Podcasts about Naka

This episode we are covering the end of the reign of Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou.  We cover the events in the Chronicles, including the death of Nakatomi no Kamatari, the creation of the Fujiwara family, the destruction of Goguryeo, and the continued development of the Baekje refugees. For more, check out the podcast blog at: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-128 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 128: Immigrants, Princes, and High Officials. There was a pall over the house, despite the visiting royal retinue creating something of a stir,.  While craftspeople were still hard at work repairing damage from the lightning strike only a few months earlier, that wasn't the reason for the low spirits.  Rather, the house was worried for their patriarch, the Naidaijin, Nakatomi no Kamatari.  He had fallen ill, and despite all the pleas to the kami and the Buddhas , it seemed the end might be near. And so even the sovereign himself had come.  Kamatari was not just a loyal official, but  a close friend of the sovereign, someone who had been there since the beginning.  And so we can imagine how Naka no Oe felt.  He may have been the sovereign of Yamato, but he was still a human being, visiting his friend of some 30 or so years, knowing that for all of the power that he held, there was nothing he could do against the ravages of time and disease.     The year is 668—Naka no Oe has moved the capital to Ohotsu, on the banks of Lake Biwa, and has formally assumed the throne. This episode we are going to cover the last several years of Naka no Oe's reign.  In contrast to last week's dive into Yamato science, this week is going to be a bit of a grab bag, looking at what was going on in Yamato and talking about what was recorded in the Chronicles. And for the most part, the entries for the rest of the year 668 are fairly normal, and yet there are some oddities… For instance, in the fourth month we are told that Baekje sent Mitosapu and others to offer tribute.  And any other time that would be just a normal thing.  Except that at this point in history, Baekje was about as going a concern as a parrot in a Monty Python sketch.  So if the Kingdom of Baekje was no longer a thing, who was it that was sending the tribute? Most likely it was the Baekje communities in exile living in the archipelago.  Remember how many of them had settled around Biwa and in 666, two thousand Baekje people were settled somewhere in the East.  These immigrants  were still being supported by the Yamato government, who were basically subsidizing their settlement for the first three years, during which time they would be expected to make it into a permanent settlement. Based on the way the Chronicles talk about it, these early Baekje communities sound like they were maintaining a kind of kingdom in exile.  With many immigrants from Baekje living together in proximity, they were likely keeping their own groups, with their own language and traditions, at least for now.  It would be interesting to know if there were specific Baekje settlements that have been identified through the archaeological record.   That said, we definitely see Baekje's mark on the archipelago: Physically, there are the Baekje style castles, and various temples following Baekje style layouts.  Of course there were also continental building styles, but some of that was shared across multiple cultures at this point, and one should consider how much Baekje influence might have been found in things that we later see as Japanese. Additionally, Baekje nobles were involved in the court, often given court rank based in part on their rank in Baekje, though it wasn't quite equivalent.  Still,  in time, some of the nobles would trace their lineages back to Baekje nobles and princes. Speaking of princes and Baekje, on the fifth day of the fifth month of 668 —a day that would come to be known as Ayame no hi, or Tango no Sekku, one of the major days of court ceremony—Naka no Oe went out hunting on the moor of Kamafu, known today as Gamou district, near Kanzaki, where 400 Baekje people had been settled.  He was out there with the Crown Prince, his younger brother, aka Prince Ohoama, and all the other princes and ministers.  A grand outing. A month later, however, tragedy struck.  One “Prince Ise” and his younger brother died on consecutive days.  While this was undoubtedly a blow to the court, the interesting thing for our purposes – which also highlights the challenge of interpreting the Chronicles is that we aren't exactly sure who this is referring to.  It's not the first time we've seen this title: we first see a “Prince Ise” show up around 650, during the presentation of the white pheasant that ushered in the Hakuho era, but we later see that that individual had passed away in 661.  We also see the name show up less than 20 years later in the Chronicles for another prince, so this can't be the same.  So this is clearly a position or title for a prince, but it isn't clear if it was passed down or inherited.   One possibility is that “Prince Ise” or “Prince of Ise” was a title for one of the royal sons. IAt this point in the narrative, Naka no Oe had three sons.  Prince Takeru had passed away at the age of 8, but he also had Prince Kawajima, Prince Shiki, and Prince Iga, aka Prince Ohotomo, all sons of “palace women”.  We know, though, that these princes show up later, so I don't think the so-called Prince Ise was one of them.  Perhaps another line?   The term “Prince” might also refer to something other than a royal son.  You see, English translators have often been somewhat cavalier with the way we tend to render titles.  The English term “Prince” has  been used for “Hiko”, “Miko”, or “Ou” (which was probably pronounced “Miko” in many of these cases).  And in English, we often think of “Prince” as the son of a king, but “Prince” can also be an independent ruler of a principality, or may just refer to a person with power in a monarchic state.  Even the term “king” is not unambiguous—early European accounts of Japan during the Warring States period often refer to the various daimyou as “kings”, given the often absolute dominion with which they apparently ruled their particular domains. At this time, the term “Miko”  (also pronounced “ouji”, or “koushi”, or even “sume-miko”) seems rather unambiguously to refer to a “royal prince”, from the lineage of the sovereign.  The term “Ou”, which also seems to be read as “Miko” in some cases, is also the term for “King” and probably more broadly fits the concept of a “prince” as a ruler.  However, in this case, it seems to be equal to the term “Miko”, and may have been used almost interchangeably for a time, though later it would be used to refer to members of princely rank who were not directly related to a reigning sovereign—the grandchildren and so forth of royal princes who did not go on to inherit. In this case, I think the best we can say for certain is that Prince Ise—or the Prince of Ise—was someone important enough to be included in the chronicles – but who he was, exactly, will remain a mystery for now. The following month, the 7th month, was chock full of activities.  First of all, Goguryeo sent envoys by way of Koshi—meaning they landed on the Japan Sea side, probably around Tsuruga.  While this may just have been closer, I suspect it meant they avoided any Tang entanglements traveling through the Bohai sea.  They did run into a spot of trouble, however, as the winds and waves prevented their return. Koshi also shows up as presenting some strange gifts to the court:  burning earth and burning water.  There is some thought that maybe this is something like coal or natural oil deposits. We are also told that in this month, Prince Kurikuma was appointed the governor of Tsukushi.  Kurikuma no Ou appears to have been the grandson—or possibly great-grandson—of the sovereign, Nunakura, aka Bidatsu Tennou.  The position Kurikuma was given was important, of course, overseeing the Dazai, which meant overseeing anyone traveling to the archipelago from the continent. This would be a relatively short-lived appointment—this time.  He would be re-appointed about three years later, which would prove important, as he would be governor there during some particularly momentous events.    Stories appear to have continued about him in the Nagasaki region, and various families traced their lineage back to him. Also in that month, we are told that Afumi, home of the new capital, practiced military exercises—likely in preparation in case of a future Tang or Silla invasion.  Recall we discussed in Episode 126 how the choice of Afumi as a capital site might have been related to its defensibility in the event of such an invasion. At the same time, the court entertained Emishi envoys, and the toneri, by royal command, held banquets in various places. There is also mention of a shore-pavillion, presumably at Lake Biwa, where fish of various kinds came, covering the water.  Interestingly enough, there is another story of a “shore pavilion”, likely the same one, in the Fujiwara Family Record, the Toushi Kaden.  We are told that Prince Ohoama – Naka no Oe's younger brother spiked a large spear through a plank of wood in some kind of feat of strength.  This apparently shocked Naka no Oe, who saw it aa  kind of threat—perhaps seeing that his five-years younger brother was still hale and healthy.  Granted, Naka no Oe was only in his 40s, but his brother Ohoama was in his later 30s.  We are also told that at this time, in 668, Naka no Oe was apparently not doing so well, with people wondering if he would be with them much longer. The Toshi Kaden account seems rather surprising in that it claims Naka no Oe was so shocked by this proof of his brother's vitality that he wanted to have him put to death, suggesting to me that he felt that Ohoama might be a threat to him and his rule.  Ultimately, though, he was talked out of this by his old friend, Nakatomi no Kamatari – the one whom he had plotted with to overthrow the Soga, and whose relationship was initiated by an interaction on the kemari field, as we discussed in Episode 106. Speaking of whom: Nakatomi no Kamatari was still Naijin, the Inner or Interior Minister, and so  quite prominent in the administration. In the 9th month, as a Silla envoy was visiting the court, Kamatari sent Buddhist priests Hoben and Shinpitsu to present a ship to the Prime Minister of Silla, which was given to the Silla envoy and his companions, and three days later, Fuse no Omi no Mimimaro was sent with a ship meant for the King of Silla as well. This incident is also recounted in the Toshi Kaden.  In this case it says that the people, hearing about the gifts to Silla, were quite upset.  After all, it stands to reason:  Yamato was still smarting from their defeat at the hands of Tang and Silla forces, and building up defenses in case of an attack.  They'd also taken in a number of Baekje nobles and families, who may have also had some influence on the court.  We are told that Kamatari himself excused all of this by stating that “All under heaven must be the sovereign's land.  The guests within its borders must be the sovereign's servants.”  In this case, all under heaven, or “Tenka”, is a common phrase used to describe a monarch's sovereignty over everything in the land.  And so, while Silla envoys were in Yamato as guests, they also fell under similar rules, and as such were considered, at least by Yamato, as the sovereign's servants and thus worthy of gifts. The Silla envoys stayed for over a month.  They finally departed by the 11th month of 668, carrying even more gifts, including silk and leather for the King and various private gifts for the ambassadors themselves.  The court even sent Chimori no Omi no Maro and Kishi no Woshibi back with the envoy as Yamato envoys to the Silla court. This all tells us that just as the Tang were working to woo Yamato, Silla was likely doing so as well.  And while Yamato might still begrudge the destruction of Baekje, they also had to face the political reality that Baekje was probably not going to be reinstated again—especially not while the Tang government was occupying the peninsula. So making nice with both Tang and Silla was prudent. Furthermore, though they had been visited by Goguryeo envoys earlier that year, Yamato may have had some inkling that Goguryeo was not in the most powerful position.  Ever since the death of Yeon Gaesomun, the Goguryeo court had been involved in infighting—as well as fighting their external enemies.  One of Gaesomun's sons had been exiled and had gone over to the Tang, no doubt providing intelligence as well as some amount of legitimacy.  What they may not have known was that as Yamato was hosting the Silla envoys, a new assault by the Tang-Silla alliance was advancing on Pyongyang and setting siege to the city.  The Nihon Shoki records that in the 10th month of 668 Duke Ying, the Tang commander-in-chief, destroyed Goguryeo. This would dramatically change the international political landscape.  Tang and Silla had been triumphant—Yamato's allies on the peninsula had been defeated, and what we know as the “Three Kingdoms” period of the Korean peninsula was over.  However, the situation was still fluid.  The peninsula was not unified by any sense of the imagination.  The Tang empire had their strategic positions from which they controlled parts of the peninsula and from which they had been supplying the war effort against Goguryeo.  They also likely had to occupy areas to ensure that nobody rose up and tried to reconstitute the defeated kingdoms.  In fact, there would be continued attempts to revive Goguryeo, as might be indicated in the name we use: by the 5th century, the country was actually using the name “Goryeo”, a shortened form of “Goguryeo”, but we continue to refer to it as “Goguryeo” to distinguish it from the country of the same name that would be established in 918, laying claim to that ancient Goguryeo identity. A bit of spoilers, but “Goryeo” is where we would eventually get the name that we know the region by, today:  “Korea”.  In the Nihon Shoki it is referred to as “Gaori”. But none of that could have been known at the time.  Instead, there was no doubt some exuberance on the side of both Silla and Tang, but that would settle into something of unease.  With Baekje and Goguryeo destroyed, Silla may have thought that Tang would leave, allowing them to solidify their hold and manage those territories as an ally.  If this is what they thought, though, I'm not sure they had run it by the Tang empire just yet. In the Yamato court, there appear to have been separate factions: a pro-Tang faction, and also a pro-Silla faction.  We have to assume, based on the actions in the record at this time, that this was a ongoing debate. The last thing I'll note for the year 668 is attempted theft.  The Buddhist priest Dougyou stole Kusanagi, the famous sword forming part of the imperial regalia, and escaped with it.  Kusanagi, you may recall, was the royal sword.  It was named “Kusanagi” or “grass cutter” because it is said that when Prince Yamato Takeru was subduing the eastern lands, he was surrounded in a field that had been set on fire, and he used Kusanagi to create a firebreak by cutting down all of the grass around him.  The sword was given to him by Yamato Hime, the Ise Princess at the time, and it was thought to have been first found by the god Susanowo inside of the legendary Yamata no Orochi.  We talked about this in Episodes 16, 34, and 35.  Yamato Takeru left the sword in Owari, and it would eventually live there, at Atsuta Jingu, Atsuta Shrine, its traditional home. It isn't clear if Dougyou obtained the sword from Owari or if it was being kept in the capital at the time.  It would have likely been brought out for Naka no Oe's coronation, but then it would probably have been returned to the shrine that was holding it. Dougyou tried to head to Silla with his illicit goods, but wind and rain forced him to turn back around.  This is a fascinating story and there's a lot to dive into here. So first off, let's point out that this is supposed to be a Buddhist priest.  What the heck was going on that he was going to try to run a heist on what are essentially the Crown Jewels of the Yamato crown?  While the sword, mirror, and jewel were still somewhat questionable as the sole three regalia, they were clearly important.  We aren't given Dougyou's motives.  We don't know enough about him.  Was he anti-Yamato or anti-Naka no Oe?  Was he actually a Buddhist priest of his own accord, or was he a priest because he was one of those who had been essentially conscripted into religious orders on behalf of some powerful noble?  Was he a Buddhist who wanted to attack the hold of the kami? Was he pro-Silla, or perhaps even a Silla descendant, trying to help Silla? Or was he just a thief who saw the sword, Kusanagi, as a valuable artifact that could be pawned outside of Yamato? That last possibility feels off.  While we aren't exactly sure what Kusanagi looked like, based on everything we know, the sword itself wasn't necessarily blinged out in a way that would make it particularly notable on the continent.    And if Dougyou and whoever his co-conspirators were just wanted to attack the Yamato government, why didn't he just dump Kusanagi in the see somewhere?  He could have destroyed it or otherwise gotten rid of it in a way that would have embarrassed the government. It seems mostly likely that this theft had something to do with pro-Silla sentiment, as if Silla suddenly showed up with the sword, I imagine that would have been some diplomatic leverage on the Yamato court, as they could have held it hostage.  In any case, the plan ultimately failed, though the Chronicles claim it was only because the winds were against him—which was likely seen as the kami themselves defending Yamato. On to a new year.  At the start of 669, Prince Kurikuma (who we mentioned above) was recalled to the capital and Soga no Akaye was appointed governor of Tsukushi. We mentioned Akaye a couple of episodes back.  He was involved in the broken arm-rest incident, where Prince Arima was plotting against Takara Hime, aka Saimei Tennou, and Akaye's daughter Hitachi no Iratsume, was one of the formal wives of Naka no Oe, who would give birth to the princess Yamabe. Now Akaye was given the position of governor of Tsukushi. This position is an interesting one throughout Japanese history.  In many ways it is a viceroy—the governor of Tsukushi has to effectively speak with the voice of the sovereign as the person responsible for overseeing any traffic to and from the continent.  This also was likely a highly lucrative position, only handed out to trusted individuals. However, it also meant that you were outside of the politics of the court.  Early on that was probably less of a concern.  At this time, court nobles were likely still concerned with their traditional lands, which created their economic base, meaning that the court may have been the political center, but there was still plenty of ways to gain power in the archipelago and it wasn't solely through the court.  Over time, as more and more power accrued to the central court government, that would change.  Going out to manage a government outpost on the far end of the archipelago—let alone just going back to manage one's own estates—would be tantamount to exile.  But for now, without a permanent city built up around the palace, I suspect that being away from the action in the capital wasn't quite as detrimental compared to the lucrative nature of a powerful position.  Later, we will see how that flips on its head, especially with the construction of capitals on the model of those like Chang'an. For now, new governor Soga no Akaye was likely making the most of his position.  On that note, in the third month of 669, Tamna sent their prince Kumaki with envoys and tribute.  They would have come through Tsukushi, and Soga no Akaye likely enjoyed some benefits as they were entertained while waiting for permission to travel the rest of the way down to the Yamato capital.  The Tamna embassy did not exactly linger at the court.  They arrived on the 11th of the 3rd month, and left one week—seven days—later, on the 18th.  Still, they left with a gift of seed-grain made to the King of Tamna. On their way out, they likely would have again stopped in at Tsukushi for provisions and to ensure that all of their business was truly concluded before departing. A couple of months later, on the 5th day of the 5th month, we see another hunting party by Naka no Oe.  This seems to have been part of the court ritual of the time for this ceremonial day.  This time it was on the plain of Yamashina.  It was attended by his younger brother, Crown Prince Ohoama, as well as someone called “Fujiwara no Naidaijin” and all of the ministers. “Fujiwara no Naidaijin” is no doubt Nakatomi no Kamatari.  This is an interesting slip by the Chroniclers, and I wonder if it gives us some insight into the source this record came from.  Kamatari was still known as Nakatomi at the time, and was still the Naidaijin, so it is clear they were talking about him.  But historically his greatest reputation is as the father of the Fujiwara family, something we will get to in time.  That said, a lot of the records in this period refer to him as “Fujiwara”.  We've seen this previously—because the records were being written later they were often using a more common name for an individual, rather than the name—including title—that the individual actually would have borne at the time of the record.  This really isn't that different from the way we often talk about the sovereigns using their posthumous names.   Naka no Oe would not have been known as “Tenji Tennou” during his reign.  That wouldn't be used until much later.  And yet, many history books will, understandably, just use the name “Tenji” because it makes it clear who is being talked about. This hunting trip is not the only time we see the name “Fujiwara” creep into the Chronicles a little earlier than accurate: we are told that only a little later, the house of “Fujiwara” no Kamatari was struck by lightning.  But that wasn't the only tragedy waiting in the wings.  Apparently, Kamatari was not doing so well, and on the 10th day of the 10th month, his friend and sovereign, Naka no Oe, showed up to pay his respects and see how he was doing. Ever since that fateful game of kemari—Japanese kickball—the two had been fast friends.  Together they envisioned a new state.  They overthrew the Soga, and changed the way that Japan even conceived of the state, basing their new vision off continental ideas of statehood, governance, and sovereignty.  Now, Kamatari was gravely ill. What happens next is likely of questionable veracity Sinceit is unlikely that someone was there writing down the exact words that were exchanged, but the Chronicles record a conversation between the sovereign and his ill friend.  And the words that the Chroniclers put in their mouths were more about the image that they wanted to project.  According to them, Naka no Oe praised his friend, and asked if there was anything that he could do. Kamatari supposedly eschewed anything special for burial arrangements.  He supposedly said “While alive I did no service for my country at war; why, then, should I impose a heavy burden on it when I am dead?”  Hard to know if he actually felt like that or not, or if thr Chroniclers were likening him to  Feng Yi of the Han dynasty, the General of the Great Tree.  He was so-called because he would often find a tree to take time to himself.  He likewise was renowned for his dislike of ostentation, much like Kamatari foregoing a fancy burial mound. Five days later, Naka no Oe sent Crown Prince Ohoama to Kamatari's house to confer on him the cap of Dai-shiki, and the rank of Oho-omi.  They also conferred on him and his family a new surname:  Fujiwara, and so he became Fujiwara no Daijin, the Fujiwara Great Minister.  The next day he died.  One source known as the Nihon Seiki, said that he was 50 years old, but according to the Chronicles there was an inscription on his tomb that stated he died at age 55. Three days later, we are told that Naka no Oe went to the house of the now late Fujiwara no Naidaijin, and gave orders to Soga no Akaye no Omi, declaring to him his gracious will and bestowing on him a golden incense-burner.  This is somewhat odd, because as we were just talking about, Soga no Akaye had been appointed governor of Tsukushi, though the Toshi Kaden claims that it was actually Soga no Toneri who was in Tsukushi—but these could also mean the same people.  Why this happened right after Kamatari's death suggests to me that Soga no Akaye may have had something to do with the arrangements for Kamatari's funeral or something similar. Let's talk about this whole incident.  There are many that think the Nihon Shoki has things a bit out of order, and on purpose.  Specifically, it is quite likely that the name “Fujiwara” was actually granted after Kamatari's death, and not on the day of, as it has here.  He may even have been posthumously elevated.  But since the Fujiwara family would go on to be quite powerful, the order of events and how they were recorded would have been very important in the 8th century. By naming Kamatari's line the Fujiwara, the court were effectively severing it from the rest of the Nakatomi.  The Nakatomi family would continue to serve as court ritualists, but the Fujiwara family would go on to much bigger and better things.  This change also likely meant that any inheritance of Kamatari's would go to his direct descendants, and that a brother or cousin couldn't necessarily just take over as the head of the household.  So it's very possible that this “setting apart” of the Fujiwara family immediately upon Kamatari's death is a later fiction, encouraged by the rising Fujiwara themselves, in an attempt to keep others from hanging on to their coat tails, as it were. Also a quick note about the idea that there was an inscription on Kamatari's tomb.  This is remarkable because so far, we have not actually found any such markers or tombstones on burials prior to this period.  We assume that they would have been stone or wood markers that were put up by a mound to let you know something about the person who was buried there.  Over time, most of these likely wore away.  But it is interesting to think that the practice may have had older roots. The death of Kamatari wasn't the only tragedy that year.  We are also told that in the 12th month there was a fire in the Treasury, and that the temple of Ikaruga—known to us as Houryuuji, the temple built by Shotoku Taishi—also was burnt.  It isn't said how bad, but only three months later, in 670, another fire struck during a thunderstorm, and we are told that everything burned down—nothing was left. That said, it seems that they may have been able to reuse some of the materials.  I say this because an analysis of the main pillar of the pagoda in the western compound suggests that the tree it came from was felled in 594. The rest of 699 included some less dramatic events. For instance, in the 8th month, Naka no Oe climbed to the top of Takayasu, where he took advice as to how to repair the castle there.  The castle had been built only a couple of years earlier, but already needed repairs.  However, the initial repair project had been abandoned because the labor costs were too much.  The repairs were still needed, though, and they carried out the work four months later in the 12th month, and again in the 2nd month of the following year, and that stores of grain and salt were collected, presumably to stock the castle in case they had to withstand a siege. I suspect that the “cost” of repairing the castle was mostly that it was the 8th month, and the laborers for the work would have to be taken away from the fields.  By the 12th month, I can only assume that those same laborers would be free from their other duties. Speaking of costs, sometimes the Chronicles really make you wonder what was going through the mind of the writers, because they noted that the Land-tax of the Home Provinces was collected.  Maybe this was the first time it had actually been instituted?  I don't know.  It just seems an odd thing to call out. There was also 700 more men from Baekje removed and settled in Kamafu—Gamou District—in Afumi.  And then there was a Silla embassy in the 9th month, and at some point in the year Kawachi no Atahe no Kujira and others were sent to the Tang court.  In response, an embassy from the Tang to Yamato brought 2000 people with them, headed by Guo Wucong, who I really hope was getting some kind of premiere cruiser status for all of his trips. The following year, 700, started out with a great archery meeting, arranged within the palace gate.  I presume this to mean that they had a contest.  Archery at this time—and even for years to come—was prized more highly than even swordplay.  After all, archery was used both in war and on the hunt.  It is something that even the sage Confucius suggested that people should practice.  It is also helpful that they could always shoot at targets as a form of competition and entertainment. Later, on the 14th day of the 1st month, Naka no Oe promulgated new Court ceremonial regulations, and new laws about people giving way on the roads.  This rule was that those of lower status should get out of the way of those of higher status.  Funnily enough, in the description of Queen Himiko's “Yamateg”, back in the 3rd century, this was also called out as a feature of the country.  It is possible that he was codifying a local tradition, or that the tradition actually goes back to the continent, and that the Wei Chroniclers were projecting such a rule onto the archipelago.  I'm honestly not sure which is which.  Or perhaps they expanded the rules and traditions already in place.  There were also new laws about prohibiting “heedless slanders and foul falsehoods”, which sounds great, but doesn't give you a lot to go on. The law and order theme continues in the following month.  A census was taken and robbers and vagabonds were suppressed.  Naka no Oe also visited Kamafu, where he had settled a large number of the Baekje people, and inspected a site for a possible future palace.  He also had castles built in Nagato in Tsukushi, along the route of any possible invasion from the Korean peninsula. In the third month, we have evidence of the continued importance of kami worship, when they laid out places of worship close to Miwi mountain and distributed offerings of cloth.  Nakatomi no Kane no Muraji pronounced the litany.  Note that it is Nakatomi no Muraji—as we mentioned, the Nakatomi would continue to be responsible for ceremonial litany while the Imibe, or Imbe, family would be responsible for laying out the various offerings. Miwi would seem to be the same location as Miidera, aka Onjou-ji, but Miidera wouldn't be founded for another couple of years. In the 9th month of 670, Adzumi no Tsuratari, an accomplished ambassador by this point, travelled to Silla. Tsuratari had been going on missions during the reign of Takara Hime, both to Baekje and to the lands across the “Western Seas”.  While we don't exactly know what transpired, details like this can help us try to piece together something of the relative importance of the mission. In the last entry for 670, we are told that water-mills were made to smelt iron.  If you are wondering how that works, it may have been that the waterwheel powered trip hammers—it would cause the hammer to raise up until it reached a point where it would fall.  Not quite the equivalent of a modern power hammer, it still meant that fewer people were needed for the process, and they didn't have to stop just because their arms got tired. The following year, 671, got off to a grand start, with a lot of momentous events mentioned in just the first month of the year. First off, on the 2nd day of the first month, Soga no Akaye – now back from his stint as governor of Tsukushi - and Kose no Hito advanced in front of the palace and offered their congratulations on the new year.  Three days later, on the 5th day, Nakatomi no Kane, who had provided the litany at Miwi, made an announcement on kami matters.    Then the court made official appointments.  Soga no Akaye was made the Sadaijin, or Prime Minister of the Left, and Nakatomi no Kane was made Prime Minister of the Right.  Soga no Hatayasu, Kose no Hito, and Ki no Ushi were all made daibu, or high ministers.  On top of this, Naka no Ohoe's son, Prince Ohotomo, was appointed as Dajodaijin. “Dajodaijin” is a new position that we haven't seen yet, and it is one of those positions that would only show up on occasion.  It is effectively a *Prime* Prime Minister.  They were considered superior to both the ministers of the left and the right, but didn't exactly have a particular portfolio.  The Ministers of the Left and the Right each had ministries under them that they were responsible for managing.  Those ministries made up the Daijo-kan, or the Council of State.  The Dajodaijin, or Daijodaijin, was basically the pre-eminent position overseeing the Council of State.  I suspect that the Dajodaijin seems to have been the evolution of the Naidaijin, but on steroids.  Nakatomi no Kamatari had administered things as Naidaijin from within the royal household, but the Dajodaijin was explicitly at the head of the State.  Of course, Prince Ohotomo was the son of Naka no Oe himself, and the fact that he was only 23 years old and now put in a place of prominence over other ministers who were quite likely his senior, is remarkable.  I wonder how much he actually was expected to do, and how much it was largely a ceremonial position, but it nonetheless placed Ohotomo just below his uncle, Crown Prince Ohoama, in the overall power structure of the court. Speaking of which, following the new appointments, on the 6th day of the year, Crown Prince Ohoama promulgated regulations on the behalf of his brother, Naka no Oe.  There was also a general amnesty declared, and the ceremonial and names of the cap-ranks were described in what the Chronicles calls the Shin-ritsu-ryo, the New Laws. Towards the end of the first month, there were two embassies, both from now-defunct kingdoms.  The first was from Goguryeo, who reportedly sent someone named Karu and others with Tribute on the 9th day, and 4 days later, Liu Jenyuan, the Tang general for Baekje sent Li Shouchen and others to present a memorial.  I'm not sure if the Goguryeo envoys were from a government in exile or from a subjugated kingdom under Tang and Silla domination.  The Tang general in Baekje was a little more transparent.  That said, that same month we are told that more than 50 Baekje nobles were given Yamato court rank, perhaps indicating that they were being incorporated more into the Yamato court and, eventually, society as a whole.  That said, the remains of the Baekje court sent Degu Yongsyeon and others with tribute the following month. This is also the year that Naka no Oe is said to have placed the clepsydra or water clock in a new pavilion.  We talked about this significance of this last episode.  We are also told that on the third day of the third month, Kibumi no Honjitsu presented a “water level”, a Mizu-hakari.  This would seem to be what it sounds like:  A way of making sure that a surface is level using water.  There is also mention of the province of Hitachi presenting as “tribute” Nakatomibe no Wakako.  He was only 16 years old, and yet we are told he was only one and a half feet in height—one shaku six sun, more appropriately.  Assuming modern conversions, that would have put him approximately the same height as Chandra Dangi of Nepal, who passed away in 2015 but who held the Guiness World Record for the world's shortest person at 21.5”—or 54 centimeters.  So it isn't impossible. The fact that he is called “Nakatomibe” suggests that he was part of the family, or -Be group, that served the Nakatomi court ritualists.  Unfortunately, he was probably seen more as an oddity than anything else at the time.  Still, how many people from that time are not remembered at all, in any extant record?  And yet we have his name, which is more than most. In the following month, we are also told that Tsukushi reported a deer that had been born with eight legs.  Unfortunately, the poor thing died immediately, which is unfortunately too often the case. And then the fifth day of the fifth month rolled around again. This year there was no hunting, but instead Naka no Oe occupied the “Little Western Palace” and the Crown Prince and all of the ministers attended him.  We are told that two “rustic” dances were performed—presumably meaning dances of some local culture, rather than those conforming to the art standards passed down from the continent.  As noted earlier, this day would be one of the primary ceremony days of the later court. The following month, we are told that there was an announcement in regards to military measures requested by the messengers from the three departments of Baekje, and later the Baekje nobles sent Ye Chincha and others to bring tribute.  Once again, what exactly this means isn't clear, but it is interesting to note that there were three “departments” of Baekje.  It is unclear if this was considered part of the court, or if this was Baekje court in exile managing their own affairs as a guest in Yamato. It is also interesting that they seem to have been traveling to the Yamato court while Li Shouchen was still there, sent by the Tang general overseeing Baekje.  That must have been a bit of an awkward meeting.  We are told that they all took their departure together on the 11th day of the 7th month.  Does that mean they left with the Tang envoy?  Was the Tang inviting some of them to come back?  Or just that they all left the court at the same time. The same month, Prince Kurikuma was once more made Governor of Tsukushi—or possibly made governor the first time, depending on whether or not you think the Chronicles are accurate or that they pulled the same event twice from different sources.  We are also told that Silla sent envoys with gifts that included a water buffalo and a copper pheasant for the sovereign. The 8th month of the year, we hear that Karu of Goguryeo and his people took their leave after a seven month long visit.  The court also entertained the Emishi.  Two months later, Silla sent Kim Manmol and others with more tribute, but this envoy likely found a different feeling at court. And that is because on the 18th day of the 8th month, the sovereign of Yamato, Naka no Oe, took to his bed, ill.  There was a ceremony to open the eyes of 100 Buddhas in the interior of the palace, and Naka no Oe sent messengers to offer to the giant Buddha of Houkouji a kesa, a golden begging-bowl, an ivory tusk, aloeswood, sandalwood, and various objects of value, but despite any spiritual merit that may have accrued, it didn't seem to work.  Naka no Oe's illness continued to grow more serious.  He would continue to struggle for another two months, until, on the 3rd day of the twelfth month, Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou, sovereign of Yamato, passed away. For all that we should be careful to avoid the “Great Man” theory of history, it is nonetheless hard to deny that Naka no Oe had an incredible impact on the country in his days.  From start to finish, while one could argue that many of the reforms were simply a matter of time as the archipelago absorbed more and more ideas from across the straits, Naka no Oe found himself in the middle of those reforms.  The Yamato State would never be the same, and he oversaw the birth of the Ritsuryo state, a new state nominally based on laws and rules, rather than just tradition.  It may not be entirely clear, but he also helped inculcate a new sense of the power of the sovereign and of the state, introducing new cultural imaginaries.  Yamato's reach wasn't just vague boasting, but by instituting the bureaucratic state they were able to actually expand the reach of the court farther than any time before. And through those changes, Naka no Oe had, in one way or another, been standing at the tiller.  Now, he was gone, as were many of his co-conspirators in this national project.  Which leaves us wondering:  What comes next? Well, we'll get to that, but not right now.  For now, let us close this episode with Naka no Oe's own end.   Next episode, we can get into the power struggles that followed, culuminating in an incident known as the Jinshin no Ran:  The Jinshin war. Until then, thank you once again for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  

