Podcasts about confucian

Xi Zhongxun's Radical Youth and Peasant Roots. Joseph Turigian introduces Xi Zhongxun's biography, emphasizing the Confucian view that a father explains the son. Xi Zhongxun was born into a poor peasant family in Shaanxi province in 1913, an area marked by violence and poverty. At age 15, he poisoned a school administrator on orders from the local Communist Party, leading to his imprisonment, where he formally joined the Chinese Communist Party in 1928, an early mark of prestige. Xi was motivated by radicalism and a belief that only force could save China. Guest: Joseph Turigian. 1906

This episode we cover the first silver mine in Japan, as well as the way that this sovereign is approaching offerings to the kami and handling family matters. For more check out: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-138   Rough Transcript: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Episode 138: Offerings and Covenants   A gentle summer breeze blew through the cherry-tree-covered hills of Yoshino valley.  The royal residence, a kind of summer home for the royal family, normally somewhat quiet, was suddenly abuzz with activity.  The regular groundskeepers and those who tended the site throughout the year mingled with servants sent from the capital to make it ready for a royal visit.  Rooms were aired out and swept. Metal fixtures were polished.  The kitchen was stocked and ready to go. It had been some years since the prince—now sovereign—had resided in the valley as an attempt to proclaim he had retired from the world.  Now he was sitting at the top of the state government, but as such, he was more often than not living in the grand palace in Asuka, which he had renovated at the start of his reign. This, the Yoshino palace, was left as more of a vacation home—though "home" hardly did it justice given its majesty compared to the meager dwellings that otherwise surrounded it. And now there was a massive royal procession on their way.  Sure, it was the sovereign and his queen, and only a handful of princes, but they would each need their own quarters and likely have their own household staff that would no doubt need to be fed and housed.  In such a way a "simple" outing for the royal family was so often anything but for those who had to make it happen. And yet, such labor was much preferred to toiling in the fields, especially as the heat of the day started to rise, and the height of summer loomed large in the all-too-immediate future.   Alright, so we are in the midst of the reign of Ohoama, aka Temmu Tennou, the brother of Naka no Ohoe, who came to power through the use of military force—purportedly used in self-defense—and the sovereign who would have a profound effect on solidifying the Ritsuryo state, as well as the Chronicles and the history of the archipelago as we know it.  We've talked about Ohoama's ascension to the throne, and even his first year.  We mentioned how, during his reign, he rewarded those who helped him, tweaked the rank system, and we talked a bit about what we know of the clothing and the material culture of the period. This episode, we continue looking at what occurred during Ohoama's reign.  Specifically we'll be covering some of the ways in which Ohoama and his court were shaping the government and the structures of power to serve him and his family.  This includes everything from ritual, such as making offerings to various kami, to the way that he seems to have centralized power to himself and his family, which would have lasting impacts through the Asuka and Nara periods. First, though, a tiny little digression about silver.  We start in the 3rd lunar month of the second year since Ohoama ascended the throne, or the year 674 by the western calendar.  We are told that Woshiumi no Miyatsuko no Ohokuni, the governor of Tsushima, the island that formed the main border between the archipelago and the mainland, reported that silver had been produced there for the first time, and sent in some as tribute.  This is the first recorded instance of silver being produced in Japan. At this time, silver mining was mostly limited to finding a vein of silver on the surface and digging it out as far as one could possibly go into the rock and stone.  Still, silver would eventually become an important resource for the archipelago.  Tsushima would continue to produce silver through modern times.  Granted, production was limited until new refining techniques were introduced from Joseon Korea in the 16th century.  This was just as Ming dynasty deposits were declining, and as such, silver would become a major export from the archipelago to the mainland.  Indeed, by the 17th century, it is said that Japan accounted for one quarter to one third of the entire world's silver production. For now, however, the discovery of native silver was certainly a good start, but the Yamato court wasn't switching to a silver coin currency just yet—rice and cloth were still the major currencies for tax and trade purposes.  Still this find seems not insignificant, and clearly the chroniclers thought so as well -- as did the court.  They granted Ohokuni, the governor of Tsushima, the rank of Lower Shoukin.  The silver produced by the mine was offered to the various kami of heaven and earth, and presents were made to the high ministers and others of the rank of Shoukin and above. Now back to the Chronicles, and to the meat of what I'll be talking about this episode. On the 3rd day of the 8th lunar month of 674, we are told that the Royal Prince Wosakabe was sent to Isonokami shrine to polish up the divine treasures, at which point the sovereign made a rather spectacular decree:  he declared that all of the precious things originally deposited in the sacred treasuries by the various houses should be returned to their descendants. This appears to be a reference to the long-standing practice by Yamato of demanding that those they had gained some level of hegemony over turn over their sacred objects for Yamato's keeping.    We talked about this back in episodes 19 and 29, for example, when we talked about how Mimaki Iribiko, aka Sujin Tenno, and Ikume Iribiko, aka Suinin Tenno, had both requested treasures from Izumo and elsewhere, to be stored in the treasure house of Isonokami. We aren't told what all of these treasures were, but we can deduce that these were sacred treasures of the different houses and localities, much as the mirror, jewel, and sword were sacred treasures of Yamato.  These were items that early on distinguished the elite class in the archipelago, and had come to be gathered in the divine store houses.  You may recall how, early on, we saw mentions in the Chroncles that ships sent out to meet with others from different lands would place such treasures on a makeshift tree on the deck as a way of depicting who they were—who they represented. It would seem that these sacred objects came to represent the divine ancestors of the elites, and so eventually were associated with the idea of power and authority.  As Yamato spread its influence, possibly as much through the spiritual authority of Mt. Miwa as through its economic and military capability, it seems to have demanded that the various lands that came under its sway place their sacred treasures in Yamato's storehouse—a powerful image of Yamato's authority.  In a sense, this was a kind of hostage situation: recognize our authority, or your most sacred treasures, representing your ancestors, will be at risk .  One wonders if this isn't part of the reason that we find buried caches of bronze ritual items, including weapons, bells, and other such things, perhaps as a means of keeping them safe from those who would steal them away. However, in the new era of the Ritsuryo system, those objects, while still considered divine and sacred, did not hold the same value as they once had.  Perhaps I'm reading too much into it, but this really seems to me to be particularly illustrative of the idea that the cultural imaginary of state power and authority had shifted.  Yamato's power and authority was no longer based on its role as a spiritual powerhouse as much as it was centered on the continental framework of a heavenly mandate and a system of laws and punishments.   And so, the sovereign could return the sacred items back to their descendants, because to do so did not cost him anything, and at the same time would no doubt earn him goodwill.  He could appear magnanimous and, in so doing, solidify his position as the supreme hegemon of this new state.  In many ways this acknowledged the importance of the divine treasures to the people and to the kami while also no doubt reinforcing Confucian stereotypes of the benevolent ruler. More importantly, this shows how Ohoama was restructuring the rituals of the state.  After all, he had the Jingikan, an entire governmental department dedicated to administering the various shrines and sacred rituals; so even if the sacred treasures were returned, they were still technically under the control of the state apparatus.  We've already talked about the Daijosai, the Feast of First Fruits for a new reign, a central ritual to which Ohoama had added further pomp and circumstance.  But as no less a scholar than Herman Ooms has written about, Ohoama also initiated the practice of ordering regular centralized offerings to not just one particular kami, but to several or even a number of kami, or shrines, at any given time.  We see this in the following year, on the 23rd day of the first lunar month of 675, in an almost off-hand remark. Later, in the 10th month of 676 offerings were made to all of the "Ahimbe" kami of Heaven and Earth—that is all of kami that were part of the festival of first fruits held on the first day of the rabbit on the 11th lunar month.  Offerings were also made to all of the Heavenly and Earthly kami on the second day of the year in 681. Of course, these offerings would not just be enriching the shrines of these various kami, but it would also reflect on the various uji connected to each of those shrines, as well. Another example of the court's involvement in these ritual innovations appears to be the worship of the deities at Tatsuta and Hirose.  The first example of that is also in 675, in the 4th month of that year.  Prince Mino and Saheki no Muraji no Hirotari were sent to the Wind-gods at Tateno, in Tatsuta.  Aston notes that there is a litany to the Wind-gods mentioned in the Engishiki, a 10th century collection of information on various rituals of the time, so this practice seems to have taken hold, at least enough to persist over 3 centuries later.  Also in the 4th month of 675, Hashibito no Muraji no Ohobuta and Sone no Muraji no Karainu were sent to worship the Oho-imi deity at Kahawa, in Hirose. The Oho-imi appears to be a "big abstinence" deity, whom Aston identifies with Waka'ukahime, responsible for food.  Worship is again paid twice in the year 676, once in 677, then twice again in 679, continuing twice a year, almost exclusively in the 4th and 7th lunar months, through the end of the reign.  Why were these particular deities chosen for special worship by the court?  Ooms notes that these shrines were built downstream along the Yamato river, which, along with its tributaries, was responsible for the irrigation of the crops in the Nara basin.  This mirrors, in some ways, the responsibility of rulers in the Yellow River and Yangzi river regions to help ensure the flow of the rivers while preventing devastating flooding – a very continental idea of the responsibilities of the sovereign, though expressed here with a particularly Japanese style. Indeed, Aston associates the deity at Hirose, with the deity of food.   Likewise, the Wind-deities at Tatsuta were also related to helping to grow crops.  After all, Tatsuta would have been situated near the break in the mountains that surrounds the Nara basin, where the Yamato River flows out towards the Kawachi plain.  As anyone who lives near a mountain gap is no doubt familiar, those areas are notorious for channeling weather phenomena, including storms, which can bring rain, but could also bring terrible winds.  So it does seem a natural point to pray for good weather for your harvest or otherwise, given the geography that made up the sovereign's world. We also have, in this reign, considerably more discussion of Ise than we've seen, previously.  In 673 we have the Royal Princess Ohoku no Himemiko entering the Saigu, the Abstinence, or Purification, Palace, where she was to be purified before going to Ise, which she did in the 10th lunar month of 674.  Ohoku is said to have been the first official Saiou, the unmarried royal princess sent to oversee shrine operations, of Ise Shrine.  This is a practice we see at multiple shrines, although it's most prominent at Ise. The term for the position in general is Saiou, although at Ise the royal princess would also be known as the Saiguu, after the purification palace.  Although Ohoku is said to have been the first Saiguu at Ise, this is muddied somewhat by some earlier mentions in the Chronicles.  There are those who are said to have been sent as Shrine Princesses to Ise back in the time of Mimaki Iribiko and Ikume Iribiko, but the process was largely discontinued—or at least rarely mentioned—until this period.  There are certainly several named individuals who are said to have served the Deity of Ise previously, starting with the presumably mythical Yamato Hime, who is credited with founding the shrine.  There are also various royal princesses are noted as either having served or as having been made ineligible due to their indiscretions. However, those earlier mentions rarely go into the detail we see here —starting with the abstinence hall, where the would-be Shrine Princess must purify herself prior to approaching the shrine, a process that took some time.  Certainly we first really see this put into action with Ohoku, and from that time the position of Saiguu or Saiou at Ise does appear to have been regularly filled.  That Ohoku was actually the first "Saiguu" shrine princess appears to be confirmed by the "Fusou Ryakki", which states that the first Saiou was appointed when then Prince Ohoama, in the midst of the Jinshin war, made a prayer to Ise and offered the royal princess Ohoku no Himemiko in exchange for victory.  In fact, a lot of the focus on Ise seems to stem from its apparent involvement, at the behest of either Ohoama or his consort, Uno no Sarara Hime, in the conflict. The following year we are told that the Royal Princesses Towochi and Abe proceeded to Ise Shrine as well, though presumably just for a brief visit.  Towochi, you may recall, was Ohoama's daughter who had been married to Ohotomo, aka Koubun Tennou, whom Ohoama had defeated to take the throne.  Abe was a daughter of Naka no Oe, half-sister to Ohoama's queen, Uno, and would eventually go on to marry the Crown Prince, Kusakabe.  That gives you some idea of the position of those were going to the shrine. Princess Towochi herself would fall ill a few years later in 678.  In fact, it was just as the sovereign himself was preparing to go pay a visit to the abstinence palace, perhaps so that he could also head out to Ise.  The court had a divination to figure out when he would leave, officers had cleared the roads, and the public functionaries were in a line of procession when word came that Princess Towochi, suddenly took ill and died within the palace.  This stopped everything in its tracks, and in that year there was no sacrifice made to the kami of heaven and earth.  I suspect that this was in part due to mourning and in part due to the pollution more generally associated with death. Two weeks later, she was buried at Akaho, and Ohoama raised a lament for her. Later, in 686, we are told that the Royal Princess Taki, the Princess Yamashiro no Hime, and the Lady Ishikawa were all sent to Ise Shrine, though Princess Taki returned in less than a fortnight. Why all this focus on Ise?  Remember that the Chronicles were begun in this era, and so the "truth" they would tell would be the truth that Ohoama and his immediate successors orchestrated. The focus on Amaterasu, her shrine at Ise, and the role of the sovereign as Heavenly Descendant was thus part of the overarching narrative that the Chroniclers tried to promote.  Still, hints that the focus on Ise shrine may have been something largely created in this era, however, are scattered throughout the existing literature, despite the Chroniclers' best efforts. For one thing, it is fairly clear that early on, the focus in the Chronicles is on  Mt. Miwa and the deity  Ohomononushi, rather than Amaterasu.  We also see the fingerprints of deities like Takami no Musubi, who in one story is the one who is actually responsible for sending the Heavenly Grandchild down to earth in the first place. It also seems telling that Amaterasu is not mentioned in earlier court rituals.  Worship of Amaterasu by the royal family takes place at Ise shrine.  Meanwhile, there are various rituals preserved within the traditions of the palace that include many other, seemingly older deities. I have also noted in the past how Ise shrine isn't even the primary shrine of Ise no Kuni.  In fact, that is claimed by Tsubaki shrine, the shrine to Saruta Hiko no Ohokami, with a separate shrine to Ame no Uzume, who are both said to have met the heavenly grandchild on his descent. None of this is to say that Ise Jingu was brand new at the time of the Chronicles' writing —there does seem to have been a shrine on that spot for some time, though even the Chronicles suggest that it might have been moved from a shrine originally housed in the Nara basin.  It is also possible, and even likely, that the rise of Ise and Amaterasu coincided with other trends at the time.  Even if the Sun Goddess had not always been centered in Yamato ritual, she was not a new deity, and it may have been the case that her prominence, and that of her shrine in Ise had been growing in prominence before this time, and so the court was now adopting that popularity for themselves.  Of course, Ohoama and Uno don't exactly spell out what they were attempting to achieve, beyond the unification of the archipelago, more broadly.  How, exactly, their focus on Ise Shrine was meant to play into that I don't know that I could fully state, but it certainly seems to have allowed the sovereign to create a new cultic focus for kami worship with a story that touched on regions from Kyushu all the way to the eastern shore of the Kii peninsula. Given the decentralized nature of kami worship, I don't believe it was possible to completely rewrite all of the stories—hence the numerous and conflicting accounts given in the Chronicles.  However, that is also what would have made it easier to hide newly fabricated—or perhaps simply exaggerated—stories in the mix.  And of course, it wasn't necessarily that the Chroniclers were creating things out of whole cloth, but they were able to choose those things that people would remember and what would be lost and forgotten over time.  They had to make the decision, for instance, which story they told was the "main" storyline, and which were listed as coming from "other books", implying a degree of separation from the truth. Through all of this, it certainly seems that propping up the royal family and its lineage was a central focus—even if that lineage was largely something that had recently been created.  As a reminder, we see a lot heavier reliance at this point on royal princes as opposed to other elite families, and an actual or implied reliance, in particular, on the royal family, as that is where Ohoama was consolidating most of the power and authority. Kitayama Shigeo coined the term "Koushin Seiji" to refer to this idea of a consolidated royal—or imperial—family managing the affairs of state.  Literally it is something like "Imperial Family Government".   In Shigeo's concept this was specifically an autocratic authority executed by the sovereign, and those of his immediate family.  Of course, writing in the post-war era, it is more than a little likely that Shigeo and others were looking at the concept of Tennou in the 20th century compared with many other world monarchs.  In that vein, the Asuka and Nara periods do seem to have been one of the rare times—perhaps even the last time—that the sovereigns had such a direct hand in the government and the making and establishment of law and tradition. That said, not everyone ascribes entirely to the idea that Ohoama was a completely autocratic despot—after all, it was clear that there were still plenty of powerful families in the archipelago, and the Ritsuryo state itself was also being strengthened.  Still, it does seem that Ohoama had brought his queen, Uno no Sarara, and his descendants into government.  And they would not only assist him, but continue his work for the next generations, such that even though the histories would not be finished until well after Ohoama's death, they would still show his influence on events. The dedication of the royal family to work as one is perhaps most clearly demonstrated in the events of the 5th lunar month of 679.  It was then that the sovereign, and his family, proceeded to the Yoshino Palace.  Now Ohoama had plenty of offspring—among them 10 sons.  And as long as he was around, there would be a certain amount of civility, but he knew all too well how things could break down after a sovereign's death.  And so he brought them together and he made them enter into a pact, which we know as the Yoshino Covenant, or Yoshino no Meiyaku.  Besides Ohoama himself, there were several others in attendance, presumably those who might stand to one day inherit the realm.  These included his partner and queen, Uno no Sarara Hime, as well as her son, Prince Kusakabe, who would be named Crown Prince, only a couple of years later.  It also included the Royal princes Ohotsu, Takechi, Kawashima, Osakabe, and Shiki.  All of these individuals were made to swear an oath to support each other, even though they were all from different mothers, and they agreed. But so what?  Why does it matter?  It is all well and good that Ohoama brought them together for a bit of kumbaya in his old digs away from the capital, but was there anything really to this covenant. This covenant is significant in several ways.  First off, it is clear that Ohoama was pulling in his family and trying to ensure they were onboard with what he was doing and what was planned.  Furthermore, it set out a clear line of succession, something that had not really been done up to this point. We have ideas on what would have made a candidate eligible, but other than naming a particular crown prince there hasn't exactly been any clear process or rules of precedence for who would assume the throne.  Here, though, we have a list that appears to be in order of precedence, since it otherwise may not seem to make sense, at least from a modern perspective. A key clue in the Chronicles is often the order of the names.  The most important or highest ranking person is usually given first, and then names are typically given in descending order of precedence.  There are clues that this is the case, but it becomes even more stark when we actually see reference to an individual's court rank or the size of their fief.  Since this period brings about court rank even for royal princes, we have some of that, at least in later records.  As such, there is the idea that this order was actually providing for a line of succession.   As I mentioned, up to this point, the contest for the throne was a toss up with each monarch's death.  Claims from competing princes were often considered equally valid until one proved their claim through a political or military victory.  Ohoama appears to have been trying to add greater structure to this.  Specifically, we see that Uno no Sarara's son, Kusakabe, is given pride of place.  In fact, throughout the Chronicle it is typical that we see the Chroniclers designate a queen—a Kougou—that is considered the primary wife.  This queen is almost always found to be the descendant of previous royalty, granting their child a doubly royal lineage, through both the maternal and paternal lines.   There has been plenty of reason to doubt that this was actually the case, and it often seems like the Chroniclers stretched things more than a bit to make it all work out.  However, now we are almost more concerned with the very *truth* that the Chroniclers were attempting to burn into the social consciousness rather than the historical facts, because that gives us direct insight into how the court of the day viewed succession and legitimacy.And that does lead to another possible thought:  since the Chroniclers knew how things turned out it is possible that they were the ones ensuring that the order was as we have it.  So we cannot definitively say that this exactly mirrors's Ohoama's idea, but it certainly seems in line with his history and intentions and helps set the stage for us, at least, regarding what would later transpire in regards to succession.. Getting back to the covenant, as I noted, the first person listed, after Ohoama and Uno no Sarara Hime, is Prince Kusakabe.  He would be about 17 or 18 years old at this time, which is probably why he wasn't formally named Crown Prince until a couple of years later.  He isn't the eldest son, however.  Rather he was the second son.  Ohoama's eldest son, Prince Takechi, was actually third in line. Takechihad been with his father helping to lead the troops during the Jinshin War. While he was some 8 years senior to Kusakabe, he was nonetheless a son of Amago no Musume, one of Ohoama's consorts from a powerful clan, but not a royal princess like Uno no Sarara, Kusakabe's mother. Between Kusakabe and Takechi, in the second place spot for succession, was actually Prince Ohotsu, whom we also mentioned during the Jinshin War.  Ohotsu was likely 16-17 years old around this time.  While he was the third eldest child, he, like Kusakabe, was the son of a Royal Princess, Princess Ota, daughter of Naka no Oe, giving him greater bonafides than Takechi, apparently. So, in the top three slots, we have: Ohoama's eldest son by a royal mother, Ohoama's second eldest son by a royal mother, and finally Ohoama's eldest son by a non-royal mother. Fourth in line, and the 4th eldest, presumably, though I don't know that we have an actual age for him, is Prince Wosakabe.  He likely wasn't too young, however, as he had been given the task, previously, to polish the divine treasures in Isonokami's storehouse. It would appear that six of Ohoama's other sons didn't even get a mention.  That includes Princes Naga and Yuge, born to another daughter of Naka no Ohoe, Ohoye no Himemiko.  Then there is Prince Toneri, son of Royal Princess Nittabe, not to be confused with Royal Prince Nittabe, Ohoama's son by way of a daughter of Fujiwara no Kamatari.  Finally there was Royal Prince Hodzumi, a maternal grandson of Soga no Akaye, and Prince Shiki, a full brother to Prince Wosakabe. Prince Toneri is particularly conspicuous in his absence.  We know that he held the 5th rank, and two positions in government—that of Nagon, or Councillor, as well as the Minister of the Household, our Kunaikyou.  This may be because he was not doing so well.  We aren't told the story until the following year, on the 2nd day of the 7th lunar month of 680, when we are told that Prince Toneri took ill and was on the point of death.  His half-brother, Prince Takechi, went to check on him, and a day later Toneri passed away.  The way these are written it would be easy to believe that it all happened in a pretty short timeframe, but it is also just as likely that illness lingered, especially without modern medicine.  So it is possible that Prince Toneri was too sick at the time of the original covenant, though there could be some other reason we weren't told. This doesn't necessarily hold for all of the others, though.  For instance, we have the Princes Naga and Yuge mentioned in 693, well over a decade later, being granted the 2nd Broader Pure Rank at the same time that Prince Takechi is granted the 1st Broader Pure Rank.  So we can at least see that they were ranked below Takechi.   Similarly we see Prince Hodzumi likewise attained 2nd Broader Pure Rank at some point, and was still around to have his own fief and to receive houses to it in the following reign.  Hozumi even ranked above some of the others were in Yoshino, and yet was not present. It is possible that the princes not mentioned, assuming they had not met with an untimely end that was not mentioned in the record somewhere, could have been too young or too junior at the time of the meeting.  After all, when we look at the known ages of those who were there, we see that Prince Takechi may have been 25 years old, but Prince Kusakabe and Prince Otsu were just under 20, and it is unclear if others were older or younger than they were. There are two other princes who were part of the covenant who were not, perhaps surprisingly, sons of Ohoama.  Rather they were his nephews, sons of Ohoama's brother, Naka no Ohoe.  They were the princes Kawashima and Shiki. Kawashima is mentioned several times throughout the record.  Kawashima's mother was from a high ranking noble family, but given that Kawashima was married to his cousin, one of Ohoama's daughters, that may have brought him closer to the family.  He was about 22 years old at the time, too.  We see him often teaming up with Prince Osakabe on various projects, including the project to compile together the history of the royal household.  In fact, Prince Kawashima always precedes Prince Osakabe when they are mentioned together.  That said, we have evidence of Kawashima only being awarded up to 3rd Greater Pure rank, below even that of some who were not present, such as Prince Hodzumi.  His importance and impact, however, is noted through his numerous appearances in the record. In contrast, Prince Shiki has almost no mentions in the record.  It doesn't help that there are two Princes Shiki, one born to Naka no Ohoye and one born to Ohoama.  Their names are spelled differently, however, and although the first character of "Shiki" used in the Yoshino record matches neither name, the second character suggests that this was the son of Naka no Ohoye and not the Shiki that was brother to Prince Osakabe—though given that one followed the other in the record, there may have been some confusion on this point. And with all of that we have our apparent line of succession, as well as an idea of who the movers and shakers might be within the royal family.  From Ohoama and Uno no Sarara, we have Princes Kusakabe, Ohotsu, Takechi, Kawashima, Osakabe, and Shiki.  Six princes, four directly descended from the current sovereign, Ohoama, and two from the Naka no Ohoe lineage. Obviously, promoting the idea of a strictly patrilineal succession of father to son would have caused some problems for Ohoama's own legitimacy, not that anyone was going to gainsay him while he was on the throne.  However, with Kusakabe they seem to have established that in a de facto format, at least.  Furthermore it provided a blueprint for succession might fall to the other lines should the main line not work out.  This put Prince Ohotsu as next in line, should anything happen to Kusakabe, followed by Takechi.  That Kawashima may have had a shot over Osakabe and then Shiki is interesting as it suggests that it wasn't strictly about who descended from whom. We'll have to wait for Ohoama's death before we can fully appreciate how well this worked, of course.  Throughout history, agreements and covenants amongst powerful interests are often only as permanent as long as all of the interests remain aligned with one another, whether through mutual benefit or threat of consequences.  Once the power shifts, as it always does, those promises and treaties are almost always up for renegotiation, unless they are supported by some higher authority, whatever that might be. Following the royal family's off-site, they returned to the palace in Asuka.  There they had a formal ceremony in the Great Hall, the Ohodono, where the six princes all demonstrated their allegiance and paid respects to Ohoama.  Given the timing of this event, one can likely assume that it was a kind of public acknowledgement of the covenant and the agreement that they would all be working together as a united front on the project of the government. And with that, I think we can bring it to  a close for now.  There is plenty more about this reign to discuss before we move on, but we'll get there. Until then, if you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  

