The Dual Facets of Religion–State Relations in a Wartime Context: A Case Study of Jinan’s Jingju Temple During the Sino-Japanese War

Abstract

Focusing on Jingju Temple (淨居寺) in Jinan, Shandong Province, from 1920 to 1948, this paper examines the complex interactions among Chinese Buddhism, Japanese Buddhism, and governmental authorities. As one of the key religious sites in Jinan during the Republican era, Jingju Temple traces its origins back to the Song dynasty. Although it was repeatedly destroyed and rebuilt, the temple was restored in the 1920s by Pan Shoulian 潘守廉 (1845–1939) of Jining, becoming a “public monastery” (shifangcongli 十方叢林). Beginning in the 1930s, the Japanese government and its puppet regimes integrated Japanese rituals into Chinese Buddhism and established the Buddhist Tongyuan Association (Fojiao tongyuanhui 佛教同願會). By examining inscriptions, gazetteers, newspapers, and other historical records—focusing on negotiations between Jingju Temple, the association, and the Japanese Buddhist community—this study sheds light on the distinctive and multifaceted religious–political dynamics that arose as the temple was situated amid conflicting forces: the Japanese government, the puppet regimes, and the Republic of China. These findings provide a new perspective for understanding Buddhist interactions across East Asia and open avenues for further inquiry into this complex historical period.

1. Introduction

This paper takes Jinan’s Jingju Temple (Jinan jingjusi 濟南淨居寺) as a case study and, by reviewing the temple’s various activities in the 1930s and 1940s, explores the complex relationship between Japanese and Chinese Buddhism during this period. Drawing on a range of both intra-religious and extra-religious historical sources from multiple perspectives, this study attempts to illustrate a potential model of a non-binary relationship between religion and state, highlighting its complexities. Historically, Buddhism has served as an important medium of exchange between China and Japan. After being introduced to China from India during the Han dynasty, it reached Japan via the Korean peninsula in the 13th year of Emperor Kinmei’s 欽明天皇 reign (552 CE) (Michihata 1992, p. 21). From that point onward, the Buddhist communities of China and Japan maintained frequent contact. In the early 20th century, renowned Chinese monks such as Taixu 太虛 (1890–1947) and Daxing 大醒 (1888–1952) traveled to Japan for visits, while many prominent figures in the Japanese Buddhist world also made trips to China (Liu 2003). However, starting in 1920, with Japan’s increasing military activities in China and the subsequent outbreak of the Sino-Japanese War, relations between Chinese and Japanese Buddhists began to shift. Although exchanges still occurred, their nature and objectives had undergone substantial changes. In a more extreme instance, under the direction of the Kōa-in (East Asia Development Board 興亞院)1, Japan established the “Buddhist Tongyuan Association” (Fojiao tongyuanhui佛教同願會). Although it appeared to promote Buddhist exchange between China and Japan, a closer look at its charter reveals its compulsory and goal-driven nature (Tongyuan yuekan 1942, pp. 18–19). Meanwhile, many Japanese Buddhist sects established branch temples in China and engaged in various forms of interaction with local Chinese monasteries2. It is crucial to understand that Japan’s administration of the territories it invaded was not uniform, but rather exercised through a series of collaborationist regimes established in stages. Following the outbreak of full-scale war in 1937, the Japanese orchestrated the creation of the Provisional Government of the Republic of China (Zhonghua Minguo Linshi Zhengfu 中華民國臨時政府) in Beiping (Beijing) to govern North China, and the Reformed Government of the Republic of China (Zhonghua Minguo Weixin Zhengfu 中華民國維新政府) in Nanjing for Central China. It was only in March 1940 that these earlier entities were formally consolidated under the newly established Wang Jingwei regime (Wang Jingwei Zhengfu 汪精衛政府) in Nanjing (Brook 2005, p. 155). Therefore, before 1940, Japanese religious activities in North China were conducted under the jurisdiction of the Provisional Government and even after the establishment of the Wang Jingwei regime, which nominally unified occupied China, real power and a high degree of operational freedom remained firmly in Japanese hands, allowing their various civilian and religious organizations to operate with considerable autonomy (Barrett 2001, p. 9). Within this context, the relationship between religion and politics in Sino-Japanese interactions did not conform to the typical dynamic of an official government and a local religious institution. Instead, it was a relationship defined by an external occupying power and Buddhist communities in occupied regions.

From this vantage point, the religious and political relations between Japan and China during that period—especially in North China—appear extraordinarily complex and distinctive. One might even suggest that any discussion of the religious–political dynamic in a specific region at that time should consider multiple actors simultaneously. Politically, there were pro-Japanese regimes and Japanese authorities; religiously, there were local Buddhist communities and Japanese Buddhist institutions. Thus, examining the religious–political relationship of this era can illuminate a model of multifaceted power struggles. Nonetheless, due to one-sided perspectives and insufficient use of historical materials, previous scholarly works on this topic often adopted either a Chinese or a Japanese viewpoint, rather than offering a holistic, multi-perspective analysis of the conflicts facing local Buddhist institutions and the real conditions of modern Sino-Japanese Buddhist interactions. As a result, the complex and dynamic nature of these relations is commonly simplified as a one-way exertion of Japanese control over China. At the same time, on the Chinese side, critical discussions often lose their agency and subjectivity due to limited frames of reference. For example, He Jinsong 何勁松 primarily views the relationship between Japanese Buddhism and the Sino-Japanese War is viewed primarily through the lens of Jōdo Shinshū (淨土真宗), portrayed as cooperating with the Japanese military in propaganda and espionage (He 2002). Yet such an account lacks a thorough explanation or evaluation of Japanese Buddhism’s actual roles and objectives in these activities. Likewise, studies on wartime Sino-Japanese Buddhism often focus on the historical trajectories of Jōdo Shinshū proselytizing efforts in China since the late Qing dynasty, or systematically examine the wartime responsibilities of Japanese Buddhist missionary organizations—including Jōdo Shinshū. Research on Jōdo Shinshū itself is typically situated within broader explorations of Japanese Buddhist history, Shinshū thought, or the evolution of its doctrines, thus attracting scholarly attention primarily in these contexts.

