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Pacific
Rim Report No. 36, December 2004
When Christianity and Lamaism Met: The Changing Fortunes of Early
Western Missionaries in Tibet
by Hsiao-ting Lin
Hsiao-ting Lin, a native of Taiwan, received his doctoral degree
from the Faculty of Oriental Studies, University of Oxford, where
he also held an appointment as tutor in modern Chinese history.
In 2003-04 he was a Postdoctoral Fellow at the Center for Chinese
Studies, University of California at Berkeley. In 2004 he
was a Kiriyama Fellow at the University of San Francisco Center
for the Pacific Rim.
He is currently a stipendiary Visiting Scholar at the Hoover
Institution, Stanford University, where he undertakes research
based on the newly declassified T. V. Soong Papers and Kuomintang
Archives there. Lin's academic interests include ethnopolitics
and minority issues in Greater China, history of modern China's
Central Asian peripheries, and the PRC's border security and
strategy. He received the 2002 Royal Asiatic Society's Barwis-Holliday
Award for his article, "The
1934 Chinese Mission to Tibet: A Re-examination." His articles
have appeared in many international journals in the United States,
Britain, Australia, Canada, and Taiwan.
Lin is completing a book-length project, tentatively entitled
Power Struggles, State Building, and Imagined Sovereignty:
Tibet in Nationalist China's Ethnopolitics and Frontier Intrigues,
1928-1949.
We gratefully acknowledge The Kiriyama Chair for Pacific Rim Studies
at the USF Center for the Pacific Rim that has made possible the
publication of this issue of Pacific Rim Report.

The study of Western missionary activity in Tibet and the interactions
between Christianity and Tibetan Buddhism (otherwise known as Lamaism)
is as yet a relatively ignored topic in Chinese-Western cultural
history. For decades, Chinese histories on this topic have interpreted
modern and early modern era Western missionary activities in the
Tibetan region as further evidence of the West's 'imperialist designs'
on Chinese territory. From a Sino-centric perspective, the eventual 'failure'
of Western missionaries to establish a solid religious base in
Tibet and nearby regions serves as a clear demonstration of the
Tibetan people's 'anti-imperialist' and 'patriotic' proclivities
vis-à-vis foreign encroachments. Other works attribute the
meteoric and temporary nature of the Christian phenomenon in Lamaist
Tibet to the incompatibility of the two religions in doctrinal,
ritual, and intellectual terms.1
Indeed, in past centuries Western missionaries time and again
took the perilous and time-consuming journey to the forbidden kingdom
at the roof of the world, only to be frustrated by the poor number
of native converts, to be expelled from the area, or even to be
killed or to die. But at different stages of Tibetan history secular
rulers and religious leaders such as the Dalai Lama have been eager
to protect Western missionaries and their tasks of preaching Christian
beliefs to the local Tibetans.
What motivated the Tibetan high authorities to support missionary
activities in their Lamaist realms during our period? And what
were the key factors that lead to the eventual withdrawal of Western
missionaries from Tibet? Further, what are the implications of
the early encounter between Christianity and Lamaism in terms of
a macro-historical perspective on Tibetan history? This paper seeks
to answer such questions first by tracing the history of Western
missionary activities in Tibet from the 1620s through the eve of
the collapse of the Qing dynasty, and then by contextualizing the
above questions in the broader historical, religious, and socio-political
contexts of early modern and modern Tibetan society.
The Jesuits and Their Missionary Enterprises in the Guge Kingdom
The first Western missionary known to have reached Lhasa was the
Jesuit Father Antonio de Andrade. By 1601 King Philip III of Spain
and the Pope in Rome were both feverish about exploring Cathay
(China) and reclaiming for the Church the peoples "lying between
India and Cathay." Their grandiose scheme did not materialize until
the 1620s, when Antonio de Andrade, then Portuguese Superior of
the Jesuit Mogul mission at Goa on the west coast of the Indian
subcontinent, decided to launch an adventure to China, traveling
overland by Kashmir and Tibet. In early 1624, accompanied by Fratello
Manuel Marques, a remarkable lay brother who subsequently figured
prominently in the exploration of western Tibet, Andrade set out
from the Mogul imperial court at Agra in north India on a reconnaissance
tour of Tibet. By the autumn of 1624, after an arduous journey
across the Himalayan crest, Andrade and Marques reached Tsaparang
on the Upper Sutlej River. Tsaparang was then the seat of Guge,
a historic Lamaist kingdom whose territory covered approximately
the present-day Gartok district of west Tibet.2
The first encounter between the Western missionaries and the Tibetans
seemed an auspicious one. The Tibetans greeted Andrade and Marques
with surprising friendliness. During the course of their meeting,
the king and queen of Guge consented to daily religious lessons
and gratefully received from the Jesuits an image of the Virgin
and Child. So impressed was this petty monarch with Andrade that
on the eve of his departing for Goa, before the mountain passes
would be closed by winter snows in late 1624, he insisted that
the missionary return the following year. In a letter to this effect,
the king (Kri-bKra-Sis-grags-pa-lde), also promised to protect
them on their way back to north India. Andrade arrived back in
Goa in early 1625 where he wrote up his experiences for the benefit
of the Jesuit Provincial. In his analysis Andrade felt the court
of Guge provided a particularly good environment for propagating
the faith. So well did Andrade make his case that before long,
three additional priests were named to join him in establishing
a permanent mission at Tsaparang.3
By August 1625 Andrade, Marques, and Father Gonzales de Sousa
arrived in Tsaparang again as an advance contingent to open the
mission. They began to construct a permanent church on Easter Day
of the very next year for which the king of Guge himself had donated
the necessary funds and had officiated at the cornerstone ceremony.
