The Language Divide: Identity and Literary Choices in Modern Tibet.
by Patricia Schiaffini A unique conjunction of factors during the 1980s made Lhasa an ideal place for the development of a new literature. The revival of Tibetan culture and beliefs at the end of the Cultural Revolution (1966 to 1976), the eagerness of a generation of oppressed intellectuals to find new ways of expression, and the coincidental gathering in Lhasa of a group of charismatic Tibetan and Hart intellectuals, led to the creation, for the first time in Tibetan history, of a corpus of modern secular literature. (l) Nevertheless, decades of Chinese occupation had already altered the cultural landscape of Tibet. (2) The madness of the Cultural Revolution led to the systematic destruction of cultural and religious books and objects, as well as the prohibition on teaching Tibetan culture and language in many schools. When better times came and Tibetans felt the need to express themselves through literature, some writers had to do so in Chinese because they were illiterate in their own language. For writers who were able to write in Tibetan, language proved to be a divide difficult to cross since they did not want their works associated with literature written in Chinese. This paper explores how the use of Tibetan and Chinese affected the literary choices of these writers, their sense of ethnic identity, and the perception of their ethnicity by others. THE BIRTH OF A MODERN LITERATURE IN TIBET The visit of the General Secretary of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) Hu Yaobang to Tibet in May 1980 marked the beginning of a new era of Chinese policies towards Tibet. During that visit, Hu gave a speech at a gathering of 5,000 cadres in Lhasa in which he summarized the main points of the reform he envisioned for Tibet: to promote an economic recovery; to develop Tibetan science, culture, and education; to establish the University of Tibet; and to exercise national autonomy in the region. The reform program Hu proposed gave the Tibetan people a great deal of confidence in the future of Tibet. The reformist spirit of the new Chinese government ushered in a series of regulations on religious and cultural freedom. Temples, shrines, and monasteries were rebuilt, and Tibetan classics were reprinted. The local government was given a higher degree of autonomy in dealing with religious, cultural, and educational issues. The living standard of the Tibetan people improved considerably as well, due to the liberalization of the economy and to the number of infrastructure and development projects carried out by the Chinese authorities. In 1977, the first modern literary journal of Tibet, the Chinese-language Literature and Arts from Tibet (Ch. Xizang wenyi) was published. Three years later, a Tibetan language journal under the same name (Tib.Bod kyi rtsom rig rgyud tsal) was published as well, and in 1984, to avoid the confusion of shared names, the Chinese journal was renamed Literature from Tibet (Ch. Xizang wenxue). Both the Chinese and the Tibetan language journals played a key role in the literary and cultural revitalization of Tibet. Two groups of Chinese writers and editors who arrived in Tibet after the Chinese occupation also played an active role in the birth of a modern literature in the Tibetan Autonomous Region (TAR). The first one, many of whose members were with the People's Liberation Army (PLA), arrived in Tibet right after 1959. They were sent to Tibet to write for propaganda and educational purposes (3) and were mostly of Han nationality, although there were also some Chinese-educated Tibetans from other parts of China. In the late 1970s and early 1980s, the second wave of Han educated youth arrived in Tibet. Many of them requested to be sent there because of the spirit of adventure and romanticism Tibet inspired in them. Some--such as the female writer Ma Lihua, the painter Han Shuli, and the writer Ma Yuan--would later become very famous in China for their long-lasting intellectual and emotional association with Tibet. During the 1980s, Lhasa progressively regained its former status as a cultural and religious center, attracting more artists from all over China. These "cultural pilgrims" went to Tibet and other areas with ethnic minorities in search of artistic inspiration. At a time of exhilarating intellectual exchange, writers of different ethnic and cultural backgrounds met in Tibet, exchanged ideas, and influenced one another. The homes of writers and editors, as well as Lhasa's famous tea-houses, served as forums to discuss literary works and to nurture new talents. (4) The writer rDorje tshering remembers the impact these reforms had on young Tibetan intellectuals like him: | |
When schools began teaching in Tibetan, there were no teaching
materials in the Tibetan language. Those of us who were bilingual
enthusiastically helped translating books from Chinese into Tibetan.
I even translated a math textbook for kids. We saw that Tibetan
language was finally acquiring some official recognition. When we
read the first issues of Literature from Tibet we were extremely
excited. It did not matter that it was written in Chinese; what
mattered was that Tibetan writers at last had a forum. Later on,
they began publishing [the Tibetan language journal] Literature and
Arts from Tibet. It was really unbelievable, we were thrilled. At
the time, Lhasa was the center of the [Tibetan] literary
development, and it exerted a powerful attraction on us
back in A mdo. Many people wanted to come to Lhasa and be part of
the literary movement. That is how I came here. (5)
| | A poem by Don grub rgyal, one of rDorje tshering's fellow Tibetan-language writers, eloquently expressed the enthusiasm and idealism of the generation of Tibetan intellectuals who in the 1980s undertook the process of creating a modern literature in Tibet: | |
The torrential waterfall,
the glorious young people of the Land of Snows,
This!
In the year 1980
the heartfelt power and creativity of the youth of Bo, (6)
The dignifying struggle,
the music of youthfulness,
Kyi! Kyi!
