Tung withdraws anti-subversion bill

AP , HONG KONG

Hong Kong Chief Executive Tung Chee-hwa said yesterday that he has withdrawn the anti-subversion bill that sparked a massive public protest in July, plunged his administration into crisis and fueled fears that China was trying to curb freedoms in the former British colony.

Tung said his decision was made amid worries among the public about the proposed legislation, which critics said would erode Hong Kong's Western-style civil liberties. Tung also said Hong Kong should focus more on economic recovery.

"I have listened to a lot of opinions, what our citizens care about the most at the moment are the economic matters," Tung said.

The government won't introduce a new version of the bill until it has consulted with the public and gained its support, Tung said. He said there is no timetable for launching a new bill.

Legislative support for the anti-subversion legislation unraveled following a 500,000-strong protest march against the bill on July 1, and the bill was put on hold.

The matter forced Tung's government into an embarrassing retreat and threw it into the biggest crisis since Britain returned Hong Kong to China in 1997.

Two key ministers -- the security and financial secretaries -- resigned amid the crisis.

Hong Kong is required to outlaw sedition, treason and subversion under the mini-constitution negotiated for the 1997 handover. But critics said the bill went too far.

It proposed giving police more powers and imposing life in prison for some offenses, stirring fears that it could lead to China-style controls on journalists, the Falun Gong spiritual group and others.

Tung said he has notified China's central government in Beijing about the bill's withdrawal.

"We won't begin a new legislative process if we do not have a thorough consultation or extensive support from the public," he said.

Although public fury has largely subsided for now, the highly unpopular Tung has continued to face numerous calls that he resign for mishandling the bill.

The controversy came at a bad time for the government. Hong Kong has never fully recovered from the 1997 to 1998 Asian financial crisis and is currently battling record unemployment of 8.7 percent and deepening deflation.

The SARS outbreak, which killed 299 people in the territory, prompted travel warnings that devastated Hong Kong's tourism and other business. The territory slipped into a recession during the second quarter.

Modernization threatens to obliterate ages-old Tibetan culture

By Jonathan Watts

THE GUARDIAN , LHASA, TIBET

The hottest nightclub on the roof of the world sits between an enormous concrete monument to Chinese rule and Potala Palace, the awe-inspiring world heritage site that was formerly the winter residence of the Dalai Lama.

Lighting up the Lhasa night with its giant red neon sign, JJ's does not pretend to inspire the devotion of the Buddhist pilgrims who throw themselves to the city's holy ground after journeying through the mountains. Nor does it pay much heed to the ideology of the central government in Beijing, which has dispatched an army of bureaucrats, engineers, soldiers and businessmen to stamp Tibet with a Chinese image.

Yet it packs in a crowd of locals in traditional dress, Han tourists, off-duty police and even the odd foreign visitor with its dizzyingly eclectic music, dance and decor. Opera divas, belly dancers and crooners of Chinese pop songs share the stage with actors performing classical plays about demons and princesses. Fans show their appreciation by draping their idols with white hada scarves.

Tibet's deeply religious culture is apparent behind the bar, where a portrait of the 10th Panchen Lama beams out serenely from among cans of Lhasa beer. Modernity is more evident after midnight, when the red sconces on the wall start flashing to a techno beat that gets the crowd dancing so hard you would never believe that oxygen is in short supply at this altitude.

For those expecting a Shangri-la in the Himalayas, the club's existence is likely to be a disappointment. But it is a striking example of the disorientating changes in modern Tibet, as economic migrants rush into one of the most spiritual places on earth, hoping to cash in on breakneck economic development that is raising the living standards of its impoverished people but heightening inequality and destroying a unique culture.

In terms of investment and infrastructure, the Land of Snows has never had it so good. Under the "Go West" policy of President Hu Jintao -- a former engineer who spent part of his career in Lhasa -- the government is pouring money into the region in unprecedented amounts to try to close the gap between China's prosperous coastal regions and its economically backward inland areas.

The figures are staggering. Prodded by the central government, rich municipalities like Shanghai and Chinese corporations like the oil giant Sinopec are on a five-year, ?5.5 billion (US$8.7 billion) spending spree in Tibet.

This has brought new roads, power plants and hotels and the Potala Palace is undergoing renovation. Construction has begun on a new terminal for Gongkar airport, the main point of entry into Tibet. In the mountains, engineers are blasting out tunnels and bridging ravines so that Tibet's first railway can begin operations in 2007.

The new line is expected to accelerate the huge influx of Han, China's biggest ethnic group, into the previously isolated state.

