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11 of 11 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Classic Shambhalism, July 1, 2002
First published in 1980, this classic by ur-Shambhalist Edwin Bernbaum is now thankfully back in print. In the first couple of chapters Bernbaum covers the background of the Legend of Shambhala without the sensationalism and dubious scholarship which hovers like a miasma around many other Shambhalists. Some may object, however, when he goes on to equate the journey to Shambhala with an interior mental road of self-discovery. As another noted Shambhalist, John Newman, has pointed out, "Bernbaum's analysis of the journey to Shambhala in terms of three levels of consciousness - surface consciousness, subconscious, and superconsciousness - seems to owe more to Freudian psychoanalysis than to Buddhism." Also, despite what is said in perhaps a dozen other books, Bernbaum does not, repeat does not, include here extensive excerpts from the Third Panchen Lama's "Guidebook to Shambhala"; what he does include is a translation of the Kalapavatara, another guidebook to Shambhala on which the Panchen Lama's book is based, and also translations of excerpts from several other Tibetan guidebooks to the storied kingdom, all of which will be of extreme interest to dedicated Shambhalists. This book deserves a place alongside Andrade's "Novo Descobrimento do gram Cathayo, ou Reinos de Tibet, pello Padre Antonio de Andrade da Companhia de Jesu, Portuguez, no anno de 1626" on the shelf of any armchair Shambhalist's library, or in the portmanteau of any Shambhalic sojourner.
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6 of 6 people found the following review helpful:
4.0 out of 5 stars
Was Shambhala a MANICHEAN Rather than a Buddhist Kingdom?, January 16, 2007
I was first attracted to this book by my fascination with the Himalayas, my personal affinity for Manicheanism, and my hunch that Shambhala was in fact not a Buddhist kingdom, as is generally believed, but a Manichean one. That hunch came from a quotation offered in a PBS documentary, "The Search for Shangri-la with Michael Wood," which is based upon the travels of the Portugese Jesuit Antonio Adrade. It contained a quotation from the Tantra of the Great Circle of Time, as follows:
"One day greed and ignorance will lay waste to the earth, and an evil king will triumph and spread his power over all humankind. But just when it seems there is nothing left to conquer, then the mists will lift to reveal the icy mountains of Shambhala. Then the king of Shambhala will ride forth, and overthrow the forces of evil, and wisdom will at last be enthroned upon the earth."
That sounded Manichean to me. I began to look for books about the search for Shangri-la, which was originally called Shambhala, and came across Edwin Bernbaum's THE WAY TO SHAMBHALA. Bernbaum quite insightfully concludes that Shambhala is a real place hidden in time rather than space-- "an ancient kingdom that passed long ago into myth." (p. 40) He has passages which echo the above legend, and attributes them to the influence of Manicheanism (Gnosticism) and that of its parent religion, Zoroastrianism (pp. 42, 99). He goes into greater detail about the final confrontation between the evil king and the lord of Shambhala, who is called Rudra Cakrin, "The Wrathful One with the Wheel":
"You, the best of holy teachers, will ride a stone horse with the power of wind; Your hand will thrust a spear into the heart of Chipa, King of the Barbarians. Thus shall the forces of evil be defeated..."
The final outcome of this battle will usher in a golden age, "better than anything that has happened before." (pp. 22-23). Again Manicheanism-- certainly the painting depicted in Bernbaum's Plate 4, showing Rudra Calkin in a field of battle surrounded by slain horses and people, does not seem to evoke the Buddhist ideal of ahimsa or non-violence.
