The Next Saffron Revolution

Makeshift satellite dishes have been set up in several of the temple compound's courtyards, although it takes a close look to distinguish them from the solar reflectors the monks use to heat their kettles of yak-butter tea. The middle-aged monk said he's had satellite TV for the last 10 years at his mud-and-brick house, some 40 miles away and two miles high, where he can pick up Chinese-language VOA broadcasts and Germany's Deutsche Welle Television. It's not much tougher than turning the dish toward the right satellite and punching a 10-digit code into the signal receiver, he said, adding that his home is a favorite gathering spot in the village. "Local teachers come over to watch TV."

Beijing keeps dumping more fuel on the fire. Authorities unplugged Longwu's broadband Internet access just as the riots were breaking out in Lhasa, making the monks angrier than ever. As if that weren't enough, police set up a blockade to prevent a repetition of the incense ritual. In frustration, two young lamas protested by beating themselves bloody with stones. A third slashed himself with a knife and remained in the hospital recovering late last week, according to a colleague. "Without freedom, what's the use of living?" the colleague asks. Even some of the most privileged young Tibetans seem to agree. Last week in Beijing and other major cities, Tibetan students at elite universities for ethnic minorities held silent protests and candlelight vigils for victims of the crackdown. A senior party official in the Chinese capital was openly upset the morning after the vigil in that city. "Look!" he said. "The troubles have even spread to Beijing!"

Many Chinese think Tibet should be grateful for a decade of unprecedented economic development. But Tibetans say the real beneficiaries have been the ethnic Han Chinese. The boom's crowning achievement, the Beijing-Lhasa rail line, has brought thousands of Chinese migrant workers and carpetbaggers in its first year of service but scant prosperity for natives of the autonomous region. "We thought there'd be employment, but only the cleaners are Tibetan," says a Lhasa resident who requested anonymity for fear of retribution. Worse, housing construction for the newcomers destroyed valuable cropland; now Tibetans are blaming the train for the skyrocketing price of barley flour to make tsampa, their national dish. A year ago tsampa flour was 14 cents a pound; today it's five times that price. Yak meat has jumped from $1.70 a pound to $2.10. Tibetans say they can't even die in peace anymore. Traditionally they have honored their dead by "sky burial"—leaving the body in an open-air mortuary to be picked clean by giant Himalayan vultures. But the birds have abandoned the old burial sites, driven away by too much human commotion. "Now there are no vultures," says a Lhasa resident. "Old people are very worried where they'll go."

The week's most hopeful news came after Britain's prime minister, Gordon Brown, spoke by phone with his Chinese counterpart. Brown later disclosed that Prime Minister Wen promised to reopen talks on Tibet if the Dalai Lama would renounce violence and give up the cause of Tibetan independence. If Wen is serious, the talks can start immediately. The Dalai Lama has called only for greater autonomy since 1987, when he formally stopped seeking full independence, and his longtime commitment to nonviolence helped him win the Nobel Peace Prize two years later.

In his interview with NEWSWEEK, the Dalai Lama repeated his willingness to sit down with Chinese leaders. He spoke of his "great respect" for both Hu Jintao and Wen Jiabao, especially the latter. "He seems very gentle," the Tibetan leader said. Hu was the party secretary in Tibet during the 1989 crackdown, when hundreds of Tibetans were reportedly killed, but the Dalai Lama said he'd like to meet with him too. "I would urge them to find out what is really going on in Tibetan minds and what is happening on the ground," he said. "I always like to quote Deng Xiaoping and say please seek truth from facts." China's leaders need to listen not just to him, but to the angry young exiles. They're saying openly what most Tibetans in China don't dare express. "As long as I am alive, I am fully committed to amity between Tibetans and Chinese," the Dalai Lama said. Beijing may not get a better chance to make peace.

With Sudip Mazumdar in Dharamsala, Jonathan Ansfield in Tongren and Mary Hennock in Beijing

© 2008