He Hong is a researcher at the Dongba Culture Research Institute in Lijiang. She began working at the Institute in 1992 and has since devoted over three decades to the study, transmission, and protection of Dongba culture. He Hong has authored publications such as Collation and Study of Naxi Dongba Manuscripts (2021) and The Application of Naxi Pictographic Dongba Script (2006). She has participated in numerous national and regional cultural heritage preservation projects and has actively organized international exchanges promoting Dongba culture, helping raise global awareness of Naxi traditions.

Date: November 18, 2024, afternoon
Location: Dongba Culture Research Institute, Lijiang, Yunnan Province

Ding Yi: Ms. He Hong, it’s a great pleasure to interview you. I know you’re Naxi yourself and a researcher at the Dongba Culture Research Institute in Lijiang. Could you briefly introduce the history and characteristics of the Naxi people?

He Hong: The Naxi people belong to the Yi branch of the Tibeto-Burman group within the Sino-Tibetan language family. Their origins can be traced back to the ancient Qiang people. Around the Warring States period, a portion of the Qiang migrated southward and westward from what is now Qinghai and Gansu, moving through the river valleys of the Hengduan Mountains, gradually merging with local populations to form various ethnic groups. The Naxi were among them.

According to the Huayang Guozhi (Chronicles of Huayang), by the end of the Eastern Han Dynasty, the ancestors of the Naxi—referred to as the Moxie, Mosha Yi, and Mosuo Yi—were already residing in the areas of present-day Yanyuan and Yanbian counties in Sichuan. The Manshu notes that during the Tang dynasty, the westernmost extent of Naxi settlement reached the Jinsha River valley and the northern part of Judian, with the group referred to as “Moxie Barbarians.”

By the Yuan dynasty, the Naxi had expanded their range even further. In the northeast, they had reached areas around present-day Kangding and the southern slopes of Mount Gongga in Sichuan. To the north, their presence extended as far as Batang and Litang. By the Qing dynasty, with the implementation of the “Gaitu Guiliu” policy (replacing native chieftains with state-appointed officials), the power of the Naxi tusi (hereditary native chieftain) weakened, and many Naxi people were assimilated into other ethnic groups.

Over the course of history, Naxi culture has evolved with Dongba culture at its core. Dongba encompasses a wide range of fields and centered on the belief that “everything has a spirit.” It has absorbed diverse neighboring influences and maintains intricate connections with cultures around the Himalayas, with both Buddhist and Bon traditions. Furthermore, it shares links with ancient Indian Brahmanism and Zoroastrian dualism, as well as deep kinship ties with many other Tibeto-Burman ethnic groups.

We can see that in addition to its own indigenous traditions, Naxi culture also integrates elements of Tibetan Buddhism, Chinese Buddhism, and Daoism. Together, these form the rich and multifaceted Naxi multiculturalism we see today.

Ding Yi: Dongba religion involves many interconnections with other ethnicities and cultural traditions. One of the most remarkable and unique aspects of the Naxi is their script. These pictographs are still “alive” today: readable, writable, and recognizable. How long has Dongba script been in use? And how has it been passed down to the present day?

He Hong: The history of the Naxi script is very difficult to verify. But if we talk about the origins of individual characters, it should go back quite a long time. In Naxi, the word for writing is sijiu lujiu. It has two meanings: one refers to characters carved into wood or stone—materials from the natural world, which were used before the invention of paper or silk. The second meaning is “to draw what one sees, to carve what one sees”—in other words, the characters were created by directly observing and recording the world. So far, there’s no solid archaeological evidence to confirm the precise age of the script. It’s difficult to determine an exact origin date. But it’s likely that by the Song-Yuan period, the Dongba script had matured into a relatively complete writing system. According to Naxi genealogical texts, there was an ancestor named Maizong who, as a child, could understand birdsong. He supposedly created written records based on the traces left by birds. That would make the script nearly a thousand years old.

Ding Yi: Would you say the central concerns of Dongba culture are always about our relationship with nature, and our relationship with ancestors? About where we come from and where we return? In other words, what kind of worldview, concept of nature, or view of life and death does it offer?

