Academic views on Falun Gong

This article does not treat the scholarly analysis of the suppression of the practice in China, but is focused on academic treatment of Falun Gong from other perspectives, such as its relationship to other beliefs, the role of Li Hongzhi in Falun Gong, Falun Gong’s relationship to wider society, the question of finance in Falun Gong both before and after it was transmitted directly by Li Hongzhi in Mainland China before the crackdown, as well as scholarship on the modern American anti-cult movement and its members' views on Falun Gong, along with counter-criticisms.

Some scholars such as Benjamin Penny of the Australian National University have given detailed treatments of Chinese Buddhist publications and what they have written on Falun Gong, while others such as Susan Palmer, David Ownby and PhD student Noah Porter, have made ethnographic studies of Falun Gong as it is currently transmitted and practiced in the United States. James Tong has written about the development of the campaign to persecute the practice in Mainland China, also analysing the use of the Communist states' media apparatus in its portrayal of Falun Gong as a well-financed organisation. Scholarly research on Falun Gong and its place in contemporary society has been approached from different angles. David Ownby, for example, has analysed Falun Gong from a historical Chinese perspective as well as commented on his personal experience of meeting modern Falun Gong practitioners. Ownby has also speculated on Falun Gong as a cultural renewal of ancient Chinese cultivation forms starting in the Ming dynasty. Stephen Chan has written about Falun Gong's relationship to Buddhism and other qigong, as well as commenting on deeper reasons behind the persecution in Mainland China.

Academic perspectives

Various scholars have written on the relationship between Falun Gong and other Chinese traditions, such as Buddhism, Taoism and qigong. These analyses have mainly emphasised the historical context of Falun Gong, looking at its emergence within Chinese society, in relation to the Chinese Communist Party, and together in relation to other traditional Chinese practices. Commentary has also given attention to the founder of Falun Gong, Li Hongzhi, including his supposed role within the teachings.

In the context of Buddhism

China scholar Benjamin Penny's 2005 publication The Falun Gong, Buddhism and "Buddhist qigong" attempts at an analysis of the early Buddhist critiques of Falun Gong, and likewise, early Falun Gong critiques of Buddhism. The article discusses both the Buddhist community in China's view on Li Hongzhi's use of words which have been traditionally associated with Buddhism, before also giving an account of how Li Hongzhi sees the use of these words and the relationship between Falun Gong and Buddhism. The article also makes makes some general comparisons between Falun Gong, Buddhism and qigong. Stephen Chan, writing in the International Relations journal Global Society, also discusses the relationship between Falun Gong and traditional Chinese qigong, Buddhism, and Taoism. He also talks about the teachings of Falun Gong in relation to Tibetan tantrism. At the same time he relates these to what he says are reasons which may underlie the persecution of the practice in China.

Penny talks about criticisms of Falun Gong in the post-suppression context of 1999, writing that “...books, journal articles, newspaper editorials, television specials and websites across China followed the lead of the major organs of the Party, the Xinhua news agency... in denouncing what became known as the “evil cult” of Falun Gong.” He goes on to point out that critiques from Buddhist circles appeared in a context where the leadership of Buddhist organisations were “...keenly aware of the possibility that [they] could be criticised by association...”, and as the official Buddhist body recognised by the Party, the Chinese Buddhist Association was “...especially keen to demonstrate its anti-Falun Gong credentials.” He also points out that the Buddhist community's response to Falun Gong could also have been due in part to Falun Gong's rapid growth in China, and that “...with a name redolent of Buddhism, must have given the Association's leadership reason for concern and compelled a response.” Finally, Penny says that in the 1999 post-persecution context, critiques of Falun Gong strategically emphasised that the Buddhist Association had already been critical of Falun Gong for 'the past few years.'

In the article, Penny also gives mention to Chen Xingqiao's critique of the doctrines of Falun Gong as compared with Buddhism, which were, unlike other critiques, unrelated to the Party's persecution. Chen states his disagreement with Li Hongzhi's teachings in his article “'Dharma Wheel Gongfu' is a heretic with the characteristics of folk religions and flaunting the banner of Buddhism – criticism of Li Hongzhi's Rolling Dharma Wheel and his Gongfu.” In one respect Chan's commentary coincides with Chen's. Both see Falun Gong as a popular form of qigong. Chan writes “ the actual teachings of the Falun Gong are strikingly simple... It is, in a way, ‘‘pop religion’’... It is also, in Chinese fashion, highly eclectic—so that its Buddhist core is overlaid with Taoisms and other mysticisms. Its symbol, or logo (it has a very fine Web site) is a mixture of Buddhist and Taoist emblems.” However, Chan and Chen differ on the subject of Falun Gong's persecution. Penny writes that in Chen's critique, he makes a strategic association of Falun Gong with Yiguan Dao, “...a famously banned and savagely suppressed religious group familiar by name...” and by doing this also suggests to his readers that “...Falun Gong, too, should be suppressed.” Chan suggests that in providing a metaphysical system which relates the life of man with the greater cosmos, Falun Gong presents a philosophy which in a sense bypasses the state. He suggests that this in part may have led to the decision of persecution made by the Chinese authorities. Thus, though Chan writes that “The Falun Gong poses no political threat to the Chinese government and, indeed, there is no overt, programmatic, or deliberate political or reform agenda within the Falun doctrine” and further, that the Chinese government could “...easily ignore it, if it chose to do so” he says that the Party chose not to do so. This is not because of the doctrines of Falun Gong itself, but simply because Falun Gong is outside of the communist apparatus: “The Falun Gong is not a problem for the government, but a problem of the type of government in China.”

