TIBETAN UPRISING
THE CHINESE MILITARY headquarters in Lhasa had extended an invitation to His Holiness, the supreme lord of victors, his two tutors, and some high-ranking government officials, chief among whom were the current cabinet ministers, to attend a theatrical show at the Chinese army camp on the evening of March 10, 1959, according to the Western calendar — the first day of the second month of the earth-pig year according to the Tibetan calendar. Phuntsok Tashi Taklha, commander of His Holiness’s bodyguards, was summoned to the Chinese military camp and told that only one or two bodyguards could accompany His Holiness and they should be unarmed. The two tutors and the cabinet ministers were to come by themselves, without their staff and attendants. Judging from what they said and all their actions, their deceitful plan was evident. Because of the strength of the Red Chinese forces, His Holiness had little choice but assent to attending the show.
In general the Tibetans hated the conduct of the Chinese, but they particularly disliked this invitation for His Holiness to visit the Chinese camp. It had never happened in the eight years since the Chinese had arrived in Lhasa. Add to this the demand that His Holiness’s bodyguard should be unarmed and that the government officials should come without their attendants, and the fact that it was clear the Chinese were transporting large units of military personnel to Lhasa from different parts of the country at night and amassing their forces at the encampment, it was no surprise the Tibetans’ resentment reached a breaking point.
When the news of His Holiness’s visit to the camp became known, the lamas and monks of the three monasteries and other monastic establishments, monks and lay officials of the government, and several tens of thousands of men and women, each on their own but as if with a single mind, thronged the main gate at the outer wall of the Norbulingka on March 10. They blocked the roads and chanted their request for His Holiness to postpone his visit, as they could not bear the responsibility for His Holiness attending the show.
On his way to the Norbulingka from Lhasa to join His Holiness’s entourage, the cabinet minister Sampho Tsewang Rikzin was struck in the head with a rock and had to turn back when the crowd stoned the car he was riding in because the driver was Chinese. Then the brother of Chamdo Phakpalha, a monk official named Sönam Gyaltsen, who due to his young age often associated with the Chinese officials, came to Norbulingka on this particular day wearing a Chinese dust mask and Chinese clothing. The throng, incensed by his demeanor and suspicious behavior, stopped him at the main gate of the Norbulingka and pelted him with stones, tragically killing him. At that point His Holiness delayed his trip to the military camp.
The crowd marched through the streets of Lhasa chanting “We Tibetans are free and independent!” More than a thousand people from among the general population of the three provinces volunteered to form a militia and stand guard along the inner and outer walls of the Norbulingka, the Potala Palace, the Lhasa Tsuklakhang, and so on using their own supplies of arms and ammunition. An additional regiment of guards drafted from the crowd were stationed at Shapten Khang, the prayer hall in the Norbulingka. Thousands of Lhasa’s women marched through the streets in protest against the Red Chinese, chanting, “Chinese leave Tibet!”
On the eighth day, the Chinese fired shots killing two monks just to the north of the Norbulingka and fired two cannon shots in the direction of the palace. As His Holiness made very clear in his memoirs, the situation grew extremely menacing. I and others like myself who do not have the wisdom to see all things as illusions were filled with fear.
DIVINATIONS AND A DECISION TO FLEE
Due to these circumstances, the cabinet and various government departments repeatedly asked His Holiness to leave for some suitable foreign country where his life would not be in danger. A divination was performed in front of the speaking image of Palden Lhamo, and statements from the Nechung and Gadong oracles were sought, and all unanimously agreed that His Holiness should leave immediately. At the wish of His Holiness, I secretly dispatched Ratö Chubar Rinpoché to Panglung Hermitage to request a prediction from Shukden.265 The Dharma protector’s reply came, “You must leave immediately. If you take a southwesterly route, you have my assurance that neither yourself nor anyone in your retinue will come to any harm. Someone bearing the name Dorjé must travel at the head of the victor’s party, confidently wielding this sword.” He then faced the direction of Ramagang to the southwest, loosed an arrow, and performed a ritual dance, gesturing with the sword.
