In the forever Prague spring

For all that it's seen and been, the Czech capital remains one of the most enchanting cities in Europe.

Carleton Cole
THE NATION
April 26, 2008

As the tram manoeuvres through Prague's Stare Mesto - the Old Town - my attention is drawn to advertisements for consumer products lining the interior. Though small and discreet, they still say something about the 1989 Velvet Revolution.

So far the Czechs have pretty much avoided the excesses of capitalism, and the "City of 100 Spires" has not become a city of 100 billboards. It is still largely the Prague of Kafka, complete with a lingering aura of mystery.

Governments further west were never quite sure what to do with this ethnic enclave in the heart of Europe. Czechoslovakia - the Allies' concoction created out of the remnants of the Austro-Hungarian Empire following World War I - stood for modest political and economic prosperity, proving well how the Czechs can perform when freed from the German or Russian yolk.

The Vltava River's dark waters carry no reflection and I feel myself being drawn into its grey depths. On the far bank, the towers and church spires pierce the cloudy sky and the green copper patina on St Nicholas Church glistens in the spring rain.

Down the river, small crowds gather atop the centuries-old stone arches of the Charles Bridge, an epitome of Bohemian style.

Prague's coffeehouse tradition of progressive debate may be but a memory now, but its essence survives on the bridge. Walking across the short span can take hours - there is so much to see. Eclecticism thrives under the watchful eyes of the stone saints lining both sides, who seem to approve as the assembled hawkers sell communist-era paraphernalia and handcrafted jewellery to the tourists.

It was under the enlightened rule of Charles IV, for whom the bridge is named, that Prague became a leading cultural centre. Through Austro-Hungarian occupation, an arranged marriage with Slovakia, Nazi invasion and Soviet domination, the country has remained unique.

Every major European language can be heard while crossing the bridge. A local man switches from Czech to English to German as he educates passers-by on the abysmal environmental legacy left by communism.
His devotion to the subject is evident in his lively, often comical approach.

At the end of the bridge are the Mala Strana - the Lesser Town - and eventually Hradcany Castle, to which early Czech monarchs made their way along this route following their coronation.

The drizzling rain doesn't deter the street artists, who make clever use of plastic sheets. Their sketches and watercolours of city scenes tend to omit colourful store signs - that would give too much credence to the modern economy. Thankfully, the Mala Strana Bridge towers are big enough to hide most of it.

Passing between the towers, I make my way up into the higher altitudes of the Lesser Town. Its maze of twisting, narrow lanes is dotted with small cafes with wrought-iron chairs and tables. The atmosphere is more like that of a mediaeval provincial town than a national capital.

At the top of an alley of terraced houses in different pastel hues, St Nicholas Church has an interior so beautiful that non-Catholics will consider converting - indeed, that was the point of the design.

In testimony to Prague's baroque grace, the church's statues and colourful frescoes glimmer in the kaleidoscopic sunlight shining through the elongated stained-glass windows. Further up the hillside is Hradcany Castle, epicentre of Czech political power through the centuries. Here in 1968, Soviet tanks abruptly ended five years of enlightened socialism during the infamous Prague Spring.

It was also here, during the Velvet Revolution of '89, that Czechs resumed the fight once lost - and this time emerged victorious.

The sun breaks through the clouds as if in veneration to a gothic certainty. This time, the Prague spring has reached full bloom.

One world, two dreams

Unlike the chaotic scenes that greeted the Olympic torch elsewhere, its arrival in Bangkok was a jubilant event for the local Chinese who vastly outnumbered protesters

Carleton Cole, Sutamon Lertmanorat
The Nation

April 24, 2008

In what looked like a scene out of the Cultural Revolution, Chinese-Thai of all ages and mainland Chinese students marched with flags held high and loudly sang nationalist songs on Saturday near Sanam Luang.

Wearing large Chinese flags like capes, waving smaller ones, and sporting painted versions on their cheeks, the young Chinese were out in force to proudly celebrate the Olympic torch coming to Bangkok.

"There are almost 1,000 Chinese students from many Thai universities here today," said Yan Pan, 19, from Dalian in northeastern China, a business student at Bangkok's Assumption University.

"We are proud that China is hosting the Olympic Games and we are here to protect our torch - because some people want to snuff it out."

After passing through New Delhi under tight security due to the high number of exiled Tibetans in India, the flame was warmly welcomed on Friday night in Thailand, a country with seven million Chinese - the second-largest Chinese population outside the homeland.

Shinawat Tarapan, chairman of the Chinese Foundation in Phetchaburi, said he was happy to make the trip.

"The Olympics promote sport in a harmonious way. It is a sacred ceremony which should not involve politics."

Lin Chao Bu, a former Chinese-language teacher at the Jianhua Chinese School in Nakhon Pathom, was holding a poster that read "One world, one dream".

"People around the world," he said, "are joyful about China fulfilling its dream of hosting the Olympic Games."

In explainig the concept "One world, one dream", the official slogan of Olympic 2008, the Games' website says, "It expresses the common wishes of people all over the world, inspired by the Olympic ideals, to strive for a bright future of Mankind."

