Food of Sinful Demons:
A History of Vegetarianism in Tibet
Geoffrey Francis Barstow
Austin, TX
B.A., Hampshire College, 2001
B.A., Kathmandu University, 2005
M.T.S., Harvard Divinity School, 2008
A Dissertation presented to the Graduate Faculty
of the University of Virginia in Candidacy for the Degree of
Doctor of Philosophy
Department of Religious Studies
University of Virginia
August, 2013
© Copyright by
Geoffrey Francis Barstow
All Rights Reserved
August 2013
“Meat is a food for sinful demons.”
~ Nyammé Sherab Gyeltsen (1356-1415)
i
Abstract
This dissertation is a social and religious history of vegetarianism in Tibet.
Drawing on a wide variety of Tibetan language sources as well as contemporary
ethnographic fieldwork, I examine the practice of vegetarianism itself, the arguments
used to support it, as well as the social and cultural framework in which it occurred.
I begin by arguing that while vegetarianism never became normative for Tibetan
Buddhists, it was widely debated by religious leaders. Further, from at least the eleventh
century onwards, many individuals have responded to this debate by both personally
adopting vegetarianism and by promoting a meat-free diet among their followers. Most,
if not all, of these individuals were motivated to adopt vegetarianism by their
understanding of Tibetan Buddhism’s call to have compassion for all beings. Each
individual understood this call differently, however, and I explore and delineate the
various approaches different authors have taken in their arguments for vegetarianism.
Given the strength of these arguments, and the importance of compassion in
Tibetan Buddhism, I then turn to an analysis of why vegetarianism did not become more
prevalent. Some of the reasons for this were practical: the Tibetan environment made the
cultivation of vegetables difficult and meat tastes good. Other factors impeding the
ii
spread of vegetarianism were cultural: meat eating was part of a vision of masculinity that
celebrated strength and the ability to dominate others. This dissertation, therefore,
explores the intersection of and conflict between religious ideals celebrating compassion
for animals and the practical and cultural factors that opposed the adoption of a
vegetarian diet.
iii
Contents
Abstract...............................................................................................................................i
Contents .......................................................................................................................... iii
Transliteration, Translation and other Conventions......................................................... vi
Acknowledgements ......................................................................................................... viii
Introduction ............................................................................................. 1
Goals and Conclusions ............................................................................................ 2
Vegetarianism & Tibetan Studies............................................................................ 7
Sources & Methodology .......................................................................................... 9
Chapter Outline .................................................................................................... 17
Chapter 1: A Brief History of Tibetan Vegetarianism .............................. 24
Vegetarianism in Indian Buddhism ....................................................................... 26
Vegetarianism in Chinese Buddhism .................................................................... 34
Vegetarianism in Tibet .......................................................................................... 38
Imperial
Period
..............................................................................................................................
38
Second
Dissemination
..................................................................................................................
41
iv
Renaissance
.....................................................................................................................................
44
Jigmé
Lingpa,
Shabkar
and
the
Eighteenth
Century
.......................................................
49
Nineteenth
and
Twentieth
Century
Kham
...........................................................................
57
Contemporary
Tibet
.....................................................................................................................
73
Conclusion............................................................................................................. 84
Chapter 2: Compassion in Practice ......................................................... 89
White Food ........................................................................................................... 90
The Demands of Compassion ............................................................................. 104
Conclusion........................................................................................................... 133
Chapter 3: A Necessary Evil .................................................................. 135
A Permitted Food................................................................................................ 136
A Tantric Sacrament ........................................................................................... 143
No Other Options ............................................................................................... 148
A Necessary Evil.................................................................................................. 153
Strength & Masculinity ....................................................................................... 167
Taming the Food of Demons .............................................................................. 173
Conclusion........................................................................................................... 183
Chapter 4: Vegetarianism and Monasticism .......................................... 184
Vegetarianism in the Monastery .......................................................................... 185
Meat & Vows ...................................................................................................... 199
A Good Monk ..................................................................................................... 212
v
Monasticism and Masculinity.............................................................................. 215
Conclusion........................................................................................................... 220
Chapter 5: The Search for Legitimacy ................................................... 222
Political and Religious Instability ........................................................................ 223
Questions of Legitimacy ...................................................................................... 236
Vegetarianism & Legitimacy ............................................................................... 251
Conclusion........................................................................................................... 261
Conclusion ........................................................................................... 268
Concordance ........................................................................................ 272
Personal Names ................................................................................................... 272
Place Names ........................................................................................................ 278
Bibliography ......................................................................................... 280
Tibetan Language Sources .................................................................................. 280
Chinese Language Sources .................................................................................. 294
Western Language Sources ................................................................................. 295
vi
Transliteration, Translation and other Conventions
Throughout this dissertation, I have generally eschewed strict transliteration of
Tibetan terms and names in favor of phonetic transcription. By doing so, I hope to make
reading this work an easier task for those not already familiar with the Tibetan language.
In this effort I have employed the system of Tibetan phonetics developed by the Tibetan
and Himalayan Library, with occasional modifications based on my own understanding
of how a particular term is pronounced. I have also deviated from the THL standard for
names and terms that are already well know to an English speaking audience with a
particular spelling. Thus, I have used Jigmé Lingpa, rather than THL’s suggested Jikmé
Lingpa. Immediately following this dissertation is a complete concordance giving the
phonetic rendering of all names, along with their correct spelling in standard Wylie
transliteration. Wylie transliteration for all Tibetan terms other than names has been
provided in footnotes. All Chinese terms have been presented in Pinyin romanization.
This dissertation contains names of more than a hundred individual Tibetans.
The first time a name is mentioned in each chapter, it is followed by the year of that
person’s birth and death in parentheses. By repeating this information only once in each
vii
chapter, I hope to strike a balance between assisting the reader in remembering these
details and avoiding visual clutter.
Unless explicitly noted in a footnote, all Tibetan and Chinese passages quoted in
this dissertation have been translated by myself, even if other translations have been
previously published. By doing so, I hope to maintain a consistent tone across all such
passages. When previously published translations of a particular text are available, they
are mentioned in the footnote, immediately following the Tibetan language reference.
Text titles have been translated into English, in order to help those who do not
read Tibetan distinguish between them. The only exceptions are those canonical texts
already widely known by their Sanskrit titles. For these texts, English and Tibetan titles
have been provided in footnotes.
viii
Acknowledgements
I would like to open these acknowledgments by thanking my professors at
Hampshire College, particularly my advisors Sue Darlington and Alan Hodder. Their
example, patient support and (sometimes) painful critiques instilled in me a love of
scholarship for which I am profoundly grateful. I am also grateful to Chökyi Nyima
Rinpoché and the staff of the Rangjung Yeshé Institute. Their patient tutelage helped
turn my naive interest in Tibetan Buddhism into an appreciation of the complexity and
dynamism of this amazing religion. In particular, I am forever grateful to Chökyi Nyima
Rinpoché, who introduced me to the practice of compassion and who advised me to
pursue academic studies.
Any project as involved as a dissertation cannot be completed without the
assistance of many people. This is particularly true of a project such as this one,
dependent as it is on the identification of many small pieces of evidence. Reading the
entirety of the Tibetan literary canon by myself is obviously impossible, and few of the
sources used in this dissertation mention meat in their titles. I have relied, therefore, on
the willingness of friends and colleagues to point me towards relevant source material. It
is impossible for me to name every individual who assisted me in this way, but I will do
ix
my best, and extend my apologies to all those I have overlooked. My heartfelt thanks go
to (in alphabetical order) Cathy Cantwell, Bryan Cuevas, Catherine Dalton, Dominic Di
Zinno, Shayne Clarke, Kunzang Dorjee, Brandon Dotson, Margaret Ferrigno, Ruth
Gamble, Holly Gayley, Janet Gyatso, Lauran Hartley, Sarah Jacoby, Manu Lopez,
Charles Manson, Elizabeth Reynolds, Christy Robinson, Jann Ronis, Jampa Samten,
Thubten Soepa, Nicolas Sihlé, Matthew Stephensen, James Stewart, Brenton Sullivan,
Phurbu Tashi, Antonio Terrone, Leonard van der Kuijp, Stacey Van Vleet, Jed Verity,
Tenzin Wangmo, Chris Wilkinson and Noah Winer. I would also like to thank my
many Tibetan friends and informants inside Tibet who contributed their time and energy
to this project. I am withholding the name of these individuals out of concern for their
privacy, but I am deeply grateful nonetheless.
This project also depended on the financial support of several institutions. I
would like to take this opportunity to thank the Graduate School of Arts and Sciences at
the University of Virginia, the Fulbright U.S. Student Program, the Julian Paul Green
Memorial Fellowship and the Ellen Bayard Weedon Travel Grant. Without the support
of these institutions and fellowships, this project would never have seen the light of day.
I also wish to thank my advisors at the University of Virginia. David Germano
has been particularly adept at demolishing my fondest theories. This could be annoying
at times, but the dissertation is much better because of it and I am grateful. Kurtis
Schaeffer has overseen this entire project with unwavering support. I remember the day I
showed up in his office, a year and a half into an entirely different project, and suggested
x
changing my topic to Tibetan vegetarianism. I fully expected him to discourage me,
given the time already invested in the other project, but he saw the potential of this
project and encouraged me to pursue. Again, I am grateful for his assistance.
Finally, I wish to extend my deepest thanks to my family. My parents, Linda and
David Barstow, have consistently supported my research and academic ambitions. My
mother and father in law, Ellen and Robert Young, have likewise been unwavering in
their support. Further, for the better part of three both my mother and my mother in law
travelled repeatedly to first Charlottesville, then Spartanburg in order to assist my wife,
Eliza, and I with caring for our young daughter, Meg. Without this assistance, neither
Eliza nor I would have been able to complete the work our projects required.
Eliza has been a wonderful partner on this journey. It is always difficult juggling
the requirements of two academic careers, but this is particularly true when one requires
extended travel. Since beginning the PhD program at UVA five years ago, I have spent
more than twelve months doing fieldwork in China, a time that also corresponded with
some of the first years of Meg’s life. The travel required by my program has not always
made Eliza’s life easy, and I am profoundly grateful for her willingness to shoulder a
sometimes-unfair burden. Without her active support, this project would have been
impossible.
Lastly, I wish to thank my daughter Meg. It is always a joy to return from a long
day in the library and to see her smiling face, arms up-stretched for a hug. She has
brought more joy into my life than I ever thought possible.
1
Introduction
Few rules are as central to Buddhist ethics as the command not to kill. It is the
first of the many rules the Buddha laid down, and both monks and laypeople are expected
to adhere to it. In Tibet, this emphasis on not killing has led to widespread
condemnation of anyone who kills for a living. Both soldiers and butchers are routinely
critiqued. Despite this emphasis on avoiding killing, however, almost all Tibetans eat
meat, often copiously. In fact, meat is one of the three most important staples in the
Tibetan diet, along with roasted barley flour and butter tea.
Meat eating, however, is not universal in Tibet. From at least the eleventh
century on, some individuals have understood meat eating to conflict with Buddhist
ethical norms and have adopted a vegetarian diet. Vegetarianism was never normative in
Tibet, but its practitioners were a consistent minority, present throughout Tibetan
history. In this dissertation, I will examine the practice of vegetarianism in Tibet,
addressing its historical presence, the arguments used to support (and denigrate) it and
the social and religious contexts in which it occurred.
2
Goals and Conclusions
This dissertation has its roots in a reading of Patrül Rinpoché’s (1808-1887) The
Words of My Perfect Teacher. I had already spent a year researching another project, and
had opened Patrül’s classic with that project in mind. I was struck, however, by Patrül’s
mocking description of monks, beards tinged red from the bloody meat they were eating,
covering their heads in shame.1 I had lived with Tibetans long enough to know that most
ate meat with gusto, but this passage made me wonder if Tibet might have a history of
vegetarianism as well. At the same time, a search of the secondary literature showed that
scholars had yet to analyze the place of vegetarianism within Tibetan religion. Given
these two points, I was happy to jettison my previous topic and launch into the study of
vegetarianism.2
When I first described my project to academic peers, many were skeptical that
vegetarianism was widespread enough to justify my research. There may have been a few
vegetarians in Tibet, these interlocutors suggested, but surely not enough to warrant a
history of the diet. Such beliefs were not limited to western scholars, but were also
expressed by many of my Tibetan friends. For many, the idea of a Tibetan refusing to eat
meat was somewhat comical, and they greeted descriptions of this project with looks of
patient bewilderment.
1
2
dpal sprul, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 103. Patrül, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 70.
At this point, I want to thank my advisor, Kurtis Schaeffer, for his support of this shift in topic. When I
first suggested the change, I was worried that he would try to dissuade me, given the year I had already
spent on plan A. But he saw the topic’s potential as soon as I suggested it, and encouraged me to make the
shift.
3
Indeed, in recent years there has been a consistent discourse that labels
vegetarianism in pre-modern Tibet not just non-existent, but actually impossible. Even
those contemporary Tibetan lamas who personally support vegetarianism have often
insisted that in the pre-modern context, vegetarianism was impossible in Tibet, often
citing the difficulty of growing vegetables in Tibet’s high altitude climate. To give just
one example of many, Tenzin Gyatso, the present Dalai Lama (1935- ), has argued, “In
Tibet the difficult geographical conditions - its climate and altitude - were not suitable
for growing vegetables and the people have always had to depend on meat and dairy
products to survive.”3 Similarly, most of my informants in contemporary Tibet could not
name a single Tibetan vegetarian who lived prior to recent decades, generally insisting
that vegetarianism was a recent phenomenon, possible only after the creation of modern
roads allowed vegetables to be imported from adjacent, lower altitude regions.
As this argument suggests, agriculture is, in fact, quite difficult in most Tibetan
regions. With the exception of barley, few crops can be easily cultivated, and fruit is all
but unknown. In some villages, those vegetables that were available were not thought to
be fit for human consumption.4 Further, a large proportion of Tibet’s population were
nomads, dependent on their herds for both food and the entirety of their economic
production. Given these constraints, it is not surprising that meat was a staples in the
Tibetan diet.
3
His Holiness the Dalai Lama, “Non-Vegetarian Food,” 57.
4
Khentrul Rinpoche, Vegetarianism Free from Extremes.
4
Nor are environmental factors the only constraints on the practice of
vegetarianism. Tibetan medicine, both in textual and popular understanding, views
eating meat as a crucial element in human health. Concerns over vegetarianism’s impact
on health also carried religious overtones: without health, an individual could lose the
ability to practice religion properly.
Beyond its general association with health, meat also carried specific connections
with physical strength. Strength, in turn, was intimately related to masculine ideals. As a
threat to an individual’s physical strength, vegetarianism also represented a threat to their
masculinity. For some men, therefore, meat was not simply a dietary necessity, it was an
important aspect of their masculine identity.
And yet, despite all of these factors, there has been a consistent discourse in
Tibetan religious literature that critiques meat as sinful. Tibetan Buddhism idealizes
compassion as the highest motivation for any activity. Moreover, such compassion is to
be directed towards all sentient beings, a category that explicitly includes animals.
Drawing on this idealization of compassion, some Tibetan religious leaders have argued
that eating meat is unacceptable, praising vegetarianism as the only dietary practice
acceptable for Buddhists.
Further, and despite my informants’ claims to the contrary, vegetarianism was not
only praised, but actually implemented in Tibet. To date, I have compiled a list of thirtyseven individuals who lived prior to the 1950 Chinese invasion and who can reliably be
identified as vegetarian, with fifty more whose vegetarianism is possible but
5
unconfirmed.5 These may not seem like large numbers, given the thousand plus years of
Buddhist history in Tibet, but these are only the individuals I have identified by name.
There were, presumably, many others who upheld a vegetarian diet but whom I have
been unable to identify. Vegetarianism never became normative in Tibet, but it did exist.
In many ways, this dissertation explores the intersection between these religious
calls for vegetarianism and the environmental and cultural factors that made such a diet
difficult. Vegetarianism may have been praised by some Buddhist leaders, but that praise
did not necessarily remove the many obstacles to its adoption. The account I present
here, however, is more than just a story of practical difficulties being overcome—or not
overcome—by religious ideals. Just as there are a variety of factors, both environmental
and cultural, that mitigate against vegetarianism, there are also a variety of arguments
that support it. Some of these concerns overlap and converge, others are in opposition to
each other. My goal, throughout this dissertation, has been to create a portrait of the
practice of vegetarianism in its Tibetan context with as much detail and nuance as the
sources will allow.
Towards that end, this dissertation is structured in two parts. In the first, I
establish that vegetarianism did, in fact, exist in Tibet. It never became normative, but it
persisted as a minority practice reserved for a small group of religiously devout Tibetans.
That said, vegetarianism was definitely more popular at some times than at others;
5
As will be discussed in chapter two, vegetarianism in Tibet meant different things to different people at
different times. Not everyone included in these numbers, therefore, practiced exactly the same diet, or was
vegetarian for their entire life.
6
thirteenth through fifteenth century Central Tibet being one important time and Kham
from the nineteenth century through the present another.
The first section of this dissertation also addresses the various arguments given in
support of vegetarianism. Most discussions of vegetarianism hinge on Tibetan
Buddhism’s call to have compassion for all beings. Each individual understood the
demands of compassion differently, however, and I explores the various approaches
different authors have taken in their arguments for vegetarianism.
Following this discussion of vegetarianism itself, in the second part of the
dissertation I turn my attention to the social and cultural context in which vegetarianism
was situated. This discussion invokes many factors, including environmental constraints.
Most importantly, however, I note the alignment between vegetarianism and the tamed
ideals promoted by Buddhistic religiosity, in contrast to other cultural ideals more closely
associated with untamed masculinity. This alignment explains vegetarianism’s specific
association with monastics rather than lay religious practitioners, despite the explicit
permission to eat meat found in the monastic code. It also explains vegetarianism’s
ability to enhance both individual and group legitimacy, at least during those times when
tamed religion was celebrated over untamed ideals such as strength and dominance.
7
Vegetarianism & Tibetan Studies
To date, there have been no academic studies of vegetarianism in Tibet.6 A few
studies have mentioned the presence of vegetarians, but none have sought to examine the
practice in any detail. There has, however, been a continuing debate among
contemporary Tibetan Buddhists—both ethnically Tibetan and western—over
vegetarianism. This debate has played out in magazine articles, sermons by prominent
lamas, and an ever increasing number of texts—in both Tibetan and western languages—
that directly reference vegetarianism. While these works generally forego any systematic,
academic analysis of the phenomena, they have often been extremely useful in helping me
locate important sources.7
Further, while there has been no scholarly analysis of vegetarianism in Tibet,
there has been significant scholarship directed towards vegetarianism in the Buddhist
traditions of India and China. With regards to the former, several studies have been
written that specifically focus on two points, the contents of the Buddha’s final meal and
the role of the rule of threefold purity.8 While these studies do not directly reference
6
The one exception is my own article on vegetarianism in the works of Jigmé Lingpa, recently published by
the Journal of Buddhist Ethics.
7
Particularly important translations include:
Patrul Rinpoche. The Words of My Perfect Teacher. Shabkar, Food of Bodhisattvas. Jigme Lingpa, Story of
the Hunted Deer. Nyakla Pema Dudul, Advice on Abandoning Meat. Mochizuki, “On the Scriptures
Introducing the Prohibition of Meat and Alcohol.”
8
On the Buddha’s last meal, see:
Wasson & O’Flaherty, “Last Meat of the Buddha.”
On threefold purity, see:
Horner, “Early Buddhism.” Rahula, “Buddhist Attitude.” Prasad, “Meat-Eating and the Rule of
Tikoṭiparisuddha.”
8
Tibetan Buddhist practices, they do allow Tibetan vegetarianism to be understood in the
context of its Indian forebears.
Similarly, there have been several excellent studies of vegetarianism in Chinese
Buddhism. Of particular importance is John Kieschnick’s “Buddhist Vegetarianism in
China,” which provides a brief but detailed history of the diet in Chinese Buddhism,
tracking its rise from a fringe practice to a diet expected of all devout Buddhists, ordained
and lay. This work, along with other articles that address vegetarianism in China with
varying degrees of directness, provides an even more complete picture of Chinese
Buddhist vegetarianism than is available for India.9 Again, while the patterns found in
Chinese Buddhist vegetarianism do not necessarily apply to Tibet, these works help to
situate Tibetan vegetarianism in a broader regional and historical context.
There have also been several important studies that deal with the place of animals
in Tibetan culture. The most important of these include articles addressing the role of
hunting in Tibetan culture. Both John Bellezza and Brandon Dotson have written
important works discussing the social role played by hunting in the pre-Buddhist period,
both of which have proven instrumental in my discussion of the relationship between
hunting and masculinity. Toni Huber addresses contemporary hunting practices in his
“Antelope Hunting in Northern Tibet,” as well as the practice of banning hunting in
For more general studies of vegetarianism in India, see:
Doniger, Hindus. Chapple, Nonviolence. Alsdorf, Vegetarianism and Cow-Veneration in India.
9
Other key works include:
Reinders, “Blessed are the Meat Eaters.” ter Haarh, “Buddhist Inspired Options.” Welch, The Practice of
Chinese Buddhism.
9
certain areas. All of these works shed light on attitudes towards animals and animal
suffering in Tibet.
Finally, this dissertation is indebted to the many recent works of scholarship that
address nineteenth and twentieth century Kham. Of particular importance are
dissertations by Jann Ronis, William Gorvine and Alex Gardner, as well as articles by
William Coleman, Tsering Thar, Xiuyu Wang, Lauren Hartley and Gene Smith. This
time period is the focus of chapter five in this dissertation, and I draw heavily on these
works for my understanding of its religious, political and cultural movements.
Sources & Methodology
In performing the research for this dissertation, I have relied primarily on Tibetan
language texts, including biographies, autobiographies, religious advice literature and
discussions of monastic vows. Among these the biographical and autobiographical
material is perhaps the most voluminous. Tibetan biographical literature was frequently
written by disciples of a prominent lama, and generally assumes a reverent tone, clearly
intent on presenting the author’s revered teacher in as positive a light as possible.10
Similarly, autobiographical literature, while written by the subject themselves, was usually
intended to cultivate disciples’ faith, so it once again focuses on highlighting the positive
aspects of their life.11 This is not to say that Tibetan biographical and autobiographical
10
Gorvine. The Life of a Bönpo Luminary, 14.
11
Gyatso, Apparitions of the Self, 116-121.
10
literature always omits less positive aspects of an individual’s life, but given the often
explicit goal of cultivating disciples’ faith, positive episodes are frequently highlighted.12
Such goals make these sources both useful and potentially problematic for this
study. On the positive side, admired traits, including vegetarianism, are often mentioned
in such works, making them a valuable source of information on who adopted
vegetarianism. At the same time, these mentions are often highly reverential in tone,
resulting in little, if any, discussion of the lived realities a vegetarian diet might entail. A
good example of this type of passage can be found in Gö Lotsawa’s (1392-1481) Blue
Annal’s depiction of the fourth Karmapa, Rolpé Dorjé (1340-1383), “He guarded his
monastic commitments with great subtlety, not allowing even a hair’s breadth of meat or
wine into his presence.”13 In many ways this report is quite valuable: not only does it
point to Rolpé Dorjé as a vegetarian, but it also highlights both the diet’s connection with
monasticism and the fact that it was admired. At the same time, however, it’s brevity
gives little insight into the details of vegetarianism in fourteenth century Tibet.
The Blue Annals includes hundreds of short biographies, and with so many
individuals to discuss, the brevity of Gö Lotsawa’s description of Rolpé Dorjé’s
vegetarianism is understandable. What is more surprising is the often brief mentions of
vegetarianism in full length biographical works. The Autobiography of Sera Khandro
(1892-1940), for instance, mentions her vegetarianism twice over the course of more than
12
Two excellent examples of more critical, self-reflexive autobiographies are those of Jigmé Lingpa and
Shabkar.
13
‘gos lo zhon nu dpal, Blue Annals, 592. Roerich, Blue Annals, 499.
‘dul ba’i bcas pa phra mo rnams kyang bsrung zhing/ sha dang chang spu rtse tsam yang spyan lam du mi ‘grim/
11
four hundred pages.14 Similarly, Künga Tenpé Gyeltsen’s (1885-1952) The Life of
Ngawang Lekpa mentions only once, in ninety-one pages, that Ngawang Lekpa (18641941) was a lifelong vegetarian.15 With a few notable exceptions, including the
autobiographies of Jigmé Lingpa (1730-1798) and Shabkar (1781-1851), such brief
discussions of vegetarianism are standard for this material. Thus, while these sources
offer valuable insight into who practiced vegetarianism, they are often frustratingly
incomplete on the details, difficulties and social context of the diet.
Fortunately, the brief descriptions found in biographical and autobiographical
literature are supplemented by longer discussions in works of religious advice. Some of
these works offer advice on many topics, and include discussions of vegetarianism as a
relatively minor tangent. Perhaps the most prominent example of this is Patrül
Rinpoché’s aforementioned Words of My Perfect Teacher, a commentary on a set of
meditation instructions that also includes several scathing critiques of meat eating.
Such passages are complemented by texts focused on monastic vows. These texts
can be either commentaries on the monastic code itself, or works addressing the three
vows—monastic vows, Bodhisattva vow and tantric vows—as a group. In both
formulations, these texts sometimes discuss the place of meat in the performance of
correct monastic conduct. Further, some commentaries on the three vows also discuss
the role of meat in the Bodhisattva and tantric vows. Meat is viewed very differently in
14
se ra mkha’ ‘dro, Autobiography, 130-131, 356. Jacoby, Consorts and Revelations, 56, 295.
15
kun dga’ bstan pa’i rgyal mtshan, Biography of Ngawang Lekpa, 10.
12
each of these perspectives, making such texts an important window into the place of
vegetarianism in Tibetan religiosity both inside and outside a monastic context.
Still, as with Patrül’s The Words of My Perfect Teacher, these texts rarely devote
more than a few pages to the question of vegetarianism. In order to find longer
treatments of this topic, we need to turn to those few texts that focus entirely, or almost
entirely, on the question of vegetarianism. To date, I have identified six such texts
written prior to the Chinese invasion. Another half-dozen have been composed over the
last two decades. These texts range in length from Nyakla Pema Düdül’s (1816-1873)
three page Advice on Abandoning Meat to Ngorchen Künga Zangpo’s (1382-1444) fifty
page Letter to Benefit Students. Given their length and specific concern with meat, these
texts provide the clearest insight into the arguments and debates that surrounded
vegetarianism.
In addition to granting insight into their own authors’ opinions, these texts also
help to give a more general sense of the arguments prevalent at a given time, helping to
contextualize the shorter passages found in other texts. As an example, The Blue Annals’
brief mention of Rolpé Dorjé’s vegetarianism makes clear that it was a part of his
monastic vows. This, by itself, seems incongruous as the monastic code is generally
understood to permit meat eating. However, both Dolpopa and Ngorchen Künga
Zangpo’s works on vegetarianism, written within a century of Rolpé Dorjé’s life, discuss
the place of meat in monasticism at length, arguing strongly that it is not permitted.
Within this context, The Blue Annals’ brief comments make much more sense.
13
One type of text that I have not found is a defense of meat eating written prior to
the last three decades.16 There could be many reasons for this lacunae, but the simplest is
probably the fact that vegetarianism remained rare enough not to challenge those who
chose to eat meat, so they may not have felt a need to defend their diet in writing. In
order to understand the arguments supporting meat eating, therefore, I have had to rely
on anti-meat works. Fortunately, these texts often systematically critique what they
understand to be the arguments in support of meat eating, making it fairly simple to recreate pro-meat positions. What is much more difficult, however, is determining the
extent to which actual people held these positions, or whether they may have been strawman arguments, set forward for easy critique by authors opposed to meat.
Collectively, these materials provide a broad vision of vegetarianism across
Tibetan history. They also present a number of difficulties, however. As already
mentioned, many of these sources are frustratingly brief in their discussion of
vegetarianism. They may help to identify individuals who were vegetarian, or to establish
the general type of argument being used, but with only a few exceptions, they omit the
details.
Perhaps more importantly, these texts are difficult to locate and identify. This is
particularly true of those texts that only mention vegetarianism briefly. In order to find
references such as these, I have relied heavily on both previous scholarship and interviews
16
Since the late nineteen seventies, several such texts have been written by Tibetan lamas living in exile,
often in response to questions from their western students. Given the new context these texts emerged out
of, however, I have not included them in this work, which deals primarily with vegetarianism in Tibet prior
to the Chinese invasion of the nineteen fifties.
14
with Tibetan scholars. A good example of the former can be found in Sarah Jacoby’s
dissertation, Consorts and Revelations in Eastern Tibet. This work, which discusses Sera
Khandro’s life in detail, also mentions her vegetarianism.17 Jacoby does not discuss Sera
Khandro’s vegetarianism in detail, but she does provide the necessary reference for me to
query the text itself. Several of the texts at the core of this dissertation were found
through a similar process of working backwards from brief mentions in previous
scholarship or English translations.
Other sources were found through interviews with contemporary Tibetan lamas
and scholars. During my field research, I queried numerous knowledgeable Tibetans
about both the contemporary vegetarian movement and vegetarians of earlier generations.
This process is exemplified in my interactions with a Sakya Khenpo18 from the Minyak
region of Kham.19 A mutual friend introduced me to the Khenpo in Chengdu. At the
time, he mentioned that he thought Ngawang Lekpa was a vegetarian. Two months
later, when I visited his monastery in Minyak, he was able to provide me with a
biography of Ngawang Lekpa that included an explicit reference to his vegetarianism.
Finally, many of the texts used in this study were found through a process of
browsing catalogs of Tibetan texts and, frequently enough, the texts themselves. Given
the voluminous nature of Tibetan literature, it is impossible to read, or even skim, more
17
Jacoby, Consorts and Revelations, 56, 295.
18
tib: mkhan po. The title Khenpo signifies that an individual has completed many years of scholastic
study. It is roughly equivalent to a western PhD.
19
With the exception of a few prominent religious leaders, I am withholding the names of my informants
in Tibet, in order to preserve their privacy.
15
than a tiny fraction of the potential sources available. Further, few relevant texts mention
vegetarianism in their titles. As I accumulated source material, however, I began to
understand what types of text were likely to contain references to meat and where in
those texts such references might be found. This allowed me to focus my browsing
habits, making the process much more productive. Not every text I examined proved
fruitful, but some of my most important sources were located through such targeted
browsing.
Finally, this dissertation has been informed by my fieldwork in Kham. This
research began in the summer of 2010 with a six week visit to the region, and continued
with a ten month period during the 2011-2012 academic year, as well as a brief visit to
Tibetan exile communities in India and Nepal in February of 2012.20 Because of political
tension in post-2008 Kham, I was unable to spend any long periods of time at individual
monasteries.21 I was unable, therefore, to conduct the detailed research that I had initially
hoped to accomplish. Instead, I tried to substitute breadth for depth and travelled widely
throughout the region, visiting several dozen monasteries and conducting hundreds of
interviews.
This fieldwork forms the core of my analysis of the contemporary vegetarian
movement, which I found to be strikingly vital, spreading rapidly throughout the Tibetan
20
I am grateful to the Fulbright U.S. student program and the Julian Green Fellowship for their support of
this fieldwork.
21
In 2008 the entire Tibetan region experienced a series of riots in opposition to Chinese control. By the
time I arrived, the large demonstrations had been replaced by a wave of self-immolations. The police
presence was widespread, and all foreigners were regarded with deep suspicion.
16
cultural region. Most of this dissertation, however, is concerned with vegetarianism in
Tibet prior to the Chinese invasion, and few of my informants were old enough to
remember this time. Given the massive political and social shifts of the last sixty years, it
is clear that my fieldwork among contemporary Tibetans cannot represent Tibetan
practices during that earlier time.
With that said, there have been a few instances where contemporary practice
clearly reflects issues similar to those found in my textual sources. In those instances I
have drawn on this fieldwork to help illustrate behavior and beliefs found in the textual
material. A good example of this can be found in the idea of eating only meat that had
died naturally. Some figures, most notably Shardza Tashi Gyeltsen (1859-1935), ate
only this type of meat, refusing the meat of any animals that had been slaughtered.
When I first read this, I was skeptical that such a diet was feasible. Subsequently,
however, I spent more than a week in a village whose residents refused to slaughter their
animals, deriving enough meat from wolf-kills, accidents and lightening strikes to sustain
themselves. If it had not been for this experience, my understanding of Shardza’s text
would be quite different. Thus, the fieldwork I conducted in Kham is important not only
for the light it shines on contemporary practice, but also for its ability to illuminate past
issues as well.
17
Chapter Outline
Above, I outlined two fundamental sections in this dissertation, the first
concerned with the practice of vegetarianism itself, and the second focussed on the
practice’s cultural context. The chapter structure I have adopted addresses these issues
more or less in order, with the first chapter focused on the history of vegetarianism in
Tibet, the second looking at arguments used to support vegetarianism and the third
through fifth chapters addressing the diet’s social context.
In order to present the religious and historical context within which Tibetan
vegetarianism arose, the first chapter of this dissertation opens with a discussion of
vegetarianism in Indian Buddhism and Chinese Buddhism. Indian Buddhist texts in
particular were often cited by later Tibetan proponents of vegetarianism, and in many
ways set the terms of debate that would be followed by later Tibetan exegetes.
The chapter then turns to vegetarianism in Tibet itself, beginning with the
earliest references. Dating to the early decades of the second dissemination, these
references are usually brief, but set the stage for the first period during which
vegetarianism was relatively widely adopted: the thirteenth through fifteenth centuries.
Numerous individuals adopted vegetarianism during this time, including several of the
most important figures of this time. Further, this time features the first two texts that I
am aware of that specifically focus on meat.
After the fifteenth century, however, vegetarianism seems to have decreased in
importance, at least until the late eighteenth century, when two individuals, Jigmé Lingpa
18
(1730-1798) and Shabkar (1781-1851), reinvigorated the vegetarian movement. Thanks
in large part to their efforts, vegetarianism experienced what was perhaps its period of
greatest popularity in late nineteenth and early twentieth century Kham. Once again,
there are numerous records of individuals adopting vegetarianism during this time, as
well as several texts specifically addressing meat consumption. While vegetarianism never
became the norm, it does seem to have been quite popular during this time.
Finally, this chapter concludes with a discussion of vegetarianism in contemporary
Tibet. The political, economic and cultural context of the present day differs
considerably from earlier times, and those changes have dramatically impacted the
vegetarian movement. Of key importance in this shift is the ease of transmitting
information, both as text and video, and the development of modern roads, which have
made vegetables and other non-meat foods available even in remote areas. With these
changes, and under the leadership of several charismatic individuals, vegetarianism has
become broadly popular in contemporary Tibet.
The second chapter of this dissertation seeks to address the arguments put
forward in support of vegetarianism. Before getting into those issues, however, I detour
slightly to discuss what, exactly, I mean when I use the term vegetarian. As with its
modern, western context, where the term ‘vegetarianism’ can refer to a variety of diets
ranging from strict veganism to the mere rejection of red meat, Tibet also featured a
variety of diets that differ from each other, but are all united by the idea that meat is a
sinful food to be avoided.
19
Following this, chapter two turns towards the arguments themselves, noting that
at their root, all of the arguments hinge on the importance Tibetan Buddhism places on
compassion, and the assumption that killing an animal for its meat violates that principle.
In practice, however, different authors have approached this argument in different ways,
and with different emphases. This chapter catalogs and differentiates these various
approaches.
Having discussed compassion at length, this chapter turns to two related, but
distinct arguments. In the first, some Tibetans have sought to emphasize the idea that
eating meat will produce negative karmic repercussions in a future life. Here, instead of
focusing on the need to have compassion for the animal, these authors ask their readers to
have concern for their own future existences. In the second, adopting vegetarianism is
seen to have direct soteriological benefit for an individual. Specifically, by adopting
vegetarianism and cultivating compassion towards animals, individuals can provoke
powerful religious experiences, making vegetarianism beneficial not only to the animals
but also for the practitioner themselves.
This dissertation’s third chapter marks a shift to an analysis of the context within
which vegetarianism was practiced (or avoided). Specifically, this chapter asks why, given
the extensive arguments against meat discussed in the previous chapter, any Tibetans
would continue eating it. When asked, almost all Tibetans I interviewed, both vegetarian
and non-vegetarian, admitted that meat tastes good. This fact, however, seems
insufficient to explain the persistence of meat in the Tibetan diet. Sex, after all, is also
20
pleasant, and yet Tibetan monks are widely expected to be celibate. Sex, however, is
clearly forbidden by the monastic code, while meat eating is more ambiguous. Those
who supported vegetarianism had no difficulty arguing that it is forbidden, but those
inclined to eat meat were also able to point to scriptural passages allowing it.
In addition to meat’s pleasant taste, environmental factors mitigated strongly
against vegetarianism. More specifically, the dearth of vegetables, fruits or other nonmeat foods increased the importance of meat in the diet. For many, there were few other
options. And yet, as the first chapter of this dissertation demonstrates, many Tibetans
did, in fact, adopt vegetarianism, living long and healthy lives without meat. Like meat’s
pleasant taste, environmental circumstances mitigated against vegetarianism, but the diet
remained a demonstrably viable option nonetheless.
In order to further explain meat’s persistence in Tibetan diet, this chapter turns to
an examination of the role of meat in Tibetan culture more broadly. Of particular
importance is meat’s connection with notions of strength and masculinity. Meat eating, I
demonstrate, is widely seen as a necessary part of building physical strength, and as such
is entwined with a particular vision of ideal masculinity. These ideals, in turn, are
associated with the untamed side of Tibetan culture, often explicitly opposed to tamed,
Buddhist culture.
Tamed and untamed ideas frequently coexist in an uneasy tension; ethical ideals
derived from Buddhism are not always the dominant cultural force. Among other
implications, this means that meat eating is frequently celebrated in Tibetan culture,
21
despite a nearly universal acknowledgement that vegetarianism is good and meat eating is
at least mildly problematic according to Buddhist ethical norms. When proponents argue
for vegetarianism, other cultural ideals push back. These untamed ideals also celebrate
sex and procreation as an essential part of masculinity, but in this case the Buddhistic
proscription is clear. Without such a clear proscription, however, proponents of
vegetarianism have had a more difficult time taming their carnivorous opponents.
The fourth chapter of this dissertation focuses on the connection between meat
and monasticism. This association is widely attested in the source material, with many
individuals adopting vegetarianism at the time they ordain, and others explicitly asserting
that monks may not eat meat. Indeed, until the late eighteenth century, vegetarianism in
Tibet is almost exclusively a monastic affair. This is surprising because the monastic code
explicitly allows monks to eat meat.
In order to understand this, I first note that while most authors agree
vegetarianism is permitted by the monastic code, many also argue that it is not permitted
by the Bodhisattva vow, which all Tibetan monks also take. Further, according to
Tibetan theories regarding the three types of vows, the Bodhisattva vow is superior to
monastic vows. That is, in cases of conflict, an individual should adhere to the
Bodhisattva vow. For monks, then, vegetarianism stems from adherence to a higher level
of conduct that the mere monastic code itself.
This helps to explain why some felt vegetarianism was necessary for monks, but it
does not yet explain why so many people felt vegetarianism was important for monks, but
22
not for other types of practitioners. In order to address this, I return to the association
between meat eating, strength, masculinity and untamed aspects of Tibetan culture. In
the conflict between tamed and untamed aspects of Tibetan culture, both monasticism
and vegetarianism are strongly associated with tamed religiosity. On the other hand,
non-monastic, non-celibate practitioners are more ambiguous, drawing on both tamed
and untamed ideals. While they are generally expected to uphold the ideals of a
Bodhisattva just as monks are, they also marry and produce progeny, maintaining their
association with untamed ideals. I argue that for such individuals, situated ambiguously
between the norms of tamed and untamed religiosity, vegetarianism was much less of a
concern.
Finally, chapter five addresses why vegetarianism became more popular during
certain periods of time. In particular, the chapter focuses on nineteenth and twentieth
century Kham, when vegetarianism achieved what I believe to be its highest level of
popularity prior to the present. In order to do this, I first look at the history of this
period more broadly, noting a pair of key facts. First, this period was highly unstable,
both religiously and politically. This meant that both individual practitioners and sects
had to vie with one another for patrons and disciples. In order to be effective in this,
both individuals and groups cultivated legitimacy, the sense among potential patrons or
students that the figure in question was motivated by genuine religious concerns, and
was, therefore, a worthy object of devotion.
23
Second, monasticism and practices associated with monasticism were becoming
increasingly important during this period, making them useful avenues for increasing
legitimacy. Scholarship, for instance, was highly praised, making scholastic studies an
effective means for developing the legitimacy that could raise an individual’s profile.
Similarly, vegetarianism, strongly associated with the monastic ideal, was a powerful way
to display one’s legitimacy. Not only could vegetarianism be used in this way, but I argue
that texts and oral histories of this period demonstrate that it was, in fact, functioning in
this way.
Overall, this dissertation sets out to present as complete a picture of Tibetan
vegetarianism as possible, given the sources available. As further sources come to light
and further research into the relationship between humans and animals in Tibet is
conducted, it is likely that the conclusions contained in this work will become outdated.
Indeed, it is my hope that, rather than serve as a definitive treatment of this topic, this
work will be a stepping stone for others, who can, over the coming years, correct its many
mistakes and deficiencies.
24
Chapter 1
A Brief History of Tibetan Vegetarianism
The Buddha enshrined avoiding killing as the first ethical rule, to be adhered to
by all who follow his path. And yet most Buddhists eat meat. This is true not only of a
single Buddhist community, but is broadly true of almost all Buddhist communities
across the globe and through history.22 There have always been some Buddhists,
however, who point to the seeming contradiction between eating meat and the Buddha’s
call to do no harm and argue for the adoption of a vegetarian diet. Such voices have
generally remained a minority, yet they are a consistent minority, cropping up again and
again over the centuries.
This dissertation will look at these voices as they manifested themselves in Tibet,
a vast, cold and arid region between India and China. While meat has always been a
staple in Tibet, there has also been a consistent discourse praising, and sometimes even
practicing, vegetarianism. Vegetarians in Tibet have always been a minority, but at times
they were a sizable and important minority, well worth examination.
22
As
will
be
discussed
below,
China
is
the
notable
exception
to
this
rule.
25
As the first step in that examination, this present chapter will provide an overview
of the history of vegetarianism in Tibet. This history begins with the first dissemination
of Buddhism in the seventh and eighth centuries, continues through the second
dissemination in the eleventh and twelfth centuries, and pays particular attention to a
surge of vegetarianism in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries. After a period of decline,
vegetarianism emerged again, finding perhaps its highest level of popularity in the eastern
region of Kham, from the nineteenth century through the present. By providing an
overview of vegetarianism in Tibet, this chapter serves as a foundation for later chapters,
which will explore aspects of the Tibetan vegetarian movement in detail.
Before turning to vegetarianism in Tibet, however, it is worth examining the
practice in Buddhist India and Buddhist China, as the forms of Buddhism found in these
countries influenced the development of the religion in Tibet. In particular, the forms of
Buddhism practiced in India, the place where the religion first developed, came to be
seen by many Tibetans as the model for correct Buddhist practice. At least in theory,
arguments, ideas and practices needed to be rooted in the canonical texts of Indian
Buddhism to be considered legitimate. Tibetan discussions of vegetarianism were no
different, requiring us to open our discussion of vegetarianism in Tibet with a look at
vegetarianism in Buddhist India.
26
Vegetarianism in Indian Buddhism
In looking at Indian Buddhist vegetarianism, we should begin with the life and
example of the historical Buddha, Śakyamuni. As the ultimate source of Buddhist
teachings, the Buddha’s life has been the subject of many biographical and hagiographical
accounts. Each of these accounts reflect different concerns on the part of their authors,
and we should not be surprised to find that they differ, sometimes significantly, in their
details—including on the question of whether or not the Buddha ate meat.
From among these various biographical accounts, a few stories stand out through
their frequent recurrence in various editions of the canon, as well as their frequent
citation by later interpreters. Perhaps the most important of these is the story of the
Buddha’s first promulgation of the doctrine of threefold purity, which came to govern
monks’ consumption of meat.23 This regulation is mentioned in several different Sūtras,
but the most important version is contained in The Foundations of the Vinaya, a four
volume compendium of the rules for monks and accounts of the origin of those rules.24
Though lengthy, this story is important enough to reproduce in full:
Then the Blessed Buddha was staying at the Monkey Pond in Vaiśālī.
In Vaiśālī there was a chieftain named Sengé. One day, [sengé]
brought meat specifically for those [monks] living there, [25b] and they
came and ate it. At that time, the Blessed One, having seen the truth
23
24
Tib: snang gsum dag pa / rnam gsum dag pa
This rule is attested in several different recensions of the vinaya. As my concern in this dissertation is
Tibetan Buddhism, I am drawing primarily from Tibetan sources for this account. For a translation of the
Pali version, which differs in many details, see: Horner, trans. The Sacred Books of the Buddhists, Vol 5, 324325.
27
of karma, did not eat. The meat [sengé] had brought, was given to
those monks who had come. Some non-Buddhists25 criticized those
monks who had eaten that food, deceiving [others] and slandering [the
monks], saying “Chieftain sengé brought meat specifically [for the
monks], so those wise ones should not have eaten it. Yet it was given
to the ascetics of the Son of Shakya [the Buddha], and they ate this
meat that had been prepared specifically for them.” At that time, the
monks asked the Blessed One about this, and the Blessed One
responded, ‘I have said that meat that is not suitable by the three ways
should not be eaten. What are these three? Meat that has been seen to have
been prepared for one’s own sake is unsuitable to be eaten. Meat that you
have heard from trustworthy sources to have been prepared for your own sake
is unsuitable to be eaten. Meat that you think, based on suspicions that have
arisen in your mind, to have been prepared for your own sake is unsuitable to
be eaten.’26 (Emphasis added.)
In this account, it is not the consumption of meat that upsets the non-Buddhists,
but the consumption of meat that was killed specifically for the consumer. Thus, the
25
Many contemporary accounts describe these non-Buddhists as Jains, though I find nothing in this or
other canonical accounts to justify this specific attribution.
26
Shakyamuni, Foundations of the Vinaya, vol 3, 25a-25b.
For a translation of the corresponding passage from the Pali canon, which features several important
differences, see: Horner. The Book of the Discipline, 324-435.
[25a] sangs rgyas bcom ldan 'das yangs pa can gyi spre'u rdzing gi 'grim na khang pa ba rtsegs pa'i gnas na bzhugs
so/_/yangs pa can sde dpon seng go zhes bya ba zhig gnas te/_/de'i nyi 'khor na gnas pa rnams kyis de'i ched [25b]
du sha khyer te 'ongs nas de yang za bar byed do/_/gang gi tshe des bcom ldan 'das las bden pa mthong ba de'i tshe
mi za bas khyer te 'ongs nas yang dge slong rnams la sbyin par byed do/_/dge slong rnams kyis kyang de dag zos pa
dang mu stegs can rnams smod par byed/_gzhogs 'phyas byed/_kha zer bar byed de/_shes ldan dag sde dpon seng ge'i
ched du byas te sha khyer te 'ongs na ni des de dag ma zos la/_shAkya'i sras kyi dge sbyong rnams la byin pa dang
/_shAkya'i sras kyi dge sbyong rnams kyi ched du byas pa'i sha ni zos so zhesapa'i skabs de dge slong rnams kyis bcom
ldan 'das la gsol pa dang / bcom ldan 'das kyis bka' stsal pa / ngas gnas gsum gyis rung ba ma yin pa'i sha bza' bar
mi bya'o zhes gsungs pa gsum gang zhe na / bdag gi ched du byas par mngon du mthong ba rung ba ma yin pa'i sha
bza' bar mi bya'o zhes gsungs pa dang / yid ches pa las khyod kyi ched du byas pa yin no zhes thos pa rung ba ma yin
28
Buddha proscribes any meat that the monk even suspects was killed specifically for him,
but, by extension, allows monks to eat any meat that was not specifically slaughtered for
that monk. As will be discussed in the following chapters, there is considerable debate
among Tibetan commentators about the exact situations in which this rule applies.
Some, for instance, argue that since a butcher does not kill animals for one specific
person, any meat purchased in a butcher shop is permitted. Others argue that this meat
is forbidden and the only meat that truly meets the standards of threefold purity is meat
that comes from animals that have died naturally. For now, however, there are two key
points to draw from this story: the Buddha himself ate meat, and he allowed his monks to
eat meat.
Another, similar, story involves an attempt by Devadatta, the Buddha’s cousin
and frequent foil, to steal some of the Buddha’s followers and patrons for himself. In this
instance, Devadatta institutes a series of five austere practices among his followers,
including vegetarianism. Devadatta knows that the Buddha does not condone these
practices, and by promulgating them hopes to prove his own superior holiness.27 Again,
this account makes clear that the Buddha allowed his monks to eat meat.28
pa'i sha bza' bar mi bya'o zhes gsungs pa dang / rang nyid kyi blo la rnam par rtog pa skyes ba tshul las 'di ni bdag
gi ched du byas pa yin no snyam du rung ba ma yin pa'i sha bza' bar mi bya'o zhes gsungs pa yin no //
27
Shakyamuni, Foundations of the Vinaya, vol 4, 289a-289b.
Again, this paraphrased version is based primarily on the account contained in the Degé edition of Tibetan
canon. The version in the Pali canon differs in some important respects, however, including the fact that
the Buddha explicitly rejects Devadatta’s suggestion to mandate vegetarianism, terming it excessively
austere. For a translation of the Pali version, see: Horner, trans. Sacred Books of the Buddhists, vol 5. 275279.
28
Another famous account that has been extensively studied by western scholars features the contents of
the Buddha’s final meal, variously described as having been rancid pork, healthy pork or any of a variety of
29
As this dissertation is principally concerned with vegetarianism among Tibetans, I
have drawn primarily on the accounts preserved in the Tibetan recension of the Buddhist
canon, but similar stories occur in the Pali canon, as well as the Sarvāstivāda,
Dharmaguptaka and Mahīśāsaka recensions within the Chinese canon as well.29 The
complexity, diffusion and often contradictory nature of Buddhist canonical literature
makes it difficult to assess what the Buddha taught with any degree of certainty.
Nevertheless, as Chandra Prasad has noted, the wide diffusion of these episodes across
the various Buddhist canons probably indicates that they are derived from a very early
strata of Buddhist teachings.30 Thus, while it is impossible to say with certainty that the
Buddha did eat meat, and while some later texts explicitly claim that he did not, these
early accounts seem to suggest that the Buddha was comfortable with eating meat, as
long as he did not suspect that the meat had been specifically killed for him.
In addition to showing the Buddha’s own tolerance with meat, these stories also
make clear that this tolerance was at odds with other elements of India’s religious culture
at the time. Both Jain and Hindu traditions of this time contained significant provegetarian discourses.31 As Wendy Doniger has recently demonstrated, however,
mushrooms. While this is an interesting topic, the details of this debate are not immediately relevant, and I
have not mentioned it in this study out of concern for space.
See: Waley, Did the Buddha Die of Eating Pork?; Wasson & O’Flaherty, The Last Meal of the Buddha.
29
For translations from the corresponding passages from the Pali, see: Horner, Cullavagga, 275-279;
Horner, Mahavagga, 324-435.
For the corresponding passages from the Chinese, see: 十誦律 [Shi Song Lü, Sarvāstivāda Vinaya], Taisho
1435. 26. 190b; 四分律 [Si Fen Lü: Dharmaguptaka Vinaya], Taisho 1428. 22. 0872b;
彌沙塞部和醯五分律 [Mi Sha Sai Bu He Xi Wu Fen Lü, Mahīśāsaka Vinaya], Taisho 1421. 22. 149c
30
Prasad, “Meat-Eating and the Rule of Tikoṭiparisuddha,” 295
31
Alsdorf, Vegetarianism and Cow-Veneration in India, 6-23.
30
vegetarianism was never a foregone conclusion for Hindus of the Buddha’s time. At least
as early as the Upaniṣads, a tendency towards vegetarianism seems to have been tempered
by a recognition that meat eating is a normal part of life. Doniger highlights The Laws
of Manu as a good example of such ambivalence, “‘There is nothing wrong with eating
meat, nor drinking wine, nor sexual union, for this is how living beings engage in life, but
disengagement yields great fruit.’”32 For Hindus of this time, Doniger argues,
vegetarianism was commendable, but not mandatory.
The Buddha’s middle of the road approach to meat fits well in this context. He
uses the rule of threefold purity to restrict the consumption of meat, but refuses to ban it
entirely, seemingly to recognize that meat is problematic without mandating excessively
difficult austerities. Such a middle of the road approach to meat, however, led to
conflicts within the Buddhist community.
Some centuries after the Buddha’s death, a new Buddhist movement began to
emerge, later dubbed the Mahāyāna, or Great Vehicle, (in contrast to other teachings,
which were dubbed the Hīnayāna, or lesser vehicle).33 Among other differences,
Mahāyāna Buddhists revered the figure of the Bodhisattva, an advanced sage who had
renounced his own final liberation in order to benefit others. Among the chief attributes
32
Doniger, The Hindus, 319.
Doniger’s translation. Original passage from chapter 5, verse 56 of the Laws of Manu.
33
The exact time of the emergence of Mahāyāna ideas is debated by both scholars and practitioners, with
many suggesting that it was a gradual emergence over the course of centuries, rather than a sudden schism.
There is no room in this dissertation for a full analysis of the emergence of Mahāyāna Buddhism. Instead,
it is sufficient to know that strong voices opposing meat consumption were raised within a few centuries of
the Buddha’s death.
For details, see: Williams, Mahāyāna Buddhism.
31
of a Bodhisattva was an emphasis on compassion for others, typified by the Bodhisattvas’s
renunciation of their own final advancement to liberation in favor of helping others
progress on the path. Given this emphasis on compassion and placing the needs of
others above one’s own, it should not be surprising that vegetarianism found renewed
vigor among early Mahāyāna Buddhists.
There are several early Mahāyāna texts that advocate vegetarianism, but few do it
as forcefully or fully as the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra.34 This text, which D.T. Suzuki notes
could have been composed no later than the third century CE, when it was first
translated into Chinese, contains an entire chapter devoted to criticizing meat.35 Among
other arguments, this text asserts that meat is fundamentally incompatible with a
compassionate attitude.36 It also asserts, in direct contradiction to the accounts presented
above, that the Buddha himself never ate meat.37 Further, the text claims that any
assertion that meat is allowed is not a legitimate interpretation of the Vinaya code, but
simply an expression of desire, “They will think about the many aspects of the Vinaya,
their ego clinging will increase, and they will have a strong attachment to the taste [of
34
Eng: Sūtra of the Descent onto Lanka
Tib: lang kar gshegs pa'i mdo
In this work, I am relying on the version of the Lankāvatāra Sūtra contained in the Degé edition of the
Tibetan canon. While this Tibetan edition has not, to my knowledge, been translated, the Chinese edition
of the Lankāvatāra Sūtra, the earliest extant version, has been fully translated by Red Pine in 2012. (Red
Pine, Lankavatara Sutra) A Sanskrit version, dating to later than the Chinese, was translated in 1932 by
D.T. Suzuki. (Suzuki, Lankavatara Sutra)
35
Suzuki, Studies in the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra, 5.
36
Shakyamuni, Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra, 153a-153b.
37
Shakyamuni, Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra, 157a.
32
meat]. They will teach all kinds of reasons for eating meat, repeatedly denying that it is
impure.”38
This idea is taken further in another early Mahāyāna text, the Mahāparinirvāṇa
Sūtra,39 which Stephen Hodge has suggested was composed around the second century
CE.40 Like the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra, the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra directly critiques meat
consumption on the grounds that it is incompatible with the practice of compassion.
This text also directly critiques the validity of the rule of threefold purity, “Kaśyapa asked,
‘In the past, why did the Tathagata [the Buddha] permit the consumption of meat
examined in the three ways?’ The Buddha replied, ‘Kaśyapa, I allowed the consumption
of meat examined in the three ways as a means to gradually eliminate meat eating. … In
short, this was taught so that meat eating might be brought to an end.’”41 Thus, the
Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra argues that the rule of threefold purity was never meant to be
definitive, but was simply an expedient means of helping people move towards full
38
Shakyamuni, Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra, 156a.
'dul ba la rnam pa mang por rnam par rtog pa/_smra ba'i 'jig tshogs la lta ba rgyas pa/_ro'i sred pa la chags pa
rnams sha za ba'i gtan tshigs su snang ba/_de dang de dag ston te/_nga la yang yang dag pa ma yin par skur pa
'debs par sems so/
39
Eng: Sūtra of the Great, Final Nirvana
Tib: myang 'das chen po'i mdo
40
Hodge, Eschatology.
The text under consideration here is the version of the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra that belongs to the
Mahāyāna tradition, as preserved in the Tibetan canon. Another similarly named text, the
Mahaparinibbana Sutta, is preserved in the Pali canon, but its contents are largely different.
I have heard that Hodge has translated the entirety of the Tibetan version of the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra,
but this translation remains unpublished, and I have not been able to acquire a copy.
