Socialist Realism and some Western Fantasies

In Praise of Bad Art

Let’s get the confession out of the way right at the start: I don’t know much about art, but I know what I like.

This is not, for once, the precursor to an ill-informed rant about ‘modern art’, it is merely a statement of fact. I studied sciences at school and engineering at university but when I became a teacher I returned to mathematics, always my favourite school subject (and that, no doubt, proves to some that I am, at the very least, odd). I spent my last art lesson, aged 14, as I spent most cleaning brushes and sharpening pencils, I had learned long before that any ‘art’ I produced would be not just bad but embarrassing, so I produced none – and have continued to produce none for the next 58 years. I am not going to change now.

Socialist Realism

But that does not mean I do not appreciate other’s efforts. This post is an appreciation of one, odd, quirky artistic backwater that we have encountered in our travels. Socialist Realism is probably of more interest to students of politics and sociology than of art, but I know what I like – and I like it.

The Leaders

The 1917 Russian Revolution was a major convulsion. The past was over, everything, including art, had to begin again. Many within the artistic community were happy to be co-opted into the new future.

An enormous head of Lenin, Ulan Ude in the Russian far east

Stalin, like Hitler, had no time for decadent artforms, but the idea of Socialist Realism emerged slowly, the term being first used in 1932. In 1934 the four guidelines of Socialist realism were laid out at the 17th Congress of the All-Union Communist Party.

Lynne and Uncle Joe, Stalin's birthplace museum, Gori, Georgia

Art must be:

1) Proletarian: art relevant to the workers and understandable to them.
2) Typical: scenes of everyday life of the people.
3) Realistic: in the representational sense.
4) Partisan: supportive of the aims of the State and the Party.

Waiting for the firing squad?
Stalin, Lenin, former Albanian leader Enver Hoxha (and some extras) stored in a rarely visited corner of Tirana castle

So how do the works above measure up to the guidelines?

An 8m high, 42 tonne head of Lenin erected in 1970 to celebrate the 100th anniversary of his birth is easily understood by all workers: it says THE PARTY IS IN CHARGE literally (almost) in caps lock. What it means for it to be in situ 30 years after the end of the USSR is another question. The other statues said the same, only more quietly, but their new locations have changed the message. They now say: the party’s over.

All are undoubtedly realistic, Lenin very much so. Stalin looks like he was carved in frozen yoghurt and is now melting, but it is obviously him. The Albanian examples are not such good likenesses, though they have been bashed around and Enver Hoxha is hiding his face with his arm. The stone carving at his feet is actually a good likeness of him, despite the smashed nose – the least he deserved from an ungrateful nation with much to be ungrateful for.

Enver Hoxha with broken nose, Tirana Castle, Albania

That they are partisan is unquestionable, but Guideline 2...?

Peasant Wedding, Peter Breughal the Elder
(public domain)

Well, three out of four is not bad, but Peter Breughel the Elder also scored 3 out 4 - several times. The Peasant Wedding, for example, is proletarian and easily understood, is a scene of everyday life and is realistic. As for supporting the aims of the Party, Breughel died 300 years before 'The Party' was born so could neither support nor oppose. However, he depicts peasants/proletarians as human beings with our well-known virtues and vices, so, I think, too much realism for Socialist Realism.

Perhaps the rulers are not the most distinctive parts of Socialist Realism, I see little intrinsic difference between a statue of Lenin and one of Queen Victoria or Winston Churchill. So, lets have a look at the Proletarian struggle.

The Soldiers

But first, a folk hero. David of Sassoun is the hero of the Rebels of Sassoun an epic Armenian poem of unknown antiquity, first written down in 1873 after a millennium or so of oral transmission. The soviet authorities cautiously approved of national heroes; if they could not be linked to any modern political faction, they could be co-opted to the proletarian cause.

David of Sassoun, Yerevan, Armenia

A statue was erected outside Yerevan station in 1939 to celebrate the (conveniently invented) 1,000th anniversary of the poem. It was destroyed in 1941 when sculptor Yervand Kochar was accused of praising Adolf Hitler, but Kochar survived and kept his gypsum original. In 1959 a new casting was made to belatedly celebrate the 40th anniversary of the Russian revolution. It was in poor condition when visited in 2003.

And the guidelines? Proletarian? Yes, a folk tale is a story of the proletariat. Partisan? Yes, David of Sassoun was officially viewed as a proto-communist. Typical? You cannot have everything! Realistic? Look at those tree-trunk legs!

