything without the Resident’s consent, holding the

ferry across the Brahmaputra, and preventing anyone crossing the river

without a pass from the Resident, replacing Tibetan by Chinese police,

seizing rifles, closing the arsenal and mint; and, what more intimately

concerns ourselves, and what was immediately opposed to Treaty

obligations, preventing the Tibetans dealing directly with our Trade

Agents.

All this was done, moreover, with the object, as our Minister was

informed, of “tranquillizing the country,” of “protecting the

trade-marts,” and of “seeing that the Tibetans conform to the Treaties.”

Whether the Chinese forward movement extended beyond Tibet to Nepal and

Bhutan, there is no official information. But Government evidently

expected some such action, for in January, 1910, they concluded a Treaty

with Bhutan, increasing the annual allowance from Rs. 50,000 to Rs.

100,000, and securing from the Bhutanese an agreement that they would be

guided by the advice of the British Government in regard to their

external relations. And on Lord Morley’s suggestion, the Chinese

Government was informed in February of this year that we could not

prevent Nepal from taking such steps to protect her interests as she

might think necessary under the circumstances; while in April we went a

step farther, and gave a clear intimation to China[53] that we could not

allow administrative changes in Tibet to affect or prejudice the

integrity either of Nepal or of Sikkim and Bhutan, and that we were

prepared, if necessary, to protect the interests and rights of these

three States. It was also impressed upon the Chinese Government that it

was inadvisable to locate troops upon, or in, the neighbourhood of the

frontiers of India and the adjoining States in such numbers as would

necessitate corresponding movements on the part of the Government of

India and the rulers of the States concerned.

-----

Footnote 45:

Blue-book, IV., p. 88.

Footnote 46:

Blue-book, IV., p. 98.

Footnote 47:

Blue-book, IV., p. 126.

Footnote 48:

Blue-book, IV., p. 29.

Footnote 49:

Blue-book, IV., p. 136.

Footnote 50:

See especially p. 373.

Footnote 51:

Blue-book, IV., p. 178.

Footnote 52:

See p. 384.

Footnote 53:

Blue-book, IV., p. 215.

-----

------------------

CHAPTER XXIII

THE ATTITUDE OF THE TIBETANS SINCE 1904

Immediately following the conclusion of the Treaty at Lhasa, the

attitude of the Tibetans was friendly enough. The Ti Rimpoche wrote to

the Government of India expressing the gratitude of the Tibetans for the

reduction of the indemnity from 75 to 25 lakhs of rupees, and for the

promise to restore the Chumbi Valley after three years if the provisions

of the Treaty were duly observed. “The two parties have now commenced

friendly relations,” wrote the Regent, “and we hope that for the future

they will be firmly established, and that the Viceroy will vouchsafe his

aid in making this friendship last for a very long time to the benefit

of the Tibetans.”

The Yutok Sha-pé, one of the councillors who had negotiated the Treaty

at Lhasa, was appointed a kind of Special Commissioner to Gyantse to

arrange about the opening of the trade-mart, and in a speech he made

during a visit to Captain O’Connor he said that the Tibetans were quite

satisfied with the arrangements regarding the trade-marts, and that they

all hoped that the newly cemented friendship would be of long duration,

and that a flourishing trade would spring up.

The National Assembly also wrote a letter to Captain O’Connor saying

that they were rejoiced in heart, and gave thanks.

Some exception was taken by the Tibetans to our building a house in

Chumbi, and to the maintenance of the telegraph-line, both of which had

been erected during the course of the Mission. But on the whole the

intercourse was friendly, and these written and personal communications

showed that the Tibetans had entirely reversed their former attitude of

positively refusing all direct intercourse with us.

* * * * *

On the opposite side of Tibet, in that part not directly under the Lhasa

Government, but inhabited by people of the Tibetan race and of the

Lamaist religion, matters were, however, very different, and in the

spring of 1905 serious troubles, including the massacre of both Chinese

officials and Europeans, occurred.

Around Batang for years past the Tibetans had been very turbulent. In

February, 1905, according to Chinese accounts, a Chinese official was

forcibly robbed near Batang, and the Chinese Amban, Feng, sent a hundred

Tibetans belonging to a regiment in Chinese employ to arrest the

robbers. Thereupon great crowds from the surrounding country assembled

in the neighbourhood of Batang, declaring that Feng had no right to

establish his permanent residence there. Communication by water was cut

off, and on April 2 the people, “in collusion with the Lama brigands of

the Ting-lin monasteries, surrounded Batang.” The Roman Catholic Mission

Chapel was burned, and subsequently Pères Mussot and Soulié were

murdered here, and four others at Litang. The Chinese general was shot

in the main hall of the Yamen, and Feng only escaped through a back

gate. He was, however, followed up and surrounded in a house to which he

had fled. He tried to escape from this also with seventy-three men, but

of these only three escaped, and all the rest, including the Amban Feng

himself, were killed.

A French priest of the Tibetan Mission, when informing Mr. Litton, our

Consul at Teng-yueh, that the revolt appeared to be spreading to all the

large lamaseries in North-West Yunan, thus analyzed the cause of the

disorders.

For some two years past the Szechuan Government had been endeavouring to

bring Batang and the adjacent country under the ordinary jurisdiction of

the Chinese officials, which was violently resented by the Lamas.

The new Amban, or Assistant Amban, who was murdered, had been delaying

his journey at Batang for some months, and his followers had been guilty

of pillaging the Tibetans.

The considerable party which was still attached to the deposed Grand

Lama had been active in intrigues against the Chinese officials, who, it

was argued, had been proved by recent events quite incapable of

safeguarding the privileges of the Lamaist body, and incompetent to

exercise the rights of suzerain over Tibet—that is to say, the Lamas had

realized the utter feebleness of the Chinese Government.

Before the outbreak at Batang the probably false rumour was spread about

that the deposed Grand Lama had “descended from Heaven,” had arrived in

Tachien-lu, and was about to return to Lhasa.

It was said that secret orders had been issued by the great lamaseries

at Lhasa to Batang and other places for the murder of all Chinese and

Europeans near the Tibetan frontier.

The Lamas about Litang had a further feud with the Chinese officials,

who in the previous year seized the kenpu, or chief steward, of their

lamasery and chopped off his head.

It may be noted that on March 30—that is, four days before the attack on

Feng took place—Consul-General Campbell had written to our Minister

saying that Feng was headstrong, and that it was evident that his plans

must create serious disturbances unless the Chinese garrisons in East

Tibet were strengthened.

Later, on May 12, Consul-General Goffe wrote from Chengtu that a Chinese

official at Batang stated that the local tribes had no intention of

rebelling against the Chinese Government, and that Feng had brought his

death upon himself by his harsh and unpopular measures. The local chiefs

also sent a petition to the Chinese Viceroy of Szechuan complaining of

the various unpopular changes introduced by Feng, which had incensed the

people beyond measure. They repudiated any intention of throwing off

their allegiance to China, but they warned the Viceroy that any despatch

of troops to Litang and Batang would exasperate the people and provoke a

general rebellion.

The Chinese official view of these transactions is given in a joint

memorial from the General and the Viceroy to the Throne. The memorial

stated that Feng recognized that unless the power of the Lamas, who had

absolute control of the tribesmen, was reduced, there was certain to be

serious opposition to the measures of reform he proposed to introduce.

He accordingly requested that the old law limiting the number of priests

should be put in force, and he further proposed that for a space of

twenty years no one should be allowed to enter the priesthood. The Lamas

resented this, and spread reports that Feng’s troops wore foreign dress

and were drilled in the foreign fashion. They also represented that the

changes he wished to introduce were solely in the interests of

foreigners. His protection of the missionaries was adduced as a further

proof of his partiality towards foreigners.

The Tibetan frontier continued in a disturbed condition. The great

lamaseries of North-Western Yunan rose against the Chinese, and on

August 3 Consul Litton reported from Teng-yueh that the rebellion was

the work of the exiled Dalai Lama’s partisans. He said it was easy to

raise disorders, particularly on account of the ill-judged attempt of

the Szechuan authorities to force their jurisdiction on the Batang

people. Mr. Forrest, a botanist who was travelling in the district at

the time, wrote to Mr. Litton that, so far as the Chinese military were

concerned, the whole affair had now become a mere squeezing and looting

expedition. The disorderly character of the Chinese troops and the

corruption of their officers constituted, he said, a serious danger,

because the whole country might be raised thereby.

With more information before him, Mr. Litton wrote, on August 12, that

the reason why the great lamaseries which in the previous May, when

there were no Chinese troops at Atentse, had refused to join the Batang

insurgents had now risen against the Chinese was to be sought in the

violence and extortion of the Chinese Prefect. He had been at Atentse

since the end of May with some 400 or 500 troops, who had been looting

everywhere, which was hardly surprising when, according to a French

priest living in the district, he received neither men nor money from

his Government in spite of his warnings of the growing seriousness of

the situation. Mr. Litton observed, further, that this was the third

serious rebellion which had occurred in Yunan during the three years of

Viceroy Ting’s tenure of office, and that none of these rebellions would

have occurred if the most ordinary efficiency and honesty had been

exercised. Viceroy Ting’s government, he said, was a calamity to his own

people and a nuisance to his neighbours.

Only three days after he wrote this he received a report that Mr.

Forrest, together with Pères Dubernard and Bourdonné, had been murdered.

The Chinese, in face of these occurrences, now took strong measures to

put down the insurrection. Chao Erh-Feng, then Director of the Railway

Bureau, and now Resident for Tibet, was ordered in April, 1905, to

proceed with 1,000 foreign-drilled troops, and 2,000 more which he could

raise on the way, to Tachien-lu. Some difficulty was experienced in

collecting together the necessary troops, but in August it was reported

that the Tibetans had suffered a reverse near the Batang frontier, and

that the Chinese Commander was then at Batang itself. Later information

showed that, in consequence of Chao’s severity and breach of faith, a

serious revolt had again broken out in Batang, that Chao’s position was

critical, and reinforcements were being hurriedly despatched from

Chengtu in response to an urgent demand for them which he had addressed

to the Viceroy. But he eventually established his position there, and,

as will be related below, converted it from a self-ruling State into a

Chinese district.

In January, 1906, Chao set off with some 2,000 foreign-drilled troops,

equipped with rifles of German pattern and four field-guns, for Hsiang

Cheng, a lamasery at one time the home of over 2,000 Lamas. It is

situated about a week’s journey south-east of Batang on a high plateau

surrounded by mountains, and the territory under its sway had so far

been prohibited to Chinese, any who did enter being skinned alive. In

the winter of 1905 a small Chinese official with twenty soldiers had

come to this stronghold with a summons to the Abbot to swear his

allegiance to China, but the Lamas had treated him with contumely.

Chao now bombarded the monastery, but the walls were 20 feet high and 4

feet thick, and at the four corners stood high square towers pierced

with loopholes for rifle-fire, and against this the bombardment was

ineffective. The country people harassed the besiegers from the

surrounding hills, and the Chinese were unable to make an entrance till

June 19, and then only by a ruse. The garrison, by deaths, sickness, and

desertion, had been reduced to 1,000 men. The Abbot himself had, in

despair, committed suicide. But Chao got some friendly Tibetans to say

they had come as a relief, and induce the garrison to open the gates.

The ruse was successful. The Lamas streamed out of the back gate, but

only to find themselves surrounded by Chinese, who slaughtered them

almost to a man.

For excessive severity in connection with this siege and in other

places, and for extensive looting of the lamasery, Chao was impeached by

a censor. He nevertheless succeeded in establishing Chinese authority,

and, before the year was closed, in converting Batang into a Chinese

province, laying down for its governance regulations[54] which are

particularly worthy of note.