Chan's analysis juxtaposes with Chen's also on another point. Chen disagrees with Li Hongzhi that Falun Gong and Buddhism are fundamentally different, and criticizes Li Hongzhi's use of Chinese terms which have traditionally been associated with Buddhism. He also disagrees with some of Li Hongzhi's teachings on the nature of Buddhahood, “...in which different Buddhas are are said to exist in different dimensions, represent[ing] the attainment of different levels of enlightenment.” Chen argues with this, and says that while there are many different Buddhas, “...there is but one enlightenment, and that as equally enlightened beings, all of the Buddhas enjoy equal status.” Penny gives a final contextualisation for Chen's critique, stating that "It is possible to speculate that Chen’s long article, and the meeting that preceded it, were prompted by concerns within orthodox Buddhist circles not for the general health of Chinese society, but for the confusion among Buddhists – over whether Falun Gong was, or was not, Buddhism and whether it was, or was not, possible to be both a Buddhist and a Falun Gong practitioner – as well as with what must have seemed the alarming rate of Falun Gong’s growth. By the late 1990s Falun Gong must, therefore, have been offering enough competition to Buddhism for the Buddhist Association to feel it necessary to make the kind of critique that would invite its suppression." In contrast to this, Stephen Chan's analysis of Falun Gong, qigong and Buddhism focuses on the similarities between the traditions. He introduces Falun Gong by saying it is a type of qigong, based on the belief in "...a series of exercises and meditational practices that cultivate the Qi or invisible energy." This energy travels through conduits in the body known as 'meridians', the same as those referred to in acupuncture. Chan says that Chinese and Tibetan cosmology here share a similarity "...in proposing the body as a microcosm and metaphor of the universe...", with both the human body and cosmos being made up of and driven by Qi. Later, Chan draws parallels between Falun Gong and Buddhism, in saying that the two share a central doctrine "...and that is the good served by one subject being compassionate towards another subject." This is explained as an unconditional compassion, with no need or expectation for external result. This puts the giver within the Fa, explained as "...the ‘‘law’’ or way that leads—through an awful lot of giving, through several incarnations—eventually to bliss."

Penny moves on to how Li Hongzhi understands the relation between Falun Gong and Buddhism, and also mentions a critique of Li Hongzhi on modern Buddhism. He says that Li Hongzhi makes “...a distinction between fojia and fojiao—that is, between, literally, a school of the Buddha (whatever that might mean) and a religion or teaching of the Buddha.” Although Falun Gong is part of the Buddha School, Li states in Zhuan Falun that “it has nothing to do with the original Buddhism or Buddhism in the Dharma-ending period.” Thus Li Hongzhi understands Falun Gong to be fundamentally different from Buddhist religion, though maintains that it is a part of the Buddha School, which is “...constituted cosmically”, and includes as Li Hongzhi says, "Tiantai, Huayan, Zen Buddhism, Pure Land, Tantrism etc." The idea is that "...the cultivation component of all these appears to be separable from the religious component." “He tells us that among the features of the Buddha school are the cultivation of Buddhahood and the belief in predestined relationships.” which are included in the teachings of Falun Gong.

Chan also provides a point of differentiation between Falun Gong and Buddhism, with the teachings of Falun Gong appearing “...not only eclectic but somewhat conservative, even prudish.” He says that while Li Hongzhi discusses 'other Buddhist schools', he expresses some reservations about the use of tantric practices, which are characterised in Chan as 'extremely problematic' and easy to improperly undertake. Penny writes that another one of Li Hongzhi's critiques of Buddhism is that “...while the original form of Buddhism, Sakyamuni's Buddhism, was somehow pure, it has declined over the centuries through the intervention of a degenerate priesthood.” Penny says that in Li's view, while what Sakyamuni taught was a cultivation system, after his nirvana monks that followed used their own understanding and level of enlightenment to interpret his words. Thus, “the Buddhist Dharma [was] distorted beyond recognition.” Chan says that Li Hongzhi is not preaching a “...Tibetan doctrine of the self-creation of gods...” but instead “...a self-creation of good.” whereby neither the state nor society is able to create the good, but that the good creates them. “In an esoteric (if accessible) and conservative way, the Falun Gong is elevating a normative value above everything else... an essential elevation of good as a governing norm.”

