The general foundation for the symbolism of the mountain is simple: since the earth has been associated with everything human (the etymology of the word "human" is from humus, soil), the earth's peaks, which reach to the sky and which are transfigured by perennial snow, were spontaneously regarded as the most apt material to express, through allegories, transcendental states of consciousness, inner spiritual realisations, and apparitions of extra normal modes of being, often portrayed figuratively as gods and supernatural beings.
- Baron Evola,
Some Remarks Concerning the Divinity of the Mountains
Moreover, it is not likely to be conquered again any time soon since the good government of Sikkim, the northern mountainous province of India on the border of which the mountain is located, has issued a decree that no further climbing expeditions will be permitted. The reason for this is that the mountain is regarded as sacred, and the spectacle of disrespectful mountaineers climbing and very often dying all over it outraged religious authorities. The former King of Sikkim, who was deposed when the republic of India annexed the territory, held a firm policy on this, and it has now been renewed by the provincial authorities. The mountain has always been sacred to the Sikkimese people – the mountain’s immense presence dominates the entire territory – and they will not permit foreigners to trample its sacred snows. Even when in the past climbing parties were permitted on the mountain they were required to agree to stop short of the summit itself out of respect for the gods of the mountain. This was a sensitivity observed by most mountaineers. One party, for example, climbed the mountain but planted their flag of triumph six feet from the actual summit as a gesture of respect. (No doubt the megalomaniacal Crowley would have shunned this convention if he had had the chance.)
This, at least, is the case for those who approach from Sikkim. Unfortunately, the mountain can be accessed from Nepal to the west and the Nepalese – more interested in revenue from climbing permits - impose no such requirements. Mountaineers can violate the summit through Nepal, that is to say, and indeed they do. There are those mountaineers who scoff at the Sikkimese and, contrary to the wishes and pleas of the Lamas and Brahmin, summit the sacred mountain through Nepal instead. This is the same fraternity, let us recall, who have in recent times trashed Mount Everest to the extent that it is now a rubbish dump of litter and dead bodies. Comments by representatives of this fraternity suggest that they do not really appreciate what is at stake. A certain Mr. Bauer, an Austrian and spokesman for a group clambering to climb the north-east face (his grandfather tried twice and failed) denounced the ban and said, "We revere mountains in Austria too. Climbing does not mean the mountains and landscape cannot be preserved, but it does give the locals an opportunity of making some money.”
Readers will note what these comments reveal about Mr Bauer’s values. For him it is a matter of “revering” mountains – we revere them, that’s why we climb them -, of environmental conservation and, yes, money. But none of these concerns are within the orbit of the concerns of the Sikkimese. Mr. Bauer’s concerns are entirely secular. They do not actually address the idea that the mountain is sacred. The entire category of “sacred” completely escapes Mr. Bauer, it would seem. Even the contemporary Western phenomenon of “eco-spirituality” which, if we are kind, we might ascribe to Mr. Bauer’s comments, really belongs to an entirely different order of ideas. What we have here is a clash of modernity and tradition. The good people of Sikkim – for the most part simple Boodhist peasants – have a traditional regard for the mountain. They do not “revere” it, and they do not value it because it is ecologically intact, nor indeed because it might be a source of income. No, they regard it as sacred. What exactly does this mean? In general, modern people have no idea.
This is not the place to elaborate upon this question, but let us merely say that to the traditional mind the sacred represents some aspect of a transcendent order of Reality (Yes, Reality, with an upper-case R.) It is the transcendent – that which transcends the earthly – that is the important factor. To find a mountain “inspiring” or similar, as modern people do, does not involve anything transcendent whatsoever. It is a profane and shallow emotion. Similarly, “eco-spirituality” is an entirely profane affair as well. For a mountain to be sacred in the traditional sense it must be a symbol, an object that points to, or embodies, a higher (and deeper) reality. When modern people look upon a mountain – even one so immense as Kangchenjunga – they never leave the confines of their limited worldview. When they cry “Oh! It’s magnificent!” or “Oh! How beautiful!” or “Just look at that, Bill! Isn’t it amazing?” they never extend themselves beyond merely sentimental responses. Such responses are of a totally different order to the way in which traditional people regard a mountain.
One important difference is this: the traditional idea of sacred involves fear. The sacred is to be feared. If there is one thing that modern man – even where he might count himself “religious” – is lacking, it is the fear of God. The traditional response to a mountain as immense and imposing as Kangchenjunga is awe. Awe – true awe – is a religious emotion. Mr. Bauer and his mountaineers are not in awe of Kangchenjunga. If they were they would never entertain the idea of subduing such a mountain. They might be impressed or daunted by the scale of the mountain, but they conspicuously lack any deep and appropriate sense of awe. The religious people of Sikkim fear and dread both the mountain and, even more, its gods. That is the difference.
