MONTREAL - China's Liberation Army Daily recently condemned the Falun Gong and its leader, Li Hongzhi, as "Western anti-Chinese forces" - a new wrinkle in a government campaign to discredit the group as an apocalyptic doomsday cult. It began by dismissing the spiritual movement as a trick played on the superstitious and the illiterate.
Most Chinese Falun Gong practitioners I have met in North America, however, are youngish and highly educated, most often in the hard sciences, and feel that their practice of Falun Gong has reacquainted them with aspects of Chinese cultural tradition that have been ignored since the Communist Revolution in 1949.
But in the context of modern Chinese history, traditionalism can be subversive and, by bringing together science, spirituality and Chinese nationalism, has proved to be explosive.
Since the 19th century, the central dilemma of China's history has been how to remain Chinese while becoming modern. Science has been perceived by Chinese intellectuals and the Chinese state as the solution to that dilemma.
Science was first understood as little more than a handy - if formidable - bag of technological tricks that enabled the West to build strong armies and that China could borrow in her turn. The notion that traditional Chinese culture could be preserved beneath a protective outer shell of Western science and technology was summed up by the slogan "Let Chinese learning serve as our foundation, and Western learning as our practical orientation."
In the 20th century, it became clear that science was more than tricks and that the scientific method might pose a challenge to traditional Chinese culture. Many Chinese intellectuals were prepared to make the painful admission that Chinese culture needed changing and hoped that science, as a neutral, universal methodology, would propel China forward - perhaps even past the West.
The supposedly scientific character of Marxism-Leninism was an important factor in its adoption by Chinese intellectuals, and a romance of science continues to permeate Chinese culture to this day.
That attitude is critical to understanding Falun Gong. Li Hongzhi, its founder, sees his message not only as a return to a neglected spiritual tradition, but also as a contribution to modern science. Quarks and neutrinos figure in Mr. Li's writings as frequently as Buddhas, and he insists that truth, benevolence and tolerance are the physical qualities of the universe, not simple moral platitudes.
In surveys I have circulated at Falun Gong "experience-sharing" conferences in Montreal and Toronto, practitioners identify the intellectual content of Mr. Li's teachings - in particular, his physics - as at least as important as spiritual enlightenment when they explain what drew them to the movement. Indeed, the greatest difference between Falun Gong and the larger qigong movement, from which it emerged in 1992, is precisely Li Hongzhi's emphasis on "scientific" theory.
Widespread practice of all forms of qigong - a varied set of exercises, meditative techniques and spiritual practices, based on ancient Chinese wisdom - spawned a mass movement of some 200 million people in China in the 1980s. Even now, most Chinese accept that qigong is real and helpful in achieving physical and mental well-being.
The Chinese state once supported qigong, including the Falun Gong variant, and established the Chinese Qigong Scientific Research Association in December 1985 to coordinate and fund scientific experiments to prove that qigong has a scientific basis. Official support for qigong lasted well into the 1990s.
At a time when Deng Xiaoping was opening China to bring in Western technology, China was investing in qigong, hoping to prove the existence of an indigenous science. For a brief, heady moment, it was possible to be modern and Chinese at the same time, as the twin goals of China's modern experience came into focus.
But in the past decade, qigong and Falun Gong grew faster than the state could have imagined. In China's energized economy, qigong masters sold books and audio and video cassettes, and organized national tours with mass rallies in which paying customers were said to experience trance, possession and a variety of other-worldly states. The authorities could not control the message. Qigong as Chinese science gave way to moral exhortations, supernatural powers and miraculous cures, all of which took as their point of departure traditional Chinese culture.
The Chinese Communist Party survived the catastrophic failure of Mao Zedong's Cultural Revolution by liberalizing the economy and appealing to patriotism. But the party's victories against the Japanese and the Nationalists of Chiang Kai-shek are now more than 50 years old.
China's rapid economic development has brought with it inequality, corruption and "Western" consumerism. Qigong and Falun Gong have offered a return to a timeless cultural pride based on reasserted Chinese values. Neither appears to have had overt political ambitions at the outset.