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This episode we start to get more into the material culture of the period with court fashion, as we look at the court robes that went along with the updated court ranks.  Granted, we only have a few resources, but from those it does seem like we can construct at least a plausible idea of what the court may have looked like at this time. For more discussion, check out the blogpost:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-137   Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Episode 137:  Courtly Fashion. In the New Year's ceremony, the court officials lined up in front of the Kiyomihara Palace, arranged by their relative court rank, dressed in their assigned court robes.  The effect was impressive—the rows of officials painting the courtyard like the bands of color in a rainbow, albeit one with only a couple of hues.  The fact that they were all wearing the same style of dress and black, stiffened gauze hats only added to the effect.  The individual officers were all but lost in what was, at least in outward form, a single, homogenous machine of government, just waiting for the command of their monarch to attend to the important matters of state. We are covering the reign of Ohoama no Ohokimi, aka Ama no Nunahara oki no mabito no Sumera no Mikoto, aka Temmu Tennou.  Last episode we went over the changes he had made to the family titles—the kabane—as well as to the courtly rank system.  For the former, he had consolidated the myriad kabane and traditional titles across Yamato into a series of eight—the Yakusa no Kabane.   These were, from highest to lowest: Mabito, Asomi, Sukune, Imiki, Michinoshi, Omi, Muraji, and Inaki.  By the way, you might notice that "Mabito" actually occurs in Ohoama's posthumous name:  Ama no Nunahara oki no mabito, which lends more credence to the idea that that kabane was for those with a special connection to the royal lineage. Besides simplifying and restructuring the kabane, Ohoama also reformed the court rank system.  He divided the Princely ranks into two categories:  Myou, or Bright, and Jou, or Pure.  For the court nobles the categories were:                Shou – Upright                Jiki – Straight                Gon – Diligent                Mu – Earnest                Tsui – Pursue                Shin – Advancement Each category was further divided into four grades (except for the very first princely category, Myou, which was only two).  Each grade was then further divided into large, "dai", or broad, "kou". And this brings us to our topic today. Along with this new rank system, Ohoama's administration also instituted a new set of court sumptuary laws. Some are vague in the record—we can just make assumptions for what is going on based on what we know from later fashion choices.  Others are a little more clear.  We'll take a look at those sumptuary laws, particularly those that were directly associated with the new court rank system, but we'll also look at the clothing styles more generally. To start with, let's talk about what we know about clothing in the archipelago in general.  Unfortunately, fabric doesn't tend to survive very well in the generally acidic soils of the Japanese archipelago.  Cloth tends to break down pretty quickly.  That said, we have fragments here and there and impressions in pottery, so we have some idea that there was some kind of woven fabric from which to make clothing out of. And before I go too far I want to give a shout out to the amazing people at the Kyoto Costume Museum.  They have a tremendous website and I will link to it in the comments.  While there may be some debate over particular interpretations of historical clothing, it is an excellent resource to get a feel for what we know of the fashion of the various periods.  I'll also plug our own website, SengokuDaimyo.com, which has a "Clothing and Accessory" section that, while more geared towards Heian and later periods, may still be of some use in looking up particular terms and getting to know the clothing and outfits. At the farthest reaches of pre-history, we really don't have a lot of information for clothing.  There is evidence of woven goods in the Jomon period, and we have Yayoi burials with bits of cloth here and there, but these are all scraps.  So at best we have some conjecture as to what people were wearing, and possibly some ability to look across the Korean peninsula and see what people had, there. There are scant to no reliable records from early on in Japanese history, and most of those don't really do a great job of describing the clothing.  Even where we do get something, like the Weizhi, one has to wonder given how they tended to crib notes from other entries. There is at least one picture scroll of interest: Portraits of Periodical Offering of Liang, or Liáng -Zhígòngtú.  It is said to have been painted by Xiao Yi in the early 6th century, and while the original no longer exists there is an 11th century copy from the time of the Song Dynasty.  The scroll shows  various ambassadors to the Liang court, including one from Wa.  The Wa ambassador is shown with what appears to be a wide piece of cloth around his hips and legs, tied in front.  His lower legs are covered in what we might call kyahan today: a rather simple wrap around leg from below the knee to the foot.  He has another, blue piece of cloth around his shoulders, almost like a shawl, and it is also tied in front.  Then there is a cloth wrapped and tied around his head. It's hard to know how much of this depiction is accurate and how much the artist was drawing on memory and descriptions from things like the Weizhi or Wei Chronicles, which stated that the Wa people wore wide cloths wrapped around and seamlessly tied As such, it may be more helpful to look at depictions actually from the archipelago: specifically, some of the human-figured haniwa, those clay cylinders and statues that adorned the burial mounds which gave the kofun period its name.  Some of these haniwa are fairly detailed, and we can see ties, collars, and similar features of clothing. These haniwa primarily seem to cluster towards the end of the Kofun period, in the later 6th century, so it is hard to say how much they can be used for earlier periods, though that is exactly what you will typically see for periods where we have little to know evidence.  I'm also not sure how regional certain fashions might have been, and we could very much be suffering from survivorship bias—that is we only know what survived and assume that was everything, or even the majority. Still, it is something. Much of what we see in these figures is some kind of upper garment that has relatively tight sleeves, like a modern shirt or jacket might have, with the front pieces overlapping create a V-shaped neckline.  The garment hem often hangs down to just above the knee, flaring out away from the body, and it's held closed with ties and some kind of belt, possibly leather in some cases, and in others it looks like a tied loop of cloth.  There is evidence of a kind of trouser, with two legs, and we see ties around the knee.  In some cases, they even have small bells hanging from the ties.  Presumably the trousers might have ties up towards the waist, but we cannot see that in the examples we have. We also see individuals who have no evidence of any kind of bifurcated lower garment.  That may indicate an underskirt of some kind, or possibly what's called a "mo"—but it could also be just a simplification for stability, since a haniwa has a cylindrical base anyway.  It is not always obvious when you are looking at a haniwa figure whether it depicts a man or woman: in some cases there are two dots on the chest that seem to make it obvious, but the haniwa do come from different artisans in different regions, so there is a lot of variability. We also see evidence of what seem to be decorative sashes that are worn across the body, though not in all cases.  There are various types of headgear and hairstyles.  Wide-brimmed and domed hats are not uncommon, and we also see combs and elaborate hairstyles depicted.  On some occasions we can even see that they had closed toed shoes.  For accessories, we see haniwa wearing jewelry, including necklaces (worn by both men and women), bracelets, and earrings.  In terms of actual human jewelry, early shell bracelets demonstrate trade routes, and the distinctive magatama, or comma shaped jewel, can be found in the archipelago and on the Korean peninsula, where it is known as "gogok".  Based on lines or even colored pigment on the haniwa, it appears that many of these outfits were actually quite heavily decorated.  Paint on the outfits is sometimes also placed on the face, suggesting that they either painted or tattooed themselves, something mentioned in the Wei Chronicles.  We also have archaeological examples of dyed cloth, so it is interesting that people are often depicted in undyed clothing.  There is one haniwa that I find particularly interesting, because they appear to be wearing more of a round-necked garment, and they have a hat that is reminiscent of the phrygian cap: a conical cap with the top bent forward.  These are traits common to some of the Sogdians and other Persian merchants along the silk road, raising the possibility that it is meant to depict a foreigner, though it is also possible that it was just another local style. If we compare this to the continent, we can see some immediate difference.  In the contemporaneous Sui dynasty, we can see long flowing robes, with large sleeves for men and women.  The shoes often had an upturned placket that appears to have been useful to prevent one from tripping on long, flowing garments.  Many of these outfits were also of the v-neck variety, with two overlapping pieces, though it is often shown held together with a fabric belt that is tied in front.  The hats appear to either be a kind of loose piece of fabric, often described as a turban, wrapped around the head, the ends where it ties together trailing behind, or black lacquered crowns—though there were also some fairly elaborate pieces for the sovereign. As Yamato started to import continental philosophy, governance, and religion, they would also start to pick up on continental fashion.  This seems particularly true as they adopted the continental concept of "cap rank" or "kan-i". Let's go over what we know about this system, from its first mention in the Chronicles up to where we are in Ohoama's reign. As a caveat, there is a lot we don't know about the details of these garments, but we can make some guesses. The first twelve cap-ranks, theoretically established in 603, are somewhat questionable in their historicity, as are so many things related to Shotoku Taishi.  And their names are clearly based on Confucian values:  Virtue, Humanity, Propriety, Faith, Justice, and Wisdom, or Toku, Nin, Rei, Shin, Gi, and Chi.  The five values and then just "Virtue", itself. The existence of this system does seem to be confirmed by the Sui Shu, the Book of Sui, which includes a note in the section on the country of Wa that they used a 12 rank system based on the Confucian values, but those values were given in the traditional Confucian order vice the order given in the Nihon Shoki.   The rank system of the contemporaneous Sui and Tang dynasties was different from these 12 ranks, suggesting that the Yamato system either came from older dynasties—perhaps from works on the Han dynasty or the Northern and Southern Dynasty, periods—or they got it from their neighbors, Baekje, Silla, and Goguryeo.  There does seem to be a common thread, though, that court rank was identifiable in one's clothes. As for the caps themselves, what did they look like?  One would assume that the Yamato court just adopted a continental style cap, and yet, which one? It isn't fully described, and there are a number of types of headwear that we see in the various continental courts. Given that, we aren't entirely sure exactly what it looked like, but we do have a couple of sources that we can look at and use to make some assumptions.  These sources l ead us to the idea of a round, colored cap made of fabric, around the brim that was probably the fabric or image prescribed for that rank.  It is also often depicted with a bulbous top, likely for the wearer's hair, and may have been tied to their top knot.     Our main source for this is the Tenjukoku Mandala Embroidery (Tenjukoku-mandara-shuuchou) at Chuuguuji temple, which was a temple built for the mother of Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi.    This embroidery was created in 622, so 19 years after the 12 ranks would have been implemented. It depicts individuals in round-necked jackets that appear to have a part straight down the center.  Beneath the jacket one can see a pleated hem, possibly something like a "hirami", a wrapped skirt that is still found in some ceremonial imperial robes.  It strikes me that this could also be the hem of something like the hanpi, which was kind of like a vest with a pleated lower edge.  Below that we see trousers—hakama—with a red colored hem—at least on one figure that we can see.  He also appears to be wearing a kind of slipper-like shoe. As for the women, there are a few that appear to be in the mandala, but it is hard to say for certain as the embroidery has been damaged over the years. That said, from what we can tell, women probably would have worn something similar to the men in terms of the jacket and the pleated under-skirt, but then, instead of hakama, we see a pleated full-length skirt, or mo.  We also don't have a lot of evidence for them wearing hats or anything like that. The round necked jacket is interesting as it appears to be similar to the hou that was common from northern China across the Silk Road, especially amongst foreigners.  This garment  came to displace the traditional robes of the Tang court and would become the basis for much of the court clothing from that period, onwards.  The round necked garment had central panels that overlapped, and small ties or fastenings at either side of the neck to allow for an entirely enclosed neckline.  This was more intricate than just two, straight collars, and so may have taken time to adopt, fully. The next change to the cap-rank system was made in 647, two years into the Taika Reform.  The ranks then were more directly named for the caps, or crowns—kanmuri—and their materials and colors.  The ranks translate to Woven, Embroidered, Purple, Brocade, Blue, Black, and finally "Establish Valor" for the entry level rank. The system gets updated two years later, but only slightly.  We still see a reference to Woven stuff, Embroidery, and Purple, but then the next several ranks change to Flower, Mountain, and Tiger—or possibly Kingfisher.  These were a little more removed from the cap color and material, and may have had something to do with designs that were meant to be embroidered on the cap or on the robes in some way, though that is just speculation based on later Ming and Qing court outfits. Naka no Ohoye then updates it again in 664, but again only a little.  He seems to add back in the "brocade" category, swapping out the "flower", and otherwise just adds extra grades within each category to expand to 26 total rank grades. And that brings us to the reforms of 685, mentioned last episode.  This new system was built around what appear to be moral exhortations—Upright, Straight, Diligent, Earnest, etc.  And that is great and all, but how does that match up with the official robes? What color goes with each rank category?  Fortunately, this time around, the Chronicle lays it out for us pretty clearly. First off we are given the color red for the Princely ranks—not purple as one might have thought.  Specifically, it is "Vermillion Flower", hanezu-iro, which Bentley translates as the color of the "Oriental bush" or salmon.  In the blogpost we'll link to a table of colors that the founder of Sengoku Daimyo, Anthony Bryant, had put together, with some explanation of how to apply it.  I would note that there is often no way to know exactly what a given color was like or what shades were considered an acceptable range.  Everything was hand-dyed, and leaving fabric in the dye a little longer, changing the proportions, or just fading over time could create slightly different variants in the hue, but we think we can get pretty close. From there we have the six "common" ranks for the nobility.  Starting with the first rank, Upright, we have "Dark Purple".  Then we have "Light Purple".  This pattern continues with Dark and Light Green and then Dark and Light Grape or Lilac.  Purple in this case is Murasaki, and green here is specifically Midori, which is more specifically green than the larger category of "Aoi", which covers a spectrum of blue to green.  The grape or lilac is specifically "suou", and based on Bentley's colors it would be a kind of purple or violet. The idea is that the official court outfits for each rank would be the proper color.  And yes, that means if you get promoted in rank, your first paycheck—or rice stipend—is probably going to pay for a new set of official clothes.  Fortunately for the existing court nobles at the time, in the last month of 685, the Queen provided court clothing for 55 Princes and Ministers, so they could all look the part. And the look at court was important.  In fact, several of the edicts from this time focus specifically on who was allowed—or expected—to wear what.  For instance, in the 4th month of 681, they established 92 articles of the law code, and among those were various sumptuary laws—that is to say, laws as to what you could wear.  We are told that they applied to everyone from Princes of the blood down to the common person, and it regulated the wearing of precious metals, pearls, and jewels; the type of fabric one could use, whether purple, brocade, embroidery, or fine silks; and it also regulated woollen carpets, caps, belts, and the colors of various things. And here I'd like to pause and give some brief thought to how this played into the goals of the court, generally, which is to say the goal of creating and establishing this new system of governance in the cultural psyche of the people of the archipelago.  From the continental style palaces, to the temples, and right down to the clothing that people were wearing, this was all orchestrated, consciously or otherwise, to emphasize and even normalize the changes that were being introduced.  When everything around you is conforming to the new rules, it makes it quite easy for others to get on board. The court had surrounded themselves with monumental architecture that was designed along continental models and could best be explained through continental reasoning.  Even if they weren't Confucian or Daoist, those lines of reasoning ran through the various cultural and material changes that they were taking up.  Sure, they put their own stamp on it, but at the same time, when everything is right in front of you, it would become that much harder to deny or push back against it. And when you participated in the important rituals of the state, the clothing itself became a part of the pageantry.  It reinforced the notion that this was something new and different, and yet also emphasized that pushing against it would be going against the majority.  So court uniforms were another arm of the state's propaganda machine, all designed to reinforce the idea that the heavenly sovereign—the Tennou—was the right and just center of political life and deserving of their position.  Getting back to the sumptuary laws and rank based regulations: It is unfortunate that the record in the Nihon Shoki doesn't tell us exactly how things were regulated, only that they were, at least in some cases.  So for anything more we can only make assumptions based on later rules and traditions.  A few things we can see right away, though.  First is the restriction of the color purple.  Much as in Europe and elsewhere in the world, getting a dark purple was something that was not as easy as one might think, and so it tended to be an expensive dye and thus it would be restricted to the upper classes—in this case the princely and ministerial rank, no doubt.  Similarly brocade and fine silks were also expensive items that were likely restricted to people of a particular social station for that reason. The mention of woolen rugs is particularly intriguing.  Bentley translates this as woven mattresses, but I think that woolen rugs makes sense, as we do have examples of woolen "rugs" in Japan in at least the 8th century, stored in the famous Shousouin repository at Toudaiji temple, in Nara.  These are all imported from the continent and are actually made of felt, rather than woven.  As an imported item, out of a material that you could not get in the archipelago, due to a notable lack of sheep, they would have no doubt been expensive. The funny thing is that the carpets in the Shousouin may not have been meant as carpets.  For the most part they are of a similar size and rectangular shape, and one could see how they may have been used as sleeping mattresses or floor coverings.  However, there is some conjecture that they came from the Silk Road and may have been originally meant as felt doors for the tents used by the nomadic steppe peoples.  This is only conjecture, as I do not believe any of these rugs have survived in the lands where they would have been made, but given the size and shape and the modern yurt, it is not hard to see how that may have been the case.  Either way, I tend to trust that this could very well have meant woolen rugs, as Aston and the kanji themselves suggest, though I would understand if there was confusion or if it meant something else as wool was not exactly common in the archipelago at that time or in the centuries following. The last section of the regulations talks about the use of caps and belts.  The caps here were probably of continental origin:  The kanmuri, or official cap of state of the court nobles, or the more relaxed eboshi—though at this time, they were no doubt closely related. In fact, a year later, we have the most specific mention to-date of what people were actually wearing on their heads: there is a mention of men tying up their hair and wearing caps of varnished gauze.  Earlier caps related to the cap rank system are often thought to be something like a simple hemisphere  that was placed upon the head, with a bulbous top where the wearer's hair could be pulled up as in a bun. The kanmuri seems to have evolved from the soft black headcloth that was worn on the continent, which would have tied around the head, leaving two ends hanging down behind.  Hairstyles of the time often meant that men had a small bun or similar gathering of hair towards the back of their head, and tying a cloth around the head gave the effect of a small bump.  This is probably what we see in depictions of the early caps of state.  Sometimes this topknot could be covered with a small crown or other decoration, or wrapped with a cloth, often referred to as a "Tokin" in Japanese.  But over time we see the development of hardened forms to be worn under a hat to provide the appropriate silhouette, whether or not you actually had a topknot (possibly helpful for gentlemen suffering from hair loss).  And then the hat becomes less of a piece of cloth and more just a hat of black, lacquered gauze made on a form, which was much easier to wear.  At this point in the Chronicle, the cap was likely still somewhat malleable, and would made to tie or be pinned to that bun or queue of hair.  This explains the mention of men wearing their hair up.  This pin would become important for several different types of headgear, but ties were also used for those who did not have hair to hold the hat on properly. Two years after the edict on hats, we get another edict on clothing, further suggesting that the court were wearing Tang inspired clothing.  In 685 we see that individuals are given leave to wear their outer robe either open or tied closed. This is a clue that this outer robe might something akin to the round-necked hou that we see in the Tenjukoku Mandala, where the neck seems to close with a small tie or button.  However, we do see some examples, later, of v-necked garments with a tie in the center of the neck, so that may be the reference..  Opening the collar of the formal robes was somewhat akin to loosening a necktie, or unbuttoning the top button of a shirt.  It provided a more relaxed and comfortable feeling.  It could also be a boon in the warm days of summer.  Leaving it closed could create a more formal appearance. The courtiers also had the option of whether or not to wear the "Susotsuki", which Bentley translates as "skirt-band".  I believe this refers to the nai'i, or inner garment.  This would often have a pleated hem—a suso or ran—which would show below the main robe as just a slight hem.  Again, this is something that many would dispense with in the summer, or just when dressing a bit more casually, but it was required at court, as well as making sure that the tassles were tied so that they hung down.  This was the uniform of the court.  We are also told that they would have trousers that could be tied up, which sounds like later sashinuki, though it may have referred to something slightly different.  We are also given some regulations specifically for women, such as the fact that women over 40 years of age were allowed the discretion on whether or not to tie up their hair, as well as whether they would ride horses astride or side-saddle.  Presumably, younger women did not get a choice in the matter.  Female shrine attendants and functionaries were likewise given some leeway with their hairstyles. A year later, in 686, they do seem to have relaxed the hairstyles a bit more: women were allowed to let their hair down to their backs as they had before, so it seems that, for at least a couple of years, women under the age of 40 were expected to wear their hair tied up in one fashion or another. In that same edict, men were then allowed to wear "habakimo".  Aston translates this as "leggings" while Bentley suggests it is a "waist skirt".  There are an example of extant habakimo in the Shousouin, once again, and they appear to be wrappings for the lower leg.  It actually seems very closely related to the "kyahan" depicted all the way back in the 6th century painting of the Wo ambassador to Liang. Even though these edicts give a lot more references to clothing, there is still plenty that is missing.  It isn't like the Chroniclers were giving a red carpet style stitch-by-stitch critique of what was being worn at court.  Fortunately, there is a rather remarkable archaeological discovery from about this time. Takamatsuzuka is a kofun, or ancient burial mound, found in Asuka and dated to the late 7th or early 8th century.  Compared to the keyhole shaped tombs of previous centuries, this tomb is quite simple: a two-tiered circular tomb nestled in the quiet hills.  What makes it remarkable is that the inside of the stone burial chamber was elaborately painted.  There are depictions of the four guardian animals, as well as the sun and the moon, as well as common constellations.  More importantly, though, are the intricate pictures of men and women dressed in elaborate clothing. The burial chamber of Takamatsuzuka is rectangular in shape.  There are images on the four vertical sides as well as on the ceiling.  The chamber is oriented north-south, with genbu, the black tortoise, on the north wall and presumably Suzaku, the vermillion bird, on the south wall—though that had been broken at some point and it is hard to make out exactly what is there. The east and west walls are about three times as long as the north and south walls.  In the center of each is a guardian animal—byakko, the white tiger, on the west wall and seiryuu, the blue—or green—dragon on the east.  All of these images are faded, and since opening of the tomb have faded even more, so while photos can help, it may require a bit more investigation and some extrapolation to understand all of what we are looking at. On the northern side of both the east and west wall we see groups of four women.  We can make out green, yellow, and red or vermillion outer robes with thin fabric belt sashes, or obi, tied loosely and low around the waist.  There is another, lightly colored—possibly white, cream or pink—that is so faded it is hard to make out, and I don't know if that is the original color.  These are v-necked robes, with what appear to be ties at the bottom of the "v".  Around the belt-sash we see a strip of white peaking out from between the two sides of the robe—most likely showing the lining on an edge that has turned back slightly.  The cuffs of the robe are folded back, showing a contrasting color—either the sleeves of an underrobe or a lining of some kind.  Below the outer robe is a white, pleated hem—possibly a hirami or similar, though where we can make it out, it seems to be the same or similar color as the sleeves.  Under all of that, they then have a relatively simple mo, or pleated skirt.  The ones in the foreground are vertically striped in alternating white, green, red, and blue stripes.  There is one that may just be red and blue stripes, but I'm not sure.  In the background we see a dark blue—and possibly a dark green—mo.  At the base of each mo is a pleated fringe that appears to be connected to the bottom of the skirt.  The toe of a shoe seems to peek out from underneath in at least one instance.  They don't have any obvious hair ornaments, and their hair appears to be swept back and tied in such a way that it actually comes back up in the back, slightly.  They appear to be holding fans and something that might be a fly swatter—a pole with what looks like tassels on the end. In comparison, at the southern end of the tomb we have two groups of men.  These are much more damaged and harder to make out clearly.  They have robes of green, yellow, grey, blue, and what looks like dark blue, purple, or even black.  The neckline appears to be a v-necked, but tied closed, similar to what we see on the women.  We also see a contrasting color at the cuff, where it looks like the sleeves have turned back, slightly.  They have belt-sashes similar to the women, made of contrasting fabric to the robe itself.  Below that we see white trousers, or hakama, and shallow, black shoes.  On some of the others it is suggested that maybe they have a kind of woven sandal, but that is hard to make out in the current image.  On their heads are hats or headgear of black, stiffened—probably lacquered—gauze.  They have a bump in the back, which is probably the wearer's hair, and there is evidence of small ties on top and larger ties in the back, hanging down.  Some interpretations also show a couple with chin straps, as well, or at least a black cord that goes down to the chin.  They carry a variety of implements, suggesting they are attendants, with an umbrella, a folding chair, a pouch worn around the neck, a pole or cane of some kind, and a bag with some kind of long thing—possibly a sword or similar. The tomb was originally found by farmers in 1962, but wasn't fully examined until 1970, with an excavation starting in 1972.  The stone at the entryway was broken, probably from graverobbers, who are thought to have looted the tomb in the Kamakura period.  Fortunately, along with the bones of the deceased and a few scattered grave goods that the robbers must have missed, the murals also survived, and somehow they remained largely intact through the centuries.  They have not been entirely safe, and many of the images are damaged or faded, but you can still make out a remarkable amount of detail, which is extremely helpful in determining what clothing might have looked like at this time—assuming it is depicting local individuals. And there is the rub, since we don't know exactly whom the tomb was for.  Furthermore, in style it has been compared with Goguryeo tombs from the peninsula, much as nearby Kitora kofun is.  Kitora had images as well, but just of the guardian animals and the constellations, not of human figures. There are three theories as to who might have been buried at Takamatsuzuka.  One theory is that it was one of Ohoama's sons.  Prince Osakabe is one theory, based on the time of his death and his age.  Others have suggested Prince Takechi.  Based on the teeth of the deceased, they were probably in their 40s to 60s when they passed away. Some scholars believe that it may be a later, Nara period vassal—possibly, Isonokami no Maro.  That would certainly place it later than the Asuka period. The third theory is that it is the tomb of a member of one of the royal families from the Korean peninsula—possibly someone who had taken up refuge in the archipelago as Silla came to dominate the entire peninsula.  This last theory matches with the fact that Takamatsuzuka appears to be similar to tombs found in Goguryeo, though that could just have to do with where the tomb builders were coming from, or what they had learned. That does bring up the question of the figures in the tomb.  Were they contemporary figures, indicating people and dress of the court at the time, or were they meant to depict people from the continent?  Without any other examples, we may never know, but even if was indicative of continental styles, those were the very styles that Yamato was importing, so it may not matter, in the long run.     One other garment that isn't mentioned here is the hire, a scarf that is typically associated with women.  It is unclear if it has any relationship to the sashes we see in the Kofun period, though there is at least one mention of a woman with a hire during one of the campaigns on the Korean peninsula.  Later we see it depicted as a fairly gauzy piece of silk, that is worn somewhat like a shawl.  It is ubiquitous in Sui and Tang paintings of women, indicating a wide-ranging fashion trend.  The hire is a fairly simple piece of clothing, and yet it creates a very distinctive look which we certainly see, later. Finally, I want to take a moment to acknowledge that almost everything we have discussed here has to do with the elites of society—the nobles of the court.  For most people, working the land, we can assume that they were probably not immediately adopting the latest continental fashions, and they probably weren't dressing in silk very much.  Instead, it is likely that they continued to wear some version of the same outfits we see in the haniwa figures of the kofun period.  This goes along with the fact that even as the elite are moving into palaces built to stand well above the ground, we still have evidence of common people building and living in pit dwellings, as they had been for centuries.  This would eventually change, but overall they stuck around for quite some time.  However, farmers and common people are often ignored by various sources—they aren't often written about, they often aren't shown in paintings or statues, and they did often not get specialized burials.  Nonetheless, they were the most populous group in the archipelago, supporting all of the rest. And with that, I think we will stop for now.  Still plenty more to cover this reign.  We are definitely into the more historical period, where we have more faith in the dates—though we should remember that this is also one of the reigns that our sources were specifically designed to prop up, so we can't necessarily take everything without at least a hint of salt and speculation, even if the dates themselves are more likely to be accurate. Until then, if you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  

