Podcasts about songtsen gampo

rWotD Episode 2594: Bhrikuti Welcome to random Wiki of the Day where we read the summary of a random Wikipedia page every day.The random article for Monday, 10 June 2024 is Bhrikuti.Bhrikuti Devi (Sanskrit: भृकुटी, known to Tibetans as Bal-mo-bza' Khri-btsun, Bhelsa Tritsun ("Besa" Nepal lit. 'Nepali consort'), or simply, Khri bTsun (lit. 'royal lady') was a princess of the Licchavi kingdom in Nepal. In c.622 Bhrikuti became the first wife and queen of the king of Tibet, Songtsen Gampo (c.605–650 CE). Bhrikuti was seen as an incarnation of Green Tara, and is credited for bringing Buddhism to Tibet, together with the Jowo Mikyo Dorje statue for which the Jokhang Temple in Lhasa was built.This recording reflects the Wikipedia text as of 00:15 UTC on Monday, 10 June 2024.For the full current version of the article, see Bhrikuti on Wikipedia.This podcast uses content from Wikipedia under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.Visit our archives at wikioftheday.com and subscribe to stay updated on new episodes.Follow us on Mastodon at @wikioftheday@masto.ai.Also check out Curmudgeon's Corner, a current events podcast.Until next time, I'm Ruth Neural.

Tibetan Empire reached its zenith under Songtsen Gampo's descendant Tri Song Detsuen in 755 AD who expanded Tibet politically and economically and promoted Buddhism to bring the nation together. However, about a century after him, the empire collapsed and Tibet entered its traditional "dark age." The Mongols conquered Tibet in 1244 but let the local Buddhist leaders manage the administrative affairs and Tibet gradually eased into a Theocracy as the Dalai Lama was acknowledged as the Spiritual Head. In 1950, China, looking for a buffer zone between itself and India, invaded Tibet.

Blood stains the Silk Road, while at home in Tibet the Tsenpo's chafe under the yoke of their regents. The death of Songtsen Gampo left a power vacuum, one filled by the most powerful man in Tibet, the Prime Minister Gar Tongtsen. Amidst the backdrop of war, the Gar clan would consolidate control in their own hands, quietly sidelining the Yarlung Dynasty Emperors. But a young Tsenpo, tired of being a mere puppet, would change all of that forever...

In which we conclude our story of the first Tsenpo of the Tibetan Empire. Songtsen is known today as "Songtsen Gampo" which means Songtsen "the Wise". He earned this title for his contributions to Tibetan culture, especially the introduction of writing and the construction of Buddhist temples. But Songtsen did not work alone - his many talented ministers, and his two Buddhist wives, were just as active, if not more so. Today we follow that story until Songtsen's early death in 649.

