Tibet

Lhasa under siege

Our China correspondent sends an eyewitness report of the continuing crackdown in the Tibetan capital

IN LHASA’S old Tibetan quarter the authorities reasserted control on Sunday March 16th after two days of anti-Chinese rioting. Helmeted troops with rifles are patrolling the narrow alleyways, firing the occasional round. Frightened residents are staying at home. Some are too fearful even to emerge onto rooftops because of the risk of being shot.

So far, in this part of the city, the security forces appear to have acted with relative restraint. There are persistent but unsubstantiated reports of Tibetans killed by security forces during the rioting on Friday and Saturday. The Dalai Lama, Tibet’s exiled spiritual leader, has spoken of unconfirmed reports of up to 100 deaths. But there are no convincing accounts of the kind of bloodshed involved in the crushing of the Tiananmen Square protests in Beijing in 1989 or in the suppression of the last serious outbreak of anti-Chinese unrest in Tibet earlier that year. With the approach of a deadline on Monday for rioters to surrender themselves, however, some residents fear that widespread and indiscriminate arrests will follow.

After hours of rioting on March 14th, a ring of troops was deployed around the large Tibetan quarter during the night. The next day some residents continued to attack the few Chinese-owned businesses still left intact. Your correspondent saw a group smashing the shutter of one shop and, in another alley, throwing looted goods into a huge fire. Smoke billowed up from an area where the city’s main mosque is located. Many ethnic Chinese in this part of Lhasa belong to the Hui, a Muslim minority, whose members control much of the city’s meat trade.

But as the security forces (in this area it appears they are mainly members of the paramilitary People’s Armed Police, a riot-control unit) continued to step up their presence, the rioting receded. At first some residents threw stones at those troops who were not armed with rifles, retreating rapidly when occasional tear-gas shells were fired. Later on Saturday, troops with rifles began moving into the alleyways, shooting single shots from time to time. Some traversed the rooftops of the densely packed, flat-roofed houses. One briefly appeared on the roof of your correspondent’s hotel, terrifying a Tibetan and two Westerners cowering below the parapet.

During the night, many residents took to the rooftops as rumours swept the area that Huis were preparing a revenge attack on Tibetan premises following the burning around the mosque (it is not clear whether the building itself was damaged). Some prepared stones to throw at any attackers. Tension subsided as fresh rumours spread that the military had cordoned off the Hui quarter.

By Sunday, the authorities appear to have regained control of the streets. Occasional shots were still being fired by troops in the alleyways (whether in warning or at human targets is unclear). Few residents in this normally bustling part of Lhasa now dare to venture out.

In a sign that the government is feeling more confident that its security measures are working, two representatives of the Tibetan administration’s Foreign Affairs Office visited this hotel in the riot-torn area. They offered to help arrange a flight out if needed, but gave no order to depart. The Economist remains the only foreign news organisation with official approval to be in Tibet—which was applied for and granted well before the unrest broke out.

If residents are not to starve or run out of that daily necessity, yak butter (used in the tea Tibetans drink), a signal will have to be given soon that it is safe to venture out to buy essential supplies. Even when they give this, the authorities will still want to maintain a conspicuous force in the alleyways. Tensions are unlikely to subside rapidly. There are numerous anti-Chinese protests in what China calls the Tibet Autonomous Region as well as in the adjoining ethnic-Tibetan areas of China. Some of the biggest have occurred around Labrang in Gansu Province, one of Tibetan Buddhism’s biggest and most important monasteries. Many Tibetans see the approach of the Olympic games in Beijing in August as an unmissable opportunity to draw attention to their plight.

In Lhasa the authorities fear Tibetans might disrupt an Olympic torch-carrying ceremony planned for May. It will be deeply embarrassing for them if they have to cancel this or hold it with troops filling the streets. But embarrassment will be hard to avoid. China’s main hope is that Western governments will resist demands from Tibet’s sympathisers for a boycott of the games. Of that it is still confident.