Modernise, Or Else! Building the New Lhasa

The 1990s has seen an unprecedented modernisation offensive in Tibet, and an attempt to transform the ancient capital into a frontier boom-town. But how much say do Tibetans have in the future of their country?

When supreme leader Deng Xiaoping toured China's southern provinces in early 1992 and launched the now famous 'Spring Tide' initiative, it was a signal of the central leadership's vigorous support for liberal economic reforms. Since that time, many of China's southern and eastern provinces have experienced unprecedented economic growth, with the development of free enterprise and the emergence of domestic consumerism, fuelled both by foreign investment and greater internal mobility of capital and labour.

In the same period, party and government officials in the Tibet Autonomous Region (TAR) unleashed a new 'Socialist Modernisation' programme that emphasised urban construction, improved infrastructure, and development of a market economy while maintaining the ongoing imperative to 'crush separatism' and ensure 'stability'. The now frequently cited 22-character guideline handed down from the Party Central Committee reads, "Seize the Opportunity, Deepen Reform, Open up Wider, Promote Development, Maintain Stability."

The grandiose language of the socialist planners can be hard to fathom, but TAR'S Deputy Party Secretary Raidi (Rakti in Tibetan), addressing cadres in the Tibetan capital in early 1994, spelled the policies out in clearer terms. In the Xizang Ribao of 2 August 1994, he described 'reform' as "linking Tibet's economic restructuring with the whole country", and 'stability' as "stepping up construction of contingents of troops stationed in Tibet, armed police, judicial, procuratorial and public security workers."

A few days later, Raidi's colleague Danzim (Tib: Tenzin) told a visiting delegation from Macao, as reported in Xizang Ribao: "We firmly believe that a united, prosperous and civilised Socialist New Tibet will surely be able to stand firm on the Tibet plateau—the roof of the world." During their stay, the delegation had negotiated a contract worth 600 million Yuan (Y8=U$1, approximately) to build an entertainment park on an island on Lhasa river.

In Lhasa city itself, 'socialist modernisation' policies since the spring of 1992 have had some highly visible effects. Firstly, a significant increase in the city's population, principally due to an influx of Han economic migrants from mainland provinces. Secondly, a marked increase in urban growth, including a burst of new construction projects—commercial, residential, official, military—throughout the city.

Neither are exactly new developments. One of the authoritative city planning documents (CCP Central Committee Document No. 31-1980) finalised in 1985 and subsequently leaked to western researchers states that "the population of the city has developed from 30,000 at the beginning of the Liberation to some 110,000 now. The built-up area has increased from Less than 3 sq km to 25 sq km. The newly constructed area is ten times that of the old city… By the year 2000 population should be controlled so as to be 200,000. The area for construction should be 42 sq km by this time… (We shall) create a city that is relatively perfect, beneficial for production, convenient for daily life, rich, civilised and clean."

In fact, official population figures are notoriously unreliable throughout the People's Republic of China (PRC); official sources still give figures from 120,000 to 180,000 for the Lhasa of today, also claiming that 87 percent are Tibetan. The Han population of TAR is said to be merely three percent. Unofficial estimates of Lhasa's civilian population range from 300,000 to 400,000, perhaps 20-30 percent Tibetan.

The dramatic increase in the Han population since 1992 is due to the influx of migrant entrepreneurs attracted by the new economic climate and the relaxation of controls on internal movement. Roadblocks between TAR and neighbouring provinces were reportedly lifted in December 1992, and bureaucratic controls such as residence permits are now waived in favour of such migrants, according to an independent 1994 survey on Chinese economic migrants by a Western group, the Alliance for Research in Tibet (ART). A considerable number of the new arrivals, perhaps 20-30 percent, are Hui-zhou Muslims from the north—western provinces of China, noted for their willingness to travel in pursuit of business opportunities—but the majority, about 45 percent of those questioned in the survey, are from the populous Sichuan province bordering eastern Tibet.

The majority of the new migrants are engaged in the commercial and retail sectors. They have swollen the city's Han population, formerly composed of soldiers, officials, technicians, engineers and cadres posted here. In 1993, an unofficial head count of shops and businesses in Lhasa found that Tibetan-owned concerns accounted for 10-15 percent of the total, government-owned concerns 8-9 percent, with the remainder being run by ethnic Han or Hui entrepreneurs. The Xinhua news agency reported in August that 1700 new businesses had opened in Lhasa since January. It added: "A series of preferential policies have been stipulated which encourage the rapid growth of the private sector."