In the context of Qigong

Qigong is a term coined in the twentieth-century for a wide variety of traditional “cultivation” practices. 'Qi' means 'cosmic breath', 'life force', or 'energy' and is supposed to refer to a “physical force” which travels through the body along channels; the subject of acupuncture. In qigong discourse, qi is able to be captured through specific gestures, exercises or meditative techniques. Ownby suggests that in general, through qigong practice practitioners seek improved physical and spiritual health. Ownby suggests that the currency of the term bespoke of a cultural desire to separate “cultivation” from “superstition,” to secularize and preserve valuable aspects of traditional Chinese practices.

Ian Johnson in his book Wild Grass attempts to give a historical context for the rise of qigong, and subsequently Falun Gong, within modern Chinese society. Montreal scholar David Ownby understands qigong as a development of post-Mao China, and also explains Falun Gong within qigong's historical context. Johnson contends that with the end of the Cultural Revolution came an implicit admission in China that Marxist ideology was useless, and that the “totalitarian state” wherein the party leader was “god” was all but defunct. A spiritual crisis thus ensued. Because the “big religions” were desecrated and banned during the Cultural Revolution, to many Chinese they no longer held the attraction they once did. Qigong is said to have evolved within this historical context, as a “spiritual, slightly mystical branch of Chinese medicine.” Ownby gives a similar account of the history of qigong in China. Qigong was promoted in post-Mao China for both practical and ideological reasons, and in this period it took on "unprecedented importance." On a practical level, promotion of qigong practice was hoped to improve the general health of the populace and thus curtail government healthcare expenditure. Ideologically, Ownby contends that many within the Communist government were "quite taken" with the idea of qigong being a specifically "Chinese science," a part of the PRC's "new nationalism, a frequently chauvinistic claim to cultural greatness and superpower status." Qigong was not considered religious either by the authorities or by qigong practitioners, which immensely helped its growth. Eventually the state-administered China Qigong Scientific Research Association was formed, supposed to register qigong groups and conduct “scientific” research. By the time the association was established, there were already 2000 qigong organisations and between 60 and 200 million practitioners across China.

Qigong quickly became a social phenomenon of “considerable importance”; the topic was also explored by novelists and journalists, and qigong newspapers and magazines appeared in abundance to cater for the public's interest in the subject. The original small-group, master-disciple patten was transformed into a mass experience, with qigong “masters” organising “mass rallies” to demonstrate to paying customers a range of qigong specific phenomena such as trance, possession, and a variety of otherworldly states. Qigong was practised widely in public parks and on university campuses. Demographics included both the "old and suffering" as well as the "young and curious." Ownby suggests that the profile of qigong practitioners during this period fit that of the Chinese population in general, “men and women, rich and poor, educated and uneducated, powerful and powerless, urban and rural, Party and non-Party.”

Johnson writes that the early 1990s saw a “qigong craze”, with qigong being a widely accepted part of society. Qigong was able to adapt itself to a scientific discourse, which allowed it to survive the suspicions of the atheist state. It was heralded as a form of physical therapy, to be supervised by doctors. Experiments were conducted which purported that qigong could cure chronic health problems. Claims that qigong could have some role in developing latent “supernatural powers” of the human body also emerged. Ownby lists some of the “supernatural powers” qigong was thought to be able to confer on adepts, such as the ability to levitate, heal illness, telekenis through emissions of qi, the ability to “read via the ear,” and a “host of other remarkable talents, many of which would fall under our category of extrasensory perception.”

Johnson opines that the Party was to some degree still distrustful of qigong. Qigong remained a private exercise, as opposed to formal religions which center on temples, churches and mosques. These can be run by government officials and are ensured to remain loyal to the state. Johnson's analysis here coincides with that of Chan. While qigong is focused inwardly, outside the state's control, it is performed publicly in groups: “To a government that is used to controlling all aspects of public life, this is perplexing: qigong practitioners are in public and doing something en masse, so by rights they should be formed in an organisation and this organisation should in some way be run by the government. But what they are doing together is meditating, an inner discipline that the party can't monitor.” Ownby suspects that qigong's ostensible autonomy from the state is in fact partly what contributed to it's great popularity. Johnson writes that the 1990s saw an “uneasy standoff"; the “Three Nos” policy was adopted: No Promoting, No Criticizing, No Debating.

Johnson describes Falun Gong as “...the next logical step in qigong's development.” He writes that “while firmly stating that Falun Gong was not a religion, Master Li drew on traditional religions for terminology and symbols.” The term “Falun” means Dharma Wheel, or Wheel of Law, a traditional Buddhist symbol of the “immutable forces in the world” This is said to contain elements of well-known religious imagery—a “well established part of Chinese cosmology.” Falun Gong's sign is a wheel, a circle made up of a central, counterclockwise-pointing swastika, a traditional Buddhist symbol. This is surrounded by four smaller swastikas and four small yin-yang, or t'ai chi, symbols, a traditional Taoist sign. Ownby writes that Li emerged in 1992 in order to “rectify” the broader qigong movement. Li, according to Ownby, saw qigong as “rife with false teachings and greedy and fraudulent 'masters.'” Li understood himself and Falun Gong as part of a “centuries-old tradition of cultivation,” and in his texts would often attack those who teach “incorrect, deviant, or heterodox ways.” Johnson suggests that while initially Falun Gong laid emphasis on health benefits, over time “the philosophical teachings of Truth, Goodness and Forbearance began to take on more importance.” He writes that in the context of Falun Gong, these principles require people to live “upright lives.” A traditional morality—what Ownby calls “popular fundamentalism,” a supposed return to moral values that numerous Chinese “feel have been lost in the rush to modernisation.”

