China’s Interference in Dalai Lama ‘s Succession Puts Tibet at Risk

Poonam Sharma
As the Dalai Lama approaches his 90th birthday, the issue of succession grows increasingly urgent—not only for the Tibetan people but for world watchers concerned about religious freedom and geopolitics. But what ought to be a venerable, deeply religious tradition threatens to be hijacked by an authoritarian government: the People’s Republic of China.

The 14th Dalai Lama, Tenzin Gyatso, has lived in exile in Dharamsala, India since 1959 after China’s brutal military suppression of a Tibetan rebellion. Born Lhamo Dhondup on July 6, 1935, he was recognized as the reincarnation of the 13th Dalai Lama at the age of two. The Dalai Lamas are thought to be incarnations of Avalokiteshvara, the Bodhisattva of Compassion—holy men whose rebirth is determined not by politics or power, but by a pledge to benefit mankind.

But in the 21st century, this holy lineage is threatened by a deadly peril: Beijing’s growing interference in Tibetan Buddhism’s spiritual and administrative affairs. China has long been trying to cut the Dalai Lama’s connection with the Tibetan people and substitute spiritual leadership with state-authorized puppeteering.

The Battle for the Next Dalai Lama
For the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), religious institution control is simply an extension of its larger authoritarian hold. As it appoints bishops within the Chinese Patriotic Catholic Association and redefines Islamic practices within “Sinicization,” Beijing now wishes to play god among Tibetan Buddhism by choosing its own Dalai Lama.

This is not just symbolic. The Dalai Lama is not just a religious figure but represents the essence of Tibetan resistance, unity, and identity. A Beijing-appointed Dalai Lama would be used to legitimize the Chinese occupation of Tibet and undermine international recognition for the Tibetan cause.

In 1995, the CCP made its intentions very clear when it abducted six-year-old Gedhun Choekyi Nyima, the child identified by the 14th Dalai Lama as the Panchen Lama, the second-highest position in Tibetan Buddhism. The Chinese government subsequently imposed its own candidate, Gyaincain Norbu, upon whom the majority of Tibetans refuse to look. Gedhun’s fate is still unknown, and he has been referred to as the world’s youngest political prisoner.

China’s Plan: Political Reincarnation
Beijing asserts that within its territory, only the state may sanction religious reincarnations. In 2007, it even passed a law mandating all reincarnations of Tibetan lamas to obtain approval from the state. It’s a bizarre but very tangible instance of a totalitarian regime meddling in metaphysical issues it neither comprehends nor reveres.

The Dalai Lama has forestalled this interference. As early as 1969, he had announced that the continuation of the lineage of the Dalai Lama would be subject to the will of the people of Tibet. In 2011, he gave detailed instructions on how his reincarnation is to be discovered, attributing the responsibility to the Gaden Phodrang Trust and high-ranking Tibetan lamas—not Beijing.

He has made it starkly obvious: any candidate announced by China should be rejected. In case the Tibetan people, Mongolians, and believers in the Himalayan areas decide to go along with a 15th Dalai Lama, the procedure must adhere to classical religious processes—not geopolitics by China.

Why This Matters Globally
The invasion of Tibetan Buddhism by Beijing is not purely an internal issue. It is a part of a larger campaign of ideological repression and cultural erasure. It is reminiscent of the systematic re-education of Uyghur Muslims in Xinjiang, crushing Christian churches, and silencing Falun Gong practitioners. Spiritual traditions that are out of sync with the worldview of the Communist Party are dismantled or co-opted.

China’s intervention has wider implications than for Tibet. In Mongolia, Bhutan, Ladakh, Nepal, and Sikkim—locales of profound cultural and spiritual ties with Tibetan Buddhism—the fate of who the next Dalai Lama will be will determine religious continuity and local politics. India is especially involved as home to the Tibetan government-in-exile and millions of Buddhist adherents.

If China were to install its own Dalai Lama following the death of Tenzin Gyatso, two competing worlds will exist: one under the leadership of the authentic Tibetan tradition in exile, and another sustained by the Chinese propaganda apparatus. This divergence will touch global Buddhist communities, religious institutions, as well as international diplomacy.

The Stakes for Tibetans in Exile
To the six million Tibetans within Tibet and the diaspora around India, Europe, and the U.S., the credibility of the next Dalai Lama is a matter of survival. The religious void created by Tenzin Gyatso, if not filled in earnest, threatens to result in disillusion, fragmentation, and more marginalization.

The Gaden Phodrang Trust and high-ranking lamas are now saddled with the responsibility of declaring the next Dalai Lama through genuine spiritual means. They are required to defy pressure, be transparent, and seek widespread counsel—not only among religious circles but from the general Tibetan populace.

The Dalai Lama has vowed to leave behind clear guidance, and although speculation regarding a non-traditional reincarnation or designation of a successor while still alive persists, no decision has been finalized. What is certain, though, is that Beijing’s pre-determined “Dalai Lama” must be rejected by the world.

 A Test of Global Integrity
The world cannot be quiet while China tries to politicize reincarnation. Religious freedom must be a foundation of human dignity, and the Tibetan cause is not merely about spiritual self-determination—it’s about the people’s right to maintain their identity without state compulsion.

As His Holiness has once declared, “My faith in humanity is strong.” That faith now requires return. The world community needs to acknowledge and uphold Tibetans in their right to select their own spiritual leader—without manipulation, intimidation, and occupation.

The next Dalai Lama might or might not be born in exile. But one thing is sure: the soul of Tibet cannot be fabricated in Beijing.