And here we encounter a problem that runs through all warriors in Socialist Realism. Proletarian soldiers must look impressive, like this chap on guard at Gjirokastër castle in Albania…

Soldier, Gjirokastër Castle, Albania

...or, better still, superhuman like this intimidating group of North Korean heroes. This is realism only for the deluded. The man firing the gun (his forearm like David of Sassoun’s leg) sensibly crouches behind the shield, but the lunatic with flag clearly has a death wish. And the man just behind? A fine physical specimen, maybe, and remarkable clean, as men involved in warfare seldom are, but he is the only North Korean male I have ever seen sporting a side-parting.

Heroic DPRK soldiers, Fatherland War Liberation Museum, Pyongyang

We saw many soldiers during our week in North Korea. They were small, proud men in cheap, poorly made uniforms one size too large. No one below the rank of colonel gets a uniform that fits, or perhaps no one below that rank eats well enough to fill the uniform they are given. None of them looked like any of the group above.

Workers, Peasants, Men, Women and Children, More Fighters, More Leaders

Long Live the Great socialist October Revolution , 31st Anniversary (1948)
City Museum, Tallinn, Estonia

The men above, and the peasants, children etc immediately above and below exemplify the problem of Socialist Realism. Scenes of everyday life (and warfare) must support the aims of the party. So, soldiers must be heroic, and workers must be happy and thriving, and owe that to the party, and know they owe it to the party.

Long live the Estonian Soviet Socialist Republic, 11th Anniversary
City Museum, Tallinn, Estonia

Somewhere in the corner, Breughal would have included a grumpy git, or somebody cheating in some way, but Socialist Realism cannot allow this, everybody must be cooperating happily. That you cannot please all the people all the time, is an immutable law of human nature and so Socialist Realism can never be realistic. The problem is not with socialism specifically, it is with mandating art to support the government.

When a leader joins his adoring people, realism is missed by an extra notch. Travellers arriving on Puhung metro station (one of the four stations on the Pyongyang metro open to foreigners) are greeted by no less than Kim Il Sung, the DPRK's Eternal Leader.

Kim Il Sung himself, welcomes us to Puhung station on the Pyongyang metro
Notice the miner's foot on the stairs, the DPRK is very keen on trompe l'oeil

Two Favourites

I will finish this section with my two favourites. The first is a mosaic on the façade of Tirana’s Museum of National History.

Albanian Museum of National History, Skanderbeg Square, Tirana

It displays the whole of Albanian history, starting with the Illyrians and Thracians on the left before moving seamlessly to the intellectuals of the 19th century Albanian Renaissance. On the right are the workers and peasants who saw off the Ottoman Empire in the early 20th century - one woman giving a distrustful backward glance at the intellectuals. All are led into the glorious socialist future by a worker, a soldier and an inappropriately dressed young woman with a right forearm that would not disgrace a blacksmith. She would be terrifying even if she was not carrying a rifle. Such works need to be treasured as many have already disappeared, been painted over or dismantled as Albania deals with its new reality.

Mosaic, Albanian Museum of National History, Skanderbeg Square, Tirana

The second is a painting in the lobby of the May 6th Hotel, Sariwon, North Korea which expands the delusion to a whole new level of ‘Realism’. The conceit here is not just that North Korea is a paradise, but that leaders from across the world recognise this and come to admire and seek advice from the great Kim Il Sung himself.

Kim Il Sung meets the people of the world, May 6th Hotel Lobby, Sariwon, North Korea 

Capitalist Realism?

Hitler’s tastes in art were apparently similar to Stalin’s and the Nazis promoted Heroic Realism which has a studied arrogance that Socialist Realism lacks.

"Capitalist realism" has been used to describe the Pop Art of the 1950s and 1960s and the commodity art of the 1980s and 1990s, but as a self-knowing play on "socialist realism". Search for ‘Capitalist Realism Paintings’ on google images and it is difficult to see the theme running through the results, although artwork from the Jehovah’s Witnesses magazine The Watchtower, does come up a few times; it undoubtedly has the style and lack of self-awareness, of the finest Socialist Realism.

But can there a precise western counterpart of Socialist Realism - when you are living the dream, why pretend? Yes, of course, there can, and I have two examples, one American which I call Hollywood realism, the other British, Imperialist Realism, perhaps..

