Goddess on the Frontier: Religion, Ethnicity, and Gender in Southwest China 9781503600454

Citation preview

GODDESS ON THE FRONTIER

GODDESS ON THE FRONTIER Religion, Ethnicity, and Gender in Southwest China

M E G A N B RYS O N

STA N FOR D U N I V ER SIT Y PR E SS STA N FOR D, CA LIFOR N I A

Stanford University Press Stanford, California © 2017 by the Board of Trustees of the Leland Stanford Junior University. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system without the prior written permission of Stanford University Press. Printed in the United States of America on acid-free, archival-quality paper Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Names: Bryson, Megan, author. Title: Goddess on the frontier : religion, ethnicity, and gender in southwest China / Megan Bryson. Description: Stanford, California : Stanford University Press, 2016. | Includes bibliographical references and index. Identifiers: LCCN 2016012719| ISBN 9780804799546 (cloth : alk. paper) | ISBN 9781503600454 (ebook) Subjects: LCSH: Baijie (Buddhist deity)—Cult—History. | Buddhist goddesses—China—Dali Baizu Zizhizhou—History. | Buddhism—China—Dali Baizu Zizhizhou—History. | Ethnicity—Religious aspects—Buddhism. | Bai (Chinese people)—Religion. | Dali Baizu Zizhizhou (China)—Religion. Classification: LCC BQ4890.B352 B78 2016 | DDC 299.5/112114—dc23 LC record available at https://lccn.loc.gov/2016012719 Typeset by Bruce Lundquist in 10/14 Minion Pro

For my parents, Randy Bryson and Julie Culbertson.

CONTENTS



List of Illustrations

ix

Acknowledgments

xi



Introduction: Religion, Ethnicity, and Gender in Dali

1

1 Baijie’s Background: Religion and Representation in the Nanzhao and Dali Kingdoms

21



2 Holy Consort White Sister: Baijie Shengfei and Dali Buddhism

51



3 Little White Sister: Baijie Amei, Dragons, and Kingship in Ming Dali

83





4 Lady of Cypress Chastity: Baijie Furen in the Ming and Qing

107



5 Baijie the Benzhu: Village Religion in Contemporary Dali

137



Conclusion: Ethnicity and Gender in the Cult of the Goddess Baijie

169



List of Chinese Characters

175



List of Abbreviations

183

Notes

185

References

217

Index

235

I L LUST R AT IONS

Map I.1.

Current PRC

3

Map I.2.

Modern Yunnan Province

4

Map 1.1.

Nanzhao kingdom

25

Map 1.2.

Dali kingdom

39

Map 1.3.

Dali kingdom Buddhist sites

42

Map 5.1.

Dali Bai Autonomous Prefecture

156

Figure 1.1. Chan lineage, Fanxiang juan

49

Figure 2.1. Mahākāla and Fude Longnü, Fanxiang juan

56

Figure 2.2. Yakṣa God of Great Joy and Kāla of the Golden Bowl, Fanxiang juan

80

Figure 3.1. Baijie Amei, Linghui si

99

Figure 4.1. Baijie Furen and Husband, City of Virtue’s Source

125

Figure 5.1. Baijie statue, Deer Town

159

AC K NOW L E D GM E N T S

As this project has taken shape over the past decade, many individuals and institutions have offered support of various kinds throughout its different stages. During the year I spent in Dali in 2007–2008, the staff of the Dali xueyuan Ethnic Culture Research Center helped me plan and carry out fieldwork as well as textual studies. I am grateful to Cun Yunji, Yang Hongbin, Wang Wei, Na Zhangyuan, and Zhang Xilu for their hospitality and guidance, especially in the field. Yang Xiongduan in particular was a dear friend and research partner whose family welcomed me with open arms and delicious food. Without her help, conducting this research would have been far less fruitful and interesting. I would also like to thank Zhao Yinsong, Tian Huaiqing, and Li Gong at the Bai Culture Research Center for being so generous with their time and resources. I owe a big debt of gratitude to Hou Chong for having paved the way for this project with his excellent work on Buddhism in Dali. Hou Chong has also shown unfailing kindness and generosity in assisting with difficult manuscripts and sharing sources. I consider myself extremely fortunate to have benefited from his wisdom and compassion. After returning to Stanford following my time in Dali, I continued to develop this project in conversation with other students and professors. I’d like to thank the wonderful members of my cohort who read and commented on earlier versions of this project, especially Ben Brose, Se-Woong Koo, and Z ­ haohua Yang. Dominic Steavu, Brenda Falk, Chiew-hui Ho, and Jason Protass were also excellent conversation partners during this period. Of course, I am deeply grateful to Carl Bielefeldt and Bernard Faure for their guidance, as well as for giving me the freedom to pursue this project. Bernard’s work on deities has been an inspiration for my own work, and I am particularly thankful to him for steering me in this direction. At the end of my time at Stanford, I had the opportunity to work with other mentors whose feedback helped to improve this project. Comments from Wendi Adamek, Paul Harrison, and Matt Sommer

xii AC K N OW L E D G M E N T S

helped tremendously as I revised the book. John McRae deserves special mention for providing insightful comments on early chapters and for taking time to discuss Buddhism in Dali with me; I wish he were here to see the book in print. At the University of Tennessee my colleagues in the Department of Religious Studies have provided consistent support and helpful feedback as I turned the project into a book manuscript. I’d like to thank Rosalind H ­ ackett, Rachelle Scott, Gilya Schmidt, Erin Darby, Mark Hulsether, Tina Shepardson, and Kelly Baker. Tina and Kelly in particular provided invaluable camaraderie and empathy during the long revision process. Colleagues in the faculty research seminar on Centers and Peripheries in East Asia also offered constructive comments on parts of this book, so many thanks are due to Noriko Horiguchi, Charles Sanft, Suzanne Wright, and Shellen Wu. I am also grateful to my wonderful students at the University of Tennessee, whose insightful comments and questions have helped me think about how to translate my research for a broader audience. Special thanks are due to Jenny Gavacs, Anne Fuzellier Jain, and everyone else I’ve had the pleasure to work with at Stanford University Press. Their feedback and guidance have made this a truly enjoyable process. Finally, and most important, are the people who have supported me throughout this revision process and in life in general. My parents, Randy Bryson and Julie Culbertson, have always been there for me as I moved to China and back and then around the United States as part of the itinerant academic lifestyle. I have been truly fortunate to have such a supportive family, including my brother Will, who has been a great sounding board as we each embarked on our careers. I’d like to end by thanking Dan Magilow for reading and commenting on parts of this book and for the encouragement, love, and support that helped me keep going with this project through difficult times.

GODDESS ON THE FRONTIER



INTRODUCTION Religion, Ethnicity, and Gender in Dali

AU G U S T 14 , 2 0 0 9 , marked the beginning of the Torch Festival, and on that day a huge crowd gathered on the hilltop of the City of Virtue’s Source to celebrate the grand opening of the new temple to Baijie Shengfei (Holy Consort of White Purity).1 A red banner hanging across the temple doors read, “Ceremony Celebrating Eryuan County’s Renovation of the Holy Consort of White Purity Temple.” To the west of the temple, celebrants circumambulated a giant torch that would be ignited at sundown. Festooned with colorful streamers, flags, and pom-poms, the torch bore its own messages of celebration: red banners exhorted the crowd to “joyfully observe the ethnic Torch Festival” and proclaimed that the torch was “erected by the Eryuan County People’s Government.” Dance troupes wearing brightly colored costumes performed routines while waiting for the official ceremony to begin. Everyone on the hilltop that day would have recognized Baijie as an eighthcentury widow martyr who committed suicide rather than marry the man who killed her husband. According to Baijie’s legend, her husband ruled a small kingdom that had its capital in the City of Virtue’s Source. His fiery death at the hands of a rival ruler was the origin story for the Torch Festival. The celebrants interpreted Baijie’s title “Holy Consort” as a reference to her relationship with her husband. However, it originally referred to Baijie’s relationship to someone else: the wrathful god Mahākāla. In the earliest writings on Baijie Shengfei, from the twelfth century, she was not a widow martyr at all but a Buddhist dragon maiden. This book tells her story.

2

R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I

The Goddesses Called Baijie

Baijie Shengfei first appeared in Buddhist ritual texts and art of the Dali kingdom (937–1253) as the consort of Mahākāla, a form of the Indian god Śiva “converted” to protect the Buddhist teachings. By the fifteenth century, the name Baijie also referred to the mother of Duan Siping, founder of the Dali kingdom. According to her legend, she conceived the future ruler when a dragon disguised as a piece of wood floated into her foot while she bathed. This Baijie was enshrined in temples near the ancestral home of the Dali kingdom’s founder. The eighth-century widow martyr only came to be called Baijie during the Qing dynasty (1644–1911). She, too, was enshrined in temples and worshipped as a goddess and moral exemplar. Today the Baijie revered as a tutelary village deity (known as benzhu in Dali) contains elements of all three of these forms. The name Baijie was initially written differently for the different figures that bore it: the Buddhist Baijie Shengfei means “Holy Consort White Sister”; Duan Siping’s mother was Baijie Amei, “Little White Sister”; and the widow martyr was known as Baijie Furen, “Lady Cypress Chastity.” As the three figures became intertwined, their names were also combined, and so today one commonly finds the name of the Buddhist Baijie attached to a figure identified as the widow martyr by villagers. I refer to these three figures collectively as Baijie because of the historical continuities between them and their eventual commingling. Despite the differences in names and forms, two elements of Baijie’s identity remain consistent: she always appears as a feminine figure, and she only appears in the Dali region of southwest China’s Yunnan Province. Dali is a frontier zone where different cultures meet. Though now part of the People’s Republic of China, Dali has long bordered Southeast Asia, India, and Tibetan regions. From the seventh to thirteenth centuries it was the capital of two independent kingdoms, Nanzhao (649–903) and Dali, and after the Mongol conquest of 1253 it was claimed by the Yuan, Ming, and Qing dynasties centered in Beijing. Dali offers a case study of how people craft local identities out of multiple possibilities and how these local identities transform over time. Baijie’s transformations from the twelfth century to the present have echoed and shaped Dali’s local identity and how it has been gendered. As Dali changed from an independent political center to a peripheral region in a vast empire, Baijie similarly changed from a dragon maiden and consort of Mahākāla called Baijie Shengfei to a chaste widow martyr known as Baijie Furen. The dynamic aspects of Baijie’s identity mirrored the dynamism of local identity. Baijie, like her worshippers, could not be reduced to either her local or her gendered iden-



R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I 

3

tity: like them, her identity changed in connection with the broader context; and like them, her local identity did not emerge in a vacuum—it developed through encounters between local and translocal forces. Translocal forces entered Dali from multiple directions, but Dali elites did not draw equally from each source.2 Baijie’s transformations primarily show how Dali elites represented gendered local identity in relation to Chinese culture and the Chinese state, which even before the Mongol conquest of 1253 constituted the main translocal presence in the region. However, Dali’s location in a frontier zone (also known as Zomia) meant that its elites could draw on a broad repertoire of gendered symbols when positioning themselves in relation to China. Baijie survived because she allowed Dali elites to invoke local identity while maintaining an image of feminine propriety that signified civilization in the semiotic system of Chineseness.

RUSSIA

KAZAKHSTAN

Heilongjiang

MONGOLIA

Jilin

KYRGYZSTAN

Inner Mongolia Xinjiang

Liaoning

Beijing Gansu

Ningxia Hebei Shanxi

N. KOREA Tianjin

S. KOREA

Shandong

Qinghai

Sichuan

BHUTAN

Anhui

Hubei

Chongqing

Jiangxi Hunan

INDIA

BANGLADESH

LAOS

TAIWAN

Guangdong

BURMA

THAILAND

Current PRC

Guangxi

Shanghai Zhejiang

Fujian

Guizhou Yunnan

MAP I.1. 

su

PA L

Henan

Shaanxi

ng

NE

Jia

Tibet (Xizang)

PHILIPPINES Hainan

VIETNAM

4

R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I

Tibet Sichuan Diqing Zhaotong

BURMA

Lijiang

Nujiang

Guizhou Qujing

Dali Chuxiong

Kunming

Baoshan Dehong

Guangxi

Yuxi Lincang

Wenshan Honghe

Simao Legend

COUNTRY Province Prefecture City

LAOS

Water

MAP I.2. 

VIETNAM

Xishuangbanna

Capital

Modern Yunnan Province

Deities and Society

Doing justice to Baijie’s identities requires examining closely the complex connections between divine symbols and social roles. Baijie’s transformations are tied to changes in gendered local identities in Dali, but Baijie does not just mirror her worshippers. Scholars of religion in China have long observed the correlations between human society and the spirit world (especially their ­bureaucratic character), but as Meir Shahar and Robert Weller note, “the Chinese supernatural is neither a mere tool of China’s political system nor a simple reification of its social hierarchy.”3 Deities lack single, fixed identities. They do not have to be either constructive or destructive; they can be (and usually are) both. As polysemic symbols, deities still relate to human society, but not as one-to-one reflections.



R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I 

5

Deities’ complex roles are especially important to recognize with respect to gender. Gender is a common focus in studies of goddesses, and for good reason: when sources by and about women are scarce, goddesses can provide an entry point for discussions of femininity and gendered symbolism. As Caroline Walker Bynum observes, divine symbols emerge from the experiences of gendered subjects and are therefore themselves gendered in some way, even if not explicitly.4 However, Bynum also notes that the connection between gender and religious symbols is not straightforward: “Gender-related symbols, in their full complexity, may refer to gender in ways that affirm or reverse it, support or question it; or they may, in their basic meaning, have little at all to do with male and female roles.”5 Even though Baijie’s various identities correspond to some of women’s social roles—consort, mother, and widow—this does not mean that she merely reflects or reinforces those roles in Dali society. Baijie has been a dynamic symbol that people throughout Dali’s history have encountered and used in different ways. GENDERED DEITIES

Goddesses are more than mirror images of women’s social roles, and they do more than either oppress or liberate women. Earlier studies of goddesses, ­fueled by Mary Daly’s criticisms of monotheistic religions centered around masculine deities, presented goddesses as empowering symbols that could establish gender equality.6 However, powerful female deities do not automatically give women economic, political, or social power. They can in fact reinforce patriarchal structures by embodying virtues tied to women’s subordination or by demarcating an unbridgeable gap between goddesses and women. Steven Sangren argues that the Chinese goddesses Guanyin, Birthless Eternal Mother (Wusheng laomu), and the Queen Mother of the West (Xiwangmu) embody an idealized version of femininity that is both maternal and chaste, something that cannot be achieved by women.7 Brigitte Baptandier similarly concludes in her study of the Chinese goddess Lady by the Water (Linshui furen) that women only enjoy equality with men in the symbolic imaginary, that is, as goddesses. While the Lady by the Water defies social convention by postponing marriage to pursue Daoist training, the women who worship her seek fertility to fulfill their wifely obligations.8 Understanding how goddesses relate to women’s social roles requires going beyond the binary of oppression and liberation. Instead, we must examine how gendered symbols operate in context, and how people encounter and manipu-

6

R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I

late these symbols in different ways. In Dali, Baijie’s widow martyr role signifies different gendered values in the Ming and Qing dynasties than in the PRC. Even during the Ming and Qing dynasties, outside officials presented this form of Baijie as proof that the “barbarians” of Dali could be civilized, while local intellectuals used her to claim that their ancestors had long embraced the feminine virtues that represented civilization. In the PRC she may symbolize women’s oppression under feudalism or inspire women with her refinement and virtue. In the same vein, there is no single women’s experience of goddesses. Feminist theorists have argued for the need to address diversity in the category “woman” by considering gender alongside other forms of identity such as class, age, and ethnicity. Modern Western conceptions of gender, sex, sexuality, and women do not necessarily fit premodern periods and different cultures.9 Tani Barlow, for instance, challenges the idea that the category “woman” even existed in premodern China, noting that one’s role within the family was a more important identity than the idea of a shared womanhood uniting daughters, mothers-in-law, and maids.10 The use of the male-female (nannü) binary in premodern Dali justifies collectively labeling Baijie’s different roles as feminine, but it would be a mistake to elide the distinctions between consort, mother, and widow. Baijie’s female worshippers (as observed in contemporary Dali) likewise do not belong to an undifferentiated mass of women but align with other forms of identification, such as age, village, or religiosity. Nor does gender only apply when considering the relationship between goddesses and women: masculine deities are gendered, and men worship goddesses, too. James L. Watson’s study of Mazu worship in Southeast China has shown that women speak of Mazu as a personal deity, while men (at least those from powerful lineages) speak of her as a “symbol of territorial hegemony.”11 The category “man,” like “woman,” is not monolithic, and premodern sources about Baijie come from male elites with access to education and other resources, whether the rulers and court officials of the Dali kingdom or degreeholders of the Ming and Qing. These sources may not represent understandings or uses of gendered symbols in other parts of the Dali population, and they do not explain women’s social status in Dali. Nonetheless, the male elites whose work has survived did not create these gendered symbols anew; they encountered the symbols as part of a larger cultural framework that female elites (and other segments of the population) might have shared. Similarly, their authorial intentions do not dictate how people interpreted their texts. However,



R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I 

7

in the absence of additional sources on how other segments of the Dali population would have encountered and interpreted these depictions of Baijie, I limit my conclusions to the male elites that produced the materials and claimed to represent the kingdom, clan, or ethnic group. LOCAL DEITIES

Baijie does not merely reflect her worshippers’ gendered worlds but is herself part of those worlds. Her devotees include diverse populations of men and women of different ages, time periods, education levels, and village affiliations who encounter and invoke Baijie in different ways. In addition to being a goddess, Baijie is also a local figure that has never been worshipped outside of Dali. Locality is a discourse of power that creates distinctions between what is rooted in a particular place and what is not, namely, the universal, unlocalizing, or utopian.12 But while the local-universal binary has heuristic value, it inevitably masks more complex interactions between localizing and unlocalizing forces.13 Great goddesses develop local or regional identities, or become identified with local or regional deities, just as local goddesses are not cut off from outside influences. For example, Baijie’s cult may be more geographically restricted than Guanyin’s, but Guanyin has different local identities and Baijie’s different forms incorporate translocal elements. In Dali, the dominant unlocalizing or universalizing discourses have been Buddhism and Chineseness, both of which manifest in Baijie’s different forms, starting with her earliest appearance as a Buddhist dragon maiden. Buddhist narrative encounters with localizing forces from India through East Asia often involve monks converting or controlling chthonic serpent deities. As Richard Cohen and Bernard Faure observe, Buddhists could only claim universality by emplacing themselves locally, thereby intertwining localizing and un­localizing forces.14 Faure further draws attention to the gendered dimension of these encounters, in which the Buddhist monks signify masculine universality while the serpents signify feminine locality.15 This gendered encounter occurs in Dali through Baijie’s first role as a Buddhist dragon maiden, which binds the masculine, translocal god Mahākāla to the feminine, local goddess Baijie and mutually reinforces the local power of Buddhism and the universal power of local tradition. Chineseness, the other universalizing discourse in Dali, exists in tension with two kinds of centrifugal forces, those of localization and of “barbarism.” Localization threatens the notion of a cohesive Chinese culture; scholars of

8

R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I

religion have long discussed the relationship between universalizing and ­localizing forces, sometimes framing them as official versus popular or classical versus vernacular. Maurice Freedman and Arthur Wolf famously debated this issue, with Freedman arguing for a common Chinese religion and Wolf positing the irreducibility of local traditions.16 More recently, Prasenjit Duara’s notion of superscription, Paul Katz’s concept of reverberation, and Kenneth Dean’s syncretic field have offered ways to theorize how these two forces interrelate rather than arguing that one force simply dominates the other.17 Narratives, records, and practices associated with deities are ways in which people play out the relationship between universalizing forces of Chineseness and the localizing forces that challenge attempts at standardization. Local deities can disrupt universalizing claims of Chineseness by not fitting ideals of uniformity or standardization. State officials selectively proscribed cults devoted to such disruptive figures, including the Five Emperors in Southeast China and fox spirits in the North.18 Other local deities, such as Mazu and Wenchang, gained official approval when their worship was seen as supporting the state.19 Attempts to standardize deities could meet resistance from their devotees, who in some cases strategically relabeled or recast gods to conform to official prescriptions. Representatives of the state did not form a monolithic group, either, but might decide to allow or suppress local cults depending on local conditions, top-down pressure, or individual proclivities. Baijie’s roles as Duan Siping’s mother and as widow martyr were modes through which people in Dali—especially local elites and outside officials—promoted localizing or universalizing discourses. Officials presented Baijie as a moral exemplar whose veneration fit into universalizing Ming and Qing civilizing projects, but gazetteers show that people worshipped her as an efficacious goddess rooted in the region’s history. These two poles of moral sagacity and spiritual efficacy fit Dean’s concept of the syncretic field, a multidimensional space created by the tension between two poles, which Dean defines as the universalizing, hierarchical, Confucian sheng sagehood at one end and the territorial, localized ling of spiritual efficacy at the other. Sheng forces try to incorporate ling forces within the hierarchy, but tension remains between these extremes.20 A single deity’s cult will look different depending on one’s position within the syncretic field. Baijie can be simultaneously a paragon of wifely devotion and a goddess who ensures timely rainfall. The syncretic field is a three-dimensional space created by intersecting planes. In Baijie’s case, the plane demarcated by universalizing and localiz-



R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I 

9

ing forces intersects with the gendered plane demarcated by masculinity and femininity. Patterns govern how these two planes intersect: Chineseness, like Buddhism, contrasts its universalizing masculinity with localizing femininity. These discourses homologize masculine universality with texts, institutions, and hierarchies while homologizing feminine locality with oral traditions and looser sociopolitical organization. However, these homologies are part of the discourses, and it is important to attend to ways in which forms of social difference are neither analogous nor structurally similar.21 Even though Baijie remains a feminine figure in her different roles, her gendered symbolism can align with masculine universalizing discourses of Buddhist rulership, Confucian virtue, or (in the modern period) ethnicity. Alternatively, she can signify the feminine localizing forces characterized, in the manner of so-called little traditions, by their lack of names. FRONTIER DEITIES

Dali’s position on the Chinese frontier means that its deities not only engage the tension between centripetal Chineseness and centrifugal locality, they also engage tensions between the universalizing discourses of Chineseness and barbarism. Like the binary of Chineseness and locality, the relationship between Chineseness and barbarism is gendered, but in ways that reflect the different dynamics linking these concepts. Whereas localizing discourses challenge the universality of Chineseness, the notion of barbarism reinforces Chineseness as a discrete and cohesive category by constituting the other against which it defines itself. In fact, barbarism is only the apparent opposite of Chineseness that conceals the latter’s true opposite, namely, localizing forces. As forms of discourse, concepts of Chineseness and barbarism changed throughout history, covered broad semantic fields, and could be wielded strategically to support different positions. Chineseness, consistently denoted by hua, xia, or a compound thereof, arose during the Zhou dynasty as a label for the people and civilization of the Yellow River plain.22 Different groups received specific labels: the di in the north, yi in the east, man in the south, and rong in the west. Some of these became metonyms for uncultured “barbarians” in general.23 Criteria for being “Chinese” were not fixed: for some, Chineseness depended on lineage, or what in modern discourse might be called race or ethnicity; for others, Chineseness could be acquired through mastery of a particular cultural repertoire, so that barbarians could become Chinese. These criteria were usually combined, but people could strategically foreground one or the other.

10

R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I

The goals of the Chinese state in standardizing temples and deities in both Chinese and barbarian regions were the same: to display state power and suppress potential resistance. However, the rhetoric differed, as Chinese expansion into so-called barbarian territories—including Dali, following the Ming conquest—involved what Stevan Harrell has called “civilizing projects” aimed at bringing Chinese culture to those regions.24 C. Patterson Giersch notes that when the Qing empire expanded into southern Yunnan, the court promoted temples to city gods, the literary god Wenchang, and the martial god Guandi.25 Settlers from Chinese regions also established native place associations and temples to their local deities, who then took on more universalizing roles as Chinese gods. Promoting “Chinese” gods and their temples did not entail eradicating local cults but initiated a divine takeover of the region to complement the military and political encroachments. As with state policies toward local deities, official attitudes toward barbarian deities and their cults varied considerably depending on the place, the dominant political strategy of the day, and the position of the official in question. State officials might allow such cults to continue as part of a strategy of accommodation, assimilate these cults to those of Chinese deities, or suppress these cults as a show of power. For example, Qing officials in western Hunan developed new explanations of the Heavenly Kings, originally deities worshipped by the Miao people, that turned the gods into historical Han figures.26 Representatives of the Ming and Qing courts attempted to standardize Baijie’s legends and her role as widow martyr to conform to Chinese models. Officials from outside Dali expressed astonishment that the widow martyr Baijie’s example could even survive in the land of “barbarian mists and miasmic rain” (manyan zhangyu). Discourses of Chineseness and barbarism (like those of locality and universality) were not fixed but could be employed strategically. Most people were probably not concerned with whether deities were “Chinese” or “barbarian” but whether they were efficacious. Han settlers who started to worship the Miao Heavenly Kings in western Hunan likely would not have articulated their practices in terms of Chineseness or barbarism, just as people indigenous to Dali do not seem to have explicitly distinguished between Chinese and Bai deities. The selective use of these kinds of discourses continues to the present, when ethnic terminology is far more common among the educated, urban, and male than among the less educated, rural, and female. The nineteenth century saw the rise of many new discourses in China, including those that frame this book, namely, gender, ethnicity, and religion.



R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I 

11

­Ethnicity (minzu) superficially replaced the civilization-barbarism binary, which became a binary between the Han and minority nationalities. This new dyad reframed the civilized-barbarian divide in the model of sociohistorical evolution, in which the Han were seen as more advanced than ethnic ­minorities. Religion (zongjiao) found its opposites in superstition and science, which according to Prasenjit Duara constituted a more black-and-white binary than the previously dominant spectrum that ranged from correct (zheng) to perverse (xie) practices.27 When combined, ethnicity and religion create reified categories of “ethnic religion” that assume the existence of distinctive ethnic practices, beliefs, and deities. In modern Dali, local scholars and government officials present Baijie as a goddess of the Bai ethnicity even though most of her worshippers do not use ethnic language to describe her. Frontier deities such as Baijie illustrate how Chinese-barbarian and Hanminority binaries are gendered. Those claiming the Chinese position have long used perceptions of female sexuality to mark a given population’s level of civilization. Barbarian women tend to be seen as sexually uninhibited and promiscuous, as in the Tang dynasty claim that when Nanzhao women married, their secret lovers came to see the women off.28 Xiaofei Kang’s study of fox spirits highlights the intersections of gender and Chineseness in showing how female foxes were associated with both dangerous sexuality and barbarism.29 Within this semiotic system Baijie’s role as a widow martyr who refuses to remarry after her husband’s death signifies that the people of Dali are civilized, because women’s sexual propriety is a marker of civilization. In modern China the correlation between sexuality and barbarism continues, though within the discourses of gender and ethnicity. Minority women are also still perceived as sexually uninhibited, especially in the Southwest, as seen in depictions of promiscuity among Mosuo women and in the Yunnan school of painting that specializes in nude images of minority women.30 People in modern Dali represent Baijie in ways that engage the semiotics of both gender and Bai ethnicity but in different ways, depending on their own positions in Dali society. Baijie’s symbolism encompasses the complexity of deities’ relationships to human society. She can illuminate the oft-studied connection between goddesses and women and show as well that gender is only one dimension of identification, which intersects with others in dynamic ways. Baijie is a local deity that engages the universalizing discourses of Buddhism and Chineseness and the binaries of Chinese-barbarian and Han-minority. Dali, the frontier

12

R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I

locality where she appears, is itself a dynamic place where such divisions have been constructed and challenged. Understanding Baijie’s significance requires locating Dali as a frontier region that has become part of China.

Locating Dali

Frontier zones are places where different groups encounter each other and different kinds of boundaries—political, cultural, economic—overlap.31 Located next to Chinese, Tibetan, Indian, and Southeast Asian regions, Dali is precisely such a zone. However, Dali’s proximity to these different areas does not mean that its people adopted ideas, technologies, and objects from its neighbors equally, nor that its elites maintained the same political ties with each neighboring regime. The cultural and political choices that people in Dali have made over the centuries shed light on networks and interactions in areas far from the better-known centers of “great civilizations.” Baijie’s transformations offer a lens for viewing these networks and interactions as Dali’s position changed from an independent political entity to the periphery of empires centered in the East to the border region of a nation-state. Locating Dali involves placing it within both the Zomia region and the Chinese zone into which it was eventually incorporated. DA L I I N Z OM IA

Dali lies within the mountainous Zomia region identified by Willem van Schendel and further theorized by James C. Scott. Zomia straddles the national borders of India, Burma, China, Vietnam, Cambodia, Laos, and Thailand.32 The term, derived from zomi (“highlander” in several Tibeto-Burman languages), offers a new approach to regional divisions that does not conform to nationstate boundaries or postwar area studies disciplines. Indeed, Zomia’s statelessness is a defining characteristic: governmental power cannot remain strong in places where transportation is so inconvenient and taxation so inefficient. Scott challenges the standard narrative that paints Zomia and similarly “inhospitable” areas as refuges for those who could not compete in the civilized realm. Instead, he argues that people actively moved to Zomia to avoid state control, in some cases willingly giving up markers of civilization such as literacy and fixed agriculture. Yunnan, with its diverse population, mountainous terrain, and distance from the political centers of China, Tibet, India, Burma, and Vietnam, is located within Zomia. Both van Schendel and Scott describe the Nanzhao king-



R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I 

13

dom as an example of state formation within Zomia, and the Dali region falls well inside the boundary between Zomia and the direct reach of Chinese states. Dali also fits conceptually into van Schendel’s notion of Zomia as a region that suffers academic neglect because it lies outside traditional area studies disciplines that shape knowledge production.33 Zomia offers a geographical metaphor that has the benefit of not making Dali merely an appendage of one of its central neighbors. At the same time, simply locating Dali in Zomia does not explain Dali’s changes throughout the centuries. Dali displays gradations within Zomia: at an elevation of 6,585 feet it is a high-altitude region, but it also centers around the Er Lake (Erhai) plain. Elites in Dali, unlike those in other parts of Yunnan, have been using Sinitic script since at least the Nanzhao kingdom, and Ming rulers imposed direct central rule in Dali rather than continuing the “native chieftain” (tusi) system they used elsewhere in the southwest. Dali has been more accessible to Chinese states than other parts of Zomia, even those farther east. The work of Richard von Glahn and John Herman on the Chinese colonization of Sichuan and Guizhou, respectively, shows how proximity alone does not determine a state’s ability to impose direct central rule.34 Despite closer ties between Dali elites and Chinese culture, Dali still falls into the Zomia realm. In the first place, it served as a site of refuge and rebellion for people from Chinese territory, including Buddhists fleeing the Huichang persecution of 845, the Ming Yongli emperor (r. 1646–1662) in the wake of the Qing conquest, and Du Wenxiu’s Islamic sultanate that resulted from the Panthay Rebellion in the 1850s.35 Moreover, it has been a zone of interaction and exchange between different populations, including representatives of large neighboring states and smaller groups of the surrounding mountains. And finally, Dali’s population has rarely been classified as Chinese or Han and has in fact become a bone of contention in matters of ethnicity and language. H. R. Davies wrote in 1908, “Min-chia is undoubtedly the most puzzling language of Yün-nan to classify” because it contains elements of all four language families in the region.36 “Min-chia” (Minjia, “civilian household”) became a term for Dali’s indigenous population following the Ming conquest, when the households of Ming soldiers who remained in the region were known as junjia, “military households.” From the Ming dynasty through the Republican period, “Minjia” was used along with the ethnonym “Bai,” which first appears in a record from the Yuan dynasty. In the ethnic classification project of the 1950s, “Bai” became

14

R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I

the official name of the minority nationality centered in Dali because it was seen as a more indigenous term. Some modern scholars apply the Bai ethnic label to Dali’s population going back to the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms, but sources from Nanzhao and Dali do not use such ethnic autonyms. The only ­labels for Dali’s population at this time come from Chinese sources, which consistently refer to people from Dali as man barbarians. Some modern scholars also treat these Chinese labels as autonyms for Dali’s population despite their clear bias. Another problematic view of ethnicity in Dali is the misconception that the Nanzhao rulers were Thai, which persists despite having been convincingly refuted in the 1960s.37 Dali’s perceived eclecticism based on its location has meant that the Bai can be whoever a scholar wants them to be, whether Thai, Tibetan, or Chinese. Dali is a litmus test of sorts that reveals more about scholars’ preconceptions than about the region’s inhabitants themselves. For example, two students of ­Malinowski, Frances L. K. Hsu and C. P. Fitzgerald, both conducted ethnographic research in Dali during the 1930s, but Hsu treated the Bai inhabitants of West Town as prototypically Chinese, while Fitzgerald emphasized their distinctive ethnic practices.38 More recently, David Y. H. Wu has used the Bai to illustrate how the ethnic classification system of the PRC preserved ethnic differences even as cultural differences faded away.39 However, Beth Notar has criticized this on the grounds that Wu ignored important emic claims about cultural difference and conducted his research in eastern Yunnan, far from the Bai population center in Dali.40 These examples support Wang Mingke’s argument that Chinese identity is not demarcated on the basis of objective criteria such as shared language, religion, or dress but is instead expanded or contracted according to shared historical memory.41 For this reason I am less interested in determining whether Dali elite religion came from China, India, Southeast Asia, or Tibet and more in examining how Dali elites represented their religious traditions as part of their overall self-representation. The difficulty of categorizing Dali’s population and language attests to the fluidity of self-representation that characterizes Zomia. Scott describes this fluidity as strategic, as it allows people to invoke different identities depending on the context, such that someone could claim Bai identity in interactions with other Dali locals or Chinese/Han identity when traveling outside of Dali.42 People can use ethnic discourse strategically to galvanize communities or to claim to represent a larger group. As Rogers Brubaker and other scholars of ethnicity have observed, ethnic discourse sometimes masks individual, class, or kinship



R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I 

15

interests.43 The vast majority of premodern sources from Dali come from the elite stratum, which includes the rulers and high officials in the Dali kingdom and degree-holders of the Ming and Qing. Their depictions of Dali identity must be understood in connection to this high status rather than as universal representations. In sum, Baijie is a product of Zomia that embodies its hybridity and fluidity, as well as its tension with the larger state against which it is defined. Zomia’s mountainous statelessness is only meaningful in contrast to the polities in the plains. While transnational populations engage with more than one state, people in remote areas farther from national borders might deal mainly with one only. In the case of Dali’s elites, this larger state was Chinese. DA L I A N D T H E C H I N E SE STAT E

An official Chinese state presence in what is now Yunnan dates back to at least the Han dynasty, when in 109 BCE Emperor Wu founded Yizhou Commandery in modern-day Kunming and then in 69 CE Emperor Ming founded Yongchang Commandery on the modern-day Burma-China border.44 Han power in Yunnan was limited and depended on cooperation with local authorities, who sometimes rebelled against the state. This pattern continued through subsequent Chinese dynasties until the Tang, when as Tibetan power grew the Dali region became more important. In fact, the competition between Tang and Tibet allowed the Nanzhao kingdom to expand and strengthen in the eighth century. Nanzhao clearly engaged with several surrounding states in addition to the Tang. Its rulers established political and military alliances with Tibet, conquered the Pyu kingdom in what is now Burma, and competed with Tang troops over the Annam region in modern-day Vietnam. However, it appears that Nanzhao elites adopted more from the Tang than from these other neighbors, including Sinitic script, political structure, and technologies. Nanzhao used the kidnapped Tang official Zheng Hui as a royal tutor and in 829 raided Chengdu for skilled laborers. The ruling class’s focus on China remained consistent into the Dali kingdom. Though the Dali kingdom had less political and military contact with the Song state than did the Nanzhao kingdom with Tang China, records from the Dali kingdom and the Song dynasty attest to continued interactions in the form of trade. The Mongol conquest of 1253 brought Dali under the direct control of a larger empire for the first time. Though Dali remained far from the capitals in

16

R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I

Beijing and Nanjing and served as a haven for refugees and rebels, the Yuan, Ming, and Qing empires could still impose central rule on the region, if not on other parts of Yunnan. Du Wenxiu’s sultanate managed to control Dali from 1856 to 1872 because the Qing army was occupied with the Taiping Rebellion in the East, but after the Qing army turned its attention to Yunnan, it quickly conquered Du’s forces and massacred Dali’s Muslim population. In the twentieth century Yunnan’s borders became fixed, and Dali became part of the Chinese nation-state. The history of Dali’s elites—the only history available—strongly suggests closer ties between Dali and the Chinese state than between Dali and other regions, such as Tibet, Burma, India, Laos, or Vietnam. Almost all written records from Dali are in Sinitic script, and the others are Sanskrit materials that also circulated in Chinese territory. This does not make Dali “Chinese,” but it shows that Dali elites engaged primarily with Chinese states and their representatives. Historical materials about Baijie’s different forms also come from the elite stratum of Dali society and show how Dali elites developed a gendered local self-representation in relation to Chinese culture and the Chinese state. It is only in the contemporary period that perspectives from women, rural areas, and less educated populations become accessible. To fully explore Baijie’s transformations I adopt a multidisciplinary methodology centered around semiotics and history that also incorporates historical-textual studies, art history, and ethnography.

Methodology and Structure

Semiotics (or semiology), the study of signs, examines how language creates meanings by focusing on the relationship between the signifier (e.g., the term “apple”) and signified (the actual apple). It is the second-order system of symbolism and mythology, whereby the sign “apple” could stand for temptation within a semiotic structure, that helps to make sense of deities such as Baijie. Ferdinand de Saussure’s structuralist approach—particularly his attention to paradigmatic and syntagmatic relations among symbols—offers a way to locate Baijie in relation to other deities, which is particularly important for the Dali kingdom, given the lack of contextual materials.45 Though this book focuses on Baijie, I remain mindful of Bernard Faure’s observation that gods are not distinct persons but “nodes in constantly changing networks.”46 Baijie’s significance stems from her position in divine constellations that look different depending on the viewer’s perspective and the historical context. Making sense of



R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I 

17

Baijie’s transformations requires attention to both the semiotic and historical aspects of her identities, an approach that Christian Wedemeyer adopted in his study of Indian tantric Buddhism.47 For example, the historical context of Ming Dali can explain why Duan Siping’s mother became an important figure but not why she came to be called Baijie; for that, we need to pay attention to how the Buddhist Baijie and Duan Siping’s mother are symbolically linked. Roland Barthes’s mythological analysis of the Paris-Match issue with a black soldier on the cover offers a model for this approach. In Barthes’s reading, on the mythological level this cover signifies “that France is a great Empire, that all her sons, without any colour discrimination, faithfully serve under her flag, and that there is no better answer to the detractors of an alleged colonialism than the zeal shown by this Negro in serving his so-called oppressors.”48 This reading engages a historically contingent semiotic system in a way that can similarly illuminate Baijie’s different forms. This book traces Baijie’s different forms chronologically, starting in the Nanzhao kingdom and ending in the present. The first chapter examines religion and collective representation in the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms to contextualize Baijie’s emergence in the Dali kingdom. The remaining four chapters cover Baijie’s four identities as Buddhist goddess, Duan Siping’s mother, widow martyr, and village deity. I begin each chapter with an overview of the historical changes of the period in question and then look at how Baijie’s new identity arises in relation to these changes. The nature of available sources shapes my methodology in each chapter. Information about the Nanzhao kingdom comes primarily from Tang records and secondarily from a handful of artistic and textual materials from the Nanzhao court. Materials on the Dali kingdom are the inverse of those on the Nanzhao: Buddhist texts and art from the Dali court are relatively abundant, while Song records about Dali are few. Despite this asymmetry, sources on Nanzhao and Dali present a cohesive image of religion in the region during these periods, which provides a solid foundation for considering the specific sources about Baijie in Chapter 2. The second chapter, which covers Baijie’s Buddhist identity in the Dali kingdom, relies on three Dali-era Buddhist ritual texts as well as the masterpiece of Dali art, the Roll of Buddhist Images (Fanxiang juan). Buddhist texts from the Dali kingdom were discovered more recently and have only been made widely available in the past few years.49 While most of these texts are Chinese translations or creations dating to the Tang-Song period, six have been found

18

R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I

only in Dali. Of these six, three mention Baijie Shengfei or her double, Fude Longnü (Dragon Maiden of Good Fortune). The Dharma Assembly Ritual of Unrestricted Light and Food (Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi) and Bodhimaṇḍa Ritual of Unrestricted, Widespread Offerings (Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi) include Baijie Shengfei or Fude Longnü in lists of deities invited to the ritual arena. The Bodhimaṇḍa Ritual of the God Mahākāla (Dahei tianshen daochang yi) devotes a section to Baijie Shengfei, who is identified as the consort of Mahākāla, the ritual text’s central figure. These texts complement existing artistic sources from this period and allow us to reconstruct a more complete image of Buddhism in the Dali kingdom. Baijie Shengfei’s gendered symbolism manifests itself in her relationship with Mahākāla, her identification with other goddesses, and her own textual and visual representations. Though she is paired with Mahākāla in materials with significant esoteric or tantric Buddhist content, their bond is never depicted in overtly sexual terms. Her appearance marries Indian and Southeast Asian nāgī (female serpent) iconography with the long robes of an elegant Song lady, and Dali kingdom texts constellate her with figures such as Śrī Lakṣmī, Hārītī, the nāgī in the Lotus Sūtra who attains buddhahood, and the Chinese moon goddess Chang’e. I read her gendered characteristics as exemplary of how Dali rulers positioned themselves between India and China. They claimed Indian origins for their Buddhist tradition but rejected sexually transgressive esoteric material. Chapter 3 moves into the Yuan and Ming periods and shifts focus to claims of divine lineage. It centers on the legend of the Dali kingdom founder Duan Siping’s birth, which begins with Baijie Amei’s own miraculous birth from a plum. One day, while bathing, she is impregnated by a dragon disguised as a piece of wood and gives birth to the future founder of the kingdom and his twin. I examine why this legend developed in the wake of the Mongol and Ming conquests and how it replicates another legend from Yunnan as well as a legend from Burma. Finally, I consider the deification of Duan Siping’s mother and why she shares a name with the Buddhist Baijie. The legend of Duan Siping’s birth appears in epitaphs, temple records, unofficial histories, and gazetteers. I also look at the legend of Baijie Amei in relation to similar legends from Burma, Yunnan, and Chinese antiquity dating back to the Han dynasty; these are recorded in official dynastic histories as well as local and regional histories. I argue that Baijie Amei’s own birth story violated Chinese historiographical standards that allowed male rulers, but



R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I 

19

not their mothers, to have miraculous births. Moreover, the sources for Baijie Amei’s legend circulated mainly among a branch of the Yang family in the Dali plain that actively promoted Bai language and group identity. Baijie Amei was a conduit that linked them to the illustrious Duan lineage of Dali’s independent past. In the chapter’s final section I examine sources for the continued worship of the Buddhist Baijie Shengfei. These consist of temple records contained in local gazetteers, most of which come from the Jianchuan region northwest of the Dali plain. The fourth chapter examines the legend of the widow martyr Baijie Furen in the Ming and Qing. I look at how this form of Baijie fits into the chastity cult that became prominent in late imperial China and how her chaste image was used to construct and contest ethnicity in Dali. Baijie Furen embodied feminine virtues that were closely tied to discourses of civilization and ethnicity but which people could invoke in different ways depending on their position. I also show why this widow martyr acquired the name Baijie in the nineteenth century after being known previously as Cishan, “Kindness”: the Buddhist Baijie’s name and temples outlived the rest of her identity, so people in the late Qing began reading “White Sister” as “Cypress Chastity.” The popularity of the widow martyr legend means that more writings about this Baijie have survived. Alongside unofficial histories, temple records, and gazetteer entries, we also find in gazetteers several poems commemorating the widow martyr Baijie (or Cishan). Most of these poems were written on the occasion of the Torch Festival, which had become connected to the legend of Baijie Furen by the Ming. Though male elites composed these poems and other writings on Baijie Furen, the legend of the widow martyr Baijie reached the general population through the celebration of the Torch Festival. This mode of popular transmission allows me to consider Baijie’s role as a moral exemplar for women in Dali, not just her representation by elite men. Chapter 5 constitutes a methodological break from the previous chapters. Instead of relying primarily on textual (and some visual) sources, my study of Baijie’s contemporary worship comes from field research I conducted in Dali from 2006 to 2009, mainly in 2007–2008. I show how modern conceptions of religion and ethnicity shape Baijie’s current identity as a tutelary village deity, or benzhu, and how representations of Baijie differ along lines of gender, class, and age. This chapter begins by laying the foundation for understanding contemporary Baijie worship. I examine how modern discourses of religion and ethnicity took form in the Republican era and continued to develop and change

20

R E L IG IO N , E T H N IC I T Y, A N D G E N D E R I N DA L I

in the first three decades of the PRC, with the classification of “nationalities” and the Cultural Revolution. The rest of the chapter is devoted to contemporary Baijie worship. Gender still marks a population’s degree of civilization, though now this is framed as masculine modernity in contrast to feminine tradition. As a symbol of the Bai minzu, Baijie combines the allure of minority female sexuality with the widow martyr’s sexual propriety. Bai scholars, officials, and tourism-­ industry workers can use her as an attractive Bai woman to appeal to stereotypes about minority women while proclaiming her chastity. People in Dali who work outside the realm of minzu discourse generally foreground Baijie’s gendered virtue and do not invoke ethnicity in discussing her legends and efficacy. Baijie is the only local deity in Dali’s history that has survived for so long and whose transformations provide so valuable a lens for understanding D ­ ali’s changes over a millennium. From her emergence in Buddhist texts of the Dali kingdom to her recent appearances on websites, Baijie has represented both Dali’s distinctive religious traditions and its engagement with translocal, transregional, and transnational forces. Following Baijie’s transformations over time shows how people in Dali have used gendered religious symbols to represent local and regional identities within a large range of possibilities.

1

BAIJIE’S BACKGROUND Religion and Representation in the Nanzhao and Dali Kingdoms

B A I J I E ’ S S T O RY begins in the Dali kingdom, an independent regime centered in the Dali plain that was roughly contemporaneous with the Song dynasty (960–1279). The preceding Nanzhao kingdom (649–903) laid the groundwork for Dali developments and played a central role in the region’s later formulation of ethnic identity. The Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms were the longest lasting of a series of independent regimes that ruled the area of modern-day Yunnan Province, along with parts of modern-day Sichuan, Guizhou, Vietnam, Laos, and Burma, from their capital in the city of Yangjumie, now known as Dali. They were surrounded by the kingdoms of India, Tibet, Southeast Asia, and the Chinese Tang (618–907) and Song dynasties. Understanding Baijie’s first form requires starting with Nanzhao and Dali culture, in order to locate Baijie within a broader context. Dali’s position as a hub in cross-cultural networks means that studies of the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms, including their Buddhist traditions, have focused on which neighboring country exerted the most influence on the region. Scholars generally agree that Buddhism entered Dali along multiple routes, but differ on the relative importance of these channels. Among art historians, for example, Helen Chapin and Angela Howard identify Chinese, Indian, Himalayan, and Yunnanese styles in Nanzhao and Dali kingdom art, while Li Lin-ts’an and Lee Yü-min reject Himalayan influence. 1 Buddhist texts from these periods are almost exclusively written in Sinitic script, which means that scholars who focus on texts tend to emphasize the region’s ties

22

BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R OU N D

with Tang-Song China. Hou Chong, the leading scholar of Dali Buddhism, attributes the region’s religious culture solely to Chinese forces.2 This chapter reconsiders claims about the nature of Nanzhao and Dali Buddhism by examining visual and textual materials together, shifting focus from influence to agency and reevaluating the salience of “ethnicity” for understanding Dali’s population in this period. Rather than focus on which neighboring country exerted the most influence on Nanzhao and Dali religion, I focus on Nanzhao and Dali agency in examining not only where the different elements of Nanzhao and Dali Buddhism came from, but why the ruling class adopted certain elements over others and represented their Buddhist tradition as they did. “Representation” underscores the exteriority of the identifications that appear in the sources rather than imputing an interior, psychological basis to them, and it does not assume that the sources of Dali Buddhism determine its meanings. Juxtaposing the networks by which Buddhist materials entered Dali with the representations of those networks in Nanzhao and Dali Buddhism illuminates how political and religious elites exercised agency in shaping court Buddhism. In addition to emphasizing the role of agency in the development of Nanzhao and Dali Buddhism, I rely only on contemporaneous sources from or about the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms in order to avoid anachronistic interpretations of the region’s history. Quantitative limitations on sources from Nanzhao and Dali have led some scholars to rely on Ming (1368–1644) and Qing records about the transmission of Buddhism to Dali, despite the complete absence of Nanzhao or Dali records corroborating these accounts. The ethnonym “Bai” (or “Bo”), which only becomes widespread in the Ming and Qing and is used today as a “nationality” (minzu) designation, is read back into Nanzhao and Dali history.3 Hou Chong’s recent work, which reveals the later construction of Dali’s legendary history, has provided a much-needed corrective to this problem, but more remains to be done.4 The quantitative limitations of extant sources complement their qualitative limitations: almost all extant materials about the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms come from the Tang and Song dynasties, and almost all extant materials from the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms are written in Sinitic script and contain few details about foreign relations with countries other than China.5 This raises the question of whether surviving sources represent Nanzhao and Dali history or if many non-Sinitic documents disappeared with the increasing Chinese influence of later centuries.



BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R O U N D

23

The sources’ limitations foreground China-Dali relations, but this does not entail adopting the perspective of Chinese discourse, which places the Dali region on China’s periphery and labels its inhabitants “barbarians.” Nanzhao and Dali paid tribute to the Tang and Song courts and in doing so adopted a subservient role, but this does not mean Nanzhao and Dali rulers blindly accepted the terms of Chinese discourse. Nanzhao and Dali rulers’ self-representations show how they actively engaged with Chinese discourse and positioned themselves geopolitically and historically. Even without much information concerning the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms’ interactions with their other neighbors, this reveals how such interactions were depicted for an audience that could read Sinitic script. Looking at Nanzhao and Dali elites’ engagement with Chinese discourse also prompts reconsideration of ethnicity under these kingdoms. Ethnicity has been central to academic discussions of Nanzhao and Dali history, but the category of ethnicity does not emerge in representations of collective identities from these kingdoms. Focusing on Nanzhao and Dali rulers’ self-­representation provides a new perspective that does not privilege Tang and Song writings, which record ethnonyms rooted in the Chinese-barbarian binary; the uncritical use of these sources in secondary scholarship reifies the Chinese discourse that spawned them. Though Nanzhao and Dali elite self-representation cannot be called ethnic, it does draw on gendered discourses that intersect with Chinese notions of barbarism and civilization. Tang and Song writings highlight how gender practices in Nanzhao and Dali diverge from those of Chinese culture, while Nanzhao and Dali sources allow for divergence in masculinity but not in femininity.

The Dali Region in History C H I N E SE DY NA ST I E S I N Y U N NA N : HA N T H R O U G H SU I

Before the seventh century the Dali region does not feature prominently in Chinese records. Instead, Chinese records focus on areas to the east and west of Dali where the Han dynasty (206 BCE–220 CE) established the Yizhou and Yongchang Commanderies as part of their imperial expansion.6 Han interest in the area stemmed from its potential for developing trade routes with India and its natural resources of salt and precious metals.7 The Dali region, called Yeyu in this period, first fell within Yizhou Commandery, but became part of Yongchang Commandery after the latter’s founding. The area controlled by these two commanderies had a diverse population before the arrival of Han

24

BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R OU N D

representatives, though Han records only provide substantial information about the more powerful among them. Within Yizhou was the Dian kingdom (ca. fourth century–109 BCE), which according to the Han shu (Han history) was ruled by the descendants of the third-century BCE Chu general Zhuang Qiao.8 The Dian ruler reportedly offered his submission to the Han, for which he was granted the seal of office and invested as the Dian king.9 Even though the Dian rulers’ purported ancestral homeland was closer to the Chinese heartland than Yunnan, their kingdom still fell into the category of “barbarian.”10 Yongchang Commandery was home to the “Ailao barbarians” (Ailao yi), who reportedly submitted to Han rule but rebelled several times shortly there­after. The Ailao adopted neither Chinese appearance nor ancestral claims: the Hou Han shu (History of the Latter Han) describes the Ailao as having pierced noses, stretched ears, and tattoos, and it recounts the origin myth of the Ailao that traces their ancestry to the coupling of a woman and a dragon at a pond below Ailao Mountain.11 The differences between the Dian rulers and Ailao— at least as described by the Han—show that the population of Yunnan had differing degrees of exposure to and acceptance of Chinese culture before the establishment of Yizhou and Yongchang Commanderies. The Han presence in Yunnan familiarized some of the native population with Chinese culture but did not impose Chinese culture upon them. Though Han expansion into the Southwest brought a wave of settlers from the empire’s interior, the Han lacked the resources to enforce strong central rule. Their presence in Yunnan relied on the cooperation of native authorities, with whom Han officials tried to cultivate mutually beneficial relationships. After the fall of the Han, subsequent Chinese dynasties maintained administrative offices in ­Yunnan.12 Until the Tang, these offices possessed virtually no real power, but they served as a constant reminder of the Chinese tradition introduced to the region by the Han. NA N Z HAO F O R E IG N R E L AT IO N S

With Tibet’s rise in the seventh century, the Dali area became militarily important for the Tang. When Tang officials reached the Er Lake plain in the 650s, the region was divided into six small kingdoms called zhao; the strongest was the southernmost kingdom of Mengshe, also called Nanzhao, or “Southern Kingdom,” and ruled by the Meng clan.13 The term zhao, which means “king” and “kingdom,” resembles a Thai word with the same meaning.14 This resemblance has been cited by scholars as evidence that Nanzhao was a Thai kingdom, a



BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R O U N D

25

theory that has now been debunked based on analyses of other Nanzhao vocabulary and Nanzhao culture.15 Tang-Nanzhao (and Zhou-Nanzhao) relations began by the late seventh century, when the Nanzhao rulers Xinuluo (r. 649–674) and Luosheng (r. 674– 713) sent tribute missions to the courts of Gaozong (r. 649–683) and the female

Chengdu

Jiannan

TIBET

TANG

Huichuan

Jianchuan

INDIA

Shibao shan



Er Lake

Lishui

Yangjumie

Nongdong

Yongchang

Lake Dian

NANZHAO

PYU

Tuodong Qianzhong

Tonghai

Jinghai Yinsheng

Legend COUNTRY Province Capital City Mountain



Water

MAP 1.1. 

Nanzhao kingdom (649–903)

HARIPUÑJAYA

CHENLA

26

BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R OU N D

emperor Wu (r. 690–705).16 This was an important gesture owing to the Tang’s weakening position in Yunnan, where many groups north of Dali had given their allegiance to Tibet. To reward the Nanzhao rulers’ loyalty, Tang did not attempt to limit their expansion: when Piluoge (r. 728–748) wanted to conquer the other five zhao in the 730s, he received approval from the Jiannan military commissioner Wang Yu (with the help of a generous bribe) and was granted the title “Yunnan King” (Yunnan wang).17 The Nanzhao rulers shifted their base from the Mt. Wei area to the Dali plain and established Yangjumie as their capital. The Tang-Nanzhao friendship was short-lived. With Nanzhao expansion, the Tang began to fear that by supporting this powerful ally in the Southwest they had created a dangerous rival. Tensions came to a head in the 750s when Nanzhao forces seized a Tang commandery, and in 751 Nanzhao formed an alliance with Tibet. However, Tibetan records indicate that Piluoge had already taken part in a mission to Tibet in 733, suggesting that Nanzhao rulers had long cultivated tributary relationships with both Tibet and Tang.18 After Nanzhao officially entered into an alliance with Tibet, Geluofeng (r. 748–779) was granted the titles zanpu zhong (Tib. btsan po gcung), meaning “younger brother of the emperor,” and Eastern Emperor (dongdi).19 Tibet also granted insignia (gaoshen; Tib. yi-ge or yig-tshangs) of various ranks to several Nanzhao officials in recognition of their allegiance.20 Meanwhile, Geluofeng subjugated the Pyu kingdom of modern-day Burma in 756 and took three thousand hostages after sacking its capital.21 Nanzhao rulers subsequently adopted the title piaoxinju (sometimes abbreviated piaoxin), which transliterates the Burmese term for “Pyu ruler.”22 The Nanzhao-Tibet alliance only lasted until 794, when in retaliation for heavy demands placed on them by the Tibetans, the Nanzhao ruler reconciled with the Tang. Conflict between Nanzhao and Tang reemerged in the second half of the ninth century, when Nanzhao repeatedly raided Chengdu and fought with Tang over control of Annam in modern-day Vietnam. They reconciled again at the end of the ninth century, but both collapsed shortly thereafter. NA N Z HAO E T H N IC I T Y A N D SE L F- R E P R E SE N TAT IO N

Nanzhao and Tang records show that the population of the Nanzhao kingdom was culturally diverse: different groups spoke different languages, wore different clothes, and performed different rituals. I will not attempt to reconstruct the demographics of the entire Nanzhao kingdom but will focus on issues surrounding the representation of people in the Dali plain, especially the Nanzhao



BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R O U N D

27

ruling class, including the question of whether ethnicity is a useful category for understanding this group’s collective identity. As early as the Han dynasty, Chinese records classified the native population of Yunnan uniformly as “southwestern barbarians” (xi’nan yi) and further divided it into subgroups.23 Subsequent Chinese dynasties adopted Han terminology, but we find new ethnonyms in the Tang. Tang records used the categories “black barbarians” (wuman) and “white barbarians” (baiman) to encompass a range of sub-groups in the Southwest.24 Nanzhao rulers’ place in this configuration is ambiguous: the Jiu Tang shu (Old Tang history) identifies Nanzhao barbarians as “a different kind [or race] of black barbarian,” but elsewhere it is reported that black barbarians married the Nanzhao, suggesting that Nanzhao rulers did not fall neatly into the “black barbarian” category. The distinction between black barbarians and white barbarians was superficially based on the different colors of women’s garments but more importantly on adherence to Chinese cultural norms. According to the Man shu (Book of barbarians): After the Western Cuan and white barbarians die, the burial occurs within three days, and the grave is made according to Han methods. . . . The Mengshe and various black barbarians do not bury their dead in a grave, but always cremate the corpse three days after death. The remaining ashes are buried in the soil; they only collect the two ears. . . . As for language, the pronunciation of the white barbarians is the most correct, that of the Mengshe barbarians is secondary, and the various tribes do not compare.25

Another description of the black barbarians states that “their language must be translated four times before they can communicate with the Central Kingdom [i.e., China].”26 The Tibetans, though themselves considered barbarians in Tang sources, seem to have adopted Tang terms for the Nanzhao population. The Old Tibetan Chronicle reports that the Tibetan emperor Khri ’Dus-srong (r. 676–704) “imposed tribute on the White Mywa and subjugated the Black Mywa,” with Mywa rendering the Chinese man.27 Tibetan records also identify the Nanzhao king Piluoge (Mid. Chn. bje la kak) as Mywa La-kag, or “[Pi]luoge of the Mywa,” and his son Geluofeng (Mid. Chn. kak la bjuwngH) as the Mywa king Kag la bong.28 Some modern scholars uncritically accept “black barbarian” and “white barbarian” as ethnonyms for the Nanzhao population: many map the former to the Nanzhao kings and the modern-day Yi nationality and the latter to the Dali

28

BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R OU N D

kings and the modern-day Bai nationality.29 I follow Fang Guoyu in reading “black barbarian” and “white barbarian” as generic labels that refer to a given people’s perceived proximity to Chinese culture rather than as ethnonyms.30 They reflect cultural differences but cannot be read as ethnic categories. More important, they should be treated with suspicion because they only appear in the writings of outsiders and contain the pejorative barbarian designation. In addition to the generic categories of white and black barbarians, Tang sources give specific descriptions of Nanzhao elites that invoke stereotypes of barbarians’ sexual impropriety. According to the Man shu, The Nanzhao ruler has hundreds of wives and concubines who are collectively called the ruler’s attendants. Prime ministers and generals have dozens of wives and concubines. According to common custom, maidens and widows come and go without restriction. At night young men walk around the alleyways, playing musical gourds or leaf whistles. They mix words of love with the music, and use this to call on girls. On the evening before a wedding, the bride’s secret lovers all come to send her off.31

This description casts Nanzhao men and women as sexually unrestrained. Male political and military leaders cannot control their sexual desires, which Chinese historiography often blames for dynastic collapse. Similarly, in Chinese discourse women’s appearances and sexual practices have long signified a given population’s perceived degree of civilization or barbarism. Tang literature treats barbarian women as exotic-erotic figures whose uninhibited sexuality simultaneously titillates and threatens.32 Descriptions of Nanzhao women’s extramarital sexual relationships suggest that the entire Nanzhao population lacks Confucian civilizing virtues. Depictions of the Nanzhao population in Tang sources traffic in discourses of barbarism in a way that strongly suggests they do not align with how Nanzhao elites depicted themselves. Evidence of Nanzhao self-representation can be found in both Tang and Nanzhao sources, but not all of these are necessarily ­reliable. Tang sources report that the Meng clan claimed to be descendants of the Ailao people, whose territory became the Han dynasty’s Yongchang C ­ ommandery.33 This finds support in a Yuan (1279–1368; 1253–1382 in Dali) legend that inserts the Meng clan into the Ailao origin myth. In light of the Tang reference to the Meng as Ailao, it is tempting to date the myth to the Nanzhao kingdom, but there is no solid proof for this. Perhaps the Meng clan did identify as Ailao, but the absence of this identification in the 899 Nanzhao tuzhuan (Illustrated history of



BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R O U N D

29

Nanzhao) and other Nanzhao sources at least shows that this identification was not part of Nanzhao kings’ public self-representation. Another problem with the Ailao identification is that the Hou Han shu describes the Ailao as having pierced noses, stretched ears, and tattoos, but images and descriptions of Nanzhao rulers do not indicate that they engaged in such practices.34 Even in the absence of strong proof that the Nanzhao rulers claimed to be descendants of the Ailao, it appears that, like the Ailao, their dress and nomenclature did not conform to Tang standards. The most distinctive element of their appearance is their oblong crown; court officials have shorter versions of this, and men of lower rank wore their hair in a topknot. This contrasts with the flattopped crown or black hat worn by Tang emperors and may bear some relation to the headdresses and hairstyles of Burma and the modern-day Yi ethnic group in China.35 Nanzhao nomenclature follows the patronymic linkage system in which sons’ names begin with the last component of the father’s name: the first five Nanzhao rulers are Xinuluo-Luosheng-Shengluopi-Piluoge-Geluofeng.36 The ruling families of the other five zhao also followed this system and intermarried with each other and the Meng clan, but their fates and naming practices following the Nanzhao conquest are not found in the historical record. The patronymic linkage system has been associated with speakers of Tibeto-Burman languages, such as the Burmese, Yi, and Mosuo.37 For the Nanzhao rulers to have continued using this nomenclature reflects their unwillingness to adopt Chinese identities. Though the Meng clan may not have represented themselves as Chinese, it appears that some segments of the Nanzhao population did, namely, the socalled River barbarians (he man) who lived on the Dali plain.38 In the 648 Xi Erhe fengtu ji (Record of local customs in western Er River), the Tang general Liang Jianfang recorded that the inhabitants of the area “claimed their ancestors were originally Han people . . . [Their] language, though slightly distorted, is generally the same as Chinese [zhongxia]. They have writing, and somewhat understand yinyang and calendar calculation.”39 Furthermore, these people used Chinese surnames, with the Yang, Li, Zhao, and Dong clans being the most powerful.40 Nanzhao rulers may have maintained practices that were foreign to Tang, but this does not mean they rejected everything Chinese. They followed Tang models in creating their administrative structure, which contained six departments (cao) that corresponded to the six divisions (bu) of Tang government.41 At the same time, the titles they used for officials who served in these departments did

30

BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R OU N D

not follow Tang models.42 Geluofeng and Yimouxun (r. 780–808) relied heavily on the Chinese advisor Zheng Hui, whom Nanzhao originally captured in their attack on Suizhou but who eventually became Yimouxun’s teacher. Either he or another Chinese advisor to the Nanzhao court authored the 766 Dehua bei (Stele of transforming through virtue), a record of eighth-century Nanzhao history aimed at repairing Nanzhao’s relationship with Tang.43 The text of the Dehua bei, having been written by a Tang literatus, uses terms from Confucianism and Chinese cosmology.44 It emphasizes the titles Tang bestowed on previous Nanzhao rulers but also identifies the Nanzhao king and top officials by their Tibetan titles, zanpu zhong and gaoshen.45 With the Dehua bei, the Nanzhao court was probably trying to impress Tang with their mastery of Chinese culture while suggesting that they had other options for cultural and political contact.46 However, Nanzhao elites did not seek out Tibetan and Tang culture to equal degrees. Nanzhao raids on Sichuan show their desire for Chinese technology, as they targeted artisans as their hostages. The Xin Tang shu (New Tang history) reports of the 829 siege that “Nanzhao from this point on had craftsmanship, literature, and weaving equivalent to the Central Kingdom.”47 Around the same time, thousands of “barbarian students” (man zidi), a group that probably included young men from Nanzhao, were studying in Chengdu.48 No records from Nanzhao or Tibet indicate that Nanzhao elite were educated in Tibet or actively looked for Tibetan technologies. In fact, the Old Tibetan Chronicle remarks that Nanzhao’s affiliation with Tibet had been particularly galling to the Tang emperor because the Nanzhao king considered himself to be Chinese.49 We can draw the following conclusions about representations of the Nanzhao elite: Tang (and Tibetan) sources classify Nanzhao rulers as barbarians but consider them to be relatively advanced barbarians. The Nanzhao rulers would have been aware of the Tang binary of Chinese versus barbarian, but they did not adopt this paradigm. They embraced many elements from Tang— writing system, administrative structure, technology—while maintaining dress, nomenclature, and lineage claims that placed them outside the realm of Chineseness. It is difficult to assess whether the category of ethnicity is useful in describing representations of the Nanzhao elite. Tang labels for the various “barbarians” of Nanzhao can be considered ethnic in that they presume the shared features that (in my use of the term) characterize a group as ethnic.50 However, the Nanzhao rulers’ perspective has not emerged clearly from the sources considered so far. They did not represent themselves as Chinese, but aside from Tang reports that they considered themselves to be descendants of



BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R O U N D

31

the Ailao people, it is unclear whether their self-representation can be understood in terms of ethnicity. Smith’s study of premodern ethnicity argues for the central importance of religion in the formation and survival of ethnic groups (ethnie), so sources from Nanzhao Buddhism may shed light on Nanzhao ethnicity and self-representation.

Nanzhao Buddhism, Ethnicity, and Self-Representation P R E - NA N Z HAO R E L IG IO N I N Y U N NA N

There is little information about religion in Yunnan before the introduction of Buddhism, which occurred by the mid-seventh century. Archaeological findings suggest that prehistoric religion in eastern Yunnan featured animal and human sacrifice centered around a metal pole and the ritual use of bronze drums.51 Such metal poles seem to have been used in the Dali region as well: the Nanzhao tuzhuan opens with a scene of local chieftains assembling at an iron pillar to perform sacrifices to heaven. Unfortunately, the lack of information about these practices, especially in the later period, makes it difficult to draw conclusions about what they involved. Some scholars have argued that Daoism was known in Nanzhao based on a reference to the “Three Offices” (sanguan) of heaven, earth, and water in the record of the 794 Tang-Nanzhao treaty, but Hou Chong has shown convincingly that invoking the Three Offices was a standard part of Tang treaties and unrelated to the Way of Celestial Masters’ “Three Offices Writs,” which were used for curing illnesses.52 Another theory that pervades contemporary Chinese scholarship on Nanzhao religion is the idea that the worship of benzhu or tuzhu (literally, “local lords”), a practice that contemporary Bai scholars depict as a unique feature of modern Bai religion, began with the Nanzhao kings.53 However, this theory relies on sources from the Yuan, long after the fall of the Nanzhao kingdom; no Nanzhao sources use these terms. The lack of evidence for non-Buddhist religions in the Nanzhao period does not necessarily mean they were absent—it is quite possible that they thrived among Nanzhao commoners—but it suggests that they had a much less prominent role than Buddhism among the ruling class. NA N Z HAO BU D D H I SM

Buddhism had probably been introduced to the Dali region by the end of the seventh century. In 698 a funerary stele was erected for the Tang (and Zhou) official Wang Renqiu in his hometown of Anning, west of modern-day K ­ unming.

