what makes a person great
foo
a child trying the best they know how,
or a master of a thousand worlds?
it would seem that anyone who can
consider themselves so worthless that
they are not even worthy of desires,
must have already traveled a long way.
can you imagine someone who has no
desire for that which they have not seen.
Geir
they're what they are not.
I can imagine, and talk to their victims and see their testimonies like
at American Buddha. I guess that's not moving because fraud is stronger
than veracity, and the truth only emerges after a long period of
covering over by fraud. Let the children play. That's the fate of the
world and sometimes those children do cruel and unnatural things to
others like the frauds' list at American Buddha testifies to. All the
buddhist hierarchy almost goes up for critique on American Buddha. Few
go unscathed. All the favorites of ARBT, Sogyal, Seagal, Jetsunma,
Trungpa just come out trampled and steam-rolled like Chinese rolls. Who
gives a darn ! Kalachakra will come when his time is here and not
before or after.
foo
"Geir" <geir...@aol.com> wrote in message
news:1146552230....@v46g2000cwv.googlegroups.com...
Geir, which American Buddha site is that?
For a long time i wondered if i was an apprentice without a teacher,
but i know this is not true, and i imagine it is the same for everyone.
There are invisible teachers, whether we are aware of it or not,
and there are times and places for everything.
I do not think that any true master of any kind wants anyone idolizing
them in any way, even if it is in the name of some higher power.
Besides, what good is it if someone tells you what to do, and then
you do it, if eventually you will forget what they have told you.
One cannot force oneself to become a Buddha, or can they?
Perhaps there is a way, but the thought of it makes me feel overwhelmed
by the amount of experience one must have to go through to cause
a lasting change, for each integral transformation in one's being.
How many difficult roads lay before us, before we can see.
If it was easy, would we be here, over and over again?
Life may be a process of seeing what one really is, if that is the case
there must be many so-called adepts who are surprised to find out
that they are not what they imagined themselves to be.
Therefore i think that life can be somewhat of an embarrassment,
especially if you manage to convince many that you are something
that you are not (yet).
Right now i feel tired, tired of fighting, tired of struggling, tired of
re-living the same old patterns over and over again.
I don't feel the answer is to join anything, to try and escape from
anything i am, but simply to realize a single moment of peace,
just for a breath of clarity i will trade all my doings, all my plans.
foo
a most painful and excruciating death
and you shall watch your parents suffer
and see your children tortured
and it will tear your heart and mind and soul apart
until there is nothing left of you
and that is only the beginning
Geir
all answers as the frauds illuminating the sky of deceit of Tibetan
Buddhism and thus clears the air of them. Just they need to get some
coverage worldwide to blow open all this shame. If you have trouble
finding it and getting it online, I can find it easily for you. Why
should frauds get mileage ? They should be dunked under. They should
get what they do to others themselves and not pitied like you are doing
on ARBT, you who are lstening in and are not without bad consciences on
this count. Culprits ! Do us a favour foo, do away with these guys, eh
! No prisoners !
foo
i'm working on it.
what did one of those scumbags say?
Geir
others also came over and tried tog et support. They were down on
Sogyal and Sakya Trizin. Trungpa's heart disciple infected wilfully
with AIDS and was sad afterwards that his Vajra Practise didn't fend it
off !!! Seagal's an ass. I mean what's with the questions ? The data is
all on the site. Look at it, and talk about it. Not only is the site
rife with the testimonies but that site is the fountain head for a very
vast and wide-sweeeping redefining of Tibetan Buddhism or if that is
swamped by it and doesn't survive, well then just Kalachakra,
prophecied to survive a great end of world cleanup like we're seeing.
Anyways there's been a consensus to stop ABOL Amercian Buddha from
being on the net so that spells out foul play. That spells out what
Kalachakra says about when forces ally against it. The news about real
info about real truth is thus covered up and that spells out
Kalachakra's coming because it's when all light is blotted out and no
hope is left from the frauds' influence, is when the Kalachakra comes
hitting back and instaurs a reign of truth. Looks like Kalachakra's
time has come. It's time to uncover what the Kalacharka really is and
all the fraud that's made in it's name across the world. All of
Kalachakra in the world is false.
Geir
scared. Uhh ! Yeah ! Tibetan Buddhism. Bleah ! Tibetan Buddhism has got
to get it's act together. If not it'll be pure Kalachakra. The thing is
these people respond to being given exposure lke now and here. They're
like reserves being sent to the front. They're like ballistic missiles
being taken out of mothballs. The stuff on American Buddha is like
dynamite, it's like radium, high grade nuclear fissile bomb-matter.
Know any Tibetan on that ABOL-list that wants to face the music ?
They're cowering under tables right now. Won't see much of them on this
one. This is Tibetan Buddhism unting-time, not time for posturing by
frauds and fakoe-lamas like ABOL lists and denounces. When this kind of
stuff comes out, they hide big-time. Sogyal transferred his main temple
to France from England when the court case against him for paternity in
England came out. He's too freaked to go over there any more. The
mother of the girl goes to his teachings and yells at the crowd that
he's a fraud. The victims like at ABOL's link, respond to people
reflecting their pain. They're like abuse victims in the hoospital
getting visits and signs of support. They are getting this like salve
on wounds. It's a question of time working for them and it's whittling
away at the merit that's really small of those freak-gurus of Tibetan
Buddhism. The real discipline of Tibetan Buddhism is seeping out of it
due to thse people criticizing it and they must be incarnations of
deities because theyt're preserving Tibetan Buddhism by purifying and
kicking out quack lamas. The time of the searing coming of Kalachakra
is just what is happening and the whipping of frauds; sending htem
packing is also part of that smoking plume of Kalachakra meteoric rise
and coming to our suffering world. Kalachakra is going to bring peace
by force to this world. It's going to solve the world's problems and
bring all culprits to justice. Kalachakra will bring about it's tough
justice, it's no buck-passer : this Kalachakra. Scoundrels. Go hide
quickly. Or you'll be toast and Kalachakra will catch you along with
the others. This is compact but it's necessary to clean up the mess
left by ignorants using Tibetan Buddhism for their agendas and ABOL is
on the first line for that. ABOL needed me and I needed ABOL. We're a
match made for each other.
foo
nature will do what is necessary,
even human nature will correct itself,
whatever it takes.
the source of everything remains the same,
knowing that, what is there really to do or not do.
Geir
testimonies against him by up to three women; called "SUCK MY TRIZIN"
on ABOL. That'll be the introduction to the mirror function.
foo
> I'm going to make a site that's mirror to ABOL. Sakya Trizin has
> testimonies against him by up to three women; called "SUCK MY TRIZIN"
> on ABOL. That'll be the introduction to the mirror function.
>
ok lol
Evelyn Ruut
> I'm going to make a site that's mirror to ABOL. Sakya Trizin has
> testimonies against him by up to three women; called "SUCK MY TRIZIN"
> on ABOL. That'll be the introduction to the mirror function.
Teachers are human. As simple as that. Expecting them to be more than
human is a foolish mistake. What they do have is special knowledge of
techniques to reach our own higher spiritual levels. That is all. I
don't know if these women are lying or if they are telling the truth, nor
does anyone else. But a good rule of thumb is not to involve sexually with
someone you expect to teach you spiritual practices. It is unethical for
them, and not good for the women either.
--
Best Regards,
Evelyn
(to reply to me personally, remove 'sox')
Geir
expects to teach you spiritually. Hey, girl ! You need to be two y'
know ? One could say the sxsame you just said by inverting the subject
(in other words =) : "One should not involve sexually with someone who
expects you to teach them"
The problem is that Tibetans don't do this with Tibetan women just with
some hippy girls passing by. If westerners did it, they'd have been
junked a long time ago, already.
It's like Westerners who do all the stuff in Thailand that they'd do
time for in their own country and with their own women.
Plus Sakya Trizin is Tibetan Buddhism's # 3 lama after the Panchen.
I haven't heard of the number three Catholic head priest being caught
in a Clinton-like pose like Sak Trizin is caught up in here.
I'm going to put it up on the web anyways.... Not just because of Sakya
Trizin; but also due to the Trungpa scam, the Osel scam adn all that;
the Sogyal scam et al. and the whole holey rest of them, including
Seagal, Jetsunma and madman Penor, just to mention a few (there are
lots and lots of others...Jamyang Khyentse anyone ?). You've been a
traitor, Ev, seeing the people who came to ARBT were well received by
you, whereas you're clearly bad-mouthing them now. Take Mary Finnegan
that you were treating with utter respect and favour just a few years
ago right here on this very ng. Is this what Rotary teaches you ? "Stab
them in the back". Has Mary Finnegan and the others two ladies been
back to you about this ? The Carreons are still on the web and they
don't want to coverup all the messes. A lot of people don't want to
cover up the messes. Why are you so sick Ruut ? Why is there just no
good an bad in your warped world Evelyn ?
I'm stretching out my hand to those that testify on ABOL and want
justice. Your voice has been heard and the time for accountancy has
finally come after your sitting in Purgatory for all these many years.
Before you die, now has come the time for paying up. Now is the time
for your complaints to be brought to justice and for the Carreons to
carry you on to the light. Now is the time for us all to see the light
through you and for all the culprits to be brought to heel. This has
been prophecied by Mahakala and Kalachakra. Now it's not prophecy :
it's reality come true.
Evelyn Ruut's objections are not to be taken into account for a minute
as she's partisan because of the Karmapa issue and doesn't give a fig
aboout any of your sufferings being only interested in furthering her
political agenda. I'm talking Buddhism and doing good and avoiding
evil. What has been done to you victims of Tibetan Buddhist masters'
evil deeds, is not good and this is a case for discipline within
Buddhism; no political matters accepted in this : this is only about
morality and ethics and avoiding, not causing suffering. Those that
cause suffering willfully are not right: they are bad.
Anyways if there's any more trouble with supporters of one side, then
the heavy artillery from the carreon site can always be brought to the
fore. Has anyone looked up the garbage about Seagal and the crazy stuff
he's been saying ? Has anyone looked at the stuff Jetsunma says about
her hair-styling appointements ? let's get real. Buddhism was not this
in Tibet and the time is not for making this substitute Buddhism that's
come up recently to prevail for one more day. All the fake and rotten
things in Tibetan Buddhism must be destroyed and cleaned out from the
root up.
Evelyn Ruut
Hold your horses, Geir.
I am in touch with Mary Finnigan all the time.
We are dear and close personal friends of many years.
She is a dharma sister.
I agree with you 100% about Tibetan Buddhism needing to be cleaned up.
There are sick human beings in every religion, and those who take advantage
of students sexually, definitely need to be exposed. I have done my part in
that fight, and if you had a single clue, you would know that is true.
Also, you have no idea who my teachers are, but I can tell you that there
has never been a single whisper about them.
Drat. I swore I wouldn't get into a shitfest with you, you are one sick
puppy, Geir.
Geir
her all the way down to the line and she's a BBC journalist so no
monkey-business with her, she's into real-time business.
As for me, there's no holding back now : I've already put Sakya Trizin
on my site and it's up and running. It's maybe still on the French text
part of my site, but it's already there for all to see and I'm just
preparing the English leisurely. If Sakya Trizin, Seagal, Sogyal,
Jetsunma, Penor, Khyentse, Trungpa (RIP) or Osel (RIP II) or anyone
else on the hit-list want to make deals, make amends, or whatever ...
they can do so, but the thing is on the fast lane to editing, so it's
way too late all.
I got a 120 % increase of hits (from one a day to 12 !!!) on my site
the day it went on. I'm just making a mirror to the ABOL site and it
can be the first of a string of mmirrors by others. Tibetan Buddhism
must die in it's stench and be reborn in it's rose-perfumed form.
That'll be Tantra as prophecied.
Geir
not soiling our holy Buddha Dharma can't tolerate that fraudulent
crooks pollute the whole thing for us.
Sakya Trizin, Seagal, Sogyal,
Jetsunma, Penor, Khyentse, Trungpa (RIP) or Osel (RIP II) et al. should
be roundly denounced on all media by Buddhists who want to save the
soul of Buddhism.
The means to do it are to seize all opportunities to propte the cause
and among others promote ABOL widely and abolish worldwide smut in
Buddhism. Big new things are now preparing in Tibetan Buddhism because
ABOL carries a lot of reform-minded things about Buddhism. Their's is a
vision of purity of Buddhism that is revolutionnary. And they're still
preserving Tantra instead of destroying it like other Reform-Buddhism
movements have promoted over the years returning to some fictious
Theravada pseudo-Christian view.
If people here on ARBT continue to harp against ABOL and against Mary
Finnigan (BBC senior correspondant and reporter) and her co-testifiers,
I'm going to break loose all of hell and also it's neighbouring
realms; because this has gone on for long enough here and in the world.
I'll publish right here (no later than today) the excerpts of Mary's on
Sakya Trizin and the consort-practise he imposed upon her. If that
still hasn't calmed down Evelyn Ruut and her mad rantings, well then
I'll move on to plonk this ng with the excerpts from the "SUCK MY
TRIZIN" section and which include the sections by an alias (that fears
for herself because of it,) and which goes by the name of Amlearning
and which describe Sakya Trizin's sexual habits in details that don't
detract from those that Clinton was subject to in the scandal that
brought him close to destitution from the Presidency.
I'm properly sick and fed up with the madness of idiots not only those
targeted there, but further by those that cover up for them on ngs
wordlwide and that I'm reeady to hound down all over the world until
no one ever stands up to cover up for them anymore. Those of you here
who see anyone saying anything bad about ABOL or the testimonies
against the corruption of fake frauds in Buddhism should not only
denounce that support but also report it here or to me, so that we
hound down the people and publish the exceprts on whatever media or
forum that those crumby people publish on so as to support those
frauds. The testimony-people like Mary and the others can always weigh
in to prop up their testimonies by coming on live and confirm it viva
voce (personnally). The time of revelation nhas come : the time of
revealing the frauds and their sinful dealings over decades in the name
of virtue and the Buddha. They are the shame not only of Buddhism and
of Mankind. Them and the henchmen that prop them up with their support
on media worldwide. We'll oppose to that bogus army of fraudulent
evils, the army of the good of those that testify to the evil deeds of
those fake quacks, and that bring them to the justice of public
judgement on the virtual highway of web. They won't be judged in a
house of wood and brick, they'll be judged by a celestial jury, by a
sky-court, on the line of the net's web, in the sky, up in the air, in
the clutches of Mahakala, Kalachakra, Jungpo Dulje et al. Public
opinion will devour them like Dorje Palmo devours human flesh. My
writing these lines has already sunk her teeth into their flesh -
"already". "Already now", it's "already" ready and fresh, and the teeth
are "already" gnashing into each other because they've *already* come
through the matter in their jowls and have crunched through it and met
beyond the centre of the mouthful. The terrifying Tantric deities have
all repasted upon their preys and have now started *already* swallowing
them who yell out in terror as they are engulfed down the gullets of
the holy purified and enlightened Protectors that watch over us, seeing
to the expedition of virtue and the quelling of sin in all it's forms,
even the most minute on earth. It's already doing that now. And the
assembled testifying victims are the actors of this and not me. I've
not done anything, just repeated the testimonies of others on the web.
I'm the "Revealor" not the "Composer". I'm just the mercury (the
poisonous mercury - that displeases those that want ecological purity
and don't want chemical revealing of good and evil and the separating
of those two by the chemistry of mercury eating it's way through to
purity and leaving a trail of poison in water, earth and air, behind
it. I know it's painful to see Sakya Trizin reveaed naked like this,
but it comes at that cost, and there's "No Pain, No Gain."), reavealing
the gold that is hidden in the dirt of sin and covering up bny those
evil ones that fill this ng, ARBT here.
Geir
ten-page series to glue people to their screens, you people who are all
rabis scandal-mongers.) I don't want to do it, but the supporting of
frauds and the treading on victims that's going on here is scandalous,
and that's why I answer with scandals and uncovering the scam-creators.
I want all to be happy and peaceful but why should frauds thus take
advantage of that and prance around centre stage ?
Geir a écrit :
Geir
excerpts from those that he messed up the lives of. It'll be the same
if any other of the ABOL-listed frauds are also stood up for. I'm just
waiting for someone to tempt me to do that.
Julian
--
http://ptlslzb87.blogspot.com/
.....................................................................................
*** Posted via a free Usenet account from http://www.teranews.com ***
Geir
Geir
clearing up the morality of Tibetan Buddhism ? I don't want t o replace
the immorality of the frauds by just more immorality. I want this to be
the last, the *end* of immorality.
Julian
Geir wrote:
> It's a long list of ten pages of excerpts.
That's no more than a post-it-note
in the greater scheme of things...
Geir
OK here's the first from Mary Finnigan (BBC correspondant and involved
in other scandals including Sogyal etc...this is Pandora's Box :)
http://www.american-buddha.com/sexual.healing.htm#SEXUAL%20HEALING
RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF MARY FINNIGAN
by Mary Finnigan
(from the London paper, The Guardian, 10/01/95)
The Tibetan lama Sogyal Rimpoche is being sued for $10 million in the
United States by a woman who alleges sexual harassment, coercion and
abuse. Sogyal (Rimpoche is an honorary title meaning Precious Jewel)
has been teaching Buddhist meditation for more than 20 years, with a
world-wide following and meditation centres known as The Rigpa
Fellowship in London, France, Ireland, America and Australia. He is the
author of a best-seller, The Tibetan Book of Living And Dying, and
appeared in Bertolucci's film Little Buddha. The Rigpa Fellowship in
London has issued a letter informing its members that a suit has been
brought against Sogyal Rimpoche. Although he is not a monk, and has not
taken vows of celibacy, he is accused of using his position to obtain
sexual favours. Allegations like these threaten to blow a hole in the
aura of asceticism and austerity surrounding Buddhism in the West.
In the late 1960s, western hippies seeking spiritual enlightenment were
drawn to the Tibetans' exuberant, colourful style. Tibet was seen as a
Buddhist Shangri-La -- a far cry from the reality of a country under
repressive Chinese occupation.
In the seventies, rumours started to circulate about other
globe-trotting Buddhist gurus, who were said to be seducing their
students and behaving more like spiritual barons than spiritual
mentors, exercising _droit du seigneur_ among their followers. The late
Trungpa Rimpoche was one of the first high-ranking Tibetan lamas to
learn English, which he studied at Oxford in the mid-sixties. He
fathered a child while still a monk, discarded his robes and settled in
America, where he gained a reputation as an inspired meditation
teacher. He became a role model for others, including Sogyal Rimpoche.
He was also an alcoholic and a notorious womaniser. He died of drink in
1987. Before his death, he chose Osel Tenzin, an American student as
his Successor. Osel died of Aids, after passing the HIV virus to
several of his students.
Although not all Tibetan teachers are monks - many have renounced their
vows and some are from non-celibate traditions - if a sexual
relationship arises, the imbalance of power in the teacher-pupil
relationship can lay the student open to abuse. Many Buddhists see this
as a contravention of the moral code which frowns on all actions that
cause harm.
At a conference of western Buddhist teachers in India last year, the
Dalai Lama urged delegates not to be afraid of criticising corrupt
gurus. "If you cannot find any other way of dealing with the problem,"
he said, "tell the newspapers."
Last year, an American woman and former pupil of Sogyal decided to
bring a civil case anonymously, and was allowed by the court in Santa
Cruz, California, to use the pseudonym Janice Doe. She says in her suit
that she approached Sogyal at a time of a time of confusion, shortly
after her fathers death. According to the suit, Sogyal told her that
"through devotion and his spiritual instruction, she could purify her
family's karma". The woman alleges he seduced her the next day,
claiming that she would be "strengthened and healed by having sex with
him".
However unconvincing such an argument may sound, the Zen priest Yvonne
Rand, who is counselling Janice Doe, points out that the relationship
between guru and disciple is one of power and submission. People who
seek guidance from a spiritual master want to believe what he or she
tells them.
"Many women who seek out spiritual teachers come from dysfunctional
families. They may have experienced physical and/or sexual abuse, had
no father or bad father relationships, so are looking for a good
father. This creates blind spots in their perception of a teacher."
Rand is emphatic that such high risk relationships rarely benefit both
parties. This opinion is shared by other women who have had sexual
liaisons with their gurus.
"I was touched by his need for me," says one, who had a long
relationship with a lama, "but it was difficult and strange, in no way
a normal relationship. It fuelled my fantasies about having special
qualities, but he debunked them. I felt empowered by him but though he
treated me with respect, I was always aware he had other lovers."
Another woman speaks of the confusion that arose from being first a
humble devotee, then an exalted sexual partner, then back in the ranks
again. "I felt used," she says "He put his needs above mine."
More recently, a young English woman attended a residential retreat.
She thought she had been singled out for special attention only to
discover that she was being invited to join a harem. "At first I was
flattered, and very open and trusting. He encouraged me to fall in love
with him - but I realised that he was toying with me. I noticed several
other young, pretty women going in and out of his apartment, when I
confronted him with this, he dropped me for the rest of the time I was
there."
Did she learn anything from her intimacy with the guru? "He gave me
good advice, but I am left with a hangover of pain and confusion. I
also have doubts about Buddhism. If anything, I have learnt to be more
cautious."
Rand and the British Buddhist teacher Ngakpa Chogyam Rimpoche share the
view that the majority of westerners sign up too quickly with their
gurus and find themselves in a much more intense relationship than they
had bargained for. This is especially true of Tibetan Tantric Buddhism
which, at an advanced level, incorporates sexual union into spiritual
practice.
Rand believes that westerners often fail to make the distinction
between a teacher who helps along the way and a guru who is an
enlightened being.
"Some Tibetan lamas do not see themselves as accountable in the western
sense of the word," says Ngakpa Chogyam. "They get blown off-centre by
too much adulation."
This potential for adulation makes it vital that teachers accept
responsibility for the well being of their students. Responsibility
must include, if not celibacy, then extreme care with sex. According to
psychologist Deborah Clarke, everyone who enters into a spiritual or
therapeutic relationship is vulnerable to exploitation.
"I'd be furious if a guru made a pass at me," she says. "They should
all know by now that people with that sort of power have a moral and
ethical duty not to abuse it."
(This post signed Geir Smith)
Geir a écrit :
Geir
RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF MARY FINNIGAN
From: Mary Finnigan (ma...@pema.demon.co.uk)
Newsgroups: alt.religion.buddhism.tibetan
Date: 1999/10/29
[deleted portion]
It was with these basic concepts that I came to respect the Buddhist
path and wanted to practice Buddhism. Since the teachers of these
concepts, the Tibetan Lamas I studied with, elucidated these ideas, it
was logical that the lamas' aim was to practice these concepts in their
daily lives. Since the Lamas taught morality, the importance of not
causing others suffering, skilful means, the laws of cause and effect,
it being wrong to deceive or crave or be attached to one's lust, it was
a natural conclusion to think that the lamas made an effort to practice
themselves what they were teaching.
I met enough lamas who were apparently good examples of Buddhism not to
have my guard up when I met Sogyal, who was translating for HH Dudjom
Rinpoche. At the end of Dudjom Rinpoche's teaching, Sogyal stated to a
roomful of people if they had questions to leave their name and number
on a notepad and he would try and answer everybody. He phoned me about
two weeks later and he said he couldn't answer my question over the
phone, but to come to his apartment.
About 7 or 8 minutes after my arrival at this place he sexually
assaulted me. He thrust his body on me after patting my head and face
seemingly affectionately as in a blessing. What ensued was completely
unexpected and unwanted. The act was over after several minutes. I
didn't scream, I didn't fight, I was polite and deferential. I simply
didn't want to believe that a Buddhist lama would intend to do me harm.
Not only did this cause me great emotional anguish, but I became
pregnant by Sogyal and later miscarried.
At the time I was 22, newly having taken refuge and devoutly Buddhist.
I didn't have the knowledge how to sort the good Lamas from the bad
Lamas, fake Buddhists from real Buddhists. In my mind, if one was a
Buddhist, one was basically good. If one was a Lama, one was holy and
to be greatly respected. I rationalized Sogyal's actions as some kind
of blessing that I would later come to understand, but his assault and
subsequent behavior showed me that he had no interest in my benefit. I
hardly knew him for more than a few minutes before he sexually
assaulted me. There was no way I could have known what he was going to
do.
He caused me great suffering. I perceived him to be a deceitful,
self-serving person at that time. Since1976, I have heard many similar
stories on three continents that I believe that he has not changed and
has not lived up to his title of Lama or Rinpoche.
The Geshe and Sakya Trizin, however, were both people I trusted
utterly. Both for different reasons. The Geshe was a respected monk,
strict in the observance of his vows. Our relationship was very much
like that of a father and daughter in his personal communication with
me. He worried if I took a train alone, travelled by myself. He told me
childish, innocent jokes. We discussed Buddhist dialectics almost every
day for 1-1/2 years. When he said he wanted to "blow on my heart" to
alleviate my mental tension (lung), I did not expect him to order me to
lift my pullover to expose my breasts. I was 23 years old. He didn't
touch me. I don't know what his motivation was, it just felt wrong to
me. I was full of shame. I lost a kind of innocent trust I had in him.
It also caused me suffering. It felt like a breach of boundaries.
As for Sakya Trizin, I had known him and his family for years. I know
the Rajpur community where he lives extremely well. There are a number
if Indians living along Rajpur Road who rent apartments or rooms to
foreign visitors. I rented the upper floor of an Indian family's house
across the road from Sakya Trizin. I also spent a lot of time at the
houses of many other families in Rajpur. Three of Sakya Trizin's
disciples knew of his request to be yab-yum with me at the time. One of
his disciples read my diary and discussed the fact she read "His
Holiness Sakya Trizin came to my place to do consort practice" both
with her boyfriend and with me. I still have the diary. The exact
dates were: December 3rd and 6th, 1981. I also discussed this "consort
practice" with my best friend who was a disciple of Sakya Trizin. I had
been a student of Sakya Trizin for only a few months before he asked me
to have sex with him. It is my belief he was interested in the sex not
for my or other beings benefit, but to satisfy his personal lust. The
effect was that I totally lost faith in Lamas as trustworthy. In fact,
I felt sickened, disgusted and miserable.
I am genuinely concerned that many other western women may have
suffered the same effects after being approached for sex by Lamas.
To sum up, I suffered loss of faith and trust, I felt violated,
betrayed. I experienced pregnancy and miscarriage, and felt shame and
disillusionment for many years since these events. I have not been able
to feel safe with a Lama since. It has also discouraged me from
participation in the Sangha, not only because of these actual events,
but from the lack of understanding and outright blame from other
Buddhists. Although still in my heart I am very much a Buddhist
practitioner.
Return to Table of Contents
Geir
RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF AMLEARNING
January 3, 2004
Dear Ambu and others,
Hello.
I was the person who helped file the lawsuit against Sogyal in 1993/4.
Mary Finnigan interviewed me for the BBC in which I spoke up about
Sogyal's sexual exploitation of me.
I never really got to fully speak my mind about how rotten a person I
thought Sogyal was at the time I got to know him, how grossly
narcissistic, deceitful, slothful, sadistic, immoral and basically
stupid I think he really was. I'd like to say that now.
A number of women contacted me around the time of the lawsuit by phone
and letter, who had also been abused by Sogyal but who were afraid or
ashamed to speak out openly, including a woman who had been a head of
his organisation, saying how staggeringly corrupt his sick relationship
with his devotees truly is, with them basically creating some kind of
pimping service for him, called Lama Care. He was conning people and
really hurting them! Not just some little dalliances but really USING
and ABUSING women, some violently, especially those who had just lost a
loved one, for example whose father had just died. He used people who
were bereft and grieving for his sexual gratification! How SICK is
that!!!
And he did NOT write his book on death and dying, Andrew Harvey did. I
learned that Sogyal couldn't even answer the questions about his book
on radio interviews and Andrew had to script them for him.
When I was 21, I went to India for about half a year, returned to
America for 6 months in 1976, and then went back to India that year and
stayed there for a decade, studying Buddhism with various lamas for 6
of those years.
It was during my 6 months back in America that I had the misfortune to
meet Sogyal. After sexually assaulting me, which I convinced myself
was, as other lamas had told me, some kind of "blessing", he conned me
into using my mother's telephone credit card, which I said he could use
in case of an emergency because he plead poverty, and he raked up a
huge bill, basically stealing. He asked me to stay at Marilee and Joel
Shefflin's house in Berkeley. I assumed I would be in a separate
bedroom but he insisted I stay in his bedroom, telling me later that he
had a girlfriend in London.
When I went for 3 days to visit my father, who was dying of cancer, I
came back to the Shefflins hearing that Sogyal had slept with 2 other
women. Between feeling disgusted by my having been duped by this
bastard con artist, I was also sickened by his focus on getting weight
loss drugs, speed for himself and Shenphen Dawa.
He told me that he wanted the sex, like a rock star, that Trungpa had
out in Boulder, with girls lining up outside the hallway. When he saw
Trungpa's set up, he was determined to be just like that and he told me
that, called me from Boulder to New York City, bragging about the girls
he was going to get.
In Berkeley at the gathering for Dudjom Rinpoche's teaching there in
the summer 1976, the big joke at the dining room table was that in
Tibet monks wore robes on the outside, were compassionate inside, but
secretly practiced tantra. In the West, the lamas said, people were
sexually wild on the outside, compassionate inside, but secretly wanted
to be monks and nuns. However witty that seemed at the time, I felt it
was a denigration of any Westerner wanting to practice morality or
discipline of any kind.
In 1984, an old dharma friend of mine had committed suicide in a
meditation retreat, making herself into a living butter lamp. This was
shortly after it was exposed that the Geshe at the Tibetan Library, our
refuge guru, had been having sexual relations with a south American
woman he had ordained as a nun.
By then I had heard, seen and experienced so many sexual abuses of
Western women by Tibetan lamas, my heart was basically broken and my
faith was shattered.
And it was NOT to be discussed openly. It was 'shameful' and to be kept
secret, hushed up, and this was the cover-up that kept it all going for
decades.
Just as one example of how this exploitation didn't just damage a
person's faith but had long-lasting repercussions, one very dear
friend, who I had just advised to remove her intrauterine contraceptive
device, because they caused infertility, went to visit Khamtrul
Rinpoche in Tashijong. En route, she stopped to visit one of the
renowned Tibetan ngakpas there, whose wife she also knew. The Ngakpa
requested my friend for yab yum with him and promised he would retain
his tigle. When my friend got pregnant, he made her promise not to tell
his wife or anybody in his circle.
Unlike the ngakpa, my friend kept HER promise to keep the breach of
trust secret, and she went back to her family in Australia where she
was reviled for having a bastard half-breed, whose father she wouldn't
publicly reveal. The son grew up with this shame on his head in the
merciless Tibetan gossip-community in India, and he's now a heroin
addict after a childhood spent growing up in a monastery.
Another old dharma friend was the Danish wife of Lama Topgyal, who had
not only no compunctions about cheating on his wife with every woman
who could be conned into his bed under the delusion that he was giving
"jinlab" (blessing), but he convinced his Danish wife that it was part
of her damstig (sacred spiritual bond with him as her teacher) to work
as a prostitute in Old Delhi, to make enough money to buy him arak,
hard alcohol. When I last saw her in 1984, she was in the middle of a
nervous breakdown, destitute, sick and emotionally crushed.
I was asked by Lama Topgyal to help be the midwife to his Danish wife's
first child, even though I had no knowledge about this. I was staying
with them for a few weeks before she gave birth to their son, and for a
few days when their son was several months old. Not only did lama
Togyal hit and yell at his infant child, he bullied his wife into
letting the cold, wet child scream itself to sleep, because to nurture
the baby was, according to lama Topgyal, to spoil him.
When I met his wife years later, after she had worked as a prostitute,
she said she had to send their child away as early as possible because
lama Topgyal beat the child so badly and wouldn't buy food but only
wanted liquor for himself.
For about half a year in 1980, I went to live in Rajpur, across the
street from Sakya Trinzin. I asked him for teachings on my meditation
practice and he convinced me he had a vision of him and me yab yum and
that it was important for him to act on it with me. Not only was it the
most pathetic sex act of my entire life, it was such a total farce. It
was about as enlightening as a mosquito bite, less even, if that's
possible. And when it seemed impossible that he could get beyond his
Ganesh sized belly to have sex, I offered him oral gratification. He
was worried that would get me pregnant.
>From that time on, Sakya Trinzin had no interest in teaching me
anything, and any conversation I tried to have with him was focused on
his adolescent-style lasciviousness, jokes, and obsessing about doing
it next, and how wherever I went in the world I had to let him know
where I was so he could have sexual access to me.
He also knew that his main Western student was cheating with a married
woman and did nothing to stop this breach of ethics, which went on
openly for many years.
I wrote the Dalai Lama directly, gave my name and address, said in no
uncertain terms did I think that Tibetan lamas were abusing Western
women sexually and doing them harm by tricking them into thinking it
was part of some tantric or spiritual practice when it wasn't at all.
By then I'd told a number of lamas about Sogyal's exploiting women, and
they thought it was just a joke. They ALL knew that Sogyal used his
disciples for sex and did nothing. They all knew what lamas were
exploiting what women and laughed about it.
Thinley Norbu was infamous for mocking any sense of female virtue, and
I sat in a room where he bullied a Tibetan nun into saying the Tibetan
words for penis and vulva because, according to him, it would cure her
of her attachment to any virtue.
In 1999, when I first learned how to log onto the Internet, my computer
was too old to be able to access the forum in which Mary Finnigan was
talking about the sexual abuses of Western women by Tibetan lamas. So
she posted my posts for me, and Evelyn Ruut, with whom I spoke over the
phone a number of times, supported me in my speaking out about these
abuses.
The responses I received were a number of emailed death threats, to
which I responded that I would contact the FBI if they continued. That
is also a warning to anybody else who reads this and thinks they can
either harass me or send a death threat. I will take legal action. I am
not afraid of any lawsuit, because what I am saying here is the truth.
On the Buddhist discussion board I was ridiculed and slammed for
telling the truth, and it hurt not to be able to respond to all the
mudslinging, but I realised that with many of the viciously
misogynistic fanatics there it would have been exhausting, and it was
painful enough to talk about how my deepest faith, most profound trust,
had been so callously defiled by the very Tibetan lamas I had been told
by other lamas were reincarnate, very holy, living Buddhas, teachers of
the truth and compassion.
I didn't feel psychologically strong enough before to talk about this
subject openly. I do now and I'm angry at the cowardice of the other
people who have been abused and not come forward. I know there are
THOUSANDS out there. I've personally met dozens and heard about many
more.
When the Karmapa was in Delhi, dying of cancer, he had a married
translator, Achi, who had a conveyor belt of sex partners and all the
other lamas knew it and did nothing. Women would arrive in a state of
abject reverence and were simply easy pickings for this translator, who
was notorious for having had an affair with Thartang Tulku's wife.
The depth of sordidness in the Tibetan lama scene was pretty revolting.
Once, when I went to meet Dodrubchen Rinpoche, and held up my mala to
show him that he and I had similar beads, he took my hand, with the
mala in it, and rubbed it in his crotch to masturbate. I mean YUCK!!!!
It hurts very deeply to be spiritually defiled, to have one's truth
path trashed by a so-called teacher of the truth. To have been used,
manipulated, scorned. The very word for female in Tibetan is "inferior
birth" - kyi-min.
I don't even know where to go with my first-hand experience of how the
Tibetan people think Westerners are just to be milked as sponsors.
Even Tibetans who are rich want "jindaks" for their kids, as a status
symbol.
Having spoken at length with June Campbell, I was disappointed that she
no longer thinks of herself as a Buddhist, but I can fully understand
why. I do still deeply appreciate many aspects of the Buddhist path,
and want to tell my experience about how Tibetan lamas are using some
grotesque and cultic version to exploit and parasite off of gullible
Westerners. And worse, this exploitation is really hurting a lot of
people!
Go to Next Page
Geir
people were just posting this recently, so putting this up on the web
is still an on-going phenomena. Not a buried and over scandal. This is
a thing coming out of the closet and blowing up Tibetan Buddhism big
time - in "surround sound and technicolor", as we say at ARBT.
Tara Carreon who is the respondent in this letter calls the fraud-fakes
a "Chain of Fools" and in her site map cover-page she calls Sakya
Trizin "a top-level theocrat so wooden-headed that he thought oral sex
could get a woman pregnant" !!! Makes for really looking stupid or mad.
So here's the promised next installment of the long series on SUCK MY
TRIZIN. If you want more of the series, "Grunt"... I'm not going to
post unless at least one person is reading. I just sent a post
yesterday, the last one, which speaks of Ruut, who now no longer
acknowledges these people and has said to me that these things should
rather be kept secret. She must be really disappointed that her name
and the whole thing be out and public now. Too bad for her. She should
have thoguht twice about hedging both sides of the deal because that's
what is called being half-ass, but I guess she's generous enough on
that score to be half-ass there too.She has enough to spread around
from what the alt.zen gallery shows of HER ! Hi hi hi ! She's taken the
side of the monks against these women and has thus packed her moral
principles away. SHe's privileged the robe, that no longer means a
thing in modern times, for the moral principles and feelings of human
beings. She's chosen the empty immorality of closed doors and shut out
openness and sincerity. Not me. In my school, women were exclueded from
Ngor, our monastery but if it's them that now uphold being a good
person well I go with them. If Tibetan Buddhism needs dressing down
from top to bottom because of immoral dealings then all stops must be
pulled out on that road to reforming.
Excerpt from the abuse-victims Amlearning and Tara Carreon :
RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF AMLEARNING
January 5, 2004
Dear Tara,
The last few days, (since having discovered your site quite by accident
- I was looking up Buddhist links for a person who is interested in the
combination of Buddhism and psychoanalytical thought) have been
profoundly healing for me. I had long given up the hope, that I could
work on healing these old and painful wounds of spiritual betrayal by
discussing it with anybody who had experience in the Tibetan Buddhist
scene.
What a deep relief it is to relate what happened to me to somebody who
knows what I'm talking about.
So much unresolved pain surfaced from my memory these last few days. I
read with increasing interest your posts about how Tibetan Buddhism
made you feel, the PTSD that you experienced. The images of torture, of
pain, affected me deeply. Yes, I really related to that PTSD you
described and had felt that myself. How courageous of you to express
your feelings here! It was comforting to me, validating and reassuring
that I wasn't alone in this.
What has been a tremendous help to me in understanding the Tibetan lama
cult has been the discovery of the term pathological narcissist. I'd
heard the word narcissist before and thought it basically meant
self-centered in a vain, conceitedly self-loving way. Now, after 4
years of studying about personality disorders, I am confident in saying
that I think a number of Tibetan lamas suffer from this disorder of
pathological narcissism. It's no wonder, in my opinion, since they were
yanked away from their families at a very young age and literally put
on thrones. I think this did severe harm to them psychologically.
Though their intellects may be intact, and they may mimic a silkily
'compassionate' demeanor on the surface, I think almost all of the
so-called rinpoches who survived this bizarre child abuse are deeply
damaged emotionally and act out their pain on Western women, expressing
covert rage for the abandonment they endured as children.
I think those Westerners, who survived narcissistic parents, would be
more likely to enter into a long term enmeshment with a Tibetan lama
and be used as Secondary Narcissistic Supply, while new devotees would
be culled as Primary Narcissistic Supply. I'm sorry that this jargon
may sound academic, the info on pathological narcissism is freely
available on the web if you put it into Google.
The mumbo jumbo surrounding the Tibetan lamas, the rituals, the
chanting, the obsession with feeling important about secrets, lineages,
entitlement, initiations, Bon wierdness, lengthy visualisations ... all
are bedazzling, obscuring the basic tenets and views of Buddhism,
putting them into some kind of wood-chipper of medieval pagan belief
systems. It's, in my opinion, utterly crazy-making, and I have not met
a Tibetan Buddhist, Western or Tibetan, who I thought had any basic
integrity or was, in fact altogether sane believing this bizarro
malarcky. The belief that mumbling so-called tantric practices at high
speed while doing dishes had any 'merit', or paying lip service to
'virtue' while ROUTINELY lying, being racist, bigoted, contemptuous,
aiding petty or not so petty criminal or immoral behavior, twisting
reality in labrynthine distortions is insanity producing. It's
brainwashing and it's sickening. It sickens people, and I don't think
it is spiritually awake or even Buddhist.
This is not to say that I think ANY Buddhist 'scene' is especially
healthy either, not the Zen scene, not the Theravada scene. I think the
whole devotee-guru dynamic has been and is a sick one.
Almost no lama I ever met and asked about how to meditate knew how to
meditate or taught meditation. Not that I think meditation is so
important now, but I did think at one time that meditation was the core
practice of Buddhism. Lamas did, however, teach elaborate cultic
visualisations with bizarre rituals. But basic Buddhist meditation, no
way. In my experience that was extremely rare and I only learned to
meditate by going to a non-rinpoche, unpretentious monk, called Gegen
Khentse in Manali. Frankly, he was the only teacher I met who didn't
sit on a throne, and was not sexually abusive to my knowledge. But he
was surrounded by people who were sexual predators, in particular an
"amche", a so-called doctor from Lahaul, who put the make on every
female student who came to Gegen for instruction. And Gegen did nothing
to get rid of this scum, who negatively influenced the young rinpoches
at the gompa there with his misogyny. Gegen endorsed abuse by doing
nothing about it in his presence.
Shandor and Gaea to me sound like they have Anti-Social Personality
Disorder and they were/are used by various lamas to bully others, as
part of an abuse support system to manipulate and exploit Westerners,
to intimidate, coerce and FORCE students into being obedient.
Shandor's and Gaea's bully tactics may be camouflaged by being called
protective but what exactly are the lamas being protected FROM? The
Westerners who visit the lamas are basically PROSTRATING themselves,
handing over their money, their houses, airfare, hundreds of acres of
prime real estate all over the world. I was told by a friend that
Tibetans received 5 times more money as refugees than any other group
in official contemporary charity. Tibetans get so much when the
Indians, who have suffered so much for so long, gave Tibetans thousands
of acres of the best land in India.
I think Shandor and Gaea are an expression of the lamas' own aggression
and covert bullying-by-proxy through these puppets. What's pathetic, in
my opinion, is that the Westerners who are being bullied by these
creeps are PAYING to be bullied. It's being put up with and defended
by the people who are being bullied. Like with the whole corrupt,
sexaholic insanity of the Kalapa Court. Without the Westerners, these
people would have to GET A JOB and earn their living, like any sane,
ordinary adult in society. Or they would have to go back to India or
Tibet and pull their bullying sadism on defenseless little Tibetan
boys, who have been sacrificed to the monasteries by their ignorant,
brainwashed parents.
So Shandor and Gaea invited Sogyal Rinpoche. That makes sense. It takes
a sociopath to want another sociopath around to manipulate and abuse
the devotees.
It's no wonder to me that Sogyal Rinpoche told the same joke twice. He
has a routine patter, the same ole same ole con he grinds out. He's
stupid in my opinion, incapable of introspection, a classic malignant
narcissist exploiter.
I've seen him in a vicious rage about how inferior all the other
Tibetan sects are, how inferior everybody is who isn't giving him
adulation or his main drug of choice, whether negative or positive,
attention. He has to have attention of some kind all the time and will
do anything to get it.
You said Sogyal Rinpoche went to Eugene and seduced Tsering Everest,
Chakdud Tulku's translator. No surprise there. Anybody who would be
Chagdug's servant, would be an easy target. I agree with your
speculation that Chakdud Tulku slept with many of his students, since I
heard about this literally decades ago from women who had slept with
him and men who knew that Western women students slept with him. I
think that sleeping with the disciples is a routine with cult leaders
of any kind or any gender. There may well be people who will talk about
this in the years to come, as the disillusionment with Tibetans and
their cult scene starts to percolate to the surface.
Sexual exploitation by priests of their emotionally/spiritually
vulnerable devotees is corrupt and causes psychological damage in the
devotees. This is true in the Catholic Church, in a therapist's or
lawyer's office, and it's true when the abuse/exploitation is done by a
Tibetan lama.
I don't know a single Western student of Tibetan Buddhism who isn't in
some way a mess after surviving their long term cultic involvement with
Tibetan lamas.
Marilee was living with Joel in a nice house in Berkeley in summer
1976, when they housed Sogyal as translator for Dudjom Rinpoche. Lena
Shefflin, who I thought was pleasant, visited often. She was a
raw-foodtarian at that time if I remember. I thought Marilee was nice
and flaky in a way I thought was just part of being an American at that
time. She was, I think I remember, teaching natural birth control
methods then, the rhythm method by testing one's temperature etc. I met
her a year later in Boudha at the initiations given for 6 weeks by
Dudjom there. When I fell in a drainage ditch badly injuring my
kneecap, Marilee did what I thought was pure hocus pocus, polarity
therapy. But it fixed my knee almost instantly. That was unexpected and
much appreciated. I think she was a loving person who was looking for
answers, as I think all of us were.
I hope she is well these days. I was so thankful for her kind
hospitality in Berkeley but looking back, I see how she tolerated all
of Sogyal's arrogance, his raging about everybody, his being a lousy
person, by being very passive. As I also was passive for a while.
Nobody stood up for what they knew was right. It was abject passivity,
letting Sogyal and the whole corrupt, materialistic, ugly Tibetan scene
unfurl without a peep, kowtowing to the bullshit all the way.
I think there was a lot of focus in the West on food issues when people
needed to look at their emotional and deeper psychological issues. But
there wasn't really a language that was readily available then in the
seventies, and what was available was being conscripted by
psychological cults, like EST and is still used in other cults today,
like The Forum.
I left Sogyal after staying with Marilee and Joel, utterly disgusted,
and returned to India wiser for the abuse I survived, but still deluded
into thinking it would be so much better with monks as teachers. Not.
No, I don't think I know Linda Wellings, Neal King or Lisbeth Duncan. I
may have met them at the Dudjom scene in Berkeley in summer 1976 and
just don't remember. I felt like an outsider there because my first
Tibetan teacher was a Gelug geshe and the Nyingma scene was grossly
judgmental about any other (read inferior) lama who wasn't in THEIR
(read superior) lineage. Looking back, it was all so kindergarten
petty, tedious and pathetic.
Oh, it's so sad Linda Wellings had sex with a monk at Khamtrul
Rinpoche's monastery at Tashijong and ended up with her son Jigmae,
while being accused of corrupting a monk just like Dechen was at
Jetsunma's.
Having been overtly groped by monks in the company of other monks who
ALSO groped me, and survived an attempted rape by a monk behind the
Chinese gompa in Bodhgaya, I have serious doubts that any Westerner
ever "corrupted" a Tibetan monk. If anything, I think it was the other
way around. How could most Tibetan monks actually be monks of their own
volition anyway? They were packed into filthy, frightening brainwashing
factories as little boys, dressed in a skirt, told to memorise
thousands of pages of paicha that meant NOTHING to them, that they
didn't understand and never understood. They raped each other in the
monasteries, often hearing other little boys like them being raped. How
could these men, who survived this child torture, actually be
monks???!!! They were forced into this insanity involuntarily,
socially, ashamed to opt out of this role that was forced on them as
little boys, when they had no voice or way of saying what they wanted.
The role of monk was idealised as THE right thing for a Tibetan family
to do.
Then after these brainwashed psuedo-monk men arrived in India, along
came Western women and men, not feeling the same "ngotsa" (shame) of
the Tibetans, but who were/are seeking spiritual awakening, a truth
path that they thought was an authentic, Buddhist one, and it must have
been staggeringly confusing/distressing for these pseudo-monks. Does
that mean they had a RIGHT to sexually harass or molest Western women?
No way. It's understandable, in the way criminal or immoral behavior is
understandable when committed by those who've lived lives of terrible
deprivation. But it is not acceptable and the abuse needs, in my
opinion, to stop.
The whole Tibetan scene is sick, wall to wall. And the Dalai lama and
others who are highly educated ALL know this! Nothing is being done to
change this insanity, this MASS ABUSE of little Tibetan boys by forcing
them into monasteries at 4/5/6/7 years of age. It's making a lot of
sick parasites who then act out their illness.
You said "Jigmae has always had trouble with his peers because he's so
dark skinned. Everyone thinks half-Tibetan kids are black". That's so
sad because Tibetans have so many shame, "ngotsa" issues. So much to
them is about appearances. There is obsession in the East, as
everywhere, about skin color and being as white as possible. But
Tibetans themselves foster such prejudice routinely. Most Tibetans do
not know words for any other colors except white, black and red.
Tolerance, in my opinion, is absolutely NOT a national Tibetan
characteristic.
You said "My favorite waiter at the Stupa View Restaurant in Kathmandu
told me he'd seen many a Western girl crying her eyes out to her mother
in the restaurant, because her Tibetan lama-lover treated her like shit
and slept with other women." Yup, that sounds par for the course. Get
any bunch of Western Tibetan Buddhist women in a room and out will come
the sexual abuse stories. But almost always no feelings come up with
these stories except gossip-giggling. It's like their reasoning and
recognition have disappeared and they don't see what's actually
happened, how they have been so used/abused. There is all this excusing
the sexual abuse, it's so unhealthy, and because of the shame attached
to the negative feelings, the ANGER about it isn't shared. So the abuse
has gone on and on and on and on.
You said "When Sangye Khandro left Gyatrul Rinpoche she told me, "Tara,
you have no idea how badly Tibetan men treat women." She ought to know
-- she slept with enough of them." Wow, that was news to me. When I
knew Sangye at Gangchen Kyishong, she told me she had taken some sort
of lay vows. But now I read that as vows to lay. I always assumed she
slept with Gyaltrul but that it was never actually thought of as sex.
How I compartmentalised that insanity in my thinking is typical of
cultic brainwashing.
Sangye was, in my opinion, deeply enmeshed with Gyaltrul Rinpoche. Her
beauty was something I was somewhat in awe of and envied a bit. I also
envied somewhat her calm exterior, her living in Hawaii, and even when
she said she had been, if I remember correctly, something of a biker
chick before she became a cult devotee of Gyaltrul's. In Clement Town
at Dilgo Khentse's Rinchen Terdzo intitiations in 1980, she said that
she was actually quite plump (she wasn't) for her size because her
bones were tiny.
Thinking about her enmeshment with Gyaltrul and what she said to you,
while having for many years put on this deceitful front of euphoric
composure, I feel really badly for her, how much she must have suffered
and been a party to get other women to be used by the lamas who also
used her. I wonder if she wasn't an adult who had been badly abused as
a child and locked into some reenacting her past with these older men,
who drained her dry while proclaiming their holiness, receiving
prostrations.
Do you know what happened to her after all those years of cultic
devotion? Is she in therapy?
You said "Lama Sonam thought he might come on to me once until I asked
him how his wife was doing". Good for you!!! I regret not saying that
to Sakya Trinzin. But since he endorsed adultery by not saying anything
about the adultery around him in his disciples, I think he, like most
other Tibetan men, think that adultery or sexual immorality of all
kinds, including sexually abusing little novice monks, is something
that is fine as long as one isn't caught.
A Western student, who wanted very much to reconcile the lack of
morality among the Tibetan teachers told me there was "lower morality"
and HIGHER morality". She thought that committing adultery, lying,
conniving, manipulating, exploiting, when it was done by a Tibetan lama
or disciple of a Tibetan lama, was of the HIGHER kind of morality. It
astonishes me the levels of reality warping that was done around
Tibetan lamas and is STILL being done.
Millions of dollars are being pumped into this insanity-making machine
all over the world. This insanity needs to exposed and talked about.
Thank you very much for talking honestly and courageously about what
you experienced Tara. I deeply appreciate sharing here what I
experienced myself and get it out into the open with the intention to
heal and offer it as a reality to any others who may be coming out of
the cultic fog or thinking of getting enmeshed with any Tibetan lama
for any reason.
Geir
fifty various excerpts on articles that deal with all the aspects of
scandalous and doubtful dealings within Tibetan Buddhism, enough to
totally knock it out. To s tart with there's the Seagal and Jetsunma
excerpts of unfathomable idiocy, not to say mad insanity. Either
someone steps in to champion Tibetan Buddhism or else it's counted out
by default for not being defended by anyone. The track-record of these
people is disastrous for them and no-contest from them just knocks them
out cold. Being dragged out into public like this :(a long series of
disastrous exposures of them) is just something Tibetan Buddhism can't
afford. They're not like the Christian Churches that can hunker down
and weather the storm. These people, Tibetan Buddhists, don't have as
much as a country : all their temples in the West and worldwide are not
in their names but in the names of locals that will retract their
support of the s..t hits the fan... as it now has started to. The
publishing of the full exceprts of ABOL here now, over a whole
month-period will surely toll the bells for their representation and
legitimacy worldwide. If they didn't know well now they do : Buddha
doesn't cover up for their shortcomings. Buddha, as for Him, is
protected by Mahakala, Kalachakra, Jungpo Dulje etc... and they are not
protected by even one of them. They are wide open and vulnerable if
they have committed even one of the counts against them here.
New excerpt before moving on from SUCK MY TRIZIN on to other groups of
exceprts on other frauds and scoundrels of Tibetan Tantric Buddhism
(May Kalachakra come and free us of all this quackery ! May it purify
it all by it's fierce embrace and gaze ! May the Warriors of it,
hailing from Shambala, blaze forth and rule the world !) =
http://www.american-buddha.com/am.learn.3.htm
(log in by registering)
RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF AMLEARNING
January 8, 2004
Hello again,
Gee, it's hard to know where to start. So many deep and painful
feelings are surfacing since talking about this here. If I'm repeating
myself by saying that, it's because each day there seem to be different
painful feelings coming up. It is a tremendous relief to release them
here.
It's like going to the dentist with an abscess and bursting it so the
infection can be exposed to fresh air, be cleaned out. I know this may
be somewhat revolting or repellently ugly to anybody who is still in
denial, or who has not fully come into their feelings about surviving
such deep betrayal, but I would like to assure anybody else reading
these posts that to talk about these issues OPENLY, to come clean with
one's inner self about the abuses one experiences, is a tremendous
relief. It certainly is for me, and for anybody else who openly talked
about the abuses they witnessed or were subjected to.
To all those who want to share their experiences, please come forward
and make a difference. Come and share THE TRUTH. It helps give the
person who shares their truth a way to heal the damage done, and is
also a comfort and inspiration to others, who may have been too ashamed
to come forward. It HELPS to protect others who are now or will be
victimized. I know a woman who killed herself because others didn't
speak up soon enough. Being abused caused me many YEARS of pain,
depression, grieving, loss, terrible deep pain. Please come forward and
DO something about this! Please!
How to begin talking about this all? I'd like to say that over the last
17 years, I have spent a lot of time in therapy, in meetings for
survivors of abuse, and I am not ashamed to discuss what for most
people may be a source of shame, deep feelings of anger, or outrage, of
profound grief, bitterness, disgust. Those feelings are not much
allowed to be discussed in society anywhere, particularly in the East,
and most definitely not expressed without being shamed for it by
Tibetans.
Anger is not a comfortable feeling to observe in others or to feel in
oneself. But it is there for a reason, and it can be the healthiest
response to abuse of all kinds. When anger surfaces in the face of
abuse, lies, hypocrisy, conniving, exploitation, sadism, violence,
perversion, corruption, it is a setting of a boundary, saying finally,
"NO!" NO MORE ABUSE!"
Especially for those who have chosen spiritual paths, anger is not
perceived as an acceptable emotion to express, particularly for WOMEN
to express. I'd like to say to the men out there who have seen
Sogyal's, or abuses by other lamas, that if a female priest had
committed the same abuse I think it would be quite conceivable that the
male victim would be calling this woman all the names that men say
about women when they are angry, expressing in angry, clear, and
possibly violent terms what they might like to do with her. I don't
think for a moment that a male victim who had been spiritually betrayed
by a female priest would necessarily ACT on that, possibly scary
looking, outrage, but I can imagine he would release his anger verbally
in ways that as a woman I would not be comfortable to hear. I have seen
in meetings for abuse survivors that men who have been violated by
women, who had power over them as children, say ugly, angry things in
healing their pain.
In either gender, the expression of deep anger may appear scary.
Psychologically it is okay in the arena of recovering to verbally
express feelings of deep anger, in visceral ways, because it is seen as
an expression of anger that is not acted on. The anger comes up and out
in a catharsis.
Then adult action can be taken to put in place healthy boundaries of
self protection, take legal or other sane adult action.
The abusers get away with all kinds of violations, being violent or
perverse, but whoa, if the victim gets angry, that's not nice? No, it
may not appear nice, but it is most definitely a part of the healing
process, like dealing with the contents of an abscess. An abscess needs
to burst to heal. In abuse cases, the anger of the victim needs to
surface to heal. In the recovery process, hidden anger just festers.
Is feeling one's feelings or telling the truth a hunting license? No.
There are legal ways to deal with criminal abusers like Sogyal and
other Tibetan lamas, who think they are not legally responsible for
their criminal actions, not least of which is avoiding paying taxes in
the USA because they are under the umbrella of religion. But is it
appropriate to feel the anger in an appropriate healing arena like
this? In my opinion, definitely yes.
One such case of a man being abused by a sadistic female, so-called
Buddhist teacher, is the cult buster, Josh, who helped Jane Doe and me
in filing the case against Sogyal. He had been a disciple of a
malignant narcissist Zen priestess/master, whose name I can no longer
remember, but it was, I think, in California. This Zen priestess
connived Josh to be her lover and, like most pathological narcissists,
after he gave in to her advances, was devalued in cruel ways. When Josh
broke free of his enmeshment with this teacher, she gave him 3 dimes.
She said the dimes could be used by Josh to call her from any of the
three places he was destined to go after he left her:
>From an insane asylum
>From jail
Or from a homeless shelter
Amazing how 3 coins could contain such venom in such a compact and
psychologically lethal form. It was a death script of sorts, a curse
upon his head.
I believe that Josh had been her disciple for a number of years, and
that's what he got for his spiritual trust in his teacher.
He has since become a very successful business man who is also renowned
for being a cult buster, helping people to deal with malevolent
gurus/lamas/so-called teachers of all kinds in legally assertive ways,
and has ample, experienced legal connections to do so.
He was finally, after years of deep anger, able to channel that anger
into helping others.
But expressing the anger came first. That was the beginning of his
coming back into his sense of integrity.
So I want to honor anger as an appropriate emotion in this process.
It's not an emotion that comes out in particularly tasteful ways ...
like "Ahem, excuse me, pass the Grey Poupon, and by the way I'm feeling
rather angry right now".
Authentic anger about real abuse usually comes out like: "FUCK THAT
SHIT!!! I want to tear that motherfucker a new asshole, damnit!!!!! I'd
like to take my psychic chainsaw and make puree of that shithead
fucker!!! WHO do they THINK they are???!!!! GRRRRRR!!!!"
Raw anger may not be expressed like that for a while. Often the anger
is first just stuffed down, with depression, feeling frozen, physical
illness, nervous breakdown, crying jags, or just bewilderment. But when
the anger surfaces about real abuse, it's harsh at first for everybody,
including the person feeling it, and everybody who loves that person
doesn't want them to feel or be angry.
People immediately want to put a damper on that anger, just sweep it
out of the way, placate or call the angry person nuts or psycho, or say
ridiculing things. But there is honesty in that anger, truth, and
connecting with one’s integrity. I think that anger, when it surfaces
about having been abused, is to be respected.
It is hard to feel the anger and get it out when people around are
saying, "Stay cool. Just let it go. Forgive." Wait a second --
something needs to be DONE first about the abuse! The abuser needs to
be stopped! And why be cool in the face of abuse? It's WRONG!
It's RIGHT to feel angry about abuse! It's HEALTHY to feel angry about
abuse being perpetrated!
Anger is not something one usually would be especially proud to have
any of one's friends see. There is a lot of discomfort about feeling or
SHOWING any anger. Tibetans really shame anybody expressing any anger,
and it's said that even a nanosecond of anger results in eons of loss
of merit, which presumably was accumulated saying Vajrakilaya practices
while doing the dishes over tens of thousands of lifetimes, when one
wasn't in the lower realms where they don't have dishes.
But there is, in my opinion, a beauty in anger honestly expressed. When
one has been thinking for a while, "This doesn't really feel that
alright to me but maybe it will all change into something alright
later," gradually losing one's integrity and watching other dharma
friends lose their integrity, a good burst of anger can snap one out of
the cultic mindset into awakening and realizing, "What AM I doing
putting up with this insane shit! This is AWFUL! I'm getting OUT of
this mess!"
Breaking free of the malignant optimism of the abused into expressed
anger can literally save one's life.
The terrible and painful aftermath of popping out of the cultic mindset
has been quite an ordeal for me as I slowly healed. After the initial
anger, I sort of went numb. Who was there to express the anger to? I
just went on with my life feeling a terrible sadness that my spiritual
connection and feelings had been so violated by Tibetan lamas ... and
for what? So they could get laid? It's such a grotesque thing to
imagine that what was so deeply precious to me was so violated. But
looking back on these betrayals, especially studying how narcissists
work, the effect the enmeshment has on the victims who head into this
hell unwittingly and get stuck there, I see now that I still have some
deep anger to release, and I am happy to have a place to let go of this
anger. It wasn't just them getting laid; it was an abuse of power. It
was and is very sick and very wrong and I AM REALLY ANGRY ABOUT IT.
Geir : "I AM REALLY ANGRY ABOUT IT !"
Geir
and still is pure and not rotten like the things posted here. Tibetan
Buddhism will probably disappear with thus like it's prophecied in the
Kalachakra Tantra to be survived by Kalachakra's Shambala Realm
throughout the world. Does this ng span the world ?
here it is; whammo ! "let no stone untruned and no scoundrel untamed
!":
"RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF AMLEARNING
January 9, 2004, No. 1
Hello dear Tara,
Yes, your kind and brave efforts to express your anger here got me
here.
I want to say that I think you made the right decision to come forward
with the secrets of those who wrote to you privately, which has been
and is protecting the abuses, many of them criminal, being perpetrated
by various Tibetan lamas. In life there are situations in which
discretion and honoring privacy is the right, moral, and honorable
thing to do, and also circumstances where keeping the secrets is
enabling the abuse to go on.
Legally, enabling a crime, such as hiding it or keeping it secret from
others who could otherwise prevent themselves from being victimised, is
called aiding and abetting. It has been over two decades since I
removed myself from the Tibetan scene in India. In that time, I tried
to expose the truth of what was going on, but all the victims I spoke
to were afraid to come forward. And all those who saw the victims being
abused and exploited did nothing, said nothing directly to the abusers.
When I helped Jane Doe file her suit against Sogyal, it took me two
years of my life to help her organise and support her case. I got $300
for all that help, not enough to remotely pay for all the telephone
calls I made, speaking to Sogyals' victims.
At the same time, I understand they were shamed into not telling, or
feared Vajra Hell ... ooooh. They were and are cultically paralysed
into silence. Maybe this conversation can inspire others to not be
afraid of telling the truth openly. I'm alright after all this time!
You will be alright too!
Last night I ruminated about what had happened to me, the old memories
and the news about the Tibetan Buddhist scene with Gyaltrul and Sangye.
The overriding thought was about how many sad sides to this ugly, messy
betrayal there are.
There is an excellent book I'd like to recommend to anybody who has or
is feeling betrayed by their involvement with Tibetan Buddhism. It's by
Patrick Carnes called, "The Betrayal Bond - Breaking Free of Exploitive
Relationships."
When the lamas' lack of integrity started creeping into my
consciousness, I made so many excuses for it. Like my old friend,
Chloe, who said that lamas' and disciples' immoral and corrupt behavior
was HIGHER morality. Yeah, right, the lamas' grandiosity, their feeling
entitled to be above the law, and sexually abuse their students at
will, their racist and sexist comments, including their contempt for
Indian people and Indian culture, in spite of the Indians offering the
Tibetans generous refuge, that was such excellent morality. There were
routine little experiences of Tibetan ill-will via the lamas that I
tolerated for so many years, excusing it, glossing it over because I
WANTED to believe that I was connected with something Meaningful - a
Higher Good.
For example, I lived for a while near Hardwar, a holy city for many
Hindus, on the bank of the Ganges. Tibetans would arrogantly carry
bloody slabs of water buffalo beef onto a bus packed with strictly
vegetarian Indian pilgrims. When the blood got on a pilgrim's clothing
or dripped onto the floor and a pilgrim complained, the Tibetans would
be so arrogant about it. A lama hearing this also was so arrogant about
it. Indians were grossly ridiculed by Tibetans as a matter of course.
One lama, a head of Mindroling Monastery, Zona Rinpoche I think his
name was, said he could not take tea in his community for fear he would
be poisoned. I wonder why? Smuggling gold was a routine that lamas did
to get money, and they got Western students involved in this as well. I
took it for granted that when lamas did criminal activities that it was
skillful activity!!!
When Geshe Ngawang Dargye asked me to lift my shirt up to look at my
breasts, he said it was to blow on my heart to help me feel less
agitated. I trusted him as a teacher more than anyone I’d ever trusted
in my life, and in many ways as if he were a parent. If he punched me
hard in the face I would have felt less pain than I did by his
'trivial' betrayal. When I told another student what Geshela had asked
me to do, she said I must be a dakini, special. I wanted to buy into
this malarkey because I wanted to believe, to trust my refuge guru,
that he had my best intentions at heart, that he was a Superior Being.
Not only did Geshela betray me, my dharma sister also betrayed me by
helping me lie to myself about the truth.
And she covered for the abuser too.
She betrayed herself.
I betrayed her too by not snapping out of the cultic mindset and
saying, Elizabeth, this monk who we all prostrate to and take refuge in
as the example of Truth and Enlightenment, just asked to look at my
breasts! That is TOTALLY unacceptable, and I want to discuss this with
the proper authorities, like the Dalai Lama, who put Geshela in charge
of teaching foreigners only to sexually act out on them over the years.
AND so did his dufus of a side kick assistant, Khedrup, who regularly
felt me up, especially if by bad luck I was doing korwa around the
library, and he came up behind me to grab my ass.
The betrayal was 3-dimensional. It was a full-circle lie. We were bound
to each other in our betrayal bond, a mandala of deception and
betrayal.
Variations on this theme occurred over the years in all the Tibetan
communities I stayed in. I feel partly responsible for the death of my
old friend who committed suicide because I was part of the lies that
went on at the Library for the 1-1/2 years I was there. If I had only
spoken up maybe she would not have bought into such insanity and taken
her life.
Oh, and the games the old timers, like Alex Berzin and Priya, used to
play with their not openly giving advice about the teachings. The
secrecy-power games they and other old timers played were truly
crazy-making. And that shit came down from the lamas too, who also got
off on secrecy power trips.
My own morality began to crumble over the years too.. There were a
couple of sexaholic men there at the Library, Glenn Mullin and Brian
Beresford, who died recently of a heroin overdose I believe, or
complications from his drug addiction. Geshela, a monk who was
extremely strict about his impeccable following of the rules and
regulations when in public, KNEW these men were sexual predators,
cruising the new women students who arrived doe-eyed to study with a
‘genuine’ lama at the Library. He did nothing, and numerous children
were adulterously and recklessly sired by these men who thought they
were sooo cool with their Tibetan rigamarole and substance/alcohol
addiction.
This all may sound like just so much Peyton Place bullshit but in real
life, actual kids came into the world because of these rogue creeps,
and their mothers really suffered not having a father who behaved like
an adult to these kids but instead had some cheating dog who was
goofing on the pseudo-yogi role. God knows how the dozen or so kids are
doing! I can't imagine their LIVES have been comfortable being
basically fatherless ... and all this under the guise of being
Buddhist? What a crock!!!
I slept with one of these dogs, Brian. When, getting off the train in
Old Delhi, he asked if he could share the hotel room Jenny and I were
staying in. He was married, I knew his wife, and didn’t think anything
of it. He took the middle bed in the room and in the middle of the
night came into my bed. I deeply regret sleeping with him. I felt
badly. Jenny scolded me badly, but then went off and married a Tibetan
monk herself. Although I eased my guilt by saying I wasn't the only one
who’d cheated with Brian, because over the years I met a few other
Western women who had slept with him. I betrayed Brian's wife, who I
did apologize to 4 years ago. I betrayed myself, my own principles
about not liking to commit adultery. I betrayed Brian's daughter by
doing that with her father.
The lack of morality was seeping slowly into my own life and I didn't
like who I was becoming as a person, using Buddhism as part of some
camouflage, and not being well connected with my true self. I saw what
this betrayal cover-up was doing to ALL my Western Buddhist friends. It
took me six long years to break away and decide to keep a complete
distance from the entire Western Buddhist scene, in India and America.
By the time one of Trungpa's Kalapa Court Mafiosi came to New Delhi due
to the fact that Karmapa was dying of stomach cancer, I had seen so
much Tibetan corruption, lama corruption, vicious gossip, kids being
born out of adultery, Western Buddhist corruption, everybody screwing
everybody, lying, smuggling, the assassination of the head of Clement
Town, monks molesting little boys, monks having a prostitution camp
outside Rumtek, the various Kargyu heads of the various sects all in
political war with each other, death threats ...
The whole, ugly mess was so rotten!!!
Then came the news about Osel Tenzin and his thinking he was above
AIDS, that his penis was magic, so magic it killed people. Then news of
Trungpa's death, his obesity, the drunken stripping of people in
public, violating them publicly, then Kalu Rinpoche's using June for
all those years with his nephew in on this insanity, all while
pretending to be His Holiness monk, who looked like a male Mother
Theresa, and actually being scum.
Yes, it's a whole, ugly, rotten mess, and the betrayal by the lamas was
just the beginning. The lack of principles, clarity, honesty, morality
trickled down. Ugh.
I remember now that Sangye also told me in 1980 that Gyaltrul saved her
from an abusive marriage. It sounds like her ex, this Hawaiian DJ
was/is a psychopath. It sounds like Sangye may also have a personality
disorder if she is a pathological liar, cold and socially exploitative.
She may be a Narcissist or an Inverted Narcissist and need some kind of
celebrity or 'unusual' person to subjugate herself to? It certainly
sounds like she is unhealed from the abuse she survived with the
psychopath DJ. It would be logical from that alone and the fact she
went into this bizarre and unhealthy servile relationship with
Gyaltrul, that she had been sexually abused as a child.
Holding her arms out and making kissy faces to Gyaltrul Rinpoche would
be as culturally acceptable a display of affection to a Tibetan male as
if she did a striptease act. Traditional Tibetans NEVER hold hands, and
public display of affection is unthinkable to them. Saliva is
considered to be a greater contaminant than urine, and less attractive.
Kissing is done to babies and on cheeks, dry and privately. Sex is
something that takes place in about 5 seconds. I sincerely doubt that
many Tibetan women have any idea of what an orgasm is or would know
what it feels like, nor would a Tibetan man have any idea that a woman
could have one! Sakya Trinzin, for all his education, being married,
father of two children and world traveling, thought oral sex could get
a woman pregnant. Almost all Tibetans I met knew almost nothing about
the birds and the bees or the most basic science, and still think the
world is actually flat.
I seem to remember the sexaholic, adulterous Achi, (Karmapa’s
translator) saying that Tarthang Tulku had coerced a number of Tibetan
people into near slavery, and had tried to do that to his American wife
too, the one Achi had the affair with. I cannot imagine that dozens of
Tibetans have been in this bonded labor situation without other
Westerners or Tibetans knowing about it. This is an example to me of an
abuse support network that happens in the presence of a malignant
Narcissist. It is a strange collusion of the victims in their own abuse
and of the abuse of other victims. This has happened throughout
history, for example, in Germany, under Hitler. It is a crazy-making
enmeshment that is common in cults. It can be common also in corporate
Narcissism, like at Enron.
I am ashamed of my own bad behavior in all this mess and corruption. I
regret that it took me six years to get out of the cultic enmeshment.
I was deeply invested in the Tibetan Buddhist scene. I convinced myself
I was part of something that was a Higher Good, while not allowing
myself to be fully conscious of the bad I saw around me. I would like
to publicly apologize to all those I have hurt with my own lack of
morality on the occasions I did not follow my better judgment, and in
not having taken clear-thinking action to stop the abuses I saw or knew
about, and also because I also participated in the cover-up with my
silence. Previously, I justified my passivity by saying I was a victim.
Yes, I was, but I also helped in the secrecy. I said and did nothing
for 6 years to speak up against what I knew in my heart was wrong. I
deeply regret that.
I hope my sharing of my tale of betrayal will help others who are or
have been traumatized into secrecy or into not honoring what feels
right, to get out of their betrayal bondage and to share their story
here.
"
Geir
of Tibetan Buddhism in the presons of Trungpa, Osel, Seagal, Jetsunma
etc... but the articles are so many that they'll take all of the month
at least. So, you people on ARBT just relax and take in the landscape
because it's going to be a long haul, this bringing out of all the ABOL
files in toto.
I don't think anything will be left of Tibetan Buddhism because the
Carreons take on the whole Tibetan hierarchy from Dharamsala to the
outskirts of Indian tibetan camps, from the mountains to the sea. No
tibetan worldwide is unscathed. There are pure tuibetan lamas but they
are so rare and have so little voice in this, that there will verily be
little left of Tibetan Buddhism once all this dirt will have been aired
out in public palce as here.
The ride will be easy so sit back and take it in your strides. Sitting
stiff will not be necessary : this is a long process so just take it in
and surf on it.
Next installments : soon; ABOL is bootle-necked. Maybe my installments
are making a rush over there.
Geir
Geir a écrit :
ABOL's site unblocked now :
New installements :
http://www.american-buddha.com/am.learn.5.htm
"RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF AMLEARNING
January 9, 2004, No. 2
Dear Tara,
I just wanted to thank you for your concise and, in my opinion,
brilliant summation:
"As I get older, I appreciate more and more how what happens to us as
children affects our whole lives. Just like girls who don't have
daddies look for daddy for ever after to worship, boys who don't have
mommies look for mommy ever after to torture. Everyone acts according
to their power, women submissively, and men aggressively."
This has been practically true in my assessment of myself and others in
abusive relationships.
When enough serious damage is done to a child during the formative
first 6 years, that child may develop a rigid, all-pervasive
personality disorder. These disorders, which are briefly (and rather
badly in my opinion) described in the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual
(DSM IV for short) (an insurance, legal and medical reference guide to
diagnosing mental and emotional illness) can range from the relatively
benign, like Dependent Personality Disorder to the truly evil, like
Anti-Social Personality Disorder, often called Psychopathic Personality
Disorder.
These disorders afflict either gender. More often than not,
pathological Narcissism (NPD) is diagnosed in men. Borderline
Personality Disorder (BPD) is usually diagnosed in women.
I'd say for example that I think Thinley Norbu, Sogyal and Trungpa
could be diagnosed as NPD and Jetsunma as BPD.
The heavier duty personality disorders, the dangerous ones, are called
Axis II (personality disorders), Cluster B (pathology). They are:
antisocial, borderline, histrionic, narcissistic personality disorders.
These all become worse with the co-morbidity of alcohol consumption,
which is fashionable among the lamas who put themselves on the ngakpa
or 'crazy-wisdom' pedestal, and encourage their male disciples to keep
them company in this addiction.
It has been estimated that 18% of the population has Axis II disorders:
http://www.healthrising.com/stories/biaxis.html
The people who were not loved well enough by parents who were healthily
emotionally available (most of society), but had just enough love to be
able to have an integrated but weak true self, are often codependent,
which means emotionally shut down, enable abusers, and fit a typical
family ecological niche of:
Hero (compulsive caretaker),
Scapegoat (Rebel-Addict),
Lost Child (Invisible Space Cadet), and
Mascot (Performer-Keep 'Em Laughing)
have all tendencies to attach themselves to emotionally abusive people,
either male or female, or both, in either love, friendship, career or
spiritual relationships.
In the case of spiritual seekers, who attach themselves to a Narcissist
guru/lama as their devotee, I'd call that Narcissist-Codependent, or
NCo, for short.
Narcissist Codependents, I'd speculate, are the children of
narcissistic parents, adult children of alcoholics, or parents who were
abusive in one way or another, either engulfingly controlling, or using
their child to get their own wounded needs met. Often the adult
children were their mother's confidante, caretaker, a surrogate spouse
emotionally, and their mother's 'friend', instead of having a genuinely
parental mother. Or else they are commonly the blamed, devalued child.
Their father might be a beeraholic, workaholic, rageaholic, or just not
there. Or an Army whip-cracker. Or an incest perpetrator. Emotional and
physical abuse can take many different forms.
Alice Miller's excellent (although written in somewhat antiquated
English) book called, "The Drama Of The Gifted Child," can be really
helpful in seeing these issues more clearly.
There are a lot of typical dysfunctional family scenarios that leave
deep scars on the children who grow up in these environments. Adult
children of dysfunctional families are more likely to become cult
devotees, with girls who don't have daddies looking a for daddy for
ever after to worship and boys who don't have mommies looking for mommy
ever after to torture. As you said so poignantly, "Everyone acting
according to their power, women submissively, and men aggressively."
Although I have to say that in Tibetan Buddhist cult environments, I've
seen the passivity in male devotees as well as in women; the devotees
often expressing their unresolved issues in passive aggression."
(second excerpt of that :)
"RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF AMLEARNING
January 9, 2004, No. 3
Dear Charles,
Your posts are so delightfully forthright, emotionally awake and
honest. I really appreciate your self disclosure in brave,
unpretentious, friendly and direct ways.
You said:
"Don't get too impatient waiting for the next honest, angry woman.
People are completely dickless, and I don't mean that in a sexist way
Tara stands out there on the road saying, "Fuck the goddamn lying
religious fraudsters!" You pull over and join us. It's a miracle."
You build it and they will come. You made the effort to be honest,
create a forum for sharing your painful experiences and awakening. I
came. Others have contacted me privately with their stories. I am
waiting, trying to be patient for them to share here what they shared
with me privately. This is a warning to those people, I give you both 2
days to publicly share or I will post your posts to me here.
Yes, I have to say I AM SO ANGRY WITH DICKLESS TB DISCIPLES WHO ARE NOT
SAYING ANYTHING IN PUBLIC BUT ONLY IN PRIVATE. I COULD SCREAM!!!!!!
I SO agree with Tara! Fuck the goddamn lying religious fraudsters!
Thank you Tara!!! Thank you for your brave, direct, not quivering in
hiding ANGER!!!
You said:
"You note the amazing, appalling ignorance of people believing that the
earth is flat. I may be picky, but that always bugged the heck out of
me. Finally, I rolled it up into an aphorism. "If they're wrong about
things we can see, why should they be right about things we can't
see?""
Their general ignorance about anything more sophisticated than some
crayon coloring book version of primitive reality was/is incredible.
The focus of the majority of Tibetan Buddhism seems to be an
obsessive-compulsive need for repetition of lengthy rituals and, like
the old Christian idea of feeling defiled, stained, dirty, bad, and
needing cleansing. Or some sort of magical sounding rituals on top of
being emotionally undeveloped.
Like Milarepa's enslaved/enmeshed/abusive relationship with sadistic
Marpa while thinking about flying? Say wha?! And THAT relationship
became the national template for lama devotion. Talk about SICK!!! It's
a classic story of an abused kid growing up in a toxic, abusive
relationship with a pathological Narcissist and idealising it as
devotion when it was what in modern parlance could easily be called
S&M. Milarepa, who was a creative thinker in so many ways, touchingly
and deeply poetic, self-abused with anorexia, spent an entire lifetime
of deprivation addiction, as if that were spiritually healthy or
helpful.
I once asked a Tibetan translator what the Tibetan word for imagination
was, and there isn't a word for that in Tibetan that he knew of in
either colloquial or academic vocabularies. Maybe a fancy shmancy
scholar like Guenther could come up with one, but in over 30 years I
never heard a word for imagination in Tibetan. I think the imaginary is
considered real in primitive magical thinking. The Tibetan feudal
political mindset suited this insanity.
What was intellectually advanced in Tibetan Buddhism came in very
limited, compartmentalised snippets from India/Nalanda, in the yoga
practices and viewpoint for example, or from China in medical science.
There are a tiny handful of Tibetan scholars who seem to have a grasp
on the philosophical meanings conveyed in the Abidharma, like
Longchenpa, but although the meaning of the Madhyamika Avatara is
discussed obliquely in Dzogchen teachings, or academically by various
geshes, there is no walking it like they talk it! The actions do NOT
match the views.
It seems grossly bogus to me to mouth fancy words but be emotionally,
socially, sexually, politically, psychologically, spiritually,
financially, criminally abusive. Any corrupt idiot can do that, without
the pretense or sheer insanity of thinking they are a reincarnate lama
or holy.
You said:
"What I intuit about your Peyton Place stories is that all the body
fluids got exchanged at fairly high levels. Plebes, floor sweepers,
chauffers, those people, didn't really get cut in."
No, Charles, you are, in my opinion, wrong there. That is to me the
mindset of somebody who thinks there IS royalty and plebes in a cult.
All the people, ALL the devotees, are part of the abuse support network
which faces, like spokes in a bicycle wheel, the hub, the Narcissist.
Without the spokes, the hub could not exist. Without the hub, the
spokes could not exist. It is, oops a Buddhist term, an interdependent
arising. LOL!
There are a number of ways to get screwed in a cult, not just, in the
case of Tibetan lamas, a mini squirt from their side in a 5 second
genital 'occurrence' that is almost imperceptible. Lamas pick on
anybody they can. Whoever happens to be closest. If a newbie is the
closest, it will be a newbie. If it's the translator, it will be the
translator. It is the devotees who allow people to come close to the
lama. That is the game of the cult devotees with each other, to put
themselves in an idealised position, near the Narcissist, and keeping
others in what they think is a one-down position. The leader plays into
this to keep all the attention riveted on them. It's codependent and
counterdependent. Everybody is sickly dependent on everybody else.
In a cult there is no healthy, mutually acknowledged vulnerability in a
healthy intimacy of peers based on earned trust.
Financially, all those who donate to a cult are screwed. The money goes
into creating the cult, expanding the cult. The people who are involved
with cult devotees are screwed too because they lose their loved ones
to the cult. The newcomers think they have to put in time and
dedication to work their way up the ladder to the position nearest the
Narcissist leader. But the Narcissist NEEDS these newcomers as fresh
supply of attention, to create tension/jealousy/mind-games with the old
timers. Everybody is using everybody. Nobody is 'better off'. It's just
games.
Eric Berne wrote an excellent book about the games played in a cult and
how all the roles are part of a sick spiderweb in, "The Structure and
Dynamics of Organizations and Groups." NY: Grove, 1975.
This and any of the books I've mentioned can be bought second-hand and
very cheaply on AbeBooks.com
I highly recommend Eric Bernes' books, "Games People Play," and "Beyond
Games and Scripts."
You said:
"I was kind of that way, at the periphery. Lamas, aside from Gyatrul
Rinpoche, didn't like me so much. They got a suspicious look. I think
it must be my Chinese profile."
I think you were not desperate to betray your true self 'enough', to
get into the grossly servile position of the so-called inner circle. I
commend you on your integrity and clarity NOT to have debased yourself
to that level.
There may be something healthy enough in you that the lamas intuited
they couldn't get at. You were not available to be conscripted as a
bully they could manipulate, a sock puppet, a gofer, a sneak, an
orifice, a doormat, a total sucker.
No, you would not have allowed a string to be tied to your big toe so
when the lama felt like it he could publicly humiliate you, and
idealise it as Good For You. No puppet degradation for you.
That kind of abuse is written about very well in 2 books, both, oddly
enough, with the word soul in the title. The first one is: "Stalking
the Soul: Emotional Abuse and the Erosion of Identity," by Marie-France
Hirigoyen. The author is a professional victimologist, part of the
criminal bureau of investigation in France. And the other book is one
of my all time favories, called, "Soul Murder : The Effects of
Childhood Abuse and Deprivation," by Leonard Shengold.
By the way did you or Tara know a psycho ex-monk bully addict who
worshipped Chagdud, called Mike The Monk? Or Mad Monk?
Thank you for this conversation Charles.
Much appreciated,
AmLearning"
Geir ; nity !
samvaknin
You may find these of added interest:
http://malignantselflove.tripod.com/faq47.html
http://malignantselflove.tripod.com/15.html
http://malignantselflove.tripod.com/journal79.html
http://malignantselflove.tripod.com/faq11.html
http://malignantselflove.tripod.com/narcissismglance.html
http://malignantselflove.tripod.com/npdglance.html
http://open-site.org/Health/Conditions_and_Diseases/Psychiatric_Disorders/Personality/Antisocial/
http://personalitydisorders.suite101.com/
Take care.
Sam
Geir
facts on (seeing they're being taken to justice and to dsciplining for
their "disorder") ?
Would you call them crazies ? That's what the site at ABOL does. Have
you contacted ABOL ? They're lawyers and really serious. Their facts
are checked and proven.
This is a severe link to court cases and serious stuff that's come down
and is still ongoing. I'm happy, Sam, that you are pitching in here
out of compassion for these victims and treating the question of the
madness of the perpetrators.
These people are serious and want to hound down the people they've
lined up in their sights. They want closure and not let anyone of them
off easy.
Of what interest is it to you, Sam ? Who is your lama ?
http://www.american-buddha.com/am.learn.7.htm
"RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF AMLEARNING
January 10, 2004
To the people who wrote me privately:
To you both,
Although you deleted your emails to me, I copied them and have them
ready to post tomorrow, unless you come to this forum and speak up for
yourselves, find the words to speak your mind. How much more abuse is
going to go on?
When will the perfect moment be for the truth to be spoken? It has been
DECADES of abuse going on!!! HOW MUCH MORE ABUSE HAS TO GO ON BEFORE
YOU SPEAK UP?????
Miranda Shaw and I sat next to each other on a plane ride from Germany
to America in 1990. I told her about Sogyal's abuses 3 YEARS before she
took any action. Hundreds more women were abused in that time. One
woman was institutionalised that I know about as a direct result of
Sogyal's abuse of her. Miranda was the one who referred Jane Doe to me,
so that I could comfort this poor woman who had been sexually connived
and beaten by Sogyal JUST AFTER HER FATHER HAD DIED. It was a miracle
Jane Doe's husband didn't divorce her for sleeping with Sogyal, that
her entire life didn't shatter and fall apart in a total
mental/emotional breakdown.
What kind of a man seduces women who have just lost a loved one, who
are GRIEVING and lost, in need of spiritual comfort? This is some kind
of emotional necrophilia to be such a predator! This is monstrous! When
are you, who posted me, who know what has been going on, going to speak
up????!!!!
Miranda was VERY focused on her success. She wanted to write about
women and sex practices in Buddhist history. It's an exciting subject,
one that the author and a publisher COULD MAKE MONEY ON. I don't think
the practices she wrote about have EVER happened with Tibetan lamas, or
maybe anybody. I'm not convinced that she thought that either. She did
technical, scholarly research based on religious texts. People write
about dragons and Loch Ness monsters, but do those things really EXIST?
Religious texts can say ANYTHING, and they often do. Are cult texts to
be believed? I don't think so!
Anybody can write about or publish anything. I've published a couple of
books myself. One was written when I was 19, it was commissioned. I
wrote the book in a single month, researching it while taking school
exams. I did the best I could at the time, but I was instructed by my
editor to write information to fit the images they had bought for the
book. Words to match the pictures. It was a comparative history book on
religion. A commissioned coffee-table book. It was intended to make
money, that was all. It was published on 2 continents, and by a
reputable, internationally renowned publisher. I made a considerable
sum of money for a 19 year old's first effort at writing. The contents
of the book were never questioned for a second. I was commissioned, I
wrote, it was published as fact.
I wrote all kinds of errors in that book, some I knew about because my
writing had to fit the pictures, as I was hired and paid to do, and
some by accident. That book is now quoted all the time on the web, as
correct, as fact. None of what I wrote was checked up on as being fact.
So I KNOW that editors don't find out whether something is true before
they publish something. The publishing industry is just that, an
industry, they sell PRODUCTS, books, not truth.
My writing for that book was based on other books that were published
with the wrong information. Just because something is published doesn't
mean in any way that it is true. Just because a person has a degree
does not mean that person knows what they are talking about, or that
they are necessarily a person of integrity, telling the truth they
know, or that they even know the truth about anything.
What I'm trying to say is that I think that the tantric sex thing is
not true. I don't think that women or men get enlightened doing tantric
sex, or that it gives anybody anything, except the simple sex act. I
don't think it cuts through any dualistic tendencies AT ALL!!! Ever. I
think that is some kind of way to jazz up the plain old sex act into
being something it's not.
June Campbell was used by Kalu Rinpoche for sex. He told her she would
be going to Vajra Hell if she didn't do what he wanted, and by the way
she had to screw his sleazy nephew too, or else. Some enlightened being
there. Not. What an ugly, cruel power game, with a nun, who devoted
herself diligently to learning Tibetan, to being his translator, taking
vows to live her life chastely, to helping others.
She never spoke about her feelings of anger, or the terrible betrayal
she felt, because Tibetan Buddhists, all, are ASHAMED AND HORRIFIED by
expression of anger, as if THAT, expressing anger, were immoral, and
not the abuses committed! So she wrote her book with calm, not bringing
her emotions into the picture at all, but she was reviled anyway by the
Tibetan Buddhist community, not for telling the truth, but because
people didn't want to be disillusioned from their fairy tale malarky!
She was betrayed, used for sexual purposes in ugly, hurtful ways. It
had NOTHING to do with anybody's being enlightened! That is just some
Western or Tibetan fantasy that was rigged so lamas could use women
sexually and cover it up as something fancy.
The word in Tibetan for female IS INFERIOR BIRTH. For a thousand years
nuns were not called nuns, they were called Auntie. Women did not get
respect in Tibet, ever. It was a male theocracy. Women were not taught
to read or do anything. It was polyandrous, forcing one woman to sleep
with a handful of brothers, to keep the land from being legally
parceled out to the different brothers. If all the brothers married one
woman, they could keep their pitiful piece of land in one piece and not
have to divide it up among their separate families. They respected a
piece of barely arable farmland more than they respected any woman.
Women did not and do not have any power or respect in Tibetan culture,
period. That is a fabrication of Western women who want to believe that
without ever knowing anything about Tibetan society up close, just
reading books by Western authors who idealised Tibet as some kind of
Shangri-La.
What kind of man, lama or not, goes around saying his wife likes bigger
dicks than his, so she should quietly screw other men? Say wha !???!
This was the sacred bond between Gyatrul and Sangye? Neither of them
seem to be any more enlightened from their experience. And why should
they be? It was always and only, just plain old sex.
Sex is for pleasure and making babies, to be done in appropriate ways
with partners who have consented as peers, not as disciple or teacher,
child and parent, child and trusted elder, parishioner and priest,
patient and therapist, client and lawyer. If 2 peers, friends, want to
have "tantric sex", I say go for it, have a folie a deux! Go for the
mutual delusion. But when it is a power play, a sadistic one of
spiritual betrayal, a cruel game of seduction of people who are
vulnerable, very vulnerable to what they are being told, that is NOT
okay. In the West is is AGAINST THE LAW. It is against the law, not for
frivolous reasons, but because the VICTIMS, yes, the person who gets
used this way, is seen as a victim of a crime, of abuse, are deeply
DAMAGED by this abuse, this appropriation of power. It is like a child
getting screwed by a parent. It is an abuse of power.
If a little child flirts with daddy, it doesn't matter how turned on
daddy gets, it's a CRIME to use this vulnerable child in a sexual way
for the gratification of the adult. That is how a spiritual "disciple"
is seen in the eyes of the law, as a person who is very vulnerable,
like a child. Psychiatrically, such a violation by a spiritual teacher
is treated as if the sexual abuse were a type of incest.
In my experience with Tibetan people in general, they are not remotely
romantic at all. Not in ANY way that a Westerner would consider
romantic. There is no literature per se, almost no stories at all, and
none that I have ever heard about involving "love". In fact, I have
never heard the Tibetan word for love before in the 30 years since
studying and knowing how to speak the language. There is "compassion"
as in compassion, "nyingje", for all sentient beings. There is the
Tibetan expression, "Goe gi do" that passes for "I love you", which is
"I want you (sexually)". The colloquial word for sex in Tibetan,
"layka' is "work".
Maybe the lack of romantic literature in Tibet, or literature that has
anything to do with the relationship between men and women as peers, is
because Tibetan men did not have romantic love with women. There was
almost no literature at all in Tibetan culture. All writing and the
use of the intellect was utterly taken over by the male theocracies of
the monasteries. Society was almost 90% illiterate; a lot of the
religious texts were just memorised, not read to be understood,
basically just a form of brainwashing.
Tibetan men generally do have exceptionally small penises, and it is
generally known in conversations I've had with Tibetan women over the
decades that Tibetan men cannot perform sexually in any way for more
than a few seconds, or that Tibetan women get little or no pleasure out
of the sex act with a Tibetan man. This is something joked about
frequently by Tibetan women themselves, that sex is nothing to them, a
disappointment to be endured for the sake of having children. Maybe
this is why all the emphasis on what passes for the expression of love
in the Tibetan Buddhist texts always refers to love one would have for
a mother?
Tibetan marriages are arranged. It's a business arrangement between
families for the tribal purpose of creating laborers and landowners.
One son, if it could be afforded to hand over a potential farmhand, was
traditionally, somewhat routinely, given to the monastery when he was a
tiny boy, handed over like a sacrificial lamb to a theocratic city of
pseudo-monks; run by men, for men. These pseudo-monks didn't work and
were totally supported by the poor laborers, the farmers outside the
monastery perimeter. Inside the monastery these pseudo-monks
brainwashed themselves, and the outside people were treated like
inferiors who had to crawl and scrape for the "blessing" of these
pseudo-monks (who were in fact, raping each other, when they weren't
brainwashing each other, inside the monastery walls).
A number of educated Tibetan people understand that those chosen to be
"rinpoches" were because of their relationship to politically powerful
families. Or a child was chosen from an area for politically strategic
reasons.
What are you, who posted me privately, waiting for? For there to be
nothing to be afraid of? For your reputations to be protected? You both
think you are spiritual and moral people, but what kind of integrity do
you think you have when you can help put an end to the abuse, NOW, but
you are not doing it??!!!
Why would you not come to this forum, where I publicly spoke out about
what I suffered, and support me here? Either of you could have chosen
anonymous names, unrelated to your actual identity, and offered your
support, your experience, written about your thoughts and feelings in
any way you like, in such a way that nobody knew who you are, but still
validating what I said was true, or that you had experienced similar
abuses yourselves.
Why write to me privately, wanting my sympathy, my comforting, or to
confess your knowledge about abuses to me, when there are people out
there, now, being abused, used, assaulted, pimped, whose inner and in
some cases outer lives are being destroyed by these abuses?
WHY ARE YOU KEEPING YOUR PART IN THIS SECRET???
Is it because you know that you are still perpetuating this abuse by
keeping it secret?
Please, be decent people and come forward and speak up, openly.
As for the person who said they think my intention to post what they
said to me in private here is blackmail, the legal definition of
blackmail is:
"obtaining or procuring something by illegal means, such as by force or
coercion."
You CHOSE to write to me. I did not coerce you. I did not obtain the
information you told me illegally, by force or coercion. You didn't
know me. There was no trust I earned with you. I posted here publicly
to support Tara and Odysseus in their truth telling, by my own
truth-telling. My intention in doing that was to HELP END THE ABUSES
AND TO TELL THE TRUTH.
When I read your second post to me I felt literally sick for 12 hours.
How could you have helped that abuse, so directly to continue and think
for a second that you are a therapist! A trained therapist???!!! OMG, I
was horrified!
>From what you told me you were a co-perpetrator who had been trained to
know better! And you had the gall to tell me that it was Tara's ANGER
that you feel is sick? Buddy, you are the sick one. Tara has every
reason to be angry. That anger she is expressing is sane. NOT
expressing anger about these abuses is what is wrong.
So what if she is expressing the anger in ways that are not
esthetically pleasing to you? So what if she refers to male genitalia?
It was male genitalia that was being used to abuse these female
disciples, con them into the sex act. Do I think Tara is going to cut
off any male genitalia? No.
I think she has a deep and loving relationship with Odysseus and at the
moment is caring for her FATHER, who is dying of cancer. It's not men
who are so bad for their having genitalia or sex with men that is bad.
It's the ABUSE of power by men who set themselves up to be worshipped
as reincarnate lamas, holy teachers of The Truth. It's conning women
into sex acts to use them and camouflage it as something that it is
not.
Hiding the truth about these ILLEGAL abuses that are going on on a MASS
SCALE for DECADES is wrong. Letting it go on by not talking about it is
wrong.
Have a look in your heart. Have some cojones to talk about this,
openly. Here, now. That is the right thing to do.
Protect your identity if you want to but come here and speak the truth
and let it help others. Let this be a place where this sexual abusing
of women by Tibetan lamas starts to end."
Geir
all of Tibetans doing abuse in the world and in India will be revealed
right here.
This is the whammo part of the testimonies. Others being brought nto
the picutre. Seagal here we come ! Sogyal and the others too ! India
will be statggering now in the future and will not stand up again in my
opinion. They sure messed it all up ! "Roll on doggies" ! Corruption in
Buddhism will not win !
"RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF AMLEARNING
January 12, 2004, No. 1
From: oscar
To: AmLearning
Posted: Sat Jan 03, 2004 1:40 pm
Subject: Sogyal R
Hello " AmLearning",
I have read your account of your horrible experiences with Sogyal
Rinpoche and I can confirm many similar events happening during the
time (mid 80's to beginning 90's) when I was in a leading position in
Rigpa Org in Europe. Because of the obvious abuse of female students, I
confronted SR , who called me a friend at that time, several times (he
did not even try to justify his behaviour spiritually), then first I
resigned from my position and later left Rigpa fellowship. I did not
want to give my name anymore as a person of trust to be misused to help
to recruit women to Rigpa to eventually be abused by the SR ("lama
care").
I am very interested in the information about the lawsuit against SR
which I guess took place recently, and which you mention in your
comment on the Kazi case.
With best wishes
~oscar~
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
From: oscar
To: AmLearning
Posted: Tue Jan 06, 2004 1:32 pm
Subject: my story
Dear AmLearning,
Thank you for keeping my privacy and answering in length to my email. I
will tell you a bit of my story, and having discovered ambu-bulletin
board only one day after you, I will need more time to carefully
consider my next steps. I have no interest to join into something which
is not yet clear to me what the motivations of some of the people are.
I write to you because you appear to me clear, well thought, and
responsible. This makes your contributions to me more trustworthy than
many of the other posts.
Some are horrible and have very bad energy themselves. I find the
papers on narcissism in the bulletins quite correct. But let me say
that also: what “Odysseus” and “Ambu” say in many of their posts is
very horrible and unacceptable to me. When Ambu wants to get all men
fucked and wants to cut their balls, I can’t see her anymore in any
moral position to criticize others. If you want to change something for
the better, you must try yourself to live up to the values you want to
defend or support as good as you can. I am very hesitant about putting
something into the American Buddha bulletin because many of the posts
there are of very low ethics and using words and expressions which do
not represent my values and the way I want to change something for the
better. This kind of complaining and judging and talking reminds me of
adolescents who yell at their parents and blame them for everything
they do without putting the same high standards on themselves. But we
are adult. So I must say very clear: I will not become a member of
another sect. I see this danger very clear in this forum, and this will
take the power away from the justified and necessary actions to stop
people like SR abusing their students and abusing religion, and the
trust of many good people. Abuse is always soul murder, and sexual
abuse in so called spiritual context is for me the worst. It makes me
sick. But some of the posts there are as sickening and disgusting. I
can see the damage which has been done to these people, and I can feel
the pain behind it, but I think one has to consider one's actions very
well and one's words as well, not to go on a similar level as the
people criticized. In that way they are working for those they try to
fight. They put themselves down with gossip, and I get the feeling they
put themselves up. As a therapist, I can see the need for expression
of strong feelings, and that those feelings are bitter and not very
subtle, but going public it needs another stage in the dealing with the
trauma. One must be very aware of one's actions, not to be surprised by
what kind of response one might get. There is a great danger that you
point to somebody with one finger and don’t see that three fingers are
pointing towards you.
So here is a bit more of my story:
In the mid 80's, during my seven years with Rigpa and 4 years as
founding director of a national Rigpa branch, I had slowly discovered
that Sogyal Rinpoche had sex with very many disciples. Even though I
was very close to SR, it took me some time to notice the obvious. Even
though I am a professional counselor, it took me quite some time to
notice it at all, and then it took me even more time to take action.
First, at the same time I was shocked and kind of amused, I felt
somehow mixed about it, because in the beginning I saw that some women
tried to get him. First I thought, they are mature woman, they know
what they are doing, and I simply am too inexperienced in the exotic
ways of Tibetan Lamas to be able to judge. It was much later that I
heard stories and saw things which were not based on consent, and saw
that he was cheating all the time on the women. Also I noticed that he
had sex with young students who just had come to Rigpa retreats for the
fist time.
There was the harem, and the women seemed to be able and ok with their
role in the game. At least I wanted to believe this, still trying to
see SR as a holy man. On the other side, I found always obstacles to
consider SR as my guru. I considered myself at that time more as a
Buddhist manager and some kind of assistant of SR than as a disciple of
him. I could see Dilgo Khyentse or the Dalai Lama as true masters, but
SR appeared to me always more as a teacher who teaches Buddhism, or
many times as a salesman who sells Buddhism. When I was in power at my
national Rigpa branch, I always extinguished most of the superlatives
in the flyers. I said to SR: either you are true and good and people
will find out themselves, or if not they will also find out. So don’t
tell them what they should think or how good they should think about
you. True quality will speak for itself. With me, he accepted such
words, but I heard my successors had to put on the praise line again.
Well back to the abuse subject:
I confronted first jokingly, then half-heartedly Sogyal with my
concerns about his behaviour, and I said to him that as a therapist I
know about transference phenomena: students see the teacher as kind of
a father figure, so sex with the student is psychologically seen as
incest. Also, that in the West, the relationship between teacher and
student, or priest and the parishioner, must be kept pure, and does not
allow intimate relationships or involvement with sex in any way. He
was not amused, and tried to avoid the subject, but he first tried to
justify his sexual behaviour spiritually. First he said that because he
is one of the incarnations of Padmasambhava, and that Padmasambhava had
had many "spiritual consorts", he would be somehow entitled to do so.
Then he played the cultural card: in Tibetan culture women are seen as
Dakinis, and they would happily serve the Lamas for enhancing their
spiritual power and so on. I am ashamed, but first I wanted to believe
all this. Raised in an over-sanctimonious, hypocritical catholic
background, I was somehow trained for bending the truth, and trained to
idealize and respect people of position even more than supposedly
“holy” men. My spiritual and emotional hunger made be blind to my own
values and my professional standards - at least where the standards of
a Lama are concerned, not in my own work. For some years I was blind
with my own position. I was together with other dear friends
establishing a very well-working organisation to benefit many people. I
was happy. I was in a very special position. I honestly tried to use my
possibilities well. I felt I was chosen, and because of karmic
connections with Sogyal, I was finally recognized in my full capacity.
What the bitter irony is, because other students saw me as a rather
independent, seemingly critical, and reasonable person, and because I
am a psychotherapist, some people took me as a guarantee for trusting
Sogyal. And I guess some people even envied my special access to SR. By
that time I could no longer ignore what was happening. Once Sogyal
wanted me to lie on the phone to a woman, who wanted to contact him
after having had sex with him another day, because he was in bed with
another one, but I refused. He became very angry and yelled at me, but
I was not impressed. Basically, he treated me always very good. He
seemingly respected me, but now I think he was clever enough to not
treat me like some of his other main students. He gave me the feeling
that he appreciated my views at least as long I helped him to please
the audience and the students. But he never was open to criticism
concerning his personal behaviour. Also, he never answered any of my
personal spiritual questions. I got more and more the impression that
he simply could not answer them. Also, when I attended sessions where
he should answer questions by his students, he often gave very stupid
answers, and showed that he had not much understanding of what people
were really asking. Sometimes he ridiculed people.
One of the worst things I experienced was at a winter retreat in
Germany. A long term student of his was in emotional distress and asked
in obvious pain and vulnerability and confusion for his help, and he
forced her to speak louder and then to come forward to the stage where
he put her completely down. In my view, he was totally afraid of her,
and could not deal with the situation whatsoever. But instead of
putting her into safe hands, he tried to save himself in putting her
down and ridiculing her, and then played the strong teacher who can
deal with everything. In the same night, we had to rush her to the
emergency ward of the next psychiatric hospital with a nervous
breakdown and a psychotic seizure.
As a therapist and as a student, I was horrified by his behaviour and
his complete lack of compassion and skill. Before I left Rigpa, an
American woman told me confidentially and in great distress that she
had just lost her husband and had come from US to France to SR to get
help, and that SR, during a private audience, had tried to violently
force her to have sex with him. Fortunately, she managed not to be
raped. She left the retreat in even greater despair and completely
shocked. This was the worst incident which I heard from firsthand.
SR did not respect any limits: he had sex with most of the wives of the
leading students at Rigpa. I tried to keep myself and my private life
out of his. I tried not to mix with his affairs. Sogyal had a
classical harem, and he knew all the tricks to make the obvious
invisible, or if that did not work, to change the context of the
students’ values, giving the whole thing a spiritual excuse, and abuse
fears and naivety, or the good belief of his students to get what he
wanted. It’s 12 years ago that I quit Rigpa, so I have no more first
hand information of SR’s doing now, but I must say I have little doubt
that everything is the same today, because I consider him an addict.
He is hooked on sex and power.
When I have more time I will write more professionally on the
psychology of the guru-student relationship and of abuse. What
interests me most is why people “agree” to be abused and what hinders
them to see the truth. And how to help others to discover their own
truth, and how to stop people like SR from going on.
Please again this is confidential, and I will take action, but I will
choose my own way according to my values and my autonomy. It is a
painful process for me to look after all these years more deeply into
my own behaviour and acts. I need my time so that I can be really of
use for others who need help. Just acting without having my personal
process at a certain point could do more harm than good.
Thank you for listening, and it's very good that you study the
psychological background of what happened to you. You are very
courageous. I hope that you can heal and learn from it and help others.
Of course it would be easy to identify me quickly -- maybe you have
already -- but the story is on trusting, so I trust you.
Best regards
oscar"
Geir
against the abusers. Looks like this going on the web now will make the
abll start rolling for them all now. !!!! It's just the right time for
it to go on the block now ! These guys have been at it far far too long
and the victims are all getting old too. Time to go for closure now.
Time for finalizing the action.
Geir
public they should write in and do that here because otherwise it'll
just all come out like pulling a string from a sweater that will all
unwind until nothing is left of it. Like a car with a tank-leeak
that'll just empty out, sputter to a stop and pull over, once and for
all.
The whole of Tibetan Buddhism will thus be brought to it's final halt
and the successor that's prophecied, Kalachakra, will bring on it's
Shambala Kingdom here and realise that prediction. The whole of Tibetan
Buddhism will berazed and the realisation that's prophecied will come
about. It will rise upon the rubbles of deceit, corruption and evil.
The fact of my being Ngorpa is also predicted, in the fact of our
founder being called the "Second Buddha" in his prophecies. I'm not
doing anything myself but just unveiling what's already on the web by
ABOL, and just passing it on to the world.
Here's the installment of the day :
"RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF AMLEARNING
January 12, 2004, No. 2
From: Pema Zangmo
To: AmLearning
Posted: Thu Jan 08, 2004 9:06 am
Subject: Your experience of Tibetan Lamas
I admired your strength and clarity in expressing yourself.
You certainly told it as it was! Like you, I experienced many similar
things, not least the pain of not finding the means to express my
thoughts and feelings. I too found this website after much searching
and was able to write the article "The Thorn in the Lotus" under my
Tibetan name of Pema Zangmo. I'm just dropping a note here to let you
know how moved I was to read your experience, and that I intend to join
in the discussion when I can find the time. The subject is a very
delicate one, and I want to be sure I can find the right words.
I do feel that our minds have been raped and the Tibetan Lamas have a
lot to answer for. Yet I continue with my practice as a solitary
yogini, (Buddhist, Christian, Sufi). I urge women to continue with
their spiritual path, trusting their own intuition and their heart of
hearts. I do believe through having had direct experience in dreams and
during my normal waking consciousness of a "Secret" Dakini and
Sambhogakaya activity. This is stuff I am reluctant to flash out on the
Internet! I feel that over many generations the Lamas have claimed this
energy for their own and have used women to access it. For me, their
greatest crime is not just their stupid sexual immaturity, and the
damage they have done to women as a result, but their distortion of the
Teachings.
This is the angle where I shall be coming from in ensuing discussions
on the website. I look forward to communicating with you and Tara
again.
With warm wishes and high regard
Love Pema Zangmo"
Geir
"RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF AMLEARNING
January 12, 2004, No. 3
Oscar,
Please contact Interpol and speak with a detective there who specialses
in crime connected to religion, corruption, fraud and con artists.
What Sogyal is doing is setting himself up as a religious leader, using
a religious book about death and dying, that he did not even write but
takes credit for writing, to seduce women who are grieving, in critical
distress, and then sexually abuse them. He is raking in MILLIONS of
dollars committing these crimes. His bases are international.
You are a witness to these crimes. You KNOW the truth. Please help the
police to stop creating more victims of this outrageous and disgusting
abuse!
INTERPOL
General Secretariat
200, quai Charles de Gaulle
69006 Lyon
France
Fax: (33) 4 72 44 71 63
http://www.interpol.int/Public/Links/PolJust.asp#france
Or contact a head office in your local police organisation to speak
with a detective who specialises in fraud or sexual assault". Or here,
England:
Is someone crossing your line of what's right or wrong?
Crimestoppers is the independent charity operating the freephone 0800
555 111 helping to prevent and solve crimes. The scheme allows you to
give information about crimes that affect you and your local community.
Because we are anonymous, meaning we don't want your name or address,
no one will ever know you made the call. Your calls are not traced and
you will never have to give a statement or go to court.
With your help, Crimestoppers have been successfully helping to make
communities safer for 15 years and our promise of anonymity has never
been broken.
If you have information about crime that you want to share call
Crimestoppers on 0800 555 111.
Or a sexual assault investigative team, such as the Sapphire section of
Scotland Yard:
http://www.met.police.uk/sapphire/sapphire_contact.htm
You can contact the Project Sapphire Team in several ways:
Project Sapphire
Territorial Policing Headquarters
Victoria Embankment
London
SW1A 2JL
Tel.: 020 7321 7359 / 7179
Fax: 020 7321 9004
e-mail:
sapp...@met.police.uk
Please take immediate action Oscar."
Geir : "Gulp !" Wonder if the Tibetan lamas will be freaked out by
this. He he he ! They shouldn't have been the naughty guys and
all-round scam artists they were all the time. Game over ! Now's the
time to pay through the nose ....hefty. And the tab goes back to the
start of it all. It's payback-time !
Geir
now with two installments-in-one.
Don't see any people standing up to defend the lost honour of lost
Tibet. Don't see the frauds stood up for. Too bad for them. There's
still a morality in this world and people are ashamed of them.
"RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF AMLEARNING
January 13, 2004
Dear Tiger Lily,
I just wanted to commend you on sharing what is obviously painful and
nerve-wracking stuff coming up for you, while you are struggling with
your dog's illness.
I just wrote to a couple of cult experts and a journalist about the
Sogyal situation, hoping their experience and wisdom can offer
practical, legal ideas about how to help people from becoming Sogyal's
future victims.
If I can find the name of the lawyer who helped "Jane Doe" and me with
the case a decade ago, I will post his details. Maybe Oscar can contact
him and open another lawsuit. It could well be a class action lawsuit
since there are so many victims. Actually, I do know another lawyer in
NYC who deals with abuses by the Catholic Church, but I don't think any
American lawyer would be of help in a case in England or France. I
think Oscar needs to seek legal counsel in the country where the abuses
occurred that he witnessed, and the legal jurisdiction of that country
will be what decides the legal action that can be taken.
I believe that "Jane Doe" could sue Sogyal in the USA because the
abuses he committed in her case occurred not just in England but also
in America.
And Oscar is right about Sogyal's aggrandising himself with
high-falootin' words of self-flattery. What used to be called simply,
"The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying" is now a trumpet being blown by
a Narcissist: "The Tibetan Book of Living and Dying: A New Spiritual
Classic from One of the Foremost Interpreters of Tibetan Buddhism to
the West," by Patrick Gaffney (Editor), Andrew Harvey (Editor), Sogyal
Rinpoche (Author)
Oh puleeeez, what hogwash! It should be called, "The Tibetan Art of
Lies and Lying."
As far as I know from "Jane Doe" and others who contacted me in 1993,
and 1994, Andrew Harvey wrote most of the book and Sogyal put his name
on it. Andrew is an ex-cult devotee of Sogyal's who opted OUT.
You said:
"We were told by Sogyal that when a Master meets a Dakini he has to
rape her to gain her secrets, because she will never just give them
away. (I've also heard that elsewhere). It was meant to be funny. What
an aggressive male way to interpret a mystery of such unfathomable
beauty."
Yes, it sounds like victims were being "groomed" for the abuse that he
would then perpetrate.
Interpol talks about the "grooming" a pedophile does in preparing their
victims. I think the same "grooming" is being done in cults where the
'leader' sets the victim up to be sexually abused:
http://www.interpol.com/Public/Children/SexualAbuse/Default.asp.
"The majority of sex offenders groom their victims, this can take many
months, even years, and often begins with the process of grooming the
parents of the child.
The pedophile may recognize that a family were having difficulty in
managing the logistics and finances of the household and befriend them
with offers of assistance, both financial and in kind. Eventually
having gained the trust of the parent the offender then offers to baby
sit or take the child on outings during which time he then moves on to
begin the process of grooming the child victim.
This part of the grooming process is the most crucial. The pedophile
knows that he has to be able to control the child to the extent that he
can sexually abuse him or her with the knowledge that the child will
not disclose to another adult the fact that they have been sexually
abused.
This control is obtained in many different ways, fear, oppression,
favours, threats against either the child or their parent, making the
child feel guilty about what has happened or by using a combination of
these methods.
A typical example of how a pedophile operates would be the initial
identification of a vulnerable parent who has either one or a number of
children. It may be a single mother who having gone through an
acrimonious divorce has had to move to accommodation that is smaller or
of a lesser standard than her and the children are used to residing in.
Family finances are stretched and there is less money available in the
household for food, clothing and leisure activities.
Once the new family unit is stable, the pedophile will then make his
move, typically he may as part of his grooming process slowly
introduced the family into accepting communal nudity within the home
by, for example, leaving bathroom doors open whilst in use.
Eventually the pedophile will sexually abuse his victim, he will have
perfected a strategy to ensure their silence utilizing one or a number
of the methods previously outlined.
In this example it isn’t difficult to comprehend the dilemma that the
child has been put in. Her mother has found a new partner in life, she
is very happy, the pedophile will have told his victim that if she
‘tells’ then he will go to prison, there will be no extra money coming
into the household, there will be no more nice holidays for her and her
mother. Her mother won’t believe her and will not love her anymore as a
result. In order to protect her mothers happiness and the new family
the victim remains silent.
This example is typical of how a pedophile may identify and ultimately
abuse a child anywhere in the world, however, there are many other
scenarios which could be used to describe how pedophiles infiltrate
families, communities or organizations with the sole intent of sexually
abusing children."
You said:
"I'm not an accomplished yogini, nor anyone special, yet I have had
about a handful of powerful nyams which I know in this day and age are
very unusual. Bar one, they took place during sleep. I'm only
mentioning this to make the point that they took place during times I
was also capable of doing exceedingly stupid things. One of them, the
first seems to have been a genuine encounter with Dakini activity. I
was doing Vajrasattva ngondro at the time in retreat at my old home. I
will speak of it here, (though with great reluctance) because as
extraordinarily life changing as it was, I still went on to make
hopelessly foolish decisions in seeking out Lamas to be my partners. It
was a forceful dream that completely swept me up with a power of its
own into a radically different form of non-dual blissful consciousness.
The nature of the dream was Yab-Yum and clear light, and receiving a
message. It finally ended with me pondering an unfamiliar script in the
sky, at which point my intellect interfered and I fell down, down, down
and woke up.
I know these things should not be talked about, especially plastered
over the Internet for god's sake, but I sort of feel ok about it
because I have not divulged the message, though I have done so to a
handful of trusted friends, and I probably shouldn't have, and I won't
in the future.
The point I am trying to make here is that one can (and if I can,
anyone can) have powerful awakening experiences and still be pretty
much fucked up in other areas of one's life."
I think it would be okay to not talk in detail about what is very
privately meaningful to you, your awakening experiences, if you don't
want to.
Yes, I agree with you I do think that that one can "have powerful
awakening experiences and still be pretty much fucked up in other areas
of ones life".
However, I do not think that is the case with Sogyal. I do NOT think he
has had or ever had any awakening experiences. I think he's just a
mess; a conniving, abuser, who takes advantage of people when they are
not really even there emotionally, but grieving terrible loss, and very
fragile. I mean, imagine you grieving for your dog, or Tara grieving
for her father, reaching out to Sogyal for spiritual comfort, and being
faced with either sexual assault, being sexually molested, seduced,
raped, battered, or 'just' verbally abused.
I think lots of people in the world throughout history have had
experiences that feel spiritually powerful in one way or another. And
they went on to have regular lives. I don't think these experiences
necessarily make a person emotionally or practically healthy in any
way. I think they are just that, experiences, that need to be
incorporated in sane, healthy ways into ordinary life.
You said:
"So, is this what is happening with the Lamas?"
Who knows? There are lots of kinds of "lamas". The word means
'teacher'. Some are professors of Buddhist logic, some are
administrators of monasteries, some are doctors. If a person sits
through a 3 year, 3 month, 3 day retreat, anybody can be called a lama,
"fucked up" or not.
Often in Tibetan culture a CHILD is called a lama, for very political
reasons, when they are pronounced a reincarnation by another so-called
reincarnation. Is that child capable of teaching? I don't think so.
When this child 'lama' grows up in a monastery, being brainwashed for
20 years, is that a person who has had a CHOICE to be a teacher? I
don't think so.
Just because somebody calls himself a lama, a 'teacher', does that mean
they ARE? I don't think so.
Even if they are a teacher and had some "awakening", does that
necessarily mean they are well people? I don't think so.
You said:
"Though I am asking myself whether such experiences do not belong to
the Eastern Tradition alone, but are within the capacity of every human
being. It is a function of the human mind."
Throughout history there have been many, many people who said they had
mystical experiences. So much of what was not understood about the mind
before, about life, was treated like it was soooo strange, when now
it's routine because people have worked on problem solving, learning
science, and practical-reality-based knowledge about how things work.
Now people don't think they will fall off the edge of the world, or
that a bout of indigestion is demonic possession as they once did.
Scientists, like in the book about belief systems and the brain, see
that there is a part of the brain that can literally be pressed with an
electrode and automatically the person whose brain is being touched
there has a cosmic bliss, cosmic union, non-dual awakening experience.
It's described differently by the person's belief system, but the
experience of that blissful state can be replicated with the touch of
an electrode. Check out the book, "Why God Wont Go Away : Brain Science
and the Biology of Belief," by Authors Eugene G. DAquili , Vince Rause
, M.D. Andrew Newberg Released: 26 March, 2002
You said:
"However the Tibetan Lamas and yogins seem to have monopolized it and
have somehow managed to steal power over women. So we are being
raped."
Well they do not have the monopoly on this raping of the desire to
connect with the Divine or non-dual awakening, whatever you want to
call it. Have a look at Steven Hassan's cult recovery site:
http://groups.yahoo.com/group/freedomofmind/
There are many people there who were raked over the coals by cult
leaders of all kinds, all shapes, all traditions. I think they all
feel, and were, very ripped off. Some were raped, literally.
At the moment, the Tibetan lamas are in fashion in the West, and so
students of TB are more likely at this time to be hurt. There needs to
be a heads up, and clear warnings to people about this, such as the
discussion on this board by people who have had first-hand experience
with abusive lamas.
May I ask you Tiger Lily about the abuses you experienced with lamas?
What were they and what was it that you were trying to tell others all
these years and were not heard?
all the best,
AmLearning"
Geir
"RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF AMLEARNING
January 14, 2004
Dear Oscar, Tiger Lily, Tara and Charles,
Wow, all I can think of is wow. What an amazing and freeing
conversation this has been for me this last week! hank you all so much
for sharing your true selves valiantly.
Tara, I felt very similar feelings about Oscar's posts that you
expressed. Really, I felt so enraged by what seemed to be his
sanctimonious, finger-wagging, moralising cowardice, when he, a trained
therapist, saw what he saw and did nothing, for the 7 years he was in
his little official role as part of the abuse support network, then for
12 years after that. And his arrogance for not understanding your
expression of anger as natural, sane, appropriate in light of the
betrayal of the lamas setting themselves up to be PROSTRATED to as
LIVING BUDDHAS teaching THE TRUTH ... I was almost apoplectic with
anger at Oscar, physically sickened.
He seemed to be more concerned about appearing like Mr. Pompous
Rational Analyzer than he is about seeing that the abuses Sogyal has
been perpetrating have DEVASTATING effects on people's lives. The
combination of his vanity and cowardice felt really toxic to me. I want
to DO something practical to STOP the abuses.
But ... as the week went by and my own feelings came up, it has been a
profound experience to remain in the dialogue here. I feel for the
first time in many years a deeper peace.
Tiger Lily, thank you for sharing your vulnerability. I think you are a
very brave person.
Charles, I feel very comforted by your company here.
Oscar, wow, your last post blew my mind. Congratulations for coming
here, sharing your thoughts. That took cojones. If you would stop being
so worried about the feeling-ful use of expressions of anger that Tara
uses, I think you would see her moral intentions in being here and
sharing her painful feelings. What happens when your clients use
obscenities in expressing their anger? Is there a censor in your office
that says anger should be only expressed in 'nice' ways?
You are right Oscar, I was angry with myself for playing a part in the
abuse I survived. But I was 22 to 28 years old, not a professional
therapist. Still, I can very much relate to your post today and what
you said. And I imagine that Tara, Tiger Lily and Charles also can
relate.
My anger is really that you would not come into the OPEN and SHARE with
OTHERS here. Now that you are here and sharing your true self, I'm glad
and proud of you that you did. I hope you stay and talk about this with
us all, not to be part of an anti-sect sect but to genuinely talk about
this and think about it and let feelings come up genuinely. I do think
this subject needs healing for all of us.
When one is ALONE in feeling these feelings about spiritual betrayal,
especially when others want there to be SILENCE and SECRECY, the anger
comes up a lot about hiding the truth, feeling invalidated. Yes, it
feels to me like being a kid and yelling and nobody believing what I'm
saying. It hurts not to be believed about something true and be told to
hide the truth.
The truth you told in your post needs to be out there Oscar, not
hidden. Like Charles says, people are so scared of telling the truth
that people are forced by the use of subpoenas to get them into court
to tell the truth. I genuinely felt very badly posting your post
without your permission. I apologise to you. I also believe that what
you wrote to me was very powerful and WILL help others a LOT. I wanted
to share the truth you wrote and I did. In time I believe you will see
the good that came from that. Even so, I'm sorry I hurt you by forcing
your post into the public. Please forgive me.
Now you are here and we are all here, please stay and talk. I know you
will read our posts because this IS an important topic to you, to who
you are. And what we have to say here will, I do believe, have a good
and healthy impact on others as well as ourselves.
all the best,
AmLearning "
Geir
"RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF AMLEARNING
January 19, 2004
Tiger Lily said:
"I'm just starting to realise how terribly painful and confusing that
must have been to receive such gross sexual advances from men you were
wanting to see in a pure fatherly light.
I understand your anger at coming to a forum where you felt people
weren't listening or not caring about your pain. Not caring about you.
I think if you give us time, we are all here for you.
How you must loathe the very word Dakini that has been so misunderstood
by western practitioners and the Lamas who played around with their
sex, projecting a deluded Dakini vision onto a woman and so
invalidating her as a woman in her own right."
Hi dear Tiger Lily,
Hmm, it's nice to be challenged to think about things in new ways I
think, when the intentions behind the challenge feel well-wishing and
if genuine consideration has gone into the challenge. I appreciate what
you said to me in that light and have been mulling over what you said.
Human beings live in a continuum of time. Who we were as children, what
culture was our background, our language, family history ... it and our
individual response to what we were born into, our reactions and
actions, all go into who we become as adults and what we are attracted
to, what we choose to do or feel compelled to do with our lives.
I was attracted to the 4 Noble Truths because as a 10-year-old I sensed
the hypocrisy in the pill-box hatted, white-gloved, Stepford wife,
Jackie-Onassis-as-a-role-model that was being dished out to females in
1963. The pill-box-hat reality did not feel sane, safe or good to me at
the core. I don't know why but it didn't. Maybe it was because I grew
up in a privileged environment and at the same time suffered serious
abuse in that arena. Rich and white became something to hate for me but
I had no ideas about any other life that could possibly be a Good Way
To Live And Think.
The 4 Noble Truths leapt off the page of my history book and burned
into my child's mind as a possible way out of my suffering that came
with fancy trappings. I was being badly abused at home. I'm lucky to be
alive, it was that bad. It was my biological mother who was the abuser.
My dear father, who was a scientist, had abandoned us kids and left,
after he’d tried to handle his violent, psychopathically-traited wife,
who I learned about 7 years ago has Narcissistic Personality Disorder.
Here was somebody, the Buddha, in this 4th grade history book, talking
about suffering, and a path out of that suffering, not just trying to
white-glove it away. So I went to the local museum and looked at the
stone heads and statues of the Buddha, with their serene expressions,
simple, dignified postures, and yearned for what seemed to me like wise
composure in the face of openly knowing about suffering.
But at that time I had NO idea how to learn about Buddhism. I went to
book stores and read koans, but what could I get from the idea of one
hand clapping? Zip. Where was the understanding there? It made no sense
at all! And I sensed in those books some sort of smug ridiculing
knowing about anything or valuing the mind or life. It felt nihilistic
to me. Nope, Zen was not for me.
Then Evans-Wentz' book on the bardo ... that made a different kind of
NO sense to me, some anthropological fascination with views on death?
What good was that to me? None that I could see.
Years later I read Cutting Through Spiritual Materialism in the winter
of 1974, just after I turned 21 and went to live in Rome, in a room in
an apartment with an elderly woman landlady. Reading that book affected
me so profoundly, I went into a sort of fevered delirium I'd never
experienced in my life. Maybe I got some sort of bizarre illness that
lasted 3 days with no other symptoms than a raging fever ... whatever
it was, I spent 3 days in bed, with my landlady bringing me soup in the
afternoon after I spent 23 out of the 24 hours in some nightmare dream
state. The dream was about the realms of suffering, the earth covered
with misery in a Boschian purgatory. What could be the way out of that
endless suffering?! That book gave me no answers. I had no idea that
Trungpa was Buddhist or that there were living teachers. I thought
Buddhist teachers had all died out. I really did. I thought there was
no way out of all this suffering and I just didn't want to live any
more.
It cast me into suicidal depression. After packing my belongings and
saying goodbye to my kind landlady, I rented a hotel room in Albergo
Paradiso, fully enjoying the irony in the name of this squalid flea pit
of a hotel, that looked out over the statue of Giordano Bruno, the
alchemist who had been burned at the stake in that plaza, Campo Dei
Fiori, in Trastevere.
I didn't die; I couldn't razor blade deeply enough. My squeamishness
kept me alive, and I left Rome in a depressed daze to live on a tiny
island in Greece, by myself, to work on being a writer there in the
olive orchards. I realised that I knew nothing about life really,
wasn't capable of being a writer, and never wrote anything but letters
again. It was from there, half a year later, that I mostly hitched to
India over 2 months, arriving in MCloud Ganj in October 1975, just
after seeing the Taj Mahal in the Dusshera full moon, floating there in
the mist, at the hour of the cow dust, in the twilight. I fell deeply
in love with India.
It was while in that dreamy ecstasy that I think can be experienced by
people who are attracted to India's multi-layered, kaleidoscopic chaos,
that I stayed at the Library of Tibetan Works and Archives, managing to
live in India for 5 months on 70 dollars. Here, I thought, I would be
living near and around genuine Buddhist monks who would teach me
something I'd wanted to know about for a decade, how to work on the
cessation of suffering. I was willing, able and interested.
In my first 5 months in India, there was a Bhutanese 'monk' who
attempted to rape me as I walked back to my lodgings in Bodhgaya, where
I went on pilgrimage to see the Bodhi tree, and where Sakyamuni was
said to have attained enlightenment. As a result, I blamed my long
blonde hair as to why this 'monk' was induced to try and rape me. So,
after smacking this 'monk' in the face with a resounding crack that
left me feeling guilty for years, I escaped from his muscled grip and
ran back to the tourist bungalow and cut off most of my hair, and later
wore clothes that would be best described as tent-like. Back in the
USA, it was with my cut-off hair and in my almost floor length, made in
Calcutta, dark brown tent dress that I went to see Sogyal. That was
when he assaulted me.
After the 4 or so months I knew Sogyal in the USA, anything that
smelled like an excuse to abuse people sexually, like so-called Tantric
sex and so-called using 'dakinis to get 'energy', and most of the
ritual elements of TB, repelled me.
Yes, my having been sexually abused as a child and turning to lamas as
loving parent figures, who took advantage of that sexually, was very
traumatizing. When Geshela asked to see my breasts I tried to write it
off as just curiosity, a monk who hadn't seen a white woman's breasts
before. I was trying to accept that maybe what I needed was to talk
with a teacher who was MARRIED and had a family, a more worldly-wise
lama, which prompted me to think in 1980 that Sakya Trizin would be a
man to talk with about my feelings of existential aloneness. He had
lost his parents when he was a tiny child, and been brought up by an
aunt who had recently died. I thought maybe he could understand my own
sense of loss, not having a family.
Since he had been giving me private teachings on the Dzogchen
meditation part of my yidam practice, seeing the unawakened states as
the flip side of the same awakened states, I asked him about how it was
that lust and compassion were related. He said like water and ice. That
water and ice are the same substance in different forms.
That seemed so wise to me! Like water and ice! Compassion is the
free-flowing aspect of love and lust is its arrested, 'frozen' mode.
Ah, how beautiful that seemed. Back I went to the meditation cushion
with delight! This added a new dimension to ‘going with the flow’.
A week later he said he had a vision of him yab-yum with me as Dorje
Phurba. Immediately I felt suspicious, but at the same time somewhat
shocked and also flattered that this His Holiness person included me
unconsciously or consciously as part of his 'path'. But moments later,
as I got up to leave our hourly lesson in meditation, he said he had
this vision and wanted me 'do it' with him. I said "You must be
joking". He became visibly, audibly angry with me and scowlingly said,
"No, I want to come to your room tomorrow morning when I go for my walk
and do this."
My blood went cold. This lama I had come to trust over the months I'd
spent studying with him, thinking I could respectfully share my doubts,
worries, meditation questions, needs to understand certain texts. It
all seemed to be finally happening, a quiet, simple rapport with a
Buddhist teacher. No rituals, no bs, just working on meditation
practice.
Then, bam, it was in that instant shattered. I didn't listen to my
inner voice that wanted to say no. I didn't say no. I said alright but
my heart was cold and my stomach sick. What if maybe this was it, the
actual transformation of a worldly activity into a yogic practice? Like
the Tibetan lamas said in the books and everything! What if I were
passing up this possible chance with my teacher because of my fears
stemming from being sexually abused in childhood? Maybe this was a
chance to transcend that, to let go of the attachment-revulsion
pendulum, to alchemize the worldly into the gold of awakened activity?
So I said ok.
The next morning he came up the steps to my rented apartment across the
street from the Sakya property on Rajpur Road. He quickly snuck in,
closing the door behind him and came to my bedroom. He sat on the bed,
mumbled something in Tibetan, and told me to think that what we were
about to do was for the benefit of all sentient beings I folded my
hands in prayer and prayed, and then he lifted his skirt. Below his
large belly, he put on a condom which hung off his acorn like a
windsock on a windless day. Wondering what was going to happen next,
and if anything could actually take place, I offered him oral sex. I
sincerely didn’t think he could actually function sexually. That was
when he said he was afraid that oral sex would make me pregnant. He
also said that he thought that was unclean. He asked me to lie down, he
lay on top of me, grunted in about 5 seconds and then ran for the door,
carrying the condom with him, and really I hardly felt anything at all
except somewhat numb with remorse.
So maybe he wasn't endowed enough to actually have sex except maybe for
himself? Maybe this was something that was supposed to be my disciple's
gift to him and I should just lump it, get over it with detachment.
Maybe I should just laugh at the cosmic ridiculousness and keep on
doing my meditation!
So I took a deep breath and thought, I'm just not going to think about
this, and whatever it is, well that's what it is. But the next time I
went for my class, ALL Sakya Trizin could talk about was the sex act.
That's it. He seemed highly lascivious, amused, and wanted to do it all
again. So I let him do it again. Was this a test? I was attached to
feeling remorse? Was this going to cure me of thinking about sex as
something important, and help me see the transparent folly of being
hurt by sex?
Sakya Trizin had told me at the beginning of our meditation classes
some weeks prior, to see everything as sacred, that he was to be seen
as the yidam, the world as pure, all sounds as mantras, so I focused on
that, that this was an 'enlightened' experience.
It was my trying to make lemonade out of lemons.
Then when I went to study with him, all he could talk about was sex,
wanting me to swear that I would always tell him where I was in the
world, and be available to him for sex. When his dignified, beautiful
wife walked into the room that day, he went into a sort of
cold-shouldering me that seemed like he was worried he might have been
talking too loudly, and might have gotten caught by her talking about
this with me. From then on he whispered to me.
It is widely known he married for political reasons: "In order to
maintain the tradition of the Khon family lineage, in 1974, H. H. Sakya
Trizin married Dagmo Kusho Tashi Lhakyet, the daughter of the Minister
of the King of Derge." So I thought maybe his life was
compartmentalized: political marriage here, “sang-yum” there, mother
over there, and maybe he needed a person with whom to 'do' his yab-yum
yidam practice and I was just a handy orifice who was also a dedicated
disciple. I was to be used but not somehow included in this process????
I could see I got nothing out of these 2 encounters except confusion,
remorse, some shame. But I had faith that he must know what he was
doing because after all, he was a Holiness, and everybody held him in
high esteem. My doubts must be out of ignorance, selfishness, kleshas.
He made me promise not to talk about 'it' with anybody; it would be our
secret.
When I tried to discuss meditation with him over the next 2 years after
I left Rajpur and returned occasionally, he didn't have time. All he
DID have time for was wanting to talk about sex. When I went out to the
Sakya center once for a wang given by the Dalai Lama there, and another
time hoping to continue the actual meditation classes we used to have,
he cold-shouldered me. One time he stood holding his wife's hand, which
is highly unusual for any Tibetan, and I felt like I was somehow a
pariah, had done something wrong, simply by doubting him in the privacy
of my mind, my wanting to study meditation instead of just giving into
being an orifice for him. I knew over time that our meditation class
relationship had vanished and would never return.
I went into a 5 month retreat. When I came out of that retreat I
house-sat for my old friend when she and her husband were away for a
few days. When I returned from the bazaar they had returned, and the
woman, who had found my diary, read it, burned it full of holes with a
stick of incense without telling me. I discovered the burned pages a
day later, asked her why, and her venom was really painful to me,
blaming me for endangering His Holiness Sakya Trizin's reputation by
writing what I did in my diary! I had told nobody! I had written it in
MY diary!!!
So now she knew. I felt ashamed, reviled by my old, dear friend, who
blamed me for "smiling too much," and THAT was why the married Sakya
Trizin had used me like he did; I'd broken the code of secrecy by
accident, leaving my diary around for her to pry into, and so I decided
to leave Rajpur.
When Sakya Trizin came to New Delhi a few months later, he asked to see
me, nudge nudge, wink wink, make sure I'm alone so he can do the
yab-yum thing again privately in his room. I just couldn't go again.
That was the end of my connection with TB, of any trust, any faith. I
stopped my practice with fear, regret, sadness, shame, loss, grieving
the loss of my sense of community.
In the next 4 years I tried to discuss what happened with both a Gelug
nun and a Kargyu nun who I'd known well for years. They both told me to
not discuss it but keep it all secret, and if I saw/thought something
wrong it was my fault. During that time I had a large apartment in New
Delhi, where many guests, old Buddhist friends of mine, stayed when
they came to town. We would be having breakfast or dinner on the
verandah and out would come their own stories of bad experiences with
various Tibetan lamas, which they begged me to keep secret, to "protect
the lamas and the dharma".
Somehow the revelations of the truth never budged from the level of
gossip. There was no clarity about what was going on or any sense of
what direction to take, how to sort this mess out. The code of secrecy
had us all paralysed. There was no talking openly, so no clarity of
purpose, intention or feeling.
Whoever I discussed this Tibetan lack of morality with would invariably
say that "THEIR" lama (Kalu Rinpoche, Karmapa, Khamtrul Rinpoche) would
NEVER do "such a thing". Then how come these lamas were SURROUNDED by
sexual abuse and nothing was done, or it emerged that really their lama
DID do such a thing!???
My polite disinterest in the Tibetan culture ended for me when I heard
my old 'dharma sister' friend from the Library days had committed
suicide by burning herself alive as an offering in a retreat. Then that
disinterest turned into outright disgust mixed with horror.
This was after it became public knowledge that Geshela had masturbated
for years between the legs (common monastic practice as a way of not
breaking the FULL vow of celibacy but only committing a 'misdemeanor'
by not committing the monk's vow felony of full penetration) of a South
American nun he'd ordained. She had stood up in his class at the
Library and told the open-jawed room full of 30+ students what Geshela
had been doing to her for 2 years.
My dear Geshela did THAT!!! And his old disciple had suicided after
that???!!!
It was too much pain, too sad, too wrong!!! And then Geshela went to
New Zealand with that randy twerp of a zhebzhi, Khedrup Tharchin, who
always used to feel me up while I did korwa around the Library if I
didn't run fast enough away from him???!!! No responsibility? No
punishment for this breaking of vows? WHAT hypocrisy all this was AND
THE DALAI LAMA KNEW ABOUT ALL THIS AND DID NOTHING?????!!!!
My faith shattered. The sense of samaya anything snapped.
I went to Delhi and got a job in the fashion clothing business because
of my facility with Hindi/Punjabi/Urdu, which are all linguistically
intertwined in colloquial Hindustani.
Yes, after that, any adoration of tormas, dakni anything, yab-yum
anything ... it made me feel sick. I got to know the Tibetans in New
Delhi over the next 4 years, the more worldly ones, and understood
their deep contempt for all the foreign 'injis' who came East to
worship the lamas. The young, non-monk, non-Dalai Lama Administration
Tibetans really know almost nothing about their culture, history, and
philosophy. All this bowing and scraping to lamas for anything other
than "blessings", or in a medical emergency, or to appear traditional,
is nuts to them.
The Tibetans who were born in India, or who came over as little kids
from Tibet in 1959, they grew to love India as an expression of
Bollywood. Their cultural frame of reference is the amazingly kitch,
bizarre, New Indian culture, with Amitabh Bachan (India's answer to
Arnold) as a culture hero. These Tibetans never got to know
under-the-surface India, like an Indian kid would. All the New Tibetans
know about India is the thin veneer of the commercial pop drek.
It would be like somebody coming to America from Tibet and thinking
that Dallas and Dynasty TV shows from the 1980's are documentaries,
really ARE the REAL America and dressing like that, talking like that.
So the New Tibetans have this strange culture that came out of
Bollywood, which came out of Hollywood. The lamas to this new
generation are about as real and meaningful as Santa Claus.
There is incredible contempt for Westerners among the Tibetans. They
don't like anybody who isn't Tibetan, although with the New Tibetan
kids, I did see admiration for New Taiwanese kids because there was a
sense of similar features and similar materialism.
Before leaving Clement Town and going to live in Rajpur, I went sweater
vending several times with my neighbors in Clement Town just for fun.
Because I speak both Tibetan and Hindi I sat with them observing their
business transactions. The Tibetans would say in Hindi as they held up
the wool sweaters that were sent by Americans to India as part of the
charity to Bangladesh, "This is the best, most pure," and in Tibetan
they would say "shit" or "straw". The Indians thought the Tibetans were
saying "wool" in Tibetan because almost no Indians speak any Tibetan,
but almost all Tibetans living in India speak some Hindi.
The Tibetan business traders were all making fun of their Indian
customers in this devious, nasty, contemptuous way. All done with a
smiling face! There was this mask of friendliness and warmth and then
the reality of ridicule and seething anger underneath. That was
shocking to me. This was not a one off experience, this was one in a
thousand such experiences with Tibetans over a ten year period.
