Introduction

1

Polemics, in a broad sense of the term,¹ appear as a central force in the development of Buddhist scholastic traditions. The delimitation and definition of a certain position or group requires “boundary work,” a distinction from what is the “Other”—often conceived to be not just different, but wrong. As such, polemic was an accepted and vital principle of scriptural exposition in Buddhist India (laid out, for example, in Vasubandhu’s classic treatise Vyākhyāyukti).² Furthermore, the co-existence of different strands of thought and practice between Buddhism and other religious and intellectual traditions as well as within Buddhism itself led to questions of superiority, a problem whose solution is often narrated as a personal encounter between proponents of the respective traditions in formalized debate or another kind of contest.³ This propensity for polemics was one of the features that was inherited when Buddhism began to spread over the Tibetan plateau. Even the constitutional decision about which form of Buddhism was to be established and supported by royal decree is said to have been based on the outcome of a formal debate. While the historical details are unclear, this event is remembered as a debate between two factions:⁴ the Indian Buddhist tradition, as represented by Kamalaśīla, who favoured a gradual soteriological path with a focus on rational analysis; and, on the other side, Héshang Móhēyǎn / Hashang (hwa shang) Mahāyāna,⁵ as a proponent of a Chinese subitist approach, which stressed the elimination of all conceptual thinking. According to the common narrative, which solidified with the passage of time and continues to regulate scholastic discourses until the present day, the Tibetan ruler favoured the Indian side and expelled the Chinese Buddhists, thereby establishing the fundamental cultural affiliations and demarcations of Tibetan Buddhism.⁶ While this debate, which allegedly took place in Tibet’s first monastery Samyé (bsam yas) at the end of the eighth century, is particularly widely known, Tibet’s scholastic history offers plenty of accounts of polemical encounters. With larger monastic institutions taking shape in the eleventh century,⁷ it was not uncommon that scholastic adepts would prove their intellectual abilities in a “testing tour” (grwa skor), where they would leave their home institution and debate against scholars from other monasteries (see Dreyfus 2005, 294–95; Tarab Tulku 2000, 12).⁸ The institutionalization of Buddhist learning also provided the context for employing specific forms of debate as a tool for monastic education. So-called “debating institutions” (rtsod grwa) began to emerge in the fifteenth century and would dominate the intellectual and educational landscape for centuries to come (see Dreyfus 2005, 293). Adherents of different Tibetan Buddhist schools, in particular, used texts as a means to communicate and negotiate disputes, which enabled opponents to cover larger geographical distances or to link back to debates in the near or distant past. Eventually, this came to form a distinct literary genre, which is commonly denoted as “polemical literature”⁹ and pertains to two principal settings: works that criticise adherents of other positions (rtsod yig, dgag yig, etc.) and thereby initiate debates (rtsod pa) in the first place; and works that respond to such accusations (rtsod lan, dgag lan) and hence provide an answer (lan) to the former. While the identification of responsive works is relatively straightforward, the category of works that initiate debate is ambiguous and depends on later reactions as well—that is, whether a given work actually sparked a controversy.¹⁰

2

Even though comparatively few in number, works of this genre enjoy a particular prominence among Tibetan scholars for at least three reasons: polemical treatises are the prime medium to formulate and negotiate doctrinal differences; therefore, they are also important for identity formation, for delineating the borders of one scholastic tradition¹¹ against another; and lastly, polemical treatises are enjoyed for their rich literary features, the prominence of verbal insult and use of different stylistic devices, such as wit and irony, scathing metaphors, and also polemical comparisons, which turn texts of this genre into a spectacle.¹² While many polemical treatises emerge from personal disputes, they speak to a larger yet specialised scholarly audience. Similar to how reputation is gained on the debate yard, the expertise in Buddhist theory and sophistication in invective rhetorics demonstrated in polemical treatises is noted and will contribute to a scholar’s fame among his peers as well as rivals.

3

In fact, when reading polemical texts, one is often struck by sudden shifts in language and tone, and we find passages of rather dry and technical discussions of doctrinal matters juxtaposed directly alongside flowery and often highly insulting passages of a much different nature. Given the polemical character of the latter that is developed in combination with a skill in the domain of rhetorics, we suggest referring to such passages as “rhetorical polemics.” The former, in contrast, are focused on the subject matter at stake, which they explore according to fixed argumentative procedures. They are hence denoted as “problem-focused discussion” or “formal argumentation.”¹³ The main aim of this paper is to investigate how these two divergent aspects of polemical literature can be related in a meaningful way. This will entail two basic considerations. Through a close reading and contextualized analysis of textual samples, I will first of all show how passages of rhetorical polemics act as a structuring device and hence provide a literal frame for formal argumentation. Furthermore, I will argue that the repeated use of comparisons, allusions, or analogies documented in those passages of rhetorical polemics contributes to the construction of a conceptual framework, which facilitates locating opponents in a larger narrative about the correct and incorrect transmission of Buddhism on the Tibetan plateau.

