One of the earliest records of a dread divinity of war and victory appears in the journal of the Chinese pilgrim-monk Yijing (635–713). During his travels in India, he records:
There is likewise in great monasteries in India, at the side of a pillar in the kitchen, or before the porch, a figure of a deity carved in wood, two or three feet high, holding a golden bag, and seated on a small chair, with one foot hanging down towards the ground. Being always wiped with oil its countenance is blackened, and the deity is called Mahākāla . . . the great black deity. . . naturally loves the Three Jewels, and protects the five assemblies from misfortune. Those who offer prayers to him have their desires fulfilled. At meal-times those who serve in the kitchen offer light and incense, and arrange all kinds of prepared food before the deity. . . .
Those who ask him (for a boon) find their wishes fulfilled. The efficacy of that deity is undeniable.
(I-Tsing 1896, 38)
This deity, with fangs bared, mouth open in an everlasting roar, fierce eyes bulging, with muscular limbs and a great nourished belly from devouring his foes, was worshipped by some of the most fearsome Buddhist empires in Inner Asia.
Time stretches out: into years, decades, then centuries, across Eurasia. This wrathful, “great black deity” who was first seen in the monastery kitchens of the era of India’s super-monasteries, would later reappear on the war banners of the shock troops of the Mongol emperor of China, Kublai Khan (1219–94). These war banners were decorated with Mahakala in his “Panjarnata” form as a fearsome protective deity on the war banners of Kublai’s elite shock troops. These flags were fluttering in the pleasant breeze of Yunnan, when a young Kublai, then only a warrior prince seeking to carve out a name for himself (and eventually wrest control of the Mongol throne away from his brother, Möngke Khan), arrived at Lijiang in 1252. After establishing a fond relationship with the locals, he was recalled back to the Mongol heartland after some time campaigning in Lijiang.
“I found Yunnan a most pleasant place through this personal visit. Had I not been recalled by imperial decree, I’d be content with being a duke there,” he said upon his return home.
But destiny would have different plans for this heir to the House of Chinggis. He would not be simply a duke of Yunnan, but khagan of the entire Mongol Empire and emperor of the Yuan Dynasty (1271–1368). Due to his heartfelt words, a commemorative landmark called Wansui Yard would be built later during his reign, with a simple placard placed to celebrate his fondness for Yunnan. This hall, now faded and resting on the hillside, would be the heart of a growing complex. The grounds around Wansui Yard would develop into the Camelia Yard of the Ming dynasty (1368–1644) and finally the Yufeng Temple of the Qing dynasty (1644–1911) during the reign of the Kangxi Emperor. To this day, Yufeng is one of the five primary Karma Kagyu temples in Lijiang, and the one that I find to have the most enchanting and serene atmosphere.
As emperor and patron of the Sakya school of Tibetan Buddhism, Kublai would have received Marco Polo at his great capital of Shangdu (Xanadu). We can imagine how they would have conversed, perhaps even verbally sparred. The two men were in Kublai’s sumptuous yurt, with tea being brewed and a small furnace’s wood crackling pleasantly. We know that the Venetian traveller inquired as to what the word “Tangut,” meant. “I’ve travelled a long way eastwards, and I saw lots of haunting ruins that were marked by this Tangut presence,” said Marco. He was seated, cross-legged on a yak pelt, to Kublai’s side, in an honored but clearly subordinate position. “What is this shadowy presence?”
According to a translated account, Kublai’s reply was approximately as follows. “‘Tangut’ means two things,” the emperor told the adventurous merchant, his beady, lively eyes dancing with an ambitious fire. He was a burly man with a thin goatee, so muscular that he looked fat, his iron flesh looking to burst out of his white coat.
“The first meaning of ‘Tangut’ is that of an empire that had already disappeared five decades before my time. This was the Great State of White and High, and stretched over the plains, rivers, and valleys to the Gobi Desert,” said Kublai. “You, little Venetian, tell me that you’ve seen many remnants and ruins along your voyage to my city here. I tell you, this Xixia kingdom was in the majestic Helan mountains, and we Mongols made war on it two generations ago.”
Kublai would continue talking: “The second meaning of ‘Tangut’ indicates the people who lived within this empire. One of their soldiers, blessed by one of their monks’ magical ritual blessings, shot a guided arrow that pierced through my grandfather, Temujin: the mighty one you Europeans know as Genghis Khan.”
Kublai pursed his lips. “Perhaps I should hate them, but I suppose it’s true that Respected Grandfather signed the Tangut people’s death warrant. Of course they would leverage their tantric artillery against him and his men. Of course they would entreat Mahakala to put a curse on Respected Grandfather.”
“Is this sorcery true?” Marco Polo asked, listening in enthralled attention. “Does this fearsome Great Black Deity truly watch over you and your troops? Were you not afraid of Mahakala if your own grandfather was magically slain by this wrathful Buddhist god?”
The Venetian probably did not know that his host had his very own Mahakala ritual specialist at court, Ga Anyen Dampa Kunga Drak (ca. 1230–1303). (Rubin Museum) According to the Rubin Museum website, “Several historical sources attest to Dampa’s applications of Mahakala in the service of the Mongolian military machine; in recognition, many temples and images dedicated to Mahakala were built throughout the empire. Numerous Mongol victories were attributed to Dampa’s summoning of Mahakala.” (Rubin Museum)
Kublai smiled broadly. “We Mongols appreciate a winner,” he declared, slapping his crossed lap, “and very soon after we conquered Xixia, we wasted no time in learning from those tantric masters who were willing to defect to us, how we could learn from the Tangut reverence of Mahakala. How the Lord of Time could help us in our own conquest of the world.”
Kublai was therefore declaring that this imperial strategy of worshipping and offering devotion to Mahakala could be traced back to the very Tanguts that he was reminiscing about to Marco. But that is for another recollection. . .
Reference
I-Tsing. Trans. J. Takakusu. 1896. A Record of the Buddhist Religion as Practised in India and the Malay Archipelago. Oxford: Clarendon Press.
See more
The Political Role of Tibetan Buddhism at the Mongol Court (The Rubin)
Tracing the Tangut (The World of Chinese)
Back to Tangut Time
