In Exile From the Land of Snows

by John Avedon

  The need to thoroughly test the authenticity of the Nechung kuden had, for centuries, been a critical concern of the Tibetan government. As the most delicate policies of state, both domestic and foreign, were involved with the oracle, the possibility of a leak, either from a malignant spirit taking possession (and subsequently relating information via another medium) or from the medium himself retaining some trace memory of the trance, was ever-present. So, too, was the danger of a garbled or mistaken transmission. To protect against the latter, the level of the medium’s trance was closely observed, a complete possession, inducing unconsciousness, being the ideal state. Such a possession could occur only if the 72,000 psychic channels upon which, according to tantric theory, consciousness is mounted in the human body were clear of all obstructions. In such a case trance would be undergone swiftly, continuing without fluctuations or other irregularities. Though Lobsang Jigme’s trances revealed him to be a very pure “vessel,” the next task, that of checking whether or not it was in fact Dorje Drakden who possessed him, required, following preliminary observations, three levels of tests.

  Initially, four signs of Dorje Drakden’s immense power were sought: swelling of the medium’s body up to two inches, effortless support of the heavy costume, ringing of the golden bells on the helmet’s top and shuddering of the mirror on the chest from the increased heartbeat. The character of the possessing spirit was then observed. Dorje Drakden’s cham was particular to him, as was the fact that his fierce, prideful attitude gave way to humility only if the Dalai Lama, his picture or an article of his clothing was present. Otherwise the spirit minister demanded complete subjugation from all those in attendance. With these factors present, three categories of tests, known as outer, inner and secret, were undertaken. In the outer test, the medium was presented during trance with sealed boxes and requested to name their contents. This exam was considered easy, as the majority of spirits were believed to possess a minor form of clairvoyance. It was followed by the inner test, in which the possessing spirit was requested to quote verbatim prophecies given by the Protector on specific dates in the past. With hundreds of prophecies on file, all imparted in Dorje Drakden’s poetic, often cryptic style, this test was virtually impossible to pass if the Protector himself was not present. The two tests comprising the secret category, however, were believed definitive. Prior to the trance the kuden’s breath was checked to make sure that it had no odor. During trance it was examined again. If Dorje Drakden was in possession, the breath would invariably have a strong scent, similar to that of alcohol but described as actually being that of nectar. At the moment Padmasambhava had converted the Five Kings, in the form of the eight-year-old novice, to the Dharma, he had anointed the child’s tongue with a few drops of nectar. Its odor was maintained by the spirit as a sign that his vows were being upheld. While exacting allegiance, Padmasambhava had also placed the blazing tip of his dorje on the head of the kneeling child. As the trance ends and the thickly padded helmet is quickly removed before the kuden chokes, Dorje Drakden’s possession is revealed in the well-defined imprint of a dorje, clearly visible for a matter of minutes, on the crown of the medium’s head.

  Successfully passing all of the tests, Lobsang Jigme was publicly proclaimed, early in 1945, to be the new medium of Tibet’s State Oracle. On the day of his investiture he took part in an elaborate ritual at Nechung Monastery after which the abbot conducted him to the kuden’s personal residence, a large well-appointed building within the monastic complex. Here, cared for by a carefully chosen staff, he spent most of his time engaged in the practice of deity yoga, pursuing meditation techniques which enabled him to enter trance with consistently less discomfort. Collecting the ample salary given to all Nechung kudens by the government, was treated with the utmost respect, on a par with that accorded to high lamas. Most rewarding of all, for the first time since the age of ten, Lobsang Jigme continued to enjoy good health.

