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This episode we will finish up the travels of Xuanzang, who circumnavigated the Indian subcontinent while he was there, spending over a decade and a half travelings, visiting important Buddhist pilgrimage sites, and studying at the feet of learned monks of India, and in particular at Nalanda monastery--a true center of learning from this period. For more, check out our blogpost page:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-122 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 122:  Journey to the West, Part 3 The courtyard at Nalanda was quiet.  Although hundreds of people were crowded in, trying to hear what was being said, they were all doing their best to be silent and still.  Only the wind or an errant bird dared speak up.  The master's voice may not have been what it once was—he was definitely getting on in years—but Silabhadra's mind was as sharp as ever. At the front of the crowd was a relatively young face from a far off land.  Xuanzang had made it to the greatest center of learning in the world, and he had been accepted as a student of perhaps the greatest sage of his era.  Here he was, receiving lessons on some of the deepest teachings of the Mahayana Buddhist sect, the very thing he had come to learn and bring home. As he watched and listened with rapt attention, the ancient teacher began to speak….   For the last two episodes, and continuing with this one, we have been covering the travels of the monk Xuanzang in the early 7th century, starting around 629 and concluding in 645.  Born during the Sui dynasty, Xuanzang felt that the translations of the Buddhist sutras available in China were insufficient—many of them had been made long ago, and often were translations of translations.  Xuanzang decided to travel to India in the hopes of getting copies in the original language to provide more accurate translations of the sutras, particularly the Mahayana sutras.  His own accounts of his journeys, even if drawn from his memory years afterwards, provide some of our most detailed contemporary evidence of the Silk Road and the people and places along the way.  After he returned, he got to work on his translations, and became quite famous.  Several of the Japanese students of Buddhism who traveled to the Tang dynasty in the 650s studied under him directly and brought his teachings back to Japan with them.  His school of “Faxiang” Buddhism became known in Japan as the Hosso sect, and was quite popular during the 7th and 8th centuries.  Xuanzang himself, known as Genjou in Japan, would continue to be venerated as an important monk in the history of Buddhism, and his travels would eventually be popularized in fantastic ways across East Asia. Over the last couple of episodes we talked about Xuanzang's illegal and harrowing departure from the Tang empire, where he had to sneak across the border into the deserts of the Western Regions.  We then covered his time traveling from Gaochang, to Suyab, and down to Balkh, in modern Afghanistan.  This was all territory under the at least nominal control of the Gokturk empire.  From Balkh he traveled to Bamyan, and then on to Kapisa, north of modern Kabul, Afghanistan.  However, after Kapisa, Xuanzang was finally entering into the northern territories of what he knew as “India”, or “Tianzhu”. Here I would note that I'm using “India” to refer not to a single country, but to the entirety of the Indian subcontinent, and all of the various kingdoms there -- including areas now part of the modern countries of Afghanistan, Pakistan, Bangladesh, and Sri Lanka.  The Sinitic characters used to denote this region are pronounced, today, as “Tianzhu”, with a rough meaning of “Center of Heaven”, but it is likely that these characters were originally pronounced in such a way that the name likely came from terms like “Sindhu” or “Induka”.  This is related to the name of the Sindh or Indus river, from which India gets its name.  Xuanzang's “Record of the Western Regions” notes that the proper pronunciation of the land should be “Indu”.  In Japan, this term was transmitted through the Sinitic characters, or kanji, and pronounced as “Tenjiku”.  Since it featured so prominently in the stories of the life of the Buddha and many of the Buddhist sutras, Tenjiku was known to the people of the Japanese archipelago as a far off place that was both real and fantastical. In the 12th century, over a thousand stories were captured for the “Konjaku Monogatarishu”, or the “Collection of Tales Old and New”, which is divided up into tales from Japan, China, and India.  In the famous 9th or 10th century story, “Taketori Monogatari”, or the “Bamboo-Cutter's Tale”, about princess Kaguya hime, one of the tasks the princess sets to her suitors is to go to India to find the begging bowl of the Buddha.  Records like those produced by Xuanzang and his fellow monks, along with the stories in the sutras, likely provided the majority of what people in the Japanese archipelago knew about India, at least to begin with. Xuanzang talks about the land of India as being divided into five distinct parts—roughly the north, south, east, west, and center.  He notes that three sides face the sea and that the Snow Mountains—aka the Himalayas—are in the north.  It is, he says, “Wide in the north and narrow in the south, in the shape of a crescent moon”.  Certainly the “Wide in the north and narrow in the south” fit the subcontinent accurately enough, and it is largely surrounded by the waters of what we know as the Indian Ocean to the west, the east, and the south.  The note about the Crescent Moon might be driven by Xuanzang's understanding of a false etymology for the term “Indus”, which he claims comes from the word for “moon”.  Rather, this term appears to refer to the Indus River, also known as the Sindh or Sindhus, which comes from an ancient word meaning something like “River” or “Stream”. Xuanzang also notes that the people of the land were divided into castes, with the Brahman caste at the top of the social hierarchy.    The land was further divided into approximately 70 different countries, according to his accounts.  This is known broadly as the Early Medieval period, in India, in which the region was divided into different kingdoms and empires that rose and fell across the subcontinent, with a total size roughly equivalent to that covered by the countries of the modern European Union.  Just like Europe, there were many different polities and different languages spoken across the land – but just as Latin was the common language in Europe, due to its use in Christianity, Sanskrit was the scholarly and religious language in much of India, and could also be used as a bridge language.  Presumably, Xuanzang understood Sanskrit to some extent as a Buddhist monk.  And, just a quick note, all of this was before the introduction of Islam, though there were other religions also practiced throughout the subcontinent, but Xuanzang was primarily focused on his Buddhist studies. Xuanzang describes India as having three distinct seasons—The hot season, the rainy season, and the cold season, in that order.  Each of these were four month long periods.  Even today, the cycle of the monsoon rains is a major impact on the life of people in South Asia.  During the rainy season, the monks themselves would retreat back to their monasteries and cease their wanderings about the countryside. This tradition, called “Vassa”, is still a central practice in many Theravada Buddhist societies such as Thailand and Laos today, where they likewise experience this kind of intensely wet monsoon season. Xuanzang goes on to give an in depth analysis of the people and customs of the Indian subcontinent, as he traveled from country to country. So, as we've done before, we'll follow his lead in describing the different locations he visited. The first country of India that Xuanzang came to was the country of Lampa, or Lamapaka, thought to be modern Laghman province in Afghanistan.  At the time it was a dependency of Kapisa.  The Snow Mountains, likely meaning the Hindu Kush, the western edge of the Himalayas, lay at its north, while the “Black Mountains” surrounded it on the other three sides.  Xuanzang mentions how the people of Lampa grow non-glutinous rice—likely something similar to basmati rice, which is more prevalent in South Asian cuisine, as compared to glutinous rice like more often used in East Asia. From Lampa he headed to Nagarahara, likely referring to a site near the Kabul River associated with the ruins of a stupa called Nagara Gundi, about 4 kilometers west of modern Jalalabad, Afghanistan.  This was another vassal city-state of Kapisa.  They were still Mahayana Buddhists, but there were other religions as well, which Xuanzang refers to as “heretical”, though I'm not entirely sure how that is meant in this context.  He does say that many of the stupas were dilapidated and in poor condition. Xuanzang was now entering areas where he likely believed the historical Buddha had once walked.  In fact, Lampa was perhaps the extent of historical Buddha's travels, according to the stories and the sutras, though this seems unlikely to have been true.  The most plausible locations for the Historical Buddha's pilgrimages were along the Ganges river, which was on the other side of the subcontinent, flowing east towards modern Kolkatta and the Bengal Bay.  However, as Buddhism spread, so, too, did stories of the Buddha's travels.  And so, as far as Xuanzang was concerned, he was following in the footsteps of the Buddha. Speaking of which, at Nagarahara, Xuanzang mentions “footprints” of the Buddha.  This is a Buddhist tradition found in many places.  Xuanzang claims that the Tathagatha, the Englightened One, or the Buddha, would fly, because when he walked the land itself shook.  Footprint shapes in rock could be said to be evidence of the Buddha's travels.  Today, in many Buddhist areas you can find footprints carved into rock conforming to stories about the Buddha, such as all the toes being of the same length, or other various signs.  These may have started out as natural depressions in the rock, or pieces of artwork, but they were believed by many to be the actual point at which the Buddha himself touched down.  There are famous examples of these footprints in Sri Lanka, Thailand, and China.  Of course there are also traditions of creating images of the footprint as an object of worship.  Images of footprints, similar to images of the Great Wheel of the Law, may have been some of the earliest images for veneration, as images of the Buddha himself did not appear until much later in the tradition.  One of the oldest such footprints in Japan is at Yakushiji temple, and dated to 753.  It was created based on a rubbing brought back by an envoy to the Tang court, while they were in Chang'an. Like Buddha footprints, there are many other images and stories that show up multiple times in different places, even in Xuanzang's own narrative.  For example, in Nagarahara Xuanzang also shares a story of a cave, where an image of the Buddha could be just barely made out on the wall – maybe maybe an old carving that had just worn away, or maybe an image that was deliberately placed in the darkness as a metaphor for finding the Buddha—finding enlightenment.  This is not an uncommon theme in Buddhism as a whole.  In any case, the story around this image was that it had been placed there to subdue a naga. Now a naga is a mythical snake-like being, and  we are told that this particular naga was the reincarnation of a man who had invoked a curse on the nearby kingdom, then threw himself from a cliff in order to become a naga and sow destruction.  As the story went, the man was indeed reborn, but before he could bring destruction, the Buddha showed up and subdued him, convincing him that this was not right.  And so the naga agreed to stay in the cave, where the Buddha left an image—a shadow—to remind the naga any time that its thoughts might turn to destruction. Later in his travels, at a place name Kausambi, Xuanzang mentions another cave where the Buddha had subdued a venomous dragon and left his shadow on the cave wall.  Allowing for the possibility that the Buddha just had a particular M.O. when dealing with destructive beings, we should also consider the possibility that the story developed in one region—probably closer to the early center of Buddhism, and then traveled outward, such that it was later adopted and adapted to local traditions.  From Nagarahara, Xuanzang continued to the country of Gandhara and its capital city of Purushapura, aka modern Peshwar.  This kingdom was also under vassalage to the Kapisan king.  Here and elsewhere in the journey, Xuanzang notes not only evidence of the historical Buddha, but also monasteries and stupas purported to have been built by King Kanishka and King Asoka.  These were important figures who were held in high regard for spreading Buddhism during their reign.  Continuing through the region of Gandhara, he also passed through Udakhand and the city of Salatura, known as the birthplace of the ancient Sanskrit grammarian, Daksiputra Panini, author of the Astadhyayi [Aestudjayi].  This work is the oldest surviving description of classical Sanskrit, and used grammatical and other concepts that wouldn't be introduced into Western linguistics for eons.  Daksiputra Panini thrived around the 5th or 4th century BCE, but was likely one of the reasons that Sanskrit continued to be used as a language of scholarship and learning even as it died out of usage as the day to day language of the common people.  His works and legacy would have been invaluable to translators like Xuanzang in understanding and translating from Sanskrit. Xuanzang continued on his journey to Kashmira, situated in the Kashmir Valley.  This valley sits between the modern states of Pakistan and India, and its ownership is actively disputed by each.  It is the namesake of the famous cashmere wool—wool from the winter coats of a type of goat that was bred in the mountainous regions.  The winter coat would be made of soft, downy fibers and would naturally fall out in the spring, which the goatherds harvested and made into an extremely fine wool.  In the 7th century and earlier, however, the region was known not as much for its wool, but as a center for Hindu and Buddhist studies.  Xuanzang ended up spending two years in Kashmira studying with teachers there.  Eventually, though, he continued on, passing through the country of Rajpura, and continuing on to Takka and the city of Sakala—modern day Sialkot in the Punjab region of modern Pakistan.  Leaving Sakala, he was traveling with a group when suddenly disaster struck and they were accosted by a group of bandits.  They took the clothes and money of Xuanzang and those with him and then they drove the group into a dry pond in an attempt to corral them while they figured out what they would do—presumably meaning kill them all.  Fortunately for the group, there was a water drain at the southern edge of the pond large enough for one man to pass through.  Xuanzang and one other went through the gap and they were able to escape to a nearby village.  Once they got there, they told the people what had happened, and the villagers quickly gathered weapons and ran out to confront the brigands, who saw a large group coming and ran away.  Thus they were able to rescue the rest of Xuanzang's traveling companions.  Xuanzang's companions were devastated, having lost all of their possessions.  However, Xuanzang comforted them.  After all, they still had their lives.  By this time, Xuanzang had certainly seen his fair share of life and death problems along the road.  They continued on, still in the country of Takka, to the next great city.  There they met a Brahman, and once they told him what had happened, he started marshalling the forces of the city on their behalf.  During Xuanzang's stay in Kashmira, he had built a reputation, and people knew of the quote-unquote “Chinese monk”.  And even though the people in this region were not necessarily Buddhist—many were “heretics” likely referring to those of Hindu faith—the people responded to this pre-Internet “GoFundMe” request with incredible generosity.  They brought Xuanzang food and cloth to make into suits of clothes.  Xuanzang distributed this to his travel companions, and ended up still having enough cloth for 50 suits of clothes himself.  He then stayed at that city a month. It is odd that they don't seem to mention the name of this location.  Perhaps there is something unspeakable about it?  Still, it seems that they were quite generous, even if they were “heretics” according to Xuanzang. From the country of Takka, he next proceeded to the kingdom of Cinabhukti, where he spent 14 months—just over a year—studying with the monks there.  Once he had learned what he could, he proceeded onwards, passing through several countries in northern India until he came to the headwaters of the sacred Ganges rivers.  The Indus and the Ganges rivers are in many ways similar to the Yellow River and Yangzi, at least in regards to their importance to the people of India.  However, whereas the Yellow River and Yangzi both flow east towards the Pacific Ocean, the Indus and Ganges flow in opposite directions.  The Indus flows southwest, from the Himalayas down through modern India into modern Pakistan, emptying into the western Indian Ocean.  The Ganges flows east along the base of the Himalayas and enters the eastern Indian Ocean at Kolkatta.   At the headwaters of the Ganges, Xuanzang found a Buddhist monk named Jayagupta and chose to spend the winter and half of the following spring listening to his sermons and learning at his feet. From there he continued his travels, and ended up being summoned by King Harshavardhana of Kanyakubja, known today as the modern city of Kannauj.  Harshavardhana ruled an immense state that covered much of the territory around the sacred Ganges river.  As word of this strange monk from a far off land reached him, the King wanted to see him for himself.  Xuanzang stayed in Kannauj for three months, completing his studies of the Vibhasha Shastra, aka the Abhidarmma Mahavibhasha Shastra, known in Japanese as the Abidatsuma Daibibasharon, or just as the Daibibasharon or the Basharon, with the latter two terms referring to the translations that Xuanzang performed.   This work is not a sutra, per se, but rather an encyclopedic work that attempted to speak on all of the various doctrinal issues of its day.  It is thought to have been authored around 150 CE, and was influential in the Buddhist teachings of Kashmira, when that was a center of Orthodoxy at the time.  This is what Xuanzang had started studying, and it seems that in Kannauj he was finally able to grasp everything he felt he needed to know about it in order to effectively translate it and teach it when he returned.  That said, his quest was not over.  And after his time in Kannauj, he decided to continue on. His next stop was at the city of Ayodhya.  This was—and is—a city of particular importance in Hindu traditions.  It is said to be the city mentioned in the epic tale known as the Ramayana, though many argue that it was simply named that later in honor of that ancient city.  It does appear to be a city that the historical Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama, visited and where he preached.  It was also the home of a famous monk from Gandhara who authored a number of Buddhist tomes and was considered, at least by Xuanzang, a proper Boddhisatva.  And so Xuanzang spent some time paying homage to the places where the Buddha and other holy figures had once walked. “Ayodhya” appears in many forms across Asia.  It is a major pilgrimage center, and the city of “Ayutthaya” in Thailand was named for it, evoking the Ramayana—known in Thai as the Ramakien—which they would adopt as their own national story.  In Silla, there is a story that queen Boju, aka Heo Hwang-ok, wife to the 2nd century King Suro of Geumgwan Gaya, traveled to the peninsula all the way from the foreign country of “Ayuta”, thought to mean Ayodhya.  Her story was written down in the Gaya histories and survives as a fragment found in the Samguk Yusa.  Members of the Gimhae Kim, Gimhae Heo, and Incheon Yi clans all trace their lineage back to her and King Suro. From Ayodhya, Xuanzang took a trip down the Ganges river.  The boat was packed to bursting with some 80 other travelers, and as they traveled towards a particularly heavily forested area, they were set upon by bandits, who rowed their ships out from hiding in the trees and forced the travelers to the shore.  There the bandits made all the travelers strip down and take off their clothing so that the bandits could search for gold or valuables.  According to Xuanzang's biography, these bandits were followers of Durga, a Hindu warrior-goddess, and it is said that each year they would look for someone of particularly handsome features to sacrifice to her.  With Xuanzang's foreign features, they chose him.  And so they took him to be killed.  Xuanzang mentioned that he was on a pilgrimage, and that by interrupting him before they finished he was worried it might be inauspicious for them, but he didn't put up a fight and merely asked to be given time to meditate and calm his mind and that they perform the execution quickly so that he wouldn't even notice. From there, according to the story, a series of miracles occurred that ended up with Xuanzang being released and the bandits worshipping at his feet.  It is times like this we must remember that this biography was being written by Xuanzang's students based on stories he told them about his travels.  While being accosted by bandits on the river strikes me as perfectly plausible, we don't necessarily have the most reliable narrators, so I'm going to have to wonder about the rest.  Speaking of unreliable narration, the exact route that Xuanzang traveled from here on is unclear to me, based on his stated goals and where he was going.  It is possible that he was wandering as opportunities presented themselves —I don't know that he had any kind of map or GPS, like we've said in the past.  And it may be that the routes from one place to another were not always straightforward.  Regardless, he seems to wander southeast for a period before turning again to the north and eventually reaching the city of Shravasti. Shravasti appeared in our discussion of the men of Tukhara in Episode 119.  With the men of Tukhara there was also mentioned a woman from Shravasti.  While it is unlikely that was actually the case—the names were probably about individuals from the Ryukyuan island chain rather than from India—it is probably worth nothing that Shravasti was a thriving place in ancient times.  It was at one time the capital city of the kingdom of Kosala, sharing that distinction with the city of Ayodhya, back in the 7th to 5th centuries BCE.  It is also where the historical Buddha, Siddhartha Gautama, was said to have spend many years of his life.  This latter fact would have no doubt made it a place of particular importance to Xuanzang on his journeys. From there he traveled east, ending up following the foothills of the Himalayas, and finally came to some of the most central pilgrimages sites for followers of the historical Buddha.  First, he reached Lumbini wood, in modern Nepal, said to have been the birthplace of Prince Siddhartha Gautama, the Buddha.  And then he visited Kushinagara, the site where the Buddha ascended to nirvana—in other words, the place where he passed away.  From there, he traveled to Varanasi, and the deer park monastery, at the place where the Buddha is said to have given one of his most famous sermons.  He even visited the Bodhi tree, the tree under which Siddhartha Gautama is said to have attained enlightenment.  He spent eight or nine days there at Bodhgaya, and word must have spread about his arrival, because several monks from the eminent Nalanda Monastery called upon him and asked him to come to the monastery with them. Nalanda Monastery was about 80 km from Bodhgaya.  This was a grand monastery and center of learning—some say that it was, for a time, the greatest in the world.  It had been founded in the 5th century by the Gupta dynasty, and many of the Gupta rulers and others donated to support the monastery, which also acted as a university.  After the fall of the Gupta dynasty, the monastery was supported by King Harsha of Kannauj, whom Xuanzang had visited earlier.  It ultimately thrived for some 750 years, and is considered by some to be the oldest residential university—meaning that students would come to the temple complex and stay in residence for years at a time to study.  According to Xuanzang, Nalanda hosted some 10,000 monks. Including hosts and guests.  They didn't only study Buddhist teachings, but also logic, grammar, medicine, and divination.  Lectures were given at more than 100 separate places—or classrooms—every day.  It was at Nalanda, that Xuanzang would meet the teacher Silabhadra, who was known as the Right Dharma Store.  Xuanzang requested that he be allowed to study the Yogacharabhumi Shastra—the Yugashijiron, in Japanese.  This is the work that Xuanzang is said to have been most interested in, and one of the works that he is credited with bringing back in one of the first full translations to the Tang dynasty and then to others in East Asia.  It is an encyclopedic work dedicated to the various forms of Yogacara practice, which focuses on the mental disciplines, and includes yoga and meditation practices.  It has a huge influence on nearly all Mahayana schools, including things like the famous Zen and Pure Land schools of Buddhism.  The Yogacharabhumi Shastra is the earliest such encyclopedic work, compiled between the 3rd and 5th centuries—so even if the monk Faxian had brought portions of it back, it was probably not in the final form that Xuanzang was able to access. Silabhadra, for his part, was an ancient teacher—some put his age at 106 years, and his son was in his 70s.  He was one of the few at Nalandra who supposedly knew all of the various texts that they had at the monastery, including the Yogacarabhumi Shastra.  Xuanzang seems to have been quite pleased to study under him.  Xuanzang stayed at the house of Silabhadra's son, Buddhabhadra, and they welcomed him with entertainment that lasted seven days.  We are told that he was then given his own lodgings, a stipend of spices, incense, rice, oil, butter, and milk, along with a servant and a Brahman.  As a visiting monk, he was not responsible for the normal monastic duties, instead being expected to spend the time in study.  Going out, he was carried around by an elephant.   This was certainly the royal treatment. Xuanzang's life at Nalandra wasn't all books: south of the monastery was the city of Rajagrha, the old capital of the kingdom of Magadha, where the ancient Gupta kings had once lived, and on occasional breaks from his studies, Xuanzang would venture out to see the various holy sites.  This included the famous Mt. Grdhrakuta, or Vulture Peak, a location said to be favored by the historical Buddha and central to the Lotus Sutra, arguably the founding document of Mahayana Buddhist tradition. After all, “Mahayana” means “Greater Vehicle” and it is in the Lotus Sutra that we see the metaphor of using different vehicles to escape a burning house.   We've already talked a bit about how the image of Vulture Peak had already become important in Japanese Buddhism: In Episode 112 we talked about how in 648, Abe no Oho-omi had drums piled up at Shitennoji in the shape of Vulture Peak. But although the sightseeing definitely enhanced his experience, Xuanzang was first and foremost there to study.  He spent 15 months just listening to his teacher expound on the Yogacarabhumi Shastra, but he also heard expositions on various other teachings as well.  He ended up studying at Nalandra Monastery for 5 years, gaining a much better understanding of Sanskrit and the various texts, which would be critically important when it came to translating them, later. But, Xuanzang was not one to stay in any one place forever, and so after 5 years—some 8 years or more into his journey, he continued on, following the Ganges east, to modern Bangladesh.  Here he heard about various other lands, such as Dvarapati—possibly referring to Dvaravati, in modern Thailand, as well as Kamalanka and Isanapura.  The latter was in modern Cambodia, the capital of the ancient Chenla kingdom.  Then Mahacampa—possibly referring to the Champa region of Vietnam—and the country of Yamanadvipa.  But there was still more of India for Xuanzang to discover, and more teachings to uncover, and so Xuanzang decided instead to head southwest, following the coast.  He heard of the country of Sinhala, referring to the island of Sri Lanka, but he was urged not to go by ship, as the long journey was perilous.  Instead he could stay on relatively dry land and head down to the southern tip of the subcontinent and then make a quick hop from there across to the island.  He traveled a long distance, all the way down to Kancipuram, the seat of the Pallava dynasty, near modern day Chennai.  From the seaport near Kancipuram, it was only three days to Sinhala—that is to say Sri Lanka—but before he could set out, he met a group of monks who had just arrived.  They told him that the king of Sinhala had died , and there was a great famine and civil disturbances.  So they had fled with some 300 other monks. Xuanzang eventually decided not to make the journey, but he did talk with the monks and gathered information on the lands to the south, on Sri Lanka, and on the islands south of that, by which I suspect he may have meant the Maldives.  While Sri Lanka is an area important to Buddhist scholarship, particularly to the Theravada schools, this likely did not impress Xuanzang, and indeed he seemed to feel that his studies in Nalanda had more than provided him what he needed.  Sri Lanka, however, is the source of the Pali canon, one of the most complete early canons of Buddhism, which had a huge influence on Theravada Buddhism in Southeast Asia and elsewhere. So Xuanzang took plenty of notes but decided to forego the ocean voyage and headed northwest, instead.  He traveled across the breadth of India to Gujarat, and then turned back east, returning to pay respects once more to his teacher in Nalanda.  While there he heard of another virtuous monk named Prajnabhadra at a nearby monastery.  And so he went to spend several months with him, as well.  He also studied with a layman, Sastrin Jayasena, at Stickwood Hill.  Jayasena was a ksatriya, or nobleman, by birth, and studied both Buddhist and non-Buddhist texts.  He was courted by kings, but had left to continue his studies.  Xuanzang studied with him for another couple of years. Xuanzang remained at Nalanda, learning and teaching, expounding on what he had learned and gathering many copies of the various documents that he wished to take back with him, though he wondered how he might do it.  In the meantime, he also acquired quite the reputation.  We are told that King Siladitya had asked Nalanda for monks who could refute Theravada teachings, and Xuanzang agreed to go.  It isn't clear, but it seems that “Siladitya” was a title, and likely referred to King Harsha of Kannauj, whom we mentioned earlier.  Since he was a foreigner, then there could be no trouble that was brought on Nalanda and the other monks if he did poorly.  While he was waiting to hear back from Siladitya's court, which was apparently taking time to arrange things, the king of Kamarupta reached out to Nalanda with a request that Xuanzang come visit them.  While Xuanzang was reluctant to be gone too long, he was eventually encouraged to go and assuage the king. Kamarupta was a kingdom around the modern Assam region, ruled by King Bhaskaravarman, also known as King Kumara, a royal title.  This kingdom included parts of Bangladesh, Bhutan, and Nepal.  Bhaskaravarman, like so many other regents, seems to have been intrigued by the presence of this foreign monk, who had traveled all this way and who had studied at the famous Nalanda Monastery in Magadha. He invited Xuanzang to come to him.  Xuanzang's teacher, Silabhadra, had exhorted him to spread the right Dharma, and to even go to those non-Buddhists in hopes that they might be converted, or at least partially swayed. King Bhaskaravarman was quite taken with Xuanzang, wining and dining him while listening to him preach.  While there, Xuanzang learned about the country of Kamarupta.  He also learned about a path north, by which it was said it was a two month journey to arrive at the land of Shu, in the Sichuan Basin, on the upper reaches of the Yangzi – a kind of shortcut back to the Tang court.  However, the journey was treacherous—possibly even more treacherous than the journey to India had been. Eventually word reached the ears of King Siladitya that Xuanzang was at the court of King Bhaskaravarman, and Siladitya got quite upset.  Xuanzang had not yet come to *his* court, so Siladitya demanded that Bhaskaravarman send the monk to him immediately.  Bhaskaravarman refused, saying he'd rather give Siladitya his own head, which Siladitya said he would gladly accept.  Bhaskaravarman realized he may have miscalculated, and so he sailed up the Ganges with a host of men and Xuanzang to meet with Siladitya.  After a bit of posturing, Siladitya met with Xuanzang, who went with him, and eventually confronted the members of the Theravada sect in debate.  Apparently it almost got ugly, but for the King's intervention.  After a particularly devastating critique of the Theravada position, the Theravada monks are blamed for trying to use violence against Xuanzang and his fellow Mahayana monks from Nalanda, who were prepared to defend themselves.  The King had to step in and break it up before it went too far. Ultimately, Xuanzang was a celebrity at this point and both kings seem to have supported him, especially as he was realizing it was about time to head back to his own country.  Both kings was offered ships, should Xuanzang wish to sail south and then up the coast.  However, Xuanzang elected to take the northern route, hoping to go back through Gaochang, and see that city and its ruler again.  And so the Kings gave him money and valuables , along with wagons for all of the texts.  They also sent an army to protect all of the treasures, and even an elephant and more – sending him back in style with a huge send-off. So Xuanzang retraced his earlier steps, this time on an elephant.  He traveled back to Taxila, to Kashmir, and beyond.  He was invited to stay in Kashmira, but because of his retinue, he wasn't quite at leisure to just go where he wanted.  At one point, near Kapisa—modern Bagram, north of Kabul—they had to cross a river, and about 50 of the almost 700 documents were lost.  The King of Kapisa heard of this and had his own monks make copies to replace them based on their own schools.  The King of Kasmira, hearing that he was in Kapisa, also came to pay his respects. Xuanzang traveled with the King of Kapisa northwest for over a month and reached Lampaka, where he did take some time to visit the various holy sites before continuing northwest.  They had to cross the Snow Mountains—the outskirts of the Himalayas, and even though it wasn't the highest part of the range it was still challenging.  He had to dismount his elephant and travel on foot.  Finally, after going over the high mountains and coming down, he arrived back in the region of Tukhara, in the country of Khowst.  He then came to Kunduz, and paid his respects to the grandson of Yehu Khan.  He was given more guards to escort him eastward, traveling with some merchants.  This was back in Gokturk controlled lands, over a decade later than when he had last visited.  He continued east to Badakshan, stopping there for a month because of the cold weather and snow.  He eventually traveled through the regions of Tukhara and over the Pamir range.  He came down on the side of the Tarim Basin, and noted how the rivers on one side flowed west, while on the other side they flowed east.  The goings were treacherous, and at one point they were beset by bandits.  Though he and the documents were safe, his elephant panicked and fled into the river and drowned.  He eventually ended up in the country of Kashgar, in modern Xinjiang province, at the western edge of the Taklamakan desert. From there he had two options.  He could go north and hug the southern edge of the Tianshan mountains, or he could stay to the south, along the northern edge of the Himalayan range and the Tibetan plateau.  He chose to go south.  He traveled through Khotan, a land of wool and carpets.  This was a major trade kingdom, and they also grew mulberry trees for silkworms, and were known for their jade.  The king himself heard of Xuanzang and welcomed him, as many others had done.  While he was staying at the Khotanese capital, Xuanzang penned a letter to the Tang court, letting them know of his journey, and that he was returning.  He sent it with some merchants and a man of Gaochang to deliver it to the court. Remember, Xuanzang had left the Tang empire illegally.  Unless he wanted to sneak back in his best hope was that the court was willing to forgive and forget all of that, given everything that he was bringing back with him.  The wait was no doubt agonizing, but he did get a letter back.  It assured him that he was welcome back, and that all of the kingdoms from Khotan back to the governor of Dunhuang had been made aware and were ready to receive him. With such assurances, Xuanzang packed up and headed out.  The king of Khotan granted him more gifts to help see him on his way.  Nonetheless, there was still a perilous journey ahead.  Even knowing the way, the road went through miles and miles of desert, such that in some places you could only tell the trail by the bleached bones of horses and travelers who had not been so fortunate.  Eventually, however, Xuanzang made it to the Jumo River and then on to Dunhuang, from whence he was eventually escorted back to the capital city. It was now the year 645, the year of the Isshi Incident in Yamato and the death of Soga.  Xuanzang had been gone for approximately 16 years.  In that time, the Tang had defeated the Gokturks and taken Gaochang, expanding their control over the trade routes in the desert.  Xuanzang, for his part, was bringing back 657 scriptures, bound in 520 bundles carried by a train of some 20 horses.  He was given a hero's welcome, and eventually he would be set up in a monastery where he could begin the next part of his journey:  Translating all of these books. This was the work of a lifetime, but it is one that would have a profound impact on Buddhism across East Asia.  Xuanzang's translations would revolutionize the understanding of Mahayana Buddhist teachings, and students would come from as far away as the Yamato court to study under him and learn from the teacher who studied and taught at none other than Nalanda monastery itself.  His school would become popular in the Yamato capital, and the main school of several temples, at least for a time.  In addition, his accounts and his biography would introduce many people to the wider world of central and south Asia.  While I could go on, this has already been a story in three parts, and this is, after all, the Chronicles of Japan, so we should probably tune back into what is going on with Yamato.  Next episode, we'll look at one of the most detailed accounts we have of a mission to Chang'an. Until then, I hope that this has been enjoyable.  Xuanzang's story is one of those that isn't just about him, but about the interconnected nature of the entire world at the time.  While his journey is quite epic, there were many people traveling the roads, though most of them didn't write about it afterwards.  People, artifacts, and ideas traveled much greater distances than we often consider at this time, well before any kind of modern travel.  It was dangerous, but often lucrative, and it meant that various regions could have influence well beyond what one might expect. And so, 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