The head T’u Ssu (chief) and the assistant T’u Ssu having been beheaded,

the office of T’u Ssu was abolished for ever. Both the Chinese and the

tribesmen of Batang were henceforth to be subjects of the Emperor of

China, and subject to the jurisdiction of Chinese officials; and the

district of Batang, together with the Chinese and tribesmen resident

therein, were to be under the administration of Chinese officials. The

people were forbidden to style themselves subjects of the Lamas or of

the T’u Ssu. And being subjects of the Emperor, every man was to shave

his head and wear the queue. Headmen of villages were to be elected for

triennial periods by the villagers themselves, and were to be removable

by the villagers if they acted unjustly. Under each district official

(presumably a Chinaman) were to be three Chinese and three Tibetans, to

be jointly responsible for the collection of the land tax and the

hearing of suits, and all six of them were to know both the Chinese and

Tibetan languages. The land tax (payable in cash), according to the

fertility of the land, was to be 40, 30, or 20 per cent. of the total

yield, which is considerably higher than the land tax in British India.

Officials in future were to pay for their transport—a very wise and

necessary provision. Highway robbery was to be punishable with death,

whether anyone was killed or not. The gross ignorance of the tribesmen

having led to the murder of Feng and the French priests, a Government

school would be established which all boys from the ages of five or six

would have to attend. The barbarous methods of burial practised by the

tribesmen were to be abolished. Habits of cleanliness were inculcated.

Adult men and women were urged to wear trousers in the interests of

morality, and children were to be compelled to wear them. Each family

was to take a surname. Slavery was to be abolished. The people were

warned against smoking opium. The streets were to be properly scavenged,

urinals erected, and cemeteries were to be made in low-lying places, and

not on high ground.

Thus in every detail did Chao determine to make Batang a component part

of China. But the most significant portion of the regulation is that

relating to the Lamas.

The Ting Ling Monastery had been razed to the ground. Orthodox temples

would be constructed by officials, but no other places of worship would

be allowed, and no Lamas would be permitted to reside even in these.

Those Lamas who took no part in the late disturbances might continue to

reside in the country villages, and such of them as wished would be

permitted to quit their habit. What those Lamas who _did_ take part in

the disturbances might do is not mentioned. The number of Lamas in each

temple was not to exceed 300, and a register was to be kept of the names

and ages of the Lamas of each temple.

Temple lands were to pay land taxes like other land, though previously

this had not been done. On the other hand, the custom of making annual

donations in kind to the Lamas was to be abolished. So that the Lamas,

while they had to pay more, were to receive less. The Lamas were not to

interfere in the administration of the districts by the Chinese local

authorities. And as a final thrust at the priestly power, it was pointed

out to the people of Batang how ineffectual the prayers recited by the

Lamas really were, for they had not been able to save the Dalai Lama,

himself a living Buddha, from being defeated by foreign troops and

forced to fly for his life.

No one, after reading this, will wonder that the Dalai Lama again fled

from Lhasa when he heard that this very same Chao, who had since

absorbed still other parts of Eastern Tibet, was advancing on Lhasa with

a Chinese army.

The introduction of as large a Chinese element as possible into the

district was, Chao Erh-Feng informed our Consul-General at Chengtu a

year later, what he was anxious to bring about. He desired, by the above

outlined means, and by the inviting of Chinamen of the farming class to

settle in Batang, to check the Lamas.

Batang being reduced, Chao turned his attention to Derge, the largest

State in Eastern Tibet, and also the most favourable to the Chinese. For

four years there had been strife, of the type to which we are so

accustomed on the Indian frontier, between two brothers. The

unsuccessful appealed to Chao. Chao seized the chance; supported him

with 500 Chinese and 500 Tibetan soldiers; drove the other brother out;

established his protégé on the throne, and constructed a road from Derge

to Batang. Eventually he reports to the Emperor that the Chief is a man

of no ability, and had made repeated requests to him to be allowed to

hand over the whole of his territory to China. He had also handed over

his seal of office, saying that the strife between him and his brother

had caused indescribable suffering to the people. Chao pointed out to

the Emperor that the situation of Derge was important strategically, and

that with it under proper control the Chinese would be able to

strengthen Central Tibet, and at the same time screen the frontier of

Szechuan. If the Chinese Government insisted on the Chief carrying on

the succession, there would be no end to the sufferings of the

inhabitants, and other States would get drawn into the disturbances. He

therefore recommended that China should take measures to guard against

such eventualities.

It is not difficult to read between the lines of this report. The Reform

Council, in a memorial on this proposal that “the native State of Derge

should be allowed to adopt our civilization and come under our direct

rule,” said that it was laid down in the Imperial institutes that native

Chiefs who did not govern properly, must be denounced and punished

either by the substitution of other Chiefs or by their territory

reverting to China. The present conditions on the frontier were not the

same as before, and the Chinese must take proper measures to keep their

boundaries secure, and to put an end to tribal feuds. Derge was of great

strategical importance to Szechuan and Tibet. The people were extremely

anxious to come under Chinese jurisdiction. Chao’s proposals should

therefore be acceded to, and “the entire State of Derge be brought under

Chinese rule.” The Chief was to be allowed the hereditary title of

captain, and to wear a button of the second class and the peacock

feather, and allowed about £500 a year from the revenue of his own

State. Whatever he had got out of Chao by his appeal, certainly Chao had

taken a good deal out of him.

Chao’s next move was to Chiamdo, which, according to a traveller[55] who

was there in 1909, was not a part of Lhasa territory, but had a

Government on the Lhasa principle, with an incarnated Lama as ruler and

three chief Lamas as his Ministers, all residing within an enormous

monastery. The whole population was said to amount to 84,000 families,

say about 420,000 people. Chiamdo is the most important place between

Ta-chien-lu and Lhasa, and though the State sends tribute every six

years to Peking, it only did so because it received much more valuable

presents in return, and as a fact, the Chinese residents in Chiamdo had

to serve the Lamasery. At the end of last year there was a great deal of

unrest, this traveller reported, among the Tibetans in this and other

parts of Tibet owing to the appointment of Chao, whom they feared and

hated, and everywhere they were preparing and drilling soldiers, and in

some places had already declared their independence, and refused to give

transport to Chinese officials travelling.

Chao, however, early in 1910 was entirely successful in his operations,

and occupied Chiamdo, Draya, and Kiangka without suffering any

casualties.

Such were the relations between the Chinese and Tibetans in those parts

not directly under the Lhasa Government. That they must have profoundly

affected the inhabitants of Tibet proper must be very evident, and what

the effect was I will relate after I first traced the relations between

the Tibetans and ourselves at this time and followed the adventures of

the Dalai Lama himself.

* * * * *

Returning, then, to the relations between ourselves and the Tibetans on

the other side of Tibet, we find representations being made by both

parties as to what each considered breaches of the Treaty by the other.

The Tibetans objected to our administering Chumbi during our occupation,

and we objected to their reconstruction of the fortifications of Gyantse

Jong.

The Government of India replied to the Tibetans that the action taken by

us in the Chumbi Valley called for no explanation or defence, as it was

in strict accordance with the terms of the Treaty. As we subsequently

gave up the Valley, the point is not of any importance.

On the other hand, by levying trade dues at Phari, by the stoppage of

free trade _viâ_ Khamba Jong, by the stoppage of the letters of the

British Trade Agent at Gartok, and by their failure to pull down defence

walls on the road between Gyantse and Lhasa, Captain O’Connor

considered[56] that the Tibetans had clearly contravened the provisions

of the Treaty.

This change of attitude the Government of India attributed to fear on

the part of the Lhasa authorities lest the Dalai Lama should on his

return punish them for complaisance to our demands; and also to

expectations that the negotiations which the Chinese Commissioner was at

the time conducting in Calcutta might result in a material modification

of the Convention in favour of Tibet.

Any real change there might have been at this time was, anyhow, only at

Lhasa itself, for the Tashi Lama from Shigatse, spiritually an equal of

the Dalai, visited India in the winter of 1905–06, was received by

H.R.H. the Prince of Wales and Lord Minto, travelled to all the Buddhist

shrines, saw some great manœuvres under Lord Kitchener, and returned to

Tibet impressed with the cordiality of his reception.

As to the Dalai Lama himself, after fleeing from Lhasa on our approach

in August of 1904, he made his way to Urga, in the North of Mongolia,

where there is another incarnate Lama of great spiritual influence. But

the two incarnations do not appear to have hit it off very well, and the

Dalai Lama’s presence is reported to have nearly ruined the other both

in revenue and in reputation. They had a disagreement as to the division

of fees, and the Dalai Lama accordingly left Urga, in September, 1905,

for Sining, on the borders of Tibet.

Early in the following year we hear of him sending the indispensable

Dorjieff to St. Petersburg with a message and gifts for the Czar. Of

this the Russian Director of the Asiatic Department informed our

Ambassador, stating that His Majesty had granted Dorjieff an audience,

and had accepted the gifts, which consisted of an image of Buddha, a

very interesting copy of Buddhistical liturgy, and a piece of stuff. The

message was to the effect that the Lama had the utmost respect and

devotion for the “Great White Czar,” and that he looked to His Majesty

for protection from the dangers which threatened his life if he returned

to Lhasa, as was his intention and duty. The answer returned to him was

of a friendly character, consisting of an expression of His Majesty’s

thanks for his message and of his interest in his welfare. The Russian

Minister said that he wished the Ambassador should hear exactly what had

occurred, as the Press would probably make out that the audience had a

political character.

The Czar also sent the Dalai Lama a complimentary telegram, in regard to

which our Ambassador spoke to Count Lamsdorff in April, 1906. The

Russian Chancellor informed Mr. Spring-Rice that the policy of his

Government with regard to Tibet was the same as that of His Majesty’s

Government—namely, that of non-intervention. They wished the Dalai Lama

to return as soon as possible to Lhasa, as they considered his continued

presence in Mongolia undesirable, but he had fears for the safety of his

person on his return, and had asked for a promise of protection. The

telegram had been sent in place of this promise, and was designed to

reassure, not only the Dalai Lama himself, but also the Emperor’s

Buddhist subjects, with regard to whom the Russian Government would find

themselves in a very embarrassing position should any mishap befall the

Lama. The intention of the Russian Government, Count Lamsdorff informed

our Ambassador, was to keep us fully informed in order to avoid all

misunderstanding.

* * * * *

Here it may be convenient to interpolate an account of the agreement

which was come to in the following year between the Russians and

ourselves in regard to Tibet. By the Convention of August 31, 1907,

generally known as the Anglo-Russian Agreement, the suzerain right of

China in Tibet was recognized, but, “considering the fact that Great

Britain, by reason of her geographical position, has a special interest

in the maintenance of the _status quo_ in the external relations of

Tibet,” the following arrangement was made. Both parties engaged “to

respect the territorial integrity of Tibet, and to abstain from all

interference in its internal administration.” They, secondly, engaged

"not to enter into negotiations with Tibet except through the

intermediary of the Chinese Government." This engagement was not,

however, to “exclude the direct relations between British Commercial

Agents and the Tibetan authorities provided for in Article V. of the

Convention between Great Britain and Tibet of September 7, 1904, and

confirmed by the Convention between Great Britain and China of April 27,

1906;” nor was it to “modify the engagements entered into by Great

Britain and China in Article I. of the said Convention of 1906.” It was

to be clearly understood that Buddhists, subjects of Great Britain or of

Russia, might enter into direct relations on strictly religious matters

with the Dalai Lama, and the other representatives of Buddhism in Tibet;

the Governments of Great Britain and Russia engaging as far as they were

concerned not to allow those relations to infringe the stipulations of

the present arrangement. Thirdly, the two Governments engaged not to

send representatives to Lhasa; and they further agreed neither to seek

nor to obtain, whether for themselves or their subjects, any concessions

for railways, roads, telegraphs, and mines, or other rights in Tibet;

and no part of the revenues of Tibet, whether in kind or in cash, were

to be pledged or assigned to Great Britain or Russia, or to any of their

subjects.

