Ricky Wong for TIME

Just after sunrise, in virtually every park and town square in China, clusters of people glide in unison through a set of tranquil, ritualized movements known as qigong, prosaically translated as "breathing exercises" but representing an alluring blend of spiritualism and physical exertion. There are few sights more common across China's vast breadth.

But a buzz has developed around one particular breathing master whose exercises, his followers believe, can not only cure cancer and turn white hair black again, but also provide moral and spiritual guidance. Millions of Chinese are his adherents--so many that the government is visibly concerned. The qigong master, 47-year-old Li Hongzhi, departed China last year for the West and has since expanded his following worldwide. But Li's adherents back home pulled off one of the most astounding protests in recent Chinese history. To register their displeasure over government treatment of the group, 10,000 of Li's followers suddenly assembled on April 25 on the sidewalks around Zhongnanhai, the high-security complex that houses China's top leaders, and sat in meditative postures along a 2-km stretch. The demonstration was peaceful, entirely unexpected and the largest organized show of opposition since the Tiananmen democracy movement in 1989. It ended quietly, with the protesters even picking up their own litter, but only after 12 hours, an audience within Zhongnanhai with Premier Zhu Rongji and his aides, and a government promise that the group's grievances would be addressed within three days.

China isn't sure what to do with Li and his group, known as Falun Gong (literally, "Law of the Wheel Breathing Exercise"). Li estimates that 100 million people perform his exercises and buy his books and audio- and videocassettes. The numbers are impossible to verify, but it's not hard to locate Falun Gong devotees. Advance notice of the group's meetings--in such scattered places as New York, Geneva and Singapore--can be found on dozens of websites maintained by followers. In Beijing, thousands gather virtually every day in open parks to stand in disciplined ranks, eyes closed, and rotate their hands to Li's tape-recorded voice. "I read the Bible and a few Buddhist scriptures but settled on Falun Gong," says Han Zhixiong, 43, a Beijing environmental engineer who has done the exercises for four years. "It seemed to be the most scientific." Li and his followers deny the group is religious or political in nature, and one of their p.r. mantras is that nothing in Falun Gong is organized, including meetings and finances. They describe the recent protest in Beijing as having been spontaneous, as was an angry display in the city of Tianjin the preceding day, in which Falun Gong practitioners held a lively protest at the offices of a magazine that had ridiculed the group. (Local police had to disperse that gathering.)

Followers particularly dislike being dubbed a cult, stressing that Falun Gong improves health, cures illness, promotes moral character and gives new meaning to life. But not all of the disciples in China are aware of how Master Li's own thoughts have evolved over the years. Li speaks of himself in startlingly ethereal terms. "You can think of me as a human being," he told Time in New York City, where he is now based. Asked if he comes from Earth, Li replied: "I don't wish to talk about myself at a higher level. People wouldn't understand it." But what Li offers is just about as good as it gets. He says that Westerners believe in reaching heaven only after death. "In the East," Li asserts, "one can achieve a divine status ... while one is still alive." To many, such visions sound cult-like--and the numbers suggest Li is the leader of the largest such group in the world.

PAGE 1  |  2  |  3

R E L A T E D S T O R I E S : Interview With Falun Gong's mysterious leader, Li Hongzhi