This episode we continue to follow the monk Xuanzang on his path along the silk road.  From Gaochang, he traveled through the Tarim Basin, up over the Tianshan Mountains, to the heart of the Western Gokturk Qaghanate.  From there, he traveled south, through the region of Transoxania to Bactria and the land of Tukhara.  He pushed on into the Hindu Kush, witnessing the stone Buddha statues of Bamiyan, and eventually made his way to the land of Kapisa, near modern Kabul, Afghanistan.  From there he would prepare to enter the Indian subcontinent: the home of the historical Buddha. For more discussion and some photos of the areas along this journey, check out our podcast blog at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-121   Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is Episode 121: Journey to the West, Part 2   The cold winds blew through the travelers' doubled up clothing and thick furs.  Cold, wet ground meant that even two sets of boots were not necessarily enough after several days.  The frozen mist would often obscure everything except for the path immediately in front, hiding the peaks and making the sky a uniform white. In many places, the path would be blocked by rock, ice, or snow—the remnants of an avalanche, which could easily take an unsuspecting traveler.  And there was the elevation.  Hiking through the mountains, it was easy enough to reach heights of a mile or higher, and for those not accustomed to that elevation the thin air could take a surprising toll, especially if you were pushing yourself.  And the road was no less kind to the animals that would be hauling said travelers and their gear. And yet, this was the path that Xuanzang had agreed to.  He would continue to push through, despite the various deprivations that he would be subjected to.  No doubt he often wondered if it was worth it.  Then again, returning was just as dangerous a trip, so why not push on?   Last episode we introduced the monk Xuanzang, who traveled the Silk Road to India in the 7th century and returned to China.  He brought back numerous sutras to translate, and ended up founding a new school, known as the Faxian school—or the Hossou school in Japan.   As we mentioned last time, Xuanzang during his lifetime met with students from the archipelago when they visited the continent.  The records of his travels—including his biography and travelogue—are some of the best information we have on what life was like on the silk road around this time. In the last episode, we talked about Xuanzang: how he set out on his travels, his illegal departure from the Tang empire, and his perilous journey across the desert, ending up in Gaochang.  There, King Qu Wentai had tried to get him to stay, but he was determined to head out.  This episode we are going to cover his trip to Agni, Kucha, and Baluka—modern Aksu—and up to the Western Gokturk Qaghanate's capital of Suyab.  From there, we'll follow his footsteps through the Turkic controlled regions of Transoxania and into Tukhara, in modern Afghanistan.  Finally, we'll cover the last parts of his journey before he reached the start of his goal:  India. From Gaochang, Xuanzang continued on, through the towns he names as Wuban and Dujin, and into the country of Agni—known today as the area of Yanqi—which may also have been known as Wuqi.  The route was well-enough known, but it wasn't necessarily safe.  At one point, Xuanzang's caravan met with bandits, whom they were fortunately able to pay off.  The following night they encamped on a river bank with some merchants who also happened to be traveling the road.  The merchants, though, got up at midnight and headed out, hoping to get to the city early so that they could be the first ones to the market.  They only made it a few miles down the road, however, before they encountered more bandits, who slaughtered them and took their goods.  The following day, Xuanzang and his retinue came upon the merchants' remains lying in the road and saw the aftermath of the massacre. This was an unforgiving land, and the road was truly dangerous, even for those who traveled it regularly.  And yet Xuanzang was planning to travel its entire length until he reached India. So with little alternative, they carried on to the royal city of Agni. Agni, or Yanqi, sits on the southwestern edge of the basin, west of Bositeng lake, on the border between the Turfan basin and the larger Tarim Basin.  The name is thought to be a Tocharian—or Turfanian—name for the city, which is also known as Karashr. According to the biography by Huili, Xuanzang and his party didn't stay long in Agni.  Apparently Agni and Gaochang were not exactly on friendly terms, and even though the King of Agni and his ministers reportedly came out to greet Xuanzang and welcome him to their city, they refused to provide any horses.  They spent a single night and moved on. That said, Agni still made an impression on Xuanzang.  He noted how the capital was surrounded by hills on four sides, making it naturally defensible.  As for the people, he praises them as honest and straightforward.  They wore clothing of felt and hemp cloth, and cut their hair short, without hats or any kind of headwear.  Even the climate was pleasant, at least for the short time he was there.  He also notes that they used a script based on India—likely referring to the Brahmic script, which we find in the Tarim basin. However, as for the local lord, the King of Agni, he is a little less charitable.  Xuanzang claimed he was brave but “lacked resourcefulness” and he was a bit of a braggart.  Furthermore, the country had “no guiding principles or discipline and government orders are imperfect and not seriously implemented.”  He also mentioned the state of Buddhism in the country, noting that they were followers of Sarvastivada school, a Theravada sect popular along the Silk Road at the time.  Xuanzang was apparently not too pleased with the fact that they were not strict vegetarians, including the “three kinds of pure meat”.  From Agni, Xuanzang continued southwest, heading for the kingdom of Kucha.  He seems to have bypassed the nearby kingdom of Korla, south of Agni, and headed some 60 or 70 miles, climbing over a ridge and crossing two large rivers, and then proceeding another 200 miles or so to the land of Kucha. Kucha was a kingdom with over one hundred monasteries and five thousand monks following a form of Theravada Buddhism.  Here, Xuanzang was welcomed in by the king, Suvarnadeva, described as having red hair and blue eyes.  While Xuanzang was staying in Kucha, it is suspected that he probably visited the nearby Kizil grotto and the Buddhist caves, there, which include a painting of King Suvarnadeva's father, King Suvarnapuspa, and his three sons. You can still visit Kucha and the Kizil grottos today, although getting there is quite a trek, to be sure.  The ancient Kuchean capital is mostly ruins, but in the Kizil caves, protected from the outside elements, you can find vivid paintings ranging from roughly the 4th to the 8th century, when the site was abandoned.  Hundreds of caves were painted, and many still demonstrate vibrant colors.  The arid conditions protect them from mold and mildew, while the cave itself reduces the natural bleaching effect of sunlight.  The paintings are in numerous styles, and were commissioned by various individuals and groups over the years.  They also give us some inkling of how vibrant the city and similar structures must have been, back when the Kuchean kingdom was in its heyday. The people of Kucha are still something of a mystery.  We know that at least some of them spoke an Indo-European language, related to a language found in Agni, and both of these languages are often called Tocharian, which we discussed last episode.  Xuanzang himself noted that they used Indian writing, possibly referring to the Brahmi script, or perhaps the fact that they seem to have used Sanskrit for official purposes, such as the inscription on the cave painting at Kizil giving the name of King Suvarnapuspa.  The Kucheans also were clothed in ornamental garments of silk and embroidery.  They kept their hair cut, wearing a flowing covering over their heads—and we see some of that in the paintings. Xuanzang also notes that though we may think of this area as a desert, it was a place where rice and grains, as well as fruit like grapes, pomegranates, plums, pears, peaches, and almonds were grown.  Even today, modern Xinjiang grows some absolutely fantastic fruit, including grapes, which are often dried into raisins. Another point of interest for Xuanzang may have been that Kucha is known as the hometown of none other than Kumarajiva.  We first mentioned Kumarajiva back in episode 84.  Kumarajiva was one of the first people we know of who translated many of the sutras from India that were then more widely disseminated throughout the Yellow River and Yangzi river basins.  His father was from India and his mother was a Kuchean princess.  In the middle of the 4th century, when he was still quite young, he traveled to India and back with his mother on a Buddhist pilgrimage.  Later he would start a massive translation project in Chang'an.  His translations are credited with revolutionizing Chinese Buddhism. Xuanzang was initially welcomed by the king, his ministers, and the revered monk, Moksagupta.  They were accompanied by several thousand monks who set up tents outside the eastern gate, with portable Buddha images, which they worshipped, and then Xuanzang was taken to monastery after monastery until sunset.  At one of the monasteries, in the southeast of the city, there were several tens of monks who originally came from Gaochang, and since Xuanzang had come from there, they invited him to stay with them. The next day he met and feasted with the King, politely declining any meat, and then went to the monastery in the northwest to meet with the famous monk: Moksagupta.  Moksagupta himself had made the journey to India, and had spent 20 years there himself.  It seems like this would have been the perfect person for Xuanzang to talk to about his plans, but instead, the two butted heads.  Moksagupta seems to have seen Xuanzang's Mahayana faith as heretical.  He saw no reason for Xuanzang to travel all the way to India when he had all the sutras that anyone needed there in Kucha, along with Moksagupta himself.   Xuanzang's response seems to have been the Tang dynasty Buddhist version of “Okay, Boomer”, and then he went ahead and tore apart Moksagupta's understanding of his own sutras—or so Xuanzang relayed to his biographers.  We don't exactly have Moksagupta's side, and, let's face it, Xuanzang and his biographers are not necessarily reliable narrators.  After all, they followed Mahayana teachings, which they considered the “Greater Vehicle”, and they referred to the Theravada teachings as the “Hinayana” or “Lesser Vehicle”.  Meanwhile, Theravada Buddhists likely saw many of the Mahayana texts as extraneous, even heretical, not believing them to actually be the teachings of the Buddha. It must have been winter time, as the passes through the mountains on the road ahead were still closed, and so Xuanzang stayed in Kucha, spending his time sightseeing and meeting with various people.  He even went back to see Moksagupta, but the older monk shunned him, and would get up and exit the room rather than engaging with him, so they had no more conversations. Eventually, Xuanzang continued on his way west, following along the northern rim of the Tarim basin.  Two days out from Kucha, disaster struck.  Some two thousand or so Turkish bandits suddenly appeared—I doubt Xuanzang was counting, so it may have been more or less.  I imagine that memories of what had happened to the merchants near Agni must have gone through Xuanzang's mind.   Fortunately, for him, they were fighting over loot that they had pillaged from various travelers, and since they couldn't share it equally, they fell to fighting each other and eventually dispersed. He travelled for almost 200 miles after that, stopping only for a night at the Kingdom of Baluka, aka Gumo—the modern city of Aksu.  This was another Theravada Buddhist kingdom.  Xuanzang noted tens of Buddhist temples, and over 1000 Buddhist monks.  The country was not large—about 200 miles east to west and 100 miles north to south.  For reference that means it was probably comparable in size with Kyushu, in terms of overall area, or maybe the size of Denmark—excluding Greenland—or maybe the US state of Maryland.  Xuanzang described the country as similar to Kucha in just about every way, including the written language and law, but the spoken language was different, though we don't get many more details. From Baluka, he crossed northward through the Tianshan mountains, which are classified as an extension of the Pamirs known as the Ice Mountains.  Had he continued southwest, he would have hit Kashgar and crossed over between the Pamir and Tian Shan ranges into the Ferghana valley, but instead he turned north. We don't know exactly why he took this perilous option, but the route that may have been popular at the time as it was one of the most direct routes to the seat of the Western Gokturk Empire, which he was currently traveling through. The Tian Shan mountains were a dangerous journey.  Avalanches could block the road—or worse.  Xuanzang describes the permanent ice fields—indeed, it is the ice fields and glaciers of the Tian Shan that melt in the summer and provide the oasis towns of the Tarim Basin with water, even to this day.  In Xuanzang's day, those glaciers were likely even more prevalent than today, especially as they have been recorded as rapidly disappearing since 1961.  And where you weren't on snow and ice, the ground was probably wet and damp from the melt.  To keep warm, you would wear shoes over your shoes, along with heavy fur coats, all designed to reduce exposure. Xuanzang claims that 3 or 4 of every 10 people didn't survive the crossing—and that horses and oxen fared even worse.  Even if these numbers are an exaggeration, the message is clear:  This was a dangerous journey. After about seven days, Xuanzang came out of the mountains to the “Great Pure Lake”, the “Da Qing Hai”, also known as the Hot Sea or the Salt Sea, which likely refers to Issyk Kul.  The salt content, along with the great volume of water it possesses, means that the lake rarely freezes over, which is likely why it is seen as “hot” since it doesn't freeze when the fresh water nearby does.  This lake is the second largest mountain lake in the world, and the second deepest saltwater lake.  Traveling past the lake, he continued to Suyab, near modern Tokmok, in Kyrgyzstan, just west of the modern capital of Bishkek.  This was an old Sogdian settlement, and had since become the capital of the Western Gokturks.  Sogdians—like Xuanzang's guide, Vandak—were integral to the Gokturk kingdom. Their language was the lingua franca of the Silk Road, and at the time of the Gokturk Khaganate, it was also the official court language, and so when Xuanzang appeared at the court of the Great Khagan of the Western Gokturks, it was likely the language of diplomacy. When we think of Turkic people, many in the English speaking world think of Turkiye, and perhaps of the mighty Ottoman empire.  Some may think of Turkmenistan, Kazhakstan, Kyrgyzstan, or Uzbekistan, among others.  And of course, there are the Uyghur people in Xinjiang.  All of these people claim roots in the ancestral Turkic homeland in the Altai mountains, which sit largely in western Mongolia, north of China's Xinjiang region.  Much like the Xiongnu and the Mongols, they were pastoral nomads, moving their herds across the steppes, often covering great distances.  They would regularly move through different regions, perhaps returning each season, though sometimes not returning for years at a time.  They were often seen as barbarians by settled people living in cities, and yet their goods and horses were highly prized. Nomad and sedentary lifestyles would often collide.  Farmers would turn pastureland into fields, and when the nomadic people returned on their circuits, they would find walls and fences where there was once open land, and the people there would claim to “own” the land, a concept often foreign to people who were always on the move.  Nomadic people, such as the Gokturks, were not necessarily keeping vast libraries of records about themselves and their histories, and so much of what we get comes from external sources, which do not always have incredibly reliable narrators.  To many of the settled agriculturalists, groups like the Turks were marauders who raided their villages and farms.  They were a great bogeyman of the steppes, which required the firm hand of strong defenses to keep out—or so their opponents would want people to think. While they were known for their warfare, which incorporated their mobility, but they were keenly interested in trade, as well.  They understood the value of the trade routes and the various cities and states that they included in their empire.  Thus, the Sogdians and the Gokturks seem a natural fit: the Sogdians were more settled, but not entirely so, as demonstrated by their vast trade networks.  And the Sogdians also were part of the greater central Eurasian steppe culture, so the two cultures understood each other, to a degree.  They are even depicted similarly in art, with slight differences, such as long hair that was often associated with Turks over the Sogdians.  In some areas of the Gokturk empire, Sogdians would run the cities, while the Gokturks provided military aid and protection. Xuanzang's description of the people of Suyab, or the “City of Suye River”, doesn't pick out anyone in particular, and he even says that it was a place where traders of the Hu, or foreign, tribes from different countries mingle their abodes.  He mentions the people here as being called Suli, which is also the name given to the language—this may refer to “Sogdian” in general.  They write with an alphabet that is written vertically rather than horizontally—this may refer to a few scripts that were written this way, possibly based off Syriac or Aramaic alphabets that were adapted to Sogdian and other Iranian languages, but it isn't clear. We are told that the people dressed in felt and hemp clothing, with fur and “cotton” garments.  Their clothes fit tightly, and they kept their hair cut short, exposing the top of their heads—though sometimes they shaved it completely, tying a colored silk band around the forehead. He goes on to describe these people as greedy liars, possibly a reference to the mercantile nature of many of the people at the time. Something to note: The Turks of this time had not yet encountered Islam, which was just now starting to rise up in the Middle East.  The Prophet Muhammad is said to have been born around the end of the 6th century CE and was preaching in the early 7th century, though his teachings would begin to spread outward soon enough.  But that means that the Gokturks were not an Islamic empire.  Rather, their own traditions seem to have focused on the worship of Tengri, an Altaic personification of the universe, often simplified as a “sky god”.  Tengrism can be found amongst the Xiongnu, Mongols, and others, and it was the national religion of the Gokturks themselves, but there were many who also adopted other religions that they encountered, including Zoroastrianism, Christianity, Manichaeism, and Buddhism.  In fact, Xuanzang notes that the Turks he met in Suyab would not sleep or sit on beds made of wood because wood was thought to contain the spirit of fire, which he says they worshipped.  That sounds similar to Zoroastrian beliefs, where fire is associated with Ahura Mazda, who is also worshipped as a sky god.  These may have been beliefs inherited from their Eastern Iranian Sogdian partners. In Xuanzang's biography, we are given more details about his visit to Suyab.  Apparently, as he was headed to the city, he met a hunting party, which we are told was the retinue of Yehu Khan.  Hunting was an important part of life on the steppes, and it continued to be a favorite sport of the Gokturk nobility. Yehu Khan—possibly Yagbhu Khan, though that is up for some debate—is described as being dressed in a green silk robe, with his hair exposed, and wearing  a turban of white silk about ten feet long that wrapped his forehead and hung behind his back.  His “hunting” expedition wasn't just a couple of the guys.  It included about 200 officials, all with plaited hair and dressed in brocade robes—they weren't exactly out there roughing it.  He also had his soldiers, dressed in furs, felt, or fine woolen clothes, and there were so many cavalry that they stretched out of sight.  The Khan seemed pleased to meet Xuanzang, but his hunt was expected to last another couple of days, at least, so he sent an attendant named Dharmaja to take Xuanzang back to wait for the Khan to return. Three days later, Xuanzang was given an audience.  The khan was seated in a large yurt.  Xuanzang noted the seeming incongruity between the khan, sitting there in the tent, decorated with golden flowers, with the officials dressed in magnificent brocade garments sitting in two long rows in front of him and the armed guards behind him, compared to the simple felt walls of the tent. A ”yurt” is a common feature of nomadic life on the steppes.  It wasn't exactly a single person operation to haul them around, but they can be taken down and put up with relative ease.  And while yurts could be relatively simple, there are examples of much more elaborate structures.  There is little reason they couldn't be made larger, perhaps with some extra support.  In later centuries, there are examples of giant yurts that seem like real construction projects.  Use of tents, even in a city, where they had permanent palace buildings, was likely a means of retaining the nomadic steppe traditions, even while enjoying the benefits of city life. Whom exactly Xuanzang met with is a matter of debate.  His records seem to indicate that it was Tong Yabghu Qaghan of the Western Gokturk Khaganate, but other sources say that Tong Yabghu Qaghan died in 628, and the earliest Xuanzang could have been meeting with him was 630, two years later, so if that is the case, he must have met with Tong Yabghu's son, Si Yabghu Qaghan.  It is likely that Xuanzang, who was dictating his accounts years after, mentioned the Qaghan and then, when they looked up who it was, they simply made a mistake.  Remember, Xuanzang would have had everything translated through one or two languages.  He did know what he saw, however, and he recounted what he remembered. Tong Yabghu Qaghan oversaw the height of the Gokturk Qaghanate, and appears to have favored the Buddhist religion, though there were many different religions active in their territories at the time.  They oversaw an extremely cosmopolitan empire covering huge swaths of central Eurasia, including the lucrative silk road.  Xuanzang notes that at the court there were individuals from Gaochang and even a messenger from the Han—which is to say the Tang Empire.  One wonders if Xuanzang—or anyone at that time—realized just how tenuous the Khan'sposition was.  After Tong Yabghu's death, the Qaghanate would decline, and less than a decade later it would fall to the Tang dynasty, who took Suyab and made it their western outpost.  In fact, Suyab is thought to have been the birthplace, over a century later, of a young boy who would find a love of poetry.  That boy's name was Li Bai, or Ri Haku, in Japanese. He would become one of the most famous poets in Chinese history, and his poems were even known and studied in Japan.  And it was largely through Japanese study of Li Bai's poems that his works came to the English speaking world: first through Ernest Fenollosa, who had studied in Japan, and then by the celebrated Ezra Pound, who had used Ernest's notes to help with his own translations of the poems. This was, though, as I said, over a century after Xuanzang's journey.  At the time of our story, the Qaghan was throwing a feast, including Xuanzang and all of the foreign envoys.  Xuanzang comments on the food and drink—his hosts provided grape juice in lieu of wine, and cooked a special vegetarian feast just for him, while the other guests ate a feast of meat, such as veal, lamb, fish, and the like.  There was also the music of various regions along the Silk Road, which Xuanzang found to be catchy, but of course not as refined as the music he was used to, of course.  After dinner Xuanzang was asked to expound upon the Darma, largely about the basic principle that you should be kind to one another—I doubt he was getting into the deep mysteries of Buddhist philosophy. Xuanzang stuck around the court for three more days, during which time the Qaghan tried to get him to stay, but Xuanzang insisted that he had to make it to India.  And so the Qaghan relented.  He found men in his army who could translate for Xuanzang along his journey, and had letters of introduction written to at least as far as the state of Kapisa, in modern Afghanistan. And so, armed with the Qaghan's blessing and a fresh translator, Xuanzang struck out again.  They headed westward for over one hundred miles, eventually reaching Bingyul, aka the Thousand Springs.  This is the area where the Qaghan and his court would spend his summers, and the deer in the area were protected under his orders, so that they were not afraid of humans—which sounds similar to the situation with the deer in Nara.  Continuing on another fifty miles or so—the distances are approximate as Xuanzang's primary duty was not exactly to map all of this out—Xuanzang arrived at the city of Taras, in modern Kazakhstan, another place where the cultures of the Silk Road mixed and mingled.  Xuanzang didn't have much to say about Taraz, apparently, though it is one of the oldest cities in Transoxania, founded near the beginning of the Common Era.  A few miles south of there, Xuanzang reportedly found a village of re-settled ethnic Han that had been captured by the Gokturks and settled here.  They had adopted the dress and customs of the Turkic people, but continued to speak a version of Chinese. Southwest of that he reached the City of White Water, likely referring to Aksukent.  This is the same “Aksu” as the city in Xinjiang, both of which mean “White Water” in Turkic, but this one is in the south of Kazakhstan.  Xuanzang found the climate and products an improvement over what he had experienced in Taras.  Beyond that, he next arrived at the city of Gongyu, and then south again to Nujkend, and then traveling westward to the country of Chach, aka Tashkent.  Both Nujkend and Chach were large cities in nations of smaller, mostly autonomous city-states, which made up a lot of the political geography of Transoxania. I would note that Xuanzang's notes here are much more sparse than previously.  This may be because these were outside of the Tarim basin and therefore of less interest to individuals in the Tang empire.  Or perhaps he was just making his way more quickly and not stopping at every kingdom along the way. From Tashkent, he continued southeast to the Ferghana valley—the country of Feihan.  Oddly, this country doesn't appear in Xuanzang's biography, even though the Ferghana Valley seems to have been fairly well known back in the Tang Empire—it was known as the home of some of the best horses, which were one of its first major exports.  In fact, the Han dynasty even mounted a military expedition to travel to Ferghana just to obtain horses.  Xuanzang is oddly silent on this; however, he does talk about the fertile nature of the land.  He mentions that their language here is different from the lands he had been traveling through up to this point, and also points out that the people of the Ferghana valley were also visibly different from others in the area. From the Ferghana valley, Xuanzang headed west for about 300 miles or more to the land of Sutrushana—perhaps referring to the area of Ushrusana, with its capital of Bunjikat.  This country was also largely Sogdian, and described as similar to Tashkent.  From there, he traveled west through a great desert, passing skeletons, which were the only marker of the trail other than a view of the far off mountains.  Finally, they reached Samarkand, known as the country of “Kang” in Chinese, which was also the term used to mark Sogdians who claimed descent from the people of Samarkand. Samarkand is another of the ancient cities of Central Asia, and even today is the third largest city in modern Uzbekistan.  Human activity in the region goes back to the paleolithic era, and the city was probably founded between the 8th and 7th centuries BCE.  Samarkand was conquered by Alexander the Great, and during the Achaemenid Empire it was the capital of Sogdiana.  During Xuanzang's visit, Samarkand was described as an impenetrable fortress with a large population. For all of his travel, Samarkand was the first place Xuanzang notes as specifically not a Buddhist land.  In fact, there were two monasteries, suggesting that there had been Buddhists, but if any monks tried to stay there then the locals would chase them out with fire.  Instead, they worshipped fire—likely meaning Ahura Mazda and Zoroastrianism.  This leads to a story that I have to wonder about, given the reliability of our narrators. It is said that Xuanzang was met by the King with arrogance, but after staying the night Xuanzang was able to tell the King about Buddhism and its merits.  The king was intrigued, and asked to observe the Precepts, and treated Xuanzang with hospitality and respect.  So when two of Xuanzang's attendants went to the monasteries to worship, they were chased out with fire.  When the king heard about this, he had the people arrested and ordered their hands to be cut off.  Xuanzang could not bear to witness such suffering, however, and he intervened to have them spared.  So instead the king had them flogged and banished from the city.  Ever since then, all the people believed in Buddhism. Some parts of this strike true.  It was likely that the king would entertain this strange wanderer who had arrived with letters from the great Qaghan—that may have even explained why Xuanzang had been encouraged to make the dangerous journey to Suyab in the first place, so that he could obtain such permission.  And it would not be strange for the king to listen to his teachings.  If Xuanzang's attendants were attacked, that would have been a huge breach of hospitality, and however the King felt about it, he no doubt had to do something about it.  And so all of that sounds somewhat believable.  Does that mean everyone suddenly converted to Buddhism?  I don't know that I'm quite willing to go that far.  It is also likely that there were Buddhists there already, even if the majority religion was Zoroastrianism. From Samarkand, Xuanzang traveled farther southwest, to the country of Kasanna, which seems to have been the edge of what we might call Sogdiana.   According to his biographers, however, there was a little more to all of this.  Rather, he headed west to Kusanika.  Then he traveled to  Khargan, and further on to the country of Bukhara, and then to Vadi.  All of these were “An” in Chinese, which was the name element used for Sogdians from this region.  He then continued west to the country of Horismika, on the other side of the Amu Darya, aka the Oxus River of Transoxanian fame. From there he traveled further southwest, entering into the mountains.  The path here was often such that they had to travel single-file, and there was no food or water other than what you brought with you.  Eventually they came to a set of doors, known as the Iron Gate.  This was a Turkic fortress.  It was no doubt fortuitous that he had come from his meeting with the Qaghan, and likely had permission to pass through.  From there, they entered the country of Tukhara. As we noted in Episode 119, Tukhara was in the region of Bactria.  It was bordered by the Pamir range in the east, and the Persian empire in the west.  There were also the Great Snow Mountains in the south, likely referencing the Hindu Kush. Tukhara had been conquered by the Gokturks just within the past couple of decades, and Xuanzang notes that the country had been split into largely autonomous city-states as the local royalty had died without an heir many years before.  With the Gokturk conquest, it was now administered by Tardu Shad, the son of Tong Yabghu Qaghan.  “Shad” in this case was a local title. Here, Xuanzang's narrative gets a little dicey, especially between his biography and his records.  The records of the Western Regions denotes various countries in this area.  It is unclear if he traveled to all of them or is just recounting them from records he obtained.  He does give us at least an overview of the people and the region.  I would also note that this is one of the regions he visited, again, on his return trip, and so may have been more familiar with the region than those areas he had passed through from Suyab on down. For one thing, he notes that the language of the region was different from that of the “Suli”, which appears to refer to the Sogdians.  This was the old territory of the Kushan empire, and they largely spoke Bactrian.  Like Sogdian, it was another Eastern Iranian language, and they used an alphabet based largely on Greek, and written horizontally rather than vertically.  They also had their own coins. This region had plenty of Buddhist communities, and Xuanzang describes the cities and how many monasteries they had, though, again, it isn't clear if he actually visited all of them or not.  These are countries that Li Rongji translates as “Tirmidh”, “Sahaaniyan”, “Kharuun”, “Shuumaan”, etc. It does seem that Xuanzang made it to the capital city, the modern city Kunduz, Afghanistan. Xuanzang actually had something specific for the local Gokturk ruler, Tardu Shad.  Tardu Shad's wife was the younger sister of King Qu Wentai of Gaochang, whom we met last episode.  Qu Wentai had provided Xuanzang a letter for his younger sister and her husband.  Unfortunately, Xuanzang arrived to learn that the princess of Gaochang had passed away, and Tardu Shad's health was failing.  It does seem that Tardu Shad was aware of Xuanzang, however—a letter had already come from Qu Wentai to let them know that Xuanzang was on his way.  As I mentioned last episode, letters were an important part of how communities stayed tied together.  Of course, given the perils of the road, one assumes that multiple letters likely had to be sent just in case they didn't make it.  The US Postal Service this was not. Tardu Shad, though not feeling well, granted an interview with Xuanzang.  He suggested that Xuanzang should stick around.  Then, once the Shad had recovered from his illness, he would accompany Xuanzang personally on his trip to India.  Unfortunately, that was not to be.  While Xuanzang was staying there, he was witness to deadly drama.  Tardu Shad was recovering, which was attributed to the recitations by an Indian monk who was also there.  This outcome was not exactly what some in the court had wanted.  One of the Shad's own sons, known as the Tagin prince, plotted with the Shad's current wife, the young Khatun, and she poisoned her husband.  With the Shad dead, the throne might have gone to the son of the Gaochang princess, but he was still too young.  As such, the Tagin Prince was able to usurp the throne himself, and he married his stepmother, the young Khatun.  The funeral services for the late Tardu Shad meant that Xuanzang was obliged to stay at Ghor for over a month. During that time, Xuanzang had a seemingly pleasant interaction with an Indian monk.  And when he finally got ready to go, he asked the new Shad for a guide and horses.  He agreed, but also made the suggestion that Xuanzang should then head to Balkh.  This may have meant a bit of backtracking, but the Shad suggested that it would be worth it, as Balkh had a flourishing Buddhist community. Fortunately, there was a group of Buddhist monks from Balkh who happened to be in Kunduz to express their condolences at the passing of Tardu Shad, and they agreed to accompany Xuanzang back to their hometown, lest he end up getting lost and taking the long way there. The city of Balkh is also known as “Baktra”, as in “Bactria”, another name of this region.  A settlement has been there since at least 500 BCE , and it was already an important city when it was captured by Alexander the Great.  It sits at the confluence of several major trade routes, which no doubt were a big part of its success.  Xuanzang's biography notes that it was a massive city, though it was relatively sparsely populated—probably due to the relatively recent conquest by the Gokturks, which had occurred in the last couple of decades.  That said, there were still thousands of monks residing at a hundred monasteries in and around the city.  They are all characterized as monks of Theravada schools.  Southwest of the city was a monastery known as Navasamgharama, aka Nava Vihara, or “New Monastery”.  Despite its name, the monastery may have actually been much older, going back to the Kushan emperor Kaniska, in the 2nd century CE.  Ruins identified as this “New Monastery” are still visible south of Balkh, today. The monastery is described as being beautifully decorated, and it seems that it had a relic—one of the Buddha's teeth.  There are also various utensils that the Buddha is said to have used, as well.  The objects would be displayed on festival days.  North of the monastery there was a stupa more than 200 feet in height.  South of the monastery was a hermitage.  Each monk who studied there and passed away would have a stupa erected for them, as well.  Xuanzang notes that there were at around 700 memorial stupas, such that they had to be crammed together, base to base. It was here that Xuanzang met a young monk named Prajnaakara, who was already somewhat famous in India, and well-studied.  When questioned about certain aspects of Buddhism, Xuanzang was impressed by the monk's answers, and so stayed there a month studying with the young monk. Eventually, Xuanzang was ready to continue on his journey.  He departed Balkh towards the south, accompanying the teacher Prajnakara, and together they entered the Great Snow Mountains, aka the Hindu Kush.  This path was even more dangerous than the trip through the Tian Shan mountains to Suyab.   They eventually left the territory of Tukhara and arrived at Bamiyan.  Bamiyan was a kingdom in the Hindu Kush, themselves an extension of the Himalayan Mountain range.  It Is largely based around valley, home to the modern city of Bamyan, Afghanistan, which sits along the divide between Central Asia and the Indian subcontinent.  Today it is a major center for individuals of the Hazara ethnic group, one of the main ethnic groups in Afghanistan, which is a multi-ethnic state that includes, today, the Pashtun, Hazara, Tajik, and Uzbek people, along with a number of smaller ethnic groups.  Today they largely reside in the mountainous areas of the Hindu Kush. Bamiyan made an impact on our protagonist.   Their language was slightly different from that in Tukhara, but using the same—or similar enough—writing system.  Buddhism was thriving in the capital, and we are told of a rock statue of the standing Buddha, over a hundred feet in height, along with a copper statue of the standing Buddha nearby.    There was also another reclining Buddha a mile or two down the road.  There were multiple monasteries with thousands of monks, and the ruler of that kingdom received Xuanzang well. Xuanzang wasn't the first monk to travel to Bamiyan from the Middle Kingdom—in this he was, perhaps unwittingly, on the trail of the monk Faxian.  Faxian likely did not see these statues, though, as we believe they were built in the 6th and early 7th century—at least the stone Buddha statues.  They were a famous worship site until February 2001, when the Taliban gave an order to destroy all of the statues in Afghanistan.  Despite this, they were inscribed as UNESCO World Heritage Site in 2003. Fortunately, we have images from before their destruction.  These statues were a blend of Greco-Buddhist and Gandharan art styles—appropriate as it stands between the Hellenistic area of Tukhara and the ancient region of Gandhara—including the modern city of Kandahar and into the Indus Valley region of Pakistan. Continuing east through the mountains, Xuanzang eventually came out at the kingdom of Kapisa.  This may have had its capital around modern-day Bagram, north of modern Kabul, but the country seems to have been quite large.  Kapisa over saw some tens of other countries, and it is thought that at one time its influence extended from Bamyan and Kandahar to the area of modern Jalalabad.  Their language was even more different than that of Tukhara, but they were still using the same writing system.  The king of Kapisa is said to have been of Suli ethnicity—which would seem to indicate that he was Sogdian, or at least descended from people of the Transoxanian region.    Xuanzang notes that the ruler, as rough and fiery as he is described—as a true warlord or similar—he nonetheless made a silver image of the Buddha, eighteen feet in height, every year.  He also gave charity to the poor and needy in an assembly that was called every five years.  There were over one hundred monasteries and some 6000 monks, per Xuanzang's recollection, and notably, they were largely following Mahayana teachings. For the most part the monks that Xuanzang had encountered on this journey were Theravada—Xuanzang refers to them as “Hinayana”, referring to the “Lesser Vehicle” in contrast to Xuanzang's own “Mahayana”, or “Greater Vehicle”.  “Theravada” refers to the “way of the elders” and while Mahayana Buddhism largely accepts the sutras of Theravada Buddhism, there are many Mahayana texts that Theravada Buddhists do not believe are canonical.  We discussed this back in Episode 84. There was apparently a story of another individual from the Yellow River being sent as a hostage to Kapisa when it was part of the Kushan Empire, under Kanishka or similar.  Xuanzang recounts various places that the hostage, described as a prince, lived or visited while in the region.  Xuanzang's arrival likely stirred the imagination of people who likely knew that the Tang were out there, but it was such a seemingly impossible distance for most people.  And yet here was someone who had traveled across all of that distance.  One of the monasteries that claimed to have been founded because of that ancient Han prince invited Xuanzang to stay with them.  Although it was a Theravada monastery, Xuanzang took them up on the offer, both because of the connection to someone who may have been his countryman, but also because of his traveling companion, Prajnakara, who was also a Theravada monk, and may not be comfortable staying at a Mahayana monastery. Xuanzang spends a good deal of ink on the stories of how various monasteries and other sites were founded in Kapisa and the surrounding areas.  He must have spent some time there to accumulate all of this information.  It is also one of the places where he seems to have hit at least twice—once on the way to India, and once during his return journey. The King of Kapisa is said to have been a devotee of Mahayana Buddhism.  He invited Xuanzang and Prajnakara to come to a Mahayana monastery to hold a Dharma gathering.  There they met with several leading figures in the monastery, and they discussed different theories.  This gathering lasted five days, and at the end, the king offered Xuanzang and the other monks five bolts of pure brocade and various other gifts.  Soon thereafter, the monk Prajnakara was invited back to Tukhara, and so he and Xuanzang parted ways. And it was about time for Xuanzang to continue onwards as well.  From Kapisa, he would travel across the “Black Range” and into Lampaka.  This may refer to the area of Laghman or Jalalabad.  Today, this is in modern Afghanistan, but for Xuanzang, this would have been the northwestern edge of India.  He was almost there. And so are we, but we'll save his trip into India for next episode. 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.

