Reportage – 2006

The singing nuns: Violins vs violence

Lhundub Sangmo and Rinzin Choekyi [ click here for print size   2.8M ]

MCLEOD GANJ, India, 15 December 2006 — They caused as much of a furore as a bull in a China shop. Except that this was no pretty porcelain parlour but Chinese-occupied Tibet. And instead of a bellicose bovine, here was a group of placid, peace-loving Buddhist nuns whose apostle was none other than the Dalai Lama himself.

Nicknamed the Singing Nuns of Lhasa, their only crime was raising a voice against the oppressive Chinese regime and its suppression of civil liberties. Rinzin Choekyi and Lhundub Sangmo were among a group of 14 political prisoners who served a rigorous sentence for participating in peaceful protests and shouting slogans such as ‘Free Tibet’ and ‘Long live the Dalai Lama’. After completing their prison term, these doughty sisters took another courageous step: they crossed the Himalayas and escaped to India.

Freedom was theirs at last if only in another country. They were all set to make a fresh beginning towards achieving their long-cherished goals. And the first step was to stand up and tell the world their heroic tale..

REBELS WITH A PAUSE
The year was 1990. Choekyi, then 21, and Sangmo, 23, belonged to different nunneries in Lhasa. Young but firm in their beliefs, each felt disconcerted by the monstrous shackles restricting freedom of religion and culture in Tibet. "We were deprived of basic human rights," recalls Sangmo. "Restrictions were put on the nunnery. We weren’t even allowed to put up photos of our beloved leader, His Holiness the Dalai Lama, who has been living in exile for so many years. We couldn't bear such injustice and decided to demonstrate."

Sangmo and 12 other nuns planned a protest during the Tibetan Opera festival at the Norbulingka, the Dalai Lama's summer palace. Even as they were preparing for the demonstration, the Chinese police read their intentions and cracked down on them. "When we saw them coming, we started raising slogans in a hurry. We were beaten and thrown like logs in two jeeps which took us to Gutsa Detention Centre," recalls Sangmo.

A week later it was Choekyi’s turn. As part of a group of six nuns from Shugseb nunnery, she carried a Tibetan flag on Lhasa’s Barkhor Street and loudly reiterated her right to a free motherland. Moments later, she and her co-protesters were beaten and put on a truck to Gutsa.

BLOOD AND GUTS AT GUTSA
Chinese methods of torture are known for their extreme barbarism and cruelty. These sisters of mercy were shown little mercy at Gutsa. Arms tied behind their backs, they were suspended from the ceiling. The nuns were then given electric shocks, their faces burnt with cigarette stubs, and dogs let loose on them. Their heads were banged against walls and they were beaten relentlessly till they passed urine and lost consciousness.

The torture and interrogation continued until they received their prison terms two months later. During this period, no one from the outside world was allowed to meet them and they were nearly starved. "We thought that we would die. There seemed no chance of survival," says Choekyi recounting the horror of it all. They were charged as ‘counter-revolutionaries’. Sangmo received a sentence of four years and Choekyi of seven years. After spending two months at Gutsa, they were moved to Drapchi — the foremost Chinese prison in Tibet, known for physical and mental torture.

I DO NOT CONFESS
Prisoners were punished with ‘reform-through-education’ and ‘reform-through-labour’. ‘Reform-through-education’ included indoctrination in communism and the laws of the country, and forced confession of the prisoners’ ‘fault’. "We had to denounce His Holiness the Dalai Lama and take tests to show how much we had reformed. If we did not denounce him or show ‘reform’, we were beaten," says Choekyi.

’Reform-through-labour’ involved long hours of arduous tasks such as cleaning the septic tanks of Lhasa’s public toilets, working in the vegetable gardens or spinning wool. "We cleared the septic tanks for three years. We were not equipped with protection from the splashing faeces. We stank from that all the time," says Sangmo.

