The Third Well-Spoken Branch: An Exact Account of How All the Victorious One’s Teachings Extant Today in the Land of Snow Mountains Were Put into Print
Introduction

Much more than just a table of contents, what is known as the Degé Kangyur Catalog1 takes up the entirety of the 103rd and final volume of the Kangyur. It is presented in five chapters. The first three give a detailed history of Indian Buddhism, its arrival in Tibet, and the production of the Degé Kangyur. The final two constitute the catalog itself, in which all the texts included in the canon are listed, and the merits of producing a Kangyur are extolled. The Catalog was written by the eighth Tai Situ Chökyi Jungné (1700–74), widely known as Situ Paṇchen, who presided over the entire project as its chief editor. Presented here is the third chapter, which concludes Situ Paṇchen’s history of Buddhism in Tibet with an account of how this Kangyur in particular was produced at the royal palace-monastery of Degé, in eastern Tibet, between the years 1729 and 1733 of the Western calendar. The chapter is presented in two parts. Part 1 presents a family history and a descriptive eulogy of the Degé Kangyur’s main initiator and sponsor, Tenpa Tsering (1678–1738), the king of Degé. Part 2 starts with a scholarly history of previous Kangyur collections in Tibet, and then gives an account of the editorial and practical challenges involved in the production of the Degé Kangyur itself.

Part 1 focuses on Tenpa Tsering himself as the “main initiator,” or sponsor, for the production of the Degé Kangyur. It is divided into three subsections: “Location,” meaning an account of the Degé region in general, and the palace-monastery of Lhundrup Teng in particular; “Family Lineage,” which presents a genealogical history of the Degé royal family; and “Qualities,” in which Tenpa Tsering’s own extensive sponsorship activities are described, and he is praised as an exemplary Buddhist ruler.

Following a pattern common to several of the subsections in this chapter, “Location” begins from a broad perspective, first presenting the entire Tibetan region, then gradually focusing more specifically on the Degé area, and concluding with a description of Lhundrup Teng monastery itself. In his general introduction to Tibet and the origins of the Tibetan people, Situ Paṇchen draws particularly on Feast for Scholars, by the sixteenth-century Karma Kagyü historian Pawo Tsuklak Trengwa, and in a way that both echoes and supplements that work, interweaves his discussion with citations from scriptural prophecies and canonical commentaries on the Indian epics.

“Family Lineage” traces the genealogy of the royal house of Degé to the mythic “pure divine tribe of Go,” (sgo lha sde dkar po), many generations before Tenpa Tsering. As stated by Situ Paṇchen, this section was largely based on a family record drawn up by the secretary of the Degé royal family at the time. Among the many notable forebears of Tenpa Tsering were, for example, one who, it says, served Drogön Chögyal Phakpa as his chamberlain (Tib. gsol dpon), received his own official seal from Kublai Khan, and appears to have been instrumental in the merging of religious and secular authority that characterized various scions of the Degé family in later generations. While the Sakya affiliation of many of these figures is apparent, Situ Paṇchen also notes the numerous Kagyü and Nyingma lineage connections of this illustrious family line, and the support that Tenpa Tsering’s antecedents had given the Dharma without sectarian bias (Tib. ris med).2 Lhundrup Teng itself, the Sakya Ngor monastery that was the actual site of production of the Degé Kangyur between 1729 and 1733, is described as both the “palace of the kingdom” and as an exemplary monastery.

The subsection “Qualities” is an effusive praise of the personal qualities of Tenpa Tsering himself. Tenpa Tsering was both the ruler (Tib. sa skyong, mi’i dbang po) of the Degé kingdom, and the hereditary throne holder (khri chen) of Lhundrup Teng monastery, a position he inherited from his uncle. In this section, Situ Paṇchen portrays Tenpa Tsering very much as an ideal Tibetan religious king who supported the Dharma and protected his subjects without exploitation or oppression. He begins by listing Tenpa Tsering’s generous sponsorship activities, such as commissioning statues, supporting construction projects at nearby monasteries (including the main assembly hall at Situ Paṇchen’s own Palpung monastery), and the production of texts, and then moves on to describe his qualities as an archetypal benevolent Dharma king. Here Situ Paṇchen cites a number of texts from the classical Indian genre known as nītiśāstra, or “ethical treatises,” which prescribe proper ethical behavior in the world, and the proper conduct of rulers in particular. Citing such treatises, Situ Paṇchen portrays Tenpa Tsering and his entire royal court as embodying an idealized vision of moral rulership reminiscent of the great Indian emperor and patron of the Dharma, Aśoka.