Budizem ni »le« religija; v pomembni meri je tudi filozofija. V pogovoru s filozofinjo dr. Nino Petek smo preverjali, kateri pravzaprav so ključni koncepti budistične filozofske misli pa tudi kako se je ta misel razvijala v zgodovinskem času ter geografskem prostoru.V zahodni intelektualni tradiciji smo navajeni precej jasno, ostro ločevati med kategorijami, kot so umetnost, filozofija in religija – pa čeprav v vseh treh poljih udejstvovanja ljudje že tisočletja iščemo odgovore na sorodna vprašanja, povezana pač s smislom človeške eksistence, smislom našega trpljenja, temeljno naravo stvarstva ali s tisto skrivnostno mejo med bitjo in ne-bitjo, ki ji rečemo smrt. Prav zato se lahko zdi, da imajo, pogojno rečeno, bolj prav v nekaterih intelektualnih tradicijah, ki imajo svoje korenine v Aziji in v katerih omenjene kategorialne ločnice niso tako ostro postavljene. Vzemimo, na primer, budizem in se vprašajmo, kaj natanko počne budistični menih, ko ustvarja mandalo? – Je to oblika umetniškega ustvarjanja, religijskega čaščenja ali filozofske meditacije? Je vse troje hkrati? Nič od tega? Sploh pa: katera so ključna vprašanja, ki vznemirjajo oziroma zaposlujejo tiste intelektualke in intelektualce, ki izhajajo iz budističnih idejnih tradicij, iz budističnega miselnega univerzuma? Kateri pravzaprav so ključni koncepti, s katerimi skušajo budistični misleci zgrabiti človeka in stvarstvo? Kakšni so odgovori, do katerih so se v počasnem teku stoletju – zahvaljujoč delovanju različnih, pogosto tudi opazno divergentnih si budističnih intelektualnih šol – navsezadnje dokopali? In, jasno, kako težko je v ta miselni svet vstopiti človeku, ki se je intelektualno oblikoval v kontekstu evroameriških intelektualnih tradicij? To so nekatera izmed vprašanj, ki so nas zaposlovala v tokratnem Kulturnem fokusu, ko smo pred mikrofonom gostili filozofinjo, predavateljico na ljubljanski Filozofski fakulteti, dr. Nino Petek, ki je v sodelovanju s Sebastijanom Pešcem pred nedavnim souredila intriganten zbornik V iskanju Buddhe : sprehodi po krajinah budistične filozofije. Gre za zbornik, v katerem slovenski filozofi in filozofinje različnih generacij in usmeritev premišljujejo ne le budizem kot tak, ampak s pomočjo budizma skušajo, kajpada, tudi poglobiti svojo lastno misel. Toda: ali si lahko z budistično mislijo pomagamo, ko se bodemo s svetom, tudi laiki? – No, tudi to vprašanje smo pretresli v pogovoru z dr. Petek.   foto: kip Bude, ki poučuje, je nastal v 3. ali 4. stol. n. št. v deželi Gandhara na območju današnjega Pakistana, hrani pa ga singapurski Muzej azijskih civilizacij (detajl, Goran Dekleva)

The Abhidharmakośabhāṣya (Treasury of Metaphysics with Self-Commentary) is a pivotal treatise on early Buddhist thought composed around the 4th or 5th century by the Indian Buddhist philosopher Vasubandhu. This work is a complete and systematic account of the Abhidharma, and is the peak of scholarship in the Fundamental Vehicle. It elucidates the Buddha's teachings as synthesized and interpreted by the early Buddhist Sarvāstivāda school. Vasubandhu (4th to 5th century CE) was an influential Buddhist monk and scholar from Gandhara or Central India. He was a philosopher who wrote commentary on the Abhidharma, from the perspectives of the Sarvastivada and Sautrāntika schools. After his conversion to Mahayana Buddhism, along with his half-brother, Asanga, he was also one of the main founders of the Yogacara school. Vasubandhu's Abhidharmakośakārikā ("Commentary on the Treasury of the Abhidharma") is widely used in Tibetan and East Asian Buddhism, as the major source for non-Mahayana Abhidharma philosophy. Vasubandhu is one of the most influential thinkers in the Indian Buddhist philosophical tradition. Because of their association with Nalanda university, Vasubandhu and Asanga are amongst the so-called Seventeen Nalanda Masters. In Jōdo Shinshū, he is considered the Second Patriarch; in Chan Buddhism, he is the 21st Patriarch.

Buddhism Reference – Gandhara. An ancient center of Buddhist scholarship in what was then North-Eastern India. E-books - “Buddhism Reference – Now Available   Threefoldlotus.com/home/Ebooks.htm

