Several nomadic communities embraced this message and let Ja-Lama for Has Bator. Unfortunately, the new Amursana was not able to live up fully to Bolshevik expectations, lacking the courage to play his part well in a life-and-death situation. At one point, surrounded by a renegade band of cutthroat Whites, he lost his nerve, literally peed in his pants, and deserted his comrades by escaping into the i elds, where the counterrevolutionaries quickly caught and shot him. h e Whites chopped of the head of the poor revolutionary reincarnation and carried it around as proof that the Red pretender was destroyed.
h e person who actually helped i nish Ja-Lama was his own comrade-in-arms Hatan Bator (Hard Hero) Magsarjav (1878–1927). He and Ja-Lama fought the Chinese together in 1913. Later General Magsarjav aided the Red Mongols to such an extent that they named him secretary of war in the new revolutionary Mongolia, which eventually secured him a spot in the pantheon of Mongol Communist heroes. What made the newly minted revolutionary general a dangerous opponent of Ja-Lama was that he was an oracle endowed with large spiritual power of his own. Hard Hero frequently went into a trance, predicting the dates and outcomes of his battles. Magsarjav was believed to be invincible 140
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to his enemies, and like his former friend Ja-Lama, he did not miss a chance to “prove” it. At er a military clash, Magsarjav could be seen pulling from inside his robe a bullet or two that had “hit” him and was still warm. Like other oracles, during his trances Magsarjav merged with avenging Buddhist deities, building up his anger to i ght enemies of the faith and nation. Besides, Hard Hero was equally ruthless and did not shy away from chopping of the heads and ripping open the chests of his opponents, whose blood he used to smear revolutionary banners. 17
h e Bolsheviks did not want to waste their time storming the totalitarian paradise erected by Ja-Lama. In 1923, the OGPU secret police along with State Internal Protection (GVO), its sister organization in Mongolia headed by Khaian Khirva, developed a special operation to dispose of Ja-Lama once and for all. Acting as religious pilgrims, a Mongol secret police agent named Nanzan, along with two other Red
“lamas” went to Ja-Lama’s headquarters to receive blessings. While talking to Ja-Lama, Nanzan suddenly pulled out a revolver and shot him point-blank a few times in the head. Like many others Mongols, the agent was under the impression that Amursana might somehow be invincible to bullets, so to make sure the notorious lama was i nished, with trembling hands Nanzan emptied his Colt into Ja-Lama’s neck and chest, severing his head.
h e sudden execution of Ja-Lama so stunned and demoralized his l ock that nobody of ered any resistance, and the secret police pilgrims triumphantly let the compound carrying the head. Nanzan dropped it into a bucket i lled with vodka for preservation and carried it to one of the major towns in western Mongolia, where it was placed on a lance at a central plaza to prove the famous Ja-Lama was i nally gone. h e new masters explained to the local populace that the new Red order in Mongolia was a fuli llment of the old Amursana prophecy.
In other parts of the country, Bolshevik fellow travelers similarly milked other epic tales and legends. “But of greatest appeal was the promise of achieving an earthly utopia with the aid of an apocalyptic 141
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army from the unearthly realm of Shambhala,” as historian Larry Moses reminds us. 18
Bolsheviks at the Gates of Lhasa
h e romantic expectations of the coming worldwide revolutionary holocaust and their stunning success in Mongolia inspired the Bolsheviks to roll on southward to Tibet and farther to storm the Himalayan heights on the way to India. So Tibet was the next item on their agenda.
Ideally, the goal was to replay in the Forbidden Kingdom the Mongol scenario: i nd a national liberation cause to latch onto, use existing prophecies, build up revolutionary cells, and stir the indigenous folk to rebel against an oppressor. In Mongolia, the oppressors were the Whites and Chinese merchants. In Tibet, the major candidate for this role was to be England.
