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 PART
3
Tibetan Buddhism
the Western
way
By Julian Gearing
Part 1: Tibet and the Olympic factor
Part 2: The tale of two Karmapas
KATHMANDU - If you are a Buddhist you
may want to try this, but you would be wise to exercise
a degree of caution. Jump from an aircraft at 12,000
feet and adopt the Lotus position. Make sure you have a
parachute on. Be aware, though, that when you sit in
this meditation pose, you fall much faster than normal
spread-eagled skydivers.
Lama Ole Nydahl had a
parachute on when he decided to jump and "sit" - a
position suggested to him by his parachuting instructor.
The Danish Buddhist guru is no stranger to dropping from
the sky. This was his 88th jump. But caught up in the
"wonderful experience", he failed to take full account
of the increased velocity of plummeting to Earth
"Buddha-like".
Lama Ole, as he is known, teaches
his students of Diamond Way Buddhism how to prepare for
death. On this sunny day in July in Germany he narrowly
avoided having to put his teachings of "conscious dying"
into practice. Realizing that he was about to hit the
ground, he pulled his emergency ripcord. His 'chute
partially slowed his descent as his body smashed on to a
concrete landing site.
 From his hospital bed, the broken and
bruised 63-year-old Buddhism teacher explained that
people could obviously imagine how attractive the idea
of sitting during free-fall parachuting sounds to a
Buddhist lama. But he admitted the accident was his own
fault. He was "due for some essential teachings on
sickness and pain", he said, and that he hoped this
would increase his "maturity as a teacher". Now he is up
walking and teaching again.
If you mention the
name Lama Ole to a follower of the Tibetan Karma Kagyu
Buddhist school, chances are you will get either of two
responses - a smile or a grimace. The response depends
on whose "side" the follower is on. A major split has
developed in this school, one of the four main schools
of Tibetan Buddhism, possibly the most popular and
accessible school in the West. Crucial to the school is
the lineage holder, the high master. Tibetans believe in
reincarnation and that high lamas on the brink of
enlightenment reincarnate, coming back again and again
to help others on the path to nirvana. Just like the
Dalai Lama, who is said to have come back again and
again, so with the head of the Karma Kagyu school, the
Karmapa.
There was only one 16th Karmapa, who
died in 1981. Now the problem is that there are two 17th
Karmapas. Lama Ole supports Karmapa Thaye Dorje,
recognized by Shamar Rinpoche, a high lama in the Karma
Kagyu school. Thaye Dorje is not the lama who made the
headlines in January 2000 with his dramatic escape from
Tibet and his arrival on the Dalai Lama's doorstep in
Dharamsala in India. That's Karmapa Urgyen Trinley, who
was recognized by Tai Situ Rinpoche, another high lama.
The Dalai Lama endorsed Karmapa Urgyen Trinley's
recognition.
If you are confused, it's
understandable. The fact that there are two separate
groups of Tibetan lamas who have recognized and support
two separate Karmapas has resulted in violent clashes,
court cases and distinctly un-Buddhist behavior.
But if the Tibetans are split, so are the
school's Western followers. Each side bad-mouths the
other. Critics say Karmapa Urgyen Trinley was
fraudulently recognized, claiming a letter said to have
been written by the 16th Karmapa pointing to where he
would be reborn was a fake. They claim the lama is not
the "real" Karmapa. And they are angry with the Dalai
Lama, who belongs to the Gelukpa school, interfering by
publicly stating his acceptance of the boy. Critics on
the other side dispute the recognition of Karmapa Thaye
Dorje and question why Shamar, who recognized him,
challenged his competitors, then backed down, then
appeared to have changed his mind and challenged again.
It is virtually impossible as a follower of the
Karma Kagyu school to tiptoe along the knife-edge that
divides followers of the two Karmapas. You either
believe in one or you believe in the other. Period.
Buddhist centers have split or joined one side or the
other. In the West, the split has not happened without
heartache.
Before one understands how traumatic
this competition for the Karmapa throne has become for
Western followers, the controversy has to be understood
against the backdrop of struggle and transition suffered
by the Tibetans. After the Dalai Lama and more than
100,000 Tibetans fled Chinese oppression in their
homeland in 1959, they tried to pick up their lives in
exile, with their headquarters now in Dharamsala. This
has proved to be largely a success story, in terms of
civil administration, public profile and preservation of
their culture and religion.
Buddhism forms the
core of Tibetan society and the main Buddhist schools of
Gelukpa, Karma Kagyu, Nyingma and Sakya have done well
in re-establishing themselves in the Indian subcontinent
and in centers around the world. While the record of the
high lamas who run these schools has not been without
blemish - a few sex and drug scandals blotting their
image - the transition from the largely feudal confines
of old Tibet to an acceptance by the wider world is
ongoing and bearing fruit.