The next 4 years, from 1981 to the end of 1985, I lived and worked in
Delhi and knew many working Tibetans there from all over the
subcontinent: from the South, from Darjeeling, from Nepal, Sikkim,
Bhutan, Dharamsala, Manali ... and there was this ongoing contempt for
Westerners' adoration of the lamas, of Westerners period, who were
denigrated as hippies if they didn't look like John Travolta and his
dancing partner in Saturday Night Fever, which is what the young
Tibetan kids aspired to, and if a Westerner did dress well they were
spoken about as whores or somebody to try and get as a "sponsor". This
contempt for Westerners and no curiosity about Western culture in any
way, was echoed by many lamas I spoke with, like the administrator
‘rinpoches’ at the New Delhi Tibet Center.
At the same time, young Tibetans who lusted after polyester pants a la
Travolta, were somewhat horrified when Westerners were interested in
wearing yak herder boots! LOL!
So ... all this mess over a decade added up to a deep distaste for
Tibetan anything, thankas, cultural symbols. How could I feel
comfortable around people who have so much contempt for everybody else,
while they kept their hand out for everybody else's money and real
estate, and adoration? These people EXPECTED to be worshipped, pitied,
pampered, cared about, paid for, idolized, when they were just greedy
takers, who sneered at those who gave to them!
So, if you talk about "Dakini Day" with some sort of reverence, and
think it's just because the lamas betrayed my trust due to having been
sexually abused as a kid, and that's why it isn't something I like or
value, no, I learned on MANY levels over 30 years not to like Tibetan
culture.
To me, you had a feminist get-together in a kind of New Age ceremony.
That kind of thing's not my cup of tea really. I really don't like
anything spiritual in any kind of group. Something catalytically
happens in a group which just doesn’t feel healthy to me as part of my
sense of the 'spiritual', whatever that is.
If a bunch of women want to get together to grok the cosmic nature of
the universe, or have a sort of ceremony, okay, I wish you enjoyment.
But to call it "Dakini Day" isn't something I like. It makes me feel
uncomfortable to talk with you about it because it is something that IS
meaningful to you. That's your thing.
What pleases me is privately connecting with what I think of as a
"truth path", which has been formed in part from my studies of Buddhist
teachings I received in person and studied further in private, as well
as 17 years studying Western psychology. That truth path also means for
me enjoying conversation, art, walking, being in nature quietly,
studying science, reading, occasional meditation, resting my mind in a
loving awareness that is democratic, non-theistic, part American, part
Buddhist, and when I can remember to do so, being in the moment,
feeling deeply connected with the universe.
Phew. All this came pouring out this afternoon. I didn't expect to go
on such a long ramble. It feels healing to get all the gory details
out, to speak about this really and also start to think about what I
think is the baby not to be thrown out with the bath water. For me the
whole Dakini thing was flushed down the toilet. It’s not even in the
bathwater, LOL! What is the bathwater to me is Tibetan culture.
If I've bored the daylights out of you Tiger Lily or anybody else here
with my verbosity, my apologies, this has been a sort of purging,
getting it out in words, healing for me.
all the best,
AmLearning"
Wraps up the SUCK MY TRIZIN installments. Then we move on to some
others. What will it be ? Trungpa ? Osel? Seagal ? Jetsunma ? There're
so many to post that I better pick up the pace a bit and post at least
two posts a day or it'll never be finished. A slow beginning and a
faster pace later ... to finnally finish up leisurely again.... should
be the right approach.
Geir
start with the real and bad abuse there. But Carreon's ABOL "site map"
starts with Thurman's madness first so before getting to Trungpa, I'll
just put in some of "Jolly Rob" here.
"FANTASTIC BUDDHAVERSE OF ROBERT THURMAN
Illustrated by Nadir Balan
from "What is Enlightenment?", Fall/Winter 2002
Below find links to a cartoon satirizing Robert Thurman's "anything
goes" version of Tibetan Buddhism, which is very visually entertaining;
however, the dialogue may be a little difficult to read, in which case
you will want to read the transcription here at the larger
Thurman-is-an -idiot portion of our presentation, We Be Trippin'
If you are one of Bob's students at Columbia, you should ask yourself
why you are wasting your money. You could stay at home and read Inner
Revolution, the biggest pile of drivel to justify the waste of trees
that has come down the spiritual pike in some time. The man's thinking
is so mixed up that it is hard to call it thinking anymore. If you
don't believe me, read the review at Inner Revolution: Robert Thurman
Goes Back to the Future. It's a lot easier than reading the book, and
has jokes.
Table of Contents:
Part 1
Part 2
Part 3
Part 4
Part 5
Part 6
Part 7
Part 8
Go to Next Page"
also :
"WE BE TRIPPIN' WITH UMA'S DAD, AKA BOB THURMAN, "THE MONK"
by Charles and Tara Carreon
["The CIA started Tibet House, using the Dalai Lama and his first
ordained Western monk, [Robert] Thurman, now president of Tibet House
in NYC, to do the job. Leila Luce is on the board of trustees of Tibet
House, she is the wife of Henry Luce lll, whose father founded Time and
was an early supporter of the CIA, using Time magazine journalists as
operatives. Mrs. Luce is also on the board of Tricycle. 'In 1992, she
joined the board of Tricycle: The Buddhist Review, for which she is
also a consulting editor.' She has just been sued by her daughter and
granddaughter for committing sexual abuses on her daughter and
granddaughter." -- Am Learning, aka Elsa Cloud (Leila Luce's daughter)
"Robert Thurman [is] the 'academic godfather of the Tibetan cause.'”
(Time Magazine), quoted in "An Interview with Victor and Victoria
Trimondi," by James C. Stephens]
Did you ever notice how nobody ever heard of Bob Thurman, even though
he was the first monk ordained by the Dalai Lama, until a short time
after Uma showed her tits to the world in Dangerous Liaisons? You
remember that scene, where John Malkovich, long before "Being John
Malkovich," writes Glenn Close a nasty letter using Uma's perfect
spine, as in naked, for a handy writing surface, complete with quill
and nasty remarks. We had to wait until Geoffrey Rush chased Kate
Winslett through an insane assylum for a scene of similar power. But
I'm getting distracted from the main point -- Uma's tits. These are the
spheres from which Bob really launched his assault on reason and
sanity, and well empowered for the task they were. Just one look and we
all knew that monk-shit was bull-shit. This man has great taste in ass.
Okay, Charles composed the foregoing, but now the torch passes to me,
and I want to burn this little pig right in his house of sticks. Yes,
this is the big bad wolf of liberation here to call Bob Thurman out.
No, I don't need to, which is what this post is all about. Over a year
ago I posted my expose of the truly empty nature of Bob's book "Inner
Revolution," the "Brother Where Art Thou?" feel-good hit that everybody
bought, nobody read, and for which we were none the worse.
Frankly, I was disappointed when all the spit-ballers on the Trike
board did nothing to defend Bob. I thought they'd feel like I was
torching their huts, but they displayed little or no concern about my
revelation of the vacuity of Bob's life work. Comments like "Who cares
what Thurman thinks anyway?" rained down hard and fast, drenching my
parade. I had to move on to other issues that had more incendiary
qualities.
But I dare say, like a stray marijuana seed that will poke its little
serrated leaves up in the dirt outside the teacher's lounge, my
irreverent critique of Uma's dad seems to have taken root. I mean, it's
not every day a major cult monthly that retails in the food coop for
$8.95 devotes eight precious full-color pages that could be devoted to
Elizabeth Clare Prophet's global campaign for cash concentration to a
cartoon that seems to lampoon the hell out of "The Fantastic
Buddhaverse of Robert Thurman."
I loved it so much, I've transcribed it here for you from the
Fall/Winter Issue of Andrew Cohen's "What is Enlightenment" magazine.
Check it out, but before you walk through the grocery line. It will
take a few minutes to read, or rather to "experience" what the author
calls "another dimension, an alternate reality in which contemporary
notions of spiritual transformation...mix and mingle with the mythic,
the miraculous, and the other-worldly." Which is just what Charles says
about Uma's tits.
Go to "Fantastic Buddhaverse of Robert Thurman"
Illustrated by Nadir Balan
WHEN YOU BECOME A BUDDHA, YOU'RE NO LONGER JUST A BEING INSIDE THIS
SKIN...
SO FOR EXAMPLE, I'M A TEACHER, AND I HAVE TO GO TO SOME CRAPPY COLUMBIA
CLASSROOM...
...AND I GOTTA TALK IN A MICROPHONE, AND YOU STUDENTS SIT IN SOME
CRAPPY CHAIRS,
BUT IF I WAS A BUDDHA, THE CHAIRS WOULD TEACH YOU, THE ROOM. THE SHOES,
THE CLOTHES, EVERYTHING!
I WOULD SURROUND YOU WITH PEDAGOGICAL DEVICES. DO YOU KNOW WHAT I'M
SAYING?!
BECAUSE I WOULDN'T JUST BE STUCK STANDING UP OVER HERE ON THE STAGE
GIVING A TALK; I WOULD BE A WHOLE CLOUD OF THINGS!
THE MOMENT IN A BEING'S EVOLUTIONARY CONTINUUM WHEN THEY DECIDE THAT
THE UNIVERSE HAD BETTER HAVE A HAPPY ENDING, AND THEY'RE GOING TO SEE
TO IT...
...AND THAT HAPPY ENDING IS FOR THEM AND EVERYONE ELSE TO BECOME A
COMPLETE BUDDHA, THEN THEY TAKE THE BODHISATTVA VOW. "I'M GOING TO
BECOME A BUDDHA AND I'M GOING TO SAVE BEINGS." I'M GOING TO DO IT!"
IT'S NOT JUST A LITTLE SELFLESS THING. "I'M GOING TO DO IT!"
AND IT'S KIND OF AN EGOTISTICAL ALMOST MEGALOMANIAC THING THAT A
BODHISATTVA DOES. THEY GET SO PASSIONATE THEY CAN'T STAND TO WAIT FOR A
LONG PERIOD OF EVOLUTION TO SAVE OTHER BEINGS...
...SO TO SPEED UP THE PROCESS, THEY SHIFT INTO THIS VERY DANGEROUS,
SWIRLING VIRTUAL REALITY, IN ORDER TO CHANGE FAST.
THIS IS TANTRIC HIGH-TECH METHODOLOGY!!
IN THAT REALM, YOU HAVE TO ACTUALLY GO THROUGH THE SELF-TRANSFORMATION
OF GIVING YOUR LIFE TO OTHER BEINGS.
LIKE A THOUSAND TIMES IN A NIGHT.
A GUY LIKE THE TIBETAN YOGI, MILAREPA, HE'S IN A CAVE THERE, BUT
ACTUALLY HE'S IN A VIRTUAL PLANE AND IT'S LIKE HE'S DOING ONE OF THOSE
TRAINING PROGRAMS FROM THE MATRIX.
AND IT'S INCREDIBLY DANGEROUS. YOU'RE DOWN THERE SWIMMING IN YOUR
UNCONSCIOUS AND YOU'RE BRINGING UP THESE DEEP ENERGIES AND YOU'RE SORT
OF REDESIGNING YOUR GENES...
...AND YOU COMPRESS YOUR EVOLUTION IN THIS INCREDIBLY HIGH-TECH WAY.
YOU HAVE TO GO THROUGH A DEATH-REBIRTH, WHICH MEANS TO DEVELOP THE FORM
BODY OF BUDDHAHOOD, AND INSTEAD OF THREE INCALCULABLE EONS OF
EVOLUTIONARY EXPERIENCE AND SELF-TRANSCENDENCE...
YOU CAN DO IT IN ONE LIFETIME--IF YOU'RE A SUPER-DUPER PERSON!
BUT IF YOU DON'T HAVE THE FOUNDATION FOR TANTRA, WHICH IS KNOWLEDGE OF
SELFLESSNESS, THE ABILITY TO LET ANY STRUCTURE OF SELF DISSOLVE--EVEN
THE MOST POWERFUL, THE MOST MAGNIFICENT, THE MOST BEAUTIFUL STRUCTURE
OF SELF--
--YOU'LL BE REBORN AS A TITAN OR A DEVIL OR SOMETHING.
THE BODHISATTVA COMPLETELY MASTERS THE WHOLE ART OF MANIFESTATION
THROUGH THE MAGIC BODY...
...WHICH IS LIKE A DIGITAL RESIDUAL SELF-IMAGE IN A VIRTUAL, SAMADHIC
REALM WITHIN A MANDALA, WHICH IS A PROTECTIVE FORCE FIELD IN WHICH TO
VOYAGE TO INNER UNIVERSES. AND THIS IS ALL A REHEARSAL FOR DEALING WITH
THE OUTER UNIVERSE.
SO, SAY YOU WANT TO GO AND REHEARSE SAVING SOME BEINGS FROM HELL. THEN
YOU MIGHT WANT TO MEDITATE ON SOME FIERCE DEITY WITH MANY ARMS AND
WEAPONS AND DIFFERENT HEADS LOOKING IN ALL DIRECTIONS...
...AND THEN, IN YOUR IMAGINED BODY, LIKE A PEACE WALKER WEARING THE
MISSILE MAN SUIT...
YOU GO INTO HELL,
AND GET THOSE DEMONS OFF THE BACKS OF PEOPLE
...AND COOL THINGS DOWN--BRING A FIRE HOSE, WHATEVER IT TAKES!
OR YOU COULD BE A BEING THAT IMAGINES ITSELF AS FOOD,
AND WHERE THERE ARE HUNGRY AND THIRSTY PEOPLE, YOU'D STREAM CARROT
JUICE AT THEM FROM YOUR FINGERTIPS, OR POTATOES, AND WOULD COMPLETELY
FEED THEM. BY DOING THAT YOU FEED MILLIONS OF PEOPLE AND YOU GAIN THE
MERIT OF FEEDING ALL THOSE BEINGS.
SO YOU'RE ACCELERATING THE ACCUMULATION OF MERIT THAT WOULD OTHERWISE
TAKE LIFETIMES TO ACCUMULATE AND YOU'RE DOING THIS IN THE NIGHT IN YOUR
DIGITAL MAGIC BODY.
WHEN YOU GET THAT KIND OF MERIT...
...YOU DEVELOP THE STABILITY OF MIND AND HAVE THAT LEVEL OF ART AND
CREATIVITY TO BE ENGAGED WITH THE WHOLE WORLD SYSTEM.
THEN YOU BECOME A BUDDHA!!
A BUDDHA CAN MANIFEST ALL KINDS OF INCARNATE FORMS AND SEEMINGLY
INDIVIDUATED FORMS, TO BECOME A DISCREET MANIFESTATION THAT OTHER
BEINGS CAN PERCEIVE. THEY EMANATE AN INDIVIDUATED FORM THAT ANOTHER
PERSON CAN THEN RELATE TO IN ORDER TO GET THAT PERSON TO REALIZE THEIR
OWN TRUE NATURE.
BUDDHA WILL BE A PARROT IF THAT'S WHAT IS NEEDED.
IF SOMEONE IS SO FRIGHTENED OF THE WORLD THAT ALL THEY CAN DO IS PET A
DOG, THEN THE BUDDHA WILL BE A DOG, AND JUST GO AND GET PETTED. THEY
WON'T EVEN SAY THE DHARMA OR ANYTHING.
AND TO BE A REAL GURU YOU HAVE TO BE CLAIRVOYANT, BUT NOT FOR YOUR OWN
SAKE.
LET'S SAY THE GURU WAS TEACHING SOMEONE AND AT THE SAME TIME THEY WERE
AWARE OF EVERY WAY THAT PERSON WAS PERCEIVING THEM...
...A REAL GURU WOULD BE AWARE OF EVERY THOUGHT IN THAT PERSON'S
MIND....
...AND OF HOW THAT PERSON WAS INTERPRETING EVERYTHING THEY WERE
SAYING...
IF YOU WANT TO BE A TRUE TEACHER YOU HAVE TO DEVELOP THOSE ABILITIES.
SO ENLIGHTENMENT IS WHERE YOU CONSCIOUSLY INHABIT WHATEVER LEVEL OF
BEING YOU WANT BECAUSE YOU'RE NO LONGER A PRISONER OF ANY PARTICULAR
BODY.
YOU CAN FORM BODIES OUT OF AIR, OUT OF MOLECULES, OUT OF COSMIC RAYS,
AND YOU'RE TOTALLY INTERFUSED WITH EVERY BEING---
--TO AN INFINITE EXTENT! YOUR BODY IS LIKE A BACKGROUND RADIATION, NOT
PERCEIVABLE BY OTHER BEINGS, YET IT'S INTERFUSED IN THE CELLS AND BEING
OF OTHER BEINGS.
I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT ETERNITY OR IMMORTAL LIFE IN SOME NICE SENSE,
LIKE UP ON GO'D SHELF, DANCING IN THE CHOIR WITH BEATRICE, LIVING IN
THE BRAHMA REALM JUST LOUNGING AROUND IN ENERGY FIELDS, I MEAN BEING
EMBEDDED FOREVER IN THE NITTY-GRITTY OF LIFE WITH EVERY OTHER BEING.
ACTUALLY, IF THE LUNATICS HAD ALL-OUT NUCLEAR WAR TODAY...
...BUDDHA COULD PRODUCE ANOTHER PLANET IMMEDIATELY IN A NEIGHBORING
GALAXY AND FUNNEL EVERY SOUL THAT WAS DESTROYED!
SO THE WHOLE WORLD BECOMES AN EXPRESSION OF THE BUDDHA'S WISH TO TEACH
BEINGS, AND THERE ARE ENDLESS BEINGS, SO THE BUDDHA WOULD BE A WHOLE
CLOUD OF THINGS...A BUDDHAVERSE!!
AND THE BUDDHA WOULD BE ACTUALLY UN-LOCATABLE. TOTALLY UN-LOCATABLE,
AND TOTALLY PRESENT AT ALL TIMES WITH ALL OF US COMPLETELY RIGHT HERE
AND NOW, FOREVER ENGAGED.
THIS IS WHAT THEY SAY. IT'S A LOT OF FUN TO THINK ABOUT ACTUALLY. BUT I
KNOW IT'S A LITTLE INCREDIBLE. IT'S SUPER SCI-FI!
Go to "Fantastic Buddhaverse of Robert Thurman""
Geir
"INNER REVOLUTION -- ROBERT THURMAN GOES BACK TO THE FUTURE
by Tara Carreon
Have you read Robert Thurman’s new book, Inner Revolution – Life,
Liberty and the Pursuit of Real Happiness? From the subtitle, you'd
expect to find a blend of Jeffersonian democracy and Buddhist
psychological independence. Sort of the best of the West, and the best
of the East. Good government from the West, healthy spirit from the
East. The subtitle, taken directly from the United States Declaration
of Independence, borrows a solemn ring of credibility from that
hallowed political document. Little would you suspect that never once
in the book's 322 pages would the Declaration of Independence be
mentioned. Yet that is the case. Because strangely enough, Thurman has
rejected democracy as the governmental system worthy to sustain human
happiness, reserving that signal honor for theocracy.
So what is this "revolution" of which Thurman speaks? It is an event
that never occurred, called Buddha's Cool Revolution. This cool
revolution, once imagined by Thurman, echoes throughout history. The
original "shot heard round the world" was not fired from a cannon to
announce the American Revolution, but rather was Buddha's realization
of enlightenment some 2,500 years earlier. And while you may have
thought that Michelangelo was the fire behind the Renaissance, you'll
be pleased to learn that the true stimulus was the golden reign of
dharma in Tibet under Je Tsong Khapa, a time so transcendent that the
rest of the world experienced a sympathetic cultural flowering. These
flights are not the excesses of Thurman's writing, but its basic
substance.
Rather than a cogent discussion of what Buddhism can add to the
development of fair government, this book is a notebook filled with
Thurman's piecemeal solutions for diverse social ills. Displaying no
consistent political philosophy, Thurman encourages us, among other
prescriptions, to provide generous government benefits to the Buddhist
clergy, in exchange for which society will basically receive good
vibes. This type of social calculus all works out in a place Thurman
calls the "Buddhaverse."
Thurman’s Buddhaverse, a contraction of Buddha and Universe, is a
familiar place in the world of political philosophy. As far as I can
tell, it fits the definition of a Utopia. In Merriam-Webster, utopia is
defined as “1: an imaginary and indefinitely remote place, 2: a place
of ideal perfection especially in laws, government, and social
conditions, 3: an impractical scheme for social improvement.” Thurman’s
Buddhaverse seems to qualify on all three counts. Like Thurman's
Buddhaverse, too, the term "utopia" was invented -- Sir Thomas More
joined the Greek words for “no” and “place,” (“ou” and “topos”) to
create the contraction “no-place.” Further, both Thurman and More
theorize morally coherent worlds that are intended to be "perfect." But
More's Utopia is this in some sense tongue-in-cheek, while Thurman's
Buddhaverse is dead serious.
Because Inner Revolution is earnest political philosophy, Thurman tries
hard to make his Buddhaverse sound practical and achievable. Inner
Revolution thus invokes the language of commerce, describing Tibet’s
monasteries as “enlightenment factories” that churned out armies of
wise men, and projects the image of powerful take-charge Buddhas who
“overpower obstacles” on their way to a better tomorrow for all beings.
Buddha is a “cool-war general” who “sent out an army of monks and nuns
to infiltrate all countries.” Thurman's Buddha is the pivot of history,
whose magical abilities can be invoked to conquer any practical
objection. Casting aside any suggestion that the Buddha might've been
made of ordinary human clay, Thurman's Buddha has more outlandish
characteristics than Paul Bunyan. According to Thurman, Buddha arose
from the boundary between infinity and form to take reincarnation
through magical apparition in the brilliant Tushita heaven. He took
rebirth as a male in the royal family of the Indian Shakya nation on
the planet earth in 563 BCE, in order to make an earthshaking
demonstration of the vanity of mundane ways by abandoning his kingdom,
wife, and child.
Arriving in our earthly realm with the accumulated force of aeons of
spiritual striving, the Buddha’s enlightenment drove a spiritual shock
wave around the world that caused Zoroaster to revolutionize the
Iranian religion, Deutero-Isaiah to codify the five books of Moses,
Socrates to teach young boys, Confucius to write the I Ching, Lao Tzu
to refute Confucius, and India to seethe with creativity. This "cool
revolution" gradually took over all existing Asian governments.
If Thurman's Buddha is a spiritual general, his monks are soldiers in a
war to liberate themselves from the obligation of working for a living.
Buddha forced the issue by forbidding his monks from performing any
service to society except for begging and sharing insights. The kings
of Buddha's time, Thurman says, were wisely persuaded to accept the
intrusion of a “vast, materially purposeless institution” in their
country. Buddha thus used India's “economic surplus” to integrate monks
into society. This was the beginning of what Thurman calls "an
enlightenment movement."
The newly-empowered monks flexed their muscle during the reign of King
Ashoka, who "heated up the cool revolution” in 262 BCE, imposing edicts
to compel observance of Buddhist rules. Completely inverting the
meaning of the term "revolution," Thurman calls Ashoka's edicts a
"top-down spiritual revolution." Such torturing of language allows
Thurman to argue that, because Ashoka built monuments, made
enlightenment a prominent ideal, and promoted vegetarianism, he was a
revolutionary. The one does not follow from the other. Ashoka was a
king, who enjoyed the kingly prerogative of oppressing his subjects
with his enthusiasms; this is far from a revolutionary notion. Prior
historical authors labeled Ashoka an opportunist who sought alliances
with the Buddhist clergy for secular purposes, but Thurman assures the
reader that Ashoka created a glorious civilization based on the
transcendent value of the individual, and "universal democracy."
History does not support these claims. Aside from "cool" rhetoric,
Thurman's enthusiasm for Ashoka's governmental style has little to
recommend it.
In Thurman's history of Buddhism, we pass from Ashoka’s reign to 100
A.D. when “urgent adepts … mad with compassion and excruciatingly aware
of the priceless opportunity of human life” demanded more from the
Dharma – a quicker, more effective path. Thurman thus imagines a new
phase in his invented social chronology of Buddhism. Having established
the monastic class of non-workers to till the fields of spiritual
insight, the enlightenment movement demanded “spiritual technology” to
solve production problems that slowed the process of manufacturing
Buddhas. The Buddha responded to the demand by releasing new methods,
thus illustrating that essential spiritual principle -- the squeaky
wheel gets the grease.
Not surprisingly, this spiritual technology is in the form of magical
ritual. The tantric siddhas received initiation from Buddha, who
annointed them with healing elixirs of enlightened imagination,
"propelling them out of the gross world of the senses and into a
dreamlike, magical, extremely subtle realm where aeons are moments and
universes are contained in atoms." Buddha also transmitted
visualizations of a "sacred architectural plan" that provides the
secret key to a mandalic reality so secure that adepts "perceive death
as a luminous foundation rather than a lurking doom." With these new
powers in their arsenal, Tibetan Buddhists were able to accelerate the
process of liberating beings to a rate previously unheard of.
In all fairness to Thurman, this is the official Tibetan explanation
for why their version of Buddhism is best -- because it is packed with
Vitamin "M" for Magic and Mystery. Thurman simply retells the
one-size-fits-all philosophy of his monastic preceptors, and making use
of the freedom of expression allowed by monastic tradition, coins some
new metaphors of his own. Thus does a traditional scholar add to the
fund of spiritual knowledge -- with metaphor! And what metaphors!
Breaking out his thesaurus of medical analogies, Thurman says the
Buddha developed “spiritual genetic engineering” to create “an immune
system of the psyche for swiftly conquering the demons of the
unconscious.” Revealing further medical discoveries, Thurman declares
the existence of “a spiritual gene of universal compassion that
determines one's further evolution and marks the biological continuum,
making everyone a leader in the great effort toward salvation of all.”
This could win Bob the Nobel, but where is the peer-review research,
you want to know? Well that is difficult to produce, because Buddha
taught these genomic teachings “to gods and extraterrestial
bodhisattvas and leading students.”
In reliance on these technologies, unheard of since the days of Lobsang
Rampa, Tibet hosted a spiritual industrial revolution that harnessed
the Buddha's high tech wisdom in the ultimate laboratory of the
enlightenment movement. Equipped with lamas capable of seeing through
matter and discovering the nuclear energy of the mind, Tibet became the
secret dynamo of spiritual history, turning the world toward
Enlightenment.
Direct application of lessons drawn from Tibet's political history is a
little tricky, however, because Tibet's history is a little different
from our own. It includes magical events. For example, Thurman tells
the tale of Padmasambhava's mighty struggle with the "ego of the
national deity of Tibet" that Thurman likens to the epic battle of
“Godzilla vs. Mothra, with cinematic special effects.” Appearing as a
giant eagle, Padma swallowed Tibet's “potent father deity” that had
appeared as a ferocious dragon. Just as things were about to wrap up,
Padma’s partner in the enlightenment project, King Trisong Deutsen,
burst in on the epic battle while the dragon's tail still thrashed from
Padma’s mouth. Trisong Deutsen's intrusion ruined the exorcism.
Furious, Padma predicted that now the deities of Tibet couldn't be
relied upon to support the doctrine and a terrible price would have to
be paid. While interesting, this Tibetan political anecdote is not
exactly comparable to the Cuban missile crisis, and Thurman's efforts
to give current significance to this ancient tale provide an example of
how unproductive this process can be.
Then again, some might wish to adopt the method whereby Tibet trimmed
its military budget by entrusting defense preparations to ancient
mystical rites performed long ago by mythical beings. Thanks to
Padmasambhava, many generations of Tibetans grew up inhabiting a “safe
zone for Enlightenment,” generated by Padma’s installation of “a high
altitude mandala of radiant spiritual energy that transformed the
bloodthirsty savage deities of Tibet into servants of dharma.” Padma
still lives in a hidden paradise somewhere in the jungles of Africa.
Presumably, the lama/generals left in charge of the supernatural shield
were unable to contact Padma when the Chinese invaded. Alas, another
lesson to remember -- even the best technology is only as good as its
tech support.
On the other hand, since the Vajra Strategic Defense Initiative did
last for centuries, and kept people feeling secure, it might be deemed
a good deal. After all, safe within that magic tent of invincibility,
Tibet intensified its “inner industrial revolution” by developing
“industrial strength” monasteries where individuals could transform
their world into a Buddhaverse. The entire people of Tibet felt
protected while engaged in a sustained attempt to create a society that
provided everything individuals needed to achieve inner enlightenment
revolution.
And what were Tibet's guiding political principles? What can we draw
from their experience to guide our own search for government that will
foster human enlightenment? Well, it certainly wasn't anything
democratic. The Tibetan lamas created a "buddhocratic political system
administered by enlightened heirarchs" born out of the “reincarnation
institution.” In other words, the monks ruled the country through the
tulku system, whereby old monks picked new monks from among the
children of the realm, who in turn became old monks who picked new
monks, etc., ad infinitum.
For Thurman, this is perfect! What could be better than appointing
leaders vested with both spiritual and temporal power to make all
decisions? This is the apex of both good government and true religion.
Extending the logic, Thurman cannot help but ordain that a fully
functioning Buddhaverse must be ruled by an enlightened tulku. Thurman
pinpoints 1642 as the date when Tibet achieved this goal, when a Mongol
warlord designated the Fifth Dalai Lama as a fit object of supreme
reverence, and compelled his vassals to make offerings to the new
theocrat. Thurman reinterprets this act of military compulsion as a
showing of popular support for the Fifth Dalai Lama; however, this
belief that tyrants express the will of the people seems, by this
point, endemic to Thurman's thinking.
While the ascendancy of a god-being completes the logic of Thurman's
Buddhaverse, it seems to have done little for Tibet. The subsequent
histories of the Dalai Lamas appear to be a mix of monastic intrigue
and foreign manipulation, concluding with the 13th Dalai Lama's
frustration with his ministers and effective suicide ("conscious
decision to die early"). Thus, if Tibet was Thurman's model
Buddhaverse, it seems to have failed during testing.
More than the reign of the Dalai Lamas, Thurman plays up the cultural
era sponsored by Tsong Khapa, the Gelugpa saint that Thurman declares
was "completely enlightened" and developed “a curriculum that anyone
could follow to reach enlightenment.” Tsong Khapa's enlightenment was a
planetary phenomenon, a “spiritual pulsar” emitting enlightenment waves
that likely caused the Western renaissance as a distant byproduct.
During Tsong Khapa's heyday, everyone perceived Buddhas in the sky
above, day after day, over entire regions and provinces. One-sixth of
the Six Million Tibetans entered the huge monastic cities springing up
around the country. The Tibetans felt they lived in a specially blessed
and chosen land.
The greatest problem with turning Tibet into a Lost Buddhaverse is the
fact that it likely never was one. In our longing to imagine a Utopian
realm of perfection, writers have often penned hymns to a removed,
protected realm, guarded by benevolent mystic powers, where the
fortunate are able to learn timeless truths in peace. By choosing the
language of statecraft, commerce and industry, Thurman cloaks his
endeavor with a modern, can-do appearance. But the substance of his
philosophy owes more to the Lobsang Rampa school of Tibetology than he
would like to admit. Like Rampa's, Thurman's lamas are thorough
magicians, controllers of the elements, time, and the minds of men. The
question, with regard to such lamas, is not whether they can, but
whether they wish, to do magic.
While such adulatory rambles once satisfied the need for any
information about the lofty Tibetans, those times are gone, and
Thurman's book a relic of them. If he has any coherent political
thesis, it is that government should unite church and state in the
single embrace of Vajrayana Buddhism, with monks and nuns charged with
all-purpose duties of social betterment. To seriously suggest that a
welfare system run by pious bureacrats is the next stage in government
is mere naivete. And while the book might be a useful source of
politically correct quotes for politicians looking to spiritualize the
practice of statecraft, most would still get more from the opening
lines of the Declaration of Independence from which Thurman lifted his
subtitle:
"We hold these Truths to be self-evident, that all Men are created
equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain inalienable
Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness
-- That to secure these Rights, Governments are instituted among Men,
deriving their just Powers from the Consent of the Governed...."
Unlike the Constitutional framers, Thurman places his faith in the
intuitions and inspirations of the elite, the annointed, and the
enlightened. He admires Ashoka, who compelled allegiance to an ideal
creed, and the Mongol lord who made the Fifth Dalai Lama the ruler of
Tibet. Thurman places no faith in the value of government based on the
"consent of the governed," and thus his talk of democratic Buddhism is
completely hollow. Inner Revolution provides only a nostalgic
prescription to return to faith in special people and magical
doctrines, and is marked by yearnings for supernatural solutions to
concrete problems. The book fails to provide the up-to-date blending of
spirit and politics promised by its title, and instead succeeds best as
another pep rally to preserve the fading cultural heritage of Tibet."
Geir
rock-bottom with the abusive things being done and said in it's name.
The denouncing of all the trash sh thus has to be just as trashy as it.
That's why you're now seeing the installments picked up to over two a
day now so that the whole site by the ABOL-Carreons can find place on
this ng by the end of the month. All the trash has to go out.
The fake gurus of Tibetan Buddhism get it whacked in this and the real
gurus go unscathed because they know why they beat or punish students.
They know why and what for they use the discipline that is used by
military in boot-camp which forges peoples' strengths of character -
and which abuse fake gurus use for misguided purposes.
Tara and Charles will destroy all that's fake and misguided in Tibetan
Buddhism and will restitute it's authenticity.
"A FLAMING FISTFUL OF REACTIONARY WISDOM
by Charles and Tara Carreon
Are you a traditional Buddhist? Does it just chap your hide when you
hear someone accusing traditional Eastern Buddhism of an authoritarian
agenda? A little slow on the trigger with snappy comebacks? This
short essay will change all that forever. Never again be left
undefended when unexpectedly assailed by a sharp-witted
anti-authoritarian. You too can stand tall, knowing that you are
packing a Doctrinal Defender argument, neatly classed for swift
deployment. These tried and true zingers will set your opponent on his
or her ear, contemplating the incontrovertible core of your argument.
Classed into nine basic categories, this flaming fistful of reactionary
wisdom will be your dogmatic sidearm.
"It's Bigger Than All That"
This general purpose put down is best delivered with a long look down
the snoot. As the words drop, exude pity for this miserable insect who
has no idea how blooming wonderful this whole damn spiritual circus is.
Hard to beat, this will work equally well as a brutal rebuff to a
newbie or a deft snub against seasoned adversaries. At a loss for
words when caught consorting with authoritarian henchmen? Just drop
into this self protective crouch -- and as you come out of it,
demonstrate genuine surprise that your adversary just doesn't
understand how blooming wonderful this whole damn spiritual circus is.
The following list of related doctrinal arguments can be deployed
against hard cases. Just say them naturally, with that tone of
pomposity that befits your station as an elder student, even if you're
still trying to get your mala to get that worn look.
This is the ignorant thinking of the five skandhas.
Maybe you're not ready for the "radical" path of enlightenment.
All of our experiences are equally illusory.
We voluntarily choose to lose our freedom in order to gain a higher
freedom.
You are mixing political ways of organizing society with the process of
transmitting fundamental understandings of truth, which is a totally
different matter.
Abusive authority is part of the tradition: Naropa/Tilopa. Zen
practitioners getting hit with a stick, or slapped with a shoe over the
head.
If we have faith in the Buddha, all our experiences will be purified.
The teacher is not here to facilitate a consensus.
Freedom is impotent to address important spiritual issues.
Humiliating yourself is part of getting rid of your ego.
We have to suspend our judgment when it comes to having faith in the
doctrine.
We can't apply rational criteria to the choice of a guru.
Empowerment is necessary to confer the divine state and give permission
to practice.
Temper tantrums and whims of the guru are manifestations of divine
play.
Vain gossip causes harm to others.
Bliss will only prevail when you develop peace and love.
Buddhism is about an invisible reality, not a materialistic reality.
Let's "move beyond" the simple black-white issues presented here to
something more positive.
Enslavement to Buddhist authority, or any other authority, is the least
of my concerns because for the most part I am a total slave of my mind.
Just when I think I have made progress, and liberation is close at
hand, I discover I have built a bigger and more beautiful jail.
"It Works, That's Why"
This category is overused because Americans are so practical. We just
want to get the job done, okay, get enlightened, get home in time for
supper. It's a button-down, business-like category that will make you
look like a schoolmarm if you use it too often. So be careful, at the
risk of becoming terminally uncool.
Don't give scope for ill feelings and worthless talk.
Many important persons are Buddhists.
Rebels always lose. Fighting authority is a naive fantasy. The
authorities rule because they are right.
Erratic or abusive practices are sometimes used by Eastern masters to
stop the rational mind and allow enlightenment to enter.
The guru-disciple relationship is essential.
Some people benefit from being regimented. It is skilful means.
Control is necessary; otherwise we won't grow.
People need "more rules," not less.
Humiliating yourself is part of getting rid of your ego.
It is beneficial to apply various forms of friendly persuasion, peer
pressure, righteous indignation, and shunning, for the benefit of your
dharma brethren.
Use various analogies: the student is a sick patient; the guru the
doctor. The student is clay; the guru is the potter.
Worship isn't for the guru's sake but for the student's.
Devotional practices rely upon community standards and a sense of self
that we need to develop in the United States.
If we regulate ourselves with standards of ethical conduct, we can
derive the greatest benefit from the religious group while minimizing
the risk of exploitation.
We need to develop a genuine understanding of the dharma to address and
alleviate our fears.
The scriptures and the teachers are the prime sources of religious
authority.
It is a waste of time to carry tales about others.
Buddhist organizations sponsor a lot of charity activities.
It does some people a lot of good.
"Shutup!"
This is a very popular category, probably because you don't have to be
very smart to deploy these zingers. Takes you right back to grade
school.
Anti-authoritarian ideas are advanced by negative-minded individuals.
If you doubt the traditional system, it's because you are of poor
character and lack life experience.
Only those who observe silence are good people. Silence fosters purity.
We should observe silence at all times.
Just get over it!
You're mean!
That's the way the system works! Complaining about it is just a waste
of time.
Don't sow discord.
You're going to vajra hell with that kind of attitude.
You just don't understand how it all works.
Don't harbor any undesirable thoughts.
Vain gossip causes harm to others.
Your information is false propaganda, gossip and misleading
information.
Your arguments have no foundation. They are hearsay.
It's traditional.
Your information isn't impartial, because it is subject to your own
biases.
Psychologists say that anything that creates or sustains enmity with
anyone for any reason carries the seeds of its own destruction and is
stalked by what Jung calls "The Shadow" which MUST turn itself upon
those who invoke its energy. It also throws those who act out in this
way entirely into delusion, a delusion made worse when a group rallies
around LA CAUSA.. That's the rules as the psychologists explain them,
over and over again.
"This is Much Better Than Anything We Have in the West "
This category capitalizes on the inherent sense of inferiority that
Americans feel when faced with saintly-seeming Easterners in colored
robes. We didn't grow up with it, and we don't know how it works, so
we'll believe anything. Your basic Texas oil scheme in the spiritual
patch. If you've got the stomach for it, grab a piece and hang on,
because this stuff will sell!
A guru goes beyond the boundary of control which many Americans adhere
to.
We are ethnocentric and have a fear of weakening our cultural
foundations.
Working with a guru can be one of the most sublime experiences of one's
life.
Ignorance is on the rise with the progress of science.
All the trials and tribulations faced in this world are due to the
so-called developments in science and technology.
Americans are not comfortable with spiritual explorations into unknown
and irrational realms.
Bliss will only prevail when you develop peace and love.
Buddhism is beyond democracy.
The dysfunction in our society creates the opportunity for Buddhist
cult abuse.
The exclusively rational, intellectual approach to life has made
Westerners feel alienated.
Western thought is a dangerous obstacle to spiritual knowledge. We
must reject scientific inquiry to be rid of duality and domination.
The anti-cult movements have presented a distorted view of Eastern
spiritual religions which brings to the fore Americans' deepest fears
and imaginings: mind control, total negation of reality, and allegiance
to a human being rather than God.
The Internet is poisoning the village environment, which is the epitome
of peace and love. Don't spoil the village atmosphere by imitating the
city culture.
"One Bad Apple"
Everybody remembers this song by Michael Jackson and the Jackson Five,
"One bad apple don't spoil the whole bunch, girl." You may recall that
our grandparents had a different take, believing that indeed one bad
apple would ruin the entire lot, and I dare say they had more
experience with barrels of apples than all five of the Jacksons. Be
that as it may, the argument has numerous adherents, as the following
quotes will show.
My group is not like that.
We have to look at these things on a case by case basis.
Maybe you just came to it with a bad attitude.
Those stories are so old.
That was settled and probably was the result of some plaintiff lawyer's
lying.
Hell hath no fury ...
While scandals do come from some Buddhist groups, many others provide a
necessary, wonderful service.
People make mistakes.
Not everyone had your [bad] experience.
Your experience is unique.
"Assumption of Risk"
This is a legal term for "you had it coming." As in, "you had it coming
breaking your neck flying down that hill on that snowboard like that."
As in, "well, when you dress like that, what did you expect, he may be
a priest but he's only a man!" The assumption of risk theory makes your
average church yard look more dangerous than a toxic dumpsite, since
you went there with your faith in your hands, you idiot, just asking to
be taken for a ride. The problem with the assumption of risk defense is
its excessive candor, but aside from that drawback, is a very useful
first strike strategy.
You were offered the chance to investigate and inquire. You had a
chance to stay or leave.
The teacher provides the necessary philosophical and practical
guidance, but the student is still responsible for his or her own
practice and development.
Let the buyer beware.
We have to take personal responsibility for whatever happens to us.
Garbage in, garbage out.
If you had a real problem you'd take it to court.
"Gurus are Special People"
This category is very large, and seems to comprise quite a bit of the
heavy timber in this structure. These are tautologies at their best,
solid to the core, because of their unitized construction. You can rely
on these phrases, because they depend upon nothing.
The Buddhist leaders are representatives of the Buddha.
The student must have faith in the guru no matter what action the guru
takes.
Any problem is our own fault, not the guru's.
The greater the devotion, the more blessings one receives.
The guru is a form of Buddha's presence, presenting the divine in a
manner people can relate to.
The guru-disciple relationship offers the possibility of tremendous
spiritual growth, healing, and a powerful change in outlook.
We can't apply rational criteria to the choice of a guru.
Veneration is necessary, because a guru embodies divine power, and is
capable of bestowing grace.
A guru is the only person who can dispel darkness with his vast
knowledge.
The guru is a source of revelation, interpreting and influencing the
tradition's development.
True knowledge can only be obtained through a teacher.
The guru is a spiritual guide leading the disciple to Absolute Reality,
the nature of Being.
The relationship between a guru and his students is heart to heart and
is prompted by selfless love.
Gurus are above the ethical laws that apply to everyone else.
"We'll Side With the Majority After All"
We wanted to call this "consensus redux," to encapsulate the notion
that, however much a movement rejects consensus decision-making, when
it lacks the power of the majority, once it can invoke the authority of
widespread acceptance, it will immediately do so.
If the system was bad, why has it survived all of these years? A lot
of people couldn't be wrong.
Well, at least we can get along with others.
Nobody likes you.
"Jar Jar Speaks"
Sometimes things are put forward in a manner so beeble-bumbled that
they have to be dedicated to the God of inarticulateness, which for us
is Jar Jar Binks. Here you go.
Authoritarianism/Anti-Authoritarianism is part of the "first tier
thinking" which occurs before the revolutionary shift in consciousness
where "being levels" emerge.
That pretty much wraps it up. If you're still here with us, thank you.
We will try to think up some rebuttals to these rebuttals, but just
right now we're feeling a powerful urge to regret our apostasy and
engage in some full-scale repentance and ice-cream eating.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Advanced Teachings on Repelling the Rebels -- The Ear-Whispered
Teachings of The Warriors of Traditionalist Dogma. These hand grenades
of authoritarian Buddhism are entrusted to those with the courage to
bandy doctrines boldly. Leave them stunned with these brain-stoppers.
A PERSON OF KNOWN ORIGINS CAN NEVER BE AN AUTHORITY
Originally pointed out by Jesus of Nazareth, who responded to local
criticisms by observing that "a prophet hath no honor in his own
country," this wry observation has been hammered into a rule of
universal application. As a result, spiritual adulation can be lavished
upon any ham-brained, be-robed individual of Mongolian extraction with
enough moxie to sit on a throne while acting (pick one or more:
profound, benign, whimsical, attentive, subtly threatening, or
humorously avaricious). While they eventually may lose stature when
they lurch drunkenly at a pair of mammaries attached to some hapless
devotee (Sogyal), or engage in too many tall tales and blatant
solicitations for cash (Kusum Lingpa), still they will be treated as
authorities, because of the corollary rule, which is:
REGARDLESS OF OTHER CHARACTERISTICS, YOU CONTINUE TO BE AN AUTHORITY SO
LONG AS YOU ARE SO RECOGNIZED BY AN AUTHORITY
This rule means that, until the Pope says to kick the guy out, the
pervert priest can still say Mass and continue to defile the bodies and
spirits of the young. Until actually ousted and defrocked, any
authority can continue to exploit their position.
This rule is so powerful that we can even make gold out of clay --
witness the tulkufication of Catherine Burroughs and Steven Seagal, and
the trail of self-stuck idiots that Kusum Lingpa has left in his train
by haphazardly recognizing anyone who gives him the right ass-kissy
vibe as the reincarnation of some heretofore unknown Tibetan saint. And
despite all of Burroughs' Leona-Helmsley-style antics and the very
absurdity of Seagal's posturing as a spiritual guide, until their
"recognition" is withdrawn by Pednor Rinpoche, they will continue to
collect accolades from the faithfools.
Examining the implications of these two rules, we see a third:
WESTERN PEOPLE WHO DON'T BUY AUTHORITARIAN HEIRARCHY CAN NEVER SAY
ANYTHING VALID
First, since they are western, they can't self-authorize,
So they need to be recognized by an authority,
But since they reject authorities, they will never obtain such a
recognition,
Therefore, nothing they say will ever have any validity to the true
faithfool,
Because faithfools only evaluate ideas based on the identity of the
speaker, and never on their merits.
Having gone through this analysis with respect to any speaker, a true
faithfool can safely stop his ears once it is clear the speaker has no
authority.
However, there is one last rule every good faithfool should keep in
mind, to avoid dissing your own kind:
ANY STATEMENT BY A PERSON WHO PROFESSES FAITH IN AUTHORITY IS
PRESUMPTIVELY VALID
Aha, you were waiting for this one, weren't you? This is why it is
worth having a "Free Tibet" bumper sticker, or otherwise announcing
your alliance with the authorities. To gain the benefit of the rule,
simply append to any damn thing you say, the following: "I speak not
from my own knowledge, but simply in repetition of what the gurus have
declared -- it's all in the teachings -- I have nothing to add that
hasn't been said before."
WARNING: THIS LINE OF ARGUMENT HAS BEEN PROVIDED AS A SERVICE TO THOSE
PERSONS DEDICATED TO LIVING INSIDE A SAFE, AUTHORIZED BELIEF SYSTEM, SO
THAT THEY WILL NOT BE TEMPTED TO OPEN THEIR MINDS AND INHALE A NEW
THOUGHT THAT COULD BE POISONOUS TO THEIR ENTIRE WORLD VIEW AND RESULT
IN THE WASTE OF MANY HOURS OF DEVOTION, MEDITATION AND SELF-ABASEMENT.
BY RUNNING THROUGH THE ANALYSIS IN ADVANCE, YOU WILL NOT BE CAUGHT
UNPREPARED. THE WORKINGS OF THE MACHINERY HAVE BEEN REVEALED ONLY
BECAUSE WE KNOW THAT THE FAITHFOOL WILL NOT BE SHAKEN BY ANY OF THE
HOKEY SARCASM THAT FILLS THE INTERSTICES OF THE ARGUMENT, AND SO THAT
THE DEVOTED FAITHFOOL CAN BE READY FOR THE SORRY-ASS ATTACKS THAT WILL
COME FROM THOSE STUPID ANTI-AUTHORITARIANS. "
Geir
she took on all part and parcel of rip-offs and fakes in Tibetan
Buddhism; thankfully, because the abuse had been going on for too long,
all those decades of Tibetan Buddhism in the West that had been without
authentic masters to control things; and letting intruders in Tiebtan
Buddhism perpetrate offences to the religion; and doing so in it's
name, dragging it through the worst mud ever.
Npw on to heavy blanket-bombing techniques here :
"WORDS FOR THE WEST
by Thinley Norbu "Rinpoche"
Thinley Norbu Rinpoche on Nihilism, Spiritual Surrender, and the
Importance of Lineage and the Guru
Thinley Norbu Rinpoche is a preeminent teacher of the Nyingma lineage
of Tibetan Buddhism. His books include The Small Golden Key, Magic
Dance (which Shambhala is reissuing this fall), and White Sail,
published by Shambhala in 1992. He presently spends part of each year
in the United States and Nepal. This material evolved from an interview
conducted by Tricycle with Thinley Norbu Rinpoche in the Fall of 1995.
The term nihilism figures prominently in your book White Sail. What do
you mean by it?
According to my understanding, nihilism means not believing in any
spiritual point of view. Nihilists only believe in what they can see,
what they can hear, and what they can think, or the substantial reality
of whatever temporarily exists in front of them. For example, they
believe only in this life and not in previous lives or future lives,
because they don't believe in continuous mind, although it is
inevitable that mind is continuous. Nihilists don't accept Buddhist
beliefs such as the interdependence of reality, or that relative truth,
whose essence is delusion, only exists according to beings' reality
habits. When something happens through previous karma, if nihilists
cannot find any explanation to prove why it has happened, they think it
is just coincidence.
>From a Buddhist point of view, nihilism is just a habit of mind. Even
though nihilists have the potential of Buddha-nature, from their lack
of belief they have no capacity or method to change their fragmented
phenomena toward the continuity of a sublime level. Even though they
are born with a precious human body, they have the great self-deception
of keeping a nihilist outlook. Therefore they don't consider karmic
consequences and rely instead on opportunistic habit, taking advantage
of circumstances for momentary benefit instead of creating good karma
that leads temporarily to long-term positive energy and ultimately to
the attainment of fully enlightened Buddhahood.
Padmasambhava (eighth century C.E.): historical founder of Tibetan
Buddhism and of the Nyingma School; also known as Guru Rinpoche.
Thangka, late sixteenth to first half of the seventeenth century.
Gouache on cotton
Is this what you call materialist-mind? The mind that just trusts in
one's own limited senses?
Yes. But as long as beings have dualistic mind, it is necessary to
believe in cause and effect in order to create positive causes and
effects. So temporarily, as long as karma exists-whether it is bad
karma or good karma-it exists within the material realm, and therefore
beings must rely on the material. But this is different from the
nihilist idea of materialism, which is to reject spiritual ideas such
as Buddha-nature, the continuity of the mind beyond the life of the
body, and karma, and just to believe in what can be known by one's own
limited senses. Nihilists only believe in material answers, and not in
immaterial ideas from which positive material and immaterial spiritual
qualities can be created.
WE HAVE TO BELIEVE in the Buddha, and that each kind of sentient being,
even an animal, has mind. Even though mind is not touchable, even
though you cannot see mind, even though you cannot show what it is, it
is obvious that if there were no mind, there could be no phenomena even
in this life.
What is the role of the guru in the process of transformation from
nihilism to the recognition of spiritual virtue?
The guru introduces us to our own Buddha-nature. Believing with faith
and devotion in one's own guru or sublime teacher can introduce our own
mind to its own Buddha-nature. Then that seed can blossom through
prayers and practice.
Prayer to what or to whom?
To the Triple Gems, or to one's own guide to enlightenment who is the
representative of the Triple Gems, in order for one's own Buddha nature
to open. You have to have objective faith in order for subjective
Buddha-nature to be uncovered. Even though a root circumstance such as
a seed exists, in order for its potential to become enlivened, it is
necessary to depend on the contributing circumstances of fertilizer,
warmth, water, and light. By depending on positive contributing
circumstances such as listening to the Buddha's teachings and praying
to the Triple Gems, the root circumstance of Buddha-nature is revealed.
Because mind is continuous, it is better to choose good habits that
create positive contributing circumstances rather than to choose bad
habits. That's what practicing means.
Can you give up the belief in your own limited mind without the help of
the guru?
If dualistic mind exists, how can it be given up? Unless one practices
and meditates with a guide to enlightenment in a proper way, there is
no method to give it up. How can one give up one's limited mind by
oneself? Giving up dualistic mind is not like throwing away garbage, or
as easy as just saying it from your lips. Even if you say it from your
lips, since it is there, your grasping mind is not going to give it up.
Since dualistic mind has existed for countless lives, beings obviously
have not had any power to give it up. That is why grasping mind exists,
which continuously causes suffering. If the guru is given up as a
positive object, one cannot be liberated because one creates countless
negative phenomena, which one then has no way to change toward positive
phenomena. Logically, without being introduced to one's Buddha-nature
by sublime teachers and depending on their guidance, Buddha nature
cannot blossom.
Many Westerners ask why it is necessary to depend on a guide to
enlightenment and to accumulate merit, since one's own mind already has
Buddha nature. They think that they can recognize their Buddha-nature
themselves and do not need to depend on a guru or teacher, but this is
a misinterpretation. They don't recognize that they are continuously
remaining in ignorance, and that this idea will keep them closed in the
dullness of darkness rather than let them open to light.
Is this resistance to surrender particular to our modern and scientific
times?
SOME MODERN PEOPLE have this reluctance and resistance. Even though
they don't surrender in a spiritual way, they continuously surrender to
their own wrong points of view, which prevents their enlightenment and
interferes with even this life's positive energy. As everyone knows,
science is not always positive. How many lives were lost from nuclear
weapons, and how much energy was lost that could have gone toward the
development of countries instead of their destruction? It is
unnecessary to believe in developing only in a scientific way. It is
also unnecessary to be against the idea of a spiritual path, because
those who follow a spiritual path and develop spiritual qualities can
help to create peace in the world.
Spiritual surrender is beneficial both materially and immaterially, at
temporary and ultimate levels. There is a very big difference between
the benefit of surrendering only to a reverse point of view and
surrendering to sublime beings. It is a mistake to think, as some
people do, that there is more freedom if they surrender only to a
non-spiritual point of view for their entire lives. This only makes
them more and more bound, because there is no method to reach actual
freedom. If one surrenders at a spiritual level as in ancient times, it
always releases one from being bound.
In the West these days, though they have good intentions, parents' main
advice to children is "you must be strong. You must have self-esteem.
You must not lose your hold on yourself. You must stand on your own
feet. Don't depend on others." Even at a worldly level, people
naturally surrender to others, although they may think of themselves as
self-sufficient. If someone thinks he doesn't depend on others, he is
like a sick person who thinks he doesn't have to go to a doctor because
he can cure himself with poison, or like a poor person who says he
doesn't have to depend on richer people even though he has an empty
wallet. Schoolteachers teach that being strong means not relying on
others and being independent. These are nihilist teachings that create
the habit of being afraid of spiritual surrender to the Buddha or to
the teacher because of being afraid of losing one's self to God, or the
Buddha, or the teacher, or any sublime being-but what self? Modern
people are afraid of losing their own ordinary egos. What else do they
have to lose but that?
WHEN THEY REFER to books and say, "See, we have our own Buddha-nature
so we don't have to depend on anyone else," this is not proof of their
realization. It is nihilist fear. Relying on someone else makes them
think they are losing their identity, which is just their ordinary ego.
But the problem with preserving ordinary ego is that it makes people
feel more and more fear and frustration. Because they don't believe in
anything, they do not have any method to purify this fear and
frustration. That's why it is so dangerous to make the
misinterpretation that nothing needs to be done to recognize
Buddha-nature, since it keeps people in the position of not knowing how
to release themselves from suffering through developing the skillful
means of spiritual methods that encourage its recognition.
Many people in the West now advocate depending on the collective wisdom
of the sangha more, and diminishing the role of the teacher.
Westerners always like to create something new, whether or not it is
beneficial. Doubt and cynicism are deep nihilist habits. Some people
are hastily attracted to this kind of idea from their habit to revolt.
These people have a distorted idea of freedom, just as some people do
who always think the government is suppressing them. They feel more
comfortable being with normal, casual friends, girlfriends or
boyfriends, instead of having to respect and worship a teacher. But
this does not have anything to do with a pure spiritual level,
including the intention to give up the ego in order to attain
enlightenment. Actually, whoever has this resistance habit or
power-struggle habit is forgetting that a girl- friend can revolt
against her boyfriend or a boyfriend can revolt against his girlfriend.
Even members of a sangha who try to depend on their collective non-
wisdom can be uncomfortable with each other directly or indirectly
because of their own habit of negative reactions to others and being
against others. If they react negatively to teachers through reading
and hearing that they should always respect them, it is sure that they
will have collective negativity among themselves over the same issues
of power, ego, and rebellion. Although they turn to a sangha, it does
not mean their negative reactions to others are finished.
As everyone knows from the news, sometimes a girlfriend or wife has
killed her boyfriend or husband, or a boyfriend or husband has killed
his girlfriend or wife. Whoever has the habit of negative reaction,
opposition, paranoia, and fear will not be able to release it by
turning against teachers, even if they talk about the collective wisdom
of the sangha. Because of their self-righteous egos, these people don't
want to respect teachers and gurus. This attitude is endorsed by a
society that has taught them not to respect others above themselves,
but they must know that this is a sign of their fear. Their fear of
losing themselves through respecting and worshiping a teacher means
they don't have a strong spiritual level of awareness.
A traditional Nyingma lineage chart: Guru Rinpoche (center) surrounded
by the Great Bodhisattvas of the Mahayana, his consort Yeshe Tsogyal
(to his right), and the historical lineage holders (below)
Is this an absence of faith?
Westerners prefer compassion to faith. Western compassion sounds very
nice, but actually, it has a negative taste if you check carefully and
deeply. For Westerners, compassion is not authentic because it is
connected to pride. It is from up to down, because it comes from those
who are in some way considered better or higher, and goes toward those
who are in some way considered lower. That is why it is comfortable for
them. It is also because of pride that faith is not possible for them,
since faith is surrendering to what is higher. In actual Buddhist
tradition, faith in Buddha is always connected with compassion for
sentient beings and compassion is always connected to faith, because
where there is actual faith, compassion comes automatically for all
suffering sentient beings who do not have faith in Buddha and are
therefore suffering. Many people want to know about Buddhism, but they
are not interested in faith because they don't want to surrender
anything. Since they think the sangha is like a group of friends so it
is not necessary to respect them, this makes them feel safe. This
conception originally comes from some kind of modern superficial
democratic idea of equal rights, based on a nihilist point of view and
not on wisdom. Spiritual ideas are totally different from worldly
political ideas, but they try to put these worldly political ideas into
spiritual ideas without considering pure dharma. These democratic ideas
are supposed to be kept as worldly political ideas, and not misused as
if they were spiritual. It is fine to believe in democratic ideas, but
why bother Buddhist ideas, including the right to be a teacher and the
right to believe in teachers? Why are these people trying to prevent
belief in teachers? Actually, democracy has the idea of individual
rights, so what is wrong with Buddhists having rights? Religious belief
is a choice made by the individual, and not a decision to be made by
people who call themselves a sangha. These people have no right to
diminish the role of the teacher, and they cannot diminish it, because
the quality of spirituality the teacher embodies is inconceivable and
not like the materializations thought up by those in a nihilist sangha.
Their ideas are actually not democratic ideas, but could be just the
tradition of some weird other realm. If the purpose of politics is to
deal with the needs of people, why are they trying to exclude Buddhism
from what people need?
Actual Buddhist tradition is to benefit beings. These people can't
benefit others because they do not have a pure positive dharma lineage
due to trying to adjust spiritual ideas to accommodate these ideas of
worldly freedom with a nihilist point of view. Although they may try to
make their ideas sound enticing to nonreligious people, to lure them
for the promotion of their own group or to prevent respect for
teachers, this kind of view will cause disgrace for Westerners. The
traditions of Buddhism are based on having faith and reverence, but
this new idea of depending on the collective wisdom of the sangha
encourages the opposite. By lineage, I do not mean a skin lineage that
belongs to a particular race, but a wisdom lineage that is transmitted
from the teacher to the student and from students to their students
over many generations, in order for them to become teachers and to.
teach beings. It is impossible for anyone to have a sublime wisdom
lineage if they cut off their guides to enlightenment through
diminishing the role of the teacher, because teachers are
representatives of the Buddha, to teach. Whatever they seem to be
according to the phenomena of the student, teachers are teaching the
path of enlightenment, and whatever students learn must be learned from
teachers. It is important that people not be confused by the misuse of
Buddhist terms, which are always connected with wisdom. Wisdom is the
opposite of ordinary conception. It is sublime mind. There are many
meanings of sangha, but simply put, it is the mind's intention that
virtue prosper through the two accumulations of merit and wisdom. Merit
is created by virtue, and wisdom flourishes from realization. These two
accumulations come from dharma. Dharma comes from the speech of Buddha.
The representative of the Buddha is the teacher. So to say that the
role of the teacher should be diminished, lessening it and making it
smaller, is appalling. All religions try to increase wisdom blessings,
not diminish them. Without faith and belief in the Triple Gems,
following Buddha's speech, praying to the Buddhas, or listening to
teachings from teachers who are representatives of the Buddha, how can
one realize wisdom? As Buddha Shakyamuni said, "For men who have no
faith, it is impossible to have pure dharma, like planting a burned
seed in a field and expecting a green shoot to come. " With a nihilist
mind and a sangha face, instead of benefiting all beings through
following the teachings of Buddha, these people are harmfully blocking
the path of enlightenment for new generations through their tricky
words. Of course, according to American ideas of freedom, everything is
allowed, including religious freedom, but they can invent something
themselves not connected with Buddhist tradition. Why is it necessary
to borrow the name of the sangha from Buddhism's words?
There have been negative experiences with teachers of all the Buddhist
traditions, which have created doubt and cynicism.
Doubt and cynicism are deep nihilist habits. They are not wonderful
signs. Of course, I have heard stories many times about Westerners who
have turned against and discarded their teachers, even though they have
already taken refuge in them until they attain enlightenment, just as
though they were squeezing out some toothpaste and then were throwing
away the tube. They are foolish to think they have finished using the
teacher and so can recant what they said they believed, because the
spiritual qualities of a wisdom teacher are not like toothpaste and are
not going to finish.
IT IS TRUE THAT there is doubt and cynicism due to negative
experiences, but that does not mean that these negative experiences
come from a teacher or that a teacher is a false teacher. Whoever sees
a wisdom teacher with doubt and cynicism through the distortion of his
own personal negativity is a nihilist and does not have a spiritual
view. According to Buddhist tradition, one must introspect about
whatever one sees in order to purify negative conception and increase
positive phenomena to attain enlightenment. Whatever arises within
one's own mind, one has to look at one's own mind and practice to
diminish one's own negativity rather than trying to diminish the role
of the teacher. That is spiritual. Whatever seems to be caused from
outside of themselves is just a reflection of their own minds. These
Westerners think that all that is negative or positive is only caused
from outside of themselves. They materialize and externalize their
experiences, never understanding the connection between outer and inner
phenomena or interdependent phenomena, looking for explanations only
from objects through extreme nihilist habit instead of from the
subjective experience of their own minds.
That is why there is a problem for Westerners following actual Buddhist
tradition. Because Westerners are often occupied with the habit of
extroversion, they think spiritual qualities are supposed to be shown
obviously and can only appear in particular aspects that fit their
preconceptions. Therefore everything is misjudged through lack of
introspection and meditation, and they do not see the teacher as pure
or dharma as pure due to projections of their own impure habit. This
self- distorted perspective makes it difficult for them to increase
spiritual qualities through the development of pure phenomena that can
connect to actual wisdom.
Some people have suggested that the impulse to create a Western
Buddhism is inspired by a sense that things in the world are falling
apart so quickly that Buddhism in any form is better than none at all.
This is just an excuse. If there is no respect for Buddha or for
teachers, even if people call themselves Buddhists, they are
non-Buddhists. Instead of misusing Buddhism, it would be much simpler
for them to just work on improving the world, the environment, or
society if they want to do something about them. They don't need to
label their own ideas as Western Buddhism or to blame Buddhism. Again,
there is racism.
Racism?
Yes, because Westerners think Buddhism comes from the East, and they do
not want to have to depend on the East for Buddhism. But the idea that
we don't need the East is racist and patronizing. Since these
Westerners are eager to invent a special Western Buddhism, they must
think it is particularly for the benefit of Western sentient beings,
but Buddhism is for all sentient beings.
You're using racism as a kind of cultural imperialism?
The West will not have a pure Buddhist lineage if Westerners do not
respect sublime beings or believe in teachers. Some Westerners who have
not understood Buddhism deeply or have not made a connection with the
profound spiritual energy of the blessings of lineage have rejected it
out of frustration. Then they have said that Buddhism does not deliver,
making this negative point of view sound complimentary to nihilist
people so they can be influenced by it, which creates the problem of
how pure Buddhist teachers can flourish in the West in future
generations.
If the lineage is broken, it is a false sangha, and there is no lineage
that can be transmitted. If Americans create something new called
American Buddhism, without considering other sentient beings, then that
means American Buddhism is not Mahayana Buddhism because it has not
considered all other sentient beings. Also, it is not in the Hinayana
tradition, which is to discipline one's own ego, because it has the
taste of building more self-righteous samsaric ego by emphasizing
oneself and those who are similar to oneself, meaning that there is
something wrong with others. That means there are no pure phenomena
toward others, which means there is not even the whiff of Vajrayana.
HOW CAN THEY try to teach others and teach all beings impartially if
they have already used this name? Actually, I can't understand the idea
of American Buddhism at all. Sometimes it looks like communism,
sometimes like democracy, sometimes like socialism, and sometimes like
nothing, only circling between worldly systems, never cutting from them
but only circling between negative phenomena. If the beings of another
country where there is no Buddhism need to find Buddhism's ideas, and
if those beings think in a naive way that Americans have American
Buddhism and try to study with them, the worst thing will be that they
will have no Buddhist lineage.
You speak of faith and devotion and the trust in the sublime teachers,
but when we read the texts about the sublime teachers, very few of the
teachers appear to match the description of sublime teachers.
I cannot say either they are not or they are sublime teachers, because
I am not a sublime teacher. Another problem is that almost all Western
teachers of Buddhism are either nihilists or eternalists, and not
actual Buddhist lineage holders.
Even if those previous sublime Buddhist teachers are not appearing in
front of you now, because they appeared in the past, you can read and
understand their speech, although you did not see them through the lack
of your good karma. But if those previous sublime teachers appeared in
front of you today, you would see them in the same way as you see the
teachers of these days, which is negatively. Also, you can't say
previous sublime teachers are different from today's teachers. When
previous sublime teachers manifested in the past, are you sure that you
were with them so that you can remember all of their qualities? You
cannot judge a teacher's spiritual intangible qualities by
materializing them, including the qualities of sublime beings from the
past.
If so many teachers in the West are teaching from a nihilist point of
view, and if we are to evolve a pure dharma, as you describe it, should
we continue to treat these nihilist teachers as if they were sublime
beings so that the lineage of devotion and faith are maintained?
If you do this with the right point of view, then those nihilist
teachers are transformed into sublime beings, so there will not be any
nihilist teachers. Sometimes good students treat their own teachers as
if they were sublime, even though their sublime qualities are not
obvious to ordinary objective judgment. This happens when the student
has faith and belief. But the best thing is not to materialize about
teachers and to use one's own insight and introspection to create pure
phenomena. I hope each teacher's students, remembering what they
learned from their own teachers, and keeping their kindness in mind,
have unshakable faith and are not affected by the uncivilized malice of
these people with a reverse point of view. Then when they become
teachers on day, as a consequence of good karma and compassion, they
can have loyalty, nobility, deep devotion and faith, and pure students,
to attain fully enlightened Buddhahood."
(This all on ABOL's links to pages about Tibetan Buddhism - on their
"site map" and can be consulted there by all : go there ! It's a help
to humanity and the way to avoid abusive rip-offs in Tibetan Buddhism
which are all over the map if one isn't wary of it.)
Geir
Buddhism won't get out of this because the more it fights it the more
it gets stuck, eh !
Errr.... !
"TIBETAN BUDDHISM IN THE WEST
by Dzongsar Khyentse "Rinpoche"
October, 2002
SiddharthasIntent.org
A friend of mine from New York recently sent me an email article titled
"Is Tibetan Buddhism Working in the West?" Although my immediate
reaction was somewhat defensive, I have to admit that the author made
several worthwhile points. It might appear futile for me to add yet
another point of view to this seemingly endless debate, but long before
modern civilization celebrated free speech, the Buddha stressed respect
for reasoning, and emphasized that we should examine a path rather than
following it blindly.
Yet, one can't help noticing that even in this so-called "modern age,"
blind faith is not only alive but kicking, even to the extent of people
giving up their lives just because some priest has guaranteed their
passage to heaven. It is not only important for us to exercise this
freedom to examine the path and its authority, but we must also watch
out for the cultural baggage that accompanies it. How much of this
culture does one have to buy into? Does being a Westerner mean that one
lacks the attributes to be a Buddhist? Or do the gurus have to
compromise their teachings to fit into the West? These were some of the
questions brought up in the email I received.
For years, Tibetan lamas have won the hearts and minds of many in the
West, mainly because of the sophisticated wisdom of the Buddha that
they embody, but also because many of them appear gentle and easily
amused. The fact that they are an endangered species helps, too, and if
some of them do not project sufficient saintliness, there are always a
handful of genuine masters that can be put up as window dressing. But
the initial infatuation is ending; moreover, some Westerners are
beginning to realize that there is a big difference between Buddhism
and Tibetan culture. As societal attitudes change, aided by modern
media, the scrutiny of public figures and scepticism towards so-called
spiritual paths has intensified. For the first time, Tibetans in
general and lamas in particular have been forced to savour the
bittersweet taste of free society, where freedom comes with
responsibility and scrutiny. For some, it's becoming a painful
realization that popularity and success come at a price.
Also, reluctantly, Tibetans are accepting that attempts to impose what
they see as a superior way of living are not working. But like many in
the East, Tibetans still clutch firmly to all of their culture as the
ultimate answer to everything, including some of it that they could
beneficially do without. As if that were not enough, many have insisted
that their Western followers adopt the whole cultural package along
with Buddhism. It is this hodgepodge of Tibetan culture and Buddhism
that many are having a hard time digesting. Even basic Buddhist
teachings such as refuge are now being taken theistically because of
inadequate explanation. When we chant prayers like "I take refuge in
the Buddha," we barely mention - and we therefore ignore - its
essential meanings, such as knowing that one's ultimate nature is the
Buddha. Given this, it is little wonder that the author of the article
refers to the gurus and sangha as her captors, instead of her
liberators.
Because lamas have the role of bringing the Dharma to the West, they
have a bigger responsibility for the teachings than do the Western
students who are interested but unfamiliar with them. However, instead
of making the teachings accessible, some Tibetan lamas have created a
huge divide with Westerners through a combination of their superiority
complex, their fundamental lack of respect towards Westerners and an
inadequate interest in Western thinking. The classic Buddhist analogy
of patient, doctor and treatment states that for different patients
with different problems, doctors should apply the appropriate cures.
Yet, if Tibetan lamas ridicule the culture and habits of their Western
students as a total waste of time, how will the remedy ever take
effect? Are they really suggesting that Westerners should be given the
same teachings as illiterate Tibetan nomads? This lack of respect
towards Westerners by Tibetans is not something recent; they have a
long-held assumption that Westerners are barbaric.
Even before 1959, many visitors to Tibet were denied entry simply
because they were foreigners. One could even argue that Tibetans
themselves are mostly to blame for the loss of their country because of
their extreme xenophobia and their disdain and rejection of everything
foreign as unholy. Despite this, many Westerners are charmed by Tibetan
hospitality, politeness and friendliness, little knowing that they
originate more from social obligation than sincerity. Behind most of
those smiling faces, there is still the underlying reality that you are
a Westerner. The few sincere smiles could well originate with the hope
that you could be a sponsor or, more recently, help obtain a green
card.
Another of the author's remarks that can't be dismissed is that the
lamas' complaint is so familiar that it invokes a yawn. Besides seeing
the Western pursuit of Dharma as superficial and fickle, Tibetans
regard it as merely testing the waters, forgetting that the Buddha
himself encourages this analytical attitude. The more that you examine
Buddhism, the more you will discover its greatness. Moreover, for
Tibetans to label Westerners as materialistic is more than a little
ironical, since material pursuit has become one of the top priorities
among Tibetans in general and certain lamas in particular. Big Tibetan
settlements compete over everything from the largest monasteries to the
latest and most prestigious brands of car. If some high lamas were just
to sell their gold and silver teacup holders, they could feed hundreds
of starving Ethiopians for days.
It is true that Tibetans think that Westerners shop for Dharma, and
they can't keep the tantric teachings secret; but are they to blame if
the lamas themselves turned the Dharma into a travelling show,
including performances such as the sand mandala and the lama dances? It
would be better if we could discover all these downfalls of the
Tibetans sooner rather than later. Because otherwise, we might become
disillusioned, and that might be a reason for giving up the Dharma.
But detecting these downfalls is no easy task. Generations of
experience in being hypocritical have left lamas rather subtle and
sophisticated. One example is how many Westerners fall for the almost
annoying theatre of the lamas' humility, little seeing that behind the
curtain is a fierce fight for who gets the highest throne. This
maneuvering becomes especially dramatic when the occasion involves a
large crowd, and even more so, if there are potential big donors
present, especially those from Taiwan, who seem to judge the value of
lamas solely by their rank, or how many letters "H" precede their
names. The image of Gautama with a begging bowl and bare feet walking
humbly on the streets of Maghada seems to have become a mere myth.
The lamas' influence and dominance in Tibet have not only weakened many
secular aspects of Tibetan life such as art, music and literature, in
which the lamas have little interest, but in some cases degraded the
Dharma as well. If it were not for Buddhism's fundamental view of
non-theism, the rule of the more narrow-minded lamas could be as
tyrannical as that of the Taliban.
Despite their emphasis on an ecumenical attitude, many lamas encourage
sectarianism by guarding their Tibetan disciples possessively and
discouraging them from studying teachings from other traditions. Of
course, they have a convenient excuse: their students will become too
confused if they do this. Thus, many Tibetan students from one school
have absolutely no idea of the other traditions; but that doesn't seem
to stop them slandering the others. As if it were not enough that they
are doing this with Tibetans, the lamas have also coached Westerners in
this sectarian game and they have been shockingly successful. They have
also jealously guarded their Dharma centres in the West, although many
are merely vehicles to generate financial support for the lamas and
their monasteries back home. Supporting those Westerners who are
genuinely pursuing the Dharma, or facilitating their studies, are not
their primary interests. So, the question remains: Is Tibetan Buddhism
ever going to work in the barbaric West? Of course, it will.
The fact that Buddhism could be imported and flourish in then-barbaric
Tibet proves that despite the many misdemeanours of its personalities
and its alien culture, Buddhism can and does still work for all kinds
of nationalities, genders and cultural backgrounds. Discarding
Buddhism, as the author seems to have done, merely because of the
misbehaviour of a few Tibetans or their seemingly complex and colourful
way of life, does not seem wise. It is important to remember that it
took many decades and generations of courage and devotion to firmly
establish Buddhism among Tibetans. Why should we expect that it would
be any different in the West? Moreover, measuring the value of Dharma
from a materialist perspective or judging it with the arrogance of a
so-called objective view is dangerous. It may be obvious that planes
fly and boats don't sink, but who is to say whether a person is
enlightened or not? Similarly, we should be cautious when comparing
social systems.
The author's comment that the social governance of the U.S. is far
superior to that of King Trisong Detsun's is ill-judged. During his
reign, the U.S. had yet to massacre many thousands of Native Americans,
let alone have a sense of social governance. By contrast, King Trisong
had the vision to see the social value of Buddhism. He brought it to
Tibet from India, a country with which Tibet had little in common, and
he brought it despite countless hardships such as hostility from the
sacrifice-loving Bon religion. Were it not for his initiative, Tibet
might have adopted the bloodthirsty lifestyle of the local tribes or
the so-called civilization of sycophantic Confucianism from
neighbouring China. Furthermore, by asserting that the West has a very
good understanding of what it means to be a Bodhisattva and comparing
this with concepts such as humanitarianism or social activism, the
author is completely missing the point of the Bodhisattva's path. The
aspiration of a Bodhisattva transcends mere sympathy for needy or
helpless beings. Having that kind of compassion invariably leads one to
become co-dependent, insecure and eventually egoistic, because one ends
up defining oneself by the extent to which one has helped.
By contrast, Bodhisattvas are not attached to their acts of help or the
result. Their aim is to liberate beings from the traps of life and the
myth of freedom. So one might wonder how should a Bodhisattva be?
Gentle? Serene? Humble? Ascetic? These qualities might appear
universally good, and it may be easy to condemn the lamas'
materialistic misdemeanours but, believe it or not, it is even easier
to fall prey to their seemingly wholesome simplicity. Such hypocrisy is
a universal masquerade. I can't help but feel utterly hypocritical on
many occasions, as I can easily see myself as the type of lama the
author was disillusioned by.
Despite having written this, I know that I will not give up any of my
perks, whether high thrones or branded shoes, or even 49 Rolls Royce
automobiles (if someone were to give them to me). It may appear
sacrilegious and corrupt to see supposedly renunciant lamas dwelling in
luxury and enjoying every imaginable privilege. Similarly, it doesn't
look right when a supposedly compassionate and skillful master
manifests as tyrannical and narrow-minded. But one must be aware that
an appearance of simple living can be deceptive. It may sound ironical
but just as some would find it hard to give up worldly goods, others
could be frantically worried about losing their carefully constructed
image of being a simple renunciant and couldn't-care-less crazy wisdom
guy. Isn't it fruitless and painful if one foregoes worldly pleasures
just to keep up an image of humility and simplicity? Not only is one
not advancing on the spiritual path, but also in the process, one is
missing out on a lot of worldly delight.
Given this, we should not condemn the few lamas or practitioners who
are seemingly worldly, if when it comes to benefitting beings, they
display little or no selfishness. We should venerate and emulate such
lamas' absolute indifference towards others' opinions - such as praise
for their simplicity or condemnation of their worldliness - and
venerate, too, their lack of concern about gaining disciples by being
humble or losing them from their behaviour. At least we should admire
them for not being hypocritical.
Unlike them, I feel that I am far from overcoming this hypocrisy of
false humility and attaining a genuine indifference. For me,
renunciation, humility and non-worldliness are still the guiding
principles for my path, but not because I have seen the futility of
worldly life. It is only because I am a Tibetan Buddhist lama, and this
is what the masses think it is right for a lama to do. And what people
think still seems to matter to me.
Yet, no matter how often we judge, it is always in vain. This is not to
say that being judgmental is morally or politically incorrect, but
simply that subjectivity is at the very core of all judgment."
Geir
come out in the wash when we go for the rot in Tibetan Buddhism on the
guru-side down the road from here as we're entering the chapter of the
abusive behaviours soon. Just a question of hours now.
"DISILLUSIONED BY AUTHORITARIAN DOCTRINES
by Charles Carreon
Many of the students who started class early are finishing early. Take
Stephen Batchelor, who started out way ahead of the crowd, translating
Buddhist texts, chumming around with lamas in Dharamsala, learning the
Vajrayana equivalent of the merit badge system. Not only did he
understand it, but he could relate it in writing. If anyone seemed
destined for the title of "lotsawa" it would certainly have been him.
But somewhere along the way, his sincerity became an obstacle to his
growth within the Tibetan Buddhist system. Failing to sufficiently
value his opportunities within the hierarchy, he allowed his personal
desire for understanding to take precedence. He could have been a
khenpo, now people respect him less than a bonpo. What went wrong? He's
so low even people who haven't started their ngondro can afford to
dislike him without fear of reproach. His books are no longer endorsed
by important lamas, his stock is about to be de-listed, and there is
certainly nothing in his 401K.
How does this happen? Surely it is Stephen's fault. A deep personality
flaw that took its time in manifesting. Previously undetected strata of
stony pride and repelling the drill bit of vajra wisdom. A heart
unsoftened by devotion, refusing entry to the guru's grace. All things
that any Pema-come-lately knows to avoid, and will avoid, as the
protectors give them strength. And don't forget to use deodorant,
prostrations make you stink like a pig.
While apparently quality people like Batchelor consign themselves to
the trash heap of modern Buddhist road-kill, low-lifes continue to move
up the ladder. The hereditary low-lifes accept their entitlements with
all the aplomb of pampered royalty, knowing better than to question a
system that bestows such blessings. Aspiring purchasers of titles have
found that generosity is indeed the first perfection to which they must
aspire. All other blessings then follow.
Dr. Rick Strassman, the bold and dedicated psychedelic researcher had
his license to practice Buddhism summarily revoked when an aging Zen
master got wind of his plans to let people explore their minds with
chemicals under the rubric of a spiritual quest. Meanwhile, Joan
Halifax, ex-wife of Stan Grof and long-time promoter of altered states,
tacks "Roshi" onto the end of her name, apparently having found a more
accommodating doctrinal perch. Or perhaps it turned out, under
questioning, that she didn't inhale.
The search for doctrinal legitimacy is doomed. Buddhists are as
sectarian as Baptists, just as convinced that their sect is right and
that others, while tentatively entitled to acceptance as sister-sects,
would fundamentally be better off changing their beliefs to accord with
the Real Truth. The real strengths of the Eastern sects are their
incorporation of mass methods of subjugation by the use of powerful
symbols. Uniformly patriarchal, skilled in using authoritarian props
like thrones, robes, staffs and scepters, the Easterners can control a
crowd more reliably than Mick Jagger. And accomplish the same thing --
subjugate all the men, and excite all the women. In this way, both
sexes work for free, attempting to work their way up to the pyramid of
recognized loyalty and desirableness.
What many aspirants have found is that it's a long way to the top, and
there isn't much of a view. When you have collected all of your merit
badges and apply for your certificate, it turns out there's not much
there. If you want a title, a position where you can work like an
indentured servant indefinitely to accomplish things that someone else
decided must be done, you may retire in this position. But most people
would find a job at the post office more rewarding. The apex of a
religious venture is always as detestably twisted as any other human
power focus. But it is twice as galling to find yourself there at the
end of a quest for self-fulfillment That is where the exiles are coming
from, and no one wants to hear what they have to say. They are going
down the upstaircase, and are seen as just being old and in the way,
poisoned by the wine of sour grapes. But suppose they are like the
people heading out of the Two Towers on 9-11? Suppose they are telling
everyone to turn around, go back, and return home for their own safety.
It will give them no satisfaction to see those who do not listen
consumed in the disaster."
Geir
at least introduce the later critique of the abuse and wrong path of
the fake gurus that will make up the mainstay of the page at ABOL that
I'll be posting now shortly. There's still a lot to post, so I'll keep
posting in rapid-fire fashion.
There's no holding back for the abusers now in Tibetan Buddhism that
have to go and all the whole structure that they condemn by their evil
deeds too.
Time to come to closure now with all the trash that's piled up over all
these years :
"WHY I CAN'T EMBRACE BUDDHISM
by John Horgan
Buddhist Retreat
Why I gave up on finding my religion.
For a 2,500-year-old religion, Buddhism seems remarkably compatible
with our scientifically oriented culture, which may explain its surging
popularity here in America. Over the last 15 years, the number of
Buddhist centers in the United States has more than doubled, to well
over 1,000. As many as 4 million Americans now practice Buddhism,
surpassing the total of Episcopalians. Of these Buddhists, half have
post-graduate degrees, according to one survey. Recently, convergences
between science and Buddhism have been explored in a slew of
books—including Zen and the Brain and The Psychology of Awakening—and
scholarly meetings. Next fall Harvard will host a colloquium titled
"Investigating the Mind," where leading cognitive scientists will swap
theories with the Dalai Lama. Just the other week the New York Times
hailed the "rapprochement between modern science and ancient [Buddhist]
wisdom."
Four years ago, I joined a Buddhist meditation class and began talking
to (and reading books by) intellectuals sympathetic to Buddhism.
Eventually, and regretfully, I concluded that Buddhism is not much more
rational than the Catholicism I lapsed from in my youth; Buddhism's
moral and metaphysical worldview cannot easily be reconciled with
science—or, more generally, with modern humanistic values.
For many, a chief selling point of Buddhism is its supposed de-emphasis
of supernatural notions such as immortal souls and God. Buddhism
"rejects the theological impulse," the philosopher Owen Flanagan
declares approvingly in The Problem of the Soul. Actually, Buddhism is
functionally theistic, even if it avoids the "G" word. Like its parent
religion Hinduism, Buddhism espouses reincarnation, which holds that
after death our souls are re-instantiated in new bodies, and karma, the
law of moral cause and effect. Together, these tenets imply the
existence of some cosmic judge who, like Santa Claus, tallies up our
naughtiness and niceness before rewarding us with rebirth as a
cockroach or as a saintly lama.
Western Buddhists usually downplay these supernatural elements,
insisting that Buddhism isn't so much a religion as a practical method
for achieving happiness. They depict Buddha as a pragmatist who
eschewed metaphysical speculation and focused on reducing human
suffering. As the Buddhist scholar Robert Thurman put it, Buddhism is
an "inner science," an empirical discipline for fulfilling our minds'
potential. The ultimate goal is the state of preternatural bliss,
wisdom, and moral grace sometimes called enlightenment—Buddhism's
version of heaven, except that you don't have to die to get there.
The major vehicle for achieving enlightenment is meditation, touted by
both Buddhists and alternative-medicine gurus as a potent way to calm
and comprehend our minds. The trouble is, decades of research have
shown meditation's effects to be highly unreliable, as James Austin, a
neurologist and Zen Buddhist, points out in Zen and Brain. Yes, it can
reduce stress, but, as it turns out, no more so than simply sitting
still does. Meditation can even exacerbate depression, anxiety, and
other negative emotions in certain people.
The insights imputed to meditation are questionable, too. Meditation,
the brain researcher Francisco Varela told me before he died in 2001,
confirms the Buddhist doctrine of anatta, which holds that the self is
an illusion. Varela contended that anatta has also been corroborated by
cognitive science, which has discovered that our perception of our
minds as discrete, unified entities is an illusion foisted upon us by
our clever brains. In fact, all that cognitive science has revealed is
that the mind is an emergent phenomenon, which is difficult to explain
or predict in terms of its parts; few scientists would equate the
property of emergence with nonexistence, as anatta does.
Much more dubious is Buddhism's claim that perceiving yourself as in
some sense unreal will make you happier and more compassionate.
Ideally, as the British psychologist and Zen practitioner Susan
Blackmore writes in The Meme Machine, when you embrace your essential
selflessness, "guilt, shame, embarrassment, self-doubt, and fear of
failure ebb away and you become, contrary to expectation, a better
neighbor." But most people are distressed by sensations of unreality,
which are quite common and can be induced by drugs, fatigue, trauma,
and mental illness as well as by meditation.
Even if you achieve a blissful acceptance of the illusory nature of
your self, this perspective may not transform you into a saintly
bodhisattva, brimming with love and compassion for all other creatures.
Far from it—and this is where the distance between certain humanistic
values and Buddhism becomes most apparent. To someone who sees himself
and others as unreal, human suffering and death may appear laughably
trivial. This may explain why some Buddhist masters have behaved more
like nihilists than saints. Chogyam Trungpa, who helped introduce
Tibetan Buddhism to the United States in the 1970s, was a promiscuous
drunk and bully, and he died of alcohol-related illness in 1987. Zen
lore celebrates the sadistic or masochistic behavior of sages such as
Bodhidharma, who is said to have sat in meditation for so long that his
legs became gangrenous.
What's worse, Buddhism holds that enlightenment makes you morally
infallible—like the pope, but more so. Even the otherwise sensible
James Austin perpetuates this insidious notion. " 'Wrong' actions won't
arise," he writes, "when a brain continues truly to express the
self-nature intrinsic to its [transcendent] experiences." Buddhists
infected with this belief can easily excuse their teachers' abusive
acts as hallmarks of a "crazy wisdom" that the unenlightened cannot
fathom.
But what troubles me most about Buddhism is its implication that
detachment from ordinary life is the surest route to salvation.
Buddha's first step toward enlightenment was his abandonment of his
wife and child, and Buddhism (like Catholicism) still exalts male
monasticism as the epitome of spirituality. It seems legitimate to ask
whether a path that turns away from aspects of life as essential as
sexuality and parenthood is truly spiritual. From this perspective, the
very concept of enlightenment begins to look anti-spiritual: It
suggests that life is a problem that can be solved, a cul-de-sac that
can be, and should be, escaped.
Some Western Buddhists have argued that principles such as
reincarnation, anatta, and enlightenment are not essential to Buddhism.
In Buddhism Without Beliefs and The Faith To Doubt, the British teacher
Stephen Batchelor eloquently describes his practice as a method for
confronting—rather than transcending—the often painful mystery of life.
But Batchelor seems to have arrived at what he calls an "agnostic"
perspective in spite of his Buddhist training—not because of it. When I
asked him why he didn't just call himself an agnostic, Batchelor
shrugged and said he sometimes wondered himself.
All religions, including Buddhism, stem from our narcissistic wish to
believe that the universe was created for our benefit, as a stage for
our spiritual quests. In contrast, science tells us that we are
incidental, accidental. Far from being the raison d'être of the
universe, we appeared through sheer happenstance, and we could vanish
in the same way. This is not a comforting viewpoint, but science,
unlike religion, seeks truth regardless of how it makes us feel.
Buddhism raises radical questions about our inner and outer reality,
but it is finally not radical enough to accommodate science's
disturbing perspective. The remaining question is whether any form of
spirituality can."
Geir
it's fraudlent representatives is this thread's message. Tara and
Charles Carreon; a for them, are on track for real Buddhism themselves
because they do exactly what Buddha ordered which is to examine for
themselves what is offered them in terms of ideas, deeds, behaviour,
thoughts and speech.
They then criticize what they don't appreciate understand or accept as
for the face-value of what it is given to them as. When they find fault
in things, they open up their mouths and don't remain silent. They are
thus doing what Buddha said to do to keep Buddhism clean : "Think !"
Here's more of how they've destructured Buddhism from the base up to
the top. They've done what others should have done and didn't but got
caught up into herd-cult- thinking.
Geir
fraudulent use of it.
The unmasking of frauds goes on over at ABOL; American Buddha Online
Library, a treasure-trove of frauds.
"BUDDHIST MODERNISM AND THE AMERICAN BUDDHIST LINEAGE
by Laurence O. McKinney
Director, American Institute for Mindfulness
On March 31, performance artist Laurie Anderson was at CyberSmith,
Marshall Smith's net-wired virtual cafe in Cambridge. She was doing a
major show in Boston and previewing her new CD-ROM Puppet Motel
(Voyager). She also nearly died two summers ago from altitude sickness
during a Himalayan pilgrimage in Tibet. We share a name, twenty years
of electric music, and a Kalachakra with the Dalai Lama. Today it was
interactive data, that night it was sizzling violin. "Got a quote for
CyberSangha?" I asked, knowing that vajra-sisters tell the truth.
"Well," she said, as mindful as ever, "Buddhism is sort of digital
isn't it?"
Zero or one? Or in the middle considering both? There is no reason for
zero without a one, no one without a zero to come from, it's sort of
digital for sure. No Nirvana without Samsara, no signal without noise,
no mu without ma. Buddhism at its basics has always sounded like
science to Americans, and as we log on and take our part in creating
the interactive Dharma network, we take part in a very distinctive
Buddhist lineage. It is a Buddhism that is active, individual,
egalitarian and engaged, media friendly, synthetic, and universalistic.
What few have noticed, and some are beginning to recognize, is that
these characteristics identify a distinctly American Buddhist lineage,
one well over a century old, which has already influenced world Dharma
traditions so extensively that modern Asian Buddhist now depends on it
for both relevance and survival.
Christopher Queen lectures in comparative religion at Harvard
University. A Buddhist in action as well as practice, both he and his
teaching assistant, 25 year old Soto Zen priest Duncan Williams, have
recently published articles in Tricycle concerned with the American
Buddhist experience. One of Queen's major interests is the
cross-pollenization which occurred between American and Asian Buddhist
thinkers during the second half of the nineteenth century. An American
delegate to the recent world conference of "engaged Buddhists" he
noticed the pervasive mood of political, and even ecological activism
that characterized the event and the participants.
As Sri Lankan monks continue to politic, as Thai monks ordain trees to
save them from multinational forest reapers, and young Tibetans post
press releases and march from Dharamsala to Delhi, we might ask where
this very modern spirit of activism came from. If Tibetan Buddhists had
acted like this fifty years ago, China would never have been able to
take over. The answer is that a great deal of what is now being
referred to as Buddhist Modernism got its start not in any Asian
culture or Buddhist shastra, but developed out of the blending of
American Buddhist action with Asian Buddhist Wisdom, a tradition that
got its start in 1880.
Thich Nhat Hanh, the Vietnamese monk who coined the phrase "engaged
Buddhism," was influenced in his activism by the works and activities
of Sri Lankan Buddhist reformer Walpola Rahula. Rahula's very un-Asian
activism and individualism, his use of the media and emphasis on human
rights was not from Nikaya or Theravadin Buddhism. This Sri Lankan
tradition, nearly a hundred years old, was propelled by the reverse
missionary activities of the American theosophists Helena Blavatsky and
her companion Col. Henry Steel Olcott. Olcott was a lawyer, a Civil War
hero, and a journalist as well. He was a typical Victorian, full of
optimism, individualism, and activism which characterized his times.
When he and Blavatsky came to the aid of some Buddhist students, and
then publicly took refuge, or pansil, in 1880, they became the toast of
the island. America was where the telegraph had been operating for
years and the telephone was about to arrive, where railroads were
stretching across the land and mass dailies were common, filled with
international events. In Asia, Buddhism was where it was and had been
for fifteen hundred years, wherever it was. By 1880, there were very
Japanese Buddhists, very Tibetan Buddhists, very Sri Lankan Buddhists
and so on. The lineages were entirely local, and entirely woven into
local culture.
Olcott, whose Buddhism was measured in years rather than centuries, was
thinking pan-Buddhist thoughts from the beginning. His American notions
of Buddhism were infused with all his Victorian values from
Jeffersonian democracy to love of technology. Many Sri Lankans were
straining to be Western. Between the Colonel's Yankee salesmanship and
his foreign appeal, many Sri Lankans found the new combination of
values finger-licking good and bought in. The American-inspired
Buddhist revival in Sri Lanka virtually pre-empted state Sri Lankan
Buddhism into the populist, socially active Dharma referred to now as
"Protestant Buddhism."
One young Sri Lankan who was completely taken with their work was the
young Anagarika Dharmapala, who went on to found the Mahabodhi Society,
the first world Buddhist organization. The American teachings were
already taking hold.
Buddhism was not unknown in nineteenth century America. Few proclaimed
themselves to be Buddhists, but the extraordinary popularity of Edwin
Arnold's heroic life of the Buddha, The Light of Asia, published in
1878, made Buddhism a subject of debate and investigation in Victorian
philosophical and religious circles. In 1893, the Olcott-ized
Protestant Buddhist Dharmapala became one of the great hits of the
World Congress of Religions at the Chicago World's Fair. Another big
winner was D.T. Suzuki, who came as the translator for Japanese Zen
teacher Soen Shaku. Scholar Thomas Tweed, in his recent work The
American Encounter with Buddhism, put the Victorian American Buddhists
in perspective by assigning them to three categories.
"Esoteric" Buddhists, which included Col. Olcott, tended to synthesize
their Dharma and blend it thoroughly with theosophy, spiritualism, or
the teachings of Emmanuel Swedenborg. These Buddhists were concerned
with seeking inner knowledge and spiritual power through practice and
study, and were not overly concerned with the purity of any specific
lineage. They were the first to mix up the American curry and serve it
abroad through writings and other activities.
In the 1890's, Ernest Fennellosa and William Sturgis Bigelow, two
Boston Brahmins, were among the most prominent of the "romantic
Buddhists", attracted to many aspects of Japanese culture. These
American Buddhists rejected many of the Victorian impulses found in
Protestant Buddhism, and attempted to adopt stricter Japanese
practices. They often felt out of place in America. Fennellosa and
writer Lafcadio Herne both lived for extended periods of time in Japan
and felt most comfortable, like Ruth Fuller Sasaki, practicing in
Japanese monasteries. They never really caught on as they had no local
teachers to popularize their schools.
The third Victorian category was "rationalists". Many of these
Buddhists and Buddhist sympathizers were converts from the popular
schools of social Darwinism promoted by works of Herbert Spencer. Even
Fennellosa said to the end that it was Spencerian aspects of the Buddha
Dharma which formed the mainstays of his own belief, if not his
Japanese practice. Other rationalists include the first American to
proclaim himself to be a Buddhist, Dyer Daniel Lum, writer Thomas
Wentworth Higginson, and others who congregated at Harvard Divinity
School at the turn of the last century. The ascendance of scientific
method had infused and invigorated the entire Victorian religious
scene, and Buddhism offered what seemed a much more logical way of
looking at things.
Rationalist Paul Carus discovered his Dharma at the 1893 World Council
of Religions. Founding the Open Court Press, the first consistent
American Buddhist media, he imported D.T. Suzuki, thus establishing a
teacher in the United States who provided his consistent, if
Westernized, Zen teachings to two generations of American thinkers.
Suzuki's Zen was considerably influenced by Kyoto school philosophers
such as Nishima Kitaro, heavily influenced themselves by concepts of
transcendent mind states borrowed from Heidegger, some nihilism from
Nietzsche, and even the mindful American William James. Carus, an
activist, media-creating, networking egalitarian who tended to be
synthetic in his own thinking, was clearly of the pure American
lineage. D.T. Suzuki's Westernized Kyotized Zen was actually more a
mixture than his patron's simple but straightforward American Buddhist
traditional values.
If Suzuki was influenced by Nietzsche and James, if Thich Nhat Hanh
borrows much from the political and engaged "Protestant Buddhist"
model, if the Tibetan freedom movement has little to do with classic
Tibetan Buddhist/Chinese relations and more to do with media and social
activism borrowed from American Buddhist traditions, what are we really
seeing? As popular American figures such as Tina Turner, Cindy
Crawford, Richard Gere, and others profess their Buddhist inclinations,
it could be said that the aspects of Buddhism attractive to them are
actually familiar Western traditions emerging through Asian teachers
influenced by our own ancestors. In another, and perhaps more honest
appraisal, the American Buddhist lineage is not only unique and
consistent, it has become the method behind Buddhist Modernism and its
engaged stance on a worldwide basis.
Carus hailed the Buddha as "the first prophet of the religion of
science." Many other Victorians echoed Bostonian John Ogden Gorden, who
in 1875 wrote to a friend "We have heard so much about the beauty of
this system." As Buddha Dharma is basically a systematic philosophy, it
fits computers, communications, technology, ecology, and now world
networking like source code to a chip. Dharma parallel processes, while
top-down hierarchical theologies are like the earlier computers.
The entire idea of everything turning into ones and zeroes and being
instantly music or video or information or anything else, anywhere else
is hard for most people to understand who are not familiar with deep
Abhidharma. Otherwise, they would have to be scientists or American
Buddhists of the late twentieth century, projecting that same active,
individualistic, media-friendly and ever-networking value system of our
ancestral lineage, our 125 years of high tech, activist American Style
Buddha Dharma.
In the fall 1994 issue of Tricycle, Japanese-Canadian religion
professor Victor Sogen Hori charged that American Buddhists have
overturned beliefs basic to most Asian Buddhist sects with their ideas
of autonomy, Western morality, and psychotherapy. In Christopher
Queen's class, Japanese American Duncan Williams lectures on the
various aspects of American Buddhism. At Harvard, he has no problem
combining his Soto Zen work with scholarship and eco-activism in the
Pacific Northwest. Hori is correct that American Buddhists aren't Asian
Buddhists, but that doesn't mean they aren't Buddhists. Most Americans
are, at the heart, classic American Buddhists. We synthesize everything
from nylon to neptunium and we see all the schools as basically created
equal in a way no Asian could imagine.
We came clean to the Dharma, we didn't have our minds wrapped in the
robes of any particular cultural religious hierarchy and we don't like
hierarchies very much. American Buddhism has always been a synthesis,
something that could never have happened in Asia where each country had
its culture stamped all over the teachings. Americans are idea people,
pioneers, experimenters by nature. The idea of anybody freeing Tibet by
meditating in a cave for a few years may be fine for an Asian
contemplative, but American Buddhists do it with media, just as we have
since the days of Olcott Roshi, Lama Lum, Wisdom Woman Blavatsky and
Khenpo Carus.
American Buddhists have always blended current science with the Dharma
teachings of different Asian schools to create our unique and
individualistic Dharma. We certainly have a string of teachers. Olcott
may have been the first, but the American lineage right now includes
roshis like poet and activist Gary Snyder, Geshe Joanna Macy and her
systematic cybernetic shastras, EcoDharma Sister Joan Halifax, Tantra
Teacher Miranda Shaw and the entire neurotheology movement at the
Harvard Divinity School.
Each of these teachers and works are individualistic, synthetic,
universalistic, and media friendly. Each has taken from many teachers,
each is basically Buddhist, and each is completely sincere. We even
have a lineage of American Buddhist yogis, anarchists like Lum, our
poets and wanderers like Jack Kerouac, and our fiery virtual vajra
sister Laurie Anderson. There are many more.
We needn't feel so new, either. Starting with our first Sri Lankan
missionary activity, American Buddhism predates the Sokka Gakkai, the
Kyoto School, and is older than some of the Tibetan Dzog-Chen lineages.
It's a fact that the 5th Dzog-Chen Rinpoche was alive and well in 1935,
which means his particular monastery, featured in Sogyal Rinpoche's
recent works, couldn't be older than some large American corporations.
In the last decades of the twentieth century, as multiple Asian
lineages expanded their teachings to the West, the Westernized East has
been taking to heart the American style of mindfulness. In the broadly
based, activist, ecological Buddhist trends that are now forcing the
Asian Buddhist establishment to change in every country, we are
witnessing the result of the seeds we planted with the synthesis we
started 115 years ago. As Asian monks and leaders move into the
mainstream and encounter the new world of Buddhism, the occasional
scandal, and more than occasional debates are bound to occur. Still,
this is a movement that will change the face of Asian Dharma, and we
had a part in it. Thomas Tweed's classification still holds at the end
of the twentieth century. Neo-esoterics are with us, reminding us that
all the great masters attained their powers in prescribed ways, and
that we must practice, sit, and chant for serenity, fortitude and
insight. Some neo-Romantics build beautiful Zen temples or stupas,
preserving and maintaining a rich cultural archive. Others organize to
free Tibet, filled with visions of meditating monks, wise lamas, and
Himalayan peaks. Some chant only in Tibetan, Japanese, or Pali, or wear
the robes of Eastern priests, comfortable in oriental traditions and
preserve the past of another people in another time. They remind us in
their individuality how many roots a tree can have, all supporting the
same trunk. Each was, after all, the only style of Buddhism that a
people had ever known. In their consistency, they provide a refuge for
anyone disenchanted or disheartened with the American cultural style.
Perhaps the fastest growing community of American Buddhists would be
the Neo-rationalists. The reason they are growing is that this group
alone can lay claim to the American Buddhist lineage and be proud of a
type of Buddhism only a bunch of Americans would have come up with. As
those who left their practice or became disillusioned by the Dharma
because they could not be Asian realize there is a real American
Dharma, there will be many more. In the neo-rationalist digital
Buddhist world, as we connect up in closer and closer contact with data
Dharma brothers and sisters on the Internet, we begin to see something
independent arising. While those seeking peace or power turn inwards
and others immerse in foreign cultures, American CyberBuddhists are
going online and checking it out world-wide. What do we find in
Thailand? What sort of Buddhists Are the leading thinkers in Malaysia?
They are all preaching the active, involved, universal, engaged,
autonomous Dharma of the fine old American lineage. They are all
political, active, networking, and media friendly.
"They seemed very set on the idea that small was beautiful," recounts
Queen, I often found myself the only Westerner in the group trying to
convince them that big wasn't always bad. It's clear that American
Buddhists have a job of convincing to do. The Dharma was and always
will be systematic, but it was the U.S. Army that brought water to the
Rwandans, not any Asian charity. These are the sorts of powerful
systems that are now more than ever open to direction towards
humanitarian causes. As the threat of global conflict recedes, the
threat of global cooperation rears its head, which tends to frighten
those wedded to a culture. Hopefully, good minded women and men will be
able to use their minds and their hearts to use these powerful systems,
to engage them, network them, and direct them for the benefit of all
sentient beings.
There is one traditional lineage these days that is prepared to take
wisdom to the max, effort to the extreme, and compassion to the world.
American Buddhism is young, but it is strong, and as Thais squabble as
to how to save their forests, as disenchanted Japanese are lured into
strange cults and Koreans become swooning Pentacostals by the millions,
we American Buddhists have something for the world that just might
help. Heck, we've been doing this sort of thing since our revolution
back in 1776. We communicate, we disseminate, and we activate.
This is our Dana, the gift we started exporting over a century ago.
It's internetworking, it's universalistic, it's synthetic and it's
engaged. It never was Asian, it's our own Victorian-
Protestant-Mystic-Spencerian-Yankee-Doodle-Dharma and it has lit a
light in Asia we can all be proud of. Yo, Asian Dharma dudes! We be
with you!"
Geir : We better also look to the Millenarianist tradition from the
Bible that's also being reintroduced under the guise of Buddhism. All
in all, this will all come out in the wash when all has been equalized
and brought up front and the time of Kalachakra comes forth. That will
mean confronting all the frauds that ABOL puts out in public and
denouces roundly as I'll get around to soon.
Geir
and to the politics of post-communist Tibet, but it's all the same now
seeing Tibet's lost and the approach he has to what happened since
then, in exile, and the abuse-denouncing he does of people in
post-Tibet Buddhism... is the same as mine and he denounces the smut
and abuse that I also do in these massive postings of his whole site
here on ARBT.
Here's his take on the whole Dalai Lama succcession lineage and it's
unfortunate tragedies.
"THE DALAI LAMAS, PRISONERS OF THE POTALA JUNTA
by Charles Carreon
The First Dalai Lama didn't apparently know anything about being a
Dalai Lama. That is because, like the Second Dalai Lama, he was only
recognized "posthumously." Who did the recognizing? Well, the Third
Dalai Lama! When did he do it? After he identified himself as the Third
Dalai Lama! Wow, that's kind of like writing your resume with the
qualifications of dead people, but what the heck. They're not around to
object.
This tradition continues with the current Dalai Lama (14DL), who voiced
an intuition to a TIME reporter once while visiting Monticello, the
home of Thomas Jefferson, that he might have previously incarnated as
this early President of the United States. Wow, author of the
Declaration of Independence, member of the First Constitutional
Congress, and Third President of the United States! Well, let's see,
that would have been in 1776. A little arithmetic will show us that,
during that time period, the Eighth Dalai Lama (8DL) was on the throne
in Tibet. Okay, assume that he did not only reincarnate successively as
a bunch of Tibetans, he generated a double and had him reborn in
Virginia (where he developed a taste for having sex with his slaves,
but that's another story). Assuming this, he was simultaneously T.
Jefferson, Founding Father of the USA, and Jamphel Gyatso (1758-1804),
who according to this website
http://news.mpr.org/features/200105/07_newsroom_dalai/bios.shtml at
Minnesota Public Radio ("MPR"), "was uninterested in politics, and for
a 150-year period starting with his reign, day-to-day power was
exercised in Tibet neither by Dalai lamas nor the Chinese ambans, but
by a series of regents. During Jamphel Gyatso's reign, Tibet fought
wars with the Gurkhas of Nepal, and received a delegation from England,
which was interested in Tibet because of its strategic location in
relation to British India, China, and Czarist Russia. The Tibetans at
this time began to severely restrict outside visitors."
So, what a guy! A real diplomat this 8DL/Third US President. He's
fighting a war with Britain on one side of the world, and having them
to tea on the other side. And the British none the wiser.
At any rate, you'd figure once he got back from this double
incarnation, he'd drop the apolitical stance of the Eighth Dalai Lama
and import some democratic reforms into Tibet. Let's check the Ninth
DL's record.
Whoops! He didn't get much of a chance, since he was "likely murdered"
at age 11 by his compassionate tutors. According to MPR, 9DL Lungtok
Gyatso (1806-1815) enjoyed a very brief reign. He "died at age 11 in
the Potala palace. Some historians believe that, given the tumultuous
state of Tibetan politics, he was assassinated. The subsequent three
Dalai Lamas also died young. Some theories suggest they, too, were
murdered." Well, maybe he did come back from America with some ideas
for reform!
At any rate, back to the Dalai Lama and the Mongol thugs. What's that
about? The Third DL recognized himself as the incarnation of two men
who had apparently never prophesied that, in the future, they would be
reborn as 3DL. IN-teresting, that. Because one of the bulwarks of
"credibility" for the serial-reincarnation hypothesis is that the
births of the reincarnated ones are foreseen by the prior incarnation.
This slim warrant of authority is lacking for the Third Dalai Lama. But
what did he care? He had Mongol muscle to back his claim.
How'd that happen? Well, kind of like with the TIME reporters. The
Third DL was hanging out with Altan Khan in around 1578 when suddenly
he had a flash. In a past life, 3DL told the Khan, he had been a famous
Tibetan warlord! And in that past life as a Tibetan warlord, the Khan's
spiritual mentor had been -- YES! Prior incarnations of 3DL! Happy
reunion! Kill the fatted calf.
And who was 4DL? Squeeze your eyes shut really hard and think about how
Tibetans work. Make your guess! YES! The Fourth Dalai Lama was Altan
Khan's Grandson! YES!
So what happened in the reign of 5DL? Let's just take a quote from the
Shamarpa's website
http://www.karmapa-controversy.org/VA/VA-Quelques-donnees.html, since
they can be presumed to know their Tibetan history pretty well:
"The landscape of the old Tibet was dotted with wars, political
intrigue, and bloody feuds. For centuries, two old, "red-hat" Buddhist
schools, the Sakya and the Kagyu, held, one after the other, undisputed
sway over the country. By the beginning of the seventeenth century, a
new power had emerged and began to threaten the political status quo:
the Gelugs, or Virtuous Ones, a "yellow-hat," reformed Buddhist order,
founded around 1410 by a disciple of the 4th Karmapa. Led by the mighty
5th Dalai Lama and his authoritative ministers, the Gelugs invited
Gushri Khan, the Mongolian warlord, into Tibet in 1638. Their design
was to break the power of the Kagyus, take over the government, and
secure a hold on Kham in the east and the rebellious Tsang in the south
of the country. Given free rein, the ferocious Mongol hordes razed to
the ground or converted to the Gelugpa tradition a large number of
Nyingma monasteries. The 10th Karmapa had to flee into a thirty-year
exile after his camp was attacked by an army operating on orders from
the Dalai Lama's ministers. The school of the Virtuous Ones imposed
their political hegemony with sword and fire."
5DL was such a powerful figure that his "regent" concealed his death
for about fifteen years. MPR wrote:
"Lozang Gyatso's death in 1682 was not announced until 1697, as the
regent of Tibet attempted to monopolize power."
That's cool. This DL scam gets manipulated every which way. When
they're dead, you conceal their death for fifteen years, and -- wait a
minute -- how the hell do you conceal the DL's death for fifteen years?
Wouldn't somebody notice? That will give you an idea how tight lips
were sealed in the Potala. And if you think you can keep a political
secret for fifteen years without killing a few people and bribing a
hell of a lot more, then you should definitely be a Tibetan Buddhist,
'cause you can believe anything.
But eventually, someone finds out that the DL is dead, and you gotta
pick a new one. No problem.
6DL hasn't been discussed before, but he also died young, at age 23. He
made the mistake of alienating the Mongols who had made the DLs the
puppet leaders of the nation. The Mongols invaded, kicked him off the
throne, and killed him when he tried to flee Tibet. From the MPR site:
"Tsangyang Gyatso (1683-1706). Because of the delay in announcing the
Fifth Dalai Lama's death, Tsangyang Gyatso was well into his teens
before he was recognized as the Sixth Dalai Lama. He is considered to
be the most unconventional Dalai Lama. He dressed as a layperson, drank
wine, enjoyed the company of women and composed love songs that are
still popular in Tibet. His eccentric style alienated him from Mongol
leader Lhabzang Khan, who invaded Tibet during this time and deposed
Tsangyang Gyatso. He died while leaving the country; many historians
believe he was murdered. Lhabsang Khan appointed another monk, Yeshe
Gyatso, as the Seventh Dalai Lama, but his legitimacy has never been
recognized by the Tibetan people."
7DL knew better than to piss off the politicians, because his posse got
the Chinese to push out the Mongols, who had deposed 6DL. 7DL remained
a figurehead political leader, with a Chinese "amban" making all the
decisions pursuant to Chinese law.
8DL we already discussed. Another hands-off leader, thanks perhaps to
having transferred his political spirit through the ether to his
co-incarnation, Thomas Jefferson.
9DL, as we know, died young. Here's the stats on 10DL, 11DL and 12DL,
indicating that here was a position with no job security. From the MPR
website again:
"10th
Tsultrim Gyatso (1816-1837). Like his predecessor, Tsultrim Gyatso died
suddenly in Potala before assuming temporal power. During his brief
life, Tibet continued to isolate itself, while keeping a suspicious eye
on its borders.
11th
Khendrup Gyatso (1838-1856). He was the third in a series of Dalai
Lamas who died at an early age. During Khendrup Gyatso's life, China's
influence in Tibet weakened further because of the Opium War and the
Taiping Rebellion. Tibet's struggles continued with Nepal and Ladakh to
the west.
12th
Trinley Gyatso (1856-1875). His reign was a time of severe unrest among
Tibet's neighbors. The weaker Qing dynasty was unable to provide
military support because of its own battles. At the same time, the
British intensified pressure on the Tibetan borders, from their
colonial bastion in India."
Time for Arithmetic:
10DL was killed at age 21 "before assuming temporal power." That's 21
years of rule by regents.
11DL was killed at age 18, so that's another 18 years of regent-rule.
12DL was killed at age 19, adding another 19 years of regent-rule.
If you ask whether the Trimondis are off their nut with their book, The
Shadow of the Dalai Lama (see the Thorn in the Lotus thread), which
alludes to murder and human sacrifice as elements of ritual, you must
consider this fact: the Holy Men in the Potala somehow killed the
God-king Four Times! Serially going through this charade of "finding a
reincarnation," taking him from his family, and mummifying him in
ritual, then sending him off to the heavenly realms. Probably they did
it with careful rituals that made sure his soul wouldn't get bruised
from all that birth, death, rebirth stuff.
Now consider also that the old lamas who committed the god-murders have
also been reincarnating. There's no history to say that finally the
Potala Junta was broken up and 12DL was therefore not murdered, and all
of his killers were forbidden to reincarnate. Hell no, the Potala Junta
leaders continued to reincarnate, and their later incarnations still
hold positions of power within the Gelugpa power structure.
So lemme ask you this: when 14DL draws inspirational support from his
lineage, how the hell does he do it? What's it like to know that he is
surrounded by the reincarnations of people who serially killed his past
incarnations, assuming he believes in this stuff. How do you draw
inspiration from a guy like 3DL, who apparently was a total
opportunist. How do you draw inspiration from 4DL, who was the grandson
of the guy who bought into 3DL's "Hey man, we were together in past
incarnations!" scam? How do you draw inspiration from 5DL, who
converted people by the sword and took over opposing monasteries in a
gangsterish takeover assisted by Gushri Khan's mongol thugs that put
rival sect leaders into exile.
But let's move on. Finally 13DL lives a normal lifespan. How is that?
Well, he was a jumpy kinda guy. Probably got to thinkin' about what had
happened to 9DL - 12DL, and got a fuckin' clue. Most people say he fled
Tibet twice to escape outside aggression. See MPR website. However, I
suspect that he wanted to get the hell out of the Potala any damn way
he could. Much better out their traveling amongst the poor people who
think you're god, than in the castle, where everyone thinks they're
god, and you're just a pawn in their game. All of the old conniving
lamas stay in Lhasa, with their wealth and ceremonies. You get out on
horseback with the yak herders, and you're a lot safer.
14DL has followed the same tactic, at least by getting out of Lhasa. It
has probably saved his life, if the histories of the prior five DLs
tells us anything.
Of course, you probably think he had no choice but to abdicate, but I
question that. Remember how suspicious it was when "W" hid in a bunker
while the WTO towers were reduced to smoking ruin. When London was
being bombed with V2 rockets and buzz bombs, did Churchill flee to
America? Why is Israel pushing so hard to evict Arafat? Abdication is
the abandonment of your followers, that's why. A leader in exile is no
leader at all.
>From a traditional viewpoint, leaving Tibet was an enormous bungle. The
first time 14DL left, on December 20, 1950, he simultaneously sent a
delegation from Lhasa to Beijing to negotiate a deal with the PRC. The
delegates unanimously signed an agreement that essentially "wiped out
Tibetan autonomy," and still provides the basis for the PRC to claim
that Tibet is part of China. See the text of the agreement at this URL:
http://www.tibet.freeserve.co.uk/beijing.html. 14DL was supposedly very
bummed out about this agreement, but he never repudiated it in a timely
fashion.
But from 14DL's viewpoint, it was probably the right move. Lhasa was
crawling with war profiteers who were making lots of money selling
supplies to the Chinese garrison. The people he sent to negotiate with
China came back to Lhasa, having given away the country. His prior
incarnations had been murdered by their handlers, and the 13DL kept
alive by staying on the move.
Tibet had already been taken over by evildoers. The Chinese were like
the buzzards, tearing apart the corpse. 14DL now hopes to build the
Tibet that never existed -- one founded on equality and fairness --
something more Jeffersonian, like 9DL might've had in mind, if he
hadn't died at age 11.
So what's the box score? We start with 14 Dalai Lamas:
1DL didn't even know he was one.
2DL didn't know it either.
3DL was some kind of clever opportunist.
4DL was a royal appointee.
5DL was a killer-conqueror, and his last fifteen years of "rule" were
fraudulent.
6DL was murdered at the age of 23, and his appointed successor was
denied office.
7DL was put on the throne by the Chinese, who treated him as a
figurehead.
8DL was a hands-off guy who let the Chinese run the country.
9DL was murdered and never ruled.
10DL was murdered and never ruled.
11DL was murdered and never ruled.
12DL was murdered and never ruled.
13DL fled twice, which isn't a sign of great political support, but
nominally ran the country.
14DL effectively abdicated, and never ruled the country. As a leader in
exile, he is a figurehead for armies of monastics who take refuge in
his popularity to pump their own organizations.
In the end, the illustrious history of the Dalai Lamas just doesn't
exist. Their sad legacy is a testament to the byzantine manipulations
of the Potala Junta. The credulous Tibetan people have been taught that
they are led by a god-king, but that king is an invention of
unscrupulous political strategists who sell influence as their primary
product. If indeed, the rascals who manipulated the lives of these 14
individuals as the figureheads of their corrupt theocracy have indeed
reincarnated into this age, we are all unfortunate that they haven't
fallen into the hells they so eagerly imagine for others. They had a
corrupting influence on the life of Tibet, and on the lives of the 14
Dalai Lamas they manipulated. We have enough corruption, and don't need
to be importing it from past eras."
Geir
above) no doubt about it. I don't see anyone saying this anywhere in
the world and giving it this spin that takes it far above and beyond
the flattery and herd-mentality that's seen in all Buddhist circles.
This is good because Carreon takes our thinking into spheres far from
the kow towing and blind faith that is current in Buddhist circles and
which, as for that, goes so against the grain of Buddhism's real faith
that is not to treat people like gods, as the Dalai Lama and all kinds
of others are done. Just look at the flattery and veneration dealt out
to politicals bums in the West that are - once elected - treated as
gods too.
Now, I'd remark to Carreon that it's representatives (the Dalais) being
murdered, doesn't necessarily mark the rot of an institution. In
Western political history, the kings of say France, had a checkered
history of deceit, killing and evincing each other, that is not
different from that of Tibet. That Tibet avoided national-level wars
during this time is a tribute to it's Buddhist nature and the Dalai
Lamas may well have been the sacrificial lambs offered up to settle
differences. And thus avoid blood-shed outside, but that's another
story in itself.... The Dalais heralded a long period of spreading and
cultivating Buddhism in a grandiose fashion that's unique in history -
all the more so as it was also basically Tantric Buddhism - which is
properly rare.
But Carreon's approach is unique in that it puts things in perspective;
a perspective which the blind-cultish following of Tibetan Buddhism has
incredibly blotted out of peoples' thinking. In Tibet, critique of
other sects was (as he shows), much more active and forthcoming than
what one now sees in the West. The only critique that seems to be
appearing nowadays, - apart from people like Charles -, comes from
people in India that perpetuate the hard-core critique of the
institutions, from the inside, and don't hold back in such, at all.
Here's more of the insider view of the rot of Tibetan systems as
Carreon collects and collates on his site (one should not detract
though from an equalizing view that sees that corruption is just as
rife in the West or anywhere where the scandals behind the Wategate or
the critique of Clinton on falsely virtuous...but false grounds, is
just the same slandering lies that dominate Tibetan politics today as
before. All in all, it's unquestionable that Tibetan politics and
ruling systems - were not modern and not in holding with the traditions
of today, in our time and age, any more.) :
(The downfall of things Tibetan in their old form and the need to renew
that under a renovated Kalachakra form, is predicted in the Kalachakra
Tantra. Is this the heralding of it ? The wholesale deconstruction of
Buddhism here seems to point to nothing surviving the critique that is
announces here in this :)
"THE SHADOW OF THE DALAI LAMA: SEXUALITY, MAGIC AND POLITICS IN
TIBETAN BUDDHISM
© by Victor and Victoria Trimondi
An Interview with Victor and Victoria Trimondi, by James C. Stephens
Hitler, Buddha, Krishna -- An Unholy Alliance From the Third Reich to
the Present Day, by Victor and Victoria Trimondi (Two Book Reviews)
Thanks From a Grateful Nation -- Awarding the Cross of Secret
Achievement to the Dalai Lama
The CIA's Secret War in Tibet
CIA Clown
Table of Contents:
Biographies of Victor and Victoria Trimondi
Introduction: Light and Shadow
Plato's Cave
Realpolitik and politics of symbolsy
Part I -- Ritual as Politics:
Buddhism and Misogyny (historical overview)
Tantric Buddhism
The "Tantric Female Sacrifice"
The Law of Inversion
Pure Shaktism and Tantric Feminism, and Alchemy
Kalachakra: The Public and the Secret Initiations
Kalachakra: The Inner Processes
The ADI Buddha: His Mystic body and His Astral Aspects
The ADI Buddha: The Mandala Principle and the World Ruler
The Aggressive Myth of Shambhala
The Manipulator of Erotic Love
Epilogue to Part 1
Part II -- Ritual as Politics:
Introduction: Politics as Ritual
The Dalai Lama: Incarnation of the Tibetan Gods
The Dalai Lama (Avalokitesvara) and the Demoness (Srinmo)
The Foundations of Tibetan Buddhocracy
Social Reality in Ancient Tibet
Buddhocracy and Anarchy -- Contradictory or Complementary?
Regicide or Lamaism's Myth of Origin and the Ritual Sacrifice of Tibet
The War of the Oracle Gods and the Shugden Affair
Magic as a Political Instrument
The War Gods behind the Mask of Peace
The Spearhead of the Shambhala War: The Mongols
The Shambhala Myth and the West
Fascist Occultism and its Close Relationship to Buddhist Tantrism
The Japanese Doomsday Guru Shoko Asahara and XIV Dalai Lama
China's Metaphysical Rivalry with Tibet
The Buddhocratic Conquest of the West
Tactics, Strategies, Forgeries, Illusions
Conclusion
Postscript: Creative Polarity beyond Tantrism
References
Annex: Critical Forum Kalachakra Tantra
Glossary
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Introduction: Light and Shadow
For centuries after Buddha had died,
his shadow was still visible in a cave
a dreadful, spine-chilling shadow.
God is dead: but man being the way
he is for centuries to come there
will be caves in which his shadow is shown
and we, we must also triumph over his shadow.
Friedrich Nietzsche
The practice and philosophy of Buddhism has spread so rapidly
throughout the Western world in the past 30 years and has so often been
a topic in the media that by now anybody who is interested in cultural
affairs has formed some sort of concept of Buddhism. In the
conventional “Western” notion of Buddhism, the teachings of Buddha
Gautama are regarded as a positive Eastern countermodel to the decadent
civilization and culture of the West: where the Western world has
introduced war and exploitation into world history, Buddhism stands for
peace and freedom; whilst Western rationalism is destructive of life
and the environment, the Eastern teachings of wisdom preserve and
safeguard them. The meditation, compassion, composure, understanding,
nonviolence, modesty, and spirituality of Asia stand in contrast to the
actionism, egomania, unrest, indoctrination, violence, arrogance, and
materialism of Europe and North America. Ex oriente lux—“light comes
from the East”; in occidente nox—“darkness prevails in the West”.
We regard this juxtaposition of the Eastern and Western hemispheres as
not just the “business” of naive believers and zealous Tibetan lamas.
On the contrary, this comparison of values has become distributed among
Western intelligentsia as a popular philosophical speculation in which
they flirt with their own demise.
But the cream of Hollywood also gladly and openly confess their
allegiance to the teachings of Buddhism (or what they understand these
to be), especially when these come from the mouths of Tibetan lamas.
“Tibet is looming larger than ever on the show business map,” the
Herald Tribune wrote in 1997. “Tibet is going to enter the Western
popular culture as something can only when Hollywood does the
entertainment injection into the world system. Let’s remember that
Hollywood is the most powerful force in the world, besides the US
military” (Herald Tribune, March 20, 1997, pp. 1, 6). Orville Shell,
who is working on a book on Tibet and the West, sees the Dalai Lama’s
“Hollywood connection” as a substitute for the non-existent diplomatic
corps that could represent the interests of the exiled Tibetan
hierarch: “Since he [the Dalai Lama] doesn’t have embassies, and he has
no political power, he has to seek other kinds. Hollywood is a kind of
country in his own, and he’s established a kind of embassy there”
(Newsweek, May 19, 1997, p. 24).
In Buddhism more and more show-business celebrities believe they have
discovered a message of salvation that can at last bring the world
peace and tranquility. In connection with his most recent film about
the young Dalai Lama (Kundun), the director Martin Scorsese, more known
for the violence of his films, emotionally declared: “Violence is not
the answer, it doesn’t work any more. We are at the end of the worst
century in which the greatest atrocities in the history of the world
have occurred ... The nature of human beings must change. We must
cultivate love and compassion” (Focus 46/1997, p. 168; retranslation).
The karate hero Steven Segal, who believes himself to be the
reincarnation of a Tibetan lama, tells us, “I have been a Buddhist for
twenty years and since then have lived in harmony with myself and the
world” (Bunte, November 6, 1997, p. 24; retranslation). For actor
Richard Gere, one of the closest Western confidants of the Dalai Lama,
the “fine irony of Buddhism, which signifies the only way to true
happiness, is our own pleasure to offer to each and all” (Bunte,
November 6, 1997, p. 25;retranslation). Helmut Thoma, former head of
the private German television company RTL, is no less positive about
this Eastern religion: “Buddhists treat each other in a friendly,
well-meaning and compassionate way. They see no difference between
their own suffering and that of others. I admire that” (Bunte, November
6, 1997, p. 24). Actress Christine Kaufmann has also enthused, “In
Buddhism the maxim is: enjoy the phases of happiness for these are
transitory” (Bunte, November 6, 1997, p. 21). Sharon Stone, Uma
Thurman, Tina Turner, Patty Smith, Meg Ryan, Doris Dörrie, and Shirley
MacLaine are just some of the film stars and singers who follow the
teachings of Buddha Gautama.
The press is no less euphoric. The German magazine Bunte has praised
the teachings from the East as the “ideal religion of our day”:
Buddhism has no moral teachings, enjoins us to happiness, supports
winners, has in contrast to other religions an unblemished past ("no
skeletons in the closet”), worships nature as a cathedral, makes women
beautiful, promotes sensuousness, promises eternal youth, creates
paradise on earth, reduces stress and body weight (Bunte, November 6,
1997, pp. 20ff.).
What has already become the myth of the “Buddhization of the West” is
the work of many. Monks, scholars, enthusiastic followers, generous
sponsors, occultists, hippies, and all sorts of “Eastern trippers” have
worked on it. But towering above them all, just as the Himalayas
surpass all other peaks on the planet, is His Holiness Tenzin Gyatso
the Fourteenth Dalai Lama. Timeless, gigantic, respectful, tolerant,
patient, modest, simple, full of humor, warm, gentle, lithe, earthy,
harmonious, transparent, pure, and always smiling and laughing — this
is how the Kundun (the Tibetan word means “presence” or “living
Buddha”) is now known to all. There is no positive human characteristic
which has not at one time or another been applied to the Dalai Lama.
For many of the planet’s inhabitants, even if they are non-Buddhists,
he represents the most respectable living individual of our epoch.
Many believe they have discovered in the straightforward personality of
this Buddhist monk all the rare qualities of a gracious and trustworthy
character that we seek in vain among our Western politicians and church
leaders. In a world full of evil, materialism, and corruption he
represents goodwill, the realm of the spirit, and the lotus blossom of
purity; amidst the maelstrom of trivialities and confusion he stands
for meaning, calm, and stability; in the competitive struggle of modern
capitalism and in an age where reports of catastrophes are constant he
is the guarantor of justice and a clear and unshaken will; from the
thick of the battle of cultures and peoples he emerges as the apostle
of peace; amidst a global outbreak of religious fanaticism he preaches
tolerance and nonviolence.
His followers worship him as a deity, a “living Buddha” (Kundun), and
call him their “divine king”. Not even the Catholic popes or medieval
emperors ever claimed such a high spiritual position — they continued
to bow down before the “Lord of Lords” (God) as his supreme servants.
The Dalai Lama, however –according to Tibetan doctrine at least —
himself appears and acts as the “Highest”. In him is revealed the
mystic figure of ADI BUDDHA (the Supreme Buddha); he is a religious
ideal in flesh and blood. In some circles, enormous hopes are placed in
the Kundun as the new Redeemer himself. Not just Tibetans and
Mongolians, many Taiwan Chinese and Westerners also see him as a
latter-day Messiah. [1]
However human the monk from Dharamsala (India) may appear, his person
is surrounded by the most occult speculations. Many who have met him
believe they have encountered the supernatural. In the case of the
“divine king” who has descended to mankind from the roof of the world,
that which was denied Moses—namely, to glimpse the countenance of God
(Yahweh)—has become possible for pious Buddhists; and unlike Yahweh
this countenance shows no wrath, but smiles graciously and warmly
instead.
The esoteric pathos in the characterization of the Dalai Lama has long
since transcended the boundaries of Buddhist insider groups. It is the
famous show business personalities and even articles in the
“respectable” Western press who now express the mystic flair of the
Kundun in weighty exclamations: “The fascination is the search for the
third eye”, Melissa Mathison, scriptwriter for Martin Scorsese’s film,
Kundun, writes in the Herald Tribune. “Americans are hoping for some
sort of magical door into the mystical, thinking that there’s some
mysterious reason for things, a cosmic explanation. Tibet offers the
most extravagant expression of the mystical, and when people meet His
Holiness, you can see on their faces that they’re hoping to get this
hit that will transcend their lives, take them someplace else” (Herald
Tribune, March 20, 1997).
Nevertheless — and this is another magical fairytale — the divine
king’s omnipotent role combines well with the monastic modesty and
simplicity he exhibits. It is precisely this fascinating combination of
the supreme (“divine king”) and the almighty with the lowliest
(“mendicant”) and weakest that makes the Dalai Lama so appealing for
many — clear, understandable words, a gracious smile, a simple robe,
plain sandals, and behind all this the omnipotence of the divine. With
his constantly repeated statement — “I ... see myself first as a man
and a Tibetan who has made the decision to become a Buddhist monk” —
His Holiness has conquered the hearts of the West (Dalai Lama XIV,
1993a, p. 7). We can believe in such a person, we can find refuge in
him, from him we learn about the wisdom of life and death. [2]
A similar reverse effect is found in another of the Kundun’s favorite
sayings, that the institution of the Dalai Lama could become
superfluous in the future. “Perhaps it would really be good if I were
the last!” (Levenson, 1990, p. 366). Such admissions of his own
superfluity bring tears to people’s eyes and are only surpassed by the
prognosis of the “divine king” that in his next life he will probably
be reincarnated as an insect in order to help this lower form of life
as an “insect messiah”. In the wake of such heartrending prophecies
no-one would wish for anything more than that the institution of the
Dalai Lama might last for ever.
The political impotence of the country the hierarch had to flee has a
similarly powerful and disturbing effect. The image of the innocent,
peaceful, spiritual, defenseless, and tiny Tibet, suppressed and
humiliated by the merciless, inhumane, and materialistic Chinese giant
has elevated the “Land of Snows” and its monastic king to the status of
a worldwide symbol of “pacifist resistance”. The more Tibet and its
“ecclesiastical king” are threatened, the more his spiritual authority
increases and the more the Kundun becomes an international moral
authority. He has succeeded in the impossible task of drawing strength
from his weakness.
The numerous speeches of the Fourteenth Dalai Lama, his interviews,
statements, writings, biographies, books, and his countless
introductions and forewords to the texts of others deal almost
exclusively with topics like compassion, kindness, sincerity, love,
nonviolence, human rights, ecological visions, professions of
democracy, religious tolerance, inner and outer spirituality, the
blessings of science, world peace, and so on. It would take a true
villain to not agree totally with what he has said and written.
Training consciousness, achieving spiritual peace, cultivating inner
contentment, fostering satisfaction, practicing awareness, eliminating
egoism, helping others — what responsible person could fail to identify
with this? Who doesn’t long for flawless love, clear intellect,
generosity, and enlightenment?
Within Western civilization, the Dalai Lama appears as the purest
light. He represents — according to former President Jimmy Carter — a
new type of world leader, who has placed the principles of peace and
compassion at the center of his politics, and who, with his kind and
winning nature, has shown us all how the hardest blows of fate can be
borne with perseverance and patience. By now he symbolizes human
dignity and global responsibility for millions. Up until very recently
hardly anyone, with the exception of his archenemies, the Chinese
communists, has dared to criticize this impotent/omnipotent luminary.
But then, out of the blue in 1996, dark clouds began to gather over the
bright aura of the “living Buddha”.
Charges, accusations, suspicions and incriminations began to appear in
the media. At first on the Internet, then in isolated press reports,
and finally in television programs (see Panorama on ARD [Germany],
November 20, 1997 and 10 vor 10 on SF1 [Switzerland], January 5-8,
1998). At the same time as the Hollywood stars were erecting a media
altar for their Tibetan god, the public attacks on the Dalai Lama were
becoming more frequent. Even for a mundane politician the catalogue of
accusations would have been embarrassing, but for a divine king they
were horrendous. And on this occasion the attacks came not from the
Chinese camp but from within his own ranks.
The following serious charges are leveled in an open letter to the
Kundun supposedly written by Tibetans in exile which criticizes the
“despotism” of the hierarch: “The cause [of the despotism] is the
invisible disease which is still there and which develops immediately
if met with various conditions. And what is this disease? It is your
clinging to your own power. It is a fact that even at that time if
someone would have used democracy on you, you would not have been able
to accept it. ... Your Holiness, you wish to be a great leader, but you
do not know that in order to fulfill the wish, a ‘political Bodhisattva
vow’ is required. So you entered instead the wrong ‘political path of
accumulation’ (tsog lam) and that has lead you on a continuously wrong
path. You believed that in order to be a greater leader you had to
secure your own position first of all, and whenever any opposition
against you arose you had to defend yourself, and this has become
contagious. ... Moreover, to challenge lamas you have used religion for
your own aim. To that purpose you had to develop the Tibetan people’s
blind faith. ... For instance, you started the politics of public
Kalachakra initiations. [3] Normally the Kalachakra initiation is not
given in public. Then you started to use it continuously in a big way
for your politics. The result is that now the Tibetan people have
returned to exactly the same muddy and dirty mixing of politics and
religion of lamas which you yourself had so precisely criticized in
earlier times. ... You have made the Tibetans into donkeys. You can
force them to go here and there as you like. In your words you always
say that you want to be Ghandi but in your action you are like a
religious fundamentalist who uses religious faith for political
purposes. Your image is the Dalai Lama, your mouth is Mahatma Ghandi
and your heart is like that of a religious dictator. You are a deceiver
and it is very sad that on the top of the suffering that they already
have the Tibetan people have a leader like you. Tibetans have become
fanatics. They say that the Dalai Lama is more important than the
principle of Tibet. ... Please, if you feel like being like Gandhi, do
not turn the Tibetan situation in the church dominated style of 17th
century Europe” (Sam, May 27, 1997 - Newsgroup 16).
The list of accusations goes on and on. Here we present some of the
charges raised against the Kundun since 1997 which we treat in more
detail in this study: association with the Japanese “poison gas guru”
Shoko Asahara (the “Asahara affair”); violent suppression of the free
expression of religion within his own ranks (the “Shugden affair”); the
splitting of the other Buddhist sects (the “Karmapa affair”); frequent
sexual abuse of women by Tibetan lamas (“Sogyal Rinpoche and June
Campbell affairs”); intolerance towards homosexuals; involvement in a
ritual murder (the events of February 4, 1997); links to National
Socialism (the “Heinrich Harrer affair”); nepotism (the “Yabshi
affair”); selling out his own country to the Chinese (renunciation of
Tibetan sovereignty); political lies; rewriting history; and much more.
Overnight the god has become a demon. [4]
And all of a sudden Westerners are beginning to ask themselves whether
the king of light from the Himalayas might not have a monstrous shadow.
What we mean by the Dalai Lama’s “shadow” is the possibility of a dark,
murky, and “dirty” side to both his personality and politicoreligious
office in contrast to the pure and brilliant figure he cuts as the
“greatest living hero of peace in our century” in the captivated
awareness of millions.
For most people who have come to know him personally or via the media,
such nocturnal dimensions to His Holiness are unimaginable. The
possibility would not even occur to them, since the Kundun has grasped
how to effectively conceal the threatening and demonic aspects of
Tibetan Buddhism and the many dark chapters in the history of Tibet. Up
until 1996 he had succeeded –the poorly grounded Chinese critique aside
— in playing the shining hero on the world stage.
Plato’s cave
The shadow is the “other side” of a person, his “hidden face”, the
shadows are his “occult depths”. Psychoanalysis teaches us that there
are four ways of dealing with our shadow: we can deny it, suppress it,
project it onto other people, or integrate it.
But the topic of the shadow does not just have a psychological
dimension; ever since Plato’s famous analogy of the cave it has become
one of the favorite motifs of Western philosophy. In his Politeia (The
State), Plato tells of an “unenlightened” people who inhabit a cave
with their backs to the entrance. Outside shines the light of eternal
and true reality, but as the people have turned their backs to it, all
they see are the shadows of reality which flit sketchily across the
walls of the cave before their eyes. Their human attentiveness is
magically captivated by this shadowy world and they thus perceive only
dreams and illusions, never higher reality itself. Should a cave
dweller one day manage to escape this dusky dwelling, he would
recognize that he had been living in a world of illusions.
This parable was adapted by Friedrich Nietzsche in Aphorism 108 of his
Fröhliche Wissenschaft [The Gay Science] and — of interest here —
linked to the figure of Buddha: “For centuries after Buddha had died,”
Nietzsche wrote, “his shadow was still visible in a cave — a dreadful,
spine-chilling shadow. God is dead: but man being the way he is, for
centuries to come there will be caves in which his shadow is shown —
and we — we must also triumph over his shadow”. [5]
This aphorism encourages us to speculate about the Dalai Lama. He is,
after all, worshipped as “God” or as a “living Buddha” (Kundun), as a
supreme enlightened being. But, we could argue with Nietzsche, the true
Buddha (“God”) is dead. Does this make the figure of the Dalai Lama
nothing but a shadow? Are pseudo-dogmas, pseudo-rituals, and
pseudo-mysteries all that remain of the original Buddhism? Did the
historical Buddha Shakyamuni leave us with his “dreadful shadow” (the
Dalai Lama) and have we been challenged to liberate ourselves from him?