41
Shakyamuni, Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra, 57b.
'od srungs kyis gsol pa/ sngon bcom ldan 'das kyis sha brtag pa rnam gsum 'tshal du gnang ba ma lags sam/ bka' stsal
pa/ 'od srungs sha brtags pa rnam gsum zer gnang ba ni/ bags kyis bcad pa'i thabs su gsungs so/ … mdor na sha
bcad pa'i don du bstan pa yin no/
33
vegetarianism. As with the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra, the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra clearly shows
that vegetarianism was a vital issue for early followers of the Mahāyāna, and that it was a
point of debate with other Buddhist schools.
The arguments presented here will be discussed more fully in chapter two of this
dissertation, but for now it is important to note that Mahāyāna practitioners whose
concerns are reflected in the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra and Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra clearly felt
that meat was incompatible with Buddhism, to the point that they felt it necessary to
contradict assertions that the Buddha had eaten meat. Further, through its repeated
critiques of those who support the legitimacy of meat consumption, it is also clear that
these Sūtras were responding to a real debate in Buddhism as practiced at that time.
Another intriguing glimpse into vegetarianism in Buddhist India is provided by
the Chinese monk Yijing (653-713), who travelled in India between 673 and 689 CE.42
One of Yijing’s main purposes was to study the Vinaya as it was practiced in India at this
time, and when he returned, he reported that the Indian Buddhist leaders he had studied
with did not feel vegetarianism was necessary.43 Vegetarianism was already a well
established practice for Chinese Buddhists, and Yijing’s report seems to have been
intended as a critique of the way Buddhism was practiced by his own countrymen.44 Of
course, as Yijing did not visit every monastery in India, his report does not mean that
vegetarianism was unheard of among Indian Buddhists of the seventh century. For our
42
Ch: 義淨
43
Yijing, Record, 213.a06-213.a10. I-Tsing, Recond, 58.
44
Benn, Where Text Meets Flesh, 316.
34
purposes, however, it does demonstrate that despite the Mahāyāna objections to meat we
have seen in the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra and Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra, meat remained a
standard part of the diet for many Buddhist monks in India.
The texts cited here should not be taken as a definitive list of the sources available
for the study of vegetarianism in Buddhist India. Such a comprehensive analysis has
never been done, and while such a study is highly desirable, it is well beyond the scope of
this dissertation. What should be clear from the sources that have been presented here,
however, is that the question of whether or not monks should eat meat was not a settled
issue in India, either at the time of the Buddha himself or during later centuries. As we
will see, those same debates carried over into Tibet.
Vegetarianism in Chinese Buddhism
Before turning to vegetarianism in Tibet, it is worth addressing the history of this
practice in Chinese Buddhism. While Tibetan Buddhism is usually said to derive
primarily from Indian sources, it is also true that Chinese religious practices—and culture
more broadly—have had a strong influence on Tibet. Further, there are a number of
interesting convergences and divergences between the practice of vegetarianism in Tibet
and China which warrant a brief discussion of the latter.
If a truly comprehensive survey of the history of vegetarianism in Chinese
Buddhism remains unwritten, John Kieschnick’s article, “Buddhist Vegetarianism in
China” has gone a long way towards addressing this issue. Rather than repeating
35
Kieschnick’s work, therefore, I will limit myself to paraphrasing some of his key
conclusions. Chief among these is that vegetarianism became a standard practice in
Chinese Buddhism sometime in the fourth to fifth century CE. Kieschnick notes that
the Chinese edition of the Vinaya allows meat with threefold purity, but he also notes
that, under the influence of texts such as the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra, this came to be seen
as a provisional, rather than a definitive teaching.45 By the sixth century, biographies of
eminent monks reveal that vegetarianism had become common, but was still unusual
enough to warrant inclusion in a monk’s biography.46
Within the next century, vegetarianism had become the norm for Chinese
monastics, while most lay Buddhists continued to eat meat.47 This pattern was to
continue during the Song and Yuan Dynasties (960-1368). Barend Ter Haarh has noted
that while full vegetarianism was the norm for monks and nuns of this period, it was
restricted to particular holy days among lay people.48
By the late nineteenth century, however, vegetarianism had become a standard
practice among lay Buddhists, as well as among monastics. Eric Reinders has noted that
some Christian missionaries made eating meat a part of the ritual of conversion from
Buddhism to Christianity. Without eating meat, an individual’s conversion would be
incomplete and their Christian belief doubted.49 In some areas, at least—Reinders is
45
Kieschnick, “Buddhist Vegetarianism in China,” 188-189.
46
Kieschnick, “Buddhist Vegetarianism in China,” 194.
47
Kieschnick, “Buddhist Vegetarianism in China,” 201, 206.
48
ter Haarh, “Buddhist Inspired Options,” 132-3.
49
Reinders, “Blessed are the Meat Eaters,” 521-523.
36
discussing the region surrounding Shanghai—vegetarianism had become normative for
all Buddhists, so much so, in fact, that eating meat could be used as proof one had given
up Buddhism.
China is the only region where vegetarianism ever became normative for
Buddhists. Even there, however, there was at least one category of monks where meat
eating remained the norm: those monks whose discipline was focused on the practice of
the martial arts. In his study of Shaolin Monastery, perhaps the most famous redoubt of
such ‘martial’ monks, Meir Shahar has noted that while a certain group of core monks
have maintained a vegetarian diet since at least the eighteenth century, most other monks
at Shaolin ate meat regularly.50 Shahar notes this consumption of meat was justified by
the idea that meat was necessary for personal strength. Meat was so closely associated
with the development of physical prowess that these monks felt they must eat it in order
to be successful in their practice of the martial arts.
A similar idea can be found in one of China’s great literary works, The Water
Margin.51 Among the many characters in this novel is Lu Zhishen,52 a soldier of
superhuman strength who becomes a monk in order to escape capital punishment.53 Lu
Zhishen’s conduct does not conform to monastic norms, however, and he repeatedly
engages in combat, as well as epic bouts of drinking and meat eating. As with the monks
50
Shahar, Shaolin Monastery, 45-47.
51
Ch: 水滸傳
52
Ch: 花和尚
53
He kills a young man assaulting a woman, but is unjustly pursued by the young man’s father, a local
magistrate. Even the magistrate, however, is unable to punish someone who has become a monk.
37
of Shaolin, Lu Zhishen’s meat eating is intimately connected with his physical prowess.
This connection is so clear to those in the story, in fact, that his ability to eat large
amounts of meat is often held up as proof of his strength.54
For Lu Zhishen and the monks at Shaolin, there was a strong identification
between physical prowess and the consumption of meat. For a monk to become a martial
hero, therefore, they had to discard some of the rules of monastic life, including
vegetarianism. As will be discussed in chapter three of this dissertation, very similar
conceptions exist in Tibet, where male strength and martial prowess are often aligned
with the consumption of large quantities of meat.
A final aspect of Chinese Buddhist vegetarianism that should be noted here is the
pervasive concern with one’s own karma that seems to have been the driving force
propelling the adoption of vegetarianism. Kieschnick has noted that as early as the sixth
century, “the focus of the debate was on the general problem of karmic culpability for
eating animals killed by others.”55 Ter Haarh has also noted the central role of the idea
that eating meat created bad karma in motivating Chinese Buddhists.56 Reinders has
concluded that it was precisely this aspect of vegetarianism, the idea that one could
improve one’s future life through one’s own practice of vegetarianism, that incensed
nineteenth century Christian missionaries in Shanghai.57
54
Shi Nai’an & Luo Guanzhong. Shahar, Shaolin Monastery, 50.
55
Kieschnick, “Buddhist Vegetarianism in China,” 201.
56
ter Haarh, “Buddhist Inspired Options,” 134.
57
Reinders, “Blessed are the Meat Eaters,” 522-523.
38
The idea that eating meat creates negative karma is found, of course, in provegetarian discourses from many parts of the Buddhist world. The centrality of this
argument for Chinese Buddhist vegetarianism, however, distinguishes it from other
traditions, such as Tibetan Buddhism. As will be discussed in detail in the next chapter
of this dissertation, the central argument for vegetarianism found in most Tibetan works
involves the animal suffering eating meat entails and the prospect of negative karma for
the consumer is only invoked as a secondary, or even tertiary reason to adopt
vegetarianism.
Vegetarianism in Tibet
Imperial Period
According to traditional accounts, Buddhism was first introduced to Tibet in the
seventh and eighth centuries, under direct supervision of the Tibetan Emperors. Tibet
was a regional military power at the time, and hunting was widespread. Large, imperially
sponsored hunts, in fact, are frequently noted in historical materials from this period.58
Further, Tibetan religiosity at the time did not shy away from violence towards animals,
as can be seen in the rituals used to solemnize treaties between Tibet and China in 783
and 821, where the participants slaughtered many animals and smeared their own mouths
58
Dotson, “Princess and the Yak,” 70.
39
with the blood.59 Records of these treaties also contain unmistakable references to
Buddhism, making it clear that such animal sacrifices were not wholly opposed by
Buddhists.
I am only aware of a single reference to vegetarianism from this period, from The
Testament of Ba.60 This text, a history of Tri Songdetsen’s (742-796) reign at the height
of the Tibetan Imperial Period, claims to have been written by Ba (n.d.), one of the
emperor’s ministers. In this text, the author notes that, “At that time, Namchiwé Senggo
Lhalung Zik (n.d.), who had taken the vow of refraining from eating meat, drinking
alcohol and even eating butter, accompanied [Khenpo Bodhisattva] to Langné
Drutsuk.”61 In their analysis of this passage, Pasang Wangdu and Hildegard Diemberger
observe that namchi is the title of a common official.62 It thus seems likely that this
individual was a layperson, rather than a monk. It is also worth noting that in China at
this time, while Buddhist vegetarianism was largely limited to monks, abstaining from
meat and alcohol was sometimes used for non-Buddhist social reasons, such as
59
Liu Xu, Old Tang Annals, 5247-5249. Kapstein, “Treatise Temple,” 25. Richardson, Corpus, 126-127.
60
Some modern authors have claimed that, despite this contemporary evidence of animal sacrifice, the
emperors who supported Buddhism also supported vegetarianism, at least among the earliest monks.
Geshe Thubten Soepa, for instance, cites an edict in which the Emperor Tri Songdetsen says that monks
should avoid meat and alcohol. (Examining the Permissions and Prohibitions, 12) If true, this would be the
earliest reference to vegetarianism in Tibet that I have seen. The source of this quote, however, The
Chronicle of Padma, is unlikely to date to the Imperial Period. It is a terma, or treasure text, and as such
claims to have been written during the Imperial Period, and then hidden for centuries, until being
rediscovered by a pre-destined treasure revealer. In this case, this text was revealed by Orgyen Lingpa
(1326-n.d.) in 1346, and can only be reliably used as a source to describe this period.
61
Wangdu & Diemberger, dB’a Bzhed, 47, 133.
62
Wangdu & Diemberger, dB’a Bzhed, 47.
40
demonstrating mourning.63 Tibet and China had extensive contacts during this period,
and given that this text gives no indication of a Buddhist context for Senggo Lhalung
Zik’s vegetarianism as well as his status as a lay official, I suspect that he was vegetarian
for non-religious, or at least non-Buddhist reasons. Still, this passage, assuming that it
does, in fact, date to the Imperial Period, at least demonstrates that vegetarianism was
known during that period.
Unfortunately, we cannot make this assumption, as scholars have disputed the
dating of The Testament of Ba, with some arguing that it could have been written as late as
the fourteenth century.64 Recently, however, Sam van Schaik and Kazushi Iwao have
discovered a small fragment of the text contained in the materials unearthed at
Dunhuang, indicating that at least a portion of the text dates to no later than the first
decade of the eleventh century, when the caves at Dunhuang were sealed.65 It is
impossible to know for certain whether the single reference to vegetarianism in this text
dates to this period, or whether it is a later interpolation. Still, the nature of the
reference, seemingly unconnected to the Buddhist discourses which govern all later
vegetarian references in Tibet, and in the absence of evidence to the contrary, suggests to
me that it could well date to the Imperial Period.
63
Kieschnick, “Buddhist Vegetarianism in China,” 193.
64
Martin, Tibetan Histories, 23.
65
van Schaik & Iwao, “Fragments.”
41
Second Dissemination
When compared with the situation during the imperial period, references to
Tibetan vegetarianism improve somewhat during the period known as the second
dissemination. This name is derived from an understanding that Buddhism declined and
became corrupted by violence following the collapse of the empire in the mid-ninth
century, requiring a new transmission from India for rejuvenation. While modern
scholarship has cast doubt on the idea of a decline, there can be no question that,
beginning in the eleventh century, Indian Buddhist leaders and their Tibetan disciples
exerted a strong influence on the direction Tibetan Buddhism would take.66
Among the most famous and influential of these Indian figures was Atiśa
Dīpaṃkara-śrījñāna (980-1054). Atiśa travelled to Tibet in the late 1030s, and spent the
rest of his life teaching Buddhism there. Among the texts he purportedly left behind is
The Book of Kadam, a series of dialogues between himself and his main Tibetan disciple,
Dromtön Gyelwé Jungné (1004-1064). Among other themes, including a general
concern with the proper performance of ethical discipline and monastic vows, The Book of
Kadam repeatedly critiques meat. As an example, Atiśa says of unnamed others, “They
claim to belong to the Mahāyāna, but they disrespect the fundamentals: the profound law
of cause and effect. They eat the three foods of outcastes: meat, alcohol and garlic.”67
66
On the notion of the decline of Buddhism after the empire, see: Dalton, Taming of the Demons; Kapstein,
The Tibetan Assimilation of Buddhism.
67
Anonymous, Book of Kadam, 45. Jinpa, Book of Kadam, 99.
rang theg pa chen por khas blangs nas/ gzhi las ‘bras zab mo khyad bsad de/ zas sha chang sgog gsum gdol pa’i zas/
42
In this and other passages, The Book of Kadam is clear in its opinion that meat is a
sinful substance not suitable for those who aspire to practice Mahāyāna Buddhism. As
with other texts from this period, however, it is unclear how much of the text was actually
composed by Atiśa and Dromtön. The translator and scholar Thubten Jinpa has noted
that while the final redaction of the text known to us today dates only to 1302, a
significant core of the text probably does date to recorded conversations between Atiśa
and Dromtön in the eleventh century.68 If this is the case, given the widespread
condemnation of meat in various parts of the text, it seems likely that Atiśa and his heirs
advocated, and presumably practiced, vegetarianism in early eleventh century Tibet.
Writing less than a century after Atiśa and Dromtön, Metön Sherab Özer (10581132) included a critique of meat in his Vinaya Compendium. Sherab Özer was not a
Buddhist, but a leader of Bön, the pre-Buddhist religion of Tibet. As we have seen,
Tibetan religious practices from the Imperial Period did not shy away from harming
animals. By the eleventh and twelfth centuries, however, Bön religiosity in Tibet had
turned away from its shamanic origins and begun embracing Buddhist style
monasticism.69 Sherab Özer was a seminal member of this movement, and his Vinaya
Compendium is frequently quoted in later Bön Vinaya commentaries. For this reason, it is
worth quoting his anti-meat arguments in full:
By definition, this thing called ‘meat’ comes from the killing of animals.
Being without mercy sends one to hell. With great regret, abandon
68
Jinpa, Book of Kadam, 25-28.
69
Cech, “A Bonpo Bca’ Yig,” 69.
43
eating [meat]. The causes and conditions of this thing called ‘meat’ are
the white and red [conjugal substances] of both a father and mother. If
you saw this with your eyes, you would tremble with fear. How pitiful
it would be to take it in your hands! Just smelling it brings on nausea.
Once it is tasted by the tongue, how can it be kept down? For these
reasons, it should be abandoned.70
This passage touches on arguments that we will see repeated through later
centuries, including the equation of meat with killing, the negative karmic repercussions
of eating meat, and the fact that the meat on the table once had a mother and father. It
is worth noting that Sherab Özer’s critique of meat is contained in a work addressed to
monks. As will be discussed in detail in chapter three, Tibetan vegetarianism is often
strongly connected to the practice of monasticism.
Atiśa and Dromtön were not the only Buddhist leaders from this period who were
practicing vegetarianism.71 At least two disciples of Pakmodrupa (1110-1170), Jikten
Sumgön (1143-1217) and Taklung Tangpa (1142-1209), are also said to have practiced
vegetarianism. Both of these figures were later regarded as lineage founders, and,
70
I have not managed to locate a complete copy of this text. This passage is quoted in the fifteenth century
work: mnyam med shes rab rgyal mtshan, Commentary on the Received Vinaya, p 49.
sha zhes bya ba’i mtshan nyid ni/ sems can srog gcod rgyu las byung/ snying rje med pas dmyal bar ltung/ shin tu ya
nga mi bza’ spang/ sha zhes bya ba’i rgyu rkyen ni/ pha ma gnyis kyi dkar dmar yin/ mig gi mthong na skyi re ‘jigs/
lag tu blang na ya re nga/ sna yi dri tshor skyug re bro/ lce yi ro la blang nas su/ khong tu stim pa’i lugs ci yod/ de yi
phyir yang spang bar rigs/ zhes sogs dang/
71
Another famed Tibetan figure from this period who modern Tibetans often cite as a vegetarian is
Milarepa (1052-1135). The evidence of his vegetarianism, however, is thin. I am aware of only one of
Milarepa’s recorded poems that claims he is a vegetarian. (Milarepa, Drinking the Mountain Stream, 37)
At the same time, however, early biographies of Milarepa, such as Dorjé Dzeö’s Great Kagyü Biographies of
1245 recall Milarepa eating meat with some frequency. (rdo rje mdzes ‘od, great Kagyü Biographies.
Khenpo Konchog Gyaltsen, Great Kagyü Masters.) My suspicion is that Milarepa’s pro-vegetarianism
poems is an exception, and possibly a later interpolation.
44
especially in the case of Jikten Sumgön, their modern72 successors have been at the
forefront of the modern Tibetan vegetarian movement.
Evidence that both of these figures practiced vegetarianism comes from The Blue
Annals, a massive history of Tibetan Buddhism compiled in 1478 by Gö Lotsawa (13921481).73 For Jikten Sumgön, corroborating evidence also comes from the much earlier
Great Kagyü Biographies, where he is said to have advised his followers to avoid meat,
even in the context of tantric ritual.74 Based on an internal analysis of this text, John
Roberts has claimed that while the text’s final form was established in 1344 by Dorjé
Dzeö (14th century), the portion of the text that includes Jikten Sumgön’s biography was
written in 1245 by Ritrö Wangchuk (13th century), a direct disciple of Jikten Sumgön.75
The text thus provides strong, early evidence that Jikten Sumgön asked his disciples to
avoid meat, and presumably practiced vegetarianism himself. While the evidence is
fragmentary, it does seem that vegetarianism was a known, if optional, aspect of Buddhist
practice during the eleventh to thirteenth centuries.
Renaissance
By the fourteenth century, we start to see more widespread references to
vegetarianism. Again, The Blue Annals offers important insight into the vegetarianism of
72
Throughout this work I use the term ‘modern’ in a loose, non-technical, sense, generally to refer to the
period following the Chinese invasion of the early 1950s.
73
‘gos lo zhon nu dpal, Blue Annals, 707, 727. Roerich, Blue Annals, 599, 619.
74
rdo rje mdzes ‘od, great Kagyü Biographies, 425. Khenpo Konchog Gyaltsen, Great Kagyü Masters, 254.
75
Roberts, Biographies of Rechungpa, 9-11.
45
this period, with references to at least four vegetarians from the fourteenth century.
Perhaps the most important of these is the fourth Karmapa Hierarch, Rolpé Dorjé
(1340-1383). Rolpé Dorjé was one of the most important religious figures in Tibet at
the time, and according to The Blue Annals, “He guarded his monastic commitments with
great subtlety, not allowing even a hair’s breadth of meat or wine into his presence.”76
What The Blue Annals does not tell us, however, is how many of the Rolpé Dorjé’s
disciples also adopted vegetarianism. Indeed, while this text mentions four vegetarians
active in the fourteenth century, it also includes biographies of dozens of non-vegetarian
lamas from this same period. Clearly, vegetarianism was not the norm. That said, when
a lama of the Karmapa’s stature adopts a strict vegetarian diet, it seems likely that some of
his followers would have followed suit. This is the case in the modern context, where a
relatively small number of charismatic lamas have adopted vegetarianism, but a much
larger number of their disciples have followed suit. It is also the case with those few premodern lamas who have provided details about the numbers of their vegetarian disciples.
Shabkar Tsokdruk Rangdröl (1781-1851), for instance, claims that of his eighteen
hundred disciples, three hundred followed him in adopting vegetarianism.77 I see no
reason why this pattern would be different in the fourteenth century. Thus, while neither
The Blue Annals nor any other source specify numbers of vegetarians, it seems likely that
76
‘gos lo zhon nu dpal, Blue Annals, 592. Roerich, Blue Annals, 499.
‘dul ba’i bcas pa phra mo rnams kyang bsrung zhing/ sha dang chang spu rtse tsam yang spyan lam du mi ‘grim/
77
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Autobiography, 480b. Shabkar, Life of Shabkar, 542.
46
there would have been at least a reasonable number of vegetarians in the retinue of figures
such as Karmapa Rolpé Dorjé.
If the actual numbers of vegetarians during this period remains a topic of debate,
the context in which vegetarianism was adopted is more clear: vegetarianism was a
practice for monks. Atiśa, for instance, suggests, “As for enjoying meat and alcohol:
Look through the section of the Sūtras on monastic conduct. If permission is strongly
granted, then it is acceptable. But the teachings of the Buddha are never deceived.”78
Perhaps taking this advice to heart, figures such as Jikten Sumgön, Taklung Tangpa and
Karmapa Rolpé Dorjé all adopted vegetarianism at the time they took monastic
ordination. For his part, Metön Sherab Özer included his critique of meat in a
commentary on the Bön Vinaya.
Writing only a few decades after Karmapa Rolpé Dorjé, the seminal Gelukpa
scholar Khedrub Jé (1385-1438) also incorporated vegetarianism into his vision of
monasticism. In his Outline of the Three Vows, he states, “Some say, ‘The Vinaya says it is
suitable to eat meat out of desire for the taste.’ We would never say this. Even in a
dream, I would never say this is not a fault.”79 Khedrup thus forbids monks to eat meat
under normal circumstances (when it is eaten out of desire), but allows it in others,
thinking, perhaps, of situations of dire need, or about those practitioners who have
78
Anonymous, Book of Kadam, 96. Jinpa, Book of Kadam, 174.
sha khrag chang gi longs spyod rnams/ ‘dul ba mdo sde rab ltos la/ gnang shas che na rung ba yin/ sangs rgyas gsung
ni slu med yin/
79
I have not yet found this passage in Khedrub’s original text. This passage is taken from a citation in:
thub bstan bsod pa, Examining the Rules, 11.
47
entirely transcended desire. While this is not a complete rejection of meat, it enshrines
the idea that meat is sinful under normal circumstances in one of the Geluk school’s most
important works on the monastic vows.
Finally, there was a strong tradition of vegetarianism among Bönpo of this time,
again associated with monasticism. In 1404, Nyammé Sherab Gyeltsen (1356-1415)
founded Menri monastery, which quickly became the most important monastery in Bön.
Drawing on Metön Sherab Özer’s earlier works, Nyammé Sherab Gyeltsen wrote an
important commentary on the Vinaya, A Commentary on the Received Vinaya, in which he
says that monks must not eat meat, memorably declaring, “meat is a food of sinful
demons.”80 As with many other references from this time period, Nyammé Sherab
Gyeltsen’s critique of meat is intimately bound up with the monastic code.
This connection between vegetarianism and monasticism recurs again during later
periods, but seems to have been particularly strong during the thirteenth through
fifteenth centuries. While there are exceptions to this pattern—The Blue Annals recounts
two individuals whose vegetarianism was associated with retreat, rather than monasticism
per se—vegetarianism was primarily a monastic phenomenon. This is striking, as the
Vinaya explicitly permits monks to eat meat, at least under certain circumstances. The
reasons why, despite these permissions, vegetarianism became embedded in monastic
ideals will be explored in detail in chapter four of this dissertation, but given the
sha yi ro la chags pa'i dbang gis sha za rung bar 'dul ba las gnang ngo zhes kho bo cag ni rnam pa thams cad du mi
smra'o/_de lta bu la skyon med ces kho bo ni rmi lam du yang mi smra'o//
80
mnyam med shes rab rgyal mtshan, Received Vinaya, 50.
sdig can bdud rigs kyi kha zas su gyur pa’i sha ‘di ni/
48
importance of this relationship in Tibetan vegetarianism of this period, it is worth
emphasizing here as well.
The fourteenth century also features the first text I am aware of specifically
dedicated to promoting vegetarianism, Dolpopa Sherab Gyeltsen’s (1292-1361)
Prohibition of Meat and Alcohol. Most critiques of meat from this period are only a few
lines long, but Dolpopa’s text devotes ten of its seventeen pages to opposing meat (the
first seven pages are dedicated to alcohol), allowing us important insight into the
arguments for and against meat that were current in this period. Initially, it is worth
noting that Dolpopa’s text is structured around the three vows that Tibetan monks
take—Monastic, Bodhisattva and Tantric—explaining why meat is unsuitable according
to each system. Like the sources surveyed above, therefore, Dolpopa’s critique is firmly
connected to ideas about monasticism and what is, or is not, permitted for monks.
In terms of the arguments themselves, Dolpopa’s chief concern is that eating meat
contradicts the compassion expected of someone who has adopted the Bodhisattva vow
(as all Tibetan monks do). He notes in a single line of text that meat with threefold
purity is permitted in the Vinaya, but then immediately moves into an extended
discussion of the incompatibility of even this type of meat with the compassion required
of those with the Bodhisattva vow.81 Dolpopa also argues that in general, the Mahāyāna
precepts are still in place in a Tantric context, so meat should not be eaten.82
81
dol po pa shes rab rgyal mtshan, Prohibition, 659-665. Mochizuki, “Scriptures,” 36-41.
82
dol po pa shes rab rgyal mtshan, Prohibition, 665-668. Mochizuki, “Scriptures,” 41-44.
49
Less than a century later, Ngorchen Künga Zangpo (1382-1444), the founder of
the Ngor branch of the Sakya school, also wrote a text explicitly criticizing meat, A Letter
to Benefit Students. This work largely follows Dolpopa’s arguments, asserting that meat is
incompatible with a compassionate orientation. Also like Dolpopa, Ngorchen Künga
Zangpo structures his text around the three sets of vows Tibetan monks take, with one
section dedicated to a discussion of meat according to each set of vows.83 Once again,
this text demonstrates the close relationship between vegetarianism and monasticism
during this period.
Between Dolpopa and Ngorchen Künga Zangpo, we have our first detailed
glimpse of why an individual might become vegetarian. The detailed arguments provided
by these texts, however, also give insight into the arguments used to support eating meat.
These arguments, pro and con, will be discussed in detail in chapters two and three of
this dissertation, but it is worth mentioning the existence of these texts here as well.
Jigmé Lingpa, Shabkar and the Eighteenth Century
As should be clear by now, vegetarianism experienced a sustained level of interest
throughout the thirteenth to fifteenth centuries. The first texts specifically condemning
meat and praising vegetarianism were composed during this time and the diet was
encouraged by figures as prominent as Dolpopa, Karmapa Rolpé Dorjé, Ngorchen Künga
Zangpo and Khedrup Jé. Following this period, however, references to vegetarianism
become much less common. This could be because the practice became common enough
83
ngor chen kun dga’ bzang po, Letter to Benefit Students.
50
that it no longer warranted attention in official biographies, but given that vegetarians
never seem to have risen beyond minority status in Tibet, this seems unlikely. It seems
more likely that the practice simply experienced a lower level of popularity than it had
previously. Indeed, vegetarianism does not seem to have experienced a level of interest
comparable to the thirteenth through fifteenth centuries until its re-emergence in the
eastern Tibetan region of Kham during the nineteenth century.
This should not suggest that vegetarianism disappeared, however. Scattered
references remain, including one fascinating story found in British explorer Samuel
Turner’s account of a visit to Bhutan. In 1783, Turner, only the second Englishman to
enter Tibet (at least in an official capacity), was sent by the East India Company as an
ambassador to the court of the Panchen Lama. Along the way, he spent some time in the
court of Jigmé Sengé (1742-1789), king of Bhutan. While there the king explained the
lack of meat in his diet, “My food consists of the very simplest articles, grain, roots of the
earth, and fruits. I never eat of any thing that has had breath, for then I should be the
indirect cause of putting an end to the existence of animal life, which, by our religion, is
forbidden.”84 Turner, perhaps comparing Jigmé Sengé’s diet with those enjoyed by
European royalty, was suitably impressed. His account, published in 1800, was the most
important description of Tibet available in Europe for several decades, and strongly
influenced a generation of European scholars. One such scholar was the encyclopedist
Frederic Shoberl, who wrote in 1824, “Hence we may infer that all sorts of animal food
84
Turner, Embassy, 82.
51
are forbidden to the religious, who abstain also from every kind of strong liquors.”85 For a
time, it seems, many Europeans believed that all Tibetan monks were vegetarian.
More significantly for the history of vegetarianism in Tibet, the Nyingma
luminary Jigmé Lingpa (1730-1798) was a strong proponent of vegetarianism. Jigmé
Lingpa was a prolific author who lived most of his life in Central Tibet. He became a
monk while still young, but quickly abandoned his vows for a non-celibate lifestyle
typical. In his mid-twenties, he undertook two three year retreats during which he
received, in a series of visions, the cycle of teachings and practices known as the Heart
Essence of the Vast Expanse. This text would go on to become his most famous revelation
and one of the most widely used practice cycles in the Nyingma school of Tibetan
Buddhism.
Throughout his adult life, Jigmé Lingpa displayed a striking level of concern and
empathy towards animals. This is seen in his response to animal suffering—most notably
in an early scene in which the sight of sheep awaiting slaughter provokes a religious
experience he terms, “the most important event of my life.”86 Further, he frequently
purchases animals in order to prevent their slaughter, and once even buys an entire mountain
in order to stop the killing of bees for their honey.87 Finally, Jigmé Lingpa repeatedly
encourages others, including powerful politicians and patrons, to stop hunting. Jigmé
85
Shoberl, Tibet, and India Beyond the Ganges, 26.
86
‘jigs med gling pa, Autobiography, 14.
di bdag gi rnam thar bzang shos yin/
87
‘jigs med gling pa, Autobiography, 281.
52
Lingpa clearly had an unusual degree of empathy for animals, and he repeatedly tried to
pass this on to his students.
As part of this project, Jigmé Lingpa consistently criticized the consumption of
meat, declaring, “Meat is sinful food, so think of it with deathly fear.”88 In articulating
this critique, Jigmé Lingpa focuses on generating an empathetic response towards animal
suffering, often using vivid descriptions of animal suffering. In his Autobiography, for
instance, he recounts that animals awaiting slaughter, “tremble with fear, panting for
breath with tears streaming from their eyes. In that state they wonder what to do. Alas,
there is no refuge!”89 Jigmé Lingpa’ propensity to directly challenge his audience’s ability
to empathize with animals contrasts with previous generations of Tibetan vegetarians,
who tended to emphasize the incompatibility of meat with a monastic vocation. As
mentioned above, for most of his career Jigmé Lingpa was not a monk, and he structured
his arguments in a way that applied to all, irregardless of their ordination status.
Interestingly, however, it is unclear if Jigmé Lingpa himself was a vegetarian. In
An Ocean of Wondrous Advice for Mountain Retreat, Jigmé Lingpa recalls eating meat
during his own retreats, after purifying it with mantras.90 Further, his Autobiography,
which otherwise emphasizes Jigmé Lingpa’s compassion towards animals, makes no
88
‘jigs med gling pa, Well-Established Rabbit, 772.
sha ni sdig pa’i zas yin pas/ gsad pa’i ‘jigs pa dran par bya/
89
‘jigs med gling pa, Autobiography, 125-126.
ma rgan de dag lus 'dar phri li li/ mig mchi ma khram khram/ dbugs spud pa lhed lhed pa'i ngang nas 'di snyam du/
da ci drag kyi hud/ 'bros sa ni med/
90
‘jigs med gling pa, Ocean of Wondrous Advice, 705. Rigdzin Jigme Lingpa, Wondrous Ocean of Advice, 5.
53
mention of a vegetarian diet at any point in his life. If Jigmé Lingpa was a vegetarian,
even for just a short time, it seems likely that he would mention this.
One particularly interesting source for this discussion of Jigmé Lingpa’s own
vegetarianism is his short Tale of the Deer. In this text, written when Jigmé Lingpa was in
his early thirties, he presents a dialogue between two figures, a hermit and a hunter.91
The hermit critiques the hunter for his immoral conduct, while the hunter argues that it
is the hermit who is truly immoral, because it is his desire to buy meat that motivates the
hunter’s actions.92 In the exchange, we can almost see Jigmé Lingpa arguing with himself
over the question of eating meat. Ultimately, the hermit wins the debate, but in the
process he acknowledges the validity of the hunter’s argument, perhaps reflecting Jigmé
Lingpa’s ultimate decision to continue eating meat, while also reflecting his recognition
that by doing so he is implicated in unethical activity. While it is unclear if Jigmé Lingpa
himself was a vegetarian, there can be little doubt that he saw such a diet as morally
superior, and he actively encouraged others to take it up.
Active roughly half a century after Jigmé Lingpa, Shabkar Tsokdrük Rangdröl
also penned several strong critiques of meat. Shabkar was born and raised in Amdo, but
spent many years of his life on pilgrimage to the holy sites of Ü and Tsang, though he
never made it to Kham. Unlike Jigmé Lingpa, it is clear that Shabkar himself was a
practicing vegetarian for most of his life. In his Autobiography, he claims to have been
91
This text is undated, but Jigmé Lingpa’s Autobiography mentions that it was composed shortly after his
retreats concluded (160).
92
‘jigs med gling pa, Tale of the Deer, 759. Jigme Lingpa, Story of the Hunted Deer, 7.
54
distressed by animal suffering early in his life.93 Later, during an extended pilgrimage to
Lhasa, Shabkar was upset by the sight of some sheep prepared for slaughter and took a
vow never to eat meat again. Shabkar’s vegetarianism is so strict that his patrons were
afraid to even let him see meat.94
Interestingly, both Shabkar and Jigmé Lingpa had strong responses to the sight of
sheep prepared for slaughter. Encounters like this, in fact, became something of a trope,
repeated by many individuals over the following centuries. Shabkar lived half a century
after Jigmé Lingpa, and was well versed in Jigmé Lingpa’s writings. In his Autobiography,
he recalls being exposed to some of Jigmé Lingpa’s teachings at an early age.95 Further,
he specifically cites Jigmé Lingpa’s own Autobiography in his works on vegetarianism,
indicating his familiarity with this work.96 It is, therefore, likely that Shabkar was
familiar with Jigmé Lingpa’s encounter with the sheep, and with Jigmé Lingpa’s
encouragement to others to respond similarly. This does not, of course, mean that
Shabkar was mimicking Jigmé Lingpa, but I cannot help but wonder if Shabkar was
interpreting his experiences through a lens provided by Jigmé Lingpa.
Wherever his motivation came from, Shabkar went on to become one of the most
well known vegetarians in Tibetan history. In his descriptive catalog of Shabkar’s
writings, Matthieu Ricard describes them as, “The most sweeping indictment of meat
93
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Autobiography, 16b. Shabkar, Life of Shabkar, 18.
94
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Autobiography, 201a-201b. Shabkar, Life of Shabkar, 232.
95
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Autobiography, 19b. Shabkar, Life of Shabkar, 21.
96
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Wondrous Emanated Scripture, 62-63. Shabkar. Food of Bodhisattvas,
85-86.
55
eating to be found in Tibetan literature.”97 The same catalog notes three different texts
dedicated wholly, or in large part, to a discussion of meat, and many others that treat on
the topic in passing.98 Like Jigmé Lingpa, Shabkar’s arguments focus primarily on the
incompatibility of meat and compassion, offering vivid descriptions of animal suffering.
He discusses the incompatibility of meat with monastic and Bodhisattva vows on several
occasions, but his writing tends to privilege emotional reflection on animal suffering
instead of legalistic arguments about such vows.
It is also clear that Shabkar played an important role in the later spread of
vegetarianism in his native region of Amdo. His Autobiography notes that three hundred
of his eighteen hundred disciples adopted vegetarianism.99 Some of these disciples
would, presumably, have transmitted a vegetarian ideal to their own students. Evidence
for such a transmission, and, indeed, for vegetarianism in Amdo in the century following
Shabkar’s death, is thin, however. Without further evidence, therefore, it is impossible to
know the extent of Shabkar’s influence on vegetarianism in Amdo.
Between Jigmé Lingpa and Shabkar, we can see something of a shift in the
arguments used by pro-vegetarian authors. Prior figures had framed the debate largely in
terms of whether or not meat was allowed for monks. Following Jigmé Lingpa and
Shabkar, however, the focus turned towards the importance of compassion, with a strong
emphasis on the emotional impact of witnessing animals in distress. Both Jigmé Lingpa
97
Ricard, Catalog, 21-22.
98
Ricard, Catalog, 21-22, 31.
99
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Autobiography, 481a. Shabkar, Life of Shabkar, 542.
56
and Shabkar agree that meat is inappropriate for monks, and earlier figures such as
Dolpopa and Ngorchen Künga Zangpo clearly associate vegetarianism with compassion.
There is a shift in emphasis, however, between Jigmé Lingpa and Shabkar on the one
hand and Dolpopa, Ngorchen Künga Zangpo and other early vegetarians on the other
hand, with the former emphasizing the suffering animals undergo and the latter
emphasizing the rules for monks. The details of these two arguments will be discussed
fully in the next chapter, but it is important to note the shift here as well.
Before turning our attention to the rise of vegetarianism in nineteenth century
Kham, it is worth returning briefly to the Bön monastery of Menri, located in Central
Tibet. We noted above that Menri’s founder, Nyammé Sherab Gyeltsen, promoted
vegetarianism in his commentary on the Vinaya. As a Vinaya commentary, however, this
text was meant to be applied to all monks, not only those at Menri. In 1810, however,
Kudön Sönam Lodrö (1784-1835) reinforced the connections between Menri and
vegetarianism by writing A Menri Customary, a customary, or monastic rulebook, for
Menri.100 Rather than discuss the rules under which all monks should live, as the Vinaya
and its commentaries do, customaries such as this one delineate the rules of conduct at a
specific monastery and often deal with such prosaic topics as seating arrangements,
monastic dress, and so forth. In addition to these, the Menri Customary also notes that
monks, “may not eat meat, alcohol, garlic or onions.”101 Kudön Sönam Lodrö based his
100
Krystyna Cech has noted evidence of a similar customary written by Nyammé Sherab Gyeltsen himself,
but I have not been able to locate a copy. (“A Bönpo bCa’ Yig,” 70)
101
Cech, “A Bönpo bCa’ Yig,” 74, 80.
kha zas sde la mang thun sha dang yu ti chang/ sgog gcong rigs/ phyi dro'i kha zas
57
work on Metön Sherab Özer and Nyammé Sherab Gyeltsen’s Vinaya commentaries, so it
should not be surprising that he repeats these authors’ positions. It is notable, however,
that this text elevates these authors’ opposition to meat from the level of a suggested
practice to a (theoretically) binding rule.
Still, we should not take the existence of this text to mean that all monks at Menri
were vegetarian. Indeed, this text is still in use at present day Menri Monastery in
Dolanji, India, and while there is a sense that meat is frowned upon inside the monastery,
monks may eat as they please outside the monastery, and often eat meat clandestinely
within the monastery as well.102 Thus, the presence of the Menri Customary does not
mean that all present day monks at Menri are vegetarian, and it is reasonable to assume
that this was the case in the past as well. Nevertheless, this text makes clear that
vegetarianism was maintained as an ideal among Bönpo monastics well into the
nineteenth century.
Nineteenth and Twentieth Century Kham
Having seemingly faded in Central Tibet after the fifteenth century,
vegetarianism re-emerged as a widespread practice in the eastern Tibetan region of Kham
during the mid-nineteenth century. Kham, separated from Central Tibet by a rugged
journey of several months, had long been seen as something of a cultural backwater by the
scholars and exegetes of Central Tibet. As Jann Ronis has demonstrated, however,
102
Personal communication with Jed Verity, August 2012. In a telling anecdote, Verity reports that one
monk asked for a piece of beef jerky, then asked him to not tell anyone about it.
58
Kham experienced a sustained religious revival beginning in the seventeenth century.
Centered on the kingdom of Degé, but incorporating many independent kingdoms as
well, this movement raised the profile of religious practice in Kham, entwining religious
devotion with political power and needs.103 Drawing on influences provided by Shabkar,
Menri Monastery and, most importantly, Jigmé Lingpa, lamas from this region began
adopting vegetarianism on a relatively widespread basis in the mid-nineteenth century.
The political and social contexts for the movement will be discussed in detail in chapter
five of this dissertation, so for now I will content myself with a historical survey of
vegetarians in Kham.
The fact that vegetarianism emerged as a widespread movement in the nineteenth
century, however, does not mean that there were no vegetarians in Kham prior to that
period. Before looking at their nineteenth century heirs, therefore, it is worth examining
what seems to have been a locally powerful movement towards vegetarianism centered on
Pelyül Monastery. According to A Garland of Wish-Fulfilling Trees, Tsering Lama
Jampel Zangpo’s (1900- ?) biographical history of Pelyül monastery in Kham, this
monastery’s first two abbots, Künzang Sherab (1636-1698) and Padma Lhündrub Gyatso
(1659-1727), were both vegetarian and encouraged the practice among their disciples.104
103
104
Ronis, Celibacy.
tshe ring bla ma 'jam dpal bzang po, Immortal Wish-Fulfilling Trees, 45, 67. Tsering Lama Jampal
Zangpo, Garland of Immortal Wish-Fulfilling Trees, 63, 76.
It is worth noting that at least one other biographical history of Pelyül, An Abridged History of Glorious
Pelyül, by the current abbot, Tülku Tübten Pelzang (c. 1930s- ), does not mention vegetarianism in its
account of either of these figures, despite vegetarianism being widespread in modern-day Pelyül.
Combined with the absence of any mention of meat in Künzang Sherab’s Torch of the Teachings on the Three
Vows, this may cast doubt on Tsering Lama Jampel Zangpo’s account.
59
At the same time, it is unclear how important this vegetarianism was. In
Künzang Sherab’s commentary on the cycle of monastic vows, A Torch for the Three Vows,
he argues that not harming others is one of the core practices of Buddhism, and he
includes farming and cutting animals’ hair as examples of the type of practice that causes
harm and should be abandoned.105 He does not, however, include any comments on
eating meat, possibly indicating that even if he was a vegetarian, it was not a key aspect of
his practice.
On the other hand, there is at least one piece of evidence composed during this
time that does suggest that vegetarianism was a known practice in the region. Karma
Chakmé (1613-1678), a famed meditator intimately associated with Pelyül, goes to great
lengths in his biography of Migyur Dorjé (1645-1667), to justify the latter’s consumption
of meat, saying that since Migyur Dorjé was a realized being rather than an ordinary
person, he was not bound by ordinary rules.106 While this passage does not explicitly
claim that Karma Chakmé, or anyone else, was a vegetarian, it does suggest that he was
uncomfortable enough with meat eating to feel he had to justify it in his depiction of
Migyur Dorjé. While it is unclear if anyone else shared Karma Chakmé’s discomfort
with meat, this passage at least suggests that there may have been a culture of
vegetarianism, or at least discomfort with meat, in the Pelyül area at the time the
monastery was founded.
105
106
kun bzang shes rab, Torch.
karma chags med, Biography of Migyur Dorjé, 242. Karma Chagme, All-Pervading Melodious Sound of
Thunder, 133.
60
Such a reading would fit well with Jampel Zangpo’s assertions regarding Künzang
Sherab and Padma Lhündrub Gyatso, and would also predate the emergence of
vegetarianism in other parts of Kham by almost two centuries. No later figures in Jampel
Zangpo’s account, however, are portrayed as vegetarians, suggesting, perhaps, that even if
vegetarianism was important for the founders of Pelyül, that tradition may have been
discontinued prior to the nineteenth century. Without further evidence, therefore, it
seems that the vegetarian tradition at Pelyül was a localized tradition, with little influence
on the later flourishing of vegetarianism in Kham.
Of far more importance were the writings and teaching lineage of Jigmé Lingpa.
Jigmé Lingpa’s influence in Kham began during his own life, despite never traveling to
the region personally. His Autobiography recalls that the king and queen of Degé visited
him regularly and sponsored the production of printing blocks for his writings, greatly
easing their dissemination across Kham.107 Jigmé Lingpa belonged to the Nyingma sect,
and his influence in Degé grew so strong that, after the king’s death, members of the
Sakya school used the queen’s devotion to him as an excuse to remove her from power.108
Above, I have suggested that despite his pro-vegetarian rhetoric, Jigmé Lingpa
may not have been a vegetarian himself. Whether or not this is the case, later generations
sometimes remembered him as one. Shabkar, for instance, cited Jigmé Lingpa as a
107
108
‘jigs med gling pa, Autobiography, 330, 360-361, 402, 407-423.
Gardner, Twenty-Five Great Sites, 129-131. Smith, Autobiography of Khenpo Ngakchung, 25.
Alex Gardner has cast doubt on how authentic this was, or whether it was simply a convenient justification
for the coup. Either way, it is clear that Jigmé Lingpa had considerable influence at the Degé court.
61
vegetarian, as have modern lamas such as Chatrel Sangyé Dorjé (b. 1913)109 Even when
later authors may not have thought of Jigmé Lingpa as a vegetarian, he was still
remembered for his attitude towards animals. In a commentary on Patrül Rinpoché’s
(1808-1887) The Words of My Perfect Teacher, Khenpo Ngakchung (1879-1941) notes:
When meditating on compassion, the system of Apu [Patrül Rinpoché]
and Jowo [Atiśa] is to meditate on one's present mother. According to
Rigdzin Jigmé Lingpa’s intention, when you observe a being that is
about to be killed, such as a sheep awaiting slaughter, or when you
observe someone with a painful illness, imagine that they are either
yourself or your old mother. Whichever method you want to use is
fine.110
Khenpo Ngakchung was deeply engaged with transmitting Jigmé Lingpa’s
Longchen Nyingthik practice system in Kham. By comparing Jigmé Lingpa with Atiśa
and Patrül—both of whom were also notably sympathetic to animals—Khenpo
Ngakchung makes clear that Jigmé Lingpa’s own lineage saw him as particularly devoted
to animals.
Jigmé Lingpa had several disciples from Kham, but two were of particular
importance in the transmission of his lineage, the first Dodrupchen, Jigmé Trinlé Özer
(1745-1821) and Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu (1765-1842). Dodrupchen, working in concert
109
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Wondrous Emanated Scripture, 62-63. Shabkar, Food of Bodhisattvas,
85. Kyabje Chatral Rinpoché, Powerful Message.
110
ngag dbang dpal bzang, Notes on The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 214. Khenpo Ngawang Pelzang,
Guide to The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 148.
62
with the Degé royal family, helped to ensure that Jigmé Lingpa’s texts were printed and
distributed throughout Kham. It is unclear, however, to what extent he included Jigmé
Lingpa’s attitude towards animals and support for vegetarianism in this mission. His
Commentary on Jigmé Lingpa’s Treasury of Precious Qualities, for instance, makes no
mention of meat.111 As we have seen, Jigmé Lingpa’s own auto-commentary on this
same work, The Chariot of the Two Truths, spends several pages criticizing meat eating.112
The Chariot of the Two Truths was printed in Degé during the early 1790s, making it one
of the first of Jigmé Lingpa’s works to be printed there, and it is inconceivable that
Dodrupchen was not aware of it when he composed his own commentary.113 While this
does not indicate that Dodrupchen was opposed to vegetarianism, it does suggest that he
did not find it to be an important part of his teacher’s legacy.
Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu, on the other hand, was both a vegetarian himself and
central to the spread of vegetarianism in Kham. The Biography of Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu
recalls that while in retreat near Mt. Tsari, Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu watched a nomad
couple butcher a sheep for him, distressing him so much that he never ate meat again.114
Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu’s Biography is unsigned and undated, but Matthieu Ricard, citing
oral tradition, asserts that it was written during the life of Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu’s disciple
snying rje bsgom pa la a bu dang jo bo’i lugs la/ rang gi rtsa ba’i ma nas bsgom/ rig ‘dzin ‘jigs med gling gi dgongs
pa ltar na/ bsha’ lug la sogs pa sems can gsod du nye ba’am nad pa dang sdug bsngal can zhig la dmigs nas rang
ngam rang gi ma rgan gyi ‘du shes bzhag nas bsgom pa yin/ gang ltar bsgom kyang chog la/
111
‘jigs med phrin las ‘od zer, Commentary.
112
‘jigs med gling pa, Chariot of the Two Truths.
113
‘jigs med gling pa, Autobiography, 402.
114
Anonymous, Biography of Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu, 69-70.
63
Patrül Rinpoché115. Further, this account is repeated in the Autobiography of Khenpo
Ngakchung, written in 1933, so the story must have been current by then.116
Whether or not this account of Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu’s personal vegetarianism
accurately reflects his life, however, he strongly influenced the later spread of
vegetarianism in Kham through his contributions to one of the most popular pieces of
religious advice composed during this period, The Words of My Perfect Teacher. This text
was written by Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu’s disciple Patrül Rinpoché, though the latter claims
to have been merely repeating what he had heard from Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu, his ‘perfect
teacher’. Such attribution in Tibetan works can often feel like something of a trope, an
attempt to gather legitimacy by associating the work with a famous forebear. In this case,
however, it is worth noting that despite the strident anti-meat rhetoric in The Words of
My Perfect Teacher, Patrül does not mention meat in any of the other works of his that I
have investigated. Similarly, neither of Patrül’s traditional biographies mention him
becoming vegetarian, though the third Dodrupchen, Jigmé Tenpé Nyima’s (1865-1926)
Short Biography of Patrül does credit him with putting an end to the practice of
slaughtering animals to serve to lamas performing rituals.117 The contrast between the
powerful anti-meat passages in The Words of My Perfect Teacher and the complete lack of
mention in any other text leads me to suspect that in this case, Patrül really may have
simply been repeating what he had heard from his teacher.
115
Anonymous, Biography of Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu, v-vi.
116
ngag dbang dpal bzang, Autobiography, 79-80.
117
‘jigs med bstan pa’i nyi ma, Biography of Patrül, 458.
64
Whoever the text is attributed to, the author was not afraid to denounce what he
saw as the hypocrisy of contemporary religious leaders:
These days, those who have the appearance of lamas are drawn in when
a patron slaughters a fat, greasy sheep and [cooks] the quivering meat
with the gullet and organs, piling the lot atop the still trembling ribs of
a yak. These lamas pull their monastic shawls over their heads and
suck away at the entrails like a baby sucking at its mother’s breast.118
Similarly strong language is also used to describe the experience of animal
suffering, concluding that anyone who can eat meat after this process must be a demon:
At the time a sheep or other animal is to be slaughtered, it first has
inconceivable terror as it is taken from the flock. Blood blisters form
wherever it is seized. Then it is flipped upside down, its limbs are
bound with cord and its muzzle is tied.119 The in and out flow of the
breath is cut off, and it experiences the terrible suffering of death. If it
requires a little time to die, the evil butcher beats it, calling out angrily,
'This one won't die!'. … Anyone who can eat such things is a true
demon!120
118
dpal sprul o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 103. Patrül Rinpoché,
The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 70.
da lta bla ma rnam pa tsho yang/ yon bdag gi bsha’ lug tsho ba dang rgyag pa re bshas nas mid pa dang mtsher pa
sogs sha khrag gis g.yos/ tshang ‘brong gi rtsib sha ‘dar cum me ba’i steng du bzhag nas drangs tsa na/ mnabs gzan
de dbu la ‘then nas/ nang cha rnams byis pas nu ma nu nu mdzad/
119
Refers to a popular method of slaughtering where the animal is suffocated by binding a cord around its
muzzle. The meat produced by this method, still rich with blood, is said to be particularly tasty.
120
dpal sprul o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 314-315. Patrül
Rinpoché, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 203.
khyad par bsha' lug sogs gsod pa'i skabs/ dang po mang po'i khyu nas bzung ba'i tshe/ de la 'jigs skrag gi snang ba
bsam gyis mi khyab pa yod pas/ dang po gang du bzung sa der sha la khrag tshom 'byung/ de rjes lus gnam sa
bsgyur/ yan lag 'breng pas bkyig mchu tha gus dkris/ dbugs phyi nang gi rgyu 'grul bcad de gnad gcod kyi sdug
65
In this and other passages, The Words of My Perfect Teacher focuses on the
suffering animals’ experience, presumably with the hope that such description will
provoke an emotional response on the part of its readers. In this focus on animal
suffering, as well as the vivid language used to describe that suffering, The Words of My
Perfect Teacher clearly reflects the concerns found in Jigmé Lingpa’s writings on meat.
This should not be surprising, given the text’s lineage, but it serves as confirmation of the
importance Jigmé Lingpa’s views would hold in Kham generations after his death.
It is also clear that The Words of My Perfect Teacher had a strong influence on
religious practice in Kham, at least among the Nyingma school. While I have not been
able to arrive at any hard numbers, anecdotal evidence suggests that Patrül taught this
text widely. Jigmé Tenpé Nyima’s Biography, for instance, notes that Patrül taught the
Longchen Nyingthik preliminaries widely throughout Kham.121 The Words of My Perfect
Teacher is a commentary on these same practices, so it seems likely that it, or at least the
ideas in it, would be featured at any such teaching session. There is also at least one full
commentary on The Words of My Perfect Teacher written during this period, again
suggesting that the work found a wide audience. Interestingly, this commentary, by
Khenpo Ngakchung (1879-1941), does not repeat the critiques of meat found in The
Words of My Perfect Teacher.122 Instead, Khenpo Ngakchung simply skips over these
bsngal dos drag po myong ba'i skabs su yang da dung cung zad 'chi ba 'gor na shan pa las ngan phal cher zhe sdang
langs nas 'di la 'chi rgyu mi 'dug zer te brdung rdeg sogs byed/ … za phod pa 'di las kyi srin po dngos so 'dug/
121
122
‘jigs med bstan pa’i nyi ma, Biography of Patrül, 458.
ngag dbang dpal bzang, Notes on The Words of My Perfect Teacher. Khenpo Ngawang Pelzang, Guide to
The Words of My Perfect Teacher.
66
passages, neither condoning nor contradicting the original. This can only be an
intentional omission by Khenpo Ngakchung, reminding us that while The Words of My
Perfect Teacher may have been widely read and admired, that does not mean that its advice
concerning meat was always followed!
If it is clear that Jigmé Lingpa’s ideas were important in the spread of
vegetarianism in Kham, the same is less clear for Shabkar. He never personally visited
the region, though there is evidence that he was known there. Patrül Rinpoché, for
instance, is said to have begun traveling to Amdo in order to meet Shabkar, though he
turned around when he heard of Shabkar’s death in 1851.123 Following this, Patrül
composed A Supplication for Shabkar’s Rebirth, praising many of Shabkar’s qualities, but
not mentioning his vegetarianism.124 It is clear, therefore, that Shabkar’s reputation had
spread to Kham, though the fact that Patrül makes no reference to Shabkar’s
vegetarianism sugests that his vegetarianism may not have been part of that reputation.
Shabkar’s influence on vegetarianism in Kham is, therefore, less clear than Jigmé
Lingpa’s. Still, given the strength and frequency of Shabkar’s attacks on meat, as well as
the fact that he was known in Kham, it seems likely that his ideas may have supported
the movement.
In addition to Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu and Patrül Rinpoché, the Nyingma lama
Nyakla Pema Düdül (1816-1873) also actively propagated vegetarianism in Kham during
the mid-nineteenth century. As recalled in his Advice for Abandoning Meat, Nyakla Pema
123
‘jigs med bstan pa’i nyi ma, Biography of Patrül, 457.
67
Düdül became vegetarian after a vision in which Avalokiteśvara, the Bodhisattva of
compassion, appeared to him and reprimanded him severely for his consumption of
meat.125 Following this reprimand, Nyakla Pema Düdül adopts a vegetarian diet and
encourages his disciples to do the same.
Like Jigmé Lingpa’s works and The Words of My Perfect Teacher, Nyakla Pema
Düdül emphasizes the suffering that eating meat causes. Despite these echoes of Jigmé
Lingpa’s sentiments, however, it is unclear to what extent Nyakla Pema Düdül may have
been influenced by his lineage. Like Jigmé Lingpa, he was strongly associated with the
Nyingma school. However, Nyoshül Khenpo’s A Marvelous Garland of Rare Gems, a
modern encyclopedic history of the Longchen Nyingthik teachings, does not list him as a
holder of Jigmé Lingpa’s specific lineage. The same text does, however, note that Patrül
gave teachings at Nyakla Pema Düdül’s camp, so the two likely met.126 Unfortunately,
Advice for Abandoning Meat does not say when it was written, so it is impossible to know
whether it was composed before or after these meetings. While it is possible, therefore,
that Nyakla Pema Düdül was responding to calls for vegetarianism spreading from Jigmé
Lingpa’s lineage, it is also possible that he was responding to a broader vegetarian
movement no longer associated with that specific lineage. In either case, this is the first
evidence that vegetarianism was beginning to spread in Kham beyond the circle of those
associated with Jigmé Lingpa.
