Mideast | Yezidis | Shambhala

Temple of the Yezidis in northern Iraq

Now it appears the Yezidis, practitioners of arguably the oldest religion in the world, are claiming that the Kings of Shambhala are actually a manifestation of their Peacock Angel:

In Tibet the Peacock Angel appears to be manifest as Amitibha, the peacock-riding dhyani buddha who sits upon his Peacock Throne in the heaven of Sukhavati and occasionally takes a physical incarnation as the King of the World in legendary Shambhala, the land of immortals that flies the Peacock Flag. Shambhala, meaning the “Place of happiness,” is a place designed as eight territories or “petals” and recognized to be the heart chakra of planet Earth. In the center of the planetary heart chakra is the palace of the King of Shambhala, who thus functions as not only planetary monarch but soul of the world (just as the human soul resides within the human heart chakra). According to one legend, the Peacock Angel not only spread his colors around the globe but additionally merged his spirit with that of the Earth and became the world soul. Thus, his physical body is the Earth and his will is reflected in the actions of all creatures that live upon the face of the Earth.

Peacock Angel of the Yezidis 

Shambhala

See The Truth about the Yezidis and also News about the Yezidis. As you no doubt already know Yezidis have Come Under Attack by Fundamentalist Jihadis in Iraq.

Also see Secrets of the Knights Templar and the Peacock Angel and Gurdjieff and Yezidism. You don’t need me to connect the dots here.

Mongolia | Links | Himalayan Art Resources

The Good Folks at Himalayan Art Resources have put up a page with Links to Many of My Blog Posts and Web Pages. Also see the Blog of Himalayan Art Cognoscente Jeff Watt.

Mongolia | Bogd Khan and Mongolian Independence

Whatever his Personal Peccadilloes, for almost a decade the Bogd Gegeen had persistently pursued the cause of Mongolian independence. As early as 1894 the Bogd Gegeen had sent a secret letter to St. Petersburg via one of his chief disciples, a man named Badamdorj, asking whether the Russian government would provide arms and other material aid in the event Mongolia staged an uprising against Manchu rule and established an independence state. He also queried whether Russia would send troops to assist in such an endeavor in the event they were needed. The Bogd Gegeen had his sights set high at the time, envisioned a new Pan-Mongolian state encompassing much of the old original Mongolian homeland. If the uprising succeeded, he wondered in his letter, “May we be allowed to rule the whole of the ancient Mongol territory, making the White Wall [Great Wall] stand as the frontier of Mongol territory?“ The Russians took the letter under advisement, agreeing to the Bogd’s proposals in theory but suggesting that the time was not yet right for an armed uprising. Better to wait until an obvious pretext or opportunity arose before taking any overt action, officials in St. Petersburg cautioned.

The pretext appeared to present itself in late 1908. On Nov. 8 the ineffectual thirty-seven year-old Qing emperor Guangxu died. He had suffered from a nervous condition so severe that loud noises made him ejaculate, and since 1898 he had been under house arrest by order of the Empress Dowager Cixi, his mother by adoption, who ruled in his stead. On the very next day the Dragon Lady Cixi, who had overseen the Qing Dynasty either as regent or power-behind-the-throne for forty-seven years, also transmigrated. The most lurid rumors surrounded the deaths. According to one Cixi had Guangxu strangled by her chief eunuch because she had a presentiment of her own death and did not want him to outlive her. Thus over the years she been accused of killing her first husband, her own son, her co-regent the Empress Cian, assorted by-standers, and now Guangxu, her adopted son. According to yet another rumor Cixi herself had been gruesomely dispatched by a bullet in the vagina by warlord Yuan Shikai. Most of these rumors have been dismissed by modern historians, but the very fact that that were so widely believed at the time demonstrates the Grand Guignol atmosphere which surrounded the the final days of the Qing Dynasty. The twelfth emperor of the Qing, little two-year old Pu Yi, was duly installed on the Dragon Throne on December 2, 1908, but by then hardly anyone believed the dynasty could survive.

In 1909 the Bogd Gegeen, sensing which way the wind was blowing in Qing China, issued the following decree to the Mongolian princes:

Now is the time to make firm our Mongol faith and church, to protect our territory and homeland; and to decide a policy for dwelling in long-lasting peace and happiness. Merely to sit still and let slip this opportunity would mean, far from dwelling in peace and happiness, that we should look upon all kinds of suffering and become unable to rule over our own land and territory . . . Let all of you lamas, princes, and officials consider well your own devices and promptly let me hear what each of you has thought and considered. It will not do for you to sit indifferent, obstructing the important affairs of all the pitiful Mongols who honor and respect your every word and humbly look up to you.