32

BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R OU N D

The stele contained a niche with Śākyamuni and Prabhūtaratna flanking a seven-story pagoda, based on the “Treasure Stūpa” chapter in the Lotus Sūtra.54 Wang Renqiu spent his career just south of Er Lake in the Dali region, which suggests that Buddhism would have been known there but leaves it unclear whether Buddhism had spread to the non-Tang population at this time. The earliest evidence for Nanzhao Buddhism comes from the reign of King Quanfengyou (r. 823–859) in the form of an 851 inscription dedicating images of Maitreya and Amitābha at Shibao shan (Stone Treasure Mountain; also called Shizhong shan) in Jianchuan. Most of the Buddhist grottoes at Shibao shan date to the Dali kingdom, but the appearance of this Nanzhao-era inscription, as well as the style of certain images, suggests that carving began there in the late Nanzhao. The statues themselves follow Tang, and specifically Sichuanese, iconographic conventions of robust, sturdy figures, and both of these buddhas were popular in the Tang.55 Modern scholars have identified the main figures in three of Shibao shan’s caves as Nanzhao kings and extrapolated that the Nanzhao court sponsored these grottoes, but the identifications themselves are problematic, let alone the conclusions drawn from them.56 However, even if the grottoes at Shibao shan were not sponsored by the court, it is clear that Nanzhao rulers had embraced Buddhism by the second half of the ninth century. In addition to the Nanzhao king Shilong’s (r. 860–877) well-known Buddhist devotion, Nanzhao kings constructed Chongsheng si (Revering Holiness Monastery) and its Qianxun  ta (Thousand League Pagoda) in Yangjumie during the ninth century.57 The Yuan record Dali xing ji (Travel record of Dali) claims that the Tang sent great architects to build Chongsheng si and Qianxun ta, and modern scholars have confirmed that they resemble similar structures from the Tang, as opposed to pagodas or stūpas from India or Southeast Asia.58 The “Holiness” (sheng) in Chongsheng si’s name probably refers to the Acuoye form of Guanyin that appears in the Nanzhao tuzhuan. T H E NA N Z HAO T U Z H UA N

The Nanzhao tuzhuan recounts how the bodhisattva Guanyin (Skt. Avalokiteśvara) introduced Buddhism to Yunnan in the guise of an Indian monk, prophesied the founding of the Nanzhao kingdom, and conferred a Buddhist mandate upon the Nanzhao rulers. Its first section tells the story through captioned illustrations; its second section recapitulates the events in Sinitic script. The surviving copy of this work comes from the Dali period, and an



BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R O U N D

33

image of the Dali founder Duan Siping has been appended to it; but the body of the text states that it was created by the Nanzhao officials Wang Fengzong and Zhang Shun in 899 to explain to the young ruler Shunhuazhen (r. 897–902) how Buddhism entered the region.59 Its date means that the Nanzhao tuzhuan represents attitudes toward Buddhism in the last part of the Nanzhao kingdom, especially the reigns of Shilong, Longshun (r. 878–897), and Shunhuazhen. The audience for the Nanzhao tuzhuan seems to have been the court itself, though it would have been legible to anyone who could read Sinitic script. The Nanzhao tuzhuan is structured around seven transformations of Guanyin, whose true form is identified as Acuoye (Skt. ajaya, here meaning “invincible”) Guanyin. The bodhisattva first appears as an army of celestial soldiers who help the second Nanzhao king Luosheng conquer the surrounding territory. Later, the wives of the first two Nanzhao rulers offer food to an Indian monk, also Acuoye Guanyin, and the bodhisattva prophesies that their husbands will rule for many generations. Acuoye Guanyin keeps the form of an Indian monk to spread Buddhism throughout Nanzhao territory, though the populace is generally unreceptive. In one village where the inhabitants are not prepared to hear the dharma, Guanyin appears in the sky in his true form, then assumes the identity of a sculptor to reproduce the image exactly. It is this statue that the Nanzhao king Longshun hears about and dispatches his officials to find, but they discover only the monk’s petrified boot. The illustrations end with a group of figures from the story paying obeisance to Acuoye Guanyin, while the text ends with an imperial proclamation attesting to this account of Buddhism’s origins in the Southwest, and a eulogy praising “Nation-Founding Holy Source Acuoye Guanyin” (Jianguo shengyuan Acuoye Guanyin) for introducing the teachings. The “true form” of Acuoye Guanyin in the Nanzhao tuzhuan is a slender male figure wearing only a dhoti, jewelry, and a high crown with a buddha seated in the middle. Other paintings, stone carvings, and small statues of ­Acuoye Guanyin that date to the Nanzhao and/or Dali kingdoms display the same iconography. Art historians differ on whether Acuoye Guanyin’s iconography came from Southeast Asia or India and whether it entered Yunnan directly from its point of origin.60 Based on Acuoye Guanyin’s closest resemblance to figures from Southeast Asia, particularly Champa and Śrīvijaya, as well as the uniformity of all Acuoye Guanyin images, it is likely that a single statue of the bodhisattva ended up in Dali and became the model for all other images.61 However, regardless of how Acuoye Guanyin entered the Dali region,

34

BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R OU N D

the Nanzhao tuzhuan clearly represents the bodhisattva as Indian, and furthermore, places the bodhisattva in an esoteric context.62 The central claim of the Nanzhao tuzhuan is that Guanyin sanctioned Nanzhao rule and introduced Buddhism to Nanzhao territory directly from India. This is meant to correct the earlier rumor that the one responsible for introducing Buddhism to Nanzhao was the Tang monk-pilgrim Xuanzang (600–664). According to the Nanzhao tuzhuan, in 825 a monk from the western regions (i.e., India) named Pulituohe came to the capital and said, “Acuoye Guanyin, the worthy of the Lotus Division in our western region, came from the Tibetan [Fan] kingdom and performed transformations until reaching your Great Feng People Kingdom. Where is he now?”63 The Lotus Division is the division (or family) of the esoteric maṇḍala governed by Avalokiteśvara. The Nanzhao ­tuzhuan also hails Acuoye Guanyin for “opening the marvelous gate of the esoteric” (kai mimi zhi miao men).64 These references consistently depict Acuoye Guanyin as an esoteric Indian figure. Another claim to Indian Buddhist transmission with esoteric overtones appears in the final image of people paying obeisance to Acuoye Guanyin. The most prominent figure here is the ruler Longshun (called Longhao), who looks Indian: he is barefoot, clad only in a dhoti, and has his hair in a bun. Two attendants stand behind him holding vases, and the text mentions the “emperor being sprinkled by the basin in the ninth year of Cuoye [897], dingsi annum.”65 This depicts an abhiṣeka, or consecration (Chn. guanding) ceremony, through which the Buddhist ruler Longshun identifies with Acuoye Guanyin.66 The cartouche additionally highlights Longshun’s Buddhist kingship: “Mahārāja Earth Wheel King bstan-pa’i rgyal-mtshan Who Calls on the Four Directions to Become One Family, the Piaoxin Meng Longhao.”67 These titles are significant because they do not point to China: “Mahārāja Earth Wheel King” refers to the cakravartin ideal of Buddhist kingship, in addition to using a Sanskrit title; bstan-pa’i rgyal-mtshan is a Tibetan term that means “victory banner of the [Buddhist] teachings”; and piaoxin references Nanzhao suzerainty over Pyu. In contrast, no Chinese titles appear. These claims of esoteric Indian Buddhist kingship are not the only kind of representation in the Nanzhao tuzhuan, however. The term “Great Feng people kingdom” (Da Fengminguo) appears throughout the text, and the Xin Tang shu reports that Longshun called himself the “Great Feng Person” (da Feng ren).68 Some modern scholars read feng as the ancient pronunciation of bai, as in the Bai minzu, but these two characters only sounded similar, not



BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R O U N D

35

identical.69 Given the meaning of feng as “enfeoff,” it seems more likely that “Feng People” referred to Tang enfeoffment of Nanzhao rulers.70 It hints at the possibility of ethnic identification, at least at court, but its use is not widespread enough to draw broader conclusions about its significance for Nanzhao self-representation. Depictions of the Meng clan and other figures in the illustrations of the Nanzhao tuzhuan hint at Nanzhao self-representation. Members of the Meng clan have bare feet and light skin and all wear long robes with underskirts; the men have topknots and goatees, while the women wear their hair in buns and are adorned with jewelry. The nine men worshipping at the iron pillar who appear at the end of the scroll share the features and dress of the Meng. In contrast, the villagers who were hostile to the Indian monk appear with dark skin; black bands around their arms and legs; physical features such as larger noses, deep-set eyes, and heavier beards; and wearing dhoti-like garments. In fact, aspects of the Nanzhao tuzhuan show familiarity with Chinese culture. Acuoye Guanyin quotes the Yijing (Book of changes) in his prophecy to the Nanzhao rulers’ wives; sets the zhaomu order of tablets based on generational divisions in the ancestral temple; and follows the five cardinal virtues of Confucianism.71 Another term that appears three times in the Nanzhao tuzhuan and again in the texts of Dali kingdom Buddhism is rushi, a term that can mean “Confucianism and Buddhism” but in this context clearly refers to religious experts; Hou identifies these figures as Buddhist scholar-monks who engaged in doctrinal studies and were well-versed in the Confucian tradition.72 Their presence in the Nanzhao tuzhuan, along with the other terminology from the Chinese classics, shows that Nanzhao elites’ adoption of the Chinese classical tradition went beyond their use of Sinitic script and Tang technology. The representation of Nanzhao rulers in the Nanzhao tuzhuan does not meet criteria for determining “ethnic” identification, but it does show how late Nanzhao rulers depicted themselves in politico-religious terms. Nanzhao rulers claimed mastery of Chinese culture, as shown by their references to the classical Chinese tradition and use of Sinitic script, but did not claim Chinese identities. In fact, the Nanzhao tuzhuan claims multiple origins for the “holy teachings of the Great Feng People Kingdom. . . . Some came from Central Asia [Hu] and India [Fan], some came from Tibet [Fan] and China [Han].”73 Despite this proclamation about the source of Nanzhao Buddhism as a whole, in the Nanzhao tuzhuan the source of the Nanzhao kings’ Buddhist royal mandate is unmistakably India.74

36

BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R OU N D

Nanzhao rulers’ claim to a direct Indian Buddhist mandate does not in itself distinguish them from other Buddhist kings. Leaving aside the point that Chinese Buddhists sometimes represented their tradition as Indian (e.g., by composing scriptures that claimed Indian provenance), India enjoyed considerable allure during the Tang as the Buddha’s birthplace. What does distinguish Nanzhao rulers’ claims is their position in relation to Tang China. The Nanzhao kingdom’s peripheral position made it difficult for them to claim parity in Chinese culture; no matter how many classical texts they cited, they would remain barbarians in the eyes of the Chinese court. Yet their location granted them an opportunity to claim superiority in the competing cultural system of Buddhism. The Nanzhao kingdom’s proximity to India lent their Buddhism the cachet of authenticity that their ruling class exploited by using Indian titles such as “Mahārāja” and attributing the introduction of Buddhism in their land to the mysterious “Acuoye” Guanyin who manifested in the form of an Indian monk. This strategy appealed to the rulers of the Dali kingdom, who presented themselves as the Mahārāja’s heirs.

Foreign Relations and Representation in the Dali Kingdom

The turmoil that splintered the Tang into the Five Dynasties and Ten Kingdoms was echoed in Dali by the fall of the Nanzhao kingdom and quick succession of three short-lived regimes. When Duan Siping took power in 937, he founded a kingdom that mirrored the Song dynasty in its duration. The frequent sparring between Nanzhao and Tang led to considerable bloodshed but has proven beneficial to historians, as Tang officials left several records of their military and diplomatic engagements in the Southwest. Song emperors may have spared lives and resources through their policy of non-engagement with Dali, but as a result their historical records are largely silent on matters related to the Dali kingdom. Most surviving materials from the Dali kingdom are Buddhist texts and visual art. Though extant sources on Dali history are fewer than those for the Nanzhao, some records do shed light on foreign relations and representation during the Dali kingdom. The most comprehensive record of Dali history is the Ming Nanzhao yeshi (Unofficial history of Nanzhao), but its late date and legendary content call its reliability into question.75 Still, sources from the Dali kingdom and Yuan dynasty corroborate some of the Nanzhao yeshi’s information. There are also a handful of Song records on interactions with representatives of the Dali kingdom and a few Dali inscriptions that provide clues about Dali elites’



BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R O U N D

37

self-representation in relation to Song. Few records about the Dali kingdom’s relations with other neighboring countries have survived, which reflects Dali rulers’ greater focus on Song. T H E T E N T H - C E N T U RY I N T E R R E G N UM

The only accounts of the Nanzhao kingdom’s fall, founding of three short-lived regimes, and establishment of the Dali kingdom appear in the much later Yuan Ji gu Dian shuo ji (Collected records of ancient Dian) and Ming Nanzhao yeshi. According to these texts, the Nanzhao ruler Longshun had a trusted official named Zheng Maisi, a seventh-generation descendant of the Chinese Nanzhao official Zheng Hui. When Longshun embarked on a royal inspection of the eastern capital Shanchan (modern-day Kunming), Zheng Maisi guarded the kingdom.76 He continued to serve under Longshun’s son Shunhuazhen, but after Shunhuazhen’s death he killed the infant heir, usurped the throne, and founded the kingdom of Great Eternal Peace (Taichangheguo) in 902.77 Zheng Maisi’s kingdom did not last long. In 928, the Jianchuan military commissioner, Yang Ganzhen, killed the last Zheng ruler and installed the prime minister, Zhao Shanzheng, as ruler of the Great Heavenly Arising kingdom (Datianxingguo). Before even a year had passed, Yang Ganzhen deposed Zhao Shanzheng and established the Great Righteous Tranquility kingdom (Dayiningguo) in 929.78 Duan Siping’s defeat of Yang Ganzhen and founding of the Dali kingdom (meaning “Great Principle”) in 937 ushered in a period of relative stability. Few records survive about the rulers of these short-lived kingdoms. It is possible that the Zheng, Zhao, and Yang rulers presented themselves as Chinese: Zheng might have been a descendant of Zheng Hui, and the Zhao and Yang clans are included in the Xi Erhe fengtu ji’s list of prominent clans of the Dali plain who claimed Han ancestry.79 However, no surviving clues indicate what this identification would have meant. It is more significant that all were officials under Nanzhao, as was the Dali kingdom’s ruling Duan clan. This suggests continuity from the Meng rulers through the Duan. Nanzhao and Tang sources record the names of five Duan men who served as generals and/or prime ministers (qingpingguan) of Nanzhao.80 Duan Siping’s elite background means that he would have had the resources to consolidate power. Most details of his rise to the throne have been lost, but it seems that he succeeded by forming an alliance with thirty-seven groups in the Dali region.81

38

BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R OU N D

T H E DA L I K I N G D OM

Dali territory was roughly the same as that held by Nanzhao.82 Its borders probably shifted throughout its history, but not as much as under Nanzhao because the Dali rulers did not have the same expansionist vision. Song records refer to the “eight kingdoms” (ba guo or ba zhao) of Yunnan, which were the Dali kingdom’s eight administrative divisions outside the capital of Yangjumie.83 These also generally followed Nanzhao divisions. In addition, Dali rulers adopted most of the Nanzhao’s distinctive titles for officials and claimed for themselves many of the same titles as their Nanzhao counterparts.84 Dali rulers used the title “emperor” more frequently, probably because of their relative independence from Song and Tibet. Though Dali rulers did not call themselves Mahārāja, this title was granted to the last Dali king, Duan Xingzhi (r. 1252–1254), by the Mongol government after their conquest of the region, showing that its use was not limited to the Nanzhao king Longshun.85 The Dali kingdom is usually divided into two periods: the Former Li, from 937 to 1094, and the Latter Li, from 1096 to 1253. Between 1094 and 1096 the former prime minister, Gao Shengtai, established the short-lived Great Central Kingdom (Dazhongguo).86 The Gao clan served as prime ministers throughout the Dali period, and their power grew consistently, so that by the end of the Former Li the Duans were rulers in name only.87 DA L I F O R E IG N R E L AT IO N S

Dali relations with the Song differed markedly from Nanzhao-Tang relations. When the first Song emperor, Taizu, came to power, he declared that, in light of Tang difficulties in the Southwest, he would forfeit the Yue and Sui Commanderies and use the Dadu River as the border with Dali.88 His successors followed this policy, so contact between the Song and Dali was minimal. Song records show reluctance to engage with Dali directly in any way, even through the standard tributary relationship of vassal (Dali) and lord (Song). Because of Song officials’ wariness, Dali was only allowed to offer tribute at the Song court on three occasions. Their requests to offer tribute were repeatedly rejected on the grounds that they would cause trouble for Song, as Nanzhao had for Tang. Thus, Song granted fewer titles to Dali rulers; the only reported case is that of Duan Heyu (aka Duan Zhengyan, r. 1108–1147), who received a series of titles in 1117, including Yunnan Military Commissioner ( jiedushi) and Dali King ( guowang).89



BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R O U N D

39

In surviving Song materials about the Southwest, trade is the main focus, which, considering the rapid development of commerce at this time, is to be expected. For the most part Song trade with Dali, which centered around horses, was conducted through intermediaries at markets in Song territory. The rise of rival powers in the North and Northwest cut off Song’s traditional horse-­buying channels and forced them to look to Yunnan.90 The Ling wai

Chengdu

TIBET Tongchuan

Jianchang

SOUTHERN SONG

Shanju DongHuichuan chuan

Moutong

Shibao shan



Tengchong

Yangjumie

Er Lake

Nongdong Shicheng

DALI

Yongchang

Guangnan Xiushan

Legend

Zuining

LÝ

COUNTRY Jinglong

Province Capital City



Water

MAP 1.2. 

Dian

Weichu

BAGAN

Mountain

ShanLake chan

Dali kingdom (937–1253)

40

BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R OU N D

daida (­Reports from beyond Ling) states, “The various barbarian horses from the south all come from the Dali kingdom.”91 DA L I E T H N IC I T Y A N D R E P R E SE N TAT IO N

The infrequency of Dali-Song contact contributed to Song ignorance about the kingdom in the Southwest. Song records make it clear that they relied heavily on Tang information about that region, leading them to view the Dali as an extension of the Nanzhao.92 Unsurprisingly, Song depictions of Dali ethnicity are vague: they do not divide the Dali population into subgroups, and most references to the Dali court use the generic “barbarian” (man) or “Southern barbarian” (nan man). Only in the Song shi (Song history) section on “Various Barbarians of Lizhou” do we find anything specific: “Those called the Great Yunnan Barbarians [da Yunnan man] and those called the Minor Yunnan Barbarians [xiao Yunnan man] are from the area called Nanzhao during the Tang, today called Dali.”93 This passage also locates the white barbarians 100 li southeast of the Lizhou prefecture capital and the black Meng barbarians 1,000 li southeast of the prefecture capital, which would put them to the east of the Dali kingdom in Song territory.94 The division of the “Yunnan barbarians” on one hand and the “white and black barbarians” on the other seems to correspond to the division of Dali and Song territory. Unlike Tang official histories, which include Nanzhao in the “Southern Barbarians” section, that of the Song includes Dali in the “Foreign Countries” (waiguo) section. This probably reflects the different circumstances under which these histories were written: while Song officials wrote the Tang histories, the Song shi was compiled in the late fourteenth century under the Yuan, and its contents do not necessarily represent the views of the Song court. Even though Song-Dali contact was minimal, Song records indicate that Dali elites maintained an interest in Chinese culture. Fan Chengda (1126–1193) recounted a visit to the Hengshan market by Dali representatives who led a group to discuss the sale of horses. The Dali contingent pulled out a book with a date of the twelfth month of the second year of Lizheng (1252–1254; or Lizhen, 1172–1175, in the Song shi version) that contained a list of all the ­titles they sought to acquire in exchange for horses, including Chinese literary works, medical tracts, Buddhist scriptures, and various rhyme dictionaries.95 Fan marveled at how “these people all possessed proper etiquette, and carried and recited Buddhist books.”96 Fan’s characterization of Dali interest in Chinese culture finds support in Dali sources, the vast majority of which were written



BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R O U N D

41

in elegant classical Chinese. Many writings of Dali elites refer to Confucius and virtues such as filial piety, loyalty, and righteousness, corroborating Fan’s account of Dali representatives seeking classical Chinese literature. There are fewer indications of how Dali elites represented themselves in their relations with the Song (and none concerning their relations with other countries) than for the Nanzhao in relation to the Tang. One inscription refers to the Dali rulers as “emperor” (di) and places the Song king (wang) on the same level as the “barbarian king” (man wang).97 This shows that Dali elites adopted the civilized-barbarian binary of Chinese discourse but claimed the privileged role for themselves. However, there are no clues about how the Dali elites depicted their ancestry. Yuan records claim that the Dali kingdom’s Duan rulers originally came from Wuwei Commandery in modern-day Gansu Province, but this is not confirmed by Song or Dali sources.98 A significant change from Nanzhao is apparent in Dali rulers’ naming practices, which generally do not follow the patronymic linkage system. This suggests that the Dali elites presented themselves as more “Chinese” than their Nanzhao counterparts. Dali rulers’ ethnicity and self-representation are more difficult to assess because the vast majority of materials from the Dali kingdom are Buddhist in content and do not explicitly address these issues. The greater attention to Nanzhao ethnicity and representation stems from Tang desires to classify the population of what they considered their territory and Nanzhao responses to this project. Non-Buddhist sources from the Dali kingdom suggest considerable continuity from the Nanzhao to the Dali kingdom in terms of prominent families, administrative structure, official titles, and Chinese views of the region’s ethnic makeup, but a markedly different geopolitical climate.

Sources for the Study of Dali Buddhism

Until recently, sources for the study of Dali Buddhism were mostly limited to art historical materials, aside from a handful of inscriptions; scholars relied heavily on records from the Ming and Qing for textual knowledge. Buddhist manuscripts from the Dali kingdom were discovered in sites around the Er Lake plain throughout the twentieth century but were only available to a select few who managed to see the original manuscripts held in universities, libraries, and museums in Kunming and Dali. A few Dali Buddhist texts were edited by Hou Chong and included in the series Zangwai fojiao wenxian (Extracanonical Buddhist documents) during the 1990s, but the 2008 publication of Dali congshu. Dazangjing pian (Collected works of Dali. Buddhist canon) has made

42

BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R OU N D

Jianchang Shanju DongHuichuan chuan

Moutong

Shibao shan



Tengchong

Yangjumie

Nongdong Shicheng

DALI

Yongchang

Lake Dian

Shanchan

Weichu Xiushan

Chongsheng si and Qianxun ta

Zuining

Er Lake

Hongsheng si ta

Jinglong

Yangjumie Fotu ta

Fazang si

Er Lake Plain

MAP 1.3. 

Dali kingdom Buddhist sites

all of the manuscripts available.99 Sources are still limited, but the availability of these texts allows for a more complete understanding of Dali Buddhism than was previously possible. DA L I BU D D H I ST A RT

The most famous work of art from Dali Buddhism is the Fanxiang juan (Roll of Buddhist images), which was originally created in an accordion-fold format under the supervision of the artist Zhang Shengwen during Duan Zhi­ xing’s Lizhen reign era (1172–1175).100 This painting, now remounted as a scroll, presents a fascinating set of Buddhist figures, ranging from Chan patriarchs to wrathful dharma guardians. The Fanxiang juan is undeniably the product of Dali court Buddhism: its first colophon states, “Painted [for] the Lizhen Emperor and Piaoxin,” and it begins with an image of Duan Zhixing followed by his imperial retinue.101 This scene is mirrored at the end of the scroll by a series of frames depicting the “Great Kings of Sixteen Kingdoms” from the Renwang



BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R O U N D

43

huguo boreboluomiduo jing (Prajñāpāramitā scripture for benevolent kings to protect their countries; hereafter Renwang jing) and a “State-Protecting Precious Pillar” (huguo baochuang) that contains a Sanskrit dhāraṇī devoted to the goddess Prajñāpāramitā (Perfection of Wisdom).102 Images of Dali kings as cakravartins appear throughout the painting, reinforcing the close bond between Buddhism and statecraft.103 Buddhist stone carvings from the Dali kingdom have been found at several sites in the Dali and Kunming regions.104 Dedicatory inscriptions, as well as the subjects and style of the carvings, date them to the Dali kingdom. Statues of Buddhist deities and other artifacts, such as miniature pagodas, incense burners, and vajra daggers, were discovered in the pagodas Qianxun ta and Hongsheng si ta (located near the former capital) during the twentieth century. These objects can be dated to the Dali kingdom with certainty because the pagodas were not opened after this period.105 Most figures depicted in Dali Buddhist art are familiar buddhas, bodhisattvas, and esoteric dharma guardians whose depictions primarily follow Song models, though some scholars see Indian and Tibetan motifs in certain images.106 Dali Buddhist art also contains distinctive images, such as carvings of the goddess Uṣṇīṣavijayā (Chn. Zunsheng fomu) that do not match Chinese or Tibetan versions.107 It is difficult to determine how certain iconographic elements entered Dali because they were not anchored to their place of origin; just because a given image looks Indian does not mean it necessarily came to Dali directly from India. DA L I BU D D H I ST T E X T S

Writings from the Dali kingdom offer more clues about their provenance, though questions remain. Dali Buddhist texts include manuscripts from the pagodas Qianxun ta and Fotu ta and from the Dong family temple Fazang si. In addition, there are surviving epigraphical sources in the form of Sanskrit dhāraṇī carved on bricks, as well as dedicatory and funerary inscriptions. With the exception of the Fazang si scriptures, these sources can be reliably dated to the Dali kingdom. The Fazang si corpus contains material from the Ming, and many of its Dali-era texts could have been lost over the centuries. The vast majority of manuscripts in Dali were translated or composed in China, meaning that they were written in Sinitic script and entered the Dali region from the Tang through Song.108 Seven texts from Fazang si have only been found in Dali, and they, too, are written in Sinitic script with the exception of some Sanskrit terms and dhāraṇī. One is

44

BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R OU N D

a subcommentary on the Renwang jing called Huguo sinan chao (Compass for protecting the country subcommentary).109 Three are related to the study of Baijie Shengfei/Fude Longnü. The other three are esoteric ritual texts that appear to have close ties to Chinese texts but which await further research.110 A handful of texts from the Dali kingdom were written in Sanskrit; most of these are dhāraṇī, but they also include two manuscripts from Fazang si.111 The key question about the use of Sanskrit in the Dali kingdom is whether Dali Buddhists acquired these texts directly from India or from Tang-Song China. Both Sanskrit texts from Fazang si could have entered Dali from China, as similar Sanskrit texts in Japan came from China.112 Walter Liebenthal posited Indian origins for the Sanskrit dhāraṇī inscribed on bricks used in pagodas built under the Nanzhao and concluded that the Dali kingdom Uṣṇīṣavijayā dhāraṇī inscriptions on tombstones came from Dharmadeva’s (Fatian and Faxian) tenth-century version of the text.113 He acknowledged the possibility that these Sanskrit texts entered the Dali region from the Tang or Song, given the dominance of Chinese Buddhism in the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms, but leaned toward an Indian transmission.114 Liebenthal’s work provides a foundation for studying Sanskrit inscriptions in Yunnan, but this issue requires more study by experts in both Sanskrit and Dali history. Most materials about Buddhism in the Dali kingdom came from or concerned the Buddhism of Dali elites, particularly members of the ruling Duan and Gao families and government officials. It appears that Buddhism did reach all segments of Dali society, at least by the end of the kingdom. The Yuan records Ji gu Dian shuo ji and Dali xingji (Record of travel in Dali) both explain that because of Dali’s proximity to India, its inhabitants were particularly devout Buddhists who all had Buddha halls, always grasped rosaries, and observed vegetarian fasts for nearly half the year.115 However, they do not state whether commoners (or elites) followed other religious traditions as well. S O U R C E S F O R O T H E R R E L IG IO N S I N T H E DA L I K I N G D OM

As in the case of Nanzhao, few sources from the Dali kingdom say anything about non-Buddhist religions. Non-Buddhist religions must have been practiced somewhere within Dali territory, probably in the Dali plain, but these practices were not recorded in surviving sources. A few Dali-era inscriptions refer to Chinese cosmology and Daoism. The epitaph for the thirteenth-­century Buddhist monk Xi Zhi declares that during the Dachanghe kingdom his ancestors were healers well versed in the “cinnabar of immortality and divine



BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R O U N D

45

techniques” (xiandan shenshu).116 The Nanzhao yeshi reports that the second ruler of the Dachanghe kingdom, Zheng Renmin (r. 910–926), died suddenly after swallowing cinnabar medicine (danyao).117 Of the texts that Dali representatives sought to acquire from Song, the medical manuals Wuzang lun and Duda bencao guangzhu were based on Chinese medical theory that was closely connected to Daoism. This suggests that Dali elites did adopt non-Buddhist medico-religious practices. Dali kingdom elites were generally conversant in the terminology of Daoism and Chinese cosmology. An inscription from 1186 quotes from the Yijing and makes several references to Chinese cosmology.118 However, we see no mention of popular Daoist texts, and no sources mention Dali court patronage of ­Daoist institutions or the enfeoffment of local deities. Some contemporary scholars point to the appearance of talismans in Dali kingdom art as an example of Daoist practice, but the talismans in question appear in a Buddhist work.119 At the Dali court Buddhism did not face the kinds of attacks it suffered in Tang and Song, and it does not appear to have had competition from Daoist ­rivals. Though it is dangerous to argue from a lack of evidence, the utter absence of Daoist materials from the Dali kingdom, coupled with the lack of references to Daoism in contemporaneous sources, strongly suggest that it did not play a major role in Dali court religion. Assessing popular worship is far more difficult, as no sources from the Dali kingdom report on non-elite religious practices. The passage from the Ji gu Dian shuo ji quoted above supports the view that Buddhism had reached all levels of Dali society, but we do not know what form of Buddhism it was or what other traditions the average Dali resident would have followed.

Southwestern Chan and the Heirs to the Mahārāja: China and India in Dali Buddhism

Several works of Dali Buddhism show that Dali kings inherited the Buddhist traditions of the Nanzhao rulers and represented themselves as heirs to the Nanzhao Buddhist mandate. Nowhere is this clearer than in the Fanxiang juan, which reproduces several images from the Nanzhao tuzhuan that depict Nanzhao rulers interacting with the Indian monk form of Acuoye Guanyin.120 Dali rulers also continued the worship of Acuoye Guanyin, as seen in images of the bodhisattva in the Fanxiang juan and several small statues with inscriptions linking them to the Duan kings. At the same time, the Fanxiang juan additionally includes a Chan lineage with standard Indian and Chinese patriarchs

46

BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R OU N D

as well as regional figures from Sichuan and Nanzhao. The resulting image of Dali kingdom Buddhism shows continuity with Nanzhao emphasis on the Indian origins of their Buddhist transmission but also continuity with Nanzhao adoption of Chinese Buddhism. Dali kingdom manuscripts further give a fuller picture of Buddhism in this period, including its esoteric orientation. The Nanzhao dress and titles that Dali rulers adopted were not superficial symbols of royal authority but part of a larger system of politico-religious legitimation. Dali rulers claimed to be the rightful heirs to the Buddhist mandate that Guanyin bestowed upon the Meng clan. Inasmuch as the Nanzhao Buddhist mandate was depicted as coming directly from India, India was important for the Dali rulers, too. The replication of the Nanzhao tuzhuan’s Indian images—the Mahārāja, Acuoye Guanyin, and the Indian monk—emphasizes the continuation of this Indian Buddhist tradition. Like the Nanzhao rulers, Dali rulers represented their form of Buddhism as coming directly from India. E S O T E R IC BU D D H I SM I N DA L I

Dali rulers also embraced the esoteric tradition that was popular in late Nanzhao. Defining esoteric (or tantric) Buddhism is no easy task, especially in the Chinese context, where the concept of an esoteric teaching distinct from the Mahāyāna only arose in the Song with the work of Zanning (919–1001).121 Before the Song, the term “esoteric” (mi) referred to a higher form of Mahāyāna teachings contrasted with the “exoteric” (xian).122 As I use it in the Dali context, “esoteric Buddhism” does not refer to a cohesive school but to a system of ritual practice designed to lead to the immediate identification of the practitioner and deity that allows the former to harness the power of the latter. This follows David Gordon White’s definition of tantra, according to which the unity of practitioner and divinity mirrors the unity of the mundane and supramundane realms, which is also expressed in terms of the unity of nirvāṇa and saṃsāra, or the immanence of buddhahood.123 Ruling ideologies can be found throughout Buddhism, but they play a special role in esoteric Buddhism. Ronald Davidson has shown that the esoteric Buddhist system developed in India around the “imperial metaphor” in which the abhiṣeka ritual effected the identification of the king and buddha.124 The king-buddha identification appeared in the Nanzhao tuzhuan and remains an important theme in Dali-era scriptures. Amoghavajra’s (Chn. Bukong; 705– 774) eighth-century “translation” of the Renwang jing was especially popular in the Dali kingdom: two copies of the text survive, along with the Huguo sinan



BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R O U N D

47

chao subcommentary. Frames 130–134 of the Fanxiang juan show the Renwang jing’s influence in images of the “State-Protecting Precious Pillar” and “Group of Kings of the Sixteen Great Countries.” One of Amoghavajra’s goals at the Tang court was to emphasize the importance of ācāryas (Chn. asheli or azuoli), religious preceptors who played a prominent role in esoteric Buddhism, primarily in performing the consecration ceremony. Amoghavajra himself served as an ācārya and orchestrated Emperor Xuanzong’s (r. 712–756) consecration ceremony.125 Colophons and inscriptions from the Dali kingdom show that Dali rulers employed ācāryas, and ācāryas play important roles in the esoteric ritual manuals that have only been found in Dali.126 Some scholars see the ācāryas of Dali Buddhism as heirs of either the Indian monk Candragupta or Tibetan mahāsiddhas, but the position of ācārya was also known in Tang-Song Buddhism through Amoghavajra’s work.127 Moreover, other Dali monks bear titles that originated in China, such as “Recipient of the Purple Robe” (cizi) and “Imperial Advisor” ( jianyi daifu), which suggests that Dali rulers looked to China for Buddhist roles more than to India or Tibet.128 The contents of texts and images that ācāryas used can also be called esoteric or potentially esoteric. Three of the ritual texts found only in Dali direct the practitioner to summon deities (frequently Vajrasattva) to the ritual area by means of mantras and mudrās and to then visualize identification with the deity to harness its powers.129 Other materials also belong to an esoteric system. Among the artifacts found in Qianxun ta is a silk vajradhātu (Vajra realm) maṇḍala with the deities’ names written in Sanskrit and represented by bīja, “seed syllables.”130 Henrik Sørensen notes that this maṇḍala diverged from Tang models: rather than the nine assemblies found in the Tang, this maṇḍala depicts a single assembly around the five dhyāni buddhas and their divisions.131 Some materials locate Dali kingdom esoteric Buddhism within a regional tradition: sets of eight vidyā-rājas (Chn. mingwang) in Dali texts and art do not match canonical sets, but some do match sets from Sichuan.132 Other materials from Dali Buddhism, particularly images of deities, are potentially esoteric in the sense that they could have been used within a esoteric system but could have been used in non-­esoteric ways, too. For example, it is unclear whether the worship of the goddess Uṣṇīṣavijayā (as Zunsheng Fomu) in Dali took place in an esoteric system or if she and her dhāraṇī only appeared in a separate funerary context. Perceptions that esoteric Buddhism never flourished in China have led scholars to see Indian and Tibetan origins for Dali kingdom Buddhism. Recent scholarship on esoteric Buddhism in Song China has shown that it did not

48

BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R OU N D

fade away after the Tang and in fact enjoyed widespread popularity, especially in places such as Sichuan. The fact that most Dali kingdom esoteric texts were written in Sinitic script and shared regional traditions with Sichuan points to Song sources for Dali esoteric Buddhism. However, the distinctive elements of esoteric Buddhism in Dali, such as the vajradhātu maṇḍala, hint that Dali kingdom Buddhism was not imported wholesale from the north. S O U T H W E S T E R N C HA N : I M AG E S O F C HA N M O N K S I N T H E FA N X IA N G J UA N

If the source of the esoteric Buddhist materials of the Dali kingdom remains somewhat ambiguous, the same cannot be said for the Chan lineage that appears in the Fanxiang juan. Frames 40 through 54 follow the “mind-to-mind transmission” from the Buddha Śākyamuni to Mahākaśyapa, Ānanda, and Bodhidharma in India; the six standard patriarchs of Chinese Chan from Huike through Huineng; and a set of regional figures from Shenhui through a monk labeled Faguang (Dharma-Light). The lineage of Chinese patriarchs could only have entered Dali from Tang and/or Song territory, which complicates the Fanxiang juan’s claim that Buddhism entered Dali from India. This section of the Fanxiang juan adds a Chinese Buddhist transmission to the existing legend of a direct Indian transmission. Heze Shenhui (684–758) gained fame for promoting subitist rhetoric and the legacy of the sixth patriarch Huineng, but he was not widely recognized as the seventh patriarch, which makes his inclusion in this Chan lineage curious. He appears to connect the six standard Chinese patriarchs to Sichuan and then to Dali. However, this depends on the conflation of two figures named Shenhui, the Heze Shenhui of oratorical fame and Jingzhong Shenhui (720–794) of the Jingzhong and Baotang Chan lineages based in Sichuan. Zhang Weizhong, the Sichuanese monk in frame 51, studied under Jingzhong Shenhui and was the grand-disciple of Heze Shenhui.133 The double Shenhuis thus provide a link from the primary Chan lineage to the local tradition of Dali by way of Sichuan. Frames 52–54 depict Xianzhe Mai Chuncuo, Chuntuo Dashi, and Faguang Heshang, who appear to be Chan monks who would have lived in the Dali region during the Nanzhao kingdom. However, the only information about them comes from Ming and Qing sources.134 This Chan lineage is followed by the Mahārāja in frame 55, the Indian monk Candragupta (Zantuoquduo) in frame 56, an unidentified monk in frame 57, and the Indian monk Guanyin in frame 58.135 The Mahārāja, Candragupta, and the Indian monk Guanyin all represent



BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R O U N D

49

the direct transmission of Buddhism to Dali from India. This appears to contradict the message of the Chan lineage, which clearly enters Dali through China. The Mahārāja seems to be a pivotal figure here: he receives the Chan transmission from Faguang but also the direct Indian transmission from Candragupta, the Indian monk Guanyin, and possibly the mystery monk in frame 57.

F IG U R E 1 . 1 .  

Chan lineage, Fanxiang juan frames 50–51.

Source: The Collection of the National Palace Museum

50

BA I J I E’ S BAC KG R OU N D

The Chan lineage was probably included to give another form of legitimacy and authority to Dali Buddhism. Considering the increasing popularity of Chan in Song China, this addition would have been timely. Combined with the use of Chinese artistic styles and content in Dali Buddhist art, this suggests that the Dali elite followed their Nanzhao counterparts in looking to China for new cultural trends. However, this Chan transmission does not negate the earlier transmission that came directly from India. The reproduction of scenes from the Nanzhao tuzhuan in the Fanxiang juan, together with the continued popularity of the Indian monk figure and Acuoye Guanyin in Dali art, shows that India was still depicted as the source of the Buddhist royal mandate claimed by the Dali rulers. This underscores the differences between Dali Buddhism and that of the Song: Dali rulers represented their court Buddhism as coming directly from India, while in Song China India was losing its symbolic power as the center of the Buddhist world.136

Conclusions: Representations in and of Dali Kingdom Buddhism

Dali kingdom Buddhism was in many ways an extension of Nanzhao Buddhism. Dali rulers continued to represent their Buddhist tradition as a direct transmission from India, even as they adopted most of their texts and deities from the Song. Despite the Dali kingdom’s close proximity to Tibet, India, and Southeast Asia, there is little evidence that Dali elites drew on the Buddhist traditions of those countries. Though Dali elites adopted elements from Song Buddhism, this does not reduce Dali Buddhism to a part of this larger tradition. Hou Chong’s work has been valuable for drawing attention to transregional networks and regional diversity within Song Buddhism, challenging the idea that religion is bound by national borders or discursive categories (e.g., “Chinese”). Dali Buddhism should be studied in relation to Song Buddhism and the Buddhist traditions of other so-called border states. However, the sovereignty of the Dali kingdom and the fact that the vast majority of sources for Dali kingdom Buddhism come from the court means that Dali Buddhism should not be subsumed under the Song umbrella.137 Baijie Shengfei’s example will further clarify Dali Buddhism’s unique and distinctive aspects.

2

H O LY C O N S O RT W H I T E S I S T E R Baijie Shengfei and Dali Buddhism

M O S T B U D DH I S T M AT E R I A L S from the Dali kingdom are well-known scriptures and images of familiar deities, but several examples distinguish Dali Buddhism from the Buddhist traditions of its neighbors. One such example is the goddess known alternately as Fude Longnü, “Dragon Maiden of Good Fortune,” and Baijie Shengfei, “Holy Consort White Sister,” who appears in the Fanxiang juan and three of the six ritual texts from Fazang si that have only been found in Dali. Neither her names nor her iconography identify her clearly with any known figure, and the four sources from the Dali kingdom connect her to various deities, leaving her identity a mystery. What does remain consistent throughout the sources are her gender—she is always depicted as female— and her pairing with the god Mahākāla. This chapter aims to solve the mystery of Baijie Shengfei’s (and Fude Longnü’s) identity by examining how Dali kingdom sources represent her, how she is connected to other deities, and in which kinds of materials she appears. Baijie Shengfei, as an example of the distinctive elements in Dali kingdom Buddhism, provides a lens for examining how and why the ruling class of the Dali kingdom used gendered religious symbols to present their politicoreligious identity. Dali rulers articulated this identity primarily in relation to notions of Chineseness, and their use of gendered religious symbols engaged the discursive framework of Chinese and barbarian identities that was current in the Tang-Song dynasties. However, this does not mean that Dali Buddhism is coextensive with Song Buddhism or that Baijie Shengfei should be

52

HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI ST E R

understood as a “Chinese” deity, despite Hou Chong’s claims to the contrary.1 Baijie Shengfei offers a specific focus for examining different theories concerning the nature of Dali kingdom Buddhism, from Hou’s sinocentrism to the multiple routes proposed by other scholars. More important, her example illuminates Dali Buddhism’s systematicity and hybridity by showing the recurring themes in Dali court Buddhism as well as its representations as Indian, Chinese, and local.

Divine Constellations: Baijie Shengfei and the Dali Pantheon

Making sense of Baijie Shengfei in Dali kingdom Buddhism presents the same challenges as does making sense of Dali kingdom Buddhism as a whole: there are several religious texts and images from this period but little context to explain how people encountered them. I address these challenges by adopting methodologies that address context as fully as possible while focusing on structures in the texts, all of which involves combining historical and semiotic approaches. The historical context refers to relations between the Dali region and Chinese regimes as well as politico-religious representation in the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms. For example, determining that Nanzhao and Dali rulers represented their Buddhist tradition as Indian despite adopting most of their Buddhist texts from Tang and Song territory informs my reading of Dali kingdom sources for Baijie Shengfei, as does the finding that materials from the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms lack clear representations of ethnicity. I also locate the four sources for Baijie Shengfei within the full corpus of surviving materials from the Dali kingdom to determine how their contents and styles compare to other Buddhist texts and images from this period. These considerations will be particularly important in linking Baijie Shengfei to politico-religious representation. In focusing on the four sources from the Dali kingdom in which Baijie Shengfei (or Fude Longnü) appears, I adopt a semiotic approach to understanding her identities that foregrounds her relations to other deities. Baijie Shengfei is a regional figure, but sources tie her to several transregional Buddhist figures that help make sense of her field of signification. Saussure’s theories of the syntagmatic and associative (or paradigmatic) relations between linguistic terms provide a model for locating Baijie Shengfei within the pantheon of the Dali kingdom.2 The former refer to the connections that each of the four texts makes



HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI S T E R 

53

between Baijie Shengfei and other deities, while the latter refer to associations that occur outside the separate texts, such as relating the four texts to each other or to other Buddhist materials. Baijie Shengfei can be seen as the center of a constellation defined by her semiotic relations to other deities. One of Baijie Shengfei’s paradigmatic qualities that connects her to other goddesses is gender. As a modern discourse, gender constitutes a potential threat to the project of avoiding anachronistic readings of Dali kingdom sources. Like ethnicity, gender tends to be universalized and perceived as natural or biological. The work of Michel Foucault and Judith Butler has done much to challenge this view as it relates to both gender and sex, but even more than ethnicity, gender’s applicability to any cultural context is all too often assumed. Just as ethnic discourse can mask clan, class, or national interests, so too can gender discourse mask other forms of identification based on age, family role, class, region, and so forth. However, ethnicity and gender also differ in ways that have implications for how I read them in premodern sources. Sources from the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms may not support discussion of ethnicity, but they do offer ways of reading gendered symbolism. The “fei” (consort or queen) of Baijie Shengfei and “nü” (maiden, daughter, or female) of Fude Longnü each denote roles that are defined partially in terms of gender: fei indicates a female figure defined by her relationship to a male figure, while nü can indicate femaleness as opposed to maleness (nan) or a role defined by gender and age or family relationships. It is particularly important to address the ways in which these gendered concepts differ to avoid assuming a monolithic notion of femininity or womanhood. Examining masculinities as another dimension of gender also obviates the frequent conflation of gender with femininity, which renders masculinity as normative. This can be difficult when the sources themselves treat masculinity as normative, as occurs in the extant Dali kingdom materials about Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla. Baijie Shengfei and Fude Longnü’s names mark them as feminine, but nothing in Mahākāla’s titles explicitly marks him as masculine. This very lack of gender marking can be read as a mark of masculinity, but other characteristics can be read as masculine, too, such as Mahākāla’s ferocity and his gendered relationship with Baijie Shengfei. Buddhism provides a framework for understanding the gendered symbolism of Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla. The esoteric pairing of masculine and feminine figures that symbolizes transcending duality through the union of wisdom and compassion offers a model for the Baijie Shengfei–Mahākāla

54

HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI ST E R

relationship. Mahākāla’s wrathful appearance complements the more benign image of Baijie Shengfei, which accords with esoteric iconographies. However, the sources show that the relationship between Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla does not go as far as many esoteric texts and images in terms of sexual union or clearly articulated religious symbolism. Buddhism also supports a gendered reading of Baijie Shengfei’s various identities, some of which relate to debates over women’s spiritual potential (such as the eight-year-old nāgī from the Lotus Sūtra who shows that her female body is no impediment to enlightenment by instantaneously becoming a buddha and adopting a male form). Like other forms of identification, gender does not exist independently but is constituted in relation to other discourses. Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla illustrate how gender is embedded in politico-religious symbols of the Dali court. Understanding Dali kingdom Buddhism through the example of Baijie Shengfei requires understanding these different elements as mutually constitutive. Even without contextual information on the social practices and interpretations surrounding Dali kingdom materials, it is still possible to read gendered symbolism from them in relation to their politico-religious symbols. One way of examining the intersections of gender and politico-religious representation in the example of Baijie Shengfei is to consider the gendered dimensions of ethnocultural discourse in Tang-Song China. Nanzhao and Dali elites were familiar with the categories of “Chinese” and “barbarian” and in fact used these terms strategically. This suggests that the elites of the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms would have also encountered the gendered aspects of this discourse, namely, the eroticization of barbarian women and the martial bestialization of barbarian men. Representations of Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla engage this discourse by emphasizing certain gendered characteristics that mark ethnocultural difference from Chineseness but not others. This chapter builds a constellation around Baijie Shengfei source by source, starting with the Fanxiang juan image, proceeding through the two food-­distribution ritual texts, and culminating with the ritual text dedicated to Mahākāla. For each source I consider the syntagmatic and associative relations between Baijie Shengfei and other figures, the gendered symbolism of these figures, and the intersections of this symbolism with politico-religious representation. Though there are some points of variation between surviving materials, overall the constellation that emerges presents a consistent image of an otherwise mysterious goddess.



HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI S T E R 

Dragon Maiden of Good Fortune: Fude Longnü in the Fanxiang juan

55

The only visual source for Baijie Shengfei in the Dali kingdom is the Fanxiang juan, which depicts her in frame 123 with the label “Great Holy Dragon Maiden of Good Fortune” (Dasheng Fude Longnü). Fude Longnü stands on a jagged stone platform in the middle of a watery expanse. She wears long reddish robes that extend to the floor, revealing the tips of her upturned shoes atop serpent coils, and she is adorned with a gold crown, necklace, earrings, and bracelets. Her left hand is held up to her heart, and her right hand touches the bald head of a youth standing next to her. Curiously, considering that she comes to be called Baijie, or “White Sister,” Fude Longnü’s skin is darker than that of her retinue and most other figures in the scroll. Three white snakes rise over her head, one in the center and one on each side; each has two horns and a jewel on its head. Fude Longnü is joined by four female attendants, each with one snake on her head; a youth with a bald head wearing robes and a girl with one snake on her head; and two animal-headed attendants, one with a serpent’s head and tail but human arms, the other with a rooster’s head, serpent’s tail, and human arms. Frame 123 shares its watery background and plumes of mist with frame 124, which depicts Mahākāla, identified by a cartouche as “Great Holy Great Black God” (Dasheng Dahei Tianshen). He also stands on a stone pedestal, making clear his pairing with Fude Longnü. The name Mahākāla means “Great Black,” but this image of the god is white. Lee Yü-min traces this to the legend of Mahākāla defeating the ḍākinīs, in which he smears ashes on himself.3 A red beard frames his face, which has three red eyes and two protruding fangs. Skulls and snakes accent his gold crown and form the sash he wears on his left shoulder. He sports a necklace of snakes and severed heads, and snakes encircle his arms and legs. The god’s top half is bare; his lower half is clad in a red underskirt, on top of which is a tiger skin, finished with a white sash and gold belt. He has four arms: the lower right holds a skull bowl; the upper right, a trident with snakes wrapped around it impaling a human head; the upper left, an hourglass drum; and the lower left, a lasso. A flaming nimbus frames Mahākāla’s head, and a long white scarf winds around his body. Mahākāla is joined by two male attendants, who are squat and have dark skin, and two female attendants, who wear long robes and hold platters with lotus flowers and a gold pagoda. The Fude Longnü–Mahākāla pair is nested within a subsection of the Fan­ xiang juan that depicts wrathful dharma guardians. This section extends from

56

HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI ST E R

frames 116 through 128 and includes figures that the Dahei tianshen daochang yi identifies as different forms of Mahākāla, as well as Vaiśravaṇa, Heruka, and Maheśvara. Though the Fanxiang juan does not explicitly identify them as dharma guardians, their iconographies and other Buddhist sources mark them as such. Dharma guardians (especially male dharma guardians) often appear wrathful and violent in order to subjugate demonic forces that can threaten the Bud-

F IG U R E 2 . 1 .  

Mahākāla and Fude Longnü, Fanxiang juan frames 123–124.

Source: The Collection of the National Palace Museum



HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI S T E R 

57

dhist teaching. With the exceptions of Fude Longnü and Vaiśravaṇa in frame 117, these figures have supernumerary heads, eyes, and limbs, wear minimal clothing, and make ferocious expressions. Their wrathfulness contrasts with the benign demeanors of the bodhisattvas that dominate frames 86–115, most of which are forms of Guanyin. These dharma guardians also clearly differ from the arhats, Chan patriarchs, and buddhas that constitute other subsections in the painting. The Fanxiang juan’s symmetry means that the dharma guardians at the end of the painting mirror the dharma guardians that appear at the beginning of the painting in frames 7–22. These consist of vajra beings, Āṭavaka (god of the wasteland), the paired Green Dragon and White Tiger, a set of dragon kings, and the gods Indra and Brahmā.4 Both sets of dharma guardians are connected to royal figures: the first group immediately follows the image of the Dali emperor at the beginning of the painting, while the second group immediately precedes the nation-protecting pillar and sixteen great kings of the Renwang jing. Dharma guardians do not protect only the dharma but also regimes that support the dharma. Fude Longnü and Mahākāla thus can be seen as defenders of the Dali kingdom. Though the Fanxiang juan clearly groups Fude Longnü and Mahākāla together, their respective iconographies in the painting first require separate attention. Fude Longnü does not appear outside of Dali, so her image raises questions about her connection to similar figures in other regional traditions; Mahākāla was known in Southeast Asia, India, Tibet, Central Asia, and (to a lesser extent) Tang-Song China, which raises questions about where Dali kingdom rulers and artists looked for their images of the deity. SE R P E N T HO O D A N D C H I N E SE R O B E S : F U D E L O N G N Ü ’ S H Y B R I D IC O N O G R A P H Y

Fude Longnü’s name and iconography identify her as a dragon maiden, a role that encompasses both the Chinese longnü and the Indian nāgī, or female serpent. Her hybrid iconography embodies these dual associations. One of the most distinctive aspects of Fude Longnü’s appearance is the serpents framing her face and the coils beneath her feet. Within the Fanxiang juan, this connects her paradigmatically to other figures with the same iconographic elements, that is, the dragon maidens in frames 12 and 39; the dragon kings of frames 13–14; the dragons in frames 81 and 94; and the serpent goddess Jāṅgulī in frame 112. Of these figures, the dragon kings in frames 13–14 shed the most light on this distinctive iconography’s significance.

58

HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI ST E R

Frames 13–14 depict the Indian dragon kings (Chn. longwang; Skt. nāgarāja) Upananda and Sāgara, respectively, each with serpents framing his face and seated upon serpent coils in the posture of royal ease. However, they are not the only dragon kings in the painting. The set continues in frames 15–18, but these dragon kings look completely different: they appear in a more Chinese style, two in martial dress and two as scholar-officials, with the only hint of their serpentine nature visible in the dragons that accompany them. Moritaka Matsu­moto’s theory that two painters were responsible for the iconography of the Fanxiang juan explains the two kinds of dragon kings. He argues that an artist trained in Song styles painted the dragon kings in frames 15–18, while an artist trained in Dali’s archaistic regional style painted the central figures in frames 13–14, as well as Fude Longnü in frame 123.5 The archaistic Dali style that Matsumoto identifies in images of Fude Longnü and other such dragons signifies India, especially when contrasted so clearly with Song iconographic conventions. Images of nāgas in human form with hoods of odd-numbered serpent heads appeared in India from the third century BCE through the twelfth century CE.6 Such nāga images remained popular in India and took root in Southeast Asia, Tibet, and to a lesser extent Japan but were not widespread in China, where they were mostly restricted to descriptions and images in the Buddhist canon.7 The Indian style of nāga iconography appears in earlier paintings from Dunhuang but has faded away by the second half of the tenth century.8 The relative absence of the Indian nāga iconography in China can be explained by the nāga’s synthesis with the Chinese dragon. Buddhist nāgarājas took on the appearance of Chinese longwang, which (as seen in frames 15–18) looked like Chinese scholar-officials or warriors. Indian iconographic elements are not unusual in Tang and Song Buddhist art. The allure and power of Buddhist images in China derives in part from their “exotic” appearance. Fude Longnü and other such nāga images in the Fanxiang juan are striking because their particular Indian iconography was virtually unknown in Chinese Buddhist art; the only examples that might be considered “Chinese” come from the Central Asian regions of Dunhuang and Kyzil. They belong to the pattern in Nanzhao and Dali kingdom art of representing the region’s Buddhist tradition as Indian. Even if Fude Longnü’s iconographic elements come from India, they do not identify her with any specific deity there. Several images of nāgīs with three serpent heads appear in Indian art, but none correspond to Fude Longnü’s other features. Moreover, most Indian nāgīs wear only loincloths and have ex-



HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI S T E R 

59

aggerated hourglass figures, which differs from Fude Longnü’s full-coverage robe. In the Fanxiang juan, the wrathful serpent goddess Jāṅgulī represents a more exposed nāgī, inasmuch as she wears only a loincloth and serpent garlands (though in this image she is much more androgynous than most Indian nāgī figures).9 This suggests that Fude Longnü’s image is not based solely on Indian elements. All studies of the Fanxiang juan have noted that its overall artistic style comes from Tang and/or Song painting.10 Dressed in her long, loose, empire-waisted robes and bedecked in gold jewelry, Fude Longnü has the appearance of an aristocratic Chinese lady. In fact, her ophidian features and dark skin are all that mark Fude Longnü as “exotic.” Fude Longnü’s hybrid iconography in the Fanxiang juan can be read in relation to the gendered dimensions of politico-religious representation. She displays a more Indian iconography than the dragon kings of frames 15–18, but she does not embody the more exposed style of Indian iconography seen in many of the deities in the painting. In light of Chinese associations of barbarism with nudity and unrestrained female sexuality, the depiction of Fude Longnü as a covered lady signifies civilization and Chineseness. At the same time, her serpent hood and coils signify Indianness. Her image marks a difference—but not too great a difference—from Chineseness, which corresponds to the overall politico-religious representation seen in Nanzhao and Dali kingdom sources. D R AG O N M A I D E N O F G O O D F O RT U N E : R E A D I N G T H E NA M E “F U D E L O N G N Ü ”

Like Fude Longnü’s appearance, her name has not been found elsewhere, though it consists of familiar elements. “Fude Longnü” does not appear in the Taishō or Zoku Zōkyō canons, and I have not found it in Dunhuang manuscripts or other Chinese writings. A male deity known as Fude Longshen (Dragon God of Good Fortune) is worshipped today in Southeast China and Taiwan as an earth god, but I have discovered no other connection between these two figures.11 In the absence of other references to the name “Fude Longnü” I will consider its two parts (“Fude” and “Longnü”) separately. “Fude” is a common term in Buddhist scriptures that I translate as “good fortune.” In addition to being a translation of the Sanksrit puṇya, “merit,” it is used to translate śrī and lakṣmī. The goddess Śrī Lakṣmī’s name is usually translated into Chinese as Gongde Tiannü, “Goddess of Merit,” and Jixiang Tiannü, “Goddess of Auspiciousness,” but Fude has been used, too. As Hou Chong points out, the Dunhuang text Pishamen yuanqi (Vaiśravaṇa’s origins) includes

60

HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI ST E R

the following exchange: “Ānanda asked the Buddha, ‘World-Honored One, why is she called Woman of Good Fortune [Fude nü]?’ The Buddha told Ānanda, ‘On the day of her birth 500 white elephants were born in the household, so she was called Good Fortune. She is also called Greatly Auspicious [Dajixiang].’”12 Hou cites this as proof that Fude Longnü is another name for Śrī Lakṣmī (and further includes Baijie Shengfei in this identification based on references in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi).13 While deities’ fluid identities makes such a straightforward one-to-one identification dubious, Hou is correct in noting the ties between Fude Longnü and Śrī Lakṣmī. Śrī Lakṣmī is best known as a Hindu goddess, but like many other Indian deities she plays a role in Buddhism as well. Buddhist texts classify such figures (including Mahākāla and the goddess Hārītī) as gods (devas) who have been converted to Buddhism and thereafter vowed to protect the dharma. Dharma guardians have ambiguous status in Buddhism, as they can be described either as manifestations of enlightened beings or as common beings stuck within the six paths of rebirth who have yet to advance very far on the Buddhist path. Many dharma guardians, such as Śrī Lakṣmī, retain their earlier functions related to wealth, fertility, or warfare. Śrī Lakṣmī is associated with prosperity or wealth, but not as much with agricultural fertility or human fecundity. She also embodies a wifely feminine role, especially when paired with Vaiśravaṇa, the dharma guardian of the northern direction. Fude Longnü’s implied association with Śrī Lakṣmī suggests that she, too, functions as a dharma guardian (supported by her placement in the Fanxiang juan) and that she signifies feminine abundance in relation to a male deity. “Longnü,” the other element in Fude Longnü’s name, further constellates her with both Chinese dragon maidens and Buddhist nāgī, which share Śrī Lakṣmī’s associations with abundance. Edward Schafer has theorized that female dragons were prominent water deities in Chinese antiquity but by the medieval period had either been replaced by male dragons or lost their zoomorphic nature and became naiads.14 Female dragons represented the fecundity of moisture and occupied bodies of water, such as lakes and rivers. They embodied the tellurian aspect of water, rather than the celestial, seminal form connected to male dragons. An enigmatic phrase in the Nanzhao tuzhuan suggests that people in Dali worshipped dragon maidens in the Nanzhao kingdom. Acuoye Guanyin is said to have “introduced civilizing virtues and established institutional regulations. He set the zhaomu order in the ancestral temple and initiated the ritual



HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI S T E R 

61

procedures of the dragon maiden.”15 Though “ritual procedures of the dragon maiden” is ambiguous, the passage clearly links dragon maiden rituals to classical Chinese culture, while identifying the Indian bodhisattva Acuoye Guanyin as the civilizing agent.16 Even if the dragon maiden rituals referenced here are unrelated to Fude Longnü, they demonstrate that during the Nanzhao kingdom dragon maidens were linked to both Chinese culture and India. In an Indian Buddhist context, longnü refers to nāgī, or female serpents that can also appear in human form. The most famous of these is the nāga king Sāgara’s eight-year-old daughter who attains buddhahood in the Lotus Sūtra. Thomas Cleary identifies Fude Longnü as Sāgara’s daughter, which is prescient considering he did not know that the Dahei tianshen daochang yi also makes this identification.17 The nāgī that appears in frame 39 of the Fanxiang juan offers a pearl to Śākyamuni as Sāgara’s daughter does in the sūtra, but her iconography does not completely match that of Fude Longnü.18 Still, it appears that people in the Dali kingdom made a connection between these nāgī figures and that dragon maidens played an important role in Dali kingdom Buddhism. Fude Longnü’s iconography and name reflect the adoption of elements from India and China, but they also suggest the convergence of local and translocal characteristics. She signifies the literary trope that Bernard Faure has identified in which Buddhist monks convert local gods, which take the form of serpents or nāgas.19 The domestication of local dragons also appears in tales of Chinese conquest: an account of a dragon maiden switching her allegiance from Tibet to Tang after the latter’s military victory appears in the Song Maoting kehua.20 Based on the absence of her name and iconography in other sources, Fude Longnü appears to be a local dragon maiden who was “converted” to Buddhism by being identified with Śrī (and possibly other female dharma guardians). This pattern appears elsewhere in very similar ways. In Indonesia, Śrī devī became “Dewi Śrī,” a goddess of rice cultivation that could turn herself into a snake.21 In Japan, the goddess Tenkawa Benzaiten (a local form of the Indian goddess Sarasvatī) appears with three serpent heads, is identified with the nāga girl of the Lotus Sūtra, and has as her attendants the goddesses Hārītī (an Indian fertility goddess) and Śrī Lakṣmī.22 Tenkawa Benzaiten is further associated with Hārītī’s fertility and Śrī Lakṣmī’s wealth through the children and jewels that accompany her images.23 Though I have found no direct connection between Fude Longnü and Tenkawa Benzaiten, their nearly identical iconography and connections to the same deities strongly suggest a common background.

62

HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI ST E R

F U D E L O N G N Ü A N D M A HĀ KĀ L A : C I V I L I Z E D F E M I N I N I T Y VS . BA R BA R IC M A S C U L I N I T Y

The theory that Fude Longnü was a local dragon deity was first proposed by ­Alexander Soper, who surmised that she was the spirit of Dian Lake in the Kunming region.24 He based this theory on Fude Longnü’s pairing with Mahākāla in the Fanxiang juan and a passage in the thirteenth-century Ji gu Dian shuo ji, according to which the Nanzhao ruler Shengluopi (r. 713–728) commissioned a Mahākāla statue to protect the newly built Dian city wall.25 Soper concluded that if Mahākāla was the patron of Dian, Fude Longnü must have also been worshipped there. Her nāgī appearance and aquatic surroundings led him to see her as the goddess of the lake. This theory depends on Mahākāla having a special connection to Dian, but Nanzhao- or Dali-era Mahākāla images from the Dali region outnumber those from Kunming. In addition, no sources point to Fude Longnü or Baijie worship in the Kunming region; all of her texts and images come from Dali. I would amend Soper’s theory to propose that Fude Longnü was a local dragon goddess from the Dali region instead. Even if the sources do not support Soper’s identification of Fude Longnü as the goddess of Dian Lake, his attention to the importance of the Mahākāla– Fude Longnü relationship is insightful considering his lack of access to Dali kingdom texts that reinforce their pairing. Fude Longnü’s connection to Mahākāla is one of the most stable parts of her identity in Dali kingdom Buddhism, which means that understanding Mahākāla worship in the Dali kingdom is necessary for understanding Fude Longnü. Whereas Fude Longnü appears to be a local or regional figure, Mahākāla is known throughout the Buddhist world. He arose in the Śaiva tradition as a wrathful martial deity and was sometimes depicted as a flesh-eating demon who lived in charnel grounds. Mahākāla was “converted” to Buddhism but retained his dark origins in his name and iconography. He took on some of the characteristics of the wealth deities Jambhala and Kubera in Central Asia, which led to his eventual appearance as a jolly wealth god in Japan.26 Though popular in Tibet and Japan, Mahākāla was a minor figure in the Tang and Song dynasties, though he was in fact worshipped in some regions: Yijing (635–713) wrote that Mahākāla was “still unknown north of the Huai [River], but was enshrined in several places in Jiangnan.” 27 The same ­thirteenth-century text that Soper cites for evidence that Mahākāla was the t­utelary deity of Dian also claims that a sculptor from Shu (modern-day ­Sichuan) created the Nanzhao-era Mahākāla image, but I have found no images



HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI S T E R 

63

or references to images of Mahākāla from the Tang through Song periods in general, including in Shu.28 The many images of Mahākāla from the Dali kingdom demonstrate his importance to rulers there. In addition to the frames devoted to the god in the Fanxiang juan, seven other Mahākāla images from this period (or the Nanzhao kingdom) survive. These images draw on the same iconographic tradition: each has four or six arms and holds the same implements as the Mahākāla figure in the Fanxiang juan.29 Lee Yü-min has argued convincingly that the NanzhaoDali Mahākāla images are more similar to Mahākāla images from India than to images from Tibet or Tang-Song China.30 This argument does not conclusively determine how Mahākāla iconography entered Dali—people could have brought Indian Mahākāla statues to the region from Tang-Song China or Southeast Asia—but it suggests that Dali artists represented Mahākāla in Indian form. Mahākāla’s wrathful appearance in Dali kingdom Buddhism signifies his Indian identity and his masculinity. Buddhist guardian deities tend to embody a ferocious, martial form of masculinity represented by bulging muscles, glaring eyes, bared teeth, and an array of weapons. In China, this iconography (especially the relative lack of clothing) marked them as barbarians, who were likewise associated with exaggerated masculine violence.31 For Dali kingdom rulers to worship Mahākāla as a tutelary deity suggests a desire to appropriate Mahākāla’s fierce, Indian masculinity, which could have helped them position themselves as ferocious and masculine in relation to the Song dynasty. Though rulers of other polities (including Chinese regimes) also worshipped wrathful, male deities as tutelary figures, again it was the Dali kingdom’s position in relation to the Song dynasty that added another semiotic layer to their Mahākāla cult. The images of Mahākāla and Fude Longnü in the Fanxiang juan thus depict a gendered complementarity that contrasts the fierce, barbaric male with the elegant, civilized female. Fude Longnü’s full-coverage dress and gentle countenance throw Mahākāla’s exposure and wrathful mien into relief. At the same time, some iconographic elements tie them together. In addition to the shared background and their slight inclination toward each other, Fude Longnü and Mahākāla have serpent imagery in common. Fude Longnü’s Indian characteristics, including her darker skin, also provide a point of continuity with Mahākāla’s overall “barbarian” appearance. The different degrees of Fude Longnü’s and Mahākāla’s Indian appearance can be read in connection to their gendered symbolism. Dali rulers align

64

HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI ST E R

themselves with Mahākāla’s barbaric masculinity in a way that conforms to representations of non-Chinese martiality within Chinese discourse. However, this is not the case with Fude Longnü, who does not conform to Chinese images of barbarian femininity and in fact (based on the Nanzhao tuzhuan reference to dragon maidens) might signify aspects of Chinese civilization. Stereo­types of barbarian hypermasculinity lend themselves to strategic essentialism more than stereotypes of sexual incontinence among barbarian women.32 Fude Longnü allows Dali rulers to strike a balance between a Chinese and a local image in their politico-religious representation. From the image of Fude Longnü in the Fanxiang juan, we can locate her in the center of a constellation that links her to female Buddhist dharma guardians associated with feminine abundance but not maternal fecundity. Fude Longnü is a maiden, not a mother, and even her pairing with Mahākāla appears chaste. She encompasses Indian and Chinese characteristics, as well as local and translocal forces, making her a hybrid figure.33 It appears most likely that she was a local dragon goddess that became identified with the Buddhist figures Śrī and nāgīs and paired with Mahākāla. Textual sources that feature Baijie Shengfei corroborate many parts of this constellation as well as adding new connections.

Baijie Shengfei in Rituals of Unrestricted Offerings

Fude Longnü and Mahākāla appear again as a pair in the Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi (Dharma assembly ritual of unrestricted light and food), and Mahākāla appears with Baijie Shengfei in the Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi (Bodhimaṇḍa ritual of unrestricted, widespread offerings).34 These two food-distribution ritual texts are similar to the Fanxiang juan in how they present Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla, which is to say as a pair and as two figures in a larger group of deities. They differ from the Fanxiang juan in their medium, which allows for different kinds of intertextual readings of their genres and contents. In addition, they constellate Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla with a different group of deities than in the Fanxiang juan. Both the Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi and Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi (along with the Dahei tianshen daochang yi) were found at the Dong family temple Fazang si in 1956.35 The scriptures of Fazang si were subject to historical vicissitudes in ways scriptures sealed in pagodas were not, which presents challenges for dating its manuscripts: the Fazang si corpus contains texts from the Yuan and Ming, while some of its Dali-era scriptures were probably lost over time.36



HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI S T E R 

65

The Dong family held the position of national preceptor (guoshi) throughout the duration of the Dali kingdom, so the Dali-era texts found at Fazang si were probably used in Dali court Buddhism.37 The surviving copy of the Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi is a partial manuscript from 1402, but Hou Chong believes that it comes from the Dali kingdom because of a line that mentions “the donor of the Dali kingdom in Jambudvīpa.”38 The Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi is also a partial manuscript but does not contain a date. It appears along with the Dahei tianshen daochang yi on the reverse of a manuscript containing Zongmi’s Yuanjue jing shu (Commentary on the Scripture of Perfect Awakening). Several factors support a Dali kingdom date for the Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi and Dahei tianshen daochang yi: their paper matches that used in the Song; the Commentary on the Scripture of Perfect Awakening was copied on the back of the two ritual texts, so the latter were earlier; and the Dahei tianshen daochang yi’s descriptions of multiple figures perfectly match their images in the twelfth-century Fanxiang juan.39 Based on this, and in the absence of counterevidence, I treat the Fazang si ritual manuals that mention Baijie Shengfei as Dali kingdom texts. “A L L SP I R I T S O F WAT E R A N D L A N D” : T H E G E N R E O F U N R E S T R IC T E D O F F E R I N G S I N DA L I K I N G D OM BU D D H I SM

As the full titles of Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi and Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi indicate, these texts present rituals for making unlimited offerings, especially of food, throughout the cosmos. The practice of making unlimited offerings is said to have originated with the legendary quinquennial “unrestricted assemblies” of the Indian Buddhist king Aśoka, in which he donated vast riches to the saṃgha in the guise of ransoming himself.40 The specific practice of offering food arose in Tang dynasty China based on a scripture in which Ānanda uses a dhāraṇī to extend a single offering of food to countless hungry ghosts, brahmins, and other creatures.41 Such food-distribution (shishi) rituals were performed mainly in funerary contexts for the benefit of the deceased but could also be peformed on behalf of the living, as well as for the benefit of the nation.42 Tang dynasty food-distribution rituals developed in an esoteric context— the translation of the aforementioned Scripture of the Dhāraṇī for Saving the Burning Mouth Hungry Ghost is attributed to Amoghavajra—and were initially performed by esoteric masters. According to Charles Orzech, the Huichang persecution of 845 disrupted the esoteric transmission of food-distribution

66

HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI ST E R

rituals, and new esoteric food-distribution rituals only emerged in the Yuan dynasty (1279–1368).43 The Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi fits an esoteric model in some ways: it frequently uses the term “esoteric,” mi or mimi, to refer to its teachings; it focuses on Vairocana as the main object of veneration, or benzun; and it begins by inviting the gods of the three divisions of the Womb Realm (garbhadhātu).44 One section, titled “Pinnacle of the Esoteric Lineage” (mizong jiujing), describes the “octagonal wheel altar,” also called a “yoga altar,” with the benzun in the center surrounded by the esoteric maṇḍala (zhongwei).45 Each section ends with the instruction to empower (Chn. jiachi; Skt. adhiṣṭhāna) the offerings with a mantra, though the mantras themselves are not given.46 However, the Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi differs from Tang and Yuan esoteric food-distribution rituals in several ways. It lacks the mudrās and visualizations (with one exception) that appear in other esoteric food-­distribution ritual texts. Its structure is similar only in the sense that it contains standard ritual elements such as inviting the deities, making offerings, making vows, repenting, and dismissing the deities. It does not include elements such as the names of the thirty-five buddhas, identification with Guanyin, or recitation of the mantras of the seven tathāgatas.47 Though it includes a section on opening the throats of hungry ghosts, which comes from Tang esoteric food-distribution rituals, hungry ghosts are not its primary focus. The Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi might not fit neatly into the model of esoteric food-distribution rituals, but both it and the Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi could be considered “dharma assemblies of water and land” (shuilu fahui ), rites that arose in the Song dynasty after esoteric food-distribution rituals had declined.48 Shuilu rites invoke the power of the holy (Chn. sheng; Skt. ārya) beings on the Buddhist path to save all unenlightened, “common” (Chn. fan; Skt. pṛthagjana) beings. The shuilu pantheon originally consisted of sixteen classes of beings, eight holy and eight common, that were based on Buddhist cosmology.49 However, regional variations sprang up and threatened the unity of this vision. Su Shi (1037–1101) railed against the expansion of the shuilu pantheon in his Preface to the Eulogy for the Dharma Images of Water and Land.50 Daniel Stevenson has noted that despite the unity attributed to the shuilu ritual in textual sources, there was a high degree of diversity among its local forms.51 Sichuan was one of the centers of shuilu development during the Song, so it is likely that shuilu ritual entered the Dali kingdom from the north.52 The genres of the Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi and Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi point to Song China, which is supported by the language of the texts. The



HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI S T E R 

67

Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi uses matched couplets and literary language, as well as Chinese allusions: it refers to the “yellow flowers and emerald bamboo” (huanghua cuizhu) used as examples of the omnipresence of the dharmakāya and prajñā in the Song Jingde-Era Record of Transmission of the Lamp (Jingde chuandeng lu); mentions the “clouds of Chu and Han” and the “brocade of the Shu River”; and includes the vow that all beings will recognize their “original face” (benlai mianmu), a term that appears in the Platform Sūtra.53 The Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi uses less literary language but refers to many deities from China. However, the pantheons of both texts suggest that they did not enter Dali from Song China but were written in Dali based on Chinese models. G O D S O F T H E T E N D I R E C T IO N S : BA I J I E SH E N G F E I A N D M A HĀ KĀ L A I N F O O D - D I ST R I BU T IO N R I T UA L S

One of the characteristics that distinguishes the Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi and Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi from other food-distribution and shuilu texts is their inclusion of Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla in the list of deities summoned to the ritual area. Examining the placement of this pair in these texts, as well as the new name Baijie Shengfei, sheds more light on their constellated identities in Dali kingdom Buddhism. The beginning of the Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi has not survived, but the extant manuscript starts with this invocation: We single-mindedly and reverently invite the gods of the ten directions; the eight great dragon kings and their retinues; yakṣas and rākṣasas; Vināyaka; the deity Big Black; the Dragon Maiden of Good Fortune; the deity Mother of Demons; Celestial Fire, Celestial Water, and other celestial deities; the Celestial [ ] and Celestial Storehouse; General and Earl of the River; Deep Sands and Floating Hill; innumerable demon soldiers; [gods of the] Five Marchmounts and Four Rivers; and all other spirits. We vow that by the buddhas’ divine power you will receive [these] lamps and food. Let us reverently pay obeisance to the eternally abiding Three Jewels!54

The “deity Big Black” is Mahākāla (Dahei tianshen), the “Dragon Maiden of Good Fortune” is Fude Longnü, and the “Mother of Demons” (Guizimu) is the goddess Hārītī. Their group of “celestials” (Chn. tian; Skt. deva) is followed by other beings from the six paths such as humans, asuras, hungry ghosts, and hell dwellers.