124
dpal sprul o rgyan ‘jigs med chos kyi dbang po, Supplication.
125
nyag bla padma bdud ‘dul, Advice. Nyala Pema Duddul, “Song of Advice.”
68
Whether associated with Jigmé Lingpa’s lineage or not, all of these figures are
drawn from the Nyingma school, and it is impossible to avoid the impression that, at
least through the mid-nineteenth century, the vegetarian movement in Kham was largely
a Nyingma phenomena. That begins to change in the late nineteenth century, however,
and by the early twentieth all of the religious schools active in Kham—with the striking
exception of the Geluk—had at least a few vegetarian representatives. This is not
surprising, as many of these religious leaders sought out teachings from a variety of
schools, to the extent that late nineteenth century Kham has sometimes been said to have
experienced a rimé, or non-sectarian movement.
Jamgön Kongtrül Lodrö Tayé (1813-1899) was among the most important Kagyü
lamas of this time and a central member of the so-called rimé movement. Kongtrül
himself was not a vegetarian and does not seem to have actively supported vegetarianism
in any of his many written works. And yet, in his addendum to Jamgön Kongtrül’s own
Autobiography, The Marvelous Gem-Like Vision, Nesar Tashi Chöphel (19th-20th C) recalls,
“I repeatedly heard [Kongtrül] say, ‘I pray that I will be born as one who doesn’t have to
eat meat.”127 Thus, while Kongtrül does not seem to have practiced vegetarianism, it is
clear that he held it up as an ideal.
Reported Kagyü vegetarians of this period include Karmé Khenpo Rinchen
Dargyé (1835-19th/20th c.), a primary disciple of both Jamgön Kongtrül and the Nyingma
126
smyo shil mkhan po, Garland of Rare Gems, vol 1, 202b. Nyoshul Khenpo Jamyang Dorjé, Marvelous
Garland of Rare Gems, 243.
127
gnas gsar bkra shis chos ‘phel, Gem-Like Vision, 7a. Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Taye, Autobiography, 378.
de’i tshe bdag ni sha za mi dgos pa zhig tu skye ba’i smon lam byed pa yin ces yang yang bka’ stsal pa’ang thos mod/
69
luminary Chokgyur Lingpa (1829-1870).128 Karmé Khenpo’s vegetarianism is attested in
Blazing Splendor, the memoirs of Tülku Urgyen Rinpoché (1920-1996), who lauds him
for his commitment to ethics, including strict vegetarianism and teetotaling.129 Karmé
Khenpo may also have authored a short prayer specifically for reducing the negativity
associated with eating meat.130 Attribution of this prayer to Karmé Khenpo is tenuous,
however, and I have been able to retrieve little information about his vegetarianism from
other sources.
Within the Sakya school, the most prominent vegetarian of this period that I am
aware of was Ngawang Lekpa (1864-1941). According to Künga Tenpé Gyeltsen’s
(1885-1952) biography, The Life of Ngawang Lekpa, Ngawang Lekpa was deeply revolted
at the repeated sight of sheep being slaughtered while on a pilgrimage to Lhasa. Such
sights would cause him to lose his appetite for several days, until he finally gave up all
meat when he took his monastic vows.131 Again, this account echoes Jigmé Lingpa’s
experience with watching sheep being slaughtered, indicating that this pattern had spread
beyond the confines of the Nyingma school.
Beyond these Buddhist schools, members of Bön adherents also practiced
vegetarianism during this period, with the most prominent being Shardza Tashi Gyeltsen
(1859-1935), who renounced all slaughtered meat at the same time as he took monastic
128
Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Taye, Autobiography, 394. Tülku Urgyen, Blazing Splendor, 62-66.
129
Tülku Urgyen, Blazing Splendor, 66.
Tülku Urgyen’s memoirs were collected and edited by his European disciples, then published in English.
As far as I am aware, no Tibetan edition has been published.
130
Anonymous, Prayer to Purify, 6.
70
vows.132 Shardza also wrote one of the more interesting anti-meat tracts that I have come
across. In this work, The Shortcomings of Eating Meat, Shardza argues at length that meat
is inappropriate, pointing out that it conflicts with the ideal of compassion, leads to
rebirth in hell, and is, simply, disgusting. After this discussion, however, Shardza turns
around and mandates meat consumption, arguing that meat is necessary for health and so
refusing it would be like throwing away your precious human life. Finally, Shardza tries
to resolve this contradiction by advocating the consumption of ‘pure meat’, including
meat that has died naturally and meat that was prepared for someone else and then
discarded.133
During his youth, Shardza had studied extensively at Menri Monastery in Central
Tibet. His anti-meat writings do not mention Kudön Sönam Lodrö’s Menri Customary,
which explicitly prohibited meat for Menri monks, but they do cite the same
commentaries that informed that text. It is speculation, but it seems likely that Shardza’s
anti-meat views were, at the least, nurtured during his time at Menri. The anti-meat
position held at Menri, therefore, provides another important inspiration for the rise of
vegetarianism in Kham.
Further, while Shardza was the most well known Bönpo vegetarian of this period,
he was certainly not the only one. The History of the Makser Bön Lineage, a biographical
history written by Jampel Pawo Dorjé Tsal (1943-2010), also recalls several vegetarians
131
kun dga’ bstan pa’i rgyal mtshan, Life of Ngawang Lekpa, 10.
132
dbra ston skal bzang bstan pa’i rgyal mtshan, Biography of Shardza, 122-123.
133
shar rdza bkra shis rgyal mtshan, Shortcomings, 333.
71
active during the early twentieth century.134 Further, interviews with the author’s son,
Tsewang Tenzin (1988- ) indicate that several other figures from this lineage were
vegetarian, including Jampel Pawo Dorjé Tsal himself, though this is not mentioned in
the text itself. Tsewang Tenzin also indicated that, despite the popularity of the practice
among members of this lineage, vegetarianism was considered a personal choice rather
than a strict requirement for lineage holders.
While the members of this lineage were locally respected and significant, they did
not have the pan-Kham stature of figures such as Shardza. The History of the Makser Bön
Lineage, therefore, provides valuable insight into the lives of non-elite lamas, indicating
that vegetarianism was practiced by these local figures as well as elite figures like Shardza.
A similar point was made by Lopön Tenzin Namdak (1926- ), one of the most
important Bön lineage holders alive today. During an oral interview, Lopön Tenzin
Namdak recalled that during his youth in Kham, vegetarianism was relatively widespread
among Bön lamas, and that he himself adopted the diet from time to time. Between The
History of the Makser Bön Lineage and Lopön Tenzin Namdak’s recollections, it seems
likely that vegetarianism was relatively common among early twentieth century Bönpos,
perhaps more so than among other lineages.
It should also be noted that vegetarianism continued to be practiced by members
of the Nyingma school through the early and mid-twentieth century. In addition to
Karmé Khenpo, Tülku Urgyen also recalls that two uncles, both Nyingma lamas,
134
'jam dpal dpa' bo rdo rje rtsal, History of Makser Bön Lineage.
72
Sangngak Rinpoché (19th-20th C) and Samten Gyatso (1881-1945) were both practicing
vegetarians.135 Likewise, the female lama Sera Khandro (1892-1940) was a lifelong
vegetarian.136 Thus, while vegetarianism was spreading among the other Buddhist
schools in Kham, it also remained strong among the Nyingma.
Surprisingly, however, I have found no evidence of vegetarianism among
members of the Geluk school in Kham. Even during the course of many interviews with
monks currently residing in Gelukpa monasteries in Kham—many of whom were
vegetarian—I could not uncover any stories or other evidence of Gelukpa vegetarianism
in Kham prior to the arrival of the Chinese army in the 1950s. There is evidence for
Gelukpa vegetarian prior to this period and in other regions, but none in Kham.137 I can
only assume that there were at least a few, unrecorded Gelukpa vegetarians during this
time, but the lack of evidence strongly suggests that Geluk individuals and institutions
did not participate in the vegetarian movement to the same degree as the other schools.
There is not room in this present chapter to discuss the reasons for this, but they will be
discussed in detail in chapter five.
It should be clear at this point that vegetarianism went through a rapid increase in
popularity in Kham during the nineteenth century, despite the apparent lack of Geluk
participation. Prior to the beginning of that century, I have uncovered evidence of only a
few vegetarians in the region, and even then the evidence is uncertain. By the early to
135
Tülku Urgyen, Blazing Splendor, 87, 198.
136
se ra mkha’ ‘dro, Autobiography, 130-131, 356. Jacoby, Consorts and Revelations, 56, 295.
73
mid-twentieth century, however, I have found textual references to more than twenty
specific, named vegetarians. As the oral tradition suggests, there were presumably many
more vegetarians whose names have not been remembered. Collectively, therefore, it
seems clear that vegetarianism experienced a sustained level of interest throughout Kham
beginning in the mid-nineteenth century.
Contemporary Tibet
Further, while the arrival of Chinese military forces in the early 1950s severely
disrupted Tibetan religious life, vegetarianism did not completely disappear. The
Democratic Reforms138 movement, launched in Tibet in 1958, brought with it the forced
laicization of most monks and nuns, the destruction of many monasteries and the public
burning of countless books. After a few years of relative respite in the early sixties, the
Cultural Revolution,139 with its rabid opposition to all things associated with the feudal
past, nearly finished the job begun during the Democratic Reforms. Those few monks
who remained were forced to return to lay life, and most of Tibet’s remaining
monasteries and temples were destroyed or turned to other purposes.140
137
Khedrup Jé is perhaps the most prominent example, though Shabkar also had many Geluk disciples in
Amdo.
138
Tib: dmangs gtso bcos bsgyur
Ch: 民主改革
139
Tib: rig gnas gsar brje
Ch: 文化大革命
140
Despite the importance of this period to understandings of contemporary Tibetan religion, it has
remained remarkably understudied. Among the works that treat this period in detail, see: Goldstein, On
the Cultural Revolution in Tibet and Shakya, The Dragon in the Land of Snows.
74
It goes without saying that the upheavals of this period had a strong, negative
impact on religious practice. Many individual lamas were forced from their positions and
were often forced to work in dangerous conditions.141 And yet, religious practice did
sometimes continue in secret.142 Some lamas even managed to continue practicing
vegetarianism. One lama presently living in Xining,143 for instance, claimed that he had
been a vegetarian since the age of four (his father, also a lama, was a strict vegetarian),
including during the entire period of the Democratic Reforms and Cultural Revolution.
Similarly, a Sakya lama living in a hermitage near the town of Lhagang, in Kham,
claimed that his teacher had maintained a vegetarian diet throughout this period. These
stories are extraordinary, but they demonstrate that not all religious practice ceased
during this period, as well as the importance some individuals gave to vegetarianism.
With the loosening of rules governing religious practice and the reestablishment
of religious centers in the early 1980s, vegetarianism started to be revitalized among both
an older generation who remembered the pre-Chinese past, and a younger generation
seeking to reestablish Tibetan Buddhist practice. Indeed, the vegetarian movement in
contemporary Tibet is arguably stronger than at any time in Tibet’s past history. For the
rest of this chapter, I will look at the practice of vegetarianism among contemporary
Tibetan Buddhists.
141
Arjia Rinpoche, Surviving the Dragon. thub bstan phun tshogs, Life of Thangla Tsewang.
142
thub bstan phun tshogs, Life of Thangla Tsewang.
143
Ch: 西寧
75
Before looking at vegetarianism in Tibet proper, however, it is worth digressing
slightly and looking at the vegetarian movement among Tibetans living in exile in India
and Nepal. In a 1983 article, Tsepak Rigzin and Francesca Hampton describe debates
surrounding meat eating in the exile community, citing the opinions of several prominent
lamas and thereby making clear that this was a debated topic at that time. Among other
observations, Rigzin and Hampton note that much of the discomfort with meat eating is
being driven by western converts to Tibetan Buddhism.144 At the same time, however,
the actual terms of the debate outlined by these authors align closely with the debates we
have already seen. The lamas they cite make reference to the same idea and texts—such
as the idea of threefold purity and the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra—that governed the discussion
in pre-modern Tibet as well. Thus, while contact with western ideas helped instigate
these debates among the exile community, the debates themselves were conducted along
traditional lines.
By 2005, vegetarianism had achieved a potent new supporter: the Dalai Lama,
Tenzin Gyatso (1935- ). The Dalai Lama was sympathetic to vegetarianism even prior
to going into exile, insisting that all state banquets in Lhasa be meat free.145 He also
experimented with vegetarianism himself around the year 2000, though he ultimately
decided it was too hard on his health. In 2005 and 2006, however, the Dalai Lama made
a series of speeches praising vegetarianism and encouraging his audience to adopt the
144
Rigzin & Hampton, “Buddhism and Meat Eating,” 8.
145
His Holiness the Dalai Lama, “Non-Vegetarian Food,” 57.
76
diet.146 Similarly, the seventeenth Karmapa, Urgyan Trinlé Dorjé (1985- ), himself a
committed vegetarian, asked members of the Karma Kagyü order he oversees to become
vegetarian in early 2007. As will be discussed soon, the strong statements in support of
vegetarianism from both the Dalai Lama and the Karmapa have been highly influential in
spreading vegetarianism, both among the exile community and in Tibet itself.
Before returning to Tibet, however, it is worth noting the emergence of a group
known as Tibetan Volunteers for Animals (TVA). TVA emerged in the first years of the
twenty-first century, with a mission focused on promoting vegetarianism and humane
treatment of animals. They have produced videos and magazines supporting
vegetarianism, and were an important force in making the Dalai Lama’s 2006 Kalachakra
Initiation in Amaravati—attended by more than two hundred thousand Tibetans from
India and Tibet—an entirely vegetarian event.147 Importantly, TVA is not an explicitly
religious organization. They mark, therefore, the first time that vegetarianism has been
promoted in Tibet by individuals and groups outside of a formal, religious context.
At roughly the same time vegetarianism was gaining traction among exile
Tibetans, the diet was also becoming increasingly popular in Tibet itself. In 2004,
Drigung Könchok Gyatso (1968- ), a senior lama of the Drigung branch of the Kagyü
school who resides near Lhasa, published a text titled The Benefits of Vegetarianism, in
146
bstan 'dzin rgya mtsho, Dalai Lama’s Talks on Environment, 131-134. His Holiness the XIV Dalai
Lama, His Holiness the XIV Dalai Lama on the Environment, 86-94.
147
I attended this event in January of 2006, and the entire grounds truly were meat-free. One restaurant
that did serve meat, off menu, was ransacked by Tibetans, incensed at this violation of the event’s
vegetarian status.
77
both Tibetan and Chinese. This short text consists of two sections, the first dedicated to
the flaws of killing and the second to the benefits of not-killing.148 Notably, it includes
minimal references to the Vinaya or other vows, focusing instead on the suffering animals
undergo and the karmic repercussions for those that cause this suffering.
In addition to this book, Könchok Gyatso has been instrumental in supporting
the development of vegetarian restaurants in Lhasa, three of which were active in 2010.149
As with other areas in contemporary Tibet, it is impossible to conduct surveys or other
quantitative studies to determine how many members of a given population are
vegetarian, but reports from recent visitors indicate that there is a strong vegetarian
community among Tibetans in contemporary Lhasa, and particularly among the Drigung
Kagyü.
Within contemporary Tibet, however, the vegetarian movement has established
itself most securely in Kham. As we saw, Kham experienced a strong vegetarian
movement from the mid-nineteenth through the mid-twentieth centuries, and some
individuals even managed to maintain a vegetarian diet through the period of the
Democratic Reforms and Cultural Revolution. After the relaxation of restrictions on
religious practice in the early eighties, Kham embarked on a sustained religious revival,
often centered around charismatic individuals.
148
149
‘bri gung dkon mchog rgya mtsho, Benefits of Being Vegetarian.
Oral communication from Francoise Robin. Due to travel difficulties, I have not been able to visit
Lhasa recently.
78
Among the most important of these lamas was Khenpo Jigmé Püntsok (19332003).150 Khenpo Jigmé Püntsok was not, himself, a vegetarian. I have been told by a
close disciple that he was diabetic, and felt vegetarianism would be too hard on his
health.151 He did, however, emphasize compassion for animals in his vision for modern
Buddhist practice, arguing strongly against the slaughter of animals for their meat.152
Khenpo Jigmé Püntsok’s close disciple and religious heir, Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö
(c. 1970s- ), has taken this emphasis on compassion towards animals and used it to
support vegetarianism. Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö has been a vegetarian himself since
1998, following an unpleasant visit to a slaughterhouse. He has written at least two
significant works on vegetarianism and compiled a collection of similar works, The Faults
of Meat, Alcohol and Tobacco.153 This is the only book on vegetarianism widely available in
Kham, and I have seen pirated copies for sale as far away as Xining, in Amdo. Khenpo
Tsültrim Lodrö has also published a series of fliers denouncing meat that have been
widely distributed across Kham, even into very rural areas. (Fig. 1) Finally, he has also
produced a series of VCD disks containing his religious teachings, several of which
promote vegetarianism.154 As Holly Gayley has noted, the widespread availability of such
150
Germano, “Re-membering.”
151
Personal communication with Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö, summer 2010.
152
Gayley, “Ethics of Cultural Survival.”
153
tshul khrims blo gros, Faults.
154
VCDs are a precursor to DVDs, and contain video files (though not as much as a DVD can hold).
They remain popular in Kham and other parts of Tibet, though they have been supplanted by DVDs in
most other parts of China.
79
disks has altered the dynamics
of spreading a religious
message, encouraging a much
broader spectrum of society to
engage in these debates.155
Khenpo Tsültrim
Lodrö’s influence is also felt
through his association with
Larung Gar, the largest
monastic complex in Kham.156
Larung Gar, near the town of
Serta, was founded by Khenpo
Jigmé Püntsok. It is organized
Fig 1: One of the most common fliers distributed by Khenpo Tsültrim
Lodrö. Photographed here at a remote truck stop near Pelyül, but seen
frequently across Kham.
as a gar, or encampment, rather
than a traditional monastery,
meaning that most residents come only for a period of years, rather than for their
lifetime. This allows the complex to skirt official residency requirements, and also
promotes the spread of the gar’s teachings, as monks and nuns return to their home
155
156
Gayley, “Ethics of Cultural Survival.”
It is extremely difficult to know exactly how many monks and nuns reside at Larung Gar, but I have
heard estimates of as many as twenty thousand. As such, I believe it is not only the largest monastic
complex in Kham, but the largest such institution the world has ever seen.
80
institutions following their training.157 As Khenpo Jigmé Püntsok’s principle heir,
Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö has assumed leadership of Larung Gar, offering him a powerful
platform from which to spread his vision of Buddhist thought and practice, including
vegetarianism.
Larung Gar does not require vegetarianism among its residents, but interviews
suggest that a majority of the monks and nuns resident there are vegetarian. One senior
monk explained that when young monks or nuns arrive, they usually eat meat. After two
or three years residence at Larung Gar, however, he claimed that most had adopted
vegetarianism. When these individuals return to their home monastery, many promote
vegetarianism there as well, spreading Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö’s vegetarian message
across the Tibetan world.158
Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö is one of the most important lamas in contemporary
Kham. One young monk at Pelyül Monastery told me, “In India, they have the Dalai
Lama. In Tibet, we have Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö.” This anecdote does not mean that
Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö truly enjoys the same stature as the Dalai Lama. It does suggest,
however, the degree to which he is respected in Kham. Further, his teachings on
vegetarianism are widely known. When I would ask both monastics and laity in Kham
about vegetarian lamas, I was almost invariably referred to Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö.
Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö is not the only lama to promote vegetarianism in Kham; I have
157
158
Terrone, “Tibetan Buddhism Beyond the Monastery,” 764-765.
Interestingly, Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö is little known among the Tibetan exile community in India and
Nepal. Some had heard his name, but few knew any details about either his life or teachings.
81
collected texts by seven different authors from the region that are specifically aimed at
promoting vegetarianism.159 Further, some of these authors, such as Pema Kelzang (b.
1943) of Dzogchen Monastery and Tülku A-sung (b. circa 1970s) of Yachen Gar are
senior lamas. None, however, have Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö’s pan-Kham stature, and
none, therefore, have influenced the contemporary vegetarian movement to the degree he
has.
Further, it is worth emphasizing that
vegetarianism is not limited to monastics, or even to
religious professionals. There is also a strong
vegetarian movement among religiously devout laity as
well. As mentioned above, Lhasa is able to support
three vegetarian restaurants. Similarly, a Tibetan
businessman in the eastern city of Dartsedo with
strong personal commitment to vegetarianism has
founded a restaurant there that serves only vegetarian
meals. Further, interviews with many lay Tibetans
indicate that vegetarianism has spread rapidly over the
Fig 2: Villagers reading one of Khenpo
Tsültrim Lodrö’s fliers. Yachen Gar,
Summer 2010.
last five to seven years, though it remains a minority
practice. In many cases, I was told that people had adopted vegetarianism after seeing
Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö’s fliers, or watching one of his VCDs. (Fig. 2) One woman in
159
It is worth noting that few of these texts were readily available in bookstores. Instead, most were
privately printed, with a limited distribution.
82
her mid-fifties described how she had cried after watching a VCD with horrific scenes of
animal slaughter, and immediately resolved to become vegetarian. Later, she invited her
friends over to watch the same VCD, and reported proudly that several of them had
become vegetarian as well.
It remains to be seen how many people who adopt vegetarianism based on such
graphic videos maintain the practice over the long term. Officers from Tibetan
Volunteers for Animals, the Dharamsala-based organization mentioned previously, said
that the group no longer used such graphic images. They produced an initial surge of
converts to vegetarianism, but many of these individuals resumed eating meat after the
shock of the images wore off. Instead, therefore, TVA has shifted its strategy to
emphasize developing a lasting relationship with animals that, they hope, will encourage
people to maintain their vegetarian diet over a longer timeframe.
Finally, vegetarianism is not the only means through which Khenpo Tsültrim
Lodrö and other lamas promote animal welfare in Kham. Starting in 2010, Khenpo
Tsültrim Lodrö promulgated a set of vows known as the ‘new ten virtues.’160 Unlike most
religious vows, these ten vows are taken by communities, with stiff fines for families or
villages who have a member that transgresses the vows.161 The new ten virtues do not
include vegetarianism, but they do include a vow to not slaughter animals. Communities
that take these vows, therefore, are bound to only eat the meat of animals that have died
naturally. I have heard many stories of individuals finding creative ways around this
160
tib: dge bcu gsar pa
83
prohibition, but in at least some cases, villages do avoid slaughtering their animals.
Residents of the town of Lhagang, near Dartsedo, for instance, insisted that they
slaughtered no animals, relying instead on the meat of animals that had died naturally.
Sources of such meat included wolf-kills,162 lightening strikes,163 maternal deaths in
calving and other accidental deaths, though meat from aged or ill animals was considered
fit only for dogs. Few in this village practiced vegetarianism, but they all were committed
to upholding the prohibition against slaughtering their animals. The anti-slaughter
movement is distinct from the vegetarian movement, but both draw on similar
sentiments: discomfort with the killing animals for their meat.
As should be clear at this point, vegetarianism has spread rapidly in Kham over
the last decade, as well as in other regions of the Tibetan cultural zone, such as the exile
communities in India and Lhasa. In the process, vegetarianism has achieved a level of
popularity never before seen among Tibetans. This does not mean, however, that the
movement is something novel. While there has been outside influence, such as the
concerns of western converts mentioned above, the terms of the debate itself align closely
with traditional debates that have occurred periodically from at least the eleventh century
onwards. Contemporary vegetarianism, therefore, should not be thought of as a new
movement in Tibetan Buddhist practice, but a new implementation of ideals that have
existed for centuries.
161
162
Gayley, “The New Upāsaka.”
Even a large wolf pack could not eat an entire yak before being driven off the carcass by herders in the
morning, leaving a significant quantity of meat behind.
84
Conclusion
As noted earlier, the history recounted here is governed—and limited—by the
available source material. The vegetarianism practiced by some figures, such as Dolpopa,
Jigmé Lingpa, Shabkar, Shardza Tashi Gyeltsen and a few others is represented by a rich
textual record. For many others, however, the relevant source material is much more
limited, often little more than a brief line or two in a biography. Accordingly, the
historical description I have provided above has privileged some individuals and some
texts above others. This certainly distorts the story, and it is likely that as further sources
become available, the patterns noted above will become more complex.
That said, the evidence we do have is consistent enough to conclude that some of
the patterns identified above are accurate. Vegetarianism does, for instance, seem to have
experienced heightened popularity in Central Tibet between the thirteenth and fifteenth
centuries and in Kham from the nineteenth century onwards. It also seems clear that
there was a notable shift in the tone of the arguments made during these two periods,
with the earlier period preferring to support vegetarianism through an appeal to monastic
regulations, and those of the latter period, perhaps under the influence of Jigmé Lingpa
and his lineage, preferring to focus on the suffering the animals experience. While the
details may change as further evidence emerges, broad trends such as these seem well
established.
163
I was told that a single summer storm could kill as many as forty animals from a large herd.
85
Throughout the history presented here, I have largely avoided the question of just
how many vegetarians there were at any given time. As should be obvious, given the
source material, it is impossible to answer this question with any degree of certainty. Due
to restrictions on research imposed by the Chinese government, it is impossible to come
up with even a rough estimate of the number of present day vegetarians.164 But this does
not mean I shouldn’t try, and there are a couple of sources which can tell us something.
The Blue Annals, for instance, contains hundreds of short biographical accounts,165
yet mentions vegetarianism of one type or another for only ten individuals.166 Even if
these are only approximate numbers, it suggests that vegetarians were a small minority of
the religious population surveyed in this work.
Tsering Lama Jampel Zangpo’s Garland of Wish-Fulfilling Trees, on the other
hand, suggests that Padma Lhündrub Gyatso, the second abbot of Pelyül monastery,
induced thousands of his followers to adopt vegetarianism as part of a strict monastic
regimen.167 It is unlikely that Pelyül had more than a few hundred monks at the time, so
this number appears to have been inflated significantly.168 Still, it holds out the
164
Surveys or other quantitative analysis are impossible, a situation that seems unlikely to change in the
near future.
165
I have not counted the actual biographical entries in this text, but the index to Roerich’s translation
contains approximately five thousand personal names. Presumably not all of these individuals are given full
biographical entries, however.
166
‘gos lo zhon nu dpal, Blue Annals. Roerich, Blue Annals.
167
tshe ring bla ma 'jam dpal bzang po, Immortal Wish-Fulfilling Trees, 67. Tsering Lama Jampal Zangpo,
Garland of Immortal Wish-Fulfilling Trees, 76.
168
Jann Ronis has noted that in the mid 18th century, Situ Panchen (1700-1774) performed large
ordination ceremonies at Pelyül, ordaining a total of one hundred fifty monks. (Ronis 154). Given that this
seems to have been considered a large number, I find it hard to believe that Pelyül would have harbored
86
possibility that vegetarianism may have been at least relatively widespread in seventeenth
century Pelyül.
Somewhat more plausibly, Shabkar, writing in Amdo in the 1840s, recalled that
of his eighteen hundred disciples, three hundred adopted vegetarianism.169 Given the
strength and frequency of Shabkar’s anti-meat rhetoric, it is likely that the percentage of
vegetarians among his disciples was much higher than among the general population,
suggesting that vegetarianism in Amdo at the time was present, but rare.
In his study of Chinese Buddhist vegetarianism, John Kieschnick has observed
that by the sixth century, vegetarianism appeared with some frequency in Chinese
Buddhist biographies, but that the very fact that it was worth mentioning meant that it
had not yet become the norm.170 A similar pattern seems to hold with vegetarianism in
Tibet. Vegetarianism is mentioned frequently enough that we can say it exists, but the
very fact that it is discussed at all proves that it was uncommon enough to be worth
mentioning. Thus, while it remains impossible to come up with an accurate number of
Tibetan vegetarians for any period, it does seem like vegetarians remained a relatively
small minority, with only a handful present in any one area at a given time, even in
nineteenth and twentieth century Kham.
That said, we cannot discount the possibility that vegetarianism was locally
common. This is particularly likely in monasteries under the direction of lamas who
thousands of monks during this period, a conclusion with which Ronis has agreed. (Personal
Communication) At present, monks at Pelyül suggest the monastic population numbers about 500.
169
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Autobiography, 481a. Shabkar, Life of Shabkar, 542.
87
strongly supported the practice. One such place could be Menri Monastery, the
important Bön complex in Central Tibet. As we have seen, Kudün Sönam Lodrö’s
Menri Customary explicitly bans meat among monks. Further, there is some evidence
that this edict is followed in the present day incarnation of Menri in India, where monks
only eat meat clandestinely within the monastery walls. While further evidence would be
needed to support this, it is at least possible a similar situation could have prevailed at
pre-modern Menri, so that the monastery as a whole may have upheld a vegetarian ideal.
This general picture would align with observations made during extended
fieldwork in present-day Kham. Ease of transport has made vegetables and other
produce more widely available, greatly simplifying the practice of vegetarianism. Further,
few monasteries in the region will openly eat meat in communal settings, though
individual monks at most institutions will eat meat outside the monastic complex and
while in private. At the same time, there are a few institutions, such as Larung Gar,
Yachen Gar, Dzogchen Monastery and Pelyül Monastery, whose monks are
overwhelmingly vegetarian in practice, as well as in theory. Despite the strong advocacy
of figures such as Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö, however, on the whole vegetarianism is
practiced by only a small minority of the monastic population, and an even smaller
percentage of the laity. Reflecting back across Tibetan history, it seems likely that
vegetarianism was never widespread among Tibetans, with the possible exception of some
specific localities.
170
Kieschnick, “Buddhist Vegetarianism in China,” 194.
88
Still, as this chapter has shown, vegetarianism existed in Tibet and occurred
throughout Tibetan history in most parts of the Tibetan cultural zone. It experienced
periods of expanded popularity, such as thirteenth through fifteen century Central Tibet
and nineteenth and twentieth century Kham. However, even when its popularity
waned—or, more accurately, evidence for its popularity waned—vegetarianism continued
to exist, at least as an ideal. Furthermore, while vegetarianism may have been more
popular among one or another school at any time or place, overall it has been practiced
and upheld by representatives of all the schools of Tibetan Buddhism, as well as Bön.
Vegetarianism may never have been the norm, but it was a real and important aspect of
Tibetan Buddhist practice.
89
Chapter 2
Compassion in Practice
As the last chapter demonstrates, Tibet has a long history of vegetarianism.
Religiously inclined leaders from all schools have adopted the practice, and we can safely
say that someone, somewhere was practicing vegetarianism at any given moment in
Tibetan history from at least the eleventh century onwards. Given the importance of
meat in the Tibetan diet, the next question is why so many individuals and communities
decided to adopt vegetarianism.171 The short answer to this question is compassion and
the importance Tibetan Buddhism places on compassion. The following chapter will
provide a longer, more complex answer, exploring the multiple arguments and debates
supporting vegetarianism. While this debate is rooted in a perceived conflict between
eating meat and the practice of compassion, the arguments that emerge from this conflict
branch in a variety of ways. Many authors highlight the suffering meat eating inflicts on
animals, for instance. Others invoke the specter of negative karma for the consumer, or
hold out the possibility that vegetarianism can provide direct soteriological benefits to the
practitioner. Before discussing the intricacies of these arguments, however, it seems
171
Some of the reasons for this importance will be discussed in the next chapter.
90
appropriate to spend a few pages exploring the various practices that can all fall under the
rubric ‘vegetarianism.’
White Food
In the modern English speaking world, the term vegetarianism can encompass
practices as diverse as fruitarianism (only fruits and nuts which can be harvested without
harming the plant), veganism (the strict rejection of all products derived from animals),
and pescetarianism (in which red meat and chicken are rejected, but fish is permitted).
Likewise, Tibetan culture includes a variety of
dietary practices that can all be included, if
sometimes tenuously, within the category of
vegetarianism.
The Tibetan term that most closely
overlaps with the English term vegetarianism
is karsé172, which literally means ‘white food,’
contrasted with marsé,173 or ‘red food.’ Thus,
the term itself highlights the idea that such a
diet is free from bloodshed, free from killing.
In Tibet, therefore, vegetarianism primarily
172
Tib: dkar zas
173
Tib: dmar zas
Fig. 3: Tibetan restaurant in Manigego advertising both
karsé and marsé foods.
91
entailed the rejection of all forms of flesh, whether derived from mammals, birds or fish.
Vegetarianism, however, is an imperfect gloss for the Tibetan term karsé. While
vegetarianism implies an ongoing dietary practice, karsé refers simply to the food itself.
Thus, an individual who generally eats meat can order vegetarian food on any given day,
and be said to be eating karsé. Further, Tibetan literature lacks a consistent term for
someone who adopts such a diet, the equivalent of the English term ‘vegetarian.’ In
modern oral usage, both the term karsépa,174 ‘one who [eats] white food’ and sha maza
ken,175 ‘one who does not eat meat’, are used in this way. In older textual material,
however, these terms are rarely, if ever, attested, and I have not come across a standard
term for vegetarian.
Instead, the idea that an individual maintains a consistent vegetarian diet is
usually indicated through description. One example (among many) of such descriptive
phrasing can be found in Ngawang Lekpa’s (1864-1941) biography, “Since the time he
requested monk’s vows, he abandoned eating meat, drinking alcohol and eating after
noon.”176 The verb used in this and many other, similar description is pang177, to
abandon. In this case, pang refers to meat178, though it is also commonly used to refer to
negative traits that someone chooses to reject, such as anger, desire, and so forth. Unlike
174
Tib: dkar zas pa
175
Tib: sha ma za mkhan
176
kun dga’ bstan pa’i rgyal mtshan, Life of Ngawang Lekpa, 9.
gong smos dge slong gi sdom pa zhus nas bzung/ sha chang gi bza’ btung/ phyi dro’i kha zas rnams spangs
177
Tib: spangs, spong, spang, spongs
178
Tib: sha
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karsé, it does carry connotations that the object abandoned will stay abandoned; while
karsé can refer to a single meal, the use of pang implies that meat will not be eaten again.
It is worth noting that the use of the term pang to describe the rejection of meat is
remarkably consistent across Tibetan history. We have already seen it used in Ngawang
Lekpa’s twentieth century biography, but very similar formulations also appear in The
Blue Annals of 1478, and The Great Kagyü Biographies of 1245.179 If the terminology used
to describe it is any indication, vegetarianism seems to have been adopted in a fairly
consistent manner by Tibetans widely separated in terms of time and space.
Speaking broadly, therefore, vegetarianism in Tibet generally entailed the
rejection of all forms of flesh, often for an individual’s entire life. Such a diet forms a
baseline against which other forms of vegetarianism can be measured and seems to be
what most authors had in mind when they discuss a vegetarian diet. When I speak of
vegetarianism in this dissertation, I will usually be referring to such a diet.
At the same time, the term karsé, especially when contrasted with marszé,
emphasizes the rejection of meat rather than the adoption of a specific, named diet.
Conceptualizing vegetarianism in this way, as the negative rejection of certain foods
rather than the positive adoption of a particular diet, allows a certain flexibility, uniting
under a single umbrella a broad range of practices that all reject meat in one way or
another, but which differ in terms of their scope and duration.
179
On the dating of The Great Kagyü Biographies, see Roberts 9-11.
93
One obvious variant on the theme of vegetarianism is the reduction—but not
elimination—of meat in an individual’s diet. Several modern Tibetan religious leaders
have advocated this position, including the fourteenth Karmapa, Urgyen Trinlé Dorjé180
(b. 1985), who has said that it is best if his followers can give up meat entirely, but that if
this is impossible, they should at least reduce their consumption.181 Similarly, the 14th
Dalai Lama, Tenzin Gyatso (b. 1935), has suggested that in the contemporary age, when
non-meat foods are widely available, it would be best if Tibetans could at least reduce
their meat consumption.182 The Dalai Lama himself embodies such an approach, eating
meat occasionally, but maintaining a vegetarian diet “most of the time.”183
Inside contemporary Tibet, lamas such as Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö (b. circa
1970s) have also advocated reducing meat consumption as much as possible, even if that
does not entail full vegetarianism.184 Perhaps following the advice of the Dalai Lama,
Karmapa and Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö, many informants told me that while they were
not vegetarian per se, they did try to reduce their meat consumption. In the context of
contemporary Tibetan Buddhism, therefore, it is clear that reducing one’s consumption
of meat is seen as a viable alternative, if full vegetarianism is too difficult.
180
Urgyen Trinlé Dorjé is one of two claimants to the title of Karmapa, along with Trinlé Tayé Dorjé
(1983- ). This is not the place for a long discussion of this controversy, but within contemporary Tibet
itself, Urgyen Trinlé Dorjé is almost universally accepted as the rightful Karmapa.
181
Karmapa 17 Orgyen Trinle Dorje, Talk on Not Eating Meat, 5.
182
bstan 'dzin rgya mtsho, Dalai Lama’s Talks on Environment, 131. His Holiness the XIV Dalai Lama,
His Holiness the XIV Dalai Lama on the Environment, 93.
183
The Dalai Lama has sometimes been said to eat meat only every other day. (Phelps, 156) The Dalai
Lama himself, however, reports only that he tries to reduce his meat consumption by eating vegetarian
“most of the time.” (His Holiness the Dalai Lama, “Non-Vegetarian Food,” 7, 58)
94
Interestingly, however, I have found much less evidence of this in pre-modern
literature. Pema Nyinjé Wangpo, the ninth Tai Situ incarnation (1774-1853), makes a
passing reference to such a practice, “Giving up meat and alcohol for a week, bathing on
auspicious days and giving beings life by ransoming them, when connected with pure
aspirations, binds benefit for oneself and others.”185 Temporary vegetarianism is thus
cataloged with other virtuous practices as a way of creating positive karmic results in the
future.
Another brief reference to such practices comes from Briliant Moon, the
autobiography of Dilgo Khyentsé (1910-1991). Dilgo Khyentsé recalls that in his youth,
he read texts by Jigmé Lingpa (1730-1798) that detailed animal suffering. Feeling
inspired, “[he] took a vow to eat meat only once a day.”186 The texts Dilgo Khyentsé was
reading explicitly critique meat, but do not mention reducing meat consumption.
Further, Dilgo Khyentsé makes no suggestion that this once-a-day vow was unique to
himself. These references, therefore, hold out the possibility that reducing, but not
eliminating, meat consumption may have been a culturally sanctioned response to the
anti-meat statements found in texts like these. Still, these are the only two references to
184
tshul khrims blo 'gros, Words to Increase Virtue, 196.
185
padma nyin byed dbang po, Treasury of the Qualities of Amrita, 235.
zhag bdun sha chang spangs zhing/ gza' skar 'phrod sbyor dge bar rdo rje rnam 'joms kyi khrus zhu shing/ sems can
gyi srog bslu tshe thar nges shig byas te dge pa'i 'dun pa bzang po'i mtshams sbyor dang bcas rang gzhan gyi mgul du
'chang
186
Dilgo Khyentsé, Brilliant Moon, 80.
I am unaware of a Tibetan edition of this text.
95
reducing—but not eliminating—meat consumption that I have found, making it difficult
to conclude that this was a common practice prior to the last few decades.
Another variant on vegetarianism that is commonly mentioned by contemporary
informants, but which has few attestations in pre-modern literature is a preference for
eating large animals, such as yaks, rather than smaller ones, such as goats, chickens, pigs
or fish. Many informants told me that it was better to eat a larger animal, as such
animals could provide more meat with only a single death. You have to kill a lot of
chickens to come up with the quantity of meat derived from a single yak.187 While this
attitude was mentioned several times by contemporary Tibetans, I have not found any
evidence for it in textual sources. Further, few of the Tibetans who mentioned this idea
claimed to have actually given up the consumption of smaller animals because of it.
Meats such as chicken and fish are rare among Tibetans anyway, and many Tibetans find
fish, in particular, to be distasteful. It is hard, therefore, to resist the conclusion that such
arguments are an ex post facto justification for Tibetan dietary preferences, rather than a
motivating force for a form of partial vegetarianism.
One potential variant of vegetarianism that I have not found in a Tibetan context
is veganism, the strict rejection of all animal products, including dairy, eggs and even
honey.188 In her Autobiography, the eighteenth century nun Orgyen Chökyi (1675-1729)
187
This attitude is the direct inverse of some western vegetarians, who reject red meat but eat fish
(pescetarianism) and / or chicken (pollotarianism). The attitude here seems to be that animals with higher
mental capacities suffer more when killed, while chickens and fish, with presumably lower mental
capacities, do not suffer as much.
188
At least, not until quite recently: Tibetan Volunteers for Animals began promoting veganism at the
Dalai Lama’s 2012 Kalachakra initiation.
96
laments that when she milks her goats, she is taking the milk away from the goat’s kids,
but the text makes clear that she does not translate this sadness to a rejection of dairy
products.189 Likewise, while some recent Tibetan vegetarians have argued that eggs are a
form of meat and should be rejected, I have found little evidence for this attitude in
earlier literature.190 One recent work suggests that Drakpa Gyeltsen (1147-1216) rejected
eggs along with meat and alcohol, but I have been unable to find similar claims in earlier
texts.191 Eggs were rare in Tibet, however, so authors may not have felt a need to
explicitly include them in their anti-meat works. Finally, Jigmé Lingpa’s Autobiography
mentions that he purchased a mountain in order to protect the bees that lived there from
being killed in the process of harvesting honey.192 As with Orgyen Chökyi’s
Autobiography, however, the text gives no indication his concern for bees extended to a
rejection of honey in his diet.
Beyond these specific forms of what we might term partial vegetarianism,
vegetarianism may also be adopted during specific circumstances, rather than on a long
term basis. Among the most common of these are specific festival dates, most
prominently Saga Dawa.193 This holiday, commemorating the Buddha’s birth, death and
enlightenment, is nominally observed on the fifteenth day of the fourth lunar month but
is often expanded into a month of festivities. As with other special dates, the karma that
189
o rgyan chos skyid. Autobiography, 8. Schaeffer, Himalayan Hermitess, 22.
190
Kyabje Chatral Rinpoché, Powerful Message.
191
Chogye Trichen, Four Attachments, 14-15.
192
‘jigs med gling pa, Autobiography, 395.
193
Tib: sa ga zla ba
97
is accumulated during this time—either good or bad—is believed to be magnified; a bad
deed will accrue worse karma during Saga Dawa than during other times, while a good
deed will bring more positive karma.
Drawing on this idea, many contemporary Tibetan informants reported that they
adopted vegetarianism for the month, or even just the day, of Saga Dawa, a practice that
has been encouraged by local religious leaders. One unsigned text message that was
being circulated among Tibetans during Saga Dawa in 2012, for instance, specifically
called upon people to avoid meat during the month-long festivities.194 Similarly, Khenpo
Tsültrim Lodrö’s Words to Increase Virtue, one of his most important works on
vegetarianism, was first given as an oral teaching on Saga Dawa in 2003.
Unlike reducing meat consumption and preferring only large animals, there is also
significant textual evidence for the adoption of vegetarianism on specific holy days.
Karma Pakshi (1202-1283), the second Karmapa, recalls with some pride that he
convinced the Mongol Emperor Möngke (1209-1259) to ban animal slaughtering and
meat consumption during the four phases of the moon each month.195 As with Saga
Dawa, the effects of karma are held to be heightened during these times, making morally
upstanding practices more important on these days.
194
195
Anonymous text message received by author, June 23, 2012.
karma pakShi, Autobiography, 102-103.
Karma Pakshi’s Autobiography mentions that meat was not eaten on “the four times of the eleventh month”
(zla ba bcu gcig dus bzhi). The specifics of this reference are unclear to me, and in the paraphrase here I
follow Karma Thinley’s interpretation. (Karma Thinley, History, 50)
98
Some individuals also abandoned meat during periods of intensive religious
practice. This is found in contemporary texts, such as Khenpo Karthar’s (b. 1924)
Mountain Dharma, where he notes that while meat is generally permitted, it is not
allowed during periods of retreat.196 There is also good evidence for such practices during
earlier periods. The Blue Annals, for instance, a religious history written in 1478, recalls
several lamas who abandoned meat during extended periods of retreat.197 Likewise, Dilgo
Khyentsé, whom we have just seen take a vow to eat meat only once a day, also claims to
have abandoned meat completely during a retreat that lasted five or six years.198 In these
instances, it is clear that vegetarianism—or, in Dilgo Khyentsé’s case, full
vegetarianism—is adopted only during periods of intensive meditation and ritual practice.
One interesting question raised by these various diets is what, exactly, vegetarians
ate in pre-modern Tibet. Meat, after all, was a staple part of the diet for almost all
Tibetans. Unfortunately, few sources give explicit information about the meals eaten by
vegetarians, but there are enough hints that we can outline a few of the options available
beyond meat. Tsampa, roasted barley flour, was a staple for most Tibetans, and fully
compatible with vegetarianism. Butter and other dairy products such as curd and dried
cheese were also eaten by most Tibetans, and as veganism seems to have been mostly
unknown, generally considered compatible with vegetarianism. Many regions also
196
Khenpo Karthar Rinpoche, Karma Chakme’s Mountain Dharma, Vol 2, 161-162.
197
‘gos lo zhon nu dpal, Blue Annals, 794, 818. Roerich, Blue Annals, 677, 699.
198
Dilgo Khyentse, “Journey to Enlightenment,” 33.
99
harvested the wild troma199 root, a kind of small, wild sweet potato that the explorer
William Rockhill lists as the only vegetable available to nomads in Kham towards the end
of the nineteenth century.200 As Rockhill suggests, one food that was not available was
fruits or vegetables, which were rarely grown in Tibet prior to the last few decades.
While the evidence is limited, it seems that all of these foods were regularly eaten
by vegetarians. Shabkar (1781-1851), for one, suggests that rather than meat, people
should, “eat other food instead, troma, for instance, curd or other things.”201 In some
regions, however, other foods were available, notably rice. Writing in early twentieth
century Kham, Sera Khandro (1892-1940) notes that her patrons regularly gave her any
food they had that wasn’t meat, including rice and troma.202 Sera Khandro does not say
where the rice came from, but as the Tibetan climate is not suitable for its cultivation, it
seems likely to have been imported from China. As such, it seems unlikely that rice
would have been a significant part of the diet for most Tibetan vegetarians, bringing us
back to tsampa, butter, curd and troma as the most likely staples.
In addition to the actual adoption of a vegetarian diet, Tibetans have a variety of
ritual methods for reducing the problematic nature of meat. There are a variety of
prayers, for instance, that can be used to ameliorate some of the negativity that is
associated with eating meat. One such text, composed by the nineteenth century lama
199
Tib: gro ma
200
Rockhill, Land of the Lamas, 190.
201
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Nectar of Immortality, 584. Shabkar, Food of Bodhisattvas, 102.
202
se ra mkha’ ‘dro, Autobiography, 130. Jacoby, Consorts and Revelations, 295.
100
Karmé Khenpo203 (1835-19th/20th c.), takes the form of an apology, acknowledging that
the practitioner’s consumption of meat has harmed the animal.204 The prayer then
proceeds to ask that the animal be re-born in a pureland,205 and that the practitioner’s
negative karma be cleansed, and even that the butcher who slaughtered the meat be
purified of negativity.206 Thus, while this prayer is not promoting vegetarianism per se, it
clearly reflects a general understanding of meat as sinful.
Such prayers form an important part of many Tibetans’ relationship with meat.
The eighteenth century lama Jigmé Lingpa, for instance, claims to have recited prayers
such as this one during periods of retreat early in his life.207 Later, he suggested the
recitation of prayers and mantras to students who recognized the negative aspects of
eating meat, but who did not feel capable of adopting a vegetarian diet.208 For Jigmé
Lingpa and others, offering prayers before eating a meat-based meal was a way to
recognize the negativity of meat without having to actually abandon it.209
Some Tibetans have also drawn a distinction between meat that comes from
animals that have been intentionally slaughtered and meat that comes from animals who
203
Attribution of this prayer to Karmé Khenpo is speculative at best. the text’s colophon lists the author as
a Khampa named ‘Vinaya-holding Ratna’, a name which the Rangjung Yeshé website lists as a pseudonym
for Karmé Khenpo. (http://rywiki.tsadra.org/index.php/gter_slob_'dul_'dzin_ratna - retrieved 8/27/2012)
204
Anonymous, Prayer to Purify, 6.
205
A land that forms around a Buddha, said to be exceedingly pleasant and a perfect environment for
making rapid advances on the path to one’s own enlightenment.
206
Anonymous, Prayer to Purify, 7.
207
‘jigs med gling pa, Ocean of Wondrous Advice, 705. Rigdzin Jigme Lingpa, Wondrous Ocean of Advice, 5.
208
‘jigs med gling pa, Engaging the Path, 723. Jigme Lingpa, “Entering the Path of Enlightenment,” 133.
209
For more on Jigmé Lingpa’s use of prayers to ameliorate meat’s negativity, see: Barstow, “Buddhism
Between Abstinence and Indulgence,” 90-91.
101
have died naturally. As will be discussed below, meat’s negativity derives from the belief
that killing an animal causes it to suffer greatly. By eating only the meat of animals that
have died naturally, an individual can avoid any complicity with the death of the animal,
and can eat with a clear conscience.
One lama who advocated this position was the polymath Jamgön Kongtrül (18131899), whose 1865 Encyclopedia of Knowledge labels “meat that has been killed for either
food or profit” as impure food.210 This idea is expanded upon by the Bönpo master
Shardza Tashi Gyeltsen (1859-1935), in his short work, The Shortcomings of Eating Meat.
Shardza argues strenuously that meat is an evil food. He then argues, however, that meat
is necessary for human health, and that to abstain would be to reject the possibilities
inherent in a human life. His solution to this dilemma is to eat only ‘pure meat;’ meat
derived from animals that have died naturally.211
Ethnographic data indicates that a diet that relies solely on meat from animals
that have died naturally is feasible. As mentioned previously, residents of villages in the
Lhagang region of Kham took a communal vow to not slaughter any of their animals, a
vow which was largely kept at least until the summer of 2012.212 Instead of slaughtering
their animals, residents relied meat that had died accidentally, including through
210
‘jam mgon kong sprul blo gros mtha’ yas, Treasury of Knowledge, 379. Jamgon Kongtrül, Buddhist Ethics,
247.
kha na ma tho ba'i zas ni rin dang bza' ba'i don du bsad pa'i sha sogs pa
211
212
shar rdza bkra shis rgyal mtshan, Shortcomings, 333.
This was in response to a call from Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö for communities to adopt, en masse, a set of
vows he terms ‘the new ten virtues,’ as discussed in the previous chapter. All residents interviewed,
including nomads and restauranteurs, insisted that the vow against slaughtering animals was kept strictly.
102
lightning strikes, wolf-kills and other accidents. Despite the ban on slaughtering, meat
continues to be consumed in these villages, though residents report that it is not as
plentiful as it had been.213
The anthropologist Geoff Childs has reported that in Nubri, an ethnically
Tibetan region of Nepal, some herders have been known to intentionally lead their
animals close to cliffs, with the hope that the animals will fall and die, allowing the
herder to harvest their meat without actually slaughtering them.214 This raises the
possibility that some of these animals’ ‘natural’ deaths may not have been so natural.
While it is difficult to intentionally induce lightening strikes, accidents are another
matter. That said, one well-travelled Tibetan, writing a century ago, insisted that he had
never encountered such phenomena, declaring such stories (which have circulated among
European scholars for more than a century) to be European fabrications.215 Further,
nomads and villagers that I questioned insisted that they would never engage in such
deception, ridiculing anyone who thought they could avoid the sin of killing in this
manner. Thus, while I have no cause to doubt Childs’ account of practices in Nubri, I
am skeptical that such intentional accidents are widespread among Tibetans more
broadly.
213
Some village residents admitted that some meat was imported from nearby Dartsedo, but all insisted
that this was only a small amount.
214
Childs, “Methods, Meanings and Representations,” 2.
215
Richardus, Tibetan Lives, 100.
103
While not specifically concerned with diet, it is also worth noting the practice of
tsetar,216 or ‘life-ransoming.’ In tsetar, a practitioner purchases an animal otherwise
destined for slaughter and releases it into the wild, sometimes after being marked so that
its ransomed status is apparent. Often, the actual purchase and release of the animals is
incorporated into a larger ritual context, and several different liturgies exist. In this way,
the animals are blessed, so that their liberation from slaughter in this life will be mirrored
in a liberation from samsaric suffering in a future life.217
Ritual manuals for tsetar emphasize that the karmic benefits of the practice extend
beyond the animals themselves, also benefiting the practitioner who ransoms the animals.
Specifically, saving lives through tsetar is said to increase the practitioner’s own life-span.
This relationship between intentionally saving the lives of animals and increasing one’s
own life-span is strong enough that some Tibetan lamas have specifically prescribed tsetar
rituals as a means to alleviate poor health.218 Further, tsetar is sometimes said to
specifically counteract the sin of meat eating. One unsigned and undated Gelukpa text,
for instance, claims that, “If one who has consumed the lives of beings is going to die in
three days, but ransoms thirteen beings, they will certainly live for three years.”219
216
Tib: tshe thar
217
Jamyang Khyentsé Wangpo, Increasing Life and Prosperity. Chatral Rinpoche, “The Benefits of Saving
Lives.”
218
219
Jamyang Khyentsé Wangpo, Increasing Life and Prosperity, 1.
Anonymous, Benefits of Tsetar, 50.
tshe zad pa'i mi zhig zhag gsum 'chi nges pa la tshe thar bcu gsum btang na mi de lo gsum tshe bsring nges par 'gyur
ro
104
Despite this passage, it is important to note that tsetar is not necessarily connected
with vegetarianism; many individuals ransom animals in this way while continuing to
maintain a meat-based diet. That said, the animals ransomed during tsetar are generally
domestic animals raised for food, or fish caught for consumption. While it does not
imply an abstinence from meat, therefore, it both draws upon and reinforces the idea that
killing animals for meat is a negative act.
As reflected in the Tibetan terms themselves, there is no set vegetarian diet in
Tibet. As a baseline, we may speak of vegetarianism in Tibet as the rejection of all forms
of flesh. When I speak of vegetarianism in this dissertation, this is generally what I am
referring to. At the same time, however, we have seen that there are a constellation of
other practices that are related to this baseline notion of vegetarianism, but which differ
in important ways. Whatever their differences in scope, duration or object, however, all
of these practices are united by the understanding that meat is a bad thing to eat and the
commitment to do something to ameliorate that negativity.
The Demands of Compassion
This raises an obvious question: why would some Tibetans consider meat a
negative, sinful food? As will be discussed in detail in the next chapter of this
dissertation, meat plays an important role in the Tibetan dietary, cultural and economic
systems. So why would some Tibetans reject it, even partially? The rest of this chapter
will attempt to answer this question, investigating the specific ways in which the doctrine
105
of compassion is invoked to support a vegetarian diet, as well as those ancillary
arguments, such as the fear of negative karma, that derive from Tibetan Buddhism’s
understanding of compassion.
It is hard to overstate the importance of compassion in Tibetan conceptions of
their religion. Tibetan Buddhism defines itself as a branch of the Mahāyāna, or ‘Great
Vehicle’, school of Buddhism. Adherents of the Mahāyāna, in turn, define themselves as
those who strive to place the needs of others before their own, contrasting this with other
schools of Buddhism, which they claim are interested only in personal religious
achievement. This attitude is embodied in the figure of the Bodhisattva,220 a spiritual
hero who has vowed to postpone their own enlightenment until all other beings have
achieved the happiness of nirvana. Such a mental orientation, placing others’ needs
before one’s own, is termed ‘compassion.’221 For Tibetan Buddhists and other
Mahāyānists, compassion is held to be the highest form of religious motivation and
becoming a Bodhisattva is the highest form of religious accomplishment. Rather than
being primarily concerned with one’s own suffering, therefore, individuals are called upon
to practice religion out of concern for the sufferings of others.
In addition to its adherence to Mahāyāna Buddhism, Tibetan Buddhism also
claims allegiance to Tantric Buddhism. Tantra differs considerably from other forms of
Buddhism, often idealizing antinomian practices. As will be discussed in detail below,
220
221
Tib: byang chub sems dpa’
Skt: bodhicitta
Tib: byang chub gyi sems
Literally, ‘The Mind of Enlightenment’.
106
Tibetan Buddhism’s allegiance to Tantric ideals complicates the religion’s relationship
with meat and vegetarianism. At the same time as Tantric practices invoke antinomian
ideals, however, most Tibetan commentators insist that the underlying motivation for
Tantric practice should be compassion, just like other forms of Mahāyāna Buddhism.
While Tantra involves a collection of esoteric practices, the underlying compassionate
motivation remains the same: to relieve the suffering of other beings.
