A Grudge Runs Through It (Part Two)
How the CIA, the Beastie Boys and One Road Helped Put the Last Autonomous Tibetan Culture at Risk of Extinction.
It’s called the The Belt and Road Initiative (BRI). Established in 2013 and labeled a ‘development strategy’ by the PRC. In true Chinese fashion, the scope of the project promises to be the largest infrastructure and investment project in history, covering more than 152 countries. For Lo Manthang this means highways and roads and power grids and construction. All built with Chinese money.
Prior to the initiative, the PRC had begun making inroads to the ancient city. The turn of the century saw the completion of a 20-kilometer road from the Chinese border at Korala Pass to the border at Lo Manthang. The BRI promises to join Lo Manthang with Jomsom, yet we need not rely on our imagination to envision how this will forever change life in Upper Mustang. The preliminary plan alone served as de facto permission for entrepreneurs with Land Rovers to ferry passengers along the preliminary scar of a road into Upper Mustang and Lo Manthang.
The ‘road’ now, cutting through the heart of the high alpine desert.
We can already see the impact of what a trickle of tourists - a tiny fraction of what’s to come - will have on the Loba. Livelihoods that formerly centered around animal husbandry, agriculture, and petty trade are being substituted for range of hospitality-driven options. Even in November, ersatz concrete stalls were being built - the out-of-place, pre-eminent box-style architecture used to house gift shops, stores and businesses that cater to tourists.
Seemingly purpose-built to guarantee a spot on World’s Most Dangerous Roads, this unimaginable highway cuts through the heart of Upper Mustang’s stubborn and stunning geology, as well as its fragile ecosystem. Currently it’s a kidney busting, harrowing journey not for the faint of heart. At times these transports skitter along a narrow ribbon of icy road, with just inches separating them from a thousand meter plummet to the gorge below. Travelling to Lo Manthang once implied a willingness to spend days on foot or horseback. The new road will get you there comfortably, in a few short hours.
For now, the old trade routes and outdated modes of transportation still linger - but for how long?
And as more hotels, shops, restaurants are slated for construction; it’s proving to be more than the local population can handle. Workers and entrepreneurs from the South, Nepalis from Kathmandu and elsewhere, have arrived in Upper Mustang seeking opportunities. Ethnically, culturally, and linguistically different from the Loba - their presence will serve to dilute its historically monolithic population.
Note the dichotomy that exists - while Nepal still manages access to the area, discouraging trekkers with prohibitive permit fees and quotas, it simultaneously encourages this type of development. Just a few years earlier, this type of growth would have seemed inconceivable, and it begs the question as to what is motivating the Nepalese government. One far more cynical than I might find reason in the $8.3 billion dollars committed in 2017 to numerous tourism-related schemes by Chinese investors.
In thrall with the possibility of some semblance of economic reform, Nepal, one of the poorest nations in the world. has already found itself forced to accept Chinese money at the expense of accommodating its political worldview, namely Beijing’s “one-China policy” which declares both Taiwan and Tibet as integral parts of China. More disturbing, they have committed to prohibit actions deemed ‘anti-China’ within Nepal. It remains to be seen if the unforgiving criteria for ‘anti-China’ activity will be shared by the Nepali government.
For years Beijing has pressed that supporters of the Tibetan cause - wherever they may originate - play a leading role in fomenting unrest among ethnic Tibetans in China. ‘Support’ takes on various definitions, depending on who is being asked. For the PRC, displaying a Tibetan flag is a revolutionary act, resulting in immediate arrest and severe punishment. Owning a picture of the Dalai Lama is an overwhelmingly ‘anti-China’ offense.
As it will prove fundamentally challenging for any Loba to deny affiliation with the Dalai Lama - the revered religious leader the resident population owes their allegiance to - it begs the question as to how much control the PRC will want the Nepali government to enforce in Lo Manthang. Considering the grudge that Beijing has harbored for more than half a century, and noting recent military crackdowns in other Tibetan communities in Nepal, the forecast does not look promising.
Indigenous Loba, bracing for an uncertain future.
The PRC made this point clear to Nepal after the 2009 riots in Kathmandu. Demonstrations and street protests erupted on March 10 to honor ‘Tibetan Uprising Day’ in Boudhanath, only to be met with violent resistance from Nepalese authorities. In the aftermath and under pressure from Beijing, Tibetans can no longer gather, peacefully or otherwise. Standing orders remain to arrest and take legal action against anyone who protests against China. Rather than blame the uprising on the historical treatment of Tibetans since the resistance, or ongoing policies established by the PRC that continue to marginalize Tibetans in their own country and abroad, the PRC instead blamed the separatist ideals of the Dalai Lama.
