Treachery in Tibet

by John Wilcox

  She raised the cup to her lips again. ‘Perhaps I have been the happier of the two because there has been plenty to write about in India—’

  ‘Ah,’ he interrupted, ‘you must forgive me. My duties here have meant that I have not been quite so assiduous a follower of your work as I was in London. And the Post arrives here so dashed late, you know, that the pot has boiled long before I get to take the lid off, so to speak.’

  ‘Of course. You are forgiven, sir. But I am detaining you far too long with tittle-tattle about the Fonthills. If I may, Lord Curzon, I would like to discuss this Tibetan affair with you and seek your guidance in terms of analysing what is going on there and how the matter could develop.’

  Curzon’s face tightened for a moment. Then he raised an elegant eyebrow and smiled coldly. ‘Having noticed over the years how your … er … rather radical views of matters concerning the Empire have been presented with great skill within the more traditional Tory editorial policies followed by the Post, I doubt whether I myself will be influential at all in helping you to report on the Tibetan problem. But, be assured that I shall try. Now do fire away.’ He leant back in his chair, crossed one white silk-stockinged leg over the other – it seemed he always wore ceremonial dress during the day – and waved for her to begin.

  Alice fumbled in her small bag and produced pencil and notebook. ‘Thank you, Viceroy. But please be assured that my story will be written as a straightforward report, not an opinion piece. Not a leader, of course.’

  ‘I understand. And so …’ He leant forward, ‘you would presumably have no objection if I cast an eye over it before you cable it? Just, of course,’ he added hurriedly, ‘so that I might be in a position to correct what might be the odd inaccuracies which can, I know, creep into the most carefully written pieces.’

  Summoning what she hoped was a beguiling smile, Alice shook her head gently. ‘I am afraid not, sir. It is not the policy of our newspaper to allow stories to be censored, so to speak. I fear that you must trust me.’

  ‘Very well. Now, do please begin.’

  Alice took a deep breath. ‘Do you intend to invade Tibet?’

  Curzon feigned deep astonishment. ‘Good gracious no! Whatever made you think that?’

  Scribbling away, Alice looked up. ‘Because for some months now you have had a diplomatic mission – guarded by a military escort of remarkable size considering that the Tibetans are not a militaristic race – sitting over the border half a day’s march into Tibet at a place called Khamba Jong. I understand that the Tibetans have consistently refused to negotiate with the mission and that it and its escort is now being withdrawn back into India and that a considerable number of troops is being assembled near the border, presumably with aggressive intents towards Tibet? Why?’

  The Viceroy, seemingly unperturbed, raised two hands defensively. ‘Most of what you say is true. What is not true is the assumption that you draw from the facts.’

  ‘Then why, pray, assemble the troops? What have the Tibetans done to harm India or the Raj?’

  ‘Ah.’ He pressed the fingertips of both hands together and tapped them, in a meditative mode. ‘We must go back a little in time, Miss Griffith, so that you understand the background.’

  ‘Please do.’

  ‘Very well. You will know that I have travelled extensively through these parts in the past and talked with a good many rulers long before I took up this position in Calcutta?’

  Alice nodded, pencil poised.

  ‘In fact, I may say – if a trifle immodestly – that, in addition to being the youngest viceroy to be posted here, I believe that I am almost certainly the best equipped, in terms of having studied the history of the region and its problems, both from the perspective of the British government in London and from my many discussions on the ground with people of influence throughout the subcontinent and its neighbours.’

  Ah, thought Alice, now the man’s conceit is beginning to reveal itself! But she nodded slowly again and said, ‘Of course. I would certainly be prepared, sir, to concede that.’

  ‘Very good of you, madam, I am sure. Now,’ he leant forward, ‘from all my studies and conversations, I have formed a firm conclusion that Russia has intentions towards Tibet, if not aggressive militarily, then certainly so in diplomatic terms.’

  Alice frowned. ‘But surely Tibet is a vassal state of China, and Russia would certainly not attempt to upset the Manchu Empire?’