Before the new church was completed, the remaining priests arrived:
Fathers João de Oliveira, Alano dos Anjos and Francisco
Godinho. A branch mission was established soon afterwards in Rudok,
300 miles north of Tsaparang, run by the newly arrived priests.
According to the Jesuits' own account, by 1627 there were about
a hundred local converts in the Guge kingdom, including the queen,
the crown prince, and some other important royal members. Even
the king himself had pledged to Andrade that he might be baptized
in the near future.4 It became a marvel that the Jesuits were able
to establish a missionary foothold in the Gartok district, a place
that had a long tradition of following the Bon religion as well
as Lamaism.
Andrade may have looked upon Tsaparang as a gate to many other
Lamaist kingdoms in the Tibetan ethnic area. From Guge the Jesuits
probed both northward to Rudok and westward to Ladakh. Jesuit correspondence
also referred to mission activity as far north as Kashgar, in Chinese
Turkestan. Yet perhaps the most significant initiative taken by
Andrade and his fellows was that which led in 1626 to the establishment
of a Jesuit outpost at Shigatse, then the seat of the Tsang kingdom.
The betrothal of a daughter of the king of Tsang with the crown
prince of Guge may have offered Andrade, who was maintaining cordial
friendship with the Guge royals, a possibility to further his missionary
task in Shigatse.5 In the summer of 1626 Andrade reported to Goa
that he had received a royal decree and a letter of invitation
from Tsang's monarch. In early 1628, at Andrade's request and recommendation,
Fathers Estevão Cacella and João Cabral undertook
the journey from Goa to Tsang. Cacella and Cabral made their strenuous
journey from north India across the Himalayas to Shigatse, where
they were warmly received by Karma Tenkyong, then ruler of Tsang.
When meeting with his unusual Jesuit guests, the friendly Karma
Tenkyong gave permission to the friars to propagate Christianity
within his Lamaist domain and generously provided the priests with
handsome stipends so that they could sustain their daily necessities
and carry on their work in Shigatse. The supportive king of Tsang
even approved Cacella's bold suggestion that a new route be developed
connecting Shigatse and north India with a view to facilitating
the possible flourishing of missionary activities.6
Christianity and Tibetan Politics
Why were the rulers of these Lamaist kingdoms so enthusiastic
about introducing the Christian belief into their realms? What
prompted their compliance with and courtesy towards the Jesuits?
There may well have been strong political motivation behind the
support of missionary enterprises by the Tibetan monarchs and their
courts. At the time Andrade and Marques had reached Tsaparang,
the king of Guge was plagued with increasingly unruly and obstinate
monastic communities in his domain. The whole situation worsened
when this monastic upheaval was clandestinely encouraged by the
king's own family members. By the early 1620s the Yellow Hat reformists,
known more formally as the Gelugpa sect of Lamaism, had the upper
hand not only in Guge, but also widely in the whole of Tibet. With
the growing numbers of Yellow Hat adherents throughout Guge, the
monastics were able to extract considerable resources from their
followers. For instance, as Chief Lama the king's brother had long
antagonized the king by taking the best of Tsaparang's young men
for the Gelugpa monasteries, thereby depriving the army of their
services. Predictably, the king perceived such activities as a
potential threat to his secular rulership. The Chief Lama's rapidly
increasing income further suggested that the Gelugpa sector was
likely to become one of the wealthiest groups within the kingdom.7
The king of Guge eagerly accepted Christianity as an offsetting
religious influence to dilute the thriving Gelugpa and to counterbalance
his potential rivals and consolidate his position. On various occasions
the king openly championed the cause of Andrade. He not only allowed
the Jesuits to preach at the court, but further proclaimed that
privileges and preferences be showered upon the missionaries. The
king meanwhile had wasted no time in defaming the Lamaist teachings
and showing his growing resentment of the Yellow Hat lamas; he
even tacitly allowed the Jesuits to attack Lamaism by conducting
public debates between the two sides.8 The priests' open criticism
of Lamaism, made possible by their escalating power in the court,
was in part responsible for the fall from favor of the king's brother
and the monastic authorities he represented. A political storm
was brewing in Guge that threatened its very existence.
