Shaolin Temple Rakes In Cash and Controversy
Rena Gregory

"An enchanting place, home of the warriors," promises the pop music blaring from a giant screen as excited visitors board buggies fit for a theme park.

Welcome to the Shaolin Temple in central China, known as the birthplace of Zen Buddhism and world-famous for its kungfu. Instead of inspiring awe and mysticism as it had once done for centuries, the present venue is managed more along the lines of a Hollywood theme park.

It prompted one European visitor to comment, "The first time I came here, I thought the taxi driver had made a mistake. I thought I'd see a monastery deep in the forest, and I was very disappointed."

As a well known sage once said, "monks in temples can no longer save themselves, let alone saving others." Well, the report above confirms this comment.

The Shaolin Temple was established in 495 AD, according to legend, by Boddhidharma. The monastery has been destroyed and rebuilt several times over the centuries. A warlord attacked the temple in 1928, which burned for 45 days, destroying many of the buildings, books and records.

During the days of the Cultural Revolution when religion was banned, many adjacent building, statues and relics were demolished. Since then, the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) has orchestrated schemes to allow certain religious practices to run as a show; and it is also designed to placate a nation which had deep rooted traditions in faith and morality, which was suddenly replaced by an anti-faith, pro-violence, atheist regime.

The temple makes millions every year from entrance fees, online sales of Shaolin items such as nunchakus, spearheads, fans and clothing, and its travelling performing troupes. This temple drew 1.6 million people last year who paid 100 yuan (15 dollars) to pass through its Disneyland-style turnstiles in Henan province, watch a half-hour kungfu show and take photos with performers for another 20 yuan. It is nothing but a huge commercial enterprise, and the Abbott possesses a Mercedes, high quality lap tops, female personal assistants and 'friends'.

The venue's notoriety has been a boon to the neighbouring area, attracting more than 80 mostly private kungfu schools where more than 60,000 people train to be like the monastery's 200 warrior-monks. But why are they training? Certainly not to become virtuous, altruistic people, attempting to raise their morality - instead, training to make money from rituals visitors want to have performed.

A 24-year-old Henan province visitor recently found the temple more rowdy than she would have expected from the epicentre of Zen Buddhism, but the commercial aspect did not dampen her enjoyment. It prompted her to comment, "When tourists come here, there are so many people that don't feel it's that calm, but I like it."
CEO of Shaolin



Screenshots: Shi Yongxin was interviewed by journalists.

The temple's money-making success may be largely attributed to Abbot Shi Yongxin, who took charge in 1999, but temple monks revealed that some money making decisions were made by Shi Yongxin's lover, Liu Dandan, who is 20 years younger then Shi and lived in the Shaolin temple from 2002 to 2004. Shi Yongxin was busy traveling for his business pursuits,and while he was overseas in 2004, Liu fell in love with Shi's nephew, Feng who also lived in the temple. Liu left the temple after this. It was Liu Dandan who initiated selling one incense stick for 3888 yuan.

Shi Yongxin is repeatedly criticized for his perceived pursuit of money, his cunning character and his sinister past in getting him to the position of Abbot. This prompted a computer hacker to replace the Shaolin website's front page with a mock letter of remorse in Shi's name. The post accused him of commercializing the 1,500-year-old temple.

Shi retorted: "I'm not a businessman. I don't hold shares." He sat for an interview wearing a yellow robe in one of the temple's halls. He defended Shaolin's commercial ventures, which he refused to describe as businesses, but rather as ways "of raising the temple's profile."

"Believers have demands, and we must satisfy and serve them to the best of our ability -- it's a service that provides faith products."


Screenshot: Why is it always female journalists interviewing Shi?--- the comment at bottom of photo
Bikini contest

Parts of a reality TV contest show scenes were shot here in 2006, to find a new kungfu star, with a bikini fashion show! Gene Ching, the US-based publisher of Kung Fu Tai Chi - a periodical devoted to Chinese martial arts - and a former student at Shaolin, defended Shi, saying the Abbot was moving with the times.

Can you imagine St. Peter's Basilica in Rome holding a bikini contest? According to Ching, things were even more bizarre at one time at this once sacred temple - the grounds of Shaolin were full of tourist "atttractions," such as a terracotta Buddha with a house of horrors inside, a roller skating rink, video game arcades and karaoke bars, adding "it was more like a surreal circus carnival."
I think this author is missing the point of my 'surreal circus carnival' comment. That was prior to the Abbot. He cleaned that up, which is a point to his favor given the stance of this reporter. Personally, I miss that ol' Shaolin village, but it was quite an eyesore and had to go.