Making and remaking Tibetan diasporic identities

Social & Cultural Geography, Vol. 4, No. 2, June 2003 Making and remaking Tibetan diasporic identities Serin Houston & Richard Wright Department of Geography, Dartmouth College, Hanover, NH 03755-3571, USA The fifty-year long Chinese occupation of Tibet has resulted in the deaths of hundreds of thousands and has produced a refugee flow that continues today. Although the plight of Tibetans commands international attention, this diaspora remains understudied and undertheorized. To speak to this silence, we follow Patterson and Kelley (2000) and argue that the Tibetan diaspora can be analysed as both a condition and a process. Diaspora as condition emphasizes the structural features of an exile population, such as race, gender, class and religion. Diaspora as process draws attention to lived refugee experiences—the making and remaking of diasporic identities. In the Tibetan diaspora, His Holiness the Dalai Lama holds a central position. Through his global profile, and a transnational nationalist political structure, he creates images of Tibet, builds community and works toward Tibetan self-determination. Within this nationalist frame, Tibetan identities assume a singular, unified and homogeneous form. Further analysis that focuses on individual voices, however, shows how Tibetan diasporic identities are contested, complex and embedded in not one but multiple narratives of struggle. Key words: Tibetan refugees, identity, diaspora, nationalism, transnationalism. Introduction His Holiness Tenzin Gyatso, the current and fourteenth Dalai Lama, commands a pivotal and powerful position in Tibetan communities worldwide. As the reincarnating spiritual and political leader of Tibet since 1642, the roots of his lineage perhaps trace further back in time, to ‘the mythological beginning, for the bodhisattva of compassion, of whom the Dalai Lama is the human incarnation, … is also the progenitor of the Tibetan people’ (Lopez 1998: 184). Contending with contemporary life in exile, while very publicly campaigning for a peaceful, non-violent solution to the Chinese occupation of Tibet, produces a substantial global profile for the present Dalai Lama. Winning the Nobel Peace Prize in 1989 further reinforced his world prominence. Dekyi1 and Norbu, Tibetan refugees in the USA and Nepal, respectively, note that if the Dalai Lama were ‘not in this world then … Tibet [would be] nothing’ and that without him Tibetans would be ‘lost sheep’. Tsetan, currently a Boston resident, adds that the world knows about the Tibetan situation primarily because of His Holiness. She states, ‘he is not only a god and a king, but … he is a fine leader’. ISSN 1464-9365 print/ISSN 1470-1197 online/03/020217–16  2003 Taylor & Francis Ltd DOI: 10.1080/1464936032000079934 218 Serin Houston & Richard Wright Given this status, the Dalai Lama embodies Tibetan culture. He creates images of Tibet, builds community through alliances among resident and exiled Tibetan populations, sustains non-Tibetan and Tibetan Buddhist believers, works toward Tibetan self-determination and functions as the central locus of power and identity within the Tibetan diaspora. He also orchestrates collective and strategic resistance to the Chinese occupation through the diffusion of nationalist ideals within the transnational Tibetan social field. Thus, although scholars frequently position transnationalism in tension with, and as a challenge to, the nationstate (e.g. Werbner 2002: 120; Wright 1997), Tibetan nationalism and nation building operates by necessity as a transnational force. In resisting colonization, the Dalai Lama’s Tibetan transnational nationalism universally defines what it means to be a Tibetan and what the pathway to Tibetan freedom entails. Tibetan transnational nation building occurs when the Dalai Lama stresses the continued evolution of the democratic government-inexile and a future democracy in an autonomous Tibet. Viewing the transnational in this way enables ‘new ways of seeing, theorizing, and practicing the connections between space and politics’ (Hyndman 2000: xvi). We begin this essay with reference to the Dalai Lama because he is the vital figure in the Tibetan diaspora. He symbolizes Tibet; he represents a grand narrative. Yet, he remains just one of hundreds of thousands of Tibetans presently exiled from their homeland and therefore provides one version, albeit powerful and compelling, of what it means to be Tibetan. Numerous other smaller stories of struggles in exile course through the Tibetan diaspora and intermingle with the stereotyped ways that Tibetans are read. These individual accounts of Tibetan identity sometimes link with and reinforce the dominant flow of the Dalai Lama’s nationalism. Other times, these articulations do not align with the grand narrative; instead, they illustrate alternative currents that pluralize Tibetan identities. With this in mind, our attention thus angles away from the singular voice of the Dalai Lama toward the voices of Tibetan refugees in McLeod Ganj, India, Kathmandu, Nepal, and Boston, USA—key places where diaspora is in process, where individuals are making and remaking their lives. We situate these stories within the power and influence of the Dalai Lama and his nationalism. The theoretical and empirical heft of personal refugee stories (Lawson 2000) helps us argue that, despite the model of a Tibetan unified subjectivity, Tibetan diasporic identities are contested, complex and rooted in not one but many narratives of struggle. To provide a framework for understanding contemporary Tibetan refugee identities we divide this essay into two sections, ‘diaspora as condition: exile and belonging’ and ‘diaspora as process: producing identities’. Patterson and Kelley (2000) suggest that diaspora as condition emphasizes the structural features of an exile population, such as race, gender, class and religion. This perspective leads scholars toward privileging a static rendition of diaspora and identity. In contrast, Patterson and Kelley (2000: 11) assert that diaspora as process draws attention to lived refugee experiences where diaspora is ‘always in the making’. As process, refugees can formulate and reformulate identities; in other words, the condition of diaspora can be disrupted and remade. In terms of Tibetan exiles, analytical emphasis on diaspora as condition treats refugees and refugee experiences as undifferentiated. The resultant fixed readings of Tibetan exile lives figure deeply in transnational nationalism. This transnational nationalism also draws on Tibetans’ shared investment in Buddhist principles. Religion for most Tibetans is not just a Remaking Tibetan diasporic identities weekly gathering or the recitation of a particular text. Instead, Buddhism embodies the interworkings of the community, infusing cultural mores and daily life practices (Warner 1998: 9). As communities that live religion, Tibetans are already organized around common ideals. Adding political weight to these connections is part of establishing nationalist unity. To examine how Tibetan nationalism both creates a sense of transnational belonging and stems from the Chinese