INTERVIEW: Terina Manunui & Marōtini on Matariki Wānaka by Zac Hoffman on Radio One 91FM Dunedin

Govt Confirms 23 Killed In Apa, Naka As Herders Invade Benue Communitieshttps://osazuwaakonedo.news/govt-confirms-23-killed-in-apa-naka-as-herders-invade-benue-communitites/03/06/2025/#Nigeria Police Force #Apa #Benue #Gwer #Naka #Police ©June 3rd, 2025 ®June 3, 2025 11:15 pm Benue State Governor, Reverend Father Hyacinth Lormem Alia has confirmed the killing of 23 persons by herdsmen who invaded the Naka community and other communities in Apa and Gwer West local government areas on Sunday. #OsazuwaAkonedo

This episode we look at time and direction and the influence of geomancy--theories of Yin and Yang and a little bit of how people viewed the world through that lens.  For more, check out the blog page:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-127 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is episode 127: Time and Direction in Ancient Yamato   Officers of the court stood in the pavilion.  The soft trill of water could be heard trickling from one reservoir to the next.  They watched closely, as the figure of a court official, one hand out, pointing at a measuring stick, slowly rose along with the water.  Eventually, the figure's outstretched arm indicated a line with a single character next to it. On cue, one of the officials began to beat the large drum that was nearby.  The rhythm was slow, but deliberate, and the sound was loud, echoing out to the mountains and back, showering the nearby palaces in a layer of sound.  Across the palace, people briefly paused, took note of the number of strokes, and by that they knew the time of day.  Without giving it much more thought, they then went about their business.     This episode we find ourselves partway through the reign of Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou—his formal reign started in 668, but he had been pretty much running things since the death of Takara Hime in 661 and, arguably, for much longer than that.  668, however, saw Naka no Oe ascend the throne in his new palace of Otsu no Miya, officially making him the sovereign.  And although 645 is the year Naka no Oe and others had started the Taika Reforms, it's not wrong to say that  that 668 and the start of Naka no Oe's official reign, brief as it would be, that he finally had the ability to bring it all together and set it into stone. We've talked about many of these reforms before on the podcast, but a lot of them were associated with the continued push to incorporate continental concepts into Yamato society, covering everything from court ranks to how to organize agricultural production.  Of course, there was also Buddhism, which we've covered numerous times, but there were other concepts coming across as well, including ideas about history and writing, as well as ancient STEM—Science, Technology, Engineering, and Mathematics.  This included architects, and new ways of constructing buildings.  And it also meant ways of seeing the world, including things like directions and time.  And this is what I want to focus on this episode, taking a break from the primary narrative to spend some time on what we might call Yamato concepts of science, especially how they thought about the structure of reality organization of time and the universe – their cosmology, as it were.  After all, to better understand the reasoning and motives of people, it is helpful to try and understand how they saw the world, not just for translation—understanding what it means when an entry says something like the “Hour of the Horse” on an “Elder Wood” day—but also for understanding how things actually worked in their eyes.  For instance, the idea of ”auspicious” and “inauspicious” times and directions is something that most listeners probably don't incorporate much into their daily lives, but the Chroniclers and the people of Yamato absolutely did, so understanding concepts like this can sometimes be the key to unlocking why historical people may have taken the actions that they did.  In particular, we'll talk about things like yin and yang, five elements, ten stems and twelve earthly branches, and what all this meant for the Yamato ideas of organizing time and space. A large part of Yamato cosmology is tied to something called Onmyoudou, literally the Way of Yin and Yang, which in the organization of the Ritsuryo state fell under a particular ministry, known as the Onmyo-ryo.  If you've heard of Onmyoudou before, you likely have heard about the “Onmyouji”, practitioners who studied the flow of yin and yang—and who could reportedly do miraculous things with that.  A 10th century Onmyoji, the famous Abe no Seimei, is perhaps the most well-known, with numerous stories about his exploits, which were then turned into a fantastical series of stories by the award-winning author, Baku Yumemakura.  Those were then turned into Manga, movies, and more.  Abe no Seimei is like Japan's Merlin, or Gandalf, at least in the stories. Back to the organization we mentioned, the Onmyou-ryou was responsible for Yin-Yang theory, or Onmyou-dou, which included divination, as well as astronomy, or Tenmon-dou, and calendar making, or reki-dou.  While some of this was based on straight up natural observances, a lot of it was explained through older concepts of Yin and Yang theory.  Today, you might encounter a lot of this in the theories around Feng Shui, and this can also be referred to as “geomancy”, or earth divination.   To give a broad overview of Onbmyoudou and its origins, it is part of a large corpus of concepts focused around a concept of energy known as qi or ki—which forms the basis for a lot of Chinese and Japanese cosmology, or their concept of how the world worked.  Much of this is tied up in concepts that are modernly broadly called “Daoist” or associated with so-called Daoist practices.  That term can be a bit misleading, as strictly speaking, Daoism refers to the teachings of the legendary philosopher Laozi, in his book, the Dao De Jing, as well as works attributed to later authors, like the Zhuangzi. There is some controversy as to when and to what extent this strict Daoism came to Japan.  However, in the broader sense, the category of “Daoist “ practices includes an entire panoply of various folk practices, including concepts of Yin and Yang – and in the archipelago, many of these concepts were imported with the various books that people had acquired on the mainland, even if they weren't strictly tied to Daoist religious practice.  For example, there were aspects that were borrowed by various Shinto shrines, and others formalized into ritual practices under the new government.  And of course many of these became linked to various Buddhist teachings and practices, as well.   But what did this actually look like in concept and practice for practitioners of Onmyoudo in Japan? Let's start with the idea of yin and yang.  One of the earliest references comes from the Zhou Yi, the Zhou Book of Changes, the core of what we also know as the Yijing, the Book of Changes.  Here we see the idea that the universe began with a single force that split into two, and those two forces make up all of creation in one way or another.  Yin and Yang, or In and You—or even Onmyou—refer to these forces, which are characterized as shadow and light, moon and sun, female and male, cold and hot, etc.  So these forces are opposites, but it should be noted that they are not necessarily good or evil.  After all, too cold is just as bad as too hot.  Likewise too much darkness is as blinding as too much light. As most people have seen, yin and yang are often depicted as a circle divided into two comma shapes, with a smaller circle in each.  One side is white with a black circle and the other is black with a white circle.  This is the “Tai Chi” diagram, but the diagram itself doesn't seem to have been depicted like this prior to the 11th century, at least that we are aware. But the concepts are much older.    Now if you've heard of the Yijing, where it came from is something of a mystery.  One theory is that it started as a written account of folk wisdom, and may have even given instructions for things like when to plant and when to harvest, based on changes in various heavenly phenomena.   But overall it is organized into 64 chapters, each associated with a particular hexagram.  Start with a line, that can either be a full line – representing yang – or a broken line representing yin.  Stack three of these on top of one another and you get a trigram.  If you chart out every single possible combination of yin and yang lines, you get 8 unique trigrams, sometimes referred to as the baqua.  Stack two trigrams atop one another and you get a hexagram, a combination of 6 lines that can have 8 by 8 or 64 unique variants.   It's theorized that the Yijing resulted from taking all of the collected sayings or aphorisms and bits of advice and cataloguing and dividing them into 64 chapters, each one associated with a given hexagram. Going further, each line of the hexagram is  associated with particular line in Yijing, and various meanings are ascribed to it and its association.  It's a complex and fascinating system and I don't have time to go into it fully, but I would note that this was used as a form of divination—yarrow stalks or other means of random lot drawing that gives you a binary outcome – zero or one, yin or yang – could be used to determine the six lines of any given hexagram.  This, in turn, would reference a chapter in the Yijing which was then interpreted as a sign as to how to read a given situation that you might find yourself in. What's really important to understanding the worldview of the time is this idea, represented by the hexagrams in the Yijing, that you can encompass everything about the universe by making and cataloging different amounts and arrangements of yin and yang. It's a science, as it were – a systematic approach to understanding the differences in the world by breaking it into component parts.    And if this seems preposterous, consider this:  today we understand that all things are made up of tiny atoms.  And these atoms are all made up of the same material—protons, neutrons, and electrons.  And yet, how those atomic particles combine create atoms with wildly different qualities.  And how those atoms then combine into molecules and so on and so forth describe how we explain everything around us.  So is it really so far-fetched? I'm not saying that we should suddenly start to figure out the measurements of yin and yang in everything, but if we want to understand how the people of the time saw their world, it may be helpful to hold an open mindand understand the assumptions that they were working from and where they came from.  As human beings, we naturally look for connections in the world around us, and this was no exception.  People would observe facts, know how that it worked, and often then would back into the reason for it.  This is a tale told across cultures, and we still see it, today.  At the same time, we've developed structured approaches to test out our theories, empirically. So for the moment, let's leave the trigrams and hexagrams, and talk about another idea that also gained traction as people were trying to figure out how the world worked.  This was the five elements theory also known as Wuxing, or Gogyou, in Japanese.  The five elements in this case are Fire, Water, Wood, Metal, and Earth.  Some may notice that these, along with the sun and the moon, are used in Japanese for the days of the week:  Nichi (sun), getsu (moon), ka (fire), sui (water), moku (wood), kin (metal), do (earth). Buddhists, by the way, also had an elemental system with only four elements,  Fire, Water, Air, and Earth, possibly connected with some Greek influence, and brought along with Buddhist practice.  For now, however, let's focus on the five elements. The idea in wuxing is similar to that of yin and yang in that everything in creation is made up of these five elements in some degree and configuration.  Furthermore, there are creation and destruction cycles.  So fire creates ash, or earth.  Earth gives birth to metal.  Metal creates water—look at a cold piece of metal in a warm environment and see how the water droplets form on it, and imagine what that looks like without understanding humidity and how there could be water vapor in the air.  And then water creates wood, or plants—any farmer could tell you that without water the plants die.  And wood is where we get fire from. Of course, the reverse cycle is the opposite.  Fire eats the wood.  Wood drinks up the water.  Water rusts metal.  Metal tools plough the earth. And Earth can be used to douse fire. Finally, there is another cycle of weakening. ,. Because fire heats and weakens metal, metal chops down wood, the trees roots break up rocks, the earth soaks up water, and water likewise puts out or weakens fire. So the theory went, if these elements make up all matter, these relationships continue on a more complex scale in everything.  So if something was thought to contain a lot of “fire” element, then it would be potentially helpful if you needed “Earth” but destructive or at least weakening to metal and wood.  Properly accounting for these elements was important to achieve the results you were looking for, whatever that may be.   These were the kinds of things that were incorporated into traditional medicine practices, but also applied to auguries or divination about things like where and how to build a building.  Even today, Shrines will sell calendars that help people know the prominence of certain elements, and some folk remedies may look to balance elements, much as medieval European medicine was often designed to balance the four humors that ancient physicians believed were present in the human body. The chart of these five elements and their relationships is something you may have seen.  It is a five pointed star, often inside of a circle.  Of course this is also similar to a western pentagram, though typically drawn with the point of the star up, but it has nothing to do with Christian values or Satan, or anything similar.  Rather, it is just a way to represent these five elements, and you'll see it frequently in reference to Onmyoudou. The elements were used to categorize many different areas into groupings of five.  This includes grouping the various directions into five directions.  Of course, you may be wondering about that, since most societies usually mark four cardinal directions, and in this case, they did the same, but added the fifth as “center”.  And so you get things like the north is water.  It is related to cool, or cold weather.  It is represented with the color black. To the south, opposite of the north, is fire.  It is hot, and the color is red.  Of course, this probably doesn't take a huge leap to see the connections they drew: since these civilizations are in the northern hemisphere, the farther north you go, the colder it gets, and the farther south you travel, the warmer it gets, generally speaking, at least until you reach the equator. Meanwhile, the west was related to metal, and the color white, while the east was related to woods and forests, and the color…. Blue.  Alright, that last one, in particular, probably doesn't make sense to a lot of us.  After all, we likely associate blue with water, and wood, or trees, would be associated with brown or, possibly, green.  Well, in this case, it goes beyond that.  The north is water, but it is also associated with darkness—shorter days in the winter, and things like that Sothe association of north with black makes sense, but many also look at the ocean and don't necessarily see it as “blue”, or dark or even black, like Homer's famous “wine-dark sea”. Furthermore, although they have a word for it (midori), “green” was not a primary color in Japan, instead  considered more of a shade of “aoi”, or blue.  Even today they refer to a “green” traffic light as an “aoi shingo, not “midori” shingo.  So if you asked someone in the Asuka period to describe the wooded hills and fields, they would have likely used “aoi”.  And of course, we are missing the fifth element.  In the center we have the element earth and the color yellow. A lot of these different concepts were brought together during the Han period, when they were trying to syncretize all of the various philosophies and attempts to describe the world and bring them all together into a single system.  This meant that the Yijing, the wuxing theory, and others were mixed together with various other philosophies and theories of how the world work.  Things like the Shanhaijing, the Classic of Mountain and Seas, along with stories about immortals, the Queen Mother of the West, and more were all rolled together, and basically assumed to be true.  This included various real-world observations.  Therefore, there were many attempts to try and reconcile these various theories together. One of the other concepts, which we've discussed before, was the system of ten heavenly stems and the twelve earthly branches.  We've mentioned this before regarding the sexagenary style of counting the years, but we'll recap here.  The ten heavenly stems and the twelve earthly branches are concepts that go back to at least the legendary Shang period, and even show up in various bronzes Andit wasn't until later that they would be associated with other ideas.  The ten heavenly stems were each associated with one of the five elements, with each element being represented by a greater and lesser, or elder and younger, stem.  And then each of the twelve earthly branches were associated with animals—what we often call the Chinese Zodiac. We talked about how this applied to the calendar, in that it was used to track years in 60 year cycles, but also it was used to track days of the year.  The twelve earthly branches were also used for earthly directions.  The first, the rat, was in the north, and the order continued clockwise to the east, the south, west and then back to the north.  Now this means that the four cardinal directions—north, south, east, and west—all match up nicely with one of the twelve earthly branches, but as for northeast, southeast, southwest, and northwest?  Those were all combinations of two branches.  So, for instance, the northeast was a combination of the ox and the tiger, or ushi-tora. Speaking of eight directions, where have we also heard the number eight come up recently? That's right: the eight trigrams, or bagua.  So each one of those trigrams, each representing a different concept, got associated with a direction as well.  This makes it easier to see where practices of geomancy came from.   You had a system with complex, overlapping associations between concepts and the physical world, and in the Tang dynasty, they used all of this  to understand not only  how things had happened, but also how the world would be in the future—in other words, they tried to use it to make predictions.  Hence the “mancy”. In the Yamato state, all of this became an official part of the government under the Onmyoryou: a branch of the government whose job is to make observations and figure things out from there, for the good of the state and the people.  They made observations of the heavens to figure out how the calendar should be aligned—which months should come at what time, and when there should be “leap months”, or intercalary months, to keep various astronomical phenomena in the correct seasons, which were also further divided up into 24 periods.  They also kept track of the movement of bodies like the various planets, because those planets were also assigned values, and thought to affect the flow of energy within this framework.  And so comets, storms, eclipses, and more were all important because of the theory that everything in the heavens impacted and were reflections of how things were happening on the earth.  Similarly, these various discussions of white animals and other omens were likely captured and catalogued by these officials as well, attempting to figure out what they meant. All of this also influenced things like how palaces, buildings, and even capitals, would be built and laid out.  For the palace, it was important the the sovereign be in the north, looking south.  In fact, many maps would have south at the top because that is how a sovereign would be viewing it, were it stretched out before them.  And one would need to consider various features, including mountains and streams, as all of those things carried various meanings, but it wasn't as simple as just finding the one thing that could affect a person.  As they observed differences they would also have to catalogue what happened and try to determine what the cause could be, based on their understanding of the world.  And in the archipelago this would also include an understanding of Buddhist and local kami-based wisdom and knowledge as well. One of the things in the Chronicles that inspired this episode was something I actually mentioned last time,  a record from 666  talking about Chiyu, a Buddhist priest of the Yamato no Aya family, who presented a south-pointing chariot to the sovereign, Naka no Oe.  this appears to be the same Chiyu from a similar record in 658, which also refers to him building a south pointing chariot.  So did it take him eight years, or is he just now presenting it to the sovereign?  And what, exactly, is a south-pointing chariot? Well, as the name implies, a south-pointing chariot is a two-wheeled chariot that always points south.  More appropriately stated, it is a wheeled device with a figure on top, much like a weather vane, which always points south.  This is usually described as the figure of a person or an official pointing in the appropriate direction.  This was a mechanical, rather than a magnetic compass. As the chariot, or carriage, is wheeled around, the two wheels spin.  The wheels themselves are independently connected to a series of gears.  If the wheels spin at the same rate, then their movement cancels each other out.  However, if one wheel turns more than the other, then it will cause the figure on the top to rotate.  Of course, as the chariot turns to the right, the left wheel, traveling along the outer diameter, will travel farther than the right.  This will cause the figure to turn counter-clockwise to the left, but from an outside observer's perspective, it will continue to point in the same direction, even as the chariot itself turns.  Turning to the left would cause the opposite effect. Though it may have been used earlier, there appears to be reliable written evidence of a South Pointing chariot starting from the third century.  The first one was based on much earlier stories of a similar device, but it is unclear if it was a chariot, some other device, or even just a legend that was told as historical fact.  From the third century on the design appears to have been continuously improved upon. I should point out that all we have is descriptions—we don't have any actual south pointing chariots, let alone diagrams showing how the mechanisms worked.  There is the possibility that it used a kind of differential gear to work automatically, but we don't have any actual evidence.  There are other theories that it may have required some kind of manual switch, so that it would attach to one wheel or the other as needed.  That would require that the chariot be moving in either a straight direction or turning in one particular direction, which seems rather unwieldy. I noted some of the problems with this, and even moreso in a place like Japan, where 70% of the terrain is mountains.  Up and down hills, along paths that are likely anything but the smooth, paved surface we have for roads today—and even those have plenty of irregularities and potholes that could throw off any such device. And if you want to use it for any real distance, then you have to factor in other things, including the curvature of the earth.  After all, with the earth being a sphere, any chariot traveling due west to east or east to west, other than at the equator, would have one wheel traveling farther than the other one.  Granted, at the scale we are talking about, it probably is all but negligible, and the rough terrain and simple slippage of what were most likely wooden gears probably entered a lot more variability than the earth's curvature. One of the other issues is that the chariot only points “south” if you set it up to do so.   And if you know that, well, why do you need a south-pointing chariot?  Ultimately, it seems that this is more of a novelty item, good for impressing crowds and demonstrating some engineering principles, rather than an actual, useful invention.  After all, it was forgotten about and recreated multiple times, often centuries apart.  Had it been a truly useful invention, it probably would have been kept in constant use.  Meanwhile, I suspect that there were a fair number of farmers and others who knew that you could more easily and reliably use the sun and stars, as long as the weather was clear. There is also some evidence of an understanding of magnetic compasses since at least the 2nd Century BCE.  Early Han sources suggest that a spoon made of naturally magnetized ore could be placed on top of a polished bronze surface, and it would align itself north to south.  We don't have any actual surviving examples, however—there are later versions that you can find, where the plate is divided up into various directions, and then a magnetized “spoon” is placed on top, but nothing has actually come from Han tombs.  Furthermore, this seems to mostly be for geomantic purposes.  A more practical compass, with a magnetized needle, seems to have been developed by the 11th century, which could then be used for actual navigation. By the way, the “spoon” as a compass pointer may be in reference to the “Big Dipper” constellation, which was envisioned as a spoon, or ladle, in shape.  The seven stars were often used in geomancy, likely because of their importance, at least in the northern hemisphere, of pointing to the north.  So there's some thought that the “needles” of these early compasses weren't litterally  spoon shaped, but symbolically representive of the Big Dipper or the Northern Ladle.  Quick astronomy lesson, here.  If you are in the northern hemisphere, particularly from the 35th parallel to the north pole, you can see the seven stars that make up the constellation or asterism we know as the Big Dipper.   In English we sometimes also refer to this as Ursa Major, though technically the familiar seven stars are just a part of that larger constellation.  In Japan, the same constellation is often referred to as Hokuto Shichisei, the Seven Stars of the Northern Ladle.  It can be seen further south, but parts of it may dip below the horizon during the autumn season. It is important for several reasons.  One is that it is made up of particularly bright stars, which you can generally see even when other stars may not be visible.  Second, its distinctive shape lends itself to being easy to find in the sky.  And finally, if you draw a line between two of the stars at the end of the “cup” of the ladle, you can follow that line to find Polaris or hokkyokusei, the north star, which means you know which direction is north- and once  you know that, you can use it to figure out any other direction.  And Polaris is less than a degree off of true north, making it even more accurate than most magnets, as the magnetic pole can be quite different, depending on its current position, and magnetic north changes over time as the magnetic field around the earth fluctuates. That said, this was not necessarily the case in ancient times.  Four thousand years ago, the star closest to true north would have been the star Thuban, in the constellation Draco, a star that most of us probably haven't heard of.  Polaris, in the constellation Ursa Minor (the Little Bear, also known as the Little Dipper) apparently took over as the north star around 500 CE.  However, even before then, the mouth of the dipper could still be used to indicate north.  In fact, if you draw a line between two of the stars in the back of the constellation, then you also end up finding Thuban.  So even if the north star itself wasn't accurate, finding the dipper would still help you orient yourself, especially if you can find true north during the day and then compare that with the constellation at night. Which helps to understand why astronomy, or Tenmondou, was so important in the Onmyouryou.  Though it wasn't just a study of stars, but of the way of the heavens in general.  And the changes in the heavens, brings us to another important concept—the flow of energy across the seasons.  From the bright days of summer, filled with sunshine and yang energy, to the dark yin energy of winter's long, cold nights. It wasn't enough to just know what happened, and where, but when was also important. Obviously you need to know when to sow seeds, flood the fields, and harvest the rice.  Beyond that, though, you have other concepts, such as how the the day and hour of an event could be symbolically important. And of course, all of these had their own associations with various concepts of the flow of yin and yang energy. Now knowing the year, the month, and even the day is largely just a matter of counting.  But let's talk about something a little more tricky:  How do you know the hour? This brings us to the vignette at the top of the episode, about the clepsydra, or water clock, that Naka no Oe is said to have built. Now we talked about some of the fountains and similar things that have been discovered in the Asuka region back in episode 118.  One thing that they believe they also found evidence of is something called a water clock, which is, as its name suggests, a clock powered by water.  It is typically depicted as a series of three or more boxes or reservoirs that each hold an amount of water.  Water is placed in the top reservoir, and then a hole towards the bottom is unplugged and it is allowed to drain into the box beneath.  The hole is of a particular size, and thus the water flows at a constant rate, filling up the container below, which has a similar hole, etc. all the way to a reservoir at the very bottom.  The multiple boxes mean that the water level in the intermediate boxes stays relatively constant, resulting in relatively consistent pressure and flow rate.  The last reservoir has a measuring stick on a float, so that as the last box is filled with water, the measuring stick raises up.  Since it is rising at a constant rate, one can use that to tell how much time has passed, regardless of anything else.  Thus you can keep time even at night. There is a record of Naka no Oe making one in the fifth month of 660, and he would have another one built in 671, which we will discuss later.  It is interesting that both of these inventions appear twice in the narrative—once during the reign of Naka no Oe, aka Tenchi Tenno, and once during the previous reign, that of Takara Hime, aka Saimei Tenno.  In this case it is said that 671 is the first time that the water clock, or roukoku, was actually used. From what I can tell, there is nothing that definitively indicates that the Mizuochi site in Asuka was definitely the site of Naka no Oe's water clock.  There isn't much in the Chronicles telling us what it was like or where, exactly, it was built, and there wasn't anything found at the site naming it as the location of the roukoku.  However, the site is in a prominent enough place, with channels for water and a pavilion of some sort.  They definitely found evidence of pipes, remnants of lacquered wood, and reservoirs for water, among other things, that suggest something to do with moving water happened in this area.  So it seems a very strong choice, as it all fits with theoretical archeological reconstructions. A water clock like this is excellent for keeping accurate time at all hours of the day.  However, it does have a slight problem in that anyone without a clock is still going to have to use the sun and similar heavenly cues to know what time it is.  So how do you let them know?  Well, it turns out that the continent had an answer for that as well, and instituted various systems of drums and bells to let people know the hour.  In fact, some of these practices continued, in one form or another, right up to the modern day—with or without a water clock.  After all, the key was to give the community some sense of the passing of time, but I doubt anyone was using it to time things more precisely than a general idea of an hour—though they did have the concept of their own minutes and seconds.  Which brings us to just how they saw time back then. The system of time that the Chronicles seems to use also came over from the continent, where there appear to have been several different methods for telling time prior to accurate clocks.  And while there was an idea of dividing the entire day into twelve segments, the time as it was announced was not always consistent with those twelve segments, or hours.  Rather, time was based around the key parts of the day.  So, for instance there was sunrise, noon, sunset, and midnight.  And while noon and midnight remain exactly twelve hours apart, sunrise and sunset change with the seasons.  So if you call out sunrise, and then divide the time between sunrise and noon into equal segments of time, the size of those time segments change with the seasons.  On top of that, because of the tilt of the earth and our slightly irregular orbit around the sun, the sun appears to “move” across the sky faster or slower throughout the year, with a difference of about 30 minutes total between the extremes.  This isn't going to affect most people's daily lives, but would have been noticeable to those taking accurate measurements. In ancient Han, this appears to have been common in cities and towns, with a watch that would call out as they progressed on their rounds at set points in the day and night, relying largely on heavenly cues—which I suspect did not lead to the most accurate timekeeping, but it was sufficient for what most people needed.  The telling of time in this manner was partly to help with keeping track of the time of day, but was just as much an announcement that the watch was on duty and a warning to would-be criminals. Now a water clock was an excellent device for keeping track of a standard, absolute time, such as it were, but it required constant maintenance.  If you already have a watch calling out the time, perhaps they can also keep the water clock properly set, but you did have to have someone constantly filling it up and draining it at known points of the day.  Plus there was the problem that you only knew the time if you could check it, and this wasn't like a clock tower or something similar. And so in 671 it appears that Nak no Oe instituted the continental idea of drums and bells to announce the time to the people—or at least to those at the court.  We don't have a record of exactly how they were, used, but we can infer from other sources on the continent, and what we do know that some tradition of announcing the time with drums and bells continued to be employed in Japan until the Meiji era, though perhaps not without interruption:  Temples and the like had bell or drum towers, and as the day progressed they would beat out the time.  It was not, however, telling time as we might think of it, with one stroke at the first hour, two on the second, etc..  In fact, in many ways they counted backwards, and they only counted 12 hours, not our modern 24.  By the Edo period it seems that it was common practice to toll the bells nine times at noon and at midnight.  From there, they would count down, with 8 bells at roughly 2 o'clock, 7 bells at 4 o'clock, and 6 bells at 6 o'clock.  That would be another issue.  From 6 o'clock, the number of bells that would be tolled continued to decrease, so that at 8 o'clock it would be 5 bells, then 4 bells at 10 o'clock.  It would then jump back up to 9 and start over again. Why these numbers were used for the different hours we are not entirely sure, and I have no idea if these numbers were the same ones used back in the 7th century—though it does seem to match similar continental traditions.  Even the hours themselves were known by the twelve signs that came to be associated with the zodiac:  the hour of the rat, the hour of the ox, the hour of the tiger, etc.  Midnight fell in the middle of the hour of the rat, and noon fell in the middle of the hour of the horse, with each hour being almost exactly 2 hours by modern reckoning. There were other systems in use as well.  One divided the entire day up by 100 and then each of those divisions by another 10.  The key was whether or not it was an absolute or relative measurement. Something like the roukoku would indicate an absolute measurement.  After all, the fall of water from one reservoir to another was not affected by the change in seasons—at least as long as the water didn't freeze.  The flow was constant, as was the measurement of time. For those using other forms of reckoning, such as celestial phenomena or even a sundial, things might be a bit less accurate.  This was especially true when using concepts like “sunrise” and “sunset”.  Still, through observing the changes over the year, people eventually figured out charts and rules to help reconcile absolute forms of measurement with solar time.  There were other methods for telling time, as well.  Perhaps one of the more pleasant was the use of incense sticks.  By the time of the Tang dynasty, incense in stick form was relatively common, and it had been noticed that sticks of incense could burn at a fixed rate.  This meant that you could use incense sticks like candles were used in Europe, counting down how far they had burned to tell what time it was.  If you were really fancy, you could make a single stick out of different types of incense, so that as it hit a new hour, the scent would change, alerting you to the time through your olfactory senses. Speaking of time, we are coming to the end of ours for this episode.  We do have some more information on this on our website, Sengokudaimyo.com, and we'll have links to those sections of the website accompanying our blog. Next episode we will focus more on the reign of Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou, from his seat at Otsu no Miya. Until then, thank you once again for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  

Slovenský deník SME se znovu zaobírá osobou Davida Lindtnera. V minulosti byl prokurátorem a později i soudcem, jeho profesní dráhu ale přerušilo zadržení Národní kriminální agenturou (NAKA) v rámci akce Vichřice v říjnu 2020. Šlo o policejní zásah, při kterém bylo zadrženo několik osob, včetně soudců, a to v souvislosti s korupčními skandály.Všechny díly podcastu Svět ve 20 minutách můžete pohodlně poslouchat v mobilní aplikaci mujRozhlas pro Android a iOS nebo na webu mujRozhlas.cz.

Send us a textIn this episode of Friday Night Beers, Tom & Vince drink Hitachino Nest Red Rice Ale. This beer comes from Kiuchi Brewery in Naka, Ibaraki, Japan. They drink it and somehow compare it to things like secret organizations, Area 51, The Studio, The White Lotus, scene stealing actors and more. At the end, they rate this beer on a unique 1-5 scale. VINCE: 2 / 5 VincesTOM: 3.75 / 5 TomsInstagram: @friday.night.beersTwitter: @fnb_pod Threads: https://www.threads.net/@friday.night.beersEmail: friday.night.beerspodcast@gmail.com Theme music by Billy Hansa. Subscribe, rate and review the podcast on Apple, Spotify or wherever you find your podcasts!

Jen za posledních 14 dní hygienici potvrdili nových 66 nakažených nemocí špinavých rukou. Žloutenkou typu A se tak od začátku roku nakazilo už 516 lidí. Podle hlavní hygieničky Barbory Mackové jsou rizikovými regiony Praha, Středočeský, Moravskoslezský a Ústecký kraj. V Press klubu Frekvence 1 doporučila preventivní mytí rukou a očkování. Celý pořad s Jakubem Veinlichem si poslechněte na těchto stránkách.

Before Hawaiʻi was annexed by the United States in 1898, the nation was led by a constitutional monarchy and was recognized as an independent kingdom. Before Hawai'i's last monarch, Queen Lili'uokalani, was overthrown by non-native American businessmen in 1893, the queen sent a royally-charted Hula troupe to the World's Columbian Exposition to share the culture and stories of Kanaka Maoli, or Native Hawaiians. This is just the beginning of the community's history in Chicago. In honor of Asian American, Native Hawaiian and Pacific Islander Heritage Month, Reset learns more about Hawaiian migration to Chicago, the legacy of Hula and reclaiming the culture with executive director of Aloha Center Chicago Lanialoha Lee, hula teacher, visual artist and co-curator of Chicago's Legacy Hula exhibit at the Field Museum Napuahinano Sumberg and education committee chair of the Ke Ali`i Victoria Ka`iulani Hawaiian Civic Club-Chicago and Associate Director for Outreach & Strategy at the Newberry Library Kahakulani Blaisdell For a full archive of Reset interviews, head over to wbez.org/reset.