Youthful waterfall,
waterfall of youth,
Where did you obtain
the fearless heart,
immeasurable confidence,
unbending pride,
limitless strength? (7)
| | Encouraged by the official spirit of reform, and by the dedication of Tibetan and Han intellectuals alike, modern Tibetan literature flourished. THE INITIAL LACK OF TIBETAN WRITERS The rapid development of modern Tibetan literature during the 1980s seems more surprising given the fact that, at the end of the 1970s, it was almost impossible to find works written by Tibetan writers in China. In 1977, the first issues of the Chinese-language journal Literature and Arts from Tibet featured mostly works by Chinese authors residing in Tibet, since the editors were not able to find enough works by Tibetan writers to fill the pages of the newly created journal. By 1980, a few Chinese-educated Tibetan writers had already begun to write poetry and short stories in Chinese, but there was still an obvious lack of modern literary works in Tibetan. It has been noted that when the Tibetan version of the journal Literature and Arts from Tibet was published that year, none of the stories featured was originally written in the Tibetan language. (8) The stories, mostly propagandistic tales about the hardships endured by the people during Tibet's "feudal" past, had been originally written by Tibetans in Chinese, and later translated into Tibetan for the inaugural issue of the journal. (9) The shortage of Tibetan writers was due to a combination of historical and political factors. Many talented Tibetan intellectuals and highly educated members of the clergy had fled to India before the arrival of the Chinese. Some educated Tibetans remained in Tibet, joined the CCP, and received a Chinese education within Marxist-Leninist ideological parameters. In the relatively calm post-"liberation" climate, these intellectuals could have had a chance to write modern literature, but, as political repression started, many were sent to re-education camps. Tibetan culture also suffered severe damage under the Cultural Revolution campaign to eradicate the "Four Olds" (ideas, culture, morals, and customs). The few works published by minority writers during the Cultural Revolution were communist propaganda without much literary value. The pre-1959 literacy level for lay people was extremely low, and many of the schools built after 1959 were closed during the Cultural Revolution. (l0) The schools that remained open were few and far between, which made it impossible for many parents to send their children to them. Those who managed to attend school had a curriculum that, as was typically the case during the Cultural Revolution, emphasized physical work over intellectual matters. As the Tibetan poet 'Jamdbyangs shes rab remembers: | |
We grew up taking care of the cattle. My family made a huge effort
to send me to school, and they were not able to do so until I was
a teenager. At the time the Cultural Revolution was raging, so the
teachers had to teach us how to do rural work such as taking care of
the cattle. Maybe urban kids needed to learn how to do rural chores,
but we were from the countryside, for us it was a waste of time.
Most children in our school barely knew how to write. (11)
| | The changing language policies and a lack of teachers provided the few Tibetan children who attended school with a poor education. Many were not able to learn how to read well, and some were taught only in Chinese, which deprived them of a Tibetan education. For the majority of the Tibetan population, the communist promise of widespread literacy did not materialize. CREATING TIBETAN IDENTITIES The process of emphasizing the cultures of the ethnic minorities of China was initiated at the end of the Cultural Revolution. After a long period of political isolation, China was entering a new era of reforms and open-door policies. For the Chinese government it was important to show, both at home and abroad, that this new age was characterized by tolerance and ethnic diversity; but, after a decade of violently deconstructing minorities' cultures in the name of a homogenizing "modern" Communist ideology, many felt it was necessary to "construct" minorities all over again. Proving Benedict Anderson's claim that nationality is a cultural product of specific historic forces, the new winds of history in China "re-imagined" its nationalities, legitimizing new minority identities. (12) But by publicly proclaiming the rights of ethnic minorities, and promoting the official reconstruction of ethnic identities, the Chinese government was in fact legitimizing and reinforcing its own rule over them. In his Lhasa speech on 29 May 1980, Hu Yaobang acknowledged the wrongdoings of China regarding Tibet. It was the first time that a Chinese leader publicly admitted that China and the Communist Party were to be blamed for the poor situation of modern Tibet: | |
Our present situation is less than wonderful because the Tibetan
people's lives have not been much improved. There are some
improvements in some parts, but in general, Tibetans still live in
poverty. In some areas living standards have even gone down. We
comrades in the Central Committee feel that our party has let the
Tibetan people down. We feel very bad! The sole purpose of our
Communist Party is to work for the happiness of people, to do good
things for them. We have worked nearly thirty years, but the life of
the Tibetan people has not been notably improved. Are we not to
blame? (sic) (13)
| | Both Tibetans and Hans living in Tibet were touched by Hu's honesty. (14) Many Han cadres and cultural workers felt a sense of guilt for the damage inflicted upon Tibet and other minority areas. (15) The same Han cadres who had promoted the destruction of Tibetan culture, following official directives to do away with the "local chauvinisms" during the Cultural Revolution, now felt compelled to promote Tibetan culture at all costs. The new directives challenged Han editors in Tibet, who were confronted with the task of emphasizing local literature without being able to find enough Tibetan authors. They felt it was imperative to find young Tibetan role models who could inspire a whole generation of writers. Soon, Tibetans came forward to answer the literary call, first in Chinese, and progressively in Tibetan. Nevertheless, in their eagerness to find Tibetan writers, some Han editors encouraged a few half-Chinese half-Tibetan youngsters to write under Tibetan names. These youngsters had grown up in China among their Han relatives, were only literate in the Chinese language, and had always been regarded as Han. Their partial Tibetan heritage, however, granted them a place among the first generation of modern Tibetan writers. (16) In 1983, Xu Mingliang, one of these ethnically hybrid authors, wrote about his decision to explore the "mystery" of Tibetan culture in order to discover his new ethnic identity: | |
The traditional culture of my nationality, as well as its modern
literary creative techniques, seems like an immense and profoundly
mysterious forest in front of me. As a Tibetan writer I am resolute
to explore [it], to blaze new trails, [and] to know myself while I
am exploring [it]. (17)
