Crisis in Mongolian Buddhism
Part One: The Challenge

Competition undermines Mongolia's traditional faith

by Stuart Hertzog

 
Kalachakra temple at Gandan Khiid OCTOBER 22nd,1998

Buddhism in Mongolia once again is under attack. But unlike the communist repression of 1929-37, during which tens of thousands of monks were forced out of the monasteries, transported to Siberia, or brutally executed, this time the weapons being brought to bear are not guns and soldiers, but books, bibles, prayer meetings and television programs proffered by smiling Christian missionaries, and the attractions of modern consumer society. Nobody will lose their life during this civil siege, but the effects on Mongolia's traditional Buddhist culture could be just as devastating. Ironically, it was the very removal of the restrictions on religion after the Glasnost of 1989, that opened the door to this second attack on traditional belief. As now-democratic Mongolia liberalized its trade and entry policies, many of the more aggressive proselytizing religious denominations opened branches in Mongolia, seeking converts to their faith. Well-funded, armored by unshakable faith and practiced in conversion techniques, the newly-opened missions are finding their marks. Many young Mongolians between the ages of 14 and 24 have converted to Christianity, leaving only the old, the religious middle-aged, a few young people, and the majority of rural Mongolians still with faith in Mongolia's brand of Tibetan Buddhism.

As modernization proceeds, fewer Mongolians consider themselves to be practicing Buddhists. Armed with Coca-Cola, television and consumer goods, the Free Market consumes philosophies, too.

Although aggressive missionary operations have become a source of concern for the Mongolian government, the activities of the soldiers of Christ cannot legally be stopped. Apart from seizing 10,000 overtly anti-Buddhist video tapes, the Mongolian government can do nothing. Only a thin line stands between repressive protectionism and an open society, and perhaps wisely, the government has opted for the latter. If Buddhism is to survive in Mongolia, it must rise to the challenge itself. Is Mongolian Buddhism capable of meeting this threat? the answer to this is a definite maybe.

Unfortunately, many factors stand in the way of a vigorous and concerted response from existing Buddhist institutions. First, they are only just emerging from the trauma of communist repression. Centuries-old lineages were abruptly terminated, including almost all those teachers with a deep understanding of Buddhist philosophy. At the turn of this century, Mongolian monks defeated visiting Tibetan lamas at philosophical debates. Now, that expertise is gone. Although the monasteries have been open since 1990, just a handful of older, classically-trained monks remain to pass on their knowledge. You will find only very old and very young monks in Mongolian monasteries. Missing are those who now would have been in their prime years, their absence a palpable reminder of the stifling oppression of the years of communism.

Words Without Meaning

Sadly, most monks now recite the Tibetan texts without understanding a word of what they are saying. Few monks speak and write Tibetan, and anyway, Mongolian liturgy is based on an outdated, medieval form of Tibetan, like the archaic Old Latin of the Catholic Church. The Tibet Foundation, based in London, U.K., currently sponsors monks to travel to India to learn Tibetan and study Buddhadharma. But to date, only a handful have been supported. Gandan monastery in Ulaanbaatar, Mongolia's leading Buddhist Centre, is a beneficiary of this program. Returnees teach Tibetan to monks at Gandan's Buddhist Academy. However, not many other monasteries have been able to use the program, which at the present rate would take decades to affect a major improvement.

Another factor stifling effective response to missionary Christianity is that Mongolian monasteries do not teach Buddhadharma to lay people. This stems from a long-held and conservative attitude arising from the Buddha's injunction to teach only when requested and not proselytize. As a result, Mongolian monasteries long ago ceased to be active in spreading the Dharma. They became inward-focused, concerned with the splitting of hairs over interpretations of texts, and with internecine rivalry. Lay people were tolerated to support the monasteries, and could only request recitations of texts or the performance of ritual.

Such an approach falls short when faced with aggressively competitive religions. But unfortunately, that attitude seems to persist to the present day. Gandan monastery only recently was persuaded to hold one Tibetan language class per week for lay people. I was invited to address the class briefly before the teaching monk arrived, and discovered to my horror that no Mongolians present knew that there are different schools of Tibetan Buddhism. They know only of the Gelug sangha, and the Dalai Lama, and seemed to have no basic understanding of Buddhadharma. The average Mongolian Buddhist's approach to Buddhadharma is one of absolute faith plus what we westerners might label as heavy superstition. I began to wonder if we are involved in the same religion.

Absolute faith is a wonderful thing, and can be a path to awakening. But such blind faith falls short in today's complex age, when young people are faced with the blandishments of scientific skepticism, as well as the social and intellectual attractions of free-market economics and technology. For the monasteries to rely on the continued and unquestioning faith of the lay people, is clearly a losing proposition. Yet I get the distinct impression that Mongolian Buddhist institutions have not yet grasped the fact that the rules of the game have totally changed since they last were prominent in Mongolian society. They are faced not just with Christian expansionism; they also must come to grips with new western intellectual and social philosophies. They prospered under feudalism — but how will they fare under free-enterprise, technological capitalism?

At the present time, the prognosis for the survival of traditional Mongolian Buddhism, is not looking good.

reflecting pool at Gandan Khiid

(On to Prescriptions for Revival...)

(Back to Site Guide...)

copyright © Stuart Hertzog  1998