Greg C. Bruno

China. A geo-political buzzword since ... well, almost forever? Be it the Middle Kingdom, a republic (sort of), or today's one-party state, China has fascinated foreign governments and businesses and industries. Of course, governments are all about power, the exercise of it, but also how it uses that power. Journalist and academician Greg Bruno examines how China has exercised its power vis-a-vis its neighbor, Tibet. Could poor Tibet be more crucially located geographically?, bordering China, India, Bhutan, Nepal, and Myanmar. China's overthrow of the independent Tibetan government in 1950 has seen almost nothing but a Tibetan diaspora, as Bruno writes: " ... displacement, unemployment, addiction, statelessness ...." It is a sad and cautionary tale that Bruno tells, and I genuinely wish I could have read it with much more relish than actually occurred, yet sometimes an author and a reader just don't mix. Bruno deserves credit for thorough, calmly passionate and informative book.… (plus d'informations)

Sometime in October 2011 my wife and I unexpectedly ran into the Dalai Lama in San Diego. It wasn’t that we didn’t expect to see him—we were there that day to hear him speak in front of thousands at San Diego State University—but we didn’t expect to encounter him, with his small entourage, out in front of the Viejas Arena trying to find his way in. Somehow, in all the hustle, we seemed to be the only ones who noticed him, and naturally we were too flabbergasted to know what to do. He also looked pained to be cornered by us. My wife wanted to shake his hand, which he politely refused, but he did allow us to take a picture of him before we pointed out the door (which he had obviously already seen) and he left.

We learned later the reason why he didn’t want to shake my wife’s hand. A few months later he revealed that he believed the Chinese had sent women assassins to poison him, possibly while trying to shake his hand. The assassins were said to be Tibetans, but I can see why he would want to play it safe.

Greg Bruno cites this incident in his book Blessings from Beijing: Inside China’s Soft-Power War on Tibet. He uses it in the book, and his publisher uses it on the back of the dustjacket, as an example of the “soft-power war” he says China is waging on Tibet. I don’t quite know what’s “soft-power” about an assassination attempt—I’d say killing the leader of the Tibetan people would be a hard power play myself—but it doesn’t really matter. Despite the prominence this incident is given in advertising, Bruno doesn’t have any information about it that he didn’t read in the newspaper.

In reality, Bruno’s book isn’t about “China’s Soft-Power War.” Bruno doesn’t have the access either to Chinese diplomats and politicians or the Tibetan community to write about China’s actions against Tibet. The closest he gets to writing about the topic is the little he gleaned about China’s pressuring Nepal to put the Tibetans in line. In reality, this is a book (which seems to grow out of various articles Bruno has written) about the Tibetan diaspora, and how the current generation of Tibetans is adjusting to its situation in the world. For example, Bruno can’t exactly claim that substance abuse problems among Tibetans in India is part of a “soft-power war” on Tibet, but he devotes an entire chapter to that. Other chapters revolve around such things as Tibetans’ inability to own land in India, the question of Tibetans claiming citizenship in their host countries, and whether or not young Tibetans will retain their heritage in New York. They’re interesting topics, but many of the book’s chapters barely mention China.

Each chapter revolves around some theme in the Tibetan exile community. It opens with some contact that Bruno had with a Tibetan exile regarding a challenge facing the Tibetan community—often an encounter as superficial as my own meeting with the Dalai Lama—and then fleshes the matter out largely using data from published sources. Unfortunately Bruno doesn’t know either Chinese or Tibetan and doesn’t have much access to the Tibetan leadership. He also was based in places like the United Arab Emirates, not known for its Tibetan population, during much of the time he was writing the book. He has no choice but to rely on other people’s work. Much of the time I found myself wishing I was reading Bruno’s sources instead of his book.

Bruno’s book turns out to be quite biased. Naturally he doesn’t like China and makes that clear. But he also attacks Tibetan factions that don’t back the Dalai Lama, sometimes cruelly. What struck me as particularly nasty was how he dealt with the monks at Serpom Thoesam Norling Monastery. The monks at this monastery broke with the Dalai Lama over his position in the Dorje Sugden controversy. Bruno makes seem like they worship some bloodthirsty deity, but naturally I’m sure the truth is more complex than that. Unannounced, and not telling them he’s a journalist, Bruno shows up at the monastery, where he claims they pray for the death of the Dalai Lama. He makes jabs at the monk he meets there, insulting both his grasp of English and the condition of his teeth. (As a man with bad teeth myself, I like to think it’s not a moral failing.) The monk does in fact express frustration with the policies of the Dalai Lama, and says that things won’t get better until after he dies. But what else can a frustrated person say about a world leader who holds office for life? I’ve heard devout Catholics say similar things about the Pope, but it’s not the same as a prayer for death. This chapter—entitled “Beady Eyes and a Dead Lama”—seems not only mean but a severe lapse in journalistic ethics. Bruno goes to this fellow’s house (a man who, incidentally, is an ordinary monk, not a public figure), catches him off-guard, doesn’t let him know he’s talking on the record, barely understands him (even though it’s the monk who makes the effort to speak Bruno’s language, not the other way around), and insults the man’s looks. Meanwhile, Bruno doesn’t even bother to ask if he can see the interior of the monastery’s temple. He spends an hour there, collects a little local color but doesn’t manage to gather any material that’s actually relevant to his argument, and then sets himself up an expert over the place. What really rubs me the wrong way about this chapter is the way Bruno sits in judgement over one faction of an oppressed people in favor of another faction of that same people. That really seems like something the Tibetans need to figure out for themselves.

I am glad I read Bruno’s book. I didn't know much about the Tibetan diaspora, and I learned a number of things. I was particularly interested in the rifts within the Tibetan community itself. But Bruno gives the impression of someone on the outside gazing in, someone who really wants to be an authority but doesn’t quite know how to do that. If I knew of a better book on the subject I would recommend it instead.… (plus d'informations)

Greg Bruno attempts to illuminate the methods China is using to disrupt, divide, and breakdown Tibet and its people. The book often refers to Mao's invasion as well as the 2008 Olympics. Issues relating to China's "soft power war" are definitely worth writing about; however, Bruno makes no secret of his bias and affiliation toward the Tibetan religion and culture. Instead of charging the reader up, the whole book reads as if your friend is chatting with you over coffee about an issue far away.

Bruno flirted with the feudalism of the Tibetans, but described his stance on a personal narrative. Objectively, China does enforce its control and power over the Tibetan state as any nation does to their land. This review is not to demonize Tibetans or defend China, but rather to clarify the position of the book.

I gave it 3 stars because it was a good read. It was well written and with many important points to reflect upon. This is not an easy topic, and overall, Bruno did well.… (plus d'informations)