On the eve of the Tibetan new year, February 17, 2026, U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio stressed that the United States “remains committed to supporting the unalienable rights of Tibetans and their distinct linguistic, cultural, and religious heritage,” a commitment opposed to that of the Chinese Communist Party.
The occasion was the appointment of the assistant secretary of state for democracy, human rights, and labor, Riley Barnes, as the new U.S. Special Coordinator for Tibetan Issues. The envoy addresses “concerns related to Tibetan rights, cultural preservation, and dialogue.” The existence of an envoy who is not at all accepted as such by the governing power of Tibet is a way of telling Tibetans that the United States has not forgotten about their plight (New Kerala, February 17, 2026).
That the position is largely symbolic does not render it meaningless. If this were the case, the People’s Republic of China would ignore the news. But according to China’s Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the U.S. by making this appointment is “using Tibet-related issues to interfere in China’s internal affairs. Tibet affairs are China’s internal affairs and tolerate no interference from any external forces.”
Tibetans themselves, who are a part of Tibet affairs, would of course welcome interference, including more than symbolic interference, with the Chinese Communist Party’s repression of them.
Losar after occupation
The Tibet Rights Collective has published a timeline of how the Tibetan New Year, called Losar, has changed over the years. Before the 1950s—before Tibet was invaded and occupied by the PRC—Losar was “primarily religious and community-driven.” Monasteries conducted elaborate rituals. “The Dalai Lama played a central ceremonial role in Lhasa” (the capital of Tibet).
The years 1959 to 1976 were characterized by bans of religious ceremonies, closure or destruction of many monasteries, and a shift in celebration of Losar from “a public religious festival to quieter, private observance within families and small communities.”
Things got a little more liberal during the “Controlled Revival” of the 1980s and 1990s. This time was characterized by the reopening of some monasteries, limited resumption of public celebration of Losar, and the transformation of Losar “from a purely religious festival into a cultural heritage event under state oversight.”
In later years, state intervention has increased. Celebrations are “state-orchestrated” and convey messages of national unity. Meanwhile, religious restrictions and surveillance have increased. The “reframing” of Losar is consistent with broader policies designed to “integrate Tibetan religious and cultural identity into a unified national framework.”