This episode we are looking at the early years of the official reign of Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tenno, including the building of a brand new capital on the shores of Lake Biwa. For more information, see: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-126 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 126:  New Beginnings The local farmers couldn't help but talk.  There was so much construction, but it wasn't entirely clear what was being built.  The land between the mountains and the lake had been neatly groomed fields, but now that the government workmen had moved in, all of those fields were being cleared.  This new construction was much larger than anything that people had seen before.  Rocks were coming in from far flung quarries, and local kilns were being set up to create tiles, while woodcutters were sent into the forests to bring logs to the site. There were various stories about what was going on—a new provincial government office, or perhaps a new temple, but perhaps the most outlandish was that this was going to be some kind of royal palace.  The sovereign himself was taking in interest in this little slice of Afumi, and he was going to abandon the Home Territories of Yamato and bring his entire court to the shores of Lake Biwa. What a far-fetched story!  …Wasn't it? Last episode we recapped a lot of the history of Prince Naka no Oe and how he had come to this point: the Isshi Incident, the Taika reforms, as well as the reigns of his uncle, Prince Karu, aka Koutoku Tennou, and his mother, Takara Hime, aka Saimei Tennou.  With Takara Hime's death, Naka no Oe was now – finally, as he might have thought -- running things officially.  He had prosecuted the war in Baekje, and with that loss, he had turned his focus back to the archipelago.  He now had refugees to settle, and defenses to set up.  And then there were the embassies that would be coming, in an apparent attempt to normalize relations post-conflict.  That could only go so far, however, given that Tang and Silla had simply turned their war efforts against Goguryeo.  So one imagines that any diplomatic discussions were held with the understanding that the international order was still in flux. And so we arrive in the 8th month of 665, as some of the first defensive castles were being erected.  That same month, Tamna—the kingdom on the modern island of Jeju—sent ambassadors to the Yamato court.  The diplomatic ties between Yamato and Tamna were a relatively recent occurrence, but with Baekje gone, one wonders if Yamato wasn't feeling out a new alliance on the continent.  That said, Tamna does not appear to have been a major player on the international stage.    They had been a tributary of Baekje, and may have even been one of the last holdouts of the proto-Japonic language for a long time.  Indeed, a 15th century Joseon history records a foundation myth of Tamna that emphasizes close early ties with the Japanese archipelago. The following month saw another visit by Tang ambassadors, only a year after Guo Wucong had come to the court.  Guo Wucong had been wined and dined, and things seem to have gone well, as this time he returned, but he wasn't the one leading the embassy this time.  That honor went to Liu Degao, sub-prefect of Yizhou, among his many titles.  Yizhou is the same location where the previous missions from Yamato to the Tang court had made landfall.  Presumably, Liu Degao would have had experience with the embassies that passed through Yizhou, so he seems a logical choice to be sent over to the archipelago. This seems like an escalation, with a more titled ambassador leading the party. It is possible that the Tang were trying to not only reset their relationship with Yamato, but also attempt to woo them to their side.  The Tang likely knew that if they defeated Goguryeo, then they would have another problem to work out:  The alliance with Silla.  At the moment both Tang and Silla were in a partnership of convenience, but the Tang empire didn't get where it was by just giving up territory. And Silla was, itself, ambitious.  It would be in the Tang dynasty's best interest to have Yamato on its side in case Silla became a problem.  At the very least, the Tang court could have just been trying to make sure that Yamato would stay out of any continental entanglements, such as by supporting Goguryeo. Within the Yamato court, it is unclear which way, exactly, they were leaning at this point.  The court was clearly building defensive positions—fortresses and more.  At the same time, there were likely those who welcomed any return to stable relations with the Tang.  After all, there were still Wa in Chang'an and elsewhere, and there was still a hunger in the archipelago for the books and other goods that the Silk Road could provide.  On the other hand, they may have felt more at home with Goguryeo, or even Silla.  The bonds with the Korean peninsula were older and likely stronger.  And, as long as the Tang Empire was busy with other states, then perhaps they would be too preoccupied to attack Yamato. Liu Degao and his entourage had arrived at Tsushima on the 28th day of the 7th month.  They would have been put up there for a time, and entertained.  If this embassy followed later conventions, they would have likely pulled into a harbor, like the one near Kofunakoshi.  This is a narrow spot between the two parts of Tsushima, where we know that in the 9th century, ships from the Tang empire would stop, register goods and people, and likely have them transferred to Japanese ships.  All of the checking and cataloging would happen  at nearby Bairinji temple. Even if they didn't have to transport everything to another ship, it is likely that they would held at Tsushima for a while for security purposes.  Tsushima was ideal, both for its distance, halfway between the Korean peninsula and the Japanese archipelago, but also for its shape, with numerous places that ships could sit at anchor in secluded bays away from any weather or rough seas that could otherwise cause problems. We don't know exactly what the Tang embassy's stay was like, but we know that they were at Tsushima for roughly two months, which was probably the time it took to get a message to the Yamato court and back.  We know how long it was because we learn that it is on the 20th day of the 9th month that they finally made landfall at Tsukushi, or Kyushu, and two days later they forwarded a letter-case to the Yamato court. Two months later, we know they were at the court, as there was a banquet held for Liu Degao on the 13th day of the 11th month, and then a month after that, Liu Degao and the rest of the mission were presented gifts, after which they left and returned to the Tang court.  We are also told that Mori no Kimi no Ohoishi, along with Sakahibe no Muraji no Iwashiki and Kimi no Kishi no Harima all went to the Tang court that same month, no doubt traveling with Degao and Wucong. On the first month of the following year, Neungnu of Goguryeo was sent to the Yamato court to offer tribute.  On the same day, the 11th day of the first month, Tamna also sent someone identified as Prince Siyeo to offer presents.  Immediately, I'm wondering about the way that this is presented.  Both of these states – Goguryeo and Tamna - were allies of the former Baekje kingdom.  I have to wonder how the Goguryeo ships made their way—did they come down the western side of the peninsula, through the Bohai sea, and thus past possible Tang patrols between their peninsular and continental territories, or did they head through the East Sea, aka the Japan Sea, where they would have to pass by the coast of Silla, whom they were also not on great terms with?  The fact that both missions are mentioned at the same time suggests that maybe the Goguryeo embassy sailed down to Tamna, on Jeju Island, and then the two groups made their way over to Yamato together from there. Other things about this entry to note is that the Chroniclers use different terms for these visits to the Yamato court.  Goguryeo uses a term that Aston translates as “offering tribute” while Tamna uses a different term indicating that they were “offering presents”.  This may be as simple as the difference in the various relationships between the polities, as viewed by the Chroniclers.  After all, there was a long relationship between Yamato and Goguryeo, which was considered one of the three Han, or Samhan.  Whether true or not, I could certainly see the Chroniclers feeling that Goguryeo was in a subordinate relationship with Yamato.  Tamna, on the other hand, was a more recent addition to the Yamato diplomatic sphere.  As such, it would be understandable, to me if the Chroniclers still saw it as a more independent entity. It also may hint at different messages being communicated.  As far as we can tell, Tamna wasn't under direct threat by the Tang empire—though they may have been feeling a little bit of heat, given the fall of Baekje and the Tang empire's new outpost on the peninsula.  Goguryeo, however, was under more direct threat, and had been in conflict with the Tang for years.  On top of that, based on what we can tell, it seems that Yeong Gaesomun, the despot who had been ruling Goguryeo and helping it defend against the Tang, had just passed away.  It may have been that the Goguryeo court was seeking support against Tang and Silla, as they were in a moment of instability, themselves.  As such, “Tribute” might indicate that they were more formally petitioning Yamato for support. Goguryeo envoy Neungnu left about 5 months later, on the 4th day of the 6th month but then another envoy, this time Minister Eulsyang Oemchu, arrived a little more than four months later.  Much like with the Tang, this feels like Goguryeo was upping the ante, sending higher ranking officials to negotiate with Yamato.  That lends some credence to the theory that there was something of a bidding war going on for Yamato's involvement in international affairs.  For Yamato, however, it would seem that getting involved in continental affairs was hardly something they were itching to do.  Instead, they continued their moves to fortify. In local events, we know that on the 11th day of the 10th month of 665, while the Liu Degao delegation was still in Yamato, there was a great “review”, by which they seem to mean a sutra reading, at Uji.  It is unclear just where this was held, as I haven't found reference to any particular temple.  However, it does indicate that there was activity in the area. Uji is probably most popular, today, for its role as a setting in the Tale of Genji.  There indeed numerous reminders there of the Heian period, including the hall of Ujigami Shrine, and the famous Hou-ou-do, or Phoenix Hall, of the Byoudouin. In 1053, Fujiwara Yorimichi inherited the villa from his father, Fujiwara Michinaga, and he converted it into a Pure Land temple.  Michinaga is thought to have been one of the people on whom Murasaki Shikibu based the character of the Shining Prince, Hikaru Genji.  That's all too late for this moment in the Chronicles, of course., but we do have earlier references to Uji as a place, as well as in various names.  It seems to have been part of the territory of the Hata, who controlled much of the area of modern Kyoto and environs.  There is a temple, Houjouin, also known as Hashidera, which claims to date back to the 7th century, and may have been the site of the above-mentioned sutra reading in 665.  According to the Temple's own legend, it was built around 604, when Hata no Kawakatsu built the famous Uji bridge, or Hashi, on the orders of Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi.  Other sources give the date as 646.  The temple was rebuilt in the 13th century, and as far as I can tell, nothing remains of the original temple, but it is possible that it was the site of this review. The next non-Diplomatic record of the Chronicles is from the 3rd month in 666.  The Crown Prince went to the house of Saheki no Komaro no Muraji, paying a sympathy call as Saheki appears to have passed away after having been gravely ill.  Saheki no Komaro no Muraji was one of those who had helped Naka no Oe in the Isshi Incident.  He had been introduced to the plot by Nakatomi no Kamatari, and then critical in the literal execution at the court.  He later led forces against Furubito no Oe, assuming that “Sahekibe no Komaro” is the same as “Saheki no Muraji no Komaro”.  There is also a relative, possibly his son, Takunaha, who was one of the Yamato court's overseas envoys.  Thus, one can understand that he had some importance to the Royal family, and we can probably assume that he had been involved in much more.  The Crown Prince, we are told, lamented him on account of his loyal service from the very beginning. One of the confusing things in this part of the Chronicle is the term “Crown Prince”.  It doesn't help that the Chroniclers were pulling from different records, and sometimes using anachronistic titles for individuals.  Naka no Oe had been known as the Crown Prince since the time of Takara Hime, whether he actually was or not.  Now he was in charge of the government, but it isn't clear that he had been formally invested as tennou.  More than that, there is mention of an investiture in either 667 or 668, several years after his quote-unquote “reign” had begun.  This makes some sense.  After all, when Takara Hime passed away, there was a foreign war to prosecute, and that probably took a fair bit of resources.  Plus, Naka no Oe had been running things for a while before that, or so we are told.  It would make sense if things just kept on going as they had been, and they held the actual investiture when they got around to it. We also know that he was busy with building projects: not just for the defense of the archipelago, but even a new capital and a new palace.  We'll talk about it a bit more, later, but suffice it to say that he may have been taking his time and gathering everything together. All of this makes the Chronicles themselves somewhat confusing.  They throw around the terms “Crown Prince” and “Sovereign”—well, “Sumera no Mikoto”—almost interchangeably.  Meanwhile, they've also stated that the Crown Prince was Prince Ohoama, Naka no Oe's younger brother. Based on my read of things, I believe we can distinguish between the two by whether or not it specifically calls them out as just “Crown Prince”, or “Crown Prince, younger brother to the sovereign”.  The latter is clearly Prince Ohoama, and the first is most likely Naka no Oe.  After all, in this instance, why would Prince Ohoama be the one so struck by the death of Saheki no Muraji?  Based on the story the Chronicles have told us, wouldn't it make more sense that it was Naka no Oe lamenting the death of one who had helped put him on the throne, rather than sending his brother? So keep that in mind as we go through the narrative.  I'll try to point out whom I believe they are speaking about, at least until we reach the point where Naka no Oe actually is invested. Getting back to the Chronicles, in the 7th month of the year 666, some four months after the illness and death of Saheki no Komaro no Muraji, another disaster struck—this time a natural disaster.  Great floods were reported—how widespread we aren't told.  This is often a problem in a land with many mountains that often gets large rains.  It is especially problematic when much of your agriculture is based on being just at or below the level of the rivers and streams so that it can be flooded on purpose.  We are told that the government remitted the land-taxes and commuted taxes that year, likely as a form of disaster relief to those affected by the flooding. In 666, we are also told a story that actually links this reign to the previous.  We are told that a monk, named Chiyu, gave the sovereign something called a south-pointing chariot.  I'll talk about what this was in another episode.  What's important here is to note that there was a previous entry in the era attributed to Saimei Tennou, aka Takara Hime, where a monk named Chiyu, or something similar, using different characters, also created a south-pointing chariot.  Likewise, we are later told in this reign how Naka no Oe installed a clepsydra, a water clock.  This is also mentioned in the previous reign.  It is possible that these reference completely different accounts.  Or they could be connected in some way. The south-pointing chariot is probably not something that we'll have evidence of, as it would have been mobile and probably deteriorated over time.  However, the water clock would have been a fixed installation with some clear architectural remnants, and indeed we think we know where at least one was built in Asuka.  Both of the water clock entries say that it was the “first” time, so make of that what you will. Also in 666, we see that some 2000 people of Baekje were settled in the East, possibly meaning the Kanto region, though this could be anywhere between modern Nagoya out to the far eastern edge of Honshu.  They were maintained at the government expense for three years, after which they were expected to have built new lives for themselves. In later periods, there is much to be said about “Men of the East”.  There are those that point to this region as being the origin point of many of the warrior traditions that would arise and become the military samurai.  Some of the weapons and fighting styles, especially some of the horse-riding archery seems to point to continental influences that made their way to the Kanto region and beyond.  One has to consider just how much did they bring with them and how did it grow, often beyond the view of the court and the court chronicles.  For now, though, it seems to have largely been a form of a refugee program, since the Baekje no longer had a kingdom to return to. Finally, we have an omen.  In the winter of 666, the rats of the capital, in Asuka, headed north to Afumi.  As with previous entries about rats departing a capital for a direction, this is again meant as an omen.  It probably didn't happen.  But it does foreshadow an account in the following year, when, on the 19th day of the 3rd month, the capital, surprise-surprise, moved to Afumi. And perhaps I shouldn't be flippant.  It was a surprise to have the capital move to Afumi.  There are accounts of legendary sovereigns that had their palace outside of the Nara Basin or Kawachi area, but at this point Yamato had been really building up those areas.  So why would they suddenly relocate to Afumi, of all places? Well, probably because of the same thing that had been driving the rest of their large-scale building projects during this period—from the Water Castle protecting the Dazai to the various Baekje style fortresses from Tsushima down to the Nara Basin.  Afumi was a naturally defensive position.  And in such an uncertain time, having a well-defended capital must have seen like a very good idea.  In fact, though they didn't formally change the capital until the 3rd month of 667, they probably had started work on it as soon as they got back from the loss at Hakusukinoe. As far as locations go, it wasn't necessarily a bad choice.  There were still routes to the port at Naniwa, which could still house various delegations when they arrived.  There were also routes to the east, leading to Owari and the rest of central and eastern Honshu, as well as mountain passes to get to the Japan Sea.  The area where the new palace was located was in the district of Ohotsu.  Ohotsu means something like “Big Port” and I don't know if it was already a major port along the banks of Lake Biwa or if that was a name that came from having the capital there.  Ohotsu was a long-inhabited area, even well before the 660's, and an important site for trade.  In the southern end of modern Ohotsu city is Ishiyama-dera, the stone mountain temple, it which was built in the 8th century, but in front of the temple are the remains of the largest freshwater shellmound in Asia.  As you may recall from some of our earliest episodes talking about the prehistoric period in the Japanese archipelago, shell mounds are typically evidence of ancient settlements, remnants of dump sites where they could throw their detritus.  This probably included a lot more than just shells, but shells, bones, and sometimes things like pottery sherds, would remain.  And while much of the wood and waste of the period would have disintegrated over time, shells do not.    These shell mounds accordingly provide important insight into the lives of people back in that day, and the size can also help us understand things about how large a settlement might have been or how long it was there.  The sheer size of the shellmound at Ishiyama-dera likely indicates that the region had been settled for many centuries prior to the 600's. In addition to the shellmound, and more closely related to the current times we are discussing, is evidence of a rock quarry found at the temple site and showing evidence of techniques familiar to people of the 6th to 8th centuries. You see, Ishiyama is a source of a particular white stone called wollastonite.  The quarry sits below the main hall of the temple, and so it probably would not have been quarried after the hall was built, which was in the 700s, so the site is believed to have been active before that.  From the composition of the stone and the markings on the remnants, we can see similarities to stones in the base of one of the buildings at Kawaradera, in Asuka, which we've talked about before and which was one of the pre-eminent temples of its day.  So this demonstrates a link between the region and the court even before the construction of the new Ohotsu palace. Speaking of the palace, we've known of its exact position since 1974,  when archeologists found evidence of the foundation of a large complex in a residential district in Nishikori.  While some initially suggested it was an old temple, further evidence makes it pretty clear that it was the dairi, or inner sanctum, of a palace.  This is very much in the same mould as the Toyosaki Palace in Naniwa and the various palaces in Asuka from around the same period.  In front of the dairi would have been the actual government buildings, but that area has not been excavated. That brings up another question: was this a full-on capital city, Ohotsu-kyo, or just a palace, the Ohotsu-no-miya?  So far we have only found the palace, But since the area is fairly built up, it may take time to find more, assuming it hasn't been destroyed by previous urban development in the area.  There are some hints that there was more: while there were already at a couple of temples that had been built by the mid-7th century, we see several temples built in ways that not only borrow features from important Asuka temples, like the layout of Kawaradera, but they also match the alignment of the Otsu palace ruins, hinting that they were built at the same time.  For example, there is are the ruins of an abandoned temple in Shiga-Minami – actually once thought to have been the Otsu palace. There was also Soufukuji, a temple in the mountains nearby meant to protect the Northwest from malign influences, likely based on continental geomantic concepts, part of what we might today think of as Feng Shui. This same kind of protective temple building is what we see in later capital cities. Of course, we know that this would not be a permanent capital for the nation of Yamato or of Japan—we aren't that far off from the Nara period, and then, a century later, the capital at Heian-kyo.  But that couldn't have been known at the time.  There was no way to know how long tensions with the continent would last, and it was just as possible that people at the time expected this to be a permanent move.  Its preeminence lasted, too: we do have evidence that even centuries later, the region was still known as an ancient “capital”. No matter what Naka no Oe's intentions were in moving the capital to Afumi, however, it didn't exactly go over well.  It was apparently quite unpopular—so unpopular that the move was mocked in song of the time.  That said, Naka no Oe's mind was made up, and the move took place regardless.     Before moving the capital, however, there was still business to attend to.  Takara Hime and Princess Hashibito were reinterred together in the Misasagi on Wochi Hill.  We are told that men of Goguryeo, Baekje, and Silla all mourned along the processional route.  The Crown Prince—I'm assuming Naka no Oe, this time given his connection to both of these women—apparently had started the work on a stone sarcophagus.  By this was probably meant the actual stone vault of the tomb, rather than just the coffin, which was also likely made of stone.  This was in Kuramaki, in Takatori, in the Takaichi District of the Nara Basin. Three months after the move to the new capital, the district of Kadono, in the west of modern Kyoto, presented to the sovereign a white swallow—an omen of some sort. The following month, on the 11th day of the 7th month, Tamna sent another embassy, led by a Minister known as Cheonma, with presents for Yamato.  This may have been the first envoy to actually visit the new Ohotsu capital, but certainly not the last. Cheonma stuck around for a few months.  In the intercalary 11th month, which is to say the extra 11th month of 667, inserted to keep the lunar and solar calendars at least partially aligned, Cheonma and his companions were presented with brocade and other cloth, as well as axes, sickles, and swords, presumably to take home to Tamna. While Cheonma was at the court, there was apparently another bit of diplomatic ping-pong going on.  Liu Jenyuan, the Tang general in charge of Baekje, sent Szema Facong and others to escort Sakahibe no Iwashiki and those with him to the Dazai in Tsukushi.  They didn't stay long, though—we are told they arrived on the 9th day of the 11th month and left only 4 days later, on the 13th day of the same.  When they left, however, they, themselves, were given escorts of Yuki no Muraji no Hakatoko—the same one whose memoirs we relied on for that previous trip to the Tang court—as well as Kaso no Omi no Moroshi.  So I guess they were escorting the escorts?  At what point does it end?  Hakatoko and others made it back about three months later, on the 23rd day of the first month of 668, and reported on their own escort mission.  That suggests that they didn't escort them that far.  They may have just seen them back to the Korean peninsula and that was it. Hakatoko's escort mission did mean that he missed a rather important event—the Crown Prince assuming the dignity.  That is to say, Naka no Oe finally took the title of sovereign.  A note in the text suggests that there were other sources that said it was the third month of the previous year—the same time that the Otsu capital was built.  Four days later they held a banquet in the palace for all of the court ministers. A little over a month later, his wife, Yamato bime, was appointed queen.  We are then told of his other wives and consorts. To be clear, Naka no Oe had been collecting consorts for ages.  So let's talk about a few of them. To start with there was Yamatobime, the Yamato Princess, daughter of none other than Naka no Oe's half-brother, Prince Furubito no Oe, his former rival to the throne. Then there was Wochi no Iratsume, aka Princess Miyatsuko, the daughter of Soga no Kurayamada no Ishikawa Maro.  She had a son, Prince Takeru, who died in 651 at the age of 8.  That suggests that she and Naka no Oe had been together since at least 643, two years before the Isshi Incident.  Another one of her daughters, Princess Uno, would go on to marry Naka no Oe's younger brother, Prince Ohoama, the new Crown Prince. Wochi no Iratsume seems to have died of grief in 649, after her father and much of her family were destroyed on the orders of her husband, Naka no Oe.  We are told that Naka no Oe also married Wochi no Iratsume's younger sister as well, Mehi no Iratsume.  She had two daughters, Princess Minabe and Princess Abe.  At this point Abe was only about 7 or 8 years old, herself, but she would eventually be married to Prince Kusakabe, the son of Prince Ohoama and Princess Uno, whom we just mentioned. Naka no Oe also had two other consorts.  Tachibana no Iratsume was the daughter of Abe no Kurahashi no Maro no Oho-omi—he was the first Sadaijin, or Minister of the Left, at the start of the Taika reforms, immediately following the Isshi Incident.  And then there was Hitachi no Iratsume, the daughter of Soga no Akaye. Soga no Akaye is an interesting figure.  You may recall the name from Episode 118.  Soga no Akaye was the acting minister in charge in Yamato when Prince Arima tried to start up a revolt against Takara Hime.  It was in his house where Prince Arima laid out his plan, but a broken armrest convinced Soga no Akaye to turn against the conspirators and turn them in.  And so it is interesting to hear that his daughter was married to Naka no Oe. We are also told of four “palace women” that Naka no Oe is said to have had children with.  The implication seems to be that these were women at the palace but they were not formally recognized with the same status as that of the formal consorts and, of course, the queen, his primary wife.  This fits in with at least one theory I've seen that Naka no Oe was something of a ladies' man.  It seems he got around even more than Murasaki Shikibu's fictional “Shining Prince”, Hikaru Genji.  We are told that there were at least 14 children among the nine official wives—and one has to consider that they were unlikely to record many of the women whom he may have slept with that he didn't also have children with.  And there is a theory that one of those not mentioned, may have been his own sister, full blooded sister.  Specifically, his sister Princess Hashibito, who was married to none other than Naka no Oe's uncle, Prince Karu, aka Jomei Tennou. To be clear:  we have no clear evidence that they were anything other than close siblings, but as you may recall how we mentioned back in Episode 114 that there was something that caused a falling out between Prince Karu and Naka no Oe, such that Naka no Oe disobeyed the sovereign's direct order in moving himself and the royal family back to Asuka.  That meant Naka no Oe, his wives, his mother, AND his sister, Princess—now Queen—Hashibito.  So, yeah, he absconded with Prince Karu's wife who was Naka no Oe's full-blooded sister.  And, as we've noted before, ancient Yamato's concept of incest was pretty narrow.  It was only if you had the same mother that you were considered full siblings—even if the father were someone else.  I suspect that this is related to the matrilineal nature of succession as well, which is why it was so important to insist that the ancient sovereigns had a direct lineal connection to the royal line through their mother as much as through their father. So if Naka no Oe and his sister were having any kind of relationship that was considered wrong or scandalous, then that could also help explain why he didn't take the throne sooner, and why it passed over to his mother.  But now, both Takara Hime and Hashibito were quite literally dead and buried, and Naka no Oe had ascended to the throne. Of the so-called “Palace Women” that  are listed as being likewise married to—or at least in a relationship with—Naka no Oe, I'd like to focus on one:  Iga no Uneme no Yakako.  For one, she is specifically mentioned as an uneme—one of the women sent to the court specifically to serve in the palace.  But her parentage isn't further illuminated other than the name “Iga” which is probably a locative, possibly referring to the area of Iga. This is also interesting because we are also told that she gave birth to a son named Prince Iga, also known as Prince Ohotomo.  Despite his mother's apparently unremarkable status, Prince Ohotomo seems to have been quite the apple of his father's eye.  He was born in 648, so in 668 he was about 20 years old, meaning that around this time he was probably just coming into his own at court.  He was married to his cousin, Princess Touchi, daughter of his uncle, Crown Prince Ohoama.  He was also married to Mimotoji, who appears to have been a daughter of Nakatomi no Kamatari, meaning that he was pretty well connected. But we'll get into that in a future episode.  For now, I think we'll leave it here: with the move of the capital to Ohotsu and the formal ascension of Naka no Oe to the throne. We'll talk about what that might mean in the future.  Until then, thank you once again for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website,  SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

