A thousand mutinies cannot quell the frustration that Tibetans must feel today. A tiny country sliced off from nature, hedged in geographically and politically, suffering fresh pangs of a birth that may never be. This is how I see Tibet, the land of the Shangri-La, of the lamas in their soft ascetic garments, of Buddhism in its austere best amid nature that is both benevolent and demanding. Tibet, an idea whose microcosm resides in another country, in the country of its refuge and growth—internationally, internally, philosophically and symbolically. And yet the symbol is deeply, trenchantly split today, right down the middle, grappling with isms that may never bring to fruition the ideas of either freedom or autonomy.

This is, in many ways, a clash of symbols. The Beijing Olympics is China’s coming of age party for the world, a potent symbol of what is aspires to be and what it promises the world. Nothing should tarnish the gloss on this symbol, not even the refusal of some athletes on grounds of that black spot, China’s growing pollution. That calls for a different set of dialectics in the paradigm that China wants to set itself. This paradigm brooks no dissent, no discord, even if it means maligning an international icon for self aggrandisement. Where then does the symbol of Tibet and the Dalai Lama find place within this framework?

The Dalai Lama’s Nobel Prize was homage to Gandhi and his non-violent strategies. The Middle Order is what this international figure of peaceful resistance has always preached. It is also to his credit that he can foresee the future—benefit for the people of Tibet from association with the Chinese mainland. But the buck stops there. Beyond this, the requisites are simple and age old: autonomy, dignity, grace and respect. Is this too much to ask of China, a figure on the world stage, about to rake in its first international applause? Perhaps it is, because that could also call for acknowledgement on various fronts: recognition of China’s independent status before Chinese aggression or occupation, the Dalai Lama’s influence over Tibetan political and social life, and perhaps, the sense of kowtowing to a power lesser than itself. Wasn’t that what Tiananmen threatened to become?

The tanks rolling at Tiananmen have not lost their echo yet and again, there are voices on China’s streets, in Lhasa, in Dharamshala, in European nations, and across portals and broadsheets. Yet, a sense of eerie quiet seems to have engulfed the media. How much of the attention is on Tibet and its strife? China does call the shots, even before curtains go up on its sense of glory, power and influence. After all, in a world driven by stock markets, cross border business and trade, and consumerist utopia, Tibet does not account for much. Yet, some countries have raised the standards in terms of protest and censure. Think France. Think Germany. May we think India too?