The Encounter of the Tiger and Lion of the Old and New Traditions

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The prime textual material for investigating the relationship between rhetorically and argumentatively inclined passages is drawn from a particular debate that evolved in the latter part of the nineteenth century. The catalyst for this controversy was the interpretation of the ninth chapter (the “Wisdom Chapter”) of the Bodhicaryāvatāra, a renowned Indian Buddhist classic, crucial for—among other aspects—formulating fundamental ideas of Madhyamaka, the commonly accepted supreme philosophical system in Tibet. When Ju Mipam (’ju mi pham, 1846–1912), the emerging philosophical spearhead of the Nyingma (rnying ma) tradition, composed his commentary on this text in 1878,¹⁴ he formulated his ideas in stark contrast to, and sometimes as an explicit criticism of, the mainstream interpretation within the intellectually dominant Géluk (dge lugs) tradition. He was therefore confronted with several critical treatises from three Géluk scholars, writing from the huge monastic institutions of Drépung (’bras spung) and Kumbum (sku ’bum) in central and northeastern Tibet.¹⁵ This debate was therefore conceived of as a controversy not only between concrete individual opponents, but also as a critical exchange between the larger traditions of the Nyingma and Géluk schools. Put in this perspective, the issue is not only about different scholastic approaches and areas of expertise, with the Géluk dominating discourses of non-tantric Tibetan philosophical systems contrasting with the Nyingma’s focus on tantrism, but also one of institutional and regional power asymmetries. While the Géluk tradition established itself in often enormous monastic institutions that were also part of the political rule that reached out from the central Tibetan government, the Nyingma tradition was organized much more loosely. The latter saw a significant shift towards monasticism and a more systematic organisation of its doctrines only in the nineteenth century,¹⁶ in particular in Kham (khams) in eastern Tibet, where the influence of the Géluk was weaker.

5

Amongst the different individual controversies, the debate between Mipam and Pari Rapsel (dpa’ ris rab gsal, 1840–1912), a scholar of Kumbum Monastery, was particularly productive. Their extended exchange produced six treatises in total. While most of these took the form of personal responses, and in fact were at first circulated as individual documents, they were clearly aimed to include a larger audience in their attempts to establish and defend their scholastic traditions. This second aspect is corroborated by the fact that all of the treatises were included and preserved in their authors’ respective collected works, where they provide a rich testimony to the argumentative as well as rhetorical features of Tibetan polemical literature.¹⁷ Among Tibetan scholars, this debate is remembered as “the encounter of the tiger and lion of the old and new traditions.”¹⁸ This metaphorical description points to the acumen of the two opponents, as well as their roles as proponents of broader traditions, with Mipam representing the Nyingma—literally, the “old” tradition—and Rapsel the “new” traditions, Sarma (gsar ma), of which the Géluk is a part.¹⁹ Several details in the individual treatises inform us about the socio-historical context of their authors and thereby contribute to stabilizing common images of the Nyingma and Géluk schools, with the former being perceived as less concerned with monastic structures and more drawn to practical applications of Buddhism than the latter with its focus on institutionalized scholarship. In the colophon of one of Mipam’s texts, for example, we find the following note:²⁰

6

This [treatise] too [was composed] by a Nyingma monk called Mipam Namgyel (mi pham rnam rgyal) who had “slept” a few years in the midst of solitary mountains. At that time, he was residing at a mountain that was white in all directions and his ragged hair had grown long.

7

Obviously, sleeping is used as a synonym here for being immersed in meditation, and Mipam, perhaps in a self-humbling gesture, is referring to a period of extended retreat. He spent this time of intensive religious practice in solitude in a complex of caves near Dzongsar (rdzong gsar) in Kham, where he stayed most of the time during the years 1881–1893 (see Schuh 1973, XXXII). Rapsel, by contrast, was based at the debate college of Kumbum Monastery, a bustling monastic institution of several thousand monks in northeastern Tibet. He confidently refers to himself as a “logician” (rtog ge ba) who resides at “the great Dharma centre of Kumbum Jampaling, which rules over all directions.”²¹ Such markers of the different socio-historical settings of the two masters—one being described as a practice-oriented, solitary yogi, the other as a dialectically-trained scholar among other scholars—abound in their polemical treatises. Beyond their historical grounding, these allusions develop a life of their own and illustrate important features of the rhetorical repertoire of such texts.

