The Buddha’s aunt led the first women’s rights march in recorded history

On Jan. 19, women in US cities and around the globe will gather for the third annual Women’s March. In so doing, whether they know it or not, they’ll be following in the footsteps of Mahapajapati Gotami—a feminist from ancient India born in 600 BC, and the aunt and foster mother of Siddhārtha Gotama, best known as the Buddha.

Gotami was the queen of a region in northern India now known as Nepal. But by age 40, she had given birth to no heir, so her husband married her younger sister as well.

Soon, both women got pregnant, but the younger one gave birth first. When the Buddha’s mother died shortly after his birth, his aunt was tasked with caring for the newborn prince. She gave her own son to a servant to nurse and provided her milk to young Siddhartha.

Famously, when the prince grew up, he rejected his riches and set off to discover the meaning of life, eventually alighting upon a path he called “the middle way” and forging a new spiritual philosophy known as Buddhism. The Buddha’s school of thought had lots of followers, including his aunt and his father, the king, who both marveled at his spiritual transformation.

Women were already studying Buddhism in its early days—but there was no monastic order for them to join. And while women could participate, they could not lead this burgeoning movement.

Mahapajapati Gotami entreats the Buddha

After the king died, Gotami, then in her 70s, asked her nephew to form an order of nuns so that women, too, could be ordained, devote themselves to Buddhism, and develop to their fullest capacity spiritually. The Buddha refused. She asked again, and he said no. Gotami tried a third time and still her nephew, the man she had raised as her own son, disagreed despite her entreaties. He gave no reason for his refusal.

Gotami was crushed. But she discovered that she was not alone. According to Buddhist lore, 500 women who were either widows or simply sought to devote themselves to a spiritual path gathered by her side to support her cause.

Bolstered, the Buddha’s aunt shaved her hair and donned yellow robes, just like a monk. Her 500 supporters joined her in this move. Then, the group walked more than 100 miles (or more than 350 miles, depending which account you read) to the Jetavana monastery where the Buddha taught. All along the way, the women drew crowds as people gathered to marvel at this group, heads shorn, dressed identically, joined for a cause. “This was the first women’s rights march in recorded history,” writes Pema Khandro Rinpoche in the Buddhist publication Lion’s Roar.

The women arrived at the monastery dusty, tired, and with swollen feet, but still determined. They were greeted at the entrance by the monk Ananda, one of the Buddha’s principal disciples and his cousin. He was shocked to see his aunt in tears and her followers in this state of disarray, and asked what they were doing there, certain some calamity had befallen them. Had there been a revolution?

Gotami explained that they came to ask for the creation of an order of nuns. She was lingering at the monastery’s entrance because she simply couldn’t take no for an answer this time and was trying to figure out the right approach with her nephew.

Sympathetic to their cause, Ananda offered to speak to the Budhha on their behalf. But he, too, got the same answer: No. Ananda asked again and again and was repeatedly refused, just as Gotami had been. Finally, he asked the Buddha whether a woman could ever be enlightened and attain the bliss of sainthood. She could, the Buddha said. Ananda queried, “Well then, why can’t a woman be a nun?”

With this question, he changed the Buddha’s mind. An order of nuns was created.

It should be noted that there were eight conditions laid out for the creation of the female monastic order. Nuns, no matter how senior, must defer to monks, even new ones. They could never chide or advise a monk, and yet had to seek the counsel of the male order and abide by the rules of both the male and female orders. Nuns also had to study two years before being ordained, compared to a year for monks, and had to live within six hours travel of a male order.

Nonetheless, Gotami achieved her goal. She became the first ordained Buddhist nun and led her 500 followers and other women as a spiritual guide. Her efforts are proof positive that activism matters and that taking no for an answer—even when you get the same answer over and over—isn’t the only option.

Since then, countless women over the centuries have followed her example, in their own lives and as participants in movements for equality. And they will do it again this month, in numerous cities, from Portland, Oregon to Ranomafana in Madagascar. The gathering that began as a resistance to US president Donald Trump taking office in 2017 continues to inspire women to participate in politics, by voting and running for public office, and to stand up to be seen and heard. The organizers of the US movement predict, “The #WomensWave is coming, and we’re sweeping the world forward with us.”

They’ll be following the impressive precedent first set by Mahapajapati Gotami more than 2,500 years ago.

(Source: Quartz)

Delivering Amazon packages to the top of the world

With big ambitions in India, the retail giant has recruited hundreds of small businesses to get packages to the most remote customers — including those 11,562 feet up in the Himalayas.

Perched high in the Himalayas, near India’s border with China, the tiny town of Leh sometimes seems as if it has been left behind by modern technology. Internet and cellphone service is spotty, the two roads to the outside world are snowed in every winter, and Buddhist monasteries compete with military outposts for prime mountaintop locations.

But early each morning, the convenience of the digital age arrives, by way of a plane carrying 15 to 20 bags of packages from Amazon. At an elevation of 11,562 feet, Leh is the highest spot in the world where the company offers speedy delivery.

The main square of Leh, India, a Himalayan town where Amazon started offering doorstep delivery last fall.

When the plane arrives from New Delhi, it is met by employees from Amazon’s local delivery partner, Incredible Himalaya, who then shuttle the packages by van to a modest warehouse nearby. Eshay Rangdol, 26, the nephew of the owner, helps oversee the sorting of the packages and delivers many of them himself.