| | Although seen as Tibetans by the Chinese, these ethnically hybrid writers were never fully accepted by the Tibetan community. Ironically, they became some of the most acclaimed "Tibetan" writers in China. ETHNIC IDENTITY AND LANGUAGE The way Tibetan writers perceive themselves, as well as the way in which they are perceived by other Tibetans, depends largely on whether they write in Tibetan or in Chinese. In this sense, what constitutes "Tibetan literature" has become a highly controversial issue, and a subject intrinsically related to Tibetan national identity and language. As a result of the Chinese occupation of Tibet, a considerable number of Han cultural workers, together with a few Tibetans educated under the Communist Party, arrived in the TAR. They were the ones who initiated the production of modern literature in Tibet, although their works were mostly written in Chinese. These works, which were soon called "literature from Tibet" (Ch. Xizang wenxue), closely resembled the following description of the first works written in the colonies of Western countries: | |
Despite their detailed reportage of landscape, custom, and language,
they inevitably privilege the center, emphasizing the 'home' over
the 'native', the 'metropolitan' over the 'provincial' or
'colonial', and so forth. At a deeper level their claim to
objectivity simply serves to hide the imperial discourse within
which they are created. (18)
| | With the revival of Tibetan culture in the late 1970s', the official promotion of Tibetan language, and the appearance of literary journals, an increasing number of Tibetan intellectuals began to write, both in Tibetan and in Chinese. Soon a controversy arose about whether the works by Tibetan authors should be grouped together with those by Han writers under the existing category of Xizang wenxue. The translation of the term Xizang wenxue, which in China is generally used to describe all works about Tibet written in Chinese, regardless the ethnicity of the writer, presents some problems. It has been often mistakenly translated as "Tibetan literature," which may lead readers to think that it is literature written only by ethnic Tibetans. (19) In order to avoid misunderstandings, I prefer to translate this term as "literature from Tibet" (or, in a broader sense, "literature produced in the Tibetan territories"), keeping in mind that it may include works by writers of different ethnic backgrounds, it also includes works in Chinese by authors who write about Tibetan culture but live in former Tibetan territories that are now outside the TAR, such as parts of Sichuan, Gansu, and Qinghai. Unfortunately, due to the lack of knowledge of Tibetan by most Chinese literary critics, these works are often presented to the Chinese readers as the only literature produced in the Tibetan territories, omitting the fact that in the last twenty years many outstanding literary works have been written in the Tibetan language. (20) It is difficult to pinpoint exactly when the debate around what constitutes "Tibetan literature" began. It has been said that this topic was first discussed in Lhasa's intellectual circle in 1980, after the publication of the first issue of the Tibetan-language journal Literature and Arts from Tibet. (21) During these early years many Tibetan-language writers strongly felt that their works should not be included in the category of Xizang wenxue with those by Han authors. In 1986, young Tibetan intellectuals had the opportunity to bring this issue to debate, along with the question of what constituted Tibetan literature, at a conference held at Lhasa's Tibetan Academy of Social Sciences. Although the topic was presented as a literary debate, hidden under literature were the ethnic concerns of Tibetan writers who wanted to reclaim a cultural scene that some felt had been stolen from them. A new terminology was needed to refer to the literature produced exclusively by ethnic Tibetans, in order to separate it from the already used, and somewhat misleading, category of Xizang wenxue. "Tibetan literature" (Tib. Bod-rigs rtsom-rigs; Ch. Zangzu wenxue) was proposed. However, deciding which authors belonged to one category or the other presented some challenges. The author's ethnicity and the language used (and so, the targeted audience) were some of the issues considered. After years of open debate, the only consensus seems to be that works about Tibet written by Tibetan authors in Tibetan language had to be considered "Tibetan literature" (Tib. Bod-rigs rtsom-rigs; Ch. Zangzu wenxue), while works about Tibet written in Chinese by Tibet-based Han authors should be considered "Literature from Tibet" (Tib. Bod-ljongs sa-khul-gyi rtsom-rig, Ch. Xizang wenxue). But how should works in Chinese written by Tibetan and Sino-Tibetan authors be considered? How should works by other ethnic minorities living in Tibet be labeled? What follows is a short synopsis of some of the most common positions in this debate, based on a series of interviews with writers, editors, and scholars I conducted in Tibet in Fall 1999. Authors with complete mastery of written Tibetan usually considered works about Tibet written in Chinese as "Literature from Tibet." They excluded such works from the category of "Tibetan literature" because, they argued, although some of those works were written by Tibetan authors, they were written in Chinese and for a Han audience. They reasoned that a work intended for Han readers had to explain Tibet in "Han" terms, that is to say, not only in a way that was aesthetically appealing to the Han sensibility, but also in a way they could easily understand or with which they could agree. That, in their opinion, deprived a work of most "Tibetan" characteristics. Other Tibetan intellectuals, however, pointed out that, instead of language, we should look at the degree of Sinicization of an author. Some claimed that it was possible for authors to maintain their Tibetanness, even if they wrote in other languages. Yet others noted that many young Tibetan writers who wrote in Chinese had been too influenced by Chinese culture and, as such, their works could not be considered "really" Tibetan. The Tibetanness of a writer was often measured by how well an author spoke Tibetan, or whether they had a "Tibetan life style." Contrary to the opinion of Tibetan-language writers, Tibetan writers who wrote in Chinese said their works should be regarded as "Tibetan literature." These writers claimed that language should not be given as much importance, as it was only a means to convey a message. What really mattered was the content of their works, which, they argued, truly reflected the "Tibetan mind." It is interesting to note that most of these writers commented in strikingly similar terms, and several of them even mentioned the name of the Indian writer Rabindranath Tagore. They had chosen Tagore as an example because he lived under a British-occupied India and sometimes wrote in the language of the colonizer; by referring to the Indian writer, these Chinese-language Tibetan writers were indirectly addressing the colonial situation of Tibet. It was a way to assert that, like Tagore, they could also maintain their identity and dignity, even while writing in the language of the oppressor. Moreover, the fact that several writers mentioned Tagore's name during the course of one-on-one interviews seems to suggest that this topic had been debated previously among them. (22) The official Chinese response to this debate emphasizes that, since Tibet is part of China, and the 56 acknowledged ethnicities of China are "siblings," there is no need to separate the works about Tibet produced by Tibetans from those produced by Han, or by other ethnic minorities who live in Tibetan areas (i.e., Hui, Yi, etc). The following explanation about what constitutes "literature from Tibet," by the scholar Zhang Zhiwei, reflects the official view quite well: | |