Rhetorical Polemics versus Formal Argumentation

8

While in the past Tibetan scholastic literature, including polemical works, has been studied mostly with an eye to its philosophical and doctrinal contents as well as to the theory of argumentation, more recently other elements—such as rhetorical features and the practice of argumentation—have also caught the attention of scholars.²² As emphasized by José Cabezón and others, stylistic features are an important part of polemical literature and its popularity as a genre:

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In the final analysis it may be style more than anything else that explains the disproportionate appeal of such works. Polemical literature has glitz. It is to philosophy what action movies are to the film industry. A polemical work entices by titillating. It uses caricature, exaggerating the boundary between good and evil. It employs invective, insult, and at times even overtly violent language. (Cabezón and Dargyay 2007, 8)

10

Abusive language, ad hominem attacks, a rich repertoire of stylistic devices such as sarcasm and irony, and the frequent use of strong metaphors and insulting comparisons are fundamental to polemical literature, and appear at times in marked contrast to the technical discussions about philosophical and doctrinal matters that works of this genre commonly address. These stylistic features are often already in place in the titles of polemical works, which usually, as titles of Tibetan texts typically do, contain two parts: a more descriptive one that indicates genre or content, and a more ornamental one that provides a poetic label for the text.²³ One episode from the controversy in question may suffice to illustrate this point. When Mipam responded to Drakkar Trülku (brag dkar sprul sku, 1866–1928), one of the critics from Drépung, he called his work Illumination of the Sun: An Answer to an Objection,²⁴ thus clearly ascribing it to the genre of polemical literature and providing a poetic name for it. Following the same conventions, Drakkar Trülku responded with a much more graphic title: Emetic that Brings out the Inner Blood of Wrong Views: A Further Answer to the Objections of Mipam Namgyel.²⁵ While such strong language is not uncommon in Tibetan polemical titles, there is a considerable range in ways of addressing opponents, from more respectfully and politely to openly offensive. The exchange between Mipam and Rapsel, for example, seems to have been nurtured by mutual appreciation, as is reflected in the generally amicable tone of their conversations, as well as the mutual exchange of gifts (see Viehbeck 2014, 35; further also Smith 2001, 233). That said, their letters and treatises are not limited to sober discussions about the doctrinal and interpretational issues at stake, but also contain polemical comparisons, side blows, and ironic remarks. However, it seems that within any given text these two types of discourses—what I call rhetorical polemics, on the one hand, and formal argumentation, on the other—are clearly distinguished and treated quite differently.

11

Within passages of formal problem-focused discussion, the issues at stake are disputed according to a rather strict protocol: each accusation must be not only concrete and specific, but also backed up by proper argumentation or reference to authoritative scriptures. Individual lines of reasoning are formulated according to accepted logical principles and fixed argumentative procedures. This is also evident in the responses, which often discuss matters in a strictly chronological way, thus ensuring that the development of the discussion from one text to another is understood. The resulting dialogue is very much technical in character, which is also reflected on the linguistic level.

12

Passages of rhetorical polemics, by contrast, involve an entirely different register of speech, which has, for example, a much more colloquial, often more local, and much more poetic flavour to it. Here, accusations are made in a seemingly random and general way, often phrased as personal assaults. Obviously, these act as stylistic devices, and in this way do not call for any argumentative backup (e.g. when the opponent is called a drunkard). But on the level of rhetorical polemics, as well, individual phrases and accusations, invective labels, and comparisons are picked up and paid back to the attacker in the response. This is done, however, not in a systematic and chronological way, as it is in formal argumentation, but rather, the rhetorical elements are sprinkled here and there, as seems fitting in stylistic terms.²⁶ Both types of discourses therefore evolve as a kind of ping-pong play, but while one draws on expertise in logic and Buddhist theory, the other draws on mastery of rhetoric.²⁷

13

Besides the obvious stylistic function of rhetorical polemics, when the relationship between rhetorical elements and formal argumentation is investigated more closely, other functions can be detected. In terms of their mutual placement within the respective treatises, it can be argued that rhetorical elements act as a frame and structuring device for problem-focused discussion. But they are not completely unrelated to argumentative issues either, as the comparisons and allusions used as rhetorical elements can also contribute to constructing a larger conceptual framework for the debate as a whole. Both of these functions often collide in the beginning parts of polemical treatises.