The couriers must follow exacting standards set by Amazon, from wearing closed-toe shoes and being neatly groomed to displaying their ID cards and carrying a fully charged cellphone.

Eshay Rangdol getting ready, in an Amazon office in Leh, to deliver packages that had been flown in from New Delhi.

Amazon began offering doorstep delivery in this region last fall, as part of an effort to better serve the remotest corners of India. Sales volume in Leh is up twelvefold since Incredible Himalaya took over deliveries from the postal service, which was much slower and required customers to pick up packages at the post office.

Local delivery partners like Incredible Himalaya are vital to the American company’s global strategy, especially as it tries to diversify beyond traditional package delivery companies like United Parcel Service or FedEx. Last week, Amazon announced a program to entice more small businesses to join the company’s delivery network in the United States.

Another courier for Incredible Himalaya, which is Amazon's local delivery partner.

Leh is geographically and culturally close to Tibet, a region controlled by China. Buddhist monasteries tend to the religious needs of the town’s 30,000 residents, while military units guard the still-disputed border with China.

Mr. Rangdol and the other couriers get to the shoppers via motorcycle and scooter. When the snow is heavy in the winter, they will occasionally use a car. But two wheels are generally better than four to navigate Leh’s narrow, bumpy roads and dodge the ubiquitous cows. 

A motorcycle makes it easier for Mr. Rangdol to get around, especially with all the bumps — not to mention the cows — in the roads.

Skalzing Dolma, a frequent Amazon customer, was Mr. Rangdol’s first stop on a recent day, receiving a delivery of bedsheets and eye shadow.

With few choices in Leh's stores, cosmetics and clothing are popular purchases for Amazon customers like Skalzing Dolma.

Ms. Dolma has bought everything from clothing to kitchen appliances on Amazon and estimated that she has spent a total of 100,000 rupees, or around $1,500, on the site. With few choices in Leh stores, cosmetics and clothing are popular categories for Amazon here.

Orders typically arrive in five to seven days, slower than the two-day delivery that Amazon’s big-city customers receive but quicker than the monthlong journey they often took with the post office.

With a baby due in July, Rigzin Dolker, who used to work at call centers in Delhi, finds Amazon to be far more convenient than trekking into town. She has been buying baby clothes and makeup from the company.

Buying from Amazon spares Rigzin Dolker, who is expecting a baby in July, from having to trek into town.

Fortunately for Amazon, the local soldiers and monks are big customers. Thinley Odzer, a monk at the tiny Kartse Monastery, received a backpack. In the past, he has bought mobile phone cases and parts for his motorbike.

Monks like Thinley Odzer at the Kartse Monastery, as well as local soldiers, are big Amazon customers.

Leh hardly seems like the kind of market that would appeal to a global e-commerce giant like Amazon. Internet service — essential to placing an order — cuts out frequently during the best of times and goes down entirely for weeks or months during winter, when the trunk line to Srinagar, the state capital, is damaged under the snow.

But Amazon takes the long view. E-commerce is spreading globally, and India is a prime battleground, where customers are just beginning to shop online and loyalties are not yet established. Walmart recently announced plans to buy a controlling interest in India’s leading e-commerce company, Flipkart, allowing it to challenge Amazon directly for the wallets of Indian consumers.

Amazon may never make money shipping products by air to customers in Leh. But the idea is that profits from dense urban areas like Mumbai and Delhi will subsidize service to more remote ones.

“We want to make delivery convenient to where our customers are,” said Tim Collins, Amazon’s vice president of global logistics. “Over time, the economics will work themselves out.”

The strategy rankles Leh merchants like Nawang Shispa, owner of Tsering Electronics, who said his sales of phones and accessories had dropped 10 percent since Amazon started quicker delivery to the community.

Still, his salesmen compensate. One of them sold a new Oppo smartphone to Jigmat Amo, 16, by slightly undercutting Amazon’s price. Ms. Amo said she was a bit leery of Amazon after buying a handbag and a pair of ballet shoes from the site that did not look like the pictures.

Liyaqat Ali, owner of the Singay General Store in the main town square, figured that there is room enough for both him and Amazon. He does a brisk business selling groceries and sundries like diapers, which people typically need right away.

“Amazon is new to Leh, and the internet is not so good,” he said. “And if you order something like diapers, you have to wait a week to 10 days.”

Liyaqat Ali, who owns a general store in Leh, said there was still a demand for groceries and other items that customers didn't want to wait for.

Mr. Rangdol said that in addition to delivering packages and managing the delivery warehouse, he taught people how to order on Amazon.

“Before I joined Amazon, my friends called me Eshay,” Mr. Rangdol said. “Now they call me Amazon.”

“Before I joined Amazon, my friends called me Eshay,” he said. “Now they call me Amazon.”
Working with the company is certainly better than his previous job leading tourists on long treks up cold mountains — although he still has to do a bit of climbing with a heavy pack.

(Source: NYT)

Buddhism in the numbers

By Rev. Lynn "Jnana" Sipe - Zen Dharma Teacher

A Dharma Talk at the IBMC --- The rather inelegant title of today’s talk, “Buddhism in the Numbers”, does an injustice to the elegance of the subject itself, the role of numbers in communicating the dharma. For there is indeed a rich vein of numerical references in Buddhism, primarily in the sutras, but also in related doctrines and teachings. My purpose here this morning is to briefly mine that vein, to bring a greater degree of awareness to the place of numbers that permeate so much of our study and devotion along the Buddhist path.

