The Pure Crystal Mountain Pilgrimage of Tsari

China Tibet Online recently promoted the region of Tsari in Southern Tibet. 
It thus praised the area: "Dzari (Tsari) Township, 2,800 meters above the sea level, is located in Luntse County of Lhoka Prefecture, southwest China’s Tibet Autonomous Region. Dzari means the holy mountain in Tibetan language. Hailed as the Tibet’s Shambhala, Dzari Township boasts its lush vegetation, moderate weather, still lake, running brook, vast forest, holy mountains as well as a satisfactory variety of herbs."
But Tsari has been more than just this.
It was once one of the most sacred pilgrimages in Tibet.
One of the characteristics of this pilgrimage was that it was running across the Indo-Tibet border (the McMahon Line). Half was in Tibet, half was in NEFA (India).
I always thought that it would be a great Confidence Building Measure, if India and China could agree to jointly organize the pilgrimage again one day.
But reading the reports of Deng Xiaogang's tour in Western Tibet, it is clear that China is too nervous to envisage such a bold step today.
I post here extracts of my book, 1962: The McMahon Line Saga on the Tsari pilgrimage.

The Pure Crystal Mountain Pilgrimage of Tsari
Tsari has always been synonymous of ‘sacred place’ in the Tibetan psyche. With the Mount Kailash and the Amye Machen in eastern Tibet, the pilgrimage around the Dakpa Sheri, the Pure Crystal Mountain has, since centuries, been one of the holiest of the Roof of the World.
The ‘Pure Crystal Mountain’ lies at 5,735 meter above the sea in the Tsari district of southeastern Tibet. As already mentioned, Toni Huber  is one of the foremost scholars who wrote a great deal about this region from which the Subansiri  and the Tsari Chu flow: “The area of the two rivers into which Tsarong  ventured for military and commercial reasons had for centuries defined a very significant territory for both Tibetans and neighbouring non-Tibetans ”. Huber describes thus the region:

[these] rivers encompassed the southern slopes of the famous Tibetan holy mountain of Dakpa Shelri at Tsari. The large-scale, 12-yearly circumambulation of Tibetan Buddhist pilgrims around the mountain known as the Rongkor Chenmo, had the character of a state ritual for the Ganden Phodrang [Tibetan Government]. Pilgrims in this huge procession crossed the McMahon Line below the frontier village of Migyitün in Tsari district and followed the Tsari Chu southwards. They then turned back up the Subansiri westwards, crossing the McMahon Line once again to reach the first Tibetan frontier settlements in Chame district. In doing so, they traversed non-Tibetan lands during this entire southern leg of the procession. This was the territory of the Mra (Tibetan: Morang Loba) clan, which ran downstream along the Tsari Chu valley and around its junction with the Subansiri at Geling Sinyik, and also of the neighbouring Na (Tibetan: Khalo, Lungtu Lopa) community of Taksing, which extended upstream along the Subansiri heading westwards towards Tibet.

An elaborate system of ‘compensations’ or ‘taxes’ depending from which side one made the pilgrimage was put in place:

Payments in kind were regularly made to both the Mra and Na by the Ganden Phodrang in recognition of the periodic passage of tens of thousands of pilgrims via their territories, and also so that their assistance could be gained in helping the procession proceed smoothly. The Lodzong, a ritualized tribute payment of various Tibetan goods, was made immediately prior to each Rongkor Chenmo. Shares of the Lodzong were given to the Na and Mra, but also to members of other clan-based groups collectively called Tinglo or Tingba by Tibetans. These latter groups lived lower down the Subansiri River and in the upper Kamla River area, and they regularly threatened to disrupt the pilgrimage unless they received a customary amount of Tibetan goods.

Click to enlarge

Our interest in the long pilgrimage, the Rongkor Chenmo, is mainly because its route crosses over to India, south of the McMahon Line. 
As described by Huber the sacred journey involved crossing south to the McMahon Line towards the junction of the Subansiri-Tsari, and a return back north across the line. Already in the early 20th century , tens of thousands of pilgrims are said to have performed the Rongkor.

The junction of the Chayul-Chu with the Subansiri-Tsari is about twenty miles south of the McMahon Line as the crow flies.
Bailey and Morshead visited the place in 1913 during their journey in Southern Tibet. Bailey recalls:

As far as I could gather from the minor official who called on us, [Chikchar] was a pilgrim economy, being the main centre for the circuit of the holy mountain. The great pilgrimage took place every twelve years, in the Monkey Year. 100,000 pilgrims  usually made the pilgrimage, many of them coming from Pome. The Pobas [Tibetans] sent a hundred soldiers; fifty were sent from Trasum in Kongbo and thirty from the frontier village of Tron on the Chayul river. These were to protect the pilgrims from attack by the Lopa tribe of Daflas, through whose territory the pilgrims had to travel when making the Great Pilgrimage.

The young Captain continues:

The pilgrims went down the Tsari river, past Migyitün which apparently was recognised as the frontier of Tibet-to where the Tsari river joined the combined waters of the Char, Nye and Chayul.

