The Sino-Indian border’s hotting up:
Perched above 10,000 feet in the icy reaches of the eastern Himalayas, the town of Tawang is not only home to one of Tibetan Buddhism’s most sacred monasteries, but is also the site of a huge Indian military buildup.
Convoys of army trucks haul howitzers along rutted mountain roads. Soldiers drill in muddy fields. Military bases appear every half-mile in the countryside, with watchtowers rising behind concertina wire.
A road sign on the northern edge of town helps explain the reason for all the fear and the fury: the border with China is just 23 miles away; Lhasa, the Tibetan capital, 316 miles; and Beijing, 2,676 miles.
“The Chinese Army has a big deployment at the border, at Bumla,” said Madan Singh, a junior commissioned officer who sat with a half-dozen soldiers one afternoon sipping tea beside a fog-cloaked road. “That’s why we’re here.”
It all seems to be at the leg cocking-territory marking stage right now: more David Attenborough than John Simpson.
Tawang became part of modern India when Tibetan leaders signed a treaty with British officials in 1914 that established a border called the McMahon Line between Tibet and British-run India. Tawang fell south of the line. The treaty, the Simla Convention, is not recognized by China.
Interestingly, it’s not really recognized by Britain either anymore.
The Foreign Secretary was accused of undermining the Dalai Lama's talks with the Chinese authorities by updating Britain's position on Tibet.
Britain's stance dates back to the Simla accords of 1913 which laid down the boundaries between Tibet and British-ruled India. At the time, London recognised China's "suzerainty" over the Tibetan region, but crucially not its sovereignty.
Tawang used to be in suzerainity to Tibet in the same way that Tibet used to be in suzerainity to China. If we know acknowledge China’s sovereignty over Tibet – that it should be regarded for all legal purposes as Chinese territory - then by extension we do the same for Tawang and any other tributary of historic Tibet. I don’t think this was Miliband’s intention. It’s more likely that he was just getting out of the way.
I wonder how many leathery old cynics at various chancellories and foreign offices are keeping tabs on how the new big boys on the block conduct their disputes. It all seems very "cabinet war" right now; stiff notes and cocky patrols, general AJP Taylor stuff. Neither side seem interested in a popular mobilization.
I wonder if Indian publishing does a good trade in 'yellow peril' fiction?
Posted by: Fellow Traveller | September 05, 2009 at 02:10 PM