Podcasts about Fujiwara

This episode is a bit long--we are talking about the last elements of the reign of Takara Hime, the fall of Baekje, and the attempt to restore the kingdom, which culminated in the Battle of Hakusukinoe, aka the Battle of Baekgang.  For more, check out our blog at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-124 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Episode 124:  The Battle of Haku-suki-no-e. Echi no Takutsu looked out from where he stood on the deck of his ship.  The horizon seemed to bob up and down, but he knew that was just an illusion caused by the waves.  And upon those waves, hundreds of Yamato ships floated, ready to do battle.  As a veteran of this and other wars, Takutsu was used to surveying flotillas of ships, and yet, none of his years of experience had quite had this kind of impact upon him.  Yamato's ally, Baekje, had fallen in battle to the combined might of the Tang and Silla forces, and now they were assisting a band of rebels who were trying to once again restore their kingdom.  Silla was, of course, an all too common adversary for the Yamato court, but the Tang: now that was another matter. The Tang dynasty had only grown in the four and a half decades since it was founded.  They had destroyed their enemies and continued to expand.  They had defeated the Gokturks and expanded into the heart of Eurasia. Even in cases like Goguryeo, who had so far managed to hold out against their attacks, it was clear that they had an effect.  The Tang dynasty was the superpower of its day, and for whatever airs Yamato may have put on, they were still a backwater in comparison. And yet, on this day, that backwater seemed, by all rights, to have the upper hand.  In response to the destruction of Baekje, Yamato had marshalled all of their forces.  Their boats greatly outnumbered those of their opponents, and if they could defeat the Tang navy, then they could make landfall and connect with the remaining Baekje forces attempting to restore their kingdom.  And so here they were, at the mouth of the Baengma River, also known as the Baekgang, or, in Japanese, the Haku-suki-no-e.  The Tang forces were bottled up, and the greater Yamato forces seemed poised to take them out.   The only problem was that the river mouth narrowed quickly, so that only a few ships could attack at any given time.  Still, with overwhelming numbers, Echi no Takutsu and his fellow soldiers expected that they would still be able to overcome their enemies and place their allies back in control of their territory. With confidence in their victory, the Yamato ships sailed forward, prepared to crush their enemies, and restore Baekje…   Greetings, everyone, and welcome back.  As you may have figured out we are still in the later half of the 7th century.  During the last episode we talked about the embassy to the Tang dynasty court that got delayed—placed under house arrest for a year—because the Tang dynasty was conducting their special military operations over on the Korean peninsula.  That was in the year 660.  Specifically, the Tang were working in conjunction with Silla to destroy the Kingdom of Baekje, and they even returned to the Tang capital with prisoners, including the royal family and many high-ranking nobles.  That they didn't want the ambassadors leaving, and presumably informing Baekje on their way back, would seem to speak to the strong ties between Baekje and Yamato.  After all, several times in the Nihon Shoki we have seen where the Baekje royal line was endangered and a prince that had been living at the Yamato court was brought across the strait with Yamato support to place them back on the throne. This episode, we are going to look a little closer at what happened on the peninsula and what happened when news of the event reached the Yamato court.  This would culminate in one of the most famous naval battles in east Asia—certainly one of the most famous in Japanese history.  It is recorded in records from various sides, so unlike many of the raids on Silla, and other conflicts on the peninsula, we have multiple accounts documenting it, and if the Japanese account is to be believed than it may have been among the largest naval conflicts in the world at that time. So let me take you through what the Chronicles have to say up until the battle and then we can talk about what happened and a little bit about what it would mean for Yamato in the years to come. We'll start a bit before the conflict, while Baekje was still going strong.  The Chronicles are filled with portents and omens, and of course, they already knew what had happened.  Still, let's talk about some of what they mentioned leading up to the battle, as well as some of the remaining accounts demonstrating the cross-strait exchanges. We'll start in 655, the year after Takara Hime had assumed the throne, being given the name Saimei Tennou by the Chroniclers.  On the first day of the 5th month we are told that a “man of Tang” was seen riding a dragon in the sky.  He is described as wearing a broad hat of blue—or green—oiled cloth.  He rode fast from the peak of Mt. Katsuraki and disappeared on Mt. Ikoma.  At noon he galloped over the pines of Sumiyoshi and disappeared into the west. This is obviously a fantastical story, but let's talk about what we can.  It is hard not to see in this some of the importance that the Tang dynasty would play in this reign, especially given the fact that this occurred in the first year after Takara hime had ascended the throne.  It would seem to have been meant here as an omen.  I have not seen specific comments about this, though I'm sure someone has looked into it.  But for me, I am struck by the fact this person was, first and foremost, identifiable as Tang, likely meaning because of his clothing.  And he was riding a dragon.  Dragons were known in Japan, but not quite as popular in folklore as they are shown to be on the mainland.  The Dragon was the imperial symbol of the Tang and other dynasties.  Japan had its own stories of dragon kings and other such things, but in this case I can't imagine that the connection with the imperial throne would be ignored. The hat is also interesting.  The color is listed as “blue” though Aston translates this as “green”.  The term “aoi” was used for any color on the spectrum from blue to green.  In fact, it is still the case that the “green” light on a Japanese traffic signal is still referred to as “blue”.  There were more specific colors, but the word “midori” would have been more like a specific word, like “teal”, “cerulean”, or “aquamarine”, rather than a core color like we would use blue, yellow, or, in this case, green.  The fact that it was made of oiled stuff suggests to me that it was waterproofed.  It is noted specifically with the character for “kasa”, which typically refers to a wide brimmed hat used to keep the rain off. I suspect that in this case it was the kind of hat that we often see on Tang dynasty figurines of riders.  They often have a tall, wide-brimmed hat, often with drape of sheer fabric around the edge.  This kind of hat would eventually be popular in Japan amongst traveling noblewomen, as it helped keep them out of the sun and away from the bugs and, well, it also acted as a barrier between the them and the rest of the world.  The versions seen on the Tang figurines are usually somewhat short, probably just enough to obscure the face, and may have helped to cut down on glare.  These often aren't obviously oiled, but that certainly could have been the case, and that may have been another method of protecting travelers from anything that nature could throw at them. It does seem a very particular image. The course of the rider is somewhat interesting.  From Katsuraki, on the southwestern edge of the Nara basin, north to Mt. Ikoma.  Then west to Sumiyoshi and off to the far west—in other words, back to the Tang dynasty.  Sumiyoshi is also of particular interest. The pines of Sumiyoshi are a particular poetic trope, or utamakura.  They help to conjure famous imagery of a place, and so it is hardly surprising that they would be found in this context.  In this case I suspect that is the main reason they are mentioned.  However, Sumiyoshi also has its own importance.  Sumiyoshi was once on the seashore, and Sumiyoshi was a common shrine for travelers to pray at for safe travels.  In fact, there are Sumiyoshi shrines across the archipelago that all are tied back to the Sumiyoshi in the modern Ohosaka area, and they often found near the shore as places where travelers could pray for safe passage before they headed off on the sea. And so it would make sense that the rider would head off over Sumiyoshi and to the west, much as the various ambassadors would travel off to the west. There may be more to it, but I suspect that this was either referencing the growing links between Yamato and the Tang, or perhaps simply referring to the various kentoushi—the ambassadors who crossed the seas to the Tang court and brought back so much to the archipelago. The next obvious omen seems to come in 657.  In this case it was a white fox seen in the land of Iwami.  It was mentioned in the same record as when ambassadors Adzumi no Tsuratari and Tsu no Kutsuma came back from the Western Seas via Baekje.  It isn't clear that the two are connected, though.  Perhaps there is something I'm missing.  It is notable that this seems to be the only mention of Iwami that I could find, at least doing a quick search for the characters in the electronic version of the text.  Iwami is the land to the west of Izumo, on the western end of modern Shimane prefecture, and the western end of the San'in-do, along the northern edge of western Honshu.  It is a mountainous region on the edge of the Japan Sea, the Nihonkai. We've talked about many of the other accounts after that, until the following year, 658.  We have a note about a south-pointing chariot, which we'll discuss in a later episode, but that was clearly another connection to continental technologies.  After that we have an account from Izumo.  Huge numbers of dead fish were washing ashore, up to three feet, or roughly a meter, deep.  The fish were apparently the size of a pufferfish, with beaks like a sparrow and thorny scales, several inches long.  I wonder if, by the description, they could be referring to triggerfish or parrotfish, which are found in the Japan Sea.  Fish kills, or mass die-offs, are unfortunate events that occasionally happen for a variety of reasons.  The most common is actually asphyxiation—algae blooms or other such events that eat up the oxygen, causing fish to die off in an area.  Fish kills might also happen because of disease, undersea quakes, and other factors.  Of course, to anyone in Izumo, this would have been a terribly random event.  I can't tell whether or not it was an omen, but it certainly could have been.  If so, I doubt it would have been a very good one. The strange fish that were brought up were called “sparrow fish” by the locals.  They believed they were sparrows that had gone to the ocean and turned into fish. Immediately after that, in the Chronicle, we get a somewhat odd entry in that it seems out of place.  We are told that Baekje had sent to Japan requesting aid.  Tang and Silla had teamed up and captured King Wicha, his queen, and the heir to the throne.  It is probably notable that this is written as “one book says”.  Also, recall that dates were still somewhat problematic at this time.  They were based on the regnal years of the monarch or the dates according to the sexagesimal cycle, either of which could have been off, particularly at this time, in different sources.  I suspect that the fact that they mention it as “one book says” indicates that even the compilers of the Nihon Shoki weren't quite sure that this was in the right spot, but it was an account of what did eventually happen—just not until two years later.  This position is bolstered by the fact that the next account talks about how Azumi no Muarji no Tsuratari had returned from what was apparently another trip to the Western Seas and Baekje, just a year after the previous.  Again, this could be the same expedition, with accounts misplacing the dates, or with dates according to when he left and others when he arrived back.  Still, it brings us yet another omen. Apparently, around this point, Baekje had been successful against Silla.  This is a good reminder that Baekje was not exactly an innocent bystander in everything that had happened.  King Wicha was rather famous in his own day, seen as a paragon of courage, largely because he was taking the fight to Silla, often allying with Goguryeo to block Silla from their access to the Tang and others.  Silla, who had been adopting Tang culture and style, and even claimed some distant descent from ethnic Han immigrants during the time of the Han commandries on the peninsula, were still able to forge close ties with the Tang, who seemed to preference them over Baekje and Goguryeo.  This may have been part of the general diplomatic game of the Middle Kingdom going back to the Han times, where they would often look to ally with those states beyond the immediate border states, so that those on their immediate border would have to defend themselves on two fronts.  This was likely more aimed at Goguryeo than Baekje, at least initially, but the alliance meant that Baekje, whom the Tang regularly chastised for their actions against Silla, was also in the crosshairs. However, up through 658, it seems Baekje's actions were largely successful.  Both the Baekje and Silla annals mention attacks by Baekje against the country of Silla in the following year, which otherwise correlate with the record in the Nihon Shoki.  Here we should remember that the author of the Samguk Sagi, which preserved these records, was writing centuries later, and had a clear pro-Silla bias.  There are several years missing from the Baekje annals at this time, but the idea that Baekje was attacking Silla is hardly controversial.  In the Silla Annals, in 659,  we also get word that Silla sent envoys to the Tang court protesting Baekje's aggression and asking the Tang court for aid.  Aid that would soon come, unbeknownst to others—even Silla wasn't quite sure until they showed up. And this is likely why the Nihon Shoki records a strange incident in Baekje, where a horse, of its own accord, started circling the Golden Hall of a Buddhist temple in the Baekje capital, continuing day and night, and stopping only to graze.  In some regions, walking around a sacred temple or stupa was considered a particular form of prayer, and perhaps the horse knew something and was trying to make merit.  In the text we are told explicitly what this meant:  the downfall of Baekje was nigh, and it would fall in the coming year, 660.  In a similar fashion, the Baekje annals, and the Samguk Yusa, likely pulling from the same sources, go through a series of omens, from birds to fish, to various ghosts, all saying that Baekje was about to fall.  The annals at this point paint Wicha as consumed with the material world and debauchery, likely a largely later indictment to add a moral explanation to the events that would soon occur. In Yamato, there were other omens as well.  Things were not entirely well in the Yamato capital.  Remember, this was Takara Hime's second reign, and her son was fully grown, himself, so she was no spring chicken.  On the 13th day of the 7th month of the year 659, she had the ministers expound the Urabon sutra in all the temples in Asuka and had a requital made to the ancestors for 7 generations.  We are also told that in that same year, the Miyatsuko of Izumo was made to repair the Itsuki god's shrine.  I have to wonder if these were to help make merit, or were just regular occurrences, but we are also told that fox bit at the head of a creeper that a man was carrying and ran off with it, and a dog found a dead man's hand and forearm and dropped them at Ifuya shrine.  The chroniclers claim these omens were not about Baekje, but rather about Takara Hime herself—claiming that she was not long for this world. It is good to remember that it is only now that we can look back and see where things were leading.  At the time, nobody really knew what the future held, and business went on as normal.  The omens and portents were all well and good, but they are being interpreted after the fact.  There is no indication that people were telling Takara Hime that her time was about to come.  This is illustrated by the fact that there are plenty of regular accounts in here as well.  We have a few episodes that actually reference the “shiguma”—the polar bear or the brown bear—and Gogureyo.  The first is of Goguryeo merchants—likely part of an embassy—trying to sell a shiguma fur in the local markets for 60 pounds of floss silk, a price that was apparently laughable, as the market commissioner turned them down.  And here I'll digress briefly because this is rather a remarkable entry, even though it seems like almost nothing, because it demonstrates something we rarely see but often suspect.  For all that the ambassadors to various courts were performing their diplomatic functions, they were also there to trade.  This is part of how they funded the journey.  They would bring some goods for the court and the sovereign, of course, and hopefully get as much or more in return.  But they would also trade in the local markets.  This is probably part of what the embassy to the Tang was doing when they made landfall and then stayed put for a month or so.  I suspect they were working with the local government to ship off the tribute, but also availing themselves of the local markets.  You didn't necessarily exchange currency, but you would sell your trade goods and that would likely help fund the embassy for the time they were in the country, at least for anything the host nation didn't provide. It is also interesting that we talk of a market commissioner.  We've mentioned markets before, and their existence is likely more than just a random assortment of shops with goods to sell.  They were overseen by local officials, and they would have been regulated to some extent by the larger state, probably with taxes and other goods making their way up to the government.  I don't know that we have a clear idea of what it looked like until later, and so an entry like this just gives us a little hint at what was going on in the day to day administration of the entire country. Continuing with the shiguma theme, apparently a painter named Komaro—a Japanese name, but he's described as a “Goguryeo” painter, which could mean that he trained in Goguryeo, or came from there and changed his name.  It is also possible, I supposed, that he was simply trained in the Goguryeo style.  Anyway, he was apparently quite successful because he entertained guests from his own uji—his own surname—and so borrowed 70 official shiguma skins for them to sit on.  Apparently this was a garish display that left the guests astonished and ashamed to even be part of the event, so they went away. So sitting on fur rugs was apparently not a thing to do—or perhaps just not that many.  But I would note that he apparently borrowed them from the government—they were “official” after all.  So what was the government doing with them?  They were probably tribute from the Emishi in the north, or perhaps just the result of regular trade.  And Komaro must have had some pull to be able to request them for his own private use.  Unfortunately, I don't have any further details, so we are left to guess at most of the rest. But we do continue on with the Goguryeo theme in the following year, the first month of 660, with envoys from Goguryeo arriving in Tsukushi.  They likely had no idea that while they were in Yamato, big changes were about to take place back on the peninsula.  It would take them four months to get to Naniwa, arriving on the 8th day of the 5th month.  They couldn't have known everything that was happening on the peninsula, behind them. And that's because it was in the third month of tha year that Tang Gaozong commanded Su Dingfang, along with Kim Inmun and Liu Boying, to take 130,000 land and see troops to subdue Baekje.  They landed at Teongmul islands, west of Baekje, and, word having reached their court, the King of Silla sent the renowned general Kim Yusin in charge of a force of 50,000 troops to lend their support.  Kim Yusin was a veteran of fighting between Baekje and Silla, and he had already face the enemy on the battlefield, but now he had the aid of the Tang troops. King Wicha had heard of their advance, and asked his court for advice.  One suggestion was to try to crush the Tang soldiers as soon as they came ashore—force them to stay on their boats and destroy them before they could get on land and organized.  Another suggested that the Tang army, for all its size, was built for speed and a decisive victory.  If Baekje could simply harry them long enough, it would wear them down, and they would have to return.  They could then turn their sights on Silla, an enemy they knew how to deal with. One noble, Heungsu, who had been out of favor in the court, and even exiled at one point, offered his advice—that they should fortify the Baek river and Tanhyeon Pass, so that they could not approach.  It would be a near suicidal task, but brave soldiers could defend those narrow points against larger forces, since they would be forced to engage with fewer forces at a time.  Heungsu was ridiculed, however, and his ideas were abandoned. Instead, they devised a scheme whereby they would let the Tang ships enter the river, until they could only go two abreast, and then they would attack them from the shore and destroy them.  Likewise, at the pass, rather than fortifying it, as suggested, they would wait in ambush until the Tang forces could not maneuver, and they would then destroy them as well.  This seemed like a plan, and it was given to the general Kyebaek to carry out. At first, it looked like it would work.  General Kyebaek took five thousand soldiers to Hwangsan as soon as the heard that the Silla soldiers were advancing through the pass.  They engaged the Silla forces four separate times, defeating Silla each time.  However, every assault took its toll.  The five thousand troops could not prevail against a force 10 times their size, and eventually they were wiped out, along with general Kyebaek.  Without opposition, the Silla forces met up with the Tang, and the two armies joined forces.  They actually were able to use the mountainous terrain, which otherwise would have been used to keep them out, to their own advantage.  Eventually they were able to advance on the capital.  The Baekje forces fought to exhaustion, but they were outmatched by the Tang-Silla alliance.  Eventually, they marched on the city, and King Wicha knew that they would be defeated. Four years before this, an official had spoken up against King Wicha, and had been thrown in prison, where he died, emaciated.  However, before he died he offered advice that if an enemy were ever to come, the army should be deployed to the passes and to the upstream banks of the rivers, and that no enemy should be allowed to pass those points.  Looking at the enemy at his gates, King Wicha regretted that he had not listened to that advice.  He grabbed his son and fled to the northern border of Baekje while Su Tingfang and the combined forces besieged the capital.  He sought refuge at Ungjin fortress, in modern Kongju.  This all happened in the 7th lunar month of the year 660. With King Wicha fled, along with the crown prince, his second son, T'ae, declared himself king and led the defense of the city.  However, several others of King Wicha's sons looked at this and were afraid that it now didn't matter what happened.  If T'ae defended the city, then they would be next on his hit list, as they were clearly his rivals to power, and if the Tang defeated them, well, it didn't look good, either.  So they and their retainers all fled the city as well.  This sparked a mass exodus as other citizens tried to do the same, and T'ae could not stop them.  Eventually, the forces weakened, Su Tingfang took the city and raised the Tang banners.  T'ae opened the gates and pleaded for his life.  When King Wicha heard all of this, he knew there was no escape.  He and his sons surrendered themselves and the fortresses to the Tang-Silla alliance.  He and his sons, and many of his people, were taken captive and taken back to the Tang court, where the Yamato ambassadors saw them being paraded around. Now the king may have been captured, but Baekje was not completely subdued.  A few of the remaining citizens held out hope that they could gather their forces and kick out the Tang and Silla and take back their country.  They knew that, although most of the royal family was captured there was still one more:  Prince Pung.  Prince Pung, as you may recall from previous episodes, was residing in Yamato, a royal hostage—or perhaps more of a restrained guest.  The rebels acknowledged him as their king and sent word to Yamato asking that he come back, along with reinforcements, and retake the kingdom.  In the meantime, they gathered and fought as they could, wearing down the Tang and Silla forces.  The rebels, after all, knew the land, and the invaders were still reliant on their supply lines.  This situation persisted for several years. Back in Yamato, in the 5th month of 660, they still were likely unaware of what had happened on the peninsula.  There was no social media to alert them to the dangers, and it would still be a few months before the Baekje capital actually fell.  They were busy entertaining the envoys from Goguryeo, or preparing 100 raised seats an one hundred kesa, or Buddhist vestments, for a Benevolent King ritual.  They were focused on their wars in the north, with the Mishihase, which they had been successful in Praising Abe no Hirafu for his successful campaign.  There is one record that says that in the 5th month people started carrying weapons around with them for no good reason, because they had heard of the destruction of Baekje, but that hadn't actually happened yet, so this is likely out of place—possibly by a couple of years. There is a note about the destruction of Baekje in the 7th month, but that is from the “Records of the reigns of Japan” or Nihon Seiki, a work that is no longer extant that was apparently written by a Goguryeo priest, who noted Baekje's destruction in his history, but this was probably not exactly information available to Yamato at the time.  And no, I don't want to gloss over the fact that we are given another source that was likely being used by the Chroniclers.  I want to delve into the fact that this was by a Goguryeo priest, known in Japanese as Doken.  I want to talk about how this work pops up throughout the reigns of Saimei, Tenchi, and apparently even in the Fujiwara Kaden.  It seems like he was close to Nakatomi no Kamatari and the Fujiwara house, which probably explains how he had access to the events mentioned and why his work was known.  However, I don't really have time for all of that because we are trying to focus on what was happening with Baekje and what was happening Yamato at the time. And in Yamato it wasn't until the 9th month that word finally arrived via a Buddhist novice named “Kakchyong”, according to Aston.  He carried word of the defeat, but also word that Kwisil Poksin had taken up arms and was leading a rebellion against Tang and Silla control.    The royal city, which some records say had fallen in mere days, was once more under Baekje control, according to the word that reached Yamato.  It does seem that Poksin held it for a time, but they weren't able to set in for any kind of prolonged fight in any one spot.  It seems that the fighting was going back and forth, and the rebels were remaining on the move while fighting actions against the invading forces.  Poksin had apparently captured some of the enemy troops, though, and sent them to Yamato, possibly as tribute and payment for future reinforcements, and possibly to demonstrate their victories. And if that was the case, it seemed to have worked.  Takara Hime agreed to help Baekje.  She agreed to send troops, commanding them to go from a hundred directions and meet up in Sateok—likely meaning that this was an emergency deployment and rather than everyone gathering in Kyushu and heading over together, they were getting there as fast as they could, however they could, to try and come to Baekje's aid.  She also released Prince Pung to return as well, and basically named him the King of Baekje herself.  As for Takara Hime and the main force, they moved first to Naniwa and gathered there.  She was considering going on to Tsukushi and then traveling with the bulk of the navy from there. Omens were also coming in, and it wasn't good.  In the province of Suruga, they built a boat, but apparently, overnight, the bow and stern switched places, which the Chroniclers saw as a bad omen.  And then there were a swarm of insects reported in Shinano as coming from a westerly direction.  Another bad sign, especially given that Tang and Silla were both west of Yamato. Although they started preparing in the 9th month of 660, it took them until the first month of 661 to have the royal ship ready to go.  It is likely that much of what was happening was not just a waiting navy putting to sea, but rather there were emergency build orders to build or repair ships and make them ready for the crossing and eventual attack.  The royal ship made its through the Seto Inland Sea, past Bizen, the nearer part of ancient Kibi, and on to Iyo, on Shikoku.  They seem to have had a few setbacks in their journey, and it wasn't until the 5th month that they reached the Asakura palace, though to be in Chikuzen, in Tsukushi, aka northern Kyushu.  The month before, Poksin had written and asked to wait upon the prince, which I suspect was a polite way of asking when the reinforcements would finally arrive. Unfortunately, at Asakura, disaster struck.  The Chroniclers claim this was because they had cleared sacred trees in order to make room for the palace and the kami were none to pleased.  The palace itself was demolished and several notable people, including the Grand Treasurer, took ill and died.  Not a great start to things.  It was here that they met up with the envoys coming back from Chang'an who no doubt told them about their house arrest and everything else.  On top of this, we are told that in the 6th month Prince Ise, of whom little more is given, died, and then, a little more than a month later, he was followed by the sovereign herself: Takara Hime. I suspect that Prince Ise may have been one of Takara Hime's sons, possibly in line for the throne, otherwise, why make mention of his death.  However, Takara's passing would have no doubt thrown the war plans into disarray.  It is quite likely that she wasn't actually the one doing most of the heavy lifting—in all likely that was her son, Prince Naka no Oe, who was handling a lot of that.  But still, the death of the sovereign just before you head off to war, was not great.  They had to send a funeral procession back to Naniwa and Asuka.  Prince Naka no Oe accompanied it as far as the Iwase Palace, but didn't go all the way back.  As the procession headed for Naniwa, he composed a poem: Longing as I do For a sight of thee Now that I have arrived here, Even thus do I long Desirous of a sight of thee! Prince Naka no Oe had just lost his sovereign and his mother, and he was now fully in charge of the armada headed to try and relieve Baekje.  He would have to continue the plans while Takara Hime's remains headed back to Asuka.  The funeral procession arrived in the 10th month, and her body was put in temporary interment for at Asuka-gahara as 9 days of mourning began.  Her son, however, would continue to mourn from afar.  He put on white clothing—a symbol of purity and associated with funerals and death, at least in Buddhist tradition. He had no time, though.  By the 8th month, Prince Naka no Oe was sending Adzumi no Hirafu no Omi and Kawabe no Momoye no Omi, as generals of the Front Division, while Abe no Hirafu no Omi and Mononobe no Muraji no Kuma took up the mantle of generals of the rear division.  They sent men, along with arms and grain to help relieve the Baekje forces. After sending the initial forces to make way, in the 9th month he conferred a cap of woven stuff on Prince Pung, indicating his high rank in the Yamato court, and gave to him as a wife, the sister of a high ranking court official.  He then sent him off, with the help of Sawi no Muraji no Ajimasa and Hada no Miyatsuko no Takutsu, along with 5,000 troops to escort him back.  They made it to Baekje and were able to meet up with Poksin and their forces. On the Korean peninsula, one of the strategic objectives of the Tang was to create a foothold on the peninsula so that they could finally take out the Kingdom of Goguryeo.  That year was particularly cold, and apparently Tang forces tried to invade Goguryeo again, attacking with siege weapons and other war machines.  The Goguryeo soldiers fought valiantly, but appear to have reached a stalemate. In 662, some of the Yamato material started appearing for Poksin.  It included 100,000 arrows, 500 kin of raw silk, 1000 kin of floss silk, 1000 tan of cloth, 1000 hides of leather, and 3000 koku, or over 15,000 bushels, of seed rice.  The next month, he sent another 300 tan of silk to the king.  The Silk may not make much sense, but it would have likely been a form of currency that they could use to purchase other goods, and it could be used for clothing.  The leather may have even been useful for armor and other accoutrements.   But mostly, this was probably economic aid, outside of the 100,000 arrows.  That same month, the 3rd month of 662, the Tang-Silla alliance was trying to body Goguryeo,  and Goguryeo reached out for aid.  Yamato troops were reportedly sent to help, and the attacks against Goguryeo were blunted.  This really was, now, the Goguryeo-Baekje-Yamato alliance against the Tang-Silla alliance. Poksin and the rebels had holed up in a place called Chuyu, which they were using as their base of operations.  King Pung had arrived, and Poksin was officially made his Minister, but they decided to move out from Chuyu.  It was fine for defense, but the land was not fertile, and they wanted to establish a base where they apparently had more resources, so they found Phisyeong, with rivers to the north and west, and large earthworks to the south and east.  It had fertile land for growing crops, which could then feed the army. However, one of the veterans pointed out the Phisyeong was less than a day's march from their enemies' encampment, and it would be a simple nights march and the army could be at their doorstep.  Chuyu, for all it was not the most appealing place, was much more defensible.  In the end, though, they decided that they would move the capital to Phisyeong. In the 2nd month of the following year, in 663, Silla troops were ravaging southern Baekje, setting fire to the land, possibly trying to starve out any resistance. Sure enough, they moved in close to Phisyeong, and King Pung and his troops realized they were in danger, and moved back to the defensive position of Chuyu.  In the following month, the Yamato and Baekje forces began to take the fight to Silla.  They advanced on Silla territory with 27,000 troops.  They took some cities and fortresses. As all of this was going on, King Pung was beginning to wonder about Poksin and his loyalties.  After all, Poksin had been running things before Pung showed up, and why wouldn't he think he could run things just fine without Pung once this was all over?  He had raised the soldiers, right?  So who would they be loyal to?  Would they be loyal to Pung, who barely knew Baekje, having lived for so long in Yamato.  Or would they be loyal to Poksin, who had rallied them together at the brink of defeat? And so in the 6th month he conferred with his other ministers.  Now it isn't stated in the text, but I suspect that his other ministers were Baekje nobles, and Poksin, well, there really isn't much indication that he had started this out as a man of high station.  They all agreed that Poksin should be dealt with, and so Pung had Poksin taken into custody and beheaded. Now I don't know if it needs to be said, but putting your own top general to death in the middle of a war is not exactly the best thing for morale.  Silla heard about it, and made plans to attack, hoping to catch Baekje offguard.  Baekje heard about it, and they also knew that about 10,000 reinforcements were supposed to be arriving soon from Yamato.  Those were reinforcements that could turn the tide of any fight.  They just needed to make it up the Baek river, known in Japanese as the Haku-suki-no-e. The Silla and Tang troops surrounded the fortress of Chuyu, and Baekje desperately needed the reinforcements from Yamato.  The Tang navy had 170 ships sitting at the mouth of the Baek River, ready to prevent any reinforcements from getting in.  On the 17th day of the 8th month, according to the Nihon Shoki, the first ships of the Yamato fleet arrived, but they could make no headway against the Tang forces.  Based on other records, it appears that the Yamato fleet swelled to more than 400 ships, well over twice the size of the defending Tang navy.  They attacked at least four separate times, but despite their smaller size, the Tang ships had the advantage of the terrain, using the narrowing at the river, and they also had superior tactics.  Although the Yamato soldiers fought ferociously, they couldn't move the Tang fleet. Speaking of fighting, let's talk about what it meant.  There were no cannons or anything like that.  It is likely that the projectile weapons of the day were arrows, and based on the ship designs, it was likely that ships would need to get close and grapple with each other so that soldiers could actually do the fighting.  In this way, ships were like floating battlefields.  If you could burn the ships, then that was something, but fire would also be a danger to your own wooden vessel.  And so it is likely that ships would have to engage with each other and effectively let the other side grapple if you wanted to fight, unless you just wanted to exchange arrows. After being repulsed four times, ten days after they had first engaged, the Tang vessels finally counterattacked.  They were able to swarm out and envelope the right and left flanks or the Yamato ships.  Four hundred ships were burned and sent to the bottom of the sea.  The Yamato forces were unable to break through the blockade and had to turn around.  The Battle of Haku-suki-no-e was a total defeat, and only ten days later, Chuyu fell.  King Pung was able to escape, fleeing to Goguryeo, but the writing was on the wall: The Kingdom of Baekje would never be reconstituted.  The Yamato forces departed the continent and headed back to the archipelago.  They met up at Honye on the 24th day of the 9th month and started out for the archipelago on the following day, eventually returning to Yamato, along with some of the Baekje nobles and ministers who had fled with them. The results of this defeat were resounding.  The battle of Haku-suki-no-e, known in Korean as the Battle of Baekgang, or the Battle of the Baek River, would change the political landscape.  The Tang-Silla alliance would eventually continue to pressure Goguryeo, and the dictator, Yeong Gaesomun, would die three years later, in 666.  He had held out against Tang and Silla, but with his death, there was a moment of chaos as an internal struggle broke out in the Goguryeo court.  The divisions this caused weakened the country, which fell to the Tang-Silla alliance in 667. With both Goguryeo and Baekje gone, suddenly Silla was now the country on the Tang empire's borders.  Without their shared enemies, there was not longer an alliance between the two, and Silla would push back against the Tang.  The Tang held out on the peninsula for another decade, but without Silla support, it became too costly to continually ship supplies to the troops.  Silla was eventually able to force the Tang forces off of the peninsula, and thus began the period on the Korean peninsula known as Unified Silla, where Silla ruled all of the what is now north and south Korea. In the archipelago, in the aftermath of their ally's defeat, there was worry in the Yamato court.  They were afraid that the Tang empire would come after them, next, and they began building fortresses from Tsukushi all the way along Kyushu and the Seto Inland sea area.  These are peninsular style fortresses, often using earthworks and walls that were built up around the tops of mountains, using the terrain.  A large earthwork was put up between the coast and the Dazaifu, in case Tang troops landed in Hakata bay.  Today, many of these earthworks still exist.  Some were even repurposed for gun emplacements in the lead up to what would become World War II, as they were still highly defensible positions. The feared invasion never came, and the fortresses would eventually be abandoned, but they are still a testament to just how seriously Yamato took this threat. Next up, we'll take a look at Naka no Oe's reign.  Naka no Oe is known in the Chronicles as Tenchi Tennou, the sovereign of Heavenly Wisdom.  We'll talk about that some more as we get into his time on the throne.  Since 645 he had been a force in the Yamato court, but he had not taken the throne at a younger age.  Now, however, his power seemed secure.  He took the throne upon his mother's death, and we'll talk about that and more in future episodes. 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

Après l'épisode mensuel, voici l'interview du mois qui fait son retour. Et pour cette rentrée, j'ai la joie d'inviter June Fujiwara, autrice japonais vivant à Paris. Dans cet entretien, nous allons notamment parler du bien-être à la japonaise, de cuisine évidemment, et de la fascination réciproque qui lie nos deux pays. Episode 33, c'est parti !Hébergé par Ausha. Visitez ausha.co/politique-de-confidentialite pour plus d'informations.