First, a bit of historical and conceptual context. As we all know, Buddhism is in origin an Indian religion. As such it developed within an ancient cultural tradition whose scholarly mathematicians and astronomers were concerned with practical applications and who were motivated by a kind of passion for both numbers and numerical calculations. Indeed, India is the true birthplace of our numerals, which are popularly, but inaccurately, referred to as Arabic numerals.

On a very basic, fundamental level, a practical application of the Indian passion for numbers was in the compilation of lists. For instance, if we set aside the accompanying stories and biographical/historical information in the Pali canon one is left with a whole pile of lists from the Buddha and long explanations about the lists. The Buddha was like a scientist observing reality and Ultimate Truth from the deepest levels of insight and enlightenment. The lists are the breakdown of the doctrines, concepts, and reality as communicated by the Buddha.

Prior to the advent of written literature in India, including the initial written recording of the Buddhist sutras, knowledge was orally transmitted from one generation to the next. Once it was possible to record sacred texts in written form there was still reluctance on the part of religious figures to do so. The sacred word was deemed to be less sanctified if committed to writing. In a society in which it was quite possible for learned sages to commit the entire text of the Vedas to memory it is hardly surprising that the huge number of Buddhist lists, within the sutras, could be committed to memory by the various early Buddhist teachers and scholars. In a pre-literate society such lists were an ideal pedagogical approach as well as being very useful mnemonic devices. These enumerations helped, and still help, convey the meaning of the dharma.

In succeeding centuries, when Zen developed in China, a rich tradition of writing already existed. Thus, the development of numbered lists greatly declined, as the original reasons behind them were no longer extant. Accordingly, in the examples that follow, there are relatively few Zen references.

In the Mahayana Lalitavistara Sutra the Sage Vishvamitra, who was teaching the eight-year old Shakyamuni, explained that numeration, numbers and arithmetic constitute the most important discipline among the seventy-arts and sciences that the Bodhisattva must acquire. At a later point in this sutra the Bodhisattva Shakyamuni, now of marriageable age, pits his wits against the great mathematician Arjuna. Shakyamuni displays a mind-boggling mastery of numbers and mathematical calculation, ranging from the measurement of the size of what we would call a molecule to a value equaling the number 1 followed by 421 zeroes.

On one level, it is difficult for a modern student of Buddhism not to be struck by the frequent use of very high numbers or large numerical descriptions (such “as many as dust motes in Buddha lands”, references to kalpas and mahakalpas, etc.) in certain sutras and historical accounts. This is a reflection of the early passion that Indian civilization exhibited for high numbers. While it is unclear if this particular passion had been developed at the time of the Buddha, it certainly was in place at the time of the compilation of the later Mahayana sutras in the earliest centuries of the Common Era. For instance, the previously mentioned Lalitavistara Sutra is replete with references to high numbers of gods, divinities, sons of gods, Bodhisattvas, Buddhas, ornaments, flowers, etc. The Lotus Sutra or numerous other Mahayana sutras would serve equally well as examples of the seeming obsession in Indian Buddhist writings with high numbers.

When we chant om mane padme hum any reference to a numerical value is presumably far from our minds. The word padme, of course, means lotus. This flower is identified as the ‘throne’ of the Buddha as well as of most of his manifestations. It also represents the bodhi or the Buddha nature of awakening to supreme enlightenment. It is this idea of absolute and divine perfection that gives the word padme a high numerical value as well. Originally padme represented the number ten to the ninth power. Over time this value increased to be identified with ten to the 119th power. A lotus of so many petals would be inconceivably large, as inconceivable as is supreme enlightenment itself to one who has not attained it.

Let’s turn from the rarefied realm of high numbers and proceed with what I’ll call “Jnana’s List”, which provides a very modest sampling of the more comprehensible enumerations of various aspects of devotional and descriptive attributes, qualities, concepts, and similar references that can be found in the Buddhist literature. My primary emphasis as we progress through only 20 of the most important numbers will be on the lower end of the scale, with the highest number considered being 108. The number 108 is an important magic and sacred number in Indian tradition, with one of its associations symbolizing perfection. In this context it refers to the 108 distinctive signs of perfection that distinguishes a Buddha from other human beings. Partly related to this usage then is the text of the chant, found at the back of our chant book, which we use in the “108 Bows Ceremony” on the first Sunday of each month.

The first of the remaining 19 numbers to consider is 62. 62 refers to the “62 Kinds of Wrong View”. Here the wrong views are in reference to eternity, self and causality. A characteristic example is the view that the self after death is healthy and conscious and material.

52 refers to the “52 Mental Formations”. These range from greed and hatred to discretion and balance of mind.

40 refers to the “40 Meditation Subjects”. This challenging list of subjects on which it is most fruitful to meditate includes a corpse that is hacked and scattered as well as the contemplation of charity.

37 refers to the “37 Factors of Enlightenment” or the “37 things that are conducive to awakening”. Among these factors are the four foundations of mindfulness as well as the Eightfold Path.

32 refers to the “32 Parts of the Body”. These parts, ranging from teeth to urine, are focal points for reflection on their impure and impermanent nature.

