作者：张致君
2026年中共当局颁发《中华人民共和国民族团结进步促进法》宣传党性教育，压制少数民族文化继承，进一步在体制层面加大民族撕裂。中国共产党在实际行为上在“制造分裂”和“加剧对立”，但却把“分裂主义”的标签用来指责别人。
随着流亡藏人超过9万人在世界各地做登记选民，成功进行议会选举，展现了卓越的政治能力。达赖喇嘛荣获第68届格莱美奖，藏人的精神文化在传播慈悲与和平理念方面树立了国际上的重要里程。而中共当局却对传播藏区文化归国的张雅笛进行抓捕，以”危害国家安全“”分裂国家“等罪名被起诉关押。
西藏问题长期以来不仅是一个政治议题，更是一个涉及文明传统、民族认同、宗教信仰、历史记忆与现代治理方式的综合性议题。若仅仅以领土完整、行政主权或国家安全的角度理解西藏问题，往往会忽略其最核心、最敏感的部分——那就是西藏独特的文化体系，以及藏传佛教在当地社会结构中的深层地位。
对藏人而言，宗教并不是私人生活中可有可无的一部分，而是语言传承、教育体系、伦理观念、节庆习俗、社区组织乃至个人身份认同的重要基础。寺院不仅是宗教场所，也曾长期承担教育中心、文化保存中心与社会协调机制的功能。
任何针对宗教制度的外部干预，都不仅是政策层面的调整，而是对整个民族文化生命的介入。
西藏问题之所以持续受到国际关注，正因为它不只是一个区域治理问题，而是现代国家如何面对历史文明、少数民族文化与宗教自由的问题。世界上许多国家都面临多元文化治理的挑战，但真正考验国家成熟度的，不应该是如何统一差异，而是如何在统一的政治框架之下尊重差异。西藏正是这样一个典型案例。这里既有高度独特的宗教传统，也有强烈的历史记忆与文化主体意识，任何单纯依赖行政命令的治理方式，都难以触及问题本质。
在众多争议之中，最具象征意义、也最受国际社会关注的问题之一，就是中国政府对达赖喇嘛转世制度的介入。达赖喇嘛既是藏传佛教格鲁派的重要精神领袖，也是藏人心中慈悲、智慧与文化延续的象征人物。在过去数百年中，达赖喇嘛制度已经超越单纯宗教职位，成为西藏社会集体记忆的重要组成部分。对于信众而言，达赖喇嘛代表的不只是一个人，而是精神传统的连续性。
达赖喇嘛的转世制度本身具有深厚宗教内涵。按照藏传佛教传统，高僧圆寂后可能以转世方式再度来到世间，继续弘法利生。寻找转世灵童也非现代意义上的选举或任命，而是一套复杂而神圣的宗教程序，通常包括遗训线索、高僧禅观、护法神谕、圣湖启示、特定征兆、候选儿童辨认前世遗物，以及资深僧团的共同确认。这一过程之所以被接受，并不在法律授权上，而因信众相信其宗教意义，并愿意接受其结果。换句话说，转世制度的核心基础是信仰共同体的认可，而非国家权力的许可。
然而，近年来，北京当局多次公开表示，下一世达赖喇嘛的认定必须经过中国政府批准，并强调中央政府拥有所谓“最终决定权”。这一表述意味着国家试图以行政权力介入宗教领袖继承问题，将本属于宗教共同体内部的事务纳入政治控制框架。2025年，中国官员再次明确表示，未来达赖喇嘛的转世将由中国政府主导，而非由现任达赖喇嘛指定的宗教机构决定。这一立场引发藏人社会和信徒的广泛忧虑，当局的主导已经超越一般政策争议，触及一个更根本的问题：现代国家是否有权决定宗教的精神领袖。
问题的关键在于，宗教权威与政治权威本质上来自完全不同的合法性来源。
政治权力来自宪法、法律、制度与国家机器，其核心功能是管理公共秩序、提供安全保障、维护社会运行。宗教权威则来自信仰、传统、伦理影响力与精神认同，其核心功能是回应人的内在需求、提供意义感与道德方向。两者可以并存，也可以互动，但不应互相替代。政府或能控制行政程序、宣传系统与组织资源，却无法命令人们真诚地相信谁具有信仰认可的正统性。若缺乏宗教共同体的承认，即使拥有官方头衔，也难以获得真实的精神权威。历史一再证明，国家可以任命职位，却无法制造信仰。
从宗教自由原则来看，任何政府都不应决定谁是宗教领袖。现代文明社会普遍承认宗教团体拥有依据自身教义处理内部事务的权利，包括领袖继承、教义解释、仪式安排与组织治理。天主教的教宗由教会体系选举产生，伊斯兰世界的宗教学者由宗教传统形成影响力，佛教高僧的地位也来自僧团与信众认可。若国家可以决定达赖喇嘛的转世，那么理论上也可以决定主教、教宗、伊玛目或其他宗教领袖的人选。这显然违背普世的信仰自由原则，也会构成国家权力对公民精神生活的过度延伸。一个真正自信且成熟的国家，应当保障宗教自由，而不是取代宗教本身。
