My journey to the United Nations began, as many things do in our social media age, with a casual scroll through Facebook. A schoolmate now working in the CTA had shared a promotion for the Global Peace Summit in New York. Intrigued, I learned it was a prestigious event organized by the Global Peace Chain in cooperation with the Permanent Mission of Pakistan to the UN, drawing influential youth from around the world.
I applied, hoping for a fully or partially funded spot, and after paying the required application fee, I received an acceptance letter. My initial elation, however, was short-lived. I had been selected to represent Tibet, but in the self-funded category. The registration and travel fees seemed an insurmountable hurdle on my modest salary.
Just as I was about to give up, I reached out to a relative who lives in Boston. He gladly provided the financial support for the admission fees, but more importantly, he gave me a mission. He told me this was a crucial opportunity to represent our country and to “amplify the voice of the voiceless Tibetans inside Tibet, who look up to us to resolve the Tibet issue.” Empowered by his support, I applied for a Visa and secured it without difficulty. To save on costs, I arranged to stay with a friend in Jackson Heights, not far from the conference venue. Upon my arrival at the airport, I was met with a warm welcome; a friendโs friend was there to pick me up, and the secretary of the Regional Tibetan Youth Congress also came on behalf of the regional chapter.
The next day, we were informed that the first venue of the conference was at the United Nations Headquarters. I was carrying three Tibetan national flags of varying sizes, each one a symbol of our struggle and identity. My heart sank when security informed me that all delegate-carried flags were barred from the entrance. Though deeply disappointed, I took a moment to capture some pictures with photos of former UN Secretaries before proceeding into the main hall, determined to find another way to represent my country and the people.
Stepping into the UN hall was a surreal experience. I was struck by its architectural grandeur and deeply moved by the sight of the iconic seating arrangements where nations plead their cases. I had finally made it, and I was proudly representing my country, Tibet.
The topic of the High-Level Panel Discussion was “Youth Leadership and Global Diplomacy.” As I scanned the list of distinguished speakers, one name seized my attention: Ambassador Geng Shuang, the Deputy Permanent Representative of China to the UN. I knew him by reputation; he was the former, notoriously hardline spokesperson for the Chinese Foreign Ministry.
Immediately, I began formulating two questions, designed to expose China’s policies of eradicating Tibetan identity and to challenge their refusal to engage with His Holiness the Dalai Lama. As the Q&A session began, I raised my hand at every opportunity, but I was consistently overlooked.
The reason became clear later. An inside source confirmed my suspicions: the organizers had been privately instructed not to put the Chinese representative in an “uncomfortable” position. A wave of bitter disappointment washed over me. The one official platform I had, the one chance to speak truth to power on a global stage, had been censored.
But that feeling didn’t last long. As soon as the formal session concluded, the speakers and diplomats began mingling with the delegates. My disappointment was quickly replaced by a new determination. My eyes scanned the crowd, and then I saw him. Geng Shuang was interacting with a small group of Chinese delegates and some other foreign delegate. This was my real opportunity.
I knew I had to seize the moment. I asked another delegate to record what was about to happen and then approached him. I introduced myself as a Tibetan and immediately challenged him on the colonial boarding schools in Tibet, a system designed to eradicate the very identity of our people. As I spoke of the atrocities, he tried to cut me off, beginning with the predictable, dismissive line: “Since you havenโt been in Tibet, you donโt know the real situationโฆ” But he paused, asking, “Where are you based? Where do you live?” It was a trap, designed to discredit me as an outsider.
I cut off his pre-scripted dismissal. “I escaped from Tibet,” I said, “and have been living in exile for over twenty years.”
He pressed, “How long were you in Tibet?”
“For more than ten years,” I replied.
“Then you know Tibet is part of China,” he stated, as if it were an undeniable fact.
I vehemently rejected his claim. “Historically, Tibet has never been part of China,” I countered. “If it was, why did your government need to force a 17-Point Agreement upon Tibetโa treaty you don’t have with any of colonized countries.”
He grew visibly uneasy and tried to evade the question, muttering that it takes a “long conversation.” I pressed my advantage, asking why China refuses to implement even the basic rights guaranteed in its own constitution. Then, I asked my final question: “Why do Chinese leaders avoid dialogue with His Holiness the 14th Dalai Lama? He is revered globally as a messenger of peace, one of the most loved leaders yet your government labels him a ‘wolf in monk’s robe.”
To my astonishment, he diverged from the party line. He acknowledged His Holiness as a “good religious leader” before quickly deflecting, “but politics is complicated.” He then immediately pivoted, attempting to claim that there is religious freedom in Tibet. I have since had the privilege of sharing the details of this encounter, including the Chinese representative’s surprising acknowledgment of His Holiness the Dalai Lama, with some of the secretaries in His Holiness’s office.
This was an opening I could not let pass. I immediately listed the evidence of true religious repression: the ban on possessing a portrait of His Holiness in our own homes, the forced expulsion of monks under 18 from their monasteries, and the state-sanctioned demolition of sacred monasteries and stupas.
As we spoke, I could see the Chinese delegates watching us in stunned silence. A delegate from Latvia later told me how surprised he was to hear a Chinese official acknowledge His Holiness as a “good religious leader”โa rare break from their usual propaganda.
When our conversation ended, I made a conscious decision. I did not shake his hand. It was a small act, but it was a gesture of respect for the Tibetan martyrs who have lost their lives under the brutal hand of the Red Chinese regime.
The confrontation had clearly sent ripples through their delegation. For the remaining two days of the summit, I sought to engage with the Chinese youth delegates, but they actively avoided me. I don’t know if it was because I had challenged their leader, or for some other reason, but a wall of silence had gone up.
The final, telling moment came during the cultural presentation, when delegates were asked to represent their countries. I proudly raised the Tibetan flag high. In stark contrast, the Chinese delegates kept silence and never raised their flag. Perhaps, in a free and democratic country, they felt the shame of raising a flag that has become a symbol of occupation and oppression.
Although my journey to the summit was unofficial and self-funded, it also provided an unexpected opportunity to carry out some official duties of the Tibetan Youth Congress. I extended my stay in the United States until after the New Year to minimize travel costs, and during this time, I was sustained by the incredible generosity of relatives and friends. I am profoundly grateful for their support.
I have wanted to document this experience for a long time, and I regret not doing so sooner. However, I now feel a sense of duty to record this incident, not for myself, but so that it may find its place in the history of the Tibetan freedom movement. A direct, spontaneous challenge to a high-ranking Chinese official on the world stage is a rare event, and the details must not be lost.
Some of the prominent representatives I had the opportunity to meet during the Summit:
Assistant Secretary General for Youth Affairs, Dr.
Felipe Paullier, Consul General of Pakistan Mr. Aamer Ahmed Atozai, Consul General of Sweden Mr. Erik Ullenhag, H.E Ambassador Kelver Dwight Darroux of Dominica, Dr.Andrise Bass, Dr. Rahat Iqbal, H.E Ambassador Mr. Stan Oduma Smith, Permanent Mission of Bahamas to United Nations, Acting Permanent Representative of Pakistan to the United Nations, Ambassador Usman Jadoon, Deputy Permanent, Representative of China to the UN Ambassador Geng Shuang, Deputy Permanent Representative of Observer Mission of Palestine to the UN, Ambassador Ms. Feda M. Abdelhady
