作者：陈婷
编辑：胡丽莉 责任编辑：罗志飞 翻译：程铭
在许多国家，人们谈论宗教自由时，往往默认它意味着一种平等：无论信仰何种宗教、来自什么民族、属于怎样的背景，都有权利公开表达信仰，参与宗教仪式，传承教义，甚至改变自己的信仰立场。宗教自由，正是衡量一个社会是否尊重人类精神世界的重要标志。
然而，在中国，尽管宗教自由被写入宪法，但在现实中却表现出明显的不平等。信仰不仅不是一种平等的权利，反而被分层管理、区别对待，成为一种“政治敏感事项”。
这种不平等首先体现在国家对不同宗教群体的制度安排上。佛教、道教、基督教、伊斯兰教等所谓“五大宗教”表面上享有合法地位，但它们必须依附于官方宗教协会开展活动。未登记的团体，如家庭教会或民间佛教道场，即便没有任何违法行为，也常常被认定为“非法宗教活动”。法律保护的边界，并不是根据信仰是否和平来划定，而是取决于是否“服从管理”。于是，宗教自由沦为一种在政府许可下才能进行的有限活动。
更严重的是，国家在民族与宗教结合处的高度干预。藏传佛教便是最典型的例子。这个原本自成体系、拥有千年历史的宗教传统，在中国不仅被拆解成碎片，还面临语言限制、传播审查、领袖否定等多重管控。活佛转世制度本是藏传佛教的核心传统之一，过去由教派内部依据仪轨识别灵童。但2007年，中国政府出台了《藏传佛教活佛转世管理办法》，要求所有转世必须经过审批。一个活佛是否为真实转世，不再由信众和上师判断，而由国家发文决定。这不是宗教制度的现代化，而是灵魂的行政化控制。
在汉地影响力日益扩大的索达吉堪布法师，也未能幸免。他从不谈论政治，讲法时用语克制，积极配合各方要求，对党政态度始终温和中立。然而在2019年底，他仍被迫宣布解散自己创办的“菩提学会”，并关闭相关网站。尽管声明中称此举是为避免有人冒用学会名义违法敛财，但不少舆论指出，这背后有明显的政治压力。索达吉堪布的讲法影响力广泛，信众遍及全国，尤其吸引了大量知识阶层与青年。正是这种“脱离控制的宗教传播”，让当局感到警惕，即便他从未直接挑战体制。
宗教平等的缺失不仅体现在不同宗教之间的差别，也存在于同一宗教内部的区别对待。汉传佛教与藏传佛教虽然同属“佛教”，但待遇却天差地别。前者往往能在官方主持的寺庙中举行法会，甚至获得文化遗产保护资金；而后者则频频遭遇审查、限制乃至打压。一个民族的宗教活动之所以被贴上“敏感”的标签，根本原因并非信仰内容本身，而是当局对所谓“社会稳定”的过度焦虑。
在中国的宗教治理逻辑中，宗教并非被视为信徒的灵魂需求，而是必须“服务于国家”的意识形态工具。宗教要“爱国”，要“服从党的领导”，要“抵御外来渗透”。凡是超越这些框架的信仰实践，无论是否和平，都会被视为“隐患”，甚至被定义为“敌对势力”。这实际上构建出一种“信仰等级制度”：注册团体优于未注册，官方认定高于传统认定，顺从的信徒优于活跃的信徒，大宗教优于小宗教，汉族信仰优于少数民族信仰。
这种制度性的歧视不仅压缩了宗教自由的空间，也制造了信众之间的隔阂与误解。许多年轻人害怕公开信仰，担心影响学业、就业和社交；一些宗教活动被迫转入地下；信徒们习惯性地自我审查，哪怕在宗教聚会中也不敢讨论涉及政策的话题。这种“看不见的恐惧”，才是自由最深层的崩塌。
真正的宗教平等，并不是表面上“五大宗教并存”，而是让每一个人都能不分族群、身份、宗派，自由地选择、传承和表达信仰。政府的职责，不是去批准谁可以信仰，而是保障所有人的信仰权利不受侵犯。只有当藏人可以公开敬仰达赖喇嘛、汉人可以自由皈依藏传佛教、穆斯林可以自主管理清真寺、家庭教会能够合法讲道时，宗教自由才不再是空洞的口号。
一个社会的自由与文明程度，不在于它拥有多少寺庙与牌匾，而在于它是否敢于放手那些不被驯服的灵魂。
Hierarchy of Belief: Implicit Discrimination in Religious Freedom in China
Abstract: In many countries, when people talk about religious freedom, they often acquiesce that it means an equality: no matter what religion they believe in, what nationality they come from, and what background they belong to, they have the right to openly express their beliefs, participate in religious rituals, inherit doctrines, and even change their beliefs.
