Published by: World Tibet Network News Monday, December 1, 1997

The wrath of the thunder god?

Nov 30th By Jeffrey Fleishman

PHILADELPHIA INQUIRER STAFF WRITER

DHARMSALA, India -- With knives hidden, the murderers passed the begging leper at the crossroads, climbed a few steps, turned a corner and slipped into a room where they repeatedly stabbed three Buddhist monks and escaped into the dusk, leaving behind a black bag, a glove and a peeled, uneaten orange.

As the moon brightened, the killers fled by taxi, racing down the mountain and across the flatlands. They reached the green hills of Nepal and climbed higher through the freezing Himalayas. They crossed the Chinese border; then, descending onto the barren plateau of Tibet, they melted away.

Indian authorities have made no arrests in the Feb. 4 slayings, which occurred a few hundred yards from the Dalai Lama's residence-in-exile here. The suspects are believed to belong to a small, intense sect that has been at theological odds with mainstream Tibetan Buddhism. Because of fears for the Dalai Lama himself, the spiritual leader's securiy has been tightened, pricking Dharmsala's aura of serenity.

The crime has a serpentine plot and a cast of mystical and mortal characters: a guru close to the Dalai Lama, religious fundamentalists, Chinese agents, and the wrathful spirit of a 17th-century monk known as the "hurler of thunderbolts. " The prelude to the murders was a split in the Tibetan community -- something the Dalai Lama has tried to prevent as long as his people have been in exile. Since China invaded Tibet in 1949, about 135,000 Tibetans have been scattered across India, Nepal and Bhutan. Over the years, some Tibetans -- perhaps as many as 20,000 -- have become increasingly devoted to a deity named Dorje Shugden, a "protector" whom many believe can help them acquire inner peace and worldly riches.

In the nether-realm of spirits, Shugden is considered by most Tibetan scholars as a fringe deity. But Shugden's disciples around the world have elevated him to a major spiritual force. Several World Wide Web pages are devoted to him fwebtilde-fmt-sysshugden/dp benef.htm, and he is esteemed as a sort of guardian angel in the dicey world of capitalism.

But the Dalai Lama has had his fears about Shugden since he had a dream "not to follow him," said Phuntso Tsering, from the Tibet Public Service Commission.

"Devotion to this one deity is not healthy for the government or the people," said Tsering. "These followers are getting caught up in a cult. . . . The Dalai Lama believes Buddhists must seek enlightenment and truth through many paths."

One of the murder victims, Geshe Lobsang Gyatso, a 70-year-old guru and confidant of the Dalai Lama's, had campaigned for months before the slayings against what he saw as Shugden fanaticism. Shugden disciples argued that comments by the Dalai Lama and Gyatso sparked persecution against Shugden followers. They said statues and paintings of the deity have been burned in Tibet and India and that some disciples were fired from their jobs by the government in exile.

The Shugden sect has denied any connection to the deaths of Gyatso and his two assistants but has remained steadfast in keeping its doctrine pure and separate from other Buddhist schools.

Such religious squabbles strengthen the hand of China, which claims Tibet as part of its territory. Many Tibetans believe China is directly responsible for the murders, in its attempt to divide the Tibetan resistance. But Tibetan security officials here say there is no evidence linking China to the crime.

"China did not mastermind this, but they certainly exploited it," said Ngodup Dongchung, secretary of security for Tibet's government-in-exile. "The brutality of these murders was meant to send a message by religious fanatics. They were not afraid of arrest. They were brainwashed."

In their 10-month investigation, Dongchung's staff and the Indian police have interviewed taxi drivers, monks, innkeepers, members of the Dalai Lama's inner circle and members of the Shugden Society in New Delhi. Information also trickled in from Dongchung's contacts in Tibet.

Authorities say the murder plot was set in motion at the end of January, when at least four men from Tibetan enclaves in south India followed guru Gyatso from New Delhi to Dharmsala. The men -- some of them monks - checked into the Kanga Hotel and apparently met two other suspects. "They laid low, checking out the locations around Dharmsala," said Dongchung.

