Ngapo Ngawang Jigme, 1910-2009
Tibetinfo.net
28. Dec 2009ISSN: 1864-1407
Ngapo Ngawang Jigme (Chin: Apei Awang Jinmei) died on 23 December 2009 in Beijing, a few months before his 100st birthday, though he was already 100 by Tibetan reckoning. Often denounced as a Chinese collaborator, mainly for his historical role in the demise of Tibetan independence, Ngapo, appears rather a tragic figure caught his whole life between, on the one hand, his view that open confrontation with China was pointless and on the other hand his loyalty towards the Dalai Lama and his fellow Tibetans.
Ngapo Ngawang Jigme
Ngapo, who came from the Horkhang family, one of Tibet’s highest aristocratic families, was appointed one of the four Kalons (minister) in the cabinet of the traditional Tibetan government (Kashag) under the last regent of Tibet, Tagdra Rinpoche.
A few weeks before an expeditionary force of China’s People’s Liberation army (PLA) entered the territory still under jurisdiction of the Dalai Lama’s government, Ngapo was sent as a governor of eastern Tibet and took up the post in the city of Chamdo (Chin: Qamdo) with, as his military support, an ill-equipped Tibetan army which for decades had been neglected, if not intentionally held weak, by the conservative establishment in Lhasa. Facing an overwhelming Chinese force and sensing that Tibet, with the departure of the British from India, could not count on effective international support, he opted for surrender in October 1950, and advised the Tibetan government to negotiate, prompting the departure of the Dalai Lama and his entourage to Chumbi/Dromo, on the border of Sikkim.
He then led the Tibetan delegation who, under heavy pressure, signed the 17-point Agreement on 23 May 1951, by which Tibet lost the de facto independence it had enjoyed during most of the first half of the 20th century, and became part of the emerging People’s Republic of China (PRC).
During the crisis of March 1959, Ngapo apparently did not consider following the Dalai Lama into exile, but characteristically, he discreetly did as much as he deemed he could to ensure his safety. As masses of Tibetans surrounded the Norbu Lingka amidst rumours that Chinese forces planned to kidnap the Tibetan leader, the Chinese general in charge had lost his communication link to the Dalai Lama, claiming: “Not a drop of water could have trickled through”. As days passed, the Chinese authorities decided to use force. Ngapo therefore called Kashoepa, his friend and former fellow cabinet minister, to his home, where he looked after his wife, and requested him to ensure delivery of the general’s correspondence to which he enclosed a confidential message of his own, asking the Dalai Lama to locate on a map his whereabouts in the Palace, so he could divert the Chinese army’s shelling from that particular location. He rightly reckoned that the crowd would not oppose Kashoepa’s passage as he was a popular patron of the monasteries. Kashoepa conveyed in total two letters between the Chinese general and the Dalai Lama, which he delivered through his root guru, Trijang Rinpoche, the junior tutor of the Dalai Lama.
Ngapo, who had already been courted by the Chinese authorities during the 1950s, was given a number of honorific positions in ‘liberated’ Tibet and the PRC, second only to the Panchen Lama. In contrast to the experiences of many Tibetans, even Communists like ‘Baba’ Phuntsog Wangyal (‘Phunwang’), he managed to escape all the purges during the 1960s-70s. Among the posts he held was membership of the Preparatory Committee for the Tibet Autonomous Region (TARPC), vice-chairman of the National People’s Congress (NPC) Standing Committee, China’s rubber-stamping parliament, from 1964 to 1993, and vice chairman of the National Committee of the Chinese People’s Political Consultative Conference (CPPCC). However, like a handful of Tibetans in similar positions, none of his posts ever entailed any real political power, and his role was at best in a ceremonial or advisory capacity.
Ngapo’s surrender in Chamdo and the signing of the 17-point Agreement earned him a reputation of being a shrewd opportunist, if not an outright traitor. Malicious rumours about his personal conduct – for example the allegations that he was something of a rake with gambling debts – already dogged him in the 1950s. The official posts he later held, his apparently perfect alignment behind the Party line, the official stances he time and again was made to lend his voice to, and even his penchant for cadre dress, made him a figure of contempt among Tibetans, particularly in exile.
It is only in the 1980s, when contacts between the Dalai Lama and Beijing resumed, and Ngapo had carefully aligned himself with the Panchen Lama’s efforts to revive Tibetan culture, that he assumed a more positive role. His efforts to act for the benefit of ethnic Tibetans within the narrow parameters of being a central public figure on a stage set and directed by the Communist Party of China (CPC)(1), found acknowledgement in a statement by the Central Tibetan Administration (CTA) – the Government in Exile – issued one day after his death, which honoured him as “someone who upheld the spirit of the Tibetan people” and mourned his demise.
For others, particularly among advocates of Tibetan independence, who reject the Dalai Lama’s calls for autonomy within the PRC, Ngapo still remains a symbol of Tibetan collaboration and submissiveness. Exile Tibetan writer Bhuchung D. Sonam, called him “a perfect (…) opportunist”, who “from his vantage position (…) sensed which side was winning”, and “shrewd and calculative”, had “made sure to be with the winner”.
Notes:
1: A comparison with the Panchen Lama who openly and successfully supported the Tibetan renaissance after his rehabilitation is not entirely fair, because, as a religious leader, the Panchen Lama was graced with a fervent following, which put him in a far stronger position than Ngapo.