IX. Other Cultural and Economic Impacts

In the process of construction of the New Socialist Villages the local government not only provides consultation services but also provides advice that result in a surge of opportunities for farmers and herders to make income.

—Xinhua News Agency, March 2008

People in the village are desperate about abandoning their homes and having to resettle. They don’t have any other skills than farming, and won’t have any herds or land worth speaking of anymore. How is the next generation going to survive as Tibetans?

—Tenzin Gyaltso, a villager from Gyama (Ch. Jiama), TAR, July 2012

The Chinese government justifies its radical relocation policies, including the loss of traditional habitat, resources, livelihood, and community structures, by describing the longer-term benefits it says those affected will enjoy. It already claims that its strategy is succeeding, pointing to “GDP growth rates in the TAR higher than the national average,” “constant improvement in the living standards of Tibetan farmers and herders,” and “a surge of opportunities for farmers and herders to make income.”[216]

Some observers have concurred. Goldstein has defended the benefits of ushering rural Tibetans into the commoditized economy, based on fieldwork in several villages around Shigatse, the second largest urban center in the TAR.[217] In a 2010 article written with Geoff Childs, and Puchung Wangdu, he  notes that:

For the overwhelming majority of villagers economic mobility achieved through the ‘going for income’ has never been so open and material life has never been so good, although to be sure many households still struggle to subsist […] The tremendous increase in the number of villagers going for income has produced an explosion in cash income and a concomitant major improvement in the standard of living. Everyone we interviewed, old, middle aged, and young, commented that material conditions have improved markedly in the past decade.[218]

Goldstein and his co-authors conclude that Tibetan farmers have “adapted well” to the new economic conditions:

The farmers in our study villages, old and young alike, have experienced tremendous changes but have adapted well to these and now feel confident that if government policies concerning economic development and the practice of Tibetan culture/religion are continued, they can both compete successfully in today’s economy for non-farm income and maintain their traditional cultural values and customs.[219]

Goldstein and his co-authors note that although they found “no coercion” in respect to the Comfortable Housing project in their area, “we cannot discount the possibility that some officials in other areas could have tried to coerce villagers.[220]

Yet a close look at measures put in place to restore or expand income-generating activities for relocated or rehoused rural Tibetans, through interviews and analysis of several Chinese academic studies, indicate that a good number are failing, for reasons including ill-conceived measures to push farmers to cultivate cash crops, ineffective employment schemes, and hasty credit schemes.

Interviewees from many different parts of the Tibetan plateau, both from the TAR and neighboring provinces, told Human Rights Watch that while economic conditions have improved overall due to the central government’s massive injection of funds and investment to fund the construction drive, as well as an unexpected boom in the trade in medicinal caterpillar fungus, economic uncertainties have increased overall since they do not feel confident about future employment opportunities, their ability to manage large amounts of debt, and their ability to compete in the cash economy with more experienced communities.

New Socialist Villages have had a major impact on pastoralists’ communities in Qinghai province, as ecological migration schemes have forced many to abandon their traditional grasslands, forfeiting herding and farming revenue and losing economic independence.

According to interviewees, the state subsidies are insufficient to make up for the increase in the cost of living that followed resettlement near urban centers and job opportunities have not materialized or else filled by new Han migrant laborers. Many said the authorities expected them to compete in markets in which native Chinese-speaking laborers and entrepreneurs have a distinct advantage, and even appeared to receive more official support to develop economic initiatives. As a result, Chinese-speaking laborers are better placed to capture the benefits of the government economic policies.[221]

Resettled pastoralists appear to have fared the worst, as Chinese researchers have pointed out in a number of studies in local academic journals.[222] The failures that result from the forced relocation and resettlement of pastoralists make the recent announcement by the central government that by 2015 it aims to accelerate the resettlement of most nomadic communities in the country—from Kazakhs in the Xinjiang Uighur Autonomous Region to Mongols in Inner Mongolia—even more troubling.[223]

While it is probably too soon to discern the long-term economic impact that these policies will have on Tibetans, particularly from a limited number of interviews, the problems detailed below at a minimum call into question the government’s relentless claim of unmitigated success, which in turn is used to justify further relocation and rehousing.

