When established religions turn to state power: Korea's dangerous precedent

Thomas Ward

On Jan. 13, President Lee Jae Myung met with major leaders of Korea's largest faiths. The representatives of those faiths described two religious movements — the Unification Church and Shincheonji Church of Jesus — along with unmentioned others, as “heretical.” According to The Korea Times, they reassured the president that “the public would support disbanding religious groups that harm the people and the country, and called for their assets to be used to compensate their victims.”

But consider the irony: Religious leaders meeting with a head of state to discuss suppressing religious competitors, without the targeted faiths being invited to the table. An astute politician, Lee would not have convened this group of distinguished leaders if there was any concern that they might oppose him. This meeting bears the unmistakable odor of collusion — religious establishments enlisting state power to eliminate competition. History teaches us where this leads, and it is never toward greater freedom.

Throughout history, the distinction between “religion” and “cult” has been primarily about power, not theology or practice. Christianity was denounced for undermining Roman society. Protestant reformers were branded heretics by Catholic authorities. The Latter-day Saints faced violent persecution in 19th-century America. Korean Catholics suffered brutal persecution in the 18th and 19th centuries, justified by claims that Catholicism threatened the existing Confucian social order.

Now Korean Catholicism, alongside other established faiths, turns this same weapon against newer religious movements. The rationale remains identical: These groups threaten social stability. It seems that the playbook does not change — new actors assume the mantle of authority.

Before established religious institutions claim the moral authority to determine which faiths are legitimate, they should examine their own histories. The Catholic Church that now participates in labeling others as dangerous cults has its own record: the Inquisition's torture and execution of "heretics," centuries of forced conversions, the systematic cover-up of clerical sexual abuse that continues to this day. Protestant churches participated in witch hunts, supported slavery and blessed colonial conquest. Islamic institutions have justified violent jihad. Buddhists in Myanmar have incited ethnic cleansing.

Every major religion has shameful chapters. Every faith has been accused, often accurately, of manipulation, financial exploitation, breaking up families and using psychological pressure. The question is not whether religious movements can cause harm — clearly they can. The question is whether any religious institution, given this universal record, should have the power to collaborate with government to suppress its competitors.

In 1982, Griffin Books published Canadian journalist Andre McNicoll's "Catholic Cults." McNicoll's provocative argument was that the Catholic Church, observing the success of so-called cults, had developed initiatives of its own that were cultlike in nature. McNicoll paid special attention to Opus Dei, a religious order founded in 1928 that gained prominence through its vocal opposition to communism. But McNicoll didn't stop there; he also identified Worldwide Marriage Encounter, founded in 1952, and other Catholic movements as employing cultlike methods. According to McNicoll, this new targeted proselytism had the support of Pope John Paul II himself.

McNicoll's work demonstrates a crucial point: "cultlike" accusations can be leveled at virtually any religious movement, including established churches. The label becomes meaningless as an objective category — it's simply a weapon wielded by those with more power against those with less of it.

Korea's major religions, including Catholicism, face declining membership, driven by the country's spiraling population decline and diminishing religious interest among younger generations. In this context, the timing of this meeting becomes suspect. When established churches lose members to new movements, is it appropriate to turn to state power rather than to seek spiritual renewal?

One might argue that dissolving certain new religious movements would "thin the herd" and allow declining churches to reclaim adherents. But when this door opens, where does it stop? Will we see religious cannibalism, with each established faith eventually turned against the others? Such a trajectory would destroy the very pluralism that replaced Korea's Confucian social order and created space for religious tolerance and dialogue.

Catholics face death threats and severe persecution in Iran, Afghanistan, Nicaragua and elsewhere for crossing clearly delineated lines of acceptable religious activity. By endorsing the suppression of religious movements by the Korean government, are Catholic leaders opening the door for the same investigations, asset seizures and closures of Catholic schools and churches in other parts of the world?

What is good for the goose is good for the gander. If Korea's established religions can use state power to eliminate movements they deem to be threatening, then religious authorities in other countries can point to this precedent. Catholic minorities in Muslim-majority nations, Protestant minorities in Catholic-majority nations, Buddhist minorities in Hindu-majority nations — all become vulnerable to the same logic.

Dr. Massimo Introvigne, founder and director of the Center for Studies on New Religions (CESNUR), originally became involved in defending religious freedom because he recognized that purely psychological assessments of new religious movements open the door to assessing all religions by the same criteria. Once we accept that the state can evaluate the psychological legitimacy of religious belief and practice, no faith is safe.

One can only hope that the Vatican will carefully review the Korean Catholic Church's decision to participate in this meeting. Hopefully, the other religious leaders in that meeting with President Lee will also find their actions reviewed by their highest authorities — and evaluated for implications far beyond Korea.

We live in the 21st century. No secular leader should collaborate with establishment religious institutions — a modern Sanhedrin — to eliminate minority religions. To do so is to eliminate religious freedom and freedom of thought, which are arguably the most fundamental freedoms of all.

The test of commitment to religious freedom is not whether you defend popular, established faiths. It is whether you defend the right of unpopular, marginalized religious minorities to exist — even when you find their beliefs wrong, their practices distasteful or their success threatening. On Jan. 13, Korea's religious establishment failed that test.

Thomas J. Ward is professor of peace and development at HJ International Graduate School for Peace and Development in New York City. A Fulbright alum, Dr. Ward’s articles have been published by Cambridge University Press, East Asia Quarterly, E-International Relations, the Journal of CESNUR, Bitter Winter and other publications. The views expressed in this article are his own.