Tibet and British India.
The Tibetans are on the whole a hospitable people, and the unfavorable
discrimination made against England is mainly attributable to mutual
misunderstanding. On the part of England that misunderstanding
led to the adoption of a rough and ready method instead of one of
ingratiation, and so England is singled out as an object of abhorrence
by Tibet. England had opportunities to score a greater success in
Tibet than that achieved by Russia, and had she followed the Russian
method her influence would now have extended far beyond the Himālayas.
Instead, she tried to coerce Tibet, and so she failed. It is like
crying over spilt milk to speak of this failure at present, but I
cannot help regretting it for the sake of England. She would have saved
much of the trouble and money she has subsequently been obliged to give
in consequence of her too hasty policy, occasioned by her ignorance
of the temper of the Tibetans and the general state of affairs in
their country. As it was, since England sent her abortive expedition
of force, the attitude of Tibet towards that Power has become one of
pronounced hostility. The revelation of the secret mission of Saraṭ
Chanḍra Ḍās and the serious agitation that occurred in Tibet, including
the execution of several noted men, such as the virtuous Sengchen
Dorjechan and others, has completely estranged the Tibetan Government
from England. That revelation has had a far-reaching effect that has
involved the interests of other countries, for it confirmed the Tibetan
Government in its prejudice in favor of a exclusory policy. Tibet has
been closed up entirely since that time, not only against British
India, but even against Russia and Persia. The Lama believers of India
even are prohibited from entering the country. Such being the case,
should England ever wish to transact any business with Tibet she would
be obliged to do so by force.
Not that England neglects to take measures calculated to win the
favorable opinion of the Tibetans. The Indian Viceroy is, for instance,
endeavoring to convey friendly impressions to such of the Tibetans as
may happen to come to frontier places, such as Darjeeling or Sikkim.
Thus the children of those Tibetans are at liberty to enter any
Government schools without paying fees, while boys of a hopeful nature
are patronised by the Government and are sent at Government expense to
higher institutions. At present there are quite a number of Tibetan
lads who, after graduation from their respective courses, are employed
by the Indian Government as surveyors, Post Office clerks or teachers.
Then the privilege of carrying on the business of palanquin-bearers,
quite a lucrative occupation, is practically reserved for the Tibetans,
at least at Darjeeling. Not even natives of India, still less people of
other countries, are easily allowed to start this business. The Indian
Police officers too are quite indulgent towards the Tibetans, and never
deal with them so strictly as with the Indian natives.
The Tibetans residing at Darjeeling are therefore quite satisfied with
their lot. Most of them feel sincerely grateful towards the British
Government and are ready to repay it with friendly service. The
longer they remain under the British protection, the stronger grows
this sentiment. They are impressed with the treatment of the British
Government, its straightforwardness, veracity and benevolence, in
contrast to the merciless dealings of the Government at home, which
inflicts shocking punishments for even minor offences. They are well
aware that the Lama’s Government cuts off a man’s arms or extracts his
eye-balls for larceny, or similar minor crimes, while in India capital
punishment is very seldom inflicted even on offenders of a grave
character; the humane treatment of criminals by the British Government
is a thing that can hardly be dreamed of by the people of Tibet. The
roads in India are an object of marvel to the Tibetans who arrive there
for the first time. The presence of free hospitals, of free asylums, of
educational institutions, the railways, telegraphs and telephones--all
these are objects of wonder and marvel to those Tibetans, and it is not
strange that most of them become the more disinclined to return home
the longer they live in India. In the presence of these evidences of
material greatness, the Tibetans naturally come to the conclusion that
a Government which can afford to establish and maintain such splendid
structures must be immensely rich, and they therefore begin to nurture
the hope of having such a wealthy and great Government over them, and
of sharing in its prosperity. This sentiment seems to be especially
strong among those of the higher classes, who have seen India, and it
is shared by their inferiors who know that greatness only from hearsay.
The policy of indirectly winning the goodwill of the Tibetans, so far
pursued by the Indian Government, has failed, however, to produce any
perceptible effect on the Government circles of Tibet. They are too far
engrossed with personal interests to be open to any great extent to
indirect suasion of a moral nature. They are far more inclined to gain
advantage for themselves directly from offers of bribes than to profit
by an exemplary model of administration. The main reason why they
are favorably disposed towards Russia is because they have received
gold from that country; it was never by the effect of any display
of good administrative method that Russia has succeeded so well. In
short, these greedy Tibetan officials offer their friendship to the
highest bidders, and they do not care at all whence the gold comes so
long as they grasp a large sum. The policy of the British Government
therefore rests on a pedestal set a little too high to be understood
and appreciated by the majority of the official circles of Tibet.
The attitude of the priesthood towards England is a puzzled one. They
are puzzled to determine whether they should denounce the English
as devils incarnate, or respect them as the incarnations of saints.
