This is China's year, the year of the rat, which symbolizes strength and endurance in the Chinese lunar calendar. 2008 is a very special year in China. It is a watershed year, a landmark year and a year the Chinese have been looking forward to for a long time. It is the year that China, as planned by its political leaders, has moved to the center of global interest.

But in the past few, dramatic weeks, the People's Republic has entered the international spotlight under completely different circumstances than the Communist Party strategists in Beijing had planned. China is undoubtedly at the center of world interest, but mostly because it has become the target of severe international criticism. Should the Olympic Games, or at least the opening ceremony, be boycotted? What do the bloody events in Tibet say about the People's Republic of China as a "partner" and about the chances of integrating it into the international community of democracies? And is there a suitable response for German politicians to take, a middle road between a counterproductive display of strength ("Impose an economic boycott") and moral cowardice ("Spare Beijing's feelings")?

The Chinese Communist Party had carefully organized the sequence of events down to the very last detail: a jubilant People's Congress in March, the triumphant arrival of the Olympic flame and, on Aug. 8, the gala opening ceremony of the Summer Olympics, with the key Western politicians in attendance. China's aim was to play the glamorous host, and it was intent on all of its guests marveling at the impressive Olympic facilities and admiring Beijing as a new international metropolis. Its plan was to present a manifestation of political power, reinforced, to the greatest extent possible, by athletic triumphs and a strong showing in the gold medal count. Look at us, China hoped to say, "we are back in the fold of the world's most important and modern nations, and we have moved up alongside the United States as a new world power. We are even the world's leader in some areas."

The Central Committee planners had thought of so many things in their campaigns to promote civility ("wenming"), even instructing Beijing residents to give up their habit of spitting in public and police officers to wave more pleasantly. But there was one thing the political calligraphers, in their obsession with detail, had ignored: the big picture. They had apparently believed it impossible that their own people, or rather, one of the "national minorities," would rise up against them. The regime has forcefully subjugated its minorities over the course of history and believed them, by virtue of material concessions, to have been pacified long ago. But they failed to realize that the vast majority of Tibetans are more interested in religious freedom than improving their standard of living; that they feel increasingly like strangers in their own homeland, robbed of their cultural identity; and that they are prepared to risk their livelihoods for their spiritual and political leader, who has been living in exile for the past 49 years.

The current situation also brings to light a misunderstanding to which many in the West succumbed, especially those who did business with Beijing's pragmatic and economically cosmopolitan rulers in recent years. But during the days of the crisis, China's leadership demonstrated that it is everything but an enlightened power that brings order to the region, rules with political means and cares about world opinion. Instead, the Communist Party bosses crushed the peaceful demonstrations of monks -- and later the violent demonstrations of angry youth -- with yesterday's tools of power. Their implements of choice included tanks and handcuffs, a news blackout and a slanderous campaign against the Dalai Lama reminiscent of the worst days of the Cultural Revolution. In the words of the head of the Communist Party in the so-called Tibet Autonomous Region, the Tibetan leader and winner of the Nobel Peace Prize, along with his "clique," is a "wolf in monk's robes, a devil with a human face" and was responsible for everything that happened in Tibet.

China has suffered a "relapse" many had believed was no longer possible, a relapse that is perhaps more normal than not for a leadership that is obsessed with a fear of national disintegration and has now destroyed any illusions. On its face, China has changed dramatically. Its cities seem more modern even than some cities in the West. But in its interior and at the core of its being, the People's Republic -- whenever it feels existentially threatened by chaos -- is still a police state. The Communist Party does not see its citizens as politically mature equals, but only as subjects. A straight and, unfortunately, unbroken line leads from the 1989 Tiananmen Square massacre to today's reality.

One of Beijing's current, and preposterous, pronouncements is that China is proud of the way it "dealt with" the problem of rebellious Tibetans. But if there is one thing that the People's Republic can be proud of it is this: In no other country on earth have so many people risen out of extreme poverty in such a relatively short time -- close to 250 million people in about 30 years. Despite China's growing problems, economic growth, which has averaged about 10 percent a year since the early 1980s, is still breathtaking, and the world benefits from the entrepreneurial spirit and investment activity of the Chinese. Those who do not "interfere" in politics enjoy relatively generous opportunities to acquire wealth.

A PR Disaster for Beijing

Nothing makes the Chinese as self-confident -- and rightly so -- as the fact that they have shaken off the yoke of foreign domination and, thanks to their own efforts, have become a major power once again. But it is an irony that apparently escapes party leaders that they themselves are now in the process of becoming an international pariah because of China's role as a colonial power in Tibet. Meanwhile, the Communist Party continues to entangle itself in further, outlandish contradictions. On the one hand, it claims that the Tibetans have forgotten the 14th Dalai Lama and that he is an irrelevant factor in the power structure. On the other hand, it paints a greatly exaggerated picture of him as an important enemy, as a "divider of the nation" and as the inciter of the unrest in Tibet. The Communist Party calls traditional Tibetan culture backward, and yet it insists that Tibet has always been an integral part of the Han Chinese empire.

