NEW DELHI: The Dalai Lama on Wednesday said he was a “hypocrite” all these years as he held spiritual and political responsibilities together in spite of knowing that these two matters should be separate.
The Tibetan spiritual leader, who recently gave up his the political responsibility, said “now I feel I am committed to what I have been saying all these years.”
“Religious and political institutions should be separate but while I was saying this, I combined the two myself until now… So in a way it was being a hypocrite,” he said in a lighter vein at a function at the National Commission for Minorities.
The 76-year-old Tibetan leader said he had served as political head of the Tibetan government for 60 years from the age of 16 to the age of 76 and it is time to claim retirement from this responsibility.
A smiling Dalai Lama said though he has resigned from his political responsibility “but still I am his Holiness Dalai Lama.”
He said being a believer in the theory of re-birth, he felt he should retire to prepare for his next birth.
Recalling an incident of his interaction with a Chinese fellow, the Dalai Lama said he was asked why he called himself a “Chela” (disciple) of India. “I said every part of my body is filled by India thoughts. For 50 years my body was survived by Indian daal,” he said.
A number of visitors to Tenzin Peljor’s blog ask about the present state of democracy within the Tibetan exile community. For example:
Do Tibetan people living in India under the Tibetan Government in Exile have a free democratic society with freedom of worship, freedom of speech and democratic control of their government? What do you think?
Referencing page 444 of Charles Bell’s published portrayal of the previous Dalai Lama (1876-1933), Tenzin Peljor replies:
The Tibetans in Exile are in a transition of changing their system from ‘feudal with democratic elements’ (Charles Bell) to democracy. The main person who is strongly pushing that is HHDL himself, as far as I know he even ‘ordered’ democracy for his people, when there were to many objection in the TGIE. However, as Bell puts it, any change in the Tibetan Society must have [its] right pace and cannot be undertaken too quickly otherwise the Tibetans will be very unhappy. So now the great task to change the system from ‘feudal with democratic elements’ to mere democracy is in [its] first 50 years. Ask yourself how long Europeans needed to change their society from middle age to our modern time system, and how much you can expect perfections in 50 years only.
Similarly, to me, he comments:
If you read Sir Charles Bell you should have noticed that he warned that reforms in the Tibetan community must be implemented carefully and slowly otherwise, Bell says, Tibetans will become very unhappy.
So, the motor of democracy is HHDL and the speed it can be applied depends on the Tibetan community.
Granted, Bell said it would have been unfair to compare early 20th century Tibetans’ state of democracy to that of contemporary Europeans’. By extension, rather than gauging the democratization of the Tibetan exile government based on a Western timetable, why don’t we look to the Tibetan psyche itself for one?
Tibet is perhaps best known for its Tibetan Buddhism. In his book Union of Bliss and Emptiness (p. 56), the Dalai Lama describes the courage of Tantric Bodhisattvas who work for the benefit of all: “The attitude of wishing to bring about such welfare and to place sentient beings in buddhahood is not just a relaxed state of mind, but rather one of great urgency. It is a mind aspiring to achieve enlightenment within one lifetime, and that within the shortest time possible,” which the Dalai Lama says is three to twelve years.
This begs the question: If Tibetan Buddhists are prepared to forsake all of samsara for full enlightenment—within three short years, no less—how do we explain their continued attachment to a samsaric, feudal theocracy headed by the Dalai Lama? The Bodhisattva’s spiritual ideal is embedded into the very hearts and minds of the Tibetan people and is undertaken without reservation, yet the path to democracy is a major stumbling block. And, it cannot be claimed that democracy is a foreign concept to Buddhists, since Buddhists trace back democratic self-government to Buddha Shakyamuni’s first spiritual community.
We can look back over the past 50 years and see whether the Tibetan exile government has met the challenge of democracy: What has changed, and what has stayed the same? This is a big question, so let’s look at how it is answered by Tashi Wangdi, the Dalai Lama’s representative in the Americas:
Q: Professor Venerable Samdhong Rinpoche was elected the head of the Tibetan Administration cabinet—effectively a prime minister of the Central Tibetan Administration, the government-in-exile?
A: Ever since His Holiness held leadership responsibilities at the age of 16 when he was in Tibet, he wanted to bring about social political reforms. He started those reforms in Tibet. Because of the Chinese invasion and the problem thereafter with the occupation, he could not get through the reforms he wanted to implement. Then in 1959, when the situation went beyond a solution and he had to leave Tibet, as soon as he went to India he continued with the reform and promulgated a draft Constitution. A parliament was elected by Tibetans in exile. He then brought about gradual changes for the democratization of the system. The political leadership is now elected. We have had a parliament in existence since 1961 and seven years ago we elected a Prime Minister. His Holiness describes himself as semi-retired.