Ultimately, beings suffer because they remain mired in samsara, the endless cycle
of birth and death characterized by suffering. The only escape from this cycle is
enlightenment. For practitioners who have resolved to relieve beings’ suffering, therefore,
the primary goal is to lead those beings to enlightenment. In order to do this, one must
first become enlightened oneself (or at least get close). For most religious Tibetans,
therefore, the practical result of a compassionate perspective is dedicated religious
practice and, in either this life or the next, a career teaching Buddhism.
It is worth emphasizing at this point that Tibetan conceptions of compassion are
explicitly directed towards animals as well as humans (and other non-human beings such
as gods, ghosts and hell-beings, for that matter). Like humans, animals are trapped in
the wheel of samsara. Also like humans, animals will eventually die and have the
potential to achieve birth in a higher—or lower—realm. The sufferings animals undergo
differ from those humans’ experience, but, ultimately, both categories of beings suffer in
samsara and both are worthy of being approached with compassion.222
222
This differs dramatically from the Judeo-Christian tradition, which strongly emphasizes the disparity
between animals and humans. (White, “Historical Roots of Our Ecological Crisis”)
107
A compassionate motivation, therefore, is primarily focused on helping other
beings—human, animal, god or ghost—achieve religious goals. At the same time, there
is an expectation that compassion should be more than an abstract motivation for other
religious practices. Ideally, a compassionate individual should not other beings’ worldly
needs. Accordingly, occupations that are seen as running counter to a compassionate
mindset, such as butchering and soldiering, are almost universally reviled among Tibetan
Buddhists. The taboo against butchering explains the intentional accidents mentioned by
Childs and also helps to explain the predominance of this profession among nonBuddhist Tibetans, such as the Muslims of Lhasa and Amdo.223
The importance Tibetan Buddhism places on compassion also results in an
emphasis on practices that directly help others. When directed towards people, this can
be seen in the beggars that congregate near temples and the donations they receive.
When directed towards animals, this emphasis on practical compassion can be seen in
tsetar, the ransoming of animals discussed above. The purchase and release of animals
undertaken in this context is understood to be a practical application of compassion,
freeing the animal from the suffering of slaughter.
Tibetan Buddhism’s understanding of compassion also forms the ethical basis for
vegetarianism. Eating meat, after all, is impossible without the death of an animal. Like
other forms of Buddhism, Tibetan Buddhism assumes the existence of past and future
lives, and the transition from one life to the next is believed to be highly traumatic. The
223
Childs, “Methods, Meanings and Representations,” 2. Berzin, “A Buddhist View of Islam,” 238.
108
process is described most famously in the Liberation Upon Hearing in the Intermediate
State, more popularly known as the Tibetan Book of the Dead. This text describes the
death process in intricate detail, beginning with the forced separation from everything the
dying individual knows and loves, then continuing with a series of horrific visions.
Traumatic under the most peaceful circumstances, the death process becomes even worse
when a being dies violently. In such circumstances, the traumatic emotions of the death
experience compound the inherent trauma of dying, increasing the suffering of the
intermediate period and ultimately leading to an inferior birth.224
Such theoretical claims are supported by the recollection of individuals who claim
to have returned from the dead, and, therefore, to have experienced the dying process.
Analyzing several biographies of such individuals, Brian Cuevas notes that, “First and
foremost, the death experience is described as extremely frightening and physically
unpleasant.”225 Whether or not we accept that these individuals did, in fact, die and
return, it is clear that in Tibetan conceptions death is not a peaceful process of slipping
quietly into a new body, but a horrific and confusing barrage of sense stimuli. In a word,
death is suffering.
This same process occurs for animals as well as humans. Again aligning with
other forms of Buddhism, Tibetan Buddhists generally assert that animals participate in
the same samsaric cycle of which humans are part. They are believed to be less
intelligent, but they suffer in ways that are fundamentally similar to the suffering
224
Padmasambhava, Tibetan Book of the Dead.
109
experienced by humans. Patrül Rinpoché (1808-1887) makes this point clearly, “As soon
as a lamb is born, its senses are complete. It can feel comfort and discomfort. But it is
immediately killed, just as it first begins to enjoy life. It may be only a stupid animal, but
it is afraid of dying. It loves life, but experiences the pain of dying.”226 It is worth noting
that in Tibetan conceptions, plants are not believed to be sentient, and do not, therefore,
suffer in the same way that animals and humans do.227
Given these beliefs about the death process, it is not surprising that most Tibetans
find the idea of killing animals to be incompatible with the compassionate orientation
advocated by Tibetan Buddhism. Butchering is an almost universally reviled profession.
As we have seen, however, this does not mean that most Tibetans were vegetarian. Using
Tibetan Buddhism’s compassionate ideal to argue for vegetarianism requires making a
connection between the consumption of meat and the killing of the animal in question.
As will be discussed in detail in the next chapter, many Tibetans seeking to explain their
consumption of meat make a distinction between the killing of the animal and the eating
of its meat. By the time they purchase the meat, they argue, the animal is already dead,
so they have no responsibility for the animal’s death.
225
Cuevas, Travels in the Netherworld, 26.
226
dpal sprul o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 121. Patrül Rinpoché,
The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 80.
lu gu 'phral du skyes pa de dbang po thams cad rdzogs/ bde sdug gi tshor ba dang ldan/ lus kyang nyams brtas/ gson
pa'i dang po skyid par yod pa'i dus su 'phral du bsad pa yin/ rmongs pa dud 'gro yin yang 'chi ba la ni 'tsher/ gson pa
la ni dga'/ gnad gcod kyi sdug bsngal ni myong/
227
Some forms of Indian religion, do, in fact, hold this belief. The Jaiminīya Brāhmaṇa of roughly 600
BCE, for instance, mentions that vegetables ‘scream silently’ when cut. (Doniger, The Hindus, 148)
Similarly, some early Buddhists believed that plants had a level of sentience and were able to suffer.
(Schmithausen, “Plants as Sentient Beings,” 1991)
110
It should not be surprising that many pro-vegetarian authors reject this idea.
Again, we can turn to Jigmé Lingpa for an illuminating example. As mentioned
previously, Jigmé Lingpa’s short Tale of the Deer presents a dialogue between a hunter and
a hermit. The hermit accuses the hunter of being non-virtuous, but the hunter responds
by accusing the hermit of hypocrisy, “Even if it is hunters like me who do the actual
killing, the meat is bought and eaten by all of the so called ‘religious ascetics.’ It is
laughable to claim there is a difference between the sin of killing and the sin of eating.”228
While the hermit wins the overall argument, he is forced to agree on this point, “It is
true: the religious ascetics who behave immorally, and the monks who uphold the 250
vows of the monastic code will all be pursued by their karma.”229
Perhaps not surprisingly, given the strength of his opposition to meat eating,
Shabkar also rejects this idea in no uncertain terms, “If there are no meat-eaters, there
will be no killers. This is just like India and Nepal, where there are no tea merchants
because people do not drink tea.”230 For Shabkar, Jigmé Lingpa and others, it is obvious
that while someone who buys meat in a market is not killing the animal with their own
hand, they are responsible for the economic system that supports the activity of butchers.
228
‘jigs med gling pa, Tale of the Deer, 759. Jigme Lingpa, Story of the Hunted Deer, 7.
229
‘jigs med gling pa, Tale of the Deer, 759. Jigme Lingpa, Story of the Hunted Deer, 7.
gsod pa rngon pa ngas gsod kyang/ za ba dge spyong rnams kyis za/ za dang gsod pa’i sdig pa la/ khyad par yod na
gad mo bro/ … tshul min spyod pa'i dge sbyong dang/ 'dul khrims srung ba'i nyan thos kyi/ nyis brgya lnga bcu'i
khrims rtsal/ las kyis bda' 'ded 'phyugs ba med/
230
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Nectar of Immortality, 582. Shabkar, Food of Bodhisattvas, 101.
At this time, India and Nepal had not yet begun growing or drinking tea.
sha za po med na gsod pa po mi ‘byung ste/ dper na rgya gar bal po’i mis ja mi ‘thung bas ja btsong mkhan med pa
bzhin no
111
Claiming it is acceptable to purchase meat from a hunter or a butcher is, in the words of
Jigmé Lingpa’s feisty hunter, “hypocritical.”231
In seeking to bolster this argument, authors such as Dolpopa (1292-1361), Jigmé
Lingpa, Shabkar, Nyakla Pema Düdül (1816-1873), Patrül and many others also turn to
the authority of canonical scripture, particularly the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra. As discussed in
the first chapter of this dissertation, the Tibetan version of this canonical sūtra includes
an entire chapter dedicated to the faults of eating meat. In particular, one oft-cited
passage explicitly connects the killing of the animal and the eventual consumption of its
meat, “If nobody ate meat, living beings would not be killed.”232 By citing this passage,
these pro-vegetarian authors place meat eating squarely in the category of actions that
harm beings, and which are, therefore, at odds with Tibetan Buddhism’s compassionate
ideal.
Having made clear that eating meat is directly responsible for the killing of
animals, these authors claim that meat is incompatible with a compassionate orientation.
Often, this claim is made using extremely vivid language, urging their readers to
sympathize with animals awaiting slaughter. In one of his longer passages about meat,
Jigmé Lingpa discusses an occasion when villagers offered meat to an assembly of lamas,
reflecting that, “Having now become animals, our previous lives' fathers, mothers,
siblings, friends, and so forth, all tremble with fear in these butchers' hands, panting for
231
232
‘jigs med gling pa, Tale of the Deer, 759. Jigme Lingpa, Story of the Hunted Deer, 7.
Shakyamuni, Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra, 155b.
gal te ji ltar yang su'ang sha mi za na ni de'i phyir srog chags rnams kyang gsod par mi 'gyur na/
112
breath with tears streaming from their eyes. In that state they wonder what to do. Alas,
there is no refuge!233” Jigmé Lingpa had a keen sense of animals suffering and tried to
communicate that sense to his readers.
Using similarly vivid language, the Bön exegete Nyammé Sherab Gyeltsen (13561415) asks his disciples to reflect on the suffering that eating meat entails, “How pitiful it
would be to take it in your hands! Just smelling it brings on nausea. Once it is tasted by
the tongue, how can it be kept down?”234 Turning such language away from the act of
eating and towards the eater, Patrül’s Words of My Perfect Teacher evocatively describes a
young, meat eating bride as a “red-faced monster.”235
The Words of My Perfect Teacher is well known for its evocative language and
passages which excoriate various sinful behaviors. For Jigmé Lingpa, Nyammé Sherab
Gyeltsen and others, however, the language used to describe meat is distinctive and
notably more vivid than that found in other parts of their work. This suggests that these
authors are trying to provoke an emotional response on the part of their readers, hoping,
presumably, that readers will identify with the suffering animals undergo for the sake of
meat, and thereby reduce their consumption. Patrül makes this point explicit, “When
you see animals suffering like this, imagine that you are that animal, and reflect on how
233
‘jigs med gling pa, Autobiography, 125-126.
lag tu rang gi skye ba sngon ma'i pha dang/ ma dang/ spun zla gnyen bshes la sogs pa de dag mthar chags su rtsis
sprod byas ba'i tshe/ ma rgan de dag lus 'dar phri li li/ mig mchi ma khram khram/ dbugs spud pa lhed lhed pa'i
ngang nas 'di snyam du/ da ci drag kyi hud/ 'bros sa ni med/
234
mnyam med shes rab rgyal mtshan, Received Vinaya, 49.
lag tu blang na ya re nga/ sna yis dri tshor skyug re bro/ lce yi ro las blangs nas su/ khong du bstim pas lugs ci yod/
235
dpal sprul o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 157. Patrül Rinpoché,
The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 103.
113
much suffering it is experiencing.”236 The vivid language used in such critiques of meat
eating, therefore, rests on an emotional identification with the suffering an animal
undergoes as it is killed, combined with what the authors assume to be an internalized
ethic foregrounding compassion.
The idea that animals are deserving of compassion is furthered by the idea that, at
one time or another over the course of infinite lives, any being was once your mother. In
most forms of Tibetan Buddhism, time is generally held to be beginningless.237 Since
time has no beginning, each being has, essentially, had an infinite number of lives. At
one point or another during that time, any given being must have been related to you as a
mother, father, friend, lover, and so forth. Given that every being you meet was once
related to you as a parent, these texts suggest, they deserve the same consideration and
respect that you would give your present mother.
We have already seen this idea in the above quote, where Jigmé Lingpa asks
readers to remember that the animal trembling before them was once their loving
parent.238 Jigmé Lingpa, however, is not the only author sympathetic to vegetarianism
who has invoked this idea. Almost every author who supports vegetarianism, in fact,
srin mo gdong dmar ma
236
dpal sprul o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 117. Patrül Rinpoché,
The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 77.
de ltar sdug bsngal ba’i sems can mthong tsa na de rang nyid yin pa’i blo bzhag nas sdug bsngal ci tsam ‘dug la sogs
pa zhib tu bsams nas/
237
A notable exception is found in texts related to Dzogchen, which provide a mythology in which time
begins as a spontaneous eruption from the primordial Buddha Samantabhadra. (Kapstein, Samantabhadra
and Rudra)
238
‘jigs med gling pa, Autobiography, 125-126.
114
makes this argument in one form or another. A further example can be found in Nyakla
Pema Düdül’s Advice on Abandoning Meat:
In the seven worlds, vast as heaven, there has not been a single being
who has not been my mother, without exception. All the mother’s
milk we’ve drunk would fill a billion oceans. Without hypocrisy, I take
the three jewels as witness: In the future, may the thought of eating
[meat] not even enter my mind.239
Again, by identifying meat with the suffering of what were once loving family
members, these authors are asking their readers to engage with the dead animal on an
emotional level. We should not assume too much about authorial intention, but it seems
clear that these writers hope to provoke an emotional response in their readers, which, in
turn, will lead to the decision to renounce meat.
In addition to such emotionally freighted arguments, however, the pro-vegetarian
discourse also includes more intellectual strategies, such as questioning the compatibility
of a meat-based diet with the Bodhisattva vow. This vow, which commits the individual
to placing the needs of others before their own, is taken by almost everyone seriously
engaged with Tibetan Buddhist practice. It formalizes the adoption of a Bodhisattva’s
compassion to the extent that taking this vow is often said to demarcate the boundary
between those who adhere to the Hīnayāna path and those who practice the Mahāyāna.
239
nyag bla padma bdud ‘dul, Advice, 164. Nyala Pema Duddul, “Song of Advice,” 4.
mkha’ mnyam ‘jig rten bdun po ma lus pa/ bdag gi a mar ma gyur gcig kyang med/ nu ‘o ‘thung ba stong gsum
mtsho dang nyam/ kha zhe med do mchog gsum dpang po bzhag/ … /phyin chad za snang yid la shar tsam med/
115
Given the connections we have seen pro-vegetarian authors establish between
eating meat and the killing of animals, it is not surprising that these writers generally
argue that meat is forbidden to those who have taken the Bodhisattva vow. To provide
just one example among many, Jigmé Lingpa writes, “Rather than another system, where
one pretends to be a follower of the Mahāyāna, but seeks only to eat meat and drink
alcohol, those who follow after the Buddha’s great heart-teaching seek only to save the
lives of beings.”240
Other writers are explicit that meat is permitted for those who have not taken the
Bodhisattva vow, but is forbidden for those who have. Sakya Paṇḍita (1180-1251), for
instance, asserts that, “Śrāvakas [Hīnayāna practitioners] may eat meat that has threefold
purity. To refuse would be the conduct of Devadatta. In the Mahāyāna, meat is
repudiated. Eating it is said to be the cause of birth in the lower realms.”241 For Sakya
Paṇḍita, as well as many others, meat is only forbidden once one has become a Mahāyāna
practitioner through taking the Bodhisattva vow.
Once again, many authors support their contention that meat is incompatible
with the Bodhisattva vow by citing the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra. Among the most commonly
240
‘jigs med gling pa, Chariot of the Two Truths, vol 1, 349.
theg pa chen po'i gang zag tu khas 'ches nas sha chang gi bza' btung 'ba' zhig don du gnyer ba ni lugs gzhan pa zhig
las bdag cag gi ston pa thugs sde chen po dang ldan pa de'i rjes su zhugs pa rnams kyis ni sems can gyi srog skyob pa
'ba' zhig dang du blang zhing
241
kun dga' rgyal btshan, Distinguishing the Three Vows, 34. Sakya Paṇḍita Künga Gyaltsen, A Clear
Differentiation, 66.
nyan thos rnam gsum dag pa’i sha/ bza’ rung gal te mi za na/ lhas byin gyi ni brtul zhugs ‘gyur/ theg pa che las sha
rnams bkag/ zos na ngan ‘gro’i rgyu ru gsungs/
116
cited passages from this canonical Sūtra are lines explaining that while Hīnayāna
practitioners are allowed to eat meat, it is forbidden to those with Bodhisattva vows:
O Mahamati, you may believe that I have permitted [eating of meat],
or that I have permitted it for those Śrāvakas who are near to me. But,
I have condemned the eating of meat for those who live in charnel
grounds and who perform the yoga of dwelling in love, those sons and
daughters of my lineage who have correctly entered the Mahāyāna and
who consider all beings to be their only child.242
Thus, the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra proscribes meat for Mahāyāna practitioners, in
explicit contrast to those who adhere to the Hīnayāna, whose consumption of meat is
allowed, if only grudgingly. By citing this text, authors ground their argument that meat
is incompatible with those who have taken the Bodhisattva vow in canonical scripture.
Thus, in addition to the emotionally laden arguments discussed previously, many authors
ground their critique of meat in legalistic arguments concerning the conduct that is
permitted for holders of the Bodhisattva vow. Whatever an individual thinks of meat
eating, this argument goes, it remains forbidden to all who have this vow.
If Tibetan Buddhism’s espousal of the Bodhisattva’s compassionate ideal is used
to support pro-vegetarian arguments, Tibetan Buddhism’s Tantric aspect offers
significant complications. Drawing on Tantra’s antinomian aspects, some Tibetans argue
that Tantric practitioners are actually required to eat meat.
242
Shakyamuni, Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra, 156a-156b.
blo gros chen po gal te ngas gnang bar bya bar 'dod dam/ nga'i nyan thos rnams kyis bsnyen par rung ba zhig yin na
ni/ byams pas gnas pa'i rnal 'byor can dur khrod pa rnams dang/ theg pa chen po la yang dag par zhugs pa'i rigs kyi
117
Tantric practice famously includes many practices considered impure or unethical
by more conventional forms of Buddhism.243 Among these practices is the ritual
consumption of meat. Typically, this occurs during collective food offering rituals, where
participants gather and ceremonially offer food to the Tantric deities. As part of the
ritual, participants eat a portion of this food as a blessing. According to many ritual texts,
such Tantric feasts must include both meat and alcohol. For many Tibetan lamas,
participation in such rituals, including the consumption of meat, is mandatory for all who
have received Tantric initiation. Lobsang Yeshé Tenpé Rabgyé (1759-1816), the second
throne holder of the Gelukpa monastery of Reting and one of Shabkar’s teachers, makes
this point clearly, “If you see the meat and beer of the ritual feast as impure and
unsuitable, and therefore fail to partake, ... it is a sin against the root and branch vows of
secret mantra that must be openly confessed.”244
Most Tibetans lamas agree that Tantric vows—incurred by all who take Tantric
initiation—supersede the Bodhisattva vow. The theory behind this will be discussed in
detail in the next chapter of this dissertation, but it is important here to note that for
most theorists, when vows conflict, a practitioner should adhere to the requirements of
their Tantric vows, rather than the Bodhisattva vows. Thus, lamas who are otherwise
staunch vegetarians are willing to consume meat in the context of the ritual feast. Even
bu dang/ rigs kyi bu mo rnams la sems can thams cad bu gcig bzhin du 'du shes bsgom pa'i phyir sha thams cad za ba
gcod par yang byas so/
243
244
For a good introduction to tantric principles in general, see: White, Tantra in Practice, 3-36.
blo bzang ye shes bstan pa rab rgyas, Explaining the Three Vows, 162-163.
tshogs kyi rdzas sha chang sogs la mi gtsang ba dang mi rung ba'i bsam dang du mi len pa dang/ … rdo rje theg
pa'i tsa ba dang yan lag gi nyes ba mtha' dag mthol lo bshags so//
118
Shabkar, whose works are among the most rigorously pro-vegetarian to be found in
Tibetan literature, followed this principle and ate meat when performing feast rituals.245
Jigmé Lingpa, whom we have elsewhere seen argue strongly in favor of
vegetarianism, explains this requirement in his Commentary on the ‘Gathered Intention of
the Lamas’:
When performing many ritual feasts, look at base and dirty foods such
as the five meats, five nectars, garlic, onions, and impure meats such as
fish and pork and [regard them] all as feast substances. Because they
are feast substances, dividing things into pure and impure, clean and
unclean, all dualistic thinking, must be abandoned. Through regarding
it all as non-dual, the nectars naturally become useable.246
For Jigmé Lingpa, substances that would otherwise be considered unclean,
including meat, are revealed as primordially pure through the feast offering ritual. It is
because of this purity that meat is an acceptable offering for the deities and an acceptable
food for the practitioner. This attitude towards the use of meat in ritual is not
universal—Jikten Sumgön (1143-1217) argued against the use of meat in such contexts—
but it was widespread, and many otherwise vegetarian lamas allow, and even mandate the
use of meat during such ritual feasts.247
245
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Autobiography, 380a. Shabkar, Life of Shabkar, 449.
246
‘jigs med gling pa, Commentary on ‘Gathered Intent,’ 303-304.
tshogs kyi yo byad ni sha lnga dang/ bdud rtsi lnga dang/ sha chang/ sgog btsong/ nya phag la sogs dman pa dang
btsog par blta dgos pa thams cad tshogs pa yin phyir/ de'i dbang gi zhim mngar gtsang btsog thams cad la bzang
ngan dang gtsang me'i gnyis rtogs med par/ thams cad mnyam pa nyid du rtogs nas bdud rtsi'i rang bzhin du longs
sbyod dgos pa ste/
247
rdo rje mdzes ‘od, Great Kagyü Biographies, 425. Khenpo Konchog Gyaltsen, Great Kagyü Masters, 254.
119
Building on this requirement to consume meat in the context of the ritual feast,
some Tibetans have argued that Tantric practitioners should also adhere to a meat-based
diet outside of ritual contexts. Tantric commitments, this argument claims, require
practitioners to adhere to conduct that transgresses Indian social mores, including the
consumption of substances, such as meat, that are generally looked down upon. I have
found little explicit evidence for this argument in textual sources, but it was mentioned
repeatedly by informants in contemporary Kham, as well as Tibetans living in exile.
Further, pro-vegetarian authors from several points in history take pains to rebut this
idea, suggesting that it was used to support meat eating during earlier times as well.
In responding to this argument—that since meat is required in the ritual feast,
Tantric practitioners should eat it at other times as well—many authors sympathetic to
vegetarianism point out that the ritual feast requires five specific meats, rather than meat
in general. These five are usually specified as being human, cow, dog, elephant and horse
meat.248 In his recent analysis of early Tantric practice in India, Christian Wedemeyer
has argued that these five meat were specifically chosen because they violated Indian
dietary taboos. They were usually eaten only in specific ritual contexts, as a means of
ritually rejecting conventional Indian social and religious norms.249 Eating the five meats,
248
dpal sprul o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 322. Patrül Rinpoché,
The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 207.
249
Wedemeyer, Making Sense of Tantric Buddhism, 119.
120
therefore, was not about moral laxity but was a means of ritually demonstrating that one
had transcended social norms.250
Wedemeyer’s understanding of the role the five meats played in Indian Tantra
echoes the presentation of many Tibetan scholars. Lochen Dharmasri (1654-1717), for
instance, remarks that those practicing Tantra should, “Eat suitable Tantric substances
for the sake of pride in the [Tantric] family, ego, and breaking down the discrimination
between clean and unclean. That is, [eat] meats that have died naturally, such as the five
approved meats, which are not slaughtered for the sake of their meat in civilized
places.”251 The five meats, he points out, are used precisely because they are not eaten
under normal circumstances. Eating these unclean meats, therefore, was a particularly
powerful way of violating social taboos and demonstrating the primordial purity of the
substances. Further, since no one slaughters humans, horses, dogs, and so forth, for their
meat, these substances must come from animals that have died naturally, and are,
therefore, unstained by killing.
Further, while many Tibetan authors who otherwise support vegetarianism admit
that it is acceptable to consume the five meats during the ritual feast, they do not concede
that practitioners may consume meat in other contexts. Patrül makes this point nicely,
“Eating [the five meats] wantonly in towns, because you are attached to the taste of meat,
250
251
Wedemeyer, Making Sense of Tantric Buddhism, 122.
lo chen dharma sri, Wish Granting Grain, 277b.
rigs kyis dregs shing nga rgyal dang gtsang dme'i rtog pa gzhig pa'i slad du yul dbus su bza' ba'i don du gsod par mi
byed pa'i sha lnga gnang ba ltar rang gi las kyis shi ba'i sha rnams dam tshig gi rdzas su rung bas bza' bar bya
zhing/
121
is the fault known as ‘behaving carelessly with the Tantric vow of consumption’”252
Bringing this back to the importance of compassion, Dolpopa insists that when not in
the specific context of the ritual feast, Mahāyāna ethical precepts still apply to Tantric
practitioners, who should, therefore, avoid meat.253 Thus, while the higher Tantric vows
supersede the Bodhisattva vows in cases of conflict, the lower vows remain in effect when
there is no conflict. For Patrül, Dolpopa and other lamas sympathetic to vegetarianism,
it is clear that while the Tantric vows do require the consumption of meat in the context
of the ritual feast, this does not give Tantric practitioners license to eat meat whenever
they please.
As should be clear by this point, Tibetan arguments against meat are firmly
rooted in the rhetoric of compassion. For some religious individuals, Tibetan
Buddhism’s compassionate ideal conflicts with the harm and suffering caused by eating
meat, and so they turn towards vegetarianism in an attempt to lessen the suffering of
animals. While this argument, that vegetarianism should be adopted out of concern for
animal suffering, is the foundation of Tibetan arguments against meat, however, it is not
the only one. Using a related, but distinct, argument, many of these same authors argue
that eating meat produces terrible karmic consequences for the consumer, and should,
252
dpal sprul o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 323. Patrül Rinpoché,
The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 208.
sha'i ro la sred pas grong yul du bag med du zos na/ dang /blang gi dam tshig bag med du spyad pa zhes bya ste/ de
yang 'gal/
253
dol po pa shes rab rgyal mtshan, Prohibition, 665. Mochizuki, “Scriptures,” 41.
122
therefore, be abandoned out of self interest as well as out of concern for the animals in
question.
Just as almost all Tibetans recognize that killing an animal causes it to suffer,
almost all agree that killing an animal produces horrible karmic consequences for the
killer. As discussed above, killing (whether human or animal) causes that being to suffer.
This, in turn, produces negative karma for the killer, likely resulting in a birth in one of
the hells. Tibetan religious literature often describes the various hells in excruciating
detail, including a hell especially reserved for those who kill animals. Citing the
Saddharmasmṛtyupasthāna Sūtra,254 Kangyur Rinpoché (1898-1975) explains, “In the
Crushing Hell beings are smashed between stone mountains shaped like the heads of
beings they have previously killed.”255 Thus, the karmic fruition of animal slaughter
ripens, rather poetically, for the killer.
As with discussions of animal suffering, however, turning this general
understanding that killing produces negative karma into a critique of meat eating requires
authors to connect the meat that is eaten with the killing itself. Not surprisingly, this is
an important part of many pro-vegetarian authors’ agendas. Perhaps the most explicit
example of this discussion comes from Patrül Rinpoché’s The Words of My Perfect Teacher:
Some of us think that we are free of the sin of killing, merely because
we have not killed with our own hands. … But when lamas and
254
Eng: Sūtra of Close Mindfulness
Tib: 'phags pa dam pa'i chos dran pa nye bar bzhag pa’i mdo
255
klong chen ye shes rdo rje, Quintessence, 47. Jigmé Lingpa & Longchen Yeshe Dorje, Kangyur
Rinpoche, Treasury of Precious Qualities, 162.
bsdus 'joms ni/ da lta bsad pa'i srog chags kyi mgo brnyan du yod pa'i brag ri phan tshun 'thab pa'i bar bcar ba
123
monks visit their patrons’ homes, they are served the flesh and blood of
many slaughtered beings. Because of their craving for flesh and blood,
they eat it without the slightest compassion or regret for the killing of
these beings. The sin of killing accrues to both the patron and
recipient without distinction.256
For Patrül, there is no distinction between the karmic result of killing and the
karmic result of eating the meat that results from that killing. Likewise, almost all of the
authors I have found who criticize meat at any length take pains to establish this
connection. Even some texts that do not specifically forbid meat continue to assume that
eating meat has negative karmic consequences for both the butcher and the consumer.
Karmé Khenpo’s Prayer to Purify Meat, for instance, offers readers a means to reduce the
negative karmic consequences of meat eating. In it, he prays, “May the butcher who
killed them not receive [the karmic punishment of] death himself, and may the fruition
not arise for those who ate it.”257 While not specifically forbidding meat, this text
assumes that eating it generates negative karma and equates the karma generated by the
killer with that generated by the eater.
256
dpal sprul o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 155. Patrül Rinpoché,
The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 102.
da lta rang re rnams nas dngos su rang gis lag bdar te srog ma bcad pa tsam la bsams nas nga la srog gcod kyi sdig
pa ni med snyams pa 'dug kyang/ … bla ma dang ser mo ba rnams ni yon bdag gi khyim du byon skabs/ de dag gis
sems can gyi srog bcad nas sha khrag gyos su byas te drang pa’i tshe/ sems can bsad pa la ‘gyod pa dang snying rje
sogs gang yang med par sha khrag gi ro la sred pas dga’ bzhin du gsol tsa na/ srog gcod kyi sdig pa yon mchod gnyis
la khyad par med par ‘thob/
257
Anonymous, Prayer to Purify, 6.
gsod pa’i shan pa srog len med pa dang/ don gnyer byed po rnam smin mi ‘byung shog/
124
As with the discussion surrounding animal suffering, connecting eating meat and
killing the animal is one of the key rhetorical moves made in support of vegetarianism.
By establishing this connection, meat becomes the equivalent of killing, universally
understood to produce negative karma. Thus, Nyammé Sherab Gyeltsen can conclude,
“By definition, this thing called ‘meat’ comes from the killing of animals. The merciless
descend to hell, so with great regret, abandon eating [meat]!”258
If eating meat creates negative karma because it causes the death of animals, the
reverse also holds: saving animals from slaughter is a powerful method for developing
positive karma. Tsetar, the practice of ransoming beings discussed above, is a prime
example of this. Specifically, tsetar rituals are often said to be performed with the
intention of extending an individual’s life, an idea reflected in the title of Jamyang
Khyentsé Wangpo’s (1820-1892) tsetar manual, Increasing Life and Prosperity.259 While
the karmic benefits of tsetar are usually believed to ripen for the ritual’s sponsor, they can
also be directed towards others, as when thousands of Tibetans recently incorporated
tsetar into a ritual enthronement ceremony for the Dalai Lama. As part of this event,
held in Litang, Kham, in July 2011, organizers purchased large numbers of animals from
slaughterhouses and set them free, with the explicit hope that this would help lengthen
the life of the then seventy-six year old exile leader.260
258
mnyam med shes rab rgyal mtshan, Received Vinaya, 49.
sha zhes bya ba’i mtshan nyid ni/ sems can srog gcod rgyu las byung/ snying rje med pas dmyal bar ltung/ shin tu ya
nga mi bza’ spang
259
Jamyang Khyentsé Wangpo. Increasing Life and Prosperity.
srog bslu bya tshul tshe dpal rgyas byed ces bya ba bzhugs so
260
Sherab Woeser, “Thousands Enthrone the Dalai Lama’s portrait in Tibet.”
125
The fear of negative karma can be a powerful motivation for vegetarianism, and
most of the authors who have written extensively about meat mention its negative karmic
repercussions. At the same time, however, it is important to recognize that this argument
usually takes a back seat in Tibetan discussions to issues of the suffering eating meat
causes animals. Dolopoa’s Prohibition of Meat and Alcohol, for instance, mentions the
karmic consequences of eating meat only once in the nine folios of material dedicated to
meat.261 Similarly, while Jigmé Lingpa and Shabkar discuss the karmic consequences of
meat with some frequency, they emphasize it much less than the animal suffering that
eating meat entails. For most authors who support vegetarianism, the fundamental
concern is the suffering of the animals involved, rather than the karmic consequences for
the consumer.
A final argument in support of vegetarianism—or at least animal compassion—
claims that directing one’s compassion towards animals has direct soteriological value. By
empathizing strongly with the suffering that animals undergo while being slaughtered, a
practitioner can attain exalted religious states. Once again, Jigmé Lingpa provides the
preeminent example of this phenomenon. In one of the opening passages in his
Autobiography, he recalls seeing a group of lambs lined up awaiting slaughter:
In particular, seeing and hearing the killing of these beings, which
reminded me of the actions of great dogs, also caused me great
suffering. I wanted to immediately liberate these beings from their
suffering and wished that I had a safe house to protect them. Horrific
261
dol po pa shes rab rgyal mtshan, Prohibition, 328b. Mochizuki, “Scriptures,” 37.
126
activities such as these occurred here, merely because it was the season
for slaughtering animals. Thinking like this, uncontrived compassion
arose. Until that day, even though I had recited the words of the mindtraining of the four immeasurables hundreds of thousands of times, I
had never had true, uncontrived compassion of that strength. This
experience was the most important event of my life.262
This event achieves this level of importance for Jigmé Lingpa precisely because
compassion is emphasized so strongly in Tibetan Buddhism. The uncontrived
compassion Jigmé Lingpa experiences here is an extremely important event on his
religious journey. Indeed, according to his own reckoning, it was the most important
event of his life. Further, Jigmé Lingpa explicitly contrasts the strength of this
experience, sparked by his compassionate response to animals awaiting slaughter, with
the compassion he developed through more conventional practices.
Jigmé Lingpa also codified this idea, that compassion towards animals can spark
religious experiences, in his advice manuals. In one work Jigmé Lingpa advises students
to think that the animal whose meat they are about to eat was once their kind parent and
should be treated with kindness in return. At that time, he concludes, “If you are a
normal minded person and you think about this, then your heart will break, and you will
262
‘jigs med gling pa, Autobiography, 14.
khyad par sems can gyi srog gcod pa mthong zhing thos pa’am/ khyi rab sogs kyi byed spo yod yid la dran pa tsam nas
rang yang shin ti sdug bsngal zhing/ sems can 'di dag sdug bsngal 'di las da lta nyid du thar na snyam pa dang/ 'di
thams cad kyi srog bskyab pa'i gnyer khang la yod na snyam pa dang/ sems can gsod pa'i nam zla shar ba tsam nas
rnams pa kun tu gnas skabs 'di na mi bzad pa'i las 'di lta bu zhig yod 'ong snyam nas snying rje'i blo bcos min du
skye ba 'di da lta'i bar du yod pas tshad med bzhi'i blo sbyong gi tshig tsam 'bum ther gsog pa bo las bcos min gyi
snying rje shugs drag skye ba 'di don gyi chod che bar 'gyur grang snyams pa 'di bdag gi rnam thar bzang shos yin/
127
necessarily develop compassion towards the animal. Then, even if you can’t develop
perfect compassion, something similar will definitely arise263”
There is also evidence that Jigmé Lingpa had a reputation for this technique
among later Tibetans. To recall a passage seen in the previous chapter, Khenpo
Ngawang Pelzang writes:
When meditating on compassion, the system of Apu [Patrül Rinpoché]
and Jowo [Atisá] is to meditate on one's present mother. According to
the intention of Rigdzin Jigmé Lingpa, when you observe a being
which is about to be killed, such as a sheep awaiting slaughter, or when
you observe someone with a painful illness, imagine that they are either
yourself or your old mother. Whichever method you want to use is
fine.264
This passage comes from a commentary on Patrül’s The Words of My Perfect
Teacher, which is itself a commentary on Jigmé Lingpa’s Longchen Nyingthik cycle of
teachings. It is, therefore, not surprising to find Khenpo Ngawang Pelzang citing Jigmé
Lingpa. Khenpo Ngawang Pelzang, however, goes beyond invoking Jigmé Lingpa’s
example to explicitly contrast his approach to cultivating compassion with that of other
revered lamas. As we have seen, both Atiśa (980-1054) and Patrül Rinpoché were
263
‘jigs med gling pa, Engaging the Path, 723. Jigme Lingpa, “Entering the Path of Enlightenment,” 133.
snyam du bsam mno zhig btang na blog zur gnas shig yin phyin chad snying rtsi shum shum ba dad sems can de la
snying rje dbang med du mi skye ba'i thabs med/ de'i tshe byang chub kyi sems mtshan nyid dang ldan pa ma byung
kyang rjes mthun zhig nges par skye ba
264
dpal sprul o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 214. Patrül Rinpoché,
The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 148.
snying rje bsgom pa la a bu dang jo bo’i lugs la/ rang gi rtsa ba’i ma nas bsgom/ rig ‘dzin ‘jigs med gling gi dgongs
pa ltar na/ bsha’ lug la sogs pa sems can gsod du nye ba’am nad pa dang sdug bsngal can zhig la dmigs nas rang
ngam rang gi ma rgan gyi ‘du shes bzhag nas bsgom pa yin/ gang ltar bsgom kyang chog la/
128
concerned with the well-being of animals, and yet Khenpo Ngawang Pelzang singles out
Jigmé Lingpa as a proponent of developing compassion by contemplating animals
awaiting slaughter. By the early twentieth century, it seems, Jigmé Lingpa had a
reputation for using compassion for animals as a soteriological tool.
Nor was Jigmé Lingpa alone in his use of animal compassion to produce advanced
religious states. A further example can be found in the writings of Nyakla Pema Düdül,
who takes Jigmé Lingpa’s general idea and explicitly applies it to vegetarianism, arguing,
“If you renounce [meat], … then the causes of kindness and compassion will arise
spontaneously.”265 In at least one case, a Tibetan lama has explicitly argued that
vegetarianism produces heightened mental states.
Up to now, I have discussed the arguments made against meat without too much
consideration of the time or place where they were made. Indeed, these arguments show
a remarkable degree of consistency across Tibetan history, with fourteenth and fifteenth
century figures such as Dolpopa and Ngorchen Künga Zangpo (1382-1444) raising many
of the same points raised in the nineteenth century by Shabkar and Patrül, and then again
in the late twentieth and early twenty first century by Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö and others.
Throughout, the fundamental emphasis is on the suffering experience by animals as a
result of eating meat. Whether the argument is made explicitly or implicitly, these
authors all assert that causing such suffering by eating meat contradicts the
compassionate orientation demanded by Tibetan Buddhism. Further, many of these
265
nyag bla padma bdud ‘dul, Advice, 162. Nyala Pema Duddul, “Song of Advice,” 2.
spangs na … shugs ‘byung byams dang snying rje’i rgyu byed cing/
129
authors note, if only in passing, that because meat causes suffering for animals, it also
causes suffering—in the form of negative karma—for the eater. Finally, many of these
authors cite the same passages in the same scriptures, especially the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra.
With that said, there are some differences between earlier and later arguments
that are worth noting. Both Dolpopa, writing in fourteenth century Central Tibet, and
Ngorchen Künga Zangpo, writing in the same region a century later, structure their antimeat polemics around the three vows that Tibetan monks undertake. Their arguments,
therefore, tend to focus on the question of whether meat is compatible with the
Bodhisattva vow and the degree to which Tantric vows affect those responsibilities.
In contrast, authors such as Jigmé Lingpa, writing in Central Tibet in the late
eighteenth century, Shabkar, writing in Amdo fifty years later, and Patrül, writing in
Kham another generation later, tend to focus their arguments on evocative descriptions of
animal suffering. These authors agree that eating meat contradicts the Bodhisattva vow,
but their arguments are clearly focused on emotionally engaging with their readers.
Instead of appealing to their audience’s sense of obligation to uphold their vows, they ask
them to reject meat out of empathy with the animals involved.
Further, as noted in the previous chapter, the context in which vegetarianism was
adopted varied significantly across time. Prior to the fifteenth century, for instance,
vegetarianism was primarily practiced by monastics, with non-celibate practitioners
explicitly excused. In nineteenth century Kham, however, this distinction had largely
130
(though not entirely) collapsed, with both monks and non-celibate practitioners adopting
vegetarianism.
Fundamentally, however, these distinctions are questions of degree, rather than
kind. Authors from different times or different places may have structured their works
differently, but they are all drawing upon the same basic argument: meat causes animals
to suffer, and individuals who strive to practice compassion should, therefore, refrain
from eating it.
Before moving on, it is worth noting that the degree to which Tibetan authors
emphasize the suffering entailed by eating meat contrasts with the way vegetarianism has
been promoted in Chinese Buddhism. As mentioned in the first chapter of this
dissertation, China is the only region of the world where vegetarianism became normative
among Buddhists. In their studies of Chinese Buddhist vegetarianism, both Barend ter
Haar and John Kieschnick claim that from at least the sixth century on, the diet was
primarily motivated by fear of the negative karma accrued by eating meat.266 Describing a
sample of conversion narratives, ter Haar notes, “Our sample contains fifteen stories.
They tell of individuals who suddenly realize the karmic burden that is caused by selling
and/or eating meat or fish, upon which they are converted to a vegetarian lifestyle.”267 In
a footnote, ter Haar notes only a single exception to this rule, reinforcing the impression
that much of Chinese Buddhist vegetarianism was driven by concerns about karma and
future lives.
266
ter Haarh, “Buddhist Inspired Options,” 134. Kieschnick, “Buddhist Vegetarianism in China,” 201.
131
This emphasis on the karmic consequences of meat eating contrasts strongly with
the Tibetan rhetoric surrounding vegetarianism, which we have seen emphasize the
suffering of the animal over concerns with the killer’s karma. This difference suggests
that those Tibetans who did adopt vegetarianism were not responding to Chinese
influence. There were extensive contacts and trade between China and Tibet, at least
since the Yuan Dynasty, seemingly offering the possibility of such influence.268 Further,
during the early twentieth century, when Tibetan Buddhism experienced a surge of
popularity in China, the meat eating habits of several Tibetan lamas (notably the ninth
Panchen lama) were the subject of sustained criticism from leading Chinese Buddhist
figures. In 1925, for instance, the reformist monk Taixu (1890-1947),269 who was
otherwise deeply interested in Tibetan Buddhist practice, criticized Tibetan lamas for
their moral laxity:
When Tibetan and Mongolian lamas come to China and transmit
esoteric [teachings] they look and dress like laymen and publicly drink
alcohol and eat meat. In our country, we always think highly of the
rules for the sangha. [These lamas] discard them like trash!270
267
ter Haarh, “Buddhist Inspired Options,” 134.
268
Tuttle, Tibetan Buddhism in the Making of Modern China, 17.
269
Ch: 太虛
270
Luo Tongbing, “The Reformist Monk Taixu,” 442.
I have been unable to locate this original text, so have relied on the quotation found in Luo Tongbing’s
article. The translation is my own.
如藏蒙喇嘛之來華傳密也,形服間俗,酒肉公開,於我國素視為僧寶之行儀,棄若弁髦!
132
It is unclear if Chinese Buddhist leaders criticized Tibetan monks on these
grounds prior to the twentieth century, but this would seem reasonable, given the
difference between the normative vegetarianism found in Chinese Buddhist practice and
the meat eating that was normative among Tibetan lamas. Further, at least some
Tibetans were aware of the importance of vegetarianism in Chinese Buddhism. Tuken
Chökyi Nyima (1737-1802), for instance, notes in his Crystal Mirror of Philosophical
Systems, one of the most extensive doxographical works to be found in Tibetan literature,
that Chinese monks, “Do not eat meat and do not ride on animals.”271 Tuken lived in
Amdo, not far from regions populated by the Chinese, and whether or not he had first
hand knowledge of Chinese vegetarianism, it is clear that he understood Chinese
Buddhists to be vegetarian. Finally, it is worth noting that many of the nineteenth
century vegetarian lamas discussed in this dissertation lived in Kham, a region which
hosted a significant Chinese military presence beginning in the late nineteenth century, at
roughly the same time that vegetarianism was flourishing.
Assuming that Tuken was not alone in his knowledge of Chinese Buddhist
vegetarianism and given the proximity of so many vegetarian lamas with Chinese regions,
it seems reasonable to expect Chinese Buddhist vegetarianism to influence the adoption
of the diet among Tibetans. The difference between the arguments advanced by Chinese
and Tibetan advocates of vegetarianism, however, suggests that any such influence was
271
thu'u bkwan blo bzang chos kyi nyi ma, Crystal Mirror of Philosophical Systems, 472. Thuken Chokyi
Nyima, Crystal Mirror of Philosophical Systems, 357.
sha mi za zhing/ bzhon pa mi zhonpa dang/
133
not strong. As we have just seen, the arguments made by Tibetans in support of
vegetarianism are remarkably consistent across time. Patrül, writing in nineteenth
century Kham, echoes the concerns advanced by Dolpopa, writing in fourteenth century
Central Tibet. Thus, while it is certainly possible that some individuals may have
responded to a Chinese critique of Tibetan meat eating by becoming vegetarian, the
arguments put forward to advocate vegetarianism on a large scale betray little, if any, such
influence.
Conclusion
As demonstrated in this chapter, many religious Tibetans have felt that eating
meat was at least problematic, and possibly even forbidden. At the heart of this critique
lies Tibetan Buddhism’s idealization of compassion, directed not just to other humans
but towards all beings. Other arguments, such as the negative karma accrued by eating
meat and the soteriological benefits of a vegetarian diet were advanced, but ultimately
these arguments all come back to a fundamental conflict between the compassionate
orientation demanded by Tibetan Buddhism and the animal suffering caused by
consuming meat. Given the centrality of compassion in Tibetan religiosity, it is not
difficult to see why so many religious leaders decided to renounce meat and to encourage
their disciples to do the same. In fact, the contradiction between meat and compassion is
mentioned so frequently that perhaps the pertinent question is not ‘why did some
134
Tibetans adopt vegetarianism,’ but ‘why did so many Tibetans continue to eat meat.’ The
following chapter is an attempt to address this very question.
135
Chapter 3
A Necessary Evil
The first chapter of this dissertation outlined a history of vegetarianism in Tibet,
making clear that such a diet was well known and at least occasionally practiced.
Following this, the second chapter presented the arguments used to support
vegetarianism, noting that in the eyes of those opposed to it, meat eating was
incompatible with the compassionate focus expected of a Buddhist. As we have seen, the
contradiction between meat eating and compassion was widely acknowledged. Even
some of those who did eat meat acknowledged vegetarianism’s moral superiority. This
chapter asks why, given these arguments and the long history of vegetarianism in Tibet,
more Tibetans did not adopt vegetarianism.
One of the difficulties of this question is the lack of source material. While many
Tibetans have argued against meat, few seem to have felt the need to argue for it. To
date, in fact, I have not come across a single text that argues in favor of meat eating in
any detail and was composed prior to the last three decades.272 In trying to reconstruct
the reasons why an individual would eat meat, therefore, I am left with two somewhat
272
As noted in the introduction, footnote 19, several such texts have been written in the last few decades.
Given the changed context these texts emerged from, I have not included them here.
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problematic collections of sources: interviews with contemporary Tibetans and literary
works written in support of vegetarianism. The former allow meat eating Tibetans to
articulate reasons for their diet, but also reflect a specific time and place (the present) that
cannot be used to represent past opinions without considerable additional evidence. Such
evidence can sometimes be found in the arguments critiqued by pro-vegetarian authors,
but there is always the danger that such texts may not be representing their opponents
fairly.
Still, when these sources are considered together, some patterns do emerge.
Broadly speaking, most Tibetans like the taste of meat and find it difficult to give up,
particularly as it is not consistently forbidden in canonical sources such as the Vinaya.
Others argue that meat is necessary as part of tantric Buddhist practice, connected with
both antinomian behavior and questions of pure view. Most fundamentally, however,
meat is consistently seen as necessary, if ethically problematic. Such a vision, I argue,
rests on cultural ideals associating meat with physical strength and other masculine
virtues. The interaction of these ideals with the Buddhist ethical discourses discussed in
the previous chapter leads to a situation where meat was widely regarded as sinful, but
also a necessary part of human life.
A Permitted Food
In interviews with contemporary Tibetans, the most common reason given for
eating meat is its taste. Informants who ate meat routinely said that even though they
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recognized the ethical superiority of vegetarianism, they would have a hard time giving up
such a delicious part of their diet. For their part, informants who were vegetarian often
said that they missed the taste of meat, sometimes so much that they struggled with
maintaining their vegetarianism. To provide just one example of many, a Bön lama
interviewed in a restaurant in Dartsedo claimed that he missed the taste of meat so much
he would probably eat it again after his three-year vegetarian vow expired.
Textual sources also highlight the importance of meat’s taste in dampening the
growth of vegetarianism. While I have not uncovered any sources that say that eating
meat is permissible because it tastes good, anti-meat texts routinely criticize those who
twist Buddhist ethical precepts out of “lust for the taste of meat.”273 One early Bön text
claims that, if properly considered, meat should be nauseating, but the text makes clear
that in practice, this is not so.274 Meat tastes good, and this has made generations of
Tibetans reluctant to give it up.
At the same time, however, meat’s taste clearly cannot account for the persistence
of meat in the Tibetan diet. Tibetan Buddhism, after all, restricts many things widely
considered enjoyable. Most obviously, Buddhist monks and nuns take vows of celibacy.
This vow is broken in various ways with some frequency,275 but it remains normative for
273
dpal sprul o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 323. Patrül Rinpoché,
The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 208.
sha'i ro la sred pas
274
mnyam med shes rab rgyal mtshan, Received Vinaya, 49.
275
For a prominent example, see: Goldstein, et al. The Struggle for Modern Tibet.
138
monks and nuns to foreswear sex. It is clear, therefore, that Buddhist ethical norms can,
and do, cause widespread rejection of practices that are widely considered pleasant.
While Buddhist teachings regarding monastic celibacy are clear, however, the
prohibition of meat is less so. As mentioned in the first chapter of this dissertation, the
rules for monks explicitly permit meat, as long as it meets the requirement of threefold
purity. There is debate about what types of meat fulfill this requirement, as well as
whether this rule is superseded by the demands of compassion. Fundamentally, however,
these permissions are accepted in one form or another by most Tibetan commentators.
There is, therefore, no blanket prohibition of meat as there is for monastic sex.
Basing their conclusions on discussions with Tibetan lamas living in India during
the late nineteen seventies, Tsepak Rigzin and Francesca Hampton cite the rule of
threefold purity as the “most fundamental” rule governing the consumption of meat.276
This position is supported by my own interviews with contemporary Tibetan monks,
where the rule of threefold purity was frequently held up as proof that meat eating was at
least acceptable, if not necessarily virtuous. These interviews also made clear that for
many Tibetans, meat purchased from a butcher was understood to fulfill the standards of
threefold purity, as it was killed for sale, but not specifically for the person who eventually
bought it.
Further, as will be discussed in the next chapter, several important pro-vegetarian
authors from throughout Tibetan history critique the application of the rule of threefold
276
Rigzin & Hampton, “Buddhism and Meat Eating,” 8.
139
purity in the Tibetan context, indicating that this rule was widely invoked as justification
for monks eating meat at during those periods as well. Thus, despite a paucity of sources
explicitly endorsing meat eating among monks, it is clear that the idea of threefold purity
was one of the main arguments used to support the consumption of meat among
monastics, both in the pre-modern and contemporary periods.
The lack of a blanket prohibition of meat has clearly had an impact on the
adoption—or lack thereof—of vegetarianism. Holmes Welch recalls speaking with a
Chinese monk that had spent thirteen years in Lhasa during the nineteen thirties and
forties. This monk had asked his Tibetan counterparts why they were not vegetarian and
received the simple answer that vegetarianism was not mandated by the Buddha.277
Similarly, Dungkar Losang Tinlé (1927-1997) argues that, “In the Buddha's teachings, it
is not that one absolutely has to eat meat or that one definitively must not eat it.”278
Dungkar Losang Tinlé is aware that vegetarianism is a controversial topic, but since it is
not prohibited, he places it in a category of practices that are ambiguous, neither
completely permitted or rejected. It is worth noting that this position does not suggest
that vegetarianism is wrong, or even that meat eating is a good practice, saying simply
that it is not prohibited.
While meat may not be universally prohibited in Buddhist texts, killing animals
is. In order to be allowed, therefore, the act of eating meat must be separated from the
277
278
Welch, Buddhist Revival in China, 176-177.
dung dkar blo bzang ‘phrin las, Dungkar Doxography, 41.
sangs rgyas chos lugs nang la sha nges par za dgos pa zhig min la sha gtan nas za mi chog pa yang min/
140
act of killing the animal. Such a separation is, in fact, widely asserted by those defending
meat eating. In this logic, it is the butcher who is responsible for the death of the animal.
By the time the meat is purchased later, it is already dead, so the purchaser is freed of any
direct involvement in the animal’s death.
Again, the rule of threefold purity serves as a basis for such arguments. In
Buddhist ethical theory, several requirements must be met in order for an action to be
considered complete. The person performing the action must understand the situation
correctly, and he or she must intend to commit the action.279 Thus, while intentionally
killing an insect is considered sinful, accidentally stepping on one is not. As Chandra
Prasad has noted, the rule of threefold purity serves to distance monks from the
intentional killing of the animal.280 Since they do not, in theory, even suspect that the
meat was killed for them, they are able to legitimately claim that the animal’s death is not
due to their own intention. Thus, the individual is not ethically—or karmically—
culpable for the death of the animal.
In practice, this means that many Tibetans actively avoid killing, even while
happily eating the meat. During the course of eighteen months of fieldwork among
nomads living west of Lhasa, Melvyn Goldstein and Cynthia Beall have noted that few of
the nomads slaughtered their animals themselves, preferring to hire others for this task.
In one case, Goldstein and Beall waited for three days for a butcher to arrive and
slaughter a sheep they had bought, as its previous owner refused, citing Buddhist ethical
279
Harvey, Introduction to Buddhist Ethics, 14-21.
141
norms, to do it himself.281 Once the animals was dead, however, the nomads were free to
participate in the butchering of the carcass and consumption of the meat without fault.282
Such observations align closely with my own fieldwork among both nomadic and settled
Tibetans in Kham, where many informants insisted that they would never kill an animal
and that this stance was not in conflict with their consumption of meat.
As discussed in the previous chapter, there is a long history of authors who
support vegetarianism critiquing this position. As early as the third century, in fact, the
authors of the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra pointed out that without the demand for meat provided
by consumers, butchers would not kill many animals.283 This point is echoed—often
literally, in the form of extended quotations—in the works of almost all Tibetan authors
sympathetic to vegetarianism. As these repeated attacks make clear, the perceived
separation between eating meat and killing animals has been one of the most important
logical moves legitimizing meat eating throughout Tibetan history.
In addition to simply noting these permissions, some Tibetans argued that
vegetarianism was excessively austere, violating the Buddha’s middle path between
sensory indulgence and excessive religious austerities. A canonical source for this idea can
be found in The Foundations of the Vinaya, where the Buddha’s cousin Devadatta seeks to
steal away the Buddha’s followers by practicing five additional austerities, beyond what
280
Prasad, “Meat-Eating and the Rule of Tikoṭiparisuddha,” 293.
281
Goldstein & Beall, Nomads of Western Tibet, 99.
282
Goldstein & Beall, Nomads of Western Tibet, 99.
283
Shakyamuni, Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra, 155b.
142
the Buddha has already enjoined on his disciples. Vegetarianism was one of these five
practices.284
This story and the idea that vegetarianism was excessively austere was known to
Tibetans interested in defending meat eating among monks. In a passage cited
previously, for instance, Sakya Paṇḍita (1180-1251) claims that, “Śrāvakas may eat meat
that has threefold purity. To refuse would be the conduct of Devadatta.”285 Sakya
Paṇḍita eventually condemns meat consumption. Nevertheless, the fact that he mention
this argument indicates that the idea that vegetarianism was one of Devadatta’s austerities
was known during the thirteenth century.
Unlike sex and other pleasant but ethically dubious practices, eating meat was
explicitly permitted by the Buddha, at least in certain contexts. These permissions,
combined with the sense that the act of eating meat and the act of killing the animal are
distinct, have directly contributed to the prevailing opinion that vegetarianism is
admirable, but far from necessary.
At the same time, as has been extensively discussed in previous chapters, there has
been a consistent discourse critical of meat eating. For many of these critics, the rule of
threefold purity is superseded by the call to have compassion for all beings. This
argument will be discussed in detail in the following chapter, but for now it is sufficient
to recognize that the rule of threefold purity has not been enough to convince all Tibetan
284
285
Shakyamuni, Foundations of the Vinaya, vol 4, 289a-289b.
kun dga' rgyal btshan, Distinguishing the Three Vows, 34. Sakya Paṇḍita Künga Gyaltsen, A Clear
Differentiation, 66.
nyan thos rnam gsum dag pa’i sha/ bza’ rung gal te mi za na/ lhas byin gyi ni brtul zhugs ‘gyur/
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religious leaders that meat is a legitimate food. While the rule of threefold purity has
undoubtedly contributed to the general sense that meat is acceptable, in and of itself it
cannot account for the persistence of meat in the Tibetan diet.