Framing Debates: Rhetorical Polemics as Paratextual Elements

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The introductory sections of polemical texts are especially prone to containing rhetorical elements,²⁸ and in the exchange between Mipam and Rapsel, as well, passages of invective language and personal insult are placed at the beginnings of their texts. Rapsel, for example, introduces his first criticism of Mipam in the following way:²⁹

15

In these days, I have seen a Commentary on the Wisdom Chapter (sher Tika) by Ju Mipam. He has a biased view and is short-tempered; he blindly criticises any scriptures of his own or of others’ [tradition]. In particular, he is not familiar with the path of reasoning and hence he is tormented by the weight of contradictions between the explicit and implicit [meaning] of his own words and between earlier and later [statements]. While he mixes earlier and later traditions, thus akin to the tsampa of a beggar, he is drunk on the poisonous water of pretending to shout out the melody of the clouds of the beneficial scriptures. [His commentary] lacks essence and is an unclear compilation of the sayings of many earlier [scholars].

16

This cluster of personal polemics and insulting comparisons illustrates well the tone of such passages. Several grave flaws are ascribed to Mipam, without providing any real argumentative backup for these accusations. Clearly, there is a stylistic element to these paratextual introductory passages: their strong language entices the audience, and they invite the reader to continue into the main part of the treatise, which would then also have the duty to provide more argumentative substance to the earlier rhetorical accusations.³⁰

17

On the conceptual level, the idea of lineage or tradition is important. Here, Mipam’s writing is compared to the tsampa of a beggar. While tsampa, a special kind of roasted barley flour, is enjoyed by all Tibetans, the tsampa of a beggar is far less scrumptious; as it is gathered from different, unreliable sources, it is bound to be impure. The aim of this comparison is obvious. Mipam is accused of pretending to profess authentic scriptures, while in reality, these lack an authentic line of transmission and are merely a diverse conglomeration of statements of earlier scholars. Especially in Tibetan scholastic culture, which focuses heavily on identification with a specific lineage of transmission, this is a grave accusation,³¹ and it is hence not surprising that similar claims are also found in other treatises. In all of the treatises involved in the controversy, we find attempts to either legitimate a scholar’s belonging to a larger tradition or to question it. These commonly involve a listing of earlier masters of a particular tradition that traces its origins to Buddhist India. On the other hand, earlier detractors of the Buddhist teaching in Tibet are also mentioned, and hence a lineage of corruption is delineated as a contrast. With regard to such threats to the proper transmission, the figure of Hashang Mahāyāna figures prominently as the proponent of a corrupt form of Buddhism par excellence.³²

18

The introductory passages thus frame the main text not only in structural terms, but also conceptually. Both of these paratextual functions are witnessed also within the main text itself. Here, passages of rhetorical polemics and formal argumentation alternate, with the earlier displaying paratextual functions towards the latter.

Rhetorical Polemics as Structuring Devices: A Sample Passage

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In order to understand how rhetorical polemics frame formal argumentation in structural terms, and also to get a better grasp of the flavour of rhetorical polemics, it will be useful to take a look at a more extensive exemplary passage, which in itself contains the discussion of one single problem. The philosophical context of this passage is a discussion of the doctrine of emptiness and addresses possible objections against this doctrine. Here, an opponent objects to the teaching of emptiness by arguing that an understanding of the non-existence of a personal self is enough to be liberated from saṃsāra. Rapsel and Mipam, however, disagree in their interpretation of the characterisation of this opponent. The details of their arguments are complex but can be put aside for the present purpose. We are interested in the structural setup of the texts, rather than contents.

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Passages of problem-focused argumentation usually contain three basic elements: 1) a statement of the opponent’s position, often found towards the beginning of a particular discussion; 2) arguments against this position that point out specific faults within that position and also provide a concrete reason for this conclusion; and 3) a statement in which the attacker proposes a contrasting position of his own. This last element is likely to be present, but it is not obligatory. Passages of rhetorical polemics are found at the margins of all of these elements of formal discussion. They may introduce any of these three elements, as is sometimes the case, or they may appear at the conclusions of any of these elements, which happens more frequently. When placed before a problem-focused element, rhetorical polemics may anticipate the outcome of the later discussion, for example, by ridiculing an opponent before even stating his position or making an argument against it. When placed after a problem-focused element, rhetorical polemics tend to exaggerate and celebrate the outcome of a previously made argument. Often, verses containing rhetorical polemics are used to mark the end of a particular discussion, and in this context also act as a structuring device to separate one topic from another, which is extremely useful—or even necessary—as the texts often contain no detailed formal topical outline. This function is also reflected in the label of such verses as “intermediate verses” or “transitional verses” (Tib. bar skabs kyi tshigs bcad; Skt. antaraśloka),³³ as they are termed by the authors themselves.