One important difference is this: the traditional idea of sacred involves fear. The sacred is to be feared. If there is one thing that modern man – even where he might count himself “religious” – is lacking, it is the fear of God. The traditional response to a mountain as immense and imposing as Kangchenjunga is awe. Awe – true awe – is a religious emotion. Mr. Bauer and his mountaineers are not in awe of Kangchenjunga. If they were they would never entertain the idea of subduing such a mountain. They might be impressed or daunted by the scale of the mountain, but they conspicuously lack any deep and appropriate sense of awe. The religious people of Sikkim fear and dread both the mountain and, even more, its gods. That is the difference.
The present writer touched upon this idea in another earlier post when he made the point that traditional people fear wilderness. They fear what modern people call “nature”. Again, the category of ‘eco-spirituality’ which elevates ‘eco-systems’ and ‘biodiversity’ and the like to pseudo-deities, fails to encompass this entirely. It is not the same thing at all. Whether it is a jungle or a mangrove swamp or a desert or a mountain, the modern mentality does not view wilderness (that which is by definition beyond the human realm) with the same sense of awe (i.e. a sacred fear) that even the most ecologically spiritual modern person does. There is no “sacred fear” in “eco-spirituality” and there is no hint of it in the way Mr. Bauer claims Austrians “revere” mountains either.
This is not to say, nevertheless, that there is not or cannot be an integral spiritual dimension to mountaineering. For this, see the work of Baron Julius Evola. There is a very fine collection of Baron Evola's writings entitled Meditations on the Peaks & Mountain Climbing as a Metaphor for the Spiritual Quest which collection is probably the preeminent text on the issue. Baron Evola is not blind to the promethean and thuggish self-engrandizement that can characterise the conquerors of mountains, but he insists - rightly - that mountain climbing need not be insensitive to or incompatible with the sacred aspect of mountains.
Although the ancients did not practice mountain climbing... they nonetheless had a very vivid sense of the sacredness and symbolism of mountains. They also thought - and this is rather telling - that climbing mountains and living therein was the prerogative of heroes and initiates, in other words beings who were believed to have gone beyond the limits of the common and mediocre life of the plains.
Although the ancients did not practice mountain climbing... they nonetheless had a very vivid sense of the sacredness and symbolism of mountains. They also thought - and this is rather telling - that climbing mountains and living therein was the prerogative of heroes and initiates, in other words beings who were believed to have gone beyond the limits of the common and mediocre life of the plains.
- Baron Evola
* * *
What, specifically, makes Kanchenjunga sacred? How, in what way, is its sacredness understood among the people of the holy land of Sikkim? The name Kangchenjunga means, it is said, “the five treasures of snow”. One common explanation of this - preferred in tourist pamphlets - is that it refers to the five valleys that shape the sides of the peak. This is almost certainly the profane explanation of geographers. Such an explanation really only takes account of the idea of "five snows" but makes nothing of the designation "treasures". A more likely and more traditional explanation - as offered by local people - is that it refers to the idea that five treasures are concealed there, concealed, that is, by the snow, in which case the important part of the name is precisely "treasures" and the number five has nothing to do with any supposed five-sided topography.
These treasures are said to be gold, salt, scriptures and an invincible armour (or alternatively grain, turquoise, medicine etc.since there are differing accounts of these five things). It is said that these will be revealed to the pious at the close of days or as required as the cycles of time decline. This idea is related, that is to say, to the important concept in Boodhism (of the Mayahana type and the Nyingma sect in particular) of terma, namely the notion that certain scriptures, relics and precious objects were hidden by enlightened beings of former times for the benefit of those of us unfortunate enough to live in more opaque and less propitious times. At selected times, as required, these secrets will be revealed. Nyingma Boodhism, readers must appreciate, is a tradition of on-going and continuous, which is to say unfolding, revelation. Certain terma have been hidden in secret places. They are and will be "found" when needed. Kanchenjunga is one such stash of secret treasures. But they are, for now, beyond the reach of mortal men.
Thus, other than being an abode of the gods in the general sense that mountains always are – especially since they seem to float in the air as celestial (transcendent) realms detached from the earth – this, we can assume, is what makes Kangchenjunga especially sacred to the Sikkimese. It is a place of hidden, sacred treasures. It is a trove of the most sacred terma. This is the pertinent aspect of its transcendent quality. This is to what its name refers. These are treasures hidden beyond the profane realm. And this is why its snows must remain untrod.
Yours,
Harper McAlpine Black
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