The Rectification of Names is a Confucian reinterpretation of the function of language. Confucius is usually portrayed as a stuffy moralist, but there is an intriguing notion implicit in his use of language that borders on the postmodern. Confucius does not merely give definitions of things, but seizes for the philosopher the power to redefine names according to a moral end. Michael Puett, The Path (Talks at Google): https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MfnSTr6-1g4Hans Georg Moeller's Channel: https://www.youtube.com/@carefreewandering

Exploring the boundaries, fringes, and inner workings of civil society, Taru Salmenkari investigates local forms of political agency in China in light of the globalization of political values, practices, and institutions in Global Ideas, Local Adaptations: Chinese Activism and the Will to Make Civil Society (Edward Elgar, 2025). She provides a theoretical framework for globalization, examining new forms of governance emerging with non-governmental organizations (NGOs) and how these have reconfigured social power in China.This topical book outlines how civil society has been promoted globally since the 1980s, as NGOs advance development cooperation, democratization, and neoliberal third-sector service production. Salmenkari studies the outcomes of these processes in China, where civil society promotion met strong localizing forces rising from NGO activists'' own values, governmental regulation, and local society. Evaluating various forms of Chinese self-organizing, she discusses the social omissions of Chinese environmental NGO agendas, Confucian ties in global translations, gay self-organizing, and the idea and practice of Minjian. The book identifies complexities within Chinese civil society and how it navigates academia, global partnerships, social exclusions and alternative values, analyzing how these conflicting positions influence Chinese politics and society. Taru Salmenkari is senior research at the University of Helsinki. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Exploring the boundaries, fringes, and inner workings of civil society, Taru Salmenkari investigates local forms of political agency in China in light of the globalization of political values, practices, and institutions in Global Ideas, Local Adaptations: Chinese Activism and the Will to Make Civil Society (Edward Elgar, 2025). She provides a theoretical framework for globalization, examining new forms of governance emerging with non-governmental organizations (NGOs) and how these have reconfigured social power in China.This topical book outlines how civil society has been promoted globally since the 1980s, as NGOs advance development cooperation, democratization, and neoliberal third-sector service production. Salmenkari studies the outcomes of these processes in China, where civil society promotion met strong localizing forces rising from NGO activists'' own values, governmental regulation, and local society. Evaluating various forms of Chinese self-organizing, she discusses the social omissions of Chinese environmental NGO agendas, Confucian ties in global translations, gay self-organizing, and the idea and practice of Minjian. The book identifies complexities within Chinese civil society and how it navigates academia, global partnerships, social exclusions and alternative values, analyzing how these conflicting positions influence Chinese politics and society. Taru Salmenkari is senior research at the University of Helsinki. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/east-asian-studies

Exploring the boundaries, fringes, and inner workings of civil society, Taru Salmenkari investigates local forms of political agency in China in light of the globalization of political values, practices, and institutions in Global Ideas, Local Adaptations: Chinese Activism and the Will to Make Civil Society (Edward Elgar, 2025). She provides a theoretical framework for globalization, examining new forms of governance emerging with non-governmental organizations (NGOs) and how these have reconfigured social power in China.This topical book outlines how civil society has been promoted globally since the 1980s, as NGOs advance development cooperation, democratization, and neoliberal third-sector service production. Salmenkari studies the outcomes of these processes in China, where civil society promotion met strong localizing forces rising from NGO activists'' own values, governmental regulation, and local society. Evaluating various forms of Chinese self-organizing, she discusses the social omissions of Chinese environmental NGO agendas, Confucian ties in global translations, gay self-organizing, and the idea and practice of Minjian. The book identifies complexities within Chinese civil society and how it navigates academia, global partnerships, social exclusions and alternative values, analyzing how these conflicting positions influence Chinese politics and society. Taru Salmenkari is senior research at the University of Helsinki. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/political-science

Exploring the boundaries, fringes, and inner workings of civil society, Taru Salmenkari investigates local forms of political agency in China in light of the globalization of political values, practices, and institutions in Global Ideas, Local Adaptations: Chinese Activism and the Will to Make Civil Society (Edward Elgar, 2025). She provides a theoretical framework for globalization, examining new forms of governance emerging with non-governmental organizations (NGOs) and how these have reconfigured social power in China.This topical book outlines how civil society has been promoted globally since the 1980s, as NGOs advance development cooperation, democratization, and neoliberal third-sector service production. Salmenkari studies the outcomes of these processes in China, where civil society promotion met strong localizing forces rising from NGO activists'' own values, governmental regulation, and local society. Evaluating various forms of Chinese self-organizing, she discusses the social omissions of Chinese environmental NGO agendas, Confucian ties in global translations, gay self-organizing, and the idea and practice of Minjian. The book identifies complexities within Chinese civil society and how it navigates academia, global partnerships, social exclusions and alternative values, analyzing how these conflicting positions influence Chinese politics and society. Taru Salmenkari is senior research at the University of Helsinki. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/chinese-studies

The Daoist hermit who supposedly lived to 118 years old and profoundly influenced Confucian philosophy.Support the show

It is the first year of a new reign, so come and let's take a look at how it all begins. For more, check out our blog page at: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-135 Rough Transcript   Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 135: Year One The officials of the Ministry of Kami Affairs bustled to and fro as they prepared the ritual grounds and the temporary buildings.  They were carefully erecting the structures, which would only be used for a single festival, and then torn down, but this would be an important festival.  It was the harvest festival, the Niiname-sai, the festival of the first-fruits.  Rice, from the regions of Tamba and Harima, specifically chosen through divination, would be offered to his majesty along with the kami who had blessed the land.  But this time, there was more. After all, this was the first harvest festival of a new reign, and they had orders to make it special.  The ascension ceremony had been held earlier in the year, but in some ways that was just a prelude.  There had been various rituals and ceremonies throughout the year emphasizing that this year was special—even foreign lands were sending envoys to congratulate him on the event.  But this wasn't for them.  This was the sovereign taking part, for the first time, in one of the most important ceremonies of the year.  After all, the feast of first-fruits was the culmination of all that the kami had done, and it emphasized the sovereign's role as both a descendant of heaven and as the preeminent intercessor with the divine spirits of the land. And so they knew, that everything had to be bigger, with even more pomp and circumstance than normal.  This wouldn't just be about the new rice.  This would be a grand ceremony, one that only happened once in a generation, and yet which would echo through the centuries.  As the annual harvest festival, it was an ancient tradition.  But as something new—as the Daijosai—it was something else all together. And it would have to be perfect!   Last episode we talked about the Kiyomihara palace and a little bit about what it was like in the court of Ohoama, aka Temmu Tennou.  After defeating the Afumi court supporting his nephew, Ohotomo, in 672, Ohoama had taken control of the government.  He moved back to Asuka, and into the refurbished Okamoto palace, building a southern exclave known to us today as the Ebinoko enclosure, which held one large building, which may have been a residence or a ceremonial structure—possibly the first “Daigokuden” or ceremonial hall. Ohoama's court built on the ideas that his brother, Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou, had put forth since the Taika era.  This was a continuation of the form of government known as the Ritsuryo system, or Ritsuryo-sei, literally a government of laws and punishments, and Ohoama had taken the reins.  He seems to have taken a much more direct approach to governance compared to some of his predecessors. For instance, the role of the ministerial families was reduced, with Ohoama or various princes—actual or invented relatives of the throne—taking a much more prominent role.  He also expanded access to the central government to those outside of the the Home Provinces.  After all, it was the traditional ministerial families—the Soga, the Nakatomi, and even the Kose—who had been part of the Afumi government that he had just defeated.  Meanwhile, much of his military support had come from the Eastern provinces, though with prominent indications of support from Kibi and Tsukushi as well. This episode we are going to get back to the events documented in the Chronicles, looking just at the first year of Ohoama's reign.  Well, technically it was the second year, with 672 being the first, but this is the first year in which he formally sat on the throne.  There's plenty going on in this year to fill a whole episode: it was the year of Ohoama's formal ascension, and there were numerous festivals, ceremonies, and other activities that seem to be directly related to a fresh, new start.  We will also look at the custom of handing out posthumous ranks, particularly to those who supported Ohoama during the Jinshin no Ran, and how that relates to the various ranks and titles used in Ohoama's court.  We have envoys from three different countries—Tamna, Silla, and Goguryeo—and their interactions with the Dazaifu in Tsukushi.  Finally, we have the first Daijosai, one of the most important ceremonies in any reign. And so, let's get into it.   The year 673 started with a banquet for various princes and ministers, and on the 27th day of the 2nd month, Ohoama formally assumed the throne at what would come to be known as Kiyomihara Palace.  Uno, his consort, who had traveled with him through the mountains from Yoshino to Ise, was made his queen, and their son, Royal Prince Kusakabe, was named Crown Prince.  Two days later they held a ceremony to convey cap-ranks on those deemed worthy. We are then told that on the 17th day of the following month, word came from the governor of Bingo, the far western side of ancient Kibi, today the eastern part of modern Hiroshima.  They had caught a white pheasant in Kameshi and sent it as tribute.  White or albino animals were seen as particularly auspicious signs, and no doubt it was taken as an omen of good fortune for the reign.  In response, the forced labor from Bingo, which households were required to supply to the State, was remitted.  There was also a general amnesty granted throughout the land. That same month we are also told that scribes were brought in to Kawaradera to copy the Issaiko—aka the Tripitaka, or the entirety of the Buddhist canon.  That would include hundreds of scrolls.  This clearly seems to be an act of Buddhist merit-making:  by copying out the scrolls you make merit, which translates to good karma.  That would be another auspicious start to the reign, and we see frequently that rulers would fund sutra copying—or sutra recitations—as well as temples, statues, bells and all other such things to earn Buddhist merit.  As the ruler, this merit didn't just accrue to you, but to the entire state, presumably bringing good fortune and helping to avert disaster. However, it wasn't just the Law of the Buddha that Ohoama was appealing to.  In the following entry, on the14th day of the 4th month, we are told that Princess Ohoki was preparing herself at the saigu, or abstinence palace, in Hatsuse—known as Hase, today, east of modern Sakurai, along the Yonabari river, on the road to Uda.  Ohoki was the sister of Prince Ohotsu.  Her mother was Ohota, the Queen's elder sister, making her a grandchild of Naka no Ohoye as well as the daughter of Ohoama.  Princess Ohoki's time at the abstinence palace was so that she could purify herself.  This was all to get her ready to head to Ise, to approach none other than the sun goddess, Amaterasu Ohokami. With all of these events, we see the full panoply of ritual and ceremony on display.  The formal, legal ceremonies of ascension and granting of rank.  The declaration of auspicious omens for the reign.   There is the making of Buddhist merit, but also the worship of the kami of the archipelago.  This is not an either-or situation.  We are seeing in the first half of this first year the fusion of all of these different elements into something that may not even be all that sensational to those of us, today.  After all, anyone who goes to Japan is likely well-accustomed to the way that both Buddhist and Shinto institutions can both play a large part in people's lives.  While some people may be more drawn to one than the other, for most they are complimentary. That isn't how it had to be.  For a time, it was possible that Buddhism would displace local kami worship altogether.  This was the core of the backlash that we saw from groups like the Nakatomi, whose role in kami-focused ceremonies was threatened by the new religion.  Indeed, for a while now it seems like mention of the kami has taken a backseat to Buddhist temples and ceremonies in the Chronicles.  Likewise, as a foreign religion, Buddhism could have also fallen out of favor.  It was not fore-ordained that it would come to have a permanent place on the archipelago.  This tension between local kami worship—later called Shinto, the Way of the Kami—and Buddhist teachings would vary throughout Japanese history, with one sometimes seen as more prestigious or more natural than the other, but neither one would fully eclipse the other. One could say that was in part due to the role that Amaterasu and kami worship played in the court ceremonies.  However, even there indigenous practices were not necessarily safe.  The court could have just as easily imported Confucian rituals, and replaced the spiritual connection between the sovereign and the kami with the continental style Mandate of Heaven. And thus, the choices that were being made at this time would have huge implications for the Japanese state for centuries to come. I should note that it is unlikely that this spontaneously arose amongst the upper class and the leadership.  I doubt this was just Ohoama's strategy to give himself multiple levers of power—though I'm not saying he wasn't thinking about that either.  But the only way that these levers existed was through their continued life in the culture and the people of the time.  If the people didn't believe in Buddhist merit, or that the kami influenced their lives, then neither would have given them much sway.  It was the fact that these were a part of the cultural imaginary of the state, and how people imagined themselves and their surroundings, that they were effective tools for Ohoama and his government. And so it seems that Ohoama's first year is off to a smashing success.  By the fifth month he is already issuing edicts—specifically on the structure of the state, which we discussed some last episode. But the high could not be maintained indefinitely.  And on the 29th day of the 5th month we have what we might consider our first negative entry, when Sakamoto no Takara no Omi passed away. You may remember Sakamoto, but I wouldn't blame you if you didn't.  He was the commander in the Nara Basin, under general Wofukei, who took 300 troops to Tatsuta.  From there he advanced to the Hiraishi plain and up to the top of Mt. Takayasu, to confront the Afumi forces that had taken the castle.  They fled, and Takara and his men overnighted at the castle.  The next day they tried to intercept Afumi troops advancing from the Kawachi plain, but they were forced to fall back to a defensive position.   We covered that in Episode 131 with the rest of the campaign in the Nara Basin. Takara's death is the first of many entries—I count roughly 21 through this and the following reign—which, for the most part, are all similarly worded.  Sakamoto no Takara no Omi, of Upper Daikin rank, died.  He was posthumously granted the rank of Shoushi for service in the Year of Mizu-no-e Saru, aka Jinshin.  We are told the individual, their rank at the time of their death, and then a note about a posthumous grant of rank.  Upper Daikin was already about the 7th rank from the top in the system of 664, and Shoushi would be the 6th rank, and one of the “ministerial” ranks.  This is out of 26, total.  “Kin” itself was the fourth of about 7 categories, and the last category that was split into six sub-ranks, with greater and lesser (Daikin and Shokin), each of which was further divided into Upper, Middle, and Lower ranks.  There's a lot to go into, in fact a little too much for this episode, so for more on the ranks in use at the start of the reign, check out our blogpost for this episode.        The giving of posthumous rank is mostly just an honorific.  After all, the individual is now deceased, so it isn't as if they would be drawing more of a stipend, though their new ranks may have influenced their funerary rites and similar things. As I said, on a quick scan of the text, I counted  21 of these entries, though there may be a few more with slightly different phrasing or circumstances.  Some of them were quite notable in the record, while others may have only had a mention here or there.  That they are mentioned, though, likely speaks to the importance of that connection to such a momentous year.  The Nihon Shoki is thought to have been started around the time of Ohoama or his successor, along with the Kojiki, and so it would have been important to people of the time to remind everyone that their ancestors had been the ones who helped with that momentous event.  It really isn't that much different from those who proudly trace their lineage back to heroes of, say, the American Revolution, though it likely held even more sway being closer to the actual events. After the death of Sakamoto no Takara, we get another death announcement.  This is of someone that Aston translates as “Satek Syomyeong” of Baekje, of Lower Daikin rank.  We aren't given much else about him, but we are told that Ohoama was shocked.  He granted Syomyeong the posthumous rank of “Outer Shoushi”, per Aston's translation.  He also posthumously named him as Prime Minister, or Desapyong, of Baekje. There are a few clues about who this might be, but very little to go on.  He is mentioned in 671, during the reign of Naka no Oe, when he received the rank of Upper Daikin along with Minister—or Sapyong—Yo Jasin.  It is also said in the interlinear text that he was the Vice Minister of the Ministry of Judgment—the Houkan no Taifu.  The Ministry of Judgment—the Houkan or perhaps the Nori no Tsukasa—is thought to have been the progenitor of the later Shikibu, the Ministry of Ceremony.  One of the major roles it played was in the selection of candidates for rank, position, and promotion. We are also told that in the year 660, in the reign of Takara Hime, one of the nobles captured in the Tang invasion of Baekje was “Desapyong Satek”, so perhaps this Syomyeong was a descendant or relative of the previous prime minister, who fled to Yamato with other refugees.  We also have another record from 671 of a Satek Sondeung and his companions accompanying the Tang envoy Guo Yacun.  So it would seem that the Sathek family was certainly notable The name “Satek” shows up once more, though Aston then translates it as “Sataku”, like a monk or scholar's name.  “Sataku” would be the Japanese on'yomi pronunciation of the same characters, so perhaps another relative. What we can take away from all of this is that the Baekje refugee community is still a thing in Yamato.  This Satek Seomyeong has court rank—Upper Daikin rank, just like Sakamoto, in the previous entry.  And we know that he had an official position at court—not just in the Baekje court in exile.  We'll see more on this as the community is further integrated into the rest of Society, such that there would no longer be a Baekje community, but families would continue to trace their lineages back to Baekje families, often with pride. The other odd thing here is the character “outer” or “outside” before “Shoushi”.  Aston translates it as part of the rank, and we see it show up a total of four times in some variation of “Outer Lesser X rank”.  Mostly it is as here, Outer Lesser Purple.  Later we would see a distinction of “outer” and “inner” ranks, which this may be a version of.  Depending on one's family lineage would denote whether one received an “outer” or “inner” rank, and so it may be that since Satek Syomyeong was from the Baekje community, it was more appropriate for him to have an “outside” rank. “Outer” rank would also be given to Murakuni no Muraji no Woyori, the general who had led the campaign to Afumi, taking the Seta bridge.  He was also posthumously given the rank of “Outer Shoushi” upon his death in 676.  Murakuni no Woyori is the only person of that surname mentioned around this time, so perhaps he wasn't from one of the “core” families of the Yamato court, despite the service he had rendered.  We also have at least one other noble of Baekje who is likewise granted an ”outer” rank. On the other side there are those like Ohomiwa no Makamuta no Kobito no Kimi, who was posthumously granted the rank of “Inner” Shoushi.  Here I would note that Ohomiwa certainly seems to suggest an origin in the Nara Basin, in the heartland of Yamato. The terms “Inner” and “Outer” are only used on occasion, however, and not consistently in all cases.  This could just be because of the records that the scribes were working off of at the time.  It is hard to say, exactly. All of these entries about posthumous ranks being granted tend to refer to cap ranks, those applying to members of various Uji, the clans that had been created to help organize the pre-Ritsuryo state. The Uji and their members played important roles in the court and the nation, both as ministers and lower functionaries.  But I also want to mention another important component of Ohoama's court, the members of the princely class, many of whom also actively contributed to the functioning of the state.  Among this class are those that Aston refers to as “Princes of the Blood”, or “Shinnou”.  These include the royal princes, sons of Ohoama who were in line for the throne, but also any of his brothers and sisters.  Then there were the “miko”, like Prince Kurikuma, who had been the Viceroy in Tsukushi, denying troops to the Afumi court.  Those princes claimed some lineal descent from a sovereign, but they were not directly related to the reigning sovereign.  In fact, it isn't clear, today, if they were even indirectly related to the reigning sovereign, other than through the fact that the elites of the archipelago had likely been forming marriage alliances with one another for centuries, so who knows.  And maybe they made their claims back to a heavenly descendant, like Nigi Hayahi.  Either way, they were the ones with claims—legitimate or otherwise—to royal blood.  Notably, the Princes did not belong to any of the Uji, , and they didn't have kabane, either—no “Omi”, “Muraji”, “Atahe”, et cetera. They did, at least from this reign forward, have rank.  But it was separate and different from the rank of the Uji members.  Members of the various Uji were referred to with cap rank, but the Princely ranks were just numbered—in the Nihon Shoki we see mention of princes of the 2nd through 5th ranks—though presumably there was also a “first” rank.  It is not entirely clear when this princely rank system was put into place, but it was probably as they were moving all of the land, and thus the taxes, to the state.  Therefore the court would have needed to know what kind of stipend each prince was to receive—a stipend based on their rank.  These ranks, as with later numbered ranks, appear to have been given in ascending order, like medals in a tournament:  first rank, second rank, third rank, etc. with fifth rank being the lowest of the Princely ranks. Many of these Princes also held formal positions in the government.  We saw this in Naka no Oe's reign with Prince Kurikuma taking the Viceroy-ship of Tsukushi, but during Ohoama's reign we see it even more. Beneath the Princes were the various Ministers and Public Functionaries—the Officers of the court, from the lowest page to the highest minister.  They were members of the elite noble families, for the most part, or else they claimed descent from the elite families of the continent.  Either way they were part of what we would no doubt call the Nobility.  Their cap-rank system, mentioned earlier, was separate from that used by the Princes. And, then at the bottom, supporting this structure, were the common people.  Like the princes, they did not necessarily have a surname, and they didn't really figure into the formal rank system.  They certainly weren't considered members of the titled class, and often don't even show up in the record.  And yet we should not forget that they were no doubt the most numerous and diverse group for the majority of Japanese history.  Our sources, however, have a much more narrow focus. There is one more class of people to mention here, and that is the evolving priestly class.  Those who took Buddhist orders and became Buddhist monks were technically placed outside of the social system, though that did not entirely negate their connections to the outside world.  We see, for example, how Ohoama, even in taking orders, still had servants and others to wait on him.  However, they were at least theoretically outside of the social hierarchy, and could achieve standing within the Buddhist community through their studies of Buddhist scripture.  They had their own hierarchy, which was tied in to the State through particular Buddhist officers appointed by the government, but otherwise the various temples seem to have been largely in charge of their own affairs. But anyway, let's get back to the Chronicles. Following closely on the heels of Satek Syomyeong's passing, two days later, we have another entry, this one much more neutral.  We are told that Tamna, aka the kingdom on Jeju island off the southern tip of the Korean peninsula, sent Princes Kumaye, Tora, Uma, and others with tribute. So now we are getting back into the diplomatic swing of things.  There had been one previous embassy—that of Gim Apsil of Silla, who had arrived just towards the end of the Jinshin War, but they were merely entertained in Tsukushi and sent back, probably because Ohoama's court were still cleaning house. Tamna, Silla, and Goguryeo—usually accompanied by Silla escorts—would be the main visitors to Yamato for a time.  At this point, Silla was busy trying to get the Tang forces to leave the peninsula.  This was partly assisted by the various uprisings in the captured territories of Goguryeo and Baekje—primarily up in Goguryeo.  There were various attempts to restore the kingdom.  It isn't clear, but I suspect that the Goguryeo envoys we do eventually see were operating largely as a vassal state under Silla. Tamna, on the other hand, seems to have been outside of the conflict, from what we see in the records, and it likely was out of the way of the majority of any fighting.  They also seem to have had a different relationship with Yamato, based on some of the interactions. It is very curious to me that the names of the people from Tamna seem like they could come from Yamato.  Perhaps that is related in some way to theories that Tamna was one of the last hold-outs of continental proto-Japonic language prior to the ancestor of modern Korean gaining ascendancy.  Or it could just be an accident of how things got copied down in Sinitic characters and then translated back out. The Tamna mission arrived on the 8th day of the 6th intercalary month of 673.  A Silla embassy arrived 7 days later, but rather than tribute, their mission was twofold—two ambassadors to offer congratulations to Ohoama and two to offer condolences on the late sovereign—though whether that means Naka no Oe or Ohotomo is not exactly clear.  All of these arrived and would have been hosted, initially, in Tsukushi, probably at modern Fukuoka.  The Silla envoys were accompanied by Escorts, who were briefly entertained and offered presents by the Dazaifu, the Yamato government extension on Kyushu, and then sent home.  From then on, the envoys would be at the mercy of Yamato and their ships. About a month and a half later, on the 20th day of the 8th month, Goguryeo envoys also showed up with tribute, accompanied by Silla escorts.  Five days later, word arrived back from the court in Asuka.  The Silla envoys who had come to offer congratulations to the sovereign on his ascension were to be sent onwards.  Those who had just come with tribute, however, could leave it with the viceroy in Tsukushi.    They specifically made this point to the Tamna envoys, whom they then suggested should head back soon, as the weather was about to turn, and they wouldn't want to be stuck there when the monsoon season came. The Tamna cohort weren't just kicked out, however.  The court did grant them and their king cap-rank.  The envoys were given Upper Dai-otsu, which Yamato equated to the rank of a minister in Tamna. The Silla envoys—about 27 in total—made their way to Naniwa.  It took them a month, and they arrived in Naniwa on the 28th day of the 9th month.  Their arrival was met with entertainments—musical performances and presents that were given to the envoys.  This was all part of the standard diplomatic song and dance—quite literally, in this case. We aren't given details on everything.  Presumably the envoys offered their congratulations, which likely included some presents from Silla, as well as a congratulatory message.  We aren't given exact details, but a little more than a month later, on the first day of the 11th month, envoy Gim Seungwon took his leave. Meanwhile, the Goguryeo envoys, who, like Tamna, had arrived merely with tribute, were still in Tsukushi.  On the 21st day of the 11th month, just over two months after they arrived, we are told that they were entertained at the Ohogohori in Tsukushi and were given presents based on their rank. The Ohogohori, or “Big District”, appears to mirror a similar area in Naniwa that was likewise known for hosting diplomatic envoys. With the diplomatic niceties over, there was one more thing to do in this first year of the new reign: the thanksgiving ritual always held at the beginning of a new reign, the Daijosai, or oho-namematsuri.  This is a harvest ritual where the newly enthroned sovereign offers new rice to the kami and then eats some himself.  At least in the modern version, he gives thanks and prays to Amaterasu Ohomikami, as well as to the amatsu-kami and kunitsu-kami, the kami of heaven and earth. The Daijosai shares a lot in common with another important annual festival, the Niinamesai, or the Feast of First Fruits.  This is the traditional harvest festival, usually held in November.  The Daijosai follows much the same form as the Niinamesai, and as such, in years where there is a new sovereign, and thus the Daijosai is held, the Niinamesai is not, since it would be duplicative. Many of the rituals of the Daijosai are private affairs and not open to the public. There are various theories about what happens, but only those who are part of the ritual know for sure, and they are sworn to secrecy. The first instance of the Daijosai in the Chronicles is during the reign of Shiraga Takehiko Kunioshi Waka Yamato Neko, aka Seinei Tennou, in the 5th century, but we should take that with a huge grain of salt.  Remember, one of the purposes behind the chronicles was to explain how everything came to be, and saying “we just made it up” wasn't really going to fly. I've seen some sources suggest that the Daijosai can be attributed to the first reign of Ohoama's mother, Takara Hime, aka Kougyoku Tennou.  The term used in her reign, though is Niiname, which seems to refer to the annual Niinamesai, though she is the first in the Chronicles that seems to celebrate it in the first year of her reign, sharing with the Crown Prince and Ministers. It is likely that the ritual is much older in origin.  After all, giving the first fruits of the harvest to the kami to thank them for their assistance seems like the core of harvest festivals around the world.  We see it mentioned as the Niinamesai in much of the rest of the Nihon Shoki, even back to the Age of the Gods, when it played an important part in the stories of Amaterasu and Susanowo.  It is in Ohoama's reign, though, that it seems to first take on its character as a true ritual of the state.  We see that the Nakatomi and the Imbe were involved.  Together these two families oversaw much of the court ritual having to do with kami worship.  We also know that the officials of the Jingikan, the Ministry of Kami Affairs, were also present, as they were all given presents for attending on the sovereign during the festival.  We also see that the district governors of Harima and Tamba, which were both in the area of modern Hyougo Prefecture, as well as various laborers under them, were all recognized with presents as well.  We can assume that this was because they provided the rice and other offerings used in the festival.  In addition to the presents they received, the two governors were each given an extra grade of cap-rank. Another Daijosai would be carried out in the first year of Ohoama's successor, and from there on it seems to have become one of if not *the* major festival of a reign.  It marks, in many ways, the end of the first year of ceremonies for the first year of a reign.  And even in other years, the Niinamesai is often one of the pre-eminent festivals. The Daijosai may have been the climax of the year in many ways, but the year was not quite done yet.  We have two more entries, and both are related to Buddhism.  First, on the 17th day of the 12th month, just twelve days after the Daijosai, Prince Mino and Ki no Omi no Katamaro were appointed Commissioners for the erection of the Great Temple of Takechi—aka the Ohomiya no Ohodera, also known as the Daikandaiji. The Daikandaiji was a massive temple complex.  It is thought that it was originally a relocation of Kudara Ohodera, and we have remains at the foot of Kaguyama—Mt. Kagu, in the Asuka region of modern Kashihara city.  Many of the ruins, however, seem to date to a slightly later period, suggesting that the main temple buildings were rebuilt after Ohoama's reign.  Still, it is quite likely that he had people start the initial work. In setting up the temple, of course it needed a head priest.  And so Ohoama called upon a priest named Fukurin and made him an offer he couldn't refuse… literally.  Fukurin tried to object to being posted as the head priest.  He said that he was too old to be in charge of the temple.  Ohoama wasn't having any of it.  He had made up his mind, and Fukurin was in no position to refuse him. A quick note on the two commissioners here.  First off, I would note that Prince Mino here isn't mentioned as having Princely rank.  Instead, he is mentioned with the ministerial rank of Shoushi.  Ki no Katamaro, on the other hand, is Lower Shoukin, several grades below.  Once again, a bit of confusion in the ranks, as it were. The final entry for the year 673 occurred 10 days after the erection of the great temple, and it was a fairly straightforward entry:  The Buddhist Priest, Gijou, was made Shou-soudzu, or Junior Soudzu.  Junior Soudzu was one of the government appointed positions of priests charged with overseeing the activities of the priests and temples and holding them to account as necessary.  Originally there was the Soujou and the Soudzu, but they were later broken up into several different positions, likely due to the proliferation of Buddhism throughout the archipelago. There doesn't seem to be much on Gijou before this point, but we know that he would go on to live a pretty full life, passing away over thirty years later, in 706 CE. He would outlive Ohoama and his successor.  And with that, we come to the end of the first year.  I am not planning to go year by year through this entire reign—in fact, we have already touched on a lot of the various recurring entries.  But I do think that it is worth it to see how the Chronicles treat this first year for a reign that would have been considered pretty momentous to the people of the time. Next episode we'll continue going through the reign of Ohoama, aka Temmu Tennou.  There is a lot going on, which, as I've said, will influence the nation for centuries—even up until the modern day. Until then, if you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  