As he probably expected, his noble advisors threw the matter back into his lap. “What do we know? Whatever the Bogd thinks right and clearly instructs from on high and vouchsafes to us, that we shall duly carry out as a command to the best of our endeavor,” was their reply. The Bogd Gegeen promised them that at the following year’s Danshug (ceremonial festival) in Örgöö he would announce his plan of action for Mongolian independence. In the summer of 1910 all the great princes of the four aimags again assembled in Örgöö and asked for the Bogd’s decision. “The secrets of Heaven may not be revealed in advance,” he informed them, “but if all of you could confirm without fail that you would duly obey and fulfill whatever I say, I can make a policy.” This they did, presenting the Bogd with a document with all of their seals on it promising to take whatever course of action he suggested.

In July of 1911 the Mongolian aristocracy again assembled in Örgöö to make their annual offerings to the Bogd Gegeen. These out-of-town visitors usually camped just south of the Bogd’s palaces on the Tuul RIver, near the base of a hill which for this reason became known as Zaisan Tolgoi (Nobleman’s Hill). The issue of Mongolian independence was now at the fore. In a meeting with the Bogd Gegeen they asked, “Supposing the Ch’ing [Manchus] come with a punitive expedition,there are in Mongolia no arms and we have no military training or equipment.What shall we do?” The Bogd replied “If you have the will to set up a state and give our Mongolia peace and security, I will be responsible for making the Manchu troops go back.”

Zaisan Tolgoi, where the Mongol noblemen made offerings

Thus assured, they decided to at last declare the independence of Mongolia and make the Bogd Gegeen both the temporal and spiritual ruler of the new sovereign state. The Bogd also agreed to dispatch a three-man delegation to St. Peterburg to inform the Russians of their decision and to seek aid in the form of cash and weapons. When the Qing amban in Örgöö, a man named Sandoo, learned that the delegation had already left the city he sent twenty soldiers north to the border with Russia to intercept and arrest the delegates before the left Mongolia. They arrived too late, however, and the delegation managed to slip across the border. According to one report, Sandoo, “was almost out of his mind with anger” when he was eventually informed that the delegation had managed to reach St. Petersburg. The delegation arrived back in Örgöö with the news that the Russians were again advising caution, but had tentatively agreed to provide 15,000 rifles and 7.5 million rounds of ammunition in the event armed conflict broke out with the Manchus. Sandoo then sent a missive to the Bogd Gegeen threatening the death penalty for anyone seeking aid against the Qing from foreign powers. The Bogd Gegeen, no doubt aware that Sandoo did not have the wherewithal to carry out these threats, simply ignored the Qing amban.

Then came the October 10 Wushang Uprising in the Chinese city of Wuhan, after which dissident army officers proposed a new provisional government to be headed by Sun-Yat-sen. The Qing Dynasty, although not yet ruled dead, was in its death throes. Mongolia independence had already been declared and now the time had come to assert it. On the evening of November 18, 1911, the Bogd Gegeen sent a four man delegation to the office of Sandoo with a decree which read, “Sandoo amban and his officials and troops are ordered to leave the confines of Mongolia within three days. In the case of failure, troops will be utilized to drive them out . . .”A Russian living in Örgöö at the time reported that “when they read to the amban the decree of the gegeen, the amban was startled and fell back onto a chair and could not say anything for a long time.” It was no doubt hard for him to believe that 220 years of Qing rule in Mongolia was over.

Sandoo (1876–192?), the last Qing Amban in Öröö, was in fact part Mongolian, although he had been born, brought up, and educated in China. He had arrived in Örgöö to serve as amban on February or March of 1910. He was not an uncultured individual. He eventually wrote at least seven volumes of poetry and took a deep interest in the archeology and history of Mongolia. While in Mongolia he visited the stele of the Khökh Turk ruler Kultegin (685–731) in what is now Arkhangai Aimag. He apparently erected some kind of temple to commemorate the stele and etched a short inscription on its back side. He also visited the stele of Kultegin’s advisor Tonyukuk near the current day town of Nailakh, east of Ulaan Baatar, and made copies of the inscriptions, which he sent back to Beijing for the benefit of interested scholars.

His literary and scholarly interests could not, however, protect him from the rising anti-Manchu sentiments in Örgöô. Not long after his arrival in the city he attempted to intercede when a mob of Mongolian lamas attacked and looted the premises of the Chinese trading company Da I-Yu. The lamas pelted him with stones and he barely escaped with his life.

