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  • Saturday Wrap, from The Week
    Reeves' bounce back, Tibetan succession plans, and brothers reunited

     
    controversy of the week

    Reeves' tax dilemma

    Rachel Reeves' tears in the Commons last week have not harmed her politically, said Archie Mitchell in The Independent. Quite the opposite, in fact. The panicked response of the financial markets to the very idea of the chancellor being replaced has left her position looking stronger than ever. Keir Starmer has since effectively bound his fate to hers, insisting that she'll be in post for years. But while it's good news on the job security front, the challenges facing Reeves are more daunting than ever. The forced U-turn over benefit cuts that no doubt added to the chancellor's distress have left her with a £5 billion hole to fill this autumn in her second Budget. Factor in other commitments and lower-than-expected growth forecasts, and she will need to find an extra £20 billion or more, said Tony Diver in The Telegraph. And to keep her manifesto promises, she'll need to do that without borrowing more or raising any of the "big three" taxes – VAT, National Insurance and income tax. Is that even "mathematically possible"?

    There are various routes by which Reeves could seek to plug the gap, said Richard Partington in The Guardian. One relatively painless option would be to extend the freeze on personal tax thresholds beyond 2028, dragging more people into higher brackets. Or she could "dust off" the memo Deputy PM Angela Rayner sent her in the spring, which suggested a series of wealth taxes, such as scrapping the dividend tax-free allowance. The left is pushing hard for this option, said The Times. Lord Kinnock is advocating a 2% tax on assets above £10 million, which he claims would raise as much as £11 billion a year. You can see the attraction of such policies, said Andrew Neil in the Daily Mail. Since the 2008 financial crisis, the rich have got richer while the wage levels of everyone else have stagnated, so it seems fair to charge the rich more. The problem is, history shows that wealth taxes don't work. Of the 12 rich nations that had a wealth tax in 1990, all but three have scrapped them.

    Wealth taxes are a waste of time, said Hugo Gye in The i Paper. The mega-rich are good at moving their money around, and few of them like watching "their stock of capital get annually depleted". If the government isn't prepared to cut spending and can't turbocharge economic growth, the only realistic long-term option is to raise taxes on the population as a whole through one of the big three taxes. The average worker in Britain is not actually taxed very much by European standards, said Will Dunn in The New Statesman. Our tax system relies heavily on the better-paid (the top 10% of earners pay 60% of income tax). We need to stop tweaking rules and dreaming up wealth taxes and just put up income tax. "The choice before us is becoming ever more obvious: between permanent political crisis and what would be, for any other European country, a normal level of tax."

     
     
    BRIEFINg

    The battle over the next Dalai Lama

    Tibet's exiled spiritual leader has just turned 90, and he has been clarifying his reincarnation plans

    What are the Dalai Lama's plans?
    On Sunday, Tenzin Gyatso, the Dalai Lama, celebrated his 90th birthday. He has long said that at this point he would make a decision about his succession plans: according to Tibetan Buddhist belief, the Dalai Lama can choose how to be reincarnated. In the past, he has made a range of suggestions: that he might "emanate" to another person while still alive; or even that the role might die with him. But last week, he declared from his base in Dharamshala, in northern India, that he expects to reincarnate into a new body after his death. His trust, the Gaden Phodrang Foundation, will designate his successor, he said in a video message, and he stressed that "no one else has any such authority to interfere". This was a clear reference to the Chinese Communist Party (CCP), which, though ideologically committed to atheism, claims the right to select the Dalai Lama's next reincarnation.

    What exactly is the Dalai Lama's role?
    He is believed to be the reincarnation of Avalokiteshvara, the bodhisattva of compassion – a person who is able to reach nirvana, the end of the cycle of death and rebirth, but delays doing so through compassion for other suffering beings. The current Dalai Lama is the 14th reincarnation in a line founded in the 15th century by Gedun Drupa, an abbot in southern Tibet. The Dalai Lamas – the title means the "ocean teacher" – were not just the leaders of the leading Gelugpa sect of Tibetan Buddhism, but also, from the fifth Dalai Lama on, the feudal rulers of Tibet. The current Dalai Lama, who was born in 1935, assumed full political power in 1950. The same year, Mao Zedong's People's Liberation Army invaded Tibet (which had been a Chinese protectorate until 1912, when it gained independence with the collapse of the Qing dynasty). After years of negotiation with the Chinese authorities – he travelled to Beijing in 1954, where Mao told him that "religion is poison" – the Dalai Lama fled to India in 1959, while an uprising was being brutally put down by the Chinese.

