Monks and Modernity

Monks & Modernity
Contemporary Buddhist Monasticism
in the Tibetan Diaspora
Keith Nelson
Dr. Tara N. Doyle
Emory Tibetan Studies in Dharamsala
Independent Research
Emory-IBD Tibetan Studies Program
Dharamsala, India (Spring 2004)
Table of Contents
I.) Introduction
................................................................................................... 2
II.) Research Process & Methodology ..................................................................... 5
***
III.) The Monastic Tradition: Monks & Tibetan Religiosity ................................... 7
IV.) The Monastic Institution in north Indian Diaspora: Three Communities ........ 12
V.) Education & Technology: Transcending the “Boundedness” of Tradition ....... 14
VI.) Modernity & the Monastic Self: Individuality, Difference, Nostalgia ............ 25
VII.) The Future of Monasticism in Diaspora: Three Issues .................................. 36
VIII.) Conclusion .................................................................................................... 42
***
Acknowledgements ................................................................................................. 44
Sources Cited & Interviews .................................................................................... 45
Cover photo: The author with monks at Sherabling monastery, Himachal Pradesh, India.
L. to R.: Karma Chime Dorje, Karma Damchod, & Karma Pema Wangchuk.
Photo: Dakpa Kalden
1
Introduction
Looking at the old monk seated in the white plastic lawn chair opposite myself, I am
overwhelmed by a sense of awe and respect for the obvious tenacity and determination that have
brought him to this place in his life, on this sunny and cloudless morning in north India, far from
his home in eastern Tibet, and far from the monastery which became his home at the early age of
twelve. Karma Gyurme is now eighty-two years old. The pauses in our interview, translated by a
Tibetan friend who seems almost intimidated by Karma Gyurme’s age and rough Khampa accent
and inflections, are filled with the monk’s labored but slow, even breathing and the occasional,
low mumble of mantras. Staring at Karma Gyurme’s hands, I notice his calloused and gnarled
fingers do not once cease their steady counting of the beads in his rosary during the length of our
talk. Nor does he seem to be moved from his placid equanimity
by the dozens of flies that swarm about the entrance to the monastery canteen where we sit,
buzzing about his face, settling to rest on the jutting ridges of his cheek bones , the loose folds of
his neck, and the deep creases at the corners of his eyes. Behind him, the Dhauladhar mountains,
clothed in shaggy pines and spruces, reach up into vast, blue sky. Tattered prayer flags are just
visible along a far-off ridge, dots of flapping color on the breeze.
Our pregnant pauses are filled with more than this old monk’s breathing—a
tinny sounding stereo inside the canteen is playing, to my initial shock, a popular dance-club tune
from the U.S. by the pop group “The Venga Boys.” A sped-up techno beat thumps in tune to a
high-pitched, girly voice:
“I’m a Barbie girl, in a Barbie wor-orrrld, when you’re plastic—it’s fantastic!
You can brush my hair, undress me everywher-errre, Imagination! Life is your creation!”
This moment shared with an old Tibetan monk to the tune of American dance
club culture is, to say the least, bizarre. I remember the feeling that some dissociated fragment of
twenty-first century America had materialized out of nowhere, amid dirt roads winding through
2
mountains, simple villages, and women tending cows and goats. It was as if a memory of life in
the U.S. had leaked out, and funneled itself, jarringly, into surround-sound.
The above incident is merely one example, however, of the dozens of ways monks and
monastic institutions outside of Tibet have been influenced by the myriad forces that make up the
collective Tibetan encounter with diaspora. This encounter—which, as I intend to show, in
actuality encompasses a vast range of experiences and responses to an equally vast range of
phenomena—has continually evolved over the last fifty years. It is also one that the Tibetan
people have struggled through and adapted to, consciously and unconsciously, on an individual,
communal, and ethnic basis.
At the outset of my research, my intent was to discover and record the varying responses
of Tibetan monks to life in the Indian diaspora community, focusing on a subject which is almost
indistinguishable from “diaspora” itself: the modernity of twenty-first century India. Following
this train of thought I quickly found myself engaged in a tight-rope act between essentializing
modernity by attempting an abstract deconstruction of its elements and the ways they manifested
themselves in the context of my study, and the real and human lives, thoughts, and responses I
was encountering, that continually defied academic abstruseness as well systematic analysis.
However, I believe modernity may be successfully and realistically seen as multiple and
intersecting levels of access to both education and technology which jointly allow for
communication with (and thus, influence by) the evolving “global community”. It is all of the
phenomena that manifest, and how they manifest, on a cultural, social, and religious level in
response to these aspects of modernity that most interested me in my study of Tibetan
monasticism in India.
There were a number of wider, embedded cultural contexts that became relevant as I
struggled to comprehend the subtle interplay between monks and modernity. The cultural and
religious lives of Tibetans, then specifically Tibetans living in India, then both those who were
born in India and those who at some point in their lives had escaped from Tibet to live there, the
3
culture of Tibetan men, young and old, the culture (and deeper, the cultural construction) of the
individual and the community, and finally, the culture of monks and the monastic institution were
all layers I had to consider. Secondary considerations in this expanding series of ellipses became
the culture of native north Indians, the culture of India as a whole, and an especially significant
aspect of the former, the ever-increasing contact with the ideology and culture of the modern,
industrialized West. As especially younger Indians and Tibetans living in India increasingly seek
to emulate these ideals, they have also begun to exercise their own influence upon young Tibetan
monks.
I have chosen to discuss and analyze three primary topics in my presentation of this vast
subject. I have looked at the expanding role of education in monastic contexts, an expanding
definition of what that education should include, and increasing access to material technology.
The issues that technology has opened up in the lives of monks garnered some of the most
enthusiastic, and most widely differing responses in my interviewing process. I have also
explored various ideological and behavioral influences in the lives of monks living in diaspora,
and how these have shaped their goals, respective worldviews, and most significantly, their
definition of monkhood and the monastic institution on a communal and social level, and their
respective self-concepts as individual monks. Lastly, I raise and discuss responses to tradition—
adaptation of aspects of monasticism to better suit diaspora life, preservation of the core values
and traditions unique to the Tibetan understanding of monasticism, and changes in tradition when
it is deemed necessary and beneficial. Through the course of my interviews, research, and
interaction with these thirty-seven monks, I found that monasticism is still generally regarded
with deep veneration by Tibetans living in diaspora and continues to represent an essential
element of Tibetan religion. However, it has perhaps suffered from the same erosion over time as
other traditional institutions and customs in Tibetan culture, and from the same effects that have
eroded monastic culture in other Asian, Buddhist societies. One of these eroding effects is a
decreasing emphasis on the value of a life devoted solely to religion, discipline, and celibacy, due
4
to evolving notions of modernity, and, therefore, a notion of what is “pre-modern.” In many
cultures that have been directly or indirectly industrialized by the west, this imposed construction
of pre-modernity includes religion. Significantly, Tibet has undergone massive industrialization
not by the West but by China, with its accompanying ideology of Marxist socialism and its
attempts to rid Tibet of the “evils of lamaism.” This has led to a fiercely rebellious and tenacious
streak evident in the Buddhist practice of native Tibetans living in Tibet, but what of those in
India, a country of extreme religious pluralism and tolerance? While Tibetans in the diaspora
community in general continue to practice Buddhism faithfully and in large numbers, this
question has been a central one in my investigation of monastic life—where this is not always the
case.
This effect is also perhaps exacerbated in the diaspora community because, despite the
surprisingly strong degree of cultural unity and affinity felt among Tibetans living in India, their
is an underlying and persistent feeling of fragmentation on a nationalistic level effected by an
awareness of their guest status in a host country. This sense of Tibetan nationality is tied
intimately to religion, or what Melvyn C. Goldstein describes as the “religionationalistic”
ideology shared by Tibetans.1 As I will discuss further, this ideology has clear connections with
the promotion of monks and monastic culture by the laity.
Research Process and Methodology
This paper is a relatively brief exploration of only some of the issues effecting and
changing the lives of Tibetan monks in diaspora, the monastic institution, and its place in the
socio-religious lives of Tibetans in north India generally. In the course of my research I found a
surprising dearth of material specifically relevant to Tibetan monks living in the many
contemporary diaspora communities of India, Sikkim, Nepal, Bhutan, and the trans-Himalayan
region, and the aspects of contemporary life “in exile” that have challenged, defined or shaped
1
Goldstein, Melvyn C. Buddhism in Contemporary Tibet. (Hereafter cited as BCT). 15.
5
their lives and monastic practice. It is of interest that, due to the innovative and insightful
work of Western scholars and the vocal advocacy of Western nuns such as Tenzin Palmo and
Karma Lekshe Tsomo, the socio-cultural forces shaping the lives of Tibetan nuns in the diaspora
has begun to receive a great deal of much-needed attention. This is in large part due to a
centuries-long silence imposed by a male monastic patriarchy, and, after 1959, a communist
regime, out of which many nuns are now escaping. Their flight into exile has ironically elevated
their status and endowed them with a voice they did not have in the “old society” of pre-1959
Tibet, and its progress, though relatively incipient, is well underway.