As the debate continues about how work from home impacts productivity and the economy, new research from the Committee for Economic Development has found those that do - are saving an estimated $5,300 a year. - Habang nagpapatuloy ang debate tungkol sa kung paano nakakaapekto ang work from home sa produktibidad at ekonomiya, napag-alaman ng isang bagong pananaliksik mula sa Committee for Economic Development na ang mga naka-work from home ay nakakatipid ng tinatayang $5,300 sa isang taon.

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

"It felt really like losing a very close member of your family," church volunteer and community leader Violi Calvert expresses deep sorrow upon hearing the news of Pope Francis's passing. - Labis na lungkot ang naramdaman ng volunteer sa simbahan at lider ng komunidad na si Violi Calvert nang marinig ang balita na pumanaw na si Pope Francis.

Magiging malala ang isang alitan kung ang parehong panig ay nagpapataasan. Thirty years nang hiwalay si Baby at Rogelio, kasal pa rin sila pero hindi na sila nagsasama. Naka move-on na raw si Baby pero nang bigla niyang makita ulit ang kanyang asawa, muling nagbalik ang galit at inis niya kay Rogelio. Pakinggan ang kwento ni Baby sa Barangay Love Stories. 

A stadium sized balloon has successfully launched from Wānaka Airport - after several cancellations. The super-pressure NASA balloon will travel the Southern Hemisphere's mid-latitudes for planned missions of 100 days or more. It's the sixth balloon operation in New Zealand since 2015, with two balloons successfully launched from Wānaka in 2023. NASA's Debbie Fairbrother says safety was a key priority in getting the balloon launched. LISTEN ABOVESee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

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

Phil Moeke is the manager of Te Kōhaka o Tāne, a commercial nursery in Invercargill that has grown over 800,000 native trees and plants since it opened in 2022. You can find photos and read more about this episode on our webpage, here.With thanks to:Phil Moeke, Te Tapu o TāneGo to this episode on rnz.co.nz for more details

NASA is back in Wānaka for test flights of its stadium-sized, super pressure balloons. Mission manager with NASA's Balloon Program Office Christy Hales spoke to Corin Dann.