In light of the foregoing, this study uses Jingju Temple (淨居寺) in Jinan, Shandong Province, as its local point of reference to explore the political–religious interactions that emerged in this religious setting during the period in question. By highlighting Jingju Temple, this research aims to provide a preliminary analysis of these intricate relationships, laying a foundation for understanding the complex social dynamics of that era and gradually constructing a broader framework and model of the multifaceted relations between religion and politics. During the Republican era, Jingju Temple—known as a “public monastery” (shifangconglin 十方叢林)—benefited from its favorable geographic location and a wide base of believers. It not only attracted numerous eminent monks to give teachings but also was well-known among political figures in both China and Japan. Therefore, this study selects Jingju Temple as a representative case to examine the nuanced interaction between politics and religion in Jinan during this period. The paper begins with a preliminary overview of Jingju Temple’s history and significance. It then turns to the pro-Japanese regime’s religious policies in the region, subdividing Japan’s activities at Jingju Temple into two main dimensions: first, the interaction between the Buddhist Tongyuan Association (Fojiao tongyuanhui 佛教同願會) and Jingju Temple; second, the exchanges between Japanese Buddhist organizations and Jingju Temple. Based on these discussions, the third section presents a systematic analysis of the complex religious–political relationships revealed by these cases. Finally, the paper addresses the remaining gaps and suggests directions for future research and developments.

2. Historical Overview of Jingju Temple

According to the (Chongzhen) Gazetteer of Licheng County (Chongzhen Lichengxianzhi (崇禎) 歷城縣誌):

“Jingju Temple, located outside the east gate, was first established during the Song dynasty, destroyed in the Yuan, and rebuilt in the Ming”.

“淨居寺, 東關外, 肇於宋, 毀於元, 重興於明.”.

(Chongzhen 1640, p. 203).

Indeed, Jingju Temple was originally founded in the Northern Song dynasty. After its initial construction, it underwent repeated cycles of destruction and restoration throughout the Yuan, Ming, and Qing dynasties. From the late Qing period onward, Buddhism in the Jinan area suffered a marked decline due to various factors. Jingju Temple sustained severe damage: “Only three temple halls remained, all teetering on the brink of collapse. Although the monastics wished to repair them, they were powerless to do so” (Dayun 1926, p. 45). It was not until the seventh year of the Republic (1918 CE) that lay practitioner Pan Shoulian 潘守廉, renowned for his dedication to Buddhist practice and philanthropy, stepped forward. Motivated by his resolve to “relieve hardship and poverty, protect the Dharma, and safeguard monastics 就難濟貧，護法安僧之誠,” (Dayun 1926, p. 45) and recognizing the lack of a public monastery in Jinan—then the provincial capital—where eminent monks might disseminate the Buddhist teachings, Pan joined with Venerable Dexin 德馨 (18??–19??) and Abbot Jianhui 建慧 (18??–19??) from Puji’an 普濟庵 in Jining to plan the revival of the temple. At that time, Jingju Temple was nearly deserted, and the existing stewards were unable to maintain it, so they willingly turned over its property to Pan. Subsequently, Pan Shoulian not only drew up the reconstruction plans but also traveled to Beijing to seek donations for the building funds:

“He petitioned the Prime Minister, Jin Yunpeng3, who immediately pledged 2000 yuan. At the time, Pan’s son, Pan Fu4, served as Minister of Finance and donated 5000 yuan. Various benefactors contributed around another 6000 yuan as they saw fit”.

“祈國務總理翼卿靳公, 為之提倡, 靳公即捐二千元. 時潘公令嗣復, 任財政總長, 闔潭公捐五千元. 又隨緣樂助, 約六千元”.

(Dayun 1926, p. 46).

Reconstruction of Jingju Temple commenced in the spring of the ninth year of the Republic (1920) and was completed by autumn of that same year. The newly built complex included three-bay structures housing the main Buddha Hall (Daxiongbaodian 大雄寶殿) and the Hall of the Heavenly Kings (Tianwangdian 天王殿), surrounded by additional facilities such as the Ancestral Hall (Zutang 祖堂), Hall of Sangharama (Qielandian 伽藍殿), Abbot’s Quarters (Fangzhangshi 方丈室), Chanting Hall (Nianfotang 念佛堂), Meditation Hall (Chantang 禪堂), and Dining Hall (Zhaitang 齋堂), for a total of over fifty rooms. The scale was imposing, and the setting particularly solemn. On the nineteenth day of the ninth lunar month that same year, a consecration ceremony for the temple’s Buddhist statues was held, and a dedicated ritual space (daochang 道場) was formally established. After the temple’s completion, Pan Shoulian, ensured that the monastics could devote themselves to cultivation with basic living necessities secured by raising twelve thousand yuan and depositing it with Lufeng 魯丰 Company to cover daily expenses. Reflecting further that “although the temple is established and the monastics are now settled, without a treasury of scriptures, how could they fully grasp the Tathāgata’s teachings—both for self-cultivation and for guiding others? 寺雖成立, 安衆行道, 若無藏經, 則何以備知如來立法之至意, 與自行化他之所宜” (Honghua 1945), he traveled to the capital with the abbot Juexian 覺賢 (18??–19??) and acquired a complete Buddhist canon (dazangjing 大藏經), simultaneously raising an additional twenty thousand yuan to support the temple’s ongoing activities. In the eighteenth year of the Republic (1929), a Tripiṭaka Repository (Cangjinglou 藏經樓) was constructed on the temple grounds to house the entire Buddhist canon. Following this round of reconstruction, Jingju Temple experienced steady growth and flourished. As its facilities expanded, the incense offerings remained constant, and it emerged as the largest Buddhist center in Jinan at the time. Eminent monks such as Master Tanxu 倓虛 (1875–1963) and Master Zhenkong 真空 (1872–1952) visited in succession to deliver teachings (Tanxu 2003, p. 258).