Waiting provocatively behind barricades on Rajdamnoen Avenue near the United Nations building were some 150 pro-Tibetan protesters on one side of the road and 300 pro-Chinese on the other.

The groups exchanged verbal assaults, with the pro-Tibetan camp yelling, "Hu Jintao, free Tibet!" To this the Chinese retorted, "One world, one dream, one China!"

"It's impossible to separate politics from the Olympics," said one pro-Tibetan protester - a man from Chicago who is working in Thailand and spoke on condition of anonymity.

"It's like 1936, when Europe turned a blind eye to the true nature of Hitler and still let the Olympics go on in Berlin.

"Some people say the protests will make China even angrier, but somebody has to say something - if not, it will be only the people across the street who say something.

"If you look at the opposite side of the street," he said, "you see a homogenous group of Chinese students. On this side is the rest of the world, where there are Thais, Westerners and Tibetans."

"I am here to tell the Chinese to support human rights," said Angkana, a Thai woman wearing one of the common protest signs at the gathering, each bearing the name of a person arrested in China for their political views. Her sign read "Lobsang" and the date March 18,2008.

Also on view was a poster proclaiming "The evil empire strikes back" with an image of Darth Vader wielding a red Olympic torch rather than a light sabre, and simple handwritten ones saying “Free Tibet” and “Play Fair”.

While the protesters' mottoes and signs were blatant and to the point, the Chinese signs were more poetic and akin to a fortune-cookie message, like "Light the passion, share the dream" and "Lasting forever: Thai-Chinese friendship".

"Protesting the Olympic torch is not good for anybody, not for Tibetan, not for Chinese," says Tenzin Josh. The Englishman and former monk in the Tibetan tradition, who was ordained by the Dalai Lama, was one of the speakers at the Foreign Correspondents' Club of Thailand on Tuesday.

"Instead of seeing peace and harmony, we see problems and protests. It could have been a wonderful thing for China to bring the Olympic torch to the whole world. For the first time in history people around the world can see China and relate to China.

"Protests in London, Paris or in Bangkok are not going to help. It has to come through meaningful dialogue, trust and understaning between China and Tibet."

Passing the flame for Tibet‏

April 7, 2007

Carleton Cole

At a subdued candlelit gathering in front of the Chinese embassy, protesters called on China to end repression of the not-exactly-autonomous territory.

As the flame for the Beijing Olympics arrived in China a week ago today, ready for its global odyssey, eight pro-Tibetan protesters sat on the ground in front of the Chinese Embassy in Bangkok and passed a light of their own from candle to candle.

In Thai and English, the small group on Ratchadaphisek Road - outnumbered by watchful police - stated their demand for peace in Tibet for a dozen or so journalists taking notes and tussling for the best photo angles. "This is the second demonstration we've held in front of the Chinese Embassy - the first was on March 19," Free Tibet Network (FTN) coordinator Pokpong Lawansiri told The Nation.

"The purpose of the FTN is to make Thais and expatriates more aware of the crackdown in Tibet."We are reiterating our demand for the Chinese government to end the crackdown and allow freedom of expression and assembly," he said. "We also call on the Thai government and the Thai Olympic Committee to make it clear that they do not agree with the Chinese government's violation of human rights."

During the demonstration the protesters stepped aside to allow a stately black sedan to pass through the embassy gate. A young woman, who asked to be identified only as Ploy, shouted at the car, "Tibet is not part of China!"She held a section of a large Tibetan flag, a sign reading, "China we are watching you!" and a photo of Tibet's spiritual leader with the caption "Long Live His Holiness the Dalai Lama".

The protesters also held posters denouncing Chinese rule in Tibet, some wearing T-shirts bearing the Tibetan flag, with its snow lion symbol.

The subdued rally lasted just over an hour. In contrast to the recent bloody pro-Tibetan street clashes and arrests in Lhasa and Kathmandu, there was no threat of violence. The police assigned to the event, with little to do but keep watch, took photos of the small assembly.

"I've come here tonight because I have known Tibetans," Ploy said. "I've visited them in southern India. I lived with them for a month."People say Thailand is the Land of Smiles, but when I met the Tibetans I knew that they were from the real Land of Smiles, more than us. We have the same Lord Buddha."

A pamphlet was distributed promoting an upcoming seminar on Tibet at Thammasat University, espousing "the peaceful middle path of the Dalai Lama". Pushing for autonomy for Tibet, it said, echoing his stand, is more logical than holding out for independence. Yet among the monks in Tibet and young Tibetan exiles in India who have never seen their homeland, demands for independence are growing louder.

"I'm just an ordinary guy from London," said Ron Aslan, one of the two Westerners participating in the demonstration. He was promoting the website http://www.avaaz.org/, which is hosting an online petition abhorring the violence in Tibet, and held a sign saying, "1.5 million say it's time for dialogue with the Dalai Lama".

"We will continue to hold protests," said Pokpong. "I believe in the rights of all people, whether they're Thai, Burmese, Cambodian, Chinese or Tibetan. "I believe in universal human rights, beyond borders. Tibetans and Thais are the same. When Thais see Tibetans being discriminated against, we should rise up and condemn it."