Podcasts about Kojiki

Bright on Buddhism - Episode 99 - What is the history of anti-Buddhist thought in Japan? What is its social and political context? What is the state of Buddhism in Japan today? Resources: Hur, Nam-lin. 2007. Death and Social Order in Tokugawa Japan: Buddhism, Anti-Christianity, and the Danka System. 1st ed. Vol. 282. Harvard University Asia Center. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctt1tg5pht.; Ketelaar, James Edward. 1990. Of Heretics and Martyrs in Meiji Japan: Buddhism and Its Persecution. Princeton University Press. https://doi.org/10.2307/j.ctv173dzs8.; LaFleur, William R. 1986. The Karma of Words: Buddhism and the Literary Arts in Medieval Japan.; Nihon Koten Bungaku Daijiten Henshū Iinkai (1986). Nihon Koten Bungaku Daijiten (in Japanese). Iwanami Shoten. ISBN 4-00-080067-1.; Ono, Motonori Shinto: The Kami Way; Starrs, Roy (2005). "The Kojiki as Japan's National Narrative", in Asian Futures, Asian Traditions, edited by Edwina Palmer. Folkestone, Kent: Global Oriental, ISBN 1-901903-16-8; Wittkamp, Robert F. (2018). "The Body as a Mode of Conceptualization in the Kojiki Cosmogony" in「東西学術研究所紀要」第51輯 (Tōzai gakujutsu kenkyūsho kiyō 51, pp. 47–64, PDF online available).; Wittkamp, Robert F. (2020): "Re-Examining Japanese Mythologies: Why the Nihon Shoki has two books of myths but the Kojiki only one" in「東西学術研究所紀要」第53輯 (Tōzai gakujutsu kenkyūsho kiyō 53, pp. 13–39, PDF online available).; Yamaguchi, Yoshinori; Takamitsu Kōnoshi (1997). Nihon Koten Bungaku Zenshū: Kojiki. Tōkyō: Shogakukan. ISBN 4-09-658001-5. Do you have a question about Buddhism that you'd like us to discuss? Let us know by finding us on email or social media! https://linktr.ee/brightonbuddhism Credits: Nick Bright: Script, Cover Art, Music, Voice of Hearer, Co-Host Proven Paradox: Editing, mixing and mastering, social media, Voice of Hermit, Co-Host

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.

This episode we continue looking at the Taika reforms, covering only 3 months, but with edicts about mounded tombs, the labor due to the state vice individuals, and a variety of "offenses", often countering current practices such as forcing people to undergo "harai" in many instances. For more, check out the blog at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-110 Rough Transcript: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 110: Manual Labor, Mounded Tombs, and Marital Missteps. Maro sat by the small campfire he had made along the river's edge.  The water nearby was going to be the catalyst for the gruel that he was making with some of the last bit of food that he had.  As he stirred the pot, he looked over at his friend, lying out, his head propped up against the rock. Maro and Sumi had been working on one of the large tombs in Asuka at the commandof their lord, who had built it for his deceased father.  Now they were released and headed back to their village, still two days out.  Unlike their superiors, they didn't get horses to ride across the landscape, so it would be a few days before they returned home.  Unfortunately, Sumi had grown ill, and he was now almost delirious with fever.  Maro couldn't bear to leave his friend, but he also cursed his luck. What if Sumi were to die?  It was one thing to die at home, or even when they were working on the tomb.  But now they were travelers—strangers on the road.  If something happened to Sumi, Maro knew he couldn't just leave him, but neither could he go trudging through the countryside with a dead body.  Even association with death would bring problems for him, and if local villagers were to find out, they could force him to pay for the necessary ritual purification—or worse.  Heck, even something as simple as cooking rice on the side of the road could bring problems for a poor traveler—hence why Maro had found some place off the beaten path and away from prying eyes. Under his breath he prayed to whatever powers were listening to help Sumi recover.  If they could only make it back to their village, then everything would be alright. Once again, we are looking at the second year of Taika, 646.  As we heard in the past couple of episodes, the first year of Taika saw a plethora of edicts that would bring radical change to the way that the sovereign interacted with the land and the people.  These provided the start of  much more direct rule,   and yet also set the stage for a new bureaucratic state, with various new officials up and down the hierarchy. This episode we are continuing to look at what happened in the first several months of 646, largely because there was so much going on that it's worth focusing in on this short time period.   For one thing, we really should talk a little bit more about how this entire Taika era is reflecting the culmination of what appears to have been a major change to Yamato's cultural identity over the preceding century or so—a change in perspective that may not have even been entirely apparent to them, but which allowed Naka no Oe and the sovereign, Karu, aka Koutoku Tennou, to get away with these pronouncements that restructured the basic foundations of the Yamato state.  These changes include the death knell of the kofun period, with new restrictions on how mounded tombs were to be created, including how large they were allowed to be.  We'll also look at a litany of items being called out in the third month of the year—many of which directly affected people at the lowest ends of the economic spectrum and which give us a view of some of the practices that had presumably been going on prior to the edict. As we've already discussed, the early part of the year 646 saw quite a few quote-unquote “normal” things happening.  The sovereign moved into a new detached palace, perhaps while the Toyosaki Palace was being built.  This was the Koshiro Palace of Sayabe, in Naniwa.  Emissaries were sent out to restore—or possibly build—the arsenals; you may recall that the governors were supposed to gather up all of the weapons and armor in a single place so that it could be available, just in case.  Envoys from the Emishi came to do homage, and there was another round of envoys from Goguryeo, Baekje, and Silla.  Apparently, this time, there were no complaints about the tribute.  That was all in the first two months.  By the third, the governors had been called to account for their misdeeds, but also pardoned – we talked about this two episodes ago, when we explored the new system of governors, but this is when their pardons happen – and the sovereign moved out of the Koshiro Palace, presumably to take up residence in the shiny new Toyosaki palace that was just getting blessed and which was the nominal reason for the general amnesty across the land. And with all of that over… well, it was time to get back to figuring out what part of the traditional order they would overthrow next.  And apparently, Karu, our sovereign, had an idea.  He sent a question to the Crown Prince, Naka no Oe, to see what he thought about it, and we are given the Prince's response in a letter back to the crown on the 20th day of the 3rd month of 646.    The question Karu had askedwas roughly: what should be done about a group of families called the Iribe, including the Koshiro no Iribe of the Omi, Muraji, the Tomo no Miyatsuko, and the Kuni no Miyatsuko; and the Mina no Iribe of the Royal Princes.  Karu had also evidently asked what should be done about the Miyake. Now the question reading as “what should be done about these people” sounds a bit ominous, so before we get to Naka no Oe's suggestions, let's explore just who were the “Iribe” mentioned here.  As far as I can find, there doesn't appear to be another use of that word in the Chronicles, but the other terms around it provide clues and we have a general consensus about what this is all about.  “Koshiro”—the Child's Generation—and the “Mina”—the exalted name—suggest that the Iribe were those families set up in the name of a given prince or person.  As we've talked about on the podcast in the past, from the start of the various “Be” families, there was a longstanding tradition of creating specific families to support given individuals: for former queens, princes, and more. These families often took the name of the palace where these individuals  resided.  The output of these families and worker groups would then go to support that individual and their relatives. The language used in Naka no Oe's letter, here, suggests that various other elites had set up similar groups for themselves or their own relatives This is supported by the fact that the Miyake are also mentioned.  The Miyake were the royal granaries, and while they had a political significance in extending the presence of the Yamato throne, they were also supplying income, in the form of rice, to the throne and various members of the royal family. So, Karu's question basically boiled down to: what do we do about all of these groups that exist purely to support elite families?  Naka no Oe's response reflects the new order that he was pushing for in this period.  He notes that there is only one sovereign, and only the sovereign was owed the labor of the populace—suggesting that the labor of the Iribe and those otherwise conscripted into labor should be done according to the new labor laws they had just enacted.  This also suggested that even the Miyake should be abolished. This was another Big Change in the Taika era, and once again, this would have large ramifications, as it suggested, once again, that the traditions of people providing labor to these elite families would go away—although not entirely.  As we will see, elites would still get an income, but it would no longer be based on your hereditary rank and position and provided by groups bound to your service alone, but instead based on your appointed rank and position in the new government.  Those serving in government would continue to receive a stipend based on the labor of agricultural workers on land allotted to such purpose by the state, and in fact we've already seen where stipends were increased for some officers.  This goes along with the idea, at least, of a more merit-based society.  Those who worked hard and proved themselves would find their way to the highest positions and thus the greatest income for themselves and their families.  In reality, these promotions were highly political affairs, and most likely to go to those who came from the families already in power.  How that was envisioned, though, changed in this period, and it really emphasizes the shift that must have occurred within the cultural imaginary of the time. I've mentioned before the concept of the cultural imaginary, and it is something that I think we really need to talk about during this period—during the Great Change.  It is clear that, even if the term “Taika” was applied after the fact, people recognized that there was a sea change going on.  That change is externally represented by the edicts and the change going on in the way the government was operating.  However, this couldn't have happened without at least the tacit approval of the rest of the elites.  If Naka no Oe had just been a lone voice preaching the benefits of a more centralized state, with the sovereign at the top of a bureaucratic system that had never before been seen in the archipelago, then he could easily have been dismissed.  The other members of the court could have effectively revolted, refusing to comply and possibly even forcing a change in government.  And of course, that may have been part of what was behind the attempted revolt around Prince Furubito no Ohoye, which we talked about last episode. However, enough people continued to side with Naka no Oe and Nakatomi no Kamatari and their ideas that any opposition was unable to overcome their momentum.  So why? I would suggest that this was the result and culmination of a new way of envisioning—of imagining, if you will—the Yamato state.  It is an image that would have been familiar to the Chroniclers, and we see it throughout their narrative: the image of an imperial state, with the sovereign—known to the Chroniclers as the Sumera no Mikoto, or Tennou—at the very top.  The Sumera no Mikoto, as the sovereign would eventually be known, held authority not only in the secular realm, but also in the spiritual—in the Buddhist and in matters of the kami.  It envisioned the sovereign as the natural ruler of all of the archipelago, and even beyond. This was an image that is very much in line with the thinking of continental scholars.  It conforms, to a point, with Confucian and Buddhist ideas of what a Good Ruler should be, and, by extension, what the role of the State was and how the people should operate within that realm. Prior to the 6th century, there had been another image of the sovereign—the image of the Oho-kimi.  There are similarities—after all, power is power and humans are going to human.  But there were clearly other prevailing ideas in play back then.  We've talked about the idea of co-rulers, who ruled in tandem.  And we've seen examples of female and male rulers at various levels of society.  Spiritual authority came from the ability to intercede with the kami, and there were no native Buddhist traditions prior to 538—despite attempts by the Chroniclers to paint prior generations with the brush of Buddhist and Confucian morality.  One's place in society wasn't dictated by their own personal accomplishments as much as it was the accomplishments of their extended family, though even some of that may have come about as late as the 5th or 6th centuries.  Perhaps more importantly, prior to the 6th century, the sovereign's direct control only extended so far.  They were the sovereign of Yamato, and though they may have had influence over others in the archipelago, they did not necessarily have direct control over their lands and people.  By all accounts, the people owed their service not to the sovereign in Yamato, but to their local elites, who in turn may have had duties to those above them. But along with books and immigrants from the continent, the people of the archipelago got new ideas of what the government should look like.  These may have been foreign ideas, but over time we had new generations growing up with new and different examples of how things should work.  These new ideas worked their way into their thinking about how elited should behave and act, and colored their image for what a proper State should look like.  Sure, they understood how their own traditions worked, and that is still the mode under which they operated, but they were ready to change. Some of this change started back in the era of Prince Umayado and the sovereign, Kashikiya Hime.  Umayado's purported 17 article constitution, as we noted, didn't exactly lay out specific laws and punishments.  It wasn't a true legal code, though it was accompanied by a few legal changes, including the first attempt at a rank system for individuals.  More importantly, though, it articulated a set of values on which the government should be founded.  Whether or not these values were actually articulated to Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi, or even whether they were written down before the Chronicles were put together is debatable, but that whole episode certainly suggests that these kinds of ideas, which were rife with continental thought, were making their way into society. And thus, Naka no Oe was able to suggest his and Karu's reforms based on arguments that no doubt resonated with the people of the time, as many of those in government would have been reading similar texts.  So even while it was seemingly against their immediate interests to give up control of labor or production, they had already been provided an exemplar of how this would work.  They had a new imagination of what their culture should be and look like. And that's why I bring up the idea of a new cultural imaginary taking hold.  A cultural imaginary is the collection of various shared values and concepts that a group envisions for themselves. If we think of modern countries, one can look at American culture, where there are shared values of freedom, individuality, etc.  These are backed by common, shared ideas and stories—stories of the Founding Fathers, separating themselves from Great Britain, but also ideas of the Old West and concepts of the rugged cowboy on his horse.  These stories and images help us to determine our shared values and understanding.  It also tends to define the “us” versus “them”.  Why are *we* the way we are and why are *they* different? To be clear, these stories are not always true, and can change over time.  Early visions of America included some people, but not everyone.  Stories turned George Washington into an almost mythical figure, with an emphasis on his heroic qualities and his honesty.  Our modern version of the Old West is often driven by what we saw in movies, which in turn were influenced by dime novels of the late 19th and early 20th centuries.  The historical Old West tended to be quite different—and much more complex and diverse—than our modern visions of it. We can see similar forces at work in the Nihon Shoki and the Kojiki.  These were written with the cultural values of the 8th century, and deliberately or not, their values are reflected back into the past, which is then what later generations would hold onto, defining their own image of who they were and how things should be. When the cultural imaginary of what your society or culture *should* be conflicts with what people actually see happening, that often creates tension.  That tension can be resolved in a variety of ways, but it often requires something to change.  In this case, the cultural imaginaries of the elite had been flooded with examples of Confucian and Buddhist morals.  The stories and values had been passed along with knowledge of astronomy, mathematics, and more, in the media they were consuming from the continent.  There were also those who had come from the continent—from Baekje, Silla, and beyond—who no doubt also had absorbed some of these stories and values and were passing them on, as well. And so it wouldn't have taken that much for Naka no Oe to point out how the system that they were laboring under differed from what a so-called “good” government should look like.  So in a way, there was already buy-in for a change, at least at the top.  And thus it appears as though Naka no Oe and Karu were able to get many of the elites to give up a measure of their own autonomy under the old system for the benefits of the new system that was being created.  Mind you, it likely didn't hurt that the throne was also ensuring that they gave out lavish gifts of silk, gold ingots, and hefty stipends to many of the more influential members of society as well. There are still questions as to how much actually changed, initially.  Sure, we see the edicts and an intent to change, and the local elites of Yamato seem to have been going along with it, but we don't quite see how quickly these edicts were accepted in places like Izumo or Kibi, and I wouldn't be surprised to learn that, at least initially, many people just paid the edicts lip service, waiting to see whether or not they would actually be enforced.  Still, these are definite changes away from the previous cultural norms. Which leads into the next big edict, which focused on regulating tombs. While the ancient burial mounds which could be called “kofun” continued to be built into the 8th century in one form or another, by most timelines, the Kofun period ended around 538 with the introduction of Buddhism and the start of what is known as the Asuka period.  As we've noted, even the kingly tombs of the royal family from the end of the 6th century stopped relying on the round-keyhole shaped tomb shape.  By the early 7th century the building of temples had become the new memorial for the ultra-wealthy of Yamato—a temple being a memorial that could be built before you passed and carry on your memory to later generations as a place of worship.  This was no doubt helped by the idea that you would also accrue a fair bit of karma, the spiritual capital of the Buddhist worldview. However, a mounded burial was still de rigeur for the elites and certain families, including those who had come over from the continent.  The last keyhole style tombs known to have been built appear to be out in modern Chiba prefecture, in the Kanto region, in the first half of the 7th century.  From then on, we largely see round, square, or octagonal tombs.  Some of the latest tombs that we know of, in the late 7th and early 8th centuries, show clear signs of continental influence.  Kitora kofun and Takamatsuzuka Kofun, both in the Asuka area, are decorated in ways similar to tombs in Goguryeo, including paintings of the four directional animals mentioned in the Liji, the Confucian Book of Rites: Suzaku, the red bird of the south; Byakko, the white tiger of the west; Genbu, the black tortoise of the north; and Seiryuu, the blue dragon of the east.  Takamatsuzuka also contains murals of courtiers dressed in clothing that would be quite at home on the continent and which looks quite different from the clothing seen on haniwa figures from only a century or so earlier. Tombs were also more likely to be clustered together, and often only contained a single burial, rather than evidence of a double burial.  This was likely influenced by the edict of 646.  That edict also gives us ideas on what was considered to be reasonable for that era, and provides some of our best descriptions in the written record to help us better understand tomb construction. I would also note that the court had moved to Naniwa, and near to Naniwa were some of the largest of the kofun, including Daisen-ryo, the largest kofun in Japan and one of the largest mausoleums in the entire world.  So perhaps that was also influencing their thoughts. The edict starts out noting that large, mounded tombs are wasteful.  This shouldn't be a surprise:  large tombs were always about conspicuous consumption as a sign of the wealth and power of the occupant and their family.  As noted earlier, however, a lot of that seems to have shifted to the building of temples, and as such, tombs were no longer seen as something to waste resources on.  However, since it was still tradition, it was still happening, hence the edict. And so it goes on to limit the size of the tombs.  At the largest, it says a tomb should be no more than about nine shaku wide and 5 shaku wide on the inside—one shaku being approximately 1 foot—and no more then 9 hiro to a side and 5 hiro in height.  A “Hiro” was an ancient measure that was generally the length of two outspread arms.  This was about 5 shaku, or 5 feet.    That means that we are still talking about a mound 45 feet on a side, which is nothing to sneeze at.  But this size was reserved for princes and up.  The Daijin—the great ministers of State—could have similar inner dimensions for their sarcophagus, but the outside was limited to only seven hiro to a side and three hiro in height.  Lesser ministers only got 5 hiro to a side and 2.5 hiro in height, while others were allocated no mound at all, and a smaller inner chamber. In addition, the number of laborers and how long they could work on a tomb was also capped.  The largest tombs were allotted 1,000 laborers for 7 days.  The Daijin received 500 laborers over 5 days.  Other ministers received 250 laborers for 3 days, while below that you received 100 laborers for 1 day or 50 laborers for no more than 1 day.  Here we see the state once again asserting itself into the relationship between the various individuals and the laborers—previously, an elite family would have just used as many laborers as they had private access to, but now things were being regulated and it was all based on your rank and position within the civil service of the new government. In addition, how the deceased was delivered to the monument also was regulated.  A carriage was permitted for the highest ranked individuals—the members of the royal family.  Ministers could be placed on a bier and carried by pall-bearers.  No mention is made of people of the lower class, with the assumption that they likely didn't get such a ceremony. White cloth hangings were allowed in many cases—white is practical, in that it isn't dyed and so it wouldn't be as expensive, but it was also considered the color of death in Buddhist and continental tradition, so not surprising.  They also allowed small stones to be used for princes down to the rank of “sho-chi”—that was the lowest official rank.  These stones could refer to several things, and we aren't quite sure.  According to Aston, the compilers of the “shukai” edition of the Nihon Shoki attributed this to memorial stones set up with inscriptions about the deceased, but as he points out, we haven't found anything that really correlates to that.  Aston instead suggests that what is meant are the stones used to build the roof of the main chamber.  If you look at tombs like Ishibutai kofun, you can see the large stones used there, but this may be referring to something similar, possibly using smaller stones that took less effort to haul into place.  There were also stones used on the outside to decorate the kofun back in the day, and I suppose that they could have meant that as well. More than just regulations, there were prohibitions placed on burials.  For one thing, the concept of a temporary interment was discontinued for everyone.  In the past, a body would be buried or even placed in a hut for some time and then the burial would take place at a later date.  There are several reasons this may have been done in the past, from the purely ritual to the more practical.  However, that was no longer considered to be appropriate.  Likewise, commoners were required to be buried within a day of their death.  This goes along with talk about reducing “pollution”, which may have referred to spiritual as much as physical pollution, and so plots of ground were set aside specifically for burials, and people were not allowed to be buried outside of those official locations.  That could certainly help explain why we see more clusters of burials in this later period.  Using the sides of hills and ridges may have also meant that the tombs didn't take up important agricultural lands. There were also prohibitions on sacrifices to the dead.  For one thing, nobody was permitted to sacrifice themselves through strangulation—which apparently had been a thing even though we are told that human sacrifice was prohibited back in the time of Mimaki Iribiko, and the reason that haniwa were invented.  You also weren't allowed to sacrifice someone's horse or bury valuables along with the dead.  These are all things that we see in the early mounded tomb culture, including burials in the Kara, or Gaya, region of the Korean peninsula, and we certainly find plenty of grave goods in the archipelago.  It makes me wonder if this is one of the reasons that painted tombs, like Kitora and Takamatsuzuka, were used, perhaps in place of more lavish grave goods going into the burial.  There was also a prohibition on an apparent custom where people would cut their hair and stab themselves in the thigh prior to pronouncing a eulogy.  Similar traditions are found elsewhere, often to emphasize that people were grieving the dead. And since you can't punish the dead, if there were any problems then it would be the dead person's relatives who would be punished, instead. Speaking of punishments, this starts to get into a part of the Taika reforms that really focuses on the various offenses that people were apparently committing and needed to be stopped.  It is unclear to me how often these offenses occurred, and in some cases I wonder if they were things that were actually happening or if they were carryovers from the continental tradition.  Still, I tend to come down on the idea that these were likely things that were actually happening, and didn't fit in with the social norms and values that Naka no Oe and his cohorts were attempting to put in place.  Some of these will likely resonate with us, today, but others are a bit more difficult to fully grasp. One of the things that is perhaps most difficult for us to grasp today is the concept of “harai”, which Aston translates as “purgation” and is most commonly translated, today, as “purification”.  “Harai” is an important concept in Shinto, and has been something that seems to have been there in some form from the earliest times. In Shinto there is a concept of “pollution” or “tsumi” that can occur, and it may or may not be something that a person has control over.  For example, blood and death are forms of pollution—which also means that, by extension, birth also includes pollution in the form of blood.  “Tsumi” can also be something that occurs because of things that a person does, where they break the social mores or norms.  A number of examples are contained in the stories provided during the Age of the Gods.  In particular, you can see in the tales of Izanagi and Izanami, where Izanagi, coming back from the land of the dead, dips himself into the ocean to wash away any impurities—any pollution.  We talked about that back in episode 14.  In episode 15, we talked about some of the not-so-great actions of Susano'o.  Some of these, like the backwards flaying of the colt and flinging it through the roof of his sister's building is somewhat obvious.  But then there were things like moving the stakes delineating the rice fields, or letting livestock in to trample the young growth.  Those were some other examples of tsumi that were part of the many things that got him kicked out of Takamagahara, the High Plain of Heaven. An important thing here is that tsumi is not necessarily about a person's intentions, motives, nor responsibility.  For all types of tsumi, some form of harai, or purification, is called for.  Today, there are various ceremonies that can be performed by Shinto priests to help remove the effects of tsumi, and that seems to have been the case back in the Kofun and Asuka periods as well, but there was a catch: it wasn't without costs.  And apparently those costs could be significant—significant enough that it was almost like a kind of punishment.  Aston suggests that harai could include various payments, perhaps seen as a kind of sacrifice, but that could be more than some people could afford.  If we look back on the story of Susano'o, he had to have his hair and nails cut as part of his penance—his harai.  There is also some thought that this may have just been a literal payment to the community, like a fine.  I would note that “harai” can mean either purification or payment, depending on the kanji used.  So just keep that in mind when we talk about “harai”. Now here are some of the things that, according to the new edicts, people were to stop doing. First, there were people who saw or heard something—presumably something important—and yet they wouldn't say anything.  That wasn't going to fly anymore.  So I guess this is the pro-snitching rule—if you see something, say something. Then there were enslaved people who apparently would leave poor masters to find someone wealthier to serve, hoping to improve their lot.  Again, this was right out.  We are reminded that Yamato was a slave-holding society, and they weren't going to allow that. On the other hand, the new rules also put a stop to husbands who would dismiss their wives and then, when the wives remarried, try to make a claim on the new husband's property.  Similarly, there were some men who demanded a family's daughter for his wife, but before they consummate the marriage, she marries someone else.  In some of those cases, the men would, again, make demands on the property of the new husband's family as well as the wife's family.  The new edict put that strictly out of bounds. Following on a theme of women and marriage: there was a tradition in some places that widows who, when they married after 10 or 20 years, or even unmarried women got married for the first time, they would be forced by the community to pay for some kind of “harai”.  This, along with the other practice mentioned, was forbidden.  No longer would they have to pay for getting married. Now in some cases, it looks like men who wanted to divorce their wives wouldn't just let them out of the arrangement. Rather, they would sell their wives into slavery—another thing that the new edicts said would no longer be tolerated. And then there was the case of a man who believed his wife was having an affair.  In that case he now had to obtain at least three credible witnesses before bringing it up to the authorities.  One presumes this was to protect women from men simply making a baseless claim with no proof.  Not that a determined man couldn't find—or even bribe—three witnesses to come forward and accuse his wife, but it at least upped the ante a little bit.  Whether this was to provide protection to women or whether it was just to reduce the amount of work on government officials who would have to investigate and come to a decision isn't exactly clear. I would note that while many of these new rules were coming down on the side of protecting women, to some degree, there is still a very heavy patriarchal bias demonstrated throughout. In addition to all the information on marital affairs,  there were a few other, unrelated issues, but all of them were connected to the need to do harai.  And now we come back to our story about poor Maro and Sumi from the beginning of the episode: let's say a man, finishing his forced labor, is returning back when he falls ill on the road and dies in some village.  According to established traditions, the people there could then require his companions or even family members to perform harai—presumably meaning that they would have to pay the village something or at least pay for the ritual cleansing, to compensate for the tsumi that the death caused.  Similarly, if someone were to drown, his companions would be held responsible.  Even if someone were to stop and cook rice by the roadside while traveling, they could be made to perform harai.  And the harai for all of this was so onerous that we are told that even a younger brother might completely ignore the body of his elder brother, just to avoid being associated with him and thus forced to perform harai. In all of these cases, the edict said that this would no longer be acceptable.  You couldn't just put the squeeze on someone to perform harai just because their companion happened to pass away. Being on the road and traveling—especially for official government service—was clearly something that was on their mind.  Moving on from the list of things that were to be discontinued without exception, there were a few other cases that were dealt with in the same edict. First, there was the case where peasants, heading to the capital, would leave their horses with someone in Owari or Mikawa, for example.  They would leave cloth and bundles of hemp as payment for the person to look after their horses, and even procure a spade as a gift when they returned.  However, when they got back, they would find that their horse had died, or else the horse had been sold, but the owner was told it had died.  The last trick, if it was a mare, was to get the mare pregnant and then claim that the pregnancy had polluted their house, therefore the owner would have to do harai, meaning that the horse usually ended up staying with the person who was supposed to be holding onto it. The solution was to use the new bureaucracy.  The owner and the person who agreed to keep the horse would make their statement to the village elder and the owner would hand over the renumeration to the elder as the third party.  This payment would be held by the elder until the owner returned, at which point it was handed over to the person who had kept the horse.  This way the person keeping the horse knew that he would be paid for his troubles, but only if the horse was still around when the owner returned. So they effectively invented the concept of escrow.  I suspect that such a system could be applied to many other such endeavors as well, where there was otherwise no guarantee of payment at the end of a task nor guarantee that the task would completed as agreed if they got the money up front. Besides that, the edict also had a short note about dues payable to Market Commissioners for main roads and to ferrymen—likely various fees.  Instead, these kinds of positions would be granted rice-land which could be cultivated and they could receive a stipend from that. Finally, during the key agricultural months, everybody was to be working on cultivating rice-land.  The edict specifically calls out that they should not eat dainty food nor drink sake, I suspect because dainty food wouldn't give you enough energy and drinking sake would impair your ability in the field.  Each quarter, the Kuni no Miyatsuko were to send messengers to remind the people of this edict—a kind of human public service announcement. So all of that was part of an edict on the 22nd day of the 3rd month of 646.  I am not sure that there is a clear theme to all of it, other than calling out old practices and describing how things would be done from here on out.  There is clearly a concern with harai and how it would affect people's willingness to do the right thing. The next set of pronouncements would come almost five months later, and a lot of that had to do with names, as well as further work on the creation of the government bureaucracy, but that is going to take a lot more time, and so I think that for now we'll end this here:  The link between the state and laborers has been changed, the tomb-building has been strictly regulated, and a series of rather specific pronouncements and prohibitions has been issued. 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.

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

Seja bem-vindo ao 'Estação Para-raio', o mais novo programa da Cúpula, trazendo as principais notícias do mundo otaku! Hoje na Estação: - Criador de Jujutsu Kaisen não acha Itadori interessante - ‘Kojiki', um dos mais antigos livros do Japão, entra em campanha de financiamento coletivo. - Por que estúdio Trigger deixou de lado obras estilo “Kill la Kill” - Estúdio de Arcane quer animar Vagabond ✅ Lembrem-se de seguir a gente aqui no Spotify e também avaliar o CúpulaCast com aquelas 5 estrelinhas ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐!