Happy New Year! This episode we take a look back at where we've come and talk about some of the broad themes and changes that we've experienced over the episodes in the past year. For a little more, including references for the year, check out:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-newyear2024 Rough Transcript Shinnen Akemashite!  Happy New Year and Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is the New Year's Recap episode for 2024 Every year I try to take a moment and look back at the material we covered.  In part, this is to remind us of the journey we've been on, but it is also to help look at some of the larger themes that we might otherwise miss when we are looking at more discreet topics.  This year we have not necessarily progressed through as much of the archipelago's history as in previous years—we started in the early 530s and have probably covered about 80 or 90 years, in contrast to 2022 and before where we covered multiple centuries in a year.  But there's a good reason for that: it has been an eventful period, or at least more of the events are getting written down.  However, there is a lot of important stuff going on.  We are seeing, more than anywhere else, the rise of powerful families, not just individuals, a process that began as a way to expand the power of the state, but which then took on a life of its own under what is known as the uji-kabane system—the system of families and family rank.  This is happening alongside of a reimagining of the state and of the royal family in particular.  Many of the 8th century cultural norms are starting to be set in this period.  In many ways, the people of Yamato are revising their cultural imaginary of themselves, often in reference to new ideas, concepts, and philosophies being imported from the continent.  This includes the arrival of Buddhism and its shake up of the way that the people of the archipelago viewed the world and their place in it. And so we're going to start with a recap of the various sovereigns, then go into some of the more particular aspects of what was going on, and try to cover some of those more overarching themes.  Hopefully this gives us a good base to move on into 2024. Now over the past year we've gone through seven sovereigns.  First was the short reign of Magari no Ohine, aka Ankan Tennou, around 531 to 536, back in episode 79, when we talked about the glass bowl attributed to his tomb.  He was followed by his brother Takewo Hirokunioshi Tate, or Senka Tennou, who reigned until his death in 539.  That was Episode 80, where we also kind of kicked off the Asuka period, which many see as starting around 538.  Next, in Episodes 81 through 86, was their half-brother, Amekunioshi Hiraki Hironiwa, or Kinmei Tennou, who ruled until about 571.  Amekunioshi was followed by his son, Nunakura Futodamashiki, known as Bidatsu Tennou, who ruled until 585—Episodes 88 and 89.  Bidatsu was followed, in episode 90, by our fifth sovereign in this year's line up, Tachibana no Toyohi, or Youmei Tennou, father of Prince Umayado, aka the famous Shotoku Taishi, who we talked quite a bit about for his legendary and historical importance.  Youmei Tennou passed away in 587, and after some conflict, Hasebe no Wakasasaki came to the throne, remembered as Sushun Tennou.  He was assasinated in 592, as we covered in Episode 92, and succeeded by Toyomike Kashikiya Hime, daughter of Amekunioshi, wife to Nunakura Futodamashiki, and known to most as Suiko Tennou.  That's where we are at present. We also have seen a succession of high officials.  We started off with Ohotomo no Kanamura and Mononobe no Arakahi as the two Ohomuraji, but we quickly saw the addition of Soga no Iname as Oho-omi.  This foreshadowed the fading of the Ohotomo family appear to have lost their status with their failures in peninsular dealings,   while the Mononobe and Soga continued to help lead the country.  Mononobe no Arakahi was succeeded in the position of Ohomuraji by Mononobe no Okoshi, and then Mononobe no Yugehi no Moriya.  Soga no Iname was succeeded to the position of Oho-omi by his son, Soga no Umako. Taken together with Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi, these are perhaps some of the main names in the Chronicles.  Let's recap what was most important about each of them. We started this year talking about the reign of Magari no Ohine, aka Ankan Tennou.  The official account says that he was the son of Wohodo, aka Keitai Tenno, and one of two of Wohodo's sons that were basically just keeping the seat warm for their half-brother, Amekunioshi, aka Kinmei Tennou.  In other words, they were kind of regents.  This story quickly falls apart, however, when you look at several factors.  First, based on some of the dates given for his birth, Amekunioshi would have been around 22 years old when their father, Wohodo, passed away—young, but old enough to take the throne without requiring any kind of regent.  In addition, neither of his two brothers gave up the throne to him when he finally came of age—whatever age that might have been.  Instead, each one died in the position.  That doesn't exactly scream that they were giving up power. Why this discrepancy?  The best explanation is that the Chroniclers were trying to keep things nice and tidy, and we are told that the tradition was for sovereigns to only come from lineages where both the male and female lines were considered royal—one sovereign and one royal princess, typically, who would be raised up as the Queen, and whose offspring would be eligible for the throne.  However, that was slightly disrupted by Amekunioshi, aka Kinmei Tennou, who seems to have taken the throne despite the fact that his two half-brothers and their offspring may have had the stronger claim.  Still, he was able to point to his mother's royal status.  In fact, she was even of the previous dynasty, sister to the last sovereign from that line, Wohatsuse Wakasazaki, aka Buretsu Tennou.  Or so we are told by the Chroniclers. .  And so only Amekunioshi's mother is considered to be the truly legitimate queen, while Magari no Ohine and the other so-called “regent” brother - Takewo Hiro Kunioshi Tate, aka Senka Tennou - must have been from a consort other than the Wohodo's main wife.  Their mother, Menoko, was instead linked to a prominent family, that of the Owari no Muraji, but it is unclear if they had the royal connections on her side—though I have little doubt that they could have been invented if they didn't already exist. I would point out that even given this explanation, both of the brothers were given the posthumous honors of “Tenno”, rather than being referred to as a regent, whereas the sovereign Okinaga no Tarashi Hime, aka Jingu Kougou, also ostensibly a regent, was never granted that honor, at least by the Chroniclers.  We discussed this a bit in Episodes 41 and 42, and how that may have been due to the Chroniclers' misogynistic tendencies as much as anything.  There is a suggestion that in reality, these two brothers may have been rival claimants, and there may have even been competing courts, as different family members rallied support to their side.And all of that perfectly helps illustrate just how we think things might have looked around this time.  Succession to the royal throne hardly appears to have been cut and dry.  Even before this period, we saw times where there were multiple claimants , regents, etc.  There is no clear pattern by which we can deduce who would succeed any given sovereign: it might be a brother, or any of their sons, or even a daughter.  And without a clear system of succession, every time the sovereign passed away, there was a competition for the throne.    You might recall that the mutual father of these three sovereigns, Wohodo, was himself said to have been the first in a new dynasty-- the previous dynasty died out with Wohodo's predecessor, Wohatsuse no Wakasazaki, aka Buretsu Tennou.  There are a lot of questions around this transition, but even the Chroniclers couldn't immediately connect Wohodo to the previous lineage without having to go all the way back to Homuda Wake, aka Oujin Tennou, on his father's side, and to Ikume Iribiko, aka Suinin Tennou, on his mother's side, but there are still plenty of questions about those ties and how real they were.        When it comes to the complications of succession, one thing to factor in is that this was still in the time when every sovereign moved into a new palace.  There are various thoughts on why this was —one of them being that the move prevented spiritual pollution associated with a dead body.  I also wonder if it wasn't practical as the new sovereign may have already had their own base of power, or perhaps by building new it was a way to ensure that the buildings were always fresh and free of any problems, as I believe these early buildings were largely built of fresh, untreated wood.  Whatever the reason, moving to a new palace each time also means that there wasn't an actual, physical throne to fight over.  Rival sovereigns could set themselves up in different areas in and around the Nara basin, Kawachi, et cetera, and gather supporters to their court.  Those supporters, no doubt individuals with some power and clout in their region who saw benefit in allying themselves with an even bigger name, would eventually become the heads of various corporate families, further extending their power and influence.  There is plenty of reason to believe that the family systems we see on the archipelago were not necessarily indigenous creations.  Early on people were associated with a place, perhaps, and of course you would know your line of descent, possibly even going back into myth and legend.  The concept of “family” as simply a matter of descent and relationship no doubt existed—after all, everyone has a mother and a father.  However, the idea of families with wide ranging control over a particular industry, administrative function, or even court ritual were likely imported from the continent as a way to group people together.  In fact, these are often referred to more as “clans”—groups of individuals who claimed shared descent, whether real or imagined, often from some legendary figure.  The new concept of these families not only grouped people based on things like their occupation or common ethnicity, if they came from the peninsula, but it also added a layer of administration that was then tied into the concept of the Yamato court, making it an extension of the government.  In turn, the government classified these families through a system of rank and titles—the kabane.   This system had people being known as much or even more by their family name as they were by the common name they went by as individuals.  Originally we see individuals working in similar professions organized into groups that used the term “-Be” in the name, but later we get the “uji”, or familial clans, that were more like administrators and extensions of the court.  Of note, there would continue to be many people who were not formally part of a particular -Be or Uji or even Ie, or “house”.  These were mostly individuals of the common agricultural class or similar, and long lineages might have no actual family name until the Meiji period, when everyone was expected to take on a family name as part of the efforts to modernize the country.  Until then, having a family name meant that you actually were already a part of the upper crust of society, even if you were only on the bottommost rung of that particular social ladder. In addition, a family name allowed someone to take on the family kabane, or title.  While there were some titles that appear to be given to the individual, these kabane titles, such as Suguri, Kishi, Atahe, Kimi, Muraji, and Omi, designated entire families.  These terms themselves appear to come from earlier job positions, indicating different types of leadership, from a local headmaster up to rulers of countries, and high ministers of the court.  For example, the title of “Omi” was originally a job description, indicating one of the many functionaries that made the court run, but as a kabane, any member of a given family would be able to use the term, whether they were actually in a ministerial position or not.   At this point, these important families were essentially an extension of the state—a way to decentralize control so that the Yamato state could function at an expanded level.  Some families appear to have been set up around local administration, including making local chieftains and the like part of their own family unit that was then granted control of the area by the court.  During the period we've covered this past year, we see that approach of absorbing regional families mature and grow, and those families taking on greater roles: initially with stories of the Ohotomo and Mononobe families, culminating in the powerful Soga family.  For the Ohotomo and the Mononobe, the family name likely tells us part of what and who they were.  The Ohotomo were the Great Tomo, or the Great Tomo no Miyatsuko.  These Tomo no Miyatsuko are some of the earliest court nobles, and it would make sense that the Ohotomo were at their head—which would also explain their position as the Oho-omi in the 5th and early 6th centuries.  Next to this family were the Mononobe, the Be (occupational group) of the Warriors, or Mononofu.  Together these families represented the early concepts of administration and military might.  However, as the families continued to evolve, they became independent from the roles they were originally created to hold.  The Ohotomo would eventually fall from power, and in their place would rise up the Mononobe.  However, the Mononobe would also find themselves on the outs, especially in the tumultuous period following Amekunioshi's death.  It was at this time that a new family would rise up to take their place:  the Soga, which we've heard a lot about this year.  The head of the Soga, Soga no Iname, had positioned his family in part through carefully marrying his daughters into the royal line.  While this had been done in the past, it wasn't to the extent or success that the Soga were able to achieve: In only a single generation, Iname saw Soga descended sovereigns on the throne.  This took place, of course, with not a small amount of maneuvering and the eradication of rival lineages.  It was their own Game of Thrones playing out, with the families created to serve the state and the royal family grabbing for themselves more power.  This would seem to be an unexpected consequence of a concept that had initially helped expand the royal authority, and we'll only continue to see more of it in the coming decades and centuries. At the same time that all of this was playing out on the archipelago, things on the continent were also changing.  First and foremost, in that it was closest to home for Yamato, was the rising power of Silla on the Korean peninsula. Up to this point, most of the Korean peninsula appears to have been a collection of small, regional polities, with occasional alliances between them.  There were two or three kingdoms of note.  In the north was Goryeo, a shortened version of the original name, Goguryeo, which is how we generally refer to it today to distinguish it from the 10th century state of the same name.  It was the oldest of the various kingdoms, and claimed descent from the northern Buyeo kingdom, centered in modern Manchuria. In the southwest of the peninsula was the kingdom of Baekje.  They, too, claimed descent from the nobility of Buyeo, and they were made up of many of the various polities collectively referred to as Mahan.  While Goguryeo was ruling up in the north, Baekje was one of the first kingdoms to set up shop in the southern end of the peninsula. Then there was Silla.  Originally a confederation of six polities in the area known as the Jinhan, they eventually became a kingdom and started pushing against the other polities in the region.  This includes the fledgling kingdom of Kara, mostly known as a confederation of smaller polities from the old Byeonhan region.  There are royal style tombs in the area, but before they could really get going Kara and the other polities fell under the control of the kingdom of Silla.  This included groups like Ara and the controversial polity of Nimna.  This set Baekje and Silla in direct confrontation, as Silla's land grab eliminated much of the buffer territory between the two of them. Nimna appears to have been of particular concern to Yamato, and appears to have been one of Yamato's allies, along with Baekje.  While Baekje appears to have been the stronger of the two, Nimna may have had a special place for Yamato, especially as it may have been an important port for Yamato ships traveling to trade with the rest of the continent.  Nimna being under Silla rule would have made this trade much more risky, as the Silla-Yamato relationship was often a rocky one.  Yamato attempted to move Nimna out from under Silla control, both through an alliance with Baekje, in concert with some of the other polities, as well as through attempts to take the country by force—most of which excursions were called off for one reason or another. At the same time, Baekje had been in decline, generally speaking.  They moved their capital farther south after being defeated by Goguryeo.  They were rebuilding, and still a powerful force, but not quite at the height of their power. Farther on the mainland, between the Yellow and Yangzi rivers, the period of the Northern and Southern Courts was coming to a close, and the Sui dynasty would eventually rule much of the Middle Kingdom, what is today modern China.  They would bring a stability to the region and embark on public works projects that would forever change the face of East Asia. As all of this was happening, influences were coming from the west.  We mentioned the Sassanian glass bowl and similar wares that made their way from the Middle East all the way to Japan—though whether as part of a sovereign's burial or not might still be up for debate.  Nonetheless, we know that the overland trade routes were booming, even if the occasional instability might disrupt them now and again.  The whole of Asia was more connected than we often give it credit for. Along this road came not only material goods, but new ideas.  Greek culture had reached at least as far as Gandhara, modern Pakistan and Afghanistan, and from east of the Indus came a new religion:  Buddhism.  It spread along the silk road, eventually finding a home in China, where it flourished, and continued to spread to the Korean peninsula and then, in the 6th century, to the archipelago of Japan. Buddhism came hand in hand with other mainland texts, exploring a variety of science and philosophy.  We discussed how the mainstream story of the introduction of Buddhism is likely not entirely correct.  That story sets up a conflict between the foreign religion of Buddhism and the worship of local kami—the practices that would become Shinto.  So, resistance to Buddhism is initially depicted as a resistance to foreign influence and the need to continue to support indigenous belief.  The reality, however, is much more complex. First is the role of kami worship in the expansion and exercise of State power.  The archaeological record demonstrates some expansion of Yamato ritual in the spread of various kofun styles —especially the royal keyhole shaped kofun, which were clearly adopted by others, demonstrating Yamato's influence.  More subtly, we see the spread of Yamato ritualists to various parts of the archipelago, and eventually the spread of various beliefs—though it may be somewhat difficult to say just when belief in any particular kami started at this period.  Remember, though, the way that powerful physical icons of the kami, such as mirrors and swords, had been taken by the Yamato sovereign and held by the court.  We touched on this back in Episode 20, where we discussed on Yamato took on “guardianship” for various relics, almost like they were taking sacred hostages.  Worship of the kami was intertwined with statecraft, and spiritual power and political power were both a part of the mix along with actual military power.  If you could perform a ritual that people felt was effectual, that was seen as on par with actual governance.  We also see this in the way that various families identified with different kami, such as the Mononobe and their link to the deity of Isonokami shrine, and the Royal family with the deity of Mt. Miwa.  Worship, however, was already starting to take on a continental tinge, as we see in stories about various deities, and the practice of worship.  This was no doubt influenced by immigrants from the Korean peninsula, who brought their own stories and beliefs.  Furthermore, whenever nothing else seemed to be working, bringing in new and exotic ritual practices from across the sea was likely seen as New and Shiny.  It was, after all, the latest in spiritual technology, and that foreign-ness and lack of local understanding would have led not only to its also having a somewhat mysterious quality, but also in the power that comes with being the only ones to quote-unquote “understand” the power of it and how to translate it.  If you were a 5th or 6th century ritualist family, if you could get hold of things that seemed to be ancient practices from the continent that nobody else really knew or understood, you were automatically the local subject matter expert. Furthermore, there wasn't necessarily a single, unified concept of how the kami worked, either.  Kami worship was often localized, and then later would spread as others heard about particularly powerful kami and rituals.  But there was no single concept of “Shinto”—there's no evidence that Izumo, Yamato, and Kibi all had the same origin stories, and, in fact, the many different stories that make up the Age of the Gods in the Chronicles speaks to the idea that there were many different stories, depending on who you asked.  In many ways, this is even true today.  While there are general themes that most Shinto shrines and practitioners follow, ritual practices from place to place may vary wildly.  This is less so in places that were part of more unified systems, such as the shrines connected to the royal family or those regulated by State Shinto in the Meiji period through World War II, but even today you can find a variety of differing beliefs and rituals in Shinto, even as most things appear to be the same on the outside.  A shrine's teachings may have local meaning or local rituals that are not practiced elsewhere, though many will fall into a recognizable cultural milieu that tends to make them more standardized.  As a small, but visible example, different shrines may have different omamori—protection amulets—that they offer.  While most offer amulets against sickness, disaster, or for attaining goals, some may have specific amulets for the martial arts, while others may have more specific amulets about love and marriage.  These will often be based on those things which the shrine and its kami are most associated with. In many ways, the Soga clan's acceptance of and use of Buddhism early on emphasizes this kind of spiritual borrowing, but to an extent that went well beyond what anyone else had done.  Most groups or families seem to have borrowed bits and pieces from the continent and then applied them to their local customs, but the Soga appear to have taken on Buddhism wholesale.  The benefit was that Buddhism wasn't just a few new practices—it was an entire corpus of material, with a rich written tradition.  Of course the writing was primarily in Sinic script, which was not exactly accessible to most people.  And early attempts at building temples and holding worship demonstrate a clear lack of understanding of Buddhist rites and rituals – indeed they are described much more like what one might expect to see in kami worship, with an emphasis on Buddhist “feasts”.  This may have been an attempt to make these new practices more accessible, but I believe that it is more likely that these early attempts at Buddhism were trying to treat the Buddha as another kami, through which the Soga family could control access to rites and rituals and thus gain political power through their perceived spiritual power.  It didn't hurt that, when they finally did build some temples, they were in the continental style, even further illustrating the Soga family's connection with all of these new fangled ideas coming over from across the sea. This was likely facilitated by the Soga family's connections to the immigrant community, particularly to various people from Baekje whom they sponsored and who, in turn, would be able to assist them in various ways.  These included people like Shiba Tattou and his family, who were regularly assisting Soga no Iname and Soga no Umako in their endeavors.  This may in part explain why early Buddhist images were coming over from Baekje, Yamato's ally at the time, though that may have been coincidental or even a catalyst—it isn't entirely clear. It is also intriguing to me that I have not seen a clear reference to a Soga family shrine.  Perhaps the Soga themselves were from the continent, originally—that may explain some of the earlier Soga names that appear to reference the peninsula and even Goguryeo.  Then again, it is hard to say—it may be that the Soga family shrine was never of as much import as their eventual attachment to Buddhist institutions. For those in power who could see how the Soga family was using this new religion, it is little wonder that they pushed back against it.  They had no particular reason to see Buddhism as anything particularly special, but they no doubt knew that the Soga would use it as a platform to further enhance their position.  And the powers-that-be succeeded several times, it would seem, in resisting Soga attempts to found a new ritual center. The Soga, however, had already gained considerable power outside of Buddhism.  Much of their rise is not entirely catalogued, but by the time of Soga no Iname, things were looking good.  The Ohotomo family was on the decline, which likely created something of a power vacuum that Soga no Iname was able to exploit.  By the way, there is a thought that early on the position of “Muraji” was actually superior to that of “Omi”, and it may be that the “Oho-omi” position was not quite as prestigious as that of Ohomuraji.  This is obscured by the fact that by the time of the Chronicles, the Oho-omi position clearly eclipsed the position of Ohomuraji, and that is projected back into the distant past by the Chroniclers.  This would speak to the idea that the Soga family was actually ranked behind the Ohotomo and the Mononobe, originally, but their Omi family was on the rise, and eventually their position as Oho-omi, the Great Omi, became the most influential position at court. This may go along with the fact that Soga no Iname is also given the personal kabane of Sukune in the Chronicles, which is described as the highest personal title that could be bestowed on an individual.That also speaks to his personal power and influence at court.  Of course, he is described by these terms from early on, even though he likely received them later in his career, and so it can be difficult to track just when he came to the peak of his effectiveness.  There is also the possibility that some of it is projected back on him because of his offspring, though even then he was still likely someone of consequence to be able to have those familial connections with the royal family in the first place. I suspect that much of Iname's position was likely derived from his access to Baekje and other immigrants and their access to reading, writing, and the new technologies that the court was hungering for.  Iname then parlayed that position into strategic marriages with the royal house.  Several consorts were from the Soga lineage, daughters of Soga no Iname.  Their sons and daughters, while royal princes and princesses, would also be connected to their Soga relatives.  This was a not uncommon ploy, as we've seen it in many other cases as well.  However, then something happened that would disrupt the apple cart.  Remember hwo we talked about how a sovereign was supposed to be be descended from the royal family through both their paternal and maternal lines? Amekunioshi was succeeded by his son Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tennou.  His mother had been Ishi Hime, son of Amekunioshi's half-brother, Takewo Hiro Kunioshi Tate, aka Senka Tennou.  But when he died, his son, Hikobito, was not made sovereign.  Instead, the throne passed to his half-brother, Tachibana no Toyohi, aka Youmei Tennou, a son of Amekunioshi and a daughter of Soga no Iname—so royal blood on only half of the family's side.  Following him, we see a bloody fight for the throne, largely personified by the military forces of the Mononobe v. those of the Soga.  Remember, the Mononobe had started as the Be of the warriors.  They were expected to be the armies of the court, at least in Yamato and the archipelago.  In previous reigns they had been the ones to mete out punishment and to be given charge of places like the Yamato government's outpost in Kyushu, from which point armies would be launched against the continent.    They did not, however, have a monopoly on military power.  Many families participated in raids against the peninsula, so we can assume that there were many who had their own, private forces.  While the Mononobe may have been the court's warriors, they had also branched out into other areas of administration, as well as maintaining the ritual site of Isonokami. The Soga versus Mononobe fight also saw various royal princes pitted against each other, and many would-be sovereigns were killed.  Prince Hikohito, whom one might think as the eldest son of Nunakura was the heir presumptive, was killed, and the Mononobe ended up supporting Prince Anahobe against the Soga's candidate, Prince Hasebe.  However, both of these candidates were descended from daughters of Soga no Iname—nobody was putting up a candidate that truly had royal blood on both sides. In the end, the Soga were victorious, and they destroyed the Mononobe—though not entirely.  The Mononobe were certainly out of power, but they would continue to exist in a more minor role.  The Soga candidate, Hasebe, was then placed on the throne as Sushun Tenno, while Soga no Umako enjoyed unparalleled power as Oho-omi.  However, despite his Soga lineage, and the fact that Soga no Umako had helped put him on the throne, Hasebe was not necessarily going to let himself be controlled.  And so Soga no Umako resorted, we are told, to assassination, to clear the throne for someone else.  And that someone else was none other than Toyomike Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennou.  She is something of an enigma.  She is the first woman to be granted the title of “Tennou” by the Chroniclers, and several accounts make her seem like she was a shrewd operator.  She had been the second wife of her half-brother, Nunakura Futodamashiki, and she'd been in or near the halls of power since his reign.  And yet some believe her to be little more than a puppet for Soga no Umako, while others believe she was a consensus candidate who was largely inoffensive to the majority of the court.  This is further complicated by the fact that she didn't even name her own offspring as Crown Prince, designated to succeed her.  Rather, that position went to none other than her nephew, the Prince of the Upper Palace, Kamitsumiya, aka the Prince of the Stable Door, Umayado, more popularly known today as Prince Shotoku Taishi. Shotoku Taishi is a mytho-historical figure by all accounts.  While many believe that an actual prince existed, he is given credit for almost anything good that happened.  Although the Soga family was clearly responsible for bringing in Buddhism, it is Shotoku Taishi who is credited with spreading the holy religion.  He is also said to have written the first constitution for the state, and set up a court rank system similar to the continent, though still unique to Yamato.  He is said to have ruled jointly with his aunt, and is treated in later stories as a dharma king, even though he never took on the actual mantle of sovereign.  Of course, Soga no Umako also exerted a huge influence, and in the end it is hard to say exactly who held the real power amongst the three:  Kashikiya Hime, Prince Umayado, or Soga no Umako. Umayado was the first to pass away, however—which may have also contributed to his holy status as any problems could be passed off as belonging to his aunt or, even better, to his grand-uncle, Soga no Umako, who would follow Umayado in death a few years later, and then, finally, Kashikiya Hime herself would succumb to time.  They all passed away within a decade of each other, but Kashikiya Hime would manage to outlast them all. Through this reign, for all of the fighting and politics, many of the foundations were laid for a reimagining of the Yamato state, the sovereign, and the vehicles of power.  The court had spread their control through ritual, through the familial system, and through the establishment of Miyake—government outposts designed to control rice land and send tribute back in the form of tax.  However, now they were formalizing that structure and in so doing they were putting a legal framework around it.  Built around a continental model, the throne became the source of rank for the individual, not just the family, and that rank could be given out across the archipelago.  This set up some of what was needed to start to move towards a more bureaucratic state in the continental model. Certainly, we see that Yamato power had expanded.  Further out from Yamato, we see the round, keyhole shaped tombs becoming popular, while closer to the Nara basin, they actually began to die out.  In part this can be seen as a possible sign of Yamato control, since the local elites were no longer being represented as rulers, but in a lesser capacity.  However, it then takes a real turn as even the sovereigns—or at least the Soga descended sovereigns—are no longer buried in keyhole shaped tombs, either, and these tombs become smaller.  This may be, at least in part, because resources to build tombs were being redirected into the new temple building craze.  For whatever reason, Buddhism had caught on, at least amongst the elites.  If the Soga family had hoped to control Buddhism, they appear to have failed.  Numerous temples started up, tied to different families, most of them connected, in some way, with various immigrant groups in the archipelago.  Where this would go, we'll have to see. And that largely catches us up.  I skipped over a few things, but it is worth recalling the Haruna eruptions that we covered back in episode 87, which reminds us that the Chronicles really only give us a narrow view of everything that was going on.  Much of the history of the archipelago remains unrecorded, and is only understood through the archaeological record.  While a lot was happening in Yamato, there was plenty going on elsewhere, but we only see it when it touches on Yamato and their politics. And so we learn a little more about the creation of the Dazaifu, and we hear about natural disasters, such as earthquakes and floods, but only if they affect the Nara basin.  There are some hints in the fudoki, the local gazetteers that were compiled in the 8th century to catalog the local stories and histories, but we only have so much, and even then the stories aren't always easy to place in a truly chronological context.  Still, we can see some general themes running throughout this period. As we start into 2024, we'll finish up with the reign of Kashikiya Hime.   Before her reign ends, we'll also see the rise of the Tang dynasty on the continent—a new inspiration for Yamato, but also a new threat, especially as they ally with Silla.  Also, with Prince Umayado gone, who will next take the reins of power?  And what will happen with the Soga family?  Will Umako's children prove as formidable as he was?  There is plenty more to look forward to. Until then, Happy New Year!  As usual, thank you for listening and for all of your support.  Thanks also to my lovely wife, Ellen, for her continued work at helping to edit these episodes! Remember, 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 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 episode we talk about the first recorded instance of Buddhism--or at least the worship of the Buddha--in Japan, and we look at some of the politics and issues surrounding its adoption, as well as some of the problems in the story we have from the Chronicles.  We also look at what legend says happened to the oldest Buddhist image and where you can find it, today.  Hint: It is in a place that once hosted the Winter Olympics! For more check out our podcast website:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-85 Rough Transcript:   Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 85: The Buddha Comes to Japan. Last couple episodes we've talked about Buddhism.  We talked about its origins in the Indian subcontinent, with the teachings of Siddhartha Gautama, aka Shakyamuni, the historical Buddha, and how those teachings spread out from India to Gandhara, and then followed the trade routes across the harsh deserts of the Tarim Basin, through the Gansu corridor, and into the Yellow and Yangzi River Valleys.  From there the teachings made it all the way to the Korean peninsula, and to the country of Baekje, Yamato's chief ally on the peninsula. This episode we'll look at how Buddhism came to the archipelago and its initial reception there.  For some of this we may need to span several reigns, as we'll be looking at events from early to late 6th century.  This is also about more than just religion, and so we may need to dive back into some of the politics we've covered up to this point as well.  Hopefully we can bring it all together in the end, but if it is a bit of a bumpy ride, just hang with me for a bit. So let's start with the official account in the Nihon Shoki, which we already mentioned two episodes ago: the first mention of Buddhism in the Chronicles.  The year was 552, or the 13th year in the reign of Ame Kunioshi, aka Kimmei Tennou.  That winter, during the 10th month—which was probably closer to December or January on a modern calendar—King Seongmyeong of Baekje had a special gift for his counterpart, the sovereign of Yamato.  By this time there are numerous accounts of gifts to Yamato, generally in conjunction with the Baekje-Yamato alliance and Baekje's requests for military support in their endeavors on the peninsula, generally framed in the Yamato sources as centering on the situation of the country of Nimna. In this case, the gift was a gilt-bronze image of Shakyamuni Buddha, several flags and umbrellas, and a number of volumes of Buddhist sutras.  King Seongmyeong sent a memorial explaining his intent:  “This doctrine” (aka Buddhism) “is amongst all doctrines the most excellent.  But it is hard to explain, and hard to comprehend.  Even the Duke of Zhou and Confucius had not attained to a knowledge of it.  This doctrine can create religious merit and retribution with appreciation of the highest wisdom.  Imagine a man in possession of treasures to his heart's content, so that he might satisfy all his wishes in proportion as he used them.  Thus it is with the treasure of this wonderful doctrine.  Every prayer is fulfilled and naught is wanting.  Moreover, from distant India it has extended hither to the three Han, where there are none who do not receive it with reverence as it is preached to them. “Thy servant, therefore, Myeong, King of Baekje, has humbly dispatched his retainer, Nuri Sacchi, to transmit it to the Imperial Country, and to diffuse it abroad throughout the home provinces, so as to fulfil the recorded saying of Buddha: ‘My law shall spread to the East.' “ Upon receiving all of these things and hearing the memorial, we are told that the sovereign, Ame Kunioshi, literally leapt for joy.  He thanked the envoys, but then put the question to his ministers as to how they should proceed.  Soga no Iname no Sukune, holding the position of Oho-omi, recommended that they should worship the statue of the Buddha.  After all, if all of the “Western Frontier lands” were worshipping it, then should Yamato really be left out? On the other side of the argument were Mononobe no Okoshi as well as Nakatomi no Kamako.  They argued against stopping the traditional worship of the 180 kami of Heaven and Earth and replacing it with worship of some foreign religion. With this split decision, Ame Kunioshi decided to have Soga no Iname experiment, first.  He told him to go ahead and worship the image and see what happens. And so Soga set it up at his house in Oharida, purified it, and, per Buddhist tradition, retired from the world.  He had another house, in nearby Mukuhara, purified and made into a temple.  Here he began to worship the Buddha. Around that same time, there was a pestilence—a disease—that was in the land.  People were getting sick and some were dying.  This was likely not unprecedented.  Healthcare was not exactly up to our modern standards, and while many good things traveled the trade routes, infection and disease likely used them as pathways as well.  So diseases would pop up, on occasion.  In this instance, though, Mononobe no Okoshi and Nakatomi no Kamako seized on it as their opportunity.  They went to Ame Kunioshi and they blamed Soga no Iname and his worship of the Buddha for the plague. Accordingly, the court removed the statue of the Buddha and tossed it into the canal at Naniwa, and then they burned down Soga no Iname's temple—which, as you may recall, was basically his house.  As soon as they did that, though, Ame Kunioshi's own Great Hall burst into flames, seemingly out of nowhere, as it was otherwise a clear day. Little more is said about these events, but that summer there were reports from Kawachi of Buddhist chants booming out of the sea of Chinu near the area of Idzumi.  Unate no Atahe was sent to investigate and found an entire log of camphorwood that was quote-unquote “Shining Brightly”.  So he gave it to the court, where we are told they used it to have two Buddha images made, which later were installed in a temple in Yoshino; presumably at a much later date. And then the Chronicles go quiet for the next couple decades, at least on the subject of Buddhism, but this is the first official account of it coming over, and there is quite a bit to unpack.  For one thing, the memorials and speeches once again seem like something that the Chroniclers added because it fit with their understanding of the narrative, including their insistence that Yamato was a fully fledged imperial state, and there is some fairly good evidence that King Seongmyeong's memorial is clearly anachronistic.  But there are a few other things, and conflicting records on things such as dates and similar. So first off, let's acknowledge that there are too many things in the main narrative in the Chronicles that are just questionable, such as the sovereign “leaping with joy” at the chance to hear about Buddhism, and the fact that King Seongmyeong's memorial apparently quotes a part of the sutra of the Sovereign Kings of Golden Light, known in Japanese as the Konkoumyou-saishou-ou-kyou, but that translation wasn't done until 703, during the Tang dynasty, by the monk Yijing in the city of Chang'an.  While it would have been known to knowledgable monks like Doji, who may have been helping put the narrative together in 720, it is unlikely that it was in use during the 6th century, when the memorial is said to have been written. In addition, there is question about the date that all of this supposedly happened.  The Nihon Shoki has this event taking place in 552, well into the reign of Ame Kunioshi.  However, there are at least two 8th century sources, roughly contemporary with the writing of the Nihon Shoki, the Gangoji Garan Engi and the Jouguuki, and both of these put the date at 538, a good fourteen years earlier, and in the era of Ame Kunioshi's predecessor, Takewo Hiro Kunioshi, aka Senka Tenno.  The first of these, the Gangoji Garan Engi, is a record of the founding of the first permanent temple in Japan, Gangoji, aka Hokoji or, informally, Asukadera, which was founded by Soga no Iname's heir, Soga no Umako.  More on the temple itself, later, but for now we want to focus on the historical aspects of this account, which mostly corroborate the story, talking about Soga no Iname's role in receiving the image and enshrining it, as well as the early conflict between the Soga clan and their rivals.  The other source, the Joguki, focuses on the life of Shotoku Taishi, aka Prince Umayado, who will become a major subject of our narrative at the end of the 6th and early 7th centuries.  Not only is he considered the father of Japanese Buddhism, but he had strong connections to the Soga family.  Today, most scholars accept the 538 date over the 552 date when talking about Buddhism's initial arrival into the islands   If the Chroniclers did move the event from 538 to 552, one has to wonder why.  This isn't a simple matter of being off by 60 years, and thus attributable to a mistake in the calendrical sexagenary zodiac cycle of stems and branches, so there must have been something else.  One suggestion is that the date conflicted with the chronology that had already been set for the sovereigns.  538 is during the reign of Takewo no Ohokimi, aka Senka Tenno, but what if succession was not quite as cut and dried as all that?  What if Ame Kunioshi no Ohokimi had his own court and was in some way ruling at the same time as his half-brothers, Magari no Ohine and Takewo no Ohokimi? They were from different mothers, and thus different factions at court.  Ame Kunioshi was young, so it was possible that there were rival lineages attempting to rule, or even some kind of co-ruler deal hearkening back to more ancient precedent.  Some even theorize that Magari no Ohine and Takewo Hiro Kunioshi were simply fictional inserts to help span the period between Wohodo and Ame Kunioshi. Whatever the reason, this theory suggests that it would not have happened in the 13th year of Ame Kunioshi's reign, but that his reign started in 526, rather than 540.  An intriguing hypothesis, but one that begs the question of whether everything in the reign would then need to be shifted to account for that.  Given that there are a few attributable events noted that fit with outside sources as well, that doesn't seem quite as plausible without some very conscious efforts to change the timeline. Another thought is that the compilers weren't sure exactly when this event happened, but given Ame Kunioshi's reputation and long reign, they chose his reign to place it in because it just fit.  I suspect that this happened more than once, with people more likely attributing past events to well-remembered sovereigns.  If this is the case, then when searching for a date they may have just chosen one that seemed auspicious.  In this case, 552 CE was, in some reckonings, an important year in Buddhist history, as there were those who say it as the beginning of the age of “mappou”, the “End of the Law” or perhaps the “Latter days of the Law”. This definitely is an intriguing theory, and resonates strongly.  For most of Japanese history, the idea that we are in this period of “mappo” has had a strong influence, and to a certain extent it is kind of an apocalyptic view of things.  The idea of mappo is that while the Buddha was alive, his teachings were fresh and available to all living things.  However, after his death, his teachings had to be remembered and passed on.  Even with the advent of writing, the meaning and understanding of his teachings, and thus an understanding of dharma, would also atrophy.  Different translations, changes in meaning, and just bits and pieces lost to time would mean that for the first 500 to 1,000 years, the Buddha's disciples would keep things well and the meaning would be protected, but in the next 500 to 1,000 years things would decline, but still be pretty close to the truth.  Then – and this is when the period of “mappo” starts - things would really start to decline, until finally, about 5,000 to 10,000 years later—or about 1,000 to 12,000 years after the time of the historical Buddha—things would break down, factions would be fighting one another, and eventually everyone would have forgotten the dharma entirely.  