More Than We Imagined: Early Zhijé Histories

 

I know this must look like a shallow dip into deep and cloudy waters. Perhaps it is just that. I woke up one morning with an odd idea. I thought of constructing a list that would form the basis for a small library of Zhijé lineage histories prior to around 1300 CE. Given that time restraint, I eventually narrowed in on about eight items. In line with the larger Tibetan Histories bibliography, they were placed in chronological order by date of composition.* I have to say, it was a lot of work. I began to wonder, why put all that effort into making a list not guaranteed to be useful or inspiring to all that many of us on our blue planet? 

Oh, well. There won't be any grand conclusions about the historical significance of these history books in today's blog. But yes, I do plan to use them as a basis for another one about Padampa's birthplace and childhood, just not quite yet. It shouldn't be too surprising if looking at the earliest histories makes us reconsider what the later ones have been telling us. But more on that later, since my ideas are still in the testing phase.**

(*I suppose my initial impulse came out of a need to integrate them into Tibetan Histories in a future edition. The 2020 expanded 2nd edition is here for free download. **Oh, and not to forget, I need to write down why I now believe the date of Padampa's death must be moved back by 12 years, from the 1117 you see everywhere to 1105 CE. Not as trivial a move as it may seem.)

 

To be short and concise, I will refer to the list and the histories listed in it as a single entity with capitals: "The Library."

Before getting too serious about the histories in The Library, a very rapid review with the help of a slide I've shown before. It outlines the Middle and Later Lineages that descended from Padampa. 

For present purposes we can limit ourselves to the three major Middle Transmissions, leaving aside the three minor ones. And we can ignore all but the Kunga lineage of the Later Transmission. That means just four transmissions — the Ma, So, Kam and Kunga — make up the subject matter of The Library in its entirely. 

So, here you see the first four in The Library made up of eight items. A few words about each one and our time is over.

—Z1—

I justify putting the women's history, a collective biography of Padampa's woman disciples, as number one simply because it is the first discrete titled historical text that appears in the entire Zhijé corpus known to me. Indeed it is to be counted among the dozen earliest Phyi-dar (roughly post-1000 CE) Tibetan history-genre texts we know of. Composed by Kunga, its composition ought to predate his death in 1124. It exists in a Matho Monastery fragment (more on Matho in a minute) scribed before 1200. It comes down to us in basically two versions, one that combines precepts with biographical information, and another with biographies only. Our oldest datable textual witness, the fragment in Matho, belongs to the former group, combining biographical information with precepts.

Here I display before your eyes a sample of the Matho fragment without saying more for now, just in order to impress on you the somewhat mind blowing fact that we do have a pre-1200 manuscript. For more, I can send you back to a recent blog on the subject.*

(*See “Women Disciples of Padampa: Very Early Ladakhi Zhijé Fragments from Matho,” June 06, 2024.)

—Z2—

Now for no. 2. Astounding but true, also found nested among the Matho fragments is a fairly complete untitled history of the Middle Transmission's Kam (སྐམ་) lineage. Unlike most of the Matho fragments that are in truth fragments, this one is in a still-intact booklet format, just that both beginning and end are missing. As it is a Matho text, its scribing and therefore necessarily its composition were both prior to 1200.

—Z3 & Z4— 

I will say little about 3 and 4 in my list. No. 3, dating to late in the 12th century, is arguably only the longer of many historical forewords, both earlier and equally early, in the Zhijé Collection (so perhaps I should not have included it at all), while no. 4 is the best known of the early Zhijé histories as its content is largely copied into the Blue Annals, long available in English translation.

—Z5—

So I will move ahead to my number 5, the set of Middle Zhijé histories preserved in eastern Bhutan at Drametsé Monastery. Although there are three distinct and quite short texts, I have bunched them all together under the same number in The Library, distinguishing them by adding letters a, b and c if needed.

The rough date of composition of all three of these small Middle Lineage histories is surely early 13th century, perhaps even the first quarter of the 13th century. I have written a blog essay about the Ma (རྨ་) lineage history, so will not discuss its provenance and authorship again here.*

(*Middle Zhijé in Four Matho Fragments, posted July 27, 2025.)