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

This is Part 2 of our special Gishiwajinden Tour from Gaya to Tsushima, Iki, Matsuro, Ito, and Na--aka Gimhae and Busan to Tsushima, Iki, Karatsu, Itoshima, and Fukuoka.  This time we talk about the island of Tsushima, the border island between Japan and Korea.  While itself a difficult place to make a living, it has long been the border--a place for foreign ambassadors, invadors, and pirates alike. For photos and more, check out our blogpost:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/tsushima Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Gishiwajinden Tour Stop 2: Tsushima. As I mentioned last episode, we are taking a break right now from the workings of the Chronicles while I prep a bit more research on the Taika reform.  As we do so, I'm taking you through a recent trip we took trying to follow the ancient sea routes from Gaya, on the Korean peninsula, across the islands to Na, in modern Fukuoka.  This may have been first described in the Wei Chronicles, the Weizhi, but it was the pathway that many visitors to the archipelago took up through the famous Mongol invasion, and even later missions from the Joseon kingdom on the Korean peninsula. Last episode, we talked about our start at Gimhae and Pusan.  Gimhae is the old Geumgwan Gaya, as far as we can tell, and had close connections with the archipelago as evidenced by the common items of material culture found on both sides of the strait.  From the coast of the Korean peninsula, ships would then sail for the island of Tsushima, the nearest of the islands between the mainland and the Japanese archipelago.  Today, ships still sail from Korea to Japan, but most leave out of the port of Pusan.  This includes regular cruise ships as well as specialty cruises and ferries.  For those who want, there are some popular trips between Pusan and Fukuoka or Pusan all the way to Osaka, through the Seto Inland Sea.  For us, however, we were looking at the shortest ferries, those to Tsushima.  Tsushima is a large island situated in the strait between Korea and Japan.  Technically it is actually three islands, as channels were dug in the 20th century to allow ships stationed around the island to quickly pass through rather than going all the way around. Tsushima is the closest Japanese island to Korea, actually closer to Korea than to the rest of Japan, which makes it a fun day trip from Pusan, so they get a lot of Korean tourists.  There are two ports that the ferries run to, generally speaking.  In the north is Hitakatsu, which is mainly a port for people coming from Korea.  Further south is Izuhara, which is the old castle town, where the So family once administered the island and relations with the continent, and where you can get a ferry to Iki from. Unfortunately for us, as I mentioned last episode, it turned out that the kami of the waves thwarted us in our plans to sail from Busan to Tsushima.  And so we ended up flying into Tsushima Airport, instead, which actually required us to take an international flight over to Fukuoka and then a short domestic flight back to Tsushima.  On the one hand, this was a lot of time out of our way, but on the other they were nice short flights with a break in the Fukuoka airport, which has great restaurants in the domestic terminal.  Furthermore, since we came into the centrally-located Tsushima airport, this route also gave us relatively easy access to local rental car agencies, which was helpful because although there is a bus service that runs up and down the islands, if you really want to explore Tsushima it is best to have a car.  Note that also means having an International Driver's Permit, at least in most cases, unless you have a valid Japanese drivers' license. As for why you need a car:  There is a bus route from north to south, but for many of the places you will likely want to go will take a bit more to get to.  If you speak Japanese and have a phone there are several taxi companies you can call, and you can try a taxi app, though make sure it works on the island.  In the end, having a car is extremely convenient. Tsushima is also quite mountainous, without a lot of flat land, and there are numerous bays and inlets in which ships can hide and shelter from bad weather—or worse.  Tsushima is renowned for its natural beauty.  Flora and fauna are shared with continent and the archipelago.  There are local subspecies of otter and deer found on the islands, but also the Yamaneko, or Mountain Cat, a subspecies of the Eurasian leopard cat that   is only found in Japan on Tsushima and on Iriomote, in the southern Okinawan island chain.  They also have their own breed of horse, as well, related to the ancient horses bred there since at least the 8th century. Tsushima is clearly an important part of Japan, and the early stories of the creation of the archipelago often include Tsushima as one of the original eight islands mentioned in the creation story.  That suggests it has been considered an ancient part of the archipelago since at least the 8th century, and likely much earlier. Humans likely first came to Tsushima on their crossing from what is now the Korean peninsula over to the archipelago at the end of the Pleistocene era, when sea levels were much lower.  However, we don't have clear evidence of humans until later, and this is likely because the terrain made it difficult to cultivate the land, and most of the activity was  focused on making a livelihood out of the ocean. Currently we have clear evidence of humans on the island from at least the Jomon period, including remnants such as shellmounds, though we don't have any clear sign of habitation.  It is possible that fishermen and others came to the islands during certain seasons, setting up fish camps and the like, and then departed, but it could be that there were more permanent settlements and we just haven't found them yet.  Most of the Jomon sites appear to be on the northern part of Tsushima, what is now the “upper island”, though, again, lack of evidence should not be taken as evidence of lack, and there could be more we just haven't found yet.  After all, sites like Izuhara, which was quite populated in later periods, may have disturbed any underlying layers that we could otherwise hope to find there, and perhaps we will one day stumble on something more that will change our understanding.  Things change a bit in the Yayoi period, and we see clear evidence of settlements, pit buildings, graves, and grave goods at various sites up through the Kofun period.   Unsurprisingly, the assembly of goods found include both archipelagic and continental material, which fits with its position in between the various cultures. Understandably, most of these archeological sites were investigated and then either covered back up for preservation or replaced by construction – so in many cases there isn't anything to see now, besides the artifacts in the museum.  But some of the earliest clear evidence that you can still go see today are the several kofun, ancient tumuli, scattered around the island at different points.  Most of the kofun on the island appear to be similar, and overall fairly small.  These are not the most impressive kofun—not the giant mounds found in places like Nara, Osaka, Kibi, or even up in Izumo.  However, to students of the era they are still very cool to see as monuments of that ancient time.  One example of this that we visited was the Niso-kofungun, or the Niso Kofun group.  The Niso Kofungun is not like what you might expect in the Nara basin or the Osaka area.  First, you drive out to the end of the road in a small fishing community, and from there go on a small hike to see the kofun themselves.  Today the mounds are mostly hidden from view by trees, though there are signs put up to mark each one.  Some of them have a more well defined shape than others, too, with at least one demonstrating what appears to be a long, thin keyhole shape, taking advantage of the local terrain.  Most of these were pit style burials, where slabs of local sedimentary rock were used to form rectangular coffins in the ground, in which the individuals were presumably buried.  On one of the keyhole shaped mounds there was also what appears to be a secondary burial at the neck of the keyhole, where the round and trapezoidal sections meet.  However, we don't know who or even what was buried there in some instances, as most of the bones are no longer extant. Besides the distinctively keyhole shaped tomb, two more kofun in the Niso group caught my attention.  One, which is thought to have been a round tomb, had what appeared to be a small stone chamber, perhaps the last of the kofun in this group to be built, as that is generally a feature of later period kofun.  There was also one that was higher up on the hill, which may also have been a keyhole shaped tomb.  That one struck me, as it would likely have been particularly visible from sea before the current overgrown forest  appeared.  There are also plenty of other kofun to go searching for, though some might be a little more impressive than others.  In the next episode, when we talk about the island of Iki, we'll explore that ancient kingdom's much larger collection of kofun. After the mention of Tsushima in the Weizhi in the third century, there is a later story, from about the 6th century, involving Tsushima in the transmission of Buddhism.  This story isn't in the Nihon Shoki and was actually written down much later, so take that as you will.  According to this account, the Baekje envoys who transmitted the first Buddha image to Japan stopped for a while on Tsushima before proceeding on to the Yamato court.  While they were there, the monks who were looking after the image built a small building in which to conduct their daily rituals, effectively building the first Buddhist place of worship in the archipelago.  A temple was later said to have been built on that spot, and in the mid-15th century it was named Bairinji. While the narrative is highly suspect, there is some evidence that the area around Bairinji was indeed an important point on the island.  Prior to the digging of the two channels to connect the east and west coasts, the area near Bairinji, known as Kofunakoshi, or the small boat portage, was the narrowest part of Tsushima, right near the middle, where Aso Bay and Mitsuura Bay almost meet.  We know that at least in the 9th century this is where envoys would disembark  from one ship which had brought them from the archipelago, and embark onto another which would take them to the continent, and vice versa. Likewise, their goods would be carried across the narrow strip of land. This was like a natural barrier and an ideal location for an official checkpoint, and in later years Bairinji temple served as this administrative point, providing the necessary paperwork for crews coming to and from Japan, including the various Joseon dynasty missions in the Edo period. Why this system of portage and changing ships, instead of just sailing around?  Such a system was practical for several reasons.  For one, it was relatively easy to find Tsushima from the mainland.  Experienced ships could sail there, transfer cargo to ships experienced with the archipelago and the Seto Inland Sea, and then return swiftly to Korea.  Furthermore, this system gave Yamato and Japan forewarning, particularly of incoming diplomatic missions.  No chance mistaking ships for an invasion or pirates of some kind, as word could be sent ahead and everything could be arranged in preparation for the incoming mission.  These are details that are often frustratingly left out of many of the early accounts, but there must have been some logistics to take care of things like this. Whether or not Bairinji's history actually goes back to 538, it does have claim to some rather ancient artifacts, including a 9th century Buddha image from the Unified, or Later, Silla period as well as 579 chapters of the Dai Hannya Haramitta Kyo, or the Greater Perfection of Wisdom Sutra, from a 14th century copy.  These were actually stolen from the temple in 2014, but later recovered.  Other statues were stolen two years previously from other temples on Tsushima, which speaks to some of the tensions that still exist between Korea and Japan.  Claims were made that the statues had originally been stolen by Japanese pirates, or wakou, from Korea and brought to Japan, so the modern-day thieves were simply righting an old wrong.  However, Korean courts eventually found that the items should be returned to Japan, though there were those who disagreed with the ruling.  This is an example of the ongoing tensions that can sometimes make study of inter-strait history a bit complex. More concrete than the possible location of a theoretical early worship structure are the earthworks of Kaneda fortress.  This is a mid-7th century fort, created by Yamato to defend itself from a presumed continental invasion.  We even have mention of it in the Nihon Shoki.  It appears to have been repaired in the late 7th century, and then continued to be used until some time in the 8th century, when it was abandoned, seeing as how the invasion had never materialized, and no doubt maintaining the defenses on top of a mountain all the way out on Tsushima would have been a costly endeavor. Over time the name “Kaneda” was forgotten, though the stone and earthworks on the mountain gave the site the name “Shiroyama”, or Castle Mountain, at least by the 15th century.  In the Edo period, scholars set out trying to find the Kaneda fortress mentioned in the Nihon Shoki, and at one point identified this with an area known as Kanedahara, or Kaneda Fields, in the modern Sasu district, on the southwest coast of Tsushima.  However, a scholar named Suyama Don'ou identified the current mountaintop site, which has generally been accepted as accurate.  The earthworks do appear to show the kind of Baekje-style fortifications that Yamato built at this time, which took advantage of the natural features of the terrain.  These fortresses, or castles, were more like fortified positions—long walls that could give troops a secure place to entrench themselves.  They would not have had the impressive donjon, or tenshukaku, that is the most notable feature of of later Japanese and even European castles. Most of the Baekje style castles in Japan are primarily earthworks—for example the Demon's castle in modern Okayama.  Kaneda is unique, though, with about 2.8 kilometers of stone walls, most of which are reportedly in quite good condition.  There were three main gates and remains of various buildings have been determined from post-holes uncovered on the site.  There is a name for the top of the mountain, Houtateguma, suggesting that there may have once been some kind of beacon tower placed there with a light that could presumably be used to signal to others, but no remains have been found. The defensive nature of the position is also attested to in modern times.  During the early 20th century, the Japanese military placed batteries on the fortress, and an auxiliary fort nearby.  These constructions damaged some of the ancient walls, but this still demonstrates Tsushima's place at the edge of Japan and the continent, even into modern times. For all that it is impressive, I have to say that we regrettably did not make it to the fortress, as it is a hike to see everything, and our time was limited.  If you do go, be prepared for some trekking, as this really is a fortress on a mountain, and you need to park and take the Kaneda fortress trail up.   Moving on from the 8th century, we have evidence of Tsushima in written records throughout the next several centuries, but there isn't a lot clearly remaining on the island from that period—at least not extant buildings.  In the records we can see that there were clearly things going on, and quite often it wasn't great for the island.  For instance, there was the Toi Invasion in the 11th century, when pirates—possibly Tungusic speaking Jurchen from the area of Manchuria—invaded without warning, killing and taking people away as slaves.  It was horrific, but relatively short-lived, as it seems that the invaders weren't intent on staying. Perhaps a more lasting impression was made by the invasions of the Mongols in the 13th century.  This is an event that has been hugely impactful on Japan and Japanese history.  The first invasion in 1274, the Mongols used their vassal state of Goryeo to build a fleet of ships and attempted to cross the strait to invade Japan.  The typical narrative talks about how they came ashore at Hakata Bay, in modern Fukuoka, and the Kamakura government called up soldiers from across the country to their defense.  Not only that, but monks and priests prayed for divine intervention to protect Japan.  According to the most common narrative, a kamikaze, or divine wind, arose in the form of a typhoon that blew into Hakata Bay and sank much of the Mongol fleet. That event would have ripple effects throughout Japanese society.  On the one hand, the Mongols brought new weapons in the form of explosives, and we see changes in the arms of the samurai as their swords got noticeably beefier, presumably to do better against similarly armored foes.  The government also fortified Hakata Bay, which saw another attack in 1281, which similarly failed. Though neither attempted invasion succeeded, both were extremely costly.  Samurai who fought for their country expected to get rewarded afterwards, and not just with high praise.  Typically when samurai fought they would be richly rewarded by their lord with gifts taken from the losing side, to include land and property.  In the case of the Mongols, however, there was no land or property to give out.  This left the Kamakura government in a bit of a pickle, and the discontent fomented by lack of payment is often cited as one of the key contributors to bringing down the Kamakura government and leading to the start of the Muromachi period in the 14th century. The invasions didn't just appear at Hakata though.  In 1274,  after the Mongol fleet first left Goryeo on the Korean Peninsula, they landed first at Tsushima and then Iki, following the traditional trade routes and killing and pillaging as they went.  In Tsushima, the Mongol armies arrived in the south, landing at Komoda beach near Sasuura.  Lookouts saw them coming and the So clan hastily gathered up a defense, but it was no use.  The Mongol army established a beachhead and proceeded to spend the next week securing the island. From there they moved on to Iki, the next island in the chain, and on our journey.  Countless men and women were killed or taken prisoner, and when the Mongols retreated after the storm, they brought numerous prisoners back with them.  Although the Mongols had been defeated, they were not finished with their plans to annex Japan into their growing empire.  They launched another invasion in 1281, this time with reinforcements drawn from the area of the Yangtze river, where they had defeated the ethnic Han Song dynasty two years prior.  Again, they landed at Tsushima, but met fierce resistance—the government had been preparing for this fight ever since the last one.  Unfortunately, Tsushima again fell under Mongol control, but not without putting up a fight.  When the Mongols were again defeated, they left the island once again, this time never to return. If you want to read up more on the events of the Mongol Invasion, I would recommend Dr. Thomas Conlan's book, “No Need for Divine Intervention”.  It goes into much more detail than I can here. These traumatic events have been seared into the memories of Tsushima and the nearby island of Iki. Even though both islands have long since rebuilt, memories of the invasion are embedded in the landscape of both islands, and it is easy to find associated historical sites or even take a dedicated tour.   In 2020, the events of the invasion of Tsushima were fictionalized into a game that you may have heard of called Ghost of Tsushima.  I won't get into a review of the game—I haven't played it myself—but many of the locations in the game were drawn on actual locations in Tsushima.  Most, like Kaneda Castle, are fictionalized to a large extent, but it did bring awareness to the island, and attracted a large fan base.  Indeed, when we picked up our rental car, the helpful staff offered us a map with Ghost of Tsushima game locations in case we wanted to see them for ourselves. As I noted, many of the places mentioned in the game are highly fictionalized, as are many of the individuals and groups—after all, the goal is to play through and actually defeat the enemies, and just getting slaughtered by Mongols and waiting for them to leave wouldn't exactly make for great gameplay.  Shrines offer “charms” to the user and so finding and visiting all of the shrines in the in-game world becomes a player goal. And so when fans of the game learned that the torii gate of Watatsumi Shrine, one of the real-life iconic shrines in Tsushima, was destroyed by a typhoon in September of 2020, about a month after the game was released, they came to its aid and raised over 27 million yen to help restore the torii gates.  A tremendous outpouring from the community. And while you cannot visit all of the locations in the game, you can visit Watazumi Shrine, with its restored torii gates that extend into the water. Watatsumi Shrine itself has some interesting, if somewhat confusing, history.  It is one of two shrines on Tsushima that claim to be the shrine listed in the 10th-century Engi Shiki as “Watatsumi Shrine”.  This is believed to have been the shrine to the God of the Sea, whose palace Hiko Hoho-demi traveled down to in order to find his brother's fishhook—a story noted in the Nihon Shoki and which we covered in episode 23.  Notwithstanding that most of that story claims it was happening on the eastern side of Kyushu, there is a local belief that Tsushima is actually the place where that story originated. The popular shrine that had its torii repaired is popularly known as Watatsumi Shrine, today.  The other one is known as Kaijin  Shrine, literally translating to the Shrine of the Sea God, and it is also known as Tsushima no kuni no Ichinomiya; That is to say the first, or primary, shrine of Tsushima.  Some of the confusion may come as it appears that Kaijin shrine was, indeed, the more important of the two for some time.  It was known as the main Hachiman shrine in Tsushima, and may have been connected with a local temple as well.  It carries important historical records that help to chart some of the powerful families of Tsushima, and also claims ownership of an ancient Buddhist image from Silla that was later stolen.  In the 19th century it was identified as the Watatsumi Shrine mentioned in the Engi Shiki, and made Toyotama Hime and Hikohohodemi the primary deities worshipped at the shrine, replacing the previous worship of Hachiman. Shrines and temples can be fascinating to study, but can also be somewhat tricky to understand, historically.  Given their religious nature, the founding stories of such institutions can sometimes be rather fantastical, and since they typically aren't written down until much later, it is hard to tell what part of the story is original and what part has been influenced by later stories, like those in the Nihon Shoki or the Kojiki. Another interesting example of a somewhat unclear history is that of the Buddhist temple, Kokubun-ji.  Kokubunji are provincial temples, originally set up inthe decree of 741 that had them erected across the archipelago, one in each province at the time, in an attempt to protect the country from harm,  Knowing the location of a Kokubunji can therefore often tell you something about where the Nara era provincial administration sat, as it would likely have been nearby.  In many cases, these were probably connected to the local elite, as well. This is not quite as simple with Tsushima Kokubun-ji.  While it was originally designated in the decree of 741,  a later decree in 745 stated that the expenses for these temples would come directly out of tax revenues in the provinces, and at that time Tsushima was excluded.  Moreover, the Kokubunji on nearby Iki island was funded by taxes from Hizen province.  So it isn't until 855 that we have clear evidence of an early provincial temple for Tsushima, in this case known as a Tobunji, or Island Temple, rather than a Kokubunji. The location of that early temple is unknown, and it burned down only two years later when Tsushima was attacked by forces from Kyushu.   It is unclear what happened to it in the following centures, but by the 14th or 15th century it was apparently situated in Izuhara town, near the site of what would become Kaneishi Castle.  It was later rebuilt in its current location, on the other side of Izuhara town.  It burned down in the Edo period—all except the gate, which was built in 1807.  This gate is at least locally famous for its age and history.  It was also the site of the guesthouses for the 1811 diplomatic mission from Joseon—the dynasty that followed Koryeo. Those missions are another rather famous part of the history of Tsushima, which, as we've seen, has long been a gateway between the archipelago and the peninsula.  In the Edo period, there were numerous diplomatic missions from the Joseon dynasty to the Tokugawa shogunate, and these grand affairs are often touted in the history of Tsushima, with many locations specifically calling out the island's deep involvement in cross-strait relations.  Relations which, to really understand, we need to probably start with a look at the famous (or perhaps even infamous) Sou clan. The Sou clan became particularly influential in Tsushima in the 13th century.  The local officials, the Abiru clan, who had long been in charge of the island, were declared to be in rebellion against the Dazaifu, and so Koremune Shigehisa was sent to quell them.  In return, he was made Jito, or land steward, under the Shoni clan, who were the Shugo of Chikuzen and Hizen, including the island of Tsushima.  The Sou clan, descendents of the Koremune, ruled Tsushima ever since, first as vassals of the Shoni , but eventually they ran things outright. Thus, Sou Sukekuni was in charge when the Mongols invaded in 1274.  Despite having only 80 or so mounted warriors under his charge, he attempted to defend the island, dying in battle.  Nonetheless, when the Mongols retreated, the Sou family retained their position.  Later, they supported the Ashikaga in their bid to become shogun, and were eventually named the Shugo of Tsushima, a title they kept until the Meiji period. As we've mentioned, despite its size, Tsushima is not the most hospitable of locations.  It is mountainous, with many bays and inlets, making both cross-land travel and agriculture relatively difficult.  And thus the Sou clan came to rely on trade with the continent for their wealth and support.  Although, “trade” might be a bit negotiable. Remember how the early Japanese regularly raided the coast of the peninsula?  It was frequent enough that a term arose—the Wakou, the Japanese invaders, or Japanese pirates.  In fact, the term “wakou” became so synonymous with piracy that almost any pirate group could be labeled as “wakou”, whether Japanese or not.  Some of them that we know about were downright cosmopolitan, with very diverse crews from a variety of different cultures. Given its position, the rough terrain, and myriad bays that could easily hide ships and other such things, Tsushima made a great base for fishermen-slash-pirates to launch from.  Particularly in harsh times, desperate individuals from Tsushima and other islands might take their chances to go and raid the mainland.  In the early 15th century, the new Joseon dynasty had had enough.  They sent an expeditionary force to Tsushima to put an end to the wakou. The expedition came in 1419.  The year before, the head of the Sou clan, Sou Sadashige, had died.  His son, Sou Sadamori, took his place, but had not yet come of age, leaving actual power in the hands of Souda Saemontarou, leader of the Wakou pirates. Eventually the Joseon forces were defeated by the forces of Tsushima, including the wakou.  The Joseon court considered sending another punitive expedition, but it never materialized.  What did eventually happen, though, was, oddly, closer ties between the peninsula and Tsushima.  Sou Sadamori, who grew up in that tumultuous time, worked to repair relationships with the Joseon court, concluding a treaty that that allowed the Sou clan to basically monopolize trade with the Korean peninsula.  Treaty ports on the peninsula began to attract permanent settlements of Japanese merchants, and these “wakan”, or Japanese districts, came nominally under the jurisdiction of the Sou of Tsushima. The Sou clan maintained their place as the intermediaries with the Joseon state through the 16th century.  Messages sent from the Japanese court to Joseon would be sent to the Sou, who would deliver them to the Joseon court, and in turn handle all replies from the peninsula back to the Japanese mainland.  And this over time led them to develop some, shall we say, special techniques to make sure these exchanges were as fruitful as possible.  You see, the treaties with the Joseon court only allowed fifty ships a year from Tsushima to trade with the peninsula.  But since all of the documents flowed through the Sou, they had plenty of time to study the seals of both courts—those of the Joseon kingdom and those of Japan – and have fake seals created for their own ends.  In part through the use of these fake seals, the Sou clan were able to pretend their ships were coming from other people—real or fake—and thus get around the 50 ship per year limit.  They also used them in other ways to try and maintain their position between the two countries. All of this came to a head when the Taikou, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, began to dream of continental conquest.  Hideyoshi, at this point the undeniable ruler of all of Japan, had a bit of an ego—not exactly undeserved, mind you.  His letter to the Joseon king Seongjo, demanding submission, was quite inflammatory, and the Sou clan realized immediately that it would be taken as an insult.  Not only could it jeopardize relations with the continent, it could also jeopardize their own unique status.  Which is why they decided to modify it using what in modern computer hacker terms might be called a man-in-the-middle attack – which, with their fake seal game, they had plenty of experience with. The Sou were able to modify the language in each missive to make the language more acceptable to either side.  They also dragged their feet in the whole matter, delaying things for at least two years   But Hideyoshi's mind was set on conquest.  Specifically, he had ambitions of displacing the Ming dynasty itself, and he demanded that the Joseon court submit and allow the Japanese forces through to face the Ming dynasty.  The Joseon refused to grant his request, and eventually Hideyoshi had enough.  He threatened an invasion of Korea if the Joseon dynasty didn't capitulate to his requests. Throughout this process, the Sou attempted to smooth things over as best they could.  However, even they couldn't forge the words presented by a face-to-face envoy, nor could they put off Hideyoshi's anger forever.  And thus Tsushima became one of the launching off points for the Japanese invasions of Korea in 1592 and again in 1597.  Tsushima, along with nearby Iki, would have various castles built to help supply the invading forces.  One such castle was the Shimizuyama-jo, overlooking the town of Izuhara.  Some of the walls and earthworks can still be seen up on the mountain overlooking the town, and  there are trails up from the site of Kaneishi castle, down below.  Both of these invasions ultimately failed, though not without a huge loss of life and destruction on the peninsula—a loss that is still felt, even today. The second and final invasion ended in 1598.  Both sides were exhausted and the Japanese were losing ground, but the true catalyst, unbeknownst to those on the continent, was the death of Hideyoshi.  The Council of Regents, a group of five daimyo appointed to rule until Hideyoshi's son, Hideyori, came of age kept Hideyoshi's death a secret to maintain morale until they could withdraw from the continent. With the war over, the Sou clan took the lead in peace negotiations with the Joseon court, partly in an attempt to reestablish their position and their trade.  In 1607, after Tokugawa had established himself and his family as the new shogunal line, the Sou continued to fake documents to the Joseon court, and then to fake documents right back to the newly established bakufu so that their previous forgeries wouldn't be uncovered.  This got them in a tight spot.  In the early 1600s, one Yanagawa Shigeoki had a grudge to settle with Sou Yoshinari, and so he went and told the Bakufu about the diplomatic forgeries that the Sou had committed, going back years.  Yoshinari was summoned to Edo, where he was made to answer the allegations by Shigeoki.  Sure enough, it was proven that the Sou had, indeed, been forging seals and letters, but after examination, Tokugawa Iemitsu, the third Tokugawa Shogun, decided that they had not caused any great harm—in fact, some of their meddling had actually helped, since they knew the diplomatic situation with the Joseon court better than just about anyone else, and they clearly were incentivized to see positive relations between Japan and Korea.  As such, despite the fact that he was right, Yanagawa Shigeoki was exiled, while the Sou clan was given a slap on the wrist and allowed to continue operating as the intermediaries with the Joseon court. There was one caveat, however:  The Sou clan would no longer be unsupervised.  Educated monks from the most prestigious Zen temples in Kyoto, accredited as experts in diplomacy, would be dispatched to Tsushima to oversee the creation of diplomatic documents and other such matters, bringing the Sou clan's forgeries to a halt. Despite that, the Sou clan continued to facilitate relations with the peninsula, including some twelve diplomatic missions from Korea: the Joseon Tsuushinshi.  The first was in 1607, to Tokugawa Hidetada, and these were lavish affairs, even more elaborate than the annual daimyo pilgrimages for the sankin-kotai, or alternate attendance at Edo.  The embassies brought almost 500 people, including acrobats and other forms of entertainment.  Combined with their foreign dress and styles, it was a real event for people whenever they went. Today, these Tsuushinshi are a big draw for Korean tourists, and just about anywhere you go—though especially around Izuhara town—you will find signs in Japanese, Korean, and English about locations specifically associated with these missions. And in years past, they've even reenacted some of the processions and ceremonies. Speaking of Izuhara, this was the castle town from which the Sou administered Tsushima.  Banshoin temple was the Sou family temple, and contains the graves of many members of the Sou family.  In 1528, the Sou built a fortified residence in front of Banshoin, and eventually that grew into the castle from which they ruled Tsushima.  Today, only the garden and some of the stone walls remain.  The yagura atop the main gate has been rebuilt, but mostly it is in ruins.  The Tsushima Museum sits on the site as well.  Nearby there is also a special museum specifically dedicated to the Tsuushinshi missions. Izuhara town itself is an interesting place.  Much of what you see harkens back to the Edo period.  Much like Edo itself, the densely packed wood and paper houses were a constant fire hazard, and there were several times where the entire town burned to the ground.  As such they began to institute firebreaks in the form of stone walls which were placed around the town to help prevent fire from too quickly spreading from one house to the next.  This is something that was instituted elsewhere, including Edo, but I've never seen so many extant firewalls before, and pretty soon after you start looking for them, you will see them everywhere. The area closest to the harbor was an area mostly for merchants and similar working class people, and even today this can be seen in some of the older buildings and property layouts.  There are also a fair number of izakaya and various other establishments in the area.  Further inland you can find the old samurai district, across from the Hachiman shrine.  The houses and the gates in that area are just a little bit nicer.  While many modern buildings have gone up in the town, you can still find traces of the older buildings back from the days of the Sou clan and the Korean envoys. Today, Izuhara is perhaps the largest town on Tsushima, but that isn't saying much—the population of the entire island is around 31,000 people, only slightly larger than that of nearby Iki, which is only about one fifth the size of Tsushuma in land area.  From Izuhara, you can catch a ferry to Iki or all the way to Hakata, in Fukuoka.  You can also always take a plane as well. Before leaving Tsushima, I'd like to mention one more thing—the leopard cat of Tsushima, the Yamaneko.  This has become something of a symbol in Tsushima, but unfortunately it is critically endangered, at least on the island itself.  It is all but gone from the southern part of Tsushima—human encroachment on its habitat has been part of the issue, but so has the introduction of domesticated cats.  The yamaneko itself is about the size of a typical housecat, and might be mistaken for one, though it has a very distinctive spotted appearance.  Domesticated cats have been shown to outcompete their wild cousins, while also passing on harmful diseases, which also affect the population.  Just about everywhere you go you'll see signs and evidence of this special cat. There is also a breeding program in the north if you want to see them for yourself. Even the small Tsushima Airport is named Yamaneko Airport, and the single baggage claim features a whole diorama of little plush leopard cats wearing traditional clothing and waving hello to new arrivals. If you like rugged coastlines, fascinating scenery, and the odd bit of history thrown in, might I suggest taking a look at Tsushima, the border island between Japan and Korea. We only had a few days, but it was a truly wonderful experience.  Next up we caught the ferry to Iki island, the site of the ancient Iki-koku, possibly represented by the Yayoi era Harunotsuji site.  Of all the places I've been so far, this is second only to Yoshinogari in the work and reconstruction they've done.  They've even discovered what they believe to be an ancient dock or boat launch.  But we'll cover that next week, as we continue on our self-guided Gishiwajinden tour. Until then, thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to us at our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

Meanings of Antiquity: Myth Interpretation in Premodern Japan (Harvard UP, 2023) is the first dedicated study of how the oldest Japanese myths, recorded in the eighth-century texts Kojiki and Nihon shoki, changed in meaning and significance between 800 and 1800 CE. Generations of Japanese scholars and students have turned to these two texts and their creation myths to understand what it means to be Japanese and where Japan fits into the world order. As the shape and scale of the world explained by these myths changed, these myths evolved in turn. Over the course of the millennium covered in this study, Japan transforms from the center of a proud empire to a millet seed at the edge of the Buddhist world, from the last vestige of China's glorious Zhou Dynasty to an archipelago on a spherical globe. Analyzing historical records, poetry, fiction, religious writings, military epics, political treatises, and textual commentary, Matthieu Felt identifies the geographical, cosmological, epistemological, and semiotic changes that led to new adaptations of Japanese myths. Felt demonstrates that the meanings of Japanese antiquity and of Japan's most ancient texts were—and are—a work in progress, a collective effort of writers and thinkers over the past 1,300 years. Jingyi Li is a PhD Candidate in Japanese History at the University of Arizona. She researches about early modern Japan, literati, and commercial publishing. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/east-asian-studies