British Imperialist Realism

The neo-Baroque head office of Liverpool's Royal Insurance Company was completed in 1903. It is now the Aloft Hotel where we stayed last year. A remarkable stone frieze sits below one window. The soldier-like figures suggest the British Empire is out there comforting widows and their children, building railways across the wilderness and erecting churches to shine light into the world’s darkest places - and all these activities are protected by the Royal Insurance Company.

Frieze, Aloft Hotel, Liverpool

The British empire was, of course, an unalloyed force for good in the world, spreading the benefits of civilisation and Christianity; it was never about exploiting the wealth or the inhabitants of far-away countries. There were people who believed that then – there are some who believe it now, even some in positions of power and influence.

Hollywood Realism

​In 2013 we flew into North Korea from Beijing, but returned by overnight train. We lunched in Korea, reached the border in late afternoon and rolled across the Yalu River into the Chinese city of Dandong in early evening. North Korea is the only country we have ever left with a feeling of relief and we savoured the welcoming bright lights, bustle and (yes) freedom of China.

We dined on the train after it left Dandong. In Korea food (for us) was plentiful if not particularly interesting and our Chinese dinner was like eating in full colour after our monochrome Korean lunch. But the Korean’s brew good beer, and the only beer available with with our dinner was Pabst, a brew which contributed fully to the USA’s former reputation as a beer drinker’s desert. More interesting than the beer was the artwork on the cans, a set of half a dozen, rather similar pictures, one of them reproduced below.

Pabst beer can - Heroic American Soldier, smiling, friendly and armed to the teeth
A can with bad taste inside and out?

The copyright of the above picture belongs to Interbrand and I have borrowed the artwork from their website. They inform me these special edition cans were made only for the Chinese market. I make no further comment.

Why I like Socialist Realism

I started by saying I liked Socialist Realism, I ought now to explain why.

I am not that keen on the leaders, but I love the cheerful pictures of happy workers, peasants and soldiers. But only a fool takes them at face value, behind every silver lining there is a cloud, a very obvious cloud in the case of the death-defying, North Korean, machine gunners.

Socialist Realism is, of course, fantasy, but it was conceived as realism, the irony in the name is unintentional. Many people are involved in the production of public art. A top-level decision is made to create, say, a mosaic, artists work on designs, a committee will choose the winner, workers will make the pieces and put them in place. I suspect somebody among them will honestly believe in what they are doing, though most will just get on with their jobs. But where is the belief? At the top? Among the workers? Surely not among the artists, or is it?

I love the ambivalence and ambiguity, though I admit they are easier to enjoy when they are safely in the past; some of the North Korean examples – and the American beer can – are more worrying.

…and finally…

The Korean Worker’s Party Monument in Pyongyang is a typical piece of DPRK bombast…

Korean Workers' Party Monument, Pyongyang

…but inside the circle of concrete blocks, just above head height, is a frieze, a relief of women, soldiers, children, aviators and more whose task is, apparently, to outstare the future.

Nobly attempting to outstare the future, Korean Worker's Party Monument, Pyongyang

I cannot believe there was not a knowing hand in here somewhere.

In a Similar Vein

Statues Without Plinths (2023)
Socialist Realism: In Praise of Bad Art (2022)
The Boxes of Carvoeiro (2016)

Tibetan Buddhism: Buddhist Temples, Monasteries and Buddha Images Part 3

Tibetan Buddhism - not Just in Tibet

The Tibetan Tradition

Buddhism probably arrived in Tibet from India in the 8th century. That makes it part of the Mahayana tradition, but as it includes many tantric practices and elements of Vajrayana, it is often treated as a separate branch of Buddhism.

Tibetan Wheel

I offer the above paragraph in good faith; I believe it to be accurate but I admit to not understanding some of the words. I have, though, observed that in Tibetan Buddhism, as in Mahayana, Buddha images often come in threes, Bodhisattva Maitreya (the Future Buddha), the Buddha, and Bodhisattva Avalokiteśvara (The Compassion Buddha). Bodhisattvas are important, as are fearsome images of guardians, but there seems less emphasis on Arhats. Like Theravada, Tibetan Buddhism has a strong monastic tradition. Only Tibetan Buddhists use prayer wheels, praying by rotating a wheel about a sacred text, and prayer flags where sacred texts blow in the wind.