Johnson suggests that Li Hongzhi's emphasis on compatibility with science is an interesting feature of the practice. “Indeed, like other qigongs, Falun Gong positions itself as a kind of Über-science, something that is modern but even better than modern. [Li's] writings refer to extraterrestrial life and the cosmos, but also of the qigong practitioner's ability to surpass these truths.” Ownby elaborates on aspect of Falun Gong, noting that Li distinguished himself from other qigong masters by teaching that the goal of qigong cultivation was more than simply for "getting fit or developing ESP or supernatural powers"—Li sought to develop a greater history, theory and meaning behind cultivation. Ownby later delineates the kinds of discourse that Falun Gong taps into. There is the discourse of the suffering body, which holds the possibility of freedom from illness and physical suffering; the discourse of limitless human potential, where physical transformation is chiefly effected by moral practice, the basic notion that “the righteous have the power”; and the discourse of exile and return, a discourse of world creation, degeneration, and salvation/renewal.

Ownby comments that the emergence of Falun Gong and qigong coincided at a historic moment where technology and means of communication—such as books, tapes, television and Internet—were greatly advanced, allowing such groups to become aware of their size and geographical reach. This growth of self-consciousness, he points out, is particularly notable in the case of Falun Gong. Ownby suggests that this is a paradoxical situation of a deeply rooted Chinese tradition now adapting to a modern setting. This has seen the Chinese diaspora—particularly of North America—utilize modern technology alongside discourses of Enlightenment, and more topically, of human rights. Ownby concludes with the observation that despite being far from the original intentions of the “esoteric truths” expounded by “charismatic masters,” traditional practices like Falun Gong may in fact now unwittingly contribute to the creation of a civil society in China.

Li Hongzhi

Some scholars suggest that Li Hongzhi assumes the role of a supernatural entity within the teachings of Falun Gong. Others dispute this formulation. Maria Hsia Chang, for example, opines that “If Li Hongzhi’s disciples can become gods by engaging in Falun Gong, it stands to reason that the founder of this cultivation practice must himself be a deity.” Though on this point Johnson provides a different interpretation. He suggests that Li Hongzhi emphasises his teachings as simple revelations of “eternal truths”, known since “time immemorial” but which have been corrupted over the course of time. Johnson opines that Li does not claim to be a “messiah or god”, but “only a wise teacher who has seen the light.”

Chang also attempts to draw a parallel between Falun Gong and groups such as the White Lotus or Boxers in Chinese history. Johnson suggests that this sort of argumentation is "deeply flawed."

Chang refers to Li Hongzhi's teaching on the "Dharma-ending period." She opines that this is apocalyptic, and that "Li has set about disseminating Falun Dafa so as 'to provide salvation to mankind….in this final period of the Last Havoc.'" Penny disagrees with this interpretation and dissuades from considering Falun Gong as one of "these genuinely apocalyptic groups", or "that kind of organisation that believes that the world's going to end next Thursday." He considers Falun Gong "an entirely different thing", and suggests that Li Hongzhi's teachings ought to be considered in the context of a "much more Buddhist notion of the cycle of the Dharma or the Buddhist law."

Chinese cult critic Sima Nan refers to Chinese history as full of charismatic masters like Li Hongzhi, and linked to Li's exercises to Chairman Mao Zedong's cult of personality. [7]

Falun Gong and finance

James Tong writes about the competing claims by Falun Gong and the Chinese government in 'The China Quarterly' journal, 2003. He writes that the government has attempted to portray Falun Gong as being financially savvy with a centralised administration system and a variety of mechanisms for deriving profit from the practice. He also looks over Falun Gong's claims of having no hierarchy, administration, membership or financial accounts, and that seminar admission was charged at a minimal rate. Tong writes that it was in the government's interest, in the post-crackdown context, to portray Falun Gong as being highly organised: "The more organized the Falun Gong could be shown to be, then the more justified the regime’s repression in the name of social order was." He writes that the government's charges that Falun Gong made excessive profits, charged exorbitant fees, and that Li Hongzhi led a lavish lifestyle "...lack both internal and external substantiating evidence" and that "Although the regime had detained the top leadership, interrogated many more of its cadres and scrutinized its internal documents, it had disclosed no financial accounts that established the official charge and credibly countered Falun Gong rebuttals."