colonial occupation that caused exile, the first half of the essay starts with a brief recent history of Tibet. We then explore how the Dalai Lama and the Tibetan government-in-exile perpetuate particular transnational national narratives through mechanisms such as invented traditions (Hobsbawm 1984) and the imagining of communities (Anderson 1991). Tibet’s colonization, and nationalist resistance to it, sets the stage for our analysis of diasporic Tibetan identities. Conceptualizing the diaspora as process elucidates the continual creation of composite Tibetan refugee identities and spaces. Thus, our second main section centres attention on individual and group practices unfolding on the ground at the local community scale. We focus on specific social actors, their stories and their methods for resisting cultural extermination and assimilation in specific places. For instance, ‘Free Tibet’ politics shape daily life in McLeod Ganj, the current residence of the Dalai Lama and the government-in-exile. Nationalist sentiment courses through this settlement and provides both purpose and contradiction within people’s lives. In contrast, economic factors frame Tibetan refugees’ identities both within Kathmandu and in the broader transnational social field associated with this place. Boston produces another series of negotiations as Tibetan exiles struggle to take advantage of educational opportunities in the city, earn money to remit and act as cultural ambas- 219 sadors, all the while contending with an extraordinary pressure to assimilate. We use the voices of the individual refugees in these places to texture and disrupt stereotyped conceptions of Tibetan identities and culture as proffered by Tibetan nationalism. This research thus departs from the usual emphasis in American Tibetology toward classical Buddhist scriptures and instead addresses particularities of the contemporary diaspora.2 A multi-site ethnography This ethnography primarily draws upon participant observation and extensive semi-structured interviews with Tibetans living in Kathmandu, McLeod Ganj and Boston conducted by the first author between June and December 1999. Since she generally found interviewees through a snowball technique (in Nepal), had a letter of introduction from the Tibetan government-in-exile (in India) or knew a leader in the refugee community (in the USA), fieldwork depended on balancing the trust created through contacts and the assumptions about white, university-educated researchers. Perceived shared outlooks on the Tibetan freedom cause also framed interviews. Many interviewees expected her to replicate nationalist sentiments in her work because of her acknowledged participation in ‘Free Tibet’ activism. At the same time, interviewees often felt compelled to tell their story for political reasons, using her as a medium for transmitting concern about the colonization of Tibet to the academic and Western worlds. Interviewees included Tibetans born and raised in exile as well as the recently escaped. A few informants were studying for advanced degrees while others were illiterate. Some of these Tibetans worked for nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) or the 220 Serin Houston & Richard Wright Tibetan government-in-exile, others in restaurants and shops and still others ran their own businesses. Interviewees represented ages from the late teens to mid-sixties. In total, the first author interviewed twenty-seven men and twenty-six women. A translator assisted with six of the interviews. Although we realize the potential shortcomings and problematic nature of translated interviews, the ability to speak with non-English-speakers provided insight into the stories of newly arrived refugees. The ethnographic ‘field’ in this work comprised changing physical and emotional spaces, as well as transnational and local contexts. At times, the built form of a refugee community geographically delimited the ‘field’, notable in the Boudhnath neighbourhood of Kathmandu. Other times the first author and interviewees moved between different places, from work to home to the temple, constructing numerous ‘fields’ of refugee space. Still other instances involved conversations about family members located on other continents. This geographical variability enables our methodology to scale and spatialize Burawoy’s extended case method (1991). The extended case method holds that the ‘micro’ (ethnographic accounts) can be used to understand macro-level patterns and that broader external forces shape local contexts (cf. Tölölyan 1996). Diaspora as condition: exile and belonging The present Chinese occupation of Tibet is the latest manifestation of a territorial and ideological contestation that dates back a thousand years. This current chapter began in 1949 when tens of thousands of troops from the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) occupied the independent country of Tibet in the name of unifying the ‘motherland’. The PLA then took over the Kashag (the Tibetan government polity) and installed a puppet government. This colonization systematically attacks most aspects of Tibetan people’s lives, from criminalizing religious activity (expressing devotion to the Dalai Lama, for example, often results in imprisonment) to forcing agricultural settlement upon nomadic pastoralists to mandating Chinese-language and Communist political education classes within the schools and monasteries. The initial zeal of the occupation, compounded by the Cultural Revolution, also led to the destruction of many monastic structures and their religious artifacts (Shakya 2002). Currently, the Chinese insist that should the Dalai Lama return he has to repent for his alleged separatist activities and assume Chinese citizenship. More insidiously, Chinese nationals almost outnumber Tibetans in Tibet’s capital Lhasa, collectively building on five decades of occupation and demographic change to purposefully separate the contemporary generation of Tibetans from their cultural heritage (Gifford 2002a, 2002b). In total, over a million Tibetans have been killed as a direct result of the occupation and at least 130,000 refugees are scattered around the world. Although escape from Tibet typically involves an arduous journey over the Himalayas, and life in exile demands reconfigurations of daily patterns, the degradation of Tibetan culture and livelihood generates a steady flow of refugees (approximately 5,000 per year, according to the Director of the Refugee Reception Centre in McLeod Ganj). The genesis of current Tibetan diasporic nationalism finds root in resisting Chinese colonialism and, as a result, incites a strong transnational account of Tibetan belonging. The Dalai Lama, in concert with institutions that he helped create, sustains narratives of flight and solidarity. Exiles hear from him that they are unified and thus create ways of being so. As Younten, one of our interviewees now Remaking Tibetan diasporic identities living in Boston, explains, ‘[i]t’s a kind of sad history, but if you see another Tibetan … it’s kind of like a connection. We have the same history, same problem, and same goal. So, it’s kind of like a big family, all the