Over the past 20 years or so Tibet has become a spiritual and philosophic icon for people all over the world. So much so that it has entered the mainstream of popular consciousness. The little known complexities of Tibetan shamanistic Buddhism today have a currency that Therevada never achieved. The times were right and it has tapped into the anima mundi to the extent that the Dalai Lama is a universal pop icon in a way that the Pope could never be. How on earth did we get here?
Well I guess the 'dark side' played a pretty creative part, what with the Chinese invasion and consequent Tibetan Diaspora. And for that I suppose we must give thanks.
After the flight to Dharmsala in the 50's and a moment to regroup, the movement out into the world of the Gentiles was on with a vengeance. With the wise, revered and much-loved Dalai Lama at it's head, an extraordinary PR & fundraising campaign came about. All without overt proselytisation and yet immensely successful. From Boulder to Birmingham, from Harvard to Houston, scarcely a town or institution of any size in The West did not receive and lay out the welcome mat for a visit from a band of exiled Tibetan monks who chanted, rang bells, blew horns and were jolly. Rinpoches of all stripes & talents spread out over the face of the earth. Some soaring like angels, others falling to earth in flames, sacrifices to the manifest temptations of the flesh and the material world. The Tibetan 'cabinet' in exile readily found the ear of the rich & powerful, as often as not through the whispered advocacy of spouses. In high & low degree, in Hollywood too, Tibet was in. Gnash their teeth as they might, the butchers of Beijing by their every move seemed only to add further fuel to the raging fire of popular appeal.
It also helped that the world of the Gentiles likes Tibetans, especially when compared to their occupiers. Otherworldly in some ways, they are also down-to-earth, good-natured & good-humoured. Dour they are not. Hat against Hat, whatever dark passions, rivalries & Byzantine intrigues may have, nay must have, come forth from the dark corridors of the Potala to dwell in Dharmsala, the world saw very little of it and cared less - so charmed was it.
The parallel with the Jewish Diaspora is interesting, if not exact. For Buddhism read Judaism/Christianity; for the Buddha read Christ; for the Chinese read the Romans; the Dalai Lhama is St Paul; the Gentiles are the US & the West; the Potala, the Temple at Jerusalem; and Dharmsala being 'exile' or Babylon (bit of a stretch that last I grant you). And while the "Return to Lhasa" and the Potala, unlovingly restored by the Chinese as the Temple was razed by the Romans, may be a while yet (the Jews had to wait over 1900 years), the fact is that an obscure Judaic sect went out into the world, morphing into one of the world's great religious movements.
And that's the interesting thing, isn't it? Could it be that we are at the brink of some universal Buddhism, call it what you will, but whose impetus is Tibetan and has a thousand different faces? That the dawning of a new consciousness finds common expression through the basic precepts of Mahayana with a bow to Hinduism and the Perennial Philosophy? If that means a sense of loving kindness, cosmic unity and an abiding tolerance of individual spiritual expression then it's no bad thing I say. In fact we might all become long-term optimists for our species - if it were so.
Born in the FCC
All of which takes me back to my own first experience of Tibet, which was an epiphany of sorts & for what it's worth I'll share. It was in December 1991, a time of unrest in Lhasa and journalists, only recently permitted to visit, were once again very persona non grata.
Picture then, the President of the Foreign Correspondents Club in Hong Kong and the General Manager of the Holiday Inn Lhasa, with sundry hacks enjoying a very good dinner and excellent claret in the Club's upper dining room. Serious business was afoot and there were problems to be solved. The FCC President was under considerable peer pressure to find a way to get journalists back into Tibet. The halls of the Lhasa Holiday Inn yawned empty. Because of the troubles a large group, who got off on high places & thin air, had cancelled and gone to Manchu Picchu instead.
Now the hotel's GM, alas no longer with us & sorely missed, was an extraordinary Italian named Ernesto, a man both brilliant and bizarre with a low boredom threshold and somewhat chequered career. Completing his PhD in Tantric studies at the Sorbonne with a thesis on the sexual practices of the 6th Dalai Lhama as well as running the hotel in Lhasa, Ernesto had recently left Japan under a cloud where as GM of a Hilton there he was said to have spiked the punch at a formal reception with a substance & results I do not care to mention. Indeed, a man of impeccable energy & character, & quite irreplaceable. I can't help but wonder if certain of our 'ever so' tasteful boutique but alas rather empty properties in Bali might not benefit by finding such a man.
As the wine flowed, sure enough the solution arrived. "I've got it!", it was course Ernesto. "We hold The Miss Tibet Contest!" The assembled company fell silent, awed for a moment before roaring their admiration & approval. It was perfect, it had everything. And so it was.
A jolie laide French girl, who ran tours to far off places, in the spirit of the moment bravely volunteered to organise things. The FCC, which is the centre of some things in Hong Kong but not others, is a bit "Wig & Pen" in that it has it's fair share of louche legals, financiers, admen & media types, as well as a few of the braver socialites, who like to live dangerously. And so the Word went out into the World.
Hong Kong's second airline was persuaded to sponsor the group - though they would come to rue the day. Within weeks some 70 of us were packed & ready to go. We were a motley crew. There were of course the foreign correspondents, cameramen & media types, plus a smattering of businessmen. Hong Kong's glitterati was well represented, along with what quickly became known as the 'OM Brigade', most of whom straddled both these worlds (wealth & position being no bar, if not exactly a requirement for the spiritual path in Hong Kong). There was a group of French who complained a lot, and a small group of Spaniards, who were jolly and sang.
A panel of 15 judges, comprising various sponsors & members of the glitterati, was selected to pick the beauteous Tibetan queen-to-be. Among them, my companion at the time, a striking woman of Indian/Chinese parentage and not unconnected to Holiday Inn management, whose good looks were matched only by her vulgarity and o'erweening ego. I was infatuated but did not admire. This was not a trip to be missed.
We flew to Chengdu, where we overnighted, and onto Lhasa the following day. The outward journey was not without incident. As we kicked our heels at Chengdu's grubby airport awaiting the flight to Lhasa there came early signs that this was not a group to be messed with. First off it was the smokers amongst us, rebelling at the No Smoking signs, prominently displayed & officiously enforced by a bunch of entrepreneurial airport cleaning ladies empowered to exact on-the-spot fines. Commie bossiness run slap into 'gweilo' bloody mindedness. Imagine a Chinese Margaret Thatcher v. the harder-bitten elements of the Vietnam Press Corp and you'll start to get the picture. Full marks to Ah Maggie though, the gals hung right in there until eventually our flight was called & butts extinguished.
We arrived on the Roof of the World mid-afternoon in the dead of Winter, sunny without snow but well below freezing. In shadow or at night it was seriously cold. The landscape was awesomely stark and beautiful. My heart soared.
The Holiday Inn was a sprawling characterless building. The public rooms were unheated and you needed your overcoat or a few stiff drinks to survive & group members quickly demonstrated their preference. Fortunately the rooms were comfortable, well heated, with modern plumbing & copious hot water. We had food for 5 days, most of which had to be flown in as nothing fresh was locally available at this time of year. From here Ernesto's extravaganza was to unfold over the next 5 days and nights...........
(To be continued next issue)
" Could it be that we are at the brink of some universal Buddhism, whose impetus is Tibetan but has a thousand different faces? That the dawning of a new consciousness finds common expression through the basic precepts of Buddhism with a bow to Hinduism and the Perennial Philosophy?"