68

HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI ST E R

This group of deities reappears later in the text in a section on “making the vow” ( fayuan): I pray that the innumerable buddhas of the ten directions, all bodhisattvas, arhats, monks, Indras, Brahmās, and all the devas will bear witness and offer protection. May the deities invited by the disciple—the sun, moon, and five planets; twenty-eight asterisms; eight great dragon kings; great gods of the ten directions; yakṣas and rākṣasas; the four kinds of beings on the six paths; gods of the darkness; tiny souled creatures; the Mother of Demons et al.; Vināyaka; the deity Big Black; the Divine Mother of Good Fortune; fetus-eating demons; diseasespreading demon kings; Deep Sands and Floating Hill; innumerable demon soldiers; [the gods of the] Five Marchmounts and Four Rivers; and all spirits of water and land [shuilu]—be completely illuminated by the lamps’ radiance and give rise to compassion.55

Here the figure called Fude Shenmu—Divine Mother of Good Fortune—is clearly meant to be the same figure as Fude Longnü, as their names are similar and both appear in a list with Vināyaka, Mother of Demons/Hārītī, and Mahākāla. The Guangshi wuzhe daocheng yi uses the name Baijie Shengfei instead of Fude Longnü but also groups her with Mahākāla (Mohejialuo Dahei tian) and Hārītī (Helidi). The section in which they appear mirrors the same section in the Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi: it invites all the beings in the cosmos to partake in the “unrestricted, widespread offerings” of food and give rise to the thought of enlightenment: Holy Gods of Various Realms and Paths Pervading the heavens, earth, and seas are gods of countries as numerous as the sands of the Ganges; throughout [the paths of] animals, demons, and people are realms and paths of unlimited darkness. Sentient beings, both friend and foe, extend to the void above and exhaust the waters below. From afar we hear their response, and in the distance we see their arrival. Bow down and gaze up at the deities of the ten directions; the great dragons and minor dragons of the eight seas; World-Ruler King Brahmā and the god Indra; asuras and others of the eight classes of beings, humans and nonhumans; Mahākāla the god Big Black; Holy Consort White Sister [and] Hārītī.56

The list continues with a long sequence of astral and nature gods, gods of the underworld, and denizens of the lower realms. This section ends with the prayer that all four kinds of beings on the six paths partake in the unre-



HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI S T E R 

69

stricted offering of food and attain liberation through the power of the practitioner’s vow. In addition to these sections that pair Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla, there is one part of the Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi that presents Mahākāla among other deities: “With a sincere heart we gaze up and invite to the esoteric assembly those who pervade the dharma realm: dharma nature Vairo[cana] Buddha, dharma king Śākya[muni] Buddha, Śakra Devānām-Indra, the god Mahākāla, and the class of the two provisional vehicles.”57 In this hierarchical list Mahākāla occupies a place near the bottom, but this conforms to his identity as a dharma guardian. His inclusion in this group attests to his importance in Dali kingdom Buddhism, and we will see further connections between Mahākāla and Vairocana in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi. Starting with the broadest level of categorization, Fude Longnü/Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla belong to the “common” class of beings who will receive the benefits of the ritual; they are not the holy beings, such as ­bodhisattvas and buddhas, whose power makes the ritual possible. They also appear among other Buddhist dharma guardians, such as dragon kings, Indra, and Brahmā, that were depicted in the Fanxiang juan. However, the Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi and Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi additionally include in this group several Chinese deities, such as the “Earl of the River” Hebo, the gods of the Five Marchmounts and Four Rivers, and Deep Sands and Floating Hill.58 Though these deities appear more frequently in the Daoist corpus, by the eighth century they had entered indigenous Chinese Buddhist texts.59 They were incorporated into the Buddhist fold just as Mahākāla and Śrī Lakṣmī were “converted” in India, and similarly served as guardians of the dharma. Their presence in Dali kingdom food-distribution texts is not in itself unusual—these deities frequently appear in Chinese shuilu texts as well—but it reaffirms the overall Chinese foundation for the Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi and Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi, as well as the classification of Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla as “common” beings invoked to protect the dharma. Beyond their inclusion in the general category of dharma guardians and “common” gods, Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla are joined by a third figure in both the Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi and Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi: the goddess Hārītī. The Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi even appears to conflate Baijie Shengfei and Hārītī, an identification that survived in Dali long past the Dali kingdom. A 1424 stele inscription from the east side of Er Lake notes that Duan Xinju Yi (d. 1332), governor of Dali under the Yuan, built a temple to honor the

70

HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI ST E R

four spirits of Jinbang shan: the four devarājas, Mahākāla (as Dahei tianshen), Baijie Shengfei Mother Hārītī, and the goddess of the Bodhi Tree.60 Several temples in Dali today still refer to Baijie as “Baijie Shengfei Mother Hārītī,” even when her Buddhist identity is unknown. Several Buddhist texts constellate Hārītī with Mahākāla and Śrī Lakṣmī, and she shares their background as an Indian deity that was brought into Buddhism to protect the dharma. According to Hārītī’s legend, she and her many demon sons survived by eating children, before the Buddha converted her and turned her into a child-granting figure.61 Henceforth Hārītī has been known mainly as a fertility goddess and appears surrounded by children in frame 114 of the Fanxiang juan. Various Buddhist texts connect Śrī Lakṣmī and Hārītī by including them in the same category of dharma guardians, while some go further in identifying Śrī Lakṣmī as Hārītī’s daughter or even claiming they are the same figure.62 They both embody feminine abundance, though Hārītī signifies maternal fertility in a way that Śrī Lakṣmī does not. Hārītī also appeared together with Mahākāla in Buddhist texts and Indian Buddhist temples: Yijing noted that both figures were installed in the kitchens of Indian monasteries; various esoteric texts mention rites related to both Hārītī and Mahākāla; and Japanese ritual manuals identify Hārītī as Mahākāla’s wife, though Iyanaga Nobumi sees this as a simplification of the deities’ complex relationship.63 Their shared connection to the kitchen explains their presence in food-distribution rituals, but while Hārītī regularly appears in Chinese shuilu texts, Mahākāla is replaced by Āṭavaka, the god of the wasteland.64 I have found no other shuilu ritual texts that include Mahākāla in their pantheon, which supports the theory that the Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi and Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi are Dali kingdom creations. The inclusion of Fude Longnü and Baijie Shengfei in the Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi and Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi also suggests that these texts were products of Dali kingdom Buddhism. These texts reinforce several aspects of Fude Longnü’s identity seen in the Fanxiang juan, such as her pairing with Mahākāla and classification as a dharma guardian, but they add new dimensions, including the name Baijie Shengfei that appears in the Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi. Like the name Fude Longnü, “Baijie Shengfei” is gendered and can be broken down into its two parts, “Baijie” (White Sister) and “Shengfei” (Holy Consort). Despite the seemingly generic nature of the name Baijie, I have not found it elsewhere. There is a possible connection with Śrī Lakṣmī’s title “White



HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI S T E R 

71

Color” (baise), especially in light of the connection between Fude Longnü and Śrī Lakṣmī, but this epithet of Śrī Lakṣmī’s was not widely used.65 Another possibility is that the name Baijie is somehow connected to the term Bai that came to be used as an ethnonym for the indigenous population of Dali, but extant sources from the Dali kingdom do not provide enough information to support this. Jie, “elder sister,” marks her as feminine in a way that excludes the roles of child and mother but otherwise appears to be a generic title. Baijie’s title “Holy Consort” (shengfei) does appear elsewhere: a 1230 inscription from Fujian shows that the Song emperor granted the title shengfei to the goddess Mazu to reward her efficacy.66 Sheng means “noble” or “holy” and can translate the Sanskrit ārya, while fei denotes different kinds of elite femininity: it can refer to the emperor’s consort or the wife of a prince, in which case it is usually translated as “consort”; or it can refer to a goddess, such as Fufei, goddess of the Luo River.67 The former meaning subordinates the fei to a male partner, while the latter does not (Mazu, for example, is not attached to a male partner), though the character’s polysemy allows the meanings to bleed into each other. The similar term mingfei, “brilliant queen” (Skt. vidyā-rājñī), is used for the female partners of male deities in esoteric Buddhism, but this term appears separately in the Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi as well, indicating that it is not equivalent to shengfei.68 The title Baijie Shengfei thus operates on multiple levels: it reflects her status as a goddess, identifies her as a nonmaternal female figure, suggests her relationship to the more prominent male god Mahākāla, and shows that the Dali rulers adopted the Song practice of enfeoffing gods with imperial titles in at least one case. The Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi and Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi support the image of Dali kingdom Buddhism as a regional tradition based largely on TangSong models. Daniel Stevenson has pointed out that rulers used shuilu ritual for national protection based on the Aśokan precedent, and the Dali rulers might have used the Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi and/or Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi to this end.69 These texts’ inclusion in the cache at Fazang si further supports their royal provenance, as does the overlap of the Fude Longnü–Mahākāla pair in the imperially sponsored Fanxiang juan. With the exception of the reference to a donor of the Dali kingdom in the Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi, Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla are the only parts of these texts that mark them as regional creations. The Fanxiang juan also included several distinctive figures that have special connections to the Dali kingdom. For the Dali court, such figures distinguished their regime’s Buddhist tradition and offered it special protection.

72

HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI ST E R

As signifiers of politico-religious difference, Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla are gendered. The Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi and Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi do not foreground their gendered symbolism, but they reinforce the hierarchical male-female pairing of the gods and add new dimensions to Baijie Shengfei’s identities. The Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi, in presenting Mahākāla independently of Baijie Shengfei in one section, fits the pattern in which Mahākāla can appear without Baijie Shengfei (as is the case in most of his Dali kingdom images) but not vice versa. The distinctive image of Dali kingdom Buddhism is thus one that privileges masculinity. Baijie Shengfei, as the feminine side of politico-religious difference, continues to signify prosperity and abundance. Her connection to Hārītī adds a dimension of maternal fertility to her identities, but her names still present her more as a maiden. She is not an esoteric mingfei, whose identity implies sexual union with a male deity, but a shengfei, whose pairing with the masculine Mahākāla so far appears chaste. The Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi and Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi include Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla as symbols of politico-religious difference from Chinese shuilu traditions, but the gendered depictions of these deities do not emphasize difference from gender norms found in Chinese discourse. Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla signify a safe distance that does not diverge too far from Chinese standards of high culture and civilization.

Mahāśriye and Maitreya: Baijie Shengfei in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi

The Dahei tianshen daochang yi offers the most comprehensive depiction of Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla in the Dali kingdom. Its descriptions of several figures conform to their images in the Fanxiang juan, and the Dahei tianshen daochang yi confirms connections between Fude Longnü/Baijie Shengfei and other goddesses that other sources merely suggest. The Dahei tianshen daochang yi differs from the previously considered sources in its main focus on Mahākāla and Baijie Shengfei, as well as its genre. As with the Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi and Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi, the beginning of the Dahei tianshen daochang yi is missing. The extant manuscript opens with a passage praising the accomplishments of pratyekabuddhas and arhats, continues with sections on seven forms of Mahākāla and one section on Baijie Shengfei, and ends with descriptions of the surrounding maṇḍala of twenty-eight deities and the benevolent gods of the ten directions. In genre the Dahei tianshen daochang yi resembles esoteric sādhana



HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI S T E R 

73

texts in which the practitioner visualizes and identifies with the deity to attain siddhi, the fulfillment of a goal (Chn. chengjiu). Sādhana texts relate gods’ iconographic features to Buddhist doctrine, which is also true of the Dahei tianshen daochang yi. Most sections begin, “The ritual of [the god’s name] will be performed,” and end, “Perform empowerment with the mantra of [the god’s name].” Like the Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi, it just gives the outline of the ritual and does not provide the mantras or other ritual instructions. Unlike the food-distribution ritual texts, whose genre pointed to Tang-Song China, the sādhana genre of the Dahei tianshen daochang yi does not in itself align the text with a particular regional tradition. However, the text’s language does point in a certain direction. Despite the Dahei tianshen daochang yi’s resemblance to sādhana manuals, it includes little esoteric terminology. Instead, we find Huayan terms such as “lotus storehouse” (huazang), “perfumed seas” (xiangshui hai), and “Vairo[cana]’s ocean seal samādhi” (Pilu haiyin sanmo) throughout the text. It is perhaps not a coincidence that the Yuanjue jing shu, a text associated with Huayan (and Chan), was copied on the back of the Dahei tianshen daochang yi. The buddha Vairocana serves as a point of contact between Huayan and the esoteric tradition, and between the Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi and Dahei tianshen daochang yi: the former centers on Vairocana as its central deity, while the latter presents the seven forms of Mahākāla as emanations of Vairocana. The Liao (915–1125) monk Daozhen (fl. late tenth century) wrote a doctrinal synthesis of Huayan and esoteric Buddhism, which indicates that the combination of these two traditions in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi fit into contemporaneous trends in Sinitic Buddhism.70 The Dahei tianshen daochang yi also resembles the Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi in its use of matched couplets and distinctively Chinese terms, including references to yinyang, the Chinese moon goddess Changheng and her “Toad Palace” (i.e., the moon), the Daoist “cinnabar in nine cycles” (jiuzhuan dan), and the phrase “the six kinds of domesticated animals multiply and the five grains are abundant” (liuchu fanyan wugu fengdeng). It uses Siddham script for two terms, including one of Baijie Shengfei’s names, but this does not distinguish it from other Sinitic Buddhist texts. These factors suggest that the Dahei tianshen daochang yi did not enter Dali from India, Tibet, or Central Asia but was probably written in the Dali kingdom based primarily on Chinese sources.

74

HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI ST E R

S ĀG A R A’ S DAU G H T E R , M A I T R EYA , M A HĀ ŚR I Y E : BA I J I E SH E N G F E I’ S M A N Y NA M E S

The Dahei tianshen daochang yi gives the fullest description of Baijie Shengfei or Fude Longnü of any Dali kingdom source, yet it does not identify her as one specific figure. This section of the text follows the seventh form of Mahākāla and precedes the section of the twenty-eight attendants of the maṇḍala: Praise to the Holy Consort White Sister Offering the bright pearl, experiencing the fruits of buddhahood, is none other than the true immortal, the daughter of Sāgara.71 Assisting the Fierce Sage [Nāgārjuna], assisting the Dragon Flower, is in fact the Divine Mother, the empress incarnation of Maitreya.72 Greatly Auspicious White Sister of the Flower Garland has the dignified bearing of a phoenix. Called [Mahāśriye] in Sanskrit, she is as chaste and pure as ice and frost.73 The pneumas of yin and yang are two, but heaven and earth are as one. Her head is crowned by three dragons and her body has two arms. The dragons are divided into central and supporting, and the realms are subsumed under desire, form, and nonform. Her left hand is placed on her heart, pointing to the principle that the deluded heart illuminates the awakened heart.74 Her right hand rubs the youth’s crown, opening the gate of the physical [crown] shining on the crown of emptiness.75 She sometimes ascends to the Toad Palace [i.e., moon] in the clouds, joins with Changheng, and realizes the fruits of the Five Powers.76 She occasionally assembles in the Great Oceanic Storehouse, riding the waves, and becomes the worthy of the Three Assemblies.77 Her hidden virtue shines, as the light from between her eyebrows permeates heaven and earth; her dignified bearing is immaculate, with a jeweled canopy covering her dragon topknot and dragon crown. She is attended by divine youths and followed by palace ladies. Those who adopt [preaching according to] category will all be reborn in the inner courtyard; those who understand form and emptiness will all gather in the maṇḍala.78 Great Holy Consort of the awesome Kāla, her esteemed name is White Sister Auspicious and Subtle.79 At the Dragon Flower Assembly she rises to the position of nonaction;80 on the Esoteric Altar she possesses the majesty of form. She once offered the bright pearl and inscribed the thought of buddhahood; she has reaped the fruits of the Way and improved her spiritual capacity.81 Demure celestial maidens follow; the glorious holy circle gathers like clouds. Perform the empowerment of the Holy Consort.82



HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI S T E R 

75

This passage identifies Baijie Shengfei with several figures, but one of its most striking features is that its description of Baijie Shengfei corresponds exactly to the image of Fude Longnü in the Fanxiang juan. This supports the identification of Baijie Shengfei and Fude Longnü, but the name Fude Longnü also appears in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi among the twenty-eight gods of the inner maṇḍala: “The Dragon Maiden of Good Fortune is yellowish-white in color and looks like a bodhisattva. She holds a ma[ṇi jewel].”83 Hou Chong thinks that ­Baijie Shengfei and Fude Longnü are both dragon maiden consorts of Mahākāla and that Baijie Shengfei appears when the pair are the primary deities, while Fude Longnü appears when they are secondary figures.84 This theory does not account for the Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi, in which the name listed as a minor figure invited to the ritual is Baijie Shengfei. I think it is more likely that Baijie Shengfei and Fude Longnü were two names for the same deity, and the appearance of Fude Longnü in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi represents an attempt to incorporate Baijie Shengfei’s other title into the ritual text. Buddhist deities (such as Śrī Lakṣmī) frequently have more than one title, so this would not be unusual. The matching of the description of Baijie Shengfei with the iconography of Fude Longnü in the Fanxiang juan also supports the theory that the Dahei tianshen daochang yi (and by extension the Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi) dates to the Dali kingdom. A 1461 inscription about Baijie Shengfei from Jianchuan provides additional evidence: This deity’s Indian countenance exists only in the southern territory, and is not seen in scriptures or records. Therefore the details of the title “Baijie” have not been investigated, and as yet there can be no strong explanation of it. Only in the brahman esoteric speech passed down by the divine monk Magadha from the Western Regions is there an outline [of Baijie Shengfei’s identity].85

Magadha was another name for the Indian monk Candragupta, said to have brought Buddhism to Dali during the Nanzhao kingdom, but the florescence of Candragupta legends in the Ming makes this claim suspect. More convincing is the writer’s ignorance of Baijie Shengfei’s identity, which shows that by the midfifteenth century Baijie Shengfei’s Buddhist identity was fading and suggests that her worship began under the Nanzhao or Dali kingdom. This inscription’s observation that Baijie Shengfei is “not seen in scriptures or records” also confirms her regional nature by noting her absence in wellknown sources. The Dahei tianshen daochang yi identifies her with various Buddhist figures in a way that further suggests she was a regional figure that

76

HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI ST E R

was “converted” to Buddhism. The resulting constellation reinforces several aspects of her identities seen in other Dali kingdom sources and adds other dimensions. Baijie Shengfei’s links to Śrī Lakṣmī and the nāgī daughter of the dragon king Sāgara are familiar, while her role as Maitreya and connection to the moon goddess Changheng are new. Whereas the name Fude Longnü (and possibly Baijie Shengfei) only alludes to the goddess Śrī Lakṣmī, the Dahei tianshen daochang yi makes this identification clearly. Śrī Lakṣmī’s name “Greatly Auspicious” is given as part of Baijie Shengfei’s titles “Greatly Auspicious White Sister of the Flower Garland” (Huayan Dajixiang Baijie) and “White Sister Auspicious and Subtle” (­Baijie Jixiang Wei) and is rendered in Siddham script as Mahāśriye. The multiple references to this name, along with the meaning of Fude Longnü, show that Śrī Lakṣmī is the goddess with which Baijie Shengfei correlates most closely. The other kind of figure that recurs in Baijie Shengfei’s iconography and general portrayal is the dragon maiden, so it is unsurprising that the Dahei tianshen daochang yi identifies Baijie Shengfei as the nāga girl from the Lotus Sūtra. Based on the lack of connections between Śrī and Sāgara’s daughter, it still appears as though Baijie Shengfei was a local dragon goddess who became identified with Śrī Lakṣmī and the Buddhist nāgī figure along the lines of Dewi Śrī and Tenkawa Benzaiten. Śrī Lakṣmī and the nāgī share the role of dharma guardians in Buddhism, and both signify abundance, especially wealth. However, Baijie Shengfei’s identification with the nāgī of the Lotus Sūtra also presents her as an awakened being who has “experienced the fruits of buddhahood” and “inscribed the thought of buddhahood” in her mind. The associations with buddhahood and dragon imagery appear in Baijie Shengfei’s identification as a female incarnation of the future buddha, Maitreya, who will “serve as the worthy of the Three Assemblies” under the Dragon Flower tree. The idea of a female Maitreya did exist in sixth- to eighth-century China but did not have a widespread following. A text titled Mile wei nüshen jing (Scripture on Maitreya having a female body) is listed in scriptural catalogues starting with the ca. 515 Chu sanzang jiji but is no longer extant.86 Aside from this, the only reference to a female form of Maitreya that I know of is the claim that the female emperor Wu was an incarnation of the future buddha.87 A giant statue of Maitreya in female form in Cave 96 at Dunhuang was sponsored by the Yin family as a gesture of support for the female emperor, which shows the geographical reach of this identification.88 Eugene Wang argues that the



HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI S T E R 

77

inclusion of the nāga girl’s attainment of buddhahood in a late seventh-century Lotus Sūtra tableau in Cave 331 at Dunhuang was also meant to bolster the female emperor Wu’s authority by promoting the notion that women could become buddhas.89 It is unclear whether women’s ability to attain buddhahood was at issue in the Dali kingdom, but the Dahei tianshen daochang yi’s depiction of Baijie Shengfei as a female buddha has a different meaning than the same text’s depiction of Mahākāla as a manifestation of the buddha Vairocana. Though the Dahei tianshen daochang yi elevates both Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla from the rank of dharma guardian to that of buddha, the masculine gendering of buddhahood makes this a more radical transformation for Baijie Shengfei, one that is evoked through her identification with the gender-bending nāgī of the Lotus Sūtra. The Dahei tianshen daochang yi also connects Baijie Shengfei’s role as a female Maitreya to the Chinese moon goddess Changheng (also known as Chang’e and Heng’e), with whom she joins in realizing the Buddhist five powers (Skt. abhijñā). Changheng does not often appear in a Buddhist context, but a similar line about her appears in a funerary text for women that was part of a Buddhist record from the Yuan dynasty: “May you long accompany Heng’e as she directly returns to the Lunar Hall in the Toad Palace.”90 Changheng’s inclusion in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi connects Baijie Shengfei to yet another image of divine femininity (one associated with immortality), incorporates the Chinese moon goddess into a Buddhist framework, and highlights the text’s use of Chinese terms. In constellating Baijie Shengfei with Śrī Lakṣmī, the nāgī from the Lotus Sūtra, Maitreya, and the moon goddess, the Dahei tianshen daochang yi presents her both as a female dharma guardian associated with abundance and as a female buddha. Yet her elevation in status is relative because she still appears as a secondary figure in the text, which centers around Mahākāla’s seven forms. The passage on Baijie Shengfei explicitly identifies her as “great Holy Consort of the awesome Kāla,” but her role in the extant manuscript is limited to this passage; neither the sections on Mahākāla’s various forms nor the final sections on Mahākāla’s inner maṇḍala make any mention of her. Moreover, in her section there is only a single reference to Mahākāla. As in the Fanxiang juan they are clearly paired but have little interaction with each other: the Dahei tianshen daochang yi describes no sexual union between them of the sort we see between Mahākāla and Vajravārāhī in ritual texts written in Sinitic script from the Western Xia empire (1038–1227) or in the Mahākālatantra.91

78

HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI ST E R

Even though Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla have little interaction in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi, the text still pairs them in gendered terms, so understanding the significance of Baijie Shengfei’s gendered symbolism requires understanding Mahākāla’s gendered symbolism. As with Baijie Shengfei, Mahākāla gains many dimensions in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi, but they at first seem to complicate rather than clarify his identities. However, as with Baijie Shengfei, patterns emerge from Mahākāla’s various forms that bring into focus his distinctive worship under the Dali kingdom. “O N E B O DY W I T H SEV E N M A N I F E STAT IO N S , SEV E N F O R M S W I T H O N E E S SE N C E” : M A HĀ KĀ L A A N D M A S C U L I N I T Y

Mahākāla’s seven forms in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi present the first apparent complication, because the set is unknown in other forms of Buddhism. The only other reference to a set of “seven transformations of the god Mahākāla” appears in a fourteenth-century record from western Yunnan, which shows that the set in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi was not restricted to this text.92 However, the set does seem to have been restricted to Dali kingdom territory, as I have found no references to seven forms of Mahākāla outside of this region. Each form has his own function and iconography, but they are all described as manifestations of the ultimate reality, or true suchness: of the first, Dahei tianshen (i.e., Mahākāla deva), the text states, “Outwardly he appears as a deva in seven forms, [like] a mustard seed containing Mt. Sumeru; inwardly he is in fact the Singular Truth of Vairocana, [like] nature encompassing heaven and earth.”93 The identification of Mahākāla with Vairocana comes from Yixing’s (673–727) commentary on the Mahāvairocana sūtra, in which Mahāvairocana turns into Mahākāla to defeat the man-eating ḍākinīs.94 This is another example of the Dahei tianshen daochang yi’s esoteric-Huayan synthesis, and it supports the idea that people in the Dali kingdom looked to Tang-Song sources for Mahākāla worship even though he was not a prominent deity there. Three of Mahākāla’s other forms correspond to Indian deities that were incorporated into Buddhism. Indra Kāla, who “raises his wrath and fights in the war with the asuras,” is clearly the Indian god Indra.95 Kāla of the Sun and Moon, with his lunar and solar discs, evokes the iconography of the god Maheśvara, who like Mahākāla first appeared as a manifestation of Śiva. Mahākāla’s last form, Kāla of the Treasure Store, constellates the Indian wealth god Jambhala and the guardian of the north Vaiśravaṇa, both of whom are



HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI S T E R 

79

called “God of the Treasure Store” (Baozang shen) in Chinese. Jambhala, Mahākāla, and Vaiśravaṇa, along with the god Kubera, overlapped in India through their twin functions of governing wealth and warfare.96 This connection to wealth also ties Kāla of the Treasure Store to the Goddess of the Treasure Store (Baozang tiannü), none other than the goddess Śrī Lakṣmī.97 These forms of Mahākāla are rooted in India, but the texts in which they appear were translated or written in Sinitic script during the Tang and Song, making it difficult to determine how they entered Dali. Kāla of the Graveyard provides a clue, as only Amoghavajra’s translation of the Renwang jing refers to “the Great Black God, Mahākāla of the Graveyard.”98 We know Dali rulers were familiar with Bukong’s translation of the Renwang jing and Liangbi’s commentary (which identifies Mahākāla as a god of war and an incarnation of the god Maheśvara) from the manuscripts of these texts found at Fazang si.99 It therefore seems likely that at least some of the forms of Mahākāla in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi came from Tang-Song Buddhism. The two forms of Mahākāla that do not appear in other texts, Kāla of Joy and Kāla of the Golden Bowl, can be found next to Fude Longnü in frames 121 and 122 of the Fanxiang juan. As Hou Chong and Lee Yü-min have noted, the images of these figures match their descriptions in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi: Kāla of the Golden Bowl is a perfect match, from the number of heads, eyes, and limbs to the implements held in each hand; Kāla of Joy— called “Yakṣa of Great Joy” (Da’an yaocha shen) in the Fanxiang juan—has the right number of eyes and limbs and stands on an image of the Big Dipper, but his implements differ.100 This “Yakṣa of Great Joy” also appears independently in the 1136 copy of Zhufo pusa jingang deng qiqing yigui from Fazang si.101 The correspondence between the descriptions and images of these two Kālas, along with Baijie Shengfei and Fude Longnü, supports the theory that the Dahei tianshen daochang yi is rooted in the distinctive Buddhist tradition of the Dali kingdom.102 Mahākāla’s various forms may come largely from Tang-Song Buddhist texts, but the descriptions of his forms in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi emphasize the supernumerary body parts and wrathful expression that signify exaggerated Indian masculinity. His functions also signify masculinity: his wrathful side wreaks vengeance on demons and bandits, he controls life and death, and he offers protection. Though the text balances his ferocity with the compassionate goal of leading all beings to enlightenment, it makes clear Mahākāla’s role as the wrathful, expedient manifestation of the benign, ultimate buddha

80

HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI ST E R

Vairocana. Both of these images exemplify masculinity but in different ways: in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi Mahākāla embodies both the wrathful image of masculinity and the masculinity of buddhahood. The Dahei tianshen daochang yi illustrates Mahākāla’s centrality in Dali kingdom Buddhism and indicates that court Buddhists in the Dali kingdom used

F IG U R E 2 . 2 .   Yakṣa God of Great Joy and Kāla of the Golden Bowl, Fanxiang juan frames 121–122. Source: The Collection of the National Palace Museum



HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI S T E R 

81

Chinese sources to make their own ritual texts centered around their own tutelary deities. In this, the Dahei tianshen daochang yi resembles the only Mahākālacentric text in the Taishō canon, the Daikoku tenjin hō (Rituals for the god Mahākāla), which was probably compiled in Japan based on Chinese sources.103 Though the Dahei tianshen daochang yi primarily relied on materials from the Tang through Song, it mainly constellates Mahākāla’s various forms and Baijie Shengfei with Indian figures, thus conforming to the pattern in Dali kingdom Buddhism of representing as Indian a tradition that primarily came from China. At the same time, the gendered representation of Mahākāla and Baijie Shengfei mitigates the image of difference. Baijie Shengfei, through her constellated identities, continues to signify feminine abundance. The new point in her constellation, that of female buddhahood, would seem to elevate her position were it not for her relative subordination to Mahākāla, who embodies true suchness in seven forms, in addition to maintaining his wrathful masculinity. The two are paired but in a way that privileges Mahākāla’s position and avoids any semblance of sexual union. Their gendered identities conform to normative gender relations in Chinese discourse rather than depicting Baijie Shengfei as wrathful or martial, as equal or superior to Mahākāla, or as engaged in sexual practices. This suggests that Dali kingdom rulers used Mahākāla to present themselves as powerful embodiments of wrathful masculinity in a non-Chinese model but did not use a non-Chinese model of femininity in depicting Baijie Shengfei.

Conclusions: Baijie between India and China

The Dahei tianshen daochang yi fleshes out much of what the Fanxiang juan, Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi, and Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi showed of Fude Longnü/Baijie Shengfei such that we can—to an extent—solve the mystery of her identities. This solution is not a dramatic unmasking that reveals Baijie Shengfei to be a single known figure but rather a consistent constellation that emerges from the four sources in which she appears. In this constellation, Baijie Shengfei is always connected to Mahākāla; she is identified with female Buddhist dharma guardians of Indian origin who signify abundance and prosperity; and she is a hybrid figure that combines Indian and Chinese elements, as well as local and translocal elements. Yet this constellation also has multiple points that bespeak the instability of Baijie Shengfei’s identities. Her names, for example, suggest uncertainty about who she is, especially in the use of both titles for different figures in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi. Fude Longnü’s associations with different goddesses in different texts also reflect the ambiguity surrounding

82

HO LY C O N S O RT W H I T E SI ST E R

her and hint at attempts during the Dali kingdom to make sense of who she was. These continuities and discontinuities in Baijie Shengfei’s identities ultimately support the theory that she was a local dragon goddess who became identified primarily as Mahākāla’s consort and secondarily with female Buddhist dharma guardians of similar status to Mahākāla. Śrī Lakṣmī and Hārītī rarely appear as Mahākāla’s consort, but they do appear in the same category in many Buddhist texts, making their identification with Baijie Shengfei understandable. Baijie Shengfei’s and Mahākāla’s identities in the Dali kingdom are mysterious because they are so distinctive. Baijie Shengfei appears to be a local figure, while the Mahākāla worshipped in Dali seems to be a composite figure drawn from Indian iconography and Chinese texts. Only Acuoye Guanyin comes as close to representing the distinctive aspects of Dali kingdom Buddhism, but he does not appear in extant texts from the Dali kingdom. Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla signify the differences that distinguish Dali kingdom Buddhism from other forms of Buddhism, especially that of the Song dynasty. The ritual text dedicated to Mahākāla and the many images of him attest to his role as an important tutelary deity who protects the Dali kingdom against various threats. As the overall messages of the Nanzhao tuzhuan and Fanxiang juan show, rulers of the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms claimed Buddhist authority for their regimes and took pains to present their Buddhist tradition as coming directly from India. Dali kingdom sources on Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla belong to this tradition of court Buddhism and present a consistent image of Dali kingdom Buddhism as Indian. What the references to Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla in Dali kingdom sources additionally illustrate is how this politico-religious representation is gendered. Mahākāla primarily signifies a wrathful form of masculinity that takes advantage of Chinese stereotypes of ferocious barbarian manhood. Dali kingdom rulers could exploit this stereotype to adopt a threatening image in relation to the Song state, in which officials increasingly embraced a literary form of masculinity to distinguish themselves from the “martial barbarians” to the north.104 The stereotype of barbarian women as sexually uninhibited was less useful to the Dali court, which explains the consistent representation of Baijie Shengfei as a fully clothed lady who did not engage in sexual union with her ostensible partner Mahākāla. Baijie Shengfei may not have looked Chinese, with her darker skin and serpent features, but she did not stray far from ideals of Chinese femininity. She embodies difference from Chineseness, but a safe, comfortable difference that does not challenge normative notions of gender.

3

LITTLE WHITE SISTER Baijie Amei, Dragons, and Kingship in Ming Dali

B A I J I E S H E N G F E I retains her Buddhist identity into the Ming and Qing dynasties, but another Baijie appears in the fifteenth century in a very different role. According to two inscriptions from 1441 and 1450, Baijie Amei (Little White Sister) emerges from a huge plum that grows on the tree of a childless elderly couple. Her beauty and grace attract the Nanzhao prime minister Duan Baolong, and they marry. One day while bathing in the river she touches a piece of wood that turns out to be a dragon. She becomes pregnant from this contact and later gives birth to twin boys, Siping and Siliang. Duan Siping goes on to found the Dali kingdom and posthumously enfeoffs his mother as the “Heaven-Sent Lucky Star, Virtuous and Kind Holy Mother” (Tianying jingxing yici shengmu). Baijie Amei is enshrined and worshipped at Linghui si (Spirits Gathering Temple) in the Xizhou area of the Dali plain. This legend raises several questions about Baijie and representations of local or regional identities after the fall of the Dali kingdom, when the Dali region became part of the Yuan (1253–1382 in Dali) and Ming (1382–1644 in Dali) dynasties in succession. Why does the name Baijie reappear for Duan Siping’s mother when there is no indication in Dali kingdom sources of any connection between the regime’s founder and Baijie Shengfei? What does this legend about the miraculous birth of the Dali kingdom founder (and his mother) mean in the wake of the Mongol and Ming conquests? How does Baijie Amei’s gendered identity intersect with representations of local identity in Ming dynasty Dali? Several connections appear immediately—dragon symbolism links the two Baijies, as

84

L I T T L E W H I T E SI ST E R

does their significance for the divine legitimacy of the Dali kingdom—but the new historical context demands new interpretations. Sources from after the fall of the Dali kingdom are more abundant because more sources from later periods have survived in general, but also because officials of the Yuan, Ming, and Qing compiled records on their territory and Dali locals participated in the intellectual life of these regimes. Dali locals, Yunnan natives, and officials from elsewhere in China wrote histories of the area that were also political exercises in which they engaged the Chinese-barbarian spectrum in classifying Yunnan’s diverse population. These unofficial histories (vs. official dynastic records) are particularly valuable for how they represent local authority in relation to the Chinese state. Local and regional gazetteers, usually compiled by government officials who were stationed far from their homes, also provide valuable information about local histories as represented by nonlocals. Funerary inscriptions from the Dali area survive in greater numbers from the Ming and Qing, offering insights into lineage claims and in some cases representations of ethnicity. Most of the sources I use in this chapter come from these genres and date to the Ming dynasty. In examining Ming dynasty sources from and about Dali, I focus on how authors represent collective identities. As with materials from the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms, those from the Yuan and later cannot be assumed to represent ethnic identification specifically. Whereas politico-religious representation dominated Nanzhao and Dali kingdom sources, the lack of independent regimes in the area after the fall of the Dali kingdom entailed other forms of representation. One of the questions I address in this chapter is whether Ming sources represent Bai ethnicity, and if so, whether this representation masks other forms of collective identification that are not necessarily ethnic. Understanding the gendered dimensions of collective identification in Ming dynasty Dali through the example of Baijie Amei requires a return to the semiotic approach through which I constellated Baijie Shengfei’s identities. I read Baijie Amei’s legend for her syntagmatic and paradigmatic connections to other figures, which creates a constellation around her and expands the larger constellation surrounding the name Baijie. With Baijie Amei I focus on the interplay of local and translocal forces that tie her to Dali and link her to larger systems of signification. On a local level, the clearest link is to Baijie Shengfei. Even a basic overview of Baijie Amei’s legend shows an important difference between her gendered role and those of Baijie Shengfei: whereas Baijie Shengfei only had perfunctory maternal symbolism, Baijie Amei’s maternal role un-



L I T T L E W H I T E SI S T E R

85

derlies her importance in Dali legends. Still, both Baijie Shengfei’s and Baijie Amei’s gendered identities rely on relationships to prominent male figures. Expanding out from the Dali region, Baijie Amei can be identified with regional and transregional dragon mothers. In fact, the Baijie Amei legend appears to be modeled on the legend of Shayi, a woman impregnated by a piece of wood that turned out to be a transformed dragon. She gave birth to ten sons, one of whom grew up to become king. This story first appears in a fourth-century record that locates it in the ancient Ailao kingdom centered in Yongchang Commandery.1 Beyond Yunnan, the theme of dragons impregnating human women to produce dynastic founders or other great men appears in Chinese sources from as early as the Han dynasty (206 BCE–220 CE). A very similar tale to those of Baijie Amei and Shayi also appears in a multi-ethnic context in late imperial Hunan.2 Women’s maternal role as a conduit between dragons and great men ties the Baijie Amei legend to semiotic systems that extend beyond Dali. This chapter combines historical and semiotic approaches to examine how Baijie Amei’s gendered signification fits into the context of Ming dynasty Dali. Baijie Amei and Baijie Shengfei share certain gendered characteristics, but these characteristics carry different meanings in the Ming dynasty than they did in the Dali kingdom. Evoking the divine authority of the Dali kingdom, as both goddesses do, has a different significance during the Dali kingdom than it does two hundred years later when the area belongs to an empire centered thousands of miles away.

After the Conquest: Dali in the Yuan and Ming Dynasties BA R BA R IA N S RU L I N G BA R BA R IA N S : DA L I A N D Y U N NA N I N T H E Y UA N DY NA S T Y

By the mid-thirteenth century the Dali region had been the center of independent regimes for about five hundred years. The Mongol conquest brought the region under the control of rulers based far to the east and initiated a centuries-long migration from the central plains to Yunnan. Representations of local identity in Dali changed in response to these new political realities and demographic shifts, as we see in histories of the Dali region written after the Mongol and Ming conquests. These changes unfolded gradually, and the Yuan dynasty brought fewer disruptions to the political order in Dali than did the Ming. When Mongol troops swept through Dali in 1253, they quickly defeated local troops and brought the area into their expanding empire.3 The Dali ruler Duan Xingzhi (r. 1252–1254) fled to the eastern capital of Shanchan (modern-

86

L I T T L E W H I T E SI ST E R

day Kunming) and resisted Mongol forces until 1255, when all of Dali territory fell.4 The contrast between the relatively smooth Mongol takeover of Dali territory and the protracted conquest of the Mu’ege kingdom to the east and northeast, which finally occurred in 1282, illustrates the diversity within Zomia.5 Dali may have been a mountainous region far from the political centers of powerful states, but it was more accessible than many of its neighboring regions. In some ways, the Mongol conquest boded well for the Duan rulers of the Dali kingdom, who by that time were figureheads who had been forced to cede real power to the Gao family.6 Qubilai executed Gao Xiong and returned nominal authority to Duan Xingzhi by granting him the position of Commander (zongguan) of Dali Route (lu).7 The Yuan dynasty’s “native administration” (tusi) system allowed them to take advantage of preexisting power structures by empowering local authorities to help administer their territory. In return for Duan Xingzhi’s submission and cooperation he was also granted a “golden tally” ( jin fu) as well as the title “Mahārāja.”8 Despite the Mongol rulers’ apparent generosity toward the Duan leaders in Dali, they still imposed their own administrative structure in Yunnan, which moved power from Dali to Shanchan in 1276 and gave Mongols positions at the higher Branch Secretariat (xing zhongshu sheng) level. The Yuan also attempted to carry out civilizing projects aimed at spreading Confucian learning throughout the empire, including the requirement that each Route have an education official and a Confucian school.9 The 1288 Dali lu xingju xuexiao ji (Record of establishing schools in Dali Route) illustrates the complex intersections of ethnicity and culture under Yuan rule: in Yunnan, the Central Asian Muslim Sayyid ‘Ajall Shams al-Din and the Mongol Togto Mur established Confucian academies in order to bring “Chinese customs” to people in the “hinterlands of Yunnan.”10 Mongol rulers and their non-Chinese officials may not have used the ­Chinese-barbarian binary as much as self-identified Chinese authorities, but for elites in Dali they had still disrupted centuries of local rule. Yuan records are the first to mention “Bai people” and a “Bai kingdom,” though it would be premature to identify these terms as ethnic, given the contexts in which they appear. However, they do suggest a changing representation of local elite identity in response to the regime change. The Dali lu xingju xuexiao ji identifies “Bai people” (Bai ren) as descendants of Han people who settled in Yunnan after Emperor Wu founded Yizhou Commandery in the Han dynasty, but the term does not appear elsewhere in reliably dated Yuan records.11 The 1265 Ji gu Dian shuo ji recounts



L I T T L E W H I T E SI S T E R

87

the history of a “Bai family kingdom” (Bai shi guo) but specifies that the term “Bai” comes from the place name Baiyai, “White Cliffs.”12 The sources do not present a clearly ethnic form of representation at work in Dali during the Yuan. Even if the Ji gu Dian shuo ji’s “Bai family kingdom” cannot be understood in ethnic terms, this text emphasizes the divine forces at work in Yunnan’s history. It gives the first account of the story that three sons of the Indian Buddhist king Aśoka settled in the Dian area.13 King Aśoka was a widespread legitimizing figure throughout the Buddhist world because he lent the authority of Indian Buddhism and the cakravartin ideal to whatever regime claimed him. The Aśoka legend is immediately followed by the legend of the dragon mother Shayi. For the most part this version follows the fourth-century account, but Shayi’s youngest son is now identified as Meng Xinongle (aka Xinuluo), founder of the Nanzhao kingdom.14 The syntagmatic association of these two legends combines the authority of Indian Buddhism with the chthonic power of dragons in a way that elevates Yunnan’s history and by extension the regional identities of people who lived there. Yunnan’s proximity to India is a common theme in Yuan dynasty records about the region, and several records ascribe the popularity of Buddhism in Yunnan (and Dali specifically) to this proximity.15 The Ji gu Dian shuo ji, for example, states, “For people of this area India is not far, so their custom is to revere the law of the Buddha. Households rich and poor alike have Buddha halls, and people young and old never let go of the rosaries in their hands. In a single year, they observe a vegetarian fast and the precepts about half the time, never eating meat or drinking alcohol until the fast is over.”16 This image of Yunnan as both Buddhist and Indian finds support in the legend of King Aśoka’s sons and resonates with the politico-religious representations from the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms. For the elite classes of Dali—those who had ruled or served as high officials under the Dali kingdom—the Mongol conquest was not devastating, but it greatly disrupted the power structure. Dali rulers could no longer dictate policies or terms of official discourse but were subject to the will of outsiders. It is hardly surprising that people from Yunnan and Yuan officials would share the project of producing knowledge about an area that had few recent records. Yuan records present the region as somewhere between China and India both culturally and geographically, but for Dali there is not a clear sense of ethnic identification from either outsiders’ perspectives or the local side. This changes with the Ming conquest and the return of the Chinese-barbarian binary.

88

L I T T L E W H I T E SI ST E R

C I V I L I Z I N G P R OJ E C T S U N D E R T H E M I N G DY NA S T Y

Yuan rulers claimed the mantle “Son of Heaven,” but many of their subjects were unconvinced of the Mongols’ qualifications to rule China. One of the rallying cries of the Ming founder Zhu Yuanzhang (aka Ming Taizu) was to restore Chinese leadership throughout the empire, a project that reached the Dali region in 1382. Ming Taizu’s policies had the overall effect of politically and culturally drawing the Dali region further into the Ming empire. Initially the Ming adopted the Yuan system of “native administration” in non-Han regions, but after their power stabilized and strengthened, they instituted a system of “transforming the native and returning it to the mainstream” (gaitu guiliu) in areas such as Dali where direct rule was possible. Under this system, a given prefecture’s governor must be an outsider; this was supposed to prevent corruption and the formation of regional powers that would threaten central authority. In Dali it marked the end of centuries of local rule. Ming civilizing projects involved both policies to sinicize non-Han populations and to settle Han people in “barbarian” regions. Ming Taizu actively promoted Chinese culture in border regions and non-Han areas so that everyone could be “transformed through teaching” (jiaohua).17 Zhou Jifeng, a Jiangxi native who edited the Zhengde-era (1506–1521) Yunnan zhi (Yunnan gazetteer), credits Ming Taizu with bringing civilization, especially Confucian values, to the barbarians of Yunnan.18 Some Ming records acknowledge that Chinese customs had been known in Yunnan for centuries, but they still claim that the region was not fully sinicized until their dynasty took over.19 The demographic shift in Yunnan occurred when Ming troops stayed in the region to maintain control over it. These newcomers brought with them the practices of their home regions, which became part of Yunnan’s cultural landscape. Most of the new settlers were men, many of whom married and had children with local women, further increasing the difficulty of separating local from nonlocal identity. Dali locals’ reactions to the Ming conquest also defy easy categorization. Some local elites remained loyal to the Yuan, but most cooperated with, and sought official positions in, the new regime.20 Even those who cooperated had to confront not only the beginning of direct nonlocal rule but also the view that they themselves were uncivilized barbarians. In this environment, some elite families in the Dali plain began to represent themselves as “Bai” in a way that seems to fit into ethnic discourse. As Hou Chong has convincingly argued, claims of Bai identity appeared in accounts of local history that tied together many of the legends circulating in the Yuan, such as King Aśoka, Shayi, and the



L I T T L E W H I T E SI S T E R

89

Bai kingdom. The source of these accounts was the Bai gu tongji (Comprehensive record of Bai history).21 The Bai gu tongji was written in the late thirteenth or early fourteenth century by someone from the Yang family of Xizhou, on the west side of Er Lake.22 The text has not survived; its disappearance may be related to the fact that its author used Chinese characters to phonetically represent the local language, meaning that it would have been restricted to people who were familiar with both forms of communication.23 However, it was translated and spread to a much wider audience, and texts from the Ming and Qing dynasties quote it enough to reconstruct much of its content. Based on these quotations, the main project of the Bai gu tongji was to recount the history of divinely authorized regimes centered in Dali. This implicitly rejected the idea that Dali was subordinate to the Chinese state and dependent on Chinese culture.24 The Bai gu tongji connects the legends that the Ji gu Dian shuo ji presented separately to give an account of a continuous Bai regime that began with King Aśoka’s sons. Some of these connections are explicit, while others appear to have been implicit. The text identifies Shayi’s human husband (who turns into a dragon) as King Aśoka’s grandson, making the Nanzhao kings descendants of the Indian cakravartin, and the Bai kingdom is extended from King Aśoka to the Zhang rulers of the White Cliffs and then to the Nanzhao Meng kings.25 However, the Bai kingdom of the Bai gu tongji does not end with the Nanzhao kings. To understand how the Bai gu tongji further extended the Bai kingdom through the Dali kingdom, we must turn to the legend of Baijie Amei and the birth of Duan Siping.

Baijie Amei, Bai Kingship, and Yang Kinship BA I J I E A M E I I N F I F T E E N T H - C E N T U RY R E C O R D S

The Baijie Amei legend first appears in three sources from the fifteenth century that attribute it to the Bai gu tongji. These sources are written by and about members of the Yang family from Xizhou, the probable authors of the Bai gu tongji, suggesting that this representation of Bai history and ethnicity was initially restricted to a relatively small group. The earliest extant record of the Baijie Amei legend comes from a 1441 epitaph for a member of the Xizhou Yang family, the Gu chushi Yang gong tongqi muzhiming (Epitaph of the late retired scholar Duke Yang and his wife). It reads: The duke’s personal name was [Chinese characters missing from extant text], his surname was Yang, and his style is not known. He was from Yuanbang [village]

90

L I T T L E W H I T E SI ST E R

in Xizhou, Dali. In the past there was an elder . . . who appealed to the Three Cang [for an heir].26 Suddenly one night a girl was born from one of the fruits of his plum tree. He raised her in his home . . . [and called her] Baijie Amei. She married the chieftain of the Duan family, named Long, and gave birth to the first Duan emperor. The elder [named] Joy [Huanxi] was thus their clan ancestor.27

This account focuses on the miraculous birth of Baijie Amei, omits the miraculous conception of Duan Siping, and emphasizes the lineage linking the elder and the Duan clan. The only dragon that appears here is Duan Long, whose personal name includes the graph for dragon, long. Though this epitaph does not explicitly identify Duke Yang as a descendant of the Yuanbang elder, this relationship is implied. Baijie Amei plays the pivotal role of connecting the Yang lineage with that of the Duan rulers. A temple record from 1450 gives a more detailed account of Baijie Amei’s legend and attributes it to the Bai gu tongji (here called Bai shi, “Bai History”). The author of the Sanling miao ji (Record of Three Spirits Temple), Yang Andao, identifies the three spirits worshipped at the temple as a Tibetan chieftain, a Tang general, and the illegitimate son of the Nanzhao ruler Geluofeng, and recounts their unsuccessful attempt to overthrow the Nanzhao kingdom. After the three men die, they appear in a dream in which they show an elder of Yuanbang village how to expand water conservancy and eliminate floods; in return, he builds a temple to worship them. Geluofeng’s heir, the Nanzhao king Yimouxun, posthumously enfeoffs the three spirits as the Originary Ancestor Emperor of Double Brilliance and National Fortune, the Emperor of Sagely Virtue Who Revives the Nation, and the Numinous Emperor of Pacification and Great Blessings.28 The Baijie Amei story follows from this: In Yuanbang there was a childless elder who secretly prayed for descendants. A plum tree in his garden grew a large fruit, and when it fell to the ground a girl of uncommon appearance and disposition appeared. The elder raised her lovingly and called her Baijie Amei. The prime minister [qingpingguan] of the Meng kingdom, Duan Baolong, took her as his wife. When she was bathing in Xiayi River, a piece of wood appeared and floated into Amei’s foot, whereupon she knew it was the Originary Ancestor [Emperor of] Double Brilliance [and National Fortune] transformed into a dragon. She became pregnant by touching it. [Amei] took the piece of wood and cultivated it on the stone in the temple, then spat out two magnolias, giving birth to Siping and Sizhou.29 . . . Emperor Former King Siping established his position in the dingyou year [937] and called



L I T T L E W H I T E SI S T E R

91

his kingdom Dali. He built Spirit Gathering Temple [Linghui si] and posthumously enfeoffed his mother as the Heaven-Sent Lucky Star, Virtuous and Kind Holy Mother.30

Though the text does not explicitly identify which spirit the Originary Ancestor Emperor of Double Brilliance and National Fortune is supposed to be, it makes the most sense for Duan Siping’s “father” to be Geluofeng’s illegitimate son. This would not only give the Duan clan a divine dragon ancestor but also establish lineage ties between the Meng and Duan clans, again with Baijie Amei playing a pivotal role. The doubling of the Shayi legend in the Baijie Amei legend paradigmatically inserts the Duan family into the divine Nanzhao lineage by claiming the same kind of divine ancestry for both. Yang Andao lived near Sanling miao in the Xizhou area. Though no information about him appears in local gazetteers or histories, two other inscriptions written by him have survived. These inscriptions, epitaphs dating to 1453 and 1455, are noteworthy because he wrote both in the Bai language; the first even opens with the line “Written in Bai by the disciple Yang Andao.”31 Hou Chong’s hypothesis that the Bai gu tongji was written by a member of the Yang family in Xizhou, combined with Yang Andao’s proficiency in written Bai, makes it reasonable to conclude that Yang Andao’s account of the Baijie Amei legend is close to the original. The next account of the Baijie Amei legend appears in an anonymous 1481 funerary inscription for a “Duke Yang” and his wife “Miss Li,” called Chushi Yang gong tongshi Li shi shouzang (Epitaph of the retired scholar Duke Yang and his wife Miss Li): The duke was surnamed Yang and named Shou. According to the Bai shi [i.e., Bai gu tongji], the duke’s progenitor was an elder from Yuanbang. Being without an heir, the husband and wife silently prayed to the powers above. In their garden a plum tree produced only a single fruit that was extremely large. Under the moon they heard an infant crying, and when the couple went to look, they saw that the fruit [had split into] two halves, and within was a girl of uncommon appearance. After they raised her to maturity, she was bathing by the river when a piece [duan] of sandalwood suddenly floated upstream [Chinese characters missing from extant text] and she became pregnant. Later it was known that [the wood] was the Originary Ancestor of this territory. She gave birth to two boys who used Duan as their surname and were called Siping and Sizhou. [Siping’s] achievements were unsurpassed in glory,

92

L I T T L E W H I T E SI ST E R

and at the time of [Chinese characters missing from extant text] he built Linghui si. Today this temple’s Holy Mother [Shengmu] is none other than the previously mentioned girl. For generations the Duke’s family has received their ancestor’s wondrous protection, shining [Chinese characters missing from extant text] continuously without substitution.32

The remainder of the epitaph lauds the duke’s intelligence, talent, and piety. This account makes an important move in linking the Yang lineage to that of the Dali rulers through Duan Siping’s mother, who was worshipped as Holy Mother at Linghui si during this time. The inclusion of the Baijie Amei legend in this epitaph shows that the Bai kingdom was not just a story of divine kingship; it was also a story of divine kinship. The lineage ties that linked the various rulers of Dali lived on after the fall of the Bai kingdom in the kinship claims of people such as Duke Yang. Not only did the Bai kingdom extend through the Duan rulers, it extended to the later inhabitants of the Dali region. T H E BA I K I N G D OM A N D BA I E T H N IC I T Y

The extension of the Bai kingdom from King Aśoka to the Zhang rulers of B­aiyai, the Nanzhao Meng kings, and finally the Dali Duan kings created a coherent narrative of the Dali region’s history that synthesized its divergent elements into a single story.33 In the aftermath of the Ming conquest, local elites could point to the Bai kingdom as proof that the Dali region was not a cultural backwater but the center of a divine regime whose kings had the same super­ human paternity as China’s culture heroes. The Bai kingdom fits Anthony D. Smith’s concept of “dynastic mytho­ moteur,” a community’s constitutive myth in which the community identifies with the royal house.34 The development of the Bai kingdom narrative coincided with increased references to the Bai people in the Ming, though “Bai” was initially used interchangeably with “Bo.” During the Ming, the character Bo became associated with the peoples of southern Yunnan and those living west of the Mekong River.35 In the Tianqi-era (1621–1627) Dian zhi (Dian gazetteer), the author distinguishes the Bai people of Dali from the Bo and identifies the former as a “branch of the ancient Bai kingdom.”36 Many factors contributed to the rise of the ethnonym “Bai,” including the changing sense of “Bo” and the previous use of the term “white/Bai barbarians,” but the increasing prominence of the Bai kingdom narrative was paramount. It was only after the reference to the Bai kingdom in the Ji gu Dian shuo ji that “Bai” became more widespread as an ethnonym. It seems to have been espe-



L I T T L E W H I T E SI S T E R

93

cially popular with the local Xizhou elite: it appeared in the title of the Bai gu tongji, which was also known as Bai shi, and Yang Andao used the term “Bai script” to refer to his use of Sinitic characters to represent the local language. Yet this geographical, and even familial, restriction raises questions about whether “Bai” operated as an ethnonym for a large group of people or a smaller group deployed ethnic language in representing their own lineage claims. T H E YA N G FA M I LY O F X I Z HOU

In the early Ming dynasty the Yang family of Xizhou consistently emphasized divine local ancestry related to the Bai kingdom. In the mid-fifteenth century, funerary inscriptions began to appear in the Dali region that identified the deceased as a “descendant of the Jiulong clan” (Jiulong zu zhi yi), that is, a descendant of Shayi’s sons. Hou Chong has argued that this reflects a strengthening of ethnic consciousness among the prominent Bai families of the Dali plain: the claim of Jiulong ancestry is made for members of nine different families.37 Zhao Yuzhong has pointed out that these constitute a small fraction of extant inscriptions from that period and only come from the mid-fifteenth through mid-sixteenth centuries.38 Though there are some problems with Zhao’s methodology, his argument that Hou overstates the importance of Jiulong ancestry claims in post-Yuan Dali is well taken. However, neither Hou nor Zhao addresses a common feature of these inscriptions: with one exception from 1566, all were written by Yang men from Xizhou.39 These authors used the term “descendants of the Jiulong clan” in a formulaic way, as shorthand for an illustrious lineage. Yet this particular illustrious lineage was rooted in Dali’s local history and the legend of the Bai kingdom. The Xizhou Yang family’s central role in recording Dali’s divine history and articulating Bai identity calls into question the relationships between ethnicity, clan, and lineage. It is possible that claims of Jiulong ancestry, identification as Bai, and the Bai gu tongji’s stories were known throughout the Dali plain in the early Ming or even before, and that the Yang family’s writings represented the views of the greater Dali population. However, scholars of ethnicity such as Rogers Brubaker have pointed out that the rhetoric of ethnicity can be used to mask clan or class interests.40 In the language of Smith’s dynastic mythomoteur, if there is a community identifying with a royal house, we must reconsider who that community is. In the case of the Baijie Amei legend and its story of divine kin(g)ship, at least during the early Ming, the “community” might be limited to the Yang family of Xizhou.41

94

L I T T L E W H I T E SI ST E R

Baijie Amei plays a role in continuing the Bai kingdom through the rulers of Dali, but she also serves the Xizhou Yang family specifically by connecting them to this illustrious lineage. Both roles hinge on her gendered symbolism: she is the adopted daughter of the Yang family and the mother of Duan Siping. Understanding how she legitimates the Yang family’s claims to belong to the Bai kingdom requires understanding how her gendered roles operated in the semiotic system of Ming Dali, which involves looking at her connections to the local figure Baijie Shengfei as well as translocal dragon mothers.

Dragons, Mothers, and Kings

Baijie Amei’s story features a woman becoming pregnant when she encounters a disguised dragon, then giving birth to the future founder of a kingdom. This episode would have been familiar not only to people who knew the Shayi legend but also to people educated in the classical Chinese tradition. Legends about dragons abound in Chinese history, and they use a semiotics of gender that resonates in the story of Baijie Shengfei. Female dragons exist in Chinese tradition, but dragons are symbolically male. Ancient texts such as the Yijing, Hou Han shu, and Lunheng (Balanced discourses) describe dragons as essentially yang creatures.42 By extension, dragons symbolize imperial power: the Former Han Xin shu (New writings) states “dragon is a metaphor for the human ruler,” which reinforces the masculinity and power of the emperor.43 Dragons also symbolize the seminal, masculine aspect of water. The Xunzi states that “when accumulated water forms a pool, jiao dragons are born there,” and “pools in streams are where dragons and fish live.”44 Dragons’ dual associations with imperial power and water manifest in legends of dragons impregnating women to produce kings, which appear throughout Chinese history. As progenitors of human emperors, dragons impart divinity and royal authority to their offspring.45 The earliest record of a dragon fathering a future emperor is the biography of the Han-dynasty founder Liu Bang in the Shiji (Records of the historian), in which a jiao dragon impregnates his mother while she dreams of a god on the banks of a marsh.46 A fifthcentury commentary on the Shiji states that the legendary emperor Shun was conceived when his mother simply looked at a hong dragon.47 A similar tale about Confucius appears in annotations to the Liji (Book of rites).48 Later texts record legends of girls conceiving dragon sons when bathing or washing laundry in rivers. These stories frequently end with the mother committing suicide and being worshipped posthumously (along with her sons) by locals.49



L I T T L E W H I T E SI S T E R

95

The Shayi and Baijie Amei legends fit into the Chinese genre of dragons fathering great rulers, but is this proof of Chinese “influence”? In the fourth century, when the Shayi legend was first recorded, Chinese dynasties had maintained an official presence in Yongchang Commandery and Chinese settlers had lived there for over two hundred years. It is quite possible that the native population, including the Ailao, adopted some elements of Chinese culture and intermarried with the Chinese population without becoming “Chinese.” Dragon legends could have been one element of Chinese culture the Ailao embraced. Even if the Shayi legend originally developed among the Ailao independently of Chinese dragon mythology, by the time the Baijie Amei legend appeared, the Dali elites were well educated in the Chinese tradition and would have been familiar with tales of dragons fathering culture heroes and kings. Legends of dragons fathering exceptional men present the woman as a channel through which divine power passes from a superhuman figure to a human figure. As a passive channel, the woman is often not a willing or even conscious participant. These legends center around the operative verb gan, “stimulate,” which refers in this case to the dragon impregnating the woman without sexual penetration. Women who conceive in this way do not have intercourse but are affected by outside stimuli, which can be animal, vegetable, or mineral.50 This trope is common throughout similar Chinese tales, in which the mothers of sage kings conceive after stepping in a giant’s footprint, swallowing an egg, or dreaming of an encounter with a handsome youth.51 The Baijie Amei legend is paradigmatically associated with these legends from classical Chinese tradition but also shows remarkable similarities with a legend cycle from Qing-dynasty Hunan. One version of the “White Emperor Heavenly Kings” (Baidi tianwang) legend from West Hunan features a dragon impregnating a daughter of the Yang family while she washes clothes in the river. She gives birth to three sons who grow up to be great men who serve the emperor loyally but who die after being poisoned by jealous rivals. They are posthumously enfeoffed as the “White Emperor Heavenly Kings” and enshrined in a temple, where their mother also has an altar.52 The extent of the similarities between this legend and that of Baijie Amei suggests a shared genealogy, but, as Donald Sutton and Xie Xiaohui have shown, the context of Qing West Hunan shaped (and was shaped by) the “White Emperor Heavenly Kings” legend. Whereas in Dali the Baijie Amei legend formed as a local response to the Ming conquest, in West Hunan the White Emperor Heavenly Kings legend developed through Qing interactions among Miao, Han, and Tujia populations.

96

L I T T L E W H I T E SI ST E R

In these legends of “stimulated” conception from classical Chinese, Dali, and Hunan tradition, one of the questions that emerges is how the son fits into the family line and what surname he adopts. For example, Liu Bang, the first Han emperor, took his mother’s surname. The earliest versions of the Shayi legend resolve this tension by presenting Shayi as a single woman; later versions get around it by having her husband Meng Jiadu drown in the pond, implying that the dragon she later encounters is a transformation of him.53 Different versions of the Baijie Amei legend offer different solutions: the Sanling miao ji doubles Duan Siping’s paternity, so that he has the surname and prominent political lineage from Baijie’s husband, Duan Baolong, and the divine power of his dragon father. The inclusion of the component “dragon” in his human father’s name reinforces this doubling. The 1441 epitaph only mentions Baijie Amei’s human husband, while the 1481 epitaph makes no reference to Baijie Amei marrying but suggests that Duan Siping and his brother took their surname from the piece (duan) of wood that floated into their mother. Unlike some later versions of the Shayi story or Chinese legends of women impregnated by dragons, Baijie Amei’s unconventional conception does not cause suspicion, scandal, or suicide. No hint of sexual deviance appears in Baijie Amei’s legend, and her role of linking one form of masculine power to another conforms to the logic of patrilineality.54 She (like Shayi) is celebrated for her fecundity, as she gave birth not only to multiple sons but also to the kingdom that one of them founded. Baijie Amei’s ability to legitimate the Dali kingdom as a continuation of the Bai kingdom relies on her maternal role. As Lian Ruizhi argues, the women in the Shayi and Baijie Amei legends link divine and royal bloodlines, giving ­mothers a central role in Dali’s elite ancestry.55 The Baijie Amei legend engages the translocal, intertextual system of signification in which a dragon impregnating a woman to produce an exceptional man is a form of royal legitimation. Yet this is not the only role Baijie Amei plays in her legend. Baijie Amei differs from the other dragon mothers in that she herself has a miraculous birth story in which her role as daughter comes to the fore. The childless elderly man (or couple) who prays for an heir never expresses dismay that a girl, not a boy, pops out of the giant plum. On one level, having two divine parents further augments Duan Siping’s power, but it also diverges from standard dragon mother stories by making the woman exceptional in her own right. Baijie Amei’s role as daughter is not itself subversive—it was common for families to cement ties through marriage, which is how she connects the Yang family



L I T T L E W H I T E SI S T E R

97

to the founder of the Dali kingdom—but the circumstances of her birth present her as more than connective tissue. This is supported by her enfeoffment and enshrinement in Linghui si: Baijie Amei was treated not just as a figure of legend but as a goddess as well. T WO W H I T E SI ST E R S : BA I J I E A M E I A N D BA I J I E SH E N G F E I

Baijie Amei’s role as dragon mother would have resonated throughout China, but her name would have resonated only in Dali. The characters for “White Sister” are identical in the names Baijie Amei and Baijie Shengfei, and given their shared dragon symbolism this does not appear to be coincidental. In fact, Baijie Shengfei’s dragon iconography became one of the strongest parts of her identity after the fall of the Dali kingdom. Ming and Qing records about Baijie Shengfei, most of which come from the Jianchuan region north of the Dali plain, reveal that she was connected to the Buddhist nāga king Upananda and worshipped as a rain deity who could prevent floods and droughts. We first see this in the 1461 Xiu Baijie Shengfei Longwang hemiao beiji (Stele record of repairing the joint temple of Baijie Shengfei and the Dragon King). After giving the description of Baijie Shengfei from the Dahei tianshen daochang yi, this record notes that Liulongchong, the subprefecture seat, was inundated every year with flooding from the Yanchang River. Locals had heard of an extremely efficacious Baijie Temple in Danglanchang, so they took the statue from there and enshrined it on the south side of the Yanchang River, then had a statue of the dragon king Upananda made and installed to the east. Baijie Shengfei and Upananda together suppressed floods and droughts.56 An entry about the same temple—here called the Dragon God Shrine (Longshen ci)—in the Guangxu-era (1875–1908) Jianchuan zhigao (Jianchuan gazetteer draft) states that the dragon king Upananda was worshipped outside and Mother Hārītī was worshipped inside. It notes that the statue of Hārītī came from the Western Regions (xiyu) and was first enshrined in the Baijie Temple but was moved here to suppress floods caused by jiao dragons. The temple also had a huge bell that was used in rainmaking rituals.57 The Baijie Temple in Danglanchang from which the Baijie Shengfei/Hārītī statue was taken has an entry in the Jianchuan zhigao under “Baijie miao”: “[The temple is located] ten li northeast of the city wall [of the Jianchuan county seat]. Mother Hārītī is worshipped there. Prayers for clear skies or rain receive divine responses. Built by the local chieftain Hai Chang during

98

L I T T L E W H I T E SI ST E R

the Yuan. Repaired in year six of Daoguang [1826] by Hai Changbao.”58 A record for the same temple in the Jianchuan xianzhi caifangce (Jianchuan County gazetteer, interview volumes) identifies Hai Chang as a local chieftain of the Ming, not the Yuan, and claims that he purchased the statue of Baijie Shengfei/ Hārītī—here called “Spirit Consort” (lingfei)—from a mysterious old woman in Beisheng who disappeared immediately after the sale.59 Hai Chang returned home with the statue and built Ling miao, “Spirit Temple,” to enshrine it. He then realized that the statue’s left hand held a Sand-Repelling Pearl (bisha zhu) that put an end to flooding in the area. Several years later, bandits stole the pearl and the region was plagued by annual sandstorms. The sandstorms subsided when Hai Changbao repaired the temple in 1826.60 For Baijie Shengfei to have the powers of a dragon deity reveals that—at least for the people of Jianchuan—this aspect of her identity was the most powerful. It also might hint at Baijie Shengfei’s origins: if she was a local dragon deity reimagined as a Buddhist goddess, it would make sense for her earlier nature to remain dominant. Of course, Baijie Shengfei’s Buddhist identity had not faded at this time, as at least parts of the Dahei tianshen daochang yi were still circulating and she was still connected to Hārītī and Mahākāla, but she was popularly known as a rain deity rather than an incarnation of Maitreya or Śrī. Based on these sources from Jianchuan, Baijie Shengfei’s serpentine iconography, and a modern record about Sanling miao, it appears that Baijie Amei got the first part of her name based on a statue of Baijie Shengfei. When the scholar Zheng Tianting visited Sanling miao in 1944, he described one of the four main deities there as follows: “On the right is a statue of a woman that has three dragons rising up from behind: one is in the center of her headdress; two are next to her ears.”61 At that time, there were two plaques in front of this statue. One identified this figure as the “Numinous Emperor of Er River” (Erhe lingdi), but this was the title of a male god.62 The second plaque read, “Dragon God Who Attained the Way and Was Moved” (Dedao Yougan Longshen), which could refer to Baijie.63 The Buddhist Baijie Shengfei had probably been worshipped at Sanling miao, but by the early Ming her role as Mahākāla’s consort was fading. The authors of the Gu chushi Yang gong tongqi muzhiming and Sanling miao ji might have identified this figure as Duan Siping’s mother because of their shared connections with dragons. Baijie Amei and Baijie Shengfei were both female figures connected with dragons, but their other gendered roles diverged. Baijie Shengfei’s title, shengfei, identifies her in relation to Mahākāla: she is his “holy consort,” and she



L I T T L E W H I T E SI S T E R

99

lacks significant maternal symbolism. Baijie Amei’s title “Heaven-Sent Lucky Star, Virtuous and Kind Holy Mother” instead identifies her in relation to Duan Siping as his shengmu, “Holy Mother.” In China “Holy Mother” usually refers to the mother of the emperor, but in the Song dynasty “Holy Mother” became a common title for goddesses when the court began granting imperial titles to local deities to bring their cults under state control.64 The use of such titles (and “Holy Mother” specifically) for local deities continued into late imperial times. In the Song dynasty, “Holy Mother” was also used specifically for the imperial ancestress of the ruling house, who was worshipped alongside the Holy Ancestor (shengzu); both figures were later incorporated into the Daoist pantheon.65 This suggests a model for the worship of Baijie Amei, who was the imperial ancestress of the Duan rulers. As a goddess enshrined in Linghui si, she embodied both the imperial and divine aspects of the title “Holy Mother.” Baijie Amei and Baijie Shengfei represent different feminine roles, but both of them have names that mark them as feminine. Baijie, of course, means “white elder sister.” In the case of Baijie Amei the name Baijie would have signified not only the color white but also the burgeoning notion of Bai ethnicity (at least for some in the Dali plain). “Amei” is a generic, informal way of hailing

F IG U R E 3 . 1 .  

Baijie Amei, Linghui si

100

L I T T L E W H I T E SI ST E R

young women, and mei by itself denotes “younger sister.” For most people conversant in Chinese the name Baijie Amei signifies a relatively young woman; for some in Dali it could additionally convey ethnicity. The name Baijie, dragon symbolism, and distinctively feminine roles connect Baijie Shengfei and Baijie Amei to each other and are also tied to the divine authority of the Dali kingdom. For people in the Dali region the name Baijie might have evoked the divine power of Baijie Shengfei as a tutelary deity of the last independent regime in the area. One possibility is that Baijie Shengfei was originally the euhemerized mother of Duan Siping, but the use of shengfei rather than shengmu in her title makes this highly unlikely. Their shared tie to Dali kingdom power reinforced their mutual identification and could have been another way Baijie Amei worship drew on the legitimacy of the established figure Baijie Shengfei. Baijie Amei operates semiotically on several levels to legitimate the Xizhou Yang family’s lineage claims. For people in Xizhou she signified the local power of Sanling miao and Linghui si, which were known to more than just the Yang family. For people in Dali she signified the divine authority of the Dali kingdom through her constellation with Baijie Shengfei. For people beyond Dali who encountered her story, she signified the common theme of dragons impregnating women to produce exceptional men. Her gendered symbolism plays a central role in these forms of signification: her identification with Baijie Shengfei rests on their shared feminine identities, and in supporting the lineage claims of the Yang family and Duan Siping’s noteworthy parentage she plays the familiar feminine role of connecting masculine nodes. However, her ability to legitimate such claims depended on the success of the Xizhou Yang family’s semiotic system among a larger audience, and it is here that resistance developed.