Although Tibetan Buddhism has several independent branches, each having its own monasteries and leaders, they remain closely related. The Gelug (Yellow Hat) is the dominant school - not just in Tibet - and the most influential Gelugpa is the Dalai Lama.

Tibetan Monasteries

Tibetan Buddhism is not confined to Tibet, the map above shows the monasteries/temples covered in this post, though there will also be a surprise visit to Beijing. But I will start in the obvious place. We visited Lhasa in July/Aug 2005.

Tibet (officially the Xizang Autonomous Region, China)

Lhasa

Lhasa is an interesting city to visit. At 3,700m (12,000ft) most people suffer some effect of altitude; breathlessness, aching joints, sleep disruption or even a brief collapse. In midsummer the air is pleasantly warm though air-conditioning is not required.

Officially encouraged Han migration has resulted in half the 500,000 population being non-Tibetan. I deplore the destructive Chinese policy of squeezing the culture of ethnic minorities, though from an entirely selfish point of view, the Han presence - and the existence of a Nepali community - allowed us to eat well. Tibetans' own food never quite escapes the distinctive rancid flavour of yak butter.

The Jokhang Temple

The Jokhang Temple is the physical and spiritual centre of Lhasa. In summer the modest frontage on Barkhor Square was permanently semi-blocked by prostrating pilgrims. The interior was dark and the air dense with the smell of wood smoke and burning yak butter candles as devotees jostled to make their offerings.

Entrance to the Jokhang Temple, Lhasa

We escaped to the roof.

Lynne on the roof of the Jokhang Temple, Lhasa

The Potala Palace

From the Jokhang roof we looked across the Square to the dramatically sited Potala Palace the home of the Dalai Lama – though he has lived in exile since 1959.

The Potala Palace from the roof of the Jokhang Temple, Lhasa

Once you have acquired a ticket and turned many prayer wheels…

There are many prayer wheels to turn in Lhasa

…you have the freedom of the palace complex.

Inside the Potala Palace complex, Lhasa

The Drepung Monastery

Five kilometres outside Lhasa, Drepung is the largest monastery in Tibet. At its peak there were as many as ten thousand monks. There are now less than a thousand, and with tight Chinese control the monastery lacks the moral authority it once had, but when we visited in 2005 it seemed a thriving community.

Just Part of the Drepung Monastery Complex

It is a large complex on many levels on the side of Mount Gephel. Climbing from courtyard to courtyard up steps that were often more ladders than staircases was hard work. It was our second full day in Lhasa and the thin air took its toll. Lynne leaned against a wall to get her breath and then slowly slipped down to a seated position. Leaving her in the ticket office in the care of some solicitous and friendly monks....

Solicitous and friendly monks

...I continued alone.

Drepung Monastry

Sadly, she missed the hall full of monks chanting sutras.....

Chanting monks, Drepung Monastery

....the monk's prayer hall near the top of the complex...

Prayer Hall, Drepung Monastery

....and this view of a lone monk standing on a roof, surveying the world. A true son of Tibet, he stands behind the gold encased finials waiting for his kettle to boil.

Waiting for his kettle to boil, Drepung Monastery

As committed tea drinkers the Tibetans make the British look like amateurs. What I cannot understand, though, is why, once they have made a nice pot of tea they always stir in a dollop of yak butter. The advantage of yak butter is that never goes off, the disadvantage is that tastes like it has even when fresh.

Sera Monastery

At Sera monastery back in the city, the younger monks gather in a stony square two or three afternoons a week. The more senior monks test their juniors on points of Buddhist philosophy asking question in an aggressive if stylised manner.

Debating at Sera Monastery, Lhasa

I have heard that important as this once was, it is now just for tourists. Perhaps, but they entered into it with vigour and thought – and occasionally a little humour.

Mongolia

North from the Tibetan Plateau, across several hundred kilometres of dessert are the huge open grasslands of Mongolia, the least densely populated country in the world.

Buddhism was introduced to the nomadic empires of Mongolia in the 1st century CE though in time it faded into Shamanism.

In the early 13th century Genghis Khan united Mongolia and went on to rule the largest contiguous empire ever seen. It fragmented after his death, but his grandson Kublai Khan started out as ruler of most of Mongolia and northern China. By 1271 he had unified China and established the Yuan Dynasty. He introduced Tibetan Buddhism and monasticism into Mongolia, but after the demise of his dynasty in 1368, Mongolia again slowly relapsed into shamanism.