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Last time we spoke about the January 28th Incident. In January of 1932, tensions escalated in Shanghai as anti-Japanese sentiments surged after Japan's invasion of Manchuria. Orchestrated by Yoshiko Kawashima, a Japanese spy, a provocation led to violence, sparking outrage among Japanese expatriates. Japan demanded apologies and compensation from China, threatening military action if their demands were unmet. As the Japanese military amassed forces in Shanghai, the Chinese 19th Route Army prepared to resist, igniting the conflict known as the January 28th Incident, marking the beginning of a fierce struggle for control. Amidst chaos, the Nanjing government struggled to respond to Japan's escalating aggression in Shanghai. Chiang Kai-Shek prioritized avoiding war, urging a diplomatic approach to protect Shanghai's economy. Despite pressure, the 19th Route Army was ordered to withdraw, but tensions flared when Japan attacked the Chinese garrison. The 19th Route Army fiercely resisted, leading to intense battles. As Japan sent reinforcements, Chiang faced mounting protests and criticism for his passive stance, questioning whether he could maintain his strategy against the encroaching enemy.   #144 The First Battle of Shanghai 1932 Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. In the last episode we covered the January 28th Incident. At 11:30 pm on January 28, Japan ordered 2,300 Japanese Marines to advance westward along every branch road on the west side of North Sichuan Road, without waiting for a response. This road, which crosses into the northern area of the International Settlement and has frequently been designated as a Japanese defense zone, includes Target Road (now known as Wujin Road in Hongkou District, Shanghai), Qiujiang Road, and Yokohama Road. Their objective was to seize the Songhu Railway defense line at Tiantong'an Station. They faced strong resistance from the 19th Route Army, further escalating the conflict. In the early hours of the 29th, Japanese aircraft launched from the Notoro seaplane carrier, which was moored on the Huangpu River, attacked the Chinese district of Zhabei. Both the Commercial Press located at No. 584 Baoshan Road and the Oriental Library, the largest private library in China with over 300,000 books, were completely destroyed. That same day the 19th Route Army sent a telegram to the entire nation concerning the situation: Do forgive me it's a rough translation “Urgent. Dear Sir and Madam, the Japanese have occupied our three northeastern provinces, changing the color of our territory and making our nation perish. Recently, they have killed and set fire in Shanghai, and vagrants are everywhere, doing the most despicable and violent things in the world. Gunboats are coming one after another, and the Marines are all landed. At 12:00 a.m. on the 28th, they openly invaded our defense line in Zhabei, Shanghai, and challenged us. Guang Nai and others are soldiers, and they only know that it is their duty to defend themselves and defend their land. They cannot give up even an inch of land or an inch of grass. They resist to save the country and protect the race. Even if they sacrifice only one person and one bullet, they will never retreat and lose the personality of the soldiers of the Republic of China. This thing and this ambition are exposed to the sun and the sun and are known to the world. The spirits of our ancestors in heaven are truly relying on it”. On the morning of January 29, Chiang Kai-shek met with He Yingqin and Zhu Peide to discuss countermeasures. Simultaneously Zhu Peide convened a meeting with He Yingqin, Gu Zhutong, Li Jishen, Deng Shizeng, Lin Wei, and others to address issues such as defense deployment, the security of Nanjing and the Yangtze River, and resistance against Japan. Chiang Kai-Shek established the principles going forward for negotiations with Japan, emphasizing the need to prepare for talks while actively resisting. He stated that negotiations must have a clear final line of defense and a maximum limit that would not compromise administrative and territorial integrity, undermine the spirit of the Nine-Power Treaty, or jeopardize national sovereignty. If these limits were exceeded and unacceptable concessions were made, a decisive battle would be fought, even at the cost of defeat and death.  The defense and military strategy for Beijing and Shanghai included the 19th Route Army defending Shanghai with full strength, while the front guard army consisting of the 87th and 88th divisions would protect Nanjing. He Yingqin would remain in Nanjing, overseeing all party, government, and military personnel left behind. Chiang, along with the Central Political Council of the Kuomintang, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the National Government, and Chen Mingshu, all expressed their commitment to resisting Japanese aggression. Chiang also sent a telegram to He Chengjun, director of the Hubei Province Pacification Office, and Xu Tingyao, commander of the Fourth Division, stating "Last night, the Japanese invaders attacked our 19th Route Defense Line in Zhabei, Shanghai, and the battle is ongoing. Our army is determined to fight to the death. Their naval forces in Han and Xun will likely engage in military operations. We urge you to remain vigilant and defend yourselves, never yielding to them. The Fourth Division should concentrate on strict defense in Wuhan and avoid dispersal. If military funds become scarce, local governments will need to raise them independently." The National Government Military Committee appointed Chiang Kai-shek, Feng Yuxiang, Yan Xishan, and Zhang Xueliang as members responsible for mobilizing the army and commanding the Shanghai War. Chiang Kai-Shek officially resumed power after resigning to prevent a surrender and committed to a prolonged resistance. On January 30, the Chinese Nationalist Government announced the relocation of the capital to Luoyang. Chiang Kai-shek sent a telegram urging resistance against the Japanese and dispatched the elite Fifth Army to reinforce Shanghai. That night, Dai Ji, the commander of the Songhu Garrison, took charge of military operations in Shanghai, overseeing the 19th Route Army. The commander-in-chief was Jiang Guangnai, with Cai Tingkai as the army commander and division commanders Qu Shounian, Mao Weishou, and Shen Guanghan. Chiang Kai-Shek then issued a telegram to his troops across the nation and again I apologize for the rough translation. "Since the Northeast Incident began, the Central Government has been enduring humiliation and maintaining peace in order to avoid war and protect the lifeline of the country. It hopes to use justice and fairness to awaken the Japanese pirates. Unexpectedly, the more we tolerate, the more arrogant they become. When the Shanghai Incident occurred, we accepted their demands with great pain, but the Japanese pirates still brazenly pressed on, repeatedly attacking our Shanghai Defense Force, bombing civilian houses, throwing bombs on the streets, and our compatriots were ravaged. The country is about to perish. Anyone with blood in his veins would rather endure it. Since the 19th Route Army has risen up to defend itself bravely, our entire army In this time of national destruction and extinction, when the revolutionary soldiers are facing imminent danger, they should fight for the dignity of the country, strive for the survival of the nation, fulfill their responsibilities for the revolution, and be determined to die rather than live in disgrace, so as to deal with the brutal Japan that destroys peace and despises faith and integrity... Chiang Kai-shek and his comrades have shared hardships for a long time. Although I am now in the opposition, I am willing to swear to live and die with the soldiers and fulfill my bounden duty. I am here to inform you in advance with my blood and sincerity, and ask you to be determined and work hard, share the same hatred with the enemy, do not be arrogant, maintain the spirit of sacrifice, stay ready to fight, and save the country from danger." From that day on, the various ministries, commissions and committees of the National Government began to move to Luoyang, but the Military Commission and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs remained in Nanjing . At the same time, the frontline troops were ordered to be jointly commanded by the Minister of Military Affairs He Yingqin and the Chief of the General Staff Zhu Peide.  Typically Chinese sources breakdown what is known as the First Battle of Shanghai into three phases. In the previous episode we looked through the event up until the point of the first phase. After the initial fighting, both the 19th route army and Japanese agreed to a ceasefire so they could strengthen their positions and at least allow some form of diplomacy to occur. This went into effect on the 29th. As we mentioned, immediately afterwards the Japanese rapidly began reinforcing their position in Shanghai. They first sent the Sasebo 26th Squadron on the 30th, bearing 474 troops of the Sasebo 3rd Special Marine Corps alongside supplies. The next day the aircraft carriers Kaga and Hosho came over with 30 aircraft from the 1st air fleet. Then the cruisers Naka, Yura and Abukuma alongside 4 torpedo boats came bearing another 2000 marines. On February 1st the Terukoku Maru brought over the Yokosuka 1st Special Marine corps, roughly 525 men who landed at Huishan Wharf. With all that said and done, roughly 7000 Japanese troops had been brought over. On February 1st, the IJN warships began bombarding Nanjing from the Yangtze River, prompting Yu Jishi to frantically demand Chiang Kai-Shek transfer more troops to Shanghai. That night the Japanese light cruiser Tenryu, the protected cruisers Hirado and Taima, and the seven ships of the Navy's 23rd Destroyer Squadron fired upon Nanjing using four 140mm guns, 12 152mm single-mounted rapid-fire guns, 12 120mm single-mounted guns, and 20 76mm single-mounted rapid-fire guns. The rich and officials fled the city for refuge, but the Japanese army did not land any men to follow up the attack. Simultaneously 40,000 Shanghai workers from over 20 Japanese owned cotton mills began an anti-Japanese strike, being heavily backed by Communists. The workers began aiding the 19th route army to blockade the Japanese in the factories and streets and sabotage what they could.  On February 2nd, the Japanese army attacked Wusong several times, but was repelled each time. On the 3rd the Japanese expanded their attacks against Zhabei, Baziqiao and other locations, but the Chinese defenders successfully repelled these assaults as well. On the 4th, the Japanese launched their first major offensive, which extended the conflict to Jiangwan and Wusong. Following a day of intense fighting, the Wusong fort was destroyed by enemy bombardment; however, the Japanese army was unable to land due to the determined resistance of the Chinese defenders. The anti-aircraft artillery company from the 88th Division, reassigned to the 4th Regiment of the 156th Brigade of the 19th Route Army, managed to shoot down a Japanese aircraft. After the failure of the general offensive, Yukiichi Shiozawa was dismissed and sent back to Japan. Vice Admiral Yoshisaburo Nomura, the newly appointed commander of the Third Fleet, succeeded Shiozawa. After Nomura assumed his role, the Japanese army began to bolster its forces. Japan had initially planned to deploy troops when tensions escalated in Shanghai, but the navy had opposed this move. However, as the situation deteriorated, the navy was compelled to seek assistance from the army. On February 2, the Japanese cabinet officially decided to send troops. In response to the urgent circumstances in Shanghai, they resolved to dispatch the Shanghai Dispatch Mixed Brigade, led by Brigade Commander Major General Shimomoto Kuma, along with the 9th Division, commanded by Lieutenant General Ueda Kenkichi. The Shanghai Dispatch Mixed Brigade and the Second Independent Tank Squadron were prioritized for transport. Concurrently, the Japanese Navy also sent the Yokosuka 2nd Special Marine Corps to Shanghai. The 24th Mixed Brigade landed in Wusong on the afternoon of February 7. By this time, the combined forces of the Japanese navy, army, and air force had exceeded 10,000 personnel. At dawn on February 8, the Japanese Army's 24th Mixed Brigade launched an attack on Zhanghuabang, Yunzaobang, and Wusong Town along three routes, but they were repelled by our forces. Meanwhile on February 4, the National Government Military Commission sent out a telegram that divided the country into four defense zones. The first zone, which includes the area north of the Yellow River, was assigned to Zhang Xueliang as the commander-in-chief. The second zone, covering the area south of the Yellow River, was placed under the command of Chiang Kai-shek. The third zone, encompassing the area south of the Yangtze River as well as Fujian and Zhejiang provinces, was led by He Yingqin. The fourth zone, which includes Guangdong and Guangxi, was commanded by Chen Jitang. The telegram also stated that, aside from maintaining troops for local stability, all commanders were to concentrate their forces within their respective defense zones to confront the aggressive Japanese. Additionally, a directive was issued for the provinces of Sichuan, Hunan, Guizhou, Hubei, Shaanxi, and Henan to send troops to serve as a general reserve. On February 5, upon learning that the Japanese army had been redeployed from mainland China to Shanghai, Chairman of the Military Commission Chiang Kai-shek sent a telegram from Luoyang to He Yingqin. He instructed that if the Japanese forces landed, the Chinese Air Force would engage in combat. Additionally, Chiang sent a message of condolence to Jiang Guangnai, Cai Tingkai, and Dai Ji of the 19th Route Army, stating "Brothers, you have been fighting valiantly for a week. Each time I reflect on the tremendous sacrifices made by the soldiers and their dedication, I feel a deep sadness... If necessary, Zhong (Zheng) can come to lead in person. When the Air Force enters the fray, the Army must establish various signals in advance to communicate with it and ensure coordinated efforts..." On the same day, the 88th Division arrived in Suzhou. On February 6, Chiang ordered the 261st Brigade of the 87th Division to move from Nanjing to reinforce Kunshan. The troops reached Kunshan on February 7. On February 8, Chiang directed He Yingqin to transfer an artillery battalion to support the 19th Route Army. Then, on February 9, Chiang Kai-shek mobilized the First Division, led by Commander Hu Zongnan, and the Seventh Division, commanded by Wang Jun, to prepare for reinforcement of the 19th Route Army in Shanghai. February 8th marks the second phase of the battle. On the 10th, to ensure that the 88th Division of the Central Army complied with the orders from the 19th Route Army of the Guangdong Army, Chiang Kai-shek sent a telegram to Yu Jishi insisting that "your troops must strictly follow the commands of Commander-in-Chief Chiang and coordinate their movements with allied forces." The Japanese Marine Corps, under Yukio Shiozawa, initiated a three-pronged encirclement attack from Hongkou. The National Army mounted a determined defense and ultimately repelled the Japanese forces, pursuing and destroying them, which significantly lowered their morale. On February 11, Chen Cheng, commander of the Central Army's 18th Army, sent a telegram to Chiang Kai-shek from Ji'an, Jiangxi, reporting that the troops had not been paid for nearly two months and were lacking food. At that time, the National Government was planning to redeploy the National Army that had been engaged in suppressing the Communists in Jiangxi to Zhejiang and Shanghai and to relocate the capital to Luoyang.  On February 12, following a battle at Caojiaqiao, the Japanese army's strategy to consolidate their forces was entirely disrupted. The next morning, February 13, the Japanese 24th Mixed Brigade crossed the Caojiaqiao Bridge in Zhuozaobang and engaged with the Nationalist army. Seizing the moment, the 19th Route Army Headquarters aimed to annihilate the Japanese forces. The Nationalist army surrounded the Japanese troops near the Yong'an Cotton Mill. Additionally, 60 members of a suicide squad launched a suicide attack, resulting in the complete destruction of 1,600 Japanese soldiers. The Japanese army faced significant losses, thwarting their attempt to swiftly capture Wusong. On February 14, Chiang ordered the 88th and 87th Divisions, which were already stationed in Nanxiang and Kunshan near Shanghai, to be reorganized into the Fifth Army. He appointed Zhang Zhizhong, a volunteer eager to fight against the Japanese, as the commander of the Fifth Army. This new army was placed under the unified command of the 19th Route Army and took over the defense line stretching from the northern end of Jiangwan through Miaoxing to the western end of Wusong. It served as the left-wing army, while the 19th Route Army acted as the right-wing, tasked with defending Jiangwan, the area south of Dachang, and the urban region of Shanghai. To replenish the 19th Route Army's losses, Chiang repeatedly ordered reinforcements from various locations. For instance, on February 15, Shangguan Yunxiang dispatched 500 active soldiers from Bengbu to the 19th Route Army; on February 17, Liang Guanying sent 500 unarmed soldiers from Qingjiangpu; and on February 19, Liu Zhi contributed 1,000 active unarmed soldiers from Henan. On February 16, Chiang Kai-shek communicated with Finance Minister Song Ziwen via telegram, stating, "Since the Japanese refuse to withdraw their troops from Shanghai, we must resist until the end. ... Food supplies in Jiangxi and Henan will dwindle, and assistance will be completely halted. Please arrange to deposit 10 million yuan in central banknotes in Nanchang and 20 million yuan in Zhengzhou. This will allow the government to continue functioning, the army to be sustained, and perhaps we can navigate this crisis and avert collapse. This is my final request. I hope you can find a way to assist." To prevent any friction between the Fifth Army and the Nineteenth Route Army over competing for military accolades, Chiang Kai-shek sent a telegram to Zhang Zhizhong and Yu Jishi on February 18. "The fight against Japan is a matter of national survival and is not a matter of honor for an individual or a certain unit. Our frontline officers and men should fully understand this. Therefore, the honor of the 19th Route Army is the honor of our entire National Revolutionary Army. There is absolutely no distinction between honor and disgrace. The Fifth Army's joining the front line is feared by the enemy and will also be slandered by the reactionaries (those who oppose the Nanjing Central Government). If we can continue to fight in the name of the 19th Route Army, it will be enough to demonstrate the strength of our National Revolutionary Army. We will share life and death, let alone honor and disgrace. I hope that this will be conveyed to the officers and men of the Fifth Army. They must unite and fight with our 19th Route Army and make no sacrifices to complete the revolutionary mission." Over on the other side, following reports of significant losses suffered by the Japanese army in Wusong, Tokyo received an imperial decree from Emperor Hirohito demanding the Shanghai incident get settled quick. In response, Chief of Staff Zairen urgently ordered the 9th Army Division, commanded by Ueda Kenkichi, to swiftly reinforce Shanghai. By the afternoon of February 13, the main contingent of the 9th Division had arrived at Shanghai Port, and by February 16, all personnel had disembarked in Wusong. Consequently, Lieutenant General Ueda took over command from Nomura. At this point, the Japanese invading forces comprised over 30,000 troops from naval, land, and air units, along with 60 to 70 field artillery pieces, more than 60 aircraft, and dozens of ships concentrated at the Wusong mouth. Ueda issued a statement late on the night of the 13th, asserting, "If anyone obstructs our division from fulfilling its mission, we will take decisive action without hesitation." On the 18th, he sent an ultimatum to Cai Tingkai, demanding, "Your army must immediately cease hostilities and withdraw from the following areas by 5:00 p.m. on February 20: on the west bank of the Huangpu River, retreat from areas connecting the western end of the concession, Caojiadu Town, Zhoujiaqiao Town, and Pushong Town to the north; on the east bank, withdraw from areas connecting Lannidu and Zhangjialou Town to the north, and retreat to a zone 20 kilometers away from the border of each concession Additionally, all military installations in the specified areas must be dismantled and no new ones established. If these demands are not met, the Japanese army will have no choice but to act freely against your forces, and your army will bear all resulting consequences." In response to Ueda's ultimatum, Tsai and Chiang ordered their front-line troops to fire heavily at Japanese positions as a warning. On the morning of February 20, Ueda commanded a full-scale attack across the front, employing tactics to break through the center while flanking from both sides. The 9th Division led the assault on the junction of Jiangwan and Miaohang, aiming to encircle Wusong from the north with the Kurume Brigade and Zhabei with the Marine Corps from the south. The Japanese began with artillery bombardments, followed by infantry and tank assaults on the Zhanghuabang and Yangshupu lines, both of which were successfully repelled by Chinese defenders. Over a thousand Japanese soldiers and several tanks in Zhabei were killed or wounded due to landmines. On February 21, Ueda personally directed thousands of infantry, supported by aircraft and artillery, to attack the Chinese defensive positions. Both sides incurred heavy casualties, and the battle continued until dawn on the 23rd. The Japanese forces attempted to encircle Jiangwan Town from Jiangwan Station, but the Chinese defenders fought valiantly, launching multiple charges and capturing Japanese Major Kong Sheng along with hundreds of soldiers. Ultimately, the Japanese army was unable to withstand the resistance and began to retreat. After the Japanese 9th Division arrived in Shanghai, it prepared to initiate a second major assault on the defenders of the city. The strategy involved a comprehensive attack stretching from Zhabei to Wusong to contain the Chinese army's strength, with primary forces concentrated on Jiangwan and Miaohang. The goal was to seize these two strategic points, achieve a breakthrough in the center, sever the link between the 5th Army and the 19th Route Army, and then defeat them individually. At dawn on February 20, the Japanese dispatched over ten aircraft for reconnaissance and bombing missions over the Miaohang area. Naval artillery and heavy army cannons heavily shelled the Miaohang positions. Simultaneously, Japanese artillery bombarded the Yunzaobang area in an effort to force a crossing and facilitate the Miaohang offensive.   