The Four Modernisations

Other effects of 'socialist modernisation' in Lhasa are less visible and more difficult to assess, but they are matters of some concern to Tibetan residents. These could be considered in four categories: inflation and price rise, privatisation of public services and increasing official corruption, Tibetan unemployment and economic polarisation, and pollution—both environmental and spiritual.

Inflation. Tibet is increasingly linked with the dynamic mainland economy, which has been characterised by spiralling inflation and 'over-heating' in recent years. The current rate of inflation in the PRC, as reported by Newsweek in September 1994, is estimated at 30 percent. The prices of many basic commodities have soared since 1991-92, but this is also partly due to the cancellation of subsidised rations.

According to local sources, butter went from Y5 per gyama (500 gm) in 1990 to Y15-17 in 1994; wheat flour from Y30 per 50 gyama to Y77, kerosene from Y0.8 per litre to Y2.8, sugar from Yl per gyama to Y3, electricity from Y0.05 per unit to Y0.4, petrol from Y1.7 per litre to Y3, tea from Yl per brick to Y3, dried milk from Y4 per packet to Y7.5, tomatoes from Y0.5 per gyama to Y2.7, and blue canvas boots from Y4 per pair to Y9.5. In addition, the costs of rent, transport and consumer goods have increased sharply, as has the need to bribe officials to obtain permits or receive public services.

Privatisation, corruption. Although senior PRC officials frequently refer to the large subsidies lavished on Tibet as a "special consideration" to ensure free medical care, education, tax exemptions etc., these benefits have now effectively given way to market forces. Private clinics have appeared on the street corners as health workers desert the poorly-funded and demoralised state hospitals. Nearby, one may find a pharmacy illicitly selling off 'surplus' hospital drugs.

Meanwhile, the legions of regulatory officials encountered in everyday life are by no means always well-paid or scrupulous. It seems that any new business in the Tibetan quarter of Lhasa can expect extortionate demands from tax officials, fire and health inspectors and others for concealed bribes or spurious payments of one kind or another. Citizens may find themselves obliged to bribe officials with sums stretching into thousands of Yuan for anything from reallocation of housing to birth or marriage certificates and residence permits (still mandatory for Tibetans). With the average Tibetan monthly wage at around Y200-300, this can be expensive.

Economic Polarisation. While surveys or statistics are not available, there is little doubt that unemployment is increasing among Tibetans in Lhasa. The current economic boom has excluded them for two main reasons. First, jobs and advancement in Chinese economic life usually depend on guangxi or personal connections, and Han people naturally prefer their own kind. Second, Tibetan workers generally cannot compete on the modern sector's terms—economic efficiency—with their Han counterparts, who are fully accustomed to the cut-throat competition and ruthless commercial ethics of mainland China.

Inability to compete has led to marginalisation of the traditional Tibetan economy. Tibetan products—whether it is dri butter, woollen carpets, wooden tables or leather boots—tend to be more natural and of higher quality than Chinese consumer goods, but they are increasingly unaffordable. Artisans must adapt to competition with the mainstream mass-production economy, while consumers must adapt to cheap and shoddy imported products. Those still engaged in the traditional economy—artisans, shopkeepers, traders, farmers—cannot keep up with the rising cost of urban living. To make ends meet, many have resorted to renting their homes and fields to Han migrants.

Pollution. According to official reports (carried in the Xizang Ribao) it is only in the last year that Lhasa's municipal authorities have sought foreign contractors to build a sewage plant in the city. Until now, such facilities have remained limited, and the bulk of the untreated sewage has been dumped directly in the Kyichu river. Rubbish and wastes are routinely dumped along the highway east of the Lhasa bridge. A municipal 'clean-up' campaign in August 1993 apparently did not even address the issue of pollution, but concentrated instead on erecting railings and traffic barriers, and on clearing beggars and itinerants from the alleys of the old city.

