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Brute
force can never subdue the basic human desire for freedom.
The thousands of people who marched in the cities of
Eastern Europe in recent decades, the unwavering determination of the
people in my homeland of
Tibet and
the recent demonstrations in Burma are powerful reminders
of this truth. Freedom is the very source of creativity
and human development. It is not enough, as communist
systems assumed, to provide people with food, shelter and
clothing. If we have these things but lack the precious
air of liberty to sustain our deeper nature, we remain
only half-human.
In the
past, oppressed peoples often resorted to violence in
their struggle to be free. But visionaries such as Mahatma
Gandhi and the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. have shown us
that successful changes can be brought about nonviolently.
I believe that, at the basic human level, most of us wish
to be peaceful. Deep down, we desire constructive,
fruitful growth and dislike destruction.
Many
people today agree that we need to reduce violence in our
society. If we are truly serious about this, we must deal
with the roots of violence, particularly those that exist
within each of us. We need to embrace “inner disarmament,”
reducing our own emotions of suspicion, hatred and
hostility toward our brothers and sisters.
Furthermore, we must reexamine how we relate to the very
question of the use of violence in today’s profoundly
interconnected world. One may sometimes feel that one can
solve a problem quickly with force, but such success is
often achieved at the expense of the rights and welfare of
others. One problem may have been solved, but the seed of
another is planted, thus opening a new chapter in a cycle
of violence and counterviolence.
From the
Velvet Revolution in the former Czechoslovakia to the
popular prodemocracy movement in the
Philippines,
the world has seen how a nonviolent approach can lead to
positive political changes. But the genuine practice of
nonviolence is still at an experimental stage. If this
experiment succeeds, it can open the way to a far more
peaceful world. We need to embrace a more realistic
approach to dealing with human conflicts, an approach that
is in tune with a new reality of heavy interdependence in
which the old concepts of “we” and “they” are no longer
relevant. The very idea of total victory for one’s own
side and the total defeat of one’s enemy is untenable. In
violent conflicts, the innocent are often the first
casualties, as the war in Iraq and Sudan’s Darfur crisis
painfully remind us. Today, the only viable solution to
human conflicts will come through dialogue and
reconciliation based on the spirit of compromise.
Many of
the problems we confront today are our own creation. I
believe that one of the root causes of these man-made
problems is the inability of humans to control their
agitated minds and hearts—an area in which the teachings
of the world’s great religions have much to offer.
A
scientist from Chile once told me that it is inappropriate
for a scientist to be attached to his particular field of
study, because that would undermine his objectivity. I am
a Buddhist practitioner, but if I mix up my devotion for
Buddhism with an attachment to it, my mind will be biased
toward it. A biased mind never sees the complete picture,
and any action that results will not be in tune with
reality. If religious practitioners can heed this
scientist’s advice and refrain from being attached to
their own faith traditions, it could prevent the growth of
fundamentalism. It also could enable such followers to
genuinely respect faith traditions other than their own. I
often say that while one can adhere to the principle of
“one truth, one religion” at the level of one’s personal
faith, we should embrace, at the same time, the principle
of “many truths, many religions” in the context of wider
society. I see no contradiction between these two.
I do not
mean to suggest that religion is indispensable to a sound,
ethical way of life, or, for that matter, to genuine
happiness. In the end, whether one is a believer or a
nonbeliever, what matters is that one be a good, kind and
a warm-hearted person. A deep sense of caring for others,
based on a profound sense of interconnection, is the
essence of the teachings of all great religions of the
world. In my travels, I always consider my foremost
mission to be the promotion of basic human qualities of
goodness—the need for and appreciation of the value of
love, our natural capacity for compassion and the need for
genuine fellow feeling. No matter how new the face or how
different the dress and behavior, there is no significant
division between us and other people.
When I
first saw a photograph of Earth taken from outer space, it
powerfully brought home to me how small and fragile the
planet is and how petty our squabbles are. Amid our
perceived differences, we tend to forget how the world’s
different religions, ideologies and political systems were
meant to serve humans, not to destroy them. When I
traveled to the former Soviet Union in the late 1970s, I
encountered widespread paranoia, even among ordinary
people who feared that the West hated them so much that it
was ready to invade their country. Of course, I knew this
was mere projection.
Today,
more than ever, we need to make this fundamental
recognition of the basic oneness of humanity the
foundation of our perspective on the world and its
challenges. From the dangerous rate of global warming to
the widening gap between rich and poor, from the rise of
global terrorism to regional conflicts, we need a
fundamental shift in our attitudes and our consciousness—a
wider, more holistic outlook.
As a
society, we need to shift our basic attitude about how we
educate our younger generation. Something is fundamentally
lacking in our modern education when it comes to educating
the human heart. As people begin to explore this important
question, it is my hope that we will be able to redress
the current imbalance between the development of our
brains and the development of our hearts.
To promote
greater compassion, we must pay special attention to the
role of women. Given that mothers carry the fetus for
months within their own bodies, from a biological point of
view, women in general may possess greater sensitivity of
heart and capacity for empathy. My first teacher of love
and compassion was my own mother, who provided me with
maximum love. By speaking of mothers’ role in teaching
compassion, I do not mean to reinforce in any way the
traditional view that a woman’s place is confined to the
home. I believe that the time has come for women to take
more active roles in all domains of human society, in an
age in which education and the capacities of the mind, not
physical strength, define leadership. This could help
create a more equitable and compassionate society.
In
general, I feel optimistic about the future. As late as
the 1950s and ’60s, people believed that war was an
inevitable condition of mankind and that conflicts must be
solved through the use of force. Today, despite ongoing
conflicts and the threat of terrorism, most people are
genuinely concerned about world peace, far less interested
in propounding ideology and far more committed to
coexistence.
The rapid
changes in our attitude toward Earth are also a source of
hope. Until recently, we thoughtlessly consumed its
resources as if there were no end to them. Now, not only
individuals but also governments are seeking a new
ecological order. I often joke that the moon and stars
look beautiful, but if any of us tried to live on them, we
would be miserable. This blue planet of ours is the most
delightful habitat we know. Its life is our life, its
future our future. Now Mother Nature is telling us to
cooperate. In the face of such global problems as the
greenhouse effect and the deterioration of the ozone
layer, individual organizations and single nations are
helpless. Our mother is teaching us a lesson in universal
responsibility.
The 20th
century became a century of bloodshed; despite its
faltering start, the 21st century could become one of
dialogue, one in which compassion, the seed of
nonviolence, will be able to flourish. But good wishes are
not enough. We must seriously address the urgent question
of the proliferation of weapons and make worldwide efforts
toward greater external disarmament.
Large
human movements spring from individual human initiatives.
If you feel that you cannot have much of an effect, the
next person may also become discouraged, and a great
opportunity will have been lost. On the other hand, each
of us can inspire others simply by working to develop our
own altruistic motivations—and engaging the world with a
compassion-tempered heart and mind.
The 14th Dalai Lama, Tenzin Gyatso, is the spiritual
leader of Tibet. Since 1959 he has been living in
Dharamsala, in northern India, the seat of the Tibetan
government in exile.
*****
Afraid of the Dalai Lama?
By Maura Moynihan
Special to
The Washington Post
LAST month
the Dalai Lama received the Congressional Gold Medal,
Congress’s highest civilian honor, and China is throwing a
fit. “We are furious,” the Chinese Communist Party’s
secretary for Tibet, Zhang Qingli, declared. “If the Dalai
Lama can receive such an award, there must be no justice
or good people in the world.” In recent weeks China has
abruptly withdrawn from a summit on
Iran
and canceled a meeting with German Chancellor Angela
Merkel, who received the Dalai Lama in September. Beijing,
which according to The Post “solemnly demanded” that the
Bush administration cancel Washington events planned for
the Dalai Lama, is determined to punish and intimidate
anyone who might pay tribute to Tibet’s Nobel laureate.
Why is the
mighty People’s Republic of China so petrified of this
72-year-old Buddhist monk? True, the Dalai Lama is no
ordinary scholar and teacher; he is the living symbol of
the Buddhist faith. It seems that Beijing’s cadres fear
his moral authority and do not want the international
community to examine their record in Tibet, because they
have a lot to hide.
It has
been 48 years since the Dalai Lama eluded capture by the
People’s Liberation Army and escaped to
India,
whereupon Chairman Mao Zedong began to plunder
Tibet’s
wealth and murdered more than 1 million of its people. In
the mid-1990s, the Chinese politburo implemented the
“Strike Hard Campaign” that declared Buddhism “a disease
to be eradicated.” News of major protests in Tibet has not
been widely disseminated in recent years, and now the
survival of Tibetan civilization has reached a tipping
point. In 2000, China launched a vast infrastructure
campaign called “Opening and Development of the Western
Regions” and embarked on a new phase of subjugation and
control. Construction of rail and road links to Tibet,
such as the Qingzang railway that opened last year, has
accelerated Beijing’s surveillance of Tibetans and has
advanced the Sinofication of the Himalayan and Turkic
peoples who inhabit China’s western territories.
Exploiting
Tibet’s resources for the mainland’s industrial base is a
strategic and economic priority for China’s government,
which suppresses manifestations of Tibetan identity or
nationalism with blunt force. After a Tibetan exile from
New York and a few Americans unfurled a “Free Tibet” flag
on Mount Everest this spring, Beijing cracked down hard:
foreigners’ work permits, visas and prepaid tours were
abruptly canceled, and hundreds of Tibetan government
officials were fired and replaced by politburo
hard-liners.
But even
severe police-state tactics have failed to extinguish the
people’s devotion to the Dalai Lama. Demonstrations have
erupted across the Tibetan plateau; last month, for
instance, electric cattle prods were used on a gang of
teenagers who had painted Dalai Lama slogans on a tavern
wall. In July a festivalgoer in eastern
Tibet
who shouted “Long live the Dalai Lama” was dragged out by
riot police. The International Campaign for Tibet reported
this week that pilgrims to Buddhist shrines are being
harassed by armed Chinese soldiers and that persecution of
Buddhist monks, already frequently charged with
“unpatriotic activities,” has intensified.
China
is accustomed to reacting with brutality when its
supremacy is threatened, but now the state is imperiled by
forces that neither Maoist thought nor martial law can
control. Rapid growth has caused calamitous environmental
damage that could lead to food shortages and unhygienic
living and working conditions, which in turn could lead to
epidemics and, eventually, chaos. China’s 1.3 billion
people need solutions, not ordinances dictated by the
Communist Party’s Central Committee. But Beijing,
unwilling or unable to relinquish one-party rule, clings
to an obsolete worldview that demonizes the Dalai Lama
instead of engaging the statesman in a meaningful dialogue
on Tibet and China’s future.
The Dalai
Lama has been a refugee since 1959. He is still reaching
out to China’s leaders in an effort to heal the wounds of
the past and move forward peacefully. At the Capitol, he
said: “I have no hidden agenda; I am not trying to divide
China.... I am sincere in my wish to work with them.”
Chinese President Hu Jintao would rightfully earn
international acclaim if he abandoned Stalinist cant and
listened to what the Tibetan leader has to say while there
is still time to do so.
Maura Moynihan, an author, worked for Radio Free Asia from
1998 to 2000 and was previously a consultant with Refugees
International. |