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The sample passage is taken from Rapsel’s first criticism, and starts with a statement of the opponent’s position. In this case, this is provided not by way of a short paraphrase of the opponent’s positions, but through a literal quotation from Mipam’s commentary:³⁴

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[Stating the opponent’s position:] Further, you said in the Commentary (Ṭikka): “Although one understands that there is nothing like a permanent, indivisible, and independent [self], subtle self-grasping is not abandoned through this [understanding].”

23

This statement is followed by the first argument, which again contains two elements: first, an unwanted consequence is pointed out, and, second, the reason why this consequence will occur is declared:³⁵

24

[Argument (1):] It follows that [this statement] is unrelated [to the original issue], since the opponent [in the original text] accepts that self-grasping is abandoned by the path [practiced by him], but he does not accept that it is abandoned, dividing it into subtle and coarse.

25

At this point, the first argument is already completed. Before turning to the next issue, however, the attacker celebrates his triumph in the form of a lively expression of insult:³⁶

26

Defeat! As [it is expressed] in the statement “This is a vajra rock mountain!” you have no answer and it is truly as it has been said: “[Your] mouth has been shut and sealed!”

27

This passage also illustrates the significant shift in linguistic terms. While in the argumentative part, the language is technical, terse, and to-the-point, rhetorical polemics make use of a wide range of often regionally specific expressions and are more closely related to the spoken language. This again adds to the performative character of these passages.³⁷

28

The next argument shows the same structure as the first one. A reason is stated due to which the opponent has to accept an unwanted consequence:³⁸

29

[Argument (2):] Consequently, through those words [quoted earlier] you as well accept that subtle [self-grasping] is not abandoned, even though manifest coarse afflictions are abandoned through meditating on coarse selflessness.

30

After the point is made, a highly polemical passage emphasises the defeat of the opponent:³⁹

31

You do not know which way of reasoning to take for yourself, yet again you go after the realisation of the masters of the Sar[ma], Nying[ma], Kar[ma] and Druk[pa] traditions. You are a great drunk, and [you] should take a leave from the work of refutation and affirmation!

32

As was noted also in the introductory passages of the treatises, a personal criticism of the logical acumen or even moral character of the opponent, as well as the questioning of his legitimate place within the different religious traditions of Tibetan Buddhism, are common topics of rhetorical polemics. These insults then also mark the transition to the next argumentative element, that is, a statement where the offender provides an alternative interpretation of the issue at stake. This is introduced with a short polemical side blow, after which follows the actual statement of the offender’s position:⁴⁰

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In short: [You] should really let go of [your] recollection of the description of subtle and coarse self-grasping!
[Proposing a contrasting position]: It is, however, correct to understand [the passage] in the following way: Because of the example [used in the original text], a specification like “coarse” or “as explained in the Abhidharma” must be applied to the expressions “having abandoned or not having abandoned afflictions” [and] “being endowed or not being endowed with afflictions.”

34

This ends the argumentative part of this particular discussion and gives way to more polemical mockery:⁴¹

35

Should it be otherwise, then the following advice by the fifth Yapjé Gyelwé Wangpo (yab rje rgyal ba’i dbang po; that is, the fifth Dalai Lama) should be seen as the most profound instruction: “When, at the times of listening and reflecting, one cannot untie [the meaning of] the examples mentioned, then one should postpone the distractions of counting hopes and fears with the fingers and rest in the meditation of pretending to know [the meaning].”

36

This reference to a saying by the fifth Dalai Lama is, of course, bitter irony. As Rapsel clarifies in the next polemical insult, for him, only the practice of debate and reasoning leads to a proper understanding of Buddhism, and any meditative practice that lacks this logical basis must be seen as pointless:

37

And since I am [your] Dharma friend, arguing in the bazaar of disputation of the best scholars of the world, I also offer a gift of a heartfelt advice.⁴²

38

His actual advice then takes the form of poetic stanzas that are employed to mark the end of the discussion of this particular issue, as such intermediate or transitional verses commonly do:⁴³

39

Haha!
Arise! Leave from the bed of the scholars’ meditation!
Look! The lion of reasoning glides through the snow;
He measures the circumference of the snowy Mount Meru in an instant.
Where to will the asura flee who thought he was confident?
Hehe!
Drown in the depths of the ocean of fear of nihilism and eternalism,
Bound by the magical leash of various kinds of reasoning,
Suppressed by a Mount Meru of 1000 steps of stubbornness and confusion,
Sealed by the vajra of eternal changelessness.