After receiving the Bogd Gegeen’s November 18 decree Sandoo dithered for twelve days, unwilling to abandon his post but bereft of support from Beijing. On November 30 a still more sternly worded ultimatum was handed to him. Scared out of his wits, Sandoo and attendant officials sought protection in the Russian Consulate. Most of the soldiers in the one hundred-man Qing garrison remaining in the city deserted. On December 4 Sandoo and his entourage, protected by an escort of Russian Cossacks, traveled north to Khyakhta and crossed the border into Russia. In Verkhneudinsk (now Ulaan-Ude) they caught a train back to Beijing.

Local bards were never slow in commenting on current affairs in Mongolia, and one immediately composed a song about the Amban’s expulsion which was then bawled out with glee in the city’s marketplaces and streets:

The stinky lanterns that twinkled every evening
Are burnt out
Where is gone the notorious amban
Who commanded the masses?

The lanterns refer to the street lights that Sandoo had introduced into Örgöö. Apparently they burned a smelly oil. Like the Örgöö amban himself they soon disappeared.

Nepal | Animal Sacrifices | Virtual Hugs

Glad to see that Tenpa at Tibetan Digital Altar and V. D. Konchug Norbu at Bitterroot Badger’s Bozeman Buddhist Blog have given each other a virtual hug by both calling attention to the Appalling Animal Sacrifices taking place in Nepal today and tomorrow. It will be remembered that when Sonam Gyatso, the Third Lama, Converted the Mongolian Altan Khan to Buddhism one of the first things he did was ban any more animal or human sacrifices by the Mongols:

Sonam Gyatso then delivered a discourse to the assembled throng. He implored them to give up the practice of human and animal sacrifices which so often accompanied the death of a important Mongol (Chingis Khan's own son Ögedai reportedly had forty "moon-faced virgins" and numerous horses and other livestock sacrificed in honor of his father's memory) and told them to destroy their ongghot, the shamanic idols which many Mongolians kept in their homes and worshipped. Instead of blood sacrifices he suggested that the Mongols offer part of the deceased possessions to temples and monasteries and offer prayers to the deceased. He also implored the Mongols not to conduct bloody raids on their neighbors, including the Chinese, the Tibetans, and other Mongol tribes, and instead try to live in peaceful coexistence with their neighbors. He also suggested they make prayers and conduct other religious practices on the days of the new, half, and full moons. Finally he taught them a meditation on Avalokiteshvara, the bodhisattva of compassion, and the accompanying six-syllable mantra Om Mani Padme Hum.

Mongolia | Örgöo | Eighth Bogd Gegeen

The last Bogd Gegeen to reign in Mongolia was the twenty-third incarnation of Javzandamba, the first of whom had been a disciple of the Buddha himself, and eighth in the line of the Bogd Gegeens of Mongolia established by Zanabazar. After the Mongolian uprising against the Qing in the mid-1750s, in which the Second Bogd Gegeen, the son of Zanabazar’s nephew, had played a role, the Qianlong Emperor had declared that henceforth all incarnations of Javsandamba must be found not in Mongolia but in Tibet, lest a Mongolian Bogd Gegeen become a rallying point for future Mongolian rebels. Thus the next six Bogd Gegeens, including the Eight, were Tibetan. The Eight was born in Lhasa in late 1869 or early 1870, the son of a wealthy official in the court of the 13th Dalai Lama. A caravan sent from Örgöö to Tibet to fetch him arrived back in the city with the little boy in tow on the morning of September 30, 1874.

In 1911, when he became the Bogd Khan, the ruler of newly independent Mongolia, he was forty-one years old. Even before his ascension to the throne of Mongolia his immense popularity had made him the de-facto leader of Mongolia. The Diluv Khutagt, who knew him personally, observed:

The reason why this Eighth Bogd had become notably more powerful and strong than previous Incarnations was, in addition to the fact that the Mongols universally, generation by generation, had believed in, honored, had faith in and reverenced each Incarnation of the Bogd as a true divinity, this Eighth Gegeen ever since childhood had been especially sharp and intelligent. Whenever in Khalkh, or in one of its districts there was any such fear or suffering as fire or flood, sickness or disaster, he knew it in advance and let it be known to give warning. In religious matters or ordinary affairs his directives were unfailingly clear and in accordance with the evidence, and when this had repeatedly become known he became famous for it and everyone had deep faith in him.