Tibetan Buddhism's
growing "popularity" in the West has a lot to do with
the 1989 Nobel Peace Prize winner, the Dalai Lama, and
everybody from Hollywood actor Richard Gere to the
Beastie Boys pop group jumping on the bandwagon. The
"Tibet cause" is "in" and everything from prayer wheels
to stupas is "cool".
But when the Tibetan lamas
were thrown into exile they brought with them not only
their tried and tested tools to pursue enlightenment,
they also brought monastic politics, cultural practices
and struggles for power that do not always translate
well under the scrutiny of the modern world.
Buddhist monasteries were set up by the exiled
lamas to replicate old Tibet. In this they have been
largely successful. Monasteries for Tibetan monks have
done well. But their track record of interfacing with
the outside world has been mixed. Call it a work in
progress. While many of the top lamas have worked hard
to maintain their lineage, their teachings and tried to
help foreigners interested in Buddhism, not everything
has worked well in translation.
What has helped
is the work of a few dedicated Westerners. American
Robert Thurman, now recognized as one of the world's
leading Buddhist scholars and a champion of the Dalai
Lama, spent years in monastic isolation to come out and
bring the wisdom to the West. Tenzin Palmo, aka Diane
Perry, swapped proposals of marriage in the East End of
London for 12 years meditating in caves in the
Himalayas, and is now bringing women's liberation to
cloistered nuns. Lama Ole and his wife Hannah swapped
drugs on the hippie trail to Kathmandu for a nomadic
life of Buddhist teaching to tens of thousands of people
around the world.
The help of these Westerners
is needed, largely because of the linguistic and
cultural barriers. For typical unenlightened Westerners
coming to Tibetan Buddhism for the first time, they are
faced with a pantheon of fearsome Buddhist deities,
archaic mantras, and a choice of different paths and
schools. Then there is the language problem. Much of the
beauty of Tibetan Buddhism, say those in the know, can
only be found through a thorough grasp of the Tibetan
language. For some, finding their way at first is
nothing short of a nightmare.
What path to take?
Monastic or lay? Which school to choose? Should the
teacher be a Tibetan? Or a Westerner? How do you choose?
There are no standard answers. From
conversations with high lamas, monks and Western
followers, the choice depends on a number of factors,
but largely boils down to the seeker's needs. Tenzin
Palmo says you don't have to rush off to live in a cave
to begin on the path to enlightenment. Speaking at her
nunnery at Tashi Jong monastery not far from Dharamsala,
she says there are many paths on offer and many methods.
The choice of teacher is vitally important. "Shop around
and don't be in a hurry," she says.
Yet when do
starry-eyed Westerners make a careful choice? Choosing a
job, choosing a school, this takes careful analysis. But
spiritual choice often seems to come down to a whim or
gut reaction. Western values of balance and objectivity
don't really come into play. Take the case of one
British woman who dropped a well-paid career at the
sight of a postcard of the young Karmapa Urgyen Trinley
when she was on vacation in Nepal about decade ago. "It
was his eyes," she says, referring to the young lama's
penetrating gaze. A decade later she is still wearing
her red robes.
"His eyes" - you hear it a lot.
People are drawn to Urgyen Trinley's penetrating eyes.
But it goes to show that the teacher, or in this case
the head of the Buddhist lineage, matters. He is the
person through whom the teachings are passed on. He is
the focus of adoration. Hence the care needed in the
search for a reborn lama.
If you are a Buddhist
and believe in reincarnation, how do you "know" whether
Urgyen Trinley or Thaye Dorje is the "real" Karmapa? Of
course there is no easy answer. Some say the real
Karmapa will prove himself in time. Lama Phuntsok, an
aide to Urgyen Trinley, has a more practical approach.
"People should try to meet both Karmapas, then decide,"
he says. Few, if any, have taken this logical path. But
even then, you cannot sit on the fence, saying both
Karmapas are great. You have to choose - hence the great
divide.
So how is this competition measuring up?
And what effect is it having on Western followers?
Trying to estimate the level of support for either side
is not easy. Followers are said to number in hundreds of
thousands and official centers number over 1,000. It is
both a numbers game and also a question of which high
lamas back which side.
Set in the forested hills
of Scotland, Karma Samye Ling monastery is a bastion of
support for Urgyen Trinley. This is the base of Akong
Rinpoche, who was the man who sought and found in Tibet
the young nomad boy destined for the Karmapa throne.
According to Kenneth Holmes, a Buddhist author and
teacher resident at the monastery, the first five years
of the contest, after Urgyen Trinley was proclaimed the
Karmapa, were "traumatic and confusing" for Westerners.
"Things have settled now and most Kagyu centers and
their followers in the West have realized that Urgyen
Trinley is supported by the vast majority of important
Kagyu lamas. The main exception concerns the numerous
small Dharma groups worldwide following the
controversial Danish Buddhist teacher Ole Nydahl."