The status of monks is, of course, not the issue I wish to address—it hardly needs to be
noted that monks have always been given higher status. Tibetan monks have also received a great
deal of attention for political activity and protest within Tibet, so much so that hand-cuffed monks
in maroon robes are the most recognizable figures of Tibetans and Tibetan-ness in the
international community. It is, rather, the lack of significant ethnographic material addressing the
lives they live and their responses to contemporary issues as monks living in communities with
other monks in diaspora and in relation to contemporary Tibetan lay followers, that I point out
here. It is for this reason that I have largely had to rely upon primary research of my own to
construct a picture of how monks live, think, and respond to the modern world within the context
of north India, in 2003. Naturally, this picture cannot be a comprehensive one, due to the
limitations of my research. It is my hope that more thorough-going inquiry will be conducted in
this field in the future of Tibetan studies. A vital aspect of Tibetan religious culture is being
preserved from destruction by monks living in diaspora—it would be beneficial for an in-depth
study of the status of this preservation to be carried out, as it applies to the present reality of
Tibetans everywhere and the occupied status of their country.
The basis for this paper is a collection of thirty-seven interviews conducted with monks
ranging in age from twelve to eighty-two years over the course of one month, from April 21,
2003, to May 21, 2003, as well as three interviews conducted with laypeople involved in service
6
and administrative jobs in monastic communities. I chose three communities as my focus: Sherab
Ling, a large monastery in the Karma Kagyu tradition in Himachal Pradesh, north India, two
small collectives of Gelug monks—the Drepung Loseling Guesthouse and Jangchub Choling
monastery-- in the Majnu-katilla and Laxmi-Nagar districts of Delhi, and a number of Gelug
monks studying at The Institute of Buddhist Dialectics, Sarah campus, just below Dharamsala,
also in Himachal Pradesh. In addition, I utilized participant-observation of prayer assemblies,
rituals, classes, meals, cricket games, Bruce Lee film viewings, debate sessions, and other
activities as well as textual research.
The Monastic Tradition: Monks and Tibetan Religiosity
“A monk should strive to bring bliss and merit to both himself and others.
Religion overcomes all misery and suffering—it is the only important thing.”
-- Tenzin Chokden, monk.2
“Tibetans saw religion as a symbol of their country’s identity and the superiority
of their civilization.”
-- Melvyn C. Goldstein3
The tradition of young men (and women) renouncing a life of material possessions and family
and adopting a mendicant life, in order to devote themselves solely to the pursuit of religion,
is an essential component of the Buddhist faith in all its Asian cultural contexts. The relationship
between the sangha, or the ordained community, and the laity is thus idealized in Buddhist Asia
as one of close reliance and mutual support. Without the sangha, there can be no preservation of
the Dharma, and no access to its teachings by lay people, and without the material support of the
laity there can be no sangha. As one Buddhist scholar puts it, “The Buddhist monastic
community is the prerequisite for the existence of Buddhism in a given society.”4
As Buddhism filtered into Tibet in a number of phases, between the seventh and eighth
2
Interview 1. Tenzin Chokden. Sherabling, 4/21/03. For a detailed listing of all interviews conducted, see
Sources Cited & Interviews.
3
Goldstein, Melvyn C. BCT. 15.
4
Gethin, Rupert. The Foundations of Buddhism. (Hereafter cited as TFB). 92.
7
centuries, the institution and traditions of north Indian monasticism were transmitted and adapted
to Tibetan culture as well. The first monastery in Tibet, according to legend, was constructed at
Samye by the Indian abbot Shantarakshita, with the assistance of the accomplished guru
Padmasambhava, revered by Tibetans as the first to definitively establish the Dharma in Tibet.5
It is most likely that monasticism did not begin its development in full force until the time of
another Indian abbot, Atisha Dipamkara, in the tenth century. His active dissemination of the
teachings of the Kadam school, which emphasized purity of conduct and the virtues of monastic
ordination, was to have an enormous impact on the future of Tibetan Buddhism on an institutional
level.6
Buddhism in Tibet evolved not only as a system of spiritual progress leading beings
toward potential Buddhahood, followed and revered by an overwhelming majority of the
country’s population, but became deeply intertwined with Tibet’s collective vision of itself as a
land and a people with a cosmic, inherent connection to the Dharma. This pattern is reflected in
Tibetan creation myth, in explanations of Tibet’s natural landscape and self-manifesting holy
sites, and most significantly in Tibet’s ancient lineage of kingship. This lineage was founded by
Tibet’s first Buddhist king, Songtsen Gampo, who is considered an earthly emanation (like most
formative figures in the country’s history) of Chenrezig, the bodhisattva of compassion. This
culturally embedded connection to Buddhism, played out on the political, national, ethnic,
social, and familial levels, was safe-guarded and preserved by arguably Tibet’s most sacred
institution—its monasteries and its monks.
As Goldstein aptly suggests in the quotation above, the presence of monasteries and
monks in traditional Tibetan society was “both the concrete manifestation and the validation of
5
6
Gethin, Rupert. TFB. 266
Gethin, Rupert. TFB. 267.
8
Tibetans’ belief in their society’s religiosity.”7 Mainstream religious life in Tibet revolved around
the most immediate reminders of the Dharma’s presence—the gompa, or monastery, in the next
valley, the lama to whom one’s family paid the highest devotion in the form of offerings and
service, the rituals performed by monks to cure the sick or negotiate the auspicious rebirth of a
dying relative, and countless other aspects of daily life. The statement that “religion is the only
important thing,” as Tenzin Chokden insists, seems truly representative of at least a significant
strand of Tibetans’ collective consciousness when we consider the unique features of Tibetan
Buddhist monasticism that contributed to its unrivaled prominence in society.
Two major characteristics distinguished the monasticism of Tibet: the practice of
enrolling children in monasteries, to be ordained as novices or with the assumption that they
would be trained for later, formal ordination, and what Goldstein calls the “implicit ideology of
‘mass monasticism.’”8 The religious fervor behind these two phenomena, coupled with an
investigation of some individual understandings of the monastic calling gleaned through my
interviews, will give us a clear picture of the monks’ mission, role in society, and the culturally
sanctioned construction of the monastic community. All of these factors play a fundamental role
in my later analysis of contemporary monasticism in India, which both affirms and challenges its
traditional past.
Throughout most of Tibetan history up until the Communist invasion of 1959, the
overwhelming majority of monks joined monasteries at their parents’ behest between the ages of
six and twelve. Monastic ordination was considered a great privilege and honor because, as my
interview with Tenzin Chokden also reveals, “monks have a great opportunity to be closest to the
Dharma, an opportunity that laypeople do not have in the same capacity or degree.” The ideology
7
8
Goldstein. BCT. 15.
Goldstein. BCT. 15.
9
behind child ordination reflects the same general attitude concerning the mutual dependence of
the sangha and laity cited above—while the child received the great privilege of monastic status,
the parents who “offered” their children to monasteries also participated in the karmic merit
thereby generated.9 In an interesting way this can be seen as a participation on the part of
individual families in the collective religious destiny of Tibetans, assuring the preservation of the
Dharma for posterity. Other motivations behind child ordination included socio-economic factors
such as the number of children a family could support, as well as various occurences in the life of
the child and their interpretation as auspicious by local lamas or abbots.10
The fact that the decision of the child had little or nothing to do with his future as a monk
is reflective of the hierarchy of family and the religious establishment over the lives of
individuals, and the extreme nature of the Tibetan understanding that Dharma is good for
everyone—even if they don’t know it:
“For example, if a new child monk ran away from the monastery, he was inevitably
returned by his parents and welcomed by the monastic administration. There was no
thought of dismissing him on the grounds that he obviously did not want to be a monk.
Tibetans feel that young boys cannot comprehend the value of being a monk and that it
is up to their elders to see to it that they have the right opportunities.”11
The fact that parents and families did this in such large numbers, and that it was
such a venerated custom, led by default to the phenomenon of “mass monasticism.” As an
illustration of this, in 1951, monks comprised ten to fifteen percent of Tibet’s male population: a
total of 115,000 monks. In addition, Tibet’s largest monastery, Drepung, was at that time the
largest monastery in the world.12 This ideology resulted in the enrollment of as many monks as
possible in most monasteries, regardless of how many could be feasibly supported, and the
expulsion of few except in cases of the most egregious offence.
9
Goldstein. BCT. 17.
Goldstein. BCT. 17.
11
Goldstein. BCT. 17.
12
Goldstein. BCT. 15.
10
10
Monasteries varied greatly in size depending on the remoteness of their location, the
number of families in the area and the politico-religious influence of the presiding lamas and
abbots. This remains true today in diaspora as well, with a few additional factors: the degree of
success with which exiled communities of monks have been able to re-constitute their numbers
and re-establish sources of support in India. For example, most of the monks I interviewed who
were not born in Tibet were born in areas of remote Himalayan north India or Nepal with only
tiny, village monasteries, and thus sent to Sherab Ling, a monastery closer to the exile
community’s re-structured center of religion and politics: Dharamsala.
But what of the moods and motivations that color the lives and activities of monks
in these monasteries? Goldstein again provides us with a succinct reference point: “Monasteries
were (ideally) collectives of individuals who had renounced attachments to materialism and
family and had made a commitment to devote their lives to the pursuit of Buddhist teachings,
including a vow of celibacy.”13 A look at the reasons behind the lives and activities of some of
the monks I interviewed will give the reader a more vivid understanding of the heart of the
monastic life as it is lived by individual monks.
The question, “What is a monk? What qualities should a good monk display?,” garnered
responses that reveal varying understandings of the underlying structure of traditional
monasticism described above and the values it strove (and strives) to instill in its monks. The
following quotations represent some of these:
A monk is one who has a good heart and doesn’t harm other people, who doesn’t
quarrel. One who is friendly with others and strives to relieve their suffering.
