Chinese Colonialism

Rights Groups Condemn China for Charging Tibetan Activist with 'Inciting Separatism'
By Yeshi Dorje

A Tibetan exile in Dharmsala, India, walks past a banner demanding the release of Tashi Wangchuk, an outspoken campaigner for the rights of Tibetans to receive instructions in Tibetan language, who was arrested in 2016 in China's Qinghai province for allegedly inciting separatism, Jan. 27, 2017.

A Tibetan language rights advocate and businessman pleaded not guilty Thursday to four charges of "inciting separatism" during a four-hour trial in China that a rights group called a "sham."
The People's Middle Court in Yushu, in Qinghai province, said it would issue a verdict at a later, unspecified date, according to a tweet in Chinese from activist Tashi Wangchuk's lawyer.
Tashi Wangchuk, 32, has been in detention since his arrest in January 2016, two months after he spoke to New York Times reporters about how China's policy was eroding the Tibetan language.
The primary evidence in the trial was a short video documentary by the Times titled A Tibetan's Journey for Justice, according to Liang Xiaojun, the defendant's attorney. 

The Times is blocked in China, and the case underscores the danger people place themselves in when speaking with foreign news outlets.
Human Rights Watch said the delay in the verdict was an indication that a severe sentence, which could be up to 15 years in prison, would be an embarrassment for Chinese government authorities.
"The fact that he hasn't been given a sentence at all may mean that the authorities essentially going to keep him in detention but spare themselves the embarrassment of giving him a harsh sentence," said Sophie Richardson, China director at Human Rights Watch. 

"That he has not been given a verdict doesn't mean that he is going to go free."
Amnesty International called the trial a "sham" that presented "absurd" charges against the activist.

Misuse of charge alleged
The group's statement said, "Exposing and criticizing the way Tibetan language and culture are being suppressed by government policies is a legitimate exercise of free speech. Labeling it as a form of 'inciting separatism' demonstrates how the Chinese authorities blatantly misuse this criminal charge to silence dissent."
A Tibetan exile in Dharmsala, India, stands near a poster demanding that China release Tibetan activist Tashi Wangchuk, who was charged with inciting separatism, Jan. 27, 2017.

Beijing considers Tibet "part" of China and often equates Tibetans' advocacy for greater autonomy or rights of a cultural or religious nature as "separatism." 

VOA Tibetan sought a comment on the case from the Chinese Embassy in Washington, but was told, "You cannot leave a message because message box is full."
In the documentary, Tashi Wangchuk speaks extensively in Mandarin about the "pressure and fear" felt by Tibetans and his worry that their culture is being wiped out through the steady erosion of their language, according to The Associated Press.
Minority rights are protected under China's constitution, as is the right to sue government officials, he says in the video.
Tashi Wangchuk notes that 140 Tibetans have died from self-immolation since 2009 and says he believes they were also protesting the disappearance of their culture under Beijing's rule.
The documentary shows him seeking redress through official channels as he travels to Beijing, where he tries, unsuccessfully, to sue local officials and persuade journalists at China's powerful state broadcaster, CCTV, to cover his case.
Tashi Wangchuk said that if the courts refused to hear his case, it would prove that the Chinese legal system would not solve issues surrounding Tibetan rights. 

"If this comes to an end and I'm locked up and cannot proceed with what I'm doing and they force me to say or do things I don't want to say, I will choose suicide," he added.
Liang said in his tweet that although most people in the courtroom were Tibetans, the court conducted the trial in Chinese.
"I said that I am an outsider from the point of view of the Tibetans, but that I and many others who love Tibetan culture wish that it will be protected just as the Chinese traditional culture will be protected," Liang said. 

"I said, 'I wish you can understand the altruistic motivation of this young, admirable Tibetan.'"

Reflection of commitment to rights
How the Chinese court handles this case will define China's commitment to upholding the constitutional rights of its citizens, said Lobsang Sangay, head of Tibet's government in exile.

Two Tibetan nuns in Dharmsala, India, hold placards demanding that China release Tashi Wangchuk, an outspoken campaigner for the rights of Tibetans, Jan. 27, 2017.

