Going the Whole Hog
The Tibetan demonstrationduring the 7th summit of non-aligned nations this month gave me a chance of observing at close range the organisational ability of my fellow-countrymen. I must admit that I was quite impressed: everything was handled much more efficiently than I had expected, and the participants can be justly proud of having managed to stay in the news for the entire duration of the summit. The work was directed by a specially set up committee comprised of members of the Assembly of Tibetan People’s Deputies and the Tibetan Youth Congress: which means just about every Tibetan was represented, making it a truly people’s movement.
Having got this well-deserved praise out of the way, however, I now feel the urgent need to revert to my favourite pastime of annoying everybody. So here we go.
The demonstrators were hoping to be able to awaken the hundred-odd heads of states assembled here out of their ill-founded complacency regarding the question of Tibet. Predictably that was too much to expect; so the immediate aim of the demonstration was to attract world media attention and make more people aware of their aspirations. Everybody had volunteered to court arrest and remain in prison for as long as it was necessary. Yet the leaders were sometimes enough that they were stopped by the police. There also should have been at least one prominent leader among those imprisoned, which would still have left enough people to continue the work.
The demonstration was undoubtedly successful—but with alittle extra effort it would have been even more effective. The daily groups of processionists should have had Vigyan Bhavan, the venue of the summit, as their destination. Their aim should have been either the destination or jail. The groups that were temporarily detained at police stations and then let off should have continued on its journey, inviting re-arrest, and incarceration. As a result, out of the more than 2,000 volunteers only about 800 ended in jail.
There should have been one really capable person to act as the Chief Public Relations Officer. He should, among other things, have been the spokesman at the news conferences. The conference held on the eve of the summit was very nearly a disaster. Even the simplest questions were answered in vague, often self-contradictory terms. The spokesman, presumably chosen for his appearance more than anything else, seemed not only short of hearing but was unable to express his ideas—such as they were—in clear, precise English. Most young Tibetans nowadays can manage everyday conversations in English. However, for an occasion such as this, the services of absolutely the best among them should have been secured—no matter if he belongs to an unpopular organisation, or wears a funny moustache, or keeps three wives and a mistress on the side; or for that matter if he is a she. Once that person undertakes the job, the organizers could brief him thoroughly and it would, of course, be his duty to express only the views entrusted to him and not to propagate his own political ideology or personal fads and foibles.
I have made these points not with a view to dishearten anybody, but with the hope that they will strive for perfection on similar occasions in future. Perhaps I am wrong in my estimation of things; perhaps, cloistered in my cosy office, I am less capable of seeing the reality than those who are actually out there doing something. If such is the case, I, and no doubt others similarly handicapped, would greatly appreciate being enlightened through the Letters column of this rag.
The Tibetan demonstrationduring the 7th summit of non-aligned nations this month gave me a chance of observing at close range the organisational ability of my fellow-countrymen. I must admit that I was quite impressed: everything was handled much more efficiently than I had expected, and the participants can be justly proud of having managed to stay in the news for the entire duration of the summit. The work was directed by a specially set up committee comprised of members of the Assembly of Tibetan People’s Deputies and the Tibetan Youth Congress: which means just about every Tibetan was represented, making it a truly people’s movement.
Having got this well-deserved praise out of the way, however, I now feel the urgent need to revert to my favourite pastime of annoying everybody. So here we go.
The demonstrators were hoping to be able to awaken the hundred-odd heads of states assembled here out of their ill-founded complacency regarding the question of Tibet. Predictably that was too much to expect; so the immediate aim of the demonstration was to attract world media attention and make more people aware of their aspirations. Everybody had volunteered to court arrest and remain in prison for as long as it was necessary. Yet the leaders were sometimes enough that they were stopped by the police. There also should have been at least one prominent leader among those imprisoned, which would still have left enough people to continue the work.
The demonstration was undoubtedly successful—but with alittle extra effort it would have been even more effective. The daily groups of processionists should have had Vigyan Bhavan, the venue of the summit, as their destination. Their aim should have been either the destination or jail. The groups that were temporarily detained at police stations and then let off should have continued on its journey, inviting re-arrest, and incarceration. As a result, out of the more than 2,000 volunteers only about 800 ended in jail.
There should have been one really capable person to act as the Chief Public Relations Officer. He should, among other things, have been the spokesman at the news conferences. The conference held on the eve of the summit was very nearly a disaster. Even the simplest questions were answered in vague, often self-contradictory terms. The spokesman, presumably chosen for his appearance more than anything else, seemed not only short of hearing but was unable to express his ideas—such as they were—in clear, precise English. Most young Tibetans nowadays can manage everyday conversations in English. However, for an occasion such as this, the services of absolutely the best among them should have been secured—no matter if he belongs to an unpopular organisation, or wears a funny moustache, or keeps three wives and a mistress on the side; or for that matter if he is a she. Once that person undertakes the job, the organizers could brief him thoroughly and it would, of course, be his duty to express only the views entrusted to him and not to propagate his own political ideology or personal fads and foibles.
I have made these points not with a view to dishearten anybody, but with the hope that they will strive for perfection on similar occasions in future. Perhaps I am wrong in my estimation of things; perhaps, cloistered in my cosy office, I am less capable of seeing the reality than those who are actually out there doing something. If such is the case, I, and no doubt others similarly handicapped, would greatly appreciate being enlightened through the Letters column of this rag.
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