To earn merits and to live a virtuous life—this is why I had great interest in becoming
a monk.14
Monks should always try to keep the traditions of our religious culture alive,
especially study of Buddhist philosophy, and should try to have a kind-hearted and
spiritual motivation at all times, to relieve the sufferings of others. There is a
Tibetan proverb: ‘If you have a good heart, then you will always find your way through
13
14
Goldstein. BCT. 15.
Interview 7. Karma Ramjor. Sherabling, 4/22/03.
11
your obstacles.15
Monks should have feelings and thoughts that transcend transitory happiness
and establish them in lasting bliss—for this, the practice of Dharma is necessary. We not
only think of ourselves but think constantly of the happiness of others—not a short-lived
kind of happiness but one from which the causes of suffering have been permanently,
unchangeably uprooted.16
I wanted to become a monk because there are no particularly special benefits
to a lay life—if you live a spiritual life you can help many other people than yourself.
We are always told what a good and nice religion Buddhism is, but to truly understand
and know Dharma you must study the details of the texts.17
I became a monk because I wanted to lead a spiritual life, to study Buddhist
literature, so I could be helpful in giving guidance to the locals of my town in the
future. Moreover, the life of a monk is very simple, without the cares and concerns of
laypeople.18
If monks practice as they should, then we can truly say that the Buddhist
teachings are alive in the world.19
Clearly, the same themes repeat themselves: the value of altruism, deep
contemplation and study, self-discipline, non-attachment and abandonment of one’s ties to the life
of a lay person—all of which ensure one’s progress along the path to enlightenment. We also see
a theme that becomes especially relevant in considering contemporary diaspora communities: the
balance between involvement with the laity, for the purposes of teaching and social service, and
detachment from the “cares and concerns of laypeople.” In the final quotation we also see a
reflection from within the monastic institution of the general belief that, because monasticism
represents the heart of traditional Buddhist practice, its decline or increase reflects upon the
condition of Buddhism in the world at large.
The Monastic Institution in north Indian Diaspora: Three Communities
The three primary sites upon which I based my research represent three very different
situations in which monastics live and practice, and three very different ways in which threads of
15
Interview 11. Pema Rigzin. Sherabling, 4/22/03.
Interview 13. Khenpo Tsultrim Namdak. Sherabling. 4/23/03.
17
Interview 18. Pema Gyaltsen. Sherabling. 4/24/03.
18
Interview 33. Yeshe Thamgye. Jangchub Choling. 5/2/03.
19
Interview 29. Thubten Kunkhyen. Drepung Loseling Guesthouse. 4/29/03.
16
12
traditional monasticism weave into the encounter with diaspora and modernity. The following is a
brief description of the basic structure and composition of each site.
Sherabling Monastery is a monastery in the Karma Kagyu lineage presided over by His
Eminence Tai Situ Rinpoche, located about ten minutes outside of Bir settlement, Himachal
Pradesh. Bir’s Tibetans are primarily from the Dergey region of Kham, eastern Tibet. The entire
monastic complex houses a little over four hundred monks, as well as some nuns who live in
retreat on the property, which comprises a total of thirty acres.20 This makes it one of the largest
monasteries in the state. The land for Sherabling’s construction was donated by local Tibetans,
who were given the land by the local Indian government, in the late 1970s.
Essentially, Sherabling is a reconstruction in India of the monastic institution known as
Palpung Monastery in Tibet. Founded in 1757 in Dergey, Kham, and destroyed by the Chinese in
1959, this large community was renowned as a center of religious and artistic learning and
functioned as the seat of power for a succession of high-ranking reincarnate lamas, the Tai
Situpas. The abbot and founder of Sherabling is the twelfth incarnation in this lineage. Sherabling
is a unique, successful, and beautiful monastery due largely to H.E. the Twelfth Tai Situpa’s
charismatic command of English and his well-traveled, global personality. It is noticeably a place
which aspires to be a center of Buddhist learning and preservation for Tibetans and non-Tibetans
alike. Sherabling is structured to accomodate four major divisions of monks in residence there:
those in three-year retreat, those pursuing higher studies of Buddhist philosophy, those who
perform prayer and ritual, and the young monks there receiving basic training in Tibetan language
and grammar as a basis for further monastic pursuits.21
Drepung Loseling Guesthouse is, in fact, not a monastery at all, as is obvious from its
name. It is small guesthouse in Delhi’s primary Tibetan neighborhood, Majnu-katilla, operated by
about fifteen monks and one director chosen from among the members of Drepung Loseling
20
21
“Sherab Ling: Seat of the XII Tai Situpa.” Brochure from the monastery. Hereafter cited as SLB.
SLB.
13
Monastery in Mundgod settlement, south India. All revenue from the guesthouse goes directly
toward supporting the more than 2,500 monks who live and study at Drepung, and is one of a
variety of financial activities the monastery has arranged in order to support itself in India.
Majnu-katilla itself is a small but fascinating community, where one can perhaps best observe
both the levels of fluidity and permeability between Tibetan culture, modern, urban Indian culture
and “global” culture, but also the degree to which Tibetans are separated from those around them
in Delhi. This separation is not generally one of xenophobia, but arises out of a sensitivity toward
preservation of aspects of Tibetan culture and religion that are best kept intact by a degree of
spatial separation. One most interesting element of this dynamic tension between separation and
permeability proved to be the position of monks living here—displaced from the boundaries of a
discrete monastery but nevertheless living according to an adapted understanding of monastic
service. A similar situation is that of monks living at Jangchub Choling, a tiny monastery under
the Drepung administration, housing about twelve monks and situated in the somewhat secluded
district of Laxmi-nagar, Delhi. The primary purpose of monks here is to perform prayers and
rituals and to give teachings for Delhi’s Tibetan laity, and the monastery also functions as a place
for Drepung monks traveling abroad to stop, gather resources, and perform other tasks.
Finally, my research brought me back to a familiar place, The Institute of Buddhist
Dialectics, Sarah campus (IBD for short). This Tibetan college, located a thirty-minutes drive
below Dharamsala in Himachal Pradesh, provides education according to a traditional Tibetan
curriculum for both lay and monastic students, with a special track in Buddhist philosophy for
those who wish to pursue it. While there are a handful of lay students in the program, the majority
are monks and nuns, and the focal academic activity is dialectical debate—a specialty of Tibet’s
traditional monastic curriculum.
Education and Technology: Transcending the “Boundedness” of Tradition
In one of Mcleod Ganj’s dozens of tiny internet cafes—this one down a sloping alley
with mammoth piles of cow dung at every turn—five monks are gathered attentively around one
14
computer, faces illumined by the MTV music video flashing on the monitor. They each look to be
between fifteen and twenty years old. The tallest, clad in faux Gucci sun-glasses and red Nike
wind-breaker, chats on a mobile phone. The wind-breaker is tacitly considered acceptable for
monastic dress-code, as it is in the red/orange/yellow color spectrum appropriate for monks. In
fact, as I gaze around at the other customers, I notice that I am surrounded by stooped maroon
shoulders and fuzzy black heads. Monks in Mcleod Ganj seem almost obsessed with e-mail and
instant messenger. As I peak over at the monk beside me, I notice his screen name:
“BabyDon’tHurtMeNoMore” and quietly laugh to myself. I can’t help but read a bit of his
dialogue with a partner named “LOVEfeelslikeHeavenbutHurtslikeHELL”: “Hi how r u frend?”
“GR8, and u?”
I silently take this recurring scene in, each time I check my e-mail, and am often
reminded of the classical Tibetan allusion to “the ocean of the Dharma,” an epithet indicating the
vastness and depth of the Buddha’s teachings. Though equally vast, the “ocean” of cyberspace
holds perhaps less profundity, and greater potential for distraction in a life already shaken by
Mcleod’s increasingly urban atmosphere of tourism and material culture.
Monks in the communities I interviewed are engaged in the same struggles of adapting
to the “interface” with global culture that modernity offers, situating and re-situating themselves
and their ideas in a precarious dance between what I have called the elements of “boundedness”
and freedom from boundary in the diaspora community. The limits, expectations and ideals of
traditional monastic culture represent a complex amalgam of such bounded elements: the spatial
boundaries of the monastery, the physical and mental binding of monastic vows and robes, and
the socio-religiously enforced boundaries of monastic status and relationship to lay people.
Today, these lay people often include foreign tourists, whose expectations and assumptions may
differ altogether, or have no reference point at all. The expansion and permeation of these
boundaries by computer and internet technology and English-language education opens up new
realms of ideas, contacts, and influences for monks. Though I refer here to “boundedness”, one
15
Fig.1. Karma Gyurme, age 82. One of Sherabling’s oldest monks, Karma Gyurme
witnessed the destruction of Palpung monastery, in Tibet, in 1959.
Fig.2. Monks working in the canteen, Sherabling. Next to the author, L. to R.:
Tenzin Chokden & Tsultrim Tharchin.
16
Fig. 3. Karma Pema poses after Tibetan class, Sherabling. (above).
Fig. 4. Karma Damchod and other monks create a sand mandala in preparation for a fire puja,
a ritual to purify negative karma. Ritual is a major activity for monks at Sherabling. (below).
17
Fig.5. Pongrik Rinpoche, age 11. One of the youngest tulkus, or reincarnate lamas, at Sherabling.