Episode 242 is about putting ploughs into the ground, how the rural areas of much of the country was experiencing something of an agricultural revolution. It's rather a fascinating tale, because there are tremendous contradictions in what we're going to talk about this episode. As usual, there we will need to combine a global story with our local story —without doing so would be to stunt our awareness of the strands and tendrils that spread and connect. By the 1850s, Great Britain was manipulating trade and military as well as political power as reciprocating elements. This is a technique adopted by pretty much every empire since before Carthage. Political influence was used so as to extend and secure free exchange, in Britain's case commerce and anglicisation, spread political influence and welded alliances. As Lord Palmerston so aptly pointed out “…It is the business of Government to open and secure the roads for the Merchant…” Antiquated regimes were its enemy and foreign tariffs were its enemy, as anyone knows, the greatest enemy of free trade are tariffs. Empires were broken, the gouty and outdated Chinese, the religion-strangled Turkey, innumerable sheikdoms, sultanates and chieftancies were drawn into the invisible British empire of informal sway. When merchants manage affairs instead of men with guns, it's harder to pin down the essence of power — and also the dangers. The results of this grand vision were not encouraging by the 1870s and the Victorians were less sure of their panacea for both Asia and Africa. Among the ancient and invincibly conservative Confucian and Islamic rulers, no effective westernising collaborators had been found. The Tai'ping rebellion in China and the growing chaos in Muslim states appeared never ending. It was the United States that was gobbling up immigrants — most of Britain's emigrants went there, and the Victorians bought and sold more there than in any other single country. It had dawned on the British political elite that their commerical experience impressed a single portentous fact — that their most successful trading associations with the exception of the Indian Empire, were with Europeans transplanted abroad. They accounted for around 70 percent of all her investment overseas. The white communities in the temperate zones had the outlook and the institutions favourable to progress which the Asiatics and Africans seemed to lack. They offered customers with European tastes and money to spend. Mutual self-interest with whites of their empire meant private business of Great Britain commingled freely with that of Greater Britain and the once-colonial societies of the New World — the Americans and many in South America too. At the same time, the colonists were growing more bitter about Downing Street control and self-government appeared one solution. The aim was to avert the loss of more colonies and more American Wars of independence. So by the 1870s, confederated Canada, responsibly governed Australia and the Cape were regarded as constitutional embodiments of collaboration between British and colonial interests — all working at their best. The number of trading stores in the Transkei quadrupled to a few hundred, and all of this meant that there was a major qualitative shift in the cumsumption patterns of Africans. New permanent wants replaced needs, metal was now preferred to traditionally crafted pots and baskets, the cow-hide kaross was replaced by the Witney blanket, ploughs and all manner of tools flooded into these developing farms. Around South Africa, energy seemed to be surging. Take the highveld for example. The sour veld of the Harrismith district to be precise. Largely used for summer grazing, the farmers here often moved their herds into Natal every autumn. Below the Berg as they put, OnderBerg. Underberg.

Episode 242 is about putting ploughs into the ground, how the rural areas of much of the country was experiencing something of an agricultural revolution. It's rather a fascinating tale, because there are tremendous contradictions in what we're going to talk about this episode. As usual, there we will need to combine a global story with our local story —without doing so would be to stunt our awareness of the strands and tendrils that spread and connect. By the 1850s, Great Britain was manipulating trade and military as well as political power as reciprocating elements. This is a technique adopted by pretty much every empire since before Carthage. Political influence was used so as to extend and secure free exchange, in Britain's case commerce and anglicisation, spread political influence and welded alliances. As Lord Palmerston so aptly pointed out “…It is the business of Government to open and secure the roads for the Merchant…” Antiquated regimes were its enemy and foreign tariffs were its enemy, as anyone knows, the greatest enemy of free trade are tariffs. Empires were broken, the gouty and outdated Chinese, the religion-strangled Turkey, innumerable sheikdoms, sultanates and chieftancies were drawn into the invisible British empire of informal sway. When merchants manage affairs instead of men with guns, it's harder to pin down the essence of power — and also the dangers. The results of this grand vision were not encouraging by the 1870s and the Victorians were less sure of their panacea for both Asia and Africa. Among the ancient and invincibly conservative Confucian and Islamic rulers, no effective westernising collaborators had been found. The Tai'ping rebellion in China and the growing chaos in Muslim states appeared never ending. It was the United States that was gobbling up immigrants — most of Britain's emigrants went there, and the Victorians bought and sold more there than in any other single country. It had dawned on the British political elite that their commerical experience impressed a single portentous fact — that their most successful trading associations with the exception of the Indian Empire, were with Europeans transplanted abroad. They accounted for around 70 percent of all her investment overseas. The white communities in the temperate zones had the outlook and the institutions favourable to progress which the Asiatics and Africans seemed to lack. They offered customers with European tastes and money to spend. Mutual self-interest with whites of their empire meant private business of Great Britain commingled freely with that of Greater Britain and the once-colonial societies of the New World — the Americans and many in South America too. At the same time, the colonists were growing more bitter about Downing Street control and self-government appeared one solution. The aim was to avert the loss of more colonies and more American Wars of independence. So by the 1870s, confederated Canada, responsibly governed Australia and the Cape were regarded as constitutional embodiments of collaboration between British and colonial interests — all working at their best. The number of trading stores in the Transkei quadrupled to a few hundred, and all of this meant that there was a major qualitative shift in the cumsumption patterns of Africans. New permanent wants replaced needs, metal was now preferred to traditionally crafted pots and baskets, the cow-hide kaross was replaced by the Witney blanket, ploughs and all manner of tools flooded into these developing farms. Around South Africa, energy seemed to be surging. Take the highveld for example. The sour veld of the Harrismith district to be precise. Largely used for summer grazing, the farmers here often moved their herds into Natal every autumn. Below the Berg as they put, OnderBerg. Underberg.

國定假日 guó dìng jià rì – national holiday (official public holiday set by the government)立法院 lì fǎ yuàn – Legislative Yuan (Taiwan's law-making body)三讀通過 sān dú tōng guò – passed after three readings (the final approval process of a bill in the legislature)法案 fǎ àn – bill; proposed law紀念日及節日實施條例 jì niàn rì jí jié rì shí shī tiáo lì – Memorial and Holiday Implementation Act (a law regulating commemorative and national holidays)教師節 jiào shī jié – Teacher's Day孔子 kǒng zǐ – Confucius至聖先師 zhì shèng xiān shī – "Great Sage and First Teacher" (an honorific title for Confucius)有教無類 yǒu jiào wú lèi – to teach all regardless of background (Confucian principle)誨人不倦 huì rén bú juàn – never tired of teaching others補假 bǔ jià – compensatory day off; substitute holiday光復節 guāng fù jié – Retrocession Day (Oct. 25, commemorating Taiwan's return from Japanese to ROC rule)殖民統治 zhí mín tǒng zhì – colonial rule中華民國 zhōng huá mín guó – Republic of China (official name of Taiwan)投降 tóu xiáng – to surrender接收 jiē shōu – to take over; to receive (control or responsibility)共產黨 gòng chǎn dǎng – Communist Party (usually referring to the Chinese Communist Party)打仗 dǎ zhàng – to fight a war; to engage in battle行憲紀念日 xíng xiàn jì niàn rì – Constitution Day (Dec. 25, commemorating the enforcement of the ROC Constitution)憲法 xiàn fǎ – constitution象徵 xiàng zhēng – symbol; to symbolize民主憲政 mín zhǔ xiàn zhèng – democratic constitutional government制度 zhì dù – system; institution勞動節 láo dòng jié – Labor Day (May 1st)If you're ready to take your Chinese to the next level, not just memorizing words but actually having meaningful conversations with Taiwanese people about real topics like politics, culture, war, news, economics, and more. I invite you to join a one-on-one trial lesson with me. I'll help you build a clear, personalized plan so you can speak more naturally and truly connect with others in Chinese. Book a one-on-one trial lesson with me !

背 bèi – to memorize; to recite from memory經典 jīng diǎn – classic texts; classics (especially in literature, philosophy, or religion)三字經 sān zì jīng – Three Character Classic, a traditional Chinese text used to teach Confucian values to children論語 lún yǔ – The Analects of Confucius, a collection of sayings and ideas of Confucius文言文 wén yán wén – Classical Chinese; literary Chinese used in ancient texts人之初，性本善 rén zhī chū, xìng běn shàn – "At the beginning of life, human nature is inherently good" (opening line of the Three Character Classic)本性 běn xìng – innate nature; true nature性相近，習相遠 xìng xiāng jìn, xí xiāng yuǎn – "Human nature is similar, but habits lead people far apart" (a line from the Three Character Classic)孔子 kǒng zǐ – Confucius, a famous Chinese philosopher and educator儒家思想 rú jiā sī xiǎng – Confucian thought or philosophy己所不欲，勿施於人 jǐ suǒ bú yù, wù shī yú rén – "Do not do to others what you do not want done to yourself" (from The Analects)強加 qiáng jiā – to impose (something unpleasant) on someone學而時習之，不亦說乎 xué ér shí xí zhī, bù yì yuè hū – "To learn and practice it from time to time, is that not a joy?" (opening line of The Analects)修養 xiū yǎng – self-cultivation; personal development打擊樂 dǎ jí yuè – percussion (musical instruments)敲木琴 qiāo mù qín – to play the xylophone (literally "knock wooden instrument")芭蕾 bā lěi – balletIf you're ready to take your Chinese to the next level, not just memorizing words but actually having meaningful conversations with Taiwanese people about real topics like politics, culture, war, news, economics, and more. I invite you to join a one-on-one trial lesson with me. I'll help you build a clear, personalized plan so you can speak more naturally and truly connect with others in Chinese. Book a one-on-one trial lesson with me !

