Podcasts about Honshu

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

EPISODE 133 | Cult Pop Suicide: Japanese Cults Japan is a land of many contradictions - very forward-looking but also retrograde. And when it comes to the spiritual side of things, quite a few people seem to fall for various cults, scammers and charlatans. And just offbeat beliefs, like that Jesus' brother died on the cross while He moved to Aomori Prefecture in northern Honshu, where he married and taught and lived until 106. Like what we do? Then buy us a beer or three via our page on Buy Me a Coffee.  Review us here or on IMDb. And seriously, subscribe, will ya?  SECTIONS 04:52 - Hey Mister Banjo - The Yamagishi Society 07:28 - Hotaru no Hikari (Light of the Fireflies) -  Mahikari, the World True Light Civilization Religious Organization 10:34 - Nagaragawa Enka (The Enka of the Nagara River) - Life Space Movement, shakty pat and a mummy 15:44 - Katatsumuri Samba (Snail Samba) - Ho No Hana Sanpōgyō, the Flower of Buddhist Teaching; Hogen Fukunaga and Yogesh Gandhi donate money to the DNC, kick off Chinagate 23:54 - Orokamono (Fool) - Pana-Wave Laboratory, electromagnetic waves, Tama-chan the arctic seal, a police standoff and the end of the world 33:50 - Doctor Head's World Tower - Happy Science, EL Cantare, gods from Venus, Komei No Kai sells water, Happy Science gets political, sets records, gets in beefs and embraces MAGA, pioneers "spiritual vaccines" 43:41 - Lunatic Doll: Ansatsu Keikoku (Assassination Warning) - Aum Shinrikyo has a real bad attitude, the sarin gas attacks of March 20, 1995 plus other crimes before and after 54:26 - Japanese police are unprepared for NRMs, online suicide cults, hikikomori Music by Fanette Ronjat More Info Expo 2025 website Apples, boogie and shamisen: A Brief look at Japanese Popular Music during the Allied Occupation Kazuya Kosaka & the Wagon Masters - Hey Mister Banjo ‘Rokabiri': The Music That Shook Japan on Japan Nakama Glow of the Fireflies/Hotaru no hikari song Japanese Enka Music Nagaragawa Enka song performed by Junko Ishihara Katatsumuri Samba song by Onyanko Club Orokamono song by Masahiko Kondo The World Tower song by Flipper's Guitar Black Hole song by Mari Hamada Keeping the Faith: Christ's Tomb in Aomori and Japanese Religion on Nippon.com The Grave of Jesus Christ on Travel Japan The 5 Scariest Japanese Cults on Japan Daily 10 Bizarre Japanese Cults You've Probably Never Heard Of on Listverse Rise of Japanese cults on BBC Japanese Society and Religion on the Eve of the 21st Century by MAEKAWA Michiko Whatever happened to Yamagishi? in Japan Times The Yamagishi Association: successful, moneyless, leaderless network of communes in Japan and elsewhere on Lowimpact.org Sukyo Mahikari North America website World Divine Light website Japanese Cults–Koji Takahashi and the Life Space Movement on Japan Powered The Corpse And The Cult in Newsweek Life Space Movement (Shakty Pay Guru Foundation) Raided in Japan on Center for Studies on New Religions Life Space guru denies suggesting man leave hospital on Japan Times A battle over mummified body renews worry about Japan cults on DeseretNews Ho No Hana Sanpogyo on Apologetics Index 1996 United States campaign finance controversy on Wikipedia New Religious Movement Raided in Japan: Ho No Hana on CESNUR Honohana foot-cult guru gets 12 years for fraud on Japan Times Pana Wave Laboratory on World Religions and Spirituality Project Doomsday cult makes waves in Japan in The Guardian Probing Pana Wave's nature The Latest Japanese Cult Panic in Religion in the News Pana Wave at the Cult Education Institute A nation's fate is sealed - Guardian article on Tama-chan Foreigners seek same rights as seal on Japan Times Pana Wave: Doomsday and Tama-chan the Seal video Pana Wave pictures Happy Science website Japan's infamous ‘happy' cult sets sights on the United States The Happy Science Religious Movement Claims to Hold the Cure for COVID-19 A Japanese Cult That Believes Its Leader Is an Alien From Venus Is Speaking at CPAC How a fringe religious movement in Japan built a pro-Trump social media empire Happy Science Is the Laziest Cult Ever on Vice Why is Japan the ideal country according to the Alt-Right movement Japan's rising right-wing nationalism video Consideration of the Status of Conspiracy Theories in Japan Based on Attempts at Regime Destruction Overseas in International Information Network Analysis QAnon Is Alive and Well in Japan Aum Shinrikyo: The Japanese cult behind the Tokyo Sarin attack on BBC Chronology of Aum Shinrikyo's CBW Activities paper Aum Shinrikyo report at the Ministry of Justice Revisiting Aum Shinrikyo: New Insights into the Most Extensive Non-State Biological Weapons Program to Date Aleph official website (in Japanese) Aum Sect/Shoko Asahara on Cult Education Institute Religion-Making in Japan's Courts of Law Conspiracy Theories and Their Believers in Contemporary Japan New Religions in Japan Yearning for spiritual leadership, Japan has spawned a rash of apocalyptic religions and ominously popular sects at the Cult Education Institute Japanese New Religious Movements: An Introduction by Franz Weiner in the Handbook of East Asian New Religious Movement Japan's chilling Internet suicide pacts Japan suicide websites targeted after 'house of horrors' Hikikomori, A Japanese Culture-Bound Syndrome of Social Withdrawal? A Proposal for DSM-V Follow us on social: Facebook Twitter Bluesky Other Podcasts by Derek DeWitt DIGITAL SIGNAGE DONE RIGHT - Winner of a 2022 Gold Quill Award, 2022 Gold MarCom Award, 2021 AVA Digital Award Gold, 2021 Silver Davey Award, 2020 Communicator Award of Excellence, and on numerous top 10 podcast lists.  PRAGUE TIMES - A city is more than just a location - it's a kaleidoscope of history, places, people and trends. This podcast looks at Prague, in the center of Europe, from a number of perspectives, including what it is now, what is has been and where it's going. It's Prague THEN, Prague NOW, Prague LATER 

In this episode, we look at Osorezan 恐山, or Mount Fear, as it's ominously known. Located at the northern tip of Honshu, Osorezan is more than just a mountain. It's believed to be one of Japan's entrances to the underworld—a sacred, haunted land where souls pass on… or linger. The Supernatural Japan Podcast uncovers Osorezan's history, religious significance, eerie legends, and lingering mysteries.Follow the podcast: Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/supernaturaljapanBluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/madformaple.bsky.socialFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61551918404228&mibextid=LQQJ4dEmail: supernaturaljapan@gmail.com YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@BusanKevinWebsite: https://supernaturaljapan.buzzsprout.com

After an unforgettable journey, we're back in Tokyo for our Northern Honshu Road Trip Japan conclusion! Our last few days in Japan were all about luxury, sightseeing, and shopping, making for the perfect way to conclude this epic road trip. For our last stop, we checked into the Conrad Tokyo, an incredible luxury hotel in the heart of Ginza. With breathtaking city views, impeccable service, and easy access to some of Tokyo's best shopping and dining, it was the ideal place to unwind before heading home. We then spent our final days in Japan taking in some of the best sights and shopping experiences the city has to offer such as strolling through Ginza, shopping in Ikebukuro, and walking tours of the Imperial Palace and Sensoji Temple in Asakusa. After our extensive self-drive adventure through Tohoku, we made sure to return our rental car on time—because, as we've mentioned in previous episodes, punctuality in Japan is taken very seriously - and made our way back to Haneda for our return flight back to the U.S. As we reflected on our journey, we couldn't help but appreciate all the unique experiences, breathtaking landscapes, and cultural discoveries that made our road trip Japan conclusion one for the books. If you're planning a trip to Tokyo and looking for the best shopping spots, must-see historical sites, and a top-tier luxury hotel recommendation, this episode is a must-listen! For more behind the scenes on all our amazing journeys through Tohoku and Japan, be sure to check out our Destinations and Japan pages.

In this episode, we continue our epic Tohoku road trip with an overnight stopover in Sendai, the largest city in Japan's northeastern region. Our exploration begins at the historic Zuihōden Mausoleum, the ornate resting place of Date Masamune, the legendary samurai known as the "One-Eyed Dragon" and founder of the Sendai Domain. The mausoleum's intricate Momoyama architecture, surrounded by towering cedar trees, offers a profound glimpse into the region's rich history. Adjacent to Zuihōden, we explore the Kansenden Temple along with other mausoleums dedicated to Masamune's successors. Next, a quick visit to the Zuihōden museum provided an immersive experience into Masamune's artifacts and his impressive life. After soaking in the historical ambiance, we headed off to the bustling center of town area near Sendai Station for some shopping and snacks. A stand out for us was a fun and engaging kimono store that offered one of the most enjoyable shopping experiences. Finally, our day culminated with a retreat to the Akiu Onsen area at the renowned Hotel Sakan, a ryokan with over a millennium of history. Here, we indulge in the therapeutic waters of their onsen and savor a meticulously prepared kaiseki dinner, embodying the essence of Japanese hospitality and culinary artistry. For those seeking rich cultural experiences, warm hospitality, and exceptional shopping opportunities in the heart of Tohoku, Sendai should be on your list of places to visit in Japan - and we break it all down for you in this episode!​ For more behind the scenes on all our amazing journeys through Tohoku and Japan, be sure to check out our Destinations and Japan pages.

In this episode of the Pure Life Podcast, we continue our epic road trip through Japan's Tohoku region, journeying south from Aomori Prefecture toward Tokyo. Our first stop is the coastal city of Miyako in Iwate Prefecture, where we refuel and take in the scenic beauty of the area. From there, we proceed to Minamisanriku in Miyagi Prefecture, a town profoundly affected by the March 11, 2011, Tohoku earthquake and tsunami. Here, we embark on a sobering tour to witness firsthand the resilience and recovery efforts of this remarkable community.​ Our accommodation for the night is the renowned Minamisanriku Hotel Kanyo, perched overlooking the sea and the town below. We indulge in their exquisite onsen hot springs and savor an incredible kaiseki course meal. During our stay, we learn about the hotel's pivotal role in the town's recovery efforts, serving as a sanctuary and support hub in the aftermath of the disaster. This episode offers a deep dive into the strength and spirit of Minamisanriku, showcasing the community's journey from devastation to renewal. For more behind the scenes this amazing journey through Tohoku and all of our explorations in Japan, be sure to check out our Destinations and Japan pages.

I staden Hirosaki i Aomori län längst upp i norr på den japanska huvudön Honshu bor sedan mer än trettio år tillbaka en svensk kom dit för att träna kampsporten Taido i ett halvår, men sedan blev kvar.Alvar Hugosson heter han och du möter honom i dagens upplaga av Japanpodden. NyheterDe kraftiga skogsbränder som rasar i Iwate län i norra Japan fortsätter att sprida sig över ett allt större område och har hittills krävt minst ett människoliv och lett till mer än 2 000 personer tvångsevakuerats till skolor och gymnastiksalar. Brandkårer från flera län deltar i släckningsarbetet och myndigheterna uppmanar boende i närheten att vara beredda att evakuera med kort varsel.Perioden februari till april är normalt den mest brandfarliga eftersom det är mycket torrt i skog och mark. I år har det dock ovanligt många bränder, något som vissa bedömare menar kan bero på klimatförändringarna med kortare och torrare vintrar.Det är sex gånger vanligare att utlänningar blir stoppade och utfrågade av polisen i Japan. Det visar en undersökning som gjorts på uppdrag av en grupp advokater i Tokyo.Enligt undersökningen som refereras av bland andra dagstidningen Japan Times har två av tre utlänningar råkat ut för polismaktens opåkallade uppvaktning, medan bara en av åtta japaner råkat ut för samma sak. I de flesta fall handlade det om att man cyklat utan lyse eller haft på sig hörlurar och tittat på sin mobil samtidigt som man cyklade - något som inte är tillåtet i Japan.Poliser som intervjuades anonymt av advokaterna uppgav att de regelbundet beordras av sina chefer att ha särskilt uppsikt över personer som “ser utländska ut” och att de varje månad måste uppfylla en särskild utlänningskvot.Födelsetalen nådde en ny bottennotering under fjolåret och totalt föddes bara 720 000 bebisar, vilket var en minskning med hela 5 procent jämfört med året innan och dessutom det nionde året på raken med fallande födelsetal. Samma trend syns bland annat i Sydkorea, Frankrike och Kina där allt färre väljer att skaffa barn.I Japan minskar befolkningen som helhet och fortsätter trenden som hittills kommer det i Japan bara att finnas ett enda barn någonstans runt år 2 700.Innan det går så långt hoppas regeringen kunna vända trenden och premiärminister Shigeru Ishiba har aviserat ett mångmiljardprogram som bland annat innefattar fler daghem och lägre skolavgifter.Årets löneförhandlingar ser ut att slå rekord. Den japanska Metallarbetarunionen som representerar två miljoner anställda i verkstadsindustrin har aviserat att den kommer att kräva löneökningar på motsvarande drygt ett tusen svenska kronor per månad, vilket är det högsta kravet sedan 2014.Anledningen är inte minst att den japanska centralbanken Bank of Japan nu övergett nollräntepolitiken vilket lett till en inflationen börjat röra sig uppåt för första gången på många år. Till detta kommer stigande priser på mat och boende. Särskilt grönsaker och den japanska stapelvaran ris har gått upp kraftigt. Så mycket har priserna stigit att japanska media rapporterar om att matbutikerna har börjat vitkål och salladskål delade i fjärdedelar eftersom kunderna annars drar sig för att handla.Jätteaffären kring jourbutikkedjan Seven-Eleven har satts på paus sedan handelshuset Itochu dragit sig ur en finansieringplan som innebar att man skulle skjuta till motsvarande drygt 600 miljarder svenska kronor för att den nuvarande ledningen tillsammans med grundarna skulle kunna köpa ut moderbolaget Seven and I Holdings från börsen.Nu riktas återigen sökarljuset mot den kanadensiska kedjan Couche-Tard som bland annat driver Circle K bensinmackar runt om i världen, bland annat i Sverige.Det kanadensiska bolaget har tidigare varit aktuellt som köpare men det bud man lade ansågs vara för lågt.Seven-Eleven är världens största jourbutikkedja. Den grundades i USA, men växte starkast i Japan. Så stark att det japanska dotterbolaget till sist köpte ut sina amerikanska grundare. This is a public episode. If you would like to discuss this with other subscribers or get access to bonus episodes, visit japanpodden.substack.com

Last time we spoke about the liberation of Bataan and Corregidor. The Shimbu Group's commander launched a coordinated raid on northern Manila, aiming to weaken enemy defenses. Despite heavy casualties, the Allies captured key locations, including Nichols Field. Meanwhile, General Chase's 38th Division overcame strong Japanese defenses at ZigZag Pass, while General Hall's forces secured Bataan. Plans for an airborne assault on Corregidor were set for February 16, leveraging surprise against the outnumbered Japanese garrison. American forces launched the strategic attack on Corregidor, dropping paratroopers from the 503rd Regiment. Despite facing sporadic fire, they secured key positions. The following days saw intense skirmishes as the 3rd Battalion, 34th Regiment landed and established a foothold. Over eight days, they repelled numerous Japanese counterattacks, inflicting heavy casualties. By February 26, organized resistance crumbled, leading to the island's capture. Meanwhile, in Manila, American troops advanced, clearing buildings and securing the city, inching closer to victory in the Philippines. This episode is the Invasion of Iwo Jima Welcome to the Pacific War Podcast Week by Week, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about world war two? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on world war two and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel you can find a few videos all the way from the Opium Wars of the 1800's until the end of the Pacific War in 1945.    A few weeks ago we spoke about Operation Detachment. Admirals Nimitz and Spruance were planning an invasion of Iwo Jima with General Schmidt's 5th Amphibious Corps. During a thorough campaign of preliminary air and naval bombardment against the Volcano Islands, the 4th and 5th Marine Divisions, along with other Corps units, were loading at Hawaii between December 25 and January 25. Once training and loading were complete, Admiral Turner's Task Force 51 and Admiral Hill's Task Force 53 left Pearl Harbor on January 27, initially heading toward Saipan. By February 12, Admiral Spruance's 5th Fleet had gathered in the Marianas and was prepared to sail for Iwo Jima. Additionally, Admiral Mitscher's Task Force 58 had departed Ulithi to conduct a series of supporting air strikes over and around Tokyo, known as Operation Jamboree. Task Force 58 sortied from Ulithi 10 February and shaped a course eastward of the Marianas and Bonins. On the 12th, the air groups rehearsed with the 3rd Marine Division on Tinian. Two days later the task force fueled at sea from one of Admiral Beary's replenishment groups. Everything possible was done to guard against detection. Measures included radio deception, scouting by Pacific Fleet submarines to dispose of any picket vessels there might be en route, scouting by B-29s and Navy Liberators from the Marianas to clear the air. On the 15th a scouting line of five destroyers ranged ahead of the carriers, and antisubmarine air patrol was set up. At 1900 a high-speed run-in began towards launching positions, where the carriers arrived at dawn 16 February. Thanks to these precautions, and to thick weather most of the way, they arrived undetected. General LeMay's 21st Bomber Command, which was being reinforced by the 313th and 314th Bombardment Wings, would also assist Detachment with several strikes against Japan. Following some unremarkable high-altitude daytime missions in late January, 129 B-29s from the 73rd and 313th Bombardment Wings targeted Kobe on February 3, using a mix of incendiaries and fragmentation bombs. This attack caused significant damage to the urban area and local war production, resulting in the loss of 2 bombers and damage to 35 others. Subsequently, on February 10, a precision strike was launched against Ota's Nakajima aircraft factory, with 84 out of 118 dispatched B-29s successfully bombing the site. However, only 14% of the bombs hit the target, leading to the loss of 12 bombers and damage to 29. Nearly one-third of the factory buildings sustained damage, primarily from the incendiaries combined with high-explosive bombs. Five days later, LeMay dispatched 117 B-29 bombers to target Mitsubishi's engine works in Nagoya. However, an unexpected cold front resulted in only 33 bombers reaching the target area, yielding lackluster results. Meanwhile, after conducting some assault rehearsals, Spruance's amphibious support forces and tractor groups set sail for Iwo Jima on February 14, followed two days later by Turner's main assault convoy. At the same time, the reserve 3rd Marine Division continued loading at Guam, with its 21st Marines departing for Iwo Jima on February 16, followed by the main body of the division the next day. On the morning of February 16, Admiral Blandy's Amphibious Support Force arrived off Iwo Jima and promptly commenced the final preliminary bombardment and minesweeping operations, although inclement weather hindered these efforts. However, the next day, Task Force 52 successfully carried out these missions; beach reconnaissance by UDTs faced heavy mortar fire, resulting in the sinking of one LCI gunboat, damage to eleven others, and casualties of 44 killed and 152 wounded. Despite this, the frogmen encountered no obstacles on the beaches and managed to create accurate maps of the approaches. Meanwhile, by February 16, Mitscher's carriers had quietly moved to a position 60 miles off the coast of Honshu, launching extensive fighter sweeps against airfields in Tokyo Bay and bombing raids on aircraft frame and engine plants in the Tokyo area.  About 100 Japanese fighters attacked Admiral Davison's planes as they crossed the coast and about 40 of them were shot down. American pilots found the Japanese on the whole reluctant to engage; Admiral Mitscher had correctly told his pilots, "He is probably more afraid of you than you are of him". In fact the IJAAF 10th Hiko Shidan immediately ordered an IJAAF night-fighter group and all “second-class” personnel to take cover, while all aircraft not intercepting were ordered to be dispersed, fuel tanks drained, and ammunition unloaded. In contrast, American pilots reported Tokyo antiaircraft fire “the most accurate and intense yet encountered.” By nightfall, Rear-Admiral Matthias Gardner's night-flying carrier group conducted a sweep of night fighters to cover the enemy airfields at dusk. This operation was repeated the following morning, but poor weather ultimately forced the carriers to retreat toward Iwo Jima. Despite this, significant damage was inflicted on aircraft frame and engine facilities, with 10 vessels sunk, including the unfinished escort carrier Yamashio Maru. A total of 531 aircraft were reported destroyed, at the expense of losing 88 planes and damaging two destroyers. On February 18, after the enemy battery camouflage had been obliterated during the previous two days of bombardment. This revealed batteries not previously known to exist, the island's defenses were for the first time properly revealed; and formidable they were indeed. Fortunately for the Americans, the support of UDTs with LCI gunboats had convinced General Kuribayashi that the main landing had started, and to repel it he unmasked batteries that would have caused very heavy casualties on D-day had they not been discovered two days before. This was the only serious mistake made by the Japanese general in his defensive tactics, which won the rueful admiration of his enemies. Blandy opted to focus on the immediate area and flanks of the eastern beaches. Heavy ships moved closer to 2,500 yards to deliver concentrated direct fire on all targets. Consequently, bombardment ships provided continuous direct fire throughout the day, effectively dismantling enemy defenses. However, during the night, the Japanese launched a minor raid that caused significant damage to the destroyer minesweeper Gamble and the destroyer escort Blessman. At 06:00 on February 19, Turner's main force arrived off Iwo Jima and began maneuvering into final positions. Simultaneously, Admiral Rodgers' warships executed the last pre-landing bombardment, coordinated with air strikes from Mitscher's carriers. Between 08:25 and 08:55, as the first wave crossed the line of departure and advanced toward the shore under the protective rocket fire of gunboats, shells fell heavily on Iwo Jima, marking the most intense pre-landing bombardment of World War II. At 08:57, as the leading armored amtracs approached their targets, naval gunfire shifted inland and to the flanks. The LVTs of the first wave touched down on Iwo Jima at 09:02 and began moving forward through the high terraces of soft black volcanic ash, engaging inland targets from the water to support subsequent landings. Three minutes later, the Marines of the 4th and 5th Divisions started landing side by side on the Green, Red, Yellow, and Blue beaches. The assault infantry battalions of the Landing Force received assistance throughout D-Day from all the supporting arms available to the Amphibious Support Force. Carrier pilots of Task Force 58 and the escort carriers of Task Force 52 flew missions all day as airborne observers and spotters maintained constant vigilance over the target. Including pre-H-Hour strikes, 606 support aircraft flew 26 missions on February 19 and dropped 274500 pounds of bombs. These planes also fired 2254 rockets into the island defenses and dropped over a hundred napalm bombs. Air and naval gunfire liaison teams remained in communication with both air and sea supporting units through the hectic hours that followed the beach assault. Naval rifles from 5- to 16-inch caliber pounded enemy positions in response to Marine requests. Gunfire support vessels engaged enemy artillery that covered landing areas from high ground to the north, and concentrated on concealed Japanese mortars that shelled landing areas with deadly effect. The units quickly reorganized and began their advance inland, facing only light resistance, although their progress was hampered by the sandy terrain. General Kuribayashi's forces, however, had been waiting in well-fortified underground positions as planned, emerging only after the bombardment ceased to unleash a barrage of machine-gun, rifle, and mortar fire on the advancing troops. As the initial waves of Marines struggled to advance, congestion along the shore became increasingly critical, while the full force of the Japanese defenders was unleashed shortly after 10:00. By 10:30, elements from all eight assault battalions had landed on the island, successfully bringing ashore about 6,000 men and bulldozers that were clearing paths for tank deployment. On the far left flank, Colonel Harry Liversedge's 28th Marines, having landed on Green Beach, initiated a rapid advance across the half-mile isthmus below Mount Suribachi to isolate this crucial position. The attack unfolded in such a way that some units were delayed while others managed to break through and continue westward despite suffering heavy casualties, ultimately crossing the island while the bypassed enemy was being dealt with. By midday, the reserve 3rd Battalion and tanks landed under heavy fire to join the afternoon assault on Suribachi, but intense enemy fire hindered their progress to the assault positions. Consequently, the 2nd Battalion launched an attack on its own, gaining only 150 yards before retreating to regroup with the 3rd Battalion for the night. At the same time, Colonel Thomas Wornham's 27th Marines had landed on the Red Beaches, making swift progress inland despite increasing casualties and bypassing numerous enemy positions. By 11:30, Company A was moving across the southern end of Airfield No. 1, establishing a presence along the western edge while other units continued to advance past the airfield. The 1st Battalion launched an attack on the airfield with tank support but faced strong enemy resistance, resulting in minimal gains. Meanwhile, the 2nd Battalion pushed westward and reached the cliffs overlooking the western coast. Additionally, the reserve 3rd Battalion landed and began clearing bypassed positions, while the artillery units from the 13th Marines and General Rockey's reserve 26th Marines also arrived in the afternoon as the 27th and 28th Marines solidified their positions. By nightfall, although the 5th Marine Division was still a considerable distance from the O-1 Line, it had established a firm foothold on the island, with Mount Suribachi isolated and portions of the airfield under their control. To the east, General Cates' 4th Marine Division also landed successfully, with Colonel Walter Wensinger's 23rd Marines coming ashore at the Yellow Beaches and Colonel John Lanigan's 25th Marines landing on Blue Beach 1 and the southern part of Blue Beach 2. The two regiments began their advance inland, hindered by intense enemy fire but managing to gain between 400 and 600 yards by midday. As tanks were being deployed, the 3rd Battalion of the 25th Marines moved to the right to clear the remaining area of Beach Blue 2 and encircle the threatening quarry zone. At this stage, as the assault battalions continued their advance, Wensinger and Lanigan deployed their reserve battalions to cover the gaps in their attack lines. With the support of tanks that had finally reached the front, the 23rd Marines advanced towards Airfield No. 1 and successfully captured its outskirts. Meanwhile, the 25th Marines initiated a coordinated assault, with the 3rd Battalion advancing about 200 yards along the beach to secure the problematic quarry, while the other two battalions moved north to seize the high ground to the northwest of the quarry. By the end of the day, Cates had also landed half of the artillery from the 14th Marines, along with his reserve 24th Marines, which began to relieve some of the frontline units from both assault regiments. Although the penetration by the 4th Marine Division was not as extensive as intended, by nightfall, the front lines included the eastern edge of the airfield and extended sufficiently inland from the Blue Beaches to ensure the beachhead could be held successfully. The Marines, forced to advance across open terrain while enduring intense fire from well-concealed positions that were difficult to target, fell significantly short of the O-1 objective. Nonetheless, by the end of the day, six Marine regiments, an equal number of artillery battalions, and two tank battalions had landed and were positioned to defend the narrow beachhead against a potential night counterattack.  Throughout this first day, the situation on the beaches prevented landing of any but the highest priority "hot cargo." This consisted of ammunition, rations, water, and signal equipment brought to the beach in LCVPs and LCMs. Shore party teams, working under extremely adverse conditions without sufficient trucks and other heavy equipment, could do little more than stack the supplies on the beach above the high water mark. LVTs and weasels made trips from the beach dumps inland carrying these supplies to the troops and returned bearing wounded men. The busy amtracs also made nonstop trips from LSTs, ferrying critically needed items direct to Marines on the front lines. Most of the transports and other vessels of the task force retired from the island at nightfall, but some command ships, preloaded LSTs, and hospital LSTs remained behind. Emergency items, especially 81mm mortar ammunition, were brought in during the night, but actually very little unloading was accomplished and many of the wounded spent this night on the beach because they could not be evacuated. Some progress was made cutting exits through the terrace and clearing mines, but enemy fire and the shortage of equipment limited this activity. Despite this, the Japanese did not launch any large-scale assaults, although their mortars and artillery relentlessly bombarded Marine lines along the front throughout the night. Consequently, Allied casualties on this first day totaled 548 killed and 1,755 wounded. On February 20, the goal was for the 28th Marines to take Mount Suribachi while other units advanced north to capture the two airfields. Initially, in the south, after a coordinated air and naval bombardment, Liversedge launched another assault on the volcano but managed to gain only 75 yards by midday. During the forenoon, Marines gained only 50-70 yards. Aircraft and ships pounded Japanese positions and the 3d Battalion, 13th Marines fired mission after mission, but stiff enemy resistance continued, particularly from well-camouflaged pillboxes hidden in the brush to the front of the Marine lines. These emplacements, too close to friendly troops to be engaged by heavy support weapons, could only be silenced by coordinated attacks of assault demolition teams using flamethrowers and explosive charges. Tanks then moved in to provide support, allowing the attack to progress from pillbox to pillbox; however, by the end of the day, the Marines had only advanced 200 difficult yards. Meanwhile, Schmidt's other regiments initiated a coordinated offensive to the north following extensive artillery, naval gunfire, and air support. Despite facing heavy resistance, the 23rd Marines successfully overran most of Airfield No. 1 by noon. Wensinger continued to push his units in the afternoon, but progress was limited as tanks were hindered by minefields and rough terrain. Wornham's 27th Marines pressed their attack on the left flank, overcoming enemy mortar and artillery fire to gain about 800 yards along the coast. In contrast, Lanigan's 25th Marines, affected by friendly fire, made only minimal advances against enemy crossfire from concealed positions. At 1600, friendly planes misdirected their fire to the 25th Marine's area, adding terror to the situation. An air strike consisting of .50-caliber machine-gun strafing, rockets, and bombs fell on troops of Company B of the 24th Marines, which was positioned on top of the quarry some 400 yards inland from the eastern shore. This strike was made without a preliminary "dry-run", and despite the fact that yellow front line panels were displayed prior to and during the aerial attack. The 1st Battalion, 24th Marines suffered five killed and six wounded as a result of this misguided effort. Shortly after the planes left the area, this battalion reported that friendly artillery and naval gunfire was being registered on its lines. Due to the slow progress, Schmidt attempted to land his reserve 21st Marines, but high seas and congested beaches ultimately thwarted these efforts. Nevertheless, the remaining 14th Marines were landed, albeit with significant casualties, and elements of the corps artillery began to come ashore. During the night, there were no counterattacks on Mount Suribachi, but the 4th and 5th Marine Divisions had to fend off some small counterattacks on their front lines. On February 21, following a strike involving 40 aircraft, Liversedge's 28th Marines launched another assault on the volcano. The 1st Battalion on the right swiftly advanced along the west beach to the base of Suribachi, while the 3rd Battalion in the center pushed nearly to the foot of the mountain despite facing heavy resistance. Meanwhile, the 2nd Battalion on the left moved cautiously along the east beach toward the volcano's base, with Company F heading toward Tobiishi Point. At the same time, other regiments continued their offensive towards O-1 after a bombardment from air, artillery, rockets, and naval gunfire. Rockey's units made significant progress, advancing over 1,000 yards, while the 23rd Marines achieved similar gains on the left flank, where slightly sheltered areas allowed for local and limited encirclement, but only advanced 100 yards in the right and center. The 25th Marines maintained steady pressure against the strong enemy defenses, gaining between 50 and 300 yards across the front. Colonel Hartnoll Withers' 21st Marines successfully landed this time; due to heavy casualties in the center, they were assigned to relieve the exhausted 23rd Marines. By nightfall, the Marines had to fend off several local counterattacks and infiltration attempts.  During the night, 50 kamikaze planes targeted Blandy's Task Force 52. They were picked up by the radar of the USS Saratoga, a veteran carrier of the Pacific War, and six fighters were sent to intercept. They shot down two Zeros but the remaining Zeros plowed on through the low lying cloud, two of them trailing smoke, and slammed into the side of the carrier turning the hangers into an inferno. Another solitary attacker smashed into the flight deck leaving a gaping hole 100 yards from the bow. Damage control teams worked wonders and within one hour the fires were under control and the Saratoga was able to recover a few of her planes. Another aircraft, a "Betty" twin engined bomber, tore into the escort carrier USS Bismarck Sea. The decks were full of aircraft and the ensuing explosion caused uncontrollable fires. Abandon ship was sounded and 800 men went over the side. Within a few minutes a huge explosion ripped off the entire stern of the carrier and she rolled 38 over and sank. Three other ships were also damaged: the escort carrier USS Lunga Point was showered with flaming debris as four aircraft were blasted out of the sky; the minesweeper Keokuk was damaged when a "Jill" dive bomber hit her deck; and LST 477 loaded with Sherman tanks received a glancing blow. The Saratoga, with destroyer escort, returned to Pearl Harbor, but by the time the damage was repaired the war was over. The kamikazes had done their work well: 358 men killed, one carrier sunk, and another severely damaged. It was a grim preview of the mayhem they would later cause during the invasion of Okinawa in April. On February 22, amidst a dreary cold rain, Liversedge renewed his assault on Suribachi, where only half of the original garrison remained to oppose the Marine advance. There was no let-up in the weather on Wednesday as Marines of the 28th Regiment, drenched to the skin and bent by the wind, prepared to renew the attack on Suribachi. Fresh supplies of ammunition had been brought to the front during the night, but the Shermans were mired in mud and the Navy declined to supply air support in the appalling weather. It was to be up to the foot soldier with rifle, flamethrower, grenade, and demolition charge to win the day. Colonel Atsuchi still had 800-900 men left and they had no intention of allowing the Americans an easy victory. Major Youamata announced: "We are surrounded by enemy craft of all sizes, shapes and descriptions, enemy shells have smashed at our installations and defenses, their planes bomb and strafe yet we remain strong and defiant. The Americans are beginning to climb the first terraces towards our defenses. Now they shall taste our steel and lead." Throughout the day, the 28th Marines engaged Japanese positions on the lower slopes of the mountain, with the 3rd Battalion making the final push to the base of Suribachi while the other two battalions cleared the coastline to completely encircle the volcano. Simultaneously, Schmidt's northern sweep continued, with the 21st Marines replacing Wensinger's troops, and Colonel Chester Graham's 26th Marines taking over on the 5th Division front. The 26th Marines advanced approximately 400 yards in the center but ultimately had to withdraw as the flanking units could not progress; the 21st Marines began their assault on the formidable defenses of Colonel Ikeda's 145th Regiment in front of Airfield No. 2, managing to advance only about 250 yards on the right; and the 25th Marines were unable to launch an attack on the left due to Withers' lack of significant gains and had to fend off several local Japanese counterattacks. Marine "Howlin' Mad" Smith aboard the USS Auburn was counting the cost. Three days of battle and the Regimental Returns listed 2,517 casualties for the 4th Division and 2,057 for the 5th: 4,574 dead and wounded and the O-1 line had just been reached. Little did he know that as his Marines approached the hills, ravines, canyons, gullies, and cliffs of the north the worst was yet to come. Additionally, as the 4th Division remained stalled, Cates ordered Colonel Walter Jordan's 24th Marines to relieve the weary troops of Lanigan on the right. During the night, most of Task Force 58 departed the area for a second air strike against Tokyo, which significantly limited the availability of aircraft for direct support of ground forces on Iwo Jima. On February 23, the 28th Marines under Liversedge launched their final assault on Suribachi. The 2nd Battalion was tasked with scaling the volcano's heights, while the 1st Battalion advanced south around the mountain's western side. To their surprise, they encountered no enemy fire, and small patrols reached the crater's edge by 09:40. 1st Lieutenant Harold G. Schrier, executive officer of Company E, and a 40-man detachment set out to follow the patrols and occupy the highest point of land on Iwo Jima. The number of live Japanese lurking in caves along this north face was unknown, so flankers were sent out to guard against ambush as Schrier's men clawed their way warily upward. Still there was a mysterious lack of enemy activity, and the only Japanese encountered were the harmless dead. Positions along the rim of the crater were reached at about 10:15, and as Marines scrambled over the lip, the tenseness was eased by action. A small defending force challenged the patrol and a short, hot fight developed. Even while this skirmish was in progress, some of the men located a length of Japanese iron pipe, secured a small American flag to one end, and raised the Stars and Stripes at 10:20. It was an inspiring sight for thousands of Americans on Iwo as the flag waved bravely from the summit. Shortly after the mounting of this flag that measured only 54 inches by 28 inches, an unidentified Marine went aboard LST 779, beached near the base of the volcano, to obtain a larger set of colors. As this second and larger (8 feet by 4 feet 8 inches) flag was being carried up the slopes of Suribachi, photographer Joe Rosenthal, who covered the Iwo operation for the Associated Press, noticed it and instantly started in close pursuit. His efforts that morning resulted in the now famous picture of the second flag raising. Also since it's one of my favorite movies, I wanted to add this passage from the book “Flags of our Fathers” by James Bradley The Secretary of the Navy, James Forrestal, had decided the previous night that he wanted to go ashore and witness the final stage of the fight for the mountain. Now, under a stern commitment to take orders from General Holland "Howlin' Mad" Smith, the secretary was churning ashore in the company of the blunt, earthy general. Their boat touched the beach just after the flag went up, and the mood among the high command turned jubilant. Gazing upward, at the red, white, and blue speck, Forrestal remarked to Smith: "Holland, the raising of that flag on Suribachi means a Marine Corps for the next five hundred years". Forrestal was so taken with fervor of the moment that he decided he wanted the Second Battalion's flag flying on Mt. Suribachi as a souvenir. The news of this wish did not sit well with 2nd Battalion Commander Chandler Johnson, whose temperament was every bit as fiery as Howlin Mad's. "To hell with that!" the colonel spat when the message reached him. The flag belonged to the battalion, as far as Johnson was concerned. He decided to secure it as soon as possible, and dispatched his assistant operations officer, Lieutenant Ted Tuttle, to the beach to obtain a replacement flag. As an afterthought, Johnson called after Tuttle: "And make it a bigger one." Following this, the 28th Marines conducted mopping-up operations to eliminate remaining enemy positions and seal off caves at the base of Suribachi. All accessible outer and inner slopes were covered as the Marines annihilated enemy snipers and blasted shut the many cave entrances, sealing in an uncounted number of Japanese. Much observation equipment was found, emphasizing the fact that this had been an excellent point of vantage from which hostile observers directed murderous fire against the entire beachhead. Marine artillerymen, ready and eager to seize this advantage, hastened to move flash-ranging equipment into position. By nightfall, approximately 122 Japanese soldiers were killed while attempting to infiltrate American lines. Over the five-day period, the 28th Marines suffered 895 casualties, while nearly 2,000 Japanese were either killed or trapped in over 1,000 caves in the area. Kuribayashi had not anticipated the loss of this strategically significant location so early in the battle, and the survivors who managed to breach American lines faced severe reprimands upon their return to the north. For the remainder of the month, the 28th Marines focused on clearing out stubborn Japanese forces, reorganizing, and reequipping. Meanwhile, fighting in the north persisted as the three assault regiments advanced toward the O-2 Line. The 26th and 21st Marines faced heavy fire and struggled to make progress, while the 24th Marines advanced along their entire front, gaining up to 300 yards in some areas. On this day, the situation on the beach steadily improved as clearance efforts, construction of exits, and unloading continued, facilitating the arrival of essential ammunition and an additional 25 tanks. On February 24, following extensive air, naval, and artillery preparations, the offensive resumed. However, the initial failure of tanks to join the assault due to minefields and heavy anti-tank fire forced the Marines to advance slowly under intense fire from various sources. In the center, the 3rd Battalion, 21st Marines advanced 800 yards, reaching the north side of the east-west runway of Airfield No. 2, while the 2nd Battalion gradually moved northward around the end of the runway by noon. In the afternoon, as tank support began to arrive, Withers' 3rd Battalion captured the hill north of the airstrip after a fierce hand-to-hand battle. Simultaneously, his 2nd Battalion coordinated with the 26th Marines to seize the elevation beyond the airfield. Graham's troops easily secured the ground in front but had to pause their advance when they found themselves about 400 yards ahead of the 21st Marines. On the right flank, the 24th Marines initially made significant progress alongside Withers' men toward the airfield but were ultimately halted by the strong defenses on Charlie-Dog Ridge.  Running along the southeast edge of the east-west runway of Airfield Number 2 was a ridge known only as "Charlie-Dog Ridge." In prolongation of this ridge, on a lower level to the southeast, was a semicircular rise of ground that formed the "Amphitheater." In this area, Japanese engineers had constructed some of the most formidable defenses on the island. From the south, the approach traversed bare flat ground swept by guns on the ridge. To the east, the route led across a weird series of volcanic outcroppings and draws. It was against these positions that the 24th Marines moved out on D-plus-5. Assault squads then had to methodically clear the ridge, moving from one strongpoint to another, using fire and explosives until Charlie-Dog was secured. While the overall gains for the day were notable by Iwo Jima standards, the casualty figures were also high, with the Marines suffering 1,034 killed and 3,741 wounded during the five-day push to the second airfield. Additionally, the remainder of General Erskine's 3rd Marine Division began landing that day to officially take control of the central area. On February 25, a decision was made to hold back the 26th Marines to allow the 3rd Division to align with them. After another intense bombardment, Colonel Howard Kenyon's 9th Marines advanced through the 21st to continue the assault, but the two-battalion attack only managed to gain a meager 100 yards against Ikeda's determined defenders. Kenyon then deployed his reserve 3rd Battalion in the center, but it also failed to break through. To the east, the 23rd and 24th Marines launched simultaneous attacks, but only the 23rd made significant progress, overrunning the eastern end of the strip and establishing a foothold on the high ground to the north. Meanwhile, in the morning, Mitscher's carriers conducted a second strike on Tokyo. The Japanese sighted 600 US carrier aircraft on February 25, but Rear Admiral “Ted” Sherman reported, “The enemy opposition was only halfhearted and Japanese planes which were not shot down seemed glad to withdraw from the scene … as swiftly and unceremoniously as possible. Even here, over their own capital, the enemy were notably inferior to our naval aviators in aggressiveness, tactics, and determination.” TF-58 aircraft hit the Ota and Koizumi aircraft plants, but increasingly snowy, stormy weather meant Mitscher canceled further Tokyo strikes at 1215hrs. Spruance and Mitscher decided to hit Nagoya instead. En route to Nagoya that night destroyers USS Hazelwood and Murray sank three small Japanese craft. Eventually Mitscher realized TF-58 would not reach launching position on time, and at 0530hrs Spruance and Mitscher canceled the Nagoya strikes and headed south to refuel. TF-58 claimed 47 Japanese planes shot down and 111 destroyed on the ground for a total of 158 Japanese planes destroyed on February 25. Two hangars, one radar station, and two trains were destroyed. About 75 percent of the Ota engine plant's buildings were destroyed and an additional 15 percent heavily damaged. The Koizuma plant had also been heavily hit, and five coastal vessels and several smaller craft sunk, with another 14 vessels damaged. Total US losses were nine aircraft to antiaircraft fire and four to operational causes; four pilots were lost.. After TF-58 aircraft had plastered the Nakajima Ota airframe plant with 45 tons of bombs, February 25 photoreconnaissance revealed Ota to be 60 percent destroyed and 30 percent heavily damaged, although half of this was believed due to B-29s. After the photos TF-58 aircraft dropped another 13 tons on the plant. The Nakajima Koizuma plant was attacked on February 25 with 35 to 40 tons of bombs, with hits concentrated in the center of the plant. Reconnaissance showed 20 percent of the Koizuma roof damaged. The Hitachi–Tachikawa aircraft engine plant was attacked by one Task Group strike, with US airmen reporting “excellent results.” Photographs showed many bomb hits, but smoke made precise damage assessments difficult. Slight damage was also inflicted on the Tachikawa airframe plant. TF-58 planes struck the B-29s' nemesis, the Musashino-Tama aircraft engine plant, with 40 tons of bombs in the center of the Tama complex.  On that day, LeMay also dispatched 231 B-29s to attack Tokyo with incendiaries, with 172 successfully dropping 453.7 tons of bombs, incinerating a square mile of the city. This operation served as the "conclusive" test of the incendiary bombs that the 20th Air Force had requested, with valuable lessons to be learned for future use. The next day, the 26th Marines resumed their attack despite the high ground on the left remaining unclaimed, successfully advancing over 300 yards in the right and center. In the center, the 9th Marines continued their assault with the 1st and 2nd Battalions side by side, but they made no notable gains. On the right flank, the 23rd Marines launched another assault towards Hill 382, facing heavy resistance and managing to advance only about 200 yards. Concurrently, Lanigan's 25th Marines moved through the battered 24th Marines, achieving an advance of approximately 100 yards before encountering intense machine-gun fire from the Amphitheater and Turkey Knob. On February 27, Wonrham's 27th Marines took over from the exhausted 26th and continued to push northward despite rising casualties, successfully overrunning several strongpoints and gaining about 500 yards across the front. In the center, the 9th Marines finally breached the enemy's main defenses towards Hill 199-O and captured Hill Peter, securing Airfield No. 2. Meanwhile, on the right, the 4th Division pressed on against the heavily fortified Japanese positions at the Meatgrinder, advancing only 150 to 200 yards on each flank while struggling to make headway against the Amphitheater and Turkey Knob. In the final attack of the month, the 27th Marines advanced towards Hill 362A, reaching its base but were forced to retreat nearly 100 yards due to Japanese counterattacks and loss of communication. In the center, Withers' 21st Marines moved past the 9th Marines and rapidly advanced north of Airfield No. 2, making significant progress on the right as they swept through Motoyama village and captured the high ground overlooking Airfield No. 3. To the east, Cates continued to send troops into the Meatgrinder, with the 23rd Marines gaining over 200 yards and launching an attack on Hill 382, while the 25th Marines struggled to make any headway against the Amphitheater and Turkey Knob, achieving only minor gains along the coast. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. And thus we have begun one of the most brutal battles of WW2, let alone the Pacific War. It was a controversial decision to invade Iwo Jima and the Americans could never have predicted how the Japanese would change their tactics to turn the entire ordeal into one giant meat grinder.

Discover the Hidden Gems of Tohoku: Hachinohe and Hoshino Resorts Aomoriya In our latest episode of the Pure Life Podcast, we continue our journey through Japan's enchanting Tohoku region, focusing on the coastal charm of Hachinohe and the luxurious retreat at Hoshino Resorts Aomoriya. Hachinohe offers visitors pristine nature, amazing food, and thrilling history. We toured around this laid-back coastal city, rich in history and natural beauty. After a quick lunch of delicious tonkatsu at a local eatery, we then made our way to another gem - the Hoshino Resorts Aomoriya hotel. .The renowned Hoshino Resorts Aomoriya immerses guests in the cultural tapestry of Aomori. The resort's design reflects the region's heritage, offering a unique blend of comfort and tradition. We explored the nearby Komakionsen Shibusawa Park, a serene oasis perfect for relaxation and reflection. But the highlight of our stay was the resort's spectacular outdoor onsen bath, set amidst tranquil natural surroundings. The soothing waters provided the perfect respite after a day of exploration. Additionally, the resort features a charming shopping arcade, offering local crafts and souvenirs that capture the essence of Aomori. A delightful surprise was the "ringo" (apple) juice faucet, allowing guests to enjoy fresh Aomori apple juice on tap—a nod to the region's famed apple production. Finally, the meal at the Noresore Shokudo buffet capped off a perfect end to an amazing day! For travelers seeking an authentic experience in the Tohoku region, this episode of Pure Life Podcast provides all you need to know about Hachinohe and Hoshino Resorts Aomoriya, so you can start planning your unforgettable journey to Japan's Tohoku region today. Don't miss this immersive journey into one of Japan's most captivating natural wonders. For more behind the scenes this and all of our explorations in Japan, be sure to check out our Destinations and Japan pages.

トキ環境省は１４日、国の特別天然記念物トキの本州初となる放鳥について、石川県能登地域で行うことを決めた。 Japan's Environment Ministry on Friday announced plans to release crested ibises in the Noto region in the central prefecture of Ishikawa in June 2026, the first-ever release of the birds protected as a national treasure in the country's Honshu main island.

Japan's Environment Ministry on Friday announced plans to release crested ibises in the Noto region in the central prefecture of Ishikawa in June 2026, the first-ever release of the birds protected as a national treasure in the country's Honshu main island.

This week Seth and Bill take a look at an oft-forgotten, but strategically important, episode of the Pacific War. In July 1945, Admiral William F. Halsey took his mighty 3rd Fleet to the very shores of Japan. Sending his carriers into the harbors and towns to wreak havoc, Halsey then detached his surface forces, specifically his battleships, to shell steel mills and infrastructure facilities along the eastern coast of Honshu. Over the final weeks of the war, battleships like USS South Dakota, USS Massachusetts, USS Indiana, Iowa, Missouri, and others, pounded Japanese infrastructure with impunity. The shellings at Kamaishi, Muroran, Hitachi, and other locales devastated Japanese economy and inflicted abject terror into the civilian populace. Tune in to see what the guys have to say about this little known parade of destruction laid on the Japanese towards the end of the war. #wwii #wwiihistory #ww2 #usnavy #usa #usarmy #medalofhonor #enterprise #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #cv6 #midway #wwii #wwiihistory #ww2 #worldwar2 #usnavy #usnavyseals #usmc #usmarines #saipan #usa #usarmy #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #battleship #battleships #ussenterprise #aircraftcarriers #museum #essex #halsey #taskforce38 #wwii #wwiihistory #ww2 #usnavy #usa #usarmy #medalofhonor #enterprise #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #cv6 #midway #wwii #wwiihistory #ww2 #worldwar2 #usnavy #usnavyseals #usmc #usmarines #saipan #usa #usarmy #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #battleship #battleships #ussenterprise #aircraftcarriers #museum #hollywood #movie #movies #books #mastersoftheair #8thairforce #mightyeighth #100thbombgroup #bloodyhundredth #b17 #boeing #airforce wwii #wwiihistory #ww2 #usnavy #usa #usarmy #medalofhonor #enterprise #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #cv6 #midway #wwii #wwiihistory #ww2 #worldwar2 #usnavy #usnavyseals #usmc #usmarines #saipan #usa #usarmy #aircraft #aircraftcarrier #battleship #battleships #ussenterprise #aircraftcarriers #museum #hollywood #movie #movies #books #oldbreed #1stMarineDivision #thepacific #Peleliu #army #marines #marinecorps #worldwar2 #worldwar #worldwarii #leytegulf #battleofleytegulf #rodserling #twilightzone #liberation #blacksheep #power #prisoner #prisonerofwar #typhoon #hurricane #weather #iwojima#bullhalsey #ace #p47 #p38 #fighter #fighterpilot #b29 #strategicstudying #tokyo #boeing #incendiary #usa #franklin #okinawa #yamato #kamikaze #Q&A #questions #questionsandanswers

Send us a textEpisode 45 transports us to Tohoku in the north-east of Japan's main island of Honshu. Tohoku is a large region comprised of six prefectures – Fukushima, Yamagata, Akita, Miyagi, Iwate and Aomori – known for its open and striking landscapes and distinct local traditions. Leading us on this exploration is photographer Alfonso Calero. With more than 20 years of experience as a professional photographer, Alfonso leads small photography tours to Japan each year, including his 10-day autumn tour in Tohoku.Alfonso's tour focuses on the natural landscapes of Tohoku including the mountains, forests, lakes and rivers of Towada-Hachimantai National Park and rugged rock formations of the Sanriku Coast. The tour balances its focus on landscape with cultural destinations including Towada Art Center and the samurai district of Kakunodate. Full details of the tour can be found on Alfonso's website and you can also follow him on Instagram, Facebook and YouTube. I hope that this episode piques your interest in Alfonso's photography and tours and Tohoku as a destination. Easily accessible thanks to Japan's Shinkansen / Bullet Train network, Tohoku is in every other sense a world away from the congestion, neon and hum of Tokyo. Outland Japan is a bi-weekly podcast hosted by Peter Carnell - a freelance tour guide based in northern Nagano – that transports you to rural, regional and the wilds of Japan in pursuit of stories that lie outside the neon hum of Tokyo and golden trimmings of Kyoto. Stories of travel, life and culture beyond the big cities. Follow the show on Instagram, Facebook and YouTube. Please note, prior to October 2024, Outland Japan was named Snow Country Stories Japan.

