My introduction to the Falun Gong, also known as Falun Dafa cult, was unexpectedly through their Shen Yun traditional Chinese dance performance. Stepping into the theater, I was unprepared for the echoes of my own past, growing up within a cult.
My mom and me outside the Shen Yun performance hall
It was supposed to be a pleasant evening out with my mom and her partner, Mike, during my visit. Shen Yun, a grand spectacle of traditional Chinese dance, was in town for a limited two-day run at the Fuchu Forest Art Theater. Mike, having booked the tickets prior to my arrival in Japan, had sparked my curiosity. I’d been exposed to their extensive advertising for years in California and Washington DC, both in public spaces and on social media.
Arriving with ample time before the show, we decided to grab dinner at MOS Burger, a Japanese fast-food chain I was eager to revisit. Our walk to the restaurant offered glimpses of typical Tokyo street scenes, including a peculiar statue resembling a winged anus and a karaoke bar humorously named “Girls Snack You.” But food was the immediate priority.
Let me tell you, the burgers, hot dogs, and milkshakes at MOS Burger possess a distinct flavor profile, unlike anything you’d find at American chains. Different, and undeniably delicious.
The MOS Burger website elucidates their name:
MOS stands for Mountain, Ocean, Sun. It embodies the spirit of standing tall and firm like a Mountain, possessing a heart as broad and deep as the Ocean, and radiating passion like the ever-burning Sun. This represents our founder’s boundless love for humanity and nature.
Intriguing, Japan.
Now, let’s return to Shen Yun.
What caught us completely off guard, and was conspicuously absent from their promotional material, was the overt and relentless propaganda for the Falun Gong cult interwoven throughout the ostensibly enchanting Chinese dance, theater, music, and costume displays. Excuse me, what was that?
One moment, I was captivated by the grace of a classical Chinese sleeve dance, and the next, I was plunged into a bizarre narrative of communist villains and corrupted, implicitly gay, youth persecuting innocent and virtuous Falun Gong practitioners. In one particularly jarring scene, a man’s eyes were graphically harvested in a Chinese prison, set against a backdrop of dramatic dance acrobatics. It’s remarkable that Shen Yun, arguably the most internationally recognized Chinese performing arts group—with seven troupes currently touring globally—is so vehemently critical of the Chinese government.
Scene from Shen Yun performance depicting persecution
I’m not inherently opposed to performances with political or religious viewpoints. While unexpected, it certainly made the evening more memorable. However, I remained unconvinced by the cult’s message, delivered through song, asserting that atheism, evolutionary theory, and “modern values” pose grave threats to society. They preached that life’s purpose is to ascend to heaven—echoing unsettling themes reminiscent of certain Islamic death cults. One segment even culminated with a religious master and disciple seemingly leaping to their deaths together in apparent bliss. To borrow the iconic phrase from Eric Cartman: Seriously, you guys?
Eric Cartman "Seriously, you guys?"
In fact, the show had the opposite of its intended effect on me. While I acknowledge Falun Gong’s history of persecution in China, I now lean towards viewing them as a potentially dangerous cult, rather than the benign meditation movement I had previously understood them to be. I observed striking parallels between the stage narrative and the cult I was raised in. Themes of faith healing, religious persecution portrayed as solely a consequence of their pure love, scenes of distributing the leader’s writings in public spaces (a significant part of my childhood), an apocalypse from which the leader miraculously saves believers, and fantasies of violent police officers undergoing dramatic conversions—it was all eerily familiar. Even their method of disseminating their message through music and dance was a central tactic in my own cult upbringing.
Further online research after the performance revealed that Shen Yun‘s founder and artistic director (identified only as “D.F.” in the program guide) is none other than Li Hongzhi, the leader of Falun Gong. We essentially paid to attend a cult recruitment event.
But enough seriousness. The show did have its lighter moments. Did I mention the Gangnam Style-esque horsey dance moves?
Highly recommended. ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️
Edit (Nov 2021): Refer to the comments section below for deeper insights into some of Falun Gong’s core beliefs.
For more on my personal experiences with cults, explore Karen Zerby Leak: Unmasking a Cult Leader Who’d Remained Faceless for Nearly 30 Years.