Jacob Dalton‘s recent book, The Taming of the Demons: Violence and Liberation in Tibetan Buddhism (Yale University Press, 2011), examines violence (both symbolic and otherwise) in Tibetan Buddhism. Dalton focuses in particular on the age of fragmentation (here 842-986 CE), and draws on previously unexamined Dunhuang manuscripts to show that this period was one of great creativity and innovation, and a time when violent myths and rituals were instrumental in adapting Buddhism to local interests, thereby allowing Buddhism to firmly establish itself in Tibet. While much twentieth-century scholarship faithfully followed Tibetan historiography’s assertion that the age of fragmentation was a dark time during which the light of Buddhism faded completely, Dalton not only confirms that Buddhism continued throughout this period, but also looks to the Dunhuang materials to show that it was in fact the age-of-fragmentation narratives of demon taming that laid the groundwork for the emergence of a new, pan-Tibetan Buddhist identity beginning in the eleventh century. Central to Dalton’s project are a myth and a ritual. The myth is that of the subjugation of the demoness Rudra, in which a compassionate but wrathful Buddhist deity violently defeats the wild Rudra, using a means that Buddhism condemns (violence) and yet is used as a force for good in this case. This narrative encapsulates a theme that runs throughout the book: the Buddhist ambivalence towards violence, an ambivalence present in the tradition from its earliest days but which found its fullest expression in Tantric Buddhism. The ritual, on the other hand, is the so-called liberation ritual, in which a victim–usually an effigy is prescribed–is ritually murdered and then purified. Dalton focuses in particular on a Dunhaung ritual manual, which, incidentally, makes no mention of an effigy, thus leaving some doubt as whether or not the manual intends an actual human victim. This rite and the story of Rudra constitute a pair of sorts, and together served as a theoretical, historical, mythic, and practical model whereby the native, evil demons of Tibet could be tamed (i.e., ritually murdered and purified) and employed in the service of Buddhism. Dalton also demonstrates how the themes of violence and demon taming continued beyond the age of fragmentation. For example, a composite work called the Pillar Testament (late-eleventh to mid-twelfth c.) contains a legend in which the seventh-century king Songtsen Gampo had to subjugate the land of Tibet–envisioned as (and thus identified as none other than) a huge rāká¹£asÄ« demoness lying on her back–by pinning this demoness down with thirteen temples. In this way the legend carries the model of demon subjugation that was used at the local level during the age of fragmentation to a national level during the second imperial period. Later on, as Tibetans ceased to think of their own evil nature and autochthonous demons as the greatest threat to Buddhism and instead shifted their attention to peoples and powers at the periphery of their realm, the same model of demon subjugation was applied, with Tibet’s perceived enemies (particularly the Mongols) taking the role of sacrificial victim. The book’s content is wide ranging yet skillfully woven together through the dual themes of violence and liberation (i.e., demon subjugation).  Along the way we hear about the differences between Chinese and Tibetan receptions of Buddhist scriptural attitudes toward violence, Padmasambhava as a demon tamer, the Indian Kālikā Purāṇa, King Yeshe Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Jacob Dalton‘s recent book, The Taming of the Demons: Violence and Liberation in Tibetan Buddhism (Yale University Press, 2011), examines violence (both symbolic and otherwise) in Tibetan Buddhism. Dalton focuses in particular on the age of fragmentation (here 842-986 CE), and draws on previously unexamined Dunhuang manuscripts to show that this period was one of great creativity and innovation, and a time when violent myths and rituals were instrumental in adapting Buddhism to local interests, thereby allowing Buddhism to firmly establish itself in Tibet. While much twentieth-century scholarship faithfully followed Tibetan historiography’s assertion that the age of fragmentation was a dark time during which the light of Buddhism faded completely, Dalton not only confirms that Buddhism continued throughout this period, but also looks to the Dunhuang materials to show that it was in fact the age-of-fragmentation narratives of demon taming that laid the groundwork for the emergence of a new, pan-Tibetan Buddhist identity beginning in the eleventh century. Central to Dalton’s project are a myth and a ritual. The myth is that of the subjugation of the demoness Rudra, in which a compassionate but wrathful Buddhist deity violently defeats the wild Rudra, using a means that Buddhism condemns (violence) and yet is used as a force for good in this case. This narrative encapsulates a theme that runs throughout the book: the Buddhist ambivalence towards violence, an ambivalence present in the tradition from its earliest days but which found its fullest expression in Tantric Buddhism. The ritual, on the other hand, is the so-called liberation ritual, in which a victim–usually an effigy is prescribed–is ritually murdered and then purified. Dalton focuses in particular on a Dunhaung ritual manual, which, incidentally, makes no mention of an effigy, thus leaving some doubt as whether or not the manual intends an actual human victim. This rite and the story of Rudra constitute a pair of sorts, and together served as a theoretical, historical, mythic, and practical model whereby the native, evil demons of Tibet could be tamed (i.e., ritually murdered and purified) and employed in the service of Buddhism. Dalton also demonstrates how the themes of violence and demon taming continued beyond the age of fragmentation. For example, a composite work called the Pillar Testament (late-eleventh to mid-twelfth c.) contains a legend in which the seventh-century king Songtsen Gampo had to subjugate the land of Tibet–envisioned as (and thus identified as none other than) a huge rāká¹£asÄ« demoness lying on her back–by pinning this demoness down with thirteen temples. In this way the legend carries the model of demon subjugation that was used at the local level during the age of fragmentation to a national level during the second imperial period. Later on, as Tibetans ceased to think of their own evil nature and autochthonous demons as the greatest threat to Buddhism and instead shifted their attention to peoples and powers at the periphery of their realm, the same model of demon subjugation was applied, with Tibet’s perceived enemies (particularly the Mongols) taking the role of sacrificial victim. The book’s content is wide ranging yet skillfully woven together through the dual themes of violence and liberation (i.e., demon subjugation).  