He Hong: The Naxi people have always seen themselves as one with nature. In Dongba culture, the Naxi and nature are considered to share the same father but have different mothers—so there is a profound respect for nature, a reverence for it. There’s a moral commitment to living in harmony with the natural world. This ethic is richly recorded in many of our classical texts and oral traditions.

Ding Yi: I understand there are rituals for the mountain gods, water gods—even river gods?

He Hong: Yes, if humans infringe upon these spirits of nature—they will seek revenge. So people respect and fear them. For instance, if someone falls ill and medicine doesn’t help, they might call a Dongba priest to perform divination. The priest might determine that on a specific day, at a certain place, the person harmed a certain living being. The only way to recover is to perform a debt-repayment ritual. After that, the person usually recovers.

Ding Yi: If you were to summarize the Naxi cosmology embedded in Dongba culture, how would you describe it?

He Hong: In the Naxi cosmology, the world is composed of three realms: Heaven, The Natrual World, and The Underworld. Each realm is distinct, but the Naxi conceptualize all of them in ways similar to the human world. They believe that the gods in the heavens live lives and uphold values much like ours. As for the underworld, it is conceived as a kind of hell. According to Naxi religious beliefs, after death, people descend into this underworld.

Ding Yi: Why has the idea of “returning to the land of the ancestors” always been preserved in Naxi culture?

He Hong: Because the Naxi people deeply revere their ancestors.They believe that one should pass away peacefully with family nearby. The Dongba priest then performs a ritual to receive your final breath, and your soul is sent off by the Dongba—this is seen as the best way to depart. Based on your family’s ancestral origin—for example, as we mentioned earlier, some came down from the Qinghai-Gansu region—the Dongba will guide your soul step by step from your current place of residence all the way back to your ancestral homeland, where you can reunite with your forebears.

Later, this belief system absorbed Buddhist concepts: once you’ve returned to the ancestral land, you may ascend further to the heavens where the gods dwell. There are multiple heavens—thirteen, eighteen, even thirty-three levels—depending on the version. Each level is a station your soul must pass through.

The location of your ancestors is recorded with great precision. The Naxi believe their people originated from the four major lineages, so when a Dongba sends you off, they must first identify your lineage. The Dongba will also give you instructions: once you arrive at the ancestral realm, you must head toward the area associated with your lineage. For example, if you’re from the Shu clan, your ancestral land is a place where tigers leap and people weave cloth. You must follow the signs of that land. You shouldn’t stray into the domain of another lineage. The Dongba will remind you of all this.

Ding Yi: In Dongba culture, there’s a very famous scroll painting called The Road to Heaven, which is also an expression of the Naxi view of life and death. What kind of values does The Road to Heaven aim to convey to the world? From what I’ve learned, It’s usually divided into four parts: Nine Black Mountains, The Underworld, The Natural World, and Heaven. A person must pass through a ritual journey across these realms in order to reach the heavenly realm of the gods.

He Hong: Yes, and this also incorporates a moral view of good and evil, alongside the earlier-mentioned nature worship. In the Nine Black Mountains, for instance, dwell ghosts that are the consequence of one’s killing acts in life. These are called leiq chel ceeq (ghosts). While they can’t harm you while you’re alive, they’ll block your path after death. These mountains are extremely difficult to pass through. Only with the help of a Dongba can one be freed. In the process of liberation, a demon king of the underworld awaits you with a mirror—this is somewhat like in Buddhist tradition. Everything you did in life appears in the mirror. He watches the mirror and judges whether you can pass. If you believe your killing had justification, you must argue your case to him. At the same time, the Dongba is conducting a ritual on your behalf to repay your karmic debt. For example, if you killed a bird for food, the Dongba might sacrifice a sheep in your place. This ritual repays your debt from life, allowing your soul to continue its journey upward, step by step.

The depiction of the The Underworld in The Road to Heaven is quite terrifying. There are knife trees with 18 branches, and souls become impaled on them. At this moment, the Dongba priest must create a ritual version of the same tree, and chant scriptures toward it. By doing so, they suppress the evil tree growing from the mouth of a turtle-fish-headed demon below and free the soul from this level as well.