Tibetans; no matter where you are, it’s all like a big family’. Incorporating the rhetoric of solidarity into an emotional space of connection weaves thick strands of transnational nationalism through refugee communities. Nation building The Dalai Lama serves as the Tibetan leader and global emissary. In this capacity, he founded the parliamentary Tibetan government-in-exile—the Commission of Tibetan People’s Deputies—soon after he escaped to McLeod Ganj, India in the late 1950s. The popularly elected representatives for the parliament drafted a constitution in the 1960s. They now meet in annual session and enact legislation on behalf of the transnational Tibetan community. The Dalai Lama is the head of state for the three branches—legislative, judiciary and executive—of this democracy. Structured in this way, the government serves as living practice for imagining a future, autonomous democracy in Tibet. Ngawang, a government employee living in McLeod, states that ‘[r]ight now we are practicing democracy in India itself so that when we are in Tibet we will have democracy and we will not stay [the] same’. The development of democracy requires participation and allegiance to the national project. Tashi, another McLeod government employee, speaks to this expectation: young people ‘are brought up under this standard line that when you grow up you have to work for the government’. Youdon, a female volunteer in a McLeod government office, puts it differently. ‘It’s a small way to serve our govern- 221 ment. It’s good to serve our government, community and society’. The Tibetan diasporic democracy, with elected officials, committees and a constitution, is similar in many ways to other democratic nation-states; yet the unelected and uncontested political and religious leadership of the Dalai Lama renders Tibetan exile governance unique. The government-in-exile effectively organizes the global diffusion of information about Tibet. It publishes quarterly reports that include updates on Tibet and the freedom movement and proclamations commemorating uprisings or religious holidays. While it distributes these reports to non-Tibetan supporters, it also sends them to auxiliary government offices in Kathmandu, New York, Washington DC, Zurich, Tokyo and London. These offices then pass the information on to Tibetan settlement officers (similar to town mayors) and the presidents of local Tibetan associations. Subsequently, these people disperse the information through a variety of formats, primarily community meetings, e-mails and direct telephone calls. The settlement officers and association presidents also organize the collection of taxes for the Tibetan government-in-exile. For Boston Tibetans: ‘we have … a tax to pay to [the] exile government. It’s mandatory as a Tibetan … So each year it is $100 or $96 … That’s worth quite a bit in India and that helps [the] exile government for education … and for new-coming Tibetans and for older people’ (Younten). Nationalism When Tibetan refugees invoke ‘traditions’ within their lives strategies of Tibetan nationalism interface with practices on the ground. Hobsbawm argues that traditions provide a necessary link to, and an understanding of, 222 Serin Houston & Richard Wright history; they are ‘a process of formalization and ritualization, characterized by reference to the past’ (Hobsbawm 1984: 4). Tibetan traditions instill a collective sensibility and an accessible, uniform definition of Tibetan identity. Movement into exile forces the reinvention of traditions. Some of these traditions witness subtle transformations while others are consciously reconstructed for their political utility. Through their position of authority, the Dalai Lama and the government-in-exile become primary authors of these reworkings. Transformations in marital practices exemplify a tradition that explicitly assumed a new form in exile due to the appropriation of different value systems. Lhakpa, a mother of two in Boston, explains, ‘in old culture [in Tibet] we have one husband who can have three, four wives, and that is bad. Now we know people can fall in love with only one’. Polygamy solicited negative reactions from non-Tibetan communities. Thus, Tibetans abandoned that tradition and adopted monogamy in nationalist rhetoric and in practice. Now, monogamy is a defining characteristic of Tibetan cultural mores and Tibetan marital patterns—even in Tibet. Life in exile not only reinterprets the meaning of some traditions, but it also establishes entirely new ones as well, such as the commemoration of the 87,000 Tibetans killed during the 10 March 1959 uprising in Lhasa, Tibet.3 In McLeod Ganj, this ceremony features a statement from the Dalai Lama, a performance of Tibetan folk dances and a rendition of the Tibetan national anthem (written in exile), all activities that foster the perception of a universal identity (Kolas 1996: 57). Tibetans in Tibet cannot publicly recognize this massacre; it is too politically sensitive. Thus, despite creation in exile, this tradition holds significant importance; it defines Tibetan culture in opposition to that of the occupiers. Such tactics of resistance to colonial exploitation underpin the hegemonic discourse of Tibetan nationalism. Nationalism flattens identities in the name of unity, to the extent that interviewees (who varied by class, age, sex, marital status, etc.) often rehearsed the rhetoric of a singular Tibetan identity, comprised of language, religion and cultural expressions. The nationalist project even tends to submerge previously important regional and religious sectarian affiliations (Norbu 1992). Prior to 1950 and the exodus into exile, regional identities served as the important basis for individual definition. Lopez (1998: 197) writes, ‘[t]here was strong identification with local mountains and valleys and their deities, with local lamas, monasteries, and chieftains, with local (and mutually unintelligible) dialects’. Topden, a middle-aged man in Boston, makes this clear: In pre-1959, politically, the Tibetans, even the Tibetan government, treated Kham and Amdo as separate regions … So, at that time, the people visiting Lhasa from Kham and Amdo they used to say, ‘I’m going to Tibet,’ not realizing that they are also Tibetans, right? So, therefore this regionalism was very, very conspicuous but when we came into exile … people slowly forgot those things and the younger generation was brought up in an atmosphere when we are only taught Tibet, not Kham, Amdo, Utsang. So, therefore now the Tibetans are more integrated and consolidated and unified than it was in 1959. So, I think this is one of the most important work[s] done by His Holiness in the Tibetan history. Similarly, Tibetans used to identify with the Nyingma, Kargyu, Sakya, Geluk or Bon religious sect. Bon is a remnant of the shamanistic religion that prevailed in Tibet prior to the promulgation of Buddhism (Avedon 1984). Now, Bons are categorized as Tibetans, and consequently Buddhists by association, as panTibetan Buddhism is the diasporic norm Remaking Tibetan diasporic identities (Norbu 1992: 10). Although his lineage is Geluk, the Dalai Lama himself signifies a coalescence of religious sects, as he is now the ‘ecumenical head’ for all Tibetans (Lopez 1998: 191). His Holiness the Dalai Lama says: I am against the establishment of any institution which might directly or indirectly promote conflicts amongst our people or tend to foster sectional or local interests at the expense of the national interest, for our primary purpose must always be that we should be one unified people. (1962: 232) The exterior threat of cultural extermination forces Tibetans in exile to re-imagine themselves as united and pan-Buddhist, which paves over Tibet’s fractious religious and regional past. Chinese colonization caused exile, thus fostering the process of creating absolute belonging through the narratives of transnational nationalism and nation building in the Tibetan diaspora. In Khetsun’s words, ‘I lost my country, but I shouldn’t lose this identity.’ Diaspora as process: producing identities The political project of freeing Tibet is an unambiguous collective goal. Essentialized categories of language, culture, religious affiliation and even race provide ready building blocks and templates for this objective. Such homogeneous descriptions of culture and identity do not necessarily correlate, however, with the attributes of actual Tibetan refugee life. On the ground, Tibetans put into practice individual performances of identity that may disrupt tidy, stereotyped scripts and remake the collective Tibetan-ness conditioned by forces of nationalism and nation building. To understand this process, we take place seriously; it ‘alerts us to the contextualities and contingencies of power, identity and community’ (Delaney 2002: 10). Daily decisions, work choices, 223 political freedoms and identities interrelate with location; context fuels presentations of the self. McLeod Ganj,4 India The Indian government designated McLeod Ganj, an old British hill station, a Tibetan refugee camp in 1959. Now, over 20,000 Tibetan refugees live in this town, the home of the Dalai Lama, the Tibetan government-inexile and the central offices of seven NGOs. The Tibetan school system in exile also started in McLeod. The concentration of these institutional headquarters establishes McLeod as the heart of political activity for the Tibetan diaspora. A resident in McLeod describes the settlement as the place where ‘you feel more like a Tibetan and you are mixed up with more Tibetan traditions and culture’ (Thinley). Much like other Tibetan refugee settlements in India, McLeod Ganj is situated in a secluded area. Placing the Tibetan refugees in remote regions such as this isolates them and makes them less accessible to international dignitaries and political figures. Through this geographic distancing, the Indian government balances the immediate needs of the Tibetans while maintaining cordial relations with China. The Indian government also earns much needed tourism money from the visitors who trek to these refugee communities. Distancing occurs in other respects too. For instance, the Indian government does not recognize the Tibetan government-in-exile, even though it is located within the country. This mix of politics leaves the Tibetan governmentin-exile with uncertain powers. Furthermore, India grants few Tibetans citizenship; most refugees who arrived before or during the 1980s have a refugee certificate or an identity certificate, both of which require annual re- 224 Serin Houston & Richard Wright newal. For recently escaped Tibetans, however, these documents are not options because India no longer recognizes Tibetans as refugees legally residing in India. In addition to not being able to own property, participate in the Indian political system, hold certain jobs or travel easily outside the country, recent refugees live with the constant fear of potential imprisonment or deportation: ‘[t]here is no security for us. For me, I always feel like a refugee. I never feel stable’ (Dhondup). Denchen, a student at the performing arts school, adds that Tibetans know ‘that we are “R” with a big, capital “R” on our foreheads … We are Refugees’. The uncertainty of life in exile instigates political action under the auspices of the Dalai Lama, the Tibetan government-in-exile and Tibetan non-governmental organizations.5 The NGO Gu-Chu-Sum, for example, assists expolitical prisoners find housing, employment and education. It also publishes the testimonials of ex-political prisoners, stages dramatic productions about Tibet and organizes protests in India (http://www.guchusum.org/). The sheer size of the Tibetan Youth Congress (TYC), however, best illustrates the prominent position NGOs have in both McLeod Ganj and Tibetan consciousness worldwide. With over 15,000 members and seventy-one regional offices in ten different countries, the TYC extends around the world to be ‘more a movement, rather than an organization’ (Thinley). The TYC advocates for complete Tibetan independence and self-governance through protests and general distribution of information (http:// www.tibetanyouthcongress.org/). At the Human Rights Convention in Geneva in 1998, for instance, three TYC members conducted a hunger strike to garner international attention. The TYC’s call for a return to independent statehood (as in 1912–19496) contrasts with the Dalai Lama’s ‘Middle Way Approach’, which envisions a self-governing autonomous region where Tibetans determine all domestic and cultural affairs and the Chinese assume control of foreign and defence affairs. The Tibetan Women’s Association (TWA) is also bound up in Tibetan nationalism so its public identity as an organization exhibits ideological negotiations. TWA’s stated goals are ‘to raise public awareness of the abuses faced by Tibetan women in Chinese-occupied Tibet’ and to feature ‘the contributions Tibetan women [make] towards the preservation and promotion of the distinct religion, culture, and identity of the Tibetan people’ (http:// www.tibet.com/Women/twa.html, p. 1). These goals, however, often become secondary to the larger nationalist cause. Kunchok, a TWA employee, rationalizes this and comments that ‘His Holiness has given equality’ to Tibetan people so gender requires less attention. In contrast, the nationalist cause depends on the dedicated action of each Tibetan. Accordingly, Kunchok holds that TWA is engaged in ‘fighting for our country’, rather than struggling for women’s rights. Her statement epitomizes the process of subordinating women’s issues while privileging nationalist ideologies and platforms. In Tibet, women suffer extreme human rights abuses in the form of forced sterilizations, abortions and genital mutilation (Kerr 1991). Within a nationalist frame, these issues represent the genocide and oppression of the collective rather than attacks on individual women. The multi-layered politics in McLeod play into people’s daily life decisions and identities. As a project leader at a local NGO, Dolma, for instance, is keenly aware of political and community pressures. She states, ‘[i]f I try to be too hip or too vogue people say “Uh-uh, you’re a Tibetan, try to remember that.” It’s a constant reminder to me’. Her comment speaks to the power of a nationalist imagination that portrays Tibet as an ancient land replete with old Remaking Tibetan diasporic identities traditions and ways of life. If Dolma acts too ‘modern’ she directly challenges such portraits. Yet, her contemporary sensibilities do not necessarily correspond to this political and social prerogative. These internal and external pressures place Dolma in a ‘constant fix’. She questions, whether I should go to the monastery in a pair of trousers because I want to be there to be quiet, to hear the chants of the monks … Or, I can’t go there because you’re not supposed to go there in trousers. If you’re a Tibetan you have to go in chupa7 … Out of respect I would go there in my traditional dress to show my respect but sometimes I’m in the market and I’m in a pair of trousers and I suddenly feel I want to go to the monastery. ‘Oh, I can’t go because you’re not supposed to go in trousers or people will think bad about you.’ These are the things you encounter every day. Whether you should hang out with non-Tibetan friends because of what the community will say or because you want to … It’s a choice every day when you dress, to when you meet people, to when you want to say something. A lot of times people don’t say the things they want to because they are scared about being attacked afterwards for what they say. Dolma touches upon a number of important themes here: community expectations, concern about external perceptions of Tibetans, and generational and gender differences. Few Tibetan men still wear traditional clothes. As a woman, however, and in response to pressures to maintain and present Tibetans ‘accurately’, Dolma modifies her clothing according to gender attitudes. Dolma has many non-Tibetan friends who question her about her Tibetan heritage. Though instructive for Dolma, spending time with non-Tibetans is viewed by many as a step toward abandoning one’s culture, assimilating into a modern outside world and inviting too much ambivalence into personal lives. Dolma is steeped in nationalist activity 225 and sentiment because of her location and employment context. She acutely feels her position as a refugee woman and knows that she wants to help the freedom cause. Yet, she also tries to integrate all that she has learned from an Indian university and non-Tibetan friends into a more nuanced conception of personal Tibetanness. She finds opposition to this process as such overlays threaten notions of Tibetan purity. Kathmandu, Nepal Approximately 11,000 Tibetans live in Kathmandu, a city of roughly 1.1 million.8 Kathmandu is the home of many wealthy Tibetan elite (the majority of whom are involved in the luxury handmade carpet business), hundreds of newly arrived, impoverished, refugees, Tibetan government officials, monks and nuns and small shop keepers who collectively try to piece together a vital connection to their homeland. Tibetan refugees have settled mainly in four neighbourhoods around Kathmandu’s centre: Jawalakhel, Boudhnath, Lazimpat and Swayombhunath. Together, they comprise the largest Tibetan refugee settlement in Nepal. Established by the Swiss Red Cross in 1960, Jawalakhel was the initial refugee camp for the first 1,000 Tibetans who escaped after the 1959 massacres. Although there are now concrete houses instead of tents and Tibetans themselves govern the community, Jawalakhel still maintains many of the facilities originally provided by the Red Cross (namely the same preschool, kindergarten, elementary and middle schools and health clinic). Employing approximately 500 refugees, the Jawalakhel Handicraft Centre, the oldest Tibetan owned and operated carpet factory in Nepal, is the primary economic enterprise in Jawalakhel. One hundred and ninety-seven Tibetan families, about 1,500 226 Serin Houston & Richard Wright people, lived in Jawalakhel in 1999 (Tibetan Government-in-Exile 1999). Boudhnath contains at least twenty-seven Tibetan monasteries and nunneries, the Boudhnath stupa,9 numerous schools and many Tibetan shops, guesthouses and restaurants. Boudhnath is singular in its structural form as the gates, walls and row houses flanking the stupa designate physical separation from the city of Kathmandu proper. This boundary illustrates two distinct trends visible in many Tibetan exile communities. First, Tibetans often form enclaves separate from native populations to sustain and maintain cultural difference and integrity. Secondly, sacred spaces and Buddhist icons, such as stupas, not only serve religious purposes but also function as places for establishing social networks, enacting Tibetan identities and fostering cultural empowerment. Many international embassies are in Lazimpat, and unlike other neighbourhoods, this settlement consists primarily of Tibetan government-in-exile officials and their families. These representatives rotate every few years between refugee communities in India and Nepal. Lazimpat also boasts a few upscale Tibetan-owned hotels that cater to an international elite. Swayombhunath gains recognition for the Monkey Temple stupa (a holy site for Hindus and Buddhists alike) and the Tibet Refugee Reception Centre. This centre is the first stop for newly arrived refugees fleeing Tibet as it supplies food, lodging and medical attention free of charge. The centre also funds transportation to McLeod Ganj for refugees to receive the blessings of the Dalai Lama. These four refugee communities evince stark class demarcations. The gap between the classes primarily manifests itself in consumption patterns, lifestyle choices and land and property holdings, rather than educational attainment. The wealthy carpet factory owners often have personal drivers, household help, estates and new cars. Class differences express themselves in other ways, too. Many longstanding refugees in Kathmandu claim, for instance, that the mind-sets of newly arrived refugees frequently deviate from those of Tibetans acculturated to life in exile. Karma, an upper-class woman born in exile, explains that the newly arrived have contended with Chinese indoctrination and the harsh realities of life in an occupied country. She comments that the refugees are ‘very crude’ and ‘willing to pull out their knives and stab you!’ The conduct of the newly arrived bothers higherclass Tibetans as the actions of one person often typecast the entire group. Therefore, to preserve status and maintain positive business relations with non-Tibetans, relatively settled refugees strive to monitor (or at least separate themselves from) the others. Such obvious actions refute the message of community solidarity as espoused by nationalism. Regional geopolitics contour possible life patterns for Tibetan refugees in Kathmandu. Dhakpa, a middle-aged man, explains, ‘we definitely know that Nepal is very small … and China, of course, is very big … Nepal is like a small boulder … squeezed between two big boulders [India and China]’. The physical size of Nepal and the politically tenuous relations with China result in the delicate balance of providing amnesty for Tibetans (to the disapproval of the Chinese government) and maintaining viable economic and political links with China (often to the detriment of the Tibetans). To meet these two objectives, the Nepalese government currently prohibits ‘Free Tibet’ politics and activism, while generally not reporting escaping Tibetans to Chinese authorities. The Nepalese government also offers Tibetans tremendous economic incentives to steer them away from politics. This tactic in Remaking Tibetan diasporic identities turn helps support the national Nepali economy through taxation of Tibetan enterprises. Karma represents the outcome of the Nepali government’s strategies. She is relatively politically inactive and extremely entrepreneurial. Having founded and managed an outdoor trekking store, carpet factory and luxury hotel, Karma attributes much of her family’s success to the economic potential provided by the government. She notes, ‘[w]e have to be very grateful to the Nepalese government for letting us have the freedom to do business here’. Such a strong economic focus has other ramifications as well. To do business in Nepal, for example, many Tibetans have become Nepali citizens. A manager at a carpet factory, Namgyal, explains that citizenship is ‘not meant for renouncing his [sic] country but to make do with business … [If we] don’t have citizenship we cannot open bank accounts, we cannot go outside Nepal’, all pre-requisites for local and international business. Tsewang, a bookstore owner, however, points out that citizenship is just a card and one’s ‘inside is Tibetan … speak Tibetan, clothes Tibetan, everything we do is Tibetan’. Still, formally, Tibetans lose their political identity as refugee as soon as they acquire citizenship. For those not involved in business, Nepali citizenship assumes much less importance. An employee of the Tibetan government-in-exile Nepal branch office emphatically notes, ‘[i]f someone offers me citizenship, I’ll say “no, thank you, I am a refugee” ’ (Yangzom). Nationalism holds Tibetan communities to be inclusive; yet in Kathmandu, the spatial dispersion of Tibetans and reduced leisure time due to the economic incentives diminishes the focus on community and culturally based activities. Dhakpa notes that in Kathmandu ‘Tibetan people [are] more busy’ than Tibetans in other communities. Indeed, although one might ‘have the spirit within you, you want to 227 be a good Tibetan … at the same time, you have your daily needs. You need to earn a livelihood and you have to support your family … between the two you find this is a bit more important and so you do neglect a bit on the issues side’ (Kunsang). Thus, Dolkar, a traditional music teacher, states, ‘[h]ere is not a community’. Boston, USA The majority of the 400 or so Tibetans currently residing in Boston arrived after 1992 when the USA granted resident alien status to 1,000 Tibetans through a special act of Congress. The original visa holders were selected by lottery from Tibetan communities in India and Nepal. These Tibetans had various skills, but all had to be proficient in English. Although they came as immigrants, not refugees, they were treated like refugees in one sense. Upon arrival, the US government moved the Tibetans to twenty-three resettlement sites scattered throughout the country (Boston is one example) and placed them with families who assisted them in finding employment. A woman working in sales reports, ‘[i]t was a dream for anyone to come here because ordinary Tibetans really couldn’t come to the United States’ (Tsetan). Currently, family reunification, relative political freedom and economic opportunity fuels most US-bound migrations. As a result, and despite that most work is in relatively low-paying service jobs, relatives in Asia have come to rely on remittances from Tibetans in the USA. Ironically, money remitted from the USA produces new class differences in refugee communities in Asia. The transnational aspects of these economic transactions underpin the remaking of identities through diasporic processes. In the USA, Tibetans no longer live in ex- 228 Serin Houston & Richard Wright clusive enclaves with access to Tibetan religious or educational establishments. English language dominates the schools and workplaces and immersion in a capitalist society invites criticism and claims of Americanization from Tibetans who remain in Asia. Despite these factors, Tibetans point out the close community connections experienced in Boston, although this vibrancy is often attributed to the community organizers who relocated from McLeod Ganj to Boston. ‘They are experienced, they know how to get the crowd going’ (Tenzing). Ngodup, a high school student born in exile, states that Tibetans gather and ‘develop a sense of community here and sense of support and a sense of guiding the kids to the right direction … I think our community is very strong. I like it that way’. For Jigme, a recently relocated refugee, this community camaraderie makes him feel that ‘everything is [in] just the right place’ when living in the USA. Tempa, a business owner, outlines others benefits of life in the USA stating: you are more exposed to a lot of things here. Your mind is … broadened … You see a lot of things. Especially in America they have so many ethnic groups, it’s not only whites … So, you kind of value your own culture more when you see [others]. Then, of course, there is the economic side. Here you have the opportunity, even if it’s entry level, at least you can go and earn something … If you work hard you can get something and you can help your relatives. For others, life in the USA elicits a different response: ‘materially, [it’s] very prosperous out here. Psychologically, it’s a hell out here, very stressful country. The more you live in it, the more you sink in to it. It’s like quick sand’ (Tsetan). These worries and depictions of life in the USA are not unfounded. Dekyi suggests that her children are becoming more American in ‘the way they talk’. She adds, ‘[t]hey are forgetting about their respect. They are very short-tempered, so mean … They are changing behaviors and I am afraid’. Furthermore, fairly assimilated Tibetan children in the USA reportedly ‘call themselves Tib-niggers’ (Ngodup). Even though some Tibetans harbour doubts about US society, most apply for citizenship if possible. The right to vote opens new doors for ‘Free Tibet’ political activism; ‘one vote counts, it can make a difference’ (Thubten). Citizenship also provides the opportunity to travel and secure a locatable identity: I can travel to any part of the country and say I’m a Tibetan-American … Not that we are necessarily proud to be called an American but just because you have a label and an identity, you develop a love for this country because this country has given you a status that you did not have because China has taken your own country. In that way I’m very grateful I could get the citizenship of this country. (Tsetan) Dawa, a young woman, adds that citizenship removes Tibetans from the liminal status of ‘refugee’. She states, ‘I think many of us want to settle somewhere. Otherwise we have neither this nor that. I think we have to have something. If we don’t have our freedom back we have to have some citizenship somewhere so that we don’t have to stand in the middle’. In contrast, other Tibetans assert that US citizenship represents