32 also refers to the “32 Physical Marks” or the “32 Characteristics by Which a Great Man can be Recognized.” These marks are found on the body of both a Buddha and a Universal Ruler or chakravartin. Included among these are a long tongue, blue eyes, and webbed fingers and toes.

31 refers to the “31 Planes of Existence”. Ghosts, animals and humans occupy three of the planes, for example, and devas of unbounded radiance occupy another.

22 refers to the “22 Faculties”, as identified in the Abhidamma. Included here are the six senses, the three factors concerning gender, the five feelings, the five spiritual faculties, and the three super-mundane faculties.

18 refers to the “18 Principal Insights”. A characteristic insight from this list is that “The contemplation of change abandons the perception of stability.”

16 refers to the “16 Arhants” and their disciples, to whom the Buddha entrusted the care of his teachings at the time of his paranirvana.

We have two references to 12. The first is to the “12 Links of Dependent Origination” or pratitya-samutpada. When one link exists the link following arises as an effect or the preceding link, such as craving giving rise to grasping or birth giving rise to old age and death.

Another reference for 12 is the “12 Psychic Powers” possessed by a Buddha, such as clairvoyance and recalling one’s previous existence and the existences of others.

The number 10 is probably one of the three most important numbers in Buddhist compilations, the other two being 3 and 5. We will begin with the “10 Precepts”, the minimum number that each member of the clergy sitting here on the tatami has taken in achieving their current position.

10 also refers to the “10 Hindrances to Enlightenment”, otherwise known as the “10 Fetters”. Included among the fetters are conceit, restlessness and ignorance.

Contrasting with the preceding listing, there are the “10 Good Deeds or Meritorious Actions”. Representative of these are non-greed, non-hatred and right views. 

A set of powers ascribed to a Buddha differing from the “12 Psychic Powers” mentioned earlier is described in the “10 Powers of a Buddha”. These powers confer on him knowledge of various aspects of existence.

The “10 Great Disciples” refer to the Buddha’s most famous disciples, including the first two Indian patriarchs of the Zen lineage, Mahakasyapa and Ananda.

Finally, in the Zen tradition the “10 Oxherding Pictures” utilize an artistic metaphor for the path of meditation and the attainment of enlightenment.

9 refers to the “9 Ways Not to Accept Something as Completely True”, such as “do not believe in something just because the authorities say it is so.”

We are all familiar with the Noble Eight-Fold Path. 8 is additionally represented by the “8 Jhanas” or the 8 states of meditative absorption.

There are also the “8 Auspicious Symbols”, signs of good fortune very popular in Tibetan Buddhism and linked with various aspects of Buddhist teachings. They are visually represented in the wall hanging on the south side of the tatami platform.

7 refers to the “7 Factors of Enlightenment”, such as calm and equanimity as well as to the “7 Universal Mental Constituents”. These arise in every unit of consciousness, such as feeling and perception.

6 refers to the “6 Kinds of Temperaments”, which range from lustful to devout or faithful temperaments.

Additionally, there are the “6 Paramitas or Perfections”: generosity, morality, patience, effort, meditation and insight.

6 also refers to the “6 Realms of Rebirth”, ranging from gods to hell denizens.

All Buddhist laypersons have taken the “5 Precepts”. There are also the “5 Skandas or Aggregates”: form, feeling, sensation, volition and consciousness. Finally, there are the “5 Moral Sins”: killing one’s mother or father, killing an arahant, causing division in the sangha and wounding a Buddha.

The “4 Noble Truths” are the foundation of all Buddhist teachings. 4 also refers to the “4 Supreme Efforts”, regarding unwholesome and wholesome thoughts.

There are “4 Types of People with Realization”, beginning with the Stream Enterer and ending with the arahant. There are also “4 Types of Reincarnation”, through which one enters the cycle of rebirth.

Finally, the “4 Brahma Viharas” of loving-kindness, compassion, sympathetic joy and equanimity are key meditative practices. The positive qualities of each state of mind radiates outwards towards oneself, then to one’s family, the local community, and eventually to all beings in the universe.

The number 3 strikes me as the most important of all in the various compilations, so I’ve included more references to it than any other number. Most all of us have taken the “3 Refuges” in the Buddha, the Dharma and the Sangha. These are also collectively known as the Triple Gem or the Triratna.

3 also refers to the triloka or the “3 Worlds” or the “3 Realms” of existence. These are the Desire Realm, the Form Realm and the Formless Realm.

All Buddhas manifest themselves in “3 Bodies” or the Trikaya: the Truth Body, the Body of Bliss and the Emanation Body.

There are “3 Roots of Evil”, namely greed, hatred and delusion. All negative states of consciousness are ultimately grounded in one or more of these.

The “3 Characteristics of Existence” are suffering (dukkha), impermanence (anitya) and no permanent self (anatman).

Most of the above teachings are found within the “3 Baskets”, or the Tripitaka, of the traditional Buddhist canon.

Not to ignore Zen, there are the “3 Pillars of Zen”: the constituent elements of teaching, practice and enlightenment.

2 represents our mundane understanding of reality, as reflected in our focus on duality. There are also the ”2 Truths”, relative truth and absolute truth, the former referring to mundane reality and the latter to transcendental reality.

1 refers to “1 Mind”, a focused, undisturbed mind, concentrating on a single object. 1 also refers to the one person whose birth into the world is for the welfare of many folk, a Tathagata.