The second part of chapter 3 deals with the Degé Kangyur project itself. This, again, is divided into three subsections: “The Time of the Production of the Kangyur,” “The Manner in Which Source Texts Were Collected and Edited,” and “The Practicalities of Printing the Kangyur.”

Far more than giving a single calendar date, “The Time of the Production of the Kangyur” dates the initiation of the Degé Kangyur project using a variety of methods, beginning on a scale of eons and ending with the time of day. Again displaying the breadth of his learning, when dating this momentous event, Situ Paṇchen discusses four different traditions of calculating the Buddha’s birth and death. He also references Chinese, Indian, Mongolian, and Tibetan calendars, and the astrological systems of three different tantric cycles. He only then dates the beginning of the project in relation to more mundane events‍—seven years after the enthronement of the Yongzheng Emperor, and when Tenpa Tsering had reached the age of fifty-two.

Situ Paṇchen explains Tenpa Tsering’s initiation of this momentous project very simply as being the result of many lifetimes of good karma. Only sidelong allusion is made to the wider political and economic context that likely facilitated it. The Royal Genealogy of Degé, a text authored nearly a century after the Catalog by one of Tenpa Tsering’s descendants and successors as the ruler of Degé, states that during Tenpa Tsering’s tenure as the king of Degé, the kingdom grew considerably in territory, and it clearly indicates that this growth and the attendant ascent of Tenpa Tsering himself in power, prestige, and wealth was connected to Degé’s pivotal role in the wider Qing-Tibetan politics of the period.3 The Royal Genealogy of Degé says that when Tenpa Tsering was granted imperial titles by the Qing (first in 1728 and then in 1733), he was “empowered to act as general ruler of Dokham,” and received large quantities of silk and silver as gifts.4 Such events are only hinted at in the Catalog itself, as when, for example, Situ Paṇchen mentions that “his reserves of wealth increased sizably.”5 A little later he also mentions in passing that “even when the divinely mandated emperor Mañjughoṣa gained dominion over these Tibetan lands”‍— a reference to Qing emperor Yongzheng‍—Tenpa Tsering’s subjects continued to praise him as before.6

In “The Manner in Which Source Texts Were Collected and Edited,” the focus moves away from the subject of patronage, and on to the scholarly and practical challenges that Situ Paṇchen faced in collating and printing the Kangyur. Some readers might assume that the texts of the Kangyur have long existed in a singular, organized format that was transmitted from India to Tibet. This, however, is not the case. As Situ Paṇchen shows, the Tibetan canons we have today are an amalgamation of different scriptural collections produced by generations of translators and editors. This subsection therefore begins with a discussion of the translation activities undertaken during the Tibetan imperial period (629–841 ᴄᴇ). Here he describes the compilation of the earliest inventories of translated texts, the Phangthangma and the Denkarma, both of which were produced in the early ninth century.7 He also discusses how Tibetan translation practices were carefully revised and codified in the same period under Tibetan imperial sponsorship, and cites the commentary to the Mahāvutpatti, the Drajor Bampo Nyipa or Two-Volume Lexicon, at length.