Though it may not seem like it on first glance, across Asuka there are various remnants of a much grander period.  Postholes tell the story of palaces built over and over on the same spots.  In addition, there are the various temples and various carved stone statues and other features.  This episode we'll talk about some of the stonework and palace complexes built during Takara Hime's reign, as well as the deadly politics that were still the currency of the court. For more, check out our blogpost at:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-118 Rough Transcription Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 118: Stonework and Treason Before we dive into the episode, a quick shout out to thank Bodil for supporting us on Ko-Fi.com.  For information on how you can also help support the show, we'll have information at the end of the episode or go check out our podcast page at SengokuDaimyo.com. And now, on with the episode:   Soga no Akaye's mansion was busily quiet.  There was plenty of chatter, but it was mostly in hushed tones as servants busied themselves with their work, but wondered what was going on.  They couldn't help but notice the high ranking visitors that had come.  It was to be expected, though.  After all, their master was in charge while the rest of the court was away on a retreat, comforting the sovereign in her grief.  And so why wouldn't people be showing up to meet with him? But nobody was quite sure what all of these visitors were discussing.  They had all gone into an upper story of the building, but the crowd included some powerful figures, including, some said, a royal prince.  Who's who and where people stood in the court were always topics of discussion, but especially now.  After all, what they were dealing with was unprecedented:  who had heard of a sovereign stepping down in the first place, let alone stepping back up because they then outlived their successor?  But she was no spring chicken, either.  Surely it would be her son that would finally ascend the throne next, right?  But that was never guaranteed. Either way, some of the servants grumbled, a change would be nice.  Ever since the royal family had moved back to Asuka, formally making it the capital again, there had been a flurry of activity. Sure, it meant that a certain amount of prestige returned to that region, and houses that had been in disrepair were suddenly occupied again.  But there was so much more.  Just about all of the available labor pool that wasn't working the fields was working on this project or that—there was almost nothing left for anyone else.  How was anyone else supposed to get things done when all of the able-bodied people were already toiling on the sovereign's own vanity projects?  And after building that giant government complex in Naniwa, no less! Such was, I imagine, the hushed rumor-mongering going on in the house when suddenly there came a loud “crack” as of a piece of wood snapping in two.  Later they would learn that an old wooden rest had broken, but that wasn't immediately obvious.  The servants did notice that shortly thereafter, their visitors began to depart, heading back to their own mansions. As for Soga no Akaye, he said nothing, but he seemed drained.  He had a heavy look, as though he was bearing an incredible weight.  Soon thereafter, he requested a brush and some paper, and he began to write out a letter…   So we are talking about the second reign of Takara Hime, who came back to the throne in 655, following the death of her brother, Prince Karu, known as Koutoku Tennou.  For the first time she reigned, the Chroniclers gave her the name “Kougyoku Tennou”, but for her second reign she would be known in the Chronicles as “Saimei Tennou”. We already discussed some of what was recorded as happening in the north during Takara Hime's second reign, with the Emishi and the Mishihase and the expeditions by Abe no Omi no Hirafu.  This episode we are going to focus more on what was going on in the Home Provinces of Yamato—and most specifically the impact that Takara Hime's reign would have on Asuka. I've noted in the past how modern Asuka can seem like your typical rural Japanese town.  Roads weave between rice fields, flanked by densely packed neighborhoods at the foot of the green hills or lining the shores of the Asuka river.  To the north, the valley opens onto the vast Nara basin—a largely flat region that is much more heavily populated but still would be considered “inaka”, or rural country, by anyone from a metropolis like Tokyo or Ohosaka.  To the south, the land rises up into mountain peaks.  Beyond that ridge, the land drops into the Yoshino River Valley, but otherwise the rest of the Kii peninsula, to the south, is covered in a sparsely populated mountain range, where small villages carve out a life in the nooks and crannies between the numerous ridges, finding the rare spot of flat land to build houses and plant their fields.  Looking at it today, Asuka might seem idyllic, rural, and calm.  And yet, back in Takara Hime's day, it was anything but. When Takara Hime moved back to Asuka, she went on a building spree.  In fact, the Chronicles actually complain about all of the building that she was doing, and we'll get to that.  Much of this episode is going to revolve around her building projects, as well as her comings and goings.  While we'll talk about what the Chronicles say, I also want to talk about some of what still remains in Asuka.  Certainly the grand palaces are gone, for the most part leaving little more than post-holes, lying beneath the rice fields.  A bit more obvious are the various kofun, scattered across the landscape, but beyond that there we also see stone works, including numerous carved stones, which range from crude statues, which may have been minimally worked, to elaborate fountains, which would have used natural water pressure to create impressive waterworks.  These latter works demonstrate the sophistication of the masons of the time, and hint at the grandeur of the various palaces, gardens, and mansion complexes that once populated the landscape.  And if you want a little feeling of what it is like, I talked a bit about walking through Asuka in a bonus episode back in March of 2024—if you are interested, look up “Traveling Through the Ancient Nara Basin, Part 2.   So along with what we see in the Chronicles, I want to talk about some of these other features, even if we aren't entirely sure of when, exactly, they were built.  There are a few, though, that we do suspected were built in this period, by Takara Hime, or at least at her order.  So we'll talk about those as we get there. Her reign wasn't all about building things, though.  Politics in the Yamato court remained as cutthroat as ever.  Although Prince Naka no Oe, Takara Hime's son, had been designated as “Crown Prince” he had not taken the throne, despite being of age, and we aren't told why, though the fact that Takara Hime had previously abdicated because of the events of the Isshi Incident, back in 645 (see Episode XX) may have meant that she was still considered the senior eligible member of the royal line.  Then there was the case of Prince Arima.  Prince Arima was the son of Karu, aka Koutoku Tenno, which made him Naka no Oe's cousin.  This wouldn't have meant anything had his father not ascended to the throne.  And under the succession practices of the time, although Naka no Oe was designated as the Crown Prince, that wasn't a guarantee that he would be next in line, so Prince Arima may have been a potential candidate.  However, there is at least one source that says Prince Arima was not yet of age, but still a teenager.  Still, that was no doubt old enough for some in the court to support him—and as we'll see in later centuries, age limits could be negotiable.  So we'll also discuss that, as well. So let's get into it. When the royal family first moved back to Asuka, in 653,  they took up residence in the temporary palace of Kahabe no Miya.  Unfortunately, this name doesn't tell us much about where the palace was located.  There is one theory that the Kawabe no Miya might be at what is known as the Asuka Inabuchi Palace site, up in the Asuka river valley, in the modern Iwaido district, a little south of the famous Ishibutai kofun site.  This is believed to have been a palace—or at least the mansion of some very wealthy family—given its layout, including what appears to be a cobblestone courtyard, and the lack of any roof tiles, which would have been reserved for temples, at that time. The term “temporary” palace comes up a lot in the Chronicles.  In most of the cases where it is used, it suggests that there was already a building in place and the sovereign took up residence there, hence the term “temporary” palace.  Often times we see that a temporary palace is said to have been “built”, at which point I have to wonder if that is truly the case—did they actually build a brand new structure to temporarily house the sovereign and the royal family—or does it just refer to the fact that they may have taken an existing compound and perhaps made some slight changes to accommodate the royal dignity?  Unfortunately, the Chronicles don't really go into much detail. Wherever the Kawabe no Miya happened to be, it does seem to have been temporary, as we later see Takara Hime back at the Itabuki palace, and indeed she reascended the throne there in 655.  The Itabuki palace first shows up in Takara hime's first reign, and seems to be one of at least two royal palaces in Asuka at the time, the other one being the Woharida Palace.  The Woharida palace had been around for a while – it was noted as early as 603, in the reign of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tenno, and there is the suggestion that it was still around in the time that Karu, aka Kotoku Tenno, was reigning.  We know that Takara Hime took up residence there at some point during her own reign as well.  But in 643 she had the Itabuki palace built, though apparently that didn't mean that the Oharida palace was completely torn down and abandoned – it just was no longer the primary site of court ritual.  Of course, the Itabuki palace wouldn't be the seat of the government for long, either, as the Isshi Incident took place there in 645, and Karu would subsequently move the capital to Naniwa, building the Toyosaki palace. And so the Itabuki palace remained, but was not exactly kept up, so that when the royal family returned to Asuka, it wasn't ready for them to inhabit, and likely required extensive renovation.  Nonetheless, it was being inhabited two years later, when Takara hime again ascended the throne. A quick note here about the name “Itabuki”, because we think that this likely referred to a very specific style of construction that was used.  Up to this point, as far as we can tell, the primary roofing material for all major buildings was a kind of local thatching – we still see this today on some shrines and other buildings.  “Itabuki”, in contrast, refers to a roof made with wooden boards.  Today, we have buildings with rooves where the roof shingles are overlapping boards of wood or bark from the cypress tree: thin layers stacked one on top of the other.  Even today, the modern Imperial Palace in Kyoto uses wood shingles rather than the curved roof tiles that many people think of when they think of Asian architecture. So that's the Itabuki palace, all spruced up and ready for Takara hime to occupy again.  That said, remember the older Woharida palace, the other one in Asuka? Later in 655, a project was started to update that palace as well.  We are told that as of the 13th day of the 10th month there had been a plan to add roof tiles to one of the buildings at the Woharida palace, but unfortunately much of the timber from the mountains and valleys that was designated for the project was found to be too weak from rot, and so they decided to not go forward with that plan.  I would note here that tiled rooves, while they might seen somewhat easier to put together—after all, you only need a layer of interlocking and overlapping tiles—are extremely heavy.  They are known to deform the wooden structures underneath them, and can weigh hundreds of pounds per square foot.  Much of the classic shape of these tiled rooves developed over time to compensate for some of that weight, so this makes me wonder if the wood the palace craftspeople brought in was really that rotten, or if it was just not strong enough for the work that they were trying to do.  After all, were they applying the same techniques as for a temple, or were they simply trying to replace traditional thatching or shingles with clay tiles?  Either way, the project failed, even after all of the work that had gone into it.  This is a small entry in the Chronicles, but it would have meant levying corvee labor that had to go out to the designated regions to source the timber, not to mention setting up the kilns to make the tiles, as well as other preparations that would have been necessary.  In other words, a lot of work, for apparently no payoff. On top of that, we are told that around that time, in the winter of that year—which would have been the 10th, 11th, or 12th month, roughly corresponding from late November to February of the following year—the Itabuki palace caught fire and burned down, and so the sovereign and her retinue decamped to the temporary palace of Kawara – the River Plain or Field. “Kawara” could theoretically refer to just about any flat area by a river. Aston points out that “Kawara” can also mean “rooftile”, which is interesting given what we just talked about, the entry immediately before that deals with attempting to add new rooftiles to a part of the Oharida palace. However, there is some thought that this refers to the Kawara Temple, Kawaradera, and you can find claims that Kawaradera was built on the site of the temporary palace.  There is a reference to Kawaradera in the previous reign, in the year 653, though another source apparently says it was talking about Yamadadera, instead.  There isn't another mention of “Kawaradera” that I can find until 673, so it is entirely possible that the temple started its life off as a mansion or even a temporary royal palace of some kind, and was later turned into a temple. Kawaradera itself is rather interesting.  If you visit the site, today, you can see large stone bases that help to demonstrate the size of the ancient temple.  It was one of the four Great Temples of Asuka, along with Asukadera, Kudara Ohodera, and Yakushiji.  And yet, unlike the other three, we don't have clear indications about its founding in the Chronicles.  When the capital eventually moved to Heijo-kyo, in Nara city, many of the other temples were removed to the new capital, but not, as far as I can see, Kawaradera.  Donald McCallum suggests that this is because it was replaced, instead, by Koufukuji, a temple with deep ties to the descendants of Nakatomi no Kamatari, the Fujiwara clan.  He suggests that mention of the temple in the official records may have even been suppressed by individuals such as Fujiwara no Fubito.  Kawaradera remained in Asuka.  Eventually it fell to ruin, but there is still a small temple on the site, known as Gu-fuku-ji. As for the Kawara Palace, if Kawaradera really was in operation by 653, it is possible that the sovereign took over some of the buildings at Kawaradera, or perhaps the temporary palace was simply somewhere nearby. In any case, they don't seem to have stayed there for too long—they started work on a new palace the following year.  This was the later Okamoto Palace, and from what we can tell it was built on the same site as the Itabuki Palace, south of Asukadera.  This site would see multiple palaces over the years, and even today you can go and see some of the post-holes that they have found, indicating the size of the complex through the years. Based on the layout and size of the Asuka palaces, it seems that these early palaces focused on the “dairi”, the private quarters of the sovereign.  This seems to have ignored the reforms made with the Toyosaki palace design in Naniwa in the early 650s.  That palace, which was built on an incredibly grand scale, consisted of both the private quarters and the public government offices.  But in Asuka the royal family's “palace” appears to have only consisted of the private quarters, for the most part.  So where was the actual bureaucracy happening?  Were there other facilities we don't know about?  Or perhaps, the Toyosaki palace itself was overly ambitious, and there wasn't actually the staff for such a grand complex?  After all, they were just setting up the bureaucracy and perhaps their reach had exceeded their grasp.  Or was it the case that things werestill being run out of the palace complex in Naniwa while the sovereign lived in Asuka?  That seems to have been roughly 10 hours away, by foot, though perhaps only half that by horse. The northern end of the Asuka valley is not as well suited to a large palace complex.  Not only was it already full of temples and the like, but the ground itself rises to the south, and the hills on either side start to come together.  It certainly isn't the kind of place to layout a grand city.  But perhaps that was not the intent—at least not immediately.  It didn't matter much, though, because the Later Okamoto palace, as it came to be known, was not long for this world.  Scarcely had it been built and occupied but that it caught fire and burned down—another expenditure of funds and labor that were once more counted as nothing. In fact, Takara hime was apparently on a tear, and went ahead and initiated quite a few projects that happened in 656.  We are told that nearby Tamu Peak was crowned with a circular enclosure, close to where two “tsuki” trees grew.  A “lofty” building was erected and called both Futatsuki no Miya (the Palace of the Two Tsuki) and Amatsu Miya (the Palace of Heaven).  She also had a new palace erected in Yoshino, possibly as a seasonal retreat.  And with this she was just getting started. She also had laborers dig a canal all the way from the western end of Mt. Kaguyama all the way to Mt. Isonokami.  We are told that 200 barges were then loaded with stone from Mt. Isonokami and hauled to the mountain east of the palace, where the stones were piled up to form a wall.  This last one had people up in arms.  They called the canal the “mad canal” and said that it wasted the labor of over 30,000 people.  On top of that, she used 70,000 men to build the wall.  To top it all off, the timber for the palace rotted away and the top of the mountain where they were building collapsed.  We are told that people cursed it all, crying out: “May the mound built at Iso no Kami break down of itself as fast as it is built.” So, yeah, people weren't too happy.  We, however, just might be – because all of this building work? It leaves traces in the landscape. We aren't always sure about locations in the Chronicles, as it is very easy for names to shift over time or for things to be renamed at a later date. But what we do know is that there are quite a few examples of stone work in the Asuka region.  There is the kame-ishi stone that looks only vaguely carved—it appears to have two carved eyes, but otherwise appears to use the natural shape of the stone to evoke a tortoise—that sits near the site of Kawaradera and Tachibana-dera.  There are the various saruishi—carved figures that are purportedly based on saru, or monkeys, but are likely meant to represent people.  They may have once adorned an elite family's garden or similar, and they were since moved to the tomb of Kibitsu hime.  There are various fountains and waterworks.  And then there are the Sakafune-ishi ruins, sitting along a ridge east of the palace site.  This consists of a large stone up on the hill, with carved channels that appear to be made to channel water poured into the grooves.  At the bottom of the hill there is a turtle shaped stone basin, filled from a boat-shaped water tank.  Across the hill is example of stone work, including possible walls. Given the apparent age of everything, and its location, it is thought that this may all be part of the Futatsuki no Miya complex that Takara hime built.  Unfortunately, it is still not clear how it was meant to operate.  After Asuka was abandoned as the capital, knowledge of the site also disappeared.  There were some stories that arose about the stone that it was used for some kind of sake-brewing, hence the name, but nothing truly concrete has arisen.  There may have been other structures, perhaps made of wood, that are no longer present, and the stone itself appears to have broken and eroded away over the years.  It may have been meant as a ritual site, or perhaps it was just built as some kind of wonder for the people.  It doesn't fit into any clear model of any Buddhist or even ancient Shinto practice, nor is it clearly connected to other continental practices.  We certainly know that they did plenty with water, given the number of waterworks and other carved stones, including a model of Mt. Sumera, we are told was built to the west of Asukadera on the 15th day of the 7th month of the following year—657. Maybe these are remnants of that project Whatever its purpose, the Sakafune-ishi site does seem to compare favorably with what is described in the Nihon Shoki, and perhaps it was considered such a waste of resources just because it didn't fit in with the prevailing ritual culture.  Maybe Takara hime was too artistically avant-garde for her time. “Wasting resources” would, in fact, become a chief complaint against Takara Hime during her time on the throne.  And that takes us from seemingly harmless construction projects into the court politics of the day.  Now as you should recall, Prince Naka no Oe, Takara Hime's son, was the Crown Prince at this point, and quite influential.  He was supported by various courtiers, such as Nakatomi no Kamatari, the Naidaijin, but his eventual ascendancy to the throne was not entirely assured.  We've seen plenty of examples where someone would seem to be in line for the throne and they didn't ever make it.  We know that there were several other royal princes at this time.  One of the youngest was Prince Takeru, a grandson of Takara Hime, who was born around 651.  Then there was Prince Naka no Oe's brother, Prince Ohoama.  He was also one of Takara Hime's sons, and while we haven't heard much of him in the narrative, we will definitely see more of him in the future.  On top of the two of them, there is Prince Arima, whom I talked about at the beginning of the episode.  Prince Arima was mentioned as the son of Karu and Wotarashi Hime, but his mother was not Karu's Queen—that was Hashibito, daughter of Okinaga Tarashi-hi Hironuka, aka Jomei Tennou, and Takara Hime.  Yup, Karu basically married his own niece, though that may have been an attempt to keep the most direct connection possible to the royal line.  Arima's mom Wotarashi Hime, on the other hand, was the daughter of Abe no Kurahashi no Oho-omi—the Minister of the Left, or Sadaijin, during Karu's reign.  Strictly speaking, based on the way that the succession has been depicted so far, Prince Arima wouldn't technically meet the requirements.  That said, we've seen where that has been bypassed in the past, and no doubt people were aware just how easily it would be to rewrite the history, if they had to.  He was young—but not so young that he couldn't be involved in the politics of the court. Other than a note about his parentage at the start of Karu's reign, Prince Arima isn't mentioned again until the ninth month of 657, and right off the bat you can tell where the Chroniclers fall on his personality.  They describe him as deceitful, and claim that he pretended to be insane—a term that doesn't really show up elsewhere, so it is hard to know what exactly is meant.  Is he the Hamlet of his age?  Arima used this as an excuse to go to Muro Onsen—thought to be modern Shirahama Hot Springs, on the southwestern end of the Kii Peninsula.   When he came back he sang its praises, claiming that “scarce had I seen that region, when my complaint disappeared of itself.”  The Queen wanted to go and see for herself. Overall, this hardly seems to be very “deceitful”, though it is suspected that Arima may have feigned an illness to avoid some of the politics around the start of the new reign.  Given his father Karu's recent death, it would likely have been easy enough to claim that he was greatly depressed.  We aren't told how long he stayed at Muro Onsen, but presumably it was for some time. At the start of the following year, on the 13th day of the first month, Kose no Tokuda no Omi, the Sadaijin, or Minister of the Left, passed away.  This would have no doubt created some ripples, but little more is said—we don't even have the name of who succeeded him in the position, at least not in the Nihon Shoki.  Four months later, which is to say in the fifth month of that same year, 658, Prince Takeru passed away.  He was only 8 years old, but as the grandson of Takara Hime a temporary tomb was constructed in the Imaki valley.  Takara Hime lamented his death greatly, and in the 10th month, she took Arima's advice and went to visit the Ki Onsen.  She had several poems composed and handed them to Hata no Ohokura no Miyatsuko no Mari to record them for posterity. While she was away, Soga no Akaye no Omi was the acting official in charge.  And several weeks in, he addressed Prince Arima.  He noted that there were three problems with Takara Hime's government. First – She builds treasuries on a great scale, collecting the riches of the people. Second – She wastes the public grain revenue in digging long canals. Third – She loads barges with stones and transports them to be piled up into a hill. This may have been popular opinion, but it was also rather treasonous talk.  Prince Arima simply smiled and said: “I have only now come to an age where I am fit to bear arms.” So, yeah, he was basically saying that he was old enough to take up arms—and presumably lead others in a rebellion, if that was the case. Two days later, on the fifth day of the 11th month, Prince Arima met Akaye at his mansion.  They went into one of the upper stories, where they wouldn't be interrupted, and there they conspired together.  Others were also involved, it seems—Mori no Kimi no Oho-ishi, Sakahibe no Muraji no Kusuri, and Shihoya no Muraji no Konoshiro.  There are a few different books that claim to record what the plans were.  One says that Soga no Akaye, Shihoya no Konoshiro, Mori no Oho-ishi, and Sakahibe no Kusuri divined the future of their conspiracy by drawing slips of paper, to see how it would turn out.  Another book states that Arima claimed he would burn down the palace and take 500 men to march down south.  There he would waylay Takara Hime at the harbour of Muro.  They were going to exile her to Awaji island, setting up a fleet of ships to ensure she could never leave. As they were discussing what to do—no doubt talking about how the Prince could take the throne, a leg-rest that they were using broke.  Another book claims it was an arm-rest, instead, but otherwise the details are the same.  They both agreed that was a bad omen, and decided not to proceed any further with their plans.  Prince Arima returned home, but apparently Soga no Akaye had a change of heart.  He apparently figured that his only way out was to turn in the others and admit everything.  And so, that night, Akaye sent Mononobe no Enowi no Muraji no Shibi, who was in charge of the labourers working on the palace.  They surrounded the palace and then Akaye sent a mounted courier to inform Takara Hime. That letter must have laid everything out.  Takara hime had the conspirators arrested and brought to Ki Onsen.  Arima's servant, Nihitabe no Muraji no Yonemaro, followed them.  Prince Naka no Oe himself questioned Arima about why he plotted treason.  Arima's answer is a bit cryptic:  “Heaven and Akaye know.” He responded, “I do not understand at all.” In the end, all of the conspirators were found guilty, and executed.  Tajihi no Wosaha no Muraji no Kuniso was sent to do the task.  Prince Arima was strangled at the Fujishiro acclivity, along with Shihoya no Konoshiro and Nihitabe no Yonemaro.  Before being executed, Konoshiro made a rather macabre request, asking that—presumably after he was dead—they cut off his right hand and make it a national treasure.  The other two conspirators, Mori no Oho-ishi and Sakahibe no Kusuri, were merely banished, presumably having played less of a role. Once again, we must remember that we are only getting one side of the story.  It is definitely convenient for Naka no Oe to have a potential rival out of the way.  At the same time, it is certainly plausible that there was more than a little bit of consternation about how Takara Hime had been spending so much on all of these construction projects.  And yet… were these Takara Hime's projects, alone? Remember, Prince Naka no Oe seems to have had a fair bit of clout.  He orchestrated the original coup, where he killed Soga no Iruka and his father.  And then he declined the throne, but became a major part of the new government.  He was apparently powerful enough that he organized the move back to Asuka against the wishes of Karu no Ohokimi. So would all of these projects have been done without his involvement? This is an area where I have to admit that I probably need to check my bias.  On the one hand, it is rare enough in patriarchal accounts to see women with agency and in positions of power, and so it is easy enough to make an assumption that any agency they are given in the record, they likely had more than is mentioned.  At the same time, in this particular instance, at least, Takara Hime's role in this could just as easily be a cover to preserve the image of Naka no Oe, who is certainly portrayed as a hero figure, bringing much needed change and modernization—such as it was—to Yamato.  His enemies are always shown to be in the wrong, and even if he is accused of something horrible—such as the death of Soga no Ishikawa no Maro—it turns out that it was actually the fault of someone else, such as the person who slandered Maro to him in the first place.  So could it be that these unpopular construction projects were actually his doing, all along?  Was the conspiracy simply to overthrow Takara Hime, or was it focused on both her and Naka no Oe, together? To be honest, I couldn't say for certain.  All we have to go on is what the Chroniclers tell us, and they lay the blame fairly firmly at the feet of Takara Hime.  But do remember that Naka no Oe is not necessarily the Shining Prince that he is often made out to be, and that people rarely come to or stay in power in a society like Yamato's by being nice all the time.  We certainly know what he is capable of from the Isshi Incident, and we shouldn't forget that in the narrative. Now when Takara Hime returned from Ki Onsen after winter ended, in the new year.  We are told that she got back on the third day of the first month of 659.  A couple of months later, on the first day of the third month, she went to Yoshino and held a banquet there—no doubt at the palace she had had constructed.  This may have been at the site of Miyataki Ruins, where excavations have revealed numerous examples of roof tiles and other artifacts that may have come from a building from the Asuka or Nara era. The visit to Yoshino must have been quick, however, as we are told that two days later she visited Hira-ura in Afumi, on the shores of Lake Biwa.  Perhaps this only means she left two days later, since that must have been quite the journey back in the day.  Would she have traveled on horseback, or in a carriage or something similar?  No doubt a full procession would take time, and I doubt that the sovereign would push herself.  We also don't have a reason for her to go, that I can see.  It is an odd entry, to say the least. And I think it may be best to end it there.  I do encourage anyone who can to get down to Asuka and plan to spend a couple of days if you really want to get around.  You may want to rent a bike or even a car to get to everything, though you can walk to most things.  There are several museums and cultural centers set up to expound upon Asuka culture, with a focus on the history and archaeology specifically of that period. The palace site where Takara Hime ruled would continue to be the location of at least two more palaces, which we'll talk about in time.  Before that, though, we'll want to cover a few more things.  Most importantly, we'll want to talk about the relationship with lands outside of the archipelago.  We'll discuss the man from Tukhara—who may have simply been from the Ryukyu islands, or possible from as far aways the Dvaravati Kingdom, in modern day Thailand, or even from the western edge of India and Pakistan, having traveled the Silk Road.  Some have even suggested that he may be a Tocharian, and we'll talk about what that means.  And then, before we finish, we'll have to talk about everything else going on, including the conclusion of the Tang-Baekje war. Until then thank you 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.    

On fête pas le nouveau millénaire mais pour fêter la nouvelle année on en traverse 1000 avec Chiyoko Fujiwara de Millenium Actress ! Souvenirs, perception, temps (qui n'existe pas), image et quête sans fin, on revient sur la figure de la shōjo et on se demande si au final le plus important ce serait pas le voyage (et la libération). Merci à Jayhan (@JayhanOfficial) pour les super intro et outro ! Tu peux nous suivre sur tous les réseaux : @codexespod et nous laisser une note et un commentaire sympa si tu veux. Force et amour. Ressources : - « La structure cristalline dans Millenium Actress » de Stéphane Collignon. 2003-2004 - « Millenium Actress » de Guillaume Lasvigne. 2011 https://www.courte-focale.fr/cinema/analyses/millennium-actress/ - « L'influence chez Satoshi Kon : De la singularité des références à l'incarnation du monde actuel » mémoire de recherche d'Oriane SIDRE. 2013-2014 - Vidéo « Why you need to see Satoshi Kon's Millenium Actress » d'Under The Scope. 2019 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCECYyTvOFg - « Millenium Actress and Japanese Film » de Jonathan Clements. 2020 https://blog.alltheanime.com/millennium-actress-japanese-film/ - Vidéo « The Satoshi Kon Problem » de Stevem. 2020 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9GzZuRMwbW4 - Vidéo « La bonne façon de briser l'espace-temps par Satoshi Kon (Millenium Actress) » de Luministe. 2023 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nfDJJ23J7r8 - « Millenium Actress, la dernière séance » de Malik-Djamel Amazigh Houha. http://rockyrama.com/super-stylo-article/millennium-actress-la-derniere-seance - The Gate of Desire de Susumu Hirasawa, morceau de la BO de Millenium Actress joué pendant l'épisode. - Rotation LOTUS2 de Susumu Hirasawa, morceau de la BO de Millenium Actress joué à la fin de l'épisode.

Quest'anno per Halloween tornano qui sul Podcast le vicende dedicate allo Sterminatore di demoni più famoso della storia dei samurai, sto parlando ovviamente di Minamoto no Raikō.L'anno scorso vi ho parlato di come Raikō abbia cacciato e sottomesso il terribile yokai aracnide Tsuchigumo, in compagnia del suo fedele vassallo Watanabe no Tsuna. Quest'anno la posta in gioco è ancora più alta.Il nemico da affrontare non sarà un semplice yokai, ma sarà colui che, secondo alcune versioni di questa leggenda, era definito come il “Dairokuten no Mahō” (第六天の魔王), “Re demone del sesto cielo”, e con un nome così altisonante non poteva essere un avversario così facile da superare. Infatti, Raikō non sarà da solo, ma avrà con sé tutti i suoi vassalli più fidati, i cosiddetti “Shitenno”(四天王) e anche un amico, molto famoso in quel periodo, anche perché appartenente a una famiglia tutt'altro che di poco conto, Fujiwara no Yasamusa. Gli Shitenno invece erano Watanabe no Tsuna, Usui Sadamitsu, Urabe Suetake e Sakata Kintoki. E nonostante tutto, un piccolo aiutino divino sarà comunque necessario.La leggenda di Shuten Dōji fa parte di un genere letterario dibattuto chiamato “otogi zōshi”(お伽草子) cioè storie, scritte soprattutto nel periodo Muromachi, che parlavano di avventure in cui i protagonisti erano una compagnia di persone. Di questa esistono varie versioni, che fanno capo a due versioni principali, quella Oeyama e quella Ibukiyama. Tra queste, la differenza sostanziale è il luogo dove si svolgono i fatti, in una, la più antica il tutto si svolge sul monte Oe, mentre nell'altra sul monte Ibuki.Ciò che vi racconterò io oggi è una mia libera interpretazione del mito originale, la versione Oeyama, mixata alla versione recente pubblicata nel 18° secolo a opera di Shibukawa Seiemon, quest'ultima è facilmente reperibile su internet tradotta anche in inglese.La traduzione a cui mi sono ispirato si trova nel libro "Japanese Demon Lore", di Noriko T.Reider.La trascrizione è disponibile sul sito:https://www.podcastdelloshogun.itCerca il podcast sui social!https://www.facebook.com/podcastdelloshogunhttps://www.instagram.com/podcastdelloshogun/https://www.tiktok.com/@podcastdelloshogun---Mi trovi anche su Spotify:https://open.spotify.com/show/18pSpwnHNWevxRPaFpXh26Su Apple Podcast:https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/podcast-dello-shogun/id1649546421Su Youtube:https://www.youtube.com/@PodcastDelloShogunSu Spreaker:https://www.spreaker.com/show/podcast-dello-shogun---Se desideri sostenere il podcast, puoi farlo in due modi:- Tramite ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/podcastdelloshogun- Tramite Paypal: https://paypal.me/podcastdelloshogun---#podcast #samurai #shogun #storia #japan #japanese #giappone #giapponese #mitologia #halloween #yokai #podshogunShuten Doji, Shuten Douji, Minamoto no Yorimitsu, Fujiwara, Ibaraki Doji

Hour two of The V Show, The Valvanos talk about made up games after Nick damn near breaks a light with a football in the office.  We learn about The Fujiwara effect in an impromptu WWKW.  Bob saw a Triple Play at Shea....kinda.  We look at the post season push of MLB with a 6 in 10.  See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

On this episode we have a very special guest, Mariko Fujiwara who was married to the one and only, Mr Fast Eddie Clarke. Tune into hear her memories of the life and times of the legendary Motörhead guitarist and also a special guest appearance from his much loved dog, Cookie. Presented by Howard H SmithSee Privacy Policy at https://art19.com/privacy and California Privacy Notice at https://art19.com/privacy#do-not-sell-my-info.

Japan's Cultural Affairs Council urged the government Monday to propose the Asuka-Fujiwara archeological sites in the western prefecture of Nara as a candidate for UNESCO World Cultural Heritage designation in 2026.

This is Pastor Harry Fujiwara's Sunday message, taken from the Gospel of Luke, Chapter 13, Verses 1-9.