movement away from the nationalist conception of a ‘pure’ Tibetan identity. In particular, Tibetans in Asia claim that life in the USA changes religious, linguistic and social practices and adulterates Buddhist moral and ethical beliefs; ‘[g]oing to the States within two generations you are American. It’s not like staying in India. In India you can stay Tibetan. It is accepted in this country that you maintain your total cultural, social and ethnic identity. India, in that sense, allows you’ (Passang). Karma, a woman in Kathmandu, adds that US Tibetans do not worry about the politi- Remaking Tibetan diasporic identities cal situation or take advantage of their access to free speech. Instead, she claims that they ‘couldn’t be less bothered. They are in their own world, which is a real pity. These people, I don’t think they can call themselves Tibetan’. Conclusions The allure of Tibet has captured the Western (and to an extent the Asian) imagination for years. The recent colonization and subsequent human rights and cultural abuses have garnered significant international attention. The occupation has also instigated a process of cultural revitalization in exile. As part of this, sacred practices and offerings (such as the intricate sand paintings called mandalas) are moving into the secular, non-Buddhist world. Such changes provoke questions about the popular consumption of religion, the political utility of sharing cultural beliefs, the efforts to preserve an archetype of ‘real’ Tibetan religious practice, the impacts of diaspora and modernity on indigenous groups and the re-inscriptions of meanings in people’s lives. Much like other Tibetan Buddhist ritual art forms, mandalas convey lessons of ephemerality and non-attachment through their creation and immediate disassembly. The deities represented in each mandala embody particular Buddhist philosophies, while the process of making and dismantling this offering teaches nonattachment. This impermanence, however, is coupled with iconographic standardization. Monks (and increasingly nuns) learn the artistic and religious guidelines for hundreds of different mandalas through memorizing the doctrinal texts that explain the individual symbols, colours and significances of each offering. This simultaneous belief in prescribed artistic form and impermanence corresponds with Tibetan identities in the diaspora. As much as identities 229 are unfixed, the political imperative of resisting colonization pressures Tibetans in the diaspora to nationalistically define an authentic core Tibetan culture, attempt to construct pure identities and codify parameters for the performances of both the individual and the collective. Mandalas are maps of the cosmos and a representation of a deity’s celestial home. The centre of a mandala depicts the deity in aniconic or anthropomorphic form. This is the axis mundi, the link between the human world and the celestial realms of transworld deities. All other icons and symbols radiate from this centre. By analogy, His Holiness physically embodies this nexus between human and deity worlds. In place of the mandala ‘house’ for a deity, Tibet symbolizes the sacred home of the Dalai Lama and the imagined Tibetan community. A passionate desire to return home figures deeply in the Dalai Lama’s ambitions for his people. This yearning is also captured in the idea of diaspora as condition; a central force that helps forge a uniform, collective transnational nationalism. Although such sentiment has considerable utility and power, we know that the Tibetan diaspora is also a process involving the making and remaking of Tibetan identities. By wrestling with the questions of what it means to be a Tibetan refugee in different exile communities we find that context influences the production of identities, which are, in turn, heterogeneous. Indeed, life stories in each community not only always make reference to His Holiness and the Tibetan homeland, but they also depart from nationalist rhetoric to tell their own complicated tales of Tibetan diasporic identities. They invoke a repertoire of tactics of resistance to cultural extermination and assimilation as well. For instance, either choosing citizenship or choosing officially to remain a Tibetan refugee presents individuals 230 Serin Houston & Richard Wright with different means of access to political power. Specifically, refugee identity affords long-term international recognition whereas citizenship (of Nepal, the USA or India) facilitates an easier everyday life. Each title grants types of identity benefits and restrictions associated with different axes of power. Analysing how exiles weigh these and other options provides insights into how diasporic Tibetans negotiate their lives. Theorizing the diaspora as condition and process sheds light on complexities within the Tibetan diaspora. Yet, this is just one perspective. Future research might engage with theories of performativity and mimesis to more fully untangle reflexive, paradoxical and contradictory identity practices. Performativity theories can help make sense of the imbricated power discourses that feed into multi-dimensional identity performances. We also urge future research to expressly consider the metaphorical interpretation of return within a diaspora (Tölölyan 1991). In this view, re-turn does not invoke a physical return to a homeland, but rather a repeated revisiting to the concept of homeland via texts, imagery and social and religious rituals. How this plays out over time and space may provide vital insight into diasporic identities and lived refugee experiences. the Presidential Scholar fund and the Department of Geography Notes 1 The first names used in this essay are pseudonyms. 2 We applaud previous scholarship, particularly the work of Frank Korom (1997), which strives to establish critical ‘Tibetan Diaspora Studies’. We hope that our analyses of Tibetan refugees will contribute to this literature. 3 This is a People’s Liberation Army statistic. 4 McLeod Ganj is the name for this Tibetan community but many people also refer to McLeod as Dharamsala. Dharamsala is the name of a neighbouring Indian town approximately two miles from McLeod. 5 The Tibetan Youth Congress, Tibetan Women’s Association, Amnye Machen Institute, Gu-Chu-Sum, the National Democratic Party of Tibet, Choloka Sum (‘Three Provinces [of Tibet]’) and The Centre for Human Rights and Democracy are Tibetan NGOs. 6 Investigations conducted by British and other international groups confirmed that between 1912 and 1949 ‘Tibet was … an independent state’ (van Walt van Praag 1991: 60). 7 Chupas are traditional Tibetan attire. 8 This is a 2001 estimate from Nepal Research ⬍ http:// www.nepalresearch.com/society/population.htm ⬎ . 