Loss of Farmland Crops and Livestock

Many rural Tibetans who live near urban centers described the replacement of subsistence agriculture with cash crop cultivation as a component of the new resettlement and rehousing policies.

Official media reports confirm that local cadres received training to “transform poverty into affluence” and give “a new impetus to the construction of new socialist villages.” According to the Tibet Daily,training sessions for rural Party cadres in the seven counties of Lhodrak (Ch. Shannan prefecture, TAR) “responded to the cadres’ expressed needs regarding yield increase, pest eradication, and cultivation of vegetables in greenhouses.”

Interviewees told Human Rights Watch that farmers in peri-urban areas were encouraged by local authorities to shift their cultivation from grain to vegetables, which they said they were reluctant to do for fear of jeopardizing their livelihood. One Tibetan interviewee from a village near Shigatse told Human Rights Watch:

Nowadays since many Chinese have come to Tibet, the authorities are accordingly making people to grow vegetables, saying that it is an order of the government. But vegetables cannot be fed to livestock and rot quickly if not sold.[224]

Unlike vegetables, grain and other crops may have less market value but can sustain households. The same interviewee said it was difficult to sell vegetables in urban markets:

We don’t manage to sell our vegetables when we go to Shigatse because there are many Chinese vegetable vendors there. People in the city don’t buy from Tibetan farmers, while in the villages everyone grows and no one buys [...] The vegetables we produce just go to rot.[225]

The government policy of encouraging vegetable production for expanding urban markets also attracts large numbers of native Chinese-speaking migrant laborers from other provinces. Tibetans themselves have often opted for renting out their land to Chinese migrants rather than growing vegetables themselves.

One interviewee said converting farmland to vegetable production further limited the ability to keep livestock since grain and fodder are needed to feed animals in winter:

We can feed the animals with vegetables in summer, but in winter we don’t have grain and fodder to feed livestock anymore. Half the farmland of all households has already been converted into vegetable gardens but from this year everyone should grow only vegetables, so locals are worried and wondering how they are going to live without grain.[226]

For pastoralists, as documented in Human Rights Watch 2007 report, herd reduction, whether mandated by the government as part of relocation programs, or simply as a result of the need to raise funds to meet the cost of the new houses, was cited by many respondents as negatively impacting living standards.[227]

Tenzin Gyaltso, from Gyama village, TAR, said his family and everyone else in his village were bound to lose almost all means of livelihood—herds and land—due to relocation:

People are so desperate; they’re going to lose everything. My family is rich by local standards, we have yaks, horses, sheep, and goats, and over 20 mu of land.[228] We never lacked food. My family home was built at great cost using the best material: the best timber, the best stones, everything. We had spent 50,000 Yuan building this house. And now we have to relocate to the new houses built by government [at the other end of the valley.] Besides, we have not been allowed to take any of our herds to the new place—we had over 100 yaks, 15 horses, and close to 200 sheep and goats. But we have to sell everything.

Thankfully my family could arrange to send the yaks to some relatives living elsewhere, but this is a disaster, we’re losing everything. People in the village are desperate. They don’t have any skills, and don't have any herds or land worth speaking of anymore. How is the next generation going to survive?[229]

Increased Living Costs

Another common concern expressed by newly relocated residents was that life in the new settlement meant far greater living expenses. Foodstuffs as well as utilities, combined with the loss of previously free resources such as water, animal fuel, and edible products led to an increase in expenditure barely matched, if at all, by temporary government subsidies. This was particularly difficult for Tibetans who were living mostly outside the cash economy prior to resettlement. One interviewee told Human Rights Watch:

In the new settlement we have to buy everything, yet we don’t have an income. You cannot live here without cash. The 500 Yuan the government gives us [per month] is not even enough to cover the electricity and water bills. And then you have to buy your own food.[230]

An unusually detailed empirical survey carried out in a resettlement area by a team of Chinese and Tibetan researchers found similar problems in resettled communities from the Three Rivers Area, where residents have become dependent on subsidies:

