If we are to identify one crucial theme running through the collective discourses and practices of the Tibetan diaspora, it is the preservation of tradition and culture. When some Tibetans, following the Dalai Lama in 1959, left their country as refugees, a need to preserve the traditional religion and culture in the diaspora was felt. This became particularly acute as markers of Tibetan life came under attack during the Cultural Revolution in China and then, since the 1980s, as the Chinese authorities sought to follow a dual policy of political repression and economic liberalization. The acute fear that Tibetan culture would become extinct in its homeland underlines the predominance of a "salvage mentality," a preservation ethos in the Tibetan diaspora. This also provides legitimacy to the diaspora's claim to be a true representative of Tibet, the custodian of an endangered culture.
It is thus not surprising that Dharamsala is projected as the Little Lhasa in India, and several dynamics support such a depiction. Not only is this the residence of the Dalai Lama and (therefore) a place of pilgrimage for many Tibetans and non- Tibetan Buddhists, but it is also the focus for the individual, communal, and institutional practices of Tibetan culture. Earlier pilgrims used to visit Lhasa, which for them was a source of refuge from the everydayness of life with hope of good in the next life. Now refugee status is itself often seen as a sort of pilgrimage during which a darshan (sight) of the Dalai Lama in Dharamsala provides compensation for hardship. As a result, new refugees are first stationed in Dharamsala, helped to meet the Dalai Lama, and only then sent to resettlement camps.
This projection also provides legitimacy to the claims that the Central Tibetan Administration is a government-in-exile, a continuation of the pre- 1959 Lhasa government, and therefore the rightful representative of all Tibetan people. It provides added validation to the political struggle for self-determination in Tibet. Dharamsala is perceived as the temporary capital of the entire Tibetan world and the Tibet movement. Conscious efforts have been made to recapture what has been called the spirit of "Old Tibet," for example, the recreation in Dharamsala of Tsuglakhang (Central cathedral) as an equivalent of Lhasa's Jokhang temple.
The symbolic representation of Dharamsala as Little Lhasa, as Thupten Samphel of the government-in-exile's Department of Information and International Relations (DIIR) pointed out, is to convey that what has been destroyed is being re-created (personal interview 2000). This idea of the re-creation of a civilization and the preservation of culture is the single most important strand of Tibetan identity discourse and is conspicuously evident in Dharamsala's geography.
The institutionalized expression of this theme of the saving of culture is best found at the Norbulingka Institute, dedicated explicitly to the preservation of Tibetan culture in both literary and artistic forms that might otherwise become extinct. For instance, in the Norbulingka's Center for Arts, the skills preserved and passed on through training and apprenticeship include statue making, thangka painting, applique and tailoring, woodcarving, carpentry, and metal craft. It is emphasized that the practice of making traditional works of art such as religious statues and thangkas only in response to the customer's order is a continuation of earlier practices in which patrons would personally commission artists to do such work. Norbulingka is keen "to preserve the relationship between patron and artist free from the taint of commercialisation" (Norbulingka Institute 1995).
