
RANGZEN
“Remember the suffering brought by the changing times to the people of the snowland, the people endowed with history, courage and a sense of national responsibility. Remember their unflinching determination and let us continue to develop our own sense of national responsibility.
— The Dalai Lama Tenzin Gyatso April 30, 2000
Rangzen is a Tibetan word meaning freedom. For Tibetans, it is also synonymous with the struggle for a free and autonomous Tibet—a struggle rooted in non-violence, love, and compassion, yet one that feels more impossible by the day.
In October 1950, China invaded Tibet after its claims of sovereignty were rejected by the Tibetan government and people. The UN General Assembly condemned the invasion and called for an end to Chinese repression, but these appeals were ignored. What followed was an occupation marked by brutal oppression, destruction, and systematic efforts to erase the Tibetan way of life and national identity.
After nearly a decade of repression, amid growing fears that the Dalai Lama would be arrested or even assassinated, the Tibetan people rose in protest on March 10, 1959. Tens of thousands surrounded the Potala Palace in Lhasa, the home of the Dalai Lama. In response, China launched a fierce counter-offensive, killing thousands of Tibetans, capturing Lhasa, dissolving the Tibetan government, and forcing the Dalai Lama into exile.
During the conflict, approximately 87,000 Tibetans and 2,000 Chinese were killed. More than 100,000 Tibetans fled to neighboring countries—India, Nepal, and Bhutan—many undertaking grueling and dangerous journeys through the Himalayas, battling extreme conditions while evading capture, imprisonment, or torture at the hands of Chinese authorities. Most never returned. The majority of their children, and their children’s children, have never set foot on Tibetan soil and likely never will. As a result, their sense of Tibetan identity is deeply complex—rooted in exile and now standing on the precipice of another tragedy. More subtle, more insidious, but just as grave: the death of a generation. A generation that still remembers Tibet before the Chinese occupation, a generation that still carries the stories of their homeland. With China’s stranglehold over Tibet continuing unabated, the importance of sharing these stories and preserving the incredibly rich and unique culture, history and language, grows ever more crucial—and ever more complicated.
These people are Tibetan.
These are their stories.
Hear their voices.