At the impressive Longquan Temple in Beijing, visitors may get to meet Xian’er — a robot who has emerged as the mascot for drawing China’s new cyber-savvy generation closer to Buddhism. The two-foot tall robot monk has been designed to draw crowds. With his yellow robes, shaven head and inquisitive, yet comical expressions, he exerts a transparent magnetic pull. Xian’er, who has been programmed to answer 20 simple questions, can chant Buddhist mantras, obey voice commands and hold a simple conversation. Xian’er has evolved from a 2013 comic series by the same name, conceived by Master Xianfan of the temple. Keen to connect with the generation-next, the temple took the lead in producing cartoon animations and publishing anthologies in the comic-book format.
Xian’er finally emerged from a collaborative enterprise involving a technology company and artificial intelligence specialists, drawn from some of China’s finest universities. The robot monk of Longquan has been playing its part in bridging the digital divide between the pre-Internet preachers of Buddhism and a sharp new generation, widely networked by smartphones, but overwhelmed by an information overload, arguably distracted.
Xian’er is an emblem of a cultural renaissance taking place on President Xi Jinping’s watch. This revival combines Buddhism, Confucian thought and Maoism in a distilled form. Mr. Xi’s soft-power project to blend China’s “civilisational” tradition with elements of Maoism is designed to provide a counter-narrative to the seemingly seductive charms of democracy, human rights, and colour revolutions. The focus on Confucianism is, therefore, equally impressive. The Confucian Academy, a vast centre for Confucian learning, has emerged in southwest China’s Guizhou province. Now managed by the local government, it provides free lectures on Confucian philosophy, and has the infrastructure for scholars to live and work. Provincial officials attend regular courses at the school.
Drawing inspiration
“To solve China’s problems, we can only search in the land of China for the ways and means that suit it,” Mr. Xi told the 25-member Politburo in October 2015. He added: “We need to fully make use of the great wisdom accumulated by the Chinese nation over the last 5,000 years,” signalling his inclination to draw inspiration from classical China in order to realise what he calls the “Chinese Dream”.
In the midst of this ‘back-to-the-roots’ enterprise, Maoism has also found a place, especially in the tradition of the famous Long March — the epic trek of 12,000 km in the line of fire, during the civil war, which led to the emergence of the People’s Republic of China.
A recently built museum in the city of Zunyi, in the north of the Confucian Academy and dedicated to Mao, is also drawing huge crowds. Zunyi became famous in January 1935 when it hosted a conference of top 18 Communist Party functionaries and representatives from the Moscow-based Communist International. During the meeting, held in a merchant’s house, Mao’s line to advance the Long March prevailed, overriding the strategic orientation of Otto Braun, the German deputed by the Comintern, and the Bolshevik-trained Wang Ming, his close ally.
The sprawling new museum, a stone’s throw from the conference site, narrates the story of the Zunyi conclave, the defining battles of the Long March, and rich biographical details of its leaders. But China’s eclectic “cultural renaissance” is still a work in progress as the country undergoes yet another transition, where its new mantra of innovation-based growth is yet to face its final test.
