BUDDHISM, SHAMANISM, AND THANGKA PAINTINGS Claudia Müller-Ebeling and Christian Rätsch

UNLIKE BUDDHISM, shamanism is not a codified religion or belief system. It is an archaic technique to enter different states of consciousness in order to help and heal people. Techniques to enter trance may involve the use of psychoactive plants, or entheogens. This entrance to the “other world”—or, according to a shamanic worldview, to the “three worlds”—has mostly been shut down, destroyed, or demonized by established religions and political systems on a worldwide basis.

By nature, shamanism involves individuals contacting mystical realms. By means of trance, shamanism may lead talented individuals to a mystical union with the center of creation; in Western terms, to a unio mystica. No established religious hierarchy is interested in promoting access to the spiritual realm on an individual level. On the contrary, to have the monopoly over “communication to god” is the prevailing intrinsic motivation of such hierarchies. Every religion, even peaceful Buddhism, has made a great effort to suppress shamanism or any encounter with psychedelics. Of course, there are exceptions—which the biographies of Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, Ram Dass, and others demonstrate.

In their daily lives, shamans in Nepal—both men and women—are ordinary people. They work in the fields, cook and take care of their children; they are manual workers or craftsmen; they earn their living in the army or in factories; they are employees or engaged in their own small businesses. Yet these are people contacted by spirits or gods, and called on to help their communities with the power of healing. Only after his or her ability to enter trance states becomes obvious to the public does the prospective shaman learn and cultivate this natural gift. Following initiation experiences that occur mostly in early childhood, the shamans undergo an apprenticeship under the guidance of an experienced shaman. They call him or her guru or guruama. Only after successfully completing the teachings with their guru are they installed in public, to begin their duty as healers.

In Nepalese shamanism, accessing altered states by means of entheogens is still being practiced. Shamans (Nepalese: Jhankri) use a large variety of poisonous and mind-altering plants; some have yet to be identified by Western botanists. Some are well known, like Papaver somniferum, Atropa belladonna, or Peganum harmala; their use originated with shamans. Several are difficult to use and even dangerous, such as Aconitum spp. or Datura spp. Moreover, what is most spectacular and hitherto little known is the evidence that shamans use mushrooms, such as Amanita muscaria and different kinds of psilocybes (the latter as inhaled powders). During our research in Nepal—over an eighteen-year period—we recorded eighty-eight psychoactive plants (“traveling plants,” as the shamans call them). When shamans are asked how many entheogens they know and use, they mention the idealized number of 108 plants and mushrooms, to be used as offerings, incense (dhoopas), remedies, or mind-altering agents.

The importance of these entheogens to shamans in Nepal has long been unrecognized by Western scholars; no previous study on Nepalese shamanism mentions the use of mind-altering plants. Physicians and psychiatrists, even ethnologists who did fieldwork among the Tamang or other tribes of Nepal, did not report the shamanic, medicinal, and recreational (and obvious) use of cannabis in the region. They especially overlooked the appreciation of cannabis by the traditional shamans.

Why is that? Factors include Western observers’ lack of knowledge about local botanicals, their inability to recognize cultural uses, and their bias against psychedelics. Also, in the midst of dramatic shamanic healing sessions it is difficult to identify the plants used for smudging and smoking.

Since Mircea Eliade’s well-known book Archaic Techniques of Ecstasy, was first published in 1951, many anthropologists believe that psychedelic shamanism is a kind of degeneration. His opinion was that a “true” shaman has a natural ability to enter the trance states without using entheogens. However, anthropological and ethnobotanical studies of the last decades, published in numerous books, show that, in terms of actual practice, Eliade may be wrong. These publications focus mainly on shamanism in Central and South America.

In general, Nepali shamans do not use entheogens for daily therapy. Only in special cases will a jhankri administer entheogens to a patient. They may prescribe datura—a plant sacred to Shiva—to people who are mentally confused or disturbed as a kind of homeopathic medication, using a preparation with high pharmacological action. (The concept of homeopathy is to treat an illness with something that causes the same symptoms, a practice found in many indigenous cultures.) Jhankris use entheogens to activate and enhance their own healing power. They also use them in precarious moments, such as when they struggle to find out why someone is seriously ill, or to restore a patient’s life.