By the late 1620s the king's brother had become so fiercely jealous
of Andrade's increasing reputation that he initiated a secret plot
to expel Christian influence from the kingdom. While the Jesuits
found gratification in the king's help, including financial subsidization,
and were moved by visible testimony of royal sympathy, they failed
to sense in time the growing public resentment whipped up by the
disgruntled lamas. It was inevitable that the blatant royal favor
shown to the alien mission would inflame the monastic communities
and lead ultimately to a clash with the Jesuits. In 1630 much of
the strength and momentum of the Tsaparang mission was lost when
Andrade left to take up new duties as Provincial at Goa. He had
been the mission's driving force and continuing inspiration. Without
him Jesuit influence could hardly be sustained. So when the king
fell ill later in that year, the dissident Yellow Hat lamas, led
by the king's brother, saw their chance. With help and secret encouragement
from the king of neighboring Ladakh, the seething clergy and warrior
monks rose against the throne.9
The result of the 1630 turmoil in Guge was a disaster not only
to the king and his family, but also to the Jesuits. The king,
the queen, and other high royals were imprisoned and were then 'escorted'
to Leh and never heard of again. A prince from the court of Ladakh
became the de facto ruler of Guge, which indicated that Guge was
no longer an independent kingdom and was henceforth under the suzerainty
of Ladakh. The Christian converts of Guge also suffered at the
hands of the revengeful lamas. Many were carried off by force to
Ladakh as slaves. The church and properties at Tsaparang and Rudok
were sacked, and five Jesuits in residence at the time of the assault
became virtual prisoners of the intruding Ladakhis.
In Goa Andrade's response to the catastrophe was to send his former
colleague at Tsaparang, Father Francis de Azevado, to investigate.
Azevado arrived in Tsaparang in the summer of 1631 to find the
situation as bad as he had imagined--what was left of the Jesuit
mission was unable to serve the small community of converts. Azevado
then decided to approach the king of Ladakh in order to continue
evangelistic work and restore Jesuit footing in Guge. The king
of Ladakh eventually agreed to allow more priests to be sent to
Tsaparang from Goa. Yet the Jesuits were unable to restore their
previous prestige in Guge, particularly after the influential Andrade
died in 1634, followed by the deaths of two other priests en route
to their new post in Tsaparang. A last effort to reestablish the
mission in Guge collapsed in 1640, when a party of three new priests
was attacked as it entered Tibet before reaching Tsaparang and
was forced to retreat to India.10 In retrospect, but for the vagaries
of local politics, Guge might have become a Christian state. As
it turned out, no remaining trace of Christianity could be found
in western Tibet when the next Western travelers passed through
many years later. The brave efforts made by Andrade and his Jesuit
fellows seemed to have dissolved into thin air.
In the Tsang capital of Shigatse Jesuit activity unfolded in a
similar manner, with the arrival of the Western missionaries playing
into local religious and political intrigues. At the turn of the
seventeenth century, religious wars had created serious strains
on Tibetan unity. Although by the 1620s the reformist Gelugpa Sect
had the upper hand in most of the Tibetan region, the old Karmapa
Sect still dominated in some parts of southern Tibet, such as Shigatse
and the Tsang area.11 When Fathers Cacella and Cabral reached Shigatse
on January 20, 1628, tension was rising between the Karmapa and
the Gelugpa. In order to consolidate their status vis-à-vis
the omnipresent Gelugpa monastic communities, both King Karma Tenkyong
of Tsang and his Karmapa patrons thought it would serve their interests
to introduce the Jesuits and their Christian beliefs to counteract
their powerful rivals in most parts of Tibet. From the very start
of Cacella and Cabral's period in Shigatse, Karma Tenkyong had
displayed enthusiasm about the Jesuit activities.
However, in spite of the favorable atmosphere for the Jesuits,
no solid missionary base was ever established in Shigatse. Historical
sources are too fragmented to allow a definite conclusion to be
drawn as to why the Jesuits eventually left the Tsang kingdom.
Nevertheless, according to correspondence between Cacella and his
superiors at Goa, we do know that the 1630 revolt in Guge and the
resultant collapse of the Jesuit missionary footings in that kingdom
forced the Jesuits to seriously reconsider the feasibility of building
a stable Christian settlement in this Lamaist realm. Their final
analysis was obviously not optimistic.12 In spite of Karma Tenkyong's
zealous anticipation of Cacella and Cabral staying in Tsang a bit
longer to create a possible permanent Shigatse mission, the two
priests were extremely reluctant about the king's proposal. In
1632 they were finally recalled by Goa, and the short-lived mission
in Shigatse was abandoned.
The Capuchins in a Relatively Unified Tibetan Kingdom
The commencement of the eighteenth century witnessed more direct
communication between Tibet and Western missionaries than has existed
either before or since. In 1708 four Capuchin friars, having first
founded a mission station near Kathmandu, Nepal, boldly made their
way via Gyantse to Lhasa, where they were well received by Lhazang
Khan, who was ruling over a relatively unified Tibet. By claiming
themselves to be 'medical doctors' who were coming to help the
Tibetans voluntarily, the Capuchins sought the ruler's favor. For
reasons still unknown to us, Lhazang Khan eventually decided to
allow the friars to stay in Lhasa. Yet the Capuchins' clandestine
missionary enterprise in the forbidden kingdom did not go smoothly.
After three years of voluntary work in Lhasa without financial
support either from Rome or the Tibetan court, the Capuchins were
reduced almost to starvation, and, unable to sustain themselves
any longer, they were forced to temporarily abandon their mission
in 1711.13
The mission to Tibet was revived, however, after some effort was
made in Rome by the adventurous and ambitious Father Domenico da
Fano. In 1715, equipped with sufficient stipends, twelve priests
were reallocated to the Tibetan branch mission, four of whom were
to be stationed at Lhasa, and the rest in Nepal and north India.