On this agreement I would here make only this remark—that it embodied

yet one more concession to Russia of what we had obtained at Lhasa three

years before. By the Lhasa Treaty the Tibetans engaged not to cede

territory, admit foreign representatives, grant concessions for

railways, roads, telegraphs, mining or other rights, “without the

previous consent of the British Government”; and in the event of

concessions for railways, mines, etc., being granted, “similar or

equivalent concessions” were to be granted to the British

Government—that is to say, we were not precluded from ourselves

acquiring any of these concessions if, at any time, we should want them;

but the Russians were precluded from obtaining them until our consent

had been given. This was the position under the Lhasa Treaty. Under the

Anglo-Russian Agreement we have bound ourselves not to try to get any of

these concessions. Out of deference to Russia, we had already given up

the right we had acquired to send a British officer to Lhasa, and the

right to occupy the Chumbi Valley, and we now gave up the right to

exclude Russians from concessions in Tibet if we so desired, and engaged

not to obtain any concessions ourselves. I am not here contending that,

from grounds of general policy, this deference to Russia may not have

had some countervailing advantages. All I am concerned to show is that,

in regard to Tibet, we gave up in the Anglo-Russian Agreement yet

another of the results we had obtained at Lhasa in 1904.

Annexed to the Agreement was a re-affirmation of the declaration we had

made that the occupation of the Chumbi Valley should cease after the

payment of three annual instalments of the indemnity, provided that the

trade-marts had been effectively opened for three years, and that in the

meantime the Tibetans had faithfully complied in all respects with the

terms of the Treaty. But to this affirmation was added a most important

supplementary statement. “It is clearly understood,” it said, “that if

the occupation of the Chumbi Valley by the British forces has, for any

reason, not been terminated at the time anticipated in the above

declaration, the British and Russian Governments will enter upon a

friendly exchange of views on this subject.”

Before we evacuated the Chumbi Valley the Indian Government

represented[57] that the trade-marts had not been effectively opened

since Mr. Chang’s appointment to Tibet, whatever might have been the

case before, and that in other respects the terms of the Treaty had not

been faithfully complied with; and they referred to this annexure to the

Anglo-Russian Agreement as contemplating the possibility of a temporary

postponement of evacuation. But no advantage was taken of the annexure,

and the only material guarantee we had for the observation of the Treaty

was given up.

* * * * *

To return to the Dalai Lama. Throughout the year 1906 he seems to have

wandered about the borders of Tibet in the Kansu Province of China,

either in the vicinity of Sining or of Kanchow; but in the spring of

1908 he began making towards Peking. In March he was at Tai-yuan-fu,

where he put up in a specially made encampment outside the town; then he

marched to Wu-tai-shan, a holy place in North Shansi, the huge following

which accompanied him preying upon the country like a swarm of locusts,

and tending to create a general feeling of dissatisfaction.

From Wu-tai-shan he sent a messenger and a letter to our Minister at

Peking. The letter was merely complimentary, and was similar to what the

Dalai Lama had addressed to the other foreign representatives in Peking.

The messenger said the intention of the Dalai Lama was to return to

Tibet in response to the repeated petitions of the Lama Church. Sir John

Jordan told his visitor that he could not say how His Majesty’s

Government would view his intended return to Lhasa. During his absence

relations between India and Tibet had improved, and the rupture of

friendly relations in 1904 had been the outcome of misunderstanding,

which had arisen under the Dalai Lama’s administration. The messenger

explained that this had been due to the fact that the Dalai Lama’s

subordinates had persistently kept him in the dark as to the true

circumstances in State affairs; but the Dalai Lama now knew the facts,

and was sincerely desirous, on his return, to maintain friendship with

the Government of India, whose frontiers were those of Tibet.

Mr. R. F. Johnston, of the Colonial Service, District Officer at

Wei-hai-wei, and the author of the most remarkable of recent books of

travel, “From Peking to Mandalay,” paid the Dalai Lama a private visit

in July, and reported that he was treated in a dignified and friendly

manner. The Dalai Lama told him that he wished his relations with the

British to be friendly, and that “he looked forward to meeting British

officials from India when he returned to Tibet.” Mr. Johnston said he

appeared to treat his Chinese guard with contempt, and that there was

bad feeling between the Chinese and Tibetan soldiers, while the Chinese

officials complained that they were ignored by the Lama.

The Dalai Lama informed another visitor that he had received several

pressing invitations to go to Peking, and on July 19 an Imperial Decree

was issued, summoning him to the capital. He arrived at Peking by rail

on September 28, 1908. The reception at the station was not specially

remarkable. He was borne in his own chair to an improvised

reception-hall, where representatives of the Wai-wu-pu (Board of

Dependencies), and the Imperial Household awaited him; he was then

escorted to the Huang Ssu (Yellow Temple), outside the north wall of the

city. It had been built by the Emperor Shun-chih especially for the

reception of the Dalai Lama who came to the Chinese Court in 1653 to pay

homage to the new Manchu dynasty. He had been the first Chief Pontiff of

Tibet to visit Peking, and the present Dalai Lama was only the second.

An emissary from the Dalai Lama came to Sir John Jordan two days later,

with a message of greeting. The Minister acknowledged this, and gathered

that the Dalai Lama would be pleased to see him. Sir John Jordan was

not, however, prepared to visit the Dalai Lama till he had been received

in audience by the Emperor, and about this there was some difficulty.

The Chinese Government did not find the Pontiff an altogether tractable

personage to manage. In the rules for his reception it had been laid

down that “the Dalai Lama would respectfully greet the Emperor, and

kotow to thank his Majesty for the Imperial gifts.” Kotowing is kneeling

and bowing down till the forehead touches the ground. The Dalai Lama was

prepared to kneel, but not to touch the ground with his forehead. This

might be called “a puerile question of etiquette.” But etiquette means a

great deal in Asia, and the audience had to be put off eight days, till

this point and the question of the interchange of presents had been

satisfactorily arranged. The Dalai Lama was to offer forty-seven

different kinds of presents, but was to kneel and not kotow; it was

likewise laid down that when being entertained at a banquet by the

Emperor, he was to kneel on the Emperor’s entrance and departure.

Though the Russian and British Ministers worked in consultation with one

another in regard to visits to the Dalai Lama, and agreed to communicate

their intentions informally to the Wai-wu-pu, the Chinese evidently did

not care to encourage these visits. The foreign Ministers were informed

that the Dalai Lama would receive the members of their staffs on any day

except Sunday, between the hours of twelve and three, and that the

introduction would take place through the two Chinese officials in

attendance, one of whom was Chang Yin-t’ang, the negotiator of the

recent Anglo-Chinese Convention, and the same official who had done so

much in Tibet to stop direct intercourse with us. This was obviously

intended to reduce intercourse with the Dalai Lama to the level of

commonplace Western functions, and to deprive him of any further

opportunity of ventilating his grievances to the representatives of the

foreign Powers. That the Chinese should thus assert their claim to

control the external relations of Tibet was, perhaps, reasonable enough,

but our Minister thought it was open to doubt whether their methods

would, in the long-run, further their interests in that dependency. Some

Chinese were already beginning to doubt whether the Pontiff’s experience

at Peking was likely to make him an active partisan of Chinese policy on

his return to Tibet.

Sir John Jordan visited the Dalai Lama on October 20, at the Yellow

Temple. On arrival he was received by two Chinese officials, one of whom

was the afore-mentioned Mr. Chang. After a considerable delay in the

waiting-room—whether due to Mr. Chang or to the Dalai Lama is not

mentioned—he was conducted to the reception-hall, where he found the

Dalai Lama seated cross-legged on a yellow satin cushion, placed on an

altar-like table, about 4 feet high, which stood in a recess or alcove

draped in yellow satin. The Dalai Lama in appearance was of the normal

Tibetan type, thirty-five years old, slightly pock-marked, with swarthy

complexion, a small black moustache, prominent and large dark brown

eyes, and good white teeth. His hands worked nervously, and his head had

not been shaved for ten days.

A few remarks were interchanged regarding the climatic superiority of

North China over Tibet, and the Dalai Lama’s journey from Wu-tai-shan to

Peking, part of which was performed by train, and then the Dalai Lama

made reference to the proximity of India to Tibet. Some time ago, he

said, events had occurred which were not of his creating; they belonged

to the past, and it was his sincere desire that peace and amity should

exist between the two neighbouring countries. He desired the Minister to

report these words to the King-Emperor. The message was not in the first

instance clearly interpreted by the attendant Lama, but that this was

the Dalai Lama’s meaning appeared from what followed. Sir John said in

reply that the desire for peace and amity was fully reciprocated by his

country; and, on this being interpreted, the Dalai Lama returned to his

point, repeated the language he had previously used, and asked that it

should be reported to the King-Emperor. The Minister then added that he

would not omit to carry out this request. A pause ensued, and then the

Dalai Lama said that if the Minister had nothing further that he wished

to discuss, he would bid him God-speed, and, in doing so, presented him

with a pound or two of “longevity” jujubes. The reception lasted about

eight minutes. The whole proceedings were carried out with perfect

dignity.

Under the outward aspect of honouring the Dalai Lama, the Chinese now by

Imperial Decree emphatically stated his subordinate position. “The Dalai

Lama,” said the Decree, “already, by the Imperial commands of former

times, bears the title of the Great, Good, Self-existent Buddha of

Heaven. We now expressly confer upon him the addition to his title of

the Loyally Submissive Vicegerent, the Great, Good, Self-existent Buddha

of Heaven.” As Sir John Jordan observed, the additional attributes did

not leave much doubt as to the rôle which the Pontiff was expected to

play in the future. He was, above all else, to be the loyally submissive

Vicegerent of the Chinese Emperor, and his dependence on the Imperial

favour was to be further accentuated by the grant to him of a small

personal allowance, also provided for in the Decree.

The Decree laid down, too, that when he arrived in Tibet, he was “to

carefully obey the laws and ordinances of the sovereign State,” and in

all matters he was to “follow the established law of reporting to the

Imperial Resident in Tibet.” This, said our Minister, was the first

unequivocal declaration on the part of China that she regarded Tibet as

within her sovereignty, though in a conversation between Prince Chang

and Sir Ernest Satow the former had held that both land and people were

subject to China.

In preparing his expression of thanks for the honours conferred upon

him, the Dalai Lama sought to improve his position by proposing that he

should be able to memorialize the Throne direct, instead of through the

Resident, but the Board of Dependencies refused to allow him to do so.

The Dalai Lama left Peking on December 21 to proceed to Lhasa by way of

Tung-kuan, Si-ngan, Lanchou, and Kumbun—that is, by the northern route,

and not through Szechuan, as the Chinese Residents always travel. The

day before his departure he sent two of his Councillors to Sir John

Jordan to pay a visit of farewell on his behalf. In addition to some

presents of incense and other articles for the Minister, they brought a

“hata” (scarf), which they specially begged should be transmitted to His

Majesty the King-Emperor, with a message of respectful greetings from

His Holiness. The Councillors said that the Dalai Lama’s visit to Peking

had been a useful educative influence to himself and his advisers, and

had resulted, they hoped, in the resumption of the time-honoured

relations with China. It had also enabled them to ascertain the views of

His Majesty’s Government with regard to Tibet, and, after the assurances

our Minister had given them, they now went back thoroughly convinced

that so long as they faithfully carried out the terms of the recent

Convention, they could look forward with confidence to the maintenance

of friendly relations with His Majesty’s Indian Government. This they

considered one of the most valuable results of their journey. The Dalai

Lama had originally intended, they explained, to leave two or three of

his Councillors to represent his interests here, but this proposal had

for the time being been abandoned in deference to the views of the

Chinese Government.

So the Pontiff disappears into space again, and for a year nothing is

heard of him till a report comes from our agent in Tibet in October,

1909, that he had arrived at Nagchuka, a fortnight’s march from Lhasa.

He had by this time evidently heard of the proceedings of Chao (Chao

Erh-feng) in suppressing Lamaism and destroying the powers of the Lamas

in Eastern Tibet, for he now sends telegrams to the British Agent at

Gyantse, to be despatched from there to “Great Britain and all the

Ministers of Europe.” These reached Gyantse on December 7, 1909. The

first of them said that though the Chinese and the Tibetans were the

same, yet nowadays the Chinese officer, named Tao (? Chao) and the Amban

Len, who resides at Lhasa, were plotting together against the Tibetans,

and had not sent true copies of Tibetan protests to the Emperor, but had

altered them to suit their own evil purposes. They had brought many

troops into Tibet, and wished to abolish the Tibetans’ religion; the

Dalai Lama asked, therefore, that “all the other countries should

intervene and kindly withdraw the Chinese troops.” The second telegram,

to be sent after some days if no reply were received to the first, said

that in Tibet, in the case of several Chinese officers, “big worms were

eating and secretly injuring small worms.” The third telegram was to the

Wai-wu-pu, and contained the same expression, and added: “We have acted

frankly, and now they steal our heart.”