The soul must endure many hardships because in their lifetime, people inevitably commit wrongdoings. Without the assistance of the Dongba, the soul cannot ascend. The reason Dongba culture has been preserved is because people believe in these things—they believe that only by relying on the Dongba’s spiritual power can one be released and return to the place of their ancestors. This is a very powerful faith.

Ding Yi: How do you explain The Natural World and the Heaven?

He Hong: The Natural World means that after a soul is guided through the rituals, it may return to this realm. The Dongba will pray to leave behind the person’s blessings and fortune for their family, and then guide the soul to Heaven.

Ding Yi: Does everyone ascend to the Heaven after undergoing the Dongba ritual?

He Hong: From the perspective of the Dongba rituals, it seems like everyone can ascend after the ceremony. But in the scriptures, it states that only those who can justify themselves during the judgment phase can ascend.

Ding Yi: Based on your research and observation, given that The Road to Heaven has such a long history, has it evolved over time? Do different Dongbas interpret it differently? Since many Road to Heaven scrolls are drawn by the Dongba themselves.

He Hong: The Road to Heaven is drawn based on the Dongba scriptures, so its main content doesn’t change. However, different Dongba may add more or less detail to certain parts. During the various phases of soul transcendence, different Dongbas might use slightly different terminology. Once the soul reaches Heaven, some may mention the thirty-three levels of heaven only briefly, while others describe them in great detail, including which deity helps escort the soul along each segment. If a Dongba draws the scroll very elaborately, then that version of The Road to Heaven might be longer.

Ding Yi: The Naxi epic Genesis has four main chapters: “Creation of Heaven and Earth,” “The Great Flood,” “Heavenly Warfare,” and “Migration to the Human World.” What influence has this epic had on shaping the Naxi people’s sense of identity?

He Hong: These four chapters have had a huge influence on the Naxi people. The “Creation of Heaven and Earth” records the formation of the universe and the origins of all things, so through this record, we can understand how the world was believed to be formed. “The Great Flood” tells why the flood occurred. Although flood myths exist in many cultures, the Naxi version is different. In most other cultures, after the flood wiped out humanity, sibling marriage was introduced to repopulate the world. But the Naxi reversed this idea. According to their story, it was the unethical concept of sibling marriage that polluted heaven and earth, leading to the flood. In Naxi belief, impurity is a very serious taboo—seen as something especially negative. In the story, five brothers and six sisters of Chong Ren Li En (崇忍利恩) got married, and two of his brothers were particularly disrespectful to the gods. So the gods cast a curse and sent a catastrophic flood to wipe them out. Among the brothers, Chong Ren Li En was especially kind-hearted. His compassion moved the gods, so they taught him a method to survive: he was to kill a cow, sew its hide shut with fine thread and a delicate needle, and hide inside. When the other two brothers came to ask the gods, the gods deliberately gave them false instructions—telling them to kill a pig and sew its hide with thick needles and fine thread. Cowhide is thicker and can be stitched tightly enough to block out water, whereas pigskin is thinner and less watertight. As a result, Chong Ren Li En was the only human who survived the flood. This story serves as a moral lesson, teaching people to be kind and honest.

After the floodwaters receded, only Chong Ren Li En remained. The gods in heaven saw how lonely and pitiful he was, so they threw down some wooden figures for him to find a companion among them. These wooden people had legs but couldn’t walk, mouths but couldn’t speak, so they couldn’t become his partners. The gods then told him that there were two celestial sisters in heaven—one had vertical eyes and was beautiful; the other had horizontal eyes—and advised him to choose the one with horizontal eyes because she had a kind heart. So, Chong Ren Li En journeyed to the heavens. First, he encountered the beautiful woman with vertical eyes and was so captivated by her looks that he forgot the gods’ advice and married her. After their marriage, she gave birth to many strange creatures—like snakes, frogs, and trees—none of which were human in form. They had to abandon them in the forests, and these beings later became the various animals and plants in the mountains.