Beijing's leadership either fails to recognize or chooses to ignore the dangers of its policy. The Communist Party leaders foment hatred, not just within the "minority" on the rooftop of the world, with their one-sided accusations against the Tibetans and against the Western media as their supposedly malicious collaborators. They unleash almost unbridled chauvinism among the Han Chinese, who make up about 92 percent of China's population of 1.3 billion. Party leaders have already played with fire twice: during the Kosovo war in 1999, when American NATO troops bombed the Chinese embassy in Belgrade, they unleashed angry nationalists; a similar situation developed in 2005, when Japan sought to downplay its wartime massacres of the Chinese in new schoolbooks. In both cases, the police tried to keep the protests under control, but failed. The numbers of demonstrators grew quickly, and the whipped-up crowds smashed windows and upended cars. The authorities managed to restore order, but with difficulty. Does Beijing's leadership want to risk similar riots leading up to the Olympics? And how does it expect to put the nationalistic genie back in the bottle once it has been released?

Beijing is already in the midst of a PR disaster. Perhaps the Communist Party leaders could not have anticipated the vehemence of the Tibetan protests, but they must have known that the international community would focus on the human rights situation in China ahead of the games. This is why it is so incomprehensible that the Chinese leadership, which had expressly promised the International Olympic Committee the "improvement of the human rights situation" when Beijing submitted its bid for the 2008 Summer Olympics, reacted to the protests with such brutality and obvious lack of preparation.

The party is now paying for the fact that it is hardly ever confronted with a critical public -- and one that could have warned it of risks. It apparently failed to understand that today's world -- in contrast to the world in 1936, when Nazi Germany hosted the games in Berlin, and even the world of the 1989 Tiananmen Square massacre -- is shaped by the media. Beijing has already lost the fight for the images that determine whether hearts and minds will be won. The PR professionals working for Tibetan aid societies and international human rights groups have literally put China's leadership on display. They have skillfully pulled out all the stops when it comes to nonviolent resistance, demonstratively unfurling their banners on the Great Wall of China and even applying for IOC approval of a Tibetan Olympic team. Thanks to their protests, the torch relay around the world will likely become more like the running of the gauntlet for China.

Should we gloat over the humiliation of the People's Republic, as it burns its fingers on the Olympic flame? Should we secretly rejoice over the fact that Beijing's leaders have only themselves to blame for returning China to the group of pariah nations, or even antagonize them with an Olympic boycott, possibly even tied to economic sanctions?

This would be entirely the wrong approach. German politicians ought to do everything in their power to strengthen the voices of reason in China and support the faction in the Politburo -- apparently still a minority -- intent on de-escalation. This cannot be achieved through chest-beating and crowing. Anyone considering an economic boycott against China is naïve. Beijing's ability to use its billions in investments in German corporations and US treasury bonds as a retaliatory tool and destroy Western economies with irrational reactions is more potent than any actions the West could take.

Anyone who wishes to boycott Chinese toys should know that in addition to making his own children unhappy (80 percent of high-tech toys, for example, are made in the People's Republic), he would be depriving millions of workers of their jobs -- with unforeseeable consequences.

Instead, what is needed is the lever that allows Beijing to abandon its repressive policies and its demonization of minorities, and to enter into negotiations with the Dalai Lama. In light of the most recent violence in his native Tibet, the spiritual and political leader of the Tibetans has also advised against an Olympic boycott. Everything should be done to strengthen his position against his detractors in the People's Republic and with the radicalizing youth within his own ranks. The Dalai Lama is not only the Tibetans' best hope, but also that of the Chinese. Instead of a divider of the nation, as the Communist Party insinuates, he is a peacemaker willing to approach the limits of compromise.

The End of Sycophancy

In an interview with SPIEGEL, the Dalai Lama has already outlined his view of a possible solution to the conflict. "Give us true autonomy! Defense, foreign policy and economic strategy can remain the responsibility of the central government," His Holiness said. If this happens, he said, there would "no further conflicts" surrounding him. He would transfer his "historic authority" to the local government in Lhasa and restrict himself to spiritual duties as a "simple monk." China's leaders will never get a better deal, especially not if the 14th Dalai Lama, who is now 72, dies and, possibly, decrees that there is to be no rebirth or that it should only occur in exile. For Beijing, the alternative is a policy of repression leading to recurring unrest, which could inflame other dissatisfied ethnic groups.

The German government and the public could help bring this vision closer to reality -- not with overwrought opposition, but with small, deliberate steps. For more than eight years now, the German government has conducted a "Constitutional State Dialogue" with the Chinese. Beijing is very interested in this program, because it includes seminars on matters of judicial administration, patent and labor law. During upcoming negotiations in Munich in late April, German Justice Minister Brigitte Zypries should make a continuation of the dialogue dependent on human rights and minority issues becoming a focus of the talks, and on German members of parliament and journalists being allowed to travel freely in Tibet to gain an unbiased impression of the situation. The Dalai Lama is coming to Germany in mid-May for a private lecture series, but an appointment in Berlin is not on the agenda. The German president should change this and invite the Dalai Lama to a meeting at his official residence -- a gesture of solidarity and sovereignty.

As far as the games in Beijing are concerned: Please, no German politicians, not anywhere. And the athletes should be assured that civil courage and political expressions of opinion are more important than the muzzle demanded by IOC officials and defined in the organization's statutes a few days ago -- even if it costs them their medals. The time of sycophancy must come to an end if the Olympic idea is to be saved.

Erich Follath is a SPIEGEL editor and the author of the current biography of the Dalai Lama, "The Legacy of the Dalai Lama."

Translated from the German by Christopher Sultan