Q: Retired from administrative functions?
A: Yes. The governing responsibility is now carried out by the elected political leadership.
Q: The Dalai Lama exists as a spiritual leader and essentially a figurehead, similar to Queen Elizabeth?
A: As you know, we are not seeking independence, but it’s more about the future of Tibet.
Interesting how that last question was totally side-stepped. Nevertheless, there are other issues. Of course, the Tibetan Parliament is not a new institution. The pre-diaspora Parliament was described by Bell (p. 165) as an “example of the semi-democratic influence in the Tibetan Government” (which is probably what Tenzin Peljor is referring to with the words “feudal with democratic elements”). Bell (pp. 168-169) describes what follows after the parliamentary proceedings were concluded and a prevailing/unanimous decision was reached by its members:
After the Parliament at length came to a decision they reported it verbally to the Cabinet, who passed it on with their opinion to the Prime Minister, who in turn submitted it to the Dalai Lama. The Parliament kept no written record of their proceedings.
During the two and a half centuries which preceded the late Dalai Lama’s coming of age, the Parliament exercised great power in Tibet. When a Regent is in power during the minority of a Dalai Lama, this Parliament is strong enough to hold the Regent in check, and sometimes even to depose him. Accordingly, during the first years of the Dalai Lama’s rule, his instinct would hold him back from overruling it. In 1910 when His Holiness was still a young man, I asked him what happened when the Parliament and Cabinet disagreed. “In whose favour do you decide?” “It is good,” he replied, “to make the larger number contented.”
But later on he used rather to call together a committee of its leading members, and that with diminishing frequency… “The Parliament goes on talking, talking,” the Dalai Lama would tell me, “and makes great delay in cutting the cord” (deciding). Especially was this so in disputes with other nations, though such disputes, if not settled quickly, caused much ill will on both sides.
Towards the end of his life, however, the Inmost One became increasingly autocratic, and would often disagree with the Parliament’s recommendation. He would himself then give another order, and the matter was finally decided in accordance with this order, none daring to object.
Thus, the pre-diaspora Tibetan government had a Parliament, a Cabinet, as well as a Prime Minister (Tib. Kalon Tripa, or “Chief Kalon”).
Since 2001, after some 40 years in exile, the Prime Minister has indeed been directly elected by the people. The Prime Minister is the head of the Dalai Lama’s Cabinet (Tib. Kashag), yet according to the Article 20 of the Tibetan exile government’s 1991 Constitution, Charter of the Tibetans-in-Exile, the position of the Prime Minister (and the Cabinet in general) is “subordinate to His Holiness the Dalai Lama,” with the Dalai Lama as head of state.
Article 19 states that “The executive power of the Tibetan Administration shall be vested in His Holiness the Dalai Lama, and shall be exercised by Him, either directly or through officers subordinate to Him,” so in effect what does it matter if the Prime Minister is elected by the people if his main responsibility is to carry out the wishes of the Dalai Lama?
Some have championed a so-called “impeachment clause,” perhaps found in Article 31, Section 1b…
The Council of Regency shall exercise executive powers and authority when the Tibetan Assembly, by more than two-thirds of its total members in consultation with the Tibetan Supreme Justice Commission, decides that, in the highest interests of the Tibetan Administration, and the Tibetan people, it is imperative that the executive functions of His Holiness the Dalai Lama shall be exercised by the Council of Regency;
…which puts a Regency into place when the Dalai Lama is no longer head of state. This Regency (not the Prime Minister, by the way) will rule in the Dalai Lama’s stead until the next Dalai Lama attains his majority and becomes the new head of state. This system has actually been in place since the death of the 5th Dalai Lama, with no change in the foreseeable future; again, no innovative democratization there.
The current Tibetan Constitution being merely a “rough draft” applicable only for the government-in-exile, the Dalai Lamas do not expect to fully relinquish political power until their return to Tibet, supposedly solely as a spiritual leader. Until then, it’s business as usual…
Panaji, Feb 7: Tibetan spiritual leader the Dalai Lama Monday said that the 21st century should be known as the century of dialogue.
Speaking here in a Goa government sponsored lecture series, the Tibetan leader also said that this century should convince people that any problem in the world can be resolved by dialogue.
“The 20th century was a century of war and bloodshed. The 21st century must be the century of dialogue. This is the message I am taking to thousands across the world today,” said the Dalai Lama, who won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1989.
“Every problem can be solved by means of dialogue. This is what this century should show everyone,” he said.