Noah Porter in his thesis took up the issue of Falun Gong and finance in Mainland China. He quotes and responds to some of the allegations of the Chinese Communist Party that Li benefited financially from teaching the practice. Porter writes that when teaching seminars, there was an admission of 40 yuan per new practitioner and 20 yuan for repeat practitioners--with the repeat practitioners making up for 50-75% of the admissions. He goes on to say with respect to the CCP's claims: "...but the Chinese government figures for the profits of the seminars counted all attendees as paying the 40-yuan fee charged to newcomers. Also, the Chinese Qigong Research Society received 40% of admission receipts from July 1993 to September 1994. Falun Gong’s first four training seminars took in a total of 20,000 yuan, which is only 10% of the 200,000 figure cited by the Chinese government. Finally, from that 20,000 yuan, they had several operating expenses..."

Li Hongzhi stipulated that transmitting the teaching could never be done for fame and money, and that practitioners must not accept any fee, donation or gift in return for their "voluntarily teaching the practice." According to Falun Gong, Li's insistence that the practice be offered free of charge caused a rift with the China Qigong Research Society, the state administrative body under which Falun Dafa was initially introduced. Li subsequently withdrew from the organization.

A current principal Falun Gong website states on their 'Learning Falun Dafa' page, in asterisks, that "All Falun Gong Activities Are Free of Charge and Run by Volunteers"

In an interview in Sydney on May 2, 1999, Li revealed his poor financial status in the following statement: “In mainland China I published so many books, but added together, they haven't exceeded twenty thousand Renminbi (equivalent to US $ 2,469). This is what the publishing company gave me. When publishing books in other countries of the world, you know there is a rule, which pays 5 or 6% royalties to the author, so each time I can only get a little bit, a few hundred, or a few thousand dollars.”

Although Li Hongzhi has not financially benefited from his teachings according to Falun Gong, his [Li's] wife, Li Rui, was reported in the Wall Street Journal as buying a Queens residence for $293 500 in June 1998, and another house costing $580 000 in May 1999." Until Li began transmitting Falun Dafa in 1992, he and his wife each earned less than $500 a year at a state-owned grain company in Jilin, China. After the Wall Street Journal article, a practitioner, John Sun, published a rebuttal letter on a Falun Gong website asserting that he bought the New Jersey house for Li's family, but the gift was firmly refused by Li.

Research into health effects

Research conducted into the health benefits of Falun Dafa include work by Quan-Zhen Li (Ph.D, M.D), Richard J. Johnson (M.D.), Ping Li (Ph.D) et al. Their paper titled Genomic Profiling of Neutrophil Transcripts in Asian qigong Practitioners: A Pilot Study in Gene Regulation by Mind–Body[8][9] reports the result of studies conducted on Neutrophils/polymorphonuclear leukocytes (PMNs) of Falun Gong practitioners. The study reports that among the 6 practitioners on whom the genomic profiling was done, in comparison to the control group, about 200 genes were found consistently up-regulated or down-regulated.

The Falun Dafa Australia website lists three surveys conducted in China in 1998, all of which suggest significant improvement in health levels. While the latter two provide no information related to who performed the surveys, the first lists a team of eleven researchers assembled from various institutes, hospitals, and universities. This survey was conducted on over ten thousand Falun Gong adherents in Beijing. The results suggest that among the participants Falun Gong’s disease healing rate was 99.1% with a cure rate of 58.5% The rate of improvement, according to the statistics collected, were 80.3% in physical health and 96.5% in mental health. The results of this survey suggest that Falun Gong has a significant effect in disease healing and improving health.

While the specifics of these findings are open to further research and interpretation, they are broadly consistent with a large body of scientific work that has found health benefits to meditative practices.

Falun Gong and the Anti-Cult Movement

The Anti-Cult Movement (ACM) began in the 1970s in the United States as an organised opposition to new religions. Its constituents are former sect members, parents of members, clergy of competing religious groups, fundamentalists and mental health practitioners. Ian Johnson contends that the movement lost steam after western anxieties over cults subsided in 1990s, and that now ACM members are mostly confined to adherents of established religions--"in other words, people with a vested interest in attacking new groups." The "highly organised movement" is spearheaded by the American Family Foundation, a Christian-right group, and now has branches in various parts of the world. The movement is based on the theory of "brainwashing," and specifically, that new social or religious movements may "brainwash" people into participating in them, use "mental control techniques" to prevent them from leaving, and generally rob them of their free will. Edelman and Richardson writing in the Journal of Church and State, maintain that this is an "unsupported" theory with no scientific basis. They suggest the ACM has an "unsavoury history" which includes kidnapping, and is not a reliable source for scientific information. They state that despite a lack of "empirical verification or general acceptance in the scientific community," the doctrines and theories behind the ACM have strongly influenced, and been largely adopted by the China Anti Cult Association (CACA), and employed specifically to assist in the persecution of Falun Gong in China.