Meanings of Antiquity: Myth Interpretation in Premodern Japan (Harvard UP, 2023) is the first dedicated study of how the oldest Japanese myths, recorded in the eighth-century texts Kojiki and Nihon shoki, changed in meaning and significance between 800 and 1800 CE. Generations of Japanese scholars and students have turned to these two texts and their creation myths to understand what it means to be Japanese and where Japan fits into the world order. As the shape and scale of the world explained by these myths changed, these myths evolved in turn. Over the course of the millennium covered in this study, Japan transforms from the center of a proud empire to a millet seed at the edge of the Buddhist world, from the last vestige of China's glorious Zhou Dynasty to an archipelago on a spherical globe. Analyzing historical records, poetry, fiction, religious writings, military epics, political treatises, and textual commentary, Matthieu Felt identifies the geographical, cosmological, epistemological, and semiotic changes that led to new adaptations of Japanese myths. Felt demonstrates that the meanings of Japanese antiquity and of Japan's most ancient texts were—and are—a work in progress, a collective effort of writers and thinkers over the past 1,300 years. Jingyi Li is a PhD Candidate in Japanese History at the University of Arizona. She researches about early modern Japan, literati, and commercial publishing. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/intellectual-history

Meanings of Antiquity: Myth Interpretation in Premodern Japan (Harvard UP, 2023) is the first dedicated study of how the oldest Japanese myths, recorded in the eighth-century texts Kojiki and Nihon shoki, changed in meaning and significance between 800 and 1800 CE. Generations of Japanese scholars and students have turned to these two texts and their creation myths to understand what it means to be Japanese and where Japan fits into the world order. As the shape and scale of the world explained by these myths changed, these myths evolved in turn. Over the course of the millennium covered in this study, Japan transforms from the center of a proud empire to a millet seed at the edge of the Buddhist world, from the last vestige of China's glorious Zhou Dynasty to an archipelago on a spherical globe. Analyzing historical records, poetry, fiction, religious writings, military epics, political treatises, and textual commentary, Matthieu Felt identifies the geographical, cosmological, epistemological, and semiotic changes that led to new adaptations of Japanese myths. Felt demonstrates that the meanings of Japanese antiquity and of Japan's most ancient texts were—and are—a work in progress, a collective effort of writers and thinkers over the past 1,300 years. Jingyi Li is a PhD Candidate in Japanese History at the University of Arizona. She researches about early modern Japan, literati, and commercial publishing. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Meanings of Antiquity: Myth Interpretation in Premodern Japan (Harvard UP, 2023) is the first dedicated study of how the oldest Japanese myths, recorded in the eighth-century texts Kojiki and Nihon shoki, changed in meaning and significance between 800 and 1800 CE. Generations of Japanese scholars and students have turned to these two texts and their creation myths to understand what it means to be Japanese and where Japan fits into the world order. As the shape and scale of the world explained by these myths changed, these myths evolved in turn. Over the course of the millennium covered in this study, Japan transforms from the center of a proud empire to a millet seed at the edge of the Buddhist world, from the last vestige of China's glorious Zhou Dynasty to an archipelago on a spherical globe. Analyzing historical records, poetry, fiction, religious writings, military epics, political treatises, and textual commentary, Matthieu Felt identifies the geographical, cosmological, epistemological, and semiotic changes that led to new adaptations of Japanese myths. Felt demonstrates that the meanings of Japanese antiquity and of Japan's most ancient texts were—and are—a work in progress, a collective effort of writers and thinkers over the past 1,300 years. Jingyi Li is a PhD Candidate in Japanese History at the University of Arizona. She researches about early modern Japan, literati, and commercial publishing. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/religion

Meanings of Antiquity: Myth Interpretation in Premodern Japan (Harvard UP, 2023) is the first dedicated study of how the oldest Japanese myths, recorded in the eighth-century texts Kojiki and Nihon shoki, changed in meaning and significance between 800 and 1800 CE. Generations of Japanese scholars and students have turned to these two texts and their creation myths to understand what it means to be Japanese and where Japan fits into the world order. As the shape and scale of the world explained by these myths changed, these myths evolved in turn. Over the course of the millennium covered in this study, Japan transforms from the center of a proud empire to a millet seed at the edge of the Buddhist world, from the last vestige of China's glorious Zhou Dynasty to an archipelago on a spherical globe. Analyzing historical records, poetry, fiction, religious writings, military epics, political treatises, and textual commentary, Matthieu Felt identifies the geographical, cosmological, epistemological, and semiotic changes that led to new adaptations of Japanese myths. Felt demonstrates that the meanings of Japanese antiquity and of Japan's most ancient texts were—and are—a work in progress, a collective effort of writers and thinkers over the past 1,300 years. Jingyi Li is a PhD Candidate in Japanese History at the University of Arizona. She researches about early modern Japan, literati, and commercial publishing. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Support our show by becoming a premium member! https://newbooksnetwork.supportingcast.fm/japanese-studies

Meanings of Antiquity: Myth Interpretation in Premodern Japan (Harvard UP, 2023) is the first dedicated study of how the oldest Japanese myths, recorded in the eighth-century texts Kojiki and Nihon shoki, changed in meaning and significance between 800 and 1800 CE. Generations of Japanese scholars and students have turned to these two texts and their creation myths to understand what it means to be Japanese and where Japan fits into the world order. As the shape and scale of the world explained by these myths changed, these myths evolved in turn. Over the course of the millennium covered in this study, Japan transforms from the center of a proud empire to a millet seed at the edge of the Buddhist world, from the last vestige of China's glorious Zhou Dynasty to an archipelago on a spherical globe. Analyzing historical records, poetry, fiction, religious writings, military epics, political treatises, and textual commentary, Matthieu Felt identifies the geographical, cosmological, epistemological, and semiotic changes that led to new adaptations of Japanese myths. Felt demonstrates that the meanings of Japanese antiquity and of Japan's most ancient texts were—and are—a work in progress, a collective effort of writers and thinkers over the past 1,300 years. Jingyi Li is a PhD Candidate in Japanese History at the University of Arizona. She researches about early modern Japan, literati, and commercial publishing. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Part 3 of our Revised Introduction to Japanese History: the emergence of recorded history in Japan brings with it some more clarity on what's happening, but also new uncertainties. Show notes here. 

For part 2 of our Revised Introduction to Japanese History: what do we know about the origins of Japan's imperial family? And how does that knowledge line up with the mythology built around the family's rise? Show notes here. 

This week on Krewe of Japan Podcast... in light of Japan Society of New Orleans's  upcoming 2024 Sister City Exchange Program, the Krewe sits down with Nicholas McCullough, Coordinator of International Relations for the International Tourism Division in Matsue. Nicholas takes us through some of the must-see, must-do, must-eat options that Matsue has to offer inbound visitors! Stay tuned at the end for some information on how to participate in the New Orleans-Matsue Sister City Exchange Program in 2024!------ 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!------ About Nicholas & Matsue ------In Matsue Facebook PageImages in Matsue Instagram Page------ About New Orleans-Matsue Sister City Exchange Program ------JSNO Page about Exchange ProgramsBecome a Member of Japan Society of New Orleans

This episode we start our dive into the reign of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tenno.  This is going to be a brief overview of her reign so that we can dive more deeply into the individual subjects that come up. For more, check out our podcast blogpost at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-93 Rough Transcript: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 93: Time to Shake Things Up. Before we get started, a couple of shout-outs.  First to Anticia, for donating on Ko-Fi.com.  Thanks for your kind words and supporting our operations, including our website and this podcast.  And then to Lowbrow78 and to Parp for supporting us on Patreon.  If you want to join them, we have information on our website as well as at the end of every episode. Here we are, at the cusp of the 7th century.  With the death of Hasebe no Ohokimi, aka Sushun Tennou, we are about to jump into one of the most significant reigns to date: that of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennou.  I put this right up there with the reign of Waketakiru, aka Yuryaku Tennou, and like that period, we'll need several episodes to get through everything going on here.  In fact, I've been thinking about just how to do this, and I think before we get into it we need to cover the broad strokes and talk about a few things, and then I want to delve into some specifics over the coming episodes. This means we'll cover a lot this episode at a high level.  To start with, we'll talk about the power players of this period, and just who was really running the show—we have three people to pick from based on various interpretations of this era.  And that will have us talking about Shotoku Taishi, and of course Shotoku Taishi's impact vis-à-vis Buddhism, as well as the growth of Buddhism in general.  There is also the general Sinification of the court, which means that we also get to talk about clothing styles and the appearance of a new “17 Article Constitution” as well as the new 12 rank system for court officers.  And then there is everything happening on the mainland.  In 589 the Sui dynasty came to power, followed in 618 by the Tang.  And of course we still have Baekje and Silla going at it, and Yamato just cannot leave well enough alone when it comes to Nimna.  All of that will get covered in even more detail, later.  But don't worry, it isn't all going to be generalities and vague preparations.  We also have a little tidbit for you at the end about earthquakes and the deities that cause them, because *that* is something we can easily cover here. And one more thing:  This is the last reign that we have any documentation for in the Kojiki and the Sendai Kuji Hongi, even though the Kojiki is largely just genealogical information.  That means we are getting close to the end of the “Chronicles”.  We still have a lot of material to get through, though, including assassinations, coups, military expeditions, and even a full blown civil war.  All that to come later, after we get through this period. So let's set the stage, shall we?  This reign is coming at a very tumultuous time.  We've been through several sovereigns or would-be sovereigns in a very short span, starting with Tachibana no Toyohi and then Hasebe, aka Yomei Tennou and Sushun Tennou, not to mention the failed attempt to take the throne early by Hasetsukabe Anahobe and Mononobe no Moriya.  Even Hasebe was killed by his own Oho-omi, Soga no Umako—or at least at Umako's order, if not directly by his own hand.  It's become clear you didn't want to be crossing Umako, and he was the most powerful minister at court at this point.  There wasn't a cabal of Oho-omi and Oho-muraji, there was simply Umako at the top.  However, his rule was not absolute.  He still needed the buy-in of the other ministers, the heads of their own families, as well as the nominal approval of the sovereign and the royal family.  I'm honestly surprised nobody tried to put a dagger in his back, but then again anyone who might try had so far ended up with their successors caught up in probate, and it didn't matter how powerful a position they supposedly occupied. Still, Umako couldn't take the throne himself.  Not even he could get away with that looking like anything more than a power grab.  He had already positioned Soga-descended members of the royal family so that they were in the line of succession, something that really looks like it went against tradition—though how old that tradition was is more than a little sus, as we've mentioned before.  And so, with the death of Hasebe, someone was needed on the throne, but who was available?  The political violence had even extended to some of the heirs, like Prince Hikobito, and it is unclear how many princes were even left at this point. The Chronicles tell us that the ministers therefore turned to Kashikiya Hime, and begged her to take the throne. As a reminder, Kashikiya Hime was the form queen—wife to Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tennou.  Beyond that, she was a granddaughter of Soga no Iname, making Soga no Umako her maternal uncle.  Her father was Ame Kunioshi Hiraki Hiro Niha, aka Kimmei Tennou.  During the period following Ame Kunioshi's death, she had attempted to put her finger on the scales of the power struggles that occurred, and she seemed to be a person that people listened to and took seriously in her role, though male heirs were at least initially considered before her. And so, when she was first asked to take the throne after Hasebe, she refused, but eventually the court ministers able to convince her.  Upon coming to power she  almost immediately made Prince Umayado the Heir Apparent, or Taishi—the Crown Prince.  Then we are told that, along with Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi, she and Soga no Umako, the Oho-omi, ruled the government.  And I hope I don't need to point out how exceedingly strange this wording is.  Technically it isn't unprecedented—in previous reigns we've certainly seen the Crown Prince taking an active role in the government, and the Oho-omi and the Oho-muraji, together, were frequently in positions to advise, counsel, and downright run the government, often skipping over the sovereign altogether.  So nothing here is so far outside the scope, but it is still odd that it was so blatantly stated, and there is good reason to believe that we don't have the whole story. Theories on Kashikiya Hime and her reign vary widely.  Michael Como claims that she was likely a consensus candidate—she was put forward because she was not overly objectionable to any of the other parties involved.  I suspect she had links to both sides of the dispute, so this make some sense, but I also wonder if it doesn't remove her own agency. Speaking of which, there is the possibility that she had very little agency in any of this.  There is the possibility that she was no more than a puppet—a relatively docile sovereign that Soga no Umako, or even Prince Umayado, could control, allowing them to work in the background.  Indeed, one of the things we'll see during this period is the increasing ritualization of the role of the sovereign, to the point that the Oho-omi was a powerful intermediary, receiving missives to the throne and relaying them onward, with ample opportunity to affect just how they were heard.  Often the Chroniclers found ways to deny the true agency of women on the throne, noting them less as sovereigns, and more as regents—often merely keeping the seat warm until an appropriate male heir presented himself and came of age.  That may have been the case at times, but I have a hard time seeing that in Kashikiya Hime.  Maybe when she first married Nunakura that may have been her outlook, but since then she'd seen some things.  She knew how the game worked, and we've seen her actively mentioned supporting one candidate or another, and not always agreeing with Soga no Umako's decisions.  It is possible that this was added later to support her independence in the Chronicles, but I think that the easier answer is that Kashikiya Hime was her own person, and as ruler she was the authority that held sway. Still, there are so many questions, and a lot of those revolve around her choice of successor, Prince Umayado, the Prince of the Horse Stable Door, aka Shotoku Taishi. Shotoku Taishi is one of those legendary figures, somewhere between Yamato Takeru and Abe no Seimei.  So many stories have grown up around this sage prince that it is truly hard to pry fact from fiction, and many wonder if he ever existed at all.  Others suggest that he's an amalgamation of several different historical and legendary figures.  Even by the time the Chronicles were being written his legends had reached cult like status, with numerous Buddhist temples claiming some connection to this founding sage of Japanese Buddhism, however tenuous.  It doesn't stop there, however.   Shotoku Taishi is said to have written one of the earliest national histories, and there are claims that this early history is none other than the Kūjiki, the text that we have in the Sendai Kūji Hongi. Some have speculated that this why that work and the Kojiki both stop here, with the reign of Kashikiya Hime. Of course, in the case of the Kojiki, the real narrative stopped some time ago, with the later reigns containing little more than genealogical lists.  The Sendai Kūji Hongi is a little more interesting. It Is clear that the authors of the Nihon Shoki and the Sendai Kūji Hongi were working from some of the same texts, with possibly one referencing the other, but at the same time there are small differences that suggest different authors with different purposes.  The Nihon Shoki certainly has more details on the official histories, while the Sendai Kūji Hongi contains sections on the genealogical information of the Mononobe and Owari families as well as information on various provincial governors. Personally, I find it highly questionable that the Sendai Kūji Hongi might be written by Shotoku Taishi, but I concede that it, along with the Nihon Shoki, might have both borrowed from an earlier work. Nonetheless, it does stop, and only the Nihon Shoki covers the next couple centuries, though in even greater detail.  We start to see more granular details about many items, though there are still questions. Given all of the swirl around Shotoku Taishi, however, I've had to think about just what tack to take with him, and for now we'll take a look at what the official narrative has to say, and then perhaps add a bit more context.  I'll frequently be referring to him here as Prince Umayado, and we'll focus on him primarily as a prince and a political figure. Given that, there is the question of whether or not Prince Umayado was actually running things. I'm not aware of any tradition that claims he was more than the Crown Prince, and as such a powerful advisor to the throne.  Umako seems more likely as a power behind the throne, but there are certainly clues that Umayado was up there—and of course, in later years, Shotoku Taishi's own shine meant that people were more likely than not to attribute just about anything good from this period to him and his auspices, even if it was just because he suggested it. But that brings us to the question:  Just what happened during this reign that was worth anyone taking credit for?  What happened that we are spending our time talking about it? To start with, the reign was just long.  Kashikiya Hime was taking the throne around 593 and she would reign up until her death in 628.  That was over thirty years, which is a good run for any sovereign, for reasons we've covered before, such as the fact that they are usually coming to the throne when they are older, etc.  Remember, she was probably born in the 530s, possibly 538, and so she took the throne in her late 50s or early 60s and held it until she was about 90 years old. During this period, there was a lot of change going on outside the archipelago as well as inside.  In 589, the Sui dynasty had come to power, uniting the Yellow River and Yangtze River basins.  Their reign officially ended about 618, though that wasn't necessarily a given at the time, and they were certainly a powerhouse as they united the northern and southern dynasties.  The Sui status fell in 618 only because it was replaced by a new dynasty: The Tang dynasty.  This was a dynasty founded by Li Yuan, a cousin of the Sui emperors, with a multi-ethnic background including Han and non-Han parentage, who came from a traditionally Xianbei—or by that time Tuoba—region.  Tang dynasty culture would come to influence all of the cultures on the peninsula and the archipelago, truly becoming the “Middle Country” that various states looked to as a cultural touchstone.  Tang culture spread throughout East Asia. The states on the Korean Peninsula had been absorbing the culture of the riverine courts for some time—honestly ever since the time of the Han commanderies.  As Buddhism percolated through the elite societies of Baekje, Silla, and now Yamato, it was more than just religious transmission.  Sutras had been translated into Sinic characters, and Buddhist learning often went hand-in-hand with texts on a variety of other issues, as there was no formal line drawn between science, philosophy, and religion. And so, as Yamato embraced Buddhism, there were other avenues of studies that also came over the straits, often attributed to the descendants of the Han dynasty, but largely filtered through a Baekje or even Silla lens.  We see this manifest in myriad ways, from the various physical objects left behind in tombs, etc., as well as the clothing, of which we have several indications that the islands were adopting continental practice.  However, we also have passages about the adoption of certain knowledge or technology, as well: everything from philosophy and calendar making to geomancy and even magic and the art of invisibility. And then we see another important development this reign: The first constitution in Japan.  Known as the 17-Article Constitution, it is attributed to none other than Shotoku Taishi himself, making him, in a way, the father of the country.  Granted, the constitution was light on actual details, and more like a collection of moral maxims.  This included things like anti-corruption tenets, suggesting that maybe you shouldn't do things in government just because someone paid or flattered you.  Still, these were not necessarily formative statements.  After all, the Yamato state had customs and traditions, and so these were seen as more guiding principles than the kind of generative formulae that you might find in something like the US Constitution, where they were attempting to deliberately define the legal framework for a brand new nation. Nonetheless, it is seen as the start of a new era for Yamato.  This law may have been loosely worded, but it was, eventually, written down.  It also was quickly followed by a new ranking system.  The kabane system of ranking didn't go away—not even the traditional individual honorifics, like Sukune, although that would have a bit of gap in the record.  The Kabane system remained in use to rank the various families, but then a twelve cap system was instituted to rank individual courtiers.  This was a first.  While certain courtiers certainly had privileges—for example, the heads of certain families—the ranking system, which came to be used, in one form or another, throughout east Asia, was a distinctly continental tradition.  On the face of it, this was about setting up a meritocracy.  Those who were most deserving would stand at the top, overseeing those below them.  Of course in Yamato, “most deserving” usually meant those who came from the right families, so we'll see how that evolves over time. We also see some changes in the way that Yamato was coming to view itself as the center versus the periphery.  Lands that were once sovereign units unto themselves, had gone from simply acknowledging the nominal hegemony of Yamato to finding their subservient position being written into the law.  We see an idea that individual governors—the lords of those regions now part of the larger Yamato state—should not levy their own taxes, but that there should be a single tax on the people.  This is a critical concept, and it would be interesting to see just how well it was obeyed; certainly in later periods it was often the prerogative of local governors to adjust the taxes to take into account their, ahem, overhead.  Nominally this was to cover the costs of local administration, but in many periods it was assessed by those in charge, locally, to help cover their personal costs, and was often set based on what the local administrators thought that they could get away with, as all of the excess went to line their own pockets.  This would make provincial governorships rather lucrative, though being that far from the capital and the seat of power would have its drawbacks.  This is a not uncommon model for tax collecting in different societies, where tax collectors paid themselves out of the taxes they collected. At this point in time, however, the central government was clearly trying to get a handle on this practice, and it makes sense as they were trying to assert more direct sovereignty over the land and the people.  So it would not do to have the people paying taxes to two lords, since there could be only one ultimate sovereign, and they were seated on the throne in Yamato.  This goes along with a continual thread of centralization of state control, another concept that they were likely pulling from the way that continental states were organized. And all of this came along with a healthy dose of Buddhism.  This reign we see the completion of Asukadera, one of the key temples to be set up in this time.  We also get indications of the start of Shitennouji, in modern Ohosaka, the ancient temple of Houryuji, which even today still boasts the oldest wooden building in the world, and the temple of Koryuji, in the Uzumasa district of modern Kyoto.  In addition to this we are told that the elites went on something of a temple-building craze. This temple building craze—and particularly the building of state sponsored temples—would be a new sign of elite status, but it would also pull resources away from previous traditional efforts.  Most notably, the labor going to build, staff, and maintain Buddhist temples would pull people away from the building and maintaining of monumental tombs.  This doesn't mean that they would go away, but the tombs certainly changed, and we would see them become smaller, less prominent, and, ultimately, they would be just about phased out altogether, except for a few particularly prominent examples. In addition to the growing influence of the Buddhist religion, relations with the mainland were also notable.  There are several mentions of different types of “tribute” from Baekje, Silla, Goguryeo, and even various parts of the archipelago. Of course, once more we kick off the regular attempts to “free” Nimna from Silla rule.  However, it should be noted that there isn't a lot of corroborating evidence for any of Yamato's peninsular activities.  Perhaps this is due to the fact that they were successful, and that hardly appealed to those compiling works like the Samguk Sagi, who were, after all, writing to help prop up the Silla kingdom  and their royal family just as the Japanese Chroniclers were doing for theirs.  There is also the possibility that this was something that didn't happen.  Or at least not as it is described.  It is quite possible that the impact of any attempts to chastise Silla were overblown, or even anachronistic.  Long story short, we don't see any lasting gains by Yamato this period, with many of the attempted military excursions being halted or called off for a number of reasons. We also see Yamato racing farther afield.  Although they call them the Great Tang, based on the timing it seems that Yamato made direct contact with the Sui dynasty some time after the latter had one again unified the area of eastern China.  This contact was significant in a time when the Court, in general, was turning to more Sinified continental practices.  It is also significant that Yamato approached these contacts with a certain pride, assuming an equal status in their communications.  This is borne out in the Chinese histories as well. All in all, there is a lot going on here, so we are going to deep dive into many of these topics. That said, there is one thing that I'll cover in this episode as I'm not sure it really fits well into anything else, but it is a fun diversion.  It happened in the summer of 599, about six years into Kashikiya Hime's reign.  Specifically it was the 27th day of the 4th lunar month when the peace of the realm was disturbed by a tremendous earthquake that we are told “destroyed all the houses”. Now Japan is no stranger to earthquakes.  They sit on the Pacific Rim's “Ring of Fire”, and volcanic and geologic activity is largely responsible for the islands' shape and mountainous terrain.  Not only that, but many of the volcanos across the island are still active, even today.  One stat I read suggested that 10% of the world's active volcanoes are in Japan.  We talked about two eruptions that we know about from the early 6th century back in Episode XXX, but still, those are rare enough.  There has been roughly only one significant eruption every hundred years or so, that we know of.  Meanwhile, Japan experiences about 1500 earthquakes each year.  Most of them are probably not even noticed by anyone not looking at a seismograph, of course.  Over the past decade there has been more than one earthquake each year at magnitude 7 or higher, but these are often in particular places.  Quick digression here—but if you hear about an earthquake in Japan, the numbers that they use to calculate the size are often different from what you might find in the US or other countries.  In the US we usually talk about the Richter scale, developed in 1935 by Charles Richter.  It measures the magnitude in a logarithmic scale, meaning that a category 7.0 earthquake is actually 10 times as powerful as a category 6.0.  Likewise a category 8.0 is ten times that of a 7.0, and one hundred times more powerful than a 6.0.  However, this only really provides the local magnitude, and it doesn't tell you other things, such as the type of force—a sharp crack versus rolling waves, for example—or even the duration.  In Japan, there are a few different ways that the Japanese Meterological Agency classifies earthquakes, and one of those is the Seismic Intensity scale, also known as the Shindo scale. The Shindo scale is more concerned with the effects of the earthquake than simply the magnitude, and while there are 10 different classifications, it only goes up to 7, as levels 5 and 6 are broken up into “Weak” and “Strong” intensities.  This can lead to some misunderstanding when looking at a report regarding Japanese earthquakes, as 7 is the highest they go, but they aren't measuring things the same way. However you measure it, there have been significant earthquakes, with a magnitude of 7.0 or higher, or with loss of life and property, over once a year, on average.  The damage and effects are often somewhat localized, but with modern media it is easy to learn about these earthquakes, which can certainly make it seem like they are happening all the time.  On the other hand, back in ancient times, news would take time to travel.  Still, it is remarkable to me that we really haven't seen anything in the Chronicles on major earthquakes up to this point, similar to how it is strange that we haven't really heard about any major volcanos.  There was an earthquake back in the reign of Woasatsuma no Wakugo, aka Ingyou Tennou, and we mentioned it in Episode 56.  It damaged the temporary burial of the previous sovereign, which is why it was considered of note, but otherwise it was largely just a passing mention to a natural phenomenon.  It is possible that we didn't hear about them because the Nara Basin just didn't experience anything that sizeable, or if there was, it just didn't make it into the records.  Meanwhile, the smaller quakes may have been no less common than heavy rains, and equally predictible. Compare that to later in the Nihon Shoki, where the 7th century would see at least 19 of 22 mentions of the word “earthquake”.  While it is possible that was just a particularly active century, I tend to suspect that it meant that from this point on we probably are getting better records, and thus we will get details that might not have otherwise survived if we were just relying on the historical highlights. In this case, it sounds as if the earthquake was particularly destructive, perhaps a level 6 or higher on the Shindo intensity scale.  And, of course, it impacted the Yamato elites.  We aren't told of any deaths, but it was still a traumatic event and the court took immediate action.  No, they didn't issue emergency relief funds, and they didn't provide labor to rebuild all the houses—or at least not that is mentioned.  No, the Court had something more important it needed to do:  and so orders were given to sacrifice to the “god of earthquakes.” This does make some sense.  After all, a large part of the sovereign's portfolio was in regards to the spiritual realm.  Sure, there was the administration of the state, but just about anyone could provide funding or even people to help with physical tasks.  The role of the sovereign, however, was often as the intermediary between Heaven and Earth; between the kami and human beings.   And so it was completely within Kashikiya Hime's responsibilities to try and placate the spirits that had caused this disaster and to prevent future earthquakes. Now the name of the god of earthquakes is not exactly given.  It is sometimes read as “Nawi” or “Nai” no kami, but even then it is just referencing the shaking land, or “Na”.  There are traditions that connect this kami to one that we've heard about before, Takemikazuchi. Takemikazuchi's name lets us know that he is a thunder deity, and it is not difficult to make a connection between the rolling thunder in the sky and the rolling waves of an earthquake.  Takemikazuchi's previous appearance in the Nihon Shoki was back in the Age of the Gods, when Takemikazuchi and Futsunushi came down to help pacify the land, and particularly the land of Izumo.  Today, Takemikazuchi is worshipped at Kashima Jingu, in the old land of Hitachi, and he is, in fact connected with earthquakes. There is an old belief that earthquakes were actually caused by giant catfish, or Namazu—and once again there is that “Na” component possibly making an appearance.  These old stories said that when the Namazu thrashed about, underground, the land would shake.  When this happened, Takemikazuchi found the kaname ishi, a stone at the top of the catfish's head that poked out above ground.  He struck this stone so hard that there is a divot in the rock even up to this day.  That stone sits on the grounds of Kashima shrine.  It may not look like much, but according to the shrine they tried to dig it out and found that it wasn't just a rock, but it was part of a much larger stone that continued deep into the earth.  Today this stone is a focus for worship to help prevent earthquakes. Now the kaname ishi is not only found in Kashima—there is another one a short distance away at the famous Katori shrine as well, where they worship the spirit of Futsunushi.  There are also Kaname Ishi found in Ohomura Shrine, in Iga, as well as another Kashima shrine in modern Miyagi prefecture.  These are all central to eastern Honshu, possibly indicating a common thread amongst all of them. I would note that I don't know when the tradition of the kaname ishi stone, or that story about Takemikazuchi, first came about, or if that is even the original telling of the story.  We do have an entry in the Shoku Nihongi, the successor history to the Nihon Shoki, where there were shrines to the—or an—“earthquake god” in all seven of the home provinces.  I suspect that local deities were often consulted, and different local traditions may have held some shrines, kami, and rituals as more effective than others. Regardless, I hope it has been an interesting diversion.  I know it was something I enjoyed, having recently visited Kashima and Katori shrines and seen their Kaname Ishi in person—I'll have photos up on the website.  Do you know of other earthquake related rituals or shrines?  Please hit me up online, either on Twitter—or whatever the platform is calling itself today---Facebook, or via email, at the.sengokudaimyo@gmail.com.  I'd love to hear if you know of more shrines that specialize in subduing earthquakes. Next time we'll want to start some of our deep dives.  By then I hope to have done a bit more research on some of the various topics so that we can really tie this all together. Until then, thank you for listening and for all of your support.  If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. 