Along the way we hear about the differences between Chinese and Tibetan receptions of Buddhist scriptural attitudes toward violence, Padmasambhava as a demon tamer, the Indian Kālikā Purāṇa, King Yeshe Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Jacob Dalton‘s recent book, The Taming of the Demons: Violence and Liberation in Tibetan Buddhism (Yale University Press, 2011), examines violence (both symbolic and otherwise) in Tibetan Buddhism. Dalton focuses in particular on the age of fragmentation (here 842-986 CE), and draws on previously unexamined Dunhuang manuscripts to show that this period was one of great creativity and innovation, and a time when violent myths and rituals were instrumental in adapting Buddhism to local interests, thereby allowing Buddhism to firmly establish itself in Tibet. While much twentieth-century scholarship faithfully followed Tibetan historiography’s assertion that the age of fragmentation was a dark time during which the light of Buddhism faded completely, Dalton not only confirms that Buddhism continued throughout this period, but also looks to the Dunhuang materials to show that it was in fact the age-of-fragmentation narratives of demon taming that laid the groundwork for the emergence of a new, pan-Tibetan Buddhist identity beginning in the eleventh century. Central to Dalton’s project are a myth and a ritual. The myth is that of the subjugation of the demoness Rudra, in which a compassionate but wrathful Buddhist deity violently defeats the wild Rudra, using a means that Buddhism condemns (violence) and yet is used as a force for good in this case. This narrative encapsulates a theme that runs throughout the book: the Buddhist ambivalence towards violence, an ambivalence present in the tradition from its earliest days but which found its fullest expression in Tantric Buddhism. The ritual, on the other hand, is the so-called liberation ritual, in which a victim–usually an effigy is prescribed–is ritually murdered and then purified. Dalton focuses in particular on a Dunhaung ritual manual, which, incidentally, makes no mention of an effigy, thus leaving some doubt as whether or not the manual intends an actual human victim. This rite and the story of Rudra constitute a pair of sorts, and together served as a theoretical, historical, mythic, and practical model whereby the native, evil demons of Tibet could be tamed (i.e., ritually murdered and purified) and employed in the service of Buddhism. Dalton also demonstrates how the themes of violence and demon taming continued beyond the age of fragmentation. For example, a composite work called the Pillar Testament (late-eleventh to mid-twelfth c.) contains a legend in which the seventh-century king Songtsen Gampo had to subjugate the land of Tibet–envisioned as (and thus identified as none other than) a huge rāká¹£asÄ« demoness lying on her back–by pinning this demoness down with thirteen temples. In this way the legend carries the model of demon subjugation that was used at the local level during the age of fragmentation to a national level during the second imperial period. Later on, as Tibetans ceased to think of their own evil nature and autochthonous demons as the greatest threat to Buddhism and instead shifted their attention to peoples and powers at the periphery of their realm, the same model of demon subjugation was applied, with Tibet’s perceived enemies (particularly the Mongols) taking the role of sacrificial victim. The book’s content is wide ranging yet skillfully woven together through the dual themes of violence and liberation (i.e., demon subjugation).  Along the way we hear about the differences between Chinese and Tibetan receptions of Buddhist scriptural attitudes toward violence, Padmasambhava as a demon tamer, the Indian Kālikā Purāṇa, King Yeshe Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Jacob Dalton‘s recent book, The Taming of the Demons: Violence and Liberation in Tibetan Buddhism (Yale University Press, 2011), examines violence (both symbolic and otherwise) in Tibetan Buddhism. Dalton focuses in particular on the age of fragmentation (here 842-986 CE), and draws on previously unexamined Dunhuang manuscripts to show that this period was one of great creativity and innovation, and a time when violent myths and rituals were instrumental in adapting Buddhism to local interests, thereby allowing Buddhism to firmly establish itself in Tibet. While much twentieth-century scholarship faithfully followed Tibetan historiography’s assertion that the age of fragmentation was a dark time during which the light of Buddhism faded completely, Dalton not only confirms that Buddhism continued throughout this period, but also looks to the Dunhuang materials to show that it was in fact the age-of-fragmentation narratives of demon taming that laid the groundwork for the emergence of a new, pan-Tibetan Buddhist identity beginning in the eleventh century. Central to Dalton’s project are a myth and a ritual. The myth is that of the subjugation of the demoness Rudra, in which a compassionate but wrathful Buddhist deity violently defeats the wild Rudra, using a means that Buddhism condemns (violence) and yet is used as a force for good in this case. This narrative encapsulates a theme that runs throughout the book: the Buddhist ambivalence towards violence, an ambivalence present in the tradition from its earliest days but which found its fullest expression in Tantric Buddhism. The ritual, on the other hand, is the so-called liberation ritual, in which a victim–usually an effigy is prescribed–is ritually murdered and then purified. Dalton focuses in particular on a Dunhaung ritual manual, which, incidentally, makes no mention of an effigy, thus leaving some doubt as whether or not the manual intends an actual human victim. This rite and the story of Rudra constitute a pair of sorts, and together served as a theoretical, historical, mythic, and practical model whereby the native, evil demons of Tibet could be tamed (i.e., ritually murdered and purified) and employed in the service of Buddhism. Dalton also demonstrates how the themes of violence and demon taming continued beyond the age of fragmentation. For example, a composite work called the Pillar Testament (late-eleventh to mid-twelfth c.) contains a legend in which the seventh-century king Songtsen Gampo had to subjugate the land of Tibet–envisioned as (and thus identified as none other than) a huge rāká¹£asÄ« demoness lying on her back–by pinning this demoness down with thirteen temples. In this way the legend carries the model of demon subjugation that was used at the local level during the age of fragmentation to a national level during the second imperial period. Later on, as Tibetans ceased to think of their own evil nature and autochthonous demons as the greatest threat to Buddhism and instead shifted their attention to peoples and powers at the periphery of their realm, the same model of demon subjugation was applied, with Tibet’s perceived enemies (particularly the Mongols) taking the role of sacrificial victim. The book’s content is wide ranging yet skillfully woven together through the dual themes of violence and liberation (i.e., demon subjugation).  Along the way we hear about the differences between Chinese and Tibetan receptions of Buddhist scriptural attitudes toward violence, Padmasambhava as a demon tamer, the Indian Kālikā Purāṇa, King Yeshe Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices