The spirit of compassion
The Dalai Lama visits Montreal to promote peace and reconciliation
by Michael Bramadat-Willcock

The Dalai Lama shared his words of wisdom at the Bell Centre. GRAPHIC EMILIO ESTEBAN

Contemporary Tibetan dancers shared the stage with His Holiness GRAPHIC EMILIO ESTEBAN
“Oh, Himalayan mountains, you are a prison to me. Please move aside for a moment with your curtain of clouds so that I can see my Lhasa and the Potala Palace before I die.”
Dhondup Tashi sings these words as he sits on the streets and strums his guitar, looking up at the sky as if praying for a miracle.
Tashi, a Tibetan refugee in his twenties, is living in Dharamshala, northern India, otherwise known as the de facto capital of the Tibetan government in exile. His story is similar to that of many young Tibetans who escaped on foot from Chinese-occupied Tibet across the Himalayan mountain chain to India.
Since fleeing at the age of 16, Tashi has not seen or spoken to his grandmother, parents or siblings who are still in Tibet. He said running away was his father’s idea, since he wanted his son to have the opportunity to learn about Tibetan culture and gain an appreciation for his heritage, an impossible education while living in occupied Tibet.
After narrowly escaping capture by the Chinese army, who monitor the high-altitude border between Tibet and India, Tashi is relieved to have made it this far.
“Capture would have meant time in prison,” he said. “They also might have caught my parents and tortured them too, for putting such thoughts of escape into my head.”
Tashi has had no contact with his family since leaving for India. He fears the Chinese police would read his letters and persecute his parents for their involvement in his flight.
“To save herself, my mother told the police that she knew nothing of where I had gone and that she was very disappointed in me,” he said. “If I contact my parents, the police will know that they were lying. So I have not written them and they do not know if I am alive or dead.
“Someday, I pray that I will see them again.”
A history of occupation
In 1959, Mao Zedong’s People’s Liberation Army annexed Tibet under the pretext of liberating its population from what Mao called a corrupt religious monarchy.
At the time, Tibetan society stood in stark contrast to that of China, practising a deeply pious Buddhism within a political and religious system of hierarchy based on hereditary bloodlines, spiritual merit and the concept of reincarnation.
Under the Chinese communist system, Tibetans are not allowed to practise Buddhism freely nor worship the Dalai Lama, who represents a spiritual and religious focal point of their society.
In his meeting with the young Dalai Lama prior to the occupation of Tibet in 1954, Mao famously said that “religion is poison.” These words proved to be telling of his attitude towards Tibetan religious practices during the Chinese Cultural Revolution, when the majority of Tibetan Buddhist monasteries, as well as thousands of ancient religious texts, historical records and artwork, were destroyed.
“The real goal,” said Tibetan political activist Tenzin Choedon, who marched with a group of demonstrators en route through India, “was to eliminate any challenge to the authority of the Communist party. Religion was a major threat because it can be more powerful than devotion to the Communist party.”
Since the occupation began in 1949, the Chinese authorities have been accused of extreme heavy-handedness. Acts as simple as raising the Tibetan flag or yelling “Bhod Gyalo,” Tibetan for “Free Tibet,” are punishable by imprisonment, torture or death. This treatment, as well as the stories that are told beyond the borders, has won Tibet popular sympathy in North America and Europe.
A march to Tibet
On March 10, 2008, the anniversary of Tibetan National Uprising Day, a coalition of Tibetan organizations staged a three-month, 2,250-kilometre march from the refugee community of Dharamshala to New Delhi and then to Tibet.
Over 300 strong, the peaceful walk made its way toward the India-Tibet border, where Chinese troops were armed and waiting.
In what could be seen as either a lucky turn of events or as a breach of international laws on the rights of refugees, the Indian army refused to let the group cross into Chinese occupied territory, ultimately saving them from the bullets on the other side.
Hoping to return to their homeland after three months of walking along the dusty roads of India, the group of old men, monks, nuns and protesters experienced the reality of occupational politics firsthand: at a mere 22 kilometres away from Tibet, they were denied entry.
One of the Indian police officers said that the pressure to arrest had come from the central government in order to placate the Chinese, who had accused India of not properly controlling its citizens and supporting what they call “The Dalai Clique.”
Contemporary message of compassion
Another kind of Dalai following gathered on the heels of the Chinese Communist Party’s 60th anniversary celebrations on Oct. 3 where His Holiness gave a lecture on compassion to a crowd at Montreal’s Bell Centre.
“One religion [for] six billion human beings is like [only eating] one dish,” said the 74-year-old Buddhist monk before his public speech. “A variety of dishes means more satisfaction. Dish or spirituality, for mental peace, what we need are different positions.”
The Dalai Lama later spoke to a crowd of over 14,000 people, imploring a message of peace and harmony among a world of differences in philosophy, politics and personal beliefs.
All religions carry the same innate philosophy of love, compassion and forgiveness, he said, but the differences between religions are necessary to satisfy a variety of people.
In the final act of the Dalai Lama’s talk, The Tibetan Artist Collective of Montreal—also called Dung-Dkar—performed a contemporary dance drama. Their name, meaning conch shell, represents a good luck token sacred to Tibetan Buddhists and is used in religious ceremonies.
The TACM created a closing spectacle that incorporated both Tibetan history and values into modern motion, involving many dancers of all ages, as well as many non-Tibetan members, hailing from as far as Vietnam and as local as the city of Montreal.
Deepali Lindblom, a dancer in the TACM with roots in Darjeeling, northern India, has always been inspired by Tibetan culture.
“Every time an old Tibetan man dies, a piece of Tibetan history dies with him,” Lindblom said. “Our mission is to make sure that Tibetan culture continues to flourish.”
Illuminating the Tibetan story in a positive and interactive way, the Dung-Dkar dance drama is just one example of a wider revival in Tibetan art, culture and consciousness.
A growing dialogue
The Tibetan Chinese Youth Dialogue project is an example of the ways in which community members are coming together despite their differences. The proactive efforts to raise consciousness by the TCYD build understanding between communities by holding debates, social events and lectures.
The organization has also created a social space where youth can feel comfortable networking and sharing ideas.
According to Cindy Chung, an organizer from the TCYD, the Dalai Lama’s recent visit to Canada was instrumental in bringing about a greater understanding of the history of occupation in Tibet on the part of Chinese and Tibetan youth.
There is a light at the end of the tunnel, said Chung. “So many people have such great respect for the Dalai Lama and his message of Tibetan-Chinese friendship will definitely raise consciousness not only on the importance of bridging the gap, but also in understanding [and] appreciating each other’s culture, history and identity.”