It is interesting to note that in the early 20th century, Migyitün was already considered to be the border with Tibet. The McMahon Line, drawn a few months later (under the supervision of Capt. Bailey), only acknowledged this fact. Bailey further explains:

This was five or six days' journey. Then they turned up the combined rivers, towards Sanga Choling, which they reached about a fortnight later. Some pilgrims went very much slower, the minor official said; and I inferred there was merit in delay. The slower, the better.
I asked how the pilgrims managed on the route, especially when they were going through Lopa country. Apparently all along the route were places called Tsukangs where one man lived and supplied the pilgrims with fuel and hot water, but not with food. Food the pilgrims had to carry with them, but at Migyitün and elsewhere people came to sell food to the pilgrims at extortionate prices.

Similar descriptions were made by other travellers. Here again, there is a clear distinction between the Tibetans and the Lopas. As Bailey put it:
The Lopas were not allowed to travel up the Tsari valley beyond the frontier village of Migyitün because the Tibetans feared they would damage their shrines. They were induced to give the pilgrims unmolested passage through their own country by the Tibetan government lavishing on them presents of woolen cloth, tsampa and swords.
Capt Bailey then describes the other pilgrimage, the Kingkor.

There was also a Small Pilgrimage  which was performed annually between the 19th day of the third month and the 15th of the eighth. After that date it was closed, because it was a sin in making the pilgrimage to take any life and the path was infested with small maggots about as long as a short match, which lay so thick upon the ground that it was impossible to step between them.

Interestingly, though the old Tibetan society was relatively free and women played an important role in the socio-economic life of the nation; in this particular case, women were not allowed to perform the Small Pilgrimage. Bailey explains why:

…as the route crossed the Drolma [Dolma] pass, which was taboo for women. Some of them however would go as far as the pass and then return, acquiring thereby what little merit the taboo allowed them. On the 15th of the eighth month all women were sent away from Chikchar and went to live at Yarap, though I could not discover for what reason.
We visited the temples. The largest was Pagmo Lhakang, down in the valley. It had a golden roof, and the principal image, that of Dorje Pagmo , was studded with precious stones. A golden butter lamp was set before it. On the hillside was a monastery with twelve monks who wore their hair long and matted behind. Here the central image was that of the Tashi Lama; and in another temple the central image was one of Drukpa Rimpoche, the incarnation of Sangling.

Bailey notes that Chikchar did not pay direct taxes, except a little butter, the provision of food and ula to officials: “They made their living by begging, ranging far and wide in the off-season for pilgrims. The headman had travelled as far as Pome  soliciting alms.”
Bailey scouted the area with Morshead. His findings would be used a few months later by Sir Henry McMahon during the Simla Conference. Bailey describes the area thus:

I asked where the Tsari river flowed after it joined the combined waters of the Char, Nye and Chayul. The official said that it did not flow into Pemako, but turned south to India; which fitted in with our hypothesis that it formed part of the headwaters of the Subansiri.

They had heard from the Lopas of some military expedition, which they assumed had been Chinese, since the Lopas described the sepoys working the bolts of their rifles in the same way as the Chinese.
The Chinese presence in the early 1910’s sounded the alarm in Delhi and London. Something had to be done to stop the possibility of a Chinese advance in the region.

Here are some of the photos  published by China Tibet Online:

 

 

 

 

1962 and the McMahon Line Saga: a book review

My book 1962 and the McMahon Line Saga has been reviewed by Prof P.M. Kamath in the July issue of the Defence and Security Alert.

1962 AND THE MCMAHON LINE SAGA

BOOK REVIEW

Reviewed by Prof P.M. Kamath, former Professor of Politics in Department of Civics and Politics, University of Bombay, currently, Hon. Director, VPM’s Centre for International Studies (Regd), and Adjunct Professor, Department of Geopolitics and International Relations, Manipal University, Manipal. His most recent edited book is, India-China Relations: An Agenda for Asian Century.