从西藏历史传统来看，达赖喇嘛制度自始至终也不是国家任命制度，而是建立在宗教体系内部长期演化而成的机制。西藏历史上长期拥有高度自治传统。历代中央王朝与西藏之间关系复杂，既有宗教施主关系，也有政治联盟关系，并非现代民族国家意义上的直接统治。历史上的政治互动、宗教往来与战略安排，但并不意味着现代政府天然继承了宗教决定权。
中国官方常引用清代“金瓶掣签”制度作为介入依据，但历史事实远比这一说法复杂。金瓶掣签并非每次实施，也并非唯一程序，转世认定仍依赖宗教体系内部确认。即便在帝制时代，中央政权更多扮演认可角色，而非全面主导角色。也就是说，历史上的中央政府从未像现代中共行政国家这样，以法规文件要求所有转世必须报批。2007年中国出台《藏传佛教活佛转世管理办法》（俗称5号令），规定活佛转世必须经过政府审批，这实际上是现代政权将官僚管理体系延伸至宗教领域，而不是简单“恢复传统”。
1995年，第十世班禅喇嘛圆寂后，达赖喇嘛认定一名六岁男童为第十一世班禅喇嘛，但该男童随后失踪，至今未公开露面。中国政府随后另行指定一位班禅喇嘛。官方任命者虽然拥有国家支持，却始终未能获得藏人社会的自然认同。藏人们仍将失踪男童视为真正的班禅喇嘛。
这成为全球最具争议的宗教继承事件之一，这也说明一个现实：宗教权威无法靠行政命令制造。
若以现代民族国家的行政逻辑重新解释古代帝国与宗教之间的关系，再据此主张今日国家拥有最终裁决权，既缺乏历史连续性，也是一种政治性改写。
从现代治理逻辑来看，政府过度介入宗教事务往往适得其反。国家若试图控制信仰象征，只会加深民众的不信任，并使原本可协商的宗教问题转化为身份、尊严与历史记忆问题。对于西藏这样具有强烈文化特色与精神传统的地区而言，尊重传统远比强行管理更有利于长期稳定。压制认同不会消除认同，反而会强化认同；干预信仰不会削弱信仰，反而会使其更具象征力量。许多国家经验表明，当文化群体感受到被尊重时，更容易形成合作关系；当其感受到被否定时，则容易产生长期疏离。
例如，加拿大在处理魁北克法语文化认同时，并未单纯采取压制方式，而是通过双语政策、地方自治安排以及对法语文化的制度性保障，使魁北克虽长期存在独立声音，但整体仍留在加拿大联邦框架之内。尊重文化差异，反而增强了国家的整体凝聚力。
再如，英国面对苏格兰的民族认同问题，选择建立苏格兰议会、扩大地方自治权，并允许通过公投表达政治诉求。虽然分歧仍然存在，但制度化尊重降低了激烈对抗的可能，使矛盾能够在政治程序内解决。
相反的例子则是北爱尔兰冲突。长期以来，当地部分群体在政治代表权、宗教身份与文化地位上感到被边缘化，最终导致数十年的暴力冲突与社会撕裂。直到和平协议建立权力分享机制、承认多元身份之后，局势才逐步稳定。
另一个例子是西班牙与加泰罗尼亚的关系。加泰罗尼亚拥有独特语言与历史传统，当中央政府与地方认同之间缺乏互信时，政治紧张便迅速升级；而在给予文化自治、语言保护与地方治理空间时，社会关系则相对缓和。
这些案例说明，现代国家的稳定并不来自消除差异，而来自管理差异。文化群体若感受到自己的语言、信仰与历史被尊重，更愿意参与共同体建设；若长期感受到否定与压制，则容易形成代际不信任与心理疏离。尊重多元文化，不是国家软弱，而是成熟治理的体现。
此外，政治介入宗教继承制度还可能制造“双重合法性危机”。 政府可以控制媒体、仪式、机构，却难以控制信仰本身。如果未来中国政府指定一位官方认可的达赖喇嘛，而流亡藏人社会及广大信众承认另一位依据传统程序产生的达赖喇嘛，那么世界可能同时出现两位竞争性的达赖喇嘛。一位拥有国家支持，一位拥有信众支持。这样的局面不仅无法解决问题，反而会让争议持续数十年，并使宗教继承问题永久政治化。届时国家虽控制形式，却失去实质认同。这种结果只会造成长期分裂。
国际层面上，达赖喇嘛早已不仅是西藏地区人物，而是全球知名的宗教领袖与和平象征。他长期倡导非暴力、慈悲与跨文化对话，在全球拥有广泛影响力。关于其继承问题的任何政治操作，都必然受到国际舆论关注。今天的国家形象，不能仅由经济实力和军事力量决定，也越来越取决于其如何对待少数民族、文化差异与宗教自由。若一个政府被普遍视为试图控制宗教领袖继承，其国际信誉难免受损。真正希望获得全球尊重的国家，应展示制度自信与文明包容，而不是对精神领域进行管制。