"Tashi Wangchuk has on his own volition advocated for a constitutionally guaranteed right, that of bilingual education for Tibetans and ethnic minorities. His trial and sentencing will determine largely whether the Chinese government is committed to upholding the internationally recognized laws and domestically accepted rule of law in China," Sangay said in a statement released by the exiled Tibetan government.
The South China Morning Post quoted Liang as saying that Tashi Wangchuk was treated well by other inmates in the detention.
"He is innocent because he was only exercising his right to criticize the marginalization of Tibetan language and culture," Liang said. 

"He is well-treated [in Tibetans' detention facilities] because what he does is well-respected among Tibetans."
"This case has been farce from the beginning," said Richardson, speaking to the VOA's Tibetan service. 

"The only way for China to redeem itself from embarrassing itself is to let him go immediately, drop the charges and let the man go back to living his life, and, frankly, fulfilling precisely the requests he made to them to allow that kind of education. That's what the Chinese law allows for."

Tibetan Filmmaker Flees to U.S. After ‘Arduous’ Escape from China

By SUI-LEE WEE

Protesters demanding the release of the Tibetan movie director Dhondup Wangchen protest outside the Chinese embassy in Tokyo in 2009. 

A prominent Tibetan filmmaker, who was jailed for making a documentary about Tibetans living under Chinese rule and had been under police surveillance since his release three years ago, has fled to the United States after an “arduous and risky escape” from China, according to his supporters.
Dhondup Wangchen, 43, arrived in San Francisco on Dec. 25 and was reunited with his wife and children, who were granted political asylum in the United States in 2012, according to Filming for Tibet, a group set up by Mr. Wangchen’s cousin to push for his release.
“After many years, this is the first time I’m enjoying the feeling of safety and freedom,” Mr. Wangchen said in the statement issued by the group. 

“I would like to thank everyone who made it possible for me to hold my wife and children in my arms again. However, I also feel the pain of having left behind my country, Tibet.”
Mr. Wangchen was a self-taught filmmaker from China’s western province of Qinghai who had spent five months in 2007 interviewing Tibetans about their hopes and frustrations living under Chinese rule. 

In his documentary, “Leaving Fear Behind,” many Tibetans talked about their love for the exiled Tibetan spiritual leader, the Dalai Lama, and how they thought the 2008 Beijing Olympics would do little to improve their lives.
Mr. Wangchen was detained in 2008 after his footage was smuggled out and shown at film festivals around the world and shown in secret to a group of foreign reporters ahead of the Olympics. 

He was later sentenced to six years in prison for “inciting subversion.”

During Mr. Wangchen’s time in prison, many rights groups, including Amnesty International, campaigned for his release, saying that he was denied medical care after contracting hepatitis B in jail, was forced to do manual labor and was kept in solitary confinement for six months. 

The United States raised Mr. Wangchen’s case with Beijing “at the highest level,” according to the International Campaign for Tibet, a Tibetan rights group.
Mr. Wangchen’s flight from China comes at a time of growing authoritarianism in the country under Xi Jinping. 

Two rights activists have been tried and one more is expected to go on trial on subversion charges this week. 

Since Xi came to power in 2013, his administration has imprisoned human rights lawyers and cracked down on civil society.
Mr. Wangchen’s supporters did not provide details of his escape and he could not be reached for comment. 

Police officials from Xining, the capital of Qinghai, and the Qinghai government did not answer multiple telephone calls seeking comment.

After his release from prison, Mr. Wangchen remained under heavy surveillance and his communications were monitored, according to Filming for Tibet. 

Mr. Wangchen’s fellow filmmaker, Golog Jigme, a Tibetan Buddhist monk, fled China to India in 2014 and was granted political asylum in Switzerland a year later.
Representative Nancy Pelosi, the House Democratic leader, whose district covers San Francisco, said on Twitter on Wednesday that it was an honor to welcome Mr. Wangchen to “our San Francisco community.”
Many Tibetans have complained about repressive conditions under China, which has ruled Tibet since 1950. 

Among their list of complaints: They are barred from publicly worshiping the Dalai Lama, who Beijing reviles as “a wolf in monk’s clothing”, and say that their language and culture have been suppressed. 