Author: Chen Ting
Editor: Hu Lili Responsible Editor: Luo Zhifei Translator: Ming Cheng
In many countries, when people talk about religious freedom, they often acquiesce that it means an equality: no matter what religion they believe in, what nationality they belong to, what background they belong to, they have the right to openly express their beliefs, participate in religious ceremonies, pass on doctrines, and even change their beliefs. Religious freedom is an important sign of whether a society respects the spiritual world of human beings.
However, in China, although religious freedom is written into the constitution, there is obvious inequality in reality. Faith is not only not an equal right, but also is managed in layers and treated differently, which has become a “politically sensitive matter”.
This inequality is first of all reflected in the state’s institutional arrangements for different religious groups. Buddhism, Taoism, Christianity, Islam and other so-called “five major religions” enjoy legal status on the surface, but they must be affiliated with official religious associations to carry out their activities. Unregistered groups, such as family churches or folk Buddhist dojos, are often identified as “illegal religious activities” even if there is no illegal act. The boundaries of legal protection are not delimited according to whether the faith is peaceful, but on whether they “obey management”. Therefore, religious freedom has become a limited activity that can only be carried out with the permission of the government.
What’s more serious is the state’s high level of interference in the combination of ethnicity and religion. Tibetan Buddhism is the most typical example. This self-systemed religious tradition with a history of thousands of years has not only been dismantled into pieces in China, but also faces multiple controls such as language restrictions, dissemination censorship, and leadership denial. The living Buddha reincation system was originally one of the core traditions of Tibetan Buddhism. In the past, spiritual children were identified by the sect according to the ritual. However, in 2007, the Chinese government issued the Measures for the Administration of the Reincarnation of Living Buddhas in Tibetan Buddhism, which required that all reincarnations must be approved. Whether a living Buddha is a real reincarnation is no longer judged by the believers and the master, but by the state. This is not the modernization of the religious system, but the administrative control of the soul.
Master Sodaji Kambu, who had an increasing influence in Chinese mainland, was not spared. He never talks about politics, restrains his language when speaking, actively cooperates with the requirements of all parties, and always has a gentle and neutral attitude towards the party and government. However, at the end of 2019, he was still forced to announce the dissolution of the Bodhi Society he founded and close the relevant websites. Although the statement said that the move was to prevent people from making money in the name of the society, many public opinions pointed out that there was obvious political pressure behind it. Sodajikambu’s preaching has a wide influence, and his believers are all over the country, especially attracting a large number of intellectuals and young people. It is this “uncontrolled religious spread” that makes the authorities wary, even though he has never directly challenged the system.
The lack of religious equality is not only reflected in the differences between different religions, but also in the differential treatment within the same religion. Although Chinese Buddhism and Tibetan Buddhism belong to the same “Buddhism”, the treatment is very different. The former can often hold Buddhist meetings in officially hosted temples and even obtain funds for cultural heritage protection; while the latter is frequently subject to censorship, restrictions and even suppression. The fundamental reason why a nation’s religious activities are labeled as “sensitive” is not the content of the belief itself, but the excessive anxiety of the authorities about the so-called “social stability”.
In the logic of religious governance in China, religion is not regarded as the spiritual needs of believers, but an ideological tool that must “serve the country”. Religion should be “patriotic”, “obey the leadership of the Party”, and “resist foreign infiltration”. Any belief practice that transcends these frameworks, whether peaceful or not, will be regarded as a “hidden danger” or even defined as a “hostile force”. This actually builds a “hierarchy of faith”: registered groups are superior to unregistered, official recognition is higher than traditional recognition, obedient believers are superior to active believers, big religions are superior to small religions, and Han beliefs are superior to minority beliefs.
This institutional discrimination not only compresses the space for religious freedom but also creates distance and misunderstanding between believers. Many young people are afraid of open faith, worried about affecting their studies, employment and socializing; some religious activities are forced to go underground; believers habitually self-censorship and dare not discuss policy-related topics even at religious gatherings. This “invisible fear” is the deepest collapse of freedom.
True religious equality is not the “coexistence of the five major religions” on the surface, but allows everyone to freely choose, inherit and express their beliefs, without any ethnic group, identity or sect. The government’s duty is not to approve who can believe, but to ensure that everyone’s right to belief is not violated. Only when Tibetans can openly worship the Dalai Lama, Chinese can freely convert to Tibetan Buddhism, Muslims can independently manage mosques, and family churches can legally preach, religious freedom will no longer be an empty slogan.
The degree of freedom and civilization of a society does not depend on how many temples and plaques it has, but on whether it dares to let go of those untamed souls.