In their revolutionary geopolitics, the early Bolsheviks never separat-ed Siberia and Mongolia from the rest of Inner Asia. In their dreams, a map of the entire area was soon to be painted red. Chicherin, Commissar for Foreign Af airs, envisioned Mongolia as “a solid jumping ground in the advancement of revolutionary ideas to Tibet and India.” 19 In this game of setting Inner Asia on i re, Sergei Borisov was again destined to become one of the major players. By 1921, senior Bolshevik comrades noticed the zeal of this Oirot fellow traveler, made him a member of their party, and, on top of this, awarded him a position of consultant at Chicherin’s commissariat.
In fact, Tibet and her environs were already on the Bolshevik agenda as early as the fall of 1920, before Ungern stormed into Mongolia. h e guidelines set by Comintern for the Mongol-Tibetan Section directed its agents “to gather data about the situation in Tibet and her relations with China and England, political sentiments, armed forces, and the extension of foreign inl uence.” Comintern agents were also instructed
“to i nd among Tibetans who live in Mongolia, particularly in Urga, persons who by their political convictions can be used by the section 142
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as interpreters both in Irkutsk and in Urga, and also be sent to Tibet for propaganda work.” h
e next set of guidelines issued two weeks later instructed the agents to “urgently establish connections with Tibet”
and to “urgently i nd among Tibetans who live in Mongolia” qualii ed people for propaganda work. 20 h e Bolsheviks clearly shared a naive belief that all Tibetan Buddhist areas would soon fall easily into their hands.
Although the Bolsheviks were still working to secure their victory in Mongolia, Chicherin, Shumatsky, and Borisov were already contemplating a reconnaissance expedition to Tibet in the summer of 1921. In early July, amid information about progress in Mongolia and the capture of Ungern, Shumatsky reported in a secret cable to Chicherin and Meer Trilisser (then a Comintern boss, later chief of the foreign intelligence branch of OGPU): “We are now thinking about the best route for the expedition and gathering all necessary gear. As far as the machine gun is concerned, do not send it. I will get it here. If I receive all the items I requested from you, the Tibetan expedition will depart no later than August 1.” 21 h e most important item, which Shumatsky and Borisov were impatiently awaiting, was a wireless radio set they planned to leave with the Dalai Lama to set up a direct line of communication between Lhasa and Moscow. Two young Kalmyk revolutionaries, who were undergoing a crash radio course, were expected to stay and operate the device in Lhasa.
Yet the expedition had to be postponed because the silver set aside for the Tibetan venture was spent for urgent Mongolian needs. A few more months passed before Shumatsky raised new funds to get the project going. Finally the radio set arrived in Irkutsk, and the polyglot Bolshevik cabled Chicherin: “h e radio transmitter has been received. I easily delivered it here by myself. Please make sure that those chaps who study radio and cable communication in Moscow know how this particular model works in order to be able to start it right away upon arrival in Tibet.” 22 h e former Dalai Lama tutor Agvan Dorzhiev, who was with Shumatsky and Borisov all this time, whetted the Bolsheviks’
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Tibetan appetites, trying to sell them his cherished project of uniting all Tibetan Buddhists into a large theocratic state under Red Russia’s protection.
But Tibet turned out to be a tough nut. It was not so easy to crack as Mongolia, and the Dalai Lama was not as submissive as the Bogdo-gegen. h e Bolsheviks operated under a false impression that in Tibet they could easily milk the English threat, stretching out their helping hand and drawing the populace to their side. Unfortunately, the hated English imperialists did not even want to take over Tibet, preferring instead to keep it as a buf er between India and Russia/China. It took Moscow three expeditions to realize that there was no imminent threat to Tibet from England and that the Dalai Lama was simply a shrewd diplomat who skillfully played China, Russia, and England against each other without allowing any of them to get a foothold in his country.
Given the traditional isolation of the Forbidden Kingdom, it was not hard for the Lhasa ruler to pursue this policy. At er all, still in ef ect was the 1870s’ decree, “If somebody penetrates our country, whoever he is, all possessions of this person shall be coni scated, and he shall be sewed into a skin bag and thrown into a river.” 23 Even though the Dalai Lama used some knowledge of the English to make his nation a bit more modern, he always kept them at bay.