A Tantric Sacrament
In addition to arguing that meat is permissible, some also contend that eating
meat is actually a necessary aspect of Tantric Buddhist practice. As discussed in the
previous chapter, Tantric Buddhism idealizes antinomian behavior, including
intentionally violating sexual taboos, eating substances generally considered filthy and
dressing like a madman. The most flagrant of these violations do not seem to have been
actually implemented all that often, however.286 Instead, these violations of social norms
were incorporated into Tibetan ritual life, so that such transgressions, while technically
present, were not flagrant. As part of this project, the flesh of humans, cows, dogs,
elephants and horses were included among the necessary offering objects in ritual feast
offerings. As discussed previously, some individuals have taken the presence of the five
meats in the ritual feast to mean that Tantric practice allows, and may even require, the
consumption of meat more broadly.
Not surprisingly, while most pro-vegetarian authors accept the presence of the
five meats in the ritual feast, few accept the idea that this justifies broader consumption of
meat. To repeat Patrül’s (1808-1887) criticism presented earlier, “Eating [the five meats]
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wantonly in towns, because you are attached to the taste of meat, is the fault known as
‘behaving carelessly with the Tantric vow of consumption’”287 Once again, while I have
found little direct literary evidence for this claim, the presence of this critique suggests
that some people did, in fact, use the five meats as justification for broader consumption
of meat.
In addition to this specific use of meat in ritual feasts, some meat apologists insist
that because of tantra’s emphasis on pure perception, tantric practitioners should eat meat
freely. In many forms of Tantra, practitioners are called upon to see all phenomena as
equally pure, a view sometimes referred to evocatively as one taste.288 Ideally, someone
practicing such a view would see any two foodstuffs as fundamentally identical, and
would, therefore, not discriminate among them, claiming one to be pure, and another
impure. Since a tantric practitioner, according to this argument, is bound to view all
phenomena as equally pure, they should not discriminate in what they eat.
Not surprisingly, this position is repeatedly critiqued by authors sympathetic to
vegetarianism. A recent example can be found in the writing of the present Dalai Lama,
who notes that this position is theoretically true, and may even be practically true for
practitioners at the highest level, but that it does not apply to most people:
286
This is not always the case, and some Tibetan ‘mad yogis’ would adopt the wild dress and habits
encouraged in the Tantras on at least a semi-regular basis. (DiValerio)
287
dpal sprul o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 323. Patrül Rinpoché,
The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 208.
sha'i ro la sred pas grong yul du bag med du zos na/ dang /blang gi dam tshig bag med du spyad pa zhes bya ste/ de
yang 'gal/
288
Tib: ro gcig
145
In Highest Yoga Tantra, however, practitioners are actually advised to
rely on the five types of meat and five types of nectar. … In this
regard, someone might try to justify eating meat on the grounds that he
or she is a practitioner of Highest Yoga Tantra. But this person must
not forget that included in the five nectars and five meats are substances
that are normally considered dirty and repulsive.289 A true practitioner
of Highest Yoga Tantra does not discriminate by taking the meat but
not the dirty substances, but we cover our noses if such dirty substances
are anywhere near us, let alone actually ingesting them.290
Similarly, Dilgo Khyentsé (1910-1991), allows that a practitioner of extremely
high realization can do anything without incurring a moral fault. “On the other hand” he
argues, “if we fail to properly assess our level of realization, thinking that we are highly
realized and can do whatever we want, drinking alcohol, indulging in sex and eating lots
of meat, we will be going in quite the opposite direction to the Dharma.”291
Similar views were expressed during many interviews with contemporary Tibetan
lamas. While it is possible, according to tantric theory, to achieve a level of realization
that allows one to act without regard to conventional ideas of pure and impure, it is clear
that many Tibetan lamas find the implications of this idea uncomfortable. They insist,
therefore, that such conduct is only allowed for those of truly high realization and that
practitioners must be careful to judge their own realization accurately.
289
Among others ingredients, these substances include blood, urine and feces.
290
Dalai Lama, World of Tibetan Buddhism, 112.
291
Dilgo Khyenste, Zurchungpa’s Testament, 111.
Though originally taught in Tibetan, it does not appear that a Tibetan version of this text has been
published.
146
In addition to this idea that meat is acceptable because of Tantric Buddhism’s
emphasis on the single taste of all phenomena, some Tibetans have asserted that, because
Tantric practice is so powerful, a tantric practitioner actually benefits the animal she is
eating. In this argument, Tantric Buddhism has such powerful liberative potential that it
sows the seeds of liberation in any being that comes into contact with it. This includes
not only practitioners themselves, but also any being that comes into contact with a
practitioner. Because the benefit of such connections outweighs the pain of dying, eating
meat actually benefits the animal involved.
As with so much else in this chapter, I have not found any literary sources that
actually support such arguments. Several informants, however, articulated this notion,
and pro-vegetarianism texts critique it, suggesting again that it was current prior to the
modern period. Perhaps the best articulated example comes from the writings of Jigmé
Lingpa (1730-1798), who advises his students, “You should think like this, ‘In a Tantric
context, it’s great if someone has given rise to the power of concentration, so that he is
not tainted by obscurations and is able to benefit beings through a connection with their
meat and blood. But I do not have this confidence.’”292 As with the above quotes from
the Dalai Lama and Dilgo Khyentsé, Jigmé Lingpa holds out the possibility that very
advanced practitioners could, in fact, benefit beings by eating them. He cautions his
292
‘jigs med gling pa, Engaging the Path, 723. Jigme Lingpa, “Entering the Path of Enlightenment,” 133.
rdo rje theg pa'i skabs su'ang ting nge 'dzin gyi nus pa mngon du gyur nas rang la sgrib pas mi gos shing/ sems can
de la sha khrag gi 'brel pas phan thog nus pa yin na dang go bcad/ bdag la de ltar gyi gdeng mi bdug/ … snyam du
bsam mno
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students, however, to reflect honestly on their own abilities and to recognize that they
have probably not reached this stage.
As should be clear by now, the idea that Tantric practice permits, and may even
require, the broad consumption of meat comes in several flavors. Each version of this
argument has been promoted by some and critiqued by others. Speaking broadly, these
critiques tend to suggest, sometimes explicitly, but more often implicitly, that those who
use tantric practice as a justification for meat eating outside the context of the ritual feast
are abusing tantric ideology in support of personal pleasure.
Such a conclusion aligns with the presentation of the five meats found in the last
chapter. As elucidated by Christian Wedemeyer, the five meats were important for
tantra specifically because of their symbolic value as a violation of cultural norms. They
were to be consumed in a ritual context, but not on a broad, daily basis.293 Further, we
have seen many Tibetan commentators agree with this assessment. When this
observation is combined with the lack of sources that support the idea that Tantra
justified eating meat on a daily basis, we are left with the impression that while this idea
certainly existed in Tibet, it may not have been terribly widespread. The fact that some
individuals felt that Tantric practice justified eating meat, therefore, still fails to account
for the prevalence of meat eating across the Tibetan diet.
293
Wedemeyer, Making Sense of Tantric Buddhism.
148
No Other Options
In recent decades, as the question of vegetarianism has emerged both in Tibet and
among exile Tibetan communities, several lamas have written defenses of meat eating.
Among the most common arguments raised in these texts is the idea that Tibet’s
environment made meat a necessary staple in the Tibetan diet. The present Dalai Lama
explains, “In Tibet the difficult geographical conditions - its climate and altitude - were
not suitable for growing vegetables and the people have always had to depend on meat
and dairy products to survive.”294 As the Dalai Lama suggests, the Tibetan environment
made the cultivation of vegetables and fruits difficult, limiting the availability of nonmeat foods and significantly impeding the spread of vegetarianism.
Environmental conditions across the Tibetan plateau vary widely, but most areas
are located at very high altitudes. The Lhasa valley, for instance, is located thirty-six
hundred meters above sea level. Northwest of Lhasa, the Changtang Plateau begins at
forty-five hundred meters of elevation. At such extreme elevations, little agriculture is
possible, and Tibetans living in the Changtang are almost exclusively nomadic, practicing
animal husbandry. Even at lower elevations agriculture is difficult, and Tibetan farmers
were quite restricted in their choice of crops. By far the most common crop was barley,
though some vegetables, such as radishes and peas, were known.295
294
His Holiness the Dalai Lama, “Non-Vegetarian Food,” 57.
295
Carrasco, Land and Polity in Tibet, 5.
149
As a result, the food options available to Tibetans prior to the last few decades
were extremely limited.296 Barley was roasted and ground into tsampa, providing the
most common non-meat food. Dairy was widely available, often in the form of butter,
and a variety of other products, such as the troma root, were locally available. In such a
context, meat played an important role in most individual’s diets.
Nowhere was this more true than among nomadic populations. Nomadic animal
husbandry has been practiced in Tibet for millennia.297 Nomads care for large herds of
animals, often sheep or yaks, and follow these herds, usually in a yearly cycle. Thus, a
nomad community will often have established summer and winter camps, with
traditionally defined grazing land at each site. Given this mobile lifestyle, nomads are
unable to grow crops and are dependent on the products of their animals for almost the
entirety of their economic production. These products include the wool of both sheep
and yaks, dung for fires and the milk, butter, yogurt and cheese that are produced from
the milk of female yaks. They also include meat, both for consumption by the nomads
themselves and for sale or barter with farmers or other sedentary groups.
Meat is a fundamental aspect of nomadic life. Indeed, even non-meat staples
such as tsampa must be acquired through trading meat and other animals products.
Between 1986 and 1988, the anthropologists Melvyn Goldstein and Cynthia Beall lived
among a nomadic community on the high plateau northwest of Lhasa recording, among
296
Modern roads and the trucks that drive on them have changed this situation dramatically, and vegetables
and fruit can be found in even remote communities.
297
Citing pollen deposits, one recent study concludes that nomadic pastoralism has been practiced on the
Tibetan plateau for 8,800 years. (Foggin et al.)
150
other facets of life, the nomads’ diet. They note that a family of five consumed the meat,
on average, of twenty-two yaks and sheep a year, while a wealthy family of five could
consume as many as forty-five to fifty animals. These animals were often slaughtered at
the beginning of fall, with the meat being dried and then used to sustain a family through
the winter and into the summer.298 During the winter, when meat was most plentiful, it
was the primary food for many nomads. As the winter’s supply of meat dwindled in late
spring and summer, tsampa and dairy products became increasingly important.299
Goldstein and Beall’s observations are specific to the nomadic community they studied,
west of Lhasa, but their observations align closely with my own discussions with nomads
in Kham, as well as with reports of nomadic practices in other regions. For nomads
everywhere, meat is a fundamental element of the diet, not easily dispensed with.
Given the centrality of animals in nomadic culture, and of meat in nomadic diets,
it is not surprising that vegetarianism is widely considered incompatible with nomadism.
For many Tibetans, asking nomads to give up meat is akin to asking them to give up
their nomadic lifestyle. For this reason, many contemporary lamas who otherwise
support vegetarianism seem reluctant to ask nomads to give up meat. Khenpo Tsültrim
Lodrö (b. circa 1970s), for instance, told me in an interview that given the difficulties of
being a vegetarian nomad, it was acceptable for nomads to eat meat, though it would be
ideal if they would try to reduce their consumption somewhat. Likewise, Urgyen Trinlé
Dorjé (b. 1985), the seventeenth Karmapa, told me that nomads could eat meat, though
298
Goldstein & Beall, Nomads of Western Tibet, 99.
151
he hoped that they would not sell animals to the industrial slaughterhouses that have
recently appeared in many regions of Tibet.
Both Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö and the Karmapa have written strong
denunciations of meat eating. Further, these works are widely distributed in Tibet and
have contributed strongly to the recent spread of vegetarianism, particularly in Kham.
During both interviews, these lamas made clear that they felt the nomadic lifestyle was an
important aspect of Tibetan culture, worth preserving even if that means slowing the
spread of vegetarianism. It is also worth noting that neither Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö or
the Karmapa made any claims that nomadic culture was important on religious grounds.
That is, nomadic culture is important because of its traditional place in Tibetan society,
not because being a nomad is conducive to religious attainment.
This is not to say that nomads are ignorant of the ethical complications
surrounding the slaughter of animals for their meat. Goldstein and Beall note that few of
the nomads chose to slaughter their animals themselves, preferring to hire others for this
task.300 For these nomads, the sin was entirely in the killing, and the meat could be
consumed without fault. As we have seen, many lamas who support vegetarianism are
quite explicit in their critique of this argument. Here, however, the important point is to
recognize that Buddhist attitudes towards killing animals for meat were well known by
the nomadic community, and that they tried to modify their behavior accordingly.
Killing animals for meat was, they understood, opposed to Buddhist teachings, but it was
299
Goldstein & Beall, Nomads of Western Tibet, 115.
152
also a necessary part of their life, without which their families might not have survived
the winter.
The same environmental conditions that made meat an integral part of nomadic
life also impacted settled farmers. Farming families had easier access to tsampa than their
nomadic counterparts, but environmental conditions still precluded the cultivation of
most green vegetables and all fruits. Vegetables were so rare in some regions that one
contemporary Tibetan lama has noted, “[until] about eighteen years ago, most of the
people in my village didn’t even know that vegetables could be eaten by humans.”301 In
contrast to the difficulty of acquiring vegetables, meat was widely available to famers.
Some of this meat would come from their own animals, but much of it was acquired
through trade with nomads. However it was acquired, given the environmental
constraints, it is not surprising that meat was an integral part of farmers’ diets, as well as
nomads.
As this discussion indicates, the environment conditions on the Tibetan plateau
made vegetarianism difficult. Indeed, contemporary apologists for Tibetan meat eating
regularly—and justifiably—cite the Tibetan climate as the most important factor
impeding the growth of vegetarianism. There can be little doubt that the difficulty of
growing vegetables in Tibet made the adoption of vegetarianism especially difficult in
pre-modern Tibet.
300
Goldstein & Beall, Nomads of Western Tibet, 99.
301
Khentrul Rinpoche, Vegetarianism Free from Extremes.
153
A Necessary Evil
One result of difficult environmental conditions in Tibet has been a consistent
discourse that views meat as a necessary component of a healthy human diet. As we saw
in the previous chapter, there has been a consistent discourse in Tibet that labelled meat
sinful. Not everyone who accepted this discourse, however, became vegetarian. Even
Jigmé Lingpa, who wrote extensively on the flaws of eating meat, never claims to have
actually become vegetarian. For individuals like this, eating meat was clearly immoral,
but, given the limited options available, it was also a necessary part of human life.
This argument hinges on an understanding of meat’s role in human health.
Interviews with contemporary Tibetans reveal a widespread belief that without meat, an
individual’s health will decline. This was expressed repeatedly by individuals who did eat
meat, as a justification for their diet. One young monk, for instance, claimed to have
thought about becoming vegetarian frequently, but was afraid of the diet’s impact on his
health. Meat, he admitted, was ethically problematic, but without it, he was afraid his
health would decline.
Another informant, from the Ngaba region, blamed his father’s death on his
refusal to eat meat. His father had been a vegetarian for many years and refused to
change his diet even after being diagnosed with cancer. As the disease ran its course, a
Tibetan doctor advised that eating meat might extend his life, but he refused, despite his
family’s entreaties. The young man who told me this story did not blame vegetarianism
154
for causing his father’s cancer, but he did believe that eating meat would have allowed his
father to live longer.
As this story suggests, the popular notion that meat is important for health is
supported by many Tibetan medical doctors. According to Tibetan medical theory, the
body contains three humors, phlegm, wind and bile, that all must be in balance for
optimal health.302 An imbalance of these three humors results in disease. To greatly
oversimplify, Tibetan medicine is the practice of restoring the balance of these humors
when one or another has become excessively dominant. In order to do so, Tibetan
doctors can prescribe a range of medicines, as well as suggesting changes in behavior or,
importantly for the discussion here, diet.303
The role of meat in this system was explained to me during a series of interviews
with a prominent Tibetan doctor in Xining. According to this doctor, different meats
impact the body in different ways. Goat, for instance, supports the bile humor, but not
wind or phlegm, and as a result eating goat meat might be prescribed to treat swelling or
dropsy. Yak and mutton, on the other hand, are particularly important for supporting the
wind humor. A significant decrease in the amount of yak or mutton eaten, therefore,
would lead to an decrease in the strength of the wind humor. This would produce an
imbalance in the body’s three humors, resulting in an increasing likelihood of illness.
So far, this discussion of the health consequences of vegetarianism has relied
entirely on contemporary sources. Textual evidence, however, indicates that similar
302
Tib: bad kan, rlung, mkhris pa
155
concerns have been present at many other points in Tibetan history. Sera Khandro
(1892-1940), a lifelong vegetarian, recalls falling seriously ill when she was thirty. Her
teacher insisted that she eat meat for a month, after which her strength and health
recovered enough that she could re-adopt a vegetarian diet.304 Similarly, Shabkar (17811851) allows meat to be eaten for medicinal purposes during illness or old age.305
In particular, many Tibetans believe that without meat, one’s bodily strength with
decline. This association is seen most clearly in interviews with contemporary Tibetans.
Many informants acknowledged the ethical superiority of a vegetarian diet, but felt that if
they stopped eating meat, their bodily strength would decline. One typical informant, a
young man in Dartsedo, claimed that it was bad to adopt vegetarianism, as doing so
caused the body to weaken. In order to keep his strength up, he needed to eat generous
portions of meat.
This emphasis on strength is also supported by Tibetan medical concepts. As
noted above, yak and mutton—the most commonly consumed meats in Tibet—are both
associated with supporting the wind humor. The wind humor, in turn, is particularly
associated with bodily strength. A reduction in meat eating, therefore, could produce an
imbalance associated with a weakened wind humor, manifested as a decrease in bodily
strength. Popular conceptions about the role of meat in fostering strength, therefore,
align well with Tibetan medical theories.
303
Desi Sangyé Gyatso, Mirror of Beryl, 17.
304
se ra mkha’ ‘dro, Autobiography, 356. Jacoby, Consorts and Revelations, 56.
305
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Nectar of Immortality, 609-610. Shabkar, Food of Bodhisattvas, 121.
156
Once again, while this discussion has drawn primarily on contemporary
interviews, there is some evidence to suggest that such concerns have a long history in
Tibet. Shabkar notes that some people argue that eating meat will maintain monks’
strength.306 Shabkar, as we might guess, has little tolerance for this concern, dismissing it
as an excuse proposed by those addicted to the taste of flesh. By discussing it at all,
however, he indicates that some people in early nineteenth century Amdo felt that meat
was particularly important for bodily strength.
An association between meat and strength is further demonstrated by a pair of
stories concerning heroic strongmen. In the first, recently published in a collection of
oral histories and coming from the Degé region of Kham, tells of the exploits of Gerab
Shepochen (n.d.). Gerab Shepochen was a simple herder who rose to prominence not
through mental acumen, but through his extraordinary strength. As proof of this heroic
ability, the tale repeatedly describes him as able to eat a leg of yak and two measures of
tsampa at every meal.307 For those who listened to this story, Gerab Shepochen’s ability
to eat immense quantities of meat and other food was visible proof of his superhuman
strength.
Similarly, Jamyang Khyentsé Wangchuk (1524-1568) tells the story of Tashi
Sengé (circa 11th c.), a famous strongman who becomes a disciple of Drokmi Lotsawa
(992-1072). Like Gerab Shepochen, Tashi Sengé is renowned for his strength, a fact
which is demonstrated through his ability to eat vast quantities of food, notably including
306
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Nectar of Immortality, 585. Shabkar, Food of Bodhisattvas, 103.
157
up to half a yak, in a single sitting.308 In both of these stories, the heroes consume vast
quantities of tsampa and beer as well as meat, making clear that their strength is not
derived solely from the meat they eat. At the same time, however, the prominence given
to meat in their diets aligns with the relationship between meat and strength seen
elsewhere. Meat, these stories suggest, is part of a broader vision of heroic strength.
In many ways, this relationship between meat and ideals of strength is similar to
the ideas that allow Chinese martial monks to eat meat, despite the fact that
vegetarianism is otherwise normative for monks in China. As discussed in the first
chapter of this dissertation, Meir Shahar has recently published a study of the martial
monks of Shaolin monastery, highlighting, among other points, the fact that many of
these monks eat meat. In Shahar’s analysis, this is tolerated, both by the monastic
authorities and the surrounding population, because of a belief that the monks’ physical
exercises require meat. Without it, they would not have the strength to pursue their
lifestyle.309
In support of this, Shahar tells a story drawn from an eighth century anthology.
In this tale, a novice monk named Chou is repeatedly abused by his peers, lacking the
strength to defend himself. In order to develop strength, he locks himself in a temple
dedicated to Vajrapāṇi, and vows to cling to the statue’s feet for a week. On the sixth
day, Vajrapāṇi appears and the following dialogue ensues:
307
308
zla ba sgrol ma, Silence in the Valley of Songs, 37-38.
‘jam dbyangs mkhyen brtse’i dbang ‘phyugs, Expansion of the Great Secret Doctrine, 93-96. Stearns,
Taking the Path as the Result, 199-202.
158
“Boy, do you want strength?” [Vajrapāṇi] asked Chou.
“Yes.”
“Are you determined?”
“Yes.”
“Can you eat flesh?”
“I cannot.”
“Why?” inquired the deity.
“Because monks must abandon meat.” Chou replied. Because of this,
the god lifted his alms-bowl and fed him flesh with a knife. … When
he finished eating, the god said, “Now, you are already very strong.”310
By the end of this account, the young monk is so physically impressive that,
“Those who had previously belittled him now fell prostrate, sweating.”311
The association between meat eating and physical prowess in this story is clear.
As a vegetarian, the young monk Chou is unable to stand up for himself. Once he eats
meat—divine meat, admittedly—he becomes so strong that his former tormenters cower
in fear. This story is drawn from the Chinese Buddhist tradition rather than the Tibetan.
Nevertheless, it aligns closely with the evidence we have seen regarding the Tibetan
tradition. Meat, in both contexts, is directly connected to the development of physical
strength.
309
Shahar, Shaolin Monastery, 43.
310
Zhang Zhuo, Records of the Court and People, 2.21. Shahar, Shaolin Monastery, 36.
謂稠曰。小子欲力乎。曰欲。念至乎。曰至。能食筋乎。曰不能。神曰。何故。稠曰出家人斷肉。
故神因操鉢舉匕以筋食 … 食畢。神曰汝已多力。
311
Zhang Zhuo, Records of the Court and People, 2.22. Shahar, Shaolin Monastery, 37.
先輕侮者俯伏流汗。
159
For many religiously inclined Tibetans, personal strength—and health more
generally—is important not only because it allows one to defeat one’s tormentors, or
because it makes life more enjoyable, but also because a human life is uniquely suited to
the practice of religion. In line with many other forms of Buddhism, Tibetan Buddhists
generally assert than an individual can be born as a god, a demi-god, a human, an animal,
a hungry ghost or a hell-being. Being born in hell, as a hungry ghost or an animal all
entail great suffering, to the point that religious practice is next to impossible. Being
born as a god or demi-god, on the other hand, is said to be so pleasant that there is no
motivation for pursuing religious practice and the promise of ultimate release such
practice holds out. Only birth as a human being contains the necessary mixture of
suffering and happiness that will allow an individual to pursue religious liberation. For
this reason, a human life, said to be difficult to obtain, is often referred to as a ‘precious
human life.’312
Further, Tibetan religious practice is driven—ideally—by compassion for the
suffering all beings experience. Those who achieve a precious human life have a rare
opportunity to not only pursue their own liberation from suffering, but to benefit other
beings in a way that will bring them to liberation as well. In such a context, preserving an
individual’s health becomes a concern not only for the individual in question, but also for
all of the other beings potentially benefitted by that individual’s religious practice. Given
312
Tib: mi lus rin chen
klong chen ye shes rdo rje, Quintessence, 15-21. Jigmé Lingpa & Longchen Yeshe Dorje, Kangyur
Rinpoche, Treasury of Precious Qualities, 117-122.
160
the assumption that it is necessary for human health, meat can be seen as a way to
actually benefit other beings.
Numerous contemporary informants cited this argument in support of their own
consumption of meat. This was particularly true of monks and nuns, who tended to
emphasize the need for meat in order to practice religion, while laity highlighted the
importance of meat for their health. One khenpo at Shechen Monastery, for instance,
emphasized that without eating meat, one would become weak and consequently be
unable to practice religion, repeating this assertion several times over the course of an
extended interview. Another monastic informant took this idea so far as to actively
critique vegetarianism, saying that since meat was necessary for human health, and health
necessary for religious practice, then those lamas who promoted vegetarianism were
actually harming animals rather than helping them.
Textual evidence also makes clear that this argument was invoked to support meat
eating at other points in Tibetan history as well. Again, I have not uncovered any sources
that advocate such a position, but it is repeatedly critiqued by authors advocating
vegetarianism, indicating that it was current at those times. Again, Shabkar provides a
good example, “By eating meat, monks maintain their strength and practice religion.
Therefore, [vegetarianism] has no benefit.”313 Not surprisingly, Shabkar rejects this
argument, reflecting that, “their food is no different from a demons’.”314
313
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Nectar of Immortality, 585. Shabkar, Food of Bodhisattvas, 103.
sha zos nas dge 'dun pa'i lus zungs gsos/ chos byas na des ma phan
314
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Nectar of Immortality, 586. Shabkar, Food of Bodhisattvas, 104.
kha za 'dres khrid pa dang khyad par med de/
161
Perhaps the most extended reflection on this idea, however, comes from Shardza
Tashi Gyeltsen (1859-1935). As we have seen, Shardza’s Shortcomings of Eating Meat
contains a strong critique of meat eating. The rhetoric Shardza employs in this text is
unsparing: meat is nauseating and meat-eaters are labelled hypocrites for their willingness
to inflict suffering on others without being willing to accept it themselves.315 Following
five pages of such critique, however, Shardza declares:
At the same time, however, the Buddha is the extraordinary support for
practice, and this free and favored human life [when his teachings can
be practiced] is difficult to obtain. Eating meat supports long life, and,
therefore, is a necessary basis for obtaining the supreme objective. If
you do not eat this, your bodily strength will be feeble, you will not be
able to perform virtue, and your life-force will be weak, as if you had a
wind disorder. Not relying on a skillful method like [meat] would be
to throw away your body. It is said to be a fault similar to tearing down
the four supporting pillars in a temple. For the sake of practicing
virtue, it is important to nourish your body with foods such as suitable
meat.316
Despite his earlier critiques, in the end Shardza not only allows, but actually
mandates the consumption of meat. This leaves readers in a quandary: how should they
reconcile the various ethical problems that Shardza highlights with the imperative to
315
316
shar rdza bkra shis rgyal mtshan, Shortcomings, 331-332.
shar rdza bkra shis rgyal mtshan, Shortcomings, 333.
‘on kyang dal ‘byor mi lus ‘di ni rnyed dka’ zhing sangs rgyas sgrub pa’i rten khyad par can yin pas na/ ‘di yun ring
‘tsho ba’i ched du sha la sogs pa’i zas kyis gso nas ‘di’i steng du gtan gyi ‘dun ma len dgos phyir/ ‘di mi gso bar lus kyi
stobs zhan nas dge ba sgrub mi nus pa dang rlung nad lta bus srog la nyan bzhin du/ de la phan pa’i thabs mi bsten
162
support the precious human body through meat eating. For Shardza, the answer is to eat
‘suitable meat:’
If you ask what meat is suitable, when you buy it it must be free of
having been seen, heard and suspected. This also applies to meat
purchased for you by others. For example, meat from animals that have
died naturally is suitable. The Vinaya says, ‘Meat that has died
naturally at the end of its time, as well as second-hand meat should be
eaten without desire, for the sake of nourishing the body.’317
By mandating meat that has not been seen, heard or suspected, Shardza invokes
the rule of threefold purity, which allows monks to eat meat that they have not seen,
heard, or suspected to have been killed specifically for them. Shardza, however, deftly reimagines this rule, including meat that was purchased by others under its proscription.
By doing so, he effectively rules out any slaughtered meat, including meat purchased from
a butcher, which most other interpretations of the rule of threefold purity allow. As a
result, only two types of meat are acceptable: meat that comes from animals that have
died naturally and second-hand meat that was purchased by someone else for their own
consumption, then discarded as waste. Shardza’s Biography indicates that he himself
followed such rules from the moment he took ordination as a monk, seemingly blending
pa lus bor ba byed pa ni/ lha khang ka ba bzhi bshig pa dang nyes pa mtshungs pa gsungs pas na dge sbyor bas bza’
rung gi sha la sogs pas lus gso ba gal che/
317
shar rdza bkra shis rgyal mtshan, Shortcomings, 333-334.
de la bza’ rung gi sha gang yin zhe na/ mthong thos dgos [334] gsum gyis dben pa’i tshong dus khar ‘khor gyi nyos
sha’am/ dus zad pa’i shi sha sogs bza’ rung gi sha yin pas/ de dag la chags sems spang nas srog phyir bza’ ba gnang
ste/ ‘dul ba las/ dus zas pa yi shi sha dang/tshang du kha ‘khor nyos sha ni/chags sems spong ste srog phyir bza’/ zhes
gsungs/
163
his concern for the suffering caused by eating meat with a felt need to eat meat in order
to support his religious practices and thereby benefit others.318
For Shardza, meat was a necessary evil, and similar sentiments are also expressed
by other Tibetan authors. Among the most eloquent is the nun Orgyen Chökyi (16751729), who reflects, “When I put goat’s meat in my mouth, my mind is sad. Set in this
human life, I need food.”319 Meat is a necessary part of being human and she makes no
attempt to give it up, even though it makes her sad.
At the same time, however, Tibet’s difficult environmental conditions and the
resultant notion that meat was necessary for human health cannot, in and of themselves,
account for the persistent presence of meat in the Tibetan diet. For one thing, Tibetans
did not generally consume all of the potential sources of meat available to them.
Goldstein and Beall have noted, for instance, that the nomadic community they studied
did not eat either fish or waterfowl, both of which were plentiful.320 Similarly, Samten
Karmay notes deep cultural bias among some Tibetans against eating horse meat, also
easily available to nomadic herders.321 If meat was consumed only because nothing else
was available, we might expect to find these readily available meats in wide use as well.
Instead, cultural norms led Tibetans to reject these animals as sources of food, indicating
that more than environmentally dictated needs are at play in this context.
318
dbra ston skal bzang bstan pa’i rgyal mtshan, Biography of Shardza, 123.
319
o rgyan chos skyid. Autobiography, 9. Schaeffer, Himalayan Hermitess, 138.
ra sha kha ru ‘jug dus sems nyid skyo/ mi yi lugs la rten nas zas dgos byung/
320
Goldstein & Beall, Nomads of Western Tibet, 114.
321
Samten Karmay, “A General Introduction,” 145-146.
164
More importantly, as we saw in the opening chapter of this dissertation, many
Tibetans did, in fact, adopt vegetarianism. Further, many vegetarians lived long and full
lives, garnering many disciples and otherwise propagating the Buddhist teachings quite
effectively. Dolpopa (1292-1361) even became famous for his great weight, and is often
depicted in artistic renderings as quite obese. Dolpopa’s alleged girth may not reflect
contemporary western conceptions of health, but for many Tibetans I interviewed, being
fat was considered a sign of good health. Along with other Tibetan vegetarians,
therefore, Dolpopa’s example offered a powerful argument against the idea that meat was
necessary for human health.
Before moving on, it is also worth pointing once again to the impact recent
development in Tibet has had on this debate. Extensive road-building projects have
connected vast areas of the Tibetan plateau. Trips that would have taken months can
now be completed in days. Those roads are regularly travelled by trucks, bringing
vegetables and fruit to even remote areas. Spinach, oranges and other foods are now
widely available. Further, the influx of Chinese-style restaurants across much of the
Tibetan plateau has helped make these exotic foods a normal part of the modern Tibetan
diet. In addition to fruits and vegetables, processed foods are now available across the
Tibetan plateau. This has had many unfortunate results, and the landscape is now
littered with drink bottles and snack wrappers. Some processed foods, however, are
specifically produced for and marketed to vegetarians, sometimes even imitating the taste
165
Fig. 4: Advertisement for snacks made of immitation meat. Importantly, the advertisement is in both Chinese and
Tibetan, indicating that the products are being marketeded to Tibetans. Jyekundo, summer 2012.
and texture of meat, allowing even more diversity in the foods available to vegetarians.
(Fig. 4)
In discussions with contemporary Tibetan vegetarians, these newly available foods
are routinely cited as the most important reason vegetarianism is spreading so rapidly
now. Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö told me that in the past, fruits and vegetables were
unavailable in Tibet, so lamas had to eat meat. Nowadays, he argues, that is no longer
the case and Tibetans should adopt vegetarianism. Many other proponents of
vegetarianism, including such prominent figures as the Dalai Lama and the Karmapa, but
also including many ordinary Tibetans, have made similar arguments. While many
contemporary vegetarians argue that meat is no longer necessary for health, however, that
166
idea has not yet permeated Tibetan culture, and most of the meat eating Tibetans I
interviewed insisted that meat was necessary for human health.322
It is beyond the scope of this dissertation to evaluate, from a medical perspective,
the health impact of vegetarianism, in the light of the other dietary options available to
Tibetans of various times and places. Given the limited other options, however, it seems
reasonable to assume that abandoning meat—at least prior to recent decades—would
impact an individual’s health, potentially to a noticeable degree. Whatever the scientific
facts of the matter, there has long been a near consensus among Tibetans that meat is
necessary for one’s health, to the extent that even some proponents of vegetarianism
admit that theirs is, from a strictly medical perspective, an unhealthy diet. For many
Tibetans, therefore, meat seems to have been understood as something of a necessary evil.
Perhaps even more than meat’s pleasant taste, permitted status and role in tantric
ritual, Tibet’s environmental conditions and the resultant belief that meat was medically
necessary formed a significant impediment to the spread of vegetarianism. At the same
time, however, there are enough examples of vegetarians who lived long and healthy lives
to demonstrate that meat was not an environmentally dictated necessity. Like these other
factors, the difficulties posed by the Tibetan environment can and were overcome on a
regular basis, suggesting that the prevalence of meat in the Tibetan diet is not based
solely on environmental factors, but also reflects cultural ideals and norms. In the rest of
this chapter, I will analyze the place of meat in Tibetan culture more broadly, arguing
322
Over the course of more than one hundred interviews, only two meat-eating Tibetans admitted that
meat was unnecessary for human health, admitting that they ate it only because it tasted good.
167
that, despite Buddhism’s ethical critique, other aspects of Tibetan culture actually
celebrated the consumption of meat.
Strength & Masculinity
As we have just seen, both Tibetan popular opinion and medical theory link the
consumption of meat with the development of strength. For some Tibetans, especially
those who are particularly devout, physical strength is necessary primarily because of its
importance for Buddhist practice. For others, however, physical strength had other
connotations. Of primary importance among these these are its connections with notions
of ideal masculinity.
For many Tibetans, the image of an ideal man includes strength and the ability to
dominate and control others. The consumption of meat, in turn, is seen as a necessary
support for the development of physical strength. Within this context, therefore, meat is
seen as more than just a necessary evil. Instead, it is actually celebrated as an important
part of idealized masculinity. This positive evaluation of meat has been a significant
check on the spread of vegetarianism, working alongside Tibet’s difficult environmental
conditions to restrict the impact of the Buddhist-inspired critique of meat.
One way to approach the relationship between strength and masculinity is
through a discussion of Tibetan attitudes towards hunting and otherwise dominating
dangerous animals. Hunting has a long history in Tibet, with archeological evidence
demonstrating hunting to be a culturally significant practice long before the historical
168
period.323 The importance of hunting in generating a vision of masculine strength,
however, becomes clearer once the archeological evidence is complemented by historical
records.
Brandon Dotson has recently analyzed some of the earliest of these records,
arguing that during the Tibetan Imperial Period, emperors engaged in large-scale royal
hunts as a calculated way to demonstrate their power and authority.324 That is, these
large scale hunts were not simply about acquiring food. Instead, they provided a venue in
which rulers could perform, demonstrating their strength and ability to rule. As an
example, Dotson points to the Old Tibetan Chronicle’s eulogy to king Tri Düsong (670704), “From the time when Emperor [Tri Düsong] was small, although he was young, he
slaughtered wild boar, fettered wild yaks, seized tigers by the tail, and so forth.”325 Tri
Düsong’s conquests over dangerous animals proved his strength and manhood. By
extension, such exploits also established both his right and ability to rule.
Dotson focusses his analysis on the Imperial Period, but hunting has remained an
important part of Tibetan culture down to the present day. Often, contemporary Tibetan
hunting practices are directed at producing meat, either for personal consumption or
sale.326 At the same time, however, hunting has never completely shed its ability to
323
Bellezza, “Gods, Hunting and Society.”
324
Dotson, “Princess and the Yak.”
325
Dotson, “Princess and the Yak,” 78.
This is Dotson’s translation.
bstan po khri ‘dus srong/ /sku chung nas gzhon gyis kyang/ /phag rgod la bshan gyIs mdzad/ /g.yag rgod sg[r]og du
bcug/ /stagI rna ba la bzung ba la stsogs pa’
326
Goldstein & Beall, Nomads of Western Tibet, 124-133. Huber, “Antelope Hunting.”
169
express an individual’s strength and masculinity through the domination of dangerous.
As Toni Huber remarks, “The massive wild yak bull is legendary for its immense power,
and the human ability to capture or kill one has always been the measure of a hero.”327
The ability to dominate animals displayed by successful hunting thus reflects an archetype
of heroic masculinity, both a test and a proof of an individual’s strength.
Nor is the connection between dominating animals and masculinity limited to
hunting, and similar theme can can be found in the Autobiography of Do Khyentsé (18001859). Do Khyentsé was an incarnation of Jigmé Lingpa, but also has a reputation as
something of a wild figure, and many stories are told about his bizarre and sometimes
violent actions.328 Before discussing his own life, his Autobiography presents the
mythological origins of his clan. In this account, the tribe’s progenitor, Longchen Tar
(n.d.), is approached by a local god for help. The god, in the form of a yak bull, fights
daily with a demon, also in the form of a great yak bull. Longchen Tar is a noted archer,
and at the god’s behest he shoots the demonic yak, ending the struggle. The god is
pleased, and promises to fulfill Longchen Tar’s every wish. The next day, he is told, a
frightening animal will come to him: all he has to do is stand his ground and touch it.
When a divine white yak appears, however, he is so terrified that he does not dare
approach. The next day, the god rebukes him, saying, “You didn’t act like a man!”329
327
Huber, “Chase and the Dharma,” 36.
328
Tülku Thondup, Masters of Meditation and Miracles, 179-197. Surya Das, Snow Lion’s Turquoise Mane,
20, 136.
329
mdo mkhyen brtse ye shes rdo rje, Autobiography, 6. Kornman, “A Tribal History,” 85.
khyod kyis pho ma byas song
170
A similar pattern repeats the next day: when a terrible tigress appears, Longchen
Tar does nothing and the god chides him for his fear, “If tomorrow you cannot bring up
your courage, there is nothing I can do for you.”330 On the third day, a crocodile appears,
but this time the man is able to throw a handful of sand at it. The animals are the god’s
divine daughters, and if Longchen Tar had been able to touch them, he and his
descendants would have been rich and powerful, ruling over India and Tibet. As it is, by
throwing the sand at the third daughter, he is able to acquire only cattle, a tent and
land.331
This is not a story about hunting, per se, nor about meat eating. What it does
demonstrate quite well, however, is the relationship between dominating animals—
particularly dangerous animals—and ideals of masculinity. Longchen Tar’s initial ascent
to fame is through his ability to kill a yak bull, an act which brings great reward. His
strength and bravery in this instance demonstrate his right to wealth and political power.
His subsequent cowardice and inability to dominate the fearful creatures that follow,
however, call this into question, and almost make him lose his reward. Where his initial
ability to dominate an animal brought him the potential for great reward, Longchen Tar’s
later inability to do so brings loss and a need to settle for a simple herder’s tent.
Dominance over animals is a proof of strength explicitly linked to Longchen Tar’s
330
mdo mkhyen brtse ye shes rdo rje, Autobiography, 7. Kornman, “A Tribal History,” 86.
'on kyang sang nang par snying stobs bskyed ma nus na/ nged kyi bya thabs bral ba
331
mdo mkhyen brtse ye shes rdo rje, Autobiography, 3-7. Kornman, “A Tribal History,” 84-86.
171
masculinity—or lack thereof—and aligned with the right to wealth, beautiful women and
political power.
The relationship between strength and masculinity I have observed here also
aligns with recent research by Charlene Makley. In The Violence of Liberation, Makley
examines the role of gender in the revival of Buddhism in Amdo over the last three
decades.332 Among her many salient observations, she highlights the importance of
strength to Tibetan visions of masculinity. She argues that those qualities associated with
the figure of the hero, including physical and mental strength and the ability to conquer
one’s enemies, are believed to inhere in the male body, and are absent from the female
body.333 Once again, strength and the capacity for heroic action is one of the key traits
that characterize Tibetan visions of masculinity.
Admittedly, eating meat is distinct from hunting or otherwise combatting
animals. One can, after all, eat meat without dominating anything. At the same time,
however, these concerns are not entirely unrelated, either. The key factor in this
discussion of masculinity is strength: it is the display of a significant level of physical
strength that allows hunting or battling dangerous animals to demonstrate an individual’s
masculinity. And as we have seen, eating meat is widely considered necessary to the
development of physical strength. In this context, while eating meat is not, in and of
332
Amdo is located in the northeast of the Tibetan cultural area, primarily in the contemporary Chinese
province of Qinghai, but also including parts of Gansu and northern Sichuan.
333
Makley, Violence of Liberation, 241.
172
itself, a display of masculine strength, it does become part of a larger vision of what it
means to be a certain type of man in Tibet.
This alignment between meat, strength and masculinity is also supported by
interview data with contemporary Tibetans. Above, I have noted that many Tibetans
were concerned with the potential impact of vegetarianism on their health. Such
responses, however, were strongly gendered. Men I interviewed were likely to frame their
concerns in terms of strength. For them, vegetarianism held out the promise of reduced
physical strength. Women, on the other hand, tended to frame their concerns as a
broader question of health, including concerns with disease and general well-being, but
without the emphasis on physical strength.334 For male informants, meat was part of a
broader vision of those aspects of masculinity that invoke ideals of physical strength.
As important as strength is to Tibetan ideals of masculinity, however, it is not the
only characteristic that defines a male. On the contrary, masculine ideals in Tibet
incorporate a wide variety of ideals, and these ideals have also varied significantly in
different historical contexts. I have already mentioned Makley’s emphasis on heroic
masculinity, but she also notes other male-gendered traits.335 Some of these, such as the
importance of begetting progeny and belief that men have more mental strength and
334
Contemporary interview data suggests that for some women, meat may be linked to such feminine
concerns as successful pregnancy and breastfeeding. Unfortunately, I do not have enough data at present to
directly address the place of meat in Tibetan visions of femininity. As new sources come to light, I hope to
address this question more fully.
335
Makley, “The Body of a Nun.”
173
fortitude than women, are relevant to discussions of meat in Tibetan monasticism, and
will be discussed in the next chapter.
For the time being, however, it is sufficient to note that this discussion of the
relationship between meat, strength and masculine ideals highlights only one aspect of
male identity in Tibet. That said, physical strength has been, and remains, an important
aspect of male Tibetan identity. In such a context, and given meat’s strong associations
with physical strength, it is not surprising that some Tibetan men actually celebrate meat
eating, despite the consisted Buddhistic critique of it as unethical. For those Tibetan
men who aspired to fulfill a vision of a strong, masculine hero, meat carried positive
connotations, and vegetarianism was viewed with deep suspicion.
Taming the Food of Demons
As this discussion makes clear, Tibetan cultural and ethical norms are
multifaceted. There is, as discussed extensively in the previous chapter, an ethical model
that draws on classical Buddhist ethics and which condemns the killing of animals in no
uncertain terms. At the same time, however, other cultural ideals have remained
powerful in Tibet, and some of these, far from idealizing vegetarianism, actually
celebrated meat consumption. Rather than a single coherent system, Tibetan attitudes
towards the slaughter of animals and the consumption of their meat consist of multiple
cultural ideals, often in tension.
174
For the purposes of this dissertation, the most useful model for making sense of
the interactions between these disparate ideals involves the rhetoric of ‘taming.’336
Taming involves the replacement of thoughts or practices that are opposed to Buddhist
ideals with their religiously sanctioned counterparts. Thus, an individual might tame
their anger through the application of Buddhist techniques. Similarly, someone who
reflects on Buddhist ethical norms and thereby gives up negative conduct can be said to
have been tamed. As a concept, the idea of taming negative thoughts or actions is
widespread in Tibetan Buddhism. The Tibetan term for taming, dulwa, in fact, is the
same word used to translate the Sanskrit word Vinaya, the collection of formal rules for
monks. By sanctioning certain rules of conduct, the Vinaya tames non-virtuous practices
and brings them in line with Buddhist norms. As this suggests, the idea of taming is
intricately connected with Tibetan conceptions of the purpose of religion.
Examples of the successful taming of non-virtuous practice are widespread.
Goldstein and Beall report that when they returned to their field site after a year away,
one young man, previously a well known hunter, announced that he had given up the
practice because he had decided it was sinful.337 Similarly, a well known story about the
famed saint Milarepa (1052-1135) recalls how he sang a song to a hunter, taming the
latter’s ferocious anger and turning him into a model Buddhist.338 Both of these hunters
were tamed by Buddhist ethical claims.
336
Tib: ‘dul ba
337
Goldstein & Beall, Nomads of Western Tibet, 127.
338
Mumford, Himalayan Dialogue, 74-75.
175
In addition to personal changes such as these, however, the rhetoric of taming can
also be applied to communities and communal practices. The most important instances
of this involve the repudiation and reform of animal sacrifice. In Himalayan Dialogue,
Stan Royal Mumford provides a detailed account of debates surrounding animal sacrifice
in an ethnically Tibetan community living in the Nepal Himalayas. For generations,
these Tibetans had sacrificed animals to local divinities, receiving the deity’s protection in
return. In the nineteen sixties, however, this situation was complicated by the arrival of a
senior Tibetan lama who asserted that such sacrifices were opposed to Buddhist ethical
norms and demanded that they be abandoned. As part of this transformation, he
performed rituals to tame the deities, bringing them in line with Buddhist norms and
assuring they would continue to assist the populace, even without meat offerings.339
As Mumford notes, the taming of animal sacrifice by a senior religious figure is a
pattern that recurs throughout Tibetan history.340 In many ways, this shift from red to
white offerings marks the shift from a non-Buddhist, or quasi-Buddhist status to a fully
Buddhist community. The region Mumford discusses had local lamas in each village,
built Buddhist temples and performed Buddhist rituals, but in the senior lama’s eyes, all
this was in vain if animal sacrifice continued.341 Coming to similar conclusions, the
anthropologist Geoffrey Samuel argues, “The Tibetan emphasis on [white offerings] is
not only, or even primarily, because of the Buddhist prohibitions on taking life. The
339
Mumford, Himalayan Dialogue, 63-92.
340
Mumford, Himalayan Dialogue, 7.
341
Mumford, Himalayan Dialogue, 80.
176
banning of animals sacrifices was historically in Tibet the sign of Tibetan Buddhist
dominance over local pre-Buddhist deity cults.”342 For Mumford and Samuel, Buddhist
ethical ideals are in competition with another set of ideals that prioritizes strength and
control over ethical conduct. By abandoning animal sacrifice, the region displays that it
has repudiated the latter and adopted the former: the villages have been tamed.
As we might expect, in actual practice, the conversion from untamed to tamed is
not as straightforward as this presentation may make it sound. The competing ideals of
strength and ethical conduct continue to influence and inform each other. Mumford
highlights this point by concluding, “The later interpretations do not replace the earlier
ones, but rather develop a sequence of layered meanings.”343 In the case of one local
religious leader, this interplay resulted in a reduction in the number of animals sacrificed,
but not the total elimination of all sacrifices, indicating an acceptance of the lamas’ ethical
arguments, but also an unwillingness to completely abandon the concerns for control that
motivate red offerings.344 In other cases, villagers refused to abandon the sacrifices,
suggesting that in their eyes the power of the sacrifice outweighed the sin it entailed.345
In the region he studied, the debate over animal sacrifice was resolved not by complete
dominance of one side over the other, but by a blending of both perspectives, with all
342
Samuel, Civilized Shamans, 704-705.
343
Mumford, Himalayan Dialogue, 92.
344
Mumford, Himalayan Dialogue, 77.
345
Mumford, Himalayan Dialogue, 82.
177
participants being impacted by the debate, whatever their final position on animal
sacrifice turned out to be.
Another, particularly striking example of the conflict between tamed and untamed
visions of religious practice can be found in the Autobiography of Düdjom Lingpa (18351904). Düdjom Lingpa was a non-celibate lama from Kham, well known for his ability
to control spirits and other divinities. During a dream in 1888, one of Düdjom Lingpa’s
favorite deities appeared and, among other comments, criticized Düdjom for not making
meat offerings:
[The deity] said, “My meat storehouse is empty, come look!” I saw a
room empty save for a single limb of meat, rotten and withered. “What
is needed?” I asked. “This is because you did not give me meat!” He
replied. “Well,” I replied, “scholars say it is inappropriate to offer meat
and blood. What of that?” “Ha ha!” He replied. “From [the great
god] Gönpo Lekden down to goblins, there is no one who doesn’t like
meat!” … “We like everything that is suitable for you as food or
drink!”346
This passage is notable first because Düdjom Lingpa was not writing from the
borderlands. He was a powerful figure closely related to the broad religious revival that
occurred in nineteenth century Kham. Further, vegetarianism flourished during this
time, and many figures, notably Düdjom Lingpa’s teacher Patrül Rinpoché, explicitly
346
bdud ‘joms gling pa, Auotbiography, 228-229. Düdjom Lingpa, Clear Mirror, 169-170.
nga'i sha mdzod stong pa 'di kar ltos dang zer nas khang pa stong pa zhig gi nang na sha lag pa skam la rul pa zhig
las med par mthong/ 'di la ji dgos dris pas/ khyod kyis nga la sha ma ster bas lan pa yin zer/ de la mkhas pa rnams
kyis sha khrag mchod rdzas la bsham mi rung zer bas de ci yin dris pas/ ha ha/ mgon po legs ldan man chad nas
178
critiqued the use of meat in offerings. Düdjom’s concerns, therefore, reflect the fact that
the debate over meat offerings was not limited to a question of taming borderland
populations, but was an active point of contention in areas central to Tibetan religious
culture.
Further, Düdjom Lingpa’s work clearly reflects the fact that this was a debate.
He notes that some ‘learned people’ say that meat should not be used in offerings (it is
hard not to think this remark may be aimed at his teacher Patrül, well known for his
opposition to meat offerings). These reservations, however, conflict with the needs of the
gods, as understood by Düdjom Lingpa and, presumably, many others.
If, as Mumford and Samuel suggest, the shift from red to white offerings marks
the dominance of Buddhism over local cults, what we see here is the incomplete nature of
that dominance. Buddhism may claim to define Tibetan culture, but as the persistent
nature of the debate between tamed—vegetarian—and untamed— meat—offerings
demonstrates, other aspects of Tibetan culture persist. This is true not only of the
southern border region Mumford studied, but also nineteenth century Kham, often
praised as a golden age of Tibetan Buddhist culture.
Debates over vegetarianism map onto this discussion in a number of ways. At the
outset, it is clear that the role meat plays in the animal sacrifice itself aligns with what we
have already seen of the role of meat in Tibetan culture. Untamed gods are powerful,
martial, and capricious. They have power over local populations and in many ways
the'u rang thal skya yan chad sha la mi dgyes pa ni med/ ... /nged cag kyang khyed kyi bza' btung du 'os pa thams
cad la dga' ste rung zhes
179
embody an ideal that draws on images of the warrior-king. And they need meat.
Without it, they will withdraw their protection of the region, resulting, it is understood,
in sick livestock, landslides and other natural calamities.347 Similarly, Düdjom Lingpa’s
visionary encounter suggests that a lack of meat actively angers protector deities.348 It is
no accident that the deities in question are powerful, militaristic deities. Meat, as we
have seen, is intimately connected with notions of strength and power, and these deities’
desire and capacity for meat offerings is similarly connected to their martial personas.
Further, the Buddhist critique of meat eating discussed in the previous chapter
bears a striking resemblance to the critique of animal sacrifice discussed by Mumford.
Both cases feature cultural practices involving the death of animals and are strongly
connected to notions of strength and masculinity. These practices are then critiqued on
Buddhist ethical grounds. In each case that critique rests on an assertion that whatever
power is derived from the practice—influence over the gods or an individual’s physical
strength—do not justify the harm inflicted on animals. In fact, the lama discussed by
Mumford explicitly claims that the rituals he offers as a replacement for the animal
sacrifice are actually more powerful than the sacrifice itself. Likewise, lamas who support
vegetarianism regularly assert that such a diet is superior to a meat-based diet, bringing
benefit both in the present life and the next.
The Tibetan terms themselves also suggest the kinship between the debates over
animal sacrifice and over meat eating. The most common term used to describe animal
347
Mumford, Himalayan Dialogue, 69.
180
sacrifice is marchö, or ‘red offering.’349 This is contrasted with karchö, or ‘white
offering.’350 As discussed in the opening of the previous chapter, the Tibetan terms most
commonly used to refer to meat-based food and vegetarian food are marsé and karsé, ‘red
food’ and ‘white food,’ respectively. On the one hand, we have animal blood, on the
other the clean slate of ethical conduct.
Finally, in both cases the individuals listening to the Buddhist ethical critique are
often uncomfortable with the discussion, fearing a loss of power. Mumford notes that
many villagers feared that without performing the appropriate animal sacrifice they would
lose the support of the local gods. They were willing to adopt the lama’s new ritual
protocol only on the assurance that it would be just as effective in currying the deity’s
favor as the previous sacrifices had been.351 Likewise, many of my own Tibetan
informants expressed a reluctance to adopt vegetarianism out of a fear that they would
lose power and strength. For many, it was only after seeing the example of others
practicing vegetarianism that they decided such a diet was feasible.
Just as the conflict between red and white offerings is, in many ways, a conflict
between competing visions of Tibetan religiosity, the conflict between meat eating and
vegetarianism is also a conflict between competing ideals. On the one hand, red offerings
and meat eating celebrate a vision where strength and dominance over animals is a virtue,
348
bdud ‘joms gling pa, Auotbiography, 228-229. Düdjom Lingpa, Clear Mirror, 169-170.
349
Tib: dmar mchod
350
Tib: dkar mchod
351
Mumford, Himalayan Dialogue, 82.
181
while white offerings and vegetarianism celebrate Buddhist ethics as the highest ideal.
Given these parallels, it is not hard to see support for vegetarianism as another instance of
Buddhist religious leaders attempting to tame cultural models and ideals that conflict
with Buddhist ethical norms. Thus, while Buddhist ethical discourses frequently
opposed meat eating, other models within Tibetan culture supported and encouraged it.
Meat eating was not a neutral practice easily overcome by ethical arguments. Instead, it
carried with it strong connections with ideals of strength and masculinity, and, in its role
in red sacrifices, provided communities with time tested crisis management practices,
making individuals and communities reluctant to abandon the practice.
Further, just as the villagers Mumford studied tried to reconcile Buddhist ethical
demands and their concern for properly placating the local deities, Tibetans concerned
about the implications of meat eating had to reconcile the diet with their knowledge of
Buddhist ethics. For many, this meant integrating these two systems, sometimes
uneasily. Thus, while most Tibetans continued to see meat as necessary for strength and
other aspects of human health, many also came to regard it as at least ethically
problematic. The idea that meat is a necessary evil, discussed above, can be seen as an
integration of Buddhist ethical critiques into cultural models celebrating meat as
necessary for strength and health. Similarly, many individuals who supported
vegetarianism also allowed for its use in times of illness, just as communities who had
largely abandoned red offerings might relapse in times of crisis, feeling that extra power
might be necessary. Even Shabkar, whom we have seen described as Tibet’s most ardent
182
vegetarian, allows meat to be eaten to support bodily strength during times of illness,
tacitly accepting the connection of meat with bodily strength.352
Taking an alternate approach to reconciling these competing ideals, Jigmé Lingpa
asserts that different groups have different responsibilities towards meat. After watching
villagers kill animals in order to offer their meat to an assembly of lamas, he reflects,
“They are worldly people, so they do not recognize that all beings were their mothers and
are able to kill them. But how are we dharma practitioners able to eat it without fault?”353
Villagers are on the periphery of Buddhism’s influence; they have not been tamed
through knowledge of Buddhist ethical norms and so are able to kill. Those aligned with
religion, on the other hand, are expected to be tamed, so cannot consume meat without
fault. For Jigmé Lingpa, the degree to which an individual was expected to adopt
vegetarianism was determined by the degree to which they were affiliated with religious,
rather than secular, ideals.