Acabamos la tercera temporada del podcast con un episodio ligero sobre el mito de la creación de Japón, que ya se cuenta en el Kojiki, escrito en 712. Un libro que, aunque se llame "crónica histórica", tiene una gran parte de mitología. Te contamos sobre Izanagi e Izanami y, por supuesto, sobre la deidad del sol Amaterasu y su hermano Susanō, que se llevan fatal. De Amaterasu descienden (mitológicamente, claro) los emperadores japoneses según este escrito. Al final, hacemos un breve repaso por lo que ha dado de sí la temporada y os pedimos ideas de episodios que queráis para la cuarta, que empieza en breve. Nosotros tenemos ya muchas ideas, pero siempre escuchamos lo que tenéis que decir. ¡Mata ne! ¿Quieres colaborar con el programa? - Colabora en Patreon - Únete a la Comunidad Japonismo - Reserva hoteles en Japón (y en todo el mundo) - Consigue seguro de viajes (¡no sólo para Japón!) - Busca los mejores vuelos - Lleva Internet (pocket wifi o SIM) - JR Pass para viajes ilimitados en tren ---- Continúa la conversación en: - Web: https://japonismo.com - Discord: https://discord.gg/hZrSa57 - Facebook: https://facebook.com/japonismo - Twitter: https://twitter.com/japonismo - Instagram: https://instagram.com/japonismo - Pinterest: https://pinterest.com/japonismo - Newsletter semanal: http://eepurl.com/di60Xn

Fresh off the killing of Anahobe and the destruction of the Mononobe, Soga no Umako is riding high as a new sovereign, Prince Hasebe, takes the throne.  Surely things will have finally settled down, won't they have done? For more, check out our podcast page at: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-92 Rough Transcription: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is Episode 92: Death or Taxes, aka Don't Piss Off Umako. Before we get going, a quick recap: we are still in the late 6th century, and since the death of Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tennou, things have been a bit crazy.  The number of apparently legitimate heirs was rather impressive.  There were the various siblings of Nunakura, both full and half-siblings, and there were his children and his siblings' children.  On top of that, there were some truly tense politics amongst some of the most powerful families in the realm, particularly the ancient Mononobe and the more recent Soga family, who had tied themselves so closely with the royal family through marriage that at this point just about every possible heir to the throne was in some way a Soga descendant.  The stories of this era have been filled with stories of death, war, and struggles for the throne.  Finally, there is the tension between Buddhism, which was first introduced in the early 6th century, and the established worship of the various kami, which also speaks to the tensions between various sources of spiritual political authority. As we discussed int the last two episodes, when Nunakura passed away, Prince Anahobe tried to take the throne, and he was initially thwarted by Miwa no Kimi no Sakahe, aka Sakahe no Kimi.  Anahobe, possibly with the assistance of his brother, Prince Hasebe, as well as Mononobe no Ohomuraji no Moriya, killed Sakahe no Kimi, pissing off Nunakura's former Queen, Kashikiya Hime.  Next, Nakatomi no Muraji no Katsumi, in support of Mononobe no Moriya, attempted to curse several of the candidates with stronger claims on the throne, and when that didn't work, he just out and out killed Crown Prince Hikobito, getting offed himself in the process.  Throughout all of this, another prince, Tachibana no Toyohi, apparently ascended, briefly, but seems to have died of natural causes.  In the process, however, he provided legitimacy for his own children as Royal Princes and Princesses to also contest for the throne. Moriya's support of Anahobe led to the death of Prince Anahobe, Prince Yakabe, and Moriya and his family—and many of his supporters, as well.  And yet, despite the loss of the Mononobe and Prince Anahobe, the next heir to the throne, with the approval of Queen Kashikiya Hime, was none other than Prince Hatsusebe, aka Hasebe, a full brother to the rebel Prince Anahobe and the focus of this episode.  If this all seems a bit confusing regarding the individuals and different factions, then congratulations, you've been paying attention.  The narrative certainly seems to be missing some key information, likely lost in the attempt to either whitewash some of the more contentious historical records, or simply due to the Chroniclers' attempts to create a more straightforward narrative out of a complex era which probably saw various courts competing to be recognized as the court that was actually making the decisions—something that doesn't exactly fit in with the attempt to tell the story of a relatively unbroken royal line. And yet, despite the chaos, we do see a solidification of power and control in general, as evidenced by the shift in late 6th century tomb structures.  As I may have mentioned in previous episodes, the Yamato area continued to build monumental round keyhole shaped tombs, but that shape of tomb simultaneously declined in nearby regions, which saw more round or square shaped—or even square keyhole shaped—tombs instead.  On the other hand, at the periphery, at the farthest reaches of the archipelago, we continue to see round keyhole shaped tombs in the Yamato style. This is all likely due to a consolidation of Yamato's power and authority.  Previously we had seen that start with the proliferation of the Yamato style tomb, but even from early times those round keyhole tombs were interspersed with other, typically smaller tombs.  The general assumption, based on the size, grave goods, and other archaeological features, is that the round keyhole tomb, at least in a Yamato context, was reserved for the Yamato royal family and only those of the most elite status.  In the Yamato and Kawachi regions, this seems to have held true, but further afield, local magnates adopted the round keyhole tombs for themselves, perhaps even appropriating some of the prestige of that tomb shape for themselves.  Similarly, it is very likely that Yamato did not have the power to stop local rulers from building whatever the heck they wanted, despite the impression given by the Chroniclers that all was hunky-dory as soon as Mimaki Iribiko and Ikume Iribiko sent out people to subdue the four corners of the archipelago. Whether because of an increased military might, or because of a cultural change in accepting Yamato's leadership, more and more lands seem to have been more directly under Yamato's sway, following their customs and accepting their position in the Yamato hierarchy.  To put it another way: in many parts of the archipelago, particularly those closer to Yamato, we do not see continued claims of “kingship” by the local elite.  They have accepted a lower status in the evolving hierarchy, presumably gaining some security and access to resources of the entire Yamato polity in the process, though that isn't entirely clear to me based purely on the archaeological evidence.  But according to our tomb theory, those on the periphery, where Yamato's control remained the weakest, continued to build their own round keyhole tombs, indicating they still considered themselves somewhat independent, even as they remained influenced by Yamato's overall cultural affectations. Into this world, Prince Hasebe ascended the throne.  Prince Hasebe was another half-brother to Nunakura Futodamashiki.  Like his full brother, Prince Anahobe Hasetsukabe, he was a Soga descendant through the maternal line.  We are told that his ascension was endorsed by Kashikiya Hime, his half-sister, and another Soga-descended royal.  He assumed the throne almost immediately following the turmoil that resulted in Anahobe's death and the destruction of Mononobe no Moriya.  This was in 587, and for the next five years, the reign appeared to be similar to any other, but I suspect that things hadn't quite settled, yet.  How could they?  It seems clear that it was way too easy for political violence to break out, and despite the Chronicles' insistence that everything was fine, many of the systemic issues that led to the violence in the first place were still there. To start with, you still had all of those potential heirs to the throne, and no clear succession tradition or precedence.  On top of that, each household, while created to serve the Court, had grown into its own political entity, vying for their own level of power and control.  No doubt some of this was exacerbated as Yamato's influence grew, bringing more people directly under Yamato's authority. I also can't help but notice that there appears to be a lack of any kind of clear justice system.  In fact, laws in general at this time appear to be based on precedent and tradition, likely oral tradition: although we have writing, we don't have a written system of laws just yet.  We have artifacts with writing on them.  We also have records of books coming over from the continent, which presumably people were able to read.  However, what was writing being used for?  It appears to have been used for communication—for example, diplomatic missions, or to send instructions and receive information back from the various lands under Yamato's rule.  David Lurie notes that this was a kind of practical writing, and it wasn't the same as the kind of extensive journaling that we would see later. It makes sense that much of the laws and traditions at this time were probably based on memorized precedent.  Groups like the Kataribe were organized around an oral tradition, and even the Kojiki was based on a tradition of oral recitation that was still in place by the late 7th century.  I suspect that different families maintained their own memories of precedence and tradition, collectively advising on what should be done in any given situation. This isn't exactly the kind of legal system with firm and fast rules, with everyone equal under the law, and some sort of immutable code.  That wasn't solely because it wasn't written down, mind you—there are plenty of cultures with oral traditions that maintain very clear sets of laws.  However, in this case it was not written down and given what we see and what we know about later court, legal precedent was kept in the memories of various individuals in different families, all of whom were competing for their place in the hierarchical structure that had been created.  Therefore, as long as you could get enough people on your side, then you determined what was just and what was not.  And of course it was the winners who wrote—or at least remembered—the history.   Strong leadership may have been able to keep things stable, but during any change things could get messy, as we've seen time and again.  And had Anahobe and the Mononobe been triumphant we'd likely be reading a very different telling of events. Hasebe's ascension didn't really change any of that, other than the person at the head of the system.  Still, things seemed to hold together alright, and with the recent purges, hopefully things would settle out after a while. The reign started with the standard ceremonies.  Soga no Umako was confirmed as Oho-omi, and though other “Ministers and Daibu”, or high officials, were confirmed, nobody else is named.  Hasebe's palace was set up at Kurahashi, presumably in the hills south of modern Sakurai.  His wife was Koteko, daughter of Ohotomo no Nukade. In his first year, Baekje sent envoys that included Buddhist priests and relics, along with various Buddhist artisans.  We'll probably touch on them more at a later date, but for now I'll note that with their coming, Soga no Umako consulted with them on several matters regarding Buddhism, and then he went ahead and pulled down the house of a man named Konoha and started work on another temple.  This one was known as Hokoji, though it is more popularly known to us by its common name:  Asukadera. Asukadera is perhaps the oldest purpose-built Buddhist temple commissioned by the state, and I think we can do an entire episode just on that temple alone.  The Chronicles make out that it was built to commemorate the supernatural support granted to Umako in his battle against Mononobe no Moriya, though it is impossible to know for certain how much of that is true.  What we can say is that this time there were no dissenting voices from the Mononobe nor the Nakatomi, and Asukadera would become one of the major temples of the Asuka period.  Later, when the capital was built up at Heijo-kyo, in modern Nara, the temple was moved to the new capital, and the complex in Asuka dwindled in importance.  Today you can still visit a temple at the site of Asukadera, but it is a shell of its former self, having been rebuilt on a much smaller footprint than before.   You can, however, go and see the original Buddha statue—or at least the reconstructed form of it, as the original icon was severely damaged in a fire at one point. But building up a proper temple and pagoda in the continental fashion would all take time—for now it appears that they were just breaking ground on a new construction, rather than just repurposing a part of an existing house into the temple, as they had seemingly done in the past.  This was going to take some time.  At the same time, it wasn't just buildings that were needed, and we are told that several Buddhists returned to Baekje along with the envoys.  We are told that they were going to Baekje to gain further instruction in Buddhist teachings. This was the nun Zenshin, daughter of Shiba Tattou, and her companions, who had been ordained at the order of Soga no Umako to help staff his first attempt at building a worship site at his house. The following year, in 589, we are told that there were three “inspections” that were sent out along the various circuits, or roadways, of eastern Honshu.  These circuits were regions of Japan, and come from a continental tradition that would be formalized in the law codes of the early 7th century.  Generally speaking there are usually 7 circuits—8 once Hokkaidou comes into the picture—and then the capital region, often known as the home territories around Yamato and the Nara basin.  Kyushu and Shikoku were each covered by their own circuits:  The Saikaidou, or Western Sea Circuit, covered all of Kyushu, and eventually the Ryukyu islands as well, while the Nankaidou, or Southern Sea circuit covered from the south of the Kii peninsula and the island of Shikoku.  Western Honshu was covered by another two circuits—there was the San'indou, the Mountain Yin Circuit, and the San'yodou, the Mountain Yang Circuit.  Yin being related to the dark and the north, the San'indou covered the areas to the north of the Western mountain range along the Japan Sea coast, from the land of Tanba west to Iwami, including the lands of Inaba and Izumo.  In contrast, Yang was related to the south, and so the San'yodou covered the regions from Harima, next to the land of Settsu, part of modern Ohosaka, and stretched along the southern side of the mountains to the Seto Inland sea to the western land of Nagato, part of modern Yamaguchi Prefecture, and included the ancient land of Kibi. Finally, there were the three circuits of Eastern Honshu, which were the subject of the Chronicles entry in 589.  First off was the Tousando, or the Eastern Mountain Circuit.  Whereas western Honshu can be largely divided by the mountains into a northern and southern region, eastern Honshu was a little different, as the Japanese alps created difficulties that meant that the Tousandou covered the inland regions, starting at Afumi, around lake Biwa, out to Kenu—modern Gunma and Tochigi prefectures, north of Tokyo.  It would eventually include the distant regions of Dewa and Mutsu, which covered much of the Tohoku region up to Hokkaido, although those were still largely outside of the area of Yamato influence, and home to those that the Yamato court called Emishi.  The man sent to inspect this region was named Afumi no Omi no Kamafu—fitting given that Afumi was at the western end of the circuit. Next they sent Shishibito no Omi no Kari to inspect the Toukaidou, or Eastern Sea circuit.  This circuit proceeded from Iga, Ise, and Owari, eastward along the Pacific coast to Hitachi, in modern Ibaraki prefecture.  It includes much of modern Tokyo, and is likely one of the more well known, if only for things like the JR Tokaido line.  This route became well traveled in the Edo period both for the daimyo processions of the sankin-kotai as well as the pilgrimages from Edo to Ise, and onward to points even further west. Finally, we have a member of the Abe no Omi heading out to inspect the Hokurikudou, the Northern Land Circuit.  This was largely the area known in the Chronicles as Koshi, along the Japan Sea Coast.  The Abe family may have had some influence in that region, though it is said that they originally came from the land of Iga, just east of Yamato.  However, we aren't given a specific individual's name—Abe no Omi is just the family name and their kabane rank, and could indicate any member of the Abe family.  This may have to do with the actions of Abe no Hirafu in the late 7th century, but at this point in the story it is unclear.  We are provided the given names of the other inspectors, however—Kamafu and Kari—so it stands out that we have nothing for the inspector of the Hokurikudou other than their family name. Other than the mention of the circuits, and the inspections that the court was conducting, this seems to be a fairly mundane entry—though it does link to some later events.  Still, it provides a little more evidence for the expansion of Yamato's direct control.  The idea that there were court inspectors checking up on these territorial circuits suggests that they were a somewhat active part of the bureaucracy of the court.  Previously the court had set up the Miyake, or royal granaries, which were extensions of royal authority in various areas.  Now we see an additional layer of government that would have been going through the areas and making sure that things were being administered as Yamato believed.  It also suggests that there were those in these circuits who were beholden to Yamato in that they were required to produce some kind of evidence for what they were up to. The year after, in 590, the big news was apparently the return to Japan of Zenshin and others, and we are told that they took up residence at a temple in Sakurai – very possibly a reference to Hokoji or Asukadera, the newly-founded temple we just discussed.  Asuka is outside of the modern bounds of Sakurai city, but at this time the name Sakurai may have referred to a slightly larger and more nebulous area.  On the other hand, they could have settled at another temple in the area that just wasn't part of the state funded program.  In that same vein, later in 590 we are told that people went up into the hills to get timber for building Buddhist temples, and many more people, most of them with connections to the mainland, and especially the Korean peninsula, were ordained.  Buddhism was starting to grow more popular and it was being better patronized by the elites, and soon we will start to see more and more temples popping up. In 591, we see the final burial of Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tennou.  This was now many years since his death, but that isn't entirely surprising given the fighting and general turmoil that followed his death.  Building a tomb mound was not exactly a simple feat, and if one wasn't already prepared by the time he passed away, then it would have taken a while to prepare it—and even more time if much of your labor force was being split and repurposed in the fights for the throne.  As you may recall, Nunakura died of a disease, so it is unlikely that there had been a lot of preparation for his death, so we can assume that his body, after resting in the palace of temporary interment for a while, was eventually given a temporary burial and then they likely were reburying the bones several years later.  This isn't exactly unheard of, but it does seem that this was an exceptionally long period between death and final burial. The location of his tomb is said to be on the western side of the mountains, outside of the Nara Basin, in the area  of modern Taishi, in the south of Ohosaka.  This seems to have been a new region for royal burials, from what I can tell, but there would be several important Asuka era burials located in this region. Later in that same year, Hasebe and the court indulged themselves in something that was becoming almost a tradition:  Wondering aloud if they should go marching over to the peninsula and re-establish Nimna.  There's apparently no thought the fact that Nimna had not been a going concern for quite some time now, and this may have just been the popular casus belli of the Yamato court.  Of course, all of the ministers were for it, agreeing that it would be just the best if they could go over there and get Nimna started again. And so they set in motion the necessary work of gathering an army.  This wasn't a simple task and would take quite some time to get the word out, gather men together, and then have them all meet down in Tsukushi at the court's outpost down there.  Not only that, but there would need to be boats made, and armor and weapons would have to be ready.  This was quite the undertaking.  We are told that they eventually gathered over 20,000 men, though that could easily be an exaggeration.  They named five generals, or Taishogun.  This is different from the “Shogun” of later years—the Sei-I Taishogun, or General for Subduing Barbarians.  This is just the title of general, Taishogun, and there were apparently five people who were running things—possibly referring to five different forces that were going to go over, or it may have been a political thing to ensure that people of rank were given opportunities.  It is interesting to see the names, as we have heard some of the family names, at least, before. The five generals were:  Ki no Womaro no Sukune, Kose no Omi no Hirafu, Kashiwade no Omi no Katafu, Ohotomo no Kuhi no Muraji, and Katsuraki no Wonara no Omi.  Then various other Omi and Muraji level individuals were placed in charge below them.  They were all stationed in Tsukushi and two men, Kishi no Kana and Kishi no Itahiko were sent to Silla and Nimna respectively, presumably to try to work something out before things got ugly. That was all listed in the 11th month of 591, and preparations were still ongoing by the time of the next entry, in the 10th month of 592. So remember how I mentioned at the top of the episode about how many of the systemic issues that had led to so much war and bloodshed were still a thing?  Yeah—despite the seemingly rosy and downright mundane picture of the last five years, things were apparently not quite as stable as they may have appeared.  And I say that because of what happened in the 10th month of 592. We are told that this was the winter, possibly around late November or December according to our modern calendar—trying to map ancient lunar calendar dates to modern solar dates are a whole thing, trust me.  Anyway, it was during this season that someone brought in a wild boar and presented it to the sovereign.  And there was nothing too sus going on there—it wasn't a white boar or some kind of unusually large animal.  No, what was remarkable wasn't the presentation at all, but what it kicked off, because apparently Hasebe looked at the boar and made an off-hand comment, which Aston translates as: “When shall those to whom We have an aversion be cut off as this wild boar's throat has been cut.” Just in case you didn't get the allusion, he was basically wondering when those people whom he didn't like would be killed—though possibly he meant cut off in another sense, I think it is pretty clear that he wanted some people taken care of, if you know what I mean.  I would liken it to a phrase attributed to King Henry II of England, who is said to have wondered aloud, “Will no one rid me of this turbulent priest”, which led to several men heading out and eventually killing Thomas Becket, the then Archbishop of Canterbury.  While Henry may not have actually ordered the killing of Thomas Becket, with whom he'd been in something of a power struggle, his words certainly ended up being the catalyst that led to the archbishop's eventual demise. Similarly here, that certainly seems to have been the intent, or at least that is how it was taken.  Word of the sovereign's outburst made it back to none other than Soga no Umako, the Oho-omi himself, who grew more than a little bit worried.  It didn't help that word was also coming that the royal household was apparently stockpiling weapons—more than usual. Soga no Umako came to believe that Hasebe was talking about him, and though there wasn't a particular reason given, it suggests that there were some things going on below the surface detailed by the Chronicles, and we can speculate on a few of them. First off, Hasebe had not been the first choice for sovereign, and he didn't really enter the picture until after the death of his brother, Prince Anahobe. Anahobe had, of course, believed that he should take the throne himself, but then he was killed.  It is possible that Hasebe was appointed sovereign to appease some of Anahobe's supporters against the wishes of those such as Soga no Umako. Second, it is clear that Umako was immensely influential and powerful, and he probably had more influence than the sovereign himself.  Always remember that if someone raises an army and helps put you on the throne, rather than themselves, they usually have the ability to do the same thing in reverse.  Or, as so many parents are fond of saying: I brought you into this world, I can take you out!  So it may be that Hasebe felt threatened by Umako's own power and felt he needed to be dealt with before Soga no Umako decided that he'd rather have someone more pliable on the throne.  Of course, in another time it might have been enough to just demote him, but it is unclear if Hasebe actually had the power to do that—and if he did, would it stick. There is also another option as well—Hasebe may not have said anything at all, and it is possible that this was a story concocted to explain Umako's own reaction.  This is hinted at, somewhat, in another account that basically comes in once again with the tired “blame the woman” trope.  It suggests that Ohotomo no Koteko, Hasebe's consort and the mother to his two children, started the whole thing as a rumor.  According to this account, she was “declining in favor”—although it is unclear just whom else she was competing against.  If that record is correct, she was the one who told Umako about what Hasebe was purportedly saying, knowing that it would cause problems for her husband because she was unhappy with him.  Even if that were true, we don't know whether or not Hasebe actually said what is attributed to him. Again, regardless of what Hasebe actually said, all of this suggests that things were not as solid and stable as they might otherwise appear to be, and suggests just how literally cut-throat the politics of the Yamato court could get. And so, Soga no Umako took this threat quite seriously, and he engaged the services of one Yamato no Aya no Atahe no Koma. We don't know much about Koma.  The Yamato no Aya were one of several Aya families, and their name suggests that they were descended, at least in part, from ethnic Han Chinese weavers—or at least traced their lineage back to the continent with claims to the Han dynasty, just as the Hata family claimed ties back to the Qin dynasty.  They had been in Japan for generations, but are still often associated with various technologies that came over from the continent. There is also a record, we are told, that says Koma's father was Yamato no Aya no Iwai—whose name is suspiciously similar to that of the Iwai in Tsukushi, or Kyushu, who had allied with Silla and tried to block trade and military support between Yamato and Baekje.  It is possible, and even probable, that this was just a coincidence—after all, why would the son of a rebel who had so aggravated Yamato be in the court at all?  But it was considered significant enough for the Chroniclers to mention it at the same time, and that may be because of the relationship back to that other rebel. Now, for Koma to take action, he and Umako would need to act quickly.  Soga no Umako sent a message to the court ministers and claimed that he was sending someone to present the taxes of the Eastern provinces.  As you may recall from earlier in this episode, a few years earlier inspectors had been sent out along the three eastern circuits.  It would have taken them time to survey, compile their information, and collect any taxes owed, and bring that back to the court.  Umako lied to the other ministers and said that the taxes were ready, and he was sending someone to the sovereign to present the taxes. Of course, he was really sending Yamato no Aya no Koma, and in lieu of taxes he brought death—somewhat fitting if you think about it.  Koma killed the sovereign and then, somehow, made his escape.  Unlike some of the other killings we aren't given too many details of the deed itself. What we are given is the aftermath.  For later in that same month, Soga no Umako had Koma himself killed.  And this is where I find it really weird, or perhaps the Chroniclers were just in denial.  They claimed that Soga no Umako had learned that Koma had been having a clandestine relationship with Kawakami no Iratsume, herself a consort of the sovereign and Soga no Umako's own daughter.  Koma had apparently taken her back to his place to live and made her his wife in secret—basically saying that they had carnal relations together as man and wife, though it is not clear whether or not they were consensual.  Umako thought that his daughter was dead, but when he learned that Yamato no Aya no Koma had taken her, he had Koma killed. And that just all seems so very convenient.  So Soga no Umako has enough influence over Koma to get him to assassinate the sovereign, but somehow misses that his co-conspirator in this has eloped with his daughter, and then kills him out of apparently justified rage?  Uh-huh.  Nothing fishy about that at all. I suspect that what happened at the time versus what was later recorded differed slightly.  Assuming that most of it was accurate, I wouldn't be surprised if Umako got Koma to do the dirty deed, and then offed him, possibly so that he would not be immediately implicated.  Even so, what were the laws around such events?  With Hasebe gone, and nobody else in power to challenge him, Soga no Umako was one of the most powerful people around.  He just didn't have the parental qualifications to take the throne himself. And that is probably what saved him from being labeled a rebel, himself.  After all, you don't get much more rebellious than killing the king.  But is it rebellion when it is self-defense?  Here is where the lack of a strict law code likely came down on the side of Soga no Umako, because despite his involvement, nobody seems to have gone after him or taken him to task.  In fact, he would remain a powerful figure in the Yamato court for years to come. There are also several figures who seem to have remained absent from all of this, but it would be interesting to know where they came down.  The first was Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi.  Did he sanction or even take part in this plot?  Umayado was still somewhat young, so he may not have had much to say at this point.  Then there was Kashikiya Hime, Nunakura's queen.  Presumably, she had been the one to recommend Hasebe to the throne, but we also see her hand in the decision to punish Anahobe and the Mononobe, which we discussed over the last couple of episodes.  She is often kept at arms length in the narrative, however, which may be because of what the Chroniclers already knew.  With the court once more in need of an heir they searched high and low, and the assembled ministers finally settled on the candidate they thought would be the best of all of them:  Kashikiya Hime herself.  It makes sense: Kashikiya Hime, who is known today as Suiko Tennou, clearly knew how the court operated.  She had sanctioned, if not outright directed, the deaths of Anahobe and Mononobe no Moriya. On the other hand, the patriarchal society of the day—and even that of modern day scholars—questioned her fitness for the job.  Many have pointed to the strongman tactics of Soga no Umako, as well as the focus on Prince Umayado, whom she made her Crown Prince and whom, we are told, assisted in all areas of government.  In fact, it often seems as though Umayado and Umako are the ones actually running things, with Kashikiya Hime as a puppet.  On the other hand, perhaps there was something even more complex—a conspiracy between Umako, Umayado, and Kashikiya Hime.  She may have also been something of a compromise candidate, someone that all of the different factions could get behind. We'll explore all of that and more as we get into her reign in the coming episodes, along with the role played by Prince Umayado.  We'll also look more in depth at the spread of Buddhism, and the temple building that would pick up shortly after Kashikiya Hime came to power.  Until then, thank you for listening and for all of your support.  If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan. 

