A seismic shift in Tibetan history set the stage: following the 1959 exile of Tibet’s spiritual leadership, thousands of monks and lay practitioners found refuge in India, Nepal and Bhutan. Carrying centuries of Gelug scholarship and Tsongkhapa’s rigorous monastic codes, they established monasteries such as Drepung, Ganden and Sera in exile. These became springboards for teaching missions across Asia and, soon enough, Europe and North America.

The Dalai Lama’s charismatic outreach has been nothing short of magnetic. Beginning in the 1970s, tours through the West introduced Gelug-style meditation and ethical philosophy to curious audiences—from Ivy League campuses to grassroots yoga studios. When His Holiness engaged with figures like Martin Scorsese or spoke at the Mind & Life Institute alongside neuroscientists, Gelug wisdom hit the ground running into mainstream culture. Today’s mindfulness boom may owe as much to secular apps like Insight Timer as it does to the original Tibetan techniques, but both trace roots back to those early Gelug emissaries.

Translation projects—led by pioneers such as Geoffrey Samuel and the 14th Dalai Lama’s own writers—opened pristine doctrinal texts to English, French and beyond, creating a bridge for scholars and seekers alike. The surge of digital dharma talks during the COVID-19 pandemic, live-streamed from Dharamsala to tens of thousands worldwide, proved that compassion teachings spread like wildfire when people need them most.

In bustling metropolises from London to Tokyo, over 250 Gelug centers now offer structured study programs, weekend retreats and youth camps. The global following today owes its momentum to a blend of monastic discipline, youthful enthusiasm, academic collaboration and the timeless promise that inner peace remains possible—even in a small world spinning ever faster.