Perhaps most important of all of these numbers is another manifestation of 1, namely each of you. Within each person in this room is a not yet fully realized Buddha nature, to which all of the other numbers mentioned here today ultimately point.

How History Was Unmade At Nalanda!

Response published in Kafila by DN Jha to Arun Shourie's How history was made up at Nalanda:

Ruins of Nalanda University

I was amused to read  ‘How History was Made up at Nalanda’ by Arun Shourie who has dished out to readers his ignorance masquerading as knowledge –  reason enough to have pity on him and sympathy for his readers! Since he has referred to me by name and has  charged  me with fudging evidence to distort the historical narrative of the destruction of  the ancient Nalandamahavihar,  I consider it necessary to rebut his allegations and set the record straight instead of ignoring his balderdash.

My presentation at the Indian History Congress in 2006 (and not 2004 as stated by Shourie), to which he refers, was not devoted to the destruction of ancient Nalanda per se – his account misleads  readers and pulls wool over their eyes.  It was in fact focused on the antagonism between the Brahmins and Buddhists  for which I drew on different kinds of evidence including myths and traditions. In this context I cited the tradition recorded in the 18th century Tibetan  text, Pag-sam-jon-zang by Sumpa Khan-Po Yece Pal Jor,mentioned by B N S Yadava in his Society and Culture in Northern India in the Twelfth Century (p.346) with due acknowledgement, though in his pettiness, Shourie is quick to discover plagiarism on my part! I may add that “Hindu fanatics” are not my words but  Yadav’s which is why they are in quotes. How sad that one has to point this out to a Magsaysay awardee journalist!

In his conceit Shourie is disdainful and dismissive of the Tibetan tradition which, has certain elements of miracle in it, as recorded in the text. Here is the relevant extract from Sumpa’s work cited by Shourie : “While a religious  sermon was being delivered in the temple that he [Kakut Siddha] had erected at Nalanda, a few young monks threw washing water at two Tirthika beggars. (The Buddhists used to designate the Hindus by the term Tirthika). The beggars being angry, set fire on the three shrines of Dharmaganja, the Buddhist University of Nalanda, viz.— Ratna Sagara, Ratna Ranjaka including the nine-storeyed temple called Ratnodadhi which contained the library of sacred books” (p.92). Shourie questions how the two beggars could go from building to building to “burn down the entire, huge, scattered complex.” Look at another  passage (abridged by me in the following paragraph) from the History of Buddhism in India written by another Tibetan monk and scholar Taranatha in the 17th century:

During the consecration of the  temple built by Kakutsiddha at Nalendra [Nalanda] “the young naughty sramanas threw slops at the two tirthika beggars andkept them pressed inside door panels and set ferocious dogs on them”. Angered by this, one of them went on arranging for their livelihood and the other sat in a deep pit and “engaged himself in surya sadhana” [solar worship] , first for nine years and then for three more years and having thus “acquired mantrasiddhi” he “performed a sacrifice and scattered the charmed ashes all around” which   “immediately resulted in a miraculously produced fire”, consuming  all the eighty four temples and the scriptures some of which, however, were saved by water flowing from an upper floor of the nine storey Ratnodadhi temple. (History of Buddhism in India, English tr. Lama Chimpa & Alka Chattopadhyaya, summary of pp.141-42).

If we look at the two narratives closely, they are similar. The role of the Tirthikas and their miraculous fire causing a conflagration are common to both. Admittedly one does not have to take the miracles literally but it is not justified to ignore  their importance as part of  traditions which gain in strength over time and become part of collective memory of the community. Nor is it desirable or defensible   to disregard the element of long standing antagonism between the Brahmins and Buddhists which may have given rise to the Tibetan tradition and nurtured it till as late as the 18th century or even later.  It is in the context of this Buddhist-Tirthika  animosity that the account of Sumpa assumes importance; it also makes sense because it jibes with Taranatha’s evidence. Further, neither Sumpa, nor  Taranatha,  ever came to India. This should mean that the idea of Brahminical hostility to the religion of the Buddha  traveled to Tibet fairly early and became part of its Buddhist tradition, and found expression in the 17th-18th  century Tibetan writings.  Acceptance or rejection of this kind of source-criticism is welcome if it comes from a professional historian and but not  from someone who flirts with history as Shourie does.

Of the two Tibetan traditions, the one  referred to by me  has been given credence not only by Yadava (whom Shourie, in his ignorance,  dubs a Marxist!) but a number of other Indian scholars like R K Mookerji (Education in Ancient India), Sukumar Dutt (Buddhist Monks and Monsteries of India), Buddha Prakash (Aspects of Indian History and Civilization),  and S C Vidyabhushana who interprets the text to say that it refers to an actual “scuffle between the Buddhsit and Brahmanical mendicants and the latter, being infuriated, propitiated the Sun god for twelve years, performed a fire- sacrifice and threw the living embers and ashes from the sacrificial pit into the Buddhist temples which eventually destroyed the great library at Nalanda called Ratnodadhi”  (History of Indian Logic, p516 as cited by D R Patil, The Antiquarian Remains in Bihar, p.327). Scholars named above were all polymaths of unimpeachable academic honesty and integrity. They had nothing to do, even remotely, with Marxism: which is, to Shourie in his bull avatar, a red rag.

Now juxtapose the Tibetan tradition with  the contemporary account in the Tabaqat-i-Nasiri of Minhaj-i -Siraj, which Shourie not only misinterprets but also blows out of proportion. Although its testimony has no bearing on my argument about Brahmanical intolerance, a word needs to be said about it so as to expose his “false knowledge”, which as G B Shaw said, is “more dangerous than ignorance.” The famous passage from this text reads  exactly as follows:

“He [ Bakhtiyar Khalji] used to carry his depredations into those parts and that country until he organized an attack upon the fortified city of Bihar. Trustworthy persons have related on this wise, that he advanced to the gateway of  the fortress of Bihar with two hundred horsemen in defensive armour, and suddenly attacked the place. There were two brothers of Farghanah, men of learning,  one Nizamu-ud-Din, the other Samsam-ud-Din (by name) in the service of Muhammad-i-Bakht-yar ; and the author of this book [ Minhaj] met with at Lakhnawati in the year 641 H., and this account is from him. These two wise brothers were soldiers among that band of holy warriors when they reached the gateway of the fortress and began the attack, at which time Muhammad-i-Bakhtiyar, by the force of his intrepidity, threw himself into the postern of the gateway of the place, and they captured the fortress and acquired great booty. The greater number of inhabitants of that place were Brahmans, and the whole of those Brahmans had their heads shaven; and they were all slain. There were a great number of books there; and, when all these books came under the  observation of the Musalmans, they summoned a  number of Hindus  that they might give them information respecting the import of those books; but the whole of the Hindus were killed. On becoming acquainted (with the contents of the books), it was found that the whole of that fortress and  city was a college, and in the Hindui tongue, they call a college Bihar” (Tabaqat-i-Nasiri, English tr. H G Raverty, pp.551-52).

The above account mentions the fortress of Bihar as the target of Bakhtiyar’s attack. The fortified monastery which Bakhtiyar  captured  was, “known as Audand-Bihar or Odandapura-vihara” (Odantapuri in Biharsharif then known simply as Bihar). This is the view of many historians but, most importantly, of Jadunath Sarkar, the high priest of communal historiography in India (History of Begal, vol. 2,  pp.3-4). Minhaj does not refer to Nalanda at all: he  merely speaks of the ransacking of the “fortress of Bihar” (hisar-i-Bihar). But how can Shourie be satisfied unless Bakhtiyar is shown to have sacked Nalanda? Since Bakhtiyar was leading plundering expeditions in the region of Magadha, Shourie thinks that  Nalanda must have been destroyed by him – and, magically, he finds ‘evidence’ in an account which does not even speak of the place. Thus an important historical testimony becomes the victim of his anti-Muslim prejudice. In his zeal, he  fudges and concocts  historical evidence and ignores the fact that Bakhtiyar did not go to Nalanda; it “escaped the main fury of the Muslim conquest because it lay not on the main route from Delhi to Bengal but needed a separate expedition” (A S Altekar in Introduction to Roerich’s Biography of Dharmasvamin).  Also, a few years after Bakhtiyar’s sack of Odantapuri, when the Tibetan monk Dharmasvamin visited Nalanda in 1234, he “found some buildings unscathed” in which some pandits and monks resided and received  instruction from Mahapandita Rahulshribhadra. In fact, Bakhtiyar seems to have proceeded from Biharshrif  to Nadia in Bengal through the hills and jungles of the region of Jharkhand, which, incidentally, finds first mention in an inscription of 1295 AD (Comprehensive History of India, vol IV, pt. I, p.601).  I may add that his whole book, Eminent Historians, from which the article under reference is excerpted, abounds in instances of cavalier attitude to historical evidence and peddles a perverse perception of the Indian past.

It is neither possible nor necessary to deny that the Islamic invaders conquered parts of Bihar and Bengal and destroyed the famous universities in the region. But Shourie’s laboured effort to associate Bakhtiyar Khalji with the destruction and burning of the university of Nalanda is a glaring example of the wilful distortion of history. Certainly week-end historians like Shourie and others of his ilk are always free to falsify historical data but this only reveals the lack of any serious historical training.

Shourie had raised a huge controversy by publishing his scandalous and slanderous Eminent Historians in 1998 during the NDA regime and now, after sixteen years, he has issued its second edition. He appears and reappears in the historian’s avatar when the BJP comes to power, tries to please his masters and keeps waiting for crumbs to fall from their table. His view of the past is no different from that of the Vishwa Hindu Parishad, Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh and their numerous outfits consisting of riffraff and goons who burn books that do not endorse their view, vandalize art objects which they consider blasphemous, present a distorted view of Indian history, and nurture a culture of intolerance. These elements demanded my arrest when my work on beef eating was published, and censured  James Laine when his book on Shivaji came out. It is not unlikely that Shourie functions in perfect harmony with them and persons like Dina Nath Batra  who targeted  A  K Ramanujan’s essay emphasizing the diversity of the Ramayana tradition; Wendy Doniger’s writings, which  provided an alternative view of Hinduism; Megha Kumar’s work on communalism and sexual violence in Ahmedabad since 1969;  and Sekhar Bandopadhyaya’s textbook on modern India which does not eulogize the RSS.

Arun Shourie seems to have inaugurated a fresh round of battle by reproducing in a second edition his faked, falsified and fabricated historical evidence, thus providing grist to the reactionary mill of Batras and their ilk.