However, we could also speculate as to whether people perceive only the
Dalai Lama’s silhouette since they still live in the cave of an
unenlightened consciousness. If they were to leave this world of
illusion, they might experience the Kundun as the supreme luminary and
Supreme Buddha (ADI BUDDHA).
In our study of the Dalai Lama we offer concrete answers to these and
similar metaphysical questions. To do this, however, we must lead our
readers into (Nietzsche’s) cave, where the “dreadful shadow” of the
Kundun (a “living Buddha”) appears on the wall. Up until now this cave
has been closed to the public and could not be entered by the
uninitiated.
Incidentally, every Tibetan temple possesses such an eerie room of
shadows. Beside the various sacred chambers in which smiling Buddha
statues emit peace and composure there are secret rooms known as
gokhangs which can only be entered by a chosen few. In the dim light of
flickering, half-drowned butter lamps, surrounded by rusty weapons,
stuffed animals, and mummified body parts, the Tibetan terror gods
reside in the gokhang. Here, the inhabitants of a violent and monstrous
realm of darkness are assembled. In a figurative sense the gokhang
symbolizes the dark ritualism of Lamaism and Tibet’s hidden history of
violence. In order to truly get to know the Dalai Lama (the “living
Buddha”) we must first descend into the “cave” (the gokhang) and there
conduct a speleology of his religion.
“Realpolitik” and the “Politics of Symbols”
Our study is divided into two parts. The first contain a depiction and
critique of the religious foundations of Tibetan (“Tantric”) Buddhism
and is entitled Ritual as Politics. The second part (Politics as
Ritual) examines the power politics of the Kundun (Dalai Lama) and its
historical preconditions. The relationship between political power and
religion is thus central to our book.
In ancient societies (like that of Tibet), everything that happens in
the everyday world — from acts of nature to major political events to
quotidian occurrences — is the expression of transcendent powers and
forces working behind the scenes. Mortals do not determine their own
fates; rather they are instruments in the hands of “gods” and “demons”.
If we wish to gain any understanding at all of the Dalai Lama’s
“secular” politics, it must be derived from this atavistic perspective
which permeates the traditional cultural legacy of Tibetan Buddhism.
For the mysteries that he administers (in which the “gods” make their
appearances) form the foundations of his political vision and decision
making. State and religion, ritual and politics are inseparable for
him.
What, however, distinguishes a “politics of symbols” from
“realpolitik”? Both are concerned with power, but the methods for
achieving and maintaining power differ. In realpolitik we are dealing
with facts that are both caused and manipulated by people. Here the
protagonists are politicians, generals, CEOs, leaders of opinion,
cultural luminaries, etc. The methods through which power is exercised
include force, war, revolution, legal systems, money, rhetoric,
propaganda, public discussions, and bribery.
In the symbolic political world, however, we encounter “supernatural”
energy fields, the “gods” and “demons”. The secular protagonists in
events are still human beings such as ecclesiastical dignitaries,
priests, magicians, gurus, yogis, and shamans. But they all see
themselves as servants of some type of superior divine will, or,
transcending their humanity they themselves become “gods”, as in the
case of the Dalai Lama. His exercise of power thus not only involves
worldly techniques but also the manipulation of symbols in rituals and
magic. For him, symbolic images and ritual acts are not simply signs or
aesthetic acts but rather instruments with which to activate the gods
and to influence people’s awareness. His political reality is
determined by a “metaphysical detour” via the mysteries. [6]
This interweaving of historical and symbolic events leads to the
seemingly fantastic metapolitics of the Tibetans. Lamaism believes it
can influence the course of history not just in Tibet but for the
entire planet through its system of rituals and invocations, through
magic practices and concentration exercises. The result is an atavistic
mix of magic and politics. Rather than being determined by parliament
and the Tibetan government in exile, political decisions are made by
oracles and the supernatural beings acting through them. It is no
longer parties with differing programs and leaders who face off in the
political arena, but rather distinct and antagonistic oracle gods.
Above all it is in the individual of the Dalai Lama that the entire
worldly and spiritual/magic potential of the Tibetan world view is
concentrated. According to tradition he is a sacred king. All his
deeds, however much they are perceived in terms of practical politics
by his surroundings, are thus profoundly linked to the Tibetan
mysteries.
The latter have always been shrouded in secrecy. The uninitiated have
no right to participate or learn about them. Nevertheless, in recent
years much information about the Tibetan cults (recorded in the
so-called tantra texts and their commentaries) has been published and
translated into European languages. The world that opens itself here to
Western awareness appears equally fantastic and fascinating. This world
is a combination of theatrical pomp, medieval magic, sacred sexuality,
relentless asceticism, supreme deification and the basest abuse of
women, murderous crimes, maximum ethical demands, the appearance of
gods and demons, mystical ecstasy, and cold hard logic all in one
powerful, paradoxical performance.
Note on the cited literature:
The original documents which we cite are without exception
European-language translations from Sanskrit, Tibetan or Chinese, or
are drawn from Western sources. By now, so many relevant texts have
been translated that they provide an adequate scholarly basis for a
culturally critical examination of Tibetan Buddhism without the need to
refer to documents in the original language. For our study , the
Kalachakra Tantra is central. This has not been translated in its
entirety, aside from an extremely problematical handwritten manuscript
by the German Tibetoligist, Albert Grünwedel, which can be found in the
Bavarian State Library in Munich. Important parts of the Sri Kalachakra
have been translated into English by John Roland Newman, along with a
famous commentary on these parts by Pundarika known as the
Vimalaphraba. (John Ronald Newman - The outer wheel of time: Vajrayana
buddhist cosmology in the Kalacakra Tantra – Vimalaprabhā -
nāmamūlatantrānusāriņī-dvādaśasāhasrikālagukālacakratantrarājaţīkā
) Madison 1987)
The Sri Kalachakra (Laghukalachakratantra) is supposed to be the
abridgement of a far more comprehensive original text by the name of
Sekoddesha. The complete text has been lost — but some important
passages from it have been preserved and have been commented upon by
the renowned scholar Naropa (10th century). An Italian translation of
the commentary by Ranieri Gnoli and Giacomella Orofino is available.
Further to this, we have studied every other work on the Kalachakra
Tantra which we have been able to find in a Western language. We were
thus in a position to be able to adequately reconstruct the contents of
the “Time Tantra” from the numerous translated commentaries and sources
for a cultural historical (and not a philological) assessment of the
tantra. This extensive literature is listed at the end of the book. In
order to make the intentions and methods of this religious system
comprehensible for a Western audience, a comparison with other tantras
and with parallels in European culture is of greater importance than a
meticulous linguistic knowledge of every line in the Sanskrit or
Tibetan original.
In the interests of readability, we have transliterated Tibetan and
Sanskrit names without diacritical marks and in this have primarily
oriented ourselves to Anglo-Saxon usages.
Footnotes:
[1] In the opinion of the Tibet researcher, Peter Bishop, the head of
the Lamaist “church” satisfies a “reawakened appreciation of the Divine
Father” for many people from the West (Bishop 1993, p. 130). For
Bishop, His Holiness stands out as a fatherly savior figure against the
insecurities and fears produced by modern society, against the
criticisms leveled at monotheistic religions, and against the rubble of
the decline of the European system of values.
[2] Through this contradictory effect the Dalai Lama is able to
strengthen his superhuman stature with the most banal of words and
deeds. Many of His Holiness’s Western visitors, for example, are amazed
after an audience that a “god-king” constantly rubs his nose and
scratches his head “like an ape”. Yet, writes the Tibet researcher
Christiaan Klieger, “such expressions of the body natural do not
detract from the status of the Dalai Lama – far from it, as it adds to
his personal charisma. It maintains that incongruous image of a divine
form in a human body” (Klieger 1991, p 79).
[3] The Kalachakra initiations are the most significant rituals which
the Dalai Lama conducts, partly in public and in part in secret. By now
the public events take place in the presence of hundreds of thousands.
Analyses and interpretations of the Kalachakra initiations lie at the
center of the current study.
[4] Up until 1996 the West needed to be divided into two factions —
with the eloquent advocates of Tibetan Buddhism on the one hand, and
those who were completely ignorant of the issue and remained silent on
the other. In contrast, modern or “postmodern” cultural criticisms of
the Buddhist teachings and critical examinations of the Tibetan clergy
and the Tibetan state structure were extremely rare (completely the
opposite of the case of the literature which addresses the Pope and the
Catholic Church). Noncommitted and unfalsified analyses and
interpretations of Buddhist or Tibetan history, in brief open and
truth-seeking confrontations with the shady side of the “true faith”
and its history, have to be sought out like needles in a haystack of
ideological glorifications and deliberately constructed myths of
history. For this reason those who attempted to discover and reveal the
hidden background have had to battle to swim against a massive current
of resistance based on pre-formed opinions and deliberate manipulation.
This situation has changed in the period since 1996.
[5] The fact that Nietzsche’s aphorism about the shadow is number 108
offers numerologists fertile grounds for occult speculation, as 108 is
one of the most significant holy numbers in Tibetan Buddhism. Given the
status of knowledge about Tibet at the time, it is hardly likely that
Nietzsche chose this number deliberately.
[6] There is nonetheless an occult correlation between “symbolic and
ritual politics” and real political events. Thus the Tibetan lamas
believe they are justified in subsuming the pre-existing social reality
(including that of the West) into their magical world view and
subjecting it to their “irrational” methods. With a for a contemporary
awareness audacious seeming thought construction, they see in the
processes of world history not just the work of politicians, the
military, and business leaders, but declare these to be the lackeys of
divine or demonic power."
Geir
Geir : One should be careful in critcizing the Dalai Lama, because he
is considered rightly to be Tchenrezig, Avalokitsvara, the God of
Compassion for the billion and and a half Buddhists worldwide. But
where the Trimondis are right, is in that the god-worship around him
and around people in geenral here on earth is not right. So, what
remains behind all this fury is what ones' deeds have been and what
karma one thus has gathered and has to account for. The events around
the exile, the demise of Tibet, and the future are thus events to be
taken into account and to be judged for their real value and this is
what a lot of the research by the Trimondis is useful to achieve. The
Western analysis of backwardness or primitiveness of Tibetan Tantric
Buddhism is unfounded and Tantric Tibetan Buddhism is without contest,
the most beautiful tradition and dogma of the world. I don't think
their analysis of Tantric Buddhism is correct because they would have
ahd to practise it to be able to give the analysis that would have been
objective and unbiased. To further this critique of the Western and
modern culture I'd say that it is backward, archaic and primtive
because it is now proven (Chemo Sarmiento's film "Apocalypse and End of
Times") that both Modern Science, Communism, and the various other
religioous traditions in the world, all bear the unvanishing mark of
Milleniarism on them. This creed is an utterly silly belief in a
thousand-year reign of bliss before the Coming of the Messiah that
sprouted up in the mind of the main founder of Millenarism, Joachim de
Flores, in the 12th cent. Modernity can thus not claim any right to
rightness, but rather, nothing more than continuing inscrutable
nonsense instead.
What does remain is the examining of the rights and wrongs of
Buddhism's conquest of the West and the grave disfunctions there. In
this respect, I follow Carreon's approach more than the Trimondis',
which is to say that the Dalai Lama is just the actor of groups of
people surrounding his function, and which he is a pawn within the game
of. In the present time, I think a massive clean-up is in order, but
that in such a clean-up all the actors of it are to be brought to task.
That entails what the Carreons have done, ...which is to make lists of
the worst fraudulent abuses/ors. I thus see the trimondis as part of
that list-making process and their testimonies and research to be
examined in that respect. Thanks to all for reviewing this patiently,
and for further watching out for the rest coming shortly which will
take us into the fraud-territory of the entourage of the Dalai Lama,
the drug-drenched Trungpa entourage, and all the rest of the drudge.
I'd prefer doing something else than delve into this mess, but someone
has to do the job, and the whole of Tibetan Tantric Buddhism has to be
cleaned up. Kalachakra has to be revealed and that won't happen until
the mess of Tibetans has be cleared away, as the prediction is that
it'll be Westerners who will bring it to the rest of the world apart
from Tibet. So, that needs to be done once this whole fraud has been
unmasked. Thanks to all reading here. I was wondering : how many people
are reading this ?
Geir a écrit :
> ? by Victor and Victoria Trimondi
> conventional ?Western? notion of Buddhism, the teachings of Buddha
> Gautama are regarded as a positive Eastern countermodel to the decadent
> civilization and culture of the West: where the Western world has
> introduced war and exploitation into world history, Buddhism stands for
> peace and freedom; whilst Western rationalism is destructive of life
> and the environment, the Eastern teachings of wisdom preserve and
> safeguard them. The meditation, compassion, composure, understanding,
> nonviolence, modesty, and spirituality of Asia stand in contrast to the
> actionism, egomania, unrest, indoctrination, violence, arrogance, and
> materialism of Europe and North America. Ex oriente lux??light comes
> from the East?; in occidente nox??darkness prevails in the West?.
>
> We regard this juxtaposition of the Eastern and Western hemispheres as
> not just the ?business? of naive believers and zealous Tibetan lamas.
> On the contrary, this comparison of values has become distributed among
> Western intelligentsia as a popular philosophical speculation in which
> they flirt with their own demise.
>
> But the cream of Hollywood also gladly and openly confess their
> allegiance to the teachings of Buddhism (or what they understand these
> to be), especially when these come from the mouths of Tibetan lamas.
> ?Tibet is looming larger than ever on the show business map,? the
> Herald Tribune wrote in 1997. ?Tibet is going to enter the Western
> popular culture as something can only when Hollywood does the
> entertainment injection into the world system. Let?s remember that
> Hollywood is the most powerful force in the world, besides the US
> military? (Herald Tribune, March 20, 1997, pp. 1, 6). Orville Shell,
> who is working on a book on Tibet and the West, sees the Dalai Lama?s
> ?Hollywood connection? as a substitute for the non-existent diplomatic
> corps that could represent the interests of the exiled Tibetan
> hierarch: ?Since he [the Dalai Lama] doesn?t have embassies, and he has
> no political power, he has to seek other kinds. Hollywood is a kind of
> country in his own, and he?s established a kind of embassy there?
> (Newsweek, May 19, 1997, p. 24).
>
> In Buddhism more and more show-business celebrities believe they have
> discovered a message of salvation that can at last bring the world
> peace and tranquility. In connection with his most recent film about
> the young Dalai Lama (Kundun), the director Martin Scorsese, more known
> for the violence of his films, emotionally declared: ?Violence is not
> the answer, it doesn?t work any more. We are at the end of the worst
> century in which the greatest atrocities in the history of the world
> have occurred ... The nature of human beings must change. We must
> cultivate love and compassion? (Focus 46/1997, p. 168; retranslation).
> The karate hero Steven Segal, who believes himself to be the
> reincarnation of a Tibetan lama, tells us, ?I have been a Buddhist for
> twenty years and since then have lived in harmony with myself and the
> world? (Bunte, November 6, 1997, p. 24; retranslation). For actor
> Richard Gere, one of the closest Western confidants of the Dalai Lama,
> the ?fine irony of Buddhism, which signifies the only way to true
> happiness, is our own pleasure to offer to each and all? (Bunte,
> November 6, 1997, p. 25;retranslation). Helmut Thoma, former head of
> the private German television company RTL, is no less positive about
> this Eastern religion: ?Buddhists treat each other in a friendly,
> well-meaning and compassionate way. They see no difference between
> their own suffering and that of others. I admire that? (Bunte, November
> 6, 1997, p. 24). Actress Christine Kaufmann has also enthused, ?In
> Buddhism the maxim is: enjoy the phases of happiness for these are
> transitory? (Bunte, November 6, 1997, p. 21). Sharon Stone, Uma
> Thurman, Tina Turner, Patty Smith, Meg Ryan, Doris D?e, and Shirley
> MacLaine are just some of the film stars and singers who follow the
> teachings of Buddha Gautama.
>
> The press is no less euphoric. The German magazine Bunte has praised
> the teachings from the East as the ?ideal religion of our day?:
> Buddhism has no moral teachings, enjoins us to happiness, supports
> winners, has in contrast to other religions an unblemished past ("no
> skeletons in the closet?), worships nature as a cathedral, makes women
> beautiful, promotes sensuousness, promises eternal youth, creates
> paradise on earth, reduces stress and body weight (Bunte, November 6,
> 1997, pp. 20ff.).
>
> What has already become the myth of the ?Buddhization of the West? is
> the work of many. Monks, scholars, enthusiastic followers, generous
> sponsors, occultists, hippies, and all sorts of ?Eastern trippers? have
> worked on it. But towering above them all, just as the Himalayas
> surpass all other peaks on the planet, is His Holiness Tenzin Gyatso
> the Fourteenth Dalai Lama. Timeless, gigantic, respectful, tolerant,
> patient, modest, simple, full of humor, warm, gentle, lithe, earthy,
> harmonious, transparent, pure, and always smiling and laughing ? this
> is how the Kundun (the Tibetan word means ?presence? or ?living
> Buddha?) is now known to all. There is no positive human characteristic
> which has not at one time or another been applied to the Dalai Lama.
> For many of the planet?s inhabitants, even if they are non-Buddhists,
> he represents the most respectable living individual of our epoch.
>
> Many believe they have discovered in the straightforward personality of
> this Buddhist monk all the rare qualities of a gracious and trustworthy
> character that we seek in vain among our Western politicians and church
> leaders. In a world full of evil, materialism, and corruption he
> represents goodwill, the realm of the spirit, and the lotus blossom of
> purity; amidst the maelstrom of trivialities and confusion he stands
> for meaning, calm, and stability; in the competitive struggle of modern
> capitalism and in an age where reports of catastrophes are constant he
> is the guarantor of justice and a clear and unshaken will; from the
> thick of the battle of cultures and peoples he emerges as the apostle
> of peace; amidst a global outbreak of religious fanaticism he preaches
> tolerance and nonviolence.
>
> His followers worship him as a deity, a ?living Buddha? (Kundun), and
> call him their ?divine king?. Not even the Catholic popes or medieval
> emperors ever claimed such a high spiritual position ? they continued
> to bow down before the ?Lord of Lords? (God) as his supreme servants.
> The Dalai Lama, however ?according to Tibetan doctrine at least ?
> himself appears and acts as the ?Highest?. In him is revealed the
> mystic figure of ADI BUDDHA (the Supreme Buddha); he is a religious
> ideal in flesh and blood. In some circles, enormous hopes are placed in
> the Kundun as the new Redeemer himself. Not just Tibetans and
> Mongolians, many Taiwan Chinese and Westerners also see him as a
> latter-day Messiah. [1]
>
> However human the monk from Dharamsala (India) may appear, his person
> is surrounded by the most occult speculations. Many who have met him
> believe they have encountered the supernatural. In the case of the
> ?divine king? who has descended to mankind from the roof of the world,
> that which was denied Moses?namely, to glimpse the countenance of God
> (Yahweh)?has become possible for pious Buddhists; and unlike Yahweh
> this countenance shows no wrath, but smiles graciously and warmly
> instead.
>
> The esoteric pathos in the characterization of the Dalai Lama has long
> since transcended the boundaries of Buddhist insider groups. It is the
> famous show business personalities and even articles in the
> ?respectable? Western press who now express the mystic flair of the
> Kundun in weighty exclamations: ?The fascination is the search for the
> third eye?, Melissa Mathison, scriptwriter for Martin Scorsese?s film,
> Kundun, writes in the Herald Tribune. ?Americans are hoping for some
> sort of magical door into the mystical, thinking that there?s some
> mysterious reason for things, a cosmic explanation. Tibet offers the
> most extravagant expression of the mystical, and when people meet His
> Holiness, you can see on their faces that they?re hoping to get this
> hit that will transcend their lives, take them someplace else? (Herald
> Tribune, March 20, 1997).
>
> Nevertheless ? and this is another magical fairytale ? the divine
> king?s omnipotent role combines well with the monastic modesty and
> simplicity he exhibits. It is precisely this fascinating combination of
> the supreme (?divine king?) and the almighty with the lowliest
> (?mendicant?) and weakest that makes the Dalai Lama so appealing for
> many ? clear, understandable words, a gracious smile, a simple robe,
> plain sandals, and behind all this the omnipotence of the divine. With
> his constantly repeated statement ? ?I ... see myself first as a man
> and a Tibetan who has made the decision to become a Buddhist monk? ?
> His Holiness has conquered the hearts of the West (Dalai Lama XIV,
> 1993a, p. 7). We can believe in such a person, we can find refuge in
> him, from him we learn about the wisdom of life and death. [2]
>
> A similar reverse effect is found in another of the Kundun?s favorite
> sayings, that the institution of the Dalai Lama could become
> superfluous in the future. ?Perhaps it would really be good if I were
> the last!? (Levenson, 1990, p. 366). Such admissions of his own
> superfluity bring tears to people?s eyes and are only surpassed by the
> prognosis of the ?divine king? that in his next life he will probably
> be reincarnated as an insect in order to help this lower form of life
> as an ?insect messiah?. In the wake of such heartrending prophecies
> no-one would wish for anything more than that the institution of the
> Dalai Lama might last for ever.
>
> The political impotence of the country the hierarch had to flee has a
> similarly powerful and disturbing effect. The image of the innocent,
> peaceful, spiritual, defenseless, and tiny Tibet, suppressed and
> humiliated by the merciless, inhumane, and materialistic Chinese giant
> has elevated the ?Land of Snows? and its monastic king to the status of
> a worldwide symbol of ?pacifist resistance?. The more Tibet and its
> ?ecclesiastical king? are threatened, the more his spiritual authority
> increases and the more the Kundun becomes an international moral
> authority. He has succeeded in the impossible task of drawing strength
> from his weakness.
>
> The numerous speeches of the Fourteenth Dalai Lama, his interviews,
> statements, writings, biographies, books, and his countless
> introductions and forewords to the texts of others deal almost
> exclusively with topics like compassion, kindness, sincerity, love,
> nonviolence, human rights, ecological visions, professions of
> democracy, religious tolerance, inner and outer spirituality, the
> blessings of science, world peace, and so on. It would take a true
> villain to not agree totally with what he has said and written.
> Training consciousness, achieving spiritual peace, cultivating inner
> contentment, fostering satisfaction, practicing awareness, eliminating
> egoism, helping others ? what responsible person could fail to identify
> with this? Who doesn?t long for flawless love, clear intellect,
> generosity, and enlightenment?
>
> Within Western civilization, the Dalai Lama appears as the purest
> light. He represents ? according to former President Jimmy Carter ? a
> new type of world leader, who has placed the principles of peace and
> compassion at the center of his politics, and who, with his kind and
> winning nature, has shown us all how the hardest blows of fate can be
> borne with perseverance and patience. By now he symbolizes human
> dignity and global responsibility for millions. Up until very recently
> hardly anyone, with the exception of his archenemies, the Chinese
> communists, has dared to criticize this impotent/omnipotent luminary.
> But then, out of the blue in 1996, dark clouds began to gather over the
> bright aura of the ?living Buddha?.
>
> Charges, accusations, suspicions and incriminations began to appear in
> the media. At first on the Internet, then in isolated press reports,
> and finally in television programs (see Panorama on ARD [Germany],
> November 20, 1997 and 10 vor 10 on SF1 [Switzerland], January 5-8,
> 1998). At the same time as the Hollywood stars were erecting a media
> altar for their Tibetan god, the public attacks on the Dalai Lama were
> becoming more frequent. Even for a mundane politician the catalogue of
> accusations would have been embarrassing, but for a divine king they
> were horrendous. And on this occasion the attacks came not from the
> Chinese camp but from within his own ranks.
>
> The following serious charges are leveled in an open letter to the
> Kundun supposedly written by Tibetans in exile which criticizes the
> ?despotism? of the hierarch: ?The cause [of the despotism] is the
> invisible disease which is still there and which develops immediately
> if met with various conditions. And what is this disease? It is your
> clinging to your own power. It is a fact that even at that time if
> someone would have used democracy on you, you would not have been able
> to accept it. ... Your Holiness, you wish to be a great leader, but you
> do not know that in order to fulfill the wish, a ?political Bodhisattva
> vow? is required. So you entered instead the wrong ?political path of
> accumulation? (tsog lam) and that has lead you on a continuously wrong
> path. You believed that in order to be a greater leader you had to
> secure your own position first of all, and whenever any opposition
> against you arose you had to defend yourself, and this has become
> contagious. ... Moreover, to challenge lamas you have used religion for
> your own aim. To that purpose you had to develop the Tibetan people?s
> blind faith. ... For instance, you started the politics of public
> Kalachakra initiations. [3] Normally the Kalachakra initiation is not
> given in public. Then you started to use it continuously in a big way
> for your politics. The result is that now the Tibetan people have
> returned to exactly the same muddy and dirty mixing of politics and
> religion of lamas which you yourself had so precisely criticized in
> earlier times. ... You have made the Tibetans into donkeys. You can
> force them to go here and there as you like. In your words you always
> say that you want to be Ghandi but in your action you are like a
> religious fundamentalist who uses religious faith for political
> purposes. Your image is the Dalai Lama, your mouth is Mahatma Ghandi
> and your heart is like that of a religious dictator. You are a deceiver
> and it is very sad that on the top of the suffering that they already
> have the Tibetan people have a leader like you. Tibetans have become
> fanatics. They say that the Dalai Lama is more important than the
> principle of Tibet. ... Please, if you feel like being like Gandhi, do
> not turn the Tibetan situation in the church dominated style of 17th
> century Europe? (Sam, May 27, 1997 - Newsgroup 16).
>
> The list of accusations goes on and on. Here we present some of the
> charges raised against the Kundun since 1997 which we treat in more
> detail in this study: association with the Japanese ?poison gas guru?
> Shoko Asahara (the ?Asahara affair?); violent suppression of the free
> expression of religion within his own ranks (the ?Shugden affair?); the
> splitting of the other Buddhist sects (the ?Karmapa affair?); frequent
> sexual abuse of women by Tibetan lamas (?Sogyal Rinpoche and June
> Campbell affairs?); intolerance towards homosexuals; involvement in a
> ritual murder (the events of February 4, 1997); links to National
> Socialism (the ?Heinrich Harrer affair?); nepotism (the ?Yabshi
> affair?); selling out his own country to the Chinese (renunciation of
> Tibetan sovereignty); political lies; rewriting history; and much more.
> Overnight the god has become a demon. [4]
>
> And all of a sudden Westerners are beginning to ask themselves whether
> the king of light from the Himalayas might not have a monstrous shadow.
> What we mean by the Dalai Lama?s ?shadow? is the possibility of a dark,
> murky, and ?dirty? side to both his personality and politicoreligious
> office in contrast to the pure and brilliant figure he cuts as the
> ?greatest living hero of peace in our century? in the captivated
> awareness of millions.
>
> For most people who have come to know him personally or via the media,
> such nocturnal dimensions to His Holiness are unimaginable. The
> possibility would not even occur to them, since the Kundun has grasped
> how to effectively conceal the threatening and demonic aspects of
> Tibetan Buddhism and the many dark chapters in the history of Tibet. Up
> until 1996 he had succeeded ?the poorly grounded Chinese critique aside
> ? in playing the shining hero on the world stage.
>
> Plato?s cave
>
> The shadow is the ?other side? of a person, his ?hidden face?, the
> shadows are his ?occult depths?. Psychoanalysis teaches us that there
> are four ways of dealing with our shadow: we can deny it, suppress it,
> project it onto other people, or integrate it.
>
> But the topic of the shadow does not just have a psychological
> dimension; ever since Plato?s famous analogy of the cave it has become
> one of the favorite motifs of Western philosophy. In his Politeia (The
> State), Plato tells of an ?unenlightened? people who inhabit a cave
> with their backs to the entrance. Outside shines the light of eternal
> and true reality, but as the people have turned their backs to it, all
> they see are the shadows of reality which flit sketchily across the
> walls of the cave before their eyes. Their human attentiveness is
> magically captivated by this shadowy world and they thus perceive only
> dreams and illusions, never higher reality itself. Should a cave
> dweller one day manage to escape this dusky dwelling, he would
> recognize that he had been living in a world of illusions.
>
> This parable was adapted by Friedrich Nietzsche in Aphorism 108 of his
> Fr?che Wissenschaft [The Gay Science] and ? of interest here ?
> linked to the figure of Buddha: ?For centuries after Buddha had died,?
> Nietzsche wrote, ?his shadow was still visible in a cave ? a dreadful,
> spine-chilling shadow. God is dead: but man being the way he is, for
> centuries to come there will be caves in which his shadow is shown ?
> and we ? we must also triumph over his shadow?. [5]
>
> This aphorism encourages us to speculate about the Dalai Lama. He is,
> after all, worshipped as ?God? or as a ?living Buddha? (Kundun), as a
> supreme enlightened being. But, we could argue with Nietzsche, the true
> Buddha (?God?) is dead. Does this make the figure of the Dalai Lama
> nothing but a shadow? Are pseudo-dogmas, pseudo-rituals, and
> pseudo-mysteries all that remain of the original Buddhism? Did the
> historical Buddha Shakyamuni leave us with his ?dreadful shadow? (the
> Dalai Lama) and have we been challenged to liberate ourselves from him?
> However, we could also speculate as to whether people perceive only the
> Dalai Lama?s silhouette since they still live in the cave of an
> unenlightened consciousness. If they were to leave this world of
> illusion, they might experience the Kundun as the supreme luminary and
> Supreme Buddha (ADI BUDDHA).
>
> In our study of the Dalai Lama we offer concrete answers to these and
> similar metaphysical questions. To do this, however, we must lead our
> readers into (Nietzsche?s) cave, where the ?dreadful shadow? of the
> Kundun (a ?living Buddha?) appears on the wall. Up until now this cave
> has been closed to the public and could not be entered by the
> uninitiated.
>
> Incidentally, every Tibetan temple possesses such an eerie room of
> shadows. Beside the various sacred chambers in which smiling Buddha
> statues emit peace and composure there are secret rooms known as
> gokhangs which can only be entered by a chosen few. In the dim light of
> flickering, half-drowned butter lamps, surrounded by rusty weapons,
> stuffed animals, and mummified body parts, the Tibetan terror gods
> reside in the gokhang. Here, the inhabitants of a violent and monstrous
> realm of darkness are assembled. In a figurative sense the gokhang
> symbolizes the dark ritualism of Lamaism and Tibet?s hidden history of
> violence. In order to truly get to know the Dalai Lama (the ?living
> Buddha?) we must first descend into the ?cave? (the gokhang) and there
> conduct a speleology of his religion.
>
> ?Realpolitik? and the ?Politics of Symbols?
>
> Our study is divided into two parts. The first contain a depiction and
> critique of the religious foundations of Tibetan (?Tantric?) Buddhism
> and is entitled Ritual as Politics. The second part (Politics as
> Ritual) examines the power politics of the Kundun (Dalai Lama) and its
> historical preconditions. The relationship between political power and
> religion is thus central to our book.
>
> In ancient societies (like that of Tibet), everything that happens in
> the everyday world ? from acts of nature to major political events to
> quotidian occurrences ? is the expression of transcendent powers and
> forces working behind the scenes. Mortals do not determine their own
> fates; rather they are instruments in the hands of ?gods? and ?demons?.
> If we wish to gain any understanding at all of the Dalai Lama?s
> ?secular? politics, it must be derived from this atavistic perspective
> which permeates the traditional cultural legacy of Tibetan Buddhism.
> For the mysteries that he administers (in which the ?gods? make their
> appearances) form the foundations of his political vision and decision
> making. State and religion, ritual and politics are inseparable for
> him.
>
> What, however, distinguishes a ?politics of symbols? from
> ?realpolitik?? Both are concerned with power, but the methods for
> achieving and maintaining power differ. In realpolitik we are dealing
> with facts that are both caused and manipulated by people. Here the
> protagonists are politicians, generals, CEOs, leaders of opinion,
> cultural luminaries, etc. The methods through which power is exercised
> include force, war, revolution, legal systems, money, rhetoric,
> propaganda, public discussions, and bribery.
>
> In the symbolic political world, however, we encounter ?supernatural?
> energy fields, the ?gods? and ?demons?. The secular protagonists in
> events are still human beings such as ecclesiastical dignitaries,
> priests, magicians, gurus, yogis, and shamans. But they all see
> themselves as servants of some type of superior divine will, or,
> transcending their humanity they themselves become ?gods?, as in the
> case of the Dalai Lama. His exercise of power thus not only involves
> worldly techniques but also the manipulation of symbols in rituals and
> magic. For him, symbolic images and ritual acts are not simply signs or
> aesthetic acts but rather instruments with which to activate the gods
> and to influence people?s awareness. His political reality is
> determined by a ?metaphysical detour? via the mysteries. [6]
> by the German Tibetoligist, Albert Gr?l, which can be found in the
> Bavarian State Library in Munich. Important parts of the Sri Kalachakra
> have been translated into English by John Roland Newman, along with a
> famous commentary on these parts by Pundarika known as the
> Vimalaphraba. (John Ronald Newman - The outer wheel of time: Vajrayana
> buddhist cosmology in the Kalacakra Tantra ? Vimalaprabhā -
> nāmamūlatantrānusāriņī-dvādaśasāhasrikālagukālacakratantrarājaţīkā
> ) Madison 1987)
>
> The Sri Kalachakra (Laghukalachakratantra) is supposed to be the
> abridgement of a far more comprehensive original text by the name of
> Sekoddesha. The complete text has been lost ? but some important
> passages from it have been preserved and have been commented upon by
> the renowned scholar Naropa (10th century). An Italian translation of
> the commentary by Ranieri Gnoli and Giacomella Orofino is available.
> Further to this, we have studied every other work on the Kalachakra
> Tantra which we have been able to find in a Western language. We were
> thus in a position to be able to adequately reconstruct the contents of
> the ?Time Tantra? from the numerous translated commentaries and sources
> for a cultural historical (and not a philological) assessment of the
> tantra. This extensive literature is listed at the end of the book. In
> order to make the intentions and methods of this religious system
> comprehensible for a Western audience, a comparison with other tantras
> and with parallels in European culture is of greater importance than a
> meticulous linguistic knowledge of every line in the Sanskrit or
> Tibetan original.
>
> In the interests of readability, we have transliterated Tibetan and
> Sanskrit names without diacritical marks and in this have primarily
> oriented ourselves to Anglo-Saxon usages.
>
> Footnotes:
>
> [1] In the opinion of the Tibet researcher, Peter Bishop, the head of
> the Lamaist ?church? satisfies a ?reawakened appreciation of the Divine
> Father? for many people from the West (Bishop 1993, p. 130). For
> Bishop, His Holiness stands out as a fatherly savior figure against the
> insecurities and fears produced by modern society, against the
> criticisms leveled at monotheistic religions, and against the rubble of
> the decline of the European system of values.
>
> [2] Through this contradictory effect the Dalai Lama is able to
> strengthen his superhuman stature with the most banal of words and
> deeds. Many of His Holiness?s Western visitors, for example, are amazed
> after an audience that a ?god-king? constantly rubs his nose and
> scratches his head ?like an ape?. Yet, writes the Tibet researcher
> Christiaan Klieger, ?such expressions of the body natural do not
> detract from the status of the Dalai Lama ? far from it, as it adds to
> his personal charisma. It maintains that incongruous image of a divine
> form in a human body? (Klieger 1991, p 79).
>
> [3] The Kalachakra initiations are the most significant rituals which
> the Dalai Lama conducts, partly in public and in part in secret. By now
> the public events take place in the presence of hundreds of thousands.
> Analyses and interpretations of the Kalachakra initiations lie at the
> center of the current study.
>
> [4] Up until 1996 the West needed to be divided into two factions ?
> with the eloquent advocates of Tibetan Buddhism on the one hand, and
> those who were completely ignorant of the issue and remained silent on
> the other. In contrast, modern or ?postmodern? cultural criticisms of
> the Buddhist teachings and critical examinations of the Tibetan clergy
> and the Tibetan state structure were extremely rare (completely the
> opposite of the case of the literature which addresses the Pope and the
> Catholic Church). Noncommitted and unfalsified analyses and
> interpretations of Buddhist or Tibetan history, in brief open and
> truth-seeking confrontations with the shady side of the ?true faith?
> and its history, have to be sought out like needles in a haystack of
> ideological glorifications and deliberately constructed myths of
> history. For this reason those who attempted to discover and reveal the
> hidden background have had to battle to swim against a massive current
> of resistance based on pre-formed opinions and deliberate manipulation.
> This situation has changed in the period since 1996.
>
> [5] The fact that Nietzsche?s aphorism about the shadow is number 108
> offers numerologists fertile grounds for occult speculation, as 108 is
> one of the most significant holy numbers in Tibetan Buddhism. Given the
> status of knowledge about Tibet at the time, it is hardly likely that
> Nietzsche chose this number deliberately.
>
> [6] There is nonetheless an occult correlation between ?symbolic and
> ritual politics? and real political events. Thus the Tibetan lamas
> believe they are justified in subsuming the pre-existing social reality
> (including that of the West) into their magical world view and
> subjecting it to their ?irrational? methods. With a for a contemporary
Julian
<2?
--
http://ptlslzb87.blogspot.com/
.....................................................................................
*** Posted via a free Usenet account from http://www.teranews.com ***
Geir
Date : Sam 20 mai 2006 20:14
E-mail : Julian <julianlz...@gmail.com>
Groupes : alt.religion.buddhism.tibetan
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<2?
--
I must say that those 2 would add onto Evelyn Ruut, who's pissed at
Fiinigan being dragged into this as her exchange with me proved
earlier. Then there's Finnigan and the other three women involved in
the Sogyal -Sakya scams that involved Miranda Shaw and the Time
magazine heiress.
Those people have hefty followings of their own seeing Shaw is now an
offical guru and the Time heiress has all the scandal mongerers of the
Time Empire.
Then here on ARBTyou have literally hords of people that follow the
Dalai Lama like sheep going to slaughter and they are horrified to see
the things the Trimondis reveal or say about him.
Now, I'm moving into Trungpa territory today and that opens up all the
hords of Trungpa followers here that are brothers in religion to the
Carreons and ABOL. I think that all the posts about all this thus touch
upon whole sections of the ARBT reading-population, and that this
being posted does not leave people indifferent at all. They read and
bide their times, thinking this will go by, pass on, and that they'll
come back later then themselves, to post again. But what they don't
know is that Charles Carreon is a lawyer and built up his site like a
fail-proof case... and that once this has all been posted, no one like
Ruut can come on with her fake excuses and thus the whole of their
alibis will have been debunked by Carreon's lawyer's skills. This just
won't go away, sorry. The fraud of these fake guru-quacks is continued
and abbetted by most on these ngs that are all under the influence of
what Carreon calls the "American Buddha" and it's fake grounding and
manner. None of the people on ARBT will be able to avoid - or look away
-from what Carreon has written, because this is being published out in
the open now. Being on his site, people can choose to not look at his
site. But being published on ARBT, at least those few that do look at
it, cannot look away because it's known what kind of traffic ARBT has.
The pattern of their reading is thus perfectly well-documented and the
rabbit may bot be eating the bait, but he'll have to come out when he
gets hungry and he'll get baited then. ARBT's traffic consists of about
ten to fifty hits a day, on and off. Over a month's period that the
full contents of ABOL goes on line (due to me), even in low
times-traffic, the average will still be of at least five to ten hits a
day. The people lurking are also a strong factor to look at. This is
corroborated by the other posts being sent and also by their tone,
(seeing the pother posts here nowadays have reverted to speaking of
things that are unrelated apparently to this thread but in fact relate
to it in an indirect way). Various threads here about the leadership of
Bush as the leader of the free world relate evidently to the thread I'm
posting because the question Carreon posits is that of who is in
control of the souls of today's people in Buddhism. But he also posits
the question of who directs the spiritual world because he clearly
outlines that Buddhism did represent the alternative they thought they
had found in the early days of Buddhism. The nerd-head thread on Bush
thus questions his authority and certainly questions his authority to
lead the world as a beacon of spirituality as some way-side
fundamentalists think. This is a common liberal, left-activist position
which is to fight with the fundies. It's also part and parcel of where
Carreon is speaking from seeing he's also part of the Undergroud
culture that sprouted out of the same fountainheads of the
Hippy-culture of the '60s. The threads that are also shown up in the
last week have indeed also been about Hippydom (400 year old Hippy !).
There's no mistake there. A lot more people than just two. More like
just about the whole of ABOL is using it's brains to relate to this, be
it by channelling or by thought-transfer. I mean where's the beef ?
People aren't stupid enough not to get what Carreon so laboriously maps
out in hist site. Carreon brings up the main stench-problems of
Buddhism, be it corruption with Sogyal, Trungpa or the problems of
power with the Dalai Lama entourage. One would have to be gravely blind
to see something else. Maybe not "watching my lips", really. I haven't
even mentionned Seagal, Thurman or the rest, but all here are not
innocent and knowall about that too. Don't act stupid with me, that
doesn't work any more. Acting the idioot is a kid's game. Play it with
an open mind and no deceit anymore. Time is no longer for lying and
hiding. Time is for open heats. Ruut spoke out in real English. Time
for all the rest too to do so.
Geir
Seagal is right anyways and a prelude to his page from the site that I
endorse as denouncing ma madman. The rest still needs a pinch of salt
to it.
"HIS MATERIAL HIGHNESS
by Christopher Hitchens
July 13, 1998
FAR FROM HIS HOLIER-THAN-ALL IMAGE, THE DALAI LAMA SUPPORTS SUCH
QUESTIONABLE CAUSES AS INDIA'S NUCLEAR TESTING, SEX WITH PROSTITUTES
AND ACCEPTING DONATIONS FROM A JAPANESE TERRORIST CULT.
The Dalai Lama has come out in support of the thermonuclear tests
recently conducted by the Indian state, and has done so in the very
language of the chauvinist parties who now control that state's
affairs. The "developed" countries, he says, must realize that India is
a major contender and should not concern themselves with its internal
affairs. This is a perfectly realpolitik statement, so crass and banal
and opportunist that it would not deserve any comment if it came from
another source.
"Think different," says the ungrammatical Apple Computer advertisement
that features the serene visage of His Holiness. Among the untested
assumptions of this billboard campaign is the widely and lazily held
belief that "Oriental" religion is different from other faiths: less
dogmatic, more contemplative, more ... transcendental. This blissful,
thoughtless exceptionalism has been conveyed to the West through a
succession of mediums and narratives, ranging from the pulp novel "Lost
Horizon," by James Hilton (creator of Mr. Chips as well as Shangri-La),
to the memoir "Seven Years in Tibet," by SS veteran Heinrich Harrer,
prettified for the screen by Brad Pitt. China's foul conduct in an
occupied land, combined with a Hollywood cult that almost exceeds the
power of Scientology, has fused with weightless Maharishi and
Bhagwan-type babble to create an image of an idealized Tibet and of a
saintly god-king. So perhaps the Apple injunction to think differently
is worth heeding.
The greatest triumph that modern PR can offer is the transcendent
success of having your words and actions judged by your reputation,
rather than the other way about. The "spiritual leader" of Tibet has
enjoyed this unassailable status for some time now, becoming a byword
and synonym for saintly and ethereal values. Why this doesn't put
people on their guard I'll never know. But here are some other facts
about the serene leader that, dwarfed as they are by his endorsement of
nuclear weapons, are still worth knowing and still generally unknown.
Shoko Asahara, leader of the Supreme Truth cult in Japan and spreader
of sarin nerve gas on the Tokyo subway, donated 45 million rupees, or
about 170 million yen (about $1.2 million), to the Dalai Lama and was
rewarded for his efforts by several high-level meetings with the divine
one.
Steven Seagal, the robotic and moronic "actor" who gave us "Hard to
Kill" and "Under Siege," has been proclaimed a reincarnated lama and a
sacred vessel or "tulku" of Tibetan Buddhism. This decision, ratified
by Penor Rinpoche, supreme head of the Nyingma School of Tibetan
Buddhism, was initially received with incredulity by Richard Gere, who
had hitherto believed himself to be the superstar most favored. "If
someone's a tulku, that's great," he was quoted as saying. "But no one
knows if that's true." How insightful, if only accidentally. At a
subsequent Los Angeles appearance by the Dalai Lama, Seagal was seated
in the front row and Gere two rows back, thus giving the latter's
humility and submissiveness a day at the races. Suggestions that
Seagal's fortune helped elevate him to the Himalayan status of tulku
are not completely discounted even by some adepts and initiates.
Supporters of the Dorge Shugden deity -- a "Dharma protector" and an
ancient object of worship and propitiation in Tibet -- have been
threatened with violence and ostracism and even death following the
Dalai Lama's abrupt prohibition of this once-venerated godhead. A Swiss
television documentary graphically intercuts footage of His Holiness,
denying all knowledge of menace and intimidation, with scenes of his
followers' enthusiastically promulgating "Wanted" posters and other
paraphernalia of excommunication and persecution.
While he denies being a Buddhist "Pope," the Dalai Lama is never
happier than when brooding in a celibate manner on the sex lives of
people he has never met. "Sexual misconduct for men and women consists
of oral and anal sex," he has repeatedly said in promoting his book on
these matters. "Using one's hand, that is sexual misconduct." But, as
ever with religious stipulations, there is a nutty escape clause. "To
have sexual relations with a prostitute paid by you and not by a third
person does not constitute improper behavior." Not all of this can have
been said just to placate Richard Gere, or to attract the royalties
from "Pretty Woman."
I have talked to a few Dorge Shugden adherents, who seem sincere enough
and who certainly seem frightened enough, but I can't go along with
their insistence on the "irony" of all this. Buddhism can be as
hysterical and sanguinary as any other system that relies on faith and
tribe. Lon Nol's Cambodian army was Buddhist at least in name. Solomon
Bandaranaike, first elected leader of independent Sri Lanka, was
assassinated by a Buddhist militant. It was Buddhist-led pogroms
against the Tamils that opened the long and disastrous communal war
that ruins Sri Lanka to this day. The gorgeously named SLORC, the
military fascism that runs Burma, does so nominally as a Buddhist
junta. I have even heard it whispered that in old Tibet, that pristine
and contemplative land, the lamas were the allies of feudalism and
unsmilingly inflicted medieval punishments such as blinding and
flogging unto death.
Yet the entire Western mass media is uncritically at the service of a
mere mortal who, at the very least, proclaims the utter nonsense of
reincarnation and who affirms the sinister if not indeed crazy belief
that death is but a stage in a grand cycle of what appears to be
futility and subjection. What need, then, to worry about nuclear
weaponry, or sectarian frenzy, or the sale of indulgences to men of the
stamp of Steven Seagal? "Harmony" will doubtless kick in. During his
visit to Beijing, our sentimental Baptist hypocrite of a president
turned to his dictator host, recommended that he meet with the Dalai
Lama and assured him that the two of them would get on well. That might
easily turn out to be the case. Both are very much creatures of the
material world. "
Geir : getting slowly to the nitty-gritty of the site i.e. the
Trungpa-Osel drugs and AIDS part. The part here about the Dalai Lama
and prostitutes is just too far off the wall. Gimme another, eh !
Geir
this is just an understatment. All of France was Fascist during the war
at 95%. The world's main scholar on Tibetan Buddhism was a Fascist :
Giuseppe Tucci. The links to Buddhism exist whether we want it or not
and doing without is useless because that's what it is. All of the
truth since WW II is thus a lie and useless to try to contiune. The
Fascist influence must be acknoweldged now.
"HITLER, BUDDHA, KRISHNA -- AN UNHOLY ALLIANCE FROM THE THIRD REICH TO
THE PRESENT DAY
by Victor and Victoria Trimondi
(Ueberreuter Verlag – Vienna – 2002)
The Nazi "myth makers" were especially fascinated by the Far East. It
was there - more so than in the cultural roots of Europe - that they
hoped to find the foundations of a "political theology", which the
gigantic regime which was the Third Reich could use as its metaphysical
basis. In the philosophies, mythologies, visions and dogmas as well as
in the religious practices and texts of the spiritual traditions Asia
had to offer they found the models for glorifying war, for the
deification of the "Führer" and the white race. They discovered the
spiritual remnants of a long-lost indo-Aryan and anti-Semitic primeval
religion which they now wanted to reconstruct in the sign of the
swastika. Fascinating portraits of the "Fathers of the Nazi Church".
Recent years have seen a marked rise in public interest in National
Socialism, with fresh research carried out and new interpretations
arrived at. Hitler’s private life and his relations with women continue
to occupy the media. Noteworthy too is the growing attention being
given to interpretations of Nazism as a “political religion” and a
“cult movement”. It is less widely known, however, that the content and
structure and foundation of a “Nazi Religion” were often discussed
within the SS in general and it’s Ahnenerbe [Forefathers Heritage
Society] in particular. The SS, headed by Heinrich Himmler, considered
itself to be the “advance guard of German research into religion. All
the leading figures in this “religion smithy” based their work on the
assumption that a racially pure Aryan faith had existed in prehistoric
times and should therefore be rediscovered and resurrected.
After sifting through archival material, secondary literature and Nazi
documents the authors have been able to demonstrate that this
restoration of an Aryan religion drew on ideas, philosophies,
mythologies, visions, dogmas and sacred practices pertaining to
traditional Oriental belief systems. A coterie of fascist cultural
scholars sprang up asserting that Buddhism, the Vedas, the Puranas, the
Upanishads, the Bhagavad Gita, yoga and even Tantrism were intellectual
remnants of a vanished, global, indo-Aryan, anti-Semitic religion.
There were also borrowings from Tibetan culture and especially from
Japanese Zen and Samurai traditions. The archaic cultural legacy of a
despotic and warlike Orient provided Nazi ideologues with their
theories for:
the apotheosis of the ‘Führer’
a social caste system based on race
the enshrinement of war and warriors
mastery over ones feelings
the manipulation of consciousness
the political exploitation of symbols and rituals
the significance of archaic sacrificial rites
The book has two sections. The first focuses on religious and political
activity within the SS-Ahnenerbe. The aspects of Eastern religions that
were influencing Nazi thought were discussed and debated from an
esoteric as well as an academic stance since Heinrich Himmler, the
Society’s leader, encouraged both approaches to the subject. The
authors were surprised to uncover here discussions on:
Incarnation
Karma law
Buddhist meditation
Samurai ethics
Bhagavad Gita warrior mysticism
Hitler as sacred ruler of the world (Chakravartin)
Truly astonishing is the extent to which Himmler’s world view ‘think
tank’ applied itself so assiduously and comprehensively and with such
foresight to the subject. This section of the book also studies the
Nazi-Tibet-Connection.
The second section sets out the fateful legacy left by the SS-Ahnenerbe
and offers an insight into post-war religious neo-Fascism. We are
confronted here with an occult subculture wielding substantial power, a
school of thought in which myths, religious paradigms, dogmas,
conspiracy theories, esoteric doctrines, superstition, visions,
illusions and the stuff of fables and science fiction all merged so
seamlessly with Nazi ideologies and Nazi history that they could no
longer be distinguished one from the other. The Indo-Tibetan element,
however, is sufficiently prominent to justify talk of “Indian teachings
with National Socialist content”. Hitler appears here as an avatar, the
incarnation of the Indian god Krishna, the Bodhisattva, the
Chakravartin (sacred ruler of the world). The second section also
considers the interest shown by fascists in the Tibetan Kalachakra
Tantra ritual.
Who are the key exponents of theories featured in the book?
“Hitler, Buddha, Krishna” sets out the biographies and ideas of
important Nazi ideologists, highlighting the Asian and in particular
the Buddhist influence on their thought and vision. Pre-1945
personalities covered are:
Heinrich Himmler, SS Reich Commander, architect of mass murder and
admirer of Asian philosophy. A quotation from Himmler: “I marvel at the
wisdom of the founders of Indian religions.” Himmler was a follower of
the Buddhist doctrine of Karma and incarnation.
Walther Wüst, SS colonel, curator of SS-Ahnenerbe, vice chancellor of
Munich University, Orientalist. Wüst has to be viewed as the driving
force behind the SS-Ahnenerbe’s endeavours to forge a religion. He
operated on the assumption that the Nazi religion under construction
should be rooted in the Vedic and Buddhist writings of India.
Founder of the “German Faith Movement” and later SS captain Jakob
Wilhelm Hauer. Scholar of Indian culture and Sanskrit expert, he drew
on Bhagavad Gita and Buddhist texts in an attempt to elaborate the
typology of an invincible war machine.
SS brigadier Karl Maria Wiligut (“Himmler’s Rasputin”), occultist in
the SS-Ahnenerbe. He claimed to be in spiritual contact with Tibetan
Lamaist monasteries.
SS Tibetan researchers Ernst Schäfer and Bruno Beger saw Lamaism as a
treasury in which the core Aryan knowledge was stored. The book also
looks at the relationship of Sven Hedin to the Nazi regime and Hitler.
Japan expert, geopolitician and Deutsche Akademie President Karl
Haushofer. He emphasised the appropriateness of Shinto state fascism as
a model for National Socialism.
The German teachers of Zen Buddhism, Eugen Herrigel and Karlfried
Dürckheim, propounded a link between National Socialism and Zen
philosophy.
The fascist philosopher Julius Evola, whose ideas were much more
influential on the SS than first thought and whose traditionalist
system of theories is based largely on Buddhist and Tantric doctrines.
The SS mystic Otto Rahn and the neo-Buddhist circles he frequented in
France. Their influence led Rahn to claim that the “Grail of the
Cathars” was a “symbol of the soul adopted [!] straight from Buddhism”.
The French specialist on the Orient, Jean Marquès-Rivière, head of the
French secret police (S.S.S.) and SS collaborator. One of the leading
western scholars on Tibetan Kalachakra Tantra.
The first part of the book also deals with the anti-Buddhist movement
in the Third Reich. The chapter entitled “Collaborators, condoners or
victims?” considers the role of Buddhists in the Nazi period.
The protagonists of religious neo-Nazism are studied too, with
particular attention being paid to the effect on their thinking of
Indo-Tibetan ideas and philosophy.
“Hitler’s High Priestess”, Savitri Devi. Was instrumental in the
consecration of Hitler after the war and the establishment of National
Socialism as a quasi Indian sect.
The inventors of the “Nazi mysteries”, French occultists Jacques
Bergier and Louis Pauwels, and the Englishman Trevor Ravenscroft. All
three authors saw National Socialism inextricably linked to the
Indo-Tibetan Shambhala myth.
The “Black Sun” ideologues, Viennese authors Wilhelm Landig and Rudolf
J. Mund, and Jan van Helsing. These writers work from the premise that
Tibetan / Mongolian Lamaism and the esoteric teachings of National
Socialism both have their source in Atlantis.
Miguel Serrano, Chilean diplomat and founder of “esoteric Hitlerism”.
Serrano is an expert in Tantric doctrines. The cornerstones of his
system of racist theories are Indo-Tibetan in origin.
Why the title of the book: “Hitler, Buddha, Krishna” ?
Even before the outbreak of war attempts were made by a number of the
above-mentioned Nazi ideologues to identify Hitler as the latest link
in an Indo-Aryan chain of divine kings and philosophers. Indian
religion founders such as the “Buddha” and Indian hero divinities like
“Krishna” were proclaimed pioneers and heralds of the dictator. This
apotheosis reached its climax in the work of the Chilean diplomat
Miguel Serrano, who revered Hitler as the 10th avatar of the god
Krishna/Vishnu. For Serrano the German dictator is immortal and will
reappear as “avenger” to bestow global supremacy on the Aryan race in
an apocalyptic war to end all wars.
What did Nazi ideologues look for in India, and what did they find ?
In their eyes the classical culture of India was a reserve in which
knowledge of an Aryan stem civilisation was supposed to have survived.
Indian writings furnished them with the religious bases for a cruel
warrior religion and an inhuman ethic for the conduct of war.
They saw the Indian caste system as providing a social orientation
model that fitted their racialist ideology.
They linked the Indian idea of the “global ruler” to their own “Führer
principle” and applied it to Hitler.
>From the Tantric systems of India and Tibet they developed their own
fascist sexual theory.
What was the Nazi ideologues’ particular interest in the Bhagavad Gita
?
Heinrich Himmler is said to have always carried a copy of the Bhagavad
Gita on his person. He compared Hitler with the god Krishna who
features in the poetical work.
The Bhagavad Gita was read like a catechism for the SS. Consequently
many of the above-mentioned Nazi ideologues referred continually to
this Indian war manual.
The Bhagavad Gita’s philosophy is used by rightwing extremists after
the war to legitimise Auschwitz.
What was the Nazi ideologues’ particular interest in Buddhism ?
In their eyes Buddha was an “Aryan” and Buddhism an “Aryan doctrine”.
They emphasised the warlike and virile elements of Buddhism.
Nazi ideologues hold Buddhism to be a doctrine pertaining solely to
power.
Buddhist meditation and yoga techniques are recommended for the
spiritual discipline of the “warrior”.
What did Nazi ideologues look for in Tibet and what did they find ?
The Nazi ideologues were convinced that remnants of an original Aryan
race had survived in Tibet. They organised an expedition to locate
these vestiges.
They believed the ancient Aryan knowledge to be preserved in Lamaist
texts and in Tibetan monasteries. It was intended that SS-Ahnenerbe
Tibetologists decipher this knowledge using translation and text
analysis.
The Tibet researchers of the SS were in thrall to the magic, occult
nature of the Lamaist culture. The occultist within the Ahnenerbe even
believed themselves to be in spiritual contact with Tibetan lamas.
The two leaders of the SS Tibet expedition, Ernst Schäfer and Bruno
Beger, were both especially drawn to the morbid, warlike elements of
Tibetan Buddhism.
The Himalayas were a key objective for Nazi mountaineers.
What did Nazi ideologues look for in Japan and what did they find ?
Japanese Samurai war philosophy (Bushido) fascinated the SS. Himmler
wrote the foreword for a brochure on Samurais, 52,000 copies of which
were distributed throughout the SS.
A variety of themes connected to the Samurai tradition were discussed
within the SS.
German Japanologists and Japanese scholars of German culture made
“theological” comparisons between the National Socialist “Führer
principle” and the Shinto belief of “imperial divinity”.
The German protagonists of Zen Buddhism, Eugen Herrigel and Karlfried
Dürckheim, tried to bind together Zen philosophy and National
Socialism.
What do the Kalachakra Tantra and the Shambhala have to do with
National Socialism ?
SS-Ahnenerbe researchers were especially interested in the Kalachakra
Tantra.
The Shambala vision recorded in the Kalachakra Tantra has become a
central pillar in the mythology of religious neo-Nazism.
Many of the themes raised in the Kalachakra Tantra (a cyclical view of
the world, global domination, the use of super weapons, magic and
ritual in sexual practices etc) are key themes in religious fascism.
The Kalachakra Tantra challenges the monotheistic religions, all three
of which are Semitic in origin. For this reason it was harnessed by
extreme rightwing, anti-Semitic circles for their racist propaganda.
Contact between the XIVth Dalai Lama, as the supreme Kalachakra master,
and representatives of religious fanaticism and former SS men.
Which philosophical themes are treated in the book ?
National Socialism as “political religion”
The attempt to consecrate the “Führer”, the “race” and the “war”
The creation of a National Socialist “divine warrior” and the
mythologizing of the SS
The sacrifices represented by the Second World War and Auschwitz as
foundation stones for a Nazi religion
The phantasm of religious neo-Fascism
A comparison of Asian religions with the Nazi world view
Why is the book topical ?
Religious neo-Nazism, as an extension and development of the Indo-Aryan
religious construct forged by the SS-Ahnenerbe, is spreading to other
countries at an alarming rate.
The “importing” of Eastern religion systems is increasing rapidly
without prior investigation being carried out into their inhuman
content, atavistic practices, political power aspirations and warlike
history.
Religious fundamentalism and fascist totalitarianism have many things
in common and tend to join forces. Acutely topical concepts such as
“divine warrior”, “theocracy” and “war of religions” are also present
in the neo-Nazi model. The sources of inspiration for these concepts
stem less from the “Semitic” religions (Judaism, Christianity, Islam)
than from Asian faiths.
Who is this book aimed at ?
Anyone who has even a peripheral interest in the “Hitler issue” and the
history of the “Third Reich” is presented here with a new
interpretation of National Socialism based on material hitherto
overlooked or otherwise ignored.
Furthermore, the book targets all those readers who feel in any way
connected to the issues of religion, conflict between cultures,
fundamentalism, religious terror, “divine warriors” and Eastern
spirituality (Lamaism, Buddhism, Tantrism, Zen etc), cultural
philosophy, politics, psychology, esoterics, ideological criticism and
cultural studies in general.
See also:
Book Review of “Hitler-Buddha-Krishna” Fascist Occultism and it’s Close
Relationship to Buddhist Tantrism
Asia as a topos of Fear and Desire for Nazis and extreme rightists in
the case of Asian Studies in Sweden:
http://orient4.orient.su.se/personal/tobias.hubinette/asianists.pdf
Press reviews of "Hitler, Buddha, Krishna" Frankfurter Allgemeine
Zeitung, 19th May 2003 (Germany)
The combination of Buddhist, Hindu and neo-Nazi mysticism on the one
hand and right-wingers’ blatant propensity to violence on the other
presents a real danger to the free world, in the opinion of the
authors. They see their treatise as contributing to an open and
detailed discussion of the content of imported Asian religions. The
objective of the Trimondis’ work is as simple as it is
all-encompassing: it aims to assist in the salvation of the value
system of Western civilisation.
Der Standard, 31st August 2002 (Austria)
A new book of provocative theses is confronting head-on the success
enjoyed by Eastern religions in the West: in their book Hitler, Buddha,
Krishna Victor and Victoria Trimondi describe what they perceive as an
unholy alliance stretching from the Third Reich to the present day.” –
“The Dalai Lama: many people await his appearances in eager
anticipation, yet in the opinion of Victor and Victoria Trimondi his
message of peace is founded on problematic rituals.
Der Standard, 5th September 2002 (Austria)
In the occult circles of the extreme right top-level National
Socialists have long been conferring their own interpretations on the
religions of the Far East: Satanist sects and Nazi heavy metal bands
think nothing of reducing the tenets of these religions to war and
‘final struggle’. Hitler, Buddha, Krishna provides the material for
this thesis – and ample food for discussion.
Rheinischer Merkur, 5th September 2002 (Germany)
Spirituality and struggle - in their latest book Victor and Victoria
Trimondi have assembled a mass of facts affording new insights into the
intellectual fundaments of Eastern religions. The material extends from
the Kshatriya philosophy and its direct association of war and
spirituality to the Kalachakra Tantra and the idea of a worldwide
‘warrior religion’.
Bild, 19th September 2002 (Germany)
They were obsessed with the idea of a party, a people, an empire, a
Führer and – a church! This is the revelation of a new book [Hitler,
Buddha, Krishna]. Adolf Hitler and his SS chief Heinrich Himmler
borrowed from many a different creed in assembling the building blocks
for a ‘Nazi religion’. Designed as a collage faith, mild-mannered
Buddhism, of all religions, was to be the cornerstone of a belief
system gathering and swelling into an Indo-Aryan mania based on race
and violence.
Aargauer Zeitung, 25th September 2002 (Germany)
Is the portrait of Eastern holy men hanging crooked? Dark clouds are
gathering in the firmament above the religions of the East. [Victor and
Victoria Trimondi] warn that Eastern doctrines could be
instrumentalised for religious fanaticism.
Die Presse, 5th October 2002 (Austria)
Hitler, Buddha, Krishna is a detailed analysis of the influence exerted
on National Socialism by Eastern religions. An exciting read, perhaps
also since the signs are that the authors’ attitude to their subject is
far from distanced and emotionless.
Süddeutsche Zeitung, 14th October 2002 (Germany)
Hitler, Buddha, Krishna “reads like an appeal to an entire generation
to foreswear its allegiance to the East rooted in its rejection of the
affronts of modern Western society. The one-time publisher of Mao’s
‘little red book’ has returned, via Tibet, to the informative
literature of the Judeo-Christian tradition. This is the wake-up call
to those who regard Buddhism as a self-service counter offering
‘post-modern hedonism’ (Slavo Zizek).
Universum Magazin, October 2002 (Austria)
In writing their exhaustively researched book Victor und Victoria
Trimondi have triggered a debate over the “unholy alliance” between
Western fascism and Eastern warrior religions. Serving as background to
this is the fact that, although the National Socialists were able to
justify violence, murder and war as a ‘struggle in the name of God and
Faith’, there is a long-standing history of misusing faith as a driving
force behind radical ideology.
Factum Magazin, September 2002 (Switzerland)
Was Hitler’s world view modelled on Buddhism? A comprehensively
researched book reveals that Hitler’s followers, inspired by ancient
texts of the Far East, built him up to be the Chakravartin, the worldly
and other-worldly global ruler within the context of a Nazi religion.
[…] The bibliography on which the authors base their work is remarkable
and is liable to make any refutation of its claims a difficult task.
[…] This book has succeeded in removing the mask of peace from the
religions and rituals of the Far East.
Sandammeer - Die virtuelle Literaturzeitschrift, October 2002 (Austria)
With their book the Trimondis hereby declare the culture debate open.
We can look forward to a new chapter in the war of cultures as the
begetter of all things. All those who shirk conflict should maintain
their composure and consider that positive cultural developments have
always been the result first and foremost of a clash between competing
cultures, where the relativity of ones own set of beliefs was revealed
and showed the way forward.
Nürnberger Zeitung, 8th November 2002 (Germany)
Victor and Victoria Trimondi provide convincing evidence that the
‘Ahnenerbe’ was the ‘think tank’ of the SS, an ideas factory not only
for esoterics like Wiligut but also for world class academics, most of
them ideologues. […] The SS favoured Buddhism. This will be
unfathomable to the fashionable Buddhists of today since they regard
Buddhism as an international peace movement and the Dalai Lama as its
figurehead. In actual fact Buddhism, seen through the eyes of the SS,
is the perfect candidate.
Evangelische Informationsstelle Kirchen-Sekten-Religionen, November
2002 (Switzerland)
The questions raised by the Trimondis are topical questions relevant to
our time and as such demand answers. Reappraisal, both individual and
collective, of the Nazi past is necessary and, all things considered,
the Trimondis’ book is calculated to do all aficionados of Eastern
mysticism a bitter but necessary service. All those who carefully
peruse the Trimondis’ work will still be able to love the East, but
wholehearted enthusiasm for the East is no longer possible.
Rheinische Post, 27th January 2003 (Germany)
The cross-referencing to the attacks of September 11th is interesting
since the debate over Western fascism and Eastern warrior religions is
echoed in the aggressive warrior myths and teachings, the very sources
of inspiration for religious fundamentalism.
Weltwoche, 7th March 2003 (Switzerland)
More than this the Trimondis’ achievement is to have brought the
Tibetans back down to the level of all peoples: Tibetans too – a
historical fact – have waged war, murdered, slaughtered each other in
internal struggles, even if the Western media have often portrayed it
differently. Depending on how the political wind is blowing Buddhism,
like any other religion, will be seen either as a pacifist path of
enlightenment or as a militant liberation theology. Even if, in the
transfiguring fog of cultural distance, we choose to see things
differently, Buddhism is a religion like any other.
Connection, March 2003 (Germany)
The authors introduce the reader, step by step, to the mania of
National Socialist domination that enlisted the services of top India
experts and scholars of Asian religions as a way of bolstering its
claim to leadership. In justifying their policy of destruction and
conquest the Nazis cited directly from the Bhagavad Gita.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Book review by Prof. Manuel Sarkisyanz
Hitler, Buddha, Krishna: An unholy alliance from the Third Reich until
the present day
(Victor and Victoria Trimondi, HITLER, BUDDHA, KRISHNA, EINE UNHEILIGE
ALLIANZ VOM DRITTEN REICH BIS HEUTE, Wien, Ueberreuter, 2002)
This book can be considered as marking an epoch in the intellectual
history of cross-cultural links of Neo-Fascism. It deals chiefly with
Himmler, Tantric "Buddhism" and Krishna, a "blockbuster" surpassing in
geo-cultural scope by far previous continental books about "aryosophic"
esoterics. (1)
In discussions about "political religion" of "National Socialists"
their notions about India's "primeval Aryan wisdom" had not yet
received sufficient attention of historians. These were supposedly
"archaic" esoterics within SS occultism of the so-called Ancestral
Heritage "Ahnenerbe"), a particular concern not so much for Hitler (who
pragmatically preferred to follow English models (2) but very much for
Heinrich Himmler who headed the SS: In contrast to the "Semitic"
associations of Christianity, a primeval "Aryan" religion was to be
"more appropriate to Germanic nature". Thus Himmler's "Ahnenerbe", the
central institution for systematic construction of an "Aryan" faith,
apparently was meant to receive its "SS-Vatican" in the castle
Wewelsburg, Westphalia (p. 100).
An intellectual father of it became the Dutch philologist Herman Wirth
(18851981). Having initiated, in 1919, the "National Socialist"
movement in the Netherlands, he propagated ever since 1920 the
Germanic-"Aryan" Swastika. Insisting that the Aryans descended from the
polar "Hyperboreans" (who had allegedly inhabited first the lost
Continent of Atlantis and then the Nordic Thule, ("aryosophic" and
supposedly Runic notions, inherited from the Theosophy of Helena
Blavatsky), Wirth maintained that the primordial wisdom from Atlantis
had been preserved (by the "Mahatmas") in Buddhist Tibet. Such
Theosophy was combined even further with Nordic mythology from the Edda
(and with "Runic wisdom") by Rudolf Gorsleben (1883-1930) to the effect
that in Tibet was to have been preserved something of the occult
abilities to dominate nature, abilities once in the possession of the
Arctic "primordial race" (Urrasse) of Aryans. And this became gospel
truth for the occultist faction of Himmler's SS-"Ancestral Heritage".
In particular the SS-"Sturmbannführer" Karl Maria Wiligut (1866-1946),
an Austro-Hungarian colonel (locked up in a psychiatric clinic in
1924-1927), had, under the pseudonym of "Weisthor", that is "Wise
[Nordic God] Thor", influenced Himmler to believe that the refuge of
Aryans from "northernmost Thule", with parapsychological medium-life
"memories" about their inheritance was to be sought below the earth in
Buddhist Tibet. Thus, to "early Buddhism" were attributed particularly
"Aryan qualities" (p. 100, 90). Nevertheless, it came to be doubted
that Buddha's ethos of self-renunciation could possibly be considered
"Aryan". Accordingly, Buddhism was assumed to be a degeneration of the
genuinely Aryan Vedic religion of Power. Meanwhile the warlike Vedic
Aryans had become the pride of certain anti-British Indian
nationalists, after British images of subjugated Indians had attributed
to them effeminate qualities and pragmatically irrelevant
otherworldliness.
Because of pragmatically obvious successes, far greater prestige than
India had in Himmler's Germany triumphant Japan of the Samurai with
their Bushido ethos. (In private Hitler counted the Japanese among the
‘lacquered half monkeys who want to feel the knout’. [3]) And
victorious Japanese militarism had instrumentalized a particular Zen
school of meditation to drill devaluation of life, discipline, will
power and the suppression of emotions. (This went much further than the
British models for strengthening the will power, admiration for which
had a much longer history in Germany (4) Thus Himmler himself
recommended the model of Japan's Samurais to his SS, the "Samurais of
Hitler", the elite of the elites, swayed by lower middle-Class upward
mobility. (And the children of Germany's post-war Economic Miracle
there were, still in 2000, recommended "the Road of the Samurai" for
professional and private "success": pp. 194-195).
It had been the Count Karl Friedrich Dürkheim (no stranger to killing a
family of squirrels for pure joy) who contributed Zen "Buddhist" ethics
to make contempt for life and death in Hitler's Germany intellectually
respectable. Japanese models of sacralization of power through Shinto
mythology impressed Karl Haushofer, the mentor of Hitler's deputy
Rudolf Hess.
However, for practical purposes, there sufficed the Lutheran notion
that all governing authorities ("Obrigkeit") came from God ... It was
in spite of this that SS Chief Himmler promised to get rid of
Christianity ("We must finish with Christianity. This great plague ...
which has weakened us for every conflict.” [5]) But Nietzsche's
declaring that "God is dead" was not enough: Alternatives to the
Christian religion, so "alien to the Nordic race", were required to
give notions inculcated into the SS a metaphysical foundation:
A sacralization of the warrior caste's duties was expected from the
caste ethos of the Bhagavad Gita, the sacralization of race purity
through the Brahmanic Code of Manu. For this the rational findings of
Indology were put "into the service of the irrational" (p. 524),
Indological findings of seriously qualified specialists into the
service of Himmler to elaborate an esoteric mythology for his SS. Thus
Wilhelm Wüst (1901-1993), prominent in the philology of Indo-European
languages, became Curator in Himmler's "Ahnenerbe" ("Ancestral
Heritage") after 1936, 1939 SS-Standartenführer (Lieutenant Colonel)
and the man of confidence of the SS Intelligence Service (SO) at the
University of Munich, in 1941 its Rector. His kind of Indologists made
essential contributions to the "Aryan religion" of the SS as the
central Order of Warriors, acting as if the Aryan faith were both
inherited and constructable (“machbar”). It was to provide cosmogonic
bases for Leadership through archetypes of Vedic gods like Indra and
Varuna.
Consistently with this, Himmler's expedition to Tibet (in 1938/9) was
interested more in its pre-Buddhist religion (Bon) than in Tibetan
Buddhism. It sought proofs that Tibet once sheltered a high "Aryan"
culture and that its Lamas were administering something of primeval
Aryan wisdom (p. 158). Nordic remnants, supposedly going back to
"Thule" of the mythic North, to the Hyperboreans and the "Continent" of
Atlantis, were looked for in Tibet by Himmler's men. And yet this SS
("Ancestral Heritage") expedition to Lhasa was directed by the
qualified Tibetologist Ernst Schäfer (1910-1992), who had previously
participated in an American Tibet expedition. He too was impressed by
the four Swastika ornaments on the throne of Tibet's Regent Reting
Rimpoche. Impressive for the SS expedition was Tibetan furniture made
from parts of human bodies, particularly bones (p. 152f. Skulls and
skin from the corpses of Concentration Camp prisoners of the SS were
subsequently made into "gift articles" [Geschenkartikel].) Buddhist
reminders of the impermanence of all life, of the world of suffering to
be overcome by non-attachment, were "understood" (that is
misunderstood) to suit a "morality" for the Survival of the Fittest, to
suit the will to create a world where the weak would have no right to
survive. Thus the SS race specialist Bruno Beger was deeply impressed
by the Tibetan procedure of cutting dead bodies into pieces for birds'
prey, "one of the most impressive experiences in Tibet's mysterious
capital". (Later Beger organized a collection of skeletons of
extermination Camp victims from Auschwitz, Central Asian Red Army
prisoners of war. For participating in at least 86 murders he was
sentenced to just three years, and that not before 1971 p.135f). What
Hitler stopped was Himmler's plan to use the Tibetans -- after the
model of Lawrence of Arabia -- for a military attack on British India
(p.122). His decision resulted from insight into the impracticality of
this (and from his admiration for the British Master Race).
Hitler was obviously not impressed by alleged military potentialities
of occult abilities to dominate nature -- allegedly preserved in Tibet
-- nor by the "polar powers centred there". This, precisely this, came
to be believed, in Neo-Nazi literature, just after Hitler's "right of
the stronger" turned out to be an illusion of the weaker. Such Fascism,
which according to the Law of the Survival of the Fittest had lost all
rights to survive, did survive by virtue of esoteric mvthology, a
consolation for failure of biology (of social Darwinism).
Thus Baron Giulio Evola (1898-1974) did derive from the Vishnuite
Bhagavad Gita a sacralization of Sadism in terms of the divine will of
destruction of everything mortal, the Endlessness of the Divine meaning
the perennial destruction of everything temporal: Thus the sacralized
sadism of the Kshatrya warrior celebrates the Blood Sacrifice of
Life-transcending the mere perversions of "profane" sadism.
Accordingly, Murder becomes a holy sacrifice (246). Evola's
publications of 1953 and 1961 made him the chief "philosophical
authority", the Guru of today's Black Order of spiritual fascism (257),
of the New Elite proclaiming anew more than merely Hitler's New Order:
It is more explicit about the destruction of modern society. Evola was
calling for precisely this ever since his main work, "The Revolt
against Modernity" of 1935. Nevertheless, in spite of this admiration
for the 55, the Kshatrya Warrior Order, he is but rarely mentioned in
its literature of the 55 although he did influence its self-image
(particularly the "Ancestral Heritage" of the "Grail Mystery" of the
Templars). Better known is his influence on Fascism's "afterthought",
the Italian race legislation since 1937.
Evola's "L'Uome come Potenza" ("The Male as Might") is a glorification
of power generated through sexual energy, following models of Indian
Tantric cults, associated particularly with the Female Energy (Shakti)
of Shiva Rudra and Kali, Indian deities of destruction and
regeneration. Among Evola's "applications" of them was killing –
sacrificing -- the Female (the female principle comprising both
Compassion and Bolshevism) as its energy is to strengthen the Male, the
Aryan Masculinity (p.234) which accumulates its own power by
sacrificing the "Other".
These notions Evola derived from the Vajrayâna School of Tantric
Buddhism. And with concepts from Tantric texts concludes his most
influential work: The concept of Shambhala, symbolized by the Swastika
pointing to, a center of Hyperborean traditions "of Aryan origins."
Images of this mythic realm derive from the Tantric Kalachakra
tradition. Its main texts have been made accessible in the post-war
period, also by Jean Marquès Rivière, a French Sankritist, specialized
in police persecution of secret societies, Masons and Jews in the
semi-Fascist France of 1941-1944.
Of more popular influence in Latin esoteric post-war Fascism was the
Chilean Miguel Serrano (born in 1917): Since 1938 he joined Chile
"National Socialists," and subsequently became their Fuehrer (after
experiences as Chile's ambassador in India and in Communist Balkan
states). In 1978, under the dictatorship of Pinochet, appeared his book
"Hitler esotérico" and, in 1982, "Hitler el último Avatar", then, in
1991, "Manu por el hombre que vendrá". These he called expressions of
"esoteric Hitlerism". To Serrano is attributed the culmination of
SS-mysticism. He assimilated most notions from Himmler's ancestral
Heritage and the writings of Evola. Serrano's books are reported to
circulate now among Skin Heads, Satanists, and Nazi Metal Music fans.
Hitler's birth in 1889 meant for him the beginning of a new Era (p.
425); Hitler was for him more than only a Superman but the Nordic god
Wotan and also Kalki, the last incarnation of Vishnu, and the "Manu of
the Future". For, as an archetype, according to Serrano, Hitler could
not possibly die, and was carried away on an "UFO" (Unidentified Flying
Object) to "Shambhala" (where reside his God-Men: pp. 436, 438). Behind
what this Chilean Nazi offered is essentially Tantric instruction (p.
493). Indeed, he was, like Evola and Marquès-Rivière, practicing
Tantric rituals. And Tantrism meant for Serrano the main "wisdom" of
the Hyperborean (Polar Nordic) Warrior Caste. Following Tantric
"ethics" he supposed the deeds of the SS to be "beyond Good and Evil,"
justifying the extermination of "Lower races" as fulfilment of "cosmic
laws". (Not effect but motivation matters in Tantrism -- the motivation
of most terrible deeds in it can be "Enlightenment" -- which is
potential Power (5A.) And the will to (absolute) Power of the "Aryan"
is, according to Serrano too, generated by erotic vitalism. In fact,
Tantric sex magic is considered to be the "mystical center" of
Serrano's fascism (p. 441), including the Tantric sacrifice of the
Female: Woman was to be killed (at least "symbolically": p.442). In the
Tantric context killing may result to be "unreal". (About the seeming
"unreality" of modern racial genocide on the Black Continental Hannah
Arendt noted: "Native life anyhow looked a mere play of shadows, so
that when European men massacred them [these shadows, the natives],
they somehow were not aware that they committed murder.) (5a)
And the living woman Serrano venerated he associated with the Nordic
god Odin. She was Savitri Devi (Maximiliani Portas, daughter of an
Englishman, born in France in 1905), venerated in the international
Nazi subculture as Hitler's high priestess, "Prophetess of Aryan
Revival". She had evolved from Greater Greece, through Theosophy, to
the race cult of the "genuinely Aryan", that is to the "only surviving
Aryan culture": Brahmanic India. There the Brahman Srimat Swami
Satyananda, President of the Hindu Mission of Calcutta, revealed to her
that Hitler would become the next incarnation of Vishnu. Similarly, the
Pandit Rajawade of Poona identified Hitler with the Chakravartin of the
Vishnu Purana scripture, destined to rule the world, the god Vishnu
previously incarnated in Krishna. And Krishna Mukherji married Savitri
Devi. He recognized the Kshatrya tradition of the Indian epic
Mahabharata in the militancy of Hitler's Germany. Upon its collapse of
1945, Savitri Devi called upon Kali, the Goddess of Destruction, to
destroy those who destroyed Nazi Germany (p. 346f). To this "priestess
of Hitler" the hymns to Kali's fearsome consort Shiva, the male
divinity of "creative destruction" I merged as a "Mantra" with "Heil
Hitler" (pp. 347, 349): For Hitler was to become the coming Kalki (pp.
351, 358), destroyer of those who caused the degeneration of the World
Age. And, in 1958, Savitri Devi came to attribute the sacralization of
the extermination of Jews to the Bhagavad Gita (p. 356) years after
Austria's Lanz von Liebenfels, "the man who gave the ideas to Hitler",
demanded that the Jews become a human sacrifice (p.334).
>From occultism derived such "Aryosophic" predecessors of Nazism as the
Thule Society of the Bavarian capital. And towards the Occult tends
what survives of SS-mythology. The crisis of world economy promoted
Nazism from obscurity into mass politics. And the prosperity that
followed its military collapse pushed it back into obscurity of present
day SS occultism.
Post-war SS mysticism of the Evolas and the Serranos derives its
"Aryanism" more from Indian and Tibetan than from Teutonic sources. In
the wake of the French Revolution the appeal to the Germanic (that is
pre-medieval) past had been directed against the absolutist
restoration, and the encouragement of Indology, of studies about the
wisdom of the Brahmans, served against Democracy. For mass consumption,
Hitler pretended to defend the Occident against the onslaught of the
Asiatics. After this military "defence of the Occident" collapsed, what
survived of the SS-Ancestral Heritage took refuge in the Occult,
increasingly borrowed from Southern Asia: Present day esoteric
Hitlerism is Tantric (p. 441). After Hitler, as if by "meta-electric"
energy, having excluded the left, included Austria, switched on all the
mass media, isolated Germany, ranged the whole of Europe into maximal
tension, and finally brought: about his short circuit (5 B), he was
made to mutate into an archetype of something like divine energy.
Hitler has been converted esoterically into a myth, to be rooted in the
transcendental -- beyond all History. And up to the present day such
esoteric Hitlerism is reported to grow (p. 526). In its subculture the
SS is symbolized by the Black Sun. And its Sieg Heil ("Hail Victory"),
after ending in defeat, was projected into becoming the chief Mantra of
occult Power (p. 399, 411, 442) of the Black Sun, symbolizing the end
of the World in the Nordic Edda, converted into the Solar Power of the
"New Age".
At present, in the mysticism of the traditionally necrophile SS, with
its Skull emblem, associated with mountains of corpses, are venerated
the icons of Violence and Death. Some of the Rock music groups in this
international subculture of Neo-Fascism have CD of 100,000 copies. And
among their titles are: "Born in order to hate"; "Gospel of
Inhumanity". Some of their bands are named "Spear of Longinus" [killer
of Christ] and "Blood Axis", something of Satanism evolving into Pop
culture, into the Rock music of Skin Heads (p. 451). According to
Goodrick-Clarke, the Neo-Nazi Satanists and their Heavy Metal Rock
groups among the Skin Heads in Europe and America are associated with
"Kshatrya" notions about "Aryan" India's warriors. The song "Hitler as
Kalki [future incarnation of the god Vishnu]" was created by the
composer and rock music star known as "David Tibet". He calls himself
"sympathizer of the Devil" - in the context of Tantric "Buddhism" (p.
451f). In the Satanist literature the Nordic "Thule" and the SS
Ancestral Heritage have become metaphors of the Underworld -- with
Heinrich Himmler as a Satanist adept. (A political joke from the Third
Reich prophesied that -- after its final victory -- Himmler would
become Underworld Marshall when Goering, the Reich’s Marshall, shall
have been promoted to world Marshal.) According to Trimondi, even in
purely Satanist circles have been absorbed ideas of the Fascist myth
makers, of Evola, Miguel Serrano and Savitri Devi. After all, the place
of Satan came since more than two centuries to be occupied by nefarious
secret societies. And the book "Secret Societies and their Might in the
20th Century" by Jan van Helsing, appearing in 1993, was banned in
Germany within three years under a law against inciting the public
("Volksverhetzung"). However, in 1998 he published "The Mysteries of
the Black Sun". Thus, mainly through him Esoterics have become "the
most important route of penetration for extreme rightist cosmovision"
(p. 398).
Thus the claim that the Third Reich had been conceived by German
Templar Knights, as well as by Tibetan lamas, is no longer news. News
is that the "gasoline" for the Neo-Nazis UFO's (Unidentified Flying
Objects) shall henceforth consist of "Vril" [Virile?] Energy. Indeed,
"Vril" is meant to be the "Metaphysical Gasoline" from the Atlantis,
the lost Continent, particularly for the UFO's from a "National
Socialist" engineering firm ... All this according to Wilhelm Landig's
creation, titled "Idols against Thule, a novel full of reality". His
Thule Trilogy (from the Vienna of 1971, 1980 and 1991) elaborated
notions of Helena Blavatsky and of Evola. It is considered a mixture of
science fiction, pseudo-scholarly monograph and "National Socialist"
history on a mythical pattern (p. 392f). In contrast, more recent
publications of SS mysticism are indebted more directly to Tibetan
Tantric notions (pp. 402f). "Notions about Might and Supermanhood (Maha
Sidha) from Tantric Buddhism ... could supply attractive doctrines for
a world wide Kshatrya culture, sacralized techniques ... to convert a
soldier into a holy killing machine. This is why the SS Ancestral
Heritage and surviving "SS mysticism" attempt to give themselves points
of support in Tantric notions (p. 531). It is Tantrism that had been
called, by its English advocate, "The way to Power."
Particularly in regard to such present day SS esoterics the Trimondi's
brilliant book has unusual scope. It takes the place of an entire
library. Its bibliography alone would be worth the price of the book.
To read it is a genuine intellectual experience. The authors make rich
use of Tantric texts of the Kâlachakra School.
Yet, it has to be reminded that the Kâlachakra System remains marginal
even in Tibetan Lamaism, just as Lamaism remains marginal in the
Buddhist world as a whole. Helmut Hoffmann (otherwise cited in the
book) has pointed out Tibetan historical resistance against Tantrism;
the rise of Tibet's dominant "Yellow Church" did involve reactions
against it. [AB-1] Hoffman had called attention to Iranian dualist --
that is non-Buddhist -- origins of precisely the Kâlachakra. (6)
Although the authors rightly point out the primacy of compassion in the
social ethics of Buddhism and themselves mention that "the Kâlachakra
Tantra is in sharp contradiction to the originally pacifist tradition
of Buddhism" (p. 513), they generalize from the Tantric Kâlachakra
about Buddhism as a whole (p. 254). Thus in the heading "Buddhism as a
doctrine of Power" (p. 254), as well as in the reference to militarist
Buddhism, by "Buddhism" is meant its Tantric degeneration.
Unfortunately, Volker Zotz's (author of a book about Buddhism in German
culture) attribution of "amorality" to Buddhism "from its very
beginnings" is repeated uncritically (pp. 456ff), particularly in the
unfortunate subtitle "Foundations of Buddhist thought and the ideology
of National Socialism" (p. 454).[AB-2]
Thus the main problem with the book is its attempt to characterize
Buddhism as a whole, its conclusions from particularities of SS mystery
literature to generalities about Tibetan culture. In reality, the
qualities attributed by "National Socialist" thinkers to Buddhism are
no basis for its characterization, no matter how convincing points of
departure Fascism finds in Tantric phenomena of Buddhism's decline. In
fact, the Kâlachakra similarities to esoteric Fascism (p. 463) came
about by Fascist imitations of Tantric categories of Vitalism and
Power, which in themselves had been inherent in Nazi sentiment (not
without impacts from Bavarian folk-vitalism). Even the famous [Fascist]
Tibetologist's, Tucci's rhapsodies about "heroic Buddhism" (p. 193)
cannot be accepted uncritically, just as War Sermons (usually on the
text of Christ bringing not Peace but the Sword) could never
characterize Christianity as a whole. (Logically Fascists have rejected
its message while emulating its institution: the Church with its
Hierarchy and Discipline.) Obviously the SS's film about its expedition
to the Dalai Lama's realm (pp. 155f) showed only what its chief desired
to be seen, just as the exiled 14th Dalai Lama's Buddhist messages to
the democratic world leave out what has been undemocratic in Lamaism.
To such present day uncritically unilateral images of exclusively
humanitarian and pacifist Tibet this book is a most healthy corrective.
Thus the authors point out that a public discussion about the Buddhist
Tantrism of Tibet by the Dalai Lama would prevent its misuse and
distortion by SS esoterics. But they can be easily misunderstood to the
effect that there was nothing humanitarian and nothing pacifical about
the Dalai Lama's realm, considering that among his friends was the SS
auxiliary Jean Marquès Rivière as well as Guru Shoko Asahara who (in
1995) caused poison gas injury to more than 5000 victims in the Tokyo
subway -- as sacrifice to Shiva Rudra-Chakrin, apocalyptic world ruler
in the Kâlachakra Tantra (pp. 505, 518). Such an "Aryan Priest-King" of
post-war Nazi mysticism (p. 469f) -- and not the specifically Buddhist
universal ruler (Chakkavattî) is rightly compared with the Japanese
Tenno -- and wrongly with the ideal Buddhist emperor Ashoka of the
third century B.C. (pp. 469f).
Most absurdly, Himmler's Indologist Wüst and the Fascist Baron Evola,
as well as protagonists of postwar SS mysticism, saw precisely in
Ashoka the great power political model ... of "the Aryan Priest-King".
Their absurdities about Ashoka should have been contradicted most
definitely. After all, he recorded his unforgettable regret even about
"one thousandth part of those who were slain". "And this has been
recorded in order that ... whoever they may be, may not think of new
conquests as worth achieving ... through arrows." And that the only
"real conquest is a Conquest through Dhamma [force of Morality."
Ashoka's pride was that he "achieved conquest through Dhamma ... a
conquest flavoured with love” (7). And yet, with Ashoka remaining
unmentioned in the context of oriental ideals of universal empire, the
Chakkavattî/Chakravartin (prototype of Buddhist kingship) appears under
the subtitle "Apotheosis of the Führer" (p. 328). Among the numerous
references to this Indian embodiment of absolute power remains
unmentioned the Chakkavattî-Sutta, one of the earliest Buddhist texts,
stating that to the Chakkavattî the East, South, West and North shall
submit voluntary: He shall declare that no living being is to be
injured. (8) In contrast, the Chakravartin meant by the authors is
Kalki from the Brahmanic Vishnu Purana (with reference to whom
concludes Evola's "Revolt against Modernity"), Aryan world ruler,
symbolized by the Swastika (p. 256). In reality, Kalki in India and the
Chakravartin in Buddhist Burma had inspired politically opposite
phenomena too:
It was precisely from Kalki that same Pariah groups expected their
emancipation against the caste hierarchy. In same rural areas Gandhi
was identified with such a future incarnation of Vishnu. About the
Chakkavattî Sutta's description of the ideal future state reminded in
1959 U Nu (Burma's Prime Minister 1947-1958 and 1960-1962), with
reference to his anti-imperialist Buddhist socialism. (9) In the name
of the Chakkavattî (Burmanized as "Setkya Min") repeatedly revolted
Burma's peasants (as recorded after 1837). With this ideal Buddhist
ruler was identified the central figure of the Burmese Peasant War of
1930-1932. (10)
This shows how much more correctly than by Fascist Indologists and
their subsequent esoterics was Buddhism understood by Hitler's
inspirer, Houston Stewart Chamberlain, and the Führer's rival
Ludendorff. Chamberlain saw that Buddhism “was moved by humanitarian
reverie, proclaiming the equality of all human beings” (10a).
Ludendorff reminded that it "preached self-extinction ... spiritual and
bodily disarmament" (p. 295), both comprehending its ethos better than
Himmler's Professor Wüst and Mussolini's Baron Evola. A "Duce from
Bengal" can be seen in Subhas Chandra Bose (pp. 93) only disregarding
that a Soviet alliance would have been his first choice. As vanished
Redeemer he "is biding his time ... Millions of Indians believe ... he
is hiding in Moscow, being instructed in the principles of revolution
... Eagerly they await[ed] him ..." (11)
And archetypically less remotely from Communism than from Fascism led
historically that "Gnosis", Satanizations of which are inherited in
Political Science since Eric Voegelin (and echoed on p. 537): By
"Gnosis" is usually meant its Manichean current. In fact, its vision of
all material world, with all established institutions, being in the
power of Evil, stimulated revolt rather than conservation of the
established order. And that class distinctions and hierarchies have no
meaning at all for the truly Initiated is among the messages of the
Bhagavad Gita too. In the Brahman and in the [despised] cook of dog
meat the wise ones behold the same. Already here [on earth] is Heaven
won by those whose mind rests upon this Equality ... That they are rich
and noble think those blinded by ignorance. (12)
That the SS Chief invoked one passage from this Song Divine is no more
a reflection upon this scripture (that was being invoked again and
again by India's social reformers -- not only in pacifist Gandhism (13)
but also in "Hinduized Communism” (14) than the "socialist" name of
Hitler's party is a reflection upon Socialism. It was not so much that
Savitri Devi found in the Bhagavad Gita principles that lend themselves
for a convincing integration into SS ideology (p. 360); it was rather
that she insisted on having found them. Her conclusions are not covered
by the texts she quoted (p.357), about fulfilling duty without regard
for the outcome, about a just fight, about Heaven for the fallen
warriors and the Earth for the victorious ones. Actually, the texts
this "Priestess of Hitler" emphasized lend themselves in general to
hopeless, heroic resistance against powers of this world, resistance
that has been much less offered by Fascists (under whom the weak had no
claim to survival) than by anti-Fascists with their faith in a world
that shall belong to the weak. (15)
On the other hand, not to every Professor is given the character of
professing convictions: Thus it is more the adjustment of certain
German Indologists to financial incentives offered by 88 institutions
than "affinities" of the Gita and of Buddhism to Fascism that is proved
by 88 appropriations of "Oriental" thought.
The weakest text in the book might be that "a Buddhist dissolves his
Ego for the 'Liberation' of all suffering beings and a National
Socialist for Nation and Race, but this could again and again in the
history of Buddhism mean the precept of killing out of compassion and
wisdom" (p. 458).
SOURCE REFERENCES
1) Jean-Michael Angebert, The Occult and the Third Reich (New York,
1974); François Ribadeau Dumas, Hitler et la sorcellerie (Paris, 1975);
RR Carmin, "Guru" Hitler, Die Geburt des Nationalsozialismus aus dem
Geist von Mystik und Magie (Zürich, 1985); Jean Robin, Hitler, I'élu du
dragon (Paris, 1987)
2) Hitler's speech of 28. April 1939: Deutscher Kurzwellensender;
Hitler, Monologe im Führerhauptquartier, edit. W. Jochmann (Hamburg,
1980), pp. 48, 62 f.; W. Maser, Das Regime. Alltag 1933-1945 (Manchen,
1983), p. 259; J.H. Voigt, "Hitler und Indien": Vierteljahreshefte für
Zeitgeschichte, IX (1971), pp. 33, 49
3) Hitler, Speech of 22. August 1939 to the supreme commanders; L.P.
Lochner, What about Germany? (New York, 1942), p. 3
4) Gerwin Strobl, The Germanic Isle. Nazi perceptions of Britain
(Cambridge, 2000), pp. 41, 42
5) Heinrich Himmler, Geheimreden und andere Ansprachen (Frankfurt,
1974), p. 159: Speech of 9th. June 1942
5a). Hannah Arendt, Elemente und Ursprünge totaler Herrschaft
(Frankfurt, 1955), pp. 307, 313
5A). S.B. Dasgupta, An introduction to Tantric Buddhism (Calcutta,
1958), p. 179 f; John Blofeld, The Way of Power (London, 1970)
5B) "Die Linke ausgeschaltet, Osterreich eingeschaltet, die
Massenmedien gleichgeschaltet, Deutschland isoliert, ganz Europa in
Spannung versetzt und schließlich den Kurzschluss erzeugt."
6) Helmut Hoffmann, Die Religionen Tibets (Freiburg B, 1956), p. 58
ff., 119 f., 163; Hoffmann, "Das Kâlachakra, die letzte Phase des
Buddhismus in Indien": Saeculum, XV/2 (1964), p. 128
7) Ashoka's 13th Rock Edict: D.R Bhandarkar, Asoka (Calcutta 1925), pp.
300-303; J. Bloch, Les inscriptions d'Asoka (Paris, 1950), pp. 125-132
8) Cakkavatti-Sîhanâda-Sutta, Diaha Nikâva, XXVI, 6: Translation by
Rhys Davids, Sacred Books of the East, IV (London, 1957), p. 63f
Monier-Williams, Brahmanism and Hinduism. (London, 1889), p. 114;
Bharatan Kumarappa, introduction to: M.K. Gandhi, Hindu Dharma
(Ahmedabad, 1950), p. VIII; U Nu's Speech of November 16th, 1959 before
the Anti-Fascist People's Freedom League (Burmese typescript given by U
Nu to the author), pp. 17f, largely reprinted in Bama-hkit of 17. XI
1959, p. 8; Sarkisyanz, Buddhist Backgrounds of the Burmese Revolution
(The Hague, 1965), p. 224
10) Cf. Maurice Collis, Trials in Burma (London, 1938), pp. 129, 273f.
10a) Houston Stewart Chamberlain, Briefwechsel mit Kaiser Wilhelm II
(Munich, 1929), Vol. 11 p.152
11) J. A. Michener, Voice of Asia (New York, 1952), p. 265; of. NA
Chadhuri, "Subhas Chandra Bhose, his legacy and legend": Pacific
Affairs (1955), p. 356. All italics are mine.
12) Bhagavad Gita, V, 18f; XVI; 12-17; XIII, 29: translation by R Garbe
(Leipzig, 1905), pp. 94, 140f, 132
13) W. Roland Scott, Social ethics of modern Hinduism (Calcutta, 1953),
p. 109: "Gandhi maintained that non-violence was... a central teaching
of the Gita" (sic); "the Gita ... does not teach, according to his
opinions, violence": Wilhelm Mahlmann, Mahatma Gandhi, der Mann, sein
Werk und seine Wirkung (Tabingen, 1950), p. 140
14) H.S. Sinha, Communism and Gita, A philosophico-ethical study
(Delhi, 1979), pp. 264, 262: "The Gita would always ... shake hand
[sic] with communism and bring out a workable synthesis...", "a
valuational synthesis of these two systems can save humanity..."
15) There was no Nazi Leningrad that held out against a siege lasting
nine hundred days of near starvation (in 19411944). On the Fascist
side there was no Madrid that withstood more than two years of almost
daily bombardments by aviation and artillery (in 1936/8); no [Basque]
fishery launch !hat resisted an enemy battleship during an entire hour
(on 5. March 1931) before sinking itself (having received about 200
impacts of naval cannon): It was but the Ocean that extinguished the
fire of its last machine gun. (Sarria, De arrantzales a gudaris del Mar
[Bermeo, Vizcaya, n.n.], p. 108)
Manuel Sarkisyanz (born 1923) had been a subject of the Shah of Iran.
He studied at the University of Tehran and then at the University of
Chicago. There, he wrote his first book, “Russia and the Messianism of
the Orient”. Upon its publication in German he was immediately invited
to Germany – initially as visiting professor in Freiburg und then in
Kiel. Hs main interests lie in the comparative history of independence
movements. Among his dozen of books are “History of the Oriental
Peoples of the Russian Empire” (in German), “Rizal (national hero of
the Philippines) and Republican Spain”, “Buddhist background of the
Burmese Revolution”. His publication on historiography as apology for
British rule in Burma (Ohio University Press) has also appeared in the
Burmese language. The books of Sarkisyanz on the “American Resurgence
in Peru” and on “Felipe Carrillo, the ‘Red’ Apostle of the Mayas” were
published in both German and Spanish. The latter is now being
translated into the language of Mayas of Yucatán (Mexico) where the
author now lives most of the year.
_______________
American-Buddha Librarian's Comments:
[AB-1] Tantra is not peculiar to the Kalachakra. All four lineages of
Tibetan Buddhism do tantra. Yes, there were reactions by the other
lineages' lamas against the "Yellow Church," but not against tantra.
All the lineages are basically the same as to doctrine, which is vague
at best in all four. What is enlightenment? Don't ask them! Everyone
thinks their own lama is enlightened, but nobody else is. Claiming to
be enlightened is simply a matter of chutzpah: your guys are and their
guys aren't. The only real question is, "Who will rule the country,
the Gelugs, Sakyas, Kagyus or Nyingmas?"
[AB-2] Was it moral for Mahakassapa to launch a huge power grab while
the Buddha's body was still warm in the grave? Was it moral for him to
name himself THE authority to establish "the truth" of the dharma which
the Buddha said was everywhere, when Buddha refused to name a
successor? Was it moral for him to bring charges against Ananda for
not getting enlightened and stepping on the Buddha's robe while he was
sewing it, forcing him to get enlightened overnight? Was it moral for
him to politicize the Buddha's teachings, and write them down after the
Buddha expressly forbade it? Was it moral for him to cause a huge
schism in the sangha and banish the so-called "heretics" to the forest?
Yes, Buddhism was immoral from the very beginning, if you count
Mahakassapa and the Buddhist Councils as the beginning. Certainly,
Buddhism reflects very little of the Buddha's morality as expressed in
his rejection of tradition, authority, hierarchy and asceticism.
Further, is it "moral" to renounce the world and seek "compassion" in
one's own enlightenment? Oh, sure, after you get enlightened, if
you're lucky at the moment of death or hopefully in the bardo, you're
going to come back and save humanity! The best you can say is that
Buddhism is ignorant of the realities of life and death. I don't think
"immoral" is unfair. What's "moral" is to serve humanity now, in this
life. Show me the Buddhist charity before Asians came to the West and
learned what the word "charity" means for the first time. As to the
smaller Buddhist community of Tibetan Buddhists, certainly sewing
people into leather bags and cooking them in the sun is not moral.
Cutting people's limbs off for petty criminal offenses is not moral.
Having sex with little girls is not moral. Brutally subjugating a
peasant population is not moral. Demanding total subservience to
tradition and authority is not moral.
Well, at least you can't say I was "uncritical.""
Geir
Geir a écrit :
> What I want to say is that Trimondis don't have the whole picture and
> this is just an understatment. All of France was Fascist during the war
> at 95%. The world's main scholar on Tibetan Buddhism was a Fascist :
> Giuseppe Tucci. The links to Buddhism exist whether we want it or not
> and doing without is useless because that's what it is. All of the
> truth since WW II is thus a lie and useless to try to contiune. The
> Fascist influence must be acknoweldged now.
>
>
> "HITLER, BUDDHA, KRISHNA -- AN UNHOLY ALLIANCE FROM THE THIRD REICH TO
> THE PRESENT DAY
>
>
> by Victor and Victoria Trimondi
>
> (Ueberreuter Verlag ? Vienna ? 2002)
>
> The Nazi "myth makers" were especially fascinated by the Far East. It
> was there - more so than in the cultural roots of Europe - that they
> hoped to find the foundations of a "political theology", which the
> gigantic regime which was the Third Reich could use as its metaphysical
> basis. In the philosophies, mythologies, visions and dogmas as well as
> in the religious practices and texts of the spiritual traditions Asia
> had to offer they found the models for glorifying war, for the
> deification of the "F?quot; and the white race. They discovered the
> spiritual remnants of a long-lost indo-Aryan and anti-Semitic primeval
> religion which they now wanted to reconstruct in the sign of the
> swastika. Fascinating portraits of the "Fathers of the Nazi Church".
>
> Recent years have seen a marked rise in public interest in National
> Socialism, with fresh research carried out and new interpretations
> arrived at. Hitler?s private life and his relations with women continue
> to occupy the media. Noteworthy too is the growing attention being
> given to interpretations of Nazism as a ?political religion? and a
> ?cult movement?. It is less widely known, however, that the content and
> structure and foundation of a ?Nazi Religion? were often discussed
> within the SS in general and it?s Ahnenerbe [Forefathers Heritage
> Society] in particular. The SS, headed by Heinrich Himmler, considered
> itself to be the ?advance guard of German research into religion. All
> the leading figures in this ?religion smithy? based their work on the
> assumption that a racially pure Aryan faith had existed in prehistoric
> times and should therefore be rediscovered and resurrected.
>
> After sifting through archival material, secondary literature and Nazi
> documents the authors have been able to demonstrate that this
> restoration of an Aryan religion drew on ideas, philosophies,
> mythologies, visions, dogmas and sacred practices pertaining to
> traditional Oriental belief systems. A coterie of fascist cultural
> scholars sprang up asserting that Buddhism, the Vedas, the Puranas, the
> Upanishads, the Bhagavad Gita, yoga and even Tantrism were intellectual
> remnants of a vanished, global, indo-Aryan, anti-Semitic religion.
> There were also borrowings from Tibetan culture and especially from
> Japanese Zen and Samurai traditions. The archaic cultural legacy of a
> despotic and warlike Orient provided Nazi ideologues with their
> theories for:
>
> the apotheosis of the ?F?
>
> a social caste system based on race
>
> the enshrinement of war and warriors
>
> mastery over ones feelings
>
> the manipulation of consciousness
>
> the political exploitation of symbols and rituals
>
> the significance of archaic sacrificial rites
>
> The book has two sections. The first focuses on religious and political
> activity within the SS-Ahnenerbe. The aspects of Eastern religions that
> were influencing Nazi thought were discussed and debated from an
> esoteric as well as an academic stance since Heinrich Himmler, the
> Society?s leader, encouraged both approaches to the subject. The
> authors were surprised to uncover here discussions on:
>
> Incarnation
>
> Karma law
>
> Buddhist meditation
>
> Samurai ethics
>
> Bhagavad Gita warrior mysticism
>
> Hitler as sacred ruler of the world (Chakravartin)
>
> Truly astonishing is the extent to which Himmler?s world view ?think
> tank? applied itself so assiduously and comprehensively and with such
> foresight to the subject. This section of the book also studies the
> Nazi-Tibet-Connection.
>
> The second section sets out the fateful legacy left by the SS-Ahnenerbe
> and offers an insight into post-war religious neo-Fascism. We are
> confronted here with an occult subculture wielding substantial power, a
> school of thought in which myths, religious paradigms, dogmas,
> conspiracy theories, esoteric doctrines, superstition, visions,
> illusions and the stuff of fables and science fiction all merged so
> seamlessly with Nazi ideologies and Nazi history that they could no
> longer be distinguished one from the other. The Indo-Tibetan element,
> however, is sufficiently prominent to justify talk of ?Indian teachings
> with National Socialist content?. Hitler appears here as an avatar, the
> incarnation of the Indian god Krishna, the Bodhisattva, the
> Chakravartin (sacred ruler of the world). The second section also
> considers the interest shown by fascists in the Tibetan Kalachakra
> Tantra ritual.
>
> Who are the key exponents of theories featured in the book?
>
> ?Hitler, Buddha, Krishna? sets out the biographies and ideas of
> important Nazi ideologists, highlighting the Asian and in particular
> the Buddhist influence on their thought and vision. Pre-1945
> personalities covered are:
>
> Heinrich Himmler, SS Reich Commander, architect of mass murder and
> admirer of Asian philosophy. A quotation from Himmler: ?I marvel at the
> wisdom of the founders of Indian religions.? Himmler was a follower of
> the Buddhist doctrine of Karma and incarnation.
>
> Walther W?S colonel, curator of SS-Ahnenerbe, vice chancellor of
> Munich University, Orientalist. W?s to be viewed as the driving
> force behind the SS-Ahnenerbe?s endeavours to forge a religion. He
> operated on the assumption that the Nazi religion under construction
> should be rooted in the Vedic and Buddhist writings of India.
>
> Founder of the ?German Faith Movement? and later SS captain Jakob
> Wilhelm Hauer. Scholar of Indian culture and Sanskrit expert, he drew
> on Bhagavad Gita and Buddhist texts in an attempt to elaborate the
> typology of an invincible war machine.
>
> SS brigadier Karl Maria Wiligut (?Himmler?s Rasputin?), occultist in
> the SS-Ahnenerbe. He claimed to be in spiritual contact with Tibetan
> Lamaist monasteries.
>
> SS Tibetan researchers Ernst Sch䦥r and Bruno Beger saw Lamaism as a
> treasury in which the core Aryan knowledge was stored. The book also
> looks at the relationship of Sven Hedin to the Nazi regime and Hitler.
>
> Japan expert, geopolitician and Deutsche Akademie President Karl
> Haushofer. He emphasised the appropriateness of Shinto state fascism as
> a model for National Socialism.
>
> The German teachers of Zen Buddhism, Eugen Herrigel and Karlfried
> D?im, propounded a link between National Socialism and Zen
> philosophy.
>
> The fascist philosopher Julius Evola, whose ideas were much more
> influential on the SS than first thought and whose traditionalist
> system of theories is based largely on Buddhist and Tantric doctrines.
>
> The SS mystic Otto Rahn and the neo-Buddhist circles he frequented in
> France. Their influence led Rahn to claim that the ?Grail of the
> Cathars? was a ?symbol of the soul adopted [!] straight from Buddhism?.
>
>
> The French specialist on the Orient, Jean Marqu賭Rivi貥, head of the
> French secret police (S.S.S.) and SS collaborator. One of the leading
> western scholars on Tibetan Kalachakra Tantra.
>
> The first part of the book also deals with the anti-Buddhist movement
> in the Third Reich. The chapter entitled ?Collaborators, condoners or
> victims?? considers the role of Buddhists in the Nazi period.
>
> The protagonists of religious neo-Nazism are studied too, with
> particular attention being paid to the effect on their thinking of
> Indo-Tibetan ideas and philosophy.
>
> ?Hitler?s High Priestess?, Savitri Devi. Was instrumental in the
> consecration of Hitler after the war and the establishment of National
> Socialism as a quasi Indian sect.
>
> The inventors of the ?Nazi mysteries?, French occultists Jacques
> Bergier and Louis Pauwels, and the Englishman Trevor Ravenscroft. All
> three authors saw National Socialism inextricably linked to the
> Indo-Tibetan Shambhala myth.
>
> The ?Black Sun? ideologues, Viennese authors Wilhelm Landig and Rudolf
> J. Mund, and Jan van Helsing. These writers work from the premise that
> Tibetan / Mongolian Lamaism and the esoteric teachings of National
> Socialism both have their source in Atlantis.
>
> Miguel Serrano, Chilean diplomat and founder of ?esoteric Hitlerism?.
> Serrano is an expert in Tantric doctrines. The cornerstones of his
> system of racist theories are Indo-Tibetan in origin.
>
> Why the title of the book: ?Hitler, Buddha, Krishna? ?
>
> Even before the outbreak of war attempts were made by a number of the
> above-mentioned Nazi ideologues to identify Hitler as the latest link
> in an Indo-Aryan chain of divine kings and philosophers. Indian
> religion founders such as the ?Buddha? and Indian hero divinities like
> ?Krishna? were proclaimed pioneers and heralds of the dictator. This
> apotheosis reached its climax in the work of the Chilean diplomat
> Miguel Serrano, who revered Hitler as the 10th avatar of the god
> Krishna/Vishnu. For Serrano the German dictator is immortal and will
> reappear as ?avenger? to bestow global supremacy on the Aryan race in
> an apocalyptic war to end all wars.
>
> What did Nazi ideologues look for in India, and what did they find ?
>
> In their eyes the classical culture of India was a reserve in which
> knowledge of an Aryan stem civilisation was supposed to have survived.
>
>
> Indian writings furnished them with the religious bases for a cruel
> warrior religion and an inhuman ethic for the conduct of war.
>
> They saw the Indian caste system as providing a social orientation
> model that fitted their racialist ideology.
>
> They linked the Indian idea of the ?global ruler? to their own ?F?> principle? and applied it to Hitler.
>
> >From the Tantric systems of India and Tibet they developed their own
> fascist sexual theory.
>
> What was the Nazi ideologues? particular interest in the Bhagavad Gita
> ?
>
> Heinrich Himmler is said to have always carried a copy of the Bhagavad
> Gita on his person. He compared Hitler with the god Krishna who
> features in the poetical work.
>
> The Bhagavad Gita was read like a catechism for the SS. Consequently
> many of the above-mentioned Nazi ideologues referred continually to
> this Indian war manual.
>
> The Bhagavad Gita?s philosophy is used by rightwing extremists after
> the war to legitimise Auschwitz.
>
> What was the Nazi ideologues? particular interest in Buddhism ?
>
> In their eyes Buddha was an ?Aryan? and Buddhism an ?Aryan doctrine?.
>
> They emphasised the warlike and virile elements of Buddhism.
>
> Nazi ideologues hold Buddhism to be a doctrine pertaining solely to
> power.
>
> Buddhist meditation and yoga techniques are recommended for the
> spiritual discipline of the ?warrior?.
>
> What did Nazi ideologues look for in Tibet and what did they find ?
>
> The Nazi ideologues were convinced that remnants of an original Aryan
> race had survived in Tibet. They organised an expedition to locate
> these vestiges.
>
> They believed the ancient Aryan knowledge to be preserved in Lamaist
> texts and in Tibetan monasteries. It was intended that SS-Ahnenerbe
> Tibetologists decipher this knowledge using translation and text
> analysis.
>
> The Tibet researchers of the SS were in thrall to the magic, occult
> nature of the Lamaist culture. The occultist within the Ahnenerbe even
> believed themselves to be in spiritual contact with Tibetan lamas.
>
> The two leaders of the SS Tibet expedition, Ernst Sch䦥r and Bruno
> Beger, were both especially drawn to the morbid, warlike elements of
> Tibetan Buddhism.
>
> The Himalayas were a key objective for Nazi mountaineers.
>
> What did Nazi ideologues look for in Japan and what did they find ?
>
> Japanese Samurai war philosophy (Bushido) fascinated the SS. Himmler
> wrote the foreword for a brochure on Samurais, 52,000 copies of which
> were distributed throughout the SS.
>
> A variety of themes connected to the Samurai tradition were discussed
> within the SS.
>
> German Japanologists and Japanese scholars of German culture made
> ?theological? comparisons between the National Socialist ?F?> principle? and the Shinto belief of ?imperial divinity?.
>
> The German protagonists of Zen Buddhism, Eugen Herrigel and Karlfried
> D?im, tried to bind together Zen philosophy and National
> Socialism.
>
> What do the Kalachakra Tantra and the Shambhala have to do with
> National Socialism ?
>
> SS-Ahnenerbe researchers were especially interested in the Kalachakra
> Tantra.
>
> The Shambala vision recorded in the Kalachakra Tantra has become a
> central pillar in the mythology of religious neo-Nazism.
>
> Many of the themes raised in the Kalachakra Tantra (a cyclical view of
> the world, global domination, the use of super weapons, magic and
> ritual in sexual practices etc) are key themes in religious fascism.
>
> The Kalachakra Tantra challenges the monotheistic religions, all three
> of which are Semitic in origin. For this reason it was harnessed by
> extreme rightwing, anti-Semitic circles for their racist propaganda.
>
> Contact between the XIVth Dalai Lama, as the supreme Kalachakra master,
> and representatives of religious fanaticism and former SS men.
>
> Which philosophical themes are treated in the book ?
>
> National Socialism as ?political religion?
>
> The attempt to consecrate the ?F?, the ?race? and the ?war?
>
> The creation of a National Socialist ?divine warrior? and the
> mythologizing of the SS
>
> The sacrifices represented by the Second World War and Auschwitz as
> foundation stones for a Nazi religion
>
> The phantasm of religious neo-Fascism
>
> A comparison of Asian religions with the Nazi world view
>
> Why is the book topical ?
>
> Religious neo-Nazism, as an extension and development of the Indo-Aryan
> religious construct forged by the SS-Ahnenerbe, is spreading to other
> countries at an alarming rate.
>
> The ?importing? of Eastern religion systems is increasing rapidly
> without prior investigation being carried out into their inhuman
> content, atavistic practices, political power aspirations and warlike
> history.
>
> Religious fundamentalism and fascist totalitarianism have many things
> in common and tend to join forces. Acutely topical concepts such as
> ?divine warrior?, ?theocracy? and ?war of religions? are also present
> in the neo-Nazi model. The sources of inspiration for these concepts
> stem less from the ?Semitic? religions (Judaism, Christianity, Islam)
> than from Asian faiths.
>
> Who is this book aimed at ?
>
> Anyone who has even a peripheral interest in the ?Hitler issue? and the
> history of the ?Third Reich? is presented here with a new
> interpretation of National Socialism based on material hitherto
> overlooked or otherwise ignored.
>
> Furthermore, the book targets all those readers who feel in any way
> connected to the issues of religion, conflict between cultures,
> fundamentalism, religious terror, ?divine warriors? and Eastern
> spirituality (Lamaism, Buddhism, Tantrism, Zen etc), cultural
> philosophy, politics, psychology, esoterics, ideological criticism and
> cultural studies in general.
>
> See also:
>
> Book Review of ?Hitler-Buddha-Krishna? Fascist Occultism and it?s Close
> Relationship to Buddhist Tantrism
>
> Asia as a topos of Fear and Desire for Nazis and extreme rightists in
> the case of Asian Studies in Sweden:
> http://orient4.orient.su.se/personal/tobias.hubinette/asianists.pdf
>
> Press reviews of "Hitler, Buddha, Krishna" Frankfurter Allgemeine
> Zeitung, 19th May 2003 (Germany)
>
> The combination of Buddhist, Hindu and neo-Nazi mysticism on the one
> hand and right-wingers? blatant propensity to violence on the other
> presents a real danger to the free world, in the opinion of the
> authors. They see their treatise as contributing to an open and
> detailed discussion of the content of imported Asian religions. The
> objective of the Trimondis? work is as simple as it is
> all-encompassing: it aims to assist in the salvation of the value
> system of Western civilisation.
>
> Der Standard, 31st August 2002 (Austria)
>
> A new book of provocative theses is confronting head-on the success
> enjoyed by Eastern religions in the West: in their book Hitler, Buddha,
> Krishna Victor and Victoria Trimondi describe what they perceive as an
> unholy alliance stretching from the Third Reich to the present day.? ?
> ?The Dalai Lama: many people await his appearances in eager
> anticipation, yet in the opinion of Victor and Victoria Trimondi his
> message of peace is founded on problematic rituals.
>
> Der Standard, 5th September 2002 (Austria)
>
> In the occult circles of the extreme right top-level National
> Socialists have long been conferring their own interpretations on the
> religions of the Far East: Satanist sects and Nazi heavy metal bands
> think nothing of reducing the tenets of these religions to war and
> ?final struggle?. Hitler, Buddha, Krishna provides the material for
> this thesis ? and ample food for discussion.
>
> Rheinischer Merkur, 5th September 2002 (Germany)
>
> Spirituality and struggle - in their latest book Victor and Victoria
> Trimondi have assembled a mass of facts affording new insights into the
> intellectual fundaments of Eastern religions. The material extends from
> the Kshatriya philosophy and its direct association of war and
> spirituality to the Kalachakra Tantra and the idea of a worldwide
> ?warrior religion?.
>
> Bild, 19th September 2002 (Germany)
>
> They were obsessed with the idea of a party, a people, an empire, a
> F?and ? a church! This is the revelation of a new book [Hitler,
> Buddha, Krishna]. Adolf Hitler and his SS chief Heinrich Himmler
> borrowed from many a different creed in assembling the building blocks
> for a ?Nazi religion?. Designed as a collage faith, mild-mannered
> Buddhism, of all religions, was to be the cornerstone of a belief
> system gathering and swelling into an Indo-Aryan mania based on race
> and violence.
>
> Aargauer Zeitung, 25th September 2002 (Germany)
>
> Is the portrait of Eastern holy men hanging crooked? Dark clouds are
> gathering in the firmament above the religions of the East. [Victor and
> Victoria Trimondi] warn that Eastern doctrines could be
> instrumentalised for religious fanaticism.
>
> Die Presse, 5th October 2002 (Austria)
>
> Hitler, Buddha, Krishna is a detailed analysis of the influence exerted
> on National Socialism by Eastern religions. An exciting read, perhaps
> also since the signs are that the authors? attitude to their subject is
> far from distanced and emotionless.
>
> S?sche Zeitung, 14th October 2002 (Germany)
>
> Hitler, Buddha, Krishna ?reads like an appeal to an entire generation
> to foreswear its allegiance to the East rooted in its rejection of the
> affronts of modern Western society. The one-time publisher of Mao?s
> ?little red book? has returned, via Tibet, to the informative
> literature of the Judeo-Christian tradition. This is the wake-up call
> to those who regard Buddhism as a self-service counter offering
> ?post-modern hedonism? (Slavo Zizek).
>
> Universum Magazin, October 2002 (Austria)
>
> In writing their exhaustively researched book Victor und Victoria
> Trimondi have triggered a debate over the ?unholy alliance? between
> Western fascism and Eastern warrior religions. Serving as background to
> this is the fact that, although the National Socialists were able to
> justify violence, murder and war as a ?struggle in the name of God and
> Faith?, there is a long-standing history of misusing faith as a driving
> force behind radical ideology.
>
> Factum Magazin, September 2002 (Switzerland)
>
> Was Hitler?s world view modelled on Buddhism? A comprehensively
> researched book reveals that Hitler?s followers, inspired by ancient
> texts of the Far East, built him up to be the Chakravartin, the worldly
> and other-worldly global ruler within the context of a Nazi religion.
> [?] The bibliography on which the authors base their work is remarkable
> and is liable to make any refutation of its claims a difficult task.
> [?] This book has succeeded in removing the mask of peace from the
> religions and rituals of the Far East.
>
> Sandammeer - Die virtuelle Literaturzeitschrift, October 2002 (Austria)
>
>
> With their book the Trimondis hereby declare the culture debate open.
> We can look forward to a new chapter in the war of cultures as the
> begetter of all things. All those who shirk conflict should maintain
> their composure and consider that positive cultural developments have
> always been the result first and foremost of a clash between competing
> cultures, where the relativity of ones own set of beliefs was revealed
> and showed the way forward.
>
> N?ger Zeitung, 8th November 2002 (Germany)
>
> Victor and Victoria Trimondi provide convincing evidence that the
> ?Ahnenerbe? was the ?think tank? of the SS, an ideas factory not only
> for esoterics like Wiligut but also for world class academics, most of
> them ideologues. [?] The SS favoured Buddhism. This will be
> unfathomable to the fashionable Buddhists of today since they regard
> Buddhism as an international peace movement and the Dalai Lama as its
> figurehead. In actual fact Buddhism, seen through the eyes of the SS,
> is the perfect candidate.
>
> Evangelische Informationsstelle Kirchen-Sekten-Religionen, November
> 2002 (Switzerland)
>
> The questions raised by the Trimondis are topical questions relevant to
> our time and as such demand answers. Reappraisal, both individual and
> collective, of the Nazi past is necessary and, all things considered,
> the Trimondis? book is calculated to do all aficionados of Eastern
> mysticism a bitter but necessary service. All those who carefully
> peruse the Trimondis? work will still be able to love the East, but
> wholehearted enthusiasm for the East is no longer possible.
>
> Rheinische Post, 27th January 2003 (Germany)
>
> The cross-referencing to the attacks of September 11th is interesting
> since the debate over Western fascism and Eastern warrior religions is
> echoed in the aggressive warrior myths and teachings, the very sources
> of inspiration for religious fundamentalism.
>
> Weltwoche, 7th March 2003 (Switzerland)
>
> More than this the Trimondis? achievement is to have brought the
> Tibetans back down to the level of all peoples: Tibetans too ? a
> historical fact ? have waged war, murdered, slaughtered each other in
> (1885?1981). Having initiated, in 1919, the "National Socialist"
> movement in the Netherlands, he propagated ever since 1920 the
> Germanic-"Aryan" Swastika. Insisting that the Aryans descended from the
> polar "Hyperboreans" (who had allegedly inhabited first the lost
> Continent of Atlantis and then the Nordic Thule, ("aryosophic" and
> supposedly Runic notions, inherited from the Theosophy of Helena
> Blavatsky), Wirth maintained that the primordial wisdom from Atlantis
> had been preserved (by the "Mahatmas") in Buddhist Tibet. Such
> Theosophy was combined even further with Nordic mythology from the Edda
> (and with "Runic wisdom") by Rudolf Gorsleben (1883-1930) to the effect
> that in Tibet was to have been preserved something of the occult
> abilities to dominate nature, abilities once in the possession of the
> Arctic "primordial race" (Urrasse) of Aryans. And this became gospel
> truth for the occultist faction of Himmler's SS-"Ancestral Heritage".
> In particular the SS-"Sturmbannf?quot; Karl Maria Wiligut (1866-1946),
> an Austro-Hungarian colonel (locked up in a psychiatric clinic in
> 1924-1927), had, under the pseudonym of "Weisthor", that is "Wise
> [Nordic God] Thor", influenced Himmler to believe that the refuge of
> Aryans from "northernmost Thule", with parapsychological medium-life
> "memories" about their inheritance was to be sought below the earth in
> Buddhist Tibet. Thus, to "early Buddhism" were attributed particularly
> "Aryan qualities" (p. 100, 90). Nevertheless, it came to be doubted
> that Buddha's ethos of self-renunciation could possibly be considered
> "Aryan". Accordingly, Buddhism was assumed to be a degeneration of the
> genuinely Aryan Vedic religion of Power. Meanwhile the warlike Vedic
> Aryans had become the pride of certain anti-British Indian
> nationalists, after British images of subjugated Indians had attributed
> to them effeminate qualities and pragmatically irrelevant
> other?worldliness.
>
> Because of pragmatically obvious successes, far greater prestige than
> India had in Himmler's Germany triumphant Japan of the Samurai with
> their Bushido ethos. (In private Hitler counted the Japanese among the
> ?lacquered half monkeys who want to feel the knout?. [3]) And
> victorious Japanese militarism had instrumentalized a particular Zen
> school of meditation to drill devaluation of life, discipline, will
> power and the suppression of emotions. (This went much further than the
> British models for strengthening the will power, admiration for which
> had a much longer history in Germany (4) Thus Himmler himself
> recommended the model of Japan's Samurais to his SS, the "Samurais of
> Hitler", the elite of the elites, swayed by lower middle-Class upward
> mobility. (And the children of Germany's post-war Economic Miracle
> there were, still in 2000, recommended "the Road of the Samurai" for
> professional and private "success": pp. 194-195).
>
> It had been the Count Karl Friedrich D?m (no stranger to killing a
> family of squirrels for pure joy) who contributed Zen "Buddhist" ethics
> to make contempt for life and death in Hitler's Germany intellectually
> respectable. Japanese models of sacralization of power through Shinto
> mythology impressed Karl Haushofer, the mentor of Hitler's deputy
> Rudolf Hess.
>
> However, for practical purposes, there sufficed the Lutheran notion
> that all governing authorities ("Obrigkeit") came from God ... It was
> in spite of this that SS Chief Himmler promised to get rid of
> Christianity ("We must finish with Christianity. This great plague ...
> which has weakened us for every conflict.? [5]) But Nietzsche's
> declaring that "God is dead" was not enough: Alternatives to the
> Christian religion, so "alien to the Nordic race", were required to
> give notions inculcated into the SS a metaphysical foundation:
>
> A sacralization of the warrior caste's duties was expected from the
> caste ethos of the Bhagavad Gita, the sacralization of race purity
> through the Brahmanic Code of Manu. For this the rational findings of
> Indology were put "into the service of the irrational" (p. 524),
> Indological findings of seriously qualified specialists into the
> service of Himmler to elaborate an esoteric mythology for his SS. Thus
> Wilhelm W?901-1993), prominent in the philology of Indo-European
> languages, became Curator in Himmler's "Ahnenerbe" ("Ancestral
> Heritage") after 1936, 1939 SS-Standartenf?(Lieutenant Colonel)
> and the man of confidence of the SS Intelligence Service (SO) at the
> University of Munich, in 1941 its Rector. His kind of Indologists made
> essential contributions to the "Aryan religion" of the SS as the
> central Order of Warriors, acting as if the Aryan faith were both
> inherited and constructable (?machbar?). It was to provide cosmogonic
> bases for Leadership through archetypes of Vedic gods like Indra and
> Varuna.
>
> Consistently with this, Himmler's expedition to Tibet (in 1938/9) was
> interested more in its pre-Buddhist religion (Bon) than in Tibetan
> Buddhism. It sought proofs that Tibet once sheltered a high "Aryan"
> culture and that its Lamas were administering something of primeval
> Aryan wisdom (p. 158). Nordic remnants, supposedly going back to
> "Thule" of the mythic North, to the Hyperboreans and the "Continent" of
> Atlantis, were looked for in Tibet by Himmler's men. And yet this SS
> ("Ancestral Heritage") expedition to Lhasa was directed by the
> qualified Tibetologist Ernst Sch䦥r (1910-1992), who had previously
> regeneration. Among Evola's "applications" of them was killing ?
> sacrificing -- the Female (the female principle comprising both
> Compassion and Bolshevism) as its energy is to strengthen the Male, the
> Aryan Masculinity (p.234) which accumulates its own power by
> sacrificing the "Other".
>
> These notions Evola derived from the Vajray⮡ School of Tantric
> Buddhism. And with concepts from Tantric texts concludes his most
> influential work: The concept of Shambhala, symbolized by the Swastika
> pointing to, a center of Hyperborean traditions "of Aryan origins."
> Images of this mythic realm derive from the Tantric Kalachakra
> tradition. Its main texts have been made accessible in the post-war
> period, also by Jean Marqu賠Rivi貥, a French Sankritist, specialized
> in police persecution of secret societies, Masons and Jews in the
> semi-Fascist France of 1941-1944.
>
> Of more popular influence in Latin esoteric post-war Fascism was the
> Chilean Miguel Serrano (born in 1917): Since 1938 he joined Chile
> "National Socialists," and subsequently became their Fuehrer (after
> experiences as Chile's ambassador in India and in Communist Balkan
> states). In 1978, under the dictatorship of Pinochet, appeared his book
> "Hitler esot鲩co" and, in 1982, "Hitler el ?o Avatar", then, in
> 1991, "Manu por el hombre que vendrᦱuot;. These he called expressions of
> "esoteric Hitlerism". To Serrano is attributed the culmination of
> SS-mysticism. He assimilated most notions from Himmler's ancestral
> Heritage and the writings of Evola. Serrano's books are reported to
> circulate now among Skin Heads, Satanists, and Nazi Metal Music fans.
> Hitler's birth in 1889 meant for him the beginning of a new Era (p.
> 425); Hitler was for him more than only a Superman but the Nordic god
> Wotan and also Kalki, the last incarnation of Vishnu, and the "Manu of
> the Future". For, as an archetype, according to Serrano, Hitler could
> not possibly die, and was carried away on an "UFO" (Unidentified Flying
> Object) to "Shambhala" (where reside his God-Men: pp. 436, 438). Behind
> what this Chilean Nazi offered is essentially Tantric instruction (p.
> 493). Indeed, he was, like Evola and Marqu賭Rivi貥, practicing
> "sympathizer of the Devil" -? in the context of Tantric "Buddhism" (p.
> 451f). In the Satanist literature the Nordic "Thule" and the SS
> Ancestral Heritage have become metaphors of the Underworld -- with
> Heinrich Himmler as a Satanist adept. (A political joke from the Third
> Reich prophesied that -- after its final victory -- Himmler would
> become Underworld Marshall when Goering, the Reich?s Marshall, shall
> use of Tantric texts of the K⬡chakra School.
>
> Yet, it has to be reminded that the K⬡chakra System remains marginal
> even in Tibetan Lamaism, just as Lamaism remains marginal in the
> Buddhist world as a whole. Helmut Hoffmann (otherwise cited in the
> book) has pointed out Tibetan historical resistance against Tantrism;
> the rise of Tibet's dominant "Yellow Church" did involve reactions
> against it. [AB-1] Hoffman had called attention to Iranian dualist --
> that is non-Buddhist -- origins of precisely the K⬡chakra. (6)
> Although the authors rightly point out the primacy of compassion in the
> social ethics of Buddhism and themselves mention that "the K⬡chakra
> Tantra is in sharp contradiction to the originally pacifist tradition
> of Buddhism" (p. 513), they generalize from the Tantric K⬡chakra
> about Buddhism as a whole (p. 254). Thus in the heading "Buddhism as a
> doctrine of Power" (p. 254), as well as in the reference to militarist
> Buddhism, by "Buddhism" is meant its Tantric degeneration.
> Unfortunately, Volker Zotz's (author of a book about Buddhism in German
> culture) attribution of "amorality" to Buddhism "from its very
> beginnings" is repeated uncritically (pp. 456ff), particularly in the
> unfortunate subtitle "Foundations of Buddhist thought and the ideology
> of National Socialism" (p. 454).[AB-2]
>
> Thus the main problem with the book is its attempt to characterize
> Buddhism as a whole, its conclusions from particularities of SS mystery
> literature to generalities about Tibetan culture. In reality, the
> qualities attributed by "National Socialist" thinkers to Buddhism are
> no basis for its characterization, no matter how convincing points of
> departure Fascism finds in Tantric phenomena of Buddhism's decline. In
> fact, the K⬡chakra similarities to esoteric Fascism (p. 463) came
> about by Fascist imitations of Tantric categories of Vitalism and
> Power, which in themselves had been inherent in Nazi sentiment (not
> without impacts from Bavarian folk-vitalism). Even the famous [Fascist]
> Tibetologist's, Tucci's rhapsodies about "heroic Buddhism" (p. 193)
> cannot be accepted uncritically, just as War Sermons (usually on the
> text of Christ bringing not Peace but the Sword) could never
> characterize Christianity as a whole. (Logically Fascists have rejected
> its message while emulating its institution: the Church with its
> Hierarchy and Discipline.) Obviously the SS's film about its expedition
> to the Dalai Lama's realm (pp. 155f) showed only what its chief desired
> to be seen, just as the exiled 14th Dalai Lama's Buddhist messages to
> the democratic world leave out what has been undemocratic in Lamaism.
> To such present day uncritically unilateral images of exclusively
> humanitarian and pacifist Tibet this book is a most healthy corrective.
> Thus the authors point out that a public discussion about the Buddhist
> Tantrism of Tibet by the Dalai Lama would prevent its misuse and
> distortion by SS esoterics. But they can be easily misunderstood to the
> effect that there was nothing humanitarian and nothing pacifical about
> the Dalai Lama's realm, considering that among his friends was the SS
> auxiliary Jean Marqu賠Rivi貥 as well as Guru Shoko Asahara who (in
> 1995) caused poison gas injury to more than 5000 victims in the Tokyo
> subway -- as sacrifice to Shiva Rudra-Chakrin, apocalyptic world ruler
> in the K⬡chakra Tantra (pp. 505, 518). Such an "Aryan Priest-King" of
> post-war Nazi mysticism (p. 469f) -- and not the specifically Buddhist
> universal ruler (Chakkavattis rightly compared with the Japanese
> Tenno -- and wrongly with the ideal Buddhist emperor Ashoka of the
> third century B.C. (pp. 469f).
>
> Most absurdly, Himmler's Indologist W?d the Fascist Baron Evola,
> as well as protagonists of postwar SS mysticism, saw precisely in
> Ashoka the great power political model ... of "the Aryan Priest-King".
> Their absurdities about Ashoka should have been contradicted most
> definitely. After all, he recorded his unforgettable regret even about
> "one thousandth part of those who were slain". "And this has been
> recorded in order that ... whoever they may be, may not think of new
> conquests as worth achieving ... through arrows." And that the only
> "real conquest is a Conquest through Dhamma [force of Morality."
> Ashoka's pride was that he "achieved conquest through Dhamma ... a
> conquest flavoured with love? (7). And yet, with Ashoka remaining
> unmentioned in the context of oriental ideals of universal empire, the
> Chakkavatthakravartin (prototype of Buddhist kingship) appears under
> the subtitle "Apotheosis of the F?quot; (p. 328). Among the numerous
> references to this Indian embodiment of absolute power remains
> unmentioned the Chakkavattutta, one of the earliest Buddhist texts,
> stating that to the Chakkavatthe East, South, West and North shall
> submit voluntary: He shall declare that no living being is to be
> injured. (8) In contrast, the Chakravartin meant by the authors is
> Kalki from the Brahmanic Vishnu Purana (with reference to whom
> concludes Evola's "Revolt against Modernity"), Aryan world ruler,
> symbolized by the Swastika (p. 256). In reality, Kalki in India and the
> Chakravartin in Buddhist Burma had inspired politically opposite
> phenomena too:
>
> It was precisely from Kalki that same Pariah groups expected their
> emancipation against the caste hierarchy. In same rural areas Gandhi
> was identified with such a future incarnation of Vishnu. About the
> Chakkavattutta's description of the ideal future state reminded in
> 1959 U Nu (Burma's Prime Minister 1947-1958 and 1960-1962), with
> reference to his anti-?imperialist Buddhist socialism. (9) In the name
> of the ChakkavattBurmanized as "Setkya Min") repeatedly revolted
> Burma's peasants (as recorded after 1837). With this ideal Buddhist
> ruler was identified the central figure of the Burmese Peasant War of
> 1930-1932. (10)
>
> This shows how much more correctly than by Fascist Indologists and
> their subsequent esoterics was Buddhism understood by Hitler's
> inspirer, Houston Stewart Chamberlain, and the F?s rival
> Ludendorff. Chamberlain saw that Buddhism ?was moved by humanitarian
> reverie, proclaiming the equality of all human beings? (10a).
> Ludendorff reminded that it "preached self-extinction ... spiritual and
> bodily disarmament" (p. 295), both comprehending its ethos better than
> Himmler's Professor W?d Mussolini's Baron Evola. A "Duce from
> Bengal" can be seen in Subhas Chandra Bose (pp. 93) only disregarding
> that a Soviet alliance would have been his first choice. As vanished
> Redeemer he "is biding his time ... Millions of Indians believe ... he
> is hiding in Moscow, being instructed in the principles of revolution
> ... Eagerly they await[ed] him ..." (11)
>
> And archetypically less remotely from Communism than from Fascism led
> historically that "Gnosis", Satanizations of which are inherited in
> Political Science since Eric Voegelin (and echoed on p. 537): By
> "Gnosis" is usually meant its Manichean current. In fact, its vision of
> all material world, with all established institutions, being in the
> power of Evil, stimulated revolt rather than conservation of the
> established order. And that class distinctions and hierarchies have no
> meaning at all for the truly Initiated is among the messages of the
> Bhagavad Gita too. In the Brahman and in the [despised] cook of dog
> meat the wise ones behold the same. Already here [on earth] is Heaven
> won by those whose mind rests upon this Equality ... That they are rich
> and noble think those blinded by ignorance. (12)
>
> That the SS Chief invoked one passage from this Song Divine is no more
> a reflection upon this scripture (that was being invoked again and
> again by India's social reformers -- not only in pacifist Gandhism (13)
> but also in "Hinduized Communism? (14) than the "socialist" name of
> Hitler's party is a reflection upon Socialism. It was not so much that
> Savitri Devi found in the Bhagavad Gita principles that lend themselves
> for a convincing integration into SS ideology (p. 360); it was rather
> that she insisted on having found them. Her conclusions are not covered
> by the texts she quoted (p.357), about fulfilling duty without regard
> for the outcome, about a just fight, about Heaven for the fallen
> warriors and the Earth for the victorious ones. Actually, the texts
> this "Priestess of Hitler" emphasized lend themselves in general to
> hopeless, heroic resistance against powers of this world, resistance
> that has been much less offered by Fascists (under whom the weak had no
> claim to survival) than by anti-Fascists with their faith in a world
> that shall belong to the weak. (15)
>
> On the other hand, not to every Professor is given the character of
> professing convictions: Thus it is more the adjustment of certain
> German Indologists to financial incentives offered by 88 institutions
> than "affinities" of the Gita and of Buddhism to Fascism that is proved
> by 88 appropriations of "Oriental" thought.