[It] consists of three aspects: First, the literary works of
Tibetan writers produced in Tibetan language; second, the literary
works of Tibetan writers produced in Chinese language; third, the
literary works of Han and other minority writers that came to Tibet
from other parts of China. (23)
| | Nevertheless, this view is not accepted by all Han scholars. Professor Geng Yufang, for instance, defends the concept of "Tibetan literature" (Ch. Zangzu wenxue), which for him is primarily composed of first, the works of Tibetan writers who write in Tibetan and second, the works by Tibetan writers who write in Chinese. He argues that the ideal situation would be that Tibetan literature was written only in the Tibetan language, but he affirms that it is still possible to see the traces of Tibetan culture and way of thought in the works of Tibetan writers who write in Chinese. (24) Despite the heated intellectual exchange occasioned by the Lhasa conference in 1986, its participants were not able to reach a working definition for "Tibetan literature." Although several articles have been written on this issue since then, both in Tibetan and in Chinese, the question still seems to be undecided. By 1995, during a Tibetan writers' conference in Xining (Qinghai), the writers decided not to debate the issue publicly any longer. (25) One can easily guess the reasons for this agreement. On the one hand, since the debate on what constituted Tibetan literature was so deeply rooted in ethnic and political issues, it was susceptible to becoming the target of official attacks, especially during the 1990s, when the Chinese authorities strengthened their repression of Tibetan intellectuals following the pro-independence riots of the late 1980s. On the other hand, this debate fostered a certain degree of resentment between Tibetan writers who wrote in Tibetan and those who wrote in Chinese. Although Tibetan writers are no longer as eager to debate this issue as they were twenty years ago, the echoes of the conference still resound among Tibetan intellectuals, both in China and in exile, as opinions continue to be radically divided. (26) Many other writers from the post-colonial world seem to share similar concerns to the ones that fueled the debate over Tibetan literature. The Kenyan author Ngugi wa Thiong'o recalls participating in a literary debate in 1962, in Uganda, where strikingly similar issues to those debated in Lhasa were also addressed: | |
What is African literature? [...] The debate which followed was
animated: Was it literature about Africa or about the African
experience? Was it literature written by Africans? What about a
non-African who wrote about Africa: did his work qualify as African
literature? What if an African set his work in Greenland: did that
qualify as African literature? Or were African languages the
criteria? (27)
| | The opinions of African writers in this regard seem to be as divided as those of writers in Tibet. The African literary debate referred to by Ngugi wa Thiong'o did not contribute to the solution of the dilemma either. (28) In the still-colonial landscape of modern Tibet, as well as in other parts of the post-colonial world, there is a pacific but tense coexistence between the literature produced in the native language and that written in the language of the colonizer. Native authors who write in the language of the colonial powers endure endless questioning by others, and feel a pressing need for self-justification. REASONS BEHIND THE USE OF THE CHINESE LANGUAGE Tibetan authors who write in Chinese often feel their Tibetan identity is compromised. A female Tibetan writer described it in these words: "Those of us who do not use our native language to write, in the bottom of our hearts feel a certain sense of embarrassment." (29) This feeling is worsened by their awareness that many Tibetans, as well as Western sympathizers with the Tibetan cause, criticize them for writing in this language. The majority of these writers felt that they had to write in Chinese because it was the only language in which they were literate, blaming the Chinese government and its changes in language policies for their illiteracy in Tibetan. Some younger Tibetan authors who grew up during the 1980s, when learning Tibetan at school was possible again, were deprived of that opportunity by their own families. Parents sent their children to study in Chinese cities since they believed that acquiring a Chinese education would help their children compete better with Han people in the job market. Whatever their reason for not learning Tibetan, most of these writers expressed deep regret for not being able to write in their native language. A more controversial explanation is that expressed by the half-Han half-Tibetan writer Tashi Dawa, whose stories about Tibet enjoyed great popularity during the 1980s and early 1990s. (30) Tashi Dawa, who is illiterate in Tibetan, argues that the Tibetan language is not adequate for modern literary creation: | |
In Tibet few people are literate in the Tibetan language; a great
part of the population is still not able to read any language.
However, those who are literate in Tibetan also know Chinese. If you
write in Chinese, they will be able to read your works, and Han
people will be able to read your works as well. On the other hand,
Tibetan language is very rich in terminology about religion and
spirituality, but it lacks the necessary words to describe many
phenomena of the modern world. (31)
| | In the course of my interviews, only one other Tibetan writer, Ye shes bstan'dzin, adduced that Tibetan language was not conducive to the writing of modern literature. When I asked him to elaborate on this idea, he also pointed out that the Tibetan vocabulary was very limited. (32) The fact that in both cases the writers themselves brought the topic of writing in Chinese to the interview is just another indication of their pressing need to justify not writing in Tibetan. Contrary to the opinions of Tashi Dawa and Ye shes bstan'dzin, most Tibetan intellectuals I interviewed disagreed with the idea that Tibetan language was not suited to the writing of modern literature. When asked about the versatility of this language to write modern literature, Phun tshogs bkrashis, one of the most popular Tibetan-language writers, bluntly argued: | |
I believe those who say so do not have a good knowledge of the
Tibetan language. If you know Tibetan well, you can write all
kinds of literature and describe all kinds of things. (33)
| | In his opinion, Tibetan language has been evolved, as have other languages, by creating or borrowing terminology in order to face the needs of the times. (34) In a similar line of argument, the London-based Tibetan scholar Tsering Shakya affirms that the creation of new words is an easy process in Tibetan language, and a common practice that has been often done through history: | |
