The Collected Works of Chogyam Trungpa: Volume One (24 page)

We were all delighted to welcome Khenpo Gangshar, who seemed happy to be with us, so we lost no time in starting the first study course under his guidance. It was indeed fortunate that he had been able to reach Dütsi Tel without mishap, for soon afterward a great number of refugees came through from Derge, who told us that they had met severe fighting on their journey. Since Sechen lay on the farther side of Derge we felt very anxious about Jamgön Kongtrül and feared that he might be entirely cut off from all further communication. This was the first serious outbreak of hostilities, and the refugees told us that the Communists were now killing many of the defenders’ families; but as far as they knew the monasteries had not been touched. It was clear, however, that the outlook was becoming more threatening every day.

I had to complete my studies and this still meant very hard work; the first course at the seminary was on the Madhyamaka (the middle way) and also on the sacred text of
Hevajra
by the third Gyalwa Karmapa. Besides this there was much else to claim my attention, for I had to direct Surmang, to officiate at rites, as well as to go out to the local people when they asked for help in case of illness or death, or for teaching and advice. In cases of emergency I could be called upon in the middle of the night, so I often got very little sleep.

The news from East Tibet was becoming worse every day. We now heard that the Communists had formed groups of all sorts of people, in fact, anyone that they could enlist. They had indoctrinated these men with their own ideology, and had sent them to act as spies among the villagers and to report on their activities. An order had been sent out that all arms must be handed over, and the groups went round to see that this was carried out. At the beginning the people did not refuse to give up their arms and made little remonstrance; they tried to be cooperative and peaceful. However, the Communists became more and more abusive and a number of people were imprisoned by them and this continued until the Tibetans could stand it no longer. Then for the first time they organized retaliation at Denko, Ba, and Lithang. Their leader at Denko, when ordered to hand over his arms to a Communist official, made pretence of doing so and then suddenly shot the official dead. This was the signal for his followers to attack the town, and many Chinese were killed or taken prisoner. The real conflict now began and the local leader became one of the leaders of the Resistance in Kham, which is the general name for East Tibet.

Refugees were leaving in ever-increasing numbers, particularly from Derge, to seek shelter in Central Tibet close to the Dalai Lama. Up till now there had been little trouble around Surmang which was on the borders of Nyishutsa-nga, though all this district was under the Communist administration of Chinghai; we had all been allowed to move about as we liked, provided that we gave no support to the people of Derge, so I was able to go on working at the seminary with about thirty other students under Khenpo Gangshar, and had more or less completed my studies in hinayana (basic teaching) and mahayana (wider teaching) and had also done a certain amount of work on vajrayana (advanced teaching) though this needed further study.

One day I received a secret message from Jamgön Kongtrül to say that he had escaped from Sechen and was on his way to Lhasa. He would pass near Surmang and he wanted Khenpo Gangshar and myself to join him at a place on the border with as little publicity as possible and accompany him to Central Tibet. We went there and found him together with some of his senior monks and other refugees. However, by the time we reached him, his attitude had slightly changed. Instead of urging me to go with him, he said that we must make our own decision; the work that we were doing at Surmang was very valuable, and it was important to consider whether it should be continued or not. It was very difficult to know what course to follow; besides I knew that if I returned to my work at Surmang I might never see my guru again. We talked the matter over with the other senior lamas and came to the unanimous conclusion that we would do as Jamgön Kongtrül thought best. However, he would not take the whole responsibility; he only gave an indication that he thought Tibet could not go on as in the past and that it would be best for us to plan afresh. He said, “The law of karma cannot change; each one must face his allotted destiny; each one must follow the guidance of his own inner conscience.”

The authorities at Surmang were rather perplexed since they considered that, as my guru, Jamgön Kongtrül should give me specific instructions. Finally, we decided to go on with our work at Surmang; if an emergency should arise, either Jamgön Kongtrül would get in touch with me or I with him. So we said goodbye, while I asked him to promise that we would meet again. He replied that we would meet in one way or another, but again said that “the teacher is within oneself and the Way is also there.” He added, “You may have to face great difficulties without a teacher; everyone must now be prepared to stand on his own feet. Khenpo Gangshar is taking my place and will help you for the time being.” We left Jamgön Kongtrül with great sorrow, and a day later he resumed his journey.

My life had evidently reached a crisis. I was faced with the knowledge that East Tibet no longer existed as a spiritual center and everything looked very dark. More refugees were continually coming from the province of Derge. The Communists had given orders that all our villages and monasteries must be responsible for keeping order, and if we encouraged the refugees, we ourselves would be defying the Chinese government. In spite of this, since they were coming in such large groups with all their goods and cattle, it was absolutely necessary for them to have somewhere to camp; I was able to let them have some camping grounds on our land. They gave me further details about the situation in Derge. The young king’s mother, in her capacity of regent during the king’s minority, had been obliged to take part in the Communist committees until she was informed that she must no longer remain in the province. Then it appeared that the Communists had taken her to China and nothing further was known about her. The young king and his ministers had escaped from the palace and had formed their own Resistance group, being joined by the local militia and later by other guerillas. At first their offensive was very successful. They used to dig trenches across the roads to stop the Chinese lorries, thus enabling the Tibetans to get possession of their arms. The king’s forces were supported by all the local inhabitants and together they were able to occupy most of the Chinese-controlled towns in the west of Derge province. In the east, however, there was no large guerilla force, and the Communists were destroying the monasteries and taking the monks prisoner, accusing them of possessing arms though this was not true, and they also said that the monasteries would be used by the Tibetan Resistance fighters. In the central part of Derge the Communists, after making friendly advances to the senior lamas, either kidnapped or shot them. Palpung was destroyed. At Dzongsar the Communists surrounded the monastery for seven days and prevented the monks from getting water, so that finally they were forced to surrender. Many senior lamas were shot and the remainder of the monks arrested.