China is an extremely fascinating country and so are the Chinese people. Naturally, China provides so many challenges to researchers to explore unexplored areas and issues. Of the several such issues one issue of ever growing interest is Chinese aggression against then a newly independent and a developing country, like India was in October 1962. While that interest was there to study India China war debacle, it has grown in many folds since the nation went through in October 2012 fiftieth year — not a golden jubilee, but a “Black Jubilee”.
Claude Arpi – a French national living in India, has been writing extensively on China, Tibet and Europe. What I have noticed in his scholarly writings, is his abilities to see a foreign / security policy from a domestic political perspective. It is not uncommon for a foreign/security policy maker to use an issue some times to enhance his political power or divert attention of people from his domestic problems.
In this book, the author, after tracing the history of British efforts to open up to Tibet, discusses at length  the origin and implementation of McMahon Line, discusses at length his thesis that Sino-Indian border war was largely a result of Mao Zedong’s effort to reassert his fullest control on policy making towards India.
Though, Indian security establishment then did not know, 1962 was, as author says, a turning point for Mao, who was “depressed over the agricultural crisis and angry with the party elite … he was less able to work his will …was in temporary eclipse, spending most his time in bed.” In January 1962 at a 7,000 cadre conference, Mao came under attack; as a result, decided to temporarily retire. But as the author says: “By the Fall of 1962, Mao would return with a bang. The conflict with India was closely linked with his comeback.”
By September 1962 Mao was in complete control of India policy. India’s swift takeover of Goa, according to some, had its impact on Mao’s thinking. In this background, there was an increased Chinese pressure on India to negotiate. In the absence of Indian readiness to negotiate, on 6 October, China decided to go to war. Chinese then got accurate intelligence that Indians are planning to attack on the Thagla Ridge on 10 October. Mao, then had said: “It seems like armed coexistence won’t work … Nehru really wants to use force … He always wanted to seize Aksai Chin and Thagla Ridge.” He recalled: “We fought a war with old Chiang [Kai-Shek] … fought a war with Japan … one with America … we cannot lose ground … it would be tantamount to letting
them seize a big piece of land … Since Nehru sticks his head out and insists on fighting, for us not to fight with him would not be proper. Courtesy emphasizes reciprocity.” Yes, Nehru and his close advisers, who created a scenario to fight Chinese, without any military, strategic planning on the assumption that China, would not fight with India. You do not fight a war, what China described as a ‘massive attack’
as the author rightly says with “total lack of preparedness of the troops in terms of armament, ammunition, clothing and food supply. Some senior officers in the Army Headquarters in Delhi may have dreamt to ‘throw out the Chinese or take ‘the Thagla Ridge’ but it was a pipedream only.”
All this was done in the name of protecting the McMahon Line drawn by Henry McMahon to define boundaries between British India and an independent Tibet—with Chinese representative participating. Krishna Menon as Defence Minister did not take the trouble to protect McMahon Line in the west when Chinese occupied Aksai Chin. As the author remarks: “Delhi had made a fool of itself by not having noticed the occupation of Aksai Chin for several years …” Krishna Menon thought something had to be done “a sort of psychological and political compensation.” Thus he launched ‘Forward Policy.” While Chinese said they did not recognise McMahon Line, for India, the McMahon Line was sacrosanct; but in the eastern sector, India moved north of it in the Thagla Ridge. Chinese wanted to enforce India’s respect to the McMahon Line as Mao was looking for an excuse. War followed; Sir Henry McMahon must never have envisaged that “hurriedly conducted survey” would trigger a war one day! India could have protected McMahon Line, in the 1950’s by taking a firm stand against Chinese violation of Tibetan independent / autonomous status. McMahon Line’s status is closely linked to Tibetan status. India could have tried to physically demarcate India-China borders based on McMahon maps. Hence, India must take much of the blame for not seeking to transfer McMahon’s “thick red line on a map” on the ground by physical demarcation soon after independence. Let India leaders declassify the entire Henderson Brooks Report on Himalayan Blunder so that nation can know the exact truth.

The Classified Report

Excerpts of my book, 1962: the McMahon Line Saga  are published in the Sunday Magazine of The Pioneer.

Details of the Sino-Indian war, closely examined in the 1963 Henderson-Brooks Report, remain obsessively guarded by the Government of India. Claude Arpi’s latest book tells us why. Excerpts:

Fifty years have passed since China entered NEFA and Ladakh. This event has so deeply traumatised India that the Sino-Indian conflict has remained a scar in the nation’s psyche, partly because we do not know what exactly happened.
While it is today possible to get some hints of what took place from Indian official sources (the Official History of the 1962 War prepared by the Ministry of Defence and a number of White Papers published by the Ministry of External Affairs), but also from memoirs written by the main actors like Brig John Dalvi, Maj Gen Niranjan Prasad, Maj Gen DK Palit or Lt Gen BM Kaul as well as CIA, Russian and Chinese sources, but the main Indian report prepared by Lt Gen Henderson-Brooks and Brig Prem Bhagat is unfortunately still the most secret document of the Indian Republic.
Having lost hope that the famous document will one day be declassified, I have tried to guess: “What on earth has stopped the Government to declassify the report?”
Though portions of it were read out in Parliament by then Defence Minister YB Chavan in 1963, the gist seems to be missing.
A book helps us to understand the background of the Henderson-Brooks Report. Between 1962 and 1965, RD Pradhan was the Private Secretary of YB Chavan, who took over as Defence Minister from the disgraced VK Krishna Menon after the debacle of October 1962. Pradhan’s memoirs give great insights on the reasoning of the then Defence Minister who ordered the report: “For Chavan the main challenge in the first years was to establish relationship of trust between himself and the Prime Minister. He succeeded in doing so by his deft-handling of the Henderson-Brooks Report of Inquiry into the NEFA reverses.”
The Private Secretary elaborated on the Defence Minister’s sentiments during the following months: “During the conduct of the enquiry, Chavan was apprehensive that the committee may cast aspersions on the role of the Prime Minister or the Defence Minister.” Pradhan adds: “His (Chavan’s) main worry was to find ways to defend the Government and at the same time to ensure that the morale of the armed forces was not further adversely affected. For that he repeatedly emphasised in Parliament that the enquiry was a fact-finding one and to ‘learn lessons’ for the future and it was not a ‘witch-hunt’ to identify and to punish the officers responsible for the debacle.”
It is clear that the main objective of Chavan was to defend the Government, in other words, ‘defend Nehru’ and the political coterie around him who were responsible for the death of nearly 2,000 Indian officers and jawans.
Chavan’s Secretary concludes: “It was a tribute to his sagacity and political maturity that he performed his role to the full satisfaction of Parliament and also earned the gratitude of the Prime Minister.” He obviously earned Nehru’s gratitude because he managed to absolve him of any wrong even though the Prime Minister was the main culprit.
In 2008, answering a question on the report, Defence Minister AK Antony told Parliament that the Henderson-Brooks Report could not be made public because an internal study by the Indian Army had established that its contents “are not only extremely sensitive but also of current operational value”.
At first sight it seems strange that this 49-year-old report is still of ‘operational value’. Does the Minister mean reverse operational value? It is probably a manual of what should not be done in case of a conflict with China or any other country. All the more reason to study it!
Were the officials who drafted the Minister’s reply aware of another report, Official History of the Conflict with China (1962), prepared by the same Defence Ministry, detailing the famous ‘operations’ in 474 foolscap pages?