The method of forming or translating a new word by combining
existing morphemes represents nothing new in Tibetan; indeed,
numerous combinations can be made to coin new words or translate
new concepts. This system provides flexibility and has been used
by Tibetans in the past to translate new terms and concepts. (35)
| | Tashi Dawa's statement touches on another sensitive issue: by writing in Chinese, Tibetan authors can reach more readers, and acquire more fame and wealth. It seems to be true that the most famous Tibetan writers in China are those who write in Chinese, while those who write in Tibetan are often unknown by Chinese critics and readers. Chinese-language Tibetan writers are usually able to publish their works more easily than their counterparts who write in Tibetan for two principal reasons: First, there are more Chinese language publishing houses and journals, and second, books in Chinese about the "exotic" Tibet have been relatively popular among Chinese educated readers since the 1980s. Publishing for Tibetan-language writers is not that easy: with fewer publishing houses to choose from and a smaller readership, sometimes they are forced to subsidize their own publications. In these cases the number of books printed is usually very small and the writer has to help distribute the book. Despite these economic advantages, not a single Chinese-language Tibetan writer mentioned fame or wealth as a factor in choosing Chinese over Tibetan. It could be argued that most Tibetan writers would not like to admit that they had privileged the language of the colonial power over their native language in order to be successful. Nevertheless, my research confirmed that, in most cases, the reason for not writing in Tibetan was the lack of proficiency in the language. Some of these authors are completely illiterate in Tibetan, while others are able to read and write simple sentences, but not well enough to write creatively. Although there are some practical considerations that seem to discourage the use of Tibetan language for literary creation, I found that the majority of Tibetan authors who are able to write in Tibetan prefer to do so. These authors stated that they are more comfortable writing in their own language, feel great pride for doing so, and enjoy more popularity within the Tibetan community. WRITING UNDER AN ETHNIC MINORITY STATUS Holding an ethnic minority status has certain advantages for writers in China. Since the 1980s there has been an increasing Han interest in the exotic "other" represented by the national minorities. This has encouraged the development of a whole "ethnic" industry: domestic tourism to areas such as Yunnan and Tibet, arts and crafts, documentaries, films, magazine articles, calendars portraying ethnic dances, and so forth. Many educated readers in China look not only for books whose titles or covers evoke the culture of minorities, but also for works produced by writers with foreign-sounding minority names. In the minds of Han readers and critics, a writer's minority name ensures the authenticity of his or her works in a way that a Han name may not be able to do. Even some Han artists have benefited enormously from their adoption of ethnic names. (36) An ethnic minority identity seems to grant Tibetan writers a higher degree of freedom when writing about their own people, providing, of course, they do not write about politics. In the past, the Tibetan intellectual community inside China has protested vigorously against allegedly disrespectful works about Tibet written by Han people. The most poignant case was that of the Han writer Ma Jian, whose novel "Stick Out the Fur of Your Tongue or You'll Have Nothing" (Liangchu ni de shetai huo kongkong dandan) stirred one of the biggest scandals in modern Chinese literature. The novel, a series of stories based on Ma Jian's impressions during a visit to Tibet, was published in 1987. Its graphic depictions of a religious sexual encounter and a sky burial, together with a generally misinformed and irreverent tone, infuriated Tibetan intellectuals. In order to avoid the escalation of the affair into violent ethnic riots inside Tibet, several official Chinese publications rushed to criticize the novel. The "Ma Jian affair" ended in the banning of his works and the author's self-exile in Hong Kong. (37) However, daring works about Tibet by Tibetans are rarely criticized. For example, in Ale's The Dust Settles (Chen'ai luo ding), corruption, violence, and sex intermingle in a Tibetan society that is far from ideal. Tashi Dawa goes even further by addressing the sensitive topic of homosexuality among Tibetan monks in his unfinished novel Those Fallen from the Mast (Weigan dingshang de zhuiluo zhe). (38) Despite the advantages an ethnic minority identity may confer, it also has obvious drawbacks. The lack of thematic freedom is one of them. In China, it is an unspoken rule that minorities write exclusively about their own ethnic group, so much so that most authors I interviewed could not even conceive of writing about anything else. This is partly due to the need to satisfy the Han majority's taste for the exotic. The extent to which Han stereotypes of ethnic minorities influence ethnic minorities' own views about themselves is beyond the scope of this paper. Suffice to say, many works in Chinese written by Tibetan and Sino-Tibetan writers often repeat common Han stereotypes about Tibet: the sensual and erotic characteristics of their Tibetan female protagonists, the bravery and sex drive of their Tibetan male protagonists, and the image of a magical, wild, or mystical Tibet. (39) This does not imply that all works by minority writers portray Tibet in Han terms, or that they consciously insert Han stereotypes to suit the Chinese public. After decades of contact with a Hart majority, and of control of the media and education by the Chinese government, some of these stereotypes may have entered the subconscious of the ethnic minorities themselves. (40) When asked about the disadvantages of writing under a Tibetan identity, a few Tibetan writers complained about patronizing Han attitudes. Apparently, it is not uncommon for a Tibetan writer to receive unsolicited advice from Han authors, editors, and critics. Although often prompted by the good intentions of the advice-givers, these acts place Tibetan writers in an unfair position of inferiority in relation to their Han counterparts. One frequent complaint from writers in Tibet is the need to comply with certain political requirements. Professional writers working for the Chinese Writers' Association, or its local branches, are obliged to undertake administrative and leadership roles in their work-units. These duties often include the organization of political events to commemorate certain dates, to discuss directives issued by the government, or to "study" works of Chinese political leaders. Due to the volatile political situation of Tibet, these events are more frequent and have more prominence than in Han areas. Through the compulsory participation of Tibetan writers in indoctrination campaigns, the Chinese