Limits of Legitimacy: Baijie Amei’s Disappearance in the Sixteenth Century “R E M OV I N G T H E FA N TA ST IC A L” : T H E I N F LU E N C E O F T H E NA N Z HAO Y UA N L I U J I YAO

Baijie Amei is a central figure in three fifteenth-century records but almost disappears from the record starting in the sixteenth century. Her near vanishing act stems from her legend’s failure to reach an audience beyond the Xizhou Yang family. The fifteenth-century records that recounted Baijie Amei’s story had limited circulation in the Xizhou area, but their shared source—the Bai gu tongji—began to spread in the sixteenth century and attract attention from



L I T T L E W H I T E SI S T E R

101

locals and nonlocals alike. For the Bai gu tongji to reach a nonlocal audience it had to be translated into standard Chinese, which the local literatus Yang Ding appears to have done in the early sixteenth century with the now-lost Nanzhao tongji (Comprehensive records of Nanzhao).66 Yang Ding was a Dali native but had served as the assistant prefect (tongpan) of Huangzhou in Hubei.67 He would have been familiar with the conventions of Chinese historiography in presenting the Bai gu tongji to a wider readership. The Nanzhao tongji included the legends of Baijie Amei’s miraculous birth and her divine conception of Duan Siping. We know this from quotations in the 1532 Nanzhao yuanliu jiyao (Collected essentials on Nanzhao history), written by Jiang Bin, who was not a Dali native, but a surveillance vice commissioner (ancha fushi) from northeast Guangxi.68 Jiang wrote the Nanzhao yuanliu jiyao after comparing accounts of Dali history from Chinese sources such as the Han shu, Tang shu, and Zizhi tongjian (Comprehensive mirror for aid in government) to the local histories Nanzhao tongji and Bai gu tongji.69 One of his goals was to “retain that which was believable and remove that which was fantastical and suspicious”; the text ends with the two categories of “Retaining the Believable” (cun xin) and “Removing the Fantastical” (qu guai).70 In “Retaining the Believable” Jiang gives reasons for including the legends of Shayi and Duan Siping’s miraculous birth in his preceding narrative of Dali history. The main narrative recounts the story of Duan Siping’s birth as follows: “In the past, Siping’s mother Ayuan once crossed the Weibang River and encountered a segment of wood and lotus. She touched it, whereupon her heart moved [gan] and she was pregnant. When she reached the due date she gave birth to Siping.”71 Jiang acknowledged that both the stories of Shayi and Duan Siping’s birth seemed unbelievable but justified their inclusion on the basis that similar tales from Chinese tradition, such as Jiangyuan becoming pregnant after stepping on a giant’s footprint and giving birth to Houji (Lord Millet), were retained in historical records.72 The miraculous birth of Duan Siping’s mother, on the other hand, falls under the heading “Removing the Fantastical”: For example, the [Nanzhao] Tongji states that Duan Siping’s mother Ayuan was born from a plum fruit. Originally her father, named Joy [Huanxi], was wealthy but without sons or daughters, so every day he burned incense and appealed to Heaven to obtain an heir. Later in the garden a plum tree formed a fruit that fell to the ground in the middle of the night, making a sound. When he went to

102

L I T T L E W H I T E SI ST E R

look, the plum fruit had split into two halves and produced a girl. He took her in and raised her, naming her Ayuan. These kinds of fantastical stories will now be completely excised.73

This account calls Duan Siping’s mother Ayuan instead of Baijie Amei but other­wise the details are the same as those in fifteenth-century sources. Until the Nanzhao yuanliu jiyao, all versions of this tale appeared in texts written by men from the Dali region with the Yang surname. It is only when an outsider takes up local Dali history that this episode is dismissed as unbelievable. Jiang Bin could accept the Shayi legend and Duan Siping’s conception because they fit a model of royal legitimation that accorded with classical Chinese tradition. These stories engaged a broad semiotic system in which male dragons imbued their human sons with the authority to establish kingdoms. While Jiang could accept that great men were born in miraculous circumstances, he could not countenance the idea that their mothers were, too. His criterion was accordance with Chinese historiography, and he could find no parallels for the miraculous birth of Duan Siping’s mother. Gender was where the fissure opened up between the Yang family’s lineage claims and the semiotic system for legitimating royal authority operating beyond Dali. If the tale of Baijie Amei being born from a plum struck Chinese historians as fantastical, it would not have been so unthinkable to people in Burma, where the mother of King Kyanzittha (fl. 1084–1113) was said to have been born miraculously from a bael fruit.74 This part of Baijie Amei’s legend might have stemmed from interactions between Dali and Burma, as contact between the two regions is described in early records and supported by similarities between Nanzhao and Burmese culture. Forms of royal legitimation that worked in Bagan, and perhaps in the Dali kingdom as well, were not as successful in late imperial China. Jiang Bin’s dismissal of the Baijie Amei/Ayuan legend seems to have been convincing, as almost all histories of the Dali region from the sixteenth century on omit it. None of the three versions of the influential Nanzhao yeshi (Unofficial history of Nanzhao), all from the sixteenth century, include the legend of Baijie Amei’s birth.75 Even the legend of Duan Siping’s miraculous birth is condensed: one version states that “[Duan Siping’s] mother became pregnant when she touched wood while crossing a river and gave birth to two sons, the elder Siping and the younger Siliang,” while that of Yang Shen (1488–1559) merely records that “at Siping’s birth there were marvelous omens [ yi zhao].”76



L I T T L E W H I T E SI S T E R

103

Yang Shen shares a surname with the Xizhou Yang family, but he hailed from Chengdu and was exiled to Yunnan in 1524 by the Ming emperor. During his three decades in Yunnan he grew interested in local history, and in addition to writing a version of the Nanzhao yeshi, he composed the Dian zaiji (Record of Dian), which is said to be based on the Bai gu tongji.77 However, the Dian zaiji record of Duan Siping’s birth is identical to that in Yang Shen’s Nanzhao yeshi: it only mentions that there were “marvelous omens.”78 Yang Shen’s account of Duan Siping’s birth was the basis for later iterations in Ming-Qing records written by outsiders, such as the Dian lüe (Dian essentials), the early Kangxi-era (1662–1722) Dian kao (Investigation of Dian), and the ca. 1688 Erhai congtan (Collected tales of Er Lake).79 These works copy Yang Shen’s wording, mentioning only that “at Siping’s birth there were marvelous omens”; they do not include the tale of Baijie Amei. T H E BA IG U O Y I N YOU

The only extant source from after the fifteenth century that includes Baijie Amei’s birth story is the early Qing Baiguo yinyou (History of the Bai kingdom). This text is structured around eighteen manifestations of Guanyin in which the bodhisattva plays an instrumental role in the history of the Bai kingdom, which here explicitly extends from King Aśoka’s middle son Piaoxinju through the Duan rulers.80 The story of Baijie Amei and Duan Siping’s birth appears in the section on Guanyin’s seventeenth manifestation: Now, Duan Siping is the son of the Three Spirits. The Bai gu tong[ji] says: a plum tree formed a plum that slowly grew to the size of a gourd. Suddenly one night the plum fell and there was the sound of an infant crying. The neighboring couple arose and went to look. They saw a girl, and because they lacked an heir, they took her in and raised her. After she grew up, the people of that area sought her as a match, but none were accepted. Suddenly the Three Spirits Bai/White Emperor [sanling baidi] coupled with her and she gave birth to Siping and S­ iliang. When they grew up, they had nothing to rely on and were simply willing to pass their days in poverty, not daring to commit deceitful behavior. Who could have known that the great Yang Ming would believe the rumors about them and thereby bring about his own demise? That which happens without anyone acting is [caused by] Heaven.81

In this section, then-ruler Yang Ming hears rumors that Duan Siping has royal ambitions and attempts to capture his would-be usurper. Duan Siping flees

104

L I T T L E W H I T E SI ST E R

and is hidden by an old man, who is actually Guanyin in disguise. This story of Duan Siping’s parentage supports the contention of this section, which is that Duan Siping did not desire royal authority but was destined for it. The Baiguo yinyou shows the continued importance of the Baijie Amei legend to the Bai kingdom narrative and its continued connection to Xizhou. The extant copy of the Baiguo yinyou was printed by Jiyu, the abbot of Shengyuan si, which still stands in the Xizhou area. Little is known about the author, but he was also connected to Shengyuan si, and his claim that the Baiguo yinyou was a translation of the Bai-language Bai gu tongji into standard Chinese suggests that he was a Dali local.82 Even if he was an outsider who settled in the Dali region for many years, like Yang Shen, his residence in Xizhou provides a link to other versions of the Baijie Amei legend and suggests that the legend remained rooted in the Xizhou area. Authors and editors of Dali histories in the Ming and Qing did not dismiss the Bai gu tongji outright; on the contrary, they adopted many stories from it and used it as an important, if imperfect, source for Dali history. However, they were not invested in the divine authority of a Bai kingdom or the Yang family’s connection to it, which explains their condensing of Duan Siping’s miraculous conception and birth and their omission of Baijie Amei’s birth story. Nonlocal historians used the criterion of orthodox Chinese historiography to reject the Baijie Amei legend on the grounds that such stories did not appear in classical texts and dynastic records. The Baijie Amei legend had no meaning for them and appeared to be a fantastical myth. The Baijie Amei legend did have meaning for residents of the Xizhou area, particularly the Yang family. For them, the Baijie Amei legend placed the Dali kingdom within the larger Bai kingdom narrative and incorporated Xizhou, and the Yang family specifically, into Dali’s divine history.

Conclusions: Gender and Bai Ethnogenesis

Of the three different figures attached to the name “Baijie” in Dali history, ­Baijie Amei has the most limited existence in terms of the sources that mention her and the geographical reach of her legend. Yet her legend and its near disappearance show something important about representations of local identity in Ming-dynasty Dali. Like Baijie Shengfei, Baijie Amei is a local figure that embodies local and translocal forces in a gendered way. The translocal, Chinese elements of her identity succeed among local and nonlocal elites, who record the miracles associated with Duan Siping’s birth, but the local elements of her



L I T T L E W H I T E SI S T E R

105

identity do not come across as “Chinese” and are omitted. The crucial problem is that Baijie Amei’s own miraculous birth does not conform to feminine roles in Chinese historiography, which is why Jiang Bin deems it “fantastical.” What worked as a legitimating legend for the Xizhou Yang family in a smaller context did not work in the wider world of Ming-dynasty Yunnan. For the Xizhou Yang family, Baijie Amei connected the Duan royal family to the Meng royal family and tied the Yang clan to both. Baijie Amei, like Shayi, signified the maternal crux of the Bai kingdom: for the rulers to claim dragon paternity, they needed mothers to channel and incubate that power. Claims of divine kinship and divine kingship dominate histories of the Bai kingdom and lineage records from the Ming dynasty, but few sources give local representations of Bai ethnicity. What we see instead are claims to have descended from great families of the Bai kingdom, whether Meng, Duan, or both. Such claims appear to have developed in response to the Yuan and Ming conquests of Dali but do not appear to reflect shared ethnic resistance to those conquests. Ancestry, more than ethnicity, is the form of local identity that Baijie Amei signifies. Even for the Xizhou Yang family, who seem to have taken the lead in using Bai in an ethnic sense, the central legitimating strategy is making lineage claims for themselves and other families as descendants of Jiulong or Baijie Amei. Baijie Amei all but disappears from the historical record during the late Ming and Qing dynasties, but she returns in the Republican era (1911–1949 on the mainland) when modern scholars reexamine Dali history through the lens of racial discourse. Her role as Duan Siping’s mother remains most important, and her name is seen as a clue to the racial background of the Dali rulers. Before this resurgence, however, another Baijie appears, who illustrates the changes in gendered representations of local identity that develop in Qingdynasty Dali.

4

LADY OF CYPRESS CHASTIT Y Baijie Furen in the Ming and Qing

B Y T H E M I D -N I N E T E E N T H C E N T U RY , someone walking into a Baijie temple in the Dali region might encounter the dragon goddess Baijie Shengfei, Duan Siping’s mother Baijie Amei, or Baijie Furen, “Lady of Cypress Chastity,” an eighth-century widow martyr who committed suicide rather than marry her husband’s killer. It is this widow martyr that people today mainly associate with the name Baijie, but for most of the Ming and Qing dynasties the widow martyr legend called its heroine Cishan, “Kindness,” instead. Cishan’s legend first appears in the Yuan dynasty and develops throughout the following centuries, giving rise to two festivals honoring the widow martyr as well as shrines that promote her example. The appearance of this widow martyr coincided with the spread of the chastity cult in the Ming and Qing, when the state increasingly rewarded widows who remained chaste or committed suicide to protect their virtue. At the same time, the central government undertook civilizing projects in border regions to bring Chinese culture in general and Confucian teachings in particular to the benighted “barbarians” who lived there. Dali was the target of such civilizing projects for over five hundred years, and Baijie Furen was one of the symbols through which these civilizing projects were negotiated. Like the two other Baijies before her, Baijie Furen signified local identity in a gendered way and embodied both local and translocal forces. Her name and connection to Dali’s ancient past marked her as local, but her legend and role as widow martyr placed her within translocal systems of signification. Whereas

108

L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA ST I T Y

Baijie Shengfei signified feminine abundance and gender complementarity in relation to Mahākāla and Baijie Amei signified maternal fecundity and connected two masculine nodes in a patrilineal genealogy, Baijie Furen’s gendered signification operates around wifely virtue. In this chapter I consider how literati in the Ming and Qing presented the legend of an eighth-century Dali woman who mastered the highest feminine virtue in the Confucian tradition. Specifically, I examine how Baijie’s gendered virtues intersected with representations of the Dali population in the writings of locals and nonlocals. Far more writings about Baijie Furen survive than for the other forms of Baijie, owing both to the later time period and to Baijie Furen’s stronger connection to the zeitgeist of the chastity cult. Baijie Furen’s legend appears in the unofficial histories mentioned in the previous chapter, such as the Ji gu Dian shuo ji and Nanzhao yeshi, but the biggest sources for her legend and veneration are local and regional gazetteers from the Ming and Qing. Baijie Furen (or Cishan) comes up in sections on heroic women (lienü), ancient landmarks, temples, poetry, and local history. Local gazetteers were compiled and edited by local governments to gather knowledge about the area for outsiders, especially higher government offices. Their content categories were formulaic, and the content was selected with official interests in mind. However, these gazetteers contained writings by locals and in some places were edited by locals.1 Moreover, many of the locals whose poems or historical writings appear in gazetteers were degree-holders who served as officials elsewhere in the empire. Using local gazetteers as a source for different representations of Baijie Furen thus requires attention to the complexities of local and nonlocal identification. Representations of Baijie Furen and her legend in poems and temple records connect her temporally to two festivals observed in the Dali region and spatially to sites of worship throughout the same area. She would have been known to a much wider audience than just the authors, compilers, and editors of local gazetteers. While some records suggest how people in Dali engaged with Baijie Furen as an exemplar and goddess, her reception is largely a mystery. For example, it is clear that she was presented as an exemplary woman alongside more recent female martyrs of the Ming and Qing, but it is unclear whether her story directly inspired women to embrace death over dishonor. We are still dealing with sources written by educated men, though some of them served at the Ming and Qing courts, while others may have never left Dali. Semiotics remains my primary approach in reading historical sources on Baijie Furen in the Ming and Qing for representations of her legend, for her



L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA S T I T Y 

109

constellations with other figures, local and translocal, and for representations of local identities. The same Ming and Qing records that recount Baijie Furen’s legend also classify Dali’s native population in ways that increasingly conform to modern discourses of ethnicity. Baijie Shengfei was enmeshed in politico-­ religious forms of signification, while Baijie Amei belonged to a semiotic system of lineage and divine authority. Baijie Furen’s signification similarly operates in relation to local identity but in different ways that show the changing gendered representations of collective identification in Ming and Qing Dali.

Civilizing the Unruly Frontier: Dali in the Qing Dynasty

Yunnan’s remoteness meant that it was one of the last regions to be incorporated into the Ming and Qing empires and as such served as a haven for loyal­ ists of the falling regimes. In the fourteenth century, the Mongol Prince of Liang remained in control of Yunnan until the Ming army finally conquered the region in 1382. Three centuries later, the Qing conquest of Yunnan was delayed first by forces supporting the Southern Ming Yongli Emperor (Zhu Youlang; r. 1646–1662), and then by the regime of Wu Sangui, a Qing general who defeated the Yongli Emperor but then established himself as ruler of the Southwest.2 Only in 1678 were Qing troops able to move in and bring Yunnan and the rest of the Southwest under direct Qing rule for the first time.3 Resistance to the Qing did not end with the defeat of Wu Sangui, however, and the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries saw anti-Qing movements based in Dali that engaged ethnic and religious identification. Mt. Jizu, a sacred Buddhist mountain just northeast of the Dali plain, became the base for Zhang Baotai, a native of southern Yunnan who preached Maitreya’s imminent return. His millenarian message quickly spread to the neighboring provinces of Sichuan and Guizhou and eventually throughout China, which alarmed Qing officials.4 It is unclear whether Zhang himself held anti-Manchu beliefs, but subsequent proponents of his teachings certainly did. Most famously, Dali was the capital of Du Wenxiu’s sultanate, the Kingdom of Pacifying the South (Pingnan guo), from 1856 to 1872. The Dali sultanate was part of the larger Panthay Rebellion led by Hui Yunnanese against the Qing in response to attacks on the Hui by Han migrants and local officials. David Atwill has shown that the conflict was not just between Hui and Han or Muslims and non-Muslims, as many Han and non-Han people fought alongside the Hui. In Dali, the Islamic foundation of Du Wenxiu’s regime was balanced by his desire for a multiethnic state, and he employed officials of different ethnicities, includ-

110

L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA ST I T Y

ing Bai.5 Du even invoked the longevity of the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms, writing, “Even if we cannot realize far-reaching permanent victory, we can still achieve a smaller more remote success like that of the Nanzhao kingdom which lasted eight hundred years.”6 The continued symbolic resonance of the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms in the Qing is further illustrated by the Qianlong emperor’s reproduction of the Fanxiang juan in two works, which separated the royal figures at the beginning and end of the painting from the images of Buddhist deities. Patricia Berger sees this as reflecting the Qianlong emperor’s desire to harness the power of the Buddhist pantheon and deny the religious authority of independent regimes in the Southwest.7 C I V I L I Z I N G P R OJ E C T S A N D E T H N IC D I S C OU R SE I N T H E Q I N G

In response to the instability of the southwestern frontier, Qing emperors generally imposed greater centralization on the region than their Ming predecessors. Trends that began in the Ming intensified in the Qing. The continuation of the gaitu guiliu system further limited the power of local authorities.8 Starting in the eighteenth century, migrants from China’s overpopulated regions flooded into Yunnan, more than doubling the province’s population between 1775 and 1850.9 Qing policies for the non-Han population in the Southwest contrasted with policies for non-Han populations in the West and Northwest. The court emphasized its Manchu identity in dealing with the latter groups, particularly the Mongols. However, in the Southwest the Qing court represented Chineseness, and Qing officials worked to spread Chinese civilization to the frontier. Just as in the Yuan dynasty, when the Central Asian Muslim Sayyid ‘Ajall Shams al-Din promoted Confucian learning in Yunnan, in the Qing dynasty Manchus were tasked with promoting Chinese culture. Ortai (Chn. E’ertai; 1680–1745), the Manchu governor-general of Yunnan, undertook some civilizing projects but was primarily concerned with territorial expansion and “reclamation” of land from local rulers; he took a dim view of Yunnan’s indigenous population. It was the Han-identified Qing official and Guangxi native Chen Hongmou (1696–1771) who worked to spread Chinese civilization to the people of the southwest borderlands. According to William Rowe, Chen believed in both the absolute correctness of Confucian values and the capacity of women and non-Han to acquire them and become Chinese.10 After taking up the post of treasurer of Yunnan in 1733, Chen worked to build schools throughout the province for the Han and non-Han populations.



L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA S T I T Y 

111

Distinguishing between Han and non-Han could be difficult in a diverse region such as Yunnan, which had seen waves of migrants from the east since the Han dynasty. For recent Han migrants, ethnocultural and regional identities were more straightforward, and many of them formed powerful nativeplace associations in Yunnan. However, ethnic identification was complex for those whose families had lived in Dali prior to the Ming dynasty, and ethnic representation could be fluid: unlike the system of nationality identity in China today, people of the Qing were not restricted to a single ethnicity, and ethnic labels were not standardized. Many Dali natives self-identified as Minjia, “civilians,” to distinguish themselves from the descendants of Ming soldiers who settled in the area.11 “Minjia” signified family background but did not mark ethnic difference as much as “Bai.” In fact, writings by Dali natives almost never use the terms “Bai” and “Han” but instead offer accounts of family ancestry. Even families that had lived in Dali for centuries could claim that their progenitor had originally hailed from the central plains and migrated to Yunnan as early as the Han dynasty or Three Kingdoms period. The complex imbrications of ethnic, cultural, and regional identifications reflect not only the fluidity of ethnic identification but also the reality of intermarriage between male Han newcomers and local women. Qing records recognize the complexity of ethnic and cultural identities but still apply ethnic labels. In sections on customs and demographics, gazetteers from the period characterize Dali’s Bai (or Bo) population as highly sinicized but still take pains to distinguish between the Bai and Han or Chinese (hua) people. The Qianlong-era (1736–1795) Yunnan tongzhi (Comprehensive gazetteer of Yunnan), compiled by Ortai, among others, follow Ming records in describing the Bai as “a branch of the ancient Bai kingdom. Formerly Bo was mistaken for Bai, so they were called the same race, but in fact the two do not interact. They are found in all of Yunnan’s commanderies and their customs do not differ greatly from Chinese people [huaren]. They are also known as Minjiazi [civilians].”12 Qing records are divided on whether the Bai were the indigenous inhabitants of the Dali region or the descendants of Chinese settlers who “went native” and were gradually being re-sinicized. 13 The Xianfeng-era (1851–1861) Dengchuan zhouzhi (Dengchuan Subprefecture gazetteer) also notes the mutual influence of Han settlers and indigenous Bai, stating, “No one knows who is Han and who is local. However, one cannot fail to make distinctions between them.”14 The continued distinction between Bai/Bo and Han shows that no matter how sinicized the Bai were perceived to

112

L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA ST I T Y

be, they remained barbarians in the eyes of nonlocal Qing representatives and thus were not immune to the court’s civilizing project. C I V I L I Z I N G V I RT U E S : T H E C HA ST I T Y C U LT IN THE MING AND QING

One aspect of the Qing court’s civilizing project in the Southwest was encouraging widows to remain faithful to their late husbands by not remarrying. This kind of encouragement was not limited to the Southwest, or to “barbarian” ­areas. Throughout the empire the court recognized and rewarded such women (and their families), as well as women who committed suicide when faced with rape or forced remarriage. The chastity cult began in the Yuan dynasty, became a widespread cultural phenomenon in the Ming, and continued through the Qing. It is no coincidence that this is precisely when the legend of Baijie Furen develops and spreads. Understanding the semiotic system in Baijie Furen’s legend requires understanding both the chastity cult and its application in civilizing projects directed at non-Chinese populations. Prior to the Yuan, the primary Confucian virtue for women was filial piety, which emphasized the bond between women and their natal parents.15 The Song state rewarded widow fidelity, but it was not emphasized over other virtues, and widow remarriage was protected by laws that allowed women to return to their natal homes with their dowries and gave their natal parents the right to marry them out again.16 Scholars have traditionally attributed the rise of widow fidelity to Neo-Confucian influence or conflicts between the Mongols’ custom of levirate marriage and Chinese distaste for the practice.17 However, as Beverly Bossler has demonstrated, Neo-Confucians did not take the lead in promoting widow fidelity, which rose to prominence due to several interrelated developments in the Southern Song dynasty, including the promotion of local exemplars, wives’ roles in grooming children and maintaining the household in a competitive environment, and wives’ desires to distinguish themselves from concubines encroaching on their roles.18 Although widow fidelity rose to prominence under the Song and Yuan, it developed into a cult during the Ming: the state granted shrines and arches to widows who remained chaste and exempted their families from corvée labor.19 To qualify for these honors, a woman had to be widowed before the age of thirty sui and remain chaste until at least fifty sui.20 Women who remained chaste after the death of their fiancés were also eligible according to the same criteria, but they constituted a smaller number of actual cases. The chastity cult



L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA S T I T Y 

113

firmly took hold in the sixteenth century, when the number of chaste widows recorded in regional gazetteers spiked. Unlike their counterparts in previous dynasties, the majority of these women did not live as chaste widows but died as widow martyrs, committing suicide to follow their husbands in death or to protest attempts by their parents or in-laws to force remarriage upon them. Rewarding widow suicides started with the Ming court, though examples of widow martyrs date to the first-century BCE Lienü zhuan (Biographies of exemplary women). Widow suicide generated controversy, with some literati decrying the waste of human life and viewing the practice as a romanticization of death rather than an expression of Confucian virtue. They emphasized instead the widow’s moral obligation to her in-laws, especially if there were heirs to raise. These dissenting voices occasionally influenced court positions on rewarding chastity, but for the most part they were drowned out by those who saw widow suicide as a righteous sacrifice. Ming writings on widow suicide were the province of men; the growing number of women writers in this period tended not to discuss this subject. Katherine Carlitz attributes this disparity to the fact that the cult of chastity— unlike the practice of footbinding—arose in male culture and reflected men’s concerns with public recognition in the form of shrines, arches, and inscriptions. Literati used the widow martyr as a vessel for their own self-expression in two ways: as a passionate figure seeking romantic union with her departed husband, she epitomized emotion (qing), a quality that became central in Ming literature; and men could reveal their own emotional sensibility by writing about widow martyrs.21 Male writers could also use the faithful widow or widow martyr as a proxy for their own political loyalty. This correlation goes back to the Han dynasty: in the Shiji the official Wang Zhu states, “Loyal officials do not serve two lords; virtuous women [zhennü] do not have two husbands.”22 Ming writers invoked this correlation in lamenting that educated male officials lacked the moral fortitude of women, who were stereotyped as weak-willed and ignorant but who were willing to die for their virtue in large numbers.23 Their shame was enhanced by the fact that many widow martyrs did not even come from elite families. The popularization of widow chastity resulted from Ming policies aimed at spreading Confucian values horizontally throughout the empire and vertically to populations without access to classical education. One point of departure in the Ming from earlier rewards for female chastity was that members of the official class were not entitled to honors (though historical records show they

114

L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA ST I T Y

received them anyway).24 Local officials were ordered to find chaste widows in their own jurisdictions, which led to the construction of shrines, arches, and stelae in areas far from the capital.25 As a result, commoner women who may not have been able to read literati tracts on feminine virtue still encountered the chastity cult through monuments to chaste widows and the oral traditions surrounding them.26 Monuments and shrines to chaste widows or widow martyrs were meant to provide moral guidance for women. If the women honored at such shrines were worshipped as spiritually efficacious goddesses who responded to prayers, the shrines were to be shut down.27 However, as Baijie Furen’s example will show, this often did not happen. The chastity cult enjoyed its greatest popularity in southeast China, due in part to that region’s claim to be the heart of Chinese culture following the series of non-Chinese dynasties centered in the North prior to the Ming. As a result, most studies of Ming widow fidelity focus on this region. However, the chastity cult reached parts of the empire considered to be less Chinese, such as border territories, thanks to Ming policies of moving residents from the interior to these areas and actively promoting Confucian education at the local level. These civilizing projects intensified under the Qing, despite (or because of) the court’s Manchu identity, which shaped its view of widow chastity and suicide. Mark C. Elliott has argued that the shift in state support from widow suicide to widow fidelity stemmed from the Manchu rulers’ ethnic insecurity: widow suicide already existed in Manchu culture, where it was unrelated to Confucian values, so supporting it would have perpetuated the view that the Manchu rulers were insufficiently Chinese. By the eighteenth century the Qing emperors had shifted their support to the Confucian virtue of widow fidelity and granted state honors to women who remained faithful after their husband’s death. Concern about Manchu men adopting Chinese cultural practices did not extend to Manchu women’s adherence to Confucian feminine virtues. State recognition of Manchu women’s fidelity implied that Manchu women were as virtuous as the Han.28 While the Ming celebration of widow chastity and suicide was closely tied to the literary quality of qing, the Qing chastity cult was marked by increasing state control. The state claimed sole authority to determine whether a particular widow suicide was virtuous (done to avoid certain dishonor) or irresponsible (an emotional response carried out with no regard for children or in-laws). 29 Part of this increased state control was the promotion of female chastity in certain border regions, particularly the Southwest, based on the belief that women



L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA S T I T Y 

115

there were wild and promiscuous. Female chastity was a mark of Chinese civilization and a central part of the Ming and Qing civilizing projects. A perceived lack of sexual propriety among barbarian women was even used to justify imperial expansion.30 In Qing-dynasty Yunnan, the same people responsible for carrying out broader civilizing projects were also responsible for promoting widow fidelity specifically. Ortai received the Yongzheng emperor’s approval to grant special honors to the families of women who martyred themselves in bandit attacks in  the South.31 Chen Hongmou saw the chastity cult as a necessary component in civilizing the frontier barbarians and pushed his subordinates in these regions to find virtuous women and nominate them for state honors.32 Qingdynasty gazetteers of Dali invoke the correlation of widow fidelity and political loyalty in presenting many “heroic women” who committed suicide rather than be raped by rebellious bandits. For example, the Kangxi-era Dali fuzhi (Dali Prefecture gazetteer) devotes a section to women who died in the events of 1646–1659, when Ming loyalists were still fighting for control of Yunnan. A “Miss Min” tried to escape loyalist forces by taking a boat to the other side of the lake, but jumped in the lake and drowned when she saw them following her.33 Though there are changes in the chastity cult from the Yuan through the Qing dynasties, it remains an area in which gender and ethnicity are mutually constitutive. Widow fidelity signifies Chinese culture and advanced civilization, while infidelity and lack of sexual inhibition signify barbarism. Women’s sexuality was correlated to ethnocultural identity much earlier in Chinese history, as we see in Tang records about Nanzhao, but the increasing importance of chastity and fidelity in the late imperial period makes this correlation even stronger. Moreover, starting with the Mongol conquest the empires based in Beijing and Nanjing had more direct control over “barbarian” regions in the Southwest, making the elevation of morals in these regions of greater concern to the government. Baijie Furen’s legend emerges in relation to these interconnected trends of the chastity cult and civilizing projects. More than simply reflecting this greater context, the legend is one of the ways in which civilizing projects and the chastity cult were carried out in Dali.

Dying for Virtue: The Legend of Baijie Furen

The legend of Baijie Furen is set in the period when the Nanzhao kingdom defeats its five regional rivals to consolidate power in the Dali plain. However, no records from the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms include it. This legend first

116

L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA ST I T Y

appears in the Yuan dynasty and grows in popularity through the Ming and Qing. As the legend develops, it gathers more and more details and connects its heroine to more and more figures (including the name “Baijie” in the nineteenth century). “O N E WOM A N D O E S N O T M A R RY T WO H U SBA N D S” : T H E Y UA N P R E C E D E N T

The earliest account of the legend appears in the Yuan-dynasty Ji gu Dian shuo ji. Cishan is married to the ruler of Dengdan kingdom, one of the six zhao polities that ruled the Dali area until the Nanzhao conquest and unification. The story is set in the wake of the Nanzhao king’s initial conquest of Dengdan, when Cishan has retreated inside the capital city wall: Ten li to the east of Dengchuan there was the Dengdan ruler’s wife, named ­Cishan. Because the kingdom had already been subjugated, Cishan built a city wall and fortified it. The Divine Martial King [Shenwu wang, i.e., Geluofeng] personally led an army to try to take her as his wife, but Cishan was steadfast and did not comply. She made an oath, saying that one woman does not marry two husbands, and stayed within the city to guard it herself. The king led soldiers to attack but they were not victorious. When Cishan died, the king praised her virtue. He granted her capital the title “City of Virtue’s Source” [Deyuancheng] and repaired it.34

This version of the story is skeletal in comparison to the versions that develop in the Ming and Qing, but Cishan’s fidelity already takes center stage, and there is a correlation between her fidelity to her (presumably deceased) husband and her refusal to submit politically to the Nanzhao ruler. These themes continue in later versions, but in the Ming new details change the story significantly. BU R N I N G P I N E R E SI N T OW E R : M I N G D EV E L O P M E N T S

By the sixteenth century a much more detailed version of the legend had appeared, at least one shrine had been established for Cishan, and local literati had begun to memorialize her life and legend in verse. Ming records also connect Cishan to other local and translocal figures that help locate her on a semiotic map. Two local gazetteers from the late sixteenth century present the first detailed account of the Cishan legend with several new plot points. Both the Jiajing-era (1522–1566) Dali fuzhi and Wanli-era (1573–1620) Yunnan tongzhi



L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA S T I T Y 

117

were edited by Li Yuanyang, a native of Taihe who served as an official at the Ming court and in the provinces of Jiangsu and Hubei.35 As a Dali native, he probably would have been familiar with local legends and regional histories such as the Bai gu tongji. The two gazetteers recount the same version of the Cishan legend: The City of Virtue’s Source is to the east of the Dengchuan Subprefecture seat. At the time of the Six Kingdoms, during the Tang, the Dengdan kingdom was located there. Since Nanzhao was the strongest kingdom, its ruler wanted to conquer and absorb the other five kingdoms. On the twenty-fifth day of the sixth lunar month, the date of the Star-Returning Festival, the Nanzhao ruler invited the rulers of the other five kingdoms to a banquet. Cishan, the wife of the Dengdan ruler, was a wise woman. She foresaw the Nanzhao ruler’s plot and told her husband not to go. Her husband said, “Under the circumstances I cannot [refuse].” She thus made an iron bracelet and fastened it on his arm, warning him as he left. As expected, the Nanzhao ruler set a fire, and the rulers of the other five kingdoms became ashes. The Nanzhao ruler lied, saying, “The five rulers burned to death because they were drunk and lost control of the fire.” There was no way to identify the remains of the [other] rulers; only Cishan rode off with her husband’s corpse. When the Nanzhao ruler heard of her wisdom he wanted to force her to become his wife. Cishan feigned agreement, saying, “Wait one hundred days after I bury my husband, then I will marry you.” She then closed the city gates and shut herself inside. The Nanzhao ruler dispatched troops to surround her, and she responded, “I will never forget that you are my husband’s enemy.” After three months her food ran out, so she straightened her attire, faced west, tied herself to a chair, and eventually died of hunger. As she neared death, she said, “I am going to tell the Supreme Deity [Shangdi] of the injustice done to my husband.” When the Nanzhao ruler heard of this, he said with regret, “I mistakenly pressured this chaste woman.” He then gave her city the honorific title “City of Virtue’s Source.”36

Several new elements appear in this version of the Cishan legend: the Nanzhao ruler destroys his opposition through a clever ruse rather than protracted fighting; the date of the ill-fated banquet is identified as the Star-Returning Festival; Cishan is smart enough to see through the Nanzhao king’s deception and ensure that her husband will at least have a proper burial; and she makes the conscious decision to die rather than submit to her husband’s killer.

118

L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA ST I T Y

Still more details appear in the Nanzhao yeshi. Here, the Nanzhao king (identified as Piluoge) bribes the Jianchuan military commissioner Wang Yu to get Tang support for his military campaign to “unify” the Dali region. Having secured this support, Piluoge builds the highly flammable Pine Resin Tower (Songming lou) and invites his five rivals to make offerings to their shared ancestors on the Star-Returning Festival (here dated to the twenty-fourth day of the sixth lunar month). The rest of the story differs slightly in the details: ­Cishan’s husband has the name Piluodeng; Cishan commits suicide by an unspecified method after only half a month of Piluoge’s siege; the date of her suicide is the twenty-third day of the seventh lunar month; and Piluoge posthumously enfeoffs her as Ningbei fei, “Consort of Pacifying the North.”37 D OU B L E V I RT U E : C I SHA N , M E N G J IA N G N Ü, A N D L A DY A’ NA N

The new details in Ming-dynasty sources flesh out the story in a way that identifies Cishan paradigmatically with two other figures. One is also connected to Cishan syntagmatically, as they appear together in Ming (and Qing) records; one is connected to Cishan through the structural similarities in their legends. The first figure ties Cishan to local history, while the second locates her in a pan-Chinese cultural system. The legend of A’nan Furen, “Lady A’nan,” was first recorded in the “exemplary women” section of the Wanli Yunnan tongzhi: A’nan from the Han: wife of the chieftain Man A’nu. Her husband was killed by the Han deputy general Guo Shizong, who wanted to marry her and gave her a gift of clothing and chopsticks. A’nan feared that he would force her, so she deceived him, saying, “I want to agree to my lord, but can my lord agree to do three things for me?” He said, “I agree.” She said, “First you must build a tent to make offerings for my late husband; second you must burn my late husband’s clothes so that I can change into my lord’s new clothes; third, you must let the people of the kingdom all know that I am marrying you in accordance with the rites.” The next day, as she instructed, he gathered the people of the kingdom, unfurled the tent, and started a fire beneath it. A’nan, a knife hidden in her sleeve, emerged to stoke the fire and burn her late husband’s clothing. She proclaimed, “I am willing to take revenge with my life!,” then pulled out the knife and killed herself, her body falling into the flames. The people of the kingdom grieved over her death, and every year on that day they burned torches and gathered



L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA S T I T Y 

119

to mourn her. Later people called this day the Star-Returning Festival, and the Nanzhao king also set a fire on this day to destroy the Six Kingdoms. Some people think the Star-Returning Festival started with the destruction of the Six Kingdoms, but this is not true. (From the Nanzhao tongji.)38

This story doubles the structure of the Cishan legend: a woman’s husband is murdered by a rival authority, the rival wants to marry the woman, and the woman commits suicide rather than submit to his advances. Major events in the story are connected to the Star-Returning Festival. There are also important differences between the legends of A’nan and Cishan: whereas the villain of the Cishan legend was the Nanzhao ruler, in the legend of A’nan it is a Han official who plays this role. It is this Chinese representative who violates propriety by killing the local chieftain and trying to marry his wife; unlike the Nanzhao ruler, Guo Shizong (later Shizhong) displays no remorse after A’nan martyrs herself. Considering that the Han dynasty established commanderies in Yunnan, the legend of A’nan could be read as a critique of the imperial presence there that became more pronounced in the Ming and Qing. The Star-Returning Festival mentioned in the legends of Cishan and A’nan also connects the tales to the Yunnan region. This festival was celebrated throughout central Yunnan on the twenty-fourth or twenty-fifth day of the sixth lunar month; on account of its central practice of lighting torches, it also came to be known as the Torch Festival (Huoba jie), which is how people refer to it today. Despite the claim that the festival arose to honor A’nan, the earliest references to the festival make no mention of widow martyrs. The term “star-returning” refers to the stars returning to their original positions after a year has passed and could thus refer to the new year.39 A tenth-century record indicates that it was celebrated on the sixteenth day of the twelfth lunar month under the Nanzhao kingdom.40 By the Yuan dynasty, the Star-Returning Festival was celebrated in the sixth month in a way similar to its observance today. Li Jing writes in the Yunnan zhilue (Brief gazetteer of Yunnan), “On the twenty-fourth day of the sixth month, all night long torches tied to tall poles illuminate the sky. Each young boy holds a pine resin torch and they burn each other for fun, calling this ‘driving out misfortune.’”41 It is unclear how the Star-Returning Festival began, but regardless of its actual origins, by the Ming dynasty it was connected to different regional legends. In addition to the legends of Cishan and A’nan, Ming (and Qing) sources attributed the festival’s origins to the martyrdom of the Ming official Wang Yi

120

L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA ST I T Y

at the hands of the Mongol Prince of Liang and to Zhuge Liang’s capture of the local ruler Meng Huo.42 However, the legends of Cishan and A’nan came to overshadow these other explanations, especially in Dali. At least fifteen poems from the Ming and Qing connect the festival to Cishan and/or A’nan, and the festival was the primary occasion for composing poems honoring these widow martyrs. For example, the anonymous poem “Xinghui jie,” first recorded in a Kangxi-era gazetteer, explains the festival as a way of commemorating Cishan’s sacrifice.43 Cishan’s connection to the Star-Returning Festival rooted her legend temporally in Dali’s annual calendar, which is one of the factors that explains her increasing prominence during the Ming and Qing. Though the Star-Returning Festival was tied more strongly to A’nan in earlier sources, by the Qing dynasty Cishan had overshadowed her double. The spread of the chastity cult is one reason for the Star-Returning Festival to become more closely connected to a widow martyr figure in the late imperial period, but it seems that the practice of lighting torches during the festival resonated with the plot point of burning Pine Resin Tower in Cishan’s legend. Cishan and A’nan’s ties to the Star-Returning Festival reinforced their local and regional identities, but for people conversant with narrative traditions from eastern China, their legends would have had a familiar ring. Though no authors make this connection in extant records, there are clear similarities between these two widow martyr tales from Dali and the legend of Meng Jiangnü bringing down part of the Great Wall with her tears. Meng Jiangnü’s story has a circuitous history, with many transformations since its first appearance in the Zuozhuan (Zuo commentary). Before the Ming and Qing it had already taken on a form that presaged the stories of Cishan and A’nan. The notorious first emperor of the Qin dynasty (221–206 BCE) conscripted Meng Jiangnü’s husband to build the Great Wall. When Meng Jiangnü had not heard news from her husband for a while, she traveled there herself to find him. Upon her arrival she learned he had died working on the wall, and she wept so sincerely and piteously that a section of the wall came crumbling down and exposed the bones buried within. There was no way to know which bones belonged to her husband, so she pricked her finger and vowed that her husband’s bones would be the ones that absorbed her blood. She was able to recover her husband’s remains in this manner in hopes of giving him a proper burial. However, her beauty and virtue had entranced the Qin emperor, who asked her to become his wife. Meng Jiangnü feigned agreement as long as the Qin emperor



L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA S T I T Y 

121

promised to conduct proper funeral rites for her husband. He conceded, but when the rites were completed Meng Jiangnü jumped into the grave with her husband and died.44 Meng Jiangnü’s legend presents another woman whose husband perishes at the hands of an immoral ruler who transgresses propriety by trying to marry the widow before her husband’s body has been properly buried. Meng Jiangnü’s method of identifying her husband’s remains echoes Cishan’s use of the iron bracelet, while her feigned acceptance of the Qin emperor’s proposal appears in both the Cishan and A’nan legends. Her eventual suicide takes different forms in different versions but aligns with the ultimate ends of Cishan and A’nan. The main difference between the legend of Meng Jiangnü and those of Cishan and A’nan is that the latter concern the wives of political authorities, while Meng Jiangnü’s husband is a poor conscript. Cishan’s and A’nan’s fidelity to their late husbands thus signifies political loyalty in a way that Meng Jiangnü’s fidelity does not. Even with this significant disparity, it is hard to imagine that the legends of Cishan and A’nan developed completely independently of the Meng Jiangnü legend, which by the Ming had spread throughout China in different versions and different genres. Just as the legend of Baijie Amei developed in relation to dragon tales from the classical Chinese tradition as well as the regional Shayi story, so too did the legends of Cishan and A’nan develop in relation to the panChinese Meng Jiangnü legend. The paradigmatic identification of Cishan with Meng Jiangnü takes her beyond a strictly local identity: her legend takes place in Dali under an independent regime and is tied to a regional festival, but her resonance with Meng Jiangnü places her within a Chinese system of signification. D E AT H B Y D R OW N I N G : Q I N G T R A N SF O R M AT IO N S O F T H E C I SHA N L E G E N D

Cishan’s legend continues to transform during the Qing dynasty. The two biggest changes are her manner of death and her identification with the name Baijie, both of which occur in the nineteenth century. The former change ties Cishan more to translocal figures, while the latter roots her more in the Dali region. Each change can be explained in relation to translocal and local forces at work in late imperial Dali. Until the nineteenth century most accounts of Cishan’s legend end with her suicide by starvation. In the nineteenth century, however, this shifts to suicide by drowning: she jumps into a well after her food runs out during Piluoge’s

122

L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA ST I T Y

siege of Dengdan.45 This prefigures the modern legend of Baijie Furen, in which she dies by drowning in Er Lake. Drowning begins to replace starvation in Qing versions of the Cishan legend because of Cishan’s increasing connection not only to the Star-Returning Festival but also to a festival held on the twenty-third day of the seventh lunar month that involved dragon boats. The Nanzhao yeshi already identified the twenty-third of the seventh month as the day of Cishan’s death, and in the early Qing we learn that every year on this day people race dragon boats to mourn her.46 It appears that Cishan’s legend transformed after people had tied her to this festival: given the connection to dragon boats, it makes more sense for the heroine to have died by drowning rather than starvation. Commemorating a martyr’s drowning death by racing dragon boats recalls the Double-Five Festival (Duanwu jie) that honors Qu Yuan, and in fact several sources compare Cishan’s martyrdom to those of Qu Yuan and other wellknown male martyrs from the classical Chinese tradition. In Dian kao, Feng Su writes, “Alas! Jie Zitui died and we still have the Cold Food [Festival]; Qu Lingjun [i.e., Qu Yuan] died and we still have boat races. Their loyalty and righteousness have not been forgotten. Cishan deserves to survive through the StarReturning Festival!”47 The anonymous Kangxi-era poem “Xinghui jie” compares Cishan’s virtuous death to those of two male Tang martyrs, Zhang Xun and Xu Yuan, and her willingness to endure hunger to the actions of the Shang loyalists Bo Yi and Shu Qi.48 These comparisons constellate Cishan among male moral exemplars and place her on equal footing, but such comparisons also accentuate the ways in which Cishan is unlike these male exemplars in her gender and “barbarian” origins. Locating Cishan in translocal systems of signification can in fact underscore her local identity. The shift from the name Cishan to the name Baijie engages local forces, as the shift identifies the widow martyr with the local figures called Baijie, but it also engages translocal forces in that the widow martyr Baijie is written as “cypress chastity.” “Cypress chastity” alludes to the poem “Cypress Boat” (bai zhou) in the Shijing (Book of odes), in which the cypress boat symbolizes a woman’s chastity.49 The Ming-dynasty poem “Deng Deyuancheng yougan” (Being moved upon climbing to the City of Virtue’s Source), written by the local jinshi Yang Nanjin (who also served as a censor at the Ming court), invokes this image: “The iron bracelet did not burn in the pine fire; the heart as pure as ice naturally swears cypress boat chastity [bai zhou zhen].”50 This locates Cishan’s virtue within a feminine moral paradigm from classical Chinese tradition.



L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA S T I T Y 

123

It is the connection between the cypress boat and Cishan’s martyrdom that precipitates her name change to Baijie, and the homophony of the “Cypress Chastity” Baijie and “White Sister” Baijie that leads to the conflation of these two figures. Records from Langqiong, the area between Dengchuan and Jian­chuan to the northwest of the Dali plain, are key to understanding this transformation. Kangxi-era gazetteers located a “White Sister Temple” to the south of the county seat and recorded a poem about Lang­qiong’s scenery that included the line “To this day Baijie [White Sister] remains the face of the temple.”51 However, the Daoguang-era (1821–1850) Langqiong xianzhi (Lang­ qiong County gazetteer) includes an entry for the “Cypress Chastity Shrine” that begins with the line “The Cypress Chastity Shrine is about one li south of the city, [and its deity is] Lady Cishan, wife of the Dengdan ruler.”52 The same text reproduces a poem by the Kunming native Xie Qiong titled “Guo Baijie ci diao Cishan Furen” (Passing by the shrine of Cypress Chastity and mourning Lady Cishan).53 It seems the Kangxi-era White Sister Baijie Temple and Daoguang-era Cypress Chastity Baijie Shrine are one and the same. Around the same time this temple name changed to “Cypress Chastity Shrine,” another source explicitly conflated the widow martyr with the name “Holy Consort White Sister” used for the Buddhist Baijie. In the Daoguangera Nanzhao shijia (Great families of Nanzhao), Wang Song recounts different versions of the Nanzhao conquest of the Dali region and notes that the story of Pine Resin Tower is missing from many texts. In reconciling the contradictory accounts he addresses the issue of different names for the widow martyr: “The Ningbei Consort was Lady Cishan. At present the people of Taihe, Dengchuan, and Langqiong have all erected temples to worship her. She is also called Holy Consort White Sister [Baijie Shengfei].”54 Here Cishan is not only called Baijie Shengfei; the characters used for “Baijie” are the ones for the Buddhist goddess and Duan Siping’s mother. By the late Qing dynasty, Cishan’s legend had expanded to connect the widow martyr to the local figures A’nan and Baijie Shengfei, and to translocal figures such as Meng Jiangnü and Qu Yuan. The example of Cishan illustrates how translocal forces are localized and how local figures belong to translocal systems of signification. Cishan’s widow martyr identity marks her as a feminine moral exemplar for people throughout Ming and Qing territory, but her local identity marks her as a “barbarian” and ties her to the history of the Nanzhao kingdom. Gender, ethnocultural identity, locality, and politics intersect in her legend to create a polysemic figure that people invoked to present Dali

124

L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA ST I T Y

as a long-civilized region with an independent history or to justify civilizing projects on the grounds that even a barbarian woman of the distant past could master Confucian virtue.

Efficacious Exemplar: Shrines and Temples for Cishan/Baijie Furen

Local and nonlocal authors took up the figure of Cishan in writings about the two festivals that commemorated her story and records of her shrines and temples throughout the Dali region. These sources show how male elites in Ming and Qing Dali represented collective identities through the gendered symbolism of Cishan/Baijie Furen. All of the authors agree that Cishan/Baijie Furen should be celebrated, but they foreground different elements of her polysemic identity and legend. Some materials from the Ming and Qing also hint at how Cishan/Baijie Furen was treated beyond the small group of male elites who left written records. State support of the faithful widow cult in the Ming and Qing involved enshrining such women to improve public morals. Faithful widows were exemplars to be followed, and government officials could shut down shrines if people were treating a moral exemplar as an efficacious deity by praying to her.55 However, the line between exemplar and goddess was often blurry, and many officials participated in the worship of efficacious deities. No records from the Ming and Qing mention official opposition to Cishan’s efficacy, but there are consistent differences in writings that foreground her role as an exemplar and those that foreground her role as a goddess. The earliest references to temples honoring Cishan appear in seventeenthcentury gazetteers. The Wanli-era Yunnan tongzhi includes the following entry in its “Popular Shrines” section: “The Chastity Shrine [zhenjie ci] is located on a ridge in Dayou Village, six li east of the subprefecture seat. It is the shrine for Cishan, wife of the Dengdan ruler.”56 By the Kangxi era other texts presented such shrines, and Cishan herself, as important for the moral education of Dali women. According to the “Customs” section in the Kangxi-era Dali fuzhi: It is recorded that Cishan, wife of the Deng[dan] ruler, died for her virtue on the twenty-third day of the seventh month. To this day the people of Taihe, Deng[chuan], and Lang[qiong] race dragon boats to mourn her. This is said to have the same meaning as burning pine torches on the twenty-fifth day of the sixth month to mourn A’nan. Therefore shrines should be built for these two



L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA S T I T Y 

125

people and offerings made to them so that the women of this commandery will look up to them and be moved to emulate their chaste spirit. This is one aspect of encouraging proper customs.57

Building shrines for widow martyrs to encourage good morals was common throughout Ming and Qing territory, but other records concerning Cishan explicitly address the disparity between her virtue and her environment. The same Kangxi-era Dali fuzhi introduces its “Heroic Women” section with a passage on the exceptional virtue of Cishan and A’nan: Among the people of Yu Commandery, not only men possess a virtuous character and tough spirit; many women have them too. For example, A’nan of the Han, Cishan of the Tang, and Qiangna of the Yuan either refused to serve their husband’s enemy or took revenge on their father’s enemy.58 This is difficult for the noblest of men, let alone these ladies who were born among the border barbarians. Their achievements have not disappeared. Gentlemen study their stories, women admire their subtlety. They are added to China’s cultural education.59

F IG U R E 4 . 1 .  

Baijie Furen and Husband, City of Virtue’s Source

126

L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA ST I T Y

This introductory section ends by noting that the court has ordered officials throughout the empire to record accounts of local women in the mold of the “Cypress Boat” poem to bring their otherwise hidden virtue to light. As the passage suggests, this project means something different among the “border barbarians,” who are presented as being less likely to both display and remember such virtues. In Dali, enshrining and commemorating Cishan is necessary to counteract the nature of the place and people. Two other Qing records contrast Cishan’s civilized virtue with the barbarous climate in which she lived. The Qing official and Zhejiang native Feng Su (1628–1692) composed the 1671 Cishan fei miao ji (Record of the Consort Kindness Temple), an account of the temple at the legendary site of Cishan’s sacrifice. Feng wrote: The origins of the Six Kingdoms are mysterious, but they were certainly a kind of barbarian. One cannot count the number of times these Miao barbarian brothers destroyed each other and seized each other’s wives.60 In the beginning they did not know the value of chastity, the Consort’s wisdom died without being preserved by the clan, and the husband and wife died in succession, so [the story] should have been lost in the passage of time like barbarian clouds and miasmic rain [manyan zhangyu]. How was it that the meaning [of her deeds] was passed down and she enjoyed the sacrificial rites to the present day? The records of Dian are incomplete, few scholars have seen the Bai gu tong[ji], and no erudite gentlemen have inscribed these events in the Consort’s temple. The entire story of her virtuous death has been orally transmitted only by the people of Deng[chuan] and has survived through the Song, Yuan, and Ming without being lost.61

Feng marvels that Cishan’s memory has survived the “barbarian clouds and miasmic rain” and explains his temple record as a way to further publicize her example. We find the same sentiment in the commentary on the Cishan entry in the Xianfeng-era Dengchuan zhouzhi: The Consort is the originator of chastity in Deng Town. She and A’nan of Yeyu reflect each other’s glory in historical succession. The immoral folk who would suppress the Consort are stubborn and only record her chastity. I see her warning her husband against going [to Pine Resin Tower] as benevolence, affixing the iron bracelet as wisdom, returning to bury her husband as propriety, and closing off the city to guard it as courage and righteousness. When she ran out of



L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA S T I T Y 

127

strategies and strength, the only option was death. . . . From the Han to the Yuan the righteous officials and chaste women of each generation have been erased by the barbarian clouds and miasmic rain. Only the foundation of Virtue’s Source stands firm, eternal as the mountains. Alas! The Consort was unlucky to be born and raised in the southern wilderness!62

Here Cishan exemplifies not only chastity but also the five Confucian virtues of benevolence, wisdom, propriety, courage, and righteousness. For such an exceptional figure to come from the “southern wilderness” and somehow withstand the “barbarian clouds and miasmic rain” is remarkable. Accounts of exemplary women already present them as exceptional because women were seen as morally weaker than men. Faithful widows and widow martyrs served not just as role models for other women; they could also shame men for failing to live up to their example. As the Kangxi-era Dali fuzhi notes, choosing death over dishonor “is difficult for the noblest of men, let alone these ladies who were born among the border barbarians.” This statement incorporates another facet of identity that makes Cishan still more exceptional, that of civilization versus barbarism. Both Qing texts that use the phrase “barbarian clouds and miasmic rain” allude to the belief that the civilized-barbarian spectrum did not operate solely in the realm of culture but belonged to the natural world, too. Civilized people could not survive in the pestilential climate of the Deep South, but barbarians were at home there. Cishan is doubly exceptional for being a virtuous woman from such an uncivilized place. The Ming and Qing records that laud Cishan’s virtuous example and call for shrines in her honor are part of the imperial civilizing project in that they appear in gazetteers or, in the case of Feng Su’s temple record, were written by a Qing official. The Kangxi-era Dali fuzhi even refers to the imperial mandate to find and recognize virtuous women throughout the empire. Cishan’s legend suited the needs of the civilizing project well: she provided support for the argument that barbarians could become civilized, which justified the project as a whole, but her exceptional nature meant that she did not threaten the notion that people in Dali needed to be civilized. When these sources describe Cishan and her shrines, there is no indication that she is anything but a moral exemplar. The officials who wrote about her make no mention of her efficacy in their entries about her temple in Deng­ chuan or her role as a “heroic woman.” However, entries in two gazetteers sug-

128

L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA ST I T Y

gest that she had come to be seen as efficacious as early as the Kangxi period. The Heqing fuzhi (Heqing Prefecture gazetteer) and Jianchuan zhouzhi (Jian­ chuan Subprefecture gazetteer) describe her temple in Jianchuan: Ningbo Consort: This temple is one-and-a-half li west of the county seat. Its deity is said to be Cishan, and she is most efficacious [zui lingyi]. The temple used to be called a shrine. Once the Consort emerged to bathe in the pond in front of the temple, and when a local man saw her, she said, “If you do not reveal this, I will grant you whatever extraordinary power you desire.” He said, “I wish to be able to summon wind and rain.” The Consort granted him a staff, whereupon he obtained the power he prayed for and could cause it to not rain on one side of a wall [while it was raining on the other side]. He was said to be none other than Zhang Daoyu.63

Cishan’s virtue is not mentioned at all in this passage, which presents her as a responsive rain deity. Baijie Shengfei was also known as a rain goddess in Jianchuan in the Ming and Qing, and their shared role may have laid the groundwork for their eventual identification. This record suggests that Cishan played a larger role as an efficacious goddess during the Ming and Qing, even if most sources do not mention it. Her current role as a tutelary village deity probably resembles the role she played for most people in Ming-Qing Dali, especially as her identity supplanted that of Baijie Shengfei in the latter’s temples. The relationship between Cishan’s roles as exemplar and goddess is more complex than it might initially appear. Officials such as Feng Su and the authors of local gazetteers did not mention Cishan’s efficacy, but this does not mean that they opposed her role as a goddess. State officials often took part in local religious practices, even those practices forbidden under imperial law.64 Similarly, the worship of Cishan as a goddess was probably not an expression of resistance to the imperial state. It is more likely that most people did not distinguish between exemplars and goddesses and saw no problem in asking a widow martyr for rain during a dry spell. Those who did distinguish between exemplars and goddesses may not have suppressed Cishan’s apotheosis, but they did not include it in their official records. Writings about shrines to Cishan appear in official gazetteers and the work of imperial representatives such as Feng Su, but Qing sources indicate that it was local degree-holders who sponsored the construction and repair of her shrines.65 Though these local elites did not leave their own records explaining why they built shrines for Cishan, it seems likely that they viewed her as a local figure



L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA S T I T Y 

129

whose memory they wanted to safeguard. This comes through most clearly in the writings about Cishan that local elites did leave, which consist mainly of poems written on the occasion of the Star-Returning (or Torch) Festival.

Fondly Remembering the Past: Cishan/Baijie Furen and Local History

Dividing sources on Cishan into local and nonlocal authors does not result in a clear-cut demarcation between records that contrast her virtue with the barbaric environment and those that present her as a symbol of Dali’s independent history. Local elites participated in compiling and editing local gazetteers, and gazetteers included local literature, especially poetry. Degree-holders from Dali served as officials elsewhere in the empire, and many traced their ancestry to eastern China. Though gazetteers included sections on ethnicity, they did not identify the ethnicity of individual authors (as is customary under the PRC), which makes it impossible to know how the men writing about Cishan and the Star-Returning Festival represented themselves. As with the records about ­Cishan’s temples and role as “heroic woman,” poems written on the StarReturning Festival do not fall into a clear binary of oppression and resistance but emphasize certain aspects of Cishan’s identity over others. Twenty poems about the Star-Returning Festival and/or Cishan survive from the Ming and Qing dynasties. Of these, thirteen were written by people from the Dali region, especially the areas of Dengchuan, Langqiong, and Taihe; three were written by people from the Kunming region; one was written by an official from Guangdong; and three were anonymous. Though most of the poems were written on the Star-Returning Festival, many authors came from the site of Cishan’s legendary deeds, which lends both a temporal and spatial dimension to their writings about her. Cishan may come from the distant past, but the Star-Returning Festival keeps her memory alive, and she hails from the immediate Dali area. Poems about Cishan and/or the Star-Returning Festival mention Cishan’s (and often A’nan’s) legend, especially her virtue, and locate the legend in Dali’s history by referring to the Nanzhao kingdom. These poems often contrast the ancient setting of Cishan’s tale with the present but also portray the moral of her tale as a constant thread linking these two points in time. Yang Nanjin’s aforementioned “Deng Deyuancheng yougan” illustrates this: Ascending the mountain with slow steps I reach the isolated city; arriving at the peak I take in the view and my emotions stir.

130

L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA ST I T Y

The iron bracelet did not burn with the pine fire; the heart pure as ice naturally swears cypress boat chastity. The traces of wells are hidden, lost in the weeds; but the mountain still rises over the old encampment. A thousand years after the Meng kingdom ashes flew, bamboo records still record the name “Virtue’s Source.”66

This poem compares the survival of Cishan’s legend to the iron bracelet she gave her husband and suggests that her virtue—cypress boat chastity—is eternal. Xu Jingyang, a zengsheng graduate from Zhaozhou, expresses the same sentiment in his poem “Xinghui jie diaogu” (Mourning the past on the StarReturning Festival): In those years Nanzhao was very ruthless and powerful; they set the plan to swallow territory and dared to act aggressively and spontaneously. When their heroic energy ran out, Pine Tower had burned; news of the virtue and righteousness remained with the fragrance of the iron bracelet. The lit torch reached the heavens, its light never dimming; in mountain villages they play pipes, the sound coming from the reeds. I humbly ask my elderly neighbor about the matters of rise and fall; Duan Hall and Meng Palace are like the setting sun.67

Xu, like Yang Nanjin, contrasts the constancy of Cishan’s virtue to the transience of history, specifically the history of the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms, whose ruling clans are compared to the setting sun in the last line. However, neither Xu nor Yang expresses incredulity that Cishan’s story occurred and survived in such a “barbarous” environment. In fact, the only poems that mention “barbarians” are those written by authors from outside Dali, as well as one of the anonymous poems. Chen Zhao­tang, the department magistrate (zhizhou) of Zhaozhou, who hailed from Guangdong, included in his poem “Xinghui jie diao Anan ji Cishan furen” (Mourning Lady Cishan and A’nan on the Star-Returning Festival) the line “After the southern barbarians [nanman] each drew their borders, the strongest among them was Piluoge.”68 Wang Sixun of Kunming included Cishan’s story in his series Shu gushi shi’er shou (Twelve poems on ancient history) and wrote of the “barbarian slave bracelet” (mannu chuan) she gave to her husband.69 These authors do not go so far as to explicitly contrast Cishan’s virtue with her environment, but their use of the term “barbarian” for the Nanzhao kingdom, and Cishan specifically, implicitly contrasts Dali’s history with that of “civilized” Chinese territory.



L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA S T I T Y 

131

In addition to the poems that use the term “barbarian,” there are other poems that foreground the violent imagery of the Star-Returning Festival, namely, lighting torches, drinking to intoxication, and eating raw meat. For example, the poem “Xinghui jie” by the Zhaozhou native and 1699 juren Shi Lianggong begins: In the time of the five zhao kingdoms she left him the iron bracelet; she heard that there would be a banquet up in Pine Resin Tower. To this day the ashes of death still blaze anew; their scattered, chilling light can sometimes be glimpsed. Myriad households light pine fires deep in the mountains; the pine fire glow illuminates drunk faces.70

This presents the Star-Returning Festival as a reenactment of Cishan’s legend: the torches people light in celebration signify the burning of Pine Resin Tower, while the celebrants’ intoxication recalls the drunken revelry of the five zhao rulers before their deaths. Two poems from Qing gazetteers describe the practice of eating raw meat on the Star-Returning Festival. The anonymous poem “Xinghui jie” compares this practice to Cishan’s vengeance: “They also boldly raise torches and even eat raw [meat], / the reflected blaze helping to mourn the Lady. / As blood flowed she vowed to gnaw her enemy’s flesh; / he is flayed and eaten alive throughout the valley.”71 Another reference to eating raw meat appears in a poem by the Zhaozhou local and 1739 bagong degree-holder Gong Xirui. Gong’s poem “Xinghui jie” gives a brief description of the celebration after the title: “On the evening of the twenty-fifth of the sixth month, local people burn torches and eat raw pork. It is said that [the festival] is for Cishan’s revenge.”72 The poem starts with the line “Eating raw meat is like gnawing an enemy’s bones; / all households burn torches to mourn the chaste women. / The red glow scatters all over the ground, becoming stars; / amidst the phosphorescence there are skulls and blood.”73 Eating raw meat was a marker of barbarism in historical records: as early as the Liji, Chinese authors noted that among the various barbarians were those who “did not cook their food with fire.”74 References to the practice in Dali appear as early as the Tang/Nanzhao. The Man shu gives the following description of eating habits in Dali: “They take raw goose and prepare it with the mincing method, slicing it into one-cun squares and eating it with cucumber and pepper. This is called goose que, and in local custom it is considered to be delicious.”75 Elsewhere it states, “Barbarians do not wait for meat to be cooked, they

132

L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA ST I T Y

all eat it half raw.”76 Li Jing’s Yunnan zhilue corroborates this in the Yuan: “[The Bai] prize raw food. They pickle raw pork, beef, chicken, and fish, mix it with garlic paste, and eat it.”77 Even if the two poems that describe eating raw meat on the Star-Returning Festival to commemorate Cishan’s legend do not explicitly label Dali as “barbarian,” eating raw meat would have signified barbarism to the poems’ audience. However, unlike the poems by nonlocal authors that depict Cishan’s virtue as unusual and exceptional by characterizing her environment as “barbaric,” the poems that mention the consumption of raw meat make the “barbaric” practice a symbol of Cishan’s righteous vengeance rather than a point of contrast. Ming and Qing poems about Cishan, especially in connection to the StarReturning Festival, present her story as being at once remote and immediate. However, there are subtle differences in how locals and nonlocals emphasize this relationship with Dali’s history. Nonlocal authors are more likely to contrast Cishan’s virtue with her historical and cultural context, while local authors tend to present them as integrated. When local authors mention specific regimes, they are more likely to recall Dali’s independent history in referring to the five or six zhao kingdoms, the Duan and Meng rulers of the Dali and Nanzhao kingdoms, or Nanzhao itself, while three of the four poems by nonlocal authors locate A’nan’s and Cishan’s stories in the Han and Tang, respectively. The differences between poems written by locals and those written by nonlocals are subtle, in ways related to Cishan’s polysemic nature. There is no indication that local elites who wrote about Cishan harbored fantasies of independence from the Ming and Qing empires, and the inclusion of their poems in official gazetteers suggests that the poems mentioning the Nanzhao kingdom were not read as seditious. At the same time, local authors are more likely to refer to Dali’s independent history and present Cishan as an integral part of that history. For local authors, Cishan proves that people in Dali had known Confucian virtues for centuries, and she therefore signifies continuity with Dali’s past. Poems about Cishan allow local authors to identify with Dali’s local history and with broader Chinese tradition in a way that smooths over the barbarian-Chinese binary.

Conclusions: Gender and Ethnicity Intertwined

By the Qing dynasty several records use “Bai” as an ethnic label. Gazetteers, unofficial records, and official histories describe the people alternately called “Bai,” “Bo,” or “Minjia” as the descendants of the ancient Bai kingdom who possess a



L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA S T I T Y 

133

shared culture. Bai culture is generally seen as similar to Chinese culture, and some sources allow that the Bai might have Chinese ancestry; but Qing authors reinforce the distinction between Bai and Han in which the Bai remain “barbarians.” Shi Tongkui, the Buddhist monk from Guangxi who wrote the ­Erhai congtan, observes that “the Minjia all talk in barbarian language [manyu].”78 Qing records also describe the Bai as especially devoted to Buddhism owing to their geographical proximity to India and various legends that connected Indian Buddhism to Dali. In addition to the legend in which King Aśoka’s sons establish the Bai kingdom, and accounts of Indian monks traveling to Dali to proselytize, by the Qing Dali had become identified with the Indian kingdom Gandhāra and was seen as the location of Mt. Kukkuṭapāda (Chn. Jizu shan, “Chicken Foot Mountain”), the site where the Buddha’s disciple Mahākāśyapa is waiting for the arrival of the future buddha Maitreya.79 The Nanzhao and Dali rulers’ representations of their Buddhist traditions as primarily Indian continued to echo through the late imperial period. As these examples show, many people in the Ming and Qing dynasties continued to depict Dali as a site of ethnocultural difference, but this was not the only form of ethnic representation in late imperial records. Writings about Baijie Furen/Cishan were a way for local literati to represent Dali culture and history as equally advanced as that of the Chinese heartland. The ethnic dimension to this kind of representation does not appear explicitly. Educated Dali natives in the Ming and Qing, with the exception of some members of the Xizhou Yang family, tended not to use ethnic labels for themselves or others. The use of such ethnic terms as “Bai” and “Han” in official records suggests that educated Dali locals were familiar with those categories but either did not think of using them or intentionally omitted them. Even if this omission was not a conscious decision, it still allowed authors to claim both local and translocal identities without being pinned down as either Bai or Han. In writing about Baijie Furen/Cishan, Dali locals presented their culture as one in which even a woman of the distant past had mastered the feminine virtues of Chinese civilization. Gender and ethnocultural representation intersect in several ways in these writings. Women’s sexual behavior was one marker that Chinese sources used to locate ethnocultural groups on the spectrum of civilization and barbarism. As Emma Jinhua Teng observes in her study of Qing travel writings about Taiwan, the South had been feminized (and the North masculinized) in Chinese writings starting with the Tang dynasty. This feminization involves a “gender inversion” in which southern people overturn

134

L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA ST I T Y

stereotypically Chinese gender roles and rules governing sexuality, leading to perceptions of southern women as hypersexualized and lacking in propriety.80 Baijie Furen/Cishan’s chastity and fidelity signifies the advanced civilization of the Dali region as a whole. In general, presenting female figures as signs of ethnocultural difference within the dominant Chinese system of gendered signification was fraught because such figures signified lack of sexual inhibition and barbarism without any concomitant growth in power. Male symbols of ethnocultural difference, on the other hand, could exploit stereotypes of barbarism while also claiming the masculine power of wu martiality (vs. wen civilization or culture). Local literati from Dali were thus unlikely to use a female figure in representing ethnocultural difference. Baijie Furen/Cishan’s gendered symbolism is not limited to femininity, however. Inasmuch as faithful wives signified political loyalty, Baijie Furen’s story could also be a way for Dali locals to declare their political allegiance. Dali’s history as the site of independent kingdoms on the periphery of Chinese influence—of which the Qing court in particular was well aware—meant that Dali locals could use the gendered symbols of Baijie Furen’s legend to align themselves with the Nanzhao and Dali regimes, or at least Dali’s independent history. Poems that recount Baijie Furen’s righteous revenge, refer to the Meng and Duan rulers, or have “cherishing the past” (huaigu) in their titles lend themselves more to this interpretation than do other writings, but even these offer plausible deniability of any seditious sentiments. For local literati in Dali, Baijie Furen/Cishan’s polysemic identity allowed for layers of signification in writings about her; she simultaneously signified Dali’s cultural advancement and its independent history. It was this same polysemic identity that made Baijie Furen/Cishan a popular subject for nonlocal officials and literati who wrote about her in the Ming and Qing dynasties. Officials stationed in Dali, such as the Zhejiang native Feng Su, could reinforce Dali’s regional identity as a place of “barbarian clouds and miasmic rain” by writing about Baijie Furen/Cishan. These writings present Baijie Furen/Cishan as an exceptional figure by contrasting her virtue with her barbaric environment in a way that justifies the court’s civilizing projects—it turns out that barbarians can be civilized—but does not challenge the binary of Chinese and barbarian. These writings also use women’s sexual behavior to signify a culture’s degree of civilization, but here Baijie Furen/Cishan is the exception that proves that most women in Dali’s history did not display such Confucian virtue. The differences between nonlocal and local writings on Baijie Furen/Cishan can be subtle,



L A DY O F C Y P R E S S C HA S T I T Y 

135

but the nonlocal writings draw more of a contrast between Baijie Furen/Cishan’s virtue and her environment, use the term “barbarian” in referring to Dali culture and history, and privilege the terms of Chinese history (Han, Tang) over the names of Dali’s independent regimes. Nonlocal writers adopt the position of Chinese masculinity in protecting the memory of Baijie Furen/Cishan’s virtue, which they can also use to civilize the (feminized) barbarian population of Dali. During the Ming and Qing dynasties Baijie Furen comes to overshadow Baijie Shengfei and Baijie Amei. The two earlier Baijies do not disappear—they still have temples dedicated to them, and records still connect Baijie Shengfei to Hārītī and her rain-making role—but the dominant Baijie shifts from the White Sister to Cypress Chastity. There are several reasons for this shift: Baijie Shengfei’s identity was not firmly rooted in a textual tradition, leaving some confused about who she was; Baijie Amei never became a widely worshipped goddess outside of the Xizhou area; and most important, Baijie Furen’s identity and legend aligned with the spirit of the age and encompassed a broader field of signification than those of her predecessors. Baijie Amei’s reach was limited precisely because her legend diverged from gendered Chinese modes of signifying royal authority: kings had miraculous births, but their mothers did not. Baijie Furen, on the other hand, could serve the rhetorical needs of both local and nonlocal male elites. Her constellated identity extended to translocal figures such as Meng Jiangnü and Qu Yuan, as well as local figures such as A’nan and Baijie Shengfei. In terms of geographical reach and documentation, Baijie Furen succeeded where Baijie Amei did not. The nature of extant sources from premodern Dali limits my discussion to the materials left by male elites. While there are occasional references to how other populations in Dali might have understood these different figures called Baijie, such as the connection both Baijie Shengfei and Baijie Furen had to rainmaking, in general I can draw few conclusions about the worship of these goddesses prior to the modern period. Though field research does not allow unmediated access to the worship of Baijie in modern Dali, it does offer more kinds of representation and suggests more possibilities for how people in premodern Dali might have engaged with Baijie, and so this will be the subject of the following chapter.

5

BAIJIE THE BENZHU Village Religion in Contemporary Dali

B Y T H E E N D O F T H E Q I N G DY N A S T Y the name Baijie was firmly attached to the eighth-century widow martyr, and it is this identity that most people in Dali today know as Baijie. However, the other two figures called Baijie have not disappeared: Baijie Amei is still enshrined in Xizhou, and the section of the Dahei tianshen daochang yi devoted to Baijie Shengfei still circulates among ritual masters in Jianchuan. In many villages people express an uncertainty over Baijie’s identity that reflects the priorities of village religion. It matters less whether Baijie is a Buddhist goddess, Duan Siping’s mother, or a widow martyr, and more that she will protect the people in her community. Baijie is one of many benzhu (Bai be zu ni or wv ze), “local lords,” the term used in Dali for tutelary village deities. Like the other figures called Baijie, the benzhu Baijie is one of the symbols through which people in modern Dali represent themselves in relation to Chineseness. What changes in the modern and contemporary periods are the discursive categories through which this representation operates and the values associated with Chinese identification. The modern terms “ethnicity” (or “nationality,” minzu) and “religion” (zongjiao) enter Chinese vocabulary in the late nineteenth century and demarcate the boundaries of Chinese religion in new ways. Representations of gender also change with the advent of modernity. As Tani Barlow has argued, Chinese male intellectuals created the universalizing category of “women” (first nüxing, later funü) to serve as a proxy for the nation: women’s liberation was China’s liberation.1

138

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U

The gendered discourse of modernity has spread throughout China, but Baijie’s example in twentieth- and twenty-first-century Dali shows how people invoke it in different ways when representing themselves in relation to Chinese identity. Depictions of Baijie can foreground Bai ethnic religion and signify distance from universalizing Chinese tradition, but they can also foreground Baijie’s gendered virtues and signify proximity to Chineseness. These findings are consistent with studies of ethnicity in modern China that show how people use minzu categories differently based on their location, history, community demographics, and education level. Stevan Harrell’s work on the diversities within the Yi minzu and Ralph Litzinger’s study of the Yao illustrate how this operates in different populations in Southwest China.2 However, while the Yi and Yao are usually presented as significantly different from the Han majority, the Bai are described as highly “sinicized,” which makes representations of Bai ethnic religion especially important for understanding intersections of gender, ethnicity, and religion in a frontier zone. One of the clearest examples of how different parts of the Bai population invoke minzu discourse differently is the depiction of Baijie and her worship. Those who place Baijie within Bai ethnic culture tend to be people who create public representations of Bai ethnic identity by publishing books, circulating tourism materials, or writing internet posts that use the minzu label. These people tend to be urban, male, and educated. Baijie’s village worshippers, most of whom are rural middle-aged and elderly women with little access to education, rarely use the language of minzu, instead foregrounding Baijie’s gendered and village identities. Depictions of Baijie in modern Dali participate in the gendered demarcation of local identities and Chineseness. Baijie’s gendered characteristics appear in both kinds of representation, where the widow martyr’s sexual continence remains paramount; but gender and ethnicity intersect differently when minzu discourse is invoked and when it is not. Those who depict Baijie as an example of Bai ethnic religion use gender as a marker of nuanced ethnic difference: she signifies the feminine other, but her associations with chastity tether her to Chinese femininity and prevent her from becoming a stereotype of the sexually uninhibited minority woman. ­Louisa Schein’s concept of “internal orientalism” explains the dynamics by which educated, urban, male minorities claim the privileged role of modernity by displacing alterity and ethnic tradition onto uneducated, rural, female minorities. These women become the “feminine hinge” that signifies the unchanging tradition of ethnic culture, which allows the men to embody modernity. 3



BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U 139

Internal orientalism and the feminine hinge help explain representations of Baijie as a symbol of Bai ethnic culture, but other approaches are needed when ethnic discourse is not part of Baijie’s image. Those who do not invoke ethnic discourse in connection to Baijie present her in local and gendered terms. As a local figure, Baijie is rooted in village life and intervillage networks that people rarely relate to ethnicity. The emphasis on Baijie’s gendered identity similarly effaces ethnic difference and foregrounds the collective identification of “women.” This presents Baijie as a universal figure rather than one who is uniquely identified with the Bai. Representations of Baijie that do not incorporate ethnic discourse come from the populations who serve as the “feminine hinge” in the dynamics of internal orientalism. Though it would be an overstatement to characterize these representations as a form of resistance to hegemonic discourses of ethnicity, they do demonstrate the selective applications of such discourses. I use different methodologies to examine different representations of Baijie in modern Dali. Textual sources remain important, especially for public depictions of Bai ethnic identity. Published works, tourism materials, and internet postings are valuable resources that reach an audience beyond Dali. In recent years, a play based on Baijie’s legend toured China and a novella based on her legend was published, which show her increasing popularity as a symbol of Bai ethnic culture. Many of these sources come from elite populations with high levels of education and the ability to circulate their writing widely. However, as literacy rates increase in China and more people have access to the internet, textual sources are no longer restricted to a tiny community of elite men. ­Modern texts about Baijie thus demand different readings than premodern texts from and about Dali. Even as literacy rates increase in China, there are still populations without access to textual knowledge, including the middle-aged and elderly women who form the core of village religion in Dali. Though some of these women can read and write well, many did not have access to education in their youth. Their views on Baijie, ethnicity, gender, or religion do not appear in print or even in writings visible at village temples. Field research offers the best way of understanding how Baijie’s most devoted worshippers depict her. The interviews I conducted at Baijie temples throughout Dali prefecture in 2007–2008 form the basis for my analysis of how Baijie’s devotees represent her. Interviews, like public images of Baijie, are heavily mediated by several factors. The mutual recognition between me and the interviewees affected our conversa-

140

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U

tions, and I do not pretend to know how Baijie’s worshippers would represent her in other social encounters, such as with family members, fellow villagers, or Chinese scholars. However, the representations of Baijie I encountered in these interviews were consistent enough to draw conclusions about the differences in published and nonpublished images of the goddess. Representations of Baijie from the reform era (1978–present) form the core materials for this chapter, but they develop out of the sociopolitical contexts of the late Qing, Republican period (1911–1949 on the mainland), and early decades of the PRC. Writings about Baijie from these periods show how people used her to make sense of new categories such as nationality, race, and religion. They also show the historical vicissitudes of twentieth-century China, in which official positions on these issues frequently shifted while other themes remained consistent.

Baijie and Modernity: The Republican Era and Early PRC

Depictions of Baijie change in the Republican period and into the early years of the PRC in relation to the conceptual shifts introduced by modern discourse. Categories of religion, “women,” and nationality/ethnicity/race entered China in the late Qing, took root in the Republican era, and were adapted to socialist ideology in the PRC. People in China contested the meanings and applications of these new concepts, and Baijie was one of the symbols through which this occurred in Dali. Baijie links the Bai to the nascent concept of the Chinese race or nationality, and she embodies the tension surrounding the applicability of “religion” to benzhu worship. She also shows how concepts of religion, nationality, and gender intersected in this period. BA I J I E A N D BA I E T H N IC I T Y

Qing expansion created a huge empire with a diverse population. As the discourse of ethnic nationalism rose in Europe and Japan, intellectuals in Republican China struggled to apply its terminology to their own unwieldy state. Attempts to formulate Chinese ethnic nationalism faced tension between the notions of a singular, unified Chinese nation and a multiethnic, diverse Chinese nation. This mirrored the tension between race and culture in defining the Chinese nation. Sun Yat-sen appealed to both definitions: for him, the Chinese nation was coextensive with the Han “race” or “nationality”; he saw the minority population as numerically insignificant and predicted that it would be assimilated to the Han in the melting pot of the Chinese nation. Other R ­ epublican-era



BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U 141

intellectuals developed the theory that all the minzu in China were originally part of the same race (zhongzu), the progenitor of which was the Yellow Emperor.4 Though the various minzu split off from this lineage, they shared a common ancestor and could be reintegrated into a unified Chinese nation. Demarcating the Chinese nation or race was a gendered process. Tani Barlow has demonstrated how male intellectuals in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries created the collective category “women” as a symbol of the nation’s ability (or failure) to modernize. Improving the plight of women was necessary to improve China.5 Practices such as footbinding became symbols of China’s incompatibility with modernity, but, as Dorothy Ko argues, the male intellectuals who condemned footbinding were less concerned with the women affected by it and more concerned with its symbolic meaning as a proxy for the nation.6 The universalizing category “women” was the ground over which modernity and tradition competed, but modernity could also be coded as masculine in contrast to feminine “tradition.” This correlation operated at the heart of orientalism, in which Western powers claimed the position of masculine modernity and cast the “East” as feminine and traditional. Intellectuals and others who participated in modern discourse wanted to modernize (and masculinize) China in a way that retained its distinctive national or racial identity. Writings about the Bai (or Minjia) from the Republican period highlight the difficulty of clearly demarcating the national, racial, and cultural categories “Han” and “Chinese.” Foreign scholars, missionaries, and soldiers weighed in on the issue: the British military officer H. R. Davies claimed that “Min-chia [Minjia] is undoubtedly the most puzzling language of Yün-nan to classify” because it contained elements of all four language families in the region.7 The opposing positions of C. P. Fitzgerald and Francis L. K. Hsu exemplify the ambiguity of Bai ethnicity in relation to Chineseness. In The Tower of Five Glories: A Study of the Min Chia of Ta Li [i.e., Dali], Yunnan, Fitzgerald identifies significant differences between Minjia and Chinese systems of society, kinship, and religion.8 He also reports that Minjia people in the Dali plain referred to themselves as “Shua Bër Ni” (speakers of the Bai language) or simply “Bër Dser” (Bai), which suggests that Bai was the autonym used by the in-group, while Minjia was a more public label.9 Hsu, like other ethnographers in China in the late 1930s, went to Yunnan to avoid the chaos of the Sino-Japanese War in the east. His first study of the area, Under the Ancestors’ Shadow: Kinship, Personality, and Social Mobility in China, used the people of Xizhou (which he called “West Town”) as prototypical

142

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U

e­ xamples of Chinese culture.10 Hsu described the Dali area as a Minjia “colony” but accepted Xizhou residents’ claims that they were “more Chinese in some respects than the Chinese in other parts of China.”11 Chinese writings from the Republican period also differ in their depictions of the Bai or Minjia, with many combining the new discourses of nationality and race with the older discourses of barbarism. For example, the 1917 Dali xianzhi gao (Draft gazetteer of Dali County) describes the Bai as the indigenous barbarian inhabitants of Dali who have become increasingly assimilated to the Han nationality after the region became a Chinese “colony” (zhimindi) in the six zhao period preceding the Nanzhao conquest. Bai women’s distinctive clothing and custom of covering their faces with parasols are the primary examples of continued ethnic difference. The author uses the Darwinian concepts of “natural selection” (wujing shengcun) and “survival of the fittest” ( you sheng ze liezhe bai) in explaining how the Han replaced indigenous populations in Dali.12 This presents the Bai as an originally distinct people who became drawn into Han culture owing to the inherent superiority of the Han. Some Qing sources give the same sinicization narrative, but the evolutionary, racial, and national language in the Dali xianzhi gao is new. Other Chinese sources use racial and national language to present the Bai as part of the Chinese nation or race from its origins. Fan Yitian, an ethnologist from Lijiang, identified the Nanzhao and Dali rulers as descendants of the Di race, which he saw as part of the “plateau branch” of the Chinese nationality (Zhongguo minzu).13 According to Fan, the Bai ethnonym came from the Bai (White) Di of the modern-day Shaanxi and Gansu regions.14 Fan’s etymological gymnastics to link the term Minjia to the Di race did not convince other scholars, but his general claim that the Bai descended from the Di branch of the Chinese race was widely accepted.15 Bai women’s practices marked ethnic difference in the Dali xianzhi gao account, but women could also support the claim that the Bai were racially or nationally Chinese. It is in this context that Baijie Amei reemerges to play the familiar role of linking the Dali population to a desirable line of descent. The difference is that her Ming-dynasty role operated around the logic of lineage, while in the Republican period her role operated around the ideas of nationality and race. Xu Jiarui (1895–1977), a Kunming native who taught history at Yunnan University, wrote about Duan Siping’s mother (whom he called Baijie Shengfei) in his influential Dali gudai wenhua shi (History of the ancient culture of Dali). He understands the legend of Duan Siping’s birth as a transformation



BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U 143

of the Shayi legend and a symbolic account of the Dali rulers’ ethnic heritage.16 Xu explains the name Baijie (White Sister) as a contraction of the names for the Duan clan’s ethnie, Baima Di, and its original ancestor, Jie Qiang.17 Baijie remains a critical link in legitimizing the Dali population’s ancestry, but here it is more her name than her maternal function that does this work. Xu published his study of Dali’s history in 1949, when the People’s Republic of China was founded. Debates about the classification and roles of different ethnic, racial, or national groups continued into the PRC, but the ethnic classification (minzu shibie) project of the 1950s imposed some order by establishing a limited set of “nationality” designations into which China’s entire population would be incorporated. Ethnic classification was supposed to be based on Stalin’s four criteria of common language, territory, economy, and psychology, but Thomas Mullaney has shown that in Yunnan, at least, the short amount of time allotted for this project meant that government researchers could not analyze each case according to these criteria. Researchers instead followed taxonomies developed in the Republican era or even earlier. Linguistic taxonomy offered the best classification system, as it was sufficiently “scientific” and much of the groundwork had already been done.18 No controversy surrounded the designation of the Bai as a minzu. As Fitz­ gerald noted in the Republican era, language was how the Bai identified themselves as Bai. Historical records also supported the view that the Bai minzu had occupied the Dali region for centuries. But there was debate over the ethnonym used for the indigenous people of Dali. Minjia was more commonly used in the Republican period but was replaced by Bai in the PRC. The ethnologist and ­Lijiang native Fang Guoyu (1903–1983) explained this decision when a Bai scholar questioned it in the 1950s. Fang argued that Minjia was a term that Ming soldiers used for the indigenous people of Dali, neither an ethnonym nor an autonym of Dali natives. In contrast, Dali natives identified as “Bai,” and “Bai” had a longer history as an ethnonym.19 Once the Bai were designated as an official minzu, researchers began to study their ethnic culture. The Communist government adopted the social evolution theories of Lewis Henry Morgan and Karl Marx, according to which different peoples fell at different points along the spectrum from primitivity to socialism. Among China’s minzu, the Han were seen as the most advanced, with minority nationalities lagging behind to varying degrees. Investigating a minzu’s culture and history allowed researchers to pinpoint its place along this spectrum and determine what needed to be done to hasten its progress. This

144

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U

model essentializes minzu identity in positing “Bai culture” or “Bai religion” that are distinct from those of other nationalities. Like the concepts of race and nationality, the concepts of religion and culture entered Chinese discourse in the late Qing and became part of intellectual discourse in the Republican period. Baijie’s example illustrates the tension surrounding the use of these concepts in the Republican era and into the early decades of the PRC. BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U

When the concept “religion” entered China via Japan in the late nineteenth century, it brought along with it the opposing category of “superstition” (mixin) as well. Religion was defined as having a scientific basis that conflicted with primitive superstition. Prasenjit Duara has pointed out that this model did not allow for gradation as did the previous binary of “correct” (zheng) and “perverse” (xie) teachings.20 The various authorities that wielded power during the Republican era worried about the revolutionary potential of transregional cults and used the label “superstition” to check their power. Yuan Shikai (1859–1916) instituted a crackdown on popular religion between 1900 and 1915, while the Nationalist (KMT) government actively suppressed “superstition” between 1927 and 1930.21 The political weight of religion and superstition increased the stakes for using one label or another. Christianity was the paradigmatic religion with which other claimants to the term were explicitly or implicitly compared. In 1912 the Republican government identified Buddhism, Daoism, Islam, Roman Catholicism, and Protestant Christianity as “religions,” but Buddhists and Daoists in particular had to reformulate their traditions to better fit the Christian model.22 Village temples that were not clearly Daoist, Buddhist, or Confucian could not easily claim the religion label and faced destruction or repurposing. In Dali, this affected the benzhu temples that existed in almost every village. Writings from the Republican era and into the early PRC take different positions on how ­benzhu worship relates to Bai ethnic culture and the religion-superstition binary. Baijie again plays a role in how intellectuals construct and contest modern discourse in Dali during this period. Descriptions of benzhu worship mirror authors’ positions on how the Bai/ Minjia relate to Chinese identity. Fitzgerald, who emphasized differences between the Bai and Han, also characterized benzhu worship as distinctively Bai. He identified benzhu (which he called “Ber Dser”) as the reputed founders of the villages they governed. Their worship reflected the Bai/Minjia focus on the



BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U 145

village as the fundamental social unit, as opposed to the Chinese focus on the family unit.23 Hsu, as well as Carl H. F. Liu (who wrote for the missionary publication The Chinese Recorder), characterized benzhu worship as a form of local religion but did not describe it in ethnic terms.24 This conforms to Hsu’s and Liu’s emphasis on the Chineseness of the Bai/Minjia. Xu Jiarui’s discussion of benzhu worship was more complex. Though he did not refer to it as part of Minjia or Bai ethnic culture, he did place it within the ethnic culture of the Di and Qiang peoples. According to Xu, benzhu myths reflected Di and Qiang religious thought, which was also the religious thought of the Chinese nationality (Xia minzu). He wrote, “Myths of the Qiang nationality are also China’s oldest literature. One branch spread to Yuanxiang [i.e., Hunan] and one branch spread to Dali. Therefore Dali’s myths are really the blood descendants of the Xia dynasty.”25 This was part of his overall strategy to incorporate Dali into the Chinese nation. Baijie played a role in this strategy by etymologically linking the Dali kingdom rulers to the Di and Qiang peoples, but she also played a role as a benzhu. Baijie the benzhu reinforced links between Dali and the Chinese nation because her legends ultimately came from the Chinese Di and Qiang ethnic groups. Just as writings from the Republican era differ on the distinctively ethnic dimensions of benzhu worship, they also disagree on the proper label for ­benzhu worship and the acceptability of the practice. Xu Jiarui claims that benzhu worship is a “systematic, organized religion with beautiful legends and lofty morals. It possesses a humanism and realism that Buddhism and Daoism lack. . . . To worship Baijie Shengfei [Holy Consort of Cypress Purity] and Imperial Mother A’nan is to value chastity.”26 Chastity has positive connotations here, which shows that the ideal of the liberated “modern woman” was far from universal. In fact, Baijie’s widow martyr identity continued its polysemic significance into the late Qing and early Republican periods, when modernists championed women’s self-sacrifice for the sake of the nation, while traditionalists embraced virtues such as chastity and fidelity.27 Regardless of one’s attitude toward modernity, Baijie could be either a positive or negative figure. In Yunnan, ­Baijie’s ties to chastity contributed to her survival in the Republican period. The Dali xianzhi gao suggests that Baijie’s identity as a moral exemplar protected her temples from destruction during anti-superstition campaigns. Its author made a distinction between revering past sages, which he saw as acceptable, and worshipping gods and demons, which was superstitious.28 Unlike previous gazetteers, which listed Baijie’s temple among “popular cults” (qunsi

146

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U

or minsi), this gazetteer placed its entry for a joint Baijie-A’nan temple in the section on diansi, “canonical cults,” which enjoyed state sanction.29 According to the author of the Dali xianzhi gao, “improper cults” ( yinsi) were destroyed after the founding of the republic. These included the Temple of the Eastern Marchmount (Dongyue miao), Three Spirits Temple (Sanling miao; see Chapter 3) in Xizhou, and “the benzhu temples of each village.” The latter had been repurposed as primary schools and their statues were destroyed. 30 Despite these claims that anti-superstition campaigns were successful in Dali, the writings of missionaries and scholars active in the area in the 1930s and 1940s suggest that the campaigns did not significantly disrupt benzhu worship. The PRC government continued to recognize the five official religions labeled as such in the Republican era but introduced new policies, such as the formation of patriotic associations in the 1950s to ensure that each religion expressed its loyalty primarily to the state.31 During these early years of the PRC, the leadership expected that society would naturally evolve beyond religion as the people’s material conditions improved. This period coincided with that of the ethnic classification project and research on distinctive ethnic cultures. Attitudes toward religion and ethnicity intersected in writings on ethnic religion from the 1950s. Studies of ethnic religion from the early years of the PRC introduced more socialist rhetoric than appeared in Republican-era works, but in the case of the Bai there are more continuities than differences. In the 1950s, as part of the project of researching minority nationality culture, a team of Bai scholars wrote and edited Dali Baizu Zizhizhou lishi wenwu diaocha ziliao (Survey report on the history and cultural relics of Dali Bai Autonomous Prefecture). Li Yifu, one of the editors, wrote an article on Bai benzhu legends in which he defended benzhu worship, which he described as a distinctive religious belief of the Bai people. He claimed that most benzhu were historical figures (including the widow martyr Baijie) revered and loved by the people; only secondarily was benzhu worship a tool that rulers used to exploit the people’s religious beliefs and hypnotize the populace.32 Li saw some “superstition” in benzhu worship but identified positive elements as well: With the improvements in people’s lives and the increasing political awakening following Liberation, changes have already arisen in benzhu beliefs in that conceptions of benzhu have weakened. We should be happy about this kind of positive phenomenon, but I believe that rejecting cultural heritage in opposing superstition is clearly incorrect. Therefore we advise the relevant culture bu-



BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U 147

reaus and the many rural intellectuals to take care to preserve wooden carvings, ­statues, and legends related to benzhu, and to explain clearly to the people why they are doing this, in order to avoid misunderstandings and side effects.33

Li’s article surveys benzhu legends throughout the newly established Dali Bai Autonomous Prefecture. His records are more comprehensive than previous materials such as gazetteers, so they provide new information about b­ enzhu temples and legends. Baijie’s name appears several times in this survey. Though Li identifies her as the widow martyr in each case, some of her titles reflect her other two identities.34 Li does not explicitly connect Baijie to the Bai nationality, even when recounting her legend. However, as a benzhu, she was part of the Bai nationality’s “distinctive religious beliefs.” Writings from the Republican era and early PRC used the widow martyr Baijie’s example to support the acceptability of benzhu worship. Xu Jiarui wrote of her chastity, Li Yifu labeled her a “female martyr” (liefu), and the Dali xianzhi gao presented her as a moral exemplar. Her identity as a virtuous historical figure made her an appropriate role model and object of reverence. Just as Ming and Qing gazetteers downplayed Baijie’s role as an efficacious deity, so did records from the early to mid-twentieth century omit references to Baijie’s divinity. Moreover, these twentieth-century materials continued to present Baijie in highly gendered terms that conformed to ideals of traditional femininity, which by the Republican era contrasted with the figure of the modern woman. In public representations of Bai ethnic culture disseminated to outsiders, Baijie’s associations with chastity and martyrdom became a liability, as these virtues came to signify feudal oppression, which would taint the Bai minzu to which she belonged. An alternative public model of Bai womanhood emerged in the 1959 film Five Golden Flowers (Wuduo jinhua). This film was part of a cinematic trend in the late 1950s that focused on ethnic minority culture and in some cases—including Five Golden Flowers—presented it as compatible with socialist modernity. Five Golden Flowers was a Bai love story set in Dali, but the five women who shared the name “Golden Flower” engaged in respectable socialist work while wearing ethnic dress and singing folk songs: the heroine was an assistant commune head. These Golden Flowers were not depicted as sexually uninhibited, but they were not paragons of chastity, either. By the late 1950s this image of modern socialist Bai femininity supplanted the traditional virtues embodied by Baijie.

148

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U

The fate of Five Golden Flowers shortly after its release represented the shifting attitudes toward ethnic difference in the “Great Proletarian Cultural Revolution” that began in 1966. Five Golden Flowers was condemned for its bourgeois romantic theme, and its lead actress received harsh criticism.35 The minority ethnic culture celebrated by films like Five Golden Flowers was suppressed as the leadership attempted to accelerate the nation’s progress toward socialism. This project also involved the suppression of religious activities and destruction of religious institutions. Dali’s benzhu temples were not spared. In most cases, the temples were not razed but repurposed as silos, schools, or government offices. The walls of a Baijie temple in Eryuan County still read, “Long Live Great Mao Zedong Thought!” Discussions I had with people in contemporary Dali about the Cultural Revolution centered on benzhu worship. People spoke of this time in terms of loss: statues, temples, and texts were destroyed. Religious knowledge was a casualty of the Cultural Revolution. In many villages, when I asked about the identities or legends of benzhu I was told that this information had been lost during the Cultural Revolution. Temple records and ritual texts were destroyed, and village elders did not have opportunities to pass down their expertise to the younger generation. Today the middle-aged and elderly villagers who lived through this time emphasize their attempts to preserve benzhu worship. In one village in Jianchuan, a woman tried to save a wooden statue of Baijie by hiding it in her home, but her house burned down with the statue inside. Elsewhere, people continued to make offerings at the site of the temple, even if the structure had been repurposed or did not exist anymore. Intellectuals and government officials in twentieth-century China continually negotiated the modern discourses of ethnicity, nationality, religion, and the universal “woman.” Writings about Baijie alternately located the Bai within the Chinese nationality or marked the distinctive ethnic religious practices of the Bai nationality in a way that presented the Bai as relatively advanced. As the concept of “woman” emerged to signify how much the nation had modernized, Baijie’s gendered symbolism marked the modernity of the Bai. While many Dali authors continued to depict her traditional feminine virtues as a positive facet of Bai ethnic religion, by the late 1950s the modern socialist woman represented in Five Golden Flowers supplanted Baijie as the public face of Bai femininity. Baijie, like other figures identified with traditional ethnic culture and religion, faced suppression during the Cultural Revolution, but she reemerged in the reform era that began in 1978.



BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U 149

“Eternal Pride of Bai Women”: Baijie’s Public Face

Government policies toward religion and ethnic difference gradually eased in the reform period, and this, in conjunction with economic development, has led to the rebuilding and renovation of religious sites throughout China. In places such as Dali, with significant minority populations, this phenomenon has coincided with the rise of ethnotourism, which depends on the image of an exotic minority culture distinct from that of the Han and other nationalities. Government officials, local scholars, and people in the tourism industry can publish books, organize public presentations, and sponsor performances that implicitly or explicitly demarcate a distinctive ethnic culture. As the public representatives of minority ethnic culture, they have an interest in shaping the image of this culture. In contrast, for people who lack the means (and interest) to publicly represent ethnic culture, other kinds of identification and ­representation—family, village, age group, and so on—often have more salience than ethnicity or nationality. However, these two groups are not completely separate: they share a vocabulary, even if they use some terms differently; they interact in some contexts; and people in villages encounter public representations of ethnic culture. Representations of Baijie in contemporary Dali illustrate these different applications of ethnic discourse and constitute one of the ways in which people make identifications (whether ethnic, gendered, village, and/or otherwise). Depictions of Baijie in contemporary Dali show how the changing historical context continues to inform gendered representations of ethnic difference. Baijie is a gendered marker of ethnic difference for those who publicly represent Bai identity, but she is a gendered symbol that effaces ethnic difference for many of her worshippers in villages, whose representations of Baijie do not often have a public audience. Baijie worship resumed in the reform era, though as Helen Siu has argued, the resurgence of religious activity in this period is less a revival of tradition than a new interpretation.36 Such new interpretations appear both in public depictions of Baijie and in her village worship. Public depictions of Baijie are found in Chinese-language publications, both academic and popular; tourism sites; internet postings; and dramatic performances. Aside from tourism destinations, the other media are mobile and have spread far beyond the Dali region. In contrast, Baijie’s village worship remains bound to specific localities. Baijie is currently worshipped as a benzhu in four regions within Dali Prefecture: Dali Municipality, Eryuan County, Jianchuan County, and Heqing County; I have found no references to her temples

150

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U

elsewhere. In both public depictions and village worship each of Baijie’s three historical identities remains visible to those who are familiar with them, but the widow martyr identity is best known. Public representations of benzhu worship have been produced by (mostly) male Bai intellectuals and, to a lesser extent, people within Dali’s tourism industry (though these two groups overlap). “Bai intellectuals” refers to the people who write books and articles on Bai culture and define Bai ethnicity for their own group and outsiders. They are literate but have different educational backgrounds: older Bai intellectuals are less likely to have high school or college degrees because of the disruptions caused by the Cultural Revolution. At present, the majority of people in this group are male, but this seems to be slowly changing. The development of ethnotourism and establishment of affirmative action for minority nationalities in reform-era China means that, for some, cultural differences bring benefits in the form of increased tourism dollars and increased government funding for studying and preserving ethnic cultures. Bai intellectuals have been concerned with articulating the cultural practices that distinguish their nationality from others, especially the Han. Religion is central to their formulation of a distinctive Bai ethnicity: Bai scholars point to benzhu worship and the tradition of azhali ritual masters as examples of uniquely Bai religion. Reform-era China still reserves the “religion” label for the five traditions recognized as such in the Republican era, and benzhu worship does not fit clearly into one of these five. Scholars therefore often describe benzhu worship as religious but not as a religion. For example, according to Yang Zhengye, “Benzhu are the distinctive religious beliefs of the Bai nationality. Bai benzhu beliefs already have a long history, and developed on the foundation of ancient primitive religion.”37 Books and articles on benzhu worship use the labels “­beliefs” (xinyang), “worship” (chongbai), and “culture” (wenhua) far more than “religion.”38 Even so, scholars and government officials apply terms such as “­religion” and “religious” more frequently than most people in villages. Benzhu worship may not be an officially designated “religion,” but connecting it to religion gives it a higher status than it would have as “superstition.” Bai intellectuals also legitimize benzhu worship by presenting it as an ancient element of their ethnic history. Currently, the dominant view is that the Nanzhao rulers, as “black barbarians,” were the ancestors of today’s Yi nationality, but their subjects included “white barbarians,” the ancestors of the Bai.



BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U 151

The Duan rulers of the Dali kingdom are seen as “white barbarians.” Most Bai scholars trace benzhu worship to the Nanzhao kingdom based on two sources: the depiction of two kings and their family members at the Shibao shan grottoes, and the reference to Mahākāla as a tuzhu in the Ji gu Dian shuo ji.39 Even if scholars do not see the Nanzhao rulers as ancestors of the Bai, they still cite these examples as proof that their ancestors, as Nanzhao subjects, would have participated in benzhu worship. Emphasizing ethnic difference requires finesse, as the Han remain the benchmark of cultural advancement. Minority intellectuals face the challenge of presenting their ethnic culture as both distinctive and respectable. Emily Chao has shown that Naxi intellectuals’ representation of dongba religion (as dongba culture) highlights the text-based practices of male ritual masters and ignores the activities of their illiterate female counterparts.40 The same is true among the Bai. Azhali ritual masters receive considerable scholarly attention, while the women’s Lotus Pond Societies have gone largely unstudied. Most studies of benzhu worship focus on the identities and legends of the deities as recounted by male village elders. This focus is designed to present a view of Bai ethnic culture that is distinctive but not “primitive.” When contemporary Bai intellectuals write about Baijie, they always refer to her in the context of Bai ethnicity. Reform-era writings on Baijie by Bai scholars rely heavily on the works of people such as Xu Jiarui and Li Yifu from the Republican era and 1950s. In surveys of benzhu worship, Bai intellectuals include the widow martyr Baijie as an example of the Bai adoption of Confucian values, which supports their depiction of Bai culture as eclectic and tolerant, a unique synthesis of disparate elements drawn from a wide variety of sources.41 The inclusion of Baijie as an example of female benzhu also highlights the inclusivity of the Bai pantheon.42 Finally, Bai scholars under the PRC interpret Baijie’s suicide as self-sacrifice for the sake of the people, which lends a proletarian bent to her legend.43 Baijie thus encapsulates the distinctiveness of Bai culture and history, the advancement of the Bai as measured by their similarity to the Han, and the compatibility of benzhu worship with socialist values. Bai intellectuals write far less about Baijie’s two other forms, as a Buddhist goddess and Duan Siping’s mother, but these forms have been discussed in the Chinese-language writings of non-Bai scholars. Hou Chong, a Han scholar from Yunnan, has addressed Baijie’s transformations in his study of Dali historiography, Baizu xinshi. He has written extensively on Dali-era Buddhism and has published articles on the Dahei tianshen daochang yi and Baijie Shengfei/

152

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U

Fude Longnü. The Taiwanese scholar Lian Ruizhi has also written extensively on both of Baijie’s two earlier forms.44 Their attention to Baijie’s Buddhist identity and her identity as Duan Siping’s mother might attract more notice from Bai intellectuals. The story of the widow martyr Baijie has reached a wider audience through three recent projects. In 2006, the play Holy Consort of White Purity (Baijie Shengfei) was staged on the occasion of the fiftieth anniversary of the founding of Dali Bai Autonomous Prefecture. According to the (non-Bai) playwright Li Li, who adapted the legend into a drama, “Baijie was seen by later people as the incarnation of beauty, goodness, virtue, and chastity. She has been revered for generations as a Bai ‘benzhu.’”45 The play complicates the standard account of Baijie’s legend by making Piluoge a more sympathetic figure: he now murders the rival leaders in order to prevent full-scale wars that would entail greater bloodshed. Baijie is conflicted in her feelings toward her husband’s killer but eventually commits suicide in order to be reunited with her husband in the afterlife. The play ends with Baijie’s apotheosis. In 2008 Baijie Shengfei toured China, eventually winning a top prize at the Fifth Festival of Beijing Opera in Shandong.46 The resulting publicity has presented Baijie’s legend as an important part of Bai culture. One online critic from the Weishan area, the original home of the Nanzhao kings, complained that the drama overemphasized Bai culture, given that the Nanzhao rulers were the “proud ancestors of today’s Yi people.”47 Someone with the handle “feiyuxi2008” made a post on the Yahoo China forums with the title “Baijie Shengfei: The Eternal Pride of Bai Women” (Baijie Shengfei: Baizu nüxing yongheng de jiao’ao).48 She or he recounted the plot of the play and emphasized Baijie’s Bai identity. These examples hint at the potential for new media to shape conceptions about ethnicity. In 2008–2009, a new Baijie temple was constructed at Deyuancheng (City of Virtue’s Source), the site of the former Dengdan capital. An official in the Eryuan County Bureau of Nationalities and Religion (Minzu zongjiao ju) explained that the project had been partially financed by the Eryuan County government, though private donations supported most of it. This conforms to Adam Yuet Chau’s observations about the role of local government officials in supporting village religion in reform-era northern China.49 The new temple in Deyuancheng is far larger and grander than the previous one. Local intellectuals were consulted about cultural and historical issues surrounding the temple, which explains why the main plaque reads “Holy Consort of White Purity,” Baijie Shengfei. This bothered the older women I spoke with at the



BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U 153

grand opening ceremony. They saw this title as disrespectful, as they referred to Baijie as “Holy Mother,” shengmu, a title that was originally used more for Baijie Amei. Even the intellectuals who served as advisors on the project were unhappy with certain parts of it: one complained that the giant statue of Baijie made it seem more like a Buddhist temple than a benzhu temple, because benzhu statues are human-sized. These complaints speak to tensions between villagers and intellectuals, culture and tourism, and history and modernity. So far, benzhu worship has not been commodified by the tourism industry, but the reconstruction of Baijie’s temple may be the first step. Finally, a novella about Baijie’s legend titled Ningbei fei was published through a Taiwanese print-on-demand press in 2010. Its author, Jinsha (Golden Sand), pen name of Wei Yaping (1922–2009), originally came from Yunnan but spent most of his life in Thailand. Jinsha includes the legend’s familiar details— the iron bracelet, burning of Pine Resin Tower, Cishan’s de facto suicide, and Piluoge’s enfeoffment of her as Ningbei fei and Baijie Shengfei all appear—but presents it as a love story from Piluoge’s perspective. In this, it resembles Li Li’s dramatic adaptation of the tale that emphasizes romance over moralizing. The story ends with Cishan enshrined as the benzhu Baijie Shengfei, but her religious identity is secondary. Jinsha does use some ethnic labels, and in a clearly gendered way: his comparison of Bai girls’ bright eyes and white teeth to Dali marble eroticizes minority women, and he contrasts Cishan’s bookish husband (who has the “Confucian air of a Han person”) to the martial, muscular Piluoge.50 Public images of Baijie connect her to Bai ethnic culture in a way that carefully engages the semiotics of minority femininity. Dru Gladney has shown how Han Chinese define themselves as masculine by painting minority nationalities as feminine in mass media and fine arts. He notes that when all fiftysix nationalities of the PRC appear together, a man in a suit represents the Han, while women in ethnic attire represent the minorities.51 Ethnic minority women are also seen as sexually freer than their Han counterparts, which has led to ethnicity-based sex tourism and the rise of the “Yunnan school” of painting that centers on erotic images of non-Han women.52 As the name “Yunnan school” suggests, Southwest China is a hotbed of this phenomenon: from the so-called matriarchal society of the Mosuo with its practice of “walking marriage” to the Dai women of Xishuangbanna bathing in rivers, minority women have become a commodity that brings in tourist dollars. Beth Notar has noted a similar phenomenon in the Dali region, where young Bai women appear in

154

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U

ethnic dress as “public relations props” and male tourists remark on the attractiveness and desirability of Bai women.53 As Louisa Schein demonstrates with the example of the Miao, male minorities often participate in this “internal orientalism” because it allows them to claim a relatively modern position in contrast to the feminine hinge of tradition.54 Baijie’s combination of beauty and virtue titillates but does not transgress. As a lovely young Bai woman in ethnic dress she evokes the exotic eroticism of minority women, but her strong ties to chastity and fidelity anchor her to “civilized” values. Whether romantic heroine or proletarian martyr, Baijie exemplifies distinctively Bai ethnic culture in a way that brings it close to the benchmark of Han advancement. Furthermore, the minority intellectuals, government officials, and tourism workers who shape Baijie’s public image can use her embodiment of feminine tradition to represent themselves as modern and masculine.

Role Model, Mystery, and Royal Mother: Baijie in Village Religion

Public representations of Baijie often locate her within village benzhu worship and occasionally recount versions of her legends that circulate in a particular place.55 However, when scholars solicit village legends, they usually look to the older men whom the community identifies as authorities on such matters. Scholars rarely interview the middle-aged and elderly women who are in charge of most benzhu worship, and these women themselves often defer to men to explain local history and customs. My conversations with people involved in the village worship of Baijie revealed the limitations of only considering Baijie’s public image. Villagers who did not publish studies of Baijie or Bai culture often invoked different categories and emphasized different aspects of Baijie’s identities than appeared in public representations. Field research was especially valuable for understanding how Baijie’s primary devotees—middle-aged and elderly women—talked about her. Lay religious associations for middle-aged and elderly women are an important part of village religion throughout China, and Dali is no exception.56 In Dali these groups are called “Lotus Pond Societies” (lianchi hui) or “Mama Societies” (mama hui). Village women who want to join usually do so after their own children are grown, which puts members in their forties and older. At present this means that many women in the societies lacked access to formal education in their youth and can neither read nor write. Interviewing members of Lotus



BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U 155

Pond Societies was the only way for me to understand how Baijie’s primary worshippers discussed the goddess. I consulted published surveys of temples in Dali Prefecture to compile a list of Baijie temples, after which I made preliminary visits to each temple, then returned on festival days to talk to more people. This approach gave me a broader picture of Baijie worship throughout Dali Prefecture but sacrificed depth that would come from long-term fieldwork in a single place. The interviews I conducted were informal: I followed a list of questions, such as “Who is Baijie?” and “Which nationalities (minzu) worship Baijie?,” but frequently improvised follow-up questions and let people guide the conversations themselves. Several factors affected the responses I received. I conducted interviews in public places usually occupied by a group of people, which led to reticence on the part of many interviewees. Gender played a noticeable role in conducting interviews. It was not uncommon for the women of the Lotus Pond Society to profess ignorance or defer to men when asked about Baijie legends or temple history but then to jump in with their own contributions after the men started speaking. The vast majority of people I interviewed were over the age of fifty, because few young people spend much time at the village temple. When I did have the chance to talk to younger people, usually at temple festivals, they were far less likely to profess knowledge of religious issues. In addition, most people I interviewed were women, despite their general tendency to defer to men, because far more women visited the village temple as part of their participation in the Lotus Pond Society. One of the bigger surprises I experienced was that most villagers said they had no idea who Baijie was. This was unexpected because the interviews usually took place at Baijie temples on the occasion of the temple festival. It serves as a reminder that religious knowledge is not a prerequisite for participation in religious practice: knowing the village deity’s identity and background was not important for most villagers—they attended temple festivals primarily for entertainment and socializing. They might donate money to the temple and pay their respects to Baijie by bowing and lighting incense, but this did not depend on knowledge of her legend. I am also aware that my own identity as a non-Bai, non-Chinese outsider shaped people’s responses to my questions. It is for this reason that I qualify my findings as concerning the public representation of ethnicity and gender in Baijie worship; I cannot claim to know, based on my own research, how religion, ethnicity, and gender are discussed privately among members of the in-group. My status as a scholar, replete with notepad and digital camera, imbued me

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U

156

with some authority: I represented the outside world, which led some people to appeal to me for help with personal or village problems. At the same time, I was a relatively young woman, which made it easier for me to communicate with the women of the Lotus Pond Society and possibly made me less intimidating than if I had been older or a man. J IA N C H UA N A N D H E Q I N G : F I L L I N G I N T H E B L A N K S

Jianchuan and Heqing Counties are located in the mountainous regions to the north of the Dali Plain and Eryuan County. Jianchuan lies to the west of He­qing, but a mountain range separates the two counties and makes travel between them difficult. This geography also explains some of the historical differences between Jianchuan and Heqing. Many Ming soldiers settled in

Nujiang Lisu Autonomous Prefecture

Lijiang Prefecture

Jianchuan County Heqing County

shan Shibao

Eryuan County City of Virtue’s Source

Yunlong County

Binchuan County

Er Lake Dali (Old

Yangbi Yi City) Autonomous County Dali Municipality Xiangyun County Baoshan Prefecture

Yongping County Weishan Yi and Hui Autonomous County

Midu County

Legend Prefecture County Prefecture capital City Mountain



Lincang Prefecture

Nanjian Yi Autonomous County

Water

Simao Prefecture

MAP 5.1. 

Dali Bai Autonomous Prefecture

Chuxiong Yi Autonomous Prefecture

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U 157



Heqing, so the character tun, “military settlement,” appears in place names throughout the county. Jianchuan’s relative inaccessibility means that fewer outsiders settled there, and it is seen today as a bastion of traditional Bai culture and language. Despite these differences, Jianchuan and Heqing display similarities in their religious traditions: azhali ritual masters continue to work in both areas, and legends and practices from the Dali Plain often have not reached the northern parts of the prefecture. In the case of Baijie, this means that more traces of the earlier Buddhist figure survive and the widow martyr Baijie is not universally known. However, most people do not identify Baijie with the Buddhist goddess, meaning that the name Baijie operates more as a floating signifier in Jianchuan and Heqing. This makes it somewhat surprising that these counties have the highest number of Baijie temples in Dali Prefecture, with eight in Jianchuan and ten in Heqing. Baijie’s Buddhist identity survives in Jianchuan and Heqing through her ritual texts, connections to Hārītī, and iconography. In Jianchuan, the azhali ritual text Fomen sanfusheng gao (Buddhist eulogies for sages of the three departments) contains encomia for the Eighteen Altar Gods (shiba tanshen), a set that includes Baijie Shengfei.57 This set of gods is a mix of Buddhist and local figures and is known only in Jianchuan, though Baijie is part of another set of Nine Altar Gods in the Dali Municipality. Unfortunately, we do not know what these altars originally referred to, but the sets seems to be a way of forming a network of local deities or consolidating the power of multiple village deities. The eulogy dedicated to the “Great Holy Local Lord, Holy Consort White Lady, Mother Hārītī” (Dasheng benzhu Baiji Shengfei Helidi mu) matches the descriptions of Baijie Shengfei in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi and Baijie Shengfei Longwang hemiao beiji: Devotedly Prostrate in Homage. After practicing for three great [eons], she completely perfected the six pāramitās. She originally lived in Tuṣita Heaven and now manifests as White Lady [Baiji] the Holy. On her head are three dragons that represent her mastery over the Three Realms; the interlacing of her ten fingers [reflects] her desire to cut off myriad beings’ Ten Evil Deeds. She forsakes true awakening so the sun and moon do not fall out of line; for the sake of the realms of the ten directions, the wind and rain each follow their season. Worthy of the sages, mother of the myriad gods, she is the Great Compassionate One of the Great Vow, Great Holy One of Great Mercy, the Great Holy Local Lord, Holy Consort White Lady, Mother Hārītī.58

158

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U

This shows the continued transformation of the Baijie Shengfei section of the Dahei tianshen daochang yi and the continued identification of Baijie Shengfei and Hārītī. However, the survival of these elements of Baijie’s Buddhist identity does not mean that people still see her as a Buddhist figure. The eighty-year-old former azhali who owned these texts identified Baijie as the heroine from the Burning Pine Resin Tower story. When I asked him about Hārītī, he replied that knowledge about her was lost after the Cultural Revolution. In Heqing, which has fewer azhali, Lotus Pond Societies take the lead in village ritual. They gather to recite scriptures on the first and fifteenth days of the lunar month, as well as on festival days. Members memorize the texts (and often learn them aurally), but many societies also have written versions of their liturgical corpus, either printed or in manuscript form. There are also local Buddhist associations that have their own sets of texts. Though none of the texts I encountered in Heqing recounted Baijie’s legend, several paired her with Hārītī and included her in the list of gods worshipped or invited to the ritual area. For example, Baifo jing (Scripture for worshipping the Buddha) from the Deer Town Lotus Pond Society begins by invoking “Holy Consort White Sister, Mother Hārītī,” and “Holy Consort Cypress Chastity Mother Hārītī” appears in Miaoyu zhusheng shenhao (Holy titles of the temple’s gods) from Star Town’s Buddhist association. As in Jianchuan, the pairing of these names had no connection to people’s explanations of Baijie’s identity but might provide a foundation for scholars to identify Baijie as a Buddhist figure. Temples in Jianchuan and Heqing also pair the names Baijie and Hārītī, though this is much more common in Heqing. Only one temple in Jianchuan uses both names: the goddess of Dragon Town is “Great Holy Local Lord, the Holy Queen White Sister Mother Hārītī.” An elderly man from this village identified Baijie as a local girl who was chosen to be the bride of a Tangdynasty king and used her position to help her hometown. According to him, after ­Baijie died and became a goddess she was known as Alidimu (which he might have interpreted as Imperial Mother Ali rather than Mother Hārītī). In ­Heqing, five Baijie temples display the goddess’s title as “Holy Consort White Sister, Mother Hārītī,” but as in Dali kingdom sources it is often unclear whether people see these as two figures or one. In Deer Town this title applies to a single figure, but in New Town two statues appear under the title “Great Sage, Holy Consort White Sister of the Western Heaven, Mother Hārītī.”59 Each figure is paired with a statue of a small child, recalling Baijie Shengfei’s connection to the youth in Dali-era materials and Hārītī’s role as a fertility goddess.

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U 159



Baijie’s Dali kingdom iconography survives in a handful of examples from Jianchuan and Heqing. A new statue in Wealth Town, Jianchuan, shows Baijie with three dragons on her head, though this might be the result of local scholars’ influence, as more Bai intellectuals in Jianchuan are studying Dali history and finding sources related to Baijie’s Buddhist identity. A stone slab found in the Jianchuan county seat has the label “The God Hārītī” ([He]lidimu zhi shen) and depicts two seated figures, one of which touches the head of a child with her right hand and places her left hand on her heart.60 This iconography conforms to images of Baijie Shengfei/Fude Longnü in Dali kingdom sources; unfortunately, the very top of this figure and the entire face of the other figure have not survived, making further identification difficult. At the benzhu temple in Deer Town, Heqing, “Holy Consort White Sister, Mother Hārītī” is a single figure with three snakes extending over her head. Other Baijie images depict the goddess as an elegant woman in Chinese robes, either single or paired with a male deity. These examples show that although Baijie’s Buddhist identity remains visible in Jianchuan and Heqing to those familiar with earlier sources (or secondary scholarship on them), this does not correlate to widespread recognition of Baijie

F IG U R E 5 . 1 .  

Baijie statue, Deer Town

160

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U

or Hārītī as Buddhist figures. Instead, people have developed other understandings of Baijie that tie her primarily to their locality and emphasize her role as the village’s guardian deity. In addition to identifying Baijie as a local girl, some villagers in Jianchuan spoke of their Baijie as the sister of a Baijie worshipped nearby: a middle-aged woman in Center Town, Jianchuan, identified her village’s Baijie as the sister of the Baijie in Sea Town. These Baijie networks link villages in religious networks similar to those seen in Southeast and North China, but they do not depend on specific understandings of Baijie’s identity or legend.61 People in Deer Town, Heqing, developed a new legend to explain Baijie’s identity. According to this story, the Baijie of Deer Town was having an affair with a neighboring village’s benzhu, Dongshan Laoye (East Mountain Grandfather, i.e., the god of Taishan). One morning the lovers accidentally slept in too late and, in their rush to get dressed, put on one of the other deity’s shoes, leaving each with one dainty embroidered slipper and one military boot. The elderly man at the Dongshan Laoye temple who recounted this story in Bai only agreed to do so after my male research assistant assured him that I would not understand, which shows that he did not consider its contents suitable for mixed company. When I visited for the temple festival on a separate occasion, an intoxicated middle-aged man told me that Baijie was not “civilized” (wenming) because of this affair. Needless to say, this image of Baijie differs markedly from the chaste widow martyr who, according to some of her worshippers, never even had sexual relations with her husband. There were several temples in Jianchuan and Heqing where none of the people I interviewed identified Baijie at all. Even in villages where someone did recount her legend, most people professed ignorance. In Smoke Town, Heqing, the middle-aged and elderly women of the Lotus Pond Society, told me that only the older generation knew Baijie’s legend. They explained that they worshipped Baijie for a good harvest, peace, and protection. Baijie was their “ancient ancestor” (laozu), and they were her children. What mattered most was Baijie’s relationship to them, not her independent identity as Buddhist goddess, king’s mother, or widow martyr. One of my standard questions was how Baijie differed from the ubiquitous bodhisattva Guanyin. Throughout Jianchuan and Heqing people responded that Baijie had been a human being and occupied a lower rank in the divine hierarchy than Guanyin, the univeral savior. As such, Baijie was closer to, and partial to, the villagers who revered her as a benzhu. At the same time, my research shows that the widow martyr form of Baijie has spread to parts of Jianchuan and Heqing, though it is unconnected to the



BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U 161

Torch Festival there and less widely known than in Eryuan County and Dali Municipality. In Jianchuan, texts and people identified the goddess Weiguo shengmu (Nation Protecting Holy Mother) as the widow martyr form of Baijie. The entry for Weiguo shengmu in the Fomen sanfusheng gao states, “In the Resin Tower she reached the pinnacle of loyalty and filiality; her righteous example is like the purity of ice and frost.”62 At the benzhu temple for Weiguo shengmu in Center Town, Jianchuan, the middle-aged woman who opened the temple gate also said that Weiguo shengmu was none other than Baijie. People in Jianchuan and Heqing also identified Baijie herself as a widow martyr. In Wood Town, Jianchuan, a local intellectual posted an extremely detailed twelve-page account of the widow martyr Baijie and A’nan Furen legends in the Baijie temple. The author described benzhu worship as a unique cultural characteristic of the Bai, adding an ethnic dimension to Baijie’s identity. Women in a Lotus Pond Society I interviewed at the Baijie temple in Horse Town, Jianchuan, gave a similar description of Baijie: they recounted the widow martyr legend and identified her as a Bai person from Dali. In Heqing, elderly men and women in Elephant Town, female Lotus Pond Society members in Bridge Town, and a temple record in White Town also identified Baijie as the widow martyr, though only the Bridge Town women labeled her as Bai. The elderly men and women in Elephant Town further described Baijie as a “role model” (bangyang) for women because of her virtue (zhenjie). Though this description appeals to notions of traditional femininity, the term bangyang comes from the 1960s campaign to “Study the Good Role Model Lei Feng” (xuexi Lei Feng hao bangyang), a paragon of proletarian self-sacrifice. More people from Jianchuan than Heqing connected Baijie to Bai minzu identity, though this connection could include Baijie’s ethnicity, the ethnicity of her worshippers, or the distinctively ethnic practice of benzhu worship. In addition to the above examples, two elderly azhali masters from Dragon Town claimed that only the Bai worshipped Baijie and the Eighteen Altar Gods, and a temple caretaker in Wealth Town identified Baijie as Bai. However, the grandson of one of the azhali said that Baijie worship was not necessarily limited to the Bai. In Heqing, fewer people identified Baijie as Bai, even when the village was predominately Bai. This disparity probably stemmed from two factors. First, Jianchuan had become a symbol of traditional Bai culture, while Heqing had a larger population of Han migrants. Second, the continued prominence of azhali in Jianchuan meant that I spoke more with literate men in Jianchuan but more with women in Heqing. Moreover, even in Jianchuan most people did

162

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U

not introduce ethnic discourse into the conversation but labeled Baijie and/or her worshippers as Bai in response to my questions about ethnicity. The only exceptions were the local scholars and officials I spoke with who created public representations of Baijie and Bai culture. In Jianchuan and Heqing, Baijie’s worshippers have filled in the blanks in her identity in three ways: by treating Baijie as a guardian whose role does not depend on a specific identity; by developing local tales about Baijie, as we see in Deer Town; and by adopting the legend of Baijie the widow martyr. The third process shows how top-down forces can trigger changes in local religion. For example, the village intellectual in Wood Town who posted the twelve-page account of Baijie’s legend consulted several published sources in researching her story. If others in Wood Town read or hear his account, with its ethnicization of benzhu worship, they might adopt parts of his discourse and/or understanding of Baijie. Public (and published) representations of Baijie and benzhu worship thus can reach the villagers who revere Baijie. Gender informs whether and how people in Baijie’s villages invoke ethnic discourse in describing the benzhu and her worship. Male ritual specialists and village intellectuals are more likely to use ethnic discourse than are the female members of Lotus Pond Societies. These same male authorities are more frequently called upon to represent Bai culture, while this rarely happens with religious women. Emphasizing ethnic difference also has more negative consequences for female minorities, who tend to be stereotyped as sexually uninhibited, like the dissolute Baijie of Deer Town. Even when women in Lotus Pond Societies identify Baijie as a chaste widow martyr, they rarely use ethnic language. This phenomenon is particularly notable in Dali Municipality and Eryuan County, where Baijie’s widow martyr identity is universally known. DA L I A N D E RY UA N : R OYA L M O T H E R A N D W I D OW M A RT Y R

Dali Municipality and Eryuan County occupy the Dali plain, which is demarcated by Er Lake to the east and the Diancang Mountains to the west. Eryuan County extends north into a somewhat mountainous region, but transportation in both Eryuan and Dali is convenient, unlike in Heqing and Jianchuan. The close proximity of Dali and Eryuan to each other and the ease of communication within this area have contributed to the more uniform representation of Baijie I found there. Moreover, in these areas people see the widow martyr legend as the basis for two summer festivals, which reinforces knowledge of Baijie.



BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U 163

Azhali are not active in Dali and Eryuan (with the possible exception of Eryuan’s mountainous areas), which means that village religion primarily falls under the purview of women’s religious associations. Male Daoist and Buddhist ritual masters conduct major rites, such as funerals, and men’s Grotto Scripture Societies (dongjing hui) perform Daoist music at some benzhu temple events, but Lotus Pond Societies are responsible for temple upkeep and regular worship.63 As in Jianchuan, male ritual masters and Grotto Scripture Society members enjoy higher social status than women in Lotus Pond Societies. Baijie is best known in Dali and Eryuan as a widow martyr, but people in the Xizhou region still worship Duan Siping’s mother, Baijie Amei. Duan ­Siping and his mother remain the main deities worshipped at Linghui si (also called Tangmei si). An inscription there identifies Duan Siping’s mother as ­Baijie Amei, but she is commonly known as Yici Shengmu, “Virtuous and Kind Holy Mother,” or just shengmu. The elderly villagers I interviewed identified her as Duan Siping’s mother and described her as a fertility goddess who possesses a key that lets women have children. A younger man stated that the villagers were all her children, which is a common description of benzhu that may not be related to her function as a fertility goddess. The story of Baijie Amei’s miraculous conception and the birth of Duan Siping has been included in collections of Bai myths and legends, and it hangs on the wall of Linghui si. However, it is far less popular than the legend of the widow martyr Baijie, and the worship of Duan Siping’s mother still does not extend beyond Xizhou. The villagers at Linghui si focused on the local nature of Duan Siping and his mother rather than their ethnicity. This does not mean that ethnicity was absent from their representation of these figures—a couplet pasted on the temple wall identified Duan Siping as a Bai king (Baiwang)—but villagers’ comments on ethnicity were prompted by my questions, while they were the ones who brought up the local nature of their benzhu. The villagers at the temple claimed that Bai people really believed in Duan Siping, but that he was worshipped by people of many ethnicities. They attributed this to the Dali kingdom’s diverse population and Duan Siping’s virtue of “thinking about the people” (wei renmin zhaoxiang), which made him well liked. “Think about the People,” like “Study the Good Role Model Lei Feng,” is a recent political slogan that people employ in creative ways. As in Jianchuan and Heqing, remnants of Baijie’s Buddhist identity survive in her titles and iconography in Dali and Eryuan, but no one is aware of them. A few Baijie temples follow Xu Jiarui’s example in identifying “Alidimu” as the

164

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U

widow martyr Lady A’nan. In Dali and Eryuan, however, Baijie’s widow martyr form was far better known than it was in Jianchuan and Heqing. Residents of Dali and Eryuan consistently identified Baijie as the widow martyr and recounted at least parts of her legend. They talked about her in terms of local history and geography: people frequently identified her as coming from their village and connected her life story to familiar landmarks such as Er Lake and Deyuancheng. Knowledge of Baijie was reinforced through the annual celebrations of the Torch Festival and the festival that commemorates Baijie’s drowning. The latter is celebrated at different times under different names: in Eryuan it occurs on the first day of the seventh lunar month and is called the “Lake Touring Festival” (Youhai hui), while in Dali it is celebrated on the eighth day of the eighth lunar month and is known by the gruesome name “Corpse Recovering Festival” (Laoshi hui). These two festivals have ensured Baijie’s survival by anchoring her story in time and space, and they distinguish her from other benzhu, which do not have translocal festivals dedicated to them.64 In addition to talking about Baijie as a part of their local history, people in Dali and Eryuan frequently described her as a chaste, virtuous woman. The middle-aged Head Scripture Mother of the Lotus Pond Society in North Town, Dali, told me that Baijie is called “Holy Consort” because she never slept with a man and possesses “holy purity” (shengjie). They worship her as their village deity because she is pure (ganjing), virtuous (shoujie), and beautiful (piaoliang). The elderly woman in charge of a temple in White Town, Dali, where Baijie is worshipped as one of nine altar gods, also emphasized Baijie’s chastity (zhenjie). In Green Town, Eryuan, I asked an elderly woman who belonged to the local Buddhist organization how Baijie differed from Guanyin. She responded that Buddhists also revere Baijie and see her as a role model and compassionate figure that deserves emulation. Baijie is a woman of exceptional character, whereas Guanyin is a universal savior. Baijie’s chastity is also mentioned in her temples’ written scriptures and inscriptions as a central part of her legend. The above responses came from women, but men also emphasized Baijie’s chastity. However, they did not seem to identify with Baijie as personally, or physically, as women did. This was most evident during the celebrations of the Torch Festival and Lake Touring Festival, where Lotus Pond Societies managed the festivities related to Baijie. Part of their celebration involved reciting a scripture that recounts Baijie’s story, which reinforced their knowledge of the legend and symbolically reenacted the legend through ritual recitation. During



BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U 165

the Torch Festival, women used a mixture of garden balsam stem and vinegar to dye some or all of their fingers red from nail to knuckle. The color fades from the skin in a few weeks, but the fingernails remain red until they grow out. This practice, which is widespread throughout the Dali and Eryuan region, indicates a strong identification of local women with Baijie: it commemorates how Baijie bloodied her hands when she clawed through the ashes for her husband’s remains. At the Eryuan celebration of the Lake Touring Festival, Lotus Pond Society members re-create Baijie’s final journey by taking canoes out on West Lake, reciting her scripture, and making offerings of incense and spirit money to her. Avron Boretz’s analysis of men’s practices during the Torch Festival shows the gendered division of labor that characterizes village religion in general. As middle-aged and elderly women recite scriptures and dye their fingers, young men vie to capture the shengdou decoration that caps the large village torch. Boretz describes the men’s rites as virility contests: only a man with a son born in the past year may erect the torch, and winning the shengdou portends the birth of a son in the future.65 This has no connection to Baijie’s legend, and none of the Lotus Pond Society members I spoke to about the festival mentioned these practices. Baijie’s chastity and feminine heroism belong to a different category than the masculine heroics performed at the same festival. The gendered division of religious labor in the Torch Festival and people’s frequent use of gendered language in discussing the widow martyr Baijie contrasts with the relative lack of religious and ethnic discourse. Religion and ethnicity belong to the realm of “official” discourse that most villagers did not regularly employ. This is not surprising in the case of religion, considering that even scholars writing on benzhu worship rarely use that label. However, there were a few people in Dali and Eryuan who described Baijie worship as a kind of religion. A middle-aged man from Phoenix Town, Dali, located Baijie within Dali’s “indigenous religion” (tuzhu zongjiao). Another middle-aged man from Green Town, Eryuan, who previously worked for a Bai culture organization, used the term in describing Baijie as a “guardian god of the benzhu religion” (benzhujiao baohu shen). Given both men’s familiarity with official discourse, their use of the term seems to support the legitimacy of benzhu worship. The elderly man who hosted the Green Town Baijie festival reinforced this connection: he belonged to a local group affiliated with the Communist Party, and I asked him how the Party allowed participation in a religious event. He replied that benzhu worship was neither feudal superstition nor a heterodox sect like

166

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U

Falungong. However, most of Baijie’s worshippers did not invoke the term “religion” in talking about Baijie. “Religion,” like “ethnicity,” not only belonged to the realm of official discourse, it also encompassed potentially sensitive political issues that required finesse to navigate. The absence of religious discourse was not particularly surprising to me, but I had expected people who worshipped Baijie to connect the “Bai” in her name to the Bai minzu. None of the villagers I interviewed in Dali and Eryuan, however, gave confident affirmations to the question “Do only the Bai worship Baijie?” The closest affirmation came from the same middle-aged man in Phoenix Town who used the term “indigenous religion.” He replied, “It seems like only the Bai worship Mother Alidi [aka Baijie] as a benzhu, as the benzhu are indigenous. In the Ming dynasty many Han people migrated here, married locals, and adopted local customs.”66 In North Town, Dali, two women in their sixties identified Baijie as Han and explained that her father was Han but her mother was Bai. This reflected their identification of their neighborhood as predominately Han with some Bai families and several people claiming both Han and Bai descent. It is not surprising that villagers in mixed Han-Bai communities would hesitate to classify benzhu worship as Bai when there is ample evidence of Han participation in the practice. Benzhu worship relies on village identification rather than minzu classification. Moreover, as benzhu worship resembles village worship elsewhere in China, there are few practices that villagers might identify as distinctively or uniquely Bai. As Beth Notar observes, Bai people in Dali tend to minimize differences with the Han, and the differences they list relate to language and food, not religion. In contrast, people can enumerate many differences between their and the neighboring village.67 As the Han are still seen as the benchmark of cultural advancement, most Bai villagers (outside the tourism industry) have little to gain from emphasizing differences from the Han. The absence of explicit ethnic discourse in Dali and Eryuan villagers’ discussions of Baijie can still be understood in relation to ethnicity, specifically the ways in which ethnic and gendered discourses intersect in contemporary China. Given the exoticization and eroticization of minority women, Bai villagers in Dali and Eryuan may avoid ethnic language in discussing Baijie to minimize the perceived distance between Bai and Han women. For Bai women who participate in the Torch and Lake Touring Festivals, identifying physically with Baijie implies an identification with Baijie’s chastity. In describing the widow martyr Baijie as a virtuous woman and role model, Bai women sug-

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U 167



gest that they also value these qualities. Though they do not explicitly invoke ethnic discourse, their explanations of Baijie’s character and identity distance them from the image of promiscuity and lack of sexual inhibition. In fact, it is only by effacing ethnic discourse that gender can emerge as a primary form of identification: if Baijie’s virtues are not distinctively Bai, the women who identify with her can claim to embody a universal (or at least pan-Chinese) image of virtuous femininity. Focusing on ethnic differences could also disrupt notions of shared womanhood that underlie Lotus Pond Societies. Membership in these women’s religious associations depends on village, gender, and age, not minzu identification.68

Conclusions: Baijie and the Bai

In contemporary Dali Baijie remains in a frontier zone where categories of Bai and Han (or Chinese) resist clear demarcation. Public representations of Baijie may invoke ethnic language in identifying her as an example of distinctively Bai culture, but they do so in a way that minimizes perceived gendered differences from the Han. Baijie embodies the positive aspects of ethnic difference but none of the negative stereotypes of minority women’s lack of sexual inhibition. The mostly male scholars and government officials who create these public representations benefit by articulating what is distinctive about the Bai minzu, and they can displace any negative images associated with ethnic difference (primitivity, superstition, tradition) onto populations that are less educated, more rural, and female. Those populations, namely, people who worship Baijie as a benzhu but do not create public representations of her, emphasize her gendered and local identities in ways that downplay ethnic difference. For most people in villages, emphasizing the differences between Bai and Han creates divisions between villagers and implicitly denigrates the Bai. For Bai women in particular, foregrounding a universal image of Baijie’s femininity makes more sense than highlighting her ethnic distinctiveness, which would summon negative stereotypes of minority women. Field research in villages that worship Baijie as a benzhu shows how different populations demarcate “Chineseness” in ways that do not appear in premodern sources. Published works about Baijie and benzhu worship give the impression that she belongs to a distinctly ethnic tradition. If these were the sole sources one used to understand Baijie and her worship, one would come away with an incomplete, if not distorted, image. Though Baijie’s premodern worshippers

168

BA I J I E T H E B E N Z H U

probably did not represent her in exactly the same way as her contemporary devotees, it is important to remember that their image of Baijie may have differed significantly from the image that educated male authors presented in extant sources. This consideration applies especially to gendered representations. Male authors who use feminine symbols often do so as a proxy for other forms of identification: Baijie’s chastity represents the cultural advancement of the Bai minzu as a whole. Their gendered representations of Baijie belong to the same semiotic system that informs the gendered experience of Baijie’s worshippers, but their published writings on Baijie relate little about that gendered experience. Baijie’s female devotees, who in contemporary Dali constitute the core of her worshippers, identify with Baijie more corporeally than do her male followers. Gendered virtues such as chastity and fidelity are of primary importance and function less as a substitute for ethnic progress.



CONCLUSION Ethnicity and Gender in the Cult of the Goddess Baijie

F R O M T H E T W E L F T H C E N T U RY to the present the name Baijie has been a part of Dali’s religious landscape. As a Buddhist goddess in the Dali kingdom, Baijie Shengfei signified the Indian image that Dali rulers claimed for their Buddhist transmission without transgressing Chinese standards of feminine propriety. As Duan Siping’s mother in the Yuan and Ming dynasties, Baijie Amei played a crucial role in extending the divinely ordained Bai kingdom from the Indian king Aśoka through the rulers of the Dali kingdom. Her role as a mother in miraculously conceiving and birthing Duan Siping invoked familiar tropes from Chinese historiography, but her own miraculous birth diverged from these standards and hindered her cult’s spread beyond Xizhou. As a legendary widow martyr in the Ming and Qing dynasties, Baijie Furen evoked collective memories of Dali’s independent history while also conforming to the chastity cult that had spread throughout the empire. Finally, as a benzhu in contemporary Dali, public representations of Baijie signify Bai ethnic culture in a way that minimizes its distance from Han culture, while village discussions of Baijie elide ethnic discourse in a way that foregrounds her local and gendered significance. Each of these figures reveals how people in the frontier zone of Dali have developed local identities through encounters with translocal forces. Moreover, Baijie’s different forms show how this process is gendered: frontier encounters do not just involve cultural, ethnic, or political differences; they also engage gendered symbols in ways that intersect with other kinds of identity and self-

170

E T H N IC I T Y A N D G E N D E R I N T H E C U LT O F BA I J I E

representation. In sources from the Dali kingdom, this other kind of identity is politico-religious, as it concerns Dali court Buddhism. In the Yuan and Ming it shifts to representations of lineage in connection to burgeoning ethnic identification. By the Qing dynasty the concept of ethnicity becomes more applicable, though it remains embedded within the binary discourse of Chinese and barbarian. In the modern period discourses of race and nationality shape representations of identity, though the Chinese-barbarian binary does not disappear. Baijie’s gendered symbolism intersects differently with these different forms of representation, but there are also points of continuity over time. In each of her forms, Baijie invokes Dali’s regional identity in ways that tie her to Chinese notions of femininity. Baijie simultaneously signifies that which marks Dali as a politically, historically, or ethnically distinctive place and that which marks Dali as civilized by the gendered criteria of Chineseness. It is this polysemic character that has assured her continued survival among Dali’s elites. For the most part, the different figures called Baijie do not diverge significantly from hegemonic Chinese images of femininity, so they implicitly subvert stereotypes of sexually uninhibited female barbarians and mark Dali as a civilized region. Baijie Amei is the only figure whose legend does conflict with Chinese standards, and it is not a coincidence that she is the Baijie with the most limited range of worship. Outside this elite realm such concerns about self-representation in connection to Chineseness probably did not arise, but for the premodern period the sources’ limitations make it difficult to assess how the majority of Baijie’s devotees engaged with her gendered and regional symbolism. She was worshipped as a rain deity, but beyond this the historical record is silent on her popular veneration. It is only in the modern period that it becomes possible to consider how elite representations of Baijie compare to those of most of her worshippers. Men and women alike depicted her as a local, gendered figure who was most closely tied to village and intervillage affiliations; larger ethnic categories rarely arose in the course of conversation. Yet, as I have discussed in Chapter 5, the absence of ethnic discourse allows village identity to take center stage without being disrupted by potential ethnic divisions. Similarly, women’s religious associations can bond through shared gender, age, and village identity rather than face potential tensions along minzu lines. Intersections of gender and ethnicity (or other forms of collective representation) in Baijie’s worship from the Dali kingdom to the PRC shed light on how people in frontier zones develop regional identities from a range of possibilities. Dali’s position makes it possible for its residents to engage multiple cultures, in-



E T H N IC I T Y A N D G E N D E R I N T H E C U LT O F BA I J I E 

171

cluding those of India, Tibet, Southeast Asia, and China. Baijie’s example shows that, at least for Dali elites, gendered symbols informed the kind of regional self-representation that developed there from contacts with neighboring areas. Similarly, existing translocal networks informed the gendered semiotic system that became dominant in Dali: had the Han dynasty not established commanderies in Yunnan, perhaps other kinds of gender symbolism would have become hegemonic for the Nanzhao and Dali courts. As early as the Dali kingdom representations of Baijie Shengfei show that Dali elites did look to China for gendered symbols. Her image and description in Dali kingdom sources adhere far more to Chinese standards for depicting goddesses than to those of other neighboring regions. Moreover, the Dahei tianshen daochang yi refers to her being “chaste and pure as ice and frost,” and she never appears in sexual union with Mahākāla. This is particularly significant because of Baijie’s unique role as a truly regional figure in Dali that has survived for a millennium. More than any other part of Dali religion or history, Baijie can offer insight into the region’s transformations over time. Already in the Nanzhao kingdom Dali elites used their proximity to India to claim a closer tie to Buddhism’s source. This claim persisted into the Yuan, with observations that Buddhism was popular in Dali because India was so close, and into the Ming and Qing, with legends that located the Indian Buddhist kingdom of Gandhāra in Dali. Even today, visitors to Dali’s old town can buy clothing, decorations, and other trinkets from India, Nepal, and Southeast Asia. Groups of domestic tourists in cowboy hats contribute to the frontier feeling as their attire alludes to another Wild West. For several centuries Dali has been located on the periphery of huge polities whose political centers are thousands of miles away. Before the Mongol conquest it was itself a political center, but the regimes that were based there still had to contend with powerful empires to the north. Baijie’s various forms offer lenses for viewing Dali as both a center and a periphery, because she foregrounds that which is unique to Dali as well as Dali elites’ close ties to Chinese culture. In this way, she reveals Dali’s position within the centrifugal, mountainous zone of Zomia and Dali’s position in relation to the centripetal pull of the Chinese state. Baijie’s polysemic identities fit into the hybrid realm of Zomia, where people can invoke different forms of self-representation according to context. In Dali, being able to interact with locals as well as traders, soldiers, or officials from elsewhere was an important skill. Ethnographic studies of Dali from the early twentieth century show that people there strategically invoked Minjia,

172

E T H N IC I T Y A N D G E N D E R I N T H E C U LT O F BA I J I E

Bai, and Chinese identities, depending on the circumstances. It appears that this was a valuable skill as early as the Nanzhao kingdom, when ruling elites adopted subservient roles in relation to Tibet and Tang China but dominant roles in relation to the Pyu kingdom and Annam in Vietnam. Religious hybridity is part of this selective self-representation: if the same religious symbolism can mean different things depending on the context or audience, it might be more useful to people living in frontier zones. Baijie, as a figure that can signify local identity as well as translocal identities, fits well into this category. Through Baijie’s fairly generic name, Dali elites adapted her to respond to changing historical contexts, making her truly a goddess of the frontier. Frontier zones often fall through the disciplinary cracks because they do not fit into existing area studies categories based on modern-day nation-states and geopolitics. One effect of focusing on the frontier is to challenge those disciplinary divisions that shape the knowledge we produce. Dali elites may have looked to China for their writing system, religious texts, and political advisors, but (at least in the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms) they did not live in Chinese territory and they did not represent themselves as Han. Later officials from Dali similarly confound categories of Chineseness. Frontier zones do not require that we jettison all categories like “Chinese,” “Indian,” or “Buddhist,” but they do demand that we treat these terms as forms of discourse that are historically contingent. In fact, the concept of Chineseness depends on the frontier (that is, on encounters with difference) for its significance. This means that in a place like Dali terms such as “Chinese,” “Indian,” or “Tibetan” may in fact carry more weight than they would in China’s central plains. A goddess such as Mazu might engage tensions between localizing and universalizing forces in Southeast China, but she would not engage tensions between Chineseness and barbarism as does Baijie. Mazu’s and Baijie’s different connections to discourses of Chineseness highlight the ways in which goddesses’ gendered characteristics intersect with other facets of their identities. Baijie’s femininity is one of her only consistent features, but its significance changes with each form and historical period. A Buddhist consort in the Dali kingdom means something different than a king’s mother in the Ming dynasty and a widow martyr in the Qing. Baijie’s example offers a reminder that “woman” is not a monolithic category but another form of discourse that can elide important differences and support strategic interests. Most of the sources I have considered in this book came from the writings of Dali’s male elites. Though they did not completely control the forms of discourse they used, they still benefited from the dominant power structures in



E T H N IC I T Y A N D G E N D E R I N T H E C U LT O F BA I J I E 

173

premodern and modern Dali. Their depictions of Baijie might not have been completely separate from those of her average worshipper, but they would not have been completely identical, either. These elite male writings about Baijie align with the male culture Katherine Carlitz identifies as the driving force behind the chastity cult.1 That is, Dali’s male elites used Baijie’s gendered characteristics to serve their own interests, which included representing themselves and their ancestors as civilized. Baijie’s roles as consort, mother, and widow martyr may have aligned with women’s roles in Dali, too, but the historical record does not preserve their interests. The fieldwork I conducted in Dali offers hints at how Baijie’s gendered symbolism operates outside of the elite realm. Whereas elite representations of Baijie generally steer clear of sexuality, aside from their emphasis on sexual continence and chastity, people in Heqing County’s Deer Town have developed a legend that casts Baijie in a promiscuous role. It is possible that similar legends circulated in premodern Dali but did not make it into gazetteers owing to concerns about propriety. Aside from this, people also spoke of Baijie the b­ enzhu as a maternal figure for people in the village, even when her specific role was not that of mother. These improvisations fill in gaps in Baijie’s identity and suggest how Baijie’s worshippers in premodern Dali might have understood her. Baijie’s female worshippers in modern Dali have their own interests that are served by Baijie. They express less concern with ethnic identity, but they do focus on Baijie as a paragon of chastity and feminine virtue in a way that implies their identification with these virtues. To approach Baijie as a figure of empowerment or oppression would not do justice to either her complexity or the complexity of human identities. I originally became interested in Baijie because of this complexity: she did not seem to fit in existing regional, cultural, or religious categories. I became even more interested in Baijie when my expectations about her were upended in the course of my fieldwork. Because her name is often written with the same character for the Bai minzu, I assumed that people in Dali would see her as a distinctly Bai goddess. I was wrong. Baijie is difficult to pin down, so she offers a window into the dynamic interactions that occur on frontier zones and over time in different historical contexts. As a Buddhist goddess, Duan Siping’s mother, widow martyr, and benzhu, Baijie embodies the tensions between localizing and universalizing forces, Chineseness and barbarism, and frontiers and centers.

C H I N E SE C H A R AC T E R S

Acuoye   阿嵯耶 Ailao   哀牢 Alidimu   阿梨帝母 A’nan Dimu   阿南帝母 A’nan Furen   阿南夫人 ancha fushi   按察副使 asheli   阿闍黎 Ayuan   阿垣 azuoli   阿左梨 ba guo   八國 Bai   白 Bai ren   白人 Bai shi guo   白氏國 Bai wen   白文 bai zhou   柏舟 Baidi tianwang   白帝天王 Baiji   白姬 Baijie Amei   白姐阿妹 Baijie Furen   柏節夫人 Baijie Jixiang Wei   白姐吉祥微 Baijie Shengfei   白潔聖妃 (Holy Consort of White Purity) Baijie Shengfei   白姐聖妃 (Holy Consort White Sister) Baima Di   白馬氐 baiman   白蠻 baise   白色 Baiyai   白崖 baizi yingxiang   白子影像 Baotang   保唐 Baozang shen   寶藏神 Baozang tiannü   寶藏天女 benlai mianmu   本來面目 benzhu   本主

176

C H I N E SE C HA R AC T E R S

benzun   本尊 bisha zhu   避沙珠 Bo   僰 bu   部 Bukong   不空 buxie   布燮 cao  曹 Changheng   嫦姮 chengjiu  成就 Chongsheng si   崇聖寺 Chu   楚 Chuntuo Dashi   純陁大師 Cishan   慈善 cizi   賜紫 cun xin   存信 Da Fengminguo   大封民國 Da’an yaocha shen   大安藥叉神 Dahei tianshen   大黑天神 Dali   大理 danbiqianjian   擔畀謙賤 danyao   丹藥 Dasheng Benzhu Baiji Shengfei Helidi Mu   大聖本主白姬聖妃訶[言+利]帝母 Dasheng Dahei Tianshen   大聖大黑天神 Dasheng Fude Longnü   大聖福德龍女 Dasheng Xitian Shengfei Baijie Helidi Mu   大聖西天聖妃白姐[火+柯]梨地母 Datianxingguo   大天興國 Dayiningguo   大義寧國 Dazhongguo   大中國 Dedao Yougan Longshen   得道有感龍神 Dengdan   鄧賧 Dengdan Baijie Shengfei Shenwu Alidi Mu   鄧賧白姐聖妃神武阿利帝母 Deyuancheng   德源城 di (northern barbarian)   狄 di (emperor)   帝 Di   氐 Dian   滇 diansi   典祀 difang zhengquan   地方政權 Dong   董 dongdi   東帝 dongjing hui   洞經會 Dongshan Laoye   東山老爺 duan   段



Duan Baolong   段寶瓏 Duan Heyu   段和譽 Duan Siping   段思平 Duan Xiangxing   段祥興 Duan Xingzhi   段興智 Duan Xinju Yi   段信苴義 Duan Zhengyan   段正嚴 Duan Zhixing   段智興 Erhai   洱海 Erhe lingdi   洱河靈帝 Faguang   法光 fan   凡 Fan (Tibet)   蕃 Fan (India)   梵 Fanxiang juan   梵像卷 fayuan   發願 Fazang si   法藏寺 feng   封 Fotu ta   佛圖塔 Fude Longnü   福德龍女 Fude Longshen   福德龍神 Fude Shenmu   福德神母 gaitu guiliu   改土歸流 gan   感 gaoshen   告身 Geluofeng   閣羅鳳 Gongde Tiannü   功德天女 guanding   灌頂 Guanyin   觀音 Guizimu   鬼子母 Guo Shizong   郭世宗 guoshi   國師 guowang   國王 Han   漢 he man   河蠻 Helidi   訶梨帝 Hengshan   橫山 Heze Shenhui   荷澤神會 hong   虹 Hongsheng si ta   弘聖寺塔 hu   胡 hua   華 huaigu   懷古

C H I N E SE C HA R AC T E R S 

177

178

C H I N E SE C HA R AC T E R S

huanghua cuizhu   黃花翠竹 Huanxi   歡喜 Huayan Dajixiang Baijie   華嚴大吉祥白姐 huazang   華藏 huguo baochuang   護國珤幢 Huoba jie   火把節 jiachi   加持 Jianchuan   劍川 Jianguo shengyuan Acuoye Guanyin   建國聖源阿嵯耶觀音 jianyi daifu   諫議大夫 jiao   蛟 jiaohua   教化 Jie Qiang  姐羌 jiedushi   節度使 jin fu   金符 Jinbang shan  金鎊山 Jingzhong Shenhui   淨眾神會 Jiu tanshen   九壇神 Jiulong zu zhi yi   九隆族之裔 jiuzan  久贊 jiuzhuan dan   九轉丹 Jixiang Tiannü   吉祥天女 Jizu shan   雞足山 junjia   軍家 kai mimi zhi miao men   開祕密之妙門 ke  可 Langqiong   浪穹 Laoshi hui   撈尸會 laozu   老祖 lianchi hui   蓮池會 liefu   烈婦 lienü   烈女 Ling miao   靈廟 lingfei   靈妃 Linghui si   靈會寺 Linshui furen   臨水夫人 liuchu fanyan wugu fengdeng   六畜繁衍五穀豐登 Lizhen 利貞 Lizheng   利正 long   龍 Long   瓏 Longhao   隆昊 Longhua   龍華



C H I N E SE C HA R AC T E R S 

Longmeng   龍猛 Longshen ci   龍神祠 Longshu   龍樹 Longshun   隆舜 longwang   龍王 lu   路 Luosheng   羅晟 mama hui   媽媽會 man   蠻 Man A’nu   曼阿奴 man wang   蠻王 man zidi   蠻子弟 mannu chuan  蠻奴釧 manyan zhangyu   蠻煙瘴雨 manyu   蠻語 Meng Jiadu   蒙迦獨 Meng Jiangnü   孟姜女 Mengshe   蒙舍 mengsheng   猛聖 Mengsui   蒙嶲 mi   密 Miao   苗 mimi   秘密 mingfei   明妃 Mingjia   明家 mingwang   明王 Minjia   民家 minsi   民祀 minzu   民族 mixin (ming) juexin (zhi li)  迷心(明)覺心(之理) mizong jiujing   密宗究竟 mo   摩 Mohejialuo Dahei tian   摩訶迦羅大黑天 moheluocuo  摩訶羅嵯 nan man   南蠻 Nanzhao   南詔 Ningbei fei  寧北妃 Ningbo   寧伯 piaoxinju   驃信苴 Pilu haiyin sanmo  毗盧海印三摩 Piluodeng   皮邏邆 Piluoge   皮羅閣 Pingnan guo   平南國

179

180

C H I N E SE C HA R AC T E R S

Qianxun ta   千尋塔 qingpingguan  清平官 qiuwang   酋望 qu guai   去怪 Quanfengyou   勸豐佑 qunsi   群祀 rong   戎 rou(ding) guang kongding  肉(頂)光空頂 rushi  儒釋 sanguan   三官 sanling baidi   三靈白帝 Sanling miao   三靈廟 Shayi   沙壹 sheng  聖 Shengde xingbang huangdi  聖德興邦皇帝 shengfei   聖妃 Shengluopi   晟羅皮 shengmu   聖母 Shengyuan si   聖源寺 shengzu   聖祖 shiba tanshen  十八壇神 Shibao shan   石寶山 Shilang  施浪 Shilong   世隆 shishi   施食 Shizhong shan   石鐘山 shuilu fahui   水陸法會 Shunhuazhen   舜化貞 sifang qing wei yijia   四方請為一家 Songming lou   松明樓 Taichangheguo   太長和國 tanchuo  坦綽 Tenkawa Benzaiten   天川辨財天 Tianying jingxing yici shengmu   天應景星懿慈聖母 tongpan   通判 tulunwang   土輪王 tun   屯 tusi   土司 tuzhu   土主 waiguo   外國 wang   王 Weiguo shengmu   衛國聖母 Wuduo jinhua   五朵金花



C H I N E SE C HA R AC T E R S 

wujing shengcun   物競生存 wuman   烏蠻 Wusheng laomu   無生老母 Wuwei  武威 xia   夏 xian   顯 xiandan shenshu   仙丹神術 xiangshui hai   香水海 Xianzhe Mai Chuncuo   賢者買純嵯 xie   邪 xi’nan yi   西南夷 xing zhongshu sheng   行中書省 Xinghui jie   星回節 Xinuluo   細奴羅 Xiwangmu   西王母 xiyu   西域 Xizhou   喜洲 Xuanzang   玄奘 xuexi Lei Feng hao bangyang   學習雷鋒好榜樣 Xungequan   尋閣勸 yanbi   彥賁 Yang   楊 Yangjumie   陽苴咩 Yeyu  楪榆 (or 葉榆) yi   夷 Yi   彝 yi zhao   異兆 Yici Shengmu   懿慈聖母 Yimouxun   異牟尋 yinsi   淫祀 Yizhou   益州 Yongchang   永昌 you sheng ze liezhe bai   優勝則劣者敗 Youhai hui   游海會 Yuanbang  院塝 Yuanzu chongguang dingzuo huangdi   元祖重光鼎祚皇帝 yue   粵 Yuexi   越析 Yunnan wang  雲南王 zanpu zhong   贊普鍾 Zantuoquduo   贊陁崛多 Zhang Daoyu   張道裕 Zhang Shengwen  張勝溫

181

182

C H I N E SE C HA R AC T E R S

Zhang Weizhong   張惟忠 zhao   詔 zhaomu   昭穆 zheng   正 Zheng Hui   鄭回 zhenjie ci   貞節祠 zhennü   貞女 Zhenzi fujing lingdi   鎮子褔景靈帝 zhimindi   殖民地 zhizhou  知州 Zhongguo minzu   中國民族 zhongwei   中圍 zhongxia   中夏 zhongzu   種族 zhu   助 zhu shenji   助神機 Zhuang Qiao   莊蹻 zi suilei   資隨類 zongguan   總管 zongjiao   宗教 zui lingyi   最靈異 Zunsheng fomu   尊勝佛母

A BBR EV I AT IONS

DZJP

Dali congshu. Dazangjing pian 大理丛书. 大藏经篇. Edited by Yang Shiyu 杨世钰, Zhao Yinsong 赵寅松, and Guo Huiqing 郭惠青. 5 vols. Beijing: Minzu chubanshe, 2008. FZP Dali congshu. Fangzhi pian 大理丛书. 方志篇. Edited by Yang Shiyu 杨 世钰, Zhao Yinsong 赵寅松, Guo Huiqing 郭惠青, and Li Gong 李公. 10 vols. Beijing: Minzu chubanshe, 2007. JSP Dali congshu. Jinshi pian 大理丛书. 金石篇. Edited by Yang Shiyu 杨世 钰 and Zhang Shufang 张树芳. 10 vols. Beijing: Zhongguo shehui kexue chubanshe, 1993. T Taishō shinshū daizōkyō 大正新脩大藏經. Edited by Takakusu Junjirō 高楠順次郎 and Watanabe Kaigyoku 渡邊海旭. Tokyo: Taishō Issaikyō Kankōkai, 1924–1932. TZ Taishō shinshū Daizōkyō zuzō 大正新修大藏經圖像. Edited by Takakusu Junjirō 高楠順次郎 and Ono Genmyō 小野玄妙. Tokyo: Daizō Shuppan, 1932–1934. YNSLCK Yunnan shiliao congkan 云南史料丛刊. Edited by Fang Guoyu 方国瑜. 13 vols. Kunming: Yunnan daxue chubanshe, 1998–2001. ZZ Dai Nihon zoku Zōkyō 大日本續藏經. Kyoto: Zōkyō Shoin, 1905–1912.

NOTES

N O T E S T O I N T R O DU C T IO N

1.  The City of Virtue’s Source (Deyuancheng), located in Dali Prefecture’s Eryuan County, is the site of the widow martyr Baijie’s legendary self-sacrifice. 2.  I use the term “elite” as a broad category for those at the top of the social hierarchy who sponsored and created the sources I use. The identities of these elites change over time: in the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms they are the ruling families and top officials (including Buddhist monks) of the court; after the Ming conquest they include local and nonlocal state officials, local degree-holders, and travelers; and for the contemporary period they are the scholars who produce works on Dali (specifically, Bai) culture and history. It is in the contemporary period that I can finally explore how nonelites represent Baijie in relation to gender and ethnicity. 3.  Shahar and Weller, “Introduction,” 2. 4.  Bynum, “Introduction,” 2. 5. Ibid. 6. Daly, Beyond God the Father. 7.  Sangren, “Female Gender in Chinese Religious Symbols.” 8. Baptandier, The Lady of Linshui, 261–262. 9.  Foucault’s argument that sexuality as a discrete part of human identity is a modern concept has informed the work of scholars such as Judith Butler and Thomas ­Laqueur, who argue against the idea that gender is to culture as sex is to nature. Instead, “scientific” ideas of sex, sexuality, and the body are expressed in language, which necessarily reflects the power structures of the culture that produces it. 10.  Barlow, “Theorizing Woman.” 11.  Watson, “Standardizing the Gods,” 297–298. 12.  J. Smith, Map Is Not Territory, 101. As Talal Asad observes, this is misleading given that all religious phenomena appear in specific historical contexts. Asad, Genealogies of Religion, 7–8. 13.  See Padma, Vicissitudes of the Goddess, on how in India the great goddesses Kālī and Durga retained some village characteristics even after brahmans incorporated them into universalizing discourses of śakti and prakṛti’s feminine power. 14.  Cohen, “Naga, Yaksini, Buddha,” 374–380; Faure, “Space and Place in Chinese Religious Traditions,” 339.

186

N O T E S T O I N T R O DU C T IO N

15. Faure, The Power of Denial, 316. 16.  Freedman, “On the Sociological Study of Chinese Religion,” 20; Wolf, “Introduction,” 17–18. 17.  Duara, “Superscribing Symbols,” 779–780, 791; Katz, Demon Hordes and Burning Boats, 114–115; Dean, Lord of the Three in One, 58–60. 18. Kang, The Cult of the Fox, 159; Szonyi, “Making Claims about Standardization and Orthopraxy in Late Imperial China,” 49. Both Kang and Szonyi note that not all officials actively proscribed such cults, and those who tried were not always successful. 19.  Watson, “Standardizing the Gods,” 276–277; Kleeman, A God’s Own Tale, 49–50. 20. Dean, Lord of the Three in One, 58–60. 21. Makley, The Violence of Liberation, 10; Butler, Bodies That Matter, 18. 22.  Chen, “From Exclusive Xia to Inclusive Zhu-Xia,” 196–197. 23.  This language of barbarism comes from Roman terminology, which does not necessarily apply to the Chinese world. Scholars such as Nicola di Cosmo and Lydia Liu have challenged translating terms such as yi and man as “barbarian” because (for di Cosmo) they elide the distinctions between those Chinese terms and (for Liu) they reinforce colonial power relations. See di Cosmo, Ancient China and Its Enemies, 100–104; Liu, The Clash of Empires, 31–39. While I attend to the specific terms used for Dali’s population, I still find that the larger contrast between Chinese and yi, man, di, or rong aligns closely enough to the civilized-barbarian binary to justify using the concept of “barbarian” to discuss Chinese views of uncivilized others. Moreover, the translation of these Chinese terms as “barbarian” may have gained currency in Western scholarship as the result of British officials’ strategies to impose unequal treaties on Qing China, as Liu argues, but their use within China also occurred within unequal power structures. 24.  Harrell, “Introduction,” 4–7. 25. Giersch, Asian Borderlands, 146–149. 26.  Sutton, “Myth Making on an Ethnic Frontier,” 458. 27.  Duara, “Knowledge and Power in the Discourse of Modernity,” 76. 28.  Man shu, 72. 29. Kang, The Cult of the Fox, 27–29. Male foxes are also associated with barbarism in ways that reinforce stereotypes of barbarian masculinity. 30.  Harrell, “Introduction,” 11. 31. Elton, Frontiers of the Roman Empire, 4. 32.  van Schendel, “Geographies of Knowing, Geographies of Ignorance”; Scott, The Art of Not Being Governed. 33. Ibid., 656. 34.  von Glahn, The Country of Streams and Grottoes; Herman, Amid the Clouds and Mist. 35.  For the effects of the Huichang persecution, see Sen, “Astronomical Tomb Paintings from Xuanhua,” 48; for the Yongli Emperor, see Struve, “The Southern Ming, 1644– 1662,” 679–710; for the Panthay Rebellion, see Atwill, The Chinese Sultanate. 36. Davies, Yün-nan, 343–344. 37.  See Blackmore, “The Ethnological Problems Connected with Nanchao”; and



N O T E S T O I N T R O DU C T IO N A N D C HA P T E R 1 

187

Backus, The Nan-chao Kingdom and T’ang China’s Southwestern Frontier. James C. Scott still presents the Nanzhao (as Nan Chao) population as Thai (Tai), though he notes that the Tai-ness of Nanzhao has been contested since the publication of Backus’s book. Scott, The Art of Not Being Governed, 141 and 368n32. 38. Hsu, Under the Ancestors’ Shadow; Fitzgerald, The Tower of Five Glories. Liang Yongjia offers a compelling defense of Hsu’s depiction of Xizhou society. Liang observes that the merchants of Xizhou probably did represent themselves as Chinese, largely because the distinctions between Bai and Han were not salient for them and the minzu system was not yet in place. See Liang Yongjia, “The ‘Ethnic Error’ in Under the Ancestors’ Shadow and Dali Society in the Period of the Nationalist Government,” 79–81. 39.  Wu, “Culture Change and Ethnic Identity among Minorities in China.” 40.  Notar, “Wild Histories,” 63. 41.  Wang Mingke, Huaxia bianyuan, 410. Wang additionally argues that people invoke ethnic categories as part of competition for resources, expanding and contracting ethnic boundaries as necessary. 42. Scott, The Art of Not Being Governed, 241. 43. Brubaker, Ethnicity without Groups. 44.  Hou Han shu 86:2846, 2849. 45. Saussure, Course in General Linguistics, 122–127. Paradigmatic associations refer to symbols that perform the same role, while syntagmatic associations refer to symbols that appear next to each other. Bernard Faure invokes these categories in his study of Bodhidharma as textual and religious paradigm. See Faure, “Bodhidharma as Textual and Religious Paradigm,” 191–195. As Jacques Derrida argues, Charles S. Peirce’s semiotics allows for the “endless play of signs” because it does not posit a binary relationship between the signifier and signified as found in Saussure. This poststructuralist approach may ultimately be more compelling when discussing semiotics in general, but Saussure’s theories have heuristic value in analyzing Baijie’s significance over time. See Peirce, Collected Papers of Charles Sanders Peirce, 2:227–242; Derrida, Of Grammatology, 47; Liu, The Clash of Empires, 7–11. 46. Faure, The Fluid Pantheon, 14. 47. Wedemeyer, Making Sense of Tantric Buddhism, 3–13. 48. Barthes, Mythologies, 116. 49.  Manuscript reproductions of Dali’s Buddhist texts appear in the five-volume set Dali congshu. Dazangjing pian (hereafter abbreviated DZJP), which was published in 2008. I discuss this further in Chapter 1. N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 1

1.  Chapin, “A Long Roll of Buddhist Images (IV),” 136–137; Li Lin-ts’an, Nanzhao Dali guo xin ziliao de zonghe yanjiu, 47; Lee Yü-min, “Nanzhao Dali fojiao diaoke chutan,” 367–372, and “Nanzhao Dali Daheitian tuxiang yanjiu,” 35; Howard, “Buddhist Monuments of Yunnan.” 2.  Hou Chong, “Dali guo xiejing yanjiu.” 3.  This is more of a problem in European-language scholarship on the Nanzhao

188

N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 1

and Dali; see the various articles by Angela Howard; Albert Lutz’s introduction to Der Goldschatz der drei Pagoden; and Alexander Soper’s additions to Helen B. Chapin’s Long Roll of Buddhist Images. 4.  See Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi. 5.  By “Sinitic” I am referring to the script invented in China but also used in Japan, Korea, Vietnam, and the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms. To my knowledge, there are no major historical works on the Dali region in other scripts. 6. Emperor Han Wudi founded the former in 109 BCE in the Dian region (­modern-day Kunming); Emperor Han Mingdi founded the latter in 69 CE on the modern-day Burma-China border. Han shu 28a:1601; Hou Han shu 2:114. 7.  Zhang Qian reported to the court of Han Wudi that he had seen Chinese goods in the Central Asian kingdom of Bactria that came from Shu (Sichuan) merchants by way of India. The northern trade route between Bactria and China was cut off by the ­Xiongnu conflict, so the Indian route would have provided a safer alternative for valuable economic exchange. See Han shu 95:3841. However, the envoys sent to officially open this route were detained by the Dian king for four years. For the natural resources in Yunnan, see Hou Han shu 86:2846; and Bielenstein, “The Institutions of Later Han,” 584. 8.  Han shu 95:3838. 9.  A golden seal bearing the inscription “Seal of the Dian King” was found in a tomb at the Shizhai shan Dian archaeological site. Other findings from this site provide information about Dian culture not found in Chinese sources, such as the centrality of bronze drums and metal pillars in ritual, particularly human and animal sacrifice. Some Chinese objects, such as crossbows, were found in royal tombs, but there is no evidence of pervasive Chinese influence. See Huang Yilu, Dianguo shi, 154–157; Pirazzolit’Serstevens, La civilisation du royaume de Dian à l’époque Han, 53–66. 10. Pirazzoli-t’Serstevens, La civilisation du royaume de Dian à l’époque Han, 53–66. 11.  Hou Han shu 86:2848–2849. 12.  In the Three Kingdoms period following the fall of the Han, the Shu Han (221– 263) prime minister Zhuge Liang led a military campaign to conquer Nanzhong, a region that encompassed much of modern-day Yunnan. After his victory, rather than try to impose direct rule on the area (which would have required considerable resources) he allowed the native rulers to retain leadership positions and granted them official titles. Sanguo zhi 35:919n2. See also Backus, The Nan-chao Kingdom and T’ang China’s Southwestern Frontier, 6. 13.  The other five zhao were Mengsui, Yuexi, Dengdan, Langqiong, and Shilang, with the occasional addition of Shipang and Yiluoshi. 14.  Blackmore, “The Ethnological Problems Connected with Nanchao,” 60. 15.  For a discussion of this issue, see Backus, The Nan-chao Kingdom and T’ang China’s Southwestern Frontier, 46–52; and Blackmore, “The Ethnological Problems Connected with Nanchao,” 64–65. The term zhao was also used in the title of Fu Jian (Fu Zhao), ruler of the Former Qin (351–394), and that of Huan Xuan (Huan Zhao), founder of the short-lived Chu kingdom of 403–404, showing that its use in the Nanzhao could have resulted from northern rather than southern influence. Fu Jian was a member of the



N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 1 

189

Di clan, and according to the Jin shu, Huan Xuan’s use of the title zhao was criticized by an official as something never done by the Han and Wei rulers but only by the “northern slaves.” Therefore, its use by the Nanzhao cannot be seen as evidence of “Chinese” influence. Jin shu 99:2599–2600; Wang Jilin, Tangdai Nanzhao yu Li Tang guanxi zhi yanjiu, 9. 16.  For a detailed study of Nanzhao-Tang relations, see Backus, The Nan-chao Kingdom and T’ang China’s Southwestern Frontier. 17.  Jiu Tang shu 197:5280. 18. Backus, The Nan-chao Kingdom and T’ang China’s Southwestern Frontier, 44; Bacot et al., Documents de Touen-houang relatifs à l’histoire du Tibet, 49. 19.  Jiu Tang shu 197:5281. The Old Tibetan Chronicle also reports on the celebrations of this alliance. Bacot et al., The Nan-chao Kingdom and T’ang China’s Southwestern Frontier, 149–152. 20. The Dehua bei records that Nanzhao officials received insignia ranging from turquoise, the highest rank, to gold, silver inlaid with gold, and silver. Takata, “A Note on the Lijiang Tibetan Inscription,” 164, 167. 21.  Zizhi tongjian, 631; Xin Tang shu 222b:6281. 22. The Xin Tang shu explains this title as the “barbarian word for lord [ jun].” Xin Tang shu, 222b:6281. Harvey, History of Burma, 15. The first Nanzhao king to adopt this title was Xungequan (r. 808–809). 23.  Shiji 116:2991–2997. 24.  “Black barbarians” designated the people of Suizhou (in the southwestern part of modern-day Sichuan), the “Eastern Cuan,” and other “barbarians” such as the Dujin, Mo, and Xie, while “white barbarians” referred to the “Western Cuan” in general and specifically to the “Nongdong barbarians” of modern-day Yaoan. 25.  Man shu, 74. All translations from Chinese sources are mine unless otherwise noted. 26.  Xin Tang shu 222c:6317. 27.  Bacot et al., Documents de Touen-houang relatifs à l’histoire du Tibet, 149–150. Man in Middle Chinese was maen, according to the Baxter-Sagart reconstruction. 28. Dotson, The Old Tibetan Annals, 119, 122; Bacot et al., Documents de Touen-houang relatifs à l’histoire du Tibet, 150. Some scholars argue that Mywa transliterates Miao ethnicity, but this reading does not fit the historical context as well. No Tang or Nanzhao records refer to Miao in this region. Beckwith, “The Revolt of 755 in Tibet,” 280n10; The Tibetan Empire in Central Asia, 65n64. 29. Backus, The Nan-chao Kingdom and T’ang China’s Southwestern Frontier, 50. See Li Gong, Nanzhao shigao, 191–193, for a discussion of different theories surrounding the Nanzhao rulers’ ethnicity. His own view is that the Nanzhao rulers were ancestors of the Bai people, but this is based on a dubious reading of the character feng as bai. I discuss this theory further below. 30.  Fang Guoyu, “Tangdai qianqi Erhai quyu de buzu,” 45. 31.  Man shu, 72. The Xin Tang shu edits this to say that Nanzhao “maidens and widows had promiscuous relations with people without restrictions, and on their wedding night the secret lovers would send them off.” Xin Tang shu 222a:6269.

190

N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 1

32. Abramson, Ethnic Identity in Tang China, 20–21. 33.  Jiu Tang shu 197:5280. 34.  Hou Han shu 86:2848–2849. The disparity between the Meng kings’ appearance in the Nanzhao tuzhuan and Han histories’ descriptions of the Ailao does not necessarily contradict Tang claims that the Meng identified as the Ailao’s descendants. Ailao dress and adornments could have changed over the intervening centuries, or the Meng could have branched off from the larger group at an earlier date and developed their own style of dress. 35.  Of course, the Li rulers of the Tang also claimed descent from Turkic peoples, and some emperors embraced this heritage by dressing up in Central Asian clothes; Emperor Taizong (r. 599–649) even adopted the title “Heavenly Qaghan.” See Abramson, Ethnic Identity in Tang China, 177. However, in Tang interactions with Nanzhao, the former appealed to the discourse of Chineseness in claiming the civilized role and relegating the latter to barbarian status. For the connection between Nanzhao headgear and that of Burma and the Yi (identified here by the pejorative term “Lolo”), see Blackmore, “The Ethnological Problems Connected with Nanchao,” 67. 36.  Of all the Nanzhao kings, only Shilong’s name did not follow this system, but the characters in his name violated Tang taboos and exacerbated tension between Nanzhao and Tang. The Xin Tang shu records that the Tang emperor Yizong (r. 860–874) cut off the tributary relationship with Nanzhao because the long in Shilong was part of Tang Xuanzong’s personal name, Li Longji. Xin Tang shu 222b:6282. 37.  Paul Pelliot made the connection between Nanzhao rulers’ names and the names of legendary Burmese kings in 1904, and in 1938 Ling Chunsheng found further evidence of the patronymic linkage system among the Mosuo and Hani people of Yunnan. See Pelliot, “Deux itinéraires de Chine en Inde à la fin du VIIIe siècle,” 166; Ling Chunsheng, “Tangdai Yunnan de wuman yu baiman kao,” 64–66. 38.  Before being conquered by the Meng clan in the 730s, this group first submitted to the Tang in 656 and then to Tibet in 680. Zizhi tongjian 200:627. 39.  Xi Erhe fengtu ji, 218. 40. Ibid. 41.  Li Gong, Nanzhao shigao, 67. There may also have been analogous relationships between such offices as the Nanzhao qingpingguan (grand councilor) and the Tang zaixiang (prime minister), but this equation could also result from the Chinese official histories’ need to explain Nanzhao terminology in familiar terms. 42.  For example, the qingpingguan category included buxie, tanchuo, and jiuzan, and other top officials were known as qiuwang. This information comes from Tang, not Nanzhao, sources. Xin Tang shu 222a:6267–6268; Man shu, 76. 43.  Jiu Tang shu 197:5281. Sun Taichu, Yunnan gudai shike congkao, 58–59, argues convincingly that it was not Zheng Hui but another Chinese advisor who wrote the text of the inscription. 44.  For example, loyalty (zhong), filial piety (xiao), and lord and vassal (jun chen); and yinyang, myriad things (wanwu), and heavenly principle (tianli). Dehua bei, 3–4. 45. Ibid., 4–5.



N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 1 

191

46.  Chavannes, “Une inscription du royaume de Nan-tchao,” 389–390. 47.  Xin Tang shu 222b:6282. 48.  Zizhi tongjian 249:8078. 49.  Bacot et al., Documents de Touen-houang relatifs à l’histoire du Tibet, 150. 50.  In considering the use of “ethnicity,” I follow Anthony D. Smith’s set of characteristics: shared name, descent myth, history, culture, territory, and sense of solidarity. Smith, The Ethnic Origins of Nations, 22–30. 51.  Huang Yilu, Dianguo shi, 154–157; Pirazzoli-t’Serstevens, La civilisation du royaume de Dian à l’époque Han, 53–66. 52.  See Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi, 297–303. It is still possible the Way of Celestial Masters reached Yunnan during the Nanzhao kingdom. For example, the Demon Lords (guizhu) mentioned in the eighth-century Man shu may be related to the Way of Demons (guidao) taught by the Celestial Masters in the Sichuan region during the Han dynasty. Terry Kleeman argues that these teachings were especially attractive to the “non-Chinese.” Man shu, 13; Kleeman, Great Perfection, 75. 53.  See Li Gong, Nanzhao shigao, 176; Li Donghong, Baizu fojiao mizong, 176–189; Yang Zhengye, Baizu benzhu wenhua; Zhang Xilu, Dali Baizu fojiao mizong, 221. 54.  Da Zhou gu Hedong zhou cishi zhi bei, 2–3. 55.  Lee Yü-min, “Nanzhao Dali fojiao diaoke chutan,” 356. 56.  Two are based on tenuous identifications of secondary figures in the grottoes and one on a reading of the name Chengzhuluo as Xinuluo. See Hou Chong, Yunnan yu Ba Shu fojiao yanjiu lungao, 128n1; and Li Jiarui, “Shibao shan shiku wangzhe xiang san ku shishi,” 61–62. These identifications rely on insufficient evidence and unreliable sources. Considering the preponderance of Dali-era inscriptions at Shibao shan and the identical dress worn by Nanzhao and Dali kings, there is little reason to conclude that these three figures were Nanzhao rather than Dali royalty or that the Nanzhao court sponsored any grottoes at this site. 57.  Xin Tang shu 222b:6290. Tang records refer to Shilong as Qiulong because both characters in Shilong violated Tang naming taboos. 58.  Li Gong, Nanzhao shigao, 153. 59.  The Ming preface to the Nanzhao tuzhuan states that the scroll originally bore the date Wenjing 1 (945), the first year in the reign of Duan Siping’s son Duan Siying. Chapin, “A Long Roll of Buddhist Images (I),” figs. 5–6. The original copy of the Nanzhao tuzhuan is currently held in the private Yūrinkan museum in Kyoto. 60.  Helen B. Chapin, John Guy, and Angela Howard have posited Southeast Asian sources for Acuoye Guanyin’s iconography, with Chapin and Guy pointing to Śrīvijaya and Howard to Champa. See Chapin, “Yünnanese Images of Avalokiteśvara,” 132; Guy, “The Avalokiteśvara of Yunnan and Some South East Asian Connections”; and Howard, “Buddhist Monuments of Yunnan.” Marie Thérèse de Mallmann, Lee Yü-min, and Ku Cheng-mei trace Acuoye Guanyin’s iconography to India, though Lee believes it entered the Dali region via Southeast Asia. Mallmann, “Notes sur les bronzes du Yunnan représentant Avalokiteśvara,” 579, 588; Lee Yü-min, “Zhang Shengwen Fanxiang juan zhi Guanyin yanjiu,” 233; Ku Cheng-mei, Cong tianwang chuantong dao fowang chuantong,

192

N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 1

435. Hou Chong agrees that Acuoye Guanyin’s iconography is based on Indian models but claims that it entered the Dali region from Tang China. Hou Chong, Yunnan yu Ba Shu fojiao yanjiu lungao, 5. 61. Lutz, Der Goldschatz der drei Pagoden, 186; Chutiwongs, “The Iconography of Avalokiteśvara in Mainland Southeast Asia,” 477–483. 62.  Chün-fang Yü reads the Nanzhao tuzhuan account of Acuoye Guanyin proselytizing in the form of an Indian monk as representing the presence of such Buddhist missionaries in the region during the Nanzhao kingdom. Overall, her study of Guanyin in Dali focuses more on the Qing dynasty Baiguo yinyou (History of the Bai kingdom) than the Nanzhao tuzhuan. Yü, “Der Guanyin-Kult in Yunnan,” 33. 63.  Nanzhao tuzhuan, 145–146. 64.  Nanzhao tuzhuan, 149. Richard D. McBride II has argued convincingly that until the tenth century the term “esoteric” (mi) referred to the highest form of Mahāyāna teachings and not a separate tradition. McBride, “Is There Really ‘Esoteric’ Buddhism?” 352. In the Nanzhao tuzhuan, the presence of other terminology from the esoteric system leads me to also interpret the term “esoteric” here as part of that system. I address the thorny issue of defining Chinese esoteric Buddhism below. 65.  Nanzhao tuzhuan, 146; Ku, Cong tianwang chuantong dao fowang chuantong, 446. I am grateful to Zhaohua Yang for helping with the interpretation of the phrase “shengjia lin pen.” Though I agree with Ku’s observation concerning abhiṣeka imagery, I do not agree with her reading of the phrase “obtained for himself the true form of Guanyin” (zi huo Guanyin zhi zhenxing) in the Nanzhao tuzhuan, which she interprets as Longshun becoming the true form of Guanyin. From the context, I believe this line refers to Longshun obtaining the statue of the true form of Guanyin. Nanzhao tuzhuan, 150. 66.  See Davidson, Indian Esoteric Buddhism, chap. 4, for an overview of this ceremony. 67.  In Chinese: moheluocuo, tulunwang, danbiqianjian, sifang qing wei yijia, piaoxin, Meng Longhao. Nanzhao tuzhuan, 137. I am grateful to Leonard van der Kuijp for suggesting this Tibetan transliteration of danbiqianjian, which remains tentative. 68.  Xin Tang shu 222b:6291. 69.  This is based on an essay by Fang Guoyu on the various names of the Bai people. His reading of feng as bai seems to be rooted in his belief in the historicity of the ancient Bai kingdom thought to precede Nanzhao. See Fang Guoyu, “Guanyu Baizu de mingcheng wenti,” 15. Hou Chong has shown the Bai kingdom to be a Ming invention; see chapter 6 of Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi. I discuss the legend of the Bai kingdom in Chapter 3. The Baxter-Sagart reconstruction in Middle Chinese renders bai as baek and feng as pjowng, which does not support Fang’s theory. 70.  “Bai” does appear twice with a vague meaning: Zhang Lejinqiu is introduced as the “Three Plains Bai/White Great Leader General,” and the village head Li Mangqiu alerts the Nanzhao king that “from the time of my grandfather there has been a Bai/ white statue [baizi yingxiang] on the central mountain in our territory,” indicating the gold statue of Acuoye Guanyin. See Nanzhao tuzhuan, 140, 147. The infrequency of this term’s usage, especially when compared to that of “Feng people,” suggests that Bai was



N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 1 

193

not used as an ethnonym during the Nanzhao, but it leaves open the question of what it meant in these two cases. At the very least, this use of the character bai provides a foundation for later attempts to construct histories of a “Bai kingdom.” 71.  Nanzhao tuzhuan, 148–149; Zhou yi 1:10. The term zhaomu appears throughout the Chinese classics, such as the Shijing, Liji, and Zuozhuan. 72.  Hou Chong, Yunnan yu Ba Shu fojiao yanjiu lungao, 14. Nanzhao tuzhuan, 148, 150. The other reference to rushi in the Nanzhao tuzhuan depicts them as being surprised to see the drawing of Acouye Guanyin’s fossilized boot that is submitted to the court when the Nanzhao king begins his investigation into the bodhisattva’s deeds. See Nanzhao tuzhuan, 146. 73.  Nanzhao tuzhuan, 147. 74.  This conforms to Luo Zhao’s interpretation that the Nanzhao tuzhuan marks the Nanzhao court’s attempt to distance themselves from the fading powers of Tang and Tibet. Luo Zhao, “Dali Chongsheng si Qianxun ta yu Jianji dazhong zhi mijiao tuxiang,” 475. 75.  I address historiographical issues related to this text and other Ming-Qing records in Chapter 3. 76.  Nanzhao yeshi, 775; Ji gu Dian shuo ji, 661–662. 77.  Zheng Maisi reportedly sponsored the construction of the Buddhist temple Puming si and the casting of ten thousand Buddhist images to atone for slaughtering eight hundred members of the Meng clan. Nanzhao yeshi, 782. 78. Ibid., 783. 79.  Xi Erhe fengtu ji, 218. 80.  These are Duan Sheng, Duan Zhongguo, Duan Quange, Duan Fuke, and Duan Xunquan. See the Man shu and Dehua bei. 81.  Duan shi yu sanshiqi bu huimeng bei, 6, gives an account of this alliance’s formation. The Yuan shi mentions that these thirty-seven groups were split into three routes (lu). Yuan shi 7:135. 82.  The boundaries of Dali territory are given by the Song Yunnan maima ji, 245, and the Yuan shi, 61:1457. Duan Yuming, Dali guo shi, 99. 83.  Yunnan maima ji, 245; for descriptions of the eight administrative divisions, see Duan Yuming, Dali guo shi, 103–108. 84.  They also added the apparently honorific title of yanbi. Duan Yuming, Dali guo shi, 127. 85.  Yuan shi 166:3910. 86.  Nanzhao yeshi dianzhu, 53. This text’s list of the Duan rulers and their relationship with the Gao prime ministers conforms to the limited information about this period in Dali and Yuan sources, so I will still use it for reconstructing parts of Dali history. 87.  Yuan shi 4:59. 88.  Yu hai, 330. 89.  Song shi 488:14073. He was also granted the honorific titles Grand Master of the Palace with Golden Seal and Purple Ribbon (jinzi guanglu daifu), Acting Minister of Works ( jianjiao sikong), and Supreme Pillar of State (shang zhuguo). The translations of these titles come from Hucker, A Dictionary of Official Titles in Imperial China.

194

N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 1

90.  Yunnan maima ji, 246. 91.  Ling wai daida, 252. People from Ziqi, Luodian, and Temo sold horses in the Song region of Guangnan (modern-day Guizhou Province). Dali was also known for its knives, elephant-hide armor, shawls, and shells. 92. The Song shi merely states that “the Dali kingdom was Nanzhao during the Tang,” then gives some details of the Dali missions to the Song court. Song shi 488:14072. Some confusion stemmed from the fact that the Nanzhao king Shilong called his kingdom Dali, or Great Propriety, which has the same pronunciation as the Dali characters used by the Duan clan that mean Great Principle: the Guihai yuheng zhi noted that “in Tang histories the characters li (propriety) and li (principle) differed, but their origins are still unclear.” Shilong and his son Longshun both changed the names of their kingdom (Longshun to Da Fengminguo, as recorded in the Nanzhao tuzhuan), so Song liter­ ati read other titles such as Dachanghe (under Zheng Maisi) and the Dali of the Duan clan as part of the same phenomenon. Guihai yuheng zhi, 232; Zhidao Yunnan lu, 177. 93.  Song shi 496:14231. 94. Ibid. 95.  The full list of texts is as follows: the Wenxuan (Literary selections), Wujing guangzhu (Extensively annotated five classics), Wuzang lun (Treatise on the five viscera), Da bore (indicating the Mahā-prajñā-pāramitā sūtra), Wuchen zhu (Five officials commentary), Chunqiu houyu (Later remarks on the spring and autumn annals), Sanshi jiazhu (Annotated three histories), Duda bencao guangzhu (Extensively annotated collection of materia medica), Shiliu hui xu (Preface to the Sixteen Gatherings), Chuxue ji (Record of initial learning), Zhang Meng yayun (Rhyme in Zhang and Meng), Qieyun (Spelling rhymes), and Yupian (Jade chapters). 96.  Gui hai yuheng zhi, 232. The same anecdote is summarized in the Song shi 198:4956. 97.  Dizang si gu chuang ji, 6. 98.  The earliest text to record this is the Ji gu Dian shuo ji. 99.  This five-volume collection is not without its problems: the poor quality of the reproductions makes their calligraphic script even harder to decipher, red marks on original manuscripts were not reproduced in some cases, and parts of manuscripts have been cut off. 100. The Fanxiang juan has been the subject of several studies: Chapin (and Soper) “A Long Roll of Buddhist Images” I–IV; Li Lin-ts’an, Nanzhao Dali guo xin ziliao de zonghe yanjiu; and Matsumoto, “Chang Sheng-wen’s Long Roll of Buddhist Images,” are the most comprehensive but were published before Dali Buddhist texts became available. Hou Chong, Yunnan yu Ba Shu fojiao yanjiu lungao, incorporates these recent findings but does not take into account Matsumoto’s reconstruction of the scroll. Lee Yü-min’s work incorporates some of the Dali Buddhist texts and Matsumoto’s reconstruction, but she has written articles on different parts of the scroll—Guanyin images, Bhaiṣajyaguru, Mahākāla, and the section with arhats and Chan patriarchs—rather than the whole. See Lee Yü-min, “Zhang Shengwen Fanxiang juan zhi Guanyin yanjiu” and “Fanxiang juan Shijia fohui, luohan, ji zushi xiang zhi yanjiu.”



N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 1 

195

101.  The text reads Lizhen huangdi piaoxin hua, but this would mean “Painted by the Lizhen emperor and Piaoxin.” I follow Hou Chong in suspecting that the character wei, “for,” was originally written at the beginning of this colophon. Hou Chong, Yunnan yu Ba Shu fojiao yanjiu lungao, 100. 102.  Soper includes Alexander Wayman’s translation of the Sanskrit encomium to Prajñāpāramitā in Chapin, “A Long Roll of Buddhist Images (IV),” 134. He reports that the remainder (which he calls a “spell”) contains many corruptions. 103. The cakravartins in frames 81, 64–66, and 85 have the tell-tale crown of Dali (and Nanzhao) kings. They are identifiable as cakravartins from the seven treasures that appear with them: a golden wheel, elephants, horses, pearls, treasury ministers, women, and loyal generals. Other cakravartins without the Nanzhao/Dali crowns appear in frames 94 and 115. 104.  In addition to Shibao shan in Jianchuan, these sites include Boshenwahei in Xichang, Guiyuan si in Xizhou, Santai shan in Luquan (near Kunming), and Dizang si in Kunming. 105.  Da Chongsheng si beiming bing xu, 19; Chongxiu Hongsheng si ji, 499–500. 106.  Lee Yü-min argues that the Buddhist carvings from the first half of the Dali kingdom follow Song models but that those from the second half display a more local style. Lee Yü-min “Nanzhao Dali fojiao diaoke chutan,” 367. She sees Indian models as the foundation for Mahākāla images in Dali, which I discuss below. Lee Yü-min, “Nanzhao Dali Daheitian tuxiang yanjiu,” 35. Angela Howard suspects that carvings of vidyārājas were based on Tibetan models but acknowledges that there is no specific evidence for this. Howard, “The Eight Brilliant Kings of Wisdom of Southwest China,” 104. 107.  Tian Huaqing, “Luelun Baizu dui Zunsheng fomu de xinyang.” 108.  These include the Diamond, Lotus, and Great Perfection of Wisdom Sūtras; commentaries on the Flower Garland, Perfect Enlightenment, and Vimalakirti Sūtras; and scriptures associated with esoteric Buddhism like the Renwang jing and texts dedicated to Mārīcī and Tejaprabha. For a list of Dali kingdom manuscripts, see Hou Chong, “Dali guo xiejing yanjiu,” 19–21. 109.  The extant version of this text dates to 1052, under the Dali kingdom. Hou Chong, Yunnan yu Ba Shu fojiao yanjiu lungao, 13. It was based on Liang Bi’s commentary on Amoghavajra’s version of the Renwang jing and was probably written for an audience that was not terribly literate in the Chinese classical tradition: many of the comments are dictionary definitions of basic terms such as the character yue, which is defined as “a word said at the beginning of a statement.” Huguo sinan chao, 10. 110.  These are the Zhu fo pusa jingang deng qiqing yigui (Ritual procedures for the invitation of buddhas, bodhisattvas, vajra beings, etc.), Jingang daguanding daochang yi (Ritual of the bodhimaṇḍa of the great vajra consecration), and Tongyong qiqing yigui (Invitation ritual procedures for general use). Hou Chong discusses their contents in “Dali guo xiejing yanjiu.” The Tongyong qiqing yigui also contains the Haihui ba mingwang sizhong huaxian gezan (Verses in praise of the four transformations of the eight vidyā-rājas of the oceanic assembly) and Zhuan siya fa ge (Verses on the method of transforming four kinds of karma).

196

N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 1

111.  Both have unverified dates. See Hou Chong, “Dali guo xiejing yanjiu,” 42. One is a Sanskrit syllabary in Brāhmī script, and the other text appears to be the Mahāpratisarāvidyārājñī-dhāraṇī. The Mahāpratisarā-vidyārājñī-dhāraṇī can be found labeled as an “unknown text” in DZJP 3:441–451; the Sanskrit syllabary is mislabeled as a Tibetan text in the same volume, 453–526. I am grateful to Paul Harrison for identifying these texts. 112.  Thanks again to Paul Harrison for pointing this out. 113.  Liebenthal, “Sanskrit Inscriptions from Yunnan (I),” 38; “Sanskrit Inscriptions from Yünnan (II),” 57–59. Liebenthal compared Sanskrit inscriptions on bricks in Dali pagodas with similar bricks from northern China and concluded that the scripts did not derive from each other. However, he also noted that no historical inscriptions in Sanskrit had been found in Yunnan and that all of the Sanskrit dhāraṇīs found in Yunnan were also known in China. With regard to the Sanskrit tomb inscriptions, only three dated to the Dali kingdom. Liebenthal theorized that Dharmadeva introduced his form of the Uṣṇīṣavijayā dhāraṇī to Yunnan in his journey from India to China but was unable to establish it in the North because earlier versions already held sway there. 114.  In Liebenthal, “Sanskrit Inscriptions from Yunnan (I),” he saw much more Indian influence in Dali Buddhism as a whole. However, in “Sanskrit Inscriptions from Yünnan (II)” he had changed his position in light of research that showed Dali pagodas to have been built by Chinese architects much later than previously thought. 115.  Dali xingji, 136; Ji gu Dian shuo ji, 662. 116.  Gu Xi [Shi] yi yue Xiangxing yide lüjie dashi muzhi bing xu, 5–7. This epitaph states that it was written under the Daolong emperor (aka Duan Xiangxing; r. 1239–1251). 117.  Nanzhao yeshi, 783. 118.  Dali guo Xisu lingfeng Mingdi ji, 163. 119.  One example appears along with images of constellations, seed syllables, and svastikas at the beginning of a Siddham-script dhāraṇī found in Qianxun ta; the other appears in the upper left corner of the illustration of a nude man from Fazang si. For the Buddhist use of talismans, see Robson, “Signs of Power,” 133–135, 137–142. 120.  The Mahārāja Longshun appears in frames 41 and 55 and among the other Nanzhao kings in frame 103, where his Indian attire makes him easy to identify. Frames 58, 86, 99, and 101 show scenes from the Nanzhao tuzhuan. This sequence culminates in frame 103 with a scene of all thirteen Nanzhao kings and the wives of the first two rulers along with the central figure, Eleven-Headed Guanyin. 121.  See Sharf, Coming to Terms with Chinese Buddhism, app. 1; McBride, “Is There Really ‘Esoteric’ Buddhism?”; and Orzech, “The ‘Great Teaching of Yoga,’ the Chinese Appropriation of the Tantras, and the Question of Esoteric Buddhism.” 122.  Given these findings, how do we describe the teachings promulgated by the Tang prelates Vajrabodhi (Skt. Jingangzhi) and Amoghavajra? Orzech has convincingly shown that Amoghavajra saw the yoga teachings as the pinnacle of Buddhism but did not see it as an exclusive lineage. Even his disciples who began to present it as an exclusive lineage did not use the term “esoteric.” Orzech, “The ‘Great Teaching of Yoga,’ the Chinese Appropriation of the Tantras, and the Question of Esoteric Buddhism,” 47–54. 123.  White, “Tantra in Practice,” 9.



N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 1 

197

124.  See Davidson, Indian Esoteric Buddhism, chap. 4. 125.  Song gaoseng zhuan, T 2061p712c12–13. 126. A 1233 copy of the Mahā-prajñā-pāramitā sūtra lists the “Dali Kingdom Consecration Great ācārya Zhao Taisheng” (Dali guo guanding da azuoli Zhao Taisheng) and “Consecration ācārya Shi Zhisheng” (Guanding azuoli Shi Zhisheng) as sponsors of the text; and the Dali-era epitaph for the monk Xi Zhi claims that his ancestor served as an ācārya under the Changhe kingdom. DZJP 2:357, 438; Gu Xi [Shi] yi yue Xiangxing yide lüjie dashi muzhi bing xu, 6. The Jingang daguanding daochang yi and Tongyong qiqing yigui prescribe rituals in which an ācārya performs consecration for the emperor. 127.  Li Donghong, Baizu fojiao mizong, 51–54; Howard, “The Dhāraṇī Pillar of Kunming, Yunnan,” 44. 128.  These examples both come from the Dali guo gu Gao Ji muming bing xu written by the monk Yang Junsheng, who possessed both of these titles. Dali guo gu Gao Ji muming bing xu, 11. The compiler of the Huguo sinan chao, the monk Xuan Jian, was also identified as a “Recipient of the Purple Robe.” Huguo sinan chao, 3. 129.  The clearest example of this is in the Jingang daguanding daochang yi. In the “Sequence on Mindfully Reciting the Invocation of Vajrasattva for the Fire Pot Altar Consecration” (huoweng tan guanding Jingangsaduo qiqing niansong cidi), the ritual master visualizes his body as one with Vajrasattva and makes a vow on behalf of the emperor. Jingang daguanding daochang yi, 554–555. 130.  Albert Lutz notes that the inclusion of the deity’s name (preceded by the character oṃ) in this kind of maṇḍala is unusual. Other bīja maṇḍalas only including the bīja associated with the deity, making it decipherable only to the initiated. This maṇḍala was found together with two dhāraṇī texts written in Sinitic script. Lutz, Der Goldschatz der drei Pagoden, 208. 131.  Sørensen, “Esoteric Buddhism in the Nanzhao and Dali Kingdoms (ca. 800– 1253),” 384. 132.  Vidyā-rājas, “brilliant kings,” were originally conceived of as incarnations of mantras and dhāraṇīs, also called vidyā, but came to be known as embodiments of wisdom (also vidyā) and manifestations of certain buddhas. Goepper, Aizen-Myōō, 9. Dali kingdom examples of the distinctive set of eight include an illustration of a nude man whose body is labeled with their names (along with the directions and other terms); carvings at cave 6 of Shibao shan; and the text Haihui bamingwang sizhong huaxian gezan appended to the Tongyong qiqing yigui (see n. 106 above). For discussions of these sets, see Hou Chong, “Dali guo xiejing yanjiu,” 44–45, 59; Hou Chong, Yunnan Azhalijiao jingdian yanjiu, 69–81; and Tongyong qiqing yigui, 531. For the set more commonly used in Tang-Song Buddhism, see Damiao jingang da ganlu Junnali yanman chisheng foding jing, T 965p340c12–p341a16. 133.  Zhang Weizhong and Heze Shenhui were said to be connected through Cizhou Zhiru. Lee Yü-min, “Fanxiang juan Shijia fohui, luohan, ji zushi xiang zhi yanjiu,” 207; Yanagida Seizan, “Jinne no shōzō,” 238. 134.  Dianshi ji, 83; Bo gu tongji qianshu jiaozhu, 58. 135.  Both Matsumoto and Lee Yü-min argue that this arrangement does not reflect

198

N O T E S T O C HA P T E R S 1 A N D 2

the painting’s original sequence but would reconstruct it differently: Matsumoto places frames 56–57 between 51 and 52 to restore the correct historical sequence, while Lee thinks that frame 58 does not belong in the sequence because it throws off the symmetry with the sixteen arhats in frames 23–38. Matsumoto, “Chang Sheng-wen’s Long Roll of Buddhist Images,” 194–196; Lee Yü-min, “Fanxiang juan Shijia fohui, luohan, ji zushi xiang zhi yanjiu,” 203. This section could have missing or misplaced images, but I am not convinced by either reconstruction. Matsumoto lacks proof of the real historical sequence of these monks, and the Indian monk Guanyin in frame 58 does not fit in any other part of the scroll. Thematically, he could belong to the later section that also includes scenes from the Nanzhao tuzhuan, but iconographically he is not a match. 136. Sen, Buddhism, Diplomacy, and Trade, 105. 137.  This issue is also political, considering that the official position of the PRC is that Nanzhao and Dali were “local regimes” (difang zhengquan), not independent kingdoms. Treating Dali Buddhism as a part of Song Buddhism supports the view that the Dali region and Yunnan as a whole were always part of China. N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 2

1.  Hou Chong, “Cong Fude Longnü dao Baijie Amei,” 357. 2. Saussure, Course in General Linguistics, 122–127. 3.  Lee cites the Daikoku tenjin hō for this reference, but it actually comes from the Dapiluzhena chengfo jing shu, T 1796p687c1. Lee Yü-min, “Nanzhao Dali Daheitian tu­ xiang yanjiu,” 24; Daikoku tenjin hō, T 1287p356b3. Iyanaga Nobumi argues convincingly that the Daikoku tenjin hō was actually composed in Japan. Iyanaga Nobumi, Daikokuten hensō, 88. 4. Āṭavaka (in frame 10) follows an image of Śākyamuni fending off Mara’s attack, which Matsumoto reads in relation to a passage from the Azhabuju yuanshuai dajiang shangfo tuoluoni xiuxing yigui that credits Āṭavaka with suppressing Mara’s attack. Matsumoto, “Chang Sheng-wen’s Long Roll of Buddhist Images,” 122; T 1239p187c29–188a12. 5.  Matsumoto, “Chang Sheng-wen’s Long Roll of Buddhist Images,” 80, 83. 6. Getty, The Gods of Northern Buddhism, 172. I have found examples of the later form prior to the twelfth century. 7.  Many texts describe nāga kings as having hoods of multiple snake heads, and the Zunsheng foding xiu yuga fa guiyi includes images of these figures in the maṇḍala for bringing rain. See T 973p381b. This text was written by Śubhakarasiṃha (Chn. Shanwuwei) in the early eighth century but only survives in Japan; it is possible the illustrations were created in Japan rather than China. 8. Whitfield, The Art of Central Asia, 314. 9. The label for frame 112 reads “Namo Jiyuli Guanyin” (Praise to Jāṅgulī Avalokiteśvara). Alexander Soper and Lee Yü-min each identify this figure as Jāṅgulī, though this form of her name does not appear in the Buddhist canon. Chapin, “A Long Roll of Buddhist Images (IV),” 117; Lee Yü-min, “Zhang Shengwen Fanxiang juan zhi Guanyin yanjiu,” 241–242. Michel Strickmann gives an overview of Jāṅgulī in Chinese Magical Medicine, 151–152.



N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 2 

199

10.  Chapin first drew the conclusion that the Fanxiang juan was primarily indebted to Tang art. Later scholars, such as Matsumoto and Lee Yü-min, see more evidence of Song artistic conventions. 11.  The latter is a male deity represented by a plaque inscribed with his name. N. Cheung, Women’s Ritual in China, 274–275. The term “fude” is generic enough that this shared name could be a coincidence. It is also possible that the two figures were connected at some point in history, but I have seen no evidence of this. 12.  I am grateful to Hou Chong for alerting me to the existence of this text. Li Xiaorong, Dunhuang mijiao wenxian lungao, 155. Li gives the full text of the Pishamen yuanqi (S. 4622) at 154–155. 13.  Hou Chong, “Cong Fude Longnü dao Baijie Amei,” 360–361. 14. Schafer, The Divine Woman, 29, 32. 15.  Nanzhao tuzhuan, 148. 16.  Lian Ruizhi interprets these ritual procedures as the women’s counterpart to the tablets in ancestral temples; she claims that the Indian monk bestowed these dragon maiden rituals upon the Nanzhao queens Xunmijiao and Menghui to let them become “divine” women. Lian Ruizhi, Yincang de zuxian, 94. I see no basis for this interpretation, as the Nanzhao tuzhuan presents no information about Xunmijiao and Menghui, aside from their interactions with the Indian monk, or about the substance of these dragon maiden rituals. 17.  Cleary wrote the introduction to Shambhala Press’s publication of the Fajie yuan­liu tu (Illustration of the origins of the dharma realm), a Qing re-creation of parts of the Fanxiang juan. Cleary translates “Dasheng Fude Longnü” as “Grace the Nāga Girl, Great Sage.” Cleary, “List of the Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, and Other Figures Found in The Buddha Scroll.” Ding Guanpeng’s re-creation of the scroll under the direction of the Qianlong emperor’s Tibetan advisor Rolpay Dorje preserves the two frames with Fude Longnü and Mahākāla but with some minor changes: Fude Longnü’s skin is lighter, Mahākāla’s skin is slightly darker, Mahākāla’s squat male attendants appear more leonine than human, and the colors of various garments are different. 18.  Like the Mahārāja figure in frame 41, the nāgī kneels in obeisance to Śākyamuni in frame 40. She holds up a pearl in offering. While the Mahārāja figure seems to fit in with the subsequent set of frames, 42–58, I am not sure how the nāgī relates to the sixteen arhats that extend in the other direction in frames 23–38, unless this sequence is also supposed to include the dragon kings of frames 13–18. 19.  Faure, “Space and Place in Chinese Religious Traditions,” 339. 20.  von Glahn, The Sinister Way, 228n14; Maoting kehua 5:10a–b. Von Glahn claims that the dragon maiden’s allegiance was initially with Nanzhao, but the text refers only to Fan, which, based on the place name, refers to Tibetan rather than Nanzhao territory. 21.  Jordaan, “Tārā and Nyai Lara Kidul,” 296–297. 22. Faure, The Power of Denial, 95. Keiranshūyōshū, T 2410p622b11–16. 23.  Ludvik, “From Sarasvatī to Benzaiten,” 290. 24.  Chapin, “A Long Roll of Buddhist Images (IV),” 126–127. Helen Chapin’s notes end after frame 118, so her interpretation of Fude Longnü is unknown.

200

N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 2

25.  Ji gu Dian shuo ji, 351. 26.  Iyanaga Nobumi, Daikokuten hensō, 367–368. 27.  Nanhai jiguinei fazhuan, T 2125p209c10. 28.  Ji gu Dian shuo ji, 351. 29.  The six-armed Mahākālas are a relief carving from Shizhong si Cave 16, a carving from Guiyuan si, and a relief carving from Santai shan. Their two additional attributes are a rosary and a sword. See Lee Yü-min, “Nanzhao Dali Daheitian tuxiang yanjiu,” 43, figs. 1, 2, 4. A statue of Mahākāla from the Dali period found in Chongsheng si only has four arms, but the four implements he holds match four of the six implements of the other Mahākāla images. Ibid., 44, fig. 5. 30. Ibid., 35. Lee Yü-min points out that the attributes held by the Dali Mahākāla more closely match those of Indian Mahākālas than Mahākāla images from Dunhuang. For example, an eleventh-century Mahākāla from Bihar holds in his four arms a sword, halberd, skull cup, and bone trident (khaṭvāṅga). In contrast, images of Mahākāla from Dunhuang depict him with six or eight arms, holding an elephant skin above his head with two hands, a horizontal spear across his body with two hands, and two vertical spears with his remaining set of hands. Li notes that the Dunhuang images correspond to descriptions of Mahākāla’s appearance in Chinese Buddhist texts. I address Mahākāla’s iconography in Bryson, “Mahākāla Worship in the Dali Kingdom (937–1253),” 26–27. 31. Abramson, Ethnic Identity in Tang China, 22, 93. 32. Ibid., 105. 33.  Hybridity is the norm for deities rather than the exception, but the Dali kingdom’s position in a cultural nexus makes the particulars of Fude Longnü’s hybridity significant. 34.  The surviving manuscripts of these texts are untitled, so I am using the titles that Hou Chong created based on their contents. 35.  The temple is located in Beitangtian, Fengyi Township, approximately 20 km southeast of the modern-day Dali Prefecture seat. It formerly belonged to the administrative unit Zhaozhou. 36.  Dong Xian purchased a Buddhist canon in Hangzhou in the late fourteenth century, but it was destroyed in the 1382 Ming conquest; he saved over two thousand fascicles by storing them in a cave, then embarked to Kunming to retrieve a new canon from Dizang si and Yuantong si. Zhaozhou Nanshan Da Fazang si bei, 32. 37.  Tang records show that a Dong Cheng served as prime minister under the Nanzhao king Shilong. Xin Tang shu 222b:6284. 38.  The date in the text is given as Ming Hongwu 35, which Hou shows is the same as Jianwen 4, or 1402. Hou Chong, “Dali guo xiejing yanjiu,” 47. Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi, 28, 30. I am grateful to Hou Chong for helping me decipher this manuscript. 39.  Yang Yanfu, “Fengyi Beitangtian gu jingjuan qingli zayi,” 57–58; Hou Chong, “Dali guo xiejing yanjiu,” 27; Hou Chong, “Dahei Tianshen yu Baijie Shengfei xin ziliao yanjiu,” 54, 57. 40.  Stevenson, “Text, Image, and Transformation in the History of the Shuilu fahui,” 64–65n50; Strong, The Legend of King Aśoka, 93–94.



N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 2 

201

41.  Foshuo jiuba yankou egui tuoluoni jing, T 1313p464c24–27. 42.  Stevenson, “Text, Image, and Transformation in the History of the Shuilu fahui,” 32. 43.  Orzech, “Esoteric Buddhism and the Shishi in China,” 56. 44.  For example, the buddhas are invited to the “esoteric assembly” (mimi hui); Vairocana is the “esoteric patriarch” (mizu); even half a syllable of the “mantra of the esoteric teachings” (mijiao zhenyan) is effective; the “great esoteric lineage” (da mizong) is a “separate transmission outside the teachings” ( jiaowai biechuan); etc. 45.  Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi, 364. 46.  There are a few exceptions to this, as we find two mantras written in Siddham script in the text. Hou Chong has reconstructed them as follows: “namo buddharigatāritathāgataya svāhā, namo buddhāya namo dharmāya namaḥ saṃghāya, namaḥ rava []yāya oṃ u ma 3 mau patayami” and “oṃ khakhakhāha 3 svāhā.” The first directly follows the phrase “mantra for opening the throats,” referring to the pin-thin throats of hungry ghosts, but it does not match such mantras in other texts. Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi, 368–369. 47.  Orzech provides outlines of the Tang text Methods for Distributing Food and Water to Hungry Ghosts (Shi zhu egui yinshi ji shui fa) and the Yuan Yujia jiyao yankou shishi yi in “Esoteric Buddhism and the Shishi in China,” 54–55 and 58–59, respectively. 48. The Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi refers to “offering a kernel that extends throughout the dharma realm to widely nourish the [beings of] water and land” and “the classes that move in water, land, and air, flying or floating.” Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi, 364, 367. The Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi refers to “spirits of water and land” as well as “spirits of mountains, rivers, water, and land.” Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi, 6, 21. 49.  See Yang E, Xuanbai zhaoqing shangtang bawei shengzhong, in Shishi tonglan, ZZ 961p116c5–17; and Xuanbai zhaoqing xiatang bawei shengfan, in Shishi tonglan, ZZ 961p117b19–23. 50.  For this text, the Shuilu faxiang zan xu, see Shishi tonglan, ZZ 961p115b1–4. 51.  Stevenson, “Text, Image, and Transformation in the History of the Shuilu fahui,” 32–33. 52.  For example, the Sichuanese laymen Yang E and Su Shi wrote extensively on shuilu ritual; parts of their works are contained in the Shishi tonglan. Ibid., 44. 53.  Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi, 360, 361, 371. See Jingde chuandeng lu, T 2076p247c15– 18; Liuzu dashi fabao tan jing, T 2008p349b25. 54.  Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi, 3. 55. Ibid., 20–21. 56.  Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi, 366. 57. Ibid., 361. The two provisional vehicles are those of śrāvaka and pratyekabuddha. 58.  Hebo and the gods of the Five Marchmounts and Four Rivers are tied to Chinese geography, while Deep Sands and Floating Hill first appear in Buddhist texts from the fourth century. For the latter, see Strickmann, Chinese Magical Medicine, 312–313n47. Elsewhere in the texts we find more references to Chinese deities, such as the Lord of Mount Tai, the Vermillion Bird and Dark Warrior, and the spirits of the earth and granary (sheji).

202

N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 2

59.  These Chinese deities appear in the Foshuo tiandi bayang shenzhou jing, T 2897p1423a1–3. This text is listed as a spurious scripture in the Zhenyuan xinding Shijiao mulu by Yuanzhao in the late eighth century, T 2157p1017a27–b1. There is also a Daoist text with similar name and content, the Taishang laojun shuo anzhai bayang jing, which appears to be based on the indigenous Buddhist version. See Mollier, Buddhism and Taoism Face to Face, 14. 60.  Chongjian Jinbang shan beiji, 114. Jinbang shan is located on the east side of Er Lake. 61.  For a basic version of this legend, see Murray, “Representations of Hāritī, the Mother of Demons, and the Theme of ‘Raising the Alms-Bowl’ in Chinese Painting,” 253; Guizimu jing, T 1262. 62.  Dapiluzhena chengfo jing shu, T 1796p634c19; Tuoluoni zaji, T 1336p622c18–20; Byakuhō kushō, 239a. 63.  Nanhai jigui neifa zhuan, T 2125p209b5–9. For the esoteric texts linking Hārītī and Mahākāla, see the Mouli mantuoluo zhoujing, T 1007p668a27–b2; Ruyilun tuoluoni jing, T 1080p195b14; and Bukong juansuo shenbian zhenyan jing, T 1092p267b28. For the Japanese ritual manuals, see Byakuhō shō, 240c; Byakuhō kushō, 211b. Iyanaga Nobumi, Daikokuten hensō, 105. 64. Jueyuan’s Dari jing yishi yanmi chao identifies Āṭavaka as a vidyā-rāja who manifests as Mahākāla in the wilds to subjugate demons. Dari jing yishi yanmi chao, ZZ 439p610a15. 65.  Foshuo Dajixiang tiannü shi’er minghao jing, T 1252p252b25. 66.  The title of the inscription is Shunji shengfei miao ji (Shunji Holy Consort Temple record). See Boltz, “In Homage to T’ien-fei,” 219n43. 67. See Luoshen fu by Cao Zhi. 68.  The “Eight Brilliant Queens” appear in a list after the “Eight Great Brilliant Kings.” Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi, 364. 69.  Stevenson, “Text, Image, and Transformation in the History of the Shuilu fahui,” 47. 70.  For a brief analysis of the contents of the Xianmi yuantong chengfo xinyao ji (T 1955), see Sharf, Coming to Terms with Chinese Buddhism, 273–275. 71.  This refers to the nāga girl who attains buddhahood in the Lotus Sūtra. See ­Miaofa lianhua jing, T 262p35c6–26. 72.  The “Fierce Sage,” mengsheng, refers to Longmeng, another name for the Madh­ yamaka (and esoteric) patriarch Nāgārjuna, who is also called Longshu (Dragon Tree). The “Dragon Flower,” Longhua, refers to the kind of tree under which the future buddha Maitreya will preach the dharma. Hou Chong’s edited version of the Dahei tianshen daochang yi in Zangwai fojiao wenxian, vol. 6, gives zheng before “Dragon Flower,” which would make the line read “rectifies the Dragon Flower.” However, the copy of the manuscript in Dali congshu. Dazangjing pian, vol. 1, repeats zhu, “to assist,” in this phrase. It is possible that this was corrected by a note that does not appear on the manuscript copy, as the copy cuts off the text in several places and does not reproduce the red marks on the original manuscript.



N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 2 

203

However, I will follow the manuscript version because Hou does not give a reason for using zheng instead. 73.  The term “Mahāśriye” is written in Siddham script on the original text; it is equivalent to the Chinese term dajixiang that I translate as “Greatly Auspicious,” which here refers to the goddess Śrī. Hou gives the transliteration in Dahei tianshen daochang yi, 378. For the Siddham script, see Dali congshu. Dazangjing pian 1:430. 74.  The original text reads “the deluded heart [or mind] illuminates the awakened heart,” mixin ming juexin, but Hou Chong sees ming, “illuminates,” as superfluous and would render this line as “the principle of the deluded heart and the awakened heart,” mixin juexin zhi li. Since Hou has not given a compelling reason for this omission, I will follow the original. Dahei tianshen daochang yi, 378n2. 75.  The text here reads “the physical shines on the crown of emptiness,” rou guang kongding. Rather than seeing the ming in the previous sentence as superfluous, I suspect that the character ding that should appear after “physical” was omitted. This would fit the parallel structure and sense of the passage better, as the xin (heart) in the previous phrase was repeated three times, and both phrases refer to the principle of the mundane leading to the ultimate. This second phrase has the structure “open the . . . gate” (kai . . . men), but here men (gate) refers to a principle or viewpoint. 76.  Changheng is another name for the Chinese goddess of the moon, more commonly known as Chang’e and also as Heng’e. 77.  Hou Chong adds the character hua, flower, to the term “Great Oceanic Storehouse,” aohai zang, making it “Great Oceanic Flower Storehouse,” aohai huazang. The term “flower storehouse” refers to the Huayan image of the world existing in a lotus flower that grows out of a fragrant sea, so this addition would make sense, but again Hou gives no rationale for adding the character other than parallelism. Dahei tianshen daochang yi, 378n3. The “Three Assemblies” refers to the gatherings under the Dragon Flower Tree, and “the worthy” is presumably Maitreya. 78.  The character between zi (here “adopt”) and lei (category) is illegible in the original text, but the phrase zi suilei, “[preaching] according to the category [of the audience]” appears in the text Miji lishi daquan shenwang jing jiesong, T 1688p778a14. My translation here is tentative. The “inner courtyard” is one of two courtyards in Maitreya’s Tuṣita Heaven. 79.  The term for “Auspicious” could also be read as the goddess Śrī. 80.  “State of nonaction” refers to the condition in which one no longer engages in karmic causality; it is another term for nirvāṇa. 81.  I am unsure of the translation “improved her spiritual capacity” for zhu shenji. 82.  Hou Chong has added “Baijie” (White Sister) and “zhenyan” (mantra) to the text to make it conform to the pattern in the section of the seven forms of Mahākāla. Dahei tianshen daochang yi, 378nn4–5. 83.  I have tentatively translated the last term as “maṇi jewel” based on the context, though only the character mo appears. Dahei tianshen daochang yi, 379. 84.  Hou Chong, “Dali guo xiejing yanjiu,” 52; “Cong Fude Longnü dao Baijie Amei,” 364.

