“Buddhism for the Human Realm” and Taiwanese Democracy

André Laliberté

The relevance of religious institutions to the process of democratization in Taiwan represents a marginal area of study in Western scholarship, with the exception of the literature on the Presbyterian Church. This perhaps reflects the fact that, until recently, research in Chinese has not paid much attention to the role of religious movements in the transition toward democracy. One of the most glaring gaps in our knowledge, curiously, involves one of the most important religious traditions of Taiwan, Buddhism, and no scholar has written extensively on the involvement of organizations belonging to that tradition in contemporary Taiwanese politics.

This may be about to change, in the wake of new research on the history of Buddhism in Taiwan since the Qing Dynasty, and studies on large lay Buddhist organizations emerging during the period of democratic transition. Some important questions about the significance of these organizations to the political process deserve to be addressed. In particular, not only were all Buddhist organizations of importance in Taiwan silent during the period of martial law (1947-87), but also their voice was conspicuously unheard during the process of democratization ushered in throughout the 1990s.

Considering that some other religious institutions, such as the Presbyterian Church, expressed clearly their views during the martial law period and after, why have most Buddhist organizations shunned political involvement? What factors prevent Buddhist organizations in Taiwan from joining other actors in the process of democratic consolidation? Finally, assuming that these organizations might become engaged politically, what kind of policies would they promote and what kind of ideals would they propagate?

Taiwanese Buddhist Organizations and Democratic Transition: Silence and Absence

The behavior of Buddhist organizations in Taiwan in the last two decades can best be described as indifferent to politics, in general, and to the process of democratization, in particular. Buddhist leaders have avoided opposing the government since the Nationalist Party (the Guomindang, or GMD) established its control over Taiwan in 1945 and they have maintained that attitude toward the Democratic Progressive Party (DPP) government. Sometimes, this indifference was of a clearly conservative, if not outright reactionary, nature: this much was clear when the leaders of the Buddhist Association of the Republic of China (ROC)--the BAROC or Zhongguo Fojiaohui-- in 1982, criticized calls for the lifting of martial law and the creation of political parties.

Since the beginning of political reforms in the mid-1980s, only a few Buddhist individuals have joined other actors in the consolidation of democracy. One of the most noted among them, Zhaohui (Chao Fei), is a famous nun who has criticized the authoritarian tendencies she observes in Chinese societies. Chen Lü’an (Chen Li-an), a lay Buddhist who served as the first civilian National Defense Minister in 1990, left the GMD and ran as an independent candidate in the 1996 presidential election. Wu Boxiong (Wu Po-hsiung), currently head of the ROC chapter of the Buddha Light International Organization (BLIA, or Guoji Foguanghui ), is a popular Hakka politician who served before as interior minister and former GMD secretary general under successive Li Denghui (Lee Teng-hui) administrations.

Besides these individual initiatives, no major Taiwanese Buddhist organization has expressed support for the process of democratic consolidation currently underway. Yet, this indifference to politics should not be construed as proof that the monks and nuns heading Taiwanese Buddhist organizations are aloof from this-worldly concerns. Quite the contrary. The spiritual leaders of the two largest Taiwanese Buddhist organizations, Foguangshan and the Buddhist Compassion Relief Tzu Chi Foundation (hereafter Ciji, or Ciji Gongdehui), have, in fact, overseen over the years the growth of their monastic communities into large institutions, running their own hospitals and clinics, universities, publishing houses, and television channels. With a membership exceeding one million people for Foguangshan and two millions for Ciji, in a Buddhist population of 4.9 million, these organizations represent a formidable source of political capital.

The main Taiwanese Buddhist organizations did not oppose the government when it enforced its authoritarian rule up to 1989, and they did not come forward to support democratic consolidation, either by sponsoring candidates or by voicing their opinions on public policies. They did not come forward publicly to express support or their compassion for the victims of the government’s repression during the major events that marked that process of democratization, such as the Gaoxiong (Kaohsiung) incident in 1979. However, they did not oppose the founding of the Democratic Progressive Party, or Minjindang, in 1986.

Two gestures by Xingyun (Hsing Yun), the founder of the Foguangshan monastic order, briefly suggested that some Taiwanese Buddhist organizations were about to join other popular movements in pushing for the consolidation of democracy: the support lent to the candidacy of Chen Lü’an in the presidential election of 1996, and participation in a grass-roots campaign that led to the downfall of the Lian Zhan (Lien Chan) cabinet in 1997. Subsequent events, however, would reveal that this involvement of Foguangshan was not meant to oppose an authoritarian regime (by 1995, after all, Taiwan was entering the stage of democratic consolidation), but rather, to express his reservation toward liberalizing trends that seemed to go too far in the eyes of Xingyun and his followers.

Hence, after the resignation of Premier Lian Zhan, Xingyun did not oppose the GMD and continued to work closely with the GMD Central Committee--in which he had served since 1986--and even accepted an appointment by the cabinet-level Overseas Chinese Affairs Commission (OCAC, or Qiaoweihui) in 1997. Xingyun did not sponsor any opposition candidate during the presidential election of 2000, and after Chen Shui-bian won the election in March of that year, the new president made certain he would pay a visit to Foguangshan. This was recognition from the DPP leadership that Buddhist voters are an important constituency to woo. After the DPP won a plurality of the vote in the Legislative Yuan election of 2001, and after Taiwan became a truly multiparty system with the consolidation of four parties, Buddhist organizations found a new structure in which they could exercise considerable influence if they wished to do so.

The limited success of candidates who have been endorsed by Buddhist leaders leaves open the question about the influence of the latter on their follower’s political behavior and electoral choices. Although BLIA members were briefly mobilized in 1997, they have refrained from intervening openly in politics in the following years. Xingyun has maintained good relations with the GMD since Lian Zhan’s resignation, and has never intervened in subsequent electoral campaigns to sponsor either independent candidates or candidates affiliated with parties that have maintained or developed good relations with the BLIA, such as the New Party (NP, or Xindang ), or, more recently, the People’s First Party (PFP, or Qinmindang). Meanwhile, Xingyun has never publicly criticized either the DPP or the Taiwan Solidarity Union (TSU, or Taiwan Tuanjie Lianmeng), the party sponsored by Li Denghui.

The impact of Xingyun on the political behavior of lay Buddhists remains difficult to pinpoint because his views have not been consistent over the years and two important figures close to him, Chen Lü’an and Wu Boxiong, were involved in opposite camps during the 1996 election. With respect to Ciji, no influence can be inferred from its leader, except, perhaps, an indifference toward the entire process of electoral competition. For instance, the background of its leader, Zhengyan (Cheng Yen), as a “person from this province” (Benshengren), has never translated into the suggestion on her part that she is somewhat closer to the “pan-green” camp of the DPP and TSU, identified with Benshengren assertiveness, than she is to the two parties of the “pan-blue” camp, the GMD and the PFP, which stand for the status quo.

Opinions expressed by Ciji workers, volunteers, and commissioners over the years reflect this: they express a wide diversity of views concerning the DPP, Taiwanese independence, and other issues. This profession of neutrality reflects the belief expressed by Zhengyan herself that politics are too “complex.” Clearly, an involvement in the emotional issue of national identity could prove threatening for the organization’s cohesion and reputation of impartiality vis-à-vis the population.

The neutrality or the indifference expressed so far, however, should not lead to the conclusion that Taiwanese Buddhists are irrelevant to the politics of the island: the assiduity with which politicians court their leaders, after all, demonstrates otherwise. The absence of surveys on voting preference according to religious beliefs precludes for the moment the profiling of average Buddhist voters and the policies they would likely prefer. Could survey data on electoral choice, party identification, and candidate preference, in light of various demographic attributes such as class, gender, ethnic and regional origins, education, and age group, help predict the political behavior of Buddhist organizations when the demographic attributes of each become known?