  The position of Nechung kuden, however, was neither easy nor even necessarily desirable. It held the potential of a high as well as an ignominious fate. Many kudens had suffered the later; only a few had achieved the former. The very first kuden, appointed at the monastery’s founding in the seventeenth century, had been executed when, through possession by lesser spirits, secret government information had been revealed to the public. Though no such drastic measure had occurred since, two of the three kudens preceding Lobsang Jigme had been disgraced, fired from their posts, after their meditation practice had deteriorated to the point of interfering with the coherence of their trances. Shakya Yarpel, though, the renowned kuden prior to them, had been so beloved by the Thirteenth Dalai Lama for the clarity of his possessions that he had been accorded honors above even those granted the Prime Minister and Cabinet, actually being conveyed when he traveled in a pep jam, the gold palanquin normally reserved solely for Dalai Lamas and Regents. Aware of the difficulty of the post, Lobsang Namgyal, Lobsang Jigme’s predecessor, had run away on being singled out during a trance of the Gadong Oracle as the new Nechung kuden. Nonetheless, unable to prevent his destiny, he had been possessed by Dorje Drakden and, until his death (attributed by some to the immense strain placed on his heart by possession), accepted the role.

  Lobsang Jigme’s favorable response to the post was augmented by a sense of personal affinity with Dorje Drakden himself. For the first three years following his recognition, on the night preceding a scheduled trance, the same odd event would inevitably occur. Past midnight, a loud banging would be heard in Lobsang Jigme’s room, waking both him and his attendants from sleep. Unable to find a source for the commotion, the aides would turn to the kuden, who by then would be staring at the door and laughing. After some time, he agreed to relate what others heard but only he saw. Scores of small monks, no more than two feet tall, would appear in a jovial mood, and rushing altogether through the doorway, collide with one another and fall to the floor. Those who reached his bed brazenly stared at him and then burst into infectious laughter. It was clear, Lobsang Jigme felt, that these visits were being paid as a welcome of sorts to the new kuden by the followers of Dorje Drakden, due to enter him in trance in a few hours’ time.

  On only two occasions a year did Lobsang Jigme experience serious discomfort in his occupation. At these times, two of the Five Kings, the superiors of Dorje Drakden and Shinjachen, would come with the ministers and very briefly take possession of the Nechung and Gadong mediums. In the case of the Nechung kuden, Trinley Gyalpo, the Northern King of Action, would follow Dorje Drakden into the medium’s body. This happened on the second day of the first month and again on the twenty-fifth day of the third month. Initially, Dorje Drakden took possession. Then, within “the stomach,” as it was metaphorically phrased, of the Renowned Immutable One, Trinley Gyalpo would manifest himself. Without the intervening energy of Dorje Drakden to modulate the current of White Pehar, as Trinley Gyalpo was often called, the medium would immediately die. So much was made clear during the single minute—and sometimes only a few seconds—of possession. At the moment of entry, the medium’s body, already swollen from Dorje Drakden, would become rigid, arms and legs outstretched, blood gushing from his nostrils. Those present would quickly offer a scarf in honor of Pehar Gyalpo, after which the Northern King would depart. Dorje Drakden remained in possession while the blood stopped flowing and the body was restored, and then he too would leave.

  Following his appointment, Lobsang Jigme’s duties became increasingly crucial to Tibet. The Dalai Lama was ten years old when the new medium took over and, to begin with, things went smoothly. As the Dalai Lama himself recalled, the relationship with Dorje Drakden, his personal protector, was on a most intimate footing. “In one respect the responsibility of the Dalai Lama and that of Nechung are almost of an equal status but in different fields,” he reflected. “My task is peaceful; his is forceful. From another aspect, though, the Dalai Lama is like a commander and Nechung similar to a lieutenant or subordinate. So the Dalai Lama never bows down to Nechung, b
ut Nechung bows to the Dalai Lama. In any case, as a friend to a friend, Nechung is very close to the Dalai Lama. When I was very small, it was touching. Nechung liked me a lot and he would take care of me. Suppose I was not dressed properly when the trance took place. Once the trance had begun, Nechung would literally arrange my shirt, fix my robe and so on. Then later, during my childhood, the relationship between the Cabinet and the oracle deteriorated. During every trance when Nechung was asked about the welfare of the Dalai Lama, he used to respond enthusiastically with a positive statement, but when he commented on the government’s policies and concerns, he always gave a big ‘if’ and was sarcastic.”