This episode we set the stage for one of the most momentous conflicts of the 6th century.  A lot of change is coming to the islands, and the outcome of the power struggles would determine just what shape that change would take. For more see our podcast webpage:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-90   Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is episode 90: Setting the Stage So when last we left off, the sovereign Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tennou, had passed away, and there had been some early flirting with Buddhism, which largely ended up pitting members of the relatively new Soga family against the powerful forces of the ancient Mononobe, as well as their allies, the Nakatomi.  It even got so bad that the heads of the two houses, Soga no Umako and Mononobe no Moriya, were openly mocking each other at the sovereign's funeral.  And unfortunately, things weren't getting better any time soon. In fact, I should probably warn you that around this point in the narrative we are really going to get all Game of Thrones on the archipelago.  Family against family, sibling against sibling, with deadly political intrigue.  And as we get into it, we should talk about a few things up front to help put everything in context. So let's come back up to speed on the situation, shall we?  In the late 6th century, the royal court was in its third dynasty.  The sovereign, Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tennou,  died from a plague that settled on the land.  Across the straits, the once small kingdom of Silla was on the rise, having gobbled up the small polities around it, including Yamato's apparent ally, Nimna.  Now the southern peninsula was largely divided between two kingdoms, Silla and Baekje.  Both were in contact with the Yamato court.  And then there is the far distant northern power of Goguryeo, pressing southward themselves. Yamato's involvement on the peninsula meant there was quite a bit of cross-strait intercourse—in more ways than one.  There were Wa on the peninsula, but there were also groups of Baekje, Silla, and Goguryeo men and women who settled in the archipelago.  They brought with them various innovations and ways of thinking.  One of these things was the concept of corporate “Be” families.  Now, don't get me wrong, there clearly were families in the archipelago and had been for some time, but at some point we see the literal creation of the official families, the Uji: Groups of people who shared a similar job, gathered together under a family head, who in turn was given a place in the Yamato court.  The family then regulated the business of its members to the benefit of the court.  These created families, usually marked with the suffix of “Be”, became an outgrowth of the court's power, and they were in turn ranked with a collectivist title, or “kabane”.  The highest ranking uji were given the titles of “Muraji” and “Omi”, and the heads of those households were known as the “Ohomuraji” and the “Ohoomi”. One of the oldest of these families, on one side of this growing interal conflict, was known as the Mononobe.  They claimed a likely fictional descent from Nigi Hayahi, a “Heavenly grandchild”, similar to the ancestor of the royal family, Ninigi no Mikoto - an illustrious backstory that no doubt helped justify their position.  As for the rest, well, “Mononobe” literally translates to “the be of things” … and in this case, those things were weapons, reflecting a historical role of this important family as the enforcers and the heavyweights of the Yamato court.   Of course, they weren't the only ones with access to troops and weapons, as we've seen various families raising troops to go fight on the continent, and one can only assume that most powerful individuals at least had those they could call upon in case things got physical.  For all that administrative power was rooted in spiritual authority, physical power was also important, and we see this in the way that armor and swords were important elite grave goods, and not just for a single family. But few groups were so clearly tied to the exercise of martial power as were the Mononobe.  And they wielded that power on the behalf of the sovereign and the State.  Whether it was punishing rebels, or just executing the cruel whims of a violent and entitled ruler, the Mononobe were the ones, more often than not, knocking down your door in the middle of the night and dragging off those deemed enemies of the state. This position was such that you can see evidence of it in the earliest parts of the Chronicles.  For example, the Mononobe are connected to their ancestral shrine of Isonokami, one of the oldest shrines mentioned.  It was said to be the home of the sword that Susanoo no Mikoto, the wild brother of Amaterasu, used to slay the giant, 8-headed serpent, Yamata no Orochi, generally seen as a metaphor for Yamato conquering parts of Izumo.  Then there were the piles of swords made and stored at the shrine, which make it sound less like a place of spiritual worship and more like an armory—though let's face it, for some people those are basically one and the same. Add to that all of the times that the Mononobe were called upon to unalive some opponent to the throne, and we get a pretty clear picture of how they had for so long held a place at the very top of the court structure. On the other side is the Soga family, currently personified with Soga no Umako at their head.  While the Soga certainly traced their lineage back a respectable distance, including to Takechi no Sukune and others, at this point they are clearly relatively new, with their earliest mention coming in the reign of Wakatakiru, aka Yuryaku Tenno, in the late 5th century, about 100 years before,  and they had no clear spiritual center of note, at least in the Chronicles.  One source of their power and authority came through their connections with the continent, primarily with Baekje, and related families.  The other part was through their marriages, especially the daughters of Soga no Iname.  Up to this point, the descendants of Wohodo no Ohokimi, aka Keitai Tennō, had been ensuring that their queens were members of the previous dynasty.  This gave them and their offspring connections back to those other lineages helping bolster their claims to an unbroken lineage and their right to rule over Yamato.  While the sovereigns might marry daughters of other houses, those wouldn't typically be named as queens, although they might be expected to raise royal princes and maybe future queens.  Often these were political marriages that enhanced the court's connections to various regions.  A few particularly influential family names also appear, such as Katsuraki, Okinaga, and the Wani no Omi.  Still, the success of those families pales next to what Soga no Iname enjoyed in a single reign.  Soga no Iname had achieved what few others had.  He was the head of his family, one of the few of the Omi, or ministerial, kabane; and he had the personal title of Sukune, one of the highest honorifics attainable by an individual.  Both of those spoke to his power at court.  And when he passed away, he was succeeded in his post by his son, Soga no Umako, who was also made Ohoomi and who also held the honorific of Sukune.  Moreover, and perhaps more importantly, Soga no Iname married two of his daughters (Umako's sisters), Kitashi Hime and Wonane Gimi, to Ame Kunioshi, that is, Kimmei Tennou.  Both of them had a number of sons who were also royal princes.  And one of Kitashi Hime's daughters, Kashikiya Hime, then went on to marry Ame Kunioshi's son and successor (and her own half-brother), Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tennou – and when Nunakura's own wife passed on, he elevated Kashikiya Hime to the rank of queen. Long story short, the immediate children and grandchildren of Soga no Iname were in a great position.  Soga no Umako was a powerful person at court, and brother and uncle not just to a number of the royal princes of Ame Kuniyoshi's line, but to Nunakura's queen as well, which gave him some powerful sway.  We are also told that he had taken as his wife the younger sister of Mononobe no Moriya, likely as an attempt to bring the two families closer together.  Spoiler alert:  it didn't. All of those royal princes of Soga descent would not have been eligible for the throne under normal circumstances.  But here's where things get a little dicey.  Nunakura had been the son of Ame Kunioshi and Ishi Hime, who was, herself, the daugther of former sovereign Takewo Hiro Kunioshi.  Of course Takewo's mother had come from the Owari no Muraji, a sister clan to the Mononobe, but the Nihon Shoki glosses over that by claiming Takewo was just holding the throne until his more legitimate brother was ready.  Still, long story short, Nunakura was the direct descendant of at least two previous sovereigns, so one would imagine that he would be succeeded by his son, Hikobito no Ohine, son of Nunakura and his previous Queen, Hiro Hime.  And yet, Hikobito was probably relatively young, and besides Nunakura there were numerous other sons of Ame Kunioshi – conveniently, for the Soga, through his Soga descended wives.  One was Kashikiya Hime's brother, Tachibana no Toyohi, and there were also her half-brothers from her aunt, Wonane Gimi, including Princes Hasetsukabe Anahobe no Miko and Hatsusebe—or just Hasebe—no Miko.  Remember that there is no such thing at this point as primogeniture—it doesn't matter if you are the oldest son of the previous sovereign, and the throne commonly passed to brothers before it went to sons and nephews. Finally, there is Kashikiya Hime herself, niece of Soga no Umako and newly elevated queen of Nunakura.  While some women may have been content to simply raise the future generation of sovereigns, there is plenty to indicate that Kashikiya Hime was a highly political animal in her own right.  On top of that, although her grandfather had passed away, her uncle, Soga no Umako, had taken his place at one of the top spots in court.  She was around 34 years old when she became queen, and 42 when Nunakura passed away.  She knew the ins and outs of the court, and she seems to have favored her uncle and her Soga family. And so, when Nunakura, aka Bidatsu Tennou, died of plague, the stage was set for a political challenge – to determine just who will be the next sovereign, and more than that, which family – and even which branch of which family – will take the reins in directing matters on the archipelago going forward. Now, before we get much further, I have to warn you, the sources we have are clearly biased when it comes to the events they were recording.  I mention this because many of the stories in this highly dynamic period and I don't want to keep caveating everything all the time. So let me get a lot of it out of the way now, before we get into the really juicy bits.  This also goes for some of the stuff in the last few episodes as well.  While the Chronicles were built from records that survived into the 8th century it is clear that not every family is equally represented, and it is also clear that the Chroniclers, who knew the outcome, were massaging the narrative in certain ways.  And so we get a narrative of how the Mononobe were enemies of Buddhism, attempting to stop it from spreading and trying to protect the indigenous worship of the kami.  They were assisted in this by the Nakatomi, a family of court ritualists, who no doubt were also out to stop Buddhism's progress.  As for the sovereigns, Ame Kunioshi, and Nunakura, while they weren't necessarily Buddhist, they are portrayed as essentially neutral, going back and forth between the advice of their ministers as they fought, internally. Most of this comes from the Nihon Shoki.  The Sendai Kuji Hongi gives a much more abbreviated version of the actual history, and the Kojiki is pretty much focused just on the lineages at this point.  By that point, a lot had happened, and neither the Soga nor the Mononobe were necessarily running things anymore. Michael Como, in his book, “Shotoku”, suggests that, in all probability, Ame Kunioshi and Nunakura were likewise hostile to this new religion, and I think I can see that.  After all, they had to realize it was a threat to their own authority as the dedicated interpreters of the will of their ancestral kami.  It may be that the positions put forth by the Mononobe and the Nakatomi were, indeed, their actual thoughts on the matter, but it isn't as if the Mononobe just went ahead and destroyed the Soga temples—twice!—on their own.  They first made sure to get an order from the sovereign, an order that may not have taken much arm twisting to issue. Como and others also point out that there is a problem with another often overlooked aspect of the struggles as they are portrayed.  The typical narrative pits the “foreign” religion of Buddhism against the “indigenous” religion of the way of the kami—what would eventually be known as Shinto, but at this point really didn't have any particular name.  The usual way of telling this story is that native religionists were simply pushing back against a foreign incursion, and even though Buddhism would thrive in the Japanese archipelago, and even come to be another tool of the state, there was a certain conflict that always remained, due in large part to the ceremonial role that the sovereign was supposed to inhabit. The problem is that there is nothing that clearly indicates that the so-called indigenous religions were appreciably less foreign to the islands.  Even the earliest stories that were recorded in the Nihon Shoki, which depicts Japan as a special place, formed by the kami themselves, there are clear connections to the continent.  In some cases, like with Ame no Hiboko and Himegoso, we have deities coming over directly from the continent as princes and princesses of foreign lands.  In others, like with some of the stories of Susano'o, we see the kami coming down from Heaven and first setting foot in the world on the Korean peninsula.  Combined with a plethora of other clues, at the very least we can assume that the ways of the kami, including stories and rituals, were heavily influenced by continental thoughts and ideas, some of which may have arrived more than a century earlier.  On the other hand, the use of horizontal tomb chambers is a pretty clear archaeological change that we can see happening.  We first saw this tomb design back in the 5th century in Kyūshū, and in the 6th century it had spread across the archipelago, becoming the dominant form.  But how does that connect to continental influence on indigenous spiritual and religious practice? I think we can generally agree that tombs, beyond the practical idea of not allowing corpses to just sit around above ground, rotting and breeding disease, were largely concerned with what we consider religious concepts about the afterlife.  Sure, there is the political capital achieved by reminding everyone just who's in charge, but it is designed around the needs of the rituals surrounding the treatment of the deceased.  Hence the grave goods, as well as the clay, stone, or even wood pillars and statues erected around them.  So when the burials go from relatively simple pits, dug in the top of these massive burial mounds to more complex chambers of giant stone blocks, which show evidence of people using multiple times, then we can gather that something changed in the rituals surrounding death and the afterlife.  Those changes are reflected in the stories about the kami, including stories about Izanagi and Izanami, about Susano'o, and even about Amaterasu in the Heavenly Rock Cave, which all have imagery associated with this new kind of burial practice.  That suggests that these stories either originated in a time when the horizontal burial chambers were prevalent, or at least they were changed and updated as ritual life also changed. And most of these changes can be traced back to the continent.  We can see evidence, there, of horizontal stone chambers, and then trace that influence as it makes its way to Kyūshū and then the rest of the archipelago. This isn't to say that there weren't elements that were conceived of on the archipelago itself.  Certainly local traditions evolved to meet the needs of the people, but not without outside influence.  Even today, modern Shintō includes concepts from Daoism, geomancy, and general Yin-Yang theory, among other things, while retaining its own character. The point is that the argument that the resistance to Buddhism was purely because of is foreign nature seems laughably false, and yet that has been the view reinforced within the cultural imaginary of the Japanese for centuries, and it would go on to define the separate roles of Shintō and Buddhism in relation to the State for most of that time. As we look at what takes place, however, just keep in mind that this was much more about sheer, naked, political power, regardless of how later generations tried to make it look.  Also, it is unlikely that were any clear villains or heroes, either.  Real people are complex, and motivations are rarely straight forward. And with that, let's get back to the funeral of Nunakura.  The throne was empty, except for the presence of the Queen, Kashikiya Hime, who continued to reside in the palace presumably receiving guests and whatever the Yamato version of funeral potatoes was—probably some kind of dried fish. The succession at this point wasn't exactly clear.  Nunakura had a son, Hikobito, who was no doubt the heir presumptive, but there is nothing explicitly stating as much.  Ame Kunioshi had been quite prolific, and many of Nunakura's brothers or half brothers were still running around.  In addition, though unstated in the Chronicles, Hikobito was not the son of Kashikiya Hime, and so it remains unclear just how motivated she was to help him ascend the throne. The first to act to resolve this uncertainty was a Prince that was neither a direct sibling of Nunakura nor of Kashikiya Hime.  It was Hatsusekabe Anahobe no Miko.  Like Kashikiya Hime, he was a grandchild of the illustrious Soga no Iname, except that he descended through Iname's younger daughter, Wonane Gimi. Anahobe seemed to have clear designs on the throne.  He marched straight up to the Palace of interment, and demanded entry to see his half sister.  This was the location, it would seem, where Nunakura's body was lying in state, prior to burial.  However, given some of the accompanying statements, I suspect they may have been using Nunakura's own Palace for this purpose, and his queen, Kashikiya Hime, was likewise residing there, possibly out of loyalty and expectations, but also because where else was she to go on short notice? The steward in charge of the Palace at that time was a man by the name of Miwa no Kimi no Sakahe, also just known as Sakahe no Kimi.  He was suspicious of Anahobe, and his intentions.  After all, it wouldn't take much for Anahobe to force his way in, force himself on Nunakura's queen, claim they were married and therefore he deserved to rule.  It wouldn't be the first time that a sovereign had married the queen, out at least a consort or daughter, of the former ruler to strengthen their own claim.  Kashikiya was double prized as she was born the daughter of Ame Kunioshi and the Queen of Nunakura. Sakahe no Kimi want about to let that happen, however.  We are told that he had faithfully served the royal family up to that point, and it didn't look like he was about to just lay down now, not even for a prince of the blood. This pissed off Anahobe to no end.  He left, incensed, and started talking smack about Sakahe no Kimi to anyone who would listen.  In particular, he complained to the two Great Ministers, which I can only assume to mean Soga no Umako and Mononobe no Moriya, the Ohomi and Ohomuraji of the court.  He mentioned how, at the eulogy, Sakahe had said that the court of Nunakura would not be left desolate, and that he, Sakahe, would keep it pure as the surface of a mirror.  Who was he to make such a bold claim to be the defender of Nunakura's virtue, especially when there were so many total princes and the court Ministers themselves?  And on top of that, he had the temerity to deny Anahobe access to the Palace of interment seven times.  For such insolence, he demanded the authority to put Sakahe no Kimi to death.  They both agreed, and next thing you know, prince Anahobe grabbed a bunch of troops, along with Mononobe no Moriya, the King's Hand of the ancient Yamato Court, and put together a posse to go bring justice, in the form of a quick sword to the back of the neck, to Sakahe no Kimi. This was not exactly a quiet affair, however, and when the assembled forces of the aggrieved princes rolled up on the home of Sakahe no Kimi, in Ikenobe, in Iware, he had already split, hightailing it up Mt. Miwa.  He then climbed down in the night and made straightaway for Kashikiya Hime's country house in Tsubaki-ichi.  There he went to hide out and lay low, as Kashikiya Hime still had his back. However, it wasn't only the royal family that had some people with divided loyalties, and two of Sakahe's own relatives, Shiratsutsumi and Yokoyama, decided to turn him in, apparently trying to cozy up with Anahobe, whose star appeared to be on the rise. Knowing where Sakahe was hiding out, Anahobe and his brother, Hasebe, ordered Mononobe no Moriya to head out and treat Sakahe as though he were being played by none other than Sean Bean himself.  Not only that, they were to kill his sons as well, ending his direct line.  Moriya accepted this duty without hesitation, once again gathering a large force and setting out. I would point out at this point that Sakahe was clearly a close confidant of the previous sovereign, Nunakura, and he was seeking refuge at Queen Kashikiya Hime's summer cottage—we aren't told if she was there, or still at the palace of interment, but either way, Moriya's forces were moving against her property. As Soga no Umako heard about this, he quickly came to the conclusion that going after Sakahe, and invading the Queen's residence to do so, was one of those Really Bad Ideas.  Sure, he may have initially agreed to Sakahe being punished, because there was an order to things, and no doubt Sakahe's actions threatened that order—though it is also possible that the two “Chief Ministers” mentioned in the text were others, as nobody is specifically named, so it is possible he was just learning about this for the first time, but doubtful.  Still, he was now against it.  Perhaps it was the clear involvement of Kashikiya Hime, or maybe it was the thought of killing the innocent kids.  Or possibly Umako had come to realize the truth—that this was simply an excuse for Anahobe to take the throne for himself. Whatever the reason, Umako went to his nephew Anahobe and pleaded with him not to go out with Moriya.  He suggested that, at the very least, it would be unseemly for him to go himself.  Anahobe was determined, however, and so he headed out to meet Mononobe no Moriya and to see to Sakahe's end, personally. Here the Chronicles diverge, giving us two slightly different accounts.  In one story, Umako tagged along, and eventually he was able to persuade Anahobe not to go himself, and Anahobe finally relented.  However, shortly thereafter, Moriya returned with news that he had executed Sakahe no Kimi and the others. In the other account, it is Anahobe himself who ended Sakahe no Kimi and his line, demonstrating that he was not afraid to get his hands dirty. Either way, Soga no Umako realized that this was not the end of it, and that there would likely be more violence.  He was clearly upset that Anahobe hadn't listened to him to call the whole thing off, and Kashikiya Hime, well, I think we can see why she may not have been happy.  The Chronicles say they both conceived enmity against Prince Anahobe, even though he was their nephew and cousin, respectively. Now this was all happening shortly after Nunakura's death—Nunakura died in 585, and this is all taking place between then and late 586 – and clearly it's related to a question of succession.  However, the Chronicles try to claim that there was, in fact, a sitting sovereign at that time.  That honor went to none other than Kashikiya Hime's own full brother, Tachibana no Toyohi, aka Youmei Tennou.  So given what we've discussed about Anahobe's antics in trying to marry Kashikiya, what's up with that, and where did Toyohi come from? Why Toyohi was selected, or even how he was selected, is a bit strange.  We are told that he was the fourth child of Ame Kunioshi, and as I mentioned, he was the full brother of Kashikiya Hime, making him a son of Kitashi Hime and a grandson of Soga no Iname.  We are also told that he believed in the Law of the Buddha and also Revered the Way of the Kami.  Finally, we are told that his capital was set in Iware—specifically at the Ikenobe no Namitsuki no Miya.  If that sounds familiar, it is because Ikenobe, in Iware, was also the location of our Sean Bean stand-in, Miwa no Kimi no Sakahe's, house as well—a strange coincidence in a tumultuous time. Toyohi wasn't long on the throne.  During the feast of first fruits, the Niinamesai, which was performed on a riverbank in Iware, Toyohi took ill.  The Niinamesai is typically observed on or about the 23rd day of the 11th month of the old lunisolar calendar, which could have been as late as December or even early January, meaning that it was likely cold, and possibly even cold and wet, especially along a riverbank.  It brings to mind the story of US President William Henry Harrison, who gave his inaugural address on a cold and wet day, and ended up catching pneumonia weeks later, passing away shortly thereafter.  In a similar vein, Toyohi's illness grew worse and worse, and so he requested that he be able to give worship to the Three Precious Things, which is to say Buddhism, likely hoping that worshipping the Buddha would cure him.  Obviously, Soga no Umako was in favor of this, having tried to get his own temple started in the previous reign, but both Mononobe no Moriya and Nakatomi no Katsumi both opposed it, claiming he would be turning his back on the kami of the Japanese archipelago.  It was déjà vu all over again. The tie breaker in this case came from what might seem an unusual source.  It was Prince Anahobe himself who found a priest and brought him to his elder half-brother's side.  The records simply state that it was Toyohi's “younger brother”, but a note in the Nihon Shoki explains that Prince Anahobe is assumed to be the one they mean.  This is bolstered, somewhat, by the fact that Toyohi is said to have been married to *Princess* Hasetsukabe Anahobe no Himemiko.  That's right, Toyohi had married Anahobe's sister, which may have also made them closer than even normal bonds of kinship would account for.  Thus, whatever designs Anahobe had on the throne seem to have been overcome by his desire to help his half-brother, an apparently touching moment. Unfortunately, it didn't help.  Toyohi grew worse and worse and eventually it was clear that he wasn't going to make it.  Kuratsukuri Be no Tasuna, a son of Shiba Tattou, offered to become a monk on Toyohi's behalf and help make merit for him.  Shiba Tattou had been the one to help Soga no Umako with his first attempt at setting up a temple, including having his daughter ordained as a nun, so this seems rather on brand for him.  It is interesting that Tasuna is mentioned as a member of the Kuratsukuri Be, however—the guild of saddle makers.  Once again, related to horses and thus back to Baekje and the continent. Tasuna offered to make a Buddha image that was about 16 feet high, and to build a temple.  The Chronicles say that this temple, along with its attendant Boddhisatvas, was still around several centuries later at the temple of Sakata in Minabuchi, which would appear to place it in the region of Asuka, the Soga family stronghold. Toyohi's reign was extremely short—assuming, of course, that he reigned at all.  As we've already discussed with Anahobe's Game of Thrones antics, it seems like things were generally still up in the air, though it is quite possible that since Toyohi was Kashikiya Hime's full brother, she deferred to him and helped him take the throne as everything else was going on.  It is just as likely, though, that the Chroniclers needed someone to fill the space, and he fit the bill.  There are a couple of things that suggest this interpretation.  First off are his offspring, specifically two.  One was Nukade Hime, who he made the Ise Princess, which is to say the Royal Princess, or Himemiko, who was assigned to the shrine of Amaterasu in Ise.  There is some question about the actual importance of Ise at this point, but there wouldn't be by the 8th century, and so to the Chroniclers this would have been an important point to make, even though there is some scholarly thought that Ise really wasn't that big of a deal until around the time of the Temmu dynasty. The other child of Tachibana no Toyohi is very important – someone we've touched on briefly, and I'll probably go into a whole episode on in not too much longer:  Prince Umayado.  Aka the Prince of the Kamitsu Palace, or Kamitsumiya.  He's better known as Shotoku Taishi, and he holds a special place in Japan's cultural identity about itself and Buddhism. For anyone who hasn't heard of Shotoku Taishi, I'll try to break it down quickly.  As I said, we need to do at least one episode on him at some point.  “Shotoku Taishi” is the single individual most credited with spreading Buddhism in Japan – the most mentioned, though he wasn't the first.  The problem is that this means there are a lot of stories around him and his accomplishments, such that it is hard to pull out fact from fiction.  Much like Yamato Takeru, Shotoku Taishi's legend had already grown by the time the Nihon Shoki was being written, to the point that different temples were almost fighting over who got to write the narratives about him and whose stories were taken as factual.  Think about George Washington chopping down the cherry tree and you get the picture of the kinds of cultural imaginaries that get attached to Prince Shotoku. And so it is little wonder that this very important figure's father, Tachibana no Toyohi, gets credited with at least a few years on the throne, whether or not he ever actually sat as the ruler.  It provides even that much more legitimacy to Prince Umayado's later accomplishments—or at least the accomplishments that were attributed to him.  It also might explain why Toyohi's own story centers so much on his belief in Buddhism as well.  There is a point made of talking about the fact that Toyohi believed in Buddhism, and he is the first sovereign we have to actively seek out the worship of Buddhism.  Once again, it is hard to know if he was truly sovereign—I tend to feel like this whole period was one of the periods where the court couldn't initially get united behind a single person, and what we are seeing is more after-the-fact ascensions to boost the lineage.  But the dispute over Buddhism is clearly the centerpiece here for something much greater. But we haven't gone full family-on-family war yet, which brings us back to Mononobe no Moriya.  He was clearly not happy about the whole situation with the sovereign ignoring his advice and performing more Buddhist worship, and it didn't help that the powerful prince Anahobe had stepped in on the side of the pro-Buddhist faction.  They had just been out murdering people together, and now Anahobe turned his back on him.  Moriya likely felt tossed aside. I've seen some suggestion that the Mononobe house and the Soga house at this time were equals.  Sure, the Nihon Shoki uses the “Omi” and “Muraji” kabane, with “Omi” having a distinctly more prominent feel, but it is possible that the two families were actually of equal rank. There's the fact that the text at one time references “The Two Oho-omi”, which is generally taken to just mean the two “Chief Ministers”, Umako and Moriya, but which could also be seen as acknowledging that Moriya stood on equal footing with Umako.  There is also a note in the Sendai Kuji Hongi that suggests that Moriya was made both Ohomuraji—that is, head of the house—and also a high Minister, or Omi.  It is unclear what this means, but probably similarly placed him on equal footing with Umako. Certainly in the discussions up to this point, the Mononobe often had the favor of the court over the wishes of the Soga, especially when it came to burning down their Buddhist establishments. Now, however, the Soga were clearly ascendant.  The grandsons of Soga no Iname were Royal Princes, and that shifted the power dynamics.  Even Anahobe was a Soga descendant.  It is easy to see how Moriya was likely feeling isolated and even belittled by the court.  Enter Iago… I mean Oshisakabe no Kekuso, who bent Moriya's ear and convinced him that all of the other ministers were now plotting against him.  More than that, they were about to ambush him and take him out of the picture altogether. And was that so strange?  Hadn't something similar just happened with Sakahe no Kimi when the powerful people of the court found him too troublesome?  Moriya himself had helped carry that out and bring it about.  This was not exactly a time where one was innocent until proven guilty, and if you wanted someone out of the picture, well, it was hard for them to tell their story from inside a massive burial mound.  This was a dangerous time to be on the political outs. And so we are told that Mononobe no Moriya retired.  He left the court and went to Ato, where he had his own country-house.  This would have been in a Mononobe stronghold.  It is often thought to have meant somewhere on the Kawachi plain, around Yao, on southeastern edge of the modern metropolis of Ohosaka, and outside of the Nara Basin.  There he gathered a force of troops around him, presumably for his own protection.  Allies, such as Nakatomi no Katsumi, came to his aid. As Umako had predicted, this whole thing was not going to end well.  The two most powerful ministers at court had been feuding since the death of the previous sovereign.  They had broken on policy, on religion, and even on threats to the throne. And now one of them had holed up in their own stronghold and was building an army.  Meanwhile you still had a bunch of princes running around, all of them possibly eligible to ascend and take the throne of Yamato for themselves.   The storm clouds of war had gathered, and people were taking sides.  Whatever happened, its clear that it would have momentous consequences for everyone involved—at least, if they lived to see it through. Until next time, thank you for listening and for all of your support.  If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