更深层次来看，西藏问题折射的是现代国家治理的一项基本原则：国家权力必须存在边界。国家负责道路、税收、治安、教育、外交等公共事务，这是现代政治共同体的正常功能。但人的信仰、灵魂归属与终极意义追求，则属于个人与社群的精神空间。当国家开始决定谁可以被信仰、谁能够继承宗教地位时，就意味着政治权力进入本不属于它的领域。任何无限扩张的权力，最终都会损害自身合法性。
一个成熟的国家，并不会因为允许宗教自治而削弱自身。相反，懂得克制的国家更容易获得人民信任。尊重宗教传统，允许文化差异，不代表失去与放弃；保障信仰自由，也不代表威胁。真正稳定的社会，从来不是所有声音一致，而是不同声音能够和平共存。真正强大的国家，也不是控制一切，而是知道哪些事情不应该控制。
中共政府对达赖喇嘛转世制度的政治控制，从根本上缺乏宗教合法性，进一步加剧了民族之间的矛盾，扩大藏人与汉人的心理距离，并损害国家在国际社会中的信誉。它看似展现中共的权力，实则暴露其政权的不安全感；看似维护秩序，实则制造长期不信任。任何依赖强制维系的稳定，都是脆弱的。
西藏问题若要走向真正的和解与稳定，其前提之一，就是让宗教回归宗教，让政治止于边界。政府可以维护社会秩序，可以保障法律框架，可以确保公共安全，但不应决定谁是达赖喇嘛。这个决定应当属于藏传佛教传统、僧团体系与信仰共同体。唯有如此，才能使继承具有真正的精神合法性，也才能减少政治对立。
历史已经证明，权力可以统治土地，却难以统治人心；行政命令可以改变制度，却难以改变信仰。
任何国家若希望获得长久稳定与真正认同，必须明白一个简单而深刻的道理：文化可以被尊重，宗教可以被保护，灵魂不能被任命。
一个政府可以管理土地，最不应统治人的灵魂。
编辑：张宇 校对：周敏 翻译：戈冰
The CCP is the Greatest “Separatist” in Action (Tibet / Tubo Edition)
By Zhang Zhijun
In 2026, the CCP authorities promulgated the “Law of the People’s Republic of China on Promoting Ethnic Unity and Progress” to propagate Party compliance education and suppress the cultural inheritance of ethnic minorities, further widening ethnic fractures at the institutional level. In its actual conduct, the Chinese Communist Party is “manufacturing division” and “exacerbating antagonism,” yet it weaponizes the label of “separatism” to accuse others.
As the number of exiled Tibetans exceeds 90,000 registered voters worldwide, their successful parliamentary elections have demonstrated remarkable political capability. Furthermore, the Dalai Lama was honored with the 68th Grammy Award, marking a significant international milestone for Tibetan spiritual culture in spreading the concepts of compassion and peace. Conversely, the CCP authorities arrested Zhang Yadi, who returned to the country after promoting Tibetan culture abroad, prosecuting and detaining her on charges such as “endangering national security” and “splittism.”