After the outbreak of the Sino-Japanese War, the Japanese government attempted to co-opt Buddhism as an instrument of its expansionist aims. It established various Buddhist organizations and endeavored to intervene in a wide range of activities within China’s Buddhist community. The Buddhist Tongyuan Association (Fojiao tongyuanhui 佛教同願會), in particular, emerged as a distinctive and influential organization operating under Japanese government supervision. Although it publicly professed to “promote the Dharma” and “revitalize East Asian Buddhism,” its true objective was to strengthen spiritual control over the people of North China—and ultimately all of China—through religious means. Jingju Temple, due to its strategic location in Jinan and its large following, maintained ties with the Jinan branch of Chion-in (知恩院)5, and subsequently became one of the primary local sites for the activities of the Buddhist Tongyuan Association in Jinan. However, in August 1945, following Japan’s announcement of unconditional surrender, the Buddhist organizations that Japan had established across China disintegrated one after another, including the headquarters and regional branches of the Buddhist Tongyuan Association. The Jinan branch of the Buddhist Tongyuan Association was likewise dissolved. Under instructions from the Nationalist Government, the Shandong branch of the Chinese Buddhist Association was then installed at Jingju Temple, with Qin Qishang 秦其裳 (18??–19??)—Director-General of the Committee for the Families of Anti-Japanese Martyrs 抗日烈士遺族委員會理事長—serving as Director-General, and the monk Jingkong 淨空 (18??–19??) as President. Membership in the Jinan area alone exceeded six hundred (Y. Zhang 2002, p. 2051). Subsequently, the outbreak of the Chinese Civil War led to Jinan’s renewed downfall. The temple compound was first unlawfully occupied by military forces, who seized the Tripiṭaka Repository, the school, and the guest quarters in their entirety (Haichao Yin 1947, p. 29). It was then requisitioned for use as a temporary hospital for relief. After the founding of the People’s Republic of China, Jingju Temple’s land was redistributed during the agrarian reforms, and its buildings were commandeered for other uses. Today, the site has been repurposed as Jinan Hospital, leaving only the stone tablet bearing the name of Jingju Temple and the “holy water well (shengshuijing 聖水井)” as vestiges of its former existence.

3. Interactions Between Jingju Temple and the Japanese Side—Focusing on the Buddhist Tongyuan Association

In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, Sino-Japanese Buddhist exchanges—especially Jōdo Shinshū’s pioneering missionary work in China— represented far more than the overseas propagation of Japanese Buddhism. From its inception in the late nineteenth century, this religious outreach was deeply intertwined with Japan’s imperial ambitions. Institutions like the Shanghai Nishi Hongwanji Temple (上海西本願寺) functioned not only as religious centers but also as vehicles for the nation’s foreign policy (Ketelaar 1993, p. 202). As Japan’s expansionism intensified, this relationship became more explicit, with many Buddhist sects actively aligning with and supporting militarism and wartime operations in China, often under the banner of a shared Asian Buddhist identity that served to legitimize Japanese aggression (Victoria 2006, p. 130). Following the Marco Polo Bridge Incident of 7 July 1937 (Lugouqiaoshibian 盧溝橋事變), Japanese Buddhist missions in China transitioned from independent initiatives carried out by various sects to organized activities serving state-directed strategic goals. Within regions under Japanese control, these missions were systematically incorporated into the broader framework of so-called “senbu (宣撫)” efforts, which refers to a kind of pacification and propaganda campaigns designed to win the support of the local population. They included dispatching military chaplains (jūgunsō 従軍僧)6 and establishing missionary institutions, seeking to leverage Buddhist teachings for political propaganda. Meanwhile, the Japanese authorities attempted to secure the cooperation of local Buddhist leaders by founding various Buddhist organizations, thereby constructing a collaborative religious network to more effectively “educate” or indoctrinate Chinese communities. It is in this context that Jingju Temple maintained frequent interactions with entities such as the Buddhist Tongyuan Association and the Shandong Gongsheng Academy (Shandonggongshengxueyuan 山東共生學院), affiliated with the Chion-in branch in Jinan. As a result, the temple emerged as an important hub in Jinan, yet it also gradually revealed the complexity of interwoven and mutually exploitative relationships with political forces.

3.1. Establishment of the Buddhist Tongyuan Association Headquarters and Its Jinan Branch

Under the guidance and influence of the Kōa-in’s (興亞院) Liaison Department for China (duihualianluobu 對華聯絡部), and through the joint efforts of the Tibetan Venerable Monk AnQin Hutuketu 安欽呼圖克圖, puppet government officials Wang Yitang 王揖唐 (1877–1948) and Jin Yunpeng 靳雲鵬 (1877–1951), as well as lay Buddhist Xia Lianju 夏蓮居 (1884–1965) and others, the Buddhist Tongyuan Association (Fojiao tongyuanhui 佛教同願會) was formally established at Guangji Temple (Guangjisi 廣濟寺) in Beijing at the end of December 1938 (Kōji 2023, pp. 51–52). More than a thousand representatives—including monks from various temples in Beijing, members of Buddhist charitable organizations, and delegates from agencies of the “puppet Provisional Government of the Republic of China 偽中華民國臨時政府”—attended the founding assembly. At this meeting, Anqin Duojieqiang 安欽多傑鏘 (1884–1947) was unanimously chosen as President of the Buddhist Tongyuan Association, with Wang Yitang serving as Vice-President. Master Taixu 太虛 (1890–1947), Master Yinguang 印光 (1862–1940), Jin Yunpeng, and Wu Peifu 吳佩孚 (1874–1939) were named Honorary Presidents, and Xia Lianju was appointed Director General (Z. Zhang 2009, p. 9). In reality, both Master Taixu and Master Yinguang had previously made statements opposing Japan’s invasion of China, and neither was in Beiping (Beijing) at that time. Consequently, it is reasonable to infer that the Buddhist Tongyuan Association sought to capitalize on Master Taixu’s reputation and influence. Likewise, Master Yinguang, widely revered in the Pure Land tradition, may have been included because many of the monks within the organization respected his stature. Following its founding, the Buddhist Tongyuan Association successively set up branches in North China’s strategically important provinces under Japanese and puppet regime (Riweizhengfu 日偽政府) control—such as Hebei 河北, Shandong 山東, and Henan 河南—all falling under the jurisdiction of the Association’s headquarters and the puppet government. Through these branches, it successfully increased its influence and infiltration among local Buddhist communities.

From its inception, the Tongyuan Association stipulated:

“All abbots and retired abbots of Chinese Buddhist temples shall be members of this Association. Anyone who sincerely believes in Buddhism and supports the goals of this Association may also become a member, subject to recommendation by at least two current members and approval by the Board of Directors”.

“凡中國佛教寺院住持及退居均應爲本會會員, 其篤信佛教讚成本會宗旨之緒素, 由本會會員二人以上之介紹, 經理事會審查認可者, 均得爲本會會員.”.

(Tongyuan xuebao 1940, p. 34).

Each member enjoyed both the right to vote and the right to stand for election; they were also required to participate in the various study groups and Dharma assemblies organized by the Association. Not only did the Association exert pressure on local monks, effectively coercing their membership, but it also actively recruited Japanese nationals. Internally, it was largely managed by lay practitioners, many of whom were influential figures in puppet governments at various levels and maintained close ties with the Japanese side. In contrast, monastics were relegated to a passive position. Moreover, Japanese advisors provided guidance on the Association’s affairs and at times directly intervened in decision-making. The Association even invited Japanese missionaries active in China to serve as advisors, thereby further influencing its operations. Following its established plans, the Buddhist Tongyuan Association gradually set up local branches across North China, bringing them all under the control of the main headquarters. Typically, the presidents and directors of these branches were either eminent local monks or officials and laypeople connected to the regional governments. Japanese or puppet government officials and representatives from Japanese intelligence agencies, appointed as honorary presidents, generally did not participate in day-to-day management. Still, they retained decisive authority over major policies and events.