As the first chapter of this dissertation makes clear, vegetarianism has varied in
popularity across Tibetan history. This itself is a reflection of the fact that Tibet
harbored competing cultural ideals with regards to the consumption of meat. At some
times and places, such as Central Tibet from the thirteenth through fifteenth centuries,
or Kham from the nineteenth century onward, vegetarianism has flourished, seemingly
reflecting an increased importance of Buddhist ethical critiques. At other times,
352
353
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Nectar of Immortality, 609-610. Shabkar, Food of Bodhisattvas, 121.
‘jigs med gling pa, Autobiography, 125.
sems can thams cad kyi rang gi ma byas/ kkhong 'jig rten pas de ltar ma rig ste gsod nus kyang/ rang re chos pa tshos
bza' nus pa'i kha na mi 'dug/
183
however, vegetarians are hard to find, suggesting that such ideals may have waned in
relative importance.
Conclusion
This chapter opened by asking why meat eating has remained so ingrained in
Tibetan society, despite the numerous arguments against it. There is general agreement
that meat tastes good, but this in itself is insufficient to explain its continued popularity.
Sex is also pleasant, after all, and yet monks are widely expected to give it up. This is an
imperfect analogy, of course, as sex is explicitly forbidden by the Vinaya, while criticism
of meat in canonical texts is less consistent. Still, given Tibetan Buddhism’s ability to
induce individuals to give up pleasant practices, attachment to meat’s taste remains an
insufficient explanation for its persistence.
More importantly, the difficulty of growing vegetables and fruit in the highaltitude environment of the Tibetan plateau made abandoning meat difficult. These,
environmental difficulties, combined with cultural norms that associated meat with
physical strength led to a situation where meat was seen as a necessary evil; an idea seen
repeatedly in both ethnographic and textual discussions of vegetarianism. It is in this
interplay between Buddhist ethical ideals and Tibetan ideals of masculinity and strength
that we can begin to understand why meat eating remains ingrained in the Tibetan diet,
despite the sustained and consistent criticism it has faced from many Buddhist leaders.
184
Chapter 4
Vegetarianism and Monasticism
For centuries, vegetarianism in Tibet was practiced primarily by monks. Those
individuals who chose to adopt vegetarianism often did so at the same time that they took
monastic ordination, and texts advocating vegetarianism often did so as part of a broader
discussion of the monastic rules. Some sources even go so far as to explicitly assert that
while monks should be vegetarian, non-monastic Buddhists could eat meat freely. This
persistent relationship is surprising, as the rules governing monastic conduct explicitly
allow monks to eat meat. As we saw in the first chapter of this book, these rules, known
as the Vinaya, allow monks to eat meat as long as they were not personally involved in the
death of the animal.354
Given these explicit permissions, why did vegetarianism in Tibet develop such
strong and persistent connections with monasticism? In this chapter, I will address this
question, noting first the history of the association between vegetarianism and
monasticism in Tibet. I will then examine the view of meat according to each of the
three sets of vows that monks take, including the Vinaya, but also the Bodhisattva vow
354
Shakyamuni, Foundations of the Vinaya, vol 3, 25a-25b.
185
and tantric vows, each of which view meat from a very different perspective. It is in the
hierarchical relationship between these vows, I argue, that we can locate the reason the
Vinaya’s permissions did not restrict the rise of vegetarianism among monastics. Finally,
I return to the theme of ‘taming’ discussed in the previous chapter, noting that monks
embody the rejection of those aspects of masculinity that prioritize physical strength in a
way that other religious professionals, free of monastic commitments, do not. The
rejection of meat, therefore, aligned well with a broader understanding of what it meant
to be a monastic. Thus, the association between vegetarianism and monasticism is
revealed not simply as a question of vows, but as a reflection of cultural ideals invested in
the figure of the monk.
Vegetarianism in the Monastery
The association of vegetarianism with monastic life dates at least to the eleventh
century and the first known instances of vegetarianism in Tibet. In a series of dialogues
with his Tibetan disciple Dromtön (1004-1064), the Indian master Atiśa (980-1054)
suggests that people should examine the Vinaya to see if meat is permitted, with the clear
implication that it is not.355 This is only a passing remark, and Atiśa’s other critiques do
not specify a monastic audience. Still, whether or not Atiśa and Dromtön thought
vegetarianism was only for monks, it is clear that they thought the Vinaya forbade meat.
355
Anonymous, Book of Kadam, 96. Jinpa, Book of Kadam, 174.
186
A century later, the vegetarianism of both Taklung Tangpa (1142-1209) and
Jikten Sumgön (1143-1217) was also closely connected to their monastic vocation. In the
fifteenth century Blue Annals, Gö Lotsawa (1392-1481) describes Jikten Sumgön as, “not
transgressing even the most minute vows. He never knew even the smell of meat or
alcohol.”356 For Taklung Tangpa, Gö Lotsawa makes the connection even more explicit,
“In general, after he became a monk, he never consumed meat or alcohol.”357 By
adopting vegetarianism at the time he took his vows, Taklung Tangpa (at least in Gö
Lotsawa’s telling) seems to have felt that the practice was required after, but not
necessarily before, ordination.
Similarly, the fourth Karmapa hierarch, Rolpé Dorjé (1340-1383), also
abandoned meat and alcohol in connection with his monastic ordination. The Blue
Annals notes, “He guarded his monastic commitments with great subtlety, not allowing
even a hair’s breadth of meat or wine into his presence.”358 In a pattern that would be
repeated frequently in the coming centuries, Taklung Tangpa, Jikten Sumgön and the
fourth Karmapa all practiced vegetarianism in close relationship with their ordination.
As discussed in chapter one, the precise dating of this text is unclear. Thubten Jinpa suggests that while
the composition as known today was not finalized until 1302, it is based around an ‘archaic version’
containing genuine dialogues between Atiśa and Dromtön. (Thubten Jinpa. Book of Kadam, 28)
356
‘gos lo zhon nu dpal, Blue Annals, 705. Roerich, Blue Annals, 599.
de yang tshul khrim rin po che la rag las par gzigs nas rang nyid ‘dul ba’i bcas pa phra mo las mi ‘gal/ dmar dang
chang gi dri tsam yam mi snom/
357
‘gos lo zhon nu dpal, Blue Annals, 727. Roerich, Blue Annals, 619.
spyir rab byung nas sha chang zhal du ‘khyer ma myong/
358
‘gos lo zhon nu dpal, Blue Annals, 592. Roerich, Blue Annals, 499.
‘dul ba’i bcas pa phra mo rnams kyang bsrung zhing/ sha dang chang spu rtse tsam yang spyan lam du mi ‘grim/
187
In Kham, the seventeenth century Nyingma lamas Künzang Sherab (1636-1698)
and Padma Lhündrub Gyatso (1659-1727), the first and second abbots of Pelyül
Monastery, both adopted vegetarianism, a practice that their biographer, Tsering Lama
Jampel Zangpo (b. 1900), associated with their strict adherence to monastic
regulations.359 Further, this same source claims that Padma Lhündrub Gyatso induced
thousands of his disciples to abandon meat as part of a strict monastic regimen.360 Once
again, vegetarianism was intimately associated with strict adherence to monk’s vows.
In addition to such biographical references, many of the critiques of meat eating
mentioned in the second chapter of this dissertation come from texts commenting on the
rules for monks. One of the earliest such references comes from The Vinaya Compendium,
a commentary on the Vinaya by the eleventh century Bön lama Metön Sherab Özer
(1058-1132). While there is nothing in Metön Sherab Özer’s critique that explicitly
claims vegetarianism is only for monks, as a Vinaya commentary, the nature of the text
itself suggests that he is specifically referring to a monastic audience.361 Metön Sherab
Özer was a foundational figure for the Bön monastic tradition, and his ideas about the
inappropriateness of meat for monks were picked up and promoted by several later
359
tshe ring bla ma 'jam dpal bzang po, Immortal Wish-Fulfilling Trees, 45, 67. Tsering Lama Jampal
Zangpo, Garland of Immortal Wish-Fulfilling Trees, 63, 76.
360
tshe ring bla ma 'jam dpal bzang po, Immortal Wish-Fulfilling Trees, 67. Tsering Lama Jampal Zangpo,
Garland of Immortal Wish-Fulfilling Trees, 76.
As discussed in the first chapter of this dissertation, while there is some question as to the reliability of this
source, it does seem likely that a vegetarian culture existed at seventeenth century Pelyül Monastery and
that it centered on a strict adherence to monastic discipline.
361
mnyam med shes rab rgyal mtshan, Received Vinaya, 48-50.
188
commentators, including Nyammé Sherab Gyeltsen (1356-1415) and Shardza Tashi
Gyeltsen (1859-1935).362
Similar passages can be found in Buddhist works as well. Khedrup Jé Gelek
Pelzang (1385-1438), one of the closest disciples of Tsongkhapa (1357-1419), founder of
the Geluk school, writes in his Outline of the Three Vows, “Some say, ‘The Vinaya says it is
suitable to eat meat out of a desire for the taste.’ We would never say this. Even in a
dream, I would never say this is not a fault.”363 Khedrup thus claims, in explicit contrast
to unnamed others, that eating meat out of desire—as in most normal circumstances—is
forbidden to monks.
Vinaya commentaries such as these are meant to apply to all monks, regardless of
what monastery they happen to live in. Another type of text, monastic customaries,
contains rules intended to govern monks’ conduct at specific monasteries. Such texts
often delve into the details of monastic life, including such issues as seating order,
appropriate dress and the ritual calendar. Some also discuss meat. Jigmé Yeshé Drakpa’s
(1696-1750) A Customary for Pel-Narthang, Reting and Gönlung Monasteries, for instance,
asserts that, “During the summer session, those who have won titles, examinees, and
I have not yet located a full copy of this text, but it is quoted extensively by both Nyammé Sherab Gyeltsen
and Shardza Tashi Gyeltsen. For this dissertation, therefore, I am relying on the quotations preserved in
their work.
362
mnyam med shes rab rgyal mtshan, Received Vinaya, 48-50. shar rdza bkra shis rgyal mtshan,
Distinguishing the Three Vows, 261.
363
thub bstan bsod pa, Examining the Regulations, 11.
I have not yet found this passage in Khedrub’s original text. This passage is taken from a citation in a text
by Geshe Thubten Soepa.
sha yi ro la chags pa'i dbang gis sha za rung bar 'dul ba las gnang ngo zhes kho bo cag ni rnam pa thams cad du mi
smra'o/_de lta bu la skyon med ces kho bo ni rmi lam du yang mi smra'o//
189
patrons must never hold a meat festival.”364 While this text does not mandate full
vegetarianism among the monks of these monasteries, it does claim that meat feasts are
inappropriate during times of celebration, making clear that meat is at least somewhat
problematic for monks.
Less than a century later, Kudün Sönam Lodrö’s Menri Customary of 1810
provided rules for the monks of Menri, the central monastery of the Bön tradition. In
this work, Kudün Sönam Lodrö clearly states, in pointed contrast to Jigmé Yeshé
Drakpa’s work, that monks of Menri Monastery, “may not eat meat, alcohol, garlic or
onions.”365 This text is still in use at today’s Menri Monastery in India, where meat is
rarely eaten openly inside monastery precincts, but is regularly consumed outside the
monastery by Menri’s monks.366 Thus, we cannot assume that because Menri’s rules
forbade meat, the monks themselves were fully vegetarian. Still, this text clearly
propagates an ideal in which monks do not eat meat. Further, given Menri’s central
importance to Bön monastic tradition, it is likely that Menri’s prohibition of meat
strongly influenced later Bön vegetarianism.
Like Jikten Sumgön, Taklung Tangpa and Karmapa Rolpé Dorjé, Dolpopa
(1292-1361), founder of the Jonang lineage, abandoned meat at the same time he took
364
’jigs med ye shes grags pa, Customary, 31b.
dbyar chos skabs su ming btags pa dang tshogs langs pa rnams/ chos thog so so’i sbyin bdag bcas pas sha’i dga’ ston
gtan nas mi mdzad cig/
365
Cech, “A Bönpo Bca’ Yig,” 74, 80.
kha zas sde la mang thun sha dang yu ti chang/ sgog gcong rigs/ phyi dro'i kha zas
366
Personal communication from Jed Verity, August 2012.
190
full monastic ordination in 1324.367 Unlike these figures, however, Dolpopa put his
sentiments about meat into writing. Dolpopa’s text, The Prohibition of Meat and Alcohol,
is the earliest example of an entire text specifically focused on meat that I am aware of.
Importantly, Dolpopa structures his work around the role of meat in the three sets of
vows most Tibetan monks take: the vows of a Śrāvaka, Bodhisattva, and Tantric
practitioner.368 He includes other arguments—notably, the incompatibility of meat and
compassion—but, the structure of the text makes clear that he is speaking to an audience
of monks, concerned with how to properly maintain their vows.
Writing less than a century later, Ngorchen Künga Zangpo, founder of the Ngor
lineage of the Sakya school, also penned a work specifically outlining the faults of eating
meat, A Letter to Benefit Students. Like Dolpopa, Ngorchen Künga Zangpo (1382-1444)
structures his work as a reflection on the three vows, with one section dedicated to each
level of vow.369 Within that structure he includes a variety of the arguments discussed in
the second chapter of this dissertation, but, once again, the structure of the text makes
clear that for Ngorchen Künga Zangpo, vegetarianism was a question to be addressed in a
monastic context.
At roughly the same time that Karmapa Rolpé Dorjé, Dolpopa and Ngorchen
Künga Zangpo were active, the Nyingma lama Orgyen Lingpa (1323- ?) revealed the
Chronicle of Padma, a biography of Padmasambhava notable here for containing an edict
367
Stearns, Buddha from Dolpo, 14.
368
dol po pa shes rab rgyal mtshan, Prohibition. Mochizuki, “Scriptures.”
369
kun dga’ bzang po, Letter to Benefit Students.
191
purportedly containing rules which the eighth century Emperor Tri Songdetsen (742796) had promulgated for the monastic community. This text is a terma,370 said to have
been composed during the Imperial Period by Tri Songdetsen but then intentionally
hidden, only to be revealed centuries later by a pre-destined tertön,371 in this case Orgyen
Lingpa.372 As such, The Chronicle of Padma cannot be used as reliable evidence for
vegetarianism during the Tibetan Imperial Period. It can, however, be used to illuminate
attitudes current in the fourteenth century, when it was revealed. In the edict, we find
instructions for monks, including rules concerning diet, “For thirst, monks should only
drink milk and tea. For food, they may eat grain, molasses, honey and cheese. … They
may not consume black, polluted foods like beer and meat.”373
More interesting for this investigation into the connections between meat and
monasticism, however, is the passage immediately following this one. The author, again
writing in Tri Songdetsen’s voice, gives advice to ‘mantrins,’ so called because of their
reliance on mantras and other elements of tantric practice.374 Like monks, mantrins are
religious professionals, engaging in study, practice and ritual on a full-time basis. Unlike
370
Tib: gter ma
371
Tib: gter ston
372
There has been significant discussion of terma in modern scholarship. For a traditional understanding of
the varieties of terma and their revelation, see: Thondup, Tibetan Treasure Literature.
For some of the debates that have surrounded the use of terma as historical sources, see: Aris, Hidden
Treasures. Doctor, Tibetan Treasure Literature. Gyatso, Apparitions of the Self. Terrone, Householders and
Monks.
373
o rgyan gling pa, Chronicle of Padma, 302. Stein, Tibetan Civilization, 144.
dge ‘dun skom du dkar dang ja gsol cig/ zas su bru dang bur sgrang mar thud gsol/ … chang nag sha dang lhad zas
ma sten cig/
374
Tib: sngags pa
192
monks, however, mantrins do not take monastic vows and can marry and have children.375
As with his advice to monks, the author of the Chronicle of Padma comments on dietary
matters for mantrins, declaring, “Mantrins … can eat whatever they enjoy, as long as it is
not poison.”376 While monks are explicitly told to abandon meat, mantrins are allowed to
eat whatever they want. For Orgyen Lingpa, it seems, vegetarianism was something
required of monastics, but not of other types of religious practitioners.
It is important to acknowledge that vegetarianism was not exclusively associated
with monasticism during this time. The Blue Annals, for instance, recounts two
individuals, Jamyang Gönpo (1208- ?) and Orgyenpa Rinchen Pal (1229-1309), who
maintained a vegetarian diet during extended periods of retreat.377 For these individuals,
and presumably others, vegetarianism was a practice associated with periods of intensive
religious practice, rather than one associated with monastic vows. Further, Namka
Gyeltsen’s (1370-1433) biographical prefix to Machik’s Complete Explanation, claims that
the non-celibate female practitioner Machik Labdrön (1055-1149) was vegetarian.378
Assuming this is true, it provides evidence that vegetarianism was at least occasionally
practiced among those who were not ordained.
375
For more about the distinction between monks and mantrins, see: Terrone, Householders and Monks, and
Jacoby, Consorts and Revelations.
376
o rgyan gling pa, Chronicle of Padma, 302. Stein, Tibetan Civilization, 144.
zas su ci dgar longs spyod dug ma za/
377
378
‘gos lo zhon nu dpal, Blue Annals, 794, 818. Roerich, Blue Annals, 677, 699.
ma gcig lab sgron, Explaining the Meaning of Chö, 34. Machik Labdron, Machik’s Complete Explanation,
68.
193
So far, this chapter has been considering, almost exclusively, texts composed prior
to the eighteenth century. And despite these few examples to the contrary, almost all
references to vegetarianism from this time are connected, to one degree or another, with
the practice of monasticism. This begins to change, however, in the mid-eighteenth
century. While the connection between vegetarianism and monasticism never fully goes
away, we do start to see individuals from that time adopting and arguing for
vegetarianism outside of a monastic context.
Perhaps the most important instigator of this shift was Jigmé Lingpa. While
Jigmé Lingpa (1730-1798) took monk’s vows early in his life, he quickly abandoned
them and adopted the mantrin lifestyle typical of tertöns such as himself.379 As discussed
earlier, Jigmé Lingpa wrote several texts extolling vegetarianism. In these works, Jigmé
Lingpa critiques meat from a variety of perspectives, including assertions that meat is
incompatible with monasticism.380 More commonly, however, Jigmé Lingpa critiques
meat-based on its incompatibility with the principle of compassion, often invoking
emotional scenes of animal suffering.381 By focusing on the incompatibility of meat with
the idea of compassion rather than on monastic rules, Jigmé Lingpa extends the range of
potential vegetarians to include mantrins such as himself.
379
For more information on the connections between non-celibate Tantric practice and terma revelation,
see:
Jacoby, To Be or Not to Be Celibate
Terrone, Householders and Monks
Ronis, Celibacy, Revelations, etc.
380
‘jigs med gling pa, Autobiography, 111. ‘jigs med gling pa, Chariot of the Two Truths, vol 1, 348.
381
‘jigs med gling pa, Chariot of the Two Truths, vol 1, 348-349.
194
Jigmé Lingpa’s disciple Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu (1765-1842) also provides a key
insight into the shift away from the association of vegetarianism exclusively with
monasticism. Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu was a monk, but his conversion to vegetarianism did
not occur when he took ordination but came after watching a nomadic couple slaughter a
sheep for him.382 For Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu, vegetarianism was a response to an
emotionally powerful act of violence towards an animal, rather than a consideration of the
conduct appropriate for a monk.
Similarly, Shabkar (1781-1851) does not adopt vegetarianism at the time of his
ordination. Instead, his conversion is also prompted by the sight of sheep lined up for
slaughter in Lhasa.383 Shabkar was a monk, though he also wore the long hair typical of a
mantrin and recalls teasing people who were uncertain of his status.384 Like Jigmé
Gyelwé Nyügu, Shabkar’s vegetarianism, however, was a separate consideration from his
ordination.
At the same time, however, it is worth noting that Shabkar never completely
drops the connection between vegetarianism and monasticism. Towards the end of his
Autobiography, for instance, he sums up his own adherence to the rules for monks by
noting his abstention from meat, garlic, onions and alcohol.385 Thus, while Shabkar’s
primary argument against meat lies in what he perceives to be a contradiction between
382
Anonymous, Biography of Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu, 69-70.
383
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Autobiography, 201a-201b. Shabkar, Life of Shabkar, 232.
384
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Autobiography, 311b-312a. Shabkar, Life of Shabkar, 359.
385
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Autobiography, 480b. Shabkar, Life of Shabkar, 541.
195
the compassion that is required of all Buddhists—regardless of ordination status—and a
meat-based diet, he retains a sense that being vegetarian is part of being a good monk.
Texts from nineteenth and twentieth century Kham further confirm the
emergence of vegetarianism outside of the monastic context. Nyakla Pema Düdül (18161873), for instance, was a mantrin, rather than an ordained monk, and adopted
vegetarianism following a visionary encounter in which the deity Avalokiteśvara, the
Bodhisattva of compassion, berated him for eating meat. In his text recounting this
encounter, Advice for Abandoning Meat, Avalokiteśvara’s arguments against meat are
based squarely on the principle of compassion with no mention of monastic vows.386
A half century later, we find another non-monastic vegetarian in the figure of the
female tertön and non-celibate practitioner Sera Khandro (1892-1940). While the
sources concerning Sera Khandro’s vegetarianism provide few details, we know from her
Autobiography that she was a vegetarian for most of her adult life.387 Thus, while she
never explains the reasons and circumstances surrounding her vegetarianism, her noncelibate status makes clear that the diet is unrelated to monastic vows.
The presence of such non-monastic vegetarians, however, does not mean that the
old association between vegetarianism and monasticism disappears during this period.
Rigzin Garwang’s (1858-1930) The Faults of Eating Meat, for instance, structures its
discussion of meat around the three vows.388 That is, like Dolpopa and Ngorchen Künga
386
nyag bla padma bdud ‘dul, Advice. Nyala Pema Duddul, “Song of Advice.”
387
se ra mkha’ ‘dro, Autobiography, 130-131, 356. Jacoby, Consorts and Revelations, 56, 295.
388
rig ‘dzin gar dbang, Faults of Eating Meat.
196
Zangpo, Rigzin Garwang’s text systematically explores the faults of meat according to
each of the three systems of vows monks take, suggesting that for him, vegetarianism was
a question of adherence to vows.
Several vegetarian lamas from this period also repeated the old pattern of
adopting vegetarianism at the time of monastic ordination. Ngawang Lekpa’s (18641941) Biography, for instance, recalls that while he was inspired to give up meat by the
sight of sheep being slaughtered, his actual adoption of vegetarianism coincided with his
ordination.389 Ngawang Lekpa’s story thus blends both the emotional response to animal
suffering seen in the biographies of Jigmé Lingpa, Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu and Shabkar
with the association between vegetarianism and monastic vows seen in the biographies of
earlier figures.
Similarly, at the time of his ordination as a monk, the Bön lama Shardza Tashi
Gyeltsen also renounced eating any meat that had not died naturally, as well as wearing
clothes made of hide and even riding horses.390 Shardza’s Vinaya commentary also argues
meat is inappropriate for monks, concluding, “Monks must abandon meat, that food for
demons.”391 Nor was Shardza the only Bön monk to adopt vegetarianism in conjunction
with his monastic vows. When Kechok Rangdröl Rangrik (1904-1996) took ordination
at the age of thirty-three, he abandoned meat, alcohol, and even tea.392 Other vegetarians
389
kun dga’ bstan pa’i rgyal mtshan, Life of Ngawang Lekpa, 9.
390
dbra ston skal bzang bstan pa’i rgyal mtshan, Biography of Shardza, 122-123.
391
shar rdza bkra shis rgyal mtshan, Distinguishing the Three Vows, 261.
rab tu byung bas sdig can bdud kyi kha zas sha ni mi bza’ ba spang dgos pa
392
'jam dpal dpa' bo rdo rje rtsal, History of Makser Bön Lineage, 126.
197
from this lineage were not monks, however, making it is clear that vegetarianism was not
purely a monastic phenomena. Still, the fact that Kechok Rangdröl Rangrik adopted
vegetarianism at the time he took his vows indicates that for Bön lamas of his lineage,
some connection between vegetarianism and monasticism remained.
Finally, one of the clearest indications of the continued importance of this
association comes from the memoirs of Tülku Urgyen Rinpoché (1920-1996). Tülku
Urgyen recalls three vegetarians among his teachers. All three, Karmé Khenpo (183519th/20th c.), Samten Gyatso (1881-1945) and Sangngak Rinpoché (19th-20th C) were also
fully ordained monks. Tülku Urgyen himself, however, was neither a monk nor a
vegetarian. In explaining his decision not to ordain, he connects these two:
The reason I didn’t take ordination at that time or any time after was
simply that I didn’t trust that I could keep the vows. Not only did
Samten Gyatso never touch women, he never even touched meat or
liquor. Uncle Sangngak was not different. If you take monk’s vows,
you should keep them pure, like my uncles or like Karmé Khenpo. I
have great respect for anyone who does so, but not for the half-hearted
renunciate so common nowadays.393
For Tülku Urgyen, being vegetarian was part of being a pure monk, as opposed to
a ‘half-hearted renunciate.’ As a non-celibate mantrin, however, Tülku Urgyen clearly
felt that he was in a different category, and that vegetarianism was not compulsory,
This is the only instance I have come across where tea is abandoned alongside meat and alcohol.
393
Tülku Urgyen, Blazing Splendor, 198.
198
echoing the position seen in earlier texts such as the Chronicle of Padma, where
vegetarianism was prescribed for monks but not for mantrins.
Thus, despite the emergence of this practice among non-monastic practitioners
over the last two and a half centuries, the connections between vegetarianism and
monasticism remain strong during this period: several figures adopt vegetarianism at the
same time as they take ordination, works such as Shardza’s Distinguishing the Three Vows
clearly claim that meat is forbidden for monks, and Tülku Urgyen’s memoirs suggest that
he, at least, felt that vegetarianism was a practice for monks but not for mantrins.
That said, the preceding account should not give the impression that all, or even
most, monks were vegetarian during this time. As discussed in chapter one, most of the
available sources that mention vegetarianism only refer to the practice as adopted by elite
practitioners and offer few insights into the dietary practices of rank and file monks.
Even the Vinaya commentaries and customaries that ostensibly govern monastic conduct
do not allow us to reach firm conclusions about the number of monks who practiced
vegetarianism. Given the available evidence, it seems unlikely that rates of vegetarianism
among monks would have ever been high. More likely, the practice remained an ideal
that was widely admired but only actually practiced by a minority of individuals.
It is also worth noting that there is no record of nuns who adopted vegetarianism.
This may be due to the paucity of biographies and other sources written by female
monastics, or it may reflect a broader conception that advanced religious practices
belonged to the sphere of male monasticism but not to female. Sara Jacoby has
199
highlighted the secondary status female monastics held in Tibetan culture, pointing out
that while women could achieve high status in religious circles, such achievements were
relatively rare and often involved non-celibate practice.394 Indeed, the only two female
vegetarians I am aware of prior to the late twentieth century, Machik Labdrön and Sera
Khandro (1892-1940), were both non-celibate practitioners.395 With that said, many
nuns in contemporary Kham have adopted vegetarianism. Thus, without more
biographies of female monastics from earlier eras, it remains impossible to decide
whether the apparent lack of female monastic vegetarianism prior to the present
generation represents an actual lacunae in the practice of vegetarianism or simply a lack of
evidence.
Meat & Vows
These longstanding connections between monasticism and vegetarianism are
striking because the Vinaya rules followed by Tibetan monks explicitly allow monks to eat
meat if certain conditions are met. That is, those monks mentioned above, and
presumably many others whose vegetarianism has gone unrecorded, adopted the practice
despite, rather than because of, the basic rules for monks. Instead, I will show that
vegetarian monks are drawing on concepts more properly associated with the Bodhisattva
vow—a call to compassion for all beings that supersedes the Vinaya rules—to justify their
394
395
Jacoby, Consorts and Revelations.
ma gcig lab sgron, Explaining the Meaning of Chö, 34. Machik Labdron, Machik’s Complete Explanation,
68. se ra mkha’ ‘dro, Autobiography, 130-131, 356. Jacoby, Consorts and Revelations, 56, 295.
200
diet. Vegetarianism thus became a way for monks to practice compassion in a way that
exceeded the minimal requirements of monasticism, effectively positioning themselves as
a kind of monk-par-excellence, even more committed to the renunciatory life than
necessary.
In order to understand this process, it is necessary to examine the types of vows
adopted by Tibetan monks and the place of meat in each. Speaking broadly, most
Tibetan monks adopt three sets of vows, those of Śrāvakas, Bodhisattvas and Tantric
practitioners, each of which corresponds to a specific type of Buddhist practice in Tibetan
doxographical schemes.
The vows associated with the vehicle of the Śrāvakas are focused primarily on the
Vinaya, the official rules for monks and nuns.396 These vows are generally undertaken in
two stages, first as a novice, and then as a fully ordained monk.397 At the novice level, ten
vows are included, including the vow of celibacy and vows not to kill, steal, lie or
consume intoxicants. When a monk becomes fully ordained, the number of vows
increases dramatically, to two-hundred and fifty-three.398 Many of these vows, however,
such as the vow not to touch money, seem to have been considered relatively minor and
396
The Sanskrit term Śrāvakas literally means listener, referring to those who listened to the Buddha’s
teachings. In Tibetan doxographies, Śrāvakas are generally mapped onto the Hīnayāna, or lesser vehicle,
but one should be careful in interpreting these doxographical schemas as if they refer to contemporary nonMahāyāna Buddhists, such as the Theravāda of Southeast Asia.
397
The full ordination lineage for nuns died out in Tibet many centuries ago. Since then, there have been
no fully ordained nuns, only novices.
398
All lineages of Tibetan Buddhism that I am aware of follow the Mūlasarvāstivāda Vinaya. For more
information on the history of the transmission of this lineage to Tibet, see Berzin, “History of
Mulasarvastivada Ordination Lineages in Tibet.”
201
were routinely ignored by almost all Tibetan monks.399 In Tibetan doxographies,
Śrāvakas are said to practice Buddhism for their own benefit, to remove their own
suffering. This self-interested motivation also extends to the vows undertaken at this
level, so that Śrāvakas who undertake monastic vows do so in order to free themselves of
suffering.
According to the vows of a Śrāvaka, as contained in the Mūlasarvāstivāda Vinaya
followed by Tibetan monks, monks are allowed to eat meat, but only if it meets the
requirements of threefold purity. As detailed in the first chapter of this dissertation, this
rule was originally promulgated by the Buddha, in response to criticism by a group of
non-Buddhist ascetics. As recounted in full previously, the Buddha and his monks were
invited to a meal by Sengé, an army general. In preparation for the meal, but without the
Buddha’s knowledge, Sengé slaughters a large animal. Some non-Buddhist ascetics in
the area spread the rumor that the Buddha has knowingly eaten meat killed specifically
for him. In response, the Buddha formulates the rule of threefold purity, according to
which a monk may eat meat as long as they have not seen, heard, or suspected that it has
been killed specifically for them.400
In a Tibetan context, the standard interpretation of the rule of threefold purity is
nicely summarized by Khenpo Shenga (1871-1927), “Meat is not allowed if one has seen,
399
I have never read about or personally met a Tibetan monk who refused to touch money, as would be
required by a strict interpretation of the Vinaya. On the contrary, most monks I have interacted with felt
completely comfortable handling money and making purchases with it.
400
Shakyamuni, Foundations of the Vinaya, vol 3, 25a-25b.
202
heard, or suspected that the meat was prepared by the donor specifically for the eater.”401
For most Tibetans this means that meat purchased in a butcher shop, where the butcher
has killed the animal for sale, but not specifically for the monk, is acceptable, but ordering
meat from a butcher is not. Importantly, a monk who begs for food at a house without
alerting the owner in advance has a reasonable expectation that any meat put in his bowl
was not killed specifically for him and meets the standards of threefold purity.402
Such an interpretation of threefold purity, however, has not gone unchallenged by
Tibetan authors sympathetic to vegetarianism. As Buddhists, these authors were
generally unwilling to say that this rule, understood to be taught by the Buddha himself,
is wrong. Instead, they argue that it simply does not apply to monks living in Tibet.
This argument generally takes two forms. In the first, the rule of threefold purity is
critiqued, not because the rule itself is wrong but because it does not apply to the
monastic lifestyle as lived in Tibet. Secondly, some authors claim that while the rule of
threefold purity is legitimate for those who follow the Śrāvaka system, it is superseded by
the call to compassion found in Mahāyāna scriptures.
A good example of the first position can be found in the Chariot of the Two
Truths, written by Jigmé Lingpa in 1780.403 In this work, Jigmé Lingpa provides
401
gzhan phan chos kyi snang ba, Tree of White Lotuses, 583.
za ba po'i phyir sbyin bdag gis sha bsngos par mthong ba dang thos pa dang dogs pa'i sgo nas shes na bza' bar mi
bya'o/
402
According to Vinaya regulations, monks are supposed to beg for their food from house to house on a
daily basis, saving nothing for the next day. In Tibet, this was only rarely practiced, and most monks
sought after reliable sources of food.
403
The colophon to this text does not mention a date, but Jigmé Lingpa’s Autobiography says it was written
in 1780. (‘jigs med gling pa, rang rnam 306)
203
extensive quotations from the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra arguing against meat, including one that
claims, “As for meat with threefold purity, there is absolutely none that is unexamined,
unrequested and unincited. Therefore, don’t eat meat.”404 Thus, without saying that the
rule itself is mistaken, Jigmé Lingpa nevertheless claims that in real-world situations, it
simple doesn’t apply.
This argument is taken further by Shabkar Tsokdruk Rangdrol in his Nectar of
Immortality, composed during the 1840s. In an extended passage from this text, Shabkar
bluntly critiques the doctrine of threefold purity by name, providing one of the longest
and most interesting critiques of the applicability of the rule of threefold purity of which I
am aware:
In the past, the Buddha and his retinue depended on alms for their
food and lived in the forest without a settled abode. They did not
hoard food or money and did not engage in commerce. Needless to
say, they did not participate in the meat trade. Behaving like this, they
were not involved in any wrong livelihood and any [meat] had threefold
purity.
Nowadays, monasteries are built in towns, and become even richer than
the laypeople! Because of this, butchers come to live nearby, killing
because they are certain the monks will buy the meat. And the monks
buy as much meat as can be slaughtered. The killers and buyers,
working in dependance on each other, directly kill thousands of goats,
sheep and other beings.
404
‘jigs med gling pa, Chariot of the Two Truths, vol 1, 349.
rnam gsum dag pa'i sha rnams ni/ ma brtags pa dang ma bslangs dang/ ma bskul ba yang yongs med pas/ de bas
sha ni mi bza' 'o/ zhes gsungs so/
204
If this is [meat] with threefold purity and does not involve a fault, then
these people must all have gone where everything is all-encompassing
purity!405
Shabkar invokes the difference between the lifestyle of the Buddha and that seen
in Tibetan monasteries to argue that while threefold purity may have applied in its
original setting, that is no longer the case in Tibet. In Tibet, where monks do not beg for
their daily meal, the rule of threefold purity is simply not relevant, and monks should not
eat meat.
Despite such critiques, however, most discussions of Vinaya regulations—at least
most of those that mention meat at all—continue to maintain that meat is acceptable fare
according to the rules of the Vinaya, at least under certain circumstances. Even Jigmé
Lingpa and Shabkar do not actually say that the rule of threefold purity is wrong, simply
that it doesn’t apply in a Tibetan context. Thus, even these strident proponents of
vegetarianism admit that there are some circumstances when a monk holding Śrāvaka
vows is allowed to eat meat. In order to advance their case further, these and other
authors argue that while the rule of threefold purity is valid in the context of the vehicle
of the Śrāvakas, it is superseded by the Bodhisattva vow, which requires monks to abstain
from meat.
405
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Nectar of Immortality, 601. Shabkar, Food of Bodhisattvas, 115.
sngon sangs rgyas ‘khor bcas kyi zas bsod snyoms gnas shing drung ba yin pa'i gnas nges med/ zas nor gyi gsog 'jog
dang nyo tshong mi byed pas sha yi nyo tshong mi byed pa smos ci dgos/ de ltar mdzad pa la rnam gsum dag pa zhig
ma gtogs log 'tsho 'ong thabs med la/ deng sang grong dgon pa btab/ khyim pa las lhag gi gsog 'jog rgya chen po byas/
de'i thag nyer shan pa bsam bzhin sdod du bcug/ shan pas kyang dge 'dun pas sha nyo yong shag byas bsad/ dge 'dun
pas kyang bsad nas sha mang po yod shag byas nyos/ gsod mkhan nyo mkhan gnyis ka'i rgyu rkyen la brten nas sems
205
In addition to their monastic vows, all Tibetan monks take the Bodhisattva vow,
signifying entrance to the Mahāyāna vehicle. Someone who takes this vow commits to
placing the needs of others before their own and to postponing their own liberation from
suffering until all other beings have been freed. As such, according to standard Tibetan
interpretations, there is a fundamental difference in motivation between the Śrāvaka vows
and that of the Bodhisattva vow. This difference in motivation is so strong that some
Tibetan theorists, such as the Sakya master Gorampa (1429-1489), have argued that
when someone who holds monastic vows according to the Śrāvaka system then takes the
Bodhisattva vow, their vows are actually transformed, becoming Mahāyāna vows.406 Even
in such situations, however, the actual rules and requirements governing conduct remain
the same. Thus a monk who takes Bodhisattva vows retains his monastic ordination, and
should continue to abide by either the ten or two-hundred-fifty-three vows that come
with it, depending on the individual’s ordination level.
The Bodhisattva vow requires individuals to subordinate their own interests to
those of other beings. Killing out of self interest, such as out of desire for meat, is a clear
violation of this principle, and all Tibetan theorists agree that such acts contradict the
Bodhisattva vow. As discussed in chapter two of this work, however, there is debate
about whether or not purchasing meat in the market is the equivalent of killing the
can ra lug brgya stong mang po'i srog mngon sum gcod pa 'di la nyes pa gang yang med/ rnam gsum dag pa yin na
thams cad dag pa rab 'byams 'ba' zhig tu song 'dug pas/
406
Sobisch, Three Vow Theories, 89-91.
206
animal oneself. Many pro-vegetarian authors echo Jigmé Lingpa when he asserts, “It is
laughable to claim there is a difference between the sin of killing and the sin of eating.”407
If one accepts the equivalency of killing and eating meat, then it is clear that
eating meat is incompatible with the Bodhisattva vow, and several Tibetan authors have
arrived at precisely this position. To provide just one example of many, Ngawang Tenzin
Norbu (1867-1940) writes, in the context of an extended critique of meat eating,
“Specifically, on the path of the Bodhisattvas, one must be the refuge and protector to all
beings. We say we will protect these unfortunate beings, but instead of sheltering them,
we kill them without mercy.”408
Deciding that meat is forbidden, or at least considered sinful, according to the
ideal of the Bodhisattva vow, however, directly conflicts with the permissions granted in
the Śrāvaka Vinaya. Nor is meat the only area where the Bodhisattva vow may conflict
with Vinaya requirements. The Bodhisattva vow is based on an intention—to benefit
others—and it is not hard to see areas where fulfilling that intention might contradict the
strict requirements of the Vinaya. Extreme examples include the need to kill someone
before they can kill others, but there are many similar situations that occur more
frequently, such as the need to handle money in order to give it to a beggar. In order to
407
‘jigs med gling pa, Tale of the Deer, 759. Jigme Lingpa, Story of the Hunted Deer, 7.
za dang gsod pa’i sdig pa la/ khyad par yod na gad mo bro/
408
ngag dbang bstan 'dzin nor bu, Vase of Amritua, 100.
khyad par theg chen byang chub sems pa'i lugs la mtha' yas pa'i sems can thams cad skyabs dang skyob pa byed dgos
rgyu la/ bskyab bya'i sems can las ngan can de la snying rje med par bsad nas/ skyob byed du khas blangs pa
207
deal with such contradictions between the vows, Tibetan authors developed theories
delineating the relationships between the various vows.
The literature associated with these theories, known as three-vow theory,
addresses several questions about the nature of the three vows.409 We have already seen
several works with the words ‘three vows’ in their title, since such texts often provide
commentary on the rules of each individual vow. Several passages cited above that deal
with the question of threefold purity, for example, come from texts included in the threevow genre. In addition to providing these details about the individual vows, however,
many such works discuss three-vow theory more broadly, exploring and explaining the
relationships between each set of vows, as well as how individual people should relate to
the vows as a complete set of three. Among the various debates contained in such works,
we can find diverse opinions on such scholastic questions such as whether the three vows
coexist or not, as well as whether they share the same nature, or are fundamentally
different.410
While Tibetan theorists disagree on the precise nature of the relationship between
the various vows, there is general agreement that the vows are hierarchical. That is,
because of its superior intention, the Bodhisattva vow supersedes the Vinaya in
importance, and because of their superior view, the tantric samayas supersede the
Bodhisattva vow. Thus, in cases where strict adherence to the Vinaya rules would entail
409
410
Tib: sdom gsum
These debates are somewhat outside the scope of this present work. For a full discussion of these topics
according to various three vow theories from different periods in Tibetan history, see Sobisch, Three Vow
Theories in Tibetan Buddhism (Dr Ludwig Reichert Verlag, 2002).
208
an individual breaking his Bodhisattva vows, the individual is expected to follow the
Bodhisattva vow. In his Clearly Distinguishing the Three Vows, Sakya Paṇḍita (11801251) used meat eating as an example illustrating this principle, “Śrāvakas may eat meat
that has threefold purity. To refuse would be the conduct of Devadatta. In the
Mahāyāna, meat is repudiated. Eating it is said to be the cause of birth in the lower
realms.”411 As the Bodhisattva vow is superior to the Śrāvaka vows, those who have taken
it are not allowed to eat meat, even though such a diet is appropriate for Śrāvaka monks.
Such a view is given canonical grounding in a passage from the Laṅkāvatāra
Sūtra, where meat is proscribed for Mahāyāna practitioners, in explicit contrast to the
Śrāvakas, whose consumption of meat is allowed, if only grudgingly:
O Mahamati, you may believe that I have permitted [eating meat], or
that I have permitted it for those Śrāvakas who are near to me. But, I
have condemned the eating of meat for those who live in charnel
grounds and who perform the yoga of dwelling in love, those sons and
daughters of my lineage who have correctly entered the Mahāyāna and
who consider all beings to be their only child.412
This passage has been cited repeatedly by pro-vegetarian authors, including
Dolpopa, Jigmé Lingpa and Shabkar. These authors argue, based on both three-vow
411
kun dga' rgyal btshan, Distinguishing the Three Vows, 34. Sakya Paṇḍita Künga Gyaltsen, A Clear
Differentiation, 66.
nyan thos rnam gsum dag pa’i sha/ bza’ rung gal te mi za na/ lhas byin gyi ni brtul zhugs ‘gyur/ theg pa che las sha
rnams bkag/ zos na ngan ‘gro’i rgyu ru gsungs/
412
Shakyamuni, Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra, 156a-156b.
blo gros chen po gal te ngas gnang bar bya bar 'dod dam/ nga'i nyan thos rnams kyis bsnyen par rung ba
zhig yin na ni/ byams pas gnas pa'i rnal 'byor can dur khrod pa rnams dang/ theg pa chen po la yang dag
par zhugs pa'i rigs kyi bu dang/ rigs kyi bu mo rnams la sems can thams cad bu gcig bzhin du 'du shes
bsgom pa'i phyir sha thams cad za ba gcod par yang byas so/
209
theory and scriptural authority, that because meat is forbidden in the Mahāyāna, the
permissions granted by the Vinaya are effectively irrelevant, as they are superseded by the
Bodhisattva vow.
Finally, all—or almost all—Tibetan monks receive ritual initiations into one or
more tantric practice lineages.413 With these initiations they undertake tantric vows, or
samayas.414 Among most enumerations of samaya vows is a requirement that vow-holders
ritually consume meat—as well as other impure substances such as feces, semen and
blood—in the context of a ritual food offering to the tantric deities. At least in certain
ritual contexts, therefore, tantric vows actually require the consumption of meat. Most
commonly, this occurs during collective food offering rituals, where participants gather
and ceremonially offer food to the tantric deities, including the five meats. These five
meats—human, cow, dog, elephant and horse—were all considered unclean and not
suitable for consumption in India, where the tantric feast ritual originates.415 Eating
these unclean meats, therefore, was a particularly powerful way of violating social taboos
and demonstrating the primordial purity of the substances themselves.416
Above, we saw how Tibetan three-vow theories indicate that the Bodhisattva
vows supersedes Vinaya requirements. The same principle also holds that the samayas
supersede the Bodhisattva vow and is invoked in order to explain why meat is acceptable
413
For a good introduction to tantric principles in general, see David Gordon White’s introduction to
Tantra in Practice (3-36).
414
415
Tib: dam tshig
dpal sprul o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 322. Patrül Rinpoché,
The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 207.
210
in this context. Thus, lamas who are otherwise staunch vegetarians are willing to
consume meat in the context of the feast offering ritual. Even Shabkar, who regularly
critiques meat in the strongest terms, was willing to eat meat in the context of the feast
offering.417
At the same time, however, the superior status of tantric samayas does not fully
release individual practitioners from the strictures of the lower vows. Just as Tibetan
theorists are united in their opinion that higher vows supersede lower vows, they also
agree that when the vows are not in contradiction the lower vows remain in effect.
Sobisch notes that Ācārya Marpo (circa 11th century), one early theorist who did assert
that adherence to tantric vows removed any requirement to act in accordance with the
Vinaya, was roundly criticized by later theorists.418
Thus, while higher vows supersede lower vows in cases of conflict, the lower vows
remain in effect when there is no conflict. Outside of specifically tantric situations (such
as the feast offering), therefore, pro-vegetarian authors assert that meat eating should be
governed by the Bodhisattva vow, in line with standard versions of three-vow theory.
Thus, as we have seen previously, Patrül Rinpoché (1808-1887) is able to claim that
instead of being a Tantric requirement, eating meat under normal circumstances actually
violates Tantric vows, “Eating [the five meats] wantonly in towns, because you are
attached to the taste of meat, is the fault known as, ‘behaving carelessly with the samaya
416
Wedemeyer, Making Sense of Tantric Buddhism, 122.
417
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Autobiography, 389a. Shabkar, Life of Shabkar, 449.
418
Sobisch, Three Vow Theories, 13-14.
211
of consumption’”419 Thus, for Patrül and other lamas sympathetic to vegetarianism, it is
clear that while the tantric samayas do require the consumption of meat, this does not
give tantric practitioners license to eat meat however they please. Indeed, both Patrül
and Shabkar routinely mock those lamas they see as abusing their tantric samayas by
claiming to be eating meat as a tantric rite, while actually being motivated only by desire.
As should be clear at this point, the consumption of meat is involved in a
complicated web of vows and obligations taken by monks. In order to resolve this
apparent conflict between the various vows, many pro-vegetarian Tibetan authors invoke
the doctrine that higher vows supersede lower. All sources agree that the Vinaya does
allow monks to eat meat that passes the test of threefold purity (this remains true even
though some, such as Shabkar and Jigmé Lingpa, doubt that any meat available in Tibet
does pass this test). At the same time the compassion required by the Bodhisattva vow
supersedes the Vinaya’s permissions.420 Thus, according to these authors, Tibetan monks
should never eat meat, as the Bodhisattva vow supersedes the Vinaya. The specific
requirements of tantric samayas supersede the Bodhisattva vow, however, so that in
specific ritual contexts, meat is not only permissible, but required. Outside of these
specific contexts, however, the samayas do not require meat consumption, and the
Bodhisattva vow remains in effect. Thus, through invoking the hierarchical nature of the
419
dpal sprul o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 323. Patrül Rinpoché,
The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 208.
sha'i ro la sred pas grong yul du bag med du zos na/ dang /blang gi dam tshig bag med du spyad pa zhes bya ste/ de
yang 'gal/
420
Figures explicitly making this argument include Sakya Pandita, Dolpopa, Ngorchen Künga Zangpo,
Jigmé Lingpa, and Shabkar.
212
three vows, these pro-vegetarian authors arrive at a position where vegetarianism should
be the norm for monks, while meat is permitted in the specific context of the ritual feast.
A Good Monk
We should now have the tools to begin to address the question at the heart of this
chapter: why is the connection between monasticism and vegetarianism so strong when
the Vinaya, the monastic code, specifically allows meat to be consumed as long as it meets
the test of threefold purity? As we have seen, there is no blanket proscription of meat in
the Vinaya. Instead, it is specifically allowed, as long as the monk in question has not
been personally involved in the death of the animal. And yet, numerous figures
throughout Tibetan history have argued that monks should not eat meat, while others
have exemplified this connection by abandoning meat at the same time as they took
monastic vows.
In making these arguments, however, these authors are not drawing on the
Vinaya, but rather on concepts associated with the Bodhisattva vow. That is, monks
should avoid meat not because it is forbidden by the monastic code, but because it
conflicts with the ideals of the Bodhisattva vow, which supersedes that code in
importance. As we have seen, several authors made this explicit, admitting that
Śrāvakas—those monks without Bodhisattva vows—are permitted to eat meat, but that
anyone who has taken the Bodhisattva vow may not. The association between
monasticism and vegetarianism, therefore, was not about the formal monastic regulations
213
but rather was derived from the fact that all Tibetan monks have also taken the
Bodhisattva vow, which supersedes their monastic vows in cases of conflict between the
two. In a very real sense, then, those monks who adopted vegetarianism at the time of
their ordination and those who argued that monks should not eat meat were responding
to a higher calling than the Vinaya code.
It is worth remembering here that vegetarians were a small minority of Tibet’s
monastic population. The vast majority of monks ate meat whenever it was available,
presumably with little or no consideration of its moral or ethical implications. Adopting
vegetarianism, therefore, was a way for monks to distinguish themselves from the
majority of their peers. Moreover, it was a way to distinguish themselves that had
obvious connections with the ideals of the Bodhisattva vow. A monk who adopted
vegetarianism was not simply abiding by the baseline rules of the Vinaya, the basic code
all monks are expected to adhere to, but was motivated by the Bodhisattva vow. This
would not only set them apart from their peers, but also set them above their peers, at
least implicitly.
There is also ample evidence that monks who adopted vegetarianism were
considered different and superior to their peers in practice, as well as in theory. In this
context, it is worth repeating Tülku Urgyen’s explanation for why he never took monastic
vows himself:
The reason I didn’t take ordination at that time or any time after was
simply that I didn’t trust that I could keep the vows. Not only did
Samten Gyatso never touch women, he never even touched meat or
214
liquor. Uncle Sangngak was not different. If you take monk’s vows,
you should keep them pure, like my uncles or like Karmé Khenpo. I
have great respect for anyone who does so, but not for the half-hearted
renunciate so common nowadays. Maybe it was my lack of pure
perception, but I didn’t see that many pure monks even then.421
For Tülku Urgyen, the vegetarianism, teetotaling, and strict celibacy of these
three figures clearly separated them from the general monastic population, establishing
them as exemplars of proper monastic conduct. If he was not going to be able to live up
to this standard, he felt, it was better not to become a monk at all.
A similar sentiment can be seen in the oral histories surrounding some lesser
known lamas from recent generations in Kham. During the summer of 2010, I was
repeatedly told about a monk named Lagen Kama (? -1959 or 1960) who used to live in
the vicinity of Palpung Monastery, near Degé. Among other qualities, Lagen Kama was
a vegetarian. Lagen Kama did not leave a written biography, but his story was well
known to the monks of Palpung Monastery fifty years after his death. Further, his
vegetarianism was significant enough to be included in the oral tradition stories that were
told about him, indicating both that vegetarianism was not terribly widespread during his
time and that others were impressed by Lagen Kama’s adoption of the practice. As with
Tülku Urgyen’s attitude towards his uncles, it is clear that Lagen Kama’s peers respected
and admired his practice of vegetarianism.
421
Tülku Urgyen, Blazing Splendor, 198.
215
For monks, vegetarianism was less about strict adherence to the monastic code
than about adherence to the Bodhisattva ideal. By adopting vegetarianism, a monk could
assert—and publicly display—their adherence to the higher ideals of the Bodhisattva
vow. This would, in effect, separate them from the more conventional diets and lifestyles
of the majority of their peers. If monks, broadly defined, are those who adhere to the
Vinaya regulations, then vegetarianism was one means for an individual to distinguish
himself from the broader community of monks and to define himself as a Bodhisattva.
Monasticism and Masculinity
The superiority of the Bodhisattva vow over the Vinaya helps explain the role of
vegetarianism within a monastic context, but it does not explain why vegetarianism was
so often associated with monks, but not other religious professionals. Mantrins, for
instance, also take the Bodhisattva vow. And yet we have seen the fourteenth century
Chronicle of Padma forbid meat to monks, while allowing it for mantrins. In the
twentieth century, Tülku Urgyen linked his decision to not become a monk with his
inability to give up meat, suggesting that while monks should be vegetarian, mantrins
such as himself had no such requirement.
In order to account for this division, it is helpful to return to the discussion of
taming begun in the previous chapter of this dissertation. There, we saw that meat eating
carried strong associations with physical strength, and was thereby implicated in a vision
of masculinity that celebrated physical, even heroic, strength and the ability to dominate
216
others. Buddhism, in turn, functioned to tame such ideals, shifting individuals’ and
communities’ relationships with animals towards the compassionate ideal espoused by
Mahāyāna Buddhist ethics.
In many ways, monks are the embodiment of this process, at least ideally.422 This
is suggested by the terms themselves: as noted previously, the Tibetan term for taming,
dulwa, is also used to translate the Sanskrit term Vinaya, the term for the monastic code.
In “The Body of a Nun,” Charlene Makley has noted that monks are often defined by
their rejection of traits paradigmatic of masculinity, most prominently marriage and the
begetting of progeny. For the Tibetans she studied, producing a family is the
quintessential act of a lay Tibetan man. By renouncing heterosexual sex, monks separate
themselves from traditional understandings of masculine identity. It was this act of
separation that defined an individual as a monastic, rather than a lay person.423
This does not mean that becoming a monk is emasculating. Makley identifies
other male-gendered traits, such as wisdom and mental fortitude, that are enhanced by
their association with monasticism.424 As Makley explains, “monkhood was not
fundamentally a repudiation of masculinity, but the renunciation of those aspects of lay
manhood that were most seen to hinder progress on the path, i.e. heterosexuality and
422
It is important to recognize that not all Tibetan monks adhere to the renunciant ideal to the same
degree. As Makley notes, Tibetan monasticism, particularly in large monasteries, was designed to allow
those who chose to fully refine their masculine tendencies, while offering supporting roles to those not so
inclined. (Violence of LIberation, 246)
423
Makley, “The Body of a Nun,” 271-272.
424
Makley, “The Body of a Nun,” 270.
217
responsibilities for the household.”425 By ordaining, therefore, monks could promote or
enhance some aspects of their masculine identity, at the same time as downplaying
others.
Not only are monks characterized by their rejection of heterosexual sex and family
life, this act of renunciation is also a key source of their ritual power and authority. As
Makley observes in The Violence of Liberation, monks derive, “great ritual and moral
power” from the act of taming their sexual urges.426 Monastic ordination, therefore,
rather than being a rejection of masculine identity, in fact serves to refocus and channel
an individual’s masculinity. Makley makes this point nicely, noting a “widespread
assumption that the passage to monkhood was an essential means by which the explosive
potential of heroic masculinity could be channelled and refined.”427
If we return to the language of taming, we can say that monks are those who have
tamed their masculinity, bringing its power—or at least potential power—to the service
of religious ends. In effect, by taking ordination, monks turn the sexual and violent
impulses that characterize lay masculine identity into the mental strength and power
understood to characterize monastic masculinity. Monks, in effect, represent the
idealized form of tamed Buddhism: powerful, but with that power directed towards
religious ends.
425
Makley, “The Body of a Nun,” 275.
426
Makley, Violence of Liberation, 193.
427
Makley, Violence of Liberation, 243.
218
Vegetarianism aligns well with this vision. As we saw in the previous chapter,
meat is associated with physical strength, and through that association is involved in
those visions of masculinity that celebrate such strength. Vegetarianism, on the other
hand, is associated with tamed forms of Buddhism that prioritize mental strength. As
such, it fits well with the vision of monasticism presented here, where the masculine
potential for physical power is tamed and directed towards mental strength.
Vegetarianism is clearly not a necessary component of the monastic lifestyle, as most
monks continued to eat meat after their ordination. The ideals encapsulated by
vegetarianism, however, fit well with the ideals and social role of monastics.
If monks derive their power from the renunciation of sex and the taming of their
masculinity, the same is not necessarily true of mantrins. Most obviously, mantrins are
not celibate; they are able to marry and have families. As we saw above, celibacy is the
single key factor distinguishing monks and laymen. With no pretense towards celibacy,
mantrins are in a fundamentally different category.