Even if these figures were available, such information might not produce a portrait representing the views of most Buddhist voters, because, as Ding Renjie’s (Ting Ren-chieh’s) study of Ciji illustrates, there exist different categories of membership in such organizations, associated with varying degrees of commitment. Keeping in mind this caveat, one fact can nonetheless be asserted: the demographic characteristics of Foguangshan and Ciji do not appear to differ significantly from each other and both organizations appeal to the same mainstream constituencies of middle-class Taiwanese.

The two organizations rely on massive lay support all over the island, women are very active in both organizations, and both attract Taiwanese of all ethnic backgrounds. Overall, these demographic characteristics of the two organizations raise an intriguing paradox: they are not distinct enough to explain the difference between the BLIA’s greater political assertiveness in 1996 and 1997. This issue, however, is too complicated to be discussed within the limits of this chapter. Therefore, the following sections focus on the motives behind the generally tacit support that Buddhist organizations gave to previous authoritarian regimes and the organizations’ current absence in the ongoing process of democratic consolidation.

Understanding the Attitude of Buddhist Organizations

The extreme prudence displayed by contemporary Taiwanese Buddhist organizations contrasts with the more assertive, if not outright radical, attitude exhibited by other Buddhists in the Chinese mainland and Taiwan since the turn of the twentieth century. Even the most revered figure among the Buddhist mainstream in Taiwan, Taixu (Tai Hsu), a noted monk, was politically active during the Republican era. Considered, today, in the People’s Republic as a Chinese Buddhist equivalent to Martin Luther, he befriended in his lifetime socialists and anarchists, opposed conservative elites within the Buddhist monastic order, encouraged the development of a strong laity, and favored internal democracy within Chinese Buddhism.

Many other lay Buddhists living in Taixu’s time also believed that their faith represented a source of renewal for China and an alternative to the declining Confucian order of the late Qing Dynasty. Individuals such as Zhang Bingling, Liang Qichao, and the young Liang Shuming� had reflected on important political problems faced by their compatriots, if not by humankind as a whole, on the basis of their own knowledge of Buddhism. Although nationalism and socialism would quickly supersede the idealist views of these thinkers and hold sway among most Chinese intellectuals, their effort demonstrated that Buddhist philosophy does not, a priori, shun vigorous discussion of down-to-earth political matters. The same could be observed for Taiwan, even when it was under Japanese colonial rule.

Some individuals did not shun controversies that could even endanger their lives, such as the monk, Zhengfeng (aka Lin Qiuwu), who went as far as espousing Marxism and Taiwanese self-determination. However, after the Republic of China asserted its authority in Taiwan in 1945, and after Taixu himself passed away in 1947, no prominent Buddhist leader has come close to adopting such views. Throughout the period of martial law and since the transition to democracy got under way, no contemporary prominent Buddhist leader has emerged to hold views that resemble the activist stance of Taixu, despite the claims made by most of them that they follow his theological orientations. Buddhist theology, “Chineseness,” or authoritarianism cannot account for this behavior.

Buddhist theology has not prevented adherents of that faith in other parts of East Asia from becoming involved in the politics of their societies. Buddhists in many Asian countries have used their faith as a justification for their advocacy of social change, if not the establishment of a new political order. Many of them, from Thailand to Japan, even have gone so far as to create their own lay organizations or political parties for that purpose. Their faith has inspired political goals that vary from country to country. In Thailand, Sulak Sivaraksa has attempted to launch a critique of unfettered consumerism in his project of Dhammic socialism. In Japan, the Society for the Creation of Value (Soka Gakkai) represents a support group for the New Party for Clean Politics (Shin Komeito, or New Komeito), the third largest party in Japan, and works to promote legislation emphasizing peace, environmental protection, and social welfare.

In Vietnam, the United Buddhist Church has led mass resistance against corrupt authoritarian governments and American intervention.� These different groups’ behaviors serve to demonstrate that Buddhism is not indifferent to this-worldly concerns. In fact, Buddhist theology does not inspire any specific policy: although most of the politically active Buddhist devotees pursue their objectives through peaceful means, some others, in Japan, Sri Lanka, and other countries, have adopted aggressive behavior in the promotion of their objectives. During the first half of the twentieth century, for instance, Suzuki, a Zen Master, condoned the aggressive policy of the Japanese militarist government. Even more recently, Buddhist monks have been involved in the Sri Lankan civil war. Thus, Buddhist theology does not preclude nor encourage political participation, but it also does not provide guidance about the direction taken by Buddhists who would become involved in politics.

Putative characteristics of Chinese culture are not more convincing than Buddhist theology as explanations for the apolitical behavior of Taiwanese Buddhist organizations. Besides the question of defining the characteristics of “Chineseness,” the behaviors of other religious institutions refute that claim. Although one may argue that politically-active religious organizations, such as Presbyterian Church in Taiwan, represent an exception because of their privileged transnational connections and the support they can gain from coreligionists in the West, the political involvement of other organizations without this type of external linkage rebuts the suggestion that Chinese religious institutions, in general, are not interested in politics.

A major trend of Chinese politics well known to historians is the pervasive involvement of traditional religious institutions in politics: this participation has ranged from the support bestowed to the state by the institutions of local diffused religions to the toppling of dynasties with the help, if not at the instigation, of sectarian movements. Taiwan has not experienced any such religious-inspired upheaval since 1945, but one major religious institution entirely indigenous to China, the Yiguandao (Way of Pervasive Unity), played a significant role in the process of democratization in Taiwan during the 1990s that remains largely ignored in the West: mobilization of voters by the sect has helped GMD candidates belonging to the reformist factions led by Li Denghui to win local elections that thereby ensured consolidation of the reformist wing of that party. This case, as well as growing evidence emerging from the People’s Republic about the role of religious institutions in local politics, demonstrates that the Chinese identity of Buddhist institutions in Taiwan cannot explain their quietist attitude.

The legacy of an authoritarian government--such as the four decades of GMD rule under martial law--can leave many different kinds of imprints, ranging from the nostalgia for previous arrangements, in which specific institutions stood to benefit in terms of authority, to the mistrust of any government, which results from an institutional memory of persecution. Clearly, this double bind is relevant to Taiwanese Buddhist organizations. Hence, until 1987, the BAROC benefited considerably from the corporatist structure imposed by the GMD because it was illegal for any other Buddhist institution to be established outside of its authority.

The leaders of that organization, not surprisingly, had no reason to support the unraveling of a structure that had favored them until then and it is not surprising that, throughout the 1990s as the process of democratization unfolded, the BAROC leaders consistently asked for more control by the central government over religious affairs, hoping to strengthen their declining position within the Buddhist community by maintaining their role as custodians of the faith. The effect of the institutional memory of

authoritarianism on the Buddhist organizations’ lukewarm support for democratization, however, may not emerge as a convincing explanation when one keeps in mind that state repression of religious activities, primarily through the provincial government’s police administration, affected Yiguandao, the Soka Gakkai, the Presbyterian Church, and so on, but not Buddhist organizations, per se. Evidence of this high degree of tolerance from the GMD for Buddhism is the fact that other Buddhist institutions were established following 1966, along with the BAROC, despite the corporatist arrangement enforced in Taiwan. Another legacy left by authoritarianism, however, may have had a more lasting

effect: the structure of Buddhist organizations. Hence, the leadership of Ciji is based entirely on the charismatic leadership of Zhengyan, who is helped by a board of directors accountable to no one else. The Foguangshan monastic order, which supervises the BLIA, is also a hierarchy: leadership succession is determined by the deliberations of the eleven-member Committee for Religious Affairs. This adoption of authoritarian structures by Buddhist organizations suggests that important elements of the explanation for their political behavior may reside within the organizations themselves.