The Dalai Lama also at this time sent a messenger by Calcutta to Peking

with a letter to the British Minister, dated November 7, from the

Tacheng Temple, three days’ march outside Lhasa. This messenger reached

Peking on February 7. The letter gave expression to the Lama’s desire

that friendly relations with India might be maintained, and begged that

the bearer’s message might be listened to by the Minister. This message,

which was delivered on February 21, was to the effect that, having

arrived in Lhasa territory, the Dalai Lama was concerned to find that

active measures were being taken in the country by Chinese troops, and

hoped that anything our Minister could do would be done. This messenger,

though he had denied that he was the bearer of any other letters, as a

matter of fact also delivered similar letters to the Japanese, French,

and Russian Ministers, and the Russian Minister informed Mr. Max Müller,

our Chargé d’Affaires, that the letter to him was couched in more

definite terms than that addressed to Sir John Jordan, and asked

directly for Russian help against the aggression of the Chinese.

The point to note about these proceedings is that before the Dalai Lama

had even reached Lhasa, he was seriously concerned at the anti-Lamaist

proceedings of Chao in Eastern Tibet, and very suspicious of Chinese

intentions in regard to his own rule in Tibet.

He appears to have actually reached Lhasa on Christmas Day, 1909, and

shortly after sent a Lama to the Maharaj Kumar of Sikkim, whom he had

met at Peking, with a message to thank the Government of India for the

very generous treatment they extended to the Tibetan Government and

people during the stay of the British Mission in Lhasa, and for

withdrawing from the country after signing the Treaty. The Sikkim

Maharaj Kumar understood from this message that the Dalai Lama wished to

open friendly relations direct with the Government of India.

The situation in Lhasa on the Lama’s arrival was most critical. The

Tibetans were alarmed and enraged at the excesses which had been

committed by the Chinese troops in Eastern Tibet, especially in the

destruction of a large monastery near Li’tang, in retaliation for the

murder of a Chinese Amban; and the Tibetans had a story that when they

destroyed the monastery the Chinese soldiers used the sacred Buddhist

books for making soles to their boots.

An official was sent by the Dalai Lama and Council to our Trade Agent to

represent the situation to him. He reached Gyantse on January 31 of this

year, and said that the Chinese troops were still at Chiamdo, but as

Tibetan troops were massed at only half a day’s march from that place

there was not the least doubt that there would be bloodshed if the

Chinese persisted in coming to Lhasa.

At Lhasa itself the Tibetans had continually requested the Chinese

Resident to arrange that these Chinese troops should not be brought to

Lhasa, but he refused to take any action. After the return of the Dalai

Lama to Lhasa, the representatives of Nepal and Bhutan, together with

some of the leading merchants and Mohammedan head-men in Lhasa, again

approached the Chinese Resident as well as the Dalai Lama, with a

request that he should settle the dispute as to whether or not these

troops should be allowed in Lhasa. In the meanwhile the Tibetans had

sent a considerable force to face the Chinese troops, which, as

previously stated, had arrived under Chao-Erh-Feng at Chiamdo, a place

tributary to, but not directly ruled by, China. The Tibetan force was

meant to intimidate the Chinese, but, like the poor troops at Guru, had

orders not to fight.

The account subsequently given by the Tibetan Minister of what next

happened was that on February 9 the Assistant Resident, Wen, had an

interview with the Dalai Lama in the Potala. The Nepalese representative

and Tibetan traders were also present. A promise was then given by Wen

not to bring more than 1,000 Chinese troops to be stationed at Gyantse,

Phari, Chumbi, and Khamba Jong. Wen further promised that there should

be no bringing to Lhasa of fresh troops, by which I suppose he meant

that the garrison of Lhasa itself should not be increased. And he

undertook to give them a promise to the same effect in writing.

Tibetans are proverbially hazy in their accounts of what was actually

said or done on particular occasions, and the Chinese Government

afterwards denied that Wen could possibly have given any such promise.

But the Ministers did show Mr. Bell, the Political Officer in Sikkim, a

letter which they asserted they had received from Wen. Wen wrote: “I had

a personal interview on February 9, 1910, at the Potala, with His

Holiness the Dalai Lama, in regard to the orders sent from Szechuan

about sending 1,000 Chinese troops to Lhasa....” He then agreed that the

distribution of the troops to guard the frontier would be considered on

their arrival at Lhasa; the Lamas would not be harmed or their

monasteries destroyed, and there would be no diminution in the Dalai

Lama’s spiritual power. Wen further stated in this letter that the Dalai

Lama had agreed that the Chinese troops would have no resistance offered

to them; that the Tibetan troops then assembled would be dismissed to

their homes; that the Dalai Lama would thank the Emperor, through the

Resident, for the great kindness shown him; and that great respect

should, as usual, be paid by the Dalai Lama to the Chinese Resident.

This letter was written on February 10, and on the same day the Dalai

Lama replied that orders for the withdrawal of the Tibetan troops and

for the carriage of the Resident’s mails had been issued. The report to

the Emperor of his arrival in Lhasa was also forwarded. But the Dalai

Lama drew the Resident’s attention to the fact that while he had stated

that there would be no diminution of his spiritual power, he had made no

mention of his temporal power.

From this correspondence, taken with other actions of the Chinese, it

was reasonably evident that the Chinese meant to take the temporal power

from the Dalai Lama. But the point whether the Resident actually

promised that more than 1,000 Chinese troops should not be brought to

Lhasa is not clear. Anyhow, there is no mention of any more than 1,000,

and no intimation that more than 1,000 were coming, or request that they

might be allowed to. In India British troops are not sent into a Native

State without at least an intimation, and when the Resident had made no

mention of more than 1,000 being sent, the Tibetan Government had some

justification for complaining when more than 1,000 arrived.

For this is what now happened. The Chinese, to the number of 2,000,

advanced from Chiamdo, where, on January 20, a small fight took place

between the Chinese and Tibetans; eight Chinese and fifteen Tibetans

being killed, and eighteen of the latter being captured, all of whom

were at once beheaded. The Tibetan troops then withdrew, and on February

12 forty Chinese mounted infantry and 200 infantry arrived suddenly in

Lhasa, while 1,000 more were only two marches behind. A crowd of unarmed

Tibetans went to look at the new arrivals and the Chinese fired into the

midst, killing two Tibetan policemen, and wounding a high Tibetan

official and an old woman.

This is the Tibetan version of what happened. The Chinese asserted that,

although the Resident had gone to meet the Dalai Lama, yet the latter

had refused to see the Resident again to discuss matters amicably; had

prevented the Resident and his escort from obtaining the usual supplies,

and by refusing transport had endeavoured to cut off communication with

China. Bodies of Tibetans had impeded the march of the troops from the

first, and finally the supplies collected for the Chinese troops had

been burnt, although it had been carefully explained to the Dalai Lama

that the troops were coming as police, and to protect trade-marts, and

that no alteration whatever in the internal administration or

interference with the Church was in contemplation. The right to station

troops in Tibet had always rested with China, and the object of sending

the recent reinforcements was merely to secure observance of Treaty

rights, to protect the trade-routes and to maintain peace and order.

Such was the account given by the President of the Wai-wu-pu to our

Minister at Peking. But the Dalai Lama, remembering what had happened

just recently in Eastern Tibet under Chao Erh-feng, who was now himself

at Chiamdo, was not so confident as to what these additional troops were

meant for. When the new arrivals entered Lhasa on February 12, three of

his chief Ministers were with him in the Potala, and during the meeting

news came that the Chinese had despatched ten soldiers to the house of

each Minister to arrest him. Upon hearing this, and that more than the

1,000 Chinese troops had entered Lhasa territory, the Dalai Lama and his

Ministers decided to fly, and they left Lhasa that same night.

The Dalai himself gave these to Mr. Bell as his reasons for flying. He

said that the promise of the Emperor of China that he would retain his

former power and position in Tibet had been broken since his return to

Lhasa. The Chinese police already in Lhasa and the forty mounted

infantry had fired upon inoffensive Tibetans, and he fled because he

feared he would be made a prisoner in the Potala, and that he would be

deprived of all temporal power.

He left Lhasa with the Minister and Councillors, who were afraid to

return to their houses, at midnight on February 12. Accompanying him

were about 200 soldiers and various officials and attendants. The next

day they reached the ferry over the Brahmaputra River at Chaksam, where

he left the soldiers to check any Chinese who might come in pursuit,

while he himself crossed the river and proceeded to Nagartse which he

reached on the 15th—very rapid travelling.

The Chinese did pursue him, which is a point to note, as tending to

increase the suspicion that they really had meant to make a prisoner of

him. A fight took place at Chaksam, in which several Chinese—one report

says sixty—were killed, but after which the Tibetans dispersed. And,

according to the Dalai Lama, 400 Chinese troops were sent by the direct

road from Lhasa to Phari, and another party of 300 along the road to

Gyantse, while rewards were promised to anyone who might effect his

capture or might capture or kill his Ministers. Some of the Chinese

letters offering these rewards fell into his hands.

The Dalai Lama himself had meanwhile pressed rapidly on. On the 16th he

crossed the Karo-la, the scene of Colonel Brander’s fight, and reached

Ralung. Nor was reached on the 17th, Dochen on the 18th, and Phari on

the 19th. Here lots were cast as to whether he should proceed _viâ_

Bhutan, Khamba Jong, or Gnatong. The lot fell on the last route, and,

reinforced by about 100 men of the Chumbi Valley, he was escorted as far

as Yatung on the 20th. With still further reinforcements and with fresh

supplies he was escorted up to the Sikkim frontier on the 21st, and that

same day reached Gnatong, on the British side.

With the British Trade Agent at Yatung he left a message saying that it

was his intention to go to India to consult the British Government. He

had appointed a Regent and Acting Minister at Lhasa, but he and the

Ministers who accompanied him had their seals with them. He looked to

the British for protection, and trusted that the relations between the

British Government and Tibet would be that of a father to his children.

The Viceroy sent instructions to the authorities at Darjiling to show

him every courtesy on his arrival there, about the 27th, but to treat

his visit as private. The effect of the flight of the Lama and his

Ministers, not only in Nepal, Sikkim, and Bhutan, but also on Indian

opinion, would, Lord Minto said, be profound, for in all these countries

he was regarded with veneration and awe. He thought it of the first

importance, therefore, to treat the Dalai Lama with high consideration.

At Darjiling, on March 3, Mr. Bell, the Political Officer in Sikkim, had

an interview with him. The Lama rose from his seat to receive Mr. Bell,

and shook hands with him. He asked him to telegraph and thank the

Viceroy for the arrangements for the comfort of himself and his party.

Then, when he had dismissed his attendants and given an account of his

flight and his reasons for leaving Lhasa, he told Mr. Bell that when

Ugyen Kazi, the Bhutan agent, had presented him with Lord Curzon’s

letter, before the time of the Mission, he would not receive it, since

he had agreed with the Chinese to conduct his foreign affairs through

Chinese intermediaries only. In like manner, when I had written to him

in the course of the Tibet Mission, the Chinese refused to let him send

a reply. Now the Chinese had broken their promises, as already related,

and he had come to India for the purpose of asking the help of the

British against the Chinese. He stated that unless the British

Government intervened, China would occupy Tibet and oppress it, would

destroy the Buddhist religion there and the Tibetan Government, and

would govern the country by Chinese officials. Eventually, he added, her

power would be extended to India: there were already 2,000 Chinese

troops in Lhasa and its neighbourhood, others were following, and it was

not for Tibet alone that so large a number of troops were required.