“For thousands of years India has been a messenger of ahimsa and religious harmony. This itself is a message to the world,” he said.
The Dalai Lama said that attachment to religion and religious symbols was the root cause of communal disharmony.
“I should not develop too much attachment to Buddhism. If I (do that), I become a fanatic. Too much attachment makes you a fanatic,” the Dalai Lama said.
The Dalai Lama has lived in India since 1959 when he fled Tibet after a failed anti-Communist uprising. His government-in-exile, not recognised by any country, is based in Dharamsala.
Below are two ironic excerpts from Barry Sautman’ss 56-page “Vegetarian between Meals”: The Dalai Lama, War, and Violence, which appeared in the Spring 2010 edition of Positions: East Asia Cultures Critique, a journal that critically examines the histories and cultures of East Asia and Asian America.
Exile leaders term the Dalai Lama “an apostle of peace” and “true protector and savior of humanity.” Western elites tout him as a “peacemaker” and “expert on conflict resolution.” When, however, the Dalai Lama was asked about demands for intervention in Sri Lanka, where a Buddhist government was waging an offensive against Hindu and Muslim Tamil rebels, “he said he did not want to comment on the internal affairs of another country.” Asked how Australian Aborigines should deal with the denial of their rights, he said, “It is a difficult situation. I don’t know.” Asked whether Western powers should bomb Serbia in response to Serb actions in Bosnia, he replied, “Very complicated, very sad. What to do, really I don’t know.” Asked how to solve the Israel-Palestine conflict, he replied, to a crowd’s delight, “The precise answer for this question is, ‘I don’t know.’ ” Asked what can be done about misuse of Buddhism by governments, notably Burma’s, he said “I don’t know. Is the Burmese regime really Buddhist?” Asked about Danish cartoons of the Prophet Muhammad that sparked protests in the Muslim world, the Dalai Lama said “I think tricky question . . . so difficult . . . I remain silent. No comment.” Asked how best to end the war in Iraq and bring peace to the Middle East, he stated, “The best answer for that, I don’t know.” The crowd “applauded his honesty.” Asked “ ‘what can we do to wake up our civilization to . . . global warming, warfare and religious fundamentalism,’ he said ‘the real answer is, I don’t know.’ ” The Dalai Lama may have no ideas about specific conflicts or may not want to alienate patrons, but such statements have not lowered his esteem in the eyes of those constantly told of his peacemaking prowess. A Canadian journalist has noted that “one of the Dalai Lama’s favorite phrases is ‘I don’t know,’ but audiences never seem to believe him.” (pp. 100-101)
…critics of the TGIE [Tibetan Government-in-Exile] and religious dissenters have been assaulted, threatened, or excluded from the émigré polity. A Tibet scholar has noted that “within the exile community there is a continuing streak of political intolerance, especially toward those who have made the slightest perceived criticism of the Dalai Lama, who risk beatings or threats of assassination.” A German scholar has noted that “every criticism that challenges [the Dalai Lama’s] political authority is interpreted as anti-religious,” and a U.S. scholar of Tibetan history has said “accusations of disloyalty to the Dalai Lama remain a weapon in political and personal feuds in Dharamsala.” A leading proindependence activist has stated that “hate campaigns and mob violence” typify Dharamsala politics. A TPIE [Tibetan Parliament-in-Exile] member has averred that “if someone openly criticized his Holiness he would be in a difficult position. I think he would suffer a social boycott, if not be physically beaten up.” In part this is because, as another TPIE member put it, “We do not have any doubt about the Dalai Lama’s decisions. . . . He’s a supreme human being and he is god.” (p. 102)
During the late 1990s a dispute emerged within the Tibetan exile community that illustrates perfectly why Tibetan politics must become fully secularised. A long-standing issue in the Tibetan community has been the worship of the deity Dorje Shugden, considered to be the spirit of a seventeenth-century monk, Tulku Drakpa Gyaltsen, who protects the Gelug sect and its members, particularly from the influence of the Nyingma sect. Worship of this figure is especially popular in eastern Tibet, and the present Dalai Lama prayed to Dorje Shugden for many years. However in 1976 the Dalai Lama announced he was advising against the practice because it was promoting sectarianism, which could potentially damage the Tibetan independence movement. Twenty years later, in 1996, the Dalai Lama went further and announced that members of both government departments and monasteries under the control of the Tibetan exile administration were forbidden from worshipping the spirit because the ‘practice fosters religious intolerance and leads to the degeneration of Buddhism into a cult of spirit worship’. This led to a massive outcry from Shugden supporters, particularly in Britain. The Dalai Lama was accused of religious intolerance and provided an opportunity that was not missed by Beijing, who used the dispute as a further reason to denounce the Dalai Lama. In December 1998 the first secretary of the Chinese embassy in New Delhi was reported to have visited a Tibetan settlement in southern India notorious for its support of Shugden.