Fig.6. L. to R.: Gyalton Rinpoche, the author, and Gyaltsen Phuntsok. Sherabling.
Prior to his enrollment in the shedra at Sherabling, Gyalton Rinpoche studied
computer software in Bangalore for two years.
18
Fig. 7. Monks at an outdoor prayer assembly, Sherabling.
Fig. 8. Kungha Gyatso, resident artist at Sherabling.
19
should note that, in the context of monastic discipline, one’s vows in actuality are not meant to
“bind” in the sense of confinement. Rather, they are meant to liberate one from influences and
activities which enmire one in the sufferings of mundane existence, by joining oneself to vows
designed to enable the accomplishment of that goal. In other words, by binding oneself to
monastic life, one simultaneously becomes “detached” from worldly life—as is expressed in the
Tibetan word for such detachment, tel-wa, meaning “untightened,” or “loosened.”22 The
transcendence of boundary that technology and “secular” or “modern” education promises is not
by default inimical to this monastic pursuit of transformation through spiritual discipline, but it
has certainly initiated a blurring of the traditional spheres of monk and laity.
The majority of monks that I interviewed responded positively to the advantages that
technology such as computers, internet access, telephones, public transportation, and tape and CD
recordings have to offer for monastics, and nearly all responded favorably when asked if they felt
studying non-religious subjects such as science and English was beneficial for monks. Reasons
they gave were generally threefold, being that education and technology allows monks to
propogate the Dharma to Western countries and to non-Tibetan speakers, allows monasteries to
establish vital contacts in the West and elsewhere for financial support, and allows for more
efficient monastic administration in exile. Most monks pointed out that levels of access to even
minimal technology or authentic education of any kind in Tibet or in some trans-Himalayan areas
is extremely low, and that India has much to offer in this regard. Most also had a well-balanced
perspective of the potentially negative impacts of these two, but only a few went into detail about
what they thought these were. It is difficult to tell the extent to which these responses may have
been influenced by my own contingency as a representative of modern, Western culture.
Gelek Samten, a monk and instructor at Sherabling, had a great deal to share with me on
this subject. At an early age he repeatedly ran away from his school in nearby Bir settlement to be
22
Interview 32. Geshe Dakpa Tenzin. Drepung Loseling Guesthouse. 4/30/03.
20
at Sherabling with his brother, pleading with his father to also allow him to be a monk. After his
ordination at age ten, he became an attendant to the then current retreat master, Saljey Rinpoche,
whom he served happily for the next six years, until the aging lama’s death. This event was a sort
of life crisis for Gelek: “Rinpoche was a very good lama, so I was so happy to serve him. When
he died I felt very lonely at Sherabling. At that time I also met one very old lama who had no real
education and got no real respect from anyone. As for myself, I was the same—whenever I
picked up books, whether in Tibetan or English, I couldn’t understand anything at all.”23
This sparked a voracious interest in learning which led to Gelek’s enrollment in a Tibetan
college in Benares and his study of “Tibetan history, grammar, economics, Hindi, and English—a
very modern education.”24 Gelek decided to study these subjects because he felt Buddhist
philosophy, as it is studied in the monastic college or shedra at Sherabling, would likely be too
vast and profound for him to truly digest. His choice of curriculum was motivated by a desire to
teach these subjects to young monks at Sherabling or perhaps employ them as an administrator in
the monastery office. During our interview, Gelek expressed deep-felt and enthusiastic belief in
the relevance of such education for the material development of the Tibetan sangha:
His Holiness the Dalai Lama says that progress made in technology, materially, should
be for the purpose of bringing ease to people’s lives. If things from the West are helpful
for us, we should integrate them into our lives. Material advancement, including things
and learning that facilitate transport and communication, are all positive and allow the
Dharma to flourish all over the world. With material development, you can do alot—but
it can also become an obstacle to focus and attentiveness.
As for me, my main responsibilities are producing Tibetan texts using computer
software and teaching the small monks Tibetan grammar—for me, this is serving the
Buddha just as much as sitting in puja [prayer assembly] and praying.25
Gelek Samten’s interpretation of “serving the Buddha” represents an interesting synthesis
of a traditionally validated position in the monastic system—that of nitty-gritty, administrative
work—and a modern statement about the special need for such monks in contemporary monastic
communities. In short, not all monks study or pray as a part of their calling—and it is those that
23
24
Interview 12. Gelek Samten. Sherabling, 4/23/03.
Interview 12.
21
do not that are often most directly responsible for maintaining the security and livelihood of their
fellow monks in India.
The curriculums at Sherabling, Drepung, and IBD Sarah vary considerably, though both
of the former include English as an optional part of studies. Study of Tibetan language is a vital
component of the curriculum at all three. This is true at Sherabling because so many of its monks
are from areas in Nepal and north India where Tibetan is not a first language. Kunsang Gyatso,
one of the chronically over-worked Tibetan instructors there, is himself from a nomadic family in
remote Ladakh. He expressed his occasional exasperation at the fact that the young monks
sometimes neglect their Tibetan studies: “It is so difficult for them sometimes just to have thirty
minutes of speaking practice—without any Nepali, Bhutanese, Hindi, or English. I say to them
sometimes, ‘Your duty as a monk is not just to eat! It is to be as perfect a monk as possible! So if
you don’t want to learn you can just go out, and I don’t need to bother about you!”26
Study of even rudimentary Tibetan was by no means expected of monks in Tibet in the
pre-1959 period, and many monks were even functionally illiterate, having memorized only some
necessary prayers.27 At least part of the general concern and attentiveness to matters other than
practice of religion, including a firm emphasis on Tibetan language and literacy in these
communities seems to be an implicit understanding that in the minds of many Tibetans, failure to
consider the material world, along with its politics and advancements, indirectly led to Tibet’s
vulnerability to the Communist take-over in 1959. This has led the Dalai Lama to adopt a policy
of equal development of both material and spiritual “technology”, as cited by Gelek Samten
above. One young reincarnate lama from Amdo and a student at IBD Sarah, Kelsang Rinpoche,
supports this view: “As far as modernization at this college, it is important to teach [nonreligious] subjects, just as it is important to teach them in monasteries and other institutions that
25
Interview 12.
Interview 28. Kunsang Gyatso. Sherabling, 4/25/03.
27
Goldstein, BCT. 21.
26
22
mainly study Tibetan religion. It is important to work with, to be in touch with the rest of the
developing world—without doing this we may fail to work well with others.” 28
Despite this opinion, Kelsang Rinpoche quickly added that “such subjects can
also become distractions and can lead monks to neglect their studies.” Khenpo Tsultrim Namdak,
an especially helpful and warm interview participant and the primary director of the shedra at
Sherabling articulated this general view of Tibetan history in more explicit terms:
Losing our country was somewhat related to a lack of awareness of modern
technology. In earlier days, parents tried to send the best of their children to monasteries.
Because Tibetans are so committed to religion and development of the heart, they pay
most of their attention to Dharma and neglect material things—including material
technology and ‘modernization.’29
This concern also explains another justification for equipping today’s monks with at least
a basic secular education. In the case of monks who decide to “disrobe,” or give back vows under
the pressure of lay influences, a basic knowledge of Tibetan reading and writing as well as
perhaps basic English prevents these young men from re-entering lay society without any
employable skills. Tenzin Rabsel, a young monk from Delhi’s Jangchub Choling monastery,
related that,
Generally, as monks we are taught to think primarily about our future lives but
integration of modern education is very much appreciated because if the monks give up
their monastic vows, with knowledge of English and other subjects, they can also lead
productive lives as lay people, without great difficulties finding jobs for themselves. If
a monk can remain a monk forever, this is very, very good. If not—if some kinds of
obstacles emerge, and if he is disrobed with no modern awareness or education—then
his life is gone. He cannot even think about his present life, let alone future lives.
So even for monks, modern education is important.30
During one of my several conversations with Gyalton Rinpoche, a young tulku at
Sherabling who studied computer software in Bangalore for two years and speaks fluent English,
28
Interview 36. Kelsang Rinpoche. IBD Sarah campus, 5/10/03.
Interview 13.Khenpo Tsultrim Namdak. Sherabling Gompa. 4/23/03.
30
Interview 35. Tenzin Rabsel. Jangchub Choling. 5/2/03.
29
23
Rinpoche insisted that modern education is really necessary for the same reason, among others:
“For those who decide to leave monasteries, if they have no secular education they end up
‘neither here nor there,’ no longer monks but not fully lay people either. It [secular education] is
needed so that a person doesn’t suffer from lack of opportunity or education in the future if they
decide to give back vows.”31
Thus, views toward education tended to reflect an overall understanding that engagement
with the evolving modern world on the part of monks is both beneficial—for the spread of
Buddhism and for the financial stability of communities, as well as for the future welfare of
individual monks—as well as necessary in the culturally displaced environment of exile. This
view also applied to technology which allows for more efficient and convenient execution of
these activities. But what of the monk I mention at the beginning of this section—with the mobile
phone and the stylish accessories? Do some monks take this attitude of necessary and beneficial
engagement with modernity too far?