Dharmsala is an easy place for an exiled Tibetan to hide in plain sight. A mountaintop hamlet, Dharmsala has lost some of its rustic mysticism to the imported ambiance of soul-searching Westerners who sip mango milk shakes at the Chicago Cafe and watch pirated movies in the Star Video Parlor. The muddy roads are filled with donkeys and Land Rovers. The air is laced with Buddhist chanting and songs from a rock band called the Exile brothers. Monks in burgundy robes and saffron-colored shirts mingle with tourists in Dockers and ball caps.

Late on the afternoon of Feb. 4, the suspects checked out of the Kanga Hotel and four of them got into taxis. "The other two must have left earlier to case the place," said Dongchung. Shortly before 7 p.m., when most of the monks in the Namgyel Monastery were watching a film, the murderers gathered outside a room trimmed in gold brocade curtains.

Inside, Gyatso and two of his assistants -- Ngawang Loedoe and Lobsang Ngwang -- were translating Tibetan scriptures into English. The murderers rushed in. They slit Gyatso's throat and stabbed him 16 times. The assistants -- who had slices on their palms, indicating a struggle -- were each stabbed nine times. Blood speckled the walls and scriptures and turned the monks' saffron sashes red.

Dongchung said the assailants, who did not steal Gyatso's money or valuable statues, fled in taxis about 8 p.m. Friends of Gyatso's entered the room minutes later. Some tried to stop the bleeding by quickly stitching the wounds with black thread.

"The taxi drivers saw no blood and no weapons on the murderers," said Dongchung. "The suspects were driven 250 kilometers [ about 150 miles ] and then disappeared. They eventually ended up in Lhasa, Tibet" -- inside the Chinese border. They registered in a guest house and hid from followers of Gyatso, who by then had learned of the slayings.

But before the vigilantes found them, Dongchung said, the suspects were arrested on unrelated charges by Tibetan-Chinese authorities. "They were arrested with huge amounts of money, Indian rupees and U.S. dollars," said Dongchung. "They were interrogated, and we suspect they all confessed [ to the murders ] . But they are not under arrest anymore. We believe they have been returned to their villages in Tibet and parts of China. They will most likely never be extradited to stand trial. China would never send them back. This division is exactly what the Chinese want."

Sipping tea in his office, Dongchung stared at color snapshots of the six suspects. "The murders were done in a very mysterious way, very professional," he said. "But I think in the future the Shugden sect will lose followers. Most of them certainly disapproved of the killings and don't want a break with the Dalai Lama. This was just a fringe society anyway."

The Shugden sect, in fact, was born in a tale of murder: one that occurred in the 1650s when Tulku Dragpa Gyaltsen, a rival of the fifth Dalai Lama, was sick with fever. Legend has it that an ally of the Dalai Lama sneaked into Gyaltsen's bedroom and choked him by stuffing his mouth with silk scarves. Gyaltsen's ghost took the name Dorje Shugden, or "hurler of thunderbolts" because of his immense power and his wrathful nature.

Today the sect has schools in London, Switzerland and the United States. Members have denied any connection to the Dharmsala murders -- accusing the Dalai Lama instead of using the crime to turn Buddhists against Shugden and his followers. They say the Dalai Lama is using Shugden as a scapegoat for his own failure to win freedom for Tibet. "His Holiness is using this to redirect the anger of the Tibetan people about independence from China," said Cheme Tsering, a monk and Shugden disciple who was questioned by police following the murders. "He is using an issue of faith to hide his own political failings."

The Chinese have put their own spin on the story. They say the Dalai Lama's opposition to the sect -- his officials expelled one Shugden guru as "a demon with broken commitments" -- proves he is against freedom of religion.

"The Dalai Lama," according to China's Tibet, a magazine published by Beijing, "has made lots of illogical statements . . . thus generating once again a grave, politically motivated struggle."

Tashi Tempa, a shopkeeper in Dharmsala, who escaped Tibet with a yak and a donkey in 1975, said the rift over Shugden is another example of how gurus in the West and misguided Tibetans have sullied Buddhism.

"This is all very embarrassing for Tibetans," said Tempa. "We are known for peace and compassion, not killing."