The Eighth Bogd Gegeen

Even as a young man he was regarded with awe by the Mongolian populace. The Diluv Khutagt: “At the age of eighteen, as the result of a serious illness, he lay dead . . . for three days and nights, and at the moment he stirred again there was no mark of the sickness and he was cured, and for such marvels as this the Mongols had complete faith and trust in him.” The Russian ethnologist A. M. Pozdneev, in Örgöö four years later, in 1892, observed: “Crowds of worshippers stretch toward the Khutukhu from all sides, and not only Khalkhas, but also southern Mongols as well . . . He was perhaps the only Mongolian personality known to all the generally illiterate and often apathetic Mongols throughout the land . . .”

There is no doubt he was a shrewd political operator. About the time of Pozdneev’s visit a certain Jün Van (nobleman) named Dorjpalam, from Setsen Khan Aimag to the east of Örgöö, filed several complaints again the Bogd Gegeen which were forwarded to the Manchu emperor in Beijing. The Bogd immediately answered in a missive to the Manchu representative in Örgöö:

Though I have done nothing that is damaging to the faith or the church, or that is wrong or harmful to all living beings, it has come to the point where on the word of one single man I am wrongly accused, and this because of my stupid incompetence has led to discrediting the reputation of previous generations of my incarnation. Therefore my petition is that first I should be removed as Javzandamba Khutagt, and then, if I am indicted and investigated, the faith of the Buddha in the land of Mongolia will not be belittled. It is not difficult to obtain the precise truth of this matter. All Khalkh Mongolia knows everything about all my affairs, and so if you ask the Heads of the Chuulgan [Leagues] and all the princes, they will freely explain. If the complete truth is not found in this matter, my regret will be infinite.

The Manchu emperor, faced with this ultimatum, issued a memorandum stating, “Assuage your regret and dwell in peace of mind. I have profound faith in the Khutagt.” To smooth his ruffled feathers the emperor also gifted the Bogd Gegeen “a nine-dragon canopy”—apparently a great honor—and had Dorjpalam stripped of his title. Dorjpalam eventually apologized to the Bogd, acknowledging his guilt in the matter, whereupon the Bogd successfully petitioned the emperor to have his title returned to him. According to the Diluv Khutagt:

After this the princes were overawed and afraid, and submitted in due form to any proclamation [from the Bogd]. Though here and there among the great princes and learned lamas there were one or two of doubtful faith, they were repressed by the prestige of the Bogd and since moreover all the Mongols detested such men, the result was that they could not come out into the open.

Thus the Bogd Gegeen gained the almost unqualified support of the common people, the nobles, and the lower and middle ranking monks. Only among the higher ranking monks did some objections remain, for example on the part of the Khamba Lama of Ikh Khüree, who in the heat of an argument the Bogd Gegeen had punched in the chest and whose assistant he had grabbed by the scruff of his neck and tossed out of the meeting room. Yet such men learned to keep quiet, since opponents of the Bogd Gegeen had an uncanny propensity for falling ill and dying for one reason or another.

The Eighth Bogd Gegeen's Winter Palace

There was a decidedly negative side of the Bogd Gegeen which would eventually become more and more manifest. As early as 1890, the Russian Consul in Örgöö was filing confidential dispatches to his superiors back in St. Petersburg about the Bogd Gegeen’s attempts “to free himself from the conventional restrictions prescribed for lamas and lead an independent life.” He also noted that the Bogd appeared in public while drunk and openly flirted with women, but added that most people had a very forgiving attitude toward such discretions. Pozdneev had intimations of trouble as far back as 1892. The Bogd’s face, noted the Russian traveler, was “unpleasant by virtue of some sort of childish willfulness and capricious stubbornness which is always present in it, and also from the lips, which are extraordinarily sensuous in their development.”

Other aspects of the Bogd Gegeen’s life did not appear to be in accord with his role as the Buddhist leader of Mongolia. He kept a wife, the famous beauty Dondovdulam, apparently in violation of his vows of celibacy as a Gelug monk, and when she died he took on yet another wife. He was also rumored to be involved in various homosexual liaisons, an inclination which had led to the downfall of his predecessor, the Seventh Bogd Gegeen. Pozdneev pointed out his predilection for young lamas “distinguished only their inclination and ability to carouse.” One of his male consorts had died in mysterious circumstances, according to Bazaar gossip poisoned on orders from the Bogd Gegeen himself. And there seems little doubt that he was a hard-core alcoholic. Even the Diluv Khutagt, who held the Bogd in great respect, felt compelled to comment on this:

The Bogd was very hard to do business with because he was such a fearful drinker. He would sometimes sit cross-legged for a week drinking steadily night and day. The officials attending him would be changed frequently, but he would go on drinking, never lying down to sleep and never moving except to go out to the toilet. At times he would seem to be completely unconscious, with his head lying on his chest; he would seem not to understand anything that was said to him; then he would raise his head and demand another drink, and the new drink would seem to sober him up so that he could conduct business. Even after a bout like this he would not sleep except in naps of two or three hours at a time. Yet he was a very able politician and kept control of things within the limits of his rapidly vanishing power. By 1920 he had become practically blind.