  During the late 1940s, prior to the Dalai Lama’s majority, corruption in the Regency’s administration was such that Tibet’s protector overtly opposed the government. On one particularly dramatic occasion, the Cabinet, aware of its precarious position with Dorje Drakden, requested Shinjachen, in the person of the Gadong medium, to intercede with him on their behalf concerning a specific point. Shinjachen complied, but the moment he had completed making the request for the Cabinet, Dorje Drakden struck him hard and both trances instantly ended. The Dalai Lama continued: “You see, dealing with Nechung is not easy. It needs time and patience. He is very rigid, almost like a great man of the old society. He is not talkative, he’s reserved. Very much reserved. He does not bother with minor things. He takes a tremendous interest only in the bigger issues.”

  Regardless of the country’s own internal decline, Dorje Drakden did not neglect to warn of the external threat from China. The Dalai Lama vividly recollected the first such indication, which occurred in 1945. “On that occasion,” he related, “when Nechung was questioned concerning the welfare of Tibet, he didn’t say a thing. Instead, he faced eastward and began shaking his head up and down. It was quite frightening, because for an ordinary person the helmet would have broken his neck. At least fifteen times he did this—very violently—and then the trance went off.” In 1945, no one in Tibet imagined that Chinese aggression, driven off more than three decades earlier, would soon reconstitute itself. In 1948—two years before the invasion—Dorje Drakden directly warned that in the Year of the Iron Tiger—1950—Tibet would face extreme danger. He instructed that a specific shabten or religious activity be undertaken, one component of which was the construction of a large chorten at a designated spot. Such acts could not eliminate the threat of conquest, but it was believed, as part of the Protector’s efforts, that they would deter the invasion for a good number of years, during which time the situation might improve on its own, so that when the onslaught did come, it would do so with considerably less destructive force. However, in the self-seeking climate of the time, this and other advice was ignored. As the invasion approached, Dorje Drakden repeatedly alluded to the need for the Dalai Lama to take temporal power. Finally, in November 1950, following Lhasa’s first word of the attack, Shinjachen insisted that Tenzin Gyatso take control. Confused and defeated, the government had to agree.

  In 1951, Lobsang Jigme inexplicably fell ill once more. This time, he contracted arthritis, due, perhaps, to physical stress from repeated possessions. Soon all of his major joints were so inflamed that he could no longer walk and had to be supported by two helpers. The doctors at the medical colleges could not effect a cure. Again, he lived in daily pain—save for those occasions when he underwent trance. In the meantime, Dorje Drakden continued to use him, giving the vital instruction that the Dalai Lama go to India in 1956 to forge the first contacts with Nehru and the Indian government, on which, subsequently, the Tibetan refugees’ survival was to depend. Then, in 1958, a year before the Dalai Lama’s flight, the Choekyong prophesied: “In this great river where there is no ford, I, Spirit, have the method to place a wooden boat.” His meaning was clear; the Dalai Lama would have to flee, guided by him through the impassable “river” of Chinese troops.

  In the early hours of March 20, 1959, Lobsang Jigme woke, with the rest of the city, to the sounds of the Chinese bombardment. Two miles east of Lhasa, Sera Monastery was attacked, but four miles west, Drepung remained unmolested. As the evening of the twentieth approached, Nechung Monastery was hit by stray bullets from fighting near the PLA’s Nordulingka camp, little over a mile away. Concerned for the kuden’s safety, those in charge suggested that he move up the hill to Drepung, where he would not be so isolated. While the monks were in prayer, Lobsang Jigme and one companion went before the statue of Hayagriva in the main assembly hall. It had been this wrathful form that Padmasambhava adapted to subdue Pehar Gyalpo. Hence, the deity was employed by all Nechung kudens to invoke the Protector by visualizing themselves as such, within a celestial mansion, just before possession. Placing two balls of barley paste in a sacred vessel, one with a message to go to Drepung, the other to stay at Nechung, they watched as, in the midst of the appropriate ritual, the note with Drepung written on it came out. That night, in darkness, the Nechung kuden made his way, assisted by attendants, up the hillside. What was normally a half-hour walk took almost three times as long, since the PLA periodically shot bright flares over the mountainside, forcing the party to hide behind large boulders. The journey was successful, though, and the next morning Lobsang Jigme awoke to find Drepung in a feverish pitch of activity. Rifles, mortars and ammunition had been delivered, as they were to all the major monasteries around Lhasa, from the Potala arsenal. It was assumed that Chinese tanks would arrive to shell the cloister at any moment. Cut off from Lhasa by artillery and small-arms fire throughout the valley, the abbots of Drepung requested that Lobsang Jigme go into trance, permitting them to consult Dorje Drakden on the best course to follow. The trance was conducted, and in their request the abbots noted that because Sera had already been shelled they now feared Drepung would be as well. Dorje Drakden replied that if the Chinese were unprovoked, they would not fire a single cannon shot at the monastery. Whatever course they followed, he indicated, within three days all the fighting would be over. (Both statements were accurate: the morning of March 23 dawned with the revolt suppressed and Drepung unharmed.)