In actual fact, before their relocation, herders were quite self-sufficient in terms of basic needs such as food, clothing and shelter. After relocation, however, they have to purchase these necessities from markets, which is clearly increasing their expenditures. Now relying on government subsidies, they face innumerable difficulties.[231]

The authors of the survey also noted the inadequacy of subsidies and the lack of income generating activities aside from the seasonal collection of caterpillar fungus:

The standard grain subsidy is based on average-size households: but this is simply not enough to meet the basic needs of herder households that have more members than this average. After resettlement, the main source of family income of farmers and herdsmen has become government subsidies and Cordyceps [caterpillar fungus] collection.[232]

The authors concluded that in the resettlement villages they had surveyed, “the majority of resettled people had not managed to establish their own income generating activity.”[233]

The collection of caterpillar fungus can be extremely lucrative, due to the high price it commands on the market for traditional Chinese medicine.[234] However, it remains both localized and seasonal, and there are doubts that it can develop into sustainable activity. Similar hopes were dashed in inner Mongolia, when expectations that collection of “facai” wild grass would provide a development path for resettled pastoralists ultimately led to increased environmental degradation, inter-ethnic conflicts between Han Chinese migrants and locals, and minimal economic benefit to these communities.[235]

The Caterpillar Fungus in the Tibetan Economy In the following excerpt, Daniel Winkler, a geographer who specializes in the study of caterpillar fungus, argues that the dependence of the Tibetan economy on harvesting of the fungus has increased dramatically over the past decade. He estimates that on average 40 percent of rural cash income and 8.5 percent of the GDP of the Tibet Autonomous Region (TAR) comes from collection of the medicinal plant: It is very perplexing [not to have an answer about whether this production boom is sustainable] considering how important Cordyceps income is for households all over the Tibetan Plateau and the Himalayas. Based on field data I collected with Luorong Zhandui in 2005, I have calculated that Cordyceps provided on average 40% of rural cash income and 8.5% of the GDP of the Tibet Autonomous Region (TAR). Furthermore, in prime collection areas in TAR, such as the Sok, Baqen and Biru in the South of Naqu Prefecture as well as Dengchen and Riwoqe counties in the North of Qamdo Prefecture yartsa gunbu lcaterpillar fungus] provides more than 50% to the overall local household income, and probably 80–90% to the cash income. Similar, astonishingly high financial contributions are also observed in the prime collection areas of South Qinghai.[…] Though the percent of income derived from yartsa gunbu is probably not as high in the Tibetan Autonomous Prefectures of western Sichuan, northwest Yunnan, southwest Gansu and eastern Qinghai, it is still unmatched by any other product’s contribution to local incomes. It is possible that this unanticipated source of cash generation for rural Tibetans considerably reduced or delayed the detrimental impact of relocation programs since 2006, and that the appearance of success of the rehousing campaign in fact comes from this single source of revenue and not from the construction of new socialist villages. Winkler notes that “the immense income that can be made from yartsa gunbu collection undermines engagement in long-term economic activities which offer much smaller economic returns.”[236]

The government has not published detailed statistics regarding the increase in living expenses brought about by resettlement. But the empirical study by Chinese scholars of a resettled Tibetan nomadic community in Ge’ermu (Tib. Golmud) in Qinghai province, notes that living expenses for newly resettled residents were nearly twice as high as they had before resettlement.[237] The authors of the study calculated that average households now had to spend 7,856 yuan (about $1,100) as opposed to 4,130 yuan ($620) before relocation, and reported that, “all ecological migrants without exception said that household expenses have increased after relocation, and have come under huge pressure as a result”:

Looking only at the foodstuff category, expenses went from 1,860 Yuan [about US$300] before relocation to 3,590 Yuan [about US$565]. Now people get their foodstuff mostly from rural markets, where consumer prices are relatively high for lamb and vegetables. This leads to much greater household expenses. Expenditures for water, electricity and medical fees have also increased compared to before relocation.[238]

Human Rights Watch interviewees also reported that these new financial burdens meant that households tried to send family members to seek work as migrant laborers when subsidies came to an end:

