Читать книгу The Dalai Lama’s Little Book of Inner Peace - Далай-лама XIV, Литагент HarperCollins USD, Дуглас Абрамс Арава - Страница 26

For every reason, political and religious, I very much wanted to go to India. After all, it is the birthplace of the founder of Buddhism, the very source of the wisdom brought to our mountains hundreds of years ago by Indian saints and seers. The religions and societies of Tibet and India had developed on different lines, but Tibet was still a child of Indian civilization. And from the secular point of view, a visit to India seemed to offer me the very opportunity I wanted to withdraw from my close contact and fruitless arguments with the Chinese, at least for a time. Not only that – I hoped it would also give me a chance to ask the advice of Mr Nehru, other democratic leaders, and followers of Mahatma Gandhi.

For a long time, we had had friendly contacts with the British government of India. In fact, that had been our only contact with the Western world. But since the transfer of power to the Indian government, political contact with India had faded away and I was sure that we must try to renew it and keep it strong, as a lifeline to the world of tolerance and freedom. I cannot emphasize enough how isolated Tibet felt politically. So I left Lhasa at the end of November 1956, looking forward to being able to move around freely without having to worry about the Chinese.

My very first visit on my first morning in New Delhi was to the Rajghat, the place of cremation of Mahatma Gandhi. I was deeply moved as I prayed there on the green lawns which slope down to the Jamuna River. I wished most fervently that I had had the privilege of meeting Gandhi in this world, and, at the same time, felt tremendous joy thinking of the amazing example of his life. I saw in him, and still see in him today, a consummate statesman who believed in altruism over and above all personal considerations. Like him, I am convinced that non-violence is the best political weapon.

On my first meeting with Pandit Nehru, I explained to him in detail how the Chinese had invaded our peaceful country and how I had tried dialogue with them once I realized that no other nation was ready to defend our right to independence. He began by listening very politely, but gradually his gaze became more and more vacant. Finally he said that he understood me perfectly, but was firmly convinced that nothing could be done for Tibet at present. Nevertheless, I confided in him about my idea of going into exile in India. Once again he gave me the brush off, and advised me to go back to my country and try to get on with the Chinese. I said that I had already done all I possibly could to do that, but the Chinese had betrayed my trust.

Before leaving Delhi, I had one last meeting with Nehru. Things had to be clear: India could in no way help Tibet. He entreated me to follow the advice of Chou En-lai and to go back to Lhasa without stopping in Kalimpong, a town in northern India where I had been invited by the Tibetan refugee community. However, as I insisted I wished to go there, he suddenly changed his mind and said, “India is a free country, after all. Nothing that you are doing is illegal.”

Meanwhile my two brothers, who had been contacting sympathetic Indian politicians, and my old Prime Minister tried to persuade me to stay in India. All three asked the Kashag to prevent me from returning. But I did not give ground. I was once more going to collaborate with the Chinese, on the advice of Nehru and with the promises of Chou En-lai in mind. But as I traveled back to Lhasa, I had a weary heart.