As Pozdneev noted however, “. . . the Gegen’s carousing did not in any way lessen his charm as far as the people were concerned; [they] looked upon his every eccentricity as something mysterious and tried to explain his every exploit in his favor on the basis of their sacred books . . .” (to be continued . . .)

Entrance to the Winter Palace Complex

Mongolia | Zaisan Tolgoi | Moon Cycles

The Waxing Sickle Moon has been presenting an absolutely gorgeous spectacle as it slides by Jupiter each evening before sinking behind Öndör Gegeenii Uul just south of my hovel in Zaisan Tolgoi. The Full Cold Moon, or Unduvap Poya Moon, as it is known to Buddhists, is coming up on December 2, and I predict it will be a dilly. We are in the midst of an extremely auspicious lunar cycle. At such times Portals to Shambhala have been known to appear in the strangest places . . .

Graphic courtesy of Sky & Telescope

Mongolia | Life and Death of Ja Lama | Chapter 2

Who was Dambijantsan?

A Buddhist monk; a freedom fighter for Mongolian independence; the descendant of Amursanaa (1723–1757), the Western Mongol who led the last great uprising against the Qing Dynasty of China; the incarnation of Mahakala, the Buddhist god of war; bandit, torturer, murderer, or evil incarnate? During his lifetime no one was sure who he really was, and even today the controversy about his life continues.

Born in what is now the Republic of Kalmykia, part of the Russian Federation, Dambijantsen traveled throughout Tibet, India, and China before arriving in Mongolia in 1890 where he tossed gold coins to bystanders and announced to one and all that he had come to free Mongolia from the yoke of the Qing Dynasty of China. After disappearing almost twenty years he returned to lead the attack on Khovd City, the last Chinese outpost in Mongolia. Honored by the Eighth Bogd Gegeen, the theocratic leader of Mongolia, for his efforts in achieving Mongolian independence, he went on to establish his own mini-state in western Mongolia, which he hoped to use as a base for establishing a Mongol-led Buddhist khanate in Inner Asia. His dictatorial nature and unbridled sadism soon came to the fore and he was finally arrested and imprisoned in Russia. After the Russian Revolution he returned to Mongolia, gathered new followers around him, and established a stronghold at the nexus of old caravan routes in Gansu Province, China. He robbed caravans, grew opium, and once again dreamed of creating a new Mongolian khanate in Inner Asia. Finally the new Bolshevik government in Mongolia, fearful of his rising power, issued orders for his assassination. Dambijantsan died in 1922, but in Mongolia legends persist to this day that his spirit still rides on the wind of the Gobi and continues to haunt his former lairs.

For more on Dambijantsan see False Lama of Mongolia: The Life and Death of Dambijantsan. 

Turkey | Istanbul | Jahongir Ashurov | More Miniatures

Couldn’t resist adding a couple more miniatures from the Jahongir Ashurov Show now taking place in Istanbul. The first is apparently one of the favorites of Peony, who has a wonderful post up about, among other things, Orhan Pamuk’s novel My Name Is Red, which of course deals with the whole subject of miniatures.
Miniature by Jahongir Ashurov:

Musician

Detail of Musician

The second one I cannot resist because it portrays camels, for which I have a Soft Spot in my heart.

Camels

I ask you, who cannot help but Love Camels?

Turkey | Istanbul | Beyoglu

Not having found any trace of a Portal to Shambhala in the Sultanahmed Area, the old historical core of Istanbul, I decided to check out of my hotel and move over to the Beyoglu District on the other side of the Golden Horn. As I mentioned earlier, the old tekke of the Mevlevi Whirling Dervishes is in this area. Gunj, my host in Istanbul, was kind enough to take time off from her incessant labors on the behalf of Central Asian Artists and accompany me. Any journey with Gunj when she has free time entails a lot of stops along the way to smell the roses, or in this case, taste a fish sandwich at the famous water-side outdoor restaurants near the Galata Bridge where the fish are actually cooked on boats tied up alongside the dock.