These outposts of Roman Catholic missionaries survived until the
1740s despite the hostility of the Tibetan lamas and the superstitions
of the Tibetan people, who were always ready to attribute disasters
to the devices of the missionaries.
Yet it was under the protection of both the Tibetan secular rulers
and the great religious prelates, such as the Seventh Dalai Lama,
that the Capuchins were able to overtly launch their missionary
tasks. On arrival in Lhasa Domenico da Fano, together with his
fellow Capuchins, delivered to Lhazang Khan a letter from Pope
Clement XI, in which the Vatican authorities expressed their gratitude
to the king of Tibet if the latter would generously allow the Holy
Faith to be propagated in the Lamaist kingdom. Presumably in order
to counterbalance the hostile theocratic influence of the Gelugpa
Sect as well as to exploit the mathematical talent of the Westerners,
Lhazang Khan immediately consented to the friars' request to stay,
permitting the Capuchins to preach to the Tibetan ruling nobles
and high officials. The Tibetan ruler issued permissive decrees
in favor of the Capuchins, stamped on yellow satin with the confirmatory
seal of the Celestial Emperor. He also generously allowed the Capuchins
to establish their own missionary settlement in the capital of
Tibet, a move that seemed against the Tibetan tradition of prohibiting
Westerners to purchase property in the sacred land.14
The Capuchin activities in Lhasa were soon overshadowed by the
Mongolian invasion of Tibet in 1717. As the year began the Mongols
on the northern steppe conspired with the Tibetan Yellow Hat lamas
with a view to overthrowing Lhazang Khan's secular leadership.
In the face of the Mongolian intrusion, the unprepared king of
Tibet was only halfheartedly supported by his Tibetan auxiliaries.
Although Lhazang Khan did appeal to the distant Qing court in Peking,
his Manchu overlords were unable to respond immediately, or to
send troops to come to his rescue. Lhazang Khan was killed later
in 1717 as the Mongols sacked Lhasa. During this tumultuous period
the Capuchins in Tibet held on precariously. At one point the brethren
even wrote to the king of neighboring Sikkim in the Himalayas,
inquiring if they might take refuge there.15
However, matters seemed to take a favorable turn after Qing troops
came and pacified Tibet in 1720-21. The Manchus reorganized the
Tibetan secular government, confirming a prestigious Tibetan noble
called Kanchenas as the new ruler of the Lamaist kingdom. The Manchus
also escorted the Seventh Dalai Lama from Kokonor back to Lhasa
and established him as a purely religious leader. Both Kanchenas
and the Dalai Lama were impressed by the Capuchins' survival, who
by their efforts to do good and their medical skills had convinced
those in authority in Lhasa that their labors were beneficial and
worthy of being protected. The Capuchin Fathers were allowed to
continue preaching Christianity to the Tibetan nobles and commoners,
and were frequently invited to the court to debate with the high
Buddhist lamas concerning the theoretical differences between their
respective beliefs.
Although neither Kanchenas nor the young Seventh Dalai Lama were
entirely enamored of the faith that the Capuchins had endeavored
to propagate, they nevertheless generously supported the missionary
enterprise in Tibet. For example, Kanchenas ordered the Capuchins
to translate the Christian teaching into the Tibetan language so
that more and more lamas would be able to study it. In 1725 Kanchenas
officially granted permission to the Capuchins to erect their own
mission house and chapel in Lhasa and even gave a site for the
buildings. Although the Gelugpa monks wasted no time stirring up
their followers to oppose Kanchenas' decision, they had very limited
success. The friendly attitude of the king of Tibet towards Christianity
remained steadfast, and in response to the Lamaist antagonism towards
the Capuchins he issued a proclamation making it a penal offence
to injure the missionaries or damage their property. When the small
church and mission house were eventually completed in the fall
of 1726, it was alleged that the new establishment was even visited
by some "grand lamas of Lhasa," who exclaimed that "Your God is
in truth a great god."16
In 1727 Tibet encountered yet another crisis that shook the unity
of the kingdom. The Manchus generally mistrusted Tibetan lamas
and monks due to their previous conspiracy with the Mongols. So,
after 1720 and under Qing patronage, Tibetan administrative officials
became predominantly secular. By the late 1720s, however, Tibetan
secular officials were embroiled in personal feuds and divided
by political and religious factions. Kanchenas repeatedly pointed
out the benefit of a unified Tibetan administration but failed
to reconcile the various factions. The internal disputes and power
struggles eventually came to a head in the summer of 1727 when
an anti-Manchu faction murdered Kanchenas and took over control
of Lhasa. The rival group, led by a Gartok Tibetan noble named
Polhanas, immediately struck back. By an impressive feat of political
and logistical organization, Polhanas first took control of the
Tsang area, then, in July 1728 Polhanas's forces confronted Lhasa
and slaughtered the rebels. The Manchu forces and officials immediately
confirmed Polhanas' status as new ruler of Tibet after they returned
to Lhasa in late 1728.17
Polhanas, like his predecessor Kanchenas, took a liberal stance
vis-à-vis Tibet's religious issues. He promised to compensate
the Capuchins for their losses during the civil war, ordering the
protection of their mission house and church in Lhasa. Polhanas
himself also frequented the church and talked with the priests,
whose main task at this stage was to translate various Western
works into Tibetan. Yet before long, financial troubles haunted
the missionaries once more, and by 1729 only two friars were left
in Tibet. Polhanas had offered to provide the Capuchins with sufficient
funds to procure necessities, and suggested that the Fathers, who
had a considerable medical practice among the people, should charge
fees for their advice and medicine. Yet both these offers seemed
to have been declined by the missionaries on the grounds that it
was against their principles to be in any way supported by non-Christians.