After widespread protests by Tibetans in 2008, China imposed a security clampdown.
More than 150 Tibetans have set themselves on fire since 2009 in protest against Chinese rule, according to the International Campaign for Tibet. 

On Wednesday, a young Tibetan man set himself on fire in the southwestern province of Sichuan, the group said. 

China has called the self-immolators “terrorists” and blamed exiled Tibetan rights groups and the Dalai Lama for inciting them.
“The six years Dhondup Wangchen had to spend in jail are a stark reminder of the human costs that China’s policies continue to have on the Tibetan people,” Matteo Mecacci, president of International Campaign for Tibet, said in a statement. 

“Dhondup Wangchen should have never had to pay such a high personal price for exercising his freedom of expression.”

Tibetans in anguish as Chinese mines pollute their sacred grasslands

By Simon Denyer

Landscape along the road from Xining to Yushu in Qinghai Province, on May 29.

JIAJIKA, CHINA — High in western China’s Sichuan province, in the shadow of holy mountains, the Liqi River flows through a lush, grassy valley, dotted with grazing yaks, small Tibetan villages and a Buddhist temple. 

But there’s poison here.
A large lithium mine not only desecrates the sacred grasslands, villagers say, but spawns deadly pollution. 

This river used to be full of fish. 

Today, there are hardly any. 

Hundreds of yaks, the villagers say, have died in the past few years after drinking river water.
China’s thirst for mineral resources — and its desire to exploit the rich deposits under the Tibetan plateau — have spread environmental pollution and anguish for many of the herders whose ancestors lived here for thousands of years.
The land they worship is under assault, and their way of life is threatened without their consent, the herders say.
“Old people, we see the mines and we cry,” a 67-year-old yak herder said, requesting anonymity for fear of retribution. 

“What are the future generations going to do? How are they going to survive?”

A local environmentalist, who also declined to be named to prevent backlash from the authorities, said he had done an oral survey of local opinion and found that Tibetans would oppose mining projects even if companies promised to share profits with local communities, to fill in mines after they were exhausted, and to return sites to their natural state.
“God is in the mountains and the rivers, these are the places that spirits live,” he said. 

“When mining comes and the grassland is dug up, people believe worse disasters will come. It destroys the mountain god.”

Salt deposits at the Jiajika lithium mine in Tagong township in China’s western Sichuan province, seen on August 9, 2016. Local Tibetan herders have protested at least twice against the mine, saying it has polluted the Liqi river and killed fish and yaks downstream.

It was in 2009 that toxic chemicals from the Ganzizhou Rongda Lithium mine first leaked into the river, locals say, killing their livestock and poisoning their fish.
“The whole river stank, and it was full of dead yaks and dead fish,” said one man in the downstream village of Balang, who declined to be named for fear of retribution. 

Another pollution outbreak and a protest by villagers in 2013 forced the government to order production temporarily stopped, locals said.
“Then, during the past few months, officials came to the village to try to persuade people,” the man said. 

“They said we have to have the mine, but promised they would take time to fix the pollution problem before reopening it.”
But in April, just after mining restarted, fish began dying again, locals said. 

“That’s when we just knew they had lied,” the man said.

Dead fish are seen in May, 2016. A Free Tibet protest against the Jiajika lithium mine in Dartsedo County in May, 2016.

In May, residents gathered to stage a second protest, scattering dead fish on a road in the nearby town of Tagong, only to be surrounded by dozens of baton-wielding riot police. 

Again the government stepped in, issuing a statement to “solemnly” promise that the plant would not reopen until the “environmental issues” are solved.
But the problem at the Jiajika mine is not an isolated one. 

Across Tibetan parts of China, protests regularly erupt against mineral extraction, according to a 2015 report by Tibet Watch.
China is focused on copper and gold extraction from Tibet, but is also exploiting a whole range of minerals “with increasing intensity,” including chromium, iron, lithium, iron, mercury, uranium and zinc — as well as fossil fuels such as coal, oil and natural gas, the report said.
Although China boasts of its development work in western regions where Tibetans live, the report argued that much of the transport and other infrastructure in the region is aimed at extracting minerals rather than benefiting residents. 