In this episode of Pure Life Podcast, join us on an unforgettable road trip through Japan's Tohoku region as we uncover the breathtaking beauty of Oirase Gorge in Aomori Prefecture. Starting from Morioka in Iwate Prefecture, we took a scenic drive filled with rolling hills, lush forests, and glimpses of Japan's rural charm on our journey north. Once at Oirase Gorge, nature's grandeur surrounded us. We explored the stunning rapids, cascading waterfalls, and serene streams that make this gorge a national treasure. The moss-covered rocks, ancient trees, and the sound of rushing water created an atmosphere of tranquility and awe. If you're a nature lover or looking for an immersive Japanese experience, Oirase Gorge should be at the top of your bucket list. After a full day of exploration, we checked into the Hoshino Resorts Oirase Keiryu Hotel, a stay that was just as magical as the gorge itself. From the iconic moss-covered wall in the lobby to the rejuvenating onsen (hot spring baths), the hotel offered a perfect blend of comfort and tradition. We also indulged in their incredible buffet meals, featuring fresh local ingredients and expertly crafted Japanese and Western cuisine. Whether you're dreaming of scenic road trips, tranquil nature hikes, or relaxing in a luxury onsen, this episode will inspire you to add Aomori and the Oirase Gorge to your travel plans. Tune in for insider tips on visiting, navigating the Tohoku region, and making the most of your Japanese adventure! Don't miss this immersive journey into one of Japan's most captivating natural wonders. For more behind the scenes this and all of our explorations in Japan, be sure to check out our Destinations and Japan pages.

In part 4 of our epic Northern Honshu road trip, we take you to the heart of Iwate Prefecture with an overnight stay while exploring Morioka. Known for its serene atmosphere and rich cultural heritage, Morioka didn't disappoint! We share highlights from our luxurious stay at the Shikitei ryokan, where the onsen experience was nothing short of heavenly. The highlight? A multi-course kaiseki dinner crafted from the freshest local, seasonal ingredients—pure culinary artistry at its finest. But not everything went according to plan! We recount a rather unexpected (and slightly embarrassing) encounter with the local traffic police that resulted in a frustrating speeding ticket. Let's just say it added some unwanted excitement to the journey. This episode is packed with travel insights, hidden gems, and practical tips to help you make the most of your exploring Morioka and the Tohoku region adventure in 2025. Whether you're dreaming of onsen escapes or want to laugh along with our travel mishaps, you won't want to miss this one! For more behind the scenes this and all of our explorations in Japan, be sure to check out our Destinations and Japan pages.

This episode we are taking a trip down the Silk Road--or perhaps even the Spice Road--as we investigate references in this reign to individuals from "Tukara" who seem to have arrived in Yamato and stayed for a while. For photos and more, see our podcast webpage:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-119 Rough Transcript   Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  This is episode 119: The Question of “Tukara”   Traveling upon the ocean was never exactly safe.  Squalls and storms could arise at any time, and there was always a chance that high winds and high waves could capsize a vessel.  Most people who found themselves at the mercy of the ocean could do little but hold on and hope that they could ride out whatever adverse conditions they met with.  Many ships were lost without any explanation or understanding of what happened to them.  They simply left the port and never came back home. And so when the people saw the boat pulling up on the shores of Himuka, on the island of Tsukushi, they no doubt empathized with the voyagers' plight.  The crew looked bedraggled, and their clothing was unfamiliar.  There were both men and women, and this didn't look like your average fishing party.  If anything was clear it was this:  These folk weren't from around here. The locals brought out water and food.  Meanwhile, runners were sent with a message:  foreigners had arrived from a distant place.  They then waited to see what the government was going to do.     We are still in the second reign of Takara Hime, aka Saimei Tenno.  Last episode we talked about the palaces constructed in Asuka, as well as some of the stone works that have been found from the period, and which appear to be referenced in the Nihon Shoki—at least tangentially.   The episodes before that, we looked at the expeditions the court sent to the far north of Honshu and even past Honshu to Hokkaido. This episode we'll again be looking past the main islands of the archipelago to lands beyond.  Specifically, we are going to focus on particularly intriguing references to people from a place called “Tukara”.  We'll talk about some of the ideas about where that might be, even if they're a bit  far-fetched. That's because Tukara touches on the state of the larger world that Yamato was a part of, given its situation on the far eastern edge of what we know today as the Silk Road.  And is this just an excuse for me to take a detour into some of the more interesting things going on outside the archipelago?  No comment. The first mention of a man from Tukara actually comes at the end of the reign of Karu, aka Koutoku Tennou.  We are told that in the fourth month of 654 two men and two women of “Tukara” and one woman of “Sha'e” were driven by a storm to Hiuga.  Then, three years later, the story apparently picks up again, though possibly referring to a different group of people.  On the 3rd day of the 7th month of 657, so during the second reign of Takara Hime, we now hear about two men and four women of the Land of Tukara—no mention of Sha'e—who drifted to Tsukushi, aka Kyushu.  The Chronicles mention that these wayfarers first drifted to the island of Amami, and we'll talk about that in a bit, but let's get these puzzle pieces on the table, first.  After those six people show up, the court sent for them by post-horse.  They must have arrived by the 15th of that same month, because we are told that a model of Mt. Sumi was erected and they—the people from Tukara—were entertained, although there is another account that says they were from “Tora”. The next mention is the 10th day of the 3rd month of 659, when a Man of Tukara and his wife, again woman of Sha'e, arrived.  Then, on the 16th day of the 7th month of 660, we are told that the man of Tukara, Kenzuhashi Tatsuna, desired to return home and asked for an escort.  He planned to pay his respects at the Great Country, i.e. the Tang court, and so he left his wife behind, taking tens of men with him. All of these entries might refer to people regularly reaching Yamato from the south, from a place called “Tukara”.  Alternately, this is a single event whose story has gotten distributed over several years, as we've seen happen before with the Chronicles.  .  One of the oddities of these entries is that the terms used are not consistent.  “Tukara” is spelled at least two different ways, suggesting that it wasn't a common placename like Silla or Baekje, or even the Mishihase.  That does seem to suggest that the Chronicles were phonetically trying to find kanji, or the Sinitic characters, to match with the name they were hearing.   I would also note that “Tukara” is given the status of a “kuni”—a land, country, or state—while “sha'e”, where some of the women are said to come from, is just that, “Sha'e”. As for the name of at least one person from Tokara, Kenzuhashi Tatsuna, that certainly sounds like someone trying to fit a non-Japanese name into the orthography of the time.  “Tatsuna” seems plausibly Japanese, but “Kenzuhashi” doesn't fit quite as well into the naming structures we've seen to this point. The location of “Tukara” and “Sha'e” are not clear in any way, and as such there has been a lot of speculation about them.  While today there are placenames that fit those characters, whether or not these were the places being referenced at the time is hard to say. I'll actually start with “Sha'e”, which Aston translates as Shravasti, the capital of the ancient Indian kingdom of Kosala, in modern Uttar Pradesh.  It is also where the Buddha, Siddartha Gautama, is said to have lived most of his life after his enlightenment.  In Japanese this is “Sha'e-jou”, and like many Buddhist terms it likely comes through Sanskrit to Middle Chinese to Japanese.  One—or possibly two—women from Shravasti making the journey to Yamato in the company of a man (or men) from Tukara seems quite the feat.  But then, where is “Tukara”? Well, we have at least three possible locations that I've seen bandied about.  I'll address them from the most distant to the closest option.  These three options were Tokharistan, Dvaravati, and the Tokara islands. We'll start with Tokharistan on the far end of the Silk Road.  And to start, let's define what that “Silk Road” means.  We've talked in past episodes about the “Western Regions”, past the Han-controlled territories of the Yellow River.   The ancient Tang capital of Chang'an was built near to the home of the Qin dynasty, and even today you can go and see both the Tang tombs and the tomb of Qin Shihuangdi and his terracotta warriors, all within a short distance of Xi'an, the modern city built on the site of Chang'an.  That city sits on a tributary of the Yellow River, but the main branch turns north around the border of modern Henan and the similarly sounding provinces of Shanxi and Shaanxi.  Following it upstream, the river heads north into modern Mongolia, turns west, and then heads south again, creating what is known as the Ordos loop.  Inside is the Ordos plateau, also known as the Ordos Basin.  Continuing to follow the Yellow river south, on the western edge of the Ordos, you travel through Ningxia and Gansu—home of the Hexi, or Gansu, Corridor.  That route eventually takes to Yumenguan, the Jade Gate, and Dunhuang.  From there roads head north or south along the edge of the Taklamakan desert in the Tarim basin.  The southern route travels along the edge of the Tibetan plateau, while the northern route traversed various oasis cities through Turpan, Kucha, to the city of Kashgar.  Both routes made their way across the Pamirs and the Hindu Kush into South Asia. We've brought up the Tarim Basin and the Silk Road a few times.  This is the path that Buddhism appears to have taken to get to the Yellow River Basin and eventually to the Korean Peninsula and eastward to the Japanese archipelago.  But I want to go a bit more into detail on things here, as there is an interesting side note about “Tukara” that I personally find rather fascinating, and thought this would be a fun time to share. Back in Episode 79 we talked about how the Tarim basin used to be the home to a vast inland sea, which was fed by the meltwater from the Tianshan and Kunlun mountains.  This sea eventually dwindled, though it was still large enough to be known to the Tang as the Puchang Sea.  Today it has largely dried up, and it is mostly just the salt marshes of Lop Nur that remain.  Evidence for this larger sea, however, can be observed in some of the burials found around the Tarim basin.  These burials include the use of boat-shaped structures—a rather curious feature to be found out in the middle of the desert. And it is the desert that was left behind as the waters receded that is key to much of what we know about life in the Tarim basin, as it has proven to be quite excellent at preserving organic material.  This includes bodies, which dried out and naturally turned into mummies, including not only the wool clothing they were wearing, but also features such as hair and even decoration. These “Tarim mummies”, as they have been collectively called, date from as early as 2100 BCE all the way up through the period of time we're currently talking about, and have been found in several desert sites: Xiaohe, the earliest yet discovered; Loulan, near Lop Nur on the east of the Tarim Basin, dating from around 1800 BCE; Cherchen, on the southern edge of the Tarim Basin, dating from roughly 1000 BCE; and too many others to go into in huge detail. The intriguing thing about these burials is that  many of them don't have features typically associated with people of ethnic Han—which is to say traditional Chinese—ancestry, nor do they necessarily have the features associated with the Xiongnu and other steppe nomads.  In addition they have colorful clothing  made from wool and leather, with vivid designs.  Some bodies near Hami, just east of the basin, were reported to have blonde to light brown hair, and their cloth showed radically different patterns from that found at Cherchen and Loulan, with patterns that could reasonably be compared with the plaids now common in places like Scotland and Ireland, and previously found in the Hallstadt salt mine in Central Europe from around 3500 BCE, from which it is thought the Celtic people may have originated. At the same time that people—largely Westerners— were studying these mummies, another discovery in the Tarim basin was also making waves.  This was the discovery of a brand new language.  Actually, it was two languages—or possibly two dialects of a language—in many manuscripts, preserved in Kucha and Turpan.  Once again, the dry desert conditions proved invaluable to maintain these manuscripts, which date from between the late 4th or early 5th century to the 8th century.  They are written with a Brahmic script, similar to that used for Sanskrit, which appears in the Tarim Basin l by about the 2nd century, and we were able to translate them because many of the texts were copies of Buddhist scripture, which greatly helped scholars in deciphering the languages.  These two languages were fascinating because they represented an as-yet undiscovered branch of the Indo-European language family.  Furthermore, when compared to other Indo-European languages, they did not show nearly as much similarity with their neighbors as with languages on the far western end of the Indo-European language family.  That is to say they were thought to be closer to Celtic and Italic languages than something like Indo-Iranian.  And now for a quick diversion within the diversion:  “Centum” and “Satem” are general divisions of the Indo-European language families that was once thought to indicate a geographic divide in the languages.  At its most basic, as Indo-European words changed over time, a labiovelar sound, something like “kw”,  tended to evolve in one of two ways.  In the Celtic and Italic languages, the “kw” went to a hard “k” sound, as represented in the classical pronunciation of the Latin word for 100:  Centum.  That same word, in the Avestan language—of the Indo-Iranian tree—is pronounced as “Satem”, with an “S” sound.  So, you can look at Indo-European languages and divide them generally into “centum” languages, which preserve the hard “k”, or “Satem” languages that preserve the S. With me so far? Getting back to these two newly-found languages in the Tarim Basin, the weird thing is that they were “Centum” languages. Most Centum languages are from pretty far away, though: they are generally found in western Europe or around the Mediterranean, as opposed to the Satem languages, such as Indo-Aryan, Iranian, Armernian, or even Baltic Slavic languages, which are much closer to the Tarim Basin.  So if the theory were true that the “Centum” family of Indo-European languages developed in the West and “Satem” languages developed in the East, then that would seem to indicate that a group of a “Centum” speaking people must have migrated eastward, through the various Satem speaking people, and settled in the Tarim Basin many thousands of years ago. And what evidence do we have of people who look very different from the modern population, living in the Tarim Basin area long before, and wearing clothing similar to what we associated with the progenitors of the Celts?  For many, it seemed to be somewhat obvious, if still incredible, that the speakers of this language were likely the descendants of the mummies who, in the terminology of the time, had been identified as being of Caucasoid ancestry.  A theory developed that these people were an offshoot of a group called the Yamnaya culture, which may have arisen around modern Ukraine as an admixture between the European Hunter Gatherers and the Caucasian Hunter Gatherers, around 3300-2600 BCE.  This was challenged in 2021 when a genetic study was performed on some of the mummies in the Tarim basin, as well as several from the Dzungarian basin, to the northeast.  That study suggested that the people of the Dzungarian basin had genetic ties to the people of the Afanasievo people, from Southern Siberia.  The Afanasievo people are connected to the Yamnayan culture. It should be noted that there has long been a fascination in Western anthropology and related sciences with racial identification—and often not in a healthy way.  As you may recall, the Ainu were identified as “Caucasoid” by some people largely because of things like the men's beards and lighter colored hair, which differ greatly from a large part of the Japanese population.  However, that claim has been repeatedly refuted and debunked. And similarly, the truth is, none of these Tarim mummy burials were in a period of written anything, so we can't conclusively associated them with these fascinating Indo-European languages.  There are thousands of years between the various burials and the manuscripts. These people  left no notes stashed in pockets that give us their life story.   And Language is not Genetics is not Culture.  Any group may adopt a given language for a variety of reasons.  .  Still, given what we know, it is possible that the ancient people of the Tarim basin spoke some form of “Proto-Kuchean”, but it is just as likely that this language was brought in by people from Dzungaria at some point. So why does all this matter to us?  Well, remember how we were talking about someone from Tukara?  The Kuchean language, at least, is referred to in an ancient Turkic source as belonging to “Twgry”, which led several scholars to draw a link between this and the kingdom and people called Tukara and the Tokharoi.  This leads us on another bit of a chase through history. Now if you recall, back in Episode 79, we talked about Zhang Qian.  In 128 BCE, he attempted to cross the Silk Road through the territory of the Xiongnu on a mission for the Han court.  Some fifty years earlier, the Xiongnu had defeated the Yuezhi.  They held territory in the oasis towns along the north of the Taklamakan dessert, from about the Turpan basin west to the Pamirs. The Xiongnu were causing problems for the Han, who thought that if they could contact the remaining Yuezhi they could make common cause with them and harass the Xiongnu from both sides.  Zhang Qian's story is quite remarkable: he started out with an escort of some 99 men and a translator.  Unfortunately, he was captured and enslaved by the Xiongnu during his journey, and he is even said to have had a wife and fathered a child.  He remained a captive for thirteen years, but nonetheless, he was able to escape with his family and he made it to the Great Yuezhi on the far side of the Pamirs, but apparently the Yuezhi weren't interested in a treaty against the Xiongnu.  The Pamirs were apparently enough of a barrier and they were thriving in their new land.  And so Zhang Qian crossed back again through Xiongnu territory, this time taking the southern route around the Tarim basin.  He was still captured by the Xiongnu, who spared his life.  He escaped, again, two years later, returning to the Han court.  Of the original 100 explorers, only two returned: Zhang Qian and his translator.  While he hadn't obtained an alliance, he was able to detail the cultures of the area of the Yuezhi. Many feel that the Kushan Empire, which is generally said to have existed from about 30 to 375 CE,was formed from the Kushana people who were part of the Yuezhi who fled the Xiongnu. In other words, they were originally from further north, around the Tarim Basin, and had been chased out and settled down in regions that included Bactria (as in the Bactrian camel).  Zhang Qian describes reaching the Dayuan Kingdom in the Ferghana valley, then traveling south to an area that was the home of the Great Yuezhi or Da Yuezhi.  And after the Kushan empire fell, we know there was a state in the upper regions of the Oxus river, centered on the city of Balkh, in the former territory of the Kushan empire. known as “Tokara”.  Geographically, this matches up how Zhang Qian described the home of the Da Yuezhi.  Furthermore, some scholars reconstruct the reading of the Sinic characters used for “Yuezhi” as originally having an optional reading of something like “Togwar”, but that is certainly not the most common reconstructed reading of those characters.  Greek sources describe this area as the home of the Tokharoi, or the Tokaran People.  The term “Tukhara” is also found in Sanskrit, and this kingdom  was also said to have sent ambassadors to the Southern Liang and Tang dynasties. We aren't exactly certain of where these Tokharan people came from, but as we've just described, there's a prevailing theory that they were the remnants of the Yuezhi and Kushana people originally from the Tarim Basin.  We know that in the 6th century they came under the rule of the Gokturk Khaganate, which once spanned from the Liao river basin to the Black Sea.  In the 7th and 8th centuries they came under the rule of the Tang Empire, where they were known by very similar characters as those used to write “Tukara” in the Nihon Shoki.  On top of this, we see Tokharans traveling the Silk Road, all the way to the Tang court.  Furthermore, Tokharans that settled in Chang'an took the surname “Zhi” from the ethnonym “Yuezhi”, seemingly laying claim to and giving validation to the identity used back in the Han dynasty.   So, we have a Turkic record describing the Kuchean people (as in, from Kucha in the Tarim Basin) as “Twgry”, and we have a kingdom in Bactria called Tokara and populated (according to the Greeks) by people called Tokharoi.  You can see how this one term has been a fascinating rabbit hole in the study of the Silk Roads and their history.  And some scholars understandably suggested that perhaps the Indo-European languags found in Kucha and Turpan  were actually related to this “Tokhara” – and therefore  should be called “Tocharian”, specifically Tocharian A (Kuchean) or Tocharian B (Turfanian). The problem is that if the Tokharans were speaking “Tocharian” then you wouldn't expect to just see it at Kucha and Turpan, which are about the middle of the road between Tokhara and the Tang dynasty, and which had long been under Gokturk rule.  You would also expect to see it in the areas of Bactria associated with Tokhara.  However, that isn't what we see.  Instead, we see that Bactria was the home of local Bactrian language—an Eastern Iranian language, which, though it is part of the Indo European language family, it is not closely related to Tocharian as far as we can tell. It is possible that the people of Kucha referred to themselves as something similar to “Twgry”, or “Tochari”, but we should also remember that comes from a Turkic source, and it could have been an exonym not related to what they called themselves.  I should also note that language is not people.  It is also possible that a particular ethnonym was maintained separately by two groups that may have been connected politically but which came to speak different languages for whatever reason.   There could be a connection between the names, or it could even be that the same or similar exonym was used for different groups. So, that was a lot and a bit of a ramble, but a lot of things that I find interesting—even if they aren't as connected as they may appear.  We have the Tarim mummies, which are, today, held at a museum in modern Urumqi.  Whether they had any connection with Europe or not, they remain a fascinating study for the wealth of material items found in and around the Tarim basin and similar locations.  And then there is the saga of the Tocharian languages—or perhaps more appropriately the Kuchean-Turfanian languages: Indo-European languages that seem to be well outside of where we would expect to find them. Finally, just past the Pamirs, we get to the land of Tokhara or Tokharistan.  Even without anything else, we know that they had contact with the court.  Perhaps our castaways were from this land?  The name is certainly similar to what we see in the Nihon Shoki, using some of the same characters. All in all, art and other information suggest that the area of the Tarim basin and the Silk Road in general were quite cosmopolitan, with many different people from different regions of the world.  Bactria retained Hellenic influences ever since the conquests of Alexander of Macedonia, aka Alexander the Great, and Sogdian and Persian traders regularly brought their caravans through the region to trade.  And once the Tang dynasty controlled all of the routes, that just made travel that much easier, and many people traveled back and forth. So from that perspective, it is possible that one or more people from Tukhara may have made the crossing from their home all the way to the Tang court, but if they did so, the question still remains: why would they be in a boat? Utilizing overland routes, they would have hit Chang'an or Louyang, the dual capitals of the Tang empire, well before they hit the ocean.  However, the Nihon Shoki says that these voyagers first came ashore at Amami and then later says that they were trying to get to the Tang court. Now there was another “Silk Road” that isn't as often mentioned: the sea route, following the coast of south Asia, around through the Malacca strait and north along the Asian coast.  This route is sometimes viewed more in terms of the “spice” road If these voyagers set out to get to the Tang court by boat, they would have to have traveled south to the Indian Ocean—possibly traveling through Shravasti or Sha'e, depending on the route they chose to take—and then around the Malacca strait—unless they made it on foot all the way to Southeast Asia.  And then they would have taken a boat up the coast. Why do that instead of taking the overland route?  They could likely have traveled directly to the Tang court over the overland silk road.  Even the from Southeast Asia could have traveled up through Yunnan and made their way to the Tang court that way.  In fact, Zhang Qian had wondered something similar when he made it to the site of the new home of the Yuezhi, in Bactria.  Even then, in the 2nd century, he saw products in the marketplace that he identified as coming from around Szechuan.  That would mean south of the Han dynasty, and he couldn't figure out how those trade routes might exist and they weren't already known to the court.  Merchants would have had to traverse the dangerous mountains if they wanted to avoid being caught by the Xiongnu, who controlled the entire region. After returning to the Han court, Zhang Qian actually went out on another expedition to the south, trying to find the southern trade routes, but apparently was not able to do so.  That said, we do see, in later centuries, the trade routes open up between the area of the Sichuan basin and South Asia.  We also see the migrations of people further south, and there may have even been some Roman merchants who traveled up this route to find their way to the Han court, though those accounts are not without their own controversy. In either case, whether by land or sea, these trade routes were not always open.  In some cases, seasonal weather, such as monsoons, might dictate movement back and forth, while political realities were also a factor.  Still, it is worth remembering that even though most people were largely concerned with affairs in their own backyard, the world was still more connected than people give it credit for.  Tang dynasty pottery made its way to the east coast of Africa, and ostriches were brought all the way to Chang'an. As for the travelers from Tukhara and why they would take this long and very round-about method of travel, it is possible that they were just explorers, seeking new routes, or even on some kind of pilgrimage.  Either way, they would have been way off course. But if they did pass through Southeast Asia, that would match up with another theory about what “Tukara” meant: that it actually refers to the Dvaravati kingdom in what is now modern Thailand.  The Dvaravati Kingdom was a Mon political entity that rose up around the 6th century.  It even sent embassies to the Sui and Tang courts.  This is even before the temple complexes in Siem Reap, such as Preah Ko and the more famous Angkor Wat.  And it was during this time that the ethnic Tai people are thought to have started migrating south from Yunnan, possibly due to pressures from the expanding Sui and Tang empires.  Today, most of what remains of the Dvaravati kingdom are the ruins of ancient stone temples, showing a heavy Indic influence, and even early Buddhist practices as well.  “Dvaravati” may not actually be the name of the kingdom but it comes from an inscription on a coin found from about that time.  The Chinese refer to it as  “To-lo-po-ti” in contemporary records.  It may not even have been a kingdom, but  more of a confederation of city-states—it is hard to piece everything together.  That it was well connected, though, is clear from the archaeological record.  In Dvaravati sites, we see coins from as far as Rome, and we even have a lamp found in modern Pong Tuk that appears to match similar examples from the Byzantine Empire in the 6th century.  Note that this doesn't mean it arrived in the 6th century—similarly with the coins—but the Dvaravati state lasted until the 12th century. If that was the case, perhaps there were some women from a place called “Shravasti” or similar, especially given the Indic influence in the region. Now, given the location of the Dvaravati, it wouldn't be so farfetched to think that someone might sail up from the Gulf of Thailand and end up off-course, though it does mean sailing up the entire Ryukyuan chain or really running off course and finding yourself adrift on the East China sea.  And if they were headed to the Tang court, perhaps they did have translators or knew Chinese, since Yamato was unlikely to know the Mon language of Dvaravati and people from Dvaravati probably wouldn't know the Japonic language.  Unless, perhaps, they were communicating through Buddhist priests via Sanskrit. We've now heard two possibilities for Tukara, both pretty far afield: the region of Tokara in Bactria, and the Dvaravati kingdom in Southeast Asia.  That said, the third and simplest explanation—and the one favored by Aston in his translation of the Nihon Shoki—is that Tukara is actually referring to a place in the Ryukyu island chain.  Specifically, there is a “Tokara” archipelago, which spans between Yakushima and Amami-Oshima.  This is part of the Nansei islands, and the closest part of the Ryukyuan island chain to the main Japanese archipelago.  This is the most likely theory, and could account for the entry talking about Amami.  It is easy to see how sailors could end up adrift, too far north, and come to shore in Hyuga, aka Himuka, on the east side of Kyushu.  It certainly would make more sense for them to be from this area of the Ryukyuan archipelago than from anywhere else.  From Yakushima to Amami-Oshima is the closest part of the island chain to Kyushu, and as we see in the entry from the Shoku Nihongi, those three places seem to have been connected as being near to Japan.  So what was going on down there, anyway? Well, first off, let's remember that the Ryukyuan archipelago is not just the island of Okinawa, but a series of islands that go from Kyushu all the way to the island of Taiwan.  Geographically speaking, they are all part of the same volcanic ridge extending southward.  The size of the islands and their distance from each other does vary, however, creating some natural barriers in the form of large stretches of open water, which have shaped how various groups developed on the islands. Humans came to the islands around the same time they were reaching the Japanese mainland.  In fact, some of our only early skeletal remains for early humans in Japan actually come from either the Ryukyuan peninsula in the south or around Hokkaido to the north, and that has to do with the acidity of the soil in much of mainland Japan. Based on genetic studies, we know that at least two groups appear to have inhabited the islands from early times.  One group appears to be related to the Jomon people of Japan, while the other appears to be more related to the indigenous people of Taiwan, who, themselves, appear to have been the ancestors of many Austronesian people.  Just as some groups followed islands to the south of Taiwan, some appear to have headed north.  However, they only made it so far.  As far as I know there is no evidence they made it past Miyakoshima, the northernmost island in the Sakishima islands.  Miyako island is separated from the next large island, Okinawa, by a large strait, known as the Miyako Strait, though sometimes called the Kerama gap in English.  It is a 250km wide stretch of open ocean, which is quite the distance for anyone to travel, even for Austronesian people of Taiwan, who had likely not developed the extraordinary navigational technologies that the people who would become the Pacific Islanders would discover. People on the Ryukyu island chain appear to have been in contact with the people of the Japanese archipelago since at least the Jomon period, and some of the material artifacts demonstrate a cultural connection.  That was likely impacted by the Akahoya eruption, about 3500 years ago, and then re-established at a later date.  We certainly see sea shells and corals trade to the people of the Japanese islands from fairly early on. Unlike the people on the Japanese archipelago, the people of the Ryukyuan archipelago did not really adopt the Yayoi and later Kofun culture.  They weren't building large, mounded tombs, and they retained the character of a hunter-gatherer society, rather than transitioning to a largely agricultural way of life.  The pottery does change in parts of Okinawa, which makes sense given the connections between the regions.  Unfortunately, there is a lot we don't know about life in the islands around this time.  We don't exactly have written records, other than things like the entries in the Nihon Shoki, and those are hardly the most detailed of accounts.  In the reign of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennou, we see people from Yakushima, which is, along with Tanegashima, one of the largest islands at the northern end of the Ryukyu chain, just before you hit Kagoshima and the Osumi peninsula on the southern tip of Kyushu.  The islands past that would be the Tokara islands, until you hit the large island of Amami. So you can see how it would make sense that the people from “Tokara” would make sense to be from the area between Yakushima and Amami, and in many ways this explanation seems too good to be true.  There are a only a few things that make this a bit peculiar. First, this doesn't really explain the woman from “Sha'e” in any compelling way that I can see.  Second, the name, Kenzuhashi Tatsuna doesn't seem to fit with what we generally know about early Japonic names, and the modern Ryukyuan language certainly is a Japonic language, but there are still plenty of possible explanations.  There is also the connection of Tokara with “Tokan”, which is mentioned in an entry in 699 in the Shoku Nihongi, the Chronicle that follows on, quite literally to the Nihon Shoki.  Why would they call it “Tokan” instead of “Tokara” so soon after?  Also, why would these voyagers go back to their country by way of the Tang court?  Unless, of course, that is where they were headed in the first place.  In which case, did the Man from Tukara intentionally leave his wife in Yamato, or was she something of a hostage while they continued on their mission?   And so those are the theories.  The man from “Tukara” could be from Tokhara, or Tokharistan, at the far end of the Silk Road.  Or it could have been referring to the Dvaravati Kingdom, in modern Thailand.  Still, in the end, Occam's razor suggests that the simplest answer is that these were actually individuals from the Tokara islands in the Ryukyuan archipelago.  It is possible that they were from Amami, not that they drifted there.  More likely, a group from Amami drifted ashore in Kyushu as they were trying to find a route to the Tang court, as they claimed.  Instead they found themselves taking a detour to the court of Yamato, instead. And we could have stuck with that story, but I thought that maybe, just maybe, this would be a good time to reflect once again on how connected everything was.  Because even if they weren't from Dvaravati, that Kingdom was still trading with Rome and with the Tang.  And the Tang controlled the majority of the overland silk road through the Tarim basin.  We even know that someone from Tukhara made it to Chang'an, because they were mentioned on a stele that talked about an Asian sect of Christianity, the “Shining Religion”, that was praised and allowed to set up shop in the Tang capital, along with Persian Manicheans and Zoroastrians.  Regardless of where these specific people may have been from, the world was clearly growing only more connected, and prospering, as well. Next episode we'll continue to look at how things were faring between the archipelago and the continent. 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.  

Send us a textIn Episode 44 we travel to the southwest of Japan's main island of Honshu and onto Tottori Prefecture to speak with Richard Pearce of Sustainable Daisen – an NPO dedicated to the conservation of the Japanese Giant Salamander and the habitat it is reliant upon. Originally from the United Kingdom, Richard founded and operates Sustainable with his wife and with the support of others in advocating for, researching and educating the public about the plight of the salamander. One of the largest amphibians in the world and relatively unchanged for 23 million years, the Japanese Giant Salamander is under serious threat due to impact of human action. Sustainable Daisen is endeavouring to address that while there is still time.Richard was an engaging guest with plenty to say about the issues he cares about. In an effort not to edit too much out of our conversation, this episode is split into two parts. In this – the first half of our chat – you'll hear Richard an I discuss the Japanese Giant Salamander and the work he is doing to converse both the animal and its habitat, while increasing public awareness. In the second half of the interview – available in a week's time – Richard and I continue onto a broader discussion about environmental and wildlife advocacy in Japan and the challenges of doing so as a foreign voice. I hope that my conversation with Richard sparks your interest in what he and Sustainable Daisen are doing and that he and the salamanders act as ambassadors (of sorts) for Tottori, and entice you to visit. For more information, visit Sustainable Daisen's website and follow them on Instagram and Facebook. You can also learn more about experiences led by Richard on his Bushido Japan website. I hope you enjoy!Outland Japan is a bi-weekly podcast hosted by Peter Carnell - a freelance tour guide based in northern Nagano – that transports you to rural, regional and the wilds of Japan in pursuit of stories that lie outside the neon hum of Tokyo and golden trimmings of Kyoto. Stories of travel, life and culture beyond the big cities. Follow the show on Instagram, Facebook and YouTube. Please note, prior to October 2024, Outland Japan was named Snow Country Stories Japan.

In part three of our epic road trip through Northern Honshu, Japan, we journey deep into the spiritual heart of Yamagata Prefecture to explore the sacred Dewa Sanzan. This trio of holy mountains—Haguro, Gassan, and Yudono—offers a profound glimpse into Japan's ancient Shugendo traditions. Our focus is on Mt. Haguro, the “Mountain of the Present,” where we climb the iconic 2,446 stone steps lined with towering cedar trees and discover the breathtaking five-story pagoda, a symbol of the region's rich heritage. At the summit, we visit the Sanjingosaiden Shrine, a holy space that unites the three mountain deities. This part of the journey is both physically invigorating and spiritually rewarding, immersing travelers in the serene beauty and deep cultural significance of Japan's ancient pilgrimage routes. After our adventure at Dewa Sanzan, we unwind at Yūsuitei Isagoya, a luxurious ryokan in Yamagata. Nestled near the coast, this traditional inn offers a rejuvenating onsen experience with stunning views of the Sea of Japan. We savor a multi-course kaiseki dinner featuring fresh, seasonal ingredients unique to the region, paired with impeccable hospitality. This stop is the perfect balance of relaxation and indulgence, offering a taste of authentic Japanese luxury. Tune in to hear more about this unforgettable leg of our road trip, including tips for navigating the 2,446 stone steps of Mt. Haguro and making the most of your stay at Yūsuitei Isagoya. For more behind the scenes this and all of our explorations in Japan, be sure to check out our Destinations and Japan pages.

In this episode of Pure Life Podcast, we dive into part two of our unforgettable Northern Honshu Road Trip in Japan, this time exploring the cultural and scenic wonders of Yamagata Prefecture. Our journey begins at the breathtaking Yamadera Temple, a mountaintop complex with awe-inspiring views and serene hiking trails that make the climb well worth the effort. From the tranquil beauty of this ancient temple to the surrounding lush landscapes, we share why Yamadera is a must-visit for anyone seeking a spiritual and immersive Japanese experience. Next on this epic Northern Honshu Road Trip, we head to the enchanting Ginzan Onsen, a picturesque town straight out of Japan's Edo period. With its charming riverfront lined by traditional inns and shops, this hidden gem transports you to a bygone era. We also share highlights from our stay at the iconic Notoya Ryokan, including a humorous mishap in the onsen that's sure to make you smile. If you're looking for an off-the-beaten-path adventure filled with culture, history, and unforgettable moments, tune in for this episode packed with tips and insights to help you plan your own Yamagata getaway! For more behind the scenes this and all of our explorations in Japan, be sure to check out our Destinations and Japan pages.

In this episode of Pure Life Podcast, join us as we kick off an unforgettable northern Honshu road trip exploring the scenic beauty and cultural treasures of northern Japan. Starting with our arrival at Haneda Airport, we unwind at the luxurious Hilton Tokyo Odaiba, enjoying stunning views of Tokyo Bay. From there, we hit the road to discover the Edo-period charm of Ouchijuku during its vibrant summer festival, complete with traditional thatched-roof houses and lively local celebrations. Next, we delve into the rich history of Aizuwakamatsu, where the iconic Tsuruga Castle awaits, offering fascinating insights into Japan's samurai heritage. The day concludes in true Japanese style with a stay at a traditional ryokan, where we relax in soothing onsen and savor a multi-course kaiseki dinner. Whether you've dreamed of visiting Japan or want to uncover its more traditional side, this episode is your gateway to exploring the lesser-traveled gems of this incredible country. With breathtaking landscapes, cultural experiences, and plenty of travel tips, this is part one of a must-listen series that will inspire your next Japanese adventure. Don't miss out! For more behind the scenes this and all of our explorations in Japan, be sure to check out our Destinations and Japan pages.

This is the second of two episodes talking about the people in the north of the Japanese archipelago:  The Emishi and the Mishihase.  Last episode we covered things from an archaeological overview, looking at the traces of the Epi-Jomon, Satsumon, and Okhotsk Sea cultures.  This episode focuses more on what was actually written in the Nihon Shoki, including a journey to introduce Emishi to the Tang Emperor himself! For more information, check out our podcast blog at: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-117   Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 117: The People of the North, Part 2 Abe no Hirafu gazed out at the sea, waiting for his opponents to appear.  He had traveled with a fleet to the far north, into a land that was unlike anything that most of his men had ever seen.  They were far away from the rice fields of their home villages.  Up here, the people made their way by hunting and fishing, and the land was much more wild.  Besides the people, the land was also home to giant bears, much larger than anything back in the Home Provinces.  Giant beasts with paws the size of a man's head.  They were truly incredible, but they were not his target this time. As he watched the waves, he saw his prey emerge.  They rowed their ships around the cape, coming out from the defensive position they had previously established.  Where Hirafu's men flew banners made of silk, his opponents had created flags made of feathers, which they hoisted high in their boats.  They were small in number, but they knew this land and these waters.  They were comfortable traveling in the cold and unforgiving seas, and they no doubt had reinforcements.  Hirafu may have had the upper hand, but he knew he couldn't get too cocky. It was probably too much to hope for that the size of his fleet alone would cause them to submit.  If they could be bought off, then perhaps that was best, but Hirafu knew that was probably unlikely.  This was going to be a fight, and Hirafu and his men were ready for it. Before we jump into the episode proper, a quick thank you to Hakucho for donating to support Sengoku Daimyo.  We always appreciate any support, and there is information at the end of each episode on how to help out if you would like to join them. Last episode we introduced the Emishi and the Mishihase and talked about them and their connections to the Yamato and Japanese state, as well as to the modern Ainu people.  We went over a lot of the archaeological findings, and talked about how the Jomon period, uninterrupted in northern Honshu and Hokkaido, eventually gave way to the Epi-Jomon and Satsumon cultures, while the Ohokotsk Sea Culture is observed from around the 5th to 9th centuries, and we talked about how these existed in the lands we know as being connected to the Emishi and the Mishihase people mentioned in the Chronicles. This episode we are going to rely a lot more on the narrative found in the Nihon Shoki, but I wanted to make sure that we had that discussion about the archaeology, first, so that people would have a background.  If you haven't already done so, I highly recommend going back and giving Part 1 a listen. So let's back up a bit, and let's set the scene on the peninsula and the archipelago, and see what led up to this moment. In 654, the sovereign of Yamato, Karu, aka Kotoku Tennou, had passed away in his palace in Naniwa.  His sister, Takara Hime, and other members of the royal family had gathered once more in Naniwa when they caught word of his illness, but their visit was brief.  Karu passed away on the 1st day of the 10th month, and a little over two months later he was buried.  After that, rather than taking up residence again in Naniwa, the court moved back to the old capital of Asuka, where Takara Hime re-ascended the throne.  It was now the year 655, almost a decade since Crown Prince Naka no Oe had orchestrated the murderous coup that had seen the powerful scions of the Soga family cut down in front of Takara Hime and others, causing her to abdicate.  And now, well, perhaps Naka no Oe was comfortable controlling things from behind the scenes, because Takara Hime was once again the one in power—or at least the one sitting on the throne.  And there's a LOT that would go on during this reign according to the chronicles. On the peninsula at this point, the Tang-Goguryeo war was in full swing, with the Tang dynasty regularly harassing Goguryeo.  Goguryeo was at least nominally allied with Baekje, whose ruling family also claimed descent from a shared Buyeo ancestor, and Baekje was, of course, a long time ally of Yamato.  Meanwhile, Silla had thrown their lot in with the Tang dynasty, though as alliances went it was not exactly an alliance of equals – and most alliances came and went as the political winds changed throughout the peninsula. Over time, we'll see some resolution coming to the situation on the peninsula.  But overall, one of the biggest trends is that during Takara Hime's second reign, Yamato was reaching out to a much wider world than it had in the past.  This included connections to the south—to those on the Ryukyu islands, and possibly beyond.  And there were continued efforts to reach out to the Tang empire, with varying degrees of success.  Those that did go would sit and learn at the feet of some of the most famous scholars in the world, including the Buddhist priest, scholar, and traveler, Xuanzang, someone I cannot wait to get into in a future episode, as he really demonstrates just how connected the world had become at this time in a way that is often hard for us to comprehend, today. But there is also plenty happening in the archipelago, and even just in Asuka.  In fact, regardless of what the Chronicles say, there are a lot of ancient monuments and archaeological finds in the Asuka region that aren't directly mentioned in any historical record, but can be generally traced to this era - reminders of this period that are literally carved in stone.  We still have plenty of questions as to just what was going on, but we're starting to see more and more lasting physical traces. Our first relevant entry in the Nihon Shoki for the topic of this episode comes from the 7th month of 655, the year that Takara Hime had taken the throne.  We are told that 99 Northern Emishi and 99 Eastern Emishi were entertained at the court of Naniwa—presumably using the government facilities built during Karu's time.  At the same time, there were 150 envoys from Baekje who were likewise feted.  Caps of honor, of two grades in each case, were bestowed on nine Emishi of Kikafu and six Emishi of Tsugaru.  This is an interesting record, and let's explore what it means for Yamato's view of itself and its own authority.  First, the Baekje and the Emishi are being streated similarly—they both appear to be groups that are from *outside* Yamato conducting some kind of diplomacy with the court.  That said, it is quite clear from the way that the Chronicles deal with them that Yamato viewed each group as distinctly different.  Baekje was Yamato's continental ally, and their primary means through which they could access the continent and all that it had to offer.  They had helped bring Buddhism to the archipelago, and were clearly seen as a civilized country.  The Emishi, on the other hand, were Yamato's own “barbarians”.  They were outside and Yamato clearly saw them as less civilized.  In many ways Yamato viewed the Emishi similar to how the Tang court likely viewed Yamato.  After all, just as Tang literature talked about the differences between the quote-unquote “civilized” center of the empire and the so-called “barbaric” lands beyond their borders, Yamato could place itself in a similar position, simply by placing the Nara Basin at the “Center” and with the Emishi helping define that which was outside.  So in an odd way, this may have been uplifting for Yamato's own self-image. And just as the Tang court enticed border states into their sphere of influence with the promise of imperial titles, the Yamato court similarly was bestowing rank upon the Emishi, making themselves the granter of prestige and recognition.  By being a part of the system, you were rewarded with recognition of your status, something that likely appealed to many. As to the places referenced – Kikafu and Tsugaru – Aston isn't certain about Kikafu, but Tsugaru seems quite obvious as the northernmost tip of Honshu, in modern Aomori prefecture, where the islands of Honshu and Hokkaido are separated by none other than the Tsugaru strait. The fact that the Chroniclers differentiated between the Eastern and Northern Emishi likewise suggests that this was not a monolithic state.  Yamato saw a difference between the Emishi in one part of the archipelago versus the other. Three years later, in the 4th month of 658, Yamato sent one of the largest expeditions against the northeast.  Abe no Omi—other entries name him as Abe no Omi no Hirafu—took 180 ships up north on an expedition to the Emishi.  We are told that he met with the Emishi in the districts of Aita and Nushiro, believed to be in modern Akita prefecture.  Akita prefecture is on the western side of Tohoku, towards the very northern tip.  It is opposite Iwate prefecture on the east, and just below Aomori prefecture, which, at the time, was known as Tsugaru.  This was on the extreme end of Honshu. Both Aita and Nushiro quickly submitted to the Yamato mission.  Still, Abe drew up his ships in order of battle in the bay of Aita, where an envoy from the Emishi named Omuka came forward and made an oath.  He swore that they had no ill-intentions.  The fact that the Emishi were armed with bows and arrows was not because they were at war, but because up in that area of Tohoku, they were all hunters, and so it was their regular tool.  They swore to the gods of Aita bay that they had not raised arms against Yamato, but they were willing to submit to Yamato rule. For his part, Omuka was granted court rank, and local governors were established at Nushiro and Tsugaru—likely meaning they recognized local chieftains and made them responsible for representing the others.  Finally, they summoned the Emishi of Watari no Shima to the shores of Arima, and a great feast was provided.  After that, they all returned home. The  term “Watari no Shima” seems to almost undoubtedly refer to the island of Hokkaido.  “Watari” means to cross, so referring to the “Emishi of Watari no Shima” likely referred to the Emishi on Hokkaido vice those in the Tohoku region. The entire entry seems a bit suspect.  Abe no Hirafu takes an armed party up north and then they all… just sit down and have tea together?  There seems to be a lot of missing context.  Of course, from Yamato's perspective, they were the civilized center.  Does that mean that any violence they committed was simply swept under the rug of history?  Or did they truly meet with such quick submission that only a show of force was necessary? There is one other entry for 658, relative to all of this. It isn't given a specific date, so it is unclear when, exactly it occurred, but it may shed some light.  That entry states that Abe no Hikida no Omi no Hirafu, warden of the land of Koshi, went on an expedition not against the Emishi, but against the Mishihase, or Su-shen.  He is said to have brought back from this trip two live “white bears”, or “shiguma”. So was his expedition really against the Emishi, or was his actual goal to fight the Mishihase, which means he didn't just stop at the end of Honshu, but he continued on to Hokkaido—Watari no Shima—and up at least to Central Hokkaido, where he would have met with the people of the Okhotsk Sea culture—likely the Mishihase of the Chronicle?  Or was he sailing against both? This also leads to numerous other theories as to just what was going on.  While Yamato was pushing on the Emishi from the south, were these Mishihase likewise encroaching on the Emishi in the north?  Were they pushing them south or absorbing those in the farthest north?  There seems to have clearly been a difference and some conflict between them, as evidenced by later entries, which we'll cover in a bit. Quickly, though, I do want to touch on the idea that they brought back two “white bears”.  “Shiguma” appears to refer to a “white bear”, and at its most simplistic understanding, this would seem to refer to a polar bear, but that seems quite a stretch.  Today, polar bears largely live in the arctic regions, out on the permanent sea ice, where they are able to hunt.  They are considered an aquatic animal, living mainly in the ocean, though they will come ashore to hunt, on occasion.  Still, they are mostly adapted to life on the sea ice. While the climate of the 700s was different, I don't know that the sea ice extended that far south.  It is possible that polar bears had been captured much further north, and then sold to people further south, through the extensive trade networks that ran up through Kamchatka, Siberia, and even across the Aleutian chain, but as far as I can tell, polar bears would not have been living in Hokkaido or even in the Kuril or Sakhalin islands at that time. It is much more likely that the “Shiguma” was one of the Hokkaido brown bears.   They may have been albino, but more likely it was simply an easy designation to distinguish them from the bears of the rest of the archipelago—the Asian black bear.  These are clearly black bears, though their fur can appear lighter in some instances.  Meanwhile, although brown bears can be a very dark brown, their fur can vary to almost a blond, and if you look at many photos you can see how they might be considered “white”, especially compared to the black bear that was the norm in Yamato.  I suspect that this is actually the species that Hirafu brought back, and which would be referenced in later entries, where “shiguma” furs appear to be have been quite plentiful, suggesting it wasn't just a rare mutation. In addition, I can't help but note that the presence of bears, here, seems to also further connect with modern traditions of the Ainu of Hokkaido.  Most notably in their reverence for bears, including the traditional Iyomante ceremony.  There is also evidence of the importance of bears in what we see of the Okhotsk Sea Culture.  It is hard to tell if there is more from this interaction, but it still raises some questions. But I digress.  While there are still a lot of gaps, we can see that the Emishi were being brought into the fold, as it were, while the Mishihase were apparently the threat that Yamato would be fighting.  In fact, I can't help but wonder if the threat posed by the Mishihase didn't help encourage the Emishi to ally themselves with Yamato in an attempt to protect themselves. Whatever happened, the relationship with the Emishi, from that point, seems to place them as subjects of Yamato.  We are told that three months later, over 200 Emishi visited the Yamato court, bringing presents for the sovereign.  These were not just the Emishi of the far reaches of Tohoku, but seems to have included Emishi from several different regions.  We are also told that the entertainment and largess provided by the court was even greater than any time before, no doubt presenting the carrot in contrast to Abe no Hirafu's stick. One of the carrots handed out was court rank,  We are told that two Emishi of the enigmatic Kikafu region each received one grade of rank while Saniguma, the Senior governor of Nushiro, was granted two steps in rank, making him Lower Shou-otsu in the rank system of the time, and he was given the superintendence of the population register—likely meaning he had a charge similar to the other governors dispatched to take a census and let the court know just how many people there were in the region.  His junior governor, Ubasa, received the rank of Kembu, the lowest rank in the system. Meanwhile, Mamu, the Senior governor of Tsugaru was granted the rank of Upper Dai-otsu and Awohiru, the Junior governor of Tsugaru, was granted the rank of Lower Shou-out. At the same time, two ranks were granted on the Miyatsuko of the Tsukisara Barrier and one rank was granted to Inadzumi Ohotomo no Kimi, Miyatsuko of the Nutari Barrier.  These last two appear to have been members of Yamato rather than Emishi, but clearly all related to the issue of the borders and beyond. And so we are given three different locations.  We are not told the names of the Emishi from Kikafu, but we are given the names of the senior and junior governors—likely local chieftains co-opted into the Yamato polity—of Nushiro and Tsugaru.  Together with the name “Omuka” we have some of our earliest attestations to possible Emishi names—though whether these were names, titles, or something else I could not say.  We have Saniguma, Ubasa, Mamu, and Awohiru.  None of these are given with family names, which seems to track with the fact that formal “family” names appear to have been an innovation of the Kofun culture, rather than an indigenous phenomenon. I would also note that I am not sure if these ranks came with any kind of stipend: after all, much of that region wasn't exactly suited to rice-land, so where would the stipend come from?  That said, there were certainly more practical gifts that were laid out for them as well.  The governors of Nushiro and the governors of Tsugaru were each given 20 cuttle-fish flags—likely a banner similar to the koi nobori, or carp banners, in use today—as well as two drums, two sets of bows and arrows, and two suits of armor.  This seems to be one for the Senior and one for the Junior governor.  In addition, Saniguma was commanded to “investigate” the Emishi population as well as what Aston translates as the “captive” population—by which I suspect they mean those living in bondage within the Emishi communities.   It is interesting to me that even though the senior governor of Tsugaru was given a higher rank, this last duty was only given to the governor of Nushiro. And there you have it.  With all of that the Emishi were at least nominally subject to the Yamato court.  They were still, however, cultural outsiders.  It is quite likely that they spoke a different language, and given the number of placenames in Tohoku that seem to correspond with the modern Ainu language, it is quite likely that a language at least related to modern Ainu was spoken in the Emishi controlled areas. A similar pattern to the year 658 took place in the entries for the following year.  Once again, Abe no Hirafu went north with 180 ships on what we are told, at least in Aston's translation, was an expedition against the Emishi.  He assembled a selection of the Emishi of Akita and Nushiro, totaling 241 people, with 31 of their captives, as well as 112 Emishi of Tsugaru with 4 of their captives, and 20 Emishi of Ifurisahe.  Once he had them all at his mercy he then… feasted them and gave them presents.  Is this really what an expedition *against* the Emishi looked like?  It almost sounds more like a diplomatic mission. We are told that after feasting and giving the assembled Emishi presents, Abe no Hirafu made an offering to the local gods of a boat and silk of various colors. He then proceeded to a place called “Shishiriko”, where two Emishi from a place called Tohiu, named Ikashima and Uhona, came forward and told him that Yamato should create an outpost at Shiribeshi, on the west coast of Hokkaido, which would be the seat of local Yamato government.  This sounds not entirely dissimilar from the idea of the Dazai in Kyushu.  Abe no Hirafu agreed and established a district governor there. Relevant to this, between the 7th and 8th centuries, we see clusters of pit dwellings in Hokkaido largely in the areas corresponding to the modern sub-prefectures of Sorachi, Ishikari, and Iburi, with many of them clustered near modern Sapporo, and a very small number near Rumoi, further north along the western coast. Once more it is another account, not the main narrative of the Nihon Shoki, where we might see what was really going on.  That entry claims that Abe no Hirafu went north to fight with the Mishihase and, on his return, he brought back some 49 captives.  So was this what all of this was really about?  Was he going up there to fight the Emishi, or was he perhaps fighting with the Emishi against the Mishihase? When Abe no Hirafu finally returned, it seems that the provincial governors of Michinoku—pretty much the whole of Touhoku—and Koshi, which was also a land known for being home to Emishi, were granted two grades of rank.  Their subordinates, the district governors and administrators, each received one grade of rank. We are also told that on the 17th day of the 3rd month of 659, that a copy of Mt. Meru was constructed on the riverbank east of Amakashi no Oka and that Emishi of Michonoku and Koshi were both entertained there.  Little more is given, and, again, it isn't clear if this is before or after Hirafu's expedition of that year. Mt. Meru—read as Shumisen, today—is the mountain at the center of the world, according to some Buddhist traditions.  Building a copy would have been a statement, creating a copy of the mountain and bringing the center of the universe to you.  This was probably a feature in a garden—at least that is how it was conceived of during the reign of Kashikiya Hime.  This second one may have been made with a pile of stones, and there have even been found some features in Asuka that some think could be remnants of this ancient model of the universe, but they aren't without controversy. In any case, that same year that the Emishi were brought to Asuka to view this Buddhist monument, in 659, a mission was sent to the Tang court.  We'll talk about the mission at some other time, but for now I want to focus on the fact that they brought with them an Emishi man and a woman to show the Tang emperor.  Regrettably, we don't know their names, and we don't know their status in Emishi society.  Were these captives, possibly enslaved?  Or were these volunteers, who had gone willingly with the envoys to see the lands beyond their home.  They likely had heard of the Tang empire from Yamato, and so it wouldn't be so surprising if they decided to go see it for themselves. Where it is of particular interest to us right now is that we have an apparent eyewitness account of the description given to the Tang Emperor about the Emishi by the Yamato envoys.  Be aware that the envoys were not necessarily experts in Emishi culture, and may not have met any other than their travel companions, but the description, given by none other than Yuki no Hakatoko, who was apparently there, at the Tang court, when it happened, gives us invaluable insight into how Yamato viewed the Emishi. The entire thing is a bit of a question and answer session as the Tang Emperor, Tang Gaozong, inquired about the Emishi and who they were.  In response to his questions, the envoys assured him that Yamato and the Emishi were at peace with each other.  They further noted that there were three different groups of Emishi.  Those farthest from Yamato were the Tsugaru Emishi.  Next, slightly closer to Yamato, were the Ara-Emishi.  “Ara” in this case means “soft”, and was probably a reference to the fact that those Emishi closer to Yamato were seen as more compliant.  Finally ,there are the “Nigi-Emishi”, living right on the borders.  “Nigi” in this case seems to refer to them being the “Gentle” or even “Civilized” Emishi.  I suspect that those living closest to Yamato were also the ones doing things like farming, and possibly building burial mounds.  They may have even mixed with some of the border communities, and may have included Wa communities that were outside of Yamato's influence.  After all, it isn't entirely obvious that “Emishi” referred to a single ethnic identity. In providing further answers to the emperor's questioning, we are told that the Emishi, at least according to the Yamato envoys, didn't farm, but instead they sustained themselves through hunting and fishing.  Furthermore, we are told that they didn't live in houses, but instead they dwelt under trees and in the recesses of the mountains.  This one is a little more questionable, after all, we have evidence of pit houses and villages all the way up to Aomori and back to Jomon times.  However, it is quite possible that Yamato was often encountering hunting parties, which very likely may have been using makeshift shelters or utilizing natural features like caves when they were out traveling.  Some of this, though, may have been built around ideas and concepts of how quote-unquote “barbaric” people lived, focusing on the exceptional, exotic, and sensationalist instances rather than on the more mundane day-to-day details.  Finally, the emperor himself commented on the “unusual appearance” of the Emishi.  We know that the Japanese terms for the Emishi refer to them as hairy barbarians, and if they were anything like modern Ainu, they were likely a good deal more hirsute than their Yamato neighbors.  This was no doubt a stereotype, as, again, Emishi may have also included some members of the Wa in their numbers, but they also appear to have included groups of people that were quite physically distinct.  Some DNA evidence also bears this out, and even today many people with deep ancestral ties to the Tohoku region demonstrate closer ties to ancient Jomon populations than to the succeeding Yayoi population that came over from the continent with their rice farming techniques. And so that gives us mostly what we know about the Emishi, except that they seem to have left out the Emishi of Watari no Shima—the Emishi of Hokkaido.  They would have been beyond the Tsugaru Emishi, unless they were considered similar, and painted with the same brush. And speaking of Watari no Shima, we have one more entry before we bring things to a close, and that is from the third month of the year 660.  Once more, Abe no Omi, who must have been getting his frequent sailor miles in by this point—or at least one hopes he had been invited to the Captain's circle at least.  Anyway, Abe no Omi was sent on yet another expedition, this time with 200 ships, and this time quite specifically against the Mishihase.  He made a stop in Michinoku on the way up where he brought some of the Emishi on his own boat—possibly as translators and guides.  They then continued northern until they reached a large river—Aston suggests that it was possibly the Ishikari river, north of modern Sapporo.  There they found a thousand Emishi of Watari no Shima encamped. Upon seeing the Yamato forces, two men came out from the camp to let Hirafu and his men know that the Mishihase had arrived in their own fleet, threatening to kill all of them.  And so they asked permission to cross the river over to Hirafu and join him.  Specifically we are told they asked to “serve the government” suggesting that they were willing to suborn themselves if Hirafu would assist with driving off the Mishihase. Hirafu had the two spokespersons come aboard his ship and then show him where the enemy was concealed.  They showed him where, telling him that the Mishihase had some 20 ships. Hirafu sent for the Mishihase to come and face him, but they refused.  And so instead he tried a different tactic.  He piled up colored silk cloth, weapons, iron, etc., in sight of the Mishihase, hoping that their curiosity and greed would get the better of them.  Sure enough, they drew up in their boats, which were decorated with feathers tied on poles like a flag.  Their vessels were powered with oars, and they brought them to the shallows.  From there, they sent two older men out to inspect the pile.  The men came out, and when they saw what was there, they exchanged their clothes for some from the pile and took some of the silk cloth and then returned to their ship.  After some time, they came back out, took off the exchanged garments and laid them down with the silk.  With that, they then boarded their ship and departed. Aston suggests that this behavior mimics an aspect of something called an “unseen trade” which he claims had been common in the region of Hokkaido until recently.  I hadn't found anything specifically about that, but it does make a kind of sense, especially if groups are possibly hostile and perhaps don't speak the same language. So does that mean that, for all of his military might, Hirafu was basically just buying off the Mishihase? In any case, it seems they did not take it.  They left the garments and the silk, which seems to have indicated that they had no deal, and they departed.  Hirafu pursued the Mishihase, and tried to get them to come out again—presumably looking for a stand up fight between his 200 ships and the MIshihase's 20, but instead the Mishihase headed to the island of Herobe, in another part of Watari no Shima.  After a while of being holed up, the Mishihase did sue for peace, but by that point, Abe no Hirafu was having none of it.  So they took themselves to their palisades and there they tried to hold out against Abe no Hirafu's forces.  Noto no Omi no Mamukatsu was slain in the fighting, as we can only suspect that others were as well, but over time the Yamato forces began to wear them down. Finally, when it seemed there was no way they could win or escape, the MIshihase took the drastic step of killing their own women and children, perhaps fearing what the Yamato soldiers would do to them if they were caught. And with that, it was over.  There are only a few mentions of the Mishihase, or even the Emishi, in the rest of the Nihon Shoki.  Granted, as we will eventually see, the people of Yamato were no doubt pre-occupied with what was going on to the west, where the Baekje-Tang war would be soon coming to a close.  Abe no Hirafu would be called on, once more, in that famous conflict, but we are going to save that for another day. For now, I think we can end things here.  Or just about.  I would be remiss if I didn't mention that there is a theory that many of these expeditions were actually the same thing, but recorded slightly differently in different ways, with some confusion about the actual dates.  Even if that was the case, it doesn't necessarily discount the overall information provided, and that information seems to at least somewhat conform to what we know about the archaeological record, as far as I can tell.  Granted, this is still the story as told by outsiders.  Since the people labeled “Emishi” didn't leave us with any records of this time, themselves, we don't exactly have their side of things, which is something we should keep in mind. This isn't the last time the Emishi will pop up in Japanese history.  Even if they were being granted rank, the Emishi remained a group apart.  Succeeding generations of Japanese would settle in the Tohoku region, eventually absorbing or pushing out the Emishi, or Ezo, while on Hokkaido, the people we know as the Ainu, who were likely an amalgamation of both Okhotsk Sea people and Epi-Jomon and Satsumon cultures, would eventually become dominant across the island of Hokkaido—at least until the 19th century. But that is for much later episodes.  For now, we'll continue to stick with our small, but active corner of the 7th century.  There is still a lot more to explore in this reign.  Next episode will be our annual New Year's recap, and then we will continue on with more from this episode in the following year. 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.