This statement of the Dalai Lama’s was borne out by information received

from Gyantse, which said that 2,000 Chinese troops from Chiamdo had

arrived at Lhasa in February, and that the Tsarong Sha-pé (the General

who had met Mr. White and me at Khamba Jong, and who afterwards, raised

to the position of Councillor, was one of those who negotiated the

Treaty) was the only high Tibetan official left in Lhasa, and had to

obtain the Resident’s permission for all his acts. The Gyantse report

added that the chief opponent of the Tibetans was the Resident Len, who,

according to the common talk of Lhasa, desired to take the entire

administration into his own hands, and was very suspicious of British

influence in Tibet. The Tibetans believed that the first thing he would

do if the Ministers returned would be to cut their heads off and force

the Dalai Lama to give him the power. Chinese soldiers had been posted

on each side of the Brahmaputra at Chaksam to prevent any Tibetan

crossing without a pass signed by the Resident.

Later information received from the Ministers showed that whereas the

normal Chinese garrison of Lhasa and surrounding country was only 500,

there were now altogether 3,400 Chinese soldiers there—viz., 2,400 in

Lhasa; 500 at Gyamda, ten days’ journey east of Lhasa; and 500 at

Lharigo, fourteen days’ march north-east of Lhasa. The Ministers also

stated that the intention of dismissing the Ministers who accompanied

the Dalai Lama to India had been announced by Amban Len. The Dalai

Lama’s palace near Lhasa, known as Norbaling, was stated to have been

taken possession of by Chinese soldiers, who were endeavouring to

construct barracks capable of holding 1,000 Chinese troops at Lhasa.

Besides this, the Minister reported that Chinese police were being

posted throughout the country by the Amban, and where Tibetan police

existed they were being dismissed. The Amban had removed thirty good

rifles from the Tibetan armoury, had closed the Tibetan arsenal and

Tibetan mint, and proposed the confiscation of all rifles throughout the

country in the possession of Tibetans. The Regent had been forbidden by

him to perform his religious duties, the Amban saying another Lama would

be chosen for this purpose. The Amban had broken open the sealed doors

of the Dalai Lama’s palace at Norbaling, near Lhasa, was taking steps to

deprive the Ministers who accompanied Dalai Lama to Darjiling of their

appointments, and had posted soldiers in most of their houses.

From Darjiling the Dalai Lama proceeded to Calcutta, where, on March 14,

after an exchange of formal visits, he had a private interview with the

Viceroy. He expressed his reliance on the British Government and his

gratitude for their hospitality. The difficulties between Tibet and

Britain in 1888 and 1903 had been caused by China. The promises of the

Emperor and Dowager Empress had been disregarded by the Amban, who had

clearly shown that he would leave the Tibetans no power. He appealed to

us to secure the observance of the right which the Tibetans had of

dealing direct with the British. But he further desired the withdrawal

of Chinese influence, so that his position might be that of the fifth

Dalai Lama who had conducted negotiations, as the ruler of a friendly

State, with the Emperor. There should also be withdrawal of Chinese

troops. The Treaties of 1890 and 1906, to which they were not parties,

Could not be recognized by the Tibetans. He was cut off from

communication with the Regent whom he had left at Lhasa, although he and

his Ministers were the Government of Tibet, and had the seals of office.

All travellers were stopped and searched by the Chinese, and, unless

sent secretly, no official letters got through. He had received some

private letters. He would not return to Lhasa unless this matter was

settled satisfactorily. What his eventual destination would be he could

not say; he wished to return to Darjiling for the present. After the

violation of the promises which the Dowager Empress gave him, he would

not trust the Peking Government’s written assurance. Intrigue on his

part against the Chinese he denied. The Amban was altogether hostile,

and a hostile policy had been adopted by the Chinese. He repeated his

statement that the Chinese had designs on Sikkim, Bhutan, and Nepal. So

far as Tibet was concerned, there was no need for the large force of

2,700 troops which, according to his information, the Chinese had in and

round Lhasa. The Lama also gave his account of his relations with

Dorjieff, who, he said, was a purely spiritual adviser, and of the

treatment of the letter from Lord Curzon. He inquired, at the conclusion

of the interview, how his appeal was answered. In reply Lord Minto said

that at present he could give no reply at all, but that he was very glad

to make his acquaintance, to extend hospitality, and to hear his views,

which would be placed before His Majesty’s Government. The Dalai Lama

again thanked Lord Minto warmly for his hospitality and took his leave.

On the return of the Dalai Lama and his Ministers to Darjiling further

representations were made by the latter to Mr. Bell. They said that the

only offence of themselves and the Tibetan people was the struggle to

maintain the freedom of their country, and they asked[58] that a British

officer might be sent to Lhasa or Gyantse to inquire into Chinese

conduct, and that “an alliance under which each party should help the

other on the same terms as the arrangement which they said exists

between the Government of India and Nepal might be concluded by the

Government of India with Tibet.”

A few days later, on April 18, they requested[59] that the aggression of

the Chinese might be stopped while discussion between the British and

Chinese Governments was in progress, and that permission to communicate

with their deputies at Lhasa might be given to the Tibetan Government in

Darjiling. Failing this, they requested the despatch to Lhasa of British

officers with soldiers to inquire into and discuss the present condition

of affairs with the Chinese.

Was there ever a more tragic reversal of an old position? Warren

Hastings, Bogle, Turner, Lord Curzon, and we in 1904, all trying to

induce the Tibetans to be ordinarily civil! And now the Grand Lama and

his entire Government come to _us_, come to beg us to uphold their

_right_ of communicating direct with us, and to send British

officers—and not merely officers, but soldiers—to Lhasa, and to form an

alliance. In all history there can hardly be a case of a more dramatic

turning of the tables. Yet, when all we had been striving after for a

century and a half was now being pressed upon us, we informed the Dalai

Lama we were precluded from interfering. When the Tibetans did not want

us we fought our way to Lhasa to insist upon their having us; when they

did want us, and had come all the way from Lhasa to get us, we turned

them the most frigid of shoulders.

The reason for this attitude was said to be[60] that the Anglo-Tibetan

and Anglo-Chinese Convention specially precluded us from interfering in

the internal administration of the country. But if the Tibetan

Government themselves wished a change, there was no reason why the first

objection should hold; and if the latter was the obstacle, it is

inconceivable why we ourselves should have made it, and thus in yet one

other way tied our own hands. It was because the Chinese had so grossly

mismanaged Tibetan affairs that the Indian Government had to undertake

two expeditions on the Tibetan frontier. And we must have taken some

unfortunate step if, when the Chinese were again mismanaging Tibet, we

were precluded by an engagement with them from taking what action we

liked to keep this frontier quiet.

We were, however, not altogether inactive. On January 31, 1910, the

Government of India, when they had first heard through the official sent

by the Dalai Lama to our agent at Gyantse that the Chinese were

advancing into Tibet, had suggested[61] that a representation should be

made at Peking pointing out that disorder on our frontier could not be

viewed by us with indifference, resulting as it possibly might in the

_status quo_ being entirely changed, and in conditions being set up

wholly inconsistent with the spirit of our agreements with Tibet and

China, agreements by which the continuance of a Tibetan Government was

recognized. The Chinese Government might also be told, they considered,

that we should be compelled in self-defence to strengthen our escorts at

Yatung and Gyantse if unsettlement of the country continued, though

assurance might at the same time be given to both China and Russia that

the maintenance of the _status quo_ under the Treaties and Trade

Regulations was all that we desired.

There was nine days’ delay—perhaps due to the General Election—in

considering this telegram in the India Office, and during those fateful

days events were advancing apace at Lhasa. But on February 9, the day

when the Dalai Lama and the Chinese Associate Resident were consulting

together in the Potala, Lord Morley informed[62] Sir Edward Grey that he

would be glad if he would see fit to address the Chinese Government in

the sense suggested by the Indian Government.

Sir Edward Grey fully appreciated[63] the serious complications which

might arise upon the Indian frontier as the result of an attempt on the

part of the Chinese to deprive the Tibetans of their local autonomy, but

before deciding on the course to be adopted he thought it desirable to

ascertain the views of Sir John Jordan, who was accordingly telegraphed

to in this sense on February 11, the day before the Dalai Lama fled from

Lhasa.

Sir John Jordan, one of the best Ministers we have had in Peking, had

unfortunately to leave Peking at this time, and since the reply of the

Chargé d’Affaires, Mr. Max Müller, was received the situation had so

altered that the terms in which the Chinese were to be addressed had to

be reconsidered. It was true, said Lord Morley, in addressing the

Foreign Office, that, in view both of our Treaty relations with China

and Russia and of the history of our past policy in regard to Tibet, the

position of Great Britain is somewhat delicate, and that it is difficult

for us to make an effective protest. But he was strongly of opinion that

it should be pointed out emphatically to the Chinese Government (1) that

Great Britain, while disclaiming any desire to interfere in the internal

administration of Tibet, cannot be indifferent to disturbances of the

peace in a country which is both our neighbour and is on intimate terms

with other neighbouring States upon our frontier, and especially with

Nepal, whom we could not prevent from taking such steps to protect her

interests as she might think necessary in the circumstances; (2) that,

in view of our Treaty relations with both Tibet and China, His Majesty’s

Government had the right to expect that the Chinese Government would at

least have tendered friendly explanations before embarking on a policy

which, in the absence of such explanations, could not but appear

intended to subvert the political conditions set up by the Anglo-Tibetan

Convention and confirmed by the Anglo-Chinese Convention; and (3) that

His Majesty’s Government must claim that, whatever the intentions of the

Chinese Government might be as regards the future of Tibet, an effective

Tibetan Government should be maintained, with whom we could, when

necessary, treat in the manner provided by those two Conventions.

Sir Edward Grey concurred in Lord Morley’s views, and directed Mr. Max

Müller on February 23 to make a representation to the Chinese Government

in the above sense. In reply to this, Liang-tun-yen, the President of

the Wai-wu-pu, informed Mr. Max Müller on February 25 that the force

despatched to Lhasa consisted of not more than 2,000 men, under a

Brigadier, but not under Chao Erh Feng, who was apparently still at

Chiamdo. He wished to assure the British Government that the Chinese

intentions were merely to enable the country to be policed and more

effective control than formerly to be exercised, particularly in regard

to Tibet’s obligations to neighbouring States. The Chinese desired no

modification of the _status quo_, and no alteration in any way of

internal administration. It had not been their intention that the Dalai

Lama should be deprived of his power, and repeated messages to that

effect had been sent him. His title had already been taken from him in

1904, and subsequently restored to him. He would now be punished

personally by deposition and by a new Dalai Lama being appointed; but

unless unforeseen circumstances rendered such a course necessary, no

further aggressive action in Tibet was contemplated.

On returning home from his interview Mr. Max Müller found a note from

the Chinese Government communicating the terms of an Imperial Edict

issued that morning deposing the Dalai Lama and giving instructions for

the election of a successor. This note said that “the Dalai Lama had

flown from Tibetan territory in the night of February 12; he [the

Resident at Lhasa] knew not whither, but that officers had been sent in

all directions to follow him up, attend upon him, and protect him.”

The Imperial Decree said that the Dalai Lama had been the recipient of

Imperial favour and abounding kindness, but that since he assumed

control of the administration he had been proud, extravagant, lewd, and

slothful beyond parallel, and vice and perversity such as his had never

before been witnessed. Moreover, he had been violent and disorderly, had

dared to disobey the Imperial commands, had oppressed the Tibetans, and

precipitated hostilities. In July, 1904, he had fled during the

disorders, and was denounced by the Imperial Resident in Tibet as of

uncertain reputation, and a Decree was issued depriving him temporarily

of his title. When he came to Peking he was received in audience, given

an addition to his title, and presented with numerous gifts. Every

indulgence was shown to him in order to manifest the Emperor’s

compassion. The past was forgiven in the hope of a better future, and

the Emperor’s intention was generous in the extreme. The present entry

of Szechuan troops into Tibet was specially for the preservation of

order and the protection of the trade-marts, and the Tibetans should not

have been suspicious because of it; but the aforesaid Dalai, after his

return to Tibet, spread reports and became rebellious, defamed the

Resident, and stopped supplies to Chinese officers. Numerous efforts

were made to bring him to reason, but he would not listen; and when

Lien-yü telegraphed that, on the arrival of the Szechuan troops in

Lhasa, the Dalai Lama, without reporting his intention, had fled during

the night of February 12, and that his whereabouts were unknown, the

Emperor commanded the Resident to take steps to bring him back and make

satisfactory arrangements for him. The aforesaid Dalai Lama had been

guilty of treachery over and over again, and had placed himself outside

the pale of the Imperial bounty. To his superiors he had shown

ingratitude, and he had failed to respond to the expectations of the

people below him. He was not a fit head of the saints.

