Annapolis is the capital city of Maryland and home to the US Naval Academy. It is a lovely, manicured, very affluent small city. The Maryland State House, the oldest state capitol building in continuous service in the US (since 1772) was covered in scaffolding while it got a facelift. So I had to make do with this photo of the entrance to Government House, Maryland’s governor’s mansion, located across the street from the State House.
In one of those historical ironies that I very much enjoy, the next resident of Government House will be Maryland Governor-elect, Wes Moore; he will be the state’s first African-American governor. The man who designed Government House, completed in 1870, was named Richard Snowden Andrews, an architect and, during the Civil War, a general in the Confederate States Army. Hope you are rolling over in your grave, traitor.
“Mighty Chairman Ho Chi Minh is forever with us in our life’s work.” Or words to that effect.
You see political poster art of the sort in this picture everywhere in Vietnamese cities, from billboards on the tops of buildings to posters along the walls of construction sites. This particular poster, according to a Vietnamese friend, announces the selection of a Party committee for Ho Chi Minh City for a five year term and celebrates Vietnam’s industrialization and modernization efforts. And the poster urges citizens to do their part to support modernization of the country.
The building in the background is the Imperial Citadel of Thang Long, part of the imperial structures that served as the capital of Dai Viet from the 11th to the 18th century. The building, very much in a Chinese style, is in the center of Hanoi. The boys in their bright tee shirts with a yellow star against a red background – the Vietnamese national flag – were part of a coed group of 20ish kids, I presume a university class on an outing. All of the boys were wearing the red tees. I rather liked the contrast: young people wearing the symbol of modern, socialist Vietnam against a traditional background representing the country’s imperial past.
Boston City Hall opened to a lot of fanfare (and controversy) in 1968. A lot of people saw it as a dramatic symbol of a modern, new Boston. As I recall, that is how it looked to me when I moved to Boston in 1970. Almost 50 years later, the building sure has lost its luster. It looks ugly and out of place in Boston’s otherwise people friendly, rather intimate downtown. Brutalist Modern indeed. When I visited recently, a friend told me Boston is thinking about tearing the place down and building a new city hall, something more comfortable and on a more human scale. Good idea.
The Tsechu River flows swiftly through the center of Dartsedo, a small city nestled in the mountains of the Tibetan region of Kham. In Chinese the city is called Kanding and the river Zhedou. By Chinese reckoning, Dartsedo is located in the western part of Sichuan province halfway between the border of the Tibet Autonomous Region and Chengdu, the capital of Sichuan Province. You can search for Dartsedo on Google Map, but you will be directed to Garze, the name of the Tibetan autonomous prefecture in which Dartsedo is located. Google Earth renders the rugged terrain surrounding Dartsedo in dramatic fashion.
The photo here, which I took when I visited Dartsedo in 2007, appears in the 2013 Tibet calendar issued by the International Campaign for Tibet. I just received a copy of the finished calendar and it was quite satisfying to see the picture in print.
Donating a photo to a calendar is a rather pathetic gesture when it comes to helping Tibetans save their homeland and their culture from the brutal Han Chinese colonialism that is the core of the Communist Party’s policy towards Tibet. But I was glad I could do it in any case.
It is more than a little disheartening to follow the news from Tibet. Fifty four Tibetans have set themselves on fire to protest Chinese oppression. (Latest Self-Immolation in Tibet Brings Total to 54) The international community has paid scant attention to this tragedy. The kind of outrage one would expect such sacrifice for a cause to generate has never materialized and there has been little pressure put on Beijing to rethink its approach to Tibet.
Within China virtually all of China’s Han majority (about 95% of China’s 1.3 billion people) accept the Party’s Tibet narrative, which begins with the fanciful claim that Tibet has always been a part of China. They tend to believe without question the tale that is hammered home constantly in state-controlled media: China is helping backward Tibet develop. Even well-educated Han Chinese, who are skeptical of much of what their government says, seem unable to connect the dots between ongoing unrest in Tibet and failed government policies towards Tibet. On more than one occasion I was informed in authoritative tones that Tibetans are the ignorant, ungrateful and undeserving recipients of much largesse and many privileges showered upon them by the Chinese state.
I have read some speculation that Xi Jinping, who will become head of the Party and state apparatus next month, may be open to rethinking China’s Tibet policy. Perhaps. But, while Xi will sit at the head of the table during Politburo meetings, any significant changes to Tibet policy would require a consensus among that group. It is difficult to be optimistic.