Religious Diversity in Taiwan
Plus, book club on Ae-ran Kim's My Brilliant Life
Albert here. In 2014, a Pew Research study on global religious diversity ranked Taiwan as the second most religiously diverse country in the world, just behind Singapore. Taiwan’s religious landscape is unique, blending Buddhism, Daoism, Christianity, indigenous religions, and various popular beliefs. This diversity is notable, but what is perhaps even more striking is the ubiquity of religious and spiritual beliefs across Taiwanese society. In July of this year, Pew released an update to its 2014 study, which found that even among Taiwanese who report no religious affiliation, there is a significantly higher likelihood of holding “spiritual” beliefs compared to the rest of East Asia. For example, 87% of Taiwanese believe in karma—significantly higher than South Korea's 48%. Since karma is rooted in Buddhism, it’s unsurprising that 96% of Taiwanese Buddhists believe in it—but it’s notable that a significant portion of Taiwanese Christians (64%) also believe in karma.
Equally fascinating, 85% of Taiwanese respondents reported belief in “unseen beings.” This belief manifests in various ways; Michelle and I are often struck by how even in the most “academic” of settings, people will casually mention encounters with spirits. Meanwhile, rituals paying respect to spirits, including ghosts, are a common practice.
Many of the “unseen beings” in which people believe connect to specific landscapes. 59% think that natural elements, such as mountains, rivers, or trees, may possess their own spirits. Last year we wrote about our time in Alishan, where we walked among tree spirits. Even those who have spent some time exploring Taiwan—particularly in the south—have likely come across shrines dedicated to tree gods. In other words, Taiwan’s unique environment and landscape have shaped its religious beliefs, and, in turn, Taiwanese religion leaves its mark on the land.
Why is religion so ubiquitous in Taiwan? How do so many different faiths coexist on this island? And from a quotidian standpoint, who are the people who are setting up these altars and temples?
For the past three years, I’ve had the privilege of being part of a research group dedicated to mapping Taiwan’s religious landscape using GIS technology. It’s an ambitious project, originally conceived by Professor Lin Fu-shih, a trailblazing scholar in cultural and religious history whose intellectual curiosity knew no bounds. He authored groundbreaking studies on the history of betel nuts in East Asia and East Asian shamanism, among other topics. Sadly, Professor Lin passed away in 2021, and I never had the chance to meet him. Nevertheless, I’ve always admired his vision and feel lucky that I can continue some of his work.
Lin aimed to capture a comprehensive picture of Taiwan’s religious landscape by having teams walk through every street and alleyway, documenting the religious sites they encountered and entering them into an online database. In collaboration with Fu-Jen Catholic University in 2017, the team launched a pilot project using the district of Xinzhuang as a test case. Official records from the Ministry of the Interior listed 56 registered religious organizations, while the District Office recorded 243. However, when the team conducted their on-the-ground survey, they discovered over 500 religious sites. In other words, relying solely on official statistics would miss much of the diversity and richness of Taiwan’s religious life.
Since 2017, the project has finished mapping 20% of the country; the dream is to one day finish the entire island.
Over the past three years, I’ve joined these ethnographic field trips whenever possible, and they’ve been a profound experience for me. There’s the scholarly side of it, where I’m getting a crash course in digital humanities and Taiwanese religions from my brilliant colleagues. But it’s also made me reflect on gaps from my childhood. Like the rest of the country, my extended family reflects Taiwan's religious diversity: one of my uncles is a Presbyterian pastor, while a cousin is a spirit medium (Tongji 乩童). For various reasons—mainly due to accidents of geography, but from what I’m learning, geography is also destiny—I grew up closer to the Presbyterian/Christian side of my family. Although my parents would take me to the annual tomb-sweeping festivals, where I’d meet extended family rooted in Taiwanese popular religion, my exposure to that side was limited. In a way, this project has also helped me reconnect with a part of my family that I knew existed but didn’t fully understand.
This year, the team chose to investigate Cijin（旗津) island. Cijin (also known as Qihou) is an offshore island located just beside Kaoshsiung, Taiwan’s main port city. Previously the island was connected to Kaohsiung at its southern tip, but a major construction project in 1967 opened an additional entry point to Kaoshiung harbor. Its strategic location not only shields Kaohsiung Harbor from wind, sand, and waves but also serves as a natural haven for ships and naval vessels, making it a crucial barrier for harbor protection.
In recent years, Cijin has gained popularity as a tourist destination, aided by a new ferry connecting Kaohsiung’s bustling Pier 2 Arts Center with the island. This renewed focus on tourism has, in turn, helped revive Cijin’s old market street.
Due to its strategic location, Cijin Island has seen successive waves of migration, and its religious sites reflect this diversity.
Cijin’s Temple to the Empress of Heaven (Mazu)
In 1673, a fisherman named Xu Ahua was caught in a typhoon, and his boat ended up stranded on Cijin Island. Xu fell in love with the land and later returned to Fujian, bringing back his family and inviting six other fishing families to join him. Together, they brought a statue of Mazu and established a shrine on what is now the site of the Cijin’s Tianhou (Empress of Heaven) Temple, originally named “Mazu Temple.” The leaders of these seven families defined the temple boundaries, marking the start of the settlement’s growth. With a history spanning 350 years, Cijin Tianhou Temple is the oldest Mazu temple in Kaohsiung.
The temple houses a stunning “Lord’s boat” (王船) over a hundred years old, recently restored. These boats are linked to Chinese migrant communities in southern China and play a role in festivals meant to drive away diseases and malevolent forces while bringing blessings to local residents. The celebration traditionally concludes with the burning or launching of a model boat, symbolically sending the Lords back to the heavens.
The most dramatic example of this happens at the Donggang Wangye festival in Pingtung county. Every three years, the faithful craft a huge boat that is close to 50 feet long and weighs more than 12 tons. They parade the boat around the harbor to ward off epidemics and evil spirits. Then they burn it.
Ki-Au Presbyterian Church of Taiwan
Dr. James Maxwell, a British Presbyterian missionary, arrived in Cijin on May 28, 1865. He established a church there, and it became the first center for missionary training in southern Taiwan and, more broadly, for the Presbyterian church across the country. Located in the heart of Cijin Old Town, the church towers over the surrounding landscape. In Taiwan, the Presbyterian church has played a historic role in sheltering dissidents and fighting authoritarian rule.
Dashantou Chaolong Temple
Historical accounts reveal that some faithful brought a statue of the Great Emperor Baosheng from China during the Qianlong era of the Qing Dynasty. At first, the statue was just worshipped in homes, and in 1924, local elders, moved by the deity’s blessings, established a modest grass-roofed temple. By 1927, with the temple deteriorating, devotees organized a rebuilding effort. Located in a small fishing village along the coast, the temple’s worship expanded to include other deities such as Maz, Guanyin, and Xuantian Shangdi. Renamed Chaolong Temple, it became a significant religious hub for the local community. In 1951, the temple underwent renovations, and a statue of Mazu was installed.
The temple sits across from the local elementary school. Its first floor has since been converted to an activity center for the elderly. The second floor is dedicated to worshipping the goddess Mazu, who is flanked by the Buddhist goddess Guanyin. The third floor houses the Jade Emperor Hall and other celestial deities.
Shrine to Lord Jin Xing of the Water Domain
In the 1950s, Cijin fishermen recovered a bone from the ocean. Startled, they tossed it back into the water, but they kept finding it; three times, they retrieved the bone. Finally, they decided to bring it ashore. Through a spirit medium, the spirit of the deceased revealed his name as Jin Xing and expressed a desire to be worshiped by the locals with incense offerings. In response, the community decided to build a temple in his honor.
Later, when the government planned to widen the road, it intended to demolish the small temple of Jin Xing. However, the construction machinery unexpectedly malfunctioned, which the workers interpreted as a sign that Jin Xing did not want his temple destroyed. After negotiations, the locals agreed to relocate the temple to its current site, and eventually, they elevated Jin Xing to the status of an official deity.
Hall of Gratitude to Chiang Kai-shek
After Chiang Kai-shek died in 1975, villagers from Shih-chien New Village established a simple memorial along Cijin’s coast. Shih-chien New Village is populated by migrants from the Dachen Archipelago, a series of islands close to Zhejiang province in China. In 1955, during the First Taiwan Straits Crisis, the People’s Republic of China took the Yijiangshan islands, which were only several kilometers from the Dachen islands. The Nationalist government was then in charge of the Dachen islands, and they believed that the islands would soon fall to the advancing People’s Liberation Army. Relying on the U. S. Seventh Fleet, the Nationalist government evacuated more than 14500 residents—as well as soldiers and military equipment—living on the islands to Taiwan.
Dachen islanders were resettled all throughout Taiwan, and one group ended up in Cijin. Because of their distinct connection to the KMT government, they set up two temples to Chiang Kai-shek, elevating him to a deity. They worship him alongside deities that are also particular to the Dachen peoples, such as Yuan Bi Zhen Jun and the Fisherman God.
This offers just a glimpse of Taiwan's religious diversity. The histories behind these sites could each fill a book, rich with themes and questions to explore: migration, class conflict, connections to the sea, mourning, and dispossession. I hope to dive into some of these topics in more detail in future newsletters.
Book Club: Ae-ran Kim’s My Brilliant Life
We loved talking to you about Andrea Lee’s Red Island House. For November/December, we’re reading Ae-ran Kim’s My Brilliant Life (translated by Chi-Young Kim) and meeting on Friday, December 6th at 7:00 PM EST / Saturday, December 7th at 7:00 AM Taiwan time. Reply here for the zoom link. Thank you!
As an adult, I've always been a bit sad that growing up Christian in Taiwan, I was never exposed to local spiritual practices and festivals even though local temples are ubiquitous. These practices were rejected by my mom as superstitious and un-Christian. I only realized what I had been missing living in Japan after college and being invited by neighborhood associations to participate in the local festivals. Ironically, as a tourist my mom loves Japanese temples, festivals and seasonal events.
I visited Taiwan back in 1988 and was amazed that at every turn I encountered a shrine. They were all over the place and the colors, red and gold. I still remember that and seeing your photos brought back those memories. I didn't know that there were so many gods for the Taiwanese. Thanks for bringing me back. 'Berta