A temple festival held by the Monga Qingshan Temple (艋舺青山宮) in Taipei’s Wanhua District (萬華) this month went on for three days, with firecrackers being set off even in the middle of the night.
Noisy crowds, street pollution, bloody fights, a building set alight by fireworks and even an alleged kidnapping caused a great deal of resentment among locals who were not among the worshipers.
More than 200 complaints were lodged about the pollution and noise, while most people just put up with it or complained about it online.
Even Minister of the Interior Hsu Kuo-yung (徐國勇) and independent Legislator Freddy Lim (林昶佐), who is seen as a leading sponsor of the festival, felt compelled to make statements, while writers and historians also aired their views.
Problems concerning folk beliefs and religion have come to the fore all over Taiwan in the past few years.
They have become mixed up with gangsters, entertainment and politics.
Temple festivals take up road space as marquees are set up. They hold up traffic, attract noisy crowds and cause pollution. Rival gangs often fight over who gets to carry the idols around on palanquins.
Religion is essentially about urging people to do good, so it is a matter of individual freedom, but it is also a private affair that should not affect other people.
However, it would be hard to find anywhere else like Taiwan, where temples great and small hold ceremonies at all times of the year with din tao (陣頭) religious performances, incense burning, fireworks and amplified sutra recitals, forcing their beliefs down other people’s throats.
This kind of culture is simply selfish.
The essence of Western civilization is unselfishness, law abidance and respect for others.
In a civilized society, the most important thing is to not inconvenience others.
That is why people say sorry if they accidentally touch someone and why they speak in hushed tones in public places. Such restraint is rare in our culture.
The idea in Taiwan is that I must let you know which god or gods I believe in. You have to know when my family is mourning the dead, and you have to hear whatever music I am listening to.
The illegal structures I build, the car I park anywhere I like, the banned substances I add to foods — as long as I can make money or gain some other benefit, I do not care whether it has a negative effect on you.
Taiwan suffers from selfishness and a lack of public ethics. Laws are badly formulated and poorly enforced, and many people knowingly break them.
The lawless temple culture only encourages this mentality.
Government officials imagine that all religions are the same. They do not understand this kind of selfish temple festival culture or seek to guide folk culture in a better direction. They only know how to curry favor with the masses.
That would explain why President Tsai Ing-wen (蔡英文) on Dec. 6 went to the Monga Qingshan Temple to pray and help carry a palanquin, apparently unaware of the controversy.
A legislator performed songs in the procession, but later said that he did not set off any firecrackers.
It brings to mind how a Democratic Progressive Party legislator and a Cabinet minister voiced their support for migrant workers’ Sunday Mass gatherings at Taipei Railway Station, apparently unaware that they are blocking Taiwan’s progress toward civilization.
Jeremy Wang is a retired family physician.
Translated by Julian Clegg
Jan. 1 marks a decade since China repealed its one-child policy. Just 10 days before, Peng Peiyun (彭珮雲), who long oversaw the often-brutal enforcement of China’s family-planning rules, died at the age of 96, having never been held accountable for her actions. Obituaries praised Peng for being “reform-minded,” even though, in practice, she only perpetuated an utterly inhumane policy, whose consequences have barely begun to materialize. It was Vice Premier Chen Muhua (陳慕華) who first proposed the one-child policy in 1979, with the endorsement of China’s then-top leaders, Chen Yun (陳雲) and Deng Xiaoping (鄧小平), as a means of avoiding the
The last foreign delegation Nicolas Maduro met before he went to bed Friday night (January 2) was led by China’s top Latin America diplomat. “I had a pleasant meeting with Qiu Xiaoqi (邱小琪), Special Envoy of President Xi Jinping (習近平),” Venezuela’s soon-to-be ex-president tweeted on Telegram, “and we reaffirmed our commitment to the strategic relationship that is progressing and strengthening in various areas for building a multipolar world of development and peace.” Judging by how minutely the Central Intelligence Agency was monitoring Maduro’s every move on Friday, President Trump himself was certainly aware of Maduro’s felicitations to his Chinese guest. Just
A recent piece of international news has drawn surprisingly little attention, yet it deserves far closer scrutiny. German industrial heavyweight Siemens Mobility has reportedly outmaneuvered long-entrenched Chinese competitors in Southeast Asian infrastructure to secure a strategic partnership with Vietnam’s largest private conglomerate, Vingroup. The agreement positions Siemens to participate in the construction of a high-speed rail link between Hanoi and Ha Long Bay. German media were blunt in their assessment: This was not merely a commercial win, but has symbolic significance in “reshaping geopolitical influence.” At first glance, this might look like a routine outcome of corporate bidding. However, placed in
China often describes itself as the natural leader of the global south: a power that respects sovereignty, rejects coercion and offers developing countries an alternative to Western pressure. For years, Venezuela was held up — implicitly and sometimes explicitly — as proof that this model worked. Today, Venezuela is exposing the limits of that claim. Beijing’s response to the latest crisis in Venezuela has been striking not only for its content, but for its tone. Chinese officials have abandoned their usual restrained diplomatic phrasing and adopted language that is unusually direct by Beijing’s standards. The Chinese Ministry of Foreign Affairs described the