The Jinan branch of the Buddhist Tongyuan Association was established on 20 May 1942, with over 200 people in attendance (Foxue yuekan 1942, p. 30). On this occasion, the Beijing headquarters dispatched Zhou Shujia 周叔迦 (1899–1970), a standing board member, to participate in the ceremony and provide guidance for the branch’s membership. During the proceedings, Zhao Liantang 趙蓮塘 (18??–19??), a lay Buddhist and puppet provincial councilor, delivered the opening remarks and gave an account of the preparatory work leading up to the branch’s formation. Lu Xiangchen 陸驤忱 (18??–19??), secretary of the puppet Highway Bureau and an executive board member of the Jinan branch, then announced the list of newly appointed officers. Tang Yangdu 唐仰杜 (1888–1951), the puppet governor, was named honorary president; the incumbent abbot of Jingju Temple, Venerable Keguan 可觀 (18??–19??), was appointed president; Zhao Liantang served as director-general; and four other individuals were installed as executive board members, with three group leaders also elected. Subsequently, the heads of various government agencies delivered speeches, lending an air of formality and importance to the event. From the composition of its officers, it is evident that, much like the headquarters, the principal aim of the Jinan branch was to co-opt local society via puppet government support. The branch’s executive board members and group leaders were predominantly well-known local lay practitioners, including puppet government officials and representatives of the Japanese special services. By contrast, there was only a single temple monastic—Venerable Jingzhai 靜齋 (18??–19??) from Jingju Temple—holding office (Y. Zhang 2002, p. 2051). Clearly, in founding the Jinan branch, the Japanese authorities intended to use the puppet government as a conduit for assimilating the citizens of Jinan, thereby expanding Japanese Buddhist influence within both the region and China at large, ultimately striving to realize their vision of the so-called “Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere (dadongya gongrongquan 大東亞共榮圈)”.

Since its establishment at the end of 1938, the Buddhist Tongyuan Association—ostensibly dedicated to “collective endeavors to strengthen Buddhism, develop a new East Asian order, and shape a new East Asian spirit 同謀扶植佛教, 同謀髮展建設東亞新秩序, 建設東亞新精神” (Tongyuan xuebao 1940, pp. 42–43)—engaged in a variety of initiatives, including promoting Buddhist teachings, founding Buddhist colleges, offering charitable relief, and guiding Buddhist reform. Over time, it evolved into the largest lay-oriented Buddhist organization in North China. Yet, in actual practice, it was inescapably subject to the influence of both the Japanese government and puppet regimes. Amid the confusion created by a complex environment in which religion and state, military and religious affairs, were tightly interwoven, some people perceived the Tongyuan Association as a force capable of fulfilling a lofty vision of “cooperating in the nation-building process from a religious standpoint, not only to compensate for the inadequacies of politics and education but also to ensure social stability, safeguard the rear territories, and thereby attain peace across East Asia 以宗教之立場, 協力國家建設, 不但可以輔助政治、教育之不足, 即民生之安定、後方之基地任務之達成、東亞和平之建立” (Tongyuan 1944, p. 17). In reality, however, it was reduced to a mere instrument of political power. Both the organization and execution of its religious activities, as well as its membership composition—across the Association’s headquarters and its various branches in North China—remained under the supervision of the ruling authorities. Jingju Temple’s relationship with the Association offers a particularly thorough and nuanced example of this characteristic.

3.2. Activities Between the Jinan Branch of the Buddhist Tongyuan Association and Jingju Temple

Operating under the leadership, guidance, and oversight of its headquarters, the Jinan Branch of the Buddhist Tongyuan Association (Fojiao tongyuanhui 佛教同願會) coordinated its initiatives with those of the main Association. In accordance with its bylaws, the branch was required to send representatives to attend the annual meetings at the headquarters in Beiping (Beijing). Moreover, from its inception, the Association—positioned as a religious institution dedicated to spreading and promoting Buddhism—held Dharma assemblies, Ullambana services (yulanpenhui 盂蘭盆會), Water and Land Dharma Service (shuilufahui 水陸法會), and other events on Bodhisattva birthdays and enlightenment anniversaries. During these occasions, local branches were expected to hold simultaneous Dharma activities in their respective areas, albeit with a certain degree of autonomy in deciding the details. In this context, the Jinan Branch collaborated with the headquarters to organize multiple Dharma assemblies at Jingju Temple (Z. Zhang 2009, pp. 24–25):

• On 22 May 1942, in coordination with the Association and the Japanese Buddhist Union, and in conjunction with Beihai Xiaoxitian 北海小西天 and the Qingdao Branch, a celebration was held for the Buddha’s birthday. Staff of the Association, the temple’s monastics, and representatives from various agencies attended;
• On 13 November 1942, the Jinan branch held a seven-day Water and Land Dharma Service (shuiludaochangqiyongri 水陸道場七永日), with participants drawn from Jinan Branch members;
• On 7 January 1943, another Water and Land Dharma Service was conducted, attracting devotees from various sectors; daily attendance exceeded two hundred people.

Events such as these were open not only to Tongyuan Association members but also warmly welcomed representatives from Chinese and Japanese governmental agencies as well as other devotees. For example, the Jinan Branch of the Buddhist Tongyuan Association, along with the Beijing and Qingdao branches, celebrated the birth of Sakyamuni Buddha in May 1942. In addition to the existing Qingyi monks 青衣僧, Huangyi monks 黃衣僧7, and Japanese monks presiding over the ceremony, participants included Investigator Takeda Hiroshi 武田凞8 of the Kōa-in, Japanese Tendō children 天童稚兒9, the Secretary-General of the Municipal Public Office (shigongshu 市公署), and various local Buddhist societies, totaling several thousand people. The declaration stated, “Now that peace will be established, China and Japan are working closely together 現在和平建國, 中日兩國, 緊密提攜,” and expressed the desire to achieve “the Republic of China, Japan, and Manchukuo sharing the same faith and aspirations, coexisting and prospering, to respond to current events, and jointly move towards the great path of liberating East Asia, 中日滿三國人民同信同願、共存共榮, 來應付時事, 共同趨於解放東亞的大道.” It also emphasized “infinite hope for the glorious and brilliant future of the Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere. 對於大東亞共榮圈光榮燦爛的前途, 實抱有無窮的希望,” and that the ultimate goal of this event was to “understand current situations, arouse bodhicitta, and firmly uphold the four great vows 認清時事、髮菩提心、堅守四誓弘願” (Tongyuan yuekan 1942, pp. 118–19). Amid the hardships of war, these assemblies temporarily offered a sense of spiritual refuge and consolation to participants. Nevertheless, at the same time, they embodied and disseminated a carefully orchestrated message—framed by both Chinese and Japanese authorities—of Buddhism’s “borderless 無國界” nature and the ideal of “Oneness and wholeness 大同一體.”