  ‘Oh, I am not speaking of direct invasion. But there is plenty of circumstantial evidence that Russia is attempting to turn Tibet against us. The Tsar’s emissaries are to be seen frequently in Lhasa, I am informed, and more and more stories are reaching me that Moscow is beginning to arm Tibet. There is even a manufacturing plant being set up in Lhasa, I am told, to produce Russian rifles there.’

  ‘Why should Russia do all this?’

  ‘Because it covets India and wants a route through to this country. As you know, Cossacks have left a trail of havoc over the decades riding through Central Asia towards the Indian North-West frontier. They’ve taken the Russian double-headed eagle right up to the northern frontier of Afghanistan. We have called their bluff there and there they have stopped. Now, it is my conviction that they are seeking to find another way in. Tibet is under only a rather lacklustre form of suzerainty from Peking and I sense that the Russians see an opportunity there.’

  Scribbling away, Alice spoke without looking up. ‘So what do you propose to do about it?’

  ‘Well, I intend to put a stop to their little game. We must persuade the Dalai Lama to open up his country to us to counterbalance the Russian threat.’

  Alice put her pencil to her mouth. ‘As I understand it, the Tibetans do not wish to establish formal relations with their neighbours. For instance, I have read that the last – and so far only – Englishman to reach Lhasa was in 1811. Their religion promotes a way of life that is contemplative and quite self-contained. China more or less leaves them alone to toddle along in what is virtually a medieval form of living. How would you change this?’

  ‘Well, certainly not by a heavy-handed invasion. But we do have genuine grievances against the Tibetans, you know. In 1890, a Sikkim–Tibet Convention was concluded with China, whose suzerainty over Tibet we have always recognised. It was followed four years later by a set of trade regulations. The main purpose of these instruments, as far as we were concerned, was to secure formal Chinese recognition of our paramount rights in Sikkim, bordering Tibet, but they also dealt with matters of commerce, frontier delineation, etc. More tea?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  Cuzon dabbed at his nose with a handkerchief clearly woven from the finest Egyptian cotton and leant back to ease his vertebrae. ‘You see,’ he continued, wincing slightly, ‘the Tibetans have never formally ratified that treaty. They have just gone on their merry way, ignoring it completely. As a result, grazing rights at the border have been infringed, trade obstructed, boundary pillars overthrown and an illegal tariff imposed on the trickle of goods imported from India.

  ‘The states that border Tibet – Bhutan, Sikkim and Nepal – are important to us. We, of course, recruit our Gurkhas from Nepal and the other two enjoy an autonomy which is underwritten by treaties with the British government. We are very sensitive to any encroachments by Tibet on these countries. We do not wish even the thinnest end of the wedge to be inserted here.’

  Alice nodded. ‘I understand that, but surely Tibet is not really a threat, is it? As I understand it, it is not exactly an aggressive country. On the contrary, in fact.’

  Curzon frowned and a slight trace of irritation crossed his face. It was clear that he was not used to being contradicted, particularly by a journalist – and a woman at that! ‘That’s not the point,’ he said. ‘If the Russians are allowed to increase their influence in Lhasa, and without a presence there we have little chance of stopping them doing so, then Tibet, like the leopard, could change its spots. But there is another point. The Dalai Lama has s
hown great discourtesy to the British government. I have written to him twice on these matters and both letters have been returned unopened. We can’t be flouted in this way in this region. Our reputation would be harmed.’

  Alice stifled a smile. It was clear that he, Lord Curzon, was certainly not used to being treated like that. A case of lèse majesté, of course. But perhaps she was being unfair.

  ‘Of course,’ and she nodded. ‘I quite see that. It would encourage the malcontents in India. But even so, sending in troops … surely a step too far?’

  Curzon issued a viceregal sigh. ‘We have no intention of “sending in troops”, as you put it. I proposed to the government back home that we should send a commercial mission to Lhasa to begin negotiations of the widest possible scope, culminating, hopefully, with the appointment of a permanent British representative in that city.’