This is the first in a two part series on the people living to the Northeast of Yamato, in the areas of Tohoku and Hokkaido.  They are called in the Chronicles, the Emishi and the Mishihase, and these designations appear to refer to areas that include the Epi-Jomon and later Satsumon cultures as well as members of the Okhotsk Sea Culture, all archaeological designations for various people whom we know primarily through their archaeological remains.  We also discuss a bit about how all of this ties in (or doesn't) with the modern Ainu, and why we don't necessarily use that term until much later in the historical record. For more, check out our podcast blog at: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-116   Rough Transcript   Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 116: The People of the North, Part 1   A soldier stood watch on the Nutari Barrier.  It was only a few years old—built to define and defend the boundaries between the lands under Yamato rule and the untamed wilds, beyond.  Looking behind him, the soldier could see the smoke from the nearby settlement, also newly constructed, which would supply him and his fellow guards with food and clothing while they took their turn at the border. Looking outwards, the soldier wondered what life beyond the barrier was like.  He had seen people crossing through, mostly with various trade goods.  For the most part, they didn't seem all that different, but he had heard stories: stories of wild men and women who lived in caves and slept under the trees.  They were hunters who knew the woods and could easily slip through areas that didn't even have roads. As one traveled further north, things grew only more wild and untamed—or so the stories said.   Giant bears with paws as large as a human head roamed the land—he'd seen a skin once and it was massive.  The people of the north fought with them and, or so he'd heard, even kept them as pets. Further, well beyond the pale, there were people who lived on the sea.  They traveled between islands in the frozen north, and hunted the beasts of the ocean.  They were few, but they were mighty people. A chill went through the soldier's spine.  He'd only ever heard stories of most of these outsiders, and even then it was hard to tell what was truth and what was merely exaggeration.  He had never actually gone out to see it himself, though he'd met some who claimed they had. It gave him some sense of worth that he was out here, defending the settled, civilized lands of his people from the wild, ungoverned tribes beyond the border.  That said, he hoped with all his heart that things remained peaceful.  Yes, it would certainly be better that way for all involved.   We are just starting out the second reign of Takara Hime, which started in the year 655.  For her first reign, the Chroniclers would give her the title of Kougyoku Tennou, but when she retook the throne they named her Saimei.  As we talked about in the last couple of episodes, there was a lot going on at this point, not just on the archipelago, but in the rest of Asia as well.   We'll summarize that briefly just to set the stage for the beginning of Takara Hime's reign, but this episode we're going to primarily focus on the expansion of Yamato authority throughout the rest of the archipelago, or at least the rest of Honshu.  In this context, we'll be talking extensively about the people that the Chronicles call the Emishi, since this section of the Chronicles contains numerous entries that give us our clearest look, to date, at who they were, at least from a Yamato perspective.  We'll also be looking at another group in the north, known to us as the Mishihase, for whom we have even less information. As this whole episode got a bit long, we are going to be doing this in two parts.  This episode, I'd like to introduce you to some of the terms, discuss some of the problems and considerations around these topics, and touch on what we know based largely on the archaeological record.  In the second episode we'll focus on the narrative as it appears in the Nihon Shoki, which hopefully will be something that makes more sense once we have that archaeological context.  While there are certainly some things that appear to coincide between the two narratives, there are a lot of differences.  Archaeology can help us understand the material culture, and give us some insights into the lifeways of a particular group of people, but it doesn't let us know what they said, and rarely gives us information about a particular event. Before we dive into this, I think it would be useful to touch on terms that we are going to be using this episode, and next.  I mention this because while we are dealing with the past, our story of the past is very much affecting the lives of people in the present.  Most specifically, the lives of the Ainu people of Hokkaido, and how their history and experience intertwines with the concept of the “Emishi” that we see in the Chronicles.  So let's explore these terms, and see where it takes us. First, I should probably make a note about the difference between “Wa” and “Yamato”, at least as I'm using it in this episode.  When I use “Wa” I'll be referring to the ethnic group, while “Yamato” refers to the state.  For the most part, as we are focused on the historical state forming in central Honshu, we'll talk about Yamato, or the State of Yamato. That is a political entity that is majority Wa in its make-up, but that doesn't mean that there weren't Wa people outside of the Yamato state, nor that Yamato was made up of only people who identified, ethnically as Wa.  As we've seen, the Yamato state also included immigrants who identified as people of Baekje, Silla, Goguryeo, and even Emishi. Next, the Emishi.  The term “Emishi” is an exonym used by Yamato to describe those who are outside of Yamato's borders and controls, especially up in Tohoku.  By “exonym”, I mean that it's a term imposed from outside – in this case, by Yamato – on the group of people known as the Emishi, because we really don't know what they called themselves. Moreover, the term “Emishi” is complex, and doesn't necessarily describe a single, monolithic ethnic group or culture – more a group of possible ethnicities, that occupied a particular “slot” relative to Yamato cultural identity, namely that of outsiders.  The Chronicles refer to several different geographic regions as “Emishi”, situated relative to the core of the Yamato polity -- but the archeological evidence is much more nuanced.  A prime example are the studies carried out on the “Emishi” mummies of the Oshu Fujiwara, a 12th century ruling elite who lived in Hiraizumi and who were considered “Emishi” by the court in Heian-kyo—modern Kyoto.  In studying the mummies, it was determined that they were closely related to the Wa people of Japan and the Kinki region.  This finding is important and I'll come back to it in a bit, but the takeaway is that “Emishi” doesn't automatically mean physical or cultural differences like we might assume.  There were likely ethnic Wa Emishi, along with Emishi who were more closely connected with the indigenous people—descendants of the Jomon and possible ancestors to the later Ainu people. Finally, the Ainu.  It's extremely likely that some of the people that the Chroniclers called “Emishi” may have been the ancestors of the Ainu people of today.  But the correspondence is definitely not one-to-one, as some historians used to think.  And since this is a sensitive topic with ongoing patterns of inequity and silenced voices, it's important to lay some groundwork before going further. For my part, I would like to do my best to introduce the people and the history as we know it with as little bias as I can manage, but please realize that there are certainly controversies around this area and open wounds that have not yet healed. The modern Ainu are the indigenous inhabitants of Hokkaido, Sakhalin, and Kuril islands.  They also once inhabited the very northern part of Tohoku.  In their own language, Ainu Itak, these islands are part of Ainu Mosir, the Lands of the Ainu, and “Ainu” itself is simply a word for “humans” or “people”.  While there are many cultural and linguistic ties to the Japanese—they have been neighbors for centuries—they are culturally distinct, and their language, Ainu Itak, is considered a linguistic isolate, with no known relatives outside of the Ainu homelands. The relationship between the Ainu and the Wa people—the general term for ethnic Japanese—has been one of tension and conflict born of colonization.  In the 19th century in particular, the nation of Japan claimed Hokkaido and began to settle it.  The wide open spaces were great for new industries, such as cattle ranching, which could supply dairy and beef, two things that had come into vogue with other aspects of Western culture.  I won't get into the entire history of it, but the Japanese government used tactics similar to those used in the United States against indigenous populations, often forcing people to speak Japanese instead of their native language in a paternalistic attempt to quote-unquote “civilize” the Ainu people.  Only relatively recently have the Ainu been accorded some protections in Japanese law. For our part, the study of Ainu history has long been one conducted by outsiders looking in, which of course has come with all sorts of baggage.  For instance, as I alluded to above, there has long been a tendency to equate the Ainu with the Emishi, which along with everything else cast the Ainu as somewhat less culturally evolved.  Much of this study was also taking place during a time when Marxist concepts of societal evolution were in vogue.  Add to that the generally patronizing and Colonialist concepts that were rampant in Western anthropology at the time—things like the stereotype of the “noble savage” and even the concept of “primitive” societies—and there were definitely some problematic concepts that continue to echo through into modern discussions.  Another complexity in understanding Ainu culture and history has been that the Ainu people do tend to be physically distinct from many other Japanese, which has been linked to outdated ideas about physical types and ethnicity.  Many Ainu people show more tendency towards body and facial hair than mainland Japanese, with bushy beards being common among men, and blue eyes aren't uncommon – which, combined with overall light skin, led to early identification of Ainu people as being of “Caucasian stock” according to outdated racial classifications.  The theory was that they traveled from the west across Asia in the distant past and somehow settled in the islands north of Japan.  This ties into how much of the archaeological fervor of the 19th and 20th centuries in Japan was wrapped around ethno-nationalist ideals and looking to find the origins of the Japanese people, often using concepts of eugenics to seek out physical and cultural differences between the Japanese and “other” people, such as the Ainu, to help better define who are—and who are not—Japanese.  For example, remember those Oshu Fujiwara mummies and how they were from a group described by the Chronicles as “Emishi” but ended up being more physically similar to modern Wa than modern Ainu?  Some scholars took this finding to mean that all of the Emishi were Wa people, effectively denying any ancestral claims or links that Ainu people may have had to Honshu, other than those historically attested to from about the 15th century onwards.  In similar ways, for each instance of some new “finding”, there have often been those who would use it as a further reason to discriminate against the Ainu. There is a lot of important archaeological work that has been done in Tohoku and elsewhere to help shed more light on the people living in areas that the Chronicles associate with the Emishi and beyond.  But while archaeological digs in places like Honshu and Kyushu were often done with great public support, archaeological work in places like Hokkaido often involved investigating burials of potential ancestors without consent, and even today there is some contention over how various artifacts were acquired.  As with too many places in the world, the data was not always gathered under what we may consider, today, the strictest of ethical standards.  So as important as the archeological perspective is – at least we are going off of physical items that we find rather than on the narrative imposed on the region by those in Yamato – it's important to keep that context in mind. Even recent attempts to better contextualize Ainu history at places like the Upopoy National Museum in Shiraoi, while apparently doing their best to provide that context, are still hampered by the weight of previous missteps in the relationship between the Ainu and the government.  Activists have noted that even Upopoy, the first such national museum devoted to the Ainu themselves, is still built on colonialist policies and artifacts and human remains acquired without all of the necessary consent and consultation with local Ainu.  Upopoy, for its part, appears to have reached out to those willing to work with them, and for all that there may be some controversy, it certainly has a lot of information for those interested in it. So, given these caveats, what does the archeological record tell us about the wide range of people and areas called “Emishi” by the Chronicles, including both those areas closer to the Yamato heartland, and the areas we know today as Ainu Mosir? To understand the patterns of settlement and cultural trends that we see up north – in Tohoku and Hokkaido --let's go back to the end of the Jomon period and the very start of the Yayoi.  As wet rice paddy cultivation (and accompanying pottery styles and other material goods) began to make its way into the archipelago, up through about the Kinki region—the original land of Yamato, or Yamateg—it was brought by a people that seem quite strongly connected to other people in east Asia, and these people largely replaced the indigenous Jomon era populations in western Japan.  However, the new material culture traveled faster and farther than the new people themselves, and it appears that in eastern Honshu, at least, much of the new farming technology, pottery, and other lifeways of the Yayoi culture were adopted by people that appear to share a great deal in common, physically, with the previous Jomon populations, suggesting that local populations were, themselves, adopting the new technology and being absorbed into the Yayoi culture.  This expansion of Yayoi culture and rice farming initially exploded all the way up to the very northern edge of Tohoku, but over time it started to decline in the northernmost regions.  Whether due to a change in the climate or simply the fact that the colder, snowier regions in Tohoku were not as hospitable to farming, we see that rice cultivation fell into disuse, and people seem to have once again picked up the lifeways of their ancestors in the region, returning to a more hunter-gatherer style of subsistence.  Indeed, in northern Tohoku and Hokkaido we see the continued evolution of Jomon culture in a phase that is generally known as the Epi-Jomon, or, in Japanese, the Zoku-Jomon period, which generally lasted through the end of the 7th century.  This Epi-Jomon or Zoku-Jomon cultural region lay far outside the “official” Yamato borders according to the Chroniclers in an area considered to be part of “Michinoku” – literally past the end of the road – so it's understandably commonly associated with the Emishi.  But once again, it's not that simple, because we do see Yayoi and Kofun culture extending up into this region.  In fact, there are even keyhole shaped kofun up in Tohoku, the largest of these being Raijinyama kofun, thought to have been built between the late 4th and early 5th centuries.  It sits south of modern Sendai, and there are numerous other tombs there as well, suggesting it was well connected to Yamato and the kofun culture of central Honshu. Another complication is that we have regions officially designated Emishi that were much closer in – on the borders of Yamato itself.  Based on simply the written record, it would seem that “Emishi” resided as close to Yamato as the lands of Koshi and the land of Hitachi, at the very least.  The Emishi in Koshi are mentioned several times in the Chronicles, and both the Nihon Shoki and works like the Hitachi Fudoki mention Emishi or people who are at least outside of the Yamato cultural sphere.  This area bordering Yamato seems to have been the most affected by kofun and even Yamato culture, and also would have likely come into the most direct conflict with Yamato itself.  It is also the area most likely to include those who, for one reason or another, decided to yet themselves outside the growing reach of the Yamato state, a pattern that would continue for centuries to come.  On top of that, there is something else going on in northern Hokkaido, where, starting around the 5th century, we see different archeological assemblages from the south, indicating further cultural distinctiveness from the Tohoku and southern Hokkaido inhabitants.  These are mostly found on the coast in the northern part of Hokkaido, and match closely with the culture we see first in the Sakhalin island, and later the Kurils, along the edges of the Okhotsk Sea.  Hence the name we've given to this unknown culture:  The Okhotsk Sea Culture, or just the Okhotsk culture. From what we can glean, the people of the Okhotsk culture subsisted largely off the hunting of marine mammals, such as seals, sea lions, sea cows, and whales.  In contrast, the Epi-Jomon people appear to have subsisted more on inland hunting strategies, along with coastal fishing, which is represented in their settlement patterns, among other things.  This latter description likewise tracks with descriptions of the Emishi as subsisting largely off of hunted game. It is unclear what exactly happened to the Okhotsk Sea Culture, but they appear to be one of the ancestral groups of the modern Nivkh people, on the northern part of Sakhalin and the lower Amur River and coastal regions, though the Okhotsk Sea Culture also seems to have had a large influence on the development of the people known today as the Ainu.  Modern DNA testing of Ainu demonstrate connections both with the earlier Jomon people of Japan—a connection that is much stronger than in most Japanese—but also with people from the Okhotsk Sea region.  Still, how and in what ways those people came together is not clear. The connection to the Jomon and Epi-Jomon people appears to be strengthened by the fact that throughout Tohoku there are placenames that appear to be more closely related to the Ainu language than to Japanese.  For example, in Ainu itak, terms like “nai” and “pet” refer to rivers and streams, and we find a lot of placenames ending with “nai”, “be”, or “betsu”.  These are often written with kanji that would be understandable to Japanese speakers, but the prevalence and location of these names often make people think that they are likely related to Ainu itak, in some way—possibly a proto-Ainuic language or dialect that is now lost. While I can't discount the fact that some this could be due to false etymologies, we can add to it the fact that the term “Emishi” was eventually changed to “Ezo”, which itself came to be used primarily for Hokkaido and the people there, including the people we know of today as the Ainu.  However, it isn't clear that the term Emishi, or even “Ezo”, was consistently applied to only one group, and its usage may have changed over time, simply being used in each period to refer to the people of the Tohoku and Hokkaido regions outside of the control of the Japanese court. Another aspect of the archaeological record is the change in the Epi-Jomon culture to what we know as the Satsumon culture around the time of our narrative.  Satsumon, like Jomon, is derived from the distinctive pottery styles found.  “Jomon” means “cord-marked”, referring to the use of pressed cords and similar decoration on the pottery, and starting in the 7th century we see a new style using wood to scrape designs, instead.  Thus the term “Satsumon”.  It first pops up in Honshu, but by the 9th century it had spread to Hokkaido and eventually even spread to areas associated with the Okhotsk Sea Culture.  It would last until roughly the 13th century, when it was replaced by a culture that is more clearly related to the modern Ainu people. But the Satsumon culture wasn't just new types of pottery.  We see more ironwork appearing in the Satsumon culture, as well as the cultivation of millet and other types of agriculture.  Tohoku and Hokkaido were still a bit cold for the ancient forms of wet rice agriculture that were prevalent in more southern regions, and millet and other crops likely fit more easily into the lifeways of the people in these areas. Likewise, by the 8th century, we also see a new type of stove appearing in Satsumon villages.  This “kamado” seems clearly related to the type of stove that came over to Honshu from the Korean peninsula around the 5th century, reaching Hokkaido by the 8th, and eventually finding purchase on Sakhalin by the 11th, demonstrating a slow yet continuous adoption. Some of these changes might be explained by greater contact with Wa people and the trade networks that extended through Honshu and over to the mainland, but there were also trade routes through Sakhalin island over to the Amur River delta and beyond that should not be overlooked, even if they weren't as prevalent in the written histories of the time. I previously mentioned that in the next episode, we'll dive into more of what the Chronicles have to say about the Emishi, but to give a preview, the Chronicles have already mentioned the Emishi several times as trading and treating with the Yamato state.  Back in the era before the Isshi Incident, Naka no Oe's coup in 645, Soga no Emishi himself had dealings with the Emishi of the land of Koshi, which we covered in episode 107.  Then, in the previous reign, Emishi had attended court, but the court had also erected barriers and barrier towns in Nutari and Ihabune in 647 and 648 to protect the border areas from purported raids by the Emishi.  Hence the episode opener, imagining what it might be like for a soldier at one of these barrier towns.  But, there is also another people that we've already talked about, mentioned in the Chronicles:  The Sushen people, also glossed as either the Mishihase or Ashihase people.  In the Nihon Shoki, they first appeared in an entry in the reign of Kimmei Tennou, when a group of them came ashore on Sado island, which we discussed back in episode 86.  In this period, however, the  appear to be referencing a people who were living in the north of Hokkaido, and who were putting pressure on the people to their south, much as Yamato was putting pressure on the people to their northeast. The Sinitic characters, or kanji, used to name them in the Nihon Shoki uses a term from mainland writings for the Sushen people.  This name is first given to people mentioned in early Warring States documents, such as the Classic of Mountains and Seas, as living on the Shandong peninsula.  Eventually, however, as empires expanded, the term was used to refer to people along the Amur river region and the coast, in modern China and Russia—the eastern areas of what we know as “Manchuria”.  These were probably not the same people originally referred to as living in Shandong, and instead seems to apply to the Yilou people, and likely also is cognate with the later term “Jurchen”. In the ancient Sinic documents, the Sushen are described as hunter-gatherers who live in the open, using caves and other such natural features for temporary shelter.  They hunted with bows and arrows, which were tipped with stone arrowheads.  To the settled cultures of the Yellow River basin, they were considered a primitive and barbaric people. As for the people mentioned in the Nihon Shoki, it is quite likely that the term “Sushen” was used differently.  Rather than referring to Jurchen people, or someone from mainland northeast Asia, it is thought that the characters were used because of the similar role played by the people of northern Hokkaido and Sakhalin island—and possibly because of connection with the Amur river region, including the area referred to in older documents as “Su-shen”.  Still, the people referred to in the Nihon Shoki were probably what we know as the Okhotsk Sea culture, especially based on what we know from later descriptions.  From Yamato's point of view, they were likewise living in the extreme northeast and they were a hunter-gatherer society that used stone arrowheads in their hunting.  The fact that it is glossed as either Mishihase or Ashihase by later commentators suggests that this was the name by which the Yamato knew these people, and the kanji were just borrowed for their meaning of a people in the northeast. And so in the 7th century we have both the Emishi and the Mishihase, at least in the northeast.  There are also the Hayato, another group of people in the southern reaches of Tsukushi.  We are told that they and the Emishi both attended the court in 655 in great numbers.   Discussion of who the Hayato were is probably best left for another episode.  Suffice it to say that they appear to be culturally distinct from the groups in the northeast, at least at this point. And that's where we are going to pause things for now.  The archaeological record gives us some idea of the people inhabiting the areas of Tohoku and up to Hokkaido, but it only tells part of the story—and it is a story that we are continuing to uncover.  Even today people are working on archaeological sites that just may turn up new information that will change how we see things. Next episode, we'll dive into the narrative of the Nihon Shoki and take a look at the actions of individuals—especially the actions of Abe no Hirafu, a key player in what was to happen in the north. 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.

Petite ville située dans la région du Kansai sur l'île de Honshu, Nara se situe à seulement 42 kilomètres au sud de Kyoto. Elle est également la capitale de la préfecture éponyme. Reconnue pour son patrimoine historique, cette ancienne capitale du Japon se caractérise par ses cerfs qui s'y déplacent en liberté. Marjorie et Charly lui consacrent un épisode complet pour vous présenter cet incontournable de tout voyage au Japon.

Episode Notes Join our Patreon for early access and bonus episodes and help support the show! Get exclusive Japanese horror merchandise and join the Discord! As we continue our ghostly tour of Japan, this week we're heading to Kansai in the southern-central region of Honshu. Uncover six terrifying tales from Japan's ancient capital. BGM thanks to Myuuji, Kevin MacLeod and CO.AG. Sound effects thanks to Free Sound and freeSFX. Licensed under Creative Commons: By Attribution 3.0 License Support Kowabana: 'True' Japanese scary stories from around the internet by contributing to their tip jar: https://tips.pinecast.com/jar/kowabana

This episode we look at the Hakuchi era.  Specifically, the implementation of something called the "Equal Fields" system, which seems to be what the court was trying to implement in some of their early Ritsuryo edicts.  And then we'll see why this era is the "Asuka" period and not the "Naniwa" period, despite the grand temple to government erected in that area of ancient Osaka. For more, check out https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-114 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Episode 114: Public Lands and Remote Work   In the early evening, Karu paced through the halls of the inner palace.  The grand scale of the construction was impressive, and it was built and furnished with the finest materials available.  In all aspects it was the shining jewel.  The center of the Yamato world.  The entire thing still felt new. And yet, for all of that, it now felt strangely empty.  So many of those who had previously graced its halls were only memories.  Karu looked over the halls and wondered:  Was it worth it?    He had worked with his nephew and others to build a Kingdom worthy of the name.  They had instituted reforms to model themselves after the major powers of the day.  They had a built a palace to last the test of time.  This wasn't just another place to be abandoned—this was meant to be the bedrock on which the new State would stand.  It was the center of ritual and of the government. But was it?  The government was more than just buildings.  It was the people who made up the offices and the ministries.  It was the entire royal family.  It was the scholars and the officials, debating just how things should work. What would happen when Karu was gone?  Would this system last the test of time?  Or would it disappear, to be replaced by something new?  For centuries, every sovereign had made a new home for themselves every time the previous sovereign passed away.  Is that what would happen to Karu as well? As the sun set, and darkness set in, Karu could only wonder what the future might hold. So here we are in the Hakuchi era, during the reign of Karu, aka Ame Yorodzu Toyohi, which is to say between the years 650 and 654.  The era of Great Change was now the era of the White Pheasant – listen to our last couple of episodes to understand why -- and all of the changes weve been discussing were starting to really come together.  Front and center of those changes was the Nagara Toyosaki Palace, a physical manifestation of the new bureaucratic system of government that the sovereign, Karu; the Crown Prince, Naka no Oe; and others had put into place.  The work of this government was happening on a stage much grander than anything that had previously been seen in the islands. This was the start of what we know as the Ritsuryo Era, and it was finally coalescing.  In this episode we'll talk about how, in the Hakuchi era, we see the implementation of the continental system known as the “Equal Field System”, and how the bureaucratic government was extended down to the individual household.  This was all part of what we've come to know as the Ritsuryo state, which we talked about back in Episode 108 as we started all of these changes.  We are now seeing the foundations of that new state, and we are several years into its implementation, seeing those early edicts finally starting to bear fruit.All of this, of course, was focused on the seat of government in Naniwa. And yet, spoiler alert, this is not called the “Naniwa Era”.  We are still in what many refer to as the Asuka Era.  So what happened?  Towards the end of the episode we'll talk about what happened as the era came to a close, or at least as much as we know. To kick us off, let's talk about where we stand in the Hakuchi era, and look at the culmination of these early Ritsuryo changes we've been talking about. Whatever else had happened, various good omens, crises, and so on – the work of the government was continuing.  Once again, we see records of various envoys from the continent —and we'll get into the international situation, later—but for now, let's focus on what was going on in the archipelago itself.  Specifically, I want to talk about something called the Equal Field System, another innovation that Karu and his administration introduced to Yamato. The Equal Field System goes back to at least the Northern Wei dynasty, over on the continent, in the late 5th century.  It attempted to solve several issues regarding how the government could make sure that land was being worked—and that the government was also getting its cut.  To that end, let's back up a bit and talk about concepts of public versus private land, and how they apply to Yamato at the time. The concept of “private” land may seem simplistic, as we have an idea of what it means today.  Your “private” land is land you own, of course.  “Public” land belongs to the government.  But in Japan—and in much of East Asia—those concepts weren't necessarily the same.  In many early theories of land ownership, all land belonged to the State—individuals were simply using it.  To a certain degree, even today, land is often held only so long as you have a deed or other proof of ownership that is recognized by the State, but concepts like eminent domain can supercede that ownership. So for our purposes, here, Private land was land where all the produce went to a private individual or private interest,  such as a family—or even a temple or shrine.  If it was truly privately-owned land, then all of the produce of that land went to the owner.  Even if the government technically owned the land, the land could still be considered private, meaning that it wasn't  considered taxable by the government – whoever controlled the land got all the produce. In contrast to that, public land was land where the government was owed some or all of the produce.  It might have been worked by individuals, but was still taxable in part or full.  An early system that goes back to at least the Zhou dynasty was known as the Well Field System.  In this system, land was ideally divided into nine squares.  The eight squares of land on the outside of the square would all be held and worked by private farmers, who were able to keep whatever they produced on the land.  In return, they were to provide labor on the public land in the center, the produce of which went to the State, which could then be stashed away in case of famine or used to help increase the State's coffers and thus pay for other amenities. Of course often it just went into the pockets of various aristocrats.  I also wonder just how much effort was actually put in to working the public land in the Well Field System. That name, by the way, comes from how the whole schematic looked when drawn out.  The hanzi, or kanji, for a “well”—as in a place where you draw water—is much like a modern hashtag mark.  Think two horizontal and two vertical lines, like a tic-tac-toe board.  This comes from the fact that wells were often square or rectangular holes, the sides of which could be reinforced with wood.  At the top, the well frame was often formed with overlapping wooden beams, forming a shape similar to a hashtag.  And so in the Well Field System, the center of the tic-tac-toe board was the public land, and everything else was private.  This system fell apart with the fall of the Zhou during the Summer and Autumn periods, though there were attempts to revive it.  After all, it had been mentioned in the Book of Rites, the Liji, and it was praised by Mengzi—the famous scholar and philosopher we known to the West by his latinized name of  “Mencius”.  As such, it was officially documented as a “good idea” and so there were often attempts to revive it. The Northern Wei, however, took a slightly different approach.  In the late 5th century, they were looking for a way to curb the power of aristocratic families.  Since the Qin dynasty and onwards, they had seen the growth of families accumulating land and thus wealth and power.  These powerful families were both necessary and a threat, as they held the power to prop up or tear down a government.  Farmers would need to rent land from the powerful landowners, paying them a portion of their harvest as rent. To counter this, the Northern Wei instituted the Equal Field system.  Under this system, they claimed government ownership of vast swaths of land and then provided equal parts of that government land to every adult person.  Upon a person's death, their land would revert back to the government, who could then redistribute it to others.  The peasants would then be expected to provide a portion of the harvest as tax—they would provide food-rent for the land, as well as payment in cloth and a set number of days of corvee labor.  The key was that all of this payment was due to the government, and not to private aristocratic families. After the Northern Wei fell, the Equal Field system was reinvigorated by the Sui and Tang dynasties, who extended the system across their territories—or at least within the Yellow River and Yangzi River basins.  The system did have some allowances for inheritance—especially in instances like mulberry groves, which would be maintained by successive generations.  In general, however, most of the land was to be reclaimed by the government upon a person's death or at the point that they reached 60 years of age, and then it would be redistributed. This is still a relatively simplistic overview, and there were plenty of different adjustments and changes to the system over the years.  Key for us, though, is looking at the adoption of the Equal Field concept in the archipelago. Up to this point, land ownership in Yamato, such as it was, fell under various family groups.  They would own the land and whatever was produced on it, so it was truly private land.  “Yake” were set up by the families as central storehouses and administrative centers.  In this case, the royal family was, in many ways, just another landowner, and their “yake” are indicated in the Chronicles with the royal “mi” honorific—hence the “miyake”. As the reformers went about making changes in the period between 645-650, they adopted the concept of the Equal Field System.  Prominent figures such as Naka no Oe himself gave up their private fields, and the royal lands were turned into government lands.  They instituted the concept that all land in the archipelago nominally belonged to the State, and that others worked it at the Sovereign's pleasure. As we talked about in the past several episodes, this made the Sovereign and the State more prominent in people's lives, and it built bonds with the peasants in that they were granted land on which to work and make a livelihood.  They didn't necessarily have to work out a separate arrangement with some noble family, and the fields and taxes were “equal” for every person. Of course, surveying the land, taking a census, and distributing the land to the people didn't happen overnight, and it isn't even clear how well it occurred outside of the lands originally owned by the royal family, at least initially.  We are told that even though the project had kicked off years earlier, back in 646, it wasn't until the second month of 652 that we are told that the distribution of rice-land had been completed.  30 paces of land—Aston notes that it was 30 paces long by 12 paces wide—made up a single TAN of rice-land, and 10 TAN made up a CHOU.  Each TAN or land a person was granted was expected to provide back to the government a sheaf and a half of rice, with each CHOU providing 15 sheaves. This effort simplified taxation, in a way—everyone owed the same thing, based on their household and how much land they had been granted.  However, it also would have required an enormous bureaucratic engine.  Scribes would have been in high demand—anyone who could read and write.  Without modern computers, they would need to hand count everything in a given district, then send those numbers up to the governor, and then send them again to the capital.  Hence the giant government complex set up in Naniwa to oversee all of this and to ensure that the government worked as intended. In the fourth month of 652, the work continued.  We are told that the registers of population were prepared—presumably based on the information that had been previously acquired from around the provinces and sent to the court.  The earlier edicts from 646 that outlined this system—which we mentioned back in Episode 109—was finally put in force.  As we noted back in that episode, 50 houses made up a township, or RI—the character used is also pronounced “SATO”, today, and often refers to a village.  Each RI had an appointed elder, or head, using the term “CHOU”.  This term is still found today in modern parlance:  The head of a company, or “KAISHA” is the “SHACHOU”, while the head of a division, or BU, within said company would be the BUCHOU.  KAICHOU is the head of an association, or “KAI” and the “GAKUCHOU” is the head of a “DAIGAKU”, a university—basically the University President.  In this case the “CHOU” of the “RI” would be the “RICHOU”, using the Sino-Japanese On'yomi pronunciation, though in the vernacular they probably would have been called the “Sato-osa”.  All of this just means village head or village chief. So 50 houses made up a RI, with one RICHOU at the head.  In addition, each house would have a senior member appointed as the official head of household, or KACHOU.  From there, houses were associated together in groups of five for mutual protection, with one head, or CHOU, per group of five.  And okay, so they were creating groups of people for administrative purposes?  Who cares?  Well, the thing about this is that it was encoded into the new legal system, and it had several implications.  Chief among them was the implication of primogeniture: Since the most senior person was made the KACHOU or head of household (and by “person” I think we can assume that “man” was a given, unless there were no men in the house for some reason), this meant that the eldest person in the household was automatically the one who inherited that position, along with the status and control that came with it.  As we've seen, up to this point, it was not necessarily the case that the most senior person would inherit in ancient Yamato tradition.  Inheritance could pass from a younger brother to an older brother, or to a younger son of a younger son.  While there was some apparent concern over lineage and making sure that the individual was of the proper bloodline, at least for royal inheritance, there was not an automatic assumption of precedence for who would inherit. Of course, as we've seen, this set off all sorts of disputes and problems, especially among the elite where wealth and power was involved.  However, I think it is fair to assume that these problems weren't relegated purely to the upper levels of society.  Inheritance is always tricky, even in cases where it seems like it should be straightforward. I imagine that the institution of primogeniture as a legal concept would have had consequences beyond just inheritance.  It set up ideas of who was “important” in the family, and the family is often a microcosm of society at large.  Primogeniture meant that age and masculinity were both valued over youth and femininity.  That isn't to say that pre-Taika Ritsuryo was a bastion of equality, but we do see more instances where men and women seem to be on closer to equal footing. In the concept of primogeniture, I believe we can also see the institution of Confucian values—not surprising as this whole thing is cribbed from the continent, with a lot of it being taken from the Tang court.  We've discussed Confucian concepts of filial piety and how that fed into patriarchal—and frankly monarchical—ideas.  The Father and Son, the Ruler and Subject, the Husband and Wife, Elder Brother and Younger Brother, etc.  These were the relationships that were important and they defined much of the way people were expected to interact. As the new system being instituted copied the form of continental government, it would have also been preaching many of its values, as well.  Scholars will continue to debate how widespread the changes actually were.  Did the equal-fields system exist all the way out to the edge of Emishi territory?  Did it cover the mountainous regions of Honshu?  How about to the West of Yamato?  We don't know, but nonetheless, we do see both the expansion and centralization of Yamato power, so there seems to be something to it. By all accounts, the work that had taken place in this era appears to have been a smashing success.  The Taika reforms had taken hold, and the Ritsuryo state seemed to be off to a roaring start.  At the center of it was the newly built Nagara Toyosaki Palace, a giant stage for carrying out the business and ritual of the State.  One would think that the founders of this new State would have been overjoyed.  Naka no Oe, Nakatomi no Kamatari, and the sovereign, Karu, among them.  And yet, the story doesn't seem quite that simple. The first Ministers of the Right and Left had already passed away.  Abe no Oho-omi had passed of what appears to be natural causes, but Soga no Oho-omi, aka Ishikawa no Maro, was undone by slander, accused of treason, and took his own life rather than being killed by the government forces sent after him.  And in the 6th month of 653, the sovereign was told that the Priest Min had passed away. Min—Aston sometimes transcribes it as “Bin”—was one of the sources for much of the information about the continental systems of government.  We've mentioned him on and off for the last 5 or 6 episodes, though you may not have always caught the reference.  Also, since even Aston switches between pronunciations at times, I apologize if I haven't been consistent.  If I said Priest “Min” or “Bin”, we're talking about the same person.  He was a Buddhist priest who had traveled to the Sui dynasty in 608, spending 24 years there, witnessing the change from the Sui to the Tang, returning to Yamato in 632.  He was consulted on various omens, and he and Takamuko Kuromaro, who had also been made a State Scholar, or Hakase, at the same time, both worked to set up the eight ministries of the state, the core of the Ritsuryo bureaucracy. The death of Min was felt across the organs of state.  Both the Queen Dowager and Naka no Oe, the Crown Prince, sent messengers to offer condolences.  The sovereign commanded the painters, Koma no Tachibe no Komaro, Funado no Atahe, and others to make a large number of figures of the Buddha and Boddhisatvas.  They were to be placed in the temple of Kawaradera, though other sources say Yamadadera.  Both of these are in Asuka—although the capital had moved to Naniwa, and there was the temple of Shitennoji there, just south of the palace, I can't help but notice that many of the established temples remained in and around the old capital at Asuka. 653 saw something else, which also seems a bit odd, given the apparent success of the government.  We see that in this year the Crown Prince, Naka no Oe, petitioned his uncle, the Sovereign, to move the royal residence back to the Yamato capital, which is to say Asuka—in the heartland of Yamato as opposed to outside the Nara Basin, like Naniwa.  This is quite the request.  They had just finished establishing a large palace complex in Naniwa.  Why would they pull up stakes and move everything back to Asuka? So the sovereign, Karu, denied Naka no Oe's petition.  Regardless, Naka no Oe took his mother, the Queen Dowager, as well as Karu's own Queen, Hashibito and the younger royal princes, and he moved all of them back to Asuka, moving into the temporary palace of Kawabe.  The ministers and the various Daibu all followed him.  He basically moved the royal family and the court back to Asuka, without Karu's permission, and everyone followed him. We aren't told why this happened.  Was there a falling out between Naka no Oe and the Sovereign?  Was there some other issue that caused Naka no Oe to want to abandon the capital they had worked so hard to build? Karu was understandably upset by this apparent betrayal.  He expressed himself in a poem which he sent to his wife: KANAKITSUKE / AGAKAFU KOMA WA / HIKIDESEZU AGAKAFU KOMA WO / HITO MITSURAMUKA The pony which I keep/ I put shackles on / And led it not out Can anyone have seen / The pony which I keep? And if it wasn't enough that the people had left. We see once more, on the New Year's Day of 654, that the rats likewise left Naniwa and migrated towards Asuka.  This last one I certainly question as to whether or not it happened, but the meaning and symbolism is clear.  The Chroniclers are telling us that the effective capital was moving back to Asuka.  The time in Naniwa was limited. This doesn't appear to have negatively affected the fortunes of Naka no Oe and his supporters.  On the contrary: Nakatomi no Kamatari no Muraji, on this same New Year's Day, was granted the Shikwan, the purple cap, and his fief was increased.  The Toushi Kaden, the History of the Fujiwara House, says that it was increased by 8,000 households. It seems that the business of the government continued apace through 654, though it is a bit unclear just how things worked, given the split between Asuka and Naniwa.  Was Karu left alone in the giant complex he had built?  Or was it still where all of the government work happened?  If so, just how much were the high ministers missed, or were they working remotely, via messenger and post-horse? Whatever the situation, it would resolve by the end of the year.  On the 1st day of the 10th month, Naka no Oe learned that his uncle, the Sovereign, had taken ill.  Naka no Oe and the entire court returned to Naniwa to see him.  Nine days later, on the 10th day of the 10th month, Karu passed away in the state bedchamber he was around 57 or 58 years old.  He was temporarily interred in the southern courtyard, and Mozu no Hashi no Muraji no Doutoko oversaw the palace of temporary interment.  He would be buried in the Ohosaka Shinaga Tomb, which was built near the site of tombs associated with Kashikiyahime and others, south of the Yamato river, on the west side of the mountains that separate the Kawachi plain from the Nara basin. Two months later, Naka no Oe and his mother made it official, and formally moved to the temporary palace of Kawabe in Asuka.  Naka no Oe's mother, Takara Hime, would come to the throne on the third day of the first month of the new year, 655.  It would be her second time on the throne.   Since she reigned twice, the Chroniclers actually gave her two posthumous regnal names.  For the first reign they named her “Kougyoku Tennou”.  In the second reign they named her “Saimei Tennou”, to distinguish from her first reign on the throne.  As far as I know this has only happened twice—the second time being with Kouken, aka Shoutoku, Tennou in the late 8th century. Why she took the throne again is not addressed.  She had been the sovereign, stepping down during the Isshi Incident, when Soga no Iruka was killed in front of her.  At that time, Naka no Oe had been urged to take the throne, but he decided against it.  After all, Furubito no Oe was still around at that time, and seems to have had his own claim.  Naka no Oe couldn't take the throne while Furubito was still alive and, at the same time, claim to be the filial person that Confucian theory said he should be.  And so his uncle, Karu, took the throne, since nobody could really say anything against it.  Now, though, Furubito no Oe and Karu were both deceased.  Why didn't Naka no Oe, the Crown Prince, ascend the throne?  Again, we aren't given an answer.  There is one other thing that is possibly worth noting, however: Karu had a son.  This may be whom they are referring to as the “younger princes” who were brought to Asuka when everyone moved there.  This was Prince Arima.  He is believed to have been born in 640, so he would have been about 15 years old at the time of his father's death.  Naka no Oe was the Crown Prince, but did Arima also have a claim?  He was, after all, the male son of the most recent sovereign, Karu, and his queen, Hashibito hime.  This is something that we will definitely look at in a future episode. It should be noted that Naka no Oe was born in 626.  He would have been 18 or 19 years old during the time of the Isshi incident, and was only ten years old, 29 years old, when his mother took the throne for the second time, in 655.  She, on the other hand, was about 62 years old when she took the throne the second time.  The consensus is that even though she reigned as sovereign, the true power continued to rest with the young Naka no Oe and his clique, and they would continue to direct the government for the next several decades. And with that we largely bring to a close the Hakuchi era.  The era ended with Karu's death, and no new era was declared for Takara Hime's reign.  The period from the Hakuchi era to the start of the Nara period is often referred to as the Hakuho period.  An unofficial name taken from the names of the nengo on either side of it.  It often is used specifically to reference the art of the period, as more and more continental influence continued to pour in. Next episode, we'll take a look at the various interactions with the continent and go a little more into the politics of the time.  Takara Hime's second reign—for which she was posthumously given the name “Saimei Tennou”—dealt a lot with the continent, among other things.  Things on the Korean peninsula were heating up, and the Tang was continuing to push against those on their borders, both along the Silk Road to the West, but also against states like Goguryeo, in the northeast.  And yet it wasn't a time of constant warfare, either.  We'll do our best to look at what was happening. 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.

