The Tibetan Soldiery.
The standing army of Tibet is said to consist of five thousand men, but
from my own observation I think this number somewhat exaggerated. In
any case, it is hardly sufficient to protect a country containing six
millions of inhabitants against foreign invasion and civil commotion.
However, in Tibet social order is not kept by soldiers, nor by the
despotic power of the ruler. Religion is the force that keeps the
country in good order. The mass of the people would never take arms
against the Pope whom they believe to be a living Buḍḍha. This idea
is so thoroughly infused into them that there have been really very
few cases of rebellion in Tibet, hence there is no necessity for a
great number of soldiers. The history of the country testifies that
civil commotions take place only when the chief Lama has died, and the
new master is too young to take up the Government for himself, and so
leaves the entire business to the Agent and Ministers, who abuse their
power, or when the regent tyrannises over and offends the people. But
when the master is old enough to manage the affairs of the country he
is revered as a living Buḍḍha, against whom no one protests. Minor
difficulties may arise, but they are easily settled without recourse
to arms. The real causes that have made Tibet feel the necessity of
having a standing army have been her two quarrels with Nepāl and one
with British India. Since then Tibet has ever had a regular army,
distributed as follows: at Lhasa one thousand men, at Shigatze two
thousand, at Tingri, an important fort on the Nepāl frontier, nominally
five hundred but possibly only three hundred (there are several hundred
Chinese soldiers here), five hundred at Gyantze, five hundred at Dam,
and another five hundred at Mankham, making five thousand in all.
The Chinese soldiers stationed in the country number two thousand
altogether, and are distributed equally at the four places--Lhasa,
Tingri, Shigatze, and Tomo. Every five hundred Tibetan soldiers are
under a chief called De Bon. The lower officers are one for every two
hundred and fifty, one for every twenty-five and one for every five.
The Tibetan soldiers receive only one bushel of barley a month as
salary. They have no regular barracks to live in together, but live
in ordinary residences which, however, are built at the cost of the
citizens. They are scattered throughout the city, and keep stores or
carry on any kind of trade, as do the common people. They are obliged
to do some kind of work, for they cannot keep their wives and children
on the one bushel of barley a month. But they are free from house-rent,
and I have often heard the citizens complain of the burden of building
houses for the soldiers. The Chinese soldiers also live in ordinary
houses like the Tibetans, and are exempt from rent.
In return for his paltry remuneration, the Tibetan soldier has to be
drilled four or five times a month, and to be present at the great
manœuvres once a year. The manœuvres are held in the vicinity of
a little village called Dabchi, which lies about two miles north
of Lhasa on the road leading to the Sera monastery. In the village
there is a shrine of Kwanti (a Chinese war-God) whom the Tibetans
call Gesergi Gyalpo (saffron king), and who is much revered as a God
for driving away evil spirits, though the Chinese settlers form the
greater proportion of his actual worshippers. Close by there is another
temple called by the name of the village, in which live priests who
take the services at the Kwanti shrine. Many objects of interest are
kept in the shrine, but the most curious things are the images of
blue demons, red demons, and other inhabitants of hell, all arranged
as if they were retainers of Kwanti. North of this shrine there is a
high mound about one furlong square, with an arsenal standing in the
centre. Thence spreads a vast plain five miles to the north, half a
mile to the west and five miles to the east. This is the scene of the
great parade. Soldiers are summoned from all parts of the country to
attend the parade, which is usually held towards the end of September
or the beginning of October, when the barley harvest is over, and the
crops safely out of harm’s way. The first two days are reserved for
the Chinese soldiers and the following two for the Tibetan. The review
is honored by the presence of the Amban and of the higher Tibetan
officers, who give prizes in money ranging from fifty cents to five
dollars, or silver medals, to any soldiers who have displayed notable
ability. In Tibet archery is still considered an essential art of
warriors, yet artillery has recently been introduced, and is taught by
Chinese officers or by Tibetans who have been educated in India. The
Tibetan artillery does not amount to much.
My own observations lead me to suspect the valor of the Chinese and
Tibetan soldiers, and I doubt whether they can claim to have any
more strength than the ordinary citizens. Among the Chinese soldiers
pale countenances are very common, and though the Tibetan soldiers
look stouter, in courage I can see no difference. The cause of their
insignificance is to be traced to the difficulty they have in living
upon their small pay. The warrior-priests are far more soldier-like
than the regular soldiers; they have no wives nor children to take
care of, and have therefore nothing to fear. They are indeed far more
estimable than the professional soldiers, whose first business in
time of war is to plunder the natives instead of serving the country.
This is all because the soldiers have families, a fact which in my
opinion is the greatest hindrance to warlike purposes. The Tibetans are
emotional by nature, and out of such people, especially when they also
have to support families, it is no easy task to make a brave army.
One exception must be made--the people of Kham. Outwardly wild, they
are natural soldiers. In this district all the inhabitants, not
excluding the women, may be called fighters. Their usual vocations are
trading, farming, and cattle-raising, but their favorite profession
is robbery. This is the business most admired by all; they deem it a
great honor to defeat other tribes and kill as many foes as they can.
In Kham they have robber-songs as we have war-songs: songs in which the
people take much delight, even the children singing the lively airs
to which they are fitted; and as there are no war-songs in Tibet the
robber-songs of Kham are substituted for them. Here is one:
1.
Upon those boundless plateaux, green with grass;
Along those sloping tortuous pathless paths;
Amidst those pointed hornlike rocky steeps
My charger iron-hoofed I bestride
With daring valor to attack my foes.
2.
When hail-storms rage their fiercest round my head,
With all their stones like bullets pelting me,
And when tempestuous snow-drifts roll in rage,
Like mighty greedy waves engulfing me,
I fear not--nay these perils great I like
To brave; for, clad in iron boots my feet,
I headlong rush, stout-hearted as I am,
Unwed, assured of final victory.
3.
My wife, my children and my parents dear
Are not my refuge here; I trust not them;
My refuge only is my spirit brave
Adventurous, that can resist and stand
Against misfortunes and e’en dangers dire.
These songs all begin with _A, la, la, la; la, la, la, mo_ and end with
_la, la, mo, la; la, la, la, mo_. Once when I met a Tibetan soldier of
my acquaintance, I asked why they used robber-songs instead of having
war-songs of their own. He was a talkative kind of man and proceeded to
explain in an oratorical tone.
“As you well know, the meaning of the songs is very good and noble; it
is the courage praised in songs like these that strengthens a country.
But even good songs, when used for robbery, are indeed wicked weapons,
and the singers thereof great sinners. They are the same songs, but how
great is the difference in their results! In one case they promote, and
in the other they destroy, humanity and righteousness.”