By 1733 financial problems drove the Capuchins out of Lhasa, and
the mission in Tibet was once again obliged to close.18
For the seven years between 1733 and 1740 the Lhasa mission was
deserted and no Capuchin monks remained in Tibet or Nepal. But
representations made in Rome by Father Orazio della Penna, who
since 1725 had been Prefect of the Lhasa Mission and had stayed
there until 1733, eventually had an effect, and the Pope himself
became interested in the revival of the mission. Equipped with
sufficient financial resources, Della Penna and nine Capuchin brethren
started for the East in 1738, bearing with them presents from the
Pope of Rome to Polhanas and the Dalai Lama. In early 1741 the
Capuchins reached Lhasa and took up their old quarters, which appeared
to them to have been well preserved. Almost all the chief Lhasa
officials and nobles, including Polhanas, the Seventh Dalai Lama's
family members, and the Qing Resident (recently posted after the
1728 coup), welcomed them. The assurance from the highest echelons
of the Tibetan authorities that they would endeavor to protect
the missionary activities, along with an increased number of local
Tibetan converts, greatly encouraged the returning friars. In late
1741 Father Gioachino da San Anatolia, who shared the honor of
the longest service in Tibet with Orazio della Penna, was dispatched
back to Europe to inform the Vatican authorities of the safe arrival
of his band of missionaries in Lhasa and to bring friendly replies
to the Pope's letter from the Dalai Lama and the king of Tibet.19
However, it would appear that about the time that Gioachino reached
Rome, persecution of the Capuchins broke out in Lhasa. The jealous
Tibetan monastic community viewed the open patronage of the missionaries
by Polhanas and other highly placed secular officials with increasingly
intolerable disfavor. The tension increased until one day in May
1742 when several hundred furious Gelugpa lamas invaded the royal
palace and upbraided Polhanas for his partiality. The Tibetan ruler,
terrified of meeting the same fate as his unfortunate predecessors,
immediately declared that the Capuchin priests had fallen from
his favor. The frightened king of Tibet also forbade the missionaries
from preaching Christianity in the country, except to outside traders.
The Tibetan government further ordered that local converts be hunted
down, placed in Chinese wooden collars (cangue), and flogged. Tremendously
frustrated by this turn of events, the Capuchin fathers began to
realize that the time had arrived for them to abandon their work.
A momentary compromise was reached between the Capuchins and the
Lhasa authorities when Polhanas reluctantly allowed the priests
to preach only on condition that they should declare Tibetan Buddhism
to abound in goodness and perfection. The friars lingered on in
Lhasa for another two and a half years until April 1745 when the
valiant Father Orazio della Penna finally acknowledged himself
beaten, and resolved to abandon the mission.20
The Shifting Social and Political Environment in Tibet
The 1750s saw considerable change in Tibet's political and social
environment. When Polhanas died in 1747, his son Gyurmey Namgyal
succeeded him as the new ruler. Yet unlike his father, who favored
the policy of maintaining close connections with the Qing court,
Gyurmey Namgyal took an anti-Manchu stance and secretly conspired
with the Mongols in order to end Qing influence in his kingdom.
In 1750 the Qing Resident, convinced that Gyurmey Namgyal was intent
upon rebellion, decided to take steps to eliminate him. He lured
the young king to his residence and murdered him with his own hands.
The Manchu Resident was killed soon afterwards by Gyurmey Namgyal's
followers, and Lhasa was once again thrown into disorder. On hearing
of the rebellion, the Qing court at Peking immediately sent troops.