Many different cultures from China and Southeast Asia honor the dead on the 15th day of the seventh lunar month during the Hungry Ghost Festival, also known as Zhongyuan in Daoism and Yulanpen or Ullambana in Mahayana Buddhism. In this episode, we'll trace the origins of ancestor worship to ancient Shang Dynasty Oracle Bones, or “Dragon Bones,” which were used to inscribe petitions to ancestral spirits and hold the earliest evidence of Chinese writing. Then we'll explore how regional variations of those ancient beliefs blended with the Buddhist Ulambana Sutra (or Mulian Rescues His Mother from Hell), Daoist visions of the afterlife, and Confucian teachings on filial responsibility. Over time, these influences eventually gave rise to the Hungry Ghost Festival which has continued to evolve into modern celebrations that weave together ancient traditions and modern lifestyles to honor both personal ancestors and members of the community lost in historical tragedies.TranscriptsFor transcripts of this episode head over to: https://archpodnet.com/tpm/21LinksSee photos related to episode topics on InstagramLoving the macabre lore? Treat your host to a coffee!Learn More About Chinese History with the China History PodcastLos Angeles Hungry Ghost Festival 2025Video: Taiwan's “Ghost Grappling”Video: Mulian Saves His Mother Performance at Kiew Lee Tong Temple in SingaporeAcademic SourcesCampany, Robert F. 1991. Ghosts Matter: The Culture of Ghosts in Six Dynasties Zhiguai. Chinese Literature: Essays, Articles, Reviews (CLEAR) 13:15.Chan, Selina Ching. 2023. Unequal Inscriptions of the Hungry Ghosts (Yulan) Festival Celebrations as Intangible Cultural Heritage in Hong Kong. China Perspectives(132):49–59.Deutsch, Lauren W. Chinese Joss Paper Offerings.Liu, Jingyu. 2020. The Unimpeded Passage: The Making of Universal Salvation Rites and Buddho-Daoist Interactions in Medieval China.Shirin, Shakinah. 2021. Past and Present Rituals of Hungry Ghost Festival. Intercultural Communication.Zhao, Yin. Indian Cultural Elements on the Ullambana Festival.ArchPodNetAPN Website: https://www.archpodnet.comAPN on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/archpodnetAPN on Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/archpodnetAPN on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/archpodnetAPN ShopAffiliatesMotion

In this episode of History 102, 'WhatIfAltHist' creator Rudyard Lynch and co-host Austin Padgett analyze 2,000 years of Imperial China's civilizational patterns, examining how Confucian bureaucracy, geographic divisions, and cyclical dynastic struggles shaped one of history's most enduring empires. -- SPONSOR: ZCASH | SHOPIFY | NETSUITE | ORACLE The right technology reshapes politics and culture toward freedom and prosperity. Zcash—the "machinery of freedom"—delivers unstoppable private money through encryption. When your wealth is unseen, it's unseizable. Download Zashi wallet and follow @genzcash to learn more: ⁠https://x.com/genzcash⁠ Shopify is the world's leading e-commerce platform, offering a market-leading checkout system Shoppay and exclusive AI apps. Nobody does selling better than Shopify. Get a $1 per month trial at ⁠⁠https://shopify.com/momentofzen⁠⁠. More than 42,000 businesses have already upgraded to NetSuite by Oracle, the #1 cloud financial system bringing accounting, financial management, inventory, HR, into ONE proven platform. If you're looking for an ERP platform, get a one-of-a-kind flexible financing program on NetSuite: ⁠⁠https://netsuite.com/102⁠⁠ - Download your free CFO's guide to AI and machine learning. Oracle Cloud Infrastructure (OCI): Oracle's next-generation cloud platform delivers blazing-fast AI and ML performance with 50% less for compute and 80% less for outbound networking compared to other cloud providers. OCI powers industry leaders like Vodafone and Thomson Reuters with secure infrastructure and application development capabilities. New U.S. customers can get their cloud bill cut in half by switching to OCI before March 31, 2024 at ⁠⁠https://oracle.com/cognitive⁠⁠. -- FOLLOW ON X: @whatifalthist (Rudyard) @LudwigNverMises (Austin) @TurpentineMedia -- TIMESTAMPS: (00:00) Introduction (01:45) Imperial China Overview & Macro History (07:00) China's Fall of Rome Period (12:01) Geographic Regions of China (17:24) Sponsors: ZCash | Shopify (23:00) Qin Dynasty Unification (46:20) Qin Dynasty Fall & Han Dynasty Rise (54:00) Han Dynasty Economics & Expansion (1:25:00) Three Ruling Classes: Bureaucracy, Eunuchs, Nobility (1:36:33) Sponsors: Netsuite | Oracle (1:39:00) War of Three Kingdoms & Dark Ages (1:47:00) Tang Dynasty Golden Age (1:55:00) Neo-Confucian Renaissance & Song Dynasty (1:58:00) Mongol Conquest (2:00:00) Ming Dynasty Isolationism (2:08:00) Manchu Conquest & Qing Dynasty (2:12:04) Modern China's Challenges (2:19:24) Wrap Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Once a powerful figure who reversed the disintegration of China and steered the country to Allied victory in World War II, Chiang Kai-shek fled into exile following his 1949 defeat in the Chinese civil war. As attention pivoted to Mao Zedong's communist experiment, Chiang was relegated to the dustbin of history. In Chiang Kai-shek's Politics of Shame, Grace Huang reconsiders Chiang's leadership and legacy by drawing on an extraordinary and uncensored collection of his diaries, telegrams, and speeches stitched together by his secretaries. She paints a new, intriguing portrait of this twentieth-century leader who advanced a Confucian politics of shame to confront Japanese incursion into China and urge unity among his people. In also comparing Chiang's response to imperialism to those of Mao, Yuan Shikai, and Mahatma Gandhi, Grace widens the implications of her findings to explore alternatives to Western expressions of nationalism and modernity and reveal how leaders of vulnerable states can use potent cultural tools to inspire their country and contribute to an enduring national identity. Grace Huang is professor of government at St. Lawrence University in Canton, NY. She likes to tackle a range of intellectual questions, including: what are the conditions in leadership that promote collective inspiration versus collective hysteria or violence? How do talented subordinates weigh their ability to modify a leader's deleterious actions against their moral culpability of participating in those policies? How does a particular democratic ideology and culture shape the choices of working mothers, and how do such mothers make decisions about care, family, and work? Her research interests include political leadership, the political uses of shame in Chinese leadership, and gender, labor, and the family. She can be reached at ghuang@stlawu.edu. Dong Wang is distinguished professor of history and director of the Wellington Koo Institute for Modern China in World History at Shanghai University (since 2016), a member of the Royal Institute of International Affairs, and an elected Fellow of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Once a powerful figure who reversed the disintegration of China and steered the country to Allied victory in World War II, Chiang Kai-shek fled into exile following his 1949 defeat in the Chinese civil war. As attention pivoted to Mao Zedong's communist experiment, Chiang was relegated to the dustbin of history. In Chiang Kai-shek's Politics of Shame, Grace Huang reconsiders Chiang's leadership and legacy by drawing on an extraordinary and uncensored collection of his diaries, telegrams, and speeches stitched together by his secretaries. She paints a new, intriguing portrait of this twentieth-century leader who advanced a Confucian politics of shame to confront Japanese incursion into China and urge unity among his people. In also comparing Chiang's response to imperialism to those of Mao, Yuan Shikai, and Mahatma Gandhi, Grace widens the implications of her findings to explore alternatives to Western expressions of nationalism and modernity and reveal how leaders of vulnerable states can use potent cultural tools to inspire their country and contribute to an enduring national identity. Grace Huang is professor of government at St. Lawrence University in Canton, NY. She likes to tackle a range of intellectual questions, including: what are the conditions in leadership that promote collective inspiration versus collective hysteria or violence? How do talented subordinates weigh their ability to modify a leader's deleterious actions against their moral culpability of participating in those policies? How does a particular democratic ideology and culture shape the choices of working mothers, and how do such mothers make decisions about care, family, and work? Her research interests include political leadership, the political uses of shame in Chinese leadership, and gender, labor, and the family. She can be reached at ghuang@stlawu.edu. Dong Wang is distinguished professor of history and director of the Wellington Koo Institute for Modern China in World History at Shanghai University (since 2016), a member of the Royal Institute of International Affairs, and an elected Fellow of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/east-asian-studies

Once a powerful figure who reversed the disintegration of China and steered the country to Allied victory in World War II, Chiang Kai-shek fled into exile following his 1949 defeat in the Chinese civil war. As attention pivoted to Mao Zedong's communist experiment, Chiang was relegated to the dustbin of history. In Chiang Kai-shek's Politics of Shame, Grace Huang reconsiders Chiang's leadership and legacy by drawing on an extraordinary and uncensored collection of his diaries, telegrams, and speeches stitched together by his secretaries. She paints a new, intriguing portrait of this twentieth-century leader who advanced a Confucian politics of shame to confront Japanese incursion into China and urge unity among his people. In also comparing Chiang's response to imperialism to those of Mao, Yuan Shikai, and Mahatma Gandhi, Grace widens the implications of her findings to explore alternatives to Western expressions of nationalism and modernity and reveal how leaders of vulnerable states can use potent cultural tools to inspire their country and contribute to an enduring national identity. Grace Huang is professor of government at St. Lawrence University in Canton, NY. She likes to tackle a range of intellectual questions, including: what are the conditions in leadership that promote collective inspiration versus collective hysteria or violence? How do talented subordinates weigh their ability to modify a leader's deleterious actions against their moral culpability of participating in those policies? How does a particular democratic ideology and culture shape the choices of working mothers, and how do such mothers make decisions about care, family, and work? Her research interests include political leadership, the political uses of shame in Chinese leadership, and gender, labor, and the family. She can be reached at ghuang@stlawu.edu. Dong Wang is distinguished professor of history and director of the Wellington Koo Institute for Modern China in World History at Shanghai University (since 2016), a member of the Royal Institute of International Affairs, and an elected Fellow of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/biography

Once a powerful figure who reversed the disintegration of China and steered the country to Allied victory in World War II, Chiang Kai-shek fled into exile following his 1949 defeat in the Chinese civil war. As attention pivoted to Mao Zedong's communist experiment, Chiang was relegated to the dustbin of history. In Chiang Kai-shek's Politics of Shame, Grace Huang reconsiders Chiang's leadership and legacy by drawing on an extraordinary and uncensored collection of his diaries, telegrams, and speeches stitched together by his secretaries. She paints a new, intriguing portrait of this twentieth-century leader who advanced a Confucian politics of shame to confront Japanese incursion into China and urge unity among his people. In also comparing Chiang's response to imperialism to those of Mao, Yuan Shikai, and Mahatma Gandhi, Grace widens the implications of her findings to explore alternatives to Western expressions of nationalism and modernity and reveal how leaders of vulnerable states can use potent cultural tools to inspire their country and contribute to an enduring national identity. Grace Huang is professor of government at St. Lawrence University in Canton, NY. She likes to tackle a range of intellectual questions, including: what are the conditions in leadership that promote collective inspiration versus collective hysteria or violence? How do talented subordinates weigh their ability to modify a leader's deleterious actions against their moral culpability of participating in those policies? How does a particular democratic ideology and culture shape the choices of working mothers, and how do such mothers make decisions about care, family, and work? Her research interests include political leadership, the political uses of shame in Chinese leadership, and gender, labor, and the family. She can be reached at ghuang@stlawu.edu. Dong Wang is distinguished professor of history and director of the Wellington Koo Institute for Modern China in World History at Shanghai University (since 2016), a member of the Royal Institute of International Affairs, and an elected Fellow of the Royal Asiatic Society of Great Britain and Ireland. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In the summer of 1972, Chiang Kai-shek vanished. He missed Double Ten parades. However, Madame Chiang (Soong Mei-ling), and the step-son she loathed (future president Chiang Ching-kuo) carried on as if all was well. There were no press leaks as the president of the Republic of China lay in a coma for six months.   In this episode of Formosa Files, we uncover the cover-up, and tell you about an odd dinner where medical staff waited to pounce and revive the aging dictator. Plus, we meet Jeanette Kung: a cigar-smoking, men's clothing enthusiast who might today be a gay icon of some kind, except for the fact that she possessed an…um…“challenging personality.”SUPPORT the show by rating, commenting, liking, subscribing, and following on social media.

In the wake of military victory, Qianlong turns inward—launching literary purges, rewriting history, and curating an image of himself as the enlightened ruler of a Confucian empire. Through censorship, spectacle, and the manipulation of memory, the Qing court fights a new kind of war: one for cultural supremacy and imperial legitimacy. Time Period Covered: ~ 1735–1760 CE Major Historical Figures: The Qianlong Emperor (Aisin-Gioro Hongli) [r. 1735-1796] Grand Secretary No'chin [d. 1749] Historican Wei Yuan [1794-1857] Major Works Cited: Perdue, Peter C. China Marches West: The Qing Conquest of Central Eurasia. Qian, Zhongshu – Tán Yì Lù, "On the Art of Poetry." Qianlong Emperor. The Siku Quanshu (四库全书) - Qing Imperial Encyclopedia. Woodside, Alexander. Lost Modernities: China, Vietnam, Korea, and the Hazards of World History. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

What does it take to hold an empire together when conquest alone isn't enough? In this sweeping episode, we explore how the Qianlong Emperor fused culture, coercion, and Confucian performance to stabilize a multiethnic empire—crafting an imperial image as powerful as his armies. Time Period Covered: ~ 1735–1760 CE Major Historical Figures: The Qianlong Emperor (Aisin-Gioro Hongli) [r. 1735-1796] Grand Secretary No'chin [d. 1749] Historican Wei Yuan [1794-1857] Major Works Cited: Perdue, Peter C. China Marches West: The Qing Conquest of Central Eurasia. Qian, Zhongshu – Tán Yì Lù, "On the Art of Poetry." Qianlong Emperor, The Siku Quanshu (四库全书) - Qing Imperial Encyclopedia. Woodside, Alexander. Lost Modernities: China, Vietnam, Korea, and the Hazards of World History. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The sovereign, Naka no Oe is dead, and with his death comes an all too familiar tradition: different factions warring for the throne.  And this time it isn't just something we are guessing at, we get a front row seat to the show, with enough details to fill several episodes.  In Part I we will look at what kicked off the war--or at least what we know--and discuss a few of the theories.  We will also go over some of the events that happened while Prince Otomo was the head of state. For more, check out our podcast webpage at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-129 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is episode 129:   The Jinshin no Ran, Part I: Prologue to War. The long bridge at Uji arched over the river, like a wooden rainbow.  Former Crown Prince Ohoama, his head shaved and wearing the garments of a monk, was carried over the bridge.   This was no simple priestly procession, however: he was accompanied by his entire household. Some on foot, and some on horseback.  Even the kesa, once meant to be a symbol of priestly humility and simplicity, cried out that this was a man of wealth and power and status. The procession made its way across the bridge, headed south, to the ancient Yamato capital and then on to the mountain passes beyond, where the cherry trees would bloom, come the spring.  At the north end of the bridge, the high ministers and nobility of Yamato watched them go.  The ministers of the Left and the Right stood in the cold, winter air, wrapped in their warmest clothing, but it wasn't just the weather that was causing a chill.  To some, this seemed a miracle—a clear sign that the succession would now be an easy one, with Ohoama taking himself off the board.  But to others, they weren't so sure. While many of Yamato's traditions had evolved or changed—or even been outright replaced by continental ideas—many still remembered how things had been.  The bloody politics and power struggles that often accompanied any transition of power.  Naka no Oe had risen to power in just such a fashion.  Now that he was not long for this world, would his legacy be any less violent? Greetings, everyone, and welcome back.  Last episode we took you through the official reign of Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou.  Granted, this reign was only from 668 to 671, but Naka no Oe had already been putting his stamp on the state for over 33 years.  Now, however, he was dead, as were those who had helped him implement his enormous changes, and with his death there was the question:  Who would now ascend to the throne? And that question brings us to today's topic:  The Jinshin no Ran, also known as the Jinshin War.  This was a succession dispute that occurred in the year 672 following the death of Naka no Oe, between Naka no Oe's son Ohotomo and his brother Ohoama.  The name, “Jinshin”, is formed much as the name of the “Isshi” incident, using the sinified Japanese reading of the sexagenary cycle characters used for the year.  672 was a “Mizu-no-e Saru” year, or what we today might just call a “Water Monkey” year.  Read together, these characters can be pronounced “Jinshin”, hence “Jinshin no Ran”. Quick digression:  That word “Ran”, indicating a war or similar martial disturbance, is the same character used as the title of the famous Kurosawa film that took Shakespear's King Lear story and set it in the Warring States period of Japan.  If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it—definitely a classic.  Not exactly relevant here, but still worth it. But back to the Jinshin War: we're going to likely spend a few episodes on this, not just because it is important, but also because the record is fairly detailed, and I'd like to use it to really help us get an idea of what was going on.  This episode we'll look at the broad picture: some of the causes of the war and where things were, generally speaking, just before the major campaigns kicked off. Of course, this isn't the first succession dispute in the Chronicles, but this one is incredibly detailed, and especially importantbecause it goes to the heart of the legitimacy of the royal family—the imperial family—for at least the next century.  To a certain extent, I would also suggest that it was exactly the kind of thing that the Nihon Shoki was created to address: an official history as propaganda for the Japanese court, telling  the court approved story of the royal family and providing justification as to why they are in power.  Along the way it also props up the lineages of other elites. So let's go over the basic story of the conflict before we get into the details.  I know, I know: spoilers.  But I think it will help to have context for what we are talking about right now.  To try to summarize: Ohoama, Naka no Oe's brother, is mentioned as the Crown Prince throughout Naka no Oe's reign, but just before Naka no Oe's death, Ohoama declined the position and went to Yoshino to become a Buddhist monk.  This allowed Naka no Oe's son, Prince Ohotomo, the current Dajo Daijin, or head of the council of state, to run the government and eventually take the throne.  However, shortly into Prince Ohotomo's reign, Ohoama raised an army and fought with Ohotomo and the court at Ohotsu-kyo, known as the Afumi court.  After a couple of months of intense fighting, Ohoama defeated the Afumi forces and Ohotomo.  Ohoama would go on to take the throne, becoming known as Temmu Tennou.  He is credited with starting the projects that culminated in the creation of the Kojiki and the Nihon Shoki. On the surface, this could easily look like a simple case of usurpation—especially if you come from a cultural background where sons are expected to inherit from their fathers, as is common in many European monarchies.  However, we have to remind ourselves that this isn't Europe.  For centuries, succession in Yamato had been much more chaotic than that.  Often succession went not to a son or daughter, but first to a brother, and even then it didn't necessarily go to the oldest brother, or to the oldest child.  Even designating an heir wasn't a guarantee that, after a ruler's death, someone else wouldn't come along and change things by force. Of course, the Nihon Shoki appears to lay out various rules for succession.  In most cases, your mother has to be descended—however distantly—from a previous sovereign.  Also, inheritance typically doesn't come at the attainment of adulthood.  It isn't like someone turns 20 and they are suddenly eligible.  We see plenty of reigns that are passed off as regencies—that is, the sovereign is legally just a caretaker for the throne until the true heir comes of age.  Perhaps the most famous of these is Okinaga Tarashi Hime, aka Jingu Tenno, who supposedly held the throne from the death of her husband until their son, Homuda Wake, aka Ojin Tenno, was of age.  But it isn't like she just abdicated.  In fact, I don't think we've seen a single example where a regent has abdicated the throne.  The only real abdication that we see is in 645, when Takara Hime, known as Kogyoku Tenno during her first reign, abdicated after the Isshi Incident.  There are also plenty of examples of possible claimants to the throne who certainly seem like they may have been supremely qualified for the position who end up dying or being killed, sometimes with the specific claim that they were trying to usurp the throne.  The most recent example is Furubito no Oe, who likely was in line to inherit the throne from Takara Hime prior to the Isshi Incident.  It doesn't help that the Chronicle often only calls people by their titles:  so it is the “Crown Prince” who does such and such, or it is “the sovereign”—without explicitly naming who that person is.  Of course, this is sometimes made clear by context, but that can't always be relied upon. This is compounded by the fact that at this time, Wa cultural norms were being overwritten by continental concepts of propriety and morality, with the growth of reading and continental works introducing many people to the discourses of Confucius and others.  Borrowing governmental structures and ideas from a Confucian state meant that Confucian ideals would get pulled along as well, even if those structures and ideas weren't strictly Confucian.  An example is the importance of filial piety, and so-called “Proper” relationships between people.  In some cases Confucian or even Buddhist concepts were used to explain and rationalize existing traditions, and in others they were used to provide a counter-narrative.  Thus the world described by the Nihon Shoki is one that was no doubt much more comprehensible to an 8th century member of court than to someone from the 3rd. I say all that so that we can keep an eye out for the Chroniclers' bias and perhaps give some thought to what might not have gotten written down. The creation of the Ritsuryo state was the culmination of over 33 years of work.  During that time, the Yamato court had centralized their power and control.  The Chronicles, looking back at the end of the process, report this as a good thing, and it is hard to argue that these reforms truly did lead to the country of Japan as we know it, today.  However, it probably wasn't all lollipops and rainbows.   The centralization of authority received pushback, and we see the center flexing its military might as well as legal and moral authority.  The new Ritsuryo state claimed a much greater control over land and resources than any previous government had done or  been able to do.  Even if the 5th century sovereign Wakatakeru no Ohokimi, aka Yuryaku Tenno, had people at his court from Kyushu to Kanto, influence isn't the same as control.  Up until the Ritsuryo reforms, it appears that local administrators had a lot of leeway in terms of what happened in their local domains.  After all, what could Yamato do about it?  As long as “taxes” were paid, then there was no reason for Yamato to otherwise interfere with local events, and even if there were, who would they get to enforce their will? But In the Ritsuryo system, at least conceptually, the State had local governors who reported back to the central authority.  These governors  were set apart from the Kuni no Miyatsuko, the traditional local authority, and their income was tied to the court. Moreover, this system wasn't just tradition and the whims of the elites: it was codified in written laws and punishments.  In fact, the Record of the Fujiwara—the Toushi Kaden—claims that the entire legal code was written down in 668 by their patriarch, Nakatomi no Kamatari, prior to his death.  There are also other references to this compilation, known to us as the “Oumi Code”, referencing the region that the court had moved to:  Afumi, around Lake Biwa.  Unfortunately, we don't have any extant copies of what, exactly, the Code said, other than various laws explicitly noted in the Nihon Shoki.  Still, we can assume that it was probably similar to later codes, which would have been using the Oumi code as a base from which to work from. The new authority for this code descended from the throne, based on continental and even Confucian concepts of the State.  And Naka no Oe had no doubt been the one to help maintain continuity over the past three decades.  Now he was dead, so what came next? Well based on what we have in the Nihon Shoki, that should be obvious:  His brother, the Crown Prince, Ohoama, would take the throne, wouldn't he?  After all, he was the designated Crown Prince, and he had been in that role, promulgating orders, and otherwise acting as we might expect, at least since Naka no Oe had given up the position. And yet, it seems there was some doubt.  After all, while a brother—or sister—inheriting the throne was hardly unheard of, Naka no Oe did have children of his own.  Most importantly, there was his son, Prince Ohotomo.  Ohotomo was only about 23 years old, but he had been made the Dajoudaijin, the head of the Council of State, which one would think would put him in a position of tremendous authority. Naka no Oe apparently had some inkling that there could be a succession dispute upon his death.  And so, two months after he had taken ill, as it became painfully obvious that he might not recover, he called in his brother, Crown Prince Ohoama, and he told him clearly that it was his intention to have his brother succeed him on the throne. Before going much further, I would note that the entries in the Nihon Shoki that speak to this incident are spread across two different books in that chronicle.  Part of it takes part in the chronicle of Tenji Tennou (Naka no Oe), but then the reign of Temmu Tennou (Ohoama) is actually broken up into two books, the first of which is often considered the history of the Jinshin Ran, while the second is really Temmu's reign.  And in some cases we get slightly different versions of the same event.    The Nihon Shoki was written less than 50 years after the events being discussed, so likely by people who had actual memory of what happened, it was also propaganda for the regime in power at the time.  So as we read through the events, we have to be critical about our source and what it is telling us. To that end, I'll mostly start out with the narrative as it appears in the Nihon Shoki, and then we can look back and see what else might be going on if we make some assumptions that the Chroniclers may not be the most reliable of narrators for these events. Anyway, getting back to the story as we have it in the Nihon Shoki:  So the person sent to fetch Prince Ohoama to come see his brother, the sovereign, was a man by the name of Soga no Yasumaru.  And Yasumaru brought not only the summons, but a warning, as well.  He told Prince Ohoama to “think before you speak”.  This suggested to Ohoama that there was some kind of plot afoot. And lest we forget, for all that Naka no Oe is often put up on a pedestal for his role in the Taika reforms and founding the nation—even the posthumous name they gave him was the “Sovereign of Heavenly Wisdom”—that pedestal he stands on is covered in blood.  Naka no Oe's political career starts with the brazen murder of Soga no Iruka in full view of all the gathered nobility, and is immediately followed with him marshalling forces against Soga no Emishi, who set fire to his own house rather than surrender. And then, shortly into the Taika period, Naka no Oe had his own brother, Furubito no Oe, killed so that he wouldn't be a threat.  And later, when he just heard a rumor that Soga no Ishikawa no Maro—his father-in-law, Prime Minister of the Right, and co-conspirator—was having treasonous thoughts, he gathered up forces to have him and his family murdered. And though it may have been a bit less bloody, let's not forget his apparent falling out with his uncle, Karu, where he left the giant palace complex at Naniwa and took the entire royal family to Asuka against his uncle, the sovereign's, wishes. Add to that the note from the Fujiwara family records, the Toushi Kaden, about the party at the “shore pavilion” where Ohoama spiked a spear through a plank of wood which rattled Naka no Oe enough that he was contemplating having him taken out right there.  According to that account, it was only the intervention of Nakatomi no Kamatari that saved Ohoama's life.  Even if it weren't true, it likely illustrates something about how their relationship was viewed by others. Given all of that, I think we can understand how Ohoama might not be entirely trusting of his older brother's intentions.  So when that same brother offered him control of the government, Ohoama was suspicious.  Perhaps it was because he was already the Crown Prince, the expected heir, so why would Naka no Oe be offering him the throne?  Perhaps it was some kind of test of his loyalty? And so Prince Ohoama declined.  He claimed that he had always had bad health, and probably wouldn't be a good choice.  Instead, he put forward that the Queen, Yamatobime, should be given charge, and that Naka no Oe's son, Prince Ohotomo, should be installed as the Crown Prince—the new successor to the throne.  Furthermore, to demonstrate his resolve, he asked to be allowed to renounce the world and become a monk. Indeed, immediately after the audience with his brother, Prince Ohoama went to the Buddhist hall in the palace itself and had his head shaved and took holy orders.  He even gave up any private weapons that he might have—likely meaning not just his personal weapons, but any private forces that might be under his command.  The sovereign himself sent his brother a kesa or clerical garment, apparently approving of—or at least accepting—his decision. Two days later, Prince Ohoama went back to his brother and asked to be allowed to leave for Yoshino to go and practice Buddhism there.  He was given permission and he headed out.  The ministers of the left and right, that is Soga no Akae and Nakatomi no Kane, along with Soga no Hatayasu, a “Dainagon” or Chief Counselor, and others, all traveled with him all the way to Uji, where they saw him off.  By evening he had made it as far as the Shima Palace, which is assumed to have been in Asuka—possibly at or near the site of the old Soga residence.  The following day he was in Yoshino. Arriving at Yoshino with his household, Prince Ohoama gave his servants a choice—those who wished could take orders and stay with him in Yoshino.  Those with ambitions at the court, though, were allowed to return back to Ohotsu, presumably going to work for another family.  At first, none of them wanted to leave his side, but he beseeched them a second time, and half of them decided to stay and become monks with him while half of them left, returning to the court. As we mentioned earlier, another royal prince—and possibly crown prince—had taken a similar option back in the year 645.  That was Prince Furubito no Oe, half-brother to Naka no Oe and Ohoama.  We talked about that back in episode 109.  As with that time, taking Buddhist orders and retiring from the world was meant to demonstrate that the individual was renouncing any claims on the throne and was no longer a threat to the succession. The Nihon Shoki notes, though, that as Prince Ohoama was leaving Uji, some commented that it was like the saying: “Give a tiger wings and let him go.”  The first part of that is no doubt referencing a saying still used in Mandarin, today:  “Rúhǔtiānyì” or “Yǔhǔtiānyì, meaning to “add wings to a tiger”—in other words to take something strong and make it even more powerful.  In this case, the choice to renounce the succession and leave court made Ohoama more powerful and then set him free to do what he wanted. There is a lot of speculation around what actually happened.  Prince Ohotomo had only recently come of age and been given the important position of Dajo Daijin.  Still, he was also only 23 years old.  Now, granted, Naka no Oe hadn't been much older, himself, when he instigated the Isshi Incident, but most sovereigns aren't mentioned as having come to the throne themselves until they were maybe 30 years old or more.  Still, there is at least one theory that suggests that Naka no Oe wanted to have his brother, Ohoama, step aside and let Ohotomo take the throne.  According to that theory, his request for Ohoama to succeed him as ruler eas a ruse to get Ohoama to admit his own ambition, which Naka no Oe could then use as a pretext to get rid of his brother. There is another theory that Naka no Oe wanted Ohoama to step in as effectively regent:  Ohoama would rule, but Ohotomo would then inherit after him. Ohoama's counterproposal is intriguing.  He suggested that the affairs of state should be given to Yamato-bime, Naka no Oe's queen, and that she should rule as regent until Ohotomo was ready.  Of course, we have examples of something like this, most recently from the previous reign.  Takara Hime came to the throne, originally, because her husband, who was the sovereign, passed away and their children were not yet of age to take the throne.  However, there is something interesting, here in the relationship between Yamato Bime and Ohotomo.  Because while Yamato Bime was the queen, and daughter, herself, of Furubito no Oe, Ohotomo was not clearly of the proper parentage.  He was not Yamato Bime's son – she had no children herself - , but  his mother was simply a “palace woman” named “Iga no Uneme no Yakako”.  This suggests that she was an uneme from Iga named Yakako, and we are given no details about her parentage.    She is also listed as the last of Naka no Oe's consorts, suggesting to the reader that she was the lowest in status. For this reason Ohotomo is known as the Iga Royal Prince, Iga no Miko. Of course, there are plenty of reasons why the Chroniclers might not want to give any glory to Prince Ohotomo or his mother.  After all, the story works out best if Ohoama should have just been the sovereign all along.  And this could all be technically true—the best kind of true—while also omitting key details so that the reader draws a certain inference.  The Chroniclers were pulling from lots of different sources, and you didn't have to do a lot of changing things when you could just not put them in in the first place.  In other cases we know that they changed the records, because we see them using anachronistic language that doesn't make sense if drawn from a contemporary record. And so we have at least a couple of theories of what might be going on here, beyond just the straight narrative.   One idea is that Naka no Oe wanted Ohotomo to inherit all along, and perhaps he thought Ohoama could be a regent to help him out once Naka no Oe passed away.  Or maybe he just wanted Ohoama out of the way.  There is also the theory that the Nihon Shoki is, in fact, correct, that Naka no Oe wanted to give the state to Ohoama, but the latter refused, either misunderstanding Naka no Oe's intentions or perhaps gauging the feeling at court—perhaps it wasn't Naka no Oe that Ohoama was worried about, but rather some of the high nobles and officials?   It is probably telling that Ohoama's reported solution was to have Yamato-bime act as regent, with Ohotomo eventually inheriting. Whatever the actual reason, Ohoama declined Ohoama headed off to self-imposed exile in Yoshino. Meanwhile, back in Afumi in the Ohotsu capital, Ohotsu-kyo, Ohotomo was now the de facto Crown Prince.  We are told that on the 23rd day of the 11th month of 671 he took his place in front of the embroidery figure of Buddha in the Western Hall of the Dairi, the royal quarters of the Ohotsu Palace.  He was attended by the Minister of the Left, Soga no Akaye, the Minister of the Right, Nakatomi no Kane, as well as Soga no Hatayasu, Kose no Hito, and Ki no Ushi.  Taking up an incense burner, Ohotomo made a vow that the six of them would obey the sovereign's commands, lest they be punished by the various Buddhist and local deities. These five ministers, along with Ohotomo, are going to show up again and again.   Moving forward, they would manage the government, and would be generally referred to as the Afumi court. And it is clear that the Chroniclers laid the blame for anything that might happen at their feet. The Afumi court would continue court business as usual, and they were immediately thrown into the thick of it.  For instance, they were likely the ones to entertain the Tang envoys that arrived that same month.  You see, the priest Douku (or possibly “Doubun”), along with Tsukushi no Kimi no Satsuyama, Karashima no Suguri no Sasa, and Nunoshi no Obito no Iwa, had finally made it back from their journey to the mainland.  They brought with them Guo Wucong along with an embassy from the Tang court that numbered approximately 600 members, as well as ambassador Sathek Sonteung, of Silla, with his own embassy of about 1400 people. This enormous entourage sailed in 47 ships, and they had anchored at the island of Hijishima.   The Governor of Tsushima, responsible for being the first line of met with them.  Given then number fo ships, they didn't want it to look like it was a hostile invasion, so the governor sent a letter to  Prince Kurikuma, the viceroy of Tsukushi, to let him know what was happening.  Prince Kurikuma had them send Doubun and others ahead to the capital, so that they could let the court know that a massive embassy had arrived, and to prepare the way for them. However, with the sovereign in extremely poor health, and the court otherwise preoccupied with preparations for what might come next, , they kept the embassy at Tsukushi, for the time being.  We are told that that they sent presents on the 29th for the king of Silla, but no indication of them being brought to the court. Enormous foreign embassies aside, the Afumi court had plenty to deal with close to home.  It didn't help that the day after Ohotomo and the ministers had gathered to make their oaths, a fire broke out in the Ohotsu palace, apparently originating with the third storehouse of the treasury.    Several days later, the five ministers, attending the Crown Prince, Ohotomo, made oaths of loyalty in the presence of Naka no Oe, whose condition was only growing worse.  And four days later, on the third day of the fourth month, Naka no Oe passed away.  He was then temporarily interred in what is referred to as the “New Palace”. And contrary to what Ohoama had suggested, there is no indication that Queen Yamato-bime was installed as any kind of regent.  Instead it seems as if Ohotomo was just jumping in and taking the reins.  Granted, he also had the Council of State to lean on, so there's that.  The Chronicles are pretty quiet for a couple of months after Naka no Oe's death, and then we are told that Adzumi no Muraji no Inashiki was sent to Tsukushi to let the Tang ambassador Guo Wucong know the news.  We are told that on the 18th day of the 3rd month, Guo Wucong, I presume having made it to Ohotsu, publicly mourned the late sovereign.  Three days later, on the 21st, he made obeisance at the court, presumably to Ohotomo, and offered up a box with a letter from the Tang emperor and various presents in token of goodwill for the sovereign of Yamato.  A couple of months later, the Afumi court returned the favor, presenting armor, bows, and arrows as well as cloth, floss, and silk.  Later in that same 5th month, Guo Wucong and his people departed for the continent. And here is where we hit one of the big questions of this whole thing:  Had Ohotomo been formally invested as sovereign, yet?  We clearly see that he had his father's ministers on his side, and they were running things.  Then again, it took years after Takara Hime's death before Naka no Oe, himself, formally stepped up. It is quite possible that Ohotomo was not yet invested, and perhaps that was, in part, because there was another person with a claim who was still alive.  It is hard to say. What we do know is that the consensus opinion for centuries was that Ohotomo was never formally invested as sovereign.  He is certainly seen as having inherited the governance of the kingdom, but he was never considered one of the official sovereigns.  That all changed in relatively recent times.  In fact, it wasn't until 1870, the early years of the Meiji period, that Prince Ohotomo was given a posthumous title and regnal name:  Koubun Tennou.  Today, the Imperial Household Agency and some historians consider Ohotomo to have been an official sovereign, but that isn't everyone.  If he was, though, much what we see would have been happening at his court. That same month that Guo Wucong departed, Prince Ohoama got wind that something hinky was afoot.  Ohoama was residing as a monk in Yoshino, but by all accounts he still had half of his household staff, his wives, and family, all with him.  Also, as the former Crown Prince, he clearly had friends and allies.  After all, he was still a member of the royal household. And so it was in the 5th month that he heard from one Yenewi no Muraji no Wogimi that there was something amiss.  For one thing, the Afumi court had called up laborers to build the tomb for Naka no Oe, but word was that they had issued those so-called laborers with weapons rather than tools.  Wogimi seemed worried that they were preparing to do something about Ohoama.  After all, even though he had theoretically retired from the world, as long as he was alive, he still had a claim on the throne, similar to the problem of Prince Furubito no Oe back in 645. Someone else told Ohoama that they noticed pickets were being set up in various places between the Afumi and Yamato—another sign that the Afumi court was apparently expecting some kind of military action.  Furthermore, the guards at the Uji bridge were no longer allowing supplies bound for Yoshino and Ohoama's household. It seemed clear that something was up, and so Ohoama made an announcement:  while he had renounced the royal dignity and retired from the world, it was only because of his poor health and a desire to live a long and happy life.  If that life was being threatened by forces outside of his control, then why would he let himself be taken quietly? From that point, he seems to have started plotting and gathering  forces of his own, in case things came to a head.  Of course, there are those who suggest that, in truth, Ohoama had been plotting and raising forces ever since he started his exile in Yoshino—or at least since his father passed away.  Indeed, once things kick off, you'll notice how quickly people are levying troops, as if spontaneously deciding to support Ohoama's cause, and I would suggest that there was probably lot of back and forth that we just don't see because it was never recorded. Things reached a tipping point on the 22nd day of the 6th month.  That is when Ohoama gave orders to three of his vassals, Murakami no Muraji no Woyori, Wanibe no Omi no Kimide, and Muketsu no Kimi no Hiro.  He claimed that the Afumi Court was plotting against him, so he asked his vassals to go to the land of Mino—modern Gifu prefecture—and to reach out to Oho no Omi no Honeji, the governor of the Ahachima district hot springs—now the area of Anpachi.  Honeji was to levy soldiers and set them out on the Fuwa road—this was the road from Mino to Afumi, and was one of the few ways in and out of Afumi region. As we've mentioned in the past, the benefit of Ohotsu-kyo was its naturally defended position.  Lake Biwa is surrounded on all sides by mountains, and there were only a few ways in and out.  The Fuwa Pass is at the edge of a location that you may have heard of: today we know that region as Sekigahara.  That is because it was one of several seki, or barriers, set up to help check movements across the archipelago.  To the south, one could also use the Suzuka pass, where there would likewise be set up the Suzuka no Seki, or Suzuka barrier.  Suzuka was accessible from Afumi via the regions of Koga and Iga.  There was also the Afusaka no Seki, between Afumi and the area of modern Kyoto, and the Arachi no Seki, between Afumi and Tsuruga, on the Japan Sea—where many of the Goguryeo missions had arrived. Of these, the Afusaka barrier and the Fuwa barrier were probably the most well known and most heavily traveled.  Control of the Fuwa pass would be critical throughout Japan's history, controlling much of the traffic between eastern and western Japan.  Hence why, over 900 years later, another fight would come to a head here, as the battle of Sekigahara would see Tokugawa Ieyasu's eastern forces defeating the western army of Ishida Mitsunari.  That battle is seen as a decisive victory that birthed the Tokugawa shogunate, who would rule Japan for the next 250 years. So for Ohoama, having Honeji and his men take control of the Fuwa barrier was critical, as it would limit the Afumi court's ability to levy forces in the eastern provinces. A few days later, Ohoama was himself about to move out,  but his advisors stopped him.  They were worried about heading east without an army, yet.  Ohoama agreed, and he wished that he hadn't sent Woyori out just yet—Woyori was someone he trusted, militarily.  Instead, however, he had to make do.  And so he had Ohokida no Kimi no Yesaka, Kibumi no Muraji no Ohotomo, and Afu no Omi no Shima go to Prince Takasaka, who was in charge of the Wokamoto Palace in Asuka, and apply for posting bells—the tokens that would allow him and others use the various official post stations to supply them with provisions as they traveled.  Speaking of this palace,  although the court had moved to Ohotsu, a palace was maintained in Asuka.  After all, this was still seen as the “ancient capital” and the home to a lot of powerful families, so it makes sense that the royal family kept the palace in working order.  It also appears to have functioned as the local government headquarters for the region, with Prince Takasaka, or Takasaka no Ou, at its head. Asking for the posting bells was a test by Ohoama.  If he received them, then great, it would give him the ability to travel to the east, where he could presumably raise troops to protect himself.  However, if Prince Takasaka refused, then that would be a sign that the Afumi government had, indeed, sent word that Ohoama was not supposed to go anywhere.  If that was to happen, then Afu no Shima would return to Yoshino to let Ohoama know, while Ohokida no Yesaka would go to Afumi to tell Ohoama's sons, Prince Takechi and Prince Ohotsu, to make haste and meet him in Ise. Sure enough, Prince Takasaka refused the posting bells, and so, on the 24th of the 6th month, Prince Ohoama made the decision to move.  They left quickly—he didn't even let anyone saddle a horse for him or prepare his carriage.  He just started to head out on foot on a journey to the East. That journey would set in motion the coming conflagration.  Ohoama and his allies would quickly gather their forces in an incredibly short period of time, starting with a daring trek across the mountainous path between Yoshino and the land of Ise.  At the same time, the Afumi court would levy their own forces.  It was now a race for people and positions.  And to see how that race progressed, I'll ask you to tune in next episode, when we take a look at the opening moves in the war for the throne of Yamato.Until then, thank you once again for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