D N Jha is Former Professor and Chair, Department of History, University of Delhi. His important publications include Early India and The Myth of the Holy Cow.

How history was made up at Nalanda

An interesting Opinion by Arun Shourie in The Indian Express:

“The mine of learning, honoured Nalanda” — that is how the 16th-17th century Tibetan historian, Taranath, referred to the university at Nalanda. At the time I-tsing was at the university, there were 3,700 monks. The total complex had around 10,000 residents. The structures housing the university were as splendid and as extensive as the learning they housed. When excavations began, the principal mound alone was about 1,400 feet by 400 feet. Hieun Tsang recounts at least seven monasteries and eight halls. The monasteries were of several storeys, and there was a library complex of three buildings, one of them nine storeys high.

As the Islamic invaders advanced through Afghanistan and northwestern India, they exterminated Buddhist clergy, they pillaged and pulverised every Buddhist structure — the very word “but”, the idols they so feverishly destroyed, was derived from “Buddha”. Nalanda escaped their attention for a while — in part because it was not on the main routes. But soon enough, the marauders arrived, and struck the fatal blow. The ransacking is described in the contemporary Tabakat-i-Nasiri by Maulana Minhaj-ud-din.

Minhaj-ud-din rose and came to the notice of the rulers of the time — Qutb-ud-din Aibak and others — because of his raids and depredations, and because of the enormous booty he gathered, booty sufficient for him to set himself up as a plunderer in his own right. “His reputation reached Sultan (Malik) Qutb-ud-din, who despatched a robe of distinction to him, and showed him honour,” the historian writes. With its high wall, its large buildings, Nalanda seemed like a well-endowed fortress to Ikhtiyar-ud-din and his force. He advanced upon it with two hundred horsemen “and suddenly attacked the place”. Minhaj-ud-din continues,
“The greater number of inhabitants of that place were Brahmans, and the whole of those Brahmans had their heads shaven, and they were all slain. There were a great number of books there; and when all these books came under the observation of the Musalmans, they summoned a number of Hindus that they might give them information respecting the import of those books; but the whole of the Hindus had been killed. On being acquainted (with the contents of the books), it was found that the whole of that fortress and city was a college, and in the Hindu tongue, they call a college, Bihar [vihara].”

“When that victory was effected,” Minhaj-ud-din reports, “Muhammad-i-Bakhtiyar returned with great booty, and came to the presence of the beneficent sultan, Qutb-ud-din I-bak, and received great honour and distinction…” — so much so that other nobles at the court became jealous. All this happened around the year 1197 AD.

And now the Marxist account of the destruction of this jewel of knowledge. In 2004, D.N. Jha was the president of the Indian History Congress. In the presidential address he delivered — one to which we shall turn as an example of Marxist “scholarship” — this is the account he gives of the destruction of Buddhist viharas, and of Nalanda in particular:

“A Tibetan tradition has it that the Kalacuri King Karna (11th century) destroyed many Buddhist temples and monasteries in Magadha, and the Tibetan text  Pag Sam Jon Zang refers to the burning of the library of Nalanda by some ‘Hindu fanatics’.”

“Hindu fanatics”? The expression struck me as odd. A Tibetan text of the 18th century using so current an expression as “Hindu fanatics”? Especially so because, on Jha’s own reckoning, Hinduism is an invention of the British in the late 19th century? So, what is this “Tibetan text”? What does it say? Had Jha looked it up?
Pag Sam Jon Zang was written by Sumpa Khan-Po Yece Pal Jor. The author lived in 1704-88: that is, 500 years after the destruction of Nalanda.

That is the first thing that strikes one: our historian disregards the contemporaneous account, Tabakat-i-Nasiri, and opts for a text written 500 years after the event. But had he read the text at all? Could a self-respecting Marxist have at all believed what is written in it?

This is how Sarat Chandra Das, the translator and editor of Pag Sam Jon Zang, sets out the account of the destruction of Nalanda as given in this text:

“While a religious sermon was being delivered in the temple that he (Kakuta Sidha, a minister of a king of Magadha) had erected at Nalanda, a few young monks threw washing water at two Tirthika beggars. The beggars being angry, set fire on the three shrines of dharma ganja, the Buddhist university of Nalanda — that is, Ratna Sagara, Ratna Ranjaka including the nine-storey building called Ratnadadhi which contained the library of sacred books” (pg 92).

Two beggars could go from building to building of that huge campus and, with all the monks present, burn down the entire, huge, scattered complex?

And, the account of the relevant passage reproduced above is the one set out by Sarat Chandra Das in his Index. That is, it is just a summary of the actual passage — in an index, it scarcely could be more. What does the relevant section, and in particular the passage about the burning down of the library, say?

The author is giving an account of how Dharma has survived three rounds of destructive attempts. One round was occasioned by the fluctuating relations between Khunimamasta, a king of Taksig (Turkistan?), and Dharma Chandra, a king of Nyi-og in the east. The latter sends gifts. The former thinks these are part of black magic. He, therefore, swoops down from “dhurukha” and destroys “the three bases” of Magadha — monasteries, scriptures and stupas. Khunimamasta drives out and exiles the monks. Dharma Chandra’s uncle sends many scholars to China to spread the teaching. He receives gold as thanksgiving. He uses this and other gifts to appease rulers of smaller kingdoms to join the fight against the king of Taksig (Turkistan?). The uncle thereafter revives “the three bases”. Almost all the shrines are restored and 84 new ones are built. And so, the dharma survives.