204

N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 2

85.  The inscription continues with a passage about Baijie Shengfei that closely resembles the section about her in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi. Xiu Baijie Shengfei Longwang hemiao beiji, 2–4. 86.  Chu sanzang jiji, T 2145p22c1. 87. Forte, Political Propaganda and Ideology in China at the End of the Seventh Century, plate II, lines 42–43. 88. Ning, Art, Religion, and Politics in Medieval China, 113. 89. Wang, Shaping the Lotus Sutra, 141. 90.  Gaofeng Longquan yuan yinshi jixian yulu, ZZ 1277p46b16. 91.  Among the Western Xia texts written in Sinitic script, depictions of Mahākāla in sexual union with female figures appear in the Dahei genben ming zhou (Basic lifespan spell of Great Black; TK262); Ciwu Dahei yaomen (Essential teachings of the kind crow Great Black; A7); and the Dahei qiuxiu bing zuofa (Seeking the practice and performing the method of Great Black; B59). For the Nepalese/Tibetan Mahākālatantra, see Stablein, “The Mahākālatantra.” 92.  The text is Yang Sen’s 1326 Qixian shan Bao’en fancha ji, which refers to a temple located in Yongchang. The seven forms of Mahākāla are listed among the paintings of the temple. Qixian shan Bao’en fancha ji, 266. 93.  Dahei tianshen daochang yi, 373. 94.  Dapiluzhena chengfo jing shu, T 1796p687b28–c4. 95.  Dahei tianshen daochang yi, 377. 96.  Iyanaga Nobumi, Daikokuten hensō, 367–368. 97.  Baozang tiannü tuoluoni fa, T 1282. 98.  Renwang huguo bore boluomiduo jing, T 246p840b5–7. Kumārajīva’s translation identifies the deity in question as the “god of the family,” jia shen. Renwang bore boluomi jing, T 245p830a26. Iyanaga posits that Amoghavajra identified the deity as Mahākāla because the complete story (contained in the Xianyu jing) had connections to the legend of Hārītī (eating human flesh, stealing children) and ḍākinīs. Iyanaga Nobumi, Daikokuten hensō, 147. 99.  Renwang jing shu, T 1709p490a27–b3. For the Renwang jing and Liangbi’s commentary, see DZJP 1:85–233. 100.  In the Dahei tianshen daochang yi, Kāla of Joy holds a battle-axe and waisted drum in his upper pair of hands, a spear and lasso in the middle pair, and a sword and skull bowl in the lower pair. In the Fanxiang juan he holds a skull bowl and trident in his upper pair of hands, an axe and drums on a stick in the middle pair, and a rosary and baton in the lower pair. 101.  Zhufo pusa jingang deng qiqing yigui, 177–193. 102.  The description of the first form of Mahākāla is illegible, so there is a possibility that it originally matched the Fanxiang juan image. It is also possible that missing frames account for the absence of the other forms in the Fanxiang juan. 103.  Iyanaga Nobumi, Daikokuten hensō, 348–349. 104. Ebrey, The Inner Quarters, 33.



N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 3 

N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 3

205

1.  Huayang guo zhi jiaobu tuzhu, 268–269. 2.  Donald Sutton and Xie Xiaohui each discuss different versions of the legend of the White Emperors in Hunan that share many themes with Baijie Amei’s story. See Sutton, “Myth Making on an Ethnic Frontier”; and Xie, “From Woman’s Fertility to Masculine Authority.” 3.  Rossabi, “The Reign of Khubilai Khan,” 417–418. James Anderson explains the Mongols’ relatively easy victory over Dali as resulting from the loose federation of clans that supported Dali rule, in contrast to the stronger alliances that protected the Ðại Việt polity from Mongol conquest. Anderson, “Man and Mongols,” 130–131. 4. Herman, Amid the Clouds and Mist, 47–48. 5. Ibid., 60–61. 6.  Yuan shi 4:59. 7.  For example, the Duan rulers were also granted titles such as Pacification Commissioner (xuanfu shi or xuanwei shi du yuanshuai) and Assistant Administrator of the Branch Secretariat (xing zhongshu sheng canzhi zhengshi) after defeating rebellions or other armed uprisings. 8.  Yuan shi 166:3910. 9. Yang, Between Wind and Clouds, 49. 10.  Dali lu xingju xuexiao ji, 12; Herman, Amid the Clouds and Mist, 54. 11.  Dali lu xingju xuexiao ji, 12. Unfortunately the term is preceded by several illegible characters that might have modified it significantly. The term “Bai people” is used in the Yunnan zhilue, which is said to date from the early fourteenth century, but the text only survives in citations from the Ming Jingtai-era (1450–1456) gazetteer of Yunnan. Yunnan zhilue, 121. 12.  Ji gu Dian shuo ji, 656. 13.  According to this story, Aśoka’s sons each want his “divine steed,” an eight-foottall thoroughbred with a red mane and tail and a golden coat. To resolve their quarrel, Aśoka releases the horse and tells his sons that whoever catches it first may keep it. They chase the horse to the east, and all end up settling in the Dian area (modern-day Kunming). Aśoka worries over their failure to return and dispatches their maternal uncle to bring them back, but he is stopped by the Ailao ruler. This sets the stage for the Shayi legend. Ibid., 655. 14. Ibid. 15. Ibid., 662; Dali xingji, 136; Dali lu xingju xuexiao ji, 12; Chongxiu Dashengsi bei­ ming bing xu, 21. 16.  Ji gu Dian shuo ji, 662. 17.  Ming shilu 46:923–924. 18. [Zhengde] Yunnan zhi, 432–433. 19.  Nanzhao yuanliu jiyao, 150. 20.  Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi, 96–102; Zhao Yuzhong, “Wenben, qingjing yu zuqun rentong,” 137.

206

N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 3

21.  Hou makes the case that Bai ethnic consciousness—and the legends supporting it—developed as a response to the Ming conquest. Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi, 96–102. 22. Ibid., 68–81. 23.  Hou Chong cites several works from the Ming and Qing that refer to the Bai gu tongji’s use of “written Bai” (Bai wen or Bo wen); ibid., 119, 130. For the original references, see Dian zaiji, 765; Dian lue, 662; Baiguo yinyou, 168; [Wanli] Yunnan tongzhi, 580. Some scholars of Dali claim that the use of Sinitic characters (or parts of characters) to represent the local vernacular appears in Buddhist texts going back to the Nanzhao kingdom. See for example Zhang Xilu, Dali Baizu fojiao mizong, 368–369; Li Donghong, Baizu fojiao mizong, 90–104. However, Hou Chong has convincingly refuted this by showing that the partial characters taken as “written Bai” are in fact just abbreviated versions of standard Sinitic characters. See Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi, 126–131. 24.  Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi, 443–446. 25.  As the Bai gu tongji is no longer extant, it is impossible to know whether its expansion of the Bai kingdom was implicit or explicit. Hou Chong cites various Ming and Qing texts to support his argument that the Bai kingdom of the Bai gu tongji includes the Meng and Duan rulers as well as the Zhang. Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi, 142. However, none of the texts quote directly from the Bai gu tongji in identifying the Meng and Duan as Bai, and other texts from the same period that also drew from the Bai gu tongji do not make claims about the Nanzhao and Dali rulers’ Bai identity. 26.  The “Three Cang” can be understood as the three spirits of Three Spirits Temple (Sanling miao), which I discuss in detail below. 27.  Shi Zhongjian, “Dian xi kaogu baogao,” 111–112. 28.  Yuanzu chongguang dingzuo huangdi, Shengde xingbang huangdi, and Zhenzi fujing lingdi. 29.  I have not found an explanation of the wood cultivation or magnolia symbolism. 30.  Sanling miao ji, 49. 31.  Gu shanshi Yang Zong muzhi, 69. 32.  Chushi Yang gong tongshi Li shi shouzang, 71. 33.  See note 25 above. 34.  A. Smith, The Ethnic Origins of Nations, 58–61. 35.  Fang Guoyu attributes the confusion surrounding Bo to the Wanli-era Yunnan tongzhi, which refers to people of southern Yunnan as Boyi instead of Baiyi (the two terms would have had identical pronunciation). [Wanli] Yunnan tongzhi, 571; Fang Guoyu, “Ming xiu jiuzhong Yunnan shengzhi gaishuo,” 72. 36.  Dian zhi, 491. The Dian zhi was edited by Liu Wenzheng, who hailed from Kunming but whose ancestors migrated to Yunnan from Shanxi in the early Ming. He based the Dian zhi on the Wanli-era Yunnan tongzhi and the Dian zhi cao (Dian gazetteer draft) of Bao Jianjie. Fang Guoyu, “Ming xiu jiuzhong Yunnan shengzhi gaishuo,” 74. During the Ming “Bo” could still refer to Dali inhabitants: the sixteenth-century Dian zaiji (Records of Dian) notes that the Bai gu tongji was written in “Bo script” (Bowen). Dian zaiji, 765. 37.  Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi, 194–197.



N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 3 

207

38.  Zhao bases this argument on the fact that of fifteen epitaphs by Yang Sen, only four refer to Jiulong ancestry. For some reason, he does not use any inscriptions recorded in Dali congshu. Jinshi pian. See Zhao Yuzhong, “Wenben, qingjing yu zuqun rentong,” 133–137. He mistakenly gives the date 1440 for the first year of the Jingtai reign era, which should be 1450. 39.  Of the twenty inscriptions I have found with references to Jiulong ancestry, eight were written between 1449 and 1462 by Yang Sen; one in 1471 by Yang Qi; one in 1472 by Yang Yong; one in 1477 by Yang Xian; three from 1483–1490 by Yang Ben; one in 1483 by Yang Xuan; one in 1483 by Yang Shu; two from 1484–1492 by Yang Zheng; one from 1517 by Yang Wen; and one from 1566 by Li Yuanyang. See JSP 10:47–50, 52, 56–57, 60–61, 63–65, 67–68; and Baizu shehui lishi diaocha 4:183–184, 192, 199, 204–206, 226, 228, 239 (some inscriptions appear in both collections). 40. Brubaker, Ethnicity without Groups, 10–17. 41.  Lian Ruizhi has observed that the Zhao family’s lineage claims changed in the wake of the Ming conquest from emphasizing descent from Jiulong to emphasizing Nanjing ancestry. Her findings support a focus on clan representation in Ming sources rather than assuming the salience of ethnic discourse. Lian Ruizhi, “Surviving Conquest in Dali,” 103–105. 42. Diény, Le symbolisme du dragon dans la Chine antique, 174–175. 43.  Xin shu, 124. 44.  Xunzi 7:304. 45.  Liang Yongjia reads these kinds of legends as conforming to Marshall Sahlins’s and Georges Dumezil’s theories of kings as strangers or outsiders whose power renews the otherwise stagnant lineage of the in-group. See Liang Yongjia, “Stranger-Kinship and Cosmocracy” and “Wangquan shenhua yu shengyu yishi,” 409–410. Ho Ts’ui-p’ing also takes a structuralist approach in distinguishing between mother figures whose conception is not emphasized, which she sees as supporting the established state, and mother figures whose conception is emphasized, which she sees as foregrounding the power of the unknown. Ho Ts’ui-p’ing, “Gendering Ritual Community across the Chinese Southwest Borderland,” 215. When considering the legend of Baijie Amei in context, however, the lines separating insiders and outsiders, or state power from the unknown, are unstable, which limits these structuralist theories’ analytical power. 46.  Shiji 8:341. 47. Ibid. 1:31. 48.  Liji zhushu, 113b. 49. Eberhard, The Local Cultures of South and East China, 231–233. 50.  Yang and An, Handbook of Chinese Mythology, 64. 51.  The story about Jiangyuan stepping in a giant’s footprint and giving birth to Houji, also mentioned above, appears in the Lienü zhuan 1:3; the legend of Jiandi swallowing an egg and giving birth to Qi appears in ibid. 1:4. 52.  For an account of this legend and similar legends in the cycle, see Sutton, “Myth Making on an Ethnic Frontier,” 471–472; and Xie Xiaohui, “From Woman’s Fertility to Masculine Authority,” 126–127, and “Diguo zhi zai Miao jiang,” 68–69.

208

N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 3

53.  Ji gu Dian shuo ji, 655. 54.  Xie Xiaohui theorizes that stories like that of the White Emperor Heavenly Kings in West Hunan reflect a shift from lineages in which mothers play important roles to Han-style lineages that feature “unilineal male descent.” Xie, “From Women’s Fertility to Masculine Authority,” 111. However, Han (or “Chinese”) lineage representations are far from monolithic, and many do emphasize maternal roles. In addition, there is no evidence to support the theory that legends such as the White Emperor Heavenly Kings or Baijie reflect changes in social structure. 55.  Lian has written on additional legends of female ancestors and goddesses in Dali but occasionally reads these legends anachronistically by treating Ming-Qing sources as reliable records from the Nanzhao and Dali kingdoms (as with legends about the wives of Nanzhao rulers Fengluo and Geluofeng). However, her point about how female figures mediate between divine and royal power remains strong. See Lian Ruizhi, “Nüxing zuxian huo nüshen,” 31–33, 38; “Wangquan, xipu, yu hunyin,” 405–406; and Yincang de zuxian, 83–85. 56.  Xiu Baijie Shengfei Longwang hemiao beiji, 2–4. 57.  Jianchuan zhigao, 683. The Xiu Baijie Shengfei Longwang hemiao beiji and this inscription give different accounts of the temple’s construction: the former states that it was built by the Zhaoxin commandant Duke Yang in Zhengtong 14 (1449), while the latter claims that it was built by the subprefectural magistrate Gan Feng in Zhengtong 4 (1439). Because of the former’s earlier date, I am more inclined to believe its account. 58. Ibid., 684. 59.  Beisheng is modern-day Yongsheng County, which is located approximately 100 km east of Jianchuan and 200 km northeast of Dali. 60.  This text only exists in manuscript form. I am grateful to Hou Chong for giving me a copy he made from the original manuscript. 61.  Zheng Tianting, “Dali fanggu riji,” 30; Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi, 234. 62.  Erhe Lingdi refers to the legendary figure Duan Chicheng, who is worshipped throughout Dali for sacrificing himself to kill a vicious serpent. 63.  Zheng Tianting, “Dali fanggu riji,” 30. 64.  von Glahn, “The Sinister Way,” 160. 65.  Jing, “Yongle Palace,” 259. 66.  Hou Chong argues convincingly that the author’s name is Yang Ding and not Yang Nai, as it appears in several sources. Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi, 325–326. 67. [Wanli] Yunnan tongzhi, 461. 68. Ibid., 435. 69.  Nanzhao yuanliu jiyao, 745. 70. Ibid. 71. Ibid., 748. 72. Ibid., 752. 73. Ibid. 74.  Luce, “The Career of Htilaing Min (Kyanzittha),” 56–57. 75.  The first version was written by the Kunming literatus Ni Lu, the second by Yang



N O T E S T O C HA P T E R S 3 AN D 4 

209

Shen, and the third by the Malong native Ruan Yuansheng. Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi, 331–346. 76.  See [Wanli] Yunnan tongzhi, 576; and Nanzhao yeshi dianzhu, 43–44. The only surviving copy of the Ni Lu version is a Guangxu-era (1875–1908) manuscript by Shi Deyun that I have not seen; Hou Chong reports that it contains no reference to Duan Siping’s family background. Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi, 344. 77.  The preface to the Dian zaiji, written by Jiang Long, a Jiangsu native stationed in Yunnan, recounts Yang Shen’s search for the Bai gu tongji among the people. He writes that Yang Shen edited the crudely written original into the properly literary Dian zaiji. Dian zaiji, 756. This indicates that Yang Shen’s Dian zaiji is not a strict translation of the Bai gu tongji but a revised version that reflects Yang Shen’s literary and historical sensibilities. See also Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi, 347–353. 78.  Dian zaiji, 760. 79. See Dian lüe, 774; Dian kao, 27; and Erhai congtan, 65. The Dian lüe was written by Xie Zhaozhi, a Fujian native who served as an official in Yunnan during the Wanli era; Dian kao was written by Yongchang judge and Zhejiang native Feng Su (1628–1692); and Erhai congtan was written by the Guangxi monk Tongkui. 80.  The extant version of the Baiguo yinyou is a printed copy from 1706. Hou Chong believes it to be a Qing creation because no Ming texts cite it. Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi, 426–427. As mentioned in Chapter 1, piaoxinju meant “Pyu ruler” in Burmese and was adopted by the Nanzhao rulers after their conquest of Pyu. 81.  Baiguo yinyou, 167–168. The last line comes from the Mengzi. See Mengzi zhushu, 169b. 82.  Baiguo yinyou, 168. Hou Chong notes that while the eighteen manifestations of Guanyin in the Baiguo yinyou were based on the Bai gu tongji, other Ming and Qing records show that the Bai gu tongji contained more diverse content than the Baiguo yinyou. Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi, 425. N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 4

1.  The Dengchuan locals Gao Shanggui and Hou Yunqin were editors of the Daoguang-era (1821–1850) and Xianfeng-era (1851–1861) gazetteers of Dengchuan subprefecture, respectively. 2.  Struve, “The Southern Ming, 1644–1662,” 679–710. 3.  Spence, “The K’ang-hsi Reign,” 137–143. 4.  Qing shilu 434:560b. 5. Atwill, The Chinese Sultanate, 143. 6.  Atwill’s translation. Ibid., 146. 7. Berger, Empire of Emptiness, 152–158. 8. Yang, Between Wind and Clouds, 134. 9. Atwill, The Chinese Sultanate, 27. 10. Rowe, Saving the World, 423. 11. [Guangxu] Langqiong xian zhilüe, 158. 12. [Qianlong] Yunnan tongzhi, 28.

210

N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 4

13. [Kangxi] Heqing fuzhi, 218. 14. [Xianfeng] Dengchuan zhouzhi, 503. 15.  Elvin, “Female Virtue and the State in China,” 118. 16.  Birge, “Levirate Marriage and the Revival of Widow Chastity in Yuan China,” 108. 17. Lu, True to Her Word, 30; Birge, “Levirate Marriage and the Revival of Widow Chastity in Yuan China,” 125. 18. Bossler, Courtesans, Concubines, and the Cult of Female Fidelity, 415. 19.  Ming shi 301:7689. Lu, True to Her Word, 32. 20.  I use sui to indicate the Chinese age, which is roughly one year older than the Western age because it counts people as one year old at birth. 21.  Carlitz, “The Daughter, the Singing-Girl, and the Seduction of Suicide,” 25–26. 22.  Shiji 82:2457. 23. Lu, True to Her Word, 41. 24.  Elvin, “Female Virtue and the State in China,” 124. 25. T’ien, Male Anxiety and Female Chastity, 1–4. 26.  Carlitz, “Shrines, Governing-Class Identity, and the Cult of Widow Fidelity in Mid-Ming Jiangnan,” 624. 27. Ibid., 633. 28.  Elliott, “Manchu Widows and Ethnicity in Qing China,” 39. 29.  Theiss, “Managing Martyrdom,” 48. Of course, different emperors took different positions on the issue of widow suicide, and laws aimed at limiting the practice were enforced with varying degrees of effort and success. 30.  Notar, “Wild Histories,” 59. 31.  Theiss, “Managing Martyrdom,” 63–64. The record of Ortai’s request appears in the Da Qing huidian shili, 505b. 32.  Rowe, “Women and the Family in Mid-Qing Social Thought,” 18. 33. [Kangxi] Dali fuzhi, 62. 34.  Ji gu Dian shuo ji, 355–356. 35.  Li attained the jinshi degree in 1526. He served at the Ming court as a Hanlin bachelor (hanlin shujishi) and censor (yushi), but in each case his dissenting views led to demotions and transfers to Jiangsu and Hubei. Li spent time in Dali after his first demotion and again at the end of his life. [Kangxi] Dali fuzhi, 151. 36. [Wanli] Yunnan tongzhi, 251. The version in the Jiajing-era Dali fuzhi is identical except for the first line, which reads “The City of Virtue’s Source in Dengchuan is located to the east of the subprefecture seat.” See [Jiajing] Dali fuzhi, 91. Hou Chong argues that the detailed version of the Cishan legend originated in the Bai gu tongji, but this view is based on one Qing text. Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi, 225. 37.  Nanzhao yeshi [Yang Shen] 1:11a–12a. This version of the Nanzhao yeshi was written by Yang Shen and edited by Hu Wei. Ningbei, “Pacifying the North,” was a place name during the Nanzhao kingdom. It was located near Dengchuan to the northwest of the Dali plain. See Xin Tang shu 222a:6276. 38. [Wanli] Yunnan tongzhi, 462. The A’nan legend probably came from the Bai gu



N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 4 

211

tongji and was reproduced in the Nanzhao tongji (the latter being based largely on the former). Qing sources attribute it to the Bai gu tongji under one of its alternate titles, Jun zhi (Gazetteer of the Commandery) or Dali jun zhi (Gazetteer of Dali Commandery). See Hu Wei’s annotation of the Nanzhao yeshi [Yang Shen] 1:11a–12a; and Gao Shanggui’s Xinghuijie kao in [Xianfeng] Dengchuan zhouzhi, 645. Hou Chong shows that in Dali the otherwise generic title Jun zhi refers to the Bai gu tongji in Hou Chong, Baizu xinshi, 35–39. 39.  Liji, 35. 40.  Taiping guangji 483:3981. 41.  Yunnan zhilue, 128. 42.  For the Wang Yi explanation, see Wanli yehuo bian, 622. Wang Yi is also known as Wang Zhongwen. For the Zhuge Liang explanation, see Gao Shanggui, Xinghuijie kao, in [Xianfeng] Dengchuan zhouzhi, 645; and the account of Nanzhao history in the [Kangxi] Menghua fuzhi, 34. 43. [Kangxi] Heqing fuzhi, 303. 44. Idema, Meng Jiangnü Brings Down the Great Wall, 7–16. I have summarized the story to include its relevant details. 45. [Xianfeng] Dengchuan zhouzhi, 611, 658; Dianzhong suoji, 282. 46. [Kangxi] Dali fuzhi, 160. 47.  Dian kao, 18. Feng Su repeats this comparison in the Cishan fei miao ji, 143. 48. [Kangxi] Heqing fuzhi, 303. 49.  Shijing, 7. 50. [Kangxi] Dali fuzhi, 242. The temple honoring Cishan/Baijie at the City of ­Virtue’s Source is on a hill, hence the verb deng, “to climb.” 51. [Kangxi] Langqiong xianzhi, 375; [Kangxi] Xuxiu Langqiong xianzhi, 433. 52. [Daoguang] Langqiong xianzhi, 793. 53. Ibid., 821. 54.  Nanzhao shijia, 158–160. 55.  Carlitz, “Shrines, Governing-Class Identity, and the Cult of Widow Fidelity in Mid-Ming Jiangnan,” 633. 56. [Wanli] Yunnan tongzhi, 485. 57. [Kangxi] Dali fuzhi, 113. 58.  Qiangna (also called Qiangnu) was the daughter of the Dali governor Duan Gong, who was killed by the Prince of Liang. She embroidered a banner for seven years while waiting for her younger brother Duan Bao to grow up, then used it to lead an army to avenge her father’s death. Qiangna is usually grouped with A’nan and Cishan as the three exemplary women from pre-Ming Dali, but as her story is one of filial piety rather than chastity, she receives less attention in the late imperial period. [Kangxi] Dali fuzhi, 160–161. 59. Ibid., 160. 60.  Miao was used as a generic term for “barbarian” in the Qing. See S. Cheung, “Miao Identities, Indigenism and the Politics of Appropriation in Southwest China during the Republican Period,” 88.

212

N O T E S T O C HA P T E R S 4 A N D 5

61.  Cishan fei miao ji, 143. 62. [Xianfeng] Dengchuan zhouzhi,, 611. 63. [Kangxi] Jianchuan zhouzhi, 628; [Kangxi] Heqing fuzhi, 278. These two accounts are identical. Zhang Daoyu appears separately in the [Qianlong] Yunnan tongzhi as a Daoist master renowned for his rainmaking prowess who learns his art from an “unusual person” (yiren). [Qianlong] Yunnan tongzhi, 26. 64. Snyder-Reinke, Dry Spells. 65.  According to the Daoguang-era Langqiong xianzhi, the Cishan temple (here called Baijie ci, “Shrine of Cypress Chastity”) in Langqiong was first built in 1576, repaired by the local juren Dai Sheng in 1762, and repaired again by the local juren Xiao Wenwei, zhusheng Yang Huancai, and others in 1840. [Daoguang] Langqiong xianzhi, 793. Similarly, the Daoguang Dengchuan zhouzhi attributes the repair of the “Temple of Virtue’s Source” (Deyuan si) to the jiansheng degree-holder and Yinqiao village native Gao Shanglin. [Daoguang] Dengchuan zhouzhi, 731. This gazetteer was edited by the local scholar Gao Shanggui, who was probably related to Gao Shanglin. 66. [Kangxi] Dali fuzhi, 242. 67. Xu, Xinghui jie diaogu, in [Daoguang] Zhaozhou zhi, 467. 68. Chen, Xinghui jie diao Anan ji Cishan furen, in [Daoguang] Zhaozhou zhi, 451. 69. Wang, Shu gushi shi’er shou, in [Daoguang] Yunnan tongzhi gao 198:19. 70. Shi, Xinghui jie, in [Daoguang] Zhaozhou zhi, 448. 71.  This poem is reproduced in several Qing gazetteers. The Yongzheng-era Yunlong zhouzhi classifies it as a Ming work, but in the Daoguang-era Zhaozhou zhi it appears in the section of Qing poems. [Yongzheng] Yunlong zhouzhi, 300–301; [Daoguang] Zhaozhou zhi, 450. 72. [Daoguang] Zhaozhou zhi, 451. 73. Ibid. 74.  Liji, 25. 75.  Man shu, 73. 76. Ibid., 70. 77.  Yunnan zhilüe, 128. 78.  Erhai congtan, 363. 79.  For the Gandhāra description, see Dianzhong suoji, 292; the identification of Jizu shan and Mt. Kukkuṭapāda appears already in the Ming Dian lüe, 672. 80. Teng, Taiwan’s Imagined Geography, 177–185. N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 5

1.  Barlow, “Theorizing Woman,” 263–266. 2. Harrell, Ways of Being Ethnic in Southwest China; Litzinger, Other Chinas. 3. Schein, Minority Rules, 284–285. 4.  Leibold, “Competing Narratives of Racial Unity in Republican China,” 190–192. 5.  Barlow, “Theorizing Woman,” 262–263. 6. Ko, Cinderella’s Sisters, 67–68. 7. Davies, Yün-nan, 343–344.



N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 5 

213

8. Fitzgerald, The Tower of Five Glories, 20. 9. Ibid., 12. 10.  In his 1947 master’s thesis, Tung-Ch’un Ts’ai uses field research conducted in Xizhou to determine whether Chinese ancestor worship was incompatible with the Christian faith. Like Hsu, he acknowledges the “tribal” history of the Dali region but claims that by the Republican era its inhabitants were wholly Chinese. Ts’ai, “Tali Funeral Rites,” 9–11. 11. Hsu, Under the Ancestors’ Shadow, 19. 12.  Dali xianzhi gao, 531, 537. This same passage expresses anxiety about whether the “American rain and European winds coming east” will do to China what the Han have done to non-Han people in places like Dali. It ends with the question, “Do our emperor’s descendants also have racial ideology?” 13.  Fan Yitian, Yunnan gudai minzu zhi shi de fenxi, 1. 14.  This theory is based in part on the statement in the Nanzhao yeshi that the Duan clan came from Wuwei in Gansu, as the Di-Qiang people hailed from this region. 15.  Fan identified the Minjia (which he called Mingjia, “brilliant families”) as the descendants of the Nanzhao rulers whose ancestry also stemmed from the Bai Di (Fan Yitian, Yunnan gudai minzu zhi shi de fenxi, 6). He attributed the use of the character ming, “brilliant,” in this ethnonym to the brightness of the eyes of the Kunyu fish that served as a totem for Di clans. Needless to say, this struck his contemporaries as rather far-fetched. See Xu Jiarui, Dali gudai wenhuashi, 162. In addition, I have seen no examples of the ethnonym of Dali inhabitants being written as “Mingjia” rather than “Minjia.” 16.  Xu Jiarui, Dali gudai wenhuashi, 288–289. 17. Ibid., 287. 18.  Mullaney, “Ethnic Classification Writ Large,” 212, 217. 19.  Fang Guoyu, “Guanyu Baizu de mingcheng wenti,” 14, 16. 20.  Duara, “Knowledge and Power in the Discourse of Modernity,” 76. 21. Ibid., 75–76. 22.  Goossaert and Palmer, The Religious Question in Modern China, 58. 23. Fitzgerald, The Tower of Five Glories, 86. 24. Hsu, Under the Ancestors’ Shadow, 22; C. Liu, “A Study of the Religions of Hsichow (III),” 388. 25.  Xu Jiarui, Dali gudai wenhuashi, 186–187. 26. Ibid., 176. Xu conflates the name of the widow martyr A’nan with that of the Buddhist goddess Hārītī, often called Alidimu in Dali, to create the name A’nan Dimu. Both A’nan and Hārītī are connected to figures named Baijie, which explains this conflation. 27.  Xia Xiaohong explains how male intellectuals of the late Qing used female martyrs of the Ming-Qing transition to shame men into behaving more courageously, thereby strengthening modern China. Xia Xiaohong, Wan Qing nüxing yu jindai Zhongguo, 123– 124. Joan Judge uses a more nuanced typology than modernist or traditionalist to show how heroic chastity martyrs appealed to more people than either chaste women or female heroes, which were more polarizing. See Judge, The Precious Raft of History, 178–185.

214

N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 5

28.  Dali xianzhi gao, 626. 29. Ibid., 629. 30. Ibid., 579. 31.  Goossaert and Palmer, The Religious Question in Modern China, 153. 32.  Li Yifu, “Baizu de benzhu jiqi shenhua chuanshuo,” 67. 33. Ibid., 68. 34.  For example, in Xizhou, Baijie is listed as one of the “Nine Altar Gods” (Jiu tanshen) under the title “Dengdan Holy Consort White Sister, Divine Martial Mother Hārītī” (Dengdan Baijie Shengfei Shenwu Alidi Mu). Duan Siping was the Divine Martial Emperor, so this title might encompass all three of Baijie’s identities. Ibid., 69. 35. Notar, Displacing Desire, 51. 36. Siu, Agents and Victims in South China, 11. 37.  Yang Zhengye, “Baizu benzhu xinyang gaimao,” 45. 38.  Examples in book titles include Yang Zhengye’s 1994 Baizu benzhu wenhua (Bai village god culture), Dong Jianzhong’s 2007 Baizu benzhu chongbai (Bai village god worship), and Zhao Lu’s 1994 “Baizu ‘benzhu’ xinyang de wenhua neihan” (The cultural content of Bai “village god” beliefs). 39.  Tian Huaiqing, “Jianchuan Shizhong shan diqihao ku wangzhe xiang shishi,” 388; Li Gong, Nanzhao shigao, 176–177; Yang Zhengye, Baizu benzhu wenhua, 40–45. 40.  Chao, “Hegemony, Agency, and Re-presenting the Past,” 218. 41.  Yang Zhengye, Baizu benzhu wenhua, 47. 42.  Yang Zhengye, “Shishu Baizu benzhu shen de sanzhong fazhan leixing,” 559. 43.  Yang Zhengye, Baizu benzhu wenhua, 155; Li Zanxu, “Baizu ‘benzhu’ wenhua jianlun,” 412; Yang Xiandian, “Dali Baizu benzhu chongbai yanjiu,” 418. 44.  Lian Ruizhi, Yincang de zuxian, 84–97. 45.  Li Li, “Renxing de liliang, shengnü de meili,” 34. 46.  Wang Xiaoliang, “Diwu jie Zhongguo jingju yishujie huojiang mingdan.” 47.  Zuo Zhixin, “Dui jingju Baijie shengfei de yidian yijian.” 48. Feiyuxi2008, “Baijie Shengfei: Baizu nüxing yongheng de jiao’ao.” 49. Chau, Miraculous Response, 213–219. 50. Jinsha, Ningbei fei, 38, 66. 51. Gladney, Dislocating China, 58. 52.  Harrell, “Introduction,” 11. 53.  Notar, “Wild Histories,” 138, 142. 54. Schein, Minority Rules, 285. 55.  For example, one of the entries for the Baijie Furen legend in the 1986 Baizu shenhua chuanshuo jicheng (Collected myths and legends of the Bai nationality) notes that it circulates mainly in Dali Municipality and Eryuan County but does not give a specific village. See Baizu shenhua chuanshuo jicheng, 202–207. 56.  Anderson, “Gender and Ritual in South-East China”; Cheung, Women’s Ritual in China. 57.  According to the azhali who owned this text, he performed different eulogies on different occasions, such as the deity’s birthday or the festival of the Eighteen Altar



N O T E S T O C HA P T E R 5 AN D C O N C LU S I O N 

215

Gods. The section of the Eighteen Altar Gods was near the end of the text and followed the eulogies for gods of Buddhism, Daoism, and Chinese history. This text is discussed briefly in Hou Chong, Yunnan Azhalijiao jingdian yanjiu, 190–193, but he does not make reference to the Eighteen Altar Gods. 58.  Fomen sanfusheng gao. Several other scholars have published this eulogy and that of the “Nation-Protecting Holy Mother,” but I will use primarily the versions I collected in Dragon Town in February 2008. 59.  Dasheng Xitian Shengfei Baijie Helidi Mu. This identification appears on banners that are not visible in the photograph. 60.  The first character in the title is not fully legible but clearly has the component ke that appears in the various transliterations of the name Hārītī. 61. Dean, Taoist Ritual and Popular Cults of Southeast China; Johnson, Spectacle and Sacrifice. 62.  I follow Hou’s version here, as the version I collected reads “the night is like the snow of ice and frost.” 63.  Terry Kleeman and Kenneth Dean have noted that Dongjing hui in Yunnan perform Daoist liturgies that developed elsewhere but now survive mainly in the Southwest. Kleeman, A God’s Own Tale, 82; Dean, Taoist Ritual and Popular Cults of Southeast China, 177. Liang Yongjia identifies women’s Lianchi hui with benzhu worship and men’s Dongjing hui with local religion beyond benzhu worship, but this binary does not address the participation of Dongjing hui in benzhu ritual or Lianchi hui participation in non-benzhu religious practices. See Liang Yongjia, Diyu de dengji, 97. 64.  Other translocal festivals in Dali that incorporate village god worship, such as the three-day festival Raosanling (or Raoshanlin), involve multiple temples and multiple gods. 65. Boretz, Gods, Ghosts, and Gangsters, 95–97. 66.  This informant explicitly identified “Mother Alidi” (originally the Buddhist fertility goddess Hārītī) as Baijie. 67.  Notar, “Wild Histories,” 75–80. 68.  I discuss this issue in connection to the Tale of Woman Huang in Dali; see Bryson, “Religious Women and Modern Men.” N O T E S T O C O N C LU SIO N

1.  Carlitz, “The Daughter, the Singing-Girl, and the Seduction of Suicide,” 24.

REFERENCES

P R I M A RY S OU R C E S

Azhabuju yuanshuai dajiang shangfo tuoluoni xiuxing yigui 阿吒薄倶元帥大將上佛陀 羅尼經修行儀軌. T 1239. Baiguo yinyou 白國因由. Qing dynasty. In YNSLCK 11:161–169. Baozang tiannü tuoluoni fa 寶藏天女陀羅尼法. T 1282. Bo gu tongji qianshu jiaozhu 僰古通紀淺述校注. You Zhong 尤中. Kunming: Yunnan renmin chubanshe, 1988. Bukong juansuo shenbian zhenyan jing 不空罥索神變真言經. T 1092. Byakuhō kushō 白寶口抄. Ryōson 亮尊, based on the teachings of Ryōzen 亮禪 (1258– 1341). TZ, vols. 6–7. Byakuhō shō 白寶抄. Chōen 澄圓 (1218–1278). TZ, vol. 10. Chongjian Jinbang shan beiji 重建金鎊山碑記. Yang Si 楊賜. 1425. In Eryuan wenshi ziliao 洱源文史资料 6:113–115. Eryuan xian: Zhongguo renmin zhengzhi xieshang huiyi et al., 2004. Chongxiu Dashengsi beiming bing xu 重修大勝寺碑銘幷序. In JSP 10:21. Chongxiu Hongsheng si ji 重修弘聖寺記. Yang Shen 楊慎 (1488–1559). In FZP 1:499– 500. Chu sanzang jiji 出三藏記集. Sengyou 僧祐. Ca. 515. T 2145. Chushi Yang gong tongshi Li shi shouzang 處士楊公同室李氏壽藏. 1481. In Baizu shehui lishi diaocha 白族社会历史调查, edited by Yunnan sheng bianji zu, 4:71. Kunming: Yunnan renmin chubanshe, 1988. Cishan fei miao ji 慈善妃廟記. Feng Su 馮甦 (1628–1692). 1671. In JSP 10:143. Da Chongsheng si beiming bing xu 大崇聖寺碑銘並序. Li Yuandao 李源道. 1325. In JSP 10:19. Da Qing huidian shili 大清會典事例. Edited by Kun Gang 崑岡 et al. 1899. Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1991. Da Zhou gu Hedong zhou cishi zhi bei 大周故河東州刺史之碑. 698. In JSP 10:2–3. Dahei tianshen daochang yi 大黑天神道場儀. Transliterated and edited by Hou Chong 侯冲. In Zangwai fojiao wenxian 藏外佛教文獻, edited by Fang Guangchang 方廣 錩, 6:372–381. Beijing: Zongjiao wenhua chubanshe, 1998. Daikoku tenjin hō 大黑天神法. Shenkai 神愷. T 1287.

218 R E F E R E N C E S

Dali guo gu Gao Ji muming bei 大理圀故高姬墓銘碑. Yang Junsheng 楊俊升. 1230– 1238. In JSP 10:11. Dali guo Xisu lingfeng Mingdi ji 大理國嵇肅靈峰明帝記. Yang Caizhao 楊才照. 1186. In Nanzhao Dali wenwu 南诏大理文物, edited by Yunnan sheng wenwu guanli weiyuan hui, 163. Beijing: Wenwu chubanshe, 1992. Dali lu xingju xuexiao ji 大理路興舉學校記. 1288. In JSP 10:12. Dali xianzhi gao 大理縣志稿. Edited by Zhou Zonglin 周宗麟. 1916. In FZP 4:477–5:236. Dali xingji 大理行記. Guo Songnian 郭松年. Late thirteenth century. In YNSLCK 3:133– 137. Damiao jingang da ganlu Junnali yanman chisheng foding jing 大妙金剛大甘露軍拏利 焰鬘熾盛佛頂經. T 965. [Daoguang] Dengchuan zhouzhi [道光]鄧川州志. Edited by Gao Shanggui 高上桂 et al. In FZP 10:713–732. [Daoguang] Langqiong xianzhi [道光]浪穹縣志. Edited by Fan Zhaoxin 樊肇新. 1842. In FZP 10:733–833. [Daoguang] Yunnan tongzhi gao [道光]雲南通志稿. Edited by Wang Song 王崧 and Ruan Yuan 阮元. Manuscript from 1835. Publisher and place of publication unknown. [Daoguang] Zhaozhou zhi [道光]趙州志. Edited by Chen Zhaotang 陳釗堂 and Li Qi­ xing 李其馨. 1835. In FZP 4:279–475. Dapiluzhena chengfo jing shu 大毘盧遮那成佛經疏. Yixing 一行. Early eighth century. T 1796. Dari jing yishi yanmi chao 大日經義釋演密抄. Jueyuan 覺苑. 1070. ZZ 439. Dehua bei 德化碑 [as Nanzhao dehua bei 南詔德化碑]. 766. In JSP 10:3–5. Dian kao 滇考. Feng Su 馮甦 (1628–1692). In YNSLCK 11:1–64. Dian lue 滇略. Xie Zhaozhi 謝肇淛. Ca. 1630s. In YNSLCK 6:660–804. Dian shiji 滇釋紀. Shi Yuanding 釋圓鼎. Qing dynasty. In YNSLCK 8:80–118. Dian zaiji 滇載記. Yang Shen 楊慎 (1488–1559). In YNSLCK 4:752–765. Dian zhi 滇志. Edited by Liu Wenzheng 劉文徵. FZP, vols. 2–3. Dianzhong suoji 滇中瑣記. Yang Qiong 楊琼. 1907. In YNSLCK 11:239–325. Dizang si gu chuang ji 地藏寺古幢記. Duan Jinquan 段進全. Early thirteenth century. In JSP 10:6. Duan shi yu sanshiqi bu huimeng bei 段氏與三十七部會盟碑. 971. In JSP 10:6. Erhai congtan 洱海叢談. Shi Tongkui 釋同揆. 1688. In YNSLCK 11:362–373. Foshuo Dajixiang tiannü shi’er minghao jing 佛說大吉祥天女十二名號經. Translation attributed to Amoghavajra (Chn. Bukong 不空; 705–774). T 1252. Foshuo jiuba yankou egui tuoluoni jing 佛説救拔焔口餓鬼陀羅尼經. T 1313. Foshuo tiandi bayang shenzhou jing 佛說天地八陽神咒經. Translation attributed to Yijing 義淨 (635–713). T 2897. Gaofeng Longquan yuan yinshi jixian yulu 高峰龍泉院因師集賢語錄. Compiled by Ruying 如瑛. Yuan dynasty. ZZ 1277. Gu shanshi Yang Zong muzhi 故善士楊宗墓誌. Yang Andao 楊安道. 1453. In Baizu shehui lishi diaocha 白族社会历史调查, edited by Yunnan sheng bianji zu, 4:69. Kunming: Yunnan renmin chubanshe, 1988.



R E F E R E N C E S  219

Gu Xi [Shi] yi yue Xiangxing yide lüjie dashi muzhi bing xu 故溪囗[氏]謚曰襄行宜德 履戒大師墓誌并敘. 1239–51. In Dali Wuhua lou xinchu yuanbei xuanlu bing kaoshi 大理五华楼新出元碑选录并考释, edited by Fang Linggui 方龄贵 and Wang Yun 王云, 5–7. Kunming: Yunnan daxue chubanshe, 2000. Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi 廣施無遮道場儀. Transliterated and edited by Hou Chong 侯冲. In Zangwai fojiao wenxian 藏外佛教文獻, edited by Fang Guangchang 方廣 錩, 6:360–371. Beijing: Zongjiao wenhua chubanshe, 1998. [Guangxu] Jianchuan zhigao [光緒]劍川志稿. In FZP 9:669–695. [Guangxu] Langqiong xian zhilue [光緒]浪穹縣志略. Edited by Zhou Hang 周沆. 1903. In FZP 8:1–169. Guihai yuheng zhi 桂海虞衡志. Fan Chengda 范成大. Late twelfth century. Selections related to Yunnan in YNSLCK 2:230–236. Guizimu jing 鬼子母經. T 1262. Han shu 漢書. Ban Gu 班固 (32–92), Ban Zhao 班昭 (ca. 49–ca. 120). Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1962. Hou Han shu 後漢書. Fan Ye 范曄 (398–445). Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1965. Huayang guo zhi jiaobu tuzhu 華陽國志校補圖注. Chang Qu 常璩 (fl. 265–316). Annotated and edited by Ren Naiqiang 任乃强. Shanghai: Shanghai guji chubanshe, 1987. Huguo sinan chao 護國司南鈔. 1052. In DZJP 1:3–83. Ji gu Dian shuo ji 記古滇說集. Zhang Daozong 張道宗. Late thirteenth century (extant version dates to 1549). In YNSLCK 2:652–663. [Jiajing] Dali fuzhi [嘉靖]大理府志. Li Yuanyang 李元陽. 1522–1566. In FZP 4:3–33. Jianchuan xianzhi caifang ce 劍川縣志採訪冊. Compiled by Zhao Fan 趙藩 et al. Late Qing–early Republican era. Manuscript held in Yunnan Province Library. Jin shu 晉書. Fang Xuanling 房玄齡 (578–648). Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1974. Jingang daguanding daochang yi 金剛大灌頂道場儀. In DZJP 3:527–706. Jingde chuandeng lu 景德傳燈錄. Daoyuan 道原. Ca. 1004. T 2076. Jiu Tang shu 舊唐書. Liu Xu 劉昫 (887–946). Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1975. [Kangxi] Dali fuzhi [康熙]大理府志. Edited by Huang Yuanzhi 黃元治. 1694. In FZP 4:35–276. [Kangxi] Heqing fuzhi [康熙]鶴慶府志. Edited by Tong Zhen 佟鎮, Li Zhuoyun 李倬 雲, and Zou Qimeng 鄒啟孟. 1714. In FZP 8:171-356. [Kangxi] Jianchuan zhouzhi [康熙]劍川州志. Edited by Wang Shigui 王世貴, He Ji­ sheng 何基盛, and Zhang Lun 張倫. 1714. In FZP 9:561-668. [Kangxi] Langqiong xianzhi [康熙]浪穹縣志. Edited by Zhao Gong 趙珙. 1690. In FZP 7:321–414. [Kangxi] Menghua fuzhi [康熙]蒙化府志. Edited by Jiang Xu 蔣旭. 1698. In FZP 6:3– 217. [Kangxi] Xuxiu Langqiong xianzhi [康熙]續修浪穹縣志. Edited by Lun Jue 倫覺 and Yang Jing 楊鯨. 1713. In FZP 7:415–457. Keiranshūyōshū 溪嵐拾葉集. Compiled by Kōshū 光宗 (1276–1350). 1348. T 2410. Lienü zhuan 列女傳. Liu Xiang 劉向 (77?–6? BCE). Taipei: Taiwan Zhonghua shuju, 1981.

220 R E F E R E N C E S

Liji 禮記. In Duanju shisanjing jingwen 斷句十三經經文. Taipei: Taiwan kaiming shudian, 1991. Liji zhushu 禮記注疏. Annotated by Kong Yingda 孔穎達 (574–648) and Lu Deming 陸 德明 (556–627). Taipei: Taiwan Zhonghua shuju, 1965. Ling wai daida 嶺外代答. Zhou Qufei 周去非 (fl. late twelfth century). Selections related to Yunnan in YNSLCK 2:248–254. Liuzu dashi fabao tan jing 六祖大師法寶壇經. T 2008. Luoshen fu 洛神賦. Cao Zhi 曹植 (192–232). In Wei Jin Nanbeichao wenxueshi cankao ziliao 魏晉南北朝文學史參考資料, edited by Beijing daxue Zhongguo wenxueshi jiaoyanshi 北京大學中國文學史教研室, 1:93–106. Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1962. Man shu 蠻書. Fan Chuo 樊綽. Eighth century. As Yunnan zhi 雲南志 in YNSLCK 2:1–108. Maoting kehua 茅亭客話. Huang Xiufu 黃休復 (fl. tenth–eleventh centuries). Shanghai: Hanfen lou, 1922. Mengzi zhushu 孟子注疏. Zhao Qi 趙岐 (d. 201) and Sun Shi 孫奭 (962–1033). Taipei: Zhonghua shuju, 1965. Miaofa lianhua jing 妙法蓮華經. Translated by Kumārajīva (344–413). T 262. Miji lishi daquan shenwang jing jiesong 密跡力士大權神王經偈頌. Compiled by Guanzhuba 管主八. Ca. 1300. T 1688. Ming shi 明史. Zhang Tingyu 張廷玉 (1672–1755). Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1974. Ming shilu 明實錄. Taipei: Zhongyang yanjiuyuan lishi yuyan yanjiusuo, 1962–1966. Mouli mantuoluo zhoujing 牟梨曼陀羅呪經. T 1007. Nanhai jiguinei fazhuan 南海寄歸內法傳. Yijing 義淨 (635–713). 691. T 2125. Nanzhao shijia 南詔世家. In Wang Song 王崧 (1752–1837), Daoguang Yunnan zhichao 道光雲南志鈔. Kunming: Yunnan sheng shehui kexue yuan, Wenxian yanjiusuo, 1995. Nanzhao tuzhuan 南詔圖傳. 945. In Li Lin-ts’an 李霖燦, Nanzhao Dali guo xin ziliao de zonghe yanjiu 南詔大理國新資料的綜合研究, 128–150. Taiwan Nan’gang: Zhongyang yanjiuyuan minzuxue yanjiusuo, 1982. Nanzhao yeshi 南詔野史. Ni Lu 倪輅. Ming dynasty. In YNSLCK 4:765–806. Nanzhao yeshi [Yang Shen] 南詔野史[楊慎]. Yang Shen 楊慎 (1488–1559). Taipei: Xinwenfeng chuban gongsi, 1989. Nanzhao yeshi dianzhu 南詔野史點注. Ruan Yuansheng 阮元聲 (Ming dynasty). ­Revised by Wang Song 王崧 (1752–1837). Annotated by Zheng Zurong 郑祖荣. ­Hohhot: Yuanfang chubanshe, 2004. Nanzhao yuanliu jiyao 南詔源流集要. Jiang Bin 蔣彬. 1532. In YNSLCK 4:745–752. [Qianlong] Yunnan tongzhi [乾隆]雲南通志. Edited by Ortai [E’ertai 鄂爾泰] (1680– 1745) and Jing Daomo 靖道謨 (date unknown). 1736. Taipei: Taiwan shangwu yinshuguan, 1983. Qing shilu 清實錄. Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1986. Qixian shan Bao’en fancha ji 棲賢山報恩梵剎記. Yang Sen 楊森. 1326. In Xinzuan Yunnan tongzhi 新纂雲南通志, edited by Li Chunlong 李春龙 and Niu Hongbin 牛鸿 斌, 5:266–268. Kunming: Yunnan renmin chubanshe, 2007 [1940s].



R E F E R E N C E S  221

Renwang bore boluomi jing 仁王般若波羅蜜經. Translation attributed to Kumārajīva (344–413). T 245. Renwang huguo bore boluomiduo jing 仁王護國般若波羅蜜多經. Translated by Amoghavajra (aka Bukong 不空; 705–774). T 246. Renwang jing shu 仁王經疏. Liang Bi 良賁 (717–777). T 1708. Ruyilun tuoluoni jing 如意輪陀羅尼經. Translated by Bodhiruci (Tang dynasty). T 1080. Sanguo zhi 三國志. Chen Shou 陳壽 (Jin dynasty). Annotated by Pei Songzhi 裴松之 (Song dynasty). Edited by Yang Jialuo 楊家駱. Taipei: Dingwen shuju, 1980. Sanling miao ji 三靈廟記. Yang Andao 楊安道. 1450. In JSP 10:49. Shiji 史記. Sima Qian 司馬遷 (Han dynasty). Taipei: Dingwen shuju, 1980. Shijing 詩經. In Duanju shisanjing jingwen 斷句十三經經文. Taipei: Taiwan kaiming shudian, 1991. Shishi tonglan 施食通覽. Compiled by Zongxiao 宗曉 (Song dynasty). ZZ 961. Song gaoseng zhuan 宋高僧傳. Zanning 贊寧 (920–1001). T 2061. Song shi 宋史. Tuotuo 脫脫 et al. (Yuan dynasty). Taipei: Dingwen shuju, 1980. Taiping guangji 太平廣記. Compiled by Li Fang 李昉 et al. Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1995 [1961]. Tongyong qiqing yigui 通用啟請儀軌. In DZJP 1:465–537. Tuoluoni zaji 陀羅尼雜集. T 1336. Wanli yehuo bian 萬曆野獲編. Shen Defu 沈德符 (1578–1642). Beijing: Zhonghua shuju, 1959. [Wanli] Yunnan tongzhi [萬曆]雲南通志. Edited by Li Yuanyang 李元陽 (1526 jinshi). In FZP 1:189–596. Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi 無遮燈食法會儀. In DZJP 4:1–33. Xi Erhe fengtu ji 西洱河風土記. Liang Jianfang 梁建芳. 648. In YNSLCK 2:216–221. [Xianfeng] Dengchuan zhouzhi [咸豐]鄧川州志. Edited by Hou Yunqin 侯允欽. In FZP 7:459–680. Xin shu 新書. Jia Yi 賈誼 (Han dynasty). Taipei: Taiwan Zhonghua shuju, 1981. Xin Tang shu 新唐書. Ouyang Xiu 歐陽修 (1007–1072) and Song Qi 宋祇 (Song dynasty). Taipei: Dingwen shuju, 1981. Xiu Baijie Shengfei Longwang hemiao beiji 修白姐聖妃龍王合廟碑記. Li Wenhai 李 文海. 1461. In Lijun shizheng 麗郡詩徵, compiled by Zhao Lianyuan 趙聯元 (Qing dynasty). Yunnan: Yunnan tushuguan, 1914. Xunzi 荀子. Edited by Li Disheng 李滌生. Taipei: Taiwan xuesheng shuju, 1979. [Yongzheng] Yunlong zhouzhi [雍正]雲龍州志. Edited by Chen Xifang 陳希芳. In FZP 7:203–317. Yu hai 玉海. Wang Yinglin 王應麟 (1223–1296). Taipei: Taiwan shangwu yinshuguan, 1983. Yuan shi 元史. Song Lian 宋濂 (Ming dynasty). Taipei: Dingwen shuju, 1981. Yunnan maima ji 雲南買馬記. Yang Zuo 楊佐. 1074. In YNSLCK 2:244–248. Yunnan zhilue 雲南志略. Li Jing 李京. 1301. In YNSLCK 3:120–133. Zhaozhou Nanshan Da Fazang si bei 趙州南山大法藏寺碑. 1421. In JSP 10:32.

222 R E F E R E N C E S

[Zhengde] Yunnan zhi [正德]雲南志. Zhou Jifeng 周季鳳. Shanghai: Shanghai shudian, 1990. Zhenyuan xinding Shijiao mulu 貞元新定釋教目錄. Compiled by Yuanzhao 圓照. Ca. 800. T 2157. Zhidao Yunnan lu 至道雲南錄. Xin Yixian 辛怡顯. 995. In YNSLCK 2:175–178. Zhou yi 周易. In Duanju shisanjing jingwen 斷句十三經經文. Taipei: Taiwan kaiming shudian, 1991. Zhufo pusa jingang deng qiqing yigui 諸佛菩薩金剛等啟請儀軌. In DZJP 2:51–265. Zizhi tongjian 資治通鑒. Sima Guang 司馬光 (1019–1086). Beijing: Guji chubanshe, 1956. Zunsheng foding xiu yuga fa guiyi 尊勝佛頂修瑜伽法軌儀. Śubhakarasiṃha (Chn. Shanwuwei 善無畏). Early eighth century. T 973. SE C O N DA RY S OU R C E S

Abramson, Marc S. Ethnic Identity in Tang China. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2008. Anderson, James A. “Man and Mongols: The Dali and Ðại Việt Kingdoms in the Face of the Northern Invasions.” In China’s Encounters on the South and Southwest: Reforging the Fiery Frontier over Two Millennia, edited by James A. Anderson and John K. Whitmore, 106–134. Leiden: Brill, 2015. Anderson, Samantha. “Gender and Ritual in South-East China.” In Annual Review of Women in World Religions, edited by Arvind Sharma and Katherine K. Young, 6:122–207. Albany: SUNY Press, 2002. Asad, Talal. Genealogies of Religion: Discipline and Reasons of Power in Christianity and Islam. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1993. Atwill, David G. The Chinese Sultanate: Islam, Ethnicity, and the Panthay Rebellion in Southwest China, 1856–1873. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2005. Backus, Charles. The Nan-chao Kingdom and T’ang China’s Southwestern Frontier. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1981. Bacot, Jacques, Frederick William Thomas, and Gustave Charles Toussaint. Documents de Touen-houang relatifs à l’histoire du Tibet. Paris: P. Guenther, 1940. Baizu shehui lishi diaocha 白族社会历史调查. Vol. 4. Edited by Yunnan sheng bianjizu 云南省编辑组. Kunming: Yunnan renmin chubanshe, 1988. Baizu shenhua chuanshuo jicheng 白族神話傳說集成. Edited by Yunnan sheng minjian wenxue jicheng bangongshi 云南省民间文学集成办公室. Beijing: Zhongguo minjian wenxue chubanshe, 1986. Baptandier, Brigitte. The Lady of Linshui: A Chinese Female Cult. Translated by Kristin Ingrid Fryklund. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2008. Barlow, Tani E. “Theorizing Woman: Funü, Guojia, Jiating (Chinese Woman, Chinese State, Chinese Family).” In Body, Subject, and Power in China, edited by Angela Zito and Tani E. Barlow, 253–289. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1994. Barthes, Roland. Mythologies. Translated by Annette Lavers. New York: Hill and Wang, 1972.



R E F E R E N C E S  223

Beckwith, Christopher I. “The Revolt of 755 in Tibet.” In The History of Tibet, vol. 1: The Early Period: To c. AD 850, the Yarlung Dynasty, edited by Alex McKay, 273–285. Richmond, UK: RoutledgeCurzon, 2003. ———. The Tibetan Empire in Central Asia: A History of the Struggle for Great Power among Tibetans, Turks, Arabs, and Chinese during the Early Middle Ages. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1987. Berger, Patricia Ann. Empire of Emptiness: Buddhist Art and Political Authority in Qing China. Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 2003. Bielenstein, Hans. “The Institutions of Later Han.” In The Cambridge History of China, vol. 1: The Ch’in and Han Empires, 221 B.C.–A.D. 220, edited by Denis Twitchett and Michael Loewe, 491–519. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1986. Birge, Bettine. “Levirate Marriage and the Revival of Widow Chastity in Yuan China.” Asia Major: Third Series 8, no. 2 (1995): 107–147. Blackmore, Michael. “The Ethnological Problems Connected with Nanchao.” In Symposium on Historical, Archaeological and Linguistic Studies on Southern China, South-East Asia and the Hong Kong Region: Papers Presented at Meetings Held in September 1961 as Part of the Golden Jubilee Congress of the University of Hong Kong, edited by Frederick Sequier Drake, 59–69. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 1967. Boltz, Judith Magee. “In Homage to T’ien-fei.” Journal of the American Oriental Society 106, no. 1 (Jan.–Mar. 1986): 211–232. Boretz, Avron. Gods, Ghosts, and Gangsters: Ritual Violence, Martial Arts, and Masculinity on the Margins of Chinese Society. Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 2011. Bossler, Beverly. Courtesans, Concubines, and the Cult of Female Fidelity. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Asia Center, 2013. Brubaker, Rogers. Ethnicity without Groups. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2004. Bryson, Megan. “Mahākāla Worship in the Dali Kingdom (937–1253): A Study of the ­Dahei tianshen daochang yi.” Journal of the International Association of Buddhist Studies 35 (2012/2013): 3–69. ———. “Religious Women and Modern Men: Intersections of Ethnicity and Gender in The Tale of Woman Huang.” Signs: Journal of Women in Culture and Society 40, no. 3 (Spring 2015): 623–646. Butler, Judith. Bodies That Matter. New York: Routledge, 2011 [1993]. Bynum, Caroline Walker. “Introduction: The Complexity of Symbols.” In Gender and Religion: On the Complexity of Symbols, edited by Caroline Walker Bynum, Stevan Harrell, and Paula Richman, 1–20. Boston: Beacon Press, 1986. Carlitz, Katherine. “The Daughter, the Singing-Girl, and the Seduction of Suicide.” In Passionate Women: Female Suicide in Late Imperial China, edited by Paul S. Ropp, Paola Zamperini, and Harriet T. Zurndorfer, 22–46. Leiden: Brill, 2001. ———. “Shrines, Governing-Class Identity, and the Cult of Widow Fidelity in MidMing Jiangnan.” Journal of Asian Studies 56, no. 3 (Aug. 1997): 612–640. Chao, Emily. “Hegemony, Agency, and Re-presenting the Past: The Invention of Dongba

224 R E F E R E N C E S

Culture among the Naxi of Southwest China.” In Negotiating Ethnicities in China and Taiwan, edited by Melissa J. Brown, 208–239. Berkeley: Center for Chinese Studies, Institute of East Asian Studies, University of California, 1996. Chapin, Helen B. “A Long Roll of Buddhist Images (I).” Edited and annotated by Alexander C. Soper. Artibus Asiae 32, no. 1 (1970): 5–41. ———. “A Long Roll of Buddhist Images (II).” Edited and annotated by Alexander C. Soper. Artibus Asiae 32, nos. 2–3 (1970): 157–199. ———. “A Long Roll of Buddhist Images (III).” Edited and annotated by Alexander C. Soper. Artibus Asiae 32, no. 4 (1970): 259–289, 291–306. ———. “A Long Roll of Buddhist Images (IV).” Edited and annotated by Alexander C. Soper. Artibus Asiae 33, nos. 1–2 (1971): 75–140. ———. “Yünnanese Images of Avalokiteśvara.” Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies 8, no. 2 (Aug. 1944): 131–186. Chau, Adam Yuet. Miraculous Response: Doing Popular Religion in Contemporary China. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2006. Chavannes, Édouard. “Une inscription du royaume de Nan-tchao.” Journal asiatique, ser. 9, no. 12 (1900): 381–450. Chen Zhi. “From Exclusive Xia to Inclusive Zhu-Xia: The Conceptualisation of Chinese Identity in Early China.” Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society, 3rd ser., 14, no. 3 (Nov. 2004): 185–205. Cheung, Neky Tak-ching. Women’s Ritual in China: Jiezhu (Receiving Buddhist Prayer Beads) Performed by Menopausal Women in Ninghua, Western Fujian. Lewiston, NY: Edwin Mellen Press, 2008. Cheung, Siu-woo. “Miao Identities, Indigenism and the Politics of Appropriation in Southwest China during the Republican Period.” Asian Ethnicity 4, no. 1 (Mar. 2003): 85–114. Chutiwongs, Nandana. “The Iconography of Avalokiteśvara in Mainland Southeast Asia.” PhD diss., Leiden University, 1984. Cleary, Thomas F. “List of the Buddhas, Bodhisattvas, and Other Figures Found in The Buddha Scroll.” In The Buddha Scroll, by Ding Guanpeng 丁觀鵬 (18th century), n.p. Boston: Shambhala Press, 1999. Cohen, Richard S. “Nāga, Yakṣiṇī, Buddha: Local Deities and Local Buddhism at Ajanta.” History of Religions 37, no. 4 (1998): 360–400. Daly, Mary. Beyond God the Father: Toward a Philosophy of Women’s Liberation. Boston: Beacon Press, 1985 [1973]. Davidson, Ronald M. Indian Esoteric Buddhism: A Social History of the Tantric Movement. New York: Columbia University Press, 2002. Davies, H. R. [Henry Rodolph]. Yün-nan: The Link between India and the Yangtze. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1908. Dean, Kenneth. Lord of the Three in One: The Spread of a Cult in Southeast China. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1998. ———. Taoist Ritual and Popular Cults of Southeast China. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1993.



R E F E R E N C E S  225

Derrida, Jacques. Of Grammatology. Translated by Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak. Baltimore: Johns Hopkins University Press, 1974. di Cosmo, Nicola. Ancient China and Its Enemies: The Rise of Nomadic Power in East Asian History. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2002. Diény, Jean-Pierre. Le symbolisme du dragon dans la Chine antique. Paris: Institut des hautes études chinoises, Collège de France, 1987. Dotson, Brandon. The Old Tibetan Annals: An Annotated Translation of Tibet’s Oldest History. Vienna: Verlag der osterreichischen Akademie der Wissenschaften, 2009. Duan Yuming 段玉明. Dali guo shi 大理国史. Kunming: Yunnan minzu chubanshe, 2003. Duara, Prasenjit. “Knowledge and Power in the Discourse of Modernity: The Campaigns against Popular Religion in Early Twentieth-Century China.” Journal of Asian Studies 50, no. 1 (Feb. 1991): 67–83. ———. “Superscribing Symbols: The Myth of Guandi, Chinese God of War.” Journal of Asian Studies 47, no. 4 (Nov. 1988): 778–795. Eberhard, Wolfram. The Local Cultures of South and East China. Leiden: Brill, 1969. Ebrey, Patricia Buckley. The Inner Quarters: Marriage and the Lives of Chinese Women in the Sung Period. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993. Elliott, Mark C. “Manchu Widows and Ethnicity in Qing China.” Comparative Studies in Society and History 41, no. 1 (Jan. 1999): 33–71. Elton, Hugh. Frontiers of the Roman Empire. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1996. Elvin, Mark. “Female Virtue and the State in China.” Past and Present, no. 104 (Aug. 1984): 111–152. Fan Yitian 范義田. Yunnan gudai minzu zhi shi de fenxi 雲南古代民族之史的分析. Washington, DC: Center for Chinese Research Materials, Association of Research Libraries [originally published Chongqing: Shangwu yinshuguan], 1944. Fang Guoyu 方国瑜. “Guanyu Baizu de mingcheng wenti” 關於白族的名稱問題. In Yunnan Baizu de qiyuan he xingcheng lunwen ji 雲南白族的起源和形成論文集, edited by Yang Kun 楊堃, 12–17. Kunming: Yunnan renmin chubanshe, 1957. ———. “Ming xiu jiuzhong Yunnan shengzhi gaishuo” 明修九种云南省志概说. Si­ xiang zhanxian, no. 3 (1981): 67–75. ———. “Tangdai qianqi Erhai quyu de buzu” 唐代前期洱海区域的部族. Yunnan minzu daxue xuebao (zhexue shehui kexue ban), no. 1 (1983): 38–45. Faure, Bernard. “Bodhidharma as Textual and Religious Paradigm.” History of Religions 25, no. 3 (Feb. 1986): 187–198. ———. The Fluid Pantheon. Vol. 1 of Gods of Medieval Japan. Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 2015. ———. The Power of Denial: Buddhism, Purity, and Gender. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2003. ———. “Space and Place in Chinese Religious Traditions.” History of Religions 26, no. 4 (1987): 337–356. Feiyuxi2008. “Baijie Shengfei: Baizu nüxing yongheng de jiao’ao” 白洁圣妃：白族女

226 R E F E R E N C E S

性永恒的骄傲. Zhongguo Yahu luntan 中国雅虎论坛, January 30, 2010, http://bbs .yahoo.cn/read-htm-tid-597711.html. Fitzgerald, C. P. [Charles Patrick]. The Tower of Five Glories: A Study of the Min Chia of Ta Li, Yunnan. London: Cresset Press, 1941. Forte, Antonino. Political Propaganda and Ideology in China at the End of the Seventh Century: An Inquiry into the Nature, Authors, and Functions of the Dunhuang Document S.6502, Followed by an Annotated Translation. Naples: Istituto universitario orientale di Napoli, Seminario di studi asiatici, 1976. Freedman, Maurice. “On the Sociological Study of Chinese Religion.” In Religion and Ritual in Chinese Society, edited by Arthur P. Wolf, 19–41. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1974. Getty, Alice. The Gods of Northern Buddhism. Rutland, VT: Tuttle, 1962. Giersch, C. Patterson. Asian Borderlands: The Transformation of Qing China’s Yunnan Frontier. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2006. Gladney, Dru. Dislocating China: Muslims, Minorities, and Other Subaltern Subjects. Chi­cago: University of Chicago Press, 2004. Goepper, Roger. Aizen-Myōō: The Esoteric King of Lust; An Iconological Study. Artibus Asiae Supplementum 39. Zurich: Museum Rietberg, 1993. Goossaert, Vincent, and David A. Palmer. The Religious Question in Modern China. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 2011. Guy, John. “The Avalokiteśvara of Yunnan and Some South East Asian Connections.” In South East Asia and China: Art, Interaction and Commerce, edited by John Guy and Rosemary Scott, 64–83. London: Percival David Foundation of Chinese Art, 1995. Harrell, Stevan. “Introduction: Civilizing Projects and the Reaction to Them.” In Cultural Encounters on China’s Ethnic Frontiers, edited by Stevan Harrell, 3–36. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1995. ———. Ways of Being Ethnic in Southwest China. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2001. Harvey, G. E. [Godfrey Eric]. History of Burma: From the Earliest Times to 10 March, 1824, the Beginning of the English Conquest. London: Longmans, Green, 1925. Herman, John E. Amid the Clouds and Mist: China’s Colonization of Guizhou, 1200–1700. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Asia Center, 2007. Ho Ts’ui-p’ing. “Gendering Ritual Community across the Chinese Southwest Borderland.” In Chieftains into Ancestors: Imperial Expansion and Indigenous Society in Southwest China, edited by David Faure and Ho Ts’ui-p’ing, 206–246. Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2013. Hou Chong 侯冲. Baizu xinshi: “Bai gu tong ji” yanjiu 白族心史──《白古通记》研 究. Kunming: Yunnan minzu chubanshe, 2002. ———. “Cong Fude Longnü dao Baijie Amei: Jixiang tian zai Yunnan de yanbian” 从福 德龙女到白姐阿妹：吉祥天在云南的演变. In Dali minzu wenha yanjiu luncong 大理民族文化研究论丛, edited by Cun Yunji 寸云激, 5:357–374. Beijing: Minzu chubanshe, 2013.



R E F E R E N C E S  227

———. “Dahei Tianshen yu Baijie Shengfei xin ziliao yanjiu” 大黑天神与白姐圣妃新 资料研究. Dali wenhua 86, no. 2 (1994): 54–57. ———. “Dali guo xiejing yanjiu” 大理国写经研究. Minzu xuebao, no. 4 (Dec. 2006): 11–60. ———. Yunnan Azhalijiao jingdian yanjiu 云南阿吒力教经典研究. Beijing: Zhongguo shuji chubanshe, 2008. ———. Yunnan yu Ba Shu fojiao yanjiu lungao 云南与巴蜀佛教研究论稿. Beijing: Zongjiao wenhua chubanshe, 2006. Howard, Angela F. “Buddhist Monuments of Yunnan: Eclectic Art of a Frontier Kingdom.” In Arts of the Sung and Yuan: Papers prepared for an international symposium organized by the Metropolitan Museum of Art in conjunction with the exhibition “Splendors of Imperial China: Treasures from the National Palace Museum,” Taipei, edited by Maxwell K. Hearn and Judith G. Smith, 231–245. New York: Metropolitan Museum of Art, 1996. ———. “The Dhāraṇī Pillar of Kunming, Yunnan: A Legacy of Esoteric Buddhism and Burial Rites of the Bai People in the Kingdom of Dali (937–1253).” Artibus Asiae 57, nos. 1–2 (1997): 33–72. ———. “The Eight Brilliant Kings of Wisdom of Southwest China.” Res 35 (Spring 1999): 92–107. Hsu, Francis L. K. Under the Ancestors’ Shadow: Kinship, Personality and Social Mobility in China. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1971 [1948]. Huang Yilu 黄懿陆. Dianguo shi 滇国史. Kunming: Yunnan renmin chubanshe, 2004. Hucker, Charles O. A Dictionary of Official Titles in Imperial China. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1985. Idema, Wilt L. Meng Jiangnü Brings Down the Great Wall: Ten Versions of a Chinese Legend. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2008. Iyanaga Nobumi 弥永信美. Daikokuten hensō 大黒天変相. Kyoto: Hōzōkan, 2002. Jing, Anning. “Yongle Palace: The Transformation of the Daoist Pantheon during the Yuan Dynasty (1260–1368).” PhD diss., Princeton University, 1994. Jinsha 金沙. Ningbei fei 寧北妃. Taipei: Xiuwei zixun keji, 2010. Johnson, David. Spectacle and Sacrifice: The Ritual Foundations of Village Life in North China. Harvard East Asian Monographs 315. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Asia Center, 2009. Jordaan, Roy E. “Tārā and Nyai Lara Kidul: Images of the Divine Feminine in Java.” Asian Folklore Studies 56, no. 2 (1997): 285–312. Judge, Joan. The Precious Raft of History: The Past, the West, and the Woman Question in China. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2008. Kang, Xiaofei. The Cult of the Fox: Power, Gender, and Popular Religion in Late Imperial and Modern China. New York: Columbia University Press, 2006. Katz, Paul. Demon Hordes and Burning Boats: The Cult of Marshal Wen in Late Imperial Chekiang. Albany: SUNY Press, 1995. Kleeman, Terry. A God’s Own Tale: The Book of Transformations of Wenchang, the Divine Lord of Zitong. Albany: SUNY Press, 1994.