40

These stanzas display a lively, colloquial format, as illustrated most pointedly by the opening interjections of loud laughter. As is common in such passages, they make heavy use of various metaphors and comparisons. The lion of reasoning is of course Rapsel, a logician amongst other logicians in “the bazaar of disputation of the best scholars of the world.” Mipam, by contrast, is likened to an asura, or “demigod”—that is, beings that inhabit the lower part of Mount Meru, the centre of the Buddhist universe, and which, despite their special qualities, are weaker than the gods, with whom they are engaged in an eternal fight. According to Rapsel, it is his “personal Mount Meru” of ignorance, sustained in the bed of meditation, which keeps Mipam suppressed and makes him succumb to the mighty lion of reasoning.

41

Particularly striking is the extent of rhetorical polemics. While of seemingly minor importance for the argumentative contents, they have a prominent place in polemical treatises, where in terms of relative proportions they sometimes exceed the formal discussions that are their counterparts. That said, it should be conceded that the clarity of the distinction between these two types of discourses may vary. Sometimes there are clear linguistic markers that separate rhetorical polemics from content discussion; at other times, these elements are tied more closely together. From a structural as well as a stylistic perspective, it can be argued that passages of rhetorical polemics act as a frame for formal discussion: structurally, as a marker and mount of the various argumentative elements; and stylistically, as a linguistically rich and lively contrast to the dry language of technical discussion which it encloses. Another form of frame emerges when considering the relationship between rhetorical polemics and formal argumentation in conceptual terms.

Rhetorical Polemics as Conceptual Framework: The Yogi and the Scholar—and the Hashang

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Rhetorical polemics commonly draw from a rich repertoire of mostly Indian imagery, making full use of various kinds of metaphors, allusions, and comparisons, as illustrated above. In the controversy between Mipam and Rapsel, there is a particular focus on using poetic expressions to align the two opponents with a typology that bifurcates experts of Buddhism into being more practice-oriented or more theory-oriented. In this scheme, Mipam is portrayed as the yogi par excellence: a religious practitioner who engages in meditation in solitary places, far removed from the bustling, larger monastic institutions. These institutions, in turn, are seen as the homes of scholars like Rapsel. Rather than train in meditation, these logicians must train themselves in the practice of reasoning as it is commonly fostered in the debate-focused education of the monastic institutions of the Géluk school.

43

This allusion to the two roles of yogi and scholar, of course, has a certain grounding in the living conditions of the two opponents. After all, Mipam spent larger periods of his life in solitary retreat, and Rapsel became famous for his achievements as a teacher at the debate college (grwa tshang) of Kumbum Monastery. Rhetorical polemics, however, exaggerate and simplify these roles to stereotypes. Mipam, in particular, was not just a yogi but also a formidable scholar. In his own tradition, he is remembered most importantly as a prolific writer of scholarly treatises, and during a sojourn to central Tibet he even spent some time at a philosophical college of Ganden (dga’ ldan) Monastery, one of the main institutions of the rival Géluk school.⁴⁴

44

However, rhetorical polemics clearly do not aim at a historically faithful and nuanced rendering; rather, they are set so as to caricature their characters. A couple of examples may provide a better understanding of the nature of such portrayals. Again, in passages that are clearly part of rhetorical polemics, Rapsel refers to Mipam in the following way, in his second critical treatise:⁴⁵

45

Understanding could come forth if you were able to hold a thesis at the great centres of learning. But even though you may compose many letters in solitude, this is simply a [useless] hardship!

46

A similar description is found in his first criticism:⁴⁶

47

This profound roar, a melody of a thousand strings of good explanations, is known in the maṇḍala of those who proclaim countless scriptural systems, [but] it is not advice known in every secluded mountain valley!

48

Not only is the uniform nature of these depictions striking, but also their frequency. While other metaphors and comparisons are used, references to the yogi-versus-scholar theme outnumber these other allusions by far. As most of these comparisons come from Rapsel’s side, one could argue for an immediate purpose of these simplified depictions: the denigration of his opponent Mipam as a merely practice-focused yogi and, at the same time, the enhancement of Rapsel’s own status as a scholar among scholars, as is suggested in the following stanzas:⁴⁷

49

Untrained in the path of reasoning, the retreatant Mipam
Is not grasped by the wind that kindles the fire of reasoning.
Hence, setting up [a line of] reasoning he refutes himself,
And is ridiculed by the assembly of logicians.

50

However, despite the harsh tone of rhetorical polemics, one has to consider the playful nature of such passages, which use both poetic denigration and praise as stylistic devices. The following passage, for example, also makes use of the yogi-versus-scholar scheme, but it depicts both as legitimate roles that constitute their own domain as different approaches to the same ultimate aim of the Buddhist teaching:⁴⁸

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The unequalled bliss of meditation is possible in solitude,
The secret words that emanate from the path of reasoning [befit] the Dharma centres.
Everybody has his own share of karma, they will not cross [each other];
[But] this does not mean that the wealth of great meaning is lacking [in either].