We are finally starting to get into the Taika era and the Taika reforms, which would really start the transformation of Yamato into the bureaucratic state of the Nara period.  This episode, we look back at how the Yamato state had been changing up to this point, some of the possible influences and precursors, and then dive into some of the first edicts, largely dealing with sending out governors to the provinces.  These governors, or "kokushi", were originally temporary positions, limited in what they could do.  More info over at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-108  Rough Transcript   Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Episode 108: The Great Change ……………….. The Kuni no Miyatsuko, hereditary leader of his lands, likely heard the news before they arrived.  Apparently Yamato was sending out an official—a kokushi—who was going to be doing some sort of survey.  Whatever.  Just another person from Yamato's court—what did it matter?  His family had been in charge of the local lands for as long as anyone remembered, and while they might give nominal fealty to the Oho-kimi in Yamato, along with the occasional bit of taxes, paid in rice, what consequence was it to him?  Some might say he was a big fish in a small pond, but it was his pond.  Always had been, and always would be.  Wouldn't it? ……………….. And we are back with our regular chronological podcast, and we are finally going to pick back up on the fall out from the events of 645, the Isshi Incident, when Prince Naka no Oe orchestrated the murder of Soga no Iruka, and later his father, Soga no Emishi, in full view of the court, including his mother, Takara, aka Kougyoku Tennou.  That incident would be the start of Naka no Oe's own rise to power and the reshaping of Yamato from the its longstanding clan based system of government to a new national government of laws and punishments, known generally as the Ritsuryo system.  This episode we'll dive into this new system and the so-called “Taika reforms” that brought it about, the changes it ushered in, and the ripples this sent throughout the entire archipelago.     The term “Taika” itself means “Great Change”, and it isn't clear to me if it was picked because they expected to be making big changes or after the fact, but in the minds of most Japanese historians it is quite accurate. The entire system actually took about a century or so to really come together—we often think of the Ritsuryo system as it was in its final version.  This period, though, is where things kicked off, so we'll be setting the stage and talking about some of the edicts during this period that eventually became the written code of the Ritsuryo system.  This was started by Naka no Oe who, spoiler alert, would eventually reign as sovereign and be known as Tenchi Tennou.  The system he helps put into place would continue to be used and refined even after his death and even after the end of the period covered by the Nihon Shoki. So after some background, we'll get to some of the very first edicts this episode, and then spend more time on them again, in the future. The RitsuryoThe Ritsuryo system was based largely on continental models, with Confucian ideals and the legal code of the Tang dynasty having particular influence.  And as we discuss these changes, which were huge, I'll start with some clarifications and caveats.  This was a system of government based largely on continental models, with Confucian ideals and the legal code of the Tang dynasty having particular influence.  That   One of the first things to emphasize is that said, itthis wasn't exactly an immediate revolution and reformation.  Based on the entries in the Nihon Shoki, some of the work had already  been started long before Naka no Oe came on the scene, largely attributed to the influence of Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi, and things like the 17 article constitution and rank system, which we discussed back in episode 95.  And even after its initial implementation, there would come various tweaks to the system.  Although there are numerous edicts made in the initial years of what is known as the Taika era, leading this change to often be given the nickname of the “Taika reforms”, the earliest formal administrative codes would come much later, firming up in the 8th century. Another thing to keep in mind as we realize, as we start looking at these changes is that the Yamato courtit didn't necessarily discard the old system, either.  Changes like this take time, and something even if it is implemented for a year or two , it might not stick.  This is one of the reasons that it is important that two of the apparent architects of the new system for these changes were there present through much of its implementation, actively guiding and shaping the process direction that the changes would take.  These two individuals at wereas Prince Naka no Oe and Nakatomi no Kamako, later known in this reign as Kamatari, which is the name I'm going to use from here on out as it is the much more well known in case anyone decides to look up information later. Finally, I would also note that many of these changes were being applied at the level of the elites of society, how they organized power and how they approached governance – but  we should also spare a thought for how this affected the majority of people.  After all, it was the majority of people who were working the fields, cutting the wood, or fishing the seas.  The elites were often otherwise engaged, and whichthat isn't to say that they did nothing.  Often they were coordinating and bringing things together, but that was a smaller part of the overall population.  In these reforms we get to see some rare glimpses into how all of thisit may have affected people beyond just the court elites. To set this up, let's start with a look at what brought us here, and how things changed over time and how they had governed things up until now—or at least as best as we can make out from our various sources.  From there we can take a look at some of the earliest edicts related to the changes evolution in the government, focusing how they focused on consolidating the power and support at the center of the Yamato court and starteding to make more concrete Yamato's control across the rest of the archipelago. We've covered much of the development of complex society in Yamato this in previous episodes:  How Yayoi society came with or at least introduced a form of stratification evident in graves, grave goods, as well as other patterns of lifeways.  Local elites rose up to oversee communities, and eventually extended their influence, creating the various “kuni”, or countries—regional collections of communities that came together under a leadership structure and some shared cultural values.   Some of the earliest stories give us the Hiko-Hime leadership structure, often with a male and female head of state, though sometimes shown as elder and younger co-rulers.  This is backed up by some evidence in the kofun era, as we see large, single-purpose tomb mounds built for what we can only assume are the elite.  Their construction would have required control of a large labor force, indicating a certain amount of their power, and their shape and various burial goods have further suggested, at least to scholars like Kishimoto, that there may have been a division of rulership, at least early on. We've talked about the spread of Yamato style round keyhole shaped kofun through the archipelago and how the popularity of that kofun shape demonstrated Yamato's influence but  in the shape of their kofun, but that didn't necessarily accompany a change in  change the actual dynamics of local government, other than demonstrating Yamato's increased influence.  The next thing we see in the record, I would argue, is the change to a familial based system, or the Bemin-sei.  This is what we've talked about periodically in terms of both the uji, familial groups or clans, and the “be” familial or occupational groups, but here I'll give an overview of the whole practice and what its development means in the sense of changing approaches to organizing and governing a complex society. The Bemin system was a means of further dividing and categorizing people in society, .  It is  rooted in continental concepts of a familial group.  Prior to the 5th century, there isn't a clear indication of familial clans in Yamato, though that doesn't mean people didn't know where they were from.  They still remembered who their ancestors were, and that was important, often tracing back to mythical and legendary individuals who are recorded as gods, or kami.  I suspect, however, that in the smaller communities of the Yayoi period, where you were from was as a good an indicator of your relationships as anything else.  Farming is a pretty sedentary lifestyle, and if you know all of your neighbors there isn't as much need to divide each other up into specific familial groups.  It was more important that I'm from this village or region than I'm from this particular family. And so the oldest stories in the Nihon Shoki and the Kojiki only refer to individuals by their names or by locatives.  Occasionally we will be told that so-and-so was an ancestor of this or that uji, or clan, but it is telling that they don't use the clan name with that person. Surnames do become important, however, in the Bemin system.  But they are only really important for those in the upper tiers of society.  Amongst the farmers and other commoners—the heimin—you often won't find specific surnames, or people will use pure locatives or something similar to refer to a person.  Surnames were for people a little further up the social food chain. From what we can tell, the uji structure likely started with the “-Be” families, trying to set up groups of individuals who were in charge of certain economic activities beyond just farming the land.  The Imbe, the Mononobe, the Abe, the Kuratsukuribe, and the Kusakabe are all examples of family names ending in “-Be”.  Some, like Kuratsukuribe, Inukaibe, and Umakaibe are all fairly straightforward:  These are groups that were set up around particular industries.  Kuratsukuri literally means “saddle-making”, so the Kuratsukuri-be are the saddlemakers.  Inukai and Umakai refer to the ones who kept or raised the dogs and horses. Setting up a familial or clan unit around a certain profession was one way of organizing society so that you had the things that you needed.  Such jobs were often inherited, anyway, passing from father to son, mother to daughter, etc.  So it makes some sense.  And the clan, or uji, structure meant that there was a person or persons at the head of the familial unit who could be responsible for coordinating efforts across different, sometimes dispersed, groups of people. The thing is, there is no indication that the people in these professions were necessarily related to each other prior to this organization, and in many ways the idea that they were a family with a common ancestor was a created fiction.  There may have been some relationship—for instance, weaver groups were often centered on immigrant groups that came over from the continent with knowledge of specific techniques, so there was likely some pre-existing relationship, but they weren't necessarily what we would consider family, related by blood, to one another. Over time these groups became actual clans—children were born into them and remained, unless they specifically were split off into a different uji for some reason.  Some of them dropped the “-Be” part of their name—in some instances it seems this may have created a distinction between the line at the head of the clan vice the other members, but that distinction isn't entirely clear.  Furthermore, members of these clans were not, ultimately, restricted to the hereditary jobs for which the clan had been created.  There are also clans that appear to be more about location, possibly local rulers or magnates.  For example, there are the Munakata and the Miwa, referring to local chiefs or lords of the Munakata and Miwa areas, both important ritual areas. The clans formed another function as well, as each clan had a kabane, which was an early form of social rank.  Some of these ranks appear to have come from titles or positions.  So, for instance, you have the Omi, the Muraji, the Kimi, and the Atahe.  Early on, Muraji appears to be the more prestigious title, with the Ohomuraji being the head of a Muraji level house that was also a key member of the government.  Omi, meaning minister, eventually came to be seen as more prestigious, however.  Meanwhile, both were more presitiousprestigious than the term “Kimi”, although that may have originated as a term for the rulers of the local countries, which makes sense if you consider that the Yamato sovereign was the Oho-kimi, or the Great Kimi, much as the Oho-omi was in charge of an Omi group and the Ohomuraji was in charge of a Muraji level house.  There are also Omi and Muraji households for whom there is no Oho-omi or Oho-muraji ever mentioned, but only members of the Omi and Muraji ranked families were considered for positions at the top of the court hierarchy.  This All of this clan and rank system began to change in the 6th century during the reign of Toyomike Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tenno, with the introduction of the 17 article constitution and new rank system.  While both of these developments are of debatable veracity, since the chroniclers likely made this change seem much more structured than it actually was in practice, —there is probably at least something to the idea that the Yamato court y werewas adopting more continental ideas regarding state governance.  The rank system, in particular, was a step towards recognizing individuals above simply their inherited social position.  While kabane rank was applied to an entire uji, the new rank was applied to individuals alone, meaning that an individual could be recognized without necessarily rewarding every other person holding their same surname.  At the same time, more and more books were coming in from the continent.  Some of these were focused on the new Buddhist religion, but there were also other works, based on a variety of subjects and introducing the Yamato court to some of the philosophical ideas of what government should be.  And then there were various envoys sent to the Sui and Tang courts in the early 7th century, where they would have seen how things were working there. Nonetheless, to be clear, we don't know it is unclear just how far Yamato control extended across the archipelago.  We know that in the 5th century there were individuals who considered themselves part of the Yamato court structure from the Kantou to Kyuushuu.  In the Nihon Shoki, we also see the establishment of Miyake up and down the archipelago, from as far out as Kamitsukenu, aka Kozuke, to the western edge of Kyushu, in the early 6th century.  These were areas of rice-land which owed their output to the Yamato court or a particular endeavor.  They would have had officials there tied to the court to oversee the miyake, providing a local court presence, but how much this translated into direct Yamato control is hard to say. Then there is the Dazai , the Yamato outpost in Kyushu,  set up in the area of Tsukushi, modern Fukuoka Prefecture, largely following the Iwai Rebellion, and which we .  We talked about this some in the Gishiwajinden Tour episode about Ito and Na, extending a more directand how the Yamato government extended a more direct, and explicitly military, presence in Kyushu. Still, the individual lands of places like Hi, Toyo, Kibi, Owari, or Musashi were all governed by the Kuni no Miyatsuko, the Yamato court's term for the various chieftains or rulers of the different lands. And that gets us roughly to the situation where we are now, in 645.  Prince Naka no Oe hadand been talking with his good friend Nakatomi no Kamatari about how things should be, ever since the day that Kamatari had helped him out at a kemari game—something akin to group hackey-sack with a volleyball.  As we've discussed in past episodes, a lot of this sense of “how things should be” related to nipping the power of Soga no Iruka and Soga no Emishi in the bud, cutting off what they no doubt saw as a thread to imperial power and the ”right way of doing things”.  But Tthe two had also been taking lessons from the Priest Minabuchi, and, like students everywhere, they thought they had figured this whole government thing out as well.  They'd been reading the classics and would have had access to the reports from various envoys and ambassadors to the Tang court.  The last one had left in 630 and returned in 632.  They would no doubt have seen the workings of the Tang dynasty law code of 624 and the subsequent update in 627.  Naka no Oe and Kamatari may have even heard news of the update in 637. Thise law code, implemented by Tang Taizong, relied on Confucian and Legalist theory.  It wasn't the first law code in East Asia, or even the Yellow River basin , but it is one of the most significant and influential, and the earliest for which we have the actual code itself—though the extant version is from 653, about eight years after the events of 645., butHowever, as we'll see, all of this was well withing the timeframe which the Ritsuryo system was used and updated, itself. So, Naka no Oe and Kamatari have a shiny new document in their hands, promising an organized system of government very different from the status quo in Yamato to date.  However, the Tang law code did have a problem:  It was undeniably centered in the imperial culture of the Yellow River and Yangzi River basins.  These areas had long had the concept of empire, and even in the chaotic period of the Sixteen Kingdoms and the Northern and Southern dynasties, the concept of an empire that ruled “All Under Heaven”, or “Tianxia” was something that people generally accepted.  The Wa polities of the Japanese archipelago, even as they were now consuming media from the continent, still operated under their own cultural imaginaries of how the world was ordered and how government operated.  And so the code couldn't just be adopted wholesale:  It would have to be adapted to the needs and demands of the Wa polity. I should note that this was unlikely the reforms that took place in Yamato were sole effort of Naka no Oe and Kamatari, and much of what is written suggests that this wasn't done simply through autocratic fiat, but included some key politicking.  This started even before the Isshi Incident.  Kamatari already had close ties with Prince Karu before he met with Naka no Oe.  Kamatari and Naka no Oe had also brought Soga no Kurayamada no Ishikawa no Maro into their confidence, a member of the Soga family.  The Fujiwara family history, the Toushi Kaden, compiled by Fujiwara Nakamaro in the 8th century, describes Maro—referenced as Soga no Yamada—as a man of particular and upright character.  He also appears to have had a beef with his cousin , Soga no Iruka, and was ambitious. I'm not sure just how much Naka no Oe and Kamatari were sharing their plans about reforming the State at this point, or if they were simply concentrating efforts on bringing down—that is to say murdering—Soga no Iruka. The Toushi Kaden mentions that others were also brought around to at least the idea that something had to be done about Soga no Iruka, though nobody was quite willing to speak out for fear of Soga no Iruka and his father, Emishi, and what they could do to someone's reputation—or worse.  After all, Soga no Iruka had only   recently killed the Prince Yamashiro no Oe, reportedly as part of a plot to ensure Prince Furubito would be next elevated to the throne.  On the other hand, not much information seems to be given about the reforms until they are enacted. And so after the Isshi Incident, we see our murderous firebrands taking the reins of power.  As we noted back in episode 106, Prince Karu was encouraged to take the throne, while Prince Furubito no Ohoye retired from the world and took orders at a temple in Yoshino.  Naka no Oe had been offered the throne, we are told, but turned it down, as the optics on it would not have been great.  Not only because he was clearly responsible for the death of Soga no Iruka and his father, and thus his mother's abdication.  However, he could still be made Crown Prince, and keep right on going with his ambitions to change up the way things were done in the Yamato government. Although Naka no Oe and Kamatari get most of the credit, the work required the cooperation—or at least consent—of the newly made sovereign, Prince Karu, also known as Ame Yorozu Toyohi, later styled as Koutoku Tennou.  After all, it would be his edicts that would lay out the new system, and his name that would be attached to it.   One good example is a change that came immediately: Meanwhile, in place of Soga no Iruka as Oho-omi, Karu selected two individuals to take his place, dividing up the position of Oho-omi into ministers of the Left and Right.  The first was Abe no Omi no Uchimaro, as Minister of the Left, and then Soga no Kurayamada no Omi no Ishikawa no Maro, Naka no Oe's recently made father-in-law, was made the Minister of the Right.  These positions, later known as the Sadaijin and Udaijin, would continue to be two of the most powerful civil positions in the Ritsuryo and later Japanese governments.  The Minister of the Left, the Sadaijin, was often considered the senior of the two. By the way, “Daijin” is just a sinified reading applied to the characters used for “Oho-omi”, or great minister.  This means that the Minister of the Left, the Sadaijin, could just as easily be called the Oho-omi of the Left, or something similar.  This actually causes a bit of confusion, especially in translation, but just realize that this is effectively just a rebranding, and not entirely a new name.  What was new was this idea that they were broken into the Left and the Right a distinction that would mean a lot more once more of the bureaucratic offices and functionaries were properly defined. Who were these two new ministers? Abe no Uchimaro has popped up a few times in the narrative.  He was an experienced courtier.  The Abe family had been moving within the halls of power for some time, and had even stood up to the Soga family when Soga no Umako had tried to acquire their lands in Katsuraki, making an ancestral claim.  Uchimaro had also been involved in the discussions regarding Princes Tamura and Yamashiro no Oe after the death of Kashikya Hime, hosting one of the dinners during which the delicate issue of succession was discussed.  He was clearly a politician of the first order.  Of course, Soga no Kurayamada had clearly earned his position through his connections with the conspirators. , bBut what about Nakatomi no Kamatari?  Well, he wasn't exactly left out in the cold.  Nakatomi no Kamatari was made the Naijin, the Minister, or “Omi”, of the Middle or the Minister of the Interior, implying that he had some authority over the royal household itself.  This feels like a created position, possibly to allow him the freedom to help with the primary work of transforming the Yamato government. Although Naka no Oe and Kamatari get most of the credit, the work required the cooperation—or at least consent—of the newly made sovereign, Prince Karu, also known as Ame Yorozu Toyohi, later styled as Koutoku Tennou.  After all, it would be his edicts that would lay out the new system, and his name that would be attached to it. One of the first things that is recorded in the Nihon Shoki was the declaration of a nengo, or era name.  Up to this point, years in Yamato were remembered by the reign of the sovereign—typically based on their palace.  So you would see things like the second year of the reign of the sovereign of Shiki palace, or something like that.  In addition, at least since about the 6th century, if not earlier, years would eventually be given the appropriate sexagesimal year name, combing one of the ten stems and twelve branches.  For example, 2024, when this episode is coming out, is the year of the Wood Dragon, or Kinoe-tatsu.  This is still used for various Japanese traditionspractice still continues today in Japan for various reasons. The Nengo was something newly introduced to Japan, however: .  Aan era name would be chosen by the sovereign, often based on important changes that either had occurred or even as a wish for something new.  So you would we see a new nengo with the ascension of a new sovereign, but it couldan also come because of an auspicious omen or because of a terrible disaster and hope for something new.  The current nengo, which started with the reign of Emperor Naruhito a few years back, is “Reiwa”. This very first nengo, we are told, was “Taika”, meaning, as I said up front, “Great Change”.  It certainly was apropos to the work at hand.  So let's go through the Chronicles and see some of the “great changes” occurring at the Yamato court now that the intention had been made clear.  We already talked about the change from an single Oho-omi to ministers of the Left and Right, but there were many other Some of the first things were to set up various newly created officials and positions.  An example is , such as two doctors, or Hakase – doctors in the sense of learned experts, not medical doctors, although medicine was certainly revered.  One of these new Hakase was the Priest Min, presumably the same one who had brought back astronomical knowledge from the Sui dynasty, possibly the same as the one known as Sho'an.  The other was Takamuko no Fubito no Kuromaro, who had gone to the Sui Dynasty with Min and others and come back with knowledge of how things worked on the continent.  The Takamuko family had immigrant roots as descendants of the Ayabito, and Kuromaro was well traveled, returning from the Sui court by way of Silla.  These two were well positioned to help with the work at hand. Now that the rudiments of a cabinet were in place, Oone of the first problems set before things after setting up their cabinet, as it were, was to askthe their new Ministers of the Right and Left, as well as the various officials, the Daibu and the Tomo no Miyatsuko, was how tohey should  get people to acquiesce to forced, or corvee labor—the idea that for certain government projects villages could be called upon to provide manual labor in the form of a healthy adult—typically male—to help as needed.  This was a thorny problem, and evidently it was thought best to get expertise beyond the purely human.  The following day, tThe Udaijin, Soga no Ishikawa no Maro, suggested that the kami of Heaven and Earth should be worshipped and then affairs of government should be considered.  And so Yamato no Aya no Hirafu was sent to Wohari and Imbe no Obito no Komaro was sent to Mino, both to make offerings to the kami there for their assistance, it would seem, in setting up a good government. This is significant, in part, as it shows the continued importance of local traditions focused on appeasing the kami, rather than the Buddhist rituals that they could have likely turned to, instead. FinallyThree weeks later, on the 5th day of the 8th month—about three weeks later— camecomes the first truly major edict of the Taika era, which and it wasis to appoint new governors, or kokushi, of the eastern provinces.  Note that they specifically mention the Eastern Provinces, presumably meaning those east of Yamato, since they only sent out eight of them.  They also did not send them to usurp control, necessarily, from the Kuni no Miyatsuko of those areas.  The Kuni no Miyatsuko were still nominally in charge, it would seem, but the court was getting ready to make some major changes to the relationship. These governors were expected to go out and take a census of the people—both those free and those in bondage to others.  They were also to take account of all of the land currently under cultivation, likely to figure out how to tax it appropriately.  As for things other than arable land, such as gardens, ponds, rivers, oceans, lakes, mountains, etc., the edict commands the governors to consult with the people—presumably the people of the province—to get a better idea of what should be done. And this doesn't sound so bad.  It is basically just a tally of what is already there.  That said, anyone who has worked in a modern office probably knows about the dread that comes over a workplace when people show up from the Head Office with clipboards in hand.  However, apparently many of the people had not yet heard of a “clipboard” and likely didn't realize that this was only a precursor to greater and more centralized bureaucratic control. Now in addition to taking a zero-baseline review of provincial resources, there was also a list of what these new governors y were to avoid – clear boundaries around the power they were to wield.  For one thing, they were not to hear criminal cases.  They weren't there to be an extension of the Yamato court in such matters or to usurp the duties of the Kuni no Miyatsuko, one supposes.  Furthermore, when they were traveling to the capital, they were only to bring themselves and district officials, but not a huge retinue.  Whether they realized it or not, these kokushi were early bureaucrats in a burgeoning bureaucratic state, and they weren't supposed to be going out there to become minor kings in their own right; their power came from and was limited by the royal edict.  They also did not send them to usurp control, necessarily, from the Kuni no Miyatsuko of those areas.  The Kuni no Miyatsuko were still nominally in charge, it would seem, but the court was getting ready to make some major changes to the relationship. When traveling on official business, the governors could use appropriate government resources, such as the horses and food that they were entitled to.  Remember that post stations were set up, previously, to help better facilitate official travel and communication.  In a later edict it would be clarified that officials would be given a bronze token with bell-like figures on it.  The shape of the token would indicate what kinds of resources the individual was entitled to.  This applied to governors and their assistants.  Those who follow the rules could be rewarded with rank and more, while those who disobeyed would be reduced in rank, and any stipend that came with it.  Furthermore, any government official who was found taking a bribe would be liable to pay twice the amount, as well as being open to criminal punishment. The Chief Governor was allowed nine attendants, while the assistant was allowed seven, and a secretary—for which think more of the head of a branch office or department under the governor—could have five.  Any more, and the governor and followers could be punished for it. While in the provinces, the governors were expected to look into any claims of potentially false inheritance.  This included anyone using a false name or title to claim rights that were not theirs.  Governors were to first investigate what was going on before submitting their findings up to the court. Governors were also to erect arsenals on waste pieces of ground—ground that could not be cultivated for some reason.  In those arsenals they were to gather the various weapons and armor of the provinces and districts, presumably so that soldiers could be called up quickly and everyone could just get their equipment from one place, but it also looks like an attempt to take control of the means of violence.  Whether or not that was their direct intention I cannot say.  There was a provision for those on the frontier, with the Emishi, to allow the owners to keep their weapons, probably because the situation was potentially volatile, and it could turn at any moment. And so that was the first major piece of legislation:  Sending out governors to what are translated as “provinces”—though we are still using the term “kuni”, which equally refers to a state or country—ostensibly for the purposes of assessing the land, its value, the number of people, etc, but also to .  They are centralizeing military assets.   and they are given status as true court representatives.  I do notice that it was explicitly stated that these governors were for the eastern lands, .  presumably meaning those east of Yamato, since they only sent out eight of them These are areas that historically appear to have relied more on Yamato or else been something of a frontier area for the ethnic Wa people.  They may have been more open to Yamato's demands on their sovereignty. There were two more pieces to thise edict that didon't directly apply to the governors.  First off was the institution of a bell and a box to be set up at the court.  The box was basically a place to receive complaints about how things were going in the realm.  They are careful to note that complaints should be vetted by the Tomo no Miyatsuko, one of the hereditary government officials, or at least to the head of one's uji, if possible.  If they couldn't come to a decision, though, the complaints would be collected at dawn and then the government would look into them.  If anyone thought that there was a problem with how a complaint was being handled—for example, if they thought there was malfeasance involved or even just neglect, with officials not addressing it in a timely fashion, then the plaintiffs could go to the court and ring the bell, officially noting their dissatisfaction with the process. This idea of a bell and complaints seems to be a wide-ranging practice throughout Asia.  During the reign of the Legendary Yao, people were encouraged to nail their complaints to a tree.  Other edicts suggest that bells and drums were hung in royal palaces to allow common people to voice their grievances.  We have examples of the practice showing up in the Sukhothai kingdom of Thailand, during the 13th century reign of King Ramkhamhaeng, and then a 16th century example in what is now Myanmar, aka Burma.  While they differ in specifics, they are all related to the concept of royal justice even for the lowest of the people.  Granted, if you are a farmer in Owari province, I don't know how easy it was going to be to make your way over to the royal palace and ring that bell, but at least there was the idea that people could submit complaints. This was apparently used relatively soon after, as recounted in the second month of the following year, about six months later.  Apparently some person had placed a complaint in the box stating that people who had come to the capital on government business were being put to work and ill-used.  Basically it sounds like they were being rounded up for corvee labor even though they weren't local residents, they were just passing through.  In response, the sovereign, Karu, put a stop to forced labor at various places—presumably where the offending action was taking place, so I guess the complaint system it was working. The last part of this first set of edicts, kicking off the change was about inheritance.  Not all people in Yamato were free, and the law saw a difference between the status of free and unfree persons—that is to say enslaved persons.  And so they made laws that only the child of two free persons would be considered free.  If either parent was in bondage, then the child was also considered in bondage to their parent's house.  If two enslaved persons of different houses had a child, then they would stay with the mother.  Temple serfs, though technically bound to service of the temple, were made a special case, and their children were to be treated as if the temple serf was a free person. Slavery is something that doesn't always get talked about regarding ancient Yamato, and the Chronicles themselves don't tend to mention enslaved peoplethem often, but more because they belonged to a class of society that was largely outside of the scope of the narrative.  In cases where they are discussed, such as in these edicts, the Chronicles are unapologetic of the practice.  These may have been people who were captured in raids, or their descendants, or people who had been enslaved as punishment for some offence, although it isn't quite clear just what would count.  We know that Himiko sent enslaved persons as part of the tribute to the Wei Court, as she was trying to curry favor, and mention of them certainly shows up now and again. It is unclear how many people were enslaved up to this point, but some estimates suggest that it may have been five to ten percent of the population.  As I've mentioned before, this practice continued up until the Sengoku Period, and was only abolished by Toyotomi Hideyoshi in an attempt to stop the Portuguese from buying enslaved Japanese people and transporting them away from Japan.  That didn't meant that other forms of bondage, often economic in nature, didn't happen, however. So that was the content of the first edict—one of many.  The court sent out newly appointed “governors” to the provinces, but these governors were, so far, limited in their scope.  There is even some evidence that these may have been initially seen as temporary positions, and there was mention of “kokushi” in the previous reign.  Still, this was part of a clearly concentrated effort to assume central authority over the archipelago.  There were even officials appointed over the six districts of Yamato province, the core of the Yamato state, who were likewise expected to prepare registers of the population and the cultivated land. Even the idea that the sovereign had the right to make these appointments was something a bit radical, and indicated a change in way that the court, at least, would view the sovereign.  It likewise placed the sovereign in a position to dispense justice, through the vehicle of the court, and it began to define the citizens of the realm as well. That said, this all could have been argued for by using the Sui and Tang as examples of what government should look like and what a true nation should look like. It is also possible that this didn't all happen of a sudden in the 8th month, as the Chronicles describe it.  This is suggested at based on a separate account, mentioned in the Nihon Shoki, that the gathering of weapons, for instance—one of the things that the governors were charged with—actually took place between the 6th and 9th month, so some of this likely started before the date listed for the edict, and that may just have been one part of the whole.  The Chroniclers often do this, finding one particular date and throwing in everything rather than giving things piecemeal—depending on the event.  In addition, on the 19th day of the 9th month, officials were sent out to all of the provinces—not just the eastern provinces—to take a proper census.  At this same time, the sovereign, Karu, issued another edict, which seems related to their work as well as that of the governors, or kokushi, sent to the east.  In it he noted that the powerful families—the Omi, the Muraji, the Tomo no Miyatsuko, and the Kuni no Miyatsuko—would compel their own vassals to work at their pleasure.  They would also appropriate for themselves various pieces of land, so that people could only work it for them.  Not everyone was doing this, though.  Some unnamed persons were accused of hording thousands of acres of rice-land, while others had no more land than you could stick a needle into.  Furthermore, these powerful families were collecting taxes for themselves, first, and then handing a portion over to the government.  They likely compelled their vassals to work on their own tombs, and such.  And so, the sovereign, Karu, forbade anyone from becoming a landlord and forcing people to pay rent.  Presumably he was also dealing with some of the other aspects, though that may have proved more difficult.  After all, from what we've seen, everything that Karu is complaining about—things that no doubt were considered antithetical to good government based on pure Confucian values—were the norm for the elite at the time.  Heck, the Kuni no Miyatsuko had no doubt thought of the land and the people on it as their own, not Yamato's.  However, things were shifting, and once again we see Yamato exerting royal prerogative over the land and people, something that they would do more and more as the system of laws and punishments eventually came together. Now the big question is how did this all pan out?  Well, it took some time, but we get a report on the second day of the third month of the following year, 646, and to be honest, it doesn't sound like things were going too well.  Of the high officials sent out as kokushi to govern the eastern provinces, six listened and did what they were told, but two did not, and then there were numerous other issues.  A more detailed list was given on the 19th of the month, including a clearer idea of punishments. The decree was given to the “Choushuushi”, apparently other government officials sent to check on how things were going, though it was clearly about various officials. The decree starts by reminding officials that they were not to use their position to appropriate public or private property.  Anyone of Assistant governor rank or higher would be punished by being degraded in rank, and presumably their stipend.  Those officials of clerk, or secretary, on down would face flogging.  If anyone was found converting public property (or someone else's) to their own use, they would be fined double the value of the property, just as with bribes.  So the Yamato government was They were really trying to tamp down on people trying to make a profit from their position. Here are a few of the specific things that the Choushuushi reported back: -             Hozumi no Omi no Kuhi taxed individual families for his own use and though he gave some of it back make, it wasn't all.  His two assistants were at fault for not correcting him. -             Kose no Tokune no Omi did something similar, taking away horses from the farmers for his own use.  His assistants not only did not correct him, but actually helped him.  They also took horses from the Kuni no Miyatsuko of the province.  One of the officials tried to remonstrate with him, but he finally gave in to the corruption. -             Ki no Marikida no Omi sent men to Asakura no Kimi and Inoue no Kimi to look at their horses for his own use.  He also had Asakura no Kimi make him swords and provide bow-cloth.  He also took the payments in lieu of weapons offered by the Kuni no Miyatsuko but didn't properly report it.  As a somewhat strange addition to these charges, he apparently was guilty of allowing himself to be robbed of a sword in his own province as well as in Yamato, presumably one that was actually government property.  Apparently being held up at sword point wasn't considered sufficient justification for letting it go.  This was facilitated by his assistants and their subordinates. -             Adzumi no Muraji apparently made the Kuni no Miyatsuko send government property to someone when they were ill, and he took horses belonging to the Yube clan.  His assistant gathered items at his house that were paid in lieu of hay, and he took the horses of the Kuni no Miyatsuko and exchanged them for others.  At least two other brothers were found guilty as well. -             Ohochi no Muraji broke the decree of not personally judging the complaints of the people in the districts under his charge.  He took it on himself to judge the case of the men of Udo and the matter of the enslaved persons of Nakatomi no Toko, who was also considered guilty. -             Kishida no Omi, as with Ki no Marikida, also allowed his sword to be stolen, showing a want of circumspection. -             In one of the strangest put-downs in this list, Womidori no Omi and Tanba no Omi weren't guilty of anything, but were just considered incompetent.  So make of that what you will. -             Imbe no Konomi and Nakatomi no Muraji no Mutsuki also committed offenses, we are told, but the nature is unclear. -             Hada no Omi and Taguchi no Omi, on the other hand, were free and clear.  Apparently they hadn't committed any offenses. -             Finally, Heguri no Omi was guilty of neglecting to investigate the complaints of the men of Mikuni. A big to-do was made about the punishments to be meted out to all of these individuals, as well as to the Kuni no Miyatsuko who may have enabled them.  However, instead of prosecuting them, Karu declared a general amnesty.  This was like a mass pardon of offenses—a do-over if you would.  Not that anything would be forgotten.  On the other hand, six individuals who did as they were told were all commended for their service.  He also took the lent-rice for the maintenance of the late Kibishima, the dowager queen who had passed away in 643, and distributed her official-rice lands amongst the ministers down to the Tomo no Miyatsuko.  He also gave rice-land and hill tracts, which weren't suitable for farming, over to various temples which had previously been omitted from the official registers for some reason. Over all, this seems to be a rather powerful message:  We're not They weren't fooling around with these changes, and people better get on board or get out of the way.  Whereas previously things in the provinces may have operated under a sort of Vegas Rules, that was no longer going to be tolerated.  On the other hand, Karuhe demonstrated mercy, likely realizing that too harsh an approach would bring the wrath of the other powerful nobles.  Nonetheless, he elaborated what each person had done and effectively put them and anyone else harboring thoughts that they could just ignore these edicts on notice.  These reforms weren't going away. So we've talked about where we were and we can see the powers at the Yamato court starting to make changes.  For now, this is probably going to be a good place to take a break for this episode, but there are a lot more of these reforms to get to, not to mention the rest of the intra-palace politicking at the court, as well as the changing situation on the continent and in diplomatic channels.  We are going to keep looking at these changes as we move forward through the period of Great Change, known as the Taika era. Until then, thank you 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.

TRIGGER WARNING: this episode discusses suicide, suicidal thoughts, and self-harm and may trigger listeners. André, The Impulsive Thinker, continues the conversation with Mark Fujiwara in Part 2 of their deep dive into trauma, mental health, and personal growth for ADHD Entrepreneurs. They explore the journey from self-protection to self-acceptance, the importance of surrounding yourself with positive energy, and finding strength in vulnerability. Mark shares his recent experiences with panic attacks, suicidal thoughts, and the transformative power of intentional mental health breaks.   Check out the ADHD Transform Journey™ that is now available. Download The Sh!t List™, my weekly planning tool. We want to hear from you! Please send show ideas, questions, or feedback to podcast@theimpulsivethinker.com and join our mailing list! Watch the podcasts on YouTube and connect with me on LinkedIn. Check out our website.   Guest: Mark Fujiwara is the co-Founder of The Epic F.I.T. Network and founder of Ikigai Court, a charitable organization supporting the mental well-being of entrepreneurs from startup to exit. He is also an investor in Pick My Brain. Mark has been a pivotal voice in mental health discussions on the podcast since the first season. His work focuses on the often misunderstood and lonely journey of ADHD Entrepreneurs, making a significant impact on enhancing mental health awareness within this community. Mark's contributions continue to help entrepreneurs maintain their mental well-being while navigating the complexities of their professional lives.

