A critical examination of how political and legal systems appropriate religious symbols, and how conscience offers a path beyond violence and injustice.
by Kenny Jeng*
*A paper presented at the Fourth World Conference for Religious Dialogue and Cooperation, Skopje, North Macedonia, June 24, 2026.
An article already published in Bitter Winter on June 30th, 2026.
Religion is often envisioned as a sanctuary of peace and harmony, yet history shows it can also be used as a tool of conflict. While the core of faith celebrates moral cultivation and benevolence, religious language and symbolism have frequently been appropriated to legitimize aggression, mobilize populations, and elevate religious identity above broader human values. At this Fourth World Conference on Religious Dialogue and Cooperation, we explore whether the weaponization of faith reflects an inherent flaw in religion or a deeper failure of human conscience.
Across centuries, conflicts labeled as “religious wars” have rarely been driven by doctrine alone. More often, political actors have instrumentalized religious identity, or an incomplete understanding of religion, to rationalize violence, territorial expansion, or the consolidation of power. Although all major religions prohibit unjust aggression and prescribe ethical conduct, regimes grounded in extreme nationalism or statism have repeatedly manipulated sacred narratives to justify coercion. Conversely, certain fundamentalist movements have invoked religious rhetoric to legitimize violent resistance against perceived oppression. These dynamics demonstrate that no tradition is entirely immune to misuse. The aim here is not to portray religion as inherently violent, but to examine the conditions under which religious symbols, authority, and language are appropriated by political or economic interests and transformed into instruments of mobilization and conflict.
Historical records also reveal a complementary pattern: rulers have not only waged wars in the name of religion but have also persecuted religious communities out of ignorance, fear, or ideological hostility. Such actions constitute another form of warfare—one directed not outward but against the freedom of belief itself. This paper, therefore, considers how state power can weaponize legal and fiscal systems against religious or spiritual groups, and how such tendencies might be prevented.
Religion becomes a weapon when it provides a moral veneer for actions that conscience would otherwise forbid. By demonizing an opponent, leaders soothe their own guilt and persuade followers that violence is a duty. Yet most conflicts are ultimately fought for power, profit, or territory; religion merely supplies the cultural vocabulary that inflames participation. The process typically unfolds in three stages: the reduction of religious symbols to political markers, the capture of religious authority by secular interests, and the silencing of individual conscience. In the digital age, this process no longer depends solely on clerics or institutions. Influencers, algorithms, and emotionally charged narratives now play a decisive role in shaping perceptions and mobilizing hostility.
Mitigating these dangers requires more than policy reform; it requires the awakening of conscience. Conscience, understood as a post‑secular, trans‑religious, and practice‑based concept, functions as an inner moral compass that transcends institutional boundaries. It serves as a universal guide capable of countering the distortions that arise when religion is manipulated for political ends. Yet conscience is not self‑sustaining. As emphasized in the Era of Conscience movement initiated by Dr. Hong Tao‑Tze, the Zhang‑men‑ren or Shifu (Grand Master) of Tai Ji Men, it must be cultivated through self‑reflection, self‑correction, and moral discipline.
Dr. Hong’s philosophy offers a de‑escalatory model that begins with inner transformation rather than ideological confrontation. He stresses that only by awakening and protecting conscience can societies heal the wounds caused by religious discrimination and ethnic or ideological violence. His vision of a “Culture of Conscience” suggests that the collective moral awakening of individuals can generate a global “butterfly effect,” ensuring that religion is never again misused as a tool of destruction.
The risks of weaponizing state power against religious or spiritual communities are illustrated by the long‑standing dispute involving Tai Ji Men in Taiwan, which started in 1996 and has already been presented in this session. Prosecutor Hou Kuan-jen accused Tai Ji Men of fraud, tax evasion, and even of “raising goblins,” and detained Dr. Hong, his wife, and two disciples for several months (in 2009, they were all compensated for the wrongful imprisonment). Although Taiwan’s Supreme Court ultimately ruled that there was no fraud, no tax evasion, and no violation of tax law, administrative authorities continued to issue tax bills based on the original discredited theory that the “red envelopes” with monetary offerings given by the dizi to their Shifu were tuition fees rather than tax-exempt gifts. While most years were eventually corrected to zero, the 1992 tax bill was left unchanged, leading to the seizure and nationalization of land intended for a self‑cultivation center. This triggered widespread demonstrations and drew international attention.
Human rights organizations have repeatedly raised the case before the United Nations Human Rights Council, identifying it as an example of administrative inertia and the use of taxation as a tool of persecution. Critics have highlighted inconsistencies in the government’s classification of Tai Ji Men, the perverse incentives created by Taiwan’s tax bonus system, and the case’s fall outside the scope of the “Act on Promoting Transitional Justice,” which only covers cases of the period ending in 1992, leaving the community without adequate institutional remedies.
Religion, when severed from conscience, becomes vulnerable to manipulation. When guided by conscience, it becomes a bridge rather than a weapon. As we gather in Skopje, it is essential to recognize that the path to peace does not lie in the triumph of one faith over another, but in the daily discipline of listening to the inner moral voice that political interests so often seek to silence. If religion can be weaponized by neglecting conscience, then peace must begin not with doctrinal agreement but with the daily discipline of listening to that neglected voice.
Scholars are invited to examine the Tai Ji Men case not as a political appeal but as an empirical opportunity to understand how modern states—even democratic ones—may weaponize legal and fiscal systems against minority belief communities. Only by restoring conscience to its rightful place can humanity hope to prevent the misuse of religion and chart a sustainable future grounded in dignity and peace.