    What has he achieved as a political leader?
    He established a government-in-exile in Dharamshala, leading a diaspora, estimated in 2009 at 150,000, mostly in India, Nepal and Bhutan, where it has built schools, monasteries and cultural centres, preserving Tibetan language, religion and heritage. Initially, the Dalai Lama pushed for Tibet's full independence, but since the 1970s he has adopted the "Middle Way Approach": accepting Chinese sovereignty but seeking autonomy for Tibet within China. The Chinese authorities have conceded very little. However, the Dalai Lama established himself as a global advocate for his cause, and a beacon of moral leadership and non-violent activism. In 1989, months after the Tiananmen Square massacre, he won the Nobel Peace Prize – to China's fury. In 2011, he ceded political authority of Tibet's government-in-exile to democratically elected leaders, but he continues to lead spiritually.

    How is the succession process conducted? 
    The search for a Dalai Lama's reincarnation begins only upon the incumbent's death, and it can take several years. After the 13th Dalai Lama died in 1933, senior lamas observed mystical indicators – the head of the embalmed Dalai Lama turned to point northeast, and one monk had visions at the sacred Lhamo La-tso Lake of a house in a particular village. Following these clues, disguised lamas travelled towards Amdo in northeastern Tibet (now Qinghai) and found the young Tenzin Gyatso, son of a poor but devout farmer. They presented him with personal items belonging to the 13th Dalai Lama, such as rosary beads and prayer drums. He correctly identified them, saying, "It's mine, it's mine." He was enthroned in Lhasa in 1940.

    How will it be different this time?
    In his writings, the Dalai Lama had suggested that his successor would be born in the "free world" – i.e. outside Chinese territory. If it does take place outside Tibet, the reincarnation process will have to be conducted without many of the traditional rituals. And there will almost certainly be two rival candidates. The Chinese regard the Dalai Lama as a major impediment in their efforts to impose full control over Tibet, and Chinese religious affairs regulations now require government approval for any high lama's reincarnation; they must be born in Chinese territory, and selected using the Golden Urn lottery, a system imposed by the Qing dynasty to impose imperial oversight over the process, which involves withdrawing names from an urn in the Jokhang Temple in Lhasa. All of this happened in the case of the Panchen Lama, a position of spiritual authority second only to the Dalai Lama.

    What happened to the Panchen Lama? 
    The 10th Panchen Lama died in 1989, shortly after criticising Chinese rule. In 1995, the Dalai Lama recognised Gedhun Choekyi Nyima, a six-year-old boy from Lhari in eastern Tibet, as the 11th Panchen Lama. Three days later, the boy and his family were taken into custody by Chinese authorities. He has not been seen publicly since – and has been dubbed the "world's youngest political prisoner". Beijing then installed its own candidate, Gyaincain Norbu, the son of CCP members, using the Golden Urn ritual. He is not, though, recognised by most Tibetans.

    How will the issue be resolved?
    There is likely to be a global divide. China will push its line hard: no British PM has even met the Dalai Lama since David Cameron did so in 2012, causing a diplomatic rift. But the US may push back. In 2020, the US Congress passed a law stating that only Tibetans have the right to choose the Dalai Lama, and threatening sanctions on Chinese officials who interfere in the process. In 2023, the Dalai Lama recognised a boy as a reincarnation of the Bogd, the third most senior Tibetan lama: he was a Mongolian, who conveniently also had a US passport.

    Tibet under Chinese rule
    Following the rebellion of 1959, Tibet was very harshly brought under Beijing's control: at least 200,000 died during the Great Leap Forward, and some 6,000 Tibetan monasteries were destroyed during the Cultural Revolution. Tibet was given strictly limited regional autonomy in 1984, and political and economic liberalisation followed – a process sharply reversed at the end of the decade after the Tiananmen protests. The pattern was repeated in this century. First, major investments were made in Tibetan infrastructure, healthcare and education. Then, in 2008, there was another period of unrest led by monks and nuns – including a series of self-immolations – as well as anti-Chinese riots. Security forces crushed the unrest, and launched patriotic education and anti-"splittist" efforts.

    In the Xi Jinping era, Beijing has aggressively pushed "Sinicisation": pupils are taught in Mandarin, not Tibetan, rural Tibetans have been relocated into cities, and the migration of Han Chinese has been promoted. The CCP says 12% of the population of three million are Han: this figure is disputed. Religion is closely "managed". Monks are monitored by "democratic management committees" and must support party policy. Images of the Dalai Lama are banned.

     
     

    Spirit of the age

    Airline pilots are jeopardising public safety by taking selfies and videos in the cockpit to post on social media, a report has warned. According to Ifalpa, an international pilots' federation, there have been a number of cases where mobile phones have proved a distraction from flight-deck duties, affecting safety. In one case, a camera became jammed against flight controls, causing the plane to descend rapidly.