Some members of the American anti-cult movement, including Rick Ross, Margaret Singer and Steven Hassan, have criticised and attacked Falun Gong, suggesting that it is, or shares some characteristics of "a cult." They point to certain remarks made by Li Hongzhi, the founder of Falun Gong, and claim that he meets their definition of a "manipulative cult leader." Academics such as Patsy Rahn have also published their concerns about Falun Gong in cultic studies journals. Other academics and institutions in the west have rejected these claims, and as with the ACM as a whole, the theories which underlie these views have also been criticised as "pseudoscience." Singer, Rahn and Hassan base their criticism on textual analysis of Falun Gong, and have not engaged in any ethnographic contact. Several North American researchers such as Susan Palmer, David Ownby and Noah Porter have engaged in both ethnographic and textual studies of Falun Gong, and published findings which are contrary to the ACM, indicating that Falun Gong is not a cult, has no formal organisation, no obligations of any kind, and that practitioners live normal lives and "participate in Falun Gong as much or as little as they like." Edelman and Richardson see the "cult" label in this context as no more than a "convenient political tool" for the Chinese Communist Party to repress Falun Gong under false pretences. David Kilgour and David Matas have come to similar conclusions in their report, and see the "cult" label as a means of attempting to make the persecution appear legitimate.

Purported relation to society

Based on textual analysis, Rahn has written about aspects of Falun Gong that she considers problematic for what she sees as a negative view of "ordinary people." According to Rahn, “Li says all non-practitioners are ‘ordinary people’" She claims that Li regards "ordinary people" as "degenerate, likely to be bad, likely to disturb you and likely to contaminate you.” She says that this alleged “us-versus-them” division creates a potential problem, because it can isolate “…practitioners from family and friends as well as non-practitioners in general. She claims that it can also help create what she calls a "feedback loop system," wherein practitioners are supposed only to relate "to other practitioners." Rahn claims that this will have the effect of "mutually reinforcing belief in the teachings," and that practitioners will increase their "identification" with the group, at the same time that alternative or conflicting views undergo "eradication."

Porter writes that “Most who have written about Falun Gong have simply relied upon the writings of Li Hongzhi, the websites, and newspaper articles for their information about Falun Gong, and then applied the theoretical perspective of their discipline and their personal perspective in analyzing it.”Porter writes that he has hoped to "bridge" this communications gap with an anthropological study of Falun Gong, "to promote a broader understanding." He also expresses a general strong disagreement with other critics who based their work solely on textual analysis, and in response to Rahn’s claims specifically, who he points out did not consist of any fieldwork or contact with practitioners, states in his thesis several times that “…practitioners do not isolate themselves from non-practitioners” and are always exposed to different “identity streams,” which he defines as "different forms of media, people, and ideas."

According to Philip Jenkins (2000) (quoted by Porter 2003), along with fringe religious groups almost always came movements to denounce or even eradicate them. The definition of a cult was not created in a vacuum, but rather is "a prefabricated script some centuries in the making, incorporating charges that might originally have been developed long ago against a wide variety of movements." Porter further points out that supernormality was already a part of qigong before Falun Gong was introduced, as was moral guidance, and that "Falun Gong does not force practitioners to sign contracts, threaten physical or economic harm for apostasy, or any other such coercive methods that are often attributed to cults." He writes that if someone tried Falun Gong and disliked it for any reason, they would have nothing to fear from practitioners. He notes that practitioners are aware that Falun Gong "...does not fit neatly into categories like qigong or religion, and some [practitioners] are looking for more accurate ways of describing it to non-practitioners." Porter also opines that it is unfair to make comparisons between Falun Gong and cults such as People's Temple and Branch Davidians: "such statements irresponsibly leave the impression that Falun Gong has similarities to these violent groups, when in fact Falun Gong practitioners have consistently refused to use violence against those who persecute them."

Ian Johnson writes that the Communist Party's claim that Falun Gong was a "cult" gave the western anti-cult movement a new cause. People external to the events in China would spend their time "debating obscure definitions of Master Li's works, trying to prove that the group was potentially dangerous." He says that one western academic published a paper which pleaded for an understanding of the Party's response to Falun Gong over concerns related to its teachings, and that there was a "legitimate right to fear the group." "This, even though the government had only interested itself in Falun Gong because of its demonstration in downtown Beijing, not because of its teachings." Most fundamentally, he contends, "what was often forgotten in the learned discourse was that the government, not Falun Gong, was killing people."

The "thought control" theory

The late psychologist Margaret Singer shared her thoughts about Falun Gong in a New York Times article, opining that while others will say that Falun Gong is not a cult, it "looks like a cult" to her. She claims that her criteria is "a self-appointed person with secret knowledge to share," and who subsequently manages to "get his followers convinced" that he is the "pipeline to eternal good life." She suggests that this description "sound[s] like Master Li..." In her book Cults in our Midst, Singer talks about how “cults” are supposed to relate to their "followers"; “they tend to view the outside world with increasing hostility and distrust.” Later in the book she claims that Li Hongzhi "promises" that his disciples will "achieve a state of grace," but that he has "contempt and indifference" for everyone one else. She claims that Li said, referring to a non-practitioner 'no matter how he does damage to his body, we do not care.' Later in her book, she describes herself as having "no doubt" that Falun Gong has many features of a "true cult," which is said to include "utter obedience to a charismatic leader, coercive thought control, financial exploitation of its followers, a doomsday prediction that promises salvation only through total obedience and subservience to the cult leader, zero tolerance for dissent, and a very strict organization from which it is difficult to escape."

