Gene Sharp's Occupy the World
Monday, December 19, 2011
Gene Sharp, Nonviolent Warrior
When Everett Gendler, an 80-year-old rabbi from New England, asks the
class of Tibetans to describe what the word "power" means to them, the
students hesitate at first. But as they go around the circle, they warm
to the task and come up with some telling responses. Power means
"something frightening," says one young woman in soft English. Power
means "bad or evil"; it means "violence" and "someone who monitors
things," some other students offer.
These Tibetans, in their late teens and 20s, are recent refugees who
fled their homeland to this city in neighboring India, home to some
140,000 Tibetan exiles. Some of the young men sport trendy
haircuts--spiky, tinted red or slacker shaggy--that must be fashionable
back home. They hail from Tibet's cities as well as from farming and
nomad families.
Although it is their winter holiday, about sixty Tibetan students are
attending this two-week workshop on "active nonviolence," led by Rabbi
Gendler, his wife, Mary (a psychologist), and staff from the Active
Non-Violence Education Center (ANEC) in Dharamsala, the northern Indian
hill town that has been home to the Dalai Lama for nearly fifty years.
Over the next few days ANEC will lead a workshop based on the teachings
of Gene Sharp, who outlined 198 methods of nonviolent action in his
1973 book, The Politics of Nonviolent Action. What are two Americans
doing teaching peaceful resistance to Tibetan Buddhists, of all people?
Rabbi Gendler, who has long white hair and a resonant voice, admits
Tibetans already know about nonviolence. But ANEC provides something
more. "We're teaching them how to do it," says Gendler, who founded
ANEC with his wife in 2007 after retiring as Jewish chaplain at
Phillips Academy in Andover, Massachusetts.
On the eve of the fiftieth anniversary of the Dalai Lama's exile in
March, freedom for Tibet remains elusive. The Chinese government has
tightened a clampdown in Tibet that began last March after pro-Tibet
demonstrations erupted across the country. About 120 Tibetans and
several Chinese were killed last year in the worst violence in China
since Tiananmen Square in 1989. The most dramatic headlines have
subsided, but arrest and sentencing of Tibetans quietly picked up after
the Olympics, says the Tibetan Centre for Human Rights and Democracy in
Dharamsala. In anticipation of this year's fiftieth-anniversary
milestone, China launched a "Strike Hard" campaign in January; it has
led to a sharp rise in arrests, raids and interrogations as authorities
tighten control in Tibet.
Despite the deadlock in talks between the Dalai Lama's envoys and their
Chinese counterparts, pro-Tibet momentum outside China has increased.
In recent years, activist groups have become more organized, media
savvy and technologically sophisticated, allowing them to harness
broader support among Tibetan exiles as well as international
sympathizers. Mohandas Gandhi famously said, "I have nothing new to
teach the world. Truth and nonviolence are as old as the hills." But
for the pro-Tibet movement, better nonviolence training and education
have been critical to stepping up the campaign in the hills of
Dharamsala and far beyond.
Lhadon Tethong, executive director of Students for a Free Tibet, a New
York-based nonprofit, points out that Rosa Parks did not spontaneously
refuse to give up her seat on that bus in Alabama in 1955. "She was
trained. She had attended training institutes and learned some
brilliant strategies and methodology," says Tethong from New York. "The
lesson for me is that just because we have this strong Buddhist
culture...doesn't mean we just know how to wage a battle against a
powerful force."
Yet if you walk through the winding streets of this town in the
foothills of the Himalayas, you will see peaceful resistance on full
display. Walls are plastered with fliers advertising pro-Tibet
candlelight vigils, discussions and films. Young Tibetans casually
sport T-shirts with slogans declaring Justice Has Been Raped in Tibet.
Stooped elderly women wear trendy zip-up sweatshirts with Team Tibet 08
stenciled on the back, as do foreign backpackers.
In the week before Losar, the Tibetan new year (which began February 25
this year), the streets of Dharamsala were covered with black posters
declaring No Losar Celebrations, to Express Our Solidarity With Tibetan
Martyrs. This year there will be no concerts, dance performances,
fireworks or guzzling of chang (Tibetan barley beer). Instead, Losar
will be marked by marches, solemn prayers and a hunger strike. Tibetan
exiles are following the lead of compatriots inside Tibet who refuse to
celebrate Losar even though Chinese officials offered money to
encourage festivities, according to blogs in Chinese within Tibet. The
boycott comes even though China has declared March 28 "Serf
Emancipation Day"--a new holiday celebrating the abolition of the
Tibetan government in 1959.