View from near Galata Bridge

Fish restaurants near the Galata Bridge. Fish are cooked on the boats and served shore side.

Gunj at the Galata Bridge

The Golden Horn with the Süleymaniye Mosque at the upper left

The fish sandwich was just an appetizer. Having crossed the Galata Bridge to Beyoglu we stopped at another one of Gunj’s favorite restaurants, the historic Tarihi Karaköy Balik Loksantasi, for the next course—Fish Soup.

Then we climbed up the steep cobblestone streets of Beyoglu to the Galata Tower . . .

. . . where we had tea and dessert at this charming outdoor cafe.

Finally we arrived the Hotel Londres, Gunj’s favorite hostelry in all of Istanbul. This place is dripping with history. It was founded in 1892, one of the first European-style hotels to service travelers arriving on the Orient Express, the first non-stop version of which reached Istanbul from Paris in June of 1889. Although the hotel has been remodeled several times it still retains a lot of its nineteenth-century features. The doors to the rooms and the locks may well be the originals. Over the years many famous people have frequented the hotel, including Ernest Hemingday and more recently Gunj, who celebrated one of her birthdays here. I half-expect to see Peter Lorre simpering in a dark corner of the lobby.

Peter Lorre. If he didn’t stay at the Hotel Londres he should have.

Just down the street from the Hotel Londres is the equally famous Pera Palace Hotel, also founded in 1892. According to legend, Agatha Christie wrote Murder on the Orient Express in Room 411 of the hotel. The room is still available, if you desperately need an Agatha Christie fix.

Lobby of the Hotel Londres

Gunj lighting up the Hotel Londres Lobby with her luminious presence.

Gunj deciding the fate of some hitherto unknown Central Asian artist.

Hemingway no doubt bellied up to this very bar. The bartender may still be contemplating his order.

Staircase in the Hotel leading to the Rooftop Cafe

Gunj relaxing from her otherwise relentless labors at her favorite table in the Rooftop Cafe of the Hotel Londres.

Sunset over the Golden Horn from the rooftop cafe of the Hotel Londres. Along with the Pyramids of Egypt and Zaisan Tolgoi in Ulaan Baatar surely one of the world’s most stunning vistas.

Turkey | Istanbul | Jahongir Ashurov | Miniatures

Finally managed to track down the peripatetic Gunj, who has been busier than a bee in a clover patch organizing an Istanbul show for Bukhara-based Uzbek miniaturist Jahongir Ashurov.

Gunj (right) and Friend

We eventually retired to the Gulluoglu Baklava Shop near the shores of the Bosphorus Strait, which according to Gunj has the best Baklava in Istanbul if not the world. The exhibition, I am informed, will open on November 16, with a reception at 5:00 PM and run through Nov. 26, which means that if you book airplane tickets now you will just be able to make the opening scene, which should be a real lalapalooza. Expect rivers of raki to flow. The show will be at the Yildiz Sarayi, which is an old Ottoman palace at Barbaros Bulvari, Besiktas, in Istanbul. I suggest you stay at the Grand Hotel Londres in Beyoglu, that is if you can get reservations, since the place is usually booked up tighter than a tick in a hound dog’s ear.

Here is a sampling of the miniatures which will be on display, and for sale:

Miniature of famous philosopher and doctor Ibn-i Sina, alias Avicenna (980–1037).

Tears running down Ibn-i Sina’s face. They are both tears of joy because he has just discovered a new medicinal plant and tears of sadness, since he discovered the plant too late to cure the illness from which his son died.

For a good introduction to Ibn-i Sina’s thought see:

For a good biography see:

I have both of these items in my Scriptorium and can recommend them highly if you want to get up to speed on Ibn-i Sina.

Fellow Bibliophile reading a bookDetail of Fellow Bibliophile
Lovely Bibliophile. I don’t doubt that she has a fantastic Scriptorium.
Amir Timur, a.k.a. Tamerlane leading his horse by the Tomb of the saint Turk-i Candi (a.k.a Turki Jandi) in Bukhara. He dismounted to show respect to the saint. By the way, the Saint’s Tomb still exists and can be seen in Bukhara. Don’t miss it the next time you’re in Uzbekistan.

Out of respect for Turk-i Candi Tamerlane also wrapped up the hooves of his horse so they would not make so much noise while he was passing by the tomb.