To reach out to Tibet, the Reds used two approaches. First, they tried to lure the Dalai Lama to their side. Second, they wanted to identify within the Tibetan populace discontented groups they could incite to ignite a revolutionary holocaust. First and foremost, the Bolsheviks needed reliable information about Tibet, which still remained terra in-cognita for Moscow revolutionaries. From Dorzhiev, Shumatsky found out that one of the secretaries of the Dalai Lama was a Kalmyk monk named Sharap Tepkin. h is prompted Shumatsky, with some hesitation, to chose Vasilii Khomutnikov, a Red Army cavalry oi cer of Kalmyk origin who had fought against the Whites during the Civil War and then helped the Red Mongols build up their army, to lead the i rst mission to Lhasa. Although he was crude and could barely write, he was loyal 144
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to the cause and, most important, was a Kalmyk, which the Bolsheviks expected would ease access to the Lhasa ruler.
On September 13, 1921, Khomutnikov, with nine Kalmyk and Buryat comrades, traveled as part of a caravan of “peaceful” Mongol pilgrims and merchants, carrying i t een hundred ril es, one million cartridges, machine guns, and grenades. h
is impressive arsenal had been seized
from the bloody Baron Ungern. On top of this, using expedition funds, Khomutnikov continued to purchase ril es from local people en route.
As a military man, he might have reasoned that soon his comrades would need all these weapons to bring revolution to the Himalayan kingdom. Alarmed by such hazardous cargo, Tibetan border guards blocked the pilgrims on the border, but a reference letter from Dorzhiev to the Dalai Lama unlocked the doors. Once in Lhasa, Khomutnikov did not hide his Bolshevik identity and openly tried to sway the Dalai Lama to his side. Yet, despite generous git s of silverware, a golden clock, and a mysterious talking machine (the wireless radio), the Lhasa ruler was apprehensive about the cavalier advances of the Red emis-sary and did not want to take sides. Only at er Khomutnikov repeatedly assured the Dalai Lama that the Bolsheviks respected Buddhism did he warm a bit and even asked the Moscow visitor for Red Russian to send military instructors and to help organize the manufacturing of gunpowder—creating a well-equipped modern army was a major concern of the Dalai Lama. Khomutnikov answered that his government would be happy to accommodate the military needs of the Lhasa ruler.
Still, the cautious Dalai Lama wanted to have more time to think this over, so it was decided to talk further about military cooperation as well as about establishing diplomatic relations during a second expedition from Soviet Russia to Tibet. Khomutnikov also received permission to look around, and he talked with several people from the government and with monks, some of whom expressed strong anti-English feelings.
Encouraged by these talks and by the Dalai Lama’s promises, the Bolshevik ambassador, who spent almost three weeks in Lhasa, let the Tibetan capital on April 9, 1922.
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Comintern Agent Borisov Becomes a Lama Pilgrim h e Bolsheviks’ hopes for Tibet rose in 1924 when they learned about clashes between reformers (a military faction) who favored England and conservative lamas who resisted modernization. Chicherin and Borisov saw this as the beginning of a class war in the Himalayan kingdom between the pro-English “capitalist” faction and “progressive” clergy. So it was time to send a second mission to i nd out what was going on in Tibet and to try again to win over the Dalai Lama. Borisov, now done with his job of turning Mongolia Red, could devote himself to Tibetan matters.
To smooth this new Lhasa mission, the atheist Borisov was to act like an inl uential Buryat lama pilgrim on a mission to reach out to His Holiness on behalf of both his Siberian brethren and the Soviet government. Updating the Soviet elite about the coming expedition, Commissar for Foreign Af airs Chicherin stressed, “Comrade Borisov and his travel companions will conduct this expedition in the capacity of religious pilgrims.” 24 Besides Borisov and a few other fake lamas, the party was i lled out with several genuine Buddhist pilgrims to make the masquerade more credible. h e whole Buddhist showmanship was intended to hide Red Russia’s advances into Inner Asia. A year earlier, aggressive ef orts of the Bolsheviks to push the revolutionary tide to the Indian border had prompted the English government to threaten Moscow with shutting down all trade with Red Russia. In response, the Bolsheviks, hungry for Western technology and goods, promised to mute their revolutionary zeal.