Projects usually import workers from other parts of China, seldom employing Tibetans in significant numbers.
When protests break out, China’s response has generally been heavy handed, with authorities seeking to politicize the protests.
Understanding those risks, Tibetan communities sometimes use creative ways to get their message across.
In August 2013, hundreds of people gathered in Zadoi county in Qinghai province to protest against mining on what they considered to be a holy mountain; they flew Chinese flags to demonstrate their loyalty to the state, and erected posters and placards quoting Xi Jinping’s words on the need to balance economic growth and environmental protection.
It didn’t help. 

Police and paramilitary forces arrived in large numbers, firing bullets above the crowd, arresting eight people and injuring many more.

A camp at a lead and zinc mine in the high altitude village of Xingniangda, southern part of Qinghai province, where only Han Chinese work.

The entrance of a lead and zinc mine in the high altitude village of Xingniangda, southern part of Qinghai province, where only Han Chinese work.

In the villages outside Xiaosumang township in Qinghai, residents blame a lead and zinc mine for the deterioration of the grasslands for miles around, and even for falling harvests of caterpillar fungus, a highly prized health cure that is the backbone of the local economy.
Contaminated water from the mine, residents said in a joint letter to the authorities in 2010, not only killed their livestock but alsocaused people who drank it to die of cancer, they said.

“Over the years, many herders would sigh and say: ‘Life can’t go on like this anymore. Even drinking has become a big issue for people living on the grasslands,’ ” the letter said.
A May 2009 protest in Xizha village prompted a severe crackdown, the letter said, with guns and tear gas used, seven women severely beaten, and 12 men blindfolded, detained and tortured.
Authorities threatened to cancel poverty-alleviation grants, including income and housing subsidies, if anyone in the region brought up the issue of environmental protection again, the letter said, adding that the crackdown “caused great fear to spread in our hearts.”
Whether the mine is truly the culprit for all the grasslands’ ills is another matter – climate change, for example, is probably an important factor. 

But that doesn’t soothe local anger.
“When I was young, there was more grass, more flowers, it was really beautiful here,” said one 27-year-old man in a valley downstream from the lead and zinc mine. 

“Now you see it’s less beautiful every year. People see all this and they are not really sure what happened, so they think it must be the mine.”

A woman washes clothes near the Jiajika lithium mine in Tagong township in China’s western Sichuan province on August 9, 2016. Local Tibetan herders have protested at least twice against the mine, saying it has polluted the Liqi river and killed fish and yaks downstream.

In Jiajika, 300 miles to the southeast, the commercial pressure to reopen the lithium mine is mounting. 

The element is a vital component in rechargeable batteries used in cars, smartphones, laptops and other electronic and electrical items, and demand — and prices — are skyrocketing.
In January, Youngy Co. Ltd., the parent company of Ganzizhou Rongda Lithium, promised investors that the local government would step up efforts to reopen the mine in March.
That same month, an article in the local Ganzi Daily newspaper outlined the authorities’ dream of making the area “China’s lithium capital,” calling Jiajika the biggest lithium mine in the world with proven reserves of 1.89 million metric tons and even greater potential. 

Three companies, including Rongda, will invest 3.4 billion yuan ($510 million) in the site by 2020, the article said.
He Chengkun, Youngy’s media officer, said an official investigation had established that the plant was not responsible for killing fish in 2013 or this year.
“The local government has made it clear it is nothing to do with our company,” he said. 

“They are looking into it, and have already zoomed in on some suspects.”
He said the plant has been closed since late 2013 because of problems relating to land acquisition, and denied that it had restarted operations in April as locals claimed.
Nevertheless, across the Tibetan plateau, resource extraction, land grabs and environmental destruction remain flashpoints for conflict between Tibetans and the authorities, said Free Tibet director Eleanor Byrne-Rosengren, reflecting both local grievances and the wider problem that Tibetans do not have the right to decide what happens to Tibet and its resources.
“Those resources feed the demands of Chinese industry instead of the needs of the Tibetan people,” she said. 

“That is why their environment is put at risk and their rights are trampled upon, and why we can expect to see this conflict played out repeatedly in the future.”