The Hutuktu of Narabanchi recounted this to me when I made a visit to his monastery at the beginning of 1921:
“When the King of the World appeared before the Lamas who were favourised by God, inside our monastery, thirty years ago, he made a prophecy relative to the fifty years to come. Here it is:
” ‘ More and more, men will forget their souls and will occupy themselves with their bodies. The greatest corruption will reign on the Earth. Men will become like ferocious animals, thirsting for the blood of their brothers. The Crescent will efface itself and its adepts will fall into mendicity and into perpetual war. Its conquerors will be struck by the sun but will not rise twice; the greatest misfortune will happen to them which will end in insults in the eyes of other peoples. The crowns of kings, big and small, will fall: one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight… There will be a terrible war among all peoples. The oceans will turn red… the land and the bottom of the seas will be covered in bones… kingdoms will be split up, entire peoples will die… hunger, illness, crimes unknown to the laws, that never before the world has seen. Then will come the enemies of God and the Divine Spirit who are in Man. Those who take the hand of another will also perish. The forgotten, the persecuted will rise up and will hold the attention of the whole world. There will be fogs and tempests. Denuded mountains will be covered in forests. The Earth will quake… Millions of men will exchange the chains of slavery and humiliations for hunger, illness and death. The ancient roads will be covered in crowds going from one place to another. The biggest, the most beautiful cities will perish by fire… one, two, three… The father will rise up against the son, the brother against the brother, the mother against the daughter. Vice, crime, destruction of the body and of the soul will follow… Families will be dispersed… Fidelity and love will disappear… From ten thousand men, only one will survive… he will be naked, mad, without strength and will not know how to build a house or find food… He will hurl like the furious wolf, will devour cadavers, will bite his own flesh, and will defy God in combat… All the Earth will be empty. God will turn away from it. On it will spread only night and death. Then I shall send a People, now unknown, who, with a strong hand, will tear out the weeds of madness and vice, and will lead those who remain faithful to the Spirit of Man in the battle against evil. They will found a new life on the Earth that is purified by the death of nations. In the fiftieth year, three great kingdoms only will appear, which will live happily for seventy-one years. Afterwards, there will be eighteen years of war and destruction. Then the Peoples of Agharti will come out of their Underground Caverns and will appear on the surface of the Earth.’ “
Later, travelling through Eastern Mongolia, towards Peking, I often asked myself:
“What would happen? What would happen if whole peoples, of different colours, religions, tribes began to emigrate towards the West?”
Now, at the time that I am writing these last lines, my eyes involuntarily turn toward this limitless heart of Asia over which is unwinding the trail of my wanderings. Through the swirling snow or the sand storms of the Gobi, I see the face of the Hutuktu of Narabanchi while, in a calm voice, his slim hand showing me the horizon, he was opening for me the secret of his intimate thoughts.
Near Karakorum, on the banks of Ubsa-Nor, I see the immense multicoloured camps, the herds of horses and other animals, the blue yurtas of the Chiefs. Above, I see the banners of Gengis-Khan, the Kings of Tibet, of Siam, of Afghanistan, and of the Indian Princes; the sacred symbols of the Lamaist Pontiffs; the coats-of-arms of the Khans, of the Olets and the simple symbols of the Mongol tribes of the North. I do not hear the sound of an agitated crowd. The singers are not singing the melancholic tunes of the mountains, of the plains and of the deserts. The young cavaliers are not amusing themselves running, mounted on their rapid horses… There are innumerable flocks of old men, of women and children, and, beyond, to the North and to the West, as far as the eye can see, the sky is red like the flame, one hears the grumbling and the bubbling of the fire, the ferocious noise of the battle which these warriors are leading, spilling their blood and that of others under this reddened sky! Who is leading these flocks of old men without weapons? I see a severe order, a deep and religious comprehension of the goal, patience, tenacity, a new emigration of peoples, the last march of the Mongols.
Karma has perhaps opened a new page in History.
And what will happen if the King of the World is with them?
But this great Mystery of Mysteries maintains its deep silence.