It was only then that there would come a new Buddha, Miroku or Maitreya, who would once again teach about the dharma and how to escape suffering, and the whole cycle would start again. The year 552 would have coincided, according to some estimates, with 1,000 years since the time of Siddhartha Gautama, and so it would have had particular significance to the people of that time, particularly if you counted each of the first two Ages as 500 years each, meaning that the word of the Buddha, that his teachings would spread to the East, would have been completed just as we entered the latter days of the Law. Regardless of the time—and, as I said earlier, 538 is the more accepted date—the general events described – the statue, the offer of Soga to experiment, and the resulting events - are usually agreed to, although even here we must pause, slightly and ask a few questions. First off, was this truly the first time that Buddhism had ever shown up in Japan?  The answer to that is probably not.  There had been many waves of immigrants that had come over to Japan from the peninsula, and even if only a small handful of them had adopted the new religion before coming over it is likely that there were pockets of worshippers.  Later, we will see that there are people in Japan who are said to have had prior experience as a monk, or who had their own Buddhist images.  These images were probably used by people in their homes—there is no evidence of any particular temples that had been built, privately or otherwise, and so there is no evidence that we have any active monks or nuns in the archipelago, but who knows what was going on in communities outside of the elite core?  There were plenty of things that were never commented on if it wasn't directly relevant to the court. Furthermore, with all of the envoys that had been to Baekje, surely some of them had experience with Buddhism.  And then there were the envoys *from* Baekje, who no doubt brought Buddhist practices with them.  So there was likely some kind of familiarity with the religion's existence, even if it wasn't necessarily fully understood. The second point that many people bring up is the role of the sovereign, Ame Kunioshi, or whomever was in charge at the time that the first image came over.  While the Nihon Shoki attempts to portray a strong central government with the sovereign at its head, we've already seen how different households had arisen and taken some measure of power for themselves.  At the end of the 5th and into the early 6th century, the Ohotomo and Mononobe houses were preeminent, with Ohotomo Kanamura taking on actions such as negotiating dealings with the continent and even manuevering around the Crown Prince.  The Mononobe wielded considerable authority through their military resources, and now, the Soga appeared to ascendant.  It is quite possible that the idea of the sovereign giving any sort of permission or order to worship Buddhism is simply a political fig leaf added by the Chroniclers.  The Soga may have been much more independent in their views and dealings.  To better understand this, let's take a look at the uji family system and the Soga family in particular. Now the Nihon Shoki paints a picture as though these noble uji families were organic, and simply part of the landscape, descending from the kami in the legendary age, with lineages leading down to the present day, although there is some acknowledgment that the earliest ancestors did not necessarily use the family names until a later date.  For much of Japanese history, the concept that these family, or uji, were one of the core building blocks of ancient Japanese political and cultural spheres is taken as a matter of course.  However, in more modern studies, this view has been questioned, and now the prevailing view is that these families are somewhat different.  In fact, the uji are likely just as much an artificial construct as the corporate -Be family labor groups. According to this theory, early on people were associated with local groups and places.  Outside of the immediate family, groups were likely held together by their regional ties as much as anything else.  Names appear to be locatives, with ancient titles indicating the -hiko or -hime of this or that area. Some time in the 5th century, Yamato—and possibly elsewhere in the peninsula—began to adopt the concept of -Be corporate groups from Baekje.  We talked about this back in Episode 63, using the Hata as a prime example of how these groups were brought together.  More importantly, though, was that each of these -Be groups reported to someone in the court, sometimes with a different surname.  These were the uji, created along with the -Be to help administer the labor and work of running the state.  They were essentially arms of the state itself, in many ways.  The kabane system of titles emphasizes this, with different families having different ranks depending on what they did, whether locally, regionally, or at the central court.  Some of these titles, like -Omi and -Kimi, were likely once actual jobs, but eventually it came to represent something more akin to a social ranking. There have been some questions and emails asking for a bit more in depth on this, and I'd really like to, but I'm afraid that would be too much for now.  At the moment I want to focus more on the uji, particularly on those at the top - the uji with the kabane of either Omi or Muraji, as these are the ones most likely to be helping to directly run the government.  They even had their own geographical areas within the Nara basin, and elsewhere, that were uji strongholds.  The Hata had areas near modern Kyoto, the Mononobe clearly had claims to land around Isonokami, in modern Tenri, and the Soga clan had their holdings in the area of modern Asuka and Kashihara city.  At the very least, that is where Soga no Iname's house was—in Mukuhara and Oharida, both located in the modern area of Asuka, which will become important in the future. It wasn't just the landholdings that were important, though.  Each uji had some part to play in the functioning of the government.  In many cases it was the production or control of a particular service, such as the Hata and silk weaving, or the Mononobe and their affinity with all things military.  For the Soga, they appear to have had a rather interesting portfolio. Traditionally, the Soga family is said to trace its lineage back to Takechi no Sukune, the first Oho-omi back in the time of Okinaga no Tarashi Hime and Homuda Wake no Ohokimi—see episode 46 for more on him.  That lineage is likely fabricated, however, and the earliest actual evidence for the family may be from the Kogoshui, where we are told that Soga no Machi was put in charge of the Three Treasuries.  These were the Imikura, or sacred treasury; the Uchikura, or royal household treasury; and the Ohokura, the government treasury.  This seems like quite the position of responsibility, and it would fit with some of what we see later as the Soga are involved in helping set up Miyake, the various royal storehouses across the land that acted as Yamato court administrative centers for the purposes of collecting goods and funneling them to the court, as well as keeping an eye on the local regions.  Although here I feel I would be remiss if I didn't also note that the “Three Treasuries”, or “Sanzou” is one way to translate the Tripitaka, and given the Soga's role, I don't think I can entirely ignore that point. So the Soga family had experience with administration, and specifically they were dealing with a variety of different goods produced in different regions.  If that is the case, then their authority did not necessarily derive from the standard uji-be constructed familial connections, but rather they were deriving positional authority from the central government itself.  This may seem like common sense to us, but in the world of ancient Yamato, where family connections were everything, this may have been something new and innovative—and very in keeping with various continental models of administration.  It is quite likely that the Soga were dealing with some of the latest innovations in government and political authority, which would also have opened them up to the possibility of new ideas. In addition, their position meant they likely had wide-ranging contacts across the archipelago and even onto the peninsula.  The Soga themselves have connections to the peninsula in the names of some of their members, such as Soga no Karako, where “Karako” can be translated as a “Son of Kara” or a “Son of Gaya”, possibly referring to their origins, and Soga no Kouma, where “Kouma” is a general term for Goguryeo, and so quite possibly indicates a connection with them as well.  On top of that, there is a now-out-of-favor theory that once suggested that Soga no Machi might be the same as Moku Machi, an important Baekje official in the late 5th century.  While that has been largely discredited, the fact that “Machi” is possibly of Baekje origin cannot be entirely overlooked. Then there are a series of notes in the Nihon Shoki, particularly surrounding the area of Shirai, in the land of Kibi.  These start in 553, just one year after Soga no Iname's failed attempt to launch a Buddhist temple, at least according to the Nihon Shoki's record of events.  It is a relatively simple note, but it mentions how Soga no Iname made a man by the name of Wang Jinnie the “Funa no Fubito”, or “Recorder of Ships”, and put him in charge of the shipping tax—all at the behest of the sovereign, of course. Later, in 555, Soga no Iname went with Hozumi no Iwayumi no Omi to Kibi, where they consolidated five districts, or agata, under the administration of a single administrative Miyake in Shirawi.  Later, in 556, he would go back to Kibi and establish a Miyake in Kojima, putting in place Katsuraki no Yamada as the Tazukai, or “rural rice field governor”.  That same year he and others went to the Takachi district in Yamato and established the Miyake of Ohomusa, or “Great Musa”, for immigrants from Baekje and then Womusa, or “Small Musa”, for immigrants from Goguryeo. In 569, the person that Soga no Iname had put in charge of recording the ships, Wang Jinnie, had a nephew, Itsu—or possibly Danchin, depending on how you read it—go out to Shirawi to take a census.  This is the same Shirawi that Soga no Iname had helped establish in 555.  Itsu becomes the Shirawi no Obito, and in 574 we see Soga no Umako, Iname's heir, heading out to Shirawi with an updated register for Itsu. So, in short, the Soga family clearly is doing a lot of government administration, and particularly of the Miyake, which is the extension of the court authority into the rest of the archipelago.  On top of that, look at how often the names that are coming up in conjunction with what they are doing are referencing immigrant groups.  Even the Hozumi family are known at this point for their work on the peninsula, and we see the Soga heavily involved with the Wang family and their fortunes, not to mention Greater and Lesser Musa and the Baekje and Goguryeo individuals there.  Wang Jinnie will have even more of a part to play, but we'll hold onto that for later. Given everything we can see about how they are operating, is it any surprise that the Soga would advocate in favor of Buddhism?  I'd also note that, while other clans have clear connections to heavenly ancestors and kami whom they worshipped, it is unclear to me if the Soga had anything similar.  There is mention in the 7th century of the creation of a shrine to their titular ancestors, Takeuchi no Sukune and Ishikawa no Sukune, and today there is a shrine that is dedicated to Soga tsu Hiko and Soga tsu Hime—Basically just lord and lady Soga.  But there isn't anything like the spirit of Futsunushi or Ohomononushi, let alone an Amaterasu or Susano'o. Why is that important?  Well, prior to the 6th century, a lot of clans claimed authority from the ritual power they were perceived to wield, often related to the prestige of their kami.  One of the ways that Yamato influence had spread was through the extension of the Miwa cult across the archipelago, and there were even members of the Himatsuribe and the Hioki-be, basically groups of ritualists focused on sun worship, which upheld the royal house.  The Mononobe controlled Isonokami shrine, where they worshipped their Ujigami, Futsu-mitama, the spirit of the sound of the sword.  And then there were the Nakatomi, who haven't had much to do in the narrative so far, but we know that they were court ritualists, responsible for ensuring that proper rituals were carried out by the court for the kami to help keep balance in the land. The dispute between the Soga and the Mononobe and Nakatomi is presented as a struggle between a foreign religion and the native kami of Japan—leaving aside any discussion, for now, about just how “native” said kami actually were.  This is, in fact, the primary story that gets told again and again, that the Mononobe and Nakatomi were simply standing up for their beliefs, sincerely believing that if too many people started worshipping foreign gods then it would supplant the worship already present in the islands. And that may have been a genuine fear at the time, but I would suggest that it was only a small one.  What seems more apparent is that we are really looking at just an old fashioned power struggle.  Because what all of the information we have about the Soga distills down to is: they were the new kid on the block.  The Soga were the up and coming nobility.  They had connections with the continent and various immigrant groups.  That gave them access to new ideas and new forms of resources.  The Mononobe were built on a more traditionalist line.  They had been around, ever since at least Wakatake no Ohokimi, playing a significant role in things, alongside the Ohotomo.  The Mononobe were at their apex, claiming descent through their own Heavenly Grandson, and having held sway at court through numerous reigns at this point.   They represent, in many ways, the old guard. Worship of a fancy new religious icon—effectively a new kami—threatened to give the Soga even more power and sway.  They already had control of the three treasuries, if the Kogoshui is to be believed, and likely had a rather impressive administrative apparatus.  Soga no Iname had also ended up successfully marrying off two of his daughters to Ame Kunioshi, making him father-in-law to the current sovereign.  If he added to that a spiritual focus that people came to believe in, that would only enhance the Soga's power and place in the hierarchy. And what better way to taint all of that, and neutralize these upstarts, than to blame this new god for the plague and pestilence that was killing people.  We see it all too often, even today—when people are scared and when there are problems, the easiest people to scapegoat are the foreigners and the outsiders.  Those whom we do not see as “us”.  It was probably easy to turn the court against Buddhism, at least initially.  They threw the image in the canal and burned down the temple, and no doubt they were pleased with themselves. But that was merely the opening salvo, and as we'll see in the coming years, the Soga family were hardly done with Buddhism.  One can argue whether they were truly devout or if this was merely for political gain, but the Soga family tied themselves to this new foreign religion, for good or for ill, and they wouldn't be pushed around forever. When next we touch base on this topic we'll look at Soga no Iname's heir, Soga no Umako, and his attempts to start up where his father left off.  He would again clash with the Mononobe, and the outcome of that conflict would set the path for the next half a century.  It would also see Buddhism become firmly enmeshed with the apparatus of the state.  As this happens , we'll also see the character of Buddhist worship in the archipelago change.  Initially, the Buddha was treated little differently from any other kami, and based on the way it is described, probably worshiped in a very similar manner.  However, as more sutras came to light and as more people studied and learned about the religion—and as more immigrants were brought in to help explain how things were supposed to work—Buddhism grew in the islands to be its own distinct entity.  In fact the growth of Buddhism would even see the eventual definition of “Shinto”, the “Way of the Gods”, a term that was never really needed until there was another concept for native practices to be compared against. Before we leave off, there is one other story I'd like to mention.  It is tangential to our immediate discussion of Buddhism and the Soga, but I think you may find it of interest, nonetheless.  This is the story of just what happened—supposedly—to that first Buddhist icon that was tossed into the Naniwa canal. Because you see, according to tradition, that gilt-bronze icon did not stay stuck in the mud and muck of the canal, nor did it just disappear.  Instead there is a tradition that it was found almost a century later.  The person who retrieved it was named Honda no Yoshimitsu, and from Naniwa he traveled all the way to Shinano, to the area of modern Nagano, and there he would found a temple in 642.  Another reading of his name, Yoshimitsu, is Zenko, and so the temple is named Zenkoji, and you can still go and visit it today.  In fact, the main hall of Zenkoji is considered a national treasure, and it was featured prominently during the 1998 Winter Olympics in Nagano, Japan.  It is a popular attraction for tourist both in Japan and from abroad, and if you get a chance I highly recommend going to see it.  On the street leading up to the temple entrance are many traditional shops that still sell various foods and traditional arts and crafts, and there are many intriguring features.  For example, there is a narrow walkway underneath the main temple that is completely dark, where you are meant to feel along the wall to try to find the key to enlightenment, a kind of physical metaphor of Buddhist teaching. And of course there is the icon that Honda Yoshimitsu is said to have fished out of the canal. According to the temple, the icon still exists, and many worshippers believe it to be the oldest extant Buddhist icon in Japan, even older than the icons at Horyuji.  However, there is one catch—nobody is allowed to see it.  Shortly after it was installed in the temple, the statue was hidden in a special container, or zushi, and it became what is known as a hidden Buddha.  This is a tradition particularly prevalent in Japan, where some Buddhas are hidden away and only brought out on very special occasions.  Some cynics might note that those occasions are often when the temple needs to raise funds.  As for this hidden Buddha, however, it has not been seen more than a handful of times since it was locked away in the 7th century. Despite that, we know what it looks like—or at least what it is supposed to look like.  The image is said to be a triad, and though the Nihon Shoki claims it was an image of Shakyamuni, the central figure of the Zenkoji triad is actually the figure of Amida, aka Amithabha, as in the Pure Land sect of Buddhism.  Amida Nyorai is flanked by two attendants.  We know all of this because a copy of the Zenkoji image was made in the Kamakura period, and that image, said to be a faithful recreation of the original is also kept at Zenkoji.  While the original is kept hidden in the back, the replica, which is thought to have all of the miraculous powers of the original, sits in front, and is therefore called the Maedachi Honzon, basically the image standing in front, vice the original, the Gohonzon, the main image. Except it gets even better, because the replica is *also* kept hidden away most of the time, and only revealed on special occasions, known as Gokaicho, or “opening of the curtain”, which occurs once every seven years. The Zenkoji triad became extremely important in later centuries, and copies were made and installed in sub-temples throughout Japan.  Even today you may find a Zenkoji-style triad here or there, each one considered to have a spiritual tie back to the original, and some of them even have inscriptions confirming that they are, indeed, Zenkoji style triads Of course, the big question remains: does the original image actually still exist, and is there any chance that it actually is as old as it claims to be?  There really is no good way of knowing.  Zenkoji is not offering to open up the zushi any time soon.  We do know a few things, however.  We know that the temple has burned down at least 11 times over the years, and the Gohonzon was rescued each time, or so they say.  There are some who claim that it still exists, but perhaps it is damaged.  If that is the case, how did they make the replica, though? There was an inspection during the Edo period.  There was a rumor that it had been stolen, and so an Edo official was sent to check on the status.  They reported that it was still there, but crucially they never described actually laying eyes on the statue.  In one account where a monk did open the box it is said that their was a blinding light—kind of like the Ark of the Covenant in Indiana Jones but just overwhelming; no faces were melted, at least none that were reported. The monks of Zenkoji, when asked how they know the image is still there, will point to the weight of the container, which, when lifted, is apparently considerable.  They say that is how they know it is still there.  Of course, a melted lump of metal might be the same weight as it was when it was full statue, as long as it didn't lose any actual mass, so it is hard to tell if it is still in good condition. Even with all of that, there is the question about the veracity of the original objects lineage to begin with.  Did Honda Yoshimitsu really just find *the* original statue?  And even if he did, how would he have known what it was?  Was there an inscription:  To Yamato, from Baekje, hugs and kisses? I've yet to see anyone directly compare the purported replica with other statues, but I suspect that would be the route to at least check the age, but nobody seems to be saying that the style of the replica is blatantly wrong for a 6th or 7th century icon from the peninsula or by peninsular craftsmen.  Then again, there were plenty of local immigrants in the Naniwa area who could have potentially crafted an image.  Indeed, the area around modern Nagano even has traces of Goguryeo style burial cairns, possibly from immigrants settled out there to help with early horse cultivation, and so there is even the possibility that there were locals with the connections and skills to craft something. If you really want to know more, there is an entire work by Donald McCallum, titled “Zenkoji and Its Icon”, on not just the icon but the entire worship that sprang up around it and caused copies to spread throughout the archipelago. And that's where we will leave off for this episode.  In the next couple of episodes I want to finish up some of the secular history of this reign, and look a little bit outside of Yamato and the evidence in the Chronicles as well. 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 episode we look at the transmission of Buddhism through the 1st to 5th centuries from India, to the Kushan Empire, and across the Silk Road to the Han and succeeding dynasties, and even to Baekje, on the Korean peninsula. For more, especially photos, please check out https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-84   Rough Transcript:   Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is Episode 84: The Middle Way through the Middle Kingdom. First things first, thank you to Bodil, Gabe, and Lauren for donating to support the show on Ko-Fi and Patreon.  If you'd like to join them, will have information at the end of the episode. Also an apology—if my voice isn't in tip-top shape, well, it seems that COVID finally found us after 3 years or so, and I'm on the tail end of it.  So thank you for your understanding. Last episode we talked about Siddhartha Gautama, aka Shakyamuni, the Historical Buddha, and his teachings, and how they spread, at least through the Indian subcontinent, with the patronage of rulers like Ashoka the Great.  The original teachings, initially taught as an oral tradition, was eventually turned into a series of writings, called the Tripitaka. As for how those writings came about, it's worth talking about the languages involved. The native language of Shakyamuni was probably a language known as Maghadi, or something similar.  But the Indian subcontinent, including the modern countries of India, Pakistan, Bangladesh, Bhutan, Nepal, and Afghanistan, is over three times the size of western Europe.  There are at eight south Asian language families, with hundreds of different languages, depending on how you count them.  The modern state of India counts 22 official languages, not including English.  I mention this to point out that as the Buddha's disciples spread his teachings, they were, by necessity, translating it into different languages. There is a story that a student suggested to the Buddha that they make Sanskrit the official language of Buddhism.  Even then, Sanskrit was considered a language of learning and education, much as Greek or Latin was in medieval Europe, but the Buddha rejected this and insisted that his teachings be taught in people's own tongue.  This proved great for reaching people, but over time there was a fear that the oral teachings might be lost, and so they were written down. The oldest written Buddhist canon is generally agreed to be texts in Pali, commissioned in Sri Lanka.  These are sometimes called the southern Tripitaka—or Tipitaka in Pali—and it is the primary canon for Theravada Buddhists.  In the north, however, Sanskrit remained the prominent language of learning, and texts written down and transmitted in the north—particularly those that made it to China and on to Japan—were typically Sanskrit or translations of Sanskrit texts.  This is what some refer to as the Northern Tripitaka.  Both of these were transcriptions of the oral teachings that Buddhist monks were otherwise memorizing and presenting to the Buddhist community.  That oral tradition, in fact, never really went away, and these early texts were more like a reference so that monks could check their memory.  Chanting the sutras—and especially chanting from memory—remained a highly prized skill of Buddhist orators. Now, the split between northern and southern texts is convenient, but it isn't necessarily as simple as all that.  We have plenty of examples of texts, particularly in the northern traditions, that don't necessarily have an extant Sanskrit counterpart.  In fact, the oldest extant sutras of any tradition that we have today are known as the Gandharan sutras, and written in the Ghandari language using a Karosthi script.  Gandhara refers to a region centered north and west of the Indus river, in modern Pakistan, stretching to the Kabul river valley in modern Afghanistan and north to the Karakoram mountains, which is one of the interlocking ranges that form the boundary between modern Pakistan and India and modern China and the Tibetan plateau.  It is believed to be the namesake of the city of Kandahar, in modern Afghanistan. This area was important, and not just to Buddhism.  For thousands of years it has been a crossroads between the Indian subcontinent, the area known as the Middle East, and the inner trade routes of central Eurasia.  It was part of the conquest by Alexander the Great in the 4th century BCE, becoming part of his kingdom, but then it was lost in battle to the Mauryan empire, which Ashoka the Great ruled in the 3rd century BCE.  The area later fell to Indo-Greek rule from members of the Greco-Bactrian kingdom to the north.  The most famous ruler during this period was probably Menander I, who is also remembered as a patron of Buddhism, building more stupas and monasteries in the region. The Hellenic Greco-Bactrians were eventually displaced by tribes of the Yuezhi, who themselves were being displaced by the Xiongnu, in central Eurasia.  In this epic game of musical chairs, a branch of the Yuezhi eventually settled in the area, ruling a large territory, including Gandhara, under what is known as the Kushan empire.  They had first moved into the area of Bactria and Sogdiana probably around the 1st or 2nd century BCE, and by the 1st century CE they were exerting authority over Gandhara.   Around the time the Gandharan sutras were written down, in the 1st or 2nd centuries, Buddhism—especially Mahayana Buddhism—was flourishing in the region, and Kanishka the Great—don't you love how all of these rulers are known as “the Great”, by the way?—ruled the Kushan empire, and hence Gandhara, in the early 2nd century.  He is said to have been a great patron of Buddhism, although it was one of several religions, including Zoroastrianism, that flourished in the region at this time. The Kushan empire is believed to be the same Yuezhi that we mentioned in episode 79, when we talked about the Han diplomat Zhang Qian, who had trekked through hostile Xiongnu, or Hunna, territory across much of what is now western China in the 2nd century BCE, seeking allies against the Hunna.  At that point, the Yuezhi had had enough of war, however, and they declined to fight, preferring to settle where they were and eventually growing into the Kushan empire.  That connection with the Han dynasty, however, likely was maintained through trade routes that continued to operate across the vast expanse of central Eurasia.  The Han dynasty itself continued to send out diplomatic missions to the various states of central Eurasia, and of course there were trade routes. As the Kushan empire expanded into the Tarim basin, it met once again with the Han, who had defeated the Hunna, and then claimed routes across the oasis towns of the desert regions.  While the routes would have high and low periods, often depending on the state of various conflicts, in general it seems that Buddhist missionaries probably made it to the Han dynasty and the Yellow River region, and founded monasteries, as early as the first century CE and certainly by the second century.  And, by our best understanding, the folks in these monasteries were already doing a lot of copying and translation of texts – both as a meritorious act, and to spread the word.  Since this is around the time the Gandharan texts were written, they were likely a part of this larger tradition of copying and translating that was going on, although many of those early documents did not survive intact to the modern day. One of the earliest records of Buddhism in the Han dynasty is a record dated to 65 CE.  Liu Ying, Prince of Chu and son of Emperor Guangwu of Han, sponsored Buddhism—as well as a school of Daoism—in attempts to better understand longevity and immortality.  While he was eventually accused of treason, putting something of a damper on his patronage of the religion, it is the first mention we have in the histories of Buddhism, and in some ways it speaks to something else about the initial acceptance of Buddhism. While there were likely those well-versed in Buddhism, particularly in the community of foreigners from the Western Regions, evidence suggests that for many lay people it was just as likely about what people thought that the religion could do for them in this life as anything else.  After all, there are many stories of miraculous events, and there was the concept of reincarnation and karma—the idea that by building merit, one could improve their lot in the next life.  There was even a belief that by building merit, one could improve their lot in the current life—and apparently extend their life or even, possibly, gain immortality. Sure, there were the more intellectual and philosophical endeavors, but for many people Buddhism was just as much about what it could do for them in the here and now.  Stories of monks and other holy men fit in right alongside stories of Daoist immortals.  In Han tombs, where Buddhist imagery is found, it is often found with or in place of the Queen Mother of the West—the same image that is found on many of the bronze mirrors that traveled across to the Japanese archipelago around this time.  It was likely that many of the early stories that the laypeople heard were probably fragments as much as anything.  Even with the Tripitaka written down, much of the transmission was still done orally.  Furthermore, it was in translation—and probably a translation of a translation. The earliest stories of Buddhism's transmission—particularly the translation of texts into Sinitic characters, the lingua franca of East Asia—claim that first the Theravada canon, and then later Mahayana texts, were translated in the second century, with foreigners from Parthia and Kushan credited with the early translations.  Others would continue the work, and at first it was mostly people from the Western Regions doing the translating. One of the earliest stories of sutras making their way to the Han dynasty comes from the time of Liu Ying, when his brother, Emperor Ming, sat on the throne.  The stories claim that the emperor saw an image of a golden Buddha, and that he requested either a statue or temple be erected.  So he sent people off to Kushan, where they found two monks who would come back with them in 68 CE, bringing portraits and scripture—specifically the “Sutra of Forty-Two Chapters”, which the two monks helped translate into a Sinitic version at Baimasi, or White Horse Temple.  As such, this “Sutra of Forty-Two Chapters” has been accorded a status as the first such Buddhist work to be brought to the area that is, today, modern China, and the White Horse Temple, located in Luoyang, is counted as one of the earliest temples in the Yellow River region.  That said, there are a lot of questions as to the authenticity of this tale, though it does mirror others about the arrival of Buddhism in the East, even if we cannot verify the actual first temple or work. Although Buddhism arrived during the Han dynasty, it wouldn't really begin to fully develop until after the dynasty's fall in the 3rd century.  During the Southern and Northern Dynasties period, the metaphysical and doctrinal beliefs of Buddhism began to penetrate the elite circles in a more tangible way.  Much of the philosophical underpinnings blended well with the interest at the time in “Dark Studies” and the school of “Pure Conversation”, which we discussed back in episode 72.  While Buddhist temples, much like their Daoist brethren, found some sanctuary from the chaos that created this period in the mountains and hills—not to mention a bit of added spiritual cachet—it was really the opportunity to gain greater state patronage that also helped. Monks like Zhi Dun began to reconcile Buddhist thought and doctrine with local beliefs.  In some cases, local religious figures—including gods and other spirits—were incorporated into the Buddhist framework, often by their “conversion” to the Buddha's teachings.  This was one of the strengths of Buddhism—although it carried with it a framework of Indian religious teachings and thoughts, it was not exclusive in its cosmological outlook.  Buddhism was more focused on helping one escape the suffering of this world, which would take you beyond all such things.  As the doctrines were meant for all beings—not just humans, but for animals, spirits, gods, and even demons—there was nothing to necessarily exclude other beliefs.  This helped some of the ethnic Han dynasties to accept and even promote Buddhism.  Meanwhile, some of the non-ethnic Han dynasties patronized Buddhism for either its miraculous powers or just because it was a foreign religion, much like they were foreigners in the Yellow River Basin.  In many cases, state-sponsorship was a two way street.  Dynasts would set themselves up as holy men, claiming to be Boddhisatvas.  They would even appropriate the concept of the Cakravartin, a Buddhist “Golden-Wheel-Turning-King”, which had overtones of cosmic overlordship.  I can see how that would fit in quite well with local concepts that a sovereign might lay claim to ruling “all under heaven” and be carrying out a “Heavenly mandate”. Along the Yangzi River, Buddhist monks gained a certain amount of independence.  They were not expected to bow to the sovereign, for example; an acknowledgment of their holy nature.  In the northern Wei dynasty, however, it was a different story.  There, the ruler was said to be no less than an incarnation of the Buddha, and a Chief Monk was selected to oversee the Sangha and no doubt ensure that the various Buddhist communities were in line with official dogma. At the same time, the government provided captured men and women to work fields to help pay for Buddhist temples and their work.  Likewise, people would make merit by donating wealth and land to temples, in hopes of blessings either in this current life or in the next life.  For their part, the temples were expected to act as storehouses or granaries—the wealth that poured into them would be used to help alleviate suffering, especially in the case of droughts or floods.  It soon became clear, however, that more wealth was going into the temples than was necessarily coming out.  There were attempts to reign in this Buddhist establishment, often by limiting the number of temples or even the number of monks, as well as limiting what people could donate.  These same edicts were undercut by the elites of the country, however, and often proved less than effectual. Along with sutras and Buddhist teachings, Buddhist images and architecture spread widely.  In India and the Western Regions, a key aspect of many temples was the stupa.  This was a mound containing a relic of some sort.  Originally these relics were said to be remnants of the Buddha, after he had been cremated.  Later, it was said that the remnants of the Buddha turned hard, like crystal, and that the original remains were gathered up and distributed to even more stupas.  Later they may contain other relics, as well. The stupa was an important part of the Buddhist temple, but over time, its character changed.  Instead of a mound like we still see in Southeast Asia, we start to see a building—a tower—which became a ubiquitous symbol of Buddhist temples in East Asia.  This multi-level pagoda originally started off with simply three levels, often made of brick and stone, but over time it grew with five or seven levels.  These towers were inspired by a description in the Lotus Sutra, a Mahayana text, that described a bejeweled seven-storey tower. Speaking of the Lotus Sutra, this was one of the many teachings that made its way to East Asia, and a hugely influential one.  It purports to tell the story of a sermon by the Buddha outside of those mentioned in the Theravada texts.  The teachings expounded upon in the Lotus Sutra had a great impact on Mahayana Buddhism and how people viewed the teachings of the Buddha.  For one, it also proposed the idea that the Buddha did not actually cease to exist when he attained nirvana, but is simply no longer visible. He still remains in the world to help all life find salvation from suffering.  That goes along with the concept of the Bodhisattva, a being who attains a Buddha-like understanding but out of compassion remains in the world to assist others. The Lotus Sutra also made claims such as the idea that anyone could attain Buddhahood, if they followed the teachings—and not just one particular set of teachings.  It opened the idea that there were multiple vehicles—that is to say different practices—that would all get you to the truth, to Englightenment.  Even the term “Mahayana” means the “Great Vehicle”, while Mahayana sees Theravada as “Hinayana”, the “Lesser Vehicle”.  Both will get you where you need to be, but Mahayana offers an exapansion of teachings and texts that Theravada Buddhism does not necessarily accept as authentic.  Indeed in Mahayana belief we also see a focus on multiple Buddhas with different specialties – not only the historical Buddha, but Vairocana, aka Dainichi Nyorai, the Great Solar Buddha, Amitabha, aka Amida Nyorai or Amida Butsu, and so on. In comparison, the Theravada school tend to be more dogmatic on various points of practice and belief, claiming that they focus on the actual teachings of the Historical Buddha and not necessarily looking for extra texts and practices.  There may have been Buddhas in previous ages that attained nirvana and departed this existence, but the Buddha of the current age is the historical Buddha, Shakyamuni.  Another Buddha, Maitreya, is not expected for another five to ten thousand years—not until the teachings of the Buddha have been forgotten and are once again required.  Acquiring freedom from this existence through nirvana is not necessarily one and the same with obtaining Buddhahood—the enlightened understanding required to save all beings. There is another school, “Vajrayana”, the “Lightning” or “Diamond” vehicle.  It focuses on tantric, or esoteric teachings, which practitioners believe provide a more direct, and faster method to enlightenment.  Many secret teachings, or mikkyo in Japanese, can trace themselves in some way to these practices, though it likely didn't make it to East Asia until the Tang dynasty or so in the 8th century, so we'll come back to it when we get to things like Kuukai and Saichou, who brought Shingon and Tendai, respectively, to Japan in the early 9th century—about four centuries from our current chronological position.  Both the Mahayana and Vajrayana schools included the teachings from the Lotus Sutra, which would become one of the most important sutras, certainly by the Tang dynasty, as well as in the Korean Peninsula and the Japanese archipelago.  Its widespread dissemination is often attributed to the famous monk Kumarajiva.  Kumarajiva was a citizen of Kucha, one of the oasis towns along the northern edge of the Tarim Basin, and site of a bustling metropolis and capital of one of the largest oasis kingdoms in the Tarim basin.  Even today, you can see remnants of the ancient city in the desert, and the dry conditions have preserved a number of artifacts, including plenty of texts referencing Buddhist and other beliefs. Kumarajiva traveled from the peripheral city of Dunhuang, another site renowned for its Buddhist roots, especially the famous Mogao caves—a series of Buddhist grottoes built into a cliff face which, along with the dry conditions, have exquisitely preserved the early sculpture and painting, as well as, again, numerous documents.  He came to Chang'an around 401, and he helped translated numerous Buddhist scriptures into Sinitic characters, which could then be shared and read by people across East Asia—everywhere in the ancient Sinic sphere of influence. Besides the Lotus Sutra, another famous text told of the Buddha Amithabha, aka Amida Butsu in Japan.  Amithabha's teachings claimed that any who would call on the name of Amithabha, or just picture them in their mind with a sincere heart, would, on their death, find themselves reborn in a Western Paradise—a “Pure Land” where there were no distractions other than to meditate on the Buddha's teachings and eventually attain freedom from this existence.  Whereas many of the teachings and theological discussions of the various Buddhist schools could get quite complex—thus almost requiring any serious student to join a monastery if they wanted to truly study a particular flavor—the teachings of Amithabha were appealing to those without necessarily a lot of time or resources.  It boiled down to a few practices that just about anyone could do.  It didn't require that you donate huge sums of money or land, or that you spend all your day copying scriptures.  One could chant the name of Amithabha in the fields as you were working, or picture them in your mind as you prepared for bed. These kinds of practices—the chanting of particular mantras or other such things—became a kind of thing people could do to help protect themselves or ward off evil.  A particular example of this practice is preserved in a text from Dunhuang, which has a colophon explaining its purpose.  According to Patricia Ebrey's translation, the text, which was copied by someone named Sun Sizhong, was an incantation that, if said 7, 14, or 21 times a day, with various somatic and material components (willow twig to cleanse the mouth, scattering flowers and incense before the image of the Buddha, and kneeling and joining the palms of the hands) it would clear away the four grave sins, the five wicked acts, and other transgressions.  “The current body would not be afflicted by “untimely” calamities, and one will be reborn into the realm of immeasurably long life.  Plus, reincarnation in the female form would be escaped forever.” On that last piece—yeah, Buddhism came with a little bit of baggage.  In ordering all of life, men were seen as inherently higher on the ladder than women.  This discrimination has been walked back or even abolished in some modern interpretations, but it was definitely present in older beliefs. Besides the power of the incantation if said 7, 13, or 21 times a day, Sun Sizhong went on to explain that if someone recited it 100 times in the evening and then at noon and it will ensure rebirth in the “Western Regions”, while 200,000 recitations gets you perfect intelligence, and 300,000 recitations, one will see Amitabha Buddha face to face and be reborn in the Pure Land. As you can probably start to see, there were many different beliefs and teachings that fell under the Mahayana teachings, and many of the texts were translations.  Even those that had been translated into Sinitic, it was often done by foreigners for whom the local Sinic language was not their native tongue, so there was always a kind of awareness that important pieces might have been lost in translation along the way.  In the 5th century, this led some monks to make the particularly long and dangerous journey all the way to Kushan and on to India, to access the original primary sources for themselves.  One of these was a monk by the name of Faxian. At the age of 62, Faxian decided to go to India to try to get to the heart of what the Buddha really taught.  He set out in 399, traveled across the Tarim Basin and into the Kashmir region and the Indus Valley—Gandhara, in modern Pakistan.  From there he traveled to central India and arrived at Patna, where he stayed and studied for three years.  He traveled around, seeking out works in Sanskrit on Buddhsit ethics and teachings, studying the local languages as well.  In 410 he made his way to the mouth of the Ganges and down to Sri Lanka, where he stayed for almost two years before boarding a ship and traveling home—traveling through the straits of Malacca and around Southeast Asia to take the sea route back to his home. The journey was perilous, and at least twice the boat lost its way.  According to the stories, some of his fellow travelers, who followed more Brahmanic teachings rather than Buddhist, believed that Faxian and his quote-unquote “heretical” teachings were what were leading them astray.  Faxian was able to maintain order and he and his books eventually made it safely to the Shandong peninsula in or around 412. He made his way down to Jiankang, aka modern Nanjing on the Yangzi river.  There he spent the rest of his life translating the scriptures he had brought back.  Others would make similar journeys, all to try to find more authentic versions of the texts—which usually meant finding the Sanskrit version—and then creating translations from those. With the growth in popularity in Buddhism, it is probably little wonder that it eventually made its way over to the Korean peninsula.  It is hard to say exactly when Buddhism arrived, but the Baekje annals in the Samguk Sagi claim that it was brought there by a monk of Central Asia descent in about 384.  One year later, we are told the king of Baekje erected a temple and caused ten men to become monks. The timing of this generally accords with some of the information in the Nihon Shoki, which claims that Buddhism first came from the Western Regions to the Han dynasty, and then to Baekje 300 years later, and then to Yamato about 100 years after that.  While the dates aren't exact, this generally accords with what we know of the way that Buddhism traveled to East Asia and to Baekje, at least. Although we have textual evidence, there isn't much archaeological evidence for Buddhism on the Korean peninsula in this time outside of urban centers.   That is where we find temple rooftiles and other indications that Buddhism was practiced, but at the time it was probably something more common amongst elites than the common people, at least in the 4th and early 5th centuries.  With the invasions by Goguryeo  and the loss of northern territory in about 475, it did gain increased patronage.  Still, it wasn't until the 6th century that it really left the urban centers, which is roughly the time we are talking about with the Yamato sovereign Ame Kunioshi, aka Kimmei Tennou. Next episode we'll get into just how Buddhism came over to the islands—or at least what is recorded and what we have evidence for—in the sixth century.  We'll also talk about its reception and its patronage by the famous Soga clan.  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.