Lady with Hanky
Detail of Lady with Hanky
Bathing Girl
Detail of Bathing Girl
Peeping Tom watching Bathing Girl
A Naughty Demon trying on the Bathing Beauty’s boots
Faces in Rocks

This is just a brief sampling of the many miniatures which will be on display. Pop over to Istanbul to see more . . .

Turkey | Istanbul | Caravanserais | Shambhala

Update: If you are unfortunate enough to be in New York City you can swing by the American Museum of Natural History for their new Silk Road Exhibition, which features several of the places listed below, including Xian and Turpan.

From the Sultanahmed Koftesi I walked up Divan Yolu and turned right at Constantine’s Column onto Vezirhani Street. This neighborhood, which includes the Grand Bazaar, is the repository of many old hans, or caravanerserais, which offered lodging and warehousing to foreign merchants and traders, some of whom plied the Silk Road. Istanbul was of course the western terminus of at least two of the overland branches of the Silk Road. Burak Sansal summarizes these:

The caravan routes transporting silk, china, paper, spices and precious stones from one continent to the other followed several itineraries in Asia before arriving in Anatolia, which served as a bridge linking it to Europe via the Thrace region. These caravan routes later acquired the name of silk roads and Anatolia constituted the crossroad of these routes. The major cities lying on the Silk Road Anatolia were, in the north: Trabzon, Gümüshane, Erzurum, Sivas, Tokat, Amasya, Kastamonu, Adapazari, Izmit, Istanbul and Edirne; and in the south: Mardin, Diyarbakir, Adiyaman, Malatya, Kahramanmaras, Kayseri, Nevsehir, Konya, Isparta, Antalya and Denizli. Another frequently used itinerary is known to be the one between Erzurum, Malatya, Kayseri, Kirsehir, Ankara, Bilecik, Bursa, Iznik, Izmit and Istanbul.

The Vezir Han, one of the more venerable of the caravanserais in the Grand Bazaar area, is located not far from the corner of Vezirhani Street and Divan Yolu. The entrance does not seem to be marked, but this might well be the portal leading to the inner courtyard. The han itself was built sometime in the fourteenth century, and thus may have caught the tail end of the trading boom that accompanying the Pax Mongolica established by Chingis Khan and his successors, most of whom favored free trade. In his Guidebook to the Silk Road, written just before the Black Plague of 1348–50, Balducci Pegolotti wrote that you could travel from Khanbalik (Beijing) to the Black Sea in 300 days. “The road you travel . . . to Cathay (China) is perfectly safe, whether by day or by night, according to what the merchants say who have used it,” he wrote.

Just down the street, a gateway on the left leads to the Nuruosmaniye Mosque and the Grand Bazaar. The mosque is now undergoing renovation and was not open on the day I was there.

Nuruosmaniye Mosque, started in 1748 by Mahmut I and completed in 1755 by Osman III: the first large mosque to incorporate the Baroque style then popular in Europe.

The passageway past the Nuruosmaniye Mosque leads to the famous and indeed notorious Grand Bazaar, one of the world’s oldest and largest markets, founded in 1461, with more than 58 covered streets and over 1,200 shops. I will be returning here before I leave Istanbul, but for the moment I am hot on the trail of caravanserais.

One of the main entrances to the Grand Bazaar

Alongside the Grand Bazaar are ancient shopping arcades which may well date back to Silk Road times.

Old stone building near the Grand Bazaar

Just down the street is the Mahmud Pasha Mosque, one of the oldest private mosques in Istanbul. It was built in 1463 by Mahmud Pasha, the Grand Vizier of Sultan Mehmed II, who had conquered Constantinople in 1453, turning it into Istanbul. He eventually fell out with Mehmed and was executed in 1474. His tomb, directly behind the mosque, is said to be decorated with some of the oldest existing Iznik Tiles in Istanbul, which must offer him some consolation. Unfortunately, on the day I was there the tomb was locked.

Mahmut Pasha Mosque

From the Mosque Mahmut Pasha Yokusu (Hill) the street drops down to the Spice Market and the shore of the Golden Horn.

Street dropping down from Mahmut Pasha Yokusu

This street is lined with various hans, including the Kurkchu Han, said to be the oldest caravanserai in Istanbul. This han specialized in people involved in the fur trade. It is now fronted by nondescript sheds, but the gateway, although covered with thick paint and topped by a new sign, is said to be the original. Behind the gateway can be seen the ancient stone walls of the old caravanserai.