By 9 am, part of the Japanese forces advanced towards the Xiaochang Temple and the Maijiazhai position, immediately conducting a fire search on our troops' positions. At noon, 3,000 Japanese soldiers launched an attack against our forces. The officers and soldiers of the 527th Regiment, defending the Maijiazhai and Zhuyuandun positions, mounted a counterattack, marking the beginning of the Battle of Miaohang. After three hours of intense fighting, the Japanese suffered significant casualties and were unable to continue, retreating to their original positions. Following this, over 2,000 Japanese troops attacked the Xiaochang Temple and Jinjiatang positions. The officers and soldiers of the 523rd Regiment, taking cover in the trenches, launched counterattacks and successfully repelled the Japanese forces. As dusk fell, the Japanese infantry halted their assaults, but naval and land artillery continued to bombard our positions in an attempt to weaken our defenses and personnel for a renewed attack the following day. On February 21, Japanese artillery relentlessly shelled the positions of the 88th Division of the Fifth Army in Miaohang. Following this, thousands of Japanese infantry launched an assault on the Yanjiazhai and Miaohang Town front. As the Japanese forces advanced, the officers and soldiers of the 523rd and 524th Regiments bravely counterattacked and successfully repelled them. However, a significant number of enemy troops coordinated a comprehensive assault on the Maijiazhai, Zhuyuandun, Xiaochangmiao, and Yanjiazhai lines south of Miaohang. Our 523rd, 524th, and 527th Regiments engaged in intense combat with the enemy, particularly at the Zhuyuandun front near Maijiazhai and Xu Xu, where the fighting was especially fierce. After a day of conflict, the enemy was temporarily pushed back. On February 22, the Japanese 9th Division launched a full-scale attack on the Miaohang position held by the 88th Division of the Fifth Army. Throughout the day, aircraft bombed the Chinese defenders, and thousands of artillery shells were fired at them. However, under the direct command of Zhang Zhizhong, the enemy faced a devastating defeat due to the coordinated three-pronged assault by the Sun Yuanliang Brigade, the Song Xilian Brigade, and the 61st Division of the 19th Route Army. The Miaohang position was ultimately saved from peril, inflicting heavy casualties on the elite forces of the Japanese 9th Division and the Kurume Mixed Brigade. This victory became known as the "Miaohang Victory." In the days that followed, the enemy continued their bombardment and attacks but were consistently repelled by the defenders. The Japanese army suffered significant losses, shifting from an all-out offensive to a more focused approach before ultimately halting their attacks. By the 25th, Ueda's overall offensive strategy had also failed. On February 24, the Japanese army decided to escalate the conflict once more, transferring the 11th and 14th divisions from Japan to join the Shanghai Expeditionary Force, which included troops already engaged in the war. At that time, the flagship of the Japanese Navy's Third Fleet, the Izumo, sustained damage from a bombing raid carried out by the suicide squad of the 19th Route Army, which sent shockwaves through Japan. Additionally, the large troop presence made a quick resolution to the war impossible. Consequently, on the 23rd, the Japanese cabinet decided to promptly reinforce the army. The General Staff then established the Shanghai Expeditionary Army Command, appointing General Shirakawa Yoshinori, the former Minister of War in the Tanaka Cabinet, to replace Ueda. They dispatched the 11th Division (led by Lieutenant General Atsutarou Atsuto), the 14th Division (led by Lieutenant General Naoaki Matsuki), and over 100 aircraft to China to initiate a larger-scale offensive in Shanghai. After several reinforcements, the Japanese forces in Shanghai, under Shirakawa's command, grew to over 90,000 troops, supported by 80 warships and 300 aircraft, significantly enhancing their combat effectiveness. In contrast, the total strength of the Chinese defenders was less than 50,000, with inadequate equipment. After a month of intense fighting, the Chinese forces had suffered heavy losses, leaving their river defenses in the Taicang Liuhe area vulnerable. Learning from the failures of the previous three commanders' frontal assaults, Shirakawa opted to land at Liuhe and flank the Songhu defenders. He directed the 9th Division and other units to launch a direct attack on Songhu and Shanghai while using the 3rd Fleet to escort the 11th Division into the Yangtze River estuary. They executed surprise landings at Liuhekou, Yanglinkou, and Qiyakou, quickly outflanking the defenders. On March 1, the Japanese forces initiated attacks in Naobei, Jiangwan, and Miaohang, employing heavy artillery, field guns, and aircraft for continuous bombardment. The infantry capitalized on this to engage in close-quarters combat, resulting in heavy casualties on both sides. Meanwhile, Shirakawa secretly instructed the 11th Division to exploit the weakness of the Chinese troops in Liuhe, forcibly landing at Qiyakou, Yanglinkou, and Liubinkou, ultimately capturing Liuhe. The fall of Liuhe posed a significant threat to the flank and rear of the Chinese army, compelling the entire force to retreat to the second line of defense (the Jiading-Huangdu line) by the evening of March 1.  After 34 days of intense fighting, they were forced to retreat to their second line of defense. At this point, the war had entered its final phase, resulting in a stalemate between the two sides. On the 2nd, the Japanese army seized Shanghai, and by March 3, they occupied Zhenru and Nanxiang, subsequently announcing a ceasefire. Now while we have been focused on the Japanese and Chinese perspectives in this, the international community was also heavily involved in the background. After the outbreak of hostilities, the British and American consuls in Shanghai offered to mediate. However despite a ceasefire being implemented the hostilities continued. So on February 2nd, Britain, America, France, Italy and Germany sent a notice to China and Japan "proposing to stop the conflict; (1) both sides immediately stop all violent acts according to the following conditions; (2) there will be no mobilization or preparation for any hostile acts between the two countries; (3) the Chinese and Japanese combatants in Shanghai will withdraw from the contact points; (4) a neutral zone will be established to separate the combatants of both sides to protect the public concession. The area will be garrisoned by neutral military and police, and various methods will be formulated by the consular corps; (5) once the two countries accept the treaty, they will not make any demands or reservations in advance, but will quickly negotiate with the assistance of neutral observers or participants in accordance with the spirit of the Kellogg-War Pact and the December 9th League of Nations resolution to resolve all outstanding issues..." Nanjing generally accepted the terms, but Japan instead proposed non-military zones be established 20 miles around the major ports of Shanghai, Hankou, Tianjin, Qingdao and Guangzhou as a sort of counter proposal. Meanwhile at the League of Nations, Yan Huiqing was drawing attention to the Shanghai incident, obviously linking it to the Manchuria incident and advocated for Article 10 of the League of Nations Charter, which was in regards to respecting territorial integrity and political independence of league nations. The League of Nations agreed and organized a committee to investigate the Shanghai incident. On February 4th Chiang Kai-Shek would write in his diary "As long as we do not lose our national sovereignty and territory, and the Japanese invaders do not put forward unacceptable conditions, we can take advantage of the opportunity of British and American intervention to negotiate with them; we cannot take a tough stance when other countries intervene, which will lead to adverse effects." By late February US Secretary of State Henry Stimson warned Japan for the second time, that the Nine Power Treaty and other treaties had to be maintained. Then on the 23rd he sent a letter reiterating the nine-power treaty and Kellogg War Pact to the League of Nations in regards to the Shanghai situation. On the 29th, a four-point plan for mediating the Shanghai incident was adopted at the League of Nations. The objective was to swiftly establish a local ceasefire agreement with the assistance of civil and military officials from various countries present in Shanghai. Following this, a round-table meeting was to be convened with representatives from nations with vested interests in Shanghai to discuss security measures for the International Settlement, the French Concession, and the local residents, as well as to address other issues. Subsequently, representatives from Britain, France, Italy, Germany, Spain, and other nations unanimously supported the plan, with Chinese representative Yan Huiqing and Japanese representative Sato Naotake also indicating their general agreement in principle. However, on March 2, the situation escalated when the Japanese army compelled the Chinese forces to retreat to their second line of defense. The Japanese side adopted a more aggressive stance, presenting four stringent conditions and insisting that the Chinese army withdraw first before halting their attacks. The Japanese forces were only willing to withdraw to the Shanghai and Wusong areas and refused to do so under the supervision of neutral countries, which the Chinese government firmly rejected. On March 3, the Japanese army launched another offensive. On that same day, U.S. Secretary of State Stimson summoned Japanese Ambassador to the United States Idebuchi, condemning Japan for accepting the League of Nations resolution on February 29 while simultaneously escalating military operations. On March 3rd a ceasefire came into effect as a formal meeting was held at the British consulate. The Chinese delegation was led by Guo Taiqi, the Deputy Minister of Foreign Affairs, along with military representatives Dai Ji, Huang Qiang, and seven others. The Japanese delegation included Shigemitsu Mamoru, Minister to China, and military representatives Ueda, Tashiro, and nine others. Officials from Britain, the United States, France, and other nations also participated in the meeting. During the negotiations, numerous contentious issues arose, particularly regarding the timing and location of the Japanese army's withdrawal. It would take until May 5th for a armistice agreement to be signed. The agreement designated Shanghai as a demilitarized zone, prohibiting China from stationing troops in the areas around Shanghai, Suzhou, and Kunshan, while permitting a limited number of Japanese units to remain in the city. China was permitted to maintain only a small police force within Shanghai. According to Chinese war reports, a total of 10,254 Japanese soldiers were killed or wounded in the Battle of Shanghai on January 28. According to Japanese data, a total of 3,091 Japanese soldiers were killed or wounded in the invasion of Shanghai: 620 Japanese soldiers were killed and 1,622 were wounded in the army; 149 Japanese soldiers were killed and 700 were wounded in the navy. Another Chinese report, stated the 19th Route Army and the Fifth Army suffered a total of 14,104 casualties 4,274 killed and 9,830 wounded. Among them, the 19th Route Army suffered 8,792 casualties, while the Fifth Army suffered 5,312 casualties. Shanghai residents faced bombardments from Japanese aircraft and artillery, resulting in over 6,080 fatalities, more than 2,000 injuries, 10,400 missing persons, and property losses totaling 1.6 billion yuan. At the onset of the war, the Japanese military intentionally targeted cultural institutions in Shanghai, such as the Commercial Press and the Oriental Library, leading to the total destruction of the Commercial Press, the oldest and largest publishing house in China. The Oriental Library, which housed millions of volumes, including over 100,000 rare ancient texts from the Song and Yuan dynasties and the Sikuquanshu compiled during the Qianlong era of the Qing Dynasty, was first devastated by artillery fire and then looted by Japanese forces. Reports from that time indicated that the Japanese army used trucks to transport the remaining books for seven consecutive days. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. Thus what became known as the first battle of Shanghai had come to a not so swift end. Was its resolvement a victory for the League of Nations? Or was it just another indicator that the League of Nations was nothing but promises and pieces of paper? One man took notice of the Manchuria and Shanghai incidents, and he would soon bring Europe into a global war.  

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AnimeJapan's "Manga We Want To See Animated" poll just ended and we have our results! Not only do we go over the results but we reflect on the synopsis and talk about whether or not we'll watch these series if they get an anime adaptation!Join us as Aray & Aunn go over the results of the annual manga we want to see animated poll by AnimeJapan!Anime+ is a new pod that embodies everything anime and anime related.We're available anywhere that you listen to your podcasts:Apple Podcasts, Spotify, Google Podcast, Stitcher, and so much more!Youtube: The East Coast Brown CastTwitter: @Anime_Plus_PodIG/Tiktok: @animepluspodcastJoin Our Community on Discord: https://discord.gg/YZQUZQAKWaWebsite: https://animeplusnetwork.comSupport us on Patreon - patreon.com/user?u=90088772Make sure you check out all the other cool podcasts that our podcast network has!Geek Freak Network:https://linktr.ee/GeekFreaksNetworkhttps://discord.com/invite/anime-plusArticles used in this episode:Nue's Exorcist Tops AnimeJapan's 'Manga We Want to See Animated' Pollhttps://www.animenewsnetwork.com/interest/2025-03-13/nue-exorcist-tops-animejapan-manga-we-want-to-see-animated-poll/.222313Nue's Exorcist -https://myanimelist.net/manga/158849/Nue_no_OnmyoujiUsotsuki! Gokuou-kun -https://myanimelist.net/manga/106275/Usotsuki_Gokuou-kunFirefly Wedding -https://myanimelist.net/manga/154679/Hotaru_no_YomeiriPhantom Busters -https://myanimelist.net/manga/163455/Phantom_BustersKindergarten Wars -https://myanimelist.net/manga/151604/Youchien_WarsUgly Duckling of the Entertainment District -https://myanimelist.net/manga/160865/Minikui_Yuukaku_no_KoGokurakugai -https://myanimelist.net/manga/147874/GokurakugaiThe Person in a Villainess -https://myanimelist.net/manga/148542/Akuyaku_Reijou_no_Naka_no_Hito__Danzai_sareta_Tenseisha_no_Tame_Usotsuki_Heroine_ni_Fukushuu_ItashimasuJunket Bank -https://myanimelist.net/manga/145717/Junket_BankLove Bullet -https://myanimelist.net/manga/166372/Love_Bullet

In this episode, Kelly sat down with Cheryl Manning in California for a wide-ranging interview spanning from her time as a student of the California bonsai greats like John Naka and Harry Hirao to her time as a bonsai apprentice in Japan. See last week's episode for Part 1 which focused on Cheryl's time in bonsai as an apprentice in Japan and how she got started in the professional scene.The video version is ⁠⁠here.Show notes, relevant pictures, and links to Part 1 are available ⁠here.See you in the next episode!Guest Info:This episode features Cheryl Manning, an accomplished bonsai professional artist and writer. Find more of her work on her website, BetterBonsai.com.Sponsor Info:This episode is sponsored by (me!) In Vivo Bonsai of Columbus, Ohio. Find me in person, at invivobonsai.etsy.com, or go to ⁠https://www.InVivoBonsai.com⁠/ to see upcoming events, expanding online offerings, educational materials, and more. Support the Pod:Anytime you listen, subscribe, rate us, or share us with friends you help keep us motivated to keep making episodes for you all! If you want to take it to the next level, you can also help keep the podcast going by donating to us through Spotify or by sponsoring an episode (contact us directly for that). All donations go back into the podcast such as for our web hosting, recording gear expenses, etc.Podcast Info:The Bonsai Time Podcast is hosted, edited, & produced by Kevin Faris, Ryan Huston, & Kelly Lui. We expect to post new interviews and reflections monthly! Find us on YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, our website, and our email BonsaiTimePodcast@gmail.com.Submit questions or pictures for future Bonsai Brainstorm episodes to our email, social media DMs, or here.Music by MIDICANCER. Find more music by them on SoundCloud and BandCamp.Host info:Ryan is a former bonsai apprentice of Elandan Gardens and current operator of In Vivo Bonsai nursery and educational operation in Columbus, OH. Kevin is a bonsai student and local leader of many years now moving to Maryland. Kelly is a newer bonsai artist volunteering and studying especially in the Los Angeles area.More Bonsai Projects by Ryan:Read more about bonsai on his blog and learn more about his educational services here.Find Ryan's online-available bonsai products, seeds, tools, etc. here. Each seed kit sold comes with my full 10-year bonsai-from-seed guide.Find Ryan on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok as well if you need more bonsai in your feed.Also, check out some of my video editing work for the Puget Sound Bonsai Association and Columbus Bonsai Society's demonstration archives.