The Tibet issue has long been not merely a political topic, but a comprehensive issue involving civilizational traditions, ethnic identity, religious beliefs, historical memory, and modern modes of governance. If one comprehends the Tibet issue solely through the lenses of territorial integrity, administrative sovereignty, or national security, one often overlooks its most core and sensitive dimension—namely, Tibet’s unique cultural system and the deep-seated position of Tibetan Buddhism within the local social structure.
For Tibetans, religion is not an dispensable part of private life; rather, it constitutes the vital foundation for language transmission, educational systems, ethical concepts, festival customs, community organization, and even individual identity. Monasteries are not merely religious venues; they have also long undertaken the functions of educational hubs, cultural preservation centers, and social coordination mechanisms.
Any external intervention targeted at religious institutions is never just a policy-level adjustment, but an intrusion into the cultural lifeblood of an entire nation.
The reason the Tibet issue continues to garner international attention is precisely because it is not just a problem of regional governance, but a question of how a modern state confronts historical civilizations, minority cultures, and religious freedom. Many countries around the world face the challenges of multicultural governance, but what truly tests a nation’s maturity should not be how it uniformizes differences, but how it respects differences within a unified political framework. Tibet is precisely such a quintessential case. Here, there exists both a highly distinctive religious tradition and a potent historical memory paired with a sense of cultural agency; any mode of governance that relies purely on administrative decrees will find it difficult to reach the essence of the problem.
Among numerous controversies, one of the most symbolic and internationally scrutinized issues is the Chinese government’s intervention into the reincarnation system of the Dalai Lama. The Dalai Lama is not only the paramount spiritual leader of the Gelug school of Tibetan Buddhism, but also a symbolic figure of compassion, wisdom, and cultural continuity in the hearts of the Tibetan people. Over the past several centuries, the institution of the Dalai Lama has transcended being a mere religious office and has become a vital component of the collective memory of Tibetan society. For believers, the Dalai Lama represents not just a single individual, but the continuity of a spiritual tradition.
The Dalai Lama’s reincarnation system itself possesses profound religious connotations. According to Tibetan Buddhist tradition, after a high lama passes away, he may return to the world by means of reincarnation to continue propagating the Dharma and benefiting all sentient beings. Furthermore, the search for the reincarnated soul boy is not an election or an appointment in the modern sense; rather, it is a complex and sacred set of religious protocols. This process typically includes clues from the predecessor’s final testaments, meditation and visions of high lamas, divine oracles from dharma protectors, revelations from sacred lakes, specific auspicious signs, the identification of personal items left behind from the previous life by candidate children, and the collective verification by a monastic council of senior monks. The reason this process is universally accepted does not lie in any legal authorization, but rather because believers possess faith in its religious significance and are willing to accept its outcome. In other words, the core foundation of the reincarnation system is the recognition of the faith community, rather than the permission of state power.
However, in recent years, the Beijing authorities have publicly stated multiple times that the recognition of the next Dalai Lama must receive the approval of the Chinese government, emphasizing that the central government possesses the so-called “final decision-making power.” This formulation implies that the state is attempting to use administrative power to intervene in the succession of a religious leader, bringing what originally belonged to the internal affairs of a religious community into a framework of political control. In 2025, Chinese officials explicitly declared once again that the future reincarnation of the Dalai Lama will be spearheaded by the Chinese government, rather than being determined by religious institutions designated by the current Dalai Lama. This stance has triggered widespread anxiety within Tibetan society and among believers. The government’s leadership over this process has moved past a general policy dispute and touched upon a more fundamental question: whether a modern state has the right to determine a religious spiritual leader.
The crux of the matter lies in the fact that religious authority and political authority stem from completely different sources of legitimacy.
Political power derives from constitutions, laws, institutions, and the state apparatus; its core function is to manage public order, provide security guarantees, and maintain the functioning of society. Religious authority, conversely, derives from faith, tradition, ethical influence, and spiritual identity; its core function is to respond to human internal needs and provide a sense of meaning and moral direction. The two can coexist and interact, but they should not substitute for one another. A government may be able to control administrative procedures, propaganda systems, and organizational resources, yet it cannot command people to sincerely believe in who possesses the orthodoxy validated by faith. Without the recognition of the religious community, even an individual possessing an official title will find it difficult to acquire true spiritual authority. History has proven time and again that a state can appoint a position, but it can never manufacture faith.