To sum up, theology, “Chineseness,” and authoritarianism are all insufficient, when each is taken alone, to explain the lack of enthusiasm displayed by Taiwanese Buddhist organizations toward democratization; however, the ways in which the leaders of these organizations have interacted with these factors may provide a better explanation. Studies undertaken about the behavior of religious organizations in the United States have suggested that the political stands they adopt are shaped by the preferences of their leaders, who are granted a legitimacy that transcends external constraints, and, therefore, are able to mediate for their followers concerning the impact of theology,

the social environment, and political circumstances. Yet, these findings have left open one important question: To what extent have social and political contexts shaped the preferences of these leaders? Hence, in the context of Republican China, the reformist ideas of Taixu and the modernist views of lay Buddhists emerged in the conditions of social upheaval which arose during the time in which they lived. Conversely, the conservative climate in which the GMD exercised its rule in Taiwan following 1945, and the

concern of many Buddhists for the survival of their religion in China, especially during the Cultural Revolution, contributed together to encourage a drift toward a more cautious attitude on the part of Buddhists in Taiwan, who looked at the island’s society as the repository of Chinese traditions. The acceleration of democratization in Taiwan, while not changing the strategic situation of the island vis-à-vis mainland China, has nonetheless significantly transformed the domestic situation and offers

considerable opportunities for any group that wants to become involved politically. As discussed above, however, the significant changes in Taiwan’s political system have not led to a noticeable change in the political behavior of Buddhist organizations. Is it because the changes are too recent? Or is it because the leaders of Taiwanese Buddhist organizations believe that the current transformations are only cosmetic and fail to address their concerns? In other words, under which conditions could the interests of these organizations’ members and the ideas of their leaders change? In an attempt to answer this question, the next section looks at the ways in which recent changes in Taiwanese society and in its political system affect the political views of the leaders of Buddhist organizations.

Understanding the Muted Response of Buddhist Organizations to Democratization

While theology, the cultural environment, and political culture may have shaped over decades--if not centuries--the range of options available to Buddhist leaders when they select their preferences, including their preference for democratization, factors pertaining to socio-economic conditions and the political context, which could influence their choice for the best strategies available to achieve these goals, have yet to be examined. In particular, more needs to be known about the extent to which economic

growth, by creating new opportunities for the expansion of religious institutions and the proliferation of new ones, may present well-established institutions with competition that they did not have to face under an authoritarian regime. In short, prosperity and democratization may not necessarily be an advantage for them. Among political factors, at least three stand out for their possible impact on shaping the preferences of Taiwanese Buddhist leaders. First, and with respect to democratization per se, it is possible that the leaders of Taiwanese Buddhist organizations find that many of the fundamental premises of democracy are incompatible with the tenets of their religious world-views. Second, it is not clear to what extent the divisive nature of ethnic cleavages within Taiwanese society may compel Taiwanese Buddhist leaders to avoid engagement in politics, lest it have a negative impact on the growth of their memberships. Finally, it is worth asking to what extent Taiwan’s strategic situation compels these leaders to adopt prudent positions.

The impact of social change on the behavior of religious institutions in Taiwan has been abundantly documented, and a growing literature exposes the relationship between the “economic miracle” and the explosion of religious expression that comes in its wake. However, this effect on Buddhists’ views of democratization has yet to be clearly understood. Data on the growth in the number of Buddhist temples between 1960 and 1989 show the congruence between economic growth and the expansion of religious activities. The wealth of publications in Chinese and Western languages attests to the positive impact of economic growth on the expansion of religious institutions. This phenomenon, however, comes with two drawbacks. First, the simultaneous expansion of the economy and of religious activities often coincides with a commercialization of religion, which,

in turns, puts the credibility of established institutions to the test. The case of Foguangshan is illustrative of this predicament: victim of its own success, the organization has been severely criticized for its positive valuation of material wealth. Second, and in relation to the problem of commercialization, the “this-worldly” orientations of established organizations, such as Foguangshan and Ciji, leave unsatisfied many people who are looking for a more esoteric religious practice, thus providing the incentive for the development of new cults. The proliferation of new religious movements, such as Forshang Buddhism (Foshengzong), the Way of the Children (Haizidao), the

Wheel of the Law (Falungong), and the like, suggests the existence of that demand in Taiwan. To what extent organizations belonging to more orthodox traditions welcome this development remains to be seen. The attitude of the BAROC in this regard is instructive: throughout the 1980s and the 1990s, the organization pushed in vain for legislation on religion that would, in effect, limit the number of legalized religions. Although the BAROC’s proposals for a law on religion was resisted by a few small Buddhist organizations then, as well as many individuals belonging to other faiths, Xingyun and Zhengyan did not oppose the effort, thereby suggesting their indifference, if not

their hostility, to freedom of religion from state intervention that is inherent to democratic consolidation. Among political factors, the workings of democracy themselves may not necessarily appeal to the promotion of the interests and the ideals of the large Taiwanese Buddhist organizations: in particular, the proliferation of organizations allowed by democratic institutions makes the advocacy of Buddhist interests under one leader much more difficult, and competition among political parties representing antagonistic interests contradicts the goal of harmony they are supposed to nurture. The argument that

democracy may not serve the interests of Buddhists may seem counterintuitive in light of the absence of legal existence for any Buddhist organization besides the BAROC until 1989, when new legislation ended that privilege. Yet, a closer look at the history of Foguangshan and Ciji--which were both established in 1966--reveals that the leaders of both organizations managed to take advantage of the legal structure prevailing during martial law. Xingyun developed his organization under the umbrella of the BAROC, and was indeed a high-ranking member of that organization. Zhengyan set up her own institution as a charity, and, therefore, never competed with the BAROC for the representation of Buddhist interests: in fact, her organization is not even registered with the Ministry of Interior’s Bureau for Religious Affairs. In light of these circumstances, the process of democratization, which allows younger Buddhist monks to create their own representative organizations, not only diminishes severely the authority of the BAROC

secretary general, but also prevents charismatic leaders, such as Xingyun, from rallying a majority of Buddhists under his guidance. This has resulted in many different voices speaking for Buddhism today in Taiwan. Competition among Buddhist institutions, in turn, refutes the impression of harmony in society and disinterest in politics that leaders like Zhengyan have so successfully nurtured over the years. Although differences of opinion among Taiwanese Buddhists do not lead to acrimony, they are important enough to prevent the creation of an organization representing a majority of them. The 1996 presidential election taught Buddhists one important lesson in this regard: the

results achieved by Chen Lü’an showed that a candidate supported by a major Buddhist organization such as Foguangshan, who also relied on other sectors of civil society, as shown by his choice of Wang Qingfeng (Wang Ching-feng) as his vice-presidential candidate, could not garner more than 10 percent of the vote, and that many Buddhist voters preferred to cast their vote for more established parties. Therefore, it is not surprising that neither Foguangshan nor Ciji showed interest in supporting any of the contenders for the 2000 presidential election, lest political backing would further increase division among Buddhist organizations.

A second political factor, the communal cleavage between the Benshengren and “those from outside the province,” or Waishengren, which is based on places of origin, is also likely to exercise an impact on the preferences of Taiwanese Buddhist leaders that could bode ill for their active support of democracy. Successive GMD governments controlled by the minority Waishengren ruled the island until the late 1980s, even though the Benshengren represented a majority of the population. While the late President Jiang Jingguo (Chiang Ching-kuo) promoted Benshengren in the party and in public administration during the 1980s, Taiwanese politics continues to be influenced by this cleavage, which resonates with the issue of national security.

The leaders of both Foguangshan and Ciji have always sought to transcend these divisions: Xingyun has demonstrated throughout his career the political acumen of selecting Benshengren for positions of importance in his organization. Zhengyan, although identified as a Benshengren herself, has never expressed in her numerous discourses either a sense of entitlement for Benshengren or resentment toward Waishengren. Nor do Buddhist leaders play up other communal cleavages based on ethnicity among the inhabitants of Taiwan, separating aboriginal people and ethnic Chinese, Hoklo and Hakka among the Benshengren, or Buddhists and adherents to the other fifteen faiths recognized by the law.

This attitude, which may help in nurturing a sense of national identity that is devoid of ethnic or communal dimension and is based on citizenship, is certainly commendable. However, by refraining to speak against the suffering that was experienced by the Yuanzhumin at the hands of ethnic Chinese settlers, and by Benshengren elites who were harassed by the Waishengren-controlled GMD during the period of martial law, Buddhist leaders have deprived themselves of adopting a principled stand on the ethnic divide. Lacking credibility on this sensitive issue, it is not surprising that they would hesitate to become involved in politics, and thus refrain from making pronouncements on any dimension of democratic consolidation.

