One of the members of my first parish was a respected teacher of autistic children. She was patient, kind, and extremely helpful to those in her charge. I once watched her handle a child who was emotionally compromised and disruptive in a local fast food restaurant. She simultaneously pacified the child, assured the patrons, and convinced the mildly idiotic restaurant manager not to call the cops, all with a preternatural calm. It really was her calling.Wherever I live, I shall feel homesick for Tibet. I often think I can still hear the cries of wild geese and cranes and the beating of their wings as they fly over Lhasa in the clear, cold moonlight. My heartfelt wish is that my story may create some understanding for a people whose will to live in peace and freedom has won so little sympathy from an indifferent world.
At some point, when attending some civic ceremony honoring local educators, I asked if my parishioner had ever been so honored. The chairwoman of the organization was horrified at my question. "Don't you know she used to be a Nazi? We won't be honoring that." The chairwoman was a member of the church across the town square from my own, but I don't think her denomination messed with that "reconciliation" stuff.
I was, as they say, non-plussed. Later, I would hear my parishioner's story.
She was born in Germany in the 1920's to a middle-class family in Leipzig. When she was placed by Germany's new government in a state organization for young people, one that promoted health and athleticism, the virtues of vegetarianism, and community service, she and every child in her school belonged. She also noted that it was where one met all of the "cute boys".
It was, as historically sensitive readers will have already surmised, the Hitler Youth. For this, she was branded a Nazi in perpetuity, even in the United States, traditionally the land of second chances and redemption. All she ever did in her teenage years was attend camping weekends and help clean roadways of debris and trash. Despite the great and valuable work she did for the remainder of her days, a choice made for her at fourteen would determine how some would regard her for the rest of her life. In our small town she was sometimes even shunned, except by the desperate parents of autistic children for whom no one else would serve their needs as well or as lovingly.
I thought of her upon the death of Heinrich Harrer, whose obituaries gave some glancing notice of his fascinating life and highly individual service to the global realities of the 20th century, but preferred to mention that, when he was in his twenties, in order to become a ski instructor to mountaineers, it was necessary for him to join the Schutzstaffel, the quasi-military organization of the Nazi Party. For this choice, made by an ambitious young man, he was deposited into the bin of history, shunned by historians and not to be mentioned by our moral superiors who make up the fourth estate. It's a pity, really, as his role is one that deserves some proper notice.
So, we'll begin in 1938, when Harrer, a 26-year-old Austrian, physical and vigorous, was determined to be the first to climb the North Face of the Eiger Mountain with a group of mountaineers. It was a daunting and ambitious goal, not to mention a tad suicidal, as the Eiger is a legendarily dangerous summit. However, owing to their training and natural robustness, they succeeded and became, for a few years, the toast of the close-knit world of mountain-climbers. World War II would intrude on such pursuits, however, as surely as the war would intrude on the lives of Harrer and his contemporaries on all sides of the conflict.
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| Upon returning from the Eiger, with Harrer on the left |
Harrer and a group of other Austro-German climbers had gathered in India to attempt a summit of Nanga Parbat, a 26,000 peak in the Himalayas, when war was declared in 1939. As India was still a British colony, and as the climbers were all healthy young men of military age, and hence mandated members of the German military, they were captured and placed in a prisoner-of-war camp in Bombay. While this was not a dire experience for non-combatant military such as Harrer, they were required by German military law to attempt to escape. [This is common, by the way. American military can face court-martial for not attempting to escape imprisonment.] This they did, time and again, only to be returned to the camp. In punishment for these repeated attempts, the prisoners were relocated to a less temperate environment in Dehradun, about 100 miles from India's border with Tibet. When Harrer and the others learned that one of their company could speak the Tibetan language, they formulated a more agreeable plan.
Since all of their attempts to exit captivity in India had been in a predictable direction, Harrer and Peter Aufschnaiter, a rare climber in that he was so self-effacing that his name is rarely mentioned in stories of Harrer, intended to make their way through Tibet to Burma, the latter then under the control of the Japanese, Germany's ostensible ally. In 1944, disguised as Indian laborers, the prisoners simply walked out of the gates of their camp and into the mountains. This would begin an adventure that, over the next seven years, would bring a previously mysterious and obtuse kingdom, and its enigmatic leader, into the forefront of post-war diplomacy and global politics.