Under the direction of the Jinan Branch, Jingju Temple also hosted a memorial service (Weilingji 慰靈祭) to honor the spirits of those who had “sacrificed themselves for the cause of East Asian construction 挺身於東亞建設而犧牲之日華英靈,” held on the Zhongyuan Festival (zhongyuanji 中元節) of 31 August 1942. Japanese and Chinese clergy jointly performed rites to deliver the fallen soldiers. High-ranking officials—such as the puppet governor of Shandong, the puppet mayor of Jinan, and Chinese and Japanese heads of various local bureaus—personally attended the ceremony and offered incense, lending an air of solemnity and formality to the occasion (Chenbao 1942). Under the control of the puppet regime, this memorial service—organized by the Jinan Branch of the Buddhist Tongyuan Association through the monks of Jingju Temple—demonstrated close ties with the Japanese government and Buddhist circles. At the same time, it extolled the deeds of the Japanese military involved in the invasion of China. Nevertheless, such non-traditional Chinese Buddhist events did little to fulfill the temple monastics’ original aspiration to spread the Dharma and offer spiritual solace to believers. Instead, they mainly delivered a political message, projecting a sense of protection and support from governmental powers to both the local Buddhist community and ordinary followers in Jinan. Consequently, these purported memorial services, centered around honoring the war dead, became a social and popularized instrument of wartime political propaganda in the region.

In addition, under the banner of “praying for world peace,” the Buddhist Tongyuan Association held collective Pure Land chanting sessions (gongxiunianfohui 共修念佛會) at Pure Land temples in both China and Japan, conducted rain-praying ceremonies (qiyudaochang 祈雨道場) and snow-praying ceremonies (qixuedaochang 祈雪道場) during the so-called “Security Strengthening Campaign (zhi’anqianghuayundong 治安強化運動),” and undertook efforts to protect temple properties. On the surface, these activities fostered an image of “Buddhist unity across East Asia (fojiaodatongyiti 佛教大同一體).” Yet their principal purpose remained the consolidation of the puppet regime’s power and the fulfillment of Japan’s wartime objectives. In compliance with directives from the Association’s headquarters, Jingju Temple hosted a rain-praying ceremony in 1943. Because of severe drought—“dry conditions caused the winter wheat to wither 天氣亢旱、二麥枯槁”—grain production was threatened. Under the supervision of Venerable Keguan 可觀, Jingju Temple inaugurated the “Great Cloud Wheel Rain-Praying Dharma Assembly”, devoutly reciting sutras in the hope of universally protecting the masses 啟建大雲輪請雨法會, 虔誦經典, 以期普護蒼生.” Representatives of the puppet North China Political Council (Weihuabei zhengwu weiyuanhui 偽華北政務委員會), as well as Japanese military, government, and Buddhist figures, all came to offer incense; soon afterward, it rained heavily for two consecutive days (Tongyuan yuekan 1943, p. 19). Although on the surface these rites cultivated an image of concern for public welfare, they actually served the aim of increasing agricultural yields for the benefit of Japan’s war effort and further solidified puppet rule. Thus, the notion of an “Dongya fojiao yitihua 東亞佛教一體化,” as propagated by the puppet government, was profoundly deceptive, leading the Buddhist Tongyuan Association—its Jinan branch included—to be exploited as a tool of Japanese colonial dominance.

4. An Analysis: Interactions Between Jingju Temple and the Japanese Side During Wartime

Amid the flames of war, Jingju Temple in Jinan gradually transformed its religious and political roles under the influence of the puppet regime and the influx of Japanese Buddhism. As the Sino-Japanese War progressed, this transformation became increasingly evident. Although the temple had experienced a brief period of revival following its reconstruction in the early Republican era—a span of just three decades—it found itself progressively edged out in the modern tug-of-war between religion and politics. In the autumn of 1948, during the liberation of Jinan, fleeing Nationalist planes bombed and destroyed the temple’s main Buddha Hall (daxiongbaodian 大雄寶殿) and its Tripiṭaka Repository (cangjinglou 藏經樓), leading to the dispersal of the resident monks. After the founding of the People’s Republic, the Jinan authorities did not restore the temple because of its sensitive nature, and it eventually disappeared from public view, fading away with the changing of political regimes. As wartime religious sites with both spiritual and physical dimensions, such sites frequently serve as special arenas for multiple power struggles, revealing a distinctive kind of political utility within colonial structures. At the same time, analyses of these sites’ situation have long been overshadowed by a binary framework of “resistance” or “collaboration”; some famous temples, such as Jing’an Temple 靜安寺 and Longhua Temple 龍華寺 in Shanghai, were labeled with the political tag “traitor temples (hanjian si 漢奸寺).” As Timothy Brook points out in his book Collaboration: Japanese Agents and Local Elites in Wartime China, “collaboration” itself is a broad spectrum rather than a single moral or political label. It encompasses multiple levels, from coerced “compliance” to “strategic accommodation” for survival, and even active “opportunistic collaboration” (Brook 2005, p. 29). Jingju Temple’s experience—marked by a rapid flourishing followed by a sudden decline—reflects both the common characteristics of modern Sino-Japanese Buddhist exchanges and prompts us to rethink Buddhism–state relations. More importantly, this case provides us with a perspective through which to observe the process of Buddhism’s localization under the external pressures of wartime and colonial occupation. Superficially, this process appears to exemplify how religious sites were politicized and exploited during wartime. Suppose we place Jingju Temple’s activities within Timothy Brook’s explanation. In that case, we will find that its actions were not simply submission or betrayal, but is a strategic accommodation to ensure the temple’s own survival and lineage maintained under unequal political conditions.

