Then came electric shocks to her face, mouth and arms.
Choedon was 16, a Buddhist nun, and she was being punished for a tiny act of defiance against the Chinese Communist government: On Feb. 3, 1992, Choedon, in her burgundy robes, walked to the Jokhang, Tibet's most sacred temple, with five other young nuns. There, they prayed. Then they chanted these words: ``Long live His Holiness the Dalai Lama. Independence for Tibet. Peace to the world.''
Within minutes, Choedon was arrested. She said police threw her in a van, then beat her and kicked her with metal-toed boots. When she arrived at the jail, she said, police shocked her face, mouth and arms repeatedly with a 7,000-volt cattle prod.
``Then I went numb,'' Choedon recalled last month in an interview in India, where she has lived since 1995. ``Then the next day, all the pain hit me again.''
She was sentenced without trial and served three years in prison. Three other nuns imprisoned with her also were tortured repeatedly, she said. They were not as fortunate as Choedon. They died after their torture - at ages 18, 19 and 24.
In Tibet, a land occupied by China since 1949, torture and intimidation are facts of life for Tibetans caught up in a Chinese campaign to eradicate Tibet's religion, nationality and culture. In hundreds of interviews over the last two years, Tibetans have said Chinese police routinely arrest, jail and torture people who question Chinese authority, even in the most mundane ways.
Tibet, known primarily for its Buddhism and scenic mountains, was invaded by China over a 10-year period beginning in 1949. The Tibetan government - headed by the nation's spiritual and political leader, the Dalai Lama - fled to exile in India in 1959, when China seized control of Lhasa, the capital.
Tibetans interviewed in India, Nepal and Tibet said Chinese police and prison guards beat prisoners with chains, metal rods, and wooden sticks spiked with nails - usually while the victims are shackled or hanging from a ceiling. The most common instrument of torture, the Tibetans said, is the electric cattle prod, used in most countries to herd cows weighing up to 1,200 pounds. The police ram the prods into prisoners' mouths, rectums and vaginas, according to Tibetans who have been imprisoned.
The former prisoners also report that police have held them in water while shocking them, branded their flesh with hot irons, kicked and beat them while they were on the ground, ordered trained dogs to attack and bite them, and locked them in concrete ``coffins'' for days or months at a time.
Virtually all Tibetans arrested for political reasons are tortured, according to interviews with hundreds of Tibetans, most of whom had been in prison.
China's official response to these findings was given last week by Lu Wen Xiang, first secretary in the press office of the Chinese Embassy in Washington: ``This is not government policy. Chinese law forbids torture in jail. . . . I can't say this never happens. It depends on certain people.''
China regards Tibet as part of China, saying China's activities there are an internal matter.
While atrocities in Bosnia and other countries command world attention, China has managed to keep the struggle in Tibet quiet. As the sole remaining superpower, the United States is the only nation with the political and economic leverage to pressure China into curbing human-rights abuses. It has condemned China's human-rights policies, but has not taken tough measures such as economic sanctions.
For the last 16 years, China has requested - and received - most-favored-nation trade status, which allows it to export goods to the United States with low tariffs. The United States has denied such trade status to eight countries - including North Korea and Cuba - citing human-rights violations and other policy differences.
In 1995, China sold $45.5 billion in goods to the United States. Some of China's profits from exports to America are used, indirectly, to fund China's military and police activities in Tibet - including its suppression of Tibetans.
Excerpt from "Inside Tibet" Inquirer Dec 8 1996