But their evocation of a different vision of Chinese tradition and its contemporary value is now threatening to the state and party because it denies them the sole right to define the meaning of Chinese nationalism, and perhaps of Chineseness.
The writer, associate professor of history at the University of Montreal, has published widely on Chinese secret societies and is author of a forthcoming book on Falun Gong. He contributed this comment to The New York Times. MONTREAL China's Liberation Army Daily recently condemned the Falun Gong and its leader, Li Hongzhi, as "Western anti-Chinese forces" - a new wrinkle in a government campaign to discredit the group as an apocalyptic doomsday cult. It began by dismissing the spiritual movement as a trick played on the superstitious and the illiterate.
Most Chinese Falun Gong practitioners I have met in North America, however, are youngish and highly educated, most often in the hard sciences, and feel that their practice of Falun Gong has reacquainted them with aspects of Chinese cultural tradition that have been ignored since the Communist Revolution in 1949.
But in the context of modern Chinese history, traditionalism can be subversive and, by bringing together science, spirituality and Chinese nationalism, has proved to be explosive.
Since the 19th century, the central dilemma of China's history has been how to remain Chinese while becoming modern. Science has been perceived by Chinese intellectuals and the Chinese state as the solution to that dilemma.
Science was first understood as little more than a handy - if formidable - bag of technological tricks that enabled the West to build strong armies and that China could borrow in her turn. The notion that traditional Chinese culture could be preserved beneath a protective outer shell of Western science and technology was summed up by the slogan "Let Chinese learning serve as our foundation, and Western learning as our practical orientation."
In the 20th century, it became clear that science was more than tricks and that the scientific method might pose a challenge to traditional Chinese culture. Many Chinese intellectuals were prepared to make the painful admission that Chinese culture needed changing and hoped that science, as a neutral, universal methodology, would propel China forward - perhaps even past the West.
The supposedly scientific character of Marxism-Leninism was an important factor in its adoption by Chinese intellectuals, and a romance of science continues to permeate Chinese culture to this day.
That attitude is critical to understanding Falun Gong. Li Hongzhi, its founder, sees his message not only as a return to a neglected spiritual tradition, but also as a contribution to modern science. Quarks and neutrinos figure in Mr. Li's writings as frequently as Buddhas, and he insists that truth, benevolence and tolerance are the physical qualities of the universe, not simple moral platitudes.
In surveys I have circulated at Falun Gong "experience-sharing" conferences in Montreal and Toronto, practitioners identify the intellectual content of Mr. Li's teachings - in particular, his physics - as at least as important as spiritual enlightenment when they explain what drew them to the movement. Indeed, the greatest difference between Falun Gong and the larger qigong movement, from which it emerged in 1992, is precisely Li Hongzhi's emphasis on "scientific" theory.
Widespread practice of all forms of qigong - a varied set of exercises, meditative techniques and spiritual practices, based on ancient Chinese wisdom - spawned a mass movement of some 200 million people in China in the 1980s. Even now, most Chinese accept that qigong is real and helpful in achieving physical and mental well-being.
The Chinese state once supported qigong, including the Falun Gong variant, and established the Chinese Qigong Scientific Research Association in December 1985 to coordinate and fund scientific experiments to prove that qigong has a scientific basis. Official support for qigong lasted well into the 1990s.
At a time when Deng Xiaoping was opening China to bring in Western technology, China was investing in qigong, hoping to prove the existence of an indigenous science. For a brief, heady moment, it was possible to be modern and Chinese at the same time, as the twin goals of China's modern experience came into focus.
But in the past decade, qigong and Falun Gong grew faster than the state could have imagined. In China's energized economy, qigong masters sold books and audio and video cassettes, and organized national tours with mass rallies in which paying customers were said to experience trance, possession and a variety of other-worldly states. The authorities could not control the message. Qigong as Chinese science gave way to moral exhortations, supernatural powers and miraculous cures, all of which took as their point of departure traditional Chinese culture.