From a spatial perspective, Jingju Temple in Jinan—an important Buddhist monastery in both the city and the broader Shandong region during the Republican period—offered an ideal platform for colonial authorities to carry out the “politicization of space.” Situated on West Hougangzi 後崗子 Street, along Lishan 歷山 Road, in an eastern suburb that had gradually transformed into a residential area from the late Qing to the early Republican era, the temple’s advantageous location near a major thoroughfare ensured a tight linkage between the surrounding network of streets and the distribution of military and governmental offices. While close to the heart of the city, it still retained the requisite seclusion of a religious setting. The colonizers deliberately exploited this duality of being both centrally accessible and peacefully secluded to extend their ideological reach via religious events, creating an extensive propaganda network. Additionally, the temple’s community of believers ranged from ordinary citizens to political and commercial elites, including high-ranking puppets of the Japanese regime—figures such as Zhu Guishan 朱桂山 (1880–1946), the puppet mayor of Jinan, who frequently visited the temple. Following its reconstruction, the temple covered an area of approximately 40,000 square meters. It featured over a hundred buildings, including the Main Buddha Hall and the Hall of the Heavenly Kings, as well as a modern Tripiṭaka repository that housed the complete Qing edition of the Buddhist Canon (大藏經) (Michihata 1985, p. 308). With a capacity for more than eighty resident monks and large gatherings of worshippers during Dharma assemblies (JNJJS 2023), the temple served as the foremost center of Buddhist activities in Jinan and its surrounding areas. Its prominence is attested by records such as the Itsugai hōka-roku (Yihai fanghualu 《乙亥訪華録》), which notes that during a 35-day tour of various temples in the region, Yamamoto Genpō 山本玄峰 (1866–1961) and his group visited only Jingju Temple in Jinan (Nikka Bukkyō Kenkyūkai 1935, p. 36)10. Further evidence can be found in the Guide to Sightseeing in Jinan City (Jinan Shi Guanguang Zhinan 《濟南市觀光指南》), compiled by the Jinan Municipal Government (Jinanshigongshu 濟南市公署) for Japanese visitors, which gives Jingju Temple top billing among local historical sites (JNSGSMCS 1940, p. 10). Moreover, its position within Jinan’s wartime religious network was evident through its communication of Buddhist principles and cooperation with the ceremony at the Shandong Gongsheng Academy (山東共生學院), one of the missionary branches of the Japanese Chion-in Temple (知恩院). Therefore, Jingju Temple gained a unique socio-political prominence that distinguished it from other local monasteries, such as the more historically revered Shentong Temple (Shentongsi 神通寺) and Xingguo Temple (Xingguosi 興國寺) in Jinan, which seldom engaged in politics. Building on these connections, the Buddhist Tongyuan Association and its various Dharma assemblies established a collaborative religious–political framework in which the traditional temple served both ritual and political mobilization purposes. This appears to be a strategy by Japanese authorities to intertwine Buddhist teachings with political ideology, attempting to cultivate a “shared Buddhist lineage 法脈同源” across China and Japan, thereby reinforcing the notion of a “borderless” East Asian Buddhism and amplifying propaganda for “senbu.” However, if the perspective shifts from the unilateral exploitation by colonizers to the complex interactions between Chinese and Japanese Buddhists—especially by incorporating the Sino-Japanese Society for the Study of Buddhism (Nikka bukkyō kenkyūkai 日華佛教研究會)11 into the analysis and consideration—a phenomenon emerges in the case of Jingju Temple that is detached from the original analysis of the Japanese colonialism.

Despite the historical background, most Japanese Buddhist sects were caught in the tide of the system. However, their original intention of being rooted in Buddhism fundamentally differed from the political propaganda of Japanese militarism. Specifically, according to the records of the Study of Japanese-Chinese Buddhism, its establishment was not “to assist the Japanese government in expanding into the mainland under the banner of East Asian unity 在東亞團結的旗幟下, 協助當時日本政府向大陸擴張,” but rather stemmed from the desire of its head, Hayashi Genmyō 林彥明, “to strengthen cooperation between Japanese and Chinese Buddhists 加強日中佛教徒合作的願望,” and hoped “to lay the foundation for true peace and friendship between the two parts through religion, especially Buddhism 透過宗教, 尤其是佛教, 來奠定日支真正和平親善的基礎.” Although the organization sought assistance and guidance from the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (外務省) and the Kōa-in (興亞院) to facilitate investigations and surveys in mainland China, to achieve Sino-Japanese Buddhist cooperation and friendship, this indispensable practical factor at the time precisely highlighted its non-official religious subjectivity (Saito and Fukuhara 2011, p. 98). At the same time, the East Asian Buddhist Conference (Dongya fojiao dahui 東亞佛教大會) in 1925 also attracted the attention of Master Tanxu 倓虚 and Layman Wang Yiting 王一亭 (1867–1938), who gradually became supporters of the Study of Japanese-Chinese Buddhism ten years later, repeatedly facilitating visits to China and building an important bridge for exchanges between Japanese and Chinese Buddhist circles (Saito and Fukuhara 2011, p. 91). It was this pure motivation and practice that provided a “middle ground” for Jingju Temple’s predicament. On the one hand, the original intention of the Study of Japanese-Chinese Buddhism was to achieve “good neighborly friendship among Buddhists 佛教徒的睦鄰友好” and “hope for peace in Asia and even the world 期盼亞洲乃至世界和平” without relying on military personnel or politicians. They sought to invoke the Dharma, which both China and Japan commonly understood as a cultural prerequisite, to strengthen understanding and exchange. For example, the visiting delegation gave different lectures such as “Critique in the style of Hetuvidya 因明論式的批判” and “New and Old Translations of Vijnaptimatrata 新舊兩譯的唯識學” at every place they went, which were “attended by over three hundred people, making it quite a grand event 聽眾三百餘名，頗爲盛會”. When they arrived in Jinan on 2 July 1935, they visited Jingju Si and discovered that it was also a lodge (Jihuisuo 集會所) for laymen’s practice (Nikka Bukkyō Kenkyūkai 1935, pp. 16–35). On the other hand, for Jingju Temple, which was located in occupied territory and faced different political regimes, armed resistance could not bring long-term development. Through exchanges with Japanese Buddhist groups via the Buddhist Tongyuan Association (Fojiao tongyuanhui 佛教同願會), and by anchoring the focus of Sino-Japanese dialogue on “Dharma” rather than “politics,” Jingju Temple entered a negotiable “middle ground.” The exchanges between the two sides thus became a way of fostering Buddhist friendship and maintaining Dharma ties, rather than a one-way political subservience based on inherent perceptions (White 2010, p. 52). Therefore, Jingju Temple not only served as a carrier of local Dharma, hosting rituals and connecting Buddhist communities, but also as a continuator, maintaining the Dharma lineage in transnational exchanges. Far from being Japanized, it reconfigured the influence of external forces while upholding the essence of Dharma and consolidating its autonomy, demonstrating its strong adaptability and resilience. This transcends the simple binary opposition of “cooperation” and “resistance”.