A huge modern find of a multitude of transcribed Buddhist teachings in various languages and collections in a transitional area between Northeastern India into China and the Middle Eastern states.

Following the death of Menander I Soter, the Indo-Greeks would decline in power over the next 150 years as the newly arrived Indo-Scythians/Indo-Saka seized the Punjab, and with the last king disappearing by 10 A.D, Greek rule in Central Asia and India was brought to a definitive end. In their wake, later powers like the Kushan Empire established control over Bactria and Gandhara, and trade with the Roman Empire would flourish along the sailing routes of the Indian Ocean. Despite the disappearance of the Greco-Bactrian and Indo-Greek kingdoms, evidence points to a survival of Hellenistic culture nearly five centuries after Alexander's death. Episode Notes: (https://hellenisticagepodcast.wordpress.com/2022/09/27/079-the-indo-greeks-homer-on-the-indus/) Episode 079 Transcript: (https://hellenisticagepodcast.files.wordpress.com/2022/09/079-the-indo-greeks-homer-on-the-indus.pdf) A Reader's Guide to Greco-Bactria and the Indo-Greeks: (https://hellenisticagepodcast.files.wordpress.com/2022/09/a-readers-guide-to-greco-bactria-and-the-indo-greeks.pdf) Social Media: Twitter (https://twitter.com/HellenisticPod) Facebook (www.facebook.com/hellenisticagepodcast/) Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/hellenistic_age_podcast/) Twitch (https://www.twitch.tv/hellenisticagepodcast) Show Merchandise: Etsy (https://www.etsy.com/shop/HellenisticAgePod) Redbubble (https://www.redbubble.com/people/HellenisticPod/shop?asc=u) Donations: Ko-Fi (https://ko-fi.com/hellenisticagepodcast) Amazon Book Wish List (https://tinyurl.com/vfw6ask)

It has been argued that the most influential contribution of Gandhara (modern Pakistan and southern Afghanistan) was its role in the creation of several works of art centered around Buddhist themes, including the first known depictions of the Buddha in human form. However, the Gandharan artists also drew a great amount of inspiration from the traditions of the Greco-Roman world, borrowing Hellenistic designs and mythological figures to tell the story of the Buddha in often powerful ways. Dr. Osmund Bopearachchi, a professor of South Asian history and author of numerous works on India from Alexander the Great through the Kushan Empire, presents a series of examples to not only give context to the Gandharan school within the artistic history of India, but also their ability to adapt many cultural influences to create something wholly original. Episode Notes: (https://hellenisticagepodcast.wordpress.com/2022/09/03/interview-greco-indian-and-buddhist-art-of-gandhara-with-dr-osmund-bopearachchi/) Visual Aid PDF (https://hellenisticagepodcast.files.wordpress.com/2022/09/interview-greco-indian-and-buddhist-art-of-gandhara-with-osmund-bopearachchi-visual-aid-hellenistic-age-podcast.pdf) Dr. Osmund Bopearachchi: Website (https://www.osmund-bopearachchi.com/) Social Media: Twitter (https://twitter.com/HellenisticPod) Facebook (www.facebook.com/hellenisticagepodcast/) Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/hellenistic_age_podcast/) Twitch (https://www.twitch.tv/hellenisticagepodcast) Show Merchandise: Etsy (https://www.etsy.com/shop/HellenisticAgePod) Redbubble (https://www.redbubble.com/people/HellenisticPod/shop?asc=u) Donations: Ko-Fi (https://ko-fi.com/hellenisticagepodcast) Amazon Book Wish List (https://tinyurl.com/vfw6ask)

In the wake of Alexander the Great, the traditions of Hellenism and Buddhism thought came into close contact in Central Asia and India. Lee Clarke, a PhD student in cross-cultural philosophy at Nottingham Trent University, joins the show to discuss the idea of “Greco-Buddhism”, tracing the origins of the Buddha and the establishment of his teachings in Gandhara, before comparing and contrasting the philosophical outlooks of Greek and Indian schools of thought like Pyrrhonian Skepticism and Mahayana Buddhism. Episode Notes: (https://hellenisticagepodcast.wordpress.com/2022/08/25/interview-greco-buddhism-in-central-asia-and-india-with-lee-clarke/) Lee Clarke: Twitter(https://twitter.com/OneAndOnlyLee05) Social Media: Twitter (https://twitter.com/HellenisticPod) Facebook (www.facebook.com/hellenisticagepodcast/) Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/hellenistic_age_podcast/) Twitch (https://www.twitch.tv/hellenisticagepodcast) Show Merchandise: Etsy (https://www.etsy.com/shop/HellenisticAgePod) Redbubble (https://www.redbubble.com/people/HellenisticPod/shop?asc=u) Donations: Ko-Fi (https://ko-fi.com/hellenisticagepodcast) Amazon Book Wish List (https://tinyurl.com/vfw6ask)

In antiquity, Gandhara was one of the most deeply-rooted hubs of Buddhism, and scholars have attempted to search for any possible encounters between Buddhists and the Greeks who settled in Central Asia and India. Fascinating pieces of evidence hint at these connections: the Pali text known as the Milindapañha ("The Questions of King Milinda") portrays the Indo-Greek king Menander I Soter as a Buddhist convert and saint swayed by the wisdom of the Sage Nagasena, while Emperor Ashoka dispatched missionaries to the Hellenistic kingdoms and ordered his beliefs to be inscribed in Greek on the rocks outside of Kandahar. Centuries later, the sculptors of Gandhara would adapt Greco-Roman mythology and designs to create beautiful works of art, resulting in the first known depictions of the Buddha in human form, and transforming the demigod Heracles into Heracles-Vajrapani, protector of the Buddha. Episode Notes: (https://hellenisticagepodcast.wordpress.com/2022/08/12/078-the-indo-greeks-heracles-menander-and-the-buddha/) Episode 078 Transcript: (https://hellenisticagepodcast.files.wordpress.com/2022/08/078-indo-greeks-heracles-menander-and-the-buddha-transcript.pdf) Social Media: Twitter (https://twitter.com/HellenisticPod) Facebook (www.facebook.com/hellenisticagepodcast/) Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/hellenistic_age_podcast/) Twitch (https://www.twitch.tv/hellenisticagepodcast) Show Merchandise: Etsy (https://www.etsy.com/shop/HellenisticAgePod) Redbubble (https://www.redbubble.com/people/HellenisticPod/shop?asc=u) Donations: Ko-Fi (https://ko-fi.com/hellenisticagepodcast) Amazon Book Wish List (https://tinyurl.com/vfw6ask)

With the collapse of the Mauryan Empire, the rulers of Greco-Bactria would seize the opportunity to invade India in approximately 185 B.C. Famous conquerors like Demetrius and Menander would campaign throughout the subcontinent, seizing the lands of Arachosia and Gandhara (southern Afghanistan and Pakistan) as their new domains, the so-called "Indo-Greek" kingdoms. Despite the hostilities, the Indo-Greeks would quickly acclimate to their new cultural environment: figures like Heliodorus, a Greek ambassador from Taxila and worshipper of Vasudeva-Krishna, or Sophytos, an Indian merchant from Alexandria-in-Arachosia who prided himself on his knowledge of Homer and Callimachus, provide hints of the complex interactions between the Hellenistic world and South Asia. Episode Notes: (https://hellenisticagepodcast.wordpress.com/2022/07/28/077-the-indo-greeks-invasion-of-the-yavanarajas/) Episode 077 Transcript: (https://hellenisticagepodcast.files.wordpress.com/2022/07/077-the-indo-greeks-invasion-of-the-yavanarajas-transcript.pdf) The Hellenistic Far East Map 4 - The Indo-Greek Kingdoms (https://hellenisticagepodcast.files.wordpress.com/2022/07/the-indo-greek-kingdom-map-4.pdf) Social Media: Twitter (https://twitter.com/HellenisticPod) Facebook (www.facebook.com/hellenisticagepodcast/) Instagram (https://www.instagram.com/hellenistic_age_podcast/) Twitch (https://www.twitch.tv/hellenisticagepodcast) Show Merchandise: Etsy (https://www.etsy.com/shop/HellenisticAgePod) Redbubble (https://www.redbubble.com/people/HellenisticPod/shop?asc=u) Donations: Ko-Fi (https://ko-fi.com/hellenisticagepodcast) Amazon Book Wish List (https://tinyurl.com/vfw6ask)

This episode is also available as a blog post: http://afghannewswire.com/2022/03/21/latest-from-kandahar-gandhara-afghanistan/

This episode is also available as a blog post: http://afghannewswire.com/2021/12/26/kandahar-afghanistan-the-city-of-gandhara/

#67 El arte de Gandhara - Historia del arte con KenzaEl fascinante arte greco-budista de Gandhara.Historia del arte con Kenza - Obras que encienden el asombro.Una serie sobre el arte a través del la historia y las culturas. Se presentarán obras que transcienden el tiempo por su belleza y por lo que nos cuenta.Nos puedes seguir a través de la cuenta Instagram Historia.del.arte.con.kenza, para descubrir las obras del podcast y muchas más.Producido por @RojoVenado See acast.com/privacy for privacy and opt-out information.

#67 El arte de Gandhara - Historia del arte con Kenza El fascinante arte greco-budista de Gandhara. Historia del arte con Kenza - Obras que encienden el asombro. Una serie sobre el arte a través del la historia y las culturas. Se presentarán obras que transcienden el tiempo por su belleza y por lo que nos cuenta. Nos puedes seguir a través de la cuenta Instagram Historia.del.arte.con.kenza, para descubrir las obras del podcast y muchas más. Producido por @RojoVenado

This one is all about the Greeks who were Buddhists. Basically Buddhism was taking rounds in Afghanistan and Pakistan around 90 BCE. And the new age Buddha sculptures were a hit all over. Listen for more.

How long can one hide their need to seek revenge? Can a girl really love and respect the man responsible for the destruction of her whole family? कब तक, आख़िर कितने सालों तक, बदले की ज्वाला सीने में धधक सकती है? कैसे एक लड़की अपने घरवालों के हत्यारे की अपनी बन कर रह सकती है? What drove Shakuni to drive a wedge between Kauravas and Pandavas, and…How does mythology connect with folklore? कहाँ जाकर mythology और folklore जुड़ जाते हैं, और हमें जवाब मिलता है इस question का, कि क्यों शकुनि ने कौरवों और पांडवों के बीच खाई खोदी? With #Afghanistan once again in #news, our age-old connection with Gandhara from #mahabharat is once again in the limelight. आइए ढूंढें answers कुछ mysterious से questions के। Click/Tap here to say something, ask a question, or record your viewpoint, and send it in as a message. Elsewhere on the web: http://tabseabtak.com http://instagram.com/tabseabtak About the Tab Se Ab Tak Podcast: This show tells stories from the World Mythology (mostly Hindu, Greek, Egyptian, Sumerian, and far-eastern mythologies,) and World History (mostly Indian, European, American,) and shares the folklore from around the world. This podcast, which is hosted by writer, speaker, and story-teller Shafali Anand, is mostly in Hindi with a sprinkling of English, (but the "Little Nothings" episodes are in Hinglish,) and it deals with several dimensions of motivation, inspiration, and also touches upon spirituality. It covers topics such as life and death, love and heartbreaks, personal relationships, pursuit of happiness, success and failure etc. If you want to lose yourself into a world of mythological, historical, and sometimes fictional stories, interpreted to answer the questions you find yourself wrestling with...and you know Hindi, put your headphones on, and step in. Show Host: Shafali Anand (Artist, Writer, Speaker, Storyteller) Become Part of the Tab Se Ab Tak Show - आपका message, आपकी आवाज़! Click/Tap here to record your message and send it to The Tab Se Ab Tak Show --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/tabseabtak/message

Queste riflessioni sono relative a come sviluppare il bodhicitta, la mente e il cuore dell'illuminazione, l'apertura che porta al risveglio, all'empatia alla compassione verso tutti gli esseri. Sebbene sia un termine principalmente usato nel buddhismo Mahāyāna, è facile vedere i punti di contatto con i quattro stati incommensurabili dei Brahmavihāra, le Quattro Dimore Divine di gentilezza amorevole (mettā), compassione (karuṇā), gioia compartecipe (muditā) ed equanimità (upekkhā). Le riflessioni sullo sviluppo della mente dell'illuminazione Seguono la Meditazione Satipatthana sulla mente. Durante le riflessioni si fa riferimento a un articolo di Richard Salomon relativo a dei ritrovamenti di testi buddhisti avvenuto nella zona del Gandhāra, un antico regno in quella che è oggi la regione del Pakistan settentrionale e dell'Afghanistan orientale. Tra i testi ritrovati, del primo secolo a.C., molti dei quali equivalenti a quelli del Canone Pāli, sono stati trovati anche dieci testi Mahāyāna, tra cui il Sutra della Perfezione della Saggezza. Salomon ne trae la conclusione che la differenza tra le due grandi tradizioni, quella Theravāda e quella Mahāyāna non sia sempre stata così forte: Si rimane con l'impressione che il buddhismo Mahayana nei primi secoli dell'era comune non era istituzionalmente, e forse neppure dottrinalmente, distinto da quello che successivamente si è denominato "Hinayana" o "Piccolo Veicolo". Tutte le indicazioni sembrano andare nella direzione che le pratiche più tradizionali o conservatrici coesistevano con le idee mahayana, anche all'interno delle stesse comunità monastiche.How the Gandharan Manuscripts Change Buddhist History, Richard SalomonI Questo è di grande beneficio, per trovare e rimarcare una volta di più che praticare il bodhicitta o praticare le Quattro Dimore Divine non sia null'altro che praticare quelli che sono gli insegnamenti fondamentali del Buddha, di avere una buona condotta morale e purificare il cuore e la mente! Referenze L'immagine del Buddha seduto è del primo secolo nella zona del Gandhāra e proviene dagli archivi del Metropolitan Museum of Art . Questo piccolo Buddha di bronzo è probabilmente una delle prime rappresentazioni iconiche di Shakyamuni di Gandhara. Si siede in una postura yogica tenendo la mano destra in Abhaya Mudra (un gesto di accessibilità); il suo alone insolito ha dentellature che indicano luce irradiante. La sua acconciatura, la forma delle sue vesti e il trattamento della figura riflettono i contatti stilistici con le tradizioni classiche dell'Occidente. Questo Buddha mostra affinità più strette con la scultura romana di qualsiasi altro bronzo gandharano sopravvissuto. Immagine di copertina di Photo by Jeff Ackley Riflessioni sullo sviluppo della mente dell'illuminazione registrate nel gruppo di meditazione di Terrapura il 30 luglio 2021.