Although a report by Amnesty International exonerated the Tibetan government in exile of human rights abuses, the unfortunate fact remains that the Dalai Lama, as political leader of the Tibetans, was at fault in forbidding his officials from partaking in a particular religious practice, however undesirable. The whole Dorje Shugden affair was an illustration of the complexities of the relationships, both religious and political, between the sects in the Tibetan Buddhist tradition. While the Dalai Lama’s stated concern, that worship of the deity threatened the Tibetan struggle, is entirely valid from a political perspective, this was not cause enough to ban it as a religious practice. It was also difficult to justify on the grounds that China would manipulate the issue, though this was extremely likely to happen. Rather, the Dorje Shugden affair was an example of an issue that should have remained completely in the religious arena and should not have been politicised at all. However, given the two concepts remain interwoven in the present Tibetan perception, an issue of religious controversy was seen as a threat to political unity. The Dalai Lama used his political authority to deal with what was and should have remained a purely religious issue. A secular Tibetan state would have guarded against this.
While Gandhi insisted that religion and politics were inseparable, it was not this view that dominated the post-independence Indian state. Congress were resolutely secular, as they recognised that no single religion could be allowed to dominate government, having seen the damange that religio-politics could inflict during Partition. The Dalai Lama, a staunch admirer of Gandhi, should be aware of this. Although it was appropriate for the Gandhian infusion of religion and politics to influence the practical ‘means’ of independence, in other words, satyagraha, Gandhi’s religious ideas did not influence the political thinking of the state-builders of the new India.
Perhaps there is a lesson here for Tibetans: religion may have a place in the practical means of resistance and protest, but it should not play a role in the government in exile, which, it is intended, should form the government of a future Tibet. Although Tibetans inside and outside Tibet may use some form of religious ritual or religious justification in their protest, this does not mean the government in exile should interpret all protest in religious terms. Nor does it mean that religion has to then infuse political life at an institutional level. For true Gandhian techniques to be developed, the Tibetan political process would need to become resolutely secular, while leaving religion to continue to play a role at grass-roots level.
On page 9 of A Great Deception: The Ruling Lamas’ Policies, right after stating the four aims of the book, the authors say that “Achieving these aims depends solely upon whether the present Dalai Lama will accept the four points set out at the conclusion of Chapter 4 of this book,” which are listed on page 40.
No one else besides the Dalai Lama is responsible for achieving the four aims stated in the book; this depends solely upon him. Thus, If we combine the four aims on page 9 with the four points of acceptance on page 40:
1. When the Dalai Lama allows anyone who wishes to practice Dorje Shugden the freedom to do so, this will liberate millions of innocent practitioners of the Buddhist Deity Dorje Shugden and their families from suffering.
2. When the Dalai Lama stops completely the discrimination against Shugden practitioners, this will restore peace and harmony between Shugden and non-Shugden practitioners.
3. When the Dalai Lama allows all Shugden monks and nuns who have been expelled to return to their monasteries and nunneries, and allows them to receive the same material and spiritual rights as non-Shugden practitioners, this will re-establish the common spiritual activities of Shugden and non-Shugden practitioners.
4. When the Dalai Lama writes to Tibetan communities throughout the world that they should apply practically the above three points, this will free Buddhism from political pollution.
If you read #4 carefully, it is basically saying that Tibetan Buddhism will become free of political pollution once the Dalai Lama renounces Lama Policy (i.e., mixing religion with politics in general, government-controlled Buddhism in particular).
When the delusion of Lama Policy is abandoned, its effects will finally cease.
A handful of Dorje Shugden practitioners suggest that the Dalai Lama and Dorje Shugden are in fact “spreading Dharma together” since the Dalai Lama’s ban brings media attention and thereby more and more people are seeing or hearing Dorje Shugden’s name. (Any publicity is good publicity.) Supposedly, there is a “Bigger Picture” at work, which helps to explain away all the suffering the Dalai Lama is causing with his ban on Dorje Shugden, ultimately absolving him of any wrongdoing.
According to this view, the Dalai Lama is “making Dorje Shugden bigger” and, in the end, Dorje Shugden will be glorified for all the world to see, which has been the Dalai Lama’s real intention all along. The whole ordeal is even touted as an epic drama set in motion since the time of the Fifth Dalai Lama, now culminating in our generation. “May you live in interesting times,” goes the Chinese curse.