If households have many members then some go outside for construction work to earn money, some do business and some do whatever work they get from the Chinese and try to supplement their income. Other than that, there is no support from the government.[239]

Despite the government promises of “an easier life” in the New Socialist Villages, and despite the cash compensation, many Human Rights Watch interviewees from pastoralist communities in Qinhai province report are in fact being faced with greater difficulties, especially those who cannot compete in the heavily saturated caterpillar fungus market. As the authors of the Chinese survey cited above point out, the fundamental problem caused by relocation policies is its unsustainability, as new expenditures outpace new revenues:

Our survey shows that the revenue from business activities remains inadequate, while on the other hand the living expenses continue to augment day after day.[240]

Limited Employment Opportunities

For relocated herders, lack of opportunities for employment to make up for loss of traditional livelihood is another serious problem.

From the outset of the resettlement campaign, the government claimed it would facilitate the entry of Tibetans into the employment market through several measures, such as business loans, vocational training, and tourism projects. While there are undoubtedly some success stories, many employment schemes for resettled residents appear to have been inadequate, impractical, or solely designed to push individuals into becoming migrant labourers.

One Chinese journalist who investigated the situation in Qinghai’s Golok [Ch. Guoluo] prefecture reported that one discernible impact of the job training provided by the local authorities was to highlight the actual lack of opportunities:[241]

In the new He Yuan settlement in Linghu township, Guoluo prefecture, the 53 households underwent a training for construction and car repair work. “But [due to the lack of opportunities] the result is that now they have [no way] to improve their livelihood.”[242]

Some foreign journalists have given similarly critical accounts of the employment situation in some of new socialist villages. Jonathan Watts, an environmental correspondent for The Guardian, said some resettlement centers he visited in Maduo, Qinghai province, were turning into “ghettos.” One local interviewee denounced the situation as “hopeless”:[243]

If I could go back to herding, I would. But the land has been taken by the state and the livestock has been sold off so we are stuck here. It's hopeless […] We were promised jobs. But there is no work. We live on the 3,000 yuan a year allowance, but the officials deduct money from that for the housing, which was supposed to be free.[244]

There, too, Watts was told that people were now dependent on government subsidies paid for renouncing to pastoralism. He wrote:

Qinghai is dotted with resettlement centres, many on the way to becoming ghettos. Nomads are paid an annual allowance—of 3,000 yuan (about £300 or about $467) to 8,000 yuan per household—to give up herding for 10 years and be provided with housing. “Maduo is now very poor. There is no way to make a living,” said a Tibetan teacher who gave only one name, Angang. “The mines have closed and grasslands are destroyed. People just depend on the money they get from the government. They just sit on the kang [a raised, heated floor] and wait for the next payment.”[245]

Although the government does not publish employment statistics from resettlement villages, an unusual report in an official newspaper disclosed that in Yushu prefecture more than half of the residents were unemployed.

At least 60% of nomads were unable to find work after ‘leaving the land,’ said Ming Yue, director of the Yushu Prefecture Three River Sources Office, and based on that proportion, that means there are 25,000 nomads in a situation of “waiting for employment.”[246]

The government has long promoted the tourism sector as one of the most promising avenues for relocated Tibetans to earn a living, but many tourism projects have proved disappointing. In 2009, tourism provided 42,000 jobs for rural Tibetans, compared with fewer than 35,000 in 2007, according to official figures.[247]

While opportunities did materialize in some places, many envisioned projects were overly optimistic about the ability to draw tourists far away from existing tourisms hubs. One Chinese journalist reported on the Qinghai provincial authorities’ creation of the Kunlun Ethnic Culture Village, a pilot project that was supposed to provide employment opportunities for young locals and boost tourism:

Residents of Kunlun started a stone-carving workshop to sell carvings to tourists. […] But visitor numbers were low and those who did come were not keen on carrying a heavy piece of stone home, so few were sold. Now a clothing factory is planned, but without funds it is unlikely to get off the ground.[248]