Furthermore, unlike Wood and Father Andrade, the latter of whom he does not even mention, Bernbaum locates the historical Shambhala not in the Himalayas, but far to the north, in the Tarim Basin or Turfan Depression between the Tien Shan and Kunlun Mountains. "Established by the Uighurs, a Turkish people around 850, the kingdom of Khocho flourished for four hundred years as a remarkable oasis of culture and learning. A predominantly Buddhist country [sic], with numerous monasteries, it also had active centers of Manicheanism and Nestorian Christianity... At the time the Kalackra [the chief source for information about Shambhala] appeared in India, the kingdom of Khocho probably possessed the most advanced civilization of any country in Central Asia. Well-irrigated fields and orchards produced enough surplus food to allow the Uighurs to run welfare programs for the poor. Living together in peaceful harmony, people of different races, religions and languages stimulated each other's thought and culture. Paintings found in the ruins of Turfan show houses built in the Chinese style, men and women dressed in embroidered silk, and a chamber ensemble complete with harps, guitar, and flutes. Even the Chinese, the most fastidious connoisseurs of culture, were impressed by the grace of Uihur society." (pp. 42-43)
But was Khocho really Buddhist? According to Hans-Joachim Klimkeit, Translator and Editor of GNOSIS ON THE SILK ROAD: GNOSTIC TEXTS FROM CENTRAL ASIA, it may have been more Manichean that Buddhist: "in the Turkish state of Kocho (850-1250), for some time at least, Manicheanism had the status of an official religion." (p. 11-- see also p. 157). the majority of extant Manichean literature in the world today comes from the ruins of the Kingdom of Khocho, and the rulers of Khocho, with their capital at Gaochang, are pretty universally considered to have been Manichean. As Dr. Priyatosh says in "The Spread of Indian Art and Culture to Central Asia and China," "The Uighur rulers adopted Manicheanism as their personal faith but they were tolerant of other religions." (http:ignca.nic.in/pb0013.htm). There can be no doubt that Manicheanism lived peacefully side-by-side with Buddhism. But it was not the same as Buddhism, though it used Buddhist terms. As Klimkeit says, "On closer inspection, the Buddhist terms turn out to be mere husks around an unmistakably Manichean kernel." (p. 5)
Why does it matter whether Shambhala was predominantly Buddhist or Manichean? What is the difference? The difference is this. To Buddhists, evil is an illusion stemming from the personal ego. When one transcends one's ego and achieves enlightenment, evil will disappear (see the Introduction to ENTERING THE STREAM: AN INTRODUCTION TO THE BUDDHA AND HIS TEACHINGS, edited by Samuel Bercholz and Sherab Chodzin Kohn). To Manicheans, with their dualistic concept of an eternal battle between the forces of Light and Darkness, evil is a reality. Thus something stronger than personal enlightenment is required to dislodge it. Despite the pacific protestations of the self-proclaimed "Neo-Manicheans" (see Wikipedia's article on Neo-Manicheanism), Manicheanism is a fundamentally MILITANT religion. Militant need not mean "violent", but it may, if-- to use the argument put forward by Thomas Jefferson in the Declaration of Independence-- all other means of fighting evil have been exhausted. Manicheanism can impel the enlightened individual in a completely different direction from that taken by Buddhist sages, not to an essentially escapist quest to attain nirvana, but to help the God of Light in his struggle against the forces of evil by combating evil here on earth. Does not the legend of Shambhala accurately describe the world as it is today? Could it not have been a premonition of the very situation that we face, in which an oppressive and seemingly all-powerful government tramples unchecked over the peoples of the world? And does it not call forth the adherents of the God of Light to oppose it in that final battle against injustice and cruelty?
As a final comment on Bernbaum's book, I found it balanced and even delightful in parts, such as his description of his own discovery of a Shambhala-like "hidden valley" (pp. 60-61). But when he began to expound upon Buddhist theology in Chapter 5, I put the book down. I had read that sort of thing and rejected it all long before.
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6 of 7 people found the following review helpful:
5.0 out of 5 stars
Great Road-Trip Reading, November 27, 2004
The Way to Shambhala is a lovely read and an excellent traveling companion, because the whole book is about different kinds of journeys (some physical, some personal) and destinations. There's certainly enough detail to capture the imagination, but not so much that the prose loses momentum. It's a pleasure to read an intelligent inquiry like this. If you find me at an airport or highway rest area, and you steal my bag, you'll probably find this book and nothing else of value. Don't steal my bag.
When you travel with this book on the brain, you begin to find Shambhalas. I'm referring to those oases of beauty and sanity that take a lot of work to reach, and are (to you at least) unexpectedly right-on. One example for me was the town of Enterprise in Wallowa County, Oregon. Kind people, good coffee, incredible mountains...and the journey!
Happy travels...
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