>
> The weakest text in the book might be that "a Buddhist dissolves his
> Ego for the 'Liberation' of all suffering beings and a National
> Socialist for Nation and Race, but this could again and again in the
> history of Buddhism mean the precept of killing out of compassion and
> wisdom" (p. 458).
>
> SOURCE REFERENCES
>
> 1) Jean-Michael Angebert, The Occult and the Third Reich (New York,
> 1974); Fran篩s Ribadeau Dumas, Hitler et la sorcellerie (Paris, 1975);
> RR Carmin, "Guru" Hitler, Die Geburt des Nationalsozialismus aus dem
> Geist von Mystik und Magie (Z? 1985); Jean Robin, Hitler, I'鬵 du
> dragon (Paris, 1987)
>
> 2) Hitler's speech of 28. April 1939: Deutscher Kurzwellensender;
> Hitler, Monologe im F?auptquartier, edit. W. Jochmann (Hamburg,
> 1980), pp. 48, 62 f.; W. Maser, Das Regime. Alltag 1933-1945 (Manchen,
> 1983), p. 259; J.H. Voigt, "Hitler und Indien": Vierteljahreshefte f?; Zeitgeschichte, IX (1971), pp. 33, 49
>
> 3) Hitler, Speech of 22. August 1939 to the supreme commanders; L.P.
> Lochner, What about Germany? (New York, 1942), p. 3
>
> 4) Gerwin Strobl, The Germanic Isle. Nazi perceptions of Britain
> (Cambridge, 2000), pp. 41, 42
>
> 5) Heinrich Himmler, Geheimreden und andere Ansprachen (Frankfurt,
> 1974), p. 159: Speech of 9th. June 1942
>
> 5a). Hannah Arendt, Elemente und Urspr?otaler Herrschaft
> (Frankfurt, 1955), pp. 307, 313
>
> 5A). S.B. Dasgupta, An introduction to Tantric Buddhism (Calcutta,
> 1958), p. 179 f; John Blofeld, The Way of Power (London, 1970)
>
> 5B) "Die Linke ausgeschaltet, Osterreich eingeschaltet, die
> Massenmedien gleichgeschaltet, Deutschland isoliert, ganz Europa in
> Spannung versetzt und schlie߬ich den Kurzschluss erzeugt."
>
> 6) Helmut Hoffmann, Die Religionen Tibets (Freiburg B, 1956), p. 58
> ff., 119 f., 163; Hoffmann, "Das K⬡chakra, die letzte Phase des
> Buddhismus in Indien": Saeculum, XV/2 (1964), p. 128
>
> 7) Ashoka's 13th Rock Edict: D.R Bhandarkar, Asoka (Calcutta 1925), pp.
> 300-303; J. Bloch, Les inscriptions d'Asoka (Paris, 1950), pp. 125-132
>
> 8) Cakkavatti-Sn⤡-Sutta, Diaha Nikⶡ, XXVI, 6: Translation by
> Rhys Davids, Sacred Books of the East, IV (London, 1957), p. 63f
>
> Monier-Williams, Brahmanism and Hinduism. (London, 1889), p. 114;
> Bharatan Kumarappa, ?introduction to: M.K. Gandhi, Hindu Dharma
> (Ahmedabad, 1950), p. VIII; U Nu's Speech of November 16th, 1959 before
> the Anti-Fascist People's Freedom League (Burmese typescript given by U
> Nu to the author), pp. 17f, largely reprinted in Bama-hkit of 17. XI
> 1959, p. 8; Sarkisyanz, Buddhist Backgrounds of the Burmese Revolution
> (The Hague, 1965), p. 224
>
> 10) Cf. Maurice Collis, Trials in Burma (London, 1938), pp. 129, 273f.
>
> 10a) Houston Stewart Chamberlain, Briefwechsel mit Kaiser Wilhelm II
> (Munich, 1929), Vol. 11 p.152
>
> 11) J. A. Michener, Voice of Asia (New York, 1952), p. 265; of. NA
> Chadhuri, "Subhas Chandra Bhose, his legacy and legend": Pacific
> Affairs (1955), p. 356. All italics are mine.
>
> 12) Bhagavad Gita, V, 18f; XVI; 12-17; XIII, 29: translation by R Garbe
> (Leipzig, 1905), pp. 94, 140f, 132
>
> 13) W. Roland Scott, Social ethics of modern Hinduism (Calcutta, 1953),
> p. 109: "Gandhi maintained that non-violence was... a central teaching
> of the Gita" (sic); "the Gita ... does not teach, according to his
> opinions, violence": Wilhelm Mahlmann, Mahatma Gandhi, der Mann, sein
> Werk und seine Wirkung (Tabingen, 1950), p. 140
>
> 14) H.S. Sinha, Communism and Gita, A philosophico-ethical study
> (Delhi, 1979), pp. 264, 262: "The Gita would always ... shake hand
> [sic] with communism and bring out a workable synthesis...", "a
> valuational synthesis of these two systems can save humanity..."
>
> 15) There was no Nazi Leningrad that held out against a siege lasting
> nine hundred days of near starvation (in 1941?1944). On the Fascist
> side there was no Madrid that withstood more than two years of almost
> daily bombardments by aviation and artillery (in 1936/8); no [Basque]
> fishery launch !hat resisted an enemy battleship during an entire hour
> (on 5. March 1931) before sinking itself (having received about 200
> impacts of naval cannon): It was but the Ocean that extinguished the
> fire of its last machine gun. (Sarria, De arrantzales a gudaris del Mar
> [Bermeo, Vizcaya, n.n.], p. 108)
>
> Manuel Sarkisyanz (born 1923) had been a subject of the Shah of Iran.
> He studied at the University of Tehran and then at the University of
> Chicago. There, he wrote his first book, ?Russia and the Messianism of
> the Orient?. Upon its publication in German he was immediately invited
> to Germany ? initially as visiting professor in Freiburg und then in
> Kiel. Hs main interests lie in the comparative history of independence
> movements. Among his dozen of books are ?History of the Oriental
> Peoples of the Russian Empire? (in German), ?Rizal (national hero of
> the Philippines) and Republican Spain?, ?Buddhist background of the
> Burmese Revolution?. His publication on historiography as apology for
> British rule in Burma (Ohio University Press) has also appeared in the
> Burmese language. The books of Sarkisyanz on the ?American Resurgence
> in Peru? and on ?Felipe Carrillo, the ?Red? Apostle of the Mayas? were
> published in both German and Spanish. The latter is now being
> translated into the language of Mayas of Yucatᮠ(Mexico) where the
The links between Nazism, Fascism and so forth is clear to all. That
does detract on the Kalachakra though that they don't understand a bit
of in this article. Fascist Tucci did and they should at least read him
to understand. They don't study and expect to understand. Maybe by
magic could they understand then !
Geir
detract on the Kalachakra though..."
It should thus read as this :
"The links between Nazism, Fascism and so forth is clear to all. That
does not detract on the Kalachakra though that they don't understand a
bit
of in this article. Fascist Tucci did and they should at least read him
to understand. They don't study and expect to understand. Maybe by
magic could they understand then !
"
I meant to say that the Kalachakra is not stained by any of the Nazis'
rantings and madnesses. They're the ones that like Buddhism not
Buddhism them; ahem. Buddha's not a Nazi, thanks !!! Huh ! Murderers
can be Buddhists, no one can keep anyone from being Buddhists. Buddhism
is not what it's faithful are. Are Catholics all Hitlers because he
was a choir-boy when he was a kid ? That's a ridiculous generalization
that doesn't work in it's logic, at all.
Geir
my lips : the post I just sent before this in the thread, seems to
speak only about the Nazis but from the point of view of the Trimondis'
article, there's also an "apology by default" of the Red Communists by
the critique of the Kalachakra and the Dalai lama.
I hereby set the count straight concenring my intentions and opinions
on this ng. I hope also Finnigan, Ruut, Daryl Eastlake and sundry
others too are all reading and see this.
The claim by the Trimondis that the Kalachakra could be abbetting war
and warriors in real armies that conduct invasions and war-raids upon
the Communist China or the traditional lands of China is
ridiculous.Making it an ally of Nazism, the Fascist ennemies of the Red
Mainland is ridiculous. It's all political posturing no more.
Kalachakra is the creed of the Buddha and in no way a criminal
enterprise as caricatured by them.
But Communist China is a criminal, mad empire as for it. It's
scientific oriented creed is a fanatical extreme heresy. The beliefs of
Mao that base upon Marx' are those of the milleniaristical fanatism
that evolved over Christianity's history around the belief that the
Messiah was due after a period of a thousand years of joy or else after
an apocalypse... depending on what error one chose to believe in. Marx
quoted freely from the Apocalypse in his works.
This has been well-documented by competent and real university work
both, from the College de France and from the Sorbonne (France's MIT
and Harvard), by Delumeau and Sarmiento.
But I'm not stopping for all that. I'm going to be posting the works
and writings of Parienti that the Carreons carry the link of on ABOL.
It deconstructs the feudalism of ancient Tibet from a politically
biased pro-Communist point of vview. But I'll post it because the
ancient must go, be it through the brunt of blows by the Communists or
otherwise. Ancient Tibet was toast by the time the Communists came
there.
I'll post it without abbetting anything of the later critique of the
religion that has nothing with Comunism to do. Buddha didn't abett
royalty nor dominion of country or land. He lived off begging Himself.
Thus, the critique of roaylty as in Tibet by the lama theocracy can
easily be criticized. From a Buddhist point of view all the more so.
Buddhists say that you have all that you get coming to you because
that's your karma. But it's easy to critcize and the red Communists
ahve more flak coming at them than anyone on earth, particularly with
the human rights reconrd being put straight.
Now, to make anyone wrong who would doubt that I'm anything but the
worst nightmare that Communist Mainland China could dream of and that I
don't abbet even an instant of a short-take on agreeing with China that
Parenti, the Trimondis or the Carreons could make, well let me tell all
that I've put up a page on my own personal site in French (soon in
English too...) that says that the Chinese mainlanders are the Beast of
the Bible and that they make 80% of all manufactured goods in the world
presently. In another ten years that'll be 100%. The Beast's sign is on
each person's forehead and hand in their transactions.
China and India are the worst nightmares of the human race. India is
Buddhism arch enemy from Buddha's time, the holders of the intolerant
and murderous caste system. It being the future great power of the
world is the worst nightmare that can happen to Humanity.
This should thus make the Parenti and co people perfectly aware of who
I am and what I think, and no mistake being made on that once and for
all.
It's all at my site on http://geirsmith.org/
or in French at : http://www.geirsmith.org/geir.html
Geir
there, and good ones too. Most of them in-depth research.)
I'm going to move on thhough and will come back to a total repost of
the Trimondi pages because they are too good to overlook and no one
anywhere posts this kind of stuff mainstream.
ABOL is a public service site. It's so good. No one should do without
it. Anything else is pure lies.
Here is now the Parenti page of ABOL, which denounces the state of
archaic Tibet.
I support denouncing that state and also doing what Parenti doesn't do
which is denounce the mad Communist Regime that believes that it will
bring about Paradise by it's barabaric rule. It thinks that the
prophecied coming of the end of the world and the coming about of the
prophecied Paradise on Earth will be their own one. Stupid idiots that
are completely mad and off their rockers. Irremediably crazy.
Tibet was wrong in being archaic, China is wrong in being what it is
today and not destroying it's own Communist Party, the throwover from
Marx, the mad idiot. And his mad idiot-friend Mao.
"FRIENDLY FEUDALISM: THE TIBET MYTH
by Michael Parenti
July 7, 2003
Throughout the ages there has prevailed a distressing symbiosis between
religion and violence. The histories of Christianity, Judaism,
Hinduism, and Islam are heavily laced with internecine vendettas,
inquisitions, and wars. Again and again, religionists have claimed a
divine mandate to terrorize and massacre heretics, infidels, and other
sinners.
Some people have argued that Buddhism is different, that it stands in
marked contrast to the chronic violence of other religions. But a
glance at history reveals that Buddhist organizations throughout the
centuries have not been free of the violent pursuits so characteristic
of other religious groups. (1) In the twentieth century alone, from
Thailand to Burma to Korea to Japan, Buddhists have clashed with each
other and with non-Buddhists. In Sri Lanka, huge battles in the name of
Buddhism are part of Sinhalese history. (2)
Just a few years ago in South Korea, thousands of monks of the Chogye
Buddhist order---reputedly devoted to a meditative search for spiritual
enlightenment---fought each other with fists, rocks, fire-bombs, and
clubs, in pitched battles that went on for weeks. They were vying for
control of the order, the largest in South Korea, with its annual
budget of $9.2 million, its additional millions of dollars in property,
and the privilege of appointing 1,700 monks to various duties. The
brawls left dozens of monks injured, some seriously. (3)
But many present-day Buddhists in the United States would argue that
none of this applies to the Dalai Lama and the Tibet he presided over
before the Chinese crackdown in 1959. The Dalai Lama's Tibet, they
believe, was a spiritually oriented kingdom, free from the egotistical
lifestyles, empty materialism, pointless pursuits, and corrupting vices
that beset modern industrialized society. Western news media, and a
slew of travel books, novels, and Hollywood films have portrayed the
Tibetan theocracy as a veritable Shangri-La and the Dalai Lama as a
wise saint, "the greatest living human," as actor Richard Gere gushed.
(4)
The Dalai Lama himself lent support to this idealized image of Tibet
with statements such as: "Tibetan civilization has a long and rich
history. The pervasive influence of Buddhism and the rigors of life
amid the wide open spaces of an unspoiled environment resulted in a
society dedicated to peace and harmony. We enjoyed freedom and
contentment." (5) In fact, Tibet's history reads a little differently.
In the thirteenth century, Emperor Kublai Khan created the first Grand
Lama, who was to preside over all the other lamas as might a pope over
his bishops. Several centuries later, the Emperor of China sent an army
into Tibet to support the Grand Lama, an ambitious 25-year-old man, who
then gave himself the title of Dalai (Ocean) Lama, ruler of all Tibet.
Here is a historical irony: the first Dalai Lama was installed by a
Chinese army.
To elevate his authority beyond worldly challenge, the first Dalai Lama
seized monasteries that did not belong to his sect, and is believed to
have destroyed Buddhist writings that conflicted with his claim to
divinity. (6) The Dalai Lama who succeeded him pursued a sybaritic
life, enjoying many mistresses, partying with friends, writing erotic
poetry, and acting in other ways that might seem unfitting for an
incarnate deity. For this he was "disappeared" by his priests. Within
170 years, despite their recognized status as gods, five Dalai Lamas
were murdered by their enlightened nonviolent Buddhist courtiers. (7)
Shangri-La (for Lords and Lamas)
Religions have had a close relationship not only to violence but to
economic exploitation. Indeed, it is often the economic exploitation
that necessitates the violence. Such was the case with the Tibetan
theocracy. Until 1959, when the Dalai Lama last presided over Tibet,
most of the arable land was still organized into religious or secular
manorial estates worked by serfs. Even a writer like Pradyumna Karan,
sympathetic to the old order, admits that "a great deal of real estate
belonged to the monasteries, and most of them amassed great riches. . .
. In addition, individual monks and lamas were able to accumulate great
wealth through active participation in trade, commerce, and money
lending." (8) Drepung monastery was one of the biggest landowners in
the world, with its 185 manors, 25,000 serfs, 300 great pastures, and
16,000 herdsmen. The wealth of the monasteries went to the
higher-ranking lamas, many of them scions of aristocratic families,
while most of the lower clergy were as poor as the peasant class from
which they sprang. This class-determined economic inequality within the
Tibetan clergy closely parallels that of the Christian clergy in
medieval Europe.
Along with the upper clergy, secular leaders did well. A notable
example was the commander-in-chief of the Tibetan army, who owned 4,000
square kilometers of land and 3,500 serfs. He also was a member of the
Dalai Lama's lay Cabinet. (9) Old Tibet has been misrepresented by some
of its Western admirers as "a nation that required no police force
because its people voluntarily observed the laws of karma." (10) In
fact. it had a professional army, albeit a small one, that served as a
gendarmerie for the landlords to keep order and catch runaway serfs.
(11)
Young Tibetan boys were regularly taken from their families and brought
into the monasteries to be trained as monks. Once there, they became
bonded for life. Tashì-Tsering, a monk, reports that it was common
practice for peasant children to be sexually mistreated in the
monasteries. He himself was a victim of repeated childhood rape not
long after he was taken into the monastery at age nine. (12) The
monastic estates also conscripted peasant children for lifelong
servitude as domestics, dance performers, and soldiers.
In Old Tibet there were small numbers of farmers who subsisted as a
kind of free peasantry, and perhaps an additional 10,000 people who
composed the "middle-class" families of merchants, shopkeepers, and
small traders. Thousands of others were beggars. A small minority were
slaves, usually domestic servants, who owned nothing. Their offspring
were born into slavery. (13)
In 1953, the greater part of the rural population -- some 700,000 of an
estimated total population of 1,250,000 -- were serfs. Tied to the
land, they were allotted only a small parcel to grow their own food.
Serfs and other peasants generally went without schooling or medical
care. They spent most of their time laboring for the monasteries and
individual high-ranking lamas, or for a secular aristocracy that
numbered not more than 200 wealthy families. In effect, they were owned
by their masters who told them what crops to grow and what animals to
raise. They could not get married without the consent of their lord or
lama. A serf might easily be separated from his family should the owner
send him to work in a distant location. Serfs could be sold by their
masters, or subjected to torture and death. (14)
A Tibetan lord would often take his pick of females in the serf
population, if we are to believe one 22-year old woman, herself a
runaway serf: "All pretty serf girls were usually taken by the owner as
house servants and used as he wished." They "were just slaves without
rights." (15) Serfs needed permission to go anywhere. Landowners had
legal authority to capture and forcibly bring back those who tried to
flee. A 24-year old runaway serf, interviewed by Anna Louise Strong,
welcomed the Chinese intervention as a "liberation." During his time as
a serf he claims he was not much different from a draft animal,
subjected to incessant toil, hunger, and cold, unable to read or write,
and knowing nothing at all. He tells of his attempts to flee:
The first time [the landlord's men] caught me running away, I was very
small, and they only cuffed me and cursed me. The second time they beat
me up. The third time I was already fifteen and they gave me fifty
heavy lashes, with two men sitting on me, one on my head and one on my
feet. Blood came then from my nose and mouth. The overseer said: "This
is only blood from the nose; maybe you take heavier sticks and bring
some blood from the brain." They beat then with heavier sticks and
poured alcohol and water with caustic soda on the wounds to make more
pain. I passed out for two hours. (16)
In addition to being under a lifetime bond to work the lord's land --
or the monastery's land -- without pay, the serfs were obliged to
repair the lord's houses, transport his crops, and collect his
firewood. They were also expected to provide carrying animals and
transportation on demand. "It was an efficient system of economic
exploitation that guaranteed to the country's religious and secular
elites a permanent and secure labor force to cultivate their land
holdings without burdening them either with any direct day-to-day
responsibility for the serf's subsistence and without the need to
compete for labor in a market context." (17)
The common people labored under the twin burdens of the corvée (forced
unpaid labor on behalf of the lord) and onerous tithes. They were taxed
upon getting married, taxed for the birth of each child, and for every
death in the family. They were taxed for planting a new tree in their
yard, for keeping domestic or barnyard animals, for owning a flower
pot, or putting a bell on an animal. There were taxes for religious
festivals, for singing, dancing, drumming, and bell ringing. People
were taxed for being sent to prison and upon being released. Even
beggars were taxed. Those who could not find work were taxed for being
unemployed, and if they traveled to another village in search of work,
they paid a passage tax. When people could not pay, the monasteries
lent them money at 20 to 50 percent interest. Some debts were handed
down from father to son to grandson. Debtors who could not meet their
obligations risked being placed into slavery for as long as the
monastery demanded, sometimes for the rest of their lives. (18)
The theocracy's religious teachings buttressed its class order. The
poor and afflicted were taught that they had brought their troubles
upon themselves because of their foolish and wicked ways in previous
lives. Hence they had to accept the misery of their present existence
as an atonement and in anticipation that their lot would improve upon
being reborn. The rich and powerful of course treated their good
fortune as a reward for -- and tangible evidence of -- virtue in past
and present lives.
Torture and Mutilation in Shanghri-La
In the Dalai Lama's Tibet, torture and mutilation -- including eye
gouging, the pulling out of tongues, hamstringing, and amputation of
arms and legs -- were favored punishments inflicted upon thieves,
runaway serfs, and other "criminals." Journeying through Tibet in the
1960s, Stuart and Roma Gelder interviewed a former serf, Tsereh Wang
Tuei, who had stolen two sheep belonging to a monastery. For this he
had both his eyes gouged out and his hand mutilated beyond use. He
explains that he no longer is a Buddhist: "When a holy lama told them
to blind me I thought there was no good in religion." (19) Some Western
visitors to Old Tibet remarked on the number of amputees to be seen.
Since it was against Buddhist teachings to take human life, some
offenders were severely lashed and then "left to God" in the freezing
night to die. "The parallels between Tibet and medieval Europe are
striking," concludes Tom Grunfeld in his book on Tibet. (20)
Some monasteries had their own private prisons, reports Anna Louise
Strong. In 1959, she visited an exhibition of torture equipment that
had been used by the Tibetan overlords. There were handcuffs of all
sizes, including small ones for children, and instruments for cutting
off noses and ears, and breaking off hands. For gouging out eyes, there
was a special stone cap with two holes in it that was pressed down over
the head so that the eyes bulged out through the holes and could be
more readily torn out. There were instruments for slicing off kneecaps
and heels, or hamstringing legs. There were hot brands, whips, and
special implements for disembowling. (21)
The exhibition presented photographs and testimonies of victims who had
been blinded or crippled or suffered amputations for thievery. There
was the shepherd whose master owed him a reimbursement in yuan and
wheat but refused to pay. So he took one of the master's cows; for this
he had his hands severed. Another herdsman, who opposed having his wife
taken from him by his lord, had his hands broken off. There were
pictures of Communist activists with noses and upper lips cut off, and
a woman who was raped and then had her nose sliced away. (22)
Theocratic despotism had been the rule for generations. An English
visitor to Tibet in 1895, Dr. A. L. Waddell, wrote that the Tibetan
people were under the "intolerable tyranny of monks" and the devil
superstitions they had fashioned to terrorize the people. In 1904
Perceval Landon described the Dalai Lama's rule as "an engine of
oppression" and "a barrier to all human improvement." At about that
time, another English traveler, Captain W.F.T. O'Connor, observed that
"the great landowners and the priests . . . exercise each in their own
dominion a despotic power from which there is no appeal," while the
people are "oppressed by the most monstrous growth of monasticism and
priest-craft the world has ever seen." Tibetan rulers, like those of
Europe during the Middle Ages, "forged innumerable weapons of
servitude, invented degrading legends and stimulated a spirit of
superstition" among the common people. (23)
In 1937, another visitor, Spencer Chapman, wrote, "The Lamaist monk
does not spend his time in ministering to the people or educating them,
nor do laymen take part in or even attend the monastery services. The
beggar beside the road is nothing to the monk. Knowledge is the
jealously guarded prerogative of the monasteries and is used to
increase their influence and wealth." (24)
Occupation and Revolt
The Chinese Communists occupied Tibet in 1951, claiming suzerainty over
that country. The 1951 treaty provided for ostensible self-government
under the Dalai Lama's rule but gave China military control and
exclusive right to conduct foreign relations. The Chinese were also
granted a direct role in internal administration "to promote social
reforms." At first, they moved slowly, relying mostly on persuasion in
an attempt to effect change. Among the earliest reforms they wrought
was to reduce usurious interest rates, and build some hospitals and
roads.
Mao Zedung and his Communist cadres did not simply want to occupy
Tibet. They desired the Dalai Lama's cooperation in transforming
Tibet's feudal economy in accordance with socialist goals. Even Melvyn
Goldstein, who is sympathetic to the Dalai Lama and the cause of
Tibetan independence, allows that "contrary to popular belief in the
West," the Chinese "pursued a policy of moderation." They took care "to
show respect for Tibetan culture and religion" and "allowed the old
feudal and monastic systems to continue unchanged. Between 1951 and
1959, not only was no aristocratic or monastic property confiscated,
but feudal lords were permitted to exercise continued judicial
authority over their hereditarily bound peasants." (25) As late as
1957, Mao Zedung was trying to salvage his gradualist policy. He
reduced the number of Chinese cadre and troops in Tibet and promised
the Dalai Lama in writing that China would not implement land reforms
in Tibet for the next six years or even longer if conditions were not
yet ripe. (26)
Nevertheless, Chinese rule over Tibet greatly discomforted the lords
and lamas. What bothered them most was not that the intruders were
Chinese. They had seen Chinese come and go over the centuries and had
enjoyed good relations with Generalissimo Chiang Kaishek and his
reactionary Kuomintang rule in China. (27) Indeed the approval of the
Kuomintang government was needed to validate the choice of the
present-day Dalai Lama and Panchen Lama. When the young Dalai Lama was
installed in Lhasa, it was with an armed escort of Chiang Kaishek's
troops and an attending Chinese minister, in accordance with
centuries-old tradition. (28) What really bothered the Tibetan lords
and lamas was that these latest Chinese were Communists. It would be
only a matter of time, they were sure, before the Communists started
imposing their egalitarian and collectivist solutions upon the highly
privileged theocracy.
In 1956-57, armed Tibetan bands ambushed convoys of the Chinese Peoples
Liberation Army (PLA). The uprising received extensive material support
from the CIA, including arms, supplies, and military training for
Tibetan commando units. It is a matter of public knowledge that the CIA
set up support camps in Nepal, carried out numerous airlifts, and
conducted guerrilla operations inside Tibet. (29) Meanwhile in the
United States, the American Society for a Free Asia, a CIA front,
energetically publicized the cause of Tibetan resistance. The Dalai
Lama's eldest brother, Thubtan Norbu, played an active role in that
group.
Many of the Tibetan commandos and agents whom the CIA dropped into the
country were chiefs of aristocratic clans or the sons of chiefs. Ninety
percent of them were never heard from again, according to a report from
the CIA itself. (30) The small and thinly spread PLA garrisons in Tibet
could not have captured them all. The PLA must have received support
from Tibetans who did not sympathize with the uprising. This suggests
that the resistance had a rather narrow base within Tibet. "Many lamas
and lay members of the elite and much of the Tibetan army joined the
uprising, but in the main the populace did not, assuring its failure,"
writes Hugh Deane. (31) In their book on Tibet, Ginsburg and Mathos
reach a similar conclusion: "The Tibetan insurgents never succeeded in
mustering into their ranks even a large fraction of the population at
hand, to say nothing of a majority. As far as can be ascertained, the
great bulk of the common people of Lhasa and of the adjoining
countryside failed to join in the fighting against the Chinese both
when it first began and as it progressed." (32) Eventually the
resistance crumbled.
The Communists Overthrow Feudalism
Whatever wrongs and new oppressions introduced by the Chinese in Tibet
after 1959, they did abolish slavery and the serfdom system of unpaid
labor. They eliminated the many crushing taxes, started work projects,
and greatly reduced unemployment and beggary. They built the only
hospitals that exist in the country, and established secular education,
thereby breaking the educational monopoly of the monasteries. They
constructed running water and electrical systems in Lhasa. They also
put an end to floggings, mutilations, and amputations as a form of
criminal punishment. (33)
The Chinese also expropriated the landed estates and reorganized the
peasants into hundreds of communes. Heinrich Harrer wrote a bestseller
about his experiences in Tibet that was made into a popular Hollywood
movie. (It was later revealed that Harrer had been a sergeant in
Hitler's SS. (34)) He proudly reports that the Tibetans who resisted
the Chinese and "who gallantly defended their independence . . . were
predominantly nobles, semi-nobles and lamas; they were punished by
being made to perform the lowliest tasks, such as laboring on roads and
bridges. They were further humiliated by being made to clean up the
city before the tourists arrived." They also had to live in a camp
originally reserved for beggars and vagrants. (35)
By 1961, hundreds of thousands of acres formerly owned by the lords and
lamas had been distributed to tenant farmers and landless peasants. In
pastoral areas, herds that were once owned by nobility were turned over
to collectives of poor shepherds. Improvements were made in the
breeding of livestock, and new varieties of vegetables and new strains
of wheat and barley were introduced, along with irrigation
improvements, leading to an increase in agrarian production. (36)
Many peasants remained as religious as ever, giving alms to the clergy.
But people were no longer compelled to pay tributes or make gifts to
the monasteries and lords. The many monks who had been conscripted into
the religious orders as children were now free to renounce the monastic
life, and thousands did, especially the younger ones. The remaining
clergy lived on modest government stipends, and extra income earned by
officiating at prayer services, weddings, and funerals. (37)
The charges made by the Dalai Lama himself about Chinese mass
sterilization and forced deportation of Tibetans have remained
unsupported by any evidence. Both the Dalai Lama and his advisor and
youngest brother, Tendzin Choegyal, claimed that "more than 1.2 million
Tibetans are dead as a result of the Chinese occupation." (38) No
matter how often stated, that figure is puzzling. The official 1953
census -- six years before the Chinese crackdown -- recorded the entire
population of Tibet at 1,274,000. Other estimates varied from one to
three million. (39) Later census counts put the ethnic Tibetan
population within the country at about two million. If the Chinese
killed 1.2 million in the early 1960s then whole cities and huge
portions of the countryside, indeed almost all of Tibet, would have
been depopulated, transformed into a killing field dotted with death
camps and mass graves -- of which we have seen no evidence. The Chinese
military force in Tibet was not big enough to round up, hunt down, and
exterminate that many people even if it had spent all its time doing
nothing else.
Chinese authorities do admit to "mistakes" in the past, particularly
during the 1966-76 Cultural Revolution when religious persecution
reached a high tide in both China and Tibet. After the uprising in the
late 1950s, thousands of Tibetans were incarcerated. During the Great
Leap Forward, forced collectivization and grain farming was imposed on
the peasantry, sometimes with disastrous effect. In the late 1970s,
China began relaxing controls over Tibet "and tried to undo some of the
damage wrought during the previous two decades." (40) In 1980, the
Chinese government initiated reforms reportedly designed to grant Tibet
a greater degree of self-rule and self-administration. Tibetans would
now be allowed to cultivate private plots, sell their harvest
surpluses, decide for themselves what crops to grow, and keep yaks and
sheep. Communication with the outside world was again permitted, and
frontier controls were eased to permit Tibetans to visit exiled
relatives in India and Nepal. (41)
Elites, Émigrés, and CIA Money
For the Tibetan upper class lamas and lords, the Communist intervention
was a calamity. Most of them fled abroad, as did the Dalai Lama
himself, who was assisted in his flight by the CIA. Some discovered to
their horror that they would have to work for a living. Those feudal
elites who remained in Tibet and decided to cooperate with the new
regime faced difficult adjustments. Consider the following:
In 1959, Anna Louise Strong visited the Central Institute of National
Minorities in Beijing which trained various ethnic minorities for the
civil service or prepared them for entrance into agricultural and
medical schools. Of the 900 Tibetan students attending, most were
runaway serfs and slaves. But about 100 were from privileged Tibetan
families, sent by their parents so that they might win favorable posts
in the new administration. The class divide between these two groups of
students was all too evident. As the institute's director noted:
Those from noble families at first consider that in all ways they are
superior. They resent having to carry their own suitcases, make their
own beds, look after their own room. This, they think, is the task of
slaves; they are insulted because we expect them to do this. Some never
accept it but go home; others accept it at last. The serfs at first
fear the others and cannot sit at ease in the same room. In the next
stage they have less fear but still feel separate and cannot mix. Only
after some time and considerable discussion do they reach the stage in
which they mix easily as fellow students, criticizing and helping each
other. (42)
The émigrés' plight received fulsome play in the West and substantial
support from U.S. agencies dedicated to making the world safe for
economic inequality. Throughout the 1960s the Tibetan exile community
secretly received $1.7 million a year from the CIA, according to
documents released by the State Department in 1998. Once this fact was
publicized, the Dalai Lama's organization itself issued a statement
admitting that it had received millions of dollars from the CIA during
the 1960s to send armed squads of exiles into Tibet to undermine the
Maoist revolution. The Dalai Lama's annual share was $186,000, making
him a paid agent of the CIA. Indian intelligence also financed him and
other Tibetan exiles. (43) He has refused to say whether he or his
brothers worked with the CIA. The agency has also declined to comment.
(44)
While presenting himself as a defender of human rights, and having won
the Nobel Peace Prize in 1989, the Dalai Lama continued to associate
with and be advised by aristocratic émigrés and other reactionaries
during his exile. In 1995, the Raleigh, N.C. News & Observer carried a
frontpage color photograph of the Dalai Lama being embraced by the
reactionary Republican senator Jesse Helms, under the headline
"Buddhist Captivates Hero of Religious Right." (45) In April 1999,
along with Margaret Thatcher, Pope John Paul II, and the first George
Bush, the Dalai Lama called upon the British government to release
Augusto Pinochet, the former fascist dictator of Chile and a longtime
CIA client who had been apprehended while visiting England. He urged
that Pinochet be allowed to return to his homeland rather than be
forced to go to Spain where he was wanted by a Spanish jurist to stand
trial for crimes against humanity.
Today, mostly through the National Endowment for Democracy and other
conduits that are more respectable-sounding than the CIA, the US
Congress continues to allocate an annual $2 million to Tibetans in
India, with additional millions for "democracy activities" within the
Tibetan exile community. The Dalai Lama also gets money from financier
George Soros, who now runs the CIA-created Radio Free Europe/Radio
Liberty and other institutes. (46)
The Question of Culture
We are told that when the Dalai Lama ruled Tibet, the people lived in
contented symbiosis with their monastic and secular lords, in a social
order sustained by a deeply spiritual, nonviolent culture. The
peasantry's profound connection to the existing system of sacred belief
supposedly gave them a tranquil stability, inspired by humane and
pacific religious teachings. One is reminded of the idealized imagery
of feudal Europe presented by latter-day conservative Catholics such as
G. K. Chesterton and Hilaire Belloc. For them, medieval Christendom was
a world of contented peasants living in deep spiritual bond with their
Church, under the protection of their lords. (47) The Shangri-La image
of Tibet bears no more resemblance to historic reality than does the
romanticized image of medieval Europe.
It might be said that we denizens of the modern secular world cannot
grasp the equations of happiness and pain, contentment and custom, that
characterize more "spiritual" and "traditional" societies. This may be
true, and it may explain why some of us idealize such societies. But
still, a gouged eye is a gouged eye; a flogging is a flogging; and the
grinding exploitation of serfs and slaves is still a brutal class
injustice whatever its cultural embellishments. There is a difference
between a spiritual bond and human bondage, even when both exist side
by side.
To be sure, there is much about the Chinese intervention that is to be
deplored. In the 1990s, the Han, the largest ethnic group comprising
over 95 percent of China's vast population, began moving in substantial
numbers into Tibet and various western provinces. (48) These
resettlements have had an effect on the indigenous cultures of western
China and Tibet. On the streets of Lhasa and Shigatse, signs of Chinese
preeminence are readily visible. Chinese run the factories and many of
the shops and vending stalls. Tall office buildings and large shopping
centers have been built with funds that might have been better spent on
water treatment plants and housing.
Chinese cadres in Tibet too often adopted a supremacist attitude toward
the indigenous population. Some viewed their Tibetan neighbors as
backward and lazy, in need of economic development and "patriotic
education." During the 1990s Tibetan government employees suspected of
harboring nationalist sympathies were purged from office, and campaigns
were launched to discredit the Dalai Lama. Individual Tibetans
reportedly were subjected to arrest, imprisonment, and forced labor for
attempting to flee the country, and for carrying out separatist
activities and engaging in political "subversion." Some arrestees were
held in administrative detention without adequate food, water, and
blankets, subjected to threats, beatings, and other mistreatment. (49)
Chinese family planning regulations that allow a three-child limit for
Tibetan families have been enforced irregularly and vary by district.
If a couple goes over the limit, the excess children can be denied
subsidized daycare, health care, housing, and education. Meanwhile,
Tibetan history, culture, and religion are slighted in schools.
Teaching materials, though translated into Tibetan, focus on Chinese
history and culture. (50)
Still, the new order has its supporters. A 1999 story in The Washington
Post notes that the Dalai Lama continues to be revered in Tibet, but
. . . few Tibetans would welcome a return of the corrupt aristocratic
clans that fled with him in 1959 and that comprise the bulk of his
advisers. Many Tibetan farmers, for example, have no interest in
surrendering the land they gained during China's land reform to the
clans. Tibet's former slaves say they, too, don't want their former
masters to return to power.
"I've already lived that life once before," said Wangchuk, a
67-year-old former slave who was wearing his best clothes for his
yearly pilgrimage to Shigatse, one of the holiest sites of Tibetan
Buddhism. He said he worshipped the Dalai Lama, but added, "I may not
be free under Chinese communism, but I am better off than when I was a
slave." (51)
To support the Chinese overthrow of the Dalai Lama's feudal theocracy
is not to applaud everything about Chinese rule in Tibet. This point is
seldom understood by today's Shangri-La adherents in the West.
The converse is also true. To denounce the Chinese occupation does not
mean we have to romanticize the former feudal régime. One common
complaint among Buddhist proselytes in the West is that Tibet's
religious culture is being destroyed by the Chinese authorities. This
does seem to be the case. But what I am questioning here is the
supposedly admirable and pristinely spiritual nature of that
pre-invasion culture. In short, we can advocate religious freedom and
independence for Tibet without having to embrace the mythology of a
Paradise Lost.
Finally, it should be noted that the criticism posed herein is not
intended as a personal attack on the Dalai Lama. He appears to be a
nice enough individual, who speaks often of peace, love, and
nonviolence. In 1994, in an interview with Melvyn Goldstein, he went on
record as having been since his youth in favor of building schools,
"machines," and roads in his country. He claims that he thought the
corvée and certain taxes imposed on the peasants "were extremely bad."
And he disliked the way people were saddled with old debts sometimes
passed down from generation to generation. (52) Furthermore, he
reportedly has established "a government-in-exile" featuring a written
constitution, a representative assembly, and other democratic
essentials. (53)
Like many erstwhile rulers, the Dalai Lama sounds much better out of
power than in power. Keep in mind that it took a Chinese occupation and
almost forty years of exile for him to propose democracy for Tibet and
to criticize the oppressive feudal autocracy of which he himself was
the apotheosis. But his criticism of the old order comes far too late
for ordinary Tibetans. Many of them want him back in their country, but
it appears that relatively few want a return to the social order he
represented.
In a book published in 1996, the Dalai Lama proffered a remarkable
statement that must have sent shudders through the exile community. It
reads in part as follows:
Of all the modern economic theories, the economic system of Marxism is
founded on moral principles, while capitalism is concerned only with
gain and profitability. Marxism is concerned with the distribution of
wealth on an equal basis and the equitable utilization of the means of
production. It is also concerned with the fate of the working
classes-that is the majority -- as well as with the fate of those who
are underprivileged and in need, and Marxism cares about the victims of
minority-imposed exploitation. For those reasons the system appeals to
me, and it seems fair. . . .
The failure of the regime in the Soviet Union was, for me not the
failure of Marxism but the failure of totalitarianism. For this reason
I think of myself as half-Marxist, half-Buddhist. (54)
And more recently in 2001, while visiting California, he remarked that
"Tibet, materially, is very, very backward. Spiritually it is quite
rich. But spirituality can't fill our stomachs." (55) Here is a message
that should be heeded by the affluent well-fed Buddhist proselytes in
the West who cannot be bothered with material considerations as they
romanticize feudal Tibet.
Buddhism and the Dalai Lama aside, what I have tried to challenge is
the Tibet myth, the Paradise Lost image of a social order that was
little more than a despotic retrograde theocracy of serfdom and
poverty, so damaging to the human spirit, where vast wealth was
accumulated by a favored few who lived high and mighty off the blood,
sweat, and tears of the many. For most of the Tibetan aristocrats in
exile, that is the world to which they fervently desire to return. It
is a long way from Shangri-La.
Michael Parenti is an internationally known author and lecturer. He is
one of the nation's leading progressive political analysts. Parenti
received his Ph.D. in political science from Yale University in 1962.
He has taught at a number of colleges and universities, in the United
States and abroad. Parenti's most recent books are To Kill a Nation
(Verso); The Terrorism Trap (City Lights); and The Assassination of
Julius Caesar: A People's History of Ancient Rome (New Press). You can
find more information about Michael Parenti at michaelparenti.org.
Notes
1. Melvyn C. Goldstein, The Snow Lion and the Dragon: China, Tibet,
and the Dalai Lama (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1995),
6-16. (back)
2. Mark Juergensmeyer, Terror in the Mind of God, (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 2000), 113. (back)
3. Kyong-Hwa Seok, "Korean monk gangs battle for temple turf," San
Francisco Examiner, December 3, 1998. (back)
4. Gere quoted in "Our Little Secret," CounterPunch, 1-15 November
1997. (back)
5. Dalai Lama quoted in Donald Lopez Jr., Prisoners of Shangri-La:
Tibetan Buddhism and the West (Chicago and London: Chicago University
Press, 1998), 205. (back)
6. Stuart Gelder and Roma Gelder, The Timely Rain: Travels in New
Tibet (New York: Monthly Review Press, 1964), 119. (back)
7. Gelder and Gelder, The Timely Rain, 123. (back)
8. Pradyumna P. Karan, The Changing Face of Tibet: The Impact of
Chinese Communist Ideology on the Landscape (Lexington, Kentucky:
University Press of Kentucky, 1976), 64. (back)
9. Gelder and Gelder, The Timely Rain, 62 and 174. (back)
10. As skeptically noted by Lopez, Prisoners of Shangri-La, 9. (back)
11. See the testimony of one serf who himself had been hunted down by
Tibetan soldiers and returned to his master: Anna Louise Strong,
Tibetan Interviews (Peking: New World Press, 1929), 29-30 90. (back)
12. Melvyn Goldstein, William Siebenschuh, and Tashì-Tsering, The
Struggle for Modern Tibet: The Autobiography of Tashì-Tsering (Armonk,
N.Y.: M.E. Sharpe, 1997). (back)
13. Gelder and Gelder, The Timely Rain, 110. (back)
14. Strong, Tibetan Interviews, 15, 19-21, 24. (back)
15. Quoted in Strong, Tibetan Interviews, 25. (back)
16. Strong, Tibetan Interviews, 31. (back)
17. Melvyn C. Goldstein, A History of Modern Tibet 1913-1951
(Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), 5. (back)
18. Gelder and Gelder, The Timely Rain, 175-176; and Strong, Tibetan
Interviews, 25-26. (back)
19. Gelder and Gelder, The Timely Rain, 113. (back)
20. A. Tom Grunfeld, The Making of Modern Tibet rev. ed. (Armonk, N.Y.
and London: 1996), 9 and 7-33 for a general discussion of feudal Tibet;
see also Felix Greene, A Curtain of Ignorance (Garden City, N.Y.:
Doubleday, 1961), 241-249; Goldstein, A History of Modern Tibet
1913-1951, 3-5; and Lopez, Prisoners of Shangri-La, passim. (back)
21. Strong, Tibetan Interviews, 91-92. (back)
22. Strong, Tibetan Interviews, 92-96. (back)
23. Waddell, Landon, and O'Connor are quoted in Gelder and Gelder, The
Timely Rain, 123-125. (back)
24. Quoted in Gelder and Gelder, The Timely Rain, 125. (back)
25. Goldstein, The Snow Lion and the Dragon, 52. (back)
26. Goldstein, The Snow Lion and the Dragon, 54. (back)
27. Heinrich Harrer, Return to Tibet (New York: Schocken, 1985), 29.
(back)
28. Strong, Tibetan Interview, 73. (back)
29. See Kenneth Conboy and James Morrison, The CIA's Secret War in
Tibet (Lawrence, Kansas: University of Kansas Press, 2002); and William
Leary, "Secret Mission to Tibet," Air & Space, December 1997/January
1998. (back)
30. Leary, "Secret Mission to Tibet." (back)
31. Hugh Deane, "The Cold War in Tibet," CovertAction Quarterly
(Winter 1987). (back)
32. George Ginsburg and Michael Mathos Communist China and Tibet
(1964), quoted in Deane, "The Cold War in Tibet." Deane notes that
author Bina Roy reached a similar conclusion. (back)
33. See Greene, A Curtain of Ignorance, 248 and passim; and Grunfeld,
The Making of Modern Tibet, passim. (back)
34. Los Angeles Times, 18 August 1997. (back)
35. Harrer, Return to Tibet, 54. (back)
36. Karan, The Changing Face of Tibet, 36-38, 41, 57-58; London Times,
4 July 1966. (back)
37. Gelder and Gelder, The Timely Rain, 29 and 47-48. (back)
38. Tendzin Choegyal, "The Truth about Tibet," Imprimis (publication
of Hillsdale College, Michigan), April 1999. (back)
39. Karan, The Changing Face of Tibet, 52-53. (back)
40. Elaine Kurtenbach, Associate Press report, San Francisco
Chronicle, 12 February 1998. (back)
41. Goldstein, The Snow Lion and the Dragon, 47-48. (back)
42. Strong, Tibetan Interviews, 15-16. (back)
43. Jim Mann, "CIA Gave Aid to Tibetan Exiles in '60s, Files Show,"
Los Angeles Times, 15 September 1998; and New York Times, 1 October,
1998. (back)
44. Reuters report, San Francisco Chronicle, 27 January 1997. (back)
45. News & Observer, 6 September 1995, cited in Lopez, Prisoners of
Shangri-La, 3. (back)
46. Heather Cottin, "George Soros, Imperial Wizard," CovertAction
Quarterly no. 74 (Fall 2002). (back)
47. The Gelders draw this comparison, The Timely Rain, 64. (back)
48. The Han have also moved into Xinjiang, a large northwest province
about the size of Tibet, populated by Uighurs; see Peter Hessler, "The
Middleman," New Yorker, 14 & 21 October 2002. (back)
49. Report by the International Committee of Lawyers for Tibet, A
Generation in Peril (Berkeley Calif.: 2001), passim. (back)
50. International Committee of Lawyers for Tibet, A Generation in
Peril, 66-68, 98. (back)
51. John Pomfret, "Tibet Caught in China's Web," Washington Post, 23
July 1999. (back)
52. Goldstein, The Snow Lion and the Dragon, 51. (back)
53. Tendzin Choegyal, "The Truth about Tibet." (back)
54. The Dalai Lama in Marianne Dresser (ed.), Beyond Dogma: Dialogues
and Discourses (Berkeley, Calif.: North Atlantic Books, 1996). (back)
55. Quoted in San Francisco Chronicle, 17 May 2001. (back) "
Geir
Carreon-made pages that detail the situation of Tiebtans that happened
in Tibet during the fighting and then what happened in India afterwards
and is nothing but a stench-filled sewer.
This is what teally underlines the Tibetans today and is irretrievable
for them and the various coverups that are made by various
agenda-driven people that don't want the truth coming out.
Tomorrow.... when that comes. Dirt will hit that fan.
Geir
http://www.american-buddha.com/ then this :
http://www.american-buddha.com/site.map.htm then this :
http://www.american-buddha.com/shadow.dalai.htm then this :
http://www.american-buddha.com/thanksgrateful.htm then this :
http://www.american-buddha.com/cia.secret.war.htm then this :
http://www.american-buddha.com/cia.conboymorrisonreviewjomorgan.htm
The underlying truth about Tibet and it's history rather than the
history-rewritten as it's presented, must come out now :
"A REVIEW OF KENNETH J. CONBOY AND JAMES MORRISON'S "THE CIA'S SECRET
WAR IN TIBET"
by Joseph G. Morgan
The CIA' Secret War in Tibet, by Kenneth Conboy and James Morrison
Department of History and Political Science, Iona College
Kenneth J. Conboy and James Morrison. The CIA's Secret War in Tibet.
Modern War Studies. Lawrence: University Press of Kansas, 2002. x + 301
pp. Photographs, maps, notes, index. $34.95 (cloth), ISBN
0-7006-1159-2.
Published by H-Diplo (June, 2002)
In The CIA's Secret War in Tibet, Kenneth Conboy and James Morrison
recount the efforts of the Central Intelligence Agency to assist
Tibetan resistance fighters in their struggle against the People's
Republic of China (PRC) from the 1950s to the 1970s. Although the
Agency had contacts with Tibetans since the Chinese reoccupied Tibet in
1950, it did not organize a major operation in the country until Khampa
tribesmen launched rebellions against the PRC in 1955 and 1956. With
the assistance of Gyalo Thondup, a brother of the Dalai Lama who was
active in the politics of the Tibetan refugee community, the CIA
recruited and trained six Tibetan refugees to serve as agents in
assessing the strength of rebellion and in preparing for the creation
of a resistance network. By 1958, reports from these agents convinced
the Eisenhower administration that the Tibetans had the ability to wage
a sustained campaign against Chinese rule. The CIA therefore carried
out a program of secretly dropping supplies to the Tibetan insurgents
and training Tibetan agents to organize resistance and intelligence
networks within the country. This effort, however, was launched just as
the People's Liberation Army took increasingly effective measures in
suppressing the rebels. Tibetan radio agents did play a crucial role in
assisting the Dalai Lama as he fled the escalating fighting by
informing the U.S. and Indian governments about the Lama's request for
sanctuary in India. This important propaganda victory nevertheless did
nothing to stop the PLA's destruction and dispersal of the guerrilla
bands that the Agency assisted.
The failure of the rebellion, however, did not bring an end to American
efforts to use Tibet as an active front against the PRC. In the 1960s,
the CIA continued training Tibetan agents for intelligence and sabotage
operations in Tibet and it set up a base for a guerrilla unit in the
remote Nepalese kingdom of Mustang. After China's border war with India
in 1962, the Agency worked closely with Indian intelligence services in
training and supplying agents in Tibet and in creating a special forces
unit of Tibetan refugees that was eventually called the Special
Frontier Force. The CIA's Tibetan operations continued until the 1970s
when strains in U.S.-Indian relations, the improvement of U.S.
diplomatic ties with the PRC, and the Nepalese government's occupation
of the Mustang base brought the Tibet program to an end.
In addition to training agents and paramilitary units for operations
inside Tibet, the CIA took other steps to aid the Tibetan resistance. A
CIA subsidiary, the Committee for Free Asia, financed a trip that
Thubten Norbu, another one of the Dalai Lama's brothers, made to the
United States in the early 1950s to plead for American support for
Tibetan independence. When Tibetans lobbied for the passage of a United
Nations resolution that expressed concern over PRC policies in Tibet in
1959, the CIA provided information to sympathetic journalists and
editors in an effort to build up public support for the resolution. The
Agency also assisted the Dalai Lama's government-in-exile by giving a
$180,000 annual donation to the Dalai Lama's charitable trust fund
until 1967 and by subsidizing a training program for Tibetan officials
and agents at Cornell University. It also purchased Tibetan art works
for display at the government-in-exile's Tibet House in New Delhi.
In the book's preface, Conboy and Morrison write that the story of the
CIA's activities in Tibet has been told before, but they contend that
this story needs to be retold for several reasons. "Tibet," they claim,
"became a vital cold war proving ground for CIA case officers and their
spycraft." Much of the equipment that the Agency used in subsequent
years, especially aircraft and communications gear, was "combat tested
in the most extreme conditions imaginable" (p. ix). CIA personnel also
learned techniques for air dropping supplies and in establishing
communications networks that were used in subsequent operations.
Moreover, they learned to work closely with other government agencies,
especially the armed forces and U.S. Forest Service, in getting the
pilots, parachute instructors, and aircraft needed to implement the
program. Finally, many of the officers who participated in the Tibet
program later assumed positions of greater responsibility in directing
CIA activities in other parts of the world, especially Vietnam and
Laos. John Kenneth Knaus, who trained Tibetan agents and later headed
the Tibet Task Force in the early 1960s, went on to hold senior
positions at Langley. Roger McCarthy, the head of the Tibet Task Force
at the height of its activities from 1959 until 1961, later led
operations in Vietnam and Laos. Two CIA members who trained Tibetan
agents in Colorado, Thomas Fosmire and Anthony Poshpenny (Tony Poe),
also served in Indochina for several years.
The authors also write that the CIA's Tibet program played an important
role in forging closer ties between the United States and India,
particularly the CIA and its Indian counterparts. Despite serious
disputes over issues such as India's Cold War neutralism and America's
alliance with Pakistan, common fears about Chinese policies in Tibet
"led Washington and New Delhi to become secret partners over the course
of several U.S. administrations" (p. x). Conboy's and Morrison's
description of this partnership is one of the greatest strengths of the
book. The authors provide a detailed account of CIA collaboration with
the Indian intelligence services in training and equipping Tibetan
agents and special forces troops and in forming joint aerial and
intelligence units such as the Aviation Research Center and Special
Center. This collaboration continued well into the 1970s and some of
the programs that it sponsored, especially the operations of the
Special Frontier Force under Indian command, continue into the present.
Finally, Conboy and Morrison claim that the CIA's role in assisting the
Dalai Lama in his flight from Tibet and in establishing a Tibetan
government-in-exile as well as paramilitary forces "was a significant
boost in the morale in the refugee community." This assistance, they
argue, "helped carry the diaspora community and its leadership through
the darkest years of exile when their cause might have been otherwise
forgotten" (p. x). This argument is likely to spark the strongest
disagreement from some of the book's readers. Although it is true that
the Americans gave valuable assistance to the Dalai Lama during the
early years of his exile, their very involvement in the revolt against
the PRC did much to create the tensions that shaped his decision to
flee Tibet. Moreover, as Tsering Shakya writes in The Dragon in the
Land of Snows, the CIA's Tibetan operations convinced the PRC's leaders
that they faced "a direct threat to China's security" and this
conviction "may explain the ferocity of Chinese suppression of the
Tibetan revolt."[1]
The book also gives the impression that many of the CIA's Tibetan
operations were simply ineffectual and costly failures despite the
ingenuity and bravery of both the Tibetan and American agents. Aid to
the revolt in the late 1950s did not prevent the rebellion's ultimate
defeat and the harsh Chinese policies that followed. Virtually all of
the agents who infiltrated Tibet for the purpose of creating resistance
or intelligence networks were killed, captured, or forced to flee the
country. The guerrilla force based at Mustang scored an impressive
early success by capturing a cache of classified Chinese documents in
1961, but did little in subsequent years because of effective Chinese
border control measures and infighting among the force's leadership.
The unit, as one of its officers put it, "went on existing for the sake
of existence" (p. 199).
Although Conboy and Morrison do not systematically analyze the reasons
for the Tibet program's failure, they do mention a number of factors
that undermined its effectiveness. The Tibetan leadership constantly
suffered from differences concerning personalities, policy, and
regional loyalties. Despite widespread resentment against their rule,
the Chinese implemented rigorous security measures that discouraged
local support for the CIA's Tibetan agents. Finally, neither the United
States nor the South Asian governments that supported or tolerated the
Agency's activities were willing to countenance a campaign that risked
an open conflict with the PRC.
In writing The CIA's Secret War in Tibet, Conboy and Morrison draw on
earlier accounts such as John Prados's Presidents' Secret Wars. They
also acknowledge their debt to memoirs written by former CIA officers
such as Knaus and McCarthy.[2] The authors have nevertheless added a
great deal of new information concerning the CIA's work. They have
consulted documents from the Foreign Relations of the United States
series and Declassified Documents Reference Service as well as memoirs
and secondary works concerning the Tibet operation. They add much to
the record through their interviews of many of the surviving
principals. They have interviewed or corresponded with many of the
surviving CIA personnel, including Knaus, McCarthy, Fosmire, and
Poshpenny as well as American civilian and military personnel who
supported the program. Many of the Tibetan leaders and agents such as
Gyalo Thondup, Lhamo Tsering, Baba Yeshi, and Jamba Kalden were also
interviewed. Moreover, Conboy and Morrison also contacted Indians,
Nepalese, and Sikkimese who dealt with the CIA during this time. In
drawing on interviews in writing the book, the authors have been
careful to check the reliability of their sources and have avoided
making sensationalist claims.
The CIA's Secret war in Tibet clearly describes the organization and
execution of CIA operations, but provides less detail about the higher
level policy decisions affecting the CIA program. The book provides
enough information for readers to understand the general direction of
American, Chinese, and Tibetan policies, but other works give a more
comprehensive coverage of these matters. Knaus's Orphans of the Cold
War provides a detailed view of Washington's Tibet policies while works
by Shakya, A. Tom Grunfeld, and Melvyn C. Goldstein discuss the
problems faced by leaders in Beijing and Lhasa.[3] The book's coverage
of American policies is stronger than that of China's although the
authors have consulted histories published in Taiwan and the PRC. The
book's discussion of Chinese affairs is also marred by misspellings and
inconsistencies in using the Wade-Giles and Pinyin systems. The most
striking example of this is when the authors repeatedly refer to
China's Hui Muslim minority as "Hiu" Muslims. Conboy and Morrison are
generally sympathetic and respectful in their treatment of Tibetan
culture, but they refer to the Dalai Lama's consultations with
spiritual mediums as "channeling sessions."
Despite these problems, The CIA's Secret War in Tibet provides a clear
and valuable account of the Agency's Tibetan campaign and it is a
welcome addition to the literature of the subject.
Notes
[1]. Tsering Shakya, The Dragon in the Land of Snows: A Modern History
of Tibet Since 1947 (London: Pimlico, 1999), p. 171.
[2]. John Prados, Presidents' Secret Wars: CIA and Pentagon Covert
Operations Since World War II (New York: William Morrow, 1986); John
Kenneth Knaus, Orphans of the Cold War: America and the Struggle for
Tibetan Survival (New York: Public Affairs, 1999); and Roger McCarthy,
Tears of the Lotus: Accounts of Tibetan Resistance to the Chinese
Invasion, 1950-1961 (Jefferson, N.C.: McFarland, 1997).
[3]. A. Tom Grunfeld, The Making of Modern Tibet, revised edition
(Armonk, N.Y., 1996); and Melvyn C. Goldstein, A History of Modern
Tibet, 1913-1951: The Demise of the Lamaist State (Berkeley and London:
University of California Press, 1989) and The Snow Lion and the Dragon:
China, Tibet, and the Dalai Lama (Berkeley and London: University of
California Press, 1997).
Library of Congress call number: E183.8.T55 C66 2002
Subjects:
United States. Central Intelligence Agency.
Espionage, American--China--Tibet.
United States--Relations--China--Tibet.
Tibet (China)--Relations--United States.
United States--Foreign relations--China.
China--Foreign relations--United States.
United States--Foreign relations--1945-1989."
Geir a écrit :
Geir
the strife with China. Before that I posted the archaic, corrupt state
that Tibet was in and that needed to be changed.
But that does not detract from the aberration of Communist China, that
follows the heretical view of Communism that claims to be the door to
Paradise and to be bringing about the Entry into a Red Paradise that
heralds the Coming that they've just copied from the Apocalypse which
shows how stupid, mad and idiotic the Chinese are to believe in such
hogwash.
They're just like a massive, country-wide cult of their own crazy
making.
Compounding the aberrant policies and philosophies of these crazies is
their behaviour, erring deviations and deviousness, their mad swinging
in moods and all-round viciousness makes this regime and it's whole
environment toally bad, evil and condemned. They are doubtlessly the
Beast of the Bible and nothing else. They have the aim of invading the
world militarily on top of flooding the world with their goods that are
produced by faking the marketplace. They will fail because people
always reproach the immorality underlying their policiy and they won't
whange it. They will fall from people turning away from them and
pushing them to ruin because of that. Their mixing of coersion-force,
and cunning seduction policy will be their undoing; because violence in
business deosn't go down right, such as the Mafia, Al Capone and the
Mob illustrated. Business goes along well as long as they can find
corrupt partners but that doesn't work when they meet someone upright
and hoionest and they've now met up with me, the Eliott Ness of the
world, partrolling these crooks and busting them, sending them home to
their end.
So, my posts are to point to this : Tibet's ancient coorpution is not
to be hidden and passed upon as if it had been right. But China is not
to be now spared the rod and is the next domino to falll in the Central
Asian puzzle-structure. For that, let's look at history and the
involvment of the USA in Asia in those days along with little-known
Tibetan players that have been covered up now by recently lying covered
up Tibetan rendering of history in an agenda-driven policy of deceit
and coverup.
This is in the last installment and will be the aim of the next many
posts coming up now. This short explanation in any case in order here
thus to introduce that next installment and change in these postings
now. G SMITH here posting away !
Geir
here's the rest.
I've sent things about the Trimondis. Their ignorant rendering of the
Kalachakra as real assessment of a reality is stupid. In cartoons all
is illusoruy. Don't they ge that about Tantra either ? It's
metaphoriacl from top to bottom. The deities with all the ehads and
arms are not a reality up in Tibet differnet from our's here : these
people must be primitve or something to believe what they write about
Tantrism that's just off-the-wall, all of it.
Communism sure doesn't offer anything instead with it's
millenarianistic paradise offered. They just kill their way to paradise
eh !
Tibet's history is all hogwash and the version offered to the world is
all dreamstuff. The Dalai lama escaping and the Chinese hot on his
track is not the official history but just the mythical rendering.
Here's the real version without the presonality cult around the Dalai,
and giving the real players each of their roles in full even the
villains among Tibetans that the offical version tries to water down
and diminish. (This a first page among the whole series that Charles
Carreon has collated on his site there. Great work !!)
For openers take a look at the illustrations coming with the list :
http://www.american-buddha.com/cia.secret.war.list.htm
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- LIST OF MAPS AND ILLUSTRATIONS
Map of Tibet
Map of Sikkim
Wangdu Gyatotsang, leader of the Saipan-trained team dropped in Kham
Geshe Wangyal, the CIA's Mongolian translator
The communications shed at Murmitola airfield, East Pakistan
CAT-piloted C-118 at Kurmitola, East Pakistan
NVDA areas of operation, 1958-1959
Tom Fosmire, the first training chief at Camp Hale
Overview of Camp Hale
A C-130 at Kadena airbase, Okinawa, having its USAF tail markings
removed
Roger MacCarthy, head of the Tibet Task Force
Insignia for Detachment 2/1045th Operational Evaluation and Training
Camp
Training officer Sam Poss stands over the burned administration
building at Camp Hale
Kham region showing the extent of Chinese highway construction
Map of Nepal
Baba Yeshi, the first commander of Mustang
Map of India
T.J. Thompson with Tibetan student riggers, Agra airbase
Map of the Indian frontier
Twin Helio STOL plane during USAF trials
Map of Tibet from China's perspective
Tucker Gougelmann, the CIA's senior paramilitary adviser in India
Hank Booth with top SFF marksmen
Mustang officers Gen Dawa, Gen Gyurme, and Rara
Lhamo Tsering at Mustang
Map of the location of the sixteen guerilla companies in Mustang
Mustang guerrillas practice with a recoilless rifle
Mustang guerrillas in training
SFF members during the Bangladesh campaign
The Dalai Lama and the Major General Uban review the SFF at Chakrata
The Dalai Lama addresses the SFF
The Annapurna Guest House, Pokhara, built with CIA rehabilitation funds
Tibetan paratroopers during the first freefall course "
Geir
"Though a hundred Khampas die," goes a Tibetan proverb, "there are
still a thousand Khampa children." While it is true that a
disproportionate number of Khampa tribesmen have died in the revolts
since the middle of the twentieth century, defiance against Chinese
subjugation has become a defining characteristic of Tibetans from all
clans and ethnic backgrounds.
The following is a story of how the U.S. government, primarily through
the Central Intelligence Agency, came to harness, nurture, and
encourage that defiance in one of the most remote covert campaigns of
the cold war. This is not the first time that it has been told.
Indeed, some of the details--such as apocryphal tales of CIA case
officers chanting Tibetan Buddhist mantras to seek solace--have become
cliche. Two former CIA officials have even published books on Tibet
after clearing the agency's vetting process.
This take on the Tibet story is different. As much as possible, it is
told on the record, through the people who managed and fought in the
program: from CIA case officers to Tibetan agents to Indian
intelligence officials to proprietary aircrews. Many are going public
for the first time; many, too, are offering details never before
revealed.
It was our intent to tell the story objectively from all angles,
especially from the Tibetans' viewpoint. Through their own words and
deeds, it becomes possible to cut down the inflated caricatures many
Westerners have been fast to paint and thus see the Tibetans as they
should be seen: as fallible mortals replete with moments of defeatism,
selfishness, and brutal infighting.
Telling the story in this manner is important for several reasons.
First, the Tibet saga is an important chapter in the CIA's paramilitary
history. In Tibet, new kinds of equipment--aircraft and parachutes,
for example--were combat tested under the most extreme conditions
imaginable. New communications techniques were tried and perfected.
For many of the case officers involved in this process, the Tibet
campaign was a defining moment. Not only did the Tibetans win over
U.S. officials with their infectious enthusiasm, but the lessons
learned in Tibet were used by these officers during subsequent CIA
campaigns in places like Laos and Vietnam. Tibet, therefore, became a
vital cold war proving ground for CIA case officers and their spy
craft.
Second, the story told in these pages is properly placed in the context
of the country where most of its programs were staged: India. In past
renditions of the Tibet campaign, India's role gets barely a mention,
if at all. In reality, Tibet led Washington and New Delhi to become
secret partners over the course of several U.S. administrations; even
when relations appeared to be particularly strained during the era of
Richard Nixon, there remained a discreet undercurrent of intelligence
cooperation. With an understanding of this secretive dimension to
Indo-U.S. ties, American involvement in the subcontinent suddenly
appears far more nuanced and pragmatic.
Finally, the CIA's secret campaign in Tibet was a vital part of
contemporary Tibetan history. Though the agency's assistance was small
in absolute terms--the Dalai Lama's older brother, Gyalo Thondup, has
since derided it as "a provocation, not genuine help"--it proved
pivotal during several key moments. Were it not for the CIA's radio
agents, for example, the Dalai Lama might not have arrived safely in
exile. And in his early years on Indian soil, the Dalai Lama relied on
CIA assistance to get settled. Though the CIA-supported guerrilla army
in Mustang proved ineffectual on the ground, the mere fact that there
were Tibetan troops under arms was a significant boost to morale in the
refugee community. All these factors helped carry the diaspora and its
leadership through the darkest years of exile when their cause might
otherwise have been forgotten. That the free Tibetan community has
been able to survive and even thrive--arguably, the Tibetan issue has a
higher profile today than at any time since the 1959 flight of the
Dalai Lama--is owed in no small part to the secret assistance channeled
by the United States.
This book is based on both written sources and extensive oral
interviews. The written sources were gathered primarily from the
Foreign Relations of the United States series, as well as releases in
the Declassified Documents Reference System and relevant media
transcripts recorded by the Foreign Broadcast Information Service. For
oral sources, Tashi Choedak and Roger McCarthy were particularly
helpful in arranging initial contacts with several key participants.
Others that deserve special mention are Dale Andrade, Chue Lam, Harry
Pugh, MacAlan Thompson, John Dori, and Tom Timmons. John Cross
assisted with locating sources in Nepal. Frank Miller generously
provided documents on the People's Liberation Army in Tibet.
As with the two other books we coauthored, the attention to detail in
these pages is a reflection of James Morrison and his passion for
history. Sadly, it is the last time we can appreciate his talents.
Before the publication of this work, Jim passed away. With his
passing, I lost a dear friend and colleague who can never be replaced.
I truly hope this meets his exacting expectations, and it is in his
memory that this book is lovingly dedicated."
here we go for the full exposing naked of the Tibetan history of the
exile....Whomp !
Geir
confronted with the ruthless breaking of their world that was archaic
and could not withstand the pressure of a modern world.
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- CONTACT
Even after stripping away centuries of myth and cliche, Tibet still
invites hyperbole. This is largely due to its being situated on real
estate best described by superlatives. Averaging almost five kilometers
above sea level and covering an area the size of the American
Southwest, it is surrounded by some of the planet's highest mountain
ranges: the Himalayas to the south, the Karakoram to the west, the
Kunlun to the north. Within these imposing natural borders, most of
northern and western Tibet -- a third of the country -- is a barren
mountain desert of wind-blown dunes crusted with salt deposits. Life in
these parts is barely present, nor welcome. In the northeast -- in a
zone known among Tibetans as the province of Amdo -- the terrain is
akin to the Mongolian steppes, with its grassy veneer sustaining a
sparse population of hardy alpine animals. In the southeast quadrant
known as Kham, Tibet drops slightly in altitude, and the topography
devolves into the exaggerated slopes, impossibly narrow valleys, and
gnarled conifers normally associated with Chinese watercolors.
It is the central plateau, however, that has become synonymous with the
landscape of Tibet. Encompassing the provinces of U and Tsang, it is a
harsh, rocky land of hypnotic beauty where, because of the altitude,
light seems to intensify color and detail. Here is a world where animal
life copes through unique adaptations: an indigenous breed of horse
with double the lung capacity of its low-land cousins, or a species of
beetle containing a glycerol "antifreeze" that lets it function in the
snow.[1]
The cultures of Tibet reflect these various ecosystems. In the northern
and western deserts, the parched, frigid dunes have traditionally kept
the region free of human habitation, save for transient trade caravans.
To the northeast, the sparse population of Amdo finds little recourse
on the steppes other than to eke out a living as seminomadic herdsmen
-- or marauding bandits that prey on the same. In the southeast,
residents of Kham make the most of river valleys, using them for both
pastureland and terraced agricultural plots. Tall for Asians and often
lacking the Mongoloid eye fold (giving them a passing resemblance to
American Indians), Khampas have earned a reputation for being clannish,
courageous, and socially unpolished. This has not stopped them from
making their mark as accomplished traders, plying their goods in China,
India, and other parts of Tibet. [2]
Once again, it is in the central plateau where stereotypical Tibetan
culture can be found. Clustered around arable meadows, inhabitants of
this zone focus on animal husbandry and growing the most robust of
crops, such as barley. Central Tibetans at one time also boasted a
formidable martial spirit; in the late eighth century, they conquered
territory as far south as the Indian plains and as far west as the
Muslim lands of the Middle East. Although such prowess has since been
replaced by spiritual introspection, central Tibetans have maintained a
lock on the country's political power. Dominating the thin upper strata
of Tibet's religious bureaucracy and lay aristocracy, they often assume
a pampered, elitist air toward the more rural Khampas and Amdowas.
Despite such diversity, all the peoples of Tibet share two basic
historical truths. The first is the prominent role of religion in daily
life. All Tibetans are believed to have descended from nomadic tribes
in the eastern part of central Asia. However, it is not their common
ethnic stock but rather a shared devotion to a unique brand of Buddhism
-- blending metaphysical teachings from India and indigenous Bon
shamanism -- that has lent them a unifying identity. With its rich
pantheon of demigods and demons filling a complex cosmology, Tibetan
Buddhism is a superstitious and highly ritualized set of beliefs that
permeates society. Traditionally, more than a quarter of Tibet's male
population -- usually one son in every household -- chose a life of
religious celibacy. Within this number, specialized monks came to serve
in such diverse roles as servants and athletes. Their sprawling
monasteries not only doubled as houses of worship and learning centers
but also held sway over vast manorial estates that managed the bulk of
national economic output. Three-quarters of the national budget, in
turn, was dedicated to education for the priesthood and maintenance of
religious institutions. [3]
Religion even came to replace Tibet's need for more traditional forms
of diplomacy. Beginning with the Mongols in 1207 -- and succeeded by
the Manchus in the eighteenth century -- there arose an enduring
priest-patron symbiosis whereby the suzerain of mainland Asia was
largely held at bay in exchange for Tibetan spiritual tutelage.
The second historical truth is that geography has been Tibet's savior.
Occupying a strategic crossroads at the heart of the Eurasian landmass,
Tibet has been coveted for centuries by surrounding empires. As a
consequence, despite its priest-patron accommodation with the suzerain,
it has repeatedly suffered the humiliation of occupation by various
neighbors.
Subjugation of the Tibetan population is a wholly different matter.
Owing to its high altitude, invaders from the lowlands invariably
weaken in Tibet's thin air. Aside from more lasting incursions onto the
edge of the Amdo plains or across the Kham river valleys, foreign
expeditions against the central plateau soon found the cost of
sustaining a military presence prohibitive, affording the Tibetan
heartland extended periods of de facto independence.
The Historical Divisions of Tibet
By the start of the twentieth century, however, these historical truths
were under pressure. The Manchu dynasty, crumbling from within and
fraying at the periphery, had its nominal control over Tibet challenged
in 1904 by a British expedition staging from India (England, vying with
Russia for imperial influence, wanted to extract trading privileges
from the Tibetan government). Looking to salvage at least the
appearance of authority, the Manchus geared up for a military drive
onto the plateau and by 1910 were occupying the Tibetan capital of
Lhasa.
Just as quickly, Tibet won a reprieve. In 1911, the Han Chinese -- who
constituted the majority of the population under Manchu domination --
rebelled against their non-Han dynastic overlords. The following year,
the last Manchu emperor abdicated the throne and was replaced by a
provisional Chinese republican government. Almost overnight, imperial
garrisons across the former empire started to revolt, enticing some of
the frontier territories to proclaim independence. This put Tibet in a
fix. For centuries, Tibetans had had few qualms about their
priest-patron quid pro quo with the Mongols and Manchus. But now facing
a secular republican regime, Tibetans felt no compulsion to continue
this arrangement with the Han Chinese. Seizing the opportunity, they
declared full autonomy and evicted the Chinese garrison in Lhasa. At
the same time, Chinese troops in Kham began deserting their posts en
masse.
Unfortunately for Lhasa, it was not to be a velvet divorce. Suddenly
empowered, the republicans had little intention of forfeiting the
irredentist claims of their predecessors. Briefly regrouping in
neighboring Szechwan Province, the Chinese headed back into Kham. With
equal determination, they dispatched a second task force on a southwest
bearing from Amdo toward the Tibetan heartland. This latter move came
easily for the republicans. Since the eighteenth century, much of Amdo
had fallen under the control of local chieftains -- primarily Hiu
Muslims -- loyal to the Manchu empire. Now these Hiu were encouraged by
the republicans not only to directly impose their will across Amdo but
also to send troops toward central Tibet.
Facing twin threats, the Tibetans looked to fight back -- not with
religion, as in the past, but by force of arms. The trouble was that
Tibet had nothing approaching a military force in the modern sense of
the term. For generations, Lhasa had seen little need for a standing
army. Among the 3,000 men it retained as a glorified border force, the
weaponry was antiquated and training virtually nil. This was especially
true of the officer corps, where senior rank was doled out as a favor
to nobility.
Scrambling to bolster this paltry force, Tibet approached the British
in India and found a mildly sympathetic ear. A shipment of new rifles
was rushed across the Himalayas; despite the limited number of weapons,
they proved a decisive factor when Lhasa not only stopped China's
offensive in Kham but actually pushed it back in some sectors. A
cease-fire was called in 1918, with Kham bisected into Chinese and
Tibetan sectors of influence along the Yangtze River. Along the Amdo
frontier, too, an accommodation was reached with the Hiu.
The truce was not to last. In 1928, Chiang Kai-shek's regimented
Kuomintang party took the reins of power within the republican
government. Stoking Han nationalist sentiment, the Kuomintang
reemphasized the goal of a unified China -- including Tibet. To realize
this goal in part, that same year it announced plans to formally absorb
Amdo and Kham as the new Chinese provinces of Tsing-hai and Sikang,
respectively.
In the case of Amdo, Muslim warlord Ma Pu-fang -- a loyalist from the
early days of the republic -- immediately complied with Kuomintang
wishes and assumed the seat as Tsinghai governor. In Kham,
consolidation was more difficult. Using Khampa clan rivalries as a
pretext for intervention, the Chinese were involved in skirmishes
during 1930. After a slow start, they gained momentum and by 1932 were
making headway across tl1e zone.
Once again, the Tibetans won a reprieve. Facing an imperial Japanese
invasion of Chinese Nationalist territory in Manchuria, and not wanting
to be distracted by a Tibetan sideshow, the Kuomintang allowed the Kham
battle lines to once again settle along the Yangtze. By the mid-1930s,
most of Tibet was again enjoying de facto independence.
For the next decade, the country's isolation served it well. While most
of the world was consumed in World War II, Tibet shrewdly walked a
neutralist tightrope and emerged unscathed with its traditional way of
life intact. lt was by no means a perfect existence, however. Tibet's
legions of monks were not above internecine struggles that sometimes
degenerated into divisive, bloody skirmishes. The religious bureaucracy
oversaw a primitive criminal code -- major crimes were punishable by
mutilation -- and enforced economic monopolies that made for an
exceedingly wide social gap. Moreover, Tibet's spiritual leaders had
shunned the introduction of most Western innovations because they
feared that modernity would erode their central standing in society.
Tibet, as a result, was the ultimate dichotomy: a nation pushing the
envelope in terms of philosophical and spiritual sophistication, yet
consciously miring itself in the technology of the Middle Ages. [4]
All this changed in early 1949. To the east of Tibet, a festering civil
war in China -- pitting Chiang Kai-shek's Kuomintang Nationalists
against communist insurgents under Mao Tse-tung -- was fast coming to a
head. Though better equipped, the Nationalists were riddled with
corruption and petty rivalries. By that fall, their defenses were
crumbling under the combined weight of ineptitude and relentless
communist pressure. Looking to regroup, the Kuomintang leadership
escaped with 400,000of its troops to the island sanctuary of Taiwan.
The communists lost no time filling the void. On 1 October, a
victorious Chairman Mao formally inaugurated the People's Republic of
China (PRC) from a new capital in Beijing. Its grip, however, was far
from consolidated. Besides facing Nationalist strongholds on Taiwan and
on the tropical island of Hainan to the south, the PRC saw itself as
heir to the Kuomintang claim over Tibet. Making no secret of its
intentions, on 1 January 1950 communist state radio declared that the
liberation of all three -- Taiwan, Hainan, and Tibet -- was the goal of
the People's Liberation Army (PLA) for the upcoming calendar year.
Of these objectives, Hainan -- separated from China by a small strait
and home to only a modest Nationalist presence -- was the easiest to
realize. The communists placed elements of four divisions aboard junks
and sailed them to the island in April 1950. With little effort, Hainan
was soon occupied.
The other targets posed major challenges. To conquer Taiwan, the PLA
not only had to cross a far larger strait but also had to contend with
Chiang Kai-shek's concentrated defenses. Counting only limited
amphibious and airborne forces in its ranks, the communists -- for the
time being -- could do little besides verbal saber rattling.
Tibet posed a different set of difficulties. Like the Mongols, Manchus,
and Nationalists before them, the PLA had to confront both distance and
altitude to reach the central Tibetan plateau. With no drivable roads
or airfields, trucks and transport aircraft were of little help.
Still, there were compelling reasons for the PLA to go forward with a
land-grab against Tibet. For one thing, the communists had already
absorbed Amdo. They had also secured a solid foothold in eastern Kham,
and the communists outnumbered Tibetan troops across the Yangtze by a
ratio of ten to one. For another thing, the Kham citizenry was far from
united. Though intensely devout toward Tibet's religious hierarchy on a
spiritual level, most Khampas were prone to interclan rivalries and
were loyal to only their families, villages, or -- at most --
districts. A sense of binding nationalist affinity toward Lhasa was
usually lacking -- in no way helped by the ill-concealed chauvinism on
the part of many central Tibetans. Khampas, as a result, were apt to
fall behind whichever side -- Lhasa or Beijing -- offered the most
attractive terms for absentee rule.
Nobody epitomized Khampa fence-straddling more than the wealthy
Pandatsang family. Led by three brothers who had grown rich on Tibet's
lucrative wool trade, the Pandatsangs were as renowned for their
commercial skills as for their fiery politicking. The eldest and most
orthodox sibling, Yangpel, held several senior Tibetan government
titles and lived in the northeastern Indian town of Kalimpong to help
run the resident Tibetan trade mission. The second brother, Ragpa, was
the family ideologue who initially advocated Tibetan autonomy within
republican China (which made him exceedingly unpopular in Lhasa), then
tried to ingratiate himself with the advancing communists. Coming full
circle, in mid-1950 he was secretly sounding out an accommodation with
the Tibetan authorities west of the Yangtze. The youngest brother,
Topgyay, was a charismatic firebrand and former officer in the Tibetan
military who had led a failed putsch against Lhasa in 1934; he was now
hedging the family's bets by offering Beijing support for any PLA
invasion of western Kham.
Such waffling was not limited to the Pandatsangs or even the Khampas.
Indeed, the PRC could take comfort in the fact that half measures and
general confusion had characterized the Tibet policy of key foreign
powers for decades. England, for one, paid lip service to "Tibetan
autonomy under Chinese suzerainty" but remained cool to giving Lhasa
all the aid it wanted or needed. India (which gained its independence
from England in 1947) also spoke sympathetically about autonomy but had
difficulty embracing Tibet with gestures more substantive than
symbolic. [5]
Whereas British and Indian policy on Tibet often meandered between word
and deed, it was nothing compared with the mental whiplash caused by
the divergent views within the U.S. government. Not until World War II
did Washington seriously explore the implications of a U.S. Tibet
relationship, Almost immediately, this resulted in a schism among
policy-making bodies. On one side was the Office of Strategic Services
(OSS), America's wartime spy agency, and the U.S. mission in New Delhi,
both of which advocated good-faith gestures toward Lhasa. This mind-set
was behind the December 1942 visit to Tibet by two OSS officers --
Captain Ilya Tolstoy and Lieutenant Brooke Dolan -- ostensibly to
survey an Allied supply route to China through Tibetan territory.
Opposing such moves were top State Department officials who, out of
deference to America's Chinese allies, did not want to stray from U.S.
recognition of what the Kuomintang declared was its sovereign
jurisdiction.
For the duration of World War II, these two camps pursued separate and
often conflicting agendas. For a brief period after the Allied victory,
OSS pragmatism fully gave way to the countervailing pro-China bias. But
by the summer of 1949, with Kuomintang defeat in the Chinese civil war
seen as increasingly likely, the United States belatedly entertained
thoughts of a policy shift. The impetus for this rethinking came from
American diplomats in both India and China, who suggested that the
United States weigh the advantages of courting Tibet before control was
forfeited to the communists.
Back in Washington, policy makers were not swayed. Even when members of
the Tibetan cabinet made a desperate plea for U.S. assistance in
gaining membership in the United Nations that December, Secretary of
State Dean Acheson flatly discouraged the idea, for fear that it might
force Beijing's hand and result in a quick takeover. Although
Washington might not have liked the idea of losing Tibet to communism,
it appeared loath to do anything to stop it. [6]
None of this was lost on the PRC. By the beginning of 1950, the PLA had
secretly charged its Southwest Military Command with the task of
consolidating control across Kham. After massing east of the Yangtze
early that spring, patrols crossed the river in late May. Apparently
intent only on testing Tibetan resolve, the Chinese soon halted the
probes and resumed a riverside stare-down.
Beijing had reason to pace its moves. Within a month after the May
incursion into Kham, the other side of Asia grew hot as North Korean
troops spilled into South Korea. For the next few months, communist
columns sliced easily through the southern defenses and nearly reached
the bottom of the peninsula. But after winning a United Nations mandate
of support, U.S.-led reinforcements rushed to the front and by 1
October had the North Korean army reeling back toward the PRC border.
For Beijing, the turn of events in Korea was both a setback to the
worldwide communist movement and a direct threat to its frontier.
Throughout the month of September, statements out of the PRC grew
increasingly shrill with each defeat of its North Korean ally. But with
world attention now focused on East Asia, North Korea's misfortunes
created an opportunity in Tibet. At the end of the first week of
October, China ordered 20,000 of its troops to "realize the peaceful
liberation of Tibet." [7]
In Lhasa, the Chinese incursion shook Tibet's authorities to the core.
Although vastly outnumbered, the Tibetan army theoretically could have
exploited Kham's rugged topography to force a protracted guerrilla
campaign. Squandering this advantage, it chose instead a strategy that
hinged on the conventional goal of defending the town of Chamdo. It was
hardly an enlightened choice. Situated on the western bank of the
Mekong headwaters, Chamdo was isolated and exposed. This allowed the
PLA to traverse the Mekong at multiple points and easily cut the town's
avenues of retreat. On 19 October, after a pathetic defensive showing
by the local garrison, Chamdo surrendered to Chinese control. After the
Tibetan commissioner-general was taken prisoner, he promptly signed
over the rest of Kham to the PRC.
Though Tibet was on the ropes, the world barely took notice. This was
because within a week after Chamdo fell, Beijing made good on its saber
rattling and dispatched a massive intervention force to the Korean
peninsula. Staggered by waves of PLA infantry, United Nations troops
were forced to retreat south.
With global attention fixed on Korea, the PLA pondered its next move in
Tibet. Although China could take satisfaction in how easily it had
taken Kham, the Korean conflict had forced the PRC to push forward its
timetable and initiate the Tibet operation before adequate preparations
were complete. For example, Tibet still lacked a transportation network
to support a military occupation of the central plateau. Moreover, it
was late in the season, and the combination of snow and altitude would
work against the PLA's lowland troops. For the interim, then, Beijing's
rule hinged on co-opting Tibet's existing monastic structure. In
particular, it needed to secure support from the kingdom's most
powerful figure, the Dalai Lama.
If religion is the lifeblood of Tibet, the Dalai Lama is its heart. A
by-product of Tibet's priest-patron relationship with the Mongols, the
title of Dalai Lama originated in the sixteenth century when a
prominent monk, or lama, met ranking Mongol chieftain Altan Khan. In an
inspired exchange, the lama declared that the Mongol was an incarnation
of a great warlord from an earlier time, while he himself was the
incarnation of that warlord's spiritual adviser. By flattering the khan
in this manner, the lama was looking to win critical Mongol support for
his particular sect of Tibetan Buddhism. The khan was duly impressed
and bestowed the monk with the title Dalai -- a partial Mongolian
translation of the lama's name -- and he was thereafter known as the
Dalai Lama. [8]
In naming himself an incarnation, the Dalai Lama was not breaking new
theological ground. Already, the practice was entrenched among
prominent Tibetan monasteries for reasons of statecraft. By using
divination to identify a child as the reborn spirit of a recently
deceased -- and celibate -- senior lama, the sects could retain a sense
of order in the succession process for their chief abbots. The Dalai
Lama took this a step further, posthumously naming two earlier monastic
leaders as his first and second incarnations.
When the third Dalai Lama died, a search commenced for his reborn soul.
Having already won considerable favor with the Mongols, the sect looked
to cement that support by shrewdly naming Altan Khan's great-grandson
as the fourth incarnation. The tactic worked: by the time the fifth
Dalai Lama came to power, he was able to count on firm Mongol backing
to spread both his religious and his temporal authority across Tibet.
The fifth Dalai Lama then asked his subjects to make an extraordinary
leap of faith. Besides calling himself an incarnation of previous sect
leaders, he boldly declared himself the earthly manifestation of one of
Tibet's most popular divinities, the Bodhisattva of Compassion. Again,
this had precedent: many other Asian rulers of the period -- in
Cambodia and Indonesia, for example -- claimed similar celestial
authority.
Coming to the fore during a golden era in Tibet's history, the fifth
Dalai Lama fit easily into the role of god-king. Subsequent Dalai
Lamas, however, did not have it so good. Several were murdered in their
prime, and most retained power for only a few short years. Most, too,
oversaw only theological decisions; political control remained firmly
in the hands of a powerful bureaucracy.
It was not until the turn of the twentieth century that the Dalai Lama
-- by then in his thirteenth incarnation -- again became Tibet's
undisputed religious and temporal leader. By all measures, it was a
critical juncture in Tibetan history. Coming off a decade of
self-imposed isolation, the country had devolved into a technological
backwater. Moreover, several foreign powers -- the British, Manchus,
and even Russians -- were all anxiously knocking at its gates.
Faced with these developments, Tibet's conservative bureaucracy had few
answers. The Thirteenth Dalai Lama, in contrast, met the challenge by
offering a relatively warm welcome to the introduction of modern
innovations. He also proved a canny survivor, twice eluding capture by
fleeing abroad during a pair of short-lived foreign invasions.
By the time the thirteenth Dalai Lama died in 1933, he left behind a
mixed legacy. Despite early momentum, most of his attempts at
modernization were ultimately stymied by the religious elite. The
country, as a result, had yet to emerge from its primeval status.
Still, Tibet was arguably enjoying greater independence than at any
time over the last few centuries.
It was with this benchmark fresh in Tibetan minds that religious search
parties scoured the kingdom for the Dalai Lama's reborn spirit. In
1937, their quest came to an end. In a small Amdo farming village, a
precocious two-year-old was identified as their ruler's fourteenth
incarnation. After being brought to the capital -- where he immediately
became the subject of national adulation -- the boy began intensive
monastic schooling. Under normal circumstances, he would have continued
his studies until the age of eighteen before being formally invested
with secular authority. But after Beijing's invasion of Kham in October
1950, Tibet feared an imminent move against the central plateau.
Desperate, the Tibetan government waived three years of preparation and
on 17 November officially recognized the fifteen-year-old Dalai Lama as
the kingdom's supreme ruler.
Though bright and energetic, the youthful leader was a most unlikely
savior. Despite being better read than most of his cloistered
predecessors, he was unversed in diplomacy and had no ready solution to
counter the approaching Chinese juggernaut. Compounding his quandary
was the fact that his ecclesiastical court of advisers was divided on
how to deal with the PRC. Many senior lamas were inclined to negotiate
away most of Lhasa's trappings of autonomy -- in economic, national
security, and foreign policy, for example -- in exchange for a free
hand in internal affairs. Such thinking was understandable, given that
recent Tibetan history was rife with examples of Lhasa's muddling
through unscathed from similar foreign threats.
Other Tibetan officials -- led by Thupten Woyden Phala, a close
assistant of the Dalai Lama, and Surkhang Shape, one of the country's
few foreign envoys -- were far less willing to concede their newfound
freedoms. This faction had been behind the appeal for support at the
United Nations in late 1949. Ignored the first time, Tibet again
petitioned the world body in November 1950 to take up its case against
Beijing's aggression. Once more, however, Tibet received little
sympathy. Finding deaf ears among the international community and
fearful of capture if he remained in Lhasa, the Dalai Lama responded in
the tradition of his immediate predecessor: he fled the capital.
Disguised as a layman and escorted by an entourage of 200, he stole out
of Lhasa on the night of 20 December (1950) and worked his way south
toward the border town of Yatung, just twenty-four kilometers from the
princely protectorate of Sikkim.
As this was taking place, American diplomats in neighboring India did
what they could to monitor the Dalai Lama's movements. Perhaps none
took a greater interest than the U.S. ambassador to India, Loy
Henderson. Dubbed a "quintessential Cold Warrior" by one Foreign
Service officer under his watch, Henderson had long harbored deep
concern for Tibet, especially the threat of PRC control extending
across the Himalayas. As far back as the summer of 1949 he had lobbied
for a more proactive U.S. policy toward Lhasa to offset this feared
Chinese advance, including sending a U.S. envoy from India to the
Tibetan capital and leaving behind a small diplomatic mission. [9]
Despite the ambassador's expressed urgency, Washington dragged its feet
on approving any bold moves. Frustrated, Ambassador Henderson felt that
the stakes were growing too high to afford continued neglect,
especially after the Dalai Lama reached Yatung in early 1951. Unless
there was some immediate future indication of moral and military
support from abroad, he cabled Washington on 12 January, the youthful
monarch might leave his kingdom and render ineffective any future
resistance to Chinese rule. [10]
But if the exile of the Dalai Lama posed problems, Henderson saw it as
preferable to having him return to Lhasa. To prevent the latter, the
ambassador took the initiative in March to pen a letter to the monarch.
Written on Indian-made stationery and lacking a signature -- thereby
affording the United States plausible deniability if it was intercepted
-- the note implored the Tibetan leader not to move back to the capital
for fear that he would be manipulated by Beijing. The letter further
urged the Dalai Lama to seek refuge overseas, preferably in the
predominantly Buddhist nation of Ceylon (now Sri Lanka).
Informing Washington of the note after it had been written, Henderson
was in for a surprise. Finally coming around to his way of thinking,
the State Department lent its approval to the scheme, with only minor
editorial changes. Two copies of the anonymous appeal were eventually
printed: one carried to Yatung by Heinrich Harrer, the Dalai Lama's
Austrian tutor who had fled Lhasa shortly before the monarch's
departure, and the second turned over to a Tibetan dignitary in
Kalimpong during Mid-May. Those forwarding the letter were told to
discreetly convey that it came from the U.S. ambassador.
The Dalai Lama did not take long to respond. On 24 May, his personal
representative sought out U.S. diplomats in Calcutta to clarify several
points regarding potential exile. Among other things, the monarch
wanted to know if Washington would grant him asylum in America and if
the United States would extend military aid to a theoretical
anti-Chinese resistance movement after his departure from Tibetan soil.
He also wanted permission for his oldest brother, Thubten Norbu, to
visit the United States.
Before the United States could respond, a shock came over the airwaves
on 26 May. Three months earlier, the Dalai Lama had dispatched two
groups of officials to China in a desperate bid to appease Beijing and
keep the Kham invasion force at bay. Arriving in the Chinese capital by
mid-April, neither group had been authorized by the Dalai Lama to make
binding decisions on the kingdom's behalf. Despite this, several weeks
of stressful talks took their toll: on 23 May, all the Tibetan
emissaries lent their names to a seventeen-point agreement with China
that virtually wiped out any prospect of an autonomous Tibetan
identity.
When news of the pact was broadcast three days later over Chinese state
radio, it was a devastating blow to the Dalai lama. Knowing that the
monarch would be under mounting pressure to formulate a response to
Beijing, Henderson received approval on 2 June to grant U.S. asylum to
the Dalai Lama and a 100-man entourage -- provided both India and
Ceylon proved unreceptive. Washington was also prepared to provide
military aid if India was amenable to transshipment. Finally, Henderson
was authorized to extend U.S. visas to Thubten Norbu and a single
servant, though both had to pay their own expenses while in America.
Given the fast pace of events, the embassy decided to send a U.S.
diplomat to Kalimpong to deal directly with Tibetan officials at their
resident trade mission. These officials were shuttling to and from the
Dalai Lama's redoubt at Yatung, and this offered the fastest means of
negotiating with the isolated monarch. Because Kalimpong fell within
the purview of the American consulate general in Calcutta, Vice Consul
Nicholas Thacher was chosen for the job. [11]
There was a major stumbling block with such indirect diplomacy,
however. The United States was looking to advance its Tibet policy in a
third country, and that country -- India -- had its own national
interests at heart. Despite being condemned by Beijing in 1949 as the
"dregs of humanity," New Delhi was doing its best to remain on good
terms with China. This precluded Indian officials from being taken into
Washington's confidence. Thacher, therefore, needed to negotiate in the
shadows.
With little time to concoct an elaborate charade, the American vice
consul prepared for the long drive from Calcutta. Taking along his
wife, young child, and nanny as cover, Thacher was to explain his
Kalimpong trip as a holiday respite if questioned by Indian
authorities. Before leaving, he was coached in the use of a primitive
code based on the local scenery. Because his only means of
communicating from Kalimpong was via telegraph -- no doubt monitored by
Indian intelligence -- he would rely on this code to send updates to
the Calcutta consulate.
Heading north, Thacher and his family drove thirteen hours to the hill
station of Darjeeling. Like other British hill resorts, Darjeeling had
been a summer capital for British colonial administrators looking to
escape the sweltering low-lands. Like other hill stations, too, the
town had earned fame as a recreation center for the social elite; its
grand lodges and scenic gardens were set against the breathtaking
backdrop of Kanchenjunga, the world's third tallest mountain.
Darjeeling was further renowned for producing the champagne of teas;
picked from Chinese bushes grown on the surrounding estates, British
connoisseurs rated the local leaves as the best in the subcontinent.
Driving another fifty kilometers east, Thacher pulled into Kalimpong on
15 June. Compared with Darjeeling and its amenities, Kalimpong ranked
as a minor resort. Still, the town factored prominently in the
trans-Himalayan economy because for generations it had served as the
final destination for mule caravans hauling products -- primarily wool
-- from Tibet. At any given time, there was a significant community of
Tibetan merchants in town, making it a logical site for that country's
only overseas trade office.
After dropping off his family at an inn run by Scottish expatriates,
Thacher had little trouble locating the Tibetan mission. Entering, he
introduced himself in English to the ensemble of officials. Sizing up
the lone youthful diplomat, they reacted with collective
disappointment. "They were expecting more, " he surmised. [12]
Given few specific instructions, Thacher set about explaining the U.S.
offer to grant asylum and material assistance. Very quickly, the vice
consul was struck by the lack of realism displayed by Lhasa's envoys.
"There was a sense of the absurd," he later commented. "They were
talking wistfully in terms of America providing them with tanks and
aircraft." Thacher did his best to downplay expectations before taking
his leave and making his way to the telegraph office to send a coded
report to Calcutta. "It probably amused the Indian intelligence
officers who were monitoring the transmissions," said Thacher. "They
never raised the issue with us, probably because they thought it would
not amount to much and was not worth the trouble of souring Indo-U.S.
relations." [13]
If this was the case, the Indians were right. Hearing of the latest
U.S. promises, the Tibetans found little reason for cheer. The offer of
U.S. asylum, for example, was to be granted only if Asian options were
exhausted, even though the Dalai Lama was adamant that he wanted exile
only in America. Military aid, too, was moot, because it was contingent
on Indian approval -- a near impossibility, given New Delhi's desire to
maintain cordial ties with China.
Twenty-nine years old, Thubten Norbu was an important Tibetan religious
figure in his own right. As a child, he had been named the incarnation
of a famed fifteenth-century monk. Studying at the expansive Kumbum
monastery not far from his home village in Amdo, Norbu had risen to
chief abbot by 1949. When Amdo was occupied by the PLA that fall, he
came under intense Chinese pressure to lobby his brother on Beijing's
behalf. Feigning compliance, he ventured to Lhasa in November 1950. But
rather than sell the PRC, he presented a graphic report of Chinese
excesses in Amdo. [14]
Because Beijing no doubt viewed Norbu's act as treachery, the Dalai
Lama was anxious to see his brother leave Tibet. He succeeded up to a
point, spiriting Norbu to Kalimpong by the first week of June 1951. But
with Indian Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru doing his best to remain
warm with the Chinese, there was ample reason to suspect that the
Indian authorities would soon make life uncomfortable for him. The
promise of a U.S. visa offered the chance for a timely exit from the
subcontinent.
Just when Norbu's departure seemed secure, however, complications
arose. Neither he nor his accompanying servant had passports, and they
had fled Tibet with insufficient funds to pay for extended overseas
travel. Thus, both of them needed to quickly secure some form of
sponsorship.
At that point, the U.S. Central Intelligence Agency (CIA) stepped
forward with a ready solution. By coincidence only weeks earlier the
agency had inaugurated the perfect vehicle for discreetly channeling
financial support to persons like the Dalai Lama's brother. On 18 May,
the San Francisco-based Committee for a Free Asia (CFA) had been
formally unveiled to the public as a means to "render effective
assistance to Asians in advancing personal and national liberty
throughout their homelands." The committee's charter further declared
its intention to assist noncommunist travelers, refugees, and exiles in
order to "strengthen Asian resistance to communism." Left unsaid was
the fact that the committee was made possible by financial assistance
from the CIA. [15]
The plight of Thubten Norbu meshed perfectly with the committee's
goals. On 18 June, the embassy in New Delhi was informed that full
sponsorship of Norbu's U.S. visit would be assumed by the CFA. If
quizzed by the press, Norbu would allegedly be seeking medical
treatment for rheumatism of the legs and might also use the opportunity
to take English language classes at the University of California at
Berkeley, near the committee's headquarters. [16]
With the sponsorship issue resolved and using temporary Indian
identification papers (New Delhi, eager to avoid diplomatic
embarrassment, had facilitated a quick departure), Norbu arrived in
Calcutta on 24 June with plans to catch a flight to the United States
within two weeks. Before leaving, he met with members of the U.S.
consulate and was informed that Washington would support a third
Tibetan appeal to the United Nations, provided the Dalai Lama publicly
disavowed the 23 May agreement with China. Norbu assured the diplomats
that his brother, despite his curious silence to date, did not approve
of the May pact and was still intent on seeking overseas asylum. [17]
As scheduled, Norbu departed India on 5 July. Accompanying him was his
loyal servant Jentzen Thondup. Two years Norbu's senior, Jentzen hailed
from a neighboring village in Amdo and had tended to his master since
the latter's schooling at Kumbum. Neither spoke much English, though
they carried a guide-book written forty-two years earlier by an Indian
Baptist missionary. Landing in London in transit, they reportedly
answered questions at the immigration counter with such inappropriate
retorts as, "There are a great many landlords under the British." [18]
>From London, the pair continued to New York. Getting off the plane,
they were shocked to be greeted by a white man speaking their native
Amdo dialect. Their chaperone, Robert Ekvall, had a fascinating
personal history. Born in 1898 on the China-Tibet border near Amdo,
Ekvall had grown up speaking Chinese and Tibetan. After primary school,
he worked as a missionary among the Chinese, Muslims, and Tibetans in
that area. In 1944, he joined the U.S. Army as a China area expert and
served in that country as a military attache near the end of the civil
war. Given his unique linguistic ability and cultural sensitivity,
Ekvall was put on retainer by the CFA to assist Norbu for the duration
of his stay in America.
As his first order of business, Ekvall escorted Norbu and Jentzen for a
night's rest at New York's posh Waldorf-Astoria. Reporters curious
about the new arrivals were fed the bromide about Norbu's rheumatism
and intended study at Berkeley. In reality, the Tibetans were whisked
the following day to Washington for meetings with State Department and
CIA officials.
Norbu had arrived at a critical juncture. By the close of June, Thacher
and his family had concluded their faux vacation and returned to
Calcutta. In order to maintain coverage in Kalimpong, Thacher was to be
replaced by another consulate official. Given that assignment was
Robert Linn, head of the small CIA base in Calcutta.
By chance, several weeks earlier, Linn had happened across a key
Tibetan contact. While exploring Calcutta by foot, he had taken note of
an Asian woman and three men dressed in ornate ethnic attire who had
taken up residence near the consulate. Striking up a conversation with
the group, Linn received a windfall when he learned that the woman was
Tsering Dolma, the elder sister of Norbu and the Dalai Lama. She had
been in Calcutta since early 1950 seeking medical treatment. [19]
When Linn got orders to proceed to Kalimpong, he immediately sought out
Tsering Dolma, who agreed to escort him and assist with introductions.
Despite her company, however, he found the Kalimpong crowd of little
help in swaying the teenage monarch and his conservative courtesans
across the border at Yatung. On 11 July, Linn passed word to the
Calcutta consulate that the Dalai Lama intended to return to Lhasa in
ten days. [20]
With time running short, officials in Washington imposed on Norbu to
translate a message for the Dalai Lama into Tibetan. This, along with
two more unsigned letters prepared by the U.S. embassy in New Delhi,
was quickly forwarded to Yatung. Embassy officials even flirted with
fanciful plans for Heinrich Harrer, the monarch's former tutor, and
George Patterson, an affable Scottish missionary who had once preached
in Kham, to effectively kidnap the Dalai Lama and bundle him off to
India.
All these efforts were to no avail. On 21 July, the monarch heeded
advice channeled under trance by the state oracle and departed Yatung
on a slow caravan back to the Tibetan capital. Still unwilling to
concede defeat, American diplomats continued to smuggle unsigned
messages to the Dalai Lama while he was en route. Trying a slightly
more bold tack, Ambassador Henderson received approval on 10 September
to write a signed note on official government letterhead. Tibetan
representatives in India were allowed to briefly view the document the
following week and verbally convey its contents to their leader. The
United States, read this last message, was now prepared to publicly
support Tibetan autonomy. In addition, Washington vowed to assist an
anti-Chinese resistance movement with such material as may be "feasible
under existing political and physical conditions."
Even if the Dalai Lama's interest was piqued by the latest round of
promises, it was probably too late for him to act. He arrived in Lhasa
during mid-August, and PLA troops were sighted in the capital by early
the following month. On 28 September, the Tibetan national assembly
convened to debate the controversial seventeen-point agreement signed
the previous May. Less than one month later, confirmation was sent to
Mao Tse-tung that the kingdom accepted the accord. Tibet was now
officially part of the People's Republic of China."
Geir
Let the truth be known and never disappear as it usually has been
doing.
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- TIGHTROPE
On 13 February 1952, Thubten Norbu and his chaperone-cum-translator
Robert Ekvall arrived at Foggy Bottom for a meeting with the new
assistant secretary of state for Far Eastern affairs, John Allison. The
reason for the tryst was the arrival of a secret letter from the Dalai
lama addressed to his eldest brother.
Messages from the Tibetan leader had come before, but nothing like
this. In marked contrast to the urgency of earlier communications, the
Dalai lama was now subdued and measured. Four months after the Tibetan
government had conceded on the seventeen-point agreement with Beijing,
the monarch was now clearly hedging his bets. The Chinese were thus far
being "correct and careful," he wrote, and he was determined to treat
them in kind. As if to offset any perceived tilt toward Beijing, the
letter instructed Norbu to maintain contact with U.S. officials and not
allow for any "misunderstandings."
That Tibet's spiritual leader was writing in such pragmatic terms was
not necessarily bad news at the upper echelons of the State Department.
It had been senior department officials, after all, who had kept
Ambassador Henderson at bay for so long. Now using the Dalai lama's own
sentiments as cover, Allison had no need to apologize when he assured
Norbu that the United States remained sympathetic but noncommittal.
Allison went further, advocating that the United States not invite
undue attention to Tibet by making any public statements. [1]
Although Allison was effectively writing off Tibet, Norbu saw it
otherwise. Judging from the pleasantries exchanged around the room, he
logically concluded that the Americans concurred with the Dalai lama's
approach. Offering thanks to Allison, he departed.
It would be another three months before Norbu was back in contact, this
time offering a decidedly different spin on events in his homeland.
Allegedly tapping his own private sources, he claimed that the Dalai
lama was continuing with a long-term master plan to appear compliant
with China's wishes while secretly organizing resistance against them.
Tibetans in the capital, he claimed, had recently sworn oaths of
allegiance to the Dalai lama and affirmed their opposition to the
Chinese.
Hearing this news, State Department officials in Washington admitted
that they had little ability to verify its validity. Norbu, after all,
had a vested interest in making it sound as if his brother were playing
the Chinese according to a clever script, not the other way around.
Still, the department's China desk thought that there was enough
circumstantial evidence indicating that the Chinese in Tibet were
encountering difficulties. On the pretext that the United States should
allow China to make further missteps, the desk counseled continued
restraint from both public statements and attempts to contact persons
in Tibet who might be making the first move toward organizing an
anticommunist resistance. Taking a pen to the margin of the source
text, Assistant Secretary of State Allison wrote, "I agree." [2]
With those words, any residual thoughts of an activist Tibet policy by
Washington entered into full remission. Plans to come to Lhasa's
defense -- overtly or covertly, verbally or physically -- were shelved.
Norbu himself lost relevance; in short order he left Washington for a
brief English course at Berkeley before traveling to Japan for the 1952
conference of the Buddhist World Fellowship. While in Tokyo, both
Norbu's sponsorship by the Committee for a Free Asia and his Indian
identification papers expired. [3] In a telling rejection, his
application for readmission to the United States was turned down,
stranding the Dalai Lama's sibling in Japan as a gilded refugee.
Although Washington had no intention of coming to Tibet's assistance,
it still needed to keep apprised of events in the region. In the summer
of 1952, however, Tibet was more inaccessible than ever. Much as
Ambassador Henderson had lamented a year earlier, most reports
forwarded from the New Delhi embassy were either unreliable extracts
from the Indian press or "wishfully warped" official views from the
government of India. [4] One notable exception was the unique window
provided by the princely state of Sikkim.
A sparse populated cluster of mountains roughly half the size of
Connecticut, Sikkim appeared to be an unlikely font of information. But
squeezed among India to the south, Nepal to the west, Tibet to the
north, and Bhutan to the southeast, it sat at the crossroads of the
Himalayas. Sikkim also possessed several key mountain passes linking
the Indian lowlands to the Tibetan plateau. These features attracted
the attention of the British, who absorbed the territory in 1817 as an
appendage to their vast Indian holdings.
Over the next 130 years, the British afforded Sikkim semiautonomous
status and allowed its royals to remain in effective control. Since the
16th century, a line of chogyal, or "heavenly kings," had been both
temporal and spiritual rulers of the state. Devotees of the same
stylized form of Buddhism practiced in Tibet, these Sikkimese kings
presided over an elite caste with its share of palace intrigue -- some
of it deadly. In the 18th century, for example, a half sister of the
reigning chogyal helped assassinate the king by opening an artery as he
rested in a hot tub; she was later strangled with a scarf for her
treachery.
It was with this traditional system of leadership intact that Sikkim
approached the mid 20th century. By 1947, however, its future was
suddenly in doubt. The British were gone, and a new set of Indian
authorities had come to power in New Delhi. Although the princely
states were theoretically entitled to declare their independence, in
reality, the Indian leadership was making every attempt to entice them
into a federal republic.
Sikkim was one such case. Beginning in 1947 and continuing for the next
three years, its royals scrambled to salvage some form of autonomy that
would safeguard their exalted status. Unfortunately for Sikkim, its
reigning monarch, Maharaja Tashi Namgyal (Britain had insisted on the
change from chogyal to the lesser term maharaja, or prince, to keep
Sikkim's leader on a par with other rulers across the subcontinent),
was hardly in a position to negotiate. An inscrutable recluse, he
frittered away most of his time painting and meditating. [5]
The job of negotiating with the Indians went to the prince's son and
heir apparent, Palden Thondup. Commonly known as the maharaja kumar, or
crown prince, he was a relative newcomer to politics. Recognized at
birth as the reincarnation of his late uncle, he appeared destined for
a monastic life. But after the untimely death of his elder brother
during World War II, he suddenly moved up the succession ladder and was
thrust into government service.
Charming and well educated -- he had spent time at a British college --
the crown prince quickly assumed all governing responsibilities from
his father. In 1947, he ventured to New Delhi to initiate talks with
the Indian government. Through force of personality, he was able to win
a three-year stay on any decision about Sikkim's integration into the
republic. In early 1950, he again ventured to New Delhi. If anything,
his audience had grown more fickle in the interim. The previous year,
the Indian government had granted generous autonomy to the neighboring
kingdom of Bhutan, and it was reluctant to make concessions to yet
another Himalayan territory.
Undeterred, the crown prince, then only twenty-seven years old,
persisted with a convincing legal pitch that the special privileges
extended by the British set Sikkim apart from the other princely
states. The result was a December treaty whereby the protectorate of
Sikkim was free to manage domestic matters but allowed India to
regulate its foreign affairs, defense, and trade.
Sikkim
The Sikkimese royals saw leeway in this pact. Though prohibited from
making independent foreign policy, they believed that it was still
within their right to retain a degree of international personality.
This held obvious appeal for the United States, which appreciated
Sikkim's unique perspective on Himalayan events, on account of its
royals being related by blood and marriage to the elite in neighboring
Bhutan and Tibet. But it also meant walking a fine diplomatic
tightrope, as American contact with the Sikkimese ran the risk of
agitating India. In the spring of 1951, the U.S. consulate in Calcutta
gingerly tested the waters. The Chinese had already invaded Kham, and
Larry Dalley, a young CIA officer who had arrived in the city the
previous fall under cover of vice consul, was eager to collect good
intelligence on events across the border. He knew that two members of
Sikkim's royal family frequented Calcutta and would be good sources of
information.
The first, Pema Tseudeun, was the older sister of the crown prince.
Popularly known by the name Kukula, she was the stunning, urbane
archetype of a Himalayan princess. Her contact with American officials
actually dated back to 1942, when she had been in Lhasa as the teenage
wife of a Tibetan nobleman. OSS officers Tolstoy and Dolan had just
arrived in the Tibetan capital that December and were preparing to
present a gift from President Franklin Roosevelt to the young Dalai
Lama. The gift was in a plain box, and the two Americans were
scrambling to find suitable wrapping. "I came forward," she recalls,
"and donated the bright red ribbon in my hair." [7]
For the next eight years, Kukula had it good. Married into the powerful
Phunkang family (her father-in-law was a cabinet official), she now had
considerable holdings in Lhasa. After the Chinese invasion of Kham,
however, all was in jeopardy. Leaving many of her possessions back in
Tibet, she fled to the safety of Sikkim. There she became a close
adviser to the crown prince, accompanying her brother to New Delhi that
December to finalize their state's treaty with India.
The second royal in Calcutta, Pema Choki, was Kukula's younger sister.
Better known as Princess Kula, she was every bit as beautiful and
sophisticated as her sibling. Kula was also married to a Tibetan of
high status; her father-in-Iaw, Yutok Dzaza, had been a ranking
official at the trade mission in Kalimpong. Both Kukula and Kula were
regulars on the Indian diplomatic circuit. "They came to many of the
consulate's social functions," remembers Nicholas Thacher, "and were
known for their ability to perform all of the latest dance numbers."
[8]
Not all of that contact, CIA officer Dalley determined, was social.
After arranging for a meeting with Princess Kukula at his apartment, he
asked her if she thought the Tibetans might need anything during their
current crisis. Kukula suggested that they could use ammunition and
said that she would bring a sample of what they needed to their next
meeting. True to her word. the princess appeared at Dalley's apartment
bearing a round for a British Lee-Enfield rifle. She also mentioned
that waves of Tibetan traders came to India almost quarterly to get
treatment for venereal disease (a scourge in Tibet) and to pick up food
shipments for import. Particularly popular at the time were tins of New
Zealand fruits packed in heavy syrup.
Based on this information, Dalley devised a plan to substitute bullets
for the fruit. He went as far as pouching Kukula's bullet and a sample
tin label to CIA headquarters -- all to no avail. "They laughed at the
scheme," he recalls. [9]
Later that spring, the U.S. consulate in Calcutta again turned to the
Sikkimese royals for help. At the time, the Dalai Lama was holed up in
the border town of Yatung, and CIA officer Robert Linn was
brainstorming ways of facilitating indirect contact with the monarch.
Two of those he asked to assist in passing notes were Kukula and Kula.
Although the Tibetan leader ultimately elected not to go into exile, it
was not for want of trying on the part of the princesses. [10]
One year later, Sikkim's royals once more proved their willingness to
help. In June 1952, Kukula approached the consulate with an oral
message from the Dalai Lama. She had just returned from a visit to her
in-laws in Lhasa, and although she had not personally seen the Dalai
Lama, she had been given information from Kula's father-in-Iaw, Yutok
Dzaza, who had been in Lhasa at the same time, circulating among senior
government circles. [11] Kukula quoted the Dalai Lama as saying that
when the time was propitious for liberation, he hoped the United States
would give material aid and moral support. Kukula also passed
observations about food shortages in Lhasa and about the desperate
conditions of the vast majority of Chinese troops in that city. [12]
To maintain the flow of such useful information, the consulate
continued its discreet courtship of the Sikkimese sisters. Part of the
task fell to Gary Soulen, the ranking Foreign Service officer in
Calcutta. In September 1952, Soulen obtained Indian approval to visit
Sikkim for a nature trek. Venturing as far as the Natu pass on the
Tibetan frontier, Princess Kukula accompanied him on the trip and
imparted more anecdotes about the situation in Lhasa. [13]
CIA officials, too, were looking to make inroads. Kenneth Millian, who
replaced Larry Dalley in October 1952 under cover as vice consul,
counted the Sikkimese as one of his primary targets. By that time,
however, the Indians were doing everything in their power to obstruct
contact. On one of the rare occasions when he got permission to visit
the Sikkimese capital of Gangtok, for example, New Delhi leaked a false
report to the press that the American vice president -- not vice consul
-- was scheduled to make an appearance. As a result, entire villages
turned out expecting to see Richard Nixon. "Discreet contact," lamented
Millian, "became all but impossible." [14]
Occasional trysts with the Sikkimese were conducted by another CIA
officer in Calcutta, John Turner. Born of American parents in India,
Turner spent his formative years attending school in Darjeeling. He
then went to college in the United States, followed by a stint in the
army and induction into the agency in 1948. For his first overseas CIA
assignment, he was chosen in May 1952 to succeed Robert Linn as the
senior CIA officer in Calcutta. Given his cultural background and
fluency in Hindi, Turner was well suited for the job. "I felt very much
at home," he later commented.
The Sikkimese, Turner found, needed no prompting to maintain contact
"They offered us tidbits of intelligence to try and influence U.S.
policy," he concluded. "They were never on the payroll; they were not
that sort of people." Some of the best tidbits came from the crown
prince himself. "He was not the kind of person comfortable in dark
alleys," quipped Turner. "He would make open, official visits to the
consulate, and was the guest of honor with the consul general." [15]
As an aside to these visits, the prince would pass Turner relevant
information about Tibet. One such meeting took place in the spring of
1954 immediately after the crown prince's return from a trip to Lhasa.
While in the Tibetan capital, the prince had spoken with the Dalai
lama, whom he found unhappy but resigned to his fate. Even more
revealing, the Chinese had feted their Sikkimese guest by showing off
their new Damshung airfield north of Lhasa and had motored him along a
fresh stretch of road leading into Kham. Turner found the debriefing so
informative that he recorded the entire session and sent a voluminous
report back to Washington. [16]
In retrospect, the crown prince had been made privy to the twin pillars
behind Beijing's strategy for absorbing Tibet. Ever since it had first
invaded western Kham in late 1950, the PLA knew that it could not
sustain its presence without a modern logistical network. As the
Chinese worked feverishly to complete this, they retained the existing
monastic structure -- including the Dalai lama -- and attempted to woo
Tibet's lay aristocracy. They were fairly successful in winning support
from the latter, especially since many aristocrats profited from the
sudden influx of needy Chinese troops and administrators. [17]
This soft sell was not without its problems. In 1952, the Dalai lama
was pressured into firing his dual prime ministers over alleged
anti-Chinese sentiment. There were also food shortages due to the
presence of the occupying troops, as well as the affront they
represented to Tibetan prestige. Various forms of nonviolent resistance
-- anonymous posters and sarcastic street rhymes were the preferred
outlets -- were already becoming commonplace in Lhasa.
Still, both the Tibetans and the Chinese had seen fit to abide by an
unofficial truce. This lasted up until Beijing's transportation network
was nearing completion. With the new option of rushing reinforcements
to the Tibetan plateau, the PLA had the flexibility of eclipsing carrot
with stick.
Beijing wasted no time driving the point home. Just weeks after the
crown prince's 1954 visit, the Dalai Lama was invited to the Chinese
capital, ostensibly to lead the Tibetan delegation to the inauguration
ceremonies for the PRC's new constitution. Though many members of his
inner circle were suspicious of Chinese intentions, the young monarch
-- still determined to work within the system -- had little choice but
to heed the call. He even made it a family affair, bringing along his
mother, three siblings, and a brother-in-law.
On 11 July, the Dalai Lama and his 500-person entourage departed Lhasa.
Where possible, they took stretches of the partially finished road that
wove east through Kham. Once in Beijing, the visit started out well.
Partial to socialist precepts, the Dalai Lama had few qualms with
China's economic direction; he had already voiced support for radical
land reforms at home, although the landed aristocracy and religious
elite had successfully thwarted implementation. The Dalai Lama was also
treated with respect by the upper echelons of China's communist
hierarchy; Mao Tse-tung, in particular, doted on the teenage monarch.
But it was Mao who made a major gaff that would cloud the entire trip.
Taking the Dalai Lama aside to impart a bit of fatherly wisdom, the
chairman likened religion to poison. To a person who devoted his life
to cultivating his spiritual side -- and whose people believed that he
had one foot firmly in the celestial world -- this was blasphemy of the
highest order.
Worse was to come. By the time the Dalai Lama headed home in the spring
of 1955, the road leading from Kham to Lhasa was fully finished. A
second route from Amdo to the capital was also complete. No longer
feeling the need to be tolerant, the Chinese introduced atheist
doctrine in Tibetan schools. The PLA also started disarming villagers
in eastern Tibet prior to the implementation of harsh agrarian
collectivization; as firearms were a cultural fixture in Kham and Amdo,
their removal struck at a tenet of Tibetan tradition. As the Dalai Lama
wove his way west, several Khampa leaders presented his entourage with
petitions complaining of Beijing's heavy-handed ways.
During that same time frame, a hint of the dissatisfaction brewing in
Kham reached the U.S. consulate in Calcutta via a different channel.
John Turner, the CIA base chief, had been approached by George
Patterson for an urgent meeting in the town of Kalimpong. Patterson,
the Scottish missionary who had volunteered his services to the
consulate in the past, was making the pitch on behalf of Ragpa
Pandatsang, the same activist from the wealthy Kham trading family who
had been alternately flirting with Lhasa and Beijing since 1950. Ragpa
had done reasonably well for himself under the Chinese -- he was a
senior official in the town of Markham -- but in a characteristic
twist, he was now venturing to India to quietly sound out noncommunist
options.
Based on middleman Patterson's request, Turner made his way to
Kalimpong. By that time, the hill town had drawn a sizable roster of
eclectic expatriates. One permanent fixture, Prince Peter of Greece and
Denmark, was a physical anthropologist who spent his time measuring
skulls. There was also Dennis Conan Doyle, who made a brief appearance
in an unsuccessful bid to contact the spirit of his late father,
Arthur. Joining them were die-hard followers of the late Madame Helena
Blavatsky, the debunked Ukrainian psychic whose nonsensical Theosophist
religion had the unenviable distinction of being one of the tenets of
the Nazi's Aryan master race thesis. [18]
Arriving at a house owned by the Pandatsang family, Turner waited
outside. Perfectly timed, Ragpa materialized from out of the dawn mist
on the back of a Tibetan pony. "He was apparently on his morning
gallop," recalls Turner, "and he cut quite a figure." Dismounting, the
Khampa greeted the CIA case officer. Patterson, who had befriended the
Pandatsang family during his missionary days in Kham, was on hand to
act as translator. After brief pleasantries, Ragpa touched lightly on
the fact that the Khampas were looking for assistance in resisting the
Chinese, including armaments. Without exchanging anything further of
substance, he remounted the horse and melted back into the hills. Said
Turner, "It was a surreal moment." [19]
Although Ragpa's approach to the CIA went nowhere (as did similar
meetings he had with Indian officials and Tibetan trade representatives
in Kalimpong), his hint about armed resistance proved prophetic. By the
close of 1955, the combination of factors simmering over the previous
year -- atheist indoctrination, forceful disarming of the population,
rapid collectivization -- sparked a wave of violence in eastern Tibet.
True to their brigand reputation, nomads from the Golok region of Amdo
were the first to unleash their fury on PLA garrisons across that
province. [21]
Eastern Kham followed suit in early 1956. Whereas the Amdo revolt was
spontaneous and unorganized, the Khampas were more deliberate. Many of
their pon (clan chieftains) had already taken to the hills after the
PLA demanded compliance with agrarian reforms. With the chieftain from
the town of Lithang (also spelled Litang) taking the lead, a
coordinated attack was planned for the eighteenth day of the first
lunar phase of the year. Although preemptive Chinese arrests threw off
that timetable by four days, some twenty-three clan leaders ultimately
responded to the call and laid siege to a string of isolated Chinese
posts. [22]
The PLA responded in force. That February, Beijing dispatched several
of its massive Tupolev-4 bombers over the Tibetan plateau. Because of
their poor performance at high altitudes, the planes flew uncomfortably
close to the terrain. This allowed guerrillas to fire down from
ridgelines on the large, slow aircraft; one Tupolev returned to base
with seventeen bullet holes. [24]
Still, thousands of Khampas and Amdowas died in the ensuing air
campaign, buying time for the PLA to deploy ground reinforcements and
retake lost garrisons. Particularly hard hit was Lithang; its grand
monastery, home to 5,000 monks, was razed.
As this was taking place, the Dalai Lama faced mounting challenges on
the political front. While in Beijing during 1955, he had been
informed by Mao that a Preparatory Committee for the Autonomous Region
of Tibet (PCART) would be formed to codify Tibet's status under the
seventeen-point agreement. The committee was inaugurated in Lhasa
during April 1956, with the Dalai Lama as chairman; the majority of
PCART members, however, were either directly or indirectly named by the
PRC. In this way, Beijing effectively bypassed both Tibet's cabinet and
the National Assembly.
Between Beijing's PCART ploy and news filtering into the capital of
Chinese brutality in the east, the Dalai Lama was fast reaching his
breaking point by mid-1956. Just shy of his twenty-first birthday, he
had already entertained thoughts of withdrawing from all secular life.
It was at this critical juncture that his earlier foreign guest, the
crown prince of Sikkim, made a return visit to Lhasa.
The crown prince was on more than a courtesy call. Back in April 1954,
New Delhi had signed a landmark agreement with Beijing regarding trade
with the "Tibet region of China." Building on India's desired role as
arbitrator between East and West, as well as Nehru's own self-styled
image as a champion for peace, New Delhi had intended the treaty as a
means of blunting Chinese actions in Tibet by moral containment. But
with reports of the harsh Chinese policy in eastern Tibet reaching
India, the tack did not seem to be working. [25]
Disturbed by Beijing's lack of restraint, Nehru suddenly developed some
backbone. By coincidence, the 2,500-year anniversary of the birth of
Buddha was to be celebrated during the fourth lunar month of 1957.
Special events to mark that date, known as the Buddha Jayanti, were
scheduled across India beginning in late 1956. If the Dalai Lama could
be enticed to travel to India for the occasion, New Delhi felt that
this would symbolically underscore its interest in the well- being of
Tibet and its leader. Because he already had good rapport with the
Dalai Lama, and because he was president of the Indian Maha Bodhi
Society (an organization that represented Buddhists across the Indian
subcontinent), the crown prince was tasked by Nehru to deliver the
invitation.
Upon receiving his Sikkimese guest and hearing the news, the Dalai Lama
was ecstatic. For a Tibetan, a pilgrimage to India -- especially one
that coincided with the Buddha Jayanti -- had all the connotations of a
visit to the holy sites of Rome or Mecca. But more important, it would
allow him to air his concerns directly to Nehru and perhaps offset
Chinese influence. Perhaps, too, he could finally make good on his
earlier contemplation of exile. Some of his minders, in fact, were
convinced that the latter could be arranged, despite the fact that no
nation, India included, had given any solid guarantee of asylum. [26]
Having delivered the invitation, the crown prince returned to India and
on 28 June made his way to the U.S. consulate in Calcutta. Speaking
directly with the senior diplomat, Consul General Robert Reams, he
noted the apparent desire of the Dalai lama to leave his country. The
crown prince also relayed stories reaching Lhasa about horrific
fighting taking place in eastern Tibet, offering Washington hearsay
evidence that anti-Chinese resistance had escalated into armed
rebellion. Noting the apparent lack of weapons among the insurgents,
the prince astutely suggested channeling arms from East Pakistan
(presumably via Sikkim) to Tibet. And in a more fanciful departure, he
wondered aloud if the United States could "exfiltrate" Tibetans from
Burma and Thailand -- ostensibly while on religious pilgrimages -- and
give them artillery and antiaircraft training. [27]
The United States was clearly unprepared for this turn of events. For
more than four years, Washington's Tibet policy had basically been to
have no policy. Now the specter of the Dalai lama's exile had returned.
Complicating matters, the Tibetans had shifted from passive resistance
to an armed struggle. For nearly four weeks, Foggy Bottom contemplated
a response. When it finally came on 24 July, it was remarkable for its
lack of originality. Falling back on the waffle perfected in 1951,
Washington was prepared to extend a shifty promise of asylum, provided
the Dalai Lama first asked India for help. No response was made to the
crown prince's musings about arms and training.
It was unlikely that the U.S. offer would ever be put to the test.
Hearing of the Buddha Jayanti invitation, senior Chinese authorities in
Lhasa immediately threw water on the plan. Claiming that the Dalai Lama
would have a tight schedule for upcoming PCART activities, they made
clear their opposition to any foreign travel.
If the young monarch was frustrated, so too was India's Nehru. It was
his prestige on the line following the 1954 treaty on Tibet. Moreover,
with reports now beginning to circulate about the extent of the
destruction in eastern Tibet, he felt the need to make a stand. [28] On
1 October, Nehru telegraphed an official invitation to the Dalai Lama
to supplement the one forwarded earlier by the crown prince.
Grudgingly, Beijing considered the new appeal from its treaty partner,
and exactly one month later, the Chinese conceded. Tibet's young leader
would be leaving his country."
Geir
exposure of this topic because this concerns all of Tibetans worldwide
and should be knownato all that monitor this subject. This full thread,
the rot in Tibetan Buddhism and the full picture of Tibet's past,
during the exile, - and before and after it - are all essential to
understanding... or else one sits in the darkness of iignorance which
is not the path taught and propounded by the Buddha.
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- THE PRODIGAL SON
During the second week of September 1956, CIA officer John Hoskins
arrived at Calcutta's Dum Dum Airport to a blast of late summer heat.
At twenty-nine, he had already spent two years recruiting agents in
Japan and another four shuttling between Washington desk assignments
and vigorous tradecraft instruction. [1] Now assigned to the Calcutta
consulate, his new post was an experiment of sorts. The CIA's Far East
Division had just gotten permission to station its officers at any
diplomatic mission where overseas Chinese were found in numbers. This
meant superimposing Far East Division personnel outside of their home
turf -- in this case, in India of the Near East Division. [2]
In Calcutta, Hoskins could choose from a wealth of Chinese targets.
Topping the list was the PRC's consulate and the People's Bank of China
branch, both of which had been opened following the 1954 Sino-Indian
trade agreement. In addition, some 30,000 Chinese expatriates --
three-quarters of all those living in India -- made their homes in and
around the city.
Hoskins landed the secondary assignment of preening non-Chinese sources
in the Himalayan states along the Tibetan border. Just as case officer
Kenneth Millian had found out four years earlier, however, the Indians
went out of their way to obstruct such efforts. "Overseas Chinese were
fair game for penetration," recalls Hoskins, "but the others were
considered under Indian hegemony." [3] This was driven home when Mary
Hawthorne, a CIA officer assigned to Calcutta, allowed Jigme Thondup (a
Bhutanese royal who later became prime minister) and his family to
spend the night at her apartment. When the Indians learned of the
incident, their outcry was so shrill that Hawthorne was forbidden by
her superiors to attempt any similar invitations. [4]
Mindful of Indian surveillance, Hoskins made plans for an exceedingly
discreet approach to establish his own ties with Princess Kukula of
Sikkim. As she was known to have an affinity for equestrian events, he
first considered making an overture at the Tibetan pony races held in
Darjeeling. But because the crowds were small and whites were sure to
attract notice, Hoskins instead opted to wait until she came to
Calcutta for one of the city's thoroughbred competitions. Blending with
the event's large number of Western spectators, he approached the
princess. But Kukula, Hoskins found, had more reservations than in the
past. "She wanted to keep contacts strictly social," he concluded. "She
was not serious about getting involved."
As things turned out, the services of the Sikkimese royals would soon
prove redundant. When the United States learned that the Dalai Lama had
gotten permission in early November to attend the Buddha Jayanti
celebrations, the CIA scrambled to bypass Sikkim and establish direct
links with Tibetan sources close to the monarch. [5]
None were closer than the Dalai Lama's two brothers in exile. The
eldest, Thubten Norbu, already had a history of indirect contact with
the agency via the Committee for a Free Asia. After he had been
unceremoniously dropped from CFA funding in 1952, both he and his
servant, Jentzen Thondup, had become stateless refugees in Japan. Not
until 1955, following repeated appeals channeled through Church World
Services, did he and Jentzen finally get new Indian identity cards and
U.S. visas. Settling in New Jersey, Norbu began to earn a modest income
teaching Tibetan to a handful of students as part of a noncredited
course at Columbia University.
The other brother, Gyalo Thondup, was residing in Darjeeling. Six years
Norbu's junior, Gyalo was the proverbial prodigal son. The problem was,
he was the figurative son to a number of fathers. He was the only one
of five male siblings not directed toward a monastic life. As a teen,
he had befriended members of the Chinese mission in Lhasa and yearned
to study in China. Although this was not a popular decision among the
more xenophobic members of his family, Gyalo got his wish in 1947 when
he and a brother-in-law arrived at the Kuomintang capital of Nanking
and enrolled in college.
Two years later, Gyalo, then twenty-one, veered further toward China
when he married fellow student Zhu Dan. Not only was his wife ethnic
Chinese, but her father, retired General Chu Shi- kuei, had been a key
Kuomintang officer during the early days of the republic. Because of
both his relationship to General Chu and the fact that he was the Dalai
Lama's brother, Gyalo was feted in Nanking by no less than
Generalissimo Chiang Kai-shek.
The good times were not to last. With the communists closing in on
Nanking during the final months of China's civil war, Gyalo and his
wife fled in mid-1949 to the safer climes of India. Once again because
of his relationship to the Dalai Lama, he was added to the invitation
list for various diplomatic events and even got an audience with Prime
Minister Nehru.
That October, Gyalo briefly ventured to the Tibetan enclave at
Kalimpong before settling for seven months in Calcutta. While there,
his father-in-law, General Chu, attempted to make contact with the
Tibetan government. With the retreat of the Kuomintang to Taiwan, Chu
had astutely shifted loyalty to the People's Republic and was now
tasked by Beijing to arrange a meeting between Tibetan and PRC
officials at a neutral site, possibly Hong Kong. [6]
Conversant in Chinese and linked to both the Dalai Lama and General
Chu, Gyalo was a logical intermediary for the Hong Kong talks. The
British, however, were dragging their feet on providing visas to the
Tibetan delegation. Unable to gain quick entry to the crown colony,
Gyalo made what he intended to be a brief diversion to the Republic of
China (ROC) on Taiwan. But Chiang Kai- shek, no doubt anxious to keep
Gyalo away from General Chu and the PRC, had other plans. Smothering
the royal sibling with largesse, Chiang kept Gyalo in Taipei for the
next sixteen months. Only after a desperate letter to U.S. Secretary
of State Dean Acheson requesting American diplomatic intervention did
the ROC relent and give Gyalo an exit permit.
After arriving in Washington in September 1951, Gyalo continued to
dabble in diplomacy. Within a month of his arrival, he was called to a
meeting at the State Department. Significantly, Gyalo's Chinese wife
was at his side during the encounter. Because of the couple's close
ties to Chiang, department representatives assumed that details of
their talk would quickly be passed to the Kuomintang Nationalists. [7]
Gyalo, in fact, was not a stooge of Taipei, Beijing, or, for that
matter, Washington. Despite State Department efforts to secure him a
scholarship at Stanford University, he hurriedly departed the United
States in February 1952 for the Indian subcontinent. Leaving his wife
behind, he then trekked back to Lhasa after a six- year absence.
By that time, Beijing had a secure foothold in the Tibetan capital.
Upon meeting this wayward member of the royal family, the local PRC
representatives were pleased. As a Chinese speaker married to one of
their own, Gyalo was perceived as a natural ally. Yet again, however,
he would prove a disappointment. After showing some interest in
promoting a bold land reform program championed by the Dalai Lama,
Gyalo once more grew restive. In late spring, he secretly met with the
Indian consul in Lhasa, and after promising to refrain from
politicking, he was given permission to resettle in India. [8]
Although not exactly endearing himself to anyone with his frequent
moves, Gyalo was not burning bridges either. Noting his recent return
to Darjeeling, the U.S. embassy in early August 1952 cautiously
considered establishing contact. Calcutta's Consul General Gary Soulen
saw an opportunity in early September while returning from his Sikkim
trek with Princess Kukula. Pausing in Darjeeling, Soulen stayed long
enough for Gyalo to pass on the latest information from his contacts
within the Tibetan merchant community. [9]
Although he had promised to refrain from exile politics, Gyalo saw no
conflict in courting senior Indian officials. In particular, he sought
a meeting with India's spymaster Bhola Nath Mullik. As head of Indian
intelligence, Mullik presided over an organization with deep colonial
roots. Established in 1887 as the central Special Branch, it had been
organized by the British to keep tabs on the rising tide of Indian
nationalism. Despite several redesignations before arriving at the
title Intelligence Bureau, anticolonialists remained its primary target
for the next sixty years.
Upon independence in 1947, Prime Minister Nehru appointed the bureau's
first Indian director. Rather than suppressing nationalists, the
organization now had to contend with communal violence and early
problems with India's erstwhile Muslim brothers now living in the
bisected nation of Pakistan.
Three years later, Mullik became the bureau's second director. A police
officer since the age of twenty-two, the taciturn Mullik was known for
his boundless energy (he often worked sixteen-hour days), close ties to
Nehru, healthy suspicion of China, and (rare for a senior Indian
official) predisposition against communism. Almost immediately, the
Tibetan frontier became his top concern. This followed Beijing's
invasion of Kham that October, which meant that India's military
planners now had to contend with a hypothetical front besides Pakistan.
Moreover, the tribal regions of northeastern India were far from
integrated, and revolutionaries in those areas could now easily receive
Chinese support. The previous year, in fact, the bureau had held a
conference on risks associated with Chinese infiltration. [10]
Despite Mullik's concerns, Nehru was prone to downplay the potential
Chinese threat. Not only did he think it ludicrous to prepare for a
full-scale Chinese attack, but he saw real benefits in cultivating
Beijing to offset Pakistan's emerging strategy of anticommunist
cooperation with the West. "It was Nehru's idealism against hard-headed
Chinese realism," said one Intelligence Bureau official. "Mullik
injected healthy suspicions."
Astute enough to hedge his bets, Nehru allowed Mullik some leeway in
improving security along the border and collecting intelligence on
Chinese forces in Tibet. To accomplish this, Mullik expanded the number
of Indian frontier posts strung across the Himalayas. In addition, he
sought contact with Tibetans living in the Darjeeling and Kalimpong
enclaves. Not only could these Tibetans be tapped for information, but
a symbolic visit by a senior official like Mullik would lift morale at
a time when their homeland was being subjugated. Such contact,
moreover, could give New Delhi advance warning of any subversive
activity in Tibet being staged from Indian soil. [11]
Of all the Tibetan expatriates, Mullik had his eye on Gyalo Thondup.
Besides having an insider's perspective of the high offices in Lhasa,
Gyalo had already passed word of his desire for a meeting. Prior to his
departure for his first visit to Darjeeling in the spring of 1953,
Mullik asked for -- and quickly received -- permission from the prime
minister to include the Dalai Lama's brother on his itinerary. Their
subsequent exchange of views went well, as did their tete-a-tete during
Mullik's second visit to Darjeeling in 1954. [12]
Apart from such occasional contact with Indian intelligence, Gyalo
spent much of the next two years removed from the tribulations in his
homeland. To earn a living, he ironically began exporting Indian tea
and whiskey to Chinese troops and administrators in Tibet. For leisure,
he and his family were frequent guests at the Gymkhana Club. Part of an
exclusive resort chain that was once a playpen for the subcontinent's
colonial elite, the Gymkhana's Darjeeling branch was situated amid
terraced gardens against the picturesque backdrop of Kanchenjunga. A
regular on the tennis courts, the Dalai Lama 's brother was the local
champion. [13]
In the summer of 1956, Gyalo's respite came to an abrupt end. The
senior abbot and governor from the Tibetan town of Gyantse had recently
made his escape to India and in July wrote a short report about China's
excesses. Gyalo repackaged the letter in English and mailed copies to
the Indian media, several diplomatic missions, and selected world
leaders. One of these arrived in early September at the U.S. embassy in
the Pakistani capital of Karachi, and from there was disseminated to
the American mission in New Delhi and consulate in Calcutta. [14]
Although the letter was less than accurate on several counts, it served
two important purposes. First, it corroborated the reports of China's
brutality provided by the crown prince of Sikkim in June. Second, it
brought Gyalo back to the attention of Washington as a concerned
activist. For the past four years, there had been virtually no contact
between him and American diplomats in India. In particular, he was
completely unknown among CIA officers in Calcutta. [15]
This was set to change, and quickly. Once word reached India in early
November that the Dalai Lama would be attending the Buddha Jayanti,
John Hoskins got an urgent cable from headquarters. Put aside your
efforts against the Chinese community, he was told, and make immediate
contact with Gyalo. A quick check indicated Gyalo's predilection for
tennis, so Hoskins got a racket and headed north to Darjeeling. After
arranging to get paired with Gyalo for a doubles match, the CIA officer
wasted no time in quietly introducing himself.