Over a year-and-a-half after their successful escape, living by their wits and abilities, Harrer and Aufschnaiter arrived in Tibet's capital of Lhasa in 1946, unaware that the war had concluded some five months earlier. Since Lhasa was still so exotic it was only known as the inspiration for the fictional kingdom of Shangri-La in James Hilton's 1933 novel Lost Horizon, and since Western travelers were so rare as to be a curiosity observed by the locals from behind a yak, Harrer and Aufschnaiter's arrival was certainly noticed. While initially stand-offish, the very young leader of Tibet [and the branch of Buddhism known as Vajrayana] recognized that, with Tibet's newly Communist neighbor, China, ascendant and expressing an interest in annexing his country, it would be important to know something of the western world outside of the formidable walls of the Himalayas.
Thus, Heinrich Harrer was summoned to an audience with the 14th Dalai Lama, the thirteen-year-old god-king of Tibet. Being of an open mind and balanced spirituality, and a seemingly insatiable curiosity about...well, just about everything, the Dalai Lama found Harrer and his exploits fascinating. So much so that by 1948 Heinrich Harrer had become an official agent of the Tibetan government, responsible for tutoring the Lama in math, science, world history, and English. Harrer would even go so far as to build a simple movie theater for the Lama so that he might show him of life in the outside world. The two would share a mutual respect and friendship that would last for decades.
By 1952, the Chinese had invaded Tibet and begun a gradual take-over the country. Realizing that a Westerner would not be treated well by their new overlords, the Lama released Harrer from his obligation and saw to it that he was escorted back to the Indian border. Harrer would then return to Austria and a very different world from the one he had last seen in 1939. Things would deteriorate in Tibet to the point that the CIA eventually evacuated the Dalai Lama from Tibet and helped him set up a provisional government in neighboring Nepal, a place that serves as his "temporary" capital to this day.
Harrer, now forty, did what he had done before, with one notable addition. As the post-war world was being reminded of what peace could be like, and as Harrer, still celebrated within his tight mountaineering community, had now returned from obscurity, he was in demand to climb and explore in a number of places from Alaska to the Amazon to the Mountains of the Moon. There was also now a deep interest in the more remote parts of the world and he became a celebrated public speaker, detailing his adventures as the special adviser to the Dalai Lama, making the god-king known and accessible to the Western audiences.
[If you're wondering whatever happened to Peter Aufschnaiter, while Harrer and the god-king were watching movies, Aufschnaiter was designing Lhasa's first sewage system and hydro-electric plant, plus contributing to the field of archaeology by cataloging the finds uncovered by the digging necessary for the construction of his Tibetan innovations. While Harrer would return to Europe, Aufschnaiter would remain in Nepal, eventually becoming a Nepalese citizen, and continue his work for the benefit of the Tibetan/Nepalese people. The difference between the two men is that, acting upon what we now call "branding", Harrer created a role for himself on the lecture circuit, Aufschnaiter didn't.]
In addition to his continued exploration and lecturing, Harrer wrote 20 books about his experiences, with the best among them being Seven Years in Tibet. [In testimony to its popularity, it would be made into a movie with Brad Pitt playing the role of Harrer.] It is still in print along with his journal of the ascent of the Eiger's North Face and his experiences upon returning to Tibet many years after the Chinese occupation. Additionally, he made several documentaries for German television that informed a new generation about Tibet and its travails, eventually creating the Heinrich Harrer Museum in Austria.
Upon his death in 2006 at the age of 93, Harrer's old student and friend, who had risen in recognition and popularity throughout the world during the remainder of the 20th century, would write the following:
Since all of their attempts to exit captivity in India had been in a predictable direction, Harrer and Peter Aufschnaiter, a rare climber in that he was so self-effacing that his name is rarely mentioned in stories of Harrer, intended to make their way through Tibet to Burma, the latter then under the control of the Japanese, Germany's ostensible ally. In 1944, disguised as Indian laborers, the prisoners simply walked out of the gates of their camp and into the mountains. This would begin an adventure that, over the next seven years, would bring a previously mysterious and obtuse kingdom, and its enigmatic leader, into the forefront of post-war diplomacy and global politics.
