Relations between Indigenous Buddhist institutions and the imperial Russian state deeply influenced the religious life of the Buriat (Buryat) Mongols of Siberia's Lake Baikal region. A 2009 incident involving Russian president Dmitrii Medvedev's planned visit to the Buriats’ Ivolginskii Datsan (monastery) made clear the enduring significance of those relations. When it turned out that the lamas planned to acknowledge the Orthodox Christian Medvedev as a manifestation of a bodhisattva called White Tara, the visit had to be canceled to avoid an awkward situation (p. 1). But the lamas were simply following an earlier tradition, for Buriat clerics had lauded the czars as embodiments of the revered White Tara despite the state's restrictions upon Buddhism. Nikolay Tsyrempilov's Under the Shadow of White Tara focuses on such complex interactions between Buriat Buddhism and imperial authorities that were shaped by tensions between the former's desire for religious autonomy and the latter's drive for administrative control and Orthodox dominance.

Tsyrempilov's study unearths abundant fresh detail on the history of Buriat Buddhism by drawing extensively upon Russian and Mongolian materials held in multiple archives, along with a wealth of Russian, Mongolian, and Western published sources. The book is divided into a long introductory chapter describing the Buriats’ Tibeto-Mongolian Buddhism and outlining Russian policies toward non-Orthodox faiths; four chapters discussing relations between sangha and state in specific periods; and a conclusion summarizing the work. The book also offers useful maps, a glossary of relevant Buddhist terms, statistical tables on Buriat Buddhist institutions, and photographs of Buriat clerical leaders.

According to Tsyrempilov in chapter 2, “Building the Church of the Lamas,” soon after Buddhism entered Buriatia in the seventeenth century, the Mongol Buddhist world's division between the Russian and Qing Empires sparked the first Russian attempts to regulate Buriat Buddhism. Security-conscious administrators wished to “isolate the Buddhist community from religious institutions under Qing control” (p. 35), while Buriat lamas wanted the same recognition that the Qing state gave Mongolia's clergy. Accordingly, a 1741 law recognized the Tsongol Datsan's abbot, Ngawang Puntsok, as the sangha's head, exempted lamas from taxation, limited their number to 150, and banned Buriat contacts with foreign lamas. However, Catherine the Great (1762–96) favored Buddhism as a source of morality and good order, believing that Buddhist sedentary datsans might encourage nomads to settle. The new Tsongol abbot, Damba-Darzha Zaiaev (now bearing the title Bandido Khambo Lama), was granted audiences by Catherine, who gave him a medal and vaguely described religious privileges that he used to spread Buddhism (pp. 59–62). This patronage enhanced both Buddhism's legitimacy in Russia and the Bandido Khambo Lama's authority, as well as aided the spread of new datsans.

In chapter 3, “Dealing with the ‘Lama Issue,’” Tsyrempilov demonstrates how during the nineteenth century, tolerance gave way to restriction. Whereas Mikhail Speranskii, author of Alexander I's (1801–25) administrative reforms in Siberia, vaguely stated that “nomads of alien confessions shall freely practice their faith and rituals” (p. 79), Nicholas I's (1825–55) bureaucratic mindset and conservative nationalism demanded more precise regulations to control this alien faith. No single office handled Buddhist affairs, so different organs presented competing plans, heralding the “beginnings of a drawn-out conflict between two approaches: liberal and conservative” (p. 99). The Foreign Ministry, concerned that stricter treatment would complicate trade and diplomatic relations with the Qing Empire, favored a “liberal” approach, as seen in the 1832 recommendations of Pavel Schilling, who drew upon suggestions solicited from Buriat clerics. Their Kudun Charter defined Buddhism's institutional structure and the clergy's duties, accepted Russian authorities’ supervision, and required monks to “pray for the peace and happiness of the monarch” (p. 91). By contrast, East Siberian governor-general Aleksandr Lavinskii's “conservative” 1838 memorandum advocated such things as punishing monks for corruption and illegal cross-border trade, and outlawing proselytization among Orthodox and Shamanist Buriats “under threat of trial and punishment” (p. 107). Finally, the 1849 Charter of the Interior Ministry's Levashev (his given name is absent in the sources) represented a compromise between “liberal” and “conservative” positions.

