Buddhism in Taiwan: Enlightenment through Death Metal
Godless, satanic, blasphemous: Death metal is considered the most pagan music of all. The Buddhist band "Dharma" proves the opposite. During a visit to Taiwan, a nun who is involved explains how the noise of death is compatible with her values. In the conflict with China, music becomes a secret weapon.
Six robed figures follow the orange-clad nun onto the stage, their eyes fixed on the floor. A gently vibrating singing bowl accompanies her steps. Incense sticks spread the scent of sandalwood. Then the procession suddenly stops. A gong sounds - and all hell breaks loose. Guitar riffs rip through the solemn silence. From the booming bass emerge chants that western listeners most likely associate with Gregorian chants. It is a mantra written in the ancient Indian language Sanskrit - "Aryavalokiteshvara Bodhisattva Vikurvana Dharani" - which is supposed to bestow the grace of Buddha's light on the person who sings it.
The Taiwanese band “Dharma“ underpins traditional sutras, i.e. teachings like this, with Death Metal, perhaps the most violent form of Rock music, where violence and death are usually the themes. In the background of the stage, now bathed in red light, a Buddhist wheel of life rotates, which is reflected in a fascinating way in the mosh pit and draws more and more spectators into a maelstrom of bodies. One of them was hoisted up during the very first song. He floats upright in the lotus position above the chaos on the hands of the crowd.
This type of meditative crowd surfing has become a tradition at Dharma performances. Nor are fists raised in the air in a devil's salute, as is usual at metal concerts. The fans fold their hands in the Anjali Mudra, a gesture of respect and humility that is mainly known in this country from yoga classes. But the neck-breaking spectacle has little to do with quiet mindfulness and gong bath relaxation.
The six band members present themselves on stage with martial face paint. They are supposed to represent the "Dharmapalas", "angry protective deities" who protect the Buddhist student - here represented by the ordained nun Miao Ben - from straying from the path. A well-known topos in many Buddhist schools in Asia. "We don't do Buddhist theater," emphasizes Jack Tung, the drummer and founder of "Dharma", a long-haired giant who smiles enlightenedly when he speaks.
Everyone in the band is a practicing Buddhist. Before every concert, they meditate together and donate part of their fee to charity. "There are many ways to find peace," says Tung, who, in addition to his band, also runs a concert venue in Taiwan's capital Taipei. 52-year-old Miao Ben, who belongs to the Buddhist "Fo Guang Shan Order" founded in Taiwan in 1967, agrees: "Extreme noise is just the flip side of silence."
Around 20 percent of Taiwan's 23.5 million inhabitants are Buddhists, the island's most important popular religion alongside Daoism. "There are more temples in Taiwan than 7-Eleven supermarkets," says Tung, laughing. The two largest communities, "Fo Guang Shan" (Buddha's Mountain of Light) and "Tzu Chi" (Compassionate Help), place value on humanism and charity. The orders were also inspired by Christianity, whose missionaries built schools and hospitals here more than 100 years ago.
Young people in particular find Buddhist community activities, from clothing collections to singing circles, to be outdated - especially since they are often firmly in the hands of pensioners. "It's no different with religious traditions in other countries," Tung sums up. He therefore wants his bands' shows to be seen as living Buddhism. "Many young people today are glued to their smartphones and don't know who they are. Buddhism can give them direction."
Purify the spirit
The idea of combining extreme heavy metal with Buddhist themes, came to him 20 years ago. The monotonously recited, hypnotic sutras that he knew from the temple perfectly complemented the down-tuned guitar riffs of his favorite bands like "Morbid Angel" in his head. But Tung was afraid that his idea would be rejected by metal fans. And even more so, that the Buddhist dignitaries of Taiwan might consider his Buddhist update of the inherently blasphemous death metal music to be sacrilege.
In 2019, he therefore made a pilgrimage from temple to temple to play the first demo recordings of "Dharma" to the masters, monks and nuns. "Even though they were over 80 and had never heard heavy metal before, the reaction was consistently positive," recalls Tung. Miao Ben, the nun who now recites mantras with Dharma, was also enthusiastic. "At first I was shocked by this extreme music. But I also thought that it was a brand new way of conveying Buddhism to younger people. I wanted to join in immediately."