government aims to influence the message these intellectuals convey to the Tibetan people. This often translates into long hours of "study" meetings and other bureaucratic assignments--precious time writers would rather spend writing. This problem has been even more severe since the repression of the pro-independence riot of 1989. Since then, the Chinese government has strengthened its control over Tibetan intellectuals and Tibetan publications. Even more political requirements were imposed by the Chinese authorities on Tibetan writers following official political campaigns in Tibet, such as the 1997 celebration of the return of Hong Kong to China, and the 1999 50th anniversary of the foundation of the People's Republic of China (PRC). An example of this was an essay book by Han and Tibetan writers in Tibet, that was based on a walking tour around Tibetan areas. This was supposed to serve as a way to praise the "progresses" of the Tibetan people since the "liberation" of Tibet. The promotion of the event in an English-language journal conveyed to the world the Tibetan writers' willingness to participate in the communist celebration: | |
A group of Chinese writers and the Tibetan novelist Tashi Dawa are
marking the anniversary by undertaking a journey on foot to Lhasa
along roads built by the Chinese since the 1950s. The writers, who
aim to complete the walk by the end of October [1999], will be
publishing a book about their experiences en route along roads into
the Tibet Autonomous Region from Nepal, Xinjiang, Sichuan and
Qinghai. (41)
| | The fact that I was interviewing most of these writers in Lhasa in the fall of 1999 proves that not many of them took part in the actual event. Some told me they were able to use other official engagements as an excuse to slip away. Nevertheless, all of them were required to contribute an essay that would convey the impression that they had actually participated in the march around Tibet. In order to avoid these impositions, patronizing ethnic attitudes, and the feeling that their works were published only because of their minority backgrounds, a few writers have refused to use their "ethnic" names, even if it implies losing their minority appeal. This is the case of Feng Liang, half Yi and half Han, but commonly acknowledged as belonging to the Yi minority. (42) For some years, while she was working in Tibet, she wrote under the name Jihu Shini, which denoted her minority background. However, she later began using her Han name, Feng Liang. As she explains: | |
I prefer not to use my minority name because I do not want them
[the editors] to treat me as inferior or as deserving some kind of
special attention because of my ethnicity. I want to compete with
other writers at the same level so as to know I am succeeding
because of myself. (43)
| | Nevertheless, claiming the status of "writer," versus that of "ethnic writer," is not always easy. Publishing houses and journal editors, aware of the attraction that ethnic names and book titles have on Chinese readers, often require ethnic signifiers in order to approve a publication. When Feng Liang presented the draft of her novel The Scent of Saffron (Zanghonghua xiang) to a prestigious publishing house, the editor required a change in the title: it had to include the word "Tibet." The title was finally changed to A Tale from Tibet (Xizang Wuyu). (44) It is not a coincidence that Tashi Dawa's most famous stories are also the ones that carry "Tibet" in their titles. (45) CONCLUSION Fifty years of Chinese colonial presence in Tibet has created a contradictory literary landscape. Tibetan-language writers and Chinese-language writers, as well as ethnically hybrid authors and Han intellectuals, have coexisted in traditionally Tibetan areas for several decades amidst changing political winds. The repression of the Cultural Revolution gave way to nearly a decade of relative freedom and cultural revival during the late 1970s and early 1980s. This was the time of the creation of a modern secular literature in Tibet, a time of hope in Tibet's future, and a time of ethnic collaboration. The same zeal that guided the Chinese Communist Party through the destruction of minority cultures during the Cultural Revolution was now applied to their reconstruction. The ethnic map of China was, once again, reorganized. New minority groups gained recognition, and new minority identities were created, although sometimes rather arbitrarily. The tightening of Chinese control over Tibet at the end of the 1980s put an end to the previous decade of tolerance. The beginning of an active campaign of international lobbying on the part of the exiled Tibetan government encouraged demonstrations against the Chinese government inside Tibet. In 1989, the Chinese government declared martial law in Lhasa, after several popular uprisings escalated into a major one. This led to a more repressive stance in the 1990s, and to orchestrated campaigns that reinforced Chinese claims of sovereignty over Tibet. To make things worse, recent waves of Han migration and unregulated city growth are depriving Lhasa of much of its former cultural charm, which provided so much literary inspiration to Tibetan writers. In an uncertain ethnic and political climate, Tibetan authors struggle to engage in literature, comply with official requirements, and stick to their ethnic identities. Although in modern Tibet all Tibetan writers have to cope with political and ethnic pressures, those Tibetans who write in Chinese often have the added burden of having to deal with their own identity turmoil. Accused of being less Tibetan than those who write in their native language, they always find themselves trying to prove their authenticity. But, as Frantz Fanon reminds us, by using the language of the colonial power, the authenticity of their message may be compromised: | |
At the very moment when the native intellectual is anxiously trying
to create a cultural work he fails to realize that he is utilizing
techniques and language which are borrowed from the stranger in his
country. He contents himself with stamping these instruments with a
hallmark which he wishes to be national, but which is strangely
reminiscent of exoticism. The native intellectual who comes back to
his people by way of cultural achievements behaves in fact like
a foreigner. (46)
