The Ultimate Sacrifice: Tragedy in Tibet

Last week, in the highest form of nonviolent resistance, a 20 year old women, Tenzin Wangmo, set herself fire in a Tibetan town near China, imploring that the Chinese government grant religious freedom to Tibet and allow for the peaceful return of The Dalai Lama. While Tenzin Wangmo was the 9th Tibetan to self-immolate in protest of the Chinese policies against Tibet this year alone, she is the first woman in the Free Tibet movement to have take this action- ever.

Tragically, self-immolation is rather common amongst women in some parts of the world, particularly Afghanistan. However, more often than not in these cases, the most commonly sited cause for such action is an extreme reaction to violence against women. 'Women and girls appear to see this horrifying act as a means of both escaping from intolerable conditions and speaking out against abuse, since their actual voices do not bring about changes that would allow them to lead safe and secure lives.' Conversely, some view Tenzin Wangmo's act as the most extreme act of selflessness--some Buddhists believe that only through their own suffering can they bring Enlightenment to others.

Not surprisingly, reaction to her death has been mixed. “The Dalai Lama has said many times in the past that suicidal protests are not something he approves of or wants to encourage, but he can’t put himself in the position of criticizing people’s right to protest, and he certainly can’t put himself in the position of saying these people don’t experience intolerable pressure … It’s quite clear that they do.”

Post-Valentine's Day Reflection: What's Love Got to Do With It?

Just more than a month has passed since Americans witnessed in disbelief as a young, frustrated solitary gunman in Arizona killed six fellow citizens in cold blood and wounded more than a dozen others. This stunning national tragedy generated immediate finger pointing and scapegoating, knee-jerk reactions evidencing the fault lines within U.S. politics. Slowly, however, aggressive vitriol gave way to what felt like communal sobbing. During the first 24 hours following the attack, it seemed as if millions of Americans traversed the stages of grief, albeit at vastly differing paces.

The evening of January 12th, President Obama stood before the families and friends of the slain and wounded citizens. He spoke earnestly and deeply to them in their grief. Summoned to assuage profound sorrow, to rationalize the irrational, and perhaps -- above all -- to reunite a nation deeply at odds, he chose to address the American people on themes that seldom enter political discourse. He spoke about the need for humility, for kindness, and for genuine human compassion.

With the oratorial flourish and sincerity that have become his trademarks, Obama reasoned that the sudden loss of loved ones in such a tragic, violent manner both "causes us to look backward [and] forces us to look forward, to reflect on the present and the future, on the manner in which we live our lives and nurture our relationships . . ." At times of deep loss, he reflected, we are brought face-to-face with our own mortality, the brevity of our human lives, and the fact that ultimately, ". . . what matters is not wealth, or status or power, or fame -- but rather, how well we have loved, and what small part we have played in bettering the lives of others."

As we open the pages of today's newspapers or watch the home pages of world news sites come into focus on our computers, we are bathed in images of violent reprisal to acts of nonviolent resistance. From Bahrain to Iran, Jordan to Yemen, from Iraq to the sandy soil of Egypt -- and all the places where the struggle of ordinary people to gain a legitimate voice in the laws and policies that so deeply influence the degree of their personal freedom and well-being -- we are told of aggression, of force, of some response other than that motivated by genuine human compassion. Into these spaces, I'd like to speak Obama's question: Rooted in the sanctuary of my own free and fortunate life, what small part can I play in improving the lives of others?

Long live and celebrate those brave enough to join the nonviolent movement for freedom, for voice, for greater well-being for all citizens.

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For the full text of President Obama's remarks on January 12th in Tucson, click here.

For more about the nonviolent protests across the Arab World, consult: Democracy Now! or Al Jazeera.