Since the prophetic statements were in unanimous agreement, at nine o’clock in the evening on the eighth day of the second Tibetan month (March 17), the dignitaries of the Yabshi family, such as the great mother of the victor, set out ahead, after which His Holiness and a small entourage departed. After that, Tutor Kyabjé Ling Rinpoché, myself, cabinet ministers Surkhang Wangchen Gelek, Neshar Thupten Tharpa, and Shenkhawa Gyurmé Sönam Topgyal, and His Holiness’s principal attendant, steward in chief, and ritual assistant took off our normal official attire and dressed as servants and laymen. We went from the Norbulingka all the way to the Ramagang ferry at the Kyichu River to the southwest of Lhasa. After exiting the ferry, we all left together on horses that had already been fitted with harnesses and so on. My attendants Lhabu, Jamyang Tashi, Norbu Chöphel, Namdröl, and Sönam Tenzin, whom I had secretly dispatched to Ramagang on the far side of the Kyichu the previous day, were waiting for us there. Palden, Losang Sherap, and Losang Yeshé came along with me at night.
When we left Norbulingka Palace, we hid in a large truck covered with a tarpaulin and drove out the main gate without any of the guards asking who was inside. Until we finally crossed the small sandy pass above Neu Dzong after reaching the far side of the Kyichu, we could clearly see the lights of the Chinese military encampment that was at Northölingka to the west of Norbulingka. The moon seemed to be shining brighter than usual, and we were afraid that the Chinese would notice us and come pursue us at any moment. Having had the fortune to make it across the Kyichu, we now made our way clinging to the hope that we could escape safely, like huntsman Gönpo Dorjé’s black deer.266 The echoes of discourses that I would thunderously proclaim from a throne, my head held high — empty talk about mind training, telling others how to bring hardship onto the path when I had yet to encounter any hardship myself — faded and deserted me.
When we reached the top of the pass at Neu Dzong, the moon set and it became pitch dark. We relaxed a little when we were past the dangers of the Chinese military camp, but we were traveling in total darkness, and as we did not dare shine any lights, our party became quite dispersed. Some went on ahead while others were left behind. I worried endlessly when my attendant Lhabu got lost, fell behind, and couldn’t catch up to us until nine o’clock the following night, not knowing whether he had fallen into the hands of the Chinese.
As I had only dressed lightly for the walk from the Norbulingka to the river, now because of the icy winds I felt nauseous while riding and vomited, and my liver became upset. When we arrived at the Namgyal Gang Estate of Tsemönling, I put on a rather dirty woolen gown that the estate manager gave me, and after resting briefly and drinking a few cups of boiled water, I felt a little better.
Before Jé Pass, the manager of Takdrak Labrang was waiting for us. He had just bidden farewell to His Holiness and offered him a meal. After taking some food and drink there, we crossed Jé Pass and at sunset arrived at the Bentsa ferry on the sand bank at the conjunction of the Tsangpo and Kyichu rivers. Given the high winds, it was quite difficult for the ferry to cross the river and come back, so we waited for a long time on the near side of the crossing in the middle of a sandstorm that whipped sand at us that stung like arrows. We made it across just before dark and stayed the night on the upper floor of Rawamé Monastery, where we met His Holiness.
When we left the Norbulingka, other than the hope that no harm would come to His Holiness, as he was so very precious and important, and the hope that we would escape with our lives, we gave no thought to carrying any possessions with us. I left carrying nothing more than the robes I was wearing, my book of daily prayers, and a box of sacred relics. My attendants brought nothing more than amulet boxes for protection against weapons, a hand gun, a few bits of food and drink for the immediate future, and the clothes on their backs. It wasn’t just us who left in this way. The cabinet ministers who traveled with us at the time and the many Tibetans who came after us — lay and ordained, high and low — all left behind, like dreams, everything they owned and everyone they held dear. As Jé Sakya Paṇḍita said:
Though the ignorant may amass wealth,
they benefit little from it.