Finally, a third political factor, the strategic situation experienced in Taiwan, also indirectly influences the attitude of Buddhist organizations. In relation to the cleavages mentioned above, the status of Taiwan as a de facto independent state, either as the Republic of China or the Republic of Taiwan, divides Taiwanese and presents another reason for Buddhist organizations to keep their distance from politics. The members of the GMD and the supporters of the People’s First Party (PFP), together known as the “blue camp,” support the continuation of the Republic of China, while members of the DPP and the TSU, who constitute the “green camp,” lean toward the formation of the Republic of Taiwan.

Parties may paint each other as more extremist on the issue of Taiwanese independence or reunification with China, but they all fundamentally seek votes from the same constituency. The vast majority of the population, which is satisfied with the status quo, agrees with the popular slogan, “not pressing for independence, but not pressing for re-unification.” On this issue, Taiwanese Buddhist organizations have clearly preferred the existing situation and have never openly supported Taiwanese independence, fearing its consequences in terms of interstate violence. Would the leaders of Taiwanese Buddhists organizations, then, consider subordination to the People’s Republic of China a lesser evil than armed conflict?

Any answer to this question is a matter of speculation, but it is clear that Taiwanese Buddhist organizations have gone very far in trying to establish good relations across the Taiwan Strait: Ciji, in particular, has offered relief to provinces affected by floods and other natural disasters since 1991. Taiwanese Buddhists may take some comfort from the experience of their coreligionists in the Chinese Buddhist Association (CBA, or Zhongguo Fojiao Xiehui) in the PRC, who have weathered traumatic events since 1953, but are now experiencing a remarkable revival. If the PRC tried directly to impose its authority on the island, it is not inconceivable that mainstream Taiwanese Buddhist organizations would revert to the practice that was adopted by the BAROC when the GMD implemented martial law in Taiwan.

The rationale would be the same as then: concerns for self-preservation-- whether of the organization or the faith itself. That is, cooperation with those who favor PRC sovereignty over Taiwan may appear a better guarantee for the survival of Taiwanese Buddhist institutions in the long run, as long as the stands of the opposition are interpreted in Beijing as support for Taiwan’s independence.

Although prudence, if not approval of the official ideology, has explained the indifference of most Buddhist leaders to democracy during the period of martial law, the absence of state repression in the current climate of democratic consolidation and the diversity of views upheld by legislators and officials of all parties may compel the leaders of Buddhist organizations to become more pro-active. The lack of concern for democratization by the large Taiwanese Buddhist organizations represents an increasingly untenable position to adopt because politics on the island is becoming more polarized, and taking refuge in passivity may simply be perceived as cooperation with the adverse camp. This situation presents Buddhist organizations with the opportunity to act as disinterested third parties.

However, assuming Buddhist leaders might decide to intervene in politics, what kind of politics would they be likely to endorse for their lay followers? Although Taiwanese Buddhists have yet to produce any systematic reflection comparable to the Catholic Church’s social doctrine--not to mention its Liberation Theology--or inspire any movement that could be associated with a trend of “engaged Buddhism,” the political leanings of Buddhists organizations in Taiwan can nevertheless be surmised by an examination of the specific political concerns raised by their leaders over the years.

An Outline of Taiwanese Buddhist Political Philosophy

The pace of democratization and the uncertainties it presents for the continuing growth of Buddhist organizations may help explain the organizations’ attitude toward democracy, but do not say much about the political values they might stand for if they decided to become involved in politics. Two points can be asserted with confidence about the political orientations of Buddhist organizations. First, with respect to their beliefs, the writings of Xingyun, Zhengyan, Yinshun (Yin Shun), and others suggest that most of the popular Buddhist leaders subscribe to political philosophies that try to reconcile socially-conservative values with the acceptance of neoliberal economic policies.

Besides this fundamental element of convergence, however, important disagreements among them arise about two issues: Buddhists’ participation in politics and their relationship to wealth. These divergences point to the difficulty inherent in the establishment of a Buddhist political doctrine that is supported by most adherents of the faith. In particular, the contrasting views of Xingyun and Zhengyan on political participation, as well as their variant opinions on wealth, discussed below, illustrate the obstacles preventing the constitution of a specifically Buddhist political stand.

Second, looking at the practice endorsed by Taiwanese Buddhists’ approaches to politics from a comparative perspective, their embrace of mainstream society demonstrates that none of them approves radical theologies. However, they also differ from the large, mainstream religious institutions found in Western Europe and Japan that have worked with confessional parties to reconcile their support for market economies and policies of redistributive social justice. Taiwanese Buddhist institutions prefer to quietly exercise their influence through informal channels within existing institutions, in line with their conservative theology. The following two subsections elaborate on these two points.

Taiwanese Buddhist Perspectives on Politics: A Diversity of Conservative Views

The political views embraced by the leaders of Buddhist organizations do not differ in most respects from the positions adopted by the conservative politicians affiliated with the GMD, the PFP, or the NP who support the status quo in cross-Strait relations, sanction the market economy, approve the principle of a minimum welfare state, and who still dominated the ROC legislature in the fall of 2003. Until the lifting of martial law in 1987, Buddhist organizations aligned themselves with GMD governments in international forums and in domestic politics, but since the middle of the 1990s, they have distanced themselves from the party, which was suspected of covertly leaning toward greater Taiwanese assertiveness on the international stage under the leadership of Li Denghui.

In retrospect, this should not come as a surprise. Studies of the GMD ideology by Metzger suggest that the “revolutionary” legacy of the party, which embraced the three principles of nationalism, democratization, and social welfare, was bound to be less--not more--conservative than the world-views embraced by Buddhist leaders in the second half of the twentieth century.

This became clear in the 1990s, when the GMD, under the influence of a growing number of Benshengren, became more lukewarm on the issue of reunification with China, in contrast to many of the important Buddhist monks who, born in the mainland, continued to support that goal. To the extent that they oppose socialism and have expressed reservations toward political liberalism--but not toward neoliberal economic policies--most leaders of the Taiwanese Buddhist organizations can be defined as conservatives.

That is, they agree with world-views critical of the belief that volition is powerful enough to remold human nature by the creation of a new social order, and asserting that the appropriate analogy for people within a polity is not the contractarian model of liberal theory, but the family. Perhaps not surprisingly for people who uphold an old tradition, they agree that allegiance to authority is part of a convention, not a matter for negotiation. In their behavior and in their writings, Buddhist leaders such as Xingyun, Zhengyan, and Yinshun agree with these classical definitions of conservative political philosophy in which the ultimate value is not individual liberty, but established authority, and in which there exists no natural right transcending the citizen’s obligation to be ruled.

The values advocated by the leaders of the BAROC, Foguangshan, and Ciji, nevertheless, differ from those of the conservative factions within the GMD in one important respect: they are derived from a theological view of the world. They mirror in some respects the ideologies of the Western European conservatives for whom, in the words of O’Sullivan, “everything has a place to it assigned by God.” In that sense, the leaders of BAROC, Foguangshan, and Ciji differ radically from the GMD conservative old guard, whose ideas rest on a belief in the existence of historical laws and objective barriers to human volition, such as passions and emotions, of which German romanticism represented a good example.

In other words, the conservative views of Taiwanese Buddhist leaders, premised on theological ideals that emphasize harmony within society, moral rectitude from the political leadership, and altruism from the population, differ from the perspective of the GMD old guard on revolutionary nationalism. But while the GMD conservative leanings are not necessarily incompatible with democracy--as the evolution of the last decade demonstrates--democracy appears problematic for many Buddhist leaders. From the perspective of Xingyun and Zhengyan, the competition for votes between the “pan-green” and the “pan-blue” parties implies fierce and bitter struggles that demonstrate the divisive nature of democracy.