After quelling the rebels in Lhasa, the Manchus once again reorganized
the Tibetan government and this time endeavored to abolish hereditary
rule by secular aristocracy. The Seventh Dalai Lama, whose influence
hitherto was largely religious, was now invested with both spiritual
and temporal authority. In the meantime, the power of the Qing
Residents in Tibet was greatly increased and they supervised the
Tibetan administration more closely than before. The Qing Emperor
also resolved to regain complete control of the mail stages to
Tibet and never to allow the Manchu garrison at Lhasa to fall bellow
1,500 men.21
This shift of internal political structure to a large extent contributed
to the rapid development of the manorial and serfdom systems in
Tibet. As the Dalai Lama was empowered as the supreme figure in
both political and religious terms, the Gelugpa Sect that the Dalai
Lama's lineage represented was also elevated to a unique and unchallengeable
status among the Tibetan people. Previously, lay aristocrats had
been able to control substantial human and social resources, but
now a substantial number of Buddhist monasteries and their incarnated
lamas also began to possess manorial estates, arable land, and 'bound'
labor forces. The appearance of this dual politico-religious system
in Tibet led to local monasteries serving concurrently as powerful
political arbitrators who exercised judicial powers and exacted
taxes from followers.22 Each Gelugpa monastery gradually became
a self-sufficient unit, with hundreds of thousands of monks, presided
over by an incarnated lama. Great monasteries controlled enormous
estates comprised of manors and pastures and worked by serfs, with
the surrounding regions inhabited by nomads. The lamas had their
own courts and prisons, and often organized their own militias
and possessed thousands of guns and horses.23
A close 'patron-priest' relationship developed when the Gelugpa
monastic sector colluded with the native chieftain system. Great
monasteries usually dispatched high-ranking lamas to participate
in the political institutions administered by local chieftains
and Tibetan tribal headmen, whose status was conferred by the Qing
authorities and who enjoyed a high degree of autonomy at the local
level. Likewise, native chieftains and tribal leaders frequently
sent their close relatives, usually one of their sons, to the monasteries
to become monks so that they might have an influence over monastic
affairs. Moreover, by becoming the patrons of monasteries, native
chieftains and tribal leaders would distribute their assets, money
and other financial resources to the monasteries, in exchange for
the latter's theocratic support in consolidating political domination
in their areas of control.24
From the mid-eighteenth century on political, financial, and social
resources were concentrated in the hands of the anti-Christian
Gelugpa monastic sector and its political patrons. In this climate
Western missionaries inevitably found it extremely difficult to
establish a footing in Tibet. Whereas their predecessor brethren
were able to maintain cordial relations with the Tibetan rulers
and to propagate their faith, albeit with limited achievements,
subsequent Western missionaries in the latter half of the nineteenth
century encountered greater difficulties during the course of their
work. These later missionaries gradually became aware that their
properties and lives were exposed to great danger.
The Fate of Western Missionaries in Tibet
Two fathers of the Paris Foreign Mission Society named Krich and
Bourry were the first Western priests known to have been murdered
in Tibet. In 1854 they traveled from Tachienlu, the strategic city
on the Tibetan-Sichuan border where the Mission Society was headquartered,
to Lhasa, with a view to restoring the old missionary settlement
that had been suspended since Father Orazio della Penna's era a
century earlier. Their grandiose plan was presumably inspired and
encouraged by the Qing court's recent decree allowing Western missionaries
to purchase lands and construct churches in Chinese provinces.
Yet long before reaching Lhasa, they were allegedly murdered en
route by tribal peoples in eastern Tibet. This incident was followed
by similar reports in the next two decades of at least ten other
lower-ranking priests of the Paris Foreign Mission Society being
killed or injured during their journeys to other missionary outposts
in the Sino-Tibetan borderlands.25
In 1881 Father Brieux, then head of the Paris Foreign Mission
Society in Batang in eastern Tibet, was reported to have been murdered
on his way to Lhasa. This time the Qing court was determined to
make proper investigations in order to prevent the misfortune from
becoming a diplomatic controversy between China and France. Officials
from Peking were soon dispatched to Sichuan and Tibet to investigate
the event. In the first instance these officials believed what
the local Tibetan leaders and chieftains had claimed about Father
Brieux, namely that he, like unfortunates before him, was murdered
accidentally by 'unruly' and 'uncivilized' tribal inhabitants for
the purpose of stealing their money and other valuable property.
After a detailed survey, however, Qing officials were surprised
to discover that these murder cases were in fact covertly supported
and even orchestrated by local lamaseries and native chieftains.
Obviously feeling threatened by the considerable increase in the
number of new Christian converts in eastern Tibet,26 as well as
by the imperial decree allowing the missionaries to openly purchase
and possess land, the lamaistic monastic communities and their
political patrons felt the need to take drastic measures to secure
their religious, financial, and political interests. Furious at
the involvement of lamaseries and native chieftains in murdering
the French missionary, Qing officials severely punished the accused
monks and native chieftains in the Batang district. For the purpose
of maintaining peace and order in the region a Qing garrison was
immediately stationed on the route connecting Sichuan and Tibet
proper. Meanwhile, the Manchu high officials in Peking also reassured
Western powers that they were determined to protect missionary
activities in southwest China, hoping in this way to acquire European
understanding concerning the Brieux case.
The Qing government's overtures to the Westerners, along with
its highhanded policy towards religious issues in southwest China,
had caused bitter resentment among Tibetan monastic communities
and native chieftains. Their hatred was exacerbated when, at the
end of 1904, the new Manchu Assistant Resident to Tibet, Feng Quan,
arrived at Batang on his way to the stronghold of Chamdo. One of
the new Assistant Resident's urgent tasks was to further the Qing
court's effective control over Tibet and the adjacent southwest
Chinese borderlands, and his policy was to gradually abolish the
hereditary native-chieftain system and to curtail the influence
of the Gelugpa Sect. Feng Quan prohibited Tibetan monasteries from
accepting new lama recruits for a period of twenty years. He also
ordered the protection of Western missionaries and their churches,
whose position had been augmented as a result of their recent success
in obtaining part of the land originally belonging to local Gelugpa
monasteries. The local French priests welcomed Feng Quan's project,
viewing the Qing reform in southwest China as an opportunity for
them to extend their religious influence further westward into
Tibet proper.27
Indignation over Feng Quan and the Christian presence escalated
to a climax in March 1905, when thousands of the Batang lamas revolted,
killing Feng, his entourage, local Manchu and Han Chinese officials,
and the local French Catholic priests. The revolt soon spread to
other cities in eastern Tibet, such as Chamdo, Litang and Nyarong,
and at one point almost spilled over into neighboring Sichuan Province.