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

This episode we look at some of the physical evidence from this period.  In particular, since we are talking about the sovereign known as Ankan Tenno, we will look at a glass bowl, said to have come from his tomb, which appears to have made its way all the way from Sassanid Persia to Japan between the 5th and 6th centuries CE.  Along the way we'll take a brief look at the route that such an item may have taken to travel across the Eurasian continent all the way to Japan. For more on this episode, check out https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-79 Rough Transcript: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is Episode 79:  Ankan's Glass Bowl. We are currently in the early part of the 6th century.  Last episode was our New Year's wrapup, but just before that we talked about the reign of Magari no Ōye, aka Ohine, aka Ankan Tennō.   According to the Chronicles, he was the eldest son of Wohodo, aka Keitai Tennō, coming to the throne in 534.  For all of the various Miyake, or Royal Grannaries, that he granted, his reign only lasted about two years, coming to an unfortunate end in the 12th month of 535.  The Chronicles claim that Ohine was 70 years old when he died, which would seem to indicate he was born when his father, Wohodo, was only 13 years of age.  That seems rather young, but not impossibly so. It is said that Ankan Tennō was buried on the hill of Takaya, in the area of Furuichi.  And that is where my personal interest in him and his short reign might end, if not for a glass bowl that caught my eye in the Tokyo National Museum. Specifically, it was the Heiseikan, which is where the Tokyo National Museum hosts special exhibitions, but it also hosts a regular exhibition on Japanese archaeology.  In fact, if you ever get the chance, I highly recommend checking it out.  I mean, let's be honest, the Tokyo National Museum is one of my favorite places to visit when I'm in Tokyo.  I think there is always something new—or at least something old that I find I'm taking a second look at. The Japanese archaeology section of the Heiseikan covers from the earliest stone tools through the Jomon, Yayoi, Kofun, and up to about the Nara period.  They have originals or replicas of many items that we've talked about on the podcast, including the gold seal of King Na of Wa, the Suda Hachiman mirror, and the swords from Eta Funayama and Inariyama kofun, which mention Wakatakiru no Ōkimi, generally thought to be the sovereign known as Yuuryaku Tennō.  They also have one of the large iron tate, or shields, on loan from Isonokami Shrine, and lots of bronze mirrors and various types of haniwa. Amongst this treasure trove of archaeological artifacts, one thing caught my eye from early on.  It is a small, glass bowl, round in shape, impressed throughout with a series of round indentations, almost like a giant golf ball.  Dark brown streaks crisscross the bowl, where it has been broken and put back together at some point in the past.  According to the placard, this Juuyo Bunkazai, or Important Cultural Property, is dated to about the 6th century, was produced somewhere in West Asia, and it is said to have come from the tomb of none other than Ankan Tennō himself. This has always intrigued me.  First and foremost there is the question of provenance—while there are plenty of tombs that have been opened over the years, generally speaking the tombs of the imperial family, especially those identified as belonging to reigning sovereigns, have been off limits to most archaeological investigations.  So how is it that we have artifacts identified with the tomb of Ankan Tennō, if that is the case? The second question, which almost trumps the first, is just how did a glass bowl from west Asia make it all the way to Japan in the 6th century?  Of course, Japan and northeast Asia in general were not strangers to glassmaking—glass beads have a long history both on the Korean peninsula and in the archipelago, including the molds used to make them.  However, it is one thing to melt glass and pour it into molds, similar to working with cast bronze.  These bowls, however, appear to be something different.  They were definitely foreign, and, as we shall see, they had made quite the journey. So let's take a look and see if we can't answer both of these questions, and maybe learn a little bit more about the world of 6th century Japan along the way. To start with, let's look at the provenance of this glass bowl.  Provenance is important—there are numerous stories of famous “finds” that turned out to be fakes, or else items planted by someone who wanted to get their name out there.  Archaeology—and its close cousin, paleontology—can get extremely competitive, and if you don't believe me just look up the Bone Wars of the late 19th century.  Other names that come to mind:  The infamous Piltdown man, the Cardiff Giant, and someone we mentioned in one of our first episodes, Fujimura Shin'ichi, who was accused of salting digs to try to claim human habitation in Japan going back hundreds of thousands of years. This is further complicated by the fact that, in many cases, the situation behind a given find is not necessarily well documented.  There are Edo period examples of Jomon pottery, or haniwa, that were found, but whose actual origins have been lost to time.  Then there are things like the seal of King Na of Wa, which is said to have been discovered by a farmer, devoid of the context that would help to otherwise clear the questions that continue to surround such an object.  On top of this, there are plenty of tombs that have been worn down over the ages—where wind and water have eroded the soil, leaving only the giant stone bones, or perhaps washing burial goods into nearby fields or otherwise displacing them. So what is the story with the tomb of Ankan Tennō, and this glass bowl? To answer this, let's first look at the tomb attributed to Ankan Tennō.  The Nihon Shoki tells us in the 8th century that this tomb was located at Takaya, in the area of Furuichi.  This claim is later repeated by the Engi Shiki in the 10th century.  Theoretically, the compilers of both of these works had some idea of where this was, but in the hundreds of years since then, a lot has happened.  Japan has seen numerous governments, as well as war, famine, natural disaster, and more.  At one point, members of the royal household were selling off calligraphy just to pay for the upkeep of the court, and while the giant kofun no doubt continued to be prominent features for locals in the surrounding areas, the civilian and military governments of the intervening centuries had little to no budget to spare for their upkeep.  Records were lost, as were many details. Towards the end of the Edo period, and into the early Meiji, a resurgence in interest in the royal, or Imperial, family and their ancient mausoleums caused people to investigate the texts and attempt to identify mausoleums for each of the sovereigns, as well as other notable figures, in the Kojiki and the Nihon Shoki.  Given that many of those figures are likely fictional or legendary individuals, one can see how this may be problematic.  And yet, the list that eventually emerged has become the current list of kofun protected by the Imperial Household Agency as imperial mausolea. Based on what we know, today, some of these official associations seem obviously questionable.  Some of them, for instance, are not even keyhole shaped tombs—for instance, some are circular, or round tombs, where the claim is often made that the other parts of the tomb were eroded or washed away.  Still others engender their own controversy, such as who, exactly, is buried in Daisen-ryō, the largest kofun, claimed to be the resting place of Ōsazaki no Mikoto, aka Nintoku Tennō.  Some people, however, claim that it is actually the sovereign Woasatsuma Wakugo, aka Ingyō Tennō, who is buried there, instead.  What is the truth?  Well, without opening up the main tomb, who is to say, and even then it is possible that any evidence may have already been lost to the acidic soils of the archipelago, which are hardly kind to organic matter. By the way, quick divergence, here—if you look up information on Daisen-ryō, aka Daisen Kofun, you may notice that there are drawings of a grave, including a coffin, associated with it.  That might get you thinking, as I did at one point, that Daisen kofun had already been opened, but it turns out that was a grave on the slopes of the square end of the kofun, and not from the main, circular burial mound.  Theoretically this may have been an important consort, or perhaps offspring or close relative of the main individual interred in the kofun, but most likely it is not for the person for whom the giant mound was actually erected.  So, yes, Daisen kofun remains unopened, at least as far as we know. As for the kofun identified for Ankan Tennō, today that is the tomb known as Furuichi Tsukiyama Kofun, aka Takaya Tsukiyama Kofun.  While the connection to Ankan Tennō may be somewhat unclear, the kofun has had its own colorful history, in a way.  Now most of the reports I could find, from about '92 up to 2022, place this kofun, which is a keyhole shaped kofun, in the correct time period—about the early to mid-6th century, matching up nicely with a 534 to 535 date for the reign given to Ankan Tennō.  But what is fascinating is the history around the 15th to 16th centuries.  It was just after the Ounin War, in 1479, when Hatakeyama Yoshihiro decided to build a castle here, placing the honmaru, the main enclosure, around the kofun, apparently incorporating the kofun and its moats into the castle design.  The castle, known as Takaya Castle, would eventually fall to Oda Nobunaga's forces in 1575, and most of the surrounding area was burned down in the fighting, bringing the kofun's life as a castle to an end. Some of the old earthworks still exist, however, and excavations in the area have helped determine the shape of the old castle, though there still have not been any fulsome excavations of the mound that I have found.  This makes sense as the kofun is designated as belonging to a member of the imperial lineage. There are, however, other keyhole shaped kofun from around the early 6th century that are also found in the same area, which also could be considered royal mausolea, and would seem to fit the bill just as well as this particular tomb.  In addition, there are details in the Chronicles, such as the fact that Magari no Ohine, aka Ankan Tennō, was supposedly buried with his wife and his younger sister.  This is, however, contradicted by records like the 10th century Engi Shiki, where two tombs are identified, one for Ankan Tennō and one for his wife, Kasuga no Yamada, so either the Chronicles got it wrong, or there were already problems with tomb identification just two centuries later.  So we still aren't entirely sure that this is Ankan Tennō's tomb. But at least we know that the glass bowl came from a 6th century kingly tomb, even if that tomb was only later identified as belonging to Ankan Tennō, right? Well, not so fast. The provenance on the bowl is a bit more tricky than that.  You see, the bowl itself came to light in 1950, when a private individual in Fuse, Ōsaka invited visiting scholar Ishida Mosaku to take a look.  According to his report at the time, the bowl was in a black lacquered box and wrapped in a special cloth, with a written inscription that indicated that the bowl had been donated to a temple in Furuichi named Sairin-ji. There are documents from the late Edo period indicating that various items were donated to Sairin-ji temple between the 16th to the 18th centuries, including quote-unquote “utensils” said to have been washed out of the tomb believed to be that of Ankan Tennō.  Ishida Mosaku and other scholars immediately connected this glass bowl with one or more of those accounts.  They were encouraged by the fact that there is a similar bowl found in the Shōsōin, an 8th century repository at Tōdai-ji temple, in Nara, which houses numerous artifacts donated on behalf of Shōmu Tennō.  Despite the gulf of time between them—two hundred years between the 6th and 8th centuries—this was explained away in the same way that Han dynasty mirrors, made in about the 3rd century, continued to show up in burials for many hundreds of years afterwards, likewise passed down as familial heirlooms. Still, the method of its discovery, the paucity of direct evidence, and the lack of any direct connection with where it came from leaves us wondering—did this bowl really come from the tomb of Ankan Tennō?  Even moreso, did it come from a 6th century tomb at all?  Could it not have come from some other tomb? We could tie ourselves up in knots around this question, and I would note that if you look carefully at the Tokyo National Museum's own accounting of the object they do mention that it is quote-unquote “possibly” from the tomb of Ankan Tennō. What does seem clear, however, is that its manufacture was not in Japan.  Indeed, however it came to our small group of islands on the northeastern edge of the Eurasian continent, it had quite the journey, because it does appear to be genuinely from the Middle East—specifically from around the time of the Sassanian or Sassanid empire, the first Iranian empire, centered on the area of modern Iran. And it isn't the only one.  First off, of course, there is the 8th century bowl in the Shousoin I just mentioned, but there are also examples of broken glass found on Okinoshima, an island deep in the middle of the strait between Kyushu and the Korean peninsula, which has a long history as a sacred site, mentioned in the Nihon Shoki, and attached to the Munakata shrine in modern Fukuoka.  Both Okinoshima and the Shōsōin—at least as part of the larger Nara cultural area—are on the UNESCO register of World Heritage sites, along with the Mozu-Furuichi kofun group, of which the Takaya Tsukiyama kofun is one.. Okinoshima is a literal treasure trove for archaeologists. However, its location and status have made it difficult to fully explore.  The island is still an active sacred site, and so investigations are balanced with respect for local tradition.  The lone occupant of the island is a Shinto priest, one of about two dozen who rotate spending 10 days out at the island, tending the sacred site.  Women are still not allowed, and for centuries, one day a year they allowed up to 200 men on the island after they had purified themselves in the ocean around the island.  Since then, they have also opened up to researchers, as well as military and media, at least in some instances. The island is apparently littered with offerings.  Investigations have demonstrated that this island has been in use since at least the 4th century.  As a sacred site, guarding the strait between Kyushu and the Korean peninsula, fishermen and sailors of all kinds would make journeys to the island and leave offerings of one kind or another, and many of them are still there: clay vessels, swords, iron ingots, bronze mirrors, and more.  The island's location, which really is in the middle of the straits, and not truly convenient to any of the regular trading routes, means that it has never really been much of a strategic site, just a religious one, and one that had various religious taboos, so it hasn't undergone the centuries of farming and building that have occurred elsewhere. Offerings are scattered in various places, often scattered around or under boulders and large rocks that were perhaps seen as particularly worthy of devotion.  Since researchers have been allowed in, over 80,000 treasures have been found and catalogued.  Among those artifacts that have been brought back is glass, including glass from Sassanid Persia.  Pieces of broken glass bowls, like the one said to have come from Ankan's tomb, as well as what appear to be beads made from broken glass pieces, have been recovered over the years, once more indicating their presence in the trade routes to the mainland, although when, exactly, they came over can be a little more difficult to place. That might be helped by two other glass artifacts, also found in the archaeological exhibit of the Heiseikan in the Tokyo National Museum: a glass bowl and dish discovered at Niizawa Senzuka kofun Number 126, in Kashihara city, in Nara. This burial is believed to date to the latter half of the 5th century, and included an iron sword, numerous gold fittings and jewelry, and even an ancient clothes iron, which at the time looked like a small frying pan, where you could put hot coals or similar items in the pan and use the flat bottom to help iron out wrinkles in cloth.  Alongside all of this were also discovered two glass vessels.  One was a dark, cobalt-blue plate, with a stand and very shallow conical shape.  The other was a round glass bowl with an outwardly flared lip.  Around the smooth sides, the glass has been marked with three rows of circular dots that go all the way around, not dissimilar from the indentations in the Ankan and Shōsōin glass bowls. All of these, again, are believed to have come from Sassanid Persia, modern Iran, and regardless of the provenance of the Ankan bowl, it seems that we have clear evidence that Sassanian glassworks were making their way to Japan.  But how?  How did something like glass—hardly known for being the most robust of materials—make it all the way from Sassanid Persia to Yamato between the 5th and 8th centuries? To start with, let's look at Sassanid Persia and its glass. Sassanid Persia—aka Sassanid or Sassanian Iran—is the name given to the empire that replaced the Parthian empire, and is generally agreed to have been founded sometime in the early 3rd century.  The name “Sassanid” refers to the legendary dynastic founder, Sassan, though the first historical sovereign appears to be Ardeshir I, who helped put the empire on the map. Ardeshir I called his empire “Eran sahr”, and it is often known as an Iranian or Persian empire, based on their ties to Pars and the use of the Middle Persian, or Farsi, language.   For those not already well aware, Farsi is one of several Iranian languages, though over the years many of the various Iranian speaking peoples would often be classified as “Persian” in English literature.  That said, there is quite a diversity of Iranian languages and people who speak them, including Farsi, Pashto, Dari, Tajik, and the ancient Sogdian language, which I'm sure we'll touch on more given their importance in the ancient silk road trade.  Because of the ease with which historical “Iranian” ethnic groups can be conflated with the modern state, I am going to largely stick with the term Persian, here, but just be aware that the two words are often, though not always, interchangeable. The Sassanid dynasty claimed a link to the older Achaemenid dynasty, and over the subsequent five centuries of their rule they extended their borders, dominating the area between the Caspian Sea and the Persian Gulf, eastward to much of modern Afghanistan and Pakistan, running right up to the Hindu Kush and the Pamir mountains.  They held sway over much of Central Asia, including the area of Transoxiana.  With that they had access to both the sea routes, south of India and the overland routes through the Tianshan mountains and the northern and southern routes around the great Taklamakan desert – so, basically, any trade passing between Central and East Asia would pass through Sassanid territory. The Persian empire of the Sassanids was pre-Islamic—Islamic Arab armies would not arrive until about the 7th century, eventually bringing an end to the Sassanid dynasty.  Until that point, the Persian empire was largely Zoroastrian, an Iranian religion based around fire temples, restored after the defeat of the Parthians, where eternal flames were kept burning day and night as part of their ritual practice.  The Sassanids inherited a Persian culture in an area that had been dominated by the Parthians, and before that the Hellenistic Seleucids, and their western edge bordered with the Roman empire.  Rome's establishment in the first century BCE coincided with the invention of glassblowing techniques, and by the time of the Sassanid Empire these techniques seem to have been well established in the region. Sassanid glass decorated with patterns of ground, cut, and polished hollow facets—much like what we see in the examples known in the Japanese islands—comes from about the 5th century onward.  Prior to that, the Sassanian taste seems to have been for slightly less extravagant vessels, with straight or slightly rounded walls. Sassanid glass was dispersed in many different directions along their many trade routes across the Eurasian continent, and archaeologists have been able to identify glass from this region not just by its shape, but by the various physical properties based on the formulas and various raw materials used to make the glass. As for the trip to Japan, this was most likely through the overland routes.  And so the glass would have been sold to merchants who would take it up through Transoxiana, through passes between the Pamirs and the Tianshan mountains, and then through a series of oasis towns and city-states until it reached Dunhuang, on the edge of the ethnic Han sphere of influence. For a majority of this route, the glass was likely carried by Sogdians, another Iranian speaking people from the region of Transoxiana.  Often simply lumped in with the rest of the Iranian speaking world as “Persians”, Sogdians had their own cultural identity, and the area of Sogdia is known to have existed since at least the ancient Achaemenid dynasty.  From the 4th to the 8th century, Sogdian traders plied the sands of Central Eurasia, setting up a network of communities along what would come to be known as the Silk Road. It is along this route that the glassware, likely packed in straw or some other protective material, was carried on the backs of horses, camels, and people along a journey of several thousand kilometers, eventually coming to the fractious edge of the ethnic Han sphere.  Whether it was these same Sogdian traders that then made their way to the ocean and upon boats out to the Japanese islands is unknown, but it is not hard imagining crates being transferred from merchant to merchant, east, to the Korean Peninsula, and eventually across the sea. The overland route from Sogdia is one of the more well-known—and well-worn—routes on what we modernly know as the Silk Road, and it's very much worth taking the time here to give a brief history of how this conduit between Western Asia/Europe and Eastern Asia developed over the centuries.  One of the main crossroads of this area is the Tarim Basin, the area that, today, forms much of Western China, with the Tianshan mountains in the north and the Kunlun Mountains, on the edge of the Tibetan plateau, to the south.  In between is a large desert, the Taklamakan desert, which may have once been a vast inland sea.  Even by the Han dynasty, a vast saltwater body known as the Puchang Sea existed in its easternmost regions.  Comparable to some of the largest of the Great Lakes, and fed by glacial run-off, the lake eventually dwindled to become the salt-marshes around Lop Nur.  And yet, researchers still find prominent boat burials out in what otherwise seems to be the middle of the desert. Around the Tarim basin were various cultures, often centered on oases at the base of the mountains.  Runoff from melting ice and snow in the mountains meant a regular supply of water, and by following the mountains one could navigate from watering hole to watering hole, creating a natural roadway through the arid lands.  In the middle of the Basin, however, is the great Taklamakan desert, and even during the Han dynasty it was a formidable and almost unpassable wasteland.  One could wander the sands for days or weeks with no water and no indication of direction other than the punishing sun overhead.  It is hardly a nice place and remains largely unpopulated, even today. While there were various cultures and city-states around the oasis towns, the first major power that we know held sway, at least over the northern route, were the Xiongnu.  Based in the area of modern Mongolia, the Xiongnu swept down during the Qin and early Han dynasties, displacing or conquering various people. An early exploration of the Tarim basin and its surroundings was conducted by the Han dynasty diplomat, Zhang Qian.  Zhang Qian secretly entered Xiongnu territory with the goal of reaching the Yuezhi—a nomadic group that had been one of those displaced by the Xiongnu.  The Yuezhi had been kicked out of their lands in the Gansu region and moved all the way to the Ferghana valley, in modern Tajikistan, a part of the region known as Transoxiana.  Although Zhang Qian was captured and spent 10 years in service to the Xiongnu, he never forgot his mission and eventually made his way to the Yuezhi.  By that time, however, the Yuezhi had settled in to their new life, and they weren't looking for revenge. While Zhang Qian's news may have been somewhat disappointing for the Han court, what was perhaps more important was the intelligence he brought back concerning the routes through the Tarim basin, and the various people there, as well as lands beyond.  The Han dynasty continued to assert itself in the area they called the “Western Regions”, and General Ban Chao would eventually be sent to defeat the Xiongnu and loosen their hold in the region, opening up the area all the way to modern Kashgar.  Ban Chao would even send an emissary, Gan Ying, to try to make the journey all the way to the Roman empire, known to the Han court as “Daqin”, using the name of the former Qin dynasty as a sign of respect for what they had heard.  However, Gan Ying only made it as far as the land of Anxi—the name given to Parthia—where he was told that to make it to Rome, or Daqin, would require crossing the ocean on a voyage that could take months or even years.  Hearing this, Gan Ying decided to turn back and report on what he knew. Of course if he actually made it to the Persian Gulf—or even to the Black Sea, as some claim—Gan Ying would have been much closer to Rome than the accounts lead us to believe. It is generally thought that he was being deliberately mislead by Parthian merchants who felt they might be cut out if Rome and the Han Dynasty formed more direct relations.  Silks from East Asia, along with other products, were already a lucrative opportunity for middlemen across the trade routes, and nobody wanted to be cut out of that position if they could help it. That said, the Parthians and, following them the Sassanid Persians, continued to maintain relationships with dynasties at the other end of what we know as the Silk Road, at least when they could.  The Sassanid Persians, when they came to power, were known to the various northern and southern dynasties as Bosi—possibly pronounced something like Puasie, at the time, no doubt their attempt to render the term “Parsi”.  We know of numerous missions in both directions between various dynasties, and Sassanian coins are regularly found the south of modern China. And so we can see that even in the first and second centuries, Eurasia was much more connected than one might otherwise believe.  Goods would travel from oasis town to oasis town, and be sold in markets, where they might just be picked up by another merchant.  Starting in the fourth century, the Sogdian merchants began to really make their own presence known along these trade routes.  They would set up enclaves in various towns, and merchants would travel from Sogdian enclave to Sogdian enclave with letters of recommendation, as well as personal letters for members of the community, setting up their own early postal service.  This allowed the Sogdian traders to coordinate activities and kept them abreast of the latest news.     I'm not sure we have a clear indication how long this trip would take.  Theoretically, one could travel from Kashgar to Xi'an and back in well under a year, if one were properly motivated and provisioned—it is roughly 4,000 kilometers, and travel would have likely been broken up with long stays to rest and refresh at the various towns along the way. I've personally had the opportunity to travel from Kashgar to Turpan, though granted it was in the comfort of an air conditioned bus.  Still, having seen the modern conditions, the trip would be grueling, but not impossible back in the day, and if the profits were lucrative enough, then why not do it—it is not dissimilar to the adventurers from Europe in the 16th century who went out to sea to find their own fortunes.  And so the glass bowl likely made its way through the markets of the Tarim basin, to the markets of various capitals in the Yellow River or Yangzi regions—depending on who was in charge in any given year—and eventually made its way to the Korean peninsula and from there to a ship across the Korean strait. Of course, those ships weren't simply holding a single glass vessel.  Likely they were laden with a wide variety of goods.  Some things, such as fabric, incense, and other more biodegradable products would not be as likely to remain, and even glass breaks and oxidizes, and metal rusts away.  Furthermore, many of the goods had likely been picked over by the time any shipments arrived in the islands, making things such as these glass bowls even more rare and scarce. Still, this bowl, whether it belonged to Ankan or not, tells us a story.  It is the story of a much larger world, well beyond the Japanese archipelago, and one that will be encroaching more and more as we continue to explore this period.  Because it wasn't just physical goods that were being transported along the Silk Road.  The travelers also carried with them news and new ideas.  One of these ideas was a series of teachings that came out of India and arrived in China during the Han dynasty, known as Buddhism.  It would take until the 6th century, but Buddhism would eventually make its way to Japan, the end of the Silk Road. But that is for another episode.  For now, I think we'll close out our story of Ankan and his glass bowl.  I hope you've enjoyed this little diversion, and from here we'll continue on with our narrative as we edge closer and closer to the formal introduction of Buddhism and the era known as the Asuka Period. Until then, thank you for listening and for all of your support.  If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.      

こんにちは。 ジェニのピカピカ日本語へようこそ。 The Winter Olympics have started. What events are you paying attention to? I hope that all the athletes who have been working hard for this day will be able to show the results of their daily efforts to the fullest. Today, I would like to introduce you to Japan's National Foundation Day. Many countries around the world have their own national day to celebrate, but in the case of Japan, the date of its founding is not clear. Therefore, the Meiji government 明治政府 decided to make February 11, the accession day of Emperor Jinmu 神武天皇, the first emperor according to the Kojiki古事記 and Nihonshoki日本書紀, a national holiday as the equivalent day of Emperor Jinmu's accession to the throne, and designated it as Kigen-setsu紀元節. However, it was removed by the U.S. military after World War II. In 1966, it was added to the list of national holidays, and from February 11, 1967, it was designated as "National Foundation Day 建国記念の日” as a day to commemorate the founding of the nation. Thank you for listening to Jeny No Pika Pika Nihongo today. Please follow me. And look forward to our Japanese learning package. Have a great day! 冬のオリンピックが始まりましたね。 あなたはどんな競技に注目していますか？ この日を目指して頑張ってきたアスリートの皆さんは、日頃の成果を存分に発揮して欲しいですね。 さて、今日は日本の建国記念の日についてご紹介いたします。 世界の多くの国で建国記念の日を定めお祝いいたしますが、日本の場合建国の日が明確ではありません。 そこで明治政府は古事記や日本書紀で初代天皇とされる神武天皇の即位日2月11日を神武天皇即位の相当日として祝日にし、紀元節と定められましたが、第二次世界大戦後に米軍により削除されました。 それが1966年に国民の祝日に加えられ、1967年2月11日から建国をしのぶ日として「建国記念の日」が定められました。 神武天皇 Jinmu Tennnou 紀元節 Kigensetsu 天皇 Tennozu 将軍 Shogun 幕府 Bakufu 今日もジェニのピカピカ日本語を聞いていただきありがとうございました。 ぜひ、フォローしてくださいね。 そして、日本語学習パッケージをお楽しみに。 では良い一日をお過ごしください。

Grab that tanuki suit and fly with us into the land of the Kami, Yokai and Oni as we discuss the history, rituals and mythology of Japanese Shintoism; making sure to touch on the traditions that often confound us when they first appear in anime and even our favorite childhood videogames.In the free show we discuss:-The Kojiki Shinto Creation Story-is Shinto a religion??-Where Luck comes from-Shinto Adam and Eve-The Kami-Kagura Dance-Where Oni (demons) come from…-Maneki Neko-Influence of Buddhism-Tanuki & Animal Crossing-Amateratsu the Sun Goddess-Shapeshifting Kitsune-The Super Mario Twins-Inside a JinjaIn the extended show available at www.patreon.com/TheWholeRabbit we discuss:-Inari-Shinto Enchantments-The Tengu Oni-Japanese Nationalism-Purification Rituals-Taboo Words-Temple Oracle Girls-Fat Unicorns-The Odori-Tools of Shinto Ritual-Mudras-OfudaMusic By:Spirit Travel Plazahttps://open.spotify.com/artist/30dW3WB1sYofnow7y3V0YoWhere to find The Whole Rabbit:Youtube: https://youtu.be/z4DL6BFdzfMMerch: https://shop.spreadshirt.com/thewholerabbit/Spotify: https://open.spotify.com/show/0AnJZhmPzaby04afmEWOAVInstagram: https://www.instagram.com/the_whole_rabbit_/Notes: Temples, Ritual, Clergy and Blessings (and other) sections written by Heka AstraSources:Shrines:https://www.britannica.com/topic/Shinto/Types-of-shrinesShinto Corpus:https://www.japanese-wiki-corpus.org/Shinto.htmlFujin:https://mythopedia.com/topics/fujinYokai:https://www.goodreads.com/en/book/show/13829873-the-night-parade-of-one-hundred-demonsSupport the show (https://www.patreon.com/thewholerabbit)

With The  COVID-19 pandemic in Japan, the government was unable to impose a lockdown, but asked people instead to do same thing voluntarily.  Incorporated in this, sacrificial rituals can be seen . The book “Voluntary death in Japan” (1984) written by Maurice Pinguet was very helpful to Furui Hiroaki in thinking about the Japanese view of life and death. Pinguet's idea of seeing vitality in voluntary death seems to be a suggestion with which to overcome the current pandemic. He picks up on two recent topics that have been talked about on the theme of saving people: The movie "MINAMATA" and The movie version of Demon Slayer- Kimetsu no Yaiba “Infinity Train”. Unlike suicide, voluntary death is, so to speak, a story of rebirth.     Furui Hiroaki is a psychiatrist specialized in psychoanalysis. For some decades he was dedicated to the treatment of in-hospital patients, then 15 years ago, he opened his own clinic and has to date treated  over 6000 patients there.  Within his career, he has spent  2 years, from 1997 to 1999, in the US for training as an international fellow at the Karl Menninger School in the United States. At that time, he also received training analysis. He is currently working as a full-time clinician in his psychiatric clinic, he also dedicates as much time as possible to doing psychoanalysis. In June of 2020, He was admitted as Member of the International Psychoanalytical Association. His major studies in psychoanalysis include: countertransference to aggression in patients with obsessive-compulsive disorder,and psychotherapy processes in patients with borderline personality disorders who have experienced sibling sexual abuse.   I am a psychiatrist specialized in psychoanalysis. I have been dedicated to the treatment of in-hospital patients for decades, and after that, I open a clinic by myself 15 years ago.  During my career, I stayed in the US for 2 years at Menninger Clinic for training, and it is my great pleasure to have this opportunity to do podcast.  I have a clinic as a psychiatric practitioner. During COVID-19 pandemic, I saw patients under various situations.  Some patients have implied suicide to escape from the hardships of their life.  Despite the severalty of their claim, their tone of expressions is very calm as if they are talking about daily conversation or a joke. COVID-19 has killed many people. Since the therapist and the patient share the social situation of being next to death. It may be changing the treatment space shared by the two. There may be a special sense of solidarity between the two. Such a special relationship and environment gave me the opportunity to reconsider the Japanese view of life and death. This pandemic revealed that our government cannot use the method of “lockdown” in the Peace Constitution of Japan. Therefore, the government demanded that the people voluntarily refrain from going out in consideration of their surroundings. Most people obediently followed government instructions of “Jishuku”, which means voluntary restriction of oneself, despite confusion and contradiction. It seems that we can no longer think of the word as a volunteering to choose on our own initiative. In the history of Japan, we don't prohibit suicide so strictly. I think that one aspect of the Japanese view of life and death is expressed in people's words and deeds for this pandemic. We can't just take it as a pathological mental condition. French philosopher Roland Barthes discussed the characteristics of Japanese culture, using the example of his observation of eating habits of Sukiyaki in his “Empire of Signs”. For Westerns, forks are an extension of hunting, reminiscent of spears. For Japanese people, what they use are “hashi” chopsticks in Japanese, and it means the little thing and a tool to play. Freshly cut raw vegetables and thin slices of meat are prepared on a table, with the heated frying pan at the center.  People gather and surround the table, picked up the prepared veg and meat with their own chopsticks and fries them in a pan with sugar and soy sauce while enjoying conversation. The movement of the body with chopsticks is like a child's play which seems that the sacrificial ritual is taking place in front of them. Without this book, I wouldn't expect sacrificial rituals to be incorporated into our daily diet.   A book “Voluntary death in Japan” (1984) written by Maurice Pinguet who was a friend of Roland Barthes, a professor of philosophy at the Paris University and later taught at the Tokyo University, was very helpful in thinking about the Japanese view of life and death. Voluntary death was derived from the Latin mors voluntaria. In pandemic I began to imagine about the Japanese ceremony of “Seppuku”. But “Hara-kiri” or “Seppuku” is not unique to Japan. Pinguet presents an example of Cato, who was the first Roman to fight Caesar and was defeated, refused to submit to Caesar and be harassed by him. The spectacular situation that Cato's near relative tries to stop his behavior was drawn. In contrast, the Hara-kiri of Japanese samurai is ritualized, and some have the role of decapitating to shorten the time of the death agony. And he points out that historically Japan has never forbidden the freedom to die. In Japanese behavior, this ultimate act of death, often painful, is associated with rational and deliberate decision-making. The reason for living and the reason for dying are calmly planned. I hope this feeling may still remain in the current Japanese. Suicide is a term that started to be in use in the 18th century and is influenced by Christian religious condemnation and prejudice linked to medical pathology. He looks back on the history of various suicide studies and arrives at the influence of Durkheim and Freud. Durkheim performed typology of suicide, in which he takes up anomie suicide as a hallmark of modern society. Anomie stands for undisciplined state. Modern society has given individuals freedom, but actually it has only driven him into loneliness and anxiety. It is said that the human group will collapse and increase the number of self-centered suicides aimed as an escape from reality　and anomie suicides caused by the disappearance of collective obligations. Durkheim idealized a world of labor in order to escape from the chaotic suicide-prone world of the end of the century. Pinguet says that Japanese companies with seniority and lifetime employment have something close to that ideal. Freud also helped free suicide from the category of mental illness that was previously trapped by psychiatrists. The hypothesis of the death instinct reveals that suicide is just the tip of the iceberg of primitive masochism. Some people see masochistic characteristics in Japanese culture. Japanese try to avoid the formation of Oedipus and delay its time to immerse it in the symbiotic relationship between the child and the mother. Heisaku Kosawa's Ajatashatru Complex and Takeo Doi's Anatomy of Dependence are mentioned as references. From the point of view of current psychoanalysis, Japanese people tend to focus on the early Oedipus complex. That is, all dramas are in the mother's body. Pinguet continues to carefully trace the history of voluntary deaths in Japan, its light and shadow. First of all, the legendary hero of Japanese history in Kojiki, Yamato Takeru, goes to the eastern expedition on a ship at the command of the emperor. Along the way, a storm occurs, damaging the god of the sea. The story is that his wife, Oto Tachibana, jumps into the sea and sacrifices to calm the wrath of the sea god. Subsequently, various stories of “voluntary death” will be taken up and discussed. The Tale of Genji, Bushido, Geisha, General Nogi, Special Attack Units, Yukio Mishima, etc. Pinguet said, "After careful observation of the various paths that have led the men and women of the Japanese archipelago to “voluntary death” for centuries, I can now clearly say: Of all the virtues of the Japanese, the most outstanding and beautiful virtues are their vitality. "   Maurice Pinguet's idea of seeing vitality in voluntary death seems to be a hint to overcome the current pandemic. Finally, I would like to pick up two recent topics that have been talked about on the theme of saving people by making self-sacrifice and discuss them as a summary. 
   Topic1 The movie "MINAMATA" starring Johnny Depp has become a topic. It depicts Eugene Smith, a photographer known for his collection of photographs of Minamata disease patients, "Minamata." The motif of the movie is a picture titled "Tomoko and the Mother of the Bath" (1971), in which a 15-year-old girl with fetal Minamata disease and her mother are taking a bath. Is reminiscent of Dante's Pieta statue of Mary holding Christ down from the cross. When Minamata City was asked to sponsor the screening, it refused to sponsor it because the creator's intention was unknown, and it was not possible to determine whether it would contribute to discrimination against victims or elimination of prejudice. The mother believes she was able to maintain her health because her daughter absorbed organic mercury on her behalf during pregnancy. The mother had her daughter play a role in informing the world of her Minamata disease, but she wanted to release her from that role. Tomoko passed away in 1976 at the age of 20. This parent-child photo contains a story of self-sacrifice and salvation, not just accusations. Tomoko does not save mankind like Christ does. The name of Tomoko means a baby of wisdom. The mother wanted to bring the poisoned sea back to the original sea of fertility. Fifty years have passed since the photo was taken, and now we can take fresh seafood from the Shiranui Sea.  Shiranui means mysterious lights on the sea. This is where darkness and light intersect. The dawn comes while the lone moon remains in the sky. The sun rises and the sun sets over the sea. There is the Pure Land in the West.   Topic2 The movie version of Demon Slayer：Kimetsu no Yaiba “Infinity Train” became the world's number one in 2020 movie box office. In the movie a Japanese monster “Oni” goes into a dream and destroys the core of the spirit. Rengoku, the pillar of the demon Slayer corps, and his juniors exterminated the demon. However, an upper rank demon appeared. Rengoku fought and was severely injured by the demon. The illusion of his dead mother appeared before him at the time of death. Once Rengoku was taught by his mother that the strong will use his power to protect the weak. He asked his mother if he had completed the teaching and mother praised him for doing well. The idea is a kind of the spirit of Noblesse oblige, but different. The teaching is from an unnamed mother who died of illness. Rengoku said “Someday you guys will become HASHIRA and be the pillars of the Demon Slayer Corps.” This anime empowered many Japanese people to live. Given that the economic crisis is progressing and the number of people in need is increasing, it is possible that suicides will increase in the future. Reviving the vitality of Japan's history of " voluntary death " may lead to a decrease in the number of suicides.   After World War II, it became difficult for Japan to teach its own myths at school. Nowadays, young people who have lost their myths are free to create their own myths through manga or anime. The main character in the manga is mostly adolescents. The hero is about 14 years old. A long time ago, Japanese samurai's children at the age of 14 performed a coming-of-age ceremony called genpuku. And now, the ritual of genpuku is gone, but I think that children create psychologically, their own myth of Parental Killing: The Japanese version of the Oedipus Myth, through manga and grow up to be adults. Unlike suicide, Voluntary death is, so to speak, a story of rebirth. To conclude this text, I would like to express my condolences to the victims of COVID-19 by quoting the words of the Master of Demon Slayer. At the beginning of the movie, he visits the grave of Demon Slayer corps. And he said “No matter how many lives a demon takes, the one thing they can never crush is a human's will. No matter how battered we are, we will rise up and fight again.”   Thank you.

En este primer episodio de la segunda temporada, hablamos acerca de Sei Shonagon, una de las escritoras más importantes de la literatura clásica japonesa. También hablaremos del género del "zuihitsu", uno de los géneros más curiosos de la literatura japonesa y por el cual esta escritora es más conocida. Para hablar de ello, contamos con la Prof. Rumi Tani, quien es Doctora en Filología por la Universidad Autónoma de Madrid. Es también responsable de la traducción de grandes joyas de la literatura clásica japonesa al español, como: "Heike Monogatari", "Kojiki" y el "Sunamonogatari". Entrevistadora: Patricia Portillo Edición: Moisés Pérez Cortinilla: Jorge Aja Música: Hirokazu Akiyama (H/MIX GALLERY)

Gods having sex, founding of the imperial dynasty, and some of the origins of WWII. Plus thoughts on the role of women in early Japanese history.