He was, therefore, to be deprived of the title of Dalai Lama as a

punishment, and to be treated as an ordinary person, and the Resident in

Tibet was to at once institute a search for a number of male children

bearing miraculous signs, to inscribe their names on tablets, and,

according to precedent, place them in the golden urn, from which one

should be drawn as the true re-embodiment of the previous generations of

Dalai Lamas.

In a written communication to the British Minister, dated February 27,

the Chinese confirmed their verbal reply. They were sending troops “to

tranquillize the country and protect the trade-marts.” The troops which

were entering Tibet were “in no way different from a police force,” and

were to protect the trade-marts and “see that the Tibetans conformed to

the treaties.” “But the Dalai Lama does nothing but run away on one

pretext or another,” continued the note “and must really be considered

to have renounced his position voluntarily.” But “under no circumstances

would the dismissal or retention of a Dalai Lama be used to alter the

political situation in any way.”

In a further interview which Mr. Max Müller had with the Chinese Grand

Councillor, Natung, on March 5, the Chinese position was again stated.

He showed, by sketching his career, how impossible it was to place any

confidence in the Dalai Lama. Ever since the Lama assumed direction of

affairs in 1895 he had been a constant source of trouble to China, and

our expedition in 1904 was the result of his intrigues and wild

disregard of Treaty obligations. On that occasion he had fled from Tibet

without permission, but all along he had been treated with

consideration, and his insubordination borne with, by the Chinese

Government; the latter had, however, been compelled to depose him and

appoint another, owing to his proceedings since his return to Lhasa

territory and his flight from Lhasa without just cause. On Mr. Max

Müller asking for definite instances of insubordinate conduct, Natung

said that although, on the Lama’s arrival, the Amban had gone to meet

him, yet the former, during the fifty days he was in Lhasa, had refused

to see the Amban again to discuss matters amicably; had prevented the

Amban and his escort from obtaining the usual supplies, and by refusing

transport according to regulations had endeavoured to cut communications

with China. Bodies of Tibetans had impeded the march of the troops from

the first, and finally the supplies collected for the Chinese troops

were burnt, although it had been carefully explained to the Dalai Lama

that the troops were coming as police and to protect trade-marts, and

that no alteration whatever in the internal administration or

interference with the Church was in contemplation. On Mr. Max Müller

telling Natung of the incidents reported to have occurred in Lhasa at

the time of the flight of the Dalai Lama, he said that no such

information had reached the Chinese Government; he would not assert that

no incidents had accompanied the entry of the Chinese troops, but,

seeing that the strictest orders to the contrary had been given to the

troops, he could not credit statements as to the unprovoked attacks on

Tibetans. It was not true, moreover, that there had been any diminution

of position or power of the Dalai Lama, and he could not believe that a

promise that only 1,000 troops would came to Lhasa had been made by the

Amban; without the Chinese Government’s authorization, which had not

been given, such a promise could not be made.

Natung emphatically stated that newspaper reports as to the proposal by

the Viceroy and Chao Erh-feng for conversion of Tibet into a province of

China were without a shadow of foundation. His Excellency said that the

Chinese Government entertained no thoughts of such a course, which would

be a contravention of the treaty stipulations between England and China.

Mr. Max Müller was reminded by Natung that blame was formerly imputed to

the Chinese Government because they did not enforce observation of

Treaty engagements on the part of the Tibetans, and that the signature

of the Trade Regulations of 1908 by a Tibetan delegate had been insisted

on by His Majesty’s Government, because they thought that Regulations

would otherwise not be conformed to by Tibetans. He stated, as regards

troops in Tibet, that none of Chao Erh-feng’s force had entered Lhasa

territory, that force being still in Derge and Chiamdo. The 2,000 men

sent to Lhasa were a separate body of troops from Szechuan, and, beyond

the Amman’s normal escort and the guard at the post-stations, these were

the only additional troops in the country. The right to station troops

in Tibet had always rested with China, and the object of sending the

recent reinforcements was merely to secure observance of Treaty

obligations, to protect the trade-marts, and to maintain peace and

order. The person of the Dalai Lama himself, he assured the Minister

repeatedly, was alone affected by the steps which the Chinese Government

had taken. Precedents for removing Lamas were numerous; in 1710, owing

to misconduct, the sixth Dalai Lama had been removed. No action would be

taken which would disturb the Lama Church or the existing administrative

system in Tibet. It was absurd to suppose that the Chinese Government

would interfere with Lamaism, as there were Lamaist functionaries at the

Peking Court, and millions of Lamaists among the Mongol subjects of

China. With regard to the charges that monasteries had been burnt, one

only had been destroyed by Chao Erh-feng, more than a year previously,

because a Chinese Amban had been ambushed and killed, together with

thirty of his escort, by the Lamas.

On the receipt of the Chinese reply, Lord Morley telegraphed to the

Viceroy for the views of the Government of India; but at the same time

he impressed on them that they should bear in mind that it was essential

that a strictly non-committal attitude on all points at issue between

China and Tibet should be observed.

The Viceroy replied on March 12[64] that it appeared that all power at

Lhasa had been taken by the Chinese into their own hands. The only high

official left could not act without consulting the Chinese Resident.

Reports from Trade Agents stated that the Chinese did not allow the

Tibetans to deal with them direct. Various reports as to Chinese

aggressive and oppressive action were in the possession of Government,

but their authentication was difficult. It appeared to be the case,

however, that there was no longer any Tibetan authority in existence,

and it was impossible to reconcile with established facts the statements

of the Chinese that the power and position of the Dalai Lama had not

diminished, and that no alterations in internal administration were

contemplated. Copies of the correspondence that had passed between the

Dalai Lama and the Assistant Minister at Lhasa had been given to Mr.

Bell. This correspondence, in the genuineness of which there was every

reason to believe, showed (1) that the intention was that the Dalai

Lama’s temporal power should be taken from him; and (2) that the

despatch of only 1,000 troops was contemplated. Lama Buddhists and

Tibetans would not recognize that the Dalai Lama had been deposed

spiritually, and the latter would, therefore, be a source of trouble to

the Chinese. There was no reason why the Dalai Lama should have our

support, but confidence would be restored on the frontier by his

restoration, and it would be proof of a desire to maintain the _status

quo_. The Suzerainty of China was denied by Tibetan Ministers in

conversation with Mr. Bell, but if China wished to be friendly it might

still be possible to bring about a _modus vivendi_.

The Viceroy suggested that in any case our own interests must be

protected. There was unsettlement in our frontier States. Rumours of

location of a garrison at Yatung and the number of troops in Tibet

constituted, in the opinion of the military authorities, a menace to the

peace of our border. The reform, not the abolition, of the Tibetan

Government was contemplated in the edict of March 9, 1908. The Trade

Regulations of 1908 had been violated in the following respects:

Administration and policing of trade-marts had, inconsistently with

Article III., been taken over by Chinese, and direct dealings between

our Agents and Tibetans had been prevented. The Tibetan Government was

recognized by the Convention of 1904, which was recognized by Article I.

of the Convention of 1906. A large slice of Tibetan territory had been

lopped off by the Chinese, who had forcibly occupied and dispossessed

the Tibetans of Chiamdo, of Troya, and of Tsa Kalho—provinces of Eastern

Tibet. It seemed necessary in any case, therefore, that the Chinese

Government should be required to give definite assurances on the

following points: (1) The limitation of the Chinese garrison in Tibet to

a number adequate for maintenance of order internally. (2) The

maintenance of a real Tibetan Government. (3) The policing of the

trade-marts by Tibetans under Chinese officers, if necessary. (4) The

appointment at Lhasa of an Amban less hostile to British interests. (5)

The issue of instructions to Chinese local officers to co-operate with

British Trade Agents and not to hinder our officers and the Tibetans

from dealing direct with one another. It might be advisable that at this

stage the Chinese Government should be informed that the British

Government must reserve the right to retain and increase the escorts at

Yatung and Gyantse, if necessary, in view of the change in the _status

quo_, unfriendliness of local Chinese officers, and disturbed state of

Tibet. Individual Chinese might get out of hand, though it was

improbable that our agencies would be attacked by the Chinese.

Lord Morley, in forwarding these views of the Indian Government to the

Foreign Office, observed that it appeared that the Chinese Government

was deliberately making its suzerainty over Tibet effective, and that

the result of its proceedings would be the substitution of a strong

internal administration for the feeble rule of the Dalai Lama. It was

necessary, therefore, to consider how this change would affect, in the

first place, British-Indian relations, commercial and political, with

Tibet; and, secondly, the relations of the three States of Nepal,

Sikkim, and Bhutan, lying outside the administrative border of British

India, but under British control or protection, with the Government of

India and with their neighbour in Tibet. As to the first of these

questions, it seemed to be sufficient at this stage to take note of the

assurance of the Chinese Government that it would fulfil all treaty

obligations affecting Tibet, and to inform it that His Majesty’s

Government would expect that pending negotiations and representations on

the subjects of tariff, Trade Agents, monopolies, tea trade, and so

forth, would not be prejudiced by delay or by any change of

administration. The second question was, however, one of greater urgency

and importance, because delay might create mistrust in the States

concerned, and even encourage China to raise claims which would

hereafter lead to trouble. It seemed to be advisable that a clear

intimation should at once be made to China that the British Government

could not allow any administrative changes in Tibet to affect or

prejudice the integrity of Nepal or the rights of a State so closely

allied to the Government of India. Sikkim had long been under British

protection. By a recent Treaty the foreign affairs of Bhutan were under

the control of the British Government. The communication, therefore,

which it was proposed to make to the Chinese Government relative to

Nepal might well cover the other two States on the borders of British

India. While, then, it was suggested that the Chinese Government should

be informed that the British Government expected the Treaty obligations

of Tibet and China in respect to Tibet to be scrupulously maintained,

and, moreover, were prepared to protect the integrity and rights of

their allies, the States of Nepal, Sikkim, and Bhutan, the Secretary of

State for India proposed to instruct the Viceroy to check any action on

their part which was not authorized by the Government of India.

Should China fail in performing her Treaty obligations in Tibet after

the receipt of the intimation, the breach of agreement could form the

subject of precise protest and negotiation. But in the meantime it was

undoubtedly desirable to press the Chinese Government to send strict

orders to their local officials to co-operate with our own officers in a

friendly manner, since without such friendly relations (of which there

had recently been a marked absence), friction between the two

Governments was certain to arise. It might also be well, thought Lord

Morley, to impress upon the Chinese the inadvisability of locating

troops upon or in the neighbourhood of the frontiers of India and the

adjoining States in such numbers as would necessitate corresponding

movements on the part of the Government of India and the rulers of the

States concerned. The Tibetans, though ignorant, were peaceable people,

and it was unlikely that a very large Chinese force would be necessary

for such simple police arrangements as were contemplated by Article 12

of the Trade Regulations.

Adopting these proposals, Sir Edward Grey telegraphed to Mr. Max Müller

on April 8, to make a representation to the Chinese Government in their

sense.

* * * * *

All we know further than this is that two battalions of infantry, four

guns, and some sappers have been sent by us to the Sikkim frontier, to

be ready, if necessary, to proceed into Tibet to protect the Trade

Agents. And so the story ends much as when it began, except that while

formerly it was the Tibetans who were supposed to be the most

impenetrable and unsociable, it is now the Chinese who are presenting

the real obstacles to any reasonable intercourse between India and

Tibet.