Last time we spoke about the Jinzhou Operation and Defense of Harbin. After the Mukden Incident, Zhang Xueliang, despite commanding a large army, was pressured into non-resistance against Japan. As tensions escalated, the Japanese bombed Jinzhou to intimidate Zhang Xueliang and the Kwantung Army prepared to invade. By January 1, 1932, Zhang's forces retreated, marking a significant loss for China. Meanwhile, Ma Zhanshan emerged as a resistance hero, navigating complex alliances against Japanese aggression. In the face of Japanese aggression, Ding Chao rallied forces in Harbin, a crucial city in Northeast China. Together with Ma Zhanshan and other generals, they formed the Kirin self-defense army to resist the Japanese advance. Despite fierce battles, including victories at Shuiqu and Shulan, the Japanese ultimately launched a full-scale assault. After intense fighting, Harbin fell on February 5, 1932. The resistance crumbled, leading to Ma Zhanshan's defection and the establishment of the puppet state of Manchukuo.   #143 The January 28th Incident Welcome to the Fall and Rise of China Podcast, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about the history of Asia? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on history of asia and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel where I cover the history of China and Japan from the 19th century until the end of the Pacific War. In the words of Ron Burgundy, “phew, Boy, that escalated quickly... I mean, that really got out of hand fast”. Ishiwara Kanji unleashed the Mukden Incident, beginning a series of military conflicts. The Kwantung army invaded all three provinces of Manchuria, Ma Zhanshan tried to fight back at Heilongjiang, Ding Chao at Harbin and Zhang Xueliang at Jinhouz. All of this culminated in the conquest of Manchuria and the establishment of the new puppet state of Manchukuo. Yet another significant conflict also broke out in Shanghai of all places.  Now before we start this one I want to point out there are a lot of bias issues with how this incident began. It is known as the January 28th Incident or the First Battle of Shanghai. There are a few arguments as to how exactly it began, but the two main narratives are as such. During the invasion of Manchuria, anti-Japanese demonstrations broke out across China, particularly in large cities like Shanghai and Guangzhou. In most Japanese sources, these demonstrations got out of hand, requiring military action to defend Japanese citizens and property in Shanghai. Now as for Chinese sources, and I will say it here, I place a lot more credibility on the Chinese side on this one, during the Invasion of Manchuria, the League of Nations passed resolutions to get the Japanese to withdraw their troops and many of the members expressed support for China. Although the United States was not a member of the League, Secretary of State Stimson issued a "non-recognition" note in response to Japan's occupation of Jinzhou, aiming to pressure Japan. This isolation in the international arena heightened anxiety within the Japanese government and military, prompting them to seek conflicts in other regions of China to divert attention from their invasion of Manchuria.  Now a lot of trouble had been stirred up in Shanghai ever since the Mukden Incident broke out. Shanghai's business community initiated a boycott of Japanese trade, significantly impacting Japan's coastal and Yangtze River shipping industries. To give one example the "Nissin Steamship Company" halted all operations since the incident. Between July 1931 and the end of March 1932, Japanese merchants in Shanghai reportedly suffered losses amounting to 41,204,000 yen . To give you an idea, in 1930, Japanese goods accounted for 29% of Shanghai's average monthly imports, but by December 1931, this figure had plummeted to 3%. On October 5, 1931, the Japanese government convened a cabinet meeting, resolving that the Ministry of Foreign Affairs would issue a stern warning to the National Government, with the Foreign Minister and Navy Minister overseeing the issue of ship deployment. Shanghai was the key hub for Western powers in China. It was here they made significant investments and maintained strong commercial interests in the region. The political and economic dynamics among these powers were intricate. Shanghai held the largest amount of foreign settlements and concessions. Any outbreak of war in Shanghai would inevitably capture international attention and prompt intervention from nations with vested interests, such as Britain, the United States, and France.  On October 1, Tanaka Takayoshi, the assistant military attaché at the Japanese Consulate in Shanghai and head of the Shanghai Secret Service, was summoned to Shenyang by Colonel Seishirō Itagaki who told him "Our next move is to occupy Harbin and make Manchuria independent. We have sent Colonel Doihara to pick up Puyi. If we succeed, the League of Nations will have a big fight and the Tokyo government will have a headache. I want you to do something in Shanghai to divert the attention of other countries. When you cause a commotion, we will take Manchuria." Tanaka promised to complete the task and said that he was "training an excellent spy who can bribe Chinese troublemakers in Shanghai to start this fake war".  Itagaki then withdrew 20,000 yen from the Kwantung Army's secret service funds and provided it to Tanaka for operational purposes. Now here it gets wild. Tanaka took the funds and paid a Japanese female spy named Kawashima Yoshiko, known also as Jin Bihui, but whose birthname was Aisin Giori Xianyu with the courtesy name of Dongzhen, meaning “eastern jewel”. Yes Manchu royalty, to be more precise the 14th daughter of Shanqi a Manchu prince of the Aisin Gioro clan of the former Qing Dynasty. Shanqi was a descendant of Hooge, the eldest son of Hong Taiji, it all comes full circle sometimes. After the Xinhai revolution, Xianyu was given up for adoption in 1915 to her fathers friend Naniwa Kawashima, a Japanese spy and adventurer. Thus here she took the name Yoshiko Kawashima. She was raised in Tokyo and excelled at judo and fencing. In 1922 he biological father Shanqi died and as Manchu royal tradition dictated, her biological mother committed suicide to join her husband in death. On November 22nd of 1925, Yoshiko stated the she “decided to cease being a woman forever”. Henceforth she stopped wearing a kimono, undid her traditional female hair style and took a final photo to commemorate “my farewell to life as a woman”. That same evening she went to a barbershop and got a crew cut and from there went to a men's clothing store. A photo of this dramatic transformation appeared 5 days later in the Asahi Shimbun under the headline "Kawashima Yoshiko's Beautiful Black Hair Completely Cut Off - Because of Unfounded 'Rumors,' Makes Firm Decision to Become a Man - Touching Secret Tale of Her Shooting Herself". This title was in reference to a prior scandal where she allegedly shot herself in the chest with a pistol given to her by Iwata Ainosuke. Historians believe it is much more likely she chose to become a man because of the death of her parents, failed romances or possibly sexual abuse from her foster father. Kawashima would go on to explain to a new reporter two days later "I was born with what the doctors call a tendency toward the third sex, and so I cannot pursue an ordinary woman's goals in life... Since I was young I've been dying to do the things that boys do. My impossible dream is to work hard like a man for China, for Asia." She was in fact something of a tomboy in her youth, despite being quite beautiful.  Now obviously the times being the times, those close to her were, lets just say not very receptive to this dramatic change. Thus in November of 1927, at the age of 20, her brother and adoptive father arranged her marriage in Port Arthur to one Ganjuurjab, the son of the Inner Mongolian Army General Babojab, who had led the Mongolian-Manchurian Independence Movement in 1911. The marriage lasted only three years, ending in divorce. Following this, she left Mongolia and began touring coastal cities of China before adopting a bohemian lifestyle back in Tokyo, where she had relationships with both men and women. She then moved to Shanghai's foreign concession, where she met the Japanese military attaché and intelligence officer Ryukichi Tanaka. This takes us back to our story at hand.  On the afternoon of January 18th, 1932, Yoshiko Kawashima orchestrated an incident by enlisting two Japanese Nichiren monks and three other Japanese supporters to stir up trouble at the Sanyou Industrial Company headquarters on Mayushan Road, located near the East District of the Shanghai International Settlement. The group of five Japanese individuals watched the worker volunteer army training outside the factory and threw stones to provoke a confrontation, intentionally sparking a conflict. Prior to this, Yoshiko Kawashima had also hired thugs disguised as workers to blend in with the crowd. During the altercation, the five Japanese individuals were attacked by unknown assailants. The Japanese Consulate General later reported that one of the Japanese individuals had died and another was seriously injured. However, the police were unable to apprehend the culprits, prompting Japan to accuse the Chinese factory patrol team of being behind the attack. This event became known as the "Japanese monk incident."   At 2:40 am on January 20, following orders from  Yoshiko, the military police captain Chiharu Shigeto led 32 members of the Shanghai "Japanese Youth Comrades Association in China" to sneak into the Sanyou Industrial Company factory. They brought guns, bayonets, and other weapons, along with flammable materials such as saltpeter and kerosene. Dozens of members of the Japanese Youth Association set fire to the Sanyou Industrial Society at night , and hacked to death and injured two Chinese policemen from the Municipal Council who came to organize firefighting. That afternoon, Tanaka Takayoshi instigated 1,200 Japanese expatriates to gather at the Japanese Residents' Association on Wenjianshi Road, and marched along Beichuan Road to the Japanese Marine Corps Headquarters at the north end of the road, demanding that the Japanese Marine Corps intervene. When they reached Qiujiang Road, they started rioting and attacked Chinese shops. In response, Shanghai Mayor Wu Tiecheng formally protested to Japan. Japan in return demanding a formal apology from the mayor and the apprehension of the person responsible for the death of the Japanese monk. Japan also insisted that China pay compensation for medical and funeral expenses, handle the anti-Japanese protests, and immediately disband any groups hostile to Japan. China had the option to firmly reject these unreasonable demands. On the morning of January 21, Japanese Consul General Murai Kuramatsu met with Shanghai Mayor Wu Tiecheng to express regret for the Japanese arson and the killing of Chinese police officers. He promised to arrest the Japanese ronin responsible for the fire. At the same time, he presented a formal protest regarding the "Japanese monk incident" and outlined four demands: (1) The mayor must issue an apology to the Consul General; (2) The authorities should swiftly and effectively search for, arrest, and punish the perpetrators; (3) The five victims should receive medical compensation and consolation money; (4) All illegal actions against Japan should be prohibited, with the Shanghai Anti-Japanese National Salvation Association and other anti-Japanese groups disbanded promptly.  Starting on January 22, Admiral Shiozawa of the Japanese Navy and Consul General Murai demanded that Shanghai Mayor Wu dissolve anti-Japanese groups and halt any boycott activities. Representatives of Japanese business conglomerates also filed complaints with the Shanghai International Settlement's Municipal Council, calling for an official apology from China for the offensive report and attacks on monks, and demanding that the attackers be punished. As tensions rose, the Japanese Residents Association urged Japanese naval forces in Shanghai to take measures to protect their safety. That same day Yukichi Shiozawa, Commander of the 1st Japanese Expeditionary Fleet in Shanghai, made a threatening declaration, stating that if the mayor of Shanghai failed to respond adequately to the four demands presented by Matsui, the Japanese Navy would take "appropriate action." Even before this the Japanese Navy had deployed troops and sent additional warships to Shanghai under the pretext of protecting its citizens In addition to the warships that arrived in Shanghai after the Mukden incident, the Japanese Navy sent the cruiser Oi and the 15th Destroyer Squadron (comprising four destroyers) from the mainland Wu Port on January 21. They carried over 450 personnel from the 1st Special Marine Corps along with a large supply of arms and arrived in Shanghai on January 23. The following day, the Notoro special service ship (an aircraft carrier of 14,000 tons, carrying six aircraft) anchored in Port Arthur, also arrived in Shanghai. On January 22, the Japanese government convened a meeting and decided to take appropriate measures, with Navy Minister Osumi Tsuneo handling the situation as deemed necessary. By January 25, the heads of the Japanese Navy Ministry and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs held a joint session, where they agreed that if the Chinese side failed to demonstrate sincerity or meet Japan's demands, force would be used to ensure compliance. They also agreed on specific “emergency actions." On January 26, the Navy Ministry met again and resolved to demonstrate Japan's military strength within the next day or two. The proposed measures were as follows: (1) If the Shanghai garrison was insufficient, the Second Fleet would be deployed; (2) Japanese citizens in Shanghai would be directly protected; (3) The Japanese Navy would secure the route from Wusong to Shanghai; (4) All Chinese vessels would be detained outside Wusongkou; (5) Additional warships would be sent to ports in Nanjing, Hankou, Guangzhou, Shantou, Xiamen, and other locations, with civil unrest in those areas also being addressed. Emperor Hirohito authorized the Japanese Navy's military actions. On the 26th, Hirohito's military meeting, led by Chief of Staff Prince Kan'in (Prince Zaihito), ordered Yukichi Shiozawa in Shanghai to "exercise the right of self-defense." That same day, the Japanese Navy Ministry urgently deployed the 1st Torpedo Squadron (flagship "Yubari" cruiser, accompanied by the 22nd, 23rd, and 30th Destroyer Squadrons, totaling 12 destroyers), with over 460 personnel from the 2nd Special Marine Corps, which arrived in Shanghai on the afternoon of January 28. By this time, the Japanese military had gathered 24 warships, over 40 aircraft, more than 1,830 marines, and between 3,000 to 4,000 armed personnel in Shanghai, stationed across the Japanese concession and along the Huangpu River. On January 28, the Japanese Navy Ministry instructed the deployment of the aircraft carriers Kaga and Hosho, the cruisers Naka, Yura, and Abukuma, and four mine carriers from the mainland to Shanghai. Back on the 24th, 1932, Japanese intelligence agents set fire to the residence of the Japanese Ambassador to China, Shigemitsu Mamoru, in Shanghai, falsely accusing the Chinese of the act. On the 27th, Murai issued an ultimatum to the Shanghai authorities, demanding a satisfactory response to four conditions by 18:00 on the 28th, threatening necessary actions if the deadline was not met. Meanwhile, with threats and rumors of a Japanese naval landing circulating in Shanghai, the nearby 19th route army units moved closer to the International Settlement's Little Tokyo. The 19th Route Army of the Guangdong Army was in charge of defending Shanghai at the time, with Jiang Guangnai serving as the commander-in-chief and Cai Tingkai as the commander. Chen Mingshu, the leader of the 19th Route Army and commander of the Beijing-Shanghai garrison, was a strong proponent of responding to the Japanese army's provocations. The Chinese public, along with critics of the Nanjing government, called for punishment of the Manchurian warlord forces who had failed to halt the Kwantung Army's blitzkrieg, which encouraged officers of the 19th Route army to take a firm stance. As the Nanjing government had not enacted any policies, General Cai Tingkai and his colleagues convened an emergency meeting on January 23, pledging to resist any potential Japanese naval invasion of Shanghai at all costs. Now the Nanjing government response to this crisis was quite chaotic as you can imagine. There was still a anti communist campaign going on, Manchuria was being taken over and Chiang Kai-Shek fully understood they could ill afford an all out war with Japan. There was a general feeling things were getting out of hand, the league of nations were failing to do anything. Thus Chiang Kai-Shek retained his passive stance. On January 23rd after extensive consultations with Wang Jingwei and Chiang Kai-shek, newly appointed Executive Yuan President Sun Ke urgently telegraphed Shanghai Mayor Wu Tiecheng. "Our priority should be the preservation of Shanghai as the economic center, adopting a moderate stance towards Japan's demands. We must immediately gather all sectors to diplomatically explain our position and avoid conflict to prevent Shanghai from being seized by force." That same day, Minister of Military Affairs He Yingqin also sent a telegram to Wu Tiecheng, emphasizing, "Shanghai is our economic hub, and we must continue peaceful negotiations and avoid conflict." On that same day He Yingqin instructed the 19th Route Army to withdraw from Shanghai and relocate west of Nanxiang within five days. Zhang Jingjiang then invited Cai Tingkai to Du Yuesheng's home, where he convinced the 19th Route Army to "withdraw to the Nanxiang area to avoid confrontation with the Japanese." Upon learning of the Nationalist government's position, both Chiang Kai-shek and Cai Ying-ying were disappointed, but they expressed willingness to follow military orders and withdraw from Shanghai. As Chiang Guangnai put it, "We must simply obey the government's orders." On the afternoon of January 27, Chief of Staff Zhu Peide and Minister of Military Affairs He Yingqin deployed the 6th Military Police Regiment to assume responsibility for defending the 19th Route Army's positions in the Zhabei area of Shanghai. The regiment departed Nanjing Station at 8 pm on January 27, reaching Zhenru by noon on the 28th. The first battalion arrived at Shanghai North Station that afternoon, preparing to take over defense from the 6th Regiment of the 156th Brigade of the 78th Division of the 19th Route Army in Zhabei at dawn on January 29. Back on the 27th, after Murai issued an ultimatum to the Chinese authorities in Shanghai, Mayor Wu Tiecheng, responding to a request from both the Nanjing National Government and various sectors of Shanghai, sent a letter on the 28th at 13:45 accepting all the unreasonable demands made by the Japanese. Later, at 11:05 pm the Shanghai Public Security Bureau received a response from Murai, which was directed to both Mayor Wu Tiecheng and the head of the Shanghai Public Security Bureau. In the letter, Murai expressed "satisfaction" with Shanghai's acceptance of Japan's four demands, but also insisted on the withdrawal of Chinese troops from Zhabei, citing the need to protect overseas Chinese. Wu Tiecheng received this response at 11:25 pm At 11:30 pm, without waiting for a reply from the Chinese side, the Japanese military launched an attack on the Chinese garrison in Zhabei. In response, Weng Zhaoyuan's troops from the 156th Brigade of the 78th Division of the 19th Route Army, along with part of the 6th Regiment of the Military Police that had been sent to reinforce the defense, fought back.  During the January 28 Incident, the 19th Route Army, stationed in the Beijing-Shanghai area, was the Chinese military force involved. Following the September 18 Incident, Chiang Kai-shek entered into negotiations with the Guangdong faction. As part of these discussions between Nanjing and Guangdong, the Guangdong side proposed that Chen Mingshu, a Cantonese leader, be appointed as the commander-in-chief of the Beijing-Shanghai garrison. On September 30, 1931, Chiang Kai-shek agreed to this proposal. Consequently, the 19th Route Army, under Chen Mingshu's command, was transferred from Ganzhou, Jiangxi, where it had been stationed after the September 18 Incident (following Chiang's decision to halt "suppressing the Communists"), to defend the Beijing-Shanghai area. By November, the army was fully deployed along the Beijing-Shanghai line. The military leadership included Jiang Guangnai as commander-in-chief, Cai Tingkai as army commander, and Dai Ji as the garrison commander. The army was composed of the 60th Division, led by Shen Guanghan, stationed in Suzhou and Changzhou; the 61st Division, led by Mao Weishou, stationed in Nanjing and Zhenjiang; and the 78th Division, led by Qu Shounian, stationed in Shanghai, Wusong, Kunshan, and Jiading. The total strength of the army was over 33,000 soldiers. By early November, after the 19th Route Army had secured the Beijing and Shanghai areas, the military leadership, influenced by the Shanghai populace's strong anti-Japanese sentiment, resolved to resist the impending Japanese invasion. On January 15th the 19th Route Army assessed intelligence indicating an inevitable Japanese attack and began preparing for defense, less than two weeks before the invasion. On th 19th Jiang Guangnai convened a meeting of the 19th Route Army officers in Shanghai. During the meeting, several strategic policies were decided, as recalled by Cai Tingkai. These included. Maintaining an invisible state of alert in response to potential enemy harassment. Ensuring that frontline units were adequately reinforced, with Qu Shounian's division tasked with holding for at least five days. Rapidly constructing fortifications in each defense zone, while rear units pre-select lines of resistance. Ensuring that the 60th and 61st divisions could reinforce Shanghai within five days of the start of hostilities. Establishing a stance on the Shanghai Concession. Issuing an order that, starting January 20, no officers or soldiers were to remain in the concession unless on official duty. On January 23, 1932, under mounting pressure from Japan, Chen Mingshu, Jiang Guangnai, Cai Tingkai, and others issued a "Letter to All Officers and Soldiers of the 19th Route Army," urging a great spirit of sacrifice. On the same day, the army issued a secret combat order, stating that they must be fully prepared for war to defend the nation. If the Japanese attacked, all efforts should be focused on repelling them. The 19th Route Army was poised to resist the Japanese invasion in the Songhu area.   On January 24, 1932, Cai Tingkai and his colleagues arrived in Suzhou and held an emergency meeting with senior garrison commanders, including Shen Guanghan, to communicate the secret order issued on January 23. The generals unanimously supported the directive. However, under pressure from the National Government to avoid war, Chiang, Cai, and others reluctantly agreed to comply with an order to withdraw from Shanghai. They ordered the Zhabei garrison to exchange duties with the 6th Military Police Regiment on the morning of January 29. Due to the tense situation, the commander of the 156th Brigade of the 78th Division instructed the 6th Regiment at Zhabei to remain on high alert. At 11:00 PM on January 28, Dai Ji also ordered strict vigilance to prevent the Japanese army from occupying Zhabei during the guard change, instructing all units to take their positions and be on high alert. At 11:30 pm on January 28, 1932, Major General Shiozawa and the Japanese Marine Corps unexpectedly attacked the Chinese garrison located on the west side of North Sichuan Road. In response, the 6th Regiment of the 156th Brigade of the 19th Route Army, commanded by Zhang Junsong, promptly initiated a strong counteroffensive. At that moment, the Japanese forces, spearheaded by over 20 armored vehicles, split into five groups and launched assaults from different intersections in Zhabei. Upon receiving news of the Japanese attack, Jiang Guangnai, Cai Tingkai, and Dai Ji hurried to Zhenru Station on foot during the night, established a temporary command center, and instructed the rear troops to advance swiftly to Shanghai as per the original plan. At dawn on the 29th, the Japanese forces launched a series of intense assaults, supported by armored vehicles. Aircraft from the carrier "Notoro" bombed the Zhabei and Nanshi districts, leading to rapid escalation of the conflict. The 156th Brigade of the defending forces fiercely resisted the Japanese advances, using cluster grenades against the enemy's armored units and organizing stealth squads to sabotage enemy vehicles. They held their positions and counterattacked at opportune moments under artillery cover, successfully repelling the relentless Japanese assaults. According to Japanese accounts, the battle was described as "extremely fierce, with fires raging everywhere, flames filling the sky, and the battlefield in a state of devastation." At around 10 am, Japanese aircraft dropped bombs, causing the Commercial Press and the Oriental Library to catch fire, resulting in the destruction of over 300,000 books, including many rare ancient texts. More than a thousand Japanese soldiers, shielded by heavy artillery and armored vehicles, launched a vigorous attack at the intersection of Baoshan Road and Qiujiang Road, aiming to seize the Shanghai North Railway Station. This station was a crucial land transport hub, and its control was vital for the safety of the entire Zhabei area. At 2 pm on the 29th, taking advantage of the chaos at the North Station, the Japanese forces mounted a fierce assault. A company from our military police engaged in combat with the Japanese for an hour before withdrawing from the station. By 5 pm on the 29th, the main force of the 156th Brigade entered the fray and launched a counteroffensive, reclaiming both the North Station and Tiantong'an Station. They pressed their advantage and captured the Japanese Shanghai Marine Corps Headquarters, forcing the Japanese troops to retreat east of North Sichuan Road and south of Target Road. The initial Japanese offensive ended in defeat. Following the setback, British and American consuls intervened to mediate in the afternoon of the 29th (the Shanghai government stated it was at the request of the Japanese consuls, while the League of Nations report indicated it was initiated by the mayor of Shanghai). The Chinese and Japanese forces agreed to cease hostilities at 8 pm that night. Although the 19th Route Army recognized this as a delaying tactic, they consented to the ceasefire to allow for troop redeployment. Concurrently, the 19th Route Army strengthened their positions, urgently ordering the 60th Division from east of Zhenjiang to move into Nanxiang and Zhenru, while transferring the 61st Division to Shanghai. The 78th Division, stationed in Shanghai, was fully mobilized to the front lines to bolster defenses and prepare for further combat. Following the ceasefire, the Japanese army made significant efforts to bolster its forces. The Japanese Navy Ministry promptly dispatched four destroyers from the Sasebo 26th Squadron, under the command of the cruiser "Tatsuta," to reach Shanghai on January 30 and dock at Huangpu Wharf. Accompanying the vessels were 474 soldiers from the Sasebo 3rd Special Marine Corps, along with a substantial supply of ammunition. On the morning of January 31, the Japanese aircraft carriers Kaga and Hosho reached Shanghai, bringing approximately 30 aircraft from the First Air Fleet. They anchored off the coast of the Ma'an Islands, about 130 kilometers east of Shanghai. By 4 pm, three cruisers Naka , Yura , and Abukuma along with four torpedo boats arrived in Shanghai, transporting over 2,000 marines who disembarked in groups. On February 1, the Japanese cruise ship "Terukoku Maru," carrying the Yokosuka 1st Special Marine Corps 525 men, docked at Shanghai Huishan Wharf. On the 2nd, the Japanese Navy Central Headquarters established the Third Fleet with ships from the First Overseas Fleet in the Yangtze River area, with the Izumo serving as the flagship (the Izumo arrived in Shanghai on February 6) under the command of Vice Admiral Yoshisaburo Nomura, to execute coordinated military operations. Following the reinforcement of Japanese forces, they resumed attacks on Chinese defenders in Zhabei, Baziqiao, and other locations on February 3 but were still repelled. On February 4, the Japanese launched their first major offensive, expanding the conflict to Jiangwan and Wusong. After a day of intense fighting, the Wusong open-air artillery fort suffered destruction from enemy bombardment, yet the Chinese defenders successfully prevented a Japanese landing. The anti-aircraft artillery unit from the 88th Division, assigned to the 4th Regiment of the 156th Brigade of the 19th Route Army, shot down a Japanese aircraft. Following the failure of the general offensive, Yukiichi Shiozawa was relieved of his command and sent back to Japan. Vice Admiral Yoshisaburo Nomura, the newly appointed commander of the Third Fleet, took over Shiozawa's position. Upon his appointment, the Japanese military began to bolster its forces. Even before the situation in Shanghai escalated, Japan had planned to deploy ground troops, but this was initially rejected by the navy. However, as the situation deteriorated, the navy had to request assistance from the army. On February 2, the Japanese cabinet officially decided to deploy ground forces. Due to the urgent circumstances in Shanghai, they resolved to send the Shanghai Dispatch Mixed Brigade, led by Major General Shimomoto Kuma and the 9th Division, led by Lieutenant General Ueda Kenkichi, with the Shanghai Dispatch Mixed Brigade and the Second Independent Tank Squadron being transported first. Concurrently, the Japanese Navy dispatched the Yokosuka 2nd Special Marine Corps to Shanghai. The 24th Mixed Brigade landed in Wusong on the afternoon of February 7.  Now within the backdrop of all of this Nanjing was certainly freaking out. What had started as a small incident, had escalated into a full blown battle. The Japanese were continuously sending reinforcements, and now so was China. Chiang Kai-Shek had recently resigned and came back as Generalissimo ushering in the slogan "first internal pacification, then external resistance." With that he had led a massive campaign against the Jiangxi Soviet, while avoiding a frontal war against Japan. Obviously this led to wide scale protest in China, which in turn contributed to this new incident in Shanghai. The Shanghai incident was certainly disrupting Chiang Kai-Shek's offensives against the communists, allowing those like Hu Hanmin's Guangdong based 19th Route Army to deal with the Japanese at Shanghai. Yet how long could Chiang Kai-Shek keep this up? Should he divert all attention to the Japanese? Will he step down again in shame for not facing the encroaching foreign empire?  I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. The January 28th Incident was yet another powder keg like moment for the very vulnerable and still fractured Chinese nation. Chiang Kai-Shek had internal enemies left-right and center and now the Empire of Japan was pressing its luck to keep seizing more and more from his nation. What was the Generalissimo to do in the face of these insurmountable odds?   