In the next round, “the teacher who taught prajnaparamita for 20 years is assassinated by burglars from dhurukha. His blood turned into milk and many flowers emerged from his body. (Thus) he flew into the sky.”
We now come to the crucial passage, the one that Jha has ostensibly invoked. I reproduce the translation of it by Geshe Dorji Damdul in full:

“Again at that time, there was a scholar by the name Mutita Bhadra, who was greatly involved in renovating and building stupas. Eventually he had a vision of Bodhisattva Samantabhadra. He flew to Liyul by holding the garment (of Bodhisattva Samantabhadra) and there he made great contributions to the welfare of sentient beings and the Dharma. Reviving the Dharma that way, the Dharma flourished for 40 years in the Central Land (Magadha?). At that time, during the celebration over the construction of a shrine in Nalanda by Kakutasita, a minister of the king, some naughty novice monks splashed (dish) washing water on two non-Buddhist beggars and also pressed (the two) in-between the door and (the door frame.) Angry over these gestures, one (beggar) served as the attendant to the other who sat in a deep pit for 12 years to gain the sidhi of the sun. Having achieved the sidhi, they threw ashes of a fire puja (havan) they did, on 84 Buddhist shrines. They were all burned. Particularly, when the three dharma ganja of Nalanda — the shrines which sheltered the scriptures — as well got consumed in fire, streams of water ran down from the scriptures of Guhyasamaja and Prajnaparamita, which were housed in the ninth storey of the Ratnadhati shrine. This saved many scriptures. Later, fearing penalty from the king, the two (beggars) escaped to Hasama in the north. However, the two died due to immolation, which happened on its own.”

Surely, no self-respecting Marxist could have made his account rest on not just one miracle — acquiring sidhis and raining fire on to the structures — but two, for we also have the streams of water running down from the scriptures.

But we strain unnecessarily. There is a clue in Jha’s lecture itself. He doesn’t cite the Tibetan text, he does what Marxists do: he cites another Marxist citing the Tibetan text! To see what he does, you must read the lines carefully. This is what we saw Jha saying:

“A Tibetan tradition has it that the Kalacuri King Karna (11th century) destroyed many Buddhist temples and monasteries in Magadha, and the Tibetan text Pag Sam Jon Zang refers to the burning of the library of Nalanda by some ‘Hindu fanatics’.”

As his authority, Jha cites a book by B.N.S. Yadava, Society and Culture in Northern India in the Twelfth Century. What did Yadava himself write? Here it is: “Further, the Tibetan tradition informs us that Kalacuri Karna (11th century) destroyed many Buddhist temples and monasteries in Magadha.”

Jha has clearly lifted what Yadava wrote word for word — at least he has been faithful to his source. But in the very next sentence, Yadava had gone on to say: “It is very difficult to say anything as to how far this account may be correct.”

Words that Jha conveniently left out!

Yadava had continued, “However, we get some other references to persecution.”

He cited two inscriptions and a Puranic reference. And then came to the Tibetan text. Recall what Jha wrote about this text: “…and the Tibetan text Pag Sam Jon Zang refers to the burning of the library of Nalanda by some ‘Hindu fanatics’.”

And now turn to what Yadava wrote about this very text: “The Tibetan text Pag Sam Jon Zang contains a [I am leaving out a word] tradition of the burning of the library of Nalanda by some Hindu fanatics.”

Close enough to pass for plagiarism? But wait, there is originality! Notice, first, that two Hindu beggars have become “Hindu fanatics”. Notice, next, that the words “Hindu fanatics” that Jha had put in quotation marks as if they were the words that the author of the Tibetan text had used to describe the arsonists, were actually the words of his fellow Marxist, Yadava. But the best clue is the word that I omitted from what Yadava had actually written. Yadava’s full sentence was as follows: “The Tibetan text Pag Sam Jon Zang contains a doubtful tradition of the burning of the library of Nalanda by some Hindu fanatics.”

Just as he had left out the words, “It is very difficult to say anything as to how far this account may be correct,” Jha now leaves out the word “doubtful”. And all this in the presidential address to the Indian History Congress.

In a word, l There is a Tibetan text written five hundred years after the destruction of Nalanda l Sarat Chandra Das annotates it, and includes in his Index a summary in English of a passage in the text
— the summary naturally leaves out telling components of the original passage
l Yadava looks only at the summary in the Index — “non-Buddhist beggars” becomes “Hindu fanatics”
l Yadava notes that the account is based on a “doubtful tradition”
l Jha omits the word “doubtful”
l And we have a presidential address to the Indian History Congress!

Given what we have seen of Marxist historians even in this brief book, the brazen-faced distortions — to the point of falsehood — do not surprise me.

What does surprise me is that no one looked up either the source that Jha had cited or the text.

Indeed, in concluding his section, Yadava had stated:

“A great blow to Buddhism was, no doubt, rendered by the Turkish invasions, leading to the destruction and desertion of the celebrated Buddhist monasteries of Magadha and Bengal. Many Buddhist scholars fled to Tibet and Nepal.”

The writer, a former Rajya Sabha MP from the BJP, was Union minister for communications, information technology and disinvestment. This article has been excerpted from his book, ‘Eminent Historians: Their Technology, Their Line, Their Fraud’, published by HarperCollins India.