Those who ascribe to “The Bigger Picture” are going from the assumption that the current Dalai Lama is a holy being who cannot possibly intend harm. Once you work from that assumption—namely, that the Dalai Lama is a manifestation of Avalokiteshvara, the Buddha of Compassion—you automatically get “The Bigger Picture” as the only thing that can make sense of the internal inconsistencies of this view, for example: Why would a Buddha play games with people’s faith?
One adherent of this view tried to link the Dalai Lama’s ban and people’s faith in Dorje Shugden together as cause and effect, saying “The ban seems to coincide with the spread of Dorje Shugden’s practice, keeping it alive in strongholds around the world.” In other words, “The Bigger Picture” claims that the Dalai Lama’s action of banning Dorje Shugden practice is a cause for the flourishing of Dorje Shugden practice because the two events are concurrent.
Let us put this to the test and see whether or not “The Bigger Picture” stands up to logical scrutiny, using syllogistic reasoning. For simplicity, I will use the sentence “Banning Dorje Shugden practice is the cause of it flourishing because the two events are concurrent.” We can see if the reason given (“because the two events are concurrent”) incontrovertibly establishes the claim that “banning Dorje Shugden practice is the cause of it flourishing” by checking it against the three modes of a syllogism:
a) Banning Dorje Shugden practice is one of two concurrent events.
This is true, because the reason does apply to the subject. That is to say, the reason given is indeed relevant to the subject.
b) Whenever two events are concurrent, one is the cause of the other.
Obviously, this general statement is not correct because we can think of many counter examples. In short, correlation does not imply causation.
c) If one event is not the cause of the other, then the two events are not concurrent.
Again, we can think of many counter examples.
Although I can check off on the first mode, the other two modes get big X’s. Therefore, the reason given by proponents of “The Bigger Picture” is simply not conclusive. This “naïve” view—as Kundeling Rinpoche calls it—is still open to much doubt; he also adds that the best way for Dharma to flourish is to put it into practice, not to ban it. Dorje Shugden practitioners who follow reason rather than blind faith, therefore, naturally remain unconvinced.
For Dorje Shugden practitioners, there seem to be two ways of interpreting the Dalai Lama’s actions: “The Bigger Picture” or “A Great Deception.” In science, when there are two competing theories, you can employ a heuristic known as Occam’s razor to help you decide which explanation is more prudent. Occam’s razor says that—all things being equal—the simplest explanation (i.e., the one with the fewest assumptions) is probably the correct one. I think that the Western Shugden Society’s interpretation of events has fewer assumptions than “The Bigger Picture” does. For example, the WSS doesn’t assume from the start that the Dalai Lama is holy (nor evil!), but would judge this according to the Dalai Lama’s own actions.
Then again, there is an oft-repeated line that goes along with “The Bigger Picture,” which proclaims that “We’re not enlightened yet, so let’s not judge.” I consider this to be a moral cop-out, a manifestation of idiot compassion (i.e., compassion without wisdom). The “postponement” (i.e., indecision) that it suggests is always morally paralyzing, and its ‘wisdom’ sword has the dullest blade. In his commentary to Chandrakirti’s Guide to the Middle Way, Geshe Kelsang Gyatso says, “It should not be thought that worldly people are entirely confused; that they realize nothing and therefore can invalidate nothing” (Ocean of Nectar, p. 209).
Besides, this “Let’s not judge” mantra misses the earlier point: an explanation that assumes from the get-go whether someone is enlightened or not is exactly the kind of extraneous fluff that Occam’s razor helps us to do away with. All it does is introduce bias into our discernments.
It is fascinating (and sad) to watch “The Bigger Picture” slowly emerge in the following forum thread on DorjeShugden.com, Unreliability of Nechung at times. In the initial posts, the inconsistencies are described as alarming, contradictory, confusing, surprising, and even shocking. Individual posters who promote “The Bigger Picture” begin to question the Dalai Lama’s reliance upon unenlightened oracle spirits, recalling even that Nechung was incorrect at a crucial time: the Dalai Lama’s escape from Tibet. Suddenly, when Nechung is described as “stirring trouble again,” the Dalai Lama’s reliance upon him is excused as being part of a larger plan. With the words, “I also think Dalai Lama knows this and is using the occasion for something else…” the snowball starts rolling:
* Isn’t Nechung’s time nearing for him to achieve the enlightened state? If that is the case, then it certainly is not some random problem stirring by Nechung but an enlightened act.
* If Nechung is nearing to enlightenment, then all these inconsistent statements could be viewed as an enlightened act as paving the way for the next protector to come forth, whom I believe is Dorje Shugden.