The missionary stations and churches in these areas were burned
and destroyed by the angry Gelugpa monks and local chieftains.
Dozens of local Westerners, including at least four priests, were
killed or fatally wounded. The scale of the rebellion was so tremendous
that only when panicked Qing authorities hurriedly sent 2,000 troops
from Sichuan to pacify the mobs did the revolt gradually came to
an end.28 The lamasery authorities and local native chieftains'
hostility towards the Western missionaries in Tibet lingered through
the last throes of the Manchu dynasty and into the Republican period.
Conclusion
What are the implications of the encounter between Christianity
and Lamaism in terms of broader historical, political, and social
contexts? This research suggests that the history of Western missionaries
in Tibet can be basically divided into two main stages, with the
1750s as a watershed. Before the mid-eighteenth century, religious
and political sectors in Tibet basically functioned separately.
Religious dignitaries such as the Chief Lama of the powerful Gelugpa
Sect in the Guge kingdom, or the Dalai Lama and his monastery in
Tibet proper, did not dominate political and military affairs.
But from time to time secular rulers and lay officials in Lamaist
realms had to take precautions against monastic influences threatening
their positions. Set against this backdrop, when the Jesuits and
the Capuchins arrived, secular rulers tended to seize the opportunity
and utilize Christianity as leverage to counterbalance the strong
Lamaist influence as well as the increasingly powerful Gelugpa
Sect and its monks. As a result of these local political intrigues
in Tibet, the Western missionaries were inadvertently given a chance
to spread their faith in the otherwise 'forbidden land' whose rulers
even allowed their guests to purchase lands and build missions
in their realms. Any failures or successes on the part of the missionaries
in Tibet cannot be divorced from the internal power struggles in
Tibet at that time.
At the turn of the eighteenth century, the political, societal,
and religious structures in Tibet began to fundamentally transform.
With direct Qing involvement resulting from both the Mongolian
invasion and internal instability, hereditary secular ruling lineages
in Tibet were gradually abolished, and after the civil war in the
early 1750s the Dalai Lama was invested with both religious and
secular authority by the Manchus. Now the Dalai Lama, and the Gelugpa
Sect he represented, achieved a unique and unchallengeable status
among the Tibetans. Social, financial, and land resources were
gathered and concentrated in their hands as the result of the newly
formed politico-religious system. This turn of events had huge
impacts upon subsequent missionary enterprises in Tibet. To the
dominant Gelugpa Sect, the conversion of the Tibetans to Christianity
implied abandoning faith in the Dalai Lama and numerous other incarnated
lamas who were also political leaders and chiefs. The development
of the manorial system, operated and backed by the monastic communities,
came to mean that any involvement by Christian church authorities
in Tibetan society would be resisted because as more Tibetans were
converted to Christianity, monastic income would decrease. Father
Brieux's case indicates that the murders of Western missionaries
in the latter half of the nineteenth century may often have been
orchestrated by local lamaseries and their political patrons. Lamas
and native chieftains felt so threatened by the Westerners that
they lashed out against and even killed Qing high officials in
the region that attempted to facilitate the missionary presence.
When reviewing the encounters between Christianity and Lamaism
we should not overlook the fact that both the Jesuits and the Capuchins
had momentarily succeeded in building their mission bases in Tibet
and had maintained cordial relationships with Tibetan secular rulers.
While the temporary triumph of the Christians' presence in a Lamaist
realm is interesting to note, perhaps more significant are the
reasons for such a phenomenon. Clearly, the 'standard' Chinese
historical narratives that interpret the killing of foreign priests
by the Tibetan lamas from the latter half of the nineteenth century
onward as clear evidence of the Tibetan people's 'anti-imperialist'
and patriotic behavior are inaccurate understandings of the genuine
motivations of the people involved. It was neither 'anti-imperialism'
nor 'patriotism' that led the Tibetans to expel the Western missionaries,
but rather the fact that Tibetan religious and political figures
were desperate to prevent any possible intrusion into their local
interests and privileges by Christian authorities.