In Dinner for Shoes episode 51, Better Bras + Breast Cancer Awareness, host Sarah Wasilak welcomes Jessica Johnson, Founder and CEO of Figiúra, onto the podcast. Jessica chats about how she's filling a huge gap in the market with a collection of bras made specifically for women with augmented breasts. Sarah also discusses some important Breast Cancer Awareness initiatives from other fashion labels that do their part to donate to a cure and spread the word about the importance of preventative care. Finally, Sarah tries Jessica's go-to dish: Greek salad with grilled calamari.  THIS DINNER Homemade Greek salad with Grilled Calamari from Honshu in Jersey City, NJ THESE SHOES Stuart Weitzman Clinger Boots in Rose Satin (available via Poshmark) THIS OUTFIT  LaQuan Smith Utility Cropped Vest via Rent the Runway Hudson Jeans Tie Waist Wide Leg Barefoot Trouser THESE CHAPTERS 1:57 - THE OUTFIT BEHIND THE SHOES 5:24 - FIGIÚRA INTERVIEW 34:44 - BREAST CANCER AWARENESS BRANDS 43:20 - GREEK SALAD WITH GRILLED CALAMARI THIS PRODUCTION is created, written, hosted, and produced by Sarah Wasilak. is creative directed and executive produced by Megan Kai. is tech supervised by Nick Zanetis. includes photos and videos in chronological order by Figiúra, Hûha, The Bra Recyclers, ROÁR, Ayure, Hutch, Lane Bryant, and BedHead PJs. is made with love. Dinner for Shoes is a fashion podcast for people who love food, hosted by editor Sarah Wasilak. With appearances by her cats, Trish and Kit, and agendas that almost always go to shit, we aim to dive into a discussion about fashion and style and break some bread in each episode.  Dinner for Shoes podcast episodes are released weekly on YouTube, Spotify, and Apple. You can follow along for updates, teasers, and more on TikTok, Instagram, and Facebook. If there are any fashion topics you've been pondering or good eats you think Sarah should try, don't hesitate to send a DM or an email. Dinner for Shoes is an original by The Kai Productions. Follow Dinner for Shoes: @dinnerforshoes on Instagram, TikTok, Facebook, and YouTube  Follow host Sarah Wasilak: @slwasz on Instagram  Follow producer Megan Kai: @megankaii on Instagram  Get in touch: dinnerforshoes@gmail.com To make this video more accessible, check out YouDescribe, a web-based platform that offers a free audio description tool for viewers who are blind or visually impaired.

Lesley Downer's fascination with Japan's most famous poet took her from Tokyo's drab industrial concrete into what was then a seldom-visited part of Honshu. It was a place of sake-drenched poetry sessions in thatched-roof highland villages, and holy mountains where modern ascetics continued to roam between their past and future lives in search of atonement. Her book about this journey, On The Narrow Road to the Deep North, was reissued by Eland in 2024. We spoke about Matsuo Basho's haiku, mountain ascetics and Japan's undiscovered north.

So the year 649 was so bad that they went and changed the whole calendar to forget about it!  In 650 a white pheasant is brought to the court, and they sieze on that as a chance to rename the era from Taika to Hakuchi.  That should make things better, right? This episode we talk about this event--their reasoning, as well as what is recorded as having happened.  We also take a look at the completion of the Ajifu no Miya and how it was renamed to the Naniwa no Toyosaki no Nagara no Miya, or the Toyosaki Nagara Palace of Naniwa.  This is thought to be what we know today as the Early Naniwa Palace, and it was a real change, and, in many ways, the physical manifestation of the Taika era reforms. For photos and more, check out https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-113 Rough Transcript: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is Episode 113: The White Pheasant.   The officials of the court stood sentinel at the palace gates, a formidable line of authority draped in flowing, vibrant robes that signified their rank. Each step down the line revealed a cascade of colors, a living tapestry of power and prestige. Only the envoys from distant shores stood apart, their unique uniforms adding an exotic flair to the proceedings, as well as a certain legitimacy as outside witnesses.   The air crackled with anticipation as the crowd waited, their breath held, until four figures emerged, bearing aloft a magnificent litter adorned with intricate decorations that shimmered as they caught the sun's rays.   Upon that litter rested a cage, and within it,a dazzling white pheasant, plucked from the untamed wilds of Anato. Whispers rippled through the throng; some questioned the significance of this fragile creature, while others dared to see it as a divine omen. Was this bird as pure as the tales had promised? The capital had buzzed with rumors ever since its unexpected arrival, and those in the back stretched their necks, desperate for a glimpse of this rare marvel.   The past year had cast a shadow over the Yamato court, leaving the air thick with uncertainty. Yet, this ethereal bird, shimmering with the promise of renewal, seemed to herald a shift—an opportunity for rebirth that everyone craved.  At the very least it was a much needed distraction from everything that had previously occurred.   As the litter glided past, the courtiers bowed deeply in reverence, forming two disciplined lines that followed through the grand gates. Together, they marched into the palace, hearts pounding with hope. They were not just entering a building; they were stepping into a new era, one that, with a whisper of fate, could rise above the struggles of the past.     This episode we kick off the start of a new era—the Hakuchi era, or the era of the White Pheasant.  It followed the Taika era, and it does have a different feel.  It is less about new edicts and more about how things were shaking out and coming together.  And one of the things that was coming together was the Nagara no Toyosaki palace, which is believed to be the same one known to archaeologists as the “Early Naniwa Palace” unearthed in Ohosaka and dated to the mid-7th century.  We'll actually start with a look at this palace, continuing our discussion from last episode, as our sovereign, Karu, aka Koutoku Tennou, seems to have been a bit crazy about all of his palaces, and figuring out just which is which can be an issue in and of itself. We'll also touch on the start of this new era, and look at why and what it meant to come up with a new era name—a new “nengou”—in the middle of a reign like this.  And so we catch ourselves at the start of the year 650, still, technically, in the Taika era.  The year started well enough, with the sovereign celebrating the new year at the Ajifu palace and then coming straight back—the Ajifu palace was apparently yet another new palace and it seems construction had only recently begun.  Now, There is some confusion between the Ajifu palace and the Toyosaki palace.  The Ajifu palace is traditionally thought to have been located on the opposite side o f the Yodo river, in the area of modern Settsu city, on the site of what became the Ajifu Shrine.  Others have suggested that it was actually on the Kanimachi plateau, which is where the Toyosaki palace was.  Notably the “Toyosaki” palace is not located anywhere near the modern area of “Toyosaki” with which it seems to share a name.  From what little information we have, it seems to have been quite the complex.  As to why he would need yet another palace, I could not say.  And yet, later we see that the Ajifu Palace is eventually named the Nagara Toyosaki Palace.  So are they one and the same?  Did they move the Toyosaki Palace?  Or did they build the Toyosaki Palace and then *rebuild* it as the Ajifu Palace—aka the Nagara Toyosaki Palace? At this point the way that the Chronicles talk about it, the Ajifu palace site seems to have been almost purely conceptual, while previous accounts seem to indicate that the Toyosaki Palace was already in use.  That would have made for an interesting New Year's celebration, probably in temporary buildings erected quickly amongst the grass and fields, with some nearby tomb mounds that would need to be leveled or moved to make room, we are later told.  It seems they were still surveying the site, but I guess Karu really was looking for a change.  And so he celebrated the new year at the Ajifu palace, but quickly returned back to wherever the work of the government was actually occurring. As to where that was, well, we talked last episode about all of Karu's meanderings from one palace to the other.  The Nihon Shoki text itself is not exactly clear, as I read it.  It doesn't help that the term for palace, or “miya”, appears to refer to both a complex and a single residence, without a clear distinction given between the two.  And so, though I mentioned it last episode, let's recap what we know about the palaces this reign. So in 645, we are told that Karu decided upon Naniwa and we are told that this is the “Toyosaki” palace.  Then in 646, Karu took up residence in the “detached” palace of Koshiro in Sayabe, Naniwa.  This was likely him repurposing the Miyake, the government offices with the royal granaries.  He was only there for about two months, though, before he returned.  Then, in the third month of 646, he issues an amnesty claiming to have taken up residence in the new palace—but we aren't told which one. In 647, two years into the reign, the government offices at Wogohori are torn down and a palace was built there.  Now this is somewhat confusing because there appear to be two government districts:  Wogohori and Ohogohori.  You'll probably notice how similar these two sound, though it may have been more like “wogopori” and “opogopori”. Back in the day.  Wo-gohori, or the “Small District”, is mentioned once, but mainly just as a place name.  Ohogohori, or the “Big District” has previously shown up as the place with government offices for the envoys from overseas.   Confusing matters, in a later entry, Karu eventually moves out of the palace at Oho-gohori and into the palace that would be known as the Nagara Toyosaki palace.  So was he at Wogohori and then later at Ohogohori?  Or was there some scribal error such that the two got confused? And then in 648 we are told that Karu moved into the Toyosaki palace in Naniwa.  Two years later, in 650, and he is now celebrating New Year's at the Ajifu palace, which may refer to a location on the other side of the Yodo river, but is likely in the spot we now think of as the Nagara Toyosaki Palace.  We then know that in 651 they were still building a palace.  And it isn't until the last day of 651 that Karu would formally move from Ohogori into the Ajifu palace, which we are told was then renamed the Nagara no Toyosaki no Miya---the Nagara Toyosaki Palace. I have several thoughts on all of this.  One, is that there may have been two “Toyosaki” palaces—there was the Toyosaki palace that he first moved into, and then there is the Nagara Toyosaki Palace.  “Nagara” appears to mean something like “Long Handle”, but other than that, I don't know that there is a good translation.  It may refer to the fact that it was meant to last longer, or that it was even larger than the previous palace.  It may even be that the original Toyosaki Palace was just a few of the buildings, and that eventually it grew into the larger Nagara Toyosaki Palace, but if that is the case, what is up with term “Ajifu”?  Was that just one building in the larger palace?  Or are earlier mentions of “Toyosaki” anachronistic, and perhaps it wasn't until the entire thing was complete that they gave it that name?  Many modern accounts appear to conflate the Toyosaki palace with the Nagara no Toyosaki Palace, saying it just took that long to build.  That would imply that the Ajifu palace really was there on the Kamimachi plateau, at the known Naniwa palace site.  Alternatively, “Nagara” could possibly have been a reference to the fact that the Ajifu palace was an extension of the larger Toyosaki complex, possibly built out of the government offices of either Wogohori or Ohogohori. For all that we don't know exactly what was happening here, we have a pretty good idea in the archaeological record about at least one of the palace sites on the Kamimachi plateau.  This site has been identified as the Toyosaki palace of Karu, aka Koutoku Tennou, and it would actually be reused at a later date.  Sure enough, there are remains of at least two palace complexes on the site, with the one from our period known as the “Early Naniwa Palace” site. Based on its size and layout, this Early Naniwa palace was the first of its kind.  Previous palaces in Asuka had not dissimilar designs in terms of the general arrangement, but this clearly made use of the structure of continental style palace complexes, and was likely intended to be a new, permanent capital. The north of the palace complex consisted of a rectangular, walled section 185 meters east to west and 200 meters north to south, making up the “dairi”.  That's almost 10 acres of enclosed space, set aside as the sovereign's personal living quarters. South of that was a smaller area with the front hall, one of the largest for its time.  It was 36 meters east to west and 19 meters north to south.  This would have been the hall called the “Daigokuden” in later palaces, where official rituals would take place.  There was a gate between it and the Dairi, to the north, as well as a gate to the south, flanked by two octagonal buildings, which led to the Chodoin, the main working area of the court complex. This is part of what sets this palace apart from others, and why it likely took a while to build.  It may also explain all the different palace names as there was probably a lot of construction for a long time.  In previous instances, as far as we can tell, the sovereign's palace was both their home and the building where state business was conducted.  Think, perhaps, of the White House, in the US, and then imagine that the White House, the Capitol Building, and the Supreme Court were all part of the same compound, with only the barest of concessions to privacy between them.  In this new layout, the dairi was reserved to the sovereign, there was a small area for the official throne room, and then south of that was the Chodoin, the court hall complex. This was a huge change to how things had operated in the past.  While the main audience hall was still nominally part of the dairi, so the “private” areas of the palace weren't entirely “private”, it was still leaps and bounds more separated than in the previous palaces we've uncovered.  Sure, the idea of lining up buildings from the front gate to the larger buildings towards the back, making people approach successively larger and more impressive buildings, generally seems to have been a thing as far back as the Makimuku Palace near Mt. Miwa, back in the third century, but even then, there is no clearly defined separation between the public and private spaces of the sovereign.  There does seem to have been restrictions on who could enter what parts of the compound, with the sovereign's personal quarters being the most restricted, but now there were walls and gates and guards separating one area from another. The Chodoin itself, the main “business” or “public” area of the court, appears to have been about 262.8 meters north to south and 233.6 meters east to west—a little over 15 acres.  Most of that was open space between the 14 “choudou” halls lined up symmetrically, 7 on either side.  These were the individual buildings where the various government officials were to meet and conduct business, as well as conduct rituals, feasts, etc.  There was a southern gate that provided the entrance to the Chodoin and led to another large area with the Choshuden, the buildings where officials could change into and out of their formal court uniforms, and otherwise prepare for or close out the day.  South of that was the main gate for the entire compound, the Suzaku gate, named for Suzaku, the red bird of the south, one of the four directional guardian spirits. We know the buildings largely from their post holes.  They were made of wood, and it is likely that most of them were thatched.  They may have been painted white, vermillion, and green—classic paints that were based on continental styles and which were said to help prevent the wooden pillars from rotting too quickly.  It is unsurprising that this would have taken years—but it is also possible that they built some quarters for the sovereign and then built out from there.  This also would have been key to a lot of the governmental reforms, providing an actual location for the work that the reforms were directing. Of course, there was a lot of work to be done, and the halls in the palace were limited, so two areas to the east and west of the complex were set aside and appear to have been built up with other government offices, suitable for carrying out the day to day minutiae that was required. There is still a question of whether or not they also instituted the larger grid system city layout around the palace complex.  Currently we have no evidence for that, though perhaps they were considering it, eventually.  Unfortunately, with all of the construction in Osaka over time, I don't know if we could be able to find or discern such a layout if we did find it.  For now, we will stick with what we know:  an absolute unit of a court complex that took them several years to build. Getting back to the Chronicles: Our next entry in the Nihon Shoki, after the New Years celebration, tells us that in the second month, Kusakabe no Muraji no Shikofu, the governor of Anato Province, brought a white pheasant to the court.  The report claimed that it had been caught by Nihe, a relative of Obito, the Kuni no Miyatsuko of Anato, on the 9th day of the first month, on Mt. Wonoyama. For reference, the land of Anato was at the far western end of Honshu, part of the San'yodo, itself a designation for the lands along the Seto Inland Sea coast from Harima, modern Hyogo prefecture, out to Anato, modern Yamaguchi prefecture.  It was on the Honshu side of the Shimonoseki strait, which was the main entrance from the Korean Strait and the Japan Sea to the Seto Inland Sea.  The area would later be known as Nagato, which would eventually be called Choshu, an area which any students of the fall of the Tokugawa shogunate are sure to recognize. We discussed back in Episode 94 how white or albino animals—assuming they weren't normally white—were considered particularly auspicious.  So in 598, the land of Koshi sent a white deer they had found to the court of Kashikiya Hime, which is to say Suiko Tenno.  And so the white pheasant from Anato was clearly seen as an omen—but was it truly auspicious.  Here we see the court investigating this, and how exactly they go about that is somewhat enlightening as to how the court thought in general. First, they made inquiry of the lords of Baekje—I would suspect this referred to those recognized as Baekje nobility residing in the archipelago, rather than sending a correspondence to the peninsula and back.  That they went to someone from Baekje would seem to indicate the importance they placed on Baekje as a conduit for continental learning.  Indeed, the answer they got back—whether from a single, unnamed individual or a group of Baekje nobility—was that White Pheasants were recorded in the 11th year of Yongping, which would be 68 CE to us, during the reign of Ming of the later Han dynasty.  Han Mingdi, aka Emperor Ming of Han was born Liu Yang and also known as Liu Zhang, reigned from 57 to 75 CE.  Ming and his son, Emperor Zhang oversaw a period of particular prosperity for the Eastern Han dynasty.  On the other hand, there was an attempt to curse Emperor Ming in 67 CE, which ended with the death of the ambitious Prince Jing of Guanglin.  Then, in 70, Prince Ying of Chu was also convicted of using magic to try and secure blessings while he fomented revolution against the emperor, and he was exiled, where he committed suicide.  So I don't know if this marks the pheasant as particularly auspicious or not. Asking the Buddhist priests, who frequently studied not just Buddhist canon, but other continental texts, they mostly drew a blank—at least on the specifics of a white pheasant.  They did recommend that a general amnesty would not be amiss, as it would bring joy to the people.  I guess if you aren't sure about the nature of an omen you can certainly do something to help it out. And while they weren't specifically sure about a white pheasant in Buddhist scripture, a couple of priests did have suggestions. The Priest Doutou recounted a story from Goguryeo, when the court there wished to build a new Buddhist temple, but could not divine a suitable and auspicious site.  When someone witnessed a white deer, they chose that spot for the temple, which was then called the Temple of the Park of the White Deer.  According to Doutou, this temple established Buddhism in Goguryeo. Furthermore, he recounted, when a white sparrow was seen on the farmstead of another temple, or when a dead crow with three legs had been brought back from the Tang dynasty, the people had proclaimed both of these to be good omens.  So given all of that, Priest Doutou concluded, a white pheasant must be especially auspicious. The Priest Bin agreed.  Bin, you may recall, had been heavily relied upon for his knowledge in setting up the new governmental structure, which would seem to indicate that he was quite well-versed in continental ideas, and he had even traveled there himself.  He provided the court several different reasons that a white pheasant might appear. First, it might appear when a ruler extended his influence to all four quarters. Second, it might appear when the sovereign's sacrifices are appropriate, and when his banquets and clothing are in due measure. Third, it might appear when the sovereign cultivates frugality. Finally, it might appear when the sovereign was humane. He didn't provide any specific examples of how he arrived as his conclusions—at least nothing was recorded—and so he may have been relying on his own expertise.  However, he did recount one tale in particular.  It was a story from the time of Emperor Cheng Wang of the Zhou dynasty.  Cheng Wang is said to have reigned in the 11th century BCE, from 1042 to 1021, and so take that how you will.  Important to us is not what happened so much as what the Yamato court believed had happened—what was the historical truth that they were workin with at the time? According to Bin, during Cheng Wang's reign, the Yuehshang family brought a white pheasant to the court.  Apparently it had been three years without any exceptional storms or rains, and neither the rivers nor seas had flooded.  Apparently the old men found this an extremely long time to go without some kind of disaster, indicating that the pheasant was clearly an auspicious omen in deed. Priest Bin also mentioned other accounts, but the Chroniclers omitted them from the record. Whatever they were, the court had heard enough.  The White Pheasant was declared auspicious, and a new era was declared:  the Hakuchi, or White Pheasant, era.  They let the white pheasant loose in the royal garden, presumably with clipped wings or otherwise kept from flying off, and then preparations were made  immediately to officially inaugurate the new era 6 days later, on the 15th day of the 2nd month of 650. Before we get into that, though, I want to pause and take a look at something here:  The authority of precedent.  Time, as conceived of in the continental model, was cyclical.  There was the cycle of day and night.  The cycle of the year and the repeating seasons.  Likewise the planets and heavens all had their own cyclical periods.  In addition, there was the idea that the Yin and Yang forces in the universe likewise cycled through predictable patterns—the sexagenary cycle, or cycle of 60 years, being an example of a longer term cycle.  And then there was the Buddhist cycle or death and rebirth, at least as long as one remained tied to this mortal plane of existence. If time is cyclical, then one can look to the past to predict the present.   Stories of the past were seen as holding authority over similar events in the present.  Understanding these historical stories and being able to pull from them provided its own kind of power and authority.  Rather than attempting to reason from first principles, precedent was often a more convincing argument. Being able to read and write and recall all of these stories gave scholars the ability to influence events.  Of course, who had time to do all that other than people like Buddhist priests or the doctors of the court? This is also one of the reasons that people would have had to write down histories and, eventually, to keep diaries and accounts of what happened.  Those accounts would, over time, become essential records to invoke for moments like this—and even a record like the Nihon Shoki or the Kojiki would have similar significance.  In many ways, it is propaganda, but not just in how it describes the past as the Chroniclers wished it to be, but it set the precedent for succeeding eras to look back on.  While we may challenge that view, today, for many from the 8th century onward the events described in the Nihon Shoki were considered the gospel truth in more ways than one. Of course, all that aside, we've had plenty of auspicious events before, but why, now, would they be enough to trigger a new era?  Why not just note them and move on? Well, to start with, let's face it, nobody is likely to name 649 as the greatest year ever, any time soon, and certainly not the Yamato court.  The Crown Prince, Naka no Oe, had been tricked into thinking that his co-conspirator, Soga no Kurayamada no Ishikawa no Maro, was a traitor.  To be fair, Maro had been more than complicit in the murderous takedown of his own relatives to set up the current government, and history has time and again suggested that those who put someone on the throne can just as easily take them off it.  That's why they are often either brought deeper into the inner circle, or removed—either physically or more euphemistically.  In this case, though, it seems that fears of Naka no Oe and others were unjustified, and they sent the royal troops after an innocent man; or at least a man as innocent as any of the other elites at that time.  After all, the wealth of the elites came from the rice fields that they owned—or that were at least designated for their stipends—and they certainly weren't working those fields themselves, so make of that what you will. All of that had led to the death of Maro, his family, and the rest of his household.  That, in turn, led to the death of his daughter, Miyatsuko Hime, who was married to Naka no Oe himself.  When they finally did realize what had happened, the best justice they could figure out was to send the scandal-mongering Soga no Musa out to Tsukushi in a form of luxurious banishment.  Demotion by promotion, as he was made the Viceroy of Tsukushi, the top man of the court at the edge of the archipelago. To say that the year 649 had been a bust is an understatement.  Don't get me wrong, it was a far cry from the worst year that the archipelago had ever experienced—or would in the future, for that matter.  But that was scant comfort to the folks living in it. And so it was with some relief, I suspect, that the court welcomed news from the far flung land of Anato, because they really needed a distraction. With that in mind, let us move on to the events of the 15th day of the 2nd month of the year 650, describing how they inaugurated the new era.  Now, if the Chronicles are to be believed, this is not the first time they inaugurated a new era—we are told that year 645 was considered the first year of Taika, or Great Change.  But, assuming that did happen, and that it wasn't just named after the fact, the era would have started at the same time as a new reign.  Previously, from everything we can tell, dates were based regnal years.  Things are recorded as happening in the X year of Y sovereign.  Some of the oldest accounts seem to even note it more as X year of the sovereign who reigned from the Y palace, as the palace was likely more distinct a feature than the names and titles that they used, and the posthumous names, like “Koutoku Tennou” were not actually used until the end of the 7th or early 8th century. It is possible that Hakuchi is actually the first true nengo—or era name—and the first one that appears in the middle of a reign—though even here some say that the instantiation of “Hakuchi” is anachronistic. Personally, I see no harm in taking it at face value, at least for now, while acknowledging that everything in the Nihon Shoki is suspect.  Still, we are approaching a time when the events being written down may have still been in the living memory of people alive at that time.  720 is only 70 years away, and the project started even before then, so unless there are obvious discrepancies or supernatural events, we can probably assume that the Chronicles at this point are largely truthful, if possibly embellished. And so it is we are told of what happened.  To begin with, the court lined the ministers of the left and right and all of the functionaries in four lines outside the “purple” gate, as they would during a New Year's reception, like the one they had just had at the Ajifu palace.  The “Purple” gate was probably a reference to the southern gate The fact that the courtiers lined up at the south gate in the same way that they would have during a New Year's reception would seem to indicate that this was seen as the start of a new year.  It was no longer a Taika year—starting on that day it was now the first year of Hakuchi.  The month and day would not change, however, so it was still the 15th day of the 2nd month.  That means that technically the first year of Hakuchi would only have ten and a half months in the year—maybe eleven and a half, if there was an extranumerary month.  Likewise, the last year of Taika would only have one and a half months.  And if you are thinking that must make Japanese dates really tricky around the start or end of year, you don't know the half of it.  Sometimes events will get placed in the wrong “era” because they happened a few months before or after the change, and people forget that when they are translating to and from western dates.  It also means era names can't just give you the years of the era, but really need to give you the month and date it starts and ends.  Fortunately, most people are quite understanding about the occasional mistake.  But anyway, I digress. The courtiers were lined up as though for new years, and then they watched as Ahata no Omi no Ihimushi and three others bore a litter with the pheasant on it and went ahead through the gates.  The others followed in rank order—with the Ministers of the Left and Right leading the various functionaries.  The Baekje prince Pungjang and his uncle, Sesyeong Chyungseung, whom we mentioned back in Episodes 105 and 107, as well as Mochi, the physician to the King of Goguryeo, a scholar attached to the court of Silla, along with other important persons all advanced as well into the Central court of the palace. The pheasants litter was taken up by Mikuni no Kimi no Maro, Wina no Kimi no Takami, Miwa no Kimi no Mikaho, and Ki no Omi no Maro, who brought it to the front of the hall.  There, the ministers of the left and right then took the front of the litter, while the Prince of Ise, Mikuni no Kimi no Maro, and Kura no Omi no Woguso took hold of the rear.  Together, they placed it in front of the throne.  The sovereign, Kura, and the Crown Prince, Naka no Oe, examined the pheasant together. The Crown Prince then backed away, and the new Minister of the Left, Kose no Omi, presented a congratulatory address. He gave thanks to the sovereign and claimed that the pheasant was a sign that the sovereign would rule for one thousand autumns and ten thousand years across the Great Eight Islands—the Ohoyashima—of the archipelago and the four quarters of the earth.  Effectively, this is a long-winded version of “Banzai”, the congratulatory wish of ten thousand years of life for an emperor. Karu responded to this address by quoting auspicious times that white animals had been omens of good rule.  He then gave credit to the ministers and functionaries, and urged them to continue to provide good service.  Then he declared a general amnesty, forgiving various offenses, and noted that the era name would change to “Hakuchi”. Karu then directed presents to be handed out to the Ministers, the Daibu, the officials of lower rank, all the way down to the clerks.  Each received gifts commensurate with their rank.  Finally, Kusakabe no Muraji no Shikofu, the governor of Anato, was commended, and granted the rank of Daisen along with what we are told were a goodly number of presents.  In addition, the commuted taxes and corvees of Anato were remitted for three years, meaning that Anato would be allowed to keep all of the rice and product for themselves—something that was likely quite significant, though it is unclear whether this means that it was felt down at the level of basic workers or it just meant that the governor was able to keep what he taxed from the people for himself. And with that, we enter a new era.  Forget the unfortunate bloodshed and regrettable decisions of the previous year, this was a new start.  And that is often how these eras were seen.  Whether it was a new reign or things were just going so poorly that the court felt there needed to be a new start, future nengo would often follow a similar pattern.   And there was no set time for how long an era would last.  In fact, here's a little trivia for you:  The shortest nengo in Japanese history was “Ryakunin”, and it lasted just under two and a half months from late 1238 to the start of 1239.  It really shows how important it was to come up with a good name of these eras, as “ryakunin”, which seems to mean something like “humane period”, could also be written with characters meaning “abbreviated person”.  So they decided to abbreviate the era, instead, changing the era name again. This first year of the new era of Hakuchi continued relatively normally.  In the fourth month there were envoys from Silla—another source, according to the Nihon Shoki, claimed that Goguryeo, Baekje, and Silla sent envoys every year from this reign onward.  Then, in the tenth month, we see more work being done on the palace—presumably the Ajifu palace.  We are told that presents were given out in respect to tombs that had been demolished to make room for the new construction, as well as for the people who had been moved off their land.  Then Aratawi no Atahe no Hirafu was sent to place the boundary posts, no doubt marking out the outer extremities of the new palace precincts. In addition, that month work began—no doubt at the court's direction—on a giant tapestry, or mandala, with a sixteen foot tall Buddha image, attendant Boddhisatvas, and figures of all eight classes of beings according to the Buddhist cosmology.  That includes Heavenly beings, such as Devas; dragons; demonic Yaksha, Gandharva, and Asura; the bird-like Garuda and Kimnara; and the snake-like Mahoraga.  All told, there were some 46 figures.  It doesn't seem to say where it was to be installed, though it may have been made for the new palace complex. Also in that year we are told that the court ordered Aya no Yamaguchi no Atahe no Ohoguchi to carve one thousand images of Buddha—but once again, we aren't told where they resided.  We do know that the 16 foot tall embroidered Buddha was completed in the 3rd month of 651: it had taken them approximately five months.  The day after they were completed, the Dowager Queen, Takara no Himemiko, aka the former sovereign, Kougyoku Tennou, who had stepped down in 645, invited ten Buddhist teachers and prepared a feast and entertainment, likely to bless and show off the completed images. At the end of 651, the palace itself was finally complete.  We are told that over 2100 priests were invited to the Ajifu palace to read the Issaikyo on  the last day of the year.  The Issaikyo is the entirety of the Buddhsit canon, and so this was probably done in the abbreviated tendoku style, with priests just reading the chapter headings and flipping through the sutras, though with 2100 it is possible they just each red a different portion, all at the same time.  As it grew dark, the palace courtyard was kept bright with 2700 lights while we are told that the Antaku and Dosoku sutras were read.  Aston notes that these “sutras” of Antaku and Dosoku don't appear to reference any actual sutras that we know of, and posits that they may simply be rituals for home safety and the like.  Given what we know about the fate of so many of these old wooden palaces, it makes sense. After the sutras were read, the sovereign, Karu, formally moved from his residence in Ohogohori into the new palace, which was called Naniwa no Nagara no Toyosaki no Miya.  As I noted at the beginning, it is unclear if this was the Ohogohori or Wogohori, and it is even somewhat murky as to whether or not it was considered a palace.  Not to mention that after the New Year's ceremonies were completed, the royal chariot—which would have been carrying the sovereign—went back to Ohogohori.  I guess things weren't quite ready yet.  He would return on the 9th day of the third month, and even then we don't see a note that the palace was completed until the 9th month of 652.. There is a lot here where we see things that appear to be scheduled so that they can occur on auspicious days, even if everything else isn't quite ready.  So, for example, reading the sutras and formally “moving” into the palace on the last day of the year so that one could host the New Year's celebration there the next day.  That seems like something that was done purely for ceremonial purposes.  You may recall that in 650 they did the same thing. There are a few more references to the palace.  On the 15th of the 4th month of 652, the Buddhist ascetic E'on was invited into the Dairi to explain the Muryouju Sutra, also known as the Sukhavati Vyuha sutra.  E'on was made a lecturer, and there were said to be 1,000 ascetics in the audience, listening to his teachings.  That apparently went on for five days, being discontinued on the 20th day.  And the power of the sutras, and E'on's teachings, is shown in the weather, because the Chronicles claim that large rains began to fall in a monsoon that lasted for nine days.  This wasn't a gentle “water your crops” kind of rain.  This was more like a “demolish your buildings and destroy your fields” kind of rain.  There must have been massive flooding as men, horses, and cattle were caught up in the water and drowned. Given the way this is written, I'm not entirely certain of the takeaway.  Were the sutras that powerful that they brought rain, and E'on didn't understand his own strength?  Or was it a punishment for stopping E'on from continuing his lecture?  Or was it the rains that caused the lectures to stop, perhaps making it untennable for people to sit out in the courtyard and listen as the rains came down?  My rational brain suspects the latter, but I'm not sure how it was read by the people of the 8th century. On the last day of 652, priests and nuns from around the country were invited to the dairi, to the interior of the palace, and entertained and given a feast.  Alms were given and lights kindled to celebrate the new year. But that's the last entry I really see for the palace, as such.  There was plenty more happening through the era, and we'll touch on that.  We start to see Silla and Tang dynasty getting chummy, and we also see some of the reforms still working their way across the land.  We also have Yamato's own expeditions out to the Great Tang dynasty.  But we'll save that for the next episode, as we continue to dive into the Hakuchi era. And so, until next time, 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.