* We must remember it was Nechung who asked Dulzin to arise as an uncommon protector of Dorje Shugden’s teachings. It was Nechung again who reminded Tulku Drakpa Gyeltsen of his promise when he was Dulzin to arise as the protector again.
* So his unlightened predictions to the Dalai Lama may have a hidden enlightened role for a bigger picture.
* … so if he is being inaccurate with predictions – there could be other reasons aside from lack of ability.
* After all, Guru Rinpoche and His Holiness are Buddhas. What Thai monk and the others have said so far is also very logical and follow the ‘flow’ of the predictions.
In this case, it is apparent that the above posters have not yet read about the real reasons why Nechung has become unreliable since the time of the 13th Dalai Lama. This particular instance, however, is symptomatic of the problem with “The Bigger Picture” in general. As one of the active participants on DorjeShugden.com puts it:
Today, I am still in the same mind-set as I was when I heard HHTDL [His Holiness the Dalai Lama] talk about DS [Dorje Shugden] for the first time, a few years ago.
That is:
“He knows better than me what he is doing, I must trust, this is going to be good.”
Never, from past high lamas to present ones, from HHTDL, TR [Trijang Rinpoche] to GKG [Geshe Kelsang Gyatso], never has a high lama done anything harmful. It is not possible, and if it is, then it is impossible again…
When a Tibetan Buddhist monk or nun applies for a passport or identity certificate, they are asked to sign an oath that increasingly every Tibetan Buddhist anywhere in the world is asked to sign.
The oath goes like this: “I consider Dorje Shugden an impostor Deity. And also consider his followers, whether regarding him as a worldly or enlightened Protector, to be non-Buddhists.”
Like millions of other Tibetans, I have signed this oath several times without giving much thought to exactly what Dorje Shugden stands for, or what the technical difference between worldly or enlightened Protector is. I want my passport, and if I have to sign up to a fatwa to get it, so be it.
But like millions of people from my generation I also remember that when I was growing up, the now-minority Dorje Shugden sect were considered great Buddhist scholars and leaders.
Non-Buddhists
Like scores of others I had friends who were Dorje Shugden practitioners. We played soccer together, and sometimes, when our parents ordered us off to the temple, we even prayed side by side.
In Spring 2008, when more than 900 Dorje Shugden monks were expelled from their monasteries, I remembered the precise moment in 1996 when it all began to change.
There were street protests by religious parties against Dorje Shugden practitioners demanding that they should be declared non-Buddhists.
One day I saw some Dalai Lama activists standing outside a clothes merchant’s shop in our town, chanting anti-Shugden slogans and turning customers away, telling them that buying clothes from Shugdenpas was forbidden.
At the time I was learning to memorise the Buddha’s teachings from a very kind, mild-mannered teacher.
I asked him what exactly was wrong with the Shugdenpas.
He explained to me that they didn’t believe that His Holiness the Dalai Lama was the only and final authority.
I said OK, maybe that makes them infidels, but who says that infidels can’t sell cloth?
My teacher’s response was a full-handed slap, so sudden, so unexpected that it rang in my ears for days to come.
That same year the Tibetan Parliament in exile declared Dorje Shugden practitioenrs non-Buddhists.
Then in 2008 the Tibetans’ political dictator and self-appointed guardian of the faith, the Dalai Lama, began a referrendum whose oath we are all required to sign.
Because of the new laws, Dorje Shugden practitioners have been ostracized; access to various jobs, positions, schools, and monasteries in Tibetan exile became impossible without publicly renouncing Dorje Shugden.
Heretic
Over the last three decades the hatred against Shugdenpas has become so widespread that Tibetans are now embarrassed by the man who wrote the Tibetan National Anthem in 1950.
Trijang Rinpoche was the Spiritual Guide (root Guru) of the Dalai Lama, and as a faithful disciple himself, accepted Je Phabongkhapa’s teachings with great respect and appreciation.
But he was a Dorje Shugden practitioner so there is no prayer to celebrate him, no recognition of his role in setting up the Tibetan community in exile.
His name as a lineage Guru on the Lamrim lineage prayer has been erased. Even the fact that he was the Dalai Lama’s chosen root Guru has been substituted with ‘junior tutor’ in an attempt to erase our collective memory.
This hatred was evident in the reactions to the Dalai Lama’s ban on Dorje Shugden.
Declaring his Spiritual Guides “wrong,” the Dalai Lama was obsessed with making sure that Shugden Buddhists were called “spirit worshippers”.
When you refuse to call a Buddhist tradition by its proper name, you are implying that it’s not Buddhism, it’s not a religion, it’s a cult.
And all the various Tibetan Buddhists sects, whose leaders otherwise refuse to work together, are united on this.