Nonetheless, the TAR government does have a bureau responsible for environmental protection. Its report for 1993 states that discharge of waste gases in Lhasa increased by 40 percent over the previous year, discharge of waste water by 133 percent (including the Yangpachen geothermal plant), and discharge of industrial solid wastes by 17 percent. Environmental noise was measured at above 60 decibels in Central Lhasa, exceeding permitted national levels.

Some Lhasa residents regard 'spiritual pollution' (a communist phrase applied mostly against 'degenerate Western values') as the real downside of modernisation. Lhasa's streets, formerly deserted after nightfall, now buzz with nightclubs, Karaokebars, video halls and brothels. By day, the young, the idle and the footloose dawdle around pool tables and game machines, or gaze at crude martial arts videos blaring from dismal screens. Alcoholism, street crime, robbery, and violent behaviour are all said to be increasing.

Overall, one has the firm impression that few Tibetans in Lhasa are enthused with the 'socialist modernisation' policies, and that many regard them as official encouragement for Han migration to the TAR and domination of the local economy. A leaflet produced by the underground group Cholsum Thuntsok and distributed in August 1992 reads: "Nowadays China is opening up the whole of Tibet on the pretext of economic development, but in reality it is in order to deny Tibetans rights and work through the end less transfer of Chinese people to live here… Anyone who has eyes can see houses for Chinese being constructed everywhere in great haste."

Patriotic License

It is not easy to get a clear picture of what is happening in Tibet, simply because despite the 'open policy' it remains a tightly closed country in many respects. Information is hard to obtain under a regime that forbids open discussion of public policy, zealously withholds news and information from the public domain, incarcerates and brutalises dissenters, and brands foreign critics as "enemies". If even the population figures for Lhasa are considered controversial, how much more so are investigation and analysis of public opinion and social trends?

In the prevailing climate of rumour, suspicion and secrecy, documentary evidence of behind-the-scene controversy and discontent is especially interesting. A recent example was the proceedings of the second session of the sixth assembly of the TAR branch of the Chinese Peoples' Political Consultative Conference (CPPCC) held in Lhasa in May 1994. The CPPCC (TAR) is largely composed of senior Tibetan 'patriots' such as high lamas and former aristocrats. They are usually called upon to endorse official policy, but they also have some license to articulate the views and sensibilities of the Tibetan nationality in official fora. Documents from the May session show that some delegates availed themselves of this license, using moderate and patriotic language to criticise the excesses of the modernisation drive and to appeal for corrective measures.

Remarks jointly attributed to several deputies in the conference reports of the May session state the following: "…carrying out the economic development reforms is a major task for the Party and regional government and there is no doubt as to the importance and benefit of deepening and strengthening reform work for the national and regional aspirations for economic growth and development. Meanwhile, economic stability cannot be ensured since prices depend on market fluctuation. However, Tibet is a special minority region, very backward in development, and many of its people remain in a condition of poverty. Thus the people's government should act to survey and stabilise prices of items essential to the needs of the Tibetan masses—such as grain, oil, meat, butter, tea etc…"

Deputy Namgyal, a Lhasa delegate, pointed out that "workers' monthly salaries are very low compared with the rising cost of living. Price rises should be more gradual and carefully planned… there is now a strong tendency for the gap between rich and poor to widen. This is a matter of great concern, and planning must make provision for the income available to the ordinary masses."

Other Lhasa delegates complained: "Naturally we can expect to have the national inflation rate of 10 percent, but while last year a gyama of onions cost no more than Y0.3, this year it is Y5, and that is a severe excess. The cost of staple foods consumed by the Tibetan masses such as tea and butter have risen sharply, and Lhasa's markets are full of phoney and low-quality products… the authorities should keep a vigorous cheek on prices and clamp down on illegal market practices in accordance with law."

Other concerns raised by Tibetan delegates included corruption, under-funding and mismanagement of State education and health services, cultural degeneration, and disregard of the Tibetan language. On several occasions during the two-week session, Lhasa delegates issued forthright denunciations of the city's new 'cultural markets'. The spread of bars, karaoke, video halls, dancing clubs, prostitution and alcohol was described as a new and unwelcome trend, harmful to youth and offensive to Buddhist values.

Lhasa's city government responded to these complaints within three months by introducing yet another echelon of business regulations. According to the Xizang Ribao of 14 August, the 'cultural business permit' now requires all operators in the entertainment sector, on pain of losing their licenses, to "undertake to serve the people and socialism, pay attention to social benefits and provide the people with rich, colourful, healthy and beneficial cultural life.'

