Fearless in Tibet: The Life of the Mystic Terton Sogyal (16 page)

The reconnection of the Dalai Lama with Padmasambhava’s emissary in Tertön Sogyal was significant not only for the Tibetan leader’s spiritual advancement, but also for Tibet’s defense. Geopolitical tensions in the 1800s were squeezing Tibet. And with the specter of armed conflict hovering on the eve of Tertön Sogyal’s arrival, his presence could not have been more opportune.

Since the early 1800s, Tibet watched British India progressively gain control over Nepal, Kashmir, Ladakh, and Sikkim, and now in 1888, the British had their sights set not only on Bhutan but the entire Tibetan Plateau. The British had previously sent spies disguised as pilgrims to Tibet to map the region, hiding cartography instruments, sketches, and notes in amulet boxes and hand-spun prayer wheels. They wanted to control the lucrative trade route between China and India through Tibet. Britain had already signed various trade compacts with China and was treating Tibet as a soon-to-be colonial spoil. Additionally, the Qing’s representative in Lhasa was a constant thorn in the side of the Tibetan government because Peking saw their representative as an extension of their dynastic rule. Farther away, but significant to this geopolitical tension, Tsarist Russia had notions of incorporating Tibet as a protectorate, just as they had done in Mongolia. While the British and Russians were vying for clandestine information about each other’s intentions in Tibet, and at the same time trying to influence the Tibetan government and the Dalai Lama, Tibet maintained its long-held isolationist policy.

By 1883, the Tibetan government’s Council of Ministers had banned all foreigners from central Tibet. Four years later, in 1887, when the Tibetan army sent a small detachment to inspect the British trading outpost near the Sikkim border, the British threatened retaliation. The threat prompted the Tibetan government to conscript able-bodied men into the military, and the Dalai Lama and Regent Demo called for prayers at the three monastic universities of Lhasa. Additionally, yogis like Tertön Sogyal and a group from Rebkong in the far northeastern region of Tibet, who were in Lhasa, were called upon to conduct tantric rituals to defend Tibet’s borders. Tertön Sogyal started his own rituals and directed his mantras to the battle just as military skirmishes were beginning with the British.

While staying a few weeks in the Potala Palace, working in the Great Fifth Dalai Lama’s sleeping chambers called Blissful Abode of Amitabha, Tertön Sogyal deciphered terma teachings and wrote them on the finest handmade paper he had ever used. Then he moved to a room on the roof of the Jokhang Temple in the center of town. With its population of 50,000 and a constant stream of pilgrims and nomads, Nepali craftsmen, Chinese and Indian merchants, and Silk Road wanderers from as far away as Iran and Russia, Lhasa was the most cosmopolitan city Tertön Sogyal had ever seen. The bazaar was full of tools, ceramics and pans, and silk and tea, all from China. From India, tobacco, saffron, sugar candy, dates, shells, coral, and amber stocked the market. Wool, felt, hides, medicinal herbs, musk, and salt were being sorted and packed to take eastward to China by camel and horse caravans.

Tertön Sogyal had little interest in the marketplace or in the ways of the aristocrats; instead, he immediately embarked on religious activity to strengthen the Tibetan nation. Monks from the Dalai Lama’s personal chapel of Namgyal were dispatched to support the tertön. With the monks seated in facing rows and Tertön Sogyal presiding on a throne, thunderous chants rolled out of the temples that Padmasambhava had himself first consecrated, and offerings and incense were presented in abundance. The phurba dagger was brandished in rituals to destroy evil in whatever form it manifested. The Medium of the State Oracle also joined in, at times becoming possessed and thrashing about, issuing prophecies and directives to protect the Dalai Lama’s life. These rituals lasted for weeks.

The Tibetan forces suffered losses during the six-month battle, though the British were still unable to march on Lhasa because of the yogis’ protective shield and the Tibetans’ collective storehouse of positive merit. But, if Tibet’s reservoir of positive karma had somehow held back the British during this siege, it was being quickly evaporated back in Lhasa, where sectarian rivalries proliferated among the various schools of Tibetan Buddhism.