 

I will just say I think it possible the Drametsé manuscript as a whole was directly scribed in the pre- or early-Mongol era, and is not a somewhat later copy. It is difficult at this point to be state firmly.

It looks like this in the photographs taken at Drametsé Monastery by the team of Karma Phuntsok under the British Library sponsored Endangered Archives Project (try this link).

—Z6—

No. 6 in The Library is something quite unknown to Tibetology and Tibetan tradition alike. It suddenly came to my attention during the winter months of 2024 when I had the good fortune to be enabled to spend some winter weeks in Rome looking at the Tucci Tibetan collection in the reading room of the IsIAO.*

Just two days before my departure, Elena de Rossi Filibeck gave me an offprint of an article she had published. There, in a footnote on its first page, was a title I immediately recognized as a work of Padampa. For an entire day I thought I ‘discovered’ it, but this turned out to be untrue, as Elena had already done a complete catalog on this manuscript set that she then freely and generously shared with me. This manuscript set, too, has been subject of a Tibetologic blog.** 

(*If you wish to explore the Giuseppe Tucci collection, your constant companion will be Elena de Rossi Filibeck, Catalogue of the Tucci Tibetan Fund in the Library of IsIAO, in 2 volumes. The fresh new book by Michela Clemente promises to answer the questions we have about how Tucci got his books: In Search for the Provenance of the Books of the Tucci Tibetan Collection. **See “Padampa in the Vatican?” March 22, 2024.) 

 

—Z7—

Just briefly, I would like to say that the 1277 history by Nyedowa (1268-1328), no. 7, is of a respectable length, and written by an author of not just this, but two other intriguing histories, one on the history of medicine,* and another on the Kālacakra Tantra.

(*On Nyedowas's medicine history, see this Tibetologic blog. The study by Brambilla on his Kālacakra history is not yet published.)

—Z8—

I suppose the biographies authored by Chu-sgom-pa ought to be dated to around 1300 with question mark. The composer has no known dates and a problematic identity; I doubt he has to do with the 'Chus-pa sub-lineage that anyway preceded Zhigpo. This is brief and contains only minimal sketches on Padampa and so on, so I leave it aside for the time being.

I continued the listing with more of the still not well enough known, unavailable or undatable materials. Our set of eight isn't set in stone. I even went on to list some newly available histories that were composed after 1300. I will not describe any of these other texts today. I imagine you may find more interesting some reflections instigated by this early body of historical literature. Next time, my friends, next time.

Postscripts

As you may have noticed in the opening slide, this is part of a presentation, since revised, originally meant for the International Association for Tibetan Studies meeting that had been scheduled to take place in Kathmandu in late August 2026. Due to inter- and intra-miscommunications of Beijing and Kathmandu there was an episode of political ball fumbling resulting in the in-person conference getting cancelled and moved onto Zoom. The local Nepalese press and, later on, the international news stories about the cancellation were in large part off the mark and were indeed part of the problem. No, Beijing did not demand the conference be cancelled. She was planning how best to leverage the IATS — the world's only truly international conference on Tibet — in the interest of mainstreaming her false state narrative about Tibet and his history. For a discussion of all this, one that I believe to be largely correct in its assessments, see Robbie Barnett's essay: "Cross-border Interference or Garbled Messaging: China, Nepal, and the Cancellation of the World's Largest Tibetan Studies Conference." Look here for it.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I intend to put up the full texts of The Library eventually. It nears completion, and as soon as it is in shape to share I will link to it here. With OCR busy doing so much to make Tibetan texts searchable in some degree, it is still just a fact that so many pre-Mongol-era Tibetan works, particularly those we now have in cursive manuscripts, are not yet searchable. That means transcribing them is something Human Skilled Intelligence* is needed to do, either from scratch or by skillfully correcting the substandard job OCR makes of it.** Besides, good transcriptions can then be put to use as "training data" so in the future the not-so-super intelligence we will continue to understand as being artificial can possibly get a little better at doing what it does. Even with all our credible doubts, might this massive accumulation of knowledge bring something beneficial to living sentient beings? Is that naive?

(*I didn't invent the HSI concept, but I hesitate to advertise it by giving out links until I know more about it. It appears to be free, but there is the ever present danger of monetization. Everywhere, that is, except here in Tibeto-logic blog with its general rule that nothing unfree will be put on offer.)