Kurkchu Han

Another khan on Mahmut Pasha Yokshu

Wandering about down this street lined with hans I could not help but wonder about the people who washed up here over the centuries and what they may have brought with them besides the material goods in which they were trading. In additional to being a trade route the Silk Road was of course also a conduit for ideas, philosophies, and religious beliefs. We have already seen how Nestorian Christianity moved eastward into China, establishing a Beachhead in Xian, the eastern terminus of the Silk Road (notwithstanding the contention of our Beloved Peony that in fact the eastern terminus was in Japan), in the eighth century if not earlier, and how a Mosque in Xian had been built in 742, a mere 120 years after the Hegira (we are of course speaking here of the 622 AD Hegira and not the twentieth-century Hippy Hegira).

The Eastward Advance of Buddhism from India into China is well-known; the dispersion of Buddhism westward less so. Did the traders and travelers who arrived here at these hans from the East bring with them the teachings of Buddha, either in written form, formal oral transmissions, or traveler’s tales? More specifically, did the Shambhala Mythologem, as first expounded in the Kalachakra Tantra and later elaborated on by many commentators, ever reach these ancient cobblestone streets?

As you know, according to legend the Kalachakra Tantra was first taught by the Buddha to Sucandra, the First King of Shambhala. Also according to legend, pilgrims to Shambhala brought an abbreviated version of the Kalachakra Tantra back to India in the tenth century or so, and from there it was disseminated into Tibet and later into Mongolia. More literal minded, beady-eyed scholars have bypassed the legendary origins of the Kalachakra Tantra altogether and contend that it was written in the tenth or eleventh century. Exactly where remains a matter of great dispute. Some scholars in the past have suggested that it was written in the Turpan Basin, on the north side of the Tarim Depression, still other in Khotan, on the south side of the Tarim Depression. Both of these cities were of course famous stops on the Silk Road. Could the Kalachakra Tantra and attendant Shambhala Mythologem have been carried the whole way westward to the terminus of the Silk Road in Istanbul?

The Tarim Basin as Shambhala. Branches of the Silk Road ran along both the north and south sides of the basin. See Enlargement of Map

Also, we know that the Kalachakra Tantra reached the court of Khubilai Khan, ruler of the Mongol Empire, in what is now Beijing in the late thirteen century. Khubilai Khan may have himself taken the Kalachakra Initiation (this is a matter of contention). We know for sure a copy of the Kalachakra Tantra was made to commemorate his death in 1294. This copy still exists and I myself had digitized copies of it distributed in Mongolia. Thus the Kalachakra Tantra and attendant Shambhala Mythologem could also have move westward on the Silk Road from Beijing.

Just how far did Buddhism itself extend its influence westward? In the 1250s Khülegü Khan (1217–1265), grandson of Chingis Khan and brother of Khubilai Khan, invaded what is now Iran and in 1256 destroyed the stronghold of the Ismaili Sect at Alamut. In 1258 He Sacked Baghdad, overthrowing the 500 year-old Islamic Abbasid Dynasty, and in the process reopening the Silk Road. Khülegü was a Buddhist, at least in his later life, but his wife Doquz Khatun and his mother, the legendary Sorghaghtani Beki, were Christians.

One of Khülegü’s successors, the Il-Khan Arghun, eventually made the city of Tabriz, in the northwest corner of what is now Iran, just west of the Caspian Sea, his capital, and here Buddhism, Christianity, and Islam were all said to flourish, at least at first. From here Buddhism might well have moved further westward. As is turned out, Tabriz may mark the the limits of Buddhist expansion to the west, at least until the late twentieth century and the Tibetan Diaspora. The Mongol Il-Khans soon converted to Islam, and what is now Iran eventually became a predominately Islamic country. Buddhism virtually disappeared from Persia, thus cutting off the lands further to the west from the wellsprings of Buddhism in the East.

But while Buddhism as an organized religion may not have traveled the whole way west on the Silk Road traders and travelers may well have brought texts and tales with them, including accounts of the legendary realm of Shambhala. There is, as we shall soon see, a persistent connection between Sufis, practitioners of a mystical brand of Islam, and Shambhala. Indeed, just before I came to Istanbul, a pandita in Ulaan Baatar informed me that a considerable percentage of the current population of Shambhala are in fact Sufis. Could Sufis have learned about Shambhala from Silk Road travelers, or had Sufis themselves plied the old trade routes and brought back to Istanbul knowledge of the legendary Kingdom? Could they then have used their knowledge to locate a Portal here in Istanbul? Of course Istanbul was in the past a hotbed of Sufism. My next stop is the old Mevlevi Tekke in Galatea, on the other side of the Golden Horn, once home to the Whirling Dervishes, one of the most famous Sufi sects.