Last time we spoke about the battles for Peleliu and Angaur. Following the amphibious assaults on Peleliu and Anguar, US Marines under General Rupertus intensified their offensive. On September 17, Colonel Hanneken's 7th Marines advanced in Peleliu's southern sector, as the 1st and 5th Marines pushed north, confronting the fortified Umurbrogol Mountains, where Colonel Nakagawa's defenses stalled their progress. Despite reaching key positions by mid-morning, intense Japanese counterattacks continued, causing heavy casualties. On September 18, the 7th Marines, aided by armor, resumed their slow advance, securing the southern part of Peleliu by day's end. Meanwhile, the 1st and 5th Marines faced brutal combat in the central ridges, suffering significant losses. By September 21, the capture of nearby Ulithi Atoll provided a strategic base for future operations. Despite securing important positions, the Marines encountered severe resistance in the Umurbrogol Mountains, leading to high casualties and necessitating reinforcements. By September 23, the Americans secured footholds on Peleliu and Anguar, yet fierce fighting persisted in Nakagawa's fortified positions. This episode is the Japanese Triumph in China Welcome to the Pacific War Podcast Week by Week, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about world war two? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on world war two and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel you can find a few videos all the way from the Opium Wars of the 1800's until the end of the Pacific War in 1945.  This week we are picking up back over on Peleliu and Anguar where the Japanese are still providing stiff resistance. On September 23, Colonel Venable's 322nd Regiment had made little progress breaking into the Lake Salome bowl. With their commanding officer severely injured, a change in tactics was imminent. On the morning of September 24, propaganda broadcasts over a public address system were used to try and persuade the remaining Japanese to surrender. However, only two Japanese soldiers surrendered, reporting that over 300 defenders remained in the bowl under Major Goto. This accurate estimate was disregarded by the American command, who believed only about 150 defenders remained. Following this failed attempt, all available artillery bombarded the bowl in preparation for an attack from the north, altering the appearance of the bowl's interior and rims to aid the upcoming assault. Back at Peleliu, after heavy bombardment, Colonel Dark's 321st Regiment resumed its advance north along the coast on September 24, despite continued harassment from Japanese fire from the central ridges. By noon, they had secured the trail-road junction south of Garekoru. Some troops explored the trail to the east, encountering heavy resistance, while Company G advanced rapidly north through Garekoru, reaching the O-4 Line. Behind them, Dark's 3rd Battalion and Colonel Hanneken's 3rd Battalion also pushed northwards. Further east, the 7th Marines pressed against Colonel Nakagawa's main defenses on the Umurbrogol Mountains. By nightfall, having successfully resisted Japanese counterattacks on O-4, General Rupertus' northward drive had proven to be a significant success. He next planned to cut across the island on September 25 through the eastern trail to completely isolate the Japanese forces in the Umurbrogol ridges. At 07:00, Dark's troops began moving eastward, with Company E successfully reaching the edge of East Road against light opposition. They halted in front of Hill B, which dominated the eastern area. However, the 3rd Battalion encountered heavier resistance from pillboxes and emplacements protected by steep walls and sheer cliffs guarding the northern approaches to the Umurbrogol defense system, making little progress. Meanwhile, to the north, a strong tank-infantry patrol advanced about 1,200 yards, killing 30 Japanese and destroying four pillboxes and two large supply dumps before reaching the O-5 Line. The weak resistance encountered by the patrol suggested that remaining Japanese strength was concentrated in the Umurbrogol Pocket. Thus, at 10:30, Rupertus decided to commit the 5th Marines for a drive to the northern tip of Peleliu. Rapidly relieved by the 1st Marines on eastern Peleliu. Orders to move to the western portion of Peleliu found the 5th Marines in static positions on Eastern Peleliu, where the regimental mission had been to prevent enemy counterlandings. The 1st Battalion was deployed in the vicinity of the radio direction finding station near Ngardololok, the 2d Battalion was holding the islands north of the northeastern peninsula, while the 3d Battalion, less one company, occupied defensive positions along Purple Beach. The 1st Marines completed the relief of the 5th shortly after noon and assumed command of the 5th Marines sector at that time. In order to expedite movement of the regiment to the West Road, the battalions moved out on trucks at 1300, with 1/5 in the lead, followed by 3/5 and 2/5.  By 1600, the 5th Marines had executed the passage of the lines, and the regiment passed through Phase Line O-4 near Garekoru. As 1/5 continued its advance up the West Road, it encountered erratic resistance from what appeared to be Japanese holdouts. The level terrain was devoid of the dense jungle growth abounding elsewhere on Peleliu and offered ideal conditions for the movement of tanks and LVT flamethrowers accompanying the advance battalion. Aside from occasional Japanese sniper and mortar fire, the advance continued for about 500 yards without interruption to Road Junction 15, where the West and East Roads met. This vital point was defended by a small Japanese force, which had installed itself on a ridge dominating the road forks. Around 1700, as the Marines approached this point, the enemy opened fire, which served only to delay the Marines. When the firefight ended the Japanese had lost 20 killed. The battalion continued its advance for another 100 yards and seized the Japanese radio station, whose towers the forward elements of RCT 321 had spotted on the previous day. Having secured this objective, the battalion established night defenses north of the radio station from the beach to the high ground east of the West Road. Upon reaching Road Junction 15 in the wake of the advance of 1/5, the 3d Battalion pivoted to the southeast and headed down East Road, where it established night defenses on the road and along the western slopes of Hill 80. The latter hill, in itself an isolated terrain feature, owed its importance to its location, for it was the only link separating the Kamilianlul ridges to the south from the Amiangal ridges, which formed the northernmost hill mass on Peleliu.   Throughout the evening and night, the forward elements at the radio station were continuously and heavily attacked and bombed but managed to hold against the enemy onslaught. Meanwhile, at Angaur, after a heavy and prolonged artillery bombardment, the 3rd Battalion, 322nd Regiment pushed forward to launch its assault from the north. Finding no route south over the cliffs, they assembled near the northern end of the Milwaukee Railroad for an attack west the following day. At 07:30 on September 26, the infantry launched their assault on Lake Salome, quickly taking control of the eastern rim with minimal resistance. Facing increasing enemy fire, the Americans made their way down the eastern rim to the bowl floor. However, by the end of the day, they were halted by Goto's positions on the northern cliffs and "The Island," a gap between an overgrown coral mound and the eastern rim. To the south, the 2nd Battalion supported the attack by advancing north, capturing the southeast rim and clearing out several enemy cave positions.  Back over on Peleliu the Marines had a very rough night full of Japanese infiltrator harassment. In fact our old friend Eugene Sledge wrote about the night of September 25th and what his unit of K Company, 3rd battalion, 5th marines went through. The Japanese who had come across the road in front of me were probably members of what the enemy called a “close-quarter combat unit.” The enemy soldier shot by Sam was not dressed or equipped like their typical infantryman. Rather he wore only tropical khaki shorts, short-sleeved shirt, and tabi footwear (splittoed, rubber-soled canvas shoes). He carried only his bayonet. Why he entered our line where he did may have been pure accident, or he may have had an eye on our mortar. His comrade angled off toward the right near a machine gun on our flank. Mortars and machine guns were favorite targets for infiltrators on the front lines. To the rear, they went after heavy mortars, communications, and artillery. Before Company K moved out, I went down the road to the next company to see what had happened during the night. I learned that those blood-chilling screams had come from the Japanese I had seen run to the right. He had jumped into a foxhole where he met an alert Marine. In the ensuing struggle each had lost his weapon. The desperate Marine had jammed his forefinger into his enemy's eye socket and killed him. Such was the physical horror and brutish reality of war for us. The 1/5 spent the early hours of 26 September in consolidating its positions around the radio station and preparing for continuation of its attack later in the day to the northern tip of Peleliu. Shortly after 0600, 3/5 jumped off for an attack against Hill 80 with Company K on the left and Company I on the right. The attack carried the hill and by 0830 the assault force reached a swamp bordering the east coast of Peleliu. This advance of the 3d Battalion was of major importance because it effectively cut the island in two. Late in the afternoon most of the battalion moved back from Hill 80 to a reserve position near the junction of East and West Roads. The unit's southern flank extended south from the junction along East Road to Hill 80, where Company I was stationed for the night. Between Company I, 5th Marines, and the 2d Battalion, 321st Infantry, at Hill B, lay a gap approximately 1,800 yards long through which only the 321st Infantry's Neal Task Force had passed. In this gap lay 1,500-yard-long Kamilianlul Mountain, held by an unknown number of Japanese and as yet not even reconnoitered by American units. The 5th Marines consolidated their positions and resumed their assault. The 1st Battalion, 5th Marines, ran into stiff opposition from the Amiangal ridges dominating northern Peleliu. The northern portion of the L-shaped hill system consisted of ridges running generally from northeast to southwest for about 1,000 yards; the southern leg extended from northwest to southeast. The southern leg of the ridges was not continuous but broken into four separate hills or knobs, designated from northwest to southeast as Hill 1, Hill 2, Hill 3, and Radar Hill, so named because it had at one time served as an enemy radar installation. These four knobs were to gain ill repute as Hill Row. The entire Amiangal ridge system was held in strength by the Japanese, particularly the portion paralleling the route of advance of 1/5. This part contained some of the most elaborate caves and tunnels on Peleliu. The battalion had barely started out along the West Road when the enemy in and on Hill 1 opened up on the Marines with 37mm and 75mm guns as well as automatic weapons and mortars. This curtain of fire from the Amiangal ridges was reinforced by heavy fire from Ngesebus Island. All forward movement soon halted. Attacking eastward from the West Road, Company B assaulted the second knob, Hill 2, but also encountered opposition. Through sheer determination the company was able to gain a firm foothold on the hill by early afternoon. This accomplishment in effect served to outflank the Japanese on Hill 1, but Japanese resistance on the last mentioned hill continued throughout the day. An attempt by Company C to seize all of Hill 1 during the remaining hours of daylight was unsuccessful, and continuation of the assault had to await the following day. During the bitter fighting in which 1/5 engaged during the night of 25-26 September and for most of the following day, 2/5 remained stationary on the southern flank of the regiment. At 1600 on 26 September, when it had become apparent that 1/5 could make no further progress, 2/5 was ordered to attack. The battalion advanced northward through the left wing of 1/5, carefully bypassing embattled Hill 1. In the course of its advance, the battalion drew heavy fire from Japanese emplacements in the plain, from the ridges on its right, as well as from Ngesebus. Enemy mortars proved especially troublesome. As a result of the heavy fire, Company F lost four of its supporting tanks before it had advanced very far beyond Hill 1. Attempts by the artillery to give all possible support to the battalion were largely ineffectual. "We fired frequent missions throughout the day on these mortars; the reported effect was that the mortars were neutralized while we fired but that they were not destroyed. The enemy apparently withdrew into the caves during the period of our fire." As evening approached, the 5th Marines occupied a jagged front line. The 1st Battalion, though out of contact with the 2d, was tied in with the 3d on the right. The mission of the 3d Battalion was to support either the 1st or 2d Battalion in the event of a major Japanese counterattack. Further progress of the 2d Battalion was impeded by a large antitank ditch, which blocked the approach to the remnants of the Peleliu phosphate plant. The Japanese had converted the reinforced concrete foundation of the otherwise demolished structure into a major defensive installation. Exposed to the enemy fire from Ngesebus Island and plunging fire from caves and defensive positions from the hills, 2/5 found itself in a very unenviable situation. Further south, after some necessary adjustments, Dark's forces assaulted Hill B with two battalions. Initially repelled, Dark then sent a task force led by Captain George Neal to attack from the north. After a complex maneuver north and then south, the Neal Task Force attacked Hill B just as other elements of the 321st fought their way to the top through challenging terrain. The hill eventually fell to the Americans, completing the isolation of the Umurbrogol Pocket. By the end of the day, the island was divided in two places, leaving Nakagawa's determined defenders isolated in two major pockets. On September 27, with the Umurbrogol Pocket now contained, the 5th Marines continued their operations against Amiangal Mountain. At the same time, the 1st Battalion, 321st Regiment advanced north from the Hill B area to close the long gap along East Road up to Hill 80. Dark's infantrymen secured Kamilianlul Mountain with minimal resistance and then moved towards the Marines' road junction.  The 2d Battalion was to find progress extremely rough for the remainder of the day. First, the erstwhile phosphate plant, which the Japanese had turned into a blockhouse, had to be secured in an area that bristled with snipers. The problem confronting Colonel Harris was a formidable one. The blockhouse in front of 2/5 could not be taken until the antitank ditch blocking the approaches to it had been seized. This was a job that the infantry could not tackle without armored support. The regimental commander decided to utilize all arms available in reducing these obstacles. First of all, Colonel Harris called naval gunfire and artillery in on Ngesebus and any other targets suspected of harboring artillery or mortar positions. A medium tank, equipped with a bulldozer blade, was pressed into service to level the antitank ditch, and filled it by 0830. A LVT flamethrower then was able to come within effective range of the Japanese fortification. Moments later, when the flame and smoke had cleared, all resistance from this stronghold had ceased and more than 60 dead Japanese remained in the rubble. While this action was in progress, patrols from Company E seized a small, weakly defended ridge abutting the road from the east. The 2d Battalion thereafter resumed its advance northward along the road as well as over the adjacent ridge. Company F, at the head of the column, soon found itself embroiled in some of the most bitter and frustrating action of the entire campaign. Aside from receiving heavy Japanese artillery and mortar fire, the company faced a series of pillboxes and field fortifications on level ground, and layer upon layer of caves in the hillsides. Even though they were not aware of it at the time, the men of the 5th Marines had come upon the most skillfully constructed defenses on Peleliu. The Japanese Army had utilized all of the many natural caves possessing tactical value, adapting them for the emplacement of heavier weapons with great ingenuity. On the other hand, Japanese naval troops had preferred to construct their own caves with the help of the 214th Naval Construction Battalion, composed of men who had been professional miners and tunnel workers in civilian life. Since most of these Navy caves were located near the northern end of Peleliu, they proved a serious obstacle to the advance of the 5th Marines. Eugene Sledge faced these obstacles and saw firsthand the effectiveness of flamethrowers. Here is a passage from him: Burgin's order to us to continue firing into the opening interrupted my musings. We kept up a steady fire into the pillbox to keep the Japanese pinned down while the flamethrower came up, carried by Corporal Womack from Mississippi. He was a brave, good-natured guy and popular with the troops, but he was one of the fiercest-looking Marines I ever saw. He was big and husky with a fiery red beard well powdered with white coral dust. He reminded me of some wild Viking. I was glad we were on the same side. Stooped under the heavy tanks on his back, Womack approached the pillbox with his assistant just out of the line of our fire. When they got about fifteen yards from the target, we ceased firing. The assistant reached up and turned a valve on the flamethrower. Womack then aimed the nozzle at the opening made by the 75mm gun. He pressed the trigger. With a whoooooooosh the flame leaped at the opening. Some muffled screams, then all quiet. Even the stoic Japanese couldn't suppress the agony of death by fire and suffocation. But they were no more likely to surrender to us than we would have been to them had we ever been confronted with the possibility of surrender. In fighting the Japanese, surrender was not one of our options.  Sheer courage and heroism in themselves proved inadequate for the task. In the course of the morning of 27 September, Company F seized the two ridges forming the northwestern anchor of the Amiangal system and established observation posts on the crests. But this did not solve the problem of what to do about the Japanese occupying the caves about half way up the hill. Marine casualties mounted steadily, and evacuation of the wounded became more and more difficult. Since the cave openings completely dominated the road leading past the northernmost ridge of Peleliu, the advance of the entire 2d Battalion ground to a halt. The first tank attempting to squeeze through the narrow gap between the hill and the northwestern shore was hit, and the Marines occupying the crest of the hill were powerless to cope with the caves underneath. Although the Americans now controlled the northern shore and blocked further enemy reinforcements, skilled Japanese miners continued their resistance underground. What the Marines did not know was that they were facing the most comprehensive cave system on Peleliu which was the underground home of the Japanese naval construction units who were, luckily for the Marines, better miners than infantrymen. The Japanese Army had utilized all of the many natural caves possessing tactical value, adapting them for the emplacement of heavier weapons with great ingenuity. On the other hand, Japanese naval troops had preferred to construct their own caves with the help of the 214th Naval Construction Battalion, composed of men who had been professional miners and tunnel workers in civilian life. Since most of these Navy caves were located near the northern end of Peleliu, they proved a serious obstacle to the advance of the 5th Marines. In the end, it would take weeks for the Marines to finally quash all resistance on Akarakoro Point, then only by blasting closed all the tunnel entrances, sealing the Japanese defenders inside to their fate. To the south, Harris' 1st Battalion pressed on with their attack on the mountain's southern leg, successfully capturing Hill 1. Meanwhile, the 322nd Regiment resumed its assault on the Lake Salome bowl, fighting to secure the base of the north rim but encountering less resistance in the south as most Japanese defenders had been evacuated towards Romauldo. The following day, despite a successful enemy mortar barrage that initially forced a temporary withdrawal and reorganization, the Americans cleared the entire bowl floor of Japanese troops, isolating Goto's remaining forces in the Romauldo area. This progress enabled the 322nd to launch a final coordinated attack on October 1, with its three battalions trapping the enemy in the Romauldo Pocket, though they were unable to penetrate Goto's final defenses. On September 28 at Peleliu, while Dark's 1st Battalion engaged Japanese infiltrators while mopping up the Kamilianlul Mountain area, Harris' 1st and 2nd Battalions continued their assault on Amiangal and successfully captured Hill 3. This action isolated the remaining Japanese forces at Radar Hill. Meanwhile, the 3rd Battalion, 5th Marines executed a successful landing on Ngesebus Island with minimal resistance after a comprehensive artillery, air, and naval bombardment.  The curtain on the drama of Ngesebus opened on the morning of September 28, when the massed fire of five artillery battalions from Peleliu, as well as heavy fire from warships and aircraft, blanketed the island. Near the northwestern shore of Peleliu, an impressive gathering of high-ranking officers had assembled to witness the operation. The group included such notables as Admiral Fort, and Generals Julian C. Smith, Geiger, Rupertus, Mueller, Oliver P. Smith, and Bell. The weather was cool and cloudy and interspersed with frequent rain squalls. For the Corsair pilots of VMF-114, air support for the Ngesebus landings represented a very interesting and original assignment. The operation marked the beginning of combat work for the squadron, which had reached Peleliu only two days earlier. At 06:30, the Corsairs hit the airstrip on Ngesebus with 500-pound bombs and strafed the entire island as well as Kongauru to the northeast. "Strafing runs were made just a few feet off the deck and a hail of lead laid all over the island." At 08:40, 20 Corsairs preceded the landing craft and gave the island another heavy strafing. In the course of this attack, Japanese mortar positions were spotted and one especially prominent square blockhouse with an iron door was fired on and neutralized. Whenever aircraft were not directly over the island, the artillery on Peleliu and naval guns offshore gave Ngesebus a heavy going over, starting at 07:00 and concluding at 09:05. Both quick and delay fuzes were used. Observers reported that the island was completely covered with fire. In the course of the preliminary bombardment, naval gunfire ships pounded the northern portion of Ngesebus and continued to fire on that part of the island throughout the landing. The Marines advanced inland, swiftly securing the airstrip and the eastern portion of Ngesebus. One platoon then landed on Kongauru and Murphy islands to secure them against light opposition. However, the attack to the northwest encountered strong resistance from Japanese forces entrenched in caves and dugouts, prompting the deployment of tanks to support the Marine assault. By 5:00 PM, nearly all of Ngesebus was under American control, with only a few hundred yards at the extreme northwestern tip remaining in Japanese hands and some caves on the ridges still needing to be cleared.  The 3d Battalion spent a relatively quiet night on Ngesebus. On the morning of 29 September, Companies I and K resumed the attack. Progress was normal until the two companies had nearly reached the northern tip of Ngesebus, when a 75mm gun opened up at point blank range. The Marines quickly destroyed this weapon and went on to overcome the rest of the resistance on the island. At 1500, 29 September, Ngesebus was declared secure. An hour later, 2/321 relieved the Marines and completed mopping up. Having accomplished the mission on the island, 3/5 returned to Peleliu. The battalion had secured the island at a cost of 15 killed and 33 wounded. In return, the Marines killed or captured 470 Japanese. Infantrymen of 2/321 were to account for another hundred of the enemy during the ensuing mop-up. Eugene Sledge wrote this about the final capture of Ngesebus: The next morning, again with the help of tanks and am-tracs, our battalion took most of the remainder of Ngesebus. Our casualties were remarkably low for the number of Japanese we killed.* In midafternoon we learned that an army unit would relieve us shortly and complete the job on the northern end of Ngesebus. Our mortar section halted to await orders and dispersed among some open bushes. In our midst was the wreckage of a Japanese heavy machine gun and the remains of the squad that had been wiped out by Company K. The squad members had been killed in the exact positions to be occupied by such a squad “according to the book.” At first glance the dead gunner appeared about to fire his deadly weapon. He still sat bolt upright in the proper firing position behind the breech of his machine gun. Even in death his eyes stared widely along the gun sights. Despite the vacant look of his dilated pupils, I couldn't believe he was dead. Cold chills ran along my spine. Gooseflesh tickled my back. It seemed as though he was looking through me into all eternity, that at any instant he would raise his hands—which rested in a relaxed manner on his thighs—grip the handles on the breech, and press the thumb trigger. The bright shiny brass slugs in the strip clip appeared as ready as the gunner, anxious to speed out, to kill, and to maim more of the “American devils.” But he would rot, and they would corrode. Neither he nor his ammo could do any more for the emperor.  The rest of the 5th Marines continued their operations on September 29, launching a full-scale assault on Radar Hill using flamethrowers, bazookas, and demolition charges, finally capturing the position by the morning of September 30. Following the completion of operations in northern Peleliu, the 5th Marines were relieved by the 321st Regiment. However, as the Army troops took over, the remaining Japanese, who had been hiding underground, reoccupied some positions, requiring two additional days of fighting to fully secure northern Peleliu. Nonetheless, the Japanese presence in Peleliu had now been reduced to Nakagawa's Umurbrogol Pocket, so Peleliu was officially secured. Total losses during this battle so far included 843 killed, 3845 wounded and 356 missing of the 1st Marine Division; 46 killed, 226 wounded and 7 missing from the 321st Regiment; and an estimated 9076 Japanese dead plus 180 prisoners of war. Yet that is all for today with Peleliu and Anguar as we now need to travel to China where the Japanese are still carrying out Operation Ichi-Go in an effort to capture Guilin and Liuzhou. As we last observed, General Yokoyama's 11th Army had taken control of Lingling Airdrome and Quanzhou by September 14. Following this, they reorganized their units in preparation for resuming their offensive in October. Meanwhile, the 34th Division was deployed towards Changning, and the 37th Division moved to capture Shaoyang, which fell by the end of the month. The 23rd Army also made final preparations for their offensive in early September. General Tanaka directed the Kawakami Raiding Unit in a wide flanking maneuver along the Zhukeng-Huaiji road towards Wuzhou, while the 23rd Independent Mixed Brigade embarked on a long march north to Guiping. On September 13, the 22nd Independent Mixed Brigade and the 22nd and 104th Divisions began their main advance towards Wuzhou. However, the Kawakami Raiding Unit successfully captured Wuzhou on September 22 and seized the Danzhuzhen airfield six days later. Each unit then continued its advance westward to Guiping, which fell to the 23rd Brigade on October 11. So far, Tanaka's forces had encountered little to no resistance, but this was about to change. After the war, in discussing the performance of the Chinese divisions supposed to defend Guilin and Liuzhou, the political situation in east China, and the attitudes of the east China commanders, Marshal Hata remarked that in his opinion Li Zongren and Bai Chongxi had kept their forces out of serious fighting in order to conserve them "for the future." At the time, there were rumors that these men were planning a coup against Chiang Kai-Shek. Chinese resistance was light, but with its supply situation improved the 14th Air Force again did its best on the Salween as well as in east China. In all September the force dropped 1897.6 tons of bombs and fired 1281382 rounds of machine-gun ammunition, some of the latter of course at aerial targets. In early September, Japanese fighter reinforcements from the homeland also entered combat. The Japanese were pleased at the performance of the latemodel fighters with one of the air regiments they sent to China. Thanks to the air cover thus supplied, for the first time in the east China campaign they found themselves able to move supplies regularly on the Xiang Jiang, which paralleled their line of advance, and so thought their prospects "brightened."  At the beginning of the month, Yokoyama renewed his offensive, with the 58th Division successfully taking Xing'An and the 34th Division capturing Changning. The 37th Division was then deployed to Dao, and the 34th Division was sent to Xing'An in preparation for the final push toward Guilin. On October 20, this attack commenced as Yokoyama directed the 216th Regiment to advance to Lehecun, the 58th Division to assault the area north of Guilin, the 40th Division to move to Gaoshangzhen, the 13th Division to advance to Quanhuicun, and the 3rd Division to push toward Fuchuan. With minimal resistance from the retreating Japanese forces, most of these movements were completed by the end of the month. The 3rd Division pushed further to Pingle, while the 37th Division occupied Gongchengzhen and Yanshan to approach Guilin from the south. On November 3, the 3rd Division captured Lipu and began preparations for the advance towards Liuzhen, encircling Guilin and opening the route to Liuzhen. Meanwhile, on October 22, Tanaka ordered the reinforced 23rd Brigade to continue its advance toward Guigang, with the 104th and 22nd Divisions pushing toward Wuxuan. Their progress, previously unopposed, was now challenged by the Chinese 46th and 64th Armies, which launched daily attacks against Guiping with substantial air support. As a result, the 22nd Division was redirected to counter the Chinese forces, successfully forcing their withdrawal by October 29. Following this victory, the 23rd Brigade captured Guigang on November 3, and the 104th Division seized Wuxuan the following day. This allowed Tanaka's forces to begin a northern pursuit to support Yokoyama's assaults on Guilin and Liuzhen. After the third Anshan strike, General LeMay began implementing reforms within the 20th Bomber Command. These changes included reorganizing the command, enhancing the logistics system, adjusting target priorities, and improving coordination with Pacific operations. As a result, the frequency of missions increased each month, with each mission becoming more substantial and effective. Concurrently, following the successful completion of the newly renamed Isley Field on Saipan, the 73rd Bombardment Wing was redirected to the Marianas instead of the CBI Theater. There, it would join Major-General Haywood Hansell's 21st Bomber Command, tasked with executing high-altitude, daylight precision attacks to cripple Japan's aircraft industry.  The XXI Bomber Command arrived on Saipan on October 12, 1944, and from the start General Hansell was beset by a host of serious command problems, the worst of which were continued teething problems with the B-29, tardy delivery of aircraft, aircrews untrained in high altitude formation flying, primitive airfield conditions, lack of an air service command for logistical support, no repair depots, a total absence of target intelligence, stubborn internal resistance to daylight operations by his sole combat wing, subordinates in the XXI Bomber Command who lobbied for his removal, and Hansell's inferiority in rank in dealing with other AAF commanders in the theater. Furthermore, Hansell was soon prohibited from flying combat missions with his command, possibly because of limited knowledge of the atomic bomb or the perception that he knew the existence of Ultra. As plans for a sustained bomber offensive against Honshu progressed, the strategic focus of Operation Matterhorn diminished. The 20th Bomber Command shifted to flying missions in direct support of other Pacific operations, with target priorities moving from coke ovens to the aircraft industry. In preparation for the upcoming invasion of the Philippines, the command was tasked with two closely spaced maximum missions against Okayama in Formosa, totaling 170 sorties, along with very-long-range reconnaissance missions. Yet now we have to travel over to the India-Burma theater. As the advance towards the Chindwin continued and the resilient 33rd Division finally crossed the river in late November, General Katamura was finalizing his plans for a withdrawal to the Mandalay sector, scheduled for December. This decision was driven by the intense pressure the British 36th Division was putting on General Takeda's defensive positions at Pinwe, forcing the defenders to prepare for a final retreat by the end of November. Meanwhile, General Slim was preparing for Operation Capital. He planned to stretch airpower to its limits to move four and two-thirds divisions across the Chindwin, along with two tank brigades. After establishing bridgeheads at Sittang, Mawlaik, and Kalewa, he intended to cross the Chindwin and confront General Kimura's forces between the Chindwin and the Irrawaddy. The 4th Corps, now under the experienced General Messervy, would break out from the Sittang bridgehead, advance east through the mountains, capture Pinlebu, and then approach the Shwebo plain from the north. Simultaneously, General Stopford's 33rd Corps would move from Kalewa, following the Chindwin southeast to Yeu and Monywa. Once the Japanese forces were pushed onto the open plain, Slim planned to exploit his overwhelming advantage in airpower and tanks to decisively defeat them, anticipating that the enemy would fiercely defend Mandalay. The combination of the defeats at Kohima, Imphal, Mogaung and Myitkyina meant that by the autumn of 1944, Kimura's role was reduced to defending southern Burma as the northern flank of their new ‘South-East Asia defense zone'. With few reinforcements or supplies to look forward to, Kimura had grim prospects. On paper he had ten divisions (2nd, 15th, 18th, 31st, 33rd, 49th, 53rd, 54th, 55th, & 56th), though this was really seven, since little remained of the three divisions that had been devastated at Kohima-Imphal. He also had the dubious support of Bose's INA and Aung San's seven-battalion Burma National Army, but the civilian population was increasingly going over to the side of the likely winners. Unexpectedly, Kimura received 30000 fresh troops in the period June–October, but his problem was more commissariat than raw numbers, since he was rapidly running out of supplies. Even those he had (45000 tons of food, 500 lorries and 2000 pack animals) were difficult to get to the front, and Kimura was painfully aware that the situation could only get worse. The South-East Asia zone was slowly being throttled by the Allied naval blockade, all approaches to Rangoon were mined, and in 1944 total Japanese shipping losses amounted to 2.3 million tons. Even those ships that ran the blockade would proceed no farther than Penang in Malaya. Kimura chose to deploy smaller units to delay the British-Indian forces while the main body of the 15th Army retreated across the Irrawaddy River. His strategy was to launch a counterattack once the British crossed the river, aiming to replicate a reverse Imphal by wearing down the British-Indian forces through attrition and then destroying them during their retreat in the May 1945 monsoon. Meanwhile, Admiral Mountbatten was also seeking a victory of his own. On November 8, he ordered an assault on Japanese positions in Arakan, with a deadline set for the end of January. This operation was assigned to General Christison's 15th Corps.  I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. The fighting on Peleliu and Angaur raged asAmerican forces struggled against resilient Japanese defenses. Significant advances were made, including the isolation of the Umurbrogol Pocket and the capture of Ngesebus Island. Despite heavy casualties, Peleliu was eventually secured, leaving a small pocket of Japanese resistance.

This week Seth and Bill welcome back good buddy Jon Parshall to talk about the first American carrier raids on the Japanese Home Islands since the Doolittle Raid in April 1942. In February 1945, just before Iwo Jima, Task Force 58 under the command of Marc Mitscher sails to within 60 miles of Honshu to launch the first US Navy carrier raids against Tokyo. Fighting the Japanese as well as terrible weather, the results are less than spectacular. A month later Spruance and Mitscher return, this time to Kyushu, to hit the birthing grounds of the kamikazes. In the two-day fight, American pilots ravage Japanese installations, but the fleet takes a beating in return, with 6 carriers suffering damage. Tune in to hear this oft-forgotten series of strikes in the latter stages of the war in the Pacific.

The journey of an artist is a winding one. You make the decision to start, not knowing where it will take you. Over time, if you're fortunate, you build a career from your work while gaining the freedom to explore new forms of expression, with each project becoming an important and affirming part of that journey.   In this episode of The Unfinished Print, I speak with Mariko Jesse, a professional illustrator who has integrated mokuhanga into her artistic practice. Mariko draws inspiration from her life experiences, sharing insights on her family and travels. We discuss how living in San Francisco, Hong Kong, and Japan has shaped her outlook and creative process. Mariko also reflects on her involvement with MI Lab, now based in Echizen, Japan, as well travelling to the International Mokuhanga Conference in April 2024.  Finally, we explore Mariko's collaborations with The Mokuhanga Sisters and wood+paper+box, and how these partnerships shape her own artistic practice. Please follow The Unfinished Print and my own mokuhanga work on Instagram @andrezadoroznyprints or email me at theunfinishedprint@gmail.com  Notes: may contain a hyperlink. Simply click on the highlighted word or phrase. Artists works follow after the note if available. Pieces are mokuhanga unless otherwise noted. Dimensions are given if known. Print publishers are given if known.   Mariko Jesse - website, Instagram   Nagasawa Art Park (MI Lab) Awaji City - Nagasawa Art Park was an artist-in-residence program located in Awaji City, Hyōgo Prefecture, Japan. It was open for 12 years before evolving into MI Lab in 2012. More info, here.    Yoonmi Nam - is a contemporary mokuhanga printmaker, lithographer, sculptor, and teacher, based in Lawrence, Kansas. Her work can be found, here. Her interview with The Unfinished Print can be found, here.   From Yoonmi Nam's exhibition Among Other Things, as seen at The University at Buffalo Art Gallery, Buffalo, NY (2024) photo by me.    Katie Baldwin -  is a contemporary mokuhanga printmaker, illustrator, book maker, and artist based in Huntsville, Alabama.  Her work can be found, here. Her interview with The Unfinished Print can be found, here.    Looking For Different Places to Call Home, from the series Family Tree (2004) 18"x14" mokuhanga and letterpress   Ralph Kiggell (1960-2022) -  was one of the most important mokuhanga practitioners. Originally from England, Ralph lived and worked in Thailand. Ralph pushed the boundaries of mokuhanga with extremely large pieces, jigsaw carving, and by using fantastic colour. He also worked with the International Mokuhanga Conference to promote mokuhanga around the world. He will be greatly missed. Ralph's work can be found, here. His obituary in The Guardian can be found, here. His interview with The Unfinished Print can be found, here.   Leaf Change   linocut -A linocut is a relief or block print type, similar to woodblock printing. The artist carves an image into a linoleum block, printing what's left.    Central Saint Martins - is a renowned art and design college in London, formed in 1989 through the merger of St Martin's School of Art and the Central School of Art and Crafts, both known for their innovative, hands-on teaching methods. It later integrated the Drama Centre London and the Byam Shaw School of Art.  Central Saint Martins continues its tradition of radical art and design education while adapting to modern shifts in its disciplines and teaching approaches.   intaglio printing - is a printing method, also called etching, using metal plates such as zinc, and copper, creating “recessed” areas which are printed with ink on the surface of these "recesses.” More info, here. The MET has info, here.     Into The Garden (mokuhanga printed book)   cat + jug (etching)       A4 paper size - is a size of paper from the ISO 216 standard, with the dimensions of 210x297 mm.    Summer Blooms (2021)     MI Lab - is a mokuhanga residency located in Echizen, Fukui, Japan. More info can be found, here.    The Mokuhanga Sisters - are a mokuhanga collective consisting of Yoonmi Nam, Mariko Jesse, Lucy May Schofield, Melissa Schulenberg, Kate MacDonagh, Katie Baldwin, Mia-O, Patty Hudak, and Natasha Norman. Instagram   Masaban - was the exhibition held at the Udatsu Paper Museum in Echizen, Fukui, Japan in April, 2024. More info can be found, here.  Udatsu Paper & Craft Museum - is a museum dedicated to washi and its history. More information can be found, here.  gomazuri - is a mokuhanga technique where slight pressure is used with pigments too make a “spotty” image, what look like sesame seeds. It can add depth to your prints.  Paul Binnie - Travels with the Master: New York Night T/P 11 3/8" by 8 1/8" Awaji Island - located in the Seto Inland Sea of Japan, has a rich history that dates back to ancient times. It is considered the birthplace of Japan in the *Kojiki* (Records of Ancient Matters), as the first island created by the gods Izanagi and Izanami in Japanese mythology. Historically, Awaji was a strategic point for maritime trade and travel, linking the Kansai region with Shikoku and Kyushu. During the Edo period, it was part of Tokushima Domain under the rule of the Hachisuka clan. Today, Awaji is known for its natural beauty, traditional industries like Awaji Ningyo Joruri (puppet theater), and as the site of the Akashi Kaikyō Bridge, the world's longest suspension bridge, connecting it to mainland Japan. 弁  - is the Chinese character for ben, "dialect." Kansai (関西地方) - is a region located on the main island of Honshu, Japan, which encompasses the Prefectures of Nara, Kyoto, Wakayama, Osaka, Hyōgo, Shiga and Mie. It has the most UNESCO world heritage sites in Japan. For tourist information about Kansai, see here.  sizing paper - at times mokuhanga printmakers will size their paper. Size is made from water, animal glue (rabbit, horse), and alum. What the size does is keep the pigments the artist uses from “bleeding” into the outer edges of the paper. There are many recipes of size, here is one that artist Walter J. Phillips used. Gotō Hidehiko - is a mokuhanga printmaker and baren maker based in Tōkyō, Japan. You can order baren from him, here.  Terry McKenna -  is a mokuhanga printmaker and teacher residing in Karuizawa, Japan. He received guidance in the art form from Richard Steiner, a prominent mokuhanga printmaker based in Kyoto. Terry established the Karuizawa Mokuhanga School, a renowned residency dedicated to mokuhanga education, located in Karuizawa, Japan.  For further details about Terry and his school, here. Additionally, you can listen to Terry's interview with The Unfinished Print, here and Richard Steiner's interview here.  The Western Sky (22.4"x9") 2022 Lucy May Schofield - is a printmaker, photographer, and scroll maker (kakemono, 掛物) and is based in England. More information cane found on Lucy's website, and  Instagram. Lucy's interview with The Unfinished Print can be found, here.  The Last Light series (cyanotype) 2016 Tiffany & Co. - is a luxury jewelry and specialty retailer founded in 1837 in New York City. Known for its iconic blue boxes and high-quality craftsmanship, Tiffany's specializes in fine jewelry, particularly diamond engagement rings, as well as silver, watches, and luxury accessories. Over the years, it has become a symbol of elegance, style, and timeless sophistication. The brand is also known for its collaborations with renowned designers and its presence in popular culture. wood+paper+box - is a collaborative art group made up of Katie Baldwin, Mariko Jesse, and Yoonmi Nam. It is based on their experiences at Nagasawa Art Park, the precursor of MI Lab.  mica - in mokuhanga, mica (kirazuri) is used to add a shimmering, reflective effect to prints. Mica powder is typically mixed with glue and applied to the surface of the print in areas where a subtle sparkle or luminous texture is desired, often to highlight details such as clothing, water, or the sky. This technique gives the print a luxurious quality and enhances the visual depth. Historically, mica was used in ukiyo-e prints to elevate the status of the work, and it continues to be used by contemporary printmakers for its unique aesthetic appeal. © Popular Wheat Productions opening and closing credit - sounds of the Sumida River 2024  logo designed and produced by Douglas Batchelor and André Zadorozny  Disclaimer: Please do not reproduce or use anything from this podcast without shooting me an email and getting my express written or verbal consent. I'm friendly :) Слава Українi If you find any issue with something in the show notes please let me know. ***The opinions expressed by guests in The Unfinished Print podcast are not necessarily those of André Zadorozny and of Popular Wheat Productions.***                      

Reform, Rebellion, and Rats!  And all in less than a year!  This episode we continue to look at the Taika era and the reforms that bear the era's name.  We are still covering, though, just the first year or so from the start of the era--through 645 and very early 646.  And yet there is a lot going on, some of it as part of the reforms and some of it just the normal international and domestic politics. For more check out https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-109 Rough Transcript   Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this episode 109: Radical Reforms, Resourceful Rats, and Precarious Princes. ----------------- Prince Furubito no Ohoye looked out over the changing autumn leaves of Yoshino.  Where the mountains had been painted pink in cherry blossoms just seven months earlier, the mountains were now covered in garments of red, yellow, and orange.  Seven months.  A lot could happen in seven months.  Seven months ago, Prince Furubito had been in line for the throne.  His main contender for the position was dead, and he had the support of the most powerful men in the court.  Then it had all come crashing down in an instant. After the turmoil of the court earlier in the year, life in the countryside was no doubt a welcome respite.  The former Crown Prince had narrowly avoided sharing in the fate of his Soga relatives, who had been killed in front of him.  Furubito was no stranger to the literally cutthroat politics of the day.  Soga no Iruka had killed Yamashiro no Ohoye, son of Shotoku Taishi, ostensibly to place Furubito on the throne, no doubt with the expectation that the Soga descended prince would be easier to control.  Furubito himself had not been entirely out of the loop on that whole thing, either, specifically advising Iruka that he should make sure to send subordinates to do the dirty work and keep himself out of harm's way.  Now Furubito's seemingly untouchable supporters, Soga no Iruka and his father, were, themselves, dead at the hands of Furubito's younger brother, Prince Naka no Ohoye.  Their mother, Takara, had immediately abdicated, and Prince Furubito was suddenly in the crosshairs, potentially standing between his murderous brother and the throne.  And so he took himself out of the picture and retired, becoming a monk at a temple in Yoshino, a mostly wild area south of Asuka and the traditional heartland of Yamato, where sovereigns of the past had sometimes gone to get away. Furubito had spent the last several months there in the mountains, out of the political center, but that didn't mean he was completely on his own.  Not everyone was against him, and he still had people bringing him news.  He may have retired from the world, but he wasn't without his resources.  And there were those still in his camp, who thought he should be on the throne.  They just had to keep it under wraps until it was too late for Prince Naka and his cohorts to do anything about it.   So, with that little snapshot of life in Yoshino, let's get into it.  We're talking about the Taika era, so let's first start out with a recap of last episode and some things to keep in mind, and then continue with the story of the reforms, looking at what else was happening in that first year, as well.   We'll talk about the diplomatic missions from the Korean peninsula, the edicts focused on the Yamato elite and the clergy, as well as the strategic use of the change in the capital.  We'll also address just what happened with the “other” crown prince, Furubito no Ohoye. First off, let's quickly recap: So last episode we started talking about the Taika era and the Taika reforms.  In particular, we looked at how the governance of the archipelago had changed—as best as we can tell, at least, from the evidence available to us—and we looked at some of the very first edicts that went out.  According to the Nihon Shoki, things started with the appointment of the Ministers of the Left and Right, the Sadaijin and the Udaijin.  As later institutions were created, these ministers would each take a portion of those institutions into their portfolio, effectively dividing the management of the government.  Although the Sadaijin, or Minister of the Left, was considered senior to the Udaijin, the Minister of the Right, at least in later years, it should be noted that this system would prevent, at least on paper, a single prime minister from taking the reigns of the entire government, as the Soga seem to have largely done.  Presumably this meant that the sovereign, as head of state, would have the ultimate authority over the realm. Still, from the very get-go, we see that there are positions set up outside of this dynamic.  For one thing, you have the creation of the seemingly nebulous “Naidaijin”.  This is interpreted as the Minister of the Interior, meaning inside the royal house, and it was first granted to Naka no Ohoye's bro and best bud, Nakatomi no Kamatari—the co-conspirator who had helped make all this possible in the first place.  While the Sadaijin and Udaijin nominally had most of the power—and we see them referenced executing that power on a not infrequent basis—the position of Naidaijin appears to be almost extra-numerary, and is rarely mentioned, and yet he seemed to have wielded considerable power and influence.  This pattern of creating or using positions to exalt a singular individual, who would effectively run the affairs of state, is something that we'll see repeated multiple times in the future.  Whether this positionwas something like dajo daijin or kampaku, powerful individuals would often find their way, regardless of the bureaucratic norms. In addition to the Naidaijin, however, the position of the royal princes—especially the Crown Prince—seem to be untouched.  These were another class of elites often with wealth and influence, but who are largely outside the system of court ministers.  In fact, the bureaucratic system of government only really covered those positions by the so-called “commoner” families—elite families that nonetheless were not considered to be in a direct line of succession for the throne.  These were the members of the various be and uji corporate families that were created to serve the Yamato government.  After all, you don't hear of Royal princes taking on the position of a minister or anything similar, and presumably they managed their own affairs and estates as members of the extended royal family, with the sovereign as the familial head.  And then there were the peasants—the agricultural workers and truly common people who were so far removed from court business that they weren't even part of an uji clan or official familial unit other than their village, serfs or semi-free people—as free as anyone was in those days, though they were likely tied to the land by tradition and necessity—who owed service to some group of elites.  One of the things we are seeing in these reforms is a move to redirect the responsibilities of those serfs and semi-free people more directly to the state, with edicts directly addressing their status and their responsibilities.  That's something we'll talk about more as it comes up. But before that, let's get caught up on some other things happening in the first few months of the Taika era.  Sure, Naka no Oe and Kamatari were working closely with our sovereign, Karu—aka Koutoku Tennou—to get their reforms in place. As we talked about last episode, they were sending out governors, hanging bells outside of the palace, and otherwise trying out all kinds of new stuff.  However, as that was going on, they still had to deal with the day to day of the government.  Life didn't just stop while they ramped up their transition to a new, bureaucratic monarchy. One such routine event for a new reign was the designation of Karu's wife, Hashibito, as the queen.  In the fine Yamato tradition of keeping it all in the family, Hashibito was Karu's niece, the daughter of Karu's sister, Takara, aka Kougyoku Tennou, and her late husband, the sovereign Tamura, aka Joumei Tennou.  That made Hashibito a sister to Prince Naka no Oe, who was now his uncle's brother-in-law and, since he was named Crown Prince, his heir.  Probably don't think about it too much. There was also the matter of foreign envoys.  As you may recall, the murder of Soga no Iruka and his father, known to us as the Isshi Incident, kicked off during a court reception for peninsular envoys.  Two months later, we are told that envoys from Baekje, Goguryeo, and Silla all arrived with tribute.  These appear to be separate from those who had witnessed Naka no Oe's bloody coup d'etat, and given the time it took to travel, they may have already been on their way when everything went down.  They arrived in the 7th month of the year, not quite a full month since Karu had taken the throne. This might have been a regular visit, but we get some interesting information from the Chronicles about it.  Kose no Tokuda no Omi addressed the envoys, at least those of Goguryeo and Baekje.  Although it is also noted that Silla envoys arrived as well, communications with them are not recorded.  There was also a slight problem in that one of the envoys (whose name Aston transcribes as “Chaphyong Yonbok”, suggesting that he was actually the Minister of the Left, Yonbok) apparently traveled all the way to Yamato just to come down with an illness.  He stayed at Naniwa and rested while the other envoys made the journey onward, presumably to the palace in Asuka, where the court received the tribute. As for Goguryeo, Kose notes that Yamato and Goguryeo had not had formal relations for very long.  This is unsurprising, given that Goguryeo was on the far north of the peninsula, and would have had to go through either Silla or Baekje controlled territory to get to Yamato, and they weren't always on the best of terms with either of the other countries on the peninsula.  There were some attempts to reach the archipelago by landing on the northern edge of Honshu, along the Japan sea coast, landing near Tsuruga, on the western edge of the land of Koshi, but still, Yamato's relationship with Goguryeo does not appear to have been as old or as consistent as Yamato's dealings with their less distant neighbors.  Tokuda, the Yamato officer addressing the Goguryeo envoys, wished for long and continued interactions, but that was about it. Baekje, though, was another story, and a bit of a conflicting one.  The speech that Tokuda gives according to the Chronicles is likely heavily edited to sound more regal and to be in line with the Chroniclers' ideas of Japan's place in the world, but it is also possible that they were just using flowery, continental style pronouncements.  It starts off with the somewhat audacious statement that Karu is a God-incarnate, which tracks with the idea that he is descended from the Heavenly Grandson, who came down from Takama no Hara.  This same language was used with Goguryeo, earlier.  Then Tokuda repeats the claim that Baekje is a vassal state of Yamato, claiming that they were considered an “internal Miyake”, likely referring to a land that was supposed to be directly controlled by Yamato.  One is left to wonder just how Baekje felt about all of this, but then again, things may have been lost in translation from one court to the other. Finally, Baekje was admonished for not bringing sufficient tribute from Nimna, since it had theoretically been placed under Baekje's care. And here's where I see some conflicting information.  After all, we know that Silla had absorbed Nimna well before this period, and Silla had been made to bring two ships during tribute missions or to meet the Yamato delegation with two ships to preserve at least the fiction that Nimna was still an independent country and ally to the archipelago.  That was all back in the reign of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennou, or earlier .  Of course Baekje would not have any tribute from Nimna, and yet the Yamato court seem to have expected something unless, of course, they were just putting on some kind of show for Silla's sake?  It seems like the matter of Nimna, which was no longer a going concern on the peninsula, was still something that Yamato was keeping front and center in their mind.  Whatever the logic, Tokuda says that the sovereign pays special attention to the tribute from Nimna, and as it was deficient, they returned the tribute back to Baekje until they could bring the expected amount. There is plenty of ink that has been spilt on the subject of the diplomatic tribute systems that were set up across East Asia, largely as part of or in imitation of those systems set up by dynasties like the Han and the Tang.  As we understand it, diplomats were expected to come to a foreign sovereign's courts as petitioners, bringing with them “tribute”—basically trade goods—to grease the wheels of international relations.  The receiving country would reciprocate with lavish gifts on the envoys, in turn, often in excess of the “tribute” they had brought—at least, that is how the central Sinic dynasties operated.  In this way, diplomatic missions were not only profitable for international relations, but also for acquiring elite goods that could not easily be otherwise obtained, and for that, envoys were willing to go along with the polite fiction that they were truly subordinate to the power they entreated.  It is unclear whether or not this went both ways.  I suspect that the Han or Tang dynasties  would not have accepted the idea that their own ambassadors would be bringing tribute to any “lesser” nation.  However, amongst nations like Yamato, Baekje, Silla, and Goguryeo, were there similar concerns?  Unfortunately, we don't really have a clear, contemporary record of these interactions, and can only make assumptions based on what sources do exist.  I suspect, however, that Baekje, though willing to indulge Yamato's fantasies, did not actually consider itself an “inner miyake” of Yamato—though they were a trusted ally.  Most of the time. Which makes me wonder how they took such a snub.  Unfortunately, both Baekje and Yamato sources appear to be quiet on that front. The envoys did not leave empty-handed, however.  They sent away the wife and children of a man identified as “Wisa”—likely hostages being held at the Yamato court as part of the other diplomatic system between Baekje and Yamato.  We are not told why, however, so we are left only to speculate on what actually happened. Later that month, and into the next, the reforms were really kicked off, sending out the governors to the eastern provinces and proclaiming some of the early edicts we talked about last month And while the court was waiting for news to come back from those governors, there was another issue that they were tackling, and that was further incorporating the Buddhist clergy and temples into the state government.  Yeah, if you hadn't already guessed, Yamato at this time didn't exactly have a principle of the separation of church—or in this case temple—and state.  In fact, quite the opposite.  For a little over two decades at this point the court had assumed the authority to appoint individuals at the head of the Buddhist clergy, presumably to keep them in line ever since that one incident with the axe—and if you want a reminder, check out Episode 102. And so a messenger was sent from the court to Kudara-dera to gather all of the clergy there.  That was the temple near where Tamura had built his palace, Kudara no Miya, and it reportedly had an absolutely jaw-dropping pagoda, so perhaps little wonder that it was a central location.  After recounting the history of Buddhism in the archipelago, the court representative appointed chief priests to ten different temples, as well as the chief priest of Kudara-dera.  They then made a promise that the Sovereign—which is to say the State—would pay for the repairs of any of the temples built by the Tomo no Miyatsuko; the courtly families.  At the same time, the court also appointed temple commissioners, and expected them and the chief priests to report out the number of priests and nuns, as well as acreage of cultivated temple land.  Interestingly, these commissioners were to report directly to the state, rather than through the local governors, indicating that the temples appear to have been somewhat exempt from the local civil authorities, though still under the thumb of the sovereign and the national government.  This was likely done through the “Houtou”, or “heads of the Law”, another set of positions for people appointed to oversee Buddhist practice. In the following month, the court moved on from the clergy and focused on the courtiers: the Omi, Muraji, and the Tomo no Miyatsuko, and not in a fun way:  These leading families were called to the carpet for what was seen as a host of offenses.  They were accused of compelling their own vassals to labor at their pleasure, and appropriating land for their own private use, denying it to the people.  This included mountains, hills, ponds, and even portions of the sea, which they turned into their own private hunting and fishing reserves.  They would take prime rice-lands—land that could be brought under cultivation—and use it purely for themselves.  They would take portions of the public land, divvy it up, and sell it off as if it were their own.  Or they would just rent it out, so that they would collect rent on the property and those who farmed it wouldn't actually own anything, making them a kind of tenant farmer or even something like a sharecropper.  Furthermore, when they collected taxes from those in areas they oversaw, they were accused of taking a portion off the top for themselves before turning over the rest to the government. And finally, they would take their own people and build palaces for themselves.  This practice, though probably nothing new, went against the direction the new state was headed, and if it was allowed to continue, it would potentially reduce the number of laborers available for government projects. To be clear, not all of the noble families were doing this, but enough that a broad edict was required.  This edict not only called out these practices, but specifically banned the private sale of land—likely meaning that it was up to the State to decide how land was apportioned—and it forbade anyone making themselves into a landlord. Now for anyone who has been following along—or simply looked at human history—the way that the elites had been concentrating power is hardly surprising.  History books are filled with examples of those in power using it to aggregate more and more to themselves, especially without some kind of regulation.  While the Taika edict treats this like an aberration of the way things should be, it is more likely that this is actually how the system had been designed to work up until this point.  There were elites who operated at different levels in an hierarchical structure.  Those above provided legitimacy and preferential treatment to those they considered their vassals.  Those vassals were left to largely run things as they saw fit at the lower levels, as long as they maintained an expected flow of tribute up the chain.  As long as things didn't get out of hand—no rebellions, famine, etc.—then there was little reason for those at the top to be concerned. Here, though, we are seeing a different imagining of the state: one where the governance of the state truly does flow from the sovereign down to the people.  Those who had been studying the Buddhist and Confucian canons from the continent had been introduced to new ideas of what a state ought to be, and now that they were in power, they were determined to implement those ideas. One has to imagine that this ruffled more than a few feathers, and I have to wonder if it didn't contribute, at least in some way, to what else was happening around the same time.  Remember, all of this—the tribute missions, the governors, the gathering of the clergy, and dressing down the courtiers—all happened in the first three months of the new reign—the Taika era.  But in the ninth month, the court's attention was also turned to another matter, when a man named Kibi no Kasa no Omi no Shidaru came to Naka no Ohoye with a confession:  He claimed he had been party to a meeting in Yoshino with none other than Prince Furubito no Ohoye, along with members of the Soga, the Yamato no Aya, and the Yechi no Hata.  They were all disillusioned with this new reign and how they got here, and were plotting to put a stop to it by overthrowing Karu and putting Prince Furubito on the throne. So, yeah, this is where we circle back to where we started the episode – imagining Prince Furubito, hanging out in the mountains of Yoshino, enjoying his near escape and contemplating his retirement.  Things weren't quite that peaceful. I'd note that another source claims that the guy who spilled the beans, Kibi no Kasa no Omi, instead went to the Daijin, the Great Ministers, Abe no Oho-omi and Soga no Oho-omi, the ministers of the Right and Left.  Regardless of who he spoke to, he ratted out all of his co-conspirators. The details are sparse on just how everything unfolded from there, but we know that Naka no Ohoye appointed two generals to go and arrest—by which I'm pretty sure he meant assassinate—Prince Furubito no Ohoye.  Whether or not the Prince had actually kicked off discussions or had even participated in any significant way, Naka no Ohoye's brother was too dangerous as a symbol around which anyone discontented with the new order could try and rally.  And it's not at all surprising to imagine that there are those who were not exactly happy with where things were going.   The throne was exerting greater control than it had in some time—perhaps more than it ever had, at this scale.  The foreign ideas that had come in the way of books and learning may have, at first, been just another way for the elite to demonstrate their own superiority, but now these ideas were starting to affect the way they, themselves, had to operate.  You could either accept it as the way forward or you could resist.  Those who would resist, though, needed someone to rally around.  Since the Sovereign and the Crown Prince were both pushing for change, anyone opposed would need to find a new sovereign to uphold their own ideas.  To that end, Furubito no Ohoye must have been an enticing figure.  He really was from the old school. Sure, that was a Soga dominated school, drenched in the blood of other members of the royal family, but it was still something that those who wanted to conserve their old way of life could use to legitimize their position. And that made Furubito no Ohoye dangerous, regardless of whether or not he encouraged such individuals or not. And so Uda no Yenomuro no Furu and Koma no Miyachi departed with a sizeable force to take out the Prince.  Which, spoiler alert: they did. There are some conflicting accounts on this.  Some records claim that the attack force didn't set out until more than two months later, on the 30th day of the 11th month.  Others say that the generals were actually Kosobe no Omi no Abe and Sahekibe no Komaro, at the head of only thirty men.  It is possible that both accounts are correct in some way, or that various family records retroactively  claimed credit for the attack.  It may also be that the time from the conspiracy's discovery to the eventual resolution—the killing of Furubito and his household—took a little over two months to complete; a not unreasonable situation. This whole event is often talked about as Furubito no Ohoye's revolt, and if we take the Chronicles at face value, that is largely accurate.  However, we don't have many actual details, and we do know about Naka no Ohoye—we know that he hadn't been afraid to kill Soga no Iruka in broad daylight, in the middle of the court.  Would it have really been too much for him to manufacture a conspiracy to provide him an excuse to take out his older brother and thus prepare his own eventual rise to the throne?  On things like this, the Chronicles are largely silent, and we can only speculate as to what was actually going on.  Still, I have to wonder. Following the death of Furubito no Ohoye, and the suppression of the rebellion in his name, the sovereign, Karu, announced that he had settled on a location for his new palace.  While most of the edicts at this time broke new ground, this one did not, following a tradition that, if we believe the Chronicles, had been around for centuries.  Each new sovereign would designate a location for their new palace, moving out of the palace of their predecessor.  Usually this would beannounced at the very start of a reign, but as we've seen, this reign had gotten off to a busy start, and so we don't see mention of the new palace until the twelfth month. The tradition of moving out of an old palace and into a new one is thought to have typically been due to the ritual pollution, or tsumi, attached to the palace of a sovereign who has died -- often in the palace itself, if they were lucky enough to pass away in their sleep.  Of course, in this case the throne didn't pass on the occasion of the sovereign's death, but there had certainly been plenty of blood spilled in the palace, recently, so I imagine that moving the palace was to be expected. Less expected was exactly where he moved the palace to, since Karu decided not to stay put in the Asuka region, and instead chose to move the palace to the port of Naniwa, where the continental envoys came. There are numerous examples throughout Japanese history where a change was made to move the capital, or at least the seat of government, to somewhere new.  In many cases, this was to get away from various political forces that had become entrenched in the capital region.  Courtiers and their retinue would settle near the palace, and soon an entire area was controlled, physically and politically, by a few powerful families or institutions.  The Asuka region, for example, had started out as the ancestral stronghold of the Soga clan, and for the past century had operated as the seat of Soga controlled sovereigns.  Tamura, or Jomei Tennou, had seemingly tried to move a little ways outside, near the site of Kudaradera, but his wife and successor, no doubt with the assistance and counsel of Soga no Emishi, had moved back into the Asuka valle, proper. Moving to Naniwa would have been quite the undertaking, as it didn't just mean moving the palace, but it meant moving the whole infrastructure of the government.  Granted, this wasn't exactly on par with the size and complexity of the Imperial dynasties in what we now know as China, but it did mean that the powerful families would need to make sure that they had a residence of some sort near the new capital if they wanted to be close to the reins of power.  That meant that they would need to also expend some of their own resources, as well. Also, it would be a good time to provide a sense of renewal for the era.  The Chroniclers added a line, taken from various Chinese histories, that shortly after the announcement of the new capital's location, rats were seen moving across the countryside in the direction of Naniwa.  At its most basic level, this likely recognized that when the people abandon a capital for a new city, that new city quickly has its own population.  No doubt it was felt that the rats had simply followed the people there.  The migration of rats would figure into several other movements during this reign, as well.  It was apparently a popular trope. The movement started in the twelfth month of the first year of Taika, or 645, and would be completed in the third month of the following year, 646.  That was around the same time that word was coming back from the lands in the east about just how things were going with the newly appointed governors.  Giventhe killing of Furubito no Ohoye in the 11th month of 645, as well as everything else that was now happening, the capital would be the catalyst for a fresh new slate in more ways than one.  The building of the new palace, and the need to entreat the kami, that would be used as an excuse to issue a general amnesty -- the “Get out of jail free” card for the governors and others who hadn't quite gotten on board, which we talked about last episode.  They were shown the stick, but offered a carrot.  While not explicitly stated, this may have also been a time to bury the hatchet for the pro-Furubito faction as well, giving them a chance to move on.   And there was a lot of movement to be had.  We are told that there was a proclamation in the first month of 646—a proper edict of reforms.  These are laid out in four articles, and are perhaps the closest we have to a true “code” of the reforms from this era.  And warning: this is where the reforms get really radical. The first article was on land ownership and allocation.  Specifically, it abolished the various royal Miyake and the previously established “representatives of children”—which I'm guessing refers to the various families that were tasked with supporting some of the various royal princes and other royal descendants.  It also abolished various farmsteads of serfs and abolished the bonds of those serfs who owed their service to various royal families; the ministers, the Omi and the Muraji; and general courtiers, the Tomo no Miyatsuko; as well as the various lords of the lands, the Kuni no Miyatsuko, and even down the villages, to the level of the Mura no Obito. In place of these mechanisms of bringing in rice and other goods, various fiefs were created out of the previously held land and redistributed to various princes and officials on a descending scale, with those at the top of the courtly rank system getting the most productive, and less for those further down.  To sweeten this deal, gifts of cloth were also given at the time of the edict, likely as a way to offset any harsh feelings. In the end, this article completely rewrote how land was owned in the archipelago, at least in principle.  The land belonged to the sovereign, who apportioned it out as required.  The fiefs would then supply incomes to government officials, effectively providing them a salary.  Those higher in the court system, which is to say those with a higher court rank, would have a larger stipend.  Some version of this system, which wasn't always as strictly enforced, would continue right up until it was abolished in the early Meiji era. The second article of the reforms largely targeted the capital and the “Home Provinces”, recognized, today, as the area from modern Iga city in the east; to Mt. Seyama, in Wakayama, to the south. It extended westward past modern Kobe to the Akashi area, and north to Afusakayama, on the southwestern shores of Lake Biwa, due east of modern Kyoto city.  These correspond largely to the areas that were traditionally under Yamato's direct rule, and where many of the noble families had their base of operations.  Actual governors were appointed to the home provinces, like Kii, Kawachi, Harima, Yamashiro, etc., with various roads, barriers, outposts, and more created to secure the home territories.  Post horses were included, and this is the first mention of the creation of bell tokens, a kind of bronze amulet with various round “bells” incorporated into the design.  These bell tokens would become a kind of badge of office for anyone traveling, as they would be used at government posts along the road to determine what kinds of and how many horses a given official was entitled to during their official travel. The area within the capital itself was divided into “wards”, or “Bo”.  Each ward would have an “wosa” appointed from the population.  Aston translates this as “alderman”, though it feels like “magistrate” is more appropriate.  For every four wards, an unagachi, or chief magistrate, was appointed.  These wosa and unagachi were charged to watch over the people and investigate criminal matters.  They were supposed to be people of “good character and solid capacity”, and if nobody in the ward could serve, then someone could be chosen from an adjoining ward, instead. Throughout the rest of the home provinces, the land was divided up into “townships” (RI or Sato), rather than wards, and townships would be gathered into “districts” (GUN or Koori).  Large districts were those with over forty townships.  Middle districts were those with anywhere from four to thirty townships.  And districts of three or fewer townships were considered Lesser Districts.  The Japanese for these would be Tai-gun, Chuu-gun, and Shou-gun, but I should note that it is unclear whether that was the actual term used or just the way to write it in the Sinitic style of the Chronicles.  The governors of these areas were the Tairei and Sharei, glossed in Japanese as the Koori no Miyatsuko and the Suke no Miyatsuko, though Aston suggests those were just translations, and the Yamato court was probably using the On'yomi for the names as this was an attempt to copy continental governance.  For these positions, you were expected to be not just good, but of “unblemished” character.  They were assisted by clerks and others who were skilled in writing and arithmetic.  I suspect a lot of this was also applied to the governors discussed in the previous episode, though we did not see such a clear list of qualifications for them and their staff at the time. So that set up the governance of the capital and the capital region, in a model that would be followed elsewhere. The third of the four articles provided for drawing up accounts of the land and people—much as the governors were doing in the east.  They also create The Books, as in the accounting books for the government.  These were to record the state of, well, the State.  How many people, what land was out there, in what condition, and to whom did it belong.  It would be the official register of receipts telling everyone what land belonged to whom. It also defined the townships, or Ri, as being made up of 50 households, with one magistrate per township, as above.  However, given that these townships were in the countryside, the magistrate was also responsible for the direction of sowing the crops and the cultivation of mulberry trees, used primarily for silk production.  It also fell to the magistrate to enforce the payment of taxes, both in rice and forced labor. And here we see just how much those taxes were.  Rice fields were measured by “tan”, sometimes translated as “kida”, which was an area of thirty paces by twelve paces.  That comes out to somewhere between 9,000 to 11,000 square feet, depending on the size of the pace—a modern “tan” is figured at 10,800 square feet, or a little over one thousand square meters or a bit under one quarter of an acre.  From there, ten tan would make a CHO, the largest land unit mentioned here.  All of this was only true of flat land, however.  For steep and wooded land, the various officials in charge would need to make special arrangements.  Afterall, a thousand square meters of cliff face wasn't exactly producing a ton of rice—or mulberry trees, for that matter.  The tax for each tan of cultivated land  was 22 bundles of rice on the stalk.  A single bundle was the amount that a person could reasonably grasp in one hand.  Ten bundles made up a sheaf, so actually it was 2 sheafs and 2 bundles.  The edicts then laid out the math to verify that for a CHO it was 22 sheafs, or ten times that of a TAN.  And all of this can be pretty boring and, well, academic, but it starts to get us a glimpse into life outside of the elite courtiers.  We can see that they assumed a community was about 50 households in rural areas, and you likely would have gotten to know your neighbors, as they were the ones you were planting and harvesting with.  While I'm not sure that a TAN was equivalent to a single field, we can see that four TAN would have been roughly an acre of land—an acre itself being an agricultural unit that was about as much land as a single individual could work in a day. What isn't clear from all of this is what was the expected gross yield of the field—in other words, how much of the crop would the farmers themselves be able to keep?  In later centuries, farmers often couldn't afford to keep their own crop of rice, and had to settle for eating millet and other, cheaper grains, with almost all of the rice they grew going to pay their taxes Besides taxes on the fields, there were also other taxes to be considered, but these were dealt with in the fourth and final article of the reforms of 646.  Up front, this article abolished any earlier taxes that may have been imposed, clearing the way for a new tax structure.  From there, it first laid out a series of alternatives to rice for paying your taxes.  One was the ability to pay in cloth, so for instance, if you had a single TAN of land, you could pay the 2 sheafs and 2 bundles of rice OR you could pay 10 feet of fine silk, 2.5 feet in width—the width of most home looms at the time.  Alternatively there were conversions into coarse silk (double it to 20 feet) or another bast fiber cloth (double again, to 40 feet).  Silk thread or silk floss are not mentioned as a substitute for the rice tax on land. But: this Article also laid out additional taxes to those on the fields.  Each household would have to also produce at least 12 shaku—roughly 12 feet—of bast fiber cloth each year.  There were also other taxes such as salt, etc., all depending on what was locally produced.  And on top of that, for every 2 townships of 100 people, they had to produce a single horse for the government.  A particularly fine horse could be used to cover the taxes for up to 4 townships.  And if they could not produce a horse, they would need to provide up to 12 feet of cloth per household to offset the cost of the government buying one.  That is 12 feet of cloth in addition to what they already had to pay. In addition to that, every person was expected to supply a sword, armor, bow and arrows, a flag, and a drum.  This may have only been for those able-bodied men called up for service, though—it isn't exactly clear. And then, when there were public works to be done, each township had the responsibility to offer up a single, able-bodied individual, and to provide 22 feet of cloth and 5 masu of rice for their service, to keep them clothed and fed.  This was actually an improvement on previous corvee labor requirements, which required one person per thirty households, who were all supposed to support them. Finally, there is a note about Uneme—the handmaidens at the court.  Uneme were drawn from the sisters or daughters of district officials of the rank of shorei and upwards.  Each Uneme was expected to be furnished with one male and two female servants to attend to their needs.  They would be provided cloth and rice similar to laborers, except that the cost was to be spread out across one hundred households, not just fifty. Again, we get a glimpse of what life under the new regime was like—or at least what it was supposed to be like.  We saw mention of taxes and other such things early on in the Chronicles, but this is the first time we really get to see what kinds of taxes would be levied on the common households.  A single agricultural household would likely be responsible for some portion of the town's field-tax, as well as a tax of cloth on their own home, and possibly supporting a laborer or even the purchase of a government horse.  Finally, they could also be responsible for providing for one of the handmaidens of the court. It was clear that the state was extending its reach in new ways.  In some cases this would have clearly been an improvement: there was a reduction in the amount of labor that people had to provide, and things were being standardized.  There were bureaucratic lines being built from the townships and wards up through to the sovereign, providing a clear connection between sovereign and vassal.  On the other hand, this trod on the ancestral traditions of certain groups.  We saw the attempted revolt around Prince Furubito no Ohoye, but after his death, the opposition didn't really have a central figure to rally around.  And so the reforms would continue. Although the reforms at the start of 646 may have been some of the most formal, there is still a lot of change to come and we'll deal with that in the next few episodes. 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.