First impressions are lasting ones, and Hoskins was not exactly wowed
by Gyalo's persona. "There was a lot of submissiveness rather than
dynamism," he noted. At their first meeting, little was discussed apart
from reaching an understanding that, to avoid Indian intelligence
coverage in Darjeeling, future contact would be made in Calcutta using
proper countersurveillance measures.
Later that same month, the Dalai Lama and a fifty-strong delegation
departed Lhasa by car. Switching to horses at the Sikkimese border, the
royal entourage was met on the other side by both Gyalo and Norbu, who
had rushed to India from his teaching assignment in New York. The party
was whisked through Gangtok and down to the closest Indian airfield
near the town of Siliguri, and by 25 November the monarch was being met
by Nehru on the tarmac of New Delhi's Palam Airport. [16]
By coincidence, three days after the Dalai Lama's arrival in New Delhi,
Chinese premier Zhou En- Lai began a twelve-day stop in India as part
of a five-country South Asian tour. Keeping with diplomatic protocol,
the young Tibetan leader was on hand to greet Zhou at the airport. The
two then held a private meeting, at which time the elderly Chinese
statesman lectured the Dalai Lama on the necessity of returning to his
homeland.
Zhou was not alone in his appeal. As eager as Nehru was to offset
Chinese influence in Tibet, he, too, was against the Dalai Lama's
seeking asylum -- especially on Indian soil. This was partly because
India wanted to maintain good relations with China. This was also
because New Delhi did not want to go it alone, and not a single country
to date had recognized Tibetan independence. Fearing that the monarch's
brothers would have an unhealthy effect on any decision, Indian
officials in the capital did all in their power to keep Gyalo and Norbu
segregated from their royal sibling. [17]
The Dalai Lama hardly needed convincing from his brothers, however.
During his first private session with Nehru, he openly hinted about not
going back to Lhasa. He also requested that the issue of Tibetan
independence be taken up by Nehru and President Dwight Eisenhower at
their upcoming summit in Washington in December. Nehru was not entirely
surprised by all this: Gyalo had already sought out Mullik and told the
Indian intelligence chief in no uncertain terms that his brother would
opt for exile. [18]
As India's leadership digested these developments, the Dalai Lama
departed the capital for an exhausting schedule of Buddha Jayanti
festivities. He was still in the midst of this tour when Zhou returned
to New Delhi for an encore visit on 30 December. In the interim, Nehru
had had his Washington meeting with Eisenhower, and the Chinese premier
had scheduled the stop specifically to discuss the outcome of that
summit. As it turned out, however, Tibet was a major topic of
conversation. In particular, Nehru used the opportunity to press Zhou
about tempering China's harsh military and agrarian policies on the
Tibetan plateau.
Tibet was clearly shaping into a litmus test for Sino-Indian relations.
Anxious to broker a deal that would assuage both Lhasa and Beijing,
Nehru summoned the Dalai Lama from his pilgrimage and underscored to
the Tibetan leader that Indian asylum was not in the cards. But if that
was bitter news, Zhou had earlier proposed a sweetener. While noting
that China was ready to use force to stamp out resistance, he claimed
that Mao now recognized the folly of rapid collectivization and pledged
to delay further revolutionary reforms in Tibet.
Zhou and his senior comrades were by now gravely concerned over
permanently losing the Dalai Lama. Leaving nothing to chance, Zhou was
back in New Delhi on 24 January 1957 for his third visit in as many
months.
Despite Beijing's lobbying, Gyalo and Norbu were still insistent that
their brother choose exile. Torn over his future, the
twenty-one-year-old monarch had already departed Calcutta on 22 January
for Kalimpong, which by then was home to a growing number of
disaffected Tibetan elite. Once there, he did what Tibet's leaders had
done countless other times when confronted with a hard decision: he
consulted the state oracle. Two official soothsayers happened to be
traveling with his delegation; using time-honored -- if unscientific --
methods, the pair went into a trance on cue and recited their sagely
advice. Return to Lhasa, they channeled. [19]
As far as the Dalai Lama was concerned, the ruling of his oracles was
incontrovertible, and the decision was made all the easier by the fact
that nobody seemed anxious to give him refuge. Flouting the suggestions
of his brothers, he declared his intention to go home. He crossed into
Sikkim in early March and was compelled to remain in Gangtok until
heavy snows melted from the mountain passes. There, he finalized plans
to set out for Lhasa by month's end.
Prior to November 1956, Tibet had never ranged far from the bottom of
the priority watch list for those in the Far East Division at CIA
headquarters in Washington. The agency had no officer assigned solely
to Tibetan affairs; it, along with Mongolia and other peripheral ethnic
regions under PRC control, barely factored as a minor addendum to the
activities of William Broe's China Branch.
But as soon as the Dalai Lama received permission to attend the Buddha
Jayanti, Broe felt it prudent to show heightened interest. Looking for
a junior officer to spare, he soon settled on John Reagan. Twenty-eight
years old, Reagan had joined the agency upon graduation from Boston
College in 1951. He was soon in Asia, where he spent the next
twenty-four months working on paramilitary projects in Korea. Switching
to China Branch, he served two more years in Japan as part of the CIA's
penetration effort against the PRC. Returning to the United States in
1955, Reagan divided the next twelve months between Chinese language
training and trips to New York City to practice tradecraft against
United Nations delegates.
As the branch's new man on Tibet, Reagan initially did little more than
forward instructions for John Hoskins to make contact with Gyalo. He
was silent on further guidance, primarily because senior U.S. policy
makers had not yet ironed out a coherent framework for dealing with
Lhasa. In earlier meetings between CIA and State Department officials
during the summer of 1956, there had been those who felt that the Dalai
Lama should flee to another Buddhist nation to offer a rallying cry for
anticommunist Buddhists across Asia. Others, primarily inside the
agency, believed that he could play a more important role as a rallying
symbol in Lhasa among his fellow Tibetans. This eas still the CIA's
operating assumption in late 1956: once the Dalai Lama was in India,
the prevailing mood at agency headquarters was that he should
eventually go home. [20]
Gyalo, meantime, was telling Hoskins that his brother had every
intention of seeking asylum. With the Dalai Lama apparently intent on
staying away from his homeland -- and therefore not conforming to the
agency's preferred scenario of rallying his people from Lhasa -- Reagan
was largely idle during most of the Dalai Lama's four-month absence
from Tibet. [21]
Eventually, however, the CIA looked to hedge its bets. Since the second
half of 1956, a band of twenty-seven young Khampa men -- some still in
their late teens -- had been growing restive in the enclave of
Kalimpong. Most came from relatively wealthy trading families and had
been spirited to India to protect them from the instability in their
native province. Full of vigor, the entire group had ventured to New
Delhi shortly before the Dalai Lama's Buddha Jayanti pilgrimage to
conduct street protests. Once the Dalai Lama arrived, they sought a
brief audience to make an impassioned plea for Lhasa's intercession
against the Chinese offensive in Kham.
To their disappointment, the Dalai Lama counseled patience. "His
Holiness only said things would settle down," recalls one of the
Khampas. Undaunted, the twenty-seven young men shadowed the monarch
during several of the Buddha Jayanti commemorative events. By early
January 1957, this took them to Bodh Gaya, the city in eastern India
where the historical Buddha was said to have attained enlightenment.
While there, the Dalai Lama's older brother, Thubten Norbu, approached
the Khampas and asked if he could take their individual photographs as
a souvenir. Although it was an odd request, they complied. [22]
For the next few weeks, nothing happened. Frustrated by the Dalai
Lama's repeated rebuffs, the Khampas sulked back to Kalimpong. Several
Chinese traders were in town, some of whom were rumored to have links
to the Nationalist regime on Taiwan. Desperate, the Khampas sounded
them out on the possibility of covert assistance from Taipei. It was at
that point that Gyalo Thondup arrived and requested a meeting with all
twenty-seven. For most of the young Khampas, it was the first time they
had spoken with the Dalai Lama's lay brother. As they listened
attentively, Gyalo lectured them to steer clear of the Kuomintang. "The
United Sates," he told them cryptically, "is a better choice." [23]
Less than a week later, the Dalai Lama arrived in Kalimpong, the
oracles had their channeling session, and things changed dramatically.
With the monarch's return journey now imminent, John Reagan in
Washington scrambled to script a program of action. At its core, the
plan called for a unilateral capability to determine how much armed
resistance activity really existed in Tibet; further commitments could
then be weighed accordingly.
The CIA had good reason to act with prudence. It already had a long and
growing list of embarrassing failures while working with resistance
groups behind communist lines. Perhaps none had been more painful than
its experience against the PRC. There the agency's efforts had taken
two tracks. The first was a collaborative effort with the Kuomintang
government on Taiwan. Clinging to its dream of reconquering the
mainland, the ROC in 1950 claimed to control a million guerrillas
inside the People's Republic. Although a February 1951 Pentagon study
placed the figure at no more than 600,000 -- only half of which were
thought to be nominally loyal to the ROC -- Washington saw fit to
support these insurgents as a means of appeasing a key Asian ally while
at the same time possibly diverting Beijing's attention from the
conflict on the Korean peninsula. [24]
To funnel covert American assistance to the ROC, the CIA established a
shell company in Pittsburgh known as Western Enterprises (WE). In
September 1951, WE's newly appointed chief, Raymond Peers, arrived on
Taiwan with a planeload of advisers. A U.S. Army colonel who had earned
accolades during World War II as chief of the famed OSS Detachment 101
in Burma, Peers quickly initiated a number of paramilitary efforts. A
large portion of his resources was directed toward airborne operations,
including retraining the ROC's 1,50O-man parachute regiment. Other WE
advisers, meanwhile, were tasked with putting ROC action and
intelligence teams through an airborne course. [25]
To deploy these operatives, WE turned to the agency's Far East air
proprietary, Civil Air Transport (CAT). By the spring of 1952, CAT
planes were dropping teams and singletons on the mainland, as well as
supplies to resistance groups that the ROC claimed were already active
on the ground. Some of the penetrations ranged as far as Tibet's Amdo
region, where the ROC alleged it had contact with Muslim insurgents.
[26]
Concurrently, the agency in April 1951 initiated a unilateral
third-force effort using anticommunist Chinese unaffiliated with the
ROC. Allocated enough arms and ammunition for 200,000 guerrillas, the
CIA recruited many of these third-force operatives from Hong Kong,
trained them in Japan and Saipan, and inserted them in CAT planes via
air bases in South Korea. [27]
By the spring of 1953, both the ROC program and third-force effort were
in their second years. Although the Pentagon's top brass (groping for
ways to pressure Beijing during Korean cease-fire negotiations) were
wistfully talking in terms of "sparking a coordinated anti-communist
resistance movement throughout China," those running the CIA's
infiltration program could hardly have been so optimistic. "None of the
Taiwan agents we dropped were successful," said one WE adviser. The
third-force tally was just as bad: all its operatives were either
killed or taken prisoner, and CAT lost one plane during an attempted
exfiltration that resulted in the capture of two CIA officers. [28]
That summer, an armistice sent the Korean conflict into remission. This
provided the CIA with convenient cover to reassess its third-force
track. Although it elected to maintain a China Base at Yokosuka, Japan,
this unit was to handle primarily agent penetrations and low-level
destabilization efforts; support for broader unilateral resistance got
the ax.
Cooperative ventures with the ROC were not so easily nixed. Although
Taipei had tempered its claims somewhat, it still pegged loyal mainland
guerrilla strength at 650,000 insurgents. By contrast, a November 1953
estimate by the U.S. National Security Council (NSC) put the figure
closer to 50,000. Despite this huge discrepancy, the NSC still
advocated continued covert assistance to the ROC in order to develop
anticommunist guerrillas for resistance and intelligence. Even
temporary guerrilla successes, the council reasoned, might set off
waves of defections and stiffen passive resistance. [29]
Chiang Kai-shek could not have agreed more. Eager to vastly increase
the scope of guerrilla support, the generalissimo in 1954 asked
Washington for some 30,000 parachutes. Turned down the first time, he
made further high-priority appeals over the next two years. These
parachutes were needed for an ambitious plan to drop 100-man units near
major PRC population centers. Hoping to set off a chain of uprisings,
Chiang optimistically talked in terms of uprooting Chinese communism in
as little as two years. [30]
Hearing these plans, Washington patiently counseled against the
proposed airborne blitz. On a more modest level, however, the CIA's
assistance program continued unabated. In this, success was more
elusive than ever. Despite inserting an average of two Nationalist
agents a month through the mid-1950s, the ROC operatives were still
being killed or captured in short order. [31]
Reasons for the lack of success against the People's Republic were
legion. First, the infiltration program took at face value some of
Taipei's claims about contact with a vast network of anticommunists on
the mainland. In reality, such claims were wildly exaggerated, and
precious little was known about events in the PRC countryside; even top
PRC leaders were prone to mysteriously disappear from public view for
months on end. [32] Second, in the unlikely event such resistance
existed, the logistical challenge of maintaining support to these
guerrilla pockets outstripped what could realistically be staged by
Taiwan and the CIA. Third, the CIA's recent experience against the
Soviet Union and its satellites had shown the folly of abetting
insurgents in a tightly controlled police state; Beijing's omnipresent
militia and party network were no less daunting. [33] Finally, even
though the PRC's ruthless experimentation in social engineering had no
doubt bred detractors by the score, the corruption of the Kuomintang
regime hardly endeared Taipei to any disenchanted masses on the
mainland.
Although these reasons might have made covert operations against the
PRC a study in frustration, Tibet appeared to be different. Unlike many
of Taipei's wishful claims about other areas of the mainland, Tibet had
a resistance movement corroborated by multiple, albeit dated, sources.
What the CIA needed was timely data that could give a current and
accurate picture of this resistance. And given the historical animosity
between Tibetans and lowland Chinese, the agency needed to gather this
information without resort to ROC assistance.
In February 1957, John Hoskins was ordered by Washington to immediately
identify eight Tibetan candidates for external training as a pilot team
that would infiltrate their homeland and assess the state of
resistance. Gyalo, who had been in Kalimpong making an eleventh-hour
bid to convince his brother to seek asylum, was given responsibility
for screening candidates among the Tibetan refugees already in India.
Although the twenty-seven Khampas did not know it, Gyalo intended to
make the selection from their ranks. Using the photographs taken by
Norbu at Bodh Gaya, he sought guidance from two senior Khampas in town,
both of whom hailed from the extended family of Gompo Tashi
Andrugtsang, a prominent trader of Tibetan wool, deer horns, and musk.
With their assistance, Gyalo soon settled on his first pick. Wangdu
Gyato-tsang, age twenty-seven, had been born to an affluent Khampa
family from the town of Lithang. He was well connected: Gompo Tashi was
his uncle, as was one of the senior Khampas helping Gyalo with the
selection. Wangdu also had the right disposition for the task at hand.
Despite being schooled at the Lithang monastery from the age of ten, he
did not exactly conform to monastic life. "He was hot tempered from
childhood," recalls younger brother Kalsang.
Wangdu Gyatotsang (right), leader of the Saipan-trained team dropped in
Kham, with his two brothers. (Courtesy Kalsang Gyatotsang)
A sampling of this temper came at age seventeen during a trip to the
Tibetan town of Menling. Out of deference to the local chieftain, it
was decreed that hats, firearms, and horse bells would be removed in
front of the chief's residence. It was raining, however, so Wangdu
continued wearing his cap. Spying this violation, the chieftain's
bodyguard strode up and knocked the Khampa on the head. Without
flinching, the young monk drew his pistol and shot the guard dead. [34]
On account of his family connections, Wangdu was spared punishment. In
1956, his family ties again came into play following the PLA's
devastating attack on the Lithang monastery. On orders from uncle Gompo
Tashi, Wangdu and his younger brother were bundled off to the safer
environs of Kalimpong.
When approached by Gyalo, Wangdu immediately volunteered for the
mission. Within days, five other Khampas were singled out (Washington
now wanted a total of six trainees, not eight), but only Wangdu was
given any hint of the impending assignment. Four were from Lithang; of
these, three were Wangdu's close acquaintances, and one was his family
servant. The fifth was a friend from the nearby town of Bathang (also
spelled Batang). All were still on hand to attend the Dalai Lama's
final open-air blessing in a Kalimpong soccer field shortly before the
monarch headed back toward Tibet.
With the Dalai Lama en route to Lhasa, attention shifted in early March
to smuggling the six Khampas out of India for training. This was easier
said than done. Because of Nehru's determination to maintain cordial
Sino-Indian ties, New Delhi's complicity remained out of the question.
Moreover, the Khampas were refugees without proper identification,
discounting overt travel via commercial airliner or boat. Brainstorming
covert alternatives, several came to mind. "There was some talk in the
Calcutta consulate about floating them off the Indian coast," said
Gyalo, "then having them picked up by submarine." Consideration was
also given to issuing fake Nepalese passports. [35]
A better option harkened back to a suggestion made by the crown prince
of Sikkim regarding exfiltration via East Pakistan. The idea held
merit: since 1954, Washington and Karachi (which governed both the East
and West Pakistani territories on either side of lndia) had forged
cordial military and diplomatic ties. A military sales pact had been
signed by the United States and Pakistan that May, and both had agreed
to join the Southeast Asia Treaty Organization in September; the
following year, Pakistan became a member of the U.S.-supported Baghdad
Pact. This was all part of a chain of alliances intended by the United
States to contain the spread of communism. By 1956, Pakistan had become
America's "most allied ally in Asia." [36]
In reality, Karachi had signed the treaties for reasons other than
those intended by Washington. Although it was true that Pakistan had
some emerging concerns about communism (China claimed some Pakistani
territory on its maps, for example, and even raided border villages in
1954 to discourage grazing on its land), its main motivation was to
open the spigot of American military assistance, which Karachi
desperately wanted to bolster its armed forces against threats from New
Delhi.
Different motivations aside, U.S.-Pakistan relations were genuinely
warm, and the U.S. embassy enjoyed good access to the top echelons of
government. Even before the CIA was sure that the Khampa training was
going to proceed, the agency's station chief in Karachi, L. Eugene
Milligan, had broached the exfiltration scheme with senior Pakistani
officials. Taking his case directly to President Iskandar Mizra,
Milligan asked if -- hypothetically speaking -- Tibetans could be
allowed to cross the northern border of East Pakistan, then be
discreetly transported to the abandoned Kurmitola airstrip north of
Dacca. [37]
Milligan could make his pitch knowing that the CIA had particularly
good relations in East Pakistan. Since mid-1954, the agency had been
allowed to maintain a single case officer at the Dacca consulate. That
officer, twenty-eight-year-old Walter Cox, had nurtured close links
with most of East Pakistan's civilian and military authorities, helped
in part when he coordinated a generous airlift of U.S. humanitarian
assistance following severe floods in August 1954. [38]
Based on this spirit of cooperation, Mizra gave Milligan his consent.
When Washington's final approval for the exfiltration came in February
1957, the station chief quickly assigned a Karachi- based case officer,
Edward McAllister, to coordinate the operation from Dacca. Forty-three
years old, McAllister was an experienced Asia hand. Schooled in China
through his university years, he had gone back to the United States in
1932 and worked for nearly a decade as a fire insurance underwriter and
public health inspector. Lured by the challenges of the war in Europe,
he joined the British army in 1941, then transferred in 1943 to the
U.S. Army.
At war's end, McAllister's linguistic skills made him a natural for
what became an extended army assignment in postwar China. By 1949, he
was serving as an assistant military attache during the final months of
the civil war. Leaving the armed forces in 1954 with the rank of major,
McAllister signed on with the CIA. He entered the Far East Division and
-- like Hoskins in Calcutta -- was posted to Karachi as the division's
local representative assigned to penetrate the Chinese community.
Joining McAllister for the assignment in Dacca was John Reagan, who had
flown in from Washington for the duration of the exfiltration. One
potential hitch remained: although McAllister was fluent in Chinese
(and Reagan knew the basics), neither officer shared a common language
with the Khampas. They were desperate for an interpreter, but there
were few qualified candidates. Gyalo himself was ineligible because he
needed to run the operation from the Indian side and could not afford
the diplomatic heat if he got caught on the border. Norbu could not
risk the embarrassment of exposure either. While little other choice, a
call was placed to Norbu's long-time servant Jentzen Thondup, who was
patiently awaiting his master's return at their apartment in New
Jersey.
"I got on the phone," remembers Jentzen, "with somebody who said he was
from the CIA." A quiet, elderly man showed up at the house later that
day, and the pair were soon winging their way to the subcontinent. [39]
It was 2:00 in the afternoon when Wangdu came to the house of
twenty-seven- year-old Athar and told him they were departing that
night for training in a foreign country. Like Wangdu, Athar (many
Khampas go by only one name) was an alumnus of the Lithang monastery
and had been one of the twenty-seven who lobbied the Dalai Lama during
the Buddha Jayanti. A total of six Khampas, he was told, would be
making the trip.
Athar's first reaction was shock. To maintain secrecy, none of the
trainees (other than Wangdu) had been aware that preparations had
reached such an advanced stage. His next reaction was disappointment.
"Six was too few," he later recalled. "I thought we needed at least ten
of us." [40]
With little time for debate, the six ate and changed into Indian
clothes. All identification was left behind. At 9:00 that evening, they
gathered on a dark road outside town. Like clockwork, Gyalo arrived at
the wheel of a jeep and loaded them into the rear. In the passenger's
seat was Gyalo's cook, Gelung, who was designated to escort the group
across the Pakistani border. Gelung was a good choice on two counts:
not only could he speak Hindi, which might come in handy if they
encountered Indian authorities, but he was the only one among them who
knew how to read a compass.
In silence, they drove south to the town of Siliguri, then another
twenty kilometers to the East Pakistan frontier. As the road narrowed
near the entrance to a tea plantation, the jeep ground to a halt and
the passengers off-loaded. As Gyalo reversed direction and returned
north, Gelung led the Khampas down a foot trail through the plantation.
Walking until nearly dawn, they approached a large river. Studying his
compass, Gelung calculated that the opposite side was Pakistani
territory. In contrast to the tension along the Indo-Pakistani border
in the west -- where the two nations had clashed over the contested
region of Kashmir -- much of the 3,225-kilometer East Pakistan frontier
was undefended.
The group found a suitable fording point and waded to the far shore.
Moving forty-five meters inland, they came across a small road. While
they waited without speaking, three soldiers materialized out of the
dawn mist. Because they appeared to be armed and dressed like Indian
troops, the Khampas began to panic, but Gelung rose and walked forward.
Removing a flashlight from his pack, he flicked it on for a moment.
Seconds later, the troops returned the signal. Gelung waved at the
others to follow, and the Khampas approached the patrol and offered
greetings. To their surprise, one of the soldiers was Norbu's servant
Jentzen; the rest were Pakistanis. His work done, Gelung bid them
farewell and retraced his steps across the river and back to India,
while Jentzen, the Pakistanis, and the six Khampas walked a short
distance to a covered jeep.
After riding for an hour, the group came upon an isolated cottage
framed by thickets. Inside, CIA officer McAllister was waiting with hot
tea and biscuits. As Jentzen attempted to translate pleasantries in
halting English, they finished their refreshments and were directed to
a bigger jeep. They rode for the next five hours, not stopping until
they reached a railway station. Surrounded by supposed Pakistani
military guards -- giving them the outward appearance of a prison gang
-- the Tibetans were hustled aboard a train and seated alone in the
first-class compartment.
Heading south, they took the train to the outskirts of Dacca There they
were off-loaded to a truck and driven to a safe house near Kurmitola.
"The heat was really affecting us," remembers Athar, "so we kept the
cold water running in the shower and took turns going underneath."
Sweltering, they spent the next two days hidden away from prying eyes.
[41]
For covert airlift needs in Asia, the CIA relied almost exclusively on
its proprietary, Civil Air Transport. A handful of assignments,
however, went to a special unit within the U.S. Air Force (USAF). This
unit dated back to 1951, when the USAF saw the need to pluck aircrews
out of the Soviet countryside after dropping nuclear ordnance and
running out of fuel on the way home. Given the innocuous title of Air
Resupply and Communications (ARC) wings, these recovery units were
outfitted with an exotic mix of converted B-29 bombers, seaplanes,
helicopters, and transports. For global coverage, three ARC wings were
formed: one in the United States as reserve, one in Libya for European
assignments, and one at Clark Air Base in the Philippines for Asian
missions. [42]
Almost immediately, the activities of the ARC wings grew beyond their
pilot recovery role. Their training was expanded to include various
aerial aspects of unconventional warfare, and they became fluent in
leaflet drops, agent insertions, and the resupply of guerrillas behind
communist lines. The Clark-based ARC wing -- which in 1954 shifted to
Kadena Air Base on the U.S.-controlled island of Okinawa -- was
especially active, being used on psychological warfare flights over the
Korean peninsula, the PRC, and French Indochina.
In September 1956, all ARC wings were formally disbanded. But electing
to keep the Kadena unit intact, the USAF merely changed its name to the
equally ambiguous 322nd Troop Carrier Squadron, Medium (Special). In
line with the last word of this extended title, the 322nd Squadron
continued to focus on unconventional contingencies; its B-29s, in
particular, were kept busy performing simulated low-level parachute
drops. [43]
During that time frame, CIA air operations across Asia were being run
out of Tokyo. To facilitate liaison between Tokyo and the special
squadron on Okinawa, two agency officers were posted to Kadena.
Although the entire 322nd Squadron was qualified to fly covert
operations, the most sensitive missions went to a small subset of
airmen assigned to its Detachment 1. These crews flew a pair of C-54s
and a lone C-118, all provided courtesy of the CIA.
Though little different from a civilian DC-6 transport on the outside,
the 322nd Squadron's C-118 was an engineering marvel. "It was pieced
together from so many different serial-numbered parts," recalls
squadron pilot Herbert Dagg, "that it would have been untraceable if it
went down." The plane also had removable tail numbers, which were
sometimes changed multiple times during CIA- sponsored flights. To add
to the intentional confusion, crews were required to file false flight
plans and fly circuitous routes to mask points of origin and
destination. [44]
Outside eyes were not the only ones the CIA was out to fool. The
detachment's own aircrews were kept in the dark as to the identity of
their agency passengers. All the windows were blackened, and curtains
were always drawn between the cockpit and the cabin. Crews were
required to use only the front door; passengers used only the rear. "I
never even knew if the personnel we flew were Asians," said squadron
member Justin Shires. [45]
Such was the case when the detachment got orders to fly the C-118 to
Kurmitola. With perfect timing, a covered truck approached from the
rear and stopped at the plane's back door. Six small figures dashed up
the stairs, followed by Jentzen and John Reagan. Throttling the engines
back up, the crew taxied down the runway and disappeared into the
eastern skies."
Geir
espionnage and intrigue may want to be better informed about what went
on behind the scenes and not get this same old dishwater served to them
that they have been all these years about the God-king this and the
Buddha that while actually it's all very human and down to earth with
perfectly human interests and concerns involved and none of this
holier-than -thou bul....it ! Tibetans are exactly like and no holier
than Americans and they may want tto know that by now.
RFA being the Voice of America and thus monitored by all worldwide, be
they the Russians, Chinese... and all the major services of worldwide
monitoring by all countries' foreign services and secret agents'
services, that is absoutely the right media to carrry this crossposting
of this thread and it's very important topics. The end of teh coverup
and lying about the Tiebtans that set in with the Nobel and all the
hogwash that was done after that to make a ficticious bull...t-image
for the main stream ignorant public; well that time is now over and now
we can actually get some facts in crosswise instead of the hogwash and
frontpage lying and conniving that's been done for the last twenty
years about Tibet. Time now to be real and actually catch up on our
home work of twenty years that's been set aside while the propaganda
machine in Dharamsala has been churning out it's hogwash about the
Dalai lama being the King of Tibet which is false as all these thread's
pages show. Kham had thirty kings itself and the Panchen and Sakya
Trizin were autonomous leaders paying practially no taxes to Lhassa or
else once in a blue moon. The Dalai Army had no sway outside Lhasse
proper; and this is known to one and all in universities. Only idiotic
mainstream Americans reading the Dharamsala propaganda know nothing
about that. Poor ignorant madmen who believe everything they're told.
They also believe everything they're told about at Disneyworld and what
is described to them there. Stupid moronic cretins is all those poor
souls are. They probably also believe Jesus was born from a Virgin eh !
Geir
the "down and dirty" in the Tibetan exile and what really happened, not
the fake fairy-tale version servedc out to the press and to the idiotic
media of the world that doesn't take time to check the sources.
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- SAIPAN
After a brief refueling stop in Bangkok, the Khampas were again aloft
and heading over the South China Sea. Curving north, they arrived at
Kadena and were taken to the small CIA compound on the air base for a
three-day physical examination. Doctors found them to have
well-developed chests and musculature -- no surprise, given their
active lifestyles at high altitude. Notable was their low, even pulse
rates. A brief aptitude test showed that although none spoke any
English, they exhibited good native intelligence. "Being merchants,"
noted one CIA case officer, "most had a certain sophistication stemming
from their contact across the region." [1]
While still on Okinawa, the group was met by the Dalai Lama's brother
Norbu, who joined them on the C-118 as they took to the air and veered
Southeast. Four hours later, they descended toward a teardrop-shaped
island in the middle of the western Pacific. Though the Tibetans were
never told the location -- some would later speculate it was Guam --
they had actually arrived at the U.S. trust territory of Saipan. [2]
Situated on the southern end of the Northern Mariana Islands chain,
Saipan was of volcanic origin and had an equally violent history of
human habitation. Its original population -- seafarers from the
Indonesian archipelago -- was virtually wiped out by Spanish
colonialists. Later sold to Germany and subsequently administered by
Japan as part of a League of Nations mandate, the island -- though no
larger than the city of San Francisco -- had taken on extraordinary
strategic significance by the time of World War II. This was because
Allied strategy in the Pacific hinged on the premise that the Japanese
would not surrender until their homeland was invaded. According to
Allied estimates, such an invasion would cost an estimated 1 million
American lives and needed the support of a concerted air campaign. For
this, Washington required a staging base where its bombers could launch
and return safely; the Marianas chain, the U.S. top brass calculated,
fell within the necessary range.
Before the Allies could move in, however, there remained the thorny
problem of removing nearly 32,000 Japanese defenders firmly entrenched
on the island. In June 1944, one week after the landings at Normandy,
535 U.S. naval vessels closed on Saipan. In what was to become one of
the most hotly contested battles in the Pacific, they blasted the
island from afar before putting ashore 71,000 troops.
The Japanese were not intimidated. Having already zeroed their heavy
weapons on likely beachheads, they ravaged the landing columns. Some
3,100 U.S. servicemen died; another 13,100 were wounded or missing.
Despite such heavy Allied casualties, the Japanese had it worse.
Overwhelmed by the size of the invasion force, some 29,500 defenders
perished in the month-long battle to control the island. Of these,
hundreds jumped to their deaths off the northern cliffs rather than
face the shame of capture.
Once in Allied hands, the Marianas were quickly transformed into their
intended role as a staging base for air strikes against Japan. It was
from there, in fact, that a B-29 began its run to drop the atomic bomb
on Hiroshima. Nine days later, Japan surrendered.
Following World War II, the United States remained on hand to
administer the Northern Mariana Islands. In July 1947, this role was
codified under a trustee-ship agreement with the new United Nations,
which specifically gave the U.S. Navy responsibility for the chain. In
practice, this trusteeship translated into an exceedingly small U.S.
presence. With Japan's wartime population either dead or repatriated,
the chain boasted few settlements of any note; only Saipan hosted
anything approaching the size of a town. Even its airfields -- which
had once been so critical during the War -- now fell largely dormant
after being vastly overshadowed by the sprawling U.S. military bases in
neighboring Guam and the Philippines.
For the CIA, however, the tranquility of the Marianas held appeal.
Looking for a discreet locale to build a Far East camp to instruct
agents and commandos from friendly nations, the agency in 1950
established the Saipan Training Station. Officially known by the cover
title Naval Technical Training Unit, Saipan station took up much of the
island's northern peninsula and featured numerous segregated compounds
where groups of Asian trainees from various nations could spend several
months in isolation. "We did not even let two classes from the same
country know one another," underscored one case officer. [3]
The course work offered at Saipan station ran the gamut of
unconventional warfare and espionage tradecraft. By 1956, Chinese
Nationalists, Koreans, Lao, and Vietnamese had passed through its gates
for commando instruction; a Thai class had been coached as frogmen; and
other Vietnamese had been preened to form their own version of the CIA.
In some cases, classes consisted of just one or two key individuals who
were going to blend into their central government structure. "There
were no standard lessons," said one CIA officer. "Each cycle was custom
tailored." [4]
None of the prospective trainees presented more of a challenge than the
newly arrived Tibetans. The six recruits were to act as the CIA's eyes
and ears back inside Tibet, John Reagan explained to the resident
instructor cadre. This necessitated that they absorb not only
communications and reporting skills but also a general knowledge of
guerrilla warfare techniques, as well as a limited understanding of
tradecraft. Although such a broad curriculum would normally require a
full year, Saipan station was told to ready the subjects in a quarter
of that time. [5]
Under such strict time constraints, three different CIA training teams
were assembled to begin instruction. The first team offered the Khampas
an extremely rudimentary course on classic espionage tactics. The
second started coaching them in Morse communications and use of the RS-
shortwave radio and its hand-cranked generator. The final team
initiated a primer on guerrilla warfare and paramilitary operations.
Very quickly, problems became apparent. Having had almost no schooling,
the Khampas had trouble with such essential concepts as the
twenty-four-hour clock. They also had difficulty quantifying distances
and numbers. Precise reporting would be vital once they were back in
the field, emphasized one agency officer, "but too often they tended to
use vague descriptions such as 'many' or 'some."' [6]
To overcome some of these challenges, the CIA instructors had to rely
on visual demonstrations. "We had to physically show them," said one
trainer, "not simply use a classroom." To clarify the construction of
ground signals for an aerial resupply, for example, scaffolding was
assembled atop the island's northern cliffs. Below, firepots were
arranged on the beach so the Tibetans could visualize how they would
appear from the air. [7]
Communications training proved even more difficult. The main stumbling
block: Khampas traditionally received little formal language
instruction. The six students, who were barely able to read or write,
could hardly be expected to transmit coherent radio messages. Not
realizing the seriousness of this critical deficiency until nearly
halfway through the training cycle, the CIA instructors scrambled to
find someone who could teach basic Tibetan grammar. Norbu, who was
acting as primary interpreter for the other course work, could not be
spared for double duty. Neither could Jentzen, Who in any event was
weak in language skills.
Enter Geshe Wangyal.
As a result of the unique symbiosis between Tibetan lamas and Mongol
khans during centuries past, Tibetan Buddhism had converts spread
across the Mongolian steppes of Central Asia. Some of these Mongolians,
being a nomadic people, had wandered far with their adopted religion.
By the early seventeenth century, one such band had settled in the
Kalmykia region of Russia just north of the Caspian Sea.
Geshe Wangyal, the CIA's Mongolian translator. (Courtesy Joshua
Culter)
As an ethnic and religious anomaly, the Mongolians were initially
ignored by their host country. By the early twentieth century, however,
their mastery of Tibetan Buddhism eventually brought them to the
attention of the Russian czars. Looking to outwit the British in the
great game of colonial competition, the Russians sought to use a
particularly gifted Mongolian monk named Agvan Dorzhiev to court favor
with Lhasa.
The task proved deceptively easy. A true scholar of Tibetan Buddhism,
Dorzhiev (who hailed from a displaced Mongolian clan in Siberia) not
only won an introduction to the thirteenth Dalai Lama but also was
retained as a palace tutor and confidant for ten years. Through this
inside connection, the relationship between Tibet and Russia had the
makings of a close alliance. In 1904, however, chances for this were
dashed when the Dalai Lama briefly fled to Mongolia following a British
incursion from India. Dorzhiev was dispatched to plead for emergency
Russian support, but he returned with nothing more than moral
encouragement. Having just been humiliated in the Russo-Japanese War,
the czar had little time to spare for Tibet.
The Russians never had a chance to make amends. In 1917, the czar was
overthrown by Bolshevik communists, and Russia became the Soviet Union.
By that time, Dorzhiev had settled among his ethnic relatives in
Kalmykia and opened a pair of monastic schools. Tibet never strayed far
from his mind, however, and shortly after the Bolshevik revolution he
personally selected several of his best pupils to continue their
studies in Lhasa. Among them was a prodigy named Wangyal. [8]
Born in 1901, Wangyal had started monastic life at age six. He was
known for his ability to memorize several pages of Buddhist text in a
single sitting, and he regularly excelled in class. Switching briefly
to medical school, he again took top honors before reverting back to
religious course work following the untimely death of his professor.
After being selected to study in Lhasa, Wangyal learned that he would
be part of a larger expedition with ulterior motives. As the Bolsheviks
still harbored the czarist desire to court Tibet, one of his
co-travelers was a communist functionary who intended to offer Lhasa
weapons as a sign of good faith. Having Moscow's obvious blessing did
not ease the physical challenges of journeying to the Tibetan plateau.
What was expected to take four months instead took fourteen and claimed
the life of one apprentice in a blinding snowstorm.
Once in Lhasa, Wangyal enrolled at the prestigious Drepung Monastic
University. Located on a high ridge eight kilometers west of the
capital, Drepung had once been the largest monastery in the world (its
population in the seventeenth century was a staggering 10,000 monks),
Setting his sights high, the newly arrived Mongolian intended to become
geshe (doctor of divinity) -- a title that can take up to thirty-five
years of study to achieve. [9]
Rigorous study was not Wangyal's only challenge. He ran short of
finances and was forced to leave Lhasa in 1932 to seek funds at home.
Planning to return by way of China, he got as far as Beijing before
hearing stories of Soviet repression back in Kalmykia. This led him to
look for an alternative source of financing in Beijing, and eventually
he was able to earn a good living translating Tibetan texts.
By 1935, Wangyal had amassed enough cash and headed back toward Tibet
via India. Making his way to Calcutta, he had a chance meeting with Sir
Charles Bell, a senior British colonial official and noted Tibetan
scholar who, ironically, had earlier displaced Agvan Dorzhiev as the
closest foreign confidant of the thirteenth Dalai Lama. Given his
linguistic skills -- Chinese, Mongolian, Tibetan, and a smattering of
English -- Wangyal was hired as Bell's translator during an extended
tour of China and Manchuria.
Following these exhaustive travels -- including a four-month visit to
England -- Wangyal finally made it to Lhasa. There he earned his geshe
degree after just nine years of study. Though this was an impressive
scholastic accomplishment, he found himself under a cloud of suspicion.
His foreign heritage, coupled with extended time spent in China and
service to the British, did not sit well among the xenophobes of the
Tibetan court.
Not fully welcome in the homeland of his religion, Geshe Wangyal
limited his time in Lhasa to the summer months. Winters were spent in
Kalimpong, where he displayed pronounced entrepreneurial skills as a
trader. Although this was financially rewarding, he yearned to open his
own religious school. Stonewalled in Tibet, he instead targeted Beijing
-- only to cancel those plans when the communists came to power in
1949. Figuring that he would give Tibet a second chance, he again
ventured to Lhasa but was forced to flee upon hearing that the PLA was
approaching the Tibetan capital in late 1951. [10]
Back in Kalimpong, Geshe Wangyal grew restless. China, Tibet, Mongolia,
and his native Kalmykia were all under communist occupation, but
wasting away the months in tiny Kalimpong lacked both mental and
spiritual stimulation.
There was one attractive alternative, however. In late 1951, the United
States accepted 800 Kalmyk Mongolians who had been languishing in
refugee camps since the end of World War II. These refugees were drawn
from two waves that had fled the Soviet Union during the preceding
decades. The first had departed Kalmykia shortly after the Bolshevik
revolution; the second left in late 1943 after Joseph Stalin adopted a
ruthless line against minorities and started deporting the Mongolians
to Siberia aboard cattle cars. Once in the United States, the older
wave of emigres settled around Philadelphia. The newer ones -- no more
than seventy families -- established a small but vibrant community near
Freewood Acres, New Jersey. [11]
Hearing of this, Geshe Wangyal contemplated a move to the United
States. His first several visa applications were rejected, and it was
not until mid-1954, following introductions by a British acquaintance,
that the U.S. vice consul in Calcutta processed his papers with a
favorable recommendation. [12]
Arriving on American soil in February 1955, Geshe Wangyal found that
word of his religious accomplishments in Tibet had already made him
famous among his fellow Kalmyk Mongolians. With an instant audience, he
opened a modest temple in a converted New Jersey garage.
Geshe Wangal's fame was not limited to his ethnic home crowd. As the
first (and to that time, only) qualified scholar of Tibetan Buddhism in
the United States, he soon came in contact with Norbu, who at the time
was also living in New Jersey and teaching Tibetan at Columbia
University. Out of mutual respect between geshe and incarnation, Norbu
was given an honorary chair at the New Jersey temple.
The two cooperated in another way as well. Following Norbu's lead,
Geshe Wangyal began teaching languages -- first Mongolian, then Tibetan
-- at Columbia University in 1956. Having dissected Tibetan grammar
during years of poring over Buddhist texts, he had a particularly deep
appreciation for its written form. His extended time as Bell's
interpreter had left him with reasonably good English skills. The U.S.
government, for one, found his linguistic talents more than adequate:
among his first Tibetan students at Columbia were two from the U.S.
Army. [13]
Given this background, Geshe Wangyal was the perfect choice to instruct
the Khampas about their own language. Having already been indirectly
exposed to the U.S. government while teaching the army students -- and
after being informed that Norbu was already involved -- the monk
offered his cooperation and was soon en route to Saipan.
Beyond the serious language hurdle, the CIA staff on Saipan harbored a
more fundamental concern about their Tibetan subjects. The Khampas were
Buddhists, and nearly all of them had spent some time as monks. Their
instructors wondered whether they would hesitate to kill a fellow human
being. For Eli Popovich, chief of the seven paramilitary instructors,
this was driven home during an incident early in training. A veteran of
OSS operations in Burma and the Balkans, Popovich had been addressing
his class when one of the Khampas came forward and pushed him. "I had
been standing on an anthill," recalls Popovich, "and he didn't want me
interfering with another living entity." [14]
It would take another incident -- also involving ants -- to put the
Tibetan attitude toward life and death into better perspective. One
morning, case officer Harry Mustakos heard a commotion coming from the
latrine, where trainee Tashi (now called "Dick"; each Khampa had an
American name on Saipan) was attending to cleaning duties. Beckoned by
Norbu, Mustakos rushed in to find both Tibetans hunched over a column
of ants crossing from a crack in the wall toward the urinal. "What can
we do about these creatures?" Norbu pleaded.
With class set to start in minutes, Mustakos gave them a quick answer.
"You can carefully sweep them up and drop them outside, " he said, "or
you can continue swabbing the deck as though they weren't there."
The CIA officer left the room to let the two Tibetans discuss a
solution. Dick's voice could soon be heard reciting a Buddhist mantra
as he rhythmically swung the mop across the trespassing column.
"Pragmatism prevailed," concluded Mustakos. [15]
Indeed, the CIA was fast coming to realize that the Khampas had few
reservations about taking the life of a Chinese invader. "Their ideas
on what weapons should be dropped were starting to get extravagant,"
remembers Mustakos. "Machine guns for each of their friends, they said,
plus artillery batteries would be nice." [16]
Of the six Khampas, Wangdu -- now known as "Walt" -- led the cry for
more sophisticated weaponry. Partly, this reflected Walt's hot temper.
Partly, too, it was a face-saving gesture to compensate for his low
scores in Morse training. "He was near the bottom of the class," said
fellow trainee Athar, who now went by the name "Tom." "He began
complaining that he wanted to train with bigger guns, not waste time on
radios." [17]
For the CIA, this posed a dilemma. Walt's demands for heavier firepower
conflicted with its need for skilled agents who would observe and
report -- not rush to the offensive. Gingerly, the agency trainers
attempted to downplay Tibetan expectations. Said Tom, "They explained
that it would be too hard to let us carry artillery pieces into Tibet."
[18]
The Khampas were not the only ones who required massaging. The two
interpreters -- Norbu and Jentzen -- offered their own set of
challenges. Like many Asian societies, Tibet was composed of clearly
defined strata, with the religious elite and aristocracy at the top and
the warrior and merchant classes well below. On Saipan, this translated
into one set of quarters for the interpreters (and, later, Geshe
Wangyal) and a different barracks for the students. For the proud
Khampas, this arrangement was palatable in the case of Norbu, whose
religious standing and family ties demanded reverence. Jentzen, by
contrast, was viewed merely as Norbu's servant, who was elite only by
association. "His English was not too good," sniffed Tom. [19]
For his part, Norbu did not much care for the cloistered life on
Saipan. Limited to a single classroom building and pair of sleeping
quarters, the Tibetans were rarely allowed to leave their isolated
corner of the training base. Moreover, cooks and cleaning crews were
forbidden in the name of operational secrecy. As a result, all present
-- trainees as well as interpreters -- were required to rotate chores
and eat the same meals. As an incarnation and brother of the Dalai
Lama, Norbu found this too much to take and at one point refused the
food. The CIA cadre was not amused. "If you don't eat it," said
Mustakos sternly, "the students won't eat it." Norbu eventually backed
down and consumed his proletarian meal.
The Khampas, by contrast, offered no complaints about the Spartan
conditions. With rare exceptions, their health rarely faltered. One
scare occurred when trainee Tsawang Dorje -- now going by the name
"Sam" -- suffered a ruptured appendix. A few weeks later, the same
hapless agent accidentally shot himself in the foot with a pistol. Both
incidents required emergency trips to Okinawa, and both resulted in
fast recoveries.
On another occasion, Lhotse- -- his name now Americanized to "Lou" --
caught a bad case of dysentery. By chance, CIA Director Allen Dulles
was passing through Saipan during a Far East tour and had along his
personal physician. From the latter, the local doctor was able to
obtain a new drug and get Lou started on a course of treatment.
Concerned, the CIA instructors checked with Lou daily to determine if
his bowel purges continued.
"Shit today?" they asked. To this, the afflicted agent repeated the
words in the affirmative. Convinced that the medication was not taking
effect, the CIA instructors sent Lou and an interpreter to the hospital
for closer observation. There they learned that Lou had already
returned to normal and had merely been reciting the phrase to showcase
his newfound command of select English words. [20]
Such medical emergencies aside, the Khampas were shaping up to be model
students. "They were new to us," said Mustakos. "Culturally and
psychologically, we were learning from them as much as they were
learning from us." Sometimes this led to conclusions that bordered on
the comical. The Tibetans, for example, saw American omnipotence in
seemingly unrelated events. Each night at sundown, the CIA advisers
sprayed the compound with an insecticide-dispensing unit mounted on a
jeep. This awed the Tibetans, who viewed the routine as proof that the
United States was a powerful country. Said case officer Mustakos, "They
noted that we had devised ways of killing big things -- like people --
by using the weapons with which we were training, and even killing
little things -- like mosquitoes -- with the DDT fogger." [21]
Such innocent observations only served to endear the Tibetans to their
CIA instructors. One of the most impressed was Roger McCarthy. Thirty
years old, the gregarious McCarthy had joined the CIA in 1952 as a
communications specialist for Western Enterprises. Promoted to case
officer, he arrived in Saipan in 1956 and had just completed a
paramilitary training cycle for six members of the Lao intelligence
service prior to the arrival of the Tibetans. "The Lao would get
frightened during nighttime operations," he recalls, "and hold each
other's hands." The Tibetans, by contrast, were of entirely different
mettle. "They were brave and honest and strong," said McCarthy.
"Basically, everything we respect in a man." [22]
Training officer Mustakos shared similar sentiments about the rugged
Khampas. This was underscored during close-quarter combat instruction
when he tossed a traditional short Tibetan sword to Lou and told him to
attack. "I learned from that," said Mustakos, "to find out if knife
fighting was native lore before trying it again."
After a month-long extension to allow Geshe Wangyal to complete his
language instruction, training for the Khampas was all but finished by
mid-September. To properly outfit them for their return, an urgent
request had been flashed back to India for six sets of used Tibetan
peasant garb, knives, and coins. Once Gyalo gathered the items, he
rushed down to Calcutta and notified his case officer, John Hoskins.
Smuggled into the consulate, the unwashed, reeking load was divided
into half a dozen diplomatic pouches and posted to Saipan. [23]
Other preparations were well under way for insertion of the agents back
into Tibet. To save time -- and avoid the diplomatic and physical
hazards of walking back through Indian territory -- the CIA intended to
drop them inside their homeland by parachute. As CIA headquarters had
given the cryptonym ST CIRCUS to the emerging Tibet Task Force, this
aerial portion of the project retained the same theme and was
code-named ST BARNUM. [24] [a]
Airborne infiltration posed a whole range of difficulties. First, it
required a discreet staging base within range of Tibet; just as during
ex filtration, East Pakistan was the optimal choice. Second, the flight
would necessarily be conducted at night, which meant that the plane
needed both clear weather and a full moon to negotiate its way to the
drop zone. Fortunately, both weather patterns and moon phases were
predictable. In East Pakistan, the annual monsoon season came to a
close in October, and over Tibet, the clearest skies could be found in
October and November. Factoring in a full moon, this meant that premium
conditions were most likely to occur during a six-day window beginning
6 October and during another six-day window starting 5 November. [25]
An even greater challenge was determining where in Tibet the agents
would be inserted. From the moment the Khampas arrived in Saipan, part
of that station's mandate had been to help select drop zones. During
debriefings of the trainees, each was quizzed about his hometown, where
he had traveled, what routes he had taken, names of villages along the
way, and people he had met. Starting from crude route tracings, the CIA
instructors slowly added village names, terrain features, and distance
notations.
Concurrently, CIA headquarters assigned the Far East Division's air
branch to flesh out the details for ST BARNUM. Heading the task was the
branch's deputy, Gar Thorsrud. No stranger to covert air support,
Thorsrud had been a student at the University of Montana when first
approached by a CIA recruiter in the summer of 1951. The recruiter was
looking for smoke jumpers, the unique breed of firefighters employed by
the U.S. Forest Service. During the dry summer months, these jumpers
were on call at rural airstrips across the western half of the United
States. When a forest fire flared, they donned parachutes and dropped
in small teams ahead of the advancing flames. Using shovels and saws to
cut firebreaks, they were responsible for saving thousands of acres of
woodland.
For the CIA, smoke jumpers were attractive on a number of counts. Not
only were they fit and adventurous, but the job entailed learning the
basics about parachuting and air delivery techniques. Smoke jumpers, in
fact, were on the leading edge with equipment such as steerable chutes
and skills such as rough-terrain jumping. Moreover, many -- like
Thorsrud -- were promising college students who volunteered for the
task during summer break.
In the spring of 1951, just after his graduation, Thorsrud and another
smoke jumper were asked to report early to train a pair of CIA officers
in rough terrain parachuting techniques. Upon completion, both were
offered CIA employment subject to a security review. By that fall,
another eight were recruited and passed the review.
By year's end, the Montana smoke-jumping contingent had departed for
the Far East. Once there, they were briefed by agency case officers.
Indigenous teams and singleton agents were being readied for insertion
into China and North Korea, they were told. Because of their
parachuting background, the smoke jumpers were assigned to act as jump
masters and "kickers," the descriptive term used for cargo handlers who
pushed parachute-equipped supply pallets out the back of transport
aircraft.
For the next two years, Taiwan-based smoke jumpers helped deliver
agents and kick bundles behind communist lines. Thorsrud was involved
in some of the deepest penetrations to supply Muslim guerrillas in
western China. But at the end of the Korean War, nearly all the jumpers
resigned from the agency for more mundane civilian assignments. Among
them was Thorsrud, who joined the Air National Guard for pilot training
in anticipation of a career with an airline.
It was not to be. In the summer of 1956, Thorsrud was again contacted
by the agency and asked to rejoin the Far East Division's air branch.
Weighed against a career as a commercial pilot, the CIA post won.
Once he was handed the Tibet assignment, one of Thorsrud's first tasks
was to sort out the issue of drop zones. Although the CIA had a special
office for worldwide overhead imagery, the files on Tibet were
exceedingly thin. Satellites did not yet exist, and the U-2 spy plane
-- which had been penetrating the Soviet bloc for just a little over a
year -- had flown only a single Tibet overflight on 21 August 1957.
Apart from this, few current photographic and cartographic resources
were to be found in the agency's archives. [26]
Digging deeper, Thorsrud eventually came up with some useful, albeit
dated, photographs. These came from the 1904 British military
expedition that had pushed its way into Lhasa to seek a trade
agreement. The best shot was a photo of the Brahmaputra River, clearly
showing the dunes and extensive wash along its northern bank after
flood stage. Just sixty kilometers southeast of the Tibetan capital,
this sandy expanse was selected as the site for the first drop.
Based on information coming from Saipan, a second drop zone was chosen
near Molha Khashar, a tiny village of two dozen families just outside
Lithang. Besides being the hometown of Walt's family, Molha Khashar was
reputed to be an area of armed Khampa resistance. [27]
With two drop zones selected, Thorsrud now had to decide on planes and
crews. Within the agency's own Asian proprietary -- Taiwan-based CAT --
there was more than sufficient talent. During the Korean War, U.S.
crewmen flying for CAT had conducted dozens of drop missions and
intelligence-collection flights over mainland China. But after a CAT
C-47 was downed over the PRC in November 1952 -- followed by the crash
of a covert USAF flight over China in January 1953 -- U.S. crews were
forbidden to fly agent infiltrations over the mainland.
An Asian alternative could be found within the ranks of the ROC air
force. Back in 1952, five Nationalist pilots and two mechanics had been
sent to Japan under CIA auspices. There they began training in
low-level flights and drop techniques. By the middle of the following
year, the contingent returned home as the cadre of a new Special
Mission Team. Initially supplied with a single B-26 and two B-17s on
loan from Western Enterprises, the team did not see action until
February 1954. That month, the B-26 dropped leaflets over Shanghai to
disrupt the fourth anniversary celebrations of the Sino-Soviet
Friendship Treaty. That flight was deemed a success, and the team was
flying an average of one mainland infiltration per month by the time
Thorsrud was planning the Tibet assignment. Its missions included not
only leaflet, supply, and agent drops but also electronic-signal
collection flights to gather data about the PRC's air defenses. [28]
Although there was no denying the competence of the Nationalist
Chinese, their participation was ruled out. This was because the ROC
still entertained the notion that Tibet was part of greater China, a
position that earned them the scorn of most Tibetans. If Taipei was
brought into the fold and word leaked, it would undercut the CIA's
relations with the Tibetan resistance.
With Americans and Nationalist Chinese precluded, Thorsrud searched for
another option. He eventually found one in an unlikely place. Back in
1949, the CIA had hired two Czech airmen when it needed a deniable crew
to drop Ukrainian agents into their homeland. These Czechs had earlier
distinguished themselves while flying for the British during the Battle
of Britain and had remained in England after their homeland fell to
communism. In a variation on this theme, the CIA and British
intelligence had jointly prepared a paramilitary operation the
following year to unseat the communist government in Albania. Again
looking for foreign aircrews, the British had suggested tapping the
large pool of Polish veterans in England who had performed brilliantly
during World War II. Thus, six stateless Poles from within that
community had been hired and dispatched to a staging base in Athens,
Greece, for the Albanian assignment.
Pleased with the results, the CIA in 1955 again turned to stateless
Poles when it needed crews for a covert operation running out of
Wiesbaden, Germany. Using modified P2V Neptune antisubmarine aircraft,
missions were flown along the Soviet frontier to collect electronic
intelligence. Although Americans piloted many of these flights, two of
the planes were flown with Polish crews and used for actual
penetrations of Soviet airspace.
It was from this seasoned Polish contingent at Wiesbaden -- code-named
Ostiary -- that the Far East Division requested the loan of two
five-man crews to perform the Tibetan assignment. The first was to be
headed by Captain Franciszek Czekalski, the thirty-six-year-old leader
of the Wiesbaden Poles. The second was under Captain Jan Drobny, a
former flying sergeant who had flown special wartime drop missions to
the anti-Axis resistance movement in Poland.
After gaining agency approval to use Ostiary, Thorsrud had to decide on
an infiltration plane. By 1957, the workhorse for covert China
overflights from Taiwan was the B-17. The four-engined Flying Fortress
had been a fixture of the European theater during World War II. For the
CIA's missions over mainland China its ROC-based bombers had been
stripped of all weapons and national markings, painted black, and
modified with engine mufflers to shield the exhaust. Given its range
and maneuverability, it was deemed suitable for ST BARNUM.
In mid-September, the finalized plan was sent to CIA Director Dulles
for his signature. Upon his consent, a Taiwan-based B-17 was flown to
Clark Air Force Base in the Philippines. [29] Piloting the bomber was
Robert Kleyla, one of the officers managing the CIA air fleet in the
ROC. Once at Clark, he met up with the two Ostiary crews escorted by
their Wiesbaden case officer, Monty Ballew. Though none of the
Europeans had ever flown a B-17, they took to the bomber quickly.
Acting as instructor, Kleyla gave the Polish captains what turned out
to be a pro forma checkout. "They already were well qualified in four
engines," he summed up. [30]
Their transition complete, the Ostiary contingent loaded into the lone
bomber and ferried it to Okinawa. There they married up with the
Tibetans, who had arrived to start airborne training. Much preparation
and experimentation had gone into this phase of the operation. Leading
the effort was James McElroy, head of the CIA's aerial resupply section
at Kadena Air Base. Eighteen years old when he enlisted in 1946,
McElroy had been a U.S. Army parachute rigger until seconded to the CIA
in 1951. He now oversaw a section of four Americans and ninety
Okinawans who were responsible for parachute delivery operations in
support of CIA operations across the Far East. [31]
Just prior to the arrival of the Tibetans, McElroy had been contacted
by Saipan station with two requests. First, they wanted a parachute
with high maneuverability. Second, they needed a system to ensure that
a large supply bundle would remain with the jumper. McElroy was told
that the drop zone was at an elevation of 4,545 meters (15,000 feet)
with no elaboration on the destination.
For the maneuverable parachute, McElroy took a page from the smoke
jumpers. During the early 1940s, they had developed a twenty-eight-foot
flat-surface chute with modified slots and tails that gave them
sufficient steering ability to maneuver near the edge of firestorms.
Inspired by this, McElroy back in 1953 had tried to work similar
modifications into the military's standard thirty- five-foot T-10
chute. The results had been disappointing, though in hindsight, he
realized that the problem was failure to compensate with sufficiently
large slots for the bigger army T-10.
This time, McElroy used the same proportions as the smoke jumper
prototypes. The new chutes, with bigger slots and longer tails, were
tested by McElroy and Saipan training officer Roger McCarthy. After
four jumps, they concluded that the modified T-10s had the required
steerability.
For the second request -- keeping the bundle close to the jumper --
McElroy had something much more revolutionary in mind. Harkening back
to the end of World War II, he recalled seeing a magazine photograph of
a row of connected bundles streaming out the door of a C-47. "I wasn't
sure if it was ever used in combat," he said, "but I wanted to try
something similar." Sketching out his concept, McElroy envisioned a
nylon line running from the chest of the jumper to the supply pallet.
Static lines would deploy chutes on both the pallet and the
parachutist, with a 91-meter line keeping the two connected. If one of
the two chutes failed to deploy, the line was designed to break if
overstressed. McElroy was confident that the system would work -- at
least on paper.
Once the Tibetans arrived, they were given a primer on landing
techniques and then outfitted with the modified chutes. Fearless of
heights after years of peering off tall canyons, they exited the plane
without hesitation. Much to the case officer's delight, they even used
the steerable rigs to chase one another in the air. Three jumps later,
all were declared qualified.
By that time, they were into the first days of October, and optimal
moon and weather conditions were set to begin over Tibet. Before
leaving Kadena, the resupply section loaded bundles inside the B-17.
Each of the two Tibetan teams would get a single bundle weighing no
more than 114 kilos (250 pounds). Included inside was radio gear, extra
crystals, and personal weapons. To get this bundle off the drop zone as
fast as possible, the CIA logisticians had broken the gear down into
36- kilo (80-pound) segments and placed them inside special pouched
vests similar to those used by newspaper delivery men. [32]
Once their supplies were secured on board, the Tibetans, along with a
handful of CIA case officers and both Ostiary crews, took the B-17 to
East Pakistan. As with their earlier C-118 ex filtration, the black,
unmarked bomber was cleared to land at the unused airstrip at
Kurmitola, thirteen kilometers north of Dacca. An Allied runway during
World War II, the Kurmitola field was 1,060 meters long, 45 meters
wide, and almost 2 meters thick -- all of hand-laid brick. Adjacent to
the strip was a hangar with open ends, some empty brick buildings with
tin roofs in bad repair, and little else. Because East Pakistan's main
north-south road had been built across the center of the runway at a
right angle, soldiers from the nearby cantonment were directed to
divert traffic at a discreet distance while the B-17 was present. [33]
The communications shed at Kurmitola airfield, East Pakistan; the
lightning rod at
right is where a CIA technician was electrocuted. (Courtesy Walter Cox)
As the bomber landed and the case officers disembarked, they were
immediately hit by two bits of bad news. First, they learned that a CIA
communications technician -- dispatched to Kurmitola the previous week
to establish a secure radio link -- had been electrocuted while
erecting an antenna. Second, they got word that the Soviets had just
bested America and successfully launched the first satellite into Earth
orbit. [34]
With little time to ponder these developments, the officers immediately
set about preparing the B-17 for its drop. Captain Czekalski's five-man
team was selected to crew the plane; no Americans were to be on board.
To minimize exposure over Tibet, the Poles would conduct both drops on
the same flight. Because the plane would need to overfly Indian
territory without permission, they had to factor in the radar at
Calcutta. Gar Thorsrud had already done his homework and knew that the
Indian system had no compensation feature and could be defeated if the
B-17 used the Himalayan massif as a radar screen. Flying north over
Sikkim, the crew would go as far as the Brahmaputra for the first drop,
cut east across the Tibetan plateau to Kham for the second drop, then
veer southwest through Indian territory back to East Pakistan. "It
would be an easy flight for the Poles," concluded Thorsrud. [35]
Inside the B-17, two supply loads were positioned near the 1.4-meter
(54 inch) hatch -- known as a "joe hole" -- located in the bclly of the
cabin. The Polish loadmaster for the flight, "Big Mac" Korczowski,
reviewed with Roger McCarthy the procedure of placing each bundle over
the hole and securing it with restraints.
After a one-day delay (because it was considered inauspicious according
to the Tibetan calendar), all six Khampas boarded the aircraft. [36] As
Kurmitola had no runway lights, flame pots framed the edges of the
runway. Before the plane could take off, however, the weather closed
in, and the mission was scrubbed. Three more days of overcast followed,
and tension was beginning to mount as the full moon entered its final
day.
With just one more chance, the weather finally proved cooperative, and
the mission was given the green light. As the Tibetans filed inside the
plane and their Buddhist prayers echoed through the cabin, they turned
one last time to case officer Mustakos and offered up a Christian
tradition. "I had taught them the sign of the cross," said Mustakos,
"and now they sought a double blessing."
Lifting off from Kurmitola, Czekalski put the B-17 on a northern
heading over the Sikkim corridor. With the Himalayas bathed in a
celestial glow, the Ostiary crew climbed over the range and negotiated
their way onto the Tibetan plateau.
Inside their homeland for the first time in over a year, the agents
readied themselves for the first jump. Despite the altitude and
unprcssurized cabin, the Tibetans were not using oxygen bottles; a
lifetime of mountain living had acclimatized them to the thin air.
As moonlight reflected off the distant Brahmaputra, two of the agents
Tom and Lou, now given the radio call signs Budwood 1 and Budwood 2 --
maneuvered toward the joe hole. Selected as the jumper to be connected
to the bundle, Tom adjusted a short section of line near his chest; the
remaining 91 meters was rolled and covered with elastic loops on the
side of the supplies. "I carried a knife at my side," recalled Tom,
"just in case something went wrong."
As the B-17 came over the Brahmaputra, the cockpit crew flashed a
signal in the cabin. Facing forward with his feet near the hole, Tom
watched as Big Mac yanked the restraints on the supplies. Once the load
disappeared out the hatch, the line began to play out from the side of
the bundle. A second later, Tom dropped into the void.
The sound of the bomber fast receded, followed by the sound of a dog
barking. As Tom looked about to get his bearings, he eyed the bundle
and its white cargo chute floating before him. The jumper-to-supply
line system was working perfectly. Lou, meanwhile, used his steerable
T-10 to follow in Tom's wake toward the approaching sandbank. [37]
Inside the B-17, navigator Franciszek Kot wasted no time plotting an
eastern course, while Big Mac hauled the second bundle over the joe
hole. When they came upon Kham, however, they found that clear skies
had given way to a solid cloud bank. Without any sophisticated
navigational systems aboard, the crew had little choice but to abort
the second drop and head back to East Pakistan. By that time, the full
moon phase had run its course; any further attempts at infiltration
would have to wait until the next lunar cycle.
Back inside Tibet, Lou and Tom landed without incident on the
wind-blown dunes north of the Brahmaputra. Freeing themselves from
their parachute harnesses, they both unstrapped the 9mm Sten submachine
guns fixed to their chests and peered into the darkness. Although there
was a small settlement of three families just 364 meters (400 yards)
away, they received no indication that they had been detected.
Turning their attention to the supply bundle, they broke open the load
and started removing the prepacked vests. Since the area around the
drop zone consisted of soft earth, they decided to dig seven holes and
cache most of their supplies in the immediate vicinity. Before doing
so, both changed into traditional Tibetan garb and retained one pistol
and one grenade apiece. They also kept one RS-1 radio set and buried
the spare.
The next morning, Tom and Lou wandered through the nearby village.
Because nomads and traders are common throughout Tibet, the sudden
appearance of two strangers aroused no undue suspicion. Mingling with
the locals, they overheard talk about their plane passing overhead in
the night. None of the villagers suspected that any parachutists had
landed, so the pair felt safe waiting two days in the vicinity before
taking their radio to the top of an adjacent hill. To their dismay,
however, they found that the set had sustained damage in the drop. "The
light on the transmitter was very faint," recalled Tom, who had
graduated as best radioman among the six trainees. "I tapped a few
words but had no way of knowing if it was actually sent." [38]
Leaving the malfunctioning set behind, the pair decided to follow the
Brahmaputra. After trekking along its bank for a few hours, they
eventually came upon a secluded riverside village near Samye. Pivotal
in the history of Tibet, Samye was the site of the monastery where
Buddhism was officially inaugurated as the state religion. Because it
hosted a constant stream of pilgrims, the arrival of the two outsiders
again aroused no attention. "I had the grenade and pistol in my pockets
just in case," remembers Tom.
After purchasing horses and some food, the agents reversed direction
east toward the Woka valley. Riddled with caves and hot springs, Woka
was renowned for its shrines and other meditation sites. But before
they could reach this area, the agents chanced upon a band of seven
Khampa pilgrims heading toward the Tibetan capital. Tom and Lou were in
for a shock. Two of the approaching pilgrims were friends from among
their own group of young Khampas that had tailed the Dalai Lama during
the Buddha Jayanti. Taking the pair aside, the agents swore them to
secrecy and asked that they deliver messages to prominent Khampa trader
Gompo Tashi Andrugtsang and Lou's own younger brother, both residing in
Lhasa.
As the Khampa entourage continued toward the capital, Tom and Lou
returned to their drop zone and unearthed the spare RS-1. Finding it in
good working order, the pair tapped out several sentences, briefly
outlining their activities over the past ten days.
***
For Irving "Frank" Holober, ten days had been a long wait. A
thirty-three-year-old Harvard graduate, he had been serving as head of
the Tibet Task Force since late July 1957. Like his predecessor John
Reagan, Holober was a China specialist: three years at headquarters as
a Chinese translator, then a tour with Western Enterprises, where he
helped channel support to Muslims in Amdo. Following that had been a
three-year sojourn in Indonesia before assuming Reagan's slot.
>From the start, Holober had been beset with problems. Reports were
coming in from Saipan that Norbu resented the harsh conditions,
especially being forced to eat the same food as the students. As soon
as the training cycle concluded, the incarnation and his servant
promptly quit the program.
Of far greater concern was the fate of Lou and Tom. From the moment the
two agents jumped from the B-17, the CIA had been straining to hear
word from their pilot team. After a week had passed, there was growing
fear that the pair was lost. With little to do, Geshe Wangyal had been
temporarily released from service to return to his New Jersey ministry.
As an emergency stopgap, Holober had arranged for help from the
National Security Agency (NSA), the U.S. intelligence organization
charged with communications intercepts. Based at Fort Meade, Maryland,
the NSA agreed to loan the CIA its sole Tibetan linguist, Stuart Buck.
[39]
Buck had his work cut out for him. While on Saipan, Geshe Wangyal had
taught his Tibetan students a remedial code in which their native
script was roughly adapted to the Roman alphabet. But because the six
Khampas were not fluent in their own written language, spelling errors
in Tibetan were compounded by an inexact Roman transliteration. This is
exactly what happened when Tom's message was flashed to CIA
headquarters. Trying to make sense of the poor spelling, Buck threw up
his hands. "It basically says, 'I'm alive.'"
That was all Holober needed to know. "The entire Far East Division," he
recalls, "was electrified." [40]
At Clark Air Base, the Ostiary crews had also been playing a waiting
game. Sitting out the remainder of October while the moon ran its
phases, they married up with the four remaining Tibetans and moved back
to Kurmitola during the first week of November. This time the weather
was fully cooperative as the B-17 made a moonlit departure for Kham.
[41]
Catching sight of the Lithang River -- which ran past the town of the
same name -- the crew dropped low over the hills. As they arrived over
what they believed was the vicinity of Molha Khashar, the cockpit
flashed a signal to the cabin.
Just as the agents lined up behind the joe hole, Dick hyperventilated
and collapsed on the cabin floor. As the loadmaster pulled him to the
side, the other three readied themselves for the jump. Repeating the
procedure used in the first drop, restraints were pulled from the
supply bundle, and it disappeared through the hatch. On the other end
of the belly line went Sam, followed by the remaining two agents in
quick succession. Reversing course, the B-17 headed back toward East
Pakistan with the unconscious Dick still aboard.
Unlike Tom and Lou -- who had landed on a desolate sand flat -- the
three Kham agents came down in a hillside of conifers. Landing without
injury, they cached their supplies and ascended to the top of a nearby
mountain under cover of darkness. There they heard gunfire in the
distance as the PLA dueled with Khampa guerrillas.
As dawn broke, Walt took his bearings. To his dismay, he found that the
plane had overshot their intended drop zone by some fourteen
kilometers. Walking along the high ground into the afternoon, they
spotted a lone Khampa tending to five Tibetan ponies. The herdsman was
visibly apprehensive as the agents approached, though he eventually
agreed to escort them to a guerrilla encampment on a neighboring hill.
By nightfall, the three agents had successfully linked up with the
rebel band, which coincidentally included Walt's older brother.
Together, they headed back to their cache site and retrieved their
gear, and just forty-eight hours after infiltration, they radioed word
of their safe arrival. ST CIRCUS was off to a good start.
_______________
American-Buddha Librarian's Comment:
Geir
forth because it's too good and people worldwide who still believe the
hogwash dished out as Tibetan HIstory and are totally in the dark, need
to wake up now.
I'm sending it to RFA now.
Geir
and blow the whole Tiebtan situation out of the water for the Tibetans.
RFA, (Radio Free Asia) can then take on the fraudulent quacks within
Tibetan Buddhism's relgious realm and clean that up seeing Buddhists
can't do it themselves; The total destruction of Tibetan Buddhism as
prophecied in the Kalachakra Tantra will thus be realized and the
coming of Kalachakra's pure rule, cleaned out of all the quacks, can
then begin.
Geir
other agencies that are at RFA will now take over from the frauds that
can't clean up Buddhism. Seeing all this smut has seeped into Buddhism
snce the exile and lying has set in because of the Nobel, with making
false rendering of History, well it's high time.
I'll be sending the first of the posts in just under a few hours from
now over to RFA.
Time to realize the work at hand that needs to be adressed urgently
after all these years it's been occulted and set aside. The rot in
Tibetan Buddhism is horrendous now and needs urgent help !!!
Geir
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- WHALE
For John Waller, Tibet was more than an intelligence target -- it was
an obsession. As a twenty- year-old fresh out of college, he had landed
himself a slot with the OSS in North Africa during World War II,
eventually rising to deputy Middle East theater chief for
counterespionage. But it was the land farther east -- above the high
Himalayas -- that drew his constant attention. "I was attracted to that
part of Central Asia," he later commented, "precisely because few
others paid much attention to it." [1]
Joining the CIA after the war, Waller continued his private infatuation
with Tibet, using his time in Washington to absorb whatever material he
could find on the subject at the Library of Congress. It was only after
being posted to New Delhi as the deputy station chief in January 1955
that he was forced to put aside this glorified hobby and focus on
domestic Indian matters.
The following year, Tibet was back in the news, and India had front-row
seats. When the Dalai Lama visited New Delhi in late 1956 and the
Indian government threw a diplomatic roast in his honor, it was Waller
who attended as the sole embassy representative. Perhaps appropriately,
when the Tibetan leader headed home the following spring, Waller, too,
took his leave of India and returned to Washington for a headquarters
assignment.
Not until March 1959, after receiving word that the Dalai Lama was
stealing toward the Indian border for apparent exile, did Waller
receive emergency orders to rush back to the subcontinent. Once in
India, he wasted no time making his way to Calcutta and linking up with
fellow CIA officer John Hoskins. Together they drove to Darjeeling.
By that time, word had already leaked that Tibet's monarch was en route
to the Northeast Frontier Agency (NEFA; India's euphemism for the
rugged buffer it administered along the Tibetan frontier between Bhutan
and Burma) and from there would presumably make his way down to the
tropical lowlands of Assam state. The story had more than its share of
drama, and nearly 200 representatives from the international press
descended on Tezpur, a normally sleepy tea planters' town in Assam that
was along the Dalai Lama's likely egress.
"It was a media circus at Tezpur," recalled Waller. The Tezpur Station
Club, once a private reserve for British tea planters, had newsmen
packed into its rooms, curled up on its lobby chairs, and sprawled
across its billiard tables. Among them were several Waller had
befriended during his New Delhi assignment. He discreetly established
contact, looking to tap information without the risk of going to Assam
himself. "The last thing in the world we wanted to do was go to the
border and be seen with the Dalai Lama," he later explained. [2]
An even better channel was the Dalai Lama's own brother, Gyalo Thondup.
From Darjeeling, Gyalo had made contact with Hoskins before racing
east to intercept the monarch's entourage. On 18 April, the siblings
met in a village forty-eight kilometers north of Tezpur. It was there
during private conversation that the Dalai Lama laid out all that had
happened in the weeks since crossing into India.
Things had started out well enough, Gyalo learned. Still weak from
dysentery, Tibet's leader had taken five days to move from the
ill-defined Tibetan border down to Towang. There he was given a moving
reception by some 300 monks at Towang's resident monastery, the largest
outside of Tibet. The group was hardly out of danger, however (the
latest Chinese maps laid claim to NEFA), and a detachment from India's
paramilitary Assam Rifles had deployed along the frontier in case the
PLA was intent on pursuit. [3]
While in Towang, the Dalai Lama had his first meeting with a junior
Indian political official. That official informed the monarch that he
would act as escort to Bomdila, a larger town seventy kilometers
farther south, where the Dalai Lama could discuss important issues with
P. N. Menon, the official from the Ministry of External Affairs who had
served as his liaison officer during his 1956-1957 visit to India, and
A. K. Dave, a China expert from the Intelligence Bureau.
By the end of the second week of April, the Dalai Lama had reached
Bomdila and made immediate contact with Menon and Dave. Just as
quickly, their talks grew heated. Counseling moderation, Menon urged
the monarch to refrain from any mention of an independent government in
exile during his initial public statement, which he would presumably
make upon confronting the mob of newsmen at Tezpur. At this, the Dalai
Lama bristled. His press announcement had already been penned, he said,
and he was determined to push for independence. The monarch told Menon
defiantly that if New Delhi insisted that he accept the limited role of
prominent religious leader, perhaps he should not accept Nehru's offer
of asylum.
Clearly unsatisfied, the Dalai Lama departed Bomdila by jeep on 18
April and was finally able to meet Gyalo and relay his early
frustration with New Delhi. The Dalai Lama also used the opportunity to
pass his brother a verbal message to the U.S. government, reaffirming
his determination to support the resistance of his people and asking
Washington to recognize his exiled government and supply those who were
continuing the resistance.
Together, the brothers made their way down to Tezpur, where the Dalai
Lama was briefly overwhelmed by the flood of journalists and the
carnival atmosphere. By 23 April, Gyalo was able to quietly pass a
detailed update to Hoskins and Waller, including a paraphrased account
of the Dalai Lama's request. [4]
Suddenly showing more backbone than any time in the past, the
twenty-three-year-old Tibetan leader was upsetting apple-carts all
over. India, in particular, was in a fix. On the one hand, New Delhi
hinted at its sympathy for the rebels inside Tibet. The Indians,
moreover, were probably not wholly naive about Gyalo's clandestine
activities over the previous years. Gossip, after all, flowed freely in
the Tibetan refugee community. In addition, the Indians had a prime
window into activities in Darjeeling beginning in late 1956, when Gyalo
hired an Indian (a former Morse operator and government employee who
had served at India's consulate in Lhasa) to give English lessons to
six Tibetans he was preening as future translators and assistants. Only
a fool or an innocent would believe that this tutor kept what he saw
and heard from his former bosses. [5]
On the other hand, India had long seen an advantage in its delicate
dance with China vis-a-vis Tibet. As recently as 30 March 1959 -- just
a day before the Dalai Lama crossed into India -- Nehru had reaffirmed
his desire for good relations with Beijing. Now that Tibet's exiled
leader was speaking in terms of independence instead of autonomy -- and
with rumors of thousands of guerrillas fleeing for sanctuary in India
-- the earlier status quo was no longer viable. [6]
The Dalai Lama's assertive posturing also had Washington scrambling for
an appropriate response. Throughout the month of April, the U.S.
government took pains to ensure that it did not appear to be
instigating or exploiting the revolt for cold war profit. If such a
perception arose, there was fear that Nehru might lash out against both
the United States and the Tibetans. This even applied to U.S. aid for
Tibetan refugees; to avoid the impression that it was being offered for
political rather than humanitarian reasons, no supplies were to be sent
unless requested by India, and preferably for indirect distribution
through the Indians themselves. [7]
Unwilling to take a lead role, Washington hinged its response on Asians
themselves confronting China's aggression. To a degree, this strategy
bore fruit. According to a U.S. Information Agency survey in early
April, no recent communist event, including the harsh Soviet measures
in Hungary during 1956, had provoked more public condemnation in South
and Southeast Asia than China's actions against Tibet. By month's end,
neutral Asian states were generally reacting favorably from a "free
world point of view," even though India was not as forceful as
Washington might have liked. President Eisenhower even talked wistfully
in terms of regional arch rivals India and Pakistan coming to a better
understanding against a common Chinese foe. [8]
Behind the scenes, however, some U.S. policy makers were chafing to do
more. Serious talk to this effect had started in late March during the
final days before the Dalai Lama left Tibetan soil. Following a
fast-paced exchange of memorandums between CIA Director Dulles and
Eisenhower's senior NSC staffer Gordon Gray, presidential approval was
extended on 1 April for continued para- military action in support of
the Tibetan resistance. Dulles assured the president that such action
fell within existing policy authorizations and that the United States
was not exposing itself to an open-ended commitment. [9]
The trouble was, any commitment -- much less an open-ended one -- was
becoming all but impossible to plan. After seeing the Dalai Lama off at
the border, the CIA's pair of radio agents had headed north to seek out
Gompo Tashi. They had not yet reached Lhuntse Dzong when the Khampa
chieftain found them. Notified of his promotion to general, Gompo Tashi
hardly had time to celebrate. With PLA forces closing for a two-pronged
attack, and guerrilla morale low, Tom and Lou took to the radio to
relay desperate pleas for food and ammunition. [10]
Responding, the CIA loaded a C-118 with supply pallets and rushed it to
Kurmitola during mid- April. By that time, however, the area around
Lhuntse Dzong was on the verge of collapse. With the plane still on the
tarmac, Tom and Lou broke for the border. Gompo Tashi and a band of
Khampa guerrillas had preceded them by a few days, handing in their
weapons to Indian guards on 29 April and crossing into the sanctuary of
NEFA. [11]
With the NVDA in southern Tibet in full disarray and having lost its
radio link on the scene, the CIA took two interim measures. First, it
delayed plans to infiltrate the team of Lithang Khampas that had been
training in the United States since the fall of 1958. As of the close
of April, the team (now attrited to six members; two others had washed
out because of poor mental aptitude) was on the verge of shifting to
new quarters at Colorado's Camp Hale. The Khampas had originally been
scheduled to parachute into their homeland by late May, but plans for
the drop were now on hold, pending more information on the disposition
of the resistance.
As a second measure, yet another contingent of Tibetans was to be
selected by Gyalo from among the refugee community for training in the
United States. The recruitment pool was now far larger than at any time
in the past. By early April, the number of displaced Tibetans reaching
India had grown from a trickle to a steady stream; 6,000 of the new
arrivals were crowded inside hastily constructed bamboo huts near
Bomdila, and another 1,000 lived in similar arrangements at a transit
camp close to Sikkim. From these, eighteen young men -- fifteen Khampas
and three Amdowas -- made the cut. Joining them as translators were
three of the Tibetans Gyalo had sponsored for English lessons over the
previous three years. [12]
Although Gyalo had been heavily involved in ex filtrating the two
previous groups of trainees, he was now occupied with shadowing the
Dalai Lama. There was no time for him to escort the third contingent
along the underground railroad into East Pakistan, so the recruits were
instructed to make their own way from Darjeeling to Siliguri for a
rendezvous with Gyalo's cook Gelung.
As planned, the contingent linked up on the outskirts of Siliguri.
Their intention was to turn south and walk the distance to the border.
Unfortunately for the Tibetans, the presence of nearly two dozen
Orientals marching along the roadside attracted the attention of the
local Indian authorities. A police jeep drove slowly past, then
returned a second time. Fearful of capture, the Tibetans slipped into
the adjacent forest for a night's sleep. At daybreak they returned to
the road to continue their journey and ran straight into a police
roadblock.
They were placed under arrest, but Gelung, the only Hindi speaker in
the bunch, came up with a plausible alibi. They were Tibetan refugees,
he explained truthfully, and they had heard that there were jobs
available in East Pakistan. After smoothing their story with a modest
bribe (one of the Khampas was carrying a pocketful of rupees; several
others were carrying Tibetan knives), they were sent back to Darjeeling
with a reprimand. [13]
Several weeks later, in mid-May, the group again set out for East
Pakistan. This time, Gyalo made himself available to drive some of them
down to the Siliguri city limits; the remainder took the train. The
group now consisted of twenty-three members: the eighteen young
recruits (average age, twenty-two) and three translators, plus two
older Khampas in their mid-forties. With compass in hand, Gelung
successfully navigated them around Siliguri proper and across the
frontier. A Pakistani officer met them on the other side, loaded them
on a truck, and took them to a train car sitting on a desolate section
of track. A locomotive soon arrived, hooked up with the car, and
carried the group down to Dacca.
Shuttled from the train to Kurmitola aboard a bus with black curtains
on the windows, the Tibetans were deposited at the rear door of the
USAF's unmarked C-118. Inside to greet them was Tony Poe. "My first
impression was that the Americans were so big," recalled one of the
interpreters, Tashi Choedak. "I was stunned by his height." [14]
After a refueling stop at Clark Air Base, Poe took the Tibetans to
Okinawa. There they were crowded inside a safe house and taken away in
trios for the standard battery of physical exams and aptitude tests.
Because the two older Khampas were deemed unfit to undergo the rigors
of paramilitary training, they were ordered to remain behind on
Okinawa. One of the younger Khampas was belatedly rejected as too frail
for parachute infiltration. For the remaining twenty, Camp Hale
awaited.
With two Tibetan contingents in the United States by late May, the
Tibet Task Force was making headway in developing a trained cadre that
would have a multiplier effect for an active resistance movement. But
with the CIA's sketchy intelligence indicating that the NVDA had been
soundly thrashed, there was a good chance that there might not be much
resistance for them to multiply. The PLA was making a "very effective
military showing," Dulles admitted during the 23 April NSC briefing,
including good use of veterans from the Korean War and combat aircraft.
The rebel forces, he concluded, were "pretty well knocked to pieces."
[15]
China's effective showing was only half the story. Exuding little that
was unconventional, the Tibetans guerrillas were consistently fighting
in large concentrations, planning overly complex maneuvers, and failing
to milk the advantage of their superior knowledge of the local terrain.
[16]
Particularly frustrating from the U.S. perspective was the relative
ease with which the PLA was overcoming the serious logistical
challenges of feeding and arming thousands of Chinese infantrymen
pushing across the Tibetan plateau. It took twenty-two trucks of
equipment, fuel, and other essentials, the Pentagon estimated, for
every one truck that reached PLA fighting forces close to the Indian
border. This was an incredible logistical burden, yet it was being
accomplished with virtually no harassment. [17]
The cost to Beijing, reasoned the policy makers in Washington, could be
substantially increased if the supply flow was disrupted. In theory,
this was not all that difficult to plan. There were only three drivable
roads leading to the plateau. The first, which the Dalai Lama had used
during his 1954-1955 trip to China, meandered west from Szechwan
through the hills of Kham to Lhasa. A second road ran from the Tibetan
capital to Xinjiang Province in a wide arc along the Indian frontier.
Completed in October 1957, it had been built in secret and had portions
that dipped into Indian-claimed territory; because traveling this path
constituted an exhaustive trek over an excessive distance, it was not
heavily used. The final road extended from the city of Xining
diagonally across Amdo (officially known as Tsinghai Province) before
plunging south toward Lhasa. Completed in 1955, this single-lane,
graveled byway crossed swamps and long stretches of terrifying terrain,
but it seemed to be a favored route for convoys supplying the PLA in
Tibet. [18]
On 1 May, these roads had been the subject of discussion during a
closed-door session between State Department officials and the Joint
Chiefs of Staff. Questioning whether the United States was doing all it
could, the USAF chief of staff, General Thomas White, broached the
possibility of using airpower to deny ground access from China. That
same month, Thomas S. Gates, the newly appointed deputy secretary of
defense, chaired a classified Pentagon meeting on aid to Tibet. Again,
the possibility of closing the roads with jet strikes was raised but
rejected as too risky, given that the Eisenhower administration had no
intention of going to war with Beijing over Lhasa. [19]
Instead of using jets, a more palatable solution was to have an
indigenous sabotage team parachute in near the target. There were
several options to consider. For one, the CIA already had the Lithang
Khampas waiting patiently at Camp Hale, all of whom were versed in
demolitions. However, these agents would have been ethnically out of
place in the Amdo outback, and in any event, they were being held in
reserve for a mission alongside the NVDA resistance.
A second option involved the considerable resources found in the
Republic of China on Taiwan. For as long as Generalissimo Chiang
Kai-shek had been in Taipei, he had been pleading for a chance to
attack the mainland with airborne forces. By 1956, Chiang was fixated
on a scheme to drop hundreds of paratroopers across the PRC, thereby
sparking multiple guerrilla battles among an oppressed population
supposedly desperate for liberation.
Just as during Chiang's earlier lobbying, his U.S. sponsors listened
with more concern than sympathy. Washington felt that Taipei was
clinging to an unduly optimistic estimate of its appeal inside the PRC,
making the proposed airborne assault all but doomed to failure.
Moreover, it doubted that any other Asian nation took Chiang's dream of
retaking the mainland seriously, and few would be willing to voice
support following a provocative attack by scores of paratroopers. [20]
Still, the United States sensed the generalissimo's growing frustration
and wanted to offer him visible proof that it had not given up hope of
his eventual return. To appease its ally, in October 1957 the United
States approved a plan for the Pentagon to begin unconventional warfare
and airborne training for a select group of 3,000 ROC troops. The
catch: they could not be used against the mainland without U.S.
consent. [21]
Though this was seen as a move in the right direction, Taipei was
hardly satisfied. No sooner had the 3,000 commandos been officially
inaugurated as the 1st Special Forces Group in January 1958 when a
second group -- not supported by U.S. military assistance -- was
unilaterally raised two months later. Chiang, in fact, was insistent on
having a legion of 30,000 paratroopers and did not readily accept
Washington's stipulation about bilateral consent over their use. [22]
On a parallel track, the CIA had never stopped turning out a much more
modest number of airborne agents for Taiwan. Drawn from the various
ethnic groups that had fled to the ROC, some of these agents were
grouped on paper as the Anti-Communist National Salvation Army, a
verbosely titled liberation force that Taipei claimed to be assembling
for its retake of the mainland. [23] Unlike the Special Forces -- whose
use in an airborne blitz was almost certain to meet a U.S. veto -- the
salvation army was fair game for small-scale infiltrations. In
mid-1958, the ROC turned to these agents when it resumed covert
inserts, primarily into the PRC's southern and southeastern provinces.
[24]
Just as with similar efforts in previous years, these latest
infiltrations were less than successful. Between July and December,
dozens of agents were dispatched by parachute, boat, or overland via
Hong Kong, Macao, and (indirectly) Saigon. Most were apparently killed
or captured in a matter of days, or even hours. [25]
All this must have frustrated Generalissimo Chiang, especially given
the mounting evidence of genuine, even spreading, dissent on the
mainland. The majority of this activity was concentrated along the
PRC's periphery, where ethnic minorities were revolting against things
such as economic collectivization and Beijing's campaign to have
Mandarin replace local languages. Besides Tibetans, the disaffected
included Mongolians, Turkic Muslims, and the Hiu. [26]
Beijing viewed the Hiu with particular concern. Unlike the Turkic
minority in Xinjiang, who saw themselves as a separate people who
happened to live within the PRC's borders, the Hiu thought of
themselves as Chinese who happened to be Muslims. They were heavily
represented across the north-central provinces; this included the
eastern half of Amdo, an area of Tibet that was proving to be rich in
exploitable mineral resources. [27]
Dissent among the Hiu was not exactly a new phenomenon. The community
was roughly split: some had easily bent to communist rule, and their
horsemen had even proved instrumental in defeating the 1956 rebellions
in Amdo and Kham; others had actively resisted Beijing, launching four
minor rebellions between 1950 and the summer of 1958. Particularly
problematic from Beijing's perspective was Ma Chen-wu, a relatively
wealthy Sufi mystic who had an enormous local following. Prone to
hyperbole, the Chinese media had dubbed him "more poisonous than a
viper and a scorpion" before he was arrested that October as part of a
concerted campaign to "eliminate the black sheep of Islamic circles."
[28]
Learning of the 1958 rebellion, the ROC had made a concerted effort to
exploit the Hiu dissent by including Muslim guerrillas among the teams
being trained by the CIA. There was no shortage of recruits, as many
members of the more prominent Hiu clans had fled to Taiwan. Even one of
former warlord Ma Pu-feng's many sons was among the novice agents. Tony
Poe, later of the Tibet program, was one of their training officers.
His assessment was not particularly positive: "My teams were primarily
Muslims, but with Han Chinese leaders. We were jumping about five to
six times a day, and exercising in the mountains of western Taiwan. It
was mostly ambush training against convoys and railheads. The idea was
completely unworkable because the Muslims told me they would kill the
Han as soon as they landed."
Poe was not one to mince words, and his critical assessment did little
to endear him to the CIA station chief in Taipei, Ray Cline. A senior
OSS official during World War II, Cline had returned to Harvard for his
doctorate before joining the CIA. Initially an intelligence analyst, he
had been selected as Dulles's private secretary during the director's
1956 world tour. As an apparent reward for a job well done, Cline was
given abbreviated agent training in late 1957 and arrived at the ROC
slot early the following year.
Seeing Cline as a desk-bound academic with little appreciation for the
nuances of unconventional warfare, Poe continued his haranguing of the
Muslim training effort. Word of the friction eventually made it back to
Des FitzGerald -- by then head of the Far East Division -- who
transferred Poe to the Tibet training program in the United States.
[29]
The Hiu agents, meanwhile, remained on Taiwan through the spring of
1959. By that time, events in Tibet were creating unforeseen
opportunities in the minds of the ROC leadership. During late March,
immediately after the Dalai Lama fled Lhasa, Chiang Kai-shek offered
public support to his "fellow countrymen" in Tibet and called for
accelerated aid to mainland revolutionary movements. Other ROC
officials claimed that radios had been supplied that month at the
request of the NVDA, and additional forms of assistance were reportedly
being considered. [30]
In reality, the ROC's connection to the Tibetan resistance was all but
non-existent. Although intelligence agents from Taiwan had been
floating in and out of the refugee community in Kalimpong since at
least 1956, they had been largely ineffective in winning recruits. [31]
And aside from a token $15,000 in refugee assistance provided by Taipei
during May, there was no paramilitary aid extended to, or requested by,
the NVDA. [32]
The problem, recognized U.S. officials, was that the Tibetan revolt was
not so much anticommunist as it was anti-Chinese. The Tibetans were
antagonistic to all Chinese, noted U.S. Ambassador to Taipei Everett
Drumright, regardless of political affiliation. Still, with Chiang's
long-standing request for more action on the mainland given newfound
urgency by the upsurge in Tibetan resistance, key U.S. foreign policy
makers on 25 March had given the green light for exploratory
discussions with the ROC regarding enhanced covert operations against
the PRC. Drumright, who attended the meeting, advocated increased
support to Taipei, provided there were no joint activities in Tibet.
[33]
Drumright's proviso meshed perfectly with conclusions drawn earlier by
the CIA. From the onset of ST CIRCUS, the agency had taken great pains
to exclude the ROC from its Tibetan operations. But there was no
denying a convergence of interests, especially with regard to closing
the logistical corridor across Amdo. Taking exception on this single
occasion, the agency in May made plans for a joint project code-named
ST WHALE.
The agents for ST WHALE would be drawn from the contingent of Hiu
Mulims trained earlier by Tony Poe. Four were selected as a pilot team,
which was scheduled to drop near the Qaidam Basin in the central part
of Amdo -- within easy striking distance of the road to Lhasa. Although
none of the Tibet Task Force's assets would be exposed to Taiwan, there
was a hitch. The ROC's elite aviators from its Special Mission Team,
which had long been handling airborne infiltrations across the
mainland, had taken a beating over the previous year due to better PRC
defenses strung along the coastal provinces. Its converted B-26 bombers
did not have sufficient fuel for an Amdo mission and, in any event, had
been eliminated from the agent-dropping role in March 1959 after taking
losses. The B-26s were supposed to be replaced by the sophisticated P2
V-7 , but crews for this new plane had not yet graduated from the final
stages of U.S. training. This left the venerable B-17, which had
neither the speed nor the range to elude aerial interception and
perform the round- trip from Taiwan to Amdo.
To assist, the CIA arranged to lend ST WHALE some of the aerial
delivery methods it had used for ST BARNUM. Just as with the cargo
drops to the NVDA, the Hiu would jump from the same CAT-piloted
unmarked C-118. Significantly, that plane had recently been modified
with pressurized doors, providing the crew with a quantum leap in
comfort due to its now sealed cabin. As during the Tibet missions, the
aircraft would stage through Kurmitola, putting it within closer range
of Amdo and allowing the aircraft to circumvent the PRC's concentrated
defenses along the coast. [34]
Because the team would be left to its own devices on the ground, it was
important that it bring adequate supplies. The problem was turned over
to the CIA's logistical guru on Okinawa, Jim McElroy. He intended to
use the jumper to-bundle system perfected during the 1957 jumps into
Tibet. This time around the lead parachutist would be connected to
5,000 pounds of supplies lashed to a plywood pallet. Inside the bundle
would be everything from jerked meat to gold ingots and coral beads for
trading.
To study the topography around the target area, the CIA was granted
presidential approval for two U-2 overflights of Tibet and China on 12
and 14 May. [35] Shortly thereafter, the C-118 headed for Kurmitola.
Most of the crew -- Doc Johnson at the controls, Jim Keck as navigator,
Bob Aubrey at the radio, and Bill Lively as flight mechanic -- had
experience on the supply drops the previous fall. In the copilot's seat
was Truman "Barney" Barnes, a World War II ace with five confirmed
Japanese kills in his P-38. In the rear, Richard "Paper Legs" Peterson
was assigned as the kicker. One of two smoke jumpers seconded to the
CIA at the close of 1958, Peterson had been sitting idle at Okinawa
until ordered in April 1959 to give some additional parachute training
to the Hiu team before escorting it to East Pakistan. [36]
Upon arrival at Kurmitola, the crew and agents waited at the austere
base for the order to launch. Fighting off boredom, Barnes asked for
permission to visit his sister-in-law, a Holy Cross sister running an
orphanage in Dacca, but his request was denied by the CIA support team
in the interest of secrecy. The mood was already tense, and it was not
helped when Johnson and Colonel Weltman -- the CIA air operations
officer from Tokyo -- got into an argument over stolen liquor. [37]
As soon as the weather and lunar conditions proved cooperative, the
C-118 was airborne and heading northeast over NEFA, Kham, and the Amdo
steppes. Upon seeing the moon reflected on the surface of Koko Nor --
the largest lake in all of Tibet and China -- the crew turned west for
160 kilometers. The drop zone, which had been identified in overhead
imagery, proved difficult to pinpoint from the cockpit. "There were two
forks in a river," recalls Barnes. "We thought we were at the right one
and gave the signal." [38]
In the cabin, Peterson, Keck, and Lively were all waiting near the
bundle. There had been problems earlier in the flight when they
belatedly realized that the parachute harnesses did not easily fit over
the padded jackets worn by the agents. Three of the Hiu eventually made
the squeeze; the fourth was forced to take his jacket off. "I held on
to his jacket, " said Lively, "and motioned that I would throw it out
the door after he jumped." [39]
There was another concern as well. As Peterson maneuvered the bundle
along the rollers toward the door, one of the packing straps caught on
a piece of steel. With the pallet hopelessly stuck and time pressing,
he pulled out a knife and sliced off the tie. "In the back of my mind,"
he remembers, "I became concerned the bundle would not deploy its chute
properly."
The jumper connected to the pallet, meanwhile, was also having
ill-timed second thoughts. As the supplies roared out of the cabin and
the cord started to play out from his chest, he stood firm. Reaching
forward, Peterson grabbed the reluctant agent by the chute and heaved
him out the door. "I'll never forget the look of raw terror," said
Keck, "in the brief second before he disappeared into the dark."
With no further hesitation, the other three Muslims leaped from the
plane. As promised, Lively stepped forward to release the jacket of the
last agent into the slipstream. The plane then turned south and reached
Kurmitola without incident.
Within a week, the four Hiu made brief radio contact with Taiwan.
Encouraged, the same C-118 crew was summoned the next month for a
repeat performance. This time around, they were to drop only supplies;
McElroy had rigged almost 8,000 pounds on a single pallet.
Heading north from Kurmitola during the full moon phase, Doc Johnson
came upon a ground signal and activated the green light in the cabin,
Like clockwork, the bundle roared out the side, and the C-118 returned
to East Pakistan. Refueling, the crew then turned east and flew for an
hour before one of the engines gave a loud mechanical cough and ground
to a halt. Limping along at reduced altitude, Johnson diverted to
Bangkok for repairs. "If it had happened during the supply drop," said
copilot Barnes, "we would have never made it back across the
Himalayas."
The ST WHALE agents, it seems, were not nearly as lucky. When their
handlers raised them over the radio and asked if they had received the
supplies, the Hiu claimed that no cargo had come. Livid, the CIA case
officers grilled the C-118 crew over the accuracy of the drop. Very
quickly, however, doubt fell on the team itself. Communications
intercepts later indicated that the agents had been captured early on,
and the radio operator doubled. ST WHALE was quietly shelved, and no
additional Hiu saboteurs were dropped inside Amdo. The PLA truck
convoys to the Tibetan front remained on schedule. [40]"
Geir
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- VIRGINIA
Returning from his debriefing of Tom in the late summer of 1958, Frank
Holober was still far from satisfied with the Tibet Task Force's
communications arrangement. Ex filtrating an agent to India had worked
once, but it was hardly a practical solution. A big part of the problem
was rooted in the complexity of the Tibetan language. Consisting of
thirty consonants and five vowels, it had been set down in a Sanskrit
script with a less than perfect arrangement. Several symbols were often
used for virtually identical sounds, resulting in numerous homophones:
different spellings, different meanings, same pronunciation.
Given the poor educational background of the Khampa students,
homophones were just one reason they were having such difficulty
composing coherent radio messages. To help overcome this, the CIA's
instructors on Saipan had developed a telecode booklet listing common
Tibetan words and phrases, each transliterated into the Roman alphabet
and assigned a five-digit number group. For words that did not exist in
Tibetan -- like "bazooka " -- English was used. All that remained was
for the Khampa radiomen to encrypt the number groups with a one-time
pad and transmit.
Although the telecode booklet was a good start, problems persisted. Not
knowing how much radio traffic it would receive, the CIA had included
only the most basic vocabulary. When they needed to express words not
contained in the book -- which was often -- the agents usually picked
the wrong spelling.
Each time one of the resultant garbled messages was received at the
agency's communications facility on Okinawa and relayed to Washington,
Holober was faced with the frustrating process of deciphering its
meaning. In need of a native speaker to interpret on a phonetic basis,
he frequently solicited assistance from the venerable Geshe Wangyal.
"Geshe-la would take a train from New Jersey and stay at a safe house
near the Zebra Restaurant off Wisconsin Avenue," said one CIA officer,
using the monk's nickname. "It was stocked with beer, which he would
drink to 'ward off colds.'" But even with Geshe Wangyal's linguistic
skills, second-guessing the Khampa messages was a trying art. Remembers
the same officer: "He would study the messages and frown in
concentration: 'I think the boys are saying. ...'" [1]
Looking ahead, Holober recognized that one way to reduce such problems
in the future would be to have a telecode list with more words. To
accomplish this, both he and Geshe Wangyal patiently expanded the
booklet over the course of 1958. By fall, it was starting to
approximate a full-fledged book. [2]
That same autumn, Holober's task force was augmented by a pair of
officers. One of them, Thomas Fosmire, was a twenty-eight-year-old
former sergeant in the 82nd Airborne Division who had made his CIA
debut launching sabotage and agent teams from small boats during the
Korean War. Although this maritime effort was successful when it came
to lightning raids, Fosmire soon wrote off attempts at longer-term
infiltrations. "Getting an agent into a closed society was hard
enough," he said, "but sometimes it was as simple as them tracking the
footprints in the snow coming off the beach." [3]
Following the Korean armistice, Fosmire served in Thailand as an
adviser to the Thai border police at four different training camps
stretched across the kingdom. The last of these was Hua Hin, home of
the elite border police paratroopers. Following a 1957 army-led coup,
however, the police paratroopers were blacklisted by the coup leaders
and confined to base. Along with his troops, Fosmire idly counted the
weeks.
Not until January 1958 did the situation begin to change. That month,
the paratroopers requested permission to send a contingent to the
Philippines to train as an air-sea recovery team. Given the unit's
intended humanitarian mandate, the proposal was approved. Escorting the
unit as case officer was Fosmire.
The interlude did not last long. One month after arriving in the
Philippines, Fosmire got an emergency call to act as a kicker during a
covert airdrop in neighboring Indonesia. Continuing on with the
Indonesia assignment, he was secretly posted to the island of Sulawesi,
where he advised antigovernment rebels through late spring.
When the Indonesia operation was forced to close prematurely -- in
large part because a CAT pilot had been shot down and captured --
Fosmire was at a professional low. Emotionally tied to the Indonesian
rebels, he desperately wanted to assist them in their hour of need.
Headquarters was committed to divorcing itself from the effort,
however, and instead sidelined him with a temporary job in Saipan as
the escort officer for a Filipino counterinsurgency team in training.
[4]
By the late summer of 1958, Fosmire was back in Washington and landed
the slot on Holober's task force. For the first few weeks, he shuttled
around the capital to elicit help in refining the Tibetan radio code.
Particularly helpful was a female OSS veteran renowned in the
intelligence community for her innovative approach to encryption. "I
scribbled notes as she spoke," recalls Fosmire, "trying to pretend I
understood what she was saying."
Not long after, the task force received a visit from the CIA's Far East
Division chief, Desmond FitzGerald. Though new to the post, FitzGerald
was not unfamiliar with Asia. A Harvard-trained Wall Street lawyer
before World War II, he had served as liaison officer to a Nationalist
Chinese battalion in the steamy jungles of Burma between 1943 and 1945.
Though sometimes prone to offensive elitism commensurate with his
Boston upbringing and Ivy League education, he had relished the
hardships of his Burma combat experience and had come to appreciate the
abilities of Asian allies when they were properly supplied and led.
FitzGerald returned to Wall Street after the war, but a pronounced
idealistic streak led him to dabble in politics while investigating
corruption in New York's official circles. Though he had just purchased
a new brownstone and seemed ready to settle in New York City, a phone
call from another former lawyer, Frank Wisner, changed his mind. An OSS
veteran from the European theater, Wisner had been mandated in 1948 to
run a small covert action agency innocently titled the Office of Policy
Coordination (OPC). Wisner intended the OPC to take an activist role in
confronting communist subversion, and he wanted FitzGerald on his team.
[5]
Enthusiastic, FitzGerald readily agreed and was soon named executive
officer in the OPC's Far East Division. By that time, the Korean War
had started, and Wisner was groping for ways to divert Beijing's
attention from the Korean peninsula. OPC's Hong Kong chief suggested
harnessing the thousands of Nationalist Chinese troops that had been
pushed across the Burmese border during the Chinese civil war. He
believed that if properly supplied, this Kuomintang legion could be
redirected against the PRC's southern underbelly.
Hearing of this scheme, FitzGerald was smitten. Sickened by tales of
Chinese communist excesses, he saw merit in taking on the PRC by
fomenting guerrilla uprisings. The idea also matched his somewhat
romantic, British-style approach of co-opting locals -- such as the
Gurkhas from Nepal -- as allies. Moreover, his own experiences in Burma
left him with an appreciation for unconventional Chinese operations in
that sector. [6]
With FitzGerald's strong hand, the Burma operation kicked off in
February 1951. But despite great expectations and generous CIA supply
drops through spring, the project proved an embarrassing failure. Try
as they might, each Nationalist foray into Yunnan Province was
immediately repelled by PLA reinforcements. Unable to keep revelations
about U.S. logistical support out of the press, Washington had no
choice but to pull the plug.
Although the Burma operation accomplished little, FitzGerald's career
hardly suffered -- quite the opposite. Forgiving superiors saw fit to
approve of his tenacity and drive, regardless of the results. In 1952,
with the OPC having been absorbed into the CIA mainstream, he retained
his position as deputy of the Far East Division.
Despite his significant influence within the division (he was acting
chief for extended periods), FitzGerald yearned to make a mark in the
field. He got his wish in 1954 when he was assigned as head of the
agency's China Base, located within the U.S. naval compound in Japan's
port of Yokosuka. Unfortunately for FitzGerald, China Base was a poor
vehicle for recognition. As the designated mechanism to coordinate the
CIA's regionwide efforts to penetrate and destabilize the PRC, the base
was mandated to conduct projects in any number of Asian nations along
China's periphery. But other station chiefs did not relish the idea of
an outside mission running operations on their turf. Worse, many of
China Base's agent sources were exposed as con artists and frauds.
After a scathing internal CIA review, China Base closed its doors in
the summer of 1956. [7]
Although FitzGerald did not deserve full blame for the failings of
China Base -- he had inherited an ongoing operation -- its funeral
occurred on his watch. Inevitably, FitzGerald had his share of
detractors. "Des was a dilettante," said fellow Far East hand James
Lilley, "who plucked out good things to serve his own purpose."
However, he also had a strong friend and mentor in former OPC chief and
now top CIA operations officer Frank Wisner. [8]
Under Wisner's wing, FitzGerald was next assigned as head of the
agency's Psychological and Paramilitary Operations Staff. Though an
impressive title, this was actually a hollow desk slot. Not until
mid-1958, following a shake-up in the aftermath of the Indonesian
debacle, did he get word that he was taking over the Far East Division.
At the time of FitzGerald's promotion, it would have been hard not to
focus on the revolt in Tibet. In many ways, the two were a perfect
match. After years of frustrating attempts to hobble the PRC from
within, FitzGerald had a verifiable case of active and ongoing
resistance. And for a man with a romantic sense of chivalry, the rugged
Khampas delivered in spades. He soon came to identify with the Tibet
project more than with any other agency operation in the Far East.
"FitzGerald personally came down to the office," remembers Tom Fosmire.
"He told us, 'We're going to do it."' [9]
With this cryptic statement, FitzGerald was giving final authority to
proceed with training for the second Tibetan contingent. This time,
however, it was decided to offer instruction at a location more similar
to their home environment than the tropical climes of Saipan. The
closest elevation to Tibet in the continental United States is in the
Rocky Mountains of central Colorado. That same state hosts the
country's highest incorporated city, Leadville, at 3,162 meters (10,430
feet). Once bloated with 40,000 residents during the silver boom of the
late nineteenth century, Leadville's population in 1958 barely exceeded
4,000. While such tranquility held appeal for the CIA, of even greater
interest was the secluded valley thirty-two kilometers to its west.
There, strung along a ten- kilometer stretch of the Eagle River, stood
Camp Hale.
Much like Leadville, Camp Hale was a shadow of its former self.
Activated in 1942, the camp at its peak had 1,022 buildings in support
of 15,000 troops. On the surrounding slopes, the 10th Mountain Division
learned skiing, rock climbing, and cold weather survival skills --
often in temperatures that dipped to thirty degrees below zero. Their
training was put to good use when the division made a daring climb up
Italy's Riva Ridge in February 1945, surprising the Nazis on top. For
the next two months, they pursued the Axis forces across the Alps
before Germany surrendered. [10]
Despite its contribution to the war effort, Hale was destined to be a
peace-time casualty. Nazi prisoners (400 of the most incorrigible
members of Rommel's Afrika Korps had been confined at Hale) were
assigned to dismantle the camp shortly after the war, and they nearly
succeeded. Only a handful of buildings was left standing, and they were
used periodically through the early 1950s to train ski troops. By the
middle of the decade, however, the Pentagon saw little need to maintain
specialist ski formations. The camp -- what was left of it -- was
shuttered and abandoned.
All of this suited the CIA perfectly. In the early fall, the job of
reconnoitering the Hale facilities was given to the task force's second
new officer, John Greaney. A lawyer by education, Greaney had attempted
to prepare himself for the Tibet assignment by perusing the CIA's files
and learning what he could about the mountain kingdom. The agency, he
soon concluded, knew precious little. "I tried to get permission to go
to Austria and speak with Heinrich Harrer," he remembers, referring to
the Dalai Lama's longtime tutor, "but the idea was rejected." [11]
As consolation, Greaney got a plane ticket to Colorado. Armed with the
highest-level government permission, he received excellent cooperation
from the U.S. Army officers at Fort Carson in Colorado Springs, which
retained administrative control over Hale. Unfortunately for the CIA,
the camp's best remaining buildings were within sight of the Denver and
Rio Grande Western Railroad. From a security point of view, there was a
better area further down the valley, but that would entail laying
sewage and water pipes for several kilometers. Since Hale was already
frozen under early snows, construction of the pipes promised to be
slow. The agency, Greaney concluded, would need an alternative site for
the interim.
The task of finding an alternative fell to Tom Fosmire. Shopping around
for an existing facility, he took a trip in September to the CIA's
expansive training base at Camp Peary near Williamsburg, Virginia --
nicknamed "The Farm." He presented the camp personnel with a request
for temporary use of a remote locale within the grounds.
Eyeing Fosmire's youth -- and perceived lack of clout -- the staff
could barely conceal their boredom. Stalking out, he promised to report
their lack of cooperation directly to Des FitzGerald. The threat
worked. "A lanky, enthusiastic young officer caught up with me,"
recalls Fosmire, "and said he had a friend at Fort Eustis that could
scrounge up some spare Quonset huts." Assembled in a desolate, wooded
corner of Peary, the Tibet Task Force soon had its temporary training
site in place.
Task accomplished, Fosmire returned to Washington and was on hand when
the first C-118 supply drop was performed near the Drigu Tso. Crowded
in the Zebra safe house with Geshe Wangyal, he waited patiently for the
monk to make sense of the first radio message following the drop. As
the Mongolian fretted for what seemed an eternity, Fosmire finally
exploded and asked whether they had recovered the supplies or not.
"Yes," he told the relieved case officer, "but they forgot to say
'thank you.'"
Taking leave of the capital, Fosmire next rushed to Kurmitola for the
arrival of the second Tibetan contingent. Like the first group, these
trainees had crossed the border with Gyalo's cook and rendezvoused with
a train bound for Dacca. Also like the first group, they consisted of
Lithang Khampas -- ten, this time -- recruited from the Kalimpong
refugee community. The leader of the ten, Ngawang Phunjung, was a
nephew of Gompo Tashi (as was Walt from the first group). Because the
first two translators -- Norbu and Jentzen -- had quit the program,
Gyalo dispatched his own assistant, Lhamo Tsering, to act in that
capacity. [12]
As the Tibetans filed aboard the C-118, Fosmire recalls his first
impressions. "Two were really just kids," he said. "They all had an
earthy smell of leather and smoke." [13]
The plane was quickly on its way to Okinawa, and the flight was
uneventful, save for the entire native contingent getting airsick. Once
at Kadena, they were hustled aboard a bus with blackened windows and
taken to a three-bedroom safe house within the CIA compound. Simple
food -- stew, potatoes, bread -- had been prearranged on a table. "They
quickly consumed all the bread," remembers Fosmire. "I made a mental
note to order more for the next meal."
As evening approached, the CIA officer gathered his new subjects.
Bubbling with excitement, the Tibetans ended up talking all night. Even
with most of the nuances lost in Lhamo Tsering's spotty translations,
Fosmire was struck by their sincerity and devotion. "They moved you in
their direction," he concluded.
The next morning, all ten students began a battery of medical tests.
Two of the Khampas were found to have tuberculosis and ordered to
remain at the safe house. The remaining eight, plus Lhamo Tsering,
reboarded the C-118 and, several refueling stops later, got off at a
strip inside the confines of The Farm.
By that time, a November dusting had left Peary under a veil of snow.
With the weather to their liking, the Tibetans faced a tough schedule
of class and field work. Fosmire was to personally oversee the cycle.
He would be assisted by a new arrival to the project, William "Billy
the Kid" Smith. The nickname was apropos: the cherubic Smith was fresh
out of the U.S. Army and on his first agency assignment. [14]
Together, Fosmire and Smith began teaching seven days a week. Their
initial focus was on classroom drills, especially map reading.
Additional specialist instructors came to the site as needed. These
included several radio experts, the longest serving of whom was Ray
Stark. Formerly a radio operator on merchant ships running the
dangerous Murmansk gauntlet to the Soviet Union during World War II,
Stark later attended Saint John's College in Maryland before joining
the agency. Although he had served the previous two years in Japan,
this was his first exposure to Asian students. [15]
Fosmire also received help from yet another of the Dalai Lama's older
brothers, Lobsang Samten. A gentle sort, the twenty-five-year-old
Lobsang had already suffered one nervous breakdown. Briefly serving as
lord chamberlain in Lhasa, he had escorted the Dalai Lama to India
during the Buddha Jayanti and decided not to return. Instead, he had
made his way to the United States, and the CIA had arranged for him to
study English at Washington's Georgetown University. When this did not
prove to his liking, the agency periodically drove him down to Peary to
help with translations. "He was never really in the resistance mood,"
said Greaney. "He preferred to come over to my house and play with the
kids."
By chance, Lobsang was at The Farm when another instructor made a guest
appearance. A philosophy major at Stanford University, John "Ken"
Knaus, age thirty-five, had begun government service as a Chinese
linguist for First Army headquarters in southern China during World War
II. When the war drew to a close, he debated either a return to
academia or a career as a diplomat. Hedging his bets, he passed the
Foreign Service exam and then went back to Stanford. He was still there
in 1951, on the verge of earning his doctorate, when the Korean War
broke out arid his army commission was activated. Facing the next two
years in the military -- probably in the Korean theater -- Knaus rushed
to Washington to try to reserve a slot in the Foreign Service until
after his return. In response, a State Department counselor coldly told
him to visit again if he made it back from Korea.
On a whim, Knaus stopped by CIA headquarters on the way to buy his army
uniform. When he revealed that he was a Chinese linguist, the recruiter
listened with piqued interest. Within forty-five minutes, he was hired.
Given his China credentials and academic background, Knaus was put to
work on some of the agency's more cerebral Asian endeavors. Between
1954 and 1956, he was seconded to the U.S. Information Agency as a
China policy officer. In this role, he helped publish in Hong Kong a
small booklet entitled "What Is Communism in China?" Full of cold war
rhetoric, it was intended as a primer for Asian newspaper editors.
By 1958, Knaus was back in the CIA mainstream and tasked with setting
up the China segment offered at the School of International Communism
in Arlington, Virginia. A CIA front, the school trained foreign cadres
about the evils of socialist totalitarianism. He was still serving on
its staff at year's end when the call came to lecture a class of
Tibetans about the Chinese system.
Knaus jotted down some general points for a speech and made his way
down to Peary. Upon seeing the Dalai Lama's own brother -- and
recognizing Lobsang's likely firsthand knowledge of regional events --
he tore up his notes. "What I had to say to them," he later said, "was
about as applicable as the Punic Wars." [16]
Self-deprecation aside, Knaus's visit was a welcome respite from a
curriculum that, by early 1959, had grown more physical as tough
paramilitary training eclipsed classroom activities. To help in the
field, a third paramilitary officer joined Fosmire and Smith in
February. That officer, Anthony "Tony Poe" Poshepny, age thirty-four,
knew his material. A state-ranked college golfer at San Jose before
joining the U.S. Marines, he had received a string of Purple Hearts
from Iwo Jima and other Pacific battles. Leaving the corps after the
war, he came to Washington in 1951 to apply for a job at the Federal
Bureau of Investigation. The bureau's recruiter eyed his combat record
and instead steered him across town to the CIA.
Poe was quickly added to the agency's rolls, and his paramilitary
career over the ensuing seven years mirrored that of Fosmire: small
boats in Korea, police training in Thailand, assisting rebels in
Indonesia. After a daring submarine escape from the Indonesian island
of Sumatra, he had spent the second half of 1958 giving guerrilla
instruction to Chinese Nationalist teams on Taiwan and Saipan. [17]
Poe left the Far East for Peary and was on hand as the Tibetans were
being readied for a series of field exercises. For one of these, the
instructor cadre prevailed on the Peary staff to give permission to use
a secure lake area. Wielding an assortment of British weapons ("The
Tibetans loved the Bren and Lee-Enfield," recalls Fosmire), the
students infiltrated by night and liberally doused the vicinity with
explosive charges, accidentally damaging several boats in the process.
As the camp's fire department rushed to the scene, the Tibetans raced
away in the opposite direction inside a blacked-out van. [18]
By March, the exercises were over, and the training cycle was fast
drawing to a close. Already, spring weather had turned parts of Peary
into a swamp and unleashed hordes of mosquitoes. Work at Camp Hale had
been completed, and the Tibetans warmly welcomed the news that they
would soon be switching to a new, colder locale for what was supposed
to be just a few weeks, according to their original schedule, before
proceeding back to their homeland.
***
Although the Tibetans at Peary did not know it yet, their final days at
Williamsburg coincided with monumental changes in Lhasa as the Tibetan
government and the Chinese overlords maneuvered toward a painful
showdown. The catalyst for this came in January 1959 as the NVDA
reinstilled discipline in its ranks and began gearing up for renewed
operations around the headwaters of the Salween in western Kham. For
the previous month, Gompo Tashi had been lobbying local chieftains and
was pleased with their professed support. Emboldened, he planned twin
strikes on PLA strongholds sitting astride the Chinese-built road
leading to Lhasa. Each assault would involve multiple prongs, including
the participation of 800 horsemen from NVDA headquarters in Yarlung.
Gyalo Thondup had even dispatched two Khampas from India -- one was
Lhamo Tsering's nephew -- with a movie camera to make a propaganda film
of the operation.
In planning such coordinated pincers, Gompo Tashi was expecting far too
much of his guerrilla army. His own forces had no radio, limiting
communications with Yarlung to the occasional message courier. And even
if the Yarlung horsemen were intent on joining the battle, it entailed
an extended winter trek across the heart of the Tibetan plateau.
Perhaps not surprisingly, when Gompo Tashi ultimately launched his
raids, the Yarlung column never materialized. Worse from the NVDA's
perspective, the PLA rushed in reinforcements along the road to both
locales. Although the Chinese absorbed heavy casualties, neither site
fell to the Tibetans. [19]
The NVDA had far better luck with its subsequent recruitment drives in
Kham. Some 7,000 recruits joined its cause, and a personal appeal from
Gompo Tashi to the local governor enabled his insurgents to walk away
with nearly the entire inventory of a government armory. On a roll, 130
guerrillas headed north and laid siege to a PLA outpost near the
headwaters of the Mekong. Fighting raged for a month, and it was only
after Chinese airpower bloodied the rebels in late February that the
NVDA was forced to withdraw and nurse its wounds.
In the immediate aftermath of this last battle, Gompo Tashi huddled
with his lieutenants for a war council. Although the Tibetans had
inflicted more casualties than they had received, this was not
particularly problematic for the PLA, given China's enormous reservoir
of manpower. Anticipating the arrival of major Chinese reinforcements
come spring, the council made the strategic decision to temporarily
abandon Kham and begin shifting the majority of its troops toward
Yarlung.
In Lhasa, meanwhile, the PLA's top representatives were fuming. Not
only was rebel activity on the rise in Kham, but when the Dalai Lama
returned to his summer palace on 5 March (he had been studying in
nearby monasteries since mid-1958 for an exhaustive battery of
religious exams), thousands of Tibetan citizens spontaneously formed a
protective cordon around the Norbulingka. They had taken this measure
because word had leaked that the Chinese were insisting that the Dalai
Lama attend a performance by a visiting dance troupe at their military
compound in Lhasa -- but without his normal contingent of bodyguards.
Convinced that this was a ploy to kidnap their leader, the masses had
formed a human shield around his palace.
For the twenty-three-year-old Dalai Lama, the situation had an air of
the absurd. Rebels were roaming the countryside, the capital was a
tinderbox, and the Chinese were irate over his nonattendance at a
cultural show. Sensing that the end was drawing near, on 12 March he
called for the Nechung oracle to determine whether he should stay in
Lhasa. While in a trance, the medium replied in the affirmative. This
was not exactly the answer the Dalai Lama wanted, so another form of
divination -- a roll of the dice, literally -- was sought. As luck
would have it, the results were the same.
Outside the palace, tempers were growing short. Over the next four
days, the crowds kept their raucous vigil around the Norbulingka while
the Chinese, not humored by the Dalai Lama's procrastination over the
dance troupe invitation, were insisting that he commit to a date. The
oracle was again summoned; apparently of a conservative bent, the
entranced medium would not budge from his earlier ruling.
Not until 17 March, during the third channeling session in a week, did
the oracle buckle. "Leave tonight," was his entranced message. The
dice, too, cooperated, giving identical advice. [20]
The Dalai Lama hardly needed prompting. At nightfall, he stole out of
Lhasa on the back of a pony while disguised as a peasant. With him were
his mother, younger brother, sister, and a coterie of tutors and
counsels. Just prior to this, the lord chamberlain had composed a
message for the Indian consul general broaching the possibility of
exile. He also dispatched a courier to Yarlung with a note for the NVDA
to prepare a reception committee. Although that message had yet to
reach Yarlung, Phala had arranged for a small band of rebel escorts to
wait on the riverbank opposite Lhasa as the Dalai Lama's party crossed
in a yak-skin coracle. Pausing briefly for a final glimpse of the
lights flickering in his capital, the Tibetan leader pressed south.
[21]
Back in Lhasa, neither the Chinese nor the crowds outside the
Norbulingka were yet aware of the Dalai Lama's flight. His departure
proved timely, for within a day after his departure, the citizenry
broke into full-scale rioting. In this they were supported by the
Tibetan army, which had belatedly thrown off its gloves and was
attempting to seize strategic points around the capital. Responding in
kind, the PLA dropped the last vestiges of restraint and on 20 March
started shelling the Norbulingka. Just four days later, the resisters
were in full flight from the city.
***
For the better part of a week, the location of the Dalai Lama and his
escape party was a mystery to the outside world. The first to get a
hint of his fate was the CIA; this came after the lord chamberlain's
message to Yarlung was forwarded by courier on horseback to Tom and Lou
at the NVDA rear base in Lhuntse Dzong. [22] Upon reading this, Tom
took his radio set and, together with a small band of guerrillas,
sprinted to intercept the Dalai Lama near the Chongye valley, thirty
kilometers north of the Drigu Tso. Lou followed in his wake with
another group hauling the bulk of the weapons received during the
second weapons drop.
On 25 March, eight days after he departed Lhasa, the Dalai Lama and his
followers arrived at Chongye and linked up with Tom's advance NVDA
party. While there, the Tibetan leader was enlightened about the CIA
supply drops and the RS-1 radio, which was kept hidden. Discreetly
taking his leave, Tom returned to the radio and keyed a message to
Okinawa. Tibet's god-king, he informed the agency, was alive and well.
***
Geshe Wangyal had been summoned from New Jersey to the capital to help
the CIA stay abreast of the Dalai Lama's movements. As each of Tom's
transmissions arrived via Okinawa, strings of number groups were
carried over to the safe house for the sagely monk to extract meanings
both stated and implied. For the next week, Tom's brief updates were at
the top of Eisenhower's daily Current Intelligence Bulletin. "He was
the best informed person in the world," said CIA officer John Greaney.
By 27 March, Washington time, the U.S. president knew that the Dalai
Lama had already reached the NVDA rear base at Lhuntse Dzong. The
monarch initially intended to wait there and negotiate his return to
Lhasa, just as he had done from Yatung in 1951. But when he turned on
his transistor that morning and heard that Beijing had formally
dissolved the Tibetan government, chances for a temporary in-country
exile began wafting away.
Defiant, the Dalai Lama gathered his entourage inside the village's
hilltop fort. Repudiating the seventeen-point agreement, he cut orders
for the reestablishment of the Tibetan government just disbanded by
China. Though largely hollow, the move lifted spirits. Looking to
celebrate with what means were at hand, Lou promptly unveiled a 57mm
recoilless rifle (from the second airdrop) and fired three rounds into
a nearby cliff. [23]
With his bridges figuratively burned, the Dalai Lama knew that it was
only a matter of time before the PLA closed on his position.
Unfortunately for him, his counselors were offering little coherent
advice. During the hours after the ceremony in the fort, Phala
approached the CIA agents and groped for options, including a request
to have the United States dispatch a plane to Lhuntse Dzong.
Remembering Phala's past indecision, the agents asked that he commit
himself on paper to a single plan before radioing Okinawa.
As it turned out, Phala's hand was forced that very night. Radio
reports indicated that there was heavy fighting in Lhasa, and an NVDA
courier arrived at the camp with news that the PLA was massing for a
push across southern Tibet. Unable to sleep, the lord chamberlain woke
the agents at 2:00 the next morning, 29 March, and asked that they
forward an immediate plea for Indian asylum. Returning to their set,
the agents lit a butter lamp, cranked up the generator, and relayed the
message. "If India refused," Tom summed up, "we were in a bad
position." [24]
It was Saturday night, 28 March, when John Greaney was summoned from a
downtown restaurant to the safe house on Wisconsin Avenue. He waited at
Geshe Wangyal's side as the monk translated the appeal. Realizing the
gravity of this development, Greaney telephoned his boss.
The Dalai Lama's move was not unexpected, and the agency already had an
inkling that India would give its nod. Two days earlier, CIA Director
Dulles had informed the rest of the NSC that Prime Minister Nehru had
privately hinted his support of asylum for the Dalai Lama, but not for
the fleeing armed rebels, for fear of provoking incursions by the PLA.
[25]
At the same time, policy makers in Washington had come to the
conclusion that the Dalai Lama's exile was in the United States'
interest. [26] Given its radio link at the scene, the CIA was the
logical intermediary to facilitate Indian approval. No time was wasted;
at 1:00 in the morning on Sunday, 29 March, a message was sent from
Washington to the CIA's New Delhi station asking that it relay the plea
directly to Nehru.
Back in Tibet, the Dalai Lama and his entourage had not waited for an
answer. Leaving Lhuntse Dzong and riding for a day, they reached a
village just four hours from the Indian frontier. Huddling that night
inside their tent during a torrential downpour, the CIA agents turned
on their radio and learned of New Delhi's official consent via
Washington. [27]
Tom and Lou waited until early the next morning for the rains to
lighten and then made a dash to Phala's tent and passed on the news.
For the first time, they saw the lord chamberlain break into a wide
smile.
The Dalai Lama, though haggard after almost two weeks on the road and
weakened by a bout of dysentery, was visibly elated. Finally granted a
special audience with their leader, the two agents were given a
blessing. With little on hand to give as mementos, the god-king offered
each a single red coral bead and a braided necklace fashioned,
ironically, out of strips of silk salvaged from parachutes from the
second supply drop. [28]
The following day, 31 March, some of the fittest members of the Dalai
Lama's party went forward toward the border. In one of his last acts on
Tibetan soil, the monarch penned a document conveying the rank of
general to Gompo Tashi. The next morning, after bidding farewell to his
NVDA escorts and the CIA radiomen, he and the rest of his eighty-person
entourage worked their way south over the final stretch to India's
lush, steaming Assam lowlands. [29]
Watching their leader depart, Tom and Lou broke out their radio set and
tapped an impassioned update. "The Dalai Lama and his officials arrived
safely at the Indian border," they told their CIA handlers. "You must
help us as soon as possible," they added, "and send us weapons for
30,000 men by airplane. " [30]"
Geir
that I just sent :
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- FOUR RIVERS, SIX RANGES
On any given day for centuries past, the dusty alleys of Lhasa were
crammed with monks, courtesans, pilgrims, and traders. By late 1957,
however, these traditional residents were all but eclipsed by something
new -- the war refugee. As a result of the fierce guerrilla battles
waged over the past two years, more than 10,000 displaced Khampas and
Amdowas had pitched tents in the hills and plains surrounding the
capital; many more had fled their villages for sanctuary in the
countryside. In a vast country with just 3 million people -- and with
the normal population of Lhasa standing at only 10,000 -- this was a
demographic shift of significant proportions. [1]
Lost among these refugees, Lou and Tom looked like just two more
destitute Khampas making their way toward the capital when they
departed Woka in November. This was not too far from the truth: on the
ground for a month, they had spent nearly all the Tibetan and Chinese
coins from their supply bundles. Pausing sixty kilometers east of the
capital, the agents were in for a pleasant surprise. Already awaiting
them was Lou's younger brother, who had received the earlier message
asking for a rendezvous. Better still, he had come with enough Chinese
currency to allow Tom and Lou to buy a tent and pitch it on the
outskirts of the village.
As a Lithang Khampa from a reputable family, Lou's younger brother had
been living within the vast Lhasa household of Lithang's most
accomplished citizen, Gompo Tashi Andrugtsang. The Khampa leader had
also received a message from the agents and arrived less than a week
later with a small band of assistants.
Fifty-two years old, Gompo Tashi was unique among Khampas. Though a
native of Lithang, he hailed from a family of savvy businessmen who had
made a profound mark in Lhasa due to their generous annual donations to
Buddhist causes. Gompo Tashi had followed this example, amassing
considerable wealth as a trader and continuing the family tradition of
religious largesse. From a young age, he also displayed legendary
bravery in confronting the bandit gangs that haunted his district.
Taken together, this put him in a category apart from his peers. Unlike
Kham's conservative hereditary chieftains, Gompo Tashi was far more
worldly (he had made a pilgrimage to India and Nepal in 1942) and could
appreciate the benefits of modernity and the wider implications of
Chinese hegemony. And unlike other successful Kham traders, such as the
Pandatsang family, he was less Machiavellian and more principled when
it came to support for the central government. This gave him a foot in
both camps: his seniority and reputation won respect among the
Khampas, while his generosity guaranteed influence within the Lhasa
power struc0ture.
There was one sore point, however. As his kinsmen were fighting and
dying in Kham, Gompo Tashi rarely strayed far from his comfortable
residence in the capital. He was not part of the fledgling resistance
movement, nor did he field any fighters of his own. Not until December
1956, half a year after his native Lithang was struck by PLA bombers,
did he begin to test the waters of armed dissent. This he did by proxy:
three of his employees were dispatched to Kham, each with a letter
signed by Gompo Tashi urging the disparate guerrilla bands to unite in
a common struggle against the Chinese. [2]
Apart from this move, Gompo Tashi did little for the next year. Things
were complicated by the fact that the Khampas themselves -- despite
China's shoddy treatment -- were not all sour toward Beijing. In a
classic display of clan rivalry, one prominent chieftain from the town
of Bathang visited the capital and lectured his fellow Khampas on the
benefits of cooperation with the Chinese authorities; he later made a
similar pitch to influential monks in Lhasa's biggest monasteries. [3]
Having suffered some of the PLA's worst excesses, Khampas from Gompo
Tashi's Lithang were less inclined to compromise. They assumed that he
shared their anti-Chinese sentiment, and it was through him that they
funneled multiple petitions in early 1957 seeking military assistance
from Lhasa.
Despite the pitched struggle being waged in Kham, Lhasa was not
listening. Instead, residents in the capital were fully preoccupied
with the Dalai Lama's return from India on 1 April. [4] To affirm their
collective support for his leadership, they set about preparing a
special offering in the shape of a solid gold throne encrusted with
gems. Given his past history of donations, Gompo Tashi was selected as
a lead fund-raiser and set out for Kham to solicit contributions.
When the throne was officially presented on 4 July, the celebration was
deemed a rousing success. Though this did little to help the guerrillas
in eastern Tibet, Gompo Tashi's trip to Kham had given him ample
opportunity to discuss resistance activities with his kinsmen. It also
afforded him occasional audiences with Thupten Woyden Phala. A tall and
dignified monk, Phala had long been a confidant of the Dalai Lama. His
official promotion to lord chamberlain -- a combination personal
secretary and head of the household staff -- late the previous year
meant that his access to the monarch was without peer. [5]
Not only was Phala a direct conduit to the highest echelon of power; he
was also known to have little tolerance for the Chinese. An ardent
nationalist, he had been among the most vocal proponents lobbying for
the Dalai Lama to seek exile in 1950. And during the early months of
1957, he had strongly sided with Gyalo and Norbu in trying to keep the
monarch from returning to Tibet.
By the time Lou and Tom were ready to parachute to the banks of the
Brahmaputra, the CIA knew enough about Phala's influence and
nationalist disposition to make him a primary target for the two
agents. After their rendezvous with Gompo Tashi in November, the agents
sought his aid in arranging a meeting with Phala. As that would take
time, the Khampa leader suggested that they wait at a location closer
to Lhasa. Departing shortly thereafter, he left behind two assistants
to help procure supplies.
As suggested, the agents soon moved to the village of Pempo. Twenty-six
kilometers northeast of the capital, Pempo was known for its rich
agriculture and cottage industry that produced glazed pots for the
Lhasa markets. Resuming radio contact from there, Tom was instructed by
the CIA to briefly venture farther north into the hills overlooking the
Damshung airfield. Once there, he befriended some nomads, determined
that the base was rarely used, and returned to Pempo to report his
findings over the RS-1. [6]
By the close of 1957, the pair was again on the move. Continuing their
counterclockwise trek around the capital, they reached the famed
Drepung monastery, where Geshe Wangyal had studied. They stopped there
for less than a week -- during which time they resided inside the
complex disguised as pilgrims -- and then shifted to the northern city
limits of Lhasa near the similarly immense Sera monastery. Pitching a
tent among hundreds of others inhabited by student monks, they
couriered a coded message into the capital requesting a second meeting
with Gompo Tashi.
It did not take long for a response. To avoid possible Chinese
surveillance, the Khampa patriarch agreed to a weekend meeting at a
park inside Lhasa. Bringing along food, they lost themselves among the
throngs of holidaying residents. The agents used the opportunity to
again request help in arranging an audience with Phala, and Gompo Tashi
promised to pursue the matter.
Their persistence eventually paid off. Two months later, Gompo Tashi
sent a messenger to Sera with two sets of monk's robes. The agents were
given instructions to proceed to the north gate of the Norbulingka, the
walled, forty-hectare enclave on the western outskirts of Lhasa that
housed the Dalai lama's summer palace. Waiting at a cottage inside the
gate was Gompo Tashi, who escorted them to Phala's residence.
Sitting in front of the Dalai Lama's confidant, the agents were
immediately peppered with questions about their training. Firing back,
they quizzed the lord chamberlain about what kind of help Lhasa needed
or wanted. They also asked Phala to make an official request for U.S.
assistance.
It would prove to be an impossible sell. Whatever Phala's personal
views on the subject, the Dalai Lama was determined not to provoke
Beijing. This meant restraint from offering the rebels any moral
backing, much less material assistance. A die-hard pacifist, the Dalai
Lama had even opposed the relatively benign Mimang Tsongdu -- "People's
Party" -- an underground ensemble of Lhasa-based laymen, activist
monks, and minor government officials who had been practicing civil
disobedience against the Chinese. Echoing his master, Phala kept his
distance from any resistance movement. "He was completely
noncommittal," recalled Tom. "He also said the Chinese were playing off
the Tibetan noblemen and nobody trusted each other anymore."
As they prepared to leave, the agents suggested that Phala might want
to provide a written message that could be conveyed to Washington. They
also asked to see the Dalai Lama at a future date, noting that his
brother Norbu had suggested this during their training on Saipan. Phala
promised to do his best on both counts.
Neither proved forthcoming. After two months of waiting at Sera without
further contact, it became clear that Phala had gotten cold feet. "The
ClA kept asking for updates, " said Tom, "but there was no news to
give."
Worse for the agents, they had no source of income and were constantly
living off handouts from family members in Lhasa. (While in Saipan, the
CIA had said that it would attempt to smuggle money to them via Phala,
but the lord chamberlain truthfully professed that he had not received
any such funds.)
Hungry and frustrated, the pair finally received permission for a
second meeting with Phala at the Norbulingka in late March 1958. Like
the first encounter, they found the lord chamberlain less than warm; he
remained silent about providing any written or verbal appeals to the
U.S. government. He also rebuffed their second request for a personal
blessing from the Dalai Lama, noting that the monarch was surrounded by
minders, and secrecy could not be assured. As consolation, he offered
some religious relics purportedly from the spiritual leader. [7]
Gompo Tashi, meantime, was growing impatient with Lhasa's waffling. He
was especially concerned when the Chinese authorities announced plans
to perform a census around the capital and expel any Khampas or Amdowas
who had lived there for less than ten years. Although he did not fall
into that category, Gompo Tashi was sufficiently worried to seek advice
from the influential state oracle of the Nechung monastery. This
particular oracle, say Tibetans, was regularly possessed by one of the
more important spirits in their cosmology, and his entranced advice
held immense sway over decisions of the Lhasa government.
During his channeling session with Gompo Tashi, the oracle was
unequivocal. The Khampa leader should leave Lhasa, he said, no later
than the Buddha Jayanti celebrations on the seventh day of the fourth
lunar month. When asked what direction Gompo should take, the oracle
answered south, toward Drigu Tso lake.
With the decision made for him, Gompo Tashi quietly earmarked pack
animals, employees, weapons, and a major slice of his family earnings
for the guerrillas in Kham. He also urged the CIA radiomen to remain in
Lhasa and stay in contact with one of Phala's assistants. But after a
meeting with that assistant who showed no more backbone than his
superior, Tom and Lou elected to join Gompo Tashi in the exodus. [8]
As the date of the Buddha Jayanti approached in mid-April, the Khampa
chieftain finalized his departure plans. Knowing that most of the
city's residents traditionally made a brief pilgrimage to a monastery
across the river from Lhasa on the day after the Buddha Jayanti, he
decided to camouflage his exit among those crowds.
So, too, would the CIA's agents. Dressed as lamas and with their gear
stowed on two mules, they skirted the capital on the prescribed day and
waited south of the river. They were met by a band of Gompo Tashi's
servants bearing extra horses -- but not Gompo Tashi himself -- and
their small caravan headed south. A day later, the Khampa leader
stylishly rendezvoused with them on a British motorcycle, which he
promptly exchanged for a less flashy equestrian mount.