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The McMahon Line: Tibet Will Test Xi Jinping

This is first review of my book, 1962 and the McMahon Line Saga.
It is written by Rajinder Puri, the veteran journalist and cartoonist and appeared in The Statesman on 28 October 2012.

Special Article
The McMahon Line: Tibet Will Test Xi Jinping
Rajinder Puri
The Statesman
THIS critic had always considered the real dispute between China and India not arising from their conflicting claims over sparsely inhabited or uninhabited land but from the fact that Beijing denied India its legitimate sphere of influence. It now transpires that Beijing has similar concerns. It considers its questioned rights over Tibet to be the real cause of Sino-Indian discord. This is brought out lucidly in a new book by Mr Claude Arpi, 1962 and the McMahon Line Saga, produced by Lancer Publishers. The wealth of information contained in this book provides a treasure-trove for any research scholar of China studies. I will not attempt a formal review of the book which is best left for a specialist on China studies. But one can cull some nuggets of information from its contents that are most relevant to the crisis in Tibet and a rational solution for resolving it.
The starting point of the current crisis in Tibet was the Simla Conference of 1914 attended by Britain, Tibet and China. After various expeditions to Tibet the British had concluded that China had no tangible presence or influence in Tibet. The status of Tibet was nebulous. Imperial Britain hosted the Simla Conference to formalise its status.
The British and the Tibetans considered Tibet fully autonomous. They denied sovereignty but conceded suzerainty of China over Tibet. Years after their departure the failure by the Indian Ambassador to China, KM Pannikar, to clearly demarcate between sovereignty and suzerainty worsened Sino-Indian relations. The truth is that Tibet was an independent country which was annexed by the Mongol and Manchu rulers of China after they had conquered it to create their empires. With the weakening of the Chinese government at the end of Manchu rule, the Chinese control over Tibet had vanished. This becomes evident from the fact that both China and Tibet were separately represented at the Simla Conference.
The claims of Chinese and Tibetan representatives at the Simla Conference were in conflict. While the Tibetans insisted on full autonomy, conceding only notional suzerainty, the Chinese claimed Tibet to be part of China. But interestingly enough the Chinese representative, Ivan Chen, rested his claim on the fact that the Mongols under Genghis Khan had conquered Tibet. Was this argument valid? Tibetans today point out that authentic China was limited to the territory within the Great Wall built by the Han Chinese. The rest was part of empires created by foreign conquerors of China. Going by Ivan Chen’s logic India could as well claim that Myanmar is part of India because Britain when it ruled British India had included Burma to be part of India.
With World War I clouds hovering over Europe, Britain was anxious to secure an agreement with China. Finally an acceptable formula was adopted in the Simla Conference. Tibet was divided between Inner and Outer Tibet. China agreed not to make Tibet a province of China and also agreed to give full autonomy and promised non-interference in the affairs of Outer Tibet to be directly under the Dalai Lama. The agreement was signed by the British and the Tibetans but was only initialed by the Chinese. Interestingly enough, the Chinese baulked at signing the treaty not because they objected to its other terms but only because agreement could not be reached on the exact location of the boundary separating Inner from Outer Tibet.
After India became independent in 1947 to inherit the British policy on Tibet, the crisis created by the intransigence and distortion of history by the Chinese was compounded by the vacillating and confused policy pursued by Prime Minister Nehru. In November 1950 China announced its intention to “liberate” Tibet. Sardar Patel wanted to consolidate British policy on Tibet by securing our borders. He wrote a note to Nehru suggesting concrete steps to achieve this. But Nehru changed his stance by accepting that Tibet was not a country “verging on independence” but was to be treated as an “occupied country”. Nehru declined to reply to Patel but instead drafted his own policy on Tibet with its disastrous consequences. He based policy on his assumption that China as an Asian nation would consider friendship with India paramount. Mr Arpi comments in his book: “Sardar Vallabhai Patel…probably was the one Indian politician who could have balanced Nehru; the destiny of India could have taken a different direction; it was not to be. With the demise of Patel, for the sake of the newly-found “friendship” with China, Tibet policy was buried.”
However history has moved on. In the final analysis the fate of a nation is not determined by quibbling over maps and treaties. It is decided by ground realities. That is what needs to be focused on in order to resolve the Tibetan crisis which bedevils relations between India and China. Tibet was India’s neighbour for centuries and there was no serious border problem. China annexed Tibet and a serious border problem has arisen. Without resolving it normalisation with China seems unreal. Can the Tibetan crisis be resolved?
Mr Arpi concludes his book on a somewhat pessimistic note. He writes: “The border issue between India and China is not going to be solved very soon, for the good reason that both the Indians and the Tibetans are not ready to rewrite history and admit that Tibet had no power to sign an agreement with another independent nation. It practically means that India will continue to stand by the McMahon Line.”
I am not that pessimistic. I think a glimmer of hope exists. Thanks to his sense of realism, Dalai Lama has publicly agreed that Tibet could be part of China as long as its full cultural autonomy and religious freedom are respected. This is a huge concession that is unacceptable to the younger generation of Tibetans. Nevertheless if it comes to the crunch I believe that His Holiness could prevail over his young followers.
Within China the intransigence of the government could be traced to the fact that President Hu Jintao had been appointed by Deng Xiaoping as the administrator of Tibet. He was the author of Beijing’s hardline approach and repression in Tibet. Any reversal of that policy would have entailed loss of face for President Hu in a society where keeping face matters so much. Mr Xi Jinping on the other hand was brought up by a father who despite being Mao’s General was also very liberal in his approach towards Tibet. Would Mr Xi reverse Beijing’s Tibet policy to accommodate Dalai Lama’s generous offer? On the eve of the leadership transition in China there are political ripples emanating from exposures on corruption that affect even China’s army.
Dare one hope that these will lead to a more liberal China? Resolution of the Tibetan crisis by granting full autonomy to Outer Tibet would establish normalcy on the Sino-Indian border. Normalcy would allow New Delhi to accept some arrangement to legitimize China’s Aksai Chin road connecting Xingjian to Tibet . That would lay the foundation for a meaningful India-China partnership. Will Mr Xi Jinping deliver? Tibet will be his litmus test.                           
The writer is a veteran journalist and cartoonist. He blogs at www.rajinderpuri.wordpress.com