Kungha Gyaltsen, a layman and brilliant artist who works in residence at Sherabling,
seemed to think so. As we sat in his quiet studio, filled with half-painted deities and intricate
thangkas, he began by expressing doubt as to whether or nor he would have anything valuable to
say concerning the lives of monks. I pointed out that because he lives in a monastic community,
he is around monks most of the time. However, as a layperson he might have at least an element
of removed objectivity in his views, and this might provide a valuable perspective. He was
candid, and critical:
A monk should be a person who is interested in Buddhist studies and Dharma
practice—nowadays, society comes out with many fancy things, fashionable clothes,
mobile phones...a monk should live a very simple life, with no need for all this. You
don’t need a mobile because there is a phone booth right here in the monastery office!
When I was young I used to pay a lot of respect and reverence to all monks, even the
most ordinary. Nowadays, seeing monks acting in so many ways they shouldn’t has made
me lose respect for them. Even here not all the elder monks look after the younger ones
31
Interview 5. Gyalton Rinpoche. Sherabling, 4/22/03.
24
as they should—when I object to this, they say, ‘The times have changed, we have
become more modern!’ However, not all monks are the same and I still have faith left in
the good ones.32
When I created a description of a “modern monk” for some of the young monks
I interviewed—for example, the type one might see on the street in Mcleod Ganj-- most reacted
with dissapproval, as in the case of Karma Damchod, a twenty year old monk from remote
Kinnaur: “Actually, it’s sort of embarassing for all of us when we see monks wearing funny
clothes and doing funny things—but as individuals it is not really appropriate for us to say
anything, to criticize another’s behavior.”33 In other words, monks are quite aware of the trap that
infatuation with modern lay life presents—but the response is an issue of individual choice, a
subject I approach in the following chapter.
It is in my next section that I shall more fully discuss the range of ideological and
behavioral responses of contemporary monks living in diaspora to the impacts of modernity.
With educational and technological issues as a reference point for this overall phenomenon,
I then began to look at the overall cultural transition, evolution, and integration of Tibetan
monastics with modern ideas and influences.
Modernity and the Monastic Self: Difference, Individuality, Nostalgia
In the course of my research I found that three primary moods or motivations tended to
color the responses of monks to the forces of modernity outlined in the previous chapter, and
revealed a great deal about the lives of monks in the contemporary Indian diaspora that I had not
noticed to such a significant degree prior to my interviews. These three are the evolving ways
monks addressed understandings of individuality and community, the common observation by
those I interviewed of the generalized differences between monks raised in Tibet and those raised
in exile, and the response of nostalgia—a nostalgia rooted both in actual history as well as a
collectively constructed, Tibetan vision of the past.
32
33
Interview 26. Kungha Gyaltsen. Sherabling. 4/25/03.
Interview 8. Karma Damchod. Sherabling. 4/22/03.
25
Issues of individualism would at first seem not to play a significant role in Tibetan
monastic communities. Monks are ideally stripped of any outward sign of individual identity,
excepting the finer regalia reserved for tulkus, and choose a life of collective prayer, study, and
other traditional religious pursuits, within a community. However, Goldstein’s definition of the
monastery as a “collective of individuals” underscores the point that, in Tibetan monastic
practice, each monk was ultimately responsible for his individual karma, individual
commitments, and ultimately acted according to individual choices.34 This was especially true
regarding the enforcement of monastic values: “The karma-grounded ideology of Tibetan
Buddhism saw the enforcement of morality and values as an individual rather than an institutional
responsibility. Individuals, monks or otherwise, were responsible for their actions.”35 Yeshe
Thamgye, a monk and head cook at Delhi’s Jangchub Choling monastery, described this issue in
relevant, contemporary terms: “Whether there are challenges or not to one’s discipline, especially
here in Delhi, is up to one’s individual thoughts and commitment. Otherwise, being in Delhi you
may see and be distracted by many things, unless your mind is stable and firm.”36Additionally,
monks were usually engaged in different daily activities and schedules throughout the
community—some responsible for menial chores, some for intensive study, some for solitary
practice, etc. Contrary to the common schedules of, for example, many monasteries in East Asia
or those of some Christian monasteries, in which daily attendance of all monastics for specific
communal activities is required, Tibetan monastic communities rarely require all monks to be in
the same place at the same time.37 Thus, the general dynamic between individual monk and
community is delineated by microcosms of individual or smaller group activity within the larger
macrocosm of the monastery itself.
34
Goldstein. BCT. 15. Emphasis mine.
Goldstein. BCT. 22.
36
Interview 33. Yeshe Thamgye. Jangchub Choling, 5/2/03.
37
Goldstein. BCT. 27-28.
35
26
Goldstein cogently observes the fact that, generally, “whether a monk spent his time
praying or studying or sitting in the sun was his own decision.”38 I found this statement to be
more than amply representative of the common attitude in the communities I looked at. However,
an important element has been introduced to this picture in diaspora--namely, that the variety of
choices for the individual monk has expanded dramatically beyond “sitting in the sun.” This also
means that the autonomy monks have in determining their own priorities, spiritual or material,
has expanded. For example, at Sherabling, Thursdays are reserved as a holiday from scheduled
religious activities, and are observed with an enthusiastic intensity. On the Thursday I found
myself at Sherabling, many monks rose early (some earlier than most days), donned varying
ensembles of yellow and red shorts and T-shirts, and began a rigorous day of cricket and football
playing, drinking coca-cola, eating, viewing of Kung-fu movies in Chinese with Tibetan subtitles, and general loafing punctuated by hourly tea breaks—some of them managing to squeeze
in interviews with me. However, when I observed the activities in the shedra up the hill—this day
being a once-monthly holiday for them—I found monks with faces buried in religious texts and
calmly catching up on pages of sutra memorization. One monk I found, Pema Namdup, was
listening to religious music—a recording of the songs of Tibet’s great saint, Milarepa—and he
confessed a little guilt that he was not studying! The difference was obviously striking, and
demonstrated the fact that what monks choose to do with their free time largely demonstrates
their individual concerns as monks—a fact as true in the pre-1959 era as it is today. However, the
situation has another dimension. Observing a Tibetan class at Sherabling, I noticed a notebook
one of the young monks used, advertising a Hindi film. Its cover bore a smug-grinned Indian
actor and an actress in tight jeans and stilletos, with the slogan, “A Lethal mix of Comedy and
Romance.” Much the same description could be used for a larger issue at work here. The variety
and nature of available leisure activities for monks in contemporary India represents a potentially
38
Goldstein. BCT. 22.
27
threatening influence upon traditional monastic discipline that is certainly a force to be reckoned
with. The presence of this force is largely unfelt in remote areas of Tibet, even today. In addition,
the potential danger of increasing individual choices in light of the continual encroachment of
modernity upon monks is made greater by the lack of a unified, broader cultural
matrix to indirectly enforce the uprightness of monks. Diaspora society in India is disunified to
the extent that collective Tibetan morality and its accompanying expectations of monks, as it was
once culturally manifest, is no longer as cohesive a force.
An interesting statistic from the website of the Tibetan government-in-exile indicates that
nearly half of all refugees who have fled Tibet for India in the past five years have been monks
and nuns, and of the total number of refugees, nearly half (forty-four percent) have been between
the ages of fourteen and twenty-five.39 As one can surmise, this suggests that the majority of
monks in current residence in monasteries in India are young, native-born Tibetans. As I
discovered in my research, there tends to be a reported difference in the primary attitudes and
motivations, as well as the behavior, of monks born in Tibet and those born and raised in exile.
Upon first hearing this statement, I was reluctant to accept its validity, on the basis that it seemed
to be a simplistic generalization. While it is indeed a generalization, and the number of interviews
I conducted was far too small a pool for any broader conclusions to be made regarding it, I should
note that among those I spoke with this general difference was noted and affirmed by both
groups, with similar characterizations, each for the other. According to characteristic differences
listed, Tibet-raised monks seem to demonstrate greater discipline, tenacity, and singularity of
focus in religious pursuits, while the raised-in-exile monks are less disciplined and more “casual.”
These apparent differences were most often described with reference to various cultural,
religious, and social factors that make up the conditioning of monks in Chinese-occupied Tibet
versus India. It is worthwhile to look at these points in contrast.
39
Tibetan government in exile website: www.tibet.com
28
Monks frequently noted that because China maintains consistent policies that repress
religious expression, and because monks are the most continuously silenced of Tibetan religious
voices, this atmosphere instills in Tibetan monks the knowledge that access to religion (especially
as a monk) is an enormous blessing and privilege. This includes the fostering of feelings among
aspirants to ordination—who are heavily regulated by the Chinese government, with applications
and waiting lists—that being a monk is a high honor, and worth pursuing at great cost.40 In other
words, repression breeds a hyper-awareness of religion and its value. A monk named Lobsang
Damchod, who escaped to India from Kham in 2001, had this to say: “The monks from Tibet
have greater mental strength because they really know firmly the reason behind why they are now
in India—because of Chinese suppression of religious practice. They have a wider view of the
entire practice, and they have more courage, determination, and persistence. The monks in India
aren’t really aware of the entire picture in this immediate way.”41
Treatment of monks by laypeople in Tibet was also a factor mentioned, specifically that
monks are still treated as special, as possessing a quality or status that removes them from the
laity on a spiritual level. In other words, Tibetans in Tibet truly prize their monks. They are still
considered representatives of a sacred institution, and are thereby motivated to act in a manner
deserving of this regard.
Finally, monks noted that the because the influences of modernity are still minimal in
Tibet, monasticism still holds significant appeal as a lifestyle embodying traditional Tibetan, i.e.