(**That its output is substandard everyone has to know, including the experts tasked with developing Tibetan cursive OCR. Take as witness the recent Zoom presentation by Rachael M. Griffiths, “From Manuscript to Searchable Text: A Computational Pipeline for Unlocking the Pagan Tibet Corpus.”*** Among its conclusions is this one: Human effort and expertise cannot be replaced.)

(***I supply the full title here so you can search for it, as it may soon be posted online.)

Happy New Year (This time it's for real!)

A Tibetan friend just sent me this very nice digital eCard for the Tibetan holiday known as Losar. Losar (lo-gsar or ལོ་གསར་ if you prefer) means Year New.* 

(I assume the eCard isn't under any copyright, but in any case its use in this blog is entirely non-commercial.) 

(*unmarked adjectives come after their nouns, not before like in English. Where in English you say white house, in Tibetan you say house white. Get used to it.)

Sending Losar greeting cards is a new custom, unknown to traditional Tibet. So Losar eCards are needless to say much newer still. The absence of cards and eCards was no great loss back then. Believe me, there was plenty to do with family and friends living close by.

Today's (technically last night's) new moon begins the Earth Mouse year. In 1027 CE Tibet had its first rabjung (rab-byung or རབ་འབྱུང་) year. Well, the first year of the Jovian sixty-year cycle is called the rabjung year, a direct translation of Sanskrit prabhava. Tibetans use the name of the first year of the Jovian cycle for the entire set of sixty years as well. These Jovian cycles themselves are numbered. I would like to point out an interesting thing in the first line of the eCard. The first three syllables mean "Tibetan Royal Era year" followed by the number 2135,* then the four following syllables,་that mean “rabjung mountain moon,” followed by a genitive ending, and the last four syllables of the first line, “earth mouse sky-year.”

(*Tibetan numbers look a little different from Arabic and Indian forms of the numbers, but work in just the same way. It has become customary in recent times to give the Royal year. But let's try and be real for a moment. Traditional chronologies are by no means in agreement about when the first Emperor ruled Tibet. Modern historians see little use in giving an entirely dubious numeric value to this event.)

Now I can hear you saying, What the heck is this mountain moon about? Well, interesting that you ask, grasshopper. At least since the 10th century (if not as appears likely much earlier) when the Kalacakra ('Wheel of Time') Tantra made its debut in India, there has been a custom, mainly in works on calculation and chronology, to use words in place of numbers. I call them numeric code-words. Mountain means 7. Why? Because there are 7 circles of mountains in traditional Abhidharma cosmology. Moon means 1. That's because the earth only has one moon. (Clearly, the system was not invented on Jupiter.) Why were code-words used instead of numbers? I don't know. It was an Indian tradition that Tibetans kept on following.

But then that would seem to translate into the number '71', wouldn't it? Wrong! When you make use of numeric code-words, the numbers are always (and I mean always) read from right to left. Mountain moon means 17. And why 17? you're thinking.

Ah! We are now in the 17th rabjung. Let’s see. Well, the first rabjung started with the rabjung year, or Earth Hare year, that corresponds to 1027.* A lot happened in that year. Naropa is said to have died in India. The Kadampa teacher Potowa was born... But most relevant for us right now is the fact that the Kalacakra tantra was for the very first time translated, together with its most important commentary named Vimalaprabha, from Sanskrit into Tibetan language.

(*Csoma de Kőrös, a Hungarian traveler-scholar who is sometimes called the first Tibetologist, thought the first year of the first rabjung had begun in the year 1026. That's why for a few generations after him Tibetan dates when 'translated' were off by one year. Of course, even today Tibetan dates, when translated, may well be a year off because people fail to take into account the only partial overlap between the 'years' of the two calendrical systems.)

Herein lies a mystery. The number 60 is very important in Kalacakra. Kalacakra time measurement includes not only 60-year cycles, but there are actually 60 hours in a day. Uh huh, right, that means Kalacakra hours were only 24 minutes long, just enough for the TV sitcom after subtracting the time taken up by commercials; but yes, due to the degeneration of time, by now that might be more like 15 minutes for the commercials.