Ito-koku and Na-koku were the next two countries on the path of the Wei envoys noted in the Gishiwajinden.  They likely refer to the areas known today as Itoshima and Fukuoka, so what do we know about these places in the Yayoi period, and how is it that by the 3rd century Yamato seemed to have taken the foremost position on the archipelago and not one of these other countries, where wet paddy rice agriculture and other continental technologies first arrived in the archipelago. For more see our podcast blog post at: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/itoandna Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is Gishiwajinden Part Five: Ito-koku and Na-koku This episode we are finishing up our Gishiwajinden Tour, focusing on our journey to Ito-koku and Na-koku, or modern day Itoshima and Fukuoka. We'll talk about what we know from the records of these two areas in the Yayoi and early Kofun periods, and then look at some of the later history, with the development of the Dazaifu, the build up of Hakata and Fukuoka, and more.  A key thread through all of this will be our discussion about why it was Yamato, and not these early states, who eventually became paramount.  If this is where things like wet paddy rice agriculture started, and they had such close ties to the continent, including sending a mission to the Han dynasty, why did the political center shift over to Yamato, instead?  It is certainly something to wonder about, and without anything written down by the elites of Na and Ito we can only really guess based on what we see in the histories and the archaeological record. We ended our tour in Na for a reason: while the Gishiwajinden—the Japanese section of the Wei Chronicles—describes the trip from the continent all the way to Yamatai, the locations beyond Na are largely conjecture.  Did ancient travelers continue from Na along the Japan Sea coast up to Izumo and then travel down somewhere between Izumo and Tsuruga to the Nara Basin?  Or did they travel the Inland Sea Route, with its calmer waters but greater susceptibility to pirates that could hide amongst the various islands and coves?  Or was Yamatai on the island of Kyushu, and perhaps the name just happens to sound similar to the Yamato of Nara?  Unfortunately, the Wei Chronicles have more than a few problems with accuracy, including problems with directions, meaning that at most we have some confidence in the locations out to “Na”, but beyond that it gets more complicated.  And even “Na” has some questions, but we'll get to that later. Unlike the other points on our journey, we didn't stay overnight at “Ito-koku”, , and we only briefly stayed at Na—modern Fukuoka, but I'll still try to give an account of what was going on in both places, and drawing on some past visits to the area to fill in the gaps for you.   Both the Na and Ito sites are believed to be in the modern Fukuoka prefecture, in Itoshima and Fukuoka cities.  Fukuoka prefecture itself actually spans all the way up to the Shimonoseki straits and includes the old territory of Tsukushi—Chikuzen and Chikugo—as well as the westernmost part of Buzen, the “closer” part of the old land of “Toyo” on the Seto Inland Sea side of Kyushu.  When it comes to locating the country of Ito-koku, we have lots of clues from current place names.  The modern Itoshima peninsula, which, in old records, was known as the country of Ito, and was later divided into the districts of Ito and Shima.  Shima district, at the end of the peninsula, may have once been an island—or nearly so.  It is thought that there was a waterway between the two areas, stretching from Funakoshi bay in the south to Imazu Bay, in the north, in Fukuoka proper.  Over time this area was filled in with deposits from the local rivers, making it perfect for the Yayoi style wet rice paddy agriculture that was the hallmark of the growth in that period.  And indeed there are certainly plenty of Yayoi and Kofun era ruins in the area, especially in eastern reaches of the modern city of Itoshima, which reside in the valley that backs up to Mt. Raizan.  There you can find the Ito-koku History Museum, which tells much of the story of Ito. The Weizhi, or the Wei Chronicles, note that Ito-koku had roughly a thousand households, with various officials under their own Queen, making it one of the few Wa countries that the Chroniclers specifically noted as being a “kingdom”, though still under the nominal hegemony of the queen of Yamatai or Yamateg.  If you continue eastward along the coast from Itoshima, you next hit Nishi-ku, the Western Ward, of modern Fukuoka city, which now continues to sprawl around Hakata Bay.  Nishi-ku itself used to also be known as “Ito”, though spelled slightly differently, and you can still find Ito Shrine in the area. So was this part of Ito-koku also? It's very possible.   Na-koku, or the country of Na, was probably on the eastern edge of modern Fukuoka, perhaps around the area known as Hakata down to modern Kasuga.  Much like in Karatsu, this area features some of the earliest rice fields ever found in Japan – in this case, in the Itazuke neighborhood, just south of Fukuoka airport.  The land here is mostly flat, alluvial plains, formed by the rivers that empty out into Hakata Bay, another great area for early rice agriculture. Locating the country of Na is interesting for several reasons.  For one, unlike all of the other Wei Chronicles sites we've mentioned, there is no clear surviving placename that obviously matches up between “Na” and the local area.  It is a short enough name that it may simply be difficult to distinguish which “Na” is meant, though there is a “Naka” district in Kasuga that may show some promise.  There certainly is evidence for a sizeable settlement, but that's much more tenuous than the placenames for other areas, which remained largely in use in some form up to the modern day, it would seem. The name “Na” shows up in more than just the Weizhi, and it is also mentiond in the Houhan-shu, or the Record of the Later Han, a work compiled later than the Weizhi, but using older records from the Late Han dynasty period.  There it is asserted that the country of Na was one of the 99 some-odd countries of Wa, and they sent an embassy to the Later Han court, where they received a gold seal made out to the “King of Na of Wa”.  We talked about this in Episode 10: The Islands of the Immortals: That seal, made of gold, was seemingly found in the Edo period—1784, to be precise.  A farmer claimed to have found it on Shika island, in Hakata Bay, which is quite prominent, and connected to the mainland with a periodically-submerged causeway.  The description of the find—in a box made up of stones, with a large stone on top that required at least two men to move it—seems like it could have been an old burial of some kind.  The island certainly makes sense as an elite burial site, overlooking Hakata Bay, which was likely an important feature of the lifeways of the community.  While there have been questions about the authenticity of the seal, if it is a forgery, it is quite well done.  It looks similar to other Han era seals, and we don't really have a way to date the gold it is made of.  Without the actual context we can't be quite sure. This certainly seems like pretty strong evidence of the country of Na in this area, somewhere – probably not on the island itself, then close by.So unless something else comes along, I think we can say that this is at least the vicinity of the old country of Na.  Okay, so now that we've talked in general about where these two places were, let's go back and look at them in more detail. The Ito-koku site is just up the coast from where we stayed for Matsuro-koku, in Karatsu, which all makes sense from the position of the Chronicles in that it says the early envoys traveled overland from one place to the other.  Of course it also says they traveled southeast, which is not correct as the route is actually northeast.  However, they had traveled southeast from the Korean peninsula to Tsushima and then Iki and Matsuro, so that direction was well established, and this is an easy enough error that could have been made by the actual envoys or by later scribes, as it would be a one character difference. For Ito-koku, as with Matsuro-koku, we have no large, reconstructed sites similar to Harunotsuji on Iki or Yoshinogari, further inland in Saga prefecture, where we have an entire, large, so-called “kingly” settlement.  There is evidence of settlements, though, both near the major burial sites as well as around the peninsula.  And as for those burial sites, well, Ito has a few, and they aren't merely important because of their size.  Size is often an indication of the amount of labor that a leader must have been able to mobilize, and so it can be used to get a general sense of the power that a given leader or system was able to wield, as they could presumably turn that labor to other users as well. However, it is also important to look at other factors, like burial goods. What kind of elite material was the community giving up and placing with the deceased? That is the case with the first site we'll discuss, the Hirabaru burial mound.  At first glance it isn't much—a relatively unassuming square mound, about 12 by 14 meters, and less than 2 meters in height.  It was discovered in 1965 by a farmer who started digging a trench to plant an orchard and started pulling up broken pieces of a bronze mirror, one of the first clues that this was someone important.  They later found various post holes around the site, suggesting that it was more than just an earthen mound, and as they excavated the site they found pottery, beads, mirrors, and more. Let's start with those post-holes.  It looks like there was at least one large pillar set up due east of the burial.  We don't know how tall it was, but it was likely of some height given the size of the pillar hole—I've seen some estimates that it could have been up to 70 meters tall.  A tall pole would have provided visibility, and it may also be significant that it was east, in the direction of the rising sun.  We know that the ancient Wa had a particular connection with the sun, and this may be further evidence of that.  There are other holes that may be a gate, and possible a storehouse nearby, presumably for various ritual items, etc.  Suddenly, even without knowing exactly what was there, we start to see a picture of a large, manmade complex that seems to be centered on this burial and whomever is there. On top of that, there was a mirror in the tomb that was larger than any other ever found in Japan at that time—certainly the largest round mirror of that period.  It is not one of the triangular rimmed mirrors that Yamato is known for, but may have been part of another large cache brought over from the mainland.  About 40 mirrors in total, many of them very large, were found buried in the tomb, some of which appear to have been broken for some reason.  Furthermore, the large mirrors appear to fit within the dimensions given the Great Mirror—the Yata no kagami—housed at the sacred Ise Shrine.  There is a document in 804, the “Koutai Jingu Gishiki Chou”, detailing the rituals of Ise shrine, which describes the sacred mirror sitting in a box with an inner diameter of 1 shaku, 6 sun, and 3 bu, or approximately 49.4 centimeters, at least using modern conversions.  The same measurements are given in the 10th century Engi Shiki.  So we can assume that the mirror in Ise, which nobody is allowed to actually see, let alone measure, is smaller than that, but not by much, as the box would have been made to fit the mirror, specifically.  It isn't like you can just grab a box from Mirror Depot.  The mirrors found at Hirabaru Mound measure 46.5 centimeters, and have a floral pattern with an eight petaled flower on the back.  Could this mirror be from the same mold or the same cache, at least, as the sacred mirror at Ise?  At the very least, they would seem to be of comparable value.   In addition, there were many beads, jars, etc.  Noticeably absent from the burial were swords and weapons.  Based on this, some have argued that this was the burial of a queen of Ito-koku.  There is evidence that this may be the case, but I don't think the presence of weapons, or the lack thereof, is necessarily a good indicator. After all, we see in the old stories that women were also found wielding swords and leading troops into battle. So it's dangerous to make assumptions about gender based on this aspect alone. I wonder if the Hirabaru tomb assemblage might have more to do with something else we see in Yamato and which was likely applicable elsewhere in the archipelago: a system of co-rulership, where one role might have to do more with administrative and/or ritual practice, regardless of gender. This burial assemblage or mirrors and other non-weapons might reflect this kind of position. The Weizhi often mentions “secondary” or “assistant” positions, which may have truly been subordinate to a primary ruler, or could have just been misunderstood by the Wei envoys, who saw everything through their particular cultural stratification.  In a similar fashion, early European explorers would often name people “king”—from the daimyo of Sengoku era Japan to Wahunsenacawh, known popularly as “Powhatan” for the name of his people, on what would become known as North America.  That isn't to say that these weren't powerful individuals, but the term “king” comes with a lot of Eurocentric assumptions and ideas about power, stratification, etc.  Is there any reason to believe that the Wei envoys and later chroniclers were necessarily better at describing other cultures? And of course we don't have any physical remains of the actual individual buried there, either. However, there is a good reason to suggest that this may have been a female ruler, and that *is* because of something in the Weizhi, which specifically says that the people of Ito lived under the rule of a female king, aka a queen, using a description not unlike what is used for Queen Himiko.  In fact, Ito gets some special treatment in the record, even though it isn't the largest of the countries.  Let's look at those numbers first: Tsushima is said to have 1,000 households, while Iki is more like 3,000.  Matsuro is then counted at 4,000 families, but Ito is only said to have 1,000, similar to Tsushima.  Just over the mountains and along the Bay, the country of Na is then counted at a whopping 20,000 households, so 20 times as many.  These numbers are probably not entirely accurate, but do give an impression of scale, at least. But what distinguishes Ito-koku in this is that we are told that it had a special place for envoys from the Korean peninsula to rest when they came.  It makes you wonder about this little place called Ito. Hirabaru is not the only kingly tomb in the area.  Walk about 20 to 30 minutes further into the valley, and you might just find a couple of other burials—in particular Mikumo-Minami Shouji, discovered in 1822, and Iwara-Yarimizo, which includes artifacts discovered in the 1780s in the area between Mikumo and Iwara as they were digging a trench.  Based on evidence and descriptions, we know that they pulled out more bronze mirrors and other elite goods indicative of the late Yayoi paramounts. In these areas they have also found a number of post holes suggesting other buildings—enough to perhaps have a relatively large settlement. As noted earlier, we do not have a reconstructed village like in Harunotsuji or Yoshinogari, given that these are private fields, so the shape of the ancient landscape isn't as immediately impressive to people looking at the area, today.  The apparent dwellings are largely found in the triangle created between two rivers, which would have been the water source for local rice paddies.  The tombs and burials are found mostly on the outskirts, with the exception of the kingly burial of Mikumo-Minami Shouji.  This is also interesting when you consider that the later Hirabaru mound was situated some distance away, raising a bunch of questions that we frankly do not have answers for. The area of these ruins is not small.  It covers roughly 40.5 hectares, one of the largest Yayoi settlements so far discovered.  Of course, traces of other large settlements—like something in the Fukuoka area or back in Yamato—may have been destroyed by later construction, particularly in heavily developed areas.  This is interesting, though, when you consider that the Weizhi only claimed some 1,000 households. There are also other graves, such as various dolmens, across Ito and Shima, similar to those found on the peninsula, and plenty of other burials across both ancient districts.  And as the Yayoi culture shifted, influence of Yamato can be seen.  While Ito-koku clearly had their own burial practices, which were similar to, but not exactly like, those in the rest of the archipelago, we can see them start to adopt the keyhole style tomb mounds popular in Yamato. During the kofun period, the area of Itoshima built at least 60 identified keyhole shaped tombs, with a remarkable number of them from the early kofun period.  Among these is Ikisan-Choushizuka Kofun, a large, round keyhole tomb mound with a vertical stone pit burial, estimated to have been built in the latter half of the 4th century.  At 103 meters in length, it is the largest round keyhole tomb on the Genkai coast—that is to say the northwest coast of Kyushu. All of these very Yamato-style tombs would appear to indicate a particular connection between Ito and  Yamato—though what, exactly, that looked like is still up for debate.  According to the various early Chronicles, of course, this would be explained because, from an early period, Yamato is said to have expanded their state to Kyushu and then even on to the Korean peninsula.  In particular, the Chronicles talk about “Tsukushi”, which is both used as shorthand for the entirety of Kyushu, while also indicating the area largely encompassing modern Fukuoka prefecture.  On the other hand, this may have been a sign of Ito demonstrating its own independence and its own prestige by emulating Yamato and showing that they, too, could build these large keyhole tombs.  After all, the round keyhole shape is generally thought to have been reserved, in Yamato, for members of the royal family, and Ito-koku may have been using it similarly for their own royal leaders.  It may even be something in between—Ito-koku may have recognized Yamato's influence and leadership, but more in the breach than in actuality.  Afterall, until the standup of things like the various Miyake and the Dazai, we aren't aware of a direct outpost of the Yamato government on Kyushu.  The Miyake, you may recall, were the ”royal granaries”, which were basically administrative regions overseeing rice land that was directly controlled by Yamato, while the Dazai was the Yamato government outpost in Kyushu for handling continental affairs.  On top of a lack of local control in the early Kofun, the Weizhi appears to suggest that the Yamato paramount, Himiko, was the “Queen of the Wa” only through the consensus of other polities, but clearly there were other countries in the archipelago that did not subscribe to her blog, as it were, as they were in open conflict with Yamato.  This all leads into something we've talked about in the main podcast at various times, but it still bears discussing:  How did Yamato, over in the Nara Basin, become the center of political life in the Japanese archipelago, and why not somewhere in Kyushu, like ancient Na or Ito?  While we don't entirely know, it is worth examining what we do and some of the factors that may have been in play.  After all, Kyushu was the closest point of the main Japanese islands to the mainland, and we see that the Yayoi culture gets its start there.  From there, Yayoi culture spread to the east, and if we were to apply similar assumptions as we do on the spread of the keyhole shaped kofun, we would assume that the culture-givers in the west would have held some level of prestige as groups came to them to learn about this new technology, so why wasn't the capital somewhere in Kyushu?  We likewise see other such things—Yayoi pottery styles, fired in kilns, rather than open fired pottery; or even bronze items brought over from the continent.  In almost every instance, we see it first in Kyushu, and then it diffuses eastward up to the edge of Tohoku.  This pattern seems to hold early on, and it makes sense, as most of this was coming over from the continent. Let's not forget, though, that the Yayoi period wasn't simply a century: by our most conservative estimates it was approximately 600 years—for reference, that would be roughly equivalent to the period from the Mongol invasions up to the end of the Edo period, and twice as long as the period from Mimaki Iribiko to the Naka-no-Oe in 645, assuming that Mimaki Iribiko was ruling in the 3rd century.  So think about all that has happened in that time period, mostly focused on a single polity, and then double it.  More recent data suggests that the Yayoi period may have been more like an 1100 to 1300 year range, from the earliest start of rice cultivation.  That's a long time, and enough time for things in the archipelago to settle and for new patterns of influence to form.  And while Kyushu may have been the first region to acquire the new rice growing technology, it was other areas around the archipelago that would begin to truly capitalize on it. We are told that by the time the Wei envoys arrived that the state of Yamato, which we have no reason not to believe was in the Nara Basin, with a focus on the area of modern Sakurai, had approximately 70,000 households.  That is huge.  It was larger than Na, Ito, and Matsuro, combined, and only rivaled in the Weizhi by Touma-koku, which likely referred to either the area of Izumo, on the Japan Sea coast, or to the area of Kibi, along the Seto Inland Sea, both of which we know were also large polities with significant impact in the chronicles.  And here there is something to consider about the Yayoi style agriculture—the land determined the ultimate yield.  Areas with more hills and mountains are not as suited to wet rice paddy agriculture.  Meanwhile, a flat basin, like that in Yamato, which also has numerous rivers and streams draining from the surrounding mountains into the basin and then out again, provided the possibility for a tremendous population, though no doubt it took time to build. During that time, we definitely see evidence of the power and influence of places like Na and Ito.  Na sent an embassy to the Han court—an incredible journey, and an indication of not only their interest in the Han court and continental trade, but also their ability to gather the resources necessary for such a journey, which likely required some amount of assistance from other, nearby polities.  Na must have had some sway back then, we would assume. Meanwhile, the burial at Ito shows that they were also quite wealthy, with clear ties to the continent given their access to large bronze mirrors.  In the absence of other data, the number and size of bronze mirrors, or similar bronze items, likely only useful for ritual purposes, indicates wealth and status, and they had some of the largest mirrors as well as the largest collection found for that period.  Even into the stories in the Nihon Shoki and the Kojiki we see how mirrors, swords, and jewels all are used a symbols of kingship.  Elite status was apparently tied to material items, specifically to elite trade goods.  Assuming Yamato was able to grow its population as much as is indicated in the Weizhi, then by the 3rd century, they likely had the resources to really impress other groups.  Besides things like mirrors, we can probably assume that acquisition of other goods was likewise important.  Both Ito and Yamato show evidence of pottery shards from across the archipelago, indicating extensive trade networks.  But without any other differentiating factors, it is likely that Yamato, by the 3rd century, at least, was a real powerhouse.  They had a greater production capacity than the other states listed in the Weizhi, going just off of the recorded human capital. And this may answer a question that has been nagging me for some time, and perhaps others:  Why did other states acquiesce to Yamato rule?  And the answer I keep coming back to is that it was probably a combination of wealth, power, prestige, ritual, and time. For one thing, wealth: Yamato had it.  That meant they could also give it.  So, if Yamato was your friend, you got the goods, and you had access to what you need.  You supported them, they could help you with what you needed.  These transactional alliances are not at all uncommon, and something I think most of us can understand. There is also power—specifically military power.  With so many people, Yamato would likely have been a formidable threat should they decide that violence was the answer.  That said, while we read of military campaigns, and no doubt they did go out and fight and raid with the best of them, it's expensive to do so.  Especially exerting control over areas too far out would have been problematic, especially before writing AND horses.  That would be costly, and a drain on Yamato's coffers.  So while I do suspect that various military expeditions took place, it seems unlikely that Yamato merely bested everyone in combat.  Military success only takes you so far without constant maintenance. And so here is where I think prestige and ritual come into play.  We've talked about how Yamato did not exactly “rule” the archipelago—their direct influence was likely confined to the Kinki region for the longest period of time.  And yet we see that they influenced people out on the fringes of the Wa cultural sphere: when they started building large, keyhole shaped kofun for their leaders, and burying elites only one to a giant mound, the other areas of Japan appear to have joined in.  Perhaps Yamato was not the first to build a kofun for a single person, but they certainly were known for the particular shape that was then copied by so many others.  But why? We don't know for certain, but remember that in Yamato—and likely the rest of the Wa cultural sphere—a large part of governance was focused on ritual.  The natural and what we would consider the supernatural—the visible and invisible—worked hand in hand.  To have a good harvest, it required that workers plant, water, harvest, etc. in the right seasons and in the right way.  Likewise, it was considered equally important to have someone to intercede with the kami—to ensure that the rains come at the right time, but not too much, and a host of other natural disasters that could affect the crop. And if you want to evaluate how well ritual works, well, look at them.   Are you going to trust the rituals of someone whose crops always fail and who barely has a single bronze mirror?  Or are you going to trust the rituals of someone with a thriving population, multiple mirrors, and more?  Today, we might refer to this as something like the prosperity gospel, where wealth, good health, and fortune are all seen as stemming from how well one practices their faith, and who's to say that back in the day it wasn't the same?  Humans are going to human, after all. So it makes sense that one would give some deference to a powerhouse like Yamato and even invite their ritualists to come and help teach you how it is done.  After all, the local elites were still the ones calling the shots.  Nothing had really changed. And here is where time comes in.  Because over time what started as an alliance of convenience became entrenched in tradition.  Yamato's status as primus inter pares, or first among equals, became simply one of primus.  It became part of the unspoken social contract.  Yamato couldn't push too hard on this relationship, at least not all at once, but over time they could and did demand more and more from other states. I suspect, from the way the Weizhi reads, that Yamato was in the early stages of this state development.  The Weizhi makes Queen Himiko feel like something of a consensus candidate—after much bickering, and outright fighting, she was generally accepted as the nominal paramount.  There is mention of a male ruler, previously, but we don't know if they were a ruler in Yamato, or somewhere else, nor if it was a local elite or an earlier paramount.  But not everyone in the archipelago was on board—Yamato did have rivals, somewhere to the south (or north?); the directions in the Weizhi are definitely problematic, and it may refer to someone like the Kuma or Kumaso people in southern Kyushu or else people that would become known as the Emishi further to the east of Yamato. This lasted as long as Yamato was able to continue to demonstrate why they were at the top of this structure.  Theoretically, anyone else could climb up there as well, and there are certainly a few other powerful states that we can identify, some by their mention and some by their almost lack of mention.  Izumo and Kibi come to mind almost immediately. The Weizhi makes it clear that Himiko's rule was not absolute, and part of her reaching out to the Wei in the first place may have been the first attempt at something new—external validation by the continent.  A large part of international diplomacy is as much about making people believe you have the power to do something as actually having that power.  Getting recognition from someone like the Wei court would further legitimize Yamato's place at the top of the heap, making things easier for them in the long run. Unfortunately, it seems like things did not go so smoothly, and after Himiko's death, someone else came to power, but was quickly deposed before a younger queen took over—the 13 year old Toyo.  Of course, the Wei and then the Jin had their own problems, so we don't get too many details after that, and from there we lose the thread on what was happening from a contemporary perspective.  Instead, we have to rely on the stories in the Nihon Shoki and Kojiki, which are several hundred years after the fact, and clearly designed as a legitimizing narrative, but still present us something of a picture.  We don't see many stories of local elites being overthrown, though there do seem to be a fair number of military campaigns.  Nonetheless, even if they were propped up by Yamato, local elites likely had a lot of autonomy, at least early on, even as they were coopted into the larger Yamato umbrella.  Yamato itself also saw ups and downs as it tried to figure out how to create a stable succession plan from one ruler to the next.  At some point they set up a court, where individuals from across the archipelago came and served, and they created alliances with Baekje, on the peninsula, as well as with another polity which we know of as Nimna.  Through them, Yamato continued to engage with the continent when the dynastic struggles there allowed for it.  The alliance with Baekje likely provided even more legitimacy for Yamato's position in the archipelago, as well as access to continental goods. Meanwhile the court system Yamato set up provided a means for Yamato to, itself, become a legitimizing factor. Hierarchical differences in society were already visible in the Yayoi period, so we can generally assume that the idea of social rank was not a new concept for Yamato or the other Wa polities.  This is eventually codified into the kabane system, but it is probably likely that many of the kabane came about, originally, as titles of rank used within the various polities.  Yamato's ability to claim to give—or even take away—that kabane title, would have been a new lever of power for Yamato.  Theoretically, other polities could just ignore them and keep going on with their daily lives, but if they had already bought into the social structure and worldview that Yamato was promoting, then they likely would have acquiesced, at least in part, to Yamato's control. Little by little, Yamato's influence grew, particularly on those closer to the center.  Those closer, and more affected, started to listen to Yamato's rules about kofun size and shape, while those further on the fringes started to adopt Yamato's traditions for themselves, while perhaps maintaining greater independence. An early outlier is the Dazai.  It is unclear whether this was forcibly imposed on the old region of Na and nearby Ito, or if it was more diplomatically established.  In the end, though, Yamato established an outpost in the region early on, almost before they started their practice of setting up “miyake”, the various royal granaries that appear to have also become local Yamato government offices in the various lands.  The Dazai was more than just a conduit to accept taxes in the form of rice from various locals—it was also in charge of missions to the continent.  Whether they were coming or going, military or diplomatic, the Dazai was expected to remain prepared.  The early iterations were likely in slightly different locations, and perhaps not as large, but still in roughly the area near modern Fukuoka and Dazai.  This was a perfect place not only from which to prepare to launch or receive missions from the continent, but also to defend the nearby Shimonoseki straits, which was an important entryway into the Seto Inland Sea, the most direct route to Naniwa and the Yamato court. The first iterations of direct Yamato control in Tsukushi—modern Fukuoka—claim to have been focused largely on being a last point to supply troops heading over to fight on the peninsula, not unlike the role of Nagoya castle on the Higashi-Matsuura peninsula in the 16th century.  Over time, though, it grew into much more.  The Weizhi, for its part mentions something in the land of Ito, where there were rooms set up for envoys from the continent, but the Dazai was this on steroids. Occasionally we see evidence of pushback against Yamato's expansion of powers.  Early on, some states tried to fool the envoys into thinking that they were Yamato, perhaps attempting to garner the trade goods for themselves and to take Yamato's place as the interlocutor between the Wa polities and the continent.  We also see outright rebellions—from Iwai in Kyushu, in the 6th century, but also from various Emishi leaders as well.  The Iwai rebellion may have been part of the impetus for setting up the Dazai as a way to remotely govern Tsukushi—or at least help keep people in line.  For the most part, though, as time goes by, it would seem that Yamato's authority over other polities just became tradition, and each new thing that Yamato introduced appears to have been accepted by the various other polities, over time.  This is likely a much more intricate process than even I'm describing here, but I'm not sure that it was necessarily a conscious one; as the concept of Yamato as the “paramount” state grew, others ceded it more and more power, which only fed Yamato's self-image as the paramount state.  As the elites came under the Yamato court and rank system, they were more closely tied to it, and so Yamato's increased power was, in a way, passed on to them as well.  At least to those who bought in. By the 5th century, we know that there were families sending people to the court from as far away as Hi no Kuni in Kyushu—near modern Kumamoto—and Musashi no Kuni in the east—including modern Saitama.  All of that said, while they may have subordinated themselves to Yamato in some ways, the various polities still maintained some independent actions and traditions.  For example, whatever their connection to Yamato, the tombs at Itoshima also demonstrate a close connection to the peninsula.  The horizontal entry chamber style of tomb—something we saw a lot in Iki, and which seems to have been introduced from the continent—started to become popular in the latter half of the 4th century, at least in the west of the archipelago. This is well before we see anything like it in Yamato or elsewhere, though it was eventually used across the archipelago.  Itoshima appears to have been an early adopter of this tomb style, picking it up even before the rest of the archipelago caught on, making them the OG horizontal chambers, at least in Japan. Ultimately, the image we have of Ito-koku is of an apparently small but relatively influential state with some influence on the cross-strait trade, with close ties to Yamato. The history of the region seems a bit murky past the Kofun period.  There are earthworks of an old mountain castle on Mt. Raizan that could be from the Asuka period, and in the 8th century the government built Ito castle on the slopes of Mt. Takaso, possibly to provide some protection to the Dazaifu, which was the Yamato outpost in Kyushu, and eventually became the main administrative center for the island.  It seems, then, that whatever power the country of Ito may have once had, it was subsumed by the Dazai, which was built a little inland, east of the old Na territory.  Furthermore, as ships grew more seaworthy over time, they could make the longer voyages straight to Iki or Tsushima from Hakata.  For the most part, the area of the Itoshima peninsula seems to have been merely a set of districts in the larger Tsukushi and then the Chikuzen provinces.  The area of Na, meanwhile, which is said to have had 20,000 households in the 3rd century—much larger than nearby Ito—was completely eclipsed by the Dazaifu after the Iwai rebellion.  After the fall of Baekje, the Dazaifu took on even greater administrative duties, and eventually took over all diplomatic engagement with the continent.  They even set up a facility for hosting diplomatic envoys from the continent.  This would come to be known as the Kourokan, and they actually found the ruins of it near the site where Maizuru castle was eventually built in what is now Chuo-ku, or the central ward, of Fukuoka city. From the Heian period onwards, the Harada family eventually came to have some power in the area, largely subordinate to others, but they built another castle on Mt. Takaso, using some of the old Ito Castle earthworks, and participated in the defense of the nation during the Mongol invasions. The Harada family rose briefly towards the end of the Sengoku Period, pushing out the Otomo as Hideyoshi's campaign swept into Kyushu.  They weren't quite fast enough to join Hideyoshi's side, though, and became subordinate to Kato Kiyomasa and eventually met their end during the Invasions of Korea. The Ito district at some point after that became part of the So clan's holdings, falling under Tsushima's purview, along with a scattering of districts elsewhere, all likely more about the revenue produced than local governance.  In the Edo period, there were some efforts to reclaim land in Imazu bay, further solidifying links with the Itoshima peninsula and the mainland, but that also fits in with the largely agricultural lifestyle of the people in the region.  It seems to have remained largely a rural backwater up into modern times, when the Ito and Shima districts were combined into an administrative district known as “Itoshima city”. Meanwhile, the Dazaifu continued to dominate the region of modern Fukuoka.  Early on, worried about a Silla-Tang alliance, the Yamato state built massive forts and earthworks were built around the Dazaifu to protect the region from invasion.  As the Tang dynasty gave way to the Song and Yuan dynasties, however, and the Heian court itself became more insular, the Dazaifu's role faded, somewhat.  The buildings were burned down in the 10th century, during the failed revolt of Fujiwara no Sumitomo.  The government never rebuilt, and instead the center of regional government shifted to Hakata, closer to the bay. Appointed officials to the Dazai were known as the Daini and the Shoni.  Mutou Sukeyori was appointed as Dazai Shoni, the vice minister of the Dazaifu, in the late 12th century.  Though he had supported the Taira in the Genpei wars, he was pardoned and made the guardian of Northern Kyushu, to help keep the region in check for the newly established Kamakura Bakufu.  He would effectively turn that into a hereditary position, and his family became known as the “Shoni”, with their position eventually coming to be their family name.  They would provide commendable service against the Mongol invasion, and eventually became the Shugo Daimyo over much of western Kyushu and the associated islands, though not without pushback from others in the region. Over time, the power of the Shoni waned and various other daimyo began to rise up.  The chaos of the Sengoku period saw the entire area change hands, back and forth, until Hideyoshi's invasion of Kyushu.  Hideyoshi divided up control of Kyushu, and Chikuzen, including the areas of Hakata and modern Itoshima, was given to Kobayakawa Takakage.  Hideyoshi also began to redevelop the port of Hakata.  After the battle of Sekigahara, Kobayakawa Hideaki, Takakage's adopted son and nephew to the late Hideyoshi, was transferred to the fief of Okayama, and the area of modern Fukuoka city was given to Kuroda Nagamasa, creating the Fukuoka Han, also known as the Kuroda Han. Nagamasa would go on to build Maizuru Castle on the other side of the Naka river from the port of Hakata, creating two towns with separate administration, each of which fell under the ultimate authority of the Kuroda.  Hakata, on the east side of the river, was a city of merchants while Fukuoka was the castle town, and largely the domain of samurai serving the Kuroda.  The Kuroda would remain in control of the Fukuoka domain through the Edo period, and only lost control at the very start of the Meiji, as the domain system in general was dissolved. Over that time, Hakata remained an important port city, and the samurai of Fukuoka were known for maintaining their martial traditions. In the Meiji era, samurai from the Kuroda Han joined with other Kyushu samurai, rising up during Saigo Takamori's rebellion.  Later, it would be former samurai and others from Fukuoka who would form the Gen'yosha, an early right wing, nationalist organization that would greatly influence the Japanese government heading into the latter part of the 19th and early 20th century. But that is getting well into more modern territory, and there is so much else we could discuss regarding the history of this area, and with any luck we will get to it all in time.  For now, this concludes our Gishiwajinden Tour—we traveled from Kara, to Tsushima and Iki, and then on to Matsuro, Ito, and Na.  From here the envoys traveled on to Fumi, Toma, and then Yamato.  Fumi and Toma are still elusive locations, with various theories and interpretations as to where they were.   For us, this was the end of our journey. Next episode we will be back with the Chronicles and getting into the Taika era, the era of Great Change.  There we will really see Yamato starting to flex its administrative muscles as it brings the various polities of the archipelago together into a single state, which will eventually become known as the country of Nihon, aka Japan. Until then, thank you for listening.  If you like what we are doing, 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 us at 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.

Join André, The Impulsive Thinker, as he sits down with Mark Fujiwara to dig deep into the mental health struggles unique to ADHD Entrepreneurs. Mark, co-founder of The Epic F.I.T. Network and founder of Ikigai Court, opens up about his journey and the impact of depressive triggers and anxiety. Together, they explore practical strategies for emotional regulation, maintaining mental health, and preventing burnout.    Check out the ADHD Transform Journey™ that is now available. Download The Sh!t List™, my weekly planning tool. We want to hear from you! Please send show ideas, questions, or feedback to podcast@theimpulsivethinker.com and join our mailing list! Watch the podcasts on YouTube and connect with me on LinkedIn. Check out our website.   Guest: Mark Fujiwara is the co-Founder of The Epic F.I.T. Network and founder of Ikigai Court, a charitable organization supporting the mental well-being of entrepreneurs from startup to exit. He is also an investor in Pick My Brain. Mark has been a pivotal voice in mental health discussions on the podcast since the first season. His work focuses on the often misunderstood and lonely journey of ADHD Entrepreneurs, making a significant impact on enhancing mental health awareness within this community. Mark's contributions continue to help entrepreneurs maintain their mental well-being while navigating the complexities of their professional lives.