As the torment continued unrelentingly, their spirits grew indomitable and it became easy for the nuns to defy orders. In 1992, they were ordered not to wear the traditional Tibetan dress (Chupa) on New Year day (in February-March, as Tibetans follow the lunar calendar). However, the nuns scoffed at the order and defiantly donned the Chupa. The fuming prison guards lashed out at the nuns.

JAILHOUSE ROCK?
In 1993, Sangmo and Choekyi along with 12 other inmates sneaked a tape-recorder into their prison cell and recorded songs expressing their devotion to the Dalai Lama and hopes for the freedom of their homeland. The cassette was smuggled out of prison and heard far and wide. "Through these songs we wanted to tell our families that our spirits had not been broken," reveals Choekyi. "In fact, they had caught us recording on the second night itself. They beat us badly but we did not feel any pain. It had become so routine that it did not affect us at all. Instead we laughed when they beat us."

As punishment, the Chinese authorities extended their prison sentences by five years and declared the tape recordings by the 14 nuns an act of ‘counter-revolution’ and ‘division of the motherland’. "We never knew our songs would reach the outside world and we would be known as the Singing Nuns," says Choekyi.

In 1998, five years after the Singing Nuns first raised their voice in musical protest, there was a larger revolt in the prison by around 300 inmates. While the Chinese hoisted their flag in the prison courtyard, the prisoners — both political and criminal — showed their disapproval by shouting: "No Chinese flags on Tibetan soil!" The guards tried to force the nuns back into their cells but they continued shouting slogans. When the prison guards couldn't control the situation, armed police were called in. These men struck the shouting prisoners with their gun-butts, kicked them and banged their heads against the walls until there was blood splattered everywhere. The beatings continued for several days but the prisoners were adamant. They refused to write letters of confession or sing the Chinese anthem. Eight prisoners died following the 1998 protests, due to maltreatment and solitary confinement.

THE QUIT TIBET MOVEMENT
The hellish life lasted nine years for Sangmo and 12 for Choekyi. Sangmo was released in 1999 and Choekyi in 2002, but life wasn't any less painful for them. Their health was ruined, they couldn't join the nunnery again, and it was hard to find work given that they were former political prisoners. To add to their woes, they were under constant surveillance. At one of their meetings in Lhasa, the duo decided to flee to India and join the Dalai Lama there. "We hired a guide to take us to Nepal," says Sangmo. The journey was relatively easy for them compared to other escapees, who make perilous journeys across the Himalayas. "The most difficult part was the eight-hour walk in the night to cross over to Nepal. Our guide was a good man and very clever," she says. They paid the guide 4,000 Chinese Yuan (Rs 20,000) each.

FROM LHASA TO THE LAMA
"My great desire in life was to meet the Dalai Lama," says Choekyi. "On June 17, 2006 when I finally saw him, it was like a dream. I became numb when I saw him." Sangmo too experienced similar emotions: "I couldn't stop crying when I saw His Holiness, I had to double-check if it was for real. Our joy knew no bounds."

The Dalai Lama was appreciative of their grit and determination. "It's good that you didn't die in prison, the Chinese like to kill people," he said, and added, "You must now concentrate on your health and education."

Rinzin Choekyi and Lhundub Sangmo have been through horrific excesses, yet survived miraculously. "We do feel anger at the Chinese who tortured us, but at the same time we feel sorry for them. They were only accumulating bad karma for themselves," says Sangmo with a smile.

That smile says it all. While they have put the terrible past behind them, they are now bracing to continue their struggle afresh and spread their message through verse. Countering violence with violins, the Singing Nuns’ music is ready to transcend all boundaries..

SONG OF SADNESS
We've sung a song of sadness
We've sung it from Drapchi prison
Like the happy and joyful snow mountains
We've sung this song for the sake of freedom
Previously, a spiritual realm of dharma
Now, is changed to a barbaric prison ground
Even at the cost of our lives, we Tibetans
Will never lose our courage
O what a sad fate we Tibetans have!
To be tortured mercilessly by barbarians
We don't have freedom
Under the yoke of these barbarians

Published in 6 December issue of Femina magazine (Bombay, India)