Continuing south, they made good time to the banks of the Brahmaputra
River. They crossed the river on a wooden ferry and then pushed south
in the direction of the Drigu Tso. Unfortunately, Gompo Tashi carried a
poor map and was taking pains to stay clear of major trails in order to
avoid PLA patrols. As a result, when they arrived at a major body of
water and made inquiries with the locals, they found that they had
inadvertently arrived at Lake Yamdrok -- fifty-five kilometers west of
their intended destination.
Pausing for the moment, Gompo Tashi sent a scout party east to
reconnoiter the Drigu Tso. The scouts returned with reports that the
lake was surrounded by flatland and populated by only a handful of
nomads. Satisfied that the oracle had made a good choice, the Khampa
leader dispatched his servants across the plateau with a request that
resistance members of all Tibetan ethnic persuasions congregate at the
Drigu Tso in a month's time. Meanwhile, he took Lou and Tom farther
south toward the Bhutanese border to procure adequate grain supplies
for the upcoming guerrilla rendezvous.
***
Far to the east, Walt could speak firsthand about the state of the
resistance. From the moment he and his two fellow agents landed in
November 1957, they were immersed in the heart of the Kham guerrilla
movement. Due to district rivalries, that movement had never developed
a unified province-wide command structure. Twenty-three Khampa clans,
however, were fighting together under the common title of the Volunteer
Army to Defend Buddhism. By early 1958, this functional name had given
way to a geographic one: Chushi Gangdruk -- "Four Rivers, Six Ranges"
-- a reference to the major rivers (Mekong, Salween, Yangtze, and
Yalung) and mountains that ran across Kham.
In Walt's own band, 500 Chushi Gangdruk rebels were focused on
expelling the Chinese around Lithang. Things started out well enough,
including the unexpected arrival of the final Saipan-trained student,
Dick. After hyperventilating in the rear of the B-17, Dick had been
off-loaded in Dacca and smuggled overland back to Darjeeling. Once
there, Gyalo Thondup had matched him up with another able-bodied Khampa
and sent both on horseback to Tibet via Sikkim.
After making his way to Lithang, Dick presented a letter from Gyalo
pledging imminent support. This was welcome news for Walt; almost from
the moment he had landed, he had been sending multiple radio requests
for weapons and ammunition. Now armed with Gyalo's letter, he generated
considerable excitement among the insurgents and succeeded in
attracting new recruits. [9]
Walt's ethnic kin were not the only ones taking notice of his
recruitment activity. Due to the relatively low altitude and easy
access along the new byways completed in 1956, the PLA had been able to
shift 150,000 soldiers to eastern Tibet by the end of 1957.
Specifically targeted against southern Kham were hordes of Hiu Muslim
cavalrymen, who had already been used to devastating effect against a
sister rebellion on the steppes of Amdo.
In the ensuing mismatch of numbers, the fate of Chushi Gangdruk was a
foregone conclusion. By mid-1958, Walt's servant Thondup, known as
"Dan" while on Saipan, took a bullet to the head. A month later, Sam
fell victim to an ambush. Shortly thereafter, Dick was shot. With three
of the four Saipan students lost, Walt and the remnants of his band had
little choice but to abandon Lithang and begin a fighting withdrawal
toward central Tibet.
Walt was not alone. By the summer of 1958, waves of Khampa refugees and
defeated rebels were heading west toward Lhasa. Of these, some diverted
south to the banks of the Drigu Tso, where on 16 June Gompo Tashi
arrived to oversee the inauguration ceremony for a unified resistance
movement dubbed the National Volunteer Defense Army (NVDA). With 1,500
guerrillas in attendance and Gompo Tashi named titular head by
acclamation, the previous flag of the Chushi Gangdruk (a mythical snow
lion on a blue background) was replaced by a new NVDA standard
featuring crossed Tibetan swords on a yellow field. Tom was on hand to
take photographs of the occasion; the roll of film was then couriered
out to Gyalo in India. [10]
The reason for the name change was more than semantic. Although the
NVDA was overwhelmingly composed of Khampas, Gompo Tashi intentionally
sought to break from the regional overtones of Chushi Gangdruk and
present a name and image that would appeal to all Tibetans.
As this was transpiring, Tom and Lou duly radioed updates back to the
CIA. Much of their reporting consisted of requests for weapons and
ammunition, both of which were in short supply. When none were
forthcoming, Gompo Tashi took matters into his own hands and departed
NVDA headquarters in August to lead a raid against an isolated Chinese
garrison southwest of the capital. There, it was hoped, they could make
off with a haul of armaments at little risk.
In the ensuing series of battles, the NVDA was less than successful.
Word of its first impending attack had apparently been leaked, and the
scout party walked into an ambush. Withdrawing after a three-day fight,
they promptly walked into a second ambush. Continuing on a western
heading, they next attempted to raid an armory of the Tibetan army.
There, the NVDA was exposed to the rude ironies of its nationalist
struggle. Though it might have shared much common ground with the NVDA,
the small Tibetan army, like the central government to which it
answered, remained publicly opposed to the anti-Chinese resistance and
took pains not to assist the resistance in any way. This was done in
part to avoid angering Bejjing, which was already pressuring Lhasa to
take up arms against the insurgents. In part, too, it was due to
lingering ethnic prejudices: the NVDA, like Chushi Gangdruk before it,
could not shake the Khampa brigand stereotype held by many central
Tibetans. This became painfully apparent when Gompo Tashi and his
guerrillas approached the government armory. Anticipating the raid,
Lhasa had secretly ordered the weapons shifted to a nearby monastery.
Eventually learning of the ruse, the NVDA leaned on the local monks but
found their audience to be less than receptive. Only after many days of
cajoling did the religious officials reluctantly open their stores to
the resistance fighters. [11]
***
Back in Washington, updates from their radio operators in Tibet left
the CIA far from satiated. Most of the messages were being sent by Tom;
although he had been the best Morse code student among the Saipan
graduates, his grammatical shortcomings limited most transmissions to
only a few clauses. "It was okay from an operational point of view, "
said Tibet Task Force chief Frank Holober, "but wanting from an
intelligence standpoint." [12]
The agency was particularly reluctant to commit weaponry without a
better understanding of the NVDA and where it was headed. Short of
visiting Tibet, the only way to get this was to fully debrief one of
the agents. For that purpose, word was sent back for Tom to make his
way to India. Taking loan of a horse, the agent traveled for ten days
toward the Sikkimese frontier, slipped past a PLA border ambush, and
made his way to Darjeeling. [13]
Once there, Tom lost little time locating Gyalo and his personal
assistant, Lhamo Tsering. Six years Gyalo's senior, Lhamo was Gyalo's
distant relative from Amdo. Lhamo had fought in a Chinese youth militia
unit against the Japanese, and shortly after returning to Amdo, Gyalo's
mother had tasked him with chaperoning her son while the latter was
studying in Nanking. Save for Gyalo's time on Taiwan and in the United
States, the two had not been separated since. [14]
To assist Tom during the debriefing, Lhamo Tsering accompanied the Kham
agent down to Calcutta. There they secretly rendezvoused with CIA
officer John Hoskins, who had the pair lie in the back of his car as he
shuttled them to a safe house. Inside was Frank Holober, who had
prepared a list of detailed questions. Although Lhamo spoke passable
English, he and Holober found that they shared more linguistic common
ground using Mandarin. Over the ensuing week, the CIA officer
translated questions into Chinese for Lhamo, who would pose them to Tom
during the afternoon and present his answers the following morning.
Holober also used the opportunity to meet Gyalo. Much like the earlier
assessment by Hoskins, Holober was not overly impressed by the Dalai
Lama's brother. "I did the briefing," he recalls, "and Gyalo did a lot
of nodding." [15]
There were other concerns as well. By that time, the team in Lithang
had ceased radio transmissions and been declared missing. The apparent
loss of its agents came at a critical juncture, as the CIA did not wish
a repeat of the 1956 Hungarian rebellion, when ill-prepared activists
proved easy fodder for Soviet cannons. "We wanted to create cells like
the Communist Party," said Holober, "not a full-blown resistance that
would be snuffed." [16]
But it was too late for that. Based on Tom's observations, the
resistance was up and running and would continue with or without CIA
support. Despite the Hungarian precedent, the agency concluded that the
Tibetan rebels were one of the best things it had going behind
communist lines. Accordingly, a decision was made in the late summer of
1958 to proceed with limited material support. The agency also decided
in principle to train a second group of Tibetans. Unlike the first
contingent -- which was theoretically to act as eyes and ears -- the
second wave would be coached as guerrilla instructors to help the
resistance multiply exponentially.
***
To provide material assistance to the NVDA, aerial methods were the
agency's only viable option. Just as during the ST BARNUM insertions
the previous year, range dictated that the plane stage from East
Pakistan, and the same meteorological considerations called for the
supply drop to coincide with the clear skies and full moon of
mid-October.
There would also be significant differences from the earlier missions.
Although the stateless Poles had performed exceptionally well during
the first two Tibetan flights, they had suffered fatalities during a
subsequent CIA operation in Indonesia and lobbied to permanently leave
Asia for their previous posting in Germany.
With Ostiary out of the running -- and Taiwan's airmen still
politically unacceptable -- the officers at the Far East Division's air
branch saw little choice but to propose the use of Americans. The idea
held more risk than ever. During the Indonesia operation in May, a CAT
pilot had been downed and captured -- a fiasco that helped end the
agency's entire paramilitary operation in that country. The following
month, a USAF C-118 had been brought down by MiG fighters along the
Soviet border during an attempted reconnaissance flight, heaping yet
more egg on Washington's face.
Despite these embarrassments, the ST BARNUM planners persisted and won
permission to use a CAT aircrew for Tibet. Given the depth of
multiengine experience in the CAT ranks, this opened up the possibility
of flying a larger plane with more cargo capability than the B-17.
During the Indonesian operation, CAT had used its C-54 Skymaster, the
military version of the four-engine DC-4. Opting for something even
bigger, ST BARNUM eyed the sanitized USAF C-118 that had been handling
covert flights out of Okinawa. [17]
Once this choice was approved, the aircraft was outfitted with a set of
rollers curving out its oversized rear door. This allowed for a much
larger bundle than could be squeezed through the joe hole of the B-17.
This also meant that the mission would need a larger complement of
crewmen to disgorge the load over the drop zone. Searching for suitable
candidates, the CIA soon discovered that kickers had become a rare
commodity in Asia. Ever since CAT had stopped flying drops over the
Chinese mainland in late 1952, nearly all the smoke jumpers on the
agency's rolls had been sent packing. The situation had grown so
desperate that several case officers had been pressed into service as
cargo handlers during a series of covert airdrops over Indonesia in
early 1958.
With time pressing, the CIA returned in the fall of 1958 to the smoke
jumper community. The September rains had brought an abrupt end to the
summer fire season in the western United States, and many were readily
available. From Washington, Gar Thorsrud asked his brother -- himself a
smoke jumper in Missoula, Montana -- to contact three colleagues for
the sensitive assignment. In short order, Roland "Andy" Andersen,
William Demmons, and Ray Schenck were in the nation's capital for a
security check and briefing. "It was perfect," remembers Anderson,
"because we could do Asian operations during the winter and spring,
then be home for smoke jumping in the summer." [18]
As the three kickers made their way to Okinawa, the head of the CIA air
operations office in Tokyo, Colonel William Weltman, was informed of
the selection of a CAT aircrew. Relying heavily on Taiwan-based pilots
he knew from social circles, CAT vice president Robert Rousselot had
finalized picks for his so-called First Team. As pilot and copilot he
named Merrill "Doc" Johnson and William Welk. Both these aviators had
been among a small group of CAT aviators who had performed with
distinction during deep mainland penetrations in 1952. Chosen as flight
engineer was Bill Lively, the navigator slot went to James Keck, and
the radioman was Bob Aubrey.
Waiting at Okinawa until the full moon phase in mid-October, Weltman
personally entered the cockpit to ferry the C-118 down to Clark Air
Base in the Philippines. Pausing long enough for Weltman to make a
symbolic transfer to Doc Johnson -- and for the kickers to get a bad
sunburn scraping off all remaining markings on the plane -- the First
Team then proceeded toward East Pakistan. [19]
As had been the case during the B-17 flights, the First Team found that
Kurmitola airfield held few amenities. "We spent the night on cots in
an open hangar," recalls Thorsrud, who had arrived from Washington to
oversee the mission. Several crew members sighted snakes in the
rafters, and local guards repeated apocryphal tales of a man-eating
tiger outside the base perimeter.
CAT-piloted C-118 at Kurmitola, East Pakistan. (Courtesy Gar Thorsrud)
All of this paled next to the dangers associated with the C-118 itself.
Because it was not designed to open inward during flight, the rear door
was temporarily removed at Kurmitola. The plane, as a result, would be
flying unpressurized for the duration of the mission. Not only did this
mean an uncomfortably cold cock-pit and cabin, but the crew would need
to use oxygen masks to keep from passing out in the thin air over the
Tibetan plateau. Worse, the C-118's four engines barely had enough
power to clear the Himalayas; if one engine shut down en route, they
had little hope of getting home.
The challenges continued to mount once they got airborne the next
morning. Following the same route taken during the first Ostiary
mission, navigator Keck was shocked by the poor World War II-era maps
they had been given. "Once over the Himalayas," he said, "the charts
just showed big sections of brown and tan with no data." [20]
To compensate, Keck climbed into the plane's glass dome atop the
fuselage to take a celestial reading. While he was there, disaster
nearly struck. To facilitate movement, he and the rest of the crew had
been outfitted with walk-around oxygen bottles. As he ascended into the
dome, however, the bottle's three-meter tube was accidentally pinched.
Unaware of the blockage and slowly lapsing into unconsciousness, Keck
nonchalantly told the cockpit that he was going to take a nap. Only
through the fast action of the flight engineer was the tube unkinked
and Keck's senses restored. [21]
Once the plane approached the Drigu Tso drop zone, Keck, Aubrey, and
Lively all converged in the cabin to offer assistance manhandling the
loads down the rollers. As instructed by Lou (Tom was still en route
from India), local guerrillas had lit a huge flaming cross on the
ground. This had been done with a unique Tibetan twist: instead of wood
-- a precious commodity at high altitudes -- the signal had been
constructed from more plentiful horse and yak dung.
Sighting the fire, Johnson activated a green light in the cabin. As the
plane nosed upward, this was the cue for the kickers to remove the
final stops on the pallets and give them a gravity-assisted push. With
static lines connected to a beam fitted to the ceiling, the supplies
thundered down the conveyor and out the door. Olive canopies blossomed
in the plane's wake, and the bundles floated toward the waiting
guerrillas.
Converging on the pallets, the Tibetans broke them open to find two
hundred .303 Lee-Enfield rifles and ammunition. A bolt-action rifle
that had seen heavy action during World War I, the vintage Lee-Enfield
had two advantages. First, it had been a staple of the Tibetan army
since 1914. It could therefore be assumed that the Tibetans had
mastered its use and maintenance. Second, it was of British origin and
had been liberally supplied to regional armies such as those of India
and Pakistan; the United States, as a result, was afforded plausible
deniability.
Although the guerrillas had no qualms about the choice of weapon, they
did question the quantities provided. Almost immediately, they leaned
on Tom (who had just completed his return trek from India) to radio an
appeal for a second drop. [22]
Elsewhere in the field, not all was going well for the NVDA. After
strong-arming weapons from the monastery in August, Gompo Tashi and his
guerrillas now wielded a mixed selection of mortars, machine guns, and
rifles. Working their way clockwise around Lhasa, they eventually
approached the PLA's Damshung airfield north of the capital. Despite a
string of tactical wins along the way -- a truck ambushed here, an
outpost overrun there -- the Khampa tactics were generally not working.
Part of this was due to the fact that Gompo Tashi was maneuvering his
rebels by the hundreds, nearly all of them on horseback. Although it
might have been possible to conceal these numbers in the conifer
forests of southern Kham, it was not feasible in the barren hills of
central Tibet.
The Chinese, as a result, almost always knew where the NVDA was and
when it would be coming. Theoretically, the guerrillas should have been
able to set the pace of battle and dictate their targets; instead, they
were almost always on the run and being corralled by their opponents in
a very conventional manner. Bringing spotter planes and field artillery
into play, the PLA outnumbered and outgunned the main rebel
concentration as it neared Damshung. Peppered with shrapnel, a wounded
Gompo Tashi soon ordered a retreat to the east.
Part of the NVDA's problem was the collective cold shoulder offered by
the local population. As Mao Tse-tung had preached during the Chinese
civil war, revolutionary guerrillas were akin to fish thriving in the
water of the community. Without water, went the metaphor, the fish
could not survive. Given Tibet's sparse population, the Khampa
guerrillas rarely encountered such figurative water. And when they did,
central Tibetans -- influenced by antirebel proclamations from Lhasa
and generations of prejudice -- saw them as less than brothers in arms.
[23]
Facing these obstacles, Gompo Tashi in September ordered his task force
on a long march out of central Tibet. By October, just as the first
supply drop was landing at Drigu Tso, they arrived at the western edge
of Kham. Cold and hungry after their trek through knee-deep snow, they
hoped for a more friendly reception among their kin. Unfortunately for
the NVDA, some of their number chose the opportunity to split from the
cause and revert to banditry. Realizing that this would undercut any
attempt at winning the locals' hearts and minds, Gompo Tashi had no
choice but to put the anti-Chinese struggle on hold and instead spend
time bringing his rogue members to justice. [24]
***
In southern Tibet, the NVDA was also in a state of flux. The guerrillas
soon determined why so few people lived around the Drigu Tso: the winds
coming off the lake were frigid during winter, and the soil did not
support any agriculture. Looking for a more hospitable venue, the
headquarters of the resistance shifted north to the more fertile
Yarlung valley near the Brahmaputra. Lou, meanwhile, ventured with a
rebel contingent to the village of Lhagyari, forty kilometers east of
Yarlung. Tom briefly joined him there after his return from India, but
the two soon relocated far south to an NVDA rear base at the village of
Lhuntse Dzong, just forty-five kilometers from the Indian border.
While at Lhuntse Dzong, the pair got word in November that a second
supply drop was in the works. Though otherwise inhospitable, the barren
plains near Drigu Tso had worked perfectly as a drop zone the first
time. Looking to repeat this success, the two agents agreed to take a
reception committee to that area to greet the second flight. [25]
For this ST BARNUM reprise, the same C-118 and crew departed Kurmitola
on an identical flight path. Without complications, olive-drab
parachutes mushroomed in the plane's wake, and the supplies floated
down to the waiting rebels.
NVDA areas of operation, 1958-1959
With the October and November drops, the guerrillas had now been
provided with 18,000 pounds of weapons, ammunition, and communications
gear. Although this should have been reason for cheer, their attention
was instead fixated on a single yellow parachute used during the
November shipment. Quickly appropriated by Tom and Lou, the bundle
attached to this chute contained additional radios and a satchel of
300,000 Indian rupees to pay message couriers. Always game for a good
conspiracy, the Tibetan rebels began bickering that the radio operators
had actually received a small fortune in gold ingots -- hence the color
of the chute -- and were not willing to share their bounty. [26]
Such destructive sniping was compounded by the arrival in December of
Walt and a handful of stragglers from Lithang. He had been out of radio
contact for half a year, and his sudden appearance was an intelligence
windfall for the CIA. Walt, however, did not see it that way and had
Tom relay his intense frustration over the radio. Infuriated with
Washington's refusal to conduct a weapons drop for Lithang, the fiery
Khampa reported that the resistance in that locale was crushed and his
three Saipan-trained colleagues missing (only Dan was a known fatality;
the fate of the other two was still unconfirmed at the time). "The CIA
asked if he would return to Kham to verify their fate," recalls his
brother, "but he said there was no hope and refused."
It was on that sour note -- with Walt sulking at Lhuntse Dzong and
Gompo Tashi wrestling with the NVDA's self-inflicted wounds -- that
1958 drew to an inauspicious close."
Geir
book about the USA role in Tibet :
***
***
***
***
NVDA areas of operation, 1958-1959
With the October and November drops, the guerrillas had now been
Geir
Geir a écrit :
Kalachakra steamroller rolling over all obstacles that arise. An iron
fist in a velvet glove is what Kalachakra is ! Destroy all the smut
that arose from the Nobel Piece Prize and all the nonsense that arose
with that among the idiotic peoiple in the world that just want to
follow blindly like sheep in a herd instinct that is meaningless,
mindless and as opposed to Buddhism as can be because Buddha said never
to obey blindly without thinking for oneself, is what is going to
happpen because this is real hard stuff comoing down with this thread
and pure OBAL sources. I want all to read this and not miss anything.
Anything that'll not be noted will be held against people. Anything
that is contradicted and has to be repeated because people won't have
read it will be held against people. People should read and not come
back later and claim they hadn't read it all. No better sources than
this on Tibet will ever come to any ng on the web. This is a unique
opportunity to rid all error from the web concerning Tibet. Ignorants
that don't read it are just useless and meritless.
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- DUMRA
The unmarked C-118 materialized out of the western skies and landed at
Peterson Field well after nightfall. Though bustling by day- -- it
doubled as both an air force base and the municipal airport for
Colorado Springs -- Peterson was sufficiently quiet after hours to
allow for a discreet transfer of twenty Tibetans from their plane to a
bus with covered windows. Two hundred eight kilometers later, they were
at the gates of Camp Hale.
Stepping out in the predawn chill, the Tibetans were at home. Compared
with the heat of East Pakistan and Okinawa, Hale was refreshingly
brisk. Even in late May, the temperature dipped below freezing at
night, and snow capped the surrounding mountains. "It looked and felt
like Tibet," remarked interpreter Tashi Choedak. [1]
On hand to greet the new arrivals were CIA paramilitary instructors
Fosmire, Poe, and Smith. Also present were the six Lithang Khampas who
had shifted from Peary to Hale less than two weeks earlier. Conspicuous
by his absence was the interpreter for the Lithang group, Lhamo
Tsering, who -- in order to maintain compartmentalization in the
clandestine project -- had been quietly whisked away to Peterson
without a farewell.
The six Khampa holdovers were combined with the seventeen new students,
and a training cycle for all twenty-three began the following day. Each
Tibetan was given an American first name to ease identification.
American names were also assigned to each of the three young
translators: Tashi Choedak now went by "Mark"; Tamding Tsephel, a
former medical student and the nephew of Gompo Tashi, became "Bill";
and the short, expressive Pema Wangdu was dubbed "Pete."
The interpreting skills of the three immediately came into play during
an opening primer in radio operations. Ray Stark, one of two agency
communications instructors assigned to Hale, discovered the Tibetans to
be surprisingly astute. "Maybe it was the memorization and meditation
associated with their Buddhist training," he later speculated. "They
picked up codes fast and were a lot sharper than most people gave them
credit." [2]
After two weeks, the seven best students from among the newcomers
continued with an advanced radio class. For the remainder, intensive
physical conditioning began. Given their mountain upbringing, the
Tibetans already had tremendous lower body strength ("They could walk
uphill all day," noted Tony Poe), but their upper body strength lagged
far behind. Because they would need strong arms and chests for things
like pulling shroud lines to maneuver their parachutes, CIA officer
Jack Wall was charged with correcting this physical shortcoming.
A former smoke jumper, Wall had been working on CIA paramilitary
operations in Asia since the Korean War. Initiating a comprehensive
exercise and self-defense regimen for the Tibetans, he and the other
instructors found them to be a competitive bunch. During a class on
pistol disarming techniques, for example, the star student from the
Peary contingent -- a spirited Khampa named "Donald" -- took on a newly
arrived Amdowa. "Donald had a certain devilment in his eyes," recalls
lead instructor Fosmire, "and he began striking his opponent with the
pistol butt and cut his forehead." Fosmire promptly cut the class to
let tempers settle.
Weaponry training followed. Significantly, the CIA had decided that the
element of plausible deniability was now less important than improved
firepower. This meant that students could now be provided with the
U.S.-made MI Garand in lieu of the earlier British selection.
Officially phased out of U.S. arsenals just two years earlier, the
self-loading Garand was a quantum leap in sophistication over the
bolt-operated Lee-Enfield. Honing their skills on a makeshift range,
all the Tibetans soon became proficient shooters.
As on Saipan, the CIA officers found their trainees to be an endearing
study in extremes. "They really enjoyed blowing things up during
demolition class," said radio expert Stark, "but when they caught a fly
in their mess hall, they would hold it in their cupped palms and let it
loose outside"' [3]
As on Saipan, too, the CIA instructors found that they were learning
from the Tibetans as much as they were imparting. This became
especially apparent when the students were taken into the snowy hills
and divided into two teams: one tasked with setting up an intercepting
ambush, the second group with attempting to evade. Ditching snowshoes
provided by the Americans, the Tibetans instinctively marched where the
sun had baked a crust on the snow. In the most powdery conditions, they
used a traditional trail-breaking method whereby scouts at the head of
the column would bind their legs with rags and broken branches. As they
threw themselves forward, they would compress a narrow path in the snow
for the others to follow. Conforming to the lay of the land, this
serpentine trail was all but impossible to spot except for direct
overhead observation. [4]
Tom Fosmire, the first training chief at Camp Hale
Particularly remarkable about the Tibetans was their lack of fear of
heights. "They would nonchalantly step off the sides of a ravine with
barely a thought, " said Stark. On one occasion when a Khampa stumbled
and came within a step of falling to his death, his countrymen reacted
not with horror but with shrieks of laughter over the embarrassing faux
pas. [5]
Such lighthearted innocence remained the hallmark of the Tibetans
through-out the weeks of tough instruction. Not once did they register
anger; indeed, the students considered it humorous when the Americans
displayed emotion. Continued Stark, "They would intentionally leave
doors open to get a rise out of me. I told them that when I visited
them in a free Tibet, I was going to rip their tent flaps off. They
thought this was hysterical."
This rapport made an otherwise hardship assignment easier. "We were
completely self-contained at Hale to maintain secrecy," explained
Fosmire. Besides running a full schedule of classes, the handful of
instructors took turns cooking, cleaning clothes, and even driving the
buses and snowplows. Only Sunday afternoons were designated as leisure
time.
Theoretically, the CIA contingent could turn to Hale's parent base --
Fort Carson in Colorado Springs -- for support. To help with initial
liaison between the training team and top brass in Carson, two U.S.
Army colonels on long-term assignment to the CIA were dispatched to
Colorado. The first, Gilbert Layton, had served in armored
reconnaissance squadrons through 1946, then was sent on a string of
agency assignments to places like Saipan and Turkey. The second, Gil
Strickler, had been a logistician for General George Patton in World
War II.
As it turned out, Layton and Strickler were barely needed. Soon after
settling into Hale, the CIA paramilitary instructors took it upon
themselves to smuggle in Brigadier General Richard Risden, the
commandant from Carson, and offer him an impromptu briefing on their
project. Reveling in the cloak-and-dagger nature of the program, Risden
was smitten. Said Fosmire, "After that, he gave us anything we wanted."
Overview of Camp Hale. (Courtesy Roger MacCarthy)
One of the immediate results of the general's largesse was the
provision of war mules. During World War II, Carson had been the
processing center for hundreds of wild mules that were broken and
trained in hauling field artillery. At the end of 1956, however, these
beasts of burden were officially replaced by helicopters. Of the
handful still left at the Carson stables, four were shipped to the CIA
team at Hale to see if they could be adapted to carry arms for the
guerrilla trainees.
A C-I30 at Kadena Air Base, Okinawa, having its USAF tail markings
removed prior
to an overflight of Tibet
Placed in charge of the resurrected mule program was Tony Poe. Very
quickly, he found them to be ornery subjects. "They had been idle for
years," he recalls, "and would bite and kick the Americans when we
tried to tame them." By contrast, the Tibetans had no such trouble.
"The Khampas talked softly to them for hours as if they were human,"
said Poe. "They had them domesticated in no time."
As training progressed through summer, guest instructors made an
occasional appearance. Ken Knaus offered lectures on international
relations and psychological warfare themes. Geshe Wangyal, who was
ailing and needed bottled oxygen in Hale's thin air, coached the
students in history and linguistics. He also gave the camp a native
title: Dumra, Tibetan for "garden." (Hale was called "The Ranch" by the
CIA trainers, a play on Camp Peary's nickname of "The Farm.") [7]
By late June, the project also got a fourth paramilitary instructor.
Albert "Zeke" Zilaitis, the son of Lithuanian immigrants, had had his
heart set on a career in professional football after playing for Saint
Francis College in Pennsylvania. But when he did not make the cut at
rookie camp for the Pittsburgh Steelers, he opted for the CIA. The
choice turned out to be a good one, as he proved himself an able
adviser in Thailand alongside Fosmire and Poe. [8]
Zilaitis's arrival coincided with the start of heavy weapons
instruction. Among the systems introduced to the Tibetans were
bazookas, mortars, recoilless rifles, and. 30-caliber light machine
guns. Also making a debut at Hale was a consignment of five-inch
rockets, courtesy of the U.S. Navy. Intrigued by their possible use for
long-distance harassment, Zilaitis promptly loaded the rocket noses
with high explosives, fitted wires to a car battery, and began firing
them from a makeshift trough. Although the rocket trajectory could be
slightly altered by bending the rear fins, accuracy was almost nil.
Predictably, one veered off course and struck a transcontinental
telegraph cable hanging across the valley, causing significant monetary
loss and a flurry of angry messages from headquarters. Earning the name
"Werner von Zilaitis" for the mishap, he quietly retired the remainder
of the projectiles. [9]
The cable incident unnerved headquarters not so much because
transcontinental cable traffic had been cut but because the operation
had almost been exposed when telegraph crews arrived to make repairs.
Secrecy was also threatened by crews servicing power lines through the
camp, as well as by the occasional shepherd directing sheep across the
valley. All these threats begged for measures to mask the camp's
activities. As a first step, a platoon of military policemen was sent
from Carson for perimeter patrol. Second, a cover story was concocted
with the help of the Defense Atomic Support Agency (DASA) in
Washington, D.C. During a 15 July news conference, Rear Admiral Edward
Parker, DASA chief, claimed that his agency was carrying out a
top-secret testing program at Hale. The program would not include
setting off nuclear weapons, he assured the press. The following day,
the Denver Post ran the story on its front page. As an aside, DASA
informed the Public Service Company of Colorado that it needed to give
a day's notice before crewmen serviced power lines near the camp. [10]
Unfortunately, the CIA's smoke screen did not extend to Carson and
nearby Peterson Field. This became apparent in late summer, when the
Hale instructors began the airborne phase of training. The agency had
discreetly arranged to use a weather service C-47 based at Peterson to
drop the students over a remote corner of Carson. The intention was to
load the Tibetans into a bus with blackened windows and drive down to
Colorado Springs late on Friday night, do the jump shortly after
midnight, and head home before sunrise. [11]
The plan was sound, except for one crucial detail. CIA headquarters had
forgotten to inform the civil aviation authorities of their impending
nocturnal activity. On the night the first flight was flown, airport
officials spotted a low-level aircraft on radar and assumed that it was
in trouble. As this pattern continued over the next two weekends, wild
rumors spread through the community; concerned and suspicious, the
authorities demanded answers. In short order, phone calls were placed
from Washington, and promises were made to give notification before all
future night flights. [12]
By that time, the Tibetans had completed three jumps without mishap,
and their training officially came to an end. For graduation, Zilaitis
went to neighboring Leadville and ordered nine kegs of beer. To the
surprise of the proprietors, he came back later that night with empties
and asked for five more. [13]
***
Elsewhere within the CIA, the debate on how to return the Tibetans to
their homeland had been raging for weeks. Following the earlier ST
WHALE flights, the agency had firmly concluded that its DC-6
derivative, the C-118, was in need of retirement. "It might have been
good for Pan Am," one CAT pilot later commented, "but it was not a war
bird." [14]
Beyond this general consensus, however, there had been considerable
disagreement over the C-118's replacement. George Doole, a former
airline executive co-opted by the agency to oversee its aviation
proprietaries, had initially decided that the DC-7C cargo plane was a
good pick. At first glance, the choice appeared sound. An extended
version of the DC-6 series, the DC-7C had been warmly welcomed by
civilian airlines for its ability to complete nonstop Atlantic flights.
Confident in the DC-7'S abilities, Doole had acquired one airframe in
Miami and initiated training runs over the Atlantic. Very quickly,
however, word came back that the plane was burning out engines at an
alarming rate. "It was really no more reliable than the DC-6 at high
altitudes," concluded CIA air branch officer Gar Thorsrud. [15]
Thorsrud, in fact, already had his eye on a better candidate. Back in
1951, the USAF had scoped the requirement for a rugged workhorse that
could land in primitive conditions. The result -- the C- 30 Hercules --
was nothing short of revolutionary. Blending propellers and jet power,
it combined good speed and range and had double the payload of the
C-118. Moreover, its rear ramp was specially designed for airdrops, and
its reversible props allowed for quick stops on small fields. The
Hercules reached USAF squadrons to rave reviews in late 1956, and the
USAF almost immediately started production of a B model with an
improved engine and better systems reliability.
There was one problem with the Hercules, however. In exclusive service
with the USAF for less than three years, it could not be mistaken for
anything other than an American military aircraft. If one were ever
lost over unfriendly territory, plausible deniability would be
impossible. But following the earlier decision to replace British
rifles with American ones, plausible deniability for the Tibet project
was now subject to exception.
Thorsrud, for one, thought that the upgrade in aircraft capability
outweighed the risk of exposure. Bypassing Doole, he took his proposal
directly to Des FitzGerald, who in turn placed a call to General Graves
Erskine. A thirty-six-year veteran of the Marine Corps (he had led the
assaults on both Iwo Jima and Guam), Erskine had been serving since
1953 in a newly formed slot as assistant secretary of defense in charge
of the Office of Special Operations. An innovation of the Eisenhower
administration, this post commanded great influence in allocating
military support for the CIA's various cold war skirmishes. Armed with
statistics supplied by Thorsrud, FitzGerald made a convincing pitch.
Once Erskine gave his blessing, the Pentagon agreed to lend its new
cargo carrier. [16]
The order was relayed to Sewart Air Force Base in Tennessee (which
hosted one of the USAF's original Hercules squadrons), where the local
wing commander, Colonel George Norman, was petitioned for loan of a
single airframe and volunteer crew. The cover story: aviators were
needed in Colorado Springs to give weekend joyrides to the first batch
of graduates from the new Air Force Academy.
In short order, six airmen took up the offer. What was remarkable about
the bunch was their lack of experience. Volunteering as aircraft
commander was First Lieutenant Billie Mills, who had signed on
precisely because he wanted to chalk up more hours in the Hercules. His
equally green copilot, Captain Milt Chorn, had a desk assignment and
merely wanted time in the cockpit to earn flight pay. [17]
Their assignment, they soon discovered, had nothing to do with an
academy boondoggle. Met on the Peterson tarmac by Thorsrud, they were
ordered to sign secrecy documents and given a skimpy mission brief.
Palleted supply bundles were to be loaded into the back of the C-13O,
instructed Thorsrud, and then dropped on ground signals in the
mountains around Hale.
Upon hearing their real purpose, Mills protested. His colleagues were
essentially rookies, he argued, and had never performed drops in
mountainous terrain. Before he put them and his plane at risk, the
lieutenant requested a telephone to ask the advice of his superiors at
Sewart. In the meantime, Thorsrud got on a different phone and relayed
the gist of the crew's lament to Erskine's office at the Pentagon. By
the time Mills got Tennessee on the line, his wing commander, Colonel
Norman, was engaged in a urgent call from Washington. Though far from
happy about having some of his more inexperienced men on loan to the
CIA, the colonel was ordered to be cooperative. "Be careful," the
colonel curtly told Mills, "and don't let them kill you." [18]
Over the following week, the Sewart aviators made flights over Colorado
to boost their self- confidence. After that, the practice drops began.
Jim McElroy, the agency's logistics chief from Okinawa, was temporarily
deployed to Peterson to help rig loads. Once the pallets were packed
inside the Hercules, the USAF crew was simply told to drop them to
unknown persons setting signal fires near Hale; if they did not see the
correct signal, they were to abort. [19]
After several days of this, Thorsrud eagerly lobbied to begin the next
phase of Hercules trials. To confirm the suitability of the C-130 for
long-distance airdrops, the agency had mapped out a circuitous route
covering 2,419 kilometers (1,500 miles) of mountainous terrain leading
to a small ground target at Hale. The entire flight was to be done at
low level (much of it at less than 500 feet) with a full cargo load.
The idea was to have the terrain mask the aircraft from radar; only if
there was trouble would the crew bounce up to 606 meters (2,000 feet),
above the highest terrain feature. Further, the CIA planners allowed
for just a ten-second variance between flight checkpoints, and a
thirty-second variance over the drop zone. As if that were not enough,
the return journey was to be flown with one of the plane's four engines
shut down.
Because Mills and his men had performed well during the flights to date
-- and because the CIA did not want to bring a second crew into
confidence -- the agency argued that they be retained on the project.
The USAF again agreed, albeit reluctantly. Mills was also less than
enthusiastic, as he knew that the CIA stipulations placed the C-130 at
its performance limits. In the end, however, the flight went off
without a hitch.
Now that the USAF crew had proved the concept, there remained the task
of transitioning the CIA's own pilots for the actual mission. Earlier
in July, the agency's Far East proprietary, Civil Air Transport, had
changed its corporate identity and been renamed Air America. Despite
the name change, its roster still included Doc Johnson, William Welk,
and the rest of the team that had performed the initial C-118 drops
over Tibet. Called to Colorado on short notice, they were turned over
to the USAF crew for instruction.
Upon meeting the seasoned Air America aviators, Lieutenant Mills stood
in awe. "Some of them had 20,000 hours," he recalls, "against my 1,000
hours in multi-engined aircraft." Despite the mismatch, the two
contingents got on well working in the cockpit. They were instructed to
stage from Colorado to points west. During their low-level return trek,
a mountaintop post at Nellis Air Force Base in Nevada would be actively
seeking them on radar. "On the first attempt," remembers Mills, "Nellis
reported spotting US for just fifteen minutes out of three hours." [20]
The next day they repeated the flight, but this time with the added
challenge of having their electronic Identification Friend-Foe signaler
turned on. Rising to the occasion, the Air America pilots masterfully
hugged the terrain. "It was a breathtaking flight," said Mills. "Nellis
tracked us for just eight minutes."
***
After nearly a month of Stateside training, Doc Johnson and his men
were sent back to the Far East at the beginning of September. The
Tibetans at Hale had also graduated, and the skies over their homeland
were set to clear. Thus, the race was on to perform the first C-130
parachute infiltration as soon as the weather and lunar conditions
proved cooperative. According to the CIA's original plan, the agents
were supposed to link up with the NVDA and provide a multiplier
training effect. But having lost its eyes inside Tibet back in April,
the agency had no timely intelligence on the current location of
resistance pockets, if any.
An attempt had been made to rectify this shortcoming early that summer.
On his rushed return from Hale in May, Lhamo Tsering had paused briefly
at the CIA's Okinawa safe house and met with a motley ensemble of seven
Tibetans -- all medical rejects or academic washouts from the two
contingents in the United States. Of these, he selected four and
escorted them back to East Pakistan, then across the border to India.
[21]
Meeting up with the group in Darjeeling, Gyalo Thondup chose three to
conduct an overland infiltration into Tibet to determine the
disposition of the NVDA. Because the PLA was believed to be blocking
most of the passes along the NEFA and Sikkim frontier, the team was to
skirt west of the Kanchenjunga massif and enter Tibet via a trading
route in eastern Nepal.
As it turned out, the mission did not last long. They had barely
crossed the border when the agents ran headlong into a PLA patrol. Two
of the three were killed instantly; the third went on the run and did
not make it back to Darjeeling for several months. [22]
Still without eyes, the CIA had little recourse but to sift through the
rumors circulating among Tibetan refugee camps in India. From these
sources came apocryphal tales of an isolated NVDA band 19O kilometers
north of Lhasa near the shores of the Nam Tso, Tibet's second largest
saltwater lake. If true, the stories were dated by at least several
weeks. But they reflected a certain logic: just as the lake's serenity
had long made it a favorite destination for religious pilgrims, that
same isolation made Nam Tso a good pick for a guerrilla redoubt.
With no better options coming to the fore, the CIA on 3 and 4 September
directed its U-2 spy planes to make a pair of high-altitude passes over
the Nam Tso; a third overflight was conducted on 9 September. Air
America's Hercules crew was then summoned to Kadena to view the
photographs and pinpoint a drop zone. Pending good weather, the mission
was set for the full moon cycle during the third week of the month.
[23]
***
Back at Hale, the CIA instructors had taken aside the original Lithang
Khampas -- who by that time had been training for more than ten months
-- and briefed them on their impending Nam Tso mission. As their number
had been attrited down to six, the decision was made to augment them
with a single commando from the follow-on contingent. Before departing
Colorado, all were coached in the use of the "L Pill," an innocuously
titled cyanide ampoule cushioned inside a small sawdust-filled box. In
the event of severe injury during the parachute jump, or some other
dire contingency, the agent merely had to place the pill in his mouth
and bite; death was guaranteed within seconds. [24]
At the beginning of the third week of September, Fosmire loaded the
seven Tibetans into Hale's shielded bus and ferried them to Colorado
Springs in the dead of night. The Pentagon's Office of Special
Operations had already made tentative arrangements for ten Asia-based C
130s to be set aside for what was vaguely described as a "classified
general-war alert standby mission." For this initial flight, however,
the decision was made to have Lieutenant Mills and his crew bring their
own Hercules from Sewart. [25]
The USAF airmen and Gar Thorsrud were waiting on the Peterson tarmac as
the bus pulled close to the C-130's rear ramp. All but the cockpit
windows had been covered with makeshift curtains, as much to prevent
prying eyes from peering in as to prevent the passengers from looking
out. With the Tibetans, Fosmire, and Thorsrud taking their places in
the back, the Hercules lifted off and headed west for McClelland Air
Force Base near Sacramento, California. Pausing just long enough to
take on more fuel, they were back in the air and en route to Hickam Air
Force Base on the Hawaiian island of Oahu for another refuel.
What had been a clockwork operation to that point quickly ground to a
halt as the Hercules blew an engine shortly after take-off from Hawaii.
Making an emergency return to Hickam, the crew was informed that
repairs promised to be extensive and lengthy. The ST BARNUM team was
now in a bind: not only would the delay make them miss their lunar
window of opportunity, but it would be hard to conceal seven Asians on
base for any length of time without risk of exposure.
Thinking quickly, Thorsrud relayed a call to General Erskine's Office
of Special Operations. Answering on the other end was Lieutenant
Colonel Leroy Fletcher Prouty, a former air transport pilot and the
office's senior air force liaison. Invoking the highest national
security concerns, Prouty promptly placed a call to Hickam and lit a
fire under the resident top brass. In short order, one of the base's
senior officers rushed out to the plane. "He was in an unmistakable
deference mode," said Thorsrud. A new C-13O from Hickam's own inventory
was quickly substituted for the stricken Sewart airframe, and the
mission was again underway." [26]
Upon reaching Okinawa, the C-13O was joined by Doc Johnson and his Air
America crew, who took their places behind the USAF aviators. Boarding,
too, were smoke jumpers William Demmons, Andy Andersen, and Art
Jukkala, all assigned as kickers on this maiden Hercules flight.
Squeezed in among the passengers was 13,500 pounds of palleted
supplies; though far short of the C-13O's full potential, this was
still an increase over the C-118.
Two others joined the flight as well. Baba Lekshi and Temba Tileh, both
Khampas from the contingent that had ex filtrated to Hale in May, had
been deemed too old to endure the stress of paramilitary training. Left
behind at the Kadena safe house for the previous four months, they were
now ordered to join the Nam Tso team as its eighth and ninth members.
On 18 September, the crowded Hercules proceeded southeast to Thailand
and landed at Takhli Royal Thai Air Force Base, a former imperial
Japanese airfield about 130 kilometers north of Bangkok. Instead of
Kurmitola, the CIA intended to stage all future Tibet infiltrations
from Takhli, an option made possible by the C-130's extended range.
Primitive (it sported two runways -- one concrete, one dirt), remote (a
single nearby village numbered 300 inhabitants), and backed by a
supportive government in Bangkok, Takhli had all the necessary
ingredients for a discreet launch site. Moreover, Tibet flights
launching from Takhli entailed a less risky overflight of remote Burma
rather than India. East Pakistan's Kurmitola would still be available,
but only for emergency diverts.
Shortly before midnight, Fosmire, Thorsrud, and the USAF crew stood on
the Takhli runway to bid farewell. With Doc Johnson at the controls,
the C-I30 roared down the airstrip and disappeared into the northern
sky.
***
Staring at the radar console, navigator Jim Keck called course
corrections as the C-130 took a direct bearing up Burma's Salween
valley. Leaving Burmese airspace and skirting easternmost India, the
Hercules arced west toward the southern extreme of the Tibetan plateau.
The flight to the drop zone promised to be a trying seven hours each
way.
Though the C-130 was infinitely more comfortable than the C-118, at no
point did Keck feel the tension ease. Part of this was due to the
navigational challenges of the mission. Part, too, was anxiety over the
ad hoc emergency precautions taken by Air America. A quick review of
their on- board survival kit, for instance, found it to be stocked with
items such as a life raft, dye markers, and fishhooks -- all of
questionable value in the mountains. Equally irrelevant was the lecture
they had received by an expert nutritionist on eating herbs and bark,
none of which grew at high altitude. Worse, they had been warned that a
hefty white man parachuting from a disabled plane in the thin air would
likely end up with broken legs. Lamented Keck, "They issued us each a
silenced .22-caliber pistol and told us we were better off riding the
plane in." [27]
All this was little comfort as Keck directed the plane around Lhasa and
north toward the Nam Tso. Before long, the surface of the lake could be
seen reflecting moonlight in the distance. Already, the nine agents had
taken up positions in front of the right door, while a string of
table-sized pallets was maneuvered along rollers leading out the left.
In the final minutes before the drop, the three kickers put on oxygen
masks and pulled open the doors. Cold air sliced through the cabin as
the airplane slowed to 120 knots with flaps down. With the plane's nose
edging skyward and the green light flashing, Tibetans and cargo exited
without incident. Cutting a tight circle over the Nam Tso, the Hercules
was quickly on its way back to Takhli.
***
Remaining in Thailand, Tom Fosmire ventured down to the CIA station in
Bangkok to await initial radio contact from his agents. Team leader
Ngawang Phunjung, who had gone by the call sign "Nathan" while in the
United States, had consistently impressed the agency instructors during
training. "He had a good sense about him," opined Fosmire. [28]
But good sense or not, the days ticked by without Nathan coming on the
air. After a week of fruitless waiting -- and amid speculation that the
team might have accidentally landed in the lake and drowned -- a
dejected Fosmire headed back toward the mountains of Colorado."
Geir
Tibet in the early days after the exile. After this thread we'll move
on to denouncing the smut of individual gurus such as Trungpa and those
like him.
More on it :
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- HITTING THEIR STRIDE
Nathan and his eight teammates hit the ground running -- literally. The
C-130 had landed them nearly a day's march from the planned drop zone
and dangerously close to a PLA encampment. Frightened of detection,
they immediately fled toward their intended target without pausing to
recover any supply bundles, including the radio.
Over the ensuing days, their comedy of errors continued. Chancing upon
some locals, Nathan learned that the resistance they sought had
dispersed half a year earlier. Then when they tried to enter a village
for refuge, the residents eyed their light complexions (the result of
frequent classroom sessions over the previous ten months) and suspected
them of being Chinese provocateurs. On the run from their own
countrymen, the tired and hungry agents saw little choice but to avoid
the thick PLA defenses sure to be found farther south near Lhasa and
instead head west toward the Nepal border, some 500 kilometers away.
[1]
None of this was known to the CIA's planners, who were busy preparing
for the next round of airborne infiltrations. Once again, they had to
generate a list of potential drop zones without the benefit of current
intelligence inside the country. One possibility had surfaced back in
early June when the head of the Tibet Task Force, Roger MacCarthy, had
ventured to Darjeeling to debrief NVDA chief Gompo Tashi.
A former air force Morse operator, MacCarthy had begun his CIA career
in 1952 when he answered an agency call for radio communicators. Known
for his gregarious nature, he had been dispatched to Western
Enterprises on Taiwan the following year and sufficiently impressed his
superiors to qualify for junior officer training upon his Stateside
return. Posted to Saipan after that, he was first exposed to the Tibet
project while serving on the island as an instructor for the initial
Khampa cadre in 1957. Deeply touched by their struggle, the
thirty-two-year-old MacCarthy was quick to seize the opportunity to
assume command of the Tibet Task Force from Frank Holober, who departed
for an assignment in Japan just before the Dalai Lama's flight to exile
in March 1959.
Arriving in Darjeeling by way of Calcutta, MacCarthy was waiting inside
a safe house when Gompo Tashi arrived in formal Western attire. He
offered the Tibetan two cartons of Marlboros and two bottles of Scotch
to break the ice. The general readily accepted the gifts and launched
into a detailed diatribe about himself and his family's background.
With Lhamo Tsering (who had recently returned from Camp Hale) providing
translations, the Khampa leader spoke with sincerity and passion. "He
showed me his scars from battle," said McCarthy, "and recited where
they occurred like a road map." [2]
Over the course of three days, the CIA officer and rebel leader
reviewed details of the NVDA campaign to date. Gompo Tashi was honest
about the resistance's shortcomings -- including bad behavior and
defeats -- but overall, he thought the NVDA had done well. He was
saddened, however, that he had not started organizing earlier.
Apologizing for their poor guerrilla tactics, he noted his frustration
in trying to convince other chieftains that a fifty-man point was
excessive and could be seen from the air.
In the end, Gompo Tashi had no ready answer about the future course of
the resistance. Losses were costly, he conceded, and replacements were
not readily available. Given the PLA's air capabilities, it was
impossible to do much more than ambushes and interdiction of convoys
and perhaps some sabotage. He was optimistic about running such
missions from enclaves in Nepal, but more guarded about similar strikes
staged out of NEFA.
Gompo Tashi let something else slip as well. In his detailed recitation
of NVDA activities, he recounted how he had operated with success along
the westernmost edge of Kham in December 1958. Particularly around the
town of Pembar, a supportive Khampa populace had allowed the resistance
to keep the area free of Chinese. Though this information was dated,
the location appealed to the CIA on another count: situated near the
south bank of the Salween, Pembar was within striking distance of the
drivable road the Chinese had constructed between Chamdo and Lhasa.
Cutting traffic there would accomplish the same goals as the earlier
stillborn effort, ST WHALE.
Brainstorming further leads, the CIA came up with two other drop zone
candidates. The first of these, deeper in Kham, was chosen in order to
better exploit the ethnic background of most of the Hale students.
Using the same logic, a third target was selected in southern Amdo in
order to milk value from the three Amdowas in the contingent. To map
out the exact routes to and from these locations, a U-2 overflight was
sanctioned on 4 November to cover Tibet, China, and Burma.
Roger MacCarthy, head of the Tibet Task Force. (Courtesy Roger
MacCarthy)
Back at Hale, the sixteen remaining graduates were briefed on their
upcoming mission. Six would be dropped at Pembar, the CIA told them,
five would land farther east in Kham, and another five would parachute
inside Amdo. With the full moon falling at midmonth, the agents were
rushed through Okinawa late in the second week of November on their way
to Thailand. Escorting them this time was Zeke Zilaitis. Special
permission had also been extended for Ray Stark to make the trip.
Failure to contact the Nam Tso team, and a lingering suspicion that the
agency's Thai-based communications officers might not have been
sufficiently attentive to pick up a faint transmission out of Tibet,
led Stark to vow to stay in Bangkok and personally "guarantee" to raise
this latest group over the airwaves.
Once at Takhli, the Tibetans waited until last light on the day before
the full moon. At that point, they were then given an eleventh-hour
change of plans: all three teams would jump at Pembar from a single
plane, the CIA had decided, rather than using three separate drop
zones; the Amdo and Kham teams would travel to their final destinations
from Pembar on foot. This brightened the agents considerably, as they
appreciated the psychological security of infiltrating as one. Waving
good-bye to Zilaitis on the tarmac, they boarded a lone C-130 and
disappeared toward the Burmese frontier.
***
Inside the Hercules, twenty-one-year-old Donyo Pandatsang adjusted the
cyanide ampoule encased in fine wire mesh that was strapped to his
forearm. Answering to the name "Bruce" while at Hale, he had spoken no
English when he arrived in Colorado but showed great natural aptitude
and went on to advanced radio training. He was selected as team leader
for the six men designated to remain at Pembar.
Now lined up in front of the right cabin door, Bruce was petrified. "We
had no idea about the fate of the Nam Tso team," he later recounted,
"and none of us were natives of the Pembar area." But to his own
surprise, as soon as he launched himself into the slipsteam, all fear
vanished. With the sound of the plane fast receding, Bruce was
overwhelmed by the prospect of being home. Dangling from the risers, he
could clearly see that he was heading for a valley with snowcaps
glistening on either side. His one complaint: "They told us we would
land in a forest, but there was nothing but rocks." [3]
Working in the moonlight, Bruce and his colleagues quickly located
their supply pallets, including one that had to be fished from a river.
Later that same night, they encountered locals from a small nearby
village who had come to investigate the noise. Not only did the locals
appear friendly, but they said that many Khampas were still living in
the area.
With this positive news, Bruce assembled his radio the following
morning and tapped out a short message. His handlers at the Tibet Task
Force now knew that the team was alive.
***
Down in Bangkok, Ray Stark had taken up residence in the CIA's secure
radio room inside the U.S. embassy. Though he had quiet confidence in
the abilities of the agents he had trained, there was an element of
anxiety about going out on a limb and guaranteeing contact.
The anxiety did not last long. When Bruce's string of Morse came over
the air the morning after infiltration, the local agency radiomen were
shaking with excitement. "They could barely copy the message," recalled
the elated instructor.
His mission complete for the moment, Stark awarded himself two weeks'
leave in Hong Kong and Tokyo on his way back to Colorado.
***
It did not take long for word to spread around Pembar about the arrival
of the CIA-trained cadre. As would-be guerrillas flocked to the scene,
the agents knew that this rousing reception was a double-edged sword.
Just as when Wangdu had landed in Kham in 1957, some of the Khampas
came with no weapons; others came with an assortment of rifles but no
bullets. Three different calibers of ammunition were in heavy demand,
and expectations were high for the CIA to deliver.
Back in Washington, the Tibet Task Force weighed the radioed requests
for supplies. That a supportive public was itching to take up arms
against the Chinese was a good thing, and much of the wish list
emanating from Pembar (with the exception of pistol silencers) fell
within reason. Approval was quickly secured for a single Hercules to be
packed with pallets at Kadena and staged through Takhli during the next
full moon in mid-December. Unlike the two earlier drops, the C-130's
expansive rear ramp would be used instead of the smaller side doors;
this would allow more supplies to be dispatched in less time.
On the ground, the Tibetan agents had assembled a veritable fleet of
mules at the designated drop zone. Six enormous dung bonfires were lit
in an enormous "L" shape and, like clockwork, the C- 30 materialized
overhead. Moments later, bundles hit earth. Inside each were stacks of
cardboard boxes with four rifles apiece. As per their training at Hale,
the agents had affixed ropes to the mule saddles, allowing two boxes to
be quickly secured to each animal. Within two hours, the entire drop
zone had been cleared.
Nearly all the 200-plus Garand rifles were distributed to local
guerrilla volunteers. Fifty rifles, however, were earmarked for a band
of Khampas selected to escort the five agents destined to shift from
Pembar to Amdo. As planned, those five crossed the Salween at year's
end and proceeded 150 kilometers northwest. Still 80 kilometers short
of Amdo's Jyekundo district, the team came upon a fertile resistance
presence and decided to go no further. With this second guerrilla
network running by the start of 1959, at long last the task force was
beginning to hit its stride.
***
On the diplomatic front, too, the struggle for Tibet was heating up.
Back on 23 April, the Dalai Lama had sent his oral message to the U.S.
government through Gyalo Thondup, reaffirming his determination to
support the resistance of his people. He made two requests of
Washington at that time: recognize his soon-to-be-formed government in
exile, and continue to supply the resistance. He reiterated these
themes in a formal scroll, a summary of which reached the White House
by 16 June. In this, the Dalai Lama further suggested that Tibetan
independence be a prerequisite for Beijing's entry into the United
Nations.
Pressed to compose an answer, the Department of State begged caution.
The Dalai Lama should not publicly ask for recognition of a government
in exile, urged one Foggy Bottom draft, unless he was assured of a warm
international response. If he made an appeal to the United Nations,
State Department policy makers felt that the United States should
appropriately assist; if not, the United States should not take the
lead in pressing Tibet's case in the international arena.
And taking a page from sweeteners offered earlier in the decade, they
believed that the United States should offer a stipend and help the
Dalai Lama find asylum elsewhere if India gave him the boot.
Eisenhower was of a mind to agree with such circular diplomatic
niceties. When a final response was orally relayed back to the monarch
on 18 June, it mouthed sympathy for the Tibetan cause with few
commitments. Addressing the Dalai Lama as the "rightful leader of the
Tibetan people," it even managed to dance around the earlier semantics
surrounding suzerainty, sovereignty, and independence.
Not surprisingly, word quickly came back that neither the Dalai Lama
nor Gyalo Thondup was pleased with Washington's limp platitudes. The
monarch was especially keen to elicit stronger U.S. support, given his
growing strains with Nehru (the Indian leader was insistent that the
Dalai Lama work quietly for autonomy, while the Tibetan leader spent
the summer threatening to make a bold declaration of independence), and
Washington's less than full assurances did nothing to bolster his
leverage with New Delhi.
Perhaps the only good news, from the Tibetan perspective, was the U.S.
government's willingness to act as a background cheerleader for Tibet's
case at the United Nations. This gained momentum on 25 July, when the
International Commission of Jurists published a 208-page preliminary
report entitled "The Question of Tibet and the Rule of Law."
Distributed to the United Nations Secretariat and all delegations, it
laid the basis for the Tibet issue to be included on the agenda for
that fall's United Nations session.
Seizing this opportunity, Gyalo Thondup hired Ernest Gross, a former
State Department legal adviser and alternate delegate to three United
Nations General Assemblies, to represent Tibet. Unlike Lhasa's earlier
flirtations with the United Nations -- when it was roundly ignored at
the beginning of the decade -- this time the experienced Gross proved
an adept lobbyist. With co-sponsorship from Ireland and Malaya, a Tibet
resolution was scheduled for a hearing in front of the full assembly
during mid-October.
Behind the scenes, the Tibet Task Force crafted several covert efforts
to support the upcoming vote. In one of these, Lowell Thomas, Jr., who
had traveled with his famous father through Tibet in 1949 and become an
impassioned advocate of Tibetan independence, was fed intelligence
supplied by CIA guerrilla contacts. Some of this information was
incorporated into his highly sympathetic book The Silent War in Tibet,
published by Doubleday on 8 October.
Later that same week, the 12 October edition of Life International
included an article entitled "Asia's Odd New Battlegrounds." In it were
six drawings, ostensibly made by "refugees," graphically depicting
Chinese excesses against Tibet. Left unsaid was the fact that the
drawings had actually been made by the agent trainees at Camp Hale as
part of sketching drills during a class on intelligence collection. The
best of these drawings had been presented by the Hale staff to Des
FitzGerald, who took them to CIA Director Dulles, who in turn phoned C.
D. Jackson, the conservative Life International publisher (and former
member of the Eisenhower election campaign), with a request that they
be incorporated in a supportive article. [4]
All this culminated in passage of a United Nations resolution on 21
October deploring China's violations of human rights in Tibet. The vote
was forty-five in favor, nine opposed, and twenty-six abstentions.
Besides the numeric victory, there were other reasons for cheer. Though
short of the declaration of independence wanted by the Dalai Lama, the
vote served to keep the Tibetan case alive before the international
community. Moreover, the experience had proved invaluable for Gyalo
Thondup. Far from the uninspiring introvert witnessed by earlier case
officers in India, a far more confident and dynamic Gyalo had emerged
at the United Nations.
Gyalo could be stubborn as well. Not willing to lose momentum after the
resolution, Gross immediately formulated plans for the first overseas
trip by the Dalai Lama. Using the same lobbying skills that had been
successful in the halls of the United Nations, he persuaded the
National Council of Christians and Jews to call a conference for the
spring of 1960 with the Dalai Lama as principal speaker. The venue
would be the Peter Cooper Union in New York, followed by an unofficial
reception hosted by Eisenhower in Washington.
All that remained was a pledge of cooperation from Gyalo and the Dalai
Lama. To the shock of U.S. officials, however, both opposed the trip
because it would set a precedent for an unofficial reception in the
Dalai Lama's capacity as a religious leader. Though by late 1959 the
monarch had temporarily shelved plans to set up a government in exile
(because of ongoing opposition from India), he refused to prejudice
future claims to independence in return for what he deemed was a
short-term advantage. On the diplomatic front, at least, this prime
opportunity ultimately wafted away.
***
For the agents back in Tibet, the task force was taking steps to
ratchet up its resupply operations. Through December 1959, these
flights had been limited to one Air America aircrew flying a single
mission during each full moon phase. Since the lunar window of
opportunity could not be expanded, the only other option was to
increase the number of sorties flown. In anticipation of this, Air
America in early December allocated additional personnel for C-130
operations. In several cases, some of its more experienced pilots were
brought into the program to serve functions other than flying the
plane. Captains Ron Sutphin and Harry Hudson, for example, were given
quick code training in Japan before being assigned as radio operators;
another pilot, Jack Stilts, was named a flight mechanic. [5]
More C-130 flights also meant the need for more kickers. Efforts to
secure these personnel began in November 1959 when two Montana smoke
jumpers -- Miles Johnson and John Lewis -- were beckoned to Washington
for background security checks. John Greaney, the task force officer
who had first scouted Camp Hale, reserved rooms under false names at
the Roger Smith Hotel in order to conduct confidential interviews with
the prospects.
The following month, half a dozen more smoke jumpers were invited to
the capital. Shep Johnson, Miles's younger brother, was among them. A
former marine and Korean War veteran, he had been tending cattle at a
snowy Idaho ranch when he got an urgent message to come to the phone.
"I thought my mother was sick," he recalls, "but it was another smoke
jumper saying that I was needed in Washington. The next day I bought a
sports coat and flew to D.C., where I met some of the CIA officers,
including Gar [Thorsrud]. We spent ten days looking over maps. Then
they gave me an advance in pay; it was the first time I had handled a
$100 bill." [6]
By the full moon cycle of January 1960, nearly a dozen smoke jumpers
were assembled on Okinawa. Four kickers were selected to go on that
month's maiden flight: two from the new contingent, and two veterans
from earlier flights. The mission took place as scheduled and without
complications, prompting the ST BARNUM planners to reduce the number of
kickers to two for the month's second resupply flight.
During this encore, a single Tibetan agent was scheduled to jump along
with the supplies. That agent, a reserved twenty-eight-year-old Khampa
monk named Kalden, had been one of the washouts from the Lithang
contingent that had parachuted at Nam Tso. Kalden had been sitting idle
at the Kadena safe house for the past sixteen months while the CIA
debated what to do with him. That decision: drop him at Pembar.
As the Hercules made its final approach toward the drop zone, radioman
Keck and flight mechanic Stiles came into the cabin to help push
pallets out the rear. One of the two kickers, Andy Andersen, was
positioned close to the edge of the ramp alongside the lone Tibetan.
Not secured by a tether, Andersen instead wore a special small
parachute set high on the shoulder to keep the waist clear and
eliminate the possibility of getting snagged while pushing the cargo.
[7]
When the green light went on, Kalden got a tap on his shoulder as the
signal to leap off the ramp. For the first time, a Tibetan balked.
Turning his back on the black void, the monk grabbed Andersen in an
unwelcome embrace. All too aware of his precarious position, the kicker
spun the agent around and heaved him ahead of the exiting cargo.
Reaching backward in a final act of desperation, the Tibetan snatched
the radio headset off Andersen's head. Trailing a thirty-foot cord in
hand, he disappeared into the night sky. [8]
Down at the drop zone, Kalden landed to a reception committee of eleven
fellow agents and hundreds of Khampa guerrillas. He came with orders to
join the five agents meant to shift farther east into Kham, though
plans for that movement were now on hold. Remaining at Pembar, the
twelve took stock of their growing inventory. Included in the pallets
were a pair of machine guns on anti-aircraft mounts and a large stock
of TNT. None of these items were rated as particularly relevant by the
Tibetans, though they did go out of their way to use the explosives to
down a nearby bridge. More popular were the hundreds of Garands and a
carbine variant stacked inside the bundles, both of which were magnets
for new recruits.
Sensing that it had arrived at a winning formula, the Tibet Task Force
planned more of the same for February 1960. Helping to coordinate the
ongoing resupply effort from Kadena was U.S. Air Force Major Harry
"Heinie" Aderholt. No stranger to the CIA, Aderholt had been seconded
to Camp Peary for three years starting in 1951 to help set up an air
branch at the agency's new training facility. After a six-year
interlude with the Tactical Air Command beginning in 1954, he was again
detailed to the CIA in January 1960, this time as commander of the
Kadena-based Detachment 2, 1045th Operational Evaluation and Training
Group.
Aderholt's Detachment 2 had a long and convoluted relationship with the
Tibet project. Its lineage could be traced back to the long-disbanded
Asia-based ARC wing, a portion of which had been retained as the 322nd
Squadron's Detachment 1. When that squadron was dissolved in late 1957,
its secret cell (renamed Detachment 2 of the 313th Air Division)
remained at Kadena and continued to receive orders for CIA-sanctioned
flights, such as the C-118 personnel ex filtrations from Kurmitola. Its
C-118 was also loaned for CAT-piloted flights into Tibet.
Insignia for Detachment 2 / 1045th Operational Evaluation and Training
Group, the outfit that coordinated C-130 support for the Tibet project.
(Courtesy Harry Aderholt)
By the time Aderholt arrived, there had been two significant changes to
the detachment. First, whereas the earlier arrangement had been a
partnership between the agency and the air force, the CIA now fully
controlled Detachment 2 in all but name. The agency went so far as to
remove the Kadena unit from the 313th Air Division and place it under
its own cover organization, the 1045th Operational Evaluation and
Training Group, ostensibly headquartered at Washington's Bolling Field.
Second, Detachment 2 was no longer in the business of flying classified
flights on behalf of the CIA. Rather, it now acted as the CIA's on-site
management team to coordinate Air America and U.S. Air Force assets and
personnel in support of the agency's cold war ventures in Asia.
Aderholt tackled his new assignment with breathless vigor and initiated
several fast changes. His immediate predecessor in command of the
detachment, Major Arthur Dittrich, was a longtime CIA hand in Asia,
having helped coordinate covert flights into mainland China during the
Korean War. But whereas Dittrich had preferred to err on the side of
caution and limit C-130 payloads to 13,500 pounds, Aderholt elected to
push the envelope by packing up to 26,000 pounds of cargo per ship.
Aderholt also took steps to upgrade the primitive conditions at Takhli
Air Base. Where once only native huts had stood, he cleared out the old
imperial Japanese living areas and erected new elevated quarters. This
move was warmly welcomed by the Air America crews, who had taken to
heart Takhli's reputed claim of being home to more king cobras than
anywhere else on the planet.
By the March full moon, the C-130 crews had amassed sufficient Tibet
experience to begin staging two aircraft per night. There was the
occasional gaffe -- such as when Captain Harry Hudson accidentally left
his survival belt atop a pallet, resulting in a costly loss when the
gold sovereigns inside went out the rear -- and periodic bouts with
Murphy's Law -- such as the frequent glitches with the aircraft's
temperamental radar, forcing the navigator to rely on celestial fixes.
But ST BARNUM was generally running on schedule. [9]
The news got even better when the Nam Tso team -- on the run since
September 1959 -- reached the Nepalese border and couriered word to
Darjeeling that it wanted a resupply. Lhamo Tsering, who had been
deputized by Gyalo Thondup to manage agent operations from India on a
daily basis, quickly relayed the request to the Tibet Task Force.
Rejecting the plea, the CIA instead ordered the team to ex filtrate via
East Pakistan to Okinawa. Re-armed with carbines and recoilless rifles,
Nathan and six of his men (due to failing physical health, the two
older agents remained behind at Kadena) were loaded back aboard a
Hercules and dropped during the March full moon to augment the five-man
Amdo team that had shifted from Pembar. [10]
Not until the next month, April, did the CIA's luck finally run out. It
started out well enough, with two Hercules flights set for the
beginning of the lunar cycle. The first plane, with Doc Johnson as
pilot and Jack Stiles serving as first officer, departed without
incident at last light. The second, teaming William Welk and Al
Judkins, left Takhli fifteen minutes later.
Halfway to the target, things turned sour. Hitting an unexpectedly
heavy head wind, Jim Keck, one of two navigators in the lead plane,
took a radar fix and determined that they were more than forty-five
minutes behind schedule. Hearing this, Doc Johnson added power, and by
the time they approached the drop zone, they were only four minutes
late.
Head winds, however, were just part of their problem. Although April is
traditionally rain free in Tibet, 1960 proved the exception to the
rule. As the Hercules overflew the location where bonfires should have
been, all the crew saw was a thick blanket of clouds. Circling once in
frustration, Johnson made the decision to return home. As they had
burned an inordinate amount of fuel to make up for lost time on the way
into Tibet, his colleagues in the cockpit were keen to dump their cargo
to lighten the plane for the remainder of the journey. But reasoning
that the same strong head winds would provide equally strong tailwinds,
Johnson insisted on keeping the payload aboard.
That decision was nearly fatal. By the time they arrived near Takhli at
5: 30 the next morning, their fuel supply was almost exhausted. Worse,
April is the hottest month in Thailand, coming less than two months
before the summer monsoon, and farmers in the central part of the
kingdom traditionally slash and burn their fields then, prior to
planting a new crop. This throws into the sky a layer of haze the color
and consistency of chocolate milk, which is exactly what the crew saw
as they searched frantically for the lights of Takhli. Jack Stiles, who
was taking his turn at the controls for the return leg, put the plane
into a tight turn for a second pass. Two of the engines immediately
begin to sputter, then coughed back to life as the Hercules rolled out.
The engines started to die again during a third pass, prompting Stiles
to order crew members in the rear to put on their parachutes and
bailout. "It was probably not a bad idea," said Andy Andersen, one of
two kickers on the flight, "but none of us moved." [11]
Listening from the tarmac, Heinie Aderholt acted in desperation.
Locating a flare gun, he began firing red star clusters into the sky.
The idea worked: spotting a red glow lighting the bottom of the haze,
the crew took the plunge and emerged in clear skies near the airfield.
Only one engine was still running by the time they taxied to the end of
the runway. "My jaw was sore," remembers navigator Keck, "from all the
sticks of gum I was chewing." [12]
Hard luck, too, plagued the second flight of the night. Captain elk
also hit a head wind and found the drop zone covered with clouds. Like
Doc Johnson, he elected to return with his payload aboard. Unlike
Johnson, however, he believed that the emergency facilities at
Kurmitola were closer. The CIA retained a skeleton technical crew in
East Pakistan for just such contingencies and had even erected a non
directional beacon to help pilots vector toward the strip. Normally,
this would have been sufficient, since April in East Pakistan is
generally a month with humid temperatures but clear skies.
But in yet another exception to the rule, Kurmitola that night was hit
by an unseasonably early thunderstorm. Al Judkins was at the controls,
and as he dipped the Hercules for a landing, there was almost zero
visibility. At the last moment, the hangar flashed in the windshield,
prompting Judkins to reflexively jerk back on the controls to avoid a
collision. Doing what it could to help, the CIA team rushed several
jeeps out onto the tarmac, their headlights barely cutting into the
pounding rain.
As Judkins nosed downward for a second attempt, kickers Miles Johnson
and Richard "Paper Legs" Peterson braced for the worst. After a night
of jinxes, they finally got a break. As a bolt of lightning flashed
across the sky, the crew got a clear glimpse of the airstrip ahead and
aligned the plane. Landing hard, they taxied to the hangar with little
more than fumes left in the gas tanks. [13]
Though it had nearly lost two aircraft, ST BARNUM barely flinched. On
the following night, the same Takhli crew was rescheduled to deliver
its payload. Fearful of running into the same meteorological
complications, the airmen brainstormed ways of carrying more fuel as an
emergency reserve. Besides the internal wing tanks, they were already
slinging two extra pontoon tanks, as well as a special 2,000-gallon
bladder -- nicknamed a Tokyo Tank -- inside the cabin itself. But even
with these, the crew could not fly an evasive route to the target,
could not loiter, and, as the previous flights had dramatically proved,
could not afford to hit a strong head wind.
Showing some lateral thinking, they came up with an offbeat solution.
Reasoning that fuel is denser when chilled, the Air America crew topped
its tanks on the night of the mission and circled Takhli at 9,091
meters (30,000) feet. After determining that the gas was sufficiently
cold -- and dense -- they landed and began packing more fuel into the
extra tank space. Wet burlap was draped across the wings to keep the
tanks cool. Whether because of this or because the crew did not
encounter another head wind, the mission made it to Tibet and back with
fuel to spare. [14]
***
A key link in the CIA's Tibet supply program was a modest apartment
just north of the Washington city limits. By that time, Geshe Wangyal
had raised too many eyebrows roaming outside the original Zebra safe
house in his robes. "He would go into a Chinese restaurant," recalls
Tom Fosmire, "and the staff would all start bowing." [15]
To avoid uncomfortable questions from neighbors, the CIA elected to
shift its elegant interpreter to a new safe house farther outside the
capital. Shortly thereafter, the venerable Geshe, eager to spend more
time with his Buddhist disciples, gracefully exited the program for a
permanent return to New Jersey.
Though sad to see him go, the CIA had already located a willing
replacement. Tsing-po Yu, a recent Chinese immigrant who had lived part
of his life in Tibet and spoke the language like a native, began daily
commutes to the new safe house and proved adept at squeezing meaning
from the Tibet transmissions. The CIA, in turn, provided him with a
salary and an occasional favor. When his wife, a waitress at a local
Chinese eatery, was being seduced by a cook, the agency arranged for
immigration officials to raid the establishment and deport seven
illegal employees (including the problematic suitor). [16]
Because of his marital troubles and the long hours spent translating,
Yu had been granted leave during April when the two Tibet overflights
had their brushes with disaster. Filling in as his temporary
replacement was Mark, one of the three Tibetans serving as translators
at Hale. Alongside Mark was case officer John Gilhooley. Having
recently come off a tour in Burma, Gilhooley was holding the
headquarters job with the Tibet Task Force between field assignments.
Each morning, the young Tibetan would begin the process of converting
incoming number groups into coherent messages, which Gilhooley would
then convey to task force chief Roger McCarthy. Return messages would
go through the same process in reverse. Mark enjoyed the work but could
feel the growing sense of urgency among all those involved. There was
good reason for this: the approaching May rains on the Tibetan plateau
would make further resupply flights all but impossible until autumn. In
order to deliver as much equipment as possible before the weather
proved prohibitive, three C-130 flights were launched on two
consecutive nights at the end of the April lunar cycle. [17]
In the end, even this proved insufficient. Over the previous two
months, Pembar had been experiencing frequent probes by PLA infantry.
Just as the April full moon was waning, Beijing got serious. Pamphlets
were dropped from aircraft warning the rebels to cease contact with the
foreign reactionaries. After that, groups of five aircraft began
bombing runs while long-range artillery was brought forward. The
guerrillas -- conservatively estimated at a couple of thousand --
suffered horrific casualties.
The PLA was not finished. Placing blocking forces on three sides of the
guerrilla concentration, the Chinese set the forests on fire to flush
out the remaining partisans. Keeping together, the twelve CIA-trained
agents made an escape bid. Rather than running south toward India -- as
the PLA might have expected -- they attempted to evade north across the
Salween. "We thought it might be colder near Amdo," said Bruce, "and
the Chinese would not be able to tolerate the cold." [18]
But as they approached the river, its swift waters proved too hard to
ford. Complicating matters, their horses were growing weak from
insufficient food and were hobbled by broken horseshoes. Abandoning
their steeds, the dozen decided to reverse direction and weave their
way toward the southern border on foot. After a month of harrowing
encounters with the PLA, only five survivors reached Indian soil. [19]
The losses were even more horrific for the Amdo contingent. After
overrunning Pembar, the PLA shifted its full attention northwest near
the end of April. Under withering fire, Nathan, leader of the Amdo
augmentation team, radioed frantic messages that tank-led columns were
closing on their position. [20]
With few options available, the Tibet Task Force sanctioned an
emergency C-130 drop for the evening of 1 May. This promised to be
doubly risky: not only was the PLA massing in the area around the drop
zone, but the moonless night would make navigation much more
complicated. Captain Neese Hicks, who had been given a quick tutorial
in codes before being assigned as a radioman for the project, was ready
to board the Hercules at last light. Before he could do so, Major
Aderholt rushed over to the crew and told them that the mission was
scrubbed. [21]
Aderholt did not elaborate, but the reason for the abort was a mishap
in another CIA operation. That morning, a U-2 spy plane had departed
from an airfield in Pakistan for an overflight of the Soviet Union. En
route, Soviet air defense batteries had fired multiple surface-to-air
missiles in a shotgun configuration, disabling the aircraft with one of
the concussion blasts. Although the exact fate of the plane and its
pilot was not yet known to the CIA (it was several days before Moscow
revealed that the crewman, Francis Gary Powers, had been captured
alive), Washington quickly flashed a blanket prohibition against all
further aerial penetrations of the communist bloc. [22]
With its hands tied by the senior policy makers in the Eisenhower
administration, the Tibet Task Force was powerless to help its Tibetans
in their greatest hour of need. The radio near Amdo soon fell silent.
None of the twelve agents ever reached India. [23]"
Geir : I'll send two more pages right after this because I want to get
on with the rest of the frauds'pages on ABOL who have abused of
Buddhism for their own selfish erroneous goals.
Geir
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- MARKHAM
Back on 4 February, just as the Tibet Task Force thought it had settled
on a winning formula, CIA Director Dulles ventured to the White House
to brief top administration officials on the agency's Tibet operation
to date. He closed with an appeal for continuation of the project. His
audience was complicit in its silence, with only President Eisenhower
wondering aloud if the net results merited the effort involved. Might
not stoking the resistance, he posed, only invite greater Chinese
repression? Des FitzGerald, who had joined Dulles for the briefing,
spoke directly to the president's concern. There could be no greater
brutality, he assured those at the table, than that already inflicted
on the Tibetans. [1]
Still playing devil's advocate, Eisenhower turned to Secretary of State
Christian Herter and asked if his department held any reservations. Far
from it, responded Herter. Not only could the Tibetans offer" serious
harassment" of the Chinese, but a successful resistance would keep "the
spark alive in the entire area." Suitably convinced, Eisenhower granted
his consent for continuation of the Tibet operation. [2]
***
On the heels of the president's approval, Lhamo Tsering began
canvassing Darjeeling for a new batch of recruits. In short order, he
assembled half a dozen suitable Khampas. Departing India on 22 March,
the candidates followed the well-worn route through East Pakistan,
pausing in Kadena for thorough physical exams. By 2 April, they were in
Colorado, joining fifteen of their countrymen who had arrived the
previous November. [3]
Hale had changed little over the previous year of training. Still in
charge was Tom Fosmire. Zeke Zilaitis, back to experimenting with
rockets, had been promoted to his deputy. Gil Strickler, Patton's
former logistician, made irregular visits to assist with support from
Fort Carson.
In the field, Tony Poe and Billy Smith remained as tactical
instructors. Joining them was Don Cesare, a former marine captain with
a taste for chewing tobacco. This was not Cesare's debut with the
agency; he had previously served as a security officer for the U-2 spy
plane program. [4]
Other new faces included Joe Slavin and William Toler, two active-duty
cooks seconded from the U.S. Army. They were warmly welcomed not only
for their culinary talents but also for the fact that they freed the
CIA officers from kitchen duties. A third newcomer, Harry Gordon,
doubled as both project physician and medical instructor for select
Tibetan students.
Making the occasional appearance was another of Roger McCarthy's
logistical assistants on the Tibet Task Force, Harry Archer. A Virginia
Military Institute graduate from a moneyed family, Archer had entered
the Marine Corps in 1953 for a two-year stint. After switching to the
CIA, he served an initial tour on Saipan with McCarthy. The two again
came together on the Tibet project, where Archer earned a reputation as
a "gadget man."
"Harry would go to Abercrombie & Fitch," said fellow task force member
John Greaney, referring to the exclusive Manhattan outlet for pricey
camping equipment, "and procure the latest in cold- weather gear,
knives, and boots." Not all the purchases were appropriate. "He got us
a bunch of thumb saws," recalls Fosmire, "even though there was no wood
near most of our Tibet drop zones."
Given his marine background, it was Archer who lobbied for the Tibetans
to be rotated from Hale to the Marine Corps School at Quantico,
Virginia, for a change of pace. There was sound logic behind Archer's
proposal: Quantico at the time had a special cell that trained various
foreign groups in guerrilla warfare and small-unit tactics. The school
also had a pack-mule course where the marine instructors could teach
slinging a 75mm recoilless rifle, one of the more cumbersome weapons
being dropped inside Tibet. [5]
Escorted by McCarthy, an initial group of twelve Tibetans was flown
directly to the airstrip at Quantico in early 1960. There a five-man
marine team -- which was not privy to the students' nationality -- put
them through two weeks of instruction on everything from caches to
camouflage. Mark and Pete were on hand to provide translations.
Near the end of the cycle, the marines planned an elaborate ambush
exercise in which they would play the part of aggressors. On the night
before the drill was to start, however, six inches of snow hit northern
Virginia. Improvising, the aggressors grabbed white bed sheets and
threw them over their ambush position. "The exercise went off
perfectly," said Sergeant Willard "Sam" Poss, "and we were able to show
the students the need for versatility." [6]
Impressed by the training at Quantico, McCarthy sent a request up the
chain of command for the loan of two instructors. The Marine Corps was
agreeable, releasing both Poss and Staff Sergeant Robert Laber that
spring for temporary duty in Colorado. A Korean War veteran, Laber had
been involved in the final combat actions of that conflict; he had
since served as a heavy machine gun instructor before joining
Quantico's special training cell.
Training officer Sam Poss stands over the burned wreck of the
administration building
at Camp Hale fo1lowing an electrical short circuit. (Courtesy Sam Poss)
Upon their arrival at Hale, the two marines were in awe of the base's
diverse mini-armory, comprising both Western and communist bloc
weaponry. "We were to teach the Tibetans how to use these and maneuver
in a combat situation," said Poss. "This meant overcoming their first
instinct, which was to stand in a line and fire everything they had
until their bullets were finished, then pick up some rocks." [7]
Initially, Poss focused on map reading. Since the Tibetans were weak in
mathematics, special maps were adapted from dated World Airway charts.
Printed on cloth, they were simplified for the Tibetans by making both
magnetic north and true north the same.
Laber, meanwhile, spent his time at the rifle range. As both a former
machine gun instructor and a mortar section leader, he focused on
developing skills with both these weapons. Because Fosmire and Zilaitis
insisted on keeping the training as authentic as possible, blanks were
never used. This resulted in an embarrassing breach of security midway
through the dry summer. As Laber watched the Tibetans blaze away one
afternoon with white phosphorus rounds, one ricocheted into the tress.
In minutes, an entire hillside was in flames.
The CIA staff was now in a quandary. They could not cope with the fire
themselves, but inviting the Forest Service into the camp could expose
the project. There was really no choice. The Tibetans were rushed back
to their quarters and quarantined before the gates were opened to allow
in the fire trucks. It eventually took an entire week to bring the
blaze under control. The firefighters were instructed not to ask too
many questions, though they did remark that "strange inscriptions" in a
foreign language had been carved into some rocks. [8]
That incident aside, the Tibetans made good progress through late
summer. Groups of students were taken for overnight forays into the
hills with the tactical instructors, where they would call in
mountaintop resupply drops -- including a leaflet printing press
developed by the task force's resident scholar, Ken Knaus -- and radio
regular updates back to Ray Stark at base. And after word got back that
the Amdo contingent had been overrun with tanks, an old Sherman was
donated by Fort Carson for the students to practice both driving and
disabling. [9]
As graduation approached, the Tibetans were scheduled to showcase their
skills to a headquarters delegation led by Des FitzGerald. Joining him
was Gyalo Thondup, who was in the United States for what was becoming
an annual tour for consultations and to bolster international support
at the United Nations. The Hale staff had assembled some stands for
their guests and spent days rehearsing their demonstration. Recalls
Fosmire: "It ended with a mad minute attack on a 'Chinese' camp. All of
the weapons were used, even mortars. One camouflaged Tibetan with a
Bren was hiding near the reviewing stand and surprised everyone. When
the last mortar round landed, they looted the camp."
FitzGerald was delighted with the performance of what was widely
recognized as his favorite project. Given his own wartime experience in
Burma, he took the opportunity to quiz the Hale staff. "He was
particularly interested and impressed with our cache training,"
remembers Cesare. [10]
Although FitzGerald might have been deeply committed to it, trouble
loomed for the Tibet project. For one thing, all the airborne teams
operating inside Tibet during the first quarter of 1960 were wiped out
by late spring; sending more agents according to the same script no
longer seemed an enlightened idea. For another thing, the Eisenhower
administration was dragging its feet on lifting the prohibition against
overflights put in place after the downing of the U-2 in May. Not only
was Eisenhower still smarting from the diplomatic fallout from that
incident, but Washington was now backdrop to a tight presidential race
between Vice President Richard Nixon and Democratic Senator John
Kennedy. Political prudence dictated that potentially embarrassing
covert action -- particularly overflights -- be put on hold until after
the November election. [11]
The delay came at a bad time for the Tibet Task Force. The late fall
was good parachuting weather over Tibet. Moreover, there was concern
that morale among the Tibetans at Hale might fray if they got stranded
for an extended period. To keep them occupied, U.S. Army engineers were
dispatched to build a gymnasium alongside their Quonset huts. The CIA
also procured reels of television westerns and showed them every night.
A favorite was Cheyenne, then still in the midst of its eight-year run
with the hulking Clint Walker in the title role of an adventurer
roaming the post-Civil War West. Said Cesare, "The Tibetans even began
imitatingWalker's mannerisms around camp." [12]
The CIA instructors, too, were growing bored with the tedious weeks of
waiting. Billy Smith had already taken an opportunity for reassignment.
A gruff Tony Poe, who was losing patience with some of his fellow
officers, and disappointed that many of the Tibetans had taken up the
habit of cigarette smoking, left near year's end. The two marines also
made plans for a return to Quantico. [13]
But the biggest blow came when Tom Fosmire elected to join McCarthy
back at the task force desk in Washington. As the figurative heart of
the training project since its inception, he had connected with the
Tibetans more than any other CIA officer. Much of this had come about
while sitting around the campfire at night swapping tales and bonding
with his students. He recalls: "The Tibetans talked about going on
annual trade caravans into India. There was much competition to be the
first caravan of the season, because their goods were in highest demand
and they made the most money. This meant surviving things like
avalanches and bandits. They told me that once Tibet was free, they
were going to take me on the biggest caravan ever into Lhasa."
On the night before Fosmire was set to leave, he assembled all the
Tibetans and made the announcement. Instantly, tears began to flow.
Even when he tried to assure them that he would be working on the
program from Washington, it did no good. "We were all crying like
babies," said translator Mark. Choked with emotion, Fosmire took a
twenty-minute walk to clear his head. "We made a note never to tell
them again when one of us was leaving." [14]
***
With morale already low following Fosmire's departure, the project took
another hit in early November. By one of the closest margins in recent
presidential history, John Kennedy came out the winner. Although he had
been given a pair of confidential CIA briefings by CIA Director Dulles
prior to the election, Tibet had not been broached with the youthful
nominee. "I'll brief Nixon," Eisenhower was rumored to have told top
agency officials regarding Tibet, "but if the other guy wins, you've
got to do it." [15]
When Dulles again got a chance to speak with President-Elect Kennedy on
18 November, ten days after the vote, Tibet was penciled on the agenda,
but it never came up in conversation. Instead, the showdown with Cuba,
and the agency's plans to launch an invasion of that island, dominated
their talk. Even after Kennedy was inaugurated in early January 1961,
other foreign policy items grabbed the early spotlight. Besides Cuba,
the deteriorating situations in Laos and South Vietnam were making
headlines, relegating Tibet far down the priorities list.
Not until a snowy day in mid-February did things begin to change.
Fosmire, who had been minding the quiet Tibet desk through the winter,
remembers: "Bill Broe, the deputy chief of the Far East Division,
stormed into the office with ice in his hair. He took off his jacket
and waved a slip of paper. It was our permission to resume." [16]
That permission followed from a 14 February decision by Kennedy's top
foreign policy advisers -- his so-called Special Group -- to continue
the covert Tibet operation started under the previous administration.
[17]
It had been almost a year since the last agent drop. With clear skies
over Tibet, the task force moved to seize the moment. Even though the
earlier airborne teams had met with only limited success -- and the
concept of blind drops had been a complete bust during other agency
operations in places such as China, Albania, and Ukraine -- plans were
drawn up for yet another parachute infiltration. [18]
The CIA's Tibet officers had reason to ignore their poor airborne track
record and opt for the same tired formula. One of its agent trainees at
Hale, a young Khampa named Yeshi Wangyal, was easily among the most
capable Tibetans to pass through its gates. Known as "Tim" during his
tenure in Colorado, he hailed from the town of Markham. Located between
the Mekong and Yangtze Rivers, Markham had repeatedly attracted
attention during years past. Early in the twentieth century, it had
been the scene of seesaw battles as Chinese and Tibetan armies wrestled
for control of Kham, with the Han more often than not coming up short.
Markham had still been under Lhasa's sphere of influence in 1950, but
it fell as one of the initial targets of the PLA invasion. This did
little to extinguish the zeal of the town's residents. Although the
Kham of neighboring Lithang may have headlined the top ranks of the
Chushi Gangdruk resistance when it formed in 1956, sons of Markham were
among the budding rebellion's other prominent partisans. [19]
The Kham region showing the extent of Chinese highway construction,
circa 1960
Markham was significant on other counts. For one thing, it sat at the
terminus of a second drivable road the Chinese were building across
Kham, and the CIA remained committed to disrupting Beijing's logistical
flow. For another thing, not only were guerrillas around Markham still
confounding the Chinese as of late 1960 (according to reports reaching
India), but one of the rebel chieftains was none other than Tim's
father. Therefore, parachuting Tim back into his hometown would not
exactly be a blind drop.
To increase Tim's chances of success, he was allowed to pick his own
team-mates from among the candidates at Hale. Selected as deputy team
leader was Bhusang, a thirty-two-year-old former medical student from
Lhasa who went by the call sign "Ken." Five others -- Aaron, Collin,
Duke, Luke, and Phillip -- also made the cut. [20]
During the last week of March 1961, the seven began their long return
journey from Colorado. Escorting them was translator Mark and CIA
officer Zilaitis, who had been promoted to training chief following
Fosmire's departure. After a three-night delay at Takhli due to
unseasonably bad weather, the team boarded a C-130A as the sun set on
31 March. [21] Mark, who was the same age as Tim and had grown close to
him during training, was bawling on the tarmac. Tim, his voice choked,
passed on a request for Lhamo Tsering to take care of his young bride.
[22]
Inside the cockpit, the Air America crew refamiliarized themselves with
the controls. It had been nearly a year since they flew the last
Hercules drop, and the company had few aviators to spare, given its
busy flying schedule for the rapidly expanding CIA operation in nearby
Laos. Smoke jumpers, too, were at a premium, with only Miles Johnson
and Paper Legs Peterson assigned to Asia in early 1961; all their
fellow smoke jumpers-cum-kickers were in Latin America working on the
imminent CIA paramilitary invasion of Cuba. [23]
Roaring down the runway, the aircraft rose slowly on its journey toward
Kham. At 2300 hours, under a full moon, the green light flashed in the
cabin. Seven men and cargo exited the side doors. The battle for
Markham was about to heat up.
***
Assembling on the ground undetected, the agents had no problem locating
their supplies. Though this might have been cause for celebration, Tim
was far from happy. Landing among rocks, one of his teammates, Aaron,
was cringing in pain with a dislocated shoulder. Worse, by sunrise he
made the unwelcome discovery that the Hercules had significantly
overshot the intended drop zone. Their current position, he calculated,
was due west of the town of Gonjo. Like Markham, numerous skirmishes
had been fought around Gonjo during the first half of the twentieth
century as the Chinese and Tibetans vied for control. The difference,
Tim noted with concern, was that Gonjo was more than 100 kilometers
north of his hometown.
Resting through the afternoon of the second day, the team prepared for
the long walk south. Given Aaron's shoulder, their supplies were
divided among the six healthy members. The remaining evidence of their
drop -- parachutes and rigging materials -- was placed atop a pyre of
wood and brush. They struck a match to the tinder and then set off at
dusk up the first mountain between them and Markham. [24]
By dawn on the third day, the team had reached the summit. Looking
back, they could still see smoke hanging in the air from their bonfire.
It was not until the next morning, after putting sufficient space
between themselves and the drop zone, that the agents paused to send an
initial radio message back to the Tibet Task Force, reporting the
navigational error and their intended movement.
Even though the agents were tired and hungry, their journey over the
first five days was trouble free. On day six, things started to change.
Pausing near sunset, they spied ten PLA soldiers and a Khampa guide in
the process of concealing an observation post near the crest of a
nearby hill. Not knowing if this was a coincidence or if their presence
was suspected, Tim ordered the team to detour into the bush and cache
those supplies not deemed vital, such as a mimeograph machine and an
inflatable rubber raft the CIA had provided for crossing the rivers
that bracketed Markham.
Patrolling forward, Tim and Ken made a two-man reconnaissance over the
next hill and detected no other Chinese. The team continued its trek
under cover of darkness. After one week of slow, careful movement, they
could at last see Markham in the distance. Between them was a green
valley pockmarked with the black, rounded tents used by herdsmen and
traders. Though their goal was almost within reach, by that point, the
agents had completely exhausted their rations and were thinking of
little other than their stomachs. Leaving four members behind, Tim,
Aaron, and Phillip crept toward the nearest tent in a bid to procure
food.
At the last moment, Tim called a halt. By sheer coincidence, he
recognized the occupant as a servant of his father. Approaching
cautiously, Tim offered greetings and asked the servant of his father's
whereabouts. The news was heart wrenching: he had been killed during a
battle with the Chinese a few months earlier. Two other local
chieftains had inherited his command, said the servant, and had
continued to resist near Markham until their food stocks were depleted;
both were now hiding with their guerrillas in the neighboring hills.
When asked, the servant admitted that locals had heard the aircraft
that dropped Tim, and the Chinese had deployed patrols as a result.
[25]
Tim knew that he needed to act with discretion, if not suspicion. But
still without rations, he imposed on the servant to convey a request
for one of the rebel leaders to rendezvous with tea bricks, yak butter,
and tsampa (ground roasted barley, a Tibetan staple). This meeting took
place as scheduled, and although Tim received warm embraces and the
customary deference afforded the son of a martyred chieftain, there was
no mistaking an undercurrent of strain.
By day ten, the team arranged for a meeting with another local chief.
Again, pleasantries were tempered by palatable tension. It was fast
becoming apparent that the agents were seen by some as an invitation
for a Chinese crackdown. Persisting, Tim was finally taken to the
forest redoubt where the remnants of his father's guerrilla band were
holed up. Women and children were among the weary partisans, including
Tim's sister. They were a sad sight, with food in short supply and
footwear in tatters.
Tim used the opportunity to pass on statements of encouragement from
the Dalai Lama, and he tried to breathe life back into his crowd by
speaking about the material support he was set to receive from the
United States. As proof, he sent four of his agents to the cache site
to recover their hidden supplies. On the way back, they left leaflets
urging all tsampa-eaters (a euphemism for Tibetans, as opposed to Han
rice-eaters) to remain vigilant against Chinese attack.
Over the following week, the rebel chieftains weighed Tim's exhortation
back to arms and then called an emergency meeting in his absence.
Despite the promise of foreign support, more than five years of
fighting had taken a heavy toll. Exile was now utmost on their minds,
not ratcheting up the war against China.
Deputy team leader Ken, who was present at the meeting, tried to stem
the tide. Their orders, he noted, were to ex filtrate only after
exhausting all means of resistance. The rebels were hardly swayed; they
were intent on heading for India.
By that time, the team had been on the ground for twenty-four days.
After the conclusion of the emergency session, a radio message was sent
notifying the Tibet Task Force about the impending rebel exodus from
the hills around Markham. When no immediate reply was forthcoming, the
agents saw little choice but to join them.
They did not get far. News of the team had invariably spread across the
Markham countryside, and it was only a matter of time before local
informants tipped off the PLA. Together with pro-communist Khampa
militiamen, Chinese troops closed in on the guerrilla concentration
just as they started to move. Nine separate engagements were fought
over the course of the first day. The agents sought refuge deeper in
the forest, but not before the Chinese onslaught killed Collin and
Duke. Cranking up their radio, the survivors had time to tap out a
brief message. Recalls Mark, who was helping with translations in
Washington at the time, "It was an SOS."
Taking along fewer than two dozen guerrillas and dependents, the
remaining team members slipped through the PLA cordon and for a time
shook off their pursuers. Over the next three days, they attempted to
rest. But again, their hunger pangs were overwhelming. After nearly
running into a Chinese patrol the following morning, they left the
forest to approach a lone herdsman. Upon seeing the guerrillas, the
shepherd turned over a yak and hurried from the scene. Ignoring
tradecraft, the famished agents butchered and cooked the animal on the
spot, then ate until they were full.
The PLA was not far behind. Having corralled the rebels toward a
mountain, the Chinese repeated their Pembar strategy of establishing
blocking positions and flushing them out by setting the forest ablaze.
With no alternatives, the agents and a handful of partisans left the
protection of the trees and scurried up the bare slope in the dark. The
Chinese had already circled atop the summit, allowing no escape.
As the sun rose, Ken took account of their bleak situation. "It was
like a dream, unreal," he later commented. Squeezed behind boulders,
Tim's sister and two other children could be heard weeping loudly.
Aaron and Luke were huddled behind another rocky outcropping, Tim and
Phillip behind a third. As the Chinese leapfrogged closer, they fired
an occasional rifle shot and called for surrender. "Eat shit!" the
Tibetans yelled back defiantly.
By 1000 hours, the Chinese had maneuvered within a stone's throw.
Surging forward, they grabbed the three bawling children. Ken fingered
the cyanide ampoule hanging from a necklace around his neck. The
previous night, the agents had agreed to commit suicide after firing
their last shot. Seeing no movement from Aaron and Luke, Ken assumed
that both had already taken their lives.
Craning his head toward his remaining colleagues, Ken caught a glimpse
of Tim frantically motioning toward his ampoule with sign language.
Uncertain if this was a call to commit suicide in unison, Ken
tentatively placed the cyanide in his cheek. Seconds later, a Chinese
soldier leaped from behind and planted a rifle butt on the back of his
skull. Knocked unconscious before he could bite down on the ampoule,
Ken was bound and led away to a prison cell in Markham. He was the only
survivor of the seven and would not see freedom for another seventeen
years.
***
Although the CIA did not have immediate confirmation of the fate of Tim
and his team, the desperate tone of their last radio message spoke
volumes. It was glaringly apparent: the task force needed a new
strategy."
Geir
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- MUSTANG
Well before the parachute drop at Markham, the seeds of a new Tibet
strategy were germinating. The impetus for this had come from NVDA
chief Gompo Tashi and from Lhamo Tsering, Gyalo Thondup's able
lieutenant in Darjeeling, who watched with concern as thousands of
able-bodied Tibetan men were siphoned from Indian refugee camps and
channeled into road construction gangs to help offset mounting aid
costs. Some 4,000 ended up in Sikkim alone, where they were over- seen
by a special relief committee headed by Princess Kukula. [1]
Dispersing Tibetan manpower in this way put the two leaders in a
quandary. Although having the refugees work on road construction was
better than letting them languish in camps, employing large numbers of
men as laborers sapped energy from the dream of retaking their
homeland. Many of the displaced still clung to the hope of a resurgent
NVDA, particularly older partisans who itched for the chance to take up
arms one more time.
Although neither Gompo Tashi nor Lhamo Tsering were opposed to the idea
of a reborn guerrilla army, there was a serious geopolitical hurdle to
overcome. To properly refit any irregulars, they needed a secure
staging area. Given Nehru's continued desire to refrain from provoking
the Chinese leadership, use of India for this purpose was out of the
question. Similarly, Bhutan and Sikkim were too firmly under India's
thumb to consider their territory as host for a significant
paramilitary endeavor.
By default, that left Nepal. A lone Hindu kingdom in the Buddhist
Himalayas, Nepal was a study in selective nonalignment. For the first
eight years of India's independence, Kathmandu had tempered its
neutrality with a pro-Indian bias. At the same time, Nepal liked to
think of Tibet (with considerable hyperbole) as a kind of vassal and
not as part of China.
But in 1955, with the death of mild King Tribhuwan and the rise of
bolder son Mahendra, change was in the air. In an attempt to break what
he saw as overdependence on India and to diversify the kingdom's
foreign policy, the new king established diplomatic relations with the
PRC in 1956 and signed a Sino-Nepalese trade agreement that same year.
Although Kathmandu had moved a small step closer to Beijing -- and now
recognized the PRC's hold over Tibet -- Gompo Tashi and Lhamo Tsering
still had good reason to see Nepal as an attractive stepping-stone into
their homeland. First, transportation difficulties and sharp ethnic
differences meant that Kathmandu's grip barely reached outside the
capital. Second, Nepal was already home to a large number of recent
Tibetan arrivals. Estimates placed the number of refugees at 20,000
during the first two years of the Dalai Lama's exile. Of these, many
were from the western reaches of Tibet and sought sanctuary in Nepal's
most remote border areas, where Kathmandu's writ was rarely heard, much
less acknowledged. [2]
Third, one corner of Nepal -- the enclave of Mustang -- was for all
intents and purposes part of Tibet. The highest kingdom in the world
(with an average altitude of 3,758 feet), Mustang encompassed 1,943
square kilometers of arid gorges and cliffs centered along Nepal's
northern border. Surrounded on three sides by Tibet, its population and
culture were entirely Tibetan Buddhist. It had never been conquered by
Nepal and, located north of the Himalayas, intuitively should have been
incorporated under Lhasa's control. But after an eighteenth-century
debt swap among highland royalty, Mustang passed to Nepal as a loose
tributary. [3]
Nepal could be forgiven for hardly noticing its new territorial
addition. Led by its own line of kings dating back to the fourteenth
century, Mustang consisted of just twelve large villages and the walled
capital of Lo Monthang, where a modest palace was centered in a maze of
temples and homes for 800 residents. Though it had once been prosperous
-- thanks to its command over the salt trade into western Tibet --
Mustang had degenerated into a backwater after competing principalities
to the south broke that monopoly in 1890.
Despite its impoverishment, Mustang retained something more important:
its autonomy. Even when Kathmandu insisted on the disbandment of other
royal fiefdoms within its borders, Mustang alone was allowed to keep
its king. In return for a token annual tribute of two horses and
forty-five British pounds, Lo Monthang enjoyed near complete leeway in
running its own affairs. [4]
Besides its quasi-independence, there were other reasons for Lhamo
Tsering and Gompo Tashi to favor Mustang. First, it was there that the
Lithang Khampa team had fled in late 1959 after its abortive mission to
Nam Tso; in messages sent back to Darjeeling, the agents had reported
that their ethnic kin were generally supportive. Second, the border
between Mustang and Tibet did not have any high passes blocked by snow
in winter. Third, although its climate was dry and the land largely
infertile, there was a handful of valleys with enough tree cover to
camouflage a guerrilla encampment during the summer. Fourth, its remote
location kept it out of range of foreign visitors; only one Western
interloper had ever set foot in the region as of 1960. And if that were
not enough, a divination arranged by the two leaders confirmed the
choice of Mustang as a good one. [5]
Nepal
Although Gompo Tashi and Lhamo Tsering (who, it was understood, carried
Gyalo's consent) were swayed that Mustang was a sure bet for a
guerrilla sanctuary, the United States had to be convinced. Traveling
to Calcutta in February 1960 to meet with CIA liaison officers, the two
lobbied for support of their Nepal plan. At the time, Washington's
relations with Kathmandu could only be described as cool and proper.
This was largely due to King Mahendra's engagement policy of playing
off the major powers, milking aid from all but not endearing himself to
any. Had the United States requested permission from Mahendra to use
Mustang, it is unlikely that it would have been granted. [6]
But the question was never asked. Just as Gompo Tashi and Lhamo Tsering
had calculated, poor transportation and communication networks severely
curtailed the Nepalese government's extent of control. "Most ministers
had never seen their own country," noted one American aid worker who
served there in 1960." [7] Concluded Ralph Redford, the CIA station
chief in Kathmandu, "The king's permission was not necessarily
required." [8]
Once word of the pitch from the two Tibetans reached Washington, the
CIA's task force officers quickly concurred that a modest guerrilla
operation staged from Mustang had merit and would not irreparably harm
U.S.-Nepal relations. Gompo Tashi was given approval in March to begin
the process of identifying candidates to lead the paramilitary force.
Rushing north to Kalimpong, the ailing chieftain beckoned seven senior
NVDA officers for three days of intense discussion. Informed of the
pending Mustang operation, they were told to choose a field commander
from among their number. Even for a people used to a challenging
lifestyle, the assignment promised to be a hardship tour. Gompo Tashi,
though the logical choice, was ineligible because he required too much
rest and care. Similarly, six others withdrew themselves from
consideration due to age or poor fitness or because they had
dependents.
The only one remaining, forty-three-year-old Baba Yeshi, received their
unanimous support. As suggested by his name, Baba Yeshi hailed from the
central Kham town of Raba (now called Bathang). Due to its relatively
low altitude, Bathang was an early target for Han colonization and had
even attracted French missionaries during the early twentieth century.
The locals had strongly resisted these ethnic and religious incursions.
The missionaries ultimately withdrew after several priests were
executed, but the Chinese battled back and held on until mid century.
By the time of the 1956 uprising, the Khampas of Bathang were primed to
explode. Among the first to revolt, they courted a harsh PLA response.
Chinese aircraft rained down bombs, paying special attention to
monasteries. One such destroyed temple was the home of Raba Yeshi, who
had entered the priesthood at age eight and took his vows at eighteen.
Though from a poor family, the monk had shown a talent for trading
cloth and had amassed respectable savings. Predicting more Chinese
attacks to come, he gathered his inventory and made his way to the
safer climes of Kalimpong.
The respite was not to last. By mid-1958, word of the newly christened
NVDA quickly filtered down to India. Prodded by other exiles, Baba
Yeshi agreed to return to Tibet on the pretext of a pilgrimage. His
real purpose was to help raid an armory near the Nepalese border. He
attempted to do so, but the Tibetan army held firm and refused to
release the weapons. Dejected, he headed toward Drigu Tso lake to link
up with Gompo Tashi, only to find that the chieftain had already
shifted to the north.
Baba Yeshi, the first commander of Mustang. (Courtesy Roger MacCarthy)
He remained in the vicinity of Drigu Tso, and by the fall of 1958, Baba
Yeshi was elected leader of a large, albeit quiet, NVDA sector. By his
own admission, they accomplished little. "I had no military
background," he later recounted, "and just one in ten of my guerrillas
had a weapon." Their biggest excitement came the following spring, when
they received couriered orders to secure the area north of the lake
during the passage of the fleeing Dalai Lama. [9]
Not until after the Dalai Lama reached India did Baba Yeshi at long
last rendezvous with Gompo Tashi. But by that time, the NVDA chief was
also on his way to exile. Baba Yeshi joined him and crossed the border,
where he stewed in a refugee camp for the next eight months.
Frustrated by the boredom and the heat, the monk finally saw an
opportunity for action in December 1959. With Eisenhower set to make
the first visit to India by a U.S. president, he and fourteen other
Khampa leaders rushed down to New Delhi and stood along Eisenhower's
motorcade route in an attempt to hand him a letter calling for U.S.
support. Not surprisingly, the Khampas came nowhere close to getting an
audience with the visiting dignitary. Dejected again, Baba Yeshi
returning to the steaming refugee camp and was still there when he got
the call from Gompo Tashi to come to Kalimpong.
When he learned of the impending Mustang operation -- and got the
unanimous support of his peers to lead it -- Baba Yeshi was more than a
little apprehensive. He was the first to admit that he had no formal
military training. And despite his years studying Buddhist scripture,
his writing skills were poor.
There was also the controversy surrounding his hometown, Bathang. Owing
to its long occupation by the Chinese, Bathang was infamous for its
Khampa sympathizers and informants. Bathang also hosted a large number
of Muslim Hiu, many of whom had assisted Beijing in battles against
tile Tibetan resistance. This, plus petty rivalries with neighboring
towns such as Lithang, gave Bathang residents the reputation for being
antagonistic toward their countrymen. [10]
But Baba Yeshi had other qualities that offset such deficiencies. In a
culture not known for oratory, he was renowned as an articulate public
speaker who exuded emotion and could even bring up tears on cue. As a
monk, he had no dependents. And he was also known for his keen ability
to anticipate and resolve problems within his ranks. "He was nicknamed
Cat," said one of his subordinates, "because he would pounce on trouble
like catching a mouse." [11]
Upon confirmation of Baba Yeshi as overall leader, Gompo Tashi and
Lhamo Tsering made the rounds of the various refugee camps to select
another two dozen candidates to serve as a U.S.-trained officer cadre
for the guerrilla force. The choice was limited to NVDA veterans
without dependents and in good physical condition. To maximize clan
coverage, no more than two men were chosen from each large district
(such as Lithang), and only one from small districts. [12]
When the final cut was made in May, twenty-seven candidates had
assembled in Darjeeling. Reflecting the composition of the NVDA, as
well as the makeup of the refugee pool, only two were from Amdo; the
rest were from Kham. Most were in their mid-thirties, although four
were close to fifty years of age. They were told the nature of their
assignment in general terms, but not the location. [13]
Before getting to Mustang, there remained the matter of training.
Escorted by Lhamo Tsering to the East Pakistan frontier, the
twenty-seven approached the rain-swollen river defining the border.
They crossed it with difficulty and were deluged by heavy June rains
for the entire bus and train ride to Dacca. Not until one week later
were they back in their element among the mountains of Colorado. [14]
As leader of the Mustang force, Baba Yeshi had a whirlwind schedule
prior to departure for the front. First was a plane ride to meet CIA
representatives in Calcutta, followed by a stop in Darjeeling for an
audience with Gyalo Thondup. After that was a trip to Siliguri to
rendezvous with two CIA-trained Tibetan radio operators. [15]
Then came the long trek into Nepal. From Siliguri, the monk and two
radiomen -- plus a Tibetan guide provided by Gyalo -- took a train west
to the Indian city of Gorakhpur, then a bus north to Kathmandu. There
they rented a room near the huge Swayambhunath stupa, one of the
holiest Buddhist shrines in Nepal, situated atop a hillock on the
capital's western outskirts.
For two weeks, they waited near the stupa. Unknown to the Tibetans, a
storm brewing within the CIA was causing delays. So as not to burden
Baba Yeshi with heavy equipment during his trip into Nepal, the Tibet
Task Force had intended to pass him three radio sets after his arrival
in Kathmandu. Kenneth "Clay" Cathey, a CIA officer based in Calcutta,
had been charged with overseeing the transfer. Helping him would be Ray
Stark, the former Hale radio instructor beckoned from an assignment in
Manila. [16]
Unfortunately for Cathey and Stark, the CIA station in Nepal was doing
all it could to stymie the transfer plan. Backed by Near East Division
colleagues in New Delhi and at headquarters, station chief Redford
opposed the scheme because he did not want to risk exposure on his home
turf. Only after explicit instructions from the office of Director
Dulles did the Nepal embassy reluctantly cooperate.
Following this high-level directive, the three radios arrived in
Kathmandu in a diplomatic pouch. To make them portable, Stark helped
break them into forty smaller loads. Cathey then procured some plain
burlap and, because the station chief refused to lend his men to
assist, was forced to spend an extra day wrapping the equipment on his
own.
By that time, Lhamo Tsering and another Tibetan radioman had arrived in
Kathmandu to help with the radio delivery. Because it was too risky to
have Baba Yeshi come to the embassy, they needed to bring the gear to
him. The station chief, still intent on obstructing the plan, insisted
on using a taxi, but Cathey eventually persevered in getting loan of an
embassy jeep.
That night, Cathey, Lhamo Tsering, and the radioman drove with the
dissembled communication equipment to a darkened corner of the
Swayambhunath stupa. Baba Yeshi, his two radiomen, and eighteen more
Khampas that had joined the party made the rendezvous. There they split
in two, with a pair of the radiomen and twelve of the Khampas securing
the radios on their backs and setting off on foot in the direction of
Mustang.
After giving them a five-day lead, Baba Yeshi, the remaining radioman,
and six other Khampas attempted to get plane tickets for Pokhara, 130
kilometers west of Kathmandu and just south of Mustang. But to Baba
Yeshi's chagrin, the sales representatives for Royal Nepal Airlines
were extremely suspicious, even after the monk showed Tibetan documents
that "proved" they were heading to Pokhara to help fellow refugees.
Such suspicion was understandable. Tibetan exiles were doing all they
could to leave Pokhara, not the other way around. There was also the
matter of increased tensions along the Sino-Nepalese frontier. Beijing
had recently closed its border to grazing on the Chinese side,
previously a common practice among Nepalese herders. More seriously, a
PLA patrol had crossed the border into Mustang during June, apparently
believing that it had spotted Khampa guerrillas. In the ensuing
skirmish, they killed a Nepalese soldier and took ten civilians
prisoner, sending a wave of panic through Lo Monthang. [17]
Ten days later they were still without plane tickets, and Baba Yeshi
and his men thought it prudent to leave the Nepalese capital. Making
their way back to Gorakhpur, they took a train northeast along the
border, then recrossed into Nepal from the frontier town of Bhadwar.
>From there, it was a five-day trek on foot to Pokhara. Fearful that the
Nepalese authorities might have been alerted, they wasted no time
walking another four days up narrow paths to the village of Tukuche.
In a kingdom full of breathtaking vistas, Tukuche ranked high among
them. Situated in a gap in the Himalayas where the Kali Gandaki River
flows through the Annapurna and Dhaulagiri Mountains, it is bracketed
by canyon walls rising five kilometers on either side. By the time Baba
Yeshi arrived there, the party that had departed Kathmandu on foot was
already waiting in tents and had established radio contact with
Darjeeling. [18]
Hearing of the successful rendezvous at Tukuche, Lhamo Tsering
assembled the first group of guerrilla prospects from the Indian
refugee camps. Earlier, Gompo Tashi had talked in terms of eventually
building a 2,100-man force, but the CIA had approved support for only
400. Making the selection at Darjeeling, Lhamo Tsering gave each
approved recruit a pair of shoes and a small rupee stipend to pay for
food on the trip through Nepal. It was a relatively old crowd, with
most close to forty years of age. Nearly all were Khampas.
Very quickly, word of the recruitment flashed among the refugees. What
was supposed to be a clandestine shift of personnel suddenly became a
very public one. On 1 August, the Indian media in Calcutta reported on
the mysterious exodus of Tibetan men out of Sikkim. By early fall,
Lhamo Tsering's 400 approved candidates were joined in Nepal by 200
unapproved Tibetans; several hundred others were on the way. [19]
With Tukuche fast growing crowded, Baba Yeshi sent three men north to
make a ten-day reconnaissance trek for suitable locations inside
Mustang. By October, they had returned with a pair of recommendations.
The first was Yara, little more than a cluster of earthen huts situated
in a fertile valley dotted with conifers and tucked under a massive
cliff honeycombed with caves. The second, twelve kilometers southwest
of Yara, was Tangya. Sited in one of the lowest valleys in Mustang, it
was packed with barley fields and, like Yara, was in the shadow of an
imposing cliff eroded like the flutes of an organ. Both were east of
the Kali Gandaki and several days' hike from the other major villages
in Mustang. [20]
Baba Yeshi started dispatching recruits to the Yara valley. In
November, he himself made the shift from Tukuche to Tangya. With no
weapons, a handful of tents, and little food, the prospective
guerrillas and their leader settled in for the long, cold winter. [21]
***
On the other side of the world at Camp Hale, the Mustang leadership
cadre spent the winter of 1960-1961 training alongside the agent team
destined for Markham. Despite the advanced age of several in the group,
the twenty-seven were put through all their paramilitary paces. No
problems were encountered -- with one near-fatal exception. Prior to
making actual airborne jumps at Fort Carson, the Tibetans practiced in
a training rig at Hale nicknamed Suspended Agony. It consisted of
webbing hanging from a makeshift iron frame, and the students needed to
climb a ramp to get into the parachute harness.
Suspended Agony had worked well with earlier classes, but by the time
the Mustang group arrived, it was showing its age. Unfortunately for
Namgyal, a forty-five-year-old Bathang native who went by the call sign
"Sampson," the iron frame decided to snap while he was in it. Dropping
two meters to the ground, Sampson collapsed as the metal sliced into
his forehead, exposing his skull. [22]
The CIA instructors rushed to the side of the unconscious Sampson,
loaded him into a station wagon, and sped him to the army hospital at
Fort Carson. There the doctors did not give him a good prognosis.
"There was no way we could bring the body back to Tibet," said Sam
Poss, "so talk shifted to getting lime and burying him back at Hale."
But it never came to that. Showing far more resilience than the doctors
thought possible, Sampson made a miraculous recovery. Returning to
Hale, he eventually completed his airborne training in the spring of
1961.
By that time, his peers had graduated and been fully briefed on their
impending mission to Mustang. The CIA's task force officers had been
particularly impressed by Lobsang Jamba, a forty-year-old Lithang
Khampa using the call sign "Sally." According to revised plans, Sally
would parachute into Mustang and assume the role of field commander
inside Tibet; Baba Yeshi, meanwhile, would be relegated to
administrative chief at the Tangya rear base. [23]
Back in Nepal, Baba Yeshi had not yet been informed of this new
leadership arrangement. His attention had been fixated on the dire food
situation at his guerrilla camp. As longtime Mustang residents well
knew, the infertile kingdom could not stockpile enough food to feed all
its people through winter. For that reason, just 35 percent of the
population of Lo Monthang (primarily the elderly) remained in town
year-round; the remainder migrated for the coldest months down to
Pokhara. [24]
When Baba Yeshi showed up at Tangya in November 1960, neither he nor
his men at Yara had brought any food with them. They also carried
little cash to purchase tsampa and other essentials. And even if they
had brought money, more than 1,000 would-be guerrillas had assembled at
Yara by year's end, far out-stripping the amount of staples that valley
could produce. Very quickly, malnutrition reached critical levels. In
desperation, more than a few boiled shoe leather for a meal. [25]
Compounding matters, the CIA still did not have permission to make a
supply drop, due to the prohibition against overflights following the
U-2 affair. And if that were not enough, the new Kennedy administration
was divided over whether the Mustang plan should even proceed. Heading
the resistance was the new U.S. ambassador to India, John Kenneth
Galbraith. A Canadian immigrant, Galbraith was an influential name in
liberal circles. As a former Harvard professor of Keynesian economics,
price czar during World War II, and editor of Fortune magazine, he had
been an adviser to all Democratic presidents since Franklin Roosevelt.
A prolific writer, Galbraith was renowned for his eloquent prose. He
was also known for his grand ego, and as part of Kennedy's Harvard
brain trust, he considered himself a logical pick for secretary of
state.
But Kennedy had other ideas. It was widely known that both he and
Galbraith shared a strong pro- India bias. As senator, Kennedy had
spoken of India as a key to Asia. An economically strong India, went
his argument, would be an essential showpiece for democracy in the
Third World and a fitting challenge to Chinese communism in Asia.
Although Eisenhower had stopped seeing Indian neutralism as evil by
1958, and his 1959 trip to New Delhi had been a resounding success,
Kennedy felt that his predecessor had all but lost India through the
misplaced goal of cultivating Pakistan. [26]
Based on this conviction, Kennedy was quick to place several well-known
India supporters in important positions. Chester Bowles, a former
ambassador in New Delhi, had been his foreign policy adviser during the
campaign. Phillips Talbot, a scholar-journalist who specialized in
things Indian, became assistant secretary of state for Near East and
South Asian affairs. And on 29 March 1961, Galbraith was appointed the
new ambassador to India.
Shortly before his departure for New Delhi, the ambassador-designate
went to CIA headquarters for a briefing on intelligence operations in
India, as well as on the fledgling guerrilla force in neighboring
Nepal. Heading the briefing was Richard Bissell, chief of covert
operations, who, like Galbraith, had once been an Ivy League professor
of economics. Joining Bissell was Far East chief Des FitzGerald, the
Tibet operation's most die-hard and senior proponent, and James
Critchfield, FitzGerald's counterpart in the Near East Division. [27]
After reviewing the CIA's planned budget for throwing India's upcoming
elections, Galbraith was not amused. But it was upon hearing the
details of the Mustang scheme that Galbraith became livid. Pushing back
his chair, he stood up and glared at the CIA officers. "This sounds
like the Rover Boys at loose ends," said the soon-to-be diplomat before
stalking out. [28]
Galbraith's seething opposition was apparently grounded in his belief
that the Tibet operation's benefits -- especially from the Mustang
component -- did not outweigh the risk of harm to Indo-U.S. relations.
He was especially sensitive to U.S. violations of Indian airspace in
the extreme northeast during resupply flights, which he felt were as
potentially destructive as the U-2 affair. Galbraith further claimed
that his predecessor, Ellsworth Bunker, strongly shared his opposition.
[29]
The new ambassador was overstating fears, if not inventing a few. Had
Ambassador Bunker indeed been opposed during his tenure, he had never
protested too loudly. The Indians, too, seemed more than willing to
turn a blind eye on the CIA's cavorting with the Tibetans. In 1960, B.
N. Mullik, head of the Indian Intelligence Bureau, and Richard Helms,
the CIA's chief of operations for the Directorate of Plans, had met
discreetly during an Interpol conference in Hawaii; at that time,
Mullik said that he endorsed the agency's efforts and wanted U.S.
overflights to continue. [30] Galbraith's real opposition, suspected
several in the CIA, was based as much on genuine diplomatic concerns as
on his anti-CIA slant, especially toward an operation initiated during
the previous Republican administration. [31]
But Galbraith was hardly alone. Even within the CIA, opposition to the
Tibet project was evident. This had less to do with arguments over the
operation's potential yield than turf battles between the agency's
geographic divisions. At the level of division chief, there was little
friction between the Far East's FitzGerald and the Near East's
Critchfield. For his part, Critchfield was largely indifferent toward
Tibet. A longtime Europe hand (he had started his agency career
handling Reinhard Gehlen, the former Nazi general co-opted by the CIA
for his anticommunist intelligence network) , Critchfield was an Asia
novice when he was picked by Dulles in late 1959 to command the Near
East. [32]
By that time, the Tibet Task Force was already making regular use of
India and East Pakistan. "I had zero veto power over the Tibet
operation," Critchfield recalled, "even when it involved overflights of
India." Only when Tibetan trainees were set to pass through Near East
territory in East Pakistan was he given a courtesy alert. [33]
Although Critchfield did not find this particularly problematic, the
same could not be said for others in his division. Heading that list
was the CIA station chief in New Delhi, Harry Rositzke. The
Harvard-educated professor and OSS alumni had been in India since May
1957. "Rositzke was strong minded, fast talking, and thought of himself
as a world thinker," said one case officer who served under him. "He
seemed to envision himself going back to Harvard one day, not as an
agency career man." [34]
The ambitious Rositzke did not appreciate hosting part of an operation
that earned him no credit in Washington but would leave him reaping bad
publicity if things went sour. "The Far East Division got all the
kudos," said one India case officer, "but the Near East Division risked
the potential embarrassment." [35]
Rositzke's displeasure with this arrangement was focused squarely on
the Far East Division's liaison officer in Calcutta, John Hoskins.
Since 1956, Hoskins had been point man for dealings with Gyalo Thondup.
As long as those dealings were low-key, New Delhi station had not
complained too loudly. But once the Dalai Lama went into exile and the
Tibet Task Force shifted into high gear, New Delhi's fear of a
diplomatic incident rose accordingly. Insistent that Hoskins minimize
any risk taking, the New Delhi station lobbied against his right to
dispatch cables directly to headquarters. As a compromise, it was
agreed that Hoskins would channel his communications through New Delhi,
although Rositzke was not allowed to alter or edit the contents.
Despite striking this deal, Hoskins could not help but feel that he was
under growing pressure. Even though he ultimately answered to the Far
East Division, it was the Calcutta chief of base -- a Near East officer
-- who wrote his annual performance reviews, which carried a lot of
weight when it came to promotions. Fearful that his career would
suffer, he approached the Near East Division in the summer of 1959 and
asked if he could keep his Calcutta post but transfer under its mantle.
With the request quickly approved, Hoskins continued to handle Gyalo,
but now under Rositzke' s complete control.
Having lost its own representative in Calcutta, the Far East Division
was not about to concede in the turf war. In order to keep tabs on
Hoskins, in September 1959 it insisted on assigning a Far East officer
to the New Delhi embassy. That officer, Howard Bane, was senior to
Hoskins and in theory would act as the primary point of contact with
Gyalo. In addition, the CIA had started contributing a stipend for the
Dalai Lama and his entourage -- "providing them with rice and robes,"
said Hoskins -- and Bane was in charge of the purse. [36]
Very quickly, Bane began to experience the same pressures Hoskins had
endured before his transfer. Located within the same embassy as the
assertive Rositzke, Bane realized that his career interests hinged on
keeping the peace with the station chief. His muted cables back to the
Far East Division reflected this accommodation.
Back in Washington, FitzGerald fumed over not having an aggressive
division representative in India. In February 1960, he used his pull
with Dulles and successfully lobbied for the stationing of yet another
officer, this time to Calcutta to fill the gap left by Hoskins. Chosen
for the post was Vanderbilt doctoral graduate Clay Cathey. So as not to
repeat the "loss" of Bane, Cathey was briefed "up to his eyeballs" by
Tibet Task Force officers McCarthy and Greaney prior to his departure
the following month. "They reminded me that I worked for the Far East
Division," he said, "and not to do anything just because the Near East
tells me to."
As had the others before him, Cathey quickly felt the strain of the
interdivision rift over Tibet. Though he remained true to his division
("He was the only one who supplied us with good information," said
Greaney), Rositzke did not make the job easy. Every three months, the
station chief ordered him to New Delhi for an intense grilling session.
Cathey was extremely cautious about what he said, having been warned
that the testy former Harvard professor would use whatever he could to
shut down the project. "Rositzke did not see himself as a career man,"
explained Cathey, "so even if the Tibet program held favor with Dulles,
he felt no need to please the director. " [37]
***
Despite simmering opposition from the likes of Rositzke and Galbraith,
President Kennedy in the second week of March 1961 approved an initial
supply drop to Mustang. It was scheduled for the end of the month
during the full moon phase and would total 29,000 pounds of arms and
ammunition for 400 men. The bulk of the load was to consist of
bolt-action Springfield rifles, plus forty Bren light machine guns and
a mix of forty MI Garands and carbines.
Also included in the drop would be seven Hale graduates. Four were from
the pool of twenty-seven Mustang leaders, including field
commander-designate Sally. The remaining three were radiomen, all
ethnic Khampas. [38] They flew to Okinawa on the same plane as the
Markham team and then waited a week on the island for weather
conditions along the Nepal border to clear. Not until the last day of
March did they continue on to Takhli. Sally remembers his final
briefing: "The CIA said that the Chinese might have gotten to the drop
zone. If so, I was to use my Sten submachine gun. If I finished those
bullets, I was to use my pistol. If that was finished, I was to bite my
cyanide." [39]
Back at Tangya, Baba Yeshi's radiomen had already received word of the
impending drop. Eight hundred men, led by Baba Yeshi himself, shifted
fifteen kilometers northeast to the border, then another ten kilometers
deeper into Tibet. Given the snow and terrain, this translated into a
two-day trek. As they had no beasts of burden, 600 of this number were
to act as porters; the remaining 200, having borrowed a handful of
antiquated rifles from local herders, were to act as a paltry security
force in the event of a PLA attack. [40]
Once at the designated drop zone, the reception committee arranged
piles of yak dung to serve as fuel for flame signals. Unfortunately for
them, atmospheric conditions frustrated further radio contact with
Takhli for two days. With the seven agents and supplies grounded in
Thailand for an extra forty-eight hours, dozens among the 800 suffered
frostbite.
Not until the evening of 2 April did the radio prove cooperative, and
an all-clear signal was conveyed to the launch site. Due to the large
size of the load, supplies had been divided between two Hercules
transports. Even then, the seven agents barely had room to sit as they
boarded the first aircraft. This, combined with the extreme distance,
made for an exhausting albeit uneventful flight. Sighting the flame
signals on the ground, the Air America crews continued deeper into
Tibet, then circled around for a second pass.
In the rear, a nervous Sally was the first out the door. Landing in
snow up to his waist, he worked quickly to get clear of the pallets
that followed. Porters soon swarmed over the bundles, securing them on
their backs before beginning the arduous journey back to Mustang.
***
Although the drop was a success -- and the Indians had not indicated
any knowledge of, much less displeasure with, the brief intrusion into
their airspace- -- Ambassador Galbraith was more determined than ever
to close the Mustang project. Traveling to Washington in May, he played
on his rapport with Kennedy (who was already incensed with Dulles over
the Bay of Pigs fiasco in April) to lobby the president for an end to
what he saw as CIA interference. But even though the ambassador was
able to stop most of the agency's covert operations inside India, he
failed to put a damper on the Tibet project. [41]
Ironically, Galbraith was about to get an unlikely ally in the form of
the Pakistani government. During the course of the Eisenhower
presidency, the CIA had enjoyed cordial ties with Karachi. This
included permission to use not only East Pakistani territory for the
Tibet operation but also an airfield near the city of Peshawar as a U-2
launch site. Even when it was publicly revealed that the U-2 downed in
May 1960 had originated from that airfield, Karachi hardly registered
any protest over the resultant embarrassment.
But these warm ties looked set to change with the election of Kennedy
and the pro-India bias he brought to office. Pakistani concerns seemed
confirmed in April 1961 when Washington pledged a staggering $1 billion
in economic aid for India's upcoming five-year development plan. Even
more troubling for Karachi, the new administration, citing a threat
from China, agreed to sell 350 tanks to New Delhi at low rates.
Pakistan wanted to retaliate, but it saw few ready options. It could
not slam the door on Washington's military and economic assistance,
because there were few alternative sources of aid that matched U.S.
largesse. And it would do no good to withhold permission to use the
Peshawar air base, because U-2 flights were still suspended. With
little other choice, the Pakistanis closed their border for the Tibet
project.
For the Tibet Task Force, the timing could not have been worse.
Twenty-three Mustang leaders (the four others had jumped on 2 April)
were still at Hale awaiting word to return. Because the onset of the
monsoon season prevented further parachute drops until late in the
year, the CIA had intended to smuggle them through East Pakistan and
let them enter Nepal on foot. With Karachi's change of heart, however,
they were stranded in Colorado.
As it turned out, the agency saw a brief window of opportunity midway
through summer. Despite his strong leanings toward India, Kennedy was
unwilling to completely write off Pakistan. He had invited President
Ayub Khan to Washington for a weeklong visit beginning 11 July. On the
day of his arrival, the polished Pakistani leader and his daughter were
the guests of honor at picturesque Mount Vernon.
Seated between Kennedy and wife Jacqueline, Khan was feted during a
spectacular dinner. Afterward, the two leaders took a stroll on the
lawns of the estate. Taking advantage of the moment, Kennedy conveyed a
personal plea from CIA Director Dulles to reopen the border. Caught up
in the atmospherics, Ayub relented and agreed to let ten more Tibetans
pass through his territory.
Wasting little time, the CIA had the Tibetans through East Pakistan and
into Mustang by August. There they found that eight companies had been
formed in the Yara vicinity, each numbering less than 100 men. Half of
this number were issued rifles from the first weapons drop; the
remainder were designated as support personnel. Eight of the Hale
graduates took charge as company commanders; the rest were to act as
trainers and headquarters staff.
Despite this promising start, problems quickly ensued. First, several
of the Khampas were caught stealing animals and jewelry on the Chinese
side of the border; this sent a chill through the local Mustang
community, which was already beginning to have second thoughts about an
armed Khampa presence in its midst. [42] Second, Baba Yeshi had not
responded well to the CIA's plan for him to share authority with Sally.
Outmaneuvering the Hale-trained officer, he made it clear that he was
in complete control of both administration and field operations.
Not that there were any field operations to command. Despite the influx
of 400 weapons and couriered cash from Gyalo Thondup, allowing for the
purchase of horses, the guerrillas stood fast inside Mustang. Not until
September did seven guerrillas on horseback head northeast into Tibet.
As the Chinese had declared the border area off-limits to herders, they
found the region completely devoid of population. Moving over the
course of four nights, they eventually came upon a small PLA outpost on
the south bank of the Brahmaputra. While two tended to the horses, the
remaining five guerrillas ambushed a Chinese patrol and killed several
(estimates ranged between eight and thirteen) before racing back to
Nepal. [43]
Upon receiving a radio message with the results of Mustang's baptism by
fire, the CIA was less than impressed. No photographs had been taken as
proof of the supposed ambush, and no weapons were retrieved. And as
this had been the first and only operation in the six months since the
weapons drop, the guerrillas were not exactly setting a breakneck pace.
Realizing that he had to do better for an encore, Baba Yeshi gathered
his officers and outlined plans for a forty-man foray. Their target
would be any vehicle plying the trans Tibet road running between Lhasa
and Xinjiang. Completed in 1957 and of questionable quality, it was the
only route connecting PLA border garrisons along a 2,400-kilometer
stretch.
Chosen to lead the incursion was thirty-five-year-old Rara, a Lithang
native known by the call sign "Ross" during his stint at Hale. Since
arriving via East Pakistan in August, he had assumed command of a
company at Yara. For the road ambush, he assembled a composite unit by
soliciting five men and five horses from each of the eight companies.
They were all armed with a mix of Garands and carbines; in addition,
Ross took a camera to document their foray.
Heading north from Mustang on 21 October, the guerrillas traveled for
three days before crossing the frozen Brahmaputra and coming upon the
Xinjiang road. Keeping their horses concealed, the Tibetans deployed in
an extended line among the boulders of an adjacent hill. There they sat
in the biting cold for an entire day. Not until 1400 hours on 25
October did the sound ofa distant automobile break the silence. From
the west, a lone olive-drab jeep came into view. Due to encroaching
sand dunes, it could manage only a crawl along the clogged roadbed.
Ross, who was at the closest end of the ambush, signaled the three
guerrillas at his side to hold their fire until the vehicle was within
range. [44]
Taking aim with his carbine, Ross initiated the attack. Bullets ripped
through the windshield, the driver's head snapped back, and the jeep
veered to a halt on the shoulder. Two others in the front seat -- one
male, one female -- slumped as their bodies were riddled by gunfire.
Leaving the safety of the boulders, Ross exchanged his weapon for the
camera. But as he moved forward to take photographs, gunfire began to
pour from the rear of the jeep. Ross dove for cover while the three
other guerrillas resumed their fusillade toward the back of the
vehicle. After a minute, they converged on the now silent target and
removed four dead Chinese.
Putting his Hale training into practice, Ross wasted no time recovering
three Chinese-made Type 56 carbines and a machine gun. He also took a
large leather case from the front seat. The bodies were laid on the
ground and stripped of uniforms, shoes, socks, and watches. After
setting the jeep on fire, Ross blew a whistle as the signal for the
rest of the guerrillas strung along the ridgeline to rendezvous near
their horses.
Three days later, the forty guerrillas were safely back in Mustang.
Although photographs of the ambush were a bust (Ross had forgotten to
take off the lens cap), the leather case looked promising. Baba Yeshi
assigned two couriers to deliver the satchel to Lhamo Tsering in
Darjeeling, who then personally carried it to Clay Cathey in Calcutta.
When the case was opened, Cathey found himself staring at 1,600 pages
of documents. Once Lhamo Tsering began preliminary translations of a
sampling, the CIA officer determined that most of the material was
classified up to top secret. "I sent a long cable listing some of the
report titles," recalls Cathey. "A day later, headquarters sent a
message saying it could be a gold mine."
Once the satchel was back in Washington -- Cathey had strapped it in an
adjacent seat aboard a Pan Am flight -- the CIA quickly realized that
its initial assessment was correct. The male passenger in the front
seat of the jeep, it turned out, had been a PLA regimental commander
assigned to Tibet. Among the documents he was carrying were more than
two dozen issues of a classified PLA journal entitled Bulletin of
Activities. Intended for internal use among senior army cadre, the
bulletins dealt frankly with problems plaguing the PLA. Some, for
example, detailed food shortages and other economic problems, [45]
others spoke of the lack of combat experience among junior officers,
and still others reported on armed rebellions in the provinces.
>From the satchel documents, the CIA also learned that the People's
Militia, a paramilitary unit that reportedly totaled more than 1
million, was in reality a paper organization. Yet another document
discussed the intensity of the Sino-Soviet rivalry, and others listed
communication codes. In the end, more than 100 CIA reports were
generated from these papers. "This single haul became the basic staple
of intelligence on the Chinese army," concluded Cathey.
Better still, the Chinese did not know that the documents were missing,
because the Tibetans had razed the jeep. Not until August 1963 did
their existence become public knowledge after the CIA reached an
agreement with scholars at Stanford University to help with the
laborious translation. Although the source of the documents was not
revealed, the agency threw the academics off the scent by hinting that
they had been captured by the ROC navy from intercepted communist
junks. [46]
The CIA was ecstatic over its intelligence windfall, but Ambassador
Galbraith did not share in the celebration. Persistent in his
determination to put a stop to Mustang and further supply overflights,
he fired off a series of scathing cables to Washington during November
1961. To add further punch, he made special note of Kennedy's 27 May
letter to all American ambassadors charging each with responsibility
for operations of the entire U.S. diplomatic mission. Implicit in this
was his prerogative to cancel what he deemed an objectionable CIA
operation. [47]
Still, Galbraith could barely make headway. With the documents in the
jeep satchel just beginning to be digested in Washington, the Tibet
Task Force now had tangible proof of the operation's benefits. Armed
with this, they secured final approval in early December for another
pair of Hercules drops. For the guerrillas at Mustang, the omens were
starting to look good."
Geir
no background or previous knowledge of Buddhism and it's Tiebtan
history.
So, I'm sending the rest of the steam-rolling posting that's opening up
Tibet and it's past like an open book to be read and zoomed through by
all here.
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- FAVORED SON
Lyle Brown had been busy kicking cargo to guerrilla outposts in the
highlands of northeastern Laos when he got the call to report to Takhli
in early December. Fresh to Southeast Asia after a tour training Cuban
paratroopers for the Bay of Pigs, he exemplified the rugged ideals that
the CIA saw in the aerial firefighting community. "We were good under
adverse conditions," he reflected. "We didn't need a martini, but would
be just as happy with some C-rations and a cup of coffee around a
campfire." [1]
Linking up with Tibet veterans Shep Johnson and Andy Andersen, Brown
squeezed into the back of a packed Hercules piloted by Air America's
Bill Welk. Behind them on the flight line was a similarly loaded C-130
with another three smoke jumpers. [2] Following the same flight path as
the previous Mustang mission, the pair of aircraft skirted the
Tibet-Nepal border. From several kilometers away, the pilots could see
an enormous blazing "I" not far from the drop zone used seven months
earlier.
On the ground, Lobsang Jamba, cyanide ampoule dangling roguishly from a
cord around his neck, was among the 400-man reception party. They had
arrived at the prescribed location two days earlier but had radioed an
eleventh-hour delay to Thailand because the original time had coincided
with nine bad omens converging on the Tibetan calendar. "The next day
there fortunately were ten good omens to ward them off," he recalled.
[3]
Better prepared this time than they had been in April, the Tibetans had
brought along sixty mules and horses. As pallets impacted the snow, the
guerrillas descended on the bundles and divided them among pack animals
and porters.