| | Sinophone Tibetan writers have now lived their entire lives under the shadow of the colonial power--trying to recover their traditional Tibetan roots, while enjoying the modernity brought by the colonizer; defending their works as Tibetan, while enjoying their popularity among the Chinese. These authors are constantly trying to make sense of their own contradictions, as well as those of modern Tibet. As for modern Tibetan literature, has it suffered from this lack of "authenticity," or has it been enriched by the mix of native and imported creative sources? The Tibetan-language authors interviewed were very proud of writing in Tibetan, but many of them felt happy about being literate in the Chinese language as well. One of the authors affirmed that he was very grateful to the Chinese, for giving him access to world literature and literary theory through the many translations of key foreign works into Chinese. (47) The fact that Tibetan literature inside China has been far more prolific and creative than the literature produced by Tibetan writers in exile seems to suggest that modern Tibetan literature has benefited from its contact with Chinese culture. (48) The future of Tibetan literature inside the PRC will greatly depend on Chinese policies toward Tibetan culture and language. Because of the economic incentives of acquiring a Chinese education, many educated Tibetans are sending their children to study in Chinese cities. This new generation of Tibetan youth will surely have more means to compete with Han people when searching for jobs, but likely at the expense of not acquiring literacy in the Tibetan language and, maybe, even at the expense of feeling they have lost their Tibetanness. (1) Most texts from premodern Tibet focused mainly on religious issues. Despite the existence of one secular text written during the 18th century, and a couple of works written during the first half of the 20th century, many scholars argue that modern Tibetan literature did not start until the early 1980s. For more on this see Tsering Shakya, "The Waterfall and Fragrant Flowers: The Development of Tibetan Literature Since 1950," Song of the Snow Lion, special issue of Manoa 12, no. 2 (Winter 2000): 28-29. (2) In this study "Tibet" refers to the territory nowadays known as the Tibetan Autonomous Region (TAR). Besides TAR, there are other centers of Tibetan literary activity in China, in areas inhabited by Tibetan population. There are approximately 5.5 million ethnic Tibetans who reside in the TAR and in other Tibetan territories that are now part of the Chinese provinces of Qinghai, Sichuan, Gansu, and Yunnan (these areas are also known by their Tibetan denominations, i.e. A mdo, Kham). Some scholars refer to the TAR, which in the past was ruled by the Dalai Lama, as "political Tibet," and to other areas in China inhabited by Tibetans, such as A mdo or Kham, as "ethnographic Tibet" because they are inhabited by a majority of Tibetan people but historically were not always under the rule of the Dalai Lama. For more on this issue see Hugh Richardson, Tibet and its History (Boulder: Shambala, 1984), 1-2; and Melvyn C. Goldstein and Matthew T. Kapstein, eds., Buddhism in Contemporary Tibet: Religious Revival and Cultural Identity (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1998), 4. For an explanation of what constitutes Tibet that does not use the categories of "political Tibet" and "ethnographic Tibet" see R. A. Stein, Tibetan Civilization, J. E. Stapleton Driver, trans. (Palo Alto: Stanford University Press, 1972), 19-21. (3) Many representative works by army writers in Tibet can be found in the following issues of the journal Xizang wenxue: Xizang wenxue 45 (1984); Xizang wenxue 105 (1989); Xizang wenxue, 116 (1991); Xizang wenxue 129 (1993). (4) Personal interview with Tashi Dawa (Lhasa: 21 October 1999) and Ma Yuan (Chengdu: 5 November 1999). All interviews cited in this paper were conducted in Mandarin. (5) Personal interview with rDorje tshering (Lhasa: 10 October 1999). (6) "Bo" means "Tibet." (7) Excerpt from Don grub rgyal's poem "Waterfall of Youth," Tsering Shakya, trans., Song of the Snow Lion, 9-13. (8) Tsering Shakya, "The Waterfall and Fragant Flowers," 31. (9) Ibid. (10) One of the best sources for the topic of education in Tibet from 1949 to 1978 is Catriona Bass, Education in Tibet: Policy and Practice since 1950, (London: Tibet Information Network, 1998), 26-46. For a personal account of the lack of freedom and educational materials in one of the institutions that remained opened during the Cultural Revolution see Pema Bhum, "Mao's Cuckoo," Lauran Hartley, trans., Index on Censorship 1 (2001): 176-181. (11) Personal interview with 'Jamdbyangs shes rab (Lhasa: 26 October 1999). (12) Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities, (London: Verso, 1991), 4. (13) Yao Wang, "Hu Yaobang's Visit to Tibet, May 22-31 1980," Robert Barnett and Shirin Akiner, eds., Resistance and Reform in Tibet (Bloomington and Indianapolis: Indiana University Press, 1994), 287-288. (14) Ibid. A similar statement was made by the Tibetan writer Tonga during a personal interview (Lhasa: 2 November 1999). I have chosen this romanization of his Tibetan name because this is the transcription used by Tonga himself. (15) Personal interview with Tonga (Lhasa: 2 November. 1999). (16) Personal interview with former literary critic Zhou Shaoxi (Lhasa: 27 October 1999). According to Zhou Shaoxi, his father, Zhou Yanyang, was the editor who in 1979 advised some of these writers to start writing under Tibetan names. (17) Sebo, "Chuan xiang yuanfang" (Shouting Far Away), Xizang Wenyi 5 (1983): 24. (18) Bill Ashcroft, Gareth Griffiths, and Helen Tiffin, The Empire Writes Back: Theory and Practice in Post-colonial Literatures (London: Routledge, 1989), 5. (19) Chinese publications tend to translate Xizang wenxue as "Tibetan literature." One example is Ma Lihua's influential book Xueyu wenhua yu Xizang wenxue (Changsha, PRC: Hunan Jiaoyu chubanshe, 1998), which deals with literature written in Chinese by Tibetans and Hans living in Tibet, but translates its title into English as Snowland Culture and Tibetan Literature. The translation of the title was done by the publishing house and not by Ma Lihua herself. (Personal interview with Ma Lihua, Lhasa: 2 November 1999). (20) For a discussion on specific works that omit to inform Chinese reader of the existence of Tibetan literature in Tibetan language see Lara Maconi, "One Nation, Two Discourses: Tibetan New-era Literature in the Diglossic Context of China's Tibet. The Language Debate," in the forthcoming volume Lauran Hartley and Patricia Schiaffini, eds., Selected Essays in Modern Tibetan Literature (Leiden, Netherlands: Brill, forthcoming). (21) Tsering Shakya, "The Waterfall and Fragant Flowers," 31. (22) The Chinese-medium Tibetan writers who mentioned Tagore as an example of a writer who had also written in the language of the colonizer, did not address the fact that the Indian writer wrote primarily in Bengali, his native language. For a study on Tagore's influence in China see Stephen Hay, Asian Ideas of East and West: Tagore and His Critics in Japan, China and India (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1970). (23) Zhang Zhiwei, "Brief Discussion of the Development of the Literature from Tibet" (Luelun dangdai Xizang wenxue de fazhan), Xizang wenxue 145 (1996): 121. (24) Geng Yufang, "General Outline of the Development of Modern Tibetan Literature (Zangzu dangdai wenxue fazhan gaishu), Anduo yanqiu 1 (1993): 26. (25) Lauran Hartley, "Ventures in Polishing the Mirror of Tibetan Literary Theory (1980-2000)," Selected Essays in Modern Tibetan Literature. (26) This debate, which started among Tibetan intellectuals inside China, has also become a controversial topic among Tibetan intellectuals in the exile due to its political and ethnic implications. Bhuchung K. Tsering, "Let's talk literature!" Tibetan Review, Nov. 1998, 21 explains the main views on the debate to a readership of exiled Tibetans. (27) Ngugi wa Thiong'o, Decolonising the Mind: The Politics of Language in African Literature (London: James Currey, 1986), 6. (28) The Nigerian writer Chinua Achebe recalls that the debate on what constituted African literature ended without agreement: "[T]here was something which we tried to do and failed--that was to define 'African literature' satisfactorily.... In the end we gave up trying to find an answer...." Later on, another conference on African literature found a definition: "Creative writing in which an African setting is authentically handled or to which experiences originating in Africa are integral." It seems that this was accepted by many only because of its generic nature, and because of the fact that it did not touch upon the pressing issues of language and ethnicity. For more on this see: Chinua Achebe, Morning Yet On Creation Day (New York: Anchor Books, 1976), 74-75. (29) E-mail from 'Odzer (31 March 2001, 00:51:26). Original in Chinese. (30) I chose this romanization of Tashi Dawa's name because it is how the author is generally known among Western scholars. (31) Personal interview with Tashi Dawa (Lhasa: 21 October 1999). (32) Personal interview with Ye shes bstan'dzin (Lhasa: 1 November. 1999). (33) Personal interview with Phun tshogs bkrashis (Lhasa: 27 October 1999). (34) More information on different stages in the process of transformation of the Tibetan language can be found in Heather Stoddard, "Tibetan Publications and National Identity," and Tsering Shakya, "Politicisation and the Tibetan Language," both in Robert Barnett and Shirin Akiner, eds., Resistance and Reform in Tibet, 121-165. For more on the issue of standardization of the Tibetan language see Lauran Hartley, "The Role of Regional Factors in the Standardization of Spoken Tibetan," Tibet Journal 21, no. 4 (1996): 31-57. (35) Tsering Shakya, "Politicisation and the Tibetan Language," 161. The issue of the suitability of Tibetan language for literary expression has resurfaced recently due to the news of the death of a Tibetan intellectual who always praised the versatility of Tibetan language. The Tibet Information Network recently published information about the death of the poet, scholar, and monk Jigme Thegchog, whose influential poem "A Thunder of Heartfelt Praise for Tibetan Script and Language" defends "the view that the Tibetan language has the vocabulary and flexibility to convey profound meanings in clear terms and to represent and express a range of musical expressions including drama, theatre, opera and psalms. Jigme Thegchog writes that the most delicate of feelings can be expressed through the Tibetan language in poetry, and that the language is also precise enough to convey complex scientific concepts." For more on his life and works see Tibet Information Network, "Poetry and Prose by Jigme Thegchog," 16 April 2002, at http://www.tibetinfo.net/publications/docs/jigme-thegchog.htm, and "Death of a Poet and Scholar: Obituary of Jigme Thegchog," 16 April 2002, at http://www.tibetinfo.net. (36) Since the mid-1990s, the Cantonese female singer Zhu Zheqin, who adopted the Tibetan-sounding name Dadawa, has mesmerized Chinese audiences with her Tibet-inspired songs, her pictures wearing nun-like robes, and her loosely religious lyrics. Referred to as the "Asian Enya," her Tibetan themes and images have even granted her albums international releases, something uncommon for Chinese pop artists. The use of a Tibetan name and her references to Tibetan Buddhism have infuriated many Tibetans in exile, who accuse her (and Warner Music) of appropriating Tibetan culture, and capitalizing on the appeal of Tibet, while accepting the Chinese occupation of that land. For more on the reaction toward Dadawa by Tibetans in exile see: World Tibet Network News, "Dadawa's 'Sister Drum' CD Causes International Outrage Amongst Tibetans," 27 February 1996, at http://www.tibet.ca/wtnarchive/1996/2/27_html. (37) Barme and Minford translate the title more freely as "Stick Out Your Furry Tongue, or Fuck-all." For a translation of the most controversial pages of Ma Jian's story see Geremie Barme and John Minford, Seeds of Fire: Chinese Voices of Conscience (New York: Hill and Wang, 1988), 439-447. For an example of an official condemnation of the story see Zhongguo zuojia xiehui Xizang fenhui (Tibetan branch of the Association of Chinese Writers), "A Poor Novel that Slanders and Humiliates the Tibetan People" (Yipian chouhua, wuru zangzu renmin de liezuo), Literary Gazette (Wenyi bao) (28 March 1987): 2-3. (38) Tashi Dawa, "Those Fallen from The Mast" (Weigan dingshang de zhuiluo zhe), Xizang wenxue 131 (1994): 4-25. See A Lai, Chen 'ai luo ding (The Dust Settles), (Beijing: Renmin wenxue chubanshe, 1998). For an English translation see Alai, Red Poppies, Howard Goldblatt and Sylvia Li-chun Lin, trans. (Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 2002). (39) Tashi Dawa's "The Old Manor" (Guzhai) is a classic example of the erotic representation of Tibetan women and the depiction of Tibetan males as wild and sex-driven. The story narrates the adventures of the male protagonist, whose incessant virility, together with the astonishing fertility of his female partners, results in more than two hundred offsprings. One of the favorite pastimes of the female protagonist, a former Tibetan aristocrat, is to sexually provoke a male servant without allowing him to touch her. Tashi Dawa, Xizang, yinmi suiyue (Wuhan: Changjiang wenyi chubanshe, 1993), 138-151. In similar terms, Ale's The Dust Settles tells the story of a local Tibetan warlord whose life is driven by two dominant passions: the unrestrained pursuit of sexual pleasure and the violent fight for power with other local chieftains. (40) In this regard, we should also consider the possibility that only the few works by minority writers and artists that portray minorities in close-to-Han terms are the ones that finally make it to mainstream publications and exhibitions in China. This could convey the false image that all works produced by minority writers and artists agree with the Han stereotypes about ethnic minorities. (41) Tibetan Information Network, "Authorities Fear Dissent as Tibetans Told They Must Participate in Anniversary Celebration," 29 September 1999, at http://www.tibetinfo.net/newsupdates/ nu290999.htm. The book is Walking into Tibet, (Zoujin Xizang) (Kunming, PRC: Yunnan renmin chubanshe, 2000) (42) The Yi minority lives principally in parts of Sichuan, Yunnan, Guizhou, and Guangxi. Some Yi communities live close to Tibetan communities in Sichuan province. (43) Personal interview with Feng Liang (Beijing: 22 November 1999). (44) Feng Liang, Xizang Wuyu (Beijing: Zuojia chubanshe, 1998). Personal Interview with Feng Liang (Beijing: 22 November 1999). (45) "Tibet: The Soul Tied to the Knots of a Leather Rope" (Xizang, ji zai pisheng jieshang de hun) and "Tibet: The Mysterious Years" (Xizang: Yinmi suiyue) are Tashi Dawa's most widely read, awarded, and translated stories, and two anthologies of his short stories have been named after them. (46) Frantz Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth (New York: Grove Press, 1963), 223. (47) Personal interview with rDorje tshering (Lhasa: 10 October 1999). (48) In this regard see Mathew Kapstein, "The Indian Literary Identity in Tibet," Sheldon Pollock, ed., Literary Cultures in History (Berkeley: University of California Press, 2003). |
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