The Chinese Communist Party survived the catastrophic failure of Mao Zedong's Cultural Revolution by liberalizing the economy and appealing to patriotism. But the party's victories against the Japanese and the Nationalists of Chiang Kai-shek are now more than 50 years old.
China's rapid economic development has brought with it inequality, corruption and "Western" consumerism. Qigong and Falun Gong have offered a return to a timeless cultural pride based on reasserted Chinese values. Neither appears to have had overt political ambitions at the outset.
But their evocation of a different vision of Chinese tradition and its contemporary value is now threatening to the state and party because it denies them the sole right to define the meaning of Chinese nationalism, and perhaps of Chineseness.
The writer, associate professor of history at the University of Montreal, has published widely on Chinese secret societies and is author of a forthcoming book on Falun Gong. He contributed this comment to The New York Times. MONTREAL China's Liberation Army Daily recently condemned the Falun Gong and its leader, Li Hongzhi, as "Western anti-Chinese forces" - a new wrinkle in a government campaign to discredit the group as an apocalyptic doomsday cult. It began by dismissing the spiritual movement as a trick played on the superstitious and the illiterate.
Most Chinese Falun Gong practitioners I have met in North America, however, are youngish and highly educated, most often in the hard sciences, and feel that their practice of Falun Gong has reacquainted them with aspects of Chinese cultural tradition that have been ignored since the Communist Revolution in 1949.
But in the context of modern Chinese history, traditionalism can be subversive and, by bringing together science, spirituality and Chinese nationalism, has proved to be explosive.
Since the 19th century, the central dilemma of China's history has been how to remain Chinese while becoming modern. Science has been perceived by Chinese intellectuals and the Chinese state as the solution to that dilemma.
Science was first understood as little more than a handy - if formidable - bag of technological tricks that enabled the West to build strong armies and that China could borrow in her turn. The notion that traditional Chinese culture could be preserved beneath a protective outer shell of Western science and technology was summed up by the slogan "Let Chinese learning serve as our foundation, and Western learning as our practical orientation."
In the 20th century, it became clear that science was more than tricks and that the scientific method might pose a challenge to traditional Chinese culture. Many Chinese intellectuals were prepared to make the painful admission that Chinese culture needed changing and hoped that science, as a neutral, universal methodology, would propel China forward - perhaps even past the West.
The supposedly scientific character of Marxism-Leninism was an important factor in its adoption by Chinese intellectuals, and a romance of science continues to permeate Chinese culture to this day.
That attitude is critical to understanding Falun Gong. Li Hongzhi, its founder, sees his message not only as a return to a neglected spiritual tradition, but also as a contribution to modern science. Quarks and neutrinos figure in Mr. Li's writings as frequently as Buddhas, and he insists that truth, benevolence and tolerance are the physical qualities of the universe, not simple moral platitudes.
In surveys I have circulated at Falun Gong "experience-sharing" conferences in Montreal and Toronto, practitioners identify the intellectual content of Mr. Li's teachings - in particular, his physics - as at least as important as spiritual enlightenment when they explain what drew them to the movement. Indeed, the greatest difference between Falun Gong and the larger qigong movement, from which it emerged in 1992, is precisely Li Hongzhi's emphasis on "scientific" theory.
Widespread practice of all forms of qigong - a varied set of exercises, meditative techniques and spiritual practices, based on ancient Chinese wisdom - spawned a mass movement of some 200 million people in China in the 1980s. Even now, most Chinese accept that qigong is real and helpful in achieving physical and mental well-being.
The Chinese state once supported qigong, including the Falun Gong variant, and established the Chinese Qigong Scientific Research Association in December 1985 to coordinate and fund scientific experiments to prove that qigong has a scientific basis. Official support for qigong lasted well into the 1990s.
At a time when Deng Xiaoping was opening China to bring in Western technology, China was investing in qigong, hoping to prove the existence of an indigenous science. For a brief, heady moment, it was possible to be modern and Chinese at the same time, as the twin goals of China's modern experience came into focus.