From the principle of religious freedom, no government should determine who a religious leader is. Modern civilized societies universally recognize that religious groups possess the right to handle their internal affairs based on their own doctrines, including leadership succession, doctrinal interpretation, ritual arrangements, and organizational governance. The Pope of Catholicism is elected by the church hierarchy; Islamic religious scholars derive their influence from religious traditions; and the status of high Buddhist lamas similarly stems from the recognition of the monastic community and believers. If a state can determine the reincarnation of the Dalai Lama, then theoretically, it can also determine the choice of bishops, popes, imams, or other religious leaders. This clearly violates the universal principle of freedom of belief and constitutes an excessive extension of state power into the spiritual lives of citizens. A truly confident and mature nation should safeguard religious freedom rather than replace religion itself.
From the perspective of Tibetan historical tradition, the institution of the Dalai Lama has never been a system of state appointment from beginning to end; instead, it is built upon mechanisms that evolved over a long period within the religious system itself. Historically, Tibet long possessed a tradition of high autonomy. The relationship between successive central dynasties and Tibet was complex, embodying both a religious priest-patron relationship and a political alliance relationship, rather than direct rule in the sense of a modern nation-state. Historical political interactions, religious exchanges, and strategic arrangements do not mean that a modern government naturally inherits the right of religious determination.
Chinese official narratives frequently cite the Qing Dynasty’s “Golden Urn” lottery system as the basis for their intervention, but the historical facts are far more complex than this claim. The Golden Urn lottery was not implemented every single time, nor was it the sole procedure; the validation of reincarnations still relied on confirmation within the religious hierarchy. Even during the imperial era, the central political power played a role of validation and recognition rather than a dominant, comprehensive role. In other words, historical central governments never issued regulatory documents requiring all reincarnations to be submitted for approval in the way the modern CCP administrative state does. In 2007, China promulgated the “Measures on the Management of the Reincarnation of Living Buddhas in Tibetan Buddhism” (commonly known as Order No. 5), which mandates that the reincarnation of Living Buddhas must undergo government review and approval. This is actually an extension of the bureaucratic management apparatus of a modern regime into the religious domain, rather than a simple “restoration of tradition.”
In 1995, after the passing of the 10th Panchen Lama, the Dalai Lama recognized a six-year-old boy as the 11th Panchen Lama, but the boy subsequently disappeared and has not appeared in public to this day. The Chinese government subsequently designated an alternative Panchen Lama. Although the official appointee possesses the backing of the state, he has consistently failed to garner organic recognition within Tibetan society. Tibetans still regard the missing boy as the true Panchen Lama.
This has become one of the most controversial religious succession events globally, and it illustrates a reality: religious authority cannot be manufactured by administrative decrees.
To re-interpret the relationship between ancient empires and religion through the administrative logic of the modern nation-state, and to subsequently assert on this basis that the contemporary state possesses the right of final adjudication, not only lacks historical continuity but also constitutes a political re-writing.
From the perspective of modern governance logic, excessive government intervention in religious affairs often produces the exact opposite of the desired effect. If a state attempts to control symbols of faith, it will only deepen public mistrust and transform what were originally negotiable religious issues into matters of identity, dignity, and historical memory. For a region like Tibet, which possesses intense cultural characteristics and spiritual traditions, respecting tradition is far more conducive to long-term stability than enforcing compulsory management. Suppressing identity will not eliminate identity, but will instead reinforce it; intervening in faith will not weaken faith, but will instead endow it with greater symbolic power. The experiences of many countries demonstrate that when cultural groups feel respected, it is easier to forge a cooperative relationship; conversely, when they feel negated, it easily engenders long-term alienation.
For example, in handling the French-language cultural identity of Quebec, Canada did not simply adopt methods of suppression. Instead, through bilingual policies, local autonomy arrangements, and institutional guarantees for French culture, it ensured that although independent voices have long existed in Quebec, the region as a whole remains within the federal framework of Canada. Respecting cultural differences has, conversely, strengthened the overall cohesion of the nation.
To take another example, when faced with the national identity issue of Scotland, the United Kingdom chose to establish the Scottish Parliament, expand local autonomy, and permit the expression of political aspirations through referendums. Although divergences still exist, institutionalized respect has lowered the probability of intense confrontation, enabling conflicts to be resolved within political processes.
A contrary example, however, is the Northern Ireland conflict. For a long period, certain local groups felt marginalized in terms of political representation, religious identity, and cultural status, which ultimately led to decades of violent conflict and societal fracturing. It was not until the peace agreement established a power-sharing mechanism and recognized plural identities that the situation gradually stabilized.