Over the last three decades the siege has been so palpable that those Shugdenpas who couldn’t afford to emigrate have taken to hiding their identity.
If you want to destroy someone in public life it’s enough to drop a hint that they are a Shugden practitioner.
Two incidents in the past week made me realise how pathological our response was. At an inter-faith meeting to celebrate the spirit of non-sectarianism, a passer-by asked me “Are you a Shugdenpa?” My own loud and aggressive denial surprised me.
Then a Shugden friend wrote to me saying: “You know we have been living like this for decades. [Did] something like this have to happen for you to speak up?”
The Tibetans prided themselves on what they believed to be a unique tradition, the “combination of religion and politics” (chosi zungdrel). The concept itself goes a long way back in Tibet’s history. However, many other countries still have similar traditions. It was only at the beginning of the 20th century that countries like France and Japan began to have the legislation for the separation of church and state that gave birth to the idea of practicing religion as a personal belief not regulated by the state. The process of secularization has been slow, but it is moving inexorably forward. This state secularism is the modern trend in many countries the world over.
It was startling to see a political meeting that took place in Dharamsala on May 3-4 2008 and broadcast on YouTube. It was attended by the heads of all the Tibetan religious sects and was presided over by HH the Dalai Lama. One of the topics of the discussion was the tulku issue, the reincarnated lamas, but the outcome of the discussion has not been reported. Not a single layman took part in the gathering not to mention any women. One wondered what happened to the famous democratization of the exiled Tibetan community in India.
The separation of church and state does not imply abandoning the practice of the established religion. Far from it, it secures freedom of religious exercise and therefore the right of personal choice whether one wishes to practice a religion or not. Furthermore it establishes the neutrality of the state as far as the religious denominations are concerned. In the case of Tibet there would be no preferential status whether it is the Bon, Nyingma, Sakya, Kagyu or Gelug traditions or even the Tibetan Moslems and Christians. What the “separation” does imply, however, is the government and religious institutions being kept independent from one and another and not combined as in the Tibetan political tradition.
A secular state is therefore neutral when it deals with religion by not supporting or opposing any particular sect nor does it give any preferential treatment for a citizen who belongs to a particular religion.
Buddhism as a state religion
Buddhism became the state religion of Tibet in the reign of the emperor Tri Song Detsen (742-797) and it remained so till the end of the Pugyal Dynasty in 941 AD. During the imperial period the emperors were the supreme heads of the state and the emperors were entirely laymen. The fact that Buddhism was the state religion did not affect the personal choice of faith among its members and in the country. However, the imperial government did subsidize Buddhist establishments such as building temples and contributing to their maintenance and this was considered to be meritorious work.
There were other periods during which time a lay government was in power in Tibet, for example, during the Tsang Desi’s regime (c.1600-1642) which was most remarkable in its attempt to revive the national glory of the lay government of the imperial period.
The beginning of theocracy
However, in 1642 the Tsang Desi’s government was toppled by the combined forces of Tibetans and Mongols at the instigation of the Gelug sect which effectively empowered the Fifth Dalai Lama (1617-1685), as the head of state. He had been, until 1642, merely the abbot of Drepung Monastery. A new era of theocracy was ushered in with the total supremacy of the clergy and the subordination of laymen to it. At the time of the Sakya and Pakmotu administrations from the 13th to the 15th centuries there were of course elements of theocratic development, but from 1642 the Ganden Potrang, the official seat of the government in Drepung Monastery, came to symbolize the supreme power in both the theory and practice of a theocratic government. This was indeed a political triumph that Buddhism had never known in its history in Tibet.
The term “theocracy” is normally defined as a form of government in which a ‘god’ or ‘deity’ is recognized as the supreme ruler. In Tibet’s case the Dalai Lamas are considered as the manifestation of the Buddhist deity of compassion. In this theocratic system the head of the state was not only the political leader of the people, but also their spiritual master. In other words, the whole population was subjected and put in the position of spiritual disciple to the master. Within the context of this essentially religious bond no devotee would ever dream of opposing the view of the master, because that would be tantamount to breaking the sacred relationship between the master and the disciple. How does this fit with the discussion of democracy among the Tibetans in exile for whom HH the Dalai Lama is the political leader, but who nonetheless bestows on them the Kalachakra initiation?
Since the head of the state was a “monk-king” (domtsun gyalpo) the entire manner of raising children was immersed in religious education from a very young age without it ever being realized where this was going to lead. In such a system there was no personal choice of the religion that an individual wished to practice. One became aware of what one was subjected to only when one reached a mature age. In other words the faith was simply imposed by the state. The idea of the right of personal choice of one’s own faith was therefore totally unknown and in modern terms denied. Important and even enlightening as this religious education might be, it had the undesirable effect of barring the entire population from contact with any kind of progressive or modern education over the last three hundred and sixty years. It is no wonder that the outspoken French socialist Minister of Culture, Claude Allègre, once remarked that he had never come across a Tibetan who was a biologist, archeologist, mathematician or physicist.