In that respect, they agree with conservative GMD figures such as Hao Bocun (Hau Po-tsun) and his supporters--who have joined the NP and the PFP--who believed that the enforced unanimity and the semblance of harmony prevailing during the martial law period have given way to disorder and uncertainty. Although Buddhists leaders do not publicly criticize the process of democratization, their speeches on the “purification of minds” and their ban on political participation do not support it. The limited evidence available on their political ideas suggests that Buddhist leaders, while not opposed to democracy per se, hold political views that are more germane to neocorporatist regimes and other forms of minimal democracies.

Although the term, corporatism, has been abandoned in the political science literature to describe political developments in postindustrial societies, it seems more relevant to understanding the politics of Taiwan, where the state has long licensed specific organizations with a monopoly over representation of their constituencies. Although corporatist structures were undermined throughout the 1990s, organizations such as the BAROC have waged a rearguard campaign to maintain them. Because the BAROC benefited from the corporatist structure of representation of different sectors of society, which was enforced until the late 1980s, this should not be a surprise. Although Xingyun also has advocated some state intervention to regulate religion in Taiwan, Zhengyan has never expressed such a view.

However, her own ideas on political participation suggest that she subscribes to a minimalist form of democracy: people have the right to vote, but they should not become involved in politics, which is considered unworthy activity. Zhengyan’s negative views on politics are derived from the teaching of her mentor, Yinshun, who derides it as a pursuit as condemnable as prostitution and drunkenness. This is a sentiment mirrored by many Buddhist individuals belonging to Ciji whom the author has met over the years, who admit that they see politics as a source of perplexity and confusion. Even Xingyun, who approved the candidacy of Chen Lü’an, justified his decision in purely religious terms. However, besides these similarities in the negative opinion held toward the confusion inherent to politics, important differences remain.

Although Xingyun and Zhengyan, like many other important contemporary Buddhist leaders in Taiwan, claim to uphold the legacy of Taixu, they differ in many respects from him and use his legacy as a rationale to justify a diversity of attitudes. The complex and controversial views of Taixu himself on politics, social justice, and nationalism, are no stranger to the inconsistent interpretations of his thought. The most lasting legacies of Taixu’s work are the reform of the monastic order, the development of the laity, and the creation of an international organization representing Buddhists, objectives that Xingyun and Zhengyan also approve in their own activities. Taixu, however, also took a keen interest in politics and was close to lay activists, such as Ouyang Jianwu and Zhang Binglin.

The GMD suspected some of its followers--such as Xingyun and Yinshun--of communist sympathies after they escaped the turmoil of the civil war and relocated to Taiwan. Subsequent events would demonstrate that these concerns were misplaced. Nonetheless, this suspicion may explain why both Yinshun and Xingyun over the years have avoided any association with the most radical elements of Taixu’s thinking, and substituted for his concept of “Buddhism for human life” (rensheng fojiao), the idea of “Buddhism for the human realm” (renjian fojiao). The result is that, while Xingyun is a liberal who reconciles “spreading the Dharma” (hung fa) with a wealthy sangha in his interpretation of renjian fojiao, Yinshun, arguably one of the most respected heirs of Taixu still living in Taiwan, uses renjian fojiao in more restrictive terms, advocating a frugal lifestyle and inspiring his most famous student, Zhengyan, to use charity work as a path to enlightenment.

As we have seen before, however, an examination of the course of action undertaken during the first decade of democratization by the leaders of Foguangshan and Ciji shows important difference between them in terms of their political behavior. Foguangshan has supported Chen Lü’an, and Xingyun has endorsed other candidates in local elections over the years. Wu Boxiong, a prominent member of the GMD, is also president of the ROC branch of the BLIA, the satellite lay organization of Foguangshan. Xingyun himself, as discussed before, has been involved with the GMD as adviser for the OCAC.

He has said of Buddhists that they should follow Taixu’s motto: “participating in politics, but not governing (Canzheng erbu Ganzhi).” Zhengyan, for her part, has consistently distanced herself from politics, and says that members of Ciji “care about but do not get involved in politics (Guanxin dan bu Jieru Zhengzhi).” During the presidential election of 1999, however, a convergence among the large Buddhist organizations emerged, with Xingyun not endorsing any candidate in particular, therefore, moving closer to the position of noninterference chosen by Zhengyan.

The views of Xingyun and Zhengyan on wealth and poverty also differ significantly. Xingyun has received his fair share of criticism for his positive appreciation of wealth, a view seen by other Buddhists as contrary to the vows of frugality expected of monks. The radically different views of Zhengyan on poverty also deserve mention because they shed light on the possibility for Buddhists to develop their own version of a “social doctrine of the Church,” or a “social gospel,” which has been instrumental in developing Christian democracy in Western Europe. The analysis by Zhengyan of poverty is straightforward: it blames illness and, therefore, offers health care to eradicate poverty. Zhengyan’s simple diagnosis aside, other large Buddhist organizations have yet to develop a systematic reflection on the issue. In sum, while Xingyun reconciles “this-worldly Buddhism” with the pursuit of wealth, Zhengyan emphasizes selflessness.

These irreconcilable differences illustrate that Buddhist elites have yet to elaborate from renjian fojiao a “social doctrine” that can offer to Taiwanese voters an alternative to the existing parties’ established social policies. Besides these differences, however, the leaders of these mainstream Taiwanese Buddhist organizations share two fundamental premises, making their differences trivial: they do not criticize the principle of the market economy and they do not believe that the state has any role to play in the redistribution of wealth. To put it mildly, this consensus does not represent an iron-clad endorsement of democratization: laissez-faire economics and a minimal welfare state can thrive under authoritarian regimes as well.

A Comparative Perspective

The overwhelming body of evidence available on Taiwanese lay Buddhist organizations demonstrates unambiguously that none of these groups nurtures the kind of resentment against the modern state that brings about the extremist and antisecular politics of lay organizations such as the World Hindu Council (better known as the VHP, or Vishwa Hindu Parishad) and the Jana Sangh in India, the Islamist movements from the Maghreb to the Mashrek, or Buddhist radical movements such as the Sri Lankan Mavbima Surakime Vyaparaya, or the Japanese Aum Shinrikyô. These cases of religious extremism are often the expression of a resistance to the secular state, which is considered highly problematic by these organizations and somehow alien to the native culture.

Taiwanese Buddhist organizations do not hold such views. They are also uninterested in the advocacy of alternative sources of authority or new modes of political identity, as is often the case in other societies in Southeast and Northeast Asia. Even though Buddhist organizations in Taiwan may criticize the virtue of specific leaders or scorn politicians, they differ from these religious organizations in a significant way: they shy away from criticizing the state’s secular values and seek to join the mainstream rather than to subvert it and replace it with their own views. In sum, Taiwanese Buddhist organizations do not belong to the class of phenomena associated with contemporary communal violence in other regions of the world or in other periods of Chinese history, and they are not alienated from mainstream society. In fact, their growth and success have been closely related to the expansion of capitalism and democratization.

Taiwanese Buddhist organizations are satisfied enough with the current social and political order to eschew the temptation of mobilizing their adherents into political parties that could push for policies more germane to the development of their values. Policies calling for sustainable development, an increase in foreign aid to developing countries, and animal rights, along with an emphasis on more traditional values that are critical of hedonistic consumer society, could presumably constitute a plank for a Buddhist political party. Buddhist organizations’ support for a market economy and a compassionate social policy that includes the alleviation of poverty, in addition to their advocacy of moderately conservative moral values, place Buddhist lay organizations in the mainstream of Taiwanese society.

In that respect, their situation does not differ much from that of lay Catholic and Protestant organizations sponsoring Christian-Democratic parties in post-World War II Western Europe. These groups articulated a political philosophy critical of liberalism and socialism, voiced since the nineteenth century in the “social doctrine of the Church,” that did not differ much from what most Taiwanese Buddhist leaders stand for today. Furthermore, Chinese and Taiwanese Buddhists, like their Christian counterparts in Europe, can also claim to inherit a centuries-old legacy of charitable work, intellectual achievements, and close relations with secular authorities, from which they can draw to develop well-organized political parties.