My guest for Episode #529 of the Lean Blog Interviews Podcast is Scott Gauvin, CEO of Macresco and co-creator of the Respect for People Roadmap. Episode page with video, transcript, and more With 30 years of experience leading operational transformations across sectors including biotech, pharma, agriculture, and manufacturing, Scott brings both a systems mindset and a people-first philosophy to his work. His journey into Lean began with frustration over leadership that blamed people rather than fixing systems—sparking a personal quest to better integrate continuous improvement with what he calls the “practice” of respect for people. In this episode, Scott shares the evolution of his thinking and how it culminated in the Respect for People Roadmap, a structured learning experience designed to operationalize cultural change through nine actionable behaviors. We explore the difference between “respecting people” as an individual action and “respect for people” as a system-level design principle. Scott also challenges the common notion that respect must be earned, arguing instead that every human being is inherently worthy of it—an idea rooted in his research on Confucian influences within Toyota's founding culture. This conversation is a must-listen for anyone struggling to move beyond Lean tools and truly build a culture of continuous improvement grounded in human dignity. We also touch on how these ideas align with the Shingo Model, why so many transformations fail to stick, and how organizations can design systems that scale respect—without waiting for permission from the top. Check the links below to learn more and access Scott's free “test drive” version of the Roadmap. Questions, Notes, and Highlights: What's your origin story with Lean and operational excellence? What drew you to explore the “respect for people” pillar more deeply? How do you distinguish between “respect for people” and “respecting people”? Why do so many interpretations of “respect” default to hierarchy or politeness? How should leaders approach differences in how individuals define respect? Is it a mistake to assume respect must be earned rather than given? What are your thoughts on the phrase “better to be respected than liked”? How do challenge, kaizen, and respect interrelate in Toyota thinking? What did your research uncover about Confucianism's influence on Lean? How does the concept of “respect for people” show up in system design? What inspired the creation of the Respect for People Roadmap? What are the three key behavioral principles embedded in the Roadmap? What makes this program scalable and sustainable across organizations? Why was it important that the nine behaviors require no leader permission? How do you respond to the idea that “respect for people” should be translated as “respect for humanity”? Are you looking to pilot the Roadmap in healthcare settings? What would transformation look like if it were truly resilient—not dependent on a single leader This podcast is part of the #LeanCommunicators network. 

Send us a textAfter the Noron and Soron slaughter of 1721–22, Joseon lay fractured. When Prince Yeoning ascended as King Yeongjo, he resolved to break the cycle. Through calculated pardons, strategic reshuffles, Confucian exhortations against in-group politics, and reforms of the powerful Ministry of Personnel and private schools, Yeongjo pursued an uneasy peace. Yet rival camps continued scheming even as he sought “Impartiality.” This episode unpacks Yeongjo's high-stakes gambit to tame factionalism and why, despite his best efforts, Joseon's scholar-officials remained as divided as ever.https://patreon.com/darksideofseoulTop Tier PatronsAngel EarlJoel BonominiDevon HiphnerGabi PalominoSteve MarshEva SikoraRon ChangMitchy BrewerHunter WinterCecilia Löfgren DumasAshley WrightGeorge IrionKwang Ja MoonEdward BradfordBoram YoonChad Struhs Korea's #1 ghost and dark history walking tour. Book at DarkSideOfSeoul.com Get your comic at DarkSideOfSeoul.comSupport the showJoin our Patreon to get more stuff https://patreon.com/darksideofseoul Book a tour of The Dark Side of Seoul Ghost Walk at https://darksideofseoul.com Pitch your idea here. https://www.darksideofseoul.com/expats-of-the-wild-east/ Credits Produced by Joe McPherson and Shawn Morrissey Music by Soraksan Top tier Patrons Angel EarlJoel BonominiDevon HiphnerGabi PalominoSteve MarshEva SikoraRon ChangMackenzie MooreHunter WinterCecilia Löfgren DumasJosephine RydbergDevin BuchananAshley WrightGeorge Irion Facebook Page | Instagram

The Doctrine of the Mean (Chinese: 中庸, Pinyin: Zhōngyōng, Korean: 중용, Japanese: 中庸, Vietnamese: Trung Dung) is also one of the Four Books (四書) of Confucianism. It consists of 33 chapters attributed to Zisi (子思), the only grandson of Confucius, with interspersed notes by Zhu Xi. Zhu Xi's master, Cheng Yi, says, "Being without inclination to either side is called Zhong; admitting of no change is called Yong. By Zhong is denoted the correct course to be pursued by all under heaven; by Yong is denoted the fixed principle regulating all under heaven. This work contains the law of the mind, which was handed down from one to another, in the Confucian school, till Zisi, fearing lest in the course of time errors should arise about it, committed it to writing, and delivered it to Mencius. The book first speaks of one principle; it next spreads this out, and embraces all things; finally, it returns and gathers them all up under the one principle. Unroll it, and it fills the universe; roll it up, and it retires and lies hid in mysteriousness. The relish of it is inexhaustible. The whole of it is solid learning. When the skillful reader has explored it with delight till he has apprehended it, he may carry it into practice all his life, and will find that it cannot be exhausted." Scottish translator James Legge was a Hong Kong missionary, Nonconformist pastor of the English Union Church, and the first professor of Chinese studies at Oxford University. Cover: Queen Mother of the West Visits Confucius by cartoonist Robin Bougie (2025), released by him into the public domain.

In this intimate conversation hosted at Don't Look Projects for her solo show By the Company They Keep, the Chenhung Chen traces a path from formative memories of classroom murals in Taiwan to a tactile, spiritually inflected sculptural practice rooted in the poetics of material and memory. Drawing on a lifetime of cross-cultural experience—born in Taiwan, educated in New York at the School of Visual Arts, and now based in California—Chen reflects on the diasporic transformations that shaped her worldview, her practice, and her understanding of artistic responsibility. Over the course of the episode, she speaks candidly about the lasting impact of calligraphy, the subtle power of Taoist and Confucian thought, and the slow labor of crochet and wire weaving as acts of embodied meditation. Her early engagement with Chinese ink painting, which emphasizes the expressive qualities of line and brushstroke, has evolved into three-dimensional constructions made from recycled electrical wires and cables—materials charged both with literal energy and symbolic resonance. The conversation explores the artist's conceptual relationship to “order and chaos,” how her sculptural forms emerge from stream-of-consciousness gestures, and the intuitive logic behind her use of nontraditional materials. She discusses how her experiences as a medical and legal interpreter have revealed the porous boundaries between cultures and languages, underscoring the interconnectedness of all people. Throughout, she emphasizes the importance of embracing contradiction, translating cultural tension into visual rhythm, and honoring what she describes as “the inner world”—a central tenet of her creative methodology. Themes of hybridity, displacement, and the invisible labor of women recur throughout the dialogue, as the artist describes her attraction to utilitarian crafts like crochet and basketry, her reverence for nature, and her use of everyday materials—paper, staples, hair, and cables—as repositories of lived experience. The result is a body of work that operates like a visual diary: both diaristic and durational, deeply rooted in personal memory and shaped by global histories. From reflections on the Cultural Revolution and Renaissance painting to the pandemic-era shift toward domestic intimacy, this episode offers a nuanced meditation on what it means to make art across geographies, traditions, and states of being. For Chenhung Chen, to create is to process—an act of digestion as much as construction. “Everything I see, I take in,” she says. “And then it comes out.” — Listen now on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or your preferred platform.