Hello! Welcome to a brand new episode of Stories That Made Us. For this week's tale, we head over to the land of the rising sun, the mighty country of Japan.Japanese myths have traditionally been passed down through oral traditions, for through most of Japan's history, its communities were predominantly isolated from one another. This allowed for local legends and myths to grow around the unique features of the geographic location where the people who told the stories lived. We shall find examples of this throughout our four tales, where the stories are tied tightly to their geographic regions.The two main sources for Japanese myths that are most recognized and widely known are the texts of Kojiki and Nihon Soki or Nihongi. These ancient texts delve into the creation of the Gods and the world, and from there, continue to cover the origins of the Japanese people and the monarchy.Old listeners would have listened to the tale of Japanese creation myth in Episodes 35, 36, and 37 of the first series. Those tales were all taken from the Kojiki and Nihongi, and are a marvelous account of the trials and tribulations faced by Gods and Goddesses as they shaped the world we live in today.This week, we have four tales from this beautiful land, all courtesy of the book titled “Old World Japan – Legends of the Land of the Gods” by Frank Rinder. Details of which are below.Reference:Title: Old-World Japan: Legends of the Land of the GodsAuthor: Frank RinderURL: https://www.gutenberg.org/files/46863/46863-h/46863-h.htmWe're active on social media. Check us out below:Twitter: @storiesthtmdeus Instagram: @storiesthtmdeus Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/storiesthatmdeuse-mail: info.storiesthatmadeus@gmail.comThe music used for the episodes is either free to use or under a creative commons license. Below are their links and attributions:Dreamy Flashback by Kevin MacLeod is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/Source: http://incompetech.com/music/royalty-free/index.html?isrc=USUAN1100532Artist: http://incompetech.com/Isolated by Kevin MacLeod is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/Source: http://incompetech.com/music/royalty-free/index.html?isrc=USUAN1100792Artist: http://incompetech.com/

Da sempre la storia del Giappone è legata alla mitologia, narrazione che racconta le origini del Paese del Sol Levante e legittima la Famiglia Imperiale.Nell'episodio di oggi approfondiamo questi miti, nonché la figura dell'imperatore e alcune delle più celebri entità del folclore giapponese, in un intreccio fra magico e reale che rende questo lato della cultura nipponica davvero affascinante.

Cathrine Pawasarat, author of Gion Festival: Exploring its Mysteries, is one of the founders of the Clear Sky Retreat Center in British Columbia, Canada. Her previous book is From Wasteland to Pureland: Reflections on the Path to Awakening. The former Kyoto resident talks with us today about Kyoto's most famous event, the Gion Festival that happens every July in the former capital.Amy starts out the podcast describing Kyoto's Gion Festival, the giant floats with the tall towers on the top as they parade down the street among crowds of bystanders. Catherine explains that Kyoto's neighborhoods work year-round on the preparations for the festival, which itself lasts the entire month of July.Catherine lived in Kyoto 20 years and first found out about the festival when she practically ran into one of the gigantic wheels of a float when walking out of her accommodations one day. This led her to start asking questions about the festival, and she found that the locals themselves couldn't exactly explain what it was all about.So, what is it about? Catherine explains that one role of the festival is to serve as a giant purification ritual and another is to serve as a community bonding event across multiple generations.What is the status of the festival in the modern context? Some of the major challenges are high real estate prices and urban flight. Promising developments are also emerging such as neighborhoods using the festivals to rebuild their communities and allowing the public to join in.Amy asks about the social impact of the Gion Festival and its sustainability, to which Catherine discusses some aspects such as the case of the funeboko festival float that looks like a boat, and the plans through high precision digital measurements to recreate and reinstate it. Catherine goes on to talk about why the float is in the shape of a boat and tells a story that involves Empress Jingu.Catherine says that her bookThe Gion Festival: Exploring its Mysteries covers the many stories behind the floats that are directly related to Japanese legends and myths, including those from the Kojiki, the Nihongi, and the Tale of the Heike. There are 34 floats that participate in the festival, and the book dedicates a page to each float and the history behind it.Amy asks Catherine why she brought out the book in two separate versions, print and e-book, and to elaborate on the differences. They talk about the pros and cons of both print and digital books. Catherine hopes that by offering both formats she can provide two very different reader experiences. Amy mentions that Cody Poulton, who reviewed the book on the Books on Asia site, was so intrigued with the idea of two different formats that he bought them both.Catherine says she was inspired by the book Gateway to Japan, a Kodansha guide written by June Kinoshita and Nicholas Palevsky and wanted to provide engrossing information for the sights. She also realizes that guidebooks are heavy to carry around. So the e-book version has hyperlinks to  other related information on the festival, its components, legends, noh theater, etc..Amy asks Catherine what it takes to put together a book like this. Catherine said it started with her writing a couple of articles for the Japan Times. One of the articles was about women being able to participate in the musical troupes after an absence of 300 years. This sparks  a discussion on women's roles in festivals, and although women might not be seen in the procession, they actually do have very important, but more hidden, roles. Catherine talks about how the women are the main representatives of historic families that the floats are oriented around. There are two sides to whether women should participate or even whether they want to participate.Getting back to writing the book, Catherine says she lived in one of the Gion Festival neighborhoods for three years so she had a lot of opportunities to become familiar with it, ask questions, and take notes. There were challenges to putting together a print book with so many photos while having to be mindful of the price of the book.Catherine realized there wasn't much information available in English, and so she wanted to publish a book. That was 15 years ago. She also talks about the Japanese way of doing things, in which one dedicates their whole life to something before they actually "know" anything about it, so while she realized she probably knew more than any native speaker about the Gion Festival, she still felt she had to do more research. This research has been cultivated over 15 years. In the meantime, the self-publishing industry has become robust enough for her to take a chance at self-publishing the book herself.  Dhe went to a writing retreat so she could give herself the time to just write and write and write. She had been taking photos for many years, so she already had something to work from.Amy says she has heard that at the Gion Festival tourists are invited into the houses of the locals to see their family heirlooms. Catherine responds by saying that no, this is a false rumor! People are supposed to admire the artworks from he outside. But the doors are left open, so tourists might think they can walk in.This sparks a discussion on tourist manners in Japan. Catherine says she has a section on dos and don'ts. She notes that the Kyoto people all volunteer to do these things for the festival, so this generosity really needs to be respected.Amy, who wrote "Amy's Guide to Best Behavior in Japan," says she always advises people to ask before they do anything in Japan. So even if the doors are open, don't presume you can just walk in. If you ask first, it allows the person to politely decline, and Catherine points out that it also gives them the opportunity to educate us.Catherine talks about the two parts of the festival, the "before festival" July 10-17, which is the biggest, with 23 floats, street stalls, street food and such, and the "after festival," July 18-24 with 11 floats.Catherine says research is important for the festival and she is happy to be a resource for people interested in doing their own research on the festival and who need help on where to go to learn more. She talks about the role writers have in helping the festival survive, especially since the popularity of the festival also inherently endangers it. She says she wrote the book to help it remain sustainable and to help people understand that it is not just a tourist event but  a spiritual ritual that is put on voluntarily so that we can enjoy it. Having a sense of appreciation and meaning helps ground it and make it a more thoughtful experience for everyone.Find out more information on Catherine Pawasarat and visit her website GionFestival.org and social media channels: Facebook, Instagram and YouTube. Get a free excerpt of the Gion Festival book here: gionfestival.org/booksonasiaCatherine can also be found at planetdharma.comLastly, Amy asks Catherine what her favorite books on Japan are:Gateway to Japan by June KinoshitaOld Kyoto: Guide to Traditional Shops, Restaurants and Inns by Diane DurstonLost Japan by Alex KerrMemories of Silk and Straw by Jun'ichi SagaEngendering Faith: Women and Buddhism in Premodern Japan, edited by Barbara RuchThe Books on Asia Podcast is sponsored by Stone Bridge Press, publisher of fine books on Asia for over 30 years.Books on AsiaTwitter: @BooksOnAsiaFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/booksonasiahttps://www.facebook.com/amyonasia/ 

古事記　素戔嗚尊 こじき　すさのおのみこと

古事記　倭建命（日本武尊） こじき　やまとたけるのみこと

ようこそ! ¡Bienvenidos al podcast Japonés para todos! ¿Sabes cómo llegaron los caracteres chinos a Japón? ¿Sabes de dónde surge el hiragana o el katakana? En este episodio te contamos todo sobre el surgimiento de la escritura en Japón, el periodo Asuka que es donde entra la escritura y los cambios en arte, política y lo social, también sobre periodo Nara donde surgen los primeros escritos formales con el Kojiki y el Nihin Shoki. ¿Tienes algún comentario? ¿te animas a participar? ¿quieres aprender japonés? escríbenos en el Instagram @japanesefordummies En este episodio: Nicolás Sensei de Japanese for Dummies y Ale Medina desde México. Coordinación: Rayen Huirilef. Producción: Alejandra Carvajal. 'Japonés para todos' el podcast para los interesados en la cultura japonesa donde se comparten opiniones, conocimientos, e información sobre elementos de la cultura, costumbres y el idioma de Japón. Y si te preguntas ¿Dónde encuentro los libros de los que hablan en el episodio? Aquí están los links: Genji Monogatari de Murasaki Shikibu: https://drive.google.com/file/d/13ch4Hnu9LxMr_u9mENJDj9-hRAO2Jg8n/view?usp=sharing Música MÚSICA JAPONESA – Music Mix channel https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xbtOhNK--N4

As museums across Japan celebrate the 1,400th anniversary of the death of Prince Shōtoku Taishi, the legendary figure who brought Buddhism to Japan, the Sainsbury Institute together with the Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts at the University of East Anglia is currently collaborating with major universities and museums in Japan to create a special exhibit commemorating the event. This Shōtoku Intervention will display the Sainsbury Centre's collection of Japanese Buddhist and Shinto artefacts centred around a rare 13th century Kamakura period statue of a female Shinto deity. To better explain the significance of Shōtoku Taishi, Beyond Japan will be exploring over three episodes the religious, political and historical context of this dynamic period of East Asian history. We hope you enjoy our Shōtoku miniseries. Oliver is joined by our third and final Shōtoku interviewee Bryan Lowe, Assistant Professor of Religion at Princeton University, who will help us get to grips with the tricky task of reading history from mythology in such ancient texts as Japan's Kojiki, or “An Account of Ancient Matters” written in 711 and Nihon Shoki, or “Japanese Chronicles” written in 720. Bryan begins by exploring why texts were written in this time and how some texts like Buddhist sutras were written and read for rituals rather than sharing information, yet we can still glean much about life in those times from the context in which they were written. In taking this approach, we try to make sense of legendary figures such as Prince Shōtoku Taishi, seeing what we can learn about the man the legend is based upon and what the legends themselves tell us. Image credits: [L] Japan, late Heian period - Further Discourses on the Supreme Truth (Abidharmakosha-Bhashya) - 1916.1060 - Cleveland Museum of Art.tif by anonymous is marked with CC0 1.0 [R] 聖徳太子 [Shōtoku Taishi] by jun560 is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0 Copyright © 2021 Oliver Moxham, ℗ 2021 Oliver Moxham. May be freely distributed in a classroom setting. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/beyond-japan/message

Hello everyone! This week we'll be taking a look at the Shinto faith, what it is, and the shrines associated with it!Learn more about AAPI Hate and how you can help:https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=14WUuya94QEhttps://nymag.com/strategist/article/where-to-donate-to-help-asian-communities-2021.htmlSupport the show on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/ancienthistoryexpandedFollow this podcast on Instagram for updates and pictures of these ancient sites and stories: https://www.instagram.com/ancienthistorypodcast/Business  Inquiries: ancienthistorypod@gmail.comCurrent info and up to date information on COVID-19: https://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/index.htmlhttps://www.cdc.gov/coronavirus/2019-ncov/vaccines/index.htmlhttps://www.who.int/emergencies/diseases/novel-coronavirus-2019/covid-19-vaccinesBooks and Articles used  for Research are as  follows:-"Shinto: The Kami Way" by Sokyo Ono-"A Year in the Life of a Shinto Shrine" by John K Nelson-"On Understanding Japanese Religion" by Joseph Mitsuo Kitagawa-A translation of the Kojiki: https://www.sacred-texts.com/shi/kj/index.htm

As museums across Japan celebrate the 1,400th anniversary of the death of Prince Shōtoku Taishi, the legendary figure who brought Buddhism to Japan, the Sainsbury Institute together with the Sainsbury Centre for Visual Arts at the University of East Anglia is currently collaborating with major universities and museums in Japan to create a special exhibit commemorating the event. This Shōtoku Intervention will display the Sainsbury Centre's collection of Japanese Buddhist and Shinto artefacts centred around a rare 13th century Kamakura period statue of a female Shinto deity. To better explain the significance of Shōtoku Taishi, Beyond Japan will be exploring over three episodes the religious, political and historical context of this dynamic period of East Asian history. We hope you enjoy our Shōtoku miniseries. Oliver is joined by our second Shōtoku interviewee Chizuko Allen, Professor of Asian Pacific American Studies at the University of Hawaii at Manoa and researcher of Korea-Japan relations in ancient times, who will discuss the hidden history of the powerful women of Japan's distant past through the First Empress of Japan, Empress Jingū. Through Jingū and other examples, we can see how empresses played a key role in engaging the Japanese state with continental kingdoms and even lead military campaigns, their record superseding that of their husbands in the ancient records of the Kojiki and the Nihon Shoki. She also discusses how this legacy was appropriated by expansionists in the 16th and 19th century before being buried in the post-war period through modern interpretations (or misinterpretations) of these texts. Chizuko's research profile Read Empress Jingū: a shamaness ruler in early Japan Image credits: [L] Empress Jingu In Korea by Glaurung_Quena is licensed under CC BY-NC-ND 2.0 [R] Empress Jingu and Takenouchi no Sukune Fishing at Chikuzen LACMA M.84.31.260 by Fæ is licensed under CC BY 2.0 Copyright © 2021 Oliver Moxham, ℗ 2021 Oliver Moxham. May be freely distributed in a classroom setting. --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/beyond-japan/message

Today we continue our journey through the story of the Japanese islandsThere are several specific topics that I would like to take a deeper dive into but I want to make sure that we have some basic ground covered before we get to deep into it.Throughout these 13 episodes, We will cover the entire span of Japanese history, from the early hunter-gatherers of the Jomon to the Newest Era, Reiwa. This will introduce the general outline of Japanese  history for those who are not familiar and will begin to contextualize famous events and people  Music Credits: Opening: The Wind by Komiku Closing: Escaping_like_Indiana_Jones by Komiku 

On this episode, Brian and Emma sit down to talk about some more scary creatures. Each of them brings a description of a monster and the other uses their knowledge of the creepy to guess what it is. Join along in the fun and take a guess for yourself. Enjoy! Want to get in touch with us? For work related inquires and suggestions for the show: murdermirthmonsters@gmail.com Twitter: @MirthAndMurder Sources for this episode: https://cryptidz.fandom.com/wiki/Tsuchinoko https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kojiki https://www.japantimes.co.jp/news/2001/06/16/national/town-touting-mythical-snake-find-is-rare-creature-really-a-cash-cow/ https://www.city.akaiwa.lg.jp/shisei/tutinoko/3229.html https://snake-facts.weebly.com/tsuchinoko.html https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Silb%C3%B3n https://cryptidz.fandom.com/wiki/El_Silbon

Today, in the 35th episode of Stories That Made Us, we talk about the Creation Myth of the Japanese. This is a story of the creation of the Shinto Gods and Goddesses, who then created our world, and us. Before we delve into the story, it is worthwhile to note that our understanding of the Japanese Creation myth is based on two ancient texts. Whilst the stories must have circulated orally since long before, it was first put to prose in 682 A.D. - commissioned by Emperor Temmu as a "history of the Emperors and of matters of high antiquity". It wasn't to be completed, however, until A.D. 712 and was compiled by the court scholar Ono Yasumaro. The book, of course, isn't exactly supposed to be an accurate historical record but is to be seen more as a text that establishes a clear line of descent for the Japanese rulers and nobility from the 7th and 8th century A.D to the Shinto gods, and ultimately, the Supreme Goddess - The Sun Goddess - Amaterasu. Two years after the completion of the Kojiki, Empress Gemio commissioned the preparation of a "national history". Not much is known about this project, other than that the book was completed and laid before the Empress in 720 A.D. by Prince Toneri and Yasumaro Futo no Ason. This is The Nihon Shoki, or the Nihongi, and is best considered a sequel to the Kojiki. It is more complete, elegant, and goes a long way in addressing many of the discrepancies in the Kojiki. It also reasserts the history and genealogies of some of the clans who are not mentioned in the Kojiki. So it is these two books that are the pillars of our understanding of the Japanese or the Shinto creation myths. In this episode, we cover just the first part of the Japanese creation myth, focussing on the beginning of all, on Genesis. Stay tuned for the conclusion of this magnificent and intricate tale in the later episodes. I hope you enjoy the tale. If you do, please leave a rating and feedback. Share and subscribe! Your patronage would help us immensely! Get in touch with us: Twitter: @storiesthtmdeus Instagram: @storiesthtmdeus Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/storiesthatmdeus e-mail: info.storiesthatmadeus@gmail.com The music used for the episodes is either free to use or under creative commons license. Below are their links and attributions: Laendler in C Minor Hess 68 by Kevin MacLeod is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ Source: http://incompetech.com/music/royalty-free/?keywords=laendler&Search=Search Artist: http://incompetech.com/ Anguish by Kevin MacLeod is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ Source: http://incompetech.com/music/royalty-free/index.html?isrc=USUAN1400047 Artist: http://incompetech.com/ Deep Space by Audionautix is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ Artist: http://audionautix.com/ What Does Anybody Know About Anything by Chris Zabriskie is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution 4.0 license. https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/ Source: http://chriszabriskie.com/dtv/ Artist: http://chriszabriskie.com/

The Nara Period began with the court's relocation to Heijo-kyo during the reign of Empress Genmei. In this episode, we'll explore the recorded mythology from the period as well as the new capital in all of its grandeur as well as the court in all of its pomp. For pictures of the reconstructed Heijo Palace as well as a really cool scale model of the ancient capital, check out the supplemental post.Support the show (https://www.patreon.com/AHistoryOfJapan)

We are kicking our Japanese triptych off with a slice of mythology that's been aged to perfection. Ashley takes us back to the 8th century to explore the story of the conflict between two brothers, Ho-Deri and Hoho-Demi, and how it helped shape or reshape Japanese history. Afterward, Ashley offers some connections between this myth and similar myths from cultures around the world through the motif of the warring brothers. We hope this first course will whet your appetite for the rest of our Japanese menu!To stay on top of all the latest from Pineapple Pizza Podcast, be sure to check out our website at http://www.pineapplepizzapodcast.com (www.pineapplepizzapodcast.com) where you will find links to merch, Patreon and a variety of ways to support the show, as well as detailed episode descriptions and regional specials. Help our show grow by leaving us a review on Apple Podcasts at https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/pineapple-pizza-podcast/id1543640038 (https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/pineapple-pizza-podcast/id1543640038)Or on Podchaser at https://www.podchaser.com/podcasts/pineapple-pizza-podcast-1568165 (https://www.podchaser.com/podcasts/pineapple-pizza-podcast-1568165)You can also send mail to Pineapple Pizza PodcastPO Box 341Wyoming, MN 55092Remember, no matter how you slice it, you're awesome and we love you.Sources:The Kojiki (Translations from the Asian Matters) Trans. Gustav HeldtWikipediahttps://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kojiki (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Kojiki)https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emperor_Jimmu (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Emperor_Jimmu)Encyclopedia of Shinto: http://eos.kokugakuin.ac.jp/modules/xwords/entry.php?entryID=64 (http://eos.kokugakuin.ac.jp/modules/xwords/entry.php?entryID=64)“Hoori vs Hoderi” https://japanesemythology.wordpress.com/hoori-hohodemi-vs-hohoderi-hooderi/ (https://japanesemythology.wordpress.com/hoori-hohodemi-vs-hohoderi-hooderi/)Ancient History Encyclopedia https://www.ancient.eu/Romulus_and_Remus/ (https://www.ancient.eu/Romulus_and_Remus/)Britannica.com https://www.britannica.com/topic/Shinto (https://www.britannica.com/topic/Shinto)

durée : 01:51:42 - Fictions / Théâtre et Cie - Une nuit, un enfant, dont la mère est absente, est visité dans l’obscurité de sa chambre par deux questions : "Comment tout a commencé ?" et "Pourquoi je suis moi-même ?"

durée : 01:51:42 - Fictions / Théâtre et Cie - Une nuit, un enfant, dont la mère est absente, est visité dans l’obscurité de sa chambre par deux questions : "Comment tout a commencé ?" et "Pourquoi je suis moi-même ?"

A bonus episode to go with our episode on Dragons of the East. Adam Simpson offers some ideas for bringing East Asia into your Mage Chronicles. Seven Branch Sword https://michael-chen-mg2n.squarespace.com/news/2017/10/12/legendary-7-branched-sword-of-japan https://www.ancient-origins.net/artifacts-other-artifacts/seven-branched-sword-mystical-ceremonial-sword-japan-003185 http://nihonshoki.wikidot.com/scroll-9-jingu (look for Death of the King of Baekje) Books Religion in Contemporary Japan by Ian Reader. University of Hawaii Press 1991 Japanese Religions Past & Present by Ian Reader, Esben Andreasen & Finn Stefansson. University of Hawaii Press 1993 Ninja Attack! by Hiroko Yoda & Matt Alt. Kodansha International 2010 True Path of the Ninja by Antony Cummins & Yoshie Minami. Tuttle Publishing 2011 Taiko by Eiji Yoshikawa. Kodansha International 1967 (1992) Yokai Attack! by Hiroko Yoda & Matt Alt. Tuttle Publishing 2008 Kojiki by Donald L. Philippi (translator). University of Tokyo Press 1968 The Classic of Mountains and Seas by Anne Birrell (translator). Penguin Classics 1999 The Journey to the West by Anthony C. Yu (translator). University of Chicago Press 1977 --- Send in a voice message: https://anchor.fm/mage-the-podcast/message Support this podcast: https://anchor.fm/mage-the-podcast/support

Sailor Noob is the podcast where a Sailor Moon superfan and a total noob go episode by episode through the original Sailor Moon series!Look who's talking this week as Mamoru and Usagi are tasked with taking care of a baby. When Ail and An start targeting daycares, the Sailor Scouts will have to race to protect the toddlers of Tokyo!In this episode, we discuss Labor Thanksgiving Day, the declining birth rate in Japan, the "1.57 shock", Japanese women in the workforce, oniyome, "herbivore men" and "carnivore women", sekkusu shinai shokogun or “celibacy syndrome”, mendokusai, "irregular workers", Kojiki, Nihon Shoki, magatama beads, and Sailor Says. We also talk about reproductive babushka dolls, baby VO, intersex names, classic baby moves, tofu boys, fast-forward Japan, aunt Becky action, Ami gets a new power, and Mika finally gets a sticker!A Gundam in every pot!We're on iTunes and your listening platform of choice! Please subscribe and give us a rating and a review! Arigato gozaimasu!https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/sailor-noob/id1486204787Become a patron of the show!http://www.patreon.com/sailornoobSailor Noob is a part of the Just Enough Trope podcast network. Check out our other shows about your favorite pop culture topics and join our Discord!http://www.twitter.com/noob_sailorhttp://www.justenoughtrope.comhttp://www.instagram.com/noob_sailorhttps://discord.gg/ATMBeUDBuy us a Kōhī on Ko-Fi!https://ko-fi.com/E1E01M2UA

Á tímabilinu milli 250 til 500 voru reistir um það bil 160.000 grafhýsi fyrir ýmsa smákonunga í Japan. Stærstu grafhýsin risu þar sem í dag má finna borgina Osaka, og á nærliggjandi svæðum þar í kring. Um þetta tímabil er fátt vitað með vissu, en fjölmargar goðsögur og þjóðsögur sem eiga að gerast á tímabilinu má finna í fornritum á borð við Nihon Shoki og Kojiki sem skrifuð voru við upphaf miðalda í Japan.

In many Japanese myths and manga and anime, heroes are foreigners who come from outside the community. This has to do with Japan's history of seeing innovation almost always being brought from overseas. We don't know the author's real intent, but Dragon Ball is a representative example of the Japanese cultural idea about heroes.Show host Kyota Ko explains why.For more discussion on this topic, visit The Metro-classic Japanese blog. Also find The Metro-classic Japanese on Instagram. Support the show

Directed by Hiroshi Inagaki Produced by Sanezumi Fujimoto, Tomoyuki Tanaka Screenplay by Toshio Yasumi, Ryuzo Kikushima Based on Kojiki and Nihon Shoki Starring Toshiro Mifune, Yoko Tsukasa, Koji Tsuruta Cinematography Kazuo Yamada Release date 1 November 1959 (Japan) Running time 182 minutes

El Kojiki es el libro histórico más antiguo que se conserva sobre la historia de Japón; en sus páginas podremos encontrar mitos, leyendas y narraciones históricas sobre el país nipón, y para hablarnos sobre él nos visita Carlos Rubio, doctor en Lingüística por la Universidad de California y co-traductor de esta obra al castellano.