-----

Footnote 54:

Blue-book, IV., p. 98.

Footnote 55:

Blue-book, IV., p. 185. It is not clear whether this was Mr. Toller or

someone else.

Footnote 56:

Blue-book, IV., p. 41.

Footnote 57:

Blue-book, IV., p. 136.

Footnote 58:

Blue-book, IV., p. 215.

Footnote 59:

_Ibid._, p. 217.

Footnote 60:

Blue-book, IV., p. 218.

Footnote 61:

_Ibid._, p. 188.

Footnote 62:

Blue-book, IV., p. 189.

Footnote 63:

_Ibid._

Footnote 64:

Blue-book, IV., p. 205.

-----

------------------

CHAPTER XXIV

SOME CONCLUSIONS

The close of the long narrative of our efforts since 1773 to effect the

single object of harmonizing our relations with Tibet having now been

reached, it may be useful to draw here some practical conclusions from

our past experience which may be a help for future action. And first I

would make some observations on the agency through which our intentions

have been carried into effect.

On several occasions in the course of this narrative I have referred to

the relations of local officers with their Provincial Governments, of

these Local Governments with the Supreme Government in India, and of the

Indian Government with the Imperial Government in England. Since the

days of Warren Hastings there has been a marked tendency towards

centralization. More and more control has been exercised by London over

Simla, by Simla over the Provincial Governments, by them, again, over

their local officials. This tendency has been accentuated in the last

few years. It has never been more pronounced than at the present time.

And if the conduct of Tibetan affairs since 1873 may be taken as an

example—as I think it may—there is not much evidence that it is

producing satisfactory results.

It has been said, indeed, that if ever we lose India it will be in

London. I am not of those who think we ever shall lose India, for I have

much too great a faith in the common sense and spirit of my countrymen.

Nor do I say that we are worse than other peoples in “trusting the man

on the spot.” I think we are very much better. It requires a really big

people to give their representatives rope; and a big people we are, and

in the main the British nation has supported its Viceroys, Governors and

their Agents better than any other nation have supported theirs, or we

should not be in India now.

But of late the discretion and responsibility of the Government of India

have been most seriously diminished. Secretaries of State, partly of

their own initiative, and partly because active bands of faddists exert

a disproportionately great influence upon them, while the more sensible

members of the House of Commons, on account of their silence, exercise a

disproportionately small influence, have interfered more and more in

even the details of Indian administration. The system is no longer one

of selecting the best available men, and then supporting them, on the

assumption that in the unusual conditions under which we govern India,

they will rule it better than anyone can from England. The system is now

becoming one of directing the Government from England on lines which an

ignorant British electorate is most likely to approve. The result is a

general weakening all down the line. No one feels responsibility. And

the British elector, who has been held up to the Englishman in India as

the man who ultimately controls his actions, and who should, therefore,

have the responsibility, simply shrugs his shoulders and asks what India

has to do with him.

And while British administrators in India thus have less and less

confidence placed in them, they on their part have little cause to be

placing increasing confidence in their controllers and rulers. Those who

control Indian affairs from London have, in ninety-nine cases out of a

hundred, never been in India. They are as a rule personally unacquainted

with Indian conditions. And the Cabinet is not composed of men with a

wide and long experience of Imperial affairs; of Indian and Colonial, as

well as English, questions; and of European and Asiatic diplomacy. It

may occasionally include an ex-Viceroy of India, but it never includes a

Colonial statesman, or an ex-Colonial Governor, or an ex-Ambassador,

much less an Anglo-Indian administrator. It is almost exclusively

composed of men with purely English Parliamentary experience, and a

Minister is put in control of India who has not even seen it from the

window of a railway-carriage, or probably spoken to a single Indian or

Anglo-Indian in his life. Even when there does happen to be available a

politician who has visited India and specially studied it, who, being a

peer, has naturally some sympathy with the aristocratic inclination of

Indian methods of rule, and who, being a Liberal, might be expected to

infuse into any too aristocratic methods a sufficiency of the English

democratic spirit, he is put (like Lord Crewe) to control Colonial

affairs, while another politician who is noted for his specially

democratic inclinations, and whose knowledge of India is purely

literary, is put to control India. Such methods may in practice produce

very fair results, just as the House of Lords does, on the whole, work

remarkably well. But better methods would produce better results. By the

present system the confidence of administrators can never be secured,

and for that reason alone it stands in need of revision. The composition

and action of the House of Lords are now subject to criticism, because

peers, not being elected, are supposed to be out of touch with the

feeling of the people. But, after all, the peers do live in Great

Britain, they do know the country and the people and the conditions to a

very great extent; and if, knowing all this, they do not yet possess the

confidence of the people, how much less can it be expected that

Englishmen in India could have any real confidence in the present method

of governing India from England? If the composition and methods of the

House of Lords need revision, how much more do the composition and

methods of the Imperial Cabinet need reform?

Again, agents in India can hardly help feeling that under the existing

system less attention is paid to their matured views than to the

opinions of inexperienced British electors. Not only is it that the

latter are near, while the former are distant, but also that the latter

can turn the London controllers of Indian affairs out of office, while

the former have to run the risk of being turned out themselves. It

stands to reason that the Indian Secretary must be looking more to the

will and wishes of the electors who put him where he is, and who may

remove him, than to the advice of the agents in India whom he controls,

and that he will be more influenced by the English agitator than by the

Anglo-Indian subordinate. Indian administrators may say that a

particular course is necessitated by local conditions. The Secretary of

State will say that the man in the street in England will not understand

or give his approval, and the Indian administrator will go by the board

without appeal. An English Member of Parliament, holding strong views on

an Indian question contrary to those held by the Secretary of State,

may, by expressing them with sufficient force, help to remove a

Secretary of State for India from office, or at least make him abandon

or modify his policy. An Anglo-Indian administrator, if he holds views

in opposition to those of the Secretary of State, will not damage the

latter, but he may ruin his own career, as Sir Bampfylde Fuller ruined

his, though events have shown his views to have been right. Under such

conditions, Englishmen in India cannot be expected to have confidence in

the present plan of ruling India directly from England.

One very natural result of this system is a resort to

half-measures—deporting seditious agitators, and letting them out again

a few months afterwards; allowing an agent in Tibet, but not at the

capital, only halfway to it, where he runs every bit as much risk and

has one-tenth part of the practical effect.

Secretaries of State lecture the Indian Government about the “wider

view,” the “larger Imperial interests,” and so on; but administrators in

India have a suspicion that, however broad the views of a Secretary of

State may be, they are probably not much longer than the distance which

separates him from the next General Election. In any case, whether or no

he is looking—as indeed he ought, under the theory of our Constitution,

to be looking—to the next General Election, he cannot be expected to

have the same _length_ of view as the Indian Government; for he is,

after all, a bird of passage, in the India Office for a few years and

then not heard of there again. And as to the larger Imperial interests,

most British administrators are aware of them, for they have been about

the world more than British politicians. They are well enough aware that

Indian considerations must be weighed in the balance with other Imperial

considerations, and that in the last resort it is the British statesman

who must decide. But what they doubt is whether the full weight of the

Indian considerations is ever put into the Imperial scale. Since 1873

every sort of consideration has been given more weight than the Indian

in these Tibetan affairs, and the consequence is that they still drag on

in as unsatisfactory a state now as they were thirty-seven years ago.

* * * * *

These are some defects of the present system, but there is little use in

criticizing if no remedy is suggested for the supposed evil. The main

remedy I would, with all deference, suggest is that the Parliamentary

control, which must always exist, should be exercised, less by means of

meddlesome and mischievous questions, and more by means of full debates,

in which, on Indian affairs, both Houses always show great sense and

dignity and restraint. Such debates, critical though they may be of the

work of British administrators, assist, encourage, and educate rather

than hamper them, and do not tend to impair that responsibility which

should be theirs if India is to be well governed. They put faddists in

their proper place, and let rounded common sense and wide experience in

large affairs have their due influence. The British public probably do

not expect any more than this of their Parliamentary representatives. In

all likelihood they would be quite willing to allow a greater freedom to

their representatives in India, and have no desire for their

Parliamentary representatives, by incessant bombardment on trifling

points, to be putting such pressure on the Secretary of State as to

encourage any natural inclination he may already have to increased

interference in the details of Indian administration.

If this be really the wish of the British people, then a much ampler

latitude might be allowed to the Viceroy, Lieutenant-Governors, and high

Frontier Officers, and a greater deference be shown to their views. If

agents abuse this latitude, then they can be censured, as I was

censured, or punished in any way that is necessary. And if the present

men are not good enough to be entrusted with responsibility, then means

might be taken for sending out better. Competitive examinations are not

the only or the best means of obtaining rulers for India. And there is

no reason why India should not be provided with just as good men as go

to Whitehall or Westminster. But never can it be seriously believed that

it is the wish of the British people that the principle of trusting the

man on the spot be abandoned, or the sense of responsibility in their

agents damped down.

For the good working of this principle, which I would here again remark

is much more fully carried out by the British Government, with all its

imperfection of constitution, than by any other Government in the world,

there must, however, be much more intimate relationship than there is at

present between these men and their principals in England. The men in

India and the politicians in England must be better known to each other,

and have more confidence in one another. And it is upon this point that

I would make a few suggestions of a practical nature.

Politicians who aspire to control the affairs of our most complex Empire

might, like our Royal Family, make an effort at some periods of their

lives to become personally acquainted with the local conditions of the

more important parts of the Empire. Communication is rapid and easy

nowadays, and a week in a railway-train through India would be better

than not seeing India at all. If you have seen a man for a couple of

minutes you understand him, and, above all, take an interest in his

actions, more than if you had never even seen him. And if it is

impossible for all Secretaries of State to have visited India before

they come to the India Office, there does not seem any inseparable

impediment to a Secretary of State visiting India during his term of

office. There are many and great objections, I know, but these surely

cannot be more numerous or more serious than are the objections to the

present system. Mr. Chamberlain’s visit to South Africa benefited him

and the Dominion, and the precedent would be well worth consideration.

But if this is quite out of the question, the corresponding idea of the

Viceroy visiting England at least once in his five years’ term of

service should not be so utterly impracticable. A swift cruiser would

take him home or out again in twelve days very easily, and the rest and

the advantages of personal conference would be of inestimable value. The

Agent-General in Cairo comes home every year.

More practicable and feasible, and probably more useful, than either of

these suggestions is that the India Office, instead of being manned half

by officials who have never been to India and half by officials who will

never go there again, might be completely manned by officials who have

both been to India and who will return there—men of the Indian Service

in active employ. At present it consists of officials of the Home Civil

Service and of retired Indian officials. What is wanted is an ebb and

flow—a strong, fresh current running to and fro from England to India.

It is bad to keep men out in India too long at a time, and it is bad to

have a Secretary of State who knows nothing about India surrounded by

men who have either never seen it or who have left it for good. A

Secretary of State would, moreover, if the India Office were filled with

men of the active Indian Service, have a better acquaintance than he now

has with the personnel of the Indian Services; while, on their side, the

latter would experience an infiltration of men who were acquainted with

English conditions, and of the especial difficulties and influences

which beset Secretaries of State in London.

Another direction in which improvement is possible is in politicians in

England making more effort to see men serving in India who are home on

leave. Lord Morley has done far more in this direction than any other

Secretary of State, and his courtesy in this respect has been much

appreciated. His is a good precedent for other Secretaries of State to

follow and develop; and if English politicians could regard men of the

Civil Service in India as something more than clerks it would be well. A

Lieutenant-Governor who had successfully ruled a great province in India

told me he was convinced they looked upon him as a clerk, because they

were always so “damned polite” to him.

Especially at the present time, too, men who are actually holding high

positions in India should be taken notice of and brought forward when

they come to England. The old East India Company used to take great

pains in this respect, realizing the importance of their agents being

known among the best men in England, and having the opportunity of

gaining their confidence, and realizing, too, that for the efficient

discharge of their duties in India they should be armed with the

prestige which high public recognition in England gives. This will be a

specially important point in the time to come. From one cause and

another, the Service in India has been losing its prestige, and this

when, as at no previous time, it requires all the prestige that is its

rightful due. The abandonment of Lord Curzon in his controversy with

Lord Kitchener, and of Sir Bampfylde Fuller in his efforts to suppress

sedition in Eastern Bengal at its rise, have been severe blows to the

Viceroyalty and Lieutenant-Governorships, which have to be amended.