Most big goals in life require sustained effort and long-term patience. Be guided as you connect with your deeper aspirations, understanding that growth and mastery take time. Ancient Wisdom Weave: Inspired by Confucian ethics on persistent self-cultivation and the enduring commitment to virtue and lifelong learning. THIS WEEK'S THEME: "The Patient Heart: Cultivating Inner Stillness" Welcome to "The Patient Heart: Cultivating Inner Stillness," a 7-part meditation series designed to help you rediscover the profound power and peace found in patience. In a world that often demands instant gratification, true tranquility lies in our ability to wait, to observe, and to trust in the natural unfolding of life. Drawing upon the timeless wisdom of ancient traditions, this series will guide you to cultivate patience not as passive waiting, but as an active, compassionate engagement with the present moment. Each episode offers a unique lens to understand and embody this vital virtue, fostering inner resilience and a deeper connection to the rhythm of existence. YOUR MEDITATION JOURNEY DURING THIS WEEK'S SERIES This is episode 6 of a 7-day meditation series titled, "The Patient Heart: Cultivating Inner Stillness" episodes 3311-3316. Day 1:  Patience Visualization Day 2:  Patience Affirmation: "I unfold with patience, presence, and peace." Day 3:  Patience Breathing Visualization Day 4:  Lotus Mudra for Patience Day 5:  Fourth Chakra focus for Patience Day 6:  Patience flow meditation combining the week's techniques. Day 7:  Weekly review meditation and closure. WEEKLY CHALLENGE: The Pause Pivot Challenge THE PAUSE (Awareness): When you feel that familiar tug of impatience (the urge to rush, frustration, annoyance, a sigh, tapping your foot, etc.), immediately internally say to yourself: "Aha! A Patience Opportunity!" Take one deep, intentional breath. Notice the sensations in your body and mind without judgment. This is your "Pause." THE PIVOT (Choice): After that single breath, consciously choose a patient response, even if it's small. This isn't about solving the problem instantly, but shifting your internal state. SHARE YOUR MEDITATION JOURNEY WITH YOUR FELLOW MEDITATORS   Let's connect and inspire each other! Please share a little about how meditation has helped you by reaching out to me at Mary@SipandOm.com or better yet -- direct message me at https://www.instagram.com/sip.and.om. We'd love to hear about your meditation ritual!  SUBSCRIBE, LEAVE A REVIEW + TAKE OUR SURVEY SUBSCRIBE so you don't miss a single episode. Consistency is the KEY to a successful meditation ritual. SHARE the podcast with someone who could use a little extra support. I'd be honored if you left me a podcast review. If you do, please email me at Mary@sipandom.com and let me know a little about yourself and how meditation has helped you. I'd love to share your journey to inspire fellow meditators on the podcast! SURVEY: Help us get to know more about how best to serve you by taking our demographics survey: https://survey.libsyn.com/thedailymeditationpodcast FOR DAILY EXTRA SUPPORT OUTSIDE THE PODCAST Each day's meditation techniques posted at: sip.and.om Instagram https://www.instagram.com/sip.and.om/ sip and om Facebook https://www.facebook.com/SipandOm/ A DIFFERENT MEDITATION TECHNIQUE EVERY DAY FOCUSED ON A WEEKLY THEME: Get ready for an exciting journey with a new meditation technique daily, perfectly tailored to the week's theme! Infuse these powerful practices into the most stressful moments of your day to master difficult emotions. These dynamic techniques will help you tame the "monkey mind," keeping your thoughts from interrupting your meditation and bringing peace and focus to your life. FREE TOOLS: For free meditation tools to help you meditate please head over to my website at www.SipandOm.com, and there you'll find free resources to help you on your Meditation Journey. Enjoy access to more than 3,000 guided meditations without ads on the Sip and Om app. Try it for 7 days of free access to the full app! Listen on iTunes for 1-Week Free! https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/sip-and-om/id1216664612?platform=iphone&preserveScrollPosition=true#platform/iphone   1-week Free Access to the Android app! https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.sipandom.sipandom   ***All meditations are Mary Meckley's original copyrighted content unless otherwise stated, and may not be shared without her written permission.   RESOURCES Music composed by Christopher Lloyd Clark licensed by RoyaltyFreeMusic.com, and also by musician Greg Keller.   I'D LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU I'd love your feedback! Please let me know how you're enjoying the meditations by leaving me a review on iTunes.   **All of the information shared on this podcast is for your enjoyment only. Please don't consider the meditation techniques, herbal tea information, or other information shared by Mary Meckley or any of her guests as a replacement for any medical or psychological treatment. That being said, please enjoy any peace, energy, or clarity you may experience as you meditate. SHARE YOUR MEDITATION JOURNEY WITH YOUR FELLOW MEDITATORS   Let's connect and inspire each other! Please share a little about how meditation has helped you by reaching out to me at Mary@SipandOm.com or better yet -- direct message me at https://www.instagram.com/sip.and.om. We'd love to hear about your meditation ritual!  SUBSCRIBE, LEAVE A REVIEW + TAKE OUR SURVEY SUBSCRIBE so you don't miss a single episode. Consistency is the KEY to a successful meditation ritual. SHARE the podcast with someone who could use a little extra support. I'd be honored if you left me a podcast review. If you do, please email me at Mary@sipandom.com and let me know a little about yourself and how meditation has helped you. I'd love to share your journey to inspire fellow meditators on the podcast! SURVEY: Help us get to know more about how best to serve you by taking our demographics survey: https://survey.libsyn.com/thedailymeditationpodcast FOR DAILY EXTRA SUPPORT OUTSIDE THE PODCAST Each day's meditation techniques posted at: sip.and.om Instagram https://www.instagram.com/sip.and.om/ sip and om Facebook https://www.facebook.com/SipandOm/ A DIFFERENT MEDITATION TECHNIQUE EVERY DAY FOCUSED ON A WEEKLY THEME: Get ready for an exciting journey with a new meditation technique daily, perfectly tailored to the week's theme! Infuse these powerful practices into the most stressful moments of your day to master difficult emotions. These dynamic techniques will help you tame the "monkey mind," keeping your thoughts from interrupting your meditation and bringing peace and focus to your life. FREE TOOLS: For free meditation tools to help you meditate please head over to my website at www.SipandOm.com, and there you'll find free resources to help you on your Meditation Journey. Enjoy access to more than 3,000 guided meditations without ads on the Sip and Om app. Try it for 7 days of free access to the full app! Listen on iTunes for 1-Week Free! https://itunes.apple.com/us/app/sip-and-om/id1216664612?platform=iphone&preserveScrollPosition=true#platform/iphone   1-week Free Access to the Android app! https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.sipandom.sipandom   ***All meditations are Mary Meckley's original copyrighted content unless otherwise stated, and may not be shared without her written permission.   RESOURCES Music composed by Christopher Lloyd Clark licensed by RoyaltyFreeMusic.com, and also by musician Greg Keller.   I'D LOVE TO HEAR FROM YOU I'd love your feedback! Please let me know how you're enjoying the meditations by leaving me a review on iTunes.   **All of the information shared on this podcast is for your enjoyment only. Please don't consider the meditation techniques, herbal tea information, or other information shared by Mary Meckley or any of her guests as a replacement for any medical or psychological treatment. That being said, please enjoy any peace, energy, or clarity you may experience as you meditate.  

Forget everything you thought you knew about pirates—because this week, we're telling the real story of the woman who ran the South China Sea and left Blackbeard in the dust. Meet Zheng Yi Sao: sex worker turned pirate queen, ruthless businesswoman, and literal nightmare of the Qing Dynasty. In this wild ride through 18th-century China, you'll hear how a nameless girl from a fishing village built the most powerful pirate confederation the world has ever seen—and retired with her head (and fortune) intact. TLDR: She didn't die in battle. She negotiated her way out and opened a salt empire. Iconic. ⏱️ What You'll Hear The Origins – How a Tonka girl outsmarted a pirate king and negotiated her way into power Fleet Boss Moves – Zheng Yi Sao's brutal pirate code (decapitations included) Protection Rackets & Political Games – When piracy meets mafia tactics and government bribes The Retirement Plot Twist – Why this pirate queen walked away, rich and respected Legacy – Her influence on Pirates of the Caribbean, feminist history, and pop culture

In Strangers in the Family: Gender, Patriliny, and the Chinese in Colonial Indonesia (SAPP, 2023), Guo-Quan Seng provides a gendered history of settler Chinese community formation in Indonesia during the Dutch colonial period (1816–1942). At the heart of this story lies the creolization of patrilineal Confucian marital and familial norms to the colonial legal, moral, and sexual conditions of urban Java. Departing from male-centered narratives of overseas Chinese communities, Strangers in the Family tells the history of community- formation from the perspective of women who were subordinate to, and alienated from, full Chinese selfhood. From native concubines and mothers, creole Chinese daughters, and wives and matriarchs, to the first generation of colonial-educated feminists, Seng showcases women's moral agency as they negotiated, manipulated, and debated men in positions of authority over their rights in marriage formation and dissolution. In dialogue with critical studies of colonial Eurasian intimacies, this book explores Asian-centered inter-ethnic patterns of intimate encounters. It shows how contestations over women's place in marriage and in society were formative of a Chinese racial identity in colonial Indonesia. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In Strangers in the Family: Gender, Patriliny, and the Chinese in Colonial Indonesia (SAPP, 2023), Guo-Quan Seng provides a gendered history of settler Chinese community formation in Indonesia during the Dutch colonial period (1816–1942). At the heart of this story lies the creolization of patrilineal Confucian marital and familial norms to the colonial legal, moral, and sexual conditions of urban Java. Departing from male-centered narratives of overseas Chinese communities, Strangers in the Family tells the history of community- formation from the perspective of women who were subordinate to, and alienated from, full Chinese selfhood. From native concubines and mothers, creole Chinese daughters, and wives and matriarchs, to the first generation of colonial-educated feminists, Seng showcases women's moral agency as they negotiated, manipulated, and debated men in positions of authority over their rights in marriage formation and dissolution. In dialogue with critical studies of colonial Eurasian intimacies, this book explores Asian-centered inter-ethnic patterns of intimate encounters. It shows how contestations over women's place in marriage and in society were formative of a Chinese racial identity in colonial Indonesia. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In Strangers in the Family: Gender, Patriliny, and the Chinese in Colonial Indonesia (SAPP, 2023), Guo-Quan Seng provides a gendered history of settler Chinese community formation in Indonesia during the Dutch colonial period (1816–1942). At the heart of this story lies the creolization of patrilineal Confucian marital and familial norms to the colonial legal, moral, and sexual conditions of urban Java. Departing from male-centered narratives of overseas Chinese communities, Strangers in the Family tells the history of community- formation from the perspective of women who were subordinate to, and alienated from, full Chinese selfhood. From native concubines and mothers, creole Chinese daughters, and wives and matriarchs, to the first generation of colonial-educated feminists, Seng showcases women's moral agency as they negotiated, manipulated, and debated men in positions of authority over their rights in marriage formation and dissolution. In dialogue with critical studies of colonial Eurasian intimacies, this book explores Asian-centered inter-ethnic patterns of intimate encounters. It shows how contestations over women's place in marriage and in society were formative of a Chinese racial identity in colonial Indonesia. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/gender-studies

In Strangers in the Family: Gender, Patriliny, and the Chinese in Colonial Indonesia (SAPP, 2023), Guo-Quan Seng provides a gendered history of settler Chinese community formation in Indonesia during the Dutch colonial period (1816–1942). At the heart of this story lies the creolization of patrilineal Confucian marital and familial norms to the colonial legal, moral, and sexual conditions of urban Java. Departing from male-centered narratives of overseas Chinese communities, Strangers in the Family tells the history of community- formation from the perspective of women who were subordinate to, and alienated from, full Chinese selfhood. From native concubines and mothers, creole Chinese daughters, and wives and matriarchs, to the first generation of colonial-educated feminists, Seng showcases women's moral agency as they negotiated, manipulated, and debated men in positions of authority over their rights in marriage formation and dissolution. In dialogue with critical studies of colonial Eurasian intimacies, this book explores Asian-centered inter-ethnic patterns of intimate encounters. It shows how contestations over women's place in marriage and in society were formative of a Chinese racial identity in colonial Indonesia. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

In Strangers in the Family: Gender, Patriliny, and the Chinese in Colonial Indonesia (SAPP, 2023), Guo-Quan Seng provides a gendered history of settler Chinese community formation in Indonesia during the Dutch colonial period (1816–1942). At the heart of this story lies the creolization of patrilineal Confucian marital and familial norms to the colonial legal, moral, and sexual conditions of urban Java. Departing from male-centered narratives of overseas Chinese communities, Strangers in the Family tells the history of community- formation from the perspective of women who were subordinate to, and alienated from, full Chinese selfhood. From native concubines and mothers, creole Chinese daughters, and wives and matriarchs, to the first generation of colonial-educated feminists, Seng showcases women's moral agency as they negotiated, manipulated, and debated men in positions of authority over their rights in marriage formation and dissolution. In dialogue with critical studies of colonial Eurasian intimacies, this book explores Asian-centered inter-ethnic patterns of intimate encounters. It shows how contestations over women's place in marriage and in society were formative of a Chinese racial identity in colonial Indonesia. Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/southeast-asian-studies

In Strangers in the Family: Gender, Patriliny, and the Chinese in Colonial Indonesia (SAPP, 2023), Guo-Quan Seng provides a gendered history of settler Chinese community formation in Indonesia during the Dutch colonial period (1816–1942). At the heart of this story lies the creolization of patrilineal Confucian marital and familial norms to the colonial legal, moral, and sexual conditions of urban Java. Departing from male-centered narratives of overseas Chinese communities, Strangers in the Family tells the history of community- formation from the perspective of women who were subordinate to, and alienated from, full Chinese selfhood. From native concubines and mothers, creole Chinese daughters, and wives and matriarchs, to the first generation of colonial-educated feminists, Seng showcases women's moral agency as they negotiated, manipulated, and debated men in positions of authority over their rights in marriage formation and dissolution. In dialogue with critical studies of colonial Eurasian intimacies, this book explores Asian-centered inter-ethnic patterns of intimate encounters. It shows how contestations over women's place in marriage and in society were formative of a Chinese racial identity in colonial Indonesia. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/chinese-studies