52

Even though rather harsh rhetorical manoeuvres dominate, passages such as these reflect the generally more amicable tone of the exchange between Mipam and Rapsel. How these are interpreted also depends, of course, on the audience. The two opponents themselves often refer to these polemical side blows as mere “teasers” (nyams mtshar)—a term that hints at the playful nature of rhetorical polemics.

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That said, their play on the yogi-versus-scholar scheme also has a broader conceptual dimension. The frequent allusions to this divide and the caricatured picture that is painted contribute to stabilizing a simplistic notion of these roles, which would resonate with a larger audience. In fact, stereotyping along a divide between yogis and scholars is a rather common theme in Tibetan intellectual history, as is the mockery that is associated with such typologies. The valuation of these roles varies according to context. In the popular life stories of so-called “holy madmen” (smyon pa)—yogis like Milarépa (mi la ras pa) or Drukpa Künlek (’brug pa kun legs)—criticism of overly-scholarly scholars is a typical element. However, in the more specialized scholastic discourses of which the majority of polemical literature is a part, the role of the yogi might easily be seen as the more problematic one. As the argumentative core of these texts is constituted by an expertise in the textual heritage of Buddhism and its accepted logical principles, qualities typical of a scholar are favoured. This is, for example, also obvious in the way that pure and corrupt lineages of the transmission of Buddhism are professed in the introductory parts of such treatises, as discussed earlier (see also Viehbeck 2019, 207–12, 2014, 50–57).

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A central element in the narrative construction of a threat to the proper transmission of Buddhism is the figure of Hashang. In later references in scholastic literature, both of the opponents in the Samyé debate, as well as their respective positions, are depicted in rather uniform ways, with the Indian Kamalaśīla representing the superior rational approach to the Buddhist teaching, and the Chinese Hashang representing the inferior focus on meditative practices. In this way, these opponents also stand for more general stereotypical roles, as José Cabezón explains: “It is to say that just as Hwa shang becomes the paradigmatic ‘other,’ Kamalaśīla becomes in some ways the paradigmatic defender of the faith, especially when the issue has to do, as it often does, with the question of quietism” (Cabezón and Dargyay 2007, 21). In this conception, Hashang’s position is depicted not only as antirational, as it would go against fundamental principles of authentic Indian Buddhism in its preference for meditative experience over rational reflection, but also as embodying a distorted approach to proper meditative procedure. Thus, Hashang is perceived as a particularly dangerous figure not because he is attacking Buddhism from an external, non-Buddhist perspective, but from a misguided understanding of Buddhism itself. And while he is perceived as a threat, the narratives also emphasize his defeat, and he emerges as a stereotypical erring, but ultimately losing, opponent.

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In light of the generally different approaches to Buddhism with which Hashang and Kamalaśīla are associated, as well as with regard to numerous smaller details in the narrations about these figures, it seems feasible to argue for a striking parallelism to the way the notions of the yogi and the scholar are developed in the nineteenth-century debates analysed here. Luckily, Rapsel spares us an elaborate argument for a close relationship between yogi and Hashang rhetorics, as such a connection is established in a much more direct way. The very same passages of rhetorical polemics that draw on the stereotyped yogi-versus-scholar scheme also make particularly telling use of comparisons and analogies to the figure of Hashang. Two examples from Rapsel’s first criticism may suffice to illustrate this point. Again, in a passage that is structurally and rhetorically not part of formal argumentation, Rapsel jokingly suggests that Mipam’s appearance as an ordinary monk is only a disguise. At heart, and in his philosophical position, he should be seen as the Chinese Hashang:⁴⁹

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Despite [your] great hypocrisy of pretending to belittle the Hashang view, […] there is no doubt that you have arrived from China, in the guise of a monk of the present age.

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This comparison is also drawn in another ironic passage, which directly relates Mipam to the standard narrative about Hashang’s defeat. In this narrative, it is said that when Hashang was defeated, he lost one of his boots when leaving the debate yard. This, in turn, was seen as an omen that his views would be left behind and still be present, as a possible threat, among later Tibetan Buddhists.⁵⁰ In a very straightforward way, Mipam is depicted to be one of them, in having gained Hashang’s boot as a reward:⁵¹

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There is no doubt that you follow Hashang Mahāyāna, but as you obtained [his] lost boot as your allotted share, you are not even to blame!