The benevolent arrangements made by them, such as establishing
philanthropic institutions, laying of railroads and such like, lead
the sceptical Lamas to think that Englishmen must understand the ways
of Buḍḍhism and be a godly race. But when they think that these same
Englishmen did not scruple to annex other people’s land to their own
dominions, their favorable impression about Englishmen receives a
sudden and complete check. These two conflicting notions seem to have
taken a deep hold on their minds, and they try to solve the puzzle
without compromising their two convictions. They explain that there
must be two distinct kinds of Englishmen in India, one benevolent and
godly and the other infernal and quite wicked. Otherwise, they think,
such a marvellous phenomenon as that witnessed in India could hardly
have been possible.
The same priests held a strange notion about the late Queen. They
believed her to be an incarnation of the patron Goddess of the
Cho-khang temple in Lhasa, and therefore endowed with a supernatural
power of subjugating and governing the whole world. Because of this
occult affinity the Queen entertained, they believed, a fraternal
feeling towards Tibet, but some of the courtiers about her were
wicked and obstructed her benevolent intentions, just as the great
Buḍḍha himself had among His disciples some wicked and incorrigible
characters. The Tibetans, they said, must get rid of those pernicious
persons for the Queen.
When the news of the death of the Queen reached Tibet, the people,
while mourning for her, at the same time rejoiced, for they thought
that their Panden Lhamo, the Goddess in question, was once more
restored to them.
I may add that I was frequently asked by the literates and other men of
learning of my own impression about British India, for they knew that
I had visited Buḍḍhagayā and other places in India. On such occasions
I merely confined myself as much as possible to general remarks, for I
feared that any accurate explanation might awake their suspicions about
my supposed personality.
The existence of the Siberian railway can hardly be expected to give
any great help to Russia, if ever the latter should be obliged from
one reason or another to send a warlike expedition to Lhasa. The
distance from the nearest station to Lhasa is prohibitive of any such
undertaking, for the march, even if nothing happens on the road,
must require five or six months and is through districts abounding
in deserts and hills. The presence of wild natives in Amdo and Kham
is also a discouraging factor, for they are people who are perfectly
uncontrollable, given up to plunder and murder, and of course
thoroughly at home in their own haunts. Even discipline and superior
weapons would not balance the natural advantages which these dreadful
people enjoy over intruders, however well informed the latter may be
about the topography of the districts. Russia can hardly expect to
subdue Tibet by force of arms. It was in consideration of this fact
that the Tsan-ni Kenbo has been endeavoring to impose upon the Tibetans
that audacious fiction about the identity of the Tsar’s person with
that of the long dead Founder of the New Sect, so that his master might
accomplish by peaceful means what he could hardly effect by force.
However, even the Tsan-ni’s painstaking efforts appear to have fallen
short of his expectations, and there is a danger of a reaction setting
in against him.
It must be remembered that the sentiment of the common people towards
China still retains its old force, even though they know that the power
of their old patron has considerably declined lately. They are well
aware that Tibet has been placed from time immemorial in a state of
vassalage to China, that Prince Srong-tsan Gambo who first introduced
Buḍḍhism into Tibet had as his wife a daughter of the then Emperor of
China, while the Tibetans believe that the present Emperor of China
is an incarnation of a Buḍḍhist deity (the Chang-chub Semba Tambe
yang in Tibetan) worshipped on Mount Utai, China. And so both from
tradition and prejudice and from present superstition, the mass of the
people, who are conservative, cannot but regard China with a lingering
sentiment of respect and attachment, and the position which China still
occupies in the niches of their hearts can hardly be supplanted by
Russia, even when the Tsan-ni Kenbo ingeniously represents her as the
country indicated in the Tibetan _Book of Prophecy_.
As I have mentioned before, some few of the influential Government
officials do not seem to approve of the Tsan-ni’s movement. They even
suspect that Russia might have some sinister object in view when she
presented gold and other valuable things to the Dalai Lama and others.
Tibet has no newspapers, but even without that organ of public opinion
the public become acquainted sooner or later with most important
occurrences, and so it stands to reason that the unfavorable view which
is secretly entertained by a limited number of thoughtful men must
have leaked out one way or other to at least a section of the public.
The result is that not a small number of priests have begun to side,
though not as an organised movement, with these prudent thinkers, and
therefore to rebel against Shata and his faction. The priests of the
colleges and the warrior-priests seem to be particularly conspicuous
in this reactionary movement. Indeed the fact is that Shata has never
been a _persona grata_ with those young men since the tragedy of Temo
Rinpoche, and so they were inclined to view anything done by the crafty
author of that tragedy with suspicious eyes. Then again the thoughtful
portion of the college-priests never tolerated the Nechung oracles.
They despised the oracle-priests as not much better than men of unsound
mind, as drunkards, and corrupters of national interests. The very fact
that Shata patronised this vile set further estranged him from the
college-priests.
Under the circumstances, something like a reaction seems already to
have set in against the pro-Russian agitation ingeniously planned by
the Tsan-ni Kenbo. It remains to be seen what steps Russia will take
towards Tibet to prevent the Lama’s country from slipping away from her
grasp.