Although Chinese Buddhism influenced the emergence of Japanese Buddhism both directly and indirectly, Japanese traditions forged a uniquely integrated relationship with state power almost from the outset. In the Nara 奈良 and the Kamakura 鎌倉 period, reciting Buddhist scriptures, such as “Golden Light of the Most Victorious Kings Sutra” (《金光明最勝王經》), and preaching Buddhist doctrines were considered a means of saving the country, which was the prevailing doctrine of chingo kokka (Zhenhuguojia 鎮護国家). While Chinese Buddhism also experienced periods of imperial patronage, its relationship with the state was often more contentious, marked by severe persecution. Other examples of institutional Buddhism entwined with the administration, like the danka system (檀家制度)12 in the Edo 江戶 period (1603–1868), cannot be found in China either. This legacy continues to shape its character today, solidifying its primary social role in ritual life. Furthermore, Japanese Buddhism, starting in the Meiji period, underwent a sweeping transformation, aligning itself proactively with the formation of the nation-state and civil society, and treating this adaptation as a form of “modernization.” During the same era, Chinese Buddhism—already subject to late-Qing and early-Republican reforms and the “Build Schools with Temple Property” (Miaochan xingxue 廟產興學) movement—underwent several parallel shifts toward modernity. Chinese Buddhism in Republican China, in response to the complex crises, gave rise to self-reforms such as “Rensheng Fojiao 人生佛教” and “Renjian Fojiao 人間佛教.” These internal reforms represented a conscious effort to modernize and localize of Buddhism. After the Sino-Japanese war began, many monks also driven by a patriotic mission (huguoshiming 護國使命) or spirit expressed as “shangma shazei, xiama xuefo 上馬殺賊, 下馬學佛13,” formed sangha relief units and promoted resistance against Japan (Xue 2011, p. 80). In the occupied areas, however, the defense of temples’ property and the maintenance of monastic organization became a more restrained and complex form of protecting the faith (hujiao 護教) compared with the former spirit. Although a handful of individual Buddhists made notable efforts and took proactive measures, overall they were unable to effect a broad reformation in Buddhism. Against this background, the trend of Japanese monks coming to China to build temples and propagate the Dharm, led by Ogurisu Kōchō 小栗栖香頂 (1831–1905), advocated for a more active approach to strengthening Sino-Japanese Buddhist exchange and revitalizing what they saw as a stagnating Chinese Buddhism. This was considered the starting point of Japan’s ideological and cultural “export” to China—thereby ushering in a phase during which China began to accept Japan’s influence in these domains (Chen 2017, p. 4). It is important to note, however, that these early missionary endeavors in China were not initially intended to serve Japan’s expansionist aims. Rather, they stemmed from the view that Chinese Buddhism was in dire need of reform and that a more advanced Japan had an obligation to assist in this process. During wartime, however, cooperation between Japanese Buddhism and the government shifted from a joint religious–government effort to a more instrumentalized form of practice and “pacification” work. In addition to sending military chaplains who provided spiritual support to soldiers, performed Buddhist rites for the war dead, and engaged in battlefield propaganda, Japan’s Buddhist organizations and puppet regimes also established institutions to consolidate temples and bring monastics under Japanese management, thereby furthering the colonial transformation of local religious organizations.

At that time, the monks in the occupied areas faced a severe dilemma: open resistance would lead to the destruction of the temple and their own demise, while collaborating with the enemy meant a complete loss of autonomy, rendering them a tool of colonization and despised by the people. Examining the Jingju Temple as a public monastery (Shifangconglin 十方叢林) within this context, its actions cannot be equated with collaborating with the enemy or betrayal. From the perspective of Buddhism’s revitalization and reform, it reveals a pragmatic consideration—that is, by continuing to maintain its role as a social religious venue through holding ceremonies, and by leveraging the resources of Japanese Buddhism to ensure its own survival and expand its influence. Specializing in Pure Land teachings, Jingju Temple in 1940 dispatched its monk Venerable Keguan 可觀 to represent Jinan in the Buddhist Tongyuan Association’s North China Buddhist Inspection Delegation (Huabei Fojiao Shichatuan 華北佛教視察團), which traveled to Tokyo, Kyoto, Nara, and other historical sites—visiting 64 celebrated temples and even receiving “diplomatic” treatment at the Japanese Diet (Z. Zhang 2009, p. 59). Furthermore, Jingju Temple and the Jinan Branch of Chion-in (知恩院) jointly participated in Pure Land chanting assemblies (別時念佛法會) and a Sino-Japanese Joint Memorial Service for the war dead, hosted by the Sino-Japanese Society for the Study of Buddhism (Nikka bukkyō kenkyūkai 日華佛教研究會). Both parties found common ground in the ideal of “equal compassion toward enemies and loved ones alike (yuanqin pingdeng 怨親平等)” (Tsukamoto 1939, pp. 41–43). In addition, holding Japanese-styled ceremonies, such as Ireisai (慰靈祭)14, the temple gained access to Japanese publicity networks, which in turn attracted the attention of high-ranking puppet government officials, thereby securing a measure of political protection. Through these ceremonies, activities and exposure in the newspaper, Jingju Temple significantly increased its status within Jinan’s Buddhist and political communities. Even after the war, numerous foreign visitors to Jinan, including U.S. Information Service North China Military Liaison Officer Slade and Indian Ambassador to China Menon and his wife, visited Jingju Temple (Minguo Ribao, 1945; Dagongbao Shanghai, 1947). The actions displayed by Jingju Temple’s during this period essentially reflect the survival paradox of a vulnerable religious institution navigating the tumult of the Republican era: on the one hand, reviving the temple by drawing upon Japanese Buddhist resources to maintain the continuity of its lineage; on the other hand, relying on cooperation with the Japanese government to limit the loss of religious autonomy under colonial dominance. This trajectory—combining the cultural resonance of “shared Buddhist lineage 法脈同源” with the political calculations of “religious co-prosperity 宗教共榮”—embodies the dual nature of modern Sino-Japanese Buddhist interaction. At the same time, it presents a salient case study for understanding how religious sites adapted to the context of modern colonial warfare.