This is Part 3 of our Gishiwajinden Tour--following the route of the Wei embassy through the land of Wa and looking at the various locations along the way.  So far we've looked at the old land of Gaya, as represented at Gimhae, the site of the old Geumgwan Gaya, and the island of Tsushima, on the border.  This episode we look at the next island:  Iki. It might be easy to overlook Iki--it was neither the center nor exactly the periphery.  From the point of view of those in the court or those outside it was rather "mid", in a literal sense.  However, it was certainly at the center of its own vibrant history, which was certainly important to everyone there, and hosted a thriving community. It is also a great place to visit in the modern day: something of a hidden gem for anyone looking for a slightly more out of the way place to visit, with a slower pace than cities like Tokyo. For more, see our blog page:  https://www.sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/iki-koku Rough Translation: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Gishiwajinden Tour Part 3: Iki-koku. As regular listeners know, we are currently taking a break from the Chronicles.  With the Isshi Incident of 645—see Episode 107—we are about to get into the time known as “Taika” or “Great Change”.  Spoiler alert: This is the rise of Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou; Nakatomi Kamako, aka Nakatomi Kamatari, the progenitor of the Fujiwara family; and more.  It is the beginning of what is known as the Ritsuryo System, the idea of a state governed by laws and punishments similar to what we see on the continent, based largely on Confucian principles, but mixed with a healthy dose of local tradition.  There is a lot there, and I want to do it justice.  And so for now I have a little bonus content for you. Earlier this year, Ellen and I took a trip based on the account in the Gishiwajinden, the Wa section of the Weizhi, the section in the Wei Chronicles regarding the trip to visit Queen Himiko of Wa.  In Part 1 we talked about our trip to Gimhae, formerly known as Geumgwan Gaya, a part of the old Gaya—or Kara—confederacy, with close ties to the archipelago.  Part 2 we talked about our next stop, the island of Tsushima.  But we didn't just talk about it in the 3rd century, because if you visit there is so much more to see from an historical perspective. This episode we are talking about the island of Iki, aka Ikijima, though in the Weizhi it is known as its own country:  Iki-koku. Relative to Tsushima, Iki island is much smaller—about one fifth the overall landmass.  However, it is much flatter as well—the highest point is only 212 meters above sea level, compared to Tsushima, which rises to about 649 meters at Mt. Yatate.  This makes Iki an island with a lot of flat land or rolling hills—perfect for the kind of wet rice paddy agriculture that created the population boom in the Yayoi period, which we will talk about here in a minute.  However, I will note that even today the population of Iki is similar to that of Tsushima despite having much less space. The flora and fauna of the island is much closer to that of the rest of the archipelago—in fact, it is nearly identical to what you would find in southwest Kyushu.  This is not surprising given how close it is.  For reference, Hitakatsu, on Tsushima is under 50km from Busan, Korea, and about 147 km to Hakata port in Fukuoka, or 138 km if you depart from Izuhara port instead.  Comparatively, it is about 76 km from Hakata to Iki, and even less—just about 42km—from Iki to Karatsu, south of Fukuoka, and these routes are dotted with islands along the way.  At its closest point, Iki is probably only 20km from Kyushu, but the ferries only stop at certain ports.  Tsushima to Iki, on the other hand, is around 68 km, from Izuhara to Iki.  Iki is about as close to Karatsu as Tsushima is to Pusan, and they are both further away from each other than from their respective larger landmasses.  That makes this leg – Tsushima to Iki - the longest leg in the trip, realistically. Today, both Iki and Tsushima, along with the Goto islands to the south, are all part of Nagasaki prefecture, despite the fact that they are both closer to Saga and Fukuoka prefectures.  This is in part because Iki came under the jurisdiction of the Hirado domain, which also was heavily involved with foreign trade through Nagasaki. Today, Iki is broken up into roughly four areas.  This includes Katsumoto, Ashibe, Indoji, and Gonoura, based around the four main port towns on the island.  Three of these ports, Ashibe, Indoji, and Gonoura, have ferries that regularly travel to either Tsushima or Kyushu. And all of them have various boats to take people out the islands around Iki, one of the major draws for many people coming to the island being to see the natural beauty of its coastline and surrounding waters.  There is also a small airport. Although Iki is small—you can drive from one end to the other in 40 minutes or less—I highly recommend renting a car, much like Tsushima.  This will be helpful to get to various sites, although be aware that while the main roads are well cared for, there are plenty of roads where it is better to go on foot rather than get stopped by fallen trees and branches in a less well maintained area.  Taxis can be had, but aren't always convenient, and that adds cost and time.  A car will give you much more freedom to get around. Iki is a popular tourist destination, with more people coming during the summer months.  We were there in the off-season, which was somewhat nice, but also meant that many restaurants and the like were closed.  Also, similar to Tsushima, there isn't a konbini—a convenience store—on every street corner.  You can certainly find them, but just be aware.  That said, we never really had a problem finding what we needed. Iki is known for several things.  One, perhaps unsurprisingly, is the squid, and you can see the squid boats in the harbor or out at night.  They have arrays of lights set up, to help draw the squid to the surface, a common technique around the world that makes squid fishing quite distinctive. In addition, Iki island is quite proud of its beef, a much more recent addition.  The flat land allows them to raise cattle, and the Iki raised wagyu cattle, known as Iki-gyu, is highly prized.  You can find several yakiniku restaurants around the island, that particular Japanese style of Korean barbecue where you grill up thinly sliced beef on a hot skillet or even an open grill at your table. An older product is the barley shochu.  Iki island is said to be the birthplace of barley shochu, developing it in the 17th century.  Back then, taxes from the island had to be paid in rice, and there wasn't enough left to make much alcohol, such as traditional sake.  As such, the local farmers started using barley and koji, instead, to make the base alcohol that they then distilled into shochu.  Shochu itself goes back to at least the 16th century, as distilling techniques reached southern Japan via either the Ryukyu kingdom or via the Korean peninsula—records are unclear, as these techniques reached both places before Japan, and Kyushu had connections to each.  That said, early shochu was made with rice, and later it would be made with cheaper ingredients, such as barley, in the case of Iki, or sweet potato, in Satsuma, modern Kagoshima.  These methods spread to other parts of Japan. There are plenty of other food options available on the island as well, and I don't think we had a bad meal anywhere we went. And so we left Izuhara port, on Tsushima, early in the morning and arrived at Ashibe port around lunchtime.  We had arranged a car to meet us at the port, and after grabbing a bite at a locally renowned yakinikuya, we decided to start getting our historical bearings on the island.   Our main objective on Iki island was to see the Yayoi site of Harunotsuji and the Iki-koku Museum, the museum of the country of Iki. Quick note for anyone looking this up:  The “Haru” in “Harunotsuji” is typically pronounced “Hara” outside of Kyushu and Okinawa.  This affects a lot of placenames in Kyushu, including Iki, and likely comes from remnants of an old dialect of Japanese spoken in this area.  Whatever the reason, if you look up the site in Japanese you may want to type “Hara-no-tsuji” to help find the right kanji. Harunotsuji site is an incredible find in regards to the Yayoi period.  It was a large settlement built on flat land in the interior of the island.  Today it is surrounded by rice fields, and fortunately nobody else seems to have built up on the raised hills where the settlement once stood, allowing the site to remain for us to find years later.  This is one of the better preserved sites from the Yayoi period, and is often touted as the likely center of activity in Iki during that period.  Of course, as with other sites, like Yoshinogari, we can only see those sites  that were preserved—those that were built upon in later generations may not have left any trace.  However, in this case there's clear evidence that there was a thriving community here.  And because of that, and the tremendous effort they've put into reconstructing the site, as well as the excellent museum, we wanted to make sure that we gave Iki a visit. There aren't many museums on Iki island, but the Iki-koku museum ranks up there with some of the best we've visited.  The building itself is built to blend into the landscape, and from the observation tower you can look out over the Harunotsuji site.  The museum provides an automated introduction to the area, with a small film depicting what they believe life was probably like back in the Yayoi period.  From there you travel down a hallway that takes you through the history of Iki, but eventually deposits you in a room focused on the Yayoi period.  Here they show a reconstructed boat, as well as a large diorama of the Harunotsuji site. One of the major finds at Harunotsuji is what appears to be a dock, reinforced with rocks, similar to what they find on the continent.  This dock was at a small stream that was once larger, and was likely used to ferry goods and people from Harunotsuji to a settlement or outpost on the shore.  It gives greater insight into what trade and life looked like. Speaking of which, props to the museum for their excellent use of often comical figures in their diorama, which is clearly made to appeal to young and old alike.  They help humanize the figures, and each part of the layout that they created of the site tells a story about what was going on. In addition to the diorama of the site, and what it may have looked like, there were also actual Yayoi era pots that were there which you could pick up and handle yourself.  I have to admit that I did this with some trepidation, even knowing that these were not particularly special, and that there are many pots and shards that are found at sites like these.  Still, it was something to actually handle a pot that was made back in that time—something that was made by an actual person living back then and used for whatever purpose before it was discarded or lost, only to be found centuries later.  Besides the room on the site, there is another side to the museum in that it is a working archaeological center.  You can see the lab where people are working, and they also have a room where you can see the stacks—the giant shelves with all of the historical and archaeological bits and bobs that weren't on display for one reason or another.  That is something that many people don't always appreciate:  For many museums, only a portion of their collection is actually on display.  It was really great to see all of that out in the open. The museum also has a café and some function rooms, as well as a giant observation tower, from which it feels like you can see the entire island, and beyond.  You could definitely look down and see the site, but you could also see some of the more distant islands as well. From the museum we went down to see the actual Harunotsuji site.  There is another museum there, which was a little less impressive but still quite informative, and it was where you park and then walk over to the site itself.  And here I admit that it was getting late, so we came back to it another day, but it doesn't really take that long to see the site itself. Most of the site sits on a rise of land that sits just a little higher than the surrounding fields, with a gentle slope to it.  It is oddly shaped, likely because they used the natural contours of the land rather than explicitly building up a terrace.  There is another rise towards one end of the settlement, with what may have been a fence around the area, indicating that the buildings in that area were set aside as special.  There are also ditches that appear to have been purposefully dug to separate a part of the rise from the area of the settlement, as buildings were apparently found on one side but not the other.  What was found was a small area surrounded by a moat, generally thought to have been used for some kind of ritual. At the site today are reconstructed buildings of multiple kinds, based on the archeological findings.  There are pit buildings, buildings sitting flush on the ground, as well as raised buildings, all based likely on the arrangements and size of post-holes and the like.  There also appears to have been some kind of gate or barrier structure, also based on postholes, which they have physically reconstructed. It is always tricky to interpret what a building looked like other than guessing at its general shape and size.  Extremely large post-holes likely held larger posts, which would make particular sense if they were for a tall structure, like a watchtower, but exact architectural features such as doorways, roof structure, etc. are derived based on other examples as well as Shinto shrine architecture, which seems to originate from some of the early Yayoi buildings. There were also some finds in the surrounding areas, including what appears to have been a stone-lined dock for boats to pull up, some kind of guard post to inspect people entering or leaving the settlement, and moats, which likely surrounded the settlement as well. Harunotsuji is not the only Yayoi site that has been excavated on Iki island, but nothing else is quite so large.  Put in context with other archaeological sites from the same time period, Harunotsuji is thought to have been the most powerful, and therefore where the ruler, or the quote-unquote “King”, of Iki would have lived. Here I'd note that the interpretation of Harunotsuji as a kingly capital is quite prevalent in the local literature, but what exactly was a “king” in this sense isn't fully explored.  As we talked about two episodes back with Gimhae and the quote-unquote “Kingdom” of Gaya, Iki-koku probably better fits the English term of a large chiefdom, rather than a kingdom.  However, that would also likely apply to Queen Himiko, as well—even if her chiefdom dwarfed Iki-koku by comparison. That said, there certainly appears to be a social stratification of some kind going on at the site, especially with a special area clearly set aside at one end of the settlement.  Was that where a shaman-king—or queen—similar to Himiko carried out private, arcane rites on behalf of the entire settlement?  Perhaps the entire island?  Or is it something else? Unfortunately, we can't really know, at least not right now.  However, we do know that it was an important part of the trade routes from the continent out to the archipelago.  This isn't just because of the Weizhi, or the common sense that this is the clearest route between the two, but also because of artifacts found at the site, which include abundant goods from the continent.  In addition we found evidence of dogs, armor, shields, and various pots. One thing I didn't see evidence of was a large funkyubo, like at Yoshinogari, where they buried people in pots on a large, communal cemetery mound.  Here the highest elevations appear to have been used for living structures.  There were graves discovered, and some of these were the pot-style burials found at Yoshinogari and the continent, and others were rectangular, stone-lined coffins, similar to those used on the Tsushima kofun:  they are lined with large, flat slabs that define a rectangle, into which the body is placed, and then flat slabs of stone are used to cover it back up. Harunotsuji shows signs of habitation from the start of the Yayoi period to the beginning of the Kofun period.  After that, though, the trail grows a bit cold. We do know, however, that people were still living on Iki through the Kofun period—we assume they didn't just pack up their bags and leave—and that is thanks to the many kofun found across the island.  There are some 280 kofun preserved today, and Edo period accounts had that number at more like 340.  Indeed, Iki has one of the largest and best preserved collection of kofun of all of Kyushu.   Many are smaller kofun, but there are plenty of groups of large kingly kofun.  A group of the larger kingly kofun can be found in the border area between Katsumoto-cho and Ashibe-cho, due west of Ashibe port.  This includes the large Soroku Kofun, Oni-no-iwaya Kofun, the Sasazuka Kofun, as well as the Kakegi kofun and the Yurihata Kofun-gun.  Soroku kofun, a large, keyhole shaped tomb, boasts a length of 91 meters, making it not only the largest on the island, but the largest in all of Nagasaki prefecture.   Kofun culture on the island differed slightly from elsewhere.  For instance, there is evidence of multiple burials in the same tomb, suggesting that they were viewed more like family mausoleums than  simply a single tomb structure. The earliest kofun found on Iki so far can be dated to about the latter half of the 5th century, with most of them being built in the 6th to 7th centuries.  Many are stone chambers with a horizontal entryway, which in the case of the Kakegi and Sasazuka kofun, are open to those who want to get in and explore.  Be aware, though, as many signs tell you, various local residents have also made these tombs their homes, including bats, centipedes, snakes, and more.  Most of them are relatively harmless, but it is always good to know what you are getting into. With the earliest kofun on the island dating to about the 5th century, this does pose a slight question yet to be answered by the archaeological record:  Where were people living in the century between the end of Harunotsuji and the start of the kofun building period?  Heck, where were people living on the island at all?  We certainly know where the dead were buried. Looking at a map, one probably assumes that many of the kingly kofun would have been built somewhat near a population center.  After all, you don't build giant burial mounds just to hide them—these would have likely been visible to people in some way, shape, or form.  I would note that modern roads, likely built on earlier pathways, wind in between the kofun, even today. Personally, I can't help but notice that the Iki Kokubunji temple, the Provincial temple built in the 8th century, was quite close to some of the kingly kofun in Katsumoto.  It is said that this temple was originally built as the family temple of the Iki clan.  As one might guess from the name, the Iki were the traditional rulers of Iki, officially appointed by Yamato as the “Agata-nushi” or district lord, and later as “Shima no Miyatsuko”—the island equivalent of a “Kuni no Miyatsuko”.  Various biographies trace the Iki back to various lineages close to or intertwined with the Nakatomi.  However, this is not without some debate, and it is entirely possible that any such ties were fabricated to give the Iki clan greater clout and stature.  It is possible, and even likely, that the Iki clan grew out of the ruling elite on Iki island. In addition, we have the old Tsukiyomi Jinja, said to be the oldest on the island, and the Kunikatanushi shrine built right next to the Kokubunji site.  The Tsukiyomi shrine is dedicated to the moon god, who is said to be the god of navigation, among other things, and this is the clan shrine of the Iki clan. It is unclear, but seems plausible that the center of the Iki polity may have shifted north, to the modern Kokubun area.  If so, and if this continued to be the area of the regional government headquarters through the Nara period and beyond, then it is possible that any earlier settlements would have simply been covered up and even erased by later buildings and structures.  I don't think we'll ever truly know, though, unless something significant is uncovered. We do have some historical records of later Iki, quite understandable as it was where many of the envoys and expeditions to and from the mainland would have stopped. In the 11th century, Iki, along with Tsushima, was attacked by pirates from the mainland, thought to be of Jurchen descent, in an event called the Toi Invasion, which caused quite a bit of destruction.  After that we see the rise of the Matsura clan.  They arose in the Matsura area of Hizen province, just a little ways over from Karatsu.  That name may be related to “Matsuro”, but we'll talk more about that when we get to Karatsu. The Matsura largely came to power thanks to their navy—which was a navy to some and pirates to others.  They ended up gaining a foothold in Iki island. Whatever plans they had, however, met with a giant setback in 1274.  As we discussed last episode, that was when the first Mongol invasion hit Japan, and after steamrolling through Tsushima they began a bloody conquest of Iki.  The video game, Ghosts of Tsushima, which we talked about fairly extensively last episode for, well, obvious reasons, actually has an expanded Iki island area for those who want to try fighting off this invasion for themselves.  There are numerous reminders across the island of the invasions, both in 1274 and 1281.  The death toll was catastrophic, and even today parents will often tell their children that if they don't behave the Mongols will come back and take them away. In 1338, soon afer the Ashikaga shogun came to power, Ashikaga Takauji and his brother, Tadayoshi, directed the erection of temples in all 66 provinces, including Iki, to pray for the repose of those who died in battle during turbulent times, including the Mongol invasions and the later civil war.  That temple is still there, just a little ways north from the Harunotsuji site. The temple building itself only dates from the Edo period, as it burned down multiple times, but it is still said that it is the oldest extant temple building on the island.  There is a large cedar tree thought to be over a thousand years old, which may have even been there during the Toi and Mongol invasions.  There are also signs of Christian activity in some of the artwork, if you know what to look for. When Europeans arrived in Japan in the 16th century, they brought not only guns, but also a new religion:  Christianity.  Priests were given permission to set up churches and convert people.  Some daimyo converted—whether out of true faith or simply to get more lucrative trading deals with Europeans—and they often made their entire fief convert as well.  When Christianity was eventually outlawed, many Christian communities went underground, becoming known as “Hidden Christians.”  A lot of these communities continued, especially in the Iki and Goto islands, which were a little further away from shogunal authority.  They continued despite the lack of priests and Bibles, often using iconography that could be plausibly passed off as Buddhist or Shinto in nature.  Many remained in hiding throughout the Edo period, only revealing themselves after the Meiji government came in and issued a law protecting the freedom of religion, including Christianity.  Around Iki you will occasionally find little hints of such communities' existence. The 16th century saw more than just European traders and new religions.  The Matsura clan retained control over the island from their base in Hirado, even during the tumultuous era of Warring States.  Last episode we talked about how Toyotomi Hideyoshi, the new Taiko, came out of that time and declared war on the Joseon court, in Korea. To start with he built Nagoya castle on Kyushu and moved himself and all of his retainers out to it.  And before you ask, no, this probably isn't the Nagoya castle you are thinking of.  Similar name, but different kanji characters Anyway, from Nagoya on the coast of Kyushu, supply lines were run out to Tsushima, and then across to Busan.  To defend against a counterattack by Joseon forces, they built castles along the way as well.  In Iki, this meant building several, including Katsumoto-jo, at the northern end of the island, under the command of Matsura Shigenobu. Later, Tokugawa Ieyasu, eager to restore good will with the peninsula, would have the castles intentionally ruined, often by removing key stones so that they could no longer be considered defensible.  Today you can climb up to the Katsumoto-jo castle site and see the stones of the main gate and get a tremendous view from the observation platform. Katsumoto Castle isn't the only thing in Katsumoto that still remains from that time.  There is a local shrine, the Shomogu Shrine, which has a gate donated by Kato Kiyomasa, one of the generals who led troops on the invasion of Korea.  They also hold a cup that he is said to have donated. This shrine is certainly interesting and worth a visit.  Traditionally, they say that it was built on the site where Jingu Tennou departed from Iki during her legendary conquest of the Korean peninsula.  According to at least one source, at that time she called the place Kazamoto, the place where the wind comes from, and when she returned she changed it to Katsumoto, the place where her victory came from.  Of course, as we know, that whole narrative is rather suspect.  It is possible that the area was known as Kazamoto and that changed to Katsumoto. It also doesn't help that this is also where the Mongol army came ashore back in the 13th century, and I suspect that not much remained from before.  Still, there is a stone that is said to have the print of Jingu's horse's foot as she left, and it was at least connected to the ocean, given its location. There is a contention that this shrine may have once been known as “Nakatsu” shrine, literally “Middle port” shrine, one of the shrines listed in the Engi Shiki.  However, there is another Nakatsu shrine that also claims this distinction, also in Katsumoto-cho.  The Shomogu shrine theory holds that this was a branch shrine of Shomogu shrine, then known as Nakatsu.  This makes some sense as the current Nakatsu shrine is more inland, not exactly lending itself to being the “Middle Port” Shrine.  Then again, it would have referred to “Nakatsumiya”, meaning the “middle shrine” or “middle palace”, which puts us back at square one. More important than the actual history of this shrine, at least in the 16th century, is the fact that those generals heading off to conquer the Korean peninsula definitely would have appreciated praying to the spirit of Jingu Tennou before heading off to try it a second time.  Shomogu Shrine clearly had a link with her by then. By the way, slight side note, the “Shomo” of “Shomogu” literally means “Holy Mother”.  In this case it is referencing the “Holy Mother” Jingu Tenno, who was pregnant when she left Japan and didn't give birth until she came back—not quite a virgin birth.  “Shomo” was also the term that Christians, particularly hidden Christians, used to reference the Virgin Mary.  While I cannot find any evidence that Shomogu Shrine was connected with Christianity—its existence and worship there predates that religion coming to the archipelago by some time—it is still one of those things that the Hidden Christians could have used to their advantage, hiding their worship of the Virgin Mary and her holy child behind the name for Jingu Tenno. Now the town of Katsumoto, although only briefly a castle town, was still quite important through the Edo period, and the main street certainly recalls a time long past.  We stayed in a ryokan there that was over 100 years old, and there is both a sake brewery, and a craft beer brewery inside an old sake brewery, just down the street.  It isn't a big town, but it has character. In the Edo period, many of the Joseon envoys stopped in Katsumoto on their way to or from the archipelago.  These envoys typically had around 400 to 450 of their own people from Korea, but by the time they reached Iki they were joined by about 800 quote-unquote “guides” from Tsushima who were there to help them with whatever they needed.  Technically it was up to the Matsura daimyo, in Hirado, to provide for their needs, but it seems that more often than not that role more immediately fell to the wealthiest family on the island, the Toi family. The Toi family—not to be confused with the Toi invasion—made their money from capturing whales; a lucrative but dangerous enterprise, especially given the state of the boats at the time.  The stone wall of their mansion can still be seen in Katsumoto, though it is now wedged in between other buildings, as the mansion itself is otherwise long gone.  They may not have been daimyo, but they were apparently the rough equivalent for the people of Iki, and certainly Katsumoto. The envoys ended up calling at Katsumoto about 19 times between 1607 and 1811—11 times on the outbound trip and 8 times going the other direction.  For one mission, in the 18th century, we are even provided the amount of food that they required, which included 1500 sweet potatoes, 15,000 eggs, 7 and a half tons of abalone, 3 tons of squid, 7 and a half tons of rice, and 15 koku of sake, equaling about 1500 standard bottles, today.  A drawing of the 1748 envoy showed parts of Katsumoto that you can still visit, today, including the old boat launch, the Shomogu shrine and nearby streets, Shigayama, and what is today “Itsukushima Shrine”, related to the worship of Susano'o's three daughters, as are the Munakata shrines and the Itsukushima shrine on Miyajima with the famous torii in the water. Besides the historical sites, Iki island offers a plethora of other activities and attractions.  The famous monkey rock, or Saruiwa, is a famed natural feature, as are many others.  There are also beaches that people appear to enjoy—though we were there in the winter, so not great—or just getting out in a boat and seeing the natural beauty of the island.  There are also many more shrines and temples to visit; Iki has its own 88 temple pilgrimage based on the 88 temple pilgrimage of places like Shikoku.  You can also do a pilgrimage of the many Shinto shrines, some of which are mentioned in historical documents like the Engi Shiki and others that are more modern.  While many of the buildings are often newer, and things have of course changed over the centuries, these sites often still contain connections to history, and may even have historical treasures in their storehouses or on the grounds. We only had a limited time, so tried to keep our trip focused on more of the Yayoi and Kofun era stuff.  We both agreed we would gladly go back again in a heartbeat. Next up, we caught the ferry from Indoji on Iki over to Karatsu port on Kyushu, what is thought to be the site of the old Matsuro kingdom.  While others might point to the modern Matsuura city area, this region is may be more likely, and we'll talk about that next episode.  In addition, we'll talk about Karatsu, which literally means “Chinese port”, and about the nearby castle ruins of Nagoya castle—an area that was, for about seven brief years, in the late 16th century the de facto capital of Japan. But that will be next time. Until then, thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, 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 us at 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.

In this short episode of VGMP, the boys take a look at this strange and little-known animated Street Fighter movie that was originally released as part of a historic celebration of Japanese culture! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Mokuhanga today can be made in so many ways. So many inspirations, so many people creating beautiful pieces from all over the world. Coming to you from Obihiro, Hokkaido, I have been traveling around Japan for over a month. Coming back to Japan is always an inspiring act and it is already like a second home to me. What brought me back to Japan this time around was the 2024 International Mokuhanga Conference held in Echizen City, Fukui, Japan. Meeting with so many mokuhanga artists, carvers, and printers inspired me and makes me want to be a better artist and to make a better podcast. On this episode of The Unfinished Print I speak with one of the mokuhanga artists who also attended the 2024 IMC. Jason Fujiwara. Jason lives and works in Tokyo, Japan where he creates his mokuhanga. Jason and I speak together about how he approaches his work, his inspirations, the idea of cultural identity in his prints , his time at the 2024 International Mokuhanga Conference, and Jason even asks me some questions. Please follow The Unfinished Print and my own mokuhanga work on Instagram @andrezadoroznyprints or email me at theunfinishedprint@gmail.com  Notes: may contain a hyperlink. Simply click on the highlighted word or phrase. Artists works follow after the note if available. Pieces are mokuhanga unless otherwise noted. Dimensions are given if known. Print publishers are given if known. Jason Fujiwara - website, Instagram Utagawa Hiroshige (1797-1858) - born in Edo, Hiroshige is famous for his landscape series of that burgeoning city. The most famous series being, One Hundred Famous Views of Edo (1856-1859), and the landcape series, Fifty-Three Stations of the Tōkaidō (1833-1834). His work highlights bokashi, and bright colours. More info about his work can be found, here.  Ōiso: from the series The Tōkaidō Road - The Fifty-three Stations (1851-52) Katsushika Hokusai (1760-1849) - is one of the most famous Japanese artists to have ever lived. Hokusai was an illustrator, painter and woodblock print designer. His work can be found on paper, wood, silk, and screen. His woodblock print design for Under The Wave off Kanagawa (ca. 1830-32) is beyond famous. His work, his manga, his woodblocks, his paintings, influence artists from all over the world.  Poem by Sangi Hitoshi :  the series One Hundred Poems Explained by the Nurse (n.d.) David Bull - is a Canadian woodblock printmaker, and educator who lives and works in Japan. His love of mokuhanga has almost singlehandedly promoted the art form around the world. His company, Mokuhankan, has a brick and mortar store in Asakusa, Tōkyō, and online, here.  The Forest In Summer: From the Series "My Solitudes." (2007-9) Ema Shin - Based in Melbourne, Australia, Ema Shin hails from Niigata, Japan. She pursued her education in printmaking at Tama Art University in Tokyo. Currently, her work spans across various mediums including papier-mâché, embroidery, tapestry weaving, bookmaking, urauchi, collage, and mokuhanga. For more information, visit here.  Soft Alchemy (Fertile Heart) Woven tapestry, cotton, wool, 21" x 31" x 2.3", Matthew Stanton photography. (2019)   Terry McKenna -  is a mokuhanga printmaker and teacher residing in Karuizawa, Japan. He received guidance in the art form from Richard Steiner, a prominent mokuhanga printmaker based in Kyoto. Terry established the Karuizawa Mokuhanga School, a renowned residency dedicated to mokuhanga education. For further details about Terry and his school, here. Additionally, you can read Terry's interview with The Unfinished Print, here and Richard Steiner's interview here.    Beauty (2010)   mokume - is a woodblock printing technique where, by using heavy pressure on wood which contains a heavy grain, the artist can reveal the grain in their work. Below is a fine example of mokume technique by Osamu Sugiyama:     10 Views of Mt. Fuji - Moonlight over Shinobino Moor (13"x16.9")   bokashi - is a mokuhanga technique, where the pigment fades from a heavy colour to a softer, broad colour. Made famous by prints designed by Hokusai and Hiroshige, this technique is, for me, the most popular technique utilized by  mokuhanga printmakers. There are various types: Ichimoji-bokashi or straight line graduation, used in the above mentioned Hiroshige and Hokusai prints. Ichimoji-mura-bokashi or straight line gradation with uneven edge. Ō-bokashi or wide gradation, Ate-nashi-bokashi or gradation without definition. Futa-iro-bokashi or two tone gradation, and ita-bokashi or softer-edge gradation, where the block is cut in a specific way to achieve this style of gradation. All of these styles of bokashi technique take practice and skill but are very much doable. Below is a fine example of bokashi by Paul Binnie:     Flowers of a Hundred Years: Bubble Era [of 1990] (18.5"x13") (2024)   ukiyo-e - is a form of multi-color woodblock print and painting  primarily associated with Japan's Edo Period (1603-1867). Originating in the 17th century with prints featuring only a few colors, it evolved into a sophisticated system of production and technique by the Meiji Period (1868-1912). However, with the emergence of photography and other printmaking methods, traditional ukiyo-e production ceased by the late 19th century, leaving behind a rich legacy in Japanese art history.    Procreate - is a popular digital art app designed exclusively for iPad and iPhone. It offers a wide range of tools and features that allow artists to create digital illustrations, paintings, and designs with ease. Some of its key features include a variety of brushes, layers, blending modes, and advanced editing options. Procreate has gained popularity among digital artists due to its intuitive interface, powerful capabilities, and ability to produce high-quality artwork.   A2 - is a paper size part of the ISO 216 standard and is commonly used for posters, architectural drawings, and other large format prints. Its dimensions are 594 x 420 millimeters or approximately 23.4 x 16.5 inches.   Pansion paper - is a medium-heavy kozo paper, varying in size  and weight and is predominantly used in printmaking.    Ralph Kiggell (1960-2022) : was a highly influential figure in our world of mokuhanga printmaking. Originally from England, Ralph resided and practiced his art in Thailand. Renowned for his innovative approach, Ralph pushed the boundaries of mokuhanga through his creation of exceptionally large pieces, intricate jigsaw carving techniques, and vibrant color palettes. He also played a pivotal role in promoting mokuhanga globally through his involvement with the International Mokuhanga Conference. His legacy will be deeply felt and cherished by the mokuhanga community. You can explore Ralph's work, here. You can read his obituary in The Guardian here and his interview with The Unfinished Print, here.     White Orchid (n.d.)   Keiko Kobayashi - is a mokuhanga printmaker and administrator of the International Mokuhanga Conference. She lives and works in Tokyo, Japan. More information can be found, here.    花喰い(6) 蝋梅に四十雀 (2024) 4"x4"   nengajō -  (年賀状) what began as a way for Japanese nobility to communicate with faraway friends and family during the New Year festive period, has become a way for all people to send New Year greetings to their own friends and family. More info, here.   Kay Watanabe - is an artist located in Brisbane, Australia. Her creative endeavors span across various mediums, including mokuhanga and other printmaking techniques, painting, drawing, and photography. For further details about Kay and her artistic journey, visit here.      Heaven And Earth (2019) etching on paper    Roslyn Keane -  is a mokuhanga printmaker and baren designer situated in Sydney, Australia. Her artistic creations lean towards abstraction and often feature large-scale pieces crafted using a diverse range of techniques. For additional insights into Roslyn's work, her KBB barens, and her The Stables Print Studio, visit, here.     Transition (2019/20)    © Popular Wheat Productions opening and closing credit - eating in an izakaya in Himeji, Japan with friends recorded live in 2024.  logo designed and produced by Douglas Batchelor and André Zadorozny  Disclaimer: Please do not reproduce or use anything from this podcast without shooting me an email and getting my express written or verbal consent. I'm friendly :) Слава Українi If you find any issue with something in the show notes please let me know. ***The opinions expressed by guests in The Unfinished Print podcast are not necessarily those of André Zadorozny and of Popular Wheat Productions.***                

Ikigai ist ein Konzept aus Japan und beschreibt, wie man seinem Leben Sinn und Freude geben kann. Es geht dabei nicht um Großes und Außergewöhnliches, sondern es können kleine und alltägliche Dinge sein, für die es sich aber lohnt, morgens aufzustehen.**********An dieser Stelle findet ihr die Übung:00:26:52 - Meditation mit Main Huong Nguyen, um das eigene Ikigai zu finden**********Quellen aus der Folge:Hajek, A., Imai, T., Zwar, L., & König, H. H. (2024). Translation and Validation of the German Version of the Ikigai-9. Societies, 14(3), 39. Okuzono, S. S., Shiba, K., Kim, E. S., Shirai, K., Kondo, N., Fujiwara, T., ... & VanderWeele, T. J. (2022). Ikigai and subsequent health and wellbeing among Japanese older adults: Longitudinal outcome-wide analysis. The Lancet Regional Health–Western Pacific, 21. Wilkes, J., Garip, G., Kotera, Y., & Fido, D. (2023). Can Ikigai predict anxiety, depression, and well-being?. International Journal of Mental Health and Addiction, 21(5), 2941-2953. **********Dianes und Main Huongs Empfehlungen:Mogi, K. (2018). Ikigai: die japanische Lebenskunst (Vol. 1). DuMont Buchverlag. **********Mehr zum Thema bei Deutschlandfunk Nova:Gehirnforschung: In den Flow kommen: Das Ziel muss messbar und erreichbar seinGesunder Schlaf: Lebenssinn lässt uns besser schlafenInhale, exhale: Warum Atmen mehr ist als Luftholen**********Den Artikel zum Stück findet ihr hier.**********Ihr könnt uns auch auf diesen Kanälen folgen: Tiktok und Instagram.**********Ihr habt Anregungen, Ideen, Themenwünsche? Dann schreibt uns gern unter achtsam@deutschlandfunknova.de

Welcome to Cryptic Soup, your after-dark podcast filled with nightmares that haunt the daylight. From murders, to crimes, to cryptids, to anything in between, you can learn about what might be going bump in the night. In this week's episode, join Thena and Kylee to discuss the abduction of Yoshiro Fujiwara back in April of 1974. He claimed some creatures had taken him multiple times to learn more about the human race and make him an important figure in human-alien relations for the future. Not to mention the superpowers they granted him. Our sources for this weeks episodes: https://www.cryptopia.us/site/2018/11/kitami-abductors-japan/ https://moonlightlore.libsyn.com/abduction-in-kitami https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=I8GHWO4VISQ https://paranormal-strange.fandom.com/wiki/Kitami_Abductors 

Jason Evans of SilverShark Media speaks to Daryl Fujiwara, event coordinator for a number of events on Maui including the upcoming Nā Kamehameha Commemorative Pā‘ū Parade and Ho‘olaule‘a on June 15th.  In this podcast Daryl talks about how he grew up attending and supporting local events across the island, how he began helping to plan and coordinate events, the importance of collaboration in event planning, what went into planning for the 2024 King Kamehameha Day Parade, how the location this year was selected, how this year will be different, what types of applications the parade is looking at for participants, the upcoming Maui Ag Fest on June 1st, the return of Wailuku First Friday's in July, and the Festivals of Aloha later this year.  

Host Raj Sundar interviews Theresa Fujiwara, co-founder of the Asian Counseling and Referral Service (ACRS). They discuss the grassroots origins of ACRS and its pivotal role in providing culturally responsive mental health care to the Asian Pacific Islander community, filling a void left by national institutions. They also discuss the organization's approach, which blends Eastern and Western medicine, and the significance of community engagement in healing from trauma. The episode also explores the challenges of addressing stigma, language barriers, and diverse needs in mental health care while emphasizing the importance of integrated support and the role of community-based solutions. Find all of our network podcasts on your favorite podcast platforms and be sure to subscribe and like us. Learn more at www.healthcarenowradio.com/listen/

On observe, notamment du fait du réchauffement climatique, la formation de cyclones et d'ouragans de plus en plus nombreux. Ces phénomènes climatiques ont leurs lois propres, mais ils ont aussi un comportement particulier quand ils se rapprochent l'un de l'autre.Ces mouvements ont été étudiés, dès le début des années 1920, par un météorologue japonais, Sakuhei Fujiwhara, qui étudiait les tourbillons. C'est en examinant leurs évolutions dans un bassin que le scientifique a compris comment se comportaient deux tourbillons voisins.En référence à ces travaux, on a dès lors donné le nom d'"effet Fujiwhara", ou "Fujiwara", aux interactions entre deux cyclones proches. La théorie est donc bien connue depuis des décennies, mais on n'a vraiment pu la vérifier, à partir des années 1960, que grâce aux observations des satellites.Le comportement de chaque cyclone dépend en partie de son importance. Quand deux cyclones de taille équivalente se rencontrent, ils se mettent à tourner autour d'un point situé entre eux. Ils forment alors un ensemble binaire et se comportent un peu comme deux satellites en orbite autour d'une planète.La position de ce point de gravité, appelé "barycentre", dépend en partie de l'intensité des cyclones concernés.Puis, après avoir évolué ainsi un certain temps, les deux cyclones finissent souvent par fusionner pour n'en former qu'un seul. Né des deux systèmes, ce nouveau cyclone adopte, en principe, un nouveau trajet. Mais, après avoir dansé ensemble un certain temps, les deux cyclones peuvent aussi se séparer et reprendre chacun leur chemin.Ce phénomène est plus manifeste quand les deux cyclones sont assez intenses et qu'ils sont distants de moins de 1.400 kilomètres environ.Si l'un des cyclones est plus important que celui dont il se rapproche, il finit par attirer ce dernier. Le plus petit cyclone tourne alors autour du plus volumineux.Cet effet Fujiwhara est assez rare, surtout dans l'Atlantique. Il est un peu plus fréquent dans le Pacifique, surtout dans sa partie nord-ouest, où, de toute façon, les cyclones et tempêtes tropicales sont plus nombreux. Hébergé par Acast. Visitez acast.com/privacy pour plus d'informations.

