Wednesday, March 26, 2008

At Shuttered Gateway to Tibet, Unrest Simmers Against Chinese Rule

In a vast area of mountainous Chinese villages near the Tibet border, life centers on the spiritual, as at a nunnery, above, but the area remains a battle zone. (Greg Baker/Associated Press)
CHENGDU, China: Mar. 26th. (NY Times) — In the back room of a Tibetan teahouse, three robed monks spoke in whispers. One monk said his home in Luhuo County had been littered with fliers calling on Tibetans to protest. A second monk said soldiers had surrounded his monastery in Aba County. The third dialed home. After folding shut his cellphone, he said the police had killed one Tibetan protester and injured nine others in Serta County. “Tibetans are dying for no reason,” said the Luhuo monk, as the whine of a police siren drifted through an open window. “But this is happening in remote places, and nobody knows.” From this city of 10 million people in the middle of China, all roads leading west have been closed — except to convoys carrying soldiers and riot police officers to subdue Tibetan antigovernment protests. Chengdu has always been a gateway to the remote Tibetan plateau, but now it feels like a border outpost, tense and anxious, at the eastern edge of what several Tibetans here described as a war. If it is a war, it is one the outside world cannot see. Police roadblocks have closed off a mountainous region about the size of France, spanning parts of the provinces of Sichuan, Gansu and Qinghai. Foreign journalists trying to investigate reports of bloodshed are turned away or detained. Even in big cities like Chengdu, Tibetans say they are wary of police retaliation. They pass along secondhand accounts of clashes mostly on condition that their names will not appear in print.

What seems clear is that in the isolated region west of Chengdu, the sometimes violent protests, already the broadest and most sustained agitation against Chinese rule in two decades, have continued despite the influx of armed security forces. Lhasa itself is now under heel. But a vast area of highlands and placid villages, where Tibetan life usually centers on temples and monasteries built of wood and earth, remains a battle zone. On Tuesday, protesters and the police clashed in Garze, a prefecture of Sichuan, state media and a Tibetan rights group said. Some 200 monks and nuns began a march earlier in the day that turned violent when the police sought to suppress the crowd, the India-based Tibetan Center for Human Rights and Democracy said. China’s Xinhua news agency said the police opened fire in self-defense after the demonstrators attacked them with knives and stones. The rights group said one 18-year-old monk was killed and another was critically injured, while Xinhua said protesters killed one policeman. In Chengdu, Tibetans gravitate to a neighborhood that is beside an ancient Chinese temple called Wuhouci. The area is known for a teeming marketplace that sells Tibetan Buddhist ceremonial objects, clothing and art. Usually, Tibetan monks and traders pass through the market, buying crimson robes or printed scriptures, but the police lockdown has left many people stranded and desperate for news from home. “Do you know how many died in Aba?” asked Nyima, 28, a monk from the Garong monastery in Nyagrong County. He has lived in Chengdu for three months, sleeping above his shop.

After the unrest in Lhasa, violent clashes between Tibetans and security forces erupted in Aba. Officials later said the police fired in self-defense on a crowd of Tibetans that had attacked the local police station and set it on fire. Tibetans who have called relatives in Aba say the death toll may be more than 20; that could not be independently confirmed. A young Tibetan woman from Aba who sells Buddhist statues and jewelry at a local shop said her family was safe but had also warned her that the conflict in Aba had not yet ended. “They are fighting a war,” said the woman. A Tibetan college student from Aba had also made a worried call home. His relatives described a confrontation that began at the local Kirti monastery. The student’s family said a huge contingent of soldiers arrived with weapons. “People got very nervous,” the student said. In recent years, authorities tightened religious restrictions, including closing down a religious school. On March 16, protests began at Aba after a monk at Kirti declared that Tibetans should not have to live under Chinese rule. Protesters holding images of the Dalai Lama marched through the streets, the student said.

The police initially did not stop them. But when protesters burned a police station, soldiers with machine guns fired into crowds, killing at least 13 Tibetans, the student said. He said several Chinese soldiers had been killed. “The next day, the town looked green with the soldiers,” he said. “Every day, helicopters hover over the city.” The police said Chengdu itself is secure. But the Wuhouci neighborhood is enduring its own lockdown. Armed police officers now surround the neighborhood. White patrol cars cruise the streets, flashing their lights as officers bark through megaphones at vehicles to keep them moving. Last week, the local police called a news conference to dispel rumors of a bomb threat. Chinese shopkeepers gossiped about reports that a Tibetan man from Aba had stabbed and killed two Han Chinese in the city. The police confirmed that a stabbing had occurred but said a single victim had only minor injuries.

Monks and other Tibetans are meeting in quiet corners. In the back room of the Tibetan teahouse, the three monks compared notes. One, age 40, told news of Serta County, where he said Tibetans had taken over a government compound and raised the Tibetan national flag. Another monk had come to Chengdu from Aba to purchase printed Buddhist scriptures. Now, he gathered information by telephone. Armed police officers had circled six monasteries in Aba and arrested “many, many” monks, he said. He was told that 23 people had died so far, even though China’s state-run media has reported only four injuries. Two days later, one of the three monks again called his hometown of Luhuo. “The sound of gunfire can be heard in Luhuo,” the monk said. “A lama died. A soldier died. They are fighting a war now.”

By JAKE HOOKER with Jimmy Wang contributed reporting from Chengdu, and Jim Yardley from Beijing.
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