As Situ Paṇchen explains, it was only after many more years of translation activity (known as the period of the “later diffusion of the teachings”) that all the translated canonical texts were then assembled, collated, and copied as a single collection for the first time. This happened in the early fourteenth century under the inspiration and guidance of Chomden Rikpai Raldri (1227–1305).8 The creation of this first canon, referred to by Situ Paṇchen as the Narthang Kangyur (and known in contemporary scholarship as the no-longer-extant Old Narthang manuscript Kangyur), involved comparing over twenty-five different collections of texts in various genres, all of which had to be found in monastic libraries scattered across Tibet.9 Situ Paṇchen then describes how this Old Narthang Kangyur provided the basis for the Tshalpa Kangyur, which in turn provided the basis for what became known as the Lithang Kangyur, produced in xylograph in the early seventeenth century in the eastern Tibetan kingdom of Jang Satham.10

This subsection also offers a remarkably transparent window into Situ Paṇchen’s own editorial and philological process. He tells us that although the Lithang Kangyur was used as the primary basis for the Degé edition, three other Kangyur collections were also consulted. These included what he calls the “authentic Kangyur”11 used by Anyen Pakṣi, a thirteenth-century disciple of Sakya Pandita, and the Lhodzong Kangyur, which belongs to the Thempanga recensional branch.12 This latter point is notable because in the centuries after the Old Narthang manuscript Kangyur was compiled, two major recensional branches developed, the Tshalpa line and the Thempangma line, with their own distinct aspects. In consulting both the Lithang and Lhodzong, members of the former and latter respectively, Situ Paṇchen creates a hybrid collection with features from both lines. He tells us that based on these other Kangyur collections he was able to correct minor errors like spelling mistakes and misordered pages, and that he also inserted “authentic sūtras and tantras” that were not present in the Lithang collection. In his editing process, Situ Paṇchen also consulted Sanskrit editions for some of the major tantras, such as the Guhyasamāja and Hevajra, along with their commentaries. He tells us that this extensive editorial process was an effort to establish the Degé Kangyur as a “trustworthy” edition of the Kangyur that is “superior to earlier editions.”

“The Practicalities of Printing the Kangyur” is a rare discussion of the material considerations involved in such a large printing project as the Degé Kangyur. Here, Situ Paṇchen gives us insights into the logistics of the project, including training, housing, and feeding hundreds of craftsmen and sourcing massive quantities of wood, paper, and ink. He also describes a workflow that involved teams of scribes and editors, multiple reviews, and hundreds of carvers. It can be easy for those of us looking at the Degé Kangyur on our computers to forget that we are reading the product of many thousands of wooden printing blocks hand-carved in mirror-writing!

This chapter draws to a close with concluding verses of praise that re-center Tenpa Tsering as the primary patron for the production of this Kangyur.

Although it is only twenty-seven folio sides in length, this chapter is remarkable for the wide range of topics it covers. Situ Paṇchen cites scriptural prophecies, historical works, and family records; he references esoteric astrological systems; and he even gives a history of the Tibetan script. Also notable throughout is the influence of classical Indian literary aesthetics as illustrated by the original Sanskrit composition with which Situ Paṇchen opens the chapter. The concluding verses also make reference to the legendary origin story of the four Vedic texts, which are said to have emerged out of Brahmā’s four mouths. Such erudite references certainly add to the sense of grandeur with which the historical information in this chapter is presented.

Our translation is based on the Degé Kangyur and the modern typeset Pedurma edition, though the latter was found to have many typographical errors. Given that the Catalog is specific to the Degé edition, there are, naturally, no variant readings to be found in other recensions of the Kangyur. Concerning the dating of this 103rd volume, since Tai Situ describes the consecration ceremony of the Kangyur conducted on its completion by the head of the Sakya Ngor tradition, the text must have been finalized soon after 1733, when all the other volumes had been fully completed.

While there are no English translations of the Degé Kangyur Catalog in full, it has been the focus of a significant amount of scholarship. Principal among these is Schaffer’s The Culture of the Book in Tibet, which deals extensively with the physical and social aspects of the Degé Kangyur’s production. Schaeffer’s work was very helpful in decoding some of the difficult passages in “The Practicalities of Printing the Kangyur” section of this chapter. In their article, “Notes on the Lithang Edition of the Tibetan bKa’-gyur,” Jampa Samten Shastri and Jeremy Russell present translations of the three section colophons of the Tshalpa Kangyur (also found in the Lithang Kangyur), which have a great deal of overlap with the subsection “The Manner in Which Source Texts Were Collected and Edited.” The subsection “Family Lineage” also has considerable overlap with the The Royal Genealogy of Degé, an early nineteenth-century text examined by Josef Kolmaš.