On observe, notamment du fait du réchauffement climatique, la formation de cyclones et d'ouragans de plus en plus nombreux. Ces phénomènes climatiques ont leurs lois propres, mais ils ont aussi un comportement particulier quand ils se rapprochent l'un de l'autre. Ces mouvements ont été étudiés, dès le début des années 1920, par un météorologue japonais, Sakuhei Fujiwhara, qui étudiait les tourbillons. C'est en examinant leurs évolutions dans un bassin que le scientifique a compris comment se comportaient deux tourbillons voisins. En référence à ces travaux, on a dès lors donné le nom d'"effet Fujiwhara", ou "Fujiwara", aux interactions entre deux cyclones proches. La théorie est donc bien connue depuis des décennies, mais on n'a vraiment pu la vérifier, à partir des années 1960, que grâce aux observations des satellites. Le comportement de chaque cyclone dépend en partie de son importance. Quand deux cyclones de taille équivalente se rencontrent, ils se mettent à tourner autour d'un point situé entre eux. Ils forment alors un ensemble binaire et se comportent un peu comme deux satellites en orbite autour d'une planète. La position de ce point de gravité, appelé "barycentre", dépend en partie de l'intensité des cyclones concernés. Puis, après avoir évolué ainsi un certain temps, les deux cyclones finissent souvent par fusionner pour n'en former qu'un seul. Né des deux systèmes, ce nouveau cyclone adopte, en principe, un nouveau trajet. Mais, après avoir dansé ensemble un certain temps, les deux cyclones peuvent aussi se séparer et reprendre chacun leur chemin. Ce phénomène est plus manifeste quand les deux cyclones sont assez intenses et qu'ils sont distants de moins de 1.400 kilomètres environ. Si l'un des cyclones est plus important que celui dont il se rapproche, il finit par attirer ce dernier. Le plus petit cyclone tourne alors autour du plus volumineux. Cet effet Fujiwhara est assez rare, surtout dans l'Atlantique. Il est un peu plus fréquent dans le Pacifique, surtout dans sa partie nord-ouest, où, de toute façon, les cyclones et tempêtes tropicales sont plus nombreux. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Welcome to another bonus episode, where we take a break from the main narrative and discuss some of the modern locations where this happened.  In this case, I'm talking about a trip I took around the Nara Basin, specifically focusing on the area of Asuka, where the Asuka Period gets its name. We will have some photos of the places and things I mention this episode up on the podcast website: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-nara-part2 Rough Transcript   Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan!  My name is Joshua and this is Traveling Through the Nara Basin, Part II This episode, I'd like to pause in our narrative to take you on a journey through the modern landscape of Asuka.  This is a continuation from episode I did last year covering travels around the southeastern edge of the Nara Basin, from Tenri down to Miwa.  I'm going to skip over some of the sites in Kashihara—we may save that for a discussion of the Fujiwara palace that was there—and head straight to Asuka. Standing at the southern end of Asuka, at the site of the ruins of the Itabuki palace, looking north, with the hills at your back the view is rather bucolic.  Between the hills on either side of the valley, one can see rice fields spreading out.  Along the western edge, the narrow  Asuka-gawa winds along the base of the hills on its way north, joining with the Yamato river in the heart of the Nara Plain, far from view.  Along the eastern hills are various houses, heading out to a cluster around the current precincts of Asukadera. It is a far cry from the ancient capital it once was.  The large mansions and palaces that once filled the landscape are gone, their traces often lying beneath the rice paddies.  Amongst the hills, ancient tumuli still look down over the valley below, some with their contents ripped open—whether by man or nature—for all to see.  At the end of the Asuka period, the capital would move—first just a short hop away to the plains of Kashihara, to the north, but eventually up to Heijo-kyo, in modern Nara city.  A century later the capital would move north, settling in Heian-kyo, aka modern Kyoto city. Asuka, in turn, remained largely untouched by the urbanization that would take place in many of the large cities.  As the capital moved farther away—to Kashihara, then Nara, then Kyoto—Asuka was left behind.  The temples and buildings succumbed to time, and no great settlement sprung up in its place.  There were castles built on strategic hills by local lords, but much of the land remained rural Asuka would never be quite the same, a fact that would be of some relief to archaeologists and students of history in later centuries.  The lack of urbanization meant that traces of those ancient times—at least those underneath the layers of soil overturned by farming—do remain. Asuka is believed to have been a stronghold for the powerful Soga clan.  By rising through the ranks, marrying into the royal family, and supporting the winning side in various succession crises—not to mention their ties to the exotic Buddhist religion—they were able to make themselves into the most powerful family in Yamato, second only to the sovereign, and their stronghold of Asuka became the site of the palace building for at least four sovereigns.  It was also the home to some of the first permanent Buddhist temples, so it is the stage for much of what plays out in the late 6th to 7th centuries. For anyone planning a visit, the first thing you should know is that Asuka is still quite rural.  There are a few train lines that you can take nearby—the Kintetsu line Asuka station is probably the closest for most things, but since I was also visiting the Fujiwara palace ruins I rode into Kaguyama station on the JR line early in the morning. And so I entered Asuka from the north, passing by Kaguyama, one of the three sacred mountains of Kashihara.  Near Ikatsuchi, I followed a small road that cut across rice paddies just north of the presumed site of Kashikiya Hime's Oharida palace.  This is the palace she moved to in the latter part of her reign, giving over the site of Toyoura, to the southwest, for a nunnery. Making my way through the open rice paddies, I reached a small neighborhood on the other side.  The buildings were a mix of new and old, but nothing quite as old as what I was looking for.  I continued on, making my way to the Asuka Historical Museum.  This is an excellent museum for anyone interested in the area, with examinations of various temple ruins, kofun, and more.  Outside, there are numerous copies of the various stone figures that dot the landscape here in Asuka, such as the Saruishi, or Monkey stones. These stones are a bit enigmatic.  There is no clear relationship between the origin of most of the stones and any particular event that I could see in the Nihon Shoki or elsewhere.  The saruishi were discovered by farmers in their fields in 1702, near Umeyama kofun, and eventually moved to their current location at the site of Kibi Hime's tomb, outside of the giant keyhole shaped tomb for Amekunioshi, aka Kinmei Tennou.   They are called “monkey” stones, or Saru-ishi, because people thought they resembled monkeys, but in truth they are probably just carvings meant to represent people.  Scholars believe that they probably date back to the latter half of the 7th century, and may have been carved by immigrant Baekje artisans, based on their similarity to statues found on the Korean peninsula, but this is all conjecture.  The originals are viewable from behind a fence, but at the Asuka Historical Museum you can get up close and personal to them and really see the details—at least what hasn't eroded away. There is also the Kameishi, or turtle stone, which you can go see, but which also has a replica at the museum.  There are stories about this giant stone, carved to look like a turtle, but its exact purpose is unknown. There are also reconstructions of various kofun stone chambers, so you can see what is inside some of the large mounds, as well as stone fountains and water works, demonstrating not just the skill of the artisans of that era, but also their ability to harness the flow of water back in that time. Inside, much of the information in the museum is in Japanese, but there are English descriptions of artifacts and some contextualization, but if you don't read Japanese and are interested in what they have to say about the palace and temple ruins then a translation app is your friend.  In fact, it is generally recommended for any travel where you may be in need of translation, these days. Inside the museum, they go over the layouts of some of the later palaces, especially the Okamoto, Itabuki, and Kiyomihara palace sites, for which at least the inner court area is fairly well defined.  They also take a look at temple structures and the various continental influences, as well as a reconstruction of a water clock described by the Nihon Shoki during the reign of the sovereign known as Saimei Tennou—rest assured we will talk more about that at a later date. They also have a good look at the inside of the Kitora tomb's burial chamber, recreated for you.  The Kitora kofun and the Takamatsuzuka kofun are two of the most famous kofun in the area, but not necessarily for who was buried there.  Both of them have been opened, and inside it wasn't just grave goods, but they found painted chambers.  In the Kitora kofun we find the directional guardian animals.  These are four mythical beasts that represented North, South, East, and West, and they were Genbu, the Black Turtle of the North; Suzaku, the Red Bird of the South; Seiryuu, the Blue—or Green—Dragon of the East; and Byakkou, the White Tiger of the West.  In this case, since the tomb was opened from the south, only three of the paintings were visible, and the east and west walls were not in great shape, but it was still legible.  They are doing their best to preserve these paintings, and the museum only has copies, but it still helps to understand the time period.  The burial probably took place in the 7th or 8th century, and has been suggested that it was a high ranking noble or royal prince—or possibly even a high ranking person from the continent. Takamatsuzuka, on the other hand, has even more detailed murals from the late 7th or early 8th century.  The murals include the directional animals, but also pictures of courtiers dressed in the continental fashion.  The murals resemble those found in Goguryeo, and again, there are still many questions about just who was buried there.  Both the Kitora and Takamatsuzuka kofun are round kofun, and not especially large or prominent compared to some of the giant keyhole shaped kofun or previous eras, but the decoration and grave goods suggest people of status in both cases.  Also, since Takamatsuzuka gives us some of our only clothing evidence from this period, and it holds similarities to what we know of Nara and later Heian era clothing, it is often used as a key reference point when looking at the clothing and culture of this time.  The Takamatsuzuka kofun is only a short distance from the Asuka train station, but I did not visit this trip as I had been there many years prior, and I do recommend it if you get the chance.  Kitora kofun is a little more out of the way, but still doable, especially if you have more than a day to wander around the area. In addition to the tombs, the museum has a large exhibit on Asuka era temples, including a section of wooden wall from a building at nearby Yamadadera.  This section was found in 1980—apparently it had collapsed onto the ground and been covered up, as much of the wood was still preserved.  The section is dated to be even older than the oldest extant buildings of Houryuuji, and it gives a great example of the construction techniques of the time.  Since they didn't have glass windows, we see them using vertical wooden bars.  You can still see this on old style buildings and galleries, where a pole with a square cross-section will be tilted like a diamond and placed in the windows, creating a series of wooden bars that let in light, but still act as a barrier to entry.  This only really works on external walls, unless you have another kind of shutter to put over them, but it is effective.  We also have other items from the temple, including the head of a bronze Buddha statue. From what we can tell, this was another Soga family temple.  It is mentioned in the “Joguuki”, the biography of Shotoku Taishi, as well as in the Nihon Shoki. It is also a short walk from the museum, and an easy visit.  Warning, though, there isn't a lot to see on the site.  The outline of the temple and the various buildings is visible, and you can see how they lined up and get a sense of the approach, but it is fairly sparse.  There is a modern temple on the site—Yamadaji, or, read another way, Yamadadera.  It is not nearly as grand as the original, and is more like a rural, neighborhood temple.  During the Asuka period, Yamadadera likely attracted attention from far and wide as one of the chief temples of the capital. Speaking of temples, I next turned back down the road and headed towards Asukadera.  On the way isare the  Ishigami site an theand Mizuochi sites, next to the Asuka district    Exhibition Room of Archaeological Cultural Assets.  The Ishigami site is a section of the stone pathways near an ancient guesthouse.  Nearby is the Mizuochi site, which has been speculated to be the site of the water clock I mentioned earlier.  There was a moat for catching and holding water, as well as various pipes for getting the water up to the clock.  The clock itself contained several different buckets at different levels, so that a hole poked in the top bucket drained into the one below and then the one below that.  The idea was that the water would flow at a fairly constant rate, and that could be used to tell the time.  At the bottom was a float with an image of an official who held a ruler.  The ruler would rise with the float and thus indicate the time.  This was a great innovation as it would work even when the sun was not out, but it would need to be reset each day at a specific time to ensure that it was accurate. As for the nearby Exhibition Room—it is free, and so worth a look around.  Much of what is there is the same as the Asuka Historical Museum, but there are a few differences.  It is only a single room, so an easy in and out, and you can grab a bite or something to drink before you head on, so worth the stop if you are passing by, but if you are short on time you could easily give it a miss, as well. Continuing up the valley, to the south, I next stopped at Asukadera.  I approached from the west, though the parking lot and main entrance is to the east.  At the western edge there was a memorial for the Soga family members—more on that as we get back to the episodes.  You can also see where the gates and walls used to be, though now the temple itself is much reduced.  You no longer have the original footprint of the temple—when the capital moved to Heijo-kyo, the temple formally moved as well.  It was rebuilt in Heijo-kyo as Gankouji, but it wasn't like they could just move all the buildings—though that was sometimes done.  Over time things were dilapidated or destroyed by fire, and Asukadera itself shrank.  They did find and preserve the giant Buddha statue believed to have been installed in the reign of Kashikiya Hime, though the statue had been repaired extensively, such that only parts of the statue are thought to be original.  You can come into the worship hall for a fee and the monks there will tell you the history of that and other images at the temple—in Japanese, of course—and you are allowed to take pictures. While the temple is reduced, it is still an incredible experience to stand there and imagine what it once was.  In addition, you can look up the valley and picture the ancient palaces that once stood there as well. And that was my next stop.  I headed up the roads towards the ancient palace sites.  I noticed that there was some work going on near the Itabuki Palace site, and so I headed over that way.  This means I did skip the Nara Prefectural Complex of Man'yo Culture, which looks to have some excellent depictions of life during Asuka and Nara periods, focusing on the period of the Man'yoshu, the book of ten thousand leaves, our earliest collection of Japanese language poetry written with “man'yogana”—sinitic characters used primarily for their sound to represent the Japanese language of that era.  This is only one of many reasons that I will be returning to Asuka on a future visit. Still, I only had so much time in the day, and so I wandered over the old palace sites.  There was an excavation underway, and I admit I still need to look into if there was a site report for the work—this was in November of 2022.  I don't know if there were any major changes in our understanding at the time, but always great to see people in the field doing the work that helps us map and understand the past.  While Tthere is a small rest area there, but you should be aware that after excavation, the site has largely been covered back up.  There is a small display on the eastern side of the valley where you can see some post holes, but largely you have to use your imagination to see the palace and where it was.  I still just like to be there and experience the site and get an idea for even just the topography of the place, which I really believe puts things in perspective. From the Asuka palace site, I headed up the road and a little bit into the hills to see Ishibutai kofun.  This is a famous kofun and is extremely impressive in its presentation, despite the fact that it has no grave goods and we don't really know who was buried there.  You see, though it was apparently a square shaped kofun, all of that dirt has been removed—likely by erosion or other factors—but that means that the stone chamber inside has been exposed.  With that you can see the enormous stones that people moved into place to create the burial chamber.  This was not a simple matter of making a brick enclosure, but rather it was massive boulders that were found and placed in such a way that I'm sure the builders of the pyramids or Stonehenge would have appreciated.  As it was open to the elements, anything that was inside was either stolen or rotted away, but it is still impressive to see the construction.  It is thought that this may have been the tomb of none other than Soga no Umako, that powerful Oho-omi that lead the Soga family to greatness, and some have suggested that with the Soga's downfall, that could explain why the earth was removed from the tomb in the first place, to disgrace him and his family. From Ishibutai, I headed west, taking the road between Tachibana dera and the ruins of Kawara dera.  We don't know exactly when they were founded, but it was likely in the 7th century.  Tachibana dera claims to have been founded by Shotoku Taishi, and is said to have been built on the site of his birthplace.  What we know is that it was mentioned in the Nihon Shoki by about 680, and it appears to have been a nunnery.  To the north is the site of Kawara dera, and you can see the ruins in the field around the current temple of Gufukuji, which was established there after Kawara dera itself had fallen to ruin.  Kawara dera and Tachibana dera may have been built as a pair of temples, and rooftiles have been found at each site that appear to be of a similar age. However, neither temple has any of the original buildings left.  There are some ancient stone statues, however: a stone with two people carved into it, facing away from each other, and, nearby, the Kameishi, or turtle stone, which some claim marked a boundary point between the two temples.  That isn't to say that the current temples don't have anything worth seeing, and if I had more time I would have definitely looked into it, but I had my sights set a bit farther afield, because continuing down the road will take you to several notable kofun. First off is the kofun of Temmu and his wife Jitou—I'll stick with the regnal names for now, as they haven't really come up in our story, but we'll definitely have a lot to talk about when we get there.  This is an octagonal kofun, likely representing Buddhist influence and the importance of the number “eight” at the same time that kofun themselves were starting to fall out of fashion.  The shape isn't easy to make out, given that it is overgrown with trees and other vegetation, and you aren't allowed on the kofun itself.  Still, it is something to visit it and give some thought to history. Next along the path, following a trail that cuts along the hillside, is the Demon's Cutting Board and the Demon's Toilet.  Yeah, you heard that right.  These are two large stones, one up on the hill, and one a little farther down.  A local story tells of an oni—a demon or ogre—that would catch passersby and eat them.  The oni would chop them up on their cutting board, the Oni no Manaita, and would then relieve himself in the toilet, the Oni no Setchin.  In reality, they appear to be two parts of a stone chamber for a kofun that was likely on top of the hill, but which was dug up or the top eroded away and then the top portion, the “Setchin” stone, fell down, possibly due to some kind of local event—a landslide or earthquake, or something similar.  Needless to say, there is nothing left of the grave other than these two giant stones, with any goods having long been taken. Continuing on along the path past that is the giant keyhole shaped kofun designated as that of Kinmei Tennou, aka Ame Kunioshi Hiraki Hiro Niwa.  The tomb is large, and impressive, and a good example of the kind of royal tomb that was the norm up to that point.  Perhaps more intriguing is something I mentioned, earlier, because there are satellite kofun nearby.  Satellite kofun are often assumed to be people related to the main kofun in some way—it could be family members, consorts, or even special courtiers who served them well.  In this case, the tomb has been identified as that of Kibi Hime, and, unrelated to that as far as we can tell, it has become the home of the saruishi, the monkey stones I mentioned earlier.  They are behind a barrier, so you can't get too close, but it is neat to see them there, bearing silent witness to an age long past. At that point, the sun was setting behind the mountains.  I followed the road back to the Asuka train station and from there headed on to my next destination.  I left nearby Takamatsuzuka, which, as I said, I had seen on a previous trip, as well as many other sights.  After all, just to the west is Katsuraki, and to the north is Kashihara, which is not only home to Temmu's Fujiwara capital, but also to the three sacred mountains and numerous other kofun dotting the landscape.  Farther north still and you can visit Houryuuji Temple, and the nearby Chuuguuji temple, both of which have treasures from the Asuka and Nara periods, including the oldest extant wooden buildings in the world.  I highly recommend it. There is also more to explore.  There are old castle ruins—mostly just earthworks—and other temples and buildings from ages to come after the Asuka period.  While it was never exactly built up, that doesn't mean that Asuka remained completely untouched throughout the centuries. I'll put up some photos on the podcast webpage so that you can see things for yourself, and I hope that one day you all get a chance to visit Asuka.  It truly is a beautiful place, nestled amongst the hills and looking out into the Nara Basin.  There is a feeling as if, despite the roads and modern vehicles, time still moves a bit slower there.  And though the ancient buildings that once marked the capital of Yamato are no longer there, the traces and their presence can still be felt. Next episode we'll get back into the narrative.  I want to dive a little deeper into what was going on over on the continent before we start to unravel everything happening in Yamato, as the Tang dynasty had come to power, and it was just beginning a period that would come to be known as its golden age.  Until then, thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, 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 Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or 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 her 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.

Mark Fujiwara can trace his first failure back to grade school.But there's no arguing with his success as a financial planner today.Still, as a burgeoning spokesperson for mental health struggles of entrepreneurs, he's as open about failing his way to success as anyone could be.In this episode, we get into breaking generational cycles, holding onto things for 47 years, living up to parents' expectations, talking to your kids about taking medication and so much more.For more info, go to www.failyourway.com.

Next Step: Visit our website, Healthcare for Humans, and join our community to enjoy exclusive benefits at https://www.healthcareforhumans.org/support/ Earn CME Credits: Clinicians, enhance your learning by earning valuable continuing education credits while listening. Utilize your CME funds to join our community. Support Our Mission: Non-clinicians, explore exclusive content and contribute to our collective journey. Be an Active Participant: Go beyond listening. Shape our narrative by co-creating episodes with us. Be part of our community by visiting https://www.healthcareforhumans.org/support/. Follow us on Instagram @healthcareforhumanspodcast Summary: On this episode, we interview Theresa Fujiwara, co-founder of the Asian Counseling and Referral Service (ACRS). We discuss the grassroots origins of ACRS and its pivotal role in providing culturally responsive mental health care to the Asian Pacific Islander community, filling a void left by national institutions. We then talk about the organization's approach, which blends Eastern and Western medicine, and the significance of community engagement in healing from trauma. The episode also explores the challenges of addressing stigma, language barriers, and diverse needs in mental health care while emphasizing the importance of integrated support and the role of community-based solutions. Timestamped Overview: 05:46 Learning about Japanese American incarceration, becoming an activist 12:45 International Community Health Services, International Examiner, and ACRS celebrate 50 years. 19:20 Holistic approach to mental health treatments. 23:23 Ensuring trust, support, and interpretation for clients. 26:21 Difficulty creating a pipeline for mental health workers. 28:33 Communities organize around church, club, and assistance. 31:58 Gathering should have a purpose and healing.

It's the last episode of 2023, and our 100th episode!  But despite that, we keep on moving through the period, hitting a bunch of smaller stories from the Nihon Shoki about this period. We talk about Zentoku no Omi, the temple commissioner of Hokoji, as well as the trouble they went through to get the Asukadera Daibutsu in place to begin with.  We have the first instance of the Dazai--as in the Dazaifu of Kyushu--as well as the first instance of the holiday that would eventually become Children's Day, Kodomo no Hi.  There are various immigrants, bringing painting, handmills, and even a new kind of musical dance theater known as gigaku.  And that's just some of what we'll cover. For more, check out our website at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-100 Rough Transcript   Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is episode 100: Sacred Tetris and Other Tidbits First off:  woohoo!  One hundred episodes!  Thank you to everyone who has been listening and following along on this journey so far.  When I started this I had no idea how long I would be able to keep up with it, but I appreciate everyone who has encouraged me along the way.  This all started in September of 2019, and we are now four years in and we have a ways to go.  While I'm thanking people, I'd also like to give a big thank you to my wife, Ellen, who has been helping me behind the scenes.  She's the one who typically helps read through what I'm going to say and helps edit out a lot of things, and provides reminders of things that I sometimes forget.  She really helps to keep me on track, and I always appreciate the time she puts into helping to edit the scripts and the questions she asks. Now, we are still talking about the 6th and early 7th centuries during the reign of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tenno.  We've talked about a lot of different aspects of this period—about the conflicts over Nimna on the peninsula, about the rise of the Sui dynasty on the continent, and the importation of various continental goods, including animals, immigrants, and knowledge.  That knowledge included new ideas about governance as well as religious practices such as Buddhism—and possibly other religious practices as well, as many of the stories that we saw in the Age of the Gods may have analogs on the continent and may just as easily have been coming over with the current crop of immigrants, though it is hard to say for certain.  At the heart of these changes are three individuals.  Obviously there is Kashikiya Hime, on the throne through a rather intricate and bloody series of events.  Then there is Soga no Umako, her maternal uncle, who has been helping to keep the Soga family on top.  And of course, the subject of our last couple episodes, Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi.  He, of course, is credited with the very founding of the Japanese state through the 17 article constitution and the promulgation of Buddhism. This episode, I'd like to tackle some of the little things.  Some of the stories that maybe didn't make it into other episodes up to this point.  For this, we'll mostly look at it in a chronological fashion, more or less. As you may recall, Kashikiya Hime came to the throne in about 593, ruling in the palace of Toyoura.  This was around the time that the pagoda was erected at Houkouji temple—and about the time that we are told that Shitennouji temple was erected as well.  Kashikiya Home made Umayado the Crown Prince, despite having a son of her own, as we'd mentioned previously, and then, in 594, she told Umayado and Umako to start to promulgate Buddhism, kicking off a temple building craze that would sweep the nation—or at least the areas ruled by the elites of Yamato. By 596, Houkouji was finished and, in a detail I don't think we touched on when talking about Asukadera back in episode 97, they appointed as commissioner one Zentoku no Omi—or possibly Zentoko, in one reading I found.  This is a curious name, since “Zentoku” comes across as a decidedly Buddhist name, and they really liked to use the character “Zen”, it feels like, at this time.  In fact, it is the same name that the nun, the daughter of Ohotomo no Sadehiko no Muraji, took, though the narrative is very clear about gender in both instances, despite them having the exact same Buddhist names.  This name isn't exactly unique, however, and it is also the name recorded for the Silla ruler, Queen Seondeok, whose name uses the same two characters, so it is possible that at this time it was a popular name—or perhaps people just weren't in the mood to get too creative, yet. However, what is particularly interesting to me, is that the name “Zentoku” is then followed by the kabane of “Omi”.  As you may recall from Episode XX, a kabane is a level of rank, but associated with an entire family or lineage group rather than an individual.  So while there are times where we have seen “personal name” + “kabane” in the past, there is usually a surname somewhere in there.  In this case, we aren't told the surname, but we know it because we are given the name of Zentoku's father: we are told that he was the son of none other than the “Oho-omi”, the Great Omi, aka Soga no Umako.  So, in summary, one of Soga no Umako's sons took the tonsure and became a monk. I bring this little tidbit up because there is something that seems very odd to me and, at the same time, very aristocratic, about taking vows, retiring from the world, and yet still being known by your family's title of rank. Often monks are depicted as outside of the civil rank and status system—though there were certainly ranks and titles within the priesthood.  I wonder if it read as strange to the 8th century readers, looking back on this period.  It certainly seems to illustrate quite clearly how Buddhism at this point was a tool of the elite families, and not a grass-roots movements among the common people. This also further strengthens the idea that Houkouji was the temple of the Soga—and specifically Soga no Umako.  Sure, as a Soga descendant, Prince Umayado may have had some hand in it, but in the end it was the head of the Soga family who was running the show, and so he appoints one of his own sons as the chief commissioner of the temple.  They aren't even trying to hide the connection.  In fact, having one of his sons “retire” and start making merit through Buddhist practice was probably a great PR move, overall. We don't hear much more from Zentoku after this point, and we really know very little about him.  We do know something about the Soga family, and we know that Soga no Umako has at least one other son.  While we've yet to see him in the narrative—children in the Nihon Shoki are often meant to be neither seen nor heard, it would seem—Umako's other son is known to us as Soga no Emishi.  Based on when we believe Soga no Emishi was born, however, he would have been a child, still, when all this was happening, and so Zentoku may have actually been his father's eldest son, taking the reins at Houkouji temple, likely setting him up to claim a role of spiritual leadership in the new religion of Buddhism.  Compare this to what we see later, and also in other places, such as Europe, where it is often the second son that is sent into religious life, while the eldest son—the heir—is kept at hand to succeed the father in case anything happens.  On the other hand, I am unsure if the monks of this time had any sort of celibacy that was expected of them, and I suspect that even as the temple commissioner, the tera no Tsukasa, Zentoku was keeping his hand in.  After all, the Soga family head appears to have been staying near the temple as well, so it isn't like they were packing him off to the high mountains. Moving on, in 601 we are told that Kashikiya Hime was in a temporary palace at a place called Miminashi, when heavy rains came and flooded the palace site.  This seems to be referring to flooding of Toyoura palace, which was, we believe, next to the Asuka river.  I wonder, then, if that wasn't the impetus for, two years later, in 603, moving the palace to Woharida, and leaving the old palace buildings to become a nunnery.  That Woharida palace is not thought to have been very far away—traditionally just a little ways north or possibly across the river. In 604, with the court operating out of the new Woharida palace, we see the institution of more continental style traditions.  It includes the idea of bowing when you entered or left the palace grounds—going so far as to get on your hands and knees for the bow.  Even today, it is customary to bow when entering a room—particularly a traditional room like in a dojo or similar—and it is also customary to bow when passing through a torii gate, entering into a sacred space.  Of course, that is often just a standing bow from the waist, and not a full bow from a seated position. In 605, with more continental culture being imported, we see it affecting fashion.  In fact, in this year we are told that Prince Umayado commanded all the ministers to wear the “hirami”.  The kanji simply translates to “pleats”, but in clothing terms this refers to a pleated skirt or apron.  We see examples of this in courtly clothing going back to at least the Han dynasty, if not earlier, typically tied high above the waist and falling all the way down so that only the tips of the shoes are poking out from underneath.  We have a bit more on this in the historical clothing section of the Sengoku Daimyo website, sengokudaimyo.com.   I wonder if these wrapped skirts aren't some of what we see in the embroidered Tenjukoku mandala of Chuuguuji.  Court women would continue to wear some kind of pleated skirt-like garment, which would become the mo, though for men they would largely abandon the fashion, except for some very specific ritual outfits.  That said, there is still an outfit used for some imperial ceremonies.  It is red, with many continental and what some might consider Taoist symbols, such as dragons, the sun and moon, etc..  That continuation of tradition gives us some idea of what this was and what it may have looked like back in the day.  It is also very neat that we are starting to get specific pieces of potentially identifiable clothing information, even if it is only for the court nobles. The year following that, 606, we get the giant Buddha image being installed at Houkouji, aka Asukadera.  Or at least, we think that is the one they are talking about, as we can't be one hundred percent certain.  However, it is traditionally thought to be one and the same.  The copper and gold image was commissioned a year prior, along with an embroidered image as well, but when they went to install it they ran into a slight problem:  The statue was too large to fit through the doors of the kondo, the golden image hall.  No doubt that caused some embarrassment—it is like ordering furniture that won't fit through the doorway, no matter how you and your friends try to maneuver it around.  They were thinking they would have to cut through the doors of the kondo to create more room, and then fix it afterwards.  Nobody really wanted to do that thought—whether because they thought it would damage the structural integrity of the building or they just didn't want to have to put up with an unsightly scar, it isn't clear.  Finally, before they took such extreme measures, they called on the original artist, Kuratsukuri no Tori.  He is said to be the son of the famous Shiba Tattou, and so his family was quite close with the Soga, and he seems to have had quite the eye for geometry as we are told that he, “by way of skill”, was able to get it through the doors and into the hall.  I don't know if that meant he had to some how turn it on its side and walk it through, or something else, but whatever it was, it worked.  Tori's mad Tetris skills worked, and they were able to install the giant Buddha in the hall without cutting through the doorways. For his efforts, Tori was rewarded, and he was raised up to the rank of Dainin, one of the 12 new ranks of the court.  He was also given 20 cho worth of “water fields”—likely meaning rice paddies.  With the income from those fields, we are told that he invested in a temple of his own:  Kongoji, later known as the nunnery of Sakata in Minabuchi. For all that Buddhism was on the rise, the worship of the kami was still going strong as well.  In 607 we are told that there was an edict that everyone should worship the kami of heaven and earth, and we are told that all of the noble families complied.  I would note that Aston wonders about this entry, as the phrasing looks like something you could have taken right out of continental records, but at the same time, it likely reflects reality to some extent.  It is hard to see the court just completely giving up on the traditional kami worship, which would continue to be an important part of court ritual.  In fact, it is still unclear just how the new religion of Buddhism was viewed, and how much people understood the Buddha to be anything more than just another type of kami. Later in that same year was the mission to the Sui court, which we discussed in Episode 96.  The year after, the mission returned to Yamato with Sui ambassadors, and then, in 609, those ambassadors returned to the Sui court.  These were the missions of that infamous letter, where the Yamato court addressed the Sui Emperor as an equal.  “From the child of heaven in the land where the sun rises to the child of heaven in the land where the sun sets.”  It is still one of my favorite little pieces of history, and I constantly wonder if Yamato didn't understand the difference in scale or if they just didn't care.  Either way, some really powerful vibes coming off that whole thing. That same year that the Sui ambassadors were going back to their court there was another engagement with foreigners.  In this case the official on the island of Tsukushi, aka Kyuushuu, reported to the Yamato court that 2 priests from Baekje, along with 10 other priests  and 75 laypersons had anchored in the harbor of Ashigita, in the land of Higo, which is to say the land of Hi that was farther from Yamato, on the western side of Kyuushuu.  Ashigita, you may recall, came up in Episode 89 in reference to the Baekje monk—and I use that term loosely—Nichira, aka Illa.  There, Nichira was said to descend from the lord of Ashigita, who was said to be Arisateung, a name which appears to be a Korean—possibly Baekje—title.  So now we have a Baekje ship harboring in a land that once was ruled by a family identified, at least in their names or titles, as having come from or at least having ties with Baekje.  This isn't entirely surprising, as it wouldn't have taken all that much effort for people to cross from one side to the other, and particularly during the period before there was a truly strong central government it is easy to see that there may have been lands in the archipelago that had ties to Baekje, just as we believe there were some lands on the peninsula that had ties to Yamato. One more note before get to the heart of the matter is the title of the person who reported all these Baekje goings-on.  Aston translates the title as the Viceroy of Tsukushi, and the kanji read “Dazai”, as in the “Dazaifu”, or government of the “Dazai”.  There is kana that translates the title as Oho-mikoto-Mochi—the Great August Thing Holder, per Aston, who takes this as a translation, rather than a strict transliteration.  This is the first time that this term, “Dazai” has popped up in the history, and it will appear more and more in the future.  We know that, at least later, the Dazaifu was the Yamato court's representative government in Kyuushuu.  The position wasn't new - it goes back to the various military governors sent there in previous reigns - but this is the first time that specific phrasing is used—and unfortunately we don't even know much about who it was referring to.  The position, however, would become an important part of the Yamato governing apparatus, as it provided an extension of the court's power over Kyuushuu, which could otherwise have easily fallen under the sway of others, much as Iwai tried to do when he tried to ally with Silla and take Tsukushi by force.  Given the importance of Kyuushuu as the entrypoint to the archipelago, it was in the Court's best interest to keep it under their control. Getting back to the ship with the Baekje priests on it:  the passengers claimed they were on their way to Wu, or Kure—presumably headed to the Yangzi river region.  Given the number of Buddhist monasteries in the hills around the Yangzi river, it is quite believable, though of course by this time the Wu dynasty was long gone.  What they had not prepared for was the new Sui dynasty, as they said there was a civil war of some kind going on, and so they couldn't land and were subsequently blown off course in a storm, eventually limping along to Ashigita harbor, where they presumably undertook rest and a chance to repair their vessels.  It is unclear to me exactly what civil war they were referring to, and it may have just been a local conflict.  There would be rebellions south of the Yangzi river a few years later, but no indication that it was this, just a bit out of context.  We know that the Sui dynasty suffered—it wouldn't last another decade before being dismantled and replaced by the Tang dynasty in about 618.  There were also ongoing conflicts with Goguryeo and even the area of modern Vietnam, which were draining the Sui's resources and could be related to all of these issues.  If so, though, it is hard to see an exact correlation to the “civil war” mentioned in the text. Given all this, two court nobles:  Naniwa no Kishi no Tokomaro and Fumibito no Tatsu were sent to Kyuushuu to see what had happened, and, once they learned the truth, help send the visitors on their way.  However, ten of the priests asked to stay in Yamato, and they were sent to be housed at the Soga family temple of Houkouji.  As you may recall, 10 monks was the necessary number to hold a proper ordination ceremony, funnily enough. In 610, another couple of monks showed up—this time from Goguryeo.  They were actually sent, we are told, as “tribute”.  We are told that one of them was well read—specifically that he knew the Five Classics—but also that he understood how to prepare various paints and pigments.  A lot of paint and pigments were based on available materials as well as what was known at the time, and so it is understandable, to me, why you might have that as a noted and remarkable skill.  We are also told that he made mills—likely a type of handmill.  These can be easily used for helping to crush and blend medicines, but I suspect it could just as easily be used to crush the various ingredients for different pigments.  A type of handmill, where you roll a wheel in a narrow channel, forward and back, is still in use today throughout Asia. In 611, on the 5th day of the 5th month, the court went out to gather herbs.  They assembled at the pond of Fujiwara—the pond of the wisteria field—and set out at sunrise.  We are told that their clothing matched their official cap colors, which was based on their rank, so that would seem to indicate that they were dressed in their court outfits.  In this case, though, they also had hair ornaments mad of gold, leopard's tails, or birds.  That leopard's tail, assuming the description is accurate, is particularly interesting, as it would have had to have come from the continent. This ritual gathering of herbs would be repeated on the 5th day of the 5th month of both 612 and 614.  If that date seems familiar, you might be thinking of the modern holiday of Tango no Sekku, aka Kodomo no Hi.  That is to say:  Boy's Day or the more gender neutral “Children's Day”.  It is part of a series of celebrations in Japan known today as “Golden Week”, when there are so many holidays crammed together that people get roughly a week off of work, meaning that a lot of travel tends to happen in that period.  While the idea of “Boy's Day” probably doesn't come about until the Kamakura period, Tango no Sekku has long been one of the five seasonal festivals of the court, the Gosekku.  These included New Year's day; the third day of the third month, later to become the Doll Festival, or Girl's Day; the seventh day of the seventh month, during Tanabata; and the 9th day of the 9th month.  As you can see, that is 1/1, 3/3, 5/5, 7/7, and 9/9.  Interestingly, they skipped over 11/11, possibly because that was in the winter time, based on the old calendar, and people were just trying to stay warm. Early traditions of Tango no Sekku include women gathering irises to protect the home.  That could connect to the practice, here, of “picking herbs” by the court, and indeed, many people connect the origins of Tango no Sekku back to this reign specifically because of these references, though there is very little said about what they were doing, other than picking herbs in their fancy outfits. We are given a few more glimpses into the lives of the court in a few other entries.  In 612, for instance, we have a banquet thrown for the high functionaries.  This may have been a semi-regular occasion, but this particular incident was memorable for a couple of poems that were bandied back and forth between Soga no Umako and Kashikiya Hime.  He toasted her, and she responded with a toast to the sons of Soga. Later that year, they held a more somber event, as Kitashi Hime was re-interred.  She was the sister to Soga no Umako, consort of Nunakura Futodamashiki no Ohokimi, aka Kimmei Tenno, and mother to both Tachibana no Toyohi, aka Youmei Tennou, and Kashikiya Hime, Suiko Tennou.  She was re-buried with her husband at his tomb in Hinokuma.  During this period, various nobles made speeches.  Kicking the event off was Abe no Uchi no Omi no Tori, who made offerings to her spirit, including around 15,000 utensils and garments.  Then the royal princes spoke, each according to rank, but we aren't given just what they said.  After that, Nakatomi no Miyatokoro no Muraji no Womaro gave the eulogy of the Oho-omi, presumably speaking on Umako's behalf, though it isn't exactly clear why, though Umako was certainly getting on in years.  Then, Sakahibe no Omi no Marise delivered the written eulogies of the other families. And here we get an interesting glimpse into court life as we see a report that both Nakatomi no Womaro and Sakahibe no Marise apparently delivered their speeches with great aplomb, and the people listening were quite appreciative.  However, they did not look quite so fondly on the speechifying of Abe no Tori, and they said that he was less than skillful.  And consider that—if you find public speaking to be something you dread, imagine if your entire reputation hung on ensuring that every word was executed properly.  A single misstep or a bad day and suddenly you are recorded in the national history as having been just the worst.  In fact, his political career seems to have tanked, as we don't hear much more about him after that. 612 also saw more immigrants bringing more art and culture.  The first was a man from Baekje.  He did not look well—he had white circles under his eyes, we are told, possibly indicating ringworm or some other infection.  It was so bad that the people on the ship with him were thinking about putting him off on an island to fend for himself.  He protested that his looks were not contagious, and no different that the white patches of color you might see on horses or cattle.  Moreover, he had a talent for painting figures and mountains.  He drew figures of the legendary Mt. Sumeru, and of the Bridge of Wu, during the period of the Southern Courts, and the people were so taken by it that they forestalled tossing him overboard.  He was eventually known as Michiko no Takumi, though more colloquially he was known as Shikomaro, which basically was a nickname calling him ugly, because judging people based on appearance was still totally a thing. The other notable immigrant that year was also a man of Baekje, known to us as Mimachi, or perhaps Mimashi or Mimaji.  He claimed to know the music and dancing of the Wu court—or at least some continental dynasty.  He settled in Sakurawi and took on students who were basically forced to learn from him.  As if a piano teacher appeared and all the children went to learn, but now it isn't just your parents and their high expectations, but the very state telling you to do it.  So… no pressure, I'm sure.  Eventually, Manu no Obito no Deshi—whose name literally means “student” or “disciple”—and Imaki no Ayabito no Seibun learned the teachings and passed them down to others.  This would appear to be the masked dances known as Gigaku. If you know about early Japanese music and dance you may have heard of Gagaku, Bugaku, and Noh theater.  Gagaku is the courtly music, with roots in apparently indigenous Japanese music as well as various continental sources, from the Korean peninsula all the way down to Southeast Asia.  Indeed, the musical records we have in Japan are often the only remaining records of what some of the continental music of this time might have sounded like, even though the playing style and flourishes have changed over the centuries, and many scholars have used the repertoire of the Japanese court to help work backwards to try and recreate some of the continental music. The dances that you often see with Gagaku musical accompaniment are known as Bugaku, and most of that was codified in the latter years of the Heian era—about the 12th century.  Then there is the famous masked theater known as Noh, which has its origins in a variety of traditions, going back to at least the 8th century and really brought together around the 14th century.  All of these traditions, however, are preceded by Gigaku, this form of masked dance that came over in the 7th century, and claims its roots in the area of “Wu” rather than “Tang”, implying that it goes back to traditions of the southern courts of the Yangzi river region. Gigaku spread along with the rest of continental culture, along with the spread of Buddhism and other such ideas.  From what we can tell, it was a dominant form of music and dance for the court, and many of the masks that were used are preserved in temple storehouses such as the famous Shosoin at the Todaiji in Nara.  However, as the centuries rolled by, Gigaku was eventually replaced at court by Bugaku style dances, though it continued to be practiced up through at least the 14th century.  Unfortunately, I know of no Gigaku dances that survived into the modern day, and we are left with the elaborate masks, some illustrations of dancers, and a few descriptions of what it was like, but that seems to be it. From what we can tell, Gigaku—also known as Kure-gaku, or Kure-no-utamai, meaning Music or Music and Dances of Wu—is first noted back in the reign of Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Kimmei Tennou, but it wasn't until the reign of Kashikiya Hime that we actually see someone coming over and clearly imparting knowledge of the dances and music—Mimashi, mentioned above.  We then see the dances mentioned at various temples, including Houryuuji, Toudaiji, and others.  Of course, as with many such things, Shotoku Taishi is given credit for spreading Gigaku through the Buddhist temples, and the two do seem to have gone hand in hand. We know a little bit about the dances from the masks and various writings.  The masks are not random, and a collection of Gigaku masks will have generally the same set of characters.  These characters appear to have been organized in a traditional order.  A performance would start with a parade and a sutra reading—which I wonder if that was original or if it was added as they grew more connected to the Buddhist temple establishment.  And then there was a lion dance, where a young cub would pacify an adult lion.  Lion dances, in various forms, continue to be found throughout East Asia. Then the characters come into play and there are various stories about, for example, the Duke of Wu, and people from the “Hu” Western Regions—that is to say the non-Han people in the Western part of what is now China and central Eurasia.  Some of these performances appear to be serious, while others may have been humorous interludes, like when a demon assaults the character Rikishi using a man's genitals while calling for the “Woman of Wu”.  That brings to mind the later tradition of ai-kyougen; similarly humorous or lighthearted episodes acted out during Noh plays to help break up the dramatic tension. Many of aspects of Gigaku would go on to influence the later styles of court music and dance.  Bugaku is thought to have some of its origins in masked Gigaku dancers performing to the various styles of what became known as Gagaku music.  There are also examples of some of the characters making their way into other theatrical traditions, such as Sarugaku and, eventually, Noh and even folk theater.  These hints have been used to help artists reconstruct what Gigagku might have been like. One of the key aspects of Gigaku is that for all they were telling stories, other than things like the recitation of the sutras, the action of the story appears to have been told strictly through pantomime in the dances.  This was accompanied by the musicians, who played a variety of instruments during the performance that would provide the musical queues for the dancers-slash-actors.  There was no dialogue, however, but the names of the various characters appear to have been well known, and based on the specifics of the masks one could tell who was who and what was going on. This is similar to how, in the west, there were often stock characters in things like the English Mummers plays or the Comedia dell'arte of the Italian city-states, though in Gigaku those characters would not speak at all, and their story would be conveyed simply through pantomime, music, and masks. There have been attempts to reconstruct Gigaku.  Notably there was an attempt in the 1980s, in coordination with a celebration of the anniversary of Todaiji, in Nara, and it appears that Tenri University may continue that tradition.  There was also another revival by famed Kyougen actor Nomura Mannojo, uncle to another famous Kyougen actor turned movie star, Nomura Mansai.  Mannojo called his style “Shingigaku”, which seems to be translated as either “True Gigaku” or “New Gigagku”, and he took that on tour to various countries.  You can find an example of his performance from the Silk Road Theater at the Smithsonian Folklife Festival in Washington, DC back in 2002, as well as elsewhere.  It does appear that he's changed things up just a little bit, however, based on his layout of the dances, but it is an interesting interpretation, nonetheless. We may never truly know what Gigaku looked and sounded like, but it certainly had an impact on theatrical and musical traditions of Japan, and for that alone it perhaps deserves to be mentioned. And I think we'll stop right there, for now.  There is more to get through, so we'll certainly have a part two as we continue to look at events of this rein.  There are stories of gods and omens.  There is contact with an island off the southern coast of Kyuushuu.  There are more trips to the Sui court.  Much of that is coming.  Until then, I'd like to thank you once again.  I can hardly believe we reached one hundred episodes!  And it comes just as we are about to close out the year. As usual, I'll plan for a recap episode over New Year's, and then I'll plan to get back into everything the episode after that, but this closes out the year. I hope everyone has a wonderful new year, however you celebrate and, as always, thank you for listening and for all of your support.  If you like what we are doing, 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 Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  