Even the Dalai Lama considers preservation to be the single most important achievement of the exile community. He points out that the pure form of culture is now found outside rather than inside Tibet (Powell 1992, 384). This is similar to Richardson's argument that the only hope of "keeping Tibetan characteristics and values alive" is in the refugee population, given that the new generations of Tibetans living inside Tibet are divorced from past ways of thinking; even though the nomadic population maintains old ways of life, they are rough and primitive (1998, 707-8). The idea that Tibetan culture in diaspora is more authentic than the one prevalent in Chinese-controlled Tibet is supported by a few factors. One of them is the passing down of cultural authority though the practice of reincarnation. A significant part of Tibetan culture and religion has been embodied within reincarnate lamas, the most important being the Dalai Lama himself. And many of them left Tibet to become a part of the diaspora. The struggle between the Dalai Lama and Beijing over the reincarnation of the Panchen Lama [82] reinforces the Dharamsala establishment's desire to prevent this process from getting into the wrong and "inauthentic" hands. While outside (read Chinese) influence is resisted, there have been instances where the practice has been deployed to incorporate ethnically non- Tibetan individuals as nang-pa (the Buddhist "insider"). [83]
The idea of true cultural authority as existing in exile rather than within Tibet is also validated by the presence of some great master craftsmen [84] who had been trained in their art in the "Old Tibet" and then moved to exile. These artists are regarded as "precious" since they are seen as having direct experience of "authentic Old Tibet." [85] Moreover, because of Exotica Tibet and a desire to gain Western support, the exile elite has tended to favor certain strands of Tibetan culture as more authentic and therefore worthy of patronage. For instance, cultural aspects highlighting sectarian differences are often underemphasized in favor of pan-Tibetan identity markers. Here, the ultimate cultural authority has come to be associated with the Dalai Lama himself (see Harris 1999).
An interrelated thematic aspect of the symbolic geography of Dharamsala is the role of memory in housing a distinct Tibetan identity. Exotica Tibet has directly influenced how Tibetans have constructed their memories of a lost homeland. The names of many establishments in Dharamsala-of not only Tibetan governmental and nongovernmental institutions but also commercial establishments-resonate with specifically Tibetan idioms. For instance, if one walks up the Jogibara Road from the Amnye Machen Institute to the right and Gaden Choeling Nunnery to the left, one finds names such as Amdo Cha-Chung Restaurant, Lhasa Tailors, Cafe Shambhala, Tsongkha Restaurant, Drepung Loseling Guest House, Tibet Lhoka Cafe, and so on. Similarly, on the Bhagsu Road starting from the bus stop, one comes across Potala Tours and Travels, Dhompatsang Boutique and Handicraft, Rangzen Cafe, Tara Cafe, and Tashi Kangsar Travel Lodge, to mention just a few. Other names, more directly influenced by Exotica Tibet, specifically deploy the ideas of loss and longing, such as the Tibet Memory Restaurant, Lhasa Tailors, Lhasa Hotel, and Hotel Tibet (the hotel belongs to the government-in-exile). It may be possible that an important factor influencing the naming practice could be the nostalgia for Tibet and the desire to create familiarity in strange places. If you don't find Tibetan names in Little Lhasa, where else can you expect to find them?
CULTURE AND THE POLITICS OF PLACE: SOME CONCEPTUAL PROBLEMS WITH THE DOMINANT STORY
However, this dominant story of Little Lhasa as a temporary station where Tibetan culture is being preserved is highly problematic, both practically and theoretically. While in practical terms this simple story is complicated by the experiences of living as refugees, it is also open to serious theoretical challenges because of the unproblematic acceptance of a stylized understanding of the basic concepts of identity and culture.
