Religions have had a close relationship not only with violence but with economic exploitation. Indeed, it is often the economic exploitation that necessitates the violence. Such was the case with the Tibetan theocracy. Until 1959, when the Dalai Lama last presided over Tibet, most of the arable land was still organized into manorial estates worked by serfs. These estates were owned by two social groups: the rich secular landlords and the rich theocratic lamas. Even a writer sympathetic to the old order allows that
a great deal of real estate belonged to the monasteries, and most of them amassed great riches. Much of the wealth was accumulatedthrough active participation in trade, commerce, and money lending.Drepung monastery was one of the biggest landowners in the world, with its 185 manors, 25,000 serfs, 300 great pastures, and 16,000 herdsmen. The wealth of the monasteries rested in the hands of small numbers of high-ranking lamas. Most ordinary monks lived modestly and had no direct access to great wealth. The Dalai Lama himself
lived richly in the 1000-room, 14-story Potala Palace.
The theocracy’s religious teachings buttressed its class order. The poor and afflicted were taught that they had brought their troubles upon themselves because of their wicked ways in previous lives. Hence they had to accept the misery of their present existence as a karmic atonement and in anticipation that their lot would improve in their next lifetime. The rich and powerful treated their good fortune as a reward for, and tangible evidence of, virtue in past and present lives.
Michael Parenti
I stumbled upon this article during the scandal involving the Dalai Lama a couple of months ago. My – cynical – immediate reaction was to observe that we rarely hear anything about China’s persecution of Tibetans in the news these days, as the narrative refocused on Hong Kong’s forced integration, the repression of the Uyghurs, and now the increasingly tense atmosphere around Taiwan. Americans sure love to point out other countries’ human rights abuses, while doing little to combat them and forgetting about the issue as soon as another ‘crisis’ pops up – almost as if the concern is merely performative, designed not to help the abused, but to reinforce the American public’s self-perception as ‘the good guys’ versus the ostensive enemy-of-the-day, and to subtly undermine the sovereignty of the state in question.