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Clearly, this is an accusation that cannot be left uncommented upon, and Mipam felt compelled to respond both in content-related as well as rhetorical terms. In his answer, he argues, as he also does in similar cases, that his position is not a personal innovation, but part of a long-standing tradition. This is commonly done by pointing to relevant quotations from Buddhist scriptures that his opponent also has to accept as authentic. The extent of these references, however, is remarkable. In order to prove the legitimacy of his own position, in this particular case, Mipam lists quotations from over one hundred and sixty passages contained in various Indian scriptures (in their Tibetan translations), and thereby also illustrates the scope of his scholarship.⁵² Beyond the engagement in serious argumentation, his response also functions on the level of rhetorical polemics, as his plays on words and various side blows at the very the end of this particular discussion demonstrate:⁵³

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Thus, these explanations that draw from the path of reasoning and are in accordance with the above[-mentioned] scriptures and their meaning establish those who propose the so-called “Great Madhyamaka, free from extremes” as the unsurpassable, long-standing tradition of the Conqueror (i.e., the Buddha). Hence, it is not the case that all those holding this tradition are merely people who take their share of Hashang’s lost boot. Rather, the sūtras and tantras, together with the commentaries on their intention, had come down as the rain of the Dharma of the Conqueror, the Lion of the Śākya [clan], prior to the appearance of Hashang. These were then brought [to Tibet] by the earlier kings, ministers, and bodhisattvas so that the people of the Snow Land can enjoy them. The stainless nectar of these [scriptures] is their very lot. Accepting this in a way that one does not exclude oneself, one certainly is exclusively someone with a good fortune!

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While Mipam often calls for more cautiousness in attributing certain philosophic viewpoints to the tradition of Hashang—clearly also as a manoeuvre to avoid such an association for himself—he knows and enjoys the ping-pong play of rhetorical polemics and their comparisons. In so doing, he also reproduces and reinforces the stereotypes that developed around the figure of Hashang in the larger perspective that the standard narrative of the historical development of Buddhism on the Tibetan plateau provides.

Concluding Remarks

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This paper aimed to explore crucial features of polemical comparisons in Tibetan Buddhist discourses, drawing from a set of treatises that were exchanged between Ju Mipam and Pari Rapsel, two eminent scholars of the late nineteenth century. While set in their specific historical context and determined by their authors’ concerns as well as literary style, a close reading and contextualised analysis of their respective works exhibited issues of a larger concern—with regard to literary conventions of Tibetan polemics in more specific terms and issues of identity construction in scholastic cultures more generally.

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Based primarily on stylistic and structural observations, it has been argued that the investigated treatises are constituted by two distinct discourses, termed as formal argumentation and rhetorical polemics. While earlier research on Tibetan scholastic literature has often focussed on the doctrinal contents negotiated in passages of formal argumentation, the consideration of rhetorical features addressed in this article shows how these two discourses can be related. As shown through textual analysis, passages of rhetorical polemics act as a structural and stylistic device: they delineate and frame different argumentative elements in structural terms, and add to the literary richness and quality of polemical works through their frequent employment of polemical comparisons, invective language, and other stylistic means. The consideration of polemical comparisons, in particular, also revealed a conceptual dimension of rhetorical polemics. By drawing on an imaginary in which the two opponents are equated to stereotypical images of Tibetan religious specialists—which are here depicted as following either a yogic or a scholarly approach—rhetorical polemics also formulate a conceptual framework.

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This framework and the stereotyped comparisons it entails make it possible, I argue, to connect to a larger vision of identity construction among Tibetan Buddhist scholars. In a simplified and increasingly solidified master narrative of the introduction and development of Buddhism on the Tibetan plateau, Tibetan Buddhists are depicted as the righteous keepers of the flame of authentic Indian Buddhism. In this vision, the authentic transmission of Buddhism is always under threat, and its contours must be guarded against possible dangers. This pertains to non-Buddhists, like proponents of the Bon religion in Tibet, but more importantly to threats from the inside, from people with a misguided understanding of Buddhism. In this setting, the figure of Hashang Mahāyāna is depicted as being responsible for a faulty transmission of Buddhism in the first place, and he is developed as the stereotypical “Other,” against which all proper Tibetan Buddhists must distinguish themselves. The rhetorical polemics, analogies, and comparisons endorsed by our nineteenth-century opponents connect to this grand narrative, and, at least from the side of Rapsel, suggest a close connection between yogic and Hashang rhetorics. Such comparisons thus allow Tibetan scholars to locate their opponents as well as themselves in a larger conception of the development of Buddhism on the Tibetan plateau. While articulated in the context of playful rhetorics, the pervasive character of this narrative resonates with a wider audience and hence also has an effect on the general perception of the two opponents. At the same time, by using and supporting this master narrative, our nineteenth-century opponents contribute to its further solidification, as numerous Tibetan scholars had done, in various ways, before the polemical exchange of Mipam and Rapsel.