Tibetan Marginalisation

While new regulations have been enacted to control the entertainment industry, it seems unlikely that the authorities will act to redress the more substantive concerns raised by CPPCC (TAR) members—many of which are shared by ordinary Tibetan citizens. In the case of Lhasa, they can be divided into four main areas: housing, health, education and employment.

Housing. A large number of traditional houses in the Barkhor area of old Lhasa have been demolished since 1992. According to the city planning document cited earlier, the majority of traditional buildings still remaining in Lhasa's historic city centre will be gone by the year 2000, with the exception of designated 'cultural relics' such as the Jokhang and Ramoche temples.

Official sources claim that the destruction is necessary to improve infrastructure—facilities such as electricity, water, sewerage and roads in the city centre. However, an ART survey of construction in the Barkhor neighbourhood in 1993, which surveyed 67 construction sites, found not only that many of the buildings being demolished were both attractive and structurally sound, but that provision of modern facilities was minimal, and had even worsened since a similar survey was conducted in 1990. New public housing units were being installed with a meagre electricity supply, and low gauge, unsafe wiring—as little as 200 watts per family apartment, insufficient for cooking or heating. About 30-40 apartments in each housing unit had to share a single courtyard tap. Commercial premises and privileged housing units, meanwhile, were liberally supplied with electricity.

The new construction employs abysmally low standards of safety and workmanship. As art historian Heather Stoddard points out in Tibet Transformed: A Pictorial Essay (The International Campaign for Tibet, 1994), the square, regimented concrete of socialist China that is replacing characteristic Tibetan architecture is not even utilitarian. The new houses, unlike the old, cannot withstand earth tremors, and the breeze blocks and cement used in construction are quite unsuited to the extremes of Tibet's climate.

Tibetan families in public housing are now obliged to pay around Y400-500 in annual rent for lesser space, greater discomfort and poorer facilities than before—roughly a tenfold increase since the demolition project began in 1990. At the May session of the CPPCC (TAR), Lhasa delegate Jampal described the new housing in Lhasa as "unsuitable for local conditions and not in accordance with Tibetan culture" and "an architectural travesty".

Finally, it is significant that 19 of the 67 surveyed sites were private Tibetan homes, employing Tibetan labour and materials—earth, wood and stone. Several of these were found to be well-built, harmonious dwellings, well-serviced with electricity and piped water. Tibetan houses are more costly and time-consuming to build, but they are otherwise unquestionably superior in the view of most Tibetans—and the skills required to build them are still available in Lhasa today.

Health. In recent years, there has been some ambiguity over the provision of state medical care in Lhasa. Official sources still claim that basic medical care is freely available to holders of residence permits, while local Tibetans frequently complain of corruption, exorbitant payments, ethnic discrimination, and lack of care at the city and regional hospitals. A deposit of Y1000 is said to be a prerequisite for serious treatment.

Mismanagement and poor morale among the health care staff seem to be as much of a problem as under-funding. In May, according to conference reports, Thubten Buchung of Lhasa's city hospital told fellow CPPCC (TAR) delegates: "Of the 105 hospitals and clinics in Lhasa prefecture, the majority are not functioning. Some have medicine but no equipment, others even lack medicine due to inadequate funds… I have been complaining about this for years, but nothing has been done."

In June 1994, the authorities seemed to be abandoning the pretence of free medical care when a new official cost structure and booklet' issue was announced at a series of local meetings. But there seems to have been no attempt to clamp down on the black-market in drugs and services or on corrupt practices.

About the same time, there was a popular rumour that a Tibetan policeman had shot dead two Han Chinese doctors after his wife died in childbirth in the city hospital's reception area. Despite the woman's emergency condition, she had been denied entry to the building until she produced Y1000—by the time her husband returned with the money, both the mother and the baby were dead. It is difficult to ascertain the veracity of this report, but even as legend it is indicative of some popular perceptions—ethnic discrimination, intransigent officials, and corruption. And Tibetan anger.