Découvrez l'abonnement "Au Coeur de l'Histoire +" et accédez à des heures de programmes, des archives inédites, des épisodes en avant-première et une sélection d'épisodes sur des grandes thématiques. Profitez de cette offre sur Apple Podcasts dès aujourd'hui ! Connaissez-vous Murasaki Shikibu ? Elle est l'auteure de la saga littéraire du Le Dit du Genji. Monument de la littérature japonaise, ce roman de plus d'un millier de pages raconte l'ascension et les passions amoureuses d'un prince impérial. Murasaki Shikibu a elle-même vécu à la cour impériale japonaise à son apogée, durant la période Heian, qui s'étend du VIIIe au XIIe siècle.> À l'occasion de l'exposition 'À la cour du Prince Genji, 1000 ans d'imaginaire japonais' qui se tient du 22 novembre 2023 jusqu'au 25 mars 2024 au musée Guimet à Paris , Virginie Girod vous propose une excursion japonaise au cœur de l'histoire. L'histoire de la femme de lettres Murasaki Shikibu commence dans 'un monde au-dessus des nuages', le monde de la cour impériale dans le Japon de l'époque Heian. Sous l'influence de la Chine, le Japon se réforme et connaît une période de prospérité, ce qui favorise les arts et les lettres. La capitale est déplacée à Heian-Kyô, l'actuel Kyôto, et une famille en particulier s'impose dans les plus hautes sphères du pouvoir : le clan Fujiwara. Murasaki Shikibu naît pendant cet âge d'or. Elle appartient à la noblesse moyenne, sans doute une branche cadette du clan Fujiwara. Brillante, elle maîtrise le chinois dont l'apprentissage est alors réservé aux garçons. Sa réputation de jeune fille savante a déjà fait le tour de Kyôto : autour des années 1000, l'homme le plus puissant de son clan, le ministre Fujiwara no Michinaga, lui propose de devenir dame de compagnie de sa fille, la toute jeune impératrice Shōshi. C'est là qu'elle se consacre à la rédaction de son chef-d'œuvre, Genji monogatari, Le Dit du Genji. Riche de 54 livres, de plus de 1000 pages et de 500 personnages, cette grande fresque qui se veut réaliste raconte la vie du Genji, qui désigne un fils d'empereur ne pouvant pas prétendre au trône. Le Dit du Genji est considéré comme le premier roman psychologique de l'histoire. Pour l'écrire, Murasaki Shikibu s'inspire des aristocrates qu'elle côtoie à la cour, où ses livres rencontrent un vif succès. Murasaki Shikibu meurt vers l'âge de 38 ans, on ignore la cause de son décès. Son Genji Monogatari devient immédiatement un classique. Les manuscrits sont sans cesse recopiés, puis imprimés. Ils sont encore aujourd'hui à la base de la culture littéraire nippone et inspirent de nombreux artistes dans tous les domaines, jusqu'aux mangas pour les adaptations les plus récentes. Thèmes abordés : Japon, littérature, Dit du Genji, cour impériale 'Au cœur de l'histoire' est un podcast Europe 1 Studio- Présentation : Virginie Girod - Production : Camille Bichler - Réalisation : Pierre Cazalot- Composition de la musique originale : Julien Tharaud - Rédaction et Diffusion : Nathan Laporte- Communication : Kelly Decroix- Visuel : Sidonie Mangin Sources : Ressources en ligne : https://histoiredujapon.com/2021/01/26/reperes-epoque-heian/ https://www.persee.fr/doc/dhjap_0000-0000_1989_dic_15_1_926_t1_0008_0000_4 Bibliographie : Daniel Struve, Sumie Terada et Christopher Lucken (dir.), « Roman du Genji et société aristocratique du Japon ancien », Médiévales, 72, Printemps 2017, 190 p.

It's a new day, but the game never changes. We've saved the world, but can we graduate from DUEL HIGH SCHOOL? This week we welcome the final season of GX, pop off at some actually INCREDIBLE duels, and chat with our good old friend Fujiwara as always! Oh, and Bridget is here too! Join our five hosts: ShibuyaZane, Carl Princeton, Professor Shorah, Yami Bio, and KZ Phoenix as they take a trip back through Yu-Gi-Oh! GX. If you want to watch the video version of the podcast, you can find the YouTube playlist over here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CIy_dS4sInE&list=PLn_Ey4ZwoCjmARajEEx-3jNECwPHf-J_P   Follow the OFFICIAL MillMic twitter here - https://twitter.com/millenniummic DipShips, The "Legitimate" Boating Podcast - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pnzGNzgAaFA&list=PLLRryKl2NetgplR557wv7r_HcEq9YPfQU Thank you to our Blue-Eyes White Dragons: Zomb1eslayer051, Lisa Slack, and Steffany Christianson Our Forbidden Ones: Man, I Love Dogs... Our God Cards: ShinyMew If you'd like a shout out, or just want to support us, consider checking out our Patreon at https://www.patreon.com/millenniummic Where To Find Us: ShibuyaGato: Twitter | Twitch CalamityCarl: Twitter | Twitch Shorah: Twitter | Twitch BioRoxas: Twitter | YouTube KZXcellent: Twitter | YouTube | Twitch Bridget: Twitter | Twitch

This episode we continue to try to pull apart the figure known as Shotoku Taishi, aka Prince Umayado, aka Prince Kamitsumiya, aka Toyotomimi no Mikoto.  We'll take a look a little more at what we know and talk about just what we might or might not know about the actual figure behind the legend that has been built up. For more, check out the podcast website at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-99 Rough Transcript: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is episode 99: The Prince of the Upper Palace. This is the second episode focused on the famous Prince known as Prince Shōtoku Taishi.  Last episode we went over the various stories that are told about this Prince in the various histories as well as some of the temple records.  Of course, it is generally agreed that most, if perhaps not all, of the information on Prince Shōtoku Taishi, which is to say, the Crown Prince of Great Virtue, is at best exaggerated, and at worst is completely made up at a later time by people deliberately trying to appropriate his story.  Unfortunately, it is extremely difficult to tell what is pure fiction and what might be some semblance of reality, but we'll give it a try as best we can. I will say that there is a *lot* that has been written about Shōtoku Taishi and his alter egos, Prince Umayado, aka Prince Kamitsumiya, aka Toyotomimi no Mikoto.  A lot more than I have time to truly delve into.  Besides various sources in Japanese, one of, if not the, most extensive look at sources mentioning the Prince is probably by Dr. Hermann Bohner in the 1930s and 1940s—however, his work, which I am told is over a thousand pages in length, is also entirely in German.  I'm not sure anything quite that extensive has been written in English.  Furthermore, other works out there, like Michael Como's own work, “Shōtoku: Ethnicity, Ritual, and Violence in the Japanese Buddhist Tradition”, often speak more to what the stories of Shōtoku Taishi say about developments in Japanese culture over time, focusing on the Cult of Shōtoku and what it said about Japan in general rather than focusing on the individual.  I am not going to have time to read all of the sources and condense them down for you, but I'm not sure that is exactly necessary.  Just be aware that there is a lot of ink that has been spilled over Shōtoku Taishi in one way or another. As for theories on the actual prince, they vary widely.  Some say that there was, indeed, a powerful figure at court known as Prince Umayado or, alternatively, as the Prince of the Upper Chamber, and he may have even been the Crown Prince, in line to inherit the throne had he not tragically passed away before the death of the current sovereign, Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennō.  Others suggest that the portrait we have is actually a composite—the work of many different individuals, all wrapped up in the guise of a single, powerful individual who instituted sweeping changes across the archipelago and single-handedly gave birth to the Japanese state.  Of course, there are also those who accept the story as true—or at least as true as the rest of that period of history. For my part, I believe I'm closer to the ideas proposed in 1999 by Ōyama Seichirō, in his book ‘Shōtoku Taishi no Tanjō', who suggested that there likely was an actual Prince Umayado, but that his story was exaggerated by the compilers of the Nihon Shoki and by later groups promoting the Shōtoku cult. By the way, when I mention the Shōtoku “cult” I want to be clear what I mean—cult in this instance is more like a cult of personality.  It encompasses the various ideas that people held about the Prince, true or otherwise.  However, it should be noted that until more recently it is unlikely that anyone would have claimed to have been a part of any kind of “cult” or group with specific, Shōtoku Taishi related beliefs.  Rather, the Prince's story was, to many of them, simply a fact, even as they consciously or unconsciously embellished the story.  In fact, we often blame the compilers of the Nihon Shoki for adding to the Prince's story, but it is just as likely that they were simply going off of other sources that also recorded these same things. Given all of that, who was the real Prince Umayado? We are told that Umayado's name comes because his pregnant mother gave birth to him as she was wandering around during her pregnancy and suddenly delivered him in front of the office of the horse stables—the Umayado.  He is also known as Prince Kamitsumiya, or the Prince of the Upper Palace.  This was because, we are told, before he was made Crown Prince and given the Crown Prince's quarters as his own, his father had installed him in the “Upper Hall” of the South Palace, in his own complex.  The name Toyotomimi no Mikoto is less obvious, but more similar to the types of names we had seen in previous generations of sovereigns, and likely a kind of titular name, combining various accolades and titles together. That last one gets to a tricky bit about Prince Umayado:  Was he actually of Royal birth, and was he the son of a previous sovereign? As noted last episode, we are told that Umayado's father was Tachibana no Toyohi, himself the son of Ame Kunioshi Hiraki Niwa no Ohokimi, aka Kinmei Tennō, and Kitashi Hime, daughter of Soga no Iname.  We've already noted how the Soga family really wormed their way into the royal line.  Theoretically, sovereigns were supposed to come from a queen that was, herself, of royal blood.  The previous exception to this was Iwa no Hime, daughter of Katsuraki no Sotsuhiko and wife to Ohosazaki no Ohokmi, aka Nintoku Tennō.  However, that seems to have stopped being an issue since about the time of Ame Kunioshi's father Wohodo no Ohokimi, aka Keitai Tennō.  After all, the first two of his sons to succeed him to the throne were the sons of Menoko, herself a daughter of Owari no Muraji no Kusaka—not exactly a name boasting of royal lineage.  To be fair, the Nihon Shoki only claimed that they were holding the throne for their more properly titled brother, Amekunioshi, so take that as you will. Amekunioshi, married three of his own nieces—daughters of his brother, which may have been an attempt to smooth out some of the kinks in the royal line.  He also married at least two—possibly three—daughters of Soga no Iname, and they produced several sovereigns.  One of these, of course, is Tachibana no Toyohi, aka Youmei Tennō, but there was also Hatsusebe no Wakasazaki, aka Sushun Tennō.  Finally there was Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennō, though one could argue that she held her place as much because she had been the consort—or even queen—to her step-brother, Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tennō. It should also be noted, though, that both Hatsusebe no Wakasazaki and Kashikiya Hime came to the throne during a period of political violence.  There was the Soga and Mononobe conflict, a genuine fight for the throne which spilled out into the general public.  This all reads as the results of Soga no Iname—and then, later, Soga no Umako—maneuvering to put the Soga family in power to rule the country.  That they succeeded in getting two Soga relatives on the throne—even if Umako then assassinated Hatsusebe when he proved too difficult to control—would seem to indicate that the Soga gambit had been effective, and they had overcome the traditions that previously had been designed to limit who had direct access to the power of the throne.  Of course, there are questions of just how old and how accurate that tradition was—for all we know, the previous “queens” had simply had their lineages updated to ensure that they were of proper royal birth—but I still think it is telling. But how does this relate to Umayado? Well, as I mentioned, his father was Tachibana no Toyohi.  Just like Kashikiya Hime and Hatsusebe, he was also a son of Ame Kunioshi no Ohokimi and one of his Soga wives.  In fact, it wouldn't be surprising had Toyohi taken the throne, given who else did.  However, I wonder if that ever actually happened.  The Nihon Shoki only places him on the throne briefly—about two years—and during that time, there was still a lot of conflict going on.  The idea that there had been a consensus and that Tachibana no Toyohi was chosen as the next Ohokimi already seems a bit questionable.  Then there is also his supposed misasagi, or tomb.  We are told that he was buried at Shinaga, and this tomb has been identified and is still known today, presumably.  Given the records from then until now, while it is possible that the tomb was mistaken at some point over the intervening centuries, I would propose that its identification is probably fairly reliable, especially as it is also said to be the tomb of Prince Umayado, as well.  However, there is a problem, and that is that the tomb is not a round keyhole shaped tomb as would be expected of a royal tomb up to that time.  Instead, it is a square shaped tomb. Why is this notable?  Because the "imperial” tombs up through Amekunioshi, aka Kinmei Tennō, and his son, Nunakura no Ohokimi, aka Bidatsu Tennō, are all round, keyhole shaped tombs; the zenpō-kōen, or flat font and round-backed kofun.  Even through different dynasties, the shape and size of the kofun seem to hold true.  However, that stops with Tachibana no Toyohi.  His tomb is square shaped, which is much more similar to individuals other than the royal family.  However, complicating matters somewhat, it isn't just his tomb where we see this change.  Suddenly we see a bunch of square tombs that are designated as royal tombs.  These include the tombs of Tachibana no Toyohi, aka Yōmei Tennō; Hasebe no Wakasazaki, aka Sushun Tennō; and Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennō.  All of their identified tombs seem to be square tombs, similar to the tomb identified with Soga no Umako, Ishi-butai kofun.  So why the sudden switch? It is not directly stated, but this may have been a part of all of the other changes in court and ritual that were happening.  In succeeding generations we see eight-sided kofun, and even round kofun—and all for verified sovereigns.  So it is entirely possible that it is at Youmei where the tradition of keyhole-shaped royal kofun ended. But I am still rather skeptical about all of this.  I wonder if the shape of Tachibana no Toyohi's kofun indicates it was just the kofun for a powerful member of the Soga lineage, just like Umako's kofun.  However, I must admit, it doesn't directly contradict the sources that say he was Tennō, since the following sovereigns are also recorded as having square-shaped tombs.  Then again, there is a bit of a question on just about all of them as far as how much they reigned and what power they held, vice what power was in the hands of Soga no Umako.  As for the succeeding generations, well, there are other shapes as well.  For instance, there is an octagonal kofun, and an eight sided kofun would actually match up well with a growing belief in Buddhism, where eight is an extremely auspicious number—enough that people in some Asian countries will actually pay more for license plates or phone numbers with multiple 8s in the number, along with other auspicious digits. And there's another factor that might explain why they moved to a less complex kofun shape: I've mentioned in past episodes that the temple building craze of the early 600s really killed off kofun construction.  We see resources that would have gone to venerating important figures, and building their tombs, the likely center of their ritual veneration, instead go to the building of temples.  In many ways, temples became the better and more lasting memorial for any wealthy individual, especially since temples themselves could grow and change with the times, where as a giant mound of earth, cool as it is, was a bit hard to modify, let alone relocate.  I also suspect that the change in various rituals also meant that the previous shape of the kofun, that round keyhole shape, may not have been as important in later periods.  If we assume that shape had something to do with the focus of conducting regular rituals at the site, for which purpose certain families were actually employed in hereditary positions, then moving away from that shape would suggest, to me, that there was a change in the rituals as well.  However, that change was coming much earlier than the temples, should we choose to believe the chronology given to us in the Nihon Shoki.  So it while it explains, in broad strokes, the move away from kofun practice, it doesn't satisfactorily explain everything that we are seeing at this period. And that brings me back to my hesitation to say that Tachibana no Toyohi was ever a sovereign of Yamato.  And the main thing about Tachibana no Toyohi's ascension that gets to me is it all feels rather contrived, and there really isn't much said about him.  I can only think that this was done in order to make sure that Prince Umayado had the necessary pedigree for everything else that people were going to be saying about him.  As awesome as he was, he wasn't going to be nearly so incredible if he didn't have a lineage which put him in line to inherit the throne.  BUT, I could very easily be wrong, especially if some of our sources aren't exactly in order.  We've certainly seen other places where it appears that individuals were either raised up as sovereigns or possibly co-sovereigns, individuals who reigned at the same time, may have had their reigns massaged to conform with the desired narrative.. Which brings up another question:  Was Umayado ever actually named as the Crown Prince?  Was he truly in line to succeed Kashikiya Hime? I'm not sure that is as black and white.  As I've noted before, why would Kashikiya Hime have chosen him over other potential candidates?  Even if his father wasn't sovereign, he was still a royal prince of Soga lineage, but Kashikiya Hime also had her own children, at least according to the Chronicles.  Where were they? I'm not sure, but I am inclined to believe that Prince Umayado may have, indeed, been either the Crown Prince or in a position so close that it didn't warrant a distinction.  That said, it might be interesting to look through some of the early records, such as the Gankōji Garan Engi, and see just how he is referred to, there. There are plenty of the stories about Prince Umayado that I believe we can take as true, even if only in part.  I have no reason not to believe that he was an avid supporter of continental learning, including Buddhism and other teachings.  That was all new and exciting, and with the direction that the Yamato state was tacking at the time it would have been useful and provided the Prince some clout and notoriety.  It is also quite possible that he penned one or more commentaries on various sutras, though how good or insightful it would have been I have no idea, and whether it was his own words or if he perhaps patronized a temple to help write them for him, I couldn't say.  I don't know that there is anything definitive, one way or the other.  I might even go so far as to suggest that he played a role in helping to lay out the seventeen article constitution and championed a version of the continental rank system, but I doubt he just made it up himself out of whole-cloth.  There were no doubt more than a few scribes by this point who had read various works from the continent and were able to help pull the various concepts of good government together.  I doubt he was the one putting pen to paper for all of it, but who knows. Perhaps, though, the most likely case for his existence comes in the form of the temple, Hōryūji, said to have been built on the site of his former estate, and the woven mandala said to have been commissioned by one of his own consorts.  These are compelling to me because they both physically exist, even if in a diminished state.  For Hōryūji we can look at the archaeological evidence, as well as any extant buildings or images.  For the Tenjukoku Shūchō Mandala, though, we only have some of the original fragments, along with some fragments of a later copy, but we also have copies of the inscription that was on the mandala.  It is possible that the transcription we have is somehow not correct, but that would be odd since the object was on display for people to see and remained intact through at least the Kamakura period, one assumes, since that's when they made a copy of it.  Let's examine both of these a little more in depth. Hōryūji temple is said to have been built by Prince Umayado, on his estate, but it was supposedly built for his father, Tachibana no Toyohi.  In fact, Hōryūji was apparently supposed to be *his* temple.  Tachibana no Toyohi, suffering from illness, is said to have vowed to build a temple, but he died before he could complete it.  Prince Umayado's eventual work to build Hōryūji is said to have been an act of filial piety as much as it was one of Buddhist piety, as it was dedicated, originally to Yakushi Nyōrai, a Buddha associated with healing illness, and it was built for his father, the Great King, Tachibana no Toyohi. We see several times the idea of building a temple on a noble family's personal compound.  Soga no Iname is the first to convert his house, or some portion, and Soga no Umako eventually succeeds with Hōkōji, aka Asukadera.  It makes sense that Hōryūji was also built on land donated by an elite member of Society, and everything points to it being Prince Umayado.  In fact, it would be rather odd to build it on land that wasn't already built up in some way.  Even Shitennōji was built, we are told, on a compound that formerly belonged to the Mononobe—a rather large middle finger, or perhaps an inverted V, extended by the Soga to those whom history labelled as the anti-Buddhist faction of the early court.  Nearby Chūgūji, literally the “Middle Palace Temple” was, we are told, built on the site of Prince Umayado's mother's home.  I'm not sure if we can verify that entirely, but the fact that it is known as the “Middle Palace Temple” suggests some connection to an elite's compound and “palace”—the Naka tsu Miya to Umayado's Kami tsu Miya, perhaps.  The two were close and became only closer with time, though they did retain their own characteristics. And so Hōryūji was quite likely built on the site of someone's palace, and if it wasn't the Prince we know as Umayado, then who was it?  At the very least we have some person that may be at least a part of the legion that makes up the legend of Shōtoku Taishi. As for the Tenjukoku Shūchō Mandala, for that we have the inscription from the mandala itself.  We are told that Tachibana no Iratsume asked Kashikiya Hime to commission it for her departed husband, Prince Toyotomimi.  As far as I can tell, this inscription, found in the Jōgū-Shōtoku Ho'o Teisetsu, a biography of Shōtoku Taishi, is considered an accurate transcription of the four hundred or so characters that were on the original curtain. If that is the case, then we have an inscription from shortly after his death attesting to the existence of a Prince Toyotomimi, and it even gives part of his lineage, including mention of Tachibana no Toyohi, whom we are told was, indeed, a sovereign, though we don't know when or for how long.  So that would seem to support the assertions in the Nihon Shoki about Tachibana no Toyohi's status. The biography, at least as it comes down to us, was likely compiled sometime in the 10th or 11th century, which makes a lot of its information suspect, but I generally think we can trust the transcription from the mandala.  Afterall, we have pretty good evidence for the artifact still existing when it was compiled.  The fact that the artifact seems pretty clearly made in the Asuka period—so in the 7th century, not soon after Toyotomimi's death—further adds to the reliability.  That isn't to say they didn't pick and choose what they were going to report in the biography itself, but, for me, there is little reason to doubt this inscription is what was on the actual mandala. On the other hand, we still don't have a lot of information about Tachibana no Toyohi.  He came to the throne, other things largely happened around him, and then he died of illness.  So perhaps Tachibana was a short-lived sovereign after all.  I'm honestly still on the fence about it, but the more I read, the more I come around to the idea, though that still doesn't explain how his son ended up being remembered so well. All in all, I suspect that most of Shōtoku Taishi's story is rooted in truths and facts about this era.  He may, indeed, have been the Crown Prince, or at least a very influential one.   He likely was on top of the craze in Buddhist and Continental learning.  He may have even played some role in helping to govern the country.  Still, how did he come to outshine the others who had almost equal claims on all of this change?  For one thing, there was Kashikiya Hime.  She was smart, capable, and the one actually seated on the throne.  Unfortunately, I suspect that she had two major impediments to taking on the mantle that Shōtoku Taishi donned.  For one thing, she was a woman. Unfortunately, along with continental ideas would come an increase in continental misogyny , though it would take some time to reach the same level, and there would still be female sovereigns ruling alongside male sovereigns for some time.  However, she also was the sovereign, and that likely meant that her reputation, such as it was, was caught up in the push and pull of court politics.  Even within the royal family there were different factions and different people aiming for the throne, and so she may not have had universal support for sainthood.  This may not have been as much of a problem had she, herself, like Prince Umayado, passed away early and young, but she lived and reigned a good long while. And then, besides her, there is the other major mover and shaker of the period, Soga no Umako.  Of just about anyone other than the sovereign, Soga no Umako seems to have been the best positioned to provide the kind of guidance, patronage, and more that was likely making into reality many of the things for which Shōtoku Taishi received credit, including his own temple of Hokoji.  Soga no Umako had an almost bigger problem than Kashikiya Hime, however.  He had led the forces against the Mononobe and their allies, and many of those allies would eventually lick their wounds and come back to power.  Even the Mononobe were still around, if not guiding the government.  Furthermore, listeners who have been reading ahead in the story will likewise already know that it was the Fujiwara family that eventually would control the court for centuries.  In fact, for many students of Japanese history, the Soga are not portrayed as paragons of virtue who helped introduce Buddhism to Japan, but rather as a greedy family that didn't know their place and who went beyond the bounds of what we considered acceptable behavior.  As such, I doubt Soga no Umako was in much of a position to be venerated by large swaths of the population. In the end, it was probably the fact that he died early that allowed Prince Toyotomimi, aka Prince Umayado, to become the venerated figure he is, today.  To quote eminent Gotham lawyer, Harvey Dent:  “You either die a hero or live long enough to see yourself become the villain.”  Sure enough, Prince Umayado died at a point where likely the public could still imagine all of the good that he could have done.  Meanwhile both Kashikiya Hime and Umako had been through some stuff, and they had done what they needed to gain and maintain power.  It may have been a recipe for their success, but it didn't necessarily make them universally beloved.  I suspect that, in the end, the lack of information about Prince Umayado, along with some key bits of likely true information, allowed people to build him up into what they needed him to be—a culture hero that could embody the ideals that Yamato was adopting and adapting from the continent.  He had the prestige—a royal prince and, perhaps even a Crown Prince.  And he was involved with this new culture that was being imported and updated. Of course, this is largely speculation.  In the end, it is hard to know what are the true facts around this legendary figure.  I think the best we can really say is that there likely was an ur-Shōtoku, an original Prince, who may or may not have been known as either Prince Umayado, Prince Kamitsumiya, or even Prince Toyotomimi—and one or more of those names may even have belonged to different people.  And so we are largely left with a question and with the legend, but in that legend, there is a plethora of information, if not about the actual human being, then about the changes that were happening in the Yamato court and in society as a whole.  Regardless of all of the exact details, the 7th century would be extremely critical in the history of Yamato, setting the path for the future.  One which we will be diving into, episode by episode, as we continue our trek through the histories. But for now, I think I'll leave you here.  For those listening to this when it comes out, I wish you the best in this holiday-filled season, from about November to February, whatever you may be celebrating.  And if you feel like giving, I hope you'll forgive me if I reiterate that I do this out of love of the history, and so we pay for all of the expenses ourselves, so any donations that people like to throw our way are always appreciated.  However, first and foremost, please take care of yourselves and those around you. And so, until next time, then, thank you for listening and for all of your support.  Again, if you do like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need this season 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 Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. 

【主なニュース】▼ガザ シファ病院 新生児含む34人死亡 南部の病院も発電機停止 ▼”今月30日付けでビッグモーターに処分出す方針” 鈴木金融相 ▼FUJIWARA 藤本敏史さんを書類送検 車運転中に当て逃げ事故疑い など

Comment comprendre la complexité et la richesse de la culture japonaise, sans tomber dans une admiration béate et parfois un peu naïve.Pour nous aider à mieux comprendre ce pays fascinant et ses nombreuses traditions, Thierry Lyonnet reçoit aujourd'hui dans Visages June Fujiwara. Cette japonaise, qui vit .en France depuis 20 ans, a une double culture et souhaite être un pont entre Paris et Tokyo.June Fujiwara vient de publier : « la parfaite Tokyoite « aux éditions Les Arenes.

Today, I'm in conversation with the amazing Mark Fujiwara.   As a Director and Certified Portfolio Manager® at Baird, Mark has almost three decades of experience in the private wealth management industry.   He is the author of Superior Results: Maximizing the Value of Your Family Office Just Like the Super-Rich. He is also a guest instructor at the Global School of Entrepreneurship, where he teaches courses on family office, mergers and acquisitions.     Mark is on a mission to destigmatize mental health. His goal is that we will all be free to talk about mental health as openly as we discuss the common cold.   In this episode, we'll explore: How Mark overcame a debilitating fear of speaking and anxiety around visibility The importance of vulnerability in overcoming mental health struggles  Why embracing vulnerability is essential in building trust and authentic connections Mark's current favorites: Book: Stop Saying You're Fine, Speaker: Kobe Bryant, and Podcast: Huberman Lab More from Mark Fujiwara Website: markfujiwara.com  LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/fujiwarapm/  Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/fujfocus/  More from Tricia  Hear from inspiring speakers and thought-leaders at the BTA Virtual Showcase Explore my content and follow me on YouTube Follow me on Instagram  Connect with me on Facebook  Connect with me on LinkedIn  Visit my website at TriciaBrouk.com 

This week in the Revised History of Japan: in a bid to strengthen the power of the imperial family, Emperor Kanmu moves the imperial capital one more time to some newfangled place called "Heian-kyo." Plus, the political battle between the imperial family and the Fujiwara clan takes a few more twists. Show notes here.