With no other choice, Chong Ren Li En returned to the heavens once more and finally met the goddess with horizontal eyes. She hid him beneath her wings and brought him back to Heaven. After enduring a series of perilous trials set by the Heavenly Father, and with the goddess’s secret help, he overcame every danger. Eventually, they married, descended to the human world, and began a happy life together. The Heavenly Father and Mother prepared a rich dowry for them—but left out two things: one was the turnip (蔓菁), believed to be the finest grain of heaven; the other was the cat, considered a kind of blessing. The goddess, thinking both would benefit humanity, secretly brought them down to the mortal world.

Three years passed, and the couple still had no children. The goddess decided to send a bat and a dog to the heavens to ask her parents why. Afterward, they gave birth to three sons—but the children grew up unable to speak. So, the goddess sent another messenger to inquire. The Heavenly Father and Mother replied it was because they had not offered a sacrifice to heaven. So Chong Ren Li En and his wife held a ritual. One day, while the three sons were working in the fields, they saw a horse eating turnips. At that moment, they each uttered a different language to describe the scene: the eldest spoke Tibetan, the second spoke Naxi, and the youngest spoke Bai. Thus, they became the ancestors of the Tibetan, Naxi, and Bai peoples.

As for the turnip and the cat, because the goddess had secretly brought them down to earth, the Heavenly Father and Mother were furious. They cursed the turnip to be heavy like a stone when carried and thin like water when cooked. The cat was cursed to do nothing but purr beside the hearth, and to become a strange and ugly creature when bathed. Therefore, these once-precious gifts from heaven became quite ordinary on Earth due to the curses placed upon them.

Ding Yi: Traditional versions of The Road to Heaven often include the 卍 (Wan) symbol, but they also depict another symbol that is its reverse. I understand that Naxi culture has connections to Tibetan culture, and that the 卍 (Wan) is related to Buddhist imagery. Why do these two opposing symbols appear together in the scrolls? But why are both symbols shown together?

He Hong: In the Dongba script of the Naxi people, the 卍 (Wan) is pronounced ɯ³³, and it means “good” or “auspicious.” In this context, both forms of the symbol are used. As far as I know, the symbol actually originates from Bon religion, and it can indicate which branch of Bon it belongs to—Bon monks typically have this symbol on their hats. Since the Naxi people were deeply influenced by Bon, I think it’s quite natural that they adopted this image. But why are both forms of the symbol used? Perhaps it’s because Dongba culture among the Naxi is not as doctrinally strict or rigidly organized as Tibetan Buddhism or Bon. This means the artists had more freedom, so both versions of the symbol could appear side by side.

Ding Yi: In Dongba culture, the Twenty-Eight Constellations frequently appear. Could you briefly explain their significance in Dongba cosmology?

He Hong: According to Dongba texts, and each year has twelve months, each month has thirty days. These thirty days are managed in rotation by the Twenty-Eight Constellations. This shows that the Naxi people had already been observing the movement of the moon and used the constellations as reference points. The idea is that the moon “rests” at one constellation each night, thus creating the cycle of the Twenty-Eight Constellations. Since a month has thirty days, two days must overflow into the next cycle, and this looping structure repeats.

Additionally, since a solar year is 365 days, there’s a five-day difference after twelve cycles end, which also necessitates adjustments for entering the next cycle into the next year—this is how the Naxi astronomical calendar developed.

Beyond calendrical functions, the Constellations also influence many aspects of human life and are used for divination. Divination is very important to the Naxi: for example, determining the best days for marriage, household tasks, or significant activities. These practices are all recorded.

Different scholars have various interpretations of the Twenty-Eight Constellations, and there is some overlap in the imagery. For instance, Dongba texts might say that launching a military expedition on the day governed by the “Red-Eyed Star” will likely bring victory, while getting married on the day of the “Lard Star” is considered the most auspicious.

Also, there is a story in which, during the celestial maiden’s descent to the human world, her journey is disrupted by encountering certain stars that bring rain, causing her migration to fail. In such cases, a celestial deity in charge of the stars must be consulted to choose a more favorable day, ensuring the success of her descent. These activities of the stars are closely tied to everyday life and work.