Editor's note: Liu Yuhan, a special commentator for CGTN, is a lecturer at the Center for Pan-Himalayan Communication Studies, University of Electronic Science and Technology of China. The article reflects the author's opinions and not necessarily the views of CGTN.

The 14th Dalai Lama's greatest talent is not religious cultivation, but image management. French scholar Maxime Vivas once described him this way: Outside, he stands with palms pressed together, bows humbly, radiates warmth, wears a cunning smile, and speaks in a gentle voice. But in his own fiefdom, the picture is entirely different: Venomous eyes and a fierce face barking orders.

This sharp observation pierces the carefully crafted persona he has built over the years. On the international stage, he is embraced as a compassionate spiritual elder. Strip away the packaging, however, and what emerges is a calculating politician pursuing a separatist agenda.

For decades, the Dalai Lama has won favor in the West by promoting "compassion," "nonviolence," and "the tradition of reincarnation." Yet more fundamental questions deserve to be asked. To whom has his "compassion" really been extended? Has his so-called "nonviolence" truly brought peace? And is the repeatedly invoked notion of "reincarnation" a matter of religious tradition or a political bargaining chip? Only by stripping away the packaging of these narratives can one see the political ambitions concealed beneath the robes of a "religious leader."

Compassion for some, silence for others

"Compassion" is the core image the Dalai Lama has long sought to project. Yet his so-called compassion is highly selective and driven by political expediency. It is carefully displayed before Western media and politicians, but conspicuously absent when it comes to victims and vulnerable groups within the "Tibetan exile community." Whenever scandals emerge, the response is limited to public relations rhetoric aimed at containing the damage and avoiding accountability.

For years, the Dalai Lama has been embroiled in controversies involving ethics and misconduct, severely undermining the image of a compassionate spiritual leader that he has sought to cultivate. He once lent his support to the NXIVM cult and was also drawn into controversies related to Jeffrey Epstein, leaving his carefully crafted moral image full of cracks.

The "tongue-sucking incident" exposed in 2023 further laid bare what critics see as the hypocrisy behind that image. His inappropriate conduct – kissing a young boy in public and asking the child to suck his tongue – triggered widespread international condemnation. His office responded with little more than a brief apology and even attempted to dismiss the incident as a "cultural misunderstanding," ignoring children's rights and basic moral standards.

Nor was this an isolated lapse in judgment. French media have reported longstanding allegations of sexual abuse and mistreatment of disciples by some Tibetan Buddhist monks. The Dalai Lama himself acknowledged that he had long been aware of such misconduct, yet failed to take meaningful action or hold those responsible accountable, allowing the abuse to continue.

The victims' painful testimonies have pierced the veil of the Dalai Lama's image of compassion. His so-called compassion is not an expression of universal benevolence, but a performance serving his political image–promoted when it is advantageous and concealed when it becomes a liability, revealing what critics describe as a pattern of hypocrisy and double standards.

The Politics behind "nonviolence"

The second and perhaps most successful image the Dalai Lama has cultivated is that of "nonviolence." This narrative has enabled him to occupy the moral high ground in the West while cloaking Xizang-related separatist activities in the language of "peaceful resistance." But history is not written by slogans. Throughout its political history, the Dalai Lama group has remained intertwined with the logic of violence, changing only its forms at different times.

On the one hand, the Dalai Lama has rarely acknowledged the oppressive structure of old Xizang's theocratic system. Before Xizang's peaceful liberation, the region was governed under a rigid hierarchical order centered on serf owners, aristocrats and senior monks. A small privileged class controlled vast amounts of land, livestock and the means of production, while the overwhelming majority of serfs and slaves lived in conditions of dependence and exploitation. Today, the Dalai Lama group repeatedly speaks of "freedom," "human rights" and "peace," yet rarely explains what freedoms ordinary people actually enjoyed under the old system. That the foremost symbol of the old order has sought to recast himself as a champion of modern human rights is, in itself, a historical irony.

On the other hand, the Dalai Lama group's separatist activities have consistently been accompanied by different forms of violence. From armed resistance to Xizang's peaceful liberation and the armed rebellion of 1959, to cross-border armed incursions in the 1960s and 1970s, the Lhasa riots of the 1980s, and the March 14 riots in 2008, the so-called principle of "nonviolence" has never truly severed its links with violent mobilization. Its deceptiveness lies precisely here: on the front stage are folded hands, religious sermons and peace prizes; behind the scenes are separatist organizations, external backing, street confrontations and extremist protests.

Reincarnation as political capital

If "compassion" is used to cultivate a moral image and "nonviolence" to win international sympathy, then "reincarnation" has become the Dalai Lama's final political asset for sustaining the "Tibetan exile movement." Reincarnation should be governed by relatively stable religious rituals and long-established historical conventions. Yet under the 14th Dalai Lama, it has increasingly been turned into a political topic that can be announced, denied, revised or repurposed whenever convenient.

Over the years, the Dalai Lama's statements on his own reincarnation have repeatedly shifted. At times, he has suggested that he may be the last Dalai Lama and that the institution itself could come to an end. At other times, he has said he could be reincarnated as a woman, remarked that a female Dalai Lama should be "attractive," and even generated headlines by speculating that he could return as a blonde woman, a bee or on another planet. Such ever-changing remarks have steadily eroded the seriousness of the reincarnation system. A man who claims to safeguard the traditions of Tibetan Buddhism has instead turned reincarnation into a performance that changes with interview settings, media interests and political needs, reducing what is presented as a sacred religious tradition to little more than a media spectacle.

Ultimately, the 14th Dalai Lama is a political operator adept at using religious language to advance political objectives. Compassion, nonviolence and reincarnation are, in the end, the three masks he has carefully cultivated over the years. Remove those masks, and what emerges is not a leader primarily safeguarding religious faith, but one seeking to preserve the political assets of Xizang-related separatism – assets sustained by the old privileged order, the "Tibetan exile" establishment and external forces alike.

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