Though a wish-granting cow may have milk,
the calf rarely drinks it.267
One would think that the experience of being forced against our will to leave behind all things and everyone that we hold most dear — friends and relatives, servants and associates, students, teachers, and patrons — would be a vivid demonstration of the reality of impermanence, that everything is like a dream, and induce people to practice more urgently. But the strength of bad habits cultivated over many lifetimes is such that after we arrived in India, the calloused mind that chases after illusions gradually reverted to squandering away this life on empty pursuits for this life alone.
After that we lodged for the night at Dophü Chökhor Monastery in Döl in the Kyidé Shöl area. The following day I visited the shrine there of the protector Gyalchen to seek his divine aid. That evening we arrived in Yoru Dranang at Drathang Monastery, founded by Drapa Ngönshé.268 Tutor Ling Rinpoché and I stayed the night there with cabinet ministers Surkhangwa, Shenkhawa, and Nesharwa. For security reasons, His Holiness went on to the Gyango Gyalsang estate in upper Dranang.
LONG TREK THROUGH THE MOUNTAINS
The following day, traveling by way of the main road, we reached perhaps the most outstanding Nyingma monastery in Central Tibet, Mindröling Monastery in Drachi. This monastery was founded by the great treasure revealer Gyurmé Dorjé, a tantric yogi without rival. The monks of Mindröling upheld pure monastic discipline, beginning with practice of the three foundations,269 and, between the Nyingma school’s traditions of scripture and treasure, focused principally on the oral tradition of the scriptures. They also preserved the practice of pure revelations of the great treasure revealer himself. The monks who peacefully greeted us were wearing the yellow monastic robes and holding religious banners in their hands, but all of us, master and servant alike, were wearing chubas as if combining the taste of nirvana and samsara, and therefore I felt slightly uncomfortable.
The Mindröling regent, Chung Rinpoché, offered us lunch and an excellent reception. After we toured the monastery’s group of sacred chapels, including a very magnificent protector chapel, Tutor Kyabjé Ling Rinpoché and I had a leisurely private meeting with Chung Rinpoché in his quarters on the upper floor. Since we had already been very close with Chung Rinpoché and thought well of him, we told him in detail about the situation in Lhasa, insisting that it was unsafe for him to remain in the monastery and urging him to leave. Chung Rinpoché, however, said that his departure would leave the monastery more vulnerable to harm, and so he had no wish to leave. There was nothing we could do.
We left Mindröling late in the afternoon and spent the night at the Möndro estate in the upper region of the southern district. From there we took an incredibly long path over Duchi Pass to reach Chenyé Monastery in Upper Chongyé. We made offerings and prayed before their beautiful central image of the Medicine Buddha Ratnacandra. The next morning we went to Riwo Dechen Monastery in Chongyé.
We had planned to stay the night there, as His Holiness and his entourage had arrived at the monastery a day ahead of us and had planned to spend an extra day there to rest and recuperate. However, the Red Chinese had opened fire with heavy artillery in Lhasa on the tenth of the Tibetan month, and the Norbulingka, the Potala Palace, and areas all over Lhasa had been heavily damaged, and many were lives lost. The Tibetan army was unable to hold their positions, so civilians both lay and ordained had no other choice but to run for their lives, fleeing to outlying regions in any way they could. Upon hearing of the grave situation in Lhasa, fearing for His Holiness’s safety, the party set out again immediately.
Traveling by way of Dönkar Pass in Upper Chongyé, they went to Thösam Dargyé Ling Monastery in the Upper Chödegong of Yarlung. We also pushed on to reach there. All the horses and people in our group were absolutely exhausted when we finally arrived, having just made the two-day journey from Chenyé in a single day. Nevertheless we rested comfortably, as if in our own homes, thanks to the great hospitality of Ling Labrang, who was the proprietor of that monastery.
The next day, traveling by way of the great pass called Yartö Drakla that skirts Mount Yarlha Shampo, we stayed in a little village called Echudogyang, where both the people and the place were utterly impoverished. The local inhabitants’ subsistence must have been driven by the results of heavy negative acts committed in previous lives. I could hardly bear to be there for even one day.
The following day after crossing Shopo Tak Pass, we arrived at Kharteng Monastery in west Shopo, which was run by Dedruk Labrang, and on the seventeenth His Holiness reached the fort of Lhuntsé Dzong in Nyal. I attended a brief auspicious ceremony where the entire entourage gathered in the great hall of the fort and His Holiness declared a provisional government for Tibet. Tutor Ling Rinpoché offered an explanation of the ritual mandala, and I presented the eight auspicious symbols and substances, with verses describing their significance. As soon as the ceremony ended, I went with His Holiness to Dreulha Monastery, where he stayed for the night.
Then, traveling in stages, we went to Jora Monastery in Nyal and, after crossing Karpo Pass, Göntsé Monastery in Tsona. The day we reached Tsona, when we were in a curve of the hill at Gorpola, a plane flew over us. Although we could not tell which country it was from, it worried us greatly as we suspected that we were being pursued by the Chinese.
At Tsona we rejoined Dagyab Chetsang Hothokthu, his attendants, and Khenchung Tara, who had left the capital after us. According to Tara’s report, from 2:00 a.m. on the tenth of the Tibetan month until 6:00 the following evening, the Norbulingka had been under continuous artillery fire, and given the thousands of rounds that were fired, the outer and inner precincts of the Norbulingka and His Holiness’s personal residence within the innermost precinct of the palace were severely damaged. The Potala Palace had also sustained damage from cannon fire, and the medical college Drophen Rikché Ling on the Chakpori hill was totally destroyed. We were apprised of the grave events, the details of which His Holiness has written about in his memoirs.270
Traveling by way of Pö Pass from Tsona, we arrived in a place called Mangma. As I have previously stated, when traversing such high passes we were whipped by cold winds and tormented by snows. The path down from Pö Pass was quite difficult to traverse that day, because it was precipitous, long, and muddy, so I went down riding on a yak borrowed from a local dairy farm. At Mangma, His Holiness was not feeling well, so we stopped there for the day. There, a large group of people from Chatreng who had come to escort His Holiness and myself were ready to turn back, and I gave protective talismans.
CROSSING INTO INDIA
On the twenty-second we arrived at the Indian border town of Chudangmo, where we were received by representatives of the Indian government and provided with military bodyguards. We were given accommodation in tents. At this point, having escaped the threat of Chinese attack, my mind was released from the tight bondage of the noose of childish self-cherishing.
We set off on the long journey to the temple of Gongsum Chöten, which resembled the Boudhanath stupa in Nepal, spending nights along the way in the villages of Sharti, Lungla, and Thonglek. On the twenty-eighth, His Holiness arrived at the monastery in Tawang, and Tutor Ling Rinpoché and I stayed for a few days in a house in the village below the monastery, where an old Dharma friend, Tsona Göntsé Rinpoché, came to meet us with provisions of food. After leaving Tawang, we passed through the villages of Jang and Sengé Dzong and then crossed Sera Pass and went through a town called Dum in Dirang and a village called Rawang. On the fourth of the third Tibetan month, we reached Bomdila, where we stayed in municipal committee houses organized by the Indian government. The Indian government representative in charge of Bomdila town invited His Holiness and the entourage to a tea reception, to which I also went.
Traveling from Tsona to this place, we had suffered a great deal of hardship, for the journey had taken us on treacherous paths over high passes, through deep gorges, and through thick jungle, and when riding, I had to mount and dismount whatever creature bore me. But despite the physical difficulties and exhaustion, I inwardly felt a continuous sense of joy and relief that enabled me to tolerate the hardships and difficulties with relative ease. Here I was able to tolerate hardship in a way that I had never experienced before in my religious practice.
