Turner spent nearly a year in Tibet, and though he was unable to visit Lhasa owing to the antipathy of the Lamas, he was able to obtain some substantial concessions from the Regent of the Tashi Lama at Shigatse. He obtained[[5]] “his promise of encouragement to all merchants, natives of India, that may be sent to traffic in Tibet, on behalf of the Government of Bengal,” and he reports to Warren Hastings that his authority alone is requisite to secure these merchants the protection of the Regent, who had promised to grant free admission into Tibet to all such merchants, natives of India, as shall come recommended by the Governor of Bengal; to yield them every assistance requisite for the transport of their goods; and to assign them a place of residence for vending their commodities, either within the monastery at Shigatse, or, should it be considered as more eligible, in the town itself. He did not consider it consistent with the spirit of Warren Hastings’ instructions, he reports, to be importunate for greater privileges than those to native traders. Such as he had obtained he hoped would suffice to open the much-wished-for communication. When merchants had learnt the way, tasted the profit and established intercourse, the traffic might bear a tax, which, if laid upon it in its infancy, might suppress its growth.
Turner rejoined Warren Hastings at Patna in March, 1784, and I remember seeing, among some original letters of Warren Hastings in the Indian Foreign Office, an enthusiastic appreciation of Turner’s work, and an expression of the great pleasure the meeting afforded him; for Hastings was as warmly appreciative with some men as he was coldly reserved with others.
As long as Hastings remained in India our intercourse with Tibet prospered. But soon after his departure a contretemps occurred, and all his work was undone. In 1792 the Nepalese invaded Tibet, sacked Shigatse, and carried off all the plunder of the monasteries. The Lamas had to flee across the Brahmaputra and apply for protection to the Chinese. A Chinese army was despatched to their assistance. The Nepalese were defeated and driven back across their own frontier, and peace was only concluded upon the conditions of an annual tribute to the Emperor and the full restitution of all the spoils which they carried off.
By an unfortunate circumstance, through the first British Envoy having arrived in Nepal just about the time of this invasion, the Chinese commander formed the impression that we had instigated, or at least encouraged, the Nepalese in their attack on Tibet; and the representations which he made to his Government, coupled, says Turner, with our declining to afford effectual assistance to the Lamas’ cause, had considerable weight. As a consequence, all communication between Tibet and India was stopped, and “the approach of strangers, even of Bengal and Hindustan, was utterly prohibited.” The Hindu holy men were charged with treachery in acting as spies and guides for the Nepalese, and were forbidden to remain any longer in Shigatse; and “from this period,” continues Turner, “unhappily is to be dated the interruption which has taken place in the regular intercourse between the Company’s possessions and the territory of the Lama.”
It was a sad ending to what had begun so promisingly, and one is tempted to reflect what Warren Hastings would have done if he had still held the reins of government in Bengal, and whether he would have been able to restrain the Gurkhas, to assist the Lamas, and to reassure the Chinese. Certainly it is a most unfortunate circumstance that we so often are unable to help our friends just when they most need our help, and press our friendship upon them just when they least want it.
Thus the results of Warren Hastings’ forethought and careful, steady endeavour were all lost. Yet it must be conceded by the sturdiest advocate of non-interference that those endeavours were not merely statesman-like, but humane. There was never any attempt to aggress. No threats were ever used; no impatience was shown. Warren Hastings, as the representative of a trading company, looked, firstly, to improve trade relations; but as the ruler of many millions of human beings, he knew that trade or any other relationship must be based on mutual good feeling, and he knew that good feeling with a suspicious people can only be established by a very, very slow process. He therefore took each step deliberately, and he strove to secure permanently the advantages of each small step taken; and, having done this, he had some right to expect that when he himself had shown so much restraint and moderation, those who followed after would continue the same deliberate policy.
Unfortunately, as we have seen, the policy of drift and inaction in regard to Tibet set in on Warren Hastings’ departure. The promotion of intercourse had proved a difficult business; and with so much on hand elsewhere in the building up of the Indian Empire, it was perhaps natural that the ordinary Governor-General should let the matter drop.