OPINION
China’s Oct 7, 1950, start of the invasion of Tibet changed the geopolitics of Asia and Beijing has now turned the territory into a living laboratory of surveillance while seeking to raise an entire generation of Tibetans who would think of themselves as Chinese first and Tibetan never; but the Tibetan struggle has endured and their spirit remains resilient, writes Aritra Banerjee.*
On 7 October 1950, the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) of the newly founded People’s Republic of China (PRC) crossed into Tibet’s eastern province of Kham. What followed was not merely a border incursion—it was the beginning of the end of Tibet’s centuries-long independence. Eighty thousand Chinese soldiers advanced across the plateau, overwhelming the ill-equipped Tibetan army of barely 8,000 men. Within months, eastern Tibet fell, and the road to Lhasa lay open.
For the Tibetans, this day marks the beginning of the occupation. For the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), it was the “Peaceful Liberation of Tibet.” History, however, records it for what it was: an invasion and annexation that changed the geopolitics of Asia.
By 1951, under duress, Tibetan representatives signed the Seventeen-Point Agreement, acknowledging Chinese sovereignty in exchange for promises of autonomy and religious freedom—promises that were swiftly broken.
Seventy-five years later, October 7 remains a day of mourning in Tibetan history—a reminder of a nation erased by force, yet still alive through its people, culture, and government in exile.
The Shadow of 1950: A Legacy of Resistance and Control
China’s invasion of Tibet was as strategic as it was ideological. Tibet offered control over the water towers of Asia, a high-ground advantage against India, and an entry into the Himalayas. It also fit neatly into Mao Zedong’s vision of “liberating” territories historically linked to China—Xinjiang, Inner Mongolia, and Tibet—under one red banner.
What began with the PLA’s entry into Chamdo in 1950 evolved into decades of military occupation, cultural suppression, and demographic engineering. The destruction of over 6,000 monasteries during the Cultural Revolution and the imprisonment of monks who resisted Chinese indoctrination remain among the darkest chapters in modern Asian history.
Tibet today is a fortress of surveillance. Monasteries are monitored, religious expression is curtailed, and the Tibetan language is steadily being replaced by Mandarin in schools. Yet, the spirit of resistance persists—carried by the Dalai Lama’s government-in-exile in Dharamshala and the voices of millions who refuse to let Tibet vanish from the world’s conscience.
The Disappeared Panchen Lama: A Life Stolen, a Faith Subjugated
Perhaps the most poignant symbol of China’s control over Tibetan spirituality is the disappearance of Gedhun Choekyi Nyima, the 11th Panchen Lama. Recognised by the Dalai Lama in May 1995, he was abducted by Chinese authorities three days later at the age of six. He has not been seen since.
In his place, Beijing installed its own candidate, Gyaltsen Norbu, the son of two Communist Party members. Norbu lives under state protection in Beijing and frequently praises the Party’s “guidance” in his public appearances. Tibetans, however, call him Panchen Zuma—the false Panchen.
The Panchen Lama is not a ceremonial figure. In Tibetan Buddhist tradition, the Panchen Lama and the Dalai Lama recognise each other’s reincarnations. By controlling the Panchen Lama, Beijing seeks to control the next Dalai Lama. The stakes are not merely religious—they are existential for Tibet’s identity.
Despite international calls for his release, including by Human Rights Watch and the United States Senate in 2025, marking the 30th year of his disappearance, China remains unmoved. It insists that the Panchen Lama is “living a normal life” and “does not wish to be disturbed.”
The silence around Gedhun Choekyi Nyima reflects more than one child’s abduction. It represents China’s determination to extinguish the soul of a civilisation by capturing its reincarnations.
The Classroom as a Battlefield: China’s Boarding Schools in Tibet
Beyond monasteries and temples, Beijing’s most effective weapon of control is education. Nearly one million Tibetan children are now in Chinese-run boarding schools—many taken from their families at ages as young as four.
In these institutions, Mandarin is the sole language of instruction. Tibetan history and religion are excluded. The schools are presented as modernising initiatives, but their true purpose is assimilation. Children grow up unable to speak to their grandparents, alienated from their traditions, and indoctrinated in Party ideology.
In 2023, UN human rights experts condemned these schools as instruments of “cultural erasure.” They noted that the share of Tibetan children in residential schools far exceeds China’s national average, achieved by systematically closing local Tibetan schools.
The outcome is clear: an entire generation of Tibetans being raised to think of themselves as Chinese first and Tibetan never.
Technology and Total Control: The PLA’s Digital Occupation
If the 1950 invasion was about territorial conquest, the 21st-century occupation is about digital domination. The PLA and the Public Security Bureau have fused military-grade technology with civilian governance to turn Tibet into a living laboratory of surveillance.
Facial recognition cameras are installed in monasteries, marketplaces, and border towns. Every phone in the region must carry the National Anti-Fraud Centre app—ostensibly to prevent cybercrime, but in reality, a tool that harvests personal data and tracks movement.