Alternatives to conventional medicine are available in Lhasa—the traditional Mentsikhang hospital was reopened during the 1980's, and there are training programmes in Tibetan medicine in all areas of the TAR. However, few skilled practitioners remain in Tibet—many are in South Asia and in the West—and the limited instruction received by trainee doctors in Tibet represents but a paltry fragment of the traditional medical system. Despite its popularity, the authorities have not conspicuously awarded the traditional sector of the health service with funds or encouragement.

Education.State education in the TAR has been a subject of some controversy, arising from Tibetan allegations of ethnic discrimination and Mandarin linguistic domination, as well as claims that the Tibetan nationality is effectively excluded from the higher levels of the party, government, military, scientific and professional establishments by educational disadvantage. Official sources insist that the Tibetan language is widely taught in schools, that. education is free for Tibetans, and that 'positive discrimination' policies assist disadvantaged minorities to compete for official posts. In practice, Mandarin is the language of instruction at the secondary level and above, and access to higher education is uncommon. Only 45 percent of last year's entrants to Tibet University were Tibetan, according to a June 1994 report of the Tibetan Information Network (TIN).

Lhasa's schools, like its hospitals, suffer from lack of funding, mismanagement and demoralised staff. In theory they are still free, although some changes have been introduced, such as exam fees, charges for retaking failed exams, and so on. Lhasa delegates at the CPPCC session spoke of inadequate funds, lack of teachers and, among those available, lack of qualification. An appeal was issued for teachers to be given longer tenures so as to provide continuity and allow them to work effectively. Several suggestions were made for augmenting Tibetan language instruction at the primary level.

In the prevailing climate, it is not surprising that private schools—usually running evening classes in language and vocational skills—are becoming popular. Perhaps it is no more surprising that the authorities seem to have treated these schools with suspicion rather than encourage ment. In early 1994, one of the more prominent ones—Siljong Keyig Lopdra—was closed down and its director arrested, reports the Tibetan Review. The charges were unclear but may have been political.

Employment. Official figures or statements are unavailable, but available evidence suggests that Tibetans in Lhasa suffer unfair competition for jobs in the modern sector. What is more, there appears to be little or no official sponsorship or protection of workers in the traditional economy, including those in construction, artisans, and local commodity traders. In the face of overwhelming pressure from the modern sector, Lhasa's local economy may soon be extinct.

All this was demonstrated in a dramatic fashion in early June 1994, when 200-300 Tibetan traders from the Barkhor area gathered in front of the municipal government compound to protest against new increases of up to 50 percent in the local business tax. The demonstration was quickly and ruthlessly suppressed, and in subsequent days, the authorities refused to back down on the increase, despite the protester's closure of Barkhor shops.

There seems little doubt that TAR leaders felt emboldened in their hardline positions following the announcement in early June by the United States government that China's most-favoured-nation status renewal would no longer be conditional on human fights issues. A business tax of between Y100-200 per month is a considerable burden for most Tibetan shops and restaurants, but for the small stores and stalls in old Lhasa selling chang, butter, dried cheese, tsampa and so on, it is unpayable.

An October 1992 article in the Xizang Ribao actually celebrates the fact that Tibetans are increasingly found in demeaning, unskilled jobs as 'revolutionary'. An educated Tibetan man cleaning shoes outside the Workers' Cultural Palace in Lhasa was "revolutionary" because "in the past, Tibetan people never would do this kind of very low class work". The piece reflects a more general belief, rooted in Han chauvinism, that Tibetans are inefficient, unskilled and superstitious—"they lack the qualification" to compete in a modern economy.

This was also the view, albeit more elegantly expressed, of Chinese economists Wang Xiaociang and Bai Nanfeng in their 1991 study The Poverty of Plenty (Macmillan, London). There, it is argued that the Tibetan nationality must develop "commodity consciousness" before it can enter the modern economy as a competitive force. In other words, backward nationalities first have to become proletarianised before they can enter modern socialist society on an equal footing and enjoy its benefits.

Autonomous Tibet

The principle of autonomy for Tibet on the basis of its unique cultural heritage and physical environment is guaranteed by the PRC constitution. However, in recent years at least, the principle has had few supporters and no champions in the Beijing leadership. When the 'socialist modernisation' policy was launched in Lhasa in 1992, it included an attack on local officials who allegedly wished "to dilute the reforms and preserve Tibet's uniqueness."