Last year, more than ?1 billion of public funds flowed into Tibet -- equivalent, say officials, to a subsidy of ?400 to each of its 2.7 million people, which is more than the annual salary in China.

But the figure is misleading. Rather than enriching the local population, most of whom are farmers and herders, much of the money ends up in the hands of the Han migrants who dominate the urban centers. While the average disposable income in towns is the highest in China, Tibet's farmers are among the poorest in the country.

The growing inequality is evident along the dusty, potholed roads between Tibet's two main cities, Shigatse and Lhasa, where children rush up to beg food and money from any car that stops. Beneath the glacier at Snow Pass, yak herders and trinket sellers subsist in tents. In Lhoka, where the government is offering businesses free land and tax concessions, peasants say the practice of brothers sharing a bride is returning because they cannot afford to divide up their fields.

But in the towns, bars, brothels, internet cafes and electrical appliance shops are springing up to cater to the growing army of non-Tibetan construction workers, security guards and bureaucrats who are paid more than double their usual salaries to work in Tibet.

In the growing red-light district of Shigatse, a massage-parlour owner from Sichuan jokes that he was attracted to the holy land by the lack of competition. In Tsetang, now almost unrecognizable as a Tibetan town, a businessman boasts that he has invested ?770,000 in shops. Even though the investment has yet to show a profit, he says: "Phone me 10 years from now and I'll show you a different Tibet."

He may not have to wait that long. Lhasa is already being transformed. Ten years ago, the streets around the Jokhang Temple were filled with pilgrims. Today, they are filled with tourists haggling at souvenir shops. At least, though, the buildings there are Tibetan. The old town is shrinking as developers rush to build incongruous new hotels, apartment blocks and shopping malls of a type that could be seen anywhere in China. The clearest sign of the Han influence comes at night, when the main street of the new town is illuminated with street lamps decorated with the last motif you would associate with the Himalayas: a plastic palm-tree.

"It's a rather ugly street with no local characteristics," says the governor of Tibet, Jampa Phuntsog. "In the construction of new buildings, there are some problems that need to be resolved. We have to work on ensuring that they have Tibetan characteristics."

He is not alone in being concerned. Earlier this summer, Unesco (United Nations Educational, Scientific and Cultural Organization) took the unusual step of urging China to halt the demolition of historic buildings in Lhasa and to reconsider the city's development plans. But the problem is not solely of China's making. Even with the restrictions imposed on foreign visitors, tourist numbers have risen rapidly in recent years, transforming the lives of many locals.

Nyima Tsaring, a senior monk at the Jokhang Temple, says he is so busy showing westerners around that he only has two hours a day left for the spiritual training. "I have to guide people like a museum worker, but I'd rather be studying all the time."

Urban Tibetans have undoubtedly benefited from China's development drive. Lifespans have increased, public health has improved and the opportunities to explore the outside world have grown.

"I don't like the style of the new town," says Migmar, a carpet seller in Lhasa. "But I'm not against the Chinese. Before they came, the roads were bad. Now they are much better. The Chinese bring many good things."

Tibetan life remains spiritual, but materialistic global values are seeping in through television and the internet. In Shigatse, three factory workers from the countryside invite us back to the cosy room that they share. Although they are paid just ?25 a month for making pillows, the sisters have bought a television and DVD player, which takes pride of place alongside two pictures of the 10th Panchen Lama.

It is a similar story at Sara Temple, near Lhasa, where a 19-year-old monk keeps a picture of the Panchen Lama above his bed and one of the footballer Ronaldinho on his front door. "I love football," he says.

Clubs like JJ's can be seen in every major town. For the urban young, these are exciting times. For the rural old, something essential is being lost. Those caught in the middle admit they are confused.

"The development is good, but too much Chinese influence is bad," says Zashi, a driver from Shigatse. "It is a contradiction that I don't know how to resolve."

Dalai Lama prepared to go to Tibet

POSSIBLE RETURN: Following a thaw in relations, the exiled spiritual leader says he is ready to go back to Lhasa provided China does not attach preconditions

THE GUARDIAN , DHARMSALA, INDIA

The Dalai Lama is willing to return to Tibet and end nearly half a century of exile in India if China allows him to go back to his homeland "without preconditions."

In an exclusive interview, Tibet's exiled spiritual leader said he was ready to return to the capital, Lhasa, which he fled in 1959, as soon as he got the "green light" from Beijing. He said China's government had stopped him visiting Tibet, most recently in 1984, and prevented him from traveling to sacred Buddhist sites inside China.