228 R E F E R E N C E S

———. Great Perfection: Religion and Ethnicity in a Chinese Millennial Kingdom. Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 1998. Ko, Dorothy. Cinderella’s Sisters: A Revisionist History of Footbinding. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2005. Ku Cheng-mei 古正美. Cong tianwang chuantong dao fowang chuantong: Zhongguo zhongshi fojiao zhiguo yishixingtai yanjiu 從天王傳統到佛王傳統──中國中世 佛教治國意識形態研究. Taipei: Shang Zhou chuban, 2003. Lee Yü-min 李玉珉. “Fanxiang juan Shijia fohui, luohan, ji zushi xiang zhi yanjiu” 梵 像卷釋迦佛會、羅漢及祖師像之研究. In Zhonghua minguo jianguo bashi nian Zhongguo yishu wenwu taolunhui lunwenji 中華民國建國八十年中國藝術文物討 論會論文集, edited by Guoli gugong bowuyuan bianji weiyuanhui, 195–219. Taipei: Guoli gugong bowuyuan, 1992. ———. “Nanzhao Dali Daheitian tuxiang yanjiu” 南詔大理大黑天圖像研究. Gugong xueshu jikan 13, no. 2 (1995): 21–48. ———. “Nanzhao Dali fojiao diaoke chutan” 南詔大理佛教雕刻初探. In Yunnan fojiao lunwen ji 雲南佛教論文集, edited by Lan Jifu 藍吉富, 347–383. Gaoxiong: Foguang chubanshe, 1991. ———. “Zhang Shengwen Fanxiang juan zhi Guanyin yanjiu” 張勝瘟梵像卷之觀音研 究. Dongwu daxue Zhongguo yishushi jikan 15 (Feb. 1987): 227–264. Leibold, James. “Competing Narratives of Racial Unity in Republican China.” Modern China 32, no. 2 (Apr. 2006): 181–220. Li Donghong 李东红. Baizu fojiao mizong: Achili jiaopai yanjiu 白族佛教密宗──阿 叱力教派研究. Kunming: Yunnan minzu chubanshe, 2000. Li Gong 李公. Nanzhao shigao 南诏史稿. Beijing: Minzu chubanshe, 2006. Li Jiarui 李家瑞. “Shibao shan shidiao wangzhe xiang san ku shishi” 石宝山石雕王者 像三窟试释. In Dali Baizu Zizhizhou lishi wenwu diaocha ziliao 大理白族自治州 历史文物调查资料, edited by Li Jiarui, Zhou Yongxian 周泳先, Yang Yucai 杨毓 才, and Li Yifu 李一夫, 59–63. Kunming: Yunnan renmin chubanshe, 1958. Li Li 李莉. “Renxing de liliang, shengnü de meili: Baijie Shengfei juben jiedu” 人性的 力量，圣女的魅力──《白洁圣妃》剧本解读. From the playbill of the drama Baijie Shengfei 白洁圣妃, performed at the Dali Zhou minzu gewu juyuan 大理州 民族歌舞剧院 in November 2006. Li Lin-ts’an 李霖燦. Nanzhao Dali guo xin ziliao de zonghe yanjiu 南詔大理國新資料 的綜合研究. Taiwan Nan’gang: Zhongyang yanjiuyuan minzuxue yanjiusuo, 1982. Li Xiaorong 李小荣. Dunhuang mijiao wenxian lungao 敦煌密教文献论稿. Beijing: Renmin wenxue chubanshe, 2003. Li Yifu 李一夫. “Baizu de benzhu jiqi shenhua chuanshuo” 白族的本主及其神话传说. In Dali Baizu Zizhizhou lishi wenwu diaocha ziliao 大理白族自治州历史文物调查 资料, edited by Li Jiarui 李家瑞, Zhou Yongxian 周泳先, Yang Yucai 杨毓才, and Li Yifu, 67–88. Kunming: Yunnan renmin chubanshe, 1958. Li Zanxu 李缵续. “Baizu ‘benzhu’ wenhua jianlun” 白族“本主”文化简论. In Dali congshu. Benzhu pian 大理丛书. 本主篇, edited by Yang Shiyu 杨世钰, Zhao Yinsong



R E F E R E N C E S  229

赵寅松, and Yang Zhengye 杨政业, 2:408–415. Kunming: Yunnan minzu chubanshe, 2004. Lian Ruizhi 連瑞枝. “Nüxing zuxian huo nüshen: Yunnan Erhai diqu de shizu chuanshuo yu nüshen xinyang” 女性祖先或女神──雲南洱海地區的始祖傳說與女神 信仰. Lishi renleixue xuekan 3, no. 2 (2005): 25–56. ———. “Surviving Conquest in Dali: Chiefs, Deities, and Ancestors.” In Chieftains into Ancestors: Imperial Expansion and Indigenous Society in Southwest China, edited by David Faure and Ho Ts’ui-p’ing, 86–110. Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2013. ———. “Wangquan, xipu, yu hunyin: cong Yunnan Erhai diqu fojiao chuanshuo de jiegou tan mingjia de xingcheng” 王权,系谱与婚姻──从云南洱海地区佛教 传说的结构谈名家的形成. In Nanzhao Dali lishi wenhua guoji xueshu taolunhui lunwenji 南诏大理历史文化国际学术讨论会论文集, edited by Lin Chaomin 林 超民, Yang Zhengye 杨政业, and Zhao Yinsong 赵寅松, 396–416. Beijing: Minzu chubanshe, 2006. ———. Yincang de zuxian: Miaoxiang guo de chuanshuo he shehui 隐藏的祖先──妙 香国的传说和社会. Beijing: Shenghuo, dushu, xinzhi sanlian shudian, 2007. Liang Yongjia 梁永佳. Diyu de dengji: yige Dali cunzhen de yishi yu wenhua 地域的等 级──一个大理村镇的仪式与文化. Beijing: Shehui kexue wenxian chubanshe, 2005. ———. “The ‘Ethnic Error’ in Under the Ancestors’ Shadow and Dali Society in the Period of the Nationalist Government.” Chinese Sociology and Anthropology 42, no. 4 (2010): 78–94. ———. “Stranger-Kingship and Cosmocracy; or, Sahlins in Southwest China.” Asia Pacific Journal of Anthropology 12, no. 3 (2011): 236–254. ———. “Wangquan shenhua yu shengyu yishi: yige Dali shenhua yu chaosheng zhi jian de jiegou guanxi” 王权神话与生育仪式──一个大理神话与朝圣之间的结构关 系. Zhongguo xiangcun yanjiu 3, no. 1 (2006): 387–420. Liebenthal, Walter. “Sanskrit Inscriptions from Yunnan (I).” Monumenta Serica 12 (1947): 1–40. ———. “Sanskrit Inscriptions from Yünnan (II).” Sino-Indian Studies 5, no. 1 (1955): 46–68. Ling Chunsheng 凌純聲. “Tangdai Yunnan de wuman yu baiman kao” 唐代雲南的烏 蠻與白蠻考. Guoli zhongyang yanjiuyuan lishi yuyan yanjiusuo renleixue jikan 1, no. 1 (1938): 57–86. Litzinger, Ralph A. Other Chinas: The Yao and the Politics of National Belonging. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2000. Liu, Carl H. F. “A Study of the Religions of Hsichow (III).” Chinese Recorder 72, no. 7 (1941): 378–389. Liu, Lydia H. The Clash of Empires: The Invention of China in Modern World Making. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2004. Lu, Weijing. True to Her Word: The Faithful Maiden Cult in Late Imperial China. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2008.

230 R E F E R E N C E S

Luce, G. H. “The Career of Htilaing Min (Kyanzittha): The Uniter of Burma, fl. A.D. 1084–1113.” Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland, no. 1/2 (Apr. 1966): 53–68. Ludvik, Catherine. “From Sarasvatī to Benzaiten.” PhD diss., University of Toronto, 2001. Luo Zhao 罗炤. “Dali Chongsheng si Qianxun ta yu Jianji dazhong zhi mijiao tuxiang: jiantan Nanzhao tuzhuan dui lishi de cuangai” 大理崇圣寺千寻塔与建极大钟之 密教图像──兼谈《南诏图传》对历史的篡改. In Dali minzu wenhua yanjiu luncong 大理民族文化研究论丛, edited by Zhao Huairen 赵怀仁, 1:465–479. Beijing: Minzu chubanshe, 2004. Lutz, Albert, ed. Der Goldschatz der drei Pagoden: Buddhistische Kunst des Nanzhaound Dali-Königreichs in Yunnan, China. Zurich: Museum Rietberg, 1991. Makley, Charlene E. The Violence of Liberation: Gender and Tibetan Buddhist Revival in Post-Mao China. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2007. Mallmann, Marie Thérèse de. “Notes sur les bronzes du Yunnan représentant Avalokiteśvara.” Harvard Journal of Asiatic Studies 14, nos. 3–4 (Dec. 1951): 567–601. Matsumoto, Moritaka. “Chang Sheng-wen’s Long Roll of Buddhist Images: A Reconstruction and Iconology.” PhD diss., Princeton University, 1976. McBride, Richard D., II. “Is There Really ‘Esoteric’ Buddhism?” Journal of the International Association of Buddhist Studies 27 (2004): 329–356. Mollier, Christine. Buddhism and Taoism Face to Face: Scripture, Ritual, and Iconographic Exchange in Medieval China. Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 2008. Mullaney, Thomas S. “Ethnic Classification Writ Large: The 1954 Yunnan Province Ethnic Classification Project and Its Foundations in Republican-Era Taxonomic Thought.” China Information 18, no. 2 (2004): 207–241. Murray, Julia K. “Representations of Hāritī, the Mother of Demons, and the Theme of ‘Raising the Alms-Bowl’ in Chinese Painting.” Artibus Asiae 43, no. 4 (1981–1982): 253–284. Ning, Qiang. Art, Religion, and Politics in Medieval China: The Dunhuang Cave of the Zhai Family. Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 2004. Notar, Beth. Displacing Desire: Travel and Popular Culture in China. Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 2006. ———. “Wild Histories: Popular Culture, Place and the Past in Southwest China.” PhD diss., University of Michigan, 1999. Orzech, Charles D. “Esoteric Buddhism and the Shishi in China.” In The Esoteric Buddhist Tradition: Selected Papers from the 1989 SBS Conference, edited by Henrik H. Sørensen, 51–72. SBS Monographs no. 2. Copenhagen: Seminar for Buddhist Studies, 1994. ———. “The ‘Great Teaching of Yoga,’ the Chinese Appropriation of the Tantras, and the Question of Esoteric Buddhism.” Journal of Chinese Religions 34 (2006): 29–78. Padma, Sree. Vicissitudes of the Goddess: Reconstructions of the Gramadevata in India’s Religious Traditions. New York: Oxford University Press, 2013. Peirce, Charles Sanders. Collected Papers of Charles Sanders Peirce. Edited by Charles



R E F E R E N C E S  231

Hartshorne and Paul Weiss. 6 vols. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1931–1935. Pelliot, Paul. “Deux itinéraires de Chine en Inde à la fin du VIIIe siècle.” Bulletin de l’École française d’Extrême-Orient 4, no. 1 (1904): 131–413. Pirazzoli-t’Serstevens, Michèle. La civilisation du royaume de Dian à l’époque Han: D’après le matériel exhumé à Shizhai shan, Yunnan. Paris: École française d’ExtrêmeOrient, 1974. Robson, James. “Signs of Power: Talismanic Writing in Chinese Buddhism.” History of Religions 48, no. 2 (Nov. 2008): 130–169. Rossabi, Morris. “The Reign of Khubilai Khan.” In The Cambridge History of China, vol. 6: Alien Regimes and Border States, 907–1368, edited by Herbert Franke and Denis Twitchett, 414–489. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1994. Rowe, William T. Saving the World: Chen Hongmou and Elite Consciousness in Eighteenth-Century China. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2001. ———. “Women and the Family in Mid-Qing Social Thought: The Case of Chen Hongmou.” Late Imperial China 13, no. 2 (Dec. 1992): 1–41. Sangren, P. Steven. “Female Gender in Chinese Religious Symbols: Kuan Yin, Ma Tsu, and the Eternal Mother.” Signs 9, no. 1 (Autumn 1983): 4–25. Saussure, Ferdinand de. Course in General Linguistics. Rev. ed. Edited by Charles Bally and Albert Sechehaye in collaboration with Albert Reidlinger. Translated by Wade Baskin. London: Peter Owen, 1974. Schafer, Edward H. The Divine Woman: Dragon Ladies and Rain Maidens in T’ang Literature. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1973. Schein, Louisa. Minority Rules: The Miao and the Feminine in China’s Cultural Politics. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2000. Scott, James C. The Art of Not Being Governed: An Anarchist History of Upland Southeast Asia. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 2009. Sen, Tansen. “Astronomical Tomb Paintings from Xuanhua: Maṇḍalas?” Ars Orientalis 29 (1999): 29–54. ———. Buddhism, Diplomacy, and Trade: The Realignment of Sino-Indian Relations, 600–1400. Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 2003. Shahar, Meir, and Robert P. Weller. “Introduction: Gods and Society in China.” In Unruly Gods: Divinity and Society in China, edited by Meir Shahar and Robert P. Weller, 1–36. Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 1996. Sharf, Robert H. Coming to Terms with Chinese Buddhism: A Reading of the Treasure Store Treatise. Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 2002. Shi Zhongjian 石钟健. “Dian xi kaogu baogao” 滇西考古报告. In Baizu wenhua yanjiu 2003 白族文化研究2003, edited by Zhao Yinsong 赵寅松, 90–131. Beijing: Minzu chubanshe, 2004 [1944]. Siu, Helen. Agents and Victims in South China. New Haven, CT: Yale University Press, 1989. Smith, Anthony D. The Ethnic Origins of Nations. New York: Basil Blackwell, 1986. Smith, Jonathan Z. Map Is Not Territory: Studies in the History of Religions. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1993.

232 R E F E R E N C E S

Snyder-Reinke, Jeffrey. Dry Spells: State Rainmaking and Local Governance in Late Imperial China. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Asia Center, 2009. Sørensen, Henrik H. “Esoteric Buddhism in the Nanzhao and Dali Kingdoms (ca. 800–1253).” In Esoteric Buddhism and the Tantras in East Asia, edited by Charles D. Orzech, Henrik H. Sørensen, and Richard K. Payne, 379–392. Leiden: Brill, 2011. Spence, Jonathan D. “The K’ang-hsi Reign.” In The Cambridge History of China, vol. 9, pt. 1: The Ch’ing Empire to 1800, edited by Willard J. Peterson, 120–182. New York: Cambridge University Press, 2002. Stablein, William George. “The Mahākālatantra: A Theory of Ritual Blessings and Tantric Medicine.” PhD diss., Columbia University, 1976. Stevenson, Daniel B. “Text, Image, and Transformation in the History of the Shuilu fahui, the Buddhist Rite for the Deliverance of Creatures of Water and Land.” In Cultural Intersections in Later Chinese Buddhism, edited by Marsha Weidner, 30–70. Honolulu: University of Hawai‘i Press, 2001. Strickmann, Michel. Chinese Magical Medicine. Edited by Bernard Faure. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 2002. Strong, John S. The Legend of King Aśoka: A Study and Translation of the Aśokāvadāna. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1983. Struve, Lynn. “The Southern Ming, 1644–1662.” In The Cambridge History of China, vol. 7, pt. 1: The Ming Dynasty, 1368–1644, edited by Frederick W. Mote and Denis Twitchett, 641–725. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1988. Sun Taichu 孫太初. Yunnan gudai shike congkao 雲南古代石刻叢考. Beijing: Wenwu chubanshe, 1983. Sutton, Donald S. “Myth Making on an Ethnic Frontier: The Cult of the Heavenly Kings of West Hunan, 1715–1996.” Modern China 26, no. 4 (Oct. 2000): 448–500. Szonyi, Michael. “Making Claims about Standardization and Orthopraxy in Late Imperial China: Rituals and Cults in the Fuzhou Region in Light of Watson’s Theories.” Modern China 33, no. 1 (2007): 47–71. Takata, Tokio. “A Note on the Lijiang Tibetan Inscription.” Asia Major 19, nos. 1–2 (2006): 161–170. Teng, Emma Jinhua. Taiwan’s Imagined Geography: Chinese Colonial Travel Writing and Pictures, 1683–1895. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Asia Center, 2004. Theiss, Janet. “Managing Martyrdom: Female Suicide and Statecraft in Mid-Qing China.” In Passionate Women: Female Suicide in Late Imperial China, edited by Paul S. Ropp, Paola Zamperini, and Harriet T. Zurndorfer, 47–76. Leiden: Brill, 2001. Tian Huaiqing 田怀清. “Jianchuan Shizhong shan diqihao ku wangzhe xiang shishi” 劍川石鐘山第七號窟王者像試釋. In Yunnan fojiao lunwen ji 雲南佛教論文集, edited by Lan Jifu 藍吉富, 385–396. Gaoxiong: Foguang chubanshe, 1991. ———. “Luelun Baizu dui Zunsheng fomu de xinyang” 略论白族对尊胜佛母的信仰. In Baizu wenhua yanjiu: 2005 白族文化研究2005, edited by Zhao Yinsong 赵寅松, 403–417. Beijing: Minzu chubanshe, 2006. T’ien, Ju-k’ang. Male Anxiety and Female Chastity: A Comparative Study of Chinese Ethical Values in Ming-Ch’ing Times. Leiden: Brill, 1988.



R E F E R E N C E S  233

Ts’ai, Tung-Ch’un. “Tali Funeral Rites: A Study in ‘Ancestor Worship.’” MA thesis, Columbia University, 1947. van Schendel, Willem. “Geographies of Knowing, Geographies of Ignorance: Jumping Scale in Southeast Asia.” Environment and Planning D: Society and Space 20 (2002): 647–668. von Glahn, Richard. The Country of Streams and Grottoes: Expansion, Settlement, and the Civilizing of the Sichuan Frontier in Song Times. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Asia Center, 1988. ———. The Sinister Way: The Divine and the Demonic in Chinese Religious Culture. Berkeley: University of California Press, 2004. Wang, Eugene Yuejin. Shaping the Lotus Sutra: Buddhist Visual Culture in Medieval China. Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2005. Wang Jilin 王吉林. Tangdai Nanzhao yu Li Tang guanxi zhi yanjiu 唐代南詔與李唐關 係之研究. Taipei: Dongwu da xue, Zongjing xiao Taiwan shangwu yinshuguan, 1976. Wang Mingke 王明珂. Huaxia bianyuan: lishi jiyi yu zuqun rentong 華夏邊緣──歷史 記憶與族群認同. Taipei: Yunchen wenhua shiye gufen youxian gongsi, 1997. Wang Xiaoliang 王晓亮. “Diwu jie Zhongguo jingju yishujie huojiang mingdan” 第五 届中国京剧艺术节获奖名单, Dazhongwang 大众网, November 9, 2008, http:// www.dzwww.com/08/jjysj/200811/t20081109_4096445.htm. Watson, James L. “Standardizing the Gods: The Promotion of Tian Hou (‘Empress of Heaven’) along the South China Coast, 960–1960.” In James L. Watson and Rubie S. Watson, Village Life in Hong Kong: Politics, Gender, and Ritual in the New Territories, 269–310. Hong Kong: Chinese University Press, 2004. Wedemeyer, Christian K. Making Sense of Tantric Buddhism: History, Semiology, and Transgression in the Indian Traditions. New York: Columbia University Press, 2013. White, David Gordon. “Tantra in Practice: Mapping a Tradition.” In Tantra in Practice, edited by David Gordon White, 3–38. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2000. Whitfield, Roderick. The Art of Central Asia: The Stein Collection in the British Museum. New York: Kodansha International, 1983. Wolf, Arthur P. “Introduction.” In Religion and Ritual in Chinese Society, edited by Arthur P. Wolf, 1–18. Stanford, CA: Stanford University Press, 1974. Wu, David Y. H. “Culture Change and Ethnic Identity among Minorities in China.” In Special Issue on Ethnicity and Ethnic Groups in China, edited by Chien Chiao and Nicholas Tapp, 11–22. New Asia Academic Bulletin 8. Hong Kong: New Asia College, Chinese University of Hong Kong, 1989. Xia Xiaohong 夏晓虹. Wan Qing nüxing yu jindai Zhongguo 晚清女性与近代中国. Beijing: Beijing daxue chubanshe, 2004. Xie, Xiaohui 謝曉輝. “Diguo zhi zai Miao jiang: Qingdai Xiangxi de zhidu, liyi yu zuqun” 帝國之在苗疆──清代湘西的制度,禮儀與族群. Lishi renleixue xuekan 11, no. 1 (2013): 51–88. ———. “From Woman’s Fertility to Masculine Authority: The Story of the White Emperor Heavenly Kings in Western Hunan.” In Chieftains into Ancestors: Imperial Ex-

234 R E F E R E N C E S

pansion and Indigenous Society in Southwest China, edited by David Faure and Ho Ts’ui-p’ing, 111–137. Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2013. Xu Jiarui 徐嘉瑞. Dali gudai wenhuashi 大理古代文化史. Kunming: Yunnan renmin chubanshe, 2005 [1949]. Yanagida Seizan 柳田聖山. “Jinne no shōzō” 神会の肖像. Zen bunka kenkyūjo kiyō 15 (Dec. 1988): 215–243. Yang, Bin. Between Wind and Clouds: The Making of Yunnan (Second Century BCE to Twentieth Century CE). New York: Columbia University Press, 2008. Yang, Lihui, and Deming An, with Jessica Anderson Turner. Handbook of Chinese Mythology. Santa Barbara, CA: ABC-CLIO, 2005. Yang Xiandian 杨宪典. “Dali Baizu benzhu chongbai yanjiu” 大理白族本主崇拜研 究. In Dali congshu. Benzhu pian 大理丛书. 本主篇, edited by Yang Shiyu 杨世钰, Zhao Yinsong 赵寅松, anwd Yang Zhengye 杨政业, 2:416–427. Kunming: Yunnan minzu chubanshe, 2004. Yang Yanfu 杨延福. “Fengyi Beitangtian gu jingjuan qingli zayi” 凤仪北汤天古经卷清 理杂忆. Dali wenhua, no. 4 (1985): 55–63. Yang Zhengye 杨政业. Baizu benzhu wenhua 白族本主文化. Kunming: Yunnan renmin chubanshe, 1994. ———. “Baizu benzhu xinyang gaimao” 白族本主信仰概貌. Yunnan minzu xueyuan xuebao, no. 2 (1992): 45–48. ———. “Shishu Baizu benzhu shen de sanzhong fazhan leixing” 试述白族本主神的 三种发展类型. In Dali congshu. Benzhu pian 大理丛书. 本主篇, edited by Yang Shiyu 杨世钰, Zhao Yinsong 赵寅松, and Yang Zhengye, 555–560. Kunming: Yunnan minzu chubanshe, 2004. Yü, Chün-fang. “Der Guanyin-Kult in Yunnan.” In Der Goldschatz der drei Pagoden: Buddhistische Kunst des Nanzhao- und Dali-Königreichs in Yunnan, China, edited by Albert Lutz, 28–39. Zurich: Museum Rietberg, 1991. Zhang Xilu 张锡禄. Dali Baizu fojiao mizong 大理白族佛教密宗. Kunming: Yunnan minzu chubanshe, 1999. Zhao Yuzhong 赵玉中. “Wenben, qingjing yu zuqun rentong: Dali Erhai diqu yige cunluo de shenfen caoyan” 文本、情境与族群认同──大理洱海地区一个村落的身 份操演. PhD diss., Yunnan daxue, 2009. Zheng Tianting 鄭天挺. “Dali fanggu riji” 大理訪古日記. In Baizu wenhua yanjiu 2002 白族文化研究2002, edited by Zhao Yinsong 赵寅松, 10–53. Beijing: Minzu chubanshe, 2003 [1944]. Zuo Zhixin 左志新. “Dui jingju Baijie shengfei de yidian yijian” 对京剧白洁圣妃的一 点意见, Hebei xinwen wang 河北新闻网, March 11, 2008, http://ping.hebnews.cn/ ylpl/2008/0311/ff808081189ba23a01189cf638a512a3.html.

INDEX

Note: Page references followed by f or m refer to figures or maps, respectively. ācāryas, 47, 197n126 Acuoye Guanyin: as civilizing agent, 60–61; in Dali kingdom Buddhism, 45–46, 82; in the Fanxiang juan, 45–46, 50; in the Nanzhao tuzhuan, 32–36, 192n62, 192n65, 196n20; Southeast Asian sources for, 191–192n60 Ailao people: Baijie Amei legend and, 85, 95; description of, 24, 29; Meng descent from, 28–29, 190n34; Nanzhao descent from, 28–29, 31. See also Guanyin ajaya. See Acuoye Guanyin Alidimu, 158, 163–164, 213n26. See also Hārītī Amoghavajra (Chn. Bukong), 46–47, 65, 79, 195n109, 195n122 Ānanda, 48, 60, 65 A’nan Furen (Lady A’nan), 118–121, 161, 210– 211n38, 213n26 Anderson, James, 205n3 asheli (ācāryas), 47, 197n126 Aśoka: in origin of Bai people, 87, 89, 205n13; unrestricted offerings and, 65, 71 associative qualities, 52–53, 54 Atwill, David, 109 Avalokiteśvara. See Guanyin Ayuan, 101, 102 azhali ritual masters, 150–151, 157–158, 161, 163, 214–215n57 azuoli (ācāryas), 47, 197n126 Baifo jing, 158 Baiguo yinyou, 103–104, 209n80 Bai gu tongji (Comprehensive record of Bai history): on “Bai” ethnonym origin, 93; Baijie Amei legend in, 89–91; Bai kingdom and, 206n25, 206n33; in “Bo script,” 206n36; Cishan legend and, 117, 210n36; Dian zaiji and, 206n36, 209n77; divinely authorized

regimes in, 89; Guanyin manifestations in, 209n82; translation into Chinese, 100–101, 104 Bai identity: Baijie the benzhu and, 137–138, 144–148, 149–154, 166–168; Cishan legend and, 123–124, 133–134, 147; ethnonym “Bai,” 13–14, 22, 92–93, 132, 143–144, 192–193n70; ethnotourism and, 149–150; gendered symbolism of, 84, 170; under Ming rule, 22, 84, 88–89, 92; minzu discourse and, 22, 137–138, 141–145, 161; origin of, 86–87, 206n25, 206n33; under Qing rule, 22, 84, 110–112, 140, 170; sources for, 17–19, 86–87, 139, 172–173, 205n11; strategic variations in, 171–172; village identity and, 170; Yang family of Xizhou and, 93. See also ethnicity of Dali people Baijie: as Alidimu, 158, 163–164, 166; Bai ethnicity (minzu) and, 20, 138–139, 140–144, 149, 161–162, 166–167; as both ethnic and female ideal, 167–168; Chineseness and, 3, 7, 82, 137–138, 145, 167–168; Cultural Revolution and, 148; ethnotourism and, 149–150; as fertility goddess, 163; as frontier goddess, 9–12, 15, 172; gendered characteristics, 138–139, 167–168; gendered local identities and, 4–5, 79, 138, 167, 185n12; as local and universal figure, 7–9, 139, 173, 185n13; origin of name, 143; as promiscuous, 173; transformations of, 2–3, 169; in universalizing discourses, 11–12. See also Baijie Amei; Baijie Furen; Baijie Shengfei; Baijie the benzhu; Fude Longnü Baijie Amei (Little White Sister), 83–105; authority of kings and, 84–85, 93–94, 96, 100; Baijie Furen and, 123, 135; Baijie Shengfei and, 84–85, 97–100; Bai kingdom and, 92,

236 I N D E X

94, 96–97, 104, 105, 169; birth of, 18–19, 83–85, 101–102; birth of Duan Siping, 89–92, 96–97, 101–104, 163; Chinese standards and, 18–19, 95, 170; in contemporary Dali region, 137, 163; disappearance in the sixteenth century, 100–104, 135; dragon/serpent imagery and, 83, 85, 90, 94–97, 105, 205n2; earliest record of, 89–90; ethnicity of Dali people and, 86–87, 99–100, 105, 142–143; as fertility goddess, 163; gendered symbolism of, 94, 100, 108, 170; as Holy Mother, 99; image of, 99f; as local figure, 95, 104–105; as mother of Duan Siping, 83–85, 94–97, 99, 103, 163, 208n55; name origin, 98–100; Nanzhao kingdom and, 83, 90–92, 101; Shayi legend and, 94–96, 101–102, 105; White Emperor Heavenly Kings and, 95, 208n54; in Yang family records, 89–94; as Yici Shengmu, 163 Baijie Furen (Lady of Cypress Chastity), 107–135; A’nan legend and, 118–121, 123; Baijie Amei and, 123; chastity cult and, 19, 107, 112–115; Cishan legends, 108, 116–118, 121–122; Cishan name shift to Baijie, 122–124; Confucian values and, 107–108, 124, 134, 151; in contemporary Dali, 135, 137, 160–161; ethnicity of Dali people and, 123–124, 133–134; gendered symbolism of, 122, 124–129, 125f, 134, 146–147; image of, 125f; local identity of, 107–109, 214n55; Meng Jiangnü legend and, 120–121; selfsacrifice for the sake of the people, 134, 145, 151, 185n1; shrines and temples, 124–129, 125f; sources for legend of, 108–109; wifely virtue of, 108. See also Cishan (Kindness); widow martyrs Baijie Shengfei (Holy Consort White Sister), 51–82; appearance of, 18, 72, 74, 157–158; Baijie Amei and, 84–85, 97–100; Changheng and, 73, 74, 77; as chaste and pure, 171; Cishan legend and, 123; as consort of Mahākāla, 18, 53–54, 72–73, 81; in contemporary Dali, 1, 137, 157–160; Dahei tianshen daochang yi on, 18, 53–54, 72–73, 81, 171; in the Dali pantheon, 52–53; as dharma guardian, 69, 77, 81–82; dragon imagery of, 18, 64, 74–76, 82, 97–98, 157; in Fanxiang juan, 51; first reference to, 2; in food-distribution rituals, 64–65, 67–72; Fude Longnü and, 51, 55, 72, 74–75; gendered symbolism of, 18, 53–54, 72, 78, 81, 108; in Guangshi wuzhe daocheng yi, 68–69; Hārītī and, 69–70, 72, 82, 97–98,

157–158; as Holy Consort White Sister, 51, 68, 74–78, 98–99, 123, 158–159; Indian and Chinese elements of, 81, 169; as local power, 7; as Mahāśriye, 74, 76, 203n73; as Maitreya incarnation, 74, 76–77; meaning of name, 53, 70–71; as mother of Duan Siping, 83; origins of, 98; politico-religious identity and, 51, 54, 72, 109; as rain deity, 97–98, 128, 170; as regional figure converted to Buddhism, 75–76, 82; as Sāgara’s daughter, 61, 76; as Śrī Lakṣmī, 76, 77; various identities of, 54, 81–82 Baijie Shengfei Longwang hemiao beiji, 157 “Baijie Shengfei: The Eternal Pride of Bai Women,” 152 Baijie Shengfei (opera), 152 Baijie the benzhu, 137–168; Bai identity and, 137–138, 144–148, 149–154, 166–168; Baijie networks, 160; contemporary iconography, 159, 159f; demographics of worship, 154, 155, 160, 163, 165, 215n63; elites as source of writings on, 172–173, 185n2; field research methods, 154–156; gendered symbolism of, 148, 167–168, 170, 173; historical sources for, 139–140, 172–173; lack of religious and ethnic discourse, 165–166, 170; local identity of, 154, 158–160, 162–164, 214n55; location of field research, 156–157, 156m, 162; Lotus Pond Societies, 154–155, 158; as maternal figure, 173; minzu discourse and, 137–139; private and public representations of, 149– 154, 167; as promiscuous, 173; recent artistic works on, 152–153; in the Republican era and early PRC, 146–148; temples, 144–146, 148, 152–155, 157–161, 163–164; in village religion, 154–162, 159f; as widow martyr, 150–152, 160–164, 166–167 Bai kingdom: Aśoka and, 89, 92, 133; Bai ethnicity and, 92–93; in the Bai gu tongji, 206n25, 206n33; Baijie Amei legend and, 92, 94, 96–97, 104, 105, 169; Dali kingdom as continuation of, 96–97, 111; Guanyin and, 103; as Ming invention, 192n69; in Yuan records, 86–87, 89 Bai script, 89, 91, 93, 206n23 Baptandier, Brigitte, 5 barbarism. See civilization–barbarism binary Barlow, Tani, 6, 137, 141 Barthes, Roland, 17 benzhu, 137, 144–148, 167–168. See also Baijie the benzhu; benzhu worship

I N D E X 237

benzhu worship: Bai identity and, 144–148, 161–162, 166–168, 170; Chineseness and, 137–138, 145, 167–168; Communist Party and, 165–166; in the early PRC, 146–148; gendered division of labor in, 165; historical sources for, 139–140, 172–173; interviews in Jianchuan and Heqing, 155–162; lack of religious or ethnic discourse in, 165–167; Lotus Pond Societies in, 158, 164–165; meaning of term, 137; in the Nanzhao kingdom, 151; new temples for, 152–153; private versus public representations of, 167; in the Republican period, 144–146, 148; Weiguo shengmu in, 161. See also Baijie the benzhu Berger, Patricia, 110 Big Black. See Mahākāla bje la kak (Piluoge), 26–27, 118, 121–122, 130, 152–153 Bo people, 92, 111, 132, 206n35 Boretz, Avron, 165 Bossler, Beverly, 112 Bridge Town, 161. See also Heqing County Brubaker, Rogers, 14–15, 93 buddhahood: Baijie Shengfei and, 18, 54, 76–77, 81; in esoteric Buddhism, 46; masculinity of, 80; Sāgara’s daughter and, 61, 74, 77; in women, 76–77, 81 Buddhism. See Dali Buddhism Buddhist art: from the esoteric tradition, 47; at Shibao shan, 32; statues, 62, 159f; stone carvings, 43, 195n104. See also Fanxiang juan Bukong (Amoghavajra), 46–47, 65, 79, 195n109, 195n122 Burma: Baijie Amei legend similarity in, 18, 102; Nanzhao headgear and, 190n35; proximity of, 3m, 4m; Pyu kingdom, 15, 26 Butler, Judith, 53, 185n9 Bynum, Caroline Walker, 5 cakravartins, 34, 43, 87, 89, 195n103 Candragupta (Indian monk), 48–49 Carlitz, Katherine, 113, 173 Changheng, 73, 74, 77 Chan lineage, in Dali Buddhism, 45–46, 48–50, 49f Chao, Emily, 151 Chapin, Helen, 21, 191–192n60, 199n10 chastity cult: in Bai identity, 123–124, 147, 164–167; “cypress chastity,” 122–123, 130; elite male writings on, 172–173; in ethnic identity, 19–20, 126–127, 134, 138–139, 154,

167–168; in Ming and Qing civilizing projects, 10–11, 107–109, 112–115, 124–129, 145–146; as political allegiance, 134, 145, 151; in the Republican period, 145, 147; shaming men, 213n27; shrines and temples, 124–129, 125f; in the Song and Yuan, 112–113; StarReturning Festival and, 117–122 Chastity Shrine (Dayou Village), 124 Chen Hongmou, 110, 115 Chen Zhaotang, 130 Chinese characters, 175–182 Chinese cosmology, in Dali kingdom, 44–45, 49 Chineseness: Baijie Shengfei and, 82; benzhu Baijie and, 137–138, 145, 167–168; changing concept of, 9; chastity cult, 108–109, 112–115, 172; civilization–barbarism binary and, 10, 51, 54, 59, 110, 190n35; Dali elites and, 16; ethnicity and, 11, 30, 141, 145, 172; female sexuality and, 3, 9, 11, 59, 170; Fude Longnü and, 54, 59; localization and, 7–9, 10–11; of Manchu rulers, 114; primitivity–socialism spectrum and, 143–144; Sinitic script and, 15, 16, 43–44, 188n5. See also civilization– barbarism binary Chongsheng si, 32 Christianity, 144, 213n10 Chushi Yang gong tongshi Li shi shouzang, 91–92 Cishan (Kindness): A’nan Furen legend and, 118–121, 123; Baijie Shengfei and, 123; Burning Pine Resin Tower legend, 116–118, 123; death by drowning legend, 121–122; earliest legend of, 116; ethnicity of Dali people and, 123–124, 133–134, 147; as exemplar, 122, 124–127; gendered symbolism of, 122, 124– 129, 125f, 134, 146–147; as goddess, 127–128; literary works on, 129–132, 153; local support of, 128–132; Meng Jiangnü legend and, 120– 121; name shift to Baijie, 122–124; as Ningbei fei, 118, 210n37; Qu Yuan and, 122; as rain deity, 128; shrines and temples for, 124–129, 125f, 212n65; Star-Returning Festival and, 119–122; as symbol of Dali virtues, 133–134; tributes to, 126–127. See also Baijie Furen Cishan fei miao ji, 126 City of Virtue’s Source, 1, 116–117, 125f, 152–153, 156m, 185n1 civilization–barbarism binary: Ailao people in, 24; Baijie in, 3, 82, 167–168, 170; Baijie and Mahākāla in, 54, 62–64, 82; Baijie/

238 I N D E X

Cishan widow martyr role and, 6, 11–12, 107–108, 122–130, 133–135; Bai people in, 92–93, 111–112, 115, 123–124, 131–132, 133–135; black and white barbarians in, 27–28, 40, 150–151, 189n24; chastity cult and, 112–115, 126–127, 166–168; Chineseness and, 10, 51, 54, 59, 110, 190n35; Dali Buddhism in, 36, 51–52; Dali writings and, 130, 133–134; Dian kingdom in, 24; ethnicity and, 11, 23; evolutionary language in, 142, 143–144, 213n12; female sexuality in, 11, 28, 54, 59, 82, 133–134; language and, 133; masculinity in, 62–64, 82; meaning of barbarism, 186n23; Miao people in, 10, 211n60; Ming civilizing projects, 88–89, 127; Nanzhao self-representation in, 28–31, 41, 191n50; natural world and, 127, 134; primitivity–socialism spectrum, 143–144; raw meat eating in, 131–132; religion in, 11, 144; sex tourism and, 153–154; Star-Returning Festival and, 131–132, 212n71; universalizing versus localizing forces and, 7–8, 9–10; women’s dress and, 142 Cleary, Thomas, 61, 199n17 Cohen, Richard, 7 Confucian values: Baijie and, 9, 151; Baijie Furen and, 107–108, 134, 151; benzhu worship and, 144, 151; chastity cult and, 112–114; Cishan and, 127, 132, 134; Dali elites and, 41; Duan leaders and, 86; Ming dynasty and, 88, 107, 112; Nanzhao population and, 28, 35; Qing dynasty and, 110 “Cypress Boat” (bai zhou), 122–123, 126, 130 Cypress Chastity Baijie Shrine, 123 Dahei tianshen, 78. See also Mahākāla Dahei tianshen daochang yi (Bodhimaṇḍa Ritual of the God Mahākāla): Baijie Shengfei as chaste, 171; Baijie Shengfei as consort of Mahākāla, 18, 53–54, 72–73, 81; Baijie Shengfei names in, 74–78, 81–82, 171, 202–203n72, 203nn73–82; Changheng in, 74, 77, 203n76; in contemporary worship, 157–158; date of, 65; Fude Longnü in, 61, 74–75, 81–82, 203n83; language and source, 64, 73–74; Mahākāla in, 53–54, 56, 69, 72–73, 79–81; structure of, 72–73 Dali Baizu Zizhizhou lishi wenwu diaocha ziliao, 146 Dali Buddhism: ācāryas in, 47, 197n126; benzhu worship, 146–148, 149–150; Chan lineage, 45–46, 48–50, 49f; Guanyin in

(See Guanyin); as Indian, 34–36, 45–50, 52, 81–82, 87; introduction of, 31–32; local deities and universalizing forces in, 7; map of Buddhist sites, 42m; Nanzhao Buddhism, 31–36, 45–46, 75, 82; origin of, 21–22; pre-Nanzhao religion and, 31; ruling class in shaping, 22; Song Buddhism and, 50, 198n137; sources for study of, 41–45, 194n99; texts, 43–44, 195nn108–110, 196n111, 196n113. See also Buddhist art; esoteric Buddhist tradition; Fanxiang juan; Nanzhao tuzhuan Dali ethnicity. See ethnicity of Dali people Dali fuzhi, 116–117, 124–125, 127, 210n36, 211n58 Dali gudai wenhua shi, 142–143 Dali kingdom: as Bai kingdom continuation, 96–97, 111; Chan lineage, 45–46, 48–50, 49f; Chinese state presence in, 15–16; Daoism in, 44–45, 196n119; Duan Siping as founder of, 33, 36–37, 83, 169, 193nn80–84; elites as source of writings, 172–173, 185n2; establishment of, 37; ethnicity in, 40–41; fall of, 84; foreign relations of, 39–40, 193n89, 194n91, 194n95; historical sources for, 17, 22–23, 36–37, 44–45; location and divisions of, 21, 38, 39m; Mongol conquest and, 15–16, 85–87, 109, 115, 205n3, 205n7; non-Buddhist religions in, 44–45, 49, 196n119; in Qing resistance, 110; rulers of, 193n80, 193n86. See also Baijie Shengfei; Dali Buddhism Dali region: chastity cult in, 115, 124, 126–127, 134; contemporary Baijie worship in, 162–168; Du Wenxiu, sultanate of, 13, 16, 109–110; elites as source of writings, 172–173, 185n2; ethnic discourse in the Qing, 110–112; ethnotourism in, 149–150; language in, 13, 16; location of, 4m, 12, 156m, 193n82; perceived eclecticism of, 14; political allegiance to, 134; raw meat eating in, 131–132; shortlived kingdoms in, 37; women as tourist commodity, 153–154; in Zomia, 3, 12–15, 86, 171. See also Dali kingdom; Nanzhao kingdom; Yunnan; Zomia Dali xianzhi gao, 142, 145–146, 147 Daly, Mary, 5 Daoism: in benzhu temple events, 163, 215n63; in the Dali kingdom, 44–45, 196n119; in Nanzhao, 31, 191n52 Daozhen, 73 Davidson, Ronald, 46 Davies, H. R., 13, 141

I N D E X 239

Dean, Kenneth, 8–9 Deer Town, 158–160, 159f, 173. See also Heqing County Dehua bei, 30, 189n20, 190n44 Dengchuan zhouzhi, 111–112, 126–127 Derrida, Jacques, 187n45 Deyuancheng. See City of Virtue’s Source dharma guardians: Baijie Shengfei as, 69, 77, 81–82; Chinese deities as, 69; in Dali Buddhist art, 42–43; in Fanxiang juan, 55–57, 60, 64, 69, 198n4; Hārītī as, 60, 70; Mahākāla and Fude Longnü as, 55–57, 56f, 60, 69, 70; Śrī Lakṣmī as, 60–61, 69–70, 76, 77 Dian kao, 103, 122, 188–189n15, 209n79 Dian kingdom, 24, 188n9, 205n13 Dian zaiji, 103, 209n77 Di clan, 142, 188–189n15, 213n15 di Cosmo, Nicola, 186n23 deities, 4–12. See also names of individual deities; religion Divine Mother of Good Fortune, 68. See also Fude Longnü dongba religion, 151 Dongshan Laoye, 160 Double-Five Festival, 122 Dragon God of Good Fortune (Fude Longshen), 59, 199n11 Dragon God Shrine (Longshen ci), 97, 208n57 Dragon Maiden of Good Fortune. See Fude Longnü dragon/serpent imagery: in Ailao ancestry, 24; Baijie Amei and, 83, 85, 90, 94–96, 105, 205n2; Baijie Shengfei and, 18, 64, 74–76, 82, 97–98, 157; Baijie the benzhu and, 159; in Chinese legends, 94–95; Cishan and, 122, 124; divine authority in, 100, 102, 105; dragon kings, 57–58, 67–69, 76, 97, 199n18; dragon maidens, 7, 60–61, 76, 199n16, 199n20; dragon mothers, 85, 87, 89, 94, 96–97, 205n2; in Fanxiang juan, 60–61, 199n16, 199n20; female dragons, 94; as feminine locality, 7; Fude Longnü and, 57–64, 67, 74–76, 199n17; Hārītī and, 159; as imperial power symbol, 94; in Nanzhao tuzhuan, 60–61, 64; semiotics in, 94–95, 100, 102; Shayi and, 87, 89, 95; surname of sons in, 96; women as conduits between dragons and great men, 85, 90–91, 94–95, 105, 207n45 Duan clan, 37, 90–91, 193n80, 194n92, 213n14 Duan Heyu, 38

Duan Siping: Baijie as mother of, 8, 83–85, 96, 99, 103, 163; birth of, 83, 90–91, 101, 103–104, 142–143; founding of Dali kingdom, 33, 36–37, 83, 169, 193nn80–84; paternity of, 96 Duan Xingzhi, 38, 85–86 Duan Xinju Yi, 69–70 Duan Zhixing, 42 Duara, Prasenjit, 8, 11, 144 Du Wenxiu, sultanate of, 13, 16, 109–110 E’ertai (Ortai), 110, 115 Eighteen Altar Gods, 157, 214–215n57 Elephant Town, 161. See also Heqing County Elliott, Mark C., 114 Eryuan County, 156m, 162–167 esoteric Buddhist tradition: in Dali, 46–48, 195n108; Indian and Chinese elements of, 34, 44, 46–48; teachings, 201n44, 201nn46– 48; use of “esoteric,” 192n64, 196n122 ethnicity: affirmative action and, 150; Baijie and, 140–144; benzhu worship and, 144–148, 161–162, 166–167, 170; ethnotourism and, 149–150; female sexuality and, 11, 28, 54, 59, 62–64, 115; gender in depiction of minorities, 153–154, 166–168, 170–171; Manchu rulers and Confucian values, 114; minzu and, 22, 137–138, 141, 143–145, 161; in the Republican period, 140–141; sex tourism and, 153–154; in Yuan and Ming periods, 110–112, 170. See also civilization–barbarism binary; ethnicity of Dali people ethnicity of Dali people: “Bai” as ethnic label, 13–14, 86–87, 92–94, 132–133, 140–144, 205n11; Baijie and, 11, 138–139, 140–144, 151, 161–162, 170–171; Baijie Amei and, 86–87, 99–100, 105, 142–143; black and white Nanzhao/Dali barbarians, 27–29, 40, 150– 151, 189n24; Bo people, 92, 111, 132; Cishan/ Baijie Furen and, 123–124, 133–134, 147; in the Dali kingdom, 40–41; descent from the Di branch, 142; in the early PRC, 144–148; elite self-representation, 23, 30–31, 35, 41, 87, 133; ethnic religion, 11; ethnotourism and, 149–150; evolutionary language in describing, 142, 143–144, 213n12; female sexuality and, 11, 28, 54, 59, 62–64; Feng people, 35; fluidity of identification, 14–16, 111; gender and, 132–135; as Han and non-Han, 111–112, 133; in Ming and Qing periods, 84, 88–89, 109, 110–112, 114, 133; Minjia people, 13, 111, 132–133, 143; minzu and, 22, 137–138,

240 I N D E X

141, 143–145, 161; in Nanzhao kingdom, 23, 26–31, 35, 40, 52, 191n50; in Qing ethnic discourse, 15, 22, 84, 110–112, 140, 170; in the Republican period, 141–143; Song representations of, 40–41; studies of, 14–15; as Thai, 14, 186–187n37; village identity and, 170; in Yuan records, 86–87. See also Bai identity; civilization–barbarism binary ethnotourism, 149–150 faithful widow cult, 124–125, 127. See also widow martyrs Fajie yuanliu tu, 199n17 Fan Chengda, 40 Fang Guoyu, 28, 143, 192n69 Fanxiang juan (Roll of Buddhist Images): Chan lineage in, 48–50, 49f; description of, 42–43, 195nn101–103, 197–198n135; dharma guardians in, 55–57, 60, 64, 69, 198n4; dragon maidens in, 60–61, 199n16, 199n20; Fude Longnü in, 55–59, 56f, 61–64, 71, 199n10, 199n17; Mahākāla in, 62–64, 71, 79, 80f; nāgas in, 60–61, 199nn17–18; on Nanzhao Buddhism in Dali kingdom, 45, 82; Qing reproduction of, 110; rituals of unrestricted offerings and, 64; studies of, 194n100 Fan Yitian, 142, 213n15 Faure, Bernard, 7, 16, 61, 187n45 Fazang si temple, 43–44, 64–65, 71, 79, 196nn111–112, 200n36 female sexuality: Baijie Amei legend and, 95–96; in barbarian regions, 11, 28, 54, 59, 62–64, 115; Chineseness and, 3, 9, 11, 59, 170. See also chastity cult; widow martyrs feminine hinge, 138–139, 154 femininity: in Baijie Shengfei, 53–54, 72; in Chinese standards, 3, 72; in contemporary Bai culture, 147; Cultural Revolution and, 148; in Śrī Lakṣmī and Hārītī, 70; subordination in, 5. See also chastity cult; female sexuality feng, meaning of, 34–35, 192n69 Feng People, 34–35, 192–193n70 Feng Su, 122, 126–128, 134, 209n78 filial piety, 41, 112, 190n44, 211n58 Fitzgerald, C. P., 14, 141, 144–145 Five Golden Flowers (Wuduo jinhua) (film), 147–148 Fomen sanfusheng gao, 157, 161, 215n58 food-distribution rituals. See rituals of unrestricted offerings

footbinding, 141 Foucault, Michel, 53, 185n9 Freedman, Maurice, 8 Fude Longnü (Dragon Maiden of Good Fortune): ambiguity of, 81–82; appearance of, 55–57, 56f, 59, 75; as Baijie Shengfei, 51, 72, 74–75; in benzhu worship, 159; as defender of the Dali kingdom, 57; as dharma guardian, 55–57, 56f, 60, 70; as dragon maiden, 57–58, 60–61, 75, 199n17; in Fanxiang juan, 55–64, 199n10, 199n17; in food-distribution rituals, 64, 67–69; gendered symbolism of, 62–64; hybrid (Chinese and Indian) iconography of, 57–59, 63, 200n33; Mahākāla and, 55–57, 56f, 62–64, 70, 79, 199n17; meaning of name, 53, 59–61; politico-religious identity of ruling class and, 51, 59; as Sāgara’s daughter, 61, 74–75; as spirit of Dian Lake, 62; Śrī Lakṣmī and, 59, 60–61, 71, 76 Fude Longshen (Dragon God of Good Fortune), 59, 199n11 Fude Shenmu (Divine Mother of Good Fortune), 68. See also Fude Longnü Gandhāra kingdom, 133, 171 Gao Shengtai, 38 Geluofeng (Nanzhao king), 26–27, 29–30, 90–91, 116 gender: Baijie as ethnic identity and female ideal symbol, 167–168; barbarian women and men, 54, 59, 62–64, 114–115, 133–134; chastity and civilization, 166–167; in civilization–barbarism binary, 11, 28, 54, 59, 82, 133–134; cultural context of, 53, 185n9; in depiction of minorities, 153–154, 166–168, 170– 171; feminine hinge, 138–139, 154; filial piety, 112; “gender inversion” in Taiwan, 133–134; in Mahākāla–Fude Longnü pairing, 62–64, 70, 72; in modernity and the Chinese nation, 141; Nanzhao women as promiscuous, 28, 189n31; as only part of identity, 6, 11; pairing of masculine and feminine, 9, 53–54; in religious rituals, 164–165; “woman” as concept, 6, 137, 141, 148, 172; writings from male elites, 113, 172–173. See also civilization–barbarism binary; female sexuality; femininity; gendered symbolism; masculinity gendered deities. See goddesses gendered symbolism: in Bai identity, 84, 148– 149, 170; of Baijie Amei, 94, 100, 108, 170; of

I N D E X 241

Baijie Furen/Cishan, 122, 124–129, 125f, 134, 146–147; of Baijie Shengfei, 18, 53–54, 72, 78, 81, 108; of Baijie the benzhu, 148, 170, 173; in civilization–barbarism binary, 11, 20, 28, 54, 59, 62–64, 82; in ethnic discourse, 138–139, 142; in footbinding, 141; of Fude Longnü and Mahākāla, 62–64; of goddesses, 5–6; of locality and universalism, 7–12, 138; of Mahākāla, 62–64, 78–81, 80f; of Meng Jiangnü, 121; in modernity discourse, 138, 141; of political loyalty, 134. See also civilization–barbarism binary Giersch, C. Patterson, 10 Gladney, Dru, 153 goddesses: barbarism versus Chineseness and, 9–12; embodying women’s subordination, 5; local versus universal, 7–9, 185n13; men’s worship of, 6. See also names of individual goddesses gods of the ten directions, 67–69, 72 Gong Xirui, 131 Great Feng People, 34–35, 192–193n70 Green Town, 164–165. See also Eryuan County Grotto Scripture Society, 163 Guandi, 10 Guangshi wuzhe daochang yi (Bodhimaṇḍa ritual of unrestricted, widespread offerings), 18, 64–72, 75, 201n48 Guanyin: in Baiguo yinyou, 103–104, 209n82; Baijie and, 160, 164; in benzhu worship, 160, 164; in the Dali kingdom, 45–46, 82; in Fanxiang juan, 48–50, 57, 197–198n135, 198n9; femininity and, 5; as Indian monk, 32–33, 35–36, 45–46, 48–50, 192n62; introducing Buddhism to Yunnan, 32–36, 48–49, 60–61, 192n62, 193n72; local identities of, 7; Longshun and, 192n65; in Nanzhao tuzhuan, 32–36, 45–46, 60–61, 192n62, 192n65, 196n120; Southeast Asian sources for iconography of, 191–192n60. See also Acuoye Guanyin Guy, John, 191–192n60 Hai Chang, 98 Han dynasty, in Yunnan, 23–24 Han Mingdi (emperor), 188n6 Han Wudi (emperor), 15, 86, 188nn6–7 Hārītī (Helidi, Guizimu, Mother of Demons): A’nan and, 213n26; Baijie Shengfei and, 72, 82, 97–98, 157–158; in contemporary Dali, 157–160; as deva, 60; at Dragon God Shrine

(Longshen ci), 97–98; as fertility goddess, 61, 72, 158; in food-distribution rituals, 67–70; rain-making by, 135 Harrell, Stevan, 10, 138 Heqing County, 156–162, 156m, 159f, 164, 173 Herman, John, 13 Heruka, 56 Heze Shenhui, 48, 197n133 Holy Consort of White Purity (Baijie Shengfei) (play), 152 Holy Consort White Sister, 51, 68, 74–78, 123, 158–159. See also Baijie Shengfei Hou Chong, 22, 31, 41, 52, 59–60, 65, 75, 79, 88–89, 91, 93, 151–152, 191–192n60, 192n69, 195n101, 195n110, 196n111, 201n46 Howard, Angela, 21, 191–192n60, 195n106 Hsu, Frances L. K., 14, 141–142, 145 Huguo sinan chao, 43–44, 46–47, 195n109 Indra Kāla, 78 “internal orientalism,” 138–139, 141, 154 Islam, Dali region and, 13, 16, 109–110 Iyanaga Nobumi, 70, 198n3 Jambhala, 78–79 Jāṅgulī, 57, 59, 198n9 Jianchuan County, 32, 75, 156–162, 156m, 191n56 Jiang Bin, 101–102 Jia Yi, 94 Ji gu Dian shuo ji (Collected records of ancient Dian): on Baijie Furen, 108; benzhu worship and, 151; on Cishan’s fidelity, 116; on Dali Buddhism, 44–45, 87; on Dali kingdom establishment, 37; on Mahākāla, 62; on origin of “Bai,” 86–87, 92 Jingzhong Shenhui, 48 Jiulong ancestry, 93, 105, 207nn38–39, 207n41 Judge, Joan, 213n27 kak la bjuwngH (Geluofeng), 26, 27, 29–30, 90–91, 116 Kāla of Joy, 79, 204n100 Kāla of the Golden Bowl, 79, 80f Kāla of the Graveyard, 79 Kāla of the Sun and Moon, 78 Kāla of the Treasure Store, 78–79 Kang, Xiaofei, 11 Katz, Paul, 8 Khri ’Dus-srong, 27 Kingdom of Pacifying the South (Pingnan guo), 109

242 I N D E X

Kleeman, Terry, 191n52, 215n63 KMT (Nationalist) government (China), 144 Ko, Dorothy, 141 Kubera, 62, 79 Lady by the Water (Linshui furen), 5 Lady of Cypress Chastity. See Baijie Furen Lake Touring Festival, 164–166 Lee Yü-min, 21, 55, 63, 79, 191n60, 194n100, 195n106, 197–198n135, 198n3, 198n9, 200nn29–30 Lian Ruizhi, 96, 152, 199n16, 207n41, 208n55 Liang Jianfang, 29 Liang Yongjia, 187, 207n45 Liebenthal, Walter, 44, 196nn113–114 Li Jing, 132 Li Lin-ts’an, 21 ling, localizing, 8–9 Linghui si, 83, 91–92, 97, 99–100, 99f, 163 Little White Sister. See Baijie Amei Litzinger, Ralph, 138 Liu, Lydia, 186n23 Liu Bang, 94 Li Yifu, 146–147, 151, 214n34 Li Yuanyang, 117, 210n35 Longmeng (Nāgārjuna), 202–203n72 Longshun (Nanzhao king), 33–34, 37–38, 192n65, 194n92, 196n120 Lotus Division, 34 Lotus Pond Societies, 154–155, 158, 160–161, 163–167 Luosheng (Nanzhao king), 25–26, 33 Luo Zhao, 193n74 Lutz, Albert, 197 Magadha (Candragupta), 75 Mahākāla: appearance of, 55–57, 56f, 62–63, 72, 200nn29–30; Baijie Shengfei as consort of, 18, 53–54, 72–73, 81; as Dahei tianshen, 78; in the Dahei tianshen daochang yi, 56, 69, 72–73, 79–81; as defender of the Dali kingdom, 57; as dharma guardian, 55–57, 56f, 60, 69, 70; forms of, 56, 73; Fude Longnü and, 55–57, 56f, 62–64, 70, 79, 199n17; gendered symbolism of, 62–64, 78–81, 80f; of the Graveyard, 79; Hārītī and, 70; Indian identity of, 63; as Indra Kāla, 78; as jolly wealth god, 62; as Kāla of Joy, 79, 204n100, 204n102; as Kāla of the Golden Bowl, 79, 80f; as Kāla of the Graveyard, 79; as Kāla of the Sun and Moon, 78; as Kāla of the

Treasure Store, 78–79; masculinity of, 53– 54, 62–64, 72, 78–82, 80f; politico-religious identity of, 72; in rituals of unrestricted offerings, 64, 67–72; semiotics of the cult of, 63–64; seven forms of, 78–81, 204n98, 204n100; in sexual union, 77, 204n91; Śrī Lakṣmī and, 79; as Vairocana manifestation, 73, 77, 78–80 Mahāśriye, 74, 76, 203n73 Maheśvara, 56, 78–79 Maitreya, 32, 74, 76–77, 109, 133, 203nn77–78 Mama Societies (Lotus Pond Societies), 154– 155, 158, 160–161, 163–167 Man shu, 27–28 Maoting kehua, 61 Marx, Karl, 143 masculinity: as barbaric, 62–64, 186n29; buddhahood and, 77; dragon symbolism and, 94; as Han Chinese, 153; of Mahākāla, 53–54, 62–64, 72, 78–82, 80f; modernity and, 20, 141; as normative, 53; as privileged, 72; universality and, 7, 9 Matsumoto, Moritaka, 58, 194n100, 198–199n135 Mazu, 6, 8, 71, 172 McBride, Richard D., II, 192n64 Meng clan, 28–29, 35, 40, 190n34, 193n77 Meng Jiangnü, 120–121, 123, 135 Mengshe, 24, 27. See also Nanzhao kingdom Meng Xinongle, 87. See also Xinuluo Miao people, 10, 95, 154, 189n28, 211n60 Mile wei nüshen jing, 76 Ming dynasty: Baijie Amei and, 6, 8, 103–105; Baijie as moral exemplar, 6, 8; Baijie Furen/ Cishan and, 108–109, 115–121; chastity cult in, 107–108, 112–115, 124–129; civilizing projects in border regions, 88–89, 108, 109–115; conquest of Yunnan, 109; in Dali, 88–89; ethnicity discourse in, 15, 22, 84, 88–89, 92 mingwang (vidyā-rājas), 47, 195n106, 197n132, 202n64 Minjia (Min-chia) people, 13, 111, 131–133, 141–145, 171–172, 213n15; as Minjiazi, 111 minzu, 22, 137–138, 141, 143–145, 161. See also ethnicity; ethnicity of Dali people Mongol conquest of Dali, 2, 15–16, 85–87, 109, 115, 205n3 Mullaney, Thomas, 143 mythomoteur, 92, 93 Mywa La-kag (Piluoge), 26–27, 118, 121–122, 130, 152–153

I N D E X 243

nāgī/nāga: Baijie Shengfei and, 18, 76–77; enlightenment potential of, 54, 61, 77; Fude Longnü and, 57–59, 60–61, 62, 64, 199nn17– 18; images of, 18, 58, 198n7; as rain deity, 97, 198n7. See also dragon/serpent imagery Nanzhao kingdom, 24–36; Ailao descent, 28– 29; Baijie Amei and, 83, 90–92, 101; Baijie Furen and, 115–116; benzhu worship in, 151; Buddhism in, 31–36, 45–46, 75, 82; burial practices, 27; Burma and, 26, 102, 189n22; Chinese influence in, 15, 29–30, 35–36, 61, 172, 188n12, 190n42; Cishan legend, 116–118, 119, 123, 129–130; divine authorization of rulers of, 87, 89, 99, 101–102; elites as source of writings, 22, 172–173, 185n2; ethnicity in, 26–31, 35, 41, 142, 150; expansion of, 15, 26; fall of, 36, 37; foreign relations of, 24–26; historical sources for, 17, 22–23; India, as source of Buddhism in, 34–35, 44, 58, 61, 82, 133, 171; influence on Dali Buddhism, 36, 45–46, 50; location of, 21, 25m; Mahākāla and, 62–63; naming convention in, 29, 190nn36–37, 192n62; origin of, 87, 89, 123; pre-Nanzhao religion, 31; in Qing resistance, 110; Tang dynasty relations with, 24–26, 36, 188–189n15, 188n13; Tibet and, 15, 24, 26–27, 30, 172, 189n20; in Zomia, 12–13 Nanzhao tongji, 101, 118–119, 210–211n38 Nanzhao tuzhuan: on dragon maiden worship, 60–61, 64; esoteric Buddhism in, 192n64; ethnic identification in, 35, 190n34; Guanyin in, 33–36, 45–46, 60–61, 192n62, 192n65, 196n20; introduction of Buddhism, 32–34; Nanzhao rulers’ Buddhist authority, 34, 35, 36, 46, 82, 196n120; on pre-Nanzhao religion, 31; ruler’s attempt to distance themselves from Tang and Tibet, 193n74; story of, 32–33 Nanzhao yeshi, 36–37, 102–103, 109, 117, 210n37 Nanzhao yuanliu jiyao, 101–102 Nationalist (KMT) government (China), 144 Ningbei fei (Wei Yaping; Jinsha), 153 Notar, Beth, 14, 153–154, 166 octagonal wheel (yoga) altar, 66 Ortai (Chn. E’ertai), 110, 115 Orzech, Charles, 65–66, 201n47 Panthay Rebellion, 13, 109 paradigmatic associations: Baijie Amei and, 84–85, 91, 95; Baijie Shengfei and Dali pan-

theon, 52–54, 84–85; Cishan and, 118–119, 121; Fude Longnü and dragon maidens, 57; gender and, 53; Shayi and, 91; uses of, 16, 187n45 Peirce, Charles S., 187n45 Pelliot, Paul, 190n37 People’s Republic of China (PRC): affirmative action for minorities, 150; Baijie’s widow martyr role in, 6, 140, 147, 151; benzhu worship in, 146–150; Cultural Revolution, 148; current map of, 3m; ethnicity classification in, 14, 129, 143–144, 153; reform era, 149; religion classification, 144–145, 146, 150, 198n137; shifting attitudes toward ethnic difference, 148 Phoenix Town, 165 Piluoge, 26–27, 118, 121–122, 130, 152–153 Pine Resin Tower (Songming lou), 118, 123, 131 PRC. See People’s Republic of China Pyu kingdom, 15, 25m, 26, 34, 172, 209n80 Qiangna, 125, 211n58 Qianxun ta, 32, 42m, 43, 47, 196n119 Qing dynasty: Baijie Amei and, 83, 95, 103–105; Baijie as moral exemplar in, 6, 8; Baijie Furen/Cishan and, 108–109, 118–124; chastity cult in, 107–108, 112–115, 124–129, 145; Cishan legend in, 121–124; civilization–­ barbarism binary in, 11, 126–127, 130, 133– 135; conquest of Yunnan, 15–16, 109–110, 115; ethnic discourse in, 15, 22, 84, 110–112, 140, 170; religion in, 10, 13, 133, 144; state control in, 114–115 Quanfengyou (Nanzhao king), 32 Qu Yuan, 122, 123, 135 Raosanling, 215n64 religion: benzhu worship, 137, 144–148, 149–150, 165–166; Chinese ancestor worship, 213n10; Christianity, 144, 213; Communist Party and, 165–166; Cultural Revolution and, 148; Daoism, 31, 44–45, 163, 191n52, 196n119, 215n63; Islam, 13, 16, 109–110; pre-Nanzhao religion, 31; in reform era, 149; religion–­ superstition spectrum, 11, 144, 145, 146–147; in the Republican Era, 144–145; village temple classification, 144, 150. See also Dali Buddhism religion–superstition spectrum, 11, 144, 145, 146–147 Renwang jing, 43–44, 46–47, 57, 79, 195nn108–109

244 I N D E X

Republican Era (China), 140–148; Baijie in, 140–144; benzhu worship in, 144–147, 150; chastity symbolizing sacrifice for the nation, 145; ethnicity discourse in, 13, 141–143, 213n10; religion classification in, 144–145 rituals of unrestricted offerings: Baijie Shengfei and Mahākāla pairing in, 64, 67–72; in Dali Buddhism, 65–67; deities benefiting from, 18, 69–70, 201n58, 202n59; Fazang si ritual manuals, 64–65; language of texts, 66–67, 201nn46–48 River barbarians (he man), 29, 190n38 Rowe, William, 110 rushi, 35, 193n72 sādhana texts, 72–73 Sāgara, 58, 61, 74, 76 Sangren, Steven, 5 Sanskrit, 16, 43–44 Saussure, Ferdinand de, 16, 52, 187n45 Schafer, Edward, 60 Schein, Louisa, 138, 154 Scott, James C., 12–13, 14, 186–187n37 Scripture of the Dhāraṇī for Saving the Burning Mouth Hungry Ghost, 65–66 semiotics: in Baijie Amei legend, 84–85; in Baijie Furen legend, 108–109, 112, 116; Derrida on, 187n45; in dragon symbolism, 94–95, 100, 102; of femininity in Bai culture, 11, 153–154, 168, 171; of the Mahākāla cult, 63–64; usefulness of approach, 16–17, 52–53 serpent imagery. See dragon/serpent imagery sex tourism, 153–154 Shahar, Meir, 4 Shayi: Baijie Amei legend and, 94–96, 101–102, 105; descent from, 87, 91, 93, 143; legend, 85, 88–89, 101–102, 121, 205n13 sheng, universalizing, 8–9 Shengluopi (Nanzhao king), 62 Shibao shan, Dali kingdom images at, 32, 151, 191n56, 197n132 Shi Lianggong, 131 Shilong (Nanzhao king), 32–33, 190n36, 191n57, 194n92 Shi Tongkui, 133 Shizhong shan (Shibao shan), 32, 151, 191n56, 197n132 Sinitic script: in Dali kingdom manuscripts, 43–44; in Nanzhao tuzhuan, 32–33; to represent Bai language, 93, 206n33; in texts on

Mahākāla, 77, 79, 204n91; use by elites in Dali, 13, 15–16, 21–23; widespread use of, 188n5 Siu, Helen, 149 Smith, Anthony D., 92, 93, 191n50 Smoke Town, 160. See also Heqing County Song dynasty: Baijie Amei and, 99; Baijie Shengfei and, 18, 71; Chan lineage in Buddhism in, 50; descriptions of Dali people, 40–41; esoteric Buddhism in, 46–58, 66–67; Mahākāla and, 62–63, 78–81; medical manuals from, 45; relations with Dali kingdom, 15, 23, 36–37, 38–41; widow fidelity in, 112 Song shi, 40, 193n89, 194n92 Soper, Alexander, 62, 195n102, 198n9 SØrensen, Henrik, 47 Śrī devī, 61 Śrī Lakṣmī: as dharma guardian, 60–61, 69–70, 76–77; as Fude Longnü, 60, 71; Hārītī and, 70; Mahākāla and, 79; meaning of name, 59; Tenkawa Benzaiten and, 61 Star-Returning Festival (Torch Festival), 19, 117–122, 129, 131–132, 164–166, 212n71 Stevenson, Daniel, 66, 71 Sun Yat-sen, 140 Su Shi, 66 Sutton, Donald, 95 syncretic field, 8–9 syntagmatic associations: Aśoka and Shayi, 87; Baijie Amei and, 84–85; Baijie Shengfei and, 52–53, 54, 84–85; Cishan and A’nan Furen, 118–119; uses of, 16, 187n45 Taiwan, feminization of the South, 133–134 Taizu (Song emperor), 38 Tang dynasty: barbarians and eating habits, 131–132; Buddhism in Dali during, 32, 34, 43–44, 47, 196n122; Chineseness in, 171–172, 190n35; Cishan legend and, 118, 122, 125; dragon domestication in, 61; food distribution rituals in, 65–66, 71, 73; gendered barbarian identities in, 11, 51–52, 54, 62–64, 133–134; historical records from, 17–18, 22, 37, 40; Mahākāla in, 62–63, 79, 81; naming traditions in, 190n36, 191n57; Nanzhao kingdom and, 15, 24–30, 34, 36, 172, 189n24; Tibet and, 15 Teng, Emma Jinhua, 133 Tenkawa Benzaiten, 61 Tibet: Dali Buddhism and, 34–35, 43, 47–48,

I N D E X 245

195n106, 199n17; Mahākāla and, 62–63; map of, 3m; Nanzhao kingdom and, 15, 24, 26–27, 30, 172, 189n28 Torch Festival (Star-Returning Festival), 19, 117–122, 129, 131–132, 164–166, 212n71 Upananda, 58 Uṣṇīṣavijayā (Chn. Zunsheng fomu), 43, 47, 196n113 Vairocana, 66, 69, 73, 77–78, 201n44 Vaiśravaṇa, 56, 59–60, 78–79 vajradhātu maṇḍala, 47–48, 197n130 Vajravārāhī, 77 van Schendel, Willem, 12–13 vidyā-rājas (Chn. mingwang), 47, 195n106, 197n132, 202n64 Vietnam, interactions with Dali region, 3m, 15, 26, 172 village religion. See Baijie the benzhu; benzhu worship Vināyaka, 67–68 von Glahn, Richard, 13, 199n20 Wang, Eugene, 76–77 Wang Mingke, 14, 187n41 Wang Renqiu funerary stele, 31–32 Wang Sixun, 130 Wang Song, 123 Wang Yi, 119–120 Watson, James L., 6 Wealth Town, 159. See also Jianchuan County Wedemeyer, Christian, 17 Weiguo shengmu, 161 Wei Yaping, 153 Weller, Robert, 4 Wenchang, 8, 10 White, David Gordon, 46 White Emperor Heavenly Kings legend, 10, 95, 208n54 White Sister Auspicious and Subtle, 74, 76 White Sister Baijie Temple, 123 White Town, 161, 164. See also Heqing County widow fidelity, 112–115, 127. See also chastity cult widow martyrs: A’nan Furen legend, 118–119, 210–211n38, 213n26; Baijie Furen/Cishan legend, 1–2, 107, 115–118, 120–124, 185n1; Confucian values of, 124, 127, 132, 134, 151; in contemporary Dali, 150–152, 160–164, 166–167; faithful widow cult, 124–125; Meng Jiangnü legend, 120–121; in Ming and Qing

civilizing projects, 10–11, 107, 112–115, 124– 129, 145–146; in the PRC, 6, 146–147; Qu Yuan legend, 122, 123, 135; in the Republican period, 145; sexual propriety as marker of civilization, 11, 20; shaming men, 213n27; shrines and temples for, 124–129, 125f; Star-Returning Festival and, 117–122, 129, 131–132, 212n71; suicides by followers, 113. See also Baijie Furen; chastity cult; Cishan; ­civilization–barbarism binary Wolf, Arthur, 8 “woman,” as concept, 6, 137, 141, 148, 172 Wood Town, 161. See also Jianchuan county Wu (Chinese female emperor), 26, 76–77 Wu, David Y. H., 14 Wuzhe dengshi fahui yi (Dharma assembly ritual of unrestricted light and food), 18, 64–67, 69–72 Xia Xiaohong, 213n27 Xie Xiaohui, 95, 205n2, 208n54 “Xinghui jie” (anonymous), 120, 122, 131 “Xinghui jie” (Gong Xirui), 131 “Xinghui jie” (Shi Lianggong), 131 “Xinghui jie diaogu” (Xu Jingyang), 130 Xinuluo (Nanzhao king), 25–26, 87, 191n56 Xiu Baijie Shengfei Longwang hemiao beiji, 97, 208n57 Xi Zhi, 44–45, 197n126 Xizhou area: Baijie Amei in, 83, 100, 104, 137, 163, 169; ethnicity in, 141–142, 187n38; Yang family in, 89–91, 93–94, 100, 105, 133, 207n39 Xuan Jian, 197n128 Xuanzang, 34 Xu Jiarui, 142–143, 145, 147, 151, 163–164 Xu Jingyang, 130 Yang, Zhaohua, 192 Yang Andao, 90–91, 93 Yang Ding, 101, 208n66 Yang family from Xizhou, 89–91, 93–94, 100, 105, 133, 207n39 Yang Ganzhen, 37 Yang Junsheng, 197n128 Yang Nanjin, 122, 129–130 Yang Shen, 102–104, 209n77, 209n79 Yeyu. See Dali region Yici Shengmu, 163 Yijing, 62, 70 Yijing, 35, 45, 94 Yimouxun (Nanzhao king), 30, 90

246 I N D E X

Yixing, 78 Yü, Chün-fang, 192n62 Yuan dynasty: Cishan legend in, 116; Mongol conquest of Dali, 15–16, 85–87, 109, 115–116, 205n3, 205n7 Yuanjue jing shu, 65 Yuan Shikai, 144 Yunnan: Chinese dynasties through Sui, 15–16, 23–26, 188nn6–9; Chinese on ethnicities in, 27–28, 40, 84, 150–151, 189n24; Chinese trade in, 23, 188n7; introduction of Buddhism into, 31–36, 48–49, 60–61, 87; location of, 3m, 4m; in the Ming dynasty, 88–89, 108, 109–115; pre-Nanzhao religion in, 31; in the Qing dynasty, 109–112, 115; in the Republican period, 145–146; in the Yuan dynasty, 85–87; in Zomia, 3, 12–15, 86, 171. See also Dali region

“Yunnan school” of painting, 11, 153 Yunnan tongzhi, 111, 116–119, 124–125, 206n35 Zanning, 46 Zhang Baotai, 109 Zhang rulers of the White Cliffs, 89 Zhang Shengwen, 42 Zhang Weizhong, 48, 197n133 zhao, meaning of, 188–189n15 Zhao Shanzheng, 37 Zhao Yuzhong, 93, 207n38 Zheng Hui, 15, 30, 37, 190n43 Zheng Maisi, 37, 193n77 Zheng Tianting, 98 Zhuang Qiao, 24 Zhuge Liang, 120, 188n12 Zomia, 3, 12–15, 86, 171 Zunsheng fomu (Uṣṇīṣavijayā), 43, 47, 196n113