The Government.
I shall next describe the system of the Hierarchical Government, and
other matters relative to it based on the information I incidentally
obtained on those subjects during my stay in Lhasa. The information
is far from being complete, for besides the fact that the subjects
were entirely foreign to the primary objects of my Tibetan expedition,
and therefore I was not impelled to make any systematic inquiries, I
could not without inviting strong suspicion put any questions to my
friends in Lhasa about matters of Tibetan politics. Whatever knowledge
I could gather on the subject was derived incidentally in the course
of conversations with my distinguished host and some others, and as
the result of enquiries made in a highly guarded and roundabout way.
Hence there still remain many points in the Government system of which
I myself am ignorant.
With this reserve, I may state first of all that the Hierarchy is
composed of both clerical and lay departments, each consisting of an
equal number of men. The priests of higher rank who attend to the
affairs of State bear the title of “Tse Dung” and they number one
hundred and sixty-five, and there are lay officials of corresponding
rank and number known under the title of “Dung Khor”. The priestly
functionaries of higher rank are subject to the control of four Grand
Secretaries, bearing the title of “Tung yk chen mo” but the real power
is vested in the senior priest. Similarly four “Shabpe” (Premiers) are
appointed over the head of the higher lay officials. Of these four
“Shabpe” the one enjoying precedence in appointment holds the real
power, the other three being his councillors and advisers.
The Cabinet is composed of four Prime-Ministers, three Ministers of
Finance, two Ministers of War, a Minister of the Household, a Minister
of Religion, a Minister of Justice, and four Grand Secretaries
belonging to the Order.
All these higher posts, both of priests and laymen, are in most cases
filled only by men belonging to the privileged classes; very rarely do
they fall to the Ngak-pa, Bon-bo and Shal-ngo castes.
The Tibetan administration is of an anomalous description--a hybrid
partaking of feudalism on the one hand and of the modern system of
Local Government on the other.
The relation between Peers and commoners apparently resembles
feudalism. The first recipient of the title was granted a certain
tract of land in recognition of his service, and there at once sprung
up between this lord of the manor, as it were, and the inhabitants of
that particular place a relationship akin to that between sovereign and
subject. This lord is an absolute master of his people, both in regard
to their rights and even their lives.
The lord levies a poll-tax on the inhabitants, and even the poorest
are not exempted from this obligation. The levy varies considerably
according to the means of the payer, from say one tanka paid by a
poor inhabitant to even a hundred paid by a wealthier member of the
community. Besides, every freeholder must pay land tax, the land held
by him being understood theoretically to belong to the lord. However
heavy the burden of the poll-tax may be, each person is obliged to
pay it, for if he neglects to do so he is liable to be punished with
flogging and the confiscation of his property to boot. The only means
of escape from this obligation consists in becoming a monk, and there
must be in the Tibetan priesthood a large number of men who have turned
priests solely with this object of avoiding the payment of taxes.
The witty remark once made to me by my teacher, Ti Rinpoche, on this
subject may illustrate the state of affairs in the Tibetan priesthood.
He said: “I do not know whether to rejoice at or to regret the presence
of so many priests in Tibet. Some seem to take this as a sign of the
flourishing condition of the national religion and on that ground seem
to be satisfied with it. I cannot quite agree with this argument; on
the contrary I rather hold that it is better to have even two or three
precious diamonds than a heap of stones and broken tiles.” The motives
that lead people to become priests lying in that region, it is not
strange that the Tibetan priesthood should contain plenty of rubbish
with very few diamonds among them.
However, when it is remembered how heavy are the burdens imposed on
the shoulders of the people, it is not strange that they should try to
evade them by entering the Order. The condition of even the poorest
priest presents a great contrast to that of other poor people, for the
priest is at least sure to obtain every month a regular allowance,
small as it is, from the Hierarchical Government, while he can expect
more or less of extra allowances in the shape of occasional presents
from charitable people. But a poor layman cannot expect any help from
those quarters, and he has to support his family with his own labor and
to pay the poll-tax besides. Very often therefore he is hardly able
to drive the wolf of hunger from his door, and in such case his only
hope of succor lies in a loan from his landlord, or the lord of the
manor wherein he resides. But hope of repayment there is none, and so
the poor farmer gets that loan under a strange contract, that is to
say, by binding himself to offer his son or daughter as a servant to
the creditor when he or she attains a certain age. And so his child
when he has reached the age of (say) ten years is surrendered to the
creditor, who is entitled to employ him as a servant for fifteen or
twenty years, and for a loan which does not generally exceed ten yen.
The lives of the children of poor people may therefore be considered as
being foreclosed by their parents. Those pitiable children grow up to
be practically slaves of the Peers.
