2 FEBRUARY 1951, Page 9

Tibetan Adventure

By SIR EVELYN WRENCH R. LOWELL THOMAS, the American news commentator and lecturer, makes a practice of appearing unexpectedly in some far-off part of the world just when it is much in the public mind. His visit to Tibet, accompanied by his son, some few months ago makes a most interesting story, and is recorded by the son, who certainly shales with his father the love of adventure.• By means of new recording-devices Mr. Lowell Thomas, senior, did his daily news-summary from the " roof of the world," and was the first to broadcast from the Tibetan capital. His son, equipped with half-a-dozen cameras, took a very remark- able series of photographs, with which the book is illustrated.

The adventure began in this way. The son was on an expedition among the Bakhtiari tribesmen of Eastern Iran. Returning to Teheran on July 14th, 1949, he received a typical telegram from his father: "The miracle has happened. Meet me in Calcutta. We are on our way to Lhasa." For many years Mr. Lowell Thomas had hoped to visit Tibet. When Mr. Roy W. Henderson was appointed American Ambassador to India, Mr. Thomas wrote him a letter to which he added this postscript: "Now that you are in Hindustan, a land of miracles, how about performing a miracle ? How about arranging for me, my son, and three other Americans, to visit Tibet ? Is there any hope ? " The Ambassador liked the idea, and, although he did not anticipate that the request would be granted, he decided to transmit it to Lhasa through the Ministry of External Affairs in New Delhi.

Then the miracle happened. A midnight call from the State Department in Washington informed Mr. Thomas that a wireless message, relaid from Tibet via India, had been received saying: " You are invited to Lhasa. Come at once." Permission was, however, granted only to Mr. Thomas and his son. Subsequently the travellers ascertained that the invitation was due to the influence of Isepon Shakabpa, Tibetan Minister of Finance, who had visited the United States on a trade mission in 1948. The authorities in Lhasa had been deeply concerned by the spread of Communism in Asia, and they were apprehensive as to the intentions of the Chinese Reds, for Communist doctrines are contrary to the whole Tibetan philosophy of life. The Finance Minister gained his point, and explained the so good an opportunity of reaching the American public through the medium of wireless should be made use of. He Out of this World. By Lowell Thomas, jnr. (The Greystone Press, New York.)

had been much impressed by his four months' sojourn in the United States, and confessed to Mr. Thomas that his only real disappoint.' ment in America had been that he had not been recognised as a. Tibetan. Sonic folks, he said, took him for a Chinese, others for an Indian, and others for a Japanese. But strangest of all was the fact that he was confused with the British.

With high hopes Mr. Lowell Thomas and his son set out frorn Calcutta for Gangtok in August, 1949. The author writes: " Once we crossed the Himalayas into Tibet we were indeed travellers in the land of the Lost Horizon. And it often seemed as if we were dreaming—acting the parts of characters in James Hilton's novel, on our way to Shangri-La." All went well on the outward journey, apart from the discomforts of travel in Tibet in very high altitudes, and of spending the nights in peasants' houses. The author says that his mule " had an exasperating way of stopping on the edge of nearly every precipice to reach over for a nibble at some succulent plant—out edge of the trail—usually within inches of the abyss." The travellers pay a handsome tribute to the ubiquitous yak( without which they doubt whether there " could be a Tibet."

The only living things they saw on the Tibet-India border were three bushy-tailed wild yaks, peering down suspiciously at them. When they entered the " Forbidden Land " they passed under a yak-hair rope, from which hung hundreds of cloth prayer-flags, waving in the wind, with the words on them: " Om Mani Padme Hum." The uses of the yak are many: all rope in Tibet is woven from its hair ; yak-tails are prized as fly-whisks, and from those shipped to the United States nearly all the better Santa Claus beards are made. Yak butter, " preferably rancid," is one of the chief ingredients in Tibetan tea, so popular throughout the country that the average well-to-do Tibetan consumes his thick tea "at the fantastic rate of forty to fifty cups a day."

There are many references to those Britons who have visited Tibet from the days of George Bogle in the eighteenth century, when Warren Hastings was Governor-General of Bengal, down to Mr. Hugh Richardson, the last Briton in the Indian foreign service, who only relinquished his post as political officer in 1950, and is said to be contemplating a lecture-tour in the United States. When the two Americans reached their journey's end, they were welcomed in the outskirts of Lhasa by Rimshi Kyipup, the only survivor of the four young Tibetans who, at the suggestion of Sir Charles Bell, were sent by the thirteenth Dalai Lama to be educated at Rugby in 1913. Rimshi is now the official interpreter at Lhasa, and surely no other Rugbeian can hold a stranger job. Rimshi and the official host were dressed in bright red and gold gowns, with six-inch turquoise pendants in their ears, more turquoise in their top-knots and dazzling yellow hats, and accompanied the visitors to the audience with tho Dalai Lama on the final day of the Earth Ball Summer Festival.

A monk climbed the ladder and struck a golden gong, and they found themselves in the presence of the reincarnation of Chenrezi, God of Mercy. After receiving the Regent's blessing the visitors sat on cushions on the floor, and noticed that the young Dalai Lama (he is sixteen years of age) " smiled and kept glancing down at us, obviously as curious as any of his subjects about two strangers from far-away America."

As is customary the visitors brought with them gifts for His Holiness, among which were "a genuine tiger skull—teeth, snarl and all—set in silver and gold by a Siamese silver smith in Bangkok," a folding travel-alarm-clock, a plastic raincoat from America, a bag of coins and a white scarf—this last a symbolic gift expected of all visitors. Lhasa must be a paradise for colour photographers, as Cabinet Ministers wear brilliant yellow silk gowns and red hats. The author writes: "Never have we seel more photogenic people," and continues, " Tibetan officials and their wives were riding, gaily ornamented horses and mules—the hien dressed in flowing robes, with yellow hats of the inverted saucer type. . . . Some women wore on their heads wooden frames studded with turquoise and corals. Over their frames, which look like antlers, they drape their long straight hair."

While in the capital, they watched a few hundred of the Dalai Lama's troops wearing " discarded British uniforms of World War I, with rifles and other light equipment of the same period." The army had three bands performing and a corps of bagpipers, playing

a medley of " God Save the King," " Marching through Georgia " and " Auld Lang Syne."

A question which was on everybody's lips in Tibet during their visit was: " Has Communism come to stay in China and will it keep spreading through Asia ? " Mr. Thomas replied: " No one can answer that difficult question. But in my opinion Communism may not have a lasting effect on China's age-old culture and civilisa- tion. Chinese life up to now has always centred on the family and on religion and both are institutions which Red doctrine opposes. Even if Communism is not entirely cast off, China may modify it to such an extent that it is no longer a part of a Moscow-directed scheme for world conquest." With gravity the Kalon Lama responded: " We hope what you say will happen—and soon enough to save Tibet."