Glorious Promises in Unfamiliar Territory I'd like to commend to you that you open your Bibles to Isaiah 41. I think, especially as we move out of Isaiah 40, which is very familiar I think to any that are regularly reading the Bible and we go ahead now into Isaiah 41 and beyond that into other chapters, I guarantee we're going to go into some unfamiliar territory. And just because it's unfamiliar, doesn't mean that it's not a rich blessing. Actually in some ways it's even better that way, isn't it? We're going to be discovering some incredible things in the word of God, but I just am following section by section through the chapters. And so, it'll just mean more to you, if you're able to see it right on the page and be able to link the things I'm saying to what you're reading in the text, so I just commend that to you. Before I begin, I just want to summarize the message in a simple word right now, just a simple summary. What we're going to find in Isaiah 41 is that God who takes on the idols on a specific issue, what you just heard, read for us, he's going to take on the idols and say, He can do something that no one else can do. He is able to foretell the future. And we're going to see the reason He's able to do that is because He has decreed the future, He is the King over the universe, and He is able to predict the future not only at a smaller detailed level of Cyrus coming and destroying the Babylonian Empire, and allowing the Jews to return, but bigger than that he has decreed a savior, who for us now is in the past, but in Isaiah's day was in the future and His fulfillment of all of that points to a bright and glorious future for all of us. And so, my final application is not just to marvel that God knows the future and can predict it, and no one else can. But in verse 10, that this same God wants to comfort you in your own fears about the future, because you don't know what's around the next corner, and it's so easy to be afraid. You are wise enough and old enough to see the kinds of tragedies that suddenly befall people, even brothers and sisters in Christ, and you may be shrinking back from that and wondering, "What is my future, what's going to happen to me?" I'm going to kind of end up at Isaiah 41:10. Do not be afraid. I am with you. I have already been to the future. More than I have just been to the future, I've decreed it, and it is a good place for you. So be filled with hope and I'm going to get you there. I'm going to hold you by my righteous right hand, and I'm going to bring you straight through to a glorious end. So there it is. So now you may wonder why even do all the details? I'll tell you why, because the details are glorious, and so, I yearn to just unfold Isaiah 41 for you and we're going to have to keep a strong pace. Okay, I'm going to just take a minute now and tell you something that happens regularly at my kitchen sink, alright? You may wonder what in the world does this have to do with anything? I'm not even sure why I'm telling you this, but we have a little soap dispenser there of kitchen soap. And I regularly make the same mistake over and over, I pour too much of the liquid in there and it just pours out and gets wasted. I have a feeling that my wife may be talking to me about this, that probably never happens to you, but I just... It just pours out and I have to rake it in the sink, and it goes down the drain. Don't let that happen to you today. I'm going to be pouring out Isaiah 41 in you. Expand your capacity and let's take the whole chapter in. Let's not waste any of all that God wants to tell us. So just pick up with me and track. And now, as I begin, I want to tell you I... My initial thought on this, I go to the end of the chapter, and you've already heard beautifully in Isaiah 41 how God boasts over the idols his ability to predict the future. And he says, he's the only one that can do it. This is something that sets him apart from the idols. What Makes Christianity Unique? Now, many of us wonder, as we stand at this place in time in this pluralistic country of ours, a country that embraces and loves all kinds of diversity, some of it is good diversity that God made, some isn't. As we stand here at this juncture of time, we are again and again being asked to make a defense for Christianity from the unbelieving, the skeptical, the culture despisers of Christianity saying, "How do you know that your religion is any better, any different than anyone else's? How do you know that Christianity is the one true religion in the world? How can you tell?" We are called on by God to be the light of the world, we're called on to shine radiantly in a dark place. Peter tells us that we should always be prepared to give an answer to anyone who asked us to give a reason for the hope that we have. So, my desire is to preach towards that hope. So, you're radiant and hope start there, but now I want to go beyond that and give reasons for it. I want you to be able to give a reason defense for Christianity to skeptics and atheists and other people who may ask, "What makes Christianity different?" And even more importantly, "How do you know that Jesus Christ is truly the Savior of the world, the only savior there is?" For me, personally, ultimately, it all comes down to this book, the Bible, the uniqueness of the Bible as it testifies to the uniqueness of Jesus Christ, that's the difference between Christianity and every other world religion. Now, skeptics may claim other religions have sacred writings, other religions have their sacred books. For example, Buddhism has various collected sayings of Buddha called the Buddhavacana. Hinduism has the Vedas and the Upanishads, and the Bhagavad Gita, and different holy writings. Of course, Islam has the Quran. Shintoism has the Kojiki. Scientology even has a book Dianetics by L. Ron Hubbard. Mormonism of course, has the Book of Mormon, so how do we know that Christianity is different? How can we know the Bible is unique in this crowded field of spiritual writings, holy books revered by millions of people around the world? Now, there are many answers to this as I've already said, the greatest answer is the way the Bible testifies to Jesus Christ and Jesus of the Bible is utterly unique and could not have been concocted by human ingenuity. The person and work of Jesus Christ claiming to be God incarnate, sinless, claiming to be sinless, teaching in ways that no one had ever taught before or has taught since, doing astonishing signs and wonders and miracles, raising the dead, cleansing those that had leprosy, speaking to the wind and the waves and it obeyed Him. And then of course, the greatest miracle of all, His own resurrection from the dead on the third day. Focused, especially on Christ, His atoning death and His bodily resurrection witnessed by over 500 people. But along with this, is the Bible's testimony to Christ, especially in the issue of prophecy, things that were written about Jesus and about the world long before they happened. The Bible contains dozens of prophets who speak with amazing clarity about future events. One scholar has counted, listen to this, over 2000 prophecies in the Bible covering every nation within 1000 miles of Jerusalem. In Isaiah alone, there are dozens of very specific prophecies about the nations of His day, Israel, Judah, Egypt, the Philistines, Moab, Ammon, Syria, Assyria, Babylon, Greece, etcetera, specific prophecies, about the nations of his day, and what was going on in that time. But not only Isaiah, Jeremiah, specifically predicted the fall of Babylon, exactly when it would happen, and exactly how it would happen, by the diversion of a river enabling soldiers to crawl under a wall and then slay those who were drunk in their sleep and then open the doors, the gates of Babylon so the city could be destroyed, that specific 70 years before it happened. The Book of Daniel very specifically predicts the coming of Alexander the Great, the king of Greece, who with astonishing speed destroys the Persian Empire, and reaches a height of power scarcely to be imagined, but at the height of his power, cut off, his kingdom divided and broken into four sections, exactly what happened to Alexander the Great. The Book of Ezekiel describes the destruction of the City of Tyre, a prosperous port city by a series of conquests, one after the other, including Alexander the Great, centuries before any of it happened. And even more amazingly that the city of Tyre would never be rebuilt, though, it was just perfectly situated as a port city. But the most overwhelming body of prophecy in the Bible focuses on the person and work of Christ, that same scholar accounted over 500 specific prophecies focused on Jesus. And I believe all of it ultimately points to Christ, ultimately. God isn't ultimately wanting us to be amazed that Cyrus the Great was predicted a century and a half before he was even born and just be amazed that Cyrus had some kind of a kingdom at some point, that's all gone, it's dust. Nobody even... Barely even knows him. And the Medo-Persian Empire is gone. Was that the whole point? No, that was not the whole point. Rather that Jesus Christ is the savior of the world, and his kingdom will never pass away. That's the whole point that we're moving towards. Now, by contrast, I went with the kind of confidence that comes from a Bible believer, reading the themes of Isaiah 41 and later in this section of Isaiah, clearly God saying, He's the only one that can predict the future and make it come to pass. I went with great confidence to Google and searched phrases like Islamic prophecies and had a wonderful time. My very biased conclusion is, there are none. Now, you can read. There's one website where they talk about how in the Quran, the use of fingerprints and fighting crime is predicted, then you go to the Quran and read it, just have a good time with it, because there just aren't any Islamic prophecies. There were some immediate oracles about some of the nations that surrounded during Muhammad's time. Go ahead and read and come to your own conclusion. Buddhism and Hinduism doesn't even try. It's kind of like floating above all of the earthly events and just up there in enlightenment-ville. And so, they're not trying to make predictions about the nations, it's just not what they do. There are a few of them that talk about general sinfulness of the human race, but it just is not compelling at all. Any prophecies there are in some of the cults are borrowed, I think, from the Bible. And so ultimately, there just aren't any fulfilled prophecy, and we shouldn't be surprised, because God's the only one that can do this. So let's dig in and look. I. The Lord Challenges Idols... and Defeats Them! And in this chapter what we're going to see is that God specifically is challenging idols and defeating them. In Isaiah 40, we've already seen the awesome God of Isaiah 40, now He's moving out in Isaiah 41, to comfort and strengthen and save His people. That's what's happening as we move from Isaiah 40 to 41. Isaiah 40, what a great chapter, how from the beginning, God comforts His people with the message that their sins are forgiven by an ample atonement, ultimately in Christ. The same God who moves out over a desert road and levels the mountains and raises the valleys and no obstacle can stop Him. The God who reveals His glory to all mankind and the entire human race will be able to see the glory of the Lord. The God who declares that all humanity is flesh and all their glories, like the flowers in the field and the grass withers, and the flowers fall, but the Word of our God stands forever. This is the God who proclaims a message of good news to Zion and to the ends of the Earth. And the center piece of that good news is, behold your God. The astonishing range of this God who tends His people like a gentle shepherd with His lambs. But at the same time, holds the waters of the Earth in His cupped hand, and with the breadth of His hand marks off the heavens. The God who says of the nations, they are a drop from the bucket and dust on the scales. The God who sits enthroned above the circle of the Earth, and all of its people are like grasshoppers, this God rules over all of human history, He is sovereign over the nations. Now why does God take on idols and idolatry which He clearly does in this chapter? You look at verse 7, and it talks there about the idol maker, who is smoothing gold with his hammer and nailing it down, so it won't topple. He's dealing with idolatry and idols here. Well, it's because of idolatry that the exile to Babylon, which hasn't even come yet is going to come. And so, God is challenging the idolatry of His people. But let's go above the immediate circumstances, because every single human being struggles with a choice between worshipping idols or worshipping the true and living God. So we struggle with idols every bit as much as they did. And so God is challenging the idols of our hearts in every generation. Now, Israel's punishment would be exile to Babylon, God's remedy then is to challenge the idols, take them on, fight them. He wants to control history and use his sovereign control of history to orchestrate a salvation for His people. So God takes on the idols. And we're going to see this again and again in these 10 chapters, Isaiah 40 to 49, God is going to take on the idols, he's going to challenge them. And we see in this the jealousy of God. God is jealous over our hearts, he's jealous like a husband over the affections of his wife. The church is called the bride of Christ. Israel was portrayed in similar language as the wife of Yahweh. And so, he is jealous. He even says His name is jealous. He says in the 10 Commandments, "Do not make any idols, for I the Lord, your God, am a jealous God." The Psalmist said, they made idols and so provoked God to jealousy by what their hands have made. So God is jealous and He's going after our heart affections and He's challenging His rivals, He's taking on His rivals, see what they can do. And He's going to defeat them. And so, the battle ground he chooses here. [chuckle] So let's do this, bring in your idols and let's see if you can foretell the future, and that's going to be the challenge. Let's see if you can do that. So ultimately He's going to win. And so, God is challenging the issue of the foretelling of the future. Now, in order to understand that, we have to understand what we know already basic facts of nature of the physics of the world we live in. And the linear progression of time, the sequencing of events is basic to the world we live in. Look at verse 4, it says, "Who has done this and carried it through calling forth the generations from the beginning." I mean, that should recall even the very beginning of the Bible. In the beginning God created the heavens and the Earth. So there's a beginning, that means there's a beginning, a middle, and an end. There's a linear view of history being taught in the Bible, not the big circular thing with karma and all that being taught by Eastern religions. But there's a linear view beginning, middle, end. It's Biblical, a linear view of history. First this, then that, then the other. A then B, then C, then D. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the first and the last, the beginning and the end, there's a linear sequencing here. One, two, three, four. You see it in Genesis 1. There was evening and there was morning, the first day. There was evening and morning, the second day. There's a sequencing here and the thing builds on it, you can't have beasts and people made of the dust of the Earth if there is no dust or Earth yet. And so, first you have to have Earth with dust and then you can have beasts and people made from it. So there's a sequencing here and it makes sense to us. So it is in redemptive history. First, you have the promise to Abraham that his descendants would be as numerous as the stars in the sky when he was just a solitary man at that point. That must precede the Exodus, don't you see that? It must precede his numerous descendants being rescued out of Egypt. And so, the sequencing of those things they must become slaves in Egypt before the Exodus can happen. There's a sequencing in redemptive history. God has ordered all the details of human history before He created the universe, the Bible tells us that God had, and let's use a very human expression, figured all this out before the world began. Now, don't go there, because God doesn't figure anything out, He knows. It's not like God ever said, "Aha, I got it." That means a moment before that, He didn't get it yet. So God doesn't figure anything out. I'm just saying, He knew everything about history before the world began. But more than that, the Bible teaches He decrees that history, He decrees it, like a sovereign king, He chooses that history. Then beyond that he sends forth special individuals, prophets, who declare certain details of that history... Is it still there? No, it fell. Sorry about that. I don't move around much. Should I? Is this better? Over here? No, I'm not doing that. God then declares certain details of that redemptive history that he had predicted in the Prophets. He declares it before it comes to pass, then he executes His plan down to the tiniest detail to achieve His final ends. And the centerpiece of all of this, is the saving work of God in Christ for sinners like you and me. That's what He's doing. And so, we are looking today at the astonishing power of predictive prophecy. No created being really knows the future. None of us. No human being and no angel or demon. No one. Why is that? Because God decides what finally is going to happen? Think about what it says in Proverbs 19:21, "Many are the plans in a man's heart, but it's the Lord's purpose that prevails." You make all your plans, all the plans you want, but if God says no, that's it. So a king may say, "I'm going to invade my neighboring countries." If God says, "No, you won't." He doesn't. Read about it in Isaiah 7, when one king decided they're going to come into Judah and topple the Davidic King and God said, "No, you won't, it will not take place." And so, it didn't take place. Satan may say, "I'm going to ascend to Assyria and Assyria is going to wipe out Jerusalem," and God says, "No, you won't." And so, Satan doesn't know the future, he's got to wait on God to find out what He'll permit, because God is the sovereign King. So the ability the prophets have to declare the future shows that they're speaking for Almighty God. We should not imagine therefore that God is just a good guesser or a very astute student of the human heart. None of the above. God's not a good guesser, God doesn't do any guessing. God decrees and makes it happen. It's the ultimate, as I've said, self-fulfilling prophecy. He makes the prophecy and then He fulfills it. And His ability to do this sets Him apart from all the Gods of the nations. In this chapter therefore, in several places in the series of chapters, we're going to see this again and again, God highlights his ability to predict the future events. Look at Verses 26-27. "Who told of this from the beginning, so we could know or beforehand, so we could say he was right? No one told of this. No one foretold it, no one heard any words from you [Speaking to the idols]. I was the first to tell Zion, look, here they are. I gave to Jerusalem a messenger of good tidings." And along with that He exposed the idols for the false Gods they are. Look at verse 24, speaking to the idols again. "You are less than nothing, and your works are utterly worthless. He who chooses you is detestable." In Verse 29, "Behold, they are all false. Their deeds amount to nothing, their images are but wind and confusion." Now, the specific focus here, the immediate focus of this prediction is the rise of Cyrus the Great, one from the east, we're going to see in verse 2, one from the east. He's not mentioned here, there's lots of debates about this one from the east. But by the time we get to Isaiah 44-45, he's mentioned by name Cyrus. In those chapters, Isaiah 44-45 are clear, and so therefore, I think it's reasonable to see the actions of this same Cyrus here, why is he important? Because Cyrus is the one who's going to destroy Babylon and allow the Jews to return to Jerusalem and rebuild it. But that's just the detail. Big picture is, God can do this all the time, this is what God does. And so, as I said, I'm bringing you ultimately to verse 10, saying, "Do not be afraid of the future for God is with you. He's already seen the future, he's already decreed the future, he knows that for you in Christ it's bright." And he wants to encourage you about that. So this is just evidence of the stunning uniqueness of Christianity, the uniqueness of the Bible, this issue of predictive prophecy. No other religion has it. So when you're on the college campus, when you're in the workplace, when you're talking to unsaved relatives and they say kind of, this kind of thing to you, "How do you know that Christianity, your religion is different than any other religion in the world?" Now you have an answer. You've already had it before, perhaps, but focus on this. Fulfilled prophecy specifically, as it points to Christ, that's the difference. That's why... How we know that Christianity is different than any other religion there is in the world, this is something they cannot do. II. The Lord Stirs Up a Conqueror to Do His Bidding (vs. 1-7) Now, let's look at the chapter section by section, first verses 1-7. The Lord stirs up a conqueror to do his bidding. In verses 1-7, he begins by giving a summons to all the Earth. Verse 1, "Be silent before me you islands. Let the nations renew their strength, let them come forward and speak, let us meet together at the place of judgment." Well, you heard Ira say this so beautifully. "The God of the Bible is not just the God of the west, he's the God of the whole world." Wasn't that beautiful when you heard that? I was so blessed by that. This is the God of all the Earth, even the distant coast lands, or the distant islands, and he has the authority, the power to summon them to a place of judgment. So here it's metaphorical, for, let's bring them together and let's have a debate, a discussion on me versus the idols. But it's foretaste of the real assembling of the nations that's going to happen at the end of the world, what the Bible calls Judgment Day. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ is the only God there is, and He's the God of all the Earth, and He is going to summon all nations, and they will all be gathered before Jesus and Jesus, the judge of all the Earth will separate the people into two categories, the sheep and the goats, believers and unbelievers, the righteous and the wicked. This is coming. And at that time, on that day, we'll have to give an account to God, the judge for every careless word we have spoken, Judgment Day is coming. So, verse 1 is a foretaste of the time when the judge of all the Earth will assemble all the nations, and they will have to give an account to Him, so He brings them together. God’s Claim: He Orchestrates Human History Now God makes a claim in verses 2-4 that He orchestrates history, He rules it, he runs it. It's not random, it's not an accident. Things are going according to God's plan. Look at verses 2-4, "Who has stirred up one from the East? Calling Him in righteousness to his service, he hands nations over to Him and subdues kings before him. He turns them to dust with his sword to wind blown chaff with his bow. He pursues them and moves on unscathed by a path his feet have not traveled before. Who has done this, and carried it through calling forth the generations from the beginning? I the Lord with the first of them and with the last." That's a huge statement. I am He. God is the God of every generation. This Isaiah prophecy is a prophecy for every generation. God will be with every generation right to the end of time, with every one of them. But more specifically, He's with every massive powerful conqueror who builds an empire on Earth. He's with the first of them, and He's with the last. He's the one that does it. This one from the East as I say I think is Cyrus, he's coming from the east and God says, who stirred him up to do it? The implication is that God did that. God stirred up Cyrus and moved him out. Well, how did you do that? Well, God controls human history by controlling human minds and hearts. He has the power to do that. God actually has the right to invade your mind and do what He wills with. It doesn't make us robots, that's way too simplistic. What it means is that God controls people's hearts and the king's heart is like a water coursing, the hands of the Lord, he directs it whichever way he pleases. God can do that. Well, He doesn't just direct kings' hearts, he also directs common people's hearts and all that. So how does an individual become king in his tribe among his nation? How does he rise up above his brothers, the competing princes? How does one of them get identified as the leader of his own nation first? That's long before anybody ever heard of Cyrus. But the Meads and Persians identified him and began to follow him. Why? More intelligence, better leadership qualities, certain breaks along the way, it's God that orchestrates all of these things. Who did this? Who raised him up and called him in righteousness to his service. Now, it's interesting that individual in most cases, doesn't even acknowledge the God who's doing all these things, doesn't even know that He exists, but God's doing it. There's not a square inch in God's world that He's not ruling over actively. He doesn't... He's not an absentee ruler and so, He's doing this on nations all over the Earth, all the time. And he raises them up. And He does it in righteousness. You see, the man's motives may be thoroughly wicked and corrupt and God will judge him for those motives. But God's motives are righteous. He knows what he's doing in redemptive history, and he's raising up guys, like Cyrus and giving them kingdoms for his own purposes. He is one from the east, and he's given a gift of military conquest. By his sword and his bow, he turns his enemies into dust. But he himself moves on unscathed it says. He's not touched, he's not wounded, he's certainly not killed. Great leaders frequently expose themselves to great danger on the battlefield. They do so with an arrogant sense of their own immortality, or invincibility, for that attitude God will judge them. But it happens time and time again, these great military leaders just seem to be completely fearless. You see this again and again, if you know anything about military history. Alexander The Great did this, he jumped over a wall into a fortress alone and fought by himself, because he was disgusted by his own soldiers who weren't following his lead. He was ready to die at that moment. Shamed, his other soldiers followed and saved his life. He was severely wounded. But he never died from battlefield wounds. At one battle George Washington's coat was filled riddled with bullet holes, but he wouldn't come off the battle, battlefield. Douglas MacArthur landed, and there were just still snipers, it was still dangerous and there were bullets around his feet kicking up sand. Now, it could be argued if they get knocked off we'd never hear about him. True, good point. They die early in their military career, we never hear about them. They don't make it into the Encyclopedia Britannica. But they... This, it clearly says, Cyrus moves on unscathed by a path his feet have not traveled before. He came from the east and went over and conquered Lydia and its wealthy king Croesus got all his gold and then moved from the north down to conquer Babylon. So both of these things are fulfilled in verse 25, both directions. Look at verse 25. "I have raised up one from the north, and he comes, a one from the east who invokes my name." Which is it? Is he from the north or from the east? From both. He originally came from the east, he moves across conquers Lydia and then comes down from the north to conquer Babylon. But in all of this God's activity is highlighted. Who did this? It's God who does this. The God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, He is the one who stirs up and give them victory. God hands nations over to him. The fear of the nations is there in verse 5, "The islands have seen it in fear, the ends of the Earth tremble." And they turn to their idols for courage. Verse 5-7, "They approach and come forward, each helps the other and says to his brother, 'Be strong.' The craftsman encourages the goldsmith, and he who smooths with his hammer spurs on him who strikes the anvil. He says of the welding, 'It is good.' He nails down the idol, so it won't topple. Good thing, don't want your idols to topple. I mean, the God of the Bible doesn't grow weary. He has infinite power, he doesn't need to be nailed down so he won't topple. And so, God's clearly mocking these idols here. So, oh, Israel, oh my people, do you not see how foolish and worthless idols are? Worship the true God of the Bible. III. The Lord Defeats Israel’s Enemies (vs. 8-16) Next section, in verses 8-16, we see the Lord defeating Israel's enemies, there's a clear contrast between the pagan idolatrous nations who turn to their idols for strength and help, and Israel, who is descended from Abraham, God's friend. Look at verses 8-16. Start at verse 8-9, "But you, O Israel, my servant, Jacob whom I have chosen, you descendants of Abraham, my friend, I took you from the ends of the Earth, from its farthest corners I called you, I said, 'You are my servant'; I have chosen you, and have not rejected you." God's unconditional election of Israel sets them apart from the other pagan nations of the world. Sets them apart. So they're turning to their idols for help, Israel turns to the true and living God for assistance. Isn't it beautiful in verse 8. He calls them the Jews. You descendants of Abraham, my friend. Isn't that amazing? The God of the Bible, the God who measures the Cosmos with the span of His hand, calls Abraham who's he, flesh and blood calls him His friend. He says, concerning Sodom and Gomorrah, "Shall I hide from Abraham what I'm about to do?" He involves Abraham in what He's doing. He draws him into an intercessory relationship. He draws him into a loving relationship. This is fulfilled for us in Christ, isn't it? Doesn't that say in John 15, "Greater love has no one than this, that he lay down his life for his friends. You are my friends, if you do what I command. I no longer call you servants because a servant does not know his master's business. Instead, I have call you friends, for everything I learned from the Father, I have made known to you." We were created to be an intimate relationship with the Eternal God of the universe. He in Christ calls you and I, His friends. Actually though in the resurrection, after the Resurrection, Jesus goes even beyond that. He says them to go and tell the brothers that he is going to go ahead of them in Galilee and there they will see him. Calls them brothers, so we are his brothers and sisters, we are members of his family, adopted sons and daughters of the living God. How beautiful is that? And so, the application in verse 10 is plain. Do not fear, in the verse 10. "So do not fear for I am with you. Do not be dismayed, for I am your God, I will strengthen you and help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." How easy it would be for Israel in exile to think that God has forsaken them? How easy it would be? But he said, "Do not be afraid for I am with you, and I will strengthen you and I will uphold you by my righteous right hand." Jesus has put it plainly in this way, "I will never leave you, nor will I forsake you." And so, whatever God has planned for you and it might involve great pain, you know that, don't you? God uses pain to sanctify us, but whatever he wants to bring you through he's going to hold you by His righteous right hand, and never leave you or forsake you. And so, God has made this commitment to crush Israel's enemies by transforming Israel from the core of their being. God’s Commitment: To Crush Israel’s Enemies by Transforming Israel Look at verses 11-16, "All who rage against you, [speaking about Israel] will surely be ashamed and disgraced. Those who oppose you, will be as nothing and perish. Though you search for your enemies, you will not find them. Those who war against you will be as nothing at all for I am the Lord your God, who takes hold of your right hand and says to you, do not fear, I will help you." Verse 14, "Do not be afraid, O worm Jacob, oh little Israel, for I myself will help you declares the Lord your redeemer, the Holy One of Israel." Verse 15, "Behold, I will make you into a threshing sledge, new and sharp with many teeth, and you will thresh the mountains and crush them and reduce the hills to chaff. You will winnow them and the wind will pick them up and the gale will blow them away. But you will rejoice in the Lord in glory, in the Holy One of Israel." So here, God takes on Israel's enemies. So I'm going to crush your enemies. I'm going to take on your enemies and I'm going to defeat them and there will come a time oh Israel that you will search for your enemies and you won't be able to find any of them. There will be none. They'll all be gone, that's what He says in these verses. Well, if you look at the history of the Jewish people from the time of the Babylonian invasion, until this very day, has been what Jesus called the times of the Gentiles. They've been under Gentile domination and even in the promised land, up to this present time. So these words have not been fulfilled, there's really no stretch of time in which Israel could say, "You will look... They looked for their enemies, they couldn't find any of them, they're all gone." That has not happened to this present day. So what is it talking about? Dear friends, I believe this is immediately talking about the sacrifice of Christ on the cross and His resurrection, and beyond that, the coming new heaven and new Earth, and the kingdom of God in which we will look for enemies, and not find any. And the gates of the new Jerusalem will stand open forever, because there's no threat. And all of the wicked that would not love God or serve him or believe in Christ will be removed separated like chaff from the wheat. And so the image here is of Israel being made into a threshing sledge, new and sharp, what is that? I have no idea. So I looked it up. Threshing sledge is used for threshing. What's that? Threshing is the separation of the wheat that you can use from the chaff that you can't use. And so, the sledge is this heavy thing with like, metal discs or something that's dragged across the wheat and pulverizes it, and then it can be threshed and separated. So Israel becomes in human history the separator, the separator of wheat from chaff. How does that work? Well, what Jesus said to the Samaritan woman, salvation is from who? The Jews. And in Christ comes the fork in the road for the human race. And in Christ alone comes the separation from wheat to chaff. As John the Baptist said, he will clear his threshing floor, gathering up the wheat into his barn but burning up the chaff with unquenchable fire. Israel, though warm, though small, though weak will become the issue for the world, ultimately in the person of Christ. That's the best I can make out, of verses 11-16. If you have a different theory, let me know, but I think it harmonize with what's actually happening in Israel's history. But look forward to the day, think about this, the day when you, as a Christian will look around, in the new Earth, you'll walk around and you will not be able to find any enemies at all. They'll all be gone. No satanic enemies or demonic enemies, no human enemies, they'll all be gone. You will search for them, but you will not find them, that's coming in Christ. IV. The Lord Transforms Nature and Refreshes His People (vs. 17-20) And so in verses 17-20, The Lord will transform nature and refresh his people. "The poor and needy search for water, but there is none. Their tongues are parched with thirst, but I, the Lord will answer them, I, the God of Israel will not forsake them. I will make rivers flow on barren heights and springs within the valleys. I will turn the desert into pools of water and the parts ground into springs. I'll put in the desert, the cedar and the acacia, the myrtle and the olive. I will set pines in the wasteland. The fir and the Cypress together, so that my people may see and know, may consider and understand that the hand of the Lord has done this, the Holy One of Israel has created it." Well, let me summarize the image here. The image here is of desert conditions in which there's nothing growing, desert conditions, there's no water suddenly transformed by a flow of heavenly water that changes everything into a lush garden of Eden. That's what those words are talking about. So what is the desert? Well, I think it's both physical and spiritual. By the way, do you notice how often I do that again and again? It's both physical and spiritual, it's both physical and spiritual. I say that again and again with Isaiah. There is an immediate fulfillment that has to do with Israel in space and time, and then there's a spiritual fulfillment in Christ that has to do with the gospel. I think that's the only Christian interpretation you can do for these Old Testament prophecies. There is an immediate fulfillment. Israel, when Joshua entered with the Jews and they took over, was described in this way, a land flowing with what? Milk and honey. Joshua was told, Moses was told, "You know, the promised land is not like Egypt where you had to irrigate with a foot pump." Frankly, Egypt was known as a pretty lush bountiful place, it was constantly cranking out bread for Rome and other places. But you still had to irrigate. He said, "No, no, it's better than that. It drinks in the rain year round, it's lush, it's a land flowing with milk and honey." Yeah, but by the time the idolatrous Jews got done with it, it was like a desert. And God said, He would do this before they even entered. He said, "If you go in there and if you get dragged into the sins of the surrounding nations and you start worshipping Baal and Molech and all these other false gods, I'll tell you what I'm going to do." Deuteronomy 28:23 and 24, "The sky over your head will be bronze, the ground beneath you will turn to iron, the Lord will turn the reign of your country into dust and powder, it will come down from the skies until you are destroyed." If you look at a satellite photo of Palestine now, it doesn't look like a land flowing with milk and honey to me, I think it's under judgment. Isn't this the very thing that happened at the Garden of Eden? Don't you remember, when Adam ate the fruit and God judged him? He said cursed is what? The ground, because of you. And so, this whole Earth lies under a curse, this whole created order lies under a curse. Israel itself was turned into a desert physically. So what is God going to do? He's going to rain down water on it. Physical water? Sure. But I think of a better water than that. If you look at Isaiah 44:3, you can turn there or just listen. There he clearly links the pouring out of water as the giving of the Holy Spirit. Isaiah 44:3, he says, "For I will pour water on the thirsty land and streams on the dry ground, I will pour out my Spirit on your offspring and my blessing on your descendants." That's that Hebrew parallelism, pour out water on the dry land, I'll pour out Spirit on you. And so, yes, I believe that God, that this Earth after it's done with all its fiery judgments will be so resurrected and transformed, it will be lush, better than the garden of Eden. But even better, we will be transformed because we, in our sin, we are like in the desert. Do you know what I'm talking about? Have you ever felt that way? Things so dry for me spiritually. I feel so distant from God. I feel like I'm walking through the Sahara. And so David puts it in this way, in Psalm 63:1, he says, "O God, you are my God, earnestly, I seek you. My soul thirsts for you, my body longs for you, in a dry and weary land where there is no water." He is parched spiritually. The answer is redemption through faith in Christ, and the gift of the indwelling Holy Spirit. And He's going to pour out rain and refresh you. And he's going to give you foretaste of heaven. He is the deposit guaranteeing your future inheritance, your fellowship with God. And you can drink in the Spirit any time. That's what's going on in 17-20. And so Garden of Eden language means that paradise will be restored. Look at 19 and 20, "I will put in the desert the cedar and the acacia, the myrtle and the olive. I will set pines in the wasteland, the fir and the cypress together, so that people may see and know, may consider and understand, that the hand of the LORD has done this, that the Holy One of Israel has created it." And so, God will bring about a new heaven and a new Earth. V. The Lord Alone Determines and Declares the Future (vs. 21-29) Now, verses 21-29, we covered at the beginning. God alone determines and declares the future and we would add a third word, performs it. He does it, he determines it, decrees it as a sovereign King, and then he declares some of it through the prophets, not all, but just enough to know he's on the job and he knows what's happening and then he performs all of it. So verses 21-24, "'Present your case,' says the LORD. 'Set forth your arguments,' says Jacob's King. 'Bring in your idols to tell us what is going to happen. Tell us what the former things were, so that we may consider them and know their final outcome. Or declare to us the things to come, tell us what the future holds, so we may know that you are gods. Do something, whether good or bad, so that we will be dismayed and filled with fear. But you are less than nothing and your works are utterly worthless; he who chooses you is detestable.'" Well, we've covered this. Baal, Molech, Osiris, Isis, Iris, Isis, Jupiter, Zeus, Thor, all of these false gods don't exist, they are storefronts for demons. All of them. The idols are storefronts for demons, the demons do exist. And so, demons are god and goddess impersonators. 1 Corinthians 10:20 says the sacrifices of pagans are offered to demons, not to God. But you know what, demons are just fallen angels and you know what, angels don't know the future. It says in 1 Peter, even angels long to look into these things, they're wondering what's happened. The good angels are celebrating when new things happen, like when Jesus was born, like, "Whoa, that's awesome." They're celebrating and they're wanting to know what's coming next. In the Book of Daniel Chapter 12. They're saying, "Okay, what's good? What's the outcome? What's happening?" They don't know. Only God knows and those who listen to what God says. Now, both past and future are inexplicable apart from God. The idols can't even tell us what the past things were. It's really hard to know the past. Any historian knows how hard it is to find out what really happened. Any trial attorney knows or judges know how hard it is to get the history of what actually happened. But even more than that, so what? All this stuff happened, what did it add up to? Tell us what the former things are so that we can figure out their final outcome. You can't do that. So, all of history lies under God to interpret for us. That's what these verses are saying, and we can't interpret it apart from the finished work of Christ on the cross. And so, God is acting in history to bring about His purposes, including raising up this conqueror, Cyrus the Great to come from the east and the north to destroy Babylon, verse 25. And God is the only one to foretell these events because he's the only one who ordained them and would bring them to pass, verses 26-28. No one else told it, no one foretold it, God alone predicted the future and made it happen. Why did he do this? So that we would believe in Him. Same thing as the miracles of Jesus, He did it so we would believe in Him. Jesus said it plainly in John 14-29, "I've told you this now before it happens so that when it does happen, you will believe that I am He." That's why predictive prophecy was given so that we would believe in God. VI. Applications So what application? First and foremost, come to Christ, that's the point of all of this. All prophecy leads to Jesus, not to Cyrus the Great. Friends, Cyrus the Great is dead. And it's really, really hard to find his mausoleum burial place. His empire is gone, it's been superseded by the Greeks, which have been superseded by the Romans. I don't need to continue. They're all gone, they're all dust in the wind. But Jesus is risen from the dead and lives forever. He came for sinners like you and me, trust in Him. But guarantee there's someone listening to me here in this vast assembly that is a non-Christian, that came in here, unforgiven under the wrath of God. I plead with you, trust in Christ. You don't need to do any good works. You just need to repent and believe and trust that Jesus is your savior and that God raised him from the dead. Secondly, dear Christian brothers and sisters, stand in awe at a God who controls history like that, who makes prophecies and fulfills. Just stand in awe of Him, worship Him, and stand in awe at His ability to predict the future. And proclaim it to skeptics. Go look for someone this week that says, "What's the difference between Christianity and all the other religions?" Say, "Fulfilled prophecy." There you go, just right away, just say, "Fulfilled prophecy," especially the prophecies of Christ. And just start with your own skeptical heart. Let's just start there, okay? If you're ever tempted to doubt, is it really true? Go to this? The Word of God is a miracle, fulfilled prophecy points to it. And then ultimately, if I could say, "Do not fear for God is with you." Look again at verse 10, I'd urge you to memorize it. If you're only memorizing individual verses, memorize the whole chapter, although after this sermon you're like, "No, I don't think so." 29 verses, it's a long chapter. So, just do verse 10, "Do not fear for I am with you. Do not be afraid for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you, I will uphold you with my righteous right hand." You don't know what the future holds, you don't know what's coming. It might be what you think is more than you can bear. God knows what you can bear. He's been ahead of you already, he knows the future and he is telling you in effect, you could picture him going out to the future and coming back from it and saying your future in Christ is infinitely bright. So do not be afraid of what's coming. You may hurt. You may weep. You may go through trials, but I have measured all of those trials and I've captured all of your tears in my bottle. Everything will tend toward your final salvation. Do not be afraid, I am with you. Close with me in prayer.