A Short Story with a Long Moral
The other day a staff-member of a Tibetan government office in Delhi got involved in a road accident that seriously damaged one of his legs. His colleagues took him to the hospital but thereafter were at a loss as to the next step. The victim has no relatives in Delhi and none of his friends felt in a position to be able to decide whether to sue the other party for damages or to avoid a prolonged litigation by reaching a compromise. The absence of the time of any senior office-bearer who might confidently decide the matter one way or the other was also frustrating. Nobody in the house had the slightest idea s to the victim’s position under Indian law. The time for decision was approaching and the patient, who might have indicated his own preference, was under sedation. Then someone thought of Bureau of His Holiness the Dalai Lama, the unofficial embassy in the Indian Capital of the Tibetan government-in-exile, head by an accredited representative of the Dalai Lama. Two persons at once rushed to the Bureau to request them to take over the whole matter or at least provide them with official or legal guidance.
Now this is where the plot sickens. To put it briefly, the Bureau officials wanted to have nothing to do with it, and the victim’s friend had to return to the hospital empty-handed.
The rest of the story need not concern us here, and infact it is not over at the time of writing. But what must concern us here is the attitude of an office that, whether anyone else does so or not. Tibetans consider as their embassy. The function of an embassy is as much to look after the welfare of its nationls in that locality as to conduct diplomacy. However, our Bureau is not exactly renowned among local Tibetans for its record on this field. So much so that over the years 1,000 odd inmates of the Tibetan Camp in old Delhi as well as sweater-sellers from out of town have become accustomed to taking their problems not to the Bureau but elsewhere, particularly to a Ladakhi monk who is a high-ranking Indian government official—and nearly every time with satisfactory results.
The Bureau seems to think that its main function—if not the only one—is obtaining passports and visas for Tibetans going abroad, and buying airline and railway tickets. But one can frequently hear complaints from Tibetans that even these functions are not always performed to the satisfaction of the clients. Indeed I know of a number of cases where individuals have managed these things on their own much more speedily, and sometimes in cases declared hopeless by the Bureau.
The Bureau does not perform any diplomatic functions. For what diplomacy there is to be conducted is done directly by the Dalai Lama’s private office or by the Offices of Tibet outside India. With no diplomacy, only a mediocre travel agency service, and virtual inability to provide social services to the community, one cannot help wondering what the point of maintaining an expensive office with full staff is. The social service aspect is particularly important in political terms. What happens if a Tibetan finds himself in a real big trouble and he has no one to turn to and there is no influential Ladakhi official easily accessible? Won’t he be tempted to accept the standing invitation from the Chinese embassy to go there whenever Tibetans where have problems of any kind ?
The other day a staff-member of a Tibetan government office in Delhi got involved in a road accident that seriously damaged one of his legs. His colleagues took him to the hospital but thereafter were at a loss as to the next step. The victim has no relatives in Delhi and none of his friends felt in a position to be able to decide whether to sue the other party for damages or to avoid a prolonged litigation by reaching a compromise. The absence of the time of any senior office-bearer who might confidently decide the matter one way or the other was also frustrating. Nobody in the house had the slightest idea s to the victim’s position under Indian law. The time for decision was approaching and the patient, who might have indicated his own preference, was under sedation. Then someone thought of Bureau of His Holiness the Dalai Lama, the unofficial embassy in the Indian Capital of the Tibetan government-in-exile, head by an accredited representative of the Dalai Lama. Two persons at once rushed to the Bureau to request them to take over the whole matter or at least provide them with official or legal guidance.
Now this is where the plot sickens. To put it briefly, the Bureau officials wanted to have nothing to do with it, and the victim’s friend had to return to the hospital empty-handed.
The rest of the story need not concern us here, and infact it is not over at the time of writing. But what must concern us here is the attitude of an office that, whether anyone else does so or not. Tibetans consider as their embassy. The function of an embassy is as much to look after the welfare of its nationls in that locality as to conduct diplomacy. However, our Bureau is not exactly renowned among local Tibetans for its record on this field. So much so that over the years 1,000 odd inmates of the Tibetan Camp in old Delhi as well as sweater-sellers from out of town have become accustomed to taking their problems not to the Bureau but elsewhere, particularly to a Ladakhi monk who is a high-ranking Indian government official—and nearly every time with satisfactory results.
The Bureau seems to think that its main function—if not the only one—is obtaining passports and visas for Tibetans going abroad, and buying airline and railway tickets. But one can frequently hear complaints from Tibetans that even these functions are not always performed to the satisfaction of the clients. Indeed I know of a number of cases where individuals have managed these things on their own much more speedily, and sometimes in cases declared hopeless by the Bureau.
The Bureau does not perform any diplomatic functions. For what diplomacy there is to be conducted is done directly by the Dalai Lama’s private office or by the Offices of Tibet outside India. With no diplomacy, only a mediocre travel agency service, and virtual inability to provide social services to the community, one cannot help wondering what the point of maintaining an expensive office with full staff is. The social service aspect is particularly important in political terms. What happens if a Tibetan finds himself in a real big trouble and he has no one to turn to and there is no influential Ladakhi official easily accessible? Won’t he be tempted to accept the standing invitation from the Chinese embassy to go there whenever Tibetans where have problems of any kind ?
posted by editorla at
9:03 PM
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