Holmes, who has written a book Karmapa,
makes a point of trying to distinguish between numbers
and names. He says that when people hear of a split,
they tend to think of a 50-50 split, but, in the Karmapa
issue, "those following Thaye Dorje are a small
minority", he claims, and "nearly all the great lamas of
the Karma Kagyu tradition support Urgyen Trinley".
Is it acceptable to have two Karmapas? Holmes
says there is often, both in the press and the public, a
desire for fairness and objectivity that, as soon as it
hears there are two contenders in a domain about which
it knows little, wants to give each the same status.
"But imagine that someone suddenly appears and proclaims
himself king of England or the true pope! One cannot
give such a person equal credence and one wonders
immediately what is the agenda behind their claim," he
says. Clearly two Karmapas cannot sit on the same
throne.
One follower of the Karma Kagyu school
who has witnessed the split first-hand is Tomek Lehnert,
who stands on the other side of the divide. His book
Rogues in Robes provides an account of the
"Karmapa controversy" as told from the position of a
close aide to Lama Ole. Lehnert, a Pole, is Lama Ole's
"action man", constantly on the road with the Danish
teacher as he travels around the world giving Buddhist
teachings and empowerments.
Lehnert provides a
chart that shows a rundown of Buddhist centers around
the world that support either Karmapa candidate. By his
reckoning, 612 centers support their Karmapa Thaye
Dorje, and 425 that support Karmapa Urgyen Trinley.
"As a result of the bitter fighting between high
lamas, some practitioners lost confidence in Buddhism in
general," he says. "Some Westerners felt let down or
even betrayed by the Tibetan teachers. This may have
brought about crises in values in people's lives." Some
became cynical about Buddhism, he says, and "threw the
baby out with the bath water".
He claims that
some Western and Eastern followers became deaf to
reason, logic or common sense when defending their
choice of Karmapa and fanatical behavior became
prevalent. For some, the conflict has placed Tibetan
Buddhism on a par with other scandal-ridden groups and
sects, he says. The conflict enforces the prevailing
view that when it comes to spirituality - especially of
the Eastern kind - what matters most is money, power and
control of the followers.
The struggle for the
throne has damaged the institution of the Karmapa. But
it is not all bad. Lehnert and some other followers of
the Karma Kagyu school say the Karmapa controversy has
encouraged Western followers to become independent,
examining their teachers and becoming more critical of
spirituality in general. Common sense, logic and reason
now matter. And the teacher must be proved on his or her
merit, not merely on the basis of historical title or
spiritual recognition.
"People have learned to
discriminate," says Lehnert. "People have become more
aware of what kind of Buddhist methods are useful in the
West. Western practitioners have had to find their own
strength. The childlike dependency on a lama or teacher
has no place anymore."
Maybe so, but you tell
that to the Western followers who sit swooning at a
lama's feet. The Lord Buddha is supposed to have taught
that it is good to ask questions and have an open mind.
Because of the Karmapa controversy, questions will be
asked more. While there will obviously be those who find
it difficult to have an open mind, the debate may help
to open up the religion. It may at times prove bitter,
but the search for the truth is essential.
Some
Buddhist teachers say Western approaches to teaching and
examining Tibetan Buddhism will increasingly play more
of a part in how the religion is accepted in the West.
As more and more qualified Western teachers come
forward, the "cultural" side of Tibetan Buddhism will
diminish. That means fewer Westerners going around and
around in circles spinning prayer wheels and more focus
on the truth. As time goes on, Tibetan Buddhist
"politics" will diminish as the negative practices of
old Tibet are exposed. The importance of the Tibetan
master will slowly diminish, while the importance of the
Western master will slowly rise.
All this has to
happen if Tibetan Buddhism is to survive as a viable,
dynamic and attractive religion in the West. The Western
path to enlightenment is beginning to be trod. Some new
methods may prove useful. Some may be dumped in the
rubbish bin.
Whether or not parachuting becomes
part of a "fast course" to enlightenment remains to be
seen. Lama Ole is not saying it is "a must". Just that
it is useful for examining the mind. He encourages his
followers to jump. About 1,000 have jumped so far. He
says he has even asked Karmapa Thaye Dorje to jump.
So will he jump? Sitting in his house in
Kalimpong in India, Thaye Dorje smiles at the thought of
jumping out of an aircraft. "I am having second thoughts
about parachuting after Lama Ole's accident," he says
with a grin.
Tibetan lamas don't fall from the
sky. It's not the Tibetan way. Like his "competitor"
Urgyen Trinley, Thaye Dorje says he prefers not to be
drawn into the rights and wrongs of how each boy was
recognized. So what is his message for Westerners
perplexed by the controversy? "Focus on the Buddhist
Dharma, the teachings," he says. "Ignore the politics."
This is the concluding article of this
series.
(Copyright 2003 Asia Times Online
Ltd. All rights reserved. Please contact content@atimes.com for
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