However, Margaret Singer's "thought control" theory greatly divides scholars. The scientific evidence on any "thought control" phenomena remains inconclusive. For example, in 1984 the American Psychological Association (APA) requested Margaret Singer to set up a working group called Task Force on Deceptive and Indirect Methods of Persuasion and Control (DIMPAC). In 1987, the committee submitted its final report to the Board of Social and Ethical Responsibility for Psychology of the APA. On 11 May 1987 the Board rejected the report. In the rejection memo is stated: "Finally, after much consideration, BSERP does not believe that we have sufficient information available to guide us in taking a position on this issue." The Center for Studies on New Religions wrote in Margaret Singer's obituary that "Singer's decline started with the rejection of a report of a commission she had chaired by the American Psychological Association in 1987," and referred to another ruling of 1990, which excluded "her testimony on brainwashing as not part of mainline science." Though Singer is still supposed to be "lionized by the anti-cult movement" and "some media," the article contends that her increased reception of criticism "even by 'moderate' anti-cultists," means that she has appeared "increasingly irrelevant" to the "'new' cult wars of the late 1990s." Singer's theory has both its detractors and supporters.

Stephen Hassan attempts to construct a theoretical model for understanding how "thought control" might operate. He suggests a BITE (Behavior, Information, Thought and Emotion) model, where "mind control" is as a combination of control over behavior, information, thought and emotions. Three of Mr. Hassan's criteria--control of behavior, thoughts and emotions--were components to the theory of cognitive dissonance developed by Leon Festinger. According to Hassan, "it is by manipulating these three elements that cults gain control over a person's identity." Claiming to draw on his experience working with "former cult members," Hassan adds a fourth component to his BITE model--control of information. For each of these components, Hassan provides a list of specific practices (e.g.: a need to internalize a group's doctrine as "Truth" is one aspect of Thought Control). Hassan suggests that "destructive mind control" can be determined when the "overall effect" of these four elements "promotes dependency and obedience to some leader or cause." He qualifies that it is not necessary for "every single item" to be included. He contends that "mind-controlled cult members" can be integrated members of society, but "still be unable to think for themselves and act independently." With regard to Falun Gong, Hassan claims on his website to have a "strong impression" that "Thought control and Phobia indoctrination is very much used," and elsewhere that Li Hongzhi is "the cult extreme" and the "authoritarian stereotype." Though he says that he has not had an opportunity to interview any "individuals who have been very involved with this group and decided to leave," and is thus not convinced that Falun Gong "fulfils [his] BITE model in its entirety."

According to an essay published in The Oxford Handbook of New Religious Movements, the "mind control" and "brainwashing" theories advocated by the anti-cult movement are not generally accepted by the scientific community. Lorraine Derocher has asked whether this kind of "cultism" could be perceived as "a new form of racism." Another name in the anti-cult movement, Jean-Marie Abgrall, had his version of the "cultic brainwashing theory" attacked by the Social Justice Research, which contends that upon analysis, the theory is "essentially identical to the pseudoscientific theory that was developed first by the American CIA as a propaganda device to combat communism," and further as an ideological device that was put to use by the American anti-cult movement, in an attempt to rationalize efforts of persecution and control of minority religious groups. It is claimed that the theory has been researched and evaluated scientifically in several contexts, and in each of them has been shown to be "ineffective in coercively changing worldviews." The article concludes that because of this pattern of disconfirmation, testimony based on brainwashing theory has been opposed as unscientific by relevant professional academic organizations and "repeatedly excluded from American legal trials." It states that as a consequence, "neither legal decisions nor public policy with respect to minority religions should be based on Abgrall's appropriation of this pseudoscientific theory."

David Ownby, Director of the Centre of East Asian studies at the University of Montreal and a specialist in modern Chinese history, comes to very different conclusions from Singer, Hassan and Rahn. Ownby concludes as part of his key fieldwork-based findings, that Falun Gong is "by no means a cult," and that Falun Gong practitioners in North America are well-educated and tend to live in nuclear families. "Many work with computers or in finance; some are engineers." It is further contended that practitioners do not have "financial obligations to their faith community," and that they do not "live in isolation" and are "law-abiding."

David Kilgour suggests that Ownby’s conclusion is similar to that of many independent observers, including that of himself and David Matas, co-author of the organ harvesting report. Kilgour says that in their experience, practitioners appear to be “…good citizens and exemplary members of their respective civil societies.” Kilgour and Matas further opine that Falun Gong shares none of the characteristics of a cult, having no membership, offices or officials. They again draw on Ownby's research, and say that there is no penalty for leaving Falun Gong, "since there is nothing to leave." Practitioners are said to be free to engage in Falun Gong practice "as little or as much as they see fit. They can start and stop at any time. They can engage in their exercises in groups or singly." Li Hongzhi is referred to as the "author of the books which inspired Falun Gong practitioners," and is "not worshipped," nor receives money from practitioners. "He is a private person who meets rarely with practitioners," and transmits his "advice to practitioners" in the form of "conference lectures" and "published books"--which is "publicly available information."