Buddhist, values. Additionally, access to consistent, modern education is not a privilege most
Tibetans are allowed, especially any uniquely Tibetan education. Therefore, multiple options for
career paths or vocations are minimized in this setting, leading more young men to consider
ordination.
40
41
Goldstein. BCT. 45.
Inteview 38. Lobsang Damchod. IBD Sarah campus. 5/11/03.
29
In contrast, India is a democratic country that encourages an atmosphere of religious
tolerance—indeed, the cultural diversity of India draws strength from its religious diversity and
its abundance of vibrant religious expression. Despite this factor, many monks seemed to think
that Tibetans raised in India, having grown up in this environment and never having encountered
genuine religious repression themselves, perhaps take this freedom for granted.
While treatment of monks in India was characterized as generally respectful and
reverential, most agreed that monks are not considered particularly “special” in the ways they are
in Tibet. This is likely due to the fact that more direct association occurs between monks and
laypeople, so the two spheres are, as one monk put it, “completely mixed together, like sheep and
goats.”42 Thus, when monks misbehave there are often less serious consequences and less social
stigma, because the general expectations laypeople have toward monks are lower. In some places
these expectations have become so low that some Tibetans actually look down upon monks. A
monk named Karma Chime Dorje at Sherabling related the following story:
I have a friend who is a monk in India, but whose uncle lives in Nepal, near
Kathmandu. When he decided to become a monk, his uncle was angry—he said, ‘Why
are you becoming a monk?! There’s no use at all—all those monks in India disobey their
vows and are very naughty. So, just begin your life [as an adult layperson] from right
now!’ My friend was so surprised by this! But Nepal is not a good place for monks, as it
has been very heavily influenced by tourism and the atmosphere is very disturbing for a
monk following a spiritual path.43
With the faith of the laity diminished in this regard, monks are not particularly
encouraged to live up to a highly exalted role or expectation, as in Tibet.
Finally, the influences of modernity and available access to modern education are much
greater in India, where traditional Tibetan Buddhist values mix (and compete) with other ideas
and value systems. Such access to modern education and other career paths makes monasticism—
regarded as a very traditional institution and way of life by many diaspora youth—less appealing
in the face of other options. Tenzin Rabsel, from Jangchub Choling, explains this:
42
43
Interview 38.
Interview 20. Karma Chime Dorje. Sherabling. 4/24/03.
30
Access to modern education is not a privilege that Tibetans are allowed, nor is
their much access to other modern influences, as most of them live in quite remote areas.
Since they have nothing else to do, they decide to become monks when they come to
India, to live a spiritual life. But people raised in India have seen and experienced very
much of modern society while still young, so it [monasticism] is less appealing to them.44
Nostalgia is a palpable force in the Tibetan exile community, a collective mentality
seemingly bred into Tibetans, whether born in Tibet or in diaspora. The power of past memories
to sustain a population’s cultural unity becomes truly evident when one spends time in nearly any
diaspora community and hears its stories—some whistful, some sorrowful, some embittered—of
the ways things once were. It is a nostalgia of functionality as well, keeping the hope of a future
return to Tibet alive in individuals who may have no other long-term guiding purpose, especially
the elderly.
There is a significant religious dimension to one type of this nostalgia. There are two preexisting strands in Tibetan religion which tend to idealize the eminent, sacred figures of its rich
past. One strand is seen in the attitude that practitioners should continually find encouragement in
the knowledge that they too can attain such levels of realization, as all sentient beings have the
same potential for Buddhahood. A contrary, and decidedly apocalyptic strand, insists that due to
the continual degeneration of the Dharma in our world over time, such realization is practically
impossible today. This second strand, coupled with an interpretation of history which sees the
Chinese occupation of Tibet and the exodus of Tibetans into diaspora as a manifestation of this
decline, firmly situates the corroding influences of modernity upon monastic life in India within
this context of Tibetan religio-cultural nostalgia.
Karma Gyurme, the elderly monk from Kham described in my introduction, evinced this
nostalgic view with matter-of-fact simplicity:
In earlier days, things were so different. Nowadays, monks are children of the modern
world. I have some doubt that monks can attain the same levels of greatness, whether in terms of
knowledge, scholarship, or realization, as in the past, in Tibet. Because the times have simply
changed—you can even notice this difference in my own generation and the previous one-44
Interview 35.
31
45
Fig. 9. (top) Khenpo Tsultrim Namdak
Fig.10. (bottom) Monks in the shedra.
32
Fig. 11. (above) Karma Pema Wangchuk, a shedra monk from Bhutan, Sherabling.
Fig. 12. (below) Pema Gyaltsen & Karma Samdup, shedra monks. Sherabling.
33
Fig. 13. A most enthusiastic Geshe Dakpa Tenzin, manager of Drepung Loseling Guesthouse,
left. Center: the author. Right, Geshe Damdul of Drepung Loseling monastery.
Fig. 14. L. to R.: Tenzin Rabsel, the author, and Lobsang Jinpa. Jangchub Choling, Delhi.
34
Fig.15. L. to R.: Zopa, the author, & Kelsang Rinpoche. IBD Sarah.
35
it's simply a matter of time. In the past, lamas were highly trained and educated, and had
a great capacity to actually relieve the sufferings of beings—now there is doubt and
skepticism.45
With this prevalent view of the situation also comes a subtle resignation that
spiritual greatness is a phenomenon of the past, in some ways discouraging those who might
consider the life of a monk—were it not otherwise so difficult and potentially unrewarding as
this ideology implies.
The themes of individuality, difference, and nostalgia reveal a variety of issues in the
lives and practice of diaspora monks. These issues include the expanding variety of choices and
material distractions monks must confront and, in the process, construct a meaningful and
fulfilling monastic life and self-identity. And they include the unique challenges to both monks
raised in exile and those raised in Tibet, depending upon the formative factors of prior cultural
conditioning, as well as the prevalence of religio-cultural nostalgia, which reinforces the idea that
monastic life may never re-gain its pre-1959 status—this status being based both on actual history
and glorified ideal.
The Future of Monasticism in Diaspora: Three Issues
Having considered some of modernity’s effects on the lives of monks in diaspora, as well
as the present state of monasticism in India, I return in this chapter to two of the characteristics
that Goldstein defines as central to Tibetan monasticism in the old society: child ordination and
the ‘mass’ nature of monastic enrollment. These two practices have continued with the evolution
of monasteries in India, suggesting that they are culturally embedded enough to withstand the
pressures of exile. However, it is in exile that these two previously unassailable components of
monastic life have finally begun to be questioned. Is it best to continue the custom of ordaining
children, or to give way to a standard ideal allowing an individual to exercise free, mature choice?
In regard to the over-population of monasteries in old Tibet—an equally pressing issue in the
45
Interview 2. Karma Gyurme. Sherabling. 4/21/03.
36
frequently over-crowded monasteries of India today—is it best to honor tradition and accept as
many monks as possible, or to shift the emphasis to smaller numbers of committed, quality
monks? Finally, out of these two issues arises a third, not unprecedented but much more frequent
occurence: the voluntary disrobing of monks in diaspora.
A standard, lineage-wide response to any of these issues is unlikely in the future, as
monasteries tend to function as independent entities governing their own policies and recruitment
of new monks. However, a long-term decision to settle these questions may become necessary to
ensure the successful continuation of diaspora monasticism, with integrity and discipline, into the
future. Alternately, if Tibet ever re-gains its freedom or political autonomy, these issues will
surely be formative in the issuing of a sweeping phase of revival monasticism there.
Views on the ordination of children among monks I interviewed varied greatly, though
many agreed that there were both great advantages and disadvantages to this practice.
Of all thirty-seven monks, more than half were ordained as children, most given by their
parents to local monasteries at an average age of eleven or twelve.46 The youngest of these was
six at the time of enrollment. In contrast, only fourteen claimed to have become monks by their
own choice and initiative. The youngest of this group was thirteen, while the oldest was twentyfour. Two of the “individual choice” group were apprenticed to ngakpas as children, a common
practice in rural areas with predominant Nyingma roots, but chose to take full monastic
ordination later.47 One was also a tulku (the previously mentioned Gyalton Rinpoche). Though
tulkus are usually encouraged and often expected to become monks, Gyalton Rinpoche
encountered some resistance to his ordination, on the part of his parents, after his recognition,
which explains his early secular education.48
46
Twenty-three were ordained as children, while fourteen chose individually to ordain as young adults.
Ngakpas are ordained lay practitioners who wear white robes, grow their hair long, and are commonly
local, village specialists in the performance of tantric ritual. They are almost exclusively Nyingma.
48
Interview 5.
47
37
Gyalton Rinpoche was one of those interviewed who gave a very balanced response to
the question of child ordination, citing both advantages and disadvantages:
The advantages are that a child grows up in a religious atmosphere and is not prey to as
many outside, distracting influences. In this way, religion becomes like a natural, automatic
reflex—one doesn’t need to over-analyze things, they’re just done. If this process is begun early,
one can become a very learned and very accomplished person.
