The Soft Power Limits of Chinese Theravada
Buddhism
Zi Yang August 15, 2017
The Diplomat
Chinese Theravada Buddhism is in no position
to serve as a tool of soft power for the state.
For centuries Yunnan has served as China’s
gateway to Southeast Asia. Besides trade, an important component of
this linkage is the exchange of religion and religious groups, in
this case Theravada Buddhism. Since its 7th century arrival in
Yunnan via Myanmar, Theravada Buddhism has retained a position of
deep influence among the Dai, Blang, and Palaung nationalities of
the region.
Today, Theravada Buddhism remains a
significant cultural linkage between China and Southeast Asia.
Countries with the most Theravada Buddhists — Myanmar, Thailand,
Laos, and Cambodia — also happen to be key states on China’s land
and maritime silk road initiative. Cultivating ties with Theravada
Buddhist countries therefore makes sense in projecting a warmer and
softer image of China, in addition to allowing China access to
powerful members of the sangha that are not only venerated
community leaders, but also in some instances policy advisors to
high decision-makers.
But the general limits of Chinese Theravada
Buddhism seriously undercut any soft power initiative
overseas.
To begin with, Theravada is the smallest
school of Buddhism in China. Compared to Mahayana and Tibetan
Buddhism, which have millions of followers across large swaths of
the country, Theravada Buddhism’s influence is confined to border
regions near Myanmar and Laos.
Moreover, Theravada Buddhism suffered terribly
after the arrival of communism. In the name of anti-feudalism,
temples, pagodas, and Buddha statues were damaged or outright
destroyed. Monks were defrocked and persecuted, while all Buddhist
activities were banned.
Although state-led oppression started in the
late 1950s, these measures reached a climax during the Cultural
Revolution. Precious palm-leaf manuscripts were burned to ashes.
Everywhere in the Theravada country stood abandoned temples and
ruined pagodas. The Xishuangbanna General Buddhist Temple, China’s
largest Theravada temple founded in the 8th century, was totally
destroyed.
Like all other faiths, Theravada Buddhism
experienced a revival after the perilous Cultural Revolution years.
But this revitalization came slowly. While the rebuilding of
Buddhist temples was allowed again, local governments refused to
return temple-owned lands confiscated during the Mao years.
Although monks can study the scriptures again, they were placed
under the close watch of local state religious affairs
administrations, which control all activities within the
monkhood.
At present, Theravada Buddhism in China is in
a state of stagnation when compared to the flourishing developments
in neighboring countries. For one, there is a severe shortage of
monks. There is only one monk available for every two of Yunnan’s
Theravada temples. Due to the shortage, many temples had to shut
their gates to worshipers except during major Buddhist holidays.
The phenomenon of “empty temples” is quite haunting. 18.8 percent
of Xishuangbanna Prefecture’s temples stand empty. In Pu’er and
Lincang it is about 40 percent. While in Dehong Prefecture, the
number jumps to 90.1 percent, and in Mang City, 98.2
percent.
Foreign monks from Myanmar and Laos are often
invited to Yunnan temples in order to fulfill the shortage.
However, the government views these outsiders with distrust because
of their lack of political reliability. Trained outside China,
foreign monks are not filtered through the rigid political
indoctrination system that requires all monks to voice support for
the supremacy of the Chinese Communist Party, commitment to the
socialist path, national unity, and ethnic harmony. The party
expects monks to serve as propagandists, while foreign monks have
little to no conception regarding this matter.
Besides the political factors and the shortage
of monks, the lack of official funding and quality Buddhist schools
are also a problem.
Every year, the state allocates billions in
renovating Tibetan Buddhist temples and educating Tibetan clerics.
The same cannot be said for Theravada Buddhism. Unlike the
rebellious Tibetans, ethnic followers of Theravada Buddhism are
considered China’s “model minorities.” Despite cultural differences
between, say, the Dai and the Han, the former never agitated for
secession. Even with ethnic kinsmen across the border, the Dai
never showed any intention to break away. While this creates fewer
problems for the state, it brings in less money for Theravada
temples, as opposed to official attempts to buy Tibetan support
through patronizing Tibetan Buddhism.
There are only three schools in China that
offer Theravada education. But they all suffer from funding issues.
In addition, the quality of education is inferior compared to major
Theravada institutions in Thailand, for example. In fact, it is the
dream of many young novices to complete their higher education at
one of Thailand’s world-class Buddhist universities,
Mahachulalongkornrajavidyalaya University or Mahamakut Buddhist
University. There have been talks of building China’s first
advanced-level Pali-language school in Yunnan since 2012, but
nothing has come about except the purchase of a plot of
land.
In short, Chinese Theravada Buddhism is in no
position to serve as a soft power agent given its underdevelopment.
State policies show that government bureaucrats probably never even
recognized the value of Theravada Buddhism in benefiting China’s
relations with the outside world. Public diplomacy does not work in
a system where monks must get official approval for everything, be
it travelling overseas or hosting a simple religious event while
abroad. Sadly, Chinese Theravada Buddhism has always been on the
periphery of the Theravada world, and it looks like it will stay
there for the foreseeable future