Welcome Back B-oo's Crew! This we week we take on the sensitive topic of Aokigahara, Japans suicide forest also known as "The Black Sea Of Trees!" Located in Honshu Japan, this location has signs of human life as far back as 35,000 years ago with some speculating even farther back than that. It was also the main target of the Doolittle air raid, destroying 10,000 acres and leaving more than one million people homeless. The forest located at the base of Mt. Fuji has become a popular suicide destination seemingly do to a popular Japanese book calling it, "The best place to die!" The issue has gotten so bad that the Japanese government has had to be creative in how they combat the unfortunate occurrences here. With a horrific 18 out of 100,000 suicide rate and, finding 30 to 100 bodies here a year, its clear how this place could be haunted! Ge ready B-oo's crew...this one will change your views on a nice forest walk!Do you have a story you'd like read or played on the show? Are you part of an investigation team that would like to come on and tell your story and experiences? Maybe you have a show suggestion! Email us at https://gmail.comFollow us on Twitter @fortheboosAnd on Instagram @forthboos-podcastFollow us Tik Tok @fortheboos_podcastHelp support the show on Patreon for early access ad free shows and an exclusive patreon only podcast!You can also find us on Facebook at For The BoosAnd on YouTube at For The BoosRemember to Follow, Subscribe, and Rate the show...it really does help!For The B-oo's uses strong language and may not be suitable for all audiences, listener discretion is advised!https://linktr.ee/fortheboosSources for this episode: Wikipedia.com, travelnoire.com, mentalfloss.com, medium.com, littlehouseofhorrors.com, allthatsinteresting.com, bustle.comAll music and sound effects courtesy of http://www.pixabay.com and freesound.org#paranormal #ghost #haunted #ghosts #paranormalactivity #horror #creepy #paranormalinvestigation #scary #spooky #ghosthunting #spiritual #supernatural #ufo #halloween #spirit #spirits #ghosthunters #podcast #paranormalinvestigator #terror #ghoststories #hauntedhouse #aliens #haunting #alien #supranatural #pengasihan #ghosthunter #ghostadventures

Listen to this episode ad free + exclusive episodes and other content at https://www.patreon.com/voicesinjapanBen and Burke discuss the interesting gadgets (both new and old), Japanese foods, living habits, and even breathing techniques that can be used for enduring the boiling hot summer days in Japan!Sponsors:MaruMoriThis site has everything you need to learn Japanese! It's an all-in-one, guided, gamified Japanese learning experience with the aim to take you all the way from absolute beginner to language mastery, and the best part is you can start anywhere! https://marumori.io/register?rcode=vijBearfoot BarLocated in downtown Sapporo, walking distance from the subway station. There are a variety of Japanese made local and craft beers, bottled and on tap. 21 different sorts of international beers. A wide range of regular and unique spirits and basic cocktails also available. Burgers and pub style snacks. With friendly English and Japanese speaking staff.  https://www.facebook.com/bearfootbarHokkaido GuideEstablished over 10 years ago, written by locals for locals and international tourists. The guide contains information on all types of businesses and locations around Hokkaido. There's information regarding all things Hokkaido such as sightseeing, nightlife, events, services, food and restaurants, entertainment, outdoor activities, and more. Currently offered in English and Thai, advertising space available. Check out website for everything you need to know about this beautiful prefecture. https://hokkaidoguide.comUse our Buzzsprout affiliate link to start your podcast today! Website:https://www.voicesinjapan.com/Follow us and check out our other content:https://youtube.com/@voicesinjapanpodcasthttps://twitter.com/voicesinjapanhttps://www.facebook.com/voicesinjapan/https://www.instagram.com/voicesinjapan/Get in touch: voicesinjapan@gmail.comSupport the Show.

Mokuhanga has the ability to take the artist or craftsperson anywhere they would like to be. From the subject matter in their studio to physical movement around the world, teaching, exploring, and discovering. Wonder and beauty is what makes mokuhanga so special.   In this episode of The Unfinished Print, I speak with printmaker Jacqueline Gribbin, who has spent years honing her craft in mokuhanga and other printmaking techniques across Japan, Southeast Asia, and Australia. We discuss her deep connection with Indigenous communities, collaborating with the late Ralph Kiggell, and exploring the nuances of water-based and oil-based mokuhanga. Jaqueline explains her experiences traveling to isolated communities, conducting workshops, and sharing her passion for printmaking. We'll explore her teaching methods, the importance of community in her work, and how she balances creating and selling her prints.   Please follow The Unfinished Print and my own mokuhanga work on Instagram @andrezadoroznyprints or email me at theunfinishedprint@gmail.com  Notes: may contain a hyperlink. Simply click on the highlighted word or phrase. Artists works follow after the note if available. Pieces are mokuhanga unless otherwise noted. Dimensions are given if known. Print publishers are given if known. Jacqueline Gribbin - website  Shifting Tides (2022) Nagasawa Art Park (MI Lab) Awaji City - Nagasawa Art Park was an artist-in-residence program located in Awaji City, Hyōgo Prefecture, Japan. It was open for 12 years before evolving into MI Lab in 2012. More info, here.    Keiko Kadota (1942-2017) - was the director of Nagasawa Art Park at Awaji City from 1997-2011, and then of MI Lab at Lake Kawaguchi from 2011 until her passing.   Toru Ueba - was a print instructor at Nagasawa Art Park, and was one of Yoonmi's instructors in 2004.   Ralph Kiggell (1960-2022) -  was one of the most important mokuhanga practitioners. Originally from England, Ralph lived and worked in Thailand. Ralph pushed the boundaries of mokuhanga with extremely large pieces, jigsaw carving, and by using fantastic colour. He also worked with the International Mokuhanga Conference to promote mokuhanga around the world. He will be greatly missed. Ralph's work can be found, here. His obituary in The Guardian can be found, here. His interview with The Unfinished Print can be found, here.     Orange Flower On Blue    Hiroki Satake - is a mokuhanga printmaker, and instructor based in Japan. He has taught at MI Lab, as well as given demonstrations regarding tool sharpening, around the world. Instagram   赤絵（アンドレ・マルティ「狼よ！」より) (2022) 34.7cm×28.4cm   registration - there are several registration methods in mokuhanga. The traditional method is called the kentō registration, where you carve two notches, straight another an "L." There is also a "floating kentō," which is where the notches are cut in a piece of "L" shaped wood and not on the wood where you are cutting your image, hence "floating." Lastly, there are removable "pins," such as ones made by Ternes Burton.    bokashi - is a mokuhanga technique, where the pigment fades from a heavy colour to a softer, broad colour. Made famous by prints designed by Hokusai and Hiroshige, this technique is, for me, the most popular technique utilized by  mokuhanga printmakers. There are various types: Ichimoji-bokashi or straight line graduation, used in the above mentioned Hiroshige and Hokusai prints. Ichimoji-mura-bokashi or straight line gradation with uneven edge. Ō-bokashi or wide gradation, Ate-nashi-bokashi or gradation without definition. Futa-iro-bokashi or two tone gradation, and ita-bokashi or softer-edge gradation, where the block is cut in a specific way to achieve this style of gradation. All of these styles of bokashi technique take practice and skill but are very much doable. Below is a fine example of bokashi by Paul Binnie:     The Torii Gate at Miyajima (2009) 37.5 x 26cm sizing paper - at times mokuhanga printmakers will size their paper. Size is made from water, animal glue (rabbit, horse), and alum. What the size does is keep the pigments the artist uses from “bleeding” into the outer edges of the paper. There are many recipes of size, here is one that artist Walter J. Phillips used.   intaglio printing - is a printing method, also called etching, using metal plates such as zinc, and copper, creating “recessed” areas which are printed with ink on the surface of these "recesses.” More info, here. The MET has info, here.     serigraphy - is another word for the art of silk screen printing. Silk screen printing can be in on various materials, silk, canvas, paper.    lithography: A printing process where images are transferred onto a surface using a flat plate or stone.   Yoshitaka Amano (b. 1952) - is a character designer for the Final Fantasy video game series. He uses ukiyo-e and Japanese woodblock prints as insirpation for some of his work.    Takashi Murakami (b. 1962) is a contemporary artist best known for his fine art works and contributions to the commercial market. His works are heavily influenced by manga and anime, characterized by their bright colors and distinctive style. Multicolour Superflat Flowers - archival pigment print, silkscreen, 45 cm x 17.7cm   Margaret Thatcher 1925-2013) -  was the Prime Minister of the United Kingdom from 1979 to 1990. She was the first woman to hold the office and remains one of the most influential figures in British political history. Leading the Conservative Party, Thatcher implemented a series of economic policies known as "Thatcherism," which emphasized deregulation, privatization of state-owned industries, and reducing the power and influence of trade unions. Her tenure was marked by significant economic transformation, as well as controversial measures that sparked widespread debate and protest.    Tamarind Institute - was originally founded in Los Angeles in 1960 by June Wayne, and is a world renowned center for fine art lithography. Established to revive and sustain the art of lithography, which was in decline in the United States, Tamarind quickly became a leader in the education and promotion of lithographic techniques. In 1970, the institute moved to the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque, where it continues to thrive as a key institution in the printmaking world. Dedicated to advancing the lithographic arts through rigorous education, collaborative projects, and the production of high-quality prints, the Tamarind Institute's influence extends globally, contributing significantly to the development and appreciation of lithography as a vibrant art form. More info, here.    STPI Creative Workshop & Gallery - which stands for Singapore Thailand Print Institute is an educational gallery and workshop, based in Singapore. More info, here.    International Mokuhanga Conference, 2011 - was the first international conference on mokuhanga which was separated in two parts, Kyoto and the Awaji Islands in Japan.    MI Lab - is a mokuhanga artists residency located in Kawaguchi-ko, near Mount Fuji. More info can be found, here.    Hiroki Morinoue - is a mokuhanga printmaker and artist living in Holualoa, Big Island, Hawai'i. He is a co-founding member of the Holualoa Foundation For Arts & Culture, the establishment of the Donkey Mill Art Center and Studio 7 Fine Arts. Hiroki's interview with The Unfinished Print can be found, here.    Incoming Tide 30.5 x 30.5cm   Keiko Hara - is an artist and Professor of Art Emerita at Whitman College in Walla Walla, Washington. She is a painter, and printmaker in various relief mediums, such as mokuhanga. Keiko also leads the Mokuhanga Project Space based in Walla Walla, Washington. More info on Keiko's work can be found, here. More info regarding the Mokuhanga Project Space, here.   Verse Space M-1, lithography and stencil, 55.8 cm x 76.2 cm   Yamanashi Prefecture - (山梨県, Yamanashi-ken) is located in the Chūbu region of Honshu, Japan, and borders Saitama Prefecture to the northeast, Nagano Prefecture to the northwest, Shizuoka Prefecture to the southwest, Kanagawa Prefecture to the southeast, and Tokyo to the east. The capital and largest city is Kōfu. Yamanashi is one of only eight landlocked prefectures in Japan, with most of the population residing in the central Kōfu Basin, surrounded by the Akaishi Mountains. 27% of its land area is designated as Natural Parks, and it is home to many of Japan's highest mountains, including Mount Fuji, the country's tallest peak and a significant cultural icon, which is partially located on the border with Shizuoka Prefecture.   Tiwi Islands - which means "two islands," are part of the Northern Territory, Australia, located 80 km (50 mi) north of Darwin. They comprise Melville Island, Bathurst Island, and nine smaller uninhabited islands, with a combined area of 8,320 square kilometers (3,212 sq mi). The islands have been inhabited by the Tiwi, an Aboriginal Australian people, since before European settlement, with a population of 2,348 recorded in the 2021 census. The Tiwi Land Council, one of four land councils in the Northern Territory, serves as a representative body with statutory authority under the Aboriginal Land Rights (Northern Territory) Act 1976 and holds responsibilities under the Native Title Act 1993 and the Pastoral Land Act 1992.   Charles Darwin University - was established in 2003 in the Northern Territory of Australia, and resulted from the merger of Northern Territory University, Centralian College, and the Menzies School of Health Research. Named after naturalist Charles Darwin, CDU focuses on research and education tailored to the unique challenges of the region, with strong emphasis on Indigenous education and partnerships. The university offers a broad range of programs across disciplines like health, education, engineering, business, and environmental science, and is recognized for its research in desert knowledge, Indigenous systems, tropical health, and sustainable development. With campuses in Darwin, Alice Springs, Katherine, and Nhulunbuy, CDU plays a crucial role in the educational, economic, and social development of the Northern Territory. The More Than Human World: North Australian Ecologies was the exhibit which Jacqueline speaks on in her episode. The exhibit catalogue can be found, here.    Balgo - also known as Wirrimanu, is a remote Aboriginal community in the Kimberley region of Western Australia. Home to the Kukatja people and other desert groups like the Ngarti and Warlpiri, Balgo is renowned for its vibrant art scene, particularly through the Warlayirti Artists art center, which produces art reflecting the rich cultural heritage of the local people. The community, accessible mainly via local roads and air, provides essential services such as a health clinic, school and plays a vital role in preserving and promoting Indigenous culture and traditions. A description of Wirrimaru can be found, here via Deutscher and Hackett.    Printmaking Today - is a magazine published by Cello Press in England, and is published quarterly. The magazine focuses on printmaking themes and artists. More info, here.   Arnhem Land - is located in the northeastern Northern Territory of Australia, and is a vast and culturally rich region covering approximately 97,000 square kilometers. Bordered by the Arafura Sea, the Gulf of Carpentaria, and Kakadu National Park, it is one of the largest Aboriginal reserves in Australia, home to around 16,000 Indigenous people, primarily the Yolngu. Known for its stunning natural landscapes, including rugged coastlines, rainforests, and wetlands, Arnhem Land is also a cultural treasure, famous for Indigenous art, music, and traditions. Access is restricted to protect its heritage, and the region plays a crucial role in Indigenous land rights movements and the preservation of Aboriginal culture.   Foundry Vineyards - based in Walla Walla, Washington is a vineyard and art space. It has been hosting artists from all types of media such as painting and printmaking since 2010. It has exhibited The Mokuhanga Project Space, printmaker Mike Lyon,  and the International Mokuhanga Print Exhibit. More info about this space and the good it does for the art community at large can be found, here.    Ozu Washi - is a paper store located in the Nihonbashi district of Tokyo. website, Instagram   Wood Like Matsumura - is an online and brick and mortar store, for woodblock printmaking, located in Nerima City, Tōkyō.   uwa senka long - is a Thai kozo machine made paper which can be used for mokuhanga.    The Japanese Paper Place- is a Toronto based Japanese paper store servicing the Mokuhanga community for many years.  Interview with the Nancy Jacobi of the JPP can be found, here.   gouache: is a water-based paint known for its opaque and vibrant colours. Made from pigment, water, and gum arabic as a binder, it offers artists versatility in creating both translucent washes and opaque layers. Gouache can be reactivated with water and comes in a range of colors, making it a popular choice for various painting techniques.   The Adelaide River - is a significant waterway in the Northern Territory of Australia, extending approximately 180 km from its source in the Litchfield National Park to its mouth at the Timor Sea. The river flows through  lush wetlands, dense mangroves, and open floodplains, providing a rich habitat for diverse wildlife. It is particularly renowned for its large population of saltwater crocodiles.    © Popular Wheat Productions opening and closing credit - Stardust by Lester Young, Oscar Peterson Trio. (1956) © UMG Recordings logo designed and produced by Douglas Batchelor and André Zadorozny  Disclaimer: Please do not reproduce or use anything from this podcast without shooting me an email and getting my express written or verbal consent. I'm friendly :) Слава Українi If you find any issue with something in the show notes please let me know. ***The opinions expressed by guests in The Unfinished Print podcast are not necessarily those of André Zadorozny and of Popular Wheat Productions.***                                                

En l'antiguitat, els emperadors del Jap

Summary: What are Tanuki eating? Join Kiersten as she discusses just what raccoon dogs are eating in the wild.   For my hearing impaired listeners, a complete transcript of this podcast follows the show notes on Podbean   Show Notes:  Biology and Conservation of Wild Canids, edited by David W. Macdonald and Claudio Sillero-Zubiri. Raccoon dogs: Finnish and Japanese raccoon dogs - on the road to speciation?” By Kaarina Kauhala and Midair Saeki, pgs 217-226. https://static1.squarespace.com   Music written and performed by Katherine Camp   Transcript  (Piano music plays) Kiersten - This is Ten Things I Like About…a ten minute, ten episode podcast about unknown or misunderstood wildlife. (Piano music stops) Welcome to Ten Things I Like About… I'm Kiersten, your host, and this is a podcast about misunderstood or unknown creatures in nature. Some we'll find right out side our doors and some are continents away but all are fascinating.  This podcast will focus ten, ten minute episodes on different animals and their amazing characteristics. Please join me on this extraordinary journey, you won't regret it. This is episode three and the third thing I like about raccoon dogs is their diet. I actually do enjoy some of the same foods that raccoons dogs eat, but what I really like about their diet is how varied it is depending on their location. As mentioned before, Tanuki are classified as omnivores. Omnivores are animals that eat both meat and veggies. This is exactly what the Tanuki does. Let's look at what often determines the kind of food animals eat, their teeth. Tanukis are canids, which is the family of animals that include wolves, foxes, and domestic dogs. These animals usually share the same kind of dentition, or structure and layout of teeth. Most canids are classified as carnivores, even though many do eat fruits and vegetables at some time during the year. Takunis have six incisors in the top jaw and six incisors in the bottom jaw. They have two canines, top and bottom. They have four premolars, top and bottom. And two to three molars, top and bottom. This gives them a total of 42 to 44 teeth. This is a typical amount for a canine. In canids, the premolars are carnassial teeth. These are essentially modified molars that are sharp to help shred and tear meat. The carnassial teeth in the Tanuki are reduced compared to other canids and their molars are larger. This pattern speaks to their omnivorous diet. In the previous episodes we discussed a few differences between the indigenous Japanese populations and the introduced Finnish populations. We will continue this comparison with their teeth, because there are noticeable difference between the different populations, so much so that scientists can determine the origin of a raccoon dog by inspecting their teeth. Whoa! That's exactly what I thought, too! The case study I'm referencing measured 65 skulls from Finland raccoon dogs and 104 skulls from raccoon dogs in Honshu, Japan. They took 22 different measurements of adult teeth and skulls. The skulls of Finnish raccoon dogs were larger both overall and in relative body size than those of the Japanese population. Mandible width and jaw height were the most useful measurements in determining location of each raccoon dog with a 100% correct classification.  The mandibles of the Finnish raccoon dogs are more robust with a more powerful jaw than those of Japanese origin. Japanese individuals have a longer snout with longer tooth rows than the Finnish specimens. Molars of the Japanese raccoon dogs are larger in relation to skull size versus the Finnish Tanuki. What do these differences in skull and tooth morphology tell us about these creatures? Excellent question, listeners! It tells us what they are eating.  So what are Tanuki eating in the wild. As we just discovered, it appears to depend on where they are located. I find that fascinating! They are the same animal but their diet varies depending on what habitat they live in. It shows how adaptable they are and this is certainly an attribute they share with the North American Raccoon, after whom they are named.  Tanuki, in general, are ominous, which means they eat both meat and vegetation. The percentage and type of food varied depending on Japan versus Finland. As we just determined, Finland raccoon dogs have slightly larger jaws meaning their massater muscles are larger which in turn mean they probably eat more meat and possibly larger prey than Japanese Tanuki.  How do researchers determine what animals in the wild are eating? Poop! A lot of poop. Scientists, often undergraduates eager to get into the sciences, collect lots and lots of feces. You have to note the area where it is found, the date, time of day, and any other factors that might be important, such as the weather. These samples are then returned to the lab were they will be processed and someone gets to dissect an awful lot of poo!  In this case study the researchers determined that thought the year the diet of raccoon dogs, whether in Finland or Japan, varies. This is most likely due to natural resource fluctuations. In Finland frogs, lizards, and invertebrates are commonly eaten in summer and autumn. Fish are eaten in late winter. Berries and fruits are eaten in late summer and autumn. If we look at food resources in percentages we see 56% of mammals, voles and shrews being very popular, 34% were bird remains, 8% were frogs or lizards, 20% fish, 51% invertebrates, 89% plants, and 49% carrion, which is dead, decaying animal matter. A note on the most common bird remains found in Finland raccoon dog feces, the Common Eider, a type of duck found in coastal waters, and eggs were most often found in Finland's raccoon dogs feces. It is not believed that at the time of the recording of this podcast that the predation of the Tanuki on the Common Eider in Finland detrimentally impacts their populations. Let's take a look at the diet of the Japanese populations. In Japan, Tanuki diet has been studied in different habitats. For the most part, it follows the same pattern as the Finland population with invertebrates fruits, rodents, birds, frogs and fish. In the subalpine zone diet consisted of 90% insects mainly Coleoptera, which is the family that includes a lot of beetles, and these were seen year round. 58% included earthworms except in the cooler months of January to April. Berries and seeds made up 49% of the diet. These were also seen year round with a lower amount in January to April when fewer plants are producing berries and seeds. 46% of the diet consisted of small mammals, January to June.  In mountainous regions diet consisted of 78 to 100% of Coleoptera insects in spring and summer, Orthoptera in autumn, that's grasshoppers and crickets, and Hemiptera, which includes the True Bugs, in winter. Fruits are eaten year round with a percentage of 77 to 100%, except in May. This is may be because the fruits are just ripening at this time. From April to December, crustaceans, such as Japanese freshwater crabs, make up 28 to 71% of the diet with fish at 9 to 27%, birds 8 to 21%, small mammals 7 to 25%, carrion consisting mainly of sika deer and serow, aka goat-antelopes, at 10 to 37%.  In the countryside, insects seem to be the most important food resource year round with available fruits such as persimmon supplementing the diet in autumn and early winter.  In urban and suburban areas, raccoon dogs will feed mainly around human dwellings and have included garbage into their diet. No surprise there! Any animal that has adapted to living in human dominated areas has taken advantage of our propensity to create a lot of trash. Garbage was found year round at a percentage of 72%, with insects, mainly beetles, at 46%, persimmon fruit at 30% in spring and summer, earthworms at 24%, birds at 21% in winter and spring, and Myriapoda, millipedes and centipedes at 11% year round.   This may have been a bit more specific than you expected in our talk about diet. But I found the differences and similarities across the populations interesting enough to highlight the percentages. Plus, someone did a lot of poop scooping and dissection to get this information, so I thought I'd spread the information around as far as possible. No pun intended.  Once again I think this episode shows the adaptability of the Tanuki and makes them an even more fascinating canine. Thanks for hanging in there to the end, listeners, because my third favorite thing about this unknown canine is their diet. If you're enjoying this podcast please recommend me to friends and family and take a moment to give me a rating on whatever platform your listening. It will help me reach more listeners and give the animals I talk about an even better chance at change.    Join me next week for another fascinating episode about Tanuki.       (Piano Music plays)  This has been an episode of Ten Things I like About with Kiersten and Company. Original music written and performed by Katherine Camp, piano extraordinaire.

An account of our recent tour of the sites mentioned in the Gishiwajinden, which is to say the Japanese portion of the Weizhi.  This episode we talk about our visit to Gimhae, site of ancient Geumgwan Gaya. For more see our podcast blog:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcasts/episode-geumgwangaya Rough Transcript   Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Gishiwajinden Self-Guided Tour: Geumgwan Gaya. For the next several episodes we are taking a bit of a detour from the narrative of the Chronicles.  After all, with the coup of 645 that we covered a couple of episodes ago, we are about to dive into the period known as “Taika” or “Great Change”.  Prince Naka no Oe and Nakatomi no Kamako were not just assassins—they had plans that went beyond just cutting the head off the powerful Soga house.  It's an eventful time, with a lot of changes, though some of those would take time to really come to fruition and before I get into all of that there is a bit more research that I want to do to figure out the best way to lay that out for you.  And so I figured we would take a little detour for a few episodes, to share with you a special trip that Ellen and I recently took, reproducing – in a modern way – some of the earliest accounts we have about crossing over to the archipelago: the Gishiwajinden, the Japanese section of the Weizhi.  We talked about this chronicle back in episode 11: it describes all the places one would stop when leaving the continent, from kingdoms on the peninsula and across the smaller islands of the archipelago before landing in what we currently call Kyushu. And Ellen and I did just that: we sailed across the Korean straits, from the site of the ancient kingdom of Gaya in modern Gimhae, to the islands of Tsushima and Iki, then on to modern Karatsu and Fukuoka, passing through what is thought to be the ancient lands of Matsuro, Ito, and Na.  It was an incredibly rewarding journey, and includes plenty of archaeological sites spanning the Yayoi to Kofun periods—as well as other sites of historical interest.  It also gets you out to some areas of Japan and Korea that aren't always on people's list, but probably should be.  So for this first episode about our “Gishiwajinden Jido Toua” – our Gishiwajinden Self-Guided Tour – we'll talk about the historical sites in Gimhae, the site of ancient Geumgwan Gaya, but also some of the more modern considerations for visiting, especially on your own. By the way, a big thank you to one of our listeners, Chad, who helped inspire this trip.  He was living on Iki for a time and it really made me think about what's out there. This episode I'll be focusing on the first place our journey took us, Gimhae, South Korea.  Gimhae is a city on the outskirts of modern Pusan, and home to Pusan's international airport, which was quite convenient.  This is thought to be the seat of the ancient kingdom of Gaya, also known as “Kara” in the old records.  In the Weizhi we are told of a “Guyahan”, often assumed to be “Gaya Han”, which is to say the Han—one of the countries of the peninsula—known as Guya or Gaya.  This is assumed to mean Gaya, aka Kara or Garak, and at that time it wasn't so much a kingdom as it was a confederation of multiple polities that shared a similar material culture and locations around the Nakdong river.  This is the area that we believe was also referenced as “Byeonhan” in some of the earliest discussions of the Korean peninsula. By the way, while I generally believe this area was referred to as “Kara”, “Gara”, or even “Garak”, originally, the modern Korean reading of the characters used is “Gaya”, and since that is what someone will be looking for, that's what I'll go with. History of the Korean peninsula often talks about the “Three Kingdoms” period, referencing the kingdoms of Baekje, Silla, and Goguryeo.  However, that is a very simplistic view of the ancient history of the archipelago.  Numerous small polities existed without a clear, persistent overlord outside of those three larger polities, and even they were not always quite as grand as the later histories would like to make them out to be. Gaya is often referred to as the “Gaya Confederacy” by modern historians, at least for most of its existence, and refers to a number of polities including Daegaya, Ara, etc., and may also include “Nimna”, though where exactly that was is a topic of great debate, with some claiming that it was just another name for what later was known as Geumgwan Gaya, and other suggestions that it was its own polity, elsewhere on the coast.  This isn't helped by the nationalist Japanese view that “Nimna” was also the “Mimana Nihonfu”, or the Mimana controlled by Japan, noted in the Nihon Shoki, and used as the pretext for so many of the aggressions perpetrated on the continent by Japan. These all appear to have been individual polities, like small city-states, which were otherwise joined by a common culture. Although the Samguk Yusa mentions “King Suro” coming in 42 CE, for most of its history there wasn't really a single Gaya state as far as we can tell.  It is possible that towards the 5th and early 6th centuries, Geumgwan Gaya had reached a certain level of social complexity and stratification that it would classify as a “kingdom”, but these definitions are the kinds of things that social scientists would argue about endlessly. Evidence for a “Kingdom” comes in part from the way that Geumgwan Gaya is referenced in the Samguk Sagi and other histories, particularly in how its ruling elite is referred to as the royal ancestors of the Gimhae Kim clan.  Proponents also point to the elaborate graves, a large palace site (currently under excavation and renovation), the rich grave goods found in the tombs thought to be those of the royal elites, etc.  Other scholars are not so sure, however, and even if there was a nominal kingdom, it likely did not last very long before coming under the rule of Silla in the 6th century. Unlike the other kingdoms—Baekje, Silla, and Goguryeo; the “Samguk”, or three countries, of the “Samguk Sagi”—Gaya does not have its own record in the histories.  The Samguk Yusa, which is of interest but also problematic in that it was clearly more about telling the miraculous tales of Buddhism than a strictly factual history, does have a bit about Gaya.  The author of the Samguk Yusa, the monk  Ilyeon, claimed that the information there was pulled from a no longer extant record called the Gayakgukki, or Record of the Gaya Kingdom, but the actual stories are not enough to tell us everything that happened.  Most of what we know comes from members of the Gaya Confederacy popping up in the records of other nations, including Baekje, Silla, Goguryeo, and Yamato.  For example, there are references in the Gwangaetto Stele from the 5th century, as well as plenty of references in the Nihon Shoki and the records in the Samguk Sagi.  This is a little bit better than some of the other groups mentioned as being on the Korean peninsula that are often referred to only one time before being completely forgotten. For us, the importance of Gaya is its links with Yamato.  Although it would seem that Nimna, in particular, had close ties with Yamato it is noteworthy that the Japanese word for the continent and things that would come from there—including the later Tang dynasty—is “Kara”.  “Kara-fu” generally refers to something that comes from China, but only because those things originally came through the peninsula and through Kara, or Gaya.  The port on Kyushu where the goods likely arrived before continuing up to modern Fukuoka is even today known as “Karatsu”, or “Kara Port”.  This lends credence to the idea that Nimna was likely at least a member of the Gaya confederacy. There are also deep similarities in many material items found in the peninsula and in the area of the Nakdong peninsula, including pottery, armor, horse gear, etc.  At the very least this indicates a close trading relationship, and combined with the account in the Weizhi, emphasizes the idea that this was likely the jumping off point for missions to the archipelago and vice versa. Perhaps more controversial is the idea that at least some members of the Gaya Confederacy, or the Byeonhan cultural group before it, may have been speakers of some kind of proto-Japonic.  There are also some that suggest there may have been ethnic Wa on the peninsula at an early point as well.  However, I would note that the Weizhi refers to this area specifically as being part of the “Han”, and that it was the jumping off point to find the lands of the Wa and eventually the lands of Yamato (or Yamatai), so make of that what you will.  All of this is well after the introduction of rice cultivation in Japan, focusing on the 3rd century onward, roughly corresponding to what we think of as the Kofun Period in Japan, and which was also a period of ancient mound-building on the Korean peninsula as well. All that aside, it is clear that Gaya was an important part of the makeup of the early Korean peninsula, and that much of that history is on display in modern Gimhae. Gimhae is one of plenty of places on the Korean peninsula for anyone with an interest in ancient history.  Besides the various museums, like the National Museum in Seoul, there are sites like Gyeongju, the home of the tombs of the Silla kings and the ancient Silla capital, and much more. Gimhae itself is home to the Royal Gaya Tombs, as well as archaeological remnants of an ancient settlement that was probably at least one of the early Gaya polities.  As I noted, Gimhae is more accurately the site of what is known in later historical entries as Geumgwan Gaya.  The earliest record of the Weizhi just says something like “Gü-lja-han” which likely means “Gaya Han”, or Gaya of Korea, referring at the time to the three Han of Mahan, Jinhan, and Byeonhan.  That may or may not have referred to this particular place, as there are other Gaya sites along the coast and in the upper reaches of the Nakdong river.  However, given its placement on the shore, the site at Gimhae seems to have a good claim to be the point mentioned in the Wei Chronicles, which is why we also chose it as the first site on our journey. The characters for “Gimhae” translate into something like “Gold Sea”, but it seems to go back to the old name:  Geumgwan, as in Geumgwan Gaya.  It is part of the old Silla capital region.  “Geum” uses the same character as “Kim”, meaning “Gold” or “Metal”.  This is also used in the popular name “Kim”, which is used by several different lineage groups even today.  The “Sea” or “Ocean” character may refer to Gimhae's position near the ocean, though I don't know how relevant that was when the name “Gimhae” came into common usage. The museums and attractions around Gimhae largely focus on the royal tombs of the Geumgwan Gaya kingdom, which in 2023 were placed, along with seven other Gaya tomb sites, on the UNESCO list of world heritage sites.  Since they're so newly added, we did not see the kind of omnipresent UNESCO branding that we are used to seeing elsewhere, such as Nikko Toshogu or Angkor Wat, but taxi drivers certainly knew the UNESCO site and museum. For anyone interested in these tombs and in Gaya's early history, there are two museums you likely want to visit.  First off is the National Museum, which covers a wide swath of history, with tons of artifacts, well laid out to take you through the history of the Gaya Confederacy, from early pre-history times through at least the 7th century.  There is also a separate museum that specifically covers the Daeseong-dong tombs, which lay upon a prominent ridge on the western side of the city, north of a Gaya era settlement with a huge shell midden found at Bonghwang-dong, to the south, nearby an ongoing excavation of a potential palace site. These museums have some excellent displays, including pottery, metalwork, horse gear, armor, and even parts of an ancient boat.  As I noted earlier, these show a lot of similarity to items across the strait in the archipelago, though it is clear that Gaya had a lot more iron than their neighbors —in fact, they had so much that they would often line the bottom of tombs with iron ingots.  The displays emphasize that Gaya was really seen as a kind of ironworking center for the region, both the peninsula and the archipelago. The tombs, likewise, have some similarity to those in the archipelago—though not in the distinctive, keyhole shape.  Early tombs, from the 1st to 2nd century, were simply wooden coffins dug in a pit with a mound on top.  This became a wooden lined pit, where bodies and grave goods could be laid out, and then, in the 3rd century, they added subordinate pits just for the various grave goods.  In the 5th century this transitioned to stone-lined pit burial, and in the 6th century they changed to the horizontal entry style stone chamber tomb, before they finally stopped building them.  These seem to be similar to what we see in Silla, with wooden chamber tombs giving way to the horizontal entry style around the 5th and 6th centuries.  Meanwhile, Baekje and Goguryeo appear to have had horizontal style tombs for some time, and that may have been linked to Han dynasty style tombs in the area of the old Han commanderies—which I suspect might have spread with the old families of Han scribes and officials that were absorbed into various polities.  It is interesting to see both the similarities and differences between Gaya and Wa tombs in this period, particularly the transition to the horizontal entry style tombs, which I suspect indicates an outside cultural influence, like that of Silla—something that would also influence the burials in the archipelago.  At first, in the 4th to 5th centuries, we just see these style tombs starting to show up in Kyushu, particularly in the area of modern Fukuoka—one of the areas that we will hit at the end of this journey from the peninsula to the archipelago.  That may be from contact with Baekje or Goguryeo, or even from some other point, it is hard to tell.  By the 6th century, though, just as Silla and Gaya were doing, it seems that all of the archipelago was on board with this style of internal tomb structure. Another tomb style you can find in Gimhae is the dolmen.  These are megalithic—or giant rock—structures where typically a roof stone is held up by two or more other large stones.  In some cases these may have been meant as an above-ground monument, much like a structure such as Stonehenge.  On the other hand, in some cases they are the remains of a mound, where the mound itself has worn away.  Unfortunately, there was not as much information on them—it seems that dolmens were originally used before the mounded tomb period, but just what was a free-standing dolmen and what was an internal mound structure exposed by the elements I'm not sure I could say. If you visit the Daeseong-dong tombs, one of the things you may notice is the apparent lack of a tomb mound.  The attached museum explains much of this, though, in that over time the wooden pit-style tombs would often collapse in on themselves.  That, plus erosion and continued human activity in an area would often mean that, without upkeep, there would eventually be no mound left, especially if it wasn't particularly tall to start with. In an example where something like this might have happened, there is at least one tomb in the group that was clearly dug down into a previous burial chamber.  The excavators must have realized they were digging into another tomb, given that they would have pulled up numerous artifacts based on what was later found at the site, but they still carried on with the new tomb, apparently not having any concern for the previous one.  After all, there was only so much room up on the ridge for burials, at least towards the later periods.  This pair of “interlocking” tombs is housed inside a building with a viewing gallery, so you can see their layout and how the grave goods would have been arranged in period. One tomb that apparently kept a mound of some kind would appear to be that attributed to King Suro.  King Suro is the legendary founder of Geumgwan Gaya, mentioned in the 13th century Samguk Yusa, which was using an older record of the Gaya Kingdom as their source.  The area where the tomb is found is said to match up with the description in the Samguk Yusa, but I could find no definitive evidence of a previous tomb or what style it was—let alone the question of whether or not it was the tomb of King Suro of Geumgwan Gaya.  It was still a very impressive compound, though it seems most of the buildings are likely from a much more recent era. I suspect that King Suro remained an important story for the Gimhae Kim clan.  That clan, as mentioned earlier, claimed descent from the Kings of Geumgwan Gaya, of whom King Suro was supposedly the first. It is noteworthy that the Kim family of Geumgwan Gaya, known as the Gimhae Kim clan, was granted a high rank in Silla because they claimed descent from the “Kings” of Geumgwan Gaya.  As such Munmyeong, the sister of Kim Yusin, the general who helped Silla take over the peninsula, was apparently considered an appropriate consort to King Muyeol, and her son would become King Munmu.  This brought the Gimhae Kim clan into the Gyeongju Kim clan of Silla. Kim Busik, who put together the Samguk Sagi, was a member of the Gyeongju Kim clan, which claimed descent from those same kings.  He had plenty of reason to make sure that the Silla Kings looked good, and may have also had reason to prop up the leaders of Geumgwan Gaya as well, given the familial connections.  That said, there do seem to be some impressive tombs with rich grave goods, so there is that. In 1580 we are told that Governor Kim Heo-su, who counted himself a descendant of the Gimhae Kim clan, found the tomb of King Suro and repaired it, building a stone altar, a stone platform, and a tomb mound.  It is unclear from what I can find, though, just what he “found” and how it was identified with what was in the Samguk Yusa.  Even if there was something there, how had *that* been identified?  There seems to be plenty of speculation that this is not the actual resting place of the legendary king, Kim Suro, but it is certainly the place where he is worshipped.  The tomb was apparently expanded upon in later centuries, and today it is quite the facility, though much of it seems relatively recent, and hard to connect with the actual past. More important for that is probably what was found at Bonghwang-dong.  On this ridge, south of the tomb ridge, were found traces of buildings including pit style dwellings along with post-holes, indicating raised structures of some sort.  Today you can go and see interpreted reconstructions, based in part on some pottery models that had also been found from around that period.  Reconstructed buildings sit on either side of a hill, which is the main feature of a modern park.  It is a good place to get a sense of what was around that area, and you can hike to the top of the hill, which isn't that difficult a journey.  The trees do obstruct the view, somewhat, but you get a great sense for what a community there might have been like.  As I mentioned before, there is also a large excavation being carried out on what is believed to be some kind of royal palace structure, but unfortunately we likely won't know much more until later. Also next to the settlement is a giant shell mound.  We are talking over a football field long and several stories high of shells and bone, along with discarded pottery and other such things.  Unfortunately, for whatever reason, the contents of the shell mound appear to have been mixed at various stages, but it is still impressive, and they have an excellent display where you can see the mound cut away to demonstrate what a shell mound might look like. The shell mound apparently existed from the 1st to the 4th centuries.  This feels odd to me, given that I normally think of shell mounds as more connected to Jomon and similar sites, but it also makes sense that a community—particularly one with easy access to the sea—would have a lot of shells and it isn't like they had trash collectors coming to take away their garbage. Which brings me to another point:  Back in its heyday, Geumgwan Gaya was clearly on or very near the sea.  In modern times you can certainly see islands off the coast from the tops of some of these hills—and from the top of a mountain one might even make out Tsushima on a clear day.  However, today that ocean is several miles out. Back in the time of the Geumgwan Gaya, however, things were likely different.  The Nakdong river would have emptied out to the east into a large bay, with Geumgwan Gaya sitting comfortably at its head, with mountains on three sides and the ocean on the fourth.  This would have made it a great as a port town, as it not only had access to the Korean straits and the Pacific Ocean, but it also sat at the head of the river that connected many of the sites believed to be related to the ancient Gaya confederacy. Over time, however, the bay silted up, and/or sea levels dropped, and the area that would become the heart of modern Gimhae would find itself farther and farther away from the ocean, through no fault of their own.  That must have put a damper on their trade relationships, and I can't help but wonder if that was one of the reasons they eventually gave in to Silla and joined them. With its place at the head of the Nakdong river, Silla's control of Geumgwan Gaya likely made the rest of the Gaya polities' absorption much more likely, as most of the Gaya polities appear to have been laid out around the Nakdong river.  That would have been their lifeline to the ocean and maritime trade routes.  Without a cohesive state, they may not have been able to resist the more organized and coordinated armies of groups like Silla and Baekje, eventually falling under Silla's domain. Unfortunately, there doesn't seem to be much online in English about Gimhae beyond the ancient connection to Geumgwan Gaya.  Specifically, I didn't find a lot of clear historical information about the city after coming under Silla rule.  It was apparently one of the “capitals” of the Silla region under Later or Unified Silla.  Though Silla tried to form the people of the three Han of Baekje, Goguryeo, and Silla into a unified state, its central authority would eventually break down.  Baekje and Goguryeo would be briefly reconstituted before the Later Goguryeo throne was usurped by a man who would be known as Taejo, from Gaesong.  He would lead the first fully successful unification effort, and from the 10th century until the 14th the state was known as “Goryeo”, from which we get the modern name of “Korea”.  Goryeo started in Gaesong, but also rebuilt the ancient Goguryeo capital at Pyongyang, both up in what is today North Korea.  It eventually came under the thumb of the Mongol Yuan dynasty, and when that dynasty was overthrown by the Ming, Goryeo experienced its own instability, resulting in the Joseon dynasty, which moved the capital to the area of modern Seoul.  Given modern tensions between North and South Korea, I suspect that there is a fair bit of politics still wrapped up in the historiography of these periods, especially with each modern state having as their capitals one of the ancient capital city sites. As for Gimhae, I have very little information about the city during the Goryeo period.  Towards the end of the 14th century, we do see signs of possible conflict, though: There was a fortress built on the nearby hill, called Bunsanseong, in about 1377, though some claim that an older structure was there since the time of the old Gaya kingdom, which would make sense, strategically.  This fortress was severely damaged during Hideyoshi's invasion of Korea in the late 16th century—a not uncommon theme for many historical sites on the peninsula, unfortunately—and repaired in 1871.  The walls can still be seen from the city below. Stone walls were placed around the city in 1434 and improved in 1451.  Excavations on the wall were carried out in 2006 and the north gate, which was first renovated in 1666, was restored in 2008.   You can still visit it, north of the international markets, which includes a wet market along with various restaurants offering specialties from around Northeast Asia, including places like Harbin, in China. Near the north gate there is also a Confucian school, or hyanggyo.  The first iteration was probably built during the Goryeo dynasty, but whatever was there in the 16th century was also destroyed during Hideyoshi's invasion.  It would later be rebuilt in 1688 and relocated to the east until it burned down in 1769.  The following year it was rebuilt in its current location, north of the city gate.  The school contains examples of the classrooms along with a central Confucian shrine, and there are some similarities with similar Edo period institutions in Japan, which also based themselves off of a Confucian model. For those interested in more recent history, you may want to check out the Gimhae Folk Life Museum.  This covers some of the more recent folk traditions, clothing, and tools and home goods used up until quite recent times.  It may not be as focused on the ancient history of the area, but it certainly provides some insight into the recent history of the people of Gimhae. Today, Gimhae is a bustling city.  Not quite as big and bustling as Pusan or Seoul, but still quite modern.  You can easily get there by train from Busan or Gimhae International Airport, and there are plenty of options to stay around the city such that you can walk to many of the historical sites. For those used to traveling in Japan, there are both similarities and differences.  Alongside the ubiquitous Seven Eleven chains are the CU chain, formerly known as FamilyMart, and GS25, along with a few others.  Trains are fairly easy to navigate if you know where you want to go, as well – there's a convenient metro line that connects the airport to Gimhae city proper, and has stops right by the museums.  The KTX, the Korean Train eXpress, the high-speed rail, includes a line from Seoul to Busan.  And don't worry, from our experience there are no zombies on the train to- or from- Busan. Of course, in Korea they use Hangul, the phonetic Korean alphabet.  It may look like kanji to those not familiar with the language but it is entirely phonetic.  Modern Korean rarely uses kanji—or hanja, as they call it—though you may see some signs in Japanese or Chinese that will use it here and there.  In general, though, expect things to be in Korean, and there may or may not be English signs.  However, most of the historical sites we visited had decent enough signage that we only occasionally had to pull out the phone for translation assistance, and the museums are quite modern and have translation apps readily available with QR codes you can scan to get an English interpretation. Speaking of phones, make sure that you have one that will work in Korea or consider getting a SIM card when you get in, as you will likely want it for multiple reasons.  That said, a lot of things that travelers rely on won't work in Korea unless you have the Korean version.  For instance, Google Maps will show you where things are but it can't typically navigate beyond walking and public transit directions.  For something more you'll want the Korean app, Naver.  We did okay, for the most part, on Google Maps, but Naver is specifically designed for South Korea. Likewise, hailing a cab can be a bit of a chore.  Don't expect your Uber or Lyft apps to work—you'll need to get a Korean taxi app if you want to call a taxi or you'll need to do it the old fashioned way—call someone up on the telephone or hail one on the streets, which can be a tricky business depending on where you are. On the topic of streets: In Gimhae, many of the streets we were walking on did not have sidewalks, so be prepared to walk along the side of the road.   We didn't have much trouble, but we were very conscious of the traffic. Another note in Gimhae is the food.  Korea is host to a wide variety of foods, and Gimhae can have many options, depending on what you are looking for.  Near our hotel there were traditional Korean restaurants as well as places advertising pizza, Thai, and burgers.  Up in the main market area, you can find a wide variety of food from around Asia.  Vietnam, Sri Lanka, Uzbekistan, Nepal, and many more were represented, as well as Russian and Chinese cuisines. That said, our breakfast options were not so bountiful.  Our hotel, which gave us our own private hot tub, like a private onsen, did not serve breakfast, but there were a few cafes around where you could get a drink and a light meal in the morning,  and there were some pork Gukbab places, where you would put cooked rice in a pork bone broth for a hearty and delicious morning meal.  That said, if you waited a little later, there is a Krispy Kreme for those craving donuts, and a few French-inspired Korean bakeries, such as the chain, Tous les Jours, which is always a tasty go-to spot. If you prefer a wider variety of food you can choose to stay in Busan proper, instead.  It isn't that far, and you can take the train over to Gimhae in the morning.  However, I would recommend at least two days to see most of the Gaya related sites, and maybe a third or fourth if you want to chase down everything in the city. There is also an interesting amusement park that we did not get the chance to experience but may be of interest:  the Gimhae Gaya Theme Park.  This appears to be a series of interpretations of different Gaya buildings along with a theme park for kids and adults, including rope bridges, light shows, and some cultural performances.  It looked like it might be fun, but since we had limited time we decided to give it a pass this time around. In Busan, there are many other things to do, including museums, folk villages, and an aquarium along the beach.  Busan station is also conveniently located next to the cruise port, where ships depart daily for Japan.  This includes typical cruise ships, as well as various ferries.  For instance, there is a ferry to Hakata, in Fukuoka city, as well as an overnight ferry that takes you through the Seto Inland sea all the way to Osaka.  For us, however, we had booked the jetfoil to Hitakatsu, on the northern tip of Tsushima island – a very modern version of the Gishiwajinden account of setting sail in a rickety ship. Unfortunately, as we were preparing for our journey, disaster struck—the kind of thing that no doubt befell many who would dare the crossing across the waters.  Strong winds out in the strait were making the water choppy, and it was so bad that they decided to cancel all of the ferries for that day and the next.  It made me think of the old days, when ships would wait at dock as experienced seamen kept their eye on the weather, trying to predict when it would be fair enough to safely make the crossing.  This was not always an accurate prediction, though, since on the open ocean, squalls can blow up suddenly.  In some cases people might wait months to make the crossing. Since we didn't have months, and had a lot to see in Tsushuma, we opted for another, very modern route: we booked airplane tickets and left from Gimhae airport to Fukuoka, where we transitioned to a local prop plane for Tsushima.  You might say: why not just fly to Tsushima? But Tsushima doesn't have an international airport, and only serves Japanese domestic destinations. Hence the detour to Fukuoka, where we went through Japanese immigration and had a very nice lunch while we waited for our second, short flight. Even that was almost cancelled due to the winds at Tsushima, with a disclaimer that the plane might have to turn around if the weather was too bad.  Fortunately, we were able to make it, though coming into Tsushima airport was more than a little hair-raising as the small plane came in over the water and cliffs and dodged some pretty substantial updrafts before touching down on a tiny airstrip. And with that, we made our crossing to Tsushima island.  Or perhaps it is better to call them “islands” now, since several channels have been dug separating the north and south parts of Tsushima.  It wasn't quite how we had planned to get there, but we made it – and that kind of adaptability is very much in keeping with how you had to travel in the old days! One more comment here about the Korean Peninsula and Tsushima:  while we never had a day clear enough, it seems obvious that from a high enough vantage point in Gimhae or Gaya, one could see Tsushima on a clear day.  This is something I had speculated, but as we traveled it became clear.  Tsushima is actually closer to the Korean Peninsula than to Kyushu, a fact that they point out.  And so it was likely visible enough to people who knew what they were looking for. And yet, I imagine being on a small boat, trying to make the journey, it must have been something.  You hopefully had a good navigator, because if you went off in the wrong direction you could end up in the East Sea—known in Japan as the Japan Sea—or worse.    If you kept going you would probably eventually reach the Japanese archipelago, but who knows what might have happened in the meantime.  It is little wonder that ships for the longest time decided to use Tsushima and Iki as stepping stones between the archipelago and the continent. And with that, I think we'll leave it.  From Gimhae and Pusan, we traveled across to Tsushima, which has long been the first point of entry into the archipelago from the continent, often living a kind of dual life on the border.  Tsushima has gotten famous recently for the “Ghost of Tsushima” video game, set on the island during the Mongol Invasion – we haven't played it, but we understand a lot of the landscape was reproduced pretty faithfully. From there we (and the ancient chroniclers) sailed to Iki.  While smaller than Tsushuma, Iki was likely much more hospitable to the Yayoi style of rice farming, and the Harunotsuji site is pretty remarkable. Modern Karatsu, the next stop, is literally the Kara Port, indicating that the area has deep connections to the continent.  It is also the site of some of the oldest rice paddies found on the archipelago, as well as its own fascinating place in later history.  Continuing north along the coast of Kyushu is another area with evidence of ancient Yayoi and Kofun communities in Itoshima, thought to be the ancient country of Ito.  Here you can find some burial mounds, as well as the site where archaeologists found one of the largest bronze mirrors of the ancient archipelago.  Finally, we ended up in Fukuoka, where the seal of the King of Na of Wa was found. We ended our trip in Fukuoka, but the historical trail from Na, or Fukuoka, to quote-unquote “Yamatai” then goes a bit hazy.  As we discussed in an earlier episode, there are different theories about where Yamatai actually was.  There is the Kyushu theory, which suggests that Yamatai is somewhere on Kyushu, with many trying to point to the Yayoi period site of Yoshinogari, though there are plenty of reasons why that particular site is not exactly a good candidate.  Then there are various paths taking you to Honshu, and on to Yamato.  Those are much more controversial, but the path to at least Na seems mostly agreed on, especially since that was largely the path that individuals would follow for centuries onwards, including missions to and from the Tang dynasty, the Mongols during their attempted invasion, and even the various missions from the Joseon dynasty during the Edo period.  Today, modern transportation, such as the airplane, means that most people just go directly to their destination, but there are still plenty of reasons to visit these locations.  It was a lot of fun to sail from place to place and see the next island – or kingdom – emerging on the horizon. Next episode we will talk about Tsushima and give you an idea of what that island has in store for visitors; especially those with an interest in Japanese history. Until then, thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