Il primo insegnamento del Buddha, il primo sutta, è quello in cui il Beato illustra le Quattro Nobili Verità e il Nobile Ottuplice Sentiero, che sono la base del suo insegnamento. Parte del Samyutta Nikāya, 56.11, è quindi uno degli insegnamenti più importanti in quanto stabilisce il cuore della pratica. "La messa in modo della ruota del Dharma" vuol dire che fu rivelato per la prima volta il Dharma, l'insegnamento del Buddha. L'insegnamento venne dato ai cinque asceti mendicanti, i bhikkhu, con cui Siddharta Gautama aveva praticato negli anni di pratiche più estreme. Era stato da loro abbandonato nel momento in cui aveva scelto di uscire dall'estremo delle pratiche di mortificazione, scegliendo la via di mezzo ma quando li incontrò dopo aver raggiunto l'illuminazione parve loro così pacificato, così radioso, da convincerli ad ascoltare un suo discorso. Vi è anche un momento davvero emozionante in cui, durante l'insegnamento, il monaco Kondañña raggiunge il primo livello di illuminazione. Questo monaco aveva assistito alla nascita del futuro Buddha e aveva vaticinato che sarebbe stato un grande illuminato: quel giorno poté toccare direttamente quanto fosse vera la sua previsione! Riportiamo qui l'inizio del sutta: Così ho udito. Un tempo il Beato soggiornava a Isipatana, presso Baranasi, nel Parco delle gazzelle. Ui il Beato si rivolse al gruppo dei cinque asceti mendicanti: «O monaci, coloro che hanno abbandonato la vita mondana non devono indulgere ai due estremi. Quali sono questi due estremi? Un estremo è il dedicarsi al godimento dei piaceri sensuali: questo comportamento è infimo, volgare, ignobile e vano. L'altro estremo è il dedicarsi alla mortificazione di sé stessi: questo comportamento è infimo, volgare, ignobile e vano. Evitando questi due estremi, o monaci, il Tathāgata ha realizzato il "sentiero di mezzo" che produce la visione e la conoscenza e che guida alla calma, alla perfetta conoscenza, al perfetto risveglio, al nibbanā. E cos'è mai, o monaci, questo "sentiero di mezzo" realizzato dal Tathāgata che produce la visione e la gnosi e che guida alla calma, alla perfetta conoscenza, al perfetto risveglio, al nibbanā? Esso è il Nobile ottuplice sentiero, ovvero la retta visione, la retta intenzione, la retta parola, la retta azione, il retto modo di vivere, retto sforzo, la retta presenza mentale e la retta concentrazione. Questo, o monaci, è il "sentiero di mezzo" realizzato dal Tathāgata che produce la visione e la gnosi (conoscenza), e che guida alla calma, alla perfetta conoscenza, al perfetto risveglio, al nibbanā. Questa, o monaci, è la nobile verità del dolore: la nascita è dolore, la vecchiezza è dolore, la malattia è dolore, la separazione da ciò che è caro è dolore, il non ottenere ciò che si desidera è dolore. In breve, i cinque aggregati che rappresentano la base dell'attaccamento all'esistenza, sono dolore. Questa, o monaci, è la nobile verità dell'origine del dolore: l'origine del dolore s'identifica con la brama, la quale conduce a nuove esistenze, è congiunta col diletto e con la concupiscenza, e trova appagamento ora qua ora là. Esiste la brama per il godimento degli oggetti dei sensi, la brama per l'esistenza e la brama per la non-esistenza. Questa, o monaci, è la nobile verità della cessazione del dolore: la cessazione del dolore è l'estinzione, il completo svanimento, l'abbandono, il rifiuto di questa brama, la liberazione e il distacco da essa. Questa, o monaci, è la Nobile verità del sentiero che conduce alla cessazione del dolore: esso è il Nobile ottuplice sentiero, ovvero retta visione, retta intenzione, retta parola, retta azione, retto modo di vivere, retto sforzo, retta presenza mentale e retta concentrazione. Brano del "Dhammacakkappavattana Sutta (Il discorso della messsa in moto della ruota del Dharma)" Trad. dal Pali a cura di Claudio Cicuzza, in Il Buddhismo. Testi antichi dal Canone pali, a cura di Raniero Gnoli, Mondadori, Milano 2001 Foto dal The Metropolitan Museum of Art, "Vajrapani assiste al primo sermone del Buddha". Vajrapani si trova alla destra del Buddha, tenendo in mano un Vajra (fulmine) a forma di barra. In questo primo periodo, gli artisti ritrassero Vajrapani come un eroe muscoloso, attingendo alle immagini di Ercole (Eracle) che giunsero a Gandhara attraverso il commercio. Significativamente, Vajrapani non appare nella narrativa scritta che descrive il primo sermone; invece, è stata aggiunta la figura del portatore del fulmine (vajra) per proteggere il Buddha e portare buon auspicio nella scena narrativa. Il Buddha mette in moto la ruota della legge (Dharma), rivelando gli insegnamenti ai cinque monaci circostanti, che a loro volta diffondono questa dottrina e stabiliscono l'ordine monastico. Per ascoltare meditazioni, riflessioni di Dharma e commenti agli insegnamenti del Buddha, puoi partecipare al  gruppo di meditazione di Terrapura.

While excellent newsletters on specific themes within public policy already exist, this thought letter is about frameworks, mental models, and key ideas that will hopefully help you think about any public policy problem in imaginative ways.Audio narration by Ad-Auris.  India Policy Watch #1: Jabki Dimaag Khaali Hai (While The Mind Is Empty) Insights on burning policy issues in India- RSJThe sound and the fury surrounding all that’s happening in India now is quite maddening. Any kind of meaningful analysis risks drowning in it. In any case, there’s no analysis possible any more in India. There are only positions. We have fallen in love with the culture of intellectual nihilism. All arguments start with a bad faith assumption. And before you end it, you are tagged with toxic monikers and a litany of half-truths in the garb of whatboutery. And they bookend any discussion between two ‘argumentative’ Indians these days. We cannot say we didn’t see it coming. It is easy to cast democracy into a vessel that channels the passions of the majority. You can ride those passions to the levers of power. But it is another thing to govern and meet the aspirations of the demos. The easy way then to cover for failures is to continue fighting some mythical ancient regime or entrenched enemies who are undermining your efforts. This is imagined victimhood. When this becomes a political, social and cultural defence to any challenge, intellectual nihilism follows. Facts don’t matter then. Only faith does.We are in a tight spot today. To come out of it requires leadership, farsighted policymaking capabilities and a consensus on the path to nation building almost at par with the task we had on hands right after independence. This isn’t easy even with the best of intentions and capabilities at your disposal. Instead, I fear we have real constraints in thinking our way clearly through this. Acknowledging The ProblemThe economy wasn’t in a great shape going into the pandemic in April 2020. The twin balance sheet problem and the shock of demonetisation meant a modest 4-5 percent growth was beginning to look the best we could do. The national lockdown and the impact of the first wave has meant we will end up with about an eight percent decline in GDP in FY20-21. The general consensus within the government early this year was India had seen off the pandemic and a V-shaped recovery is well on its way. This second wave has set us back again. So, where does that leave us on the economy? There are a few factors to consider here:Unlike wave 1, this time the impact has been felt more directly by the consuming class. This is evident from conversations with friends and colleagues, social media posts and the case counts. People have been scarred and sentiments have taken a hit. More importantly, people will wait to get vaccinated before lowering their guards. The lessons of complacency seem to have been learnt. The talk of wave 3 and its likely impact on kids have only queered the pitch. Vaccination to about 50 percent of people looks unlikely before the end of 2021. This would mean when the wave 2 subsides, there won’t be a quick bounce back in terms of increased mobility and consumption spends. There will only be a gradual return to any kind of normalcy. Unlike last wave, this wave has impacted the hinterland. The extent of the impact is difficult to ascertain but the ground reporting from rural UP and Bihar has been heartbreaking. Rural supply chains have been disrupted and the expectation that rural economy will hold out like last year are misplaced.Much of the heavy lifting last year to support the economy was done by the RBI through monetary policy. There’s a limit to that and it seems we have reached the end of it. The fiscal room available to the government is quite limited. It is worse than last year. The fiscal deficit is the highest it has been in a long time. Yet, the government will have to come out with some kind of a stimulus soon. People are hurting. But where will the money for stimulus come from? Expect more headline management like the Rs. 20 lac crores Aatmanirbhar Bharat package announced last year.Exports could be a silver lining considering most of the developed world will be back on growth path by next quarter. The challenge is how well are our businesses (especially SMEs) positioned right now to take advantage of it. It is difficult to be an export powerhouse while simultaneously dealing with an unprecedented health crisis impacting the workforce. The consensus growth projections for FY21-22 have already been lowered from 11.5 percent to 9-9.5 percent. My fear is this will slide down to 7-7.5 percent range by the time we have seen through wave 2. Since this wave is unique to India in terms of spread and impact, our economic performance, deficit and the future prospects will be an outlier compared to most of the world in FY22. We will have to keep an eye on the sovereign rating given our circumstances. There’s a danger lurking there. Given these, it is evident we will need to bring together our best minds across government, administration and industry to navigate these waters. But that will require to acknowledge we got things wrong to reach here. This isn’t likely going by precedence. It will also be interesting to see how Indian industry and capital responds to this. Of course, the public stance, like always, will be cheerleading the dispensation. But it is no secret that private capital investment has been stagnant for most of last decade. Indian capital doesn’t put its money where its mouth is. It is far too clever for that. As 4-6 percent growth (if that) becomes the accepted norm for this decade, it is likely that Indian industry and the wealthy will try and conserve what they have instead of taking risks. There are other second order social implications that might arise out of another ‘lost decade’ of tepid growth that Indian capital will be worried about. They might continue to prefer a ‘strong leader’ given these concerns. It is also clear now that any recovery will be K-shaped to begin with. The formal, organised and larger players will consolidate their gains and grow at the expense of the informal and smaller players. This trend has been seen over the past 12 months. The stock market, divorced from the real economy, already knows it and it is reflected in the performance of the benchmark indices that represent 30-50 top companies. This structural shift to an oligopoly in most sectors is evident. This will allow the state to control capital more easily as markets turn less free. In any case, the benefits of aligning to the political dispensation are already evident in the list of richest Asians. So, the industry will be more than willing to be subservient. These aren’t the best of conditions for releasing the animal spirits of enterprise. The Absent Media And OppositionIt isn’t difficult to foresee the challenges outlined here and to set up a policy framework to address it. There are two problems here. First, the centralised nature of governance in the current establishment precludes any acknowledgement of missteps or an honest assessment of the problems on hand. Second, the conventional outlets of holding the government to account, the opposition and the media, are mostly absent. Large sections of mainstream media are owned directly by the industry who would rather cheerlead than ask tough questions. Many in the industry and the media may even be ideologically aligned to the establishment. The opposition is fragmented with regional leaders often holding their own in the assembly elections. But any kind of national mobilisation to politically counter the party in power is not in sight. The PM continues to be popular despite the wave 2 failings. The political genius of the PM has been to dissolve the natural fragments of region, caste, or even, language, that precluded over-centralisation of power in the past. The Lok Sabha elections will continue to be presidential in nature for the foreseeable future. So, any real political opposition will need to contend with this. The other source of opposition, class, has disappeared from Indian politics for long. Students’ unions are politicised along party lines and have no independent line of thinking, trade unions have no teeth and farmers movement is splintered despite the protests we see against farm laws. The near absence of media and opposition has meant policy debates and discussions have suffered. There’s complacency and lack of rigour in policy making as has been evident in the past many years. There is no price to be paid for policy failure. And any failure is quickly papered over with some kind of narrative.The Surrender Of ElitesLastly, let’s turn to the elites. The section that often tends to have a disproportionate share of voice in the polity. The institutional elite have either been co-opted or they have thrown in the towel in the face of an overwhelmingly popular establishment. Universities, courts, bureaucracy, police and what’s referred to as civil society can no longer be counted on to be independent voices that will uphold the tradition of the institutions they serve. This isn’t a first in our history. But, remember, the last time it happened the consequences were terrible. That should, therefore, give us no solace. The other set of elites are those who have provided intellectual scaffolding to this dispensation over the years. Loosely put, this group would identify themselves ideologically as either conservatives or belonging to the right. I have articulated their grouses in earlier editions. It runs the spectrum - the resentment with a liberal constitution that was not rooted in our civilisational values, the anger at the radical act of forgetting our history that the Nehruvian elites thrust upon us in their wisdom, the overbearing state and the failures of leftist economic policies during the 60s-80s that held us back and the deracinated deep state (“Lutyens Delhi”) that apparently controlled the levers of power regardless of who was in power. In the past seven years it should have been clear to them these grouses aren’t easy to set right nor will their elimination lead to any kind of great reawakening in the masses. The intellectual articulation of a political philosophy that’s suited to the modern world while addressing these grouses isn’t clear yet. Instead, what we have on our hands are thuggish attempts at settling imaginary scores and continuing degradation of scientific temper in the hope it will usher in a modern version of our glorious past. If these intellectuals want the supposed UP model of today to be what India of tomorrow should look like, good luck with that ending well. I have been reading the great Hindi essayist, historian and scholar, Hazari Prasad Dwivedi over the past few months. Dwivedi was an intellectual powerhouse who was deeply rooted in the Indic tradition and philosophy. A great Sanskrit linguist who spent a lifetime studying the Sastras and writing beautiful expositions on them, Dwivedi should be more widely read today. His essays, their themes and his arguments, betray no trace of western enlightenment influence. He had a clear-eyed view of the richness of our heritage and its relevance in the modern age. In his anthology, Vichar Aur Vitark (Thoughts And Debates), there’s an essay titled ‘Jabki Dimaag Khaali Hai’ (“While The Mind Is Empty”) published by Sachitra Bharti in 1939, which is often quoted by Pratap Bhanu Mehta to make a specific point about our current obsession with our glorious past and the identity crisis among Hindus. As Mehta writes:This identity is constituted by a paradoxical mixture of sentiments: a sense of lack, Hinduism is not sure what makes it the identity that it is; a sense of injury, the idea that Hindus have been victims of history; a sense of superiority, Hinduism as the highest achievement of spirituality and uniquely tolerant; a sense of weakness, Hindus are unable to respond to those who attack them; a sense of uncertainty, how will this tradition make its transition to modernity without denigrating its own past; and finally, a yearning for belonging, a quest for a community that can do justice to them as Hindus. This psychic baggage can express itself in many ways, sometimes benign and creative, sometimes, malign and close minded. But these burdens cast their unmistakable shadow upon modern Hindu self-reflection, often leading to a discourse on identity that Dwivedi memorably described as one, where the ‘‘heart is full and the mind empty (dil bhara hai aur dimag khali hai).’’ The passions that have been fanned to animate the majority cannot lead to nation building in the absence of intellectual rigour and clear reasoning. The problem is once that genie of passions is out, it is impossible to put it back in the bottle. Its demand will never be sated.I will leave you with an extract from Dwivedi’s essay (my mediocre English translation follows):My translation:But when the mind is empty while the heart is brimming over, there cannot be any possibility of an engaging exposition of the Sastras. Otherwise, there isn't any reason to be anxious about a race whose writ once ran from the shores of River Vaksh in Central Asia to the end of South Asia, the imprint of whose culture transcended the Himalayas and the great oceans and whose mighty fleet once controlled the waters of the eastern seas. It is true that this mighty race is a pale shadow of itself today. The sons of Panini (the great Sanskrit grammarian from Gandhara) sell dry fruits and heeng on streets today while the descendants of Kumarjiva are involved in the basest of trades. Yet, there's a hope that there must be a semblance of that glory still running in the veins of this race. And it will show its true colour some day. But then I wonder. After all, a tree is known by the fruits it bears. The state of disrepair that the Hindu society is in today must trace its cause to that once glorious civilisation of the past. How can that tree be so glorious when its fruits we see all around today are so terrible?There was indeed an age of prosperity for this race. That is true. Those verdant streets of Ujjain, the gurgling sounds of river Shipra and the celestial music of the kinnaras still echo in the Himalayan valleys - these memories remain fresh in our minds. And amidst these riches, our eyes can clearly see the attack of the Huns and the defiant stand of the Aryans, the numerous rise and fall of empires, the thunderous roar of Vikramaditya. The glories of Magadh and Avanti were unparalleled. Its elite could wield the sword and the brush with equal felicity. They could fight fire with fire and let their hair down when they wanted. But things changed. The elite suppressed the masses; they paralysed the polity. The chasm within the society began to open up. The elites immersed themselves in the pleasures of the material world while the masses were tied down to scriptures and their orthodoxy. One took refuge in merriment while the other was often lampooned for their outdated beliefs. And the fissure in the Hindu society widened further. Over the centuries every invader used this to their advantage - Huns, Sakas, Tartars, Muslims and the British. They divided us further and they ruled. Today that Pathan dry fruit seller asked me if that beautiful house belonged to a Muslim or a Christian and could scarcely believe it could be that of a Hindu. And I wondered if the chasm continues widening everyday. But then the Sastras don't bother about such identity issues of the Hindus and I lack the courage to intellectually confront this issue any further. When the mind is empty and the heart full of passion, isn't it enough to have even mentally contended with the existential conundrum of our race.            Matsyanyaaya: A Cautionary Tale on the ‘Israel Model’Big fish eating small fish = Foreign Policy in action— Pranay KotasthaneFull diplomatic ties between India and Israel were established quite late in 1992. Even so, this bilateral relationship has quickly grown into a robust and multi-dimensional partnership over the last three decades. This is a welcome development. Israel’s technological prowess finds many admirers in India. In casual conversations, this admiration often escalates into a desire for emulation — "see how they tackled terrorism, we should learn from it", or "we should also have mandatory military service, like Israel does", or "why can't India kill terrorists in Pakistan the way Israel assassinates Iranian nuclear scientists?" The latest round of Israel-Palestine conflict should, however, force uncritical admirers of the Israel model to update their Bayesian priors. A side note before I begin: what model Israel adopts is its own problem and I have neither the competence nor the inclination to challenge its approach. Every conflict today has its own set of initial conditions and a long and bloody path-dependent history. I am only interested cautioning people who seek to transpose Israel’s strategy to an Indian context. Here are my four strategic insights from the Indian perspective for those in awe of the 'Israel Model'.#1 Force alone cannot end insurgenciesEven an overwhelming superiority in force structure is insufficient for ending insurgencies. The US experience in Afghanistan and the ongoing Israel-Palestine conflict both demonstrate that insurgencies are not easy to dislodge. Neither the Iron Dome nor the ‘Mother of all Bombs’ can fully deter an insurgent force from retaliating in the future. Force can, at best, modulate terrorism but it can't end insurgencies. Ending insurgencies also requires co-opting rival elites and making compromises with insurgent factions. More the disproportional use of force, more elusive such dealmaking becomes. #2 Assassinating terrorists can be both ineffective and high-costFed on a diet of Hollywood movies, the assassination programmes of Mossad and Shin Bet are admired by many people in India. Every terrorist attack in India raises one question: if Israel can kill Iranian nuclear scientists, why can’t India kill the likes of Hafiz Saeed? This romanticisation of an extensive assassination programme misses the fact that such operations have often been strategically ineffective. Praveen Swami’s take in MoneyControl on Israel’s assassination programme highlights this point well:“From 1971, when a new Palestinian resistance emerged in the West Bank and Gaza, both targeted assassination and sometimes-indiscriminate civilian killing were deployed on a growing scale. Forty-man covert assassination squads, code-named Rimon, or Pomegranate received target lists from Israel’s internal intelligence service, Shin Bet for execution.The killings formed the backdrop to the rise of terrorism, culminating in the savage massacre of Israeli Olympic athletes in Munich in 1972. Mossad responded by unleashing Operation Wrath of God—arguably the best known of all its efforts—which, over the course of twenty years, used covert teams to target their alleged killers across Europe and the Middle-East.Leaving ethics aside, the gains from Israel’s tactics are controversial: Rimon’s killings didn’t deter the outbreak of the First Intifada in 1987; indeed, it could be argued to have radicalised an entire generation. Even leadership-decapitation operations, like the 1988 assassination of Palestine Liberation Organisation second-in-command Khalil al-Wazir, did little to change the course of history. Arguably, Israel’s anti-PLO operations only served to open the way for more dangerous Islamist groups.”Another unintended and yet anticipated consequence of such an approach is the potential of domestic spillover. If a State repeatedly uses assassination against State enemies, how long before it becomes an acceptable method against domestic anti-national ‘enemies’ ?A key cognitive dissonance is at the centre of democratic statecraft — in the amoral world of international relations, the grammar of power applies while in a liberal domestic realm, rule of law explicitly restrains the primacy of power. This delicate balance is tougher to achieve in a State with an extensive assassination programme. A secondary consequence is that conflicting parties become incapable of compromise and dialogue and resort to acts that further aggravate the situation.#3 People matter more than territoryThe Israel-Palestine conflict is a visceral conflict over a piece of land. Such is its history and deep-seated animosity that today, even localised fights over pieces of neighbourhood land have the potential to trigger a full-scale arms exchange. The lesson for India is that the desire for territorial integrity should not override the primary goal of peace and prosperity for all Indians. Take the instance of India’s land border with Bangladesh. In the 2015 Land Boundary Agreement, India gave away more land than it got back from Bangladesh. In a strict sense, India’s territorial integrity was violated. And yet, it was a prudent decision because, among other things, it put an end to the abomination called a third-order enclave — a piece of India within a piece of Bangladesh within a piece of India within Bangladesh. The hitherto uncertainty over the border had led to a denial of basic services to Indians in such enclaves.#4 Excessive use of force is counterproductive in the Information Age Despite its clout, the international narrative has gone against Israel over the past month. International coverage has portrayed Israel as the aggressor. The armed attacks by Israel were broadcasted widely and the bloodied faces of Palestinians led many countries to pressurise Israel for a ceasefire. The key lesson here for India is that information age conflicts will be global by default. In the Industrial Age, state suppression could be covered up; that’s no longer the case in radically networked communities. State use of force against non-combatants is almost certain to receive instant condemnation from other countries. This further calls for prudence in using force.In sum, there’s a lot to be gained for both sides from a stronger India-Israel partnership. But a blindfolded emulation of the Israel Model will do far more harm than good.India Policy Watch #2: Vaccine Inequity Insights on burning policy issues in India- Pranay KotasthaneVaccine inequity — you are going to be hearing a lot of over the next few months. It is a hydra-headed term being used in a variety of contexts — some make sense and others don’t. Let’s explore all its facets.#1 Vaccine inequity in the international relations contextCanada, UK, EU and other rich countries are hoarding vaccines for its citizens. Citing inequity, repeated calls have been made by concerned citizens, groups, and WHO for releasing these hoarded doses.However, equity is orthogonal to the amoral world of international relations. Equity presupposes morality but when the international relations operates on the principle of matsysnaaya, every country is on its own. Calls for vaccine equity then may well make some countries donate a few token doses from their hoarded stock to ward off future criticism but it is unlikely to cause a significant shift in national stances. Instead of asking for vaccine equity, appealing to national interest will work better. At present, India is perhaps not in a position to cause pain to a state that doesn’t offload its excess supply. But it can definitely promise to deliver benefits to countries that do. A lowering of tariffs on some goods or conceding on a less-important point in a trade negotiation in exchange of vaccine donations, has higher chances of securing vaccines from abroad.#2 Inter-state vaccine inequityState-wise allocations have also come under fire on the grounds of vaccine inequity. This is not surprising. Neither is it solvable to everyone’s satisfaction. The paradox of distribution, in Deborah Stone’s words, is that “equality often means inequality, and equal treatment often means unequal treatment. The same distribution may look equal or unequal, depending on where you focus.” Till there’s supply scarcity, equalising distribution across states is impossible. Regardless of the formula used, it will be contested on the ground of being unequal by states that don’t fare well on a particular formula. In such a case, the goal should be distribute fairly and not equally. In the current circumstances, the fairest way out is to transparently declare a formula for distribution of vaccines from the union government quota and simultaneously allow states to procure additional doses on their own. #3 Digitally inflicted vaccine inequityGetting a vaccine appointment requires you to have a phone, an internet connection, and the ability to read English, and that this is unfair to people who have access to none of them. This is the vaccine equity dimension I sympathise with most. The CEO of the National Health Authority dismissed these concerns in an Indian Express article thus:“Imagine the chaos if online appointments had not been compulsory. Vaccination centres would have been swamped by people, creating not only law-and-order issues but also risk of infections. Invoking the digital divide, as the authors do, is premature and misplaced, for the vaccination drive is evolving as it unfolds, and data is the torchlight for correcting the anomalies.”“CoWin provides for on-site registration of people without access to the internet, smartphones or even a feature phone. Out of the 18.22 crore doses administered as on May 16, only 43 per cent have been administered through online appointments, the rest availed of on-site registration. Self-registration is just one component of CoWin. On-the-spot registration, walk-ins, registration of four citizens on one mobile number and use of common service centres for assisted registration underline the inclusive nature of CoWin.”Of course, what he hasn’t mentioned is that walk-in registration and appointment is not available for 18-44 age group. It would be fair if a predetermined percentage of vaccine slots are opened up for walk-in registrations. Even cinema halls allows on-spot movie ticket bookings in addition to the online-booked ones; surely our COVID-19 vaccination drive can accommodate for this requirement. Further, some centres can be dedicated for walk-in registrations. As the supply constraint eases, this problem should become less serious.#4 Income inflicted vaccine inequityThe argument here is that since the rich, formally employed citizens can get themselves vaccinated through their employers, the employers must in turn vaccinate low-income earners for equity reasons. This is a flawed argument. A government-run channel providing free vaccines is a better alternative. Mandating the private sector to cover up whenever the government fails is morally repugnant. It is precisely the kind of thinking that has allowed us to give our omni-absent state a free pass.A reminder to end this section. Given that vaccines have positive externalities, the primary goal of the vaccination drive should be to give jabs to as many people as soon as possible. Doing so in a fair and transparent way is the best that can be done for equity. To prioritise equity over speed would be counterproductive. The option is to choose between two suboptimal outcomes. After all, confronting trade-offs is the what separates better policymaking from the worse one.HomeWorkReading and listening recommendations on public policy matters[Audio] Dr. Rajendra Prasad Memorial Lectures series, 1969: Acharya Hazari Prasad Dwivedi on Guru Nanak: Personality, Concerns and Objective. Wonderful speech combining history and philosophy. [Article] An excerpt from a promising new book on ending counterinsurgencies. Get on the email list at publicpolicy.substack.com

Autor: Klein, Mechthild Sendung: Religionen Hören bis: 19.01.2038 04:14

Il y a 20 ans en Afghanistan, six mois avant l'attentat contre le World Trade Center, les talibans dynamitaient et filmaient l'effondrement de deux géants de pierre. Les Bouddhas monumentaux taillés dans la falaise de Bamiyan et vieux de plus de 15 siècles disparaissaient au motif que toute représentation humaine est interdite par la doctrine islamique. À 2 500 m d’altitude, en Afghanistan, la falaise de Bamiyan s’inscrit dans un paysage grandiose à la croisée des mondes entre l’Inde, l’Iran, l’Asie centrale. Bamiyan est la capitale du pays des Hazaras, une communauté chiite, implantée sur un site monastique bouddhiste unique au monde où se dressaient jusqu’en mars 2001 deux Bouddhas géants de 38 et 55 m de haut dynamités par les talibans. « Il faut imaginer cette très longue falaise de Bamiyan, dans laquelle sont creusées 700 grottes qui sont des ermitages. C’était un lieu de retraite pour les moines, pour des fidèles. On y a construit au VIe et au VIIe siècle ces deux effigies monumentales modelées directement dans le lœss, un sédiment », raconte Sophie Makariou, la présidente du Musée national des arts asiatiques à Paris. Puis d'ajouter : « Ils étaient dorés à la feuille, ils étaient en fait drapés dans une sorte de toge ; un drapé à l’antique puisque cet art de cette région de l’Afghanistan, cette zone du Gandhara, c’est un art dit “gréco-bouddhique”. C’est aussi très bouleversant, car à Bamiyan se joue quelque chose qui est la rencontre des civilisations », dit-elle.  ► À écouter aussi : La deuxième vie des monuments : les Bouddhas d'Afghanistan « Il n'y a rien de plus présent que le vide » La destruction des Bouddhas de Bamiyan a permis de faire reconnaître l’atteinte au patrimoine et à la mémoire des hommes comme un crime contre l’humanité. L’artiste Pascal Convert s’est rendu sur place en 2016 et a réalisé des captations de la falaise défigurée. Des milliers de relevés photographiques et de scans 3D, forment une œuvre photographique monumentale et panoramique de la falaise.  « Malgré l’absence des Bouddhas, ils sont présents. Ce ne sont pas du tout des spectres ou des fantômes, ils sont présents. Leur hauteur, leur emplacement, cette espèce d’étrangeté justement de ces deux monuments vides… », soutient Pascal Convert. Puis d'ajouter : « Il y a un rapprochement évident entre les deux Bouddhas de Bamiyan et les Twin Towers à New York, les deux géants de deux continents opposés. Quand vous voyez le monument du 11-Septembre qui est en fait le volume inverse des tours qui forment un puits infini dans lequel coule de l’eau comme des larmes, là-bas c’est la même chose, on a une très grande présence. Il n’y a rien de plus présent que le vide. » Les Bouddhas de Bamiyan, pulvérisés, ne seront probablement jamais reconstruits. Les efforts se portent aujourd’hui sur la consolidation de la falaise et plus particulièrement des niches qui ont beaucoup souffert des bombardements talibans, et sur un espoir la recherche d’un troisième bouddha, un Bouddha couché qui se trouverait dans la vallée, peut-être enseveli.