The disadvantages are that not everyone is meant for a monk’s life. Individual decision, a
goal to reach, can be a much more positive motivator. Also, if you’ve seen the outside world and
what it is like you can relate better to the broader-mindedness of this world and perhaps make
Dharma teachings more simple or relevant for lay people. One can also make a better-informed
decision about whether a monastic life is right or desirable for oneself.49
Though Gyalton Rinpoche was raised outside of Tibet, in Sikkim, his comment that “not
everyone is meant for a monk’s life” nevertheless demonstrates a changing attitude toward
ordination which recognizes that, due to differences in individual inclinations and life-goals, the
path of monasticism is not a lifestyle which is universally in every young boy’s best interest. As I
mentioned earlier in this paper, the latter view was certainly the common one held by Tibetans in
the pre-1959 era. This new attitude, recognizing the value of individual choice, was also reflected
in the responses of monks raised in Tibet. Of those whom I interviewed who were born and raised
in Tibet, a significant number chose to ordain by themselves. One of these, Tenzin Rabsel,
remarked that ordination of children is different in present-day Tibet and India:
In remote villages in Tibet, children are sent by their parents to become monks
and live a spiritual life. Also, though he is not completely mature, because of the faith
and devotion instilled in the child, he will try to remain a monk forever. But in India,
although the parents send their children, when they become mature they disrobe—all of
their commitments diminish over the years. Maybe this is because of too much awareness
of modern society, too much familiarity with its facilities. Becoming a monk at age
eighteen or twenty is thus best to me, because that person can think or differentiate,
discriminate what is best for himself. At this age it is his own interests and decisions
which will lead him to become a monk—all in all, it is an issue of individual freedom.50
As I discussed in the previous chapter, the prevalence of ideas about individual freedom
play an important role in this discussion of child ordination. Reasons in support of child
49
50
Interview 5.
Interview 35.
38
ordination given by monks were much the same as the motivations of Tibetans in the old society
cited by Goldstein, primarily being the great merit this action brings the child as well as the
parents, and the vast “head-start” the child is given in terms of spiritual development. This
general motivation is one designed to acclimate a child to the monastic life early on, so that once
he begins to understand the real purpose of monastic life, he will already have begun, even if
unconsciously, to live out that purpose. Lobsang Damchod of IBD Sarah confirmed this:
The monk who becomes one at a young age has a greater advantage and will go
directly into practicing spirituality and be completely involved in that, and not be
distracted by other things—he’ll also be very grateful to his parents, because he has
accumulated a lot of experience [early in life]. For that boy, though, it depends on his
thought, understanding and motivation. If he later meets external, material conditions
from lay society he might be undermined by these things if his understanding isn’t firm.
But being sent at a young age can also increase an individual’s faith.51
Lobsang Damchod was a child monk, whose parents promised a local hermit to
offer him to a monastery because of various conditions surrounding his birth. This promise was
made when he was only three days old—now he is twenty-four. Though he expressed gratitude
that his parents did decide to make him a monk, it is note worthy that, like most of the monks I
interviewed, Lobsang Damchod was unable to give an unconditional response in favor of child
ordination. I believe this reflects a slow but consistent change in monastic opinion about the
subject in the modern environment of diaspora, as well as likely future approaches toward
monastic ordination that will encourage mature, informed decision.
In the 1980’s, during what was to become a major revival of monastic life at Drepung
monastery in Tibet, monastic administrators launched a new policy regarding its intake and
recruitment of new monks.52 Though this policy was influenced both by the monastery’s financial
restraints under the Chinese government, as well as a ceiling imposed on the number of official
monks Drepung could have registered, it was also shaped by a genuine desire on the part of the
51
52
Interview 38.
Goldstein. BCT. 33.
39
monastery’s original leadership to reform its enrollment philosophy. Accordingly, it was decided
that only monks who expected to be engaged in full-time study leading to the geshe degree or
those engaged in productive work on the monastery’s behalf should seek admission.53
At the heart of this decision was a new emphasis on the quality of monks rather than the
quantity filling the ranks of monastic communities. While no measures have been taken by, for
instance, the Tibetan government-in-exile to set such standards on monastic enrollment, the
question of quantity or quality is certainly a prevalent subject in diaspora. Whereas in the old
society, quantity was the clearest, most time-honored criterion thought to indicate the success and
flourishing of the Tibetan Dharma, the changed circumstances of contemporary Tibet as well as
those in exile no longer afford Tibetans this mass ideology, to the vast extent it was affordable in
old Tibet.54 It has become impractical and costly, and significantly, it has served as an impetus to
reevaluate the primary goals of the monastic life, and a re-consideration of whether or not
monasteries should retain monks who did not directly contribute to the activities of monastic life.
Many monks agreed that if some sort of policy were implemented to more vigorously
encourage the quality of monks in diaspora, this might increase the degree of faith the laity felt
toward them, raising the general esteem of the Tibetan public for monks to a higher level.
Geshe Dakpa Jampa, a monk at the re-constructed (and over-crowded) Drepung
monastery in Mundgod, India, had the following remarks:
Yes, quality monks are very important. In a large monastery you will find
both the best and the worst quality monks—some who study hard and are spiritually
sincere and those who are quite mischievous and cause problems. For instance in a
a great ocean you will find gold, silver, and jewels, but also frogs and fish! On one
mango tree you can find very sweet mangos, very sour ones, and those that are
sort of in between, though they have grown from the same tree. But if there are too many
monks then there will be larger numbers of poor quality ones, and this will cause a lot
of problems and bring a bad impression to the other monks and the public.
Hence, lay people may stop sending their children to become monks because
of this, as they will have no more faith and belief in monks. One day, this could lead
to no more monks joining monasteries.55
53
Goldstein. BCT. 33.
Goldstein. BCT. 31.
55
Interview 31. Geshe Dakpa Jampa. Drepung Loseling Guesthouse. 4/29/03.
54
40
Here we see an important point regarding the correlation between larger numbers and
looser discipline—in a monastery with thousands of monks, it becomes more difficult to maintain
a community which is homogenous in its commitment to Dharma. As I have mentioned, the
Tibetan ideology toward monastic discipline advocates the view that it is the responsibility of the
individual monk to maintain his precepts. However, if monks do not do so and are observed not
doing so by the Tibetan laity, this has an adverse effect upon the public image of the sangha, and
presents a serious obstacle for the future of diaspora monasticism. In smaller monastic
communities it is more conspicuous if monks violate their vows and undermine the faith of the
laity, and therefore can more easily be redressed. In addition, monastics need the laity not only
for material support, but for young lay aspirants to be inspired to ordain.
The question of quantity or quality will very likely continue to remain an unresolved
issue in the diaspora community in the future, in large part simply because, despite current
questions surrounding it, the ideology of “mass monasticism” is so ingrained in Tibetan culture as
a valid and meritorious tradition.
A final issue I questioned monks about was the seeming increase in the frequency of
“disrobings”, or incidences of monks giving up their vows to live lay lives, in the exile
community. I had been told by various informants that this was the case, and in fact knew a great
number of former monks—however, there are no published statistics or records commonly
available on the number of monks who give back vows. In my interviews I was told almost
unanimously that this was in fact true, and that the number of monks who give up vows is
decidedly higher in India and Nepal than in Tibet. The reasons behind it, according to monks,
were varied, but essentially due to a combination of all the factors I have cited in this paper: the
distractions of modern lay life, contact with tourism, the ideology of free will to decide one’s own
destiny, and negative responses to having been ordained as a child are some major ones.
Secondary reasons given were the differing responses of lay people to disrobings in India and
41
Tibet. Whereas in India it has become a regrettable but commonly accepted lifestyle decision, in
Tibet it remains an action which, depending on the remoteness of the area, can attract a
considerable amount of negative attention and social stigma. The following statement, by Khenpo
Tsultrim Namdak, reflects a number of the forces at work in the lives of contemporary monks—
which may or may not lead to disrobing:
Because of too much awareness about modern society outside of monasteries
and many conditions which arise because of this, delusion and undermining of commitment arise. These feelings or doubts are fed rather than renounced. By hearing stories
and seeing examples of lay people’s lives in society, one’s commitment and determination may easily come undone. As an example, in past days people would eat one
simple kind of food once a day, but now people need many kinds of tastes, many
kinds of foods. People used to have just one or two pairs of clothing, but now they
need so many! Also, people have more and more relationships to maintain because of
telephones and e-mail. There are even endless kinds of vehicles that people can get in to
go anyhwere—taxis, jeeps, rickshaws and motorbikes!
In the past a very spiritual person could just sit in a cave and meditate, with
nothing else—just this, simply. Nowadays, people ‘need’ so many things, just for their
Dharma practice. 56
Above we see a complex amalgam of observations: that increased access to
modernity has brought greater complexity and materialism to the more simple, spiritual lives of
monks, that increase in both direct and indirect contact with lay people has brought its own
unique kinds of distractions and concerns, and that the astounding array of choices and necessary
attachments of the modern world can and do all lead monks to give up their traditional lives of
vows, discipline, and celibacy. Lastly, Khenpo Namdak’s references to a time when this was not
the case reflects the underlying religio-cultural nostalgia so prevalent in today’s Tibetan
worldview, especially as it applies to the history of monastic practice.
Conclusions
If it seems I have painted a somewhat dim picture of contemporary monasticism in the
Tibetan communities of north India—a picture of monks wandering the streets with blatant
disregard for monastic decorum and the sanctity of their vows—I may have misled the reader. I
56
Interview 13.
42
should note here that nearly all of the monks I spoke to demonstrated all of the qualities
traditionally expected of monks: warmth, friendliness, contentment, and most important,
enthusiastic interest in their spiritual pursuits. The earnest sincerity evident in all of these
conversations demonstrates, I believe, a real and genuinely felt commitment to the monastic life.