Tibet Radio, 30 May 1992: "If we only stress the uniqueness of Tibet and are timid in carrying out reform and opening up, the existing gap between us and other provinces and regions…will become wider, we will become more and more backward and Tibet will become more and more unique." In a piece carried by the Xizang Ribao in May 1992, the TAR government was ridiculed for lacking ambition when its annual budget fixed the projected growth rate at "only 5.8 percent". The current target is 10 percent.

The appointment of Chen Kuiyuan as new deputy party secretary in the same period was followed by a clampdown on Tibetan cadres, who began to be openly suspected of disloyalty. Their failure to soften the thrust of the 'socialist modernisation' programme strongly indicates that Tibetan cadres have no substantive influence on the formulation of policy for the region, and that the issue of autonomy for Tibet within the PAC—the issue at the centre of Tibet-China relations since Liberation in 1951—is not being taken seriously by Beijing.

Moves aimed at undermining the unity and morale of Tibetan party and government workers were intensified during 1994. Although party members always had to accept the commitment to atheism, the liberalisation policies of the 1980s had reintroduced the principle of tolerance for the beliefs of national minorities. Last June and July, however, both government and party workers were told to eliminate even the vestiges of religious faith—shrines, rosaries, incense, hearths, prayer-flags—from their homes and their lives and those of their families, or face losing their jobs. They were also told to recall their children from schools in India by the end of the year or face the same penalty—a bitter blow since education abroad is often considered the best prospect for a Tibetan child's future.

Various reports on the enforcement of these measures were circulating in Lhasa during the autumn of 1994, including accounts of compulsory meetings and house inspections for the members of a wide range of work units and government offices in the city (from the Bank of China and the post office to the 'Bayi' and 'Chiyi' agricultural units) as well as in the provinces. The insistence on absolute loyalty to the Party, so reminiscent of the Maoist era, has re-emerged, and the witch-hunt is on.

The Xizang Ribao of 4 October 1994 states: "We should recognise the fact that the Dalai clique [a phrase referring to the exile government and its supporters in Tibet] is the main source of Tibet's instability and lack of development."

Both the refusal to compromise on 'socialist modernisation' in the TAR, and the effective dominance of Han cadres in the regional administration were firmly underlined in July 1994 at the high-level Third National Work Conference on Tibet, held in Beijing.

Speaking about the meeting on Tibet TV on 8 September 1994, Chen Kuiyuan said: "In line with comrade Deng Xiaoping's theory on building socialism with Chinese characteristics, the speeches given by comrades Jiang Zemin, Li Peng and Li Ruihan and in the 'Opinion on accelerating Tibet's development and maintaining its social stability' adopted by the CPC Central Committee and State Council analysed the new situation in Tibet and came up with new solutions to Tibet's problems…" These solutions would, he said, "Open a new chapter in the modernisation drive in the snowy plateau."

In fact, the meeting endorsed rapid economic development and renewed attention to religious and nationalities policy. President Jiang Zemin's speech included remarks on the continuing necessity of Han cadres to develop and administer Tibet. Meanwhile, according to a Tibet TV report of September 1994, the CPC Committee "specifically stipulated that party members must not have religious beliefs."

Much frustration and resentment is developing among Tibetans in Lhasa, and although its expression is for the moment curtailed by vigilant security measures, it cannot remain so forever.

Notes on sources:

 Xizang Ribao (Tibet Daily) is the TAR edition of Renmin Ribao (China Daily).

All reference to reportage in the Xizang Ribao, Tibet TV and Tibet Radio is sourced to the Summary of World Broadcasts from the BBC Monitoring Service in London.

CCP Central Committee Document No. 31 (1980) is an internal Party document leaked to Tibetan interest groups in the West. It is in Chinese.

Documents from the May 1994 Session of the CPPCC (TAR), intended for internal use only, were obtained unofficially by the writer.

The Tibet Information Network (TIN) is a London-based agency that provides news on Tibet from various sources. Its Coordinator is Robbie Barnett.

Tibetan Review is a New Delhi-based journal of Tibetan exiles and is edited by Tsering Wangyal.

Xiiihua is the government-owned news agency of China, with headquarters in Beijing.

The writer is an independent researcher on Himalayan and Tibetan affairs and a frequent visitor to Tibet. 'John Grey' is a pseudonym