Interlude B: Lost Texts, Fragmented Canons

This chapter is part of the book The Sacred Editors: Buddhism.

"Not everything was forgotten. But much was not remembered."

Gilgit, Kashmir, 1931. The archaeological expedition led by Aurel Stein has just made an extraordinary discovery in the ruins of an ancient monastery. Buried beneath centuries of debris and protected by the dry mountain air, dozens of birch-bark manuscripts have survived in remarkable condition. As the team carefully extracts the fragile leaves, covered in scripts that range from early Brāhmī to late Gupta, they realize they have uncovered a lost library—texts that vanished from living Buddhist tradition over a millennium ago.¹

One manuscript catches the attention of the scholars: a partial copy of the Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra in Sanskrit, but with significant differences from any known version. Entire passages appear that exist nowhere else, while familiar sections are arranged in completely different sequences. The handwriting suggests multiple scribes working over several decades, with marginal notes in three different languages indicating a vibrant scholarly community that was studying, copying, and apparently revising these texts even as they preserved them.

But this manuscript, like so many others from Gilgit, represents both recovery and loss. The monastery that housed this library was abandoned sometime in the eighth century, its community scattered by political upheaval or economic decline. The complete version of this variant Mahāparinirvāṇa Sūtra exists only in these fragments—the rest of the text lost forever, along with whatever distinctive interpretations and practices it might have supported. What survives is a single leaf, brittle with age, bearing a few precious lines that hint at an entire world of Buddhist thought and practice that has vanished from living memory.

This scene encapsulates one of the most poignant realities of Buddhist textual history: for every sutra that has been transmitted successfully across centuries and cultures, countless others have disappeared entirely, leaving only fragments, references, or echoes to suggest their former existence. The Buddhist canons we study today represent not the complete preservation of the Buddha's teaching, but a selective survival shaped by accidents of geography, politics, and human decision-making.

The Archaeology of Absence

Understanding what has been lost from Buddhist textual tradition requires recognizing that absence can be as historically significant as presence. The gaps in our current canonical collections point toward entire streams of Buddhist thought and practice that once flourished but failed to survive the complex processes of transmission, translation, and canonization that shaped the traditions we have inherited.

From the earliest period of Buddhist history, the tradition itself acknowledged its vulnerability to forgetting and loss. The anxiety that prompted the First Council at Rājagṛha was precisely this fear—that the Dharma might slip away through the fallibility of human memory unless it was carefully preserved through collective effort. But the process of preservation, whether oral or written, was inevitably selective, shaped by practical limitations and conscious editorial choices about what deserved continued transmission.

Texts Referenced but Missing

One of the most tangible forms of evidence for lost Buddhist literature consists of the numerous references to texts that no longer exist in any recoverable form. Across the range of Buddhist literature that has survived—in Pāli, Sanskrit, Chinese, Tibetan, and other languages—we find citations of sutras, śāstras, and commentaries that their authors clearly considered authoritative but that have vanished from all known collections.

The great Madhyamaka philosopher Nāgārjuna (c. 150-250 CE) frequently cited a text called the Dharmodgata Sūtra as a crucial source for his understanding of emptiness (śūnyatā) and dependent origination (pratītyasamutpāda). While a few fragments of this work have been identified in Central Asian manuscript discoveries, no complete version survives in any language, leaving scholars to reconstruct Nāgārjuna's source material from scattered quotations embedded in his own writings.²

Similarly, early Vinaya materials from schools like the Mahīśāsakas, Kaśyapīyas, and other groups that flourished during the early centuries of Buddhist sectarian development have been almost entirely lost, preserved only in fragmentary quotations found in later commentaries or in brief descriptions in historical catalogs. The Chinese pilgrim Yijing (635-713 CE) described encountering active communities following these disciplinary traditions during his travels in India and Southeast Asia, but the monastic codes they followed have largely disappeared, making it impossible to understand how their approaches to Buddhist practice might have differed from the traditions that survived.³

Chinese bibliographic catalogs provide particularly striking evidence of the scale of textual loss. The Kaiyuan Shijiao Lu, compiled in 730 CE as an authoritative catalog of Buddhist literature available in China, lists over 1,000 texts that were considered authentic Buddhist works at that time. Modern scholars have been able to locate fewer than half of these texts in any form, suggesting that substantial portions of the Buddhist literary corpus that once circulated in China have been entirely lost.⁴

Languages That Died with Their Texts

Perhaps even more significant than the loss of individual texts is the disappearance of entire linguistic traditions that once supported Buddhist literary culture. The discovery of Central Asian manuscript sites like Dunhuang, Turfan, and Gilgit has revealed the remarkable linguistic diversity that characterized Buddhist transmission along the Silk Road and in other frontier regions where Buddhism encountered local cultures and languages.