By week's end, they were back in Mustang and taking inventory. Besides
600 Garands, the load included eight 60mm mortars, eight 75mm
recoilless rifles, and some Bren light machine guns. "There was also a
color catalog," said one Tibetan officer, "showing photos of what would
come in the future." [4]
The extra weapons were sorely needed to keep pace with the
fast-expanding Mustang force. Doubling on paper, it now counted sixteen
light companies, nearly all commanded by Hale graduates. Between the
contents of the first and second drops, half of each company was armed
with rifles. Each company, too, received a single Bren and either a
mortar or a recoilless rifle. Those not issued rifles or assigned to
the twelve-man heavy weapons squad were given a single grenade. In that
way, each guerrilla was armed in some fashion.
Although these developments gave the CIA cause for cheer, the same
could not be said for the situation back in Colorado. With more than a
dozen Mustang leaders still languishing at Hale, the agency had planned
to whisk them back to Asia during the first week of December and appeal
to Pakistan once more for permission to use its territory as a conduit.
Almost from the start, plans went awry. Late on the night of 6
December, Hale instructor Don Cesare had gotten behind the wheel of the
camp's bus and loaded the remaining Tibetans. As had been done many
times in the recent past, Cesare intended to get them to Peterson Field
by 0600 hours the next morning and inside a waiting C-124 Globemaster
well before most of Colorado Springs awoke. But snow-packed roads had
conspired against him, forcing two prolonged stops en route.
By the time he pulled into the airport, he was two hours behind
schedule. An early-morning crowd had already arrived for work,
including the operators of a flying school that owned a hangar near the
parked C-124. Afraid of public exposure, the CIA had brought along a
squad of overzealous military policemen, who promptly detained
sixty-five civilians at gunpoint and ordered a pair of telephone
repairmen off some nearby poles.
If that were not enough to raise eyebrows, things quickly worsened. At
the local police office, Sheriff Earl Sullivan received a sketchy
telephoned account of the bizarre happenings at Peterson. Mindful that
there had been a killing at the air base the previous fall, Sullivan
issued shotguns to his two deputies and raced to the field at breakneck
speed. Amazingly, they too were ordered to halt at the airport entrance
by military policemen, who explained that the C-124 was being loaded
with classified material. [5]
The cover story hardly held up to scrutiny. By the following day, a
local radio station had it partially right when it reported that
forty-five Orientals had been spotted wearing military clothes near the
transport plane. That same afternoon, a front-page story in the
Colorado Springs Gazette Telegraph entitled "Gestapo Tactics at
Peterson Field Bring Apology from Army" noted that Asians in battle
fatigues had disembarked from a bus with curtains over the windows. [6]
The wire services picked up the story, and it soon got the attention of
the Washington bureau of the New York Times. When a correspondent
called the Pentagon for comment, he was phoned back by a flustered
official from the office of Secretary of Defense, Robert McNamara.
Almost without prompting, the official relayed details of the Hale
operation, then pleaded with the journalist to drop the story. The
gamble worked: by taking the correspondent into its confidence, the
Pentagon had made it ethically difficult for the reporter to reveal the
story. By the following week, the Peterson episode had been quietly
forgotten. [7]
The CIA thus narrowly avoided embarrassing exposure, but for the
Tibetans in the C-124, the frustration was only beginning. Cesare
escorted them as far as Okinawa, where what was intended as a brief
transit stop extended into days and then weeks. The reason for this was
to be found at the southern end of the subcontinent, where Indian
troops had invaded and annexed the small Portuguese enclave of Goa
during the third week of December. Although the United States voiced
criticism of this action -- privately, Kennedy was amused that Nehru, a
long-time proponent of peaceful coexistence, had seen fit to launch a
military offensive -- Pakistan's Ayub Khan was hardly satisfied. If
Washington could refuse to help when a European ally suffered at
India's hand, Khan was more doubtful than ever that the youthful U.S.
president would come to Pakistan's aid in a pinch.
As U.S.-Pakistani relations plunged to a new low, use of East Pakistan
for the Tibet project was well and truly out of the cards. Rather than
retracing his steps back to the vacant Camp Hale, Cesare diverted his
Tibetans to a remote corner of the CIA complex on the island of Saipan.
With no chance for overland infiltration anytime soon, he stocked up on
movies and began looking for new subject matter -- how to drive jeeps
and trucks, for instance -- to keep his students preoccupied for the
long wait ahead. [8]
***
Infiltration of the Mustang leaders was not the only part of the Tibet
project on hold. In a concession to Ambassador Galbraith, Kennedy had
given the nod to the December supply drop only on the condition that
future drops would include the participation of the Indian government.
Such support, knew the CIA, was a long shot. Although Indian spymaster
Mullik quietly reaffirmed his tacit approval of the agency's efforts in
1961, and had earlier claimed that Nehru held similar beliefs, his
influence with the aging prime minister was more than offset by India's
ambitious and abrasive defense minister, Krishna Menon. [9]
Known for his frequent baiting of the West, Menon was a devout Fabian
socialist whose take on nonalignment fell decidedly left of center. As
India's longtime representative to the United Nations, he had gone out
of his way to sabotage Gyalo's efforts at winning votes sympathetic to
Tibet. As defense minister, he was openly biased toward purchases of
Soviet hardware, even when his generals requested Western alternatives.
And given his soft stance toward China -- as well as his close links
with Nehru -- Indo-U.S. cooperation on the Tibet front was an
impossibility as long as Menon enjoyed his pronounced clout.
Unable to meet Kennedy's requirement of Indian participation, the CIA
knew that additional drops to Mustang were out of the question for the
time being. The Tibet Task Force, as a result, came to reflect the
resupply stand-down. With Hale vacant and no new students scheduled for
arrival, all the camp's instructors had been reassigned, with the
exception of Cesare at Saipan. The last two Hale-based Tibetan
translators were sent to language class at Georgetown University as a
reward for services rendered. Roger McCarthy had already left his seat
as head of the task force in December 1961 for an assignment on Taiwan,
leaving Ken Knaus to assume command over a shadow of the former
program. "There was talk of even closing down the task force all
together," remembers Cesare. [10]
Coincidentally, there was also a changing of the guard on the
subcontinent. During May 1962, India station chief Harry Rositzke
finished his tour and was replaced by David Blee. Like Rositzke, Blee
was an OSS veteran with service in both the South Asian and Southeast
Asian theaters. Blee, too, was a Harvard (and Stanford) graduate and
had practiced law for a year before joining the agency at its
inception.
Arriving along with Blee was a new deputy station chief, William
Grimsley. On his second India tour (he had been posted to New Delhi
between 1956 and 1958), Grimsley had found himself embroiled in the
Tibet turf-war even before his departure from Washington. Three months
earlier, in February 1962, Richard Bissell, the head of covert
operations, had belatedly fallen as the last major casualty of the Bay
of Pigs fiasco. Promoted in Bissell's place was his operations officer
and longtime rival, Richard Helms. Known for his instinctive caution
and political acumen, Helms saw the divisional rivalries over Tibet as
an internal sore that needed resolution and closure. Reflecting the
realities on the ground -- that paramilitary activity inside Tibet was
almost nil, and liaison with the Tibetan leadership took place on
Indian soil -- the new covert operations chief was inclined to favor
ceding more control to the Near East Division.
Following from this decision, Grimsley was called into Helms's office
and given a second hat. Although a residual Tibet Task Force would
remain under the Far East Division, Grimsley would take over from the
departing Howard Bane as the primary Tibet case officer in India. This
move effectively put Tibet operations directly under the control of the
Near East, something Des FitzGerald was sure to protest. Afraid of
intentional media exposure by detractors from within the Far East
Division, Helms charged James Angleton, the CIA's infamous mole hunter
and counterintelligence chief, with leak control. "I was personally
briefed by Angleton," said Grimsley, "to report any resistance from Far
East types to the conversion." [11]
Though largely emasculated, the Tibet Task Force was not yet out. In
June 1962, officers from the task force traveled to Darjeeling to
rendezvous with Mustang commander Baba Yeshi. To start on a good note,
they congratulated the chieftain for the previous year's jeep ambush
and offered an Omega chronograph in appreciation. But as talk shifted
to the future, the secret tryst proved a bust. Speaking for his
Tibetans, Baba Yeshi demanded a long list of supplies before his men
would shift their action inside Tibet. As far as the CIA was concerned,
it wanted the guerrillas to start launching reconnaissance teams north
of the Brahmaputra without further preconditions. "It was basically a
chicken or the egg scenario " said task force chief Knaus.
With no promises offered by either camp, the CIA men returned to
Washington with little hope. "Guerrilla harassment continues," read an
agency assessment prepared at month's end, "but poses no serious threat
to [Beijing's] control." It even noted signs of reduced popular
discontent against the Chinese. [12]
Based on this sentiment and after further consultations at the highest
levels of government, the Kennedy administration in late summer decided
that the entire future of the Mustang resistance- -- not merely supply
drops -- would hinge on the unlikely prospect of active, not tacit,
Indian support.
Baba Yeshi, meanwhile, went back to his perch at Mustang. There his men
poured their energies into improving their respective tent camps. Eight
of the companies had set up quarters in a line along the eastern side
of the Kali Gandaki; the remainder ran in a mirror arrangement on the
opposite side of the river. Aside from this, they did little else, not
launching even a single foray following the previous October's satchel
snatch. [13]
For all intents and purposes, the epitaph to the Tibet project was
ready to be scripted.
***
On the evening of Saturday, 8 September, Brigadier John Dalvi was
soaking in a hot bath when the phone rang. As commander of India's 7th
Infantry Brigade, he was charged with defense of the western NEFA
sector, which encompassed the exfiltration route used by the Dalai Lama
in 1959. That very afternoon, he had played a round of golf at the
newly laid course at Tezpur, the same tea planters' town in Assam where
the international media had awaited the arrival of the exiled monarch
three years earlier.
Stirred from his moment of relaxation, Dalvi at first tried to ignore
the incessant ringing. But having a premonition that it might be
important, he wrested himself from the tub. It was a wise choice. On
the other end of the phone was his deputy assistant adjutant calling
from Towang, the town where the Dalai Lama had first paused after
crossing from Tibet. Dalvi listened as the adjutant passed on a frantic
message from a nearby outpost. Six hundred Chinese soldiers had
surrounded the position earlier that day, cutting bridges and
threatening the water supply. They needed help, and they needed it
fast. [14]
Though Dalvi was shocked by the incursion, the Chinese maneuvers in
NEFA were not wholly unexpected. Ever since the PLA had invaded Tibet,
China and India had been bickering about the delineation of their
common border. Basing their claims on a 1914 treaty -- of which Tibet
was a party -- India placed its NEFA boundary generally along the
Himalayan watershed. China at times appeared ready to accept this but
had most recently produced maps that showed much of NEFA under its
control. Complicating matters was a second area of contested territory
at the westernmost extreme of the Indo Tibet border along the desolate
Ladakh Range.
For India, NEFA was of strategic concern. It was home to 800,000
primitive tribesmen, and most of NEFA's residents were ethnically and
culturally closer to the Tibetans than to the people of the Indian
plains. Sharing few bonds with the rest of the country, they often
regarded lowlanders with suspicion. The Indian government was cognizant
of this and had been trying to win their favor with comprehensive
development projects, but budgetary constraints sharply limited
realization of these plans. And with the poor economic situation
compounded by the disruption of trade following China's closure of the
Indo-Tibet border -- as well as the rumor mill spinning apocryphal
tales of laudable progress inside Tibet -- India was correctly
concerned about loyalties in this part of the country. [15]
By contrast, India's Ladakh claim -- based on "historical truths," said
New Delhi -- was grounded more in prestige than in strategic value.
Due to the high altitude (much of it over 4,850 meters) the area was
home to just a handful of nomads. Moreover, land access was virtually
impossible from the Indian side. The Chinese enjoyed easier access and
had already constructed part of their important road link between
Xinjiang and Lhasa across the disputed Ladakh zone.
Slowly at first, the two sides had resorted to arms to press their
conflicting claims. The first known PLA incursion took place in
September 1958 when Chinese troops arrested an Indian police patrol in
Ladakh (the police were attempting to reconnoiter the true alignment of
the Xinjiang-Tibet road). The following year, after the exile of the
Dalai Lama, the frontier heated up after the Indians sent soldiers
directly up to the Himalayan watershed; previously, they had been
bivouacked well behind that line. The Chinese, in return, sent parries
to both NEFA and Ladakh, including an October 1959 attack in the west
that killed nine Indians.
Though the Indian military raised a cry at that time, Defense Minister
Menon would hear none of it. Labeling the army chief a pro-Western
alarmist, he preferred to focus attention on the threat posed by
Pakistan. Intimidated by the brash defense chief, the generals took to
quietly improving their readiness along the Tibet frontier. Following
road and rail construction, an increase in air transport capabilities,
and the deployment of more troops at key locations along the border,
the top brass was increasingly confident of its ability to deal with
Beijing. Reflecting this confidence, in the spring of 1962, India began
deploying more patrols and establishing new forward posts in Ladakh --
behind Chinese positions, but still inside Indian-claimed territory.
[16]
By mid-1962, however, India's military leaders began wondering whether
they were overextended. Their fears seemed justified when Dalvi's
report about the Towang attack reached New Delhi. But to the shock and
dismay of the field commanders in NEFA, Menon, preoccupied with
preparations for the upcoming United Nations General Assembly session
later in September, was keen to dismiss the incident as nothing more
serious than the minor incursions of previous years.
One month later, there could be no mistaking Chinese intent. On 20
October, PLA troops rolled down from the Himalayas and smashed Indian
outposts across a wide front. Better acclimated to the altitude,
properly stocked from nearby roads, and outnumbering the Indians eight
to one, the PLA held every key advantage and showed it. "We were
flabbergasted," said one National Security Council staffer, "when the
Chinese wiped the floor with the Indians." [17]
***
No two Indian officials felt the heat from the losses more than Defense
Minister Menon and the chief of the General Staff, Lieutenant General
B. M. Kaul. Both were inextricably linked: Menon had been instrumental
in getting Kaul his senior post, catapulting him over better-qualified
generals in the process. This was partly because Kaul was regarded as
less pro-Western than many of his peers, lending him the same political
mind-set as the defense minister. Menon was also well aware that Kaul
shared Kashmiri roots with Nehru, who viewed the general as a protege
and trusted confidant.
Stung by the resultant whispers of nepotism, Kaul had tried to bolster
his image by taking personal charge of a newly created corps set to
expel the Chinese from NEFA. Not only had this fallen apart during the
third week of October, but Kaul had earlier been stricken with a lung
infection and sat out the bleakest days in bed in New Delhi. Humiliated
and ill, the general sought out Menon to brainstorm ways of salvaging
the desperate situation in the Himalayas -- and their careers.
One solution, they felt, was to create a guerrilla force that could
strike deep behind Chinese lines. Because the Chinese were coming from
Tibet, members of that ethnic group were the logical guerrillas of
choice. Finding volunteers would not be a problem; both knew that there
was no shortage of Tibetans on Indian soil, and virtually all were
vehemently anti-Chinese and would not hesitate to take up arms for
their own patriotic reasons.
But who would lead such a force? They needed a senior Indian officer
who could win the confidence of the Tibetans, embracing their
independent nature and promoting a semblance of discipline without
resort to a rigid army code. And he would need to have a bent for the
unconventional -- something that was in short supply in the Indian
military, as the trench mentality in the Himalayas had dramatically
proved. [18]
As they scoured the roster of available officers, one name caught their
eye. Brigadier Sujan Singh Uban, until recently the commander of the
26th Artillery Brigade in Kashmir, was in New Delhi after having just
processed his retirement papers. Forty-eight years old, he had been an
artilleryman all his career, first under the British colonial system
and then with the Indian military after independence. Normally, this
would have provided little room for innovation, but Uban had spent much
time with mountain units and was familiar with fighting at high
altitudes. And during a stint as an artillery instructor for jungle
warfare units, he had earned the nickname "Mad Sikh" for his flair and
drive. That small detail was enough for Menon and Kaul, who flashed an
urgent message summoning the brigadier.
On 26 October, Uban was sitting in the defense minister's office. The
situation on the border -- and the status of Menon and Kaul -- had
already reached a critical point. With the Chinese still inside Indian
territory, Uban was given sketchy details of the proposed
behind-the-lines guerrilla mission. Working with the Tibetans would not
be easy, warned Kaul. Disciplining them, he said, would be like taming
wild tigers. As a sweetener, the brigadier was promised a second star
in due course. Uban was hooked; he grabbed the assignment without
hesitation. [19]
Now that the guerrilla force had a leader, there remained the job of
signing on Tibetan volunteers. To help, the Indians sent an emissary
from the Intelligence Bureau to Darjeeling to fetch the Dalai Lama's
brother, Gyalo Thondup. After years of attempting to court the Indians
-- who were often sympathetic but never committal -- Gyalo relished the
moment as he sat in front of a select group of senior intelligence and
military officials in the capital. Speaking in theoretical terms, his
hosts asked whether he could organize the needed volunteers. Of course,
replied Gyalo. When asked how many, he conjured a robust, round figure.
Five thousand, he said. [20]
Next came a key question. Would Gyalo prefer that the Intelligence
Bureau or the Ministry of Defense be involved? Based on his earlier
contact with Mullik and his current cooperation with the CIA (through
Lhamo Tsering), the decision was easy. "Not Defense," was his indirect
answer. [21]
***
Despite India's woes -- and its newfound interest in the Tibetans --
most of Washington took little notice. Half a world away in the waters
around Cuba, nuclear brinkmanship was being taken to the limit as
President Kennedy demanded a withdrawal of Soviet missiles from that
island. Not until 28 October did the world breathe a sigh of relief
when Moscow agreed to withdraw its weaponry. With that crisis over, the
Sino-Indian conflict belatedly leapfrogged to the top of Washington's
foreign policy agenda.
The very next day, Prime Minister Nehru made an unequivocal request for
U.S. military assistance. For the tired, beaten leader, it was a
humbling overture. It was an admission not only that his central belief
in peaceful coexistence with the PRC was irrevocably shattered but also
that his cordial relationship with the Soviet Union had proved hollow.
Due to the Cuban missile crisis, the Soviets had been forced to side
with China vis-a-vis India so as not to alienate a needed communist
ally in their moment of danger. Not only did Moscow backpedal on its
earlier promise to sell MiG-21 jets to India, but on 29 October it
openly declared that it would recognize Chinese territorial claims and
extend no arms at all to India. [22]
Immediately, Washington stepped into the fray and responded generously
to Nehru's appeal for assistance. By 2 November, the USAF was using
Europe-based Boeing 707 transports to fly eight missions into India
every day for a week. Each plane was packed with basic infantry
equipment to refit the soldiers streaming off the Himalayas, who in
most cases were outfitted with more primitive gear than had been
afforded the CIA's Tibetan guerrillas. These supplies were later
ferried by USAF C-130 transports to smaller airfields near the frontier
battle lines. [23]
Still, the aid did not turn the tide. On 14 November, an Indian
counterattack in NEFA was soundly routed. Three days later, the entire
NEFA line collapsed, giving China virtual control over 64,000 square
kilometers of territory. By 19 November, leaders in New Delhi genuinely
feared an attack on Calcutta, prompting Nehru to take the extraordinary
step of sending two secret back-channel messages to Kennedy pleading
for a pair of bomber squadrons flown by U.S. pilots.
India's infantrymen and Nehru's pride were not the only casualties of
the conflict. Back on 28 October, America's bete noire, the discredited
Krishna Menon, had tendered his resignation. With him out of the way
and the situation on the frontier critical, Kennedy gathered some of
his best and brightest on 19 November to discuss the war in the
Himalayas. Among those present were secretary of Defense McNamara,
Secretary of State Dean Rusk, and Assistant Secretary of State for Far
Eastern Affairs Averell Harriman. At seventy-two, Harriman was one of
America's most respected diplomats and politicians. The former governor
had worked closely with the Indians in the past, having appealed to
Nehru the previous year to assist in formulating a negotiated end to
the looming superpower rivalry in Laos. Significantly, too, throughout
the summer of 1962, Harriman had been a lone senior voice in the State
Department supporting the CIA's argument for ongoing paramilitary
operations out of Mustang.
Discussed at the 19 November meeting was increased U.S. military
assistance to India and options for a show of force in the region. Also
mentioned was the possibility of using the CIA's Tibetan guerrillas.
John McCone, a wealthy and opinionated Republican chosen by Kennedy to
replace CIA Director Dulles after the Bay of Pigs, was on hand to brief
the president on such covert matters. Joining McCone was Des
FitzGerald, the Far East chief; James Critchfield, head of the Near
East Division, was touring Beirut at the time. [24]
By meeting's end, it was decided that Harriman would lead a
high-powered delegation to New Delhi to more fully assess India's
needs. General Paul Adams, chief of the U.S. Strike Command, was to
head the military component. From the CIA, Des FitzGerald won a seat on
the mission, as did the head of the Tibet Task Force, Ken Knaus.
Rendezvousing with them in India would be Critchfield, who received an
emergency cable to depart Lebanon immediately for the subcontinent.
On 21 November, Harriman's entourage departed Andrews Air Force Base in
Maryland. Although the Chinese declared a unilateral cease-fire while
the group was en route, the situation was still tense when it reached
New Delhi the following day. Without pause, Ambassador Galbraith
ushered Harriman into the first of four meetings with Nehru. The end
results of these discussions were plans for a major three-phase
military aid package encompassing material support, help with domestic
defense production, and possible assistance with air defenses.
As a covert aside to Harriman's talks, the CIA representatives on the
delegation held their own sessions with Indian intelligence czar
Mullik. This was a first, as Galbraith had previously taken great pains
to downscale the agency's activities inside India to all but benign
reporting functions. As recently as 5 November, he had objected to
projected CIA plans due to the risk of exposure. But in a 13 November
letter to Kennedy, the ambassador had a qualified change of heart,
noting that Menon's departure was a turning point to begin working with
the Indians on "sensitive matters." [25]
Both the CIA and the Intelligence Bureau were quick to seize the
opportunity. "I went into a huddle with Mullik and Des," recalls
Critchfield, "and we started coming up with all these schemes against
the Chinese." Most of their ideas centered around use of the Tibetans.
"The Indians were interested in the Tibet program because of its
intelligence collection value," said station chief David Blee, who sat
in on some of the meetings. "Mullik was particularly interested in
paramilitary operations." [26] There was good reason for this:
following Menon's resignation, and Gyalo Thondup's stated preference,
the Intelligence Bureau had been placed in charge of the 5,000 Tibetan
guerrillas forming under Brigadier Uban.
Mullik was cautious as well. Although he was well connected to the
Nehru family and had the prime minister's full approval to talk with
the CIA, he knew that the Indian populace was fickle, and until
recently, anti-Americanism had been a popular mantra. It was perhaps
only a matter of time before the barometer would swing back and make
open Indo-U.S. cooperation political suicide. To offer some protection
against this, Mullik and one of his close deputies, M. I. Hooja, made a
special request during a session with FitzGerald and Blee. "They made
us promise that our involvement," said Blee, "would remain secret
forever." [27]
By the end of the Harriman mission, the CIA and Intelligence Bureau had
arrived at a rough division of labor. The Indians, with CIA support
from the Near East Division, would work together in developing Uban's
5,000-strong tactical guerrilla force. The CIA's Far East Division,
meantime, would unilaterally create a strategic long-range resistance
movement inside Tibet. The Mustang contingent would also remain under
the CIA's unilateral control.
All this would depend on final approval by the highest levels of the
Kennedy administration. Meanwhile, the CIA arranged for a sign of good
faith. A single crew was selected from the agency's air proprietaries
in Taiwan and Japan, then dispatched to Takhli aboard a DC-6 transport.
Loaded with an assortment of military aid, the plane made three
shuttles between Thailand and the Charbatia airfield near the city of
Bhubaneswar in India's eastern state of Orissa. A relic of World War
II, Charbatia had fallen into a severe state of disrepair. More
remarkable than its poor condition were the precautions taken to keep
the CIA's largesse a secret from the die-hard Soviet supporters among
New Delhi's political elite. "We flew the last few miles just fifty
feet above the ground to avoid radar," said pilot Neese Hicks. "We
would land at dawn, eat a fast breakfast, and be back in the air toward
Takhli." [28]
By the last week of November, the CIA representatives from the Harriman
delegation were back in Washington and making their pitch before the
Special Group. Though they could now count on Indian participation --
which had been a prerequisite for future support to the Mustang group
-- they had a tough sell. CIA Director McCone, for one, was a
pronounced skeptic with relatively little interest in covert
paramilitary operations. Citing the example of Mustang (which had done
precious little over the past year), he was dubious about the utility
of developing a tactical guerrilla force that the United States could
not ultimately control. And although officials in New Delhi believed
that limited war with China might continue intermittently over a number
of years, he questioned what would happen in the event of Sino-Indian
rapprochement. Would the CIA have to cut its support to the guerrillas
and the resistance in midstream? [29]
There was also sharp criticism from the Pentagon, but for a different
reason. General Maxwell Taylor, the president's military adviser who
had recently taken over as chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff, tore
into Critchfield for not informing the Department of Defense about the
ongoing paramilitary program at Mustang. Many upcoming contingencies
might hinge on the Mustang guerrillas, chided Taylor, and the
Pentagon's representatives on the Harriman mission had only belatedly
found out about Mustang's existence while in India. Many suspected that
Taylor's umbrage was because he had lobbied hard over the past year to
have CIA paramilitary operations revert to Defense Department control,
and he was livid at finding a holdout.
Despite the comments from the likes of McCone and Taylor, the chance of
making significant inroads with the Indians -- and giving a bigger
headache to Beijing -- was too good to pass up. On 13 December, the
Kennedy administration approved training assistance to Uban's tactical
guerrilla force. At the same time, the Tibet Task Force drew up plans
to reopen Hale and school at least 125 candidates for the long-range
resistance movement. Commented task force chief Knaus, "We had suddenly
gone from stepchild to favored son." [30]"
Geir
Mustangies !
Nepal
***
***
***
little other choice, the Pakistanis closed their border for the Tibet
project.
For the Tibet Task Force, the timing could not have been worse.
Geir
book-excerpt-posting is over. Soon...
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- CHAKRATA
Jamba Kalden was a latecomer to the resistance. A successful Khampa
trader from Chamdo -- the first town captured by the PLA during the
invasion of October 1950 -- he had repeatedly turned a deaf ear to
early recruitment calls from the NVDA. Not until early 1959, with
tension in Lhasa reaching the breaking point, did he feel compelled to
visit the capital. There the sight of raucous crowds surrounding the
Dalai Lama's Norbulingka summer palace proved infectious, drawing the
thirty-nine-year-old businessman into the midst of the swelling
anti-Chinese protests.
It was to prove a short and painful introduction to civil disobedience.
On the morning of 20 March, two days after the Dalai Lama fled for the
border, the PLA began shelling the palace. By that afternoon, hundreds
of Tibetans lay dead or wounded. Attempting to evade the closing
Chinese cordon, Jamba Kalden took a bullet to the thigh and was
promptly arrested. He was confined to a small Lhasa cell while he
nursed his wound, and not until summer was the injury sufficiently
healed for him to be assigned to one of the prisoner gangs the Chinese
had dispatched to various construction sites near the capital.
Jamba Kalden did not take well to forced labor. His once impressive
physique turned gaunt from the hard work and meager rations, and he
began planning his escape toward year's end. Not until 17 January 1960
did he find the opportunity to slip away from his minders. He and two
fellow prisoners made their way through blinding winter snowstorms
toward the southern border. In May they reached Bhutan; two months
later, they crossed into India.
By that time, the Dalai Lama and his entourage had taken up residence
in the town of Dharamsala. Situated 725 kilometers northwest of New
Delhi in the Himalayan foothills, Dharamsala -- literally, "rest house"
-- was once a traditional stop for Hindu pilgrims. By 1855, it had
become a flourishing hill station for the British, only to see its
popularity plummet after a devastating 1905 earthquake. Its last bloc
of residents, a handful of Muslims, left for newly created Pakistan in
1947.
For the Indian government, Dharamsala's remote location and lack of
population were now its major selling points. Since the Dalai Lama had
crossed onto Indian soil, he had made his temporary quarters near
another former hill station, Mussoorie. But because Mussoorie was just
a short drive from New Delhi, the monarch enjoyed easy access to the
media limelight. Influential leaders such as Krishna Menon cringed at
the young Tibetan's frequent and sympathetic contact with the press,
leading them to propose more permanent -- and distant -- quarters at
Dharamsala. With little choice, the Tibetan leader made the move in
April 1960.
If the Indians thought that Dharamsala was the answer to stifling the
Dalai Lama, they were sadly mistaken. Using its isolation to his
advantage, he converted the town into his de facto capital, then made
good on his threats over the past year and began creating a government
in exile. Part of this involved reforming the cabinet offices that
previously existed in Lhasa. It also involved preparation of a draft
constitution. At the same time, a straw vote was held in each of the
main refugee camps over the summer. From this rudimentary selection
process, thirteen representatives were chosen: three from each
province, plus one for each of the four Tibetan Buddhist sects.
Jamba Kalden arrived in Dharamsala as the thirteen delegates were
convening for the first time in September 1960. In deference to his
relative wealth and influential position back in Chamdo, he was
anointed as a key adviser to the nascent government. He was still
serving in this capacity in late October 1962 when Gyalo Thondup came
looking for 5,000 volunteers to fill Brigadier Uban's tactical
guerrilla force.
Gyalo's task was not particularly complicated. As with the Mustang
contingent, he was partial toward recruiting Khampas. Finding willing
takers was no problem, as the patriotic call to duty -- and the chance
for meaningful employment -- held great appeal among the refugee
population. With word quickly spreading, volunteers by the thousands
stepped forward over the ensuing weeks.
Gyalo also sought four political leaders who could act as the force's
indigenous officer cadre. Given his seniority, ethnicity, and proven
aptitude in Dharamsala over the previous two years, Jamba Kalden was an
easy first pick.
By early November, an initial contingent of Tibetans, led by Jamba
Kalden, was dispatched to the hill town of Dehra Dun. Once popular with
Indian princes because of its mild climate, it later served as a key
British educational center and military base. More recently it was host
to the Indian military academy, a number of regimental barracks, and
several prestigious boarding schools.
Jamba Kalden had little time to appreciate Dehra Dun's climatic appeal.
On hand to meet the Tibetans was Brigadier Uban and a skeleton staff of
officers on loan from the army. While a transit tent camp was set up on
the edge of town to process the 5,000 promised volunteers, on 14
November the Indian cadre and four political leaders shifted ninety-two
kilometers northwest to the village of Chakrata.
India
Situated along a ridge and surrounded by forest glades, Chakrata had
been chosen for good reason. Home to a thriving population of panthers
and bears, it had once boasted two training centers for a pair of
Gurkha regiments. Since 1960, however, both regiments had relocated to
more favorable climes. [1] With almost no local residents and a set of
vacant cantonments, Chakrata had both the ready facilities and the
seclusion needed for the covert Tibetan project. Uban and his team
settled in to await the arrival of the rest of the 5,000 volunteers by
year's end and began mapping out the process of molding them into
effective guerrillas.
***
For intelligence chief Mullik, the Chakrata project signaled a new
sense of militancy regarding Tibet. This was communicated in strong
fashion on 29 December when Mullik -- through Gyalo Thondup -- told the
Dalai Lama that New Delhi had now adopted a covert policy of supporting
the eventual liberation of his homeland.
Although the U.S. government did not match this with a similar pledge,
the CIA wasted no time making good on its promise to help with the
various Tibetan paramilitary schemes. As a start, Jim McElroy -- the
same logistics expert who had been involved with ST CIRCUS since its
inception, overseeing the air supply process from Okinawa and later
helping with similar requirements at Camp Hale -- was dispatched to
India in early January 1963. He was escorted by Intelligence Bureau
representatives to the Paratroopers Training School at Agra, just a few
kilometers from the breathtaking Taj Mahal palace. Because aerial
methods would be the likely method of supporting behind-the-lines
operations against the PLA, McElroy began an assessment of the school's
parachute inventory to fully understand India's air delivery
capabilities. He also started preliminary training of some Tibetan
riggers drawn from Chakrata.
McElroy's deployment paved the way for more substantial assistance.
Stepping forward as liaison in the process was forty-seven-year-old
Indian statesman Biju Patnaik. Everything about Patnaik, who stood over
two meters tall, was larger than life. The son of a state minister from
the eastern state of Orissa, he had courted adventure from a young age.
At sixteen, he had bicycled across the subcontinent on a whim. Six
years later, he earned his pilot's license at the Delhi Flying Club.
Joining the Royal Air Force at the advent of World War II, he earned
accolades after evacuating stranded British families from Burma. Other
flights took him to the Soviet Union and Iran.
Patnaik also made a name for himself as an ardent nationalist.
Following in his parents' footsteps -- both of them were renowned
patriots -- he bristled under the British yoke. Sometimes his
resistance methods were unorthodox. Once while flying a colonial
officer from a remote post in India's western desert region, he
overheard the European use a condescending tone while questioning his
skills in the cockpit. Patnaik landed the plane on a desolate stretch
of parched earth and let the critical Englishman walk. [2]
For actions like this, Patnaik ultimately served almost four years in
prison. He was released shortly before Indian independence and looked
for a way to convert his passion for flying into a business. Banding
together with some fellow pilots, he purchased a dozen aging transports
and founded a charter company based in Calcutta. He dubbed the venture
Kalinga Air Lines, taking its name from an ancient kingdom in his
native Orissa.
Almost immediately, Patnaik landed a risky contract. Revolutionaries in
the Indonesian archipelago were in the midst of their independence
struggle, but because of a tight Dutch blockade, they were finding it
hard to smuggle in arms and other essentials. Along with several other
foreign companies, Kalinga Air Lines began charter flights on their
behalf. It was Patnaik himself who evaded Dutch fighters to carry
Muhammad Hatta (later Indonesia's first vice president) on a diplomatic
mission to drum up support in South Asia.
It was also through Kalinga Air Lines that Patnaik had his first brush
with Tibet. By the mid- 1950s, he was looking to expand the airline
through the acquisition of a French medium-range transport, the Nord
Noratlas. He intended to use this plane for shuttles between Lhasa and
Calcutta, having already purchased exclusive rights to this route.
Before the first flight, however, diplomatic ties between India and
China soured; Patnaik's license into Lhasa was canceled, and the air
route never opened.
Other ventures were more successful. Patnaik established a string of
profitable industries across eastern India. And, like his father, he
entered the government bureaucracy and eventually rose to chief
minister -- akin to governor -- of his native Orissa. [3]
In November 1962 -- during the darkest days of the Chinese invasion of
NEFA -- Patnaik's patriotic zeal, taste for adventure, and brush with
Tibet would all come together. As the PLA sliced through Indian lines,
he rushed to New Delhi with an idea. The Chinese had overextended
themselves in India, he reasoned, and therefore were vulnerable to a
guerrilla resistance effort inside Assam.
Given Patnaik's stature in Orissa, he was able to take his concept
directly to Nehru. The prime minister listened and liked what he heard.
By reputation, Patnaik had the charisma to carry out such an effort. At
the very least, having the chief minister of one state take the lead in
offering assistance to another state was good press.
Patnaik was not the only one thinking along these lines. On 20
November, Mullik had notified Nehru that he wanted to quit his post as
director of the Intelligence Bureau in order to focus on organizing a
resistance movement in the event the Chinese pushed further into Assam.
Nehru refused to accept his spy-master's resignation and instead
directed him toward Patnaik, with the suggestion that they pool their
talent.
Meeting later that same afternoon, the spy and the minister became
quick allies. Although their resistance plans took on less urgency the
next day, after Beijing announced a unilateral cease-fire, Patnaik
offered critical help in other arenas. Later that month, when the CIA
wanted to use its aircraft to quietly deliver three planeloads of
supplies to India as a sign of good faith, it was Patnaik who arranged
for the discreet use of the Charbatia airfield in Orissa. And in
December, after the CIA notified New Delhi of its impending
paramilitary support program, he was the one dispatched to Washington
on behalf of Nehru and Mullik to negotiate details of the assistance
package.
Upon his arrival in the U.S. capital, Patnaik's primary point of
contact was Robert "Moose" Marrero. Thirty-two years old and of Puerto
Rican ancestry, Marrero was aptly nicknamed: like Patnaik, he stood
over two meters tall and weighed 102 kilos. He was also an aviator,
having flown helicopters for the U.S. Marines before leaving military
service in 1957 to join the CIA as an air operations specialist.
As the two pilots conversed, they recognized the need for a thorough
review of the airlift requirements for warfare in the high Himalayas.
They also saw the need to train and equip a covert airlift cell outside
of the Indian military chain of command that could operate along the
Indo-Tibetan frontier.
While Patnaik was discussing these aviation issues in Washington, the
CIA's Near East Division was forging ahead with assistance for the
Tibetans at Chakrata. Initially, the Pentagon also muscled its way into
the act and in February 1963 penned plans to send a 106-man U.S. Army
Special Forces detachment that would offer "overt, but hopefully
unpublicized" training in guerrilla tactics and unconventional warfare.
The CIA, meanwhile, came up with a competing plan that involved no more
than eight of its advisers on a six-month temporary duty assignment.
Significantly, the CIA envisioned its officers living and messing
alongside the Tibetans, minimizing the need for logistical support.
Given Indian sensitivities and the unlikely prospect of keeping an
overt U.S. military detachment unpublicized, the CIA scheme won. [4]
Heading the CIA team would be forty-five-year-old Wayne Sanford. No
stranger to CIA paramilitary operations, Sanford had achieved a stellar
service record in the U.S. Marine Corps. Commissioned in 1942, he had
participated in nearly all the major Pacific battles and earned two
Purple Hearts in the process -- one for a bullet to the shoulder at
Guadalcanal, and the second for a shot to the face at Tarawa.
Remaining in the Marine Corps after the war, Sanford was preparing for
combat on the Korean peninsula in 1950 when fate intervened. Before he
reached the front, a presidential directive was issued stating that
anyone with two Purple Hearts was exempt from combat. Coincidentally,
the CIA was scouting the ranks of the military for talent to support
its burgeoning paramilitary effort on Taiwan. Getting a temporary
release from active duty, Sanford was whisked to the ROC under civilian
cover.
For his first CIA assignment, Sanford spent the next eighteen months
commanding a small agency team on Da Chen, an ROC-controlled islet far
to the north of Taiwan. Part of the CIA operation at Da Chen involved
eavesdropping on PRC communications. Another part involved coastal
interdiction, for which they had a single PT boat. Modified with three
Rolls Royce engines, self- sealing tanks, and radar, the vessel was
impressive for its time. The ship's captain, Larry "Sinbad the Sailor"
Sinclair, had made a name for himself by boldly attacking Japanese
ships in Filipino waters during World War II; he continued the same
daring act against the PRC from Da Chen.
Eventually, the Chinese took notice. In methodical fashion, the
communists occupied the islets on either side of Da Chen. Then shortly
before Sanford's tour was set to finish, a flotilla of armed junks
surrounded the CIA bastion, and bombers spent a day dropping iron from
the sky. That night, the agency radiomen intercepted instructions for
the bombers to redouble their attack at sunrise. Not liking the odds,
Sanford ordered his CIA officers and remaining ROC troops -- thirty-
seven in all -- into the PT boat. Switching on the radar, Sinclair ran
the junk blockade under cover of darkness and carried them safely to
the northern coast of Taiwan. [5]
Returning to Washington, Sanford spent the rest of the decade on
assignment at CIA headquarters. In October 1959, he ostensibly returned
to active duty and was posted to the U.S. embassy in London as part of
the vaguely titled Joint Planning Staff. In reality, the staff was a
fusion of the CIA and the Pentagon; its members were to work on plans
to counter various communist offensives across Eurasia. One such
tabletop exercise involved a hypothetical Chinese invasion of South
Asia. [6]
By now a marine colonel, Sanford was still in London when the Chinese
attack materialized and CIA paramilitary support for India was approved
in principle in December 1962. Early the following year, after the CIA
received specific approval to send eight advisers to Chakrata, Sanford
was selected to oversee the effort. He would do so from an office at
the U.S. embassy in New Delhi while acting under the official title of
special assistant to Ambassador Galbraith. As this would be an overt
posting with the full knowledge of the Indian government, both he and
the seven other paramilitary advisers would remain segregated from
David Blee's CIA station.
Back in Washington, the rest of the team took shape. Another former
marine, John Magerowski, was fast to grab a berth. So was Harry
Mustakos, who had worked with the Tibetans on Saipan in 1957 and served
with Sanford on Da Chen. Former smoke jumper and Intermountain Aviation
(a CIA proprietary) rigger Thomas "T. J." Thompson was to replace Jim
McElroy at Agra. Two other training officers were selected from the
United States, and a third was diverted from an assignment in Turkey.
The last slot went to former U.S. Army airborne officer Charles "Ken"
Seifarth, who had been in South Vietnam conducting jump class for
agents destined to infiltrate the communist north. [7]
By mid-April, the eight had assembled in New Delhi. If they expected
war greetings from their CIA colleagues in the embassy, it did not
happen. "We were neither welcomed nor wanted by the station chief,"
recalls Mustakos. For Sanford, this was eventually seen as a plus.
"Blee gave me a free hand," he remembered, "but Galbraith wanted
detailed weekly briefings on everything we did." [8]
At the outset, there was little for Sanford to report. Waiting for
their gear to arrive (they had ordered plenty of cold-weather
clothing), the team members spent their first days agreeing on a
syllabus for the upcoming six months. One week later, their supplies
arrived, and six of the advisers left Sanford in New Delhi for the
chilled air of Chakrata. The last member, Thompson, alone went to Agra.
Once the CIA advisers arrived at the mountain training site, Brigadier
Uba gave them a fast tour. A ridgeline ran east to west, with Chakrata
occupying saddle in the middle. Centered in the saddle was a polo field
that fell off sharp to the south for 600 meters, then less sharply for
another 300 meters. North of the field was a scattering of stone houses
and shops, all remnants of the colonial era and now home to a handful
of hill tribesmen who populated the village.
To the immediate west of the saddle was an old but sound stone Anglican
church. Farther west were stone bungalows previously used by British
officers and their dependents. Most of the bungalows were similar,
differing only in the number of bedrooms. Each had eighteen-inch stone
walls, narrow windows, fireplaces in each room, stone floors, and a
solarium facing south to trap the heat on cold days and warm the rest
of the drafty house. Each CIA adviser and India officer took a
bungalow, with the largest going to Brigadier Uban. [9]
East of the saddle was a series of stone barracks built by the British
a century earlier and more recently used by the two Gurkha regiments.
These were now holding the Tibetan recruits. There was also a longer
stone building once used as a hospital, a firing range, and a walled
cemetery overgrown by cedar. The epitaphs in the cemetery read like a
history of Chakrata's harsh past. The oldest grave was for a British
corporal killed in 1857 while blasting on the original construction.
Different regiments were represented through the years, their soldiers
the victims of either sickness or various campaigns to expand or secure
the borders. There was also a gut-wrenching trio of headstones dated
within one month of one another, all children of a British sergeant and
his wife." Myself the father of three," said Mustakos, "I stood there
heartsick at the despair that must have attended the young couple in
having their family destroyed." [10]
Once fully settled, the CIA team was introduced to its guerrilla
students. By that time, the Chakrata project had been given an official
name. A decade earlier, Brigadier Uban had had a posting in command of
the 22nd Mountain Regiment in Assam. Borrowing that number, he gave his
Tibetans the ambiguous title of "Establishment 22."
In reviewing Establishment 22, the Americans were immediately struck by
the age of the Tibetans. Although there was a sprinkling of younger
recruits, nearly half were older than forty-five; some were even
approaching sixty. Jamba Kalden, the chief political leader, was
practically a child at forty-three. As had happened with the Mustang
guerrillas, the older generation, itching for a final swing at the
Chinese, had used its seniority to edge out younger candidates during
the recruitment drive in the refugee camps. [11]
With much material to cover, the CIA advisers reviewed what the Indian
staff had accomplished over the previous few months. Uban had initially
focused his efforts on instilling a modicum of discipline, which he
feared might be an impossible task. To his relief, this fear proved
unfounded. The Tibetans immediately controlled their propensity for
drinking and gambling at his behest; the brigadier encouraged dancing
and chanting as preferable substitutes to fill their leisure time. [12]
The Indians had also started a strict regimen of physical exercise,
including extended marches across the nearby hills. Because the weather
varied widely -- snow blanketed the northern slopes, but the spring sun
was starting to bake the south -- special care was taken to avoid
pneumonia. In addition to exercise, the Indians had offered a sampling
of tactical instruction. But most of it, the CIA team found, reflected
a conventional mind-set. "We had to unteach quite a bit," said
Mustakos. [13]
This combination -- strict exercise and a crash course in guerrilla
tactics -- continued through the first week of May. At that point,
classes were put on temporary hold in order to initiate airborne
training. Plans called for nearly all members of Establishment 22 to be
qualified as paratroopers. This made tactical sense: if the Tibetans
were to operate behind Chinese lines, the logical means of infiltrating
them to the other side of the Himalayas would be by parachute.
T. J. Thompson with two Tibetan student riggers, Agra airbase, summer
1963.
(Courtesy T. I. Thompson)
When told of the news, the Tibetans were extremely enthusiastic about
the prospect of jumping. There was a major problem, however.
Establishment 22 remained a secret not only from the general Indian
public but also from the bulk of the Indian military. The only airborne
training facilities in India were at Agra, where the CIA's T. J.
Thompson was discreetly training a dozen Tibetan riggers. Because the
Agra school ran jump training for the Indian army's airborne brigade,
Thompson had been forced to keep the twelve well concealed. But doing
the same for thousands of Tibetans would be impossible; unless careful
steps were taken, the project could be exposed.
Part of the CIA's dilemma was solved by the season. The weather in the
Indian lowlands during May was starting to get oppressively hot, making
the dusty Agra drop zones less than popular with the airborne brigade.
Most of the Tibetan jumps were intentionally scheduled around noon --
the least popular time slot, because the sun was directly overhead. The
Intelligence Bureau also arranged for the Tibetans to use crude
barracks in a distant corner of the air base, further reducing the
chance of an encounter with inquisitive paratroopers.
As an added precaution, a member of Brigadier Uban's staff went to an
insignia shop and placed an order for cap badges. Each badge featured
crossed kukri knife blades with the number 12 above. The reason: after
independence from the British, the Indian army had inherited seven
regiments of famed Gurkhas recruited from neighboring Nepal. Along with
four more regiments that transferred to the British army, the regiments
were numbered sequentially, with the last being the 11th Gorkha (the
Indian spelling of Gurkha) Rifles. On the assumption that most lowland
Indians would be unable to differentiate between the Asian features of
a Gurkha and those of a Tibetan, Establishment 22 was given the
fictitious cover designation "12th Gorkha Rifles" for the duration of
its stay at Agra. [14]
To oversee the airborne phase of instruction, Ken Seifarth relocated to
Agra. Five jumps were planned for each candidate, including one
performed at night. Because of the limited size of the barracks at the
air base, the Tibetans would rotate down to the lowlands in 100-man
cycles. With up to three jumps conducted each day, the entire
qualification process was expected to stretch through the summer.
All was going according to plan until the evening before the first
contingent was scheduled to jump. At that point, a message arrived
reminding Uban that the Indian military would not accept liability for
anyone older than thirty-five parachuting; in the event of death or
injury, the government would not pay compensation. This put Uban in a
major fix. It was vital for his staff to share training hazards with
their students, and he had assumed that his officers -- none of whom
were airborne qualified -- would jump alongside the Tibetans. But
although they had all completed the ground phase of instruction (which
had intentionally been kept simple, such as leaping off ledges into
piles of hay), his men had been under the impression that they would
not have to jump from an aircraft. Their lack of enthusiasm was now
reinforced by the government's denial of compensation. When Uban asked
for volunteers to accompany the guerrilla trainees, not a single Indian
officer stepped forward. [15]
For Uban, it was now a question of retaining the confidence of the
Tibetans or relinquishing his command. Looking to get special
permission for government risk coverage, he phoned Mullik that evening.
The intelligence director, however, was not at home. Taking what he
considered the only other option, Uban gathered his officers for an
emergency session. Although he had no prior parachute training, he told
his men that he intended to be the first one out of the lead aircraft.
This challenge proved hard to ignore. When the brigadier again asked
for volunteers, every officer stepped forward.
Uban now faced a new problem. With the first jump set for early the
next morning, he had a single evening to learn the basics. He summoned
a pair of CIA advisers to his room in Agra's Clarkes Shiraz Hotel.
Using the limited resources at hand, they put the tea table in the
middle of the room and watched as the brigadier rolled uncomfortably
across the floor.
Imaging the likely result of an actual jump, Seifarth spoke his mind.
At forty-seven years old, he was a generation older than his CIA
teammates and just a year younger than Uban. Drawing on the close
rapport they had developed over the previous weeks, he implored the
brigadier to reconsider. [16]
The next morning, 11 May, a C-119 Flying Boxcar crossed the skies over
Agra. As the twin-tailed transport aircraft came over the drop zone,
Uban was the first out the door, Seifarth the second. Landing without
incident, the brigadier belatedly received a return call from Mullik.
"Don't jump," said the intelligence chief. "Too late," was the
response. [17]
In the weeks that followed, the rest of Establishment 22 clamored for
their opportunity to leap from an aircraft. "Even cooks and drivers
demanded to go," recalled Uban. Nobody was rejected for age or health
reasons, including one Tibetan who had lost an eye and another who was
so small that he had to strap a sandbag to his chest to deploy the
chute properly. [18]
Nehru, meanwhile, was receiving regular updates on the progress at
Chakrata. During autumn, with the deployment of the eight-man CIA team
almost finished, he was invited to make an inspection visit to the hill
camp. The Intelligence Bureau also passed a request asking the prime
minister to use the opportunity to address the guerrillas directly.
Nehru was sympathetic but cautious. The thought of the prime minister
addressing Tibetan combatants on Indian soil had the makings of a
diplomatic disaster if word leaked. Afraid of adverse publicity, he
agreed to visit the camp but refused to give a speech.
Hearing this news, Uban had the men of Establishment 22 undergo a fast
lesson in parade drill. The effort paid off. Though stiff and formal
when he arrived on 14 November, Nehru was visibly moved when he saw the
Tibetans in formation. And knowing that the prime minister was soft for
roses, Uban presented him with a brilliant red blossom plucked from a
garden he had planted on the side of his stone bungalow. Nehru buckled.
Asking for a microphone, the prime minister poured forth some ad hoc
and heartfelt comments to the guerrillas. "He said that India backed
them," said Uban, "and vowed they would one day return to an
independent country." [19]"
Geir
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- OAK TREE
For the eight Indians -- six from the Indian air force, two from the
Intelligence Bureau -- even a van ride had become an abject lesson in
the finer points of tradecraft. Sent to Washington in mid- March 1963,
they were to be the cadre for the covert airlift cell conjured earlier
by Biju Patnaik and Bob Marrero. For the first two weeks, Marrero, who
was playing host, arranged for briefings at a row of CIA buildings near
the Tidal Basin.
By the beginning of April, the venue was set to change. A van pulled up
to their Washington hotel in the dead of night, and the eight Indians
plus Marrero piled into the back. All the windows were sealed, and the
Indians soon lost their bearings as the vehicle drove for an hour. When
they finally stopped, the rear doors opened nearly flush against a
second set of doors. Hurried through, they took seats in another
windowless cabin tucked inside the belly of an aircraft. [1]
Landing at an undisclosed airfield -- only years later would they learn
that it was inside Camp Peary -- the Indians were taken to an isolated
barracks. Over the next month, a steady stream of nameless officers
lectured on the full gamut of intelligence and paramilitary topics.
There were surreal touches throughout: their meals were prepared by
unseen cooks, and they would return to their rooms to find clothes
pressed by unseen launderers.
The leader of the eight Indians, Colonel Laloo Grewal, had a solid
reputation as a pioneer within the air force. A turbaned Sikh, he had
been commissioned as a fighter pilot in 1943 and flew over 100 sorties
during World War II in the skies over Burma. Immediately after
independence in 1947, he was among the first transport pilots to arrive
at the combat zone when India and Pakistan came to blows over Kashmir.
And in 1952, he was in the first class of Indian aviators selected to
head to the United States for transition training on the C-119
transport. When the call went out for a dynamic air force officer to
manage a secret aviation unit under the auspices of the Intelligence
Bureau and CIA, Grewal was the immediate choice.
Following the training stint at Peary, six of the students returned to
New Delhi. The two most senior members, Grewal included, remained for
several additional weeks of specialized aviation instruction. Marrero,
meanwhile, made arrangements in May to head for India to conduct the
comprehensive air survey broached with Biju Patnaik in their December
1962 meeting. Joining Marrero would be the same CIA air operations
officer who had been involved with the earliest drops into Tibet, Gar
Thorsrud.
Much had happened to Thorsrud since his last involvement with Tibet. In
the spring of 1961, he was briefly involved in Latin America. Later
that summer he shifted to Phoenix, Arizona, and was named president of
a new CIA front, Intermountain Aviation. [2]
Among CIA air proprietaries, Intermountain was in the forefront of
innovation. With its main operational base at Marana Air Park near
Tucson, Arizona, the company specialized in developing new aerial
support techniques. It was Intermountain, for example, that worked at
perfecting the Fulton Skyhook, a recovery method that whisked agents
from the ground using an aircraft with a special yoke on its nose.
Intermountain experts also experimented with the Timberline parachute
configuration (a resupply bundle with extra-long suspension lines to
allow penetration of tall jungle canopy) and the Ground Impact system
(a parachute with a retainer ring that did not blossom until the last
moment, allowing for pinpoint drops on pinnacle peaks). [3]
It was this eye for innovation that Thorsrud carried with him to India.
For three months, he and Marrero were escorted from the Himalayan
frontier to the airborne school at Agra to the Tibetan training site at
Chakrata. Much of their time was spent near the weathered airstrip at
Charbatia, where they were feted by the affable Patnaik. He offered use
of Charbatia as the principal site for a clandestine air support
operation and immediately secured funds from the prime minister for
reconstruction of the runway. Patnaik also donated steel furniture from
one of his factories, cleared out his Kalinga Air Lines offices to
serve as a makeshift officers' quarters, and even loaned two of his
Kalinga captains. "He was Nehru's fix-it guy," said Thorsrud. "He got
things done."
Returning to New Delhi after nearly three months, the two CIA men were
directed to a hotel room for a meeting with a representative of the
Intelligence Bureau, T. M. Subramanian. Known for his Hindu piety and
strict vegetarian diet, Subramanian had been serving as the bureau's
liaison officer at Agra since November, where he had been paymaster for
amenities offered to the USAF crewmen rushing military gear to India.
He was also one of the two intelligence officers who had been trained
at Camp Peary during April.
In the ensuing discussions between the CIA aviators and Subramanian,
both sides spoke in general terms about the best options for building
India's covert aviation capabilities. In one area the American officers
stood firm: the United States would not assist with the procurement of
spare parts, either directly or indirectly, for the many Soviet
aircraft in the Indian inventory. [4]
A subject not discussed was which U.S. aircraft would be the backbone
for the envisioned covert unit. Earlier in the spring, this had been
the subject of serious debate within the CIA. Wayne Sanford, the senior
paramilitary officer in New Delhi, had initially proposed selection of
the C-119. This made sense for several reasons. First, more than fifty
C-119 airframes had been in the Indian inventory since 1952; it was
therefore well known to the Indian pilots and mechanics. Second,
beginning in November 1962, the Indians had ordered special kits to add
a single turbojet atop the center wing section of half their C-119
fleet. The added thrust from this turbojet, tested in the field over
the previous months, allowed converted planes to operate at high
altitudes and fly heavy loads out of small fields. The United States
pledged in May 1963 to send another two dozen Flying Boxcars to India
from reserve USAF squadrons. [5]
Other CIA officials in Washington, however, were keen to present the
Indians with the C-46 Commando. A workhorse during World War II, the
C-46 had proved its ability to surmount the Himalayas while flying the
famed "Hump" route between India and China. More important, other CIA
operations in Asia -- primarily in Laos -- were making use of the C-46,
and the agency had a number of airframes readily available.
There were drawbacks with the C-46, however. It was notoriously
difficult to handle. Moreover, the Indians did not operate the C-46 in
their fleet, which meant that the pilots and mechanics would need a
period of transition. When CIA headquarters sent over a USAF officer to
sing the praises of the C-46 in overly simplistic terms, Grewal cut the
conversation short. Recalls Sanford, "He flatly told the U.S. officer
that he had been around C-46s longer than the American had been in the
air force." [6[
In the end, however, the Indians could not protest CIA largesse too
loudly. When Marrero and Thorsrud had their meeting with Subramanian,
selection of the C-46 was an unstated fait accompli. The next day,
Subramanian returned to the two CIA officers with a verbatim copy of
the hotel discussion. "Either he had a photographic memory," said
Thorsrud, "or somebody was listening in and taking notes." Both
Americans signed the aide-memoire as a working basis for cooperation.
[7]
As a final order of business, Marrero asked for an audience with
Mullik. With the Charbatia air base -- now code-named Oak Tree 1 --
still in the midst of reconstruction, the first aircraft deliveries
would not take place until early autumn. This did not dampen Marrero's
enthusiasm as he recounted the list of possible cooperative ventures
over the months ahead. The aloof Mullik replied with an indifferent
stare. "Bob, we will call you when we need you." [8]
Despite Mullik's lack of warmth, efforts to create the covert air unit
went ahead on schedule. On 7 September 1963, the Intelligence Bureau
officially created the Aviation Research Centre (ARC) as a front to
coordinate aviation cooperation with the CIA. Colonel Grewal was named
the first ARC operations manager at the newly completed Charbatia
airfield. He was given full latitude to handpick his pilots, all of
whom would take leave from the military and belong -- both
administratively and operationally -- to the ARC for the period of
their assignment.
In New Delhi, veteran intelligence officer Rameshwar Nath Kao took the
helm as the first ARC director. A Kashmiri Brahman like Nehru,
forty-five-year-old Kao was a spy in the classic sense. Tall and fair
skinned, he was a dapper dresser with impeccable schooling; he was a
Persian scholar and spoke fluent Farsi. Dignified and sophisticated, he
had long impressed the officers at the CIA's New Delhi station. "I had
the opportunity to drive with him from Kathmandu back to India,"
recalled one CIA official. "At each bridge we crossed, he would recount
its technical specifications in comparison to its ability to support
the heaviest tank in the Chinese inventory." [9]
To assist Kao and Grewal, the CIA dispatched Edward Rector to Charbatia
in the role of air operations adviser. Qualified as a U.S. Navy
dive-bomber pilot in 1940, Rector had joined Claire Chennault's famed
Flying Tigers the following year. He would later score that unit's
first kill of a Japanese aircraft and go on to become an ace. After
switching to the U.S. Army Air Forces (later the U.S. Air Force), he
retired as a colonel in January 1962.
Rector came to Oak Tree with considerable Indian experience. During his
Flying Tigers days, he had transited the subcontinent. And in late
1962, following his retirement from military service, he had gone to
India on a Pentagon contract to coordinate USAF C-130 flights carrying
emergency assistance to the front lines during the war with China.
Now serving with the CIA, Rector was on hand for the initial four
aircraft deliveries within a week of ARC's creation. First to arrive at
Oak Tree was a pair of C-46D Commandos; inside each was a disassembled
U-10Helio Courier. A five-seat light aircraft, the Helio Courier had
already won praise for its short takeoff and landing (STOL) ability in
the paramilitary campaign the CIA was sponsoring in Laos. Without
exaggeration, it could operate from primitive runways no longer than a
soccer field. More aircraft deliveries followed, totaling eight C-46
transports and four Helio Couriers by early 1964.
Under Rector's watch, the CIA arranged for the loan of some of the best
pilots from its Air America roster to act as instructors for the ARC
crews. Heading the C-46 conversion team was Bill Welk, a veteran of the
Tibet overflights. For the Helio Courier, Air America Captain James
Rhyne was dispatched to Oak Tree for a four-month tour. During this
same period, T. J. Thompson, who had been assisting with the Tibetans'
jump training at Agra, began work on a major parachute facility --
complete with dehumidifiers, drying towers, and storage space at
Charbatia. "By the time it was finished," said Thompson, "it was larger
than the facilities used by the U.S. Army in Germany." [10]
Under the tutelage of the Air America pilots, the ARC aircrew
contingent, including two captains on a one-year loan from Kalinga Air
Lines, proved quick studies. By the close of 1963, transition training
was nearly complete. For a graduation exercise, a demonstration was
planned at Charbatia for 2 January 1964. Among the attendees would be
Nehru himself.
Arriving on the assigned day, the prime minister took center seat in a
rattan chair with a parasol shading his head. On cue, a silver C-46
(ARC planes bore only small tail numbers and Indian civil markings)
materialized over Charbatia and dropped bags of rice and a paratrooper.
Then a Helio Courier roared in and came to a stop in an impossibly
small grassy patch in front of the reviewing stand. An "agent," hiding
in nearby bushes with a bag of "documents," rushed aboard the Helio.
Showcasing its STOL ability, the plane shot upward from the grass and
over the stands. Nehru, at once impressed and confused, turned to the
ARC and CIA officials in attendance and asked, "What was that?" [11]
***
While the CIA assistance at Chakrata and Charbatia was transpiring
under the auspices of the Near East Division, a separate Tibet program
had been taking shape since December 1962 under the Far East Division.
This program called for the training and infiltration of at least 125
Tibetan agents. But whereas the Near East Division was giving support
to what were essentially Indian projects, the roles were reversed for
the Far East Division's project -- at least as it was originally
conceived: the Indians would provide some minor assistance, but the Far
East Division would call the shots.
It was not long before the CIA saw the inherent weakness of this
arrangement. India, after all, would be party to the recruitment of
Tibetan agents on its soil and would likely be expected to provide rear
bases and staging areas. This greatly bothered the Special Group (as
had been the case with Uban's Chakrata force), which was leery of
authorizing paramilitary assistance to a project potentially subject to
an Indian veto, especially if New Delhi grew weary and withdrew its
commitment following a future rapprochement with Beijing.
To allay the Special Group's concerns, the CIA worked safeguards into
the Tibetan agent program. Agent training would focus on producing
self-sufficient three-man radio teams that could infiltrate Tibet, find
support, and build a local underground that could feed and shelter them
for extended periods without having to rely on lines of supply from
India.
Just as with Establishment 22, Gyalo Thondup was quick to buy into the
program and went off to recruit. The CIA, meanwhile, reopened Camp Hale
to handle the expected influx. Scrambling to piece together an
instructor staff, it found a willing volunteer in Bruce Walker, the
great-grandson of Methodist missionaries in China. Walker's moneyed
parents were family friends of Frank Wisner, the CIA's influential
deputy director for plans between 1952 and 1958. Joining the agency
with Wisner as his mentor, Walker spent his first four years in Latin
America before joining the Tibet Task Force in January 1960. Once
there, he proved adept at winning choice assignments. The agency paid
for him to spend almost a year at the University of Washington's newly
organized Tibet program to learn that country's language and history.
In March 1962, the CIA again sponsored him for language classes, this
time at Sikkim's Namgyal Institute of Tibetology. [12]
By the time Walker returned to the United States in the fall of 1962,
he had the basics of spoken Tibetan in hand. Given its investment in
his education, the CIA rushed him to Hale to prepare the camp for the
first wave of Tibetans. Ken Knaus, chief of the Tibet Task Force in
Washington, would again be on hand to offer occasional lectures. There
was also a stream of smoke jumpers -- including brothers Miles and
Shep Johnson -- available for parachute instruction. The USAF even
provided experts to teach survival tips. Overall command of the
training would be held by Robert Eschbach, an OSS veteran.
In India, meanwhile, a search had commenced for suitable translators.
All but one of the previous Tibetans serving in that role were
unavailable. One of the new candidates, Wangchuk Tsering, was the
nephew of a former trade commissioner at Kalimpong. An English student
since 1956, he had been writing for the Tibetan Freedom Press in
Darjeeling when Gyalo made a recruitment pitch in December 1962. Along
with forty-five agent trainees, Wangchuk immediately left for New Delhi
in a bus. Unlike the earlier shadowy ex filtrations across the East
Pakistan frontier, this time they departed with Indian escorts from the
capital's Palam Airport. [13]
By February 1963, four groups totaling 135 Tibetans (ten more than
originally planned) had arrived at Hale. Gyalo had been instructed to
restrict these recruits to the younger generation, unlike the crowd of
seniors at Mustang and Establishment 22. Although the Khampas were
still the overwhelming majority, 5 percent were from Amdo, and another
5 percent were from central Tibet. There was even a pair of Golok
tribesmen from the Amdo plains who spoke an unintelligible dialect. "We
used the same written language," said interpreter Wangchuk (now going
by the call sign "Arnold"), "so all instructions we're given to them on
paper." [14]
On the political front, Gyalo arrived in the United States during late
spring and called on Michael Forrestal, then special assistant to the
President. Through Forrestal, the Dalai Lama's brother was told that
Kennedy offered his deepest sympathy on behalf of the American people
for the plight of the Tibetans. In time-honored doublespeak, Kennedy
also said that the U.S. government desired to do what it could within
the limits of practical and political circumstances to improve the
Tibetans' fortunes. This was the fullest statement of U.S. support to
that time.
As scheduled, the Hale training concluded by June 1963. Before the
Tibetans could return, however, the CIA shifted the goalposts. Although
the Special Group had earlier argued that the Tibetan agents should be
more self-reliant -- and therefore less vulnerable to any future chill
in New Delhi -- the agency was suddenly taking the exact opposite tack
and looking to hook New Delhi into more meaningful cooperation.
Specifically, the CIA wanted to use the covert airlift unit at
Charbatia for infiltration. A new operational plan now called for the
dispatch of five teams by Indian aircraft and twenty-nine teams
overland to the area between Lhasa and the border with Bhutan.
Notified of the revised scheme, New Delhi balked. Though not rejecting
the plan outright, the Indians indicated a strong reluctance to
participate in any air-drops at the present time. "They wanted us to do
the drops," said paramilitary adviser Wayne Sanford, "and not incur
Chinese wrath if one was downed." [15]
For the CIA instructors at Hale, India's reluctance translated into
delays in returning their students to Tibet. Tibetans had been stranded
in Colorado once before (when Pakistan had closed its border), but this
time the problem was exacerbated by the large size of the contingent.
Realizing that boredom would soon set in and morale would suffer, the
staff quickly expanded the curriculum to include classes on tradecraft
such as wiretapping and lectures on Marxist Leninism and the new
Tibetan constitution. Walker even arranged for Dr. Terrell Wylie, who
headed the Tibet program at the University of Washington and was fluent
in the language, to speak to the agents on Tibetan history at a
makeshift outdoor amphitheater. [16]
By early autumn, the Tibetans could absorb no more and were clearly
growing impatient. One of the Khampa students, Cheme Namgyal (known by
the call sign "Conrad"), was famed among his peers for having been in a
rebel band that downed a Chinese bomber in 1956 with machine guns.
Eager to do battle with the PLA again, he was frustrated with the
delays. "We ended up playing lots and lots of volleyball," he recalls.
[17]
After further negotiations, a breakthrough finally came in September
1963. Still looking to draw New Delhi into a substantial role, the CIA
now had India's agreement to open a joint operations center in New
Delhi that would direct the dispatch of agents into Tibet and monitor
their activities. The revised plan scrapped parachute insertions in
favor of overland infiltrations and called for about twenty singleton
resident agents in Tibet, plus (to sweeten its appeal to New Delhi) a
pair of road-watch teams "to report possible Chinese Communist
build-ups" and another six "border watch communications teams" to take
up positions along the frontier. Radio reports from the agents and
teams would be received at a new communications center to be built at
Charbatia. With the first group of forty Hale graduates scheduled to
return to India in November, the secret struggle for Tibet was starting
to simmer. [18]"
Geir
that are polluting it and thus destroying it and which must be ripped
out to save the essnece of Buddhism throughout the world that's getting
polluted by these frauds.
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- THE JOELIKOTE BOYS
As the CIA's covert program for Tibet regained momentum toward the end
of 1963, strict compartmentalization among its component projects fell
by the wayside. This had become readily apparent to Wayne Sanford, who
extended his tour in October to remain as the U.S. embassy's resident
CIA paramilitary adviser responsible for ongoing assistance to
Establishment 22. One of his first duties after extending his tour was
to escort T. M. Subramanian, the intelligence officer now working under
ARC, to Camp Hale. Some of the Hale trainees, it had been decided,
would be redirected from agent operations to Uban's guerrillas at
Chakrata. [1]
The nuances in this were significant. Establishment 22 was an Indian
operation supported by the Near East Division. The Hale agent training,
however, had originally been conceived as a unilateral Far East
Division project with limited Indian exposure. Now the assets from one
division's program were being transferred to another -- and the Indians
were full partners on both.
Much the same thing had happened to the guerrilla army at Mustang. When
first launched by the Far East Division, the Mustang operation had been
conducted behind India's back. During the Harriman mission, however,
Mullik had been fully briefed, and discussions over the best way of
jointly running the guerrillas soon followed.
The CIA and Intelligence Bureau, it was discovered, held widely
disparate views on Mustang, which was home to 2,030 Tibetan irregulars
as of early 1963. Less than half of them had been properly equipped
during the two previous CIA airdrops. Realizing that the unarmed men
were a ball and chain on the rest, the agency devised a plan to
parachute weapons to an additional 700 men sent to ten drop zones
inside Tibet. The purpose of this was twofold. First, it would force
them to leave their Mustang sanctuary and take up a string of positions
inside their homeland. Second, it would go far toward rectifying the
disparity between armed and unarmed volunteers.
When this plan was taken to Mullik, his reaction was poor. Just as the
Indians had balked at aerial infiltration for the Hale agents, they
preferred no Mustang drops by Indian aircraft (ARC was close to
formation at the time), for fear of provoking the Chinese. When the CIA
proposed that U.S. aircraft do the job -- but insisted on Indian
landing rights -- New Delhi was again reticent.
Frustrated, the CIA in the early fall of 1963 hastily arranged for an
airlift company to be established inside Nepal. Allocated a pair of
Bell 47G helicopters and two U.S. rotary-wing pilots -- one of whom was
released from Air America for the job -- the Kathmandu-based entity,
called Air Ventures, theoretically could have solved the airdrop
problem by choppering supplies to collection points near Mustang.
As it turned out, there was no need for Air Ventures to fly any covert
missions. By September, at the same time agreement was reached on
establishing a joint operations center in New Delhi, the CIA and
Intelligence Bureau came up with a new plan for the unarmed men at
Mustang to be reassigned to Establishment 22 at Chakrata. It was also
agreed that nonlethal supplies for the armed portion of Mustang --
which was estimated at no more than 835 guerrillas -- would go overland
through India and be coordinated through the New Delhi center. In
addition, some of the Hale graduates would go to Mustang to assist with
radio operations. Once again, distinctions between the various Tibet
projects were becoming blurred. [2]
During the same month, CIA officers beckoned Mustang leader Baba Yeshi
to New Delhi to gain his approval for the reassignment scheme.
Unfortunately for the agency, the chieftain was not happy when he was
told that his force would be more than halved. With Lhamo Tsering
providing translations, talks remained deadlocked for the next week.
Opting to seek the counsel of Khampa leader Gompo Tashi, they shifted
the debate to Calcutta. Gompo Tashi had recently returned there after
half a year in a London hospital, where he had sought relief from
lingering war injuries. Still weak, he refused to take sides. [3]
Defiantly, Baba Yeshi went back to Mustang. From the perspective of a
Khampa tribal leader, his reluctance to downsize Mustang was both
understandable and predictable. In true chieftain fashion, he had spent
the previous two years patiently padding his command. The results on
several fronts were laudable. The bleak food situation, for example,
had been fully rectified. With occasional funds channeled by the CIA, a
small team of Khampas purchased meat, butter, and rice at Pokhara and
sent the supplies north on pack animals. Baba Yeshi's Khampas also
procured local barley for a tsampa mill they established in the Mustang
village of Kagbeni. His men were eating; malnourishment was a thing of
the past. [4]
The quality of his fighters was also improving. Unlike Mustang's first
wave of aged recruits, the steady stream of trainees arriving in
Mustang during 1963 were either in their late teens or young adults.
Many hailed from central Tibet, providing a more representative mix
than the previous Khampa-dominated ranks.
Because most of the young arrivals came with no previous guerrilla
experience, the Mustang leadership had spent much of 1963
institutionalizing its training procedures. A more formal camp was set
up at Tangya to offer between three and six months of drills in rock
climbing, river crossing, partisan warfare, and simple tradecraft.
Graduates were then posted to one of Mustang's sixteen guerrilla
companies, each of which had a Hale-trained instructor for refresher
courses. [5]
Baba Yeshi had made some personalized gains as well. Because his
headquarters at Tangya was uncomfortable during the coldest months, in
1963 he focused considerable energy on establishing a new winter base
at the village of Kaisang. Located seven kilometers southeast of
Jomsom, Kaisang was tucked at the base of the massive Annapurna. More
than just a beautiful vista, the new base included a comfortable
two-floor house for Baba Yeshi; it had a vegetable garden, Tibetan
mastiffs chained to the front gate, and a Tibetan flag fluttering from
a tall staff. Ten guards patrolled the perimeter, screening guerrilla
subordinates who wished an audience with their commandant.
Sitting in Kaisang with hundreds of loyalists under arms, Baba Yeshi
had few local rivals for power. The thinly spread royal Nepalese armed
forces maintained almost no presence around Mustang. Even Mustang's
royalty, greatly weakened by internecine fighting during 1964, was
increasingly deferential toward its Tibetan guests. In a telling
gesture, the crown prince of Lo Monthang (his brother, the king, had
died under mysterious circumstances earlier that year) traveled by
horseback to Kaisang to attend a Tibetan cultural show hosted by the
Mustang guerrilla leader. [6]
Against these gains, precious little had been done to progress the war
inside Tibet. In theory, the guerrillas intended to concentrate their
cross-border forays during the winter, when the frozen Brahmaputra was
easily fordable and the Chinese were less likely to patrol. In reality,
hardly any guerrilla activities emanated from Mustang at any time of
year. During all of 1963 and most of 1964, not a single truck was
ambushed (land mines were occasionally laid, without any known
success), and no PLA outposts were attacked. [7]
One notable exception took place in mid-1964. Two years earlier, a
ten-man guerrilla team had been dispatched 130 kilometers east of
Mustang to establish a lone outpost in the mountainous Nepalese border
region known as Tsum. Led by a thirty-two-year-old Khampa named Tendar,
they had among them a single Bren machine gun and a mix of M1 carbines
and rifles. Without a radio or ready source of supplies, however,
little offensive action was attempted. During their few overnight
forays into Tibet, Tendar and his men had seen truck traffic only once
and had never inflicted any damage. [8]
In early June 1964, their dry spell was set to end. Without warning,
three white men bearing camera equipment appeared at the remote camp.
The spokesman among the three was none other than George Patterson, the
former missionary who had taught in Kham during the early 1950s and had
since become an international advocate for the Tibetan cause. Patterson
was now leading a British television team seeking footage of a
guerrilla attack against the PLA. Speaking in the Kham dialect, the
ex-missionary pleaded with Tendar to stage a raid for the cameras. [9]
Hearing Patterson's pitch, the guerrilla leader was torn. He would have
preferred to ask permission from his guerrilla superiors at Mustang,
but Tendar was handed two sealed envelopes that the missionary said
were letters of support from senior Tibetan officials. Still uncertain,
Tendar went to a nearby temple and cast dice. The dice were
unequivocal: they told him to stage the mission.
Instructed by the fates, Tendar on 6 June began a day-long journey
across the border with eight fellow guerrillas and the three
foreigners. They split into four groups on a ridgeline overlooking a
border road. Coincidentally, four trucks came into view that same
afternoon. Tendar, in the closest group, fired his carbine at the front
seat of the lead truck. After a spirited attack -- which provided
plenty of good camera footage -- the guerrillas left behind three
riddled vehicles and an estimated eight Chinese casualties. One Khampa
was seriously injured in the face and shoulder but managed to get back
to Tsum. [10]
It did not take long for word of the truck ambush to spread. In the
mistaken belief that Baba Yeshi had invited the cameramen along to
court unauthorized publicity, CIA officers in India couriered a
reprimand and stopped the flow of funds for half a year. Tendar,
meanwhile, was recalled to Mustang to face a round of criticism and
reassignment to an administrative job. Together, these negative
repercussions were ample incentive for a return to inactivity. Said one
senior guerrilla, "We went on existing for the sake of existence." [11]
***
With Mustang relegated to a sideshow, the focus of joint Indo-U.S.
cooperation shifted to the agent program. To monitor this effort, the
New Delhi joint operations center -- dubbed the Special Center -- was
formally established in November 1963. To house the site, Intelligence
Bureau officers arranged to rent a modest villa in the F block of the
posh Haus Khaz residential neighborhood. [12]
Ken Knaus, the first CIA representative to the Special Center, arrived
in India during the final week of November. Although Knaus had the
perfect background for the role -- he had been heading the Tibet Task
Force for almost two years -- the assignment raised some eyebrows
because it resurrected an earlier turf war.
When CIA assistance was still being provided without India's
complicity, the Near East Division -- in the form of deputy station
chief Bill Grimsley -- had assumed responsibility for coordinating the
effort out of the U.S. embassy in New Delhi. Now a Far East Division
representative, Knaus was back on Indian soil. According to colleagues
within the division, his welcome from peers at the embassy was somewhat
muted. [13]
Knaus faced another opening hurdle as well. In previous years, the
Tibet Task Force had counted on strong headquarters support from the
Far East Division's dynamic chief, Des FitzGerald. Knaus, in fact, was
one of his personal favorites. In January 1963, however, FitzGerald
transferred from the Far East slot to oversee the ongoing paramilitary
campaign against Cuba. His replacement, William Colby, not only was
consumed by the escalating conflict in Vietnam but also was developing
a pronounced aversion toward agent operations behind communist lines.
[14]
Despite all this, Knaus spent his first month focusing on the center's
impending operations. On 4 January 1964, he was joined by a sharp
Bombay native nicknamed Rabi. A math major in college, Rabi had joined
the police force upon graduation but soon switched to the Intelligence
Bureau. He had been assigned to its China section and spent many years
operating from remote outposts in Assam and NEFA. Now chosen as the
Indian representative to the Special Center, he internally transferred
to the ARC. More than merely an airlift unit, the ARC was now acting as
the section of the Intelligence Bureau that would work alongside the
CIA on joint efforts with the Tibet agents and guerrillas at Mustang.
In April, Knaus and Rabi were joined by a Tibetan representative,
Kesang Kunga. A soft-spoken former district governor and monk, Kesang
-- better known as Kay Kay -- came from a landed family in central
Tibet. After fleeing to India, he had risen to chief editor at the
Tibetan press facilities in Darjeeling. From there he oversaw the
printing of Freedom, a newsweekly distributed among the refugee camps.
He had been personally chosen by Gyalo Thondup to represent Tibetan
interests at the Special Center.
Under Kay-Kay was a small team of Tibetan assistants. Three members
were former Hale translators. There was also a pool of eight Hale
graduates from the 1963 training class; half provided radio assistance
at the Special Center, and the other half performed similar tasks at
the radio relay center being set up at Charbatia.
One of the Special Center's biggest challenges was keeping its New
Delhi activities secret from the Indian public. In the midst of
residential housing, the presence of foreign nationals -- both the
Tibetans and Knaus -- was certain to draw attention. To guard against
this, Knaus (who normally came to the center three times a week) was
shielded in the back of a jeep until he was inside the garage. Similar
precautions were taken with the Tibetans, who were ferried between a
dormitory and the center in a blacked-out van. "We were not allowed to
step outside," said one Tibetan officer, "until 1972."
By the time Kay-Kay got his assignment in the spring of 1964, most of
the 135 agent trainees had returned to India from Hale. [15] Two dozen
were diverted to Establishment 22 at Chakrata, and another eight manned
the radio sets at Charbatia and the Special Center. The remainder --
slightly more than 100 -- were taken to a holding camp outside the
village of Joelikote near the popular hill station of Nainital. Built
close to the shores of a mountain lake and surrounded by pine and oak
forests, Joelikote once hosted Colonel Jim Corbett, the famed hunter
who tracked some of the most infamous man-eating tigers and leopards on
record (two were credited with killing more than 400 villagers apiece).
[16]
As the agents assembled at Joelikote -- where Rabi promptly dubbed them
"The Joelikote Boys" -- they were divided into radio teams, each
designated by a letter of the alphabet. The size of the teams varied,
with some numbering as few as two agents and several with as many as
five; contrary to the previous year's plan to dispatch lone operatives,
none would be going as singletons. As their main purpose would be to
radio back social, political, economic, and military information, the
CIA provided radios ranging from the durable RS-1 to the RS-48 (a
high-speed-burst model originally developed for use in Southeast Asia)
and a sophisticated miniature set with a burst capability and solar
cells. The teams would also be charged with gauging the extent of local
resistance; when appropriate, they were to spread propaganda and extend
a network of sympathizers. Although they were not to engage in sabotage
or other attacks, the agents would carry pistols (Canadian-made
Brownings to afford the United States plausible deniability) for self-
defense.
During April, the first wave of ten radio teams began moving from
Joelikote to launch sites along the border. Team A, consisting of two
agents, took up a position in the Sikkimese capital of Gangtok. Team B,
also two men, filed into the famed colonial summer capital of Shimla.
Just eighty kilometers from Establishment 22 at Chakrata, Shimla had
not changed much since the days the British had ruled one-fifth of
humankind from this small Himalayan settlement. Three teams -- D, V,
and Z -- were sent to Tuting, a NEFA backwater already host to 2,000
Tibetan refugees. Two others -- T and Y -- crossed into easternmost
Nepal and established a camp outside the village of Walung. Another two
teams went to Mustang to provide Baba Yeshi's guerrillas with improved
radio links to Charbatia. [17]
The tenth set of agents -- two men known as Team Q -- headed into the
kingdom of Bhutan. The Bhutanese, though ethnic kin, harbored mixed
feelings toward the Tibetans. With only a small population of its own,
Bhutan had attempted to discourage further refugee arrivals after the
first influx of 3,000. Then in April 1964, the country's prime minister
was killed by unknown assailants. Coincidentally, this happened at the
same time Team Q was crossing the border, sparking unfounded rumors
that the Tibetans were attempting to overthrow the kingdom. As the
rumors escalated into diplomatic protests, the two agents were quietly
withdrawn, and Bhutan was never again contemplated as a launch site.
[18]
Aside from the stillborn Team Q and the two others at Mustang, the
other seven teams had been briefed on targets before departing
Joelikote. These had been generated by the CIA and Intelligence Bureau;
Knaus had access to the latest intelligence for this purpose, including
satellite imagery. He and Rabi then consulted with Kay-Kay, who
endorsed the missions. All involved testing the waters inside Tibet to
determine whether an underground could, or did, exist. [19]
During the same month the teams headed for the border, Gyalo Thondup
established a political party in India. Called Cho Kha Sum ("Defense of
Religion by the Three Regions," a reference to Kham, Amdo, and U
Tsang), the party promoted the liberal ideals found in the Tibetan
constitution that had been promulgated by the Dalai Lama the previous
spring. Part of Gyalo's intent was to develop a political consciousness
among the Tibetan diaspora. But even more important, the party was
designed to reinforce a message of noncommunist nationalism that the
agent teams would be taking to potential underground members inside
Tibet. Gyalo even arranged for a party newsletter to be printed, copies
of which would be carried and distributed by the teams in their
homeland.
Getting the agents to actually cross the frontier was a wholly
different matter. By early summer, three of the teams -- in Sikkim,
Shimla, and Walling -- had done little more than warm their launch
sites. A second set of agents in Walung, Team Y, had better luck. One
of its members, a young Khampa going by the call sign "Clyde," headed
alone across the Nangpa pass for a survey. He took a feeder trail north
for fifty kilometers and approached the Tibetan town of Tingri. Located
along the traditional route linking Kathmandu and Lhasa, Tingri was a
popular resting place for an assortment of pilgrims and traders; as a
result, Clyde's Kham origins attracted little attention. Better still,
Tingri was surrounded by cave hermitages that offered good concealment.
[20]
The Indian frontier
Returning to Walling with this information, Clyde briefed his four
teammates. Three -- Robert, Dennie, and team leader Reg -- were fellow
Khampas; the last -- Grant -- was from Amdo. Following the same route
used during the survey, the five arrived at the caves and set up camp.
Tingri, they discovered, was ripe for an underground. Venturing into
town to procure supplies, the team took volunteers back to its redoubt
for ad hoc leadership training. They debriefed the locals for items of
intelligence value and used their solar-powered burst radio to send two
messages a week back to Charbatia. Settling into a routine, they
prepared to wait out the approaching winter from the vantage of their
cave.
Good luck was also experienced by the three teams operating from the
border village of Tuting. Team D, consisting of four Khampas, arrived
at its launch site with one Browning pistol apiece and a single
survival rifle. Their target was the town of Pemako, eighty kilometers
to the northeast. Renowned among Tibetans as a "hidden heaven" because
of its mild weather and ring of surrounding mountains, this area had
been the destination of many Khampas fleeing the Chinese invasion in
1950. The PLA, by contrast, had barely penetrated the vicinity because
no roads could be built due to the harsh topography and abundant
precipitation. [21]
That same rainfall made the trip for Team D a slog. Covering only part
of the distance to their target by late in the year, most of the agents
were ready to return to the relatively appealing creature comforts in
Tuting. Just one member, Nolan, chose to stay for the winter. Wishing
him luck, his colleagues promised to meet again in the spring of 1965.
[22]
Much the same experience was recounted by the five men of Team Z.
Targeted toward Pemako, they conducted a series of shallow forays to
contact border villagers and collect data on PLA patrols. Finally
making a deeper infiltration near year's end, they encountered some
sympathizers and the makings of an underground. By that time, most of
the agents were eager to return before the approaching winter. Just as
with Team D, one of its members, Chris, elected to stay through spring
with his embryonic partisan movement. [23]
The final group of agents from Turing, Team V, was targeted eighty
kilometers west toward the town of Meilling. Located along the banks of
the Brahmaputra, this low-lying region featured high rainfall and lush
forests. Many locals in the area, though conversant in Tibetan, were
animists, with their own unique language and style of dress.
Despite such ethnic differences, one of Team V's members, Stuart, had a
number of relatives living in the vicinity. With their assistance, the
team was able to contact a loose underground of resisters. Shielded by
these sympathizers -- who even helped them steal some PLA supplies when
their cache was exhausted -- the five men of Team V radioed back their
intent to remain through the winter.
***
Reviewing their progress in November 1964, Knaus, Rabi, and Kay-Kay had
some reason for cheer. Of the ten teams dispatched to date, four had at
least some of their members still inside Tibet. All four, too, had
identified sympathetic countrymen. Encouraged by these results, the
Special Center representatives penned plans to launch a second round of
nine teams the following spring, when the mountain passes would be free
of snow. Slowly, the secret war for Tibet was shifting from simmer to
low boil."
Geir
the exile and Tibet's coming out into the modern world and it's
disastrous track record in that seeing it led to hords of frauds coming
out of Tiebtan Buddhism which all have to be debunked, broken and
cleaned up now. (Tomorrow's the last day opf this posting of the book
here : then it's all about the frauds of Buddhism like Trungpa and we
all come full circle with this thread from the beginning... that was
all about that : debunking and denouncing the frauds in it.)
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- OMENS
On the afternoon of 16 October 1964, the arid desert soil around Lop
Nur in central Xinjiang Province rippled from the effect of a
twenty-kiloton blast. "This is a major achievement of the Chinese
people," read the immediate press communique out of Beijing, "in their
struggle to oppose the U.S. imperialist policy of nuclear blackmail."
[1]
The detonation had not been unexpected. For the past few months, the
United States had been closely tracking China's nuclear program using
everything from satellite photographs to a worldwide analysis of media
statements made by Chinese diplomats. India, still smarting from the
1962 war, had supported this collection effort by allowing the CIA to
use Charbatia in April to secretly stage U-2 flights over Xinjiang. By
late September, there were enough indications for senior officials in
Washington to publicly predict the blast three weeks prior to the
event. [2]
Such forewarning did nothing to dampen anxiety in New Delhi. This
resulted in a windfall of sorts for the Tibet project, with the CIA
using the Indians' more permissive attitude to push for a series of
covert initiatives aimed at raising Tibet's worldwide profile. The
first such scheme was an effort to recruit and train a cadre of Tibetan
officers for use as administrators and foreign representatives. An
advisory committee of U.S. academics and retired diplomats was
established to oversee this project, with Cornell University agreeing
to play host and the CIA footing the bill.
In the fall of 1964, an initial group of four Tibetans arrived at the
Cornell campus for nine months of course work in linguistics,
comparative government, economics, and anthropology. Among the four
were former Hale translators Bill and Mark; both had been at Georgetown
University over the previous two years honing their English skills. A
second group, totaling eight Tibetans, arrived in the fall of the
following year. Included was former Hale translator Thinlay "Rocky"
Paljor and Lobsang Tsultrim, the nephew of one of the Dalai Lama's
bodyguards. As a teenager, Lobsang had joined the entourage that fled
Tibet with the monarch in 1959. Midway through the semester, half of
the class was quietly taken down to Silver Spring, Maryland, where they
were kept in a CIA safe house for a month of spy-craft instruction; all
eight later reassembled, completed their studies at Cornell, and went
back to India together. [3]
These first dozen Cornell-trained Tibetans were put to immediate use.
Three were assigned to the Special Center. Others were posted to one of
the CIA-supported Tibet representative offices in New Delhi, Geneva,
and New York. The New Delhi mission -- officially known as the Bureau
of His Holiness the Dalai Lama -- was headed by a former Tibetan
finance minister and charged with maintaining contact with the various
embassies in the Indian capital. The Office of Tibet in Geneva, led by
the Dalai Lama 's older brother Lobsang Sam ten, focused on staging
cultural programs in neutral Switzerland. [4]
The New York Office of Tibet, which included three Cornell graduates,
formally opened in April 1964 following a U.S. visit by Gyalo Thondup.
This office concentrated on winning support for the Tibetan cause at
the United Nations, which was becoming an increasingly difficult
prospect. In December 1965, Gyalo was successful in pushing a
resolution on Tibet through the General Assembly for the third time,
but some twenty-six nations -- including Nepal and Pakistan -- joined
the ranks of those supporting China on the issue. [5]
During a break from lobbying at the United Nations, Gyalo had ventured
down to Washington for meetings with U.S. officials. Among them was Des
FitzGerald; one of the strongest advocates of the Tibet program within
the CIA, he had since left his Cuba assignment and in the spring of
1965 was promoted to deputy director of plans, putting him in charge of
all agency covert operations. FitzGerald used the opportunity to invite
Gyalo to dinner at the elite Federalist Club. Joining them was Frank
Holober, who had returned from an unpaid sabbatical in September 1965
to take over the vacant Tibet Task Force desk within the China Branch.
Remembers Holober, "Des loved Gyalo, fawned over him. He would say, 'In
an independent country, you would be the perfect foreign minister.'"
Gyalo proved his abilities in another CIA-supported venture. Because
the Dalai Lama had long desired the creation of a central Tibetan
cultural institution, the agency supplied Gyalo with secret funds to
assemble a col1ection of wall hangings -- called thankas -- and other
art treasures from all the major Tibetan Buddhist sects. A plot of land
was secured in the heart of New Delhi, and the Tibet House --
consisting of a museum, library, and emporium -- was officially opened
in October 1965 by the Indian minister of education and the Dalai Lama.
It remains a major attraction to this day.
***
India's more permissive attitude allowed for increasingly sensitive
Indo-U.S. intelligence operations. Some efforts were in conjunction
with the Republic of China on Taiwan, which was one of the few nations
that equaled even surpassed India and the United States in its seething
opposition to Beijing. Taipei, for example, was allowed to station
Chinese translators at Charbatia to monitor PRC radio traffic. ROC
intelligence officers were even permitted to open remote listening
outposts along the Indo Tibetan frontier. This last effort was highly
compartmentalized, even within the CIA staff in India. Wayne Sanford,
the agency's paramilitary officer in New Delhi, was shocked when Indian
officials escorted him to one of the border sites. He recalls,
"Subramanian took me to the main listening post on October 10 (1965] ,
which is the big Ten Ten holiday on Taiwan. The Chinese commander saw
me and asked if I had ever been on Da Chen island. I said, 'Yup.' He
then asked if I had been aboard a PT evacuation boat from Da Chen. I
said, 'Yup.' We then got drunk together to catch up on old times." [6]
Another sensitive project combined the CIA, the Intelligence Bureau,
and the top mountain climbers from both nations. Conceived in late 1964
following the first PRC atomic test, this operation cal1ed for
placement of a nuclear-powered sensor atop Kanchenjunga, the third
tallest mountain bordering Sikkim and Nepal. From its vantage atop the
Himalayas, the sensor would theoretically relay telemetry data from
intermediate-range ballistic missiles the Chinese were developing at
test sites in Xinjiang. Because Kanchenjunga was later deemed too
challenging -- it is one of the world's hardest peaks to scale, even
without the extra weight of sensitive equipment -- the target was
shifted in 1965 to India's Nanda Devi. That October, a device was
carried near the summit, but before the climbers had a chance to
activate its generator, worsening weather forced them to secure the
equipment in a crevice until they could return the following spring.
[7]
Some of the most tangible Indo-U.S. cooperation was in the expansion of
the ARC fleet at Charbatia. By 1964, a total of ten C-46 transports and
four Helio STOL planes had been delivered to the Indians. [8] Late that
year, they were augmented by two more STOL airframes that were a unique
adaptation of the Helio. Known as the Twin Helio, these planes looked
exactly like the single-engine version, but with two propellers placed
above and forward of the wings. Developed in 1960 with the CIA's war in
Laos in mind, the Twin Helio's engine's placement allowed for
unrestricted lateral visibility and reduced the possibility of
propeller damage from debris at primitive airstrips. Only five were
ever built, with one field-tested in Bolivia during the summer of 1964
and another handed over to the CIA's quasi-proprietary in Nepal, Air
Ventures, in August. [9]
A Twin Helio STOL plane during USAF trials in 1961; this aircraft was
later turned over
to ARC. (Courtesy Harry Aderholt)
Of the planes delivered to the ARC, several received further
modifications in India. To provide for an eavesdropping capability, CIA
technicians in 1964 transformed one of the C-46 airframes into an
electronic intelligence (ELINT) platform. This plane flew regular
orbits along the Himalayas, recording Chinese telecommunications
signals from inside Tibet. For some of the nine remaining C- 6
transports, ARC became a test bed during 1966 for a unique adaptation.
Much like the jet packs strapped to the C-119 Flying Boxcars during
1962, four 1,000-pound rocket boosters were placed on the bottom of the
C-46 fuselages to allow heavy loads to be safely carried from some of
India's highest airfields. [10]
Such cooperation, however, masked tension under the surface. At the
highest levels of government, problems were evident by early 1964.
Following the assassination of John Kennedy the previous November, the
new administration of President Lyndon Johnson withheld approval of a
five-year military assistance package negotiated by his predecessor.
Not helping matters was the fact that Johnson was increasingly consumed
by the Vietnam War, leaving him little time to thoughtfully contemplate
South Asia.
During the following year, bilateral strains were exacerbated by the
Indo-Pakistan conflict that autumn. Pakistan initiated hostilities in
August when it attempted to seize the contested Kashmir by infiltrating
thousands of guerrillas. After that effort faltered, Karachi crossed
the frontier with tanks. India responded in kind, leading to some of
the bloodiest armor battles since World War II.
For the next month, the United States remained in the background as the
subcontinent teetered on the edge of all-out war. Relying on the United
Nations to broker a cease-fire, Washington did little apart from cut
the flow of additional weapons to Pakistan. By effectively walking away
from the region, the Johnson administration infuriated both sides:
India was incensed because Pakistan had used U.S. weapons; Pakistan
felt betrayed because the United States, a treaty partner, had not come
to its assistance. Although the special U.S. Pakistani alliance was now
effectively dead, no points had been scored with India. [11]
The Soviet Union, meanwhile, was patiently working overtime to mend
fences with New Delhi. In September 1964, it signed a deal not only to
sell India the MiG-21 jet but also to allow mass production in Indian
factories. The Soviets even impinged on areas of cooperation between
the CIA and the Intelligence Bureau. During 1965, Moscow offered -- and
New Delhi accepted -- a pair of Mi-4 helicopters for the ARC.
***
Nobody was more concerned about the deterioration of Indo U .S.
relations than Ambassador Chester Bowles. No stranger to the
subcontinent -- having served as ambassador to India a decade earlier
-- Bowles had replaced Galbraith in the summer of 1963. The two
differed in several important ways. Galbraith, the consummate Kennedy
insider, left India on a high note after winning military assistance in
New Delhi's hour of need. Bowles, by contrast, was a relative outsider
(he reportedly made Kennedy "uncomfortable") who arrived just as the
post-November 1962 honeymoon had run its course. [12] The two also
differed in their attitude toward the CIA. Initially a die-hard
opponent of CIA activities on his diplomatic turf, Galbraith had
reversed his position during the 1962 war to become an open -- if not
outspoken -- proponent of the agency's activities in the subcontinent.
[13]
Bowles, who inherited the CIA's cooperative ventures already in
progress, was largely silent about the agency during his first two
years in New Delhi. Wayne Sanford, the CIA paramilitary officer who had
provided regular updates for Galbraith, had not even met Bowles for a
briefing by the summer of 1965. [14]
But with Indo-U.S. tension gaining momentum, Bowles became more
conscious of the damage being done to bilateral intelligence
cooperation. In a bid to reverse the estrangement, he lent his support
to a September 1965 CIA proposal to provide the ARC with three C-130
transports, an aircraft the Indians had been eyeing for five years. The
offer came at a particularly opportune time. At Charbatia, Ed Rector
had finished his tour and been replaced as air adviser by Moose
Marrero, who had a long history of contact with Biju Patnaik and the
original ARC cadre.
As it turned out, Marrero's past ties had only minimal effect. The
C-130 deal encountered repeated delays, largely because the irate
Indians did not want to remain vulnerable to a fickle U.S. spare- parts
pipeline. In a telling request, they even asked Marrero to vacate Oak
Tree and relocate to an office at the U.S. embassy compound in New
Delhi.
Still attempting damage control, the CIA in early 1966 offered a quiet
continuation of supplies for its paramilitary projects. As Washington
had officially cut all arms shipments to India and Pakistan following
the 1965 Kashmir fighting, this was a significant, albeit secret,
exception. Four flights were scheduled, all to be conducted by a
CIA-operated 727 jet transport staging between Okinawa and Charbatia.
The Indians listened to the offer and consented. But in a reprise of
conditions imposed on the DC- flights of 1962, the government insisted
that the flights into Oak Tree be made at low level to avoid radar --
and to avoid any resultant publicity from the resurgent anti-American
chorus in New Delhi political circles. [15]
***
The ARC operation at Charbatia was not the only CIA project
encountering difficulties. Throughout 1964, Intelligence Bureau
director Mullik had been pushing for infiltration of all the
Hale-trained agents to establish an underground movement within Tibet.
By year's end, the Special Center saw its limited inroads -- elements
of four teams operating inside their homeland -- as a glass half full.
Mullik, by contrast, saw it as a glass half empty. Whereas he had once
held excessive expectations of a Tibet-wide underground creating untold
headaches for China, he now saw the limitations of overland
infiltrations -- especially by Khampa agents moving into areas where
they did not have family or clan support. By the beginning of 1965,
Mullik lashed out, claiming that the Tibetans were being coddled by the
CIA.
Part of the problem was that Mullik himself was vulnerable and under
pressure. In May 1964, ailing Prime Minister Nehru had died in his
sleep, denying the fourteen-year spymaster of his powerful patron. That
October, colleagues (and competitors) saw the chance to ease Mullik out
of the top intelligence slot. They succeeded, but only to a degree.
Although he gave up his hat as bureau director, he retained unofficial
control over joint paramilitary operations with the CIA. That position
-- which was officially titled director general of security in February
1965 -- answered directly to the prime minister and oversaw the ARC
base at Charbatia, the Special Center, Establishment 22, and the sensor
mission of Nanda Devi. [16]
With Mullik growing impatient, the Special Center readied its agents
for a second season inside Tibet. Arriving in late 1964 as the new CIA
representative at the center was John Gilhooley, the same Far East
Division officer who had briefly worked at the Tibet Task Force's
Washington office in 1960. The Indian and Tibetan officials at the
center warmed to their new American counterpart. "He was a free spirit,
very good-natured," said Rabi. [17]
Cordial personal ties aside, little could spare Gilhooley from the dark
news filtering in from Tibet. As soon as the snows cleared in early
1965, members of Team D had departed Tuting and headed back across the
border to rendezvous with Nolan, the teammate they had left behind for
the winter. Only then did they discover that he had already died of
exposure. The remaining three agents returned to India and did not
attempt another infiltration. [18]
Much the same was encountered by Team Z. Departing Turing to fetch
Chris, they learned that he had been rounded up during a winter PLA
sweep. Radio intercepts monitored at Charbatia later revealed that
Chris had refused to answer questions during an interrogation and been
executed.
Team Z's bad luck did not stop there. Entering a village later that
summer, the men were sheltered in a hut by seemingly sympathetic
locals. While they rested, however, the residents alerted nearby
Chinese militiamen. As the PLA started firing at the hut, the team
broke through the rear planks and fled into the forest. One of the
agents, Tex, died from a bullet wound before reaching the Indian
border. [19]
Better longevity was experienced by the members of Team V, all five of
whom had successfully braved the winter near Menling. By the spring of
1965, four elected to return to India, but Stuart, who had relatives in
the area, stayed and was given permission to lead his own group of
agents, appropriately titled Team VI. Two new members -- Maurice and
Terrence -- were dispatched from Tuting for a linkup.
By that time, Stuart was living in his sister's house north of the
Brahmaputra. During his regular crossings of the river, he used boats
in order to avoid Chinese troops guarding the bridges. The new agents,
however, chose the bridge option, ran into a PLA checkpoint, and
panicked. Drawing their Brownings, they got into a brief firefight
before being arrested. The PLA quickly isolated Maurice and forced him
to send a radio message back to India claiming that he had arrived
safely. This was a ploy used to good effect by the Chinese, Soviets,
and North Vietnamese; by capturing radiomen and forcing them to
continue sending messages, communist intelligence agencies duped the
CIA and allied services into sending more agents and supplies, with
both deadly and embarrassing results. In the case of North Vietnam,
some turned agents continued radio play for as long as a decade. [20]
The Chinese were not as fortunate with Maurice. On his first message
back, the Tibetan included a simple but effective duress code; he used
his real name. This was repeated in two subsequent transmissions, after
which his handlers ceased contact for fear the Chinese would
triangulate the signals coming from Charbatia and expose the base to
the press. A warning was then flashed to Stuart, who was able to get
back to India.
Team Y, the last of the 1964 teams still inside Tibet, had a similar
experience. After successfully living alongside sympathizers near
Tingri through the winter, the five agents lobbied the Special Center
in early 1965 for permission to rotate back to India. Agreeing to
replace them in phases, the center authorized two of the veterans --
Robert and Dennie -- to make their way out to Walung.
At that point, the Special Center was in for a rude surprise. Due to
operational compartmentalization, it was unaware that Establishment 22
had started running its own fledgling cross-border program. Using
Tibetan guerrillas from Chakrata, a pilot team had been staged from
Walung with a mandate to contact sympathizers near Tingri.
It came at a bad time. To great fanfare, the Chinese were preparing to
inaugurate the Tibetan Autonomous Region that fall. After nine years of
ruling Tibet under the PCART, the name change signified that Beijing
deemed the Communist Party organs in the region fully operational. To
coincide, the Chinese began a more forceful program of suppression,
purging Tibetan collaborators, establishing communes, and increasing
military patrols. Not only was the Establishment 22 team caught in one
of these sweeps, but Robert and Dennie ran headlong into the dragnet as
well. [21]
Ditching their supplies, both agents veered deeper into the hills as
they evaded toward the Nangpa pass on the Nepalese border.
Unfortunately for the two, the Nangpa is notoriously treacherous
through late spring. Given its high elevation, it is not uncommon for
entire caravans to be wiped out from slow suffocation as piercing winds
blast fine powdery snow into the nose and mouth. Dennie ultimately
reached Nepal; Robert did not.
Back at Tingri, the rest of Team Y faced the same Chinese patrols. Two
replacement agents had already arrived by that time. In need of
supplies, team leader Reg left their cave retreat to procure food.
Captured upon entering a village, he was forced to lead the PLA back to
the team's redoubt. In the ensuing firefight, all were killed except
for the lone Amdo agent, Grant. A subsequent sweep rounded up the
dozens of sympathizers they had trained over the previous year.
Tibet, from China's perspective
The news was equally bleak for the new teams launched in 1965. At
Shimla, the two-man Team C endured a deadly comedy of errors during its
first infiltration attempt. Looking to cross a river swollen by the
spring thaw, agent Howard fell in and drowned. His partner, Irving,
spent the next three days looking for a better fording point, Cold and
hungry, he chanced upon an old woman and her son tending a flock. They
led him to an isolated sheep enclosure, then alerted the militia.
Irving was soon heading for Lhasa in shackles. [22]
Another trio of agents, Team X, was deployed to easternmost India and
targeted against the town of Dzayul, renowned as an entomologist's
dream because of its rare endemic butterflies. The CIA was eyeing
Dzayul because the surrounding forests supposedly hosted displaced
Burmese insurgents who could potentially be harnessed against the
Chinese. Team X, however, found nobody of interest and came back.
More bizarre was the tale of Team U. The five-man team staged from
Towang, the same border town that had factored into the Dalai Lama's
1959 escape and the 1962 war. Three members headed north from Towang
toward Cona, where one of the agents had family. Upon reaching their
target, they were immediately reported by the agent's own brother.
Arrested and bundled off to Lhasa, they were not mistreated but instead
were shown films of captured ROC agents, then photos of the captured
and killed members of Team Y. After less than a month of propaganda
sessions, all three were given some Chinese currency and escorted to
the border. After a final warning about "reactionary India," they were
allowed to cross unmolested. [23]
Sometimes the agents were their own worst enemy. The two members of
Team F, which staged from Walung to Tingri, constantly quarreled with
each other and with local sympathizers. After the more argumentative of
the pair was replaced by a fresh agent, the two rushed to cache
supplies for the coming winter.
A final pair of Tibetans, Team S, also reached Tingri during the second
half of 1965. These two agents, Thad and Troy, had better rapport with
the locals than did their peers in Team F. So good was their rapport,
in fact, that a local sympathizer offered them shelter in his house
until spring. It was with these two Tingri teams in place that the
Special Center awaited its third season during the 1966 thaw. [24]
***
Although the Special Center's agent program had little to boast about,
it looked positively dynamic compared with the paramilitary army
festering in Mustang. A big part of Mustang's problem was that it was
being managed from afar without any direct oversight. The Special
Center had assumed handling of the program, but none of its officers
had ever actually visited Mustang. The closest they got was when CIA
representative Ken Knaus twice visited Pokhara in 1964 to meet Mustang
officers, With no on-site presence, the agency and Intelligence Bureau
had to rely on infrequent reporting by the Tibetan guerillas
themselves. From what little was offered, it was readily apparent that
the by-product from Mustang was practically nil. [25]
For the taciturn Mullik, disenchantment with Mustang was starting to
run deep. By late 1964, he was alternating between extremes -- first
insisting that the guerrillas be given a major injection of airdropped
supplies, later throwing up his arms and demanding that they all be
brought down to India and merged with Establishment 22.
In January 1965, the pendulum swung back -- with a twist. Now Mullik
was proposing that Mustang be given two airdrops to equip its unarmed
volunteers. These weapons would be given on the condition that the
guerrillas shift inside Tibet to two operating locations. The first was
astride the route between Kathmandu and Lhasa. The second was along the
Chinese border road running west from Lhasa toward Xinjiang via the
contested Ladakh region.
The choice of these two locations was understandable. In late 1961, the
Chinese had offered to build for Nepal an all-weather road linking
Kathmandu and the Nepalese border pass at Kodari, one of the few areas
on the Tibet frontier not closed by winter snows. Work was continuing
at a breakneck pace, with completion of the route expected by 1966.
India, not surprisingly, was concerned about the road's military
applications; by putting a concentration of guerrillas astride the
approach from the Tibetan side, any PLA traffic could be halted.
Similarly, a guerrilla pocket along the Xinjiang road would complicate
Chinese efforts to reinforce Ladakh. [26]
As before, Mullik was reluctant to use the ARC to perform the supply
drops. Knowing that the CIA would be equally reluctant to use its own
assets -- that would defeat one of the main reasons for creating the
ARC in the first place -- he offered two sweeteners. First, he promised
that the U.S. aircraft could stage from Charbatia. Second, he would
allow one ARC member to accompany the flights. This revised proposal
went back to Washington and was put before the members of the 303
Committee (prior to June 1964, known as the Special Group); on 9 April,
the committee lent its approval to the airdrop and Mustang redeployment
scheme.
Mullik, it turned out, was a moving target. As soon as he was informed
of Washington's consent, he reneged on the offer to allow an ARC crew
member on the flights. The CIA fired back, insisting that the Indian
member was a prerequisite for the missions to go ahead. To this, Mullik
had a ready counteroffer: he would provide a cover story if the flight
encountered problems.
As Mullik ducked and weaved, Ambassador Bowles urged the CIA to accept
the proposal. Bowles was acutely aware that relations with New Delhi
were already growing prickly on other fronts, and they were not helped
when the unpredictable President Johnson unceremoniously canceled a
summit that month with the Indian prime minister. Just as he would
later support the stillborn C- 130 deal, the ambassador felt that a
compromise with Mullik was a way to keep at least intelligence
cooperation on a solid footing. The CIA agreed; the flights would
proceed on an all-American basis.
Now that the mission was moving forward, the agency had to decide on
planes and crews. Looking over the alternatives, the CIA had only
limited options. One logical source of airlift assets was Air Ventures,
the Kathmandu-based company. Back in 1963, the CIA had helped establish
the company; two of the airline's pilots were on loan from the agency,
and its lone Twin Helio airframe had been obtained with agency
approval. But once the airline began operations, the CIA station in
Nepal kept its distance; Air Ventures worked almost exclusively for the
U.S. Agency for International Development and the Peace Corps. [27]
Moreover, the Mustang guerrillas were being handled by New Delhi; in
the interest of compartmentalization, the CIA station in Kathmandu was
kept wholly segregated from the operation. [28]
Another logical source of air support was the CIA's considerable
airlift presence in Southeast Asia. Heading that effort was the
proprietary Air America, as well as select private companies such as
Bird & Son, with which the agency had special contracts. Both flew
airdrops under trying conditions as a matter of course. But because CIA
paramilitary operations in Laos and South Vietnam were escalating by
the month, aircraft were stretched thin; the CIA managers in those
theaters, as a result, tightly guarded their assets. There was also the
untidy matter of the press getting whiffs of the CIA's air operations
in Southeast Asia; should one of these planes be downed in Tibet, a
viable cover story would be that much harder to concoct.
By process of elimination, the assignment was sent all the way to
Japan. There the CIA operated planes under yet another of its air
proprietaries, Southern Air Transport (SAT). Unlike Air America, which
frequented jungle airstrips and braved antiaircraft fire over places
like Laos, SAT flew regular routes into major international airports.
Its cargo was sometimes classified, but its method of operation was
overt and conventional.
In handing the task to SAT, there was some reinventing of the wheel.
Four kickers were diverted from Laos and sent to Okinawa for a week of
USAF instruction in high-altitude missions, including time in a
pressure chamber, turns on a centrifuge, and classes on cold-weather
survival. The rest of the crew came from the SAT roster in Japan; none,
with the exception of the primary radio operator, had been on the
earlier Tibet flights.
Taking a page from the past, SAT decided that the drop aircraft would
come from its DC-6 fleet. This was the civilian version of the C-118
that had performed the Tibet missions in 1958; the only difference was
a smaller cargo door in the rear. Because the smaller door meant that
the supply bundles would also need to be smaller, mechanics fitted the
DC-6 with a Y-shaped roller system to double the number of pallets
loaded down the length of its cabin; after the first row of cargo was
kicked out the door, pallets from the second row would be kicked. It
was further decided to carry all the supplies aboard a single plane,
rather than fly two missions as originally proposed by Mullik.
In another refrain from the previous decade, SAT made a perfunctory
attempt at sterilizing its plane. External markings were painted over,
but the numbers quickly bled through the thin coat. Inside the plane,
most -- but not all -- references to SAT were removed. "The safety
belts in the cockpit still had the letters 'SAT' stitched into the
material," noted auxiliary radioman Henri Verbrugghen. [29]
Early on 15 May, the DC-6 departed Okinawa and made a refueling stop at
Takhli. The CIA logisticians had packed the cabin to capacity, leaving
little room for the kickers. Based on requirements generated by the
Special Center, most of the bundles were filled with ammunition and
pistols, plus a small number of M1 carbines and solar-powered radios.
There was also a pair of inflatable rubber boats, to be used for
crossing the wide Brahmaputra during summer. Because of the large
amount of supplies involved, it was decided to make the drop inside
Nepal and within a few kilometers of Tangya rather than at the more
distant Tibetan drop zones used during the previous supply missions.
Once at Oak Tree, the plane was taken into an ARC hangar for servicing
away from prying eyes. Wayne Sanford had arranged for the provision of
fuel and support for the crew. He had also requested the Indians to
temporarily suppress their radar coverage along the corridor into Nepal
during the final leg of the flight.
For two days, the weather proved uncooperative. Not until the night of
17 May was the full moon unfettered by cloud cover. Not wasting the
moment, the heavy DC-6 raced down the runway and lifted slowly into the
northern sky.
***
At Tangya, Baba Yeshi had gathered his officers earlier in the week for
a major speech. He was a master of delivery, his voice rising and
falling with emotion as he told his men that the CIA had decided to
"give them enough weapons for the next fifteen years." A massive
airdrop was to take place in a valley just east of their position, he
said, and each company would be responsible for lifting its share off
the drop zone. Although Baba Yeshi had been informed of the quid pro
quo conjured in New Delhi -- weapons in exchange for a shift to
positions astride the roads in Tibet -- this was not mentioned in his
speech.
Not surprisingly, pulses began to race as word of the impending drop
flashed through the guerrilla ranks. With soaring expectations, the
officers hurriedly left Tangya to assemble the necessary teams of yaks,
men, and mules. [30]
***
As the DC-6 headed north at low altitude, Captain Eddie Sims sent
regular signals back to Oak Tree. After each one, Charbatia sent a
return message confirming that he should continue the mission. Sims,
who was in charge of senior pilots among all the Far East
proprietaries, was held in particularly high regard by the crew on this
flight. This stemmed from his role in settling a salary dispute shortly
before departing Japan. As a cost-cutting measure, SAT had deemed that
none of the DC-6 crew members were eligible for the bonus money
regularly paid to Air America crews during paramilitary missions. After
several crewmen threatened to walk out, Sims successfully lobbied
management to have the extra pay reinstated.
Crossing central Nepal, Sims took the plane up to 4,848 meters (16,000
feet). The rear door was then opened, allowing frigid air to whip
through the cabin. Sucking from oxygen bottles, two of the kickers
positioned themselves near the exit; the other two moved to the back of
the first row of bundles.
Looking for one final contact with Oak Tree, Sims sent his coded
signal. The radioman listened for the customary response, but none
came. Again Sims sent the signal, but only static crackled over the
set. After several minutes of agonizing, Sims elected to proceed
without the last clearance.
Ahead, a blazing letter signal lit the drop zone in a small bowl-shaped
valley. Dropping into a steep bank, the DC-6 came atop the signal and
then pulled up sharply. In the rear, the four kickers worked furiously
to get the loads out the small door. Only a fraction had been disgorged
when they had to halt to allow Sims to make a sharp turn and realign.
It would take yet another pass before the entire cabin was emptied.
[31]
***
On the ground in Mustang, the guerrillas spent the next day collecting
bundles scattered across the drop zone, in the next valley, and in the
one after that. Several were never found, and rumor had it that the two
rubber boats were recovered by local residents and taken to the crown
prince at Lo Monthang. [32]
Even more harsh than the complaints over the wide disbursement was the
disgruntlement over the content of the bundles. Taking Baba Yeshi at
his word, those assembled at the drop zone had expected a lavish amount
of weapons, enough to fight for fifteen years. Dozens of yaks and mules
had been organized in what was envisioned to be a major logistical
effort. "Just one plane came," lamented officer Gen Gyurme, "and it
delivered mostly bullets and pistols." [33]
Disillusioned, the company commanders took their allotments back to
their respective camps and returned to their earlier inactivity. Radio
messages were placed to Baba Yeshi over the following months, calling
on him to make the shift inside Tibet, but all were answered with
delays and excuses. By the end of that calendar year, few cross-border
forays of any note had been staffed. As far as the U.S. and Indian
representatives at the Special Center were concerned, Mustang was
living on borrowed time. [35]"
Geir
the fraud-postings about Trungpa-fraud and his likes in Tibetan Tantric
Buddhism. Steam-roll 'em doggies !
http://www.american-buddha.com/cia.secret.war.revolution.htm
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- REVOLUTION
The year had started on a most inauspicious note. On 10 January 1966,
while in the Soviet city of Tashkent to negotiate an end to the
Indo-Pakistan dispute in Kashmir, Indian Prime Minister Lal Bahadur
Shastri suffered a fatal heart attack. As his body was flown home for
cremation, party stalwarts in New Delhi looked to pick a second leader
in as many years.
Their choice eventually fell on Nehru's daughter, Indira Gandhi. Then
in her mid-forties, she had made few political ripples of her own.
Looking somewhat awkward and shy in public, Mrs. Gandhi had been
elevated to power precisely because party seniors thought her pliable.
President Johnson, for one, quickly found out otherwise. In March,
Gandhi arrived in Washington on her first official foreign trip.
Exuding both tact and charm, she earned Johnson's strong support for a
major food aid package in exchange for market-oriented economic
reforms. [1]
With the Washington summit a success surpassing all expectations,
Indo-U.S. relations got back some of the luster lost during the
previous year's Kashmir crisis. Sensing an opportunity, the CIA on 22
April asked the 303 Committee to approve a major $18 million Tibetan
paramilitary package. Part of this was earmarked to maintain the
Mustang force for a three-year term. The package also included two
C-130 aircraft as ELINT platforms to augment the lone ARC C-46 flying
in this role, as well as funding for a 5,000-man increase in
Establishment 22. [2]
Most remarkable was the argument the CIA was using to justify its
proposal. Moving beyond the lip service paid by Mullik in earlier
years, the agency claimed that the Intelligence Bureau had drawn up
plans in 1965 calling for the liberation of Tibet. Reading into this,
the CIA suggested that India might be willing to commit Establishment
22 to a second front in the event circumstances in Vietnam sparked
all-out hostilities between the United States and China.
In making a linkage between Tibet and Vietnam, the CIA was being
politically astute. Rather than justifying the Tibetan operation solely
on its own merits, the agency was now trying to loosely fix it to the
coattails of Indochina policy -- a topic that resonated at the top of
the Johnson administration agenda.
All this smacked of geopolitical fantasy. If Mullik, just a few months
earlier, had balked at making airdrops to Mustang, it was a good bet
that New Delhi would not willingly invite Beijing's wrath by sponsoring
a Tibet front if the United States and China went to war over Vietnam.
Even Ambassador Bowles, an ardent proponent of intelligence
cooperation, quickly backpedaled on the Vietnam link. There was a
"strong possibility" that India would be willing to commit its
guerrilla forces against Tibet, he wrote in a secret cable on 28 April,
but only if Nepal, Bhutan, Sikkim, or maybe Burma were attacked by
China. [3]
There was another problem with the CIA's April proposal. With few
exceptions, the projects it sought to maintain had been proved
ineffectual. Confirming as much was Bruce Walker, the former Camp Hale
officer who had arrived that spring to replace John Gilhooley as the
new CIA representative at the Special Center. In many respects, Walker
was presiding over a funeral. Making a token appearance at Hauz Khas
once a week, he had few remaining agents to oversee. "The radio teams
were experiencing major resistance from the population inside Tibet,"
he recalls. "We were being pushed back to the border." [4]
A good case in point was Team S. Agents Thad and Troy had started out
well, identifying a sympathetic Tingri farmer and bivouacking at his
house since the onset of snow the previous winter. Thad had gotten
particularly close to his host's daughter; by early spring, her abdomen
was starting to show the swell of pregnancy. This sparked rumors among
suspicious neighbors, who reported the case to district officials.
Alerted to the possible presence of an outsider, a Tibetan bureaucrat
arrived that May to investigate. Quizzed about his daughter's
mysterious suitor, the farmer folded. He brought Thad out from hiding,
and they took the bureaucrat into their confidence and begged him to
keep the matter a secret. Feigning compliance, the official bade them
farewell -- only to return that same night with a PLA squad. Thad was
captured immediately; Troy, concealed in a haystack, surrendered after
being prodded with a bayonet.
Giving the PLA the slip, the farmer managed to flee into the hills.
Nearby was a cave inhabited by Team SI, which also consisted of two
agents who had spent the winter near Tingri. Linking up, the three
attempted to run south toward the Sikkimese border. Just short of the
frontier, the trio encountered a PLA patrol and was felled in a hail of
bullets.
That left just one pair of agents still inside their homeland. Team F,
consisting of Taylor and Jerome, had occupied yet another Tingri cave
since the previous year. Even though they kept contact with the locals
to a minimum, word of suspicious movement in the hills eventually came
to the attention of the Chinese. On 2 November 1966, the PLA moved in
for an arrest. The Tibetans held them at bay with their pistols until
they ran out of ammunition; both were subsequently captured and placed
in a Lhasa prison.
As Team F's radio fell silent, the Special Center was at an impasse.
After three seasons, the folly of attempting to infiltrate "black"
radio teams (that is, teams without proper documentation or preparation
to blend into the community) was evident. Earlier in the year, this
growing realization had prompted the center to briefly flirt with a new
kind of mission. Four agents were brought to the Indian capital from
Joelikote and given instruction in the latest eavesdropping devices,
with the intention of forming a special wiretap team. For practice,
they climbed telephone poles around the Delhi cantonment area by night.
[5]
In the end, the wiretap agents never saw service. In late November, the
Special Center put team infiltrations into Tibet on hold. Aside from a
handful of Hale-trained Tibetans used for translation tasks at Oak
Tree, as well as the radio teams already inside Nepal, Joelikote was
closed, and the remaining agents reverted back to refugee status. "I
was saddened and embarrassed," said Indian representative Rabi, "to
have been party to those young men getting killed."
***
The Special Center had also reached an impasse with its other main
concern, the paramilitary force at Mustang. Despite the May 1965 arms
drop, Baba Yeshi and his men had resisted all calls to relocate inside
Tibet. Though frustrated, the CIA had continued financing the
guerrillas for the remainder of that year. This funding flowed along a
simple but effective underground railroad. Every month, a satchel of
Indian rupees would be handed over by the agency representative at Hauz
Khas. From there, two Tibetans and two Indian escorts would take the
money to the Nepal frontier near Bhadwar. Meeting them were a pair of
well-paid cyclo drivers also on the agency's payroll. They hid the cash
under false seats and pedaled across the border, where they handed the
money over to members of the Mustang force. The money would then go to
Pokhara, where foodstuffs and textiles were purchased at the local
market and shipped to the guerrillas via mule caravans.
By the time of the 303 Committee's April 1966 meeting, the CIA was
still prepared to continue such funding for another three years. In
addition, the agency had not ruled out more arms drops in the future.
The catch: Baba Yeshi had one final chance to move his men inside
Tibet.
Perhaps sensing that his financiers had run out of patience, the
Mustang chieftain was jarred from complacency. Employing vintage
theatrics, he gathered his headquarters staff in late spring and
announced that he would personally lead a 400-man foray against the
PLA. "We begged him not to do anything rash," said training officer Gen
Gyurme. "Tears were flowing as he began his march out of Kaisang." [6]
Traveling north to Tangya, the chieftain and thirty of his loyalists
canvassed the nearby guerrilla camps for more participants. Another
thirty signed on, including one company commander. Though far short of
the promised 400, sixty armed Tibetans on horseback cut an impressive
sight as they steered their mounts toward the border. Once the posse
reached the frontier, however, the operation began to fall apart. A
fifteen-man reconnaissance party was sent forward to locate a suitable
ambush site, and the rest of the guerrillas argued for two days over
whether Baba Yeshi should actually lead the raid across the border.
After his men pleaded with him to reconsider, the chieftain finally
relented in a flourish. Armed with information from the reconnaissance
team, thirty-five Tibetans eventually remounted and galloped into
Tibet.
What ensued was a defining moment for the guerrilla force. Apparently
alerted to the upcoming foray through their informant network, Chinese
soldiers were waiting in ambush. Pinned in a valley, six Tibetans were
shot dead, including the company commander. In addition, eight horses
were killed and seven rifles lost. In its six years of existence, this
was the greatest number of casualties suffered by the project. [7]
As word of the failed foray filtered back to New Delhi, the Special
Center finally acknowledged the limitations of Mustang. On the pretext
of not provoking a PLA cross-border strike into Nepal, the guerrillas
were "enjoined from offensive action which might invite Chinese
retaliation." Any activity in their homeland, they were told, would be
limited to passive intelligence collection. The guerrilla leadership,
never really enthusiastic about conducting aggressive raids, offered no
resistance to their restricted mandate. [8]
***
By process of elimination, the only remaining Tibetan program with a
modicum of promise was Establishment 22. Not only did this project have
India's strong support, but it was the linchpin in the CIA's April
pitch to the 303 Committee about a second front against China. [9] Even
before the committee had time to respond, the agency was bringing in a
new team of advisers to boost its level of assistance to Chakrata.
Replacing Wayne Sanford in the U.S. embassy was Woodson "Woody"
Johnson, a Colorado native who had served in a variety of intelligence
and paramilitary assignments since joining the CIA in 1951. Working
up-country alongside Establishment 22 was Zeke Zilaitis, the former
Hale trainer with a taste for rockets, and Ken Seifarth, the airborne
specialist on his encore tour with Brigadier Uban's guerrillas. [10]
Tucker Gougelmann, the CIA's senior paramilitary adviser in India
Boosting its representation a step further, the CIA that summer
introduced forty-nine-year-old Tucker Gougelmann as the senior adviser
for all paramilitary projects in India. A Columbia graduate, Gougelmann
had gone from college to the Marine Corps back in 1940. A major by the
summer of 1943, he was serving as intelligence officer for the marine
airborne regiment before being seconded to a raider battalion during an
amphibious landing at Vangunu Island in the Pacific. That transfer
nearly sealed Gougelmann's fate. Just one day after landing, a sniper's
bullet struck his upper left leg from the rear, ripping through nerve
and bone. The wound was gangrenous by the time he was evacuated to a
field clinic. Arriving in San Diego during late August, he was in and
out of hospitals for the next three years. [11]
By June 1946, the doctors had done all they could for Gougelmann's
stricken limb. He retired from the marines that month with a permanent
limp and a new wife from a moneyed family in Oakland. Her father, owner
of a racetrack and a fruit-canning company, wanted his son-in-law to
inherit part of the business. Gougelmann, however, had his heart set on
overseas travel. Leaving his spouse behind, he joined the foreign
relief organization CARE (Cooperative for American Remittances to
Europe) as its Romanian representative. He would spend the next
seventeen months in that country, the last being detained by Romania's
newly empowered communist authorities. [12]
Released from jail after an international outcry, Gougelmann returned
home to find that his wife had had their marriage annulled in his
absence. Repeating the same formula, he married again -- this time a
New York girl -- before leaving her behind to work for an aid
organization in China. Again he was chased out by advancing communists,
and he came home to a second divorce.
Given his passion for foreign adventure, Gougelmann joined the CIA in
the fall of 1950. His first assignment was somewhat cloistered. Posted
to a safe house on the outskirts of Munich, he served as an
administrator for James Critchfield, then a case officer handling
ex-Nazi spymaster Gehlen. "Tucker came with two pairs of highly
polished paratrooper boots in a footlocker," recalled Critchfield, "and
little else." [13]
Though competent in the office, Gougelmann longed for the field. He
transferred to Korea in the midst of the conflict on that peninsula and
served as a maritime case officer and later as chief of operations at a
training base that turned out road-watching teams. "His leg did not
stop him," said fellow adviser Don Stephens. "He was still able to
climb the rugged mountains with his students." [14]
After returning from Korea with a refugee as his adopted daughter,
Gougelmann served a stint as instructor at Camp Peary. Not until the
summer of 1959 was he again overseas, this time posted as chief of
station in Afghanistan. The assignment hardly suited the gruff former
major. Arriving with his infamous footlocker and ready to do battle, he
was instead channeled toward the cocktail circuit to keep tabs on the
Soviets in a more classic espionage duel. "Tucker was devoid of any
social graces," said fellow Afghan officer Alan Wolfe, "and ill at ease
in such diplomatic settings." [15]
By the time his Kabul tour finished in the summer of 1962, Gougelmann
was yearning for a return to paramilitary action. The Vietnam conflict
was fast escalating at that time, and a choice slot had opened up in
the coastal city of Da Nang. To put pressure on the communist
government in Hanoi, the CIA was mandated to begin a maritime raiding
campaign using an exotic mix of Swift boats, Norwegian mercenary
skippers, and Vietnamese frogmen. For the next three years, Gougelmann
led this effort, often with more flair than success. [16]
Gougelmann remained in Vietnam for another year, and it was then that
he made his mark. While advising the South Vietnamese Special Branch --
a police-cum-intelligence organization focused on the communist
infrastructure -- he organized a string of provincial interrogation
centers. Despite his unpolished demeanor and proclivity for salty
language, Gougelmann displayed a sharp, calculating mind in this role.
"He could walk to an empty blackboard," said one fellow officer, "and
start diagramming the local communist party ... from memory." [17]
By the time Gougelmann got his India assignment in mid-1966, he had a
full plate. Part of his time was devoted to managing the mountaineering
expeditions aimed at placing a nuclear-powered sensor atop the Nanda
Devi summit. [18] Even more of Gougelmann's time was spent arranging
assistance for the guerrillas at Chakrata. The Indians were eager to
double the number of Tibetans at Establishment 22 and were even calling
for the recruitment of Gurkhas into the unit. Reflecting bureaucratic
creep, Director General of Security Mullik had come up with a new, more
formal name for the outfit -- the Special Frontier Force, or SFF -- and
had given Uban an office in New Delhi.
The SFF had matured considerably since its humble start. One hundred
twenty-two guerrillas made up each of its companies, with five or six
companies grouped into battalions commanded by Tibetan political
leaders.
Though expanding the size of the SFF would be easy in one sense -- with
thousands of idle refugees eager for meaningful employment -- there
were problems. Most of the training was being handled by Uban's
seasoned cadre; aside from perfunctory oversight provided by Seifarth
and Zilaitis, the CIA was relegated to funding and bringing in the
occasional instructor from Camp Peary for brief specialist courses. One
such instructor, Henry "Hank" Booth, was dispatched in 1967 to offer a
class in sniping. The six-week program went well, with the Tibetans
proving themselves able shots with the 1903 Springfield rifle. For
graduation, Uban held a small ceremony, during which Booth awarded his
students a copy of the 1944 U.S. Army field manual for snipers.
What came next was a telling indictment of the relationship between the
Tibetans and their Indian hosts. Late that same evening, a fellow CIA
officer took Booth to a hill overlooking the SFF cantonment. Below were
lights burning bright at five separate camps. The Tibetans were in the
process of translating the field manual into Tibetan, with each camp
doing a section of the manual. Multiple copies were being made --
including hand-drawn reproductions of the diagrams -- and exchanged by
runners. By sunrise, as Booth departed for New Delhi, each unit had a
complete copy of the book, and the Indians moved in to confiscate the
manual. [19]
Hank Booth with the top SFF marksmen at his sniper course, December
1967.
Standing at center is Jamba Kalden, the SFF's senior political leader.
Not helping the relationship between the Indians and the Tibetans was
the decision to add Gurkhas to their ranks. The Indians saw this as a
means of expanding the mandate and abilities of the force beyond things
Tibetan. The Tibetans, however, bristled at the ethnic dilution of
their unit. Brigadier Uban recognized the delicacy of juggling two
different cultures. "The Tibetans were more ferocious," he reflected,
"but the Gurkhas were more disciplined." [20]
Wayne Sanford, who had returned to India for another CIA tour in New
Delhi, was less generous in his assessment of the Gurkhas. "We would
kill off their leaders during training exercises," he said. "The
Tibetans were natural fighters and would move the next best guy into
the leader's slot and keep on operating; the Gurkhas were clueless
without leadership." [21]
To keep peace within the force, a cap was set at no more than 100
Gurkhas. In addition, the two ethnicities would not be mixed; the
Gurkhas would be segregated into their own "G Group" at Chakrata.
Though given the same paramilitary training as in the previous SFF
cycles, G Group was relegated primarily to base security and
administration. [22]
The Tibetan majority, meanwhile, was being rotated along the Ladakh and
NEFA border in company-size elements. Several ARC air bases were
established specifically to support these SFF operations. In the
northeast, the ARC staged from a primitive airstrip at Doomdoomah in
Assam. For northwestern operations and airborne training, it used a
larger air base built at Sarsawa, 132 kilometers south of Chakrata.
[23]
To feed the remote SFF outposts along the border, the CIA had enlisted
the Kellogg Company to help develop a special tsampa loaded with
vitamins and other nutrients. Not only did this appeal to Tibetan
tastes, but it allowed for healthy daily rations to be concentrated in
small packages that could be airdropped from ARC planes. [24]
Not all the SFF missions were within India's frontier. Back in 1964, an
Establishment 22 team had staged a brief but deadly foray from Nepal
toward Tingri. In 1966, the force inherited the wiretap mandate
originally conjured for the special team selected from Joelikote. There
was good reason to target China's phones. Nearly all the communications
between China and Tibet used over-ground lines supported by concrete or
improvised wooden poles. The CIA, moreover, had already started a
successful wiretap program in southern China using agent teams staging
from Laos.
Placing the taps posed serious challenges. The lines paralleled the
roads built across Tibet, most of which were a fair hike from the
border. Once a tap was placed at the top of a pole, a wire needed to
run to a concealed cassette recorder. Because the recording time on
each cassette was limited, an agent had to remain nearby to change
tapes and then bring them back to India for CIA analysis.
The SFF proved up to the task. In a project code-named GEM1NI, it began
infiltrating from NEFA with recording gear during mid-1966. To supply
the guerrillas while they filled the tapes, an ARC C-46 was dispatched
to an airfield near Siliguri. Taking off during predawn hours, the
plane would overfly the Sikkimese corridor and be at the team's
position by daybreak. Flying with the rear door open, the kickers
briefly took leave of their oxygen bottles and shawls to push the cargo
into the slipstream. On the way home, they would hang a bag of soft
drinks out the door in order to have chilled refreshments by the time
they returned to base. [25]
The results of GEMINI were mixed. Although the SFF guerrillas were able
to ex filtrate without loss of life, the project was put on hold near
year's end after a Calcutta newspaper reported the mysterious flights
over Sikkim. "We got miles of tapes," recalled New Delhi officer Angus
Thuermer, "but much of it was useless, like Chinese talking about their
families back home." Deputy chief of station Bill Grimsley was more
upbeat in his assessment: "One never knows where the intelligence will
lead in these matters." [26]
The 303 Committee apparently agreed. On 25 November, after repeated
failed attempts during the first three quarters of the year, the CIA
put a small portion of its $18 million Tibet package before the
committee for endorsement. It totaled just $650,000, most of it going
to pay for Mustang. This time, the policy makers offered their approval
for the paramilitary program to proceed.
***
The Chinese, however, were not taking notice. In mid-1966, Beijing had
reached a turning point. Its Great Leap campaign toward rapid
industrialization and full-scale communism, launched by Chairman Mao
with much fanfare late the previous decade, had been such a failure
that its third Five-Year Plan had to be delayed three years. The
country had also suffered a series of foreign policy setbacks,
including the annihilation of the Communist Party in Indonesia -- which
included some of China's closest political allies in Asia -- allowing
an abortive September 1965 coup. And with Mao both aging and ailing,
there were questions about who would succeed him.
Reacting against all this, Mao formally proclaimed a Great Proletarian
Cultural Revolution in August 1966. In what was part ideological purge,
part power struggle, part policy dispute, Mao steered the nation toward
a destructive campaign of sophomoric Marxism and paranoid suspicion,
ostensibly to "cleanse its rotten core." Leading the charge was
disaffected youth gathered into a mass organization dubbed the Red
Guard. These teenagers joined with the army and attacked allegedly
anti-Mao elements in the Communist Party, then hit the party machine as
a whole.
Three months before the Cultural Revolution was proclaimed, Red Guards
had already started arriving in Lhasa from Beijing. As the revolution's
goal was to wipe out divergent habits and cultures in order to make all
of Chinese society conform to a communist ideal, minorities were a
prime target. Tibetans, predictably, suffered tremendously. Thousands
were jailed by marauding Red Guard gangs. Monasteries were emptied,
monks publicly humiliated, scriptures burned, and priceless art
treasures destroyed.
Belatedly realizing that he had lost control, Mao in January 1967
attempted to soften his rhetoric and asked the military to intervene.
This had little effect in Tibet, where the empowered Red Guard took on
the army in street battles across Lhasa through the spring and summer.
***
As China descended into this orgy of violence, India watched with
understandable concern. With nobody in clear control of Beijing (Mao
was prone to prolonged absences from the capital, apparently for fear
of his life), the Chinese were more dangerous neighbors than ever.
Making matters worse, they had successfully tested a nuclear-tipped
medium-range ballistic missile in October 1966.
In years past, such conditions might have made India's covert Tibetan
assets appear all the more relevant as both a border force and a
potential tool to exploit China's turmoil. By the spring of 1967,
however, New Delhi had irreversibly soured toward most of its joint
paramilitary projects. After all, the black radio teams inside Tibet
had already been canceled, and the Mustang force hardly inspired
confidence.
The Indians were also nervous about media revelations concerning the
CIA. In March 1967, Ramparts, a liberal U.S. magazine critical of the
government, published an expose on covert CIA support for various
private organizations, including the Asia Foundation (originally known
as the Committee for a Free Asia). Because numerous U.S. educational
and voluntary groups were active in India, this sparked an anti-CIA
furor in the Indian parliament. [27]
Never openly embraced, the CIA now had few advocates on the
subcontinent. Mullik, who had chaperoned the Tibet projects since the
beginning of Indian involvement, had already given up his seat as
director general of security in mid-1966. His replacement, Balbir
Singh, had an independent and forceful personality but only limited
clout with the prime minister. For her part, Mrs. Gandhi showed little
appreciation for the agency or its assistance. "We became a tolerated
annoyance," summed up Woody Johnson. [28]
If any tears were being shed at the CIA, they were of the crocodile
variety. Back in June 1966, the director's slot had been filled by
Richard Helms. Coming to the office with extensive experience managing
clandestine intelligence collection, Helms was known to be highly
skeptical of covert action like that attempted in Tibet. However, he
was being counseled otherwise by Des FitzGerald, his deputy for
operations and longtime proponent of activism in Tibet. Unfortunately,
FitzGerald dropped dead while playing tennis in July 1967. "When Des
died," said Near East chief James Critchfield, "the 'oomph' for the
program quickly dissipated." [29]
Even before FitzGerald's death, the agency had taken measured steps to
disengage itself from Tibet. In the wake of the March Ramparts
revelations, President Johnson had approved a special committee headed
by Undersecretary of State Nicholas Katzenbach to study U.S.
relationships with private organizations. Katzenbach's findings,
released later that month, recommended against covert assistance to any
American educational or private voluntary organization. [30]
Following this finding, the CIA terminated funding for the third cycle
of eight Tibetans undergoing training at Cornell University. They were
repatriated to Dharamsala in July, and no further students were
accepted. Though the agency contemplated a continuation of the program
on a smaller scale at a foreign university, this never came to
fruition. [31]
Other changes came in rapid succession. In Washington, the Tibet desk,
which had been under the Far East Division's China Branch ever since
its establishment in 1956, was transferred to the Near East Division.
John Rickard, one of four brothers born to missionary parents in Burma
(three of whom went to work for the CIA) , headed the desk during this
period and changed his divisional affiliation to reflect the shift.