1962: The McMahon Line Saga

Here is the Introduction of my forthcoming book, 1962: The McMahon Saga published by Lancer Publishers.

In 2012, we are ‘celebrating’ the 50th anniversary of a tragic event which has remained a deep scar in the Indian psyche: the border war with China.
What perhaps makes the issue yet more painful is the fact that the Government of India (mostly under the Congress leadership since 1962) has continued to hide the report of the debacle prepared by Lt Gen. Henderson-Brooks and Brig. Prem Bhagat in 1963.
Why is the Indian public not authorized to know what happened on the slopes of the Thagla ridge of the then West Kameng division of the NEFA in October 1962?
It is one of the issues that we have tried to analyze from what is known of the famous Report. We have also gone through the probable reasons for the present establishment keeping the report under wraps for nearly 50 years.
Our conclusion is that the local Army commanders (4 Infantry Division and 7 Infantry Brigade) were not told where the border was. A shameful Himalayan blunder indeed.
Several years ago, we acquired a large collection of British archival documents related to the Tibet-India border. For a long time we sat on it, but with the forthcoming 50 year (let us not call it ‘Golden Jubilee’, though it could accurately be termed ‘Black Jubilee’), we thought that we should do something with these rare documents. This is the genesis of these essays.
The thread between this collection of papers is the Tibet-India (today China-India) frontier in the North-East, as well as other musings linked with the 1962 Sino-Indian conflict, for example Mao’s motivations for ‘teaching India a lesson’.
The fact that despite of hundreds of books and articles have been written on the 1962 China’s war and the border issue, there is very little in print on the background of the War. Did not China go to war (though they say that it is India which attacked first)?
The more one digs into this question, the more one discovers that it is deeply, intimately linked with the history of modern Tibet, particularly the status of the Roof of the World as a de facto independent nation.
Nobody can deny that many contemporary issues in the domain of national security and defense are the direct outcome of what happened at the beginning of the 20th century on the Roof of the World and the tumultuous trilateral relations between British India, China and Tibet.
As World War II drew to a close, the position of the British government was clear. In August 1943, a note from Anthony Eden, the British Prime Minister to Dr. T. V. Soong, the Chinese Ambassador in Great Britain says: “Since the Chinese Revolution of 1911, when Chinese forces were withdrawn from Tibet, Tibet has enjoyed de facto independence. She has ever since regarded herself as in practice completely autonomous and has opposed Chinese attempts to reassert control.”
The dispute with China only started at the end of the 1950’s as a consequence of China’s occupation of Tibet. Relations between India and China today are closely linked to this event and in reading these essays, one will understand that the border dispute with China will not be solved till the Tibetan issue is settled in a satisfactory way.
What also emerges from of this study is that for centuries, if not millennia, there no border in the Westphalian sense of the term; men and goods always travelled freely from one side of the Himalayan range to the other; this abruptly stopped in 1962.
It does not mean that there were no friction between the Tibetan world and the tribal populations living between the plains of Assam and the ‘snow line’, as older British maps put it.
The border situation was undoubtedly hardened after the Chinese occupation of Tibet, especially after the Dalai Lama took refuge in India in March/April 1959. This also triggered a tougher stance by the Indian officials dealing with the border issue; first amongst them Jawaharlal Nehru, the Indian Prime Minister (as well as External Affairs Minister). The direct outcome was a war that India has neither forgotten nor really digested.
But before we go into the more contemporary period, it is necessary to have a look the events of the beginning of the 20th century.
We start this series of studies with a young British Colonel, Francis Younghusband entering Lhasa with his troops in 1904.
In the Tibetan capital, Younghusband made a great discovery: the Chinese presence on the Tibetan plateau was a constitutional fiction.
This had long been suspected by British officials. Had not Lord Curzon written a year before Younghusband left for Tibet: “We regard the so-called suzerainty of China over Tibet as a constitutional fiction, a political affectation which has been maintained because of its convenience to both parties”? But after Younghusband’s journey to Tibet, the British had concrete proof of it.
The Simla Conference in 1914 was the direct outcome of this discovery: if the Tibetan issue was to be solved, the Lhasa Government should be a party to any agreement.
During the Simla Conference in Simla, the Tibetan Plenipotentiary sat on equal footing with Sir Henry McMahon, his British counterpart and Ivan Chen, the Chinese one. The Convention signed by India and Tibet (and only initialed by China) did not solve the vexed Tibet-China frontier issue, but the border between India and Tibet was fixed in the form of a thick red line on a double-page map; that was the McMahon Line.
Before going into the intricacies of the Simla Convention, we will follow the steps of two intrepid British ‘explorers’, Capt. Frederick Bailey and Capt. Henry Morshead of the Survey of India who spent the last months of 1913 scouting for the British Empire on, the other side of the ‘snow line’. Their experience and notes would be invaluable for Henry McMahon and his assistant Charles Bell to draw the famous Red Line.