Further, just as monks derive authority and ritual power from their celibacy,
mantrins derive power from their sexual activity. Such sexual activity is said to fulfill a
variety of religious goals, but these all hinge on sex’s ability to release energy blocks in the
subtle body.428 According to tantric models of the body, it is pervaded by a series of
energy channels. Through the proper performance of sexual practices, blocks in these
428
Jacoby, Consorts and Revelations, 222.
219
channels can be released and their latent power harnessed.429 In this way, mantrins derive
a portion of their perceived ritual power from the very thing that monks renounce.
Mantrins are also distinguished from monks through the avenues through which
they exercise this ritual power, with mantrins being frequently associated with the
performance of violent, exorcistic rituals. Admittedly, this distinction is less clear than
the question of celibacy, as monks also frequently perform wrathful, violent rituals and
mantrins frequently engage in peaceful rituals. Nevertheless, Nicolas Sihlé has noted that
in popular conception mantrins tend to be associated with violent, wrathful rituals more
than monks.430 This observation aligns with my own field experience, where informants
tended to associate mantrins with the violent exercise of ritual power and monks with
study and other non-violent forms of ritual and mental power. There is significant
overlap between these two spheres, but on a general level, this distinction persists.
Above, I have argued that vegetarianism maps closely onto the model of celibate
monasticism. Vegetarianism is quintessentially a tamed practice, and monks embody
tamed Buddhism. Mantrins, on the other hand, occupy a more ambiguous position with
respect to tamed Buddhist ideals. They are Buddhist practitioners, but their celebration
of the power that comes with sexuality and their emphasis on wrathful ritual also draws
on themes more closely associated with Tibet’s untamed religious spheres. As such,
vegetarianism does not map as well onto mantrins as it does onto monks.
429
Jacoby, Consorts and Revelations, 222.
430
Sihlé, “The Ala and Ngakpa Priestly Traditions,” 157-158.
220
In practice, of course, things are not as neat as this model would suggest. As I
noted previously, there have been several mantrins closely associated with vegetarianism,
especially after the eighteenth century. Jigmé Lingpa, in particular, played a pivotal role
in the later spread of vegetarianism, helping to turn it from a practice restricted to monks
to a practice available to all. Still, despite such important outliers, we have seen a broad
pattern emerge in which monks are associated with tamed masculinity while mantrins are
not, or at least are less so. In such a model, vegetarianism aligns much more closely with
monasticism, helping to explain the persistent association of vegetarianism with monks,
rather than mantrins.
Conclusion
In this chapter, we have seen a persistent connection between vegetarianism and
the practice of monasticism in Tibet, despite the fact that the Vinaya, the rules for
monks, allows monks to eat meat so long as they are not personally responsible for the
death of the animal. This relationship was seen in the biographies of monks who
adopted vegetarianism at the time of their ordination, as well in texts that explicitly claim
that monks should not eat meat. Further, this relationship persisted throughout the
history of vegetarianism in Tibet, from its first appearances in the eleventh century
through the present. For long periods, in fact, vegetarianism in Tibet seems to have been
an almost exclusively monastic phenomenon.
221
And yet there is no denying that the rules for monks explicitly allow the
consumption of meat. Instead of finding the root of the connection between
vegetarianism and monasticism in the Vinaya, therefore, we must look to the ideals of
compassion incorporated into the Bodhisattva vow. In was on the basis of that vow—
adopted by all Tibetan monks alongside the Vinaya—that most pro-vegetarian authors
based their claim that monks should avoid meat. Drawing on this discourse, a minority
of monks adopted the practice of vegetarianism, despite the personal hardships it
entailed, and thereby distinguished themselves from the larger body of monks. Thus,
vegetarianism became one marker of an individual’s exemplary conduct, effectively
marking them as a superior form of monastic.
Further, monasticism involved the taming of those aspects of masculinity opposed
to religious ideals. Primarily, this consists of the renunciation of marriage and family life.
Meat eating, however, as a masculine practice opposed to religious ideals, also fits this
pattern of taming and renunciation, aligning vegetarianism with broader conceptions of
what it meant to be a monk. In contrast, vegetarianism did not fit as well for lay
practitioners such as mantrins, who were not expected to renounce family life or other
aspects of masculine identity. Vegetarianism, therefore, was frequently connected to
monasticism, but not to those without ordination, even if they were religious
professionals expected to adhere to the Bodhisattva vow.
222
Chapter 5
The Search for Legitimacy
The previous three chapters have highlighted vegetarianism’s association with
idealized forms of religious practice, particularly monasticism. Such a diet demonstrated
an individual’s adherence to the Bodhisattva ideal and tamed, monastic religiosity. As
this suggests, vegetarianism was a powerful way for individuals to display and cultivate
religious legitimacy. Such legitimacy—a popular perception that the individual was
motivated by religious goals, rather than economic gain, political power or other worldly
aims—was crucial in the cultivation of disciples and patrons, making vegetarianism a
practice capable of impacting the development of a religious leader’s success in
propagating their lineage.
In this, the final chapter of this dissertation, I will address the role of
vegetarianism in developing religious legitimacy. In order to do this, I will specifically
focus on vegetarianism in nineteenth and early twentieth century Kham. As noted in the
first chapter, vegetarianism flourished during this time, achieving a level of popularity
that seems to have been greater than at any time prior to the present. I will argue that
three points are key to this popularity: the turbulent political and religious environment
223
in Kham at this time, the increasing importance given to monastic practice, and the early
example set by some of the most important religious figures of the time. The unstable
political and religious environment meant that individual lamas had to struggle to
establish their legitimacy. Thanks to the importance of monasticism and the example set
by key figures, vegetarianism proved to be an important means to do so.
Political and Religious Instability
Nineteenth and early twentieth century Kham is perhaps most famous for hosting
the rimé, or ‘non-sectarian,’ movement. This movement, as it is understood by many
today, celebrated all Buddhist schools as valid religious paths. While those aligned with
this movement encouraged practitioners to follow their own lineages, they also
encouraged respect across religious divides and frequently received and gave teachings
from other lineages.431 This emphasis on the rimé movement, however, obscures the fact
that during this time period, Kham experienced high levels of both political and religious
instability. This included repeated, violent conflict between rival polities within Kham,
as well as invasion and occupation by forces from both Lhasa and Beijing. This political
instability was often mirrored in religious instability as well, with frequent—and
sometimes violent—sectarian attacks.
Prior to the nineteenth century, Kham was not a unified region, but rather a
collection of independent or semi-independent kingdoms. These kingdoms frequently
431
Ringu Tulku, The Rimé Philospohy of Jamgon Kongtrul, 2.
224
fought with each other, annexing land and the people who lived and worked on that land.
By the mid-seventeenth century, a series of skillful military maneuvers and alliances
brought the kingdom of Degé to the fore, a position which it consolidated over the next
century and a half.432 The ascendency of Degé, however, did not mean that other
kingdoms in Kham accepted its authority, merely that Degé managed to establish itself as
a political and cultural power in the region, a fact reflected in its centrality to the story
told here.
In 1798, Degé experienced a coup, with the ruling queen being forced into exile
by a collection of ministers and important lamas. As justification for this, the coup’s
instigators cited Queen Tsewang Lhamo’s (? -1812) affinity for the Nyingma teachings
of Jigmé Lingpa, rather than the Sakya school traditionally favored by the rulers of
Degé.433 This coup, therefore, highlights the sectarian tensions that existed between
previously dominant schools, such as the Sakya in Degé, and others that were ascendant
in the region, such as the Nyingma. This event also provided inspiration for Tsewang
Dorjé Rigzin’s (1786-1847) History of the Kings of Degé, a text that E. Gene Smith has
termed “the first document of the nonsectarian movement.”434 Tsewang Dorjé Rigzin,
the heir to the Degé throne, was twelve at the time of the coup, and it seems likely that
his exposure to sectarian struggle at that time—including the exile of his mother the
queen—influenced his later writings in support of nonsectarianism.
432
Ronis, Celibacy, Revelations and Reincarnated Lamas, 42.
433
Hartley, A Socio-Political History of the Kingdom of Sde-dge, 40.
434
Smith, “The Autobiography of the Rnying ma pa Visionary Mkhan po Ngag dbang dpal bzang,” 25.
225
Sixty years later, a much wider swath of Kham was engulfed by the warlord
Gönpo Namgyel (1799-1865). Originally from Nyakrong, south of Degé, Gönpo
Namgyel began a military expansion of his territory in the early 1860s, conquering Degé
in 1862.435 Gönpo Namgyel took the king and queen of Degé hostage, as well as many
other important political and religious figures, in an attempt to prevent a general
insurrection. In addition to such kidnappings, Gönpo Namgyel’s rule was noted for its
violence and the use of fear and intimidation as weapons. As Tashi Tsering notes,
“Throughout his campaign, his motto was: ‘Kill everybody in sight, so that all that have
ears hear of it,’ thereby creating an image of might and terror.”436
In order to win back their territory from Gönpo Namgyel, the rulers of Degé
requested military assistance from both Lhasa and Beijing. Beijing demurred, but Lhasa
sent a large army under the leadership of Phulungwa (n.d.) that first occupied Degé, and
then, in 1865, defeated Gönpo Namgyel, burning him inside his Nyakrong fortress.437
Following this success, however, the army did not return to Lhasa. Instead, they
remained in Kham, forming an army of occupation, with a governor appointed by the
Lhasa administration.438 In addition to their direct political oversight of much of Kham,
435
Tashi Tsering, “Nag-ron mGon-po rNam-rgyal,” 198.
436
Tashi Tsering, “Nag-ron mGon-po rNam-rgyal,” 204-205.
437
Coleman, “The Uprising at Batang,” 38. Tashi Tsering, “Nag-ron mGon-po rNam-rgyal,” 211.
438
Hartley, A Socio-Political History of the Kingdom of Sde-dge, 16.
226
the occupation is also said to have featured extensive looting, as well as the imposition of
direct taxation for the first time.439
In 1889, building on the broad resentment of Lhasa’s rule, the Nyakrong region
rebelled against the governor.440 The revolt was unsuccessful, but a few years later the
commissioner was recalled to Lhasa under Chinese military pressure.441 Dislike of Lhasa
rule had provided an opportunity for the Qing dynasty to assert control over Kham.442
Following the British invasion of Central Tibet in 1903, however, the Qing decided to
consolidate their defenses by asserting direct control over Kham.443 This led, in 1907, to
a military mission to Degé, under the leadership of Zhao Erfeng.444 Zhao, aided by a
succession struggle in Degé, quickly placed the region under his authority, and exercised
supreme authority until he was recalled in 1911, following the end of the Qing
Dynasty.445
Following the end of the Qing, most of Zhao Erfeng’s reforms disintegrated, and
the region reverted to local rule.446 Conflict continued, however, with frequent
skirmishes between local rulers, Chinese armies, Muslim warlords from the north and
439
Tashi Tsering, “Nag-ron mGon-po rNam-rgyal,” 210. Xiuyu Wang, “Lu Chuanlin's 'Great Game' in
Nyarong,” 481.
440
Xiuyu Wang, “Lu Chuanlin's 'Great Game' in Nyarong,” 482.
441
Xiuyu Wang, “Lu Chuanlin's 'Great Game' in Nyarong,” 484.
442
Xiuyu Wang, “Lu Chuanlin's 'Great Game' in Nyarong,” 485.
443
Sperling, “The Chinese Venture in K’am,” 13-14.
444
Ch: 趙爾豊
445
Sperling, “The Chinese Venture in K’am,” 25-30.
446
Sperling, “The Chinese Venture in K’am,” 30.
227
troops from Lhasa engaging in repeated skirmishes until the region was finally brought
under Communist Chinese authority in 1949.447
The political and military maneuverings of this time were complex, with a variety
of interests at play. Each of these interests saw Kham’s place differently, a point Xiuyu
Wang has articulated nicely, “The potential for conflict arose from conflicting
perceptions: for the Qing, the chieftains functioned as a substratum below the imperial
bureaucracy; in their own eyes, they were autonomous kingdoms; for central Tibet, they
were the Dalai Lama’s subjects.”448 Given the divergence of these visions, perhaps we
should not be surprised at the complexity of the political and military situation during
this period. Indeed, it is worth emphasizing at this point that the preceding account is no
more than a sketch: many important individuals and events have been omitted for the
sake of brevity.
Further, this turbulence was not limited to the political realm, and conflict was
rife among religious institutions as well. We have already seen one early instance of this
in the 1798 coup in Degé. Degé had been a stronghold of the Sakya school, and this
coup has traditionally been attributed to the aversion powerful members of this school felt
towards Queen Tsewang Lhamo’s association with Jigmé Lingpa (1730-1798) and his
disciple Dodrupchen Jigmé Trinlé Özer (1745-1821). While Alex Gardner has recently
cast doubt on this theory, suggesting that this sectarian story was a cover for more
447
Meinert, “Gangkar Rinpoché Between Tibet and China,” 219-220. Tuttle, Tibetan Buddhism in the
Making of Modern China, 172. Jacoby, Consorts and Revelations, 68.
448
Xiuyu Wang, “Lu Chuanlin's 'Great Game' in Nyarong,” 481.
228
prosaically political motives, sectarianism remains a viable excuse.449 As Gardner points
out, “The episode of sectarian clash in [Degé] during the reign of [Tsewang Lhamo]
reveals the delicacy with which the numerous religious institutions coexisted in [Degé],
and the readiness with which their distinctiveness could be turned into political
weapons.”450
Evidence of the continued presence of sectarian conflict during this period can
also be found in Jamgön Kongtrül’s (1813-1899) Autobiography. Kongtrül took his
monastic vows at the age of nineteen, as a Nyingma monk of Shechen Monastery. Less
than a year later, however, a powerful Kagyü lama at Palpung Monastery insisted that
Kongtrül serve as his secretary. Despite protesting that he had already received full
monastic ordination, Kongtrül was instructed to take his monastic vows again, this time
in the Kagyü tradition.451 This episode demonstrates that among the religious elite, there
was considerable sectarian disdain during the eighteen-thirties, to the extent that the
chief lamas of Palpung did not even consider Kongtrül’s Nyingma ordination valid.
Further, the very fact that Palpung was able to induce Kongtrül to come, against his
wishes, indicates the degree to which Nyingma monasteries such as Shechen operated in
the shadow of more powerful institutions.452 Kongtrül went on to be one of the most
important advocates of rimé philosophy, and, as Gene Smith notes, “This small
449
Gardner, Twenty-Five Great Sites, 129-131.
450
Gardner, Twenty-Five Great Sites, 131.
451
‘jam mgon kong sprul blo gros mtha’ yas, Autobiography, 18b-19a. Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Taye,
Autobiography, 22-23.
452
Smith, “'jam mgon Kong sprul and the Nonsectarian Movement,” 247.
229
experience of intolerance seems to have been significant in channeling [Kongtrül’s]
interests toward a nonsectarian approach to Buddhist practice and scholarship.”453
Kongtrül’s Autobiography also mentions another, more violent incident of sectarian
tension from this period. He recalls that in 1848, Ba Chödé Monastery, a Gelukpa
institution located near Batang in Kham, attacked the Nyingma affiliated Pungri
Monastery. As part of the attack, the head incarnate abbot of Pungri, Chagdü Tülku
(n.d.), was killed.454 Sectarian tensions, Kongtrül makes clear, were not limited to
intellectual disdain, but could also become violent.
These sectarian tensions would be further exacerbated by the rise of Gönpo
Namgyel in the early eighteen sixties. As mentioned above, Gönpo Namgyel routinely
took leading religious leaders hostage in order to prevent popular uprisings. These
hostages included representatives of all major schools, though Tashi Tsering has
suggested that two of his favorite lamas were Nyakla Pema Düdül (1816-1873) and the
fourth Dzogchen Tülku, Migyur Namké Dorjé (1793-1870), both Nyingma figures.455
The Lhasa based armies that defeated Gönpo Namgyel, on the other hand,
strongly favored the Geluk school. This led to what Luciano Petech has described as a
“widespread purge of [Nyingma] elements, suspected of collusion with [Gönpo
Namgyel].”456 Kidnapped or not, Nyingma figures’ association with Gönpo Namgyel
453
Smith, “'jam mgon Kong sprul and the Nonsectarian Movement,” 248.
454
‘jam mgon kong sprul blo gros mtha’ yas, Autobiography, 60a. Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Taye,
Autobiography, 67.
455
Tashi Tsering, “Nag-ron mGon-po rNam-rgyal,” 207.
456
Petech, Aristocracy and Government in Tibet, 121.
230
provided the victorious Lhasa army an opportunity to assert the supremacy of the
Gelukpa school over the other schools that had long dominated in Kham. Gene Smith
suggests that there was an element of opportunism in this, “The [Geluk] factions availed
themselves of the presence of the victorious Lhasa army under [Phulungwa] to settle old
scores with the other sects and extract the maximum advantage from their new position
of strength.”457 If Smith’s assertion is true, it suggests that purges of Nyingma elements
was not simply punishment of a defeated military enemy, but a calculated bid to increase
the power of the Geluk at the expense of the Nyingma and other schools.
Nor were the Geluk purges limited to the Nyingma school. Kongtrül recalls that
Palpung Monastery—a Kagyü affiliate—was also threatened by the advancing Lhasa
armies. Fortunately, the commander of one of the Lhasa-affiliated battalions became ill
and summoned Kongtrül, who was reputed to be the best physician in the region. The
commander recovered and Palpung was spared.458 After the abbot of Palpung was freed
from Gönpo Namgyel’s captivity, he thanked Kongtrül for his intervention, declaring, “It
is thanks to your kindness that Palpung and the surrounding countryside were spared.”459
Again, the arrival of Lhasa’s armies spelled trouble not only for Gönpo Namgyel and
local political institutions, but also for non-Geluk monastic institutions.
457
Smith, “'jam mgon Kong sprul and the Nonsectarian Movement,” 249.
458
‘jam mgon kong sprul blo gros mtha’ yas, Autobiography, 106a. Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Taye,
Autobiography, 138-139.
459
‘jam mgon kong sprul blo gros mtha’ yas, Autobiography, 109a. Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Taye,
Autobiography, 142.
231
Such violent sectarian clashes also continued well past Gönpo Namgyel’s era. In
his Biography of Shardza Tashi Gyeltsen, Dratön Kelzang Tenpé Gyeltsen (1897-1959)
recalls a 1902 event in which Buddhist monks burned the Bön affiliated Tengchen
Monastery to the ground.460 Tenpé Gyeltsen’s work does not specify the sectarian
affiliation of the Buddhist monks, but both Tsering Thar, citing a local history, and
William Gorvine, citing oral history, claim that the monks were from a local Gelukpa
monastery.461 Gorvine’s informants specified that the Gelukpa monastery in question,
located downhill from Tengchen, felt affronted when Bön monks would throw ritual
cakes in their direction.462
A final, colorful example of the potential for sectarian strife during this time can
be found in Land of the Lamas, a travelogue by the American diplomat and explorer
William Rockhill. Writing about a journey conducted in 1889, Rockhill writes that
violence was frequent between monasteries in the Degé region. Noting that monastic
robes are ill-suited to riding horses for days on end, Rockhill claims that a necessary precondition for warfare was for the monks to have their shawls converted to trousers. He
asserts that simply hearing that their opponent had taken this step, thereby announcing
their intention to fight, was enough to induce the weaker party to surrender.463 Whatever
the truth of such sartorial claims, we have seen enough examples at this point to conclude
460
dbra ston skal bzang bstan pa’i rgyal mtshan, Biography of Shardza, 233-237.
461
Tsering Thar, “Shar rdza Hermitage,” 157. Gorvine. The Life of a Bönpo Luminary, 175.
462
Gorvine. The Life of a Bönpo Luminary, 175.
463
Rockhill, Land of the Lamas, 216-217.
232
that Rockhill’s fundamental assertion, that warfare between monasteries was a frequent
occurrence, was sound.
Sectarian strife, however, did not always involve violence; conflict over questions
of doctrine and practice was also frequent. Among the most prominent examples of this
is the sustained criticism of terma revelation by some Geluk scholars. As discussed
previously, terma are texts believed to have been composed during Tibet’s Imperial
Period—roughly the seventh through ninth centuries—and then concealed. These texts
are then revealed, much later, by pre-destined individuals, known as tertöns. Such
individuals are generally understood to be the incarnation of Imperial Period
practitioners, with strong karmic connections to the terma text dating to that period.
Terma revelation was particularly important for practitioners of the Nyingma school, for
whom it provided a connection with authoritarian figures of the Imperial Period and
allowed the incorporation of new ideas while maintaining a claim that the texts derived
from Indian sources.464
For other schools, however, the practice of terma revelation offered an
opportunity for critique. In his insightful analysis of one such debate, Mathew Kapstein
notes that for opponents, particularly those aligned with the Geluk school, terma texts
were simply false, made up. Rather than being authentic texts dating to the Imperial
Period, terma were seen as the creations of the tertöns themselves, who then attributed
464
Germano, “Re-membering,” 75.
233
them to earlier figures in a calculated attempt to deceive others.465 Given the importance
of tertöns and terma revelation for the Nyingma school, the falsity of terma and tertöns
was, for some critics, an indictment of the entire school.
Kapstein bases his analysis on a pair of texts, a critique of terma composed in
Central Tibet in the eighteenth century, and a defense composed in Amdo at the turn of
the nineteenth century. While Kapstein is not, therefore, specifically addressing Kham
during the period in question here, his analysis applies broadly to this period as well. I
am not aware of texts specifically critical of terma from this period, but there are multiple
works that actively defend the practice. Mipam Jamyang Namgyel Gyatso (1846-1912),
for instance, one of the greatest Nyingma scholars of all time, composed a strong,
nuanced defense of terma revelation.466 Similarly, the fifteenth Karmapa, Kakyab Dorjé
(1870-1922), while officially associated with the Kagyü school, also composed a defense
of terma revelation.467 Such defenses indicate that terma revelation was a contested
practice, and, given the Geluk school’s longstanding opposition to the practice, a
significant site of sectarian controversy.
Such was the environment that the rimé movement emerged out of. As noted
previously, this movement may have had its origins in the first half of the nineteenth
century.468 It emerged most famously, however, in the later half of that century,
465
Kapstein, “Purificatory Gem.”
466
Doctor, Tibetan Treasure Literature, 52-71.
467
Doctor, Tibetan Treasure Literature, 46.
468
Smith, “The Autobiography of the Rnying ma pa Visionary Mkhan po Ngag dbang dpal bzang,” 25.
234
particularly in the writings of Jamgön Kongtrül, Jamyang Khyentsé Wangpo (1820-1892)
and the tertön Chokgyur Lingpa (1829-1870). These figures consistently advocated
adherence to the practices and theories of one’s own tradition coupled with respect for
other lineages and schools.469 It is worth noting that all of these figures had experienced
the downsides of sectarian rivalry, a fact which surely influenced their later adoption of
the ideology of non-sectarianism. Writing decades later about his forcible conversion
from the Nyingma Shechen Monastery to the Kagyü affiliated Palpung Monastery,
Jamgön Kongtrül recalls his teacher at Shechen Monastery giving him a particular piece
of advice, “don’t be sectarian.”470 As Smith has suggested, this experience seems to have
been formative for Kongtrül, particularly inspiring his later advocacy of a rimé
perspective.
Nor was the rimé movement limited to Kongtrül, Khyentsé, Chokgyur Lingpa
and their circles. Patrül Rinpoché’s (1808-1887) Biography, for instance, recalls that he
received numerous teachings from Gelukpa lamas, as well as those of his own Nyingma
school.471 Similarly, Shardza Tashi Gyeltsen (1859-1935) had numerous collegial
relationships with Buddhist figures of this time, frequently giving Bön teachings to these
figures and receiving Buddhist ones in turn.472 Despite the earlier destruction of
Tengchen monastery at the hands of Gelukpa monks, Shardza’s admirers include at least
469
Ringu Tulku, The Rimé Philospohy of Jamgon Kongtrul, 2.
470
‘jam mgon kong sprul blo gros mtha’ yas, Autobiography, 17a. Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Taye,
Autobiography, 21.
phyogs ris ma byed
471
‘jigs med bstan pa’i nyi ma, Biography of Patrül, 455, 458.
235
one Geluk scholar, whose letters of praise are preserved in Shardza’s Biography.473 The
authors of these biographies explicitly praise Patrül and Shardza for their rimé
perspective, suggesting the importance such ideals carried for their contemporaries.
At the same time, however, it is worth noting that even core figures of the rimé
movement were not necessarily above sectarian tendencies. In an illuminating
dissertation, Alex Gardner has argued that current understandings of the rimé movement
overstate its importance. Gardner focuses his analysis on a text jointly produced by
Chokgyur Lingpa and Jamgön Kongtrül, The Twenty Five Great Sites of Kham. This text,
which Gardner describes as a “narrative map,” is a descriptive list of pilgrimage sites
across Kham.474 The list includes locations sacred to many different schools and lineages,
but pointedly does not include any Geluk sites.475 As we have seen, after the war against
Gönpo Namgyel, Geluk affiliated monasteries and officials in Kham were actively
seeking to bolster their own school at the expense of other traditions. In Gardner’s
analysis, therefore, The Twenty Five Great Sites is an attempt by representatives of the
non-Geluk schools to band together against a common enemy.476 For Gardner, this casts
doubt on the existence of the rimé movement as a discernible movement.477 I do not
want to follow Gardner that far, but his work does serve as a reminder that even figures
472
Gorvine. The Life of a Bönpo Luminary, 187-200.
473
dbra ston skal bzang bstan pa’i rgyal mtshan, Biography of Shardza, 465-466. Gorvine. The Life of a
Bönpo Luminary, 190.
474
Gardner, Twenty-Five Great Sites, 48.
475
Gardner, Twenty-Five Great Sites, 111.
476
Gardner, Twenty-Five Great Sites, 111.
236
such as Kongtrül and Chokgyur Lingpa had not entirely divorced themselves from
sectarianism.
At this point, it should be clear that while many people in nineteenth and early
twentieth century Kham celebrated a rimé ideal, the period also featured consistent
sectarian conflict. In many ways, in fact, the repeated celebration of such an ideal itself
points to the presence of sectarianism. If sectarianism had not been a problem, nonsectarianism would not have been praised. When such religious sectarian rivalry is
combined with the turbulent political environment of the period, it becomes clear that
Kham during this period was a highly unsettled environment. Indeed, for the purposes of
this present dissertation, this is the key insight provided by the preceding discussion:
Kham was a turbulent place, with many different players all vying, sometimes violently,
for power, respect and economic gain.
Questions of Legitimacy
One of the repercussions of this unstable political and religious landscape was a
level of fluidity among the religious hierarchy. Individuals could improve their status,
gaining followers, patrons, and ecclesiastical rank, or their status could decline. In many
ways, an individual’s status depended on their reputation for sanctity, what I refer to as
their religious legitimacy. On the other hand, legitimate religious leaders were contrasted
with charlatans. Düdjom Lingpa (1835-1904) describes such individuals succinctly, “Out
477
Gardner, Twenty-Five Great Sites, 111.
237
of a desire for women, they write down whatever appears in their mind and call
themselves tertöns. Some are lowly and wish to be grand, so they do the same. Others,
depressed and annoyed by being poor, do likewise.”478
As Düdjom’s complaint indicates, while some individuals pursued religious
careers out of a desire to benefit others through Buddhism, others pursued the same
career out of a desire for women, political power, and money. In order to be successful, a
prospective lama had to convince those around him that he was a legitimate practitioner
rather than a charlatan. The sense of legitimacy that separated these groups was
governed by a wide variety of factors, and there were many strategies that individuals
pursued in an attempt to influence their legitimacy. Among these was vegetarianism.
Perhaps the clearest window into the strategies governing legitimacy can be found
in the debates over tertöns and terma revelation, both collectively and as individuals. As
noted above, the critique and defense of terma revelation was an important aspect of
sectarian debate in nineteenth and early twentieth century Kham. At the same time,
however, it is important to note that even within the Nyingma school, where terma
revelation was widely accepted as possible, there was active debate over the legitimacy of
individual tertöns. Simply claiming to have revealed a terma was not sufficient to
guarantee the text’s acceptance as authentic.
478
bdud ‘joms gling pa, Auotbiography, 186. Düdjom Lingpa, Clear Mirror, 138.
bud med la chags nas gter ston yin skad de sems la gang dran yi ger bri 'dug gi /la las ni kho dman pa mtho la
brkam nas de ltar byed 'dug gi /la las ni dbul phongs la bred cing sun nas de ltar byed 'dug gi
238
Düdjom Lingpa notes that fear of fraudulent tertöns was widespread, and the fear
of such charlatans caused people to be deeply suspicious of anyone who claimed to be a
tertön, even, he claims, legitimate tertön such as himself.479 At the same time, Düdjom’s
account also demonstrates that such concerns could be overcome through the
implementation of strategies devised to demonstrate the legitimacy of a terma, and by
extension, a tertön. For prospective tertöns, the stakes were high: acclaim as a tertön
could bring a significant boost to one’s status, power and financial resources. For
students, however, the stakes were also high, for while legitimate termas carried the
promise of religious attainment, fraudulent ones did not.480
In looking at this process of legitimation, it is useful to begin with The Gem that
Clears the Waters, Mipam’s short defense of terma revelation, recently analyzed by
Andreas Doctor. Along with its defense of the terma process in general, this work
highlights the problem of fraudulent terma revelation. Mipam describes a society deeply
and justifiably skeptical of terma revelation, suggesting that fraudulent terma revelation
must have been a common problem in late nineteenth century Kham.481 In Mipam’s
view, such charlatans caused problems not only for their immediate followers, but also for
the entire Nyingma school by providing ammunition to critics of the terma system in its
entirety.
479
bdud ‘joms gling pa, Auotbiography, 108-110, 187-189. Düdjom Lingpa, Clear Mirror, 83-84, 139-140.
480
Doctor, Tibetan Treasure Literature, 52-71.
481
Doctor, Tibetan Treasure Literature, 52-55.
239
Following this critique of fraudulent tertöns, Mipam turns his attention to the
process of distinguishing such individuals from legitimate tertöns. He highlights
strategies used by frauds, such as including the names of wealthy individuals in lists of
‘pre-destined’ patrons, claiming that beautiful women are destined consorts and
vehemently denouncing others as frauds.482 Mipam’s list seems to suggest that the
presence of such strategies can suggest the individual in question is a charlatan. That
said, Mipam is aware that some legitimate tertöns have behaved bizarrely, demonstrating
that such behavior is insufficient to guarantee that someone is a fraud. Ultimately,
Mipam claims, the only way to be certain about a tertön’s legitimacy is to ask someone
with high levels of spiritual realization.483 In the ultimate analysis, therefore, while a
prospective tertön’s behavior is important, they can only be fully legitimated by another
senior lama, whose spiritual realization gives them insight into the individual’s mental
state.
In a recent analysis of the early career of Chokgyur Lingpa, Alex Gardner has
called attention to the key role that such authentication can play in enhancing a potential
tertön’s legitimacy. Chokgyur Lingpa went on to become one of the most important
tertöns of nineteenth century Kham, but his initial termas were greeted with skepticism.
In a move that Gardner argues was a conscious attempt to acquire legitimacy, he travelled
to the Degé region seeking recognition from established figures.484 He was eventually
482
Doctor, Tibetan Treasure Literature, 66-67.
483
Doctor, Tibetan Treasure Literature, 70-71.
484
Gardner, Twenty-Five Great Sites, 23.
240
successful in this effort, earning the praise and cooperation of Jamgön Kongtrül and
Jamyang Khyentsé Wangpo, two of the most important figures of this period. With the
imprimatur of these figures, Chokgyur Lingpa was able to return to his native region
with a significantly enhanced aura of legitimacy.
Düdjom Lingpa’s autobiography recalls a similar reliance on the patronage of
established religious leaders. In one telling passage, he recalls a patron commenting,
“There are many people these days who claim to be tertöns or accomplished practitioners,
so I don't have faith and trust in everyone. But Jawa Alak said that you, [Düdjom
Lingpa] are an accomplished practitioner. Further, he said, ‘If he's not an emanation of
Padmasambhava, then I've lied to you!’ Once he said that, I invited you.”485 For this
individual, and we may assume many others, the approval of other leaders was an
important means of separating legitimate tertöns from charlatans.
As both Gardner and Doctor make clear, however, prospective tertöns needed
more than just the support of other lamas to achieve legitimacy.486 Ultimately, they
conclude, legitimacy rests with popular perception and acclaim. The intervention and
support of lamas already known for their realization is an important strategy for forming
this public opinion, but is not, in and of itself necessarily decisive. Thus, in Gardner’s
analysis, Chokgyur Lingpa could not rest with obtaining Jamgön Kongtrül and Khyentsé
485
bdud ‘joms gling pa, Auotbiography, 109. Düdjom Lingpa, Clear Mirror, 83.
dus phyis gter ston dang grub thob yin par skad pa shin tu mang bas su la'ang yid ches blo thub med kyang 'ja' ba a
lags nas khyod kyis rgis li'i gter ston de la sgrub pa zhig 'don du chug dang de o rgyan padma'i sprul pa zhig min
tshe ngas khyod bslus pa yin gsungs pas de la nyan nas ng rang khyod 'bod du 'ong ba yin zer ba byung bas/
486
Gardner, Twenty-Five Great Sites, 48. Doctor, Tibetan Treasure Literature, 49.
241
Wangpo’s approval. Instead, he revealed a series of termas that described the sacred
nature of geographical features across Kham. By providing these sacralizing narratives,
Chokgyur Lingpa was able to bind his own status to the newly sacralized landscape.487
As pilgrims began to visit, the fame of these sites spread, and Chokgyur Lingpa became
increasingly well established.
Düdjom Lingpa’s Autobiography reveals another strategy for generating legitimacy:
the effective performance of miracles and other superhuman religious feats. Throughout
this work, Düdjom recalls using magic to effectively sideline opponents. This can be
applied to personal enemies or detractors, but he also performs magic on behalf of
patrons.488 In at least one instance, Düdjom specifically links his successful performance
of magical rites with his legitimacy, “There was a female minister in Golok who had
opposed me. She went blind, her commands became powerless and then she died. Thus,
my terma guardian deities were [shown to be] without rival.”489 In this instance, at least,
the legitimacy of Düdjom’s termas was explicitly linked to his ability to effectively
perform magical rites.
The strategies outlined here—all connected to the debates over terma
revelations—are not the only avenues available for demonstrating the legitimacy of an
individual’s claim to high religious status. Other strategies were available to a wider
487
Gardner, Twenty-Five Great Sites.
488
bdud ‘joms gling pa, Auotbiography, 111-112, 190. Düdjom Lingpa, Clear Mirror, 85, 141-142.
489
bdud ‘joms gling pa, Auotbiography, 190. Düdjom Lingpa, Clear Mirror, 142.
bdag gi 'gal zla mgo log phyogs kyi dpon mo drag shos zhig yod pa'ang mig long zhig khas zhan du song nas shi/ de
ltar nga'i gter byung gi srung ma rnams ni gzhan gis 'gran zla dang bral ba yin/
242
audience, including those who made no claim to reveal termas. Among the most
important of these was scholarship, the practice of studying and commenting on
Buddhist philosophical texts.
Scholarship has long been an important aspect of Tibetan religious practice, and
many scholastic texts and commentaries have been composed in Tibetan. Large monastic
institutions often specialized in such studies and awarded degrees, such as the geshé or
khenpo degrees, to those who successfully completed many years of study.490 The receipt
of such a degree was a clear acknowledgement of scholarly skill and conferred a
significant amount of legitimacy on the bearer. Skill and perseverance in scholarship,
therefore, often made it is possible for an ordinary monk to rise rapidly through
ecclesiastical ranks.
While scholarship has a long history in Tibetan Buddhist practice, its relative
importance in specific regions has waxed and waned. As Jann Ronis has noted,
scholarship was relatively unimportant in Kham prior to the mid-eighteenth century.491
This began to change, however, under the leadership of figures such as Situ Panchen
(1700-1774) in the mid-eighteenth century and Getsé Mahapaṇḍita (1761-1829) in the
late eighteenth and early nineteenth.492
490
Tib: dge shes; mkhan po
For a study of this process, based on first-person experience in a contemporary Tibetan monastery in India,
see: Dreyfus, Two Hands Clapping.
491
492
Ronis, Celibacy, Revelations and Reincarnated Lamas, 55.
Ronis, Celibacy, Revelations and Reincarnated Lamas, 146-186.
The Tibetan term panchen and Sanskrit term mahapaṇḍita both mean ‘great scholar.’ The presence of these
titles in these figurers’ popular names suggests the importance they placed on scholarship.
243
A good example of this way in which scholarship could result in ecclesiastical
advancement can be seen in the experiences of Jamgön Kongtrül, who first rose to
prominence for his academic skills. As noted above, his scholastic skills were good
enough that Palpung Monastery requisitioned his services from Shechen Monastery. He
was recognized as the incarnation of a previous master, granting him significant
legitimacy. This recognition, however, took place after he had already become known for
his scholarly abilities, so was not a factor in his initial rise.493
Scholarship could also be a means of combating sectarianism. Gene Smith has
noted, for instance, that Mipam, the most famous Nyingma scholar of the nineteenth
and twentieth century, carried on correspondence with several scholars from the rival
Geluk sect.494 These individuals did not always agree, but many—though not all—
respected Mipam for his scholarship, suggesting ways in which philosophical scholarship
could cut across the sectarian tensions of this time.495
Along with the rise of scholasticism, the importance of monastic ordination and
celibacy also rose during this period. Ronis notes that prior to the eighteenth century,
many of the most important religious leaders of the Nyingma school was focused on
terma revelation and the non-celibate lifestyles typical of tertöns.496 Celibate monasticism
existed during this period, but elite practitioners were frequently non-celibate mantrins.
493
‘jam mgon kong sprul blo gros mtha’ yas, Autobiography, 19a-19b. Jamgon Kongtrul Lodro Taye,
Autobiography, 23.
494
Smith, “Mi pham,” 231-233.
495
Smith, “Mi pham,” 233.
496
Ronis, Celibacy, Revelations and Reincarnated Lamas, 55.
244
By the middle of the eighteenth century, however, this situation was changing.
Celibate monasticism was emerging as a popular option for elite religious leaders. Ronis
locates the impetus for this shift in the efforts of Situ Panchen. Situ actively promoted
monasticism, personally ordaining more than a thousand monks, and writing customaries
that mandated celibacy among the monastic population.497 While personally associated
with the Kagyü school, Situ Panchen’s efforts profoundly impacted Nyingma monasteries
as well.
By the mid-nineteenth century, the shift towards monasticism was complemented
by the spread of the Geluk into Kham. As we saw, Geluk missionary activity increased
dramatically following the conclusion of the war against Gönpo Namgyel. This
missionary activity included critiquing other schools—particularly the Nyingma—for
their lax attention to monastic rules. It seems likely that such criticisms would have
supported and accelerated the shift towards monasticism initially begun by Situ Panchen.
One interesting way to approach this shift and its role in developing individuals’
legitimacy, is through a comparison of autobiographical recollections of childhood.
Many Tibetan autobiographies contain recollections of precocious, religiously inclined
childhoods. The Autobiography of the tertön Chokgyur Lingpa, for instance, recalls
several instances where he had visions of Padmasambhava and other divine figures.498
For more on the association between terma revelation and non-celibate status, see: Jacoby, Consorts and
Revelations.
497
Ronis, Celibacy, Revelations and Reincarnated Lamas, 146-162.
498
mchog gyur gling pa, Autobiography, 181.
245
This is a common motif in the autobiographies of tertöns, and serves to legitimate their
identity as tertöns.
In contrast, Getsé Mahapaṇḍita’s Autobiography spends several lines recalling a
childhood dominated by ethical conduct and a desire to dress up like a monk.499 Getsé’s
motivation here is similar to Chokgyur Lingpa’s: he is calling attention to his innately
religious nature. The difference is that Getsé invokes an inclination to monasticism,
rather than visions of Padmasambhava, as proof of his legitimacy. Thus, by the early
nineteenth century, upholding a celibate, monastic lifestyle had become an effective
strategy for demonstrating the sincerity and legitimacy of one’s religious vocation. This is
not to say that non-celibate practice disappeared. We have already encountered several
individuals from the late nineteenth century, such as Chokgyur Lingpa, who maintained
the non-celibate lifestyle of a mantrin. Celibate monasticism, however, had become an
important alternative, capable of conferring legitimacy.
Finally, and aligning well with the increasing importance of monasticism, a
demonstrated commitment to moral conduct could provide individuals with significant
levels of legitimacy. As we have just seen, monasticism was becoming increasingly
important during this time, and moral standards generally aligned with this shift. Thus,
there was a sense that it was appropriate for those who claimed to be religious figures to
abide by conventional norms of Buddhist morality. By doing so, they displayed their
499
dge rtse 'gyur med tshe dbang mchog grub, Autobiography, 166. Ronis, Celibacy, Revelations and
Reincarnated Lamas, 169.
246
concern for proper conduct and their commitment to a Buddhist lifestyle. This, in turn,
was a powerful argument for their religious legitimacy.
Evidence for the importance of moral conduct in establishing an individual’s
legitimacy can be found in popular texts such as The Words of My Perfect Teacher. We
have already examined this text’s anti-meat stance in some detail, but here it is worth
noting the way in which Patrül repeatedly critiques lamas who fail to abide by norms of
moral conduct. As we have seen, he critiques those who eat meat, proclaiming that they
are all bound for hell.500 Beyond this, he also denigrates monks who engage in business,
in contravention of their vows, “These days, lamas and monks don’t see anything wrong
with doing business. They wrap their lives around it, and are proud of their skill. But
nothing wastes a monk’s mind more than business.”501 In Patrül’s eyes, anyone who
engages in such conduct is only pretending to be a monk. If such negative conduct is
proof of charlatanism, then the inverse should be true as well, and the adherence to moral
standards should be understood as a sign of religious legitimacy.
Nor is such sentiment limited to Patrül. As we have discussed previously, Tülku
Urgyen Rinpoché’s (1920-1996) high opinion of Karmé Khenpo (1835-19th/20th c.),
Samten Gyatso (1881-1945) and Sangngak Rinpoché (19th-20th C) was largely due to
their strict monastic conduct, which he compares favorably to the “half-hearted
500
dpal sprul o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 103. Patrül Rinpoché,
The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 70.
501
dpal sprul o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 161. Patrül Rinpoché,
The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 105.
247
renunciants” he felt were common.502 For Tülku Urgyen, moral conduct was a sign of
these figures’ authenticity as religious leaders, while the poor conduct of others was a sign
of their lack of religious discipline.
Similarly, Dilgo Khyentsé (1910-1991) often remarks on the moral conduct of his
teachers. In a representative example, he describes one of his early teachers:
Khenpo Tubten’s physical, verbal, and mental conduct was entirely
according to Dharma. His discipline was extremely precise; during
meals he didn’t speak, while chanting he remained silent, and when he
was free, he never wasted a moment—he did nothing but read, write,
teach or study the Dharma. He didn’t hoard anything at all and just
kept the bare necessities for clothes and provisions, using everything
else for making offerings and benefiting whomever he encountered.503
Once again, moral conduct—in line with monastic norms—is held up as proof
that an individual’s religious activities are genuine.
There is also evidence that lamas of this time were aware of the powerful effect
ethical conduct had on the opinions of others. Jigmé Lingpa, for instance, ask his
disciples to, “Stay humble. Be harmonious with all. Wear tattered clothes. … By
appearing in this way, tamed more fully than Yülkor Sung, the king of swans, others will
khyad par deng sang gi skabs su bla ma dang ser mo ba rnams nas kyang tshong byed pa la nyes pa’am skyon du mi
lta zhing sku tshe de la bsgril nas pho rgod por rlom par ‘dug kyang/ bla ma ser mo ba zhig gi rgyud chud zos byed
pa la tshong las thu ba gang yang med de/
502
Tülku Urgyen, Blazing Splendor, 198.
503
Dilgo Khyentse, Brilliant Moon, 62.
248
perceive you as virtuous.”504 For Jigmé Lingpa, appearing humble and kind were
important, at least in part, because they could convince others that you were a virtuous
lama.
Shabkar (1781-1851) recalls a time when several Geluk scholars were discussing
why he was able to draw such large crowds to his teachings. One suggested that he must
be performing rituals to gather students, but another counters that such rituals could not
account for the sheer number of Shabkar’s students. Finally, a third lama concludes,
“However one looks, there is nothing wrong with his conduct, so whatever [the reason
for his success], don’t criticize him.”505 In Shabkar’s understanding, his moral conduct
insulated him from criticism and contributed to his reputation for legitimacy, which, in
turn, drew large crowds to his teachings.
As we have noted, neither Jigmé Lingpa nor Shabkar lived in Kham. Their
sentiments, however, are echoed in works more directly connected to that region.
Khenpo Künpel, for instance, notes that, “If Bodhisattvas do not guard against [doing
things that give rise to] a lack of faith in others, they will be the cause of others' nonvirtue.”506 Khenpo Künpel follows this statement with a list of uncouth activities to be
avoided, such as spitting on the temple floor. Finally, he concludes, “In summary, actions
504
‘jigs med gling pa, Ocean of Wondrous Advice, 707. Rigdzin Jigme Lingpa, Wondrous Ocean of Advice, 6.
dma' mo'i sa bzung/ kun dang mthun par bya/ hrul po'i gos gyon/ … ltar snang ngang pa'i rgyal po yul 'khor srung
las kyang dul bas gzhan snang dge la 'gyur nus pa zhig dgos/
505
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol, Autobiography, 410b. Shabkar, Life of Shabkar, 468.
khong gi mdzad pa gang la bltas kyang skyon 'o dgas zhig mi gda'/ gang ltar na'ang khas gtong rgyu zhig ma red
zer skad/
506
kun bzang dpal ldan, Words of my Gentle Lama, 335. Kunzang Pelden, Nectar of Manjushri’s Speech, 192.
byang chub sems dpa' gzhan gyis ma dad pa ma bsrung na gzhan gyi sdig rkyen chen por 'gyur ba
249
that are derided by other, worldly people and that provoke a loss of faith should all be
abandoned. This applies if you have seen and known of the activity yourself, or if you did
not know yourself, but have been told by knowledgeable people.”507 For Khenpo Künpel,
one’s actions can powerfully influence the perception of others, and locally appropriate
conduct must be maintained, lest it provoke a loss of faith in others.
In contrast to this emphasis on conventional moral conduct, there is relatively
little emphasis during this period on ‘wild’ or ‘crazy’ behavior. Such conduct, based on a
literal reading of some tantric texts, can include such transgressive acts as eating feces,
insulting religious leaders and uninhibited sexuality. Recently, David DiValerio has
demonstrated that such conduct, because of its perceived connections with Indian tantric
models, serve as a sign of legitimacy. That is, by acting crazy, some individuals were able
to align themselves with models of tantric transgression, successfully legitimating their
status as religious leaders.508
While this may be true in sixteenth century Central Tibet—the time and place
that DiValerio focuses on—there is less evidence that such a strategy worked in Kham
during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. There were individual religious leaders
who adopted a crazy lifestyle, with Do Khyentsé (1800-1859) being perhaps the most
famous example. While many stories are told celebrating Do Khyentsé’s antinomian
507
kun bzang dpal ldan, Words of my Gentle Lama, 336. Kunzang Pelden, Nectar of Manjushri’s Speech, 192.
mdor na 'jig rten sems can gzhan rnams kyis 'phya zhing ma dad par gyur pa'i spyod pa kun rang gis mthong zhing
shes pa rnams dang rang gi ma mthong zhing mi shes pa rnams kyang gang zag gzhan mkhas pa dang rgyus yod
rnams la dris te spang bar 'u dgos so/
508
DiValerio, Subversive Sainthood.
250
behavior, they is usually an apology, explaining why this behavior is acceptable.509 Rather
than being a sign of legitimacy, behavior such as this needs to be explained away.
A similar concern for establishing the moral bona fides of the mantrin lifestyle is
also reflected in a short polemical work written by Do Khyentsé, Babble of a Foolish
Man.510 This text is structured as a dialogue between a monk and an old mantrin, and
opens with the monk challenging the validity of the mantrins teachings. Not surprising,
given that it was written by Do Khyentsé, the monk is impressed by the mantrin’s
answers, and quickly develops faith.511 Ultimately, Do Khyentsé argues, the mantrin’s
superior meditative practice win over the monk’s dry scholasticism. The superiority of
these practices, however, is not enough to justify the lifestyle of a mantrin: Do Khyentsé
also takes the time to defend the moral conduct of mantrins, arguing that they adhere to
the rule of “authentic lay practitioners.”512 These rules were laid out by the Buddha, and
are meant to govern the conduct of all Buddhists, both lay and monastic. Do Khyentsé,
it seems, is aware of popular concern over the conduct of mantrins, and seeks to allay
these concerns by associating mantrins with an easily recognizable, Buddhistic moral
code.
That said, Do Khyentsé himself remains well known for his sometimes bizarre
behavior, proving that individuals could achieve renown without prioritizing ethical,
509
Tülku Thondup, Masters of Meditation and Miracles, 179-197. Surya Das, Snow Lion’s Turquoise Mane,
20, 136.
510
gzhon nu ye shes rdo rje, Babble. Gayley, “Yogic Trimphalism.”
511
gzhon nu ye shes rdo rje, Babble, 71.
512
gzhon nu ye shes rdo rje, Babble, 71.
251
monastic-style conduct. As Doctor notes, Tibetan lamas sometimes behave in
antinomian ways, but are still considered legitimate.513 As part of a broader collection of
strategies, however, including the authorization of high lamas, scholarship, and the ability
to perform miracles, moral conduct was one way that potential patrons could evaluate the
legitimacy of a lama’s claim to religious authority.
Vegetarianism & Legitimacy
Within this context, vegetarianism was a powerful argument for legitimacy.
Monasticism was becoming increasingly important, and, as we saw in the last chapter,
vegetarianism was strongly connected to the practice of celibate monasticism. Further,
several of the most important religious leaders of this period adopted vegetarianism,
giving the practice a level of prominence and authority. Adopting vegetarianism,
therefore, was a way for individuals to demonstrate, in a public way, the sincerity of their
religious practice.
We have just discussed, perhaps excessively, the increasing importance of
monasticism in Kham from the eighteenth century on. For our purposes, this is
important because it points to the increasing importance of those aspects of Buddhist
practice that are associated with monasticism. Practices such as celibacy, scholarship and
the observance of conventional moral conduct had become standard aspects of religious
yang dag dge bsnyen
513
Doctor, Tibetan Treasure Literature, 48.
252
practice. Vegetarianism was another such practice, strongly connected to monasticism
and capable of demonstrating the legitimacy of an individual’s religious practice.
The connections between vegetarianism and monasticism have been discussed at
length in the previous chapter of this dissertation, so I will limit myself to a brief
summary here. Monasticism, at least in large part, was centered on the rejection of those
aspects of conventional life understood to be opposed to religious attainment. Many of
these aspects, meanwhile, were connected to worldly aspects of ideal masculinity, such as
the fathering of progeny and the dominance over animals inherent in hunting.
Vegetarianism, as a rejection of such masculine ideals as strength and domination,
aligned well with broader conceptions of monastic ideals. And yet vegetarianism is not
mandated by the Vinaya, as celibacy is, being instead more properly associated with the
Bodhisattva vow.
In many ways, therefore, vegetarianism became a practice of monasticism in its
idealized form, where adherence to the higher ideals of the Bodhisattva vow trumped the
legalities of the Vinaya. It is worth remembering that vegetarianism was assumed to have
negative health consequences, and that it was never expected of religious leaders.
Adopting vegetarianism, therefore, meant going above and beyond the expected monastic
norms and putting one’s health at risk, all in the pursuit of a compassionate ideal. Thus,
adopting vegetarianism displayed a strong argument for the legitimacy of an individual’s
religious vocation. This was particularly true in the competitive religious landscape of
nineteenth and twentieth century Kham, where monasticism was idealized.
253
Vegetarianism, strongly connected to the monastic ideals so important during this time,
was a powerful strategy for doing so.
One question this leaves us with, however, is the place of those non-celibate
mantrins who adopted vegetarianism. Nineteenth and twentieth century Kham, after all,
is perhaps the only time in Tibetan history when vegetarianism was widely adopted by
mantrins as well as monks. Non-celibate figures such as Nyakla Pema Düdül and Sera
Khandro (1892-1940) adopted vegetarianism, and Nyakla Pema Düdül composed a text
encouraging it among his students as well.
Not surprisingly, this text makes no mention of monastic vows, or monasticism at
all. The text is presented as a dialogue with Avalokiteśvara, the Bodhisattva of
compassion, and Nyakla Pema Düdül centers his arguments squarely on the ideal of
compassion.514 In the previous chapter, we looked at some of the reasons why
vegetarianism was so persistently associated with monasticism, noting monasticism’s
general association with the ethical discourse typical of tamed religion, and in contrast to
the power-based discourses typical of untamed religion. Mantrins, as we saw, occupied
something of an ambiguous position in this equation, adhering to normative Buddhist
ideals, but also somewhat separated from those ideals by their non-celibate status. What
we see in Nyakla Pema Düdül’s work on vegetarianism is a decided appeal to the tamed
side of this debate. Thus, even though Nyakla Pema Düdül was not a monk, the ideals
he appeals to are those most closely associated with monasticism. For Nyakla Pema
514
nyag bla padma bdud ‘dul, Advice. Nyala Pema Duddul, “Song of Advice.”
254
Düdül and, presumably, other mantrins like him, such monastic-affiliated ideals had
become an important aspect of religious practice, fostering the rise of vegetarianism in
this community not previously disposed to the practice.
Vegetarianism was further supported through its association with some of the
most important lamas of this period. Foremost among these was Jigmé Lingpa. As
discussed previously, it is unclear if Jigmé Lingpa was himself a vegetarian. Whatever the
particulars of his own diet, Jigmé Lingpa argued strongly and repeatedly against the
consumption of meat. Further, as Khenpo Ngakchung’s (1879-1941) Guide to The Words
of My Perfect Teacher demonstrates, there is evidence that Jigmé Lingpa was particularly
known for his attitude towards animals.515
Further, even though Jigmé Lingpa himself never visited the region, his terma
revelation known as The Heart-Essence of the Great Expanse became one of the most
important practice lineages in Kham, thanks to the efforts of his disciples Dodrupchen Jigmé
Trinlé Özer and Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu (1765-1842). Nyoshül Khenpo’s recent history of
Jigmé Lingpa’s lineage, in fact, notes no less than one hundred and thirty lamas who actively
propagated The Heart-Essence of the Great Expanse, most of whom were active in Kham at
some point during the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.516 While Jigmé Lingpa belonged
to the Nyingma school, and his direct impact was largely limited to that community, his
515
ngag dbang dpal bzang, Notes on The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 214. Khenpo Ngawang Pelzang,
Guide to The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 148.
516
smyo shil mkhan po, Garland of Rare Gems. Nyoshul Khenpo Jamyang Dorjé, Marvelous Garland of Rare
Gems.
255
Autobiography also records several positive interactions with leaders of other sects, suggesting
that his work was known and respected beyond the confines of his own school.517
Jigmé Lingpa’s disciple Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu also provided an important example
in support of vegetarianism during this period. Unlike Jigmé Lingpa, Jigmé Gyelwé
Nyügu’s personal vegetarianism is well attested, in both his own Biography and Khenpo
Ngakchung’s later recollections.518 Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu’s opposition to meat was also
recorded in Patrül’s The Words of My Perfect Teacher, making certain that his stance on
vegetarianism was well known.
Between these individuals and later figures, there were plenty of examples of
vegetarianism among the highest echelons of religious practice in Kham. The presence of
such exemplars could not fail to have given the diet a significant boost. It is particularly
notable that Jigmé Lingpa was a mantrin, providing further impetus for the adoption of
vegetarianism among this community.
Such examples are particularly powerful in the Tibetan context because of Tibetan
Buddhism’s strong emphasis on devotion towards the lama. According to Jamgön
Kongtrül’s encyclopedic Treasury of Knowledge, once a particular lama has been accepted
as your teacher, he should be regarded as equivalent to the Buddha himself.519 For
someone with this type of devotion, everything the lama does and says models the
Buddhist path. By following a teacher in this way, Kongtrül claims, “Our qualities
517
‘jigs med gling pa, Autobiography, 391, 445.
518
Anonymous, Biography of Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu, 69-70. ngag dbang dpal bzang, Autobiography, 79-80.
256
become higher and higher and we accomplish all temporary and ultimate objectives.”520
Similarly, and in an indication that such ideas are widespread across the various schools
of Tibetan Buddhism, Tsongkhapa (1357-1419) claims that, “the root of the supreme
and common accomplishments is found in properly serving a spiritual master.”521
Thus, lamas were not simply looked to for explanations of Buddhist thought, they
were models of the path, and great importance was placed on disciples’ correct
interpretation of their conduct, though this does not mean that disciples felt they should
emulate every aspect of their teachers’ conduct. Disciples of tertöns, for instance, would
not necessarily have felt that they needed to reveal termas as well. For more prosaic
issues of conduct and practice, however, lamas were powerful exemplars of proper
conduct for their students. Further, this attitude is not limited to one’s immediate
teacher, but is extended towards the entire lineage. Thus, a student in Jigmé Lingpa’s
lineage might look back to him as a model, even though he had died a century earlier.