  Before the end of the trance, the senior attendant of the Nechung kuden stepped forward to ask Dorje Drakden what should be done for the medium himself. Dorje Drakden replied that after Lobsang Jigme recovered from possession, he should leave Drepung immediately and begin walking south. He was to follow the same route the Dalai Lama had taken. The Protector guaranteed that nothing untoward would happen, and then, wrapping blessed barley grains in a white scarf which he gave to the attendants, he instructed them to burn a single grain whenever difficulty was encountered. Whatever thoughts occurred to them at the moment, he said, they should immediately act on.

  When Lobsang Jigme regained consciousness, he looked up from the bed on which he had been placed and saw the small group of monks weeping over him. He inquired if shells had fallen on Drepung and if so whether or not any of them had been hurt. They replied in the negative. “Then why are you all crying?” he asked. After conveying Dorje Drakden’s message, the senior attendant said, “This is the Choekyong’s advice, but how can we follow it? You are a sick man. During the celebration of the Buddha Jayanti in 1956 you went by car through India and even under those conditions suffered tremendously. Now we have to walk and ride for weeks. How can we possibly cope with this problem?” As Lobsang Jigme had no answer for them, one and all lapsed into silence, pondering Dorje Drakden’s other statement: the stunning news of the Dalai Lama’s flight from the Norbulingka—unknown to Tibetans and Chinese alike until the following week.

  Lobsang Jigme’s own escape began the same day. In extreme pain, he spent two months walking from Drepung, through the heart of the fighting in Lhoka, to India. On numerous occasions he just missed capture by the PLA, who were consistently delayed by a series of unexpected events. After arriving safely in the NEFA and being processed through Missamari, he went to see the Dalai Lama in his temporary quarters at Birla House in Mussoorie. Thereafter, he took up his duties once more as a medium, a
longside the Gadong kuden, also in exile.

  Six out of Nechung Monastery’s 115 monks managed to escape Tibet. In 1962, Nechung Rinpoché, the monastery’s abbot, fled, bringing with him the most precious vessel of the Protector, originally stored at Samye, thirteen centuries before. A few years later Dr. Yeshi Dhonden succeeded in curing Lobsang Jigme of his incapacitating arthritis and by 1983, with Nechung Monastery’s two most important figures actively at work, dozens of young monks had been ordained and a new monastery built across from the Library of Tibetan Works and Archives in Gangchen Kyishong. Here, once more, the daily invocations of Dorje Drakden proceeded with a full complement of monks—much of the refugees’ progress being attributed by them to the ongoing guidance of their Protector over a quarter century of exile.

  IV

  9

  Tibet Enslaved

  1959–1965

  The following order is hereby proclaimed.

  Most of the kalons of the Tibet local government and the upper-strata reactionary clique colluded with imperialism, assembled rebellious bandits, carried out rebellion, ravaged the people, put the Dalai Lama under duress, tore up the Seventeen-Point Agreement on Measures for the Peaceful Liberation of Tibet and, on the night of March 19, directed the Tibetan local army and rebellious elements to launch a general offensive against the People’s Liberation Army garrison in Lhasa. Such acts which betray the motherland and disrupt unification are not allowed by law. In order to safeguard the unification of the country and national unity, the decision is that from this day the Tibet local government is dissolved.