Viewed through the lens of modernity, each East Asian country—operating under its own regime—has historically engaged with Buddhist scriptures, thought, and rituals in ways that served the establishment and maintenance of the state. As a result, in discussions about the relationship between Buddhism and the state in premodern East Asian societies, one often encounters a seemingly uniform model of “church–state unity.” Yet beneath these superficial similarities lie profound differences. As an analytical category, Buddhism—functioning as a powerful resource for nation-building, governance, and international relations—complicates attempts to describe the relationships among diverse historical periods, regimes, and broader sociopolitical contexts in East Asia undergoing cultural transformation and adaptation. Earlier research on Buddhism–state relations has frequently focused on Buddhism’s role in supporting the state and the state’s sponsorship of Buddhism, suggesting that Buddhist institutions were closely tied to the center of political power. Such analyses often focus on Buddhist resources and authority within a single country, assuming an unchallenged top-down system that all Buddhist groups were obliged to follow. However, this perspective does not readily apply to discussions of the relationship between Buddhism and politics during wartime—particularly in contexts of colonialism and occupation. Under such conditions, the rapport between political authorities and Buddhist communities typically manifests as a dynamic of mutual exploitation: the authorities utilize Buddhist groups to advance their political agendas, while the monastic community may be unaware of—or underestimate—the potential consequences of their cooperation. In the absence of any true convergence between religious practice and political aims, Jingju Temple’s engagement with the Japanese side exemplified this mutual exploitation. On the one hand, Jingju Temple served as a symbolic venue for the Japanese regime to showcase “religious co-prosperity.” On the other hand, the temple also leveraged the regime’s rhetoric to reinforce its own position as a regional religious hub.

Notably, the political instrumentalization of Jingju Temple not only symbolized a deeper penetration of colonial rule but also illustrated a relational model aligned with the extension of power. Rather than merely requisitioning a religious site, the Japanese authorities created the illusion of Buddhist development by establishing Buddhist colleges and printing scriptures. The puppet mayor of Jinan, Zhu Guishan 朱桂山 (1880–1946), along with other political figures, took part in various events at Jingju Temple, and related news coverage shaped a public narrative of “harmonious Buddhism–state relations 政教和諧.” Jingju Temple appears to have become a showcase for colonial and political power, with the Japanese side using religion to mask its political intentions. In fact, what is displayed is a new way in which religion and politics could coexist. Jingju Temple did not fully accept the Japanese conception of Buddhism; rather, it may have contained an insistence on the temple’s autonomy and an attempt to transcend the colonizers’ authority. When they emphasized ideas like “Sino-Japanese amity” and “equal compassion toward enemies and loved ones alike (Yuanqin pingdeng 怨親平等)” at various ceremonies, this may have amounted to an endorsement of the Japanese government’s “religious co-prosperity 宗教共榮” policy. However, for Chinese Buddhists and laymen, it was primarily an emphasis on foundational Buddhist teachings, such as “being compassionate 慈悲為懷” and “delivering all living beings from suffering 普渡眾生,” as well as a mourning for the war dead that amounted to a veiled plea for peace transcending narrow nationalism. Both sides drew the answers they wanted from the same words. This vague and polysemous discourse enabled them to appropriate and reinterpret an external, political statement through the indigenous Chinese Buddhist values, thereby achieving a temporary coexistence. Accordingly, Jingju Temple’s fluctuating fortunes highlight a deep-seated paradox facing modern religious sites amid geopolitical struggles: once a sacred space is drawn into the vortex of power, its inherent religious essence inevitably undergoes structural distortion and alienation. This unique historical predicament not only reveals how colonial governance leveraged religion to achieve strategic infiltration but also prompts us to rethink the preservation and expression of religious autonomy during wartime. When religion is reduced to an appendage of political propaganda, how can a religious site continue to safeguard and manifest its distinct spiritual value and identity, even as it becomes a casualty in the contest for political power?

5. Conclusions and Discussion

Focusing on Jingju Temple in Jinan during the Sino-Japanese War, this article has examines how this local temple, under political pressure, transcended the established binary framework of “resistance versus cooperation” in Buddhist–state relations, and how it maintained localized practices through its interactions with Japanese Buddhist organizations. On the one hand, the Japanese government and puppet regimes sought to promote the ideology of a “Greater East Asia Co-Prosperity Sphere 大東亞共榮圈” through the Buddhist Tongyuan Association, aiming to appeal to religious unity and erode the populace’s resistance. On the other hand, although Japanese Buddhists displayed friendliness, the Jingju Temple and local laymen in Jinan endeavored to preserve the original Buddhist value during their interactions and sustain its development with Japanese Buddhist resources. This reflects the difficult choices and agentic adjustments of a temple caught in the squeeze of colonial rule. While maintaining its own religious subjectivity, it also sought to reconstruct or defuse the intentions of colonial power practically. This discussion on temple reformation and doctrinal fusion that transcends traditional categories not only highlights modern Buddhism’s concrete localized responses and strategic coping when faced with political and social crises, but also reveals the adaptability and resilience that local Buddhist temples displayed to survive geopolitical danger, offering profound insights into the implicit patterns of interest exchange between religious sites and colonial governance during wartime. Most importantly, the temple’s pragmatic adaptation under particular historical conditions is an enriched understanding of the localization of Chinese Buddhism.

Nevertheless, this research has its limitations. First and foremost, this study is constrained by the available source materials. Due to the severe damage and loss of the temple’s archives, which are complex historical reasons, primary sources that directly reflect the personal perspectives and inner motivations of the monks at Jingju Temple are exceedingly rare. Consequently, our analysis of their intentions inevitably depends on outside recording and seems speculative to some extent. Second, as for the Shandong Gongsheng Academy (山東共生學院), a branch of Chion-in in Jinan, an important conduit for interaction between Jingju Temple monks and Japanese Buddhist clergy (JNSQ 1939, p. 142). Owing to space constraints, this paper does not fully elaborate on the deeper motives and effects of that religious exchange, which will be investigated further in future work. Secondly, by focusing solely on Jingju Temple, this study has not explored parallel cases. Broadening the scope to other influential Buddhist monasteries in North China, such as Zhan Shan Temple (Zhanshansi 湛山寺) in Qingdao 青島, and comparing their modes of interaction with Japanese authorities could clarify Jingju Temple’s distinctive patterns of church–state relations more clearly. Future research, therefore, should incorporate multiple monasteries and historical periods to more comprehensively reconstruct the diverse landscape of wartime church–state relations, thereby offering new perspectives for intersecting studies on East Asian Buddhist monasteries and modern warfare.