Bailey’s and Morshead’s escapade was followed by a series of ‘Expeditions, Missions and Promenades’ by British officials, mostly Political Officers or Assistant Political Officers posted in the North-East. This provided the Empire with a greater control and better intelligence on the tribal ‘unadministered’ areas, north of the Inner Line, marking the regions ‘administrated’ by the Government of Assam.
Most of these quasi-military expeditions were triggered by law and order incidents like the Abor Expedition which followed the murder Noel Williamson, Assistant Political Officer at Sadiya and Dr. J. D. Gregorson, a doctor in the tea gardens.
The Chinese ‘threat’ was also a good excuse to advance the British Administration in these remote areas.
The Chinese troops of Zhao Erfeng, the warlord of Sichuan had entered Lhasa in 1910 and tried to capture the Dalai Lama who had to temporarily take refuge in India. Two years later, the remaining Chinese soldiers were thrown out of Tibet and the Dalai Lama could return, declaring the Independence of his country in 1912. But the Chinese presence, particularly in the Siang and Lohit Valley continued to greatly worry Delhi and London.
In March 1914, an agreement was reached between the Governments of Tibet and British India to demarcate their common border. Here again the Chinese menace made it compulsory for Delhi and London to have a fixed boundary.
The accord had some special conditions, particularly about a famous pilgrimage around the Dakpa Sheri, the ‘Pure Crystal Mountain’ in Tsari region, which crossed south of the McMahon Line, into Indian territory. We shall consecrate a chapter to this issue.
We shall also travel on the remote tracks of the valleys of the Subansiri, the Siang or the Lohit in the footsteps of adventurous Assistant Political Officers trying their best to convince Shillong (then the capital of Assam) and Delhi that it was in the interest of British India to consolidate its administration, establish regular contact with the tribal populations and set up the defence of these far-away areas. They were not always heard by their bosses in Delhi and London.
During our peregrinations on the Himalayan border, we will go in detail into some relatively little known issues, such as the history of Tawang located in the north-eastern part of today’s Arunachal Pradesh; but also into the British policy towards Tibet and even the possibility for India to militarily defend the Roof of the World. A detailed plan was prepared by the War Office for the purpose; we shall analyze it. Interestingly, the operations were planned with 7 squadrons of the RAF. Unfortunately 15 years later, the Government of India had forgotten that the Air Force could be used in the Himalayan region.
Particularly interesting will be the long-drawn discussions in Lhasa between the British Political Officers in Sikkim (first Sir Basil Gould and then Arthur Hopkinson) on the confirmation of the McMahon Line and the possibility of ‘returning’ to Lhasa government, some areas south of it.
Interestingly British India had a Tibet Policy. Partly in response to Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek’s offer to give Tibet of ‘a very high degree of autonomy’, Sir Olaf Caroe, then Foreign Secretary of the Government of India drafted a clear Tibet Policy. We shall look at it in some detail.
At the end of World War II, a British Memo noted: “There would seem to be nothing irreconcilable between this offer of ‘a very high degree of autonomy’ and the attitude of His Majesty’s Government. It is clear however, from conversations which took place between British and Chinese representatives in Lhasa in 1944 that with regard to Tibet, there is a considerable difference between the British and the Chinese conceptions of the word autonomy.”
The ‘autonomy’ envisaged by the Government of British India was indeed different from the one mentioned by Chiang Kai-shek in his speech in the Chinese Assembly on August 24, 1945 when the Generalissimo elaborated on the nationalist policy concerning Tibet. After declaring China’s desire to allow the ‘frontier racial groups’ to attain independence if capable of doing so, he asserted: “I solemnly declare that if the Tibetans should at this time express a wish for self-government our Government would, in conformity with our sincere traditions, accord it a very high degree of autonomy. If in the future, they fulfill economic requirement of independence, the nation’s Government will, as in the case of Outer Mongolia, help them to attain this status”.
In London, many believed that Chiang was playing to the gallery and was not really sincere in offering to grant independence to Tibet. The trick, according to British officials, was to show that China was in control of Tibet (it was not the case). Only a sovereign in full control can generously offer ‘autonomy’ to his ‘subjects’. But in the Tibetan case, Lhasa was for all purposes already de facto independent, therefore there was no question of ‘offering’ what Tibet already possessed.
A statement would eventually be issued on November 5, 1945 by the British Cabinet in London. It reiterated the points expounded in the 1943 Memorandum from the British Prime Minister Anthony Eden to T. V. Soong.
The Statement stated that ‘in general’, two factors governed the Tibetan question, first “Tibet has in practice regarded herself as autonomous and has maintained her autonomy for over 30 years”; second “our attitude has always been to recognize China’s suzerainty, but on the understanding that Tibet is regarded as autonomous by China”.
The purpose of the Memo was to find a solution in case of “domination of Tibet by a potentially hostile major power [which] would constitute a direct threat to the security of India.”
The security of the border areas was always outmost in the minds of the British administrators dealing with the North-East.
India’s objectives were clearly expressed: “The Government of India are therefore, vitally interested in maintaining friendly relations with Tibet and in preserving for Tibet at least that measure of autonomy she now enjoys.”