Gāndhārī, a Middle Indo-Aryan language written in Kharoṣṭhī script, supported a substantial Buddhist literature in the ancient region of Gandhāra (modern Pakistan and Afghanistan). Recent manuscript discoveries have revealed that many canonical texts existed in Gāndhārī versions that sometimes preserve earlier or alternative readings compared to the Sanskrit and Pāli traditions that became dominant elsewhere. However, when Gāndhārī disappeared as a living language, most of these texts disappeared with it, surviving only in the buried manuscripts that archaeologists have recovered in recent decades.⁵

Tocharian languages, spoken in the Tarim Basin of Central Asia, once supported Buddhist communities that produced original compositions as well as translations of Indian texts. The distinctive Buddhist art and architecture of sites like Kizil and Kumtura testify to sophisticated religious communities, but the Tocharian Buddhist literature that undoubtedly existed has almost entirely vanished along with the languages themselves.

Khotanese, another Central Asian language, preserved translations of important Mahāyāna texts like the Suvarṇaprabhāsa Sūtra and created original Buddhist compositions that reflected the particular spiritual and cultural concerns of the Kingdom of Khotan. When Khotan fell to Turkic invasions in the eleventh century, this distinctive Buddhist literary tradition disappeared almost entirely, leaving only scattered manuscript fragments to suggest its former richness.⁶

Material Vulnerability and Editorial Priorities

The survival of Buddhist texts was also profoundly shaped by the material conditions of manuscript production and preservation, which varied dramatically across different regions and historical periods. In tropical climates like those of South and Southeast Asia, palm-leaf manuscripts were vulnerable to humidity, insects, and fungal decay, requiring constant copying and maintenance to preserve textual traditions. The periodic droughts, floods, and other natural disasters that affected these regions could destroy entire monastery libraries within a matter of years.

The political upheavals that characterized much of Asian history also took enormous tolls on Buddhist textual traditions. The persecution of Buddhism under Emperor Wuzong in Tang dynasty China (841-845 CE) resulted in the destruction of thousands of monasteries and their libraries. The Islamic invasions of North India during the eleventh and twelfth centuries led to the systematic destruction of major Buddhist centers like Nālandā and Vikramaśīla, along with their manuscript collections that had been accumulating for centuries.⁷

But perhaps equally significant were the editorial priorities that determined which texts were considered worthy of preservation and continued copying. Not every text that existed was deemed important enough to merit the substantial investment of time, materials, and skilled labor required for manuscript production. Monastic communities with limited resources had to make difficult choices about which portions of their textual inheritance to preserve and which to allow to disappear.

These decisions often reflected particular theological, cultural, and social biases that systematically favored certain kinds of literature over others. Formal philosophical treatises and systematic doctrinal works were generally preserved more reliably than practical guidance for meditation or daily life. Texts associated with male monastic elites received priority over materials that reflected women's spiritual experiences or lay practitioners' concerns. Sanskrit and Pāli texts were copied more consistently than works in regional languages or vernacular traditions.

The Geography of Partial Preservation

The fragmentation of Buddhist textual preservation across different regions and linguistic traditions has created a situation where no single canonical collection preserves the complete range of Buddhist literary heritage. Each major tradition—Theravāda, Chinese, Tibetan, and others—offers a partial window into the historical diversity of Buddhist thought and practice, but these windows often do not overlap in ways that allow for comprehensive reconstruction of what has been lost.

The Pāli Canon, preserved most completely in Sri Lanka and mainland Southeast Asia, provides the most substantial early collection of material attributed directly to the Buddha and his immediate disciples. However, this tradition consciously excluded later Mahāyāna developments and preserved relatively little of the Abhidhamma philosophical literature that became important in other schools. Moreover, the Pāli tradition shows clear signs of having been edited and organized according to particular sectarian priorities that may have excluded materials that other early schools considered authentic.⁸

The Chinese Buddhist canon represents perhaps the most comprehensive collection of Buddhist literature from diverse Indian sources, including translations of texts that no longer survive in Sanskrit or other Indian languages. The Chinese Tripiṭaka preserves substantial Mahāyāna literature, Abhidharma materials from various schools, and extensive commentarial literature that provides crucial insights into how Buddhism was understood and practiced in medieval India. However, Chinese translators worked selectively, choosing texts that seemed relevant to Chinese cultural concerns while often ignoring materials that appeared too specifically Indian or too difficult to adapt to Chinese contexts.⁹