And the situation has only worsened in recent years. According to HRW, the signing of several security agreements has morphed into ‘intelligence sharing’ involving surveillance of suspected ‘activists’ - and using this excuse to closely monitor Tibetan neighborhoods. It is not uncommon to find heavily armed Nepali forces out on the streets of Kathmandu in Tibetan enclaves such as Boudhanath on days deemed significant to Tibetans.
So what does this all mean for Lo Manthang? One might be inclined to take refuge in the fact that there hasn’t been the quashing of anti-China activities in Upper Mustang or calls to keep Tibetan Day protests to a dull roar for the simple fact that currently, the Loba have nothing to protest. Despite their ethnicity, they are completely removed from the identity politics playing out in areas with large concentrations of Tibetan refugees. While they may certainly share sympathy for their Tibetan cousins, they are very distant cousins – the Loba are not from Tibet - or anywhere else, for that matter.
But when the Loba recognize that their actions are being monitored, the only logical assumption they can make is that they are suspect of being suspect, disrupting the tight-knit social fabric of trust that has bound them for generations. This Orwellian imposition will also undoubtedly influence their quotidian affairs. There may be dominant social pressures to conform – or resist. Never before has an alien and external force exhibited so much control over the Loba.
I sat down with Khenpo Kunga Tenzin, head of Lo Manthang's Monchoe Dragkar Thegchen Ling monastery at his winter monastery near Boudhanath in Kathmandu. I wanted to discuss the fears he had, if any, about the increased presence and authority of Chinese troops and officials now making near-daily appearances in Upper Mustang and Lo Manthang. Initially I had hoped to interview Khenpo Kunga Tenzin in Lo Manthang, but, in retrospect, it seemed more appropriate to have the conversation here, just a few hundred meters from the place where exiled Tibetans protested the 50th anniversary of the failed uprising against China, and where that protest was violently put down. To my surprise, Khenpo Kunga seemed more than a little nonchalant about the issue.
Khenpo Kunga Tenzin
There seemed to be a whole lot of cognitive dissonance going on that forced me to remind the Khenpo, carefully, to avoid appearing patronizing, about what actually happened in Tibet at the hands of the Chinese, about the treatment of Tibetans in Nepal, and the cooperation the Nepali authorities agreed to provide the PRC in the surveillance of Tibetans suspected of being ‘activists’. I was hoping his lack of any real concern belied an actual ‘master plan’ or secret strategy he had for the future. Instead I learned the only play he had was to rest in the confidence of international law and geopolitical boundaries, ‘Do you see any Tibetan flags in Lo Manthang?’ He offered this fact for two reasons – one to show that the Loba are not actively supportive of Tibet, the second to confirm their nationality. “No. They are Nepal flags only. Lo Manthang is Nepal, not China – we are not subject to their laws.”
Khenpo’s justification was more than a bit conflicted. On one hand he was arguing for the fact that Nepal is autonomous from China, they are free to act as they wish. On the other, he was suggesting that by not displaying a Tibetan flag, the Loba weren’t actually doing anything to incur the wrath of the Chinese. It was cold comfort when he confided in me that he had spoken to the Dalai Lama himself, who gave him advice on how to deal with the Chinese. He didn’t elaborate, but I recognized the Tibetan word for compassion as he spoke to his translator. I was left wondering, if he didn’t think the Chinese presence would be a problem – why would he discuss it with the Dalai Lama?
A few years after the Free Tibet concerts, I had the opportunity to spend a few days with Lama Palden, the Tibetan monk who endured 27 years of torture at the hands of the Chinese in Lhasa’s infamous Drapchi prison. Lama Palden is remembered for his appearances at the concerts where, in between acts, Palden would take to the stage with an electric cattle prod in hand, displaying his torturer’s favorite tool. Palden would then remove his dentures and open his mouth to illustrate what years of having a live cattle prod inserted into one’s mouth will do.
One afternoon I asked Lama Palden about karma, and whether or not this concept extended to countries as well as people. He seemed to think so, which demanded the follow up, ‘what did Tibet ever do to deserve the wrath of the Chinese government?’ Lama Palden considered the question for the briefest of moments before replying, ‘we kept all that knowledge, all that wisdom to ourselves. We didn’t share it.” Palden referenced the prophecy foretold, that when this time comes to pass, the flames of Buddhism would rise higher, suggesting that one could not exist without the other. It will be up to history to determine if the sacrifice was worth it.
The next chapter in this tortured history will inevitably be played out in the dusty corridors of Lo Manthang, along the banks of the once-pristine Kali Gandaki, and in the days and lives of every indigenous Loba. In thinking about the future of the Loba and Lo Manthang, I am again reminded of the sign that greeted me when I first set foot in Lo, and while it didn’t resonate with me then, it has now taken on an entirely new meaning, “Please bless this world, protect it from becoming a piteous ruined place…