the theatrical show. March 10 was reluctantly agreed on, the event to be held inside Silingpu itself, an unprecedented location for the Dalai Lama’s presence. On the morning of March 9, P. T. Takla, general of the 500-man Kusung Magar, the Dalai Lama’s bodyguard, was hurriedly summoned before one Brigadier Fu at Chinese headquarters. The brigadier informed Takla that on the following day Tibet’s ruler was not to be accompanied by his customary contingent of twenty-five soldiers, his route was not to be lined with troops, as was normally the case, nor were the two or three bodyguards permitted to join him inside the Chinese camp to be armed. When Takla requested the reason for such extraordinary conditions, the brigadier mysteriously asked, “Will you be responsible if somebody pulls the trigger?” He further insisted that the occasion be kept secret from the public. It could not be. Within hours of the meeting, Lhasa was swept by the rumor of a Chinese plan to kidnap the Precious Protector. Serving only to reinforce the people’s suspicions, Radio Peking had just announced that the Dalai Lama would attend an upcoming meeting of the Chinese National Assembly, though, in fact, he had not yet agreed to go. Three planes were known to be standing by at Damshung Airport, seventy miles northwest of the capital, giving further credence to the idea. Moreover, similar deceptions had occurred before. In the east, at least four high lamas had been invited to cultural performances without their retinues, whereupon they were imprisoned and all save one executed. No one besides the Dalai Lama’s personal staff had been invited to the performance, not even the Cabinet. Apprised of the people’s feelings, however, the PLA command issued last-minute invitations to prominent Tibetans on the evening of the ninth, an act which appeared so transparent as to confirm the population’s worst fears.
Soon after dawn on March 10, crowds began pouring out of Lhasa. By nine o’clock almost 30,000 people had gathered before the two giant stone lions flanking the Norbulingka’s front gate. Their mood was explosive. Shouting that the Dalai Lama must be protected, they sealed off the Jewel Park. Two longtime Cabinet ministers were belatedly permitted entry, but a third, newly appointed official, driving in the company of a Chinese officer, was attacked. When a known collaborator, named Phakpala Khenchung,rode up on a bicycle firing two shots from his revolver to warn the crowd back, he was stoned to death, his body tied to a horse and dragged through the city’s streets.
As the morning progressed, seventy of Lhasa’s chief citizens were elected to be popular spokesmen. By noon they had obtained the crowd’s initial objective: a Cabinet minister announcing over the gate’s loudspeakers that the Dalai Lama had decided to forgo the performance as well as to decline—as the leaders had requested—future invitations to the PLA headquarters. Encouraged rather than placated, the people mustered a large volunteer force to guard the Norbulingka. Then thousands returned to Lhasa to mount mass demonstrations demanding that the Chinese quit Tibet. Meanwhile, three Cabinet ministers drove to Silingpu hoping to mollify General Dan Guansan. Pacing up and down the room in which he, ten officers and Ngabo Ngawang Jigme—already in the Chinese camp—received the news, the general was outraged. He accused the Tibetan government of acting in complicity with “reactionary rebels” and threatened severe reprisals if their “scheming” continued. Storming out of the meeting, he led the way to the camp’s auditorium to introduce the theatrical show, which, despite the day’s unscheduled events, was to proceed as planned.
At five o’clock, after having seen the show, Ngari Rinpoché, the Dalai Lama’s thirteen-year-old brother, left PLA headquarters and walked east past the Potala toward his family’s residence, Yabshi House. “It was the end of
Soon after dawn on March 10, crowds began pouring out of Lhasa. By nine o’clock almost 30,000 people had gathered before the two giant stone lions flanking the Norbulingka’s front gate. Their mood was explosive. Shouting that the Dalai Lama must be protected, they sealed off the Jewel Park. Two longtime Cabinet ministers were belatedly permitted entry, but a third, newly appointed official, driving in the company of a Chinese officer, was attacked. When a known collaborator, named Phakpala Khenchung,rode up on a bicycle firing two shots from his revolver to warn the crowd back, he was stoned to death, his body tied to a horse and dragged through the city’s streets.
As the morning progressed, seventy of Lhasa’s chief citizens were elected to be popular spokesmen. By noon they had obtained the crowd’s initial objective: a Cabinet minister announcing over the gate’s loudspeakers that the Dalai Lama had decided to forgo the performance as well as to decline—as the leaders had requested—future invitations to the PLA headquarters. Encouraged rather than placated, the people mustered a large volunteer force to guard the Norbulingka. Then thousands returned to Lhasa to mount mass demonstrations demanding that the Chinese quit Tibet. Meanwhile, three Cabinet ministers drove to Silingpu hoping to mollify General Dan Guansan. Pacing up and down the room in which he, ten officers and Ngabo Ngawang Jigme—already in the Chinese camp—received the news, the general was outraged. He accused the Tibetan government of acting in complicity with “reactionary rebels” and threatened severe reprisals if their “scheming” continued. Storming out of the meeting, he led the way to the camp’s auditorium to introduce the theatrical show, which, despite the day’s unscheduled events, was to proceed as planned.
At five o’clock, after having seen the show, Ngari Rinpoché, the Dalai Lama’s thirteen-year-old brother, left PLA headquarters and walked east past the Potala toward his family’s residence, Yabshi House. “It was the end of
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