The MEXT Scholarship deadline is quickly approaching (May 24, 2024 for the Nashville Consulate). But what is a MEXT Scholarship Program? The Krewe is digging into this today. We sit down with returning guest Tye Ebel, JET/MEXT Coordinator for the Consulate-General of Japan in Nashville, & a current MEXT research scholar, William Archambeault. Through both conversations, they share some excellent insight into the application process and the programs as a whole. Don't miss out!------ About the Krewe ------The Krewe of Japan Podcast is a weekly episodic podcast sponsored by the Japan Society of New Orleans. Check them out every Friday afternoon around noon CST on Apple, Google, Spotify, Amazon, Stitcher, or wherever you get your podcasts.  Want to share your experiences with the Krewe? Or perhaps you have ideas for episodes, feedback, comments, or questions? Let the Krewe know by e-mail at kreweofjapanpodcast@gmail.com or on social media (Twitter: @kreweofjapan, Instagram: @kreweofjapanpodcast, Facebook: Krewe of Japan Podcast Page, TikTok: @kreweofjapanpodcast, LinkedIn: Krewe of Japan LinkedIn Page, Blue Sky Social: @kreweofjapan.bsky.social, & the Krewe of Japan Youtube Channel). Until next time, enjoy!------ Support the Krewe! Offer Links for Affiliates ------Use the referral links below & our promo code from the episode (timestamps [hh:mm:ss] where you can find the code)!Zencastr Offer Link - Use my special link to save 30% off your 1st month of any Zencastr paid plan!  (00:58:20)------ MEXT Scholarship Program-Related Links ------MEXT Scholarship Information Page (Consulate-General of Japan in Nashville's Page)Embassy of Japan's Consulate Guide (What's Your Consulate)William's Japan Times Articles------ Past KOJ Study/Work in Japan Episodes ------2024 JET Program Tips & Updates ft. Tye Ebel & Jonathan Contrades of Consulate-General of Japan in Nashville (S4B)Find Your Japan Dream Job Today! ft. Kasia Lynch of Ikigai Connections (S4E9)Studying Abroad in Japan (S2E6)Applying for the JET Program ft. Tye Ebel (S2E4)Accepted for the JET Program... Now What? ft. Megan DeVille (S1E17)------ JSNO Upcoming Events ------JSNO Event CalendarJapan Club Crawfish Boil (Sunday, May 11 - Registration Required by May 5)"YOJIMBO" Screening at Margaret Place (Thursday, May 16)

Filling in the rest of Takara's reign with the stories of the various envoys at court, the Baekje princes living in Yamato, and the story of a 7th century millenial cult. For more, check out https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-107   Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is episode 107: Winds Across the Straits Villagers gathered near the center of their community.  In contrast to the clean, walled up compounds of the local elites, with their raised floor buildings, the buildings here were much simpler, often sitting directly on the ground, or dug down into the earth in the pit dwelling style that had been used for centuries.  Mostly what anyone would notice were the thatched roofs, which had been used for centuries to keep out the rain and snow.   A tall watchtower was currently unmanned as everyone had gathered around, curious at the news coming from the east. A wandering mystic had come to town, and she was spreading words of hope across the country of Yamashiro.  Over the past few years there had been droughts, famine, earthquakes, and more.  People had tried everything in conjunction with the advice of their local hafuri, or priests. They had petitioned the local kami of the rivers and lakes, they had tried imported practices like sacrificing horses, and at a nearby village they had changed the location of the marketplace to see if that would work. Even when the rains had come, the damage had been done.  Food was scarce, and many of those who had survived were hardly in the best of situations.  Life in the village, working the land, was quite different from the life of the elites.  The wealthy had servants and slaves to tend to their needs, and they had access to stores of grain and other food in times of trouble.  They also had charge of the mononofu—the warriors who worked for them and were often an implicit—if not explicit—threat of violence for anyone who didn't pay their expected taxes.  This is perhaps what made the mystic's message so alluring.  She told them about the teachings of a man from the River Fuji, in the East, named Ohofu Be no Ohoshi:  he claimed to have discovered a new kami, the god of Tokoyo, the Everlasting world.  It was said that those who worshipped this god, who appeared in the land in the form of a caterpillar that thrived on orange tree leaves, would earn great things in this new world, when it came.  The poor would become rich and the old would become young again, when the promises of Tokoyo came to fruition. But it wasn't as easy as just saying some words.  True devotees would need to prove themselves, casting out the valuables of their house and setting out any food on the side of the road.  They would then yell out: “The new riches have come!” Then they were to worship these insects that were the kami's incarnation.  They would put them in a pure place and worship them with song and dance.  Many had already started doing this, the mystic said.  Indeed, the people of Yamashiro had heard rumors of some of these new practices, but only now were learning about why they had arisen.  It was a lot to ask, to give up their valuables and the little food they had — but then again, in this dew drop world, what was there to lose, for those already working themselves to the bone?  Was this any more incredible than asking the hafuri to pray to the kami, or even relying on that new religion in Yamato, where they prayed to giant bronze and gold statues to bring about prosperity and happiness.  Besides, if so many others had joined up already, perhaps there was something to these fantastic stories. And thus, village by village, a new religion began to take hold of the countryside, eventually making its way to the capital of Yamato, itself.     Greetings, listeners!  While the thing we covered last episode -- the Isshi Incident of 645, which is to say the assassination of Soga no Iruka in front of Her Majesty Takara, aka Kougyoku Tenno -- certainly dominates the narrative in the popular imagination for this particular point in Japanese history, there was a lot more going on over these last few years, both over on the continent in the archipelago.  And so this episode we are going to cover some of that:  From the missions from Baekje, Goguryeo, and Silla, which were likely driven by conflict on the peninsula, to the Baekje Princes who resided in the Yamato court as political hostages as well as esteemed guests.  And to finish it off we'll talk about the popular 7th century millennial cult that sprang up in Yamashiro around the worship of the God of Tokoyo, the Everlasting World.  All in the reign of the Empress known to history as Kougyoku Tennou…. At least for now. Michael Como, in his book on Shoutoku Taishi, makes particular note of some of the overarching themes across the straits and how that affected what was happening—or at least what gets remembered—in Yamato.  As we discussed back in episode 98, Como makes the point that the early, opposing Buddhist factions that placed Shotoku Taishi on a pedestal were largely connected with one or more continental factions.  While the Soga were heavily connected with Baekje, other family groups, like the Hata, were more closely tied with Silla, at least according to later accounts. And on top of that, the area around Koshi and Tsunaga had ties with Goguryeo.  As the Tang dynasty and Goguryeo were in contention on their own borders, no doubt both of them and their allies were looking to nearby nations for either support or at least neutrality.  One can also see how peninsular enmities might also make their way across the strait to the archipelago with families of various ethnic backgrounds no doubt carrying on some of the continental prejudices with them even into a new land. A lot of the accounts for this reign that aren't dealing with the weather and natural disasters—topics of particular concern from the 642 to 643—are dealing with the continent. It started out in 642, with Baekje envoys arriving in the first month of that year, apparently to deliver their condolences on the death of the sovereign.  They were accompanied by Yamato's envoy to Baekje, Azumi no Yamashiro no Muraji no Hirafu, who left them at Tsukushi to rush back to Yamato via post-horse, while the Baekje envoys took their time via the normal, ship-borne route. And right off the bat we have a few things of note.  The first is this idea of post-horses.  The various circuits around the archipelago had reportedly been set up some time back, even before horses were a thing.   While a single horse would have been rather fast overland, the mention of post-horse system implies a method of travel more akin to the short-lived pony express in the American west, where various post stations were set up across the major highways so that officials could quickly traverse them, riding horseback from one station to the next, where a fresh horse would be waiting for them.  This way the horses themselves could be properly fed and rested, since no single horse could cover all of the ground in a straight up gallop, just as no person could.  Instead, this is something like a relay race, where the envoy Hirafu became the baton passed from horse to horse.  The Pony Express used stations set up at intervals of approximately 5 to 20 miles, so that the horses could be changed out frequently.  Of course, changing horses would also take some time—I've found some sources citing average speeds of only about 10 miles per hour for the Pony Express, but that beats by far the four miles per hour for a fast walker, not to mention the ability to keep going for much longer than just 8 hours a day.  Of course, he would have had to take a boat for at least some of the journey, likely crossing from Kyuushuu over to Honshuu near Shimonoseki or something similar, at which point he could have caught another horse from there.  The resonates with something that goes back to pre-Qin Dynasty times, when kingdoms on the continent would set up not just courier stations with horses, but systems of canal boats, and inns for people to stay overnight on long journeys.  Still, it must have been a grueling experience. That such a means of conveyance could take Hirafu from Kyushu to Yamato, though, implies that Yamato's reach was fairly solid all the way out to the Dazai near modern Fukuoka, at least.  It is unclear how these post stations were set up in regards to the local Miyake, or royal granaries, another government project we've talked about, but either way it demonstrates a certain degree of control over the region. And so Hirafu was able to make it back to the court in time for the ceremonies associated with the mourning of Tamura, aka Jomei Tennou, and the ascension of Her Majesty, Takara no Ohokimi.  He likewise was able to inform the court of Baekje's condolence envoys' imminent arrival and give the court a head's up on the situation in Baekje, where he said that the country was “greatly disturbed”.  When the Baekje envoys themselves arrived, Azumi no Hirafu, Kusakabe no Iwakane, and Yamato no Aya no Agata were sent to ask them about their news. From what we know in the Samguk Sagi, King Wicha of Baekje had just come to the throne.  The previous king, King Mu, died in the third month of 641, so it hadn't even been a year since his death.  Furthermore, we are told that his wife, the mother of King Wicha, had also passed away.  The Baekje envoys asked for the return of prince Saeseong, possibly the younger brother of Prince P'ung, saying he had behaved badly and they wanted to convey him back to the King, but Takara refused.  Presumably, based on context, this was one of the hostages that Yamato held from Baekje, but why they wouldn't turn them over to the Baekje envoys isn't explained.  I suspect it had something to do with the politics of King Wicha coming to the throne, which seems like it may have not been accepted by everyone, as evidenced by his tour of the realm, mentioned in the Samguk Sagi, which was likely a political move to demonstrate his authority over the realm. This colors a lot of what we are going to talk about, so let's try to get some of it straight off the bat.  Unfortunately, as we talked about in Episode 105, some of the Baekje related dates are questionable, and that means that there is a lot here that I'm going to give you where we may have to back track a bit and see if we can put it in the right order.  I'm going to try to give you the information in largely chronological order according to the Nihon Shoki, but then I'll also try and place it where we think it might actually go, so apologies if this feels disjointed. Also, let me take a moment to talk a little bit more about the Baekje royal family, which will become rather important to our narrative.  For one, there is King Wicha, son of King Mu.  Mu passed away in 640 and Wicha came to the throne.  Wicha already had several children of his own, one of whom, Prince Pung, or Prince Pungjang, will feature heavily in both the Japanese and Korean sources, though as we mentioned in episode 105, the dates around Prince Pung's arrival, which the Nihon Shoki has about 630, doesn't match up with what we know.  We are fairly confident that Prince Pung returned to Baekje in 661, which accords with the Nihon Shoki, Samguk Sagi, and Tang records.  However, Best makes a good case that he didn't actually come over to the archipelago until much later—probably 643. He wasn't the only royal prince of Baekje in Yamato, however.  We are told of two others:  Saeseong and Gyoki.  Saeseong is mentioned as being a bit of a troublemaker, and requested to come home, but Yamato refuses to let him go.  Gyoki is said to have caused trouble and been banished with some 40 others out to sea.  I have a suspicion that much of this is misplaced in the Chronicle.  Saesong may have been there first or perhaps came over with Prince Pung—I've seen him mentioned as the younger brother to Prince Pung, but I also wonder if he wasn't the younger brother to King Wicha.  Gyoki, meanwhile, despite what we initially hear about him, is invited to Yamato shortly after that entry and treated like a real celebrity.  It is unclear to me if he is a younger brother to Wicha or an elder brother to Prince Pungjang, but either way, he seems to have been a royal prince that wasn't quite in line for the throne. I suspect that in reality the mission that is listed as coming in 641 was actually much later—possibly in the 650s.  That would explain some of it, including the gossip that the Senior Counselor, Chijeok, died in the 11th month of the previous year, Aston writes off most of this as an unreliable narrative by servants.  Jonathan Best, in his translation of the Samguk Sagi, is a bit more generous and suggests that, much as with Prince Pung-jang, whom the Nihon Shoki records arriving in the 630s but who couldn't reasonably have arrived until the 640s, there was probably a dating issue.  The scribes were using records with the branch and stem system of dates, and so it could easily have been off by a factor of ten or twelve years, at least.  We know, for instance, that there is a record of Senior Counselor Chijeok in the Nihon Shoki in the 7th month of 642, though it says he died in 641.  Furthermore, we have his name on a fragmentary inscription, likely dating to 654, noting him as a patron of a Buddhist monastery.  So it would seem that word of his death was exaggerated or parts of this are coming from later accounts, and the scribes simply made a mistake.  Hence my suggestion that this entire entry might be misplaced.  If so, it would make more sense for Yamato to be asking about the fates of people that they knew, and hence hearing the fates of Chijeok and Gyoki, who had both visited Yamato and would have been known to the court.   Regardless, it likely was the case, as recorded in the Nihon Shoki, that the envoys' ship was anchored in Naniwa harbor and the envoys were put up at the official government residence there, in modern Ohosaka.  This may indicate that the mission mentioning Chijeok and Gyoki got conflated with other entries about the actual envoys of condolence and congratulations. Then, 19 days later, on the 22nd day of the 2nd month, another group of envoys showed up.  This time it was Goguryeo.  As mentioned, Goguryeo had a few things going on, but they still knew how to make an entrance.  For example, the Chronicles mention that high ministers were sent to the district office in Naniwa to inspect the gold and silver that Goguryeo had sent with their envoys, along with other things from their country.  This may have been them trying to get Yamato on their side. That said, Goguryeo had been going through a lot themselves, we are told.  First off, based on the Samguk Sagi accounts, Goguryeo had sent envoys to the Tang in 640.  In 641, the Tang court returned the favor, and in so doing their envoy, the Director of the Bureau of Operations in their Ministry of War, Chen Dade, used it as a chance to spy out the border region.  At every walled town he would offer the local officials gifts of silk, and ask to be allowed to see the scenic spots.  They let him roam freely, so by the time he went back he had an intimate account and understanding of Goguryeo's defenses along the Tang-Goguryeo border.  Goguryeo seems to have been completely unaware of this touristic espionage, but then again, they may have been distracted dealing with their own internal problems. And so the Nihon Shoki reports that the envoys delivered news of this to the court: How the younger prince of Goguryeo died in the 6th month of 641.  Then, in the 9th month, the Prime Minister murdered the king, along with some 180 people.  He then put the son of the younger prince on the throne as king. In the Samguk Sagi, these events appear to happen a year later.  Yon Gaesomun killed King Keonmu in the 10th month of 642 and put Prince Chang, aka Pojang, on the throne.  The Samguk Sagi says he was the younger brother of King Keonmu, the son of King Taeyang—who was the younger brother of King Yeongnyu, so that may be where the Nihon Shoki gets that he was the “son of the younger prince”.  Still, the gist is correct, even if it seems to be off by a year or so.  From here, Goguryeo would be at war with the Tang dynasty for much of the next thirty years, all under the reign of King Pojang.  They were able to fend the Tang off for a while, but the Tang would eventually ally with Silla, and though Baekje seems to have supported Goguryeo in general, Baekje itself was also caught between the Tang and Silla.  They no doubt hoped for Yamato's aid, but while the archipelago may have had warriors, they were still a good ways from the continent, and would likely need to avoid confrontation with Silla, who now controlled all the way to the Nakdong river basin.  Not that they wouldn't try.  Insert dramatic sound effects alluding to a later episode. All that prognosticating aside, at this point, at least from the envoys' point of view, all of the future was unwritten.  Both Goguryeo and Baekje guests were entertained at the Naniwa district office, and envoys were named to Goguryeo, Baekje, Silla, and to the no longer extant Nimna—the latter seems to have been, at this point, a not-so-polite fiction between Silla and Yamato that Nimna was still at least semi-independent. It was at this time that Gyoki was also brought to Yamato and lodged in the house of Azumi no Hirafu, the previous envoy to Baekje.  Gyoki likely knew Hirafu from his time at the Baekje court.  This was probably the actual arrival of Gyoki, I suspect. A week or so later, the Silla envoys of congratulations and condolence arrived: congratulations on Takara's ascension and then a group of envoys expressing condolence for her husband's death.  They left after less than two weeks—apparently they simply delivered their message and left, unless there was some other reason having to do with the Baekje and Goguryeo envoys being there at the same time.  No mention is made in the Nihon Shoki of exactly why they turned around so quickly. Meanwhile, Gyoki was living it up.  He's referenced as the Chief Envoy from Baekje at this point—probably the highest ranking individual from the court present.  On the 8th day of the fourth month he attended an audience with Her Majesty, Takara, and then two days later he was partying with Soga no Emishi out at his mansion in Unebi.  Soga no Emishi had good conversations and presented a good horse and twenty bars of iron, but curiously the hostage crown prince, Sesaeng, was not invited to any of this. Given that we know what the Chroniclers think of Soga no Emishi, I'm wondering if there isn't a little bit of that same feeling towards Gyoki.  After all, we were previously told he and some 40 others were exiled, so perhaps this is just leading up to that? Gyoki and his companions were later invited to witness an “archery hunt” in front of the Yosami Miyake in Kawachi.  This is glossed as “Uma-yumi” or “Horse-Bow”, leading one to wonder if this was similar to yabusame, the traditional horsed archery, performed at various shrines each year.  Or perhaps it was one of the other archery games from horseback, many of them much less savory, often using a live animal as the target, usually staked or confined to an area, and the archers circle around and shoot at them. By the 5th month of 642 – a little over three months after Baekje had first arrived with envoys of condolences, we are told that a shipp of Baekje envoys anchored together along with the ship of the Kishi family.  This is likely Naniwa no Kishi, as Naniwa no Kishi no Kuhina had been assigned as envoy to Baekje.  The envoys delivered their goods and Kuhina reported on their mission. Once again, the dates look to be slightly off.  Had Kuhina really traveled to Baekje and back in just three months?  It is possible, but not typically how things were done at the time.  Ships often had to take their time, navigating the Seto Inland Sea and then checking in at modern Fukuoka before following the island chains out to Tsushima.  At that point they could sail around Tsushima, or cross at a narrow part of the island, known today as Kofunakoshi.  We know that this was used from at least the 9th century as a place where ships coming to and from the islands would stop, often transmitting their goods to a local ship on the other side, with a crew that presumably better knew the waters and was under the command of the appropriate government.  In addition, as the ships reached various checkpoints they would stop for a while, and often another ship would be sent ahead to prepare the way for an official delegation.  Since they didn't have phones, something like this would have been required to inform the next post to be ready to receive the visitors. More likely, this would have been Kuhina finally ready to depart to take on his mission with Baekje. Shortly after this, we are told that one of Gyoki's companions died, and then his own child died—we aren't told if it was from disease or something else.  It did provide an opportunity to see some of the cultural differences between Baekje and Yamato at the time, as Gyoki and his wife refused to attend the ceremonies for their late son.  The Chroniclers explained that, in Baekje and Silla, when someone dies, the parents, siblings, and spouse were not supposed to look on them again. For what it's worth, I could find no relationship between this and any contemporary Korean practice.  This may have been something in Baekje and Silla that eventually went away.  Then again, it is possible there was something else going on, and it was misinterpreted by the Wa.  Given that the Chroniclers are dismissive of the practice, it is entirely possible that this was just slanderous rumor, too.  The Chroniclers make a point of saying that the people of Baekje and Silla who practice these kinds of death rites are without feeling, and thus no better than animals.  So, yeah, clearly the Chroniclers were presenting just the facts, right? Gyoki's child was buried in Ishikawa in Kawachi, and Gyoki moved his family to a house in Ohowi, in Kudara—which is to say the area of Kawachi named for Baekje. Two months after he lost his son, on the 22nd day of the 7th month, Senior Counsellor Chicheok and colleagues were entertained at the Yamato court.  This is that same Senior Counsellor previously thought to be dead.  Again, Aston simply treats it as gossip, while I tend to wonder if the records aren't out of order—unless Chijeok was some kind of Baekje Benjamin Button.  Entertainment at the Yamato court apparently included havingvarious people wrestle for their entertainment. Even Prince Gyoki himself entered the contest.  When the banquet was finished they went to pay their respect's at Gyoki's compound, likely stopping by and having a bit of a nightcap. Two weeks later the Baekje envoys tried to leave, but the storms kicked up.  One of the ships was wrecked on the shore.  Fortunately, it seems like those on the boat survived and they were placed on another boat a couple weeks later.  A day after that, the Goguryeo envoys left for their own country. The Baekje envoys finally made it back, we are told, 11 days later, on the 26th day of the 8th month.  Not bad given the journey they had to undertake, and actually a bit hard to believe.  In contrast, the Silla envoys, who left in the 3rd month, apparently only made it as far as the island of Iki, between Kyushu and Tsushima, by the 10th month of 642.  Perhaps they were just going at a more leisurely pace, but it does make it hard to trust that all the records were rearranged in precisely the correct order. As for this period, outside of the Silla envoys, the entire episode, starting on the 2nd day of the 2nd month of 642, finally concluded—mostly—over six months later.  It occupies most of that part of Chronicle, with the exception of the accounts of the weather, drought, and famine. After all of these people had returned to the peninsula, the Nihon Shoki focuses on a few local things from the archipelago.  Soga no Emishi was ordered to raise a levy in Afumi and Koshi to build a temple, the court levied various provinces to make ships—we aren't told why but previously this was often something done in preparation for war—and then Takara ordered Soga no Emishi to build a new palace with levies on various provinces and workmen from Toutoumi and Aki.  That was all in the 9th month, at the end of which, we are told that several thousand Emishi from the Koshi region, where Soga no Emishi had been ordered to levy workers for a temple earlier in the month, submitted to Yamato and were entertained at court. Soga no Emishi himself entertained them at his house and asked them about their welfare. This is all a bit confusing, but let's try to understand some of what might be going on.  First, you may recall in the previous reign there was a mention with General Katana who went to the east to subdue an uprising of Emishi there, so it is possible that this is a continuation of that.  At the same time, these Emishi, we are told, are from the land of Koshi. It is likely that this is evidence of Yamato's increased presence in the northern region of the island of Honshi, which stretched along the northern edge of the Chubu, or middle Honshu, region, including the Noto peninsula and eastward to Tohoku, or the Northeast region.  This had been an important area for various resources, including the source of jade magatama, since at least the early days of the Yayoi period, judging from artifacts discovered at various sites.  It is also a region connected to the current dynasty, in that Wohodo no Ohokimi, aka Keitai Tennou, generally seen as the progenitor of the current line of sovereigns, is said to have come from that region. Furthermore, this region is closely connected to various overseas trade routes.  While the most common route we hear about, at least at this point in the chronicles, is the Seto Inland Sea route, there was also a route along the Japan Sea side of Honshu, which included the areas of Izumo and the port of Tsunuga—modern day Tsuruga—which includes the Kehi shrine, purportedly for a kami who came over from the peninsula.  At least one Goguryeo mission explicitly used this route—whether intentionally or otherwise—to get to Yamato, crossing over to Afumi, aka Lake Biwa, and then taking the rivers south to Naniwa. Michael Como suggests that there is enough evidence to suggest a fairly heavy Goguryeo influence in the region.  He also suggests that the Soga had a good deal of interactions and influences themselves with Goguryeo, pointing out that Shotoku Taishi's teacher had supposedly been a monk from Goguryeo, and that the plan for Asukadera, the Soga temple, with three golden halls around a central pagoda, is extremely similar to temple plans found in Goguryeo and not in Silla and Baekje. I do feel it is worth pointing out that it is very possible that this was not Asukadera's original layout, and it is hard to say how much of the stories surrounding Shotoku Taishi we can trust. Still, Koshi was an area that had a long history of trade with the continent, and the ease of the waterways from Yamato to the Japan Sea would have made it at least strategically useful to the growing state. There is another aspect here, but it is a bit more tenuous.  There are some that suggest that Soga no Emishi's own name, or at least the name as it is handed down to us today, comes from his dealings with the Emishi people.  Here we see him intimately involved in Koshi, in the Emishi coming to submit, and him then hosting them in his own house.  So even if his name is coincidental, there does appear to be some connection there. And we are still in the first year of Takara's reign.  It was in this twelfth month that Okinaga no Yamana no Kimi finally pronounced a eulogy for the entire royal line.  As you may recall, Takara's husband, Tamura, aka Jomei Tennou, had been a member of the Okinaga royal line, so this was likely part of the ceremonies around his death and burial. There is more here about the placement of palaces, which we touched on a lot in the last episode.  There is also a lot about storms, weather, and peach blossoms blooming. Then on the thirteenth day of the third month of 643, the second year of Takara's reign, there was a terrible fire in Naniwa.  The official guest quarters for Baekje burned down, and the houses of the common people also caught fire. This is also around the time that Best suggests that Prince Pungjang, son of King Wicha of Baekje, may have actually arrived, as we discussed earlier.  That actually could be tied to events a month later, when the Dazai in Tsukushi—the government outpost on Kyushu—sent a mounted messenger to Her Majesty, Takara, to let her know that Gyoki's younger brother, the son of the King of Baekje, had arrived.  The Baekje ships, which had arrived in the area of modern Fukuoka around the 21st day of the 4th month finally arrived in Naniwa two months later.  Presumably the Baekje envoys' official guest quarters had been repaired or rebuilt at this point, and several high ministers went to inspect the tribute.  They couldn't help but notice that the tribute this time was less—fewer items and of lower quality that previously.  The Envoys promised that they would make up the shortfall. Around all of this, the drama between the Soga, Prince Naka no Oe, and others was playing out, with Iruka attacking and eventually killing Yamashiro no Oe, all of which was discussed in the last episode.  Meanwhile we get a small line about Prince Pung keeping four hives of bees on Mt. Miwa, but apparently they didn't grow large enough to multiply, so that doesn't seem to have taken off. We'll return to Prince Pungjang later.  For now, we have seen much of the disturbances that were caused and eventually led up to the Isshi Incident in 645, and 644 is full of many long entries about everything that happened, but I don't want to worry about that—we covered most of that last episode.  What I do want to concern ourselves with is the story I started the episode with – the curious tale of a man named Ohofube no Ohoshi, who started up his own millennial cult. Now there has been quite a bit of speculation around this episode, especially given that all we really have is a single entry, dated to the 7th month of 644, and here I'll quote Aston's translation:  “A man of the neighbourhood of the River Fuji in the East Country named Ohofu Be no Oho urged his fellow-villagers to worship an insect, saying: "This is the God of the Everlasting World. Those who worship this God will have long life and riches." At length the wizards and witches, pretending an inspiration of the Gods, said:--"Those who worship the God of the Everlasting World will, if poor, become rich, and, if old, will become young again." So they more and more persuaded the people to cast out the valuables of their houses, and to set out by the roadside sake, vegetables, and the six domestic animals. They also made them cry out: "The new riches have come!" Both in the country and in the metropolis people took the insect of the Everlasting World and, placing it in a pure place, with song and dance invoked happiness. They threw away their treasures, but to no purpose whatever. The loss and waste was extreme. Hereupon Kahakatsu, Kadono no Hada no Miyakko, was wroth that the people should be so much deluded, and slew Ohofu Be no Oho. The wizards and witches were intimidated, and ceased to persuade people to this worship. The men of that time made a song, saying: Udzumasa Has executed The God of the Everlasting World Who we were told Was the very God of Gods. This insect is usually bred on orange trees, and sometimes on the Hosoki. It is over four inches in length, and about as thick as a thumb. It is of a grass-green colour with black spots, and in appearance entirely resembles the silkworm.” This is remarkable in several ways.  For one, we get a glimpse of how a popular cult might get started.  Since it is at this same time the cult of Shotoku Taishi is taking hold in some temples, it is interesting to draw parallels between the two.  Como points this out in his book on Shotoku Taishi, and notes several other things.  For one is the discussion of this “ever-lasting world”, or Tokoyo.  We've heard of Tokoyo before – the  term is found in the Chronicles in the section around the Age of the Gods.  Sukuna Bikona himself leaps off to Tokoyo from a blade of grass in one story, much like an insect himself. Tokoyo is a bit mysterious.  It isn't the land of the dead, where Izanami goes to live when she dies in childbirth.  Neither is it the Great Plain of Heaven, Takama no hara, where Amaterasu dwells.  We have the gods of the Heavens and gods of the Earth, but no gods of Tokoyo.  Indeed, Tokoyo is mentioned, but not well described.  By all accounts it would appear to be a place that spirits go after death to an unchanging world, rather than coming back to this one. This fits in with various other continental ideas starting to come over at the time, especially as part of the Mahayana Buddhist tradition, which included a search for effective ways to reach enlightenment.  There had been feelings for some time that humans were already in the latter days of the law, or Mappo: the concept that the further we get from the time of the Buddha, the more morality would decline and the harder it would be for people to break the chains of materialism and desire that hold them to this plane of existence.  As such, some sects and teachers taught simpler and more expedient methods, in an effort to save all of the sentient beings.  Things like an abbreviated mantra that would help you get into a paradise where you could eventually attain enlightenment certainly had its adherents, especially amongst those who might not have the time or inclination to join the monastery themselves.  The idea of a Pure Land, or Joudo, took off early, This Pure Land, is most commonly connected with Amida Butsu, the Amithaba Buddha.  Sutras referencing Amida and the Pure Land were translated by Kumarajiva as early as the 5th century, and may have been part of the larger corpus of scrolls brought over to the archipelago.  According to the sutra, they say that if you honestly chant Amida Butsu's name just once—often through the phrase “Namu Amida Butsu”—then rather than being reborn again into the world on your death, you would instead be reincarnated in a Pure Land, where you could focus entirely on your own enlightenment for however long it would take, removing yourself from the pain and suffering of this world.  This practice was taught by the Sanron school as well as by the Hossou school in the 7th and 8th centuries, along with other practices.  It would continue to be taught, especially developing in the Tendai sect. Of course chanting “Namu Amida Butsu” was something you could do while working the fields, or doing any other number of profane, yet necessary tasks.  So you can see why this was an attractive idea to many people, even if they didn't have the ability to start a temple or study the scriptures or become monks or nuns themselves, at least in this life. Pure Land belief and practices continued to grow and develop in various Buddhists sects, but really took off as an independent practice in Japan in the Kamakura Period, appealing to warriors and commoners alike with its seemingly simple mantra. Shotoku Taishi himself is closely connected to the Pure Land concept, as Como points out.  He and his teacher, Eija, are both said to have attained the Pure Land upon their deaths.  The famous embroidery, commissioned after Shotoku Taishi's death, known as the Tenjukoku Mandala, presumably also describes a country of Heavenly Long Life.  “Tenjukoku” does not have an immediate connection to any particular continental sect or philosophy, but it does seem to be at least a cognate for some of these other ideas such as the Joudo Pure Land OR the Tokoyo of Ohofube no Ohoshi. Whether Ohoshi was, in fact, influenced by other continental ideas is unclear.  We're not even sure if his was the first use of the concept of “Tokoyo” or if that was an idea already planted in the public consciousness by that time—though if so, I would think it would be a bit more widespread.  One could understand, however, how people who had been through famines, floods, earthquakes, disease, and more might find the idea of an eternal ever-after where they could be rich and young again quite inviting.  Enough people found it so that they apparently were willing to give up everything they owned and place it out on the streets.  Even if this wasn't just a scheme to go and scoop up all the goods and skip town, one can see how this may have been viewed as disruptive and unhealthy for the community, at least by those comfortably seated in power, whose workforce was being pulled away from their labors to this new belief system. The ones who were spreading this good news, while called wizards and witches by Aston, use characters that one could just as easily ascribe to Shinto priests and sacred Miko.  Since Shinto wasn't fully formed as we know it today, I think it might be better to say various ritualists and diviners.  Whether they were true believers or simply “pretending” to be inspired, as the Nihon Shoki says, who can say for certain.  What makes one vision more objectively “true” than another, beyond your own belief and faith? And it should be remembered that bringing in new spiritual ideas wasn't, well, new.  That's how Buddhism got started, and likely was one of the ways that Yamato itself expanded its own influence.  How many other quote-unquote “cults” like this existed, and how many were absorbed into the establishment and how many were cast aside? In this case, it would seem that Ohoshi's main problem was likely that he was attracting the wrong sorts of people, which is to say he was appealing to commoners.  In the Warring States period, we would see a not dissimilar dynamic with the independent Joudo Shinshu, a sect of Pure Land Buddhism, supporting commoners in what became known as the ikkou ikki.  They formed communities that helped each other, but at the same time bucked the yoke of the local daimyo and others.  This would bring about violent retribution from warlords like Oda Nobunaga, who wasn't having any of it. Similarly, as the Tokoyo sect spread into Yamashiro and down into the capital region, Kadono no Hata no Miyatsuko no Kawakatsu decided to take matters into his own hands.  Ostensibly, he was upset that people would be so deluded, and under that pretext, he had Ohoshi killed and his followers intimidated.  Cutting the head off the snake, as it were, caused the body to wither, and apparently the Tokoyo cult was not so everlasting after all. And here's where we bring things back around.  You may recall Hata no Kawakatsu, or at least his family.  The progenitor of the Hata family was called Uzumasa, and even today their name is affixed to an area of Kyoto, which was built in the old Hata territory.  Hence the poem about Uzumasa executing the God of the Everlasting World. That area, from Lake Biwa down to Naniwa, is on that corridor from Yamato to Koshi.  The Hata themselves are connected with the continent—especially with Silla.   The Hata temple of Kouryuuji even has a Silla image said to have been obtained by Shotoku Taishi and given to them.  Along with Shitennoji, it is one of several Silla-influenced temples that helped promote the cult of Shotoku Taishi.  It is, of course, possible that we are reading way too much into this.  Some of these things could just be coincidence, but then again, why was it written down and why did the Chroniclers feel that it was important to spend ink on the process?  That's the real question here.   And what more was going on that never got written down, or at least not clearly?  It is likely that we will never truly know the answer to all of these questions.  Unless some ancient documents are found from the period that miraculously survived, with significantly different stories, it would be hard to say much more, but that doesn't mean we can't wonder. But that's all we'll do for now.  At this point, I think we've covered these years from 642 to 645 as best we could, and it is probably time to move on.  I'm not going to prognosticate on next episode just yet, other than to say that we will eventually need to talk about the Taika Reforms—the Great Change.  But that may take a little more time to research so that we can do it properly, but we'll see. Until then, thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for 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 look at the reign of Tamura, aka Jomei Tenno. For references and more, check out https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-105   Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 105: Onsen and Uprisings The general paced back and forth behind the walls of the fortress.  Glancing around, he couldn't help but notice how empty it now seemed.  The palisades were holding, but most of the soldiers had gone, disappearing in the night.  Outside the walls of the fortress, he could hear the Emishi laughing and singing.  They were in good spirits—and why wouldn't they be?  The great army of Yamato sent to chastise them had been routed, and they had besieged them in their fortress, built in these still wild lands of northeastern Honshu, on the edge of an area known to many as Michi no Oku, roughly: the end of the road. And for the general, it looked like this might be the end of the road for him.  His options were limited, and he was clearly outnumbered.  It was beginning to look like his troops had the right idea.  Of course, it meant leaving his wife and other women to fend for themselves, but fear can do a lot to motivate someone.  The general eyed the walls and the trees beyond.  If he could slip past the besieging forces in the darkness, perhaps he could escape.  It wouldn't be the most honorable way out of this situation, but it would at least leave him with his head.  And so, as night fell, he decided to make his move… Greetings everyone, and welcome back!  Before I get into it, a quick shout out an thank you to YamiRaven for supporting us on Patreon, and thanks to Johnny for a supporting us on Ko-Fi.com.  If you'd like to join them, and help us keep this thing going, we'll have more info at the end of the episode. Speaking of: This episode we are going to be talking about events during the reign of Prince Tamura, also known as Okinaga Tarashi-hi Hiro-nuka, or by the name given to him by the 8th century chroniclers: Jomei Tennou.  As we discussed back in episode 103, Prince Tamura came to power in an interesting turn of fate.  The grandson of Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tenno, his father, Prince Hikobito no Ohoye was killed during the tumultuous period following Nunakura's death.  After several short-lived reigns, it was Kashikiya Hime, wife to Nunakura, who took the throne, known to us as Suiko Tennou. Kashikiya Hime had named an heir, Crown Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi, but he died before she did and by the time that Kashikiya Hime passed away, there was nobody clearly set up to take the throne, though two candidates did stand out.  There was Prince Yamashiro no Ohoye, the son of Crown Prince Umayado, whom a strict lineal succession might seem to indicate was next up to inherit, but Yamato inheritance tradition was not so cut and dried.  Soga no Emishi, the son of Soga no Umako, the powerful Oho-omi who helped run the government during Kashikiya Hime's reign, campaigned to put Prince Tamura on the throne, rather than Yamashiro no Ohoye, despite—or perhaps because of—the fact that Yamashiro no Ohoye was actually a close relative to Emishi. Now Prince Tamura was on the throne and Soga no Emishi was the Oho-omi, taking his father's place. And yet, despite the chaotic start to the reign in 629, the majority of it was almost tame and nondescript.  Don't get me wrong, Tamura, as I'll keep referring to him, was on the throne for a respectable thirteen years, and during that time there were certainly events that move our narrative forward in many ways.  However, much of the years of his reign are filled with discussions of things like rain storms and celestial phenomena.  In fact, the only thing that apparently happened in all of 634 was that they saw a comet in the sky.  The year before that, in 633, the only entry was the return of envoys from the Tang.  For two years, then, there is hardly a mention of politics and anything else going on.  And yet, this is a period that would set the stage for what was coming next. Shortly after Tamura was appointed sovereign, he appointed his consort, Princess Takara, as his queen.  Takara was, herself, a great-great grand-daughter of Nunakura Futodamashiki, a granddaughter of Prince Hikobito and daughter of Prince Chinu—presumably niece to Tamura, then, which is basically par for the course.  She was also a royal descendant on her mother's side, tracing back to Nunakura's father, Ame Kuniyoshi, aka Kinmei Tennou.  In fact, her mother, Kibitsu Hime, is said to have been buried in her own kofun at the head of Ame Kuniyoshi's kofun—and today it is the site of the 7th century saruishi figures that I mentioned in the talk about traveling around Asuka. Takara would give birth to three children of note.  The first was her eldest son, Prince Katsuraki, who would, spoiler alert, later be known as Crown Prince Naka no Ohoye.  He was around three years old when his father took the throne.  He had a sister by Takara, named Hashibito, and a brother, whose name you may have heard me mention previously:  Oho-ama. Yes, Naka no Ohoye and Oho-ama are the future sovereigns Tenji and Temmu, but for now they are still relatively young.  In fact, Oho-ama wouldn't be born until several years into his father's reign, in 631. Some of the early events of the reign were carryover from Kashikiya Hime's time on the throne.  In 629, for instance, Tanabe no Muraji went to Yakushima, returning the following year, and with people coming to Yamato from Yakushima the year after that. There were also a fair number of foreign embassies, including an Embassy from Goguryeo and Baekje.  These may have been missions of condolences and congratulations—typical international diplomacy at the time when a neighboring ruler passed away and a new one ascended the throne, it would seem.  They arrived in the third month of 630 and departed in the 9th month of that same year—a 6 month visit, all told. We also have the first actual account of ambassadors sent off to the Tang dynasty: Inugami no Mitasuki and Yakushi no E'nichi, each of Dainin rank.  These are some of the first true kentoushi, or Ambassadors to the Tang court, that were sent, but over time their influence would be felt across Yamato and the archipelago. These ambassadors—or at least Mitasuki—would return in 632 with a Tang ambassador, Gao Biaoren, along with student-priests Ryou'un and Soumin, as well as Suguri no Torikahi.  Perhaps most tellingly, they would arrive with Silla escort envoys, which would seem to indicate that passage to the Tang court was not done without Silla's assistance.  As you may recall, Silla had entered into a nominal alliance with the Tang against Goguryeo.  The Tang Ambassadors eventually reached Naniwa, where they were met with boats decked out with drums, flutes, and flags, and where they exchanged formal greetings before being escorted into the official residence.  The Nihon Shoki takes pains to note the different individuals involved in the duties, from the initial greeting, guiding them to the residence, and then preparing them in the residence, along with a welcome drink of sake brewed on temple rice land. And then, three months later, they depart once more.  Nothing else is said of their visit. Meanwhile, in the time between when Mitasuki went to the Tang court and when he returned with Gao Biaoren and company, a few things had happened.  For one we get a note about Tamura moving to a new palace complex known as Okamoto no miya, supposedly at the foot of Asuka hill, hence the name, which means “foot of the hill”.  This would not have been much of a change from Kashikiya Hime's palace, still within the sacred area defined by the Soga temple of Asukadera as well as various other temples being stood up in that area as well.  A move was to be expected, though in this case it is interesting that he didn't go very far. There is also mention, still in 630, of the repairing the official residences in Naniwa where ambassadors from the continent would be quartered during their trips to Yamato 631 opens with something of a treat – so it would seem, anyway.  We are told that in the third month of Tamura's third year on the throne, Prince Pung—named Pungjang in the Chronicles—was sent to the Yamato court by his father, King Wicha of Baekje.  On the one hand, the Korean sources do agree that Prince Pung was, indeed, sent to Yamato, where he would live as a guest and diplomatic hostage.  We've talked about this practice in the past, which seems to have strengthened bonds between nations, although we rarely hear of Yamato returning the favor by sending hostages to the continent.  It may have also helped keep a potential heir out of harm's way in case of a coup or other such politics.  Several times, heirs returned to Baekje to be enthroned with Yamato assistance, if the Chronicles are to be believed. Except that this entry is probably not quite right.  You see, Wicha wouldn't even come to the throne until 641—he wasn't even made Crown Prince until 632—so why would he send his son as a diplomatic hostage in 631?  Johnathan Best, translating the Baekje records of the Samguk Sagi, suggests that perhaps the Chroniclers were off by a factor of 10 or 12 years.  You see, as we mentioned earlier, the East Asian calendrical system was based on a series of ten stems and twelve branches.  The stems represented the elemental forces, and the branches were identified with the twelve signs of the zodiac.  Incrementing each one each year led to a series of 60 years before it started repeating, and based on the way that the records for this reign are dated, it looks like the records the Chroniclers were drawing from used this system for their dates.  However, if you misread—or even miswrite—one of these characters it can change your date by ten or even twelve years.  It would make much more sense for Prince Pung to have arrived twelve years later, in 643.  Similarly, we find other records, particularly having to do with Baekje, which may be a bit jumbled, possibly indicating they came from a similar source that either had things in the wrong chronological order or was simply vague or poorly scribed so that the Chroniclers had to figure out exactly what was happening when—which they may have made mistakes with, from time to time. So Prince Pung arriving as a hostage is probably misplaced, and likely didn't happen during Tamura's reign.  Which means that other than people from Yakushima showing up in 631 the only other major event of the year was Tamura going to the hot springs of Arima, in Settsu, where he stayed for about three months. Now I know I've mentioned hot springs, or onsen, before in the narrative.  After all, the volcanic islands that make up the Japanese archipelago are full of them, and it isn't like they were suddenly discovered during this reign, but it does look like this might be the first formal mention of them in the Nihon Shoki—which gives Arima, in the mountains north of Kobe, some serious bona fides to be considered the oldest known hot spring town in Japan. And that would be a cool side note in most reigns, but for Tamura it seems to have been a habit.  He apparently went for a dip at least three times in his reign—the second time, in 638, he apparently went to the “Arima no Miya”, or the Arima Palace, which suggests that he had something built specifically for his visits.  And then, in 639, he headed to the hot springs in Iyo. The country of Iyo is better known today as Ehime prefecture, on the western edge of the island of Shikoku.  The largest city in Ehime is Matsuyama, home to the famous Dougou Onsen, which also lays a claim to being the oldest operating hot springs in the archipelago.  Dougou Onsen is not only the traditional place in Iyo where Tamura, aka Jomei Tennou, took the waters, as they might say in the west, but in the Iyo Fudoki it is said that its fame goes back even further.  As we mentioned back in Chapter 18, it is said that the legendary figures Ohonamuchi and Sukuna Bikona met there, back in ancient times.  In more recent times, relatively speaking, Dougou Onsen was the inspiration behind the fantastical bathhouse created by Hayao Miyazaki in the Studio Ghibli film, Spirited Away. For all that these visits to the hot springs are somewhat interesting, they don't exactly tell us a lot about what was happening with government, and in fact tend to make it seem almost as though Tamura was skipping out, at least in the fall to early winter.  And to be honest, can you blame him?  Winter is one of the best times to go take advantage of the volcanic springs. Many of the other records appear to be natural phenomena, mostly having to do with the heavens: rain, storms, lightning, and more.  Some of the more intriguing are comets—stars with “long tails” that appeared in the skies.  There are also mentions of eclipse and what may have been a meteor—a star in 636 “floated east to west, with a noise like thunder.”  The Priest Soumin, from the Tang, said it was the sound of the Celestial Dog, a creature from the ancient Han or possibly pre-Qin text, the Classic of Mountains and Seas, a fantastical account of mythical geography and various animals, including the nine tailed fox and the celestial dog, whose bark was said to be like Thunder.  This book was considered to be a true account up through the Tang dynasty. One could probably track the celestial phenomena and see if there is any correlation with known sightings, but it is also just as likely that some of it was taken from continental records and inserted into the Chronicles as appropriate. Besides such phenomena, there were accounts of more missions, especially from Baekje.  Yamato was still using the cap rank system attributed to Prince Umayado during Kashikiya Hime's reign, and some of the envoys were given cap rank, or granted a promotion—a gesture that was likely pure diplomacy, as the rank wouldn't necessarily convey any special rights back in their home country. There are a few more things of note.  First, in 636, we are told that all those who had affairs with the uneme at court were put on trial and punished—which likely means they were put to death.  The uneme, as you may recall, were women sent to serve at the court, and as such they were apparently off-limits, at least while they were serving.  That clearly didn't stop people from having some late night escapades, though. The main reason it likely comes up, though, is that we are told that one of the accused was a man named Miwa no Kimi no Osazaki, and that he took his own life by stabbing himself in the throat because the examination—by which I'm sure they meant torture—was too much to bear.  And here I have to wonder how similar Yamato's sense of justice was to that of their neighbor, the Tang dynasty.  In the case of the latter, there was often a suspicion that any person accused of a crime must be guilty of at least something—after all, why would they have been accused if they didn't do something to upset the peace, even if it was just that they didn't get along with their neighbors.  It was considered de rigeur to submit suspected criminals to torturous ordeals with the idea that this would elicit a confession.  Unfortunately, this idea that harsh and torturous examinations can be used to uncover the truth often still persists, despite evidence that, under enough duress, most people will say anything.   In this case, it drove Osazaki to take his own life. Later in that same year, the Okamoto palace caught fire and burned down, and so Tamura moved to a new palace, called the Tanaka palace, or the Palace in the Middle of the Rice Fields.  We also have a little more court action, as Prince Ohomata, a son of Nunakura Futodamashiki by one of his consorts, reached out to Soga no Emishi—called in this record the Toyoura no Oho-omi, likely because his mansion was in or near Toyoura, in Asuka. Prince Ohomata suggested to Soga no Emishi that the ministers had not been attending court properly.  He suggested that they should be there by roughly 5 or 6 AM—an hour before daybreak—and they should stay until 10 or 11 AM.  Specifically he mentioned the hour of the hare and the hour of the serpent, as each ancient hour was actually two, with twelve hours making up the day, each named for one of the twelve signs of the Asian zodiac. To enforce all of this, Ohomata also recommended having a bell rung that would let people know that it was time to start or end work.  This was all common practice in the continental courts of the day, and it wasn't like they were asking for a modern 40 hour work week, even:  the court ministers would literally be serving for maybe 5 to 6 hours at court, with the rest of the time to handle their own affairs.  Still, Soga no Emishi apparently didn't think much of the idea and so was not inclined to support it. All of this is kind of an odd mention.  First, Ohomata is an obscure Prince—he's only mentioned three times in the Chronicles, and once just in a list of Nunakura's children.  Second, the idea doesn't go anywhere.  Third, they don't call Soga no Emishi by the name they used in both the previous or the next reign, but use Toyora no Ohoomi, for whatever reason.  It just sticks out as odd, and I wonder if it was added to show that Soga no Emishi was resistant to change and new ideas. At the same time, it does give us a clue that Soga no Emishi was still running things.  His name may not have been on a lot, but then again, neither was Tamura's, so we can only infer what was actually going on during this period.  It's  almost a lacuna in the history. There were a few other events worth noting, however, one of which took more than a bit of the Chroniclers' ink, and this was a rebellion by the Emishi people. First off, because it can be confusing:  There is no apparent link between Soga no Emishi and the Emishi people that I'm aware of.  Emishi, of course, is the name given to the people living outside of the Yamato cultural sphere in the northeast, from modern Ibaraki prefecture north.  They were apparently expected to pay tribute at court, and are clearly treated differently from other outside groups, like Baekje and Silla.  Some of them were likely members of the groups that had lived in the region since the Jomon period, who never fully adopted the Yayoi and later Kofun lifeways, and they may be related to the Ainu people who still live in modern Hokkaido, though there is also evidence that some of the Emishi may have been ethnic Wa people who had gone to live outside the Yamato court's reach—though that is more evident in later centuries than in the current narrative. I would also note that “Emishi” is an exonym—that is a name given by outsiders, in this case, by the Wa people of Yamato.  In fact, other than what we can see in the archaeological record, what we know of the Emishi comes from Yamato sources, which are almost entirely biased.  We don't really have any good telling of their story from their own perspective.  For instance,did they feel oppressed by Yamato in general, and not think they should have to keep bringing tribute?  Or was there a more specific event that occurred, much like the conflicts we see later between the Wajin, the ethnic Japanese, and the Ainu up in Hokkaido? It is unclear. To subdue the Emishi, and bring them back under Yamato hegemony, the court appointed Kamitsukeno no Kimi no Katana, a courtier of Dainin cap rank, as general. Spoiler alert: he's the general in the story at the beginning of this episode.  Based on his name, it would seem he was from the family in charge of Kamitsukenu, later shortened to Kozuke Province in modern Gunma prefecture, north of Tokyo.  As such, he would have been well positioned to know something of the Emishi on his border.  That said, he apparently didn't know them so well that it gave him an advantage.  His forces were routed and they retreated back to their fortress, where they were besieged by the Emishi. Now when I say “fortress” please don't picture some grand castle, like Himeji, Azuchi, or Matsumoto.  In fact, don't really picture a castle at all.  More likely than not, this was simply an area enclosed by a wall—possibly some earthworks and maybe a moat, but perhaps just a quickly erected palisade structure.  True castle structures wouldn't come until later.  For those familiar with American history, this may have been something like the fort at Jamestown or even the quickly assembled and ill-fated Fort Necessity—though perhaps a little larger if it was capable of housing the forces and the noncombatants that had accompanied them. And so, when some of Katana's soldiers decided they didn't really want to be there any longer they apparently just up and left.  Presumably they found a time when nobody was looking and just yeeted themselves over the walls and did their best to hide from the surrounding Emishi forces.  Pretty soon just about all of the able-bodied soldiers had taken this approach, and Katana was thinking about joining them.  In fact, he was getting ready to when his own wife noticed what he was doing. That's right, his wife was there with him.  Whether she was a combatant or simply part of the train it isn't entirely clear, but she wasn't going to have her husband run off and abandon his post.  She poured out sake for him to drink and as he did so, she took his sword and girded it to herself.  She then went and found all of the bows and handed them out to all of the other women and people who had been left behind when the soldiers deserted, and they started pulling the bowstrings back and making a sound like they were being shot. Upon seeing this, Katana roused himself, grabbed a weapon himself, and advanced out of the fortress. The besieging Emishi were not sure what to make of this.  They could hear the twang of bows, and it sounded as though there was quite a force, so as general Katana stepped out of the fortress they pulled back, thinking that there was a much bigger force than he actually had.  As they did that, some of Katana's own forces, who had escaped, but not too far, started to gain hope.  They regrouped and attacked the Emishi with fresh energy, eventually defeating them. Of course, Katana's wife remains nameless throughout this whole episode, even though she was the one who helped turn the tide—first by turning her husband, but then by organizing the others to make it seem like they had a lot more people than they did. After this fascinating story, the Chronicles getback to the normal records of storms, of fruit trees blossoming, of hot springs, and tribute.  It wasn't until two years later, in 639, that we get something interesting that we might easily overlook.  This was the start of a new temple on the banks of the Kudara River, known to us as Kudara dera, or Kudara Temple. Kudara Temple is definitely a bit of an enigma.  It is mentioned quite heavily in later records, and yet it would eventually disappear without a trace, or so it seemed.  It wasn't until modern times that archaeologists identified a temple that we believe is Kudara dera.  We are told that it had a nine-story pagoda, which may reflect ideas from Tang or Silla practice—somewhat ironic given that “Kudara” is a name used to refer to Baekje.  In this case, the name seems to have come from the Kudara River, on whose banks the temple was built.  From the 80s through the 2000s there were a series of excavations at the site of Kibi Pond north of Asuka, closer to the center of Sakurai.  Here a temple was found, which we believe to be the site of Kudara dera.  The pond itself was dug at a later point in time, on the site of the temple, which was likely moved.  Today, there is a small Kudara temple to the northwest of the old site, but it isn't nearly as grand as it once was. By all accounts, the construction of Kudara temple took years, in contrast to the building of royal palaces, which went up relatively quickly.  This is because the palaces, for all of their size, were still being made using largely local construction methods.  Posts were placed directly into the ground and the roofs were thatched.  Being made of wood, these buildings went up relatively quickly, which was good seeing as how every reign the sovereign and court would move to a new palace.  Of course, I also wonder if the tradition of moving didn't come from the fact that the palace would likely have started rotting away on its own after a while.  Then again, even in a single reign you might change palaces multiple times, as Tamura did. In contrast, we have temple construction from the mainland.  Here, rocks were set down, and the posts were placed on those, which gave a firm foundation and prevented water from easily getting in and ruining the base of the pillar.  Packed earth and stone construction were used in places, along with heavy tile roofs, for which thousands of rooftiles had to be constructed.  Centuries of architectural knowledge were used to design and create structures that were meant to outlast any patrons who helped to build them. Add on to that the nine story pagoda.  If you consider that the beautiful and imposing tenshukaku, or main keep, of Himeji castle, built in the early 17th century, is six stories and rises over 46 meters, or about 152 feet, this pagoda may have been about the same height or even a bit higher, assuming that relative proportions were similar to those in other pagodas from the time, such as that of Yakushiji.  It must have been a towering beacon at the time, and the temple is considered one of the four great temples of the Asuka era, at least by some. That this temple was commissioned by Tamura and not by Soga no Emishi is something that may indicate some unspoken tensions at the time.   Tamura's previous palaces were in Asuka, near Asuka temple, the chief temple of the Soga family, and situated in a Soga stronghold.  Kudara temple was built significantly outside of this area, though still within walking distance, so not so far as to be a complete move—it isn't like he moved it up to lake Biwa or anything, wink wink. In 640, Tamura returned from his trip to the hot springs in Iyo—again, modern Ehime prefecture—and came back to a new palace at Umayazaka, but just six months later he moved into the Kudara palace, which was presumably nearby Kudara temple, effectively moving the court out of—or at least to the periphery of—Soga controlled territory. Unfortunately, his stay at Kudara palace would only last about a year, as he passed away there in the 10th month of 641.  He was roughly 48 years old.  His son, and heir apparent, Prince Hirakasuwake, aka Naka no Oe, pronounced the funeral elegy. And just like that, the throne was vacant again.  There was an heir apparent, but Naka no Oe was only 16 years old, and so his mother, Takara, would take the throne, presumably until he was ready.  She would be known as Ame Toyo Takara Ikashi-hi Tarashi Hime, aka Kougyoku Tennou, and her reign was anything but quiet.  To give some context: if we had a little over 50 or so events recorded during the 13 years that Tamura was on the throne, while we have over 60 events recorded in just the first year of Takara's reign.   So, you know, there's that. But I'm going to have to ask you to wait a little bit for us to dig into that.  For one thing, the politics are going to start getting hot and heavy, as anyone who may recognize the name “Naka no Oe” likely knows.  As this young prince was coming into his own he was going to come face to face with the power of the Soga family.  All that, starting next episode. Until then, thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for her work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