The Kalacakra itself lists Sanskrit names for each of the 60 years in the cycle. It does *not* name them for the animals and elements as Tibetans do. The truth is that Tibetans (just like their neighbors) most usually made use of the simpler 12-year animal cycle of years already in the middle of the 7th century or so. It might seem that they adjusted their customary 12-year cycle to conform with the Kalacakra by combining the 12 animals with the 5 elements. (But this would not be true. In fact, the earliest known use of a Jovian cycle or "sexagenary" date in Tibetan would be the Iron Ox year in the Sino-Tibetan Peace Treaty of 821-822 CE; see Uray's article for more about this.) The five elements were, perhaps surprising to some, not the five elements as known to the Greeks and Indians: earth, water, fire, air, ether. Instead, they used the five elements as known to China: fire, earth, iron, water, wood. When combined with the 12 animals, each element is repeated twice.

To illustrate this last point, the first year of the rabjung is the Fire Hare. The years that follow the Fire Hare are, in order: Earth Dragon, Earth Snake, Iron Horse, Iron Sheep, Water Monkey, Water Hen, Wood Dog, Wood Pig, Fire Mouse, Fire Ox, Earth Tiger, Earth Hare... You get the idea, I guess and hope. (You might have noticed that I've ignored the minor complication of the gender elements here.)

This year is 2008 CE, so 981 years have passed since 1027 CE. 981 divided by 60 equals 16.35, which puts us well into the 17th set of 60. In fact we are now entering into the 22nd year of the 17th rabjung, which started about this time of year in 1987 CE. The Sanskritic name of this year, according to the Kalacakra system, is Sarvadharin, which is Kun-’dzin when translated into Tibetan. It means Holder of All, which might be considered as an epithet of Shiva. Tibetans hardly ever make use of these Sanskritic year names, although they are sometimes encountered in the colophons of Tibetan books.

Now whether I’ve bored you to tears, or not, with all those numbers and calculations, I feel like I should say something about what I think Losar means to Tibetans. That’s truly difficult, but why not give it a try... I'd say that if you know what Christmas means to most North Americans of Christian background, then you might start to understand just how important Losar is to Tibetans. Of course, the Tibetan observances are very much different. There is no Christmas tree with bulbs and tinsel, and wrapped gifts beneath. Still, the stacks of Kabtsé* on the altar along with the pot of freshly growing grass and the sheep's head made of porcelain mean every bit as much to the Tibetan soul as the Christmas tree to most Christians. Family. Togetherness. Warmth. Prosperity. Abundance. Food. Fun. All that and more.

Kabtsé*

*Kabtsé is a kind of deep-fried bread, twisted into various pretzel-like shapes. The stacked-up plates, called derkha [sder-kha or སྡེར་ཁ་] are usually further decorated with colorful objects, especially hard candies, which adds to the 'Christmas tree' illusion. One of my favorite fried bread shapes is the bongui amchog (bong-bu'i a-mchog or བོང་བུའི་ཨ་མཆོག), a name that translates as 'donkey ears.' These make me think of Haman's ears, eaten during the Israeli (and Jewish) holiday of Purim. Well, differences aside, at least it is another kind of pastry 'ear' eaten during a particular festivity.

Hamantaschen

The object depicted in the eCard is called the Droso Chemar (gro so phye mar). It is a box (called a bo ['bo]) with a wooden divider in the center, and two wooden ‘tags’, one sticking up on each side. Both sides are filled to overflowing (perhaps overly clearly symbolizing or demonstrating abundance). If you visit a Tibetan friend on Losar, which I hope you will, you might be immediately invited to take from the box a pinch of chemar (phye mar), that means a slightly buttered flour (I think some people add sugar), which you toss in the air and shout “Tashi Deleg!”  (bkra-shis bde-legs), a phrase you will probably hear a lot during the days of Losar, and not all that much in other parts of the year. You’ll also almost certainly be offered a beaker or bowl of chang (chang), a bittersweet beer traditional to Tibet since the beginning of time, which when good, as it often is, has a slight lemony taste that lingers on your tongue. The beer vessel and your beaker will both be decorated with a generous dab of butter, which as you all know from experience is a symbol of wealth and nourishment, even if you like me should be doing your best to eliminate it from your diet. Don’t be surprised if you discover big white splatches of chemar all over your clothing. It happens. This is a very good thing.