Lastly, there is scope for much fuller personal intercourse between

local officers and superiors in India itself and between India and

England. Facility of communication is not taken sufficient advantage of

in this way. To refer again to this case of Tibet. During all that time

occupied in the correspondence leading up to the Mission an Indian

official, thoroughly well posted in the local conditions and with the

views of the Government of India upon them, might have been sent to

Peking, St. Petersburg, and London, to put the Indian and local view

before our Ambassadors and the Home Government, to be informed in return

of the Chinese and Russian and Imperial views, and to be the bearer of

the final decision thereon of the Imperial Government, which he could

explain with much greater effectiveness than is achieved by letters and

telegrams. An advantage, additional to the better settlement of the

actual question in hand, would be that the Indian official so employed

would be gaining some all-round experience, which would be of value on

future occasions.

By all these means that personal, intimate contact will be increased

which alone can beget mutual confidence. At present men in India feel

that they are regarded with suspicion by English politicians, as if they

were guilty till they could prove themselves innocent. No strong

inspiration comes from England to them. They have to carry on the

greatest Imperial work that any country has ever undertaken, chilled by

distant critics who know them not. These are conditions which obviously

call for improvement, and perhaps these suggestions would go some way to

this end, and render it more possible for English politicians to place

that trust in the men on the spot, which is the bed-rock principle on

which England should carry on the government of her great Dependency.

* * * * *

All this, however, is a matter of machinery. I have touched on it first

because it is, in my opinion, through the machinery being of a defective

type that the object of our policy in Tibet has not been attained. It is

now time to examine the results of our efforts there since 1773.

The net result is that at last we find the Tibetans anxious to be on

neighbourly terms, and, indeed, to form an alliance with us, but that

the action of the Russians on the one hand and of the Chinese on the

other, together with lukewarmness in England, stands in the way of our

being as intimate with the Tibetans as they now wish us to be. It has

proved in the result that the Tibetans are not really the seclusive

people we had believed. By nature they are sociable and hospitable and

given to trade. They are jealous about their religion, but as long as

that is not touched they are ready enough for political relationship,

for social intercourse, and for commercial transactions. The present

obstacle to neighbourly intercourse is the suspicion of the Chinese.

There is some reason to think that from the first they have instilled

into the Tibetans the idea of keeping themselves secluded. Anyhow, now

they are quite evidently keeping us apart. And any means we had of

preventing the Chinese insinuating themselves between us and the

Tibetans have been taken from us through the jealousy of the Russians.

Owing to this, we are not now in Chumbi and we have not an agent at

Lhasa. The Chinese fear we may absorb Tibet and press them in Szechuan,

and the Russians fear a predominant influence with the Dalai Lama might

be used by us detrimentally to their Buddhist subjects present and to

be. Both, therefore, stand in the way of that close relationship with

the Tibetans which is now desired even more by them than by us.

This in brief is the situation at which we have arrived, and in drawing

conclusions as to any future action we must first make our minds clear

as to what we want in Tibet.

Many say that we do not want anything at all. They argue that the

Tibetans live at the back of a stupendous range of snowy mountains, and

we had much better leave them alone. Some go so far as to say that it

was actually wicked of us forcibly to enter Tibet in 1904. The Mission

was styled in the House of Commons “an ignoble little raid,” and even

the then leader of the Opposition, after its successful conclusion, said

that it had “lowered our prestige.” Before, then, I proceed to examine

what we actually do want I will deal with this question as to whether we

really want anything at all, and whether there was anything inherently

wicked in the Lhasa Mission of 1904.

This idea of the immorality of in any way coercing a people like the

Tibetans is, I believe, largely based on the assumption lying

unconsciously at the back of people’s minds that Tibet is as distant and

as much separated from India as it is from England, that it is some

remote and inaccessible country into which no one but meddlesome

adventurers should want to enter. And they think that for us to go out

of our way deliberately to interfere with a people who only wanted to be

left alone was sheer wanton wickedness, and nothing else—except,

perhaps, inane folly and wastefulness of human life and good money. This

view proceeds, I am convinced, from the quite intelligible lack of

appreciation by those in England of the actual conditions prevailing on

the spot. For the men who act on the confines of the Empire in this

supposedly evil way are, after all, kith and kin with themselves. They

were born and bred in England, and are probably not more naturally

wicked than an ordinary Member of Parliament.

Now, I have shown that, however remote Tibet is from England, it is not

remote from India, but, on the contrary, adjoins and marches with India

for 1,000 miles. And if Russia, whose border nowhere comes within

hundreds of miles, can yet take such a practical interest in the country

as to protest time after time at each little move we make in relation to

the Tibetans, surely there is some probability that we also have a

necessity for interesting ourselves in it? If the Russians as well as

ourselves take practical interest in Tibet, and feel it necessary to

have some fairly sharp diplomatic correspondence about it, the

probability is that any action we take is not merely inspired by

inquisitiveness, idle curiosity, or love of adventure, but that

animating this interest must be some real practical necessity.

What that necessity is must, I think, be evident to those who have read

the previous pages. Though it is the fact that Tibet is divided from

India by the lofty Himalayas, it is also the fact that there is

connection and intercourse between the inhabitants of the two countries.

Tibet is not isolated like an oceanic island. The inhabitants of India

and the inhabitants of Tibet have always had relation and intercourse

with one another. And it is the necessity for regularizing and

harmonizing the intercourse, and for putting it on a business-like

footing, that has been the cause of our interest in the country.

Let me bring the point a little nearer home. Supposing there were in the

far Highlands of Scotland a people who had drawn their religion from

England, who always looked with veneration upon and made pilgrimages to

the sacred cities of Canterbury and York; who were accustomed to come

and trade in Perthshire, and occasionally in Glasgow and Dundee; who

pastured their flocks and herds along the Grampians; and who

intermarried with the people in the Lowlands; and, supposing that this

people said they wanted to keep to themselves in their own country in

the far Highlands, and not admit anyone from outside, we would say that

we could sympathize and understand such a wish, though it certainly

seemed somewhat one-sided, considering they had all the advantage of

coming into the Lowlands of Scotland and into England whenever they

liked. For the benefit of these Lowlanders and Englishmen we might send

some emissaries to the Highlanders, as Hastings sent Bogle and Turner to

the Tibetans to try by amicable methods to get them to admit our

traders, to the reciprocal advantage of both. But if they resented them

strongly, we should probably say to ourselves that as long as they did

not worry us we would not worry them, and would leave them in their

isolation in the Highlands.

But if they _did_ worry us, would not the whole situation be changed? If

10,000 of them came down one day and built a fort in the Perth Hills and

refused to move, would not that change our ideas as to leaving them

alone? And if, in addition, after they had refused to receive a letter

from us, they sent an emissary with letters to the German Emperor and

his Chancellor, would not that yet further change our ideas as to

respecting their seclusion? The Chancellor might explain that the letter

to him was merely to inquire after his health, and that the business

with the German Emperor was of a “purely religious nature”; but we

should, all the same, think it was about time to be bestirring ourselves

to come to some practical understanding with these inhabitants of the

Highlands. We should say to them: “We do not in the least mind your

keeping yourselves absolutely to yourselves, though we think it

inhospitable and unneighbourly; but now you have begun to worry us and

to have communications with our rivals, we must come to a clear

understanding with you.”

But supposing we found it impossible to discover anyone to make an

understanding with, and that the emissary we had sent to them, at the

first place inside their border, accompanied with a just sufficiently

large escort to protect him in venturing into these wild regions, could

find no one to communicate with, and had his letters returned, would the

proper thing then have been to bring him back home, and say that as we

could do nothing further except by using force—and the use of force was

wicked—we must give up the whole business, not mind how many letters

were written to the German Emperor, and whether the Highlanders did

exclude our traders, and occupy our pasture-lands, and throw down our

boundary pillars? We might say that the game was not worth the candle,

that the coming to an understanding was not worth all the expense and

trouble of sending our emissary by force into the very heart of the

Highlands. But can it really be contended that there would be anything

unjustifiable, wicked, or immoral in increasing our emissary’s escort

and sending him still farther into the Highlands, with orders that, by

the use of force, if necessary, he must proceed till he could find

someone of authority sufficient for us to make a lasting understanding

with him, so that this intercourse with our neighbours might for the

future be properly regulated, and any risk of their entering into

undesirable connection with possible rivals be removed?

There surely would be nothing _wicked_ in that. Yet that is precisely

similar to what we in India did in Tibet, and for which we were accused

of lowering British prestige.

Allowing, however, that the proceedings were strictly in order as far as

their morality went, it might still be contended that by using force we

should defeat our ends—we should make enemies when we wanted to make

friends. This argument was, indeed, used in Parliament. “You cannot make

friends by force,” it was said. And nothing would seem more obvious to

the ordinary Briton, who had never left his island. But, contrary to

expectations, we not only can make friends by force, but we actually

did. The Tibetans were more friendly with us after we had fought our way

to Lhasa than they were before, and, still more extraordinary, while

they invaded our territory when we countermanded the Macaulay Mission,

they came and sought our alliance after we had sent a Mission to Lhasa

by force. When we had really got to close quarters with the Tibetans at

Lhasa itself, when they had seen that their preconceived ideas about us

were false; that, with all our power, we had moderation; that, fighters

though we were, we yet treated their leading men with politeness and

respect—with far greater respect, indeed, than they received from their

fellow-Asiatic suzerain; that we interfered in no way with their

religion; that their traders could do an excellent business with us, and

their peasantry got fine prices for their produce and plenty of

employment as well, they entirely reversed their attitude towards us,

and, if I had held up my little finger, would have gladly come under our

protection.

This being the case, I hope the idea that it was either wicked or

needless to send a Mission to Lhasa will be no longer entertained, and

that it will be recognized that in practice it is impossible to leave

the Tibetans alone, however much we might like to. If, then,

relationship of some kind has to subsist between India and Tibet, what

we clearly want is that that relationship should be as harmonious as

possible. We want to buy the Tibetans’ wool, and to sell them our tea

and cotton goods. And, apart from questions of trade, we want to feel

sure that there is no inimical influence growing up in Tibet which might

cause disturbance on our frontier. That is the sum total of our wants.

The trade is not of much value in itself, but, such as it is, is worth

having. We have no interest in annexing Tibet, and we have definitely

declared against either annexation or protectorate; but we most

certainly do want quiet there and the removal of any influence which

would cause disquiet. Disorder begets disorder. When Lhasa is unsteady

Nepal and Bhutan are restless. What we want, then, is orderliness in

Tibet and some means of preventing disorder from ever arising.

Before the Lhasa Mission, Russian influence—not necessarily exerted with

deliberate intention by the Russian Government, but existent

nevertheless—was the disturbing factor; now it is Chinese influence,

exerted beyond its legitimate limits and with imprudent harshness.

Either of these causes results in a feeling of uneasiness, restlessness,

and nervousness along our north-eastern frontier, and necessitates our

assembling troops and making diplomatic protests, and might require us

to permanently increase our garrison on this frontier. That is the

practical point we have to meet.

Inimical Russian influence we have no longer any cause to fear. Not only

has Russia assured us that she has no intention or desire to interfere

politically in Tibet, but the whole set of her policy is now towards

Eastern Europe rather than towards India. So altered, indeed, is the

situation that in future years I should say that there would be an

increasing likelihood of her acting with us rather than thwarting us in

Tibet, and I believe the day will come when British and Russian Consuls

will be sitting together in Lhasa, as in Kashgar, Mukden, and dozens of

other places in the Chinese Empire.

India and Tibet A history of the relations which have subsisted between the two countries from the time of Warren Hastings to 1910; with a particular account of the mission to Lhasa of 1904 · 第 31 / 32 章

Chao Erh-feng was directed to investigate the local conditions in