In the 1970s, Japan was undergoing an industrial boom. As the skies filled with smog and pollution soared, public health became a grave concern. In response Professor (Dr) Akira Miyawaki turned to native forests. Understanding their power in mitigating pollution and natural disasters, he developed The Miyawaki Method as a means to rapidly build dense biodiverse forests. Professor (Dr) Kazue Fujiwara was instrumental in the development of the Miyawaki Method, collaborating closely with Miyawaki right up until he retired. Today she is a vital guardian of the method traveling the world educating people about the power of Miyawaki forests. Together we dive into the history of the method and understand just how exactly these robust forests can protect life. Donate: https://www.sugiproject.com/support

Part two of a two-part episode   Mark Fujiwara is a certified exit planning advisor, a personal CFO to a select group of wonderful clients, a certified portfolio manager, an author, a speaker on the missing component of a financial plan, and a director at Baird with 30 years of industry experience. He is the author of Superior Results: Maximizing the Value of Your Family Office Just Like the Super-Rich, forthcoming in early 2023, and a guest instructor at the Global School of Entrepreneurship for courses on family offices and mergers and acquisitions. Most of the entrepreneurs and retirees he speaks to not only need guidance and order with their finances but also struggle to address the most important issue of health and longevity. Working with entrepreneurs for 25 years, he discovered that without addressing their most important asset, all that they've worked for could be lost. Don't forget to follow CB, comment, rate, review, and subscribe to the show on your preferred platform! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Rating/reviews: https://lovethepodcast.com/courage Listen on your favorite platform: ▶️ Apple Podcast: https://apple.co/34Q2dcI ▶️ iHeart Radio: https://ihr.fm/3sKaUgM ▶️ Amazon: https://amzn.to/36j2DZz ▶️ Spotify: https://spoti.fi/3I6jXzc Websites: ➡️ Courage Consulting: https://courage-consultant.com/ ➡️ KeynoteSpeaking: https://courage-consulting.com/speaker/ ➡️ Coaching Association: https://www.acec-association.org/ ➡️ Master Corporate Executive Coach Certification: https://acec-association.org/master-corporate-executive-coach-certification/ Social Media:

Part one of a two-part episode   Mark Fujiwara is a certified exit planning advisor, a personal CFO to a select group of wonderful clients, a certified portfolio manager, an author, a speaker on the missing component of a financial plan, and a director at Baird with 30 years of industry experience. He is the author of Superior Results: Maximizing the Value of Your Family Office Just Like the Super-Rich, forthcoming in early 2023, and a guest instructor at the Global School of Entrepreneurship for courses on family offices and mergers and acquisitions. Most of the entrepreneurs and retirees he speaks to not only need guidance and order with their finances but also struggle to address the most important issue of health and longevity. Working with entrepreneurs for 25 years, he discovered that without addressing their most important asset, all that they've worked for could be lost. Don't forget to follow CB, comment, rate, review, and subscribe to the show on your preferred platform! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ Rating/reviews: https://lovethepodcast.com/courage Listen on your favorite platform: ▶️ Apple Podcast: https://apple.co/34Q2dcI ▶️ iHeart Radio: https://ihr.fm/3sKaUgM ▶️ Amazon: https://amzn.to/36j2DZz ▶️ Spotify: https://spoti.fi/3I6jXzc Websites: ➡️ Courage Consulting: https://courage-consultant.com/ ➡️ KeynoteSpeaking: https://courage-consulting.com/speaker/ ➡️ Coaching Association: https://www.acec-association.org/ ➡️ Master Corporate Executive Coach Certification: https://acec-association.org/master-corporate-executive-coach-certification/ Social Media:

The alien abduction of Yoshihiro Fujiwara

In Kitami Japan in 1974, a 28 year old vegetable farmer, Yoshihiro Fujiwara, was awakened by a pounding knock at his door at 3 am. He was shocked to discover a starfish/octopus-like alien creature at his door. And this was just the beginning. But, are the Kitami aliens believable? Listen now.Patreon: Support Believing the Bizarre and get tons of extra content by joining our Patreon.For updates, news, and extra content, follow Believing the Bizarre on social media:InstagramFacebookTwitterDiscordWant to discuss the episode on the day it drops with Tyler and Charlie? Follow on Twitch and check out the extended Twitch streams every Tuesday.Shop Merch: You can rep Believing the Bizarre and buy some unique merchThis show is part of the Spreaker Prime Network, if you are interested in advertising on this podcast, contact us at https://www.spreaker.com/show/5780832/advertisement

Welcome back to Open The Voice Gate! Case (https://twitter.com/_inyourcase) and Mike (https://twitter.com/fujiiheya) are back with an update on the comings and goings of Dragongate.With the official announcement of SB KENTo and Takuma Fujiwara's departure from Dragongate coming over the weekend, Case and Mike spend the first half of the show discussing the news with some new reporting. They discuss the context of the departure and the announcement along with what their exit means for their career and Dragongate's future. From there, they discuss the new upload of the first ever 4-Way 6-Man Tag from 8/30/03 and their thoughts on Shin M2K vs Crazy Max vs Italian Connection vs Do'FIXER, and their first half of 2023 Dragongate matches of the year!Our podcast provider, Red Circle, offers the listeners the option to sponsor the show. Click on “Sponsor This Podcaster” at https://redcircle.com/shows/open-the-voice-gate and you can donate a single time, or set up a monthly donation to Open the Voice Gate!Please Rate and Review Open The Voice Gate on the podcast platform of your choice and follow us on twitter at https://twitter.com/openvoicegate.Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Welcome back to Open The Voice Gate! Case (https://twitter.com/_inyourcase) and Mike (https://twitter.com/fujiiheya) are back with an update on the comings and goings of Dragongate.Open The Voice Gate opens this week with a long discussion about SB KENTo and Takuma Fujiwara and their departure from Dragongate. This is a wide-arching discussion based on Case and Mike's original reporting on the situation and the Observer's report from June 2nd. They spend close to an hour discussing their timeline of events, preconceived notions of the Dragon System's departures, SBK and Fujiwara, how they anticipate how the situation will fall out.From there we are one month from Kobe Pro Wrestling Festival and the card is becoming clear after a big weekend in Tokyo and Kobe! YAMATO vs Hiromu Takahashi is signed, the masked man situation becomes clear, and Yasushi Kanda has the best match of his 25 year career on this jam packed Voice Gate!Our podcast provider, Red Circle, offers the listeners the option to sponsor the show. Click on “Sponsor This Podcaster” at https://redcircle.com/shows/open-the-voice-gate and you can donate a single time, or set up a monthly donation to Open the Voice Gate!Please Rate and Review Open The Voice Gate on the podcast platform of your choice and follow us on twitter at https://twitter.com/openvoicegate.Advertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brandsPrivacy & Opt-Out: https://redcircle.com/privacy

Jason Evans of SilverShark Media speaks to Daryl Fujiwara, the event coordinator for the King Kamehameha Day Parade in Lahaina on June 17th.  In this podcast Daryl talks about the significance of King Kamehameha Day, what goes into planning for this event, how the parade has evolved over the past decade, the schedule of events on June 17th in Lahaina for the parade, why this commemorative tradition is so important to continue, and how to learn more about the event.  

In this episode of the I Heart My Life Show, I had the pleasure of interviewing financial advisor Mark Fujuwara.  But guess what? This convo is not about money or financial advice... Real truth? When my previous client and friend Tricia Brouk introduced me to Mark, I had no idea who he was or what he did. But I was captivated by his story... Back in 2016, Mark's life took a downward spiral after a tough divorce, and he struggled with depression, anxiety, and panic attacks. Through a simple conversation, he got the idea to step out of his comfort zone for 100 days, which as you'll hear in this episode, completely transformed his mental health and reduced his anxiety and depression. Now if you're reading this thinking you could never take that challenge, just know that he started small. In fact, his first step was telling someone about his mental health struggles. He called his cousin, who also had mental health struggles (unbeknownst to him!), and found it liberating to share his story. Now, Mark's goal is to normalize conversations about mental health symptoms in society, comparing it to talking about common cold symptoms. He believes that this would be a significant step towards winning the battle against mental health struggles if we could all be more open. I completely agree which is why mental health is a big topic of conversation on this Show. In this episode, you'll also hear Mark talk about how transforming his own life through his new practices also impacted his business. For example, he no longer works with clients who are not their true selves and is able to attract high-level contracts easily, without struggle due to his own energy and magnetism.  Mark's story serves as a reminder that it's okay to struggle and seek help, and that vulnerability can lead to personal growth and positive change, and he gives us simple ways to reduce anxiety and depression. Let's dive in... In This Episode: [00:00]The Importance of Mental Health  Mark discusses his goal of normalizing conversations about mental health and how it can help in winning the battle against mental illness. [01:49]Mark's Journey and Work  Emily introduces Mark and they discuss his upbringing, career trajectory, and the creation of his family office. [07:10]The Power of Being True to Yourself  Mark talks about his struggles with mental health and how being true to himself and sharing his story has helped him and his clients achieve better results. [12:33]Chy Egoi and Maximum Appreciation  Mark explains the Japanese concept of Chy Egoi and Maximum Appreciation of the moment. [14:08]Wake-up Call  Mark talks about his struggles with anxiety and depression and what led to his wake-up call in 2016. [21:05]Jumping in a Cold Body of Water Mark shares how Dave Asprey's advice to jump in a cold body of water became his day one task and how it helped him expand his comfort zone. [22:13]Hip hop dancing class  Mark talks about his experience attending an advanced hip hop dancing class and how it helped him step out of his comfort zone. [25:39]Benefits of vulnerability  Mark discusses how being vulnerable and sharing his mental health struggles with others helped him feel less lonely and become his true self. [29:17]Indicators of true self  Mark shares how he measures his energy levels and looks for red flags to determine if someone is living out their true self. [33:10]Mark's True Self Approach Mark discusses his approach to financial advising, which is centered around being true to oneself and avoiding scripts. He shares examples of how this approach has led to successful client relationships. [34:28]The Importance of Being True to Oneself  Mark shares a story about how being his true self during a client meeting led to a successful business relationship. He also discusses the importance of being true to oneself in all aspects of life. [41:23]Manifestation and Letting Go of Results  Mark and Emily discuss the importance of manifestation and attracting abundance, and how being unattached to specific results can lead to greater success. They also draw parallels between this approach and dating. [43:24]Trisha's Big Opportunities  Emily and Mark discuss how Trisha's success has become expected due to her alignment and energy. [44:11]Mark's Anxiety Story  Mark shares his experience with anxiety and how he learned to cope with it through meditation and shifting his focus. [53:22]Surrounding Yourself with the Right People  Mark emphasizes the importance of surrounding yourself with people who align with your true self and being honest with yourself about those relationships. [55:04]Mark's Struggles with Mental Health  Mark talks about the importance of being aware of one's mental health and how it affects one's energy. [55:40]Attracting Positive Energy  Emily and Mark discuss how attracting positive people is a sign of a shift in one's energy. [56:03]Gratitude and Appreciation  Emily thanks Mark for his vulnerability and time, and Mark expresses his appreciation for Emily's work and personality. Links & Resources: Ready to Uplevel Your Life? Join here https://www.iheartmylife.com/membership Follow the I Heart My Life Show on Apple Podcasts https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/i-heart-my-life-show/id1569047758 Subscribe to the I Heart My Life Show on Spotify https://open.spotify.com/show/1Zw6fI37FrfVjZMXlMiZZ6  Connect with Emily: Emily Williams Website https://emilywilliams.com/ Emily on Instagram https://www.instagram.com/emilywilliams/ I Heart My Life Website https://www.iheartmylife.com/ I Heart My Life on Instagram https://www.instagram.com/iheartmylife/ I Heart My Life on Facebook https://www.facebook.com/iheartmylifenow I Heart My Life on LinkedIn https://www.linkedin.com/company/i-heart-my-life/ Join the IHML community to receive exclusive announcements and tips. https://www.iheartmylife.com/newsletter Email: info@iheartmylife.com Connect with Mark Fujiwara Website https://mfujiwara.bairdwealth.com/

Harry Fujiwara - 02/12/2023 by New Hope Church NYC

On new episode of the “Amazin' But True” podcast, Jake Brown opens the show talking about Max Scherzer's controversial ejection in the 4th inning Wednesday. He reacts to what Scherzer and Buck Showalter said after the game, umpire Phil Cuzzi's foolish decision, the Mets prevailing with a win anyway and reacting to the series win over the Dodgers in Los Angeles. Kodai Senga's interpreter Hiro Fujiwara joins the show to talk about how he got here, working with Senga and the ghost forkball. The guys then play the rest of the interview with former Mets All-Star infielder Daniel Murphy. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

In today's episode, Bill talks to the Director of Baird, Mark Fujiwara, about his journey to success and how he built his network of remarkable people. He also shares how he makes it a point to be present at all times with his family despite his busy schedule and more about his personal life.   Mark Fujiwara is a Personal CFO to a select group of wonderful clients, a certified portfolio manager, an author, and a  rspeaker on the missing component of a financial plan. Most of the entrepreneurs and retirees he speaks to not only need guidance and order with their finances but struggle to address the most important issue of health and longevity. Working with entrepreneurs for 25 years, he has discovered that without addressing their most important asset, all that they've worked for could be for not.   You can reach Mark at: Website: http://www.fujiwarabaird.com/ LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/fujiwarapm/ Email: mfujiwara@rwbaird.com   Show notes: [0:16] People are doing more instead of doing less [2:45] Mark's new book: Achieving Results [8:34] What does money mean to Mark? [18:30] Where to find Mark [21:58] Outro   Connect with Bill Bloom  Web: https://www.bloomfinancialco.com/ https://bloomfinancialco.kartra.com/page/bNJ87 Email: bill@bloomfinancial.us  LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/bloomfinancial/ FB: https://www.facebook.com/retireasyoudesirepodcast   Securities and investment advisory services offered through Woodbury Financial Services, Inc. (WFS) member FINRA/SIPC. WFS. is separately owned and other entities and/or marketing names, products or services referenced here are independent of WFS.   Views expressed in this podcast are for general informational purposes only and are not intended to provide or be a substitute for specific professional financial, tax or legal advice or recommendations for any individuals. Information is based on sources believed to be reliable; however, their accuracy or completeness cannot be guaranteed.

In today's episode, Bill talks to the Director of Baird, Mark Fujiwara, about his journey to success and how he built his network of remarkable people. He also shares how he makes it a point to be present at all times with his family despite his busy schedule and more about his personal life.   Mark Fujiwara is a Personal CFO to a select group of wonderful clients, a certified portfolio manager, an author, and a  rspeaker on the missing component of a financial plan. Most of the entrepreneurs and retirees he speaks to not only need guidance and order with their finances but struggle to address the most important issue of health and longevity. Working with entrepreneurs for 25 years, he has discovered that without addressing their most important asset, all that they've worked for could be for not.   You can reach Mark at: Website: http://www.fujiwarabaird.com/ LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/fujiwarapm/ Email: mfujiwara@rwbaird.com   Show notes: [1:42] How collaborating with Justin Breen is like [8:12] Mark's journey to success [11:52] On his authenticity as the ikigai [16:45] Being a hundred percent present with his family [20:54] Outro   Connect with Bill Bloom  Web: https://www.bloomfinancialco.com/ https://bloomfinancialco.kartra.com/page/bNJ87 Email: bill@bloomfinancial.us  LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/bloomfinancial/ FB: https://www.facebook.com/retireasyoudesirepodcast   Securities and investment advisory services offered through Woodbury Financial Services, Inc. (WFS) member FINRA/SIPC. WFS. is separately owned and other entities and/or marketing names, products or services referenced here are independent of WFS.   Views expressed in this podcast are for general informational purposes only and are not intended to provide or be a substitute for specific professional financial, tax or legal advice or recommendations for any individuals. Information is based on sources believed to be reliable; however, their accuracy or completeness cannot be guaranteed.

Do you believe in the power of introductions and creating significant relationships? In this episode, Justin Breen and Mark Fujiwara, the co-founders of the exclusive connectivity platform BrEpic Network, delve into how to build global networks and meaningful connections to develop extraordinary companies. They touch on the concepts that rule their lives and the importance of treating partnerships as an investment. Tune in and start your journey to your epic life![00:01 - 10:01] Opening SegmentWhy Justin & Mark decided to write a bookThe importance of creating real valueTreating partnerships as an investment How the right networks lead to success[10:02 - 20:47] What True Entrepreneurs Care AboutThe patterns of successful entrepreneurshipTrue knowledge is knowing where to look something upFind a partner with a complimentary skillsetFocus on what you are really good at[20:48 - 33:35] Everything is PossibleIntroducing the manifestation conceptWhy Justin & Mark's goal is to change the way things are doneWhat the process is the shortcut meansThe more shortcuts, the better outcomes[33:36 - 43:00] Closing SegmentThe 2 Japanese concepts of entrepreneurship & growthHigh achievers don't like mediocre peopleA daily practice that brings Justin & Mark peace in their lifeConnect with Justin on LinkedIn. Head to BrEpic to access exclusive resources!Key Quotes:“We only partner with visionaries who live in abundance and who look at things as investments, not costs.” - Justin Breen“The right mindset attracts the right network and creates the right opportunities.” - Justin Breen“It's not only being present but appreciation for the uniqueness of the moment.” - Mark FujiwaraConnect with me on LinkedIn!LIKE, SUBSCRIBE, AND LEAVE US A REVIEW on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Google Podcasts, or whatever platform you listen on. Thank you for tuning in and Stay Tuned for the Next Episode COMING SOON!

This episode we take a look at the reign of Takewo Hiro Oshikuni Tate, aka Senka Tenno, and we take our first steps into what is referred to as the Asuka Period, due to the large number of rulers who had courts in the region of Asuka in the southern Nara Basin. For more information, check out https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-80 Rough Transcript: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Episode 80: The Asuka Period Begins! When last we looked at the Chronicles, we were in the reign of Magari no Ohine, aka Ohoye—though we've gone with Ohine so I'm going to stick with that—aka Ankan Tennou.  Assuming the dating in the Chronicles is correct, he was born about 465, and would have come of age in the era of Wakatakiru no Ohokimi, aka Yuuryaku Tennou.  When his father, Wohodo no Ohokimi, first took the throne in 507, Ohine would  would have been in his early forties—his father only in his mid to late 50s.  And so when his father passed away about 25 years later, Ohine was already into his late 60s, himself.  It is unclear whether his father reigned for 25 or 28 years; the Chronicles say 25, officially, but then note that there is another source that claims it was 28.  It goes on to skip over about three years, during which Ohine himself didn't take the throne, allowing for 28 years to have passed.   That discrepancy of three years may not seem like much, but it is still curious. Realistically, though, he had his hand on the tiller of the ship of state for much longer.  We see his hand in stories dated to about 513, when he is shown politicking on national issues, taking a royal princess as his wife, and being established as the heir apparent.  So he is actively participating in the government, and while it does appear that the long tradition of co-rulership, which we've discussed a few times, may have died out around this period, there seems little doubt as to his influence in the court. And yet, Ohine's reign only lasted two years.  He was perhaps 68 or 69 years old when he took the throne, and he would die in the following year.  Despite his influence, his father's long reign had kept him off the throne for much of that time, and he was likely considered venerable even as he took the throne.  He was succeeded by his maternal brother, the second eldest son of Wohodo no Ohokimi, who full name was Take-wo Hiro Kunioshi Tate.  Based on his age and the dating in the Chronicles, he was only about one year younger than his older brother.  So everything I said above about Ohine coming to the throne at a late age applies to Takewo as well - he would have also been through almost 7 decades by that point, so he was no spring chicken. It is unclear what Takewo's role was, growing up.  He was the second son.  His older brother was the heir apparent, and had his elder brother had children, no doubt those children would have been expected to inherit.  However, such as not meant to be, as Magari no Ohine died childless. Here I should point out that there were other brothers, since in the stories we've seen so far there has not necessarily been an insistence on the eldest brother taking the throne.   One of these brothers was the young Ame Kunioshi Hiraki Hiro Niwa no Mikoto.  Born to Wohodo and his formal queen, Tashiraga, he would have been 26 at the time of Magari no Ohine's death.  Young, in comparison to Takewo, but not impossibly so, and certainly old enough to have taken the throne.  In fact the Chronicles treat it as a forgone conclusion, though that is likely more twenty-twenty hindsight than anything else.  Besides, although his mother was queen, that appears to have been a blatantly political marriage, designed to join Wohodo's line with that of the previous sovereigns.  Even Ohine had married a royal princess from the previous ruling line, and Takewo would be little different.  Still, it seems likely that Takewo and Ohine were likely from the more favored line, at least at the time, and as they took the throne, had they had heirs who could follow after them those heirs would have likely been the new royal lineage. So: both Ohine and his brother came to the throne quite late in their lives, and neither would hold it for very long.  That doesn't mean, though, that there aren't some important tidbits for us in their stories.  As we've discussed in the last few episodes, a lot happened during Ohine's reign, particularly with the establishment of various royal granaries.  His entry in the Nihon Shoki is over twice the length of Takewo's, even though the latter's reign was longer, though not by much—lasting from the twelfth month of 535 to the spring of 539—a little more than three years, all told.  Still, Takewo's reign has a few notable events.  First such thing is the enthronement ceremony in the twelfth month of 535, as the Ministers of the court delivered up to Takewo the regalia—the sword and the mirror.  Notice that there is no mention of the jewel, and neither is their mention of the seal, which was the item given to Takewo's father, Wohodo, on *his* ascension, which we discussed back in Episode 75.  This continues something of a trend, where the sword and the mirror are the truly public regalia. Then, they moved the palace, as was customary.  The Chronicles say that they set it up in Ihorino, in Hinokuma.  This has traditionally been identified as being in the Hinokuma district of Asuka, near Omiashi jinja.  Omiashi jinja claims to be the family shrine of the Aya, one of the families that trace their lineage back to the weavers brought over from the Korean peninsula.  That family, much like the current dynasty, traced their own lineage back to the time of Homuda Wake, and I wonder if there wasn't some kind of connection that would have made Hinokuma important to the sovereign and the court back in the early 6th century. It is also near the site of the ruins of Hinokuma temple, said to have been established over a century later, in 686.  Temples often were their own kind of symbol, and likely spoke to some importance for this area at the time it was founded, though it is likely that was coincidental to the site's use by Takewo and his court, assuming the Chronicles can be trusted on that point. Now some of you, like me, may have picked up on the location of this palace; that is to say, Asuka.  As in the Asuka period.  This is the period, between the 6th and 7th centuries, when many of the sovereigns based their capitals out of this region south of Kashihara in the Nara Basin, and hence the name.  We'll talk more on this periodization—as well as the various dates and what they mean—later on in the episode.  For now, just know that this area, which is rich in archaeological evidence for this period, is going to be of particular importance to us—so much so that scholars have named an era after this region. After setting up the palace, we are told that Takewo appointed his ministers.  Two of the names are no surprise—Ohotomo no Kanamura and Mononobe no Arakahi were still around, and had continued in positions of power.  Two new names join the list, however:  Soga no Iname no Sukune was made Oho-omi, and Abe no Ohomaro no Omi was made Daibu. Soga no Iname comes from the famous Soga clan.  They claimed descent through none other than the famous Katsuragi no Sotsuhiko, and have popped up now and again.  For more on Sotsuhiko, check out episode 47.  The last mention appears to be during the reign of Wakatakiru no Ohokimi, when they mentioned Soga no Karako—which looks like it may be talking about someone born on the Korean peninsula.  Given their connections to the continent and their eventual connection with Buddhism—as we'll see in later episodes they played a large role in bringing it over and popularizing it in Japan—it seems quite likely that they had ties to the Korean peninsula.  Here, we see Soga no Iname being made Ohoomi, the head of the Soga no Omi family, and what appears to be a rank of prime minister, although so far the actual authority of the Oho-omi in State affairs seems a bit hit or miss. Abe no Ohomaro, on the other hand, is being made Daibu.  This term is interesting—they are not making Ohomaro the head of the Abe clan, which would also be Ohoomi, one assumes, just like the Ohomuraji of the Ohotomo and Mononobe, though there are a lot of “Omi” ranked families that have been mentioned, but only a handful who have been mentioned as Oho-omi.  The term “daibu” has shown up a few times in the Chronicles before, and generally just seems to refer to high ranking court officials, generally, though here it seems to be a specific court title.  It would certainly be used that way, later, but it is also possible that, like Omi, it was originally just a more general term for high ranking ministers. The Abe family has shown up here and there.   Much like the Mononobe, their family name appears to suggest that they were originally formed as one of the “-Be” corporate family groups, though of course they show up in the Chronicles well before that would seem to have been the case, and have been prominent enough to marry daughters off to various sovereigns, so they at least claim something of a pedigree.  They would continue to be important at court, and appear to have been close allies with the Soga clan, at least in this period. There are a host of famous Abe throughout history.  From the poet, Abe no Nakamaro, to the famous Onmyoji, or Yin-yang diviner, Abe no Seimei.  There was a branch of Abe in the Tohoku region that regularly caused problems for later courts.  And of course there is the modern political dynasty, as well, including the late Prime Minister, Abe Shinzo.  However, it is somewhat difficult to know just who is actually related.  The poet Nakamaro may be named for a village, rather than for his relationship to the court family.  There are even different ways of spelling and pronouncing the Abe name, even in the Nihon Shoki itself.  The Abe family was large enough that it would not have been difficult for someone to claim a relationship that didn't exist, particularly in some of the more chaotic times.  Still, we'll try to keep track of them as best we can, at least as they interact with our narrative.  In this case, that means keeping an eye on Abe no Ohomaro and his position at court. Besides affirming the ministers, there was also the appointment of a queen.  Here we again see the trend to connect this dynasty with the previous, as Takewo's primary wife was none other than Tachibana no Nakatsu, a daughter of Ohoke no Ohokimi, aka Ninken Tennou.  Together they had one son and three daughters, so technically it would appear that he did have an heir when he passed, but as we'll see, that isn't quite how the succession ended up working out. One of the major events of this reign seems rather substantial.  That's the creation of a government house—basically an administrative center—in northern Kyushu, specifically in Nanotsu no Kuchi.  Ostensibly it was to organize granaries to consolidate and distribute food as necessary.  Of course, it can't be forgotten that rice was not just food, but also the basis of the economy.  So granaries were just as much a place that taxes could be collected, and that would have given officials there a tidy sum, some of which was no doubt destined for Yamato, but which I imagine was also used to help grease the wheels of local government. We've seen this coming for some time.  We see the military subdual of Kyushu in the old stories, and we see various people sent out to bring it to heel or otherwise administer at least the northern areas, which would have been part of the critical trade routes between Yamato and the mainland.  Mononobe no Arakahi had been sent down with what we are told was a “battleax” of office to put down the Iwai Rebellion.  That was about ten years ago, and we see Arakahi still in the government.  Now, however, Yamato seems to be consolidating its hold over the area, instituting economic controls, beyond just the threat of military force. There are also the various areas and families that they drew upon to fund and kickstart this venture.  Most of it is from the Yamato region—Mamuta, in Kawachi; Owari, near modern Nagoya; Nihinomi, likely near Ohosaka; and Iga.  The families in charge of this include Aso no Kimi, who must have had some leverage in Mamuta; Soga no Iname, who held influence of the Owari no Muraji; Mononobe no Arakahi, who apparently was in charge of the Nihinomi no Muraji; and then the Abe family, who directed the Iga no Omi.  Of these, I find the Aso no Kimi most intriguing, as the others are all related to the great ministers of state.  Aso no Kimi feels out of place, to me.  It may be a reference to Mt. Aso or similar.  But I also can't help but notice that we have one Great Minister missing:  Ohotomo no Kanamura, though not for long. The rest of the setup of this government house—what sounds suspiciously like the area we'll later come to know as the Dazaifu—included commandments that the local regions of the island of Kyuushuu also provide funds, which is to say rice.  They consolidated reserves from Tsukushi, Hi, and Toyo, which is mostly northern Kyushu. This was all in the year 536.  Whether that is when it was commanded or that is when it was setup is not quite clear to me.  One suspects that it would have fallen to Mononobe no Arakahi to administer things from this new government center, if it weren't for that fact that Arakahi passed away only about a month later. It is unclear who administered this new government house immediately, but in the year following, 537, and with Silla breathing down Nimna's neck, Takewo's government assigned Ohotomo no Kanamura's sons, Iwa and Sadehiko, to assist Nimna.  Iwa took charge of the government in Tsukushi, which would have been supplying any adventures on the peninsula, including raising troops and making preparations. Meanwhile his brother, Sadehiko went to Nimna and, we are told, “restored the peace” there, as well as lending aid to Yamato's ally, Baekje. This is rather vague.  I don't see anything in the Samguk Sagi that clearly equates to this.  In 532, the Silla Annals talk about the King of Keumgwan Kara surrendering to Silla, though Kara would continue to be a going concern for at least another sixty years or so.  It is possible that this had something to do with this new expedition around 537, but it isn't clear. Takewo would pass away in 539.  His kofun near Mt. Unebi, just a little ways north of his palace at Hinokuma.  It is identified as one in modern Toriyacho.  It is said that he was buried together with his wife, Tachibana, and one of their children, who died while still quite young. And that's where we might end things, but there are a few other points to note for this period.  For one thing, this is a great time to discuss periodization in Japanese history, since some people claim that the Asuka period started during this reign—specifically referencing the date of 538. Periodization of historical eras often seems straightforward, but more often than not it is anything but.  Periods may be designated for political reasons or even cultural.  Political reasons may include things like a change in government, or even a change in the location of government.  Certainly the Nara period, starting in 710, is based quite squarely on the foundation of Heijo-kyo, the continental style capital in modern Nara city.  Likewise the Heian and Kamakura eras are often dated from the founding of the governments in those areas. However, just because the government moved does not necessarily mean that things changed overnight, or even much at all.  Likewise there were smaller changes that often happened within these periods, so within the Heian and Kamakura periods, you get terms like the Fujiwara and Insei periods to denote specific aspects of who was controlling the government at any given time. For some, that means that the Asuka period doesn't start until the reign of Toyomike Kashikiya-hime, aka Suiko Tenno, in 593, and by the narrowest definition only continues until the Taika reforms in 645, which are easily defined political dates with broad agreement across the scholarship for when they occurred. And yet, we know that there were governments based out of the Asuka period before that, if the Nihon Shoki is to be at all believed.  So if this is about the location of the capital, why not start it with Takewo and his palace?  Shouldn't that be the start of the so-called “Asuka Period”?  After all, during this period the sovereigns continued the practice of building new palaces upon their ascension, with most, though not all, being in the Asuka area.  And yet, that probably wouldn't really help break up the period in the most meaningful ways.  After all, if we go with that idea, why not start when Wohodo no Ohokimi built his palace in Iware, just a little to the north?  What was so different from one to the other? On the other hand, cultural periods tend to focus on changes in things like art or even thought.  These often overlap well, but not exactly, with political periods.  For instance, you may hear about the Higashiyama period, a time in the Muromachi when the Higashiyama era of Kyoto was ascendant, and it was influencing artistic growth and evolution across the country.  But even that is a hard thing to tack down. For the Asuka period, perhaps the biggest change – and one we will spend a lot of time discussing – was the introduction of Buddhism, that foreign religion from India, transported across Eurasia to the Korean peninsula and then over to Japan.  The primary figure to whom the spread of Buddhism in Japan is attributed is the enigmatic Shotoku Taishi, who served as a regent for Toyomike Kashikiya hime, and instituted myriad reforms, often along continental models.  And yet, if we want to look at the start of Buddhism, that actually goes further back—and for many it goes back all the way to the years included in this reign—specifically the year 538. Now the year 538 in the Nihon Shoki contains no mention of Buddhism.  In fact, the Nihon Shoki wouldn't have a record of anything related to Buddhist teachings coming to Japan until about 13 or 14 years later, in the reign of the following sovereign, known as Kimmei Tenno, whom we will be getting to shortly.  This chronicle states that it was in about 552 when an envoy from Baekje brough an image of the Buddha as well as Buddhist scriptures to the court.  However, these days it seems that many scholars prefer a date of 538 for this particular event.  The 538 date comes from the records of Gangoji Temple—the Gangouji Garan Engi—as well as the Jouguu Shoutoku Houou Teisetsu, aka the Jouguu-ki.  This latter is purported to be a biography of Shotoku Taishi, and comes from the 8th century, so contemporary with the Nihon Shoki, the Kojiki, and the Sendai Kuji Hongi.  Both of these sources lend credence to the idea of 538 being when these Buddhist icons first came over, and so many people will start the Asuka period at this date. To be clear, it isn't as if Buddhism came over once and that was the end of it and everybody became Buddhist.  This is just the first recorded instance of Buddhist items and ideas entering Japan—it wasn't until later, as the court was adopting more and more continental ways, that Buddhism really gained acceptance and spread.  Eventually it seems that state sponsorship of temples would override the construction of large kofun, as economic resources and labor were shifted to these new institutions of the state, bringing the Kofun era to its eventual end.  But that is still down the road for us.  Right now we are just at the beginning of the introduction of Buddhism, and while things are changing and the state is definitely growing, life didn't suddenly take a turn one way or the other. As for the date of 538—why was this, in hindsight, incredibly important religious and cultural event not mentioned in the reign of Takewo?  Why was it instead mentioned in the reign of his successor? I've seen a few theories, but nothing that can concretely answer this question.  Of course, there is the possibility that Takewo just wasn't as impressive.  The Chronicles seem to take issue with both his lineage and his elder brother's, suggesting they weren't true heirs because they did not have the full pedigree that someone like their brother, Ame Kunioshi, had.  Of course, that could also have something to do with the path history took—to the Chroniclers it only made sense, but I think we can all see how that could have turned out differently. There is also a theory that Ame Kunioshi, aka Kimmei Tenno, was actually co-ruling.  Some have even suggested that Takewo and his brother, Magari no Ohine, were fictional,  though why they would need to pad things out is anybody's guess.  It certainly does not seem unreasonable to think that some tradition of co-rulership had briefly continued in some form.  As such, it may be that it did happen during Ame Kunioshi's reign, but that said reign overlapped with his brother.  If that were the case, the Chroniclers may have been teasing the two apart to provide a more direct narrative. In the end, it is hard to know exactly why the dates don't correspond between the different documents, but for our part I think we can say that we have now at least dipped our toes into the Asuka Period, especially as we get into the reign of Takewo's younger step-brother, the youngest son of Wohodo no Ohokimi, or so we are told:  Ame Kunioshi Hiraki Hiro Niwa, aka Kimmei Tennou But that will be for another episode, and there is so much to talk about:  More contact with the continent, further discussion of the coming of Buddhism, and perhaps a look at some of the archaeology, including some volcanic events that don't seem to have made it into the Chronicles themselves.  All of that, coming up. Until then, thank you for listening and for all of your support.  If you like what we are doing, 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 Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.    

This week: the career and legacy of the most influential Japanese poet you've probably never heard of, Fujiwara no Teika. Teika's views on poetry and literature have shaped how we read those genres down to the present day, so how did he develop such authority in the field? Show notes here.