In reviewing the relations that formerly existed between British
India and Tibet, it must be stated first of all that British India
was closely connected with Tibet many years ago. At least Tibet’s
attitude toward the Indian Government was not embittered by any hostile
sentiment. In the eighteenth century, during the Governor-Generalship
of Warren Hastings, he sent George Bogle to make commercial
arrangements between the two countries. This gentleman resided a few
years at Shigatze. Then Captain Turner also lived at the same place
as a commercial agent for some time. After that time India did not
send any more such commissioners, but till about twenty-four years
ago the Indian natives were permitted to enter Tibet unmolested. They
were generally pilgrims or priests bent on visiting the sacred places.
Quite a large number of such Indians must have entered Tibet. Prior
to the exploration of Saraṭ Chanḍra Ḍās it was not an uncommon sight,
I have been told, to see a party of naked priests, each carrying a
water-vessel made of gourd, and iron tongs, and with faces smeared with
ashes, proceeding towards Tibet. Though official relations had ceased
between Tibet and India, their people therefore were bound together by
some friendly connexions till quite recently. It is not unlikely that
if the Indian Government had made at that time some advances acceptable
to Tibet, it would have succeeded in establishing cordial relations
with the latter.
The exploration of Saraṭ Chanḍra Ḍās disguised as an ordinary Sikkimese
priest, and the frontier trouble that followed it, completely changed
the attitude of Tibet towards India and the outer world and made it
adopt a strict policy of exclusion. The publication of the results of
that exploration directed the attention of the Indian Government to the
question of delimiting the boundary between Sikkim, its protectorate,
and Tibet. It was at that time that the Tibetan Government adopted
most indiscreet measures at the instance of a fanatical Nechung, and
proceeded to build a fort at a frontier place which distinctly belonged
to Sikkim. The Tibetan Government is said to have at first hesitated
to follow that insidious advice, but the Nechung was clamorous and
declared that his presence in the fort would disarm any troops which
the Indian Government might send against it. Tibet therefore, continued
the fanatic, need not be afraid of the Indian Government and must
proceed to construct a fort with all promptitude. He argued that the
presence of a fort would go far towards promoting Tibet’s cause in
settling the boundary dispute and the fort would become the permanent
boundary mark.
Accordingly the fort was built at a place that was beyond the
legitimate boundary line of Tibet. Soon the Indian troops arrived
and, ‘infidels’ as they were, they made short work of it, in utter
defiance of the terrible anathema hurled by the indomitable Nechung
against them. The stronghold was carried by assault by the invaders.
The crumbled stone walls standing on a hill at a place about twenty
miles on this side of Nyatong, which marks the boundary between Sikkim
and Tibet, indicate the site of this short-lived stronghold built by
the Tibetan Government. Now in building a fort in a place which the
Tibetans themselves knew to belong to Sikkim, they may have reasoned
with self-complacency that as Sikkim formerly belonged to Tibet,
therefore they might not improperly revive their original claim on,
at least, a portion of that district now under the jurisdiction of
England. Of course England could never concur in such an arrangement,
and the trouble between her and Tibet at last culminated in war. This
was about sixteen years ago. The issue of that war was from the first
a foregone conclusion, and the troops sent by the Indian Government
easily put to rout the fighting men of Tibet. The latter held better
positions, but they lacked discipline, training and good weapons,
while they had the further disadvantage of being commanded by would-be
generals and captains who did not care to lead their men in person, but
contented themselves with issuing orders and leaving them to be carried
out anyhow. Needless to add that the orders could never be carried out,
but were invariably frustrated by the invaders. The Tibetan generals
and captains escaped unhurt, for the simple reason that they had
never exposed themselves to danger. After issuing orders, they always
remained in the camp and spent their time in gambling, leaving their
soldiers to be killed or wounded on the field. Thus the war ended
with some heavy casualty returns on the Tibetan side, and far shorter
returns on the part of the invaders.
As the result of this war the frontier line was drawn through Nyatong,
and though the Indian Government would have been justified in extending
it further down to Chumbi Samba, it did not push its claim so far.
Apparently the action of the Indian Viceroy of that time was crowned
with success, but when this complication is viewed with an eye to
a longer and more permanent end, I cannot approve of the measures
adopted by him. He should I think, have adopted a course of leniency
instead of one of stern punishment, and should have endeavored by
some clever manœuvres, not excluding a rather liberal disbursement
of secret service funds, to win the good-will of the ruling circles
of Tibet. I think the result would have been far more advantageous
for the future success of England than recovering at the point of the
bayonet a barren tract covering only thirty miles in area. Who knows
but that the influence of England might have been firmly established in
Tibet by this time if that patronising policy had been adopted then,
and that Englishmen might not be free to come and reside in and about
Lhasa to enjoy the pure atmosphere and cool and healthy climate of that
district?