As long as this sincerity is kept alive at the heart of contemporary monasticism, it will continue to
aid Tibetans and others in the preservation of Buddhist ideals and practice in the world. The large
numbers of monks born and raised in Tibet that continue to fill the monasteries of north India
and Nepal each year, who most often demonstrate a particular tenacity and strength of purpose in
their religiosity, will likely continue to ensure that same sincerity and genuine commitment in the
monasteries of the diaspora community.
As we have seen, Tibetan Buddhist monasticism is a highly traditional institution that,
since 1959, has undergone a continual encounter with the modern world outside of Tibet, shaping
its present dynamic in myriad ways. Most significantly, the mixed blessing of greater access to
modern technological advancements and opportunities for wider secular education have
broadened the minds of Tibetan monks while simultaneously introducing them to lifestyles
outside the “bounded” sphere of their traditional, spiritual way of life. This process of contact and
dialogue with modernity, over the past fifty years, has tested the strength, resolve, and
perseverance of monks and monastic communities. Though it has had its ups and downs, the fact
that monasticism continues in its present form, both within and outside of Tibet, is a testament to
the commitment Tibetans have toward preserving traditional religion as it is embodied in their
monks and monasteries. It is hoped that this commitment will continue into the future.
In the same way, it would be a gross oversight not to note that Tibetan monasticism itself
has in turn exercised its own influence on the modern world, in sometimes surprising
ways. There are now Tibetan monasteries in perhaps the least expected of places, including Nova
Scotia, Scotland, New York and South America. Monks and nuns routinely tour the U.S. and
Europe, offering teaching seminars on Buddhist thought and practice, performing traditional
43
sacred dance and creating sand mandalas, and attending protests and demonstrations for Tibetan
freedom. And, when the most visible and immediately recognizable symbol of Tibetans, His
Holiness the Dalai Lama, is routinely asked by baffled reporters, “Your Holiness, who are you?,”
his most consistent reply is, “A simple monk.”
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Acknowledgements
I am indebted to the selfless kindness, generosity, and aid of many people who supported
me throughout my research. First and foremost, I thank the faculty of the 2003 Emory Tibetan
Studies in Dharamsala program: Geshe Pema Dorje, Geshe Tenzin Sherab, Dr. Tara Doyle, Tara
Plochoki, and William Edelglass, without whose constant personal and academic guidance, and
friendship, this paper would not have been possible. I am especially grateful to Dr. Tara Doyle
for her advisorship, her wisdom, and her gracious approval of extra research funding for the
extensive translation my research required, as well as to Dakpa Kalden, my translator. Without
Kalden’s tireless translation work, advice, sense of humor at the most needed moments (!) and
personal encouragement, I would have been quite hopeless. In addition, I am grateful to Jangchub
Puntsok, a dear friend and western monk at IBD Sarah, for continually taking time out of his busy
schedule of study and debate to chase down monks and translate interviews, and for fuelling me
with inspiration. I also am grateful to Thamdin Wangyal, another IBD Sarah student, for his
translation help. I wish to extend deep thanks to my parents, Tina and Bob Nelson, and my sister,
Robin, for their gracious and unflagging support.
Lastly, I owe deep thanks to all the monks who took time to speak with me, for they were
my original and constant inspiration to undertake this research. Their smiles, laughter,
enthusiasm, encouragement, friendship and wisdom will remain in my heart.
This paper is dedicated to His Holiness the Dalai Lama, His Holiness the Gyalwa
Karmapa, and to all the monks and nuns in Tibet, India, and throughout the world who continue
to practice with the genuine devotion, sincerity, and compassion that is the heart of
the monastic calling.
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Sources Cited
1.) Goldstein, Melvyn A., & Kapstein, Matthew T. Buddhism in Contemporary Tibet.
c. 1998. University of California Press, Los Angeles.
2.) Gethin, Rupert. The Foundations of Buddhism. c.1998. Oxford University Press, UK.
3.) Sherabling Monastery brochure: “Sherabling: Seat of the XII Tai Situpa.”
(no author or copyright information given).
4.) Website of the Tibetan government-in-exile: www.tibet.com.
Interviews
Translation for all interviews at Sherabling, Drepung Loseling Guesthouse, and Jangchup
Choling (unless otherwise indicated) by Dakpa Kalden.
Translation for interview with Kelsang Rinpoche, IBD Sarah campus, by Thamdin Wangyal
Translation for other interviews at IBD Sarah campus by Jangchub Puntsok.
(Information listed in order of: name, title/position, place of interview, date, birthplace of
interviewee, and age.)
1.)
2.)
3.)
4.)
Tenzin Chokden. Monk. Sherabling, 4/21/03. Sikkim. age 33.
Karma Gyurme. Monk. Sherabling, 4/21/03. Tibet – Kham. age 82.
Migmar Sherpa. Monk. Sherabling, 4/21/03. Darjeeling, India. age 15.
Sonam Phuntsok. Layperson, Accountant. Sherabling. 4/21/03. (interview in English).
Musoorie, India. age ?
5.) Gyalton Rinpoche. Monk, tulku. Sherabling. 4/22/03. (interview in English). Sikkim. age 22.
6.) Pongrik Rinpoche. Monk, tulku. Sherabling. 4/22/03. New Zealand. age 11.
7.) Karma Ramjor. Monk. Sherabling. 4/22/03. Nepal. age 15.
8.) Karma Damchod. Monk. Sherabling. 4/22/03. Kinnaur, India. age 22.
9.) Karma Chime Dorje. Monk. Sherabling. 4/22/03. Nepal. age 20.
10.) Pema Rigzin. Monk, discipline master. Sherabling. 4/22/03. Kinnaur, India. age 26.
11.) Tsultrim Tharchin. Monk. Sherabling. 4/22/03. Bir, India. age 22.
12.) Gelek Samten. Monk. Sherabling. 4/23/03. Bir, India. age 31.
13.) Khenpo Tsultrim Namdak. Monk, Abbot of shedra. Sherabling. 4/23/03 & 4/25/03.Tibet –
Kham. age 36.
14.) Karma Tenzin. Monk. Sherabling. 4/23/03. Nepal. age 24.
15.) Karma Drupgyu Tendar. Monk. Sherabling. 4/23/03. Nepal. age 12.
16.) Yeshe Wangchuk. Monk. Sherabling. 4/23/03. Sikkim. age 20.
17.) Karma Chonzi. Monk. Sherabling. 4/23/03. Tibet – Kham. age 39.
18.) Pema Gyaltsen. Monk, shedra student. Sherabling. 4/24/03. Tibet – Kham. age 29.
19.) Karma Samdup. Monk, shedra student. Sherabling. 4/24/03. Tibet – Kham. age 23.
20.) Karma Chime Dorje. Monk, shedra student. Sherabling. 4/24/03. Tibet – T.A.R. age ?
21.) Tshewang Dakpa. Monk, administrative supervisor. Sherabling. 4/24/03. Tibet – Kham.
age ?
46
22.) Karma Thinley Kunkhyab. Monk, shedra student. Sherabling. 4/24/03. Tibet – T.A.R.
age 24.
23.) Karma Tenzin Gyurme. Monk, shedra student. Sherabling. 4/25/03. Tibet – T.A.R. age ?
24.) Karma Norbu Gyaltsen. Monk, chant master. Sherabling. 4/25/03. Kinnaur, India. age 25.
25.) Karma Pema Wangchuk. Monk, shedra student. Sherabling. 4/25/03. Bhutan. age 23.
26.) Kungha Gyaltsen. Layperson, artist. Sherabling. 4/25/03. Tibet – T.A.R age 26.
27.) Gyaltsen Phuntsok. Monk, senior shedra student. Sherabling. 4/25/03. Ladakh. age 38.
(Interview translated by Gyalton Rinpoche).
28.) Kunsang Gyatso. Layperson, Tibetan instructor. Sherabling. 4/25/03. Ladakh. age 20.
29.) Geshe Thubten Kunkhyen. Monk, geshe. Drepung Loseling guesthouse. 4/29/03. South
India. age ?
30.) Nyima. Monk. Drepung Loseling guesthouse. 4/29/03. South India. age 36.
31.) Geshe Dakpa Jampa. Monk, geshe. Drepung Loseling Guesthouse. 4/29/03 & 4/30/03.
Manali, India. age 33.
32.) Geshe Dakpa Tenzin. Monk, geshe, guesthouse manager. Drepung Loseling guesthouse.
4/30/03 & 5/1/03. Simla, India. age 38.
33.) Yeshe Thamgye. Monk, cook. Jangchub Choling. 5/2/03. Place of birth ? age 34.
34.) Lobsang Jinpa. Monk. Jangchub Choling. 5/2/03. Tibet – Kham. age 36.
35.) Tenzin Rabsel. Monk. Jangchub Choling. 5/2/03. Tibet – Kham. age 36.
36.) Kelsang Rinpoche. Monk, tulku. IBD Sarah campus. 5/10/03. Tibet – Amdo. age 22.
37.) Lobsang Phuntsok. Monk. IBD Sarah campus. 5/10/03. Tibet – Kham. age 33.
38.) Lobsang Damchod. Monk. IBD Sarah campus. 5/11/03. Tibet – Kham. age 24.
39.) Lobsang Nyima. Monk. IBD Sarah campus. 5/12/03. Mon, India. age 26.
40.) Tenzin Naljor. Monk. IBD Sarah campus. 5/13/03. Kollegal, India. age 20.
Illustrations: Photos taken by the author and by Dakpa Kalden.
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48