The Dalai Lama’s stance on Tibet’s political reality is framed through what he calls the “Middle Way” approach, which consciously turns away from demands for full independence. Rather than seeking to “drive the Chinese out of Tibet,” he advocates “genuine autonomy” for Tibet within the People’s Republic of China, a form of meaningful self-governance that would allow Tibetan civilization to flourish while respecting China’s territorial integrity. This vision centers on the protection of Tibetan language, religion, culture, and environment, and on the creation of conditions in which Tibetans can guide their own social and cultural development. In this sense, his position is neither one of resignation nor of maximalist nationalism, but of a carefully calibrated search for a “win–win” arrangement for both Tibetans and Chinese.

At the same time, he speaks candidly of the suffering and constraints experienced by Tibetans under current policies. He has consistently criticized the Chinese government’s record in Tibet, especially restrictions on religious freedom, cultural expression, and political participation, and the broader pattern of human rights abuses. Yet he takes care to distinguish between the actions of the Communist Party leadership and the Chinese people as a whole, urging Tibetans not to harbor hatred toward ordinary Chinese. This ethical distinction reflects a spiritual discipline that refuses to let political grievance harden into enmity toward entire populations.

Central to his vision is an unwavering commitment to nonviolence and dialogue as the only legitimate path forward. He rejects armed struggle and calls instead for peaceful negotiations between his representatives and Beijing, grounded in mutual respect and a sincere search for common benefit. Within this framework, he has even expressed willingness to visit Tibet and China if such a visit could serve constructive dialogue, though political tensions have thus far prevented this. The aspiration is that through sustained conversation, rather than confrontation, Tibet might one day become a zone of peace, with reduced military presence and genuine space for religious and cultural life.

In recent years he has also stepped back from formal political leadership, transferring political authority to an elected Tibetan administration in exile and presenting himself primarily as a spiritual guide. Yet his moral voice continues to shape the Tibetan struggle, not through calls for radical rupture, but through an insistence that authentic autonomy, cultural preservation, and nonviolent engagement are not mutually exclusive. His perspective suggests that even under conditions of profound constraint, a path of principled compromise and compassionate realism remains open, holding together the longing for justice with a deep refusal to demonize the other.