     
     
    Viewpoint

    AI brain

    "As AI is getting smarter, young college grads may be getting dumber. They can regurgitate information and ideas, but struggle to come up with novel insights or analyse issues from different directions. They don't learn how to think through, express or defend ideas, how to construct arguments and anticipate rebuttals. Young brains need to be stimulated. Instead, they offload these cognitive challenges to AI, which turns out essays, professors complain, of 'machinic blandness', with 'seemingly logical statements that are actually full of emptiness'. A depressing thought is that students are incapable of discerning such intellectual vapour because their heads are empty."

    Allysia Finley in The Wall Street Journal

     
     
    talking point

    Oasis reunited: definitely maybe a triumph

    It was the reunion many fans feared would never happen. Last Friday, 16 years after they'd last performed together, Noel and Liam Gallagher strode on to the stage at Cardiff's Principality Stadium – and brought the house down, said Mark Beaumont in The Independent. A huge multi-generational crowd in bucket hats swayed, sang and hurled beer as Oasis tore through a roster of their biggest hits. Yet for the two million people who'd endured long queues and dynamic pricing to buy tickets for this tour, joining in a singalong to "Wonderwall", and seeing the Gallaghers, now 58 and 52, reunited (for a reported £50 million each) was only part of the attraction: they had also wanted to feel what it was like to "be there then". Because it is not only 50-somethings who are nostalgic for the Britpop era: for millennials and Gen-Zers too it is "as halcyon as Beatlemania or the Summer of Love – a time of vivid colour, jubilant melody, political stability and affordable flats".

    It's not the case that Britpop depended on Oasis, said Dorian Lynskey in The Guardian. Blur and Suede had chart hits long before Liam's snarling vocals were heard on "Supersonic" in 1994, the first of Oasis's 26 top-40 UK hits. From the Young British Artists and Kate Moss, to Euro 96 and "Trainspotting", the era's "colour was turned up with or without them". What set them apart was that, where other Britpop bands ran from it, they actually sought mass appeal. Tapping into a "communal, aspirational hedonism that suited the times", they aimed not to be interesting, but to be popular.

    Not everyone was "mad for it", said Chas Newkey-Burden in The Spectator. The brothers, Liam in particular, were laddish and boorish; their fans were often no better; and Noel's songs shamelessly ripped off everyone from T. Rex to Status Quo. His lyrics are basic, with their roads that are winding and lights that are blinding, and he has said that few of his songs have real meaning; they just evoke a feeling. In that respect, they are a bit like the cocaine he and Liam were always snorting – they make you feel amazing, then it's over "and you feel soulless and empty". But maybe it is precisely because they sound so familiar that Oasis' ripped-off tunes are so potent; perhaps it's great to feel on top of the world, even if just for a moment. Oasis weren't innovators, said Neil McCormick in The Telegraph, but they did do something remarkable, which was to bring melody to hard rock: they were like The Beatles but with "the power of Led Zeppelin" and "the swagger of the Rolling Stones", and it made them the outstanding rock band of the age.

     
     

    It wasn't all bad

    In the 20 years since the 7/7 attacks, thousands of lives have been changed for the better thanks to projects launched in memory of the victims of the atrocity. In northeastern India, for instance, the family of Miriam Hyman used their compensation payments to fund an eye clinic that now sees 3,000 children a month. Fiona Stevenson's relations set up a charity in Belize that has taught numerous children to swim. And in Cumbria, Helen Jones' family and employers facilitated the opening of a new children's unit at the Eden Valley Hospice.

     
     
    people

    Damon Hill on his father

    When Damon Hill was growing up, the fear of a lethal accident befalling his father – two-time Formula 1 world champion Graham Hill – hung heavily over the family. The "call" they dreaded never came during Graham's racing career, said Tom Cary in The Telegraph. But in November 1975, six months after he'd retired, he was flying his light aircraft from France back to Hertfordshire with five passengers on board when it crashed in fog; all six people on board were killed. Damon, who was 15 at the time, saw the news on TV, and it fell to him to break it to his mother. "She got hysterical," he recalls – "she just started screaming and getting very cross, saying, 'I knew it was too good to be true.'" That day changed everything: the family went from living the "high life" to having to sell their home. It also led, eventually, to Damon taking up racing himself, and becoming an F1 world champion like his father.

    His was one of the sport's most emotional title victories ever; but it didn't give him the closure he'd longed for. Years of depression and therapy followed; even now, 26 years after his own retirement from F1, he suffers panic attacks. "My mum had it too," he says. "She was on edge her whole life. Because she had been waiting for that call her whole life. All her friends got 'the call', you know? Her friends whose husbands died [in motor racing accidents], they'd all got 'the call'. And then Dad retires. She thinks she's in the clear. Her guard is down. And then… 'Oh, here's the call.' So I've lived with that anxiety, that bolt out of the blue."

     
     

    Image credits, from top: Christopher Furlong / Getty Images; Elke Scholiers / Getty Images; Gareth Cattermole / Getty Images; Euan Cherry / Getty Images
     

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