I’m now two weeks into my first trip to Tibet in three years. Many things are the same, but many are different. Last time I was in this region of Kham, I remember being struck by several huge mani mantras inscribed across entire hillsides, often in strategic locations above villages or near river confluences. In the intervening three years, these mantras have notably increased in both size and frequency. On the road from Dartsedo to Karndzé it seemed like every village had at least one of these epic endeavors. It is hard to escape the idea that the region’s Tibetans are making a strong statement about the identity of their land.
Of course, this is not the first time that Tibetans have used the construction of religious monuments to claim or alter the identity of their land. If we are to believe Tibetan historical accounts, the importation of Buddhism was only made possible by the construction of twelve temples by the sixth century king Songtsen Gampo. The construction of these temples suppressed a malevolent demoness who had been obstructing Buddhism. By building the temples, the king suppressed the opposing forces and established Tibet as a Buddhist nation.
Nor is such activity limited to the Tibetan Imperium. On a smaller scale, it remains common for local Tibetan communities to deal with malevolent spirits by erecting prayer flags or a small chörten. As with Songtsen Gampo’s temples, these constructions effectively overcome whatever was polluting or obstructing the area, restoring its proper Buddhist identity.
It is not surprising, after the events of the last half century, that Tibetans here would feel a need to re-assert the Buddhist (and thereby Tibetan) nature of their land. Nor, I suppose, should it be surprising that the pace of that activity has increased since 2008 (in addition to the new hillside manis, I saw three large chörtens under construction between Dartsedo and Karndzé as well as numerous new prayer flag arrays and smaller chörtens). Nevertheless, these constructions, and the sentiments they represent, seem worth noting for those of us who try to keep our fingers on Tibet’s pulse.
As I was leaving Kham, driving from Karndzé to Dartsedo, I noticed a monument I did not see on the way up. It was laid out across a hillside and made out of white stones, just like the large mani mantras discussed above. It was, however, written in Chinese and located directly below a large police station. While I was unable to get a picture, and only had a few seconds to try and read it, I’m pretty confident the first phrase said something along the lines of ‘work hard for a good country’. Apparently, at least some elements in the Chinese government have grasped the importance of marking the landscape in this way, and have decided to get in on the act!
Sorry about the poor photos, most were taken from moving vehicles!
- Germano, David. “Remembering the Dis-membered Body of Tibet” in Goldstein, Melvyn C., and Matthew T. Kapstein, eds. Buddhism in Contemporary Tibet: Religious Revival and Cultural Identity. 1st ed. University of California Press, 1998.
- Mumford, Stan Royal. Himalayan Dialogue: Tibetan Lamas and Gurung Shamans in Nepal. Madison: University of Wisconsin Press, 1989.
4 Replies to “Claiming the Land”
Do you recall the flat stone that you and Eliza brought back to me from Tibet? It has an inscription on it. I’m wondering if it has the same sort of mantra that you are seeing on the hillsides.
Yup, same mantra. It’s the one seen on 90% of carved stones, hillsides and anywhere else, really.
Fascinating, Geoff. It’s curious but I suppose not surprising that the Chinese seem to have adopted the same way to lay claim to land and place. I saw a few of the large mantras on hill sides last year, but nothing in Chinese (that I noticed).