The outcome of the discussion was unambiguous, London (and Delhi) did not want to have a new neighbour on its borders, particularly not the Soviet Union or China.
This perception of what is ‘autonomy’ remains the bone of contention between Beijing and Dharamsala today.
The Memo thus defines the British perception: “The basis of Tibetan autonomy must rest in strong diplomatic support by HMG [His Majesty Government] and by India so that the Tibetans will not be subjected to pressure by any potential hostile power.”
The British Government did not think only in terms of an armed invasion (by Russia or China), but also about ‘infiltrations’. As recently witnessed in Nepal, where local elements have encouraged a slow take-over of the country by the People’s Republic of China, infiltrations have been a method recurrently used by successive Chinese leaders.
The Government of India continued to follow the policy outlined in the Memo till the end of 1949.
But everything began changing on January 1, 1950 when Communist China announced its intention to ‘liberate’ Tibet.
It was done on October 7, 1950 and a few weeks later, the ‘liberation of Tibet’ was announced to the world (by the Chinese). It was the turning point in the modern history of the Himalayan region.
Surprisingly, Nehru changed his stance; from being a country ‘verging on independence’, Tibet became an ‘occupied country’, but Delhi did not announce any change of policy, mainly because the Government decided to play the card of ‘friendship’ with China.
Taken by surprise, Delhi had no Tibet Policy to cope with the new situation. The well-known letter written on November 7, 1950 by Sardar Patel to the Indian Prime Minister, which we shall analyze, was the first step in the direction of preparing a proper policy for India’s borders.
The two months of November/December 1950 saw an opportunity to work on this policy. All the ingredients were present in Patel’s letter; unfortunately, they would only be partially implemented (through the Himmatsinghji Committee report in particular).
More than 60 years later, the words of Patel still ring true: “Throughout history, we have seldom been worried about our Northern frontier. The Himalayas haven regarded as an impenetrable barrier against any threat from the North. We had a friendly Tibet which gave us no trouble.”
The letter goes on analyzing:
-    a military and intelligence appreciation of the Chinese threat to India both on the frontier and the internal security.
-    An examination of our military position and such redisposition of our forces as might be necessary, particularly with the idea of guarding important routes or area which are likely to be subject to dispute
-    An appraisal of the strength of our forces
-    A long-term consideration of our defence needs
-    The question of Chinese entry into the UNO
-    The future of our mission in Lhasa and trade posts at Gyanste and Yatung
-    The policy in regard to the Mac Mahon Line
That was a Tibet Plicy.
Nehru did not reply to Patel, but drafted his own defeatist policy on November 18, 1950; 62 years later, the imbroglio created by Nehru’s idealist views remains unresolved. Nehru’s Note had concluded: what “we should seek is some kind of understanding of China” and he adds, “China desires this too for obvious reasons.” It was a wrong assumption.
“We cannot save Tibet”, was Nehru final conclusion.
A few days later Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel passed away; he probably was the one Indian politician who could have balanced Nehru; the destiny of India could have taken a different direction; it was not to be. With the demise of Patel, the Tibet Policy was buried for the sake of the newly-found ‘friendship’ with China.
One of the most fascinating characters in pre-1950 Tibet is the scholar from Amdo, Gedun Choepel. He is one of the first Tibetans to travel from the Roof of the World, study Indian languages and literature and reinterpret Tibetan history in a more holistic way. At the end of his too-short life, he was embroiled in the border issue at a time as British India were trying to reconfirm the McMahon Line through an offer to return Tawang to the Tibetan Government. His inner and outer journey will be an occasion to look at the Nationalist China’s policy towards Tibet and the increase in Chinese activities (mainly intelligence) on the Roof of the World at the end of World War II.
One difficulty faced by researchers wanting to study the intricacies of the border issue and the causes of the 1962 conflict is that, after the escape of the Dalai Lama to India in March 1959, the Chinese have confiscated the Tibetan archives. Though they presented some documents during the 1960 borders talks with India, it was only selected documents which could be used to drive their argument, mainly about Tawang area.
One question remains, had India a Tibet Policy before the 1962 conflict? An in-depth study of Nehru’s works will show that Delhi did not have anything which can be called a ‘policy’ to tackle the situation on its borders. In 1957, Nehru even told Apa Pant, the Political Officer in Sikkim: “We live in a world where national boundaries become more and more anachronistic”; Communist China had just opened a road across Indian territory in the Aksai Chin of Ladakh.
Five years later, the ‘anachronistic’ boundary became the object of a war between India and China.
The fact remains that India had interests in Tibet and badly needed a Patel-like strategic vision to protect these interests as well as the country’s security along the Himalayan borders. This was non-existent; it resulted in the disaster of October 1962.
Finally, we shall look at India’s interests in Tibet today and at the need of a proper policy taking into account the border row, the presence of the Dalai Lama in India and the traditional cultural and trade relations between the Roof of the World and the Indian subcontinent.