"I'm hopeful to visit Tibet, to see my old place with my own eyes, and try to cool down the situation," he added.

"You ask under what circumstances? China should give me the green light, without preconditions."

The Dalai Lama's offer follows a thaw between China and Tibet's exiled leadership, and came on the eve of his three-week trip to the US, which began Thursday. He is likely to discuss his possible return to Tibet with US President George W. Bush, whom he is to meet next week.

Speculation that the Dalai Lama is secretly preparing to make a deal with China has been growing since two of his envoys made a trip to Beijing last September. They visited China again in late May, in the first direct contact between both sides since 1993.

The visits, together with the release of several Tibetan political prisoners and government tours to Tibet for foreign journalists, including one last week, have prompted hopes of an end to Beijing's decades-long impasse with Tibet's exiled government.

The Dalai Lama said that negotiations with China had been "positive," and stressed that the only way of finding a solution to the Tibet problem was through dialogue.

But he said meaningful negotiations with China had not yet taken place, with Beijing unwilling to make any concessions.

"We have not yet started serious discussions," he said. "For the moment I believe it is very essential to develop confidence. This is the moment to try and build confidence and understanding."

In the meantime the situation in Tibet had not improved, he said. He also reiterated his demand for Tibet to be given a degree of self-rule, the so-called "middle way approach" he has pursued since the 1970s.

"Our position is not seeking independence for Tibet, but genuine autonomy, which the Chinese constitution mentions," he said.

The Dalai Lama fled from Tibet in 1959, after a failed uprising against China's occupation. Since then he has lived in Dharamsala, a hill station in northern India, where hundreds of Tibetan monks wearing maroon robes trek up and down the steep, potholed roads alongside foreign backpackers.

The Dalai Lama said there was "no point in guessing" why the Chinese had decided to talk to him now. But he said communist totalitarian systems had disappeared from most of the world over the past 15 years and that a "confused" China was in a state of flux while aggressively pursuing a Western capitalist model.

"I think the majority of communist party members don't have any genuine belief in communist ideology," he said. "They join the communist party simply for a job.

"In the 1950s when I was in China I found those party members were really dedicated. They were fully convinced of their ideology."

He added: "China is changing. Chinese intellectuals now begin to realize their policy regarding so-called minorities is not working. It's in China's own interest to be critical about the current policy. Therefore I'm very optimistic."

He also gave his strongest hint so far that he believes Tibetans will discover another Dalai Lama after his death and that he expects the Chinese to come up with a rival. He said his reincarnation, the 15th, would be born to a Tibetan family outside China.

"We are still carrying on a struggle," he said. "Under those circumstances my reincarnation will logically be outside in a free country because the very purpose of the reincarnation is to fulfil the task started by the previous life."

In 1995 the Chinese authorities whisked away a six-year-old boy whom the Dalai Lama had identified as the Panchen Lama -- the second most powerful figure in Tibetan Buddhism. He has not been seen since, though Chinese officials insist he is in good health. They tried to install another boy as Panchen Lama.

The Dalai Lama said the Chinese might appoint a successor to him, "a young lucky boy," but Tibetans would reject him. "They will not respect him. He will not have any influence," he said.

He admitted that his death would be a "serious setback" for Tibetans and that things would be "a little chaotic for a few months."

But he pointed out that since the election of Tibet's first prime minister in exile two years ago, he was in a state of "semi-retirement."

"When I die that's permanent retirement," he added jokingly.

Concern over what might happen after the Dalai Lama's death was prompted by rumors last year that he had stomach cancer. He said he did not have cancer but admitted he had been seriously ill with pains in his intestine. He was now in good health, he said.

Earlier this summer he admitted that being Dalai Lama meant that he had "missed out" on sex. He said that while sex was undoubtedly pleasurable, it brought complications in the long run.

"Of course for a short moment people ... are very happy. But generally speaking I think [sex brings] too many ups and downs."

The Dalai Lama said he had avoided sexual desire by embarking on serious study of Buddhist texts from the age of 15 or 16 and by not eating solid food after lunch. Pointing to his groin he said: "So my instrument is useless. It has no purpose, no meaning."

Dalai

“So my instrument is useless. It has no purpose, no meaning.”－the Dalai Lama

“I think the majority of communist party members don’t have any genuine belief in communist ideology,” he said. “They join the communist party simply for job.

“In the 1950s when I was in China I found those party members were really dedicated. They were fully convinced of their ideology.”

He added: “China is changing. Chinese intellectuals now begin to realize their policy regarding socalled minorities is not working. It’s in China’s own interest to be critical about the current policy. Therefore I’m very optimistic.”