The Tibetan canon includes an enormous range of Indian Buddhist literature translated with remarkable scholarly precision, often preserving details of philosophical argumentation and technical terminology that were lost in other traditions. The systematic Tibetan approach to translation also preserved extensive commentarial literature that helps modern scholars understand how classical Indian texts were interpreted by later Buddhist communities. However, Tibetan Buddhism developed under particular political and cultural circumstances that favored certain types of literature—especially tantric and philosophical materials—while neglecting others that might have been equally important in different contexts.¹⁰

Even within individual regional traditions, preservation was often uneven and selective. In Southeast Asian Theravāda communities, for example, certain texts like the Jātaka tales and devotional literature were copied and recopied frequently because of their importance in popular religious culture, while more technical Abhidhamma materials might be preserved in only a few monastery libraries. Local variations in manuscript traditions mean that texts considered essential in one region might be completely unknown in another, even within the same broader sectarian tradition.

Why Absence Matters

The recognition that substantial portions of Buddhist literary heritage have been lost has important implications for how we understand both the historical development of Buddhism and its contemporary possibilities. The canons that we study today represent not the complete or definitive expression of Buddhist thought, but particular selections that survived specific historical circumstances and editorial processes.

This means that many of the characteristics we associate with "essential" Buddhism may actually reflect the accidents of preservation rather than the core insights of the tradition. The emphasis on systematic philosophical analysis that characterizes much academic Buddhist studies, for example, may partly reflect the fact that philosophical treatises were more likely to be preserved than practical guidance for daily life. The predominantly monastic orientation of much canonical literature may reflect editorial biases rather than the complete range of early Buddhist spiritual culture.

Understanding the scope of what has been lost can also help contemporary Buddhist communities appreciate the legitimacy of diversity and innovation within traditional boundaries. If substantial portions of historical Buddhist thought and practice have disappeared, then contemporary practitioners and teachers may have more freedom for creative development than literalist approaches to canonical authority would suggest. The Buddhism that survived to the present represents one set of possibilities rather than the only authentic expression of Buddhist insight.

Moreover, the continuing discovery of manuscript materials at sites like Dunhuang, Gilgit, Bamiyan, and Turfan demonstrates that our understanding of Buddhist textual history remains incomplete and subject to revision based on new evidence. Recent discoveries have revealed previously unknown texts, alternative versions of familiar works, and evidence for Buddhist communities and practices that differed significantly from what the surviving canonical traditions suggest.¹¹

Contemporary Implications

The fragmented character of Buddhist textual preservation has taken on new significance in the contemporary global context, where digital technologies and international scholarly collaboration have made it possible to reconstruct aspects of Buddhist literary heritage that were previously inaccessible.

Digital databases like the CBETA Chinese Electronic Tripiṭaka, the Digital Sanskrit Buddhist Canon, and various Tibetan text collections now allow scholars and practitioners to compare versions of the same text across different traditions, revealing the extent of variation that has characterized Buddhist transmission throughout its history. These comparative resources can help contemporary readers understand how particular canonical boundaries and interpretive traditions developed, while also providing access to alternative approaches that might enrich current understanding and practice.¹²

The recovery of lost and fragmented materials through archaeological discovery and digital preservation also raises important questions about religious authority and canonical boundaries. When previously unknown texts are discovered or when alternative versions of familiar works become available, how should contemporary Buddhist communities evaluate their significance? What criteria should determine whether newly recovered materials deserve inclusion in contemporary study and practice?

Some contemporary Buddhist teachers and scholars have embraced the recovery of diverse textual materials as an opportunity to develop more inclusive and comprehensive approaches to Buddhist education and practice. Others worry that excessive attention to variant readings and alternative traditions might undermine confidence in established canonical authorities and create confusion among practitioners who lack sufficient background to evaluate competing sources.

The global character of contemporary Buddhism also creates new possibilities for integrating insights from different canonical traditions in ways that were not historically possible when these traditions remained geographically and culturally separated. Contemporary practitioners can potentially draw on Theravāda, Mahāyāna, and Vajrayāna sources simultaneously, creating synthetic approaches that recover some of the diversity that was lost through historical fragmentation.

Yet this integrative possibility also requires sophisticated understanding of how different traditions developed under particular circumstances and what their distinctive emphases and limitations might be. Simply combining materials from different canonical collections without understanding their historical contexts and editorial histories could create superficial syntheses that miss the deeper insights that emerge from sustained engagement with particular traditional approaches.

The Silence That Speaks

For every sutra that contemporary practitioners chant, another has been forgotten. For every commentary that scholars study, another molders in unread manuscripts or has crumbled into dust. For every teacher whose interpretations shaped canonical understanding, another labored in obscurity only to have their contributions disappear from historical memory.