An anecdote
We would like to recount a telling anecdote to conclude. We once asked the Dalai Lama  if the Tibetan Government had not committed a great blunder, at the time of India’s Independence, when it refused to immediately acknowledge the 1914 border agreement and the Simla Convention.
He answered: “About Mon (Tawang) in NEFA area, I remember that around 1945/45 [it was probably in 1945, during Hopkinson’s visit], at that time I had no responsibility. I heard and noticed that a special Tibetan National Assembly took place and a British [Indian] mission came to see the Kashag [Tibetan Cabinet] in the Potala. I remember some of the people of the Mission who came. (I think Richardson  was one of them). Along with them, there were some people dressed in Sikkimese dress. From my window in Potala, I noticed that and I was told that the Tibetan National Assembly was taking place; the session was going on because the Bristish Army had entered in Tawang area. The Tibetan government wanted to protest. So, therefore it was an indication that at that time because Tawang and these areas had been in possession of the Tibetans [in the past], and the [National Assembly] wanted to hold on to these areas. Although in 1914 at the Simla Convention the border was already demarcated and [the Agreement] was signed [by the Tibetan Government]. But most of the Tibetans did know that (laughing). And on the spot when some Bristish officials came, the Tibetan officials said: “This is our land” (laughing) But they did not know that the Government had already decided in 1914 [about the border between Tibet and India]. So they did not know what had been decided [in 1914]. Such a wonderful Government!”
The Dalai Lama could stop laughing.
Had the Tibetans government acted more decisively in the 1940s, during what they call the Minority (of the Dalai Lama), writing this book would have not been necessary.

1962: The McMahon Line Saga

My new book, 1962: The McMahon Line Saga, published by Lancer Publishers will be released in October.
It deals with the main cause of the 1962 War with China: the McMahon Line.
In the next few weeks, I will post on this blog documents, articles and extracts of the book.
In the meantime, you can visit my website and  access a large number of archival documents on the 1962 Sino-Indian conflict.
Click here to read...

About the Book
Fifty years ago, India went through a tragic event which has remained a deep scar in the country’s psyche: a border war with China.
During the author’s archival peregrinations on the Himalayan border, he goes into some relatively little known issues, such as the checkered history of Tawang; the British India policy towards Tibet and even the possibility for India to militarily defend the Roof of the World.
The author also looks into why the Government still keeps the Henderson Brooks Report under wraps and what were Mao’s motivations for ‘teaching India a lesson’.
Throughout this series of essays, the thread remains the Tibet-India frontier in the North-East and the Indo-Chinese conflict.
The more one digs into this question, the more one discovers that the entire issue is intimately linked with the history of modern Tibet; particularly the status of the Roof of the World as a de facto independent nation.
British India had a Tibet Policy, Independent India, did not.
This led to the unfortunate events of 1962.