NEWS FROM TIBET
Salween. By Ronald Kaulback. (Hodder and Stoughton. 15s.)
MONGOLIA has gone ; and Sinkiang is in a state of anarchy. But Tibet still stands, anomalous in its external relations and
resolutely unenlightened within its own (undemarcated) frontiers. The Chinese show it on their atlases as a part of their empire ; the British, less overtly no doubt, consider it a sphere, or perhaps merely an' area, of influence. The recent history of Tibet is as Oriental as ever. If, for instance, Mr. Gould, in charge of the 1936 mission to Lhasa, had died there as he very nearly did, it would have been the end of British influence in Tibet. Mr. Williamson, Mr. Gould's predecessor as Political Agent, had died in Lhasa in 1935, to the great grief of his Tibetan and English friends. The second death would have been an irrefutable proof to the Tibetans of the unwisdom of continuing to negotiate with the British.
The competition between Britain and China for influence in Tibet is now of comparatively long standing. If China's other preoccupations have diminished the interest in Tibet for the moment, it is only a very recent change. Mr. Williamson had in fact followed a Chinese delegation which in 1934 visited Lhasa according to custom to pay respects to the memory of the Dalai Lama who had died in the preceding year. The occasion was used by the Chinese to bring con- siderable pressure to bear, and there is little doubt that, but for the Japanese War, Tibet would have been invaded by a military force. By 1936, even with China incapacitated, there was still a risk of Chinese penetration through the medium of the Tashi Lama, the spiritual leader second only to the Dalai Lama.
The Tashi Lama's party, a curious expedition, led, as were our men at Poitiers, by a bishop, was moving at that time with its large Chinese retinue towards the Tibetan frontier. The Tashi Lama had fled to China some twelve years earlier and was considered with much reason to be under Chinese control. His imminent return caused the British to send yet another mission to Lhasa under the present Political Agent at Gangtok, Mr. Gould. Just when the party was being formed, Mr. Chapman happened also to be in Gangtok. To him came then an opportunity for which many men would be prepared to make great sacrifices—to go to Lhasa. The idea of Lhasa is fascinating not only because Lhasa is still a forbidden city, but because it is the apex of all that is Tibetan and the focus of attention of thousands of Buddhists from Ladakh to Peking. Every traveller in Tibet is constantly aware of Lhasa and of the great temple called Potala on the hill, like the Parthenon above Athens. There can be no reader of Mr. Chapman's book who does not anticipate a hundred' times the first view of the Holy City. But remember, it is a British Mission. We shave and have baths. Some of the cases are surely from Moss Bros., and we are very pukka sahibs, in blue suits if we haven't got uniforms.
When Mr. Chapman was in Greenland he liked the company of Eskimos so much that he forgot to record that they rarely washed. But to go to Tibet he assumed a suit and a watch- chain. I hope he buried them both afterwards on the top of Chomolhari ; for they have made him miss so much of Tibetan importance and pay such an unusual attention to sanitation. The book is tantalising ; it tells us very much and very nearly all we want to know about Lhasa. The photographs are ample and beautiful, evidently the work of a talented photographer ; there cannot be too many pictures of the Potala, and there is one of the royal ponies in their stables which looks like a Chinese print. The author's style is fluent and firm, and there is much important information about Tibet and Tibetan society. But pervading the whole book is a feeling of lack of contact, lack of that sympathy with the Tibetans which tones all Sir Charles Bell's writing, of the sympathy of which one was continually aware when in the company of the late Mr. Williamson.
You can leave your blue suit behind to travel with Mr. Kaulback. It may read as though it were uncomfortable to travel as he does, living and eating like a Tibetan and sleeping in their houses and monasteries ; but it is congenial. It helps to develop precisely that quality which is lacking in Mr. Chapman's book—the feeling of adjustment to the minds of the people of the country. Mr. Kaulback describes just such an adjustment of the eye to the perception of yaks ; the analogy is helpful :
" The cows are called dri, and for a long time we caused our servants shame and suffering by speaking of both sexes indiscrimin- ately as yaks in front of coolies ; but at length we developed a ' yak eye' to their great relief, and could spot which was which unfailingly even from a distance. It was not so much a question of size, some bulls being small and cows big ; the secret was in the shape, for gradually the females seemed to us to be more delicate and graceful until at last they stood out as clearly as ballet dancers beside police- men."
His book is often facetious, but facilely so. A fair example would be :
" When we reached Shingke Gompa the following afternoon we were ravenous, and a pea, if popped in, would have rattled forlornly in our stomachs." Mr. Kaulback's journey was a true exploration,lasting over two summers and the intervening winter in an attempt to find the headwaters of the River Salween. His entry into Tibet was, politically speaking, a little irregular ; but with his tact and knowledge of the language he obtained the confidence of the local officials and only got into trouble later in London. The country is of mountain ranges and deep valleys, for the most part unknown to any European. Travelling in summer would not be excessively difficult ; but Mr. Kaulback's zeal as a map-maker kept him to his work in the autumn and winter in extremely trying conditions. With him were Mr. Hanbury- Tracy and three Sherpas ; his style of travelling and the composition of his party were typical of the modem light expedition associated with the names of Tilman and Shipton.
When the Mission left Lhasa the Tashi Lama was in Tibet but only moving very slowly towards the capital. In December, 1937, he died, many miles from his own monastery or Lhasa. Since the death in 1933 of the Dalai Lama the misfortunes of the Chinese and the Tashi Lama have helped Tibet. Those who accept all Mr. Chapman's strictures may not consider the con- tinued independence of Tibet to be important ; but there are others who would have unreasonable regrets at the disappearance of a body of ideas which have so far so successfully resisted the newer culture.
MICHAEL SPENDER.
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