Padmasambhava told Tertön Sogyal in a vision, “In these degenerate times, when evil forces are strong, obstacles will come like unending waves. In actuality, the negative forces will come from within your own ranks and seek to destroy you. There will be a time when students receive teachings, even placing their guru’s feet upon their crown, and then backbite their teacher straightaway.” Another prophecy told Tertön Sogyal, “The evil beings whose minds have been tormented by the damsi demon will have smiling faces but a black heart and skill in double-speak. Toward the Dharma they have small minds, but they are clever in doing wrong. They have no wisdom but are quick in pointing out the faults of others. They always have negative thoughts. Whoever is more refined, they want to belittle; and toward whomever they are equal, they have strong jealousy. And the less fortunate, they will disparage. The samaya commitments between gurus and disciples will not be maintained. And, no matter how strong the power of prayer is, the results will be slow to come.”

Tertön Sogyal saw these kinds of prophecies playing out in the overarching conservative attitude pervasive among the influential Gelug lamas and government officials in the Potala Palace and large monasteries. The conservative elements had strong misgivings about the Dalai Lama’s personal relationship with an idiosyncratic, mystical tantric yogi like Tertön Sogyal and others from the Nyingma tradition. While many Lhasa lamas bowed before the Dalai Lama, they whispered to one another that the Tibetan leader was wrong to associate with Tertön Sogyal. Given that Tertön Sogyal and other yogis like him had no direct connection with any particular monastery in Lhasa, and that they questioned the status quo, their presence in Lhasa was perceived by many as a challenge to the monastic hierarchy.

The Dalai Lama and Regent Demo became aware that there were some in the Tibetan government and aristocracy who objected to Tertön Sogyal. Regent Demo knew that some monks had even employed the dark arts—filling yak horns with cursed black mustard seeds, small pebbles, and the name of Tertön Sogyal and his astrological sign written on parchment, which, when mixed together and shaken, caused debilitating migraines—in an effort to drive Tertön Sogyal away from Lhasa. Not wanting even the vapor of black magic anywhere near the Dalai Lama, Regent Demo sought to apply the antidote of positive public opinion. Demo requested that the Dalai Lama command Tertön Sogyal to display his spiritual accomplishments by revealing a treasure in public from within Jokhang Temple. The Dalai Lama agreed that such a rare event as a public treasure revelation would help correct the mistaken view of the misguided officials and sectarian monks, and increase public confidence and devotion for Padmasambhava and Tertön Sogyal.

A date was set when the stars, planets, and elements were propitiously aligned. The time of day when the treasure discovery should take place was announced, and invitations were delivered. Lhasa residents knew a momentous event was being planned, as lamas and dignitaries began filing into the temple. Broad-shouldered disciplinarian monks of Jokhang Temple and Demo’s private security force kept the order. The Dalai Lama rode in a silk-curtained palanquin from the Potala Palace to the Jokhang Temple. An elaborate throne was set up for the young leader, and cushion seats were arranged for the ranking lamas, the Medium of the Nechung Oracle, and monastic and government officials, as well as the foreign representatives from Nepal, Bhutan, and China. Thousands of devoted city folk circumambulated the outer boundary of the temple, reciting prayers and mantras.

The scene was set. The Dalai Lama presided over the congregation of lamas and monks. Brocade-clad Tibetan monk officals with their long, single turquoise earrings and hair tied in oiled topknots, and aristocrats in richly attired silks, took their seats according to rank. Tertön Sogyal sat in a deep state of meditation, his carpeted seat to the right of the Dalai Lama’s throne. A deep, sonorous chant began. Invocation prayers were accompanied by rolling drum beats and long trumpet drones followed by the liturgical recitations in guttural multitones. With hundreds of monks chanting in unison, it was as if the earth were rumbling below Lhasa. Shrine attendants passed with smoking urns of incense to purify the environment, and when the myrrh-like resin
guggul
and mustard seeds were spread atop the embers, any troublesome spirits who may have been attracted to the scene were chased away.

After an hour of chanting, no extraordinary signs had occurred. Some of the monk officals began to scoff to one another that Tertön Sogyal was a fraud. Whispers spread outside the temple among the shopkeepers that Tertön Sogyal was an impostor. Tertön Sogyal read what was on the weak minds of the cynics in the crowd, but he did not react. Just the day before, Tertön Sogyal had confronted a handful of monk officials in the Potala and told them that they had better follow to the letter all of Padmasambhava’s prophesies to avert danger from outside Tibet.