Those senior lamas from the various monasteries who had not been immediately shot, were taken to Gönchen. There, poor country folk were brought along and force was used to make them concoct stories of the evil deeds the lamas had committed. Many Tibetans refused to comply and instead, though unarmed, they fell upon the Chinese; they managed to kill some of them and then took their own lives. One Tibetan beggarwoman, when told to shoot the khenpo of the monastery, took the pistol and shot herself instead.

My first endeavor on my return to Surmang was to carry out the last wish of the tenth Trungpa Tulku and to enlarge the seminary. It was already overcrowded since all our monks except the trainees and those specially occupied had joined it, while about 150 monks had come from outside monasteries. The latter had already completed their earlier studies and came as what might be called in England “postgraduates.” Khenpo Gangshar appointed four kyorpöns (tutors) as instructors and also gave me authority to assist in the teaching.

I at once formed a committee mostly of laypeople to raise money and control the finances of the new seminary. Our first step was to increase the annual contribution from the monastic farms, which were managed by a lay bailiff. My bursar and some of the senior lamas, especially the heads of the various departments, objected strongly to our building a seminary largely to benefit monks from a distance and spending capital in this way. So I invited them to a midday meal and told them how important Jamgön Kongtrül, Gyalwa Karmapa, and myself considered the seminary to be in preserving our Buddhist way of life. I added, “Even if the Communists destroy the whole place, the seeds of knowledge in our hearts cannot be destroyed. Even if we build today and our building is torn down tomorrow, I will not regret the spending. It would be a greater regret if we hoarded and what we had hoarded was taken from us without any progress having been made in the spiritual understanding of our people. The tenth Trungpa Tulku planned to enlarge the seminary and I am only fulfilling his wishes.” Since I was his incarnation, love for me overcame the objections of all but a small minority, and work was soon started on the new building.

Our studies at the seminary in the Varshika Vihara at Dütsi Tel continued steadily. Khenpo Gangshar told me that I must take a teacher’s course of training to enable me to be a tutor in metaphysical studies and also to give instruction in meditation. I began to teach, and he examined my pupils to see if they had really understood. Sometimes I had to teach in front of him and though I knew my subject I found this embarrassing; at the beginning I was very nervous, but later on he found less to correct and this gave me confidence.

I was now working with Khenpo Gangshar’s help on the comparative study of the different schools of Buddhism and I found more than adequate material for these researches in our main library. Jamgön Kongtrül had often told me that we must make great efforts to overcome any divisions among the followers of Buddhism and how very important this was at the present time, if we hoped to protect ourselves from the destructive influences of materialism and Communism.

Although the Chinese menace seemed to be getting stronger, we went on with rebuilding our seminary. I called in silversmiths and goldsmiths and indicated the images to be made, and also arranged a meeting with the master artists, craftsmen, and carpenters. The artists mostly came from the Gardri school, the gold-and silversmiths from Mensar. We discussed the designs for the new frescoes and the painting of the ceiling, pillars, and furniture. The particular methods of the Mensar school were used for molding the images which were to be plated with gold.

We had to provide the workers with food and accommodation and once a fortnight every man received a present. Wages were given on completion of the work and often took the form of goods rather than cash; mostly domestic animals were given, sometimes amounting to as much as five hundred beasts, including horses, mules, yaks, and dris. Such things as brocade, wool, furs, leather, or grain were also given in payment. Supervising the builders with my secretary for at least two hours a day kept me away from work in the seminary.

By the New Year 1958 the building was finished and the golden roof of our new assembly hall erected. The monks were so proud and elated about it all that they seemed unaware of a possible Chinese menace; for myself, I could not but feel apprehensive.

The New Year celebration with Khenpo Gangshar was a particularly wonderful occasion. We created a new ceremony for it in the assembly hall of the monastery which was attended by all the monks, and held religious debates and lectures.

Throughout 1957 at Surmang, Chinese officials had been constantly coming and going, spying out the land. Now that the Resistance Party of West Derge had put guards on the border, the Communists suspected us of helping them, for both monasteries were in very strategic positions. About a month after the New Year some twenty men of the Chinese military intelligence came to Dütsi Tel. As had been done previously, we arranged for their accommodation at a nearby monastery. However, on further news coming through of the revolt in West Derge, the Communists insisted on being accommodated in Dütsi Tel. They were not pleased with the rooms we gave them and early one morning they actually came to my private residence in the old fort and billeted themselves in one of the halls. I was there alone with Khenpo Ganghsar when my personal attendant rushed in almost speechless; all he could utter in his panic was “They have invaded us,” and he was hardly able to explain what had happened. Looking through the window, I saw the Chinese dismounting and unsaddling their horses; others had already taken their baggage into the courtyard. My attendant insisted that we must leave while there was still time. I did my best to calm him and told him not to show any fear. My secretary, who lived in a nearby house, then arrived. When we told him what was happening, he said it might not after all mean such complete disaster and advised us to stay where we were.