Dibyesh Anand - Geopolitical Exotica

I am prepared, when the Communists are chased out of Tibet, to accompany an expedition of sceptics and show them the yetis in the Highlands. They can use oxygen and bearers, I will use my old monk's robe. Cameras will prove the truth. We had no photographic equipment in Tibet in those days. (220; emphasis in original)

Nor is the audience (the West) ever absent from the narrative. The "autobiography" indulges in the representational strategy of (self-)criticism when Tibet is compared favorably to the West. The Dalai Lama warns Rampa that, while one could discuss the "Greater Realities" in Tibet and China, in the West one had to be extra careful because Westerners "worship commerce and gold"-"they ask for 'proof' while uncaring that their negative attitude of suspicion kills any chance of their obtaining that proof" (112).

Yeti, time travel, hypnotism, telepathy, levitation, astral travel, clairvoyance, invisibility-Tibet is a land of possibilities! It combines mysticism and fantasy, being both a lost horizon and a future utopia.

Exotica Tibet is a product of the Western imagination. It therefore comes as no surprise to see Tibet operating as a physical and imaginative playground for Westerners and their desires. Representational strategies of self-affirmation and self-criticism are as integral to the Western imagination of Tibet today as they were in the past. Tibet is seen as offering essential spiritual services to humanity. Tibet provides a set for the "drama of white people" (Norbu 1998, 20). The role of Tibet as a colorful [45]and transformative backdrop can be explored in Seven Years in Tibet-both the book and the Hollywood movie.

Seven Years in Tibet (1956) is an account of the Austrian Heinrich Harrer's time in Tibet. With the outbreak of the Second World War, the British in India interned Harrer. After some unsuccessful attempts, he escaped in 1944 and, along with Peter Aufschnaiter, crossed the Himalayas into Tibet. After dodging officials, they managed to reach Lhasa in early 1946. Instead of being turned back, they were accepted by the authorities in Lhasa. Harrer's account of his stay in Tibet covers a crucial time in Tibetan history, its last years as an independent state. He also became an official paid by the Tibetans and tutored the young Dalai Lama before he was forced to leave Lhasa in 1951 when the Chinese took control.

It is interesting to note that Harrer and his companion set out for Lhasa just after the war was over. So it was not the escape from the British but the "lure of the Forbidden City" that encouraged them (86-87). In the tradition of previous travelers to Lhasa, Harrer describes his first sight of the golden roofs of Potala: "This moment compensated us for much. We felt inclined to go down on our knees like the pilgrims and touch the ground with our forehead" (113).

Though the representational strategies of idealization and self-criticism are dominant, Harrer's attitude is full of ambiguity. He writes of his infuriation with the "fatalistic resignation" (145) with which Tibetans lent themselves to backbreaking toil (they did not use the wheel) and is scathing about the Tibetan government's attitude toward modern medicine, hygiene, and sanitation. He writes disparagingly of the prevalence of venereal disease and homosexuality (186). Yet he "did not miss the appliances of Western civilization. Europe with its life of turmoil seemed far away" (156). While pondering whether progress in the form of a motor road to India would be good, he thinks, "One should not force a people to introduce inventions which are far ahead of their stage of evolution… Tibetan culture and way of life more than compensates for the advantages of modern techniques" (185; emphasis added). The admirable aspects of Tibetan culture, for Harrer, include the "perfect courtesy of the people" and "cultivated and elegant" upper-class women. In his more recent Return to Tibet (1985), Harrer provides an even more nostalgic account of Tibet as a surrogate society: "Would it not be marvellous if our young people could also possess their land of mystery and magic, their Shangri-La, a goal they would exert their best efforts to attend?" (173). He affirms that this Shangri-la for him was Tibet.

In its film version, Seven Years in Tibet (1997) loses almost all its ambiguity. It becomes the story of Harrer, a self-centered and individualistic Westerner, who is transformed in Tibet. Superlatives abound in descriptions of Tibet-"roof of the world," "highest country on earth," "most isolated," "medieval stone fortress towering in the centre of Asia," and so on. In Seven Years in Tibet the people of Lhasa "casually offer pearls of wisdom about the harmony of Tibet in comparison to the West" (Hansen 2001, 105): one Tibetan says, "We admire a man who abandons his ego, unlike you, who admire those who reach the top." Yet the movie, along with Martin Scorsese's Kundun (also see Frontline 1998a), played a crucial role in highlighting Tibet in the Western popular imagination. It brought to the attention of consumers of Hollywood that there is/was a place called Tibet. The film adaptation of Seven Years in Tibet follows a certain shift within Exotica Tibet-a conflation of the Dalai Lama with Tibet. While Tibet was clearly a set for an adventure for Harrer in the book, Brad Pitt as Harrer in the film is more humble and self-conscious, and the figure of the young Dalai Lama is particularly prominent.

Tibet as it emerged in the modern world as a geopolitical entity has been scripted in a tale combining imperialism, Orientalism, and nationalism. This chapter foregrounds the role of Western representations in the framing of the "identity of Tibet," that is, Tibet as a geopolitical entity. The West is not seen as an outsider in the "Tibet question" but as a constituent part of it. Specific Western conceptualizations of territoriality, practices of imperial diplomacy, and contemporary foreign policies have constructed the "Tibet" within the "Tibet question." [46]Through a historical analysis of the crucial role played by British imperialism in the framing of the Tibet question in terms of sovereignty and independence, this chapter brings into relief the constitutive relation between the discourse of sovereignty and the practice of representation. It argues that Tibet is not some prediscursive geographical entity but a place that is discursively constructed through imaginative practices of the various actors involved. [47]The chapter also briefly explores ways in which popular imaginations of Tibet have impacted the foreign policy of prominent Western states toward Tibet since the Chinese takeover in 1951.

The contemporary Chinese claim over Tibet is based on a version of Chinese history that sees the present-day nation-state as a successor to a longer history of Chinese civilization marked by a number of imperial phases. Tibet was historically linked with various Chinese empires and therefore the Chinese deem it part of modern China. What the exact nature of Tibet was within different empires in China is not considered a crucial factor, for what is important is that Tibet was subordinate to the Sino-centric empires. It is this historical subservience that underpins the argument asserting Chinese sovereignty over Tibet forever. On the other hand, Tibetans have argued that "Tibet was an independent, sovereign nation when the armies of the People's Republic of China ('PRC') entered Tibet in 1950. Tibet at that time presented all the attributes of statehood" (TPPRC 2000, 1). They seek to explain the traditional Sino-Tibetan relations in terms of principles that are not transferable into the modern notion of sovereignty. The personal, religious, and ambiguous nature of Sino-Tibetan relations is ridden roughshod over by the modern concept of sovereignty-China never had sovereignty over Tibet. All sides (Tibetans less so than the others) underplay the fact that sovereignty talk itself is alien to the traditional modes of interaction in the Sino-Tibetan world (Sperling 2004; see also Constantinou 1998).