Yet, in one crucial respect, Buddhists find themselves in a situation that differs considerably from what Christians have experienced for centuries in Western Europe: they cannot claim to represent a faith that is embraced by the overwhelming majority of the population. With the exception of a brief period during the Sui Dynasty, Buddhism never became a state religion. Buddhists represented in 2000 less than half of all declared religious believers in Taiwan and, therefore, could not hope to build from their minority position the basis for a party that could attract the vote of a majority.

In addition, any attempt to establish a successful Buddhist political party in Taiwan may come at too high a price: it may entail abandoning values that are deemed to constitute the core of a Buddhist political philosophy. Hence, at the center of most engaged Buddhist leaders’ approach to international relations and foreign policy, from the Dalai Lama to Thich Nhat Hanh, stands the principle of pacifism. The Komeito--which over the years has promoted a program of Buddhist socialism, advocating a “third way” between unfettered capitalism and authoritarian socialism--has often been derided as opportunistic and not very different from the mainstream Liberal Democratic Party. Still, at least in the area of foreign policy, it has been consistently supportive of the constitutional ban on Japanese military intervention abroad.

However, as long as the situation across the Taiwan Strait remains unsettled, no political party in Taiwan could hope to achieve a significant status if it pledged to unilaterally abandon the use of force. Taiwan’s situation as an island that is militarily threatened by the PLA would make such a proposal unattractive to most voters, who support the need for a strong defense: this represents one of the few areas in which politicians from the“blue camp” and the “green camp” agree. The advocacy of a pacifist stand may appear tantamount to treason by the most ardent supporters of Taiwanese self-determination. Previous governments acted accordingly for years: the main ground for the persecution of the Mormons, the Jehovah’s Witnesses, and the Ba’hais by Taiwan’s provincial police authority in the 1980s was not subversion, but their support of pacifism.

The absence of religious militancy and the reluctance to create a large, mainstream political party begs the question about the mechanisms that Taiwanese Buddhist organizations may have to use for the promotion or the protection of their interests. So far, organizations such as the BAROC and Foguangshan have acted like American evangelical and fundamentalist Protestant movements which compete for influence over the agenda of mainstream political parties, while Ciji has preferred to adopt a low profile and rely on its grass roots to continue its work at the local and transnational levels. Because Taiwan may evolve into a four-tiered party system, and because it experienced the first peaceful changeover of power between political parties at the beginning of the twenty-first century, Buddhist lay organizations now face daunting challenges in a much more complex environment.

The failure of the BAROC to gain the approval of the GMD regime for a law on religion and the disappearance of Chen Lü’an from the political scene signal the passing of a brief and short-lived “moment” during which some Buddhist organizations could hope to lobby the government, or even hope to propose a political alternative. The fragmented nature of the party system, in addition, prevents Taiwanese Buddhist organizations from launching a party that is comparable to the Komeito in scope and popularity. Doing so would probably undermine the chance to gain power of the two parties that are most likely to listen favorably to their concerns: the much reduced GMD, shed of its nativist elements, and the PFP.

The presence of a lay Buddhist politician, such as Wu Boxiong, within the GMD’s central executive committee, in fact, may have represented the best option for Buddhists close to the BLIA, who might have wanted to gain a hearing from government officials had the “pan-blue” coalition been elected in 2004. Under a “pan-green” coalition government uniting the DPP and the TSU, the relationship between the BLIA and government officials must proceed through different channels. Zhengyan does not have to adopt a new strategy to ensure a smooth cooperation between Ciji and any new government, having always maintained a safe distance from previous administrations.

Conclusion

The unwillingness of Taiwanese Buddhist organizations to become engaged in the island’s politics can be explained by the prudence of leaderships committed to their organizational interests and their theological ideals more than any other cultural, political, or socio-economic factor. This attitude is buttressed by the deference of lay persons to a clergy subscribing to a conservative theology that does not question the socio-economic status quo nor support the dominant neoliberal economic policies. Leaders of these organizations, and presumably their followers, prefer to leave the alleviation of poverty in the hands of charitable organizations rather than in the care of public agencies, which they do not trust.

In that respect, they represent a large constituency that is uneasy with the development of a welfare state in Taiwan. However, they are unlikely to oppose such development, as long as they continue to benefit from the generally promarket policies of the government. For Taiwanese Buddhist leaders, the lifting of martial law has ensured more freedom of speech, but has not changed much per se, since discretion was and remains the favorite way in which they seek to speak to the political elites.

As long as a majority of lay persons agrees with its leaders, and as long as the process of democratization does not work against it, the need for Buddhist leaders to speak out on political issues is not self-evident. Furthermore, large organizations such as Foguangshan and Ciji stand to lose their effectiveness as charitable associations and as religious institutions with a universal claim, if they appear to be partisans. Finally, the adoption of a neutral stand in politics makes sense, once we consider the broad picture. As religious institutions, Foguangshan and Ciji aim to reach a larger audience than the Taiwanese polity. Ciji, in particular, harbors the hope of developing “great love” across the Taiwan Strait: the fact that it appears “untainted” by collaboration with the KMT or the DPP must serve it very well.

Chapter 3 Notes

See Murray A. Rubinstein, The Protestant Community on Modern Taiwan: Mission, Seminary, and Church (Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe, 1991), and Michael Stainton, “‘Through Love and Suffering’: The Role of the Presbyterian Church in Taiwan’s Democratization,” paper presented to the Joint Center for Asia-Pacific Studies Annual Conference on Democracy and Identity Politics, Toronto, December 4, 2000. The exception remains valid for other traditions.

Among the exceptions, see Ye Yongwen, Taiwan Zhengjiao Guanxi [Relations between politics and religion in Taiwan] (Taipei: Fengyuan Luntan, 2000); Qu Haiyuan, ed., Taiwan Zongjiao Bianqian de Shehui Zhengzhi Fenxi [A sociopolitical analysis of religious change in Taiwan] (Taipei: Guiguan, 1997); Song Guangyu, Zongjiao yu Shehui [[[Religion]] and society] (Taipei: Dongta, 1995); Lin Benxuan, Taiwan de Zhengjiao Chongtu [The conflict between politics and religion in Taiwan] (Panchiao, Taipei County: Daoxiang chubanshe, 1994).

Charles B. Jones, Buddhism in Taiwan: Religion and the State: 1660-1990 (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 1999).

Stuart Chandler, “Establishing a Pureland on Earth: The Foguang Buddhist Perspectives on Modernization and Globalization” (Ph.D. diss., Harvard University, 2000); André Laliberté, “The Politics of Buddhist Organizations in Taiwan, 1987-1995” (Ph.D. diss., University of British Columbia, 1999); Julia Huang Chien-yu and Robert P. Weller, “Merit and Mothering: Women and Social Welfare in Taiwanese Buddhism,” The Journal of Asian Studies 57, no. 2 (May 1998): 379-96.

Charles B. Jones, Buddhism in Taiwan, 322-3.

Shi Zhaohui, “Renjian Fojiao” Shilianchang [Examining ‘this-worldly Buddhism’] (Taipei: Fajie, 1998), 90-4.

Xie Jianping, Chen Lü’an Zhenhan [The Chen Lü’an effect] (Taipei: Yaxiya, 1995), 146-52.

It is the most important of the lay branches of the Buddha Light Mountain Monastic Order (better known as Foguangshan, its Chinese name).

Wang Shunmin, Zongjiao Fuli [[[Religious]] welfare] (Taipei: Yatai Tushu, 1999), 172-210.

Fu Zhiying, Zhuan Deng: Xing Yun Dashi Zhuan [Handing down the light: The biography of Venerable Master Hsing Yun] (Taipei: Tianxia Wenhua Chuban, 1995), 377. Kang Le and Jian Huimei, Xinyang yu Shehui [[[Belief]] and society] (Banqiao, Taipei County: Taipei County Cultural Center Publishing, 1995), 92. Government Information Office (GIO), Republic of China Yearbook, 2000 (Taipei: GIO, Executive Yuan of the ROC, 2000), 459.