Additionally, Li Hongzhi emphasizes in his lectures the importance of maintaining normal relationships in society. In Zhuan Falun Li states “The majority of people in our school will practice cultivation in ordinary human society, so you should not distance yourself from ordinary human society and you must practice cultivation with a clear mind. The relationships among one another should remain normal.”

Sociologist Susan Palmer's field notes and a preliminary research report on Falun Dafa practitioners were released in the Nova Religio journal (nr. 4, 1 October 2000). She writes that when she first began to study Falun Gong, she expected to quickly uncover an “efficient core group behind the scenes” who were masterminding activities. She writes however, that “...Falun Gong does not behave like other new religions. For one thing, its organization - if one can even call it that - is quite nebulous. There are no church buildings, rented spaces, no priests or administrators. At first I assumed this was defensive, that they had established guerrilla-style cells to fend off an intolerant Communist Party.” She continues though, that she was made to reassess her first position, and “...now, I'm beginning to think that what you see is exactly what you get - Master Li's letters on the Net on the one hand and a global network of practitioners on the other. Traveling through North America, all I dug up was a handful of volunteer contact persons. The local membership (they vehemently reject that word) is whoever happens to show up at the park on a particular Saturday morning to do qigong.”

Cult labelling

See further: the "cult" label of Falun Gong as used in state propaganda

The ACM's position on Falun Gong has been criticised by some and described as being used as tool for marginalisation and repression. In 2000, the China Anti-Cult Association (CACA) was founded, based largely on the controversial theories of the ACM. Consisting of scholars, religious leaders and journalists, it was supposed to be a nonprofit organisation with no connection to the Party, and undertake the work of "educating the public" about the "threat posed by evil cults." The CACA was founded by He Zuoxiu, a physicist, and long standing and outspoken critic of Falun Gong. The authors, Edelman and Richardson, note that He Zuoxiu, like a large proportion of the academics listed as members of the CACA, have no relation with the study of religion or new social movements--they are often experts in fields such as aerodynamics, or hydroelectric engineering. Some of the main publicised claims of the CACA about Falun Gong are that Li Hongzhi "dominates" and "controls" the minds of Falun Gong practitioners, and causes them to "threaten social stability." It is "unsurprising" to them that no scientific evidence is put forth to support the idea that Li is able to control the minds of practitioners.

Another prong of the Party's attack on Falun Gong came about after September 11, 2001, with the accusation that Falun Gong was a "terrorist organisation," the corresponding story claiming that a letter laced with anthrax was sent to a government institution by Falun Gong. The terrorist label is also supposed to be an appealing weapon to the Party. Edelman and Richardson write that if the international community were to accept Falun Gong as a terrorist organisation, they would assist the Chinese government by removing safe-havens for practitioners fleeing state-repression.

They conclude that because the Party has become more sensitive to international criticism over human rights issues, the ACM and its ideology have become tools for the party to "create the illusion that the rule-of-law has been upheld" while committing crimes against Falun Gong practitioners. The goal is for Falun Gong to become a socially constructed “cultic threat” to Chinese society and the world. The definition of "cult" is lax, and the Chinese government is armed with weapons to attack “any religious, qigong, or sectarian movement its sees as a potential threat to its authority.” By labelling the practice and representing practitioners as passive followers being controlled by a dangerous leader, the Party is allowed to "aggressively destroy the group," and at the same time claim to be protecting religious freedom. "In this respect, the Western Anti-Cult Movement has served, unwittingly or not, as a lackey in the party's efforts to maintain its political dominance."

Former Canadian Secretary of State David Kilgour and human rights lawyer David Matas also take up the issue of whether Falun Gong is a cult or not in their Revised Report into Allegations of Organ Harvesting of Falun Gong Practitioners in China. They also contend that the CCP's labelling of Falun Gong as an “evil cult” is defamation, incitement to hatred and dehumanization, and is merely a pretext for the government's repression of the practice. They state that “this labelling does not explain why that repression arose. The 'evil cult' label is a manufactured tool of repression, but not its cause."

Dr Heather Kavan, a specialist in world relgions in Massey university, saw Falun Gong as a "potential terrorist group". Citing from the paper "Dangerous organisations or dangerous situations?", Kavan linked Falun Gong with the Aum Shinrikyo group, which was responsible for the 1995 Sarin gas attack in Toyko. The paper asserted that any religious group in which a guru induced others to be totally dependent on him and his allegedly supernatural powers, while preaching the imminent end of the world, was intrinsically violent. According to Kavan, the description could apply to many religious organisations that have never engaged in terrorism, and cited what she saw as several triggers that could push a non-violent group into violence, such as negative publicity from authorities, the news media, or disgruntled ex-members. Kavan asserted, "Leaders who profess to have an omniscient edge on the rest of us obviously have a greater potential than others to incite violence. Factors that may trigger violence (including suicides) in so-called cults are: negative publicity, impending police raids, exposes from ex-members, public humiliation of the leader, and – more importantly – likely loss of credibility."