I don’t want to speak too much about the gambling and drinking and partying that goes on, and on, starting on the second day of Losar. Or too much about other things both seriously meaningful and fun, like dressing up in your best new clothes, hanging up strings of multicolored Wind Horse flags (rlung-rta), feasting on ‘Nine Soup’ dumplings with special gifts hidden inside (dgu-thug),* visiting temples, burning juniper incense (bsang) on the mountainside, and the like. Did I mention dancing? Yes, I guess I did.

(*The hidden objects are omens for what will happen to the person who happens to get them during the following year, although they may not be taken entirely seriously, but all in good fun. Here are the objects according to my understanding: The person getting a dumpling containing paper will be bookish and good in school (or a victim of theft?); wood means being like a poor man walking with a stick (or lucky enough to travel); a pebble means a lifespan as lasting as diamond; salt is cleverness and fame; wool is for disease (or new clothing?); and cayenne pepper for a temperamental personality or a 'sharp tongue.' Charcoal of course means you will have 'dark thoughts.' Onion means you will have body odor. I guess that last one might be a result of eating it. There have to be nine. Did I miss something? Yes, I guess I did.)

Oh well, all that was just therapy for myself, isolated as I am in a place in the world without any Tibetan community. Please do send a comment to let me know how you celebrated Losar this year, and don’t neglect to tell me and everyone else what it means to you. Correct my misunderstandings. This is one subject about which truly every single Tibetan is the ultimate expert, your best Tibetologist. Losar is something so good that it just keeps on going for many people. Although surely an exception, I met one Tibetan man who was still partying non-stop into the month of May. I’m thinking this was, is and would be just way too much of a good thing.

Read more!

Last year Phayul news site had a very nice article about Losar by Phayul correspondent Phurbu Thinley (Phur-bu-phrin-las), which you can find here.

I think this just-linked article is certainly one of the the best things there is on the subject on the entire internet. Highly recommended. But see also Tsepak Rigzin's (Tshe-dpag-rig-'dzin) article "Losar" posted at Tibettalk. Or if like me you prefer to read it in print, try Tsepak Rigzin, Festivals of Tibet, Library of Tibetan Works and Archives (Dharamsala 1993), pp. 1-8. For an account of Losar observances with real photographs from pre-invasion Tibet, including an unforgettable shot of a rope-sliding demonstration about to take place with the Potala as the backdrop, see Hugh Richardson, Ceremonies of the Lhasa Year, Serindia (London 1993), pp. 11-22.

For more examples of numeric code-words derived from the Kalacakra, look here. And thanks to the strange ways inherent in synchronicity and interdependent origination, on Wednesday, February 06, 2008, PSz of Thor-bu blog made a list of Sanskrit numeric code-words (go here and scroll down past the mysterious ruins until you get to them).

If just for fun you would like to hear somebody’s idea about what your Tibetan birth-year means for your personality, etc., look here.*

(*Beware! Tibetan prognostics are often anything but reassuring.)

Here is a lovely little essay about Tibetan astroscience* by one of it's leading 20th-century practitioners, Professor Jampa Gyaltsen Dagthon (1939-1997).

(*Tibetan rtsis, which is translated 'astroscience', 

actually means 'calculation' in general, and includes 

mathematics, astrology and astronomy, among other matters.)

Here is a useful chart of the Tibetan and CE correspondences covering 1027 through 2046.

Géza Uray, “The Earliest Evidence of the Use of the Chinese Sexagenary Cycle in Tibetan,” contained in: Louis Ligeti, ed., Tibetan and Buddhist Studies Commemorating the 200th Anniversary of the Birth of Alexander Csoma de Körös, Akadémiai Kiadó (Budapest 1984), pp. 341-360.

There are quite a few technical writings on astroscience (besides the article by Uray you see here), and its sub-branch of chronology. I’ll list them for you some other time. There’s a lion in my library that requires my immediate attention. Now where did I leave those tweezers?

I apologize that many of the links in this old blog have expired. You should have read it sooner, while they were still with us.