Tibet is one of the most linguistically diverse regions in the world, yet many of its languages are on the brink of extinction.
In December, just three days after his release from prison, Tibetan village leader Gonpo Namgyal died. During preparations for his traditional Tibetan funeral, signs of severe torture were discovered on his body. His crime? Advocating for the preservation of the Tibetan language in China.
Gonpo Namgyal’s tragic fate is part of a decades-long conflict that began when China invaded Tibet in the mid-20th century. Language has been at the heart of this struggle, as Tibetans work to protect their linguistic heritage against the Chinese government’s push for Mandarin dominance.
Tibetan children are increasingly losing fluency in their native tongue due to state-run boarding schools, where Mandarin is the primary language of instruction. Tibetan is taught only a few times per week—far from sufficient to sustain the language across generations.
My research, published in a book in 2024, sheds light on the challenges faced by lesser-known minority languages in Tibet, which often receive even less attention than Tibetan itself.
My findings reveal that language politics in Tibet are complex and sustained through both overt and subtle forms of violence—not only by Chinese authorities but also by some Tibetans. Furthermore, well-intentioned external efforts to support Tibet’s linguistic preservation have failed to protect the most endangered languages.
Between 2005 and 2013, I lived in Ziling, the largest city on the Tibetan Plateau, where I taught at a university, studied Tibetan, and worked with local non-governmental organizations. My subsequent research has focused on the Rebgong Valley, where I conducted interviews, household surveys, and analysis of Tibetan-language materials, including government policies, social media posts, and song lyrics.
Tensions escalated in 2008 when Tibetans staged large-scale protests against Chinese rule ahead of the Beijing Olympics. In response, the government imposed mass arrests, surveillance, and severe restrictions on expressions of Tibetan identity—especially in language and religion. Since 2009, over 150 Tibetans have self-immolated in protest against Chinese repression.
Tibet’s linguistic landscape is vast, with approximately 60 languages spoken in the region. Around 4% of Tibetans—roughly 250,000 people—speak a minority language. Yet government policies mandate the use of Mandarin, marginalizing those who rely solely on Tibetans. This language suppression has led to employment barriers, discrimination, and even violence against Tibetans who do not speak Mandarin fluently.
State support for Tibetan language education has dwindled over the years, with the government recently banning private Tibetan lessons and tutors during school holidays. Meanwhile, Tibet’s linguistic minorities face additional challenges, as they often need to learn both Tibetan and Mandarin to communicate with teachers, employers, and officials.
In Rebgong, where I conducted much of my research, locals speak Manegacha, a language increasingly being replaced by Tibetan. Today, about a third of Manegacha-speaking families are raising their children to speak Tibetan instead. At the same time, the government provides no resources for learning or using minority languages like Manegacha and allows systemic discrimination against their speakers.
Assimilationist policies are accelerating the erosion of linguistic diversity across Tibet, leading to cultural disintegration and adverse impacts on mental and physical well-being. Social bonds and communal identities are being dismantled as native languages disappear.
Tibetan resistance to Chinese rule dates back to the People’s Liberation Army’s invasion in the 1950s. The movement gained international momentum in 1959 when the Dalai Lama fled to India. Over the years, global governments have expressed support for Tibetan self-determination, including the U.S. Congress’s passage of the Resolve Tibet Act in 2024.
However, external interventions have largely overlooked some of Tibet’s most vulnerable populations—those who speak minority languages. Manegacha speakers, for instance, continue their resistance by using their language in daily life, sharing online content in Manegacha, and challenging the discrimination they face.
Yet if minority languages like Manegacha disappear, it will advance the Chinese government’s broader objective of erasing Tibetan culture. Even if Tibet survives as a language, the loss of any of Tibet’s linguistic minorities would still mark a victory for the Chinese Communist Party in its decades-long campaign of cultural assimilation.