We read the papers so you don't have to. Today: Monkey Business. We tell the story of Honshu, the Japanese macaque's highland adventure. Can't get no Satisfaction! The Daily Mail highlights the plight of a mother of 5 who has never climaxed. Plus – The Famine Queen. We take a look at the legacy of Queen Victoria and then wash our mouths out with soap and water.     Miranda Sawyer is joined by New Statesman's Jonn Elledge, Pod Save the UK's Coco Khan, Popbitch editor Chris Lochery and from the world of comedy: Scottee, Jason Hazeley, Daniel Foxx, Marcus Brigstocke, Rosie Holt and the BAFTA nominated Gráinne Maguire.     Help us to grow Paper Cuts! Send this link to THREE mates and tell them why we're your favourite podcast: papercutsshow.co.uk    Support Paper Cuts and get mugs, t-shirts and extended ad-free editions: back.papercutsshow.com    Follow Paper Cuts:  • Twitter: https://twitter.com/papercutsshow  • Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/papercutsshow  • TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@papercutsshow  • Threads: https://www.threads.net/@papercutsshow    Illustrations by Modern Toss https://moderntoss.com     Written and presented by Miranda Sawyer. Audio production: Jade Bailey, Simon Williams, Alex Rees and Robin Leeburn. Production. Liam Tait. Production Assistant: Adam Wright,. Design: James Parrett. Music: Simon Williams. Managing Editor: Jacob Jarvis. Exec Producer: Martin Bojtos. Group Editor: Andrew Harrison. PAPER CUTS is a Podmasters Production    Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

This week, we look at the flip side of the chaos of the Sengoku era in the form of two clans that rose to prominence from obscurity during the age of civil war. The first half is focused on the Mori family of western Honshu, while the second is focused on the Date, from the island's remote north. Show notes here. 

A 7.5-magnitude earthquake struck the Japan Sea coast on Monday, flattening towns on the remote Noto peninsula.If you'd like to donate to the Japanese Red Cross society you can do so here: https://www.jrc.or.jp/english/donate/We'll be back on Thursday, but if you'd like to get in touch - abroadinjapanpodcast@gmail.com... Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

It's Tuesday, January 2nd, A.D. 2024.  This is The Worldview in 5 Minutes heard at www.TheWorldview.com.  I'm Adam McManus.  (Adam@TheWorldview.com) By Kevin Swanson Vietnamese Christians hassled by Thai police Vietnamese Christians already persecuted out of their country into Thailand have now been arrested by the Thai police. International Christian Concern reports that an evangelist, Lù A Da, was arrested on December 7 in Bangkok. He is incarcerated at a local police station. In addition, 11 Montagnard Christians, who were arrested in November, were kept in prison over Christmas — at an Immigration Detention Centre.  Japanese earthquake An earthquake registering 7.6 on the Richter scale hit the west coast of Japan's big island of Honshu on New Year's Day, reports CBS News. After homes collapsed and officials issued tsunami warnings, coastal residents headed for higher ground. Six people were killed That's the most powerful earthquake that has hit Japan since 2015.  Japan is usually in the top six nations experiencing the most earthquakes each year.  Indonesia and Mexico are usually #1 and #2 on the list.  Why Ohio GOP Governor vetoed anti-transgender bill Conservatives in America are grappling with why Ohio's Republican Governor Mike DeWine vetoed a bill that would have disallowed puberty blockers for children, and banning boys, pretending to be girls, from playing on girls sports teams in public schools. According to the Federalist Papers, it turns out Governor DeWine received $40,300 from the Ohio Children's Hospital Association, Cincinnati Children's, Nationwide Children's Hospital, and ProMedica Children's Hospital for his election campaign. The president of Ohio Children's Hospital Association, Nick Lashutka, had testified against the Republican bill in the House, the bill which the Governor subsequently vetoed. To register your objection, send Governor DeWine an email through a special link in our transcript today at www.TheWorldview.com. Or send a letter to Governor Mike DeWine, 77 South High Street,  30th Floor, Columbus, OH 43215. U.S. stock compared to global stocks Are American stocks overvalued? The NASDAQ stock index has hit an all-time high, closing Friday at 16,826. That's up from 1,204 in 2009, a 14-fold increase.   The Dow Jones Industrial Average closed for the year 2023 at 37,690,  up from 7,060 in 2009. That's a 5-fold increase. Meanwhile, almost every other stock market in the world hasn't come close to these valuations.   WolfStreet.com reports that the Chinese Shanghai composite is still where it was in 2009. Japan's Nikkei is leveled off where the index stood in 1989. The UK FTSE Index is up about 50% since 2009. Spain's IBEX index is still where it was sitting in 2009. Canada's Index is up about 40% from 2008. Economist predicts 2024 “biggest single crash year in our lifetimes” Is the American industry really doing 20 to 100 times better than England, China, and Japan?  U.S. economist Harry Dent  told Fox Business: “Since 2009, this has been a 100% artificial [economy], with unprecedented money printing and deficits; $27 trillion over 15 years, to be exact. … We're in a dangerous state. 2024 is going to be the biggest single crash year we'll see in our lifetimes." The economist forecasts an 86% crash in the S&P, a 92% crash in the NASDAQ, 96% for crypto, and significant deflation on housing prices. But Jesus said, “Take heed and beware of covetousness, for one's life does not consist in the abundance of the things he possesses.” (Luke 12:15)  Our Savior also said, “Lay up for yourselves treasures in Heaven, where neither moth nor rust destroys and where thieves do not break in and steal. For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also.” (Matthew 6:19-21) Taylor Swift: Time's Person of the Year A pop music star turned out to be Time Magazine's Person of the Year for 2023. Taylor Swift is the latest goddess of pop culture. Her 131-date “Eras” world tour is on track to be the highest-grossing concert tour of all time — estimated to top $1.4 billion. Taylor Swift is known for her pro-homosexual songs such as “Welcome to New York” and “You Need to Calm Down,” as well as nihilistic themes found in “Anti-hero” and “I Don't Wanna Live Forever.”  Notable Christian leaders who died in 2023 And finally, let's remember a number of notable Christian leaders who died in 2023. They include Pastor Jack Hayford, George Verwer, Pastor Charles Stanley, Pastor Tim Keller, Christian Broadcaster Pat Robertson, and Sarah Young, author of Jesus Calling. In the words of Ecclesiastes, “Man also does not know his time. … Let us hear the conclusion of the whole matter: Fear God and keep His commandments, for this is the duty of all mankind. For God will bring every work into judgment, including every secret thing, whether good or evil.” (Ecclesiastes 9:12, 12:13-14) Close And that's The Worldview in 5 Minutes on this Tuesday, January 2nd in the year of our Lord 2024. Subscribe by iTunes or email to our unique Christian newscast at www.TheWorldview.com. Or get the Generations app through Google Play or The App Store. I'm Adam McManus (Adam@TheWorldview.com). Seize the day for Jesus Christ.

A quick succession of dozens of earthquakes struck Japan's main island of Honshu today – the worst being a 7.6 magnitude that hit at 4.10pm local time. At least six people are buried under the rubble, the government said, adding that the army had been deployed to aid rescue efforts. A huge fire is also currently raging in the residential area of Wajima, Ishikawa which was close to the epicenter of the successive earthquakes. The after-effects of the earthquakes are being felt in North Korea, South Korea and Russia's Far East, which have all issued tsunami warnings to local populations. Welcome to Day 1 of 2024, it's gonna be a wild ride as it's also Day 1,386 of 15 Days To Flatten The Curve.On this episode of the NTEB Prophecy News Podcast, things are off the charts as we've been warning you. In the Middle East, the US military is defending against missile attacks from Houthi rebels in the Red Sea, Gaza lies in a ruinous heap, transgender women are now allow to fight biological women in the boxing ring, and by all accounts America is headed for a second Civil War. Donald Trump and Joe Biden are both saying that if the other is elected, America will not survive. Everywhere you look, nothing but trouble, lots and lots of end times trouble. The UN 2030 Agenda is being released in increments as it works to prepare the world to receive Antichrist. Yet, in the midst of all this bleakness, there is hope and good news. The good news is that all these dystopian headlines are also a sign of just how close we are to the Pretribulation Rapture of the Church, and that is cause for great rejoicing.

Hear about travel to the northern island of Hokkaido in Japan as the Amateur Traveler talks to Inga from Inga's Adventures about a trip to hike in the Daisetsuzan National Park. https://amateurtraveler.com/travel-to-hokkaido-japan/ Why should someone go to Hokkaido? Inga says, "The natural beauty is the main reason to go to Hokkaido. The rugged landscapes and the feeling that you're far away from civilization is an experience. That you don't find in a lot of other places on the main island of Japan, which is Honshu. Many beautiful places to go down there, but it's a very different landscape in Hokkaido." Inga recommends this 7-day itinerary for travelers interested in exploring Hokkaido, particularly focusing on the Daisetsuzan National Park: Day 1-2: Tokyo Arrive in Tokyo and spend a day or two decompressing and adjusting to the time difference. Stay in a hotel near Tokyo Station for convenience. Day 3: Tokyo to Sapporo Exchange the JR rail pass for the Shinkansen train journey to Hokkaido. While you can fly directly to Hokkaido and save the 8-hour train journey, for Inga the journey was part of the point. You can watch the mountains rise up and the population thin out as you head north. Stay one night in Sapporo, exploring the city and visiting places like the Tokyo train station and the Sapporo Brewery. Inga and her husband also visited the Hokkaido University Botanic Garden and a museum about the Ainu, the indigenous people of Hokkaido. Day 4: Sapporo to Asahikawa Take a train to Asahikawa, a smaller town. Explore Asahikawa, staying overnight. Day 5-7: Asahikawa to Daisetsuzan National Park Take a bus to Asahidake within Daisetsuzan National Park. Stay in a traditional onsen hotel in the park, such as Daisetsuzan Shirakaba Soryokan. Explore hiking trails, including the Sugatami Loop, nature trails, and hikes to the Nakadate Onsen. Enjoy the onsen experience in the hotel. Consider exploring other hikes within the national park if time allows. Return to Tokyo: Take a bus back to Asahikawa and a train from there to Hakodate. The journey back to Tokyo can be completed in the remaining two days, either by train or by taking a flight from Hokkaido. Inga also mentions renting a car for more flexibility in exploring the national parks.  If you want a Japan experience with a heavy dose of hiking, ropeways, natural hot springs, and fumaroles consider heading north to Hokkaido.

What? Bonus content, already?! That's right! The Krewe is here with a surprise bonus episode to talk about the 2024 JET Program Application Cycle. Returning guest Tye Ebel, JET Coordinator for the Consulate-General of Japan in Nashville, is back, this time with his colleague Jonathan Contrades, Culture Coordinator at the same consulate. Together, they share some excellent insight & updates (along with crucial tips & tricks) to tackling and approaching this year's JET Application.. from Statement of Purpose (SOP) tips to handling referral letters. Don't miss out!------ About the Krewe ------The Krewe of Japan Podcast is a weekly episodic podcast sponsored by the Japan Society of New Orleans. Check them out every Friday afternoon around noon CST on Apple, Google, Spotify, Amazon, Stitcher, or wherever you get your podcasts.  Want to share your experiences with the Krewe? Or perhaps you have ideas for episodes, feedback, comments, or questions? Let the Krewe know by e-mail at kreweofjapanpodcast@gmail.com or on social media (Twitter: @kreweofjapan, Instagram: @kreweofjapanpodcast, Facebook: Krewe of Japan Podcast Page, TikTok: @kreweofjapanpodcast, LinkedIn: Krewe of Japan LinkedIn Page & the Krewe of Japan Youtube Channel). Until next time, enjoy!------ Support the Krewe! Offer Links for Affiliates ------Use the referral links below & our promo code from the episode (timestamps [hh:mm:ss] where you can find the code)!Liquid IV Offer Link  to save 20% Off your Entire Order! (00:01:06)Zencastr Offer Link - Use my special link to save 30% off your 1st month of any Zencastr paid plan!  (00:42:40)------ JET Program-Related Links ------JET Program USA Application PortalJET Program USA WebsiteJET Programme International WebsiteJETAA Mid-South (JET Alumni Chapter for New Orleans area, as well as LA, AR, MS) Facebook GroupJETAA Mid-South SiteMemphis Japan Fest (11/05/2023)------ JSNO Upcoming Events ------JSNO Event Calendar11/5/23 - Kwaidan Book Club: Never Let Me Go11/9/23 - JSNO Annual Meeting 202311/18/23 - Ikebana Workshop11/29/23 - Spirited Away Screening @ Margaret Place (Link TBD)

This episode we will look at the influences on Japan from the continent, starting with what was going on between the archipelago and the peninsula with tribute--in the form of birds and even books--as well as conflict.  We'll start to look at what sorts of knowledge was being passed over to Japan in the form of various books, and hopefully set the stage for changes that we will eventually see in the form of the Yamato government, itself. For more, check out our blog post at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-94 Rough Transcript   Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is Episode 94: Magpies, Buddhism, and the Baekje Summer Reading Program This is one of a multi-part series discussing the late 6th and early 7th centuries during the reign of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennou.  Last episode, Episode 93, I did a very quick overview of just what is going on and some of the players involved.  This episode I want to start deep diving into some of the topics, and we're going to start with looking at the relationship between Yamato and the Continent, primarily, but not exclusively, through their relationships, the gifts and tribute that was going back and forth, and immigration—primarily from Baekje and Silla—and the importation of new ideas, not just Buddhism.  This in turn would would eventually lead to a formal change in the way that the Yamato state governed itself and how it came to see itself even as an equal to that of the Sui court, which had unified the various kingdoms of the Yangtze and Yellow River Basins in the area of modern China. To begin, we'll go back a bit, because this dynamic isn't simply about Kashikiya Hime, Soga no Umako, or any one, single figure—though that is often how it is portrayed.  To start with, let's cover some background and what we know about the archipelago and the continent. As we went over many, many episodes back, the early Yayoi period, prior to the Kofun period, saw a growth in material cultural items that were from or quite similar to those on the Korean peninsula.  There had been some similarities previously, during the Jomon period, but over the course of what now looks to be 1200 to 1300 years, the is evidence of people going regularly back and forth across the straits.  It is quite likely that there were Wa cultural entities on both sides in the early centuries BCE, and there are numerous groups mentioned on the Korean peninsula, presumably from different ethno-linguistic backgrounds, though typically only three areas get much focus: The Samhan, or three Han, of Mahan, Byeonhan, and Jinhan. Later this would shift to three Kingdoms:  Baekje, Silla, and Goguryeo, and they would  get almost all of the press.  Still, we know that there were groups like the Gaya, or Kara, confederacy, and likely other small, eventually isolated groups that did not have their stories written down anywhere, other than mentions in the Chronicles of Japan or of one of the other three major Kingdoms of the peninsula. These groups continued to trade with the continent, and as the archipelago entered the period of mounded tombs, they were doing so as part of a larger mounded tomb cultural area that included both the archipelago and the Korean peninsula: First the funkyubo, which is to say burial mounds, with multiple burials, and then the kofun, the singular tomb mounds for an individual and possibly their direct relatives.  This tradition reached its apex with the distinct zenpo-koen, or round-keyhole style, kofun, an innovation that was rooted in continental practice but at the same time distinctly a part of the archipelago. Many artifacts came over throughout this period, and a fair number of them came with a new innovation: writing.  There is debate over the earliest forms of “writing” to be found in the islands, with evidence of characters on pottery being questioned as to its authenticity.  However, it is hard to question the writing that appeared on the early bronze mirrors and other such artifacts that showed up. Early writing on the archipelago is more decorative or even performative—crude attempts to copy existing characters that often demonstrate a lack of understanding, at least by the artisans that were making various elite goods.  Though, based on the fact that even obvious forgeries with nonsense characters made their way into tombs as grave goods, we can probably assume that most of the elites were not too concerned with writing, either, other than for its decorative, and possibly even talismanic qualities. In the fourth and fifth centuries, this began to change.  We have specialists and teachers coming over to the archipelago, often there as tutors for the royal Baekje princes who were apparently staying in Yamato as part of a diplomatic mission.  No doubt some Yamato elites began to learn to read and write, but even at this point it seems to have been more of a novelty, and for several centuries reading and writing would seem to have remained largely the purview of educated immigrant communities who came to Yamato and set up shop. Though, along with things like the horse, writing may have nonetheless assisted Yamato in extending its authority, as speech could now, with a good scribe, be committed to paper or some other medium and then conveyed great distances without worry about something begin forgotten. So, at this point, writing appears to mostly be utilitarian in purpose.  It fills a need.  That said, we have discussion of the Classics, and as reading and writing grew, exposure to writings on philosophy, religion, and other topics expanded.  After all, reading meant that you were no longer reliant on simply whom you could bring over from the continent.  Instead, you could import their thoughts—or even the thoughts of humans long dead—and read them for yourself.  In the early 6th century, we see Baekje sending over libraries worth of books.  These are largely focused on Buddhist scriptures, but they also include other works of philosophy as well.  It is unclear to me how much the evangelical nature of Buddhism contributed to this spread.  Buddhism exhorts believers to share the Buddha's teachings with all sentient beings.  Even during the Buddha's lifetime, his disciples would go out and teach and then gather back with their teacher during the rainy season. Buddhist teachings, coming over in books—the sutras—came alongside of other writings.  There were writings about philosophy, about medicine, and about science, including things that we might today consider magical or supernatural.  Those who knew how to read and write had access to new knowledge, to new ideas, and to new ways of thinking.  We can see how all of this mixed in the ways that things are described in the Chronicles.  For example, we see that many of the rulers up to this point have been described in continental terms as wise and sage kings.  Now, as Buddhism starts to gain a foothold, we see Buddhist terminology entering in to the mix.  In some ways it is a mishmash of all of the different texts that were coming over, and it seems that things were coming more and more to a head. In addition, there were things going on over on the continent as well, and this would come to also affect the archipelago.  For one thing, this was a period of unification and consolidation of the various state polities.  Baekje and Silla had been consolidating the smaller city-states under their administration for some time, and in 589 the Sui dynasty finally achieved what so many had tried since the time of the Jin—they consolidated control over both the Yangtze and Yellow River basins.  They set up their capital, and in so doing they had control of the largest empire up to that point in the history of East Asia.  The Sui dynasty covered not only these river basins, but they also had significant control over the Western Regions, out along the famous Silk Road. The Sui could really make some claim to being Zhongguo, the Middle Kingdom, with so many of the trade routes passing through their territory.  They also controlled the lands that were the source of so much of the literary tradition—whether that was the homelands of sages like Confucius, or else the gateway to India and the home of Buddhism.  It is perfectly understandable that those states in the Sui's orbit would enter a period of even further Sinification.  For the archipelago this was likely through a lens tinted by their intermediaries on the Korean peninsula, but even they were clearly looking to the Sui and adopting some of the tools of statecraft that had developed over in the lands of the Middle Kingdom. During the early years of the Sui, Yamato had been involved in their own struggles, and at the end of the previous reign Yamato had an army in Tsukushi poised to head over and chastise Silla for all that they had done to Nimna, but then Hasebe was assassinated, and it is unclear what actually happened to that expedition.  Yamato started gathering an army in 591, and Kishi no Kana and Kishi no Itahiko were sent to Silla and Nimna, respectively, as envoys, and then we are told that in 595 the generals and their men arrived from Tsukushi.  Does that mean that they went over to the peninsula, fought, and then came back from Tsukushi?  It is all a little murky, and not entirely clear to me. Rather, we are told that in 597 the King of Baekje sent Prince Acha to Yamato with so-called “tribute”—the diplomatic gifts that we've discussed before, re-affirming Baekje and Yamato's alliance.  Later that same year, Iwagane no Kishi was sent to Silla, so presumably Yamato and Silla relations had improved.  Iwagane no Kishi returned back some five months later, in 598, and he offered a gift from the Silla court of two magpies to Kashikiya Hime.  We are told that they were kept in the wood of Naniwa, where they built a nest in a tree and had their young. Aston notes here that magpies are plentiful on the continent but not in Japan.  Indeed, their natural range is noted across eastern China and up through the Amur river region, as well as a subspecies up in Kamchatka, and yet it seems like they didn't exactly stray far from the coast.  In modern Japan, the magpie, is considered to be an invasive species, and the current populations likely were brought over through trade in the late 16th century, suggesting that this initial couple of birds and their offspring did not exactly work out.  Even today magpies are mostly established in Kyushu, with occasional sightings further north—though they have been seen as far north as Hokkaido.  Perhaps Naniwa just was not quite as hospitable for them.  There is also the possibility that the term “magpie” was referencing some other, similar bird.  That is always possible and hard to say for certain.  That said, it is part of a trend, as four months later, in the autumn of 598, a Silla envoy brought another bird:  this time a peacock. Not to be outdone, apparently, a year later, in the autumn of 599, Baekje sent a veritable menagerie:  a camel, two sheep, and a white pheasant.  Presumably these were sent alive, though whether or not there was anyone in Japan who knew how to take care of them it is unclear.  I can only imagine what it must have been like to have such animals on board the ship during the treacherous crossing of the Korea strait—for all we know there were other exotic gifts that were likewise sent, but these are the only ones that made it. And if this sounds far-fetched, we have plenty of evidence of the exotic animal trade.  Animals such as ostriches, and possibly even a giraffe or two, were somehow moved all the way from Africa along the silk road to the court in Chang'an. There were also “tribute” gifts sent from parts of the archipelago, though I suspect this was quite different from the diplomatic gifts shared between states.  For example, there was a white deer sent to Kashikiya Hime from the land of Koshi in the winter of 598.  It was no camel or magpie, but white or albino animals—assuming that wasn't their normal color—were considered auspicious symbols. Also, in 595 there was a huge log that washed ashore in Awaji.  A local family hauled it up and went to use it as firewood when they noticed that it gave off a particularly sweet smell.  Immediately they put out the fire, as they suddenly realized what they had:  it was a log of aloeswood.  Aloeswood is well known as one of the most highly prized aromatic woods, and it famously does not grow in Japan.  In fact, it is a tropical wood, growing in Southeast Asia.  For a log to have washed ashore is almost unbelievable—perhaps it was part of a trade shipment that sank.  It isn't impossible that a log somehow fell, naturally, into the ocean and followed the currents all the way up to Japan, which would have been quite the journey. And so, with such a rare gift, the people offered it up to Kashikiya Hime.  This was probably the best course of action.  They could use it for themselves, but that likely wouldn't have done much other than help perfume the air for a time.  Or they could have tried to sell it—but given the rarity, I'm sure there would have been questions.  In both cases, I suspect that they would have been at risk of some elite getting wind and deciding that they should just take it for themselves.  By offering it to the court, publicly, they received the credit for it, at least—and it probably put them in favor with the court at least for a little while. Logs like this would be treated with immense respect.  Small pieces would be taken, often ground down and used sparingly.  A piece much like this called “Ranjatai” came over as a gift from the Tang dynasty in the 8th century, and was later preserved at Todaiji in the 8th century, and is still there as part of the Shosoin collection. The story of this particular one is interesting in that knowledge of aloeswood and the tradition of scent appreciation likely came over from the continent, probably from the Sui and Tang dynasties, as part of the overall cultural package that the archipelago was in the midst of absorbing. Despite the apparently good relations indicated by gifts like magpies or peacocks, it is clear there were still some contentions with Silla, especially given that nobody had forgotten their takeover of Nimna, and it didn't help that in 600, we are told that Silla and Nimna went to war with each other--again.  It isn't clear just how involved Yamato was in this, if at all—by all accounts, Nimna has already been under Silla control.  Was this a local rebellion?  An attempt by Yamato and Baekje to split it off?  Or something else?  Or is it just a fabrication to justify the next bit, where we are told that Kashikiya Hime sent an army of 10,000 soldiers under the command of Sakahibe no Omi as Taishogun and Hozumi no Omi as his assistant, the Fukushogun?  They crossed the waters over to Silla and laid siege to five of Silla's fortresses, forcing Silla to raise the white flag.  The Nihon Shoki claims that Silla then ceded six fortified places:  Tatara, Sonara, Pulchikwi, Witha, South Kara, and Ara. Since Silla submitted, the Yamato troops stopped their assault and Kashikiya Hime sent Naniwa no Kishi no Miwa to Silla and Naniwa no Kishi no Itahiko to Nimna to help broker some sort of peace.  Interestingly, this seems quite similar to the account of 591, when they sent “Kishi no Itahiko”, with no mention of Naniwa.  Presumably it is the same individual, and I have to wonder if it isn't the same event, just relocated and duplicated for some reason. A peace was brokered, and the Yamato troops departed, but it seems that Silla was dealing in something other than good faith: no sooner had the Yamato troops gotten back in their boats than Silla once again invaded Nimna, again. I'd like to stress that there is no evidence of this at all that I could find in the Samguk Sagi, and it is possible that some of this is in the wrong section, possibly to simply prop up this period, in general.  However, it is equally as likely that the Samguk Sagi simply did not record a loss to Yamato—especially one that they quickly overturned, setting things back to the status quo.  As such, the best we can say is that Silla and Yamato around this time were less than buddy buddy. With Silla going back on their word, Yamato reached out to Goguryeo and Baekje in 601.  Ohotomo no Muraji no Kurafu went to Goguryeo, while Sakamoto no Omi no Nukade traveled to Baekje.  Silla was not just waiting around, however, and we are told that Silla sent a spy to Yamato, but they were arrested and found out in Tsushima.  They arrested him and sent him as tribute to the Yamato court. We are told that the spy's name was “Kamata”, and he was banished to Kamitsukenu—aka the land of Kenu nearer to the capital, later known as Kouzuke.  And there are a few things about this story that I think we should pull on. First off, that name: Kamata.  That feels very much like a Wa name, more than one from the peninsula.  We aren't told their ethnicity, only whom they were working for, so it may have been someone from Wa, or possibly that is just the name by which they were known to the archipelago.  There likely were Wa who were living on the peninsula, just like there were people from Baekje, Silla, and Koguryeo living in the archipelago, so that's not out of the question.  Furthermore, it would make sense, if you wanted to send someone to spy on Yamato, to use someone who looked and sounded the part. The punishment is also interesting.  They didn't put him to death.  And neither did they imprison him.  In fact, I'm not sure that there would have been anywhere to imprison him, as there wasn't really a concept of a “prison” where you just lock people up.  There may have been some form of incarceration to hold people until they could be found guilty and punished, but incarceration as a punishment just doesn't really come up.  Instead, if you wanted to remove someone, banishment seems to have been the case—sending them off somewhere far away, presumably under the care of some local official who would make sure that they didn't run off.  Islands, like Sado Island, were extremely useful for such purposes, but there are plenty of examples where other locations were used as well. They probably could have levied a fine, as well, but that seems almost pointless, as he would have been free to continue to spy on Yamato.  Instead they sent him about as far away from Silla and Silla support as they could send him. This also speaks to the range of Yamato's authority.  It would seem that Tsushima was at least nominally reporting to Yamato, though given that he was sent as “tribute” to the court, that may indicate that they still had some level of autonomy.  And then there must have been someone in Kamitsukenu in order to banish someone all the way out there, as well. Of course, given all of this, it is hardly surprising that Yamato was back to discussing the possibility of making war with Silla again.  And so, in the second month of 602, Prince Kume was appointed for the invasion of Silla, and he was granted the various “Be” of the service of the kami—possibly meaning groups like the Imbe and the Nakatomi, along with the Kuni no Miyatsuko, the Tomo no Miyatsuko, and an army of 25,000 men.  And they were ready to go quickly—only two months later they were in Tsukushi, in the district of Shima, gathering ships to ferry the army over to the peninsula. Unfortunately, two months later, things fell apart.  On the one hand, Ohotomo no Muraji no Kurafu and Sakamoto no Omi no Nukade returned back from Baekje, where they likely had been working with Yamato's allies.  Kurafu had been on a mission to Goguryeo and Nukade had been sent to Baekje the previous year.  However, at the same time, Prince Kume fell ill, and he was unable to carry out the invasion. In fact, the invasion was stalled at least through the next year, when, in about the 2nd month of 603, almost a year after Prince Kume had been sent out, a mounted courier brought news to Kashikiya Hime that he had succumbed to his illness.  She immediately consulted with her uncle, Soga no Umako, and the Crown Prince, Umayado, and asked them for their counsel.  Ultimately, she had Kume's body taken to Saba in Suwo, out at the western end of the Seto Inland Sea side of western Honshu, modern Yamaguchi Prefecture, where the prince was temporarily interred, with Hashi no Muraji no Wite, possibly a local official, overseeing the ceremony.  Later, Wite's descendants in the region were called the Saba no Muraji.  Kume was finally buried atop Mt. Hanifu in Kawachi. A quick note here about time.  It is sometimes difficult to figure out just what happened when.  This is all noted for the fourth day of the second month of 603.  Clearly it didn't all happen in one day, so what actually happened on that day?   Remember, Kume fell ill in the 6th month of 602, and we are now in the 2nd month of the following year.  So did he fall ill and then was wasting away for 8 months before he passed away?  Or is this the date when the court learned of his death?  Or is it the date when his body was finally buried?  There is a lot going on, and they don't exactly provide a day-to-day.  My general take is that this is when the news arrived at the court, which is when there would have been a court record, while the rest was likely commentary added for context, even if it happened much later. In addition, this whole thing holds some questions for me, not the least the name of this prince:  Kume.  Presumably, Kume was a full brother to none other than the Crown Prince, Prince Umayado.  He was also a son of Princess Anahobe and the sovereign, Tachibana no Toyohi, and we have seen then name “Kume” before as a name, or at least a sobriquet, for someone in the royal family.  However, it also means “army”, which seems surprisingly on the nose, given that all we are given about him is that he was supposed to lead an army.  It makes me wonder if this wasn't one of those half-remembered stories that the Chroniclers included without all of the information.  Then again, maybe Kume really was his name, and this is all just a coincidence. I also would note that it was not typical to have a royal prince leading an expedition like this.  Typically, the taishogun would be someone from an influential family, but not a member of the royal family, themselves.  That this army was being led by a royal prince also seems to speak to how this was seen as significant.  Perhaps that is why, when Kume passed away, they chose as his replacement his older brother:  Tahema. [Look up more on Tahema and if I can find out about him] Tahema was selected to take over for his younger brother on the first day of the 4th month of 603, and 3 months later, on the 3rd day of the 7th month, he was leaving out of Naniwa.  He didn't get very far, however.  Tahema embarked on this adventure along with his own wife, Princess Toneri.  We've seen this in past episodes, where women were in the camp alongside their husbands, directly supporting the campaigns.  Unfortunately, in this case, Princess Toneri died shortly into their journey, at Akashi.  This is recorded as only three days after they had departed, which likely means it happened quickly.  They buried her at Higasa Hill, but Tahema, likely grieving his loss, returned, and never carried out the invasion. Five years later, things may have improved with Silla, as there were a number of immigrants—we are only told that they were “many persons”—came to settle in Japan.  What isn't noted is whether or not this was of their own volition.  What forces drove them across from the peninsula?  Did they realize that there were opportunities to come and provide the Yamato elites with their continental knowledge and skills?  Were they prisoners of war?  If so, where was the war?  Or were they fleeing conflict on the peninsula?  Perhaps political refugees?  It isn't exactly clear. While things were rocky with Silla, relations seem to have been much better with the Baekje and Goguryeo.  While exotic animals may have been the gift of choice in the early part of the period, by 602, Baekje and Goguryeo were both sending gifts of a different sort.  These were more focused on spiritual and intellectual pursuits.  And so, in 602, a Baekje priest named Kwalleuk—or Kanroku, in the Japanese pronunciation—arrived bringing books on a number of different subjects, which three or four members of the court were assigned to study.  We don't know exactly what the contents of each book was, but based on what we generally know about later theories, we can probably make some educated guesses that much of this was probably based on concepts of yin and yang energies.  Yin and yang, were considered primal energies, and at some point I will need to do a full episode just on this, but during the Han dynasty, many different cosmological theories came together and were often explained in terms of yin and yang.  So elemental theory is explained as each element has some different portion of yin and yang, and similarly different directions, different times of day, and different times of the year were all explained as different proportions of yin and yang energies, which then contributed to whether certain actions would be easier or more difficult—or even outright dangerous. The book on calendar-making, or ”koyomi”, was assigned to Ohochin, whose name suggests that he may have been from a family from the continent, and he was the ancestor of the Yako no Fumibito.  Calendar-making was considered one of the more important roles in continental sciences, although it never quite took off to the same degree in Yamato.  Still, it described the movement of the stars and how to line up the lunar days with various celestial phenomena.  It also was important for understanding auspicious and inauspicious days, directions, and more—arts like divination, geomancy, and straight up magic would often provide instructions that required an understanding of the proper flow of yin and yang energies, as represented by the elements, and expressed on the calendar in terms of the elemental branch and stem system, with each day being related to a given element in an either greater or lesser capacity, usually related as the elder or younger brother.  Events might be scheduled to take place, for instance, on the first rat day of the first month, and so the calendar maker would be the one to help determine when that would be.  Also, since the solar and lunar calendars were not in synch, there would occasionally be a need for a “leap month”, often known as an extra-calendrical month, which would typically just repeat the previous month.  This would happen, literally, “once in a blue moon”, an English expression referring to a solar month with two full moons.  In fact, we just had one of those last month, in August of 2023. This isn't to say that the archipelago didn't have a system of keeping track of seasons, etc.  Clearly they were successfully planting and harvesting rice, so they had knowledge of roughly what time it was in the year, though there are some thoughts that a “year” was originally based on a single growing period, leading to two or three “years” each solar year.  Either way, farmers and others no doubt knew at least local conditions and what to look for regarding when to plant, and when to perform local ceremonies, but this was clearly a quote-unquote, “scientific” approach, based on complex and authoritative sounding descriptions of yin and yang energies. Closely related to the calendar-making studies, another book that the Baekje priest Kwalleuk brought over was one on Astronomy, or “Tenmon”, a study of the heavens, which was studied by Ohotomo no Suguri no Kousou.  For perhaps obvious reasons, astronomy and calendar-making were closely aligned, since the change in the stars over the course of the year would often have impacts on the calendar.  However, this was also likely very closely aligned with something akin to astrology, as well, following the celestial paths of various entities, many of those being things like planets.  If you aren't aware, planets, though they often appear in the sky as “stars”, have apparently erratic movements across the heavens.  The stars generally remain fixed, and from our perspective appear to “move” together throughout the year.  Planets, however, take funky loop-de-loop paths through our sky, as they, like the earth, are also orbiting the sun.  Furthermore, different planets orbit at different speeds.  All of this leads to some apparently strange movements, especially if you envision the sky as a round dome over a flat earth.  There are also other phenomenon, from regular meteor showers to comets, and even eclipses, all of which were thought to have their own reasons.  Some of these were considered natural—neither auspicious nor inauspicious—while others were thought to impact the flow of yin yang energy on the earth, thus potentially affecting our day-to-day lives. Kousou was apparently trying to get the special bonus for the summer reading program, because he also studied another book that came over from Baekje on a subject that Aston translates as “Invisibility”, or “tonkou”.  This is a little less obvious an explanation.  I don't think that they were literally studying, ninja-style, how to not to be seen.  In discussions of kami we've talked in the past about visible kami and, thus, conversely, invisible kami.  It appears to be based on a type of divination to help better understand auspicious and inauspicious signs, and is based on a blend of various theories, again connected to a large yin-yang theory. Finally, there was another volume that was studied by Yamashiro no Omi no Hinamitsu that Aston translates as straight up “magic”, or “houjutsu”.  Of course, in the worldview at the time, Magic was just another science that we didn't understand.  By understanding the flow of yin and yang, one can affect various things, from helping cure disease and heal the sick to causing calamity, even to the point of possibly learning the secrets of immortality. Much of this would fall into the terms “onmyoudou”, the way of Yin and Yang, and there had been some work on that introduced earlier.  That it was being introduced by a Buddhist priest demonstrates what I was saying earlier about just how interconnected it all was. Other Buddhist gifts were much more straightforward.  In 605, for instance, the king of Goguryeo sent 300 Ryou of what they call “yellow metal”, possibly an admixture of gold and copper, for a Buddhist image.  Five years later they sent two priests.  One of them, Tamchi, is said to have known the Five Classics, that is the Confucian classics, as well as how to prepare different colored paints, paper, and ink. All of this is interesting, but it is the usual suspects.  Yamato had been siphoning off culture and philosophy from the states and kingdoms of the Korean peninsula for some time, and in that time, they began to adopt various continental practices.  In later centuries, much of this would be attributed to the work of Shotoku Taishi, aka Prince Umayado, especially the transmission of Buddhist thought, although for the most part we haven't actually seen a lot of that in the Chronicles themselves, which we'll get to. However, later stories paint him as one of the main forces pushing for reform in the court, especially when they would eventually push for a new, 17 article constitution, based on principles pulled from a variety of sources—both Buddhist and Han philosophical foundations.  Along with that constitution, the court also instituted a 12 rank system for court ministers.  This ranking system would remain in place, eventually replacing entirely the kabane system that ranked individuals based on their family in favor of ranking one for their individual achievements.  Furthermore, it wasn't just a status symbol.  Rank would come into play in all aspects of courtly life, from the parts of the palace you were allowed to be in, the kinds of jobs you could do, and even the amount that you were paid for your service, making the families of the land part of and dependent on the bureaucracy. And with such a system in place, there was only one natural thing for it:  The Yamato court would reach out beyond the Korean peninsula and go directly to the source.  They would send envoys to the court of the Sui Emperor himself and establish relations with the Middle Kingdom directly, leading to one of the most famous diplomatic incidents in all of the early Japanese history. And that is where I'm going to have to leave it for now, because once we get into that rabbit hole we are going to have a whole other episode.  And so now we are fully grounded in our foundation.  We can see Yamato importing people and also ideas from the continent, through the peninsula, and those ideas are taking root.  They are causing changes, at least at the Yamato court, but those changes would eventually make there way throughout society, and forever change Japan and even how they see themselves.  The lens of what is commonly seen as Buddhist and Confucian thought would be a powerful tool that would shape the ideas to come. Until next time, 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.

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