Let us first take the theme of the preservation of Tibetan culture. Though the predominant emphasis remains on preserving tradition, the impact of drastic change in the context of cultural production is evident even in traditional areas. Unlike in Tibet, where monastic institutions were the sole custodian of religion, in the diaspora the task of preserving the culture is shared by modern institutions established by the exile administration (see Kolas 1996). Museums, libraries, and institutes established by the government-in-exile are considered repositories of authentic Tibetan culture. These are modeled on Western ideas of cultural preservation. The "culture of Tibet" is in a sense being constructed and objectified through the new institutions and through the ideas of "culture" itself. Particular ideas of Tibet, influenced by Exotica Tibet, are created and embedded in the exhibitionary form
s of a range of cultural practices and institutions. A relatively fluid mixture of traditions is being bounded, fixed, and recorded much more efficiently than ever before. Maintaining and recreating a Tibetan identity in exile involves a self-conscious display of Tibetan Buddhist religion and an organized construction of Tibetan culture. As Kolas argues, "Contained within secular institutions, religious expressions have become the objects of Tibetan culture, which represent Tibetan identity to the outside world" (1996, 58-59). This attempt to preserve traditional culture in the modern world has inevitably led to a secularization and objectification of it. [86] Capturing the spirit of "Old Tibet," after all, involves a selective construction of traditions. For instance, when discussing the various styles of Tibetan painting, Harris points out that the dominant style is new Menri whose purity is at best "a series of re-inventions" (1999, 69; emphasis in original). The traditional cultural practices are often laden with contemporary political meanings. [87]
Without belittling these attempts at maintaining distinctive traditions of creative and artistic expression, at a theoretical level this overemphasis on preservation should also be seen as being conceptually problematic because it takes a sanitized view of what culture means. Culture is seen as a thing out there that can be identified, mapped, practiced, and preserved. Such a conceptualization of culture essentializes and naturalizes what is socially and politically constructed and contested. It ignores the fact that culture is a "dynamic mix of symbols, beliefs, languages and practices which people create, not a fixed thing or entity governing humans" (Anderson and Gale 1992, 3). Cultural identities, far from being eternally fixed in some essentialized past, are actually subject to the continuous play of history, culture, and power. Tibetan culture is as much a process as it is a product of particular historical processes. An explicit recognition of this would certainly challenge the dominant tendency to make exilic "Tibet" fit Exotica Tibet.
The effect of commodification and tourism on particular expressions of "authentic" Tibetan culture is also important. As Wood argues, tourism affects not only the ways in which ethnic identities are asserted but also which ethnic markers are chosen to symbolize group membership and culture (1998, 222). The desire to attract tourists has played a significant role in the depiction of Dharamsala as the Little Lhasa.
Even the names of many establishments in McLeod Gunj, particularly the commercial ones, highlight the importance of tourism and the desire to appeal to outsiders' idea of Tibet as a Shangri-la. For instance, on the Jogibara Road this is exemplified in names such as Yak Restaurant, Snow Land Restaurants, Hotel Shangri -la, Snow Lion complex (hotel, restaurant, and medical store), and Travel Tibet Tailoring Shop. The fact that many such establishments are owned by local Indians goes to show that a primary motive for such naming practices is to appeal to tourists. In fact, this dynamic is also underlined by the presence of other shops with names that are unabashedly Orientalist, such as Dreaming Oriental Carpet Cottage Handicrafts, Royal Asia Art, Heaven Art, and Rising Horizon Cafe. It is hard to imagine the old city of Lhasa having place-names such as Shangri-la, Dreaming Oriental, or Yeti before its incorporation into the international tourism networks. My hypothesis is that while Tibetan names such as Amnye Machen Institute, Gangchen Kyishong, and lhagyal-ri reflect a desire to re-create a familiar environment, other more Orientalist names such as Shangri-la and Travel Tibet pander to exoticized representations of Tibet. This is supported by the fact that while the former are predominantly used in Tibetan governmental and nongovernmental institutions, the latter are found exclusively in commercial establishments.
The preservation ethos is not hegemonic in the Tibetan diaspora. Counterhegemonic spaces are available in Dharamsala for innovative and more contemporary practices of culture. Even these practitioners are not in opposition to traditional culture but complementary to it. For instance, though Norbulingka's catalogs and brochures fail to mention this, the institute has a section where young artists work on contemporary themes. Moreover, even the traditional cultural practices are often laden with contemporary political meanings. The Namgyalma Stupa [88] in the center of McLeod Gunj, erected during the 1960s as a memorial to the Tibetans who lost their lives fighting against the Chinese, is a good example of this combination of traditional religion with modern politics. Similarly, the dolls made in the traditional style at Norbulingka carry "Free Tibet" badges.
The political context of occupation and coercion is always present even in the space provided for traditional art and crafts. Despite the dominance of the preservation ethos, the focus of identification has now shifted from local contexts to a national one-instead of individual localities and regions, all of Tibet is collectively imagined as the homeland to which the refugees hope one day to return.