Jiang Canteng, Taiwan Fojiao Bainianshi zhi Yanjiu, 1895-1995 [Research on a century of Buddhism in Taiwan, 1895-1995] (Taipei: Nantian, 1996), 454. “Xingyun Yong Chen Fan Li Yinfa Zongjiaojie Yao Yuanzheng Duozhan” [Xingyun’s support for Chen triggers competition within religious circles], Guohui Shuangzhoukan (September 1, 1995): 12-15.

Foguang Shiji ( July 16, 1997): 4.

Foreign Broadcast Information Service (FBIS), “Buddhist Master Named Commissioner of OCAC,” FBIS-CHI-97-032 (February 16, 1997), source: Taiwan Central News Agency Web site.

Chen ran for the presidency against the KMT candidate, Li Denghui, while Wu supported the ruling party.

This term describes Taiwanese with a Chinese background, and differs from “aboriginal people” (yuanzhumin).

Hence, in the Taipei area, women represent 75 percent of the core constituency of the organization, the commissioners (weiyuan), while 65 percent of the “honored patrons” (rongdong) are wealthy males with a high socio-economic status, and 94 percent are over forty years old. In addition, figures about membership, in the case of Ciji, may be inflated: hence, the study by Ding has demonstrated that a majority of the members are individuals who make regular donations on a monthly or bimonthly basis, but who include all members of the household as members of the organization. See Ting Jen-chieh, “Helping Behavior in Social Contexts: A Case Study of the Tzu-Chi Association in Taiwan” (Ph.D. diss., University of Wisconsin-Madison, 1997), 128-9, 131, 144. See also, Kang and Jian, Xinyang yu Shehui, 88-90.

No study has yet provided data on the ethnic background of each organization, but we can infer the importance of the Taiwanese Benshengren presence in both organizations by the number of speeches and documents produced in Fukienese (Minnanhua), their native language. Detailed descriptions of the temples affiliated with Foguangshan and of the branches of Ciji also indicate that both organizations have managed to attract followers in all counties on the island, and studies by Kang and Jian suggest further that the membership of both organizations is more important in large urban centers. For the localization of Foguangshan’s affiliated temples in Taiwan, see Fu Zhiying, Zhuan Deng, 363. For Ciji’s branches in Taiwan, see Fojiao Ciji Cishan Shiye Jijinhui, Ciji Zhiye Xunli [An overview of Ciji’s purpose] (Taipei: Ciji Wenhua chubanshe, n.d.), 121-2. For a breakdown of members in both organizations by counties and cities, see Kang and Jian, Xinyang yu Shehui, 89, 171-2.

Deng Zimei, “Taixu yu Mading Lude: Xiandaihua Shijiaoxiade Zhongxi Zongjiao Gaige Bijiao [[[Taixu]] and Martin Luther: A comparison on the basis of religious reformation viewed from the perspective of modernization],” Shijie Zongjiao Yanjiu [Research on World Religions] no. 1 (2000): 22-33.

Holmes Welch, The Buddhist Revival in China (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1968), 29-35, 71.

Chan Sin-wai, Buddhism in Late Ch’ing Political Thought (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1985).

Hao Chang, Liang Ch’i-ch’ao and Intellectual Transition in China, 1890-1907 (Taipei: Rainbow Bridge, 1971).

Guy S.Alitto, The Last Confucian: Liang Shu-ming and the Chinese Dilemma of Modernity (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1979).

Charles B. Jones, “Buddhism and Marxism in Taiwan: Lin Qiuwu's Religious Socialism and Its Legacy in Modern Times,” Journal of Global Buddhism 1 (2000): 82-115

Jiang Canteng, Taiwan Fojiao yu Xiandai Shehui [[[Taiwanese Buddhism]] and contemporary society] (Taipei: Dongda Tushu gonsi, 1992).

Ian Harris, ed., Buddhism and Politics in Twentieth-Century Asia (London: Pinter, 1999).

Donald K. Swearer, “Sulak Sivaraksa’s Buddhist Vision for Renewing Society,” in Engaged Buddhism, eds. Christopher S. Queen and Sallie B. King (Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 1996), 195-236.

Daniel A. Metraux, The Soka Gakkai Revolution (Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1994).

Sallie B. King, “Thich Nhat Hanh and the Unified Church of Vietnam,” in Engaged Buddhism, ed. Christopher S. Queen and Sallie B. King (Albany, NY: State University of New York Press, 1996): 321-63.

Brian A. Victoria, Zen at War (New York: Weatherhill, 1996).

Stanley J. Tambiah, Buddhism Betrayed? Religion, Politics and Violence in Sri Lanka (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992).

Don Baker, “World Religions and National States: Competing Claims in East Asia,” in Transnational Religion and Failed States, ed. Susanne Hoeber Rudolph and James P. Piscatori (Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1997), 144-72.

C.K. Yang, Religion in Chinese Society: A Study of Contemporary Social Functions of Religion and Some of Their Historical Factors (Taipei: SMC Publishing, 1994).

David K. Jordan and Daniel L. Overmyer, The Flying Phoenix: Aspects of Chinese Sectarianism in Taiwan (Taipei: Caves Books, 1986); Joseph Bosco, “Yiguan Dao: ‘Heterodoxy’ and Popular Religion in Taiwan,” in The Other Taiwan: 1945 to the Present, ed. Murray Rubinstein (Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe, 1994), 423-44.

Lin Benxuan, Taiwan de Zhengjiao Chongtu.

Lily Lee Tsai, “Cadres, Temple and Lineage Institutions, and Governance in Rural China,” China Journal 48 (July 2002): 1-27; Stephan Feuchtwang, “Religion as Resistance,” in Chinese Society: Change, Conflict and Resistance, ed. Elizabeth J. Perry and Mark Selden (London: Routledge, 2000): 161-77.

Charles B. Jones, Buddhism in Taiwan: 179-80.

Zhongfohui Kan 122 (April 13, 1994): 3-4.

Ho Fang-jiau (He Fengjiao), Taiwan Sheng Jingwu Dang’an Huibian: Minsu Zongjiao Pian [Documentary collection of Taiwan’s police administration: Folklore and religion] (Hsintien [Xindian],Taipei County: Academia Historica, 1996).

Chen Zailai, Zongjiao yu Guanli [[[Religion]] and administration], research report for the Management Science Research Institute (Hsinchu [Xinzhu]: Chiaotung [Jiaodong]University, 1994).

Kang Le and Jian Huimei, Xinyang yu Shehui, 57-9.

Jiang Canteng, Taiwan Dangdai Fojiao [[[Buddhism]] in contemporary Taiwan] (Taipei: Nantian,1997), 27-8.

James R. Wood, Leadership in Voluntary Organization: The Controversy over Social Action in Protestant Churches (New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1981).

Jiang Canteng, Taiwan Fojiao Bainianshi zhi Yanjiu, 251-320.

Song Guangyu, Zongjiao yu Shehui, 179.

Robert P. Weller, “Markets, Margins, and the Growth of Religious Diversity: Taiwan in Comparative Perspective,” Third International Conference on Sinology, Academia Sinica, June 29 through July 1, 2000, Nankang [Nangang], Taiwan.

“Foguangshan de Haohua Lingwei: Kaijia Zai Sanshiwan Yuan Yishang [The starting price for funerary tablets in Foguangshan: 30,000 New Taiwan dollars],” Xinxinwen [The Journalist] (October 26, 1996): 47-9.

Li Guangshen, “Shijimou, Shenfo Man Tianqi? Taiwan de Xinxing Zongjiaofeng [Taiwan’s New Age cults], Sinorama (October 2000): 6-19.

Qu Haiyuan, Zongjiaofa Yanjiu [Research on the legislation pertaining to religion] (Taipei: Neizhengbu Weituo Yanjiu [MOI Research Commission], 1989).

“Zhonghua Foxiehui Fandui Chengli Fojiao Zonghui [The CBTA opposes the establishment of the BFA],” Ziyou Shibao [Liberty Times] (September 24, 1996); “Fojiaofa Cao’an: Zhonghua Foxiehui You Yiyi [Draft law on Buddhism: The CBTA disagrees],” Zhongshi Wanbao[[[China]] Evening Times], September 23,1996.