The relationship existing between the Peers and the people residing
on their estates, therefore, partakes of the nature of feudalism in
some essential respects, but it cannot be said that feudalism reigns
alone in Tibet to the exclusion of other systems of Government. On the
contrary a centralised form of Government prevails more or less at the
same time. The Peers, it must be remembered, do not generally reside
on their own estates; they reside in Lhasa and leave their estates in
charge of their stewards. And they are not unfrequently appointed by
the Central Government as Governors of certain districts.
Consequently the Tibetans may be said to be divided into two classes
of people, one being subject to the control of the lords of the manors
and other to that of the Central Government. Not unfrequently the two
overlap, and the same people are obliged to pay poll-tax to their lords
and other taxes to the Central Government.
The work of revenue collection is entrusted to two or three
Commissioners appointed from among the clerical or lay officials of
higher rank, and these, invested with judicial and executive powers,
are despatched every year to the provinces to collect revenue,
consisting of taxes, imposts and import duties, these being paid either
in money or kind.
The demands on revenue are many and various, and among the items
of ordinary expenditure may be mentioned first of all the sums
required for supporting, either wholly or partially, a large number
of priests residing both in Lhasa and in the provinces, the former
alone numbering about twenty-five thousand. The outlay on account of
building temples and religious ceremonies is not small, but that on
account of salaries paid to the officials of the Central Government
appears to be less. A Premier draws the yearly salary of about six
hundred _koku_ or four thousand bushels of wheat, the stipend being
generally paid in this grain. The first Lord of the Treasury draws
three hundred and sixty koku. What is very interesting about these
salaries is that the State functionaries very often relinquish the
right of receiving their salaries, and leave them unclaimed. My
host, who continued to hold for ten years the post of the Minister
of Finance, had persistently refrained during that long period from
claiming what was his due. When I marvelled at this strange act
of disinterestedness on his part, he replied that his own estate
supplied what he wanted and so he did not wish to give trouble to the
Grand Lama’s Exchequer. And he further informed me that most of his
colleagues who were men of means generally omitted to claim their
salaries wholly or in part, though there were some who punctually
received the money to which they were entitled by right. Not that even
those who showed themselves so disinterested in the matter of official
stipends are above corruption, for I heard that some of the Ministers
who declined their salaries did not scruple to receive or even to exact
bribes. In justice to them I may add that bribery is a universal vice
in Tibet, and is not regarded in so serious a light there as in more
enlightened countries. My host was a gentleman of strict integrity and
morals, but he used to accept presents offered out of respect to him.
The clerical and lay high functionaries, each numbering one hundred and
sixty-five, attend to the various affairs of State. They are sometimes
appointed as Governors of provinces, while at other times they are sent
on judicial business. In such cases appointments are never given to
clerical or lay officials only, but both are invariably appointed as
associates, and in equal number, one each or two, or sometimes four.
The Judicial Commissioners were formerly often guilty of injustice
and open to the charge of judging cases, not according to their real
deserts, but according to the amount of bribes offered. They are no
longer so now, thanks to the vigilance and energy of the present Dalai
Lama who, whenever such a case of wrong-doing comes to his ears, does
not hesitate to confiscate the property of the offending parties and
to deprive them of their rank. Sometimes when a case of grave moment
occurs it is submitted to the personal judgment of the Grand Lama
himself.
The Grand Lama is therefore placed in a highly anomalous position,
for while he is the dispenser of benevolence and the supreme head
of a religion preaching mercy and forbearance, he is obliged to
pass judgment and to sentence persons to exile or even to capital
punishment. As head of a religion he is positively forbidden by its
teachings to pass a decree of that nature, whether that decree is
justifiable in the worldly sense or not. But the Grand Lama does
issue decrees of this irreligious description. He is not, however, a
political chief, inasmuch as he faithfully adheres to the rules of
mortification enforced by his religion; he has no wife, for instance,
nor does he drink intoxicating liquor. His position is really highly
anomalous.
And yet all the priests in Tibet take from the Grand Lama the holy
vow of discipline; I myself was advised by my Tibetan friends to pass
that ceremony, but my religious scruples stood in the way, so I did
not follow the advice. However I was initiated by the Grand Lama in
the ‘Hidden Teaching,’ for this ceremony had nothing to do with my
religious convictions.
The Grand Lama himself being placed in this false position, all the
priests under him are naturally open to a similar charge. They are
partly priests and partly men of the world, and sometimes it is hardly
possible to distinguish them from ordinary laymen. For instance, the
Tibetan priests, as I have mentioned elsewhere, undertake farming or
business, while the young rowdies among them attend to the work of
ordinary soldiers. The only things that distinctly distinguish the
priests from laymen are that the former shave their hair and wear
priestly robes, and the latter do not; that is all. I am compelled
to say that Lamaism has fallen, and that it has assumed a form quite
contrary to that to which its great reformer Je Tsong-kha-pa elevated
it, and I am sincerely sorry for this degeneration. I shall next
describe the education and the caste system in Tibet.