But in the past decade, qigong and Falun Gong grew faster than the state could have imagined. In China's energized economy, qigong masters sold books and audio and video cassettes, and organized national tours with mass rallies in which paying customers were said to experience trance, possession and a variety of other-worldly states. The authorities could not control the message. Qigong as Chinese science gave way to moral exhortations, supernatural powers and miraculous cures, all of which took as their point of departure traditional Chinese culture.
The Chinese Communist Party survived the catastrophic failure of Mao Zedong's Cultural Revolution by liberalizing the economy and appealing to patriotism. But the party's victories against the Japanese and the Nationalists of Chiang Kai-shek are now more than 50 years old.
China's rapid economic development has brought with it inequality, corruption and "Western" consumerism. Qigong and Falun Gong have offered a return to a timeless cultural pride based on reasserted Chinese values. Neither appears to have had overt political ambitions at the outset.
But their evocation of a different vision of Chinese tradition and its contemporary value is now threatening to the state and party because it denies them the sole right to define the meaning of Chinese nationalism, and perhaps of Chineseness.
The writer, associate professor of history at the University of Montreal, has published widely on Chinese secret societies and is author of a forthcoming book on Falun Gong. He contributed this comment to The New York Times.
LONDON--A senior Chinese official denies that members of the outlawed Falun Gong religious group have died in detention as a result of maltreatment or torture by Chinese authorities.
In an interview to be broadcast today, the Chinese Embassy spokesman in Washington, Zhang Yuan Yuan, said those group members who had died in detention were old, sick or had committed suicide.
"People died in detention, that's true," he told BBC World Service radio. "I can confirm that Falun Gong followers died in detention. But you have to ask how they died. So there are some who are old, sick and they commit suicide.
"They throw themselves against the wall and got themselves fatally injured, and they refused to eat, refused to take medicine, refused medical attention, and people also died of natural causes," he said.
Zhang said Chinese policy was to try to change the outlook of Falun Gong members.
Falun Gong members have protested almost daily in Beijing's Tiananmen Square since the movement was outlawed in 1999, and China's often harsh treatment of protesters has provoked widespread international concern.
Human rights groups say more than 100 Falun Gong followers have died of police beatings and other abuse. The sect says tens of thousands of its members have been sent to labor camps without trial.
BEIJING - A member of the banned Falun Gong spiritual movement died on Friday after setting himself on fire, the official Xinhua news agency said.
Tan Yihui, a 25-year-old shoe-polisher, died after setting himself alight at 12:06 p.m. on Friday (0400 GMT) in the Wanshoulu district in western Beijing, the report said.
The man, from the central province of Hunan, was dead when police arrived, it said.
The report comes weeks after five people, apparently members of the banned spiritual movement, set fire to themselves in January. Xinhua has reported that one woman died of her injuries and the others were in critical condition.
HONG KONG - Christian and human rights activists in Hong Kong rallied behind the controversial Falun Gong spiritual movement on Friday by protesting against the government for stepping up pressure on the group.
Holding banners, about 20 demonstrators lined up outside the office of Hong Kong leader Tung Chee-hwa and slammed the administration for its recent comments against Falun Gong, which is legal in the territory but banned in mainland China.
Their actions followed remarks by Tung last week in which he borrowed Beijing's line that the group had some characteristics of "an evil cult." Tung said the government would be keeping a close watch on the situation.
Tung's comments also angered members of the democratic camp who felt Hong Kong's promised independence was under threat with the government towing Beijing's position.
A statement issued by the protesters and signed by 30 local organisations accused the government of being "unreasonable and unjust" and infringing on freedoms in the former British colony, which was guaranteed a high degree of autonomy when it reverted to Chinese control in July 1997.
LAWMAKERS TO SEEK ANSWERS FROM GOVERNMENT
Local lawmakers will press the government to clarify its stand on Falun Gong in a special meeting next Tuesday.
"How could the government label a group as an evil cult just because a couple of people outside of the territory had burnt themselves alive?" legislator Andrew Cheng, who will chair the meeting, told Reuters, referring to a recent fiery mass suicide attempt by some Falun Gong followers in Beijing.
