The Buddha Party is a comprehensive study of the efforts by the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) to redefine Tibetan Buddhism to make it compatible with official narratives of Chinese history and national integration. The book builds on John Powers's earlier research on the competing historical narratives of Tibet advanced by Tibetan groups and the People's Republic of China, as well as the use of history as a tool of propaganda.
The book is primarily a study of official Chinese propaganda about Tibet and Tibetan Buddhism, and how the propaganda is disseminated among Han Chinese and Tibetan communities. Powers identifies three main themes in the propaganda narrative: (1) Tibet has been part of China for centuries; (2) Tibetans are happy as a result of Chinese largesse; and (3) any incidents that might be interpreted as evidence of discontent are not what they appear to be. However, he is interested not only in the content of the propaganda, most of which is well known to students of contemporary China and Tibet, but also in “the conceptual logic” that lies behind the propaganda and “the belief system” (p. 5) that sustains and lends credence to narratives advanced by the Party machine.
Although it draws on material and scholarship from earlier periods, the book focuses its investigation on the past decade—specifically the evolution of CCP propaganda in the wake of the widespread unrest that began in Tibetan areas in 2008. The Tibetan protests against CCP policies, and in some cases against CCP rule, prompted a renewed propaganda drive targeting Tibetan Buddhism. The demonstrations showed CCP leaders that many among the current generation of Tibetans had not bought into the official narrative about Tibet despite their education in the Chinese school system. Powers notes that authorities were particularly alarmed by the fact that many young Tibetan protestors deployed religious motifs as symbols of Tibetan identity and dissent (p. 19).
Whereas Party theorists had previously dismissed Buddhism as a remnant of the feudal past, which would eventually fade away in the face of modernization, after 2008 policy makers were determined to focus propaganda efforts on religion. The book draws on multiple sources—documents, including an official training manual to be used in the patriotic education of monks and nuns, as well as interviews with Tibetans inside and outside China—to show how the Party moved to shape understandings of Tibetan Buddhism in ways that subsumed it within the larger Chinese culture and within the authority of the CCP. Powers reminds us of the infamous remark by Tibet Autonomous Region Party Secretary (2006–11) Zhang Qingli that the Party is the real “living Buddha” for Tibetans and a “parent” to them (p. 47).
Powers also documents PRC efforts to control religious institutions by investing in Buddhist colleges and studies that influence the interpretation of Buddhist doctrines. He also documents the Party's efforts to control the institution of tülku reincarnation by setting guidelines for the recognition and validation of tülkus and for their subsequent education.Footnote 1 These regulations also apply to the Dalai Lama, who Chinese authorities insist will only legitimately reincarnate in China. Powers draws attention to the questionable historical studies drawn upon to justify Chinese state control over the process of recognizing Tibetan Buddhism's most revered bodhisattva.
One of the book's most important observations is that the work of propaganda has over the years involved multiple agencies—Party and government bodies as well as research, education, and religious institutions—such that official narratives of Tibet and Tibetan Buddhism have weaved themselves so thoroughly through mainstream society and the body politic that they are beyond the control of any one institution. Powers draws on his interactions in the classroom with Han Chinese students to argue that official narratives have taken firm root among Han Chinese. Powers rightly notes that propaganda efforts to redefine Tibetan Buddhism (and Tibetan culture and history) have been highly successful among Han Chinese. And he helpfully draws on the psychology literature to explain the appeal of the propaganda to mainstream Chinese audiences.
At the same time, Powers highlights the failure of the CCP to change Tibetan minds and documents continued Tibetan resistance to CCP propaganda. His interviews with seventeen monks and nuns who had been subjected to patriotic reeducation revealed that all saw nothing new in the “shit lies” (p. 71), as described by some of the interviewees, being presented about Tibetan history and religion. Although the focus of the book is on official propaganda, Powers could have usefully extended the discussion of Tibetan resistance to official attempts to redefine Tibetanness. He might have looked to the post-2008 renaissance in Tibetan-language literature and to the burgeoning online debate about Buddhism and what it means to be Tibetan in today's China.
Overall, The Buddha Party is an excellent book that will be essential reading for students of contemporary Tibet. It is a handy and accessible classroom resource for courses on contemporary China that address the PRC's ethnic policies and the status of the country's ethnic nationalities. The book focuses on Tibetans, but it is highly relevant for understanding Chinese nationalism and the narratives that underpin the Chinese Dream—Xi Jinping's vision for the great rejuvenation of China. It will also be helpful to those wishing to gain a greater understanding of current events in Xinjiang, where Islam is being similarly targeted as a threat to national integration and China's return to world power status.