Rather than seeing culture as informing politics and vice versa, the entire category of culture has to be understood as political. For instance, both the desire and the attempt to preserve a culture under threat are acts of resistance to dominant forces of modernization and to the Chinese occupation. Therefore, we must consider not only the way in which politics affects the works of art but in what sense an artwork may itself constitute a political act or statement rather than being conceived merely as the result of a political intention (Millon and Nochlin 1978). It is difficult to miss the centrality of the Tibetan political cause in McLeod Gunj's landscape-"Free Tibet," "Boycott Chinese Goods," and similar stickers and posters are glaringly visible. The symbolic geography of Dharamsala in this sense is a geography of resistance as much as it is a geography of regeneration. In other words, the cultural is political.
An integral part of Dharamsala's geography is the festivals and various other events occurring throughout the year. Rather than seeing the festivals as merely reflecting religious beliefs or political rituals, we can examine the techniques and dynamics through which the narratives, symbolic spaces, and collective fantasies of communal identities are reproduced and regulated among the Tibetans and their supporters. Examples of such festivals that are replete with multiple meanings are Losar (February 12), Tibetan Uprising Day (March 10), the Dalai Lama's birthday (July 6), Democracy Day of Tibet (September 2), and the commemoration of the awarding of the Nobel Peace Prize to the Dalai Lama (December 10). Connerton's observation that "the ritual performances and commemorative ceremonies are important in building up collective memory, which in turn is crucial for the development of a sense of home" (in Kong and Yeoh 1997, 217) is also applicable in the case of the Tibetan diaspora.
Though the focus is on the preservation of culture, a visible feature of the symbolic geography of Dharamsala is hybridity. In their everyday life, Tibetan refugees in Dharamsala and elsewhere in South
Asia negotiate with the popular culture of India; it should come as no surprise, then, that Bollywood has a very significant influence on the identity of many Tibetans (see Diehl 2002). Everywhere I went, I found a striking similarity between Tibetan songs and songs from both popular Hindi films and Western pop music.
However, such observations, while complicating the notion of preservation of a "pure" culture, do not militate against a more sophisticated conception of Tibetan culture. The new generation may not practice "authentic" versions of culture, but, as evidenced from the activities of the Tibet Youth Congress, their creative negotiations with dominant cultures around them do not hamper their po-liticization. On the contrary, the ability simultaneously to negotiate and resist varied cultural practices makes the diasporic Tibetans well placed to carry forward their political movement in a rapidly changing world. The simultaneous negotiation, appropriation, and resistance are key features of postcoloniality.
CHALLENGING THE DOMINANT PARADIGM: READING CULTURAL IDENTITY IN TERMS OF ROOTS AND ROUTES
What does a postcolonial reading strategy look like? How can it seek to contextualize a politics of place and identity that takes into account the politics of representation? Here I wish to make six interrelated points relating to Tibetan identity-roots and routes
of culture are complementary; identity is discursively produced; Exotica Tibet plays a productive role; the Dalai Lama's role is vital; an image of the "homeland" is crucial; and, finally, Tibet is a re-imag(in)ing construct.
First, the space for a different reading is afforded by the word dharamshala itself. As pointed out earlier, the word indicates a temporary home and this temporariness has been a central motif in Tibetan diasporic identity discourses. Tibet, the original homeland, is foregrounded as the final destination in these discourses and it also permeates the material as well as the performative cultural expressions of the Tibetans in diaspora. While focusing on the starting and finishing stations, such a reading ignores the crucial element of the travel itself. Dharamshala is not only a temporary home but also a temporary stop on the way to somewhere else. It is a house offering temporary hospitality to travelers on their way. One does not travel from home to dharamshala to return back to the home. Travel is transformative and constitutive. Rather, dharamshala is a temporary shelter to facilitate travel from one place to some other new place. If instead of focusing solely on the theme of return, we look at the process and experience of journey itself, we may be better placed to appreciate the conundrum of Tibetan identity politics.
Geopolitical Exotica Page 16