The Cult of Tara

APPLICATION
When the Lord Refuge of Dragyab died, his monastery was taken
over, during the minority of his reincarnation, by a regent named
Zangmar toden, who was a very different sort of man from the
former abbot. Zangmar had originally followed the "ancient" sect
(he had been a disciple of the great and famous Drugu SakyasrI of
Sbderk'a) but then had moved to Ch'amdo, where he met and
became the disciple of a Gelug lama named Master Refuge P'awang
kawa.
Zangmar had fallen under the spell of this new and impressive
personality. P'awang kawa was undoubtedly one of the great lamas
of the early twentieth century, but he was a man of contradictory
passions, and he shows us two different faces when he is recalled by
those who knew him. In many ways he was truly a saint; he was
sent to Ch'amdo by the central government to represent its interests
and administer its Gelug monasteries, and he was sympathetic to the
concerns of the K'am people over whom he had been granted jurisdiction,
a scholar and an enthusiast for all aspects of Tibetan culture.
But many eastern Tibetans remember him with loathing as the
great persecutor of the "ancient" sect, devoting himself to the
destruction throughout K'am of images of the Precious Guru and
the burning of "ancient" books and paintings.
P'awang kawa sent his new disciple back to take charge of the
Gelug monastery in Dragyab; Zangmar, with the zeal of the convert,
carried with him only his master's sectarianism and implemented
only his policy of destruction. He tried to force the monks of Kajegon
(who were technically under his authority) to perform the
Gelug rituals, and when they obstinately continued to refuse he
called in the government police on a trumped-up charge of treason.
They raided Kajegon, broke its images, made a fire of its books and
paintings, and beat its monks with sticks. The head monk, who
carried with him by chance that day our image of Tara, tried to
stop them; while one policeman threatened him with a stick, another
shot him'in the back.
But the power of the thunderstone had not diminished during
its repose: the bullet simply flattened itself upon the old monk's
body, just as the yak's horns had bent upon the body of the servant.
Everyone present was astonished to see that he was unhurt, and
though the looting continued, the miracle most likely prevented
the outbreak of real and bloody warfare. Those who knew about
the image were further convinced of its power.