Among the metal heads who were open enough to go through with the project with Tung was Joe Henley, the only non-Taiwanese in the band. The Canadian came to Taipei in 2005 to work as a journalist and translator. The small but sophisticated metal scene quickly captivated him. He was soon playing in several bands and helping to organize Taiwan tours for American genre greats such as "Cannibal Corpse". With "Dharma", however, a completely new chapter began for him. In order to be able to intone the sutras correctly, he spent four months in 2019 studying with a Buddhist master in a temple in Taipei's Wanhua district. "It was an interesting experience," he recalls. "The class consisted only of me, a Canadian in his thirties with tattoos up to his neck, and a bunch of Taiwanese retirees who took the course in their free time."
To really understand what he was singing, Henley dug deeper into the teachings of Mahāyāna Buddhism, which is widespread in Southeast Asia. "One day the master spoke about how our thoughts are like mice. He said: 'When you meditate, don't try to catch the mouse, just be aware of its presence.' That stuck with me." At the end of the course, the metalhead, who grew up in a Christian household, not only converted to Buddhism, he also stopped drinking. "Since then, the Buddha's teachings have been an integral part of my life outside of the band."
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Henley compares "Dharma" to the Polish band "Batushka," which draws inspiration from the mystical side of the Orthodox Church and writes its songs in Old Slavonic. "Fortunately, metal is a genre that is constantly evolving," he says. "I'll still listen to my favorite bands from the 90s when I'm in a nursing home. But you can't sing about Satan and violence forever."
In fact, more and more metal bands around the world are making spiritual traditions and mythologies the content of their music: In India, Vedic metal bands like "Purvaja" celebrate the goddess Kali, who in Hinduism embodies death, destruction but also renewal. In Mexico, the band "Cemican" conjures up pre-Hispanic Aztec priests with flute sounds and feather headdresses. And in 2022, the indigenous musician "Sgah'gahsowáh" caused a stir on the Bandcamp platform when he paired black metal with Native American legends with his solo project "Blackbraid".
“Dharma” is by no means the only metal band in the world that draws inspiration from Buddhism. But where groups like “Gautam” from Uttar Pradesh or “Kanprai” from Thailand sing about the Buddhist underworld “Naraka” or renounce the world like misanthropic hermits, “Dharma” has the potential to become mainstream. This has to do with the special role of Buddhism in Taiwan. It not only satisfies spiritual and social needs, it also fulfils geopolitical functions. Due to pressure from the People's Republic of China, most countries in the global community do not recognise Taiwan as a sovereign state. The country therefore has to maintain diplomatic contacts in other ways. And this is where Buddhism steps into the breach.
“Tzu Chi” and “Fo Guang Shan” are now global organizations worth billions and have temples, academies, publishing houses and charities on all five continents. Taiwanese Buddhists are also extremely active in international disaster relief. And this is even the case in Mainland China, which is otherwise extremely suspicious of civilly organised religious communities, such as the Falun Gong movement, which has been banned and rigorously persecuted in China since 1999.
The American sociologist of religion Richard Madsen speaks in this context of the principle of "moral representation": Diplomatically isolated and geopolitically largely powerless, Taiwan can project a positive, committed image of itself to the world through organizations such as "Tzu Chi" or "Fo Guang Shan". A Buddhist metal band also indirectly fits well into this concept. The fact that a nun does not hesitate for long to become part of an extreme metal band is probably only possible in Taiwan.
Freddy Lim, another heavy metal ambassador from the democratically governed island, also knows that people notice those who cross borders. His band "Chtonic", which incorporates elements from Enka hits and Chinese opera, writes songs about heroes of Taiwanese history or the indigenous minority's struggle for freedom. As a politician, Lim was a key force in the New Power Party, which was inspired by the sunflower protests and openly challenges Beijing by promoting Taiwan's independence. In 2016, he entered parliament as a member of parliament and, initially with long hair, quickly became the figurehead of Taiwan's cosmopolitanism. As if by the way, he continued to tour with "Chtonic" and played three times in Wacken, the largest and most important metal festival near Hamburg. In the port city of Kaohsiung, Lim has launched his own music festival called Megaport, which was able to take place in front of 95,000 people in 2021 thanks to Taiwan's well-managed Corona policy.
This year, Lim also invited the Buddhist band "Dharma" to the Megaport, where they played in front of thousands of spectators. "I fell in love with their music straight away," says the recently independent parliamentarian, who announced his retirement from day-to-day politics this year for family reasons. "I think that the idea of combining Buddhism with metal not only makes sense, but that Dharma also does it excellently." He is not sure whether this will make more people interested in Buddhism: "But I believe that listening carefully to their music can calm the mind and even purify it."