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Tibetan Calligraphy and Cultural Identity Amid China’s New Ethnic Unity Law
LHASA, Tibet – At 73, retired nurse Kalsang Lhamo is embracing a new chapter, carefully tracing the delicate vertical strokes of Tibetan calligraphy. Although she has spoken Tibetan her entire life, writing the script is a skill she never acquired-until now. Enrolled in a local elder education center in Tibet’s Chengguan District, Lhamo immerses herself in learning the traditional script, a meaningful act in an era of shifting cultural policies.
China’s recently enacted “ethnic unity” law, effective July 1, designates Mandarin Chinese as the primary language for schools and government institutions, emphasizing patriotism and national unity among the country’s 56 ethnic groups. The legislation prohibits actions deemed divisive and mandates that ethnic minorities promote a strong sense of community aligned with the broader Chinese identity.
Critics argue the law accelerates the erosion of minority rights, especially in regions like Tibet, where cultural preservation is deeply tied to language and religion. The Chinese government rejects such criticism as biased interference in domestic affairs.
In Tibet, officially an autonomous region but closely governed by Beijing, the new law arrives amid the 75th anniversary of what China calls the “peaceful liberation” of Tibet-a milestone viewed by many Tibetans and exiled communities as the beginning of occupation. Human rights advocates see this law as a further push toward forced cultural assimilation, echoing similar policies already affecting Uyghurs in Xinjiang and Mongolians in Inner Mongolia.
Experts warn that minorities face the difficult balance of publicly conforming to state expectations while privately striving to maintain their heritage. James Leibold, of La Trobe University, and Tenzin Dorjee from Tibet Action Institute wrote in Foreign Affairs that such communities are increasingly living “a double life of public conformity and private reservations.”
During a government-organized visit by foreign journalists, including the Associated Press, reporters toured key cultural and religious sites in Lhasa and Shannan. While authorities orchestrated the itinerary and maintained close oversight, the visit offered a glimpse into life under Beijing’s watchful eye.
Symbols of Chinese sovereignty pervade the region-from welcome signs in airports and billboards championing ethnic unity to portraits of President Xi Jinping in public spaces. Yet, for many Tibetans like Lhamo, cultural expression endures through language, crafts, and religious practice. Tibetan is spoken at home, traditional weaving continues, and Buddhist ceremonies remain integral to daily life.
At the Jokhang Temple, a spiritual heart for Tibetan Buddhists, visitors include both Tibetans and Han Chinese. Notably absent are any signs or mentions of the Dalai Lama, Tibet’s exiled spiritual leader, whose succession is a sensitive political issue. Beijing insists that the Dalai Lama’s reincarnation must comply with Chinese law and government approval, while the Dalai Lama himself maintains that only his office can recognize his successor.
Similarly, the Potala Palace, once the winter residence of the Dalai Lamas, displays no reference to the current leader, instead flying the Chinese national flag prominently. Thousands of visitors, both tourists and devotees, pass through daily.
Carnegie Mellon University historian Benno Weiner notes that the new law largely formalizes trends already underway-reductions in language rights and increased emphasis on Mandarin education. Beijing contends that these policies provide equal educational access for ethnic minorities.
During the same period as the journalist visit, Wang Huning, a top Chinese Communist Party official, toured Tibet, emphasizing stability and calling for Tibetan Buddhism to “adapt to socialist society” in line with the unity law.
Cultural sites and artisan workshops highlight traditional crafts such as ceramic making and textile weaving. Yet, as Weiner points out, the government tends to promote cultural elements deemed politically safe and attractive to tourists, often sidelining religious or politically sensitive expressions.
At the Tibet Museum, exhibits reinforce Beijing’s narrative of Tibet’s long historical ties to Chinese dynasties-a viewpoint challenged by many in the Tibetan diaspora who assert Tibet’s historical independence.
Billboards throughout Lhasa and Shannan echo the new law’s message, urging the forging of a “strong sense of community for the Chinese nation,” displayed prominently in both Mandarin and Tibetan.
For Lhamo, who retired over two decades ago, learning to read and write Tibetan at the eldercare center is a way to honor her roots and pass on her mother tongue to future generations. “Our mother tongue is the Tibetan language,” she says with quiet pride, embodying the resilience of a culture navigating complex pressures in today’s Tibet.