9 Stupas are believed to enshrine some piece of Lord Buddha, perhaps a toenail or hair, and therefore are considered sacred sites and important pilgrimage destinations. References Acknowledgements Special thanks to the many Tibetans who took time to share their stories. Thanks also go to Cindi Katz, Alison Mountz, Ned Houston and the three anonymous referees for their extensive comments on a previous version of this paper. This research was made possible by grants from Dartmouth College’s Dean of Faculty and Raynolds Family, the John Sloan Dickey Center for International Understanding, Anderson, B. (1991) Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origin and Spread of Nationalism. New York: Verso. Avedon, J. (1984) In Exile from the Land of Snows: The Dalai Lama and Tibet Since the Chinese Conquest. New York: Harper Perennial. Burawoy, M. (1991) The extended case method, in Burawoy, M. and Burton, A. (eds) Ethnography Unbound: Power and Resistance in the Modern Metropolis. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press, pp. 271–287. Delaney, D. (2002) The space that race makes, The Professional Geographer 54(1): 6–14. Gifford, R. (2002a) Tibet, NPR: All Things Considered, 30 Remaking Tibetan diasporic identities Sept. ⬍ http://search.npr.org/cf/cmn/segment display. cfm?segID ⫽ 150871 ⬎ (last visited 4 October 2002). Gifford, R. (2002b) China holds talks on Tibet’s future, NPR: Morning Edition, 16 Sept. ⬍ http://search.npr. org/cf/cmn/segment display.cfm?segID ⫽ 150097 ⬎ (last visited 4 October 2002). Gu-Chu-Sum Movement of Tibet ⬍ http://www. guchusum.org/ ⬎ (last visited 6 September 2002). His Holiness the Dalai Lama (1962) My Land and My People. New York: McGraw-Hill Book Company. Hobsbawm, E. (1984) Introduction: inventing traditions, in Hobsbawm, E. and Ranger, T. (eds) The Invention of Tradition. New York: Cambridge University Press, pp. 1–15. Hyndman, J. (2000) Managing Displacement: Refugees and the Politics of Humanitarianism. Minneapolis, MN: University of Minnesota Press. Kerr, B. (1991) Tibetans under the knife, in Kelly, P., Bastian, G. and Aiello, P. (eds) The Anguish of Tibet. Berkeley, CA: Parallax Press, pp. 96–109. Kolas, A. (1996) Tibetan nationalism: the politics of religion, Journal of Peace Research 33(1): 51–66. Korom, F. (ed.) (1997) Constructing Tibetan Culture: Contemporary Perspectives. Quebec: World Heritage Press. Lawson, V. (2000) Arguments within geographies of movement: the theoretical potential of migrants’ stories, Progress in Human Geography 24(2): 173–189. Lopez Jr, D. (1998) Prisoners of Shangri-La: Tibetan Buddhism and the West. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press. Nepal Research ⬍ http://www.nepalresearch.com/society/ population.htm ⬎ (last visited 6 September 2002). Norbu, D. (1992) ‘Otherness’ and the modern Tibetan identity, Himal 5: 10–11. Patterson, T. and Kelley, R. (2000) Unfinished migrations: reflections on the African diaspora and the making of the modern world, African Studies Review 43(1): 11–45. Shakya, T. (2002) Blood in the snows: reply to Wang Lixiong, New Left Review 15: 39–60. Tibetan Government-in-Exile (1999) State of Tibetan Refugees in Nepal, pamphlet. Tibetan Women’s Association ⬍ http://www.tibet.com/ Women/twa.html ⬎ (last visited 6 September 2002). Tibetan Youth Congress ⬍ http://www.tibetanyouth congress.org/ ⬎ (last visited 6 September 2002). Tölölyan, K. (1991) The nationstate and its others: in lieu of a preface, Diaspora 1(1): 4–5. Tölölyan, K. (1996) Rethinking diaspora(s): stateless power in the transnational moment, Diaspora 5(1): 5–38. van Walt van Praag, M. (1991) Tibet: an occupied country, 231 in Kelly, P., Bastian, G. and Aiello, P. (eds) The Anguish of Tibet. Berkeley, CA: Parallax Press, pp. 60–64. Warner, S. (1998) Immigration and religious communities in the United States, in Warner, R. and Wittner, J. (eds) Gatherings in Diaspora: Religious Communities and the New Immigration. Philadelphia, PA: Temple University Press, pp. 3–34. Werbner, P. (2002) The place which is diaspora: citizenship, religion and gender in the making of chaordic transnationalism, Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies 28(1): 119–133. Wright, R. (1997) Transnationalism, nationalism, and international migration: the changing role and relevance of the state, in Staeheli, L., Kodras, J. and Flint, C. (eds) Changing American Governance: Implications for a Diverse Society. Newbury Park, CA: Sage, pp. 206–222. Abstract translations Identités de la diaspora tibétaine: production et reproduction Depuis cinquante ans, l’occupation du Tibet par la Chine a causé la mort de centaines de milliers de personnes et produit une vague de réfugiés qui se continue jusqu’à maintenant. Malgré que le sort des Tibétains ait capté l’attention internationale, cette diaspora demeure peu étudiée et peu théorisée. Afin de remédier à cette lacune, nous nous inspirons des travaux de Patterson et Kelley (2000) et soutenons que la diaspora tibétaine peut être étudiée en tant que condition et processus. L’étude de la diaspora en tant que condition met l’emphase sur les caractéristiques structurelles de la population exilée, telles que les catégories de race, classe, sexuation et religion. En tant que processus, l’étude de la diaspora attire l’attention sur les conditions de vie des réfugiés, ainsi que la production et reproduction des indentités liées à l’expérience de la diaspora. Sa Sainteté le Dalai Lama occupe une place centrale dans la diaspora tibétaine. Grâce à son profil global et à une structure politique nationaliste transnationale, il maintient l’image du Tibet, aide à consolider sa communauté, et cherche à obtenir le droit à l’auto-détermination pour les Tibétains. Par le biais de ce cadre nationaliste, les identités tibétaines apparaissent sous une forme unique, unifiée et homogène. Toutefois, d’autres analyses axées sur des voix individuelles démontrent que les identités de la diaspora tibétaine sont en fait contestées, complexes, et ancrées non 232 Serin Houston & Richard Wright pas dans un seul mais dans plusieurs récits de la résistance. Mots-clefs: réfugiés tibétains, identité, diaspora, nationalisme, transnationalisme. Construyendo y reconstruyendo identidades de la diáspora tibetana La ocupación china de Tı́bet que ha durado 50 años ha resultado en la muerte de cientos y miles de personas y ha producido un flujo de refugiados que todavı́a continua. Aunque las dificultades de los tibetanos reciben atención internacional hay pocos estudios y poca teorı́a sobre esta diáspora. Es por eso que seguimos Patterson y Kelley (2000) y sugerimos que la diáspora tibetana puede ser analizada tanto como condición como proceso. Diáspora como condición destaca las caracterı́sticas estructurales de una población en exilio como, por ejemplo, raza, género, clase y religión. Diáspora como proceso destaca las experiencias vividas por refugiados, la construcción y reconstrucción de identidades diasporitas. En la diáspora tibetana, Su Santidad el Dalai Lama ocupa una posición central. A través de su perfil internacional y una estructura polı́tica nacionalista transnacional, crea imágenes de Tı́bet, construye unacomunidad y trabaja por el autodeterminación tibetana. Dentro de este marco nacionalista las identidades tibetanas asumen una forma singular, unida y homogénea. Sin embargo, análisis que tiene como enfoque voces individuales demuestra como las identidades de la diáspora tibetana son contestadas, complejas y arraigadas en, no una, sino múltiples narrativas de lucha. Palabras claves: refugiados tibetanos, identidad, diáspora, nacionalismo, transnacionalismo.