Over a year-and-a-half after their successful escape, living by their wits and abilities, Harrer and Aufschnaiter arrived in Tibet's capital of Lhasa in 1946, unaware that the war had concluded some five months earlier. Since Lhasa was still so exotic it was only known as the inspiration for the fictional kingdom of Shangri-La in James Hilton's 1933 novel Lost Horizon, and since Western travelers were so rare as to be a curiosity observed by the locals from behind a yak, Harrer and Aufschnaiter's arrival was certainly noticed. While initially stand-offish, the very young leader of Tibet [and the branch of Buddhism known as Vajrayana] recognized that, with Tibet's newly Communist neighbor, China, ascendant and expressing an interest in annexing his country, it would be important to know something of the western world outside of the formidable walls of the Himalayas.
Thus, Heinrich Harrer was summoned to an audience with the 14th Dalai Lama, the thirteen-year-old god-king of Tibet. Being of an open mind and balanced spirituality, and a seemingly insatiable curiosity about...well, just about everything, the Dalai Lama found Harrer and his exploits fascinating. So much so that by 1948 Heinrich Harrer had become an official agent of the Tibetan government, responsible for tutoring the Lama in math, science, world history, and English. Harrer would even go so far as to build a simple movie theater for the Lama so that he might show him of life in the outside world. The two would share a mutual respect and friendship that would last for decades.
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| The Special Counsel to His Holiness, the 14th Dalai Lama |
Harrer, now forty, did what he had done before, with one notable addition. As the post-war world was being reminded of what peace could be like, and as Harrer, still celebrated within his tight mountaineering community, had now returned from obscurity, he was in demand to climb and explore in a number of places from Alaska to the Amazon to the Mountains of the Moon. There was also now a deep interest in the more remote parts of the world and he became a celebrated public speaker, detailing his adventures as the special adviser to the Dalai Lama, making the god-king known and accessible to the Western audiences.
[If you're wondering whatever happened to Peter Aufschnaiter, while Harrer and the god-king were watching movies, Aufschnaiter was designing Lhasa's first sewage system and hydro-electric plant, plus contributing to the field of archaeology by cataloging the finds uncovered by the digging necessary for the construction of his Tibetan innovations. While Harrer would return to Europe, Aufschnaiter would remain in Nepal, eventually becoming a Nepalese citizen, and continue his work for the benefit of the Tibetan/Nepalese people. The difference between the two men is that, acting upon what we now call "branding", Harrer created a role for himself on the lecture circuit, Aufschnaiter didn't.]
In addition to his continued exploration and lecturing, Harrer wrote 20 books about his experiences, with the best among them being Seven Years in Tibet. [In testimony to its popularity, it would be made into a movie with Brad Pitt playing the role of Harrer.] It is still in print along with his journal of the ascent of the Eiger's North Face and his experiences upon returning to Tibet many years after the Chinese occupation. Additionally, he made several documentaries for German television that informed a new generation about Tibet and its travails, eventually creating the Heinrich Harrer Museum in Austria.
Upon his death in 2006 at the age of 93, Harrer's old student and friend, who had risen in recognition and popularity throughout the world during the remainder of the 20th century, would write the following:
'When I first met him in 1949, he was from a world I was not familiar with. I learned many things, particularly about Europe, from him.'I want to take this opportunity to express my immense gratitude and appreciation for his creating so much awareness about Tibet and the Tibetan people through his well-known book Seven Years in Tibet and the many lectures he gave throughout his life. His love and respect for the Tibetan people are clearly evident in his writings and his talks'.'We feel we have lost a loyal friend from the West, who had the unique opportunity to experience life in Tibet for seven long years before Tibet lost its freedom. We Tibetans will always remember Heinrich Harrer and will miss him greatly.