Vegetarianism was not only a way to adhere to ideal conduct, it also provided a way to
follow in the conduct of some of the most esteemed religious leaders of this period.
Vegetarianism, therefore, had the ability to be a powerful means for
demonstrating an individual’s legitimacy as a religious leader. There is also evidence that
519
‘jam mgon kong sprul blo gros mtha’ yas, Treasury of Knowledge, 313. Jamgon Kongtrül, Buddhist Ethics,
60.
520
‘jam mgon kong sprul blo gros mtha’ yas, Treasury of Knowledge, 313. Jamgon Kongtrül, Buddhist Ethics,
60.
yon tan gyi tshogs kyis je mtho je mthor 'gyur zhing gnas skabs dang mthar thug gi don thams cad 'grub par gsungs
pa
521
tsong kha pa, Commentary on the Fifty Verses, 322. Tsongkhapa, The Fulfillment of All Hopes, 29.
mchog dang thun mong gi dngos grub kyi rtsa ba ni bshes gnyen dam pa tshul bzhin du bsten pa nyid la rag las pa
257
vegetarianism not only had the ability to confer legitimacy, but actually functioned this
way in practice. In this context, it is worth returning once again to Tülku Urgyen’s
memoirs. As we have seen, he praises his teachers for their vegetarianism, holding this
diet up, along with teetotaling and strict celibacy—as proof of their status as genuine
monks, in opposition to the “half-hearted renunciant so common nowadays.”522
Perhaps the most explicit indication that vegetarianism can serve to legitimate a
lama comes from an interview I conduced with a young monk in Degé. In the course of a
long discussion of his own vegetarianism, he remarked, “If I meet a lama who is
vegetarian, then I know he is a good lama.” For this young monk, vegetarianism served
as a sign that a lama upheld Buddhist principles and was, therefore, “a good lama.”
While this quote is from the contemporary period, it neatly encapsulates the way
vegetarianism can serve to legitimate a lama in the eyes of potential students and patrons.
It is worth noting that almost all of the vegetarians mentioned so far in this
chapter were affiliated with the Nyingma school, including Jigmé Lingpa, Jigmé Gyelwé
Nyügu, Nyakla Pema Düdül, Khenpo Ngakchung and Sera Khandro. The
predominance of Nyingma voices here reflects an important facet of vegetarianism during
this period: its popularity began among the Nyingma school, and it remained strongest
among Nyingma practitioners straight through the nineteen fifties.523 This suggests that
vegetarianism’s impact on legitimacy may have extended beyond individuals to impact
entire sectarian debates.
522
Tülku Urgyen, Blazing Splendor, 198.
258
In many ways, vegetarianism was well situated to play a role in these debates. As
noted above, the Nyingma were routinely critiqued by Geluk sympathizers for their
allegedly immoral conduct, chiefly the lack of attention to rules of celibacy and other
monastic regulations. As a practice with strong connection to ideal monastic practice,
vegetarianism would have been well situated to counter these complaints. In the previous
chapter, we saw that vegetarianism draws primarily on the Bodhisattva vow, rather than
the Vinaya per se. As such, it was an expression of a superior form of monasticism. In
the context of nineteenth and twentieth century Kham, the prominence of vegetarianism
among Nyingma practitioners would have proclaimed the sect’s adherence to ideals of
monastic conduct, even if the individuals involved were not actually celibate monastics.
Thus, vegetarianism could provide an effective counter to critiques coming from
members of the Geluk school.
In addition to the Nyingma, Bön elements were also singled out for criticism.
The Geluk scholar Pabongkha (1878-1941), for instance, includes several pages of antiBön polemic in his Liberation in the Palm of Your Hand. In these critiques, Bön is
disparaged, first and foremost because of its non-Buddhist status. At the same time,
however, Pabongkha also critiques Bön for unethical conduct and insufficient attention
to monastic norms.524 As the recipient of ethically based sectarian critique, Bön was, in
523
524
This remains the case in contemporary Kham, though the circumstances are significantly different.
pha bong kha pa bde chen snying po, Liberation in the Hand, 432-433. Pabongkha Rinpoche, Liberation
in the Palm, 372.
Pabongkha Rinpoché was based in Central Tibet, though his prominent position within the Geluk school
and at least one year-long teaching trip to Kham suggests that his work was well known there. (byams pa
chos grags, 390-394. Samten Chhosphel)
259
many ways, in a similar position to the Nyingma school. At this point, it is perhaps
worth remembering that these sectarian critiques could blossom into physical violence, as
seen in the destruction of the Bön affiliated Tengchen Monastery at the hands of local
Geluk monks who were, apparently, offended by the temerity of their Bön neighbors
throwing ritual cakes in their direction.
It should not be surprising, therefore, that vegetarianism seems to have been fairly
widespread among Bön practitioners of this period. Shardza Tashi Gyeltsen is the most
prominent representative, but both textual sources such as The History of the Makser Bön
Lineage and oral history suggest that vegetarianism was relatively widespread among Bön
lamas of the early twentieth century.525 As with its Nyingma adherents, vegetarianism’s
prominence among Bön practitioners would fit well as a response to Geluk critiques.
As we saw in the first chapter of this dissertation, however, vegetarianism during
this period was not limited to the Nyingma and Bön, with prominent representatives of
both the Kagyü and Sakya school adopting the diet. These schools were not singled out
for critique by the Geluk quite as strongly as the Nyingma and Bön, however, and so it
would fit the pattern outlined here to note that vegetarianism, while present, seems to
have been less widespread among these schools.
Where we do not find a single example of vegetarianism is in the Geluk school. I
can only assume that there were some representatives of the Geluk school who adopted
vegetarianism during this time, but I have not been able to identify any. This lacunae
525
'jam dpal dpa' bo rdo rje rtsal, History of Makser Bön Lineage.
260
may be a fluke: I may simply not have been looking in the right places.526 In the context
of our present discussion, however, it is hard not to notice that a lack of emphasis on
vegetarianism among the Geluk fits well within the picture of sectarian critique and
response outlined here. It is practitioners of the Geluk, after all, who are critiquing
Nyingma and Bön adherents for not adhering to monastic norms. Vegetarianism works
well as a response to this but may have been less necessary for those already claiming the
moral high ground of celibate monasticism.
While this model, where vegetarianism serves to legitimate an entire tradition by
responding to sectarian critique, aligns well with the outline of the sectarian debate
outlined earlier, however, there is little explicit evidence for it. In the case of individuals,
we have seen how people such as Tülku Urgyen have explicitly held up vegetarianism as
proof of a lama’s legitimacy. Similar evidence does not exist for sectarian tension. It
would not be surprising, for instance, to find a Nyingma or Bön text responding to
critique by extolling the practice of vegetarianism, or critiquing Geluk monasteries for the
number of animals killed daily. If such texts exist, however, I have not found them.
As a result, conclusions regarding vegetarianism’s place in sectarian debate must
remain speculative. The broader picture we have seen suggests that vegetarianism could
have supplied a response to Geluk critiques of Nyingma and Bön practice. It is also
possible, however, that such a response was limited to individuals, rather than these
526
I have actively sought out references to Geluk vegetarians from this period, both through querying
contemporary Geluk scholars in the region, and through analyzing catalogs of written works composed
during this time.
261
broader sectarian debates. At this point it is worth recalling that even among the
Nyingma and Bön, vegetarianism remained a minority practice. It is possible, therefore,
that while individual Nyingma and Bön adherents could have adopted vegetarianism, at
least in part, as a response to critiques of their schools, the diet may never have been
popular enough to become directly implicated in the broader sectarian debates that were
current at the time.
Conclusion
This chapter has focused on the idea that vegetarianism provided a source of
religious legitimacy to those who adopted it. By refusing meat, in other words,
individuals could project to others (and, potentially, to themselves) the sincerity of their
religious practice. This, in turn, could ease the process of gaining disciples, patrons, and
the trappings of a religious life. Discussing vegetarianism in these terms may make it
seem like a cynical practice, aimed only at worldly ends. While this may have been true
of some vegetarians, for the majority, I believe, motivations were more complicated. By
way of a conclusion, I will explore this idea of legitimacy, suggesting that rather than
simply a cynical attempt to acquire patrons, vegetarianism was a response to animal
suffering enabled by the need for legitimacy, the rise of monasticism and the appearance
of prominent vegetarian lamas.
At the outset, it should be noted that actively seeking patrons and followers was
not necessarily considered inappropriate amongst Tibetans of this time. Admittedly,
262
Patrül, Düdjom and others do critique those who pretend to be religious leaders, but seek
only worldly gain.527 For those whose primary aim was religious, however, explicitly
seeking the assistance of patrons and the accumulation of followers was not discouraged,
a position that can be seen in Düdjom Lingpa’s frank complaints about his attempts to
attract disciples.528 Düdjom clearly wants to be well known and does not feel like there is
anything wrong with this desire.
With that said, there are reasons to believe that vegetarianism was often more
than just an intentional strategy for developing legitimacy. The first of these is the
emotional content of stories frequently used to describe an individual’s conversion to
vegetarianism. As noted above, many of these conversion stories follow a particular
pattern: the individual has a strong emotional response to the sight of an animal being
slaughtered (usually a sheep), and shortly thereafter decides to adopt vegetarianism.
These stories are united not only by their similar structure, but also by their emphasis on
the emotional content of the situation. One notable exception to this pattern is Nyakla
Pema Düdül, who becomes vegetarian after a dream in which he is chastised by
Avalokiteśvara. Following this dream he wakes up and, expressing great remorse for the
suffering he has caused by eating meat in the past, fervently vows to never touch it
527
dpal sprul o rgyan 'jigs med chos kyi dbang po, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 103, 161. Patrül
Rinpoché, The Words of My Perfect Teacher, 70, 105. bdud ‘joms gling pa, Auotbiography, 186. Düdjom
Lingpa, Clear Mirror, 138.
528
bdud ‘joms gling pa, Auotbiography, 108-110, 187-189. Düdjom Lingpa, Clear Mirror, 83-84, 139-140.
263
again.529 While Nyakla Pema Düdül is not responding to the sight of animal suffering,
his story also rests on an emotional response to animal suffering.
The language used in these accounts also emphasizes the importance of an
emotional response to animal suffering. For Ngawang Lekpa (1864-1941), the revulsion
is so strong he is unable to eat at all for several days.530 For his part, Nyakla Pema Düdül
recalls awakening from his dream with, “My mind and body in pain, as if I had eaten
poison.”531 For these individuals, the emotional impact of the animal suffering they had
caused was enough to induce physical pain. Importantly, none of these figures report
adopting vegetarianism after sober reflection on the pros and cons of the diet.
The uniformity of these accounts might suggest that they are part of the
legitimating process: in order to be legitimate, the conversion to vegetarianism had to be
presented as emotionally driven. To some degree, this is the case, as I suggested earlier.
At the same time, however, it seems inappropriate to completely reject this testimony as
simply an attempt to align with cultural or literary ideals. These individuals all recall
powerful moments of empathy for the suffering of animals. If we are going to take these
authors seriously, we must accept that at some level these were real experiences, rather
than (or in addition to) a calculated attempt to gain legitimacy.
We also need to remember that other strategies for gaining legitimacy were
widely available at this time. Düdjom Lingpa, for instance, relied on a perception that
529
nyag bla padma bdud ‘dul, Advice. Nyala Pema Duddul, “Song of Advice.”
530
kun dga’ bstan pa’i rgyal mtshan, Life of Ngawang Lekpa, 10.
531
nyag bla padma bdud ‘dul, Advice, 162. Nyala Pema Duddul, “Song of Advice,” 3.
264
his rituals had perceptible, demonstrable results. Others gained respect and legitimacy
through a humble lifestyle, extended periods of retreat or scholarship. Meanwhile,
vegetarianism, while increasingly popular, remained a minority practice. Clearly,
individual lamas could achieve legitimacy without adopting vegetarianism.
Further, we should recall from chapter two that almost all Tibetans, of all time
periods, have admitted that meat tastes good. Adopting vegetarianism, therefore, was
both unpleasant and unnecessary—in both the sense that it was not expected of anyone
and that a sense of legitimacy could be achieved without it. In this context, it seems
unlikely that many people would have adopted vegetarianism purely as part of a strategy
to increase their own legitimacy. Instead, I would suggest that these individuals are
having real, emotional crises sparked by the prospect of animal suffering.
It is in their responses to these experiences that the role of legitimacy becomes
important. There is no reason to assume, after all, that such an experience should lead to
vegetarianism. In other contexts, in fact, similar experiences did not. The clearest
example of this comes from the life of Orgyen Chökyi (1675-1729), an eighteenth
century nun living on the border with Nepal. On multiple occasions, Orgyen Chökyi’s
Autobiography recalls her distress at eating animal flesh. Once, she recalls, “When I put
goat’s meat in my mouth, my mind is sad. Set in this human life, I need food.”532 On
another occasion, similar concerns are extended to milk, “Robbing the nanny goat’s milk
btsan dug zos bzhin lus sems mi bde zhing
532
o rgyan chos skyid. Autobiography, 9. Schaeffer, Himalayan Hermitess, 138.
ra sha kha ru ‘jug dus sems nyid skyo/ mi yi lugs la rten nas zas dgos byung/
265
from the mouth of her kid makes my mind sad, but I need the milk. Having been set in
a human body, I need milk.”533
Orgyen Chökyi has a clear, negative emotional response to meat eating, and even
to drinking milk.534 If Orgyen Chökyi’s story were to fit the pattern we have outlined for
nineteenth century Kham, we would expect her to announce that she has become
vegetarian. And yet she does not. Instead, despite her clear empathy with the suffering
she is causing, she continues to eat meat, giving no indication that she even considers
vegetarianism a possibility. We can only speculate about why she does not, but it seems
likely that vegetarianism was simply not part of the religious repertoire available in
eighteenth century Nepal.
Nineteenth century Kham, on the other hand, strongly encouraged the adoption
of vegetarianism. Political and religious instability had led to a situation where individual
religious leaders felt a need to actively work to establish their legitimacy. Further,
monasticism had become increasingly important over the previous century, making
practices associated with it—such as vegetarianism—a marker of religious sincerity and
legitimacy. Finally, several of the most important figures of this period had themselves
practiced vegetarianism, providing both proof that a vegetarian diet was feasible and a
strong incentive for its adoption by others. In this context, those individuals who
experienced strong emotional reactions to the prospect of animal suffering were more
533
o rgyan chos skyid. Autobiography, 8. Schaeffer, Himalayan Hermitess, 138.
ma zho bu yi kha nas phrog dus su/ sems nyid skyod ba'i ngang nas zho dgos byung/ mi yi lus la brten nas zho dgos
byung/
534
This is the only source I have found that critiques milk alongside meat.
266
likely to turn that response into vegetarianism than individuals who lived in a different
context, such as Orgyen Chökyi.
This chapter has focused on the role of vegetarianism in understandings of
religious legitimacy in nineteenth and twentieth century Kham. In part, this focus has
been driven by the richness of the available sources, which allow a detailed glimpse of
both the cultural environment and vegetarianism’s place within it. In contrast, while
vegetarianism is well attested for other periods, such as Central Tibet from the thirteenth
through fifteenth centuries, the available sources are more limited in scope.
This emphasis on Kham should not suggest, however, that vegetarianism was not
important in developing legitimacy at other points in Tibetan history. Indeed, this idea
can be found as early as third century CE India, where the Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra says,
“Bodhisattvas, compassionate by nature, wish to protect the minds of many beings, so
that they do not denigrate the teachings. Therefore, they do not eat meat.”535 Here, the
concern with meat is not ethical, but is specifically concerned with people’s perceptions; if
someone eats meat, people may think they are not legitimate.
Similar understandings are suggested by many of the earliest references to
vegetarianism in Tibet. Often only brief biographical annotations, these references
nevertheless suggest that the authors were impressed by their subjects’ abstention from
meat. In just one example of many, The Blue Annals says of the fourth Karmapa, “He
535
Shakyamuni, Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra, 154a.
blo gros chen po skye bo mang po'i sems rjes su bsrung ba'i phyir bstan pa la skur pa spang bar 'dod pa'i byang chub
sems dpa' snying rje'i bdag nyid can gyis sha mi bza’o/
267
guarded his monastic commitments with great subtlety, not allowing even a hair’s breadth
of meat or wine into his presence.”536 Clearly, Gö Lotsawa, the author of this work, was
impressed by the Karmapa’s vegetarianism, seeing it as a sign of his broader commitment
to a religious lifestyle.
Vegetarianism, therefore, had a role to play in understandings of legitimacy well
prior to the nineteenth century. The sources are richer for that time, and the context,
with the acute need for developing legitimacy, the rise of monasticism as an ideal and the
example set by elite leaders, may have been ideal for fostering vegetarianism, but similar
patterns have occurred at other times as well.
536
‘gos lo zhon nu dpal, Blue Annals, 592. Roerich, Blue Annals, 499.
‘dul ba’i bcas pa phra mo rnams kyang bsrung zhing/ sha dang chang spu rtse tsam yang spyan lam du mi ‘grim/
268
Conclusion
In the introduction, I described this dissertation as an exploration of intersection
between religious calls for vegetarianism and cultural and environmental factors that
mitigated against such a diet. As we have seen, the Tibetan environment and culture
made adopting vegetarianism difficult. And yet, we have seen that vegetarianism was an
active part of Tibetan religiosity. Admittedly, it never became normative for Tibetan
Buddhists to eschew meat, but plenty of individuals did. Meat eating, I have shown, was
a consistent area of concern and debate, with many people and groups pulled between an
idealized vision of compassion towards animals and the practical difficulties of a
vegetarian diet.
Those difficulties begin, but do not end, with the Tibetan climate. Given Tibet’s
elevation, agriculture was difficult, to say the least. Fruit was largely unknown and
vegetables were rare, leaving barley as the primary agricultural product. With so few
other options, meat was an integral part of the Tibetan diet. This situation was
compounded for Tibet’s nomads, who depended on their herds of yak and sheep for both
their own sustenance and the entirety of their economic output.
There was also the simple fact, widely acknowledged by both meat eaters and
vegetarians, that meat tastes good, making many of my informants reluctant to give it up.
269
Further, unlike for sex, there is no clear prohibition of meat in the monastic code. Those
who opposed eating meat had no difficulty finding scriptural passages that supported
their views, but those who wished could also find passages allowing it. Meat, therefore,
was a pleasure that, while vaguely ethically problematic, was also not strictly prohibited.
Finally, and I argue most importantly, meat eating was associated with some
Tibetan cultural ideals. These ideals celebrated strength, power and the domination of
others as virtues. Meat eating, in this context, was a good thing. Such ideals were
aligned with untamed aspects of Tibetan culture, rather than tamed, Buddhistic norms,
but this does not mean that they were unimportant. Indeed, I have argued that meat
eating was not a culturally neutral practice, just waiting to be erased by Buddhist ethical
critiques. Instead, it carried with it strong, positive cultural connotations that proponents
of vegetarianism had to overcome.
And yet, as I have demonstrated, vegetarianism did exist in Tibet. Tibetan
Buddhism idealizes compassion for all beings, and a significant minority of Tibetan
Buddhist practitioners have drawn on these ideals to both practice and promote a meatfree diet. These arguments come in a variety of flavors. Some authors, for instance,
tended to highlight contradictions between meat eating and the vows that monks take.
Others highlighted scriptural passages critical of meat. Still others approached the
question of vegetarianism from a very personal, emotionally driven perspective, using
vivid language to describe both the suffering animals endure and their own response to
that suffering.
270
Despite their differences, however, these arguments all hinge on the importance
Tibetan Buddhism places on compassion. As such, vegetarianism aligned closely with
the tamed vision of religion promoted by Buddhist ethics. That is not to say that
vegetarianism was ever required of those who adhered to the tamed side of Tibetan
culture. Instead, as scholars such as Geoffrey Samuel and Stan Royal Mumford have
argued, if there is anything that explicitly divides tamed from untamed in Tibet, it is the
performance of blood sacrifice.537 Within this framework, with white sacrifices on the
one hand and red offerings on the other, vegetarianism aligns closely with tamed practice.
Indeed, in some ways vegetarianism represents tamed ideals taken to their logical
conclusion: if meat is bad to offer to the deities, perhaps people should not eat it either.
This association between vegetarianism and the ideals of tamed religiosity explains the
continuing connection between vegetarianism and monasticism, as well as its ability to
display the religious legitimacy of both individuals and communities.
When I would describe this research to friends, many—including western
scholars, lay Tibetans and Tibetan scholars—expressed a belief that vegetarianism did not
exist in pre-modern Tibet, or at least that it was so rare as to be of little consequence to
the broader study of Tibetan religion. If nothing else, I hope that this dissertation has
proved such skeptics wrong. The practical difficulties of a vegetarian diet were real, but
individuals regularly overcame them. In this discussion of Tibetan vegetarianism,
537
Samuel, Civilized Shamans, 704-705. Mumford, Himalayan Dialogue, 7.
271
therefore, I hope to have illuminated some of the complex dynamic that emerges when
religious ideals encounter entrenched practical difficulties.
272
Concordance
Personal Names
Includes ID numbers for the TBRC database, when available.
Phonetics
Wylie
Ācārya Marpo
a tsArya dmar po
Atiśa Dīpaṃkara-śrījñiāna
a ti sha dI paM ka ra shrI dznyA na
Chagdü Tülku
lcags bdud sprul sku
Chatrel Sangyé Dorjé
bya bral sangs rgyas rdo rje
P6036
Chögyel Ngakgyi Wangpo
chos rgyal ngag gi dbang po
P687
Chokgyur Lingpa
mchog gyur gling pa
P564
Devadatta
lhas phyin / lhas sphyin / lha sphyin
Dilgo Khyentsé
dil mgo mkhyen brtse
P625
Do Khyentsé
mdo mkhyen brtse
P698
Dolpopa
dol po pa shes rab rgyal mtshan
P139
Dorjé Dzeö
rdo rje mdzes ‘od
P8838
Drakpa Gyeltsen
grags pa rgyal mtshan
P1614
Dratön Kelzang Tenpé Gyeltsen
dbra ston skal bzang bstan pa’i rgyal
P1922
mtshan
TBRC
P3379
273
Drigung Könchok Gyatso
‘bri gung dkon mchog rgya mtsho
Drokmi Lotsawa
‘brog me lo tsA ba
P3285
Dromtön Gyelwé Jungné
‘brom ston rgyal ba’i ‘byung gnas
P2557
Drukpa Kunlé
‘brug pa kun dga’ legs pa
P816
Düdjom Lingpa
bdud ‘joms gling pa
P705
Dungkar Losang Tinlé
dung dkar blo bzang 'phrin las
P1161
Gerab Shepochen
dge rab shed po can
Getsé Mahapaṇḍita
dge rtse mahApaNDita
P2943
Gö Lotsawa
‘gos lo tsa ba
P318
Gönpo Lekden
mgon po legs ldan
Gönpo Namgyel
mgon po rnam rgyal
P6521
Gorampa
go rams pa bsod nams seng ge
P1042
Jamgön Kongtrül Lodrö Tayé
‘jam mgon kong sprul blo gros mtha’ yas
P264
Jampel Pawo Dorjé Tsal
‘jam dpal dpa’ bo rdo rje rtsal
Jamyang Gönpo
‘jam dbyangs mgon po
P4253
Jamyang Khyentsé Wangchuk
‘jam dbyangs mkhyen brtse'i dbang phyug
P1089
Jamyang Khyentsé Wangpo
‘jam dbyangs mkhyen brtse'i dbang po
P258
Jawa Alak
ja’ ba a lags
Jigmé Gyelwé Nyügu
‘jigs med rgyal ba’i myu gu
P695
Jigmé Lingpa
jigs med gling pa
P314
Jigmé Sengé
‘jigs med seng ge
274
Jigme Tenpé Nyima
'jigs med bstan pa'i nyi ma
P248
Jigmé Trinlé Özer
‘jigs med phrin las ‘od zer
P293
Jigmé Yeshé Drakpa’s
’jigs med ye shes grags pa
P344
Jikten Sumgön
‘jig rten gsum mgon
P16
Kakyab Dorjé
mkha’ khyab rdo rje
P563
Kangyur Rinpoché
bka’ ‘gyur rin po che
P734
Karma Chakmé
karma chags med
P649
Karma Pakshi
karma pakShi
P1487
Karmé Khenpo Rinchen Dargyé
karma’i mkhan po rin chen dar rgyas
P2710
Kechok Rangdröl Rangrik
mkhas mchog rang grol rang rig
Khedrub Jé
mkhas grub rje dge legs dpal bzang
P55
Khenpo Jigmé Püntsok
mkhan po ‘jigs med phun tshogs
P7774
Khenpo Karthar
mkhan po kar mthar
Khenpo Ngakchung
mkhan po ngag dbang dpal bzang
P724
Khenpo Shenga
mkhan po gzhan dga’
P699
Khenpo Tsültrim Lodrö
mkhan po tshul khrims blo gros
P7911
Kudön Sönam Lodrö
sku mdun bsod nams blo gros
P1682
Künga Tenpé Gyeltsen
kun dga’ bstan pa’i rgyal mtshan
P967
Künzang Sherab
kun bzang shes rab
P655
Lagen Kama
lha gen ka ma
Lobsang Yeshé Tenpé Rabgyé
blo bzang ye shes bstan pa rab rgyas
P304
275
Lochen Dharmasri
lo chen dharma srI
Longchen Tar
klong chen thar
Lopön Tenzin Namdak
slob dpon bstan ‘dzin rnam dag
P1655
Machik Labdrön
ma gcig lab sgron
P3312
Metön Sherab Özer
me ston nyi ma rgyal mtshan
P1658
Migyur Namké Dorjé
mi 'gyur nam mkha’i rdo rje
P1710
Milarepa
mi la ras pa
P1853
Mipam Jamyang Namgyel Gyatso
mi pham 'jam dbyangs rnam rgyal rgya
P252
mtsho
Namchiwé Senggo Lhalung Zik
snam phyi ba’i seng ‘go lha lung gzigs
Namka Gyeltsen
nam mkha' rgyal mtshan
Nesar Tashi Chöphel
gnas gsar bkra shis chos ‘phel
P6173
Ngawang Lekpa
ngag dbang leg pa
P812
Ngawang Tenzin Norbu
ngag dbang bstan 'dzin nor bu
P708
Ngorchen Künga Zangpo
ngor chen kun dga’ bzang po
P1132
Nyakla Pema Düdül
nyag bla pad ma bdud ‘dul
P2424
Nyammé Sherab Gyeltsen
mnyam med shes rab rgyal mtshan
P1675
Orgyen Chökyi
o rgyan chos skyid
Orgyen Lingpa
o rgyan gling pa
P4943
Orgyenpa Rinchen Pal
o rgyan pa rin chen dpal
P1448
Pabongkha
pha bong kha
P230
276
Padma Lhündrub Gyatso
padma lhun grub rgya mtsho
P5174
Pakmodrupa
phag mo gru pa rdo rje rgyal po
P127
Patrül Rinpoché
dpal sprul rin po che
P270
Pema Kelzang
padma skal bzang
P6599
Pema Nyinjé Wangpo
padma nyin byed dbang po
P559
Phulungwa
phu lung ba
Ritrö Wangchuk
ri khrod dbang phyug
Rolpé Dorjé
rol pa'i rdo rje
Sakya Paṇḍita
sa skya pandita
P1056
Samten Gyatso
bsam gtan rgya mtsho
P9904
Sangngak Rinpoché
gsang sngags rin po che
Sera Khandro
se ra mkha’ ‘gro
P742
Shabkar Tsokdruk Rangdröl
zhabs dkar tshogs drug rang grol
P287
Shakyamuni Buddha
shAkya mu ni
P7326
Shardza Tashi Gyeltsen
shar rdza bkra shis rgyal mtshan
P1663
Situ Panchen
si tu paN chen
P956
Tashi Sengé
bskra shis seng ge
Taklung Tangpa
stag lung thang pa
Tenzin Gyatso
bstan ‘dzin rgya mtsho
Tertön Migyur Dorjé
gter ston mi ‘gyur rdo rje
Tri Düsong
khri 'dus srong
P2649
P659
277
Tri Songdetsen
khri srong lde’u btsan
P7787
Trinlé Tayé Dorjé
phrin las mtha' yas rdo rje
P10569
Tsering Lama Jampel Zangpo
tshe ring bla ma 'jam dpal bzang po
P6239
Tsewang Dorjé Rigzin
tshe dbang rdo rje rig ‘dzin
P5064
Tsewang Lhamo
tshe dbang lha mo
Tsewang Tenzin
tshe dbang bstan 'dzin
Tsongkhapa
tsong kha pa
P64
Tuken Chökyi Nyima
thu’u bkwan chos kyi nyi ma
P170
Tülku A-sung
sprul sku a srung
Tülku Tübten Pelzang
sprul sku thub bstan dpal bzang
P8555
Tülku Urgyen
sprul sku o rgyan
P867
Urgyen Trinlé Dorjé
o rgyan ‘phrin las rdo rje
P5611
278
Place Names
Includes ID numbers for both TBRC & THL databases, when available.
Phonetics
Wylie
TBRC
THL
Amdo
a mdo
G649
F15348
Ba Chödé Monastery
‘ba’ chos sde dgon
G4023
Batang
ba' thang
G2305
F23724
Changtang
byang thang
G3189
F15346
Dartsedo
dar rtse mdo
G1135
F5229
Degé
sde dge
G1366
F23731
Drakkar
brag dkar
G4755
F17344
Drigung
‘bri gung
G898
F15482
Dzogchen Monastery
rdzogs chen dgon
G16
F17093
Jyekundo
skye rgu mdo
G869
F1189
Karnzé
dkar mdzes
G500
F1087
Kham
khams
G1326
F5225
Larung Gar
bla rung sgar
G3997
F5224
Lhagang
lha sgang
G3791
F15809
Lhasa
lha sa
G2126
279
Litang
li thang
G2304
F23743
Manigego
ma Ni gad mgo
Minyak
mi nyag
G1033
Mt. Tsari
tsa ri
G4631
F22392
Namtso
gnam mtsho
G2398
F5298
Ngaba
rnga ba
G2331
F23752
Nubri
nub ri
G4663
Nyakrong
nyag rong
G1365
F23745
Palpung Monastery
dpal spungs dgon
G36
F17108
Pelyül Monastery
dpal yul dgon
G18
F17447
Pungri Monastery
spung ri dgon
G4015
F17272
Reting Monastery
rwa sgreng dgon
G74
F16925
Serta
gser thar
G2302
F23740
Shechen Monastery
zhe chen dgon
G20
F17102
Tengchen Monastery
steng chen dgon
G1666
F17118
Tsang
gtsang
G1300
F15354
Ü
dbus
G1115
F17432
Yachen Gar
ya chen dgon
G3812
F17432
F16026
280
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blo bzang snyan grags. bstan pa yongs rdzogs kyi srog shing du lhag par gces pa las ‘bras kyi
rnam bzhag rnam par [Karma and its Result]. (bla brang: bla brang bkra shis ‘khyil,
n.d.). TBRC: W16139
blo bzang ye shes bstan pa rab rgyas. sdom pa gsum gyi nyes ltung rags pa ngos bzung nas
bshags sdoms byed tshul gdung sel ga bur [Explaining the Three Vows]. In: collected
works (gsun ‘bum) of rwa-sgren a-chi-thu no-mon-han blo-bzan-ye-ses-bstan-pa-rabrgyas, Vol 2 of 4. (Dharamsala: Library of Tibetan Works & Archives, 1985).
TBRC: W7335
‘bri gung dkon mchog rgya mtsho. mi ‘jigs skyabs kyi sbyin pa dkar zas ring lugs kyi phan
yon bstan pa zhi bde’i lam bzang [Benefits of Being Vegetarian]. (lha sa: bod ljongs
mi dmangs dpe skrun khang, 2004).
282
bstan ‘dzin rgya mtsho. gong sa skyabs mgon chen po mchog gis khor yug srung skyob skor stsal
ba’i blang dor lam ston [The Dalai Lama’s Talks on the Environment]. (Dharamsala:
bod gzhung phyi drl las khungs nas par ‘grems zhus, 2009).
byams pa chos grags. chab mdo byams pa gling gi gdan rabs [History of Chamdo Jampa Ling].
(chab mdo: chab mdo par ‘debs bzo grwa par btab, n.d). TBRC: W1KG3372
dbra ston skal bzang bstan pa’i rgyal mtshan. rje btsun bla ma dam pa nges pa don gyi gyung
drung ‘chad dbang dpal shar rdza pa chen po bkra shis rgyal mtsan dpal bzang po’i
rnam [Biography of Shardza]. In: shar rdza bkra shis rgyal mtshan gyi gsung ‘bum,
Vol 15 of 16. (sde dge: rdza steng chen dgon, 1988). TBRC W2CZ7988
dge rtse ‘gyur med tshe dbang mchog grub. ‘gyur med tshe dbang mchog grub kyi rnam thar
[Autobiography of Getsé Mahapaṇḍita]. In: dge rtse ma hA paNDi ta’i gsung ‘bum,
Vol 9 of 10. (khreng tu’u: dmangs khrod dpe dkon sdud sgrig khang, 2001).
dol po pa shes rab rgyal mtshan. sha chang bkag pa’i lung ‘dren rnams [The Prohibition of
Meat and Alcohol]. In: kun mkhyen dol po pa shes rab rgyal mtshan gyi gsung ‘bum,
Vol 6 of 8. (‘dzam thang: ‘dzam thang bsam ‘grub nor bu’i gling gi par khang,
n.d.). TBRC W21208
dpal sprul o rgyan ‘jigs med chos kyi dbang po. snying tig sngon ‘gro’i khrid yig kun bzang
bla ma’i zhal lung [The Words of My Perfect Teacher]. In: dpal sprul o rgyan ‘jig med
chos kyi dbang po’i gsung ‘bum, Vol 7 of 8. (Chengdu: si khron dpe skrun tshogs pa
& si khron mi rigs dpe skrun khang, 2009).
———. zhabs dkar sprul sku myur ‘byon gsol ‘debs [A Suppllication for Shabkar’s Rebirth]. In:
dpal sprul o rgyan ‘jig med chos kyi dbang po’i gsung ‘bum, Vol 8 of 8. Chengdu: si
khron dpe skrun tshogs pa & si khron mi rigs dpe skrun khang, 2009.
283
drel dkar don grub tshe brten. tshe med zhi ba’i slob ston [Advice for a Peaceful Death]. (rdza
drel dkar shes rig dpe tshogs khang, n.d.).
dung dkar blo bzang ‘phrin las. chos lugs grub mtha’ khag gi gzhi rtsa’i shes yon mdzub mo ri
ston [Dungkar Doxography]. In: mkhas dbang dung dkar blo bsang ‘phrin las kyi gsung
‘bum, Vol 3 of 8. (pe cin: mi rigs dpe skrun khang, 2004).
gnas gsar bkra shis chos ‘phel. rje kun gzigs ‘jam mgon ngag gi dbang phyug yon tan rgya
mtsho’i zhabs kyi ‘das rjes kyi rnam par thar pa ngo mtshar nor bu’i snang ba
[Marvelous Gem-like Vision]. In: rin chen gter mdzod chen mo, Vol 95 of 111. (Paro:
ngodrup and sherab drimay, 1976). TBRC: W20578
‘gos lo gzhon nu dpal. deb ther sngon po [The Blue Annals]. (khreng tu’u: si khron mi rigs
dpe skrun khang, 1984). TBRC: W1KG5762
gzhan phan chos kyi snang ba. ‘dul ba mdo rtsa ba’i mchan ‘grel padma dkar po’i ljon shing
[Tree of White Lotuses]. In: gzhan phan chos kyi snang ba’i gsung ‘bum, Vol 1 of 6.
(rdzong sar khams bye’i slob gling, 2004). TBRC: W1PD2074
———. so so thar pa’i mdo yi mchan ‘grel [Commentary on the Sūtra of Individual
Liberation]. In: gzhan phan chos kyi snang ba’i gsung ‘bum, Vol 1 of 6. (rdzong sar
khams bye’i slob gling, 2004). TBRC: W23198
gzhon nu ye shes rdo rje. bskyed rdzogs kyi zin bris blun gtam de nyid gsal ba [Babble of a
Foolish Man]. In: sngags mang zhib ‘jug no. 3 (2002): 70–77. TBRC: W2DB4605
‘jam dpal dpa’ bo rdo rje rtsal. mag gsar bon mang rig ‘dzin ‘dus pa rgya mtsho’i gdan rabs nor
bu’i do shal bzhugs so [A History of the Makser Bön Lineage]. (Sichuan: Privately
published, 2010).
‘jam dbyangs mkhyen brtse’i dbang phyug. gsung ngag rin po che lam 'bras bu dang bcas pa'i
khog phub kyi rnam bshad las/ gdams ngag byung tshul gyi zin bris gsang chen bstan pa
284
[Expansion of the Great Secret Doctrine]. In: lam ‘bras slob bshad, Vol 14 of 21.
(Dehra Dun: Sakya Centre, 1983-1985).
‘jam mgon kong sprul blo gros mtha’ yas. phyogs med ris med kyi bstan pa la ‘dun shing dge
sbyong gi gzugs brnyan ‘chang ba blo gros mtha’ yas kyi sde’i ‘byung ba brjod pa nor bu
sna tshogs mdog can [Autobiography of Jamgön Kongtrül]. (Paro: Ngodup, 1975).
TBRC: W21808
———. shes bya kun khyab mdzod [Treasury of Knowledge]. (pe cin: mi rigs dpe skrun
khang, 2002).
‘jigs med bstan pa’i nyi ma. mtshungs bral rgyal ba’i myu gu o rgyan ‘jigs med chos kyi dbang
po’i rtogs brjod phyogs tsam gleng ba bdud rtsi’i zil thigs [Biography of Patrül]. In: rdo
grub chen ‘jigs med bstan pa’i nyi ma’i gsung ‘bum, Vol 5 of 6. (khreng tu’u: si khron
dpe skrun tshogs pa/ si khron mi rigs dpe skrun khang, 2006).
‘jigs med gling pa. bla ma dgongs pa’i ‘dus pa’i cho ga’i rnams bzhag dang ‘brel ba’i bskyed
rdzogs zung ‘jug gi sgrom mkhyen brtse’i me long ‘od zer brgya ba [Commentary on the
Collected Intent of the Lamas]. In: ‘jigs med gling pa gsung ‘bum, Vol 3 of 9. ((sde
dge: sde dge dpar khang, n.d.). TBRC: W27300
———. mdo sngags zung du ‘jug pa’i spyod yul lam khyer sangs rgyas lam zhugs [Engaging the
Path of the Buddha]. In: ‘jigs med gling pa gsung ‘bum, Vol 8 of 9. (sde dge: sde dge
dpar khang, n.d.). TBRC: W27300
———. ri bong shin tu brtan pa’i gtam brag ri’i mgu la rgyan [The Well-Established Rabbit].
In: ‘jigs med gling pa gsung ‘bum, Vol 4 of 9. (sde dge: sde dge dpar khang, n.d.).
TBRC: W27300
285
———. ri chos zhal gdams ngo mtshar rgya mtsho [An Ocean of Wondrous Advice for
Mountain Retreat]. In: ‘jigs med gling pa gsung ‘bum, Vol 8 of 9. (sde dge: sde dge
dpar khang, n.d.). TBRC: W27300
———. ri dwags kyi gtam nges ‘byung gi pho nya [Tale of the Deer]. In: ‘jigs med gling pa
gsung ‘bum, Vol 4 of 9. (sde dge: sde dge dpar khang, n.d.). TBRC: W27300
———. yon tan rin po che’i mdzod dga’ ba’i char [The Treasury of Precious Qualities]. In: ‘jigs
med gling pa gsung ‘bum, Vol 1 of 9. (sde dge: sde dge dpar khang, n.d.). TBRC:
W27300
———. yon tan rin po che’i mdzod kyi rgya cher ‘grel ba bden gnyis shing rta [The Chariot of
the Two Truths]. In: ‘jigs med gling pa gsung ‘bum, Vol 1-2 of 9. (sde dge: sde dge
dpar khang, n.d.). TBRC: W27300
———. yul lho rgyud du byung ba’i rdzogs chen pa rang byung rdo rje mkhyen brtse’i ‘od zer
gyi rnam thar pa legs byas yongs ‘du’i snye ma [The Autobiography of Jigmé Lingpa].
In: ‘jigs med gling pa gsung ‘bum, Vol 9 of 9. (sde dge: sde dge dpar khang, n.d.).
TBRC: W27300
‘jigs med phrin las ‘od zer. yon tan mdzod rtsa ‘grel [Commentary on the Treasury of Precious
Qualities]. (khreng tu’u: si khron mi rigs dpe skrun khang, 1998).
‘jigs med ye shes grags pa. dpal snar thang dang rwa sgreng dgon lung byams pa gling dgon
ma lag bcas kyi bca’ yig ‘dul khrims dngos brgya ‘bar ba’i gzi ‘od [A Customary for
Nartang, Reting and Gönlung Monasteries]. In: ‘jigs med ye shes grags pa gyi gsung
‘bum, Vol 23. (lha sa, 1737).
karma chags med. sprul sku mi ‘gyur rdo rje’i phyi’i rnam thar kun khyab snyan pa’i ‘brug sgra
[Biography of Migyur Dorjé]. In: mkhas grub karma chags med kyi gsung ‘bum, Vol 3
286
of 60. (nang chen rdzong: gnas mdo gsang sngags chos ‘phel gling gi dpe rnying
nyams gso khang, 2010). TBRC: W1KG8321
karma pakShi. karma pakShi rang rnam dang skyi lan ring mo [Autobiography of Karma
Pakshi]. (Gangtok: gonpo tseten, 1978). TBRC: W27319
klong chen ye shes rdo rje. yon tan rin po che’i mdzod kyi mchan ‘grel theg gsum bdud rtsi’i
nying khu [Quintessence of the Three Paths]. (Delhi: Shechen Publications, 1991).
TBRC: W27918
kun bzang dpal ldan. chos ‘dul ba rin po che’i gleng gzhi bsdus pa blo gsal gzhon nu’i mgul
rgyan [Commentary on the Vinaya]. Blockprint of unknown providence., n.d.
TBRC: W23224
———. o rgyan ‘jigs med chos kyi dbang po’i rnam thar dad pa’i gsos sman bdud rtsi’i bum
bcud [Biography of Patrül]. In: dpal sprul o rgyan ‘jig med chos kyi dbang po’i gsung
‘bum, Vol 1 of 8. (Chengdu: si khron dpe skrun tshogs pa & si khron mi rigs dpe
skrun khang, 2009).
———. spyod ‘jug ‘grel pa ‘jam dbyangs bla ma’i zhal lung bdud rtsi’i thig pa [Words of my
Gentle Lama]. In: bka’ ma shin tu rgyas pa, Vol 46 of 120. (Chengdu: kaH thog
mkhan po ‘jam dbyangs, 1999). TBRC: W25983
kun bzang shes rab. sdom gsum bstan pa’i sgron me [A Torch for the Three Vows]. (Thimpu:
drug shes rig press, 1981). TBRC: W23379
kun dga’ bstan ‘ dzin. zas ngan sha yi bza’ ba spong ba skul ba’i gtam dam pa’i legs bshad gnad
kyi me btsa’ [Abandoning Bad Food Such as Meat]. (traM chen mtsho phu chos
grwa’i dpe tshogs, 2005).
kun dga’ bstan pa’i rgyal mtshan. rje bla ma rdo rje ‘chang ngag dbang kun dga’ legs pa’i
‘byung gnas ye shes rgyal mtshan dpal bzang po’i rnam par thar pa ngo mtshar nor bu’i
287
‘phreng ba [Biography of Ngawang Lekpa]. (New Delhi: Gonpo Dorje, 1981).
TBRC W2CZ6645
kun dga’ rgyal btshan. sdom pa gsum gyi rab tu dbye ba’i bstan bcos [Examining the Three
Vows]. (dpal sa skya’i smon lam chen mo’i dran rten, 1999). TBRC: W1KG1686
lo chen dharma sri. sdom gsum rnam par nges pa’i legs bshad ngo mtshar dpag bsam gyi snye
ma [The Wish Granting Grain]. In: Collected works (gsun ‘bum) of Smin-glin Lochhen Dharma-shrI, Vol 6 of 20. (Dehra Dun: d.g. khochen tulku, 1999). TBRC:
W9140
ma gcig lab sgron. phung po gzan skyur gyi rnam bshad gcod kyi don gsal byed [Explaining the
Meaning of Chö]. (gcod gyi chos skor. New Delhi: Tibet House, 1974). TBRC:
W00EGS1016278
mchog gyur gling pa. sprul pa’i gter ston chen mo’i rnam thar gyi sa bon zhal gsung ma dang
gter ‘byung ‘ga’ zhig ‘bel gtam sna tshogs sogs [The Short Autobiography of Chokgyur
Lingpa]. In: mchog gling gter gsar, Vol 36 of 39. (Paro: Lama Pema Tashi, 1982).
TBRC: W22642
mdo mkhyen brtse ye shes rdo rje. mdo mkhyen brste ye she rdo rje’i rnam thar [The
Autobiography of Do Khyentsé]. (Chengdu: si khron mi rigs dpe skrun khang,
1997).
mnga’ ris paN chen padma dbang rgyal. rang bzhin rdzogs pa chen po’i lam gyi cha lag sdom
pa gsum rnam par nges pa [Ascertaining the Three Vows]. In: bka’ ma shin tu rgyas pa,
Vol 51 of 120. (Chengdu: kaH thog mkhan po ‘jam dbyangs, 1999). TBRC:
W25983
288
mnyam med shes rab rgyal mtshan. ‘dul bab mdor bsdus kyi ‘grel pa [Commentary on the
Received Vinaya]. Typeset edition of unknown origin. From a private collection in
Beijing.
ngag dbang blo bzang rgya mtsho. byang chub lam gyi rim pa’i ‘khrid yig ‘jam pa’i dbyangs
kyi zhal lung [Words of Manjushri]. In: rgyal dbang lnga pa chen po’i gsung ‘bum, Vol
12 of 25. (Dharamsala: nam gsal sgron ma, 2007). TBRC: W2CZ5990
ngag dbang bstan ‘dzin nor bu. rgyal sras lag len so bdun ma’i ‘grel pa gzhung dang gdams
ngag zung ‘jug bdud rtsi’i bum bzang [Vase of Amrita]. Blockprint of unknown
providence., n.d. TBRC: W9680
ngag dbang dpal bzang. mkhan po ngag chung gi rang rnam [The Autobiography of Khenpo
Ngakchung]. (khreng tu’u: si khron mi rigs dpe skrun khang, 2000). TBRC:
W19824
———. rdzogs pa chen po klong chen snying thig gi sngon ‘gro’i khrid yig kun bzang bla ma’i
zhal lung gi zin bris [Notes on The Words of My Perfect Teacher]. (Delhi: dkon
mchog lha bris dpar las srid ‘zu khan, 1996). TBRC: W23229
ngor chen kun dga’ bzang po. spring yig slob ma la phan pa [A Letter to Benefit Students].
Typeset edition of unknown origin. From a private collection in Xinning.
nyag bla padma bdud ‘dul. chang gi nyes dmigs ston pa’i gdams pa [The Faults of Drinking
Alcohol]. In: nyag bla padma bdud ‘dul rnam thar dang mgur ‘bum. (khreng tu’u: si
khron mi rigs dpe skrun khang, 1998). TBRC: W21701
———. sha za spong ba la gdams pa [Advice for Abandoning Meat]. In: nyag bla padma bdud
‘dul rnam thar dang mgur ‘bum. (khreng tu’u: si khron mi rigs dpe skrun khang,
1998). TBRC: W21701
289
o rgyan chos skyid. mkha’ ‘gro ma o rgyan chos skyid kyi rnam thar [The Autobiography of
Orgyan Chökyi]. Manuscript courtesy of Kurtis Schaeffer.
o rgyan gling pa. padma bka’ thang [Chronicle of Padma]. (Delhi: chos spyod par skrun
khang, n.d.). TBRC W23711
padma lhun grub rgya mtsho. sdom gsum bshad bya’i yan lag [A Brief Explanation of the
Three Vows]. In: The Works of Rag-Mgo Mchog-Sprul Thub-Bstan-Bsad-SgrubRgya-Mtsho, 1890-1973, Vol 2 of 4. (Bylakuppe: Pema Norbu Rinpoche, 1985).
padma nyin byed dbang po. zin bris kyi rim pa sna tshogs pa’i skor rnams phyogs gcig tu
bsdebs pa yon tan bdud rtsi’i gter mdzod [A Treasury of the Qualities of Amrita]. In: si
tu padma nyin byed kyi bka’ ‘bum, Vol 3 of 3. (dpal spungs gsung rab nyams gso
khang, 2006).
pha bong kha pa bde chen snying po. rnam grol lag bcangs su gtod pa’i man ngag zab mo
tshang la ma nor ba mtshungs med chos kyi rgyal po’i thugs bcud byang chub lam gyi rim
pa’i nyams khrid kyi zin bris gsung rab kun gyi bcud bsdus gdams ngag bdud rtsi’i
snying po [Liberation in the Hand]. (dga’ ldan shar rtse nor gling grwa tshang,
n.d.). TBRC: W1KG11781
phur bu bkra shis. rang legs su ‘od pa rnams la srog gcod sha yi kha zas spong bar bskul ba’i
gtam drang srong thub pa’i bka’ lung dngos [Lamp of Scripture and Reasoning].
(Darjeeling: Bokar Ngedhon Chokhor Ling, 2006).
rdo rje mdzes ‘od. bka’ brgyud kyi rnam thar chen mo rin po che’i gter mdzod dgos ‘dod ‘byung
gnas [The Great Kagyü Biographies]. (Bir: D. Tsondu Senghe, 1985). TBRC:
W27600
rig ‘dzin gar gyi dbang phyug. sha zos pa’i nyes pa byams snying rje gsod pa’i zas gcod sems kyi
bdud rtsi dang / sgog pa dang/ tha ma kha dang/ zas [The Faults of Eating Meat]. In:
290
rig ‘dzin gar gyi dbang phyug gi gsung ‘bum, Vol 2 of 5. (nyag a ‘dzin rong: ‘chi med
byang chub gling, n.d.). TBRC: W19884
se ra mkha’ ‘gro kun bzang bde skyong dbang mo. dbus mo bde ba’i rdo rje’i rnam par thar
pa nges ‘byung ‘dren pa’i shing rta skal ldan dad pa’i mchod sdong [The Autobiography
of Sera Khandro]. In: dbus bza’ mkha’ ‘gro’i gsung ‘bum, Vol 1 of 6. (khreng tu’u: si
khron dpe skrun tshogs pa/ si khron mi rigs dpe skrun khang, 2009). TBRC:
W1PD108254
Shakyamuni Buddha (Attributed). ‘dul ba gzhi [Foundations of the Vinaya]. In: bka’ ‘gyur,
Vol 1-4 of 103. (sde dge: sde dge dpar khang, 1733). TBRC: W22084
———. lang kar gshegs pa’i mdo [Laṅkāvatāra Sūtra]. In: bka’ ‘gyur, Vol 49 of 103. sde
(dge: sde dge dpar khang, 1733). TBRC: W22084
———. myang ‘das chen po’i mdo [Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra]. In: bka’ ‘gyur, Vol 52-53 of
103. (sde dge: sde dge dpar khang, 1733). TBRC: W22084
shar rdza bkra shis rgyal mtshan. mang thun sha zos pas nyes dmigs mdor bsdus [The
Shortcomings of Eating Meat]. In: shar rdza gsung ‘bum, Vol 13 of 16. (chab mdo:
chab mdo par ‘debs bzo grwa, 1988).
———. sdom gsum rnam par ‘byed pa’i gzhung don gsal bar byed pa’i ‘grel pa legs bshad ‘phrul
gyi lde mig ces bya ba [Distinguishing the Three Vows]. In: shar rdza bkra shis rgyal
mtshan gyi gsung ‘bum, Vol 6 of 16. (sde dge: rdza steng chen dgon, 1988). TBRC
W2CZ7988
shes bya kun gzigs. sha khrag gi dmar zas spang nas dkar zas la ‘jug par bskul ba lhag bsam
snying gi re ‘bod [An Appeal to Abandon Meat]. (mdo sngags bshad sgrub chos ‘khor
nyin byed gling, 2008).
291
si tu paN chen chos kyi ‘byung gnas. sgrub brgyud karma kaM tshang brgyud pa rin po che’i
rnam par thar pa rab ‘byams nor bu zla ba chu shel gyi phreng ba [Bioographical
HIstory of Kamtsang Kagyü]. In: ta’i si tu pa kun mkhyen chos kyi ‘byu gnas bstan pa’i
nyin byed kyi bka’ ‘bum, Vol 12 of 14. (Sansal: palpung sungrab nyamso khang,
1990). TBRC: W26630
skal bzang chos kyi rgya mtsho bsod nams dbang po. sangs rgyas bcom ldan ‘das kyi rnam
par thar pa rmad du byung ba mdzad pa ‘khrul pa med par brjod pa bde bar gshegs pa’i
spyod pa mchog gi gter [A Biography of the Buddha]. (Dolanji: Tashi Dorje, 1975).
smyo shul mkhan po ‘jam dbyangs rdo rje. rang bzhin rdzogs pa chen po’i chos ‘byung rig
‘dzin brgyud pa’i rnam thar ngo mtshar nor bu bai DUrya’i phreng ba [A Garland of
Rare Gems]. 2 Vols. (Thimpu: Shanti Ashram, Mori Thang, 1996). TBRC:
W23682
thu’u bkwan blo bzang chos kyi nyi ma. thu’u bkwan grub mtha’ [The Crystal Mirror of
Philosophical Systems]. (kan su’u mi rigs dpe skrun khang, 2010).
thub bstan bsod pa. mar gyur ‘gro ba’i srog la brtse ba med pa’i blos za phyir bsad pa las byung
ba’i sha za mi rigs pa’i tshul dkar chos nang pa’i mdzes rgyan dge ba’i chos kyi bskul ma
zhes bya [The Inner Ornament of White Dharma]. (Bylakuppe: Sera Jhe Mahāyāna
Buddhist University, 1999).
———. sha zas gnang bkag la dpyad pa gzhan gnod spong ba’i gtam [Examing the Rules
about Meat]. Manuscript courtesy of dge shes bsod pa, 2011.
thub bstan dpal bzang. rgyal dbang dpal yul ba’i lo rgyus mdor bsdus yongs ‘dus ljon bzang nor
bu’i do shal [An Abridged History of Glorious Pelyül]. (rgya bod rig gzhung dpe
mdzod khang, 2011).
292
thub bstan phun tshogs. thang bla tshe dbang gi rnam thar skor [The Life of Thangla
Tsewang]. Edited by dkon mchog bstan ‘dzin, yon tan tshe ring, rdo dril, bu rgan,
and lcags sprul ya ma tshe ring. In: thang bla tshe dbang phyag bris gces bsgrigs bzo
rig mig rgyan. (Chengdu: si khron dpe skrun tshogs pa & si khron mi rigs dpe
skrun khang, 2006).
tshe ring bla ma ‘jam dpal bzang po. rgyal dbang dpal yul ba’i gdan rabs ngo mtshar ‘chi med
yongs ‘du’i ljon pa’i phreng ba zhes [A Garland of Immortal Wish-Fulfilling Trees].
(Bylakuppe: Pema Norbu Rinpoche, n.d.). TBRC W27596
tshul khrims blo ‘ gros. dge bskul zhu yig [Words to Increase Virtue]. In: sha chang tha ma kha
sogs kyi nyes dmigs phyogs bsdus. (bla rung sgar: gser thang bla rung lnga rig nang
bstan slob gling, n.d.).
———. lugs gnyis blang rdor gsal ba’i bslab bya [Clearly Explaining What to Accept and
Reject According to the Two Systems]. Two disk DVD set purchased in Kham., n.d.
———. sha’i kha zas gnang bkag gi bslab bya blang dor gsal ba’i me long [The Clear Mirror of
What to Accept and Reject]. In: sha chang tha ma kha sogs kyi nyes dmigs phyogs bsdus.
(bla rung sgar: gser thang bla rung lnga rig nang bstan slob gling, n.d.).
tshul khrims blo gros, ed. sha chang tha ma kha sogs kyi nyes dmigs phyogs bsdus bzhugs so
[The Faults of Meat, Alcohol and Tobacco]. (Larung Gar: gser thang bla rung lnga
rig nang bstan slob gling, n.d.).
tsong kha pa. bla ma lnga bcu pa’i rnam bshad slob ma’i re ba kun skong [Commentary on the
Fifty Verses of Guru Devotion]. In: the collected works (gsun ‘bum) of rje rin-po-che,
Vol 1 of 27. (New Delhi: Ngawang Gelek Demo, 1975). TBRC: W22109
293
yon tan rgya mtsho. sdom pa gsum rnam par nges pa’i mchan ‘grel rig pa ‘dzin pa’i ‘jug ngogs
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