“Des images et des hommes” Bamiyan 20 ans aprèsau Musée Guimet, Parisdu 24 février au 21 juin 2021extrait du communiqué de presse :Commissaires :Sophie Makariou, présidente du MNAAG, commissaire généralePierre Cambon, conservateur en chef des collections Corée, Pakistan et Afghanistan du MNAAGLe 11 mars 2001, les Talibans qui avaient pris le pouvoir en Afghanistan, organisaient la destruction de deux bouddhas monumentaux de 38 et 55 m de haut, sculptés dans les roches des hautes falaises de Bamiyan. Des oeuvres d'une valeur universelle, témoins de l'extraordinaire vitalité de l'art boudhique de cette vallée, située sur la route de la soie et ouverte à toutes les influences, indienne, grecque, romaine… Diffusées par les Talibans, les images de la destruction firent le tour du monde, six mois avant celles des tours jumelles du World Trade Center à New York.Ces deux événements ont marqué notre entrée dans le 21ème siècle. L'atteinte à la mémoire des hommes, à leur patrimoine et la mémoire où ils s'enracinent, est reconnue depuis comme un crime contre l'humanité.20 ans plus tard, le Musée national des arts asiatiques – Guimet a choisi de commémorer la destruction du site de Bamiyan à travers une exposition présentant des oeuvres archéologiques majeures retrouvées sur cette falaise afghane. Des photographies du plasticien Pascal Convert éclairent la richesse de ce patrimoine de façon contemporaine.L'exposition rend hommage à Joseph et Ria Hackin, archéologues de Bamiyan et conservateurs du musée, disparus il y a 80 ans.Des oeuvres archéologiques exceptionnelles, en miroir de photographies contemporaines.Le MNAGG présentera une série d'oeuvres archéologiques uniques retrouvées dans cette falaise afghane, du Gandhara à la période islamique. On y découvrira notamment deux mains de bouddhas monumentaux ayant conservé des restes de feuilles d'or.Accompagnant ces oeuvres, les photographies de Pascal Convert, dont le Panoramique de la falaise de Bâmiyan et la Grotte sanctuaire de Bâmiyan détruite par les Talibans, offriront un regard plus contemporain. À travers les vestiges archéologiques, les relevés de peintures et vestiges de peintures originales, les créations contemporaines de Pascal Convert, les films et les documents d'archives (documents de fouilles, lettre de ralliement des Hackin au Général de Gaulle) présentés, l'exposition raconte l'histoire du site de Bamiyan et sa vitalité culturelle du VIème au XIIIème siècle, la base doctrinale qui a conduit à la destruction du site en 2001 mais aussi la terrible actualité des faits avec les destructions d'autres sites inscrits au patrimoine de l'humanité.L'ensemble des oeuvres sera installée au premier étage du musée, dans la salle sino-tibétaine aménagée pour l'occasion.Le rôle majeur de l'école archéologique française.La France est particulièrement liée à la préservation de l'archéologie et de la mémoire de l'Afghanistan, pays où elle a créé en 1922 la délégation archéologique – devenue Direction Archéologique de l'Afghanistan, et aujourd'hui encore seul institut archéologique étranger implanté de façon permanente en Afghanistan.Dominant la vallée, les falaises de Bamiyan sont situées sur l'une des plus importantes routes de commerce reliant l'Asie centrale au sous-continent indien. Comme celles de Dunhuang en Chine, elles sont constituées de loess, matériau qui se prête à la sculpture – ou plus exactement au modelage sur une armature – d'effigies monumentales dont la surface était, à l'origine, dorée.Dans ce lieu d'art et de culture exceptionnel, les premières fouilles ont été françaises. Alfred Foucher, historien de l'art et spécialiste du monde bouddhiste, étudia le site dès 1922. André Godard, architecte, archéologue et historien de l'art français, et son épouse Edda s'attèlent ensuite aux premiers relevés des peintures au cours de l'hiver 1923, en dépit du froid atroce qui sévissait dans la vallée. L'exposition déploie un certain nombre de leurs relevés.Conservés au MNAAG et jamais montrés, ils révèlent la vivacité de couleurs et l'accomplissement esthétique de la peinture bouddhique à Bamiyan. Les Godard poursuivront leurs travaux en 1924 avec Joseph Hackin* alors conservateur au musée Guimet et publieront la première étude sur l'art bouddhique de Bamiyan, éditée en 1928.De nouvelles fouilles auront lieu en 1930 sous la conduite de Joseph Hackin, désormais directeur du musée Guimet, et accompagné de son inséparable ami l'architecte Jean Carl. De retour à Paris, Hackin travaillera à une nouvelle publication sur Bamiyan en 1933.Revenu en Afghanistan en 1934, il s'établit à Kaboul avec son épouse Ria, également archéologue, et rédige alors le premier guide de visite du site, désormais consacré comme un des hauts lieux de l'art bouddhique. Joseph et Ria Hackin**, unis à la ville et dans le travail, se rallient dès la première heure au général de Gaulle depuis l'Afghanistan. A Londres, Joseph et Ria sont investis d'importantes responsabilités. C'est lors d'une mission confiée par le Général que les Hackin trouvent une fin tragique dans le torpillage de leur bateau, le 24 février 1941.*Joseph Hackin (né en 1886 et mort le 24 février 1941, en mer lors du torpillage de son bateau près des îles Féroé) est un archéologue français d'origine luxembourgeoise, résistant, compagnon de la Libération. En 1907, il est secrétaire de l'industriel Émile Guimet. Il apprend le sanscrit et tibétain à l'École Pratique des Hautes Études dont il est diplômé. En 1912, il est nommé conservateur adjoint au Musée Guimet et en 1923, après avoir poursuivi ses travaux de recherche il en deviendra conservateur.**Ria Hackin (née en 1905 sous le nom de Marie Parmentier, morte le 24 février 1941) est une archéologue et résistante française de la Seconde Guerre mondiale. Officier des Forces Françaises libres, elle participe à l'organisation du Corps des Volontaires françaises au sein de la France libre. Disparue en mer avec son mari, à la suite d'un torpillage elle est faite compagnon de la Libération à titre posthume et reçoit la croix de guerre 1939-1945 avec palme. Voir Acast.com/privacy pour les informations sur la vie privée et l'opt-out.

Sunita Dwivedi, author of Buddha in Gandhara, travelled across Pakistan and Afghanistan to visit the numerous Buddhist sites there. In this episode of the Books & Authors podcast she talks about circumambulating a stupa in a burqa, staring in wonder at the architecture of the caves in Bamiyan, and of the great need to preserve Buddhist heritage sites across South Asia.

Sunita Dwivedi, author of Buddha in Gandhara, travelled across Pakistan and Afghanistan to visit the numerous Buddhist sites there. In this episode of the Books & Authors podcast she talks about circumambulating a stupa in a burqa, staring in wonder at the architecture of the caves in Bamiyan, and of the great need to preserve Buddhist heritage sites across South Asia.

In this special live episode of Bharatvaarta, we will be discussing the book "Unsung Valour: Forgotten Warriors Of Kurukshetra" with the authors Saiswaroopa Iyer ji, Shivakumar GV ji, and Ranjith Radhakrishnan ji. Did you know that a little-known Panchala prince, Yudhamanyu, single-handedly defeated the great Duryodhana? Or that Shakuni was a valiant warrior on the battlefield? How did Iravan, the son of Arjuna by Naga Princess Ulupi, rout the whole Gandhara armies all by himself? And how did the ageing king Bhagadatta, perched on his famed elephant Supratika, defeat a whole army of the Pandavas led by Bhima? The great war of Mahabharata which claimed the lives of 18 Akshauhinis (nearly 4 million warriors) was not just a carnage of that order but a battle that warrants a careful study from various angles to learn, unlearn and relearn the dynamic and elusive nature of Dharma. The authors' quantitative study showed that the 18 day war saw about 466 individual confrontations with the Pandava camp winning a lion's share of 216 and Kaurava warriors scoring over 90 victories. It is by delving into the perspectives of such warriors that we can get a close and yet distant version of the legendary feud that claimed so many lives. Indic Academy called in for short stories about these warriors and selected the best entries to publish the book as an anthology called "Unsung Valour". Tune in to the livestream Tuesday, 5th January, 7 PM onwards to be a part of this engaging discussion. We will also hold a Q&A section at the end to tackle viewer questions, so make sure to ask questions in the live chat!

In this special live episode of Bharatvaarta, we will be discussing the book "Unsung Valour: Forgotten Warriors Of Kurukshetra" with the authors Saiswaroopa Iyer ji, Shivakumar GV ji, and Ranjith Radhakrishnan ji. Did you know that a little-known Panchala prince, Yudhamanyu, single-handedly defeated the great Duryodhana? Or that Shakuni was a valiant warrior on the battlefield? How did Iravan, the son of Arjuna by Naga Princess Ulupi, rout the whole Gandhara armies all by himself? And how did the ageing king Bhagadatta, perched on his famed elephant Supratika, defeat a whole army of the Pandavas led by Bhima? The great war of Mahabharata which claimed the lives of 18 Akshauhinis (nearly 4 million warriors) was not just a carnage of that order but a battle that warrants a careful study from various angles to learn, unlearn and relearn the dynamic and elusive nature of Dharma. The authors' quantitative study showed that the 18 day war saw about 466 individual confrontations with the Pandava camp winning a lion's share of 216 and Kaurava warriors scoring over 90 victories. It is by delving into the perspectives of such warriors that we can get a close and yet distant version of the legendary feud that claimed so many lives. Indic Academy called in for short stories about these warriors and selected the best entries to publish the book as an anthology called "Unsung Valour". Tune in to the livestream Tuesday, 5th January, 7 PM onwards to be a part of this engaging discussion. We will also hold a Q&A section at the end to tackle viewer questions, so make sure to ask questions in the live chat!

The connection between the Greeks and Sanatana Dharma ,Hinduism goes back a long time. The Vedic Literature,Puranas, Tamil Sangam Literature and Tamil Epics speak of Greeks, their riches and their valor. It is also noted that the Greeks lived among the Vedic Hindus. The Greeks were known as Yonas and Yavanas. The Yavanas, Greeks  were a part of those people considered as Mielchas, meaning those who strayed from the Vedic Dharma. Thee were initially following the Sanatana Dharma. They had caste system along the lines of Hinduism. Many of them were considered to be Kshatriyas and Vaisyas. ‘ Yavanas were described to be beyond Gandhara. There was another country mentioned in the epic as Parama Yona, in the far west of Yavana. This could be the Ionia ofGreece, somehow related to Indian Ionians or Yavanas. The name Yavana could be the Sanskritized form of the name Ionia. Yavanas, Sakas, Pahlavas and Hunas were sometimes described as Mlechhas. Sometimes along with them, the Madras, Kambojas, Kekeyas, Sindhus and Gandharas were included. This name was used to indicate their cultural differences with the Vedic culture, prevailed in the Kuru-Panchala Kingdoms. “… in the ports of southern India, where the early Tamil poems of uncertain date speak of a settlement of the Yavanas.”(1) The same author (2) does not follow the assumption that Yavanas were Roman traders, although she points out that between the first-second cent BC up to and included the third-fourth cent AD, rightly or wrongly “the term yavana denoted an Ionian Greek”.(3) On pages 83–5 she makes mention of early Indian literature where foreigners were dubbed “yavana”, and points to an Asokan inscription where a border-people is given this appellation. In central and western India, she says, Yavana “figure prominently as donors to the Buddhist Sangha”.(4) (1) H.P.Ray, The Winds of Change, Delhi, 1994:49, 84; (2) ibid p. 52; (3) ibid p. 54; (4) ibid p. 84.. Thus the Vedic society acknowledged their extra ordinary skills, but kept them as outcasts. An account in the epic depicts Yavanas as the descendants of Turvasu, one of the cursed sons of king Yayati. Only the fifth son Puru's line was considered to be the successors of Yayati's throne, as he cursed the other four sons and denied them kingship. Pauravas inherited the Yayati's original empire and stayed in the Gangatic plain who later created the Kuru and Panchala Kingdoms. They were the followers of proper Vedic culture. Yavana was the name of one of the sons of Maharaja Yayati who was given the part of the world known as Turkey to rule. Therefore the Turks are Yavanas due to being descendants of Maharaja Yavana. The Yavanas were therefore kshatriyas, and later on, by giving up the brahminical culture, they became mleccha-yavanas. Descriptions of the Yavanas are in the Mahabharata (Adi-parva 85.34). Another prince called Turvasu was also known as Yavana, and his country was conquered by Sahadeva, one of thePandavas. The western Yavana joined with Duryodhana in the Battle of Kurukshetra under the pressure of Karna. It is also foretold that these Yavanas also would invadeIndia in the Kaliyuga . (Srimad Bhagavatam 2.4.18 [1])Examples of direct association of these with the Greeks include: The mention of the “Yona king Antiochus” in the Edicts of Ashoka (280 BCE) The mention of the “Yona king Antialcidas” in the Heliodorus pillar in Vidisha (110 BCE) King Menander and his bodyguard of “500 Yonas” in the Milinda Panha. The description of Greek astrology and Greek terminology in the Yavanajataka (“Sayings of the Yavanas”) (150 CE). The mention of “Alexandria, the city of the Yonas” in the Mahavamsa, Chapter 29 (4th century CE). https://ramanisblog.in/2015/04/16/greeks-yavanas-of-turvasu-yayatis-son-fought-mahabharata-war/ --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/ramanispodcast/message

Correspondent Wilma van der Maten maakte een portret van Mr Zahid Parvez Butt (1955), een van de grootste kunstverzamelaars zeker in Pakistan. Verspreid over bijna zeven voetbalvelden heeft hij een unieke verzameling boeddha beelden uit de Gandhara tijd (boeddhistisch koninkrijk dat ontstond in de 6de eeuw voor de geboorte van Christus tot de elfde eeuw na de geboorte van Christus). Hij heeft veel geschonken aan musea. De kunstverzamelaar houdt het meest van zijn collectie uit Kashmir. Zijn grootouders van beide kanten komen daar vandaan en trokken naar Pakistan tijdens de opdeling van de Britse kolonie. Als kind speelde hij al met de antieke voorwerpen die zijn opa en oma meenamen. Eenmaal kunstverzamelaar en op bezoek in het land van zijn grootouders schrok hij hoeveel kunst er uit het museum van Srinagar door de Britten was meegenomen. Zijn levenswerk was om alles weer terug te krijgen. Hij trok over de hele wereld, gaf kapitalen uit, ook bij Sotheby's in Londen. Zijn missie is bijna volbracht, In zijn testament staat dat na zijn dood de hele verzameling naar het museum van Kashmir gaat. Het liefst bracht hij het zelf met de olifanten en de kamelen. Dat kan niet door het huidige conflict tussen Pakistan en India. Lees ook het artikel: https://www.elsevierweekblad.nl/buitenland/achtergrond/2019/10/een-uit-de-hand-gelopen-passie-186457w/

Correspondent Wilma van der Maten maakte een portret van Mr Zahid Parvez Butt (1955), een van de grootste kunstverzamelaars zeker in Pakistan. Verspreid over bijna zeven voetbalvelden heeft hij een unieke verzameling boeddha beelden uit de Gandhara tijd (boeddhistisch koninkrijk dat ontstond in de 6de eeuw voor de geboorte van Christus tot de elfde eeuw na de geboorte van Christus). Hij heeft veel geschonken aan musea. De kunstverzamelaar houdt het meest van zijn collectie uit Kashmir. Zijn grootouders van beide kanten komen daar vandaan en trokken naar Pakistan tijdens de opdeling van de Britse kolonie. Als kind speelde hij al met de antieke voorwerpen die zijn opa en oma meenamen. Eenmaal kunstverzamelaar en op bezoek in het land van zijn grootouders schrok hij hoeveel kunst er uit het museum van Srinagar door de Britten was meegenomen. Zijn levenswerk was om alles weer terug te krijgen. Hij trok over de hele wereld, gaf kapitalen uit, ook bij Sotheby's in Londen. Zijn missie is bijna volbracht, In zijn testament staat dat na zijn dood de hele verzameling naar het museum van Kashmir gaat. Het liefst bracht hij het zelf met de olifanten en de kamelen. Dat kan niet door het huidige conflict tussen Pakistan en India. Lees ook het artikel: https://www.elsevierweekblad.nl/buitenland/achtergrond/2019/10/een-uit-de-hand-gelopen-passie-186457w/

Pastor and hymnwriter John Bell paints us a picture of Iona, one of the oldest Christian religious centres in Western Europe. And, historian Mark Allon reveals what the ancient Gandhari manuscripts tell us about early Buddhism.

Pastor and hymnwriter John Bell paints us a picture of Iona, one of the oldest Christian religious centres in Western Europe. And, historian Mark Allon reveals what the ancient Gandhari manuscripts tell us about early Buddhism.

Sometimes, the most beautiful art is paid for by the most brutal of conquerors. This is the story of how ancient India's most remarkably globalised art was born. In this episode, the tale of Gandhara continues to unfold as the Indo-Greeks are uprooted by Central Asian nomads fleeing from a terrible foe. But their art stays behind, and meets a mighty new force: Buddhism, rapidly entering its heyday in the North-West of India as the great economic webs of the Silk Roads are born. In the second episode of Echoes of India, host Anirudh Kanisetti continues the complex saga of ancient Indian history - hear the drums of weed-smoking conquerors, the boasts of multi-ethnic princes, and a Jain fable, as Buddhism spreads from India into Pakistan and Afghanistan. If you have questions for Anirudh, follow him on Twitter @AKanisetti or on Instagram @aniruddhadevaraya Notes, sources, credits and a transcript of the episode can be found at https://www.anirudhkanisetti.com/home/episode-2

Most histories of post-Vedic India start with Alexander the Great and then start with the story of North India under the Mauryas. But this story stays with Alexander's army. This episode explores the North-West of the Indian subcontinent, where South Asia meets Central Asia and West Asia - the region of Gandhara, the melting pot of the ancient world, where Indo-Greeks worshipped Greco-Indian gods. In the inaugural episode of Echoes of India, host Anirudh Kanisetti introduces us to Ancient India with a twist - hear the battles of Alexander, the debates of Buddhist monks, and a Sanskrit drama as we explore the genesis of Indian pluralism in the early centuries BCE. If you have questions for Anirudh, follow him on Twitter @AKanisetti or on Instagram @aniruddhadevaraya Notes, sources, credits and a transcript of the episode can be found at https://www.anirudhkanisetti.com/home/episode-1

Echoes is a history podcast like no other. It's by Indians, about Indians, for Indians: A 700-year journey from the invasion of Alexander to the Gupta Empire, from the sublime Greek art of Gandhara to the pearl-white Buddhist stupas of Andhra to the thriving port cities of the Tamil land. Along the way, monks debate, queens boast, and armies roar. In Echoes, the past comes back to life - noisy, breathing, as thriving as the Indian subcontinent is today. Each week, host Anirudh Kanisetti takes you through a new aspect of the wonder that was ancient India. From politics to philosophy, culture to religion, hear the history of this land unfold every Monday, starting 19th November.

At a time when the word "civilisation" is the subject of great debate, Kamila Shamsie explores the meaning of the word through the prism of Indian art. "If you really want to understand how the world's civilisations interact and meld", she writes, "go and look at the art of Gandhara". Producer: Adele Armstrong.

Este é o episódio 156 do Retrohitz. Neste episódio, jogos de PC-88. Ainda não tínhamos feito um Retrohitz com o micro japonês, então taí a trilha sonora dos jogos Gandhara, Silpheed e Shinra Banshou. Duração: 79 minutos Download em ZIP Não se esqueça de deixar seu comentário aí embaixo; afinal, seu comentário é o nosso … Continue lendo Retrohitz #156 – Jogos do PC-88 →

Problems of Chronology in Gandharan Art (Session 1, 23rd March 2017) with Dr. Peter Stewart, Joe Cribb and Prof. Monika Zin 'Welcome and Introduction' Peter Stewart, 'Numismatic Evidence and the Date of Kanishka' Joe Cribb 'Buddhist Art's Late Bloomer: The Genius and Influence of Gandhara' Monika Zin

Due figure antitetiche, due modi opposti di abitare la propria vita, due culture lontane nel tempo e diversissime. Buddha Sakyamuni, figlio di re, vissuto attorno al V secolo a.C. in India, concepisce un sistema di pratiche mistiche per porre fine alla sofferenza umana, attraverso l'introspezione che conduce a una vita morale, al rispetto di tutti gli esseri viventi e che porta alla salvazione dal ciclo delle rinascite. Alessandro, anch'esso figlio di re, vissuto duecento anni dopo, arrogante e inquieto, conquista l’Oriente diventando il mito di popolazioni diversissime. Questo fortunoso incrocio sarà l'inizio di un innesto riuscitissimo di civiltà, religione, cultura, arte e commerci. Una straordinaria commistione di idee e stili, raccontata attraverso le immagini dell'arte Gandhara, che nasce dall'arte ellenistico-romana, assorbe influenze medio orientali e centro asiatiche, e finisce per determinare l’immagine del Buddha alla guisa di un imperatore romano.

Gandhara Lounge presents mix by Sharapovwww.gandhara.ru

Gandhara Lounge presents mix by Sharapovwww.gandhara.ru

Anatolia: conquered! Syria: conquered! Phoenicia conquered! Judea: conquered! Gaza: conquered! Egypt: conquered! Bactria: conquered! Mesopotamia: conquered! India: not so much! Alexander The Great charged across the known world, conquering wherever he went. But now, at last, we are able to reveal why history's most successful military leader turned his troops around when he reached Gandhara. This short comedy was written by James C. Ferguson, and features music by Kevin Macleod of Incompetech.com.

Kurt Behrendt, Metropolitan Museum of Art

Kurt Behrendt, Metropolitan Museum of Art

This week the history of the world as told through one hundred objects is looking at how the world's great religions began trying to find the perfect way to visually express the divine, less than 2000 years ago. Today, Neil MacGregor looks at how a stone sculpture from modern day Pakistan can tell us about how Buddhism set about creating the classic image to represent the real life Buddha who lived and roamed around North India in the 5th Century BC. It was not until over five hundred years later when the classic seated image of the Buddha was first formulated. Before then the Buddha was represented only by symbols. How did the Buddha image come about and why do we need such images? The Dalai Lama's official translator, Thupten Jinpa, and the historian Claudine Bautze-Picron help explain. Producer: Anthony Denselow.

Kurt A. Behrendt, Metropolitan Museum of Art

Kurt A. Behrendt, Metropolitan Museum of Art

The astonishing legacy of Alexander the Great in Asia is explored in this lecture, which discusses the unique art that developed in the Greek kingdom of Bactria in present day northern Afghanistan and southern Uzbekistan. Through a study of its impact on the region of Gandhara (Afghanistan and northern Pakistan) in South Asia, further light is thrown upon the Gandharan collections that have recently been displayed in the newly installed Alsdorf Galleries of the Art Institute. This podcast is brought to you by the Ancient Art Podcast. Explore more at ancientartpodcast.org.

In episode 7, we march in the footsteps of one of the most revered and notorious conquerors of the Ancient Mediterranean World, Alexander the Great. We head East into Asia to uncover the remnants of Alexander's empire and discover the bridge where East meets West in ancient Gandhara. Also included is the author's humble opinion on online art museum collection databases. Explore more episodes, image galleries, credits, transcripts, and additional resources at http://ancientartpodcast.org. Connect at http://twitter.com/lucaslivingston and http://facebook.com/ancientartpodcast.