The Nomad Script

The Mongolian language and script survived to differing degrees in each region. Mongols in Russia by and large speak Russian and write in Cyrillic. Under the heavy thumb of the Soviet Union, the Republic of Mongolia was forced to abandon its traditional script in 1946 and also use Cyrillic to write Mongolian. Only in China did the script survive, partly through the influence of traditional Chinese calligraphy, partly through the widespread practice of Tibetan Buddhism, and partly because of the characteristics of the Mongolian script itself — some of the world’s most striking and beautiful calligraphy.

One of the many fascinating features of the script is its built-in calligraphic quality. Every letter is composed of one of six foundational strokes, known as head, tooth, stem, stomach, bow, and tail. Moreover, each letter has three forms: initial (used when it comes at the beginning of a word), medial (used when it comes in the middle of a word) and final (I’ll leave you to guess what that means).

In almost every case, both the initial and final forms have a certain flourish, whereas the medial tends to be simpler and more contained. The effect is to allow the writer to start each word with a kind of fanfare and to sign off with a swoosh — an effect that is amplified and made more expressive when using a brush. The tradition of writing each word in a single continuous motion gives both energy and flow; writing becomes not a sequence of disparate phonetic symbols but a drama, an offering.

This tradition and these skills — like calligraphies in many other cultures around the world — ebbed in the early 21st century. In 2011, a proponent of the script wrote, “Traditionally, mentors select the best students and train them to be calligraphers over a period of five to eight years. Students and teachers bond for life and continue to stimulate each other’s artistic endeavors. [But the] rate of social transformation, urbanization, and globalization have led to a significant drop in the number of young calligraphers. At present, only three middle-aged scholars voluntarily train the small community of just over 20 young calligraphers.”

Matters would get worse, though. In 2020, the Chinese government announced that schoolchildren in Inner Mongolia — the last surviving home of the Mongolian script — would now be schooled in Chinese. The response was immediate and unique. Mongols throughout the region protested the order — with calligraphy. Walls sported slogans in mural form, and beautifully hand-painted banners were paraded through the streets.

This artistic resistance did no good. “The Mongolian language and script as medium of instruction have been completely banned since September 2023 in all educational systems throughout Southern Mongolia,” reported Enghebatu Togochog, director of the Southern Mongolian Human Rights Information Center. Teaching of Mongolian as a foreign language was promised by the authorities, but this promise has largely gone unfulfilled, especially as many of the teachers now hired for the region speak only Chinese.

The fact that this is not the end of the story says a great deal about calligraphy itself, which in the Eastern hemisphere in particular means much more than exquisite penmanship, building instead on the tradition that the letter is both a sacred symbol and an art object. Mongolian calligraphy combines poetics of both writing and art and, in doing so, invites the calligrapher to use the medium in ways that are both personal and universal.

Nowhere is this better illustrated than in the work of Tamir Samandbadraa Purev, an award-winning artist who has dedicated his life to Mongolian calligraphy — exhibiting, developing, and teaching his art in numerous countries in Europe and Asia, working mainly on paper with ink or on ceramic and porcelain.

“A calligrapher is also a philosopher,” he has written. “Being a calligrapher is more than just writing beautiful letters. It is a meditative practice that requires deep concentration and focus. It is also a powerful way to share ideas with others.

“In many ways, calligraphy is akin to philosophy. Both calligraphy and philosophy require us to slow down and to pay attention to the details. They also require us to think critically about the world around us and to express our thoughts in a clear and concise way.”