ENDNOTES
1. See, for example,
Zeng Wenqiong, "Qingdai Woguo Xinang Zangqu di Fanyangjiao Douzheng
ji qi Tedian", in Xizang Yanjiu (Lhasa), 1985, No. 4,
pp. 47-56; Fan Jiancang, "Xizang Jidujiao shi", Xizang
Yanjiu, 1990, No. 1,
pp. 87-100. [RETURN TO TEXT]
2. Graham
Sanderg, The Exploration of Tibet: History
and Particulars (Delhi:
Cosmo Publications, 1973), pp. 23-26; Thomas Holdich, Tibet,
The Mysterious (London: Alston Rivers Ltd., 1906), p. 70. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
3. Sir Edward Maclagan,
The Jesuits and The Great Mogul (London: Burns, Oates & Washbourne
Ltd., 1932), pp. 344-345. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
4. Lettera del
P. Alano Dos Anjos al Provinciale di Goa, 10 Novembre 1627, quoted
from Wu Kunming, Zaoqi Chuanjiaoshi jin Zang
Huodongshi (Beijing:
Zhongguo Zangxue chubanshe, 1992), p. 163. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
5. Filippo de
Filippi ed., An Account of Tibet, the Travels
of Ippolito Desideri of Pistoia, S.J., 1712-1727 (London: George Routledge & Sons
Ltd., 1937), p. 7. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
6. Extensively
using Italian and Portuguese archival materials, Wu's work gives
a detailed account of Cacella's activities in Tsang. See Zaoqi
Chuanjiaoshi jin Zang Huodongshi, esp. chapter 5. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
7. Sven Hedin,
Trans-Himalaya, Discoveries and Adventures
in Tibet (London: Macmillan & Co
Ltd., 1913), Vol. III, pp. 304-309. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
8. Lettera del
P. Antonio de Andrade. Giov de Oliveira. Alano Dos Anjos al Provinciale
di Goa, 29 Agosto, 1627, quoted from Wu, Zaoqi
Chuanjiaoshi jin Zang Huodongshi, p. 196; Maclagan, The
Jesuits and The Great Mogul,
pp. 347-348. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
9. Cornelius
Wessels, Early Jesuit Travellers in Central
Asia, 1603-1721 (The
Hague: Nijhoff, 1924), pp. 80-85. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
10. Maclagan,
The Jesuits and The Great Mogul, pp. 349-352; Filippo de Filippi
ed., An Account of Tibet, pp. 13-17. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
11. Tsepon W. D. Shakabpa,
Tibet: A Political History (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1967),
pp. 108-116. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
12. Relação
da Missão do Reino de Uçangue Cabeça dos do
Potente, Escrita pello P. João Cabral da Comp. de Jesu.
fol. 1, quoted from Wu, Zaoqi Chuanjiaoshi
jin Zang Huodongshi,
pp. 294-297; Wang Yonghong, "Luelun Tianzhujiao zai Xizang di Zaoqi
Huodong", Xizang Yanjiu, 1989, No. 3, pp. 62-63. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
13. Holdich,
Tibet, The Mysterious, p. 76. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
14. Sanderg,
The Exploration of Tibet, pp. 38-39; Warren W. Smith, Jr., Tibetan
Nation: A History of Tibetan Nationalism and Sino-Tibetan Relations (Boulder, Colorado: Westview Press, 1996), pp. 122-123. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
15. Fulgentius
Vannini, The Bell of Lhasa (Agra, India: Capuchin Ashram, 1976),
pp. 197-200. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
16. Sanderg,
The Exploration of Tibet, pp. 40-46; Vannini, The
Bell of Lhasa,
pp. 229-230. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
17. Luciano
Petech, China and Tibet in the Early XVIIIth
Century (Leiden: E.
J. Brill, 1972), pp. 105-110. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
18. Wu, Zaoqi Chuanjiaoshi
jin Zang Huodongshi, pp. 435-455; Vannini, The
Bell of Lhasa, pp.
245-265. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
19. Sanderg,
The Exploration of Tibet, pp. 96-98; Wu, Zaoqi
Chuanjiaoshi jin Zang Huodongshi, pp. 463-478. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
20. Holdich,
Tibet, The Mysterious, pp. 84-86; Vannini, The
Bell of Lhasa, pp.
405-408. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
21. Tsepon W. D. Shakabpa,
Tibet: A Political History (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1967),
pp. 140-152. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
22. Dorje Tsaidam ed., Xizang
Jingji Jianshi (Beijing: Zhongguo Zangxue chubanshe, 1995), pp.
19-38. On the Tibetan manorial system, see also Melvyn C. Goldstein,
A History of Modern Tibet, 1913-1951: The
Demise of the Lamaist State (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1989), pp. 3-6. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
23. Tashi Yongdzin, "Qiantan
Kangqu Dege Tusi yu Gaitu Guiliu", Zangxue
Yanjiu Luncong, Vol.
7 (1995), pp. 180-193. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
24. Kanze Zangzu Zizhizhou
Gaikuang (Chengdu: Sichuan minzu chubanshe, 1986), pp. 86-89.
[RETURN TO TEXT]
25. Yang Fuseng, Zhongguo
Jidujiao shi (Taipei: Taiwan Commercial Publishing Ltd., 1968),
p. 315; Sun Zihe, Xizang Shishi yu Renwu (Taipei: Taiwan
Commercial Publishing Ltd., 1995), p. 63. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
26. Taking Yanjing (Caka'lho)
on the Yunnan-Tibetan border for example, in the 1860s there were
already nearly 400 Tibetan converts, thanks to the energetic French
Mission Society in southwest China. See Liu Jun, "Kangqu Waiguo
Jiaohui Lanxi", Xizang Yanjiu, 1991, No. 1, p. 87. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
27. Eric Teichman, Travels
of a Consular Officer (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1922),
p. 20; Elliot Sperling, "The Chinese Venture in Kham, 1904-11,
and the Role of Chao Er-feng", Tibet Journal, Vol. 1,
No. 2 (1976), p. 13. [RETURN
TO TEXT]
28. S. A. M. Adshead, Province
and Politics in Late Imperial China: Viceregional Government in
Szechuan, 1898-1911 (London: Curzon Press, 1984), pp. 68-99;
Bao Luo and Ze Yong, "Yanjing Tianzhujiao Shilue", Xizang
Yanjiu, 2000,
No. 3, pp. 42-45. [RETURN TO
TEXT]
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