It is easy to take the show of resistance in Dharamsala for granted,
but such coordinated action is relatively new. At the ANEC office,
decorated with portraits of the Dalai Lama, executive director Tenpa
Samkhar says Tibetans know that "Buddha advocated nonviolence for all
sentient beings." But peacefulness can also lead to passivity. Praying
alone won't cut it. Samkhar, a former official in the Tibetan exile
government who has a bowl haircut and large glasses, laughs at the idea
of "waiting for karma after thousands of years" and letting your
enemies be the victor. "You can't wait for things. You have to do
something. You can't just wait patiently!"
Students for a Free Tibet (SFT) is channeling that impatience. It
helped train Tibetans in how to stage nonviolent protests last year in
the months before the Beijing Olympics. In a video of last year's
training, a Tibetan activist warns participants--including red-robed
monks--that the "Indian police will use rude language to make us
angry.... We will win the police over through our peaceful approach."
Another activist shows Tibetans how to wrap their legs around each
other to form a sitting human chain that will be hard for police to
break up. "Cross your legs like this and hold the legs of the person
behind you," he demonstrates while tugging at a participant's ankles.
Tenzin Choeying, the 30-year-old national director of SFT in India, has
been arrested several times for participating in peaceful protests.
Choeying, sporting a goatee and a black jacket, sits on a sofa in SFT's
office in Dharamsala beneath a whiteboard listing documentaries about
Tibet that are for sale on DVD. He describes how far pro-Tibet activism
has come since his days at Delhi University, when just a handful of
Tibetans would show up to protest visits by Chinese leaders. In 2007 a
rally in Delhi organized by the Tibetan Youth Congress drew an
estimated 25,000 Tibetans from across India.
Last year the five major Tibetan NGOs in Dharamsala came together for
the first time when they organized a four-month March to Tibet, from
Dharamsala to the Tibet border--a trek of 745 miles. Before the march,
participants debated whether they needed training. "The elder Tibetans
said, 'We don't need it. It's inherent.' The younger Tibetans knew
training was essential," says Choeying.
The message of the march was amplified through e-mail and text-message
alerts, a website, blog and live satellite video of the march. Media
training helped with holding press conferences and writing news
releases. The Internet is essential for getting information to those
within Tibet, where savvy computer users still manage to get around
government blocks.
SFT has matured with help from Greenpeace and the Ruckus Society, the
group that helped shut down the 1999 World Trade Organization meeting
in Seattle. SFT created its own ruckus in 2007 when activists boldly
unfurled a Free Tibet flag at Everest Base Camp in Tibet and broadcast
the proceedings live on the Internet via satellite streaming video.
Tibetan activists are also well aware of Gandhi's legacy in their
refuge home of Dharamsala. Gandhi's photo often hangs alongside that of
the Dalai Lama in Tibetan offices. Swaraj Peeth, a Gandhian NGO in
Delhi, has co-led training camps for SFT on Gandhian thought and
philosophy. Legacies of the world's nonviolent resistances overlap in
India. Martin Luther King Jr. studied Gandhi's legacy in India and
brought lessons back to the United States. In late February Martin
Luther King III finished a tour of India that retraced his father's
pilgrimage here fifty years ago to learn about Gandhi's use of
satyagraha, or "truth-force," to win independence for India. In another
nod to history, the Tibetan Youth Congress sings "We Shall Overcome"
after its meetings.
Last year's March to Tibet was stopped by Indian police at the Tibet
border, within sight of the snowcapped Himalayas, and its leaders were
jailed. At 54, Bumo Tsering, president of the Tibetan Women's
Association, was one of the oldest participants in the march. Tsering,
a bespectacled former biology teacher, was especially moved that many
of the organizers were her former students from the Tibetan school in
Dharamsala. Out of forty leaders, thirty were alumni from the school.
"More young people are joining working committees" of pro-Tibet NGOs,
says Tsering. "Young people still hold on to their identities strongly."
As marchers straggled over hilly roads last year, carrying posters of
the Dalai Lama and Gandhi, they met blockades of khaki-clad Indian
police.
"We don't mean to disrespect you," said a monk to an Indian police
officer as he sat with a mass of Tibetans in the middle of a mountain
road. The monk clasped his hands beseechingly, and tears welled up in
his eyes. "We are going back to Tibet to struggle for our freedom."