Another example is the relationship between Spain and Catalonia. Catalonia possesses a unique language and historical traditions. When mutual trust is lacking between the central government and regional identity, political tensions escalate rapidly; conversely, when cultural autonomy, language protection, and space for local governance are granted, societal relations become relatively moderated.
These cases illustrate that the stability of a modern state does not derive from the elimination of differences, but rather from the management of differences. If cultural groups feel that their language, beliefs, and history are respected, they will be more willing to participate in the construction of the community; if they long experience negation and suppression, it easily engenders intergenerational mistrust and psychological alienation. Respecting multiculturalism is not a sign of state weakness, but is rather an manifestation of mature governance.
Furthermore, political intervention into the religious succession system is also highly liable to manufacture a “dual legitimacy crisis.” A government can control media, rituals, and institutions, yet it can hardly control faith itself. If, in the future, the Chinese government designates an officially sanctioned Dalai Lama, while the exiled Tibetan society and the vast body of believers recognize another Dalai Lama generated through traditional protocols, then the world may simultaneously witness two competing Dalai Lamas—one possessing state backing, and the other possessing the backing of the believers. Such a situation would not only fail to resolve the problem, but would instead cause the controversy to persist for decades and permanently politicize the issue of religious succession. When that time comes, although the state may control the outward form, it will lose substantial recognition. This outcome will only result in long-term division.
On the international level, the Dalai Lama has long ceased to be a figure limited to the Tibet region, but is rather a globally renowned religious leader and a symbol of peace. He has long advocated for non-violence, compassion, and cross-cultural dialogue, possessing extensive influence across the globe. Any political manipulation regarding his succession issue will inevitably draw the focus of international public opinion. Today’s national image cannot be determined solely by economic strength and military power; increasingly, it also depends upon how a nation treats ethnic minorities, cultural differences, and religious freedom. If a government is universally perceived as attempting to control the succession of a religious leader, its international credibility will inevitably suffer damage. A nation that truly hopes to attain global respect should demonstrate institutional confidence and civilizational tolerance, rather than imposing controls over the spiritual domain.
Looking from a deeper level, the Tibet issue reflects a fundamental principle of modern state governance: state power must have boundaries. The state is responsible for public affairs such as roads, taxation, public security, education, and diplomacy; these are the normal functions of a modern political community. However, an individual’s faith, the belonging of the soul, and the pursuit of ultimate meaning belong to the spiritual space of the individual and the community. When the state begins to determine who can be believed in and who can inherit a religious status, it means that political power has entered a domain where it fundamentally does not belong. Any power that expands without limit will ultimately undermine its own legitimacy.
A mature nation does not weaken itself by allowing religious autonomy. On the contrary, a state that exercises restraint more easily wins the trust of its people. Respecting religious traditions and permitting cultural differences do not equate to loss or abandonment; safeguarding freedom of belief does not constitute a threat. A truly stable society is never one where all voices are identical, but one where different voices can peacefully coexist. A truly powerful nation, moreover, does not control everything, but knows what should not be controlled.
The Chinese Communist Party government’s political control over the reincarnation system of the Dalai Lama fundamentally lacks religious legitimacy. It further exacerbates inter-ethnic contradictions, widens the psychological distance between Tibetans and Han Chinese, and damages the nation’s credibility within the international community. While it appears to demonstrate the power of the CCP, it actually exposes the regime’s sense of insecurity; while it appears to maintain order, it actually creates long-term distrust. Any stability that relies on coercion to sustain itself is fragile.
If the Tibet issue is to move toward true reconciliation and stability, one of its prerequisites is to let religion return to religion and let politics stop at its borders. The government can maintain social order, safeguard the legal framework, and ensure public safety, but it should not determine who the Dalai Lama is. This decision should belong to the Tibetan Buddhist tradition, the monastic community, and the community of faith. Only in this way can the succession possess genuine spiritual legitimacy, and only thus can political antagonism be reduced.
History has already proven that power can rule over land, but can hardly rule over hearts and minds; administrative decrees can change systems, but can hardly change faith.
If any nation hopes to achieve long-lasting stability and true identity, it must understand a simple yet profound truth: culture can be respected, religion can be protected, but the soul cannot be appointed.
A government can manage the land, but it should least of all rule over the human soul.
Editor: Zhang Yu Proofreader: Zhou Min Translator: Ge Bing
