The Dalai Lama Turns 90: Why China Still Fears Him

 

(ANALYSIS) China stands as a global giant, with the world’s second largest economy, an expanding military footprint and growing influence in international diplomacy. Yet for all its power, it remains deeply unsettled by a monk living in exile in the Indian Himalayas — the Dalai Lama, who will turn 90 on July 6.

The reason lies in what he symbolizes and what China has failed to control despite decades of effort.

The Dalai Lama, the spiritual head of Tibetan Buddhists — who number around 6 million worldwide, or 0.4% of China’s population of 1.4 billion — commands no army, holds no official position and leads no government, apart from one in exile.

READ: The Dalai Lama’s Struggle For Tibet And Religious Survival

Tibet, which China occupied in the early 1950s, has remained a thorn in its narrative of national unity. Beijing claims it liberated Tibet from feudal rule and brought development to the region. The Tibetan people, however, continue to hold on to their culture, language and spiritual leadership in defiance of that story. At the center of this quiet resistance, one of the world’s longest-running nonviolent political struggles, stands the Dalai Lama.

He fled to India in 1959 after a failed uprising against Chinese rule and has since lived in the Dharamshala area in India’s Himachal Pradesh state, where he set up a government in exile. Over the years, he gave up his political role to focus on spiritual teachings and global peace advocacy. Yet, China labels him a separatist and blocks any country from officially engaging with him.

In 2009, South African authorities denied the Dalai Lama a visa to attend a peace conference in Johannesburg, reportedly due to pressure from Beijing. In 2014, Pope Francis declined to meet him at the Vatican, reportedly to avoid straining relations with China, where the Holy See had been pursuing an agreement on the appointment of bishops.

The mere presence of this Buddhist monk at an international event can trigger diplomatic discomfort for the Chinese state.

Who will be the Dalai Lama’s successor?

China’s unease is now growing as the question of the Dalai Lama’s successor becomes urgent. The Dalai Lama recently confirmed that his spiritual lineage will continue after him.

He affirmed that the process of identifying his reincarnation will be guided by traditional Tibetan Buddhist practices and overseen by the Gaden Phodrang Trust, the institution that has represented him since his exile. He declared, once again, that the Chinese state has no role in this process.

China fears the Dalai Lama because he represents an alternative source of legitimacy and loyalty that lies beyond the state. His influence among Tibetans, both inside Tibet and across the world, keeps alive a shared identity that resists full absorption into the Chinese national story. By continuing to speak of cultural survival, spiritual freedom and Tibetan autonomy, he reminds the world — and Tibetans themselves — that the question of Tibet is unresolved.

What unsettles Beijing most is the prospect that his eventual successor, chosen outside its control, will carry that legacy forward, gaining global recognition and continuing to challenge China’s claim of unity and finality in Tibet. In a system that allows no rivals to party rule, even a symbolic figure who commands loyalty through faith and history poses a danger the state cannot easily contain.

The Dalai Lama’s continued influence also complicates China’s efforts to present itself as a unified, stable power on the world stage. His global standing undermines Beijing’s narrative of internal harmony. The succession issue also risks a split in spiritual authority, which could weaken China’s efforts to legitimise its control in Tibet and strain its diplomatic ties with countries hosting Tibetan communities or engaging with the exile leadership.

It’s not surprising that in 1995, when the Dalai Lama identified a six-year-old boy, Gedhun Choekyi Nyima, as the 11th Panchen Lama — the second-highest spiritual authority in Tibetan Buddhism, traditionally responsible for helping identify the reincarnation of the Dalai Lama — Chinese authorities took the boy and his family away.

Beijing then appointed its own Panchen Lama, Gyaincain Norbu, who now holds positions in state-affiliated political bodies and reaffirms loyalty to the Communist Party.