During the 16th Mongolian cultural revival Altan Khan, a warlord with an eye to reunifying the country made an ally of the Dalai Lama. Tibetan Buddhism returned to Mongolia and was reinforced by the Chinese Qing dynasty in the next couple of centuries.

Ulaanbaatar

In 2007 selecting the southern option of the Trans-Siberian Railway took us to Ulaanbaatar. Mongolians traditionally moved with the seasons, and Ulaanbaatar only settled on its present site in 1789. It is now home to 1.3 million, more than half the vast country’s population

Gandan Monastery

The first buildings of Ulaanbaatar’s Gandan Monastery were constructed in 1809. Buildings have come and gone, but the most impressive, the temple of Boddhisattva Avalokiteshvara was built in 1913.

Temple of the Boddhisattva Avalokiteshvara, Gandan Monastery

Gandan closed in 1938 as Mongolia's client government obediently followed Stalin’s anti-religious line. After the Second World War Stalin decided to make token acknowledgment of traditional cultures and religions across the USSR. The Mongolian government followed suit, reopening Gandan in 1948, though with many restrictions. Since the end of communism in 1990 all restrictions have been lifted, and there has been a resurgence of Buddhism.

(see Ulaanbaatar: Part 11 of the Trans-Siberian Railway)

Bürd Sum

Leaving Ulaanbaatar with a driver and local guide we drove 340 km to the Bürd Sum (district) of Övörkhangai Aimag (province) where we stayed with a local family. The first 50 km of the journey were on tarmac, the rest over open steppe. Övörkhangai is three times the size of Wales but the whole population would almost fit into the Principality Stadium.

(see Across the Mongolian Steppe: Part 9 of the Trans-Siberian Railway)

Shaman Shrine

Next day we visited Erdene Zuu. More driving across grassland brought us to a proper road. At the road junction was a shrine. Mongolian Buddhism has absorbed shamanism, and this is essentially a shaman shrine. We did the proper thing, which is to walk round it three times clockwise and placed a new stone on the top. Most passers-by contented themselves with a hoot on the horn.

A shaman shrine, Ovorkhangai Province

Kharkhorin, Övörkhangai Province

Ghengis Khan built his capital of Karakorum on the site of modern Kharkhorin in around 1220. Not being the settling down sort of guy, Ghengis soon moved on, though the city thrived for a while before being destroyed by a Ming army in 1388. Modern Kharkhorin is a major population centre, by Mongolian standards, with 13,000 inhabitants.

Erdene Zuu

The monastery of Erdene Zuu was built in 1585, using such remnants of Karakorum as were available. The boundary of the rectangular site is marked by 100 small stupas. 108 is the number of attributes of the Buddha, so either 8 stupas have been lost or somebody miscounted during the building process.

Erdene Zuu

The modern city of Kharkhorin sits under the black smoke in the distance - a rare example of Mongolian industry.

Stupas, Erdene Zuu

By the end of the 19th century there were over 60 temples on the site, but in 1939 most were destroyed by the communists.

Surviving Temple, Erdene Zuu

All the surviving temples are open to visitors.

Inside a temple, Erdene Zuu

In 1990 the site was handed back to the monks and Erdene Zuu became an active monastery again.

Monk taking a prayer wheel for a walk, Erdene Zuu

(see With the Mongolian Nomads: Part 10 of the Trans-Siberian Railway)

Buryat Republic, Russia

Our previous stop on the Trans-Siberian had been at Ulan Ude, the capital of Buryatia, one of the constituent republics of the Russian Federation. Buryats are ethnic Mongolians, and so Buddhists, but Buryatia has been Russian since the seventeenth century. Then, Inner and Outer Mongolia struggled under imperial Chinese rule while the Buryats traded with the incoming Russians and enjoyed comparative freedom and prosperity.

Ivolginsk Datsan

Before the Russian Revolution, there were hundreds of Datsans in Buryatia and thousands of monks, but by the 1930’s the Datsans had all been closed and the monks dispatched to the Gulags. In the 1940s Stalin decided it was time for more religious tolerance and so a Datsan was constructed at Ivolginsk, 30 km west of Ulan Ude. It opened in 1947 on a site carefully chosen by astrologers.