“You must build the requisite reliquaries and temples that Padmasambhava presaged, sponsor the specified rituals, and desist from using the monastery’s finances for personal gain,” Tertön Sogyal said, wagging his finger at the lavishly attired monks.

“Ah, you smelly so-called treasure revealers from eastern Tibet are a scourge to the Buddha’s teachings,” the portly monk-official responded. “Move out of the way. My assembly of two thousand monks needs me to guide them in prayer.”

“If you don’t follow the Great Guru Padmasambhava’s prophecies,” Tertön Sogyal shot back, “I will hold you and those with similar views responsible for the death of our nation.”

When there was a lull in the chanting, Tertön Sogyal rose to his feet, bowed to the Dalai Lama, and approached the central altar. Elaborate butter sculptures, copper bowls filled with scented water, and ritual offerings were arranged on wide tables in front of the shrine. The tertön took a cone-shaped torma, made of barley dough, in his right hand and a skull cup overflowing with barley beer in his left. He stepped toward a wall painting of Palden Lhamo, the wrathful Dharma protectress of Lhasa and the Dalai Lamas; she rides a mule and carries in her two hands a club and a skull cup of blood. With a tiger skin tied around her waist and human skin over her shoulder, Palden Lhamo moves with an ever-present storm of flames. Her mule’s panniers contain a skull, poison, and two divination dice.

Tertön Sogyal communicated to Palden Lhamo, circling the skull cup in front of the image on the wall. One of the ministers jabbed his fat colleague, chuckling that Tertön Sogyal was sure to fail. Tertön Sogyal stared widely. He dropped the torma below the image on the wall and grabbed the phurba dagger from his belt, holding it with a threatening gesture. Eye to eye with the protectress, he reminded her of her oath to protect the nation and the Dalai Lama. Immediately, the painted mule on which Palden Lhamo rode came to life, brayed, and kicked its right leg toward the open space of the courtyard. In the space where the hoof had passed, suspended in midair, seethed a vicious blue-black serpent coiled 21 times, holding a small treasure casket.

“Cover your eyes, nose, and mouth,” the Dalai Lama shouted from his throne. As the snake hissed, a wave of commotion spread about the congregation as monks covered themselves with their burgundy shawls. Two of the cynical ministers bolted out of the temple, shaking with panic.

“If you ingest any of the poisonous vapors of this serpent, you will certainly meet your death!” the Dalai Lama warned.

Tertön Sogyal presented the skull cup to the snake, barley beer dripping over the edge. The phurba in his right hand pointed in a threatening gesture. There was a pregnant silence. Steam rose from silvery venom that dripped from the snake’s fangs. Tertön Sogyal moved slowly closer, and closer. Atrin draped a silk scarf between Tertön Sogyal’s outstretched wrists.

The assembly began to peer over one another again, keeping their shoulders hunched and heads lowered as if the snake were going to spit at them. Tertön Sogyal continued to stand firm. Hissing and writhing, the serpent swelled in size and, snapping its body, pitched an emerald-colored treasure casket toward Tertön Sogyal, which landed in the middle of the open silk scarf. He quickly wrapped the treasure with the scarf and stepped backward. He nodded to the treasure-protecting serpent for its service, and the snake dissolved into light.

Tertön Sogyal presented the treasure casket to the Dalai Lama at the throne. It was marked with the personal seals of the ruler and treasure revealer and was placed in the inner sanctum of Jokhang Temple. The stunned monks began reciting auspicious prayers to Padmasambhava as Tertön Sogyal returned to his seat.

“He has done it!” Word spread quickly from inside the temple to the public outside. “Tertön Sogyal is Guru Padmasambhava’s representative!”

Devotion welled from the hearts of the faithful, causing the treasure casket to open by itself. Shrine attendants held the casket for the Dalai Lama, who removed an exquisite statue of Guru Padmasambhava known as
Blazing with the Glory of Auspiciousness
, as well as five small golden treasure scrolls and a crystal capsule of spiritual medicine, with which he blessed the congregation.