A 2025 report titled Weaponising Big Data: Decoding China’s Digital Surveillance in Tibet, by Tibet Watch and Turquoise Roof, exposed how Beijing integrates biometric data, DNA records, and online behaviour into centralised databases. This allows authorities to predict, pre-empt, and neutralise dissent before it occurs.
Developers themselves have described Tibetan cities as “battlefields” where algorithms detect “threats to stability.” Tibet is not merely occupied—it is observed, quantified, and silenced through data.
The PLA’s presence complements this machinery. Dual-use infrastructure—highways, airbases, and railways—ensures that troops can mobilise within hours along the Himalayan frontier. What Beijing calls “development” is in reality militarisation by stealth.
Contrasts in the Himalayas: Indian Army’s People-Centric Approach
China’s control model stands in stark contrast to India’s approach in its border regions. While the PLA treats civilians as potential adversaries, the Indian Army’s Operation Sadbhavana in Kashmir and the Northeast focuses on education, healthcare, and community development.
Army Goodwill Schools, vocational programmes, and youth engagement initiatives like Mission Pehal are designed to build trust and empowerment. These projects have produced tangible results—reduced militancy, increased literacy, and improved civic engagement.
This difference reflects two ideologies: one rooted in coercion, the other in coexistence. Where the PLA enforces silence, the Indian Army builds dialogue.
The Environmental and Strategic Fallout
China’s occupation of Tibet is not just a human tragedy—it is an ecological one. The Tibetan Plateau, often called the “Third Pole,” holds the largest reserve of freshwater outside the Arctic and Antarctic. Its glaciers feed rivers that sustain nearly half of humanity, including the Brahmaputra, Mekong, and Yangtze.
China’s aggressive dam-building on the Yarlung Tsangpo (Brahmaputra) threatens downstream nations like India and Bangladesh. Military infrastructure—roads, airfields, and garrisons—accelerates permafrost melt and disrupts fragile ecosystems.
A 2025 report by the Institute for Security and Development Policy (ISDP) warned that militarisation in Tibet is triggering “irreversible ecological shifts” with global consequences. The plateau’s degradation will not remain a Tibetan problem—it will be an Asian catastrophe.
The Government in Exile: A Voice That Refuses to Fade
Since the Dalai Lama’s flight to India in 1959, the Central Tibetan Administration (CTA) in Dharamshala has served as the legitimate representative of the Tibetan people. For 75 years, it has preserved Tibetan language, culture, and democracy on Indian soil.
Through international advocacy, the CTA exposes human rights violations and pushes for the Middle Way Approach—genuine autonomy for Tibet under Chinese sovereignty. Its efforts have inspired legislation such as the United States’ Promoting a Resolution to the Tibet-China Dispute Act (2024), which urges Beijing to restart dialogue.
India’s role, though cautious, has been indispensable. By hosting the CTA and over 100,000 refugees across 45 settlements, India has upheld a humanitarian tradition while balancing a delicate relationship with China.
Across the world, Tibetan activists continue to raise their voice—from protests in London against a Chinese “mega-embassy” to demonstrations at the UN headquarters in New York in 2025. Their message is simple: Tibet may be occupied, but it is not forgotten.
Seventy-Five Years of Occupation, Seventy-Five Years of Defiance
October 7, 1950, was meant to be the day Tibet disappeared. Instead, it became the day Tibet’s struggle began.
For three generations, Tibetans have lived under a regime that seeks to erase their faith, language, and culture. Yet, their persistence—embodied in the Dalai Lama’s compassion, the CTA’s diplomacy, and the unyielding faith of ordinary Tibetans—remains a testament to resilience.
The Chinese government’s occupation of Tibet has altered not just its landscape but the moral landscape of Asia. The world’s silence, born of geopolitical caution, has allowed Beijing to rewrite history. But anniversaries such as October 7 remind us that memory is resistance.
Tibet’s mountains may be occupied, its rivers dammed, its temples watched—but its spirit endures. As long as Tibetans keep their faith and the world remembers their story, the flame of freedom, lit before the PLA crossed the Jinsha River, will never be extinguished.
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* Aritra Banerjee is a Defence, Foreign Affairs & Aerospace Journalist and co-author of The Indian Navy @75: Reminiscing the Voyage. Having spent his formative years in the United States before returning to India, he combines a global outlook with on-the-ground insight in his reporting. He holds a Master’s in International Relations, Security & Strategy from O.P. Jindal Global University, a Bachelor’s in Mass Media from the University of Mumbai, and Professional Education in Strategic Communications from King’s College London (War Studies). With experience across television, print, and digital media, he has written as a columnist for leading national and international publications and journals.)
His work includes coverage of major defence and aerospace events in Europe as well as extended field assignments in Kashmir’s conflict zones, where he engaged closely with local communities to build first-hand perspectives.
Outside journalism, he is an avid rock climber and trail runner.