Charles B. Jones, “Relations between the Nationalist Government and the Buddhist Association of the Republic of China (BAROC) since 1945,” Journal of Chinese Religions 24 (Fall 1996): 77-97.

Fu Zhiying (Fu Chi-ying), Xinhuo: Foguangshan Chengxianqihou de Gushi [The story of Foguangshan founders’ spiritual heirs] (Taipei: Tianxia Wenhua chuban [Commonwealth Publishing], 1997).

Neizhengbu (Ministry of the Interior), Quanguoxing Zongjiao Tuanti Minglu [Registry of religious organizations across the country], comp. Zhong Fushan (Taipei: Zhonghua Minguo Xingzhengyuan Neizhengbu, 1994).

This becomes clear when considering the various voices with which Buddhists express themselves, whether through respected scholarly journals, such as Faguang [[[Dharma]] Monthly], or the periodicals published by established organizations, such as Zhongfohui Kan [[[Chinese Buddhism]] Monthly], the BAROC mouthpiece; Bumen Zazhi [[[Universal Gate]]], Jueshi [[[Awakening]] the World], Renjian Fubao [[[Merit]] Times]), and Foguang Jikan, all owned by Foguangshan and its affiliates; Jingdian Zazhi [Rhythm Monthly], Ciji Yuekan [[[Tzu Chi]] Monthly], Tzu Chi Quarterly, and Ciji Daolu; or Fagu Zazhi [[[Dharma Drum]] Magazine], Foyin Shibao, Haichaoyin, and so on.

“Sense and Sensibility: On Taiwan’s Political Future,” China News Analysis 1558 (April 15, 1996): 1.

This term designates Chinese immigrants who came to Taiwan after 1945, when the authority of the Republic of China assumed political control over the island.

Alan M. Wachman, “Competing Identities in Taiwan,” in The Other Taiwan: 1945 to the Present, ed. Murray A. Rubinstein (Armonk, NY: M.E. Sharpe, 1994), 17-80.

Denny Roy, Taiwan: A Political History (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2003): 242-243.

Fu Zhiying, Xinhuo.

Surveys from the Mainland Affairs Commission (MAC, or Dalou Weiyuanhui) indicate that, since 1997, between 45 to 60 percent of the population prefers the current political status of Taiwan with regard to cross-Strait relations to the alternatives of independence or reunification with the PRC. During the same period of time, the proportion of people supporting independence has never exceeded 28 percent, while the proportion of people supporting reunification was halved by March 2003 from a high of 26.8 percent in August 1996. These surveys were conducted by the Center for Public Opinion and Election Studies at Sun Yat-sen University in Kaohsiung. Source: MAC 2003

Holmes Welch, Buddhism under Mao (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1972), 1-108; 231-66; 340-63.

With the legislative election of 2001, the DPP became the largest party in the Legislative Yuan, holding ninety of 225 seats, but even with the support of the thirteen seats held by the TSU, the party fell short of having a majority. The KMT, with sixty-six seats, and the PFP, with forty-five, needed only two votes from the eleven independent lawmakers to defeat the government’s legislation.

Thomas A. Metzger, “Will China Democratize? Sources of Resistance,” Journal of Democracy 9, no. 1 (January 1998): 18-26.

I use the definition of O’Sullivan and Scruton, who describe conservative ideology as a “philosophy of imperfection.” See Noel O’Sullivan, Conservatism (New York: St Martin’s Press, 1976), 9, and Roger Scruton, The Meaning of Conservatism, 2 ed. (London: Macmillan, 1984), 16, 19, 31.

Noel O’Sullivan, Conservatism, 22-7.

A third conservative trend that Sullivan identified, which is rooted in skepticism and prevalent in the United Kingdom, is not present in the ROC.

Peter J. Williamson, Corporatism in Perspective: An Introductory Guide to Corporatist Theory (London: Sage, 1989); Wyn Grant, ed., The Political Economy of Corporatism (London: Macmillan, 1985); and Gerhard Lehmbruch and Philippe C. Schmitter, eds., Patterns of Corporatist Policy-Making (London: Sage, 1982).

Jonathan Unger and Anita Chan, “China, Corporatism, and the East Asian Model,” Australian Journal of Chinese Affairs 33 (January 1995): 29-53; Harmon Zeigler, Pluralism, Corporatism, and Confucianism: Political Association and Conflict Regulation in the United States, Western Europe, and Taiwan (Philadelphia: Temple University Press, 1988). � Other authors discussing this type of regime prefer to talk of “illiberal democracy.”

See Daniel Bell and Kanishka Jayasuriya, “Understanding Illiberal Democracy: A Framework,” in Towards Illiberal Democracy in Pacific Asia, ed. Daniel A. Bell, David Brown, Kanishka Jayasuriya, and David Jones (London: Macmillan, 1995), 1-16; and Clark D. Neher, “Asian Style Democracy,” Asian Survey 34, no. 11 (November 1994): 949-61.

Taixu Dashi, Taixu Dashi Quanshu [The complete work of Venerable Taixu] (Taipei: Taixu Dashi Quanshu Yingyin Weiuyuanhui Yinxing [Publication Committee for the Collected Work of Taixu], n.d.), 1040-1212.

Jiang Canteng, Taixu Dashi Qianzhuan [[[Master]] Taixu : Biography of the early years] (Taipei : Xinwenfeng chuban, 1993).

Although an authority like Holmes Welch described him as “close to socialists,” Taixu was also critical of socialism in his writings. See The Buddhist Revival in China, 29, and Taixu Dashi, Taixu Dashi Quanshu, 1207-12.

Xingyun Dashi, How I Practice Humanistic Buddhism (Hacienda Heights, CA: Hsi Lai University Press, 1997), 3-4, 7-8.

Yinshun Dashi, The Way to Buddhahood: Instructions from a Modern Chinese Master, trans. Wing H. Yeung (Boston: Wisdom Publication, 1998).

Ting Jen-chieh, “Helping Behavior in Social Contexts: A Case Study of the Tzu-Chi Association in Taiwan,” (Ph.D. diss., University of Wisconsin-Madison, 1997), 124.

Xingyun Dashi, Foguang Yuan: Renjian Fojiao [The purpose of the Buddha light: This-worldly Buddhism], ed. Ceng Fengling (Kaohsiung: Foguang, 1994), 178.

Lianhebao ( August 21,1995): 3.

See Lise McKean, Divine Enterprise: Gurus and the Hindu Nationalist Movement (University of Chicago Press, 1996).

See Gilles Kepel, Jihad: Expansion et declin de l’Islamisme (Paris: Gallimard, 2000).

See Stanley J. Tambiah, Buddhism Betrayed?, 80-94.

Mark Juergensmeyer, The New Cold War? Religious Nationalism Confronts the Secular State (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1993); Martin E. Marty and Scott Appleby, eds., The Fundamentalism Project, Vol. 1: Fundamentalism Observed (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1991).

Charles F. Keyes, Laurel Kendall, and Helen Hardacre, ed.., Asian Visions of Authority (Honolulu: University of Hawai’i Press, 1994).

Kees van Kersbergen, Social Capitalism: A Study of Christian Democracy and the Welfare State (London: Routledge, 1995); David Hanley, Christian Democracy in Europe: A Comparative Perspective (London: Pinter Publisher, 1994).

Regarding Buddhist social welfare, see Liang Qici, Shishan yu Jiaohua: Ming Qing de Cishan Zuzhi [[[Charity]] organizations of the Ming and Qing] (Taipei: Lianjing, 1997).

Sources from the Civil Affairs Department of the Ministry of the Interior indicate that, in 2000, among Taiwan’s 10.8 million believers in a population of 22,276,672, there were 3,673,000 Buddhists. Government Information Office (GIO), Republic of China Yearbook, 2002 (Taipei: GIO, Executive Yuan of the ROC, 2002): 23, 453.

Metraux, The Soka Gakkai Revolution.

Ho Fang-jiao, Taiwan Sheng Jingwu Dang’an Huibian, 479-504; 550-79.