An incarnate Lama as ruler
The head of the state in Tibet, however, was never meant to be a tulku, a reincarnate lama. This status was inherited incidentally through the Fifth Dalai Lama when he was ushered in as the leader of the country. The irony is that not only he himself was a reincarnate lama, but he also embarked on creating others, for example, the Panchen Lama Lobzang Yeshe (1663-1737), who was recognized as the tulku of Panchen Lama Lobzang Chogyen (1567-1662), in 1667, by the Fifth Dalai Lama. This initiated the rapid increase of the number of tulkus especially in the Gelug sect. Perhaps one does not need to raise the question as to whether this tulku system ever served the national interest of Tibet at all. It is high time for the Tibetans to learn lessons from the checkered history of the tulku system that has caused so much political instability and disunity for Tibet.
In the 20th century alone, national unity completely broke down when one lama was set against the other as the pawns of great powers such as the Manchus, British India, the Russian Empire, the Guomintang government and now the Communist Party of China. In general, throughout the history of Tibet the tulku institution has invariably been the cause of schism, political intrigue and sectarian squabbles. Because of the tulku tradition we have now two Panchen Lamas and two Karmapas. Are we going to have two Dalai Lamas?
Recently the Religious Affairs Department of the Chinese government implemented a new law called “Order no. 5”, containing 14 articles on “Management Measures for the Reincarnation of ‘Living Buddhas’ in Tibetan Buddhism”. The Chinese government’s strict control over tulku recognition further proves how politically vulnerable this system is and to what extent the tulku tradition can be exploited for political ends by an occupying power against the interests of the Tibetan people.
HH the 14th Dalai Lama has already announced that he will have no political role if “genuine autonomy” is established in Tibet. However, I believe that the Dalai Lama institution should be maintained if the majority of the Tibetan people agree upon it. Thus, in a future constitution this one should be the only incarnation in the country, and without any political prerogative. Ganden Monastery would be an ideal residence for the future Dalai Lamas if they wish to be a real “simple monk”.
In the interview given to Euronews (August 11, 2008) HH the 14th Dalai Lama stated, I quote: “The Dalai Lama’s rule is now outdated.” If this is indeed the case, and I believe it to be so. it is desirable for the Tibetan people start to planning for the future with his help. He is the only one who has such long term world-wide experience and whose authority is unrivaled amongst Tibetan leaders. A decisive action is needed to be taken and very urgently. If he wishes he can assist the Tibetans in sorting out the theocratic conundrum in order to finally leave an unambiguous political legacy in the form of a total separation of religion and politics.
Unless and until the Tibetan people come to comprehend the need for the separation of religion and state they will never be able to create a healthy and unified community under a truly democratically elected leader.
They do not need to look far a field for a good example of this. In 2008 Bhutan, the Himalayan kingdom, very successfully introduced a parliamentary democratic system. Although the Kagyu sect is the official religion of state as represented by the Zhung Datsang, this was left aside and did not play any role in the election. Its new constitution states “It shall be the responsibility of religious institutions and personalities to promote the spiritual heritage of the country while also ensuring that religion remains separate from politics in Bhutan.” (article 3.3, www.judiciary.gov.bt)
Of course it appears inconceivable or even sacrilegious to break the taboo on the separation of religion and state for the Tibetans, but we can no longer hide our heads in the sand.
Secularism, sectarianism
In an interview given in Tokyo, April 2008, HH the Dalai Lama stated that he favoured in fact “secularism”. The reason he gave was that “secularism” has no room for “sectarianism”. Indeed Tibetan Buddhism has often been plagued by sectarian strife and this is still continuing in spite of HH the Dalai Lama’s strenuous efforts to discourage and condemn it. It is precisely because of sectarianism that he has himself abandoned the cult of the deity Shugden, as well as forbidding it in all religious institutions in the exiled community. The main reason for forsaking this cult is that it engenders a sense of the superiority on the part of the Geluk clergy and it acts as an anathema to the other sects. It is not only a question of spirit-worship as people tend to claim when explaining why the cult has been forbidden.
A secularization of the exiled community should contribute towards solving the unending sectarian problems and lead to true unity amongst the Tibetan people, without any further religious interference in the political domain.
The writer is Director of Research emeritus, National Centre of Scientific Research (CNRS), Paris