More than just semantics, the change underscored the fact that the
remaining Tibetan paramilitary assets, with rare exception, would
probably not be leaving Indian soil. Apart from a single representative
at the Special Center, the Far East Division had been completely
excised from the Tibet program. [32]
The CIA also reduced its links to the ARC. Although attrition was
starting to take a toll on the planes delivered during 1963 and 1964 --
the latest casualty, a Twin Helio, crashed in 1967 -- no replacements
were budgeted. More telling, after the CIA removed the C-130 from the
limited proposal passed by the 303 Committee the previous November, the
Indians opted in 1967 to add the Soviet An-12 transport as the new
centerpiece for its ARC fleet. [33]
For the Tibetans, the biggest blow took place in the spring of 1967.
Ever since arriving on Indian soil, the CIA had secretly channeled a
stipend to the Dalai Lama and his entourage. Totaling $180,000 per
fiscal year, the money was appreciated but not critical. Most of it was
collected in the Charitable Trust of His Holiness the Dalai Lama, which
in turn was used for investments, donations, and relief work. To their
credit, the Tibetans had worked hard to wean themselves off such
handouts. "Financially underpinning the Dalai Lama's refugee programs
was no longer warranted, " said Grimsley. [34]
Gyalo did not see it that way. Sullen, he made the assumption that all
money would soon be drying up. He was not wrong."
Geir
Signs of dissent against Baba Yeshi were not new. Trouble dated back to
1962, when the Mustang chieftain reduced food stipends issued directly
to individual guerrillas. He then turned a blind eye to -- even
condoned -- the rustling of yaks and goats on the Tibetan side of the
frontier as a ready, and free, source of protein. This rubbed many of
the Hale-trained cadre wrong, who claimed that their commander was
still charging the CIA for the meat and pocketing the difference. [1]
During 1967, with the guerrillas sulking and spent, their demand for an
audit of Baba Yeshi's finances grew more shrill. Leading the call were
six idealistic Hale graduates, including Rara, who had commanded the
1961 jeep ambush. All six later trekked to Darjeeling, where they made
their demands known to Gyalo's longtime assistant, Lhamo Tsering.
When word of the complaints got back to Mustang, Baba Yeshi was,
predictably, less than receptive. With little appreciation for
standardized accounting procedures, he had few recorded finances to
audit. Even if he did have books to open, his assumed prerogative as a
Khampa chieftain left him with a perceived sense of immunity toward
questioning by subordinates.
In years past, Baba Yeshi's aloof stance would have carried the day.
But following the end of the Dalai Lama's stipend and the curtailing of
offensive action from Mustang, Gyalo and Lhamo Tsering feared that an
open scandal in Nepal would provide a ready excuse for the CIA to
target funding. Scrambling for a face-saving solution that would ease
tensions at Mustang, they determined that Baba Yeshi should get a
competent, respected, and untainted assistant. The trouble was, there
were few Tibetans who fit that bill. Many of the proven warriors from
the NVDA generation were past their prime. And although there were
plenty of younger candidates, they had yet to amass the seniority and
respect to lead effectively.
One exception was Wangdu, the feisty Khampa trained on Saipan in 1957.
After fleeing Tibet for India in January 1959, he had turned his back
on the resistance. Bitter, he had refused an earlier offer to join
Establishment 22; instead, he had closed himself off at Darjeeling and
frittered away the years reading and studying English. "I would stop to
meet him whenever I went to Darjeeling," recalled Gyalo. "He still
talked with disgust about the small amount of U.S. assistance." [2]
Despite such negativity, Wangdu had all the right attributes to serve
as Baba Yeshi's understudy. Still physically fit at thirty-eight years
old, he evoked memories of his charismatic call to arms in Kham. In a
society where tribal lineage counts for much, he could draw on the
respect accorded to his uncle, the late Gompo Tashi. He was relatively
educated and, though somewhat of a womanizer, had officially remained a
monk and had no dependents.
In early 1968, Gyalo called Wangdu down from Darjeeling to his New
Delhi house. It took repeated appeals, but the Khampa finally relented.
After nearly a decade, he would be rejoining the cause.
***
Baba Yeshi took the arrival of his uninvited deputy relatively well.
"Gyalo sent a message emphasizing that Wangdu was there to help and
assist," said Kay-Kay, the senior Tibetan representative at the Special
Center, "not to replace." [3] Although no warm welcome was offered,
neither was there any animosity.
A division of responsibility between the two came easily. With Baba
Yeshi spending much of his time at Kaisang -- usually absorbed in
prayer -- Wangdu headed for Tangya. Low-level intelligence was still
being collected by the network of radio agents posted to frontier
outposts at Dolpo, Limi, Nashang, and Tsum, so Wangdu had the rest of
the guerrillas focus on training for the remainder of the year. Some
improvements were soon evident. Besides arranging for the delivery of
extra uniforms and shoes, Wangdu increased monthly food allowances from
30 to 150 Indian rupees; rustling was no longer permitted. [4]
At the beginning of 1969, Lhamo Tsering decided to inspect the
guerrillas himself. His findings were heartening. After working
together for a year, Baba Yeshi and Wangdu were apparently getting
along and in good spirits. Though Wangdu expressed some reservations in
private, the threat of a schism within the ranks appeared slim.
Very quickly, the atmosphere soured. The precipitating factor: To
commemorate the tenth anniversary of the insurrection in Lhasa, a
series of events was being planned for Dharamsala in March. Baba Yeshi
was invited to attend the Dharamsala memorial services after a stop in
New Delhi. Wangdu would be taking his annual home leave at the same
time, with Lhamo Tsering left in temporary command. [5]
Mustang officers (left to right) Gen Dawa, Gen Gyurme, Rara, unknown,
1968.
(Courtesy Lhamo Tsering)
Baba Yeshi smelled a putsch in the making but could hardly turn down
the invitation from the highest quarters of the Tibetan government in
exile. When he arrived in the Indian capital, his fears were confirmed.
He was greeted with the news that he would be receiving a permanent
transfer to Dharamsala. Wangdu, his deputy, would be in charge of the
Nepal project. This was hardly a slap in the face: Baba Yeshi was
fifty-one years old and had spent eight years in the often inhospitable
climes of Mustang; the relative luxuries in Dharamsala could be
considered a reward for good service. As a further sweetener, he would
be assuming the prestigious post of deputy to the security minister in
the Dalai Lama's own cabinet.
Baba Yeshi wanted none of it. Resistant to the transfer after almost a
month of negotiations in New Delhi, he retired to the quarters of Tashi
Choedak, the former Hale interpreter now serving as the deputy Tibetan
representative at the Special Center. "I came home to find his rosary
and tea cup," said Tashi, "but Baba Yeshi was gone." [6]
A week later, the irate chieftain was spotted in Darjeeling. A few
weeks after that, Lhamo Tsering woke to find him at Kaisang. The
situation quickly teetered on the edge of confrontation. Baba Yeshi,
supported by loyalists among the headquarters staff, demanded his right
to properly turn over command to Wangdu before returning to India. As a
compromise, Lhamo Tsering gave him two weeks to sort out his affairs.
Lhamo Tsering (center) at Mustang, 1968. (Courtesy Lhamo Tsering)
After the allotted time, the chieftain departed Kaisang with two dozen
bodyguards. But instead of going to his promised seat in Dharamsala, he
got as far as Pokhara and stopped. In letters smuggled back to Mustang,
he implored his men to rally to his side. A civil war was about to
begin.
***
At the same time trouble was brewing in Mustang, Indo-U.S. intelligence
cooperation experienced major changes in structure and personalities.
In June 1968, David Blee departed as the New Delhi station chief after
more than six years in the post. Replacing him the following month was
John Waller, the former deputy station chief in India between 1955 and
1957. A consummate blend of scholar and spy, Waller had spent the
intervening years pursuing his passion for Tibetan history. In 1967, he
had published an authoritative book on Sino-Indian relations, much of
it devoted to Tibetan issues. That same year, he had written an article
for Foreign Service Journal about U.S. diplomacy and the thirteenth
Dalai Lama. He had also completed a draft of a book about exploration
in Tibet. [7]
Once in New Delhi, Waller had little time to pursue his glorified
research hobby. Within two months after his arrival, he was confronted
with a new counterpart organization. Intentionally patterned after the
CIA, the Research and Analysis Wing (RAW) was officially unveiled on 2
September. Both the foreign intelligence desk of the Intelligence
Bureau (now downgraded to domestic activities) and the paramilitary
projects of the director general of security would fall under RAW's
control. [8]
Selected as the first RAW director was R. N. Kao. Previously head of
the ARC, the debonair Kao had a long history of close cooperation with
U.S. officials. Despite this warm past, Kao was faced with Indo-U.S.
relations that were again on a downward spiral. In November, Richard
Nixon won the U.S. presidential election. Like his predecessor Johnson,
Nixon was fixated on bringing the unpopular war in Vietnam to an end.
Not only was South Asia far from Nixon's mind, but many Indians
recalled his pronounced slant toward Pakistan when he was Eisenhower's
vice president.
The location of the sixteen guerrilla companies in Mustang, circa 1968
Mrs. Gandhi was showing a tilt of her own. Backed into a political
corner by 1969, she shrewdly began courting the populist left at home
and the Soviet Union abroad. This, combined with the perceived
hostility from Nixon, led to outward relations between New Delhi and
Washington sinking to their lowest depth in over a decade.
Mustang guerrillas practice with a recoilless rifle, circa 1968.
(Courtesy Lhamo Tsering)
Behind the scenes, intelligence cooperation toward Tibet remained only
a shadow of its former self. Arriving in June 1968 as the new CIA
representative at the Special Center was John Bellingham. Much like
Bruce Walker had presided over a funeral, Bellingham was there for the
same extended wake. He arrived at the center each Friday afternoon, but
there was little for him to do aside from delivering the monthly
payments for Mustang.
On two occasions during Bellingham's watch, the Special Center looked
to break from its freefall. The first concerned a program to infiltrate
singleton resident agents into Tibet. This had been proposed back in
1967 as the long-range replacement for the canceled radio teams. There
was a significant difference between the two: the teams had gone in
black; the resident singletons, by contrast, would merge directly into
society.
The two programs required different kinds of people. The teams had been
composed of men versed in paramilitary skills and expected to live in
concealment under rugged conditions. Singletons required the
intelligence and wit to operate as classic spies. Doing so was
complicated by the Cultural Revolution; deep paranoia and suspicion had
taken root across Tibetan society.
Although finding a suitable singleton candidate would be difficult, one
possibility had been identified back in 1967. That year, an uninvited
visitor in his early thirties had arrived at Mustang. Amdo Tsering
claimed to be a Muslim from the Amdo city of Sining. He had fled his
hometown and supposedly escaped to Nepal via an extended trek through
Xinjiang and western Tibet.
Incredulous, Baba Yeshi's men sized up the interloper. Because he
looked Chinese and spoke some Xinjiang dialects, they began to suspect
that he was a plant dangled by Beijing. Gearing up for a rather
unpleasant interrogation, they suddenly found themselves on the
receiving end of a verbal flogging from the spirited Amdowa. Uncertain
what to do, Mustang flashed a message down to the Special Center.
Equally uncertain, the center sent back orders for Amdo Tsering to be
escorted to New Delhi. There he languished for over a year; not until
the spring of 1969 was it decided to use him as the first in the
proposed resident singleton program.
Code-named "Red Stone," Amdo Tsering was given extensive training in
secret writing techniques. The CIA also forged a set of Chinese travel
documents showing that he worked in westernmost Tibet but was going to
Xinjiang on holiday. Once in Xinjiang, he was to head for Lop Nur and
attempt to collect dirt samples. Lop Nur was the location of China's
primary nuclear testing facility, and the dirt would be analyzed to
determine levels of radioactivity.
Mustang guerrillas in training, circa 1968.
In September 1969, Red Stone took a train to Siliguri. Escorting him
was Tashi Choedak and the senior Indian representative at the Special
Center. Heading north through Sikkim, they came to the Tibetan frontier
and watched Red Stone gallop across the border. The two Special Center
representatives returned to New Delhi to await news of his progress.
They did not have to wait long. After just a couple of days, they
received word that a nervous Red Stone had attracted attention and been
arrested before boarding a bus at Shigatse, the town midway between
Tingri and Lhasa. The singleton program subsequently went into
remission.
The second project initiated by the Special Center was the activation
of special refugee debriefing teams. For years, the radio agents posted
along the Nepalese frontier had been collecting low-level intelligence
from pilgrims and traders. Building on this theme, in late 1968 the
center dispatched a five-man team to Kathmandu to debrief cross-border
travelers. The Nepalese capital was a fertile recruiting ground for
several reasons. First, Nepal was the only nation still allowed to
maintain a trade mission and consulate general in Lhasa. Second, there
was a substantial community of ethnic Tibetans who had opted for
Nepalese citizenship after 1959, and China had decreed that these
Nepalese passport holders were allowed to visit their families or
conduct business in Tibet once a year. [9]
In locating sources, the Kathmandu debriefing team had competition from
an unlikely source: the Republic of China on Taiwan. Until that time,
Taipei had never had much success recruiting a network of Tibetan
supporters, mainly because the Kuomintang firmly agreed with the PRC
about China's right to rule Lhasa. Efforts to sign up agents from
Kalimpong late the previous decade had fallen flat. So, too, had a
brief attempt to fund intelligence-gathering forays by Nepal-based
Tibetans beginning in 1962. [10]
In 1968, Taipei tried again. This time, it was looking to exploit the
chaos of the Cultural Revolution. There were also indications in
February that the ROC leadership might be prepared to endorse Lhasa's
independence, a shift that would have made its support more palatable
to Tibetan patriots. [11]
Late that year, Taipei dispatched a pair of Hiu Muslim recruiters to
Kathmandu in its latest bid to seek Tibetan sources. The recruiters,
both former residents of Kalimpong, dangled financial incentives and
the chance for scholarships on Taiwan. The Special Center's team,
meanwhile, sought volunteers through nationalistic appeals. "We only
had a little money to cover operational expenses," said team leader
Arnold, a former Hale translator and Cornell graduate, "so we looked
for good Buddhists who respected the Dalai Lama." [12]
By 1969, Arnold and his men were claiming some success. Despite
numerous attempts, they were never able to recruit a Tibetan staff
member working at the Nepalese consulate in Lhasa. They were, however,
able to network among dozens of Nepalese passport holders returning
from their annual leave in Tibet. The team debriefed the travelers in
Kathmandu and dispatched frequent reports to the Special Center via the
mail or messengers. [13]
***
Although the information from the Kathmandu team was welcome, John
Bellingham's main focus was on managing the denouement of Mustang.
Earlier in 1969, the Indians had made it apparent that their
contingency plans no longer involved any participation by Tibetan
guerrillas in Nepal. The CIA was of a similar mind-set. When it came
time for the 303 Committee to review Tibet operations on 30 September,
it endorsed a provision to scale back Mustang to a token force.
The Tibetans learned of this pivotal decision indirectly. In early
October, Bellingham arrived at the Special Center with the monthly
funds for Nepal. As was customary, Kay-Kay and Tashi Choedak came to
witness the transfer. Turning to the Indians as he left, the CIA
representative offered a comment in passing: "I guess this is one of
the last."
Kay-Kay froze. "It was my darkest moment," he later said. No matter how
poorly it had fared in the field, the Tibetan leadership had looked on
Mustang as the symbolic paramilitary arm of its government in exile.
[14]
A Royal Nepal Airlines flight took Kay-Kay and two junior officers from
the Special Center to Pokhara, where they mounted horses and went to
bring the news directly to the guerrilla leadership. They arrived at
Kaisang in driving rains and found Wangdu in his office. After
explaining the decision, Kay-Kay paused for comments, but Wangdu
offered only a silent gaze.
Reduced funding was only part of Mustang's troubles. After spending the
summer and fall stewing at Pokhara, Baba Yeshi had enticed a company of
loyalists to move east to Nashang. Tempers were starting to flare
between the two factions, leading to the death of two Baba Yeshi
followers and five horses. Vowing to expel dissidents, Wangdu placed
Baba Yeshi's sympathetic assistant, a hulking Andowa and Hale graduate
named Abe, in detention. Abe, in turn, got possession of a razor and
committed suicide by slicing open the vein in his neck. Incensed, Baba
Yeshi retreated to a house in Kathmandu and began plotting his revenge.
***
In 1970, Lhamo Tsering returned to New Delhi after his prolonged
deployment to Nepal. Waiting for him at the Special Center was John
Bellingham, who was anxious to finalize a formal demobilization plan
for Mustang. Until that point, the CIA was still funding 2,100
guerrillas at a cost of $500,000 a year. Pressed for time, Lhamo
Tsering outlined a schedule whereby the force would be cut by a third
over each of the next three calendar years. Without delay, Bellingham
approved the scheme. [15]
Part of the demobilization plan involved a rehabilitation program for
the guerrillas, to ensure that they would be able to support
themselves. Members of the Special Center were immediately deployed to
Kathmandu and Pokhara to oversee this program. Their purpose was to
ensure that rehabilitation funds would be wisely invested in
self-generating enterprises. Although the demobilized guerrillas had
few marketable skills, existing Kathmandu-based projects funded by the
Dalai Lama and foreign aid groups demonstrated that Tibetan handicraft
and carpet factories were profitable ventures.
Drawing on this precedent, the first third of the rehabilitation funds
was channeled into two carpet factories in Pokhara. Part of the money
was also used to break ground for a thirty-room budget hotel in the
same town. With a third of the guerrillas dutifully filing out of the
mountains to take up employment at these sites, demobilization appeared
to be progressing according to plan.
***
At Tangya, not everybody was embracing the conversion to civilian life.
Wangdu, for one, was game for alternative forms of funding that would
allow him to maintain some of his men under arms. In early 1971, he
received word that interest was being expressed by an unexpected source
-- the Soviet Union.
This was not the first time Moscow had flirted with the Tibetan
resistance. In 1966, Soviet intelligence officers had approached Gyalo
in New Delhi with a proposal to assume support for Tibetan paramilitary
operations. During the course of eight meetings over the next three
years, the Soviets spoke fancifully of establishing a joint operation
in Tashkent; from there, they promised, Tibetan agents could be
parachuted back to their homeland.
Intrigued but noncommittal, Gyalo requested that Moscow, as a sign of
good faith, first raise the Tibet issue at the United Nations. Do not
make preconditions, the Soviets sniffed, and ultimately ceased contact.
[16]
In 1970, Moscow showed renewed interest in Tibet. This followed the
Soviets' brief border war with the PRC in 1969, prompting them to
re-explore paramilitary options against China in the event of renewed
hostilities. Rather than approaching Gyalo -- who in any event had
moved to Hong Kong and washed his hands of resistance operations --
this time they looked toward Nepal.
Leading the effort was Colonel Anatoli Logonov, the defense attache at
the Soviet embassy in Kathmandu. Named a Hero of the Soviet Union in
1944 while an armor commander, Logonov had already been expelled from
Canada for espionage activities and reprimanded by the Nepalese
government for bribing a military officer. Undaunted, the brash Logonov
approached the U.S. defense attache, William Stites, at a diplomatic
function. Sauntering up to the American colonel,, he left little doubt
about his focus of interest. "What do you have on Tibet?" he asked.
Stites was not amused by the bold pitch; nor was he pleased to hear
that the colonel had invited his assistant to dinner and asked the same
question. [17]
Though he came up short with the American officers, Logonov had better
luck with the Tibetans themselves. Cornering a Khampa shopkeeper in
Kathmandu, he conveyed word that he sought contact with the Mustang
leadership. As news of this reached the Tibetans at the Special Center,
Tashi Choedak quietly rushed to Nepal, linked up with Wangdu, and
rendezvoused with the Soviet colonel in the Nepalese capital. Matching
his direct personality, Logonov's house was functional and
unsophisticated. "It had no carpets," said Tashi, "but plenty of Johnny
Walker and a refrigerator stocked with boiled cabbage." [18]
Coming to the point, the Soviet colonel asked for information on the
size of the Mustang force. Over the course of three subsequent
meetings, the Tibetans brought photograph albums (created for
accounting purposes during the phased demobilization) that contained a
portrait of each guerrilla still under arms. Logonov took copies of the
albums and promised to quiz Moscow about assuming financing for the
force.
One month later, Logonov returned with an answer. Although funding for
Mustang was not feasible at that time, he offered payment for specific
items of information, such as the location of PLA border posts and the
deployment of aircraft at Tibetan airfields. Accepting this limited
offer, the Tibetans prepared a sampling of intelligence for the Soviet
officer. In return, Logonov paid the equivalent of $1,800. Convinced
that this sum was hardly worth the effort, Wangdu unilaterally
terminated further contact.
***
Ironically, the CIA did not necessarily see Soviet inroads into the
subcontinent as a bad thing. "By keeping the Soviets onboard in India,"
said CIA New Delhi chief David Blee, "they were a counterweight to the
Chinese." [19]
Such realpolitik led to previously unthinkable levels of cooperation
regarding support to the ARC. With an aging C-46 fleet ("We squeezed as
much life from them as possible," said one ARC officer") and no C-130
ELINT platforms forthcoming, the ARC inventory by 1967 was dominated by
the Soviet-made Mi-4" chopper and An-12 transport. Whereas this
transformation might have had the CIA howling in earlier years, the
agency was now perfectly willing to assist the Indians with their new
Soviet hardware. In 1968, for example, agency technicians installed
oxygen consoles in the unpressurized An-12 cabins for use during SFF
parachute training. Because this aircraft had an extremely fast
cruising speed -- more than double that of the C-46 -- a CIA airborne
adviser was dispatched to India that spring to train an ARC cadre in
high-speed exit techniques. Two years later, CIA technicians were back
in India to modify an ARC An-12 with ELINT gear. [21]
CIA support for the SFF, meanwhile, was declining fast. One of the last
CIA-sanctioned operations took place in 1969, when four SFF commandos
were trained in the use of sophisticated "impulse probe" wiretaps.
Buried underneath a telephone line, the tap transmitted conversations
to a solar- powered relay station established on a border mountaintop
in NEFA, which in turn relayed data to a rear base farther south.
Although several taps were installed successfully, two SFF members
disappeared on a 1970 foray, and further infiltrations were halted. By
the following year, the PLA detected the extent of the tampering and
started rerouting its lines away from the border. [22]
By early 1971, direct CIA contact with the SFF was almost nonexistent.
[23] This came as tension between India and Pakistan was once again on
the rise. The reason was the humanitarian disaster unfolding inside
East Pakistan, where a heavy-handed campaign to suppress secessionists
(who wanted independence from the western half of the bifurcated
nation) had led to a deluge of refugees into India.
The situation had New Delhi's full attention not only because of the
humanitarian ramifications but also because it presented a chance to
cripple its archrival. During previous wars with Pakistan, fighting had
focused on the western front. Now the Pakistani government not only had
to keep that flank protected but also had to rush reinforcements to the
eastern side of the subcontinent. Logistically challenged, the
Pakistanis were getting whipsawed in the process.
Compounding Pakistan's woes, the Indian government was quietly
supporting scores of resistance fighters from East Pakistan. Playing a
major role in this was Major General Uban (he had finally gotten his
promised second star), who was now considered one of India's most
seasoned unconventional warfare specialists on account of the nine
years he had spent with the SFF. Taking temporary leave of his
Tibetans, the general was placed in charge of a guerrilla training
program for 10,000 East Pakistani -- soon to be called Bangladeshi --
insurgents. [24]
Uban made room at Chakrata for a training site for the Bangladeshis. By
that time, the SFF had grown to sixty-four Tibetan companies; most were
divided into eight battalions of six companies apiece, with the
remainder going into support units. Despite this increase, the force
had not seen any serious combat since its inception. Worse, Uban
learned that seven companies were being misused for traffic control in
Ladakh.
Protesting this abuse of his elite unit, Uban lobbied to incorporate
his men into contingencies against East Pakistan. By fall, the Indians
were already well on their way to completing plans for a major combined
arms campaign -- one of the largest since World War II -- to liberate
that territory. Though Uban made a strong case for the SFF's inclusion
-- his men could act as guerrillas with plausible deniability, he
argued -- such a decision would be controversial. Until that point,
there had been an unwritten rule that the SFF would not be used for
anything other than its intended purpose against China. There were also
Tibetan attitudes to consider. Tibet, noted several members of the
force, had no quarrel with Pakistan. Rather, Tibet had benefited from
assistance offered by the East Pakistani authorities, recalled ranking
political leader Jamba Kalden.
As word flashed to Dharamsala, senior Tibetan officials were in a
quandary. If they did not agree with Uban's proposal, they feared that
the Indians would see them as ungrateful; with CIA support largely
dissipated, they could ill afford to alienate their primary benefactor.
Although some in the Dalai Lama's inner circle felt that they should
demand a quid pro quo -- participation against East Pakistan in
exchange for Indian recognition of their exiled government -- the idea
was not pushed. Quietly, Dharamsala offered its approval.
By late October, an ARC An-12 airlift began shuttling nearly 3,000
Tibetans to the Indian border adjacent to East Pakistan's Chittagong
Hill tracts. To reinforce their deniable status, the guerrillas were
hurriedly given a shipment of Bulgarian-made AK-47 assault rifles.
At the border, they assembled at Demagiri. Normally a quiet frontier
back-water, Demagiri by that time was overflowing with refugees. As the
Tibetans turned it into a proper military encampment, they made plans
to divide into three columns and initiate operations. Their exact
mission had been the subject of prior debate. India's military staff
had wanted them to perform surgical strikes, such as destroying the key
Kaptai Dam. Uban, in contrast, saw them doing something "more worthy,"
such as joining forces with his Chakrata-trained Bangladeshi insurgents
and seizing Chittagong port. This was vetoed by the top brass because
neither the SFF nor the Bangladeshis had integral heavy weapons
support. After further discussion, it was decided that the SFF would be
charged with staging guerrilla raids across the Chittagong Hill tracts,
known for their thick jungles, humid weather, and leech-infested
marshes. This promised to be a difficult mission for the
mountain-faring Tibetans. [25]
SFF members during the Bangladesh campaign, 1971
The hills held another, more deadly, challenge. Based along the tracts
was a Pakistani composite brigade, including part of a battalion of
elite commandos, the Special Service Group. Not only did this brigade
threaten the flank of one of the Indian corps massing to move against
Dacca, but it could conceivably open an escape route to nearby Burma.
At the beginning of the second week of November, the SFF began
Operation EAGLE. Taking leave of Demagiri, the guerrillas used nineteen
canoes to shuttle across the Karnaphuli River and steal into East
Pakistan. Coming upon an outpost that night, the Tibetans overran the
position while the Pakistanis were eating. Boosted by their swift
victory, they made plans to hit the next post the following morning.
Listening over the radio, General Uban was anxious. As he moved into
Demagiri to coordinate both the SFF and his Bangladeshi force, he had
few qualms about the Bangladeshis -- they were native boys and could
live off the land -- but he knew that the Tibetans were untested under
battle conditions and careless in open march.
Very quickly, his fears were confirmed. On 14 November, the lead
element of Tibetans came running back toward the Indian border. Dhondup
Gyatotsang, Uban learned, had been shot dead. The cousin of Mustang
commander Wangdu and a Hale graduate, Dhondup had been one of the most
senior political leaders in the force. Realizing that he could lose
momentum, Uban got on the radio and barked at the Tibetans to resume
their advance. "I told them not to come back until the position was
taken, " he said. [26]
The strong words had an effect. Reversing course, the SFF split into
small teams and curled behind the Pakistanis in classic guerrilla
fashion. Using both their Bulgarian assault rifles and native knives,
they smashed through the outpost. "After that," remembers Uban, "they
were unstoppable." [27]
By the time all-out war was officially declared early the following
month, the SFF had been inside East Pakistan for three weeks. Multiple
Indian corps blitzed from all directions on 3 December, forcing
Pakistani capitulation within two weeks; Bangladesh's independence
would soon follow. [28]
At the time of the ceasefire, the Tibetans were within forty kilometers
of Chittagong port and had successfully pinned down the Pakistani
brigade in the border hills. Taking leave of their normal anonymity,
the SFF paraded through Chittagong to ecstatic Bangladeshi masses. A
total of twenty- three Indian officers and forty-five Tibetans would be
awarded for their gallantry; 580 Tibetans received cash bonuses. Their
victory had had a cost, however. Forty-nine Tibetans had paid with
their lives for the birth of a nation not their own."
Geir
Fallout from the Bangladeshi operation was swift. The CIA lodged a
protest against the RAW over the use of the Tibetans in Operation
EAGLE. Director Kao hardly lost any sleep over the matter; with U.S.
financial and advisory support to the SFF all but evaporated, the
agency's leverage was nil. Bolstering his indifference was the
diplomatic furor over deployment of the U.S. aircraft carrier
Enterprise to the Bay of Bengal during the brief war. Although
Washington claimed that the vessel was there for the potential
evacuation of U.S. citizens from Dacca, New Delhi suspected that it had
been sent as a show of support for the Pakistanis. Bilateral ties,
never good during the Nixon presidency, ebbed even lower.
More serious were the protests against Operation EAGLE from within the
Tibetan refugee community. In this instance, it was Dharamsala that was
under fire, not the RAW. Facing mounting criticism for having approved
the deployment, the Dalai Lama made a secret journey to Chakrata on 3
June 1972. After three days of blessings, most ill feelings had wafted
away.
As this was taking place, John Bellingham was approaching the end of
his tour at the Special Center. He had just delivered the second
installment of rehabilitation funds, which arrived in Nepal without
complication. With this money, two Pokhara carpet factories had been
established, and construction of a hotel in the same town was
progressing according to plan. Another carpet factory was operating in
Kathmandu, as was a taxi and trucking company.
By the summer of 1973, with one-third of the funds still to be
distributed, the CIA opted not to deploy a new representative to the
Special Center. Because Bellingham had moved next door as the CIA's
chief of station in Kathmandu, and because he was already intimately
familiar with the demobilization program, it was decided to send him
the Indian rupees in a diplomatic pouch for direct handover to
designated Tibetans in Nepal. Although this violated the agency's
previous taboo against involving the Kathmandu station, an exception
was deemed suitable in this case, given the humanitarian nature of the
project.
The money was well spent. That November, ex-guerrillas formally opened
their Pokhara hotel, the Annapurna Guest House. Bellingham and his wife
were among its first patrons. [1]
***
The Dalai Lama and Major General Uban, the inspector general of the
SFF, review the
SFF at Chakrata, June 1972
Although all the promised funds had been distributed, the CIA was not
celebrating. Wangdu had dipped into extra money saved over previous
years, defied orders to completely close the project, and retained six
companies -- 600 men -- spread across Mustang. Worst of all, not a
single weapon had been handed back.
All this was happening as a new set of geopolitical realities was
conspiring against the Tibetans. President Nixon, besides having frosty
relations with India, was dedicated to normalizing ties with the PRC.
In February 1972, he traveled to Beijing and discussed this possibility
with Chinese leaders, who were slowly distancing themselves from the
self-inflicted wounds of their Cultural Revolution. Although the
phaseout of Mustang was not directly linked to this visit -- as many
Tibetans have incorrectly speculated -- it is equally true that
Washington had little patience for a continued Mustang sideshow, given
the massive stakes involved with Sino-U.S. rapprochement.
The royal Nepalese government, too, was getting a dose of realpolitik.
In January 1972, King Mahendra suddenly died and was succeeded by his
son, Birendra Bir Bikram Shah Dev. Looking around the subcontinent,
Birendra had reason for concern. Pakistan had been dismembered only a
month earlier, and the Indians had signed a cooperation treaty with the
Soviet Union the previous August.
The Dalai Lama addresses the SFF, June 1972. To his right is Major
General Uban.
Although Nepal's security rested in astutely maintaining the nonaligned
foreign policy championed by his father, the new monarch believed that
it was in his kingdom's interest to offset a stronger India by
fostering goodwill with Beijing. In November 1972, he dispatched his
prime minister to the Chinese capital; in December 1973, Birendra
himself made the trip.
Following these diplomatic developments, Wangdu's residual force at
Mustang counted no allies of note by the beginning of 1974. Even the
local Nepalese population had turned against them. Almost since the
time the guerrillas began operations, the residents of Lo Monthang had
been leery of their armed Khampa neighbors. This was compounded by
petty jealousy. The swaggering guerrilla bachelors, with their
relatively generous food stipends, were seen as prize catches for
Mustang girls. Though the men of Lo Monthang were fast to charge the
Khampas with rape, their womenfolk proved more than willing to marry
the guerrillas. [2]
Between apocryphal tales of rape and an eagerness to demonstrate good
intentions toward Beijing, the royal Nepalese government was eager to
move forcefully against the long-standing affront to its sovereignty in
Mustang. Playing a supporting role in this was deposed chieftain Baba
Yeshi. Ever since retreating to Kathmandu in early 1970, he had been in
intermittent contact with a small band of loyalists in Nashang. He had
also been in touch with the Nepalese authorities and offered them
assistance in confronting his rival, Wangdu. Though eager to do so, the
Nepalese military, as yet untested in combat, was biding its time until
conditions were right.
In the spring of 1974, there arose just such conditions. As he had done
in previous years, Lhamo Tsering traveled overland to Pokhara to
inspect ongoing rehabilitation projects in that town. Although his
trips had not been controversial in the past -- he had kept the
Nepalese Home Ministry fully apprised of the guerrilla demobilization
-- this time, Kathmandu saw him as a useful pawn. On 19 April, he was
arrested at the Annapurna Guest House and taken to the town's police
station.
The Annapurna Guest House, Pokhara, built with CIA rehabilitation
funds. (Courtesy
Kenneth Conboy)
With Lhamo Tsering in detention, the Royal Nepalese Army dispatched a
lieutenant colonel to Jomsom to initiate a dialogue with Wangdu. At the
time, the Nepalese maintained only a single infantry company at Jomsom;
not only was it outnumbered and outgunned by the guerrillas, but the
Tibetans held the strategic high ground at Kaisang. But with Lhamo
Tsering behind bars, Wangdu was in a conciliatory mood. Venturing down
from Kaisang with a coterie of bodyguards, he offered to turn in 100
weapons in exchange for Lhamo Tsering's release. The Nepalese, suddenly
emboldened, rejected the offer. With bad feelings all around, Wangdu
retreated to his headquarters.
Realizing that they needed more muscle, the Nepalese began mobilizing
military reinforcements from around the kingdom. During June, an
infantry brigade massed at Pokhara, then began walking north in driving
rains to join the company already at Jomsom. Making the same hike was
an artillery group consisting of a howitzer, a field gun, and a mortar.
Although the Nepalese were slowly starting to develop critical mass,
all their troops were green. The ranking officer at Jomsom, Brigadier
Singha, had absolutely no combat experience. "None of us did," added
company commander Gyanu Babu Adhikari. [3]
Despite this, the government troops had sufficient confidence to
deliver an ultimatum to Wangdu. His guerrillas had until 26 July (later
extended by five days) to hand in their weapons; after that, the army
vowed to forcibly disarm them. To add emphasis, a team of Baba Yeshi
loyalists, working alongside the Nepalese, sent surrender leaflets to
Kaisang. "You cannot push the sky with your finger," read one. [4]
Almost until the eleventh hour, the saber rattling had little effect.
But upon hearing of the impending confrontation, the Tibetan
authorities in Dharamsala intervened. The Dalai Lama recorded a
personal plea, and a senior Tibetan minister rushed the tape to Mustang
and played it in front of the guerrilla audience.
Hearing their leader implore them to disarm, the warriors broke down.
Four of the six companies came out of the mountains and did as
instructed. At Kaisang, one Khampa officer shot himself in the head
rather than turn over his rifle. Two other guerrillas leaped to their
deaths in the swift waters of the Kali Gandaki. [5]
Still at large was Wangdu, backed by a pair of companies commanded by
deputies Rara and Gen Gyurme. The surrender deadline had expired, and
the Nepalese were contemplating their next move. Still looking to
employ carrot over stick, they couriered appeals to Kaisang during
early August, promising a festive celebration at Jomsom if Wangdu bowed
out gracefully. When that failed, they began moving against the
guerrilla headquarters.
Undaunted, the Tibetans at Kaisang unpacked a recoilless rifle. They
had never used this weapon inside Tibet during all the preceding years,
but they now sent a round impacting into a nearby hillside.
Intimidated, the Nepalese scurried back to Jomsom. "The Khampas had
better weapons than we did," said Major Gyanu, "and better terrain."
[6]
Wangdu, meanwhile, had beckoned Rara and Gen Gyurme for what was to be
their final meeting. He would make a dash west toward India with forty
followers, he told them. His two deputies were to delay the Nepalese
for eight days to allow him sufficient time to escape. [7]
By that time, the Nepalese were gearing up for a second foray against
Kaisang. Advancing at night, they surrounded the headquarters at 0300
hours. When they made a final push after sunup, however, they found
only a handful of Tibetans present; Wangdu was not among them.
Determined to get serious, the army made plans for a major sweep north
across Mustang. The Nepalese had initially intended it as a helicopter
operation -- the first in their history. Since early that year, a
British squadron leader had been posted to Kathmandu to teach them such
airmobile tactics. But with only four available helicopters and three
inexperienced aircrews (one of the choppers was flown by a French
civilian pilot), they opted instead for a long slog from Jomsom on
foot. [8]
Marching along the east bank of the Kali Gandaki, a single Nepalese
battalion eventually reached Tangya by the end of August. In an
anticlimax, the remaining guerrillas surrendered without a fight.
Searching the camp, the government troops found few weapons; the rest
had been cached, they presumed. At the same time, the smaller pro-Baba
Yeshi faction at Nashang turned in its arms. There were no firefights
at that location either. Apart from two Nepalese who succumbed to
altitude sickness, nobody died during the operation.
Wangdu, however, was still at large. Correctly assuming that the last
two company commanders were coconspirators in his escape, the Nepalese
invited Rara and Gen Gyurme to Pokhara to review the status of the
rehabilitation projects. After three nights at the Annapurna Guest
House, they were taken away in chains to join Lhamo Tsering.
Though they had yet to capture the Mustang leader, the Nepalese
authorities had a pretty good idea where he was heading. During the
march north from Jomsom, the government battalion had spotted a band of
horsemen riding west. Assuming that Wangdu might be destined for India,
Kathmandu alerted its 4th Brigade posted along the northwestern border
of the kingdom. Because there were only a limited number of passes
along the frontier with India, the troops were especially vigilant at
those locales.
Their calculations proved correct. During the second week of September,
a line of horsemen was seen approaching the 5,394-meter Tinkar Pass
separating Nepal and India. Only meters from the Indian border, a
Nepalese sergeant took the column under fire. Two were killed and one
severely wounded; the rest escaped across the frontier. Uncertain as to
the identity of the corpses, the Nepalese flew in Baba Yeshi. He
positively identified Wangdu, and the traitorous chieftain had the
bodies buried on the spot.
Back in Kathmandu, the conclusion of the Mustang operation was
celebrated with pomp. On 16 October, King Birendra handed out
sixty-nine awards, including a promotion for the sergeant who had shot
Wangdu. [9] Coinciding with this, a tent display was unveiled near the
capital's center. In it were Buddhist scriptures and idols captured at
Kaisang. Other tables held rifles, rocket launchers, ammunition, and
"ultra modern miniature communication equipment powered by solar
batteries." [10]
Lured by the spectacle, Tibetan agents Arnold and Rocky, both still in
the Nepalese capital to oversee the rehabilitation projects, filed past
the display. As a macabre centerpiece, the authorities had arranged
Wangdu's pistol, binoculars, watch, and silver amulet given to him by
the Dalai Lama. Attitudes in Kathmandu, the two discovered, had turned
decidedly hostile. To accompany the tent display, government-owned
newspapers were trumpeting claims that the Mustang Khampas had
conducted a twenty-six-day spree of raping and looting. "Tibetans were
forced to temporarily close their shops," recalls Arnold. "It was very
tense for two months." [11]
***
At Pokhara, the last Mustang guerrillas were directed to temporary
resettlement centers while the Nepalese authorities debated their
future. Half ultimately left for India; of these, nearly 100 joined the
SFF. For the remainder, favoritism was shown toward Baba Yeshi's
followers formerly at Nashang; a camp was built for them near
Kathmandu, with funds from the United Nations. Those loyal to Wangdu,
by contrast, were given barren plots near Pokhara and, due to
government intransigence, had no access to United Nations funding.
[12]
That was still far better than the prison cells holding Lhamo Tsering,
Rara, and Gen Gyurme. Four other unrepentant guerrillas soon joined
them, including the wounded member from Wangdu's escape party and a
Hale-trained radioman named Sandy. They were taken to Kathmandu for
trial, where the authorities were deaf to pleas for leniency. All
received life sentences.
***
At the Special Center in New Delhi, the Tibetan and Indian
representatives had been monitoring Mustang's death throes as best they
could. Until the final days of July, the radio teams at Kaisang, Tsum,
Dolpo, and Limi had been sending back regular updates. Once those fell
silent, gloom set in among the operatives at Hauz Khas.
With a whimper, their secret war in Tibet had come to an end."
Geir
"THE CIA'S SECRET WAR IN TIBET -- EPILOGUE
For many of the CIA officers involved in the Tibet operation, cold war
battles in Southeast Asia loomed. Roger McCarthy, the long-serving head
of the Tibet Task Force, went on to serve in South Vietnam and then in
Laos just as its royalist government fell to communism in 1975. Smitten
by Tibet, he visited Lhasa for the first time in 1996. Said McCarthy,
"I could see the sandbank where Tom and Lou jumped all those years
ago."
Tom Fosmire, the Hale instructor beloved by his Tibetan students, spent
many years with the CIA's paramilitary campaign in Laos, which in terms
of budget and duration was the largest in the agency's history. He was
later in South Vietnam until its fall to communism.
Another Hale trainer, Tony Poe, served brilliantly in the highlands of
Laos for nearly a decade. Eventually succumbing to the pressure and
isolation, he took to alcohol and was sidelined to training centers in
Thailand by embarrassed superiors.
Among the CIA advisers who served in India, Harry Mustakos and T. J.
Thompson both had tours in Laos. Thompson would later become a
world-renowned parachute designer. In 1981, he returned to Charbatia on
a CIA-sanctioned trip to inspect the state of the ARC rigging facility
he had helped establish two decades earlier. "Not only was the facility
in great shape," he said, "but there were still some of the Tibetan
riggers I trained in 1963."
Ken Seifarth, who spent two tours at Chakrata, served several years at
a Thai base training guerrillas headed for the war in Laos.
Jim Rhyne, the Air America pilot who qualified ARC aircrews in the
Helio and Twin Helio, flew for the CIA in Laos until an 85mm
antiaircraft round struck his plane in January 1972 and took off his
leg. Unfazed, he was flying in Laos six months later with a prosthetic
limb. In 1980, still working for the agency, Rhyne flew into the
Iranian desert to take soil samples at the makeshift runway later used
during the ill-fated hostage rescue mission. In April 2001, he died
when his biplane crashed near his home in North Carolina.
Tucker Gougelmann, the senior paramilitary adviser in India, went
directly to Vietnam for a final CIA tour as a key official with
Phoenix, the campaign aimed at neutralizing the communist
infrastructure. Retiring in Southeast Asia, he ventured to Saigon
during its final months to explore business opportunities, then to
evacuate his common-law Vietnamese wife and their children as communist
tanks closed in during April 1975. Unable to escape, he was arrested;
once his captors uncovered his earlier Phoenix involvement, he was
killed in detention that June. His remains, bearing the hallmarks of
torture, were returned to the United States in September 1977. David
Blee, the former station chief in New Delhi, made the arrangements for
Gougelmann's interment at Arlington National Cemetery.
Among the Indian veterans of the Tibet project, RAW director R. N. Kao
rode Indira Gandhi's skirt to great influence. In the wake of the
successful Bangladesh operation, as well as the assistance RAW lent
Mrs. Gandhi during her 1969 political struggles against party
stalwarts, Kao was elevated to the additional post of cabinet secretary
(security). When Gandhi briefly fell from power in 1977, her
intelligence supremo was shunted aside, only to return as national
security adviser when she regained power three years later. Although
the Tibet operation was downgraded during his watch and with his
concurrence, Kao would later disingenuously lay blame solely on the
United States. "The Tibetans were looking for somebody to hold their
finger," he later commented, "and the Americans dropped them like a hot
potato."'
Laloo Grewal, the first ARC manager at Charbatia, went on to become
vice chief of staff of the Indian air force.
Major General S.S. Uban retired as inspector general of the SFF in
January 1973. [2] A deeply religious man, Uban delved into various
beliefs. More than anything, he became a devotee of Baba Onkarnath, a
popular Bengali mystic whose prophecies, say followers, are invariably
accurate. During one sitting with Onkarnath, Uban claims that his guru
predicted the Bangladesh war a year in advance. On another occasion,
Uban was present when the seer was asked whether Tibet would become
free. Yes, said Onkarnath confidently, Tibet would gain its
independence. His audience, eager for details, pressed the Bengali for
details as to when liberation would take place. To this, the prophet
offered no insights.
Among the Tibetan members of the CIA's covert projects, those assigned
to the Special Center in Hauz Khas continued working alongside their
Indian counterparts after the departure of John Bellingham. In 1975,
they attempted to deploy a singleton agent without U.S. participation.
Code- named "Yak," he was a native of Yatung near the Sikkimese border.
On three occasions over the next year, he was dispatched back to his
hometown to collect intelligence from family members. Suspected of
embellishing his tales, Yak was dropped from the Special Center's
payroll. Apart from this brief flirtation with running a bona fide
agent, the center spent most of its time tasking and debriefing Tibetan
refugees going on pilgrimages or visiting family members. This
continued until late 1992, at which time the Hauz Khas villa was closed
after almost three decades and Tibet operations began running out of
RAW headquarters.
Tibetan paratroopers during the first SFF freefall course, 1976
Within the SFF, Jamba Kalden retired as its senior political leader in
1977. Much had happened to his force since the Bangladesh operation.
Looking to patch over its earlier protests regarding Operation EAGLE,
the CIA deployed two airborne advisers to Chakrata in the spring of
1975 to instruct the Tibetans in jumping at high altitudes. Drop zones
in Ladakh, some as high as 4,848 meters above sea level, were used for
these exercises. Two years later, one of the same advisers, Alex
MacPherson, returned to India to test a special high-altitude chute
specially designed for SFF missions. [3]
Though exposed to such expanded training, the SFF was seeing less
action in the field. In 1974, the unit had been guarding the border
near Nepal to stem an influx of Chinese-trained insurgents. Following
Kathmandu's suppression of Mustang, however, it was feared that the SFF
might stage reprisal forays against the Nepalese. To prevent this,
India pulled its Tibetan commandos away from the border.
The following year, a second ruling prohibited the SFF from being
posted within ten kilometers of the Tibet frontier. This came after a
series of unauthorized incursions and cross-border shootings, including
a four-hour fire fight in Ladakh during 1971 that resulted in two SFF
fatalities.
By the late 1970s, the future of the SFF was no longer certain. With
Indo-Chinese tensions easing somewhat, there was criticism that
maintenance of a Tibetan commando force was an unnecessary expense.
However, the SFF was soon given a new mission: counterterrorism.
Because the Tibetans were foreigners, and therefore did not have a
direct stake in Indian communal politics, they were seen as an ideal,
objective counterterrorist force. In 1977, RAW director Kao (who wore
an additional hat as director general of security) deployed 500 SFF
commandos to Sarsawa for possible action against rioters during
national elections. After the elections, which went off without major
incident, only sixty Tibetans were retained at Sarsawa for
counterterrorist duties.
Three years later, when Indira Gandhi (and Kao) returned to power, the
SFF's war against terrorism received a major boost. Over 500 trainees
were sent to Sarsawa for counterterrorist instruction. Upon graduation,
they formed the SFF's new Special Group. Significantly, no Tibetans
were incorporated into this new group within the force.
The Special Group would soon see action across India. In June 1984, one
of its companies was used during an abortive attack against Sikh
extremists holed up in the Golden Temple in the Punjab. The temple was
subsequently retaken in a bloody army operation, leading Indira
Gandhi's Sikh bodyguards to assassinate the prime minister later that
year. [4]
The Tibetan mainstream of the SFF, meanwhile, continued to see action
closer to the border. Companies from its eight battalions under the
control of the director general of security rotated along the entire
frontier. In 1978, three additional Tibetan battalions were raised at
Chakrata; under the operational control of the Indian army, these three
battalions were posted to Ladakh, Sikkim, and Doomdoomah air base in
Assam. Seventeen members of the Ladakh battallion were killed while
fighting Pakistani troops on the Siachen Glacier in 1986; as after the
Bangladesh operation, there were protests against Dharamsala for taking
losses outside of the battle to liberate the Tibetan homeland.
Among the veterans of the Mustang force in Nepal, there were few
winners. Baba Yeshi, the original chief, rarely strays from his house
in Kathmandu. Though he sought audiences with the Dalai Lama in 1991
and 1994 -- and allegedly received forgiveness for his actions against
Wangdu -- the former commander is still seen as a duplicitous traitor
by the refugee community at large.
Toward the other members of Mustang, the royal Nepalese government
maintained a tense relationship for a decade. Continuing with its smear
campaign, Kathmandu in early 1976 released reports that it had
uncovered an eighteen-hole golf course and badminton courts at one of
the Khampa bases. The following year, the Nepalese accused the former
Tibetan warriors of continued looting and hashish smuggling. [5]
Suffering the most from Kathmandu's wrath were the seven prisoners
given life sentences. Not until late December 1981, with a birthday and
the tenth anniversary of his coronation looming, did the king of Nepal
release six from jail; the last, Lhamo Tsering, was set free five
months later. All were declared persona non grata and sent to India.
This put Rara, the leader of the October 1961 jeep ambush, at a loss.
Having lived in Nepal for the past two decades, he preferred that
kingdom over India. After stealing back across the border, he was
rearrested by Nepalese authorities for violating the conditions of his
release; he later died in prison.
Equally harsh treatment was meted out to the Tibetan agents captured by
Chinese authorities. In prison for almost two decades -- much of it in
solitary confinement -- they were offered unexpected freedom in
November 1978 as part of Beijing's slight softening in policy toward
Tibet. The years had taken a toll. From Team S, agent Thad was still
alive; his teammate Troy had been executed for bad behavior. From Team
F, Taylor was released, but his partner, Jerome, had died in detention
from a prolonged illness. Team V1's Terrence had his freedom, but
teammate Maurice had been executed for provoking fights in jail.
Irving, the agent from Team C turned in by the old lady and her son,
survived his incarceration. So did Choni Yeshi, the sole survivor of
the team parachuted into Amdo, and Bhusang, the only living member of
the team dropped at Markham in 1961.
Two others remained in detention. Amdo Tsering, the restive Muslim
singleton who was supposed to collect dirt at Lop Nur, stayed behind
bars because of an unrepentant attitude. Grant, the lone survivor of
Team Y, was sickly and opted to stay in prison voluntarily. Not until
1996 did both finally leave their cells.
Overseas, Geshe Wangyal, the Mongolian who had served as translator for
the Tibet project, died in 1983 while still teaching at his New Jersey
monastery.
Gyalo Thondup, the key link with the CIA, had stayed away from the
resistance since 1969. Not until late 1978, with the Chinese government
apparently loosening its constraints on Tibet, did he rejoin the cause
and lead a negotiating team to Beijing; results from this trip
ultimately proved scant. Gyalo currently shuttles between residences in
New Delhi and Hong Kong.
The Dalai Lama has gone from strength to strength, winning the 1989
Nobel Prize for Peace and earning an enormous international audience
that includes Hollywood celebrities, rock musicians, New Agers, and
scores of other Westerners looking for answers in the East. His Tibet,
however, has yet to be set free."
Geir
the chapter following what I've just been sending here. We thus get
into the nitty-gritty of fraud in TB.
This is by Charles Carreon. I wonder how he finds the light with his
kind of mildly enthusiastic faith, but his critique of frauds is right
on the mark, later in his site.
Here's an idea of his thinking (not mine in any way) :
"THE TIBETAN WALL OF SILENCE
by Charles Carreon
Here I am, visiting the Tibetan Wall of Silence. It's very quiet here,
probably because of the restless patrols of warrior monks with big
sticks who threaten anyone who hangs around. They absolutely take no
lip, knowing of course that book learning is not their forte, and they
prefer not to engage on the enemy's ground.
On the other side of the Tibetan Wall of Silence, there is a great deal
of chatter. Ceaseless chatter, disputation, uncertainty, neurosis
admitted, splayed out for revelation. Among themselves, Buddhists are
fulsome in their admissions of spiritual defect. Rotten Buddhists,
losers who can't practice, ass kissers without real motivation. Just
tell them a lama said those things about them, and they'll agree it's
all true. And it is. Nobody can win at the game, and everyone pretends
to have the painful problem of life sewed up, like old Ram Dass,
half-gorked by his spiritual exertions, probably unable to admit that
he's madder than hell under the assumed serenity. Yep, they'll admit
that in an encounter-type situation, or while doing a little drinking
with other Buddhists, but they will never admit it to the opposition.
The opposition gets the stony silence when start talking back to the
preachers, criticising the doctrine. Then everyone's perfect. They know
why they're meditating, how to meditate, and that it's working. They
know the path, they are on it, and they are making progress.
Of course, practicioners have to tell themselves these things, because
otherwise the tautological engine would not run. Further, I believe we
must all stoke our own fires with self-encouragement and healthy pride.
But self-derision is a counter-force that can cause a painful mental
split in the mind of the devotee. Tara often reminds me of how much she
feels injured by having indoctrinated herself with frightful images and
metaphors, and having to overcome the threat of those self-erected
icons.
Of course, the silent Buddhists say, one must encourage oneself in the
right path, the doctrinally approved path, and that means being mindful
of pitfalls to spiritual growth. Sounds great, but guess what? Your
little baby mind inside your heart doesn't hear all your high flown
reasoning. That little baby mind just wants to know that it is safe,
that it is good, that it is not guilty, not threatened, and is loved.
Question why we would feed our mind a diet of cosmic-sized fears about
multiple innumerable afterlives to be spent in roaring furnaces or as
wild beasts or as long-lived gods in heavens unseen.
What did the person who was the Buddha think about these cosmic
conundrums, about the fear of the afterlife? If you ask the Tibetans,
of course, he knew very well that the universe was exactly as the
Tibetans now conceive it -- an amalgam of old Vedic notions,
interpreted using Chinese and Nepalese artisanship, and infused with
the strange macabre spirit of Mongolian herdsmen and their wrathful
gods of the howling wastelands of stone and ice. Because, of course, on
another plane, he had divinely appeared to do a Special Turning of the
Wheel of the Dharma in the Highest Heaven, attended by all the gods and
goddesses, gurus, vidyadharas, bodhisattvas and arhats from the ten
directions and three times. And the lamas of today are emanations of
that very Buddha. You better believe it.
Strange, of course, that not a word of these extracurricular activities
of the Buddha were ever mentioned by him. He sat around telling stories
about how, if you argued with him about irrelevant details, you were
like a guy stuck by a poison arrow who refused to allow the physician
to extract it until he learned whether the arrow had been shot by an
archer of his own caste. That guy, obviously, is going to die, said the
Buddha. So will you, if you waste your time with stupid questions.
That's a good rhetorical trick, and has since shut up generations of
philosophers, but I never heard that they got enlightened.
Of course, that's another thing the Buddhists talk a lot about among
themselves, but never with outsiders. Who is enlightened? Among
themselves, there's lots of mutual back-scratching until the
competition for students gets hot. Then they let their hair down. They
admit that the titles are all inflated, and no one on the market right
now can teach you much of anything deep, because they don't know it.
But over here, on the other side of the wall, they claim there's lots
of enlightened people, some in Tibet. And of course, the really great
teachers "aren't interested in teaching Westerners." (Said Alan
Wallace)
If you take that deeper, and you ask, "What does it mean to be
enlightened?" you encounter even more division. People in the press and
publishing ask what "Buddhists" believe. Well hell, they believe more
crazy shit than Christians, Moslems, and Scientologists all put
together, and of course they're not much more in agreement. Buddhists
have blasted each other as heretics since the early days, and taken it
quite as seriously as Rome took the Christian problem during that
backward pre-Christian Italian era. The Gelukpa takeover of the Kagyu
monasteries using Mongolian thugs, and their subsequent ascendance to
theocratic dominance, is a good example.
The Nyingmas, of course, remember very well that the Gelukpas have been
praying to Shugden for their demise for centuries, and that their
Dzogchen doctrine was a prosecutable heresy in their homeland, and the
only reason the Geluks don't string them up right now for defiling the
Dharma is because this isn't Tibet, and the Geluks need to make nice.
Tibetan Buddhists disagree bitterly on what constitutes the path to
Enlightenment, and on what Enlightenment is. But again these
disputations are never heard beyond the Wall of Silence. Instead they
stick to the positive, and allow the Dalai Lama's bland formulations of
goodness to pass for the doctrine itself. In truth, of course, most
Tibetan Buddhists who are at all well-initiated are looking for much
stronger stuff than the Dalai Lama's one-size-fits-all feel-goodism.
And what does the average fool Buddhist do with this plethora of
clashing opinions? Do they try to sort it out? Do they compare
doctrines, ask their teachers why they disagree with other Buddhists,
and demand some explanation of the purported unity behind the obvious
multiplicity? No, they don't. They blame themselves for lacking faith,
and they numb themselves with service and activity, and/or try to
silence that dreadful "monkey mind" that gives them no rest. And all
they really want is a banana."
Geir
"RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF PEMA ZANGMO
January 13, 2004, No. 2
We were told by Sogyal that when a Master meets a Dakini, he has to
rape her to gain her secrets, because she will never just give them
away. (I've also heard that elsewhere). It was meant to be funny. What
an aggressive male way to interpret a mystery of such unfathomable
beauty.
(I'm sitting here staring at the emoticons, especially the very worried
looking one who can't stop blushing, wondering how to go on with this
topic of Dakini). I'm not an accomplished yogini, nor anyone special,
yet I have had about a handful of powerful nyams which I know in this
day and age are very unusual. Bar one, they took place during sleep.
I'm only mentioning this to make the point that they took place during
times I was also capable of doing exceedingly stupid things. One of
them, the first seems to have been a genuine encounter with Dakini
activity. I was doing Vajrasattva ngondro at the time in retreat at my
old home. I will speak of it here, (though with great reluctance)
because as extraordinarily life changing as it was, I still went on to
make hopelessly foolish decisions in seeking out Lamas to be my
partners. It was a forceful dream that completely swept me up with a
power of its own into a radically different form of non-dual blissful
consciousness. The nature of the dream was Yab-Yum and clear light, and
receiving a message. It finally ended with me pondering an unfamiliar
script in the sky, at which point my intellect interfered and I fell
down, down, down and woke up.
I know these things should not be talked about, especially plastered
over the Internet for god's sake, but I sort of feel ok about it
because I have not divulged the message, though I have done so to a
handful of trusted friends, and I probably shouldn't have, and I won't
in the future.
The point I am trying to make here is that one can (and if I can,
anyone can) have powerful awakening experiences and still be pretty
much fucked up in other areas of one's life.
So, is this what is happening with the Lamas?
I also mention this to show why I believe in a so-called secret level
of consciousness which pervades the Tantras, and why I cannot dismiss
Tibetan Buddhism as a load of bunkum. Though I am asking myself whether
such experiences do not belong to the Eastern Tradition alone, but are
within the capacity of every human being. It is a function of the human
mind. However the Tibetan Lamas and yogins seem to have monopolized it
and have somehow managed to steal power over women. So we are being
raped."
Geir
"RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF PEMA ZANGMO
January 14, 2004
I arrived at Rigpa not long after the most wonderful time in my life:
my hippy days in India, Nepal and Sikkim. I had devotion to The 16th
Karmapa fresh in my heart and fond memories of the Lamas I had crushes
on. There had been quite a bit of bottom-pinching then too! (I also
knew the handsome Achi, and he was good-looking then. Though I turned
him down on principal of pride! He had just gone through my best
friends! He didn't mind, it was worth a try!)
I had also had a series of Nyams involving altered states of
consciousness ... black consciousness beyond self ... consciously
entering dreams ... consciously coming back from the state of sleep
into my body (not drug induced, though I wondered whether earlier acid
trips had opened up a part of my brain). I wanted to understand them
and I wanted a Lama lover. As simple as that. The haste with which
Sogyal filled that role rather took me by surprise. I had been
initiated into the Manic Mandala. He kept me there/I could not get out,
because of my weak spots that had hooked me in.
I chose to stay there although the alarm bells went off almost
immediately. It was my damn pride that tangled me up.
One of his French girlfriends arrived and I was cold-shouldered. He
used that tactic again and again. I just felt so cheap. I regretted
sleeping with him. But in order not to be cast out -- my terror of
rejection -- I hung in. I also hung in because I was hungry for the
Dharma, though I never ever regarded Sogyal as an enlightened person.
Rigpa was an arena where I could meet like-minded people and receive
Teachings from Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche in England and France. I was
assigned to do the driving.
On one occasion I was bringing Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche, who was sitting
in the front seat and his monks in the back, from another Centre in the
North. I was completely exhausted as Sogyal as usual had messed up all
the practical logistics that people in the normal walks of life would
resort to. We were all very stressed out. (His own stress being put
back on us?) Anyway, driving back as night and rain fell, I was on the
Motorway and due to roadworks a far too narrow lane of bollards had
been set out. I could hardly keep my eyes open and now I had to
navigate a tricky course. This was made worse because a fantasy flashed
into my mind taking me completely unawares. In the most unwanted,
untimely fantasy that has ever seized my thoughts, I was performing
oral sex on the gentleman beside me. I was so embarrassed wondering if
he could read my mind. I broke out into a cold sweat. Narrowly avoiding
the bollards I struggled to gain control of my mind. It was truly a
terrible moment in my life. He was quietly reciting mantras on his mala
and I was in a complete panic. In desperation I sent out a thought
bubble to him, "I am so sorry it's just my ego." In a twinkling the
fantasy vanished. Truly vanished without trace.
Later I shyly told one of his long-term students in the Dordogne about
the episode and he laughed and said it was a Bhutanese joke! I will
never know. But I truly adored Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche who never laid a
finger on me. He was one of the few Lamas I really thought wanted to
convey a culture-free independence to me. This story slips in to show
how sexual imagery is so much part and parcel of the Tantric fabric. It
is the doorway to the slippery slope down which fake masters have slid.
One day I was hitchhiking outside La Sonnerie during a break of some
Daka Dakini ceremony being given by Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche. A car
screeched to a halt sending up a cloud of dust. I needed to go in the
opposite direction. The young male driver obligingly turned the car
round. He told me he had been in the last three year Retreat but had
got out after the first year. Within ten minutes we were at it like
rabbits in a vegetable patch. I think we were both quite astonished.
All that talk of Dakas and Dakinis ... all that sexuality pulsing away
underneath the outward show of ceremonies ... A bubbling cauldron of
good old healthy lust with sexually liberated western women and young
Lamas who had had celibacy forced upon them tossed in together.
Sogyal had indeed made a fortuitous rebirth as the reincarnation of
Padmasambhava ... except that he wasn't. I have to stop here as I need
to go to the shops, and I'm starting to get flippant when actually this
subject matter is a very serious one. This has been a kind of preamble
to set the stage."
Geir
what I know for sure is that each little ounce of sin is being ripped
out of Tibetan Tantric Buddhism by the systematical posting of such
sins' errors in full Technicolour and Surround-Sound here on ARBT.
Now continuing to steam roll with the Kalachakra through all the
obstacles here to Buddhism, here's an excerpt about Sonam Kazi, someone
I only vaguely have heard about from translations and from visits made
by a French film-maker, Arnaud Desjradins, who made TB known in France
and got films with Sonam Kazi in them. I don't know the first thing
about this guy first hand at all. (He's not even a Tibetan from what I
get out of it.)
" POEM DATED 2/29/04 INTRODUCING LETTER DATED SPRING/02 TO TENSING
GYALTSO OF H.H. THE DALAI LAMA'S OFFICE
by Anonymous
The Guru's Song
(All experience is naught but conception)
"I want to fuck you, yes, it's a test"
(Conceptions are empty)
"You're the best"
(Yes and no sound the same knell)
"If you say no, you'll go to hell"
(To displease the Guru is a sinful shame)
"If you refuse you'll cause me pain"
(What is truth when it doesn't exist?)
-- It's all a lie when you insist!
Spring, 2002
To Mr. Tensing Gyaltso, H.H. the Dalai Lama:
I am writing to you now because I think I am finally able to speak
clearly of my experience.
I want to do what I can to prevent what has happened to me from
destroying the faith and mental health of other innocent students of
Tibetan Buddhism.
I was searching for "what is really real" throughout my young life, and
felt I had finally found a true path when I met Mr. Sonam Kazi and
heard the Dzog-chen teachings for the first time in the early 1970's,
when I was in my early 20's.
I practiced, studied, and eagerly listened to the teachings. I was
ready to sacrifice my life to realize for the sake of all sentient
beings. I could think of no better goal and purpose in life than to
solve the root cause of the problem of suffering. My practice led to
many confirming spiritual experiences, especially through the practice
of the Chenrezi sadhana. I believed in the Dharma with all my heart and
soul. I emulated Tilopa and Milarepa as inspirations to persevere in
the practice, come what may.
Then suddenly, everything changed. One day, when I was 28 or 29 years
old, Sonam Kazi called me and said, "I want to fuck you." I was
shocked. I did not have any interest in sex with him. I was not
attracted to him physically. I was happily married to a wonderful
partner who was also a trusting student.
I was told "this is a test". I appeared, had sex with him, and was told
"you passed the test and don't have to do this again." Perhaps my
discomfort was obvious. I replied, clearly, "Good!"
But from then on, my life slowly became a nightmare. The calls from him
were constant. Whenever I tried to object or explain how I felt, my
guru would become enraged. I would be guilty of the terrible sin of
displeasing the guru. I was told that if I did not comply I would never
realize, I would go to hell, the teacher would cease to teach, others
would therefore not be able to realize and I would be responsible for
the demise of the only true Dzog-chen teaching in the west.
I was told to constantly lie. Lies were damtsig. I could not speak of
the sex and other experiences to anyone, all in the name of damtsig. I
began to develop severe migraine headaches that would invariably
afflict me the day after each visit. I had another chronic condition,
aggravated by his sexual practices, of cyctitis that he at first
refused to accommodate. I now have a permanent bladder condition as a
result of constant painful infections. I was only able to escape from
anal sex by presenting him with a large wad of toilet paper completely
soaked in red blood (telling him that I could not have normal bowel
movements or comfortably sit down for days after his visits made no
difference) There were times when I was sick, feverish, racked with
bronchitis or bladder pain and would plead for him to leave me alone -
to no avail. My condition didn't matter. I contracted an unpleasant
STD two times from him. I knew he was also sleeping with many other
students, and was concerned for their safety as well as my own, but he
would always deny it. I eventually felt sure I would die, a sacrifice
to the others who would benefit from the teaching.
Fortunately, another student who had a similar experience and had
become a therapist helped me to finally say "no". I began to wake up
from a nightmare that in some ways will never end. I see how Sonam Kazi
became the leader of a classic cult - increasingly isolated, paranoid,
critical of every other teacher (including yourself), and convinced
that he alone possessed the true teaching, which he guarded more and
more jealously.
Students could not talk to each other and were berated, accused, abused
in meetings. Students who left were considered spiritual failures,
damtsig breakers, and were shunned. Any teaching had ceased long ago.
Compassion and truth had become subverted to control, power, and
paranoia. A sexual predator used the Dharma to give his addiction free
reign.
After I made the break and began to collect myself, I began to call
other students, especially women, who had left, fearing that their
experience may have mirrored my own. I was appalled. The same threats:
"you'll have bad luck forever", "you'll never realize", "you'll
suffer in hell forever"..."if you say no to the guru" or "if you leave
me".
There has been so much damage, so much grief, suffered by innocent
students, the "spiritual children" of the Dharma, dedicated to doing
their best to learn and practice the Tibetan Buddhist teaching. Many of
the women, and men, left before their faith was destroyed. I am a
stubborn person and was determined to follow in Tilopa's footsteps.
How many times did I have to jump off that roof...
I now cannot look at a Tibetan thanka painting without getting sick to
my stomach. I don't believe in any dharma or spiritual philosophy. I
truly believe that anyone who accepts any doctrine is illusioned. I
have no faith. My husband says that faith, hope, and charity have
caused more suffering in his life than cynicism and skepticism. I was
severely depressed for many years, and still suffer from symptoms of
post traumatic stress. The traumatic effect Sonam Kazi had on my
husband and our relationship has been profound as well. I believe we
will never fully recover from over 20 years of physical, mental, and
spiritual abuse. Other women as well as myself in Sonam Kazi's
"sangha" have contemplated suicide. Fortunately, we have all, so far,
survived and are pursuing our various paths to recovery.
I have met you many times in the company of Sonam Kazi in New York and
once in Dharamsala. I have the most profound respect and belief in your
palpably compassionate nature. I have hope that compassion for future
students of Buddhism will motivate you to confront the abuse
perpetrated in the name of the Teachings, and publicly censure such
acts and teachers. Self styled gurus such as Sonam Kazi have no
supervision or hierarchy of control over their behavior. You are
recognized as the spiritual leader of the Tibetan Buddhist tradition. I
hope that you can make a difference.
Sincerely,
"
Geir
Buddhism.
Fishing around in the ABOL site here's some more of the writings of
Pema Zangmo that showed up :
RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER
January 15, 2004
It is extremely hard for anyone first arriving at Rigpa to see the full
picture, indeed even in the present day. Oscar has so well described
the set up of people willing to go beyond their personal boundaries in
the name of spiritual transformation. We swam in a sea of painful
emotions, trusting that the process would take us to the far shore.
Students walked the talk but didn't talk the walk. We were all in the
dark, hooked in by whatever it was in our character that we thought was
being transformed. I became very good at masking my feelings. Far too
proud to let on to anyone how deeply upset I was by Sogyal's
selfishness. This I expressed only to the man himself and we had
frequent blazing rows. I felt that many people were embarrassingly
sycophantic or so immersed in the stuff that was going on with them and
their own relationship with Sogyal, they walked around with blinders
on. I include myself in this last group, fixating on the light and not
understanding the dark undercurrent. Glorious people like Dilgo
Khyentse Rinpoche would come in all his magnificence, and our
difficulties would pale in his aura and the panache of the grand
ceremonies. But there were troubled waters lurking in those hidden
depths as well. In the minds of the young Lamas who felt trapped in
what we took to be validation of the reasons we were giving to allow
our worlds to be ripped apart. The light was bright and the dark
impenetrable.
At one time (I don't know about what was happening in the States)
Sogyal had four main longstanding relationships with women. Three
French and myself. I think we contained him because we treated him like
a normal person. I was very fond of him because he could be sweet and
spontaneously childlike, warm and kind. It was awkward bumping into the
other women at retreats, but I couldn't dislike them, they had fine
qualities. I tended to give them a wide berth as I worked on the idea
of responsible non-monogamy. After a mutual display of
one-up-womanship, a kind of camaraderie and sympathy developed. But it
wasn't a healthy, responsible, non-monogamy that could endure. He was
too selfish and at times manipulative. I think he went through a lot of
stress himself creating a vast machine that almost engulfed him.
To begin with there was none of the "I'm a re-incarnation of
Padmasambhava" nonsense, but towards the end it was creeping in. The
writing was on the wall. I and the French women left at around the same
time. His treatment of us was unacceptable. Later when I heard about
what had befallen other women I was deeply shocked. The court case was
hushed up. I read about it in the newspaper and then no more.
I know now that the Centre in the South of France is flourishing.
Sogyal has a small son from an American woman with whom it was hoped he
would settle down. He has the endorsement of leading Lamas who count
him as a friend and they all gather to have their group photos taken at
the end of retreats. All smiling and lying through their teeth.
Just keep the show on the road and stay out of Sogyal Rinpoche's
personal problems. I would like, for his sake as much as everyone's,
that his personal problems are dealt with by down to earth westernized
Tibetans."
Geir
a good sign.
She's probably contacted ABOL to get it taken off the air, but still
leaves them with the cut-off link on the site-map page.
Why ? Probably she saw that the whole thing was being published here by
me and asked the webmaster to take it off because she didn't want to
get involved with dogfighting with the lamas that she denounces.
Also, she was also probably getting echoes from the lamas that were
panicking and asking to get the flak controlled as much as possible. I
take her retreating her link from ABOL, as the sign that the Tibetans
are freaked out about the whole fraud-scam being publiished here by me
and also so on RFA and Phayul, the homeland ng of Tibetan Tantric
Buddhism.
I've tried her link all day but here's the links following that first
one which also contain links to Mary's reporting work in magazines
about the Tibetan fraud in lamas.
"RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF MARY FINNIGAN
by Mary Finnigan
(from the London paper, The Guardian, 10/01/95)
The Tibetan lama Sogyal Rimpoche is being sued for $10 million in the
United States by a woman who alleges sexual harassment, coercion and
abuse. Sogyal (Rimpoche is an honorary title meaning Precious Jewel)
has been teaching Buddhist meditation for more than 20 years, with a
world-wide following and meditation centres known as The Rigpa
Fellowship in London, France, Ireland, America and Australia. He is the
author of a best-seller, The Tibetan Book of Living And Dying, and
appeared in Bertolucci's film Little Buddha. The Rigpa Fellowship in
London has issued a letter informing its members that a suit has been
brought against Sogyal Rimpoche. Although he is not a monk, and has not
taken vows of celibacy, he is accused of using his position to obtain
sexual favours. Allegations like these threaten to blow a hole in the
aura of asceticism and austerity surrounding Buddhism in the West.
In the late 1960s, western hippies seeking spiritual enlightenment were
drawn to the Tibetans' exuberant, colourful style. Tibet was seen as a
Buddhist Shangri-La -- a far cry from the reality of a country under
repressive Chinese occupation.
In the seventies, rumours started to circulate about other
globe-trotting Buddhist gurus, who were said to be seducing their
students and behaving more like spiritual barons than spiritual
mentors, exercising _droit du seigneur_ among their followers. The late
Trungpa Rimpoche was one of the first high-ranking Tibetan lamas to
learn English, which he studied at Oxford in the mid-sixties. He
fathered a child while still a monk, discarded his robes and settled in
America, where he gained a reputation as an inspired meditation
teacher. He became a role model for others, including Sogyal Rimpoche.
He was also an alcoholic and a notorious womaniser. He died of drink in
1987. Before his death, he chose Osel Tenzin, an American student as
his Successor. Osel died of Aids, after passing the HIV virus to
several of his students.
Although not all Tibetan teachers are monks - many have renounced their
vows and some are from non-celibate traditions - if a sexual
relationship arises, the imbalance of power in the teacher-pupil
relationship can lay the student open to abuse. Many Buddhists see this
as a contravention of the moral code which frowns on all actions that
cause harm.
At a conference of western Buddhist teachers in India last year, the
Dalai Lama urged delegates not to be afraid of criticising corrupt
gurus. "If you cannot find any other way of dealing with the problem,"
he said, "tell the newspapers."
Last year, an American woman and former pupil of Sogyal decided to
bring a civil case anonymously, and was allowed by the court in Santa
Cruz, California, to use the pseudonym Janice Doe. She says in her suit
that she approached Sogyal at a time of a time of confusion, shortly
after her fathers death. According to the suit, Sogyal told her that
"through devotion and his spiritual instruction, she could purify her
family's karma". The woman alleges he seduced her the next day,
claiming that she would be "strengthened and healed by having sex with
him".
However unconvincing such an argument may sound, the Zen priest Yvonne
Rand, who is counselling Janice Doe, points out that the relationship
between guru and disciple is one of power and submission. People who
seek guidance from a spiritual master want to believe what he or she
tells them.
"Many women who seek out spiritual teachers come from dysfunctional
families. They may have experienced physical and/or sexual abuse, had
no father or bad father relationships, so are looking for a good
father. This creates blind spots in their perception of a teacher."
Rand is emphatic that such high risk relationships rarely benefit both
parties. This opinion is shared by other women who have had sexual
liaisons with their gurus.
"I was touched by his need for me," says one, who had a long
relationship with a lama, "but it was difficult and strange, in no way
a normal relationship. It fuelled my fantasies about having special
qualities, but he debunked them. I felt empowered by him but though he
treated me with respect, I was always aware he had other lovers."
Another woman speaks of the confusion that arose from being first a
humble devotee, then an exalted sexual partner, then back in the ranks
again. "I felt used," she says "He put his needs above mine."
More recently, a young English woman attended a residential retreat.
She thought she had been singled out for special attention only to
discover that she was being invited to join a harem. "At first I was
flattered, and very open and trusting. He encouraged me to fall in love
with him - but I realised that he was toying with me. I noticed several
other young, pretty women going in and out of his apartment, when I
confronted him with this, he dropped me for the rest of the time I was
there."
Did she learn anything from her intimacy with the guru? "He gave me
good advice, but I am left with a hangover of pain and confusion. I
also have doubts about Buddhism. If anything, I have learnt to be more
cautious."
Rand and the British Buddhist teacher Ngakpa Chogyam Rimpoche share the
view that the majority of westerners sign up too quickly with their
gurus and find themselves in a much more intense relationship than they
had bargained for. This is especially true of Tibetan Tantric Buddhism
which, at an advanced level, incorporates sexual union into spiritual
practice.
Rand believes that westerners often fail to make the distinction
between a teacher who helps along the way and a guru who is an
enlightened being.
"Some Tibetan lamas do not see themselves as accountable in the western
sense of the word," says Ngakpa Chogyam. "They get blown off-centre by
too much adulation."
This potential for adulation makes it vital that teachers accept
responsibility for the well being of their students. Responsibility
must include, if not celibacy, then extreme care with sex. According to
psychologist Deborah Clarke, everyone who enters into a spiritual or
therapeutic relationship is vulnerable to exploitation.
"I'd be furious if a guru made a pass at me," she says. "They should
all know by now that people with that sort of power have a moral and
ethical duty not to abuse it."
"
Geir
Kalachakra-obstacles is what she does. Steam 'em !
Get rid of the problems. (Actually these are the ones I've already
posted to begin with, so these are just the same but will be the
next-to-last before going on to the aweful Trungpa-story posts.)
"
RANDY SOGYAL, BEST-SELLING LECHER -- THE WRITINGS OF MARY FINNIGAN
From: Mary Finnigan (ma...@pema.demon.co.uk)
Newsgroups: alt.religion.buddhism.tibetan
Date: 1999/10/29
[deleted portion]
It was with these basic concepts that I came to respect the Buddhist
path and wanted to practice Buddhism. Since the teachers of these
concepts, the Tibetan Lamas I studied with, elucidated these ideas, it
was logical that the lamas' aim was to practice these concepts in their
daily lives. Since the Lamas taught morality, the importance of not
causing others suffering, skilful means, the laws of cause and effect,
it being wrong to deceive or crave or be attached to one's lust, it was
a natural conclusion to think that the lamas made an effort to practice
themselves what they were teaching.
I met enough lamas who were apparently good examples of Buddhism not to
have my guard up when I met Sogyal, who was translating for HH Dudjom
Rinpoche. At the end of Dudjom Rinpoche's teaching, Sogyal stated to a
roomful of people if they had questions to leave their name and number
on a notepad and he would try and answer everybody. He phoned me about
two weeks later and he said he couldn't answer my question over the
phone, but to come to his apartment.
About 7 or 8 minutes after my arrival at this place he sexually
assaulted me. He thrust his body on me after patting my head and face
seemingly affectionately as in a blessing. What ensued was completely
unexpected and unwanted. The act was over after several minutes. I
didn't scream, I didn't fight, I was polite and deferential. I simply
didn't want to believe that a Buddhist lama would intend to do me harm.
Not only did this cause me great emotional anguish, but I became
pregnant by Sogyal and later miscarried.
At the time I was 22, newly having taken refuge and devoutly Buddhist.
I didn't have the knowledge how to sort the good Lamas from the bad
Lamas, fake Buddhists from real Buddhists. In my mind, if one was a
Buddhist, one was basically good. If one was a Lama, one was holy and
to be greatly respected. I rationalized Sogyal's actions as some kind
of blessing that I would later come to understand, but his assault and
subsequent behavior showed me that he had no interest in my benefit. I
hardly knew him for more than a few minutes before he sexually
assaulted me. There was no way I could have known what he was going to
do.
He caused me great suffering. I perceived him to be a deceitful,
self-serving person at that time. Since1976, I have heard many similar
stories on three continents that I believe that he has not changed and
has not lived up to his title of Lama or Rinpoche.
The Geshe and Sakya Trizin, however, were both people I trusted
utterly. Both for different reasons. The Geshe was a respected monk,
strict in the observance of his vows. Our relationship was very much
like that of a father and daughter in his personal communication with
me. He worried if I took a train alone, travelled by myself. He told me
childish, innocent jokes. We discussed Buddhist dialectics almost every
day for 1-1/2 years. When he said he wanted to "blow on my heart" to
alleviate my mental tension (lung), I did not expect him to order me to
lift my pullover to expose my breasts. I was 23 years old. He didn't
touch me. I don't know what his motivation was, it just felt wrong to
me. I was full of shame. I lost a kind of innocent trust I had in him.
It also caused me suffering. It felt like a breach of boundaries.
As for Sakya Trizin, I had known him and his family for years. I know
the Rajpur community where he lives extremely well. There are a number
if Indians living along Rajpur Road who rent apartments or rooms to
foreign visitors. I rented the upper floor of an Indian family's house
across the road from Sakya Trizin. I also spent a lot of time at the
houses of many other families in Rajpur. Three of Sakya Trizin's
disciples knew of his request to be yab-yum with me at the time. One of
his disciples read my diary and discussed the fact she read "His
Holiness Sakya Trizin came to my place to do consort practice" both
with her boyfriend and with me. I still have the diary. The exact
dates were: December 3rd and 6th, 1981. I also discussed this "consort
practice" with my best friend who was a disciple of Sakya Trizin. I had
been a student of Sakya Trizin for only a few months before he asked me
to have sex with him. It is my belief he was interested in the sex not
for my or other beings benefit, but to satisfy his personal lust. The
effect was that I totally lost faith in Lamas as trustworthy. In fact,
I felt sickened, disgusted and miserable.
I am genuinely concerned that many other western women may have
suffered the same effects after being approached for sex by Lamas.
To sum up, I suffered loss of faith and trust, I felt violated,
betrayed. I experienced pregnancy and miscarriage, and felt shame and
disillusionment for many years since these events. I have not been able
to feel safe with a Lama since. It has also discouraged me from
participation in the Sangha, not only because of these actual events,
but from the lack of understanding and outright blame from other
Buddhists. Although still in my heart I am very much a Buddhist
practitioner. "
I'll move on quickly now seeing I've already posted these here at the
top of the thread.
Geir
the rot of Tibetan Tantric Buddhism. Apart from one link that doesn't
work, all the rest linked to her writings work just fine. So, thanks to
her writings and clout (BBC long-time reporter) she can bring the
frauds to heel.
So we're working out from the basis here of Mary's writings and those
of Pema Zangmo : the "Thorn in the Lotus". Later comes what I've
already posted : "The Writings of Amlearning" the Time Magasine heiress
also victimized sexually by Tibetan lamas.
"THE THORN IN THE LOTUS
by Pema Zangmo
Table of Contents:
Part One: An Appraisal of Western Womens' Sexual Relationships With
Tibetan Lamas
Part Two: Lifting Up That Tibetan Carpet to See What's Been Swept
Underneath
Part One: An Appraisal of Western Womens' Sexual Relationships With
Tibetan Lamas
In trying to address the question of whether western women who have
entered into sexual relationships with Tibetan Lamas are getting a fair
deal, I have attempted to begin by looking at four main categories that
immediately spring to mind.
As I am speaking mostly from my own experience, as well as from
friends' and what I have gleaned from other women's accounts, I have
tried my utmost to keep as an objective a perspective as possible, only
including my own insights since I know them to be fact, and on which my
views are ultimately based. Hopefully, at least one Tibetan Lama,
puzzled by us westerners may find some inkling into what really goes on
in the mind of a western woman! Maybe a useful discussion might ensue.
Who knows?
I can see both sides of the argument, but have to say from the outset
that my enquiry comes from the belief that too many women have suffered
too much through misunderstandings in their relations with certain
Lamas. They did not deserve the subsequent confusion that had a
negative impact on their own spiritual path. I am not seeking to be
proved right, but simply to open a discussion on the subject. While
asking myself these questions, I hope to unravel the tangled thread of
my own doubts from which arose the need to consider the matter in the
first place.
As I put forward these suggestions, I am mindful to remember ttat the
majority of Lamas will believe they are coming from a perspective of
non- duality and their actions are intended to be for their female
partner's good. Perhaps some are simply addressing their own sexual
needs in an honest way, but often don't have the wherewithal to go
about a "relationship" since their whole upbringing and training has
been to bypass the relative level of human interaction.
I think this is the main area where the difficulty arises. Even in
situations when the Lama has made it clear he does not want to be
looked upon as a teacher, it will still be a highly charged spiritual
experience on the woman's side who will regard him as a very special
companion closer than any other to the affairs of her heart, namely her
devotion to the Teachings. When that relationship fails it will hit her
harder than the dissolution of a relationship conducted on a more
mundane footing.
While the misunderstandings remain, there will be unhappiness on both
sides. If we can bring greater clarity to the subject with
compassionate, forward-thinking, open minds, it could well be that we
have much to learn from each other; as I believe is the case with
Tibetan Lamas and genuine western students in general.
Before I point the finger of blame at anyone, I need to look with a
magnifying glass at my own shortcomings in this respect and say a
little bit about my personal perspective. I probably fell at the first
hurdle of spiritual pride and arrogance or most importantly spiritual
ambition. I had been gifted with a sensitive, highly intuitive nature
and fluid mind that could quite easily perceive different subtleties of
experience. I was absolutely committed to the Dharma and felt dependent
on it as a guideline because there were no examples in my own western
culture to account for the subtle levels of perception I was tuning
into. I don't think that what I call my pride and arrogance can be
equated with the normal meanings of those words in their grossest
sense, but there was a definite sense of ambition which countered the
Dzogchen approach of total letting go and relaxation.
The reason for this I believe was that I was bolstering my confidence
in order to deal with a western society and friends and family, who
could not begin to grasp what I was trying to do and who often became
difficult obstacles in themselves. This meant that during the tough
times in the Dharma Centers I had no one to confide in. In reaction I
became ambitious for the success of my practice. But actually the
practices that people were doing around me went against the natural
flow of my mind and I felt as though I was being restricted into a
smaller more rigid mind set. After a brilliant start in my twenties and
early thirties, my clarity departed and I could not find the
appropriate Lama to guide me back to it. Confusion reigned. It could
possibly be argued that this is a normal stage in the Tantric process,
but I would not wish it upon anybody. I am convinced there are simpler
methods for western students to engage with the Teachings if we only
look for them.
I may be digressing, but I have felt it important to show the basis on
which this enquiry is built which is after all, my personal experience
and viewpoint.
For a while now, I have heard disgruntled mutterings in the ranks of
other students. Some did break out in an explosion of festering rage
and turned their back on the whole caboodle. Others said they were
afraid that if they left the Dharma group, they would not be able to
cope with the outside world and they would lose touch with the
Teachings, so they stayed where they felt safe, but with their mouths
buttoned up. For me, both these approaches are neither sensible nor
helpful.
I still believe there is a rare and beautiful gem to be discovered
within the packaging of Tibetan Buddhism, and consider my journey at
least to be one of carefully taking away the coverings. At the same
time I believe I am uncovering the wrappings of my own heart wisdom.
That is my personal viewpoint; right or wrong. I merely intend to say
what is true for me and to offer my voice up to join with others in a
discussion on how Westerners and Tibetan Lamas may address the problems
which have been coming to light in the area of misunderstandings and to
move forward in a brave, new direction.
This enquiry's purpose is first and foremost to try and establish if in
the area of intimate physical relationships taken as a spiritual
enterprise, the Lama' s perspective is absolutely correct, or whether
it can and should be modified in a more balanced way, since the female
partner is half the input of energy into the alchemical process. I do
not claim that there is automatically an equality of spiritual
attainment between the partners at this early stage. I am not talking
about a romantic love affair such as enjoyed by the majority of couples
in the ordinary day to day world, but a transformational process
employed as a means to go beyond dualistic consciousness.
Some budding female students of Ati yoga will have trusted that the
Lama's behavior was intended to help cut through the dualistic
tendencies of their minds. Miranda Shaw has written a fascinating book,
"Passionate Enlightenment: Women in Tantric Buddhism ". She clarified
everything I once believed to be true and possible. But I now have
reservations that such books, although of scholarly interest, only
succeed in giving an unrealistic picture of what is actually attainable
for most of us. It is so much easier to write and speak of high
metaphysics and theories, than to actually put them into practice.
Anyway, with confidence in my own foundation of experience and with a
twinkle in my eye, I was more than willing to have a try. But I fell
flat on my face and had to ask whether there are any modern day women
who have really broken through and can honestly say it has worked for
them. Or whether it is simply all a myth? And if it is not working, why
is it not working?
Where better place to start than with the case of Kalu Rinpoche and
June Campbell?
I) The case of Kalu Rinpoche and June Campbell must surely be the most
authentic example of what may initially have been intended as a genuine
spiritual practice actually not working, at least not for the female
partner. Why didn't it work? Kalu Rinpoche had presumably mastered
advanced practices and June Campbell was a sincere and dedicated
student who revered her teacher. But still there remained the problem
of a cultural divide. The bottom line was Ms. Campbell found herself
floundering in a welter of uncertainties. Things seemed not to have
really been explained clearly to her in a way that she knew where she
stood. And there would not have been anyone to turn to for advice as
the whole thing was a highly clandestine state of affairs. There seems
to have been a huge misunderstanding all round which begs the question
of whether these very high practices can ever work for the female
partner, or whether she is just an instrument whose purpose is to
excite the neurological makeup of the male practitioner. It seems Ms
Campbell's heart and feelings never came into the equation at the time.
Maybe her involvement with Kalu Rinpoche has subsequently opened up a
wealth of valuable understanding to her. But at what cost? Should women
have to pay such a high price? Can all the uncertainty and anguish be
avoided?
In the West, women who are in this position are not supported or
respected the way they would have been in Tibet. Very often they are
demeaned and treated badly by other students as well as by the Lama
himself doing his "wrathful manifestation" bit.
How sad!
How doubly sad that this situation with Kalu Rinpoche and his consort,
which surely should have worked, blatantly didn't.
What hope is there therefore with other cases?
2) Women who have already attained some subtle degree of realization
that they hope to expand in their friendships with Lamas they become
sexual partners of and intimately involved with.
This is a category that I believe I fell into. I include it here
because I think it's an important issue. It was my experience and I
think maybe likewise for other women.
As I write the words "They hope to expand in their friendships with
Lamas," I am aware that that was the initial mistake. In effect we did
not understand or respect our own gift of insight and spiritual
sensitivity. We sought to augment it by pairing up with a man we
expected to be an experienced spiritual practitioner and imagined we
were entering a more sacred ground. This is natural since we were after
all normal women with a healthy sexuality and loving hearts. We were
looking for spiritually compatible partners. Likewise, so were the
Lamas. But there all similarity of intent seems to end, in the majority
of cases. Let's look closely at this divergence of intention and ask
whether the rift can ever be resolved?
Clearly at the root of resulting misunderstandings is the belief
Tibetan Lamas are entrenched in, namely that to have sexual relations
with a woman is a great blessing for her. This leads to the commonsense
arithmetic that notching up as many women as possible on the bedpost
will equate with giving the maximum blessings one would wish to as a
practicing bodhisattva.
But invariably such behavior involves lies or deception or abandonment
in the guise of skilful means. There are a host of other reasons which
have left many women psychologically shattered and of most importance
to them, drowning in a sea of self- doubt about their spiritual energy
and practice. Having myself been in that state of despair, I am looking
closely at where I on my side as having been one half of the
relationship, was making mistakes. I don't automatically blame any of
my partners. It is a shared responsibility.
My mistake was not to have trusted my own spiritual awakening to unfold
naturally in the first place. I was greedy for Teachings.
But what I discovered that came as a shock was that I lost my capacity
for clear dreams and insights. My energy levels suffered. I had
insomnia and a barrage of migraines. Something shut down as I dealt
with all the hurt and confusion in the way the Lamas went about their
relationships with western women. They may have been intending to
disarm our egos, but they did a hatchet job like butchers.
The scenario I am portraying here is when a Lama perceives he is within
the sacred Mandala, and any willing woman who manifests at any moment
is the Dakini. It is desirable for him to have sex with her. His view
of the Dakini is in the appearance of waves of ever-changing female
forms.
Ideally in the case of very advanced practitioners this may be true and
such a practice is legitimate. In Tibet such women would have been
supported by their family which would have lessened the personal
attachment and dependence. Tibetans are fairly matter-of-fact about
sexuality, and a great honor would have been conferred upon the
consort's family.
But what we actually have in the West, is that in many cases when Lamas
attempt this practice, it goes badly wrong. It is now being called
sexual abuse. Why? Why is it not benefiting the females in question?
Because in the first place these Lamas are always calling the shots and
moving the goal posts in their own favor. I suggest the Lama's
compassion is not for his partner but for himself and it amounts to a
form of vampirism as the woman's spiritual energy is sucked out of her.
She has trusted the Lama to take her with him beyond boundaries, but
she discovers she is being utilized for her sex and can easily be
discarded whenever he wishes without any sense of loyalty towards her
or care for her well-being.
I suggest these Lamas are self-deluded. Too many women have suffered in
their hands. Their voices are silenced, numbed by pain and
bewilderment; disempowered by the Lama whom they had loved and trusted.
In turn, when the Lama is called into question in glaring publicity, he
must surely suffer too as he faces the consequences of his actions.
Perhaps he is as bewildered as anyone that the practice hasn't worked.
What is there in it for the female Dharma practitioner, who is often a
student of that Rinpoche? At the outset (unless she is just passing
through and a pretty face he's taken a fancy to) the woman will be a
sincere devotee of the Dharma with at least a good understanding of
pure awareness, if only as little glimpses. She knows there is more to
reality than meets the dualistic eye. She has a passionate devotion to
the Teachings. Her initial insights have proved to her its efficacy. At
this point, her practice is apparently going well.
But the stormy seas ahead prove overwhelming. Huge doubts set in. The
fact is, when she is really honest with herself, something is simply
going badly wrong with her energy. The prescribed practices are not
helping, and only making her energy worse. If she is lucky, she will
have realized she has given away her power.
Once, I would have gone along with all of this, still believing it was
necessary to undergo the pain to progress, to surrender the ego, but
one thing stuck in my throat: I intuitively knew it was all wrong for
me. What remained of my clarity in my dreams screamed out to me to get
out and go it alone.
More devastating than the misunderstanding on an emotional level
arising within personal relationships is the misunderstanding about
entering a state of non-duality. This was really the deepest trap I had
fallen into.
3) The misunderstanding that the course of a relationship is bound to
lead to a refinement of transcendent love.
This is perhaps one of the most acutely painful of misunderstandings. I
believe there are a good many western female practitioners who have
gained a subtle insight into non-duality. They are highly intuitive in
their own right and would still have the faculties of subtle perception
whether or not they practiced any religion. They were drawn to Tibetan
Buddhism because it focuses on this aspect of themselves and they
sought to receive guidance into developing their gift.
Take such a woman who enters into a physically intimate relationship
with a Rinpoche believing (like him) that it will aid her practice. She
is careful to work on her attachment and not to cling. She surrenders
her ground, joyfully believing her own perception of the Mandala is
being strengthened. She often feels deeply connected to the Lama and
inspired by her intimacy with him. With courage she endures unpleasant
states of emotion, and embarrassments, as she negotiates the unfamiliar
territory of non-monogamy. Willing to face any challenge to go beyond
the boundary of duality, she is not deterred when things go counter to
her wishes. Her faith in the Lama and the Teachings is steadfast. At
the same time she is not a doormat, she does have her dignity and
reprimands what she sees as his male chauvinist errors.
But actually she cannot see very far. Too much is hidden from her.
Everything on a very basic level is conspiring against her. The Lama
capriciously masterminds the Mandala she believes herself to be in. She
willingly gives up her ground seemingly to a greater spaciousness, but
the Lama appears to be drifting further and further away as her place
is filled by another hopeful and another and another.
She asks herself whether the relative level of the relationship is at
an end because "relationships" necessarily have to cease before the
non-dual state is attained? Is the Dharmakaya level opening up? She
patiently waits and waits as the world falls to pieces around her. She
may have to wait forever. Nine times out of ten the Lama has simply
broken off the relationship which was never on such an altruistic level
in the first place. He has moved on, swallowed up by his adoring
followers multiplying all over the world. She has lost the man she had
loved as well as her power which nature had once endowed her with. She
is left utterly bereft. No sky-dancing here, but dangling in limbo.
However, I also believe this need not be the end of the story. It is up
to us to be refilled with a renewed vigor. Our powers of intuition, if
we allow them to flow naturally, will not let us down. Now we will
respect them as being ours by right, and we can honor the deity within
ourselves, and no longer be beholden to the Lama in the role of lover.
Perhaps we can even jump back into that melting pot but with a more
balanced sense of shared responsibility.
4) The melting pot of shared responsibility
We don't have to walk away sadder but wiser and spend the rest of our
lives licking our wounds. The spiritual path will still keep unfolding
if we are absolutely true to ourselves. First we should acknowledge our
part in the relationship. We had made a free decision so we weren't
exactly victims, though I do think that many of us were misled.
I am aware that I contributed to whatever misunderstandings arose. I
can also contribute towards a better understanding developing in the
future. This I willingly do. I take part responsibility for my failed
relationships with the Rinpoches I knew and loved as the men in my
life. But I cannot stand idly by and watch other women suffer the
misery I went through if the Lamas do not change their ways. How can
they begin to change if they don't get feedback like this article'?
Let's all come a bit more down to earth and more into our hearts.
If the original melting-pot was an alchemy of our combined energies,
then it is true we have a choice of whether the outcome is a
progression from an understandable muddle given the content of the
ingredients, (i.e. Male v. Female; Eastern mentality v. Western
mentality; Relative truth v. Absolute truth), to a deeper level of
understanding, or whether we are just left sitting in a stew!
We have the chance now to open up a discussion, really coming from the
heart. I have entitled this article "The Thorn in the Lotus" to depict
the pain women are being subjected to when they are unfairly treated by
Lamas. Let's remove that thorn which has no place to be there.
I am writing under the nom de plume of my Tibetan name Pema Zangmo,
which was given to me by H.H. The Sixteenth Karmapa at Rumtek
Monastery, 28 years ago. It has been my devotion to him that has kept
me on this passionate path of the Tibetan Dharma.
I am normally called by my English name, but in this case wish to
conceal my identity and the identities of the Rinpoches I was involved
with. Personal identities are not important here. I am speaking on
behalf of Womankind.
Part Two: Lifting Up That Tibetan Carpet to See What's Been Swept
Underneath
I also wish to add briefly what I have felt is going wrong with the
transmission of the Teachings in the West via Tibetan Dharma Centers,
and offer a few suggestions.
There is no doubt in my mind whatsoever that within the Tibetan
diaspora of the past years, an incredible source of wisdom is being
disseminated in the West. For me it fills in the gaps which
Christianity, quantum physics, and near death experiences have left
unanswered. The essence of the Teachings, as with the message of Jesus
Christ, are a faultless and Universal Truth, but similar to the
Christian Church that has distorted Christ's original message and sent
many of its flock fleeing its aisles, the Tibetan hierarchy and method
of Teaching here in the west, although undoubtedly containing some
brilliant beacons of light, harbors some rotten apples that need to be
picked out.
Rotten apple 1)
The element of control can be far too one-sided in Dharma Centers. In
trying to follow to the letter the Lama's instructions to replicate a
Tibetan shrine-room, prayer service, and Tibetan way of doing things,
students can lose touch with their basic commonsense, and wander around
in a kind of submissive escape from self-responsibility.
Often fearing the wounding criticism from the Lama and ever trying to
please, they are reluctant to reflect back honestly a truthful picture
to the Lama, so it is not surprising if the Lama's own viewpoint is
distorted. Rarely do students say what they really think. And it is now
very much the case, that only those who have nothing to lose will
fearlessly speak the truth. They say what others have thought but have
not dared admit aloud.
The main problem here is that there really isn't any consistent
individual guidance taking place between Lama and student. Too often
the creation and running of the Centre is the Lama's priority.
Individuals become a blob of a sangha, being indoctrinated with a
foreign culture. Many older students now have salaried positions in the
Dharma Centre. They will not want to jeopardize their source of income
and way of life they've worked hard in the pecking order system to
achieve.
It has been my observation that there are many wonderful people
creating these Centers. I have no intention to undermine their good
intentions and hard work. But I have seen them beaten like donkeys as
they rush around arranging the Lama's schedule and Retreats in a
deliberately orchestrated panic which masquerades as a Teaching. They
are so busy organizing the Dharma Centers, few ever get the time to
practice in a way that will bring true realization and liberation.
Years of dedicated service has turned them into obedient slaves. Some
may now have a pleasant life. They've earned it. Like the workhorses
they resembled they have been put out to pasture, and new students
innocently and eagerly fill their shoes. I just wonder if they are
being really honest with themselves.
Perhaps that's the Tibetan way, but it is not good enough for the
Western world in the New Millennium.
Rotten apple 2)
Lamas are becoming spoilt. I once heard a highly respected Tibetan
Sangyum long ago declare in my presence that, "Students are spoiling
the Lamas and the Lamas are spoiling the students".
Lamas may feel they are practicing detachment but at the moment they
are still riding the crest of the waves, and westerners will go to any
lengths to be admitted into a Lama's inner circle. Their show of
detachment can be a mask for subtle selfishness. They will skillfully
manipulate situations to get everything they want, and believe it's
their good Karma. They are having such an enjoyable time holidaying in
the West, do they really care about the western students who help them,
or stop and think of their own people back home?
Rotten apple 3)
The Tulku system. There is a danger that Lamas get an unrealistic view
of their personal powers and limitations by identifying too much with
the Masters they are supposed to be the re-incarnations of.
Far worse than a questionable Tibetan Tulku who has after all received
the prerequisite training (and who knows with what inner turmoil
resulting?), is a self-proclaimed Western born Tulku or one that has
not received any training at all.
Rotten apple 4)
Within those Dharma Centers which become institutionalized alternative
societies, there is a danger that freedom of speech can be repressed.
The students get snared in a game of pretence, hiding their real
feelings. The teaching methods may work in a hit or miss way, but the
misses are very seriously damaging. Rarely are emotions transformed in
the way intended. They get swept under the carpet. The student is
required to replace reason with getting his head round half-baked
metaphysical theories shrouded in a foreign vocabulary, because reason
and gut feeling equates with ego. Some are thrown into such emotional
turmoil that they then make matters worse by trying to do unsuitable
Tantric practices to clear the way for them to regain the clarity of
non-duality which had arisen during Vispassana meditation. Instead of
flowing naturally forward, they are squashed backwards, and their
energy levels depleted or totally screwed up. Surely this must be due
to inept teachers, or well meaning ones who don't understand how our
western minds work. Some methods employed by Lamas can be compared with
deliberately wounding a healthy arm so that prescribed medicine can be
applied to make it heal. If there are no scars it is proof of the
medicine's efficacy. There are scars.
Rotten apple 5)
The topic of Guru/disciple relationship is good machinery to maintain
the wheels of Dharma Centers rolling, and keep the workers under
control.
I suspect that little of the real meaning of this term pertains
nowadays, except in very exceptional cases.
There are many books describing how to be a good student and how to
practice Guru Yoga, but this is like painting by numbers. There has to
be an actual living alchemy based on truthful communication and a very
deep heart level. I don't think that problems arise in one-to-one
meetings with great High Lamas who are often delighted to find a
spirited free- thinker, and who are truly sources of inspiration. To my
mind, it is best to catch them when you can, and to avoid Dharma
Centers. But the way things are at the moment, the only way to "catch
them" is when they visit Dharma Centers, and the individual session is
lost.
However, it's usually the case that if a student appears to show
dissent, they are regarded as a troublemaker who will threaten the
stability of the Dharma Center and sent to stand in the corner with
their back to the class. On the other side of the coin it could be said
that when a devotion/fear/hate attitude develops, they are not really
caring about their Teacher. If they had stood up to him, they might
have saved him from embarrassing publicity, or even saved his life.
Crucial to this problem, and where the Lamas think they have us over a
barrel, is the subject of non-duality. Our earthbound view is simply
wrong in the first place. The ego is erroneous full-stop. Full-stops
imply the curtailing of energetic flow. Yet it is precisely our
birthright of this energetic flow which connects us to the Nature of
our Mind.
There have been skillful Lamas who have encouraged this flow and too
many unskillful ones who dam it. Those are the ones intent on
controlling our minds to build their empires.
The fact that the ego is made out to be the villain of the piece, gives
the Lama free license to squash our freedom of self-expression and
creativity, or just to squash us on a whim. But it is within this very
creativity that we find our wings through relationships, to glide on
the Nature of Mind.
Harmonious relationships within the domain of ego are themselves
essential means to liberate this flow. Yet Lamas are notoriously
hopeless in this area.
For the Teaching methods to work most effectively in the West, they
need to change. We cannot afford to tolerate any longer the hit or miss
effects, and the damage done by unskillful Lamas who seem to be in the
majority.
I have heard of disturbing accounts regarding so-called Vajrayana
activity in certain Centers. I do not think that a Tibetanized form of
Indian Tantra is an appropriate vehicle to transmit the Teachings
clearly to westerners.
For instance, the usual depiction of Vajra Yogini does absolutely
nothing for me but take up the space in my mind from where she
spontaneously communicates to me. For years I blocked the activity of
what she represents with her Tibetan form. It was only when she
screamed at me in my dreams, with images that were acutely relevant, or
kept me awake at night or gave me nightmares, that I finally listened
to her and my own mind. But it required enormous courage and
independence in thought to break free from the mold. I could no longer
be part of a typical Sangha. I was out as a heretic. Actually, it was
voluntary exile, because there were people I really cared about in the
Centers, and I did not wish to upset them with my revolutionary
attitude. Having now got used to life in Vajra Hell, I am quite at home
here to be the devil's advocate.
This is the destination for those brave and dedicated students who
"disobey" the Lama and stick with the essence of the Teachings. Many
are now quietly going about their own lives as far away from a Dharma
Center as possibly can be. A little bit disillusioned and a little bit
enlightened. They have changed, because they now trust themselves.
It could be said that we got the message, so what are we complaining
about'? We survived the course, but others may not. I considered
suicide many times and know of one student who took that option. New
students need to be sufficiently warned and protected against all
possible chances of abuse. I suggest there should be an independent
official board for enquiries and complaints set up, perhaps on the
Internet. Masochistic diehards will say, "Well that is the end of
Vajrayana." To them I say, "Vajrayana is indestructible. Life still
continues as the Guru."
Speaking for myself, I still need expert guidance. I actually find I'm
back at square one, but it's a new square one and a fresh beginning. I
certainly don't want to be involved in a Dharma Center but would like
to keep connecting with helpful Lamas whom I would initially regard a
bit like highly prized visiting Professors who are experts in their
field, and deserving of our kindness and good manners.. ..then see what
happens.
I foresee a harmonious marriage between Vispassana and Dzogchen in its
most naked form, including the freedom to center ourselves in our heart
of hearts, the source of absolute All Good, the God that has been
liberated from Christianity, whatever one calls that pure transcendent
love that causes us almost to faint, and which is at the heart of all
Religions.
All along I felt that the Tibetan teachings never came close to that
awareness, though they did most certainly show the way to a hitherto
unrealized vivid perception of non-duality. To my mind, the emphasis
was on mental activity, which is of course important, but the aspect of
Love as an activity in our hearts seemed to get bypassed by the
importance placed upon another human being, the Lama as Guru. This is
where for me the whole stack of Tibetan Buddhist cards collapsed. Often
Dharma Centers are the last places on earth that you will find real
open hearts.
Western students need to be more pragmatic and less idealistic about
the Tibetan romantic myth. They need to be able to see the Lamas as
they actually are, often wonderful human beings and sometimes not.
They need to look very carefully. All the adulation and dreaminess are
getting in the way of the object of the exercise, namely their
spiritual maturity. Too often they are willing cohorts in being trapped
in Dharma Centers performing unsuitable practices because there are
perks to be gained, a reward system which leaves them willing to put up
with the idiosyncrasies of their Lama and Sangha because they are able
to meet Lamas they do respect and who make it all worthwhile.
This works both ways and I don't doubt that some Lamas feel they are
trapped within students' expectations. They are also ready to break out
of their mold.
A new hybrid-species of Tibetan Buddhists are springing up.
Tibetan Buddhism must be prepared to adapt to the western culture and
needs of westerners. Like precious seeds collected from a beautiful
country, it is up to the gardeners of the new ground in which they are
to be planted to know how best to help them propagate and flourish. It
is no good the gardeners in the other faraway country obstinately
saying you have to plant them like this, since in our experience that
is how its always been done, because the conditions and climate are
different in the new terrain. It is essential the two groups of
gardeners work together.
If anyone has read this far they must realize that I am passionately
committed to the flourishing of Tibetan spiritual wisdom here in the
West. My devotion to the great Lamas I have been fortunate to meet is
unswerving, and it goes without saying that my list of rotten apples
does not include some excellent Lamas still alive, who as it so happens
aren't very keen to get involved in organizations.
My criticism at times has been deliberately provocative. I have seen
more good than bad. I do not even really blame the Lamas who, though
not exactly rotten but who are past their sell by date, have equally
been misled by western students, including myself in the past.
On our side, it is not fair to put them up on pedestals and then tear
them down when they don't meet with our unrealistic expectations. They
doubtless have had their share of difficulties too.
It is time we all grow. It is time the beautiful seeds of Tibetan
Buddhism grow magnificently in a regenerated form on these foreign
shores.
We need the fresh blood and imagination of younger Lamas and women
teachers who are familiar with western ways, to help fertilize the new
green shoots.
Given the chance, I believe they will want to adapt the system and will
find the means to do so.
Now is that chance.
Voices that have been silenced for too long are joining force. Let's
all say what we really think.
POSTSCRIPT
Since embarking on this article, I have at times questioned my motives,
my judgment, and whether publishing my views can achieve anything. I
have been tempted to abandon it because it would make my life a little
easier, and simplicity is all I crave for nowadays!
I would like to share one last thing with you. A couple of nights ago I
received one of those phone calls with disturbing news that are best
heard in the morning so that you have the whole day to recover from the
shock. A sleepless night lay ahead of me as I knew it would. The timing
could not have been worse. I tossed and turned and turned and tossed,
suffering deep anxiety as well as unpleasant physical sensations, as
worry delved deeper into my brain and all the muscles in my body tensed
up. Then, in the early hours between the borders of fitful dreams, I
was aware that the heart of my heart center was stirring. A place of
absolute love and forgiveness opened up to embrace me. In that presence
of mind, it was very clear to me to continue with the article as I
intuitively knew I should speak the truth as I found it. I also knew
that having reached this heart of hearts I had gone beyond all the
outer form of Tibetan Buddhism including the deities and devotion to
Lamas. It was all very clear and precise as I seemed to step in and out
of this completely peaceful and totally positive space, slipping back
again into the torment of my troubled problem where I tried to
supplicate the Lamas and deities I felt most closely connected with,
but to no avail.
Their powers seemed to be ineffectual, because I was using a mental
process. The peace in my heart was a felt, meaningful awareness. It was
also very clear to me that I would, in the natural course of things,
regain my normal consciousness, and this clarity would be lost. But
that was perfectly all right. Sure enough, I finally fell asleep again,
and upon waking when it was time to get up, the whole experience had
faded. In hindsight, I wondered from a scientific point of view whether
somehow the previous night's distress had simply released endorphins
into my brain, or whether what had taken place was what Christian
mystics call "The peace that passes all understanding," or whether both
were correct explanations.
What remained a certainty was that all the Tibetan prayers,
visualizations, and devotional practices I had been given, and which I
still treasure to a certain extent, in this instance only prevented
access to that innermost part of my heart. I have since wondered if
that is what is ultimately the problem with being overloaded by Tibetan
culture. It is, after all, only that raft to the other shore, and to
cling to it only defeats the object of the exercise.
Lamas certainly emphasize the importance of compassion, but perhaps the
meaning is not being explained adequately. I now believe that the
active heart center is an essential component of wisdom, going hand in
hand with the mental investigation that Tibetan Buddhism offers. But
the Love side so well expressed by Jesus Christ, for example, seems to
be lacking in the approach of the Lamas, (as vice versa does the
brilliant mental enquiry and direct power of insight seem to be missing
from present day Christianity). Both the direct hit of the heart and
penetrating insight of the Mind are equally important.
The teaching method that many traditional Lamas employ to crack the
heart open is to create a drama in the personal life of a student who
then ideally will do the appropriate practice to bring about a clearer
awareness to their experience. But at this stage, the student is
referring all the time to the human Lama as Teacher, and a
claustrophobic Sangha, as the situation where the transformation will
take place. It is such a heavyweight mental and limited heart process
that all access to the freedom of absolute Love in their heart will be
blocked. They really are trapped in the limitations of a system that
cannot possibly work for them if they know they really need to go
beyond it, but cannot find a way forward, in fact, because they are
being held back by the Lama and the Sangha.
I believe that there are many older students who have faithfully
traversed the Tibetan path who are now ready for a new kind of
Teaching. We may be in the minority, but we are certainly around making
ourselves heard.
I know I still need guidance along my often difficult path since I seem
to be among the numbers of curious and possibly reckless pioneers. From
now on, I shall certainly trust my heart above all cultural implants,
and know that in doing so I am closer to lifting the final covering of
that most exquisite gem spoken of so eloquently in Tibetan literature.
The coverings may be carefully placed aside, but the jewel is to be
truly treasured. May it gleam brightly in our hearts and lead us more
closely to it.
"
Geir
"TRAVELLER IN SPACE -- AT ONE WITH THE SECRET OTHER
Chapter 6
At One with the Secret Other
Alongside the absent mother, whose gender-specific role of giving birth
and mothering became symbolically usurped by the system, there existed
also in the sacred space the secret consort or songyum, whose female
sexuality was essential for those lamas wishing to practice Tantric sex
secretly. Whist the word songyum is an honorific title meaning 'wife'
which is applied to the actual wives of those lamas belonging to the
lay tradition, it is also used to mean the 'sexual partner', and means
literally in Tibetan, 'secret mother'. The fact that in the Tibetan
language the words for 'wife' and 'mother' are synonymous, is not, as I
hope to prove, insignificant. The purpose of the secret songyum was, in
the context of the monastic establishment, to provide for male
practitioners the opportunities for sexual activity, without the
disruption of the structures of the system. So while a lama would, to
all intents and purposes, be viewed publicly as a celibate monk, in
reality he was frequently sexually active, but his activities were
highly secret. Even highly prestigious lamas of the status of the
fourteenth-century scholar, Longchenpa, resorted to this method.
'Outwardly wearing the habit, but inwardly a yogin of the Mantrayana,
he took that nun as his secret consort so that nobody knew about
it'.[1] These actions were only achieved, however, with the collusion
of the women involved, and also of those monks who were particularly
close to the tulku or lama, and who would protect him so that his
activities would not be subject to public disclosure.
This shroud of secrecy extended also into the literature where most
references to actual women in biographical accounts of lamas' lives
were omitted, or given metaphorical status. Even in contemporary works
by Tibetans or their followers, the songyum is often described as the
visualized deity of the monk's imagination, the female consort to a
male deity, whose presence had to be conjured in order for the
meditator to realize certain insights pertaining to the symbolic union
of so-called opposites, the male and female. However, this aspect of
the practice was only part of the whole story, for in the actual social
world of the monastery, the lama often acquired the secret services of
a real woman in order, allegedly, to achieve these insights. In my own
experience, as the songyum of a tulku-lama of the monastic Kagyu order,
Kalu Rinpoche, only one other person had knowledge of the relationship,
which lasted for several years, and which took place within the
strictest bounds of secrecy. When the biography of this high lama was
written it included periods of time during which I acted as his
songyum, yet there was no mention whatsoever of my name in the text, or
even references to a metaphorical 'consort'.
The Tibetan system was to all intents and purposes a 'secret society',
as confirmed by the synonym for its religion, Songwa dorje Tegpa
(Tibetan gsang.wa.rdo.rje.theg.pa.), which means the Secret Vajrayana,
or Secret Diamond Vehicle. There is no doubt that secrecy played a
large part in the religious practices of Tibetan Buddhism, and that
this secrecy extended not only to the requirement that only initiates
could attend certain rituals, but also to the fact that certain
activities took place which even other initiates did not know about.
That these activities concentrated on sexual acts is hardly surprising,
because the institution, with its outward appearance of monasticism,
could hardly have survived in the form it did, had the importance of
the woman's position and status within it been openly acknowledged. The
two elements which I believe helped to sustain the secret society of
Tibetan Buddhism were the downgrading of the mother to a 'receptacle'
for holy tulkus; and the hidden status of the songyum in the monastic
system which made use or her. As Mircea Eliade observes in a study of
secret societies, whilst they always 'emphasize the sexual element'
they also 'constitute an attempt by men to establish life independent
of women, a rejection of feminine power and influence'.[2]
iranda Shaw, in her book "Passionate Enlightenment," sets out to
rationalize historically the status and the role of women within
Tantra, by providing examples from ancient texts, many more than a
thousand years old, in which details are given about Tantric women
teachers, and the emphasis on the importance of viewing the female as
an equal partner in sexual rituals. Shaw points out at the beginning
that the secrets of the Tantric tradition in which she was most
interested, i.e. the sexual aspect, 'are counted among its most
esoteric and closely guarded features',[3] yet she describes them in
great detail in her book. This is done in order to support her case
that the women involved in Tantra, a thousand years ago at least, had
equal status with the men, and were at least as responsible as the men
for the propagation and continuation of the tradition. She believes
that her research counteracts the work of many other commentators who
have 'attempt(ed) to project a mood of male domination onto this
movement'.[4] Shaw further criticizes 'Western scholarship and feminism
for their emphasis upon domination and exploitation'[5] in their
reading of the Tantric tradition, suggesting instead that culturally
they could not appreciate the 'highly nuanced balances of
interdependence and autonomy that can characterize gender relations in
other societies'.[6]
Certainly there is much to be said for her observations, because it is
apparent that the importance of the female within this tradition in
ancient times implies a very different cultural ambience, in which it
is possible that the relationships between the sexes were not the same
as they are now, either in the west or the east. One can only conclude
that the female prominence has either been suppressed throughout the
last five hundred years or more, in the Tibetan tradition at least, or
that there has been a degeneration of the teachings in general, which
has resulted in women losing touch with their own powers and knowledge
as Tantric lineage-holders. In her own search for a teacher who would
transmit the details of the practices to her, and help with the
translation of the texts, Shaw names the lama who agreed to cooperate
with her, but fails to name any woman who could substantiate the
teachings from a practice viewpoint, despite saying that 'it is
necessary to obtain access to an oral commentarial tradition that is
secreted in the minds and hearts of living masters (both male and
female)'.[7] Clearly it begs the question, in the absence of actual
commentaries by live women on their practices with actual men within
the tradition, where are the living female masters of the Tantra in the
Tibetan tradition, and if they exist, why must the woman's position,
name and commentary be kept secret? It is obvious from Shaw's work, and
the work of many others, that the actual details of the so-called
'secret' practices are in fact known and have been published many
times. If, therefore, the secrecy is not in the details of the acts
themselves, where is it? My contention is that the secrecy is in the
'hidden' subjectivity of the female, either as a participant in the
acts, or as a symbolic figure whose mystical presence, though necessary
for the continuation of the lineage, was gradually eased out of the
picture, so that live women would not be seen to accede openly in the
human form to the status of 'Buddha'. Shaw herself puts forward this
same view in a way which implies the necessity of the woman's hidden
nature, as if a kind of essential female nature was to be found in her
suppressed or hidden status.
The women of Tantric Buddhism and their divine counterparts are often
called dakinis, translatable as women who dance in space, or women who
revel in the freedom of emptiness. As their name suggests these are not
ladies who leave a heavily beaten path. At times their trail disappears
into thin air where they took flight on their enlightenment adventures,
but sometimes the trail resumes in the dense underbrush of ancient
texts, amidst the tangled vines of Tibetan lineage histories...The
traces of women of Tantric Buddhism are sometimes obscure, enigmatic,
even hidden and disguised, but they are accessible to anyone who
discovers where to look for them.[8]
However, it is not just the organizational context of the system which
is of relevance in the diminishment of the prominent role and purpose
of women's spiritual lives. The power of that particular system lay in
the hands of men who themselves had often been traumatized by
unfortunate childhood experiences which separated them from their
families, and in particular their mothers. Obliged as they were to be
later locked into their role as monks or tulkus, with very little
freedom of will until adulthood, the effect of their removal at an
early age from the maternal environment into the harsh reality of the
masculine world of discipline in the monastery must have produced
conditions where many of them may have harbored secret longings for
their mothers and for the intimacy of the female world. Even in Lacan's
account of the socialization of any young child, he believes that,
'With the entry of the named subject into language and the social
order, the unnamed, repressed desires of the subject are driven
underground'.[9] The kinds of yearnings which these young boys must
have felt would have been doubly taboo in the environment of the
monastery, especially where the monks of a lower status than the tulku
dealt with their passions by viewing women as inferior and unclean.
Despite this, there is some anecdotal evidence to suggest that often
secret meetings and liaisons with their mothers or sisters took place
during childhood and adolescence, with the knowledge of only the
closest disciples.
These kinds of experiences, in which feelings for women were habitually
channeled underground in an openly masculine environment, meant that
the tulku became accustomed to associating women with secrecy, and
later, when opportunities for sexual liaisons arose, whether in the
context of Tantric practices, or quite simply as an expression of their
own longings, they already perceived this kind of liaison as a norm. It
is interesting that Irigaray categorizes all patriarchal cultures in
this way, by pointing out that "Such traditions as these do not
encourage love between women and men. Lovers fall back into a
mother-son relationship, and the man secretly continues to feed off the
woman who is still fertile earth for him'.[10]
>From the patriarchal point of view, however, it is easy to see why this
degree of secrecy developed, and why men colluded, in the name of the
lineage and its power, to protect one another. But what of the women
involved? In the absence of a female lineage of knowledge about Tantra
and woman's role in it, and the difficulty of gaining access to texts
which the monastic institutions often guarded jealously, how was their
loyalty bought and what was in it for them, to bind them to the secrecy
of a sexual relationship with a man of power? Was it simply profound
faith in the lama-as-Buddha which helped them remain silent about their
role, as they went unheeded and unrecognized as the 'dakinis' of high
lamas? Or were the conditions surrounding the liaison, created by the
powerful men at the heart of the system, such that women found it
difficult to do anything other than acquiesce?
In my own experience, despite the absence of a Tibetan cultural
upbringing, there were quite specific motivating factors which helped
to keep me silent over many years. These factors were probably similar
to those which influenced Tibetan women over the centuries, and which
would have provided for them the personal sense of participation in
societal rites which normally excluded women altogether. Firstly, there
is no doubt that the secret role into which an unsuspecting woman was
drawn bestowed a certain amount of personal prestige, in spite of the
fact that there was no public acknowledgement of the woman's position.
Secondly, by participating in intimate activities with someone
considered in her own and the Buddhist community's eyes to be extremely
holy, the woman was able to develop a belief that she too was in some
way 'holy' and that the events surrounding her were karmically
predisposed. Finally, despite the restrictions imposed on her, most
women must have viewed their collusion as a 'test of faith', and an
appropriate opportunity perhaps for deepening their knowledge of the
dharma, and for entering 'the sacred space'.
For Tibetan women, raised and conditioned in a culture whose whole
centre was the Buddhist dharma and the elaborate tulku system of rule
by lamas, the acceptance of these factors and the idea that such an
involvement would create 'good karma' for future lives must have been
utterly compelling. For a western woman like myself, however, as a
convert to Buddhism in adulthood, the motivation and conditions which
supported secrecy could never have been as strong as theirs. Without
such a background, it was difficult not to question the purpose of
secrecy which affected the role of the woman in the whole affair, and
also not to doubt the contemporary value of such practices, outwith
archaic Tibetan society. At the outset, it was abundantly clear that
any secret activities, whether they were to do with initiation rituals,
or personal relationships with lamas, were always bound by vows of
secrecy (damtsik, Tibetan dam.tshig.). These vows were often formally
spoken as part of a ritual, whilst at other times became an unspoken
agreement to secrecy. In my own case it was only when I became involved
with a lama of very high status who was openly living as a monk, that
it was plainly emphasized that any indiscretion in maintaining silence
over our affair might lead to madness, trouble, or even death.
As an example of what might happen, I was told that, in a previous
life, the lama I was involved with had had a mistress who caused him
some trouble, and in order to get rid of her he cast a spell which
caused an illness, later resulting in her death. I was also told that
this woman must have been a powerful demon, and that the lama had only
invited her to participate in sexual acts through compassion, but her
trouble-making had become impossible to bear and posed a threat to the
lama's position. This kind of information was compounded by a more
concrete example of what might befall me. Some time into my own
relationship with this high lama, a young Tibetan woman in her late
teens, who had been taken as a second songyum, unexpectedly died
suddenly from -- it was said -- a heart attack. The fears engendered by
such events ensured that my own view of the situation into which I had
entered became similar to that of someone living under a taboo. For
outsiders to traditions such as this, these fears may seem
unbelievable, but in the claustrophobic atmosphere of a closed group
such as many of these religious sects become, the culture of the
'insider' can quickly predominate. It seemed that within the protecting
environment of secrecy and esoteric ritual, safety would be guaranteed,
whilst any step outwith these boundaries would be tantamount to
breaking a taboo, with all its subsequent ramifications. In her account
of the workings of taboos, Mary Daly astutely points out that,
Women are terrified by phallocentric Taboo and thus are kept back from
Touching the 'object' -- our Selves -- in which the demonic powers (our
own Elemental powers which are disguised by the Possessors) lie hidden.
Women are paralyzed by this injected fear that our powers, if we Touch
them or use them 'unlawfully', that is in ways contrary to the
Lecherous State, will take vengeance by casting a spell over us as
'wrong-doers'. [11]
The imposition of secrecy therefore, in the Tibetan system, when it
occurred solely as a means to protect status, and where it was
reinforced by threats, was a powerful weapon in keeping women from
achieving any kind of integrity in themselves, for it seems clear that
the fundamental and ancient principles of Tantric sex -- the meeting
together of two autonomous individuals as partners for sexual relations
to promote spirituality--was tainted by the power wielded by one
partner over the other. So whilst the lineage system viewed these
activities as promoting the enlightened state of the lineage-holders,
the fate of one of the two main protagonists, the female consort,
remained unrecognized, unspoken and unnamed. Shaw's implication that
this very state of being encapsulates the female experience, and is a
necessary part of a woman practitioner's path to the subjugation of
ego, nonetheless does not take into account the fact that this imposed
hidden role meant that, within the Tibetan monastic system which
dominated the Vajrayana, for other women practitioners, there were no
overt role models and no open system of exchange between women.
The extent of the bounds of secrecy concerning not the nature, but the
context of these kinds of practices, meant that often women were more
knowledgeable about the 'underside' of the system, and of the nature of
the men involved, than most of the men who constituted the
establishment itself. It is only since the death of the lama with whom
I was involved that I have been able to see the elaborate mechanisms
which lay behind his secret relationships, and can now question them in
the light of their transposition to the west, where, I am sure, many
western men would happily adopt such practices, as part of their
'dreams of power'.[12] It is certainly intriguing to know that despite
Kalu Rinpoche's activities with women, and even quite some time after
his death, several Tibetan scholars in the west continued to show
complete ignorance of the hidden life existing within the lama system.
In his study of the history of Tibetan Buddhism, and in particular the
difference between married lamas and celibate monks, Geoffrey Samuel
wrote in 1993, 'Kalu Rinpoche was a monk, however, not a lay yogin, and
most of his career took place in the celibate gompa setting of
Pelpung'.[13] Whilst it is true that Kalu Rinpoche spent many of his
early years in the monastery of Pelpung in Tibet, it is also true that,
after escaping Tibet in 1959 when the Chinese annexed the country, he
spent many more as the abbot of a monastery in India, and during many
of these years was not a monk, yet was afraid of the consequences of
revealing his secret life.
(to be cont'd.)
"
Geir
"STEVEN SEAGAL COMES OUT OF THE BUDDHIST CLOSET
by Charles Carreon
In 2002 Shambhala Sun, the shameful house organ of the Vajradhatu
mafia, published a pathetic softball interview of phony tulku Steven
Seagal. The interviewer in "Steven Seagal Speaks" feeds Seagal one easy
question after another, and never once follows up with a pointed
interrogation. The interviewer points out none of the obvious
contradictions in Seagal's flow of blather. I've read more incisive
interviews of Miss America.
There's a stink of piety and obeisance to the questions, which are
spiked with Trungpa-esque phrases like "finding your seat," which give
it that "insider" flavor. (See Trungpa's poem to Osel Tendzin urging
him to "find his seat." http://www.american-buddha.com/might.tired.htm)
Tendzin famously misfired while enjoying his seat, causing one of his
students, and the student's girlfriend, to die of AIDS. But he had such
a sunny disposition in the face of tragedy, that he is quoted as
saying, "Ladies and gentlemen, the point is not to live as long as
possible." Shambhala Sun has never covered the topic of Tendzin's
murders, imposing a complete blackout on this topic. Although Tendzin
is venerated by the Shambhaloids, who have reinvented him as a teacher
with a "provocative" style, there is no information about him on the
Shambhala Sun website, except for that one quote above, drawn from a
doctor-devotee's essay.
No, instead of real information about their crash-and-burn gurus, the
Shambhala Sun is working to shore up the reputation of Steven Seagal,
who dropped out of the sky like the meteor in David Spade's hilarious
sendup of redneck life, "Joe Dirt."
http://www.jackasscritics.com/movie.php?movie_key=52 .The Seagal
interview is by screenwriter Stanley Weiser ("Wall Street" 1989). His
Seagal interview is so soft-brained , I thought maybe he wrote "The
Karate Kid." It must be the air in Los Angeles; either that, or the
number of gurus that swing through the town.
Whatever the cause, Weiser takes Seagal seriously, as only a fellow
show-business person can. Willing suspension of disbelief is the key
here. Seagal swings from one contradictory statement to another. First
he says he was born with a spiritual bent, and that he's on earth only
to do good. Then he admits he suffered delusions of grandeur when he
was young, and now he understands things better. But his "better"
understanding is the same one he had when he was young -- that he needs
to achieve great spiritual wisdom to benefit human beings. He says he's
meditated a long time, but then admits tantra confuses him. He says he
wouldn't give a bribe to be called a tulku, but admits making large
donations to religious organizations. He claims he keeps his donations
secret, and complains that the press hasn't publicized his generosity.
But I'm getting ahead of myself. Let's let the man speak for himself.
All quotes are accurate, though they have been rearranged in order to
highlight contradictions.
SEAGAL wrote:
Q: There are the recent reports that Penor Rinpoche has recognized you
as a tulku. Is that correct?
A: ... Well, first of all, this a recognition that people have been
telling me about for more than twenty years, people who have known me
in the dharma for a long time, long, long before Penor Rinpoche ever
formalized this.
In other words, "Yes, and it's long overdue."
SEAGAL wrote:
I was born with a serious spiritual consciousness and for many years
studied different paths.
"You see, I've been spiritually advanced from birth, like all tulkus."
SEAGAL wrote:
I was confused in my youth: I thought that if I could spiritually feed
myself to levels of great spiritual attainment then I could do greater
things in the world and it would be good for me and therefore good for
everyone else.
"I used to be impressed with my inborn wisdom-talent. Now I am beyond
any delusions involving self-importance."
SEAGAL wrote:
I am here on this Earth for one thing and that is to see if I can
somehow serve humankind and ease the suffering of others.
"Like all of the Great Ones, my mission is healing."
SEAGAL wrote:
It was something that I had always kept secret, and in fact denied.
"I have tried to hide my light from the world, actively concealing my
divinity."
SEAGAL wrote:
So if I denied it then, why would I bribe people for it now?
"For that matter, why would I now argue in favor of my divinity when I
have in the past denied it?"
SEAGAL wrote:
I have traditionally donated large sums of money to many different
religious organizations ... in secret, but ... the press believes there
is no profit in reporting good deeds.
"You will find no record of my donations anywhere, both because I hate
publicizing good deeds, and because those damned reporters hate me."
SEAGAL wrote:
[P]eople ...said to me that I am an incarnate lama, or tulku.
"You know, it's just something you get used to."
SEAGAL wrote:
I was originally introduced to ... a handful of lamas who had come over
from Tibet [who] were sick and had been tortured. [W]hen the Khampas
were still fighting the Chinese and the CIA was helping them, and
because of the severe repression of the Tibetan people, I wanted to get
involved. ... it is probably best if we don't get into that. ...I
don't want to appear to be a dangerous revolutionary person.
"I supported violent resistance, but that's top secret, and bad for my
image. Nobody understands what it's like to be a secret agent
bodhisattva."
SEAGAL wrote:
These were the years when my interest in Tibetan Buddhism flourished,
but my involvement in any of the spiritual endeavors and training
remained my personal business-not secret as some of the other things
were, but just private.
"I keep secrets, which are dark things I will not talk about. I also
keep things private, about which I am happy to tell you, because I must
use them as evidence of my long-time connection with all things
Tibetan."
SEAGAL wrote:
I very much wanted to be invisible in the dharma community, for a lot
of reasons. Only in the last few months have I come out of the closet.
"You won't be able to verify any of my claims, because like I said, it
was private, because I didn't want the attention. Now I want the
attention."
SEAGAL wrote:
Penor Rinpoche basically recognized me as Kyung-drak Dorje, who was the
reincarnation of the translator Yudra Nyingpo.
"He didn't recognize me as Yudra Nyingpo, but he 'basically' recognized
me as this other guy, who was his reincarnation."
SEAGAL wrote:
>From the time that I started going to India and meditating I did start
getting memories [of past lives] that were fairly unclear.
"Do not try to get any details out of me."
SEAGAL wrote:
Just a few days ago ... a lama ... said to me ... "you have a very good
imprint of many strong past lives, and therefore your realization will
come more swiftly than some people's."
Q: What did he mean by that?
A: I can't really explain it.
"Many lamas kiss my ass. Perhaps they have heard about my secret
donations."
SEAGAL wrote:
Of course, as you practice longer, you will develop some different
siddhis. But none of them really matters.
"For example, I am a huge man who could break your head with my fist.
It's not important."
SEAGAL wrote:
... I have consistently said ... I don't believe it is very important
who I was in my last lives, I think it is important who I am in this
life...
"Let's talk about something I know about, okay?"
SEAGAL wrote:
I am not a highly realized being, I am not a great lama, I don't have
any great practice.
"All of the Great Ones deny being great. I fit the mold."
SEAGAL wrote:
I am a very low person just trying to get to first base and the most
basic practice of a bodhisattva. I am starting humble memorizations,
meditations, and prayers.
"Of course, you already heard about the 27 years, the Tibetans
recognizing me as divine, and my special talents in meditation, so you
know this is just more of my humble schtick."
SEAGAL wrote:
I have been doing serious meditation in my own pitiful way for probably
twenty-seven years.
"Have another helping!"
SEAGAL wrote:
Hopefully [by sitting with Trichen Rinpoche and Penor Rinpoche] I will
absorb some knowledge or wisdom....
"Name dropping really works with Tibetan Buddhists, so bombs away!"
SEAGAL wrote:
Whenever I get too esoteric into the realms of tantric stuff, I get a
little bit lost.
"I just keep it simple. Like Elvis Costello said, 'What's so funny
'bout peace, love and understanding?'"
SEAGAL wrote:
[T]he great obstacle was just a lack of understanding of the way.
"So glad I'm over that obstacle!"
SEAGAL wrote:
[W]hen I was in Japan, people tried to deify me, and the reason I left
there was that deification is truly a death trap.
"A total dead end."
SEAGAL wrote:
That is a reason why I kept my spiritual practice to myself in America.
"Once people realize you're divine, it's all over. They will deify you.
Didn't want to make the same mistakes here, so I just laid low."
SEAGAL wrote:
I don't think deification has been one of my biggest problems in life
because I am lucky enough to have understood a long time ago what
adoration and power really are about.
"I've just learned to take it in stride. I'm huge, I'm handsome, I'm
rich. And on top of it all, I'm divine. The adulation is just part of
the scene."
SEAGAL wrote:
I have given teachings recently. Always on Buddha's teachings.
"If anyone will listen, I need the practice."
SEAGAL wrote:
When I walk into a room some people see a dog, some people see a cow. I
am all of what they see. It is their perception.
"This sort of thing worked for Charlie Manson, why not for me? Just
talk bullshit and let it roll."
SEAGAL wrote:
Buddhanature is in all of us, even in a mangy dog lying in the gutter
with fleas. That dog is Buddha to me.
"I heard that some guy named Naropa saw his guru as a dog. I been
thinkin' a lot about that."
SEAGAL wrote:
The Dalai Lama has said to me to concentrate on bodhicitta.
"He knows I make movies in which I kill lots of people."
SEAGAL wrote:
Q: The Dalai Lama gave you personal instructions about teaching?
A: I wouldn't say he has given me personal instructions about
teaching.
"Just had to ask that, didn't you?"
SEAGAL wrote:
I don't really care what other people think of me or say about me.
"I swear I never think about it."
SEAGAL wrote:
Guru Rinpoche, the Lord Buddha and all the protectors, dakas and
dakinis [give me solace].
"Blondes, bucks, flashy cars, all mean nothing to me. What I want is
all stuff I can imagine in my head just as well without a dime in my
pocket. In fact, I'm about to give away all my stuff, I'm feeling so
solaced about it all."
SEAGAL wrote:
I want to be able to feed the children who are starving and sick in
Tibet.
"But my arms aren't long enough."
SEAGAL wrote:
We are also trying recently to do something for people with eye
problems in Tibet.
"That's me and some other people I can't mention."
SEAGAL wrote:
Acting is an art ... art is the mother of religion; by becoming one
with ourselves and nature, one becomes one with god.
"This is my best shot at profundity. Watch that I don't drown."
SEAGAL wrote:
[A]rt imitates life and its function should be a perfect and accurate
interpretation of the way life really is, in all of its emanations.
"I learned about emanations recently. I like to use the word, but maybe
this isn't the best way."
SEAGAL wrote:
I am not saying that I am a great artist; I am probably a poor artist.
"It is fun to be honest sometimes."
SEAGAL wrote:
I am an artist trying to perfect his craft, but at the same time I do
have feelings about violence.
"I am drowning. Please help me."
SEAGAL wrote:
I was under a contract with Warner Brothers I could not get out of, and
what they wanted me for was the male action films.
"I agreed to kill people on film in exchange for millions, not
realizing I would someday want to pose as a man of peace. By the time
this tulku option opened up, I was stuck."
SEAGAL wrote:
I was offered extraordinary sums of money by other studios to do
different types of movies and Warner Brothers would not let me.
"Yeah, like I was gonna do "Hamlet" for the BBC, and a special with the
Muppets."
SEAGAL wrote:
Now that I'm out of that situation, ... the kinds of films I would
really like to do ... are spiritual in nature and ... will lead people
into contemplation and offer them joy.
"Yeah, I'm going to do a dinosaur special for Discovery Channel."
SEAGAL wrote:
I am grateful for the ability that I have on the screen to bring people
happiness and joy and the ability that I will have in the future to
hopefully bring people into the path of contemplation.
"People have a lot of frustrations, and when my character breaks every
bone in a villain's body by slamming him against every protuberance on
a late-model BMW, then shoves him into the trunk and pushes the Beamer
off a high-rise parking structure, it releases those frustrations, and
that gives people joy. Then they can consider the path of
contemplation, and how they can only kick the shit out of their enemies
if they stay calm, like me."
SEAGAL wrote:
I consider my worst enemies and my worst sufferings to be my greatest
teachers, so there is always another side to these negative forces.
"So people like AmbuFortuna and Odysseus do not bother me at all. In
fact, they are my greatest benefactors, because they show me how far I
have to go."
"