  He paused and his sharp features resumed their air of painful disapproval. ‘My colleagues in Whitehall took, ah, some time to consider this and, in the meantime, Russia protested that it had no designs on Tibet and, indeed, had no treaty concerning it with China. As a result, the government rejected the idea of a trade mission to Lhasa but agreed to my fallback suggestion of opening negotiations with China and Tibet at Khamba Jong, the nearest inhabited town on Tibetan territory to Giaogong, Sikkim’s border town. As a result, as you have pointed out, we sent a frontier commission there, suitably protected, of course, to deter any question of the Tibetans attacking it.’

  He forced a smile. ‘I hope all this detail is not boring you, Miss Griffith, but I do feel it important to give you the background.’

  ‘Oh, good gracious no, sir. I am most grateful to you for your patience. But now the commission has retreated back to India?’

  ‘Indeed. It stayed at Khamba Jong – a most godforsaken place, by the way – for five months. We foresaw that negotiations might, er, languish, but I must confess that I did not think that none would take place at all. The Tibetans and the Chinese refused to open any formal negotiations, insisting that the commission must retreat from its soil.’

  Alice cleared her throat and smiled at Curzon through her lashes. ‘Perhaps a not unreasonable attitude, since we had entered Tibet without receiving an invitation to do so ….’

  ‘I disagree. Quite unreasonable. We had displayed no aggressive intent while waiting on that arid plain. On the contrary, we traded very amicably with the local inhabitants, such as they were, and sent a succession of most courteously phrased messages to Lhasa. But there is more. While all this was going on, news reached us that two natives of India – British subjects – had been arrested in Lhasa, beaten and tortured and thrown into prison.’

  Alice retained her smile. ‘Ah, now, were they spies, I wonder …?’

  ‘That, madam, is neither here nor there. No civilised nation ill-treats nationals of another, friendly power and incarcerates them, without allowing them to defend themselves or approaching the government of their country. It was quite disgraceful. As a result, I am glad to say that the attitude of His Majesty’s government has hardened. I have been given permission to launch – not an invasion – but a second mission into Tibet. This will advance some 200 miles into the heartland of the country to a place called Gyantse, a prominent Tibetan city and a little over halfway to Lhasa.’

  ‘Escorted, presumably, by troops?’

  ‘Indeed. We certainly could not risk the mission being attacked. But we have assured Lhasa that we have no aggressive intent. The mission will not lead to any occupation of Tibet or to permanent intervention in Tibetan affairs. As soon as reparation for past breakages of the treaty has been confirmed, then a withdrawal will be effected.’

  A silence fell on the room as Alice, head down, scribbled quickly. Oh, how she wished she had learnt shorthand! Eventually, she looked up. ‘What if they still refuse to negotiate? Will the mission advance to Lhasa?’

  ‘That remains to be seen. At the moment, certainly the government does not wish it to do so.’

  ‘Hmmm.’ Alice sucked her pencil again. ‘And what happens if the mission is attacked?’

  ‘Then the escorting troops will defend it robustly.’

  Putting down her pencil slowly, Alice frowned. ‘Allow me to get this clear, Viceroy. Let me see. Where are we now? We are in November. It will clearly be some time before you can advance into Tibet. This means that, to penetrate some 200 miles into the country, the mission and its escort will have to cross some of the highest mountain passes in the world in the middle of winter. Surely this is a daunting prospect?’

  Curzon nodded slowly. ‘It will not be easy. But I am assured by Colonel Younghusband, who will lead the mission and who is vastly experienced in terms of travelling in the Himalayas, that it is quite possible.’

  Alice felt anger stirring within her. She looked round the room with its opulent furnishings and then up at the ornate ceiling, from where the very latest electric fan was lazily stirring the heavy air. Oh, the arrogance of the man, sitting in such comfort and planning to send men to fight in the depths of winter at such altitudes! So typical of the British ruling classes. So sure, even now, that the Empire could be extended on little more than a whim!

