Three Years in Tibet/Chapter 72
CHAPTER LXXII.
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 Himalayas. 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. An 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 Sarat Chandra Das 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 Buddhism 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 Nechuug 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 permament 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?