He also gave his strongest hint so far that he believes Tibetans will discover another Dalai Lama after his death and that he expects the Chinese to come up with a rival. He said his reincarnation, the 15^th, would be born to a Tibetan family outside China.

“We are still carrying on a struggle,” he said. “Under those circumstances my reincarnation will logically be outside in a free country because the very purpose of the reincarnation is to fulfill the task started by the previous life.”

In 1995 the Chinese authorities whisked away a six-year-old boy whom the Dalai Lama had identified as the Panchen Lama－the second most powerful figure in Tibetan Buddhism. He has not been seen since, though Chinese officials insist he is in good health. They tried to install another boy as Panchen Lama.

The Dalai Lama said the Chinese might appoint a successor to him, “a young lucky boy,” but Tibetans would reject him. “They will not respect him. He will not have any influence,” he said.

He admitted that his death would be a “serious setback” for Tibetans and that things would be “a little chaotic for a few months.”

But he pointed out that since the election of Tibet’s first prime minister in exile two years ago, he was in a state of “semi-retirement.”

“When I die that’s permanent retirement,” he added jokingly.

Concern over what might happen after the Dalai Lama’s death was prompted by rumors last year that he had stomach cancer. He said he did not have cancer but admitted he had been seriously ill with pains in his intestine. He was now in good health, he said.

Earlier this summer he admitted that being Dalai Lama meant that he had “missed out” on sex. He said that while sex was undoubtedly pleasurable, it brought complications in the long run.

“Of course for a short moment people…are very happy. But generally speaking I think [sex brings] too many ups and downs.”

The Dalai Lama said he had avoided sexual desire by embarking on serious study of Buddhist texts from the age of 15 or 16 and by not eating solid food after lunch. Pointing to his groin he said: “So my instrument is useless. It has no purpose, no meaning.”

The fiction that is the Republic of China

By Yeh Hai-yen

`The one and only "Taiwanese faction" is the ultimate foundation on which we can stand and face the world.'

The Hong Kong-based Oriental Daily News on Aug. 26 ran the following headline: "Lee Teng-hui has heart attack, undergoes surgery, pushing for Taiwan independence." It is no surprise that, under Beijing's "one country, two systems" formula, Hong Kong would treat the former president in this way.

But it's chilling to see that such a simple matter was politicized into a piece of news that smacked of schadenfreude.

Promoting Taiwan's independence and having a heart attack are two different matters. Apparently the daily committed a non sequitur in viewing "pushing for Tai-wan's independence" as the cause of the illness. There are plenty of reasons behind its attempt to tarnish independence movements. But this unwise act has exposed the cold-bloodedness and ruthlessness of the "Greater China" mind-set.

Lee Teng Hui's illness is of course not directly related to the 6 million people of Hong Kong. From the perspective of universal humanity, it's all right if they did not show any sympathy. But how come they took this opportunity to scoff at him?

What's even more deplorable is that not long ago, Taiwan Advocates, a think tank chaired by Lee, invited some Hong Kong friends to discuss the territory's future under the "one country, two systems" formula, as well as the prospects for autonomy and democracy in Hong Kong.

Even though the host and guests disagreed on certain mat-ters, such exchanges between Taiwan and Hong Kong are definitely beneficial. Surprisingly, the Hong Kong media still treated Lee in an unfriendly way and reported his illness in an indecorous manner.

This seems to show that the Hong Kong people's "democracy" cannot link to the Taiwanese people's "self-awareness" (discovery and construction of a Taiwanese entity). It also serves as a warning: too much expectation and fantasies about the so-called "three places across the Taiwan Strait" -- China, Hong Kong and Taiwan -- is not conducive to changing the status quo. Neither will it bring in surprise outcomes if one does not make all-out efforts to achieve one's goals and ideals.

God helps those who help themselves. It all depends on one's own sense of pride and dignity.

In addition, the various interpretations of what Lee said that, "the ROC [Republic of China] no longer exists," must be based on accepting the nation's status as a reality. Otherwise, the emotionally charged term "pushing for Taiwan's independence" will rapidly spread here, posing a threat to the 23 million Taiwanese people's national identity.

Never mind pro-unification or pro-independence factions. The one and only "Taiwanese faction" is the ultimate foundation on which we can stand and face the world. At least, we should recognize the reality and respect the land on which we were born and raised.

Obviously, Taiwan is "real" while the ROC is "fictional." At this historic crossroads, one who is willing to work for the community's common prosperity deserves people's respect.

Yeh Hai-yen is director of the department of philosophy at Soochow University.