Ivolginsk Datsun, near Ulan Ude

The architecture and decoration of the Johkang Temple, Potala Palace and Drepung Monastery in Lhasa are almost identical. Gandan and Erdene Zuu are cut from similar cloth, but the main building at Ivolginsk, 3,000 km north of Lhasa, looks, unsurprisingly, less Tibetan and ever so slightly Russian.

The Temple at the Ivolginsk Datsun, near Ulan Ude

…but from some angles the Tibetan look predominates.

Tibetan style stupas, Ivolginsk, near Ulan Ude

Andre, our Christian European Russian guide was here when the Dalai Lama visited this outpost of his flock in the 1980s. He was very taken by his serenity and almost tangible charisma.

Prayer wheels, Ivolginsk Datsun, near Ulan Ude with Tibetan script (her right) and Mongolian script

(see Ulan Ude (1) Buddhists, Old Believers and an Enormous Head of Lenin: Part 6 of the Trans-Siberian Railway

China

Or, more accurately, China again as Tibet is part of China. Chinese Buddhism follows the Mahayana tradition, but that does not mean there are no ‘Tibetan pockets.’

Beijing

The Dalai Lama fled Tibet in 1959 over his disagreement with the Chinese authorities. He is a man of integrity and peace from whom the Chinese could learn much, but instead they regard him rather like the Americans regarded Osama bin-Ladin. It was not always that way.

Stupa, Beihai Park

Beihai Park, just north of Beijing’s centre was allegedly created by Kublai Khan. The stupa on the artificial island was built to commemorate the visit of a 17th century Dalai Lama to Beijing.

Stupa on the artificial island, Beihai Park, Beijing

(see Beijing (2): Xicheng and Beihai Park. Part 2 of Beijing, North Korea and Shanxi)

Yonghe Gong

The Yonghe Gong was our first ever Buddhist temple on out first ever visit to Beijing. It is a rare example of a Tibetan Temple in the Han heartland, though I doubt we realised that at the time.

It was built in 1649, as a residence for court eunuchs. It then became the palace of Prince Yong, who turned part of the complex into a lamasery when he became emperor in 1722. On his death in 1733 Tibetan Buddhists were invited to take over the whole site. Developments since then have produced buildings which mix Tibetan and Chinese styles.

Lynne at the Yonghe Gong

The temple complex survived the Cultural Revolution and re-opened to the public in 1981. One of the charms of the place is that after so many years of religious repression many would-be devotees do not seem sure of what they should be doing.

Uncertain worshippers, Yonghe Gong

The temple contains a remarkable 18m high statue of the Buddha carved from a single piece of sandalwood.

Maitreya Buddha carved from a single piece of sandalwood, Yonge Gong, Beijing

India

Buddhism has all but died out in the country of its birth, but it is still possible to see dramatic Buddhist temples

Kushalnagar, Karnataka

The Dalai Lama and the Tibetan government-in-exile live in Dharamsala in the extreme north of India. We have not been there, but in 2010 we visited the small town of Kushalnagar in the southern state of Karnataka - as far south of Lhasa as Ulan Bator is north - where the state government has settled 10,000 exiled Tibetans.

Namdroling Monastery

As well as the usual secular requirements of any settlement, there are two Gelugpa monasteries and the much larger Namdroling Temple which follows the Nyingmapa tradition from Eastern Tibet.

Namdroling Monastery, Kushalnagar, Karnatica

As can be seen both from the outside and the interior, Namdroling is well financed. It is known as ‘The Golden Temple’- and with good reason.

Interior of Namdroling - The Golden Temple, Kushalnagar

The temple looks typically Tibetan and even displays a trio of Buddhas - as promised in the introduction. July in Lhasa had been pleasantly warm but air-conditioning was unnecessary, people merely left doors and windows open and allowed in the fresh, if rather thin, air. At other times of the year it can be viciously cold. February in Kushalnagar was hot and humid (it is equally hot, though far wetter in the monsoon season) and the vegetation around the temple could not have been less Tibetan. Namdroling looked like an exotic transplant from a faraway land.

Namdroling, The Golden Temple, Kushalnagar

Buddhist Temples, Monasteries and Buddha Images

Part 1: Introduction
Part 2: Mahayana Buddhism
Part 3: Tibetan Buddhism
Part 4: Theravada (1) Sri Lanka
Part 5: Theravada (2) Myanmar
Part 6: Theravada (3) Laos, Cambodia & Thailand