Cheng said the government would need to give a clear definition of what constitutes an "evil cult."
Falun Gong, based loosely on Buddhism, Taoism and traditional Chinese exercises, says it has millions of followers in China. It has shocked the Communist Party with its persistence and ability to organise mass protests but denies it has political interests.
BEIJING - Another purported member of the banned Falun Gong spiritual movement committed suicide by setting himself on fire Friday in Beijing, China's state-run Xinhua News Agency said.
Xinhua said Tan Yihui, a 25-year-old shoe shiner from southern Hunan province, set fire to himself in western Beijing.
A witness who called police saw Tan covered in gasoline and then saw him set himself on fire, Xinhua said. Police who arrived in three minutes found Tan still burning and put out the fire with extinguishers, but he was already dead, Xinhua said.
Police found a six-page letter near Tan's body explaining the act, Xinhua said. It did not say what those reasons were.
State-run television showed police covering a blackened body with a white sheet. It said Tan started practicing Falun Gong in 1997.
Tan was the sixth purported Falun Gong member to set fire to himself in Beijing in less than a month.
On Jan. 23, four women and a man soaked themselves with gasoline and set themselves on fire in Tiananmen Square. One woman died. The four injured included a 12-year-old girl, state media said.
Two other purported followers who planned to take part in the group suicide were stopped by police before they could set fire to themselves, state media said.
Falun Gong representatives in the United States have denied that the seven were genuine practitioners, saying the sect's philosophies forbid killing, including suicide.
There was no immediate comment from Falun Gong about the new immolation.
China's government has used the self-immolations to support its claims that Falun Gong is an evil cult and to whip up public backing for its relentless and sometimes brutal 19-month crackdown on the sect.
Beijing has ordered local governments and major state units across the mainland to set up anti-cult task forces in a further escalation of its already intensive crackdown on the Falun Gong movement.
The order to all levels of regional governments followed hard on Beijing's recent move to set up two central task forces to oversee the campaign, several sources with connections to the government said.
The two central task forces are headed by senior Communist Party officials.
The so-called ``June 10 Working Office'' is headed by Luo Gan, the party's main official in charge of maintaining law and order. It oversees the overall nationwide crackdown.
The second, the ``propaganda work office'', is headed by Liu Yunshan, the second-in-command of the party central committee's Propaganda Department. It is in charge of winning the media war. Mr Liu's second-in-command is Li Dongsheng, the party chief at and deputy head of China Central Television.
Mr Luo will have two deputies - Minister of Public Security Jia Chunwang and Minister of State Security Xu Yongyue.
The move to set up the task forces at both federal and state levels came after the Politburo, the party's top decision-making body, recently ordered an all-out campaign to completely root out the Falun Gong ``evil cult''.
Local governments in provinces, municipalities and counties are expected to set up their task forces immediately to enforce federal edicts in the nationwide campaign, according to an internal government circular recently sent to regional governments, sources said.
Major state-run enterprises, universities and social institutions are also expected to set up similar organs.
Propaganda officials said they had not seen a campaign undertaken on such a scale since the years of the Cultural Revolution between 1966 and 1976.
The propaganda office has ordered all state-run media to mount a saturation campaign to condemn the sect and educate the masses.
The Falun Gong, which claims 70 million members in the mainland alone, was banned by Beijing in July 1999 as an ``evil cult''. The move to set up the task forces follows the sect's vocal protests in Hong Kong and a mass suicide attempt in Tiananmen Square last month that the leadership blamed on the ``evil cult''.
Beijing launched its propaganda offensive on January 30 with official media giving prominent coverage to its allegations that the mass suicide attempt showed the ``evil'' nature of the sect.
In that event, a group of seven sect members tried to set fire to themselves in Tiananmen Square a week before, on the eve of the Lunar New Year. Five of them, including a 12-year-old girl and her mother, succeeded. The mother died.
What Is Falun Gong? See "Falun Gong 101", by Massimo Introvigne
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