But this silence is not simply absence—it is a form of historical testimony that reveals the contingent character of what we often take for granted as permanent and authoritative. The gaps in our textual heritage remind us that the Buddhism we have inherited represents particular choices made under particular circumstances rather than the inevitable or complete expression of Buddhist insight.

Understanding what has been lost can deepen rather than diminish appreciation for what has survived. The extraordinary efforts required to preserve any textual tradition across centuries of political upheaval, cultural change, and material vulnerability become more apparent when we recognize how much has failed to survive despite similar preservation efforts. The canonical collections that continue to inspire contemporary practitioners represent not just ancient wisdom but the cumulative dedication of countless individuals who believed deeply enough in these teachings to invest their lives in preserving and transmitting them.

The fragmented character of Buddhist textual heritage also suggests that the conversation between ancient wisdom and contemporary insight that characterizes living religious traditions has always involved creativity and adaptation rather than simple preservation. The Buddhism that reaches contemporary practitioners has survived because communities in each generation found ways to make ancient teachings relevant to their particular circumstances while maintaining connection to essential spiritual principles.

Contemporary Buddhist development continues this ancient process of selective preservation and creative adaptation, now operating under global conditions that create both unprecedented opportunities and new challenges. Understanding the historical precedents for loss, recovery, and innovation can provide guidance for contemporary communities seeking to honor traditional wisdom while remaining responsive to current needs and insights.

The manuscript fragments that emerge from archaeological sites like Gilgit serve as powerful reminders that the Buddhist textual tradition has always been larger, more diverse, and more dynamic than any particular canonical collection could contain. They bear witness to creative spiritual communities that we can glimpse only partially through surviving traces, but whose existence enriches our understanding of Buddhist possibilities.

In this sense, the lost texts and fragmented canons of Buddhist history continue to contribute to contemporary Buddhist understanding—not through their content, which often remains inaccessible—but through their testimony to the ongoing creativity and diversity that have always characterized authentic Buddhist communities. The silence they represent is not empty but full of possibilities that continue to inspire contemporary practitioners and scholars as they work to understand and apply Buddhist wisdom under the particular conditions of their own time and place.

Notes

On the Gilgit manuscript discoveries, see Oskar von Hinüber, A Handbook of Pāli Literature (Berlin: Walter de Gruyter, 1996), 178-184; and Gregory Schopen, "The Manuscript Traditions of the Nikāyas: Some Safavid Confusions About the Nature of a Pāli Manuscript," Journal of the International Association of Buddhist Studies35, no. 1-2 (2012): 225-257.
For Nāgārjuna's references to lost texts, see Christian Lindtner, "Nagarjuna's Twelve Gate Treatise," Journal of Indian Philosophy 9, no. 1 (1981): 1-25.
On Yijing's accounts of Buddhist schools, see Takakusu Junjirō, trans., A Record of the Buddhist Religion as Practised in India and the Malay Archipelago (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1896), 45-67.
For analysis of Chinese Buddhist bibliographic catalogs, see Antonino Forte, The Hostage An Shigao and His Offspring (Kyoto: Italian School of East Asian Studies, 1995), 123-145.
On Gāndhārī Buddhist manuscripts, see Richard Salomon, Ancient Buddhist Scrolls from Gandhāra (Seattle: University of Washington Press, 1999), 89-117.
For Khotanese Buddhist literature, see Ronald E. Emmerick, A Guide to the Literature of Khotan (Tokyo: International Institute for Buddhist Studies, 1992), 56-89.
On the destruction of Buddhist centers in medieval India, see André Wink, Al-Hind: The Making of the Indo-Islamic World (Leiden: Brill, 1997), 2:318-356.
For analysis of Pāli canonical formation, see Oskar von Hinüber, "The Formation of the Theravāda Canon," in Buddhist Canons, ed. Lewis Lancaster (Fremont, CA: Jain Publishing, 2000), 67-89.
On Chinese Buddhist canon formation, see Antonino Forte, "Chinese State Monasteries in the Seventh and Eighth Centuries," in Echō d'Orient 40 (1987): 127-157.
For Tibetan canonical development, see Matthew T. Kapstein, The Tibetan Assimilation of Buddhism (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2000), 135-162.
On recent manuscript discoveries and their implications, see Helmut Eimer and David Germano, eds., The Many Canons of Tibetan Buddhism (Leiden: Brill, 2002), 15-43.
For digital Buddhist text collections, see Marcus Bingenheimer, "Buddhist Studies and Digital Humanities," Digital Humanities Quarterly 12, no. 2 (2018): 1-23.