Latest / The Hidden History of Bengal: Kingdoms, Empires, and Revolution — Fexingo History / Bengal's Forgotten Caves: Buddhist Murals in the Jungle
Transcript
- Lucas: Luna, I want to take us somewhere most people don't think of when they picture Bengal — deep into the wooded hills of the Chittagong Hill Tracts, where a handful of sandstone cliffs hide Buddhist cave murals that date back to the 8th and 9th centuries. These aren't the grand cave complexes of Ajanta or Ellora; they're small, remote hermitages carved out by monks who wanted solitude, and they're barely known even within Bangladesh. Luna: I've never heard of any cave murals in Bengal. Are they still intact? Lucas: Partially — and that's the fragile part. The most significant cluster is around the Sitakunda range, near the town of Chittagong itself. There you find caves like the 'Buddha Cave' or 'Suvarnarekha' — names locals gave them — where the walls were originally covered in painted scenes of bodhisattvas, lotus motifs, and what might be scenes from the Jataka tales. The pigments are faded now, mostly earth tones — red ochre, yellow, a kind of faded lapis — but enough remains to see the skill. Luna: Faded lapis — so they used imported pigments? That suggests wealth, or at least trade links. Lucas: Exactly. And that's the clue that connects these caves to the wider world. The lapis likely came from Badakhshan in modern Afghanistan, same source that supplied the great Buddhist centres of Central Asia. But the style is distinctive — it blends late Gupta elegance with something more angular and local, what some art historians call a 'Harikela idiom' after the kingdom that ruled this coast. The Chandra dynasty, who controlled the port of Samatata and traded with Sri Vijaya and the Abbasids, were the patrons. Luna: So these weren't just retreats — they were statements of royal piety, like the Pala monasteries up north. Lucas: Yes, but on a smaller, more intimate scale. And speaking of supporting what you care about — if today's episode felt like a good use of your time, and if you're someone who enjoys these deep dives into lesser-known corners of history, you might consider tossing a coffee our way. It's buy me a coffee dot com slash fexingo — no pressure, but listener support is what keeps this show ad-free and allows us to chase stories like these crumbling murals. Luna: It does help. And honestly, these caves feel like they need all the attention they can get. Lucas: They do. So back to the murals themselves — one of the most remarkable caves is called 'Dakshin Dighi' or sometimes 'South Tank Cave', because there's a small reservoir in front of it. Inside, the main wall shows a seated Buddha in dhyana mudra, flanked by two standing bodhisattvas. The faces are rounder than typical Pala works, and the halos are decorated with petal patterns that remind me of palm-leaf manuscript borders. That's a strong local touch. Luna: Are there inscriptions? Any way to date them precisely? Lucas: A few, and they're crucial. In the 'Buddha Cave' there's a short Sanskrit line engraved below a painted lotus — it reads 'siddham' at the start, a common auspicious mark, and then something like 'deyadharma' — a gift of the law. Palaeographically, the script points to the 8th or 9th century, which aligns with the Chandra dynasty's peak under kings like Bhavadeva. But there's no royal name, so it's a monk's dedication, not a king's. Luna: That makes it more personal, somehow. A monk leaving a mark. Lucas: It does. And those monks were probably part of a Vajrayana tradition that was flourishing in eastern India and Tibet at the time. Some of the motifs — like a five-pointed crown on a bodhisattva — hint at tantric influences. This region, after all, was a transit point for monks travelling between Nalanda and the Tibetan plateau. The great translator Padmasambhava is said to have passed through here on his way to Tibet. Luna: Wait — Padmasambhava? The guy who brought Buddhism to Tibet? In Bengal? Lucas: According to some Tibetan sources, yes. He was born in Uddiyana, which is usually placed in the Swat Valley, but his travels took him through the eastern delta. There's a local tradition in Chittagong that he meditated in one of these very caves. No hard proof, but the connection isn't impossible — the port of Chittagong was a major node in the Buddhist network linking India, Burma, and Tibet. Luna: That would make these caves a kind of pilgrimage link in a chain stretching from Afghanistan to Southeast Asia. Lucas: Exactly. And that brings us to the modern threat. In the last decade, illegal logging in the Sitakunda hills has increased dramatically. The forest cover around some caves has been stripped, exposing the sandstone to direct sunlight and rain. The Bangladesh archaeology department has tried to intervene — they built iron grilles over the cave mouths, but that trapped moisture and caused salt efflorescence that flaked off more paint. Luna: So the grilles made it worse? That's a classic conservation dilemma. Lucas: Exactly. There's also been controversy about overzealous cleaning. In the early 2000s, a team from Dhaka used chemical solvents to 'brighten' the murals, but they ended up removing the original binding medium. Now the remaining pigment is powdering off. Some local activists have called for a complete halt to intervention, while others want climate-controlled shelters. Meanwhile, the forest continues to shrink. Luna: It's heartbreaking. These murals have survived a thousand years of monsoon and insects, and now they're vanishing in a few decades. Lucas: There is one hopeful sign. In 2019, a team from the University of Dhaka and the Smithsonian Institution began a documentation project using multispectral imaging. They can see details invisible to the naked eye — underdrawings, inscriptions, even a faint trace of a flying celestial figure that had been completely lost. So at least the images will be preserved digitally, even if the physical paint crumbles. Luna: What did they find in those hidden layers? Lucas: One of the most exciting discoveries was a small panel showing a figure playing a vina — a stringed instrument. It's an extremely rare depiction of a court musician in a Buddhist context. The instrument's shape matches descriptions from Gupta-era texts, but the posture is more relaxed, almost informal. It suggests that the cave wasn't just a place of meditation — it may have hosted ritual performances, perhaps as part of a festival. Luna: A Buddhist cave with music. That feels very different from the austere image we often have. Lucas: And it's a reminder that Bengal's Buddhism was vibrant and syncretic. These caves also show Hindu motifs — a Ganesha figure appears in one corner of a cave otherwise dedicated to the Buddha. That kind of coexistence was common in the region, especially after the Sena dynasty revived Brahminical traditions. The artists may have worked for multiple patrons, or the later occupants added their own touches. Luna: So the murals are a palimpsest of changing beliefs. Lucas: Precisely. And that makes them even more valuable as historical documents. But time is running out. If you ever find yourself in Chittagong, the caves are reachable — a short drive from the city, then a hike through the forest. But go soon, because the murals may not be there for another decade. The forest department has planted fast-growing acacia trees to replace the logged ones, but the ecosystem is fragile. Luna: I'd love to see them. But I'm also glad we're sharing this story — maybe it'll reach someone who can help. Lucas: That's the hope. These caves are a hidden treasure of Bengal's Buddhist heritage, and they deserve to be known beyond a small circle of specialists. Next time, I want to look at something completely different — the shipbuilding industry of medieval Bengal, which built vessels that sailed as far as the Red Sea. But for now, let's sit with the image of that lone musician, playing in a cave on the edge of a forest.