Following the death of Takara Hime, and the war on the Korean peninsula, Naka no Ōe was taking hold--or perhaps keeping hold--of the reins of government.  He wasn't finished with his changes to the government.  He also had a new threat--the Tang Empire.  They had destroyed Yamato's ally, Baekje, and defeated the Yamato forces on the peninsula.  While the Tang then turned their attention to Goguryeo, Yamato could easily be next.  The Tang had a foothold on the Korean peninsula, so they had a place to gather and launch a fleet, should they wish to bring Yamato into their empire. For more, especially to follow along with some of the names in this episode, check out our blogpost at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-125     Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 125: The Sovereign of Heavenly Wisdom The people of Baekje looked around at the strange and unfamiliar land.  They had fled a wartorn country, and they were happy to be alive, but refugee status was hardly a walk in the park.  Fortunately, they still knew how to farm the land, even if their homeland was hundreds of miles away, across the sea, and occupied by hostile forces.  Here, at least, was a land where they could make a home for themselves. Some of them had to wonder whether this was really permanent.  Was their situation just temporary until their kingdom was restored?  Or were they truly the last people of Baekje, and what would that mean? Either way, it would mean nothing if they didn't work the land and provide for their families.  And so, as with displaced people everywhere, they made the best of the situation.  They had been given land to work, and that was more than they could have asked for.  They might never return to Baekje, but perhaps they could keep a little of it alive for themselves and their descendants. Greetings, everyone, and welcome back.  Last episode we talked about the downfall of Baekje and the defeat of the Yamato forces at the battle of Hakusukinoe, also known as the Battle of Baekgang, in 663.  And yet, something else happened as well: the sovereign, Takara Hime, aka Saimei Tennou, died as the Yamato forces were setting out.  Immediately Prince Naka no Oe took the reins of government.  He would be known to later generations as Tenji Tennou, with Tenji meaning something like “Heavenly Wisdom”. Now Prince Naka no Oe has been in the forefront of many of our episodes so far, so I'd like to start this episode out with a recap of what we've heard about him so far, as all of this is important to remind ourselves of the complex political situation.  I'm going to be dropping – and recapping – a lot of names, but I'll have many of the key individuals listed on the podcast website for folks who want to follow along.  I would note that this episode is going to be a summary, with some extrapolation by me regarding what was actually happening.  Just remember that history, as we've seen time and again, is often more messy and chaotic than we like, and people are more complex than just being purely good or evil.  People rarely make their way to the top of any social hierarchy purely through their good deeds.  To start with, let's go back to before the year 645, when Naka no Oe instigated a coup against Soga no Iruka and Soga no Emishi.  In the Isshi Incident, covered in Episode 106, Naka no Oe had Soga no Iruka murdered in court, in front of his mother, Takara Hime, when she sat on the throne the first time.  And yet, though he could have taken the throne when she abdicated in apparent shock, he didn't.  Instead, he took the role of “Crown Prince”, but this wasn't him just sitting back.  In fact, evidence suggests that he used that position to keep a strong hand on the tiller of the ship of state. Prior to the Isshi Incident of 645, the rule of the Yamato sovereign had been eroded by noble court families.  These families, originally set up to serve the court and its administration, had come to dominate the political structures of the court.  The main branch of the Soga family, in particular, had found its way to power through a series of astute political marriages and the support of a new, foreign religion:  Buddhism.  Soga no Iname, Emishi's grandfather, had married his daughters to the sovereigns, and thus created closer ties between the Soga and the royal line.  He also helped ensure that the offspring of those marriages would be the ones to take over as future sovereigns.  Soga no Iname, himself took the position of Oho-omi, the Great Omi, or the Great Minister, the head of the other ministerial families.  As Prime Minister, he held great sway over the day-to-day running of the court, and execution of much of the administration.  Much of this was covered in previous episodes, but especially episodes 88, 90, 91, 92, 95, 98, 99, and 103. Soga no Umako, who succeeded his father as Oho-omi, was joined in his effort to administer the government by his grand-nephew, Prince Umayado, also known as Shotoku Taishi, son of Tachibana no Toyohi, aka Youmei Tennou, and thus grandson of Umako's sister, Kitashi-hime, and the sovereign known as Kimmei Tennou.  Umayado's aunt, sister to Tachibana no Toyohi, was Kashikiya Hime, or Suiko Tennou.  The three of them:  Soga no Umako, Prince Umayado, and Kashikiya Hime, together oversaw the development of Yamato and the spread of Buddhism.  Buddhism was also controversial at first, but they turned it into another source of ritual power for the state—ritual power that Soga no Umako, Prince Umayado, and even Kashikiya Hime were able to harvest for their own use. Unfortunately, the Crown Prince, Umayado, died before Kashikiya hime, suddenly leaving open the question of who would take the throne.  Soga no Umako himself, passed away two years before Kashikiya Hime.  When she in turn passed away, there was another struggle for the throne, this time between the descendants of Crown Prince Umayado and Soga no Umako.  Eventually, Soga no Umako's son and heir, Soga no Emishi, made sure that a more pliant sovereign, Prince Tamura, would take the throne, and Prince Umayado's own son, Prince Yamashiro no Oe, was cut out of the succession.  Soga no Emishi, serving as prime minister, effectively ran things much as his father had.  When Tamura diedhis queen, Takara Hime, took the throne, rather than passing it back to Umayado's line—no doubt with Emishi's blessing.  He was careful, however, not to provoke direct action against Yamashiro no Oe, possibly due to the reverence in which Yamashiro's father, Prince Umayado, aka the Buddhist Saint Shotoku Taishi, was held.  Meanwhile, Emishi appears to have been cultivating his grandson by way of Prince Tamura, Furubito no Oe, to eventually succeed to the throne, trying to duplicate what his own father Umako and even grandfather had been able to accomplish. Soga no Emishi's son, Soga no Iruka, was not quite so temperate, however.   Who would have thought that growing up at the top of the social hierarchy might make one feel a bit arrogant and entitled?   When Soga no Emishi was ill, Soga no Iruka took over as Prime Minister, and he didn't just stand back.  He decided that he needed to take out Furubito no Oe's competition, and so he went after Yamashiro no Oe and had him killed. Unfortunately for him, he apparently went too far.  There were already those who were not happy with the Soga family's close hold on power—or perhaps more appropriately, this particular line of the Soga family.  This kind of behavior allowed a group of discontented royals and nobility to gain support. According to the popular story recounted in the Nihon Shoki, the primary seed of resistance started with a game of kickball, or kemari.  Nakatomi no Kamako, aka Nakatomi no Kamatari, was the scion of his house, which was dedicated to the worship of the traditional kami of Yamato.  The Nakatomi were ritualists: in charge of chanting ritual prayers, or norito, during court ceremony.  This meant that their powerbase was directly challenged by the increasing role of Buddhism, one of the Soga patriarchs' key influences on the political system. Kamatari was feeling out the politics of the court, and seemed to be seeking the support of royal family members who could help challenge the powerful Soga ministers.  He found that support in two places.  First, in Prince Karu, brother to Takara Hime, the current sovereign, who had been on the throne ever since her husband, Tamura, had passed away.  And then there was the Prince Katsuraki, better known to us, today, as Prince Naka no Oe.  A game of kemari, where a group of players tried to keep a ball in the air as long as they could, using only their feet, was a chance to get close to the Prince.  When Naka no Oe's shoe flew off in the middle of the match, Kamatari ran over to retrieve it.  As he offered the shoe back to its owner, they got to talking, and one of the most impactful bromances in Yamato history was born. The two ended up studying together.  The unification of the Yellow River and Yangzi basin regions under the Sui and Tang, and the expansion of the Silk Road, had repercussions felt all the way across the straits in Yamato.  Naka no Oe and Kamatari were both avid students and were absorbing all that the continent had to throw at them about philosophy and good governance.  As is so often the case, it seems like idealistic students were the fertile ground for revolutionary new thoughts. There were problems implementing their vision, however.  Although the Nihon Shoki claims that Naka no Oe was the Crown Prince, that honor was probably given to Prince Furubito no Oe, who would have no doubt perpetuated the existing power structures at court.  This is something that the Chroniclers, or perhaps those before them, glossed over and may have even tried to retconned, to help bolster the case that Naka no Oe was actually working for the common good and not just involved in a naked power grab for himself.  There is also the question as to where Yamashiro no Oe had stood in the succession, as he likely had a fair number of supporters. With the destruction of Yamashiro no Oe's family, however, the balance of power shifted.  Although Soga no Emishi had long been an influential member of the court, and not solely because of his role as Prime Minister, Soga no Iruka was relatively new to power.  Yamashiro no Oe's family, in turn, likely had a fair number of supporters, and even neutral parties may have been turned off by Iruka's violent methods to suppress an opponent who had already been defeated politically.  Naka no Oe and Kamatari seem to have seized on this discontent againt the Soga, but they needed at least one other conspirator.  They achieved this by offering a marriage alliance with Soga no Kurayamada no Ishikawa no Maro, a lesser member of the Soga household, whose own immediate family had been supporters of Yamashiro no Oe, and so likely had plenty of grievances with his cousins.  Naka no Oe married Ishikawa no Maro's daughter, Wochi no Iratsume, also known as Chinu no Iratsume.  Together, these three—Naka no Oe, Kamatari, and Ishikawa no Maro—brought others into their plot, and finally, in 645, they struck.  Soga no Iruka was killed at court, in front of a shocked Takara Hime and Prince Furubito no Oe.  By the way, this is another thing that suggests to me that Furubito no Oe was the Crown Prince, because why was he front and center at the ceremony, while Naka no Oe was able to skulk around at the edges, tending to things like the guards?  After the assassination at the court – the Isshi Incident -- Naka no Oe gathered forces and went after Soga no Emishi, since they knew they couldn't leave him alive.  With both Soga no Emishi and Soga no Iruka dead, and Takara Hime having abdicated the throne in shock at what had just occurred, Naka no Oe could have taken the throne for himself.  However, in what was probably a rather astute move on his part, he chose not to.  He recognized that Furubito no Oe's claim to the throne was possibly stronger, and those who had supported the Soga would not doubt push for him to take the throne.  And so, instead, he pushed for his uncle, Prince Karu, to ascend as sovereign.  Karu was Takara Hime's brother, and they could use Confucian logic regarding deference to one's elders to support him.  Plus, Karu's hands weren't directly bloodied by the recent conflict. As for Prince Furubito, he saw the way that the winds were blowing.  To avoid being another casualty, he retired from the world, taking the vows of a Buddhist monk.  However, there were still supporters who were trying to put him on the throne and eventually he would be killed, to avoid being used as a rallying point. Prince Karu, known as Jomei Tennou, ruled for around a decade. During that time, Naka no Oe and his reformers helped to cultivate a new image of the state as a bureaucratic monarchy.  Naka no Oe was designated the Crown Prince, and Nakatomi no Kamatari was made the “Inner Prime Minister”, or Naidaijin.  Ishikawa no Maro was made the minister of the  Right, while Abe no Uchimaro was made Minister of the Left, and they ran much of the bureaucracy, but the Naidaijin was a role more directly attached to the royal household, and likely meant that Kamatari was outside of their jurisdiction, falling into a position directly supporting Naka no Oe.  They instituted Tang style rank systems, and set up divisions of the entire archipelago.  They appointed governors of the various countries, now seen as provinces, and made them report up to various ministers, and eventually the sovereign.  After all, if you were going to manage everything, you needed to first and foremost collect the data.  This period is known as the Taika, or Great Change, period, and the reforms are known as the Taika reforms, discussed in episode 108. They even built a large government complex in the form of the Toyosaki Palace, in Naniwa, though this may have been a bit much—for more, check out episodes 112 and 113. Years into the project, though, things seem to have soured, a bit.  Rumors and slander turned Kamatari against his ally, Ishikawa no Maro, resulting in the death of Ishikawa no Maro and much of his family.  Naka no Oe and other members of the royal family eventually abandoned the Naniwa palace complex, leaving now-Emperor Karu and the government officials there to run the day-to-day administration, while much of the court made its way back to the Asuka area.  Karu would later pass away, but the throne still did not pass to Crown Prince Naka no Oe, despite his title.  Instead, the throne went back to Takara Hime.  This was her second reign, and one of only two split reigns like this that we know of.  The Chroniclers, who were creating posthumous titles for the sovereigns, gave her two names—Kogyoku Tennou for her reign up to 645, and then Saimei Tennou for her second reign starting in 655.   During her latter reign, Naka no Oe continued to wield power as the Crown Prince, and the Chroniclers don't really get into why she came back into power.  It may be that Naka no Oe, in his role as Crown Prince, had more freedom: although the sovereign is purportedly the person in power, that position can also be limiting.  There are specific things which the sovereign is supposed to do, rituals in which they are expected to partake.  In addition, there were restrictions on who was allowed into the inner sanctum of the palace, and thus limits on who could interact with the sovereign, and how.  That meant that any sovereign was reliant on intermediaries to know what was going on in their state and to carry out their orders.  As Crown Prince, Naka no Oe may have had more flexibility to do the things he wanted to do, and he could always leverage the sovereign's authority. When Baekje was destroyed, and Yamato decided to go to their aid, Naka no Oe appears to have had a strong hand in raising forces and directing movements, at least within the archipelago.  When Takara Hime passed away rather suddenly, he accompanied her funerary procession much of the way back, and then returned to Tsukushi—Kyushu—to direct the war.   This is the same thing that Toyotomi Hideyoshi would do when he sent troops to Korea in the late 16th century.  Moving headquarters closer to the continent would reduce the time between messages.  Theoretically he could have moved out to the islands of Iki or Tsushima, but I suspect that there were more amenities at Tsukushi, where they even built a palace for Takara Hime—and later Naka no Oe—to reside in.  It was likely not quite as spectacular as the full-blown city that Hideyoshi developed in a matter of months, but the court could also leverage the facilities previously created for the Dazaifu. The war took time.  This wasn't like some “wars” that were more like specific military actions.  This was a war that dragged on for several years, with different waves of ships going over to transport people and supplies.  Things came to a head in the 9th month of 663, roughly October or November on the Western calendar.  The Baekje resistance was under siege, and their only hope was a fleet of Yamato soldiers coming to their aid.  The Yamato fleet met with a much smaller Tang fleet at the mouth of the Baek River—the Hakusukinoe.  They attempted to break through the Tang blockade, but the Tang had positional advantage and were eventually able to counterattack, destroying the Yamato fleet.  Without their relief, the Baekje resistance fell. The remnants of the Yamato army, along with those Baekje nobles that were with them, headed out, fleeing back to the archipelago.  One presumes that there may have been other Baekje nobles, and their families, who had already made the trip. After the entry describing this rout, on the 24th day of the 9th month of 663, we have a gap in the Chronicles of just a little more than 4 months.  We then pick up with Naka no Oe's government starting to look at internal affairs.  For one thing, we are told that he selected his younger brother, the Royal Prince Ohoama, as Crown Prince, and he made updates to the cap-rank system, changing it from 19 ranks to 26 ranks.  The first six ranks remained the same, but the name “kwa”, or “flower”, for the 7th through 10th ranks was changed to “Kin”, meaning “brocade”.  Furthermore, a “middle” rank was added between the Upper and Lower ranks, further distinguishing each group, and adding 6 extra ranks.  Finally, the initial rank, Risshin, was divided into two:  Daiken and Shouken.  We aren't told why, but it likely meant that they could have more granular distinctions in rank. At the same time that was going on, the court also awarded long swords to the senior members of the great families, and short swords to the senior members of lesser families.  Below that, senior members of the Tomo no Miyatsuko and others were given shields and bows and arrows.  Furthermore, the vassals, or kakibe, and the domestic retainers, or yakabe, were settled, to use Aston's translation.  The kanji used in the text appears to refer to settling a decision or standardizing something, rather than settling as in giving a place to live.  It seems to me to mean that the court was settling servants on families: determining what kind and how many servants that various houses could have based on their position in the hierarchy.  I can't help but notice that all of these gifts were very martial in nature.  That does not mean, of course, that they were necessarily because of the war over Baekje, nor that they were in response to the concern about a possible Tang invasion -- we've seen in the past where swords were gifted to people who had served the court --but it is hard not to connect these gifts with recent worries.  We also know that this year, Naka no Oe turned his focus on building defenses, setting up guards and beacon fires on the islands of Tsushima and Iki.   Should any unknown fleet be seen coming to the archipelago, the fires would alert the forces at Kyushu, so they could send word and prepare a defense. In addition, the court built an impressive defense for Tsukushi—for the Dazai itself, the seat of the Yamato government in Kyushu.  It is called the Mizuki, or Water Castle, though at the time “castle” was more about walls and fortifications than the standalone fortress we tend to think of, today.  Along those lines, the Mizuki was an earthen embankment, roughly 1.2 kilometers long, extending from a natural ridgeline to the west across the Mikasa river.  Archeological evidence shows it had a moat, and this line of fortifications would have been a line of defense for the Dazai, should anyone try to invade.  This construction was so large and impressive that you can still see it, even today.  It stands out on the terrain, and it is even visible from overhead photographs. In the third month of 664, we are told that Prince Syeongwang of Baekje and his people, were given a residence at Naniwa.  In fact, even though Baekje was no longer an independent kingdom, there appear to have been thousands of Baekje people now living in Yamato, unable to return home.  Many of these were former nobles of the Baekje court, which Yamato treated as a foreign extension of its own.  Resettling these people would be a major theme for the Chronicles, but we will also see, as we read further on, how their talents were leveraged for the state. Also in the third month, a star fell in the north—it says “in the north of the capital”, but I suspect that anywhere north, south, east, or west of the capital would have seen the same thing “in the north”.  There was also an earthquake, which isn't given any particular significance, beyond its mention as a natural phenomenon. On the 17th day of the 5th month of 664, so roughly 2 months later, we are told that Liu Jen'yuan, the Tang dynasty's general in Baekje, sent Guo Wucong  to Yamato with a letter and gifts.  We aren't told the contents of the letter, but one imagines that this may have been a rather tense exchange.  Yamato had just been involved in open warfare against Tang forces on the peninsula, and they still weren't sure if the Tang empire would come after them next.  Their only real hope on that front was Goguryeo, since the Tang and Silla were still trying to destroy the Goguryeo kingdom, and that may have kept the Tang forces tied up for a while.  No doubt Guo Wucong would have seen some of the defenses that Yamato was constructing during his visit. Guo Wucong would hang around for about seven and a half months.  He was given permission to take his leave on the 4th day of the 10th month.  Naka no Oe had his friend and Inner Prime Minister, Nakatomi no Kamatari send the Buddhist Priest, Chisho, with presents for Guo Wucong, and he and his officers were granted entertainments  before they left as well. Finally, Guo Wucong and his people returned to the Tang on the 12th day of the 12th month. While the delegation from the Tang was in Yamato, we are told of several tragedies.  First was that Soga no Murajiko no Oho-omi had passed away.  Soga no Murajiko appears to have been another son of Soga no Kuramaro, and thus brother to Soga no Ishikawa no Maro.  Unfortunately, we don't have much more on him in the record. Just a month later, we are told that the “Dowager Queen” Shima passed away.  Aston translates this as the Queen Grandmother, suggesting that she was Naka no Oe's grandmother. We are also told, that in the 10th month of 664, around the time that Guo Wucong was given leave to depart, that Yeon Gaesomun, the Prime Minister—though perhaps more correctly the despotic ruler—of Goguryeo, died.  It is said that he asked his children to remain united, but, well, even if we didn't know how it all turned out, I think we would look somewhat skeptically on any idea that they all did exactly as they were told.  Sure enough, in 667 we are told that Gaesomun's eldest son, Namseng, left the capital city of Pyongyang to tour the provinces, and while he was gone his younger brothers conspired with the nobility, and when he came back they refused to let him back in.  So Namseng ran off to the Tang court and apparently helped them destroy his own country. This is largely corroborated by other stories about Goguryeo, though the dates do seem to be off.  Tang records put Gaesomun's death around 666 CE, which the Samguk Sagi appears to follow, but on his tomb the date would appear to be 665.  Confusion like this was easy enough given the different dates and trying to cross-check across different regnal eras.  Sure, there were some commonalities, but it was very easy to miscount something. One last note from the twelfth month of 664—it seems that there were omens of apparent prosperity that came to the court from the island of Awaji.    First, there was rice that grew up in a farmer's pig trough.  The farmer's name is given as Shinuta no Fumibito no Mu, and Mu gathered this rice and stored it up, and thus, every day his wealth increased.  Then there was the bridal bed of Iwaki no Sukuri no Oho, of Kurimoto district.  They claimed that rice grew up at the head of his brides' mattress during her first night's stay with him.  And this wasn't just some brand new shoot, but overnight it formed an ear, and by the morning it bent down and ripened.  Then, the following night, another ear was formed.  When the bride went out into the courtyard, two keys fell down from heaven, and after she gave them to her husband, Oho, he went on to become a wealthy man. The exact purpose of these stories is unclear, but it seems to be that the Chroniclers are choosing to focus on stories of wealth and growth, which speak to how they wanted this reign as a whole, including the sovereign, to be remembered. However, more tragedy struck the following year, in 665,  when Hashibito, another Dowager Queen – this time the wife of Karu, aka Koutoku Tennou - passed away on the 25th day of the 2nd month.  On the first day of the 3rd month, 330 people took Buddhist vows for her sake. We are also told that in the second month the ranks of Baekje were cross-referenced with the ranks of Yamato, and then ranks were given out to some of the Baekje nobles that had come over to Yamato.  Kwisil Chipsa, who was originally ranked “Dalsol” in Baekje, was accorded “Lower Shoukin”.  That was rank 12 of the 26.  In comparison, “Dalsol” seems to have been the 2nd rank of 16 in Baekje.  Along with handing out rank, over 400 Baekje commoners, both men and women, were given residence in the Kanzaki district in Afumi.  This appears to be an area along the Aichi river, running from the Suzuka Mountains, west towards Lake Biwa. The court granted them rice-lands in the following month.  At the same time, several high ranking Baekje nobles were put in charge of building castles at strategic points around the archipelago.  These included one castle in Nagato, as well as the castles of Ohono and Woyogi, in Tsukushi.  Two years later, in 667, we also see the building of Takayasu castle, in Yamato and Yashima castle in Yamada, in Sanuki—modern Kagawa, on Shikoku, facing the Seto Inland Sea passageway.  Kaneda castle in Tsushima was also a Baekje-built one. We mentioned something about these castles last episode.  They were in the Baekje style, and as I said, the term “castle” here is more about the walls, which were largely made of rammed earth ramparts.  This means that you pile up earth and dirt in a layer and then the laborers use tools specifically to tamp it down until it is thick and hard.  Then another layer is piled on top and the process is repeated.  These walls were often placed on mountain tops, and they would follow the terrain, making them places that were easy to defend.  Beyond that, they didn't necessarily have a donjon keep or anything like that—maybe a tower so that one could see a little further, but being at the top of a mountain usually provided all the visual cues that one needed. We know there were other castles made as well.  For example, I mentioned last week about Kinojo, in Okayama, the ancient Kibi area.  Kinojo is not mentioned in the Nihon Shoki, but it clearly existed back then, and matches the general description of a 7th century mountain castle as built in Baekje.  The name means Demon Castle, and there is a story about it that is connected to the local Kibitsu Jinja—the Shrine to Prince Kibi.  According to legend, Kibitsu Hiko, aka Prince Kibitsu or, perhaps more appropriately, the Prince of Kibi, came to the area around the time of the Mimaki Iribiko, so probably about the 3rd century, at the head of a large force.  Kibitsu Hiko had come to defeat the demon, Ura, who lived in the nearby castle, hence Kinojo, and legend says that he freed the people from the demon's rule. As I also mentioned, last week, this particular castle may have ended up in the Momotaro story.  There are those who believe that the story of Momotarou is based on the story of Prince Kibitsu Hiko, and his defeat of the so-called demon, “Ura”.   Certainly the story has grown more fantastical, and less connected to the ancient history of the Kibi region, but it still may have its origin in a much more standard legend of a founding prince of the ancient Kibi kingdom that was later changed into a fairy tale.   More likely, the castle was built by a Baekje nobleman, often thought to be a prince, who settled in the area.  There is the possibility that the demon's name “Ura” came from a mistranslation of his name, or it is also possible that he was unrelated to the story at all.  The Kibitsu Hiko legend may have incorporated the castle, Kinojo, at a later date, once people had forgotten when and why the castle was actually built. It would make sense if Kinojo had been built as part of the defenses for Yamato, as that area overlooks a large part of the fertile plains of Okayama and out beyond Kojima to the Seto Inland Sea -- it is perched over a key overland route from the western edge of Honshu to Yamato, and there would have been several ways to signal boats to put to sea to intercept forces on the water.  . This all suggests to me that Kinojo was probably part of Naka no Oe's castle-building effort, even if it isn't specifically remembered in the Chronicle.  But building castles wasn't enough to bring peace of mind that Yamato would survive a Tang invasion, and it is possibly as a defensive measure that Naka no Oe would go on to do something truly incredible—he would eventually move the capital from Asuka and Naniwa all the way to the shores of Lake Biwa itself, establishing the Ohotsu palace.  This was a truly extreme step that didn't endear Naka no Oe to the court, but it had several advantages.  For one thing, this move pulled the capital further away from the sea routes, meaning that if they were attacked, they had a more defensible position.  Even more so than Yamato, the Afumi region around Lake Biwa is surrounded by mountains, with a few narrow passes that restricted movement in and out. One of these is the famous Sekigahara, which remained a choke point even up to modern times.  The name even means the Field of the Barrier, indicating the barrier and checkpoint that had been set up there in ancient times.  Moving the capital also pulled the court away from some of the previous political centers, which may have been another feature that made it attractive to Naka no Oe.  Many capital moves have been made, at least in part, to get farther away from strong Buddhist temples, and this certainly would have moved things out of the Asuka region, which by now was a hotbed of Buddhist temple activity. But we'll talk about that all more, next episode.  Until then, thank you once again for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan

Chris Do is coming to Singapore!

We follow Korea's thousand-year struggle to maintain its integrity and independence, fending off cataclysmic invasions by the Mongols, the Manchus, and the samurai of Japan, and repeatedly transforming itself -- from a confederation of Buddhist warrior-nobles, to a strictly Confucian surveillance state, to a fledgling modern industrial nation -- before finally falling to Meiji Japan. Suggested reading: Han Woo-Keun, “The History of Korea”; Michael J. Seth, “A History of Korea” & “A Brief History of Korea”; Takashi Hatada, “A History of Korea”; Ki-Baek Lee, “A New History of Korea” Image: Seokguram Grotto, outside Gyeongju, late 700s Please sign on as a patron to hear all patron-only lectures! -- www.patreon.com/c/user?u=5530632

Mencius (c. 371–289 BC) was a prominent Confucian philosopher known as the “Second Sage” after Confucius. He emphasized the innate goodness of human nature, advocating for humane governance, moral cultivation, and the welfare of citizens. His teachings greatly influenced Confucianism and later Neo-Confucian thought.

In Economic Thought in Modern China: Market and Consumption, c.1500–1937 (Cambridge University Press, 2020), Margherita Zanasi argues that basic notions of a free market economy emerged in China a century and half earlier than in Europe. In response to the commercial revolutions of the late 1500s, Chinese intellectuals and officials called for the end of state intervention in the market, recognizing its power to self-regulate. They also noted the elasticity of domestic demand and production, arguing in favour of ending long-standing rules against luxury consumption, an idea that emerged in Europe in the late seventeenth and early nineteenth centuries. Zanasi challenges Eurocentric theories of economic modernization as well as the assumption that European Enlightenment thought was unique in its ability to produce innovative economic ideas. She instead establishes a direct connection between observations of local economic conditions and the formulation of new theories, revealing the unexpected flexibility of the Confucian tradition and its accommodation of seemingly unorthodox ideas. Margherita Zanasi is Professor of Chinese History at Louisiana State University. She has published widely on different aspects of modern China's history, including her first book Saving the Nation: Economic Modernity in Republican China (University of Chicago Press, 2005). She also serves as the editor of the journal Twentieth Century China.  Ghassan Moazzin is an Assistant Professor at the Hong Kong Institute for the Humanities and Social Sciences and the Department of History at the University of Hong Kong. He works on the economic and business history of 19th and 20th century China, with a particular focus on the history of foreign banking, international finance and electricity in modern China. His first book, Foreign Banks and Global Finance in Modern China: Banking on the Chinese Frontier, 1870–1919, is forthcoming with Cambridge University Press. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/east-asian-studies

In Economic Thought in Modern China: Market and Consumption, c.1500–1937 (Cambridge University Press, 2020), Margherita Zanasi argues that basic notions of a free market economy emerged in China a century and half earlier than in Europe. In response to the commercial revolutions of the late 1500s, Chinese intellectuals and officials called for the end of state intervention in the market, recognizing its power to self-regulate. They also noted the elasticity of domestic demand and production, arguing in favour of ending long-standing rules against luxury consumption, an idea that emerged in Europe in the late seventeenth and early nineteenth centuries. Zanasi challenges Eurocentric theories of economic modernization as well as the assumption that European Enlightenment thought was unique in its ability to produce innovative economic ideas. She instead establishes a direct connection between observations of local economic conditions and the formulation of new theories, revealing the unexpected flexibility of the Confucian tradition and its accommodation of seemingly unorthodox ideas. Margherita Zanasi is Professor of Chinese History at Louisiana State University. She has published widely on different aspects of modern China's history, including her first book Saving the Nation: Economic Modernity in Republican China (University of Chicago Press, 2005). She also serves as the editor of the journal Twentieth Century China.  Ghassan Moazzin is an Assistant Professor at the Hong Kong Institute for the Humanities and Social Sciences and the Department of History at the University of Hong Kong. He works on the economic and business history of 19th and 20th century China, with a particular focus on the history of foreign banking, international finance and electricity in modern China. His first book, Foreign Banks and Global Finance in Modern China: Banking on the Chinese Frontier, 1870–1919, is forthcoming with Cambridge University Press. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

Regina Linke|Author|Ilustrator|Art, Storytelling, and Cultural Identity The Power of Visual NarrativesToday, we're joined by Regina Linke, a Taiwanese American artist who brings ancient Chinese art and philosophy to a new generation. She specializes in contemporary Chinese gongbi-style painting and is the creator of The Oxherd Boy, a bestselling webcomic-turned-book that shares heartwarming stories inspired by Taoist, Buddhist, and Confucian wisdom. Her work makes these timeless ideas accessible and engaging for modern audiences. With a background in marketing tech and a passion for East Asian folklore, Regina continues to bridge past and present through her art. Her next picture book, Big Enough, arrives in April 2025.Link:https://reginalinke.com/Support PEG by checking out our Sponsors:Download and use Newsly for free now from www.newsly.me or from the link in the description, and use promo code “GHOST” and receive a 1-month free premium subscription.The best tool for getting podcast guests:https://podmatch.com/signup/phantomelectricghostSubscribe to our Instagram for exclusive content:https://www.instagram.com/expansive_sound_experiments/Subscribe to our YouTube https://youtube.com/@phantomelectricghost?si=rEyT56WQvDsAoRprPEG uses StreamYard.com for our live podcastshttps://streamyard.com/pal/c/6290085463457792Get $10.00 Credit for using StreamYard.com when you sign up with our linkRSShttps://anchor.fm/s/3b31908/podcast/rss

We inaugurate the brilliant Taiwanese master Edward Yang with a conversation about his transcendent 1994 social satire A Confucian Confusion. Following up his staggering masterwork A Brighter Summer Day, Yang turned his attention to Taipei in the 1990s at the height of its rapid evolution into a port city of global capital and the effects this shift had on the value systems and relational dynamics of the city's people. Evoking the slapstick and breackneck pacing of more popular modes of cinema - including the American romantic comedy - the film follows a large ensemble of Taipei's young professionals caught up in the frenzy of capitalism's mechanisms of social order, all in pursuit of an irresolute alternative that can liberate them from their self-made misery and help them achieve something approaching an honest, authentic way of life. We begin with a conversation about Yang as artist, his preoccupations, his distinct convergence of heart and wit. Then, we break down A Confucian Confusion's ensemble, how the characters reflect Yang's feelings about Taipei's consumer-friendly, corporatized status, and how honest desire is sublimated into the cold calculus of business language - a phenomenon that presages and predicts modern tech culture and its bastardized language of wellness and attunement. Finally, we discuss the film's unique and delicate balance of trenchant political satire and touching character drama; how Yang achieves a profound and honest reflection of the minor victories and acts of liberation we can achieve within a totalizing capitalist milieu. Get access to all of our premium episodes and bonus content by becoming a Hit Factory Patron for just $5/month.....Our theme song is "Mirror" by Chris Fish. 

Disagreements between the Mohists and the Confucians: is seeking benefits the right way to approach life? What motivates us to act morally, care for our loved ones or a doctrine of impartiality?

“One thing I would note about the Trumpian populists and their counterparts elsewhere in the West today is that they're a very peculiarly tribal kind of post conservative right. It's almost a kind of reassertion of paganism and tribal boundaries and grievance. That is very different from a more traditional kind of conservatism, where the texture of society and the accumulated wisdom of the past and the cultivation of virtue loomed large – at least as ideals, as aspirations. In contrast to that, this kind of contemporary populism has very little texture or wisdom or virtue – its more like a resentful atomism that is invoking certain tribal markers of membership because it's politically convenient, as it were.” – Adam Kempton Webb, NBN interview March 2025 In this expansive and thought-provoking interview, Adam K. Webb lays out a sweeping vision for a post-liberal, post-national world constitution, challenging the dominance of state sovereignty, corporate capitalism, and procedural liberalism. Drawing on over a quarter-century of scholarship culminating in his latest book The World's Constitution (Routledge, 2025) Webb proposes a system of functional sphere pluralism, where governance is rooted in ethical traditions rather than ideology – where citizenship, law, and economic participation are no longer restricted by territorial nation-states. Coming to terms with Webb's interdisciplinary and cross-cultural perspective suggests an affinity with thinkers like the late James C. Scott, in his critique of centralized control, coupled with the sensibilities of Roger Scruton and Patrick Deneen, in their defense of ethical and cultural order. Yet Webb diverges from them all in his insistence on a global, meta-constitutional framework, which might place him closer to the likes of Robert D. Kaplan, as seen in his latest work on civilizational cycles and geopolitical evolution. From his critique of elite legal capture (responding to a question on Katharina Pistor's The Code of Capital) to his historical engagement with Confucian, Islamic, and European pluralist traditions, Webb offers a bold alternative to today's stagnating governance models. Whether you are interested in constitutional theory, global governance, or the future of civilization itself, the professor's insights in this interview offers an intellectually rich and thought provoking conversation that is well worth your time. Below are links to Dr. Webb's latest books – Taylor & Francis Open Access publications: Deep Cosmopolis: Rethinking World Politics and Globalization (2015) The World's Constitution: Spheres of Liberty in the Future Global Order (2025) Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/new-books-network

When the world told them to sit down, they danced. When their voices were silenced, they sang. When religion and government tried to erase them, they thrived in the shadows. Welcome to the story of mudang (무당), the women who shaped and preserved Korean shamanism (or Musok 무속) against all odds. This episode dives into their centuries-long defiance and the magic, rebellion, and resilience that kept their traditions alive. ✨ How Korean shamanism became a lifeline for women cast out by Confucian society

Rosie reflects on the concept of Ren, a Confucian practice of cultivating compassion and understanding by seeing the world through others' perspectives. Through stories of Taylor Swift's Eras Tour and Oaxacan chapulines, she explores how asking open-ended questions and practicing active listening can bring us closer to those we care about—even when we don't share their tastes. Learn how empathy and curiosity can deepen connections in everyday life. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

Welcome to 听故事说中文, the podcast where stories come alive to help you improve your Chinese language proficiency and cultural competency. Today, we bring you a tale that is both a glimpse into history and a lesson in courage. Set in the late 19th century, our story follows a young Sun Yat-sen, the future father of modern China, as he navigates the traditional Confucian school system. In a classroom where rote learning and strict discipline reign supreme, Sun Yat-sen finds himself questioning the meaning behind the words he is forced to memorize. One day, after flawlessly reciting his lesson, he summons the courage to ask his teacher for an explanation, a move that shocks both his classmates and the teacher. Share your comments and join the conversation. _ LCTS ************************************************************ Support Our Podcast If our podcast brings value to your life and you'd like to help us continue creating great content, consider becoming a patron for as little as $7 a month. As a patron, you will enjoy: ✨ Ad-free episodes for an uninterrupted listening experience.