Jhankris seek a quiet place in nature where they can be alone and are able to connect with the magical properties of animals and plants. This kind of meditation in nature is called gupha. In these situations they may use psychoactive plants, whether ingested, smoked, or used as dhoopas, to regain their healing power, or shakti. With the help of mind-altering substances they are able to leave the path of daily routine and travel through the three worlds where they get insights and find hidden sources, remedies, or other tools for healing.

The shamans in Nepal see entheogens as plant teachers, just as the ayahuas-queros in Amazonia do. They “consult” them, to cross the boundaries from their individual human limitations to the realms of animals, plants, and even minerals. This may sound fantastic, but it means nothing more than to experience being actively part of the whole circle of life—the core of our existence. To heal means to bring isolated parts back into balance. Only those who have experienced the dissolving of the boundary between life and death and between different forms of life are able to heal. The psychedelic experience enables one to cross these unknown boundaries as needed. Shamans also smoke ganja (cannabis) for relaxation after exhausting chintas (healing sessions) which may take, in serious cases, a couple of nights in a row.

The thangka is at the heart of the encounter between Buddhism and psychedelic plants. Thangkas are paintings of tempera, gold, silver, and pigments derived from minerals such as lapis lazuli (blue), coral (red), or malachite (green). They are painted on canvas and sewn into brocade borders, so that they can easily be rolled and stored, and are traditionally exposed only on special occasions or during rituals.

Thangkas are paintings that represent the iconography of Buddhism, and are considered tools for meditation. Both the production and contemplation of a thangka help one to visualize the universal principles of life, represented in Buddhist (and Hindu) deities, bodhisattvas, and other beings. Looking deeply, we see that thangkas are one of the few remaining vestiges of shamanism in Buddhism.

However, many Buddhists do not want to acknowledge the shamanic origin of thangka painting, nor are they inclined to accept that some of their rituals and ritual objects were originally shamanic.

A widespread misconception places the origin of the iconography of shamanic Buddhism in Tibet—a conviction reflected in the many exhibitions of thangkas in museums throughout the world as well as in books. Visitors to the bookshops or the numerous thangka galleries of Kathmandu will have the same impression. Collections are described as “Tibetan Thangka Treasures” or “Thangkas from Tibet.” Eighty percent of books on the culture of the Himalayas emphasize Tibetan thangkas in the context of Tibetan Buddhism. Only twenty percent are dedicated to Nepalese cultures and even less to specific ethnic groups in Nepal such as the Newari, Tamang, Kirati, or Gurung people.

Given the historical evidence, this well-established idea that thangkas are Tibetan in origin proves to be incorrect. This revision is called for by early sources on the activities of Nepalese thangka painter Anige (1245-1306). He was invited to Tibet by his sponsor Phagpa (1235-1280), with the task of generating architectural projects for the Mongol leader Kublai Khan. The renowned thangka of the Green Tara from the Cleveland Museum of Art is attributed to Anige, and there is also reference to Anige having taught Tibetans the art of thangka-painting. Many thangkas from the thirteenth century bear traces of his stylistic impact. The early thangkas differed a great deal from what is typically known as Tibetan, in style as well as content. A close look reveals Hindu or Hindu-Buddhist iconography. Anyone familiar with the typical styles of the ethnic groups such as the Newari or Tamang will see traces of these styles in the many so-called Tibetan thangkas sold in Kathmandu or featured in exhibition catalogues. Moreover, every possible ethnic style-mixture is evident, such as works of a Tibetan thangka painter, painted in Newari style, imitating Tibetan style.

There is little question that the shamans of Nepal invented the art of thangka painting. Even today, there are many shamans who paint thangkas. The oldest known thangka specimens clearly feature the typical Newari style of thangka painting. This is also the case in the well-known Green Tara dated to the last third of the thirteenth century, as well as in many other specimens mentioned in the exhibition catalogue of early Tibetan thangka-painting Sacred Visions: Early Paintings from Central Tibet (Kossak and Casey Singer, 1998). If one is familiar with the Newari features of thangka painting one clearly recognizes these in the many motifs that predominate in the Kathmandu valley to the present day.

Traditionally reserved for apprentice shamans, thangkas depict the worlds that shamans enter. Most thangkas are divided into three parts, presenting the topography of shamanic journeys through the three worlds. In the center, the main figure is depicted—Buddhas or bodhisattvas, or the center of a mandala. This is the middle-world, the world of all existent beings. This is also the present moment. It is from here that shamans communicate with the principles of life, represented by a pantheon of deities.