The original boy has become a symbol of enforced disappearance. Three decades later, there are no verified photographs, videos, or statements from him. The United Nations, the United States, Germany, Italy and several rights groups have repeatedly asked China to reveal his whereabouts. Beijing responds with vague claims that he is leading a normal life and wishes not to be disturbed.

The Panchen Lama’s case reveals the real concern driving China’s obsession with the Dalai Lama’s succession. Control over the next dalai lama would give Beijing a chance to install a loyal spiritual figure who endorses Chinese rule over Tibet. That would offer symbolic closure to a long-standing political problem.

But if the Dalai Lama’s followers recognize a successor born and raised outside China’s control, especially one chosen in accordance with traditional Tibetan practices, then a parallel spiritual authority would emerge, one that continues to challenge Beijing’s legitimacy in Tibet and influence worldwide opinion.

Tibetan Buddhism does not easily fit into the frameworks of power that China is used to. Spiritual leadership in this tradition is not handed down through institutions or elections. It is believed to continue through reincarnation, with the search for the next lama often led by visions, rituals and signs. These are traditions beyond the reach of law or party control.

Beijing’s insistence that the next dalai lama must be chosen using a Qing-era method of drawing lots from a golden urn, under state supervision, turns an ancient spiritual process into a bureaucratic one. The Dalai Lama and his followers have dismissed this method entirely.

The Dalai Lama’s global influence

The larger concern for China is that this spiritual battle is playing out globally. The Dalai Lama continues to attract followers around the world. Among those drawn to him are public figures like Richard Gere, a longtime friend and vocal advocate for Tibetan rights, and musicians like Tina Turner and Adam Yauch of the Beastie Boys, both of whom embraced Tibetan Buddhism under his influence.

The Dalai Lama’s lectures are attended by thousands, his books are translated into many languages and his words are quoted by leaders across political lines. In 1989, he received the Nobel Peace Prize. He has since met former United States presidents, European leaders and Japanese prime ministers, often to Beijing’s protest. His influence lies in shaping opinion, something authoritarian regimes cannot easily counter with tanks or trade deals.

The Dalai Lama’s global influence is remarkable given that he officially represents only the Tibetan school within the Mahayana tradition – a small branch of Buddhism. Tibetan Buddhism itself is followed by a minority within the global Buddhist population, which is largely composed of Theravada Buddhists across Southeast Asia.

There is a deeper irony here. While China spends billions to build soft power through Confucius Institutes, global infrastructure projects and state media, the Dalai Lama’s moral authority was built in exile, without state backing or financial power. His appeal cuts across religion, language and politics, rooted in compassion and human dignity.

China’s response to the Dalai Lama reveals a deeper miscalculation at the heart of its governance model — the belief that religion is secondary, even irrelevant, in the face of material progress and state power.

The Communist Party assumes that economic development, military strength and international diplomacy can eventually override the influence of faith. But the continued reverence for the Dalai Lama, especially among Tibetans born decades after he went into exile, shows that spiritual loyalty cannot be erased by infrastructure or propaganda. After all, Tibetan spirituality is not just an inward-looking tradition confined to monasteries or rituals. It is rooted in compassion, nonviolence and interdependence — values that remain deeply relevant in our world today.

India, meanwhile, remains central to this unfolding story. It hosts the Dalai Lama, shelters tens of thousands of Tibetan refugees and serves as the ground where the spiritual and political futures of Tibet are being shaped. While successive Indian governments have been careful in managing relations with China, the decision of whether to support the recognition of a future dalai lama as per Tibetan traditions may force a clearer stand.

It will affirm India’s commitment to religious freedom and democratic values, even if the decision to recognize the Dalai Lama’s successor is driven by geopolitical strategy.

This article has been published in partnership with Newsreel Asia.


Vishal Arora is an independent journalist based in New Delhi, India, who covers Asia and beyond. He serves as editor of @Newsreel_Asia and is a board member of The Media Project. He’s written for many outlets including The Wall Street Journal, The Diplomat and The Caravan.