The Politics of Renaming: Why China Calls Tibet “Xizang”

By Khedroob Thondup

Names matter. They shape how people see a place, its history, and its identity. That is why the Chinese government’s increasing insistence on calling Tibet “Xizang” is not simply a linguistic preference. It is part of a broader political effort to redefine Tibet in ways that align with the Chinese state’s narrative.

For centuries, Tibet has been known to the world as Tibet. Tibetans call their homeland Bod. Yet today, Beijing increasingly promotes the use of “Xizang,” the Chinese term traditionally referring to the Tibet Autonomous Region. Chinese officials and state media now often speak not of Tibet but of “China’s Xizang.”

This shift is not occurring in isolation. Alongside the promotion of “Xizang,” authorities increasingly describe Tibetan Buddhism as a branch of “Chinese Buddhism.” Academic fields that have long been known as Tibetology, Tibetan Studies, or Tibetan Buddhist Studies are under pressure in some Chinese institutions to conform to frameworks centered on “Xizang Studies.”

The objective appears clear: if Tibet can be linguistically recast as Xizang, Tibetan Buddhism as Chinese Buddhism, and Tibetology as Xizang Studies, then Tibet’s distinct historical and cultural identity may gradually be overshadowed by a state-defined Chinese identity.

But there is a fundamental problem with this project.

A people are not transformed simply because they are renamed.

Governments can change maps. They can alter textbooks. They can revise official terminology. They can promote new narratives through media and education. Yet identity is not a label imposed from above. It is rooted in language, culture, memory, religion, and collective experience.

Tibetans remain Tibetans. Their language remains Tibetan. Their religious traditions, literary heritage, and cultural practices did not suddenly become Chinese because new terminology was adopted by state authorities.

The effort to rename can achieve administrative conformity, but it cannot manufacture cultural transformation. A government may insist on a new designation, but that does not automatically erase centuries of history or reshape how a people understand themselves.

This is why the campaign encounters a persistent limitation. While names can influence perception, they cannot fully determine reality. Calling Tibet “Xizang” does not resolve the underlying questions of identity, history, and cultural belonging. Calling Tibetan Buddhism “Chinese Buddhism” does not eliminate its uniquely Tibetan character. Renaming a field of study does not alter the subject being studied.

The result is a cycle that continues without achieving its ultimate objective. New labels are introduced, yet the distinct identity they seek to subsume remains. Administrative power can regulate terminology, but it cannot compel genuine cultural transformation.

There is an old saying that captures this dilemma: changing a name does not change the nature of a thing. A dog cannot become a cat merely because someone calls it one.

China may continue to promote “Xizang” as the preferred term. It may continue to redefine institutions, academic disciplines, and religious traditions. But the enduring reality is that Tibet’s identity does not depend on official terminology. As long as Tibetans continue to see themselves as Tibetans, the effort to remake them through language alone will remain incomplete.

Names have power. But they also have limits. And history repeatedly shows that identities deeply rooted in culture and collective memory cannot simply be renamed out of existence.