Bureaucratic complications prevented the implementation of these plans, but as we learn in chapter 4, “Learning to Live Together”—which treats the evolution of imperial Buddhist policy between the 1850s and the turn of the twentieth century—legislation drafted by East Siberian governor-general Nikolai Murav'ev was more successful. Murav'ev's concern with Buddhism was tied to his plans for imperial expansion: “it was crucial to get the ethnic groups along the border under strict control, especially in Transbaikal, which Murav'ev saw as a critically important region in annexing the territory west of the Amur” (p. 125). Approved by Nicholas I in 1853, Murav'ev's Provision on the Lamaist Clergy of East Siberia specified the clergy's structure, hierarchy, operations, and interactions with secular authorities; limited the monks to 285; forbade building new datsans and asserted imperial control over monk discipline and the selection of the Bandido Khambo Lama. Murav'ev's Provision remained in force until 1917 and represented a compromise between the 1830s and 1840s proposals (p. 136).

But, as “Learning to Live Together” (chapter 4) also informs us, Buddhist policies—like nationality policies generally—became harsher under Alexander II (1855–81). Some officials blamed Russia's defeat in the Crimean War partly on its failure to integrate its minorities, while the 1863 Polish revolt also encouraged a more militant “ethno-nationalist course” (p. 137) toward them that continued under the subsequent rulers, Alexander III (1881–94) and Nicholas II (1894–1917). For example, East Siberian governor-general Nikolai Sinel'nikov destroyed shrines and ritual cairns in the early 1870s, dubiously dubbing them forbidden new datsans. Tsyrempilov also recounts how interference with the circulation of Buddhist literature further harmed religious life (pp. 152–59). Datsans had begun printing Mongolian and Tibetan texts during the early nineteenth century without permission. In 1880, the Interior Ministry allowed two Transbaikal datsans to print books but required their inspection before distribution: this denied Buriats access to the books since no censor could read them!

In the final chapter, “From Lamaism to Buddhism,” Tsyrempilov concludes by investigating the sangha's approach to dealing with secular power. Whereas Mongolia's Buddhists enjoyed the Qing state's support, Buriat clerics “found themselves in a place where Buddhism had few roots, where the people held shamanist beliefs, and where the secular authorities . . . were non-Buddhists [and] . . . did not want its expansion” (p. 167). So, Buddhist leaders from Zaiaev on used the traditional strategy of “skillful means” (Sanskrit upāya), subtly gaining the authorities’ favor in order to protect Buddhism. Such practices as audiences with rulers, visits to datsans by high officials and royalty (e.g., the future Nicholas II), lamas’ prayers lauding the rulers as manifestations of White Tara and protectors of Buddhism (Sanskrit cakravartin), and royal confirmation of Bandido Khambo Lamas all legitimized Buddhism before officialdom and the Buriat masses. Orthodox officials and conservative writers denounced these “skillful means” as “craftiness and trickery by the lamas who remained in their heart of hearts anti-Russian” (p. 181), but those efforts managed to carve out a space for Buddhism within the empire.

Throughout the book, Tsyrempilov deftly clears up misunderstandings caused by contradictory and fragmentary sources: for example, previous Russian historians and Buriat chroniclers had attributed the 1741 legislation to Empress Elizabeth (1741–62), but he shows that it was drafted by Siberian administrators. His lengthy analysis of the Schilling, Lavinskii, Levashev, and Murav'ev projects demonstrates that Russian officials’ approach to Buriat Buddhism was far less monolithic than we might expect in a centralized autocracy. Thus, this work shows a much more nuanced approach than earlier Soviet works that, while informative, were shackled in the straitjacket of Marxist anticlericalism.Footnote ¹

The most wide-ranging study of Buriat Buddhism in English, Under the Shadow of White Tara complements John Snelling and Alexandre Andreyev's specialized studies of the prominent cleric Agvan Dorzhiev and Buriat involvement in Russo-Tibetan relations.Footnote ² By situating Russia's treatment of Buriat Buddhism in the context of its policies toward minority faiths and its geopolitical ambitions in Asia, the book expands upon Paul Werth and David Schimmelpenninck van der Oye's treatments.Footnote ³ Under the Shadow of White Tara will be of great utility for students of native Siberian history, Mongolian studies, Buddhology, and imperial policy toward subaltern groups.