  She sought to control her temper and coughed to clear her throat. ‘But some of these passes must be … what … more than 14,000 feet high and blocked with snow by the time the column approaches them. Surely no force has been asked to make this sort of journey before. And what if the Tibetans dispute their passage?’

  ‘We shall fight our way through. We shall have vastly superior firepower – if we are attacked, which I very much doubt. I am confident that the Tibetans will see sense, when they realise how determined we are.’

  ‘I see. And when will the invasion – sorry … the journey – when will it begin?’

  ‘I repeat. This is not an invasion. We estimate that the mission will set off in about the middle of December. Certainly before Christmas.’

  Alice wrote and then slowly closed her notebook. She made as though to stand. ‘I am most grateful to you, Lord Curzon,’ she said, ‘for giving me so much of your time and for explaining so carefully—’ She stopped, for the Viceroy had raised a hand.

  ‘There is one other matter, Miss Griffith,’ he began. And she noticed that, for the first time, he looked just a little uneasy. He smiled again – the relaxation of the facial muscles that somehow did not communicate with the eyes. He leant forward.

  ‘You will perhaps have noted that I do not usually give interviews of this nature to members of the press.’

  ‘Er … yes. I confess that I was a little surprised that you agreed to my request – and most grateful, I must add.’

  ‘Yes, yes. Quite. Well, there was another reason.’ He leant back in his chair and his smile broadened. Alice tightened her buttocks instinctively. She sensed that the charm was being switched on. What was coming?

  ‘You see, I have always been an admirer of your husband.’

  ‘How kind.’

  ‘Yes, well, although I may seem to you and, indeed, the world at large that I am … what shall I say … a conventional man whose own career has been marked by a rise to my present position via a well-ordered route: Eton, Oxford, the Commons, a junior position in government and so on.’

  The Viceroy paused and Alice was not quite sure what was expected of her. So, she smiled in turn and murmured, ‘Indeed.’

  ‘Yes, well, that was quite true. But, if I may say so, I have also been quite adventurous in my own way – travelling widely in rather wild parts of the globe and that sort of thing. Not by any means so courageously as your husband, who,’ he leant forward and shook his head slightly from side to side in mock astonishment, ‘seems to have fought in every war, large or small, that this country has been engaged in for at least a quarter of a century. Yes. Quite remarkable – and, indeed,’ he added quickly, ‘matched virtually by you, step by step, or so it seemed.’

  Alice smiled faintly and nodded at the compliment. What o
n earth was the man getting at?

  ‘Yes. You see, this mission is quite important to me and I would give anything to be able to go on it myself. Alas,’ he shrugged his shoulders and held out his hands resignedly, ‘that is quite impossible. I cannot leave my post here. But …’ He paused and then sat back. ‘If your husband could go – not exactly in my place – but with my blessing, as my sort of representative, I would have much greater confidence in its success.’

  ‘What?’ Alice felt her jaw drop. ‘Simon go to Tibet with the column?’

  ‘Yes. Oh, I know it is a rather impertinent request considering that he and I have never met, but he is a man who has never shirked to answer a call to serve his country and I think he would be ideally placed to fulfil a rather unusual but important role with the mission.’

  ‘But what … what would that role be? Surely Colonel Younghusband would be in command of the column?’

  ‘Yes, and he will be joined by a splendid sapper, Brigadier James Macdonald, an old India and Africa hand, who has been recommended by Lord Kitchener and who will command the military escort. Both of these men are ideally suited to their tasks but, in my view, they would be perfectly complemented in tackling the strange and unconventional challenges presented to them by the presence of a man as widely experienced as your husband, who has been scout, soldier and diplomat all rolled into one in so many strange corners of the Empire.’

  ‘Well,’ Alice sought for words. Her mouth had dried at the thought of the dangers that would be presented to Simon – a man no longer in his youth – in those high mountain passes if the column had to fight its way through deep snow, ice storms and, quite possibly, an army of indigenous tribesmen desperate to protect their country from invaders.