Returning to the Source: Report on Translating the Words
of the Buddha Conference
For five days in March, several lamas and many of the world’s
leading Tibetan Buddhist translators came together at the splendid
Deer Park Institute in the Himalayan foothills of Northern India
for Translating the Words of the Buddha, an impeccably organized
conference that was several years in the planning. The aim was to
discuss the current state and future direction of Tibetan Buddhist
translation, but as we arrived few of us had any idea what to
expect.
From the very beginning however, it was clear that this would be an
extraordinary event. For one thing, there was our spontaneous
audience with the Gyalwang Karmapa while en route to Bir. Then,
there was the unprecedented gathering of illustrious lamas and
translators, including Jigme Khyentse Rinpoche, Tulku Pema Wangyal
Rinpoche, Dzigar Kongtrul Rinpoche, Doboom Tulku Rinpoche, Orgyen
Tobgyal Rinpoche, Ven. Matthieu Ricard, Robert Thurman and Gene
Smith—so many luminaries, in fact, that some of us worried that an
act of sabotage or a stray missile might set back the transmission
of the Dharma to the West by several decades.
But, above all, there was Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche’s defining and
momentous keynote speech. Standing before the Institute’s magical
Manjushri statue, modelled on one of the most sacred images in
Tibet, he announced: “The stakes are high. It’s our generation who
will shoulder the responsibility for ensuring that the Buddhadharma
continues to flourish in the world. We need to make a thorough and
effective plan for the future, and we must put it into
action.”
Both Khyentse Rinpoche and the conference chairman, Dzogchen Pönlop
Rinpoche, wasted no time in revealing what that plan would be.
Rather than focus on the works of Tibetan masters—as we had all
largely been doing up to that point—they suggested we must turn our
collective attention and resources to the vast Tibetan Buddhist
canon, comprised of the Kangyur, the ‘Words of the Buddha’, and the
Tengyur, the commentaries (śāstra in Sanskrit) of the great Indian
masters.
Khyentse Rinpoche told us frankly: “If I were given the chance to
set our priorities, what would be the top of my list? Without doubt
I would have to say that the teachings of the Buddha—the
sutras—should take precedence over the shastras. Then, as the
shastras written by Indian authors are more authoritative and carry
more weight, I would say that they should be translated before
those of the Tibetan authors.”
“Painful as it is for me to admit,” he continued, “Tibetans often
promote the teachings of their own teachers far more than those of
the Buddha… Today, as a result, our vision is quite narrow, and
instead of dedicating our limited resources to translating the
‘Words of the Buddha’, we pour them into translating the teachings
of individual lineage gurus, their biographies, their long-life
prayers, and prayers for the propagation of the teachings of
individual schools.”
Dzogchen Pönlop Rinpoche, in his speech, told us: “It would be
quite ironic to claim to be a Buddhist but have no idea what the
Buddha taught.” It is therefore crucial, he said, that western
Buddhists have access to the words of the Buddha.
Later in the week, His Holiness the Dalai Lama also spoke to us of
the importance of a return to the Buddha’s own words and especially
the classical Indian commentaries. Candid as ever, he explained
that the writings of the Indian masters contained in the Tengyur
are indispensable aids to understanding the words of the Buddha,
and more applicable to the modern world than the works of later
Tibetan teachers. “Tibetan authors,” he said, “often took it for
granted that their writings would be read by Buddhists, whereas the
Indian masters never took that for granted, leading to a big
difference in how their teachings were presented… Indian masters,
like Nagarjuna, Dignaga and Dharmakirti, presented the Buddha’s
teaching through reasoning and logic, which is why they are so
relevant to today’s world, in which many people are sceptical about
religion.”
Excitement was generated on the second day of the conference when
we received a letter from Chökyi Nyima Rinpoche announcing that his
Dharmachakra Translation Committee would appoint fifteen full-time
translators to the project of translating the Tibetan canon. Then,
in a second message, this time on video, he went on to say that his
group would commit to translate the entire Tantra section of the
Kangyur. This precipitated a unique wave of ‘bidding’, as other
lamas made similar commitments on behalf of their groups and
individual translators volunteered to work on particular texts.
Buoyed and emboldened by all these pledges, which made the plan
seem that much more realistic and achievable, we somehow set a goal
of translating the entire Kangyur, and a substantial portion of the
Tengyur and related Tibetan commentaries—amounting to perhaps as
many as two hundred large volumes in total—within the next
twenty-five years.
Outside the plenary sessions there were group discussions on issues
like translator training, resources, funding and peer review. Many
of these topics were also addressed informally, during mealtimes
and especially on the long bus rides to and from Himachal Pradesh.
There was obviously much to talk about and far too little time to
cover it all adequately, but steps were taken towards establishing
what Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche called “an ongoing conference… that
never closes because all the attendees continue to consult and work
together.”
As the days unfolded, there was a growing sense that we were
witnessing history in the making, an impression that had little to
do with the reporters and photographers, the team of bloggers
offering instant updates on our progress via the internet, or the
slightly incongruous Bhutanese television crew clad in their
traditional robes and knee-length socks. By the close of
proceedings, we had created something provisionally called the
Buddhist Literary Heritage Project, with Dzongsar Khyentse
Rinpoche, after repeated requests, agreeing to be its leader. We
had finalized goals for the next five, twenty-five and one hundred
years, and drawn up a long list of pledges from the various
translators and groups involved. Messages of support had come from
the president of Taiwan and the prime minister of Bhutan, and more
than eleven thousand people had signed an online petition
expressing their gratitude for our work. At the precise moment that
we completed our conference resolutions, a clap of thunder
resounded loudly overhead.
From start to finish, everything had gone auspiciously, and there
were indications of greater collaboration among translators than
ever before. In his closing remarks, Dzongsar Khyentse Rinpoche
told us that the conference had made the importance of translating
the Kangyur and Tengyur more vivid and obvious. This itself, he
said, had been a genuine accomplishment. In a manner befitting the
heirs of the Rimé movement, the lamas had argued for a shifting of
priorities, and we had all been convinced. The decision to host the
conference in India now made perfect sense: we were, in every way,
returning to the source of the Dharma.
This article was first published in View: The Rigpa Journal Summer
2009 edition, available here (in the US) and here (in Europe).
Photos courtesy of the Deer Park Institute and Matthieu
Ricard.<!-- google_ad_section_end -->