The iconography of thangka paintings is incredibly rich and complex, and further reveals their Nepalese origins. For example, in the representation of the Green Tara attributed to Anige, one sees the so-called sirpech—a feature we also find in the architecture of the Sundhoka palace in Bhaktapur, one of the three royal cities of the Kathmandu valley. It is a bronze arch, laced with gold, decorating the entrance to the courtyard of the palace. In the top center we see the mythical Garuda-bird, represented with a snake in his beak. Garuda is the vehicle of the Hindu god Vishnu. Garuda is also the force that the shamans of the tribes (classified by ethnically different language groups) of Nepal face and visualize to the north, in ritual—their backs being protected by Rahula, the god of the south, and his wall of flames. To their left they visualize Kali and to their right, Shiva—their main god who existed long before Hinduism. Shiva’s archetypal features were later molded into the form of the god of ecstasy and asceticism.

The snake is a holy animal in Nepal. Nagaraj and Nagarani are the royal couple of cobras and water snakes, representing fertility of water and earth. Without them, no soil could be cultivated in Nepal; snakes guarantee rain and growth of crops. However, snakes can also be dangerous to humankind. Garuda is the only creature that is able to cope with their poison. The mythical bird Garuda, with the ability to walk the earth and fly to the skies, combines the three worlds: under, middle, and upper-world. He helps the shaman to travel from the underworld to the upper-world, passing through the middle-world, which is the realm of all existing beings in our world. To be able to do that, even in very dangerous circumstances, and to defeat any deadly poison, shamans need the assistance of Garuda. As depicted on the sirpech, both ends of the snake lead into ornamental volutes and enter on both sides into a mouth of the mythical creature Makara.

Makara owes its existence to the garwal—a crocodile that still lives in some rivers of northern India. The crocodile is also important in the shamanic world. The crocodile is one of four animals that support the shield of the world—seen as a tortoise—in an endless ocean, which is also, according to shamanic knowledge, the cradle of life.

In 1999, while doing our research on shamanism in Nepal, we discussed a seventeenth-century thangka now in Basel with two contemporary shamans, Indra Doj Gurung and Maile Lama. The painting represents Srimati Devi (Tibetan: Palgyi Lhamo) (Gerd-Wolfgang Essen and Tsering Tashi Thingo: Die Götter des Himalaya, 1989). We were surprised by the shamanic interpretation of this painting, which may appear to be a rather cruel depiction to Westerners. It shows a divine being riding on a mule across a lake filled with blood and parts of human bodies. The jhankri called it a healing thangka and emphasized its shamanic content.

They identified the divinity as Bhairung—not a name but an invocation, which shamans use to identify the wrathful aspects of Shiva and Parvati, thus of Bhairab and Kali, represented as one person (in Sanskrit, Ardhanarishvara). “This divinity rides through the middle-world,” the shamans Indra Doj Gurung and Maile Lama told us. “This world is ruled by the destructive energies of mankind. Bhairab/Kali uses all weapons to fight these greedy and needy energies. He/she destroys what is out of balance in order to restore a peaceful world.”

In thangkas, the lower part of the painting often depicts a lake or area of minerals. This is the underworld, the past, where the source of an illness is hidden. Jhankris say that this is the most dangerous world to travel to, but also the one they like most. “It is a fluorescent world of shiny minerals, of water and animals which look like plants.” There is no ocean in the Himalayas, only rivers, streams, and lakes. But shamans describe what an underwater world looks like. In the underworld they encounter dangerous forces, demons, who have abducted parts of the soul of an ill person. Shamans do not destroy these forces since they are part of the world. They deal with them to establish a balance. For that reason they have to be good psychologists; they have to know the characteristics of the force that holds pieces of the health of their patient in hand. The better they know the demon, the better they can convince it to release the soul.

The sky with the sun, moon and stars, the birds of prey, the mythical Garuda, and deities, represent the upper world. This is depicted in the upper part of many thangkas. The upper world represents the future. It is to this world that the shamans must travel, often with the use of psychoactive plant preparations, to find solutions in life and death cases. It is often reported that a shaman will have died during his or her first experience of initiation. Appearing to the outer-world as dead, seriously ill, or mentally disturbed, they were in fact crossing the borders between life and death, present, past, and future—traveling the three worlds for the sake of others. The story behind Buddhist thangka art is primarily a shamanic one—a fact which has remained hidden, until now.