After three days in Bomdila, a group that included Tutor Ling Rinpoché and myself set out in advance in a jeep provided by the Indian government. We drove down very steep and dangerous roads through a village called Chaku and a town called Takma, which is part of Khelong, and eventually arrived in Phuthel on the tenth. There we had breakfast with His Holiness in the government guesthouse and traveled on to Tezpur in Shillong, where we stayed in a hilltop guesthouse. The deputy prime minister Dekharwa, the deputy cabinet minister Yuthokpa, the royal secretary to the maharaja of Sikkim, and the Indian political officer in Sikkim had come from Kalimpong to welcome His Holiness.
After lunch we left for the train station in Tezpur and boarded a special train sent by the Indian government to take His Holiness and his entourage to Siliguri, where we arrived at 11:00 on the morning of the eleventh. There on a green lawn His Holiness was greeted by a large crowd, including local officials and dignitaries such as the maharaja of Sikkim, Tibetans from Kalimpong and Darjeeling, and many Indians. Thousands of people had gathered there like bumblebees in a lotus field, buzzing with words of sympathy for Tibet and to cheer His Holiness.
Then, progressing through Varanasi, Lucknow, Dehradun, and so on, we arrived in Mussoorie on April 20, which was the thirteenth of the third Tibetan month. His Holiness and the members of the entourage stayed at Birla House, as arranged by the government of India. Within a few days, the prime minister of India, Pandit Nehru, came to call on His Holiness. We tutors, the cabinet minister, and other officials greeted him and saw him off on his departure.
SUBJECTS OF CHINESE PROPAGANDA
After His Holiness’s departure from Lhasa, the Chinese Communists branded the chief members of the cabinet, me in particular, as “reactionary leaders.” I was publicly accused of fomenting rebellion by plotting with Chushi Gangdruk guerillas. They said that His Holiness had been abducted against his will and that we had secretly plotted with foreign imperialist powers. They also publicly denounced me, saying that the public had been deceived by the pretense of religion, and made up an endless list of fabricated stories against me, claiming that I had engaged in sexual assault of women and so on. They even put on a play about all this in Lhasa and plastered a portrait of me as a monster with many heads and hands in the public marketplace. Portrayals of me as a deadly toxin were broadcast repeatedly on the radio, as I later learned from people who arrived from Lhasa.
As the Wheel of Sharp Weapons Mind Training (verse 17) says:
When others assail me with exaggeration or denigration,
it is the weapon of my own evil deeds turned upon me
for disparaging the holy beings.
From now on I will not malign others with scathing words.
Without question, it was my own prior negative actions that brought these results. However, the immediate reasons were as follows. In the past I had often taught and spread the Dharma all over Tibet and had religious connections with many influential and ordinary people from all the three provinces. So the Communist Chinese had appointed me principal of the Lhasa middle school in Tibet, to the Preparatory Committee for the Autonomous Region of Tibet, and as director of the Bureau of Religious Affairs, hoping that I would be their hook to win favor with the people. Because I would not enact their policies, the Red Chinese bore an intense hatred of me. I have not the slightest doubt that had I stayed behind in Tibet under Communist rule, I would have undergone all sorts of terrible tortures. By the grace of the Three Jewels and the protectors, and through the kindness of His Holiness, our great refuge and protector, who has held me with the rope of his compassion, I was able to come to India and enjoy the freedom to speak and act as I wish.
Although I am free from the terror of the Red Chinese for the time being, there is no means by which I can turn back the emissary of the south — the one who wields a club and whose might devours the three worlds271 — whose appointed hour I cannot know. It is true I control whether I go to the unbearable prison of lower rebirths, but when I examine the present state of my own obstinate habits of body, speech, and mind, the future doesn’t look promising.