U.N. Special Rapporteur Urges End to Relocation or Rehousing  In January 2012, the UN special rapporteur on the right to food security, Olivier de Schutter, called on the Chinese government to “immediately halt non-voluntary resettlement of nomadic herders from their traditional lands and non-voluntary relocation or rehousing programmes of other rural residents”in his report to the UN Human Rights Council on his mission to China. [249] The UN special rapporteur cited many concerns documented in the Human Rights Watch 2007 report on herders relocation and further detailed in the present report, including the fact that resettlement in the “New Socialist Villages” meant “giving up herding and farming revenues, and consequently losing economic independence.”[250] He also expressed concerns over issues such as “limited ability to keep livestock,” “relocation in areas unsuitable to agriculture,” “increase in the cost of living that followed resettlement near urban centres” and “disruption of traditional patterns of livelihood.”[251] Loss of means of livelihood raises concerns under article 6 of the International Covenant on Economic, Social and Cultural Rights (ICESCR), which affirms the obligation of States parties to assure individuals their right to freely chosen or accepted work.[252] In his report, the special rapporteur further urged the government “to allow for meaningful consultations to take place with the affected communities, permitting parties to examine all available options, including recent strategies of sustainable management of marginal pastures.”[253] The Chinese government rejected the report’s findings and maintains that resettlement policies are “very popular” while failing to respond to any of the Special Rapporteur’s or Human Rights Watch’s specific findings.[254]

Difficulties Integrating into Urban, Commercial Economies

Preferential business loans for rural Tibetans were another part of the New Socialist Countryside campaign designed to improve economic opportunities for Tibetans. Official Chinese media has credited these loans as having ushered in a new generation of Tibetan entrepreneurs.[255] But both Tibetan interviewees and Chinese scholars have cast doubts about the long term viability of these measures, especially in the case of resettled pastoralist communities.

One interviewee told Human Rights Watch that the loans had been offered in compensation for mandatory restrictions on having livestock, but only resulted in people now being saddled with debts:

After the introduction of limitations on livestock and land, the government offered loans to people. It was to encourage them to do business or open restaurants. The government told them that it was important to become developed by mechanizing [agriculture], and so many people took loans and nowadays there are many who cannot repay them [...] I heard that some were unlucky with their business, they were losing their capital, and could not repay the loans even after selling off their household livestock.[256]

One interviewee made clear that the local authorities’ promise of a “happy life” for those who embraced the New Socialist countryside remained elusive:

The government says that if we sell our animals and start businesses like shops and restaurants we would have a happy life and not have to work so hard. In our village at present, about 100 households still have cattle, and 100 have none left. Of those, about 50 opened shops and restaurants, but they don’t know how to do good business or how to prepare food very well, so naturally they became poor. The other 50 have no shops, no restaurants, and no cattle. [257]

The concerns expressed by Tibetan interviewees echo the comprehensive Chinese study of the results of ecological migration policies written in 2004, stressing “unimaginable problems and difficulties” for herders resettled in urban areas:

New migrants who have moved to the cities find the use of their mother tongue deeply challenged, and are confronted with profound changes in their environment and way of live, as well as to a radical change in the way social relations between people are conducted [... ] The future that awaits them presents unimaginable problems and difficulties.[258]

These problems were confirmed by a Chinese scholar interviewed by Human Rights Watch in 2012, who said that his field research showed that newly resettled communities were also struggling to integrate in their new environment when moved closer to urban centers.

They lack language and professional skills and don’t integrate. They are used to being pastoralists living off the grasslands, they don't know how to survive once resettled. Besides, while the government now tries to resettle pastoralists near existing urban centers closer to where they come from, the populations there don't really welcome them. The dialect they speak is different, and they consider the newcomers to cause many social problems, such as alcoholism and theft.[259]

Six years later, another Chinese report studying the impact of relocation programs in the Three Rivers Area came to similar conclusions, faulting the government’s expectation that resettled rural residents could just shift to the service industry to make a living:

The education level of the farmers and herders is low; their technical work is low. It is very difficult to change them for the primary (agricultural) sector to the tertiary (service) one. In the tertiary sector, their options are actually extremely limited.[260]