In this episode, Kelly sat down with Cheryl Manning in California for a wide-ranging interview spanning from her time as a student of the California bonsai greats like John Naka and Harry Hirao to her time as a bonsai apprentice in Japan. Stay tuned for next week's Part 2 which focuses on how she has seen the California bonsai scene evolve over her professional career. The video version is ⁠⁠here.Show notes, relevant pictures, and links are available ⁠⁠⁠⁠coming soon.See you in the next episode!Guest Info:This episode features Cheryl Manning, an accomplished bonsai professional artist and writer. Find more of her work on her website, BetterBonsai.com.Sponsor Info:This episode is sponsored by (me!) In Vivo Bonsai of Columbus, Ohio. Find me in person, at invivobonsai.etsy.com, or go to ⁠https://www.InVivoBonsai.com⁠/ to see upcoming events, expanding online offerings, educational materials, and more. Support the Pod:Anytime you listen, subscribe, rate us, or share us with friends you help keep us motivated to keep making episodes for you all! If you want to take it to the next level, you can also help keep the podcast going by donating to us through Spotify or by sponsoring an episode (contact us directly for that). All donations go back into the podcast such as for our web hosting, recording gear expenses, etc.Podcast Info:The Bonsai Time Podcast is hosted, edited, & produced by Kevin Faris, Ryan Huston, & Kelly Lui. We expect to post new interviews and reflections monthly! Find us on YouTube, Facebook, Instagram, TikTok, our website, and our email BonsaiTimePodcast@gmail.com.Submit questions or pictures for future Bonsai Brainstorm episodes to our email, social media DMs, or here.Music by MIDICANCER. Find more music by them on SoundCloud and BandCamp.Host info:Ryan is a former bonsai apprentice of Elandan Gardens and current operator of In Vivo Bonsai nursery and educational operation in Columbus, OH. Kevin is a bonsai student and local leader of many years now moving to Maryland. Kelly is a newer bonsai artist volunteering and studying especially in the Los Angeles area.More Bonsai Projects by Ryan:Read more about bonsai on his blog and learn more about his educational services here.Find Ryan's online-available bonsai products, seeds, tools, etc. here. Each seed kit sold comes with my full 10-year bonsai-from-seed guide.Find Ryan on Facebook, Instagram, YouTube, and TikTok as well if you need more bonsai in your feed.Also, check out some of my video editing work for the Puget Sound Bonsai Association and Columbus Bonsai Society's demonstration archives.

Last time we spoke about the Great Tokyo Air Raid. Amidst fierce battles, Liversedge's forces captured key hills but faced relentless Japanese machine-gun fire. Despite heavy casualties, the Marines advanced, securing strategic positions. General Kuribayashi recognized their struggle, while the Japanese counterattacks faltered. After 19 grueling days, the last pockets of resistance fell, marking a costly victory for the Americans. Amid the fierce battle of Iwo Jima, General LeMay shifted tactics, launching incendiary raids on Tokyo. On March 9, 1945, 334 B-29s unleashed destruction, igniting widespread fires and devastating neighborhoods. The attack shattered Japanese morale, while LeMay's strategy proved effective, paving the way for further offensives in the Pacific. On March 3, three brigades attacked Meiktila, facing fierce resistance. Tanks overwhelmed Japanese forces, resulting in heavy casualties. As Cowan fortified defenses, Japanese counterattacks intensified. Meanwhile, in Mandalay, British-Indian troops advanced, capturing key positions. Amidst confusion and conflicting orders, the Allies pressed forward, striving for victory in Burma. This episode is the Fall of Mandalay Welcome to the Pacific War Podcast Week by Week, I am your dutiful host Craig Watson. But, before we start I want to also remind you this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Perhaps you want to learn more about world war two? Kings and Generals have an assortment of episodes on world war two and much more  so go give them a look over on Youtube. So please subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry for some more history related content, over on my channel, the Pacific War Channel you can find a few videos all the way from the Opium Wars of the 1800's until the end of the Pacific War in 1945.  We are first picking up this week with the men fighting over northern Luzon. By March 5, General Clarkson's 33rd Division had advanced to Agoo and Pago while gradually pushing the enemy along Route 11. Meanwhile, Colonel Volckmann's guerrilla force was carrying out limited offensives in the Laoag, Cervantes, and San Fernando regions. Coming into Salacsac Pass from the west, the Villa Verde Trail twists up the wooded western slopes of a steep-sided height known to the 32nd Division as Hill 502. Another peak, bare crested, forming part of the same hill mass and named Hill 503, centers 250 yards northeast of the crest of Hill 502, while a similar distance to the southeast is Hill 504. Winding along the southern slopes of Hills 502 and 504, the trail continues eastward through a low saddle about 500 yards long, climbing again up the forested northwestern side of Hill 505. After crossing that hill, the trail follows a twisting course 600 yards--as the crow flies--eastward, hugging the densely wooded northern slopes of Hills 506A and 506B. Off the northeast corner of Hill 506B the trail turns south for 1000 yards--again a straight-line distance--and traverses the east side of the noses of Hill 507, designated from north to south A, B, C and D. Turning sharply east again near Hill 507D, the trail continues east another 700 yards and then enters a deep wooded saddle between Hill 508 on the south and Hill 515 to the north. After passing through this saddle, which is about 250 yards long east to west, the trail goes on eastward, dominated on the north by Hills 516 and 525. Roughly 1250 yards beyond the saddle the trail twists across the northern slopes of Hill 526, which lying about 500 yards southeast of Hill 525, marks the eastern limits of the Salacsac Pass area. A mile and a quarter of less rugged but still forested and difficult terrain lies between Hill 526 and barrio Imugan, in turn two and a quarter miles west of Santa Fe.  Meanwhile General Mullins' 25th Division had successfully taken control of Puncan and Digdig. Due to this unexpectedly swift progress, General Swift instructed Mullins to continue advancing toward Putlan while the 1st Battalion, 127th Regiment fought for control of Hill 502, which was secured on March 7. In response, Mullins dispatched the 161st Regiment to attack the high ground west of Route 5, the 27th Regiment to advance along and east of the highway, and the 35th Regiment to execute a wide envelopment to the east. Since this last flank approach to Putlan was completely undefended, the 1st Battalion, 35th Regiment quickly occupied Putlan on March 8. The following day, the 27th Regiment also arrived in the area and began clearing Japanese stragglers from the ravines east of Route 5 near the barrio, a task that would not be finished until March 15. Finally, despite facing rough terrain and light resistance, the 161st Regiment reached Putlan on March 10, successfully securing the high ground to the west. To the north, as the 1st Battalion, 127th Regiment struggled to make significant progress eastward after capturing Hill 502, Gill decided to send the 3rd Battalion, 127th Regiment to outflank the Salacsac Pass defenses from the south.  Although the extremely rough, precipitous mountain country of the Salacsac Pass area, averaging 4500 feet above sea level, was covered by dense rainforest, from Hill 506B to Hill 526, there was sufficient open ground throughout to provide the defender with excellent observation. It was not too difficult for the Japanese to find positions whence they could cover with fire every square foot of the Villa Verde Trail through the pass area. The twisting of the trail also provided defense opportunities, for in a given 1000 yards of straight-line distance through the pass, the trail might actually cover a ground distance of 3000 yards. Whatever its shortcomings in other fields, the Japanese Army always had a feel for terrain, exploiting to the full every advantage the ground offered. Thus, as it moved up, the 2nd Tank Division set to work to establish a system of mutually supporting defensive positions in order to control every twist of the Villa Verde Trail and every fold in the ground throughout the pass area. Every knoll and hillock on or near the trail was the site of at least one machine gun emplacement; every wooded draw providing a route for outflanking a position was zeroed in for artillery or mortars. The cave, natural or man-made, came to characterize the defenses. Artillery was employed in quantity and quality not often encountered in engagements against the Japanese, who, as usual, made excellent use of their light and medium mortars. Finally, the 2nd Tank Division was overstocked in automatic weapons, evidently having available many more than the 32nd Division could bring to bear. To the west, following recent successes in patrols, Clarkson opted to establish a new "secure line" stretching from Aringay southeast through Pugo to Route 11 at Twin Peaks. Consequently, patrols quickly secured Aringay and Caba without facing any opposition, then advanced east along the trails to Pugo and Galiano, and north to Bauang, where they continued to encounter minimal enemy presence. As a result of these movements, the Hayashi Detachment was ultimately withdrawn to bolster the main defenses at Sablan, enabling Volckman's 121st Regiment to enter San Fernando on March 14. Additionally, elements of the 19th Division began arriving in the Cervantes area from Baguio and successfully expelled the guerrilla company from the town in early March. The Filipinos recaptured Cervantes on March 13 but soon found themselves targeted by Japanese artillery positioned on elevated ground. Meanwhile, looking south, by March 5, General Patrick's 6th Division had commenced unsuccessful assaults on Mounts Pacawagan and Mataba, while General Hoffman's 2nd Cavalry Brigade struggled to advance toward the Antipolo area. Recognizing that the success of his attack required a concentration of forces along a narrower front, General Griswold decided to focus on the Noguchi Force and the left flank of the Kobayashi Force, as the northern area was heavily fortified. He retained only one battalion as an infantry reserve and directed the remainder of his available forces, all of which were understrength, to push eastward. Alongside the deployment of the 1st Cavalry Brigade, the 103rd Regiment reached Taytay on March 7 to serve as the 1st Cavalry Division Reserve, signaling the upcoming relief of the cavalrymen in preparation for their redeployment to southern Luzon. By March 10, General Wing's 43rd Division had been replaced in the Clark Field area by the 38th Division and was en route to the eastern front.  The 38th Division pushed on into the untracked, ill-explored, and worse-mapped wilderness of the central Zambales Range, its progress slowed more by supply problems than Japanese resistance. In early April the division noted that the last vestiges of any controlled defensive effort had disappeared. Unknown to 11th Corps General Tsukada, on April 6, had given up and had ordered his remaining forces to disperse and continue operations, if possible, as guerrillas. For the Japanese remnants, it was a case of sauve qui peut. Some tried to escape to Luzon's west coast, whence 38th Division troops were already patrolling inland; others tried to make their way north through the mountains, only to be cut down by American patrols working southward from Camp O'Donnell. The 38th Division had killed about 8000 of the scattering Japanese by the time it was relieved by units of the 6th Division on May 3. The losses of the 38th totaled approximately 100 men killed and 500 wounded. The 6th Division, elements of which remained in the Kembu area until June 25, limited its operations to patrolling and setting up trail blocks along Japanese routes of escape. Troops of the 38th Division ultimately returned to the region and remained there until the end of the war. Insofar as US forces were concerned, the mop-up period under 11th Corps control was even more costly than had been the 14th Corps' offensive period. From February 21 to the end of June the various elements of 11th Corps committed to action against the Kembu Group lost approximately 550 men killed and 2200 wounded. The Kembu Group, during the same period, lost 12500 killed or dead from starvation and disease. By the end of the war the original 30000 troops of the Kembu Group were reduced to approximately 1500 sorry survivors, about 1000 of them Army personnel. Another 500 had already been taken prisoner. As a result, General Tsukada ordered his remaining troops to scatter and operate as guerrillas. Meanwhile, Griswold resumed his eastern offensive on March 8. In the south, bolstered by artillery and mortars, the battered 2nd Cavalry Brigade continued to advance slowly under heavy artillery fire, reaching a point 440 yards short of Antipolo along Route 60A and overcoming the enemy cave defenses at Benchmark 11. By March 11, patrols had entered Antipolo, discovering the town was devastated and deserted, yet still under the threat of Japanese artillery and mortars positioned in the hills to the north and northeast. Simultaneously, the 1st Cavalry Brigade made significant strides to the north, also coming within 440 yards of Antipolo while clearing Benchmark 9 Hill and Hills 520 and 740. Abandoning the Montalban-San Mateo area, Patrick instructed the 1st and 20th Regiments to advance toward Mounts Baytangan and Yabang. Facing unexpectedly light resistance, the 1st Regiment advanced a mile and a half east by March 11 and secured Benchmark 8 Hill to the south despite encountering stubborn opposition. Recognizing the need to capitalize on this success, Patrick then ordered the 20th Regiment to move through the 1st and attack north toward Wawa Dam while the latter continued its eastward assault. On March 11, the 103rd Regiment took over from the 2nd Cavalry Brigade and quickly began planning to outflank General Noguchi's defenses located southeast of Antipolo. However, due to concerns over American advances, General Yokoyama ordered the Noguchi Force to retreat to secondary defensive positions while preparing for a three-pronged counterattack set for March 12. The primary effort involved four reserve battalions from the Kobayashi Force, which launched an attack southward from Mount Mataba toward Marikina but were quickly halted by intense air and artillery fire, falling far short of their target. Additionally, the 182nd Independent Battalion attempted a counterattack toward Benchmark 8 but was unsuccessful, while the majority of the Kawashima Force advanced south from the Ipo Dam area to assault the rear installations of the 6th Division west of the Marikina River, where they were easily repelled by March 15. During this so-called counterattack, Griswold continued his offensive, with the 103rd Regiment swiftly advancing through the deserted Antipolo to Benchmark 7 Hill, and the 20th Regiment moving over a mile north to secure a position on a grassy ridge less than a mile southeast of Mount Mataba's summit. On March 14, the 1st Regiment resumed its eastern assault, successfully advancing north to a bare peak about a mile southwest of Mount Baytangan, despite facing strong resistance that caused heavy casualties, including the loss of General Patrick, who was succeeded by Brigadier-General Charles Hurdis as commander of the 6th Division. Simultaneously, Wing initiated a coordinated offensive with two regiments toward Mounts Yabang, Caymayuman, and Tanauan, aiming to flank the Shimbu Group's left. Although the 103rd and 179th Regiments achieved significant progress that day, Noguchi's determined defenders managed to maintain control of Benchmark 7. Looking further south, Griswold was preparing to launch a two-pronged offensive in southern Luzon. General Swing's 511th Parachute Regiment and the 187th Glider Regiment were set to advance towards Lipa from the north and northwest, while the 158th Regiment gathered near Nasugbu to attack southeast along Route 17 toward Balayan Bay. In response, Colonel Fujishige's Fuji Force had established several small positions in the area to prevent American forces from flanking the Shimbu Group's main defenses by rounding the eastern shore of Laguna de Bay. Swing's offensive commenced on March 7, with the 187th Glider Regiment descending the steep southern slopes of Tagaytay Ridge to the northern shore of Lake Taal, ultimately stopping at a hill two miles west of Tanauan due to strong resistance. The 511th Parachute Regiment moved out from Real, reaching within a mile of Santo Tomas while launching unsuccessful frontal assaults on Mount Bijiang. Meanwhile, the 158th Regiment advanced from Nasugbu, quickly securing Balayan before pushing eastward with little opposition toward Batangas, which fell on March 11. On its eastward path, the regiment bypassed significant elements of the 2nd Surface Raiding Base Force on the Calumpan Peninsula, necessitating that a battalion clear that area by March 16. At the same time, other units of the 158th Regiment encountered robust Japanese defenses blocking Route 417 at Mount Macolod, where their advance came to a halt. Concurrently, General Eichelberger continued his offensive against the central islands of the Visayan Passages, with reinforced companies from the 1st Battalion, 19th Regiment successfully landing on Romblon and Simara islands on March 11 and 12, respectively. Most importantly for Eichelberger, he was about to initiate his Visayas Campaign. To disrupt Japanese communication lines across the South China Sea, the 8th Army needed to quickly capture airfields that would allow the Allied Air Forces to project land-based air power over the waters west of the Philippines more effectively than from Clark Field or Mindoro. Consequently, the first target chosen was Palawan, which was defended by only two reinforced companies from the 102nd Division. Additionally, MacArthur's strategy included the eventual reoccupation of the East Indies, starting with the capture of Japanese-controlled oil resources in northern Borneo as soon as land-based air support was available. The Zamboanga Peninsula and the Sulu Archipelago were identified as the second targets, although these areas were defended by stronger garrisons from the 54th and 55th Independent Mixed Brigades. Despite this, Eichelberger tasked Major-General Jens Doe's 41st Division with executing these invasions. For the Palawan invasion, codenamed Operation Victor III, Brigadier-General Harold Haney was appointed to lead a force primarily composed of the 186th Regiment, which would be transported to the island by Admiral Fechteler's Task Group 78.2. The convoy departed from Mindoro on February 26, escorted by Rear-Admiral Ralph Riggs' cruisers and destroyers. Following a naval bombardment, Haney's Palawan Force successfully landed at Puerto Princesa on February 28 without encountering any opposition. They quickly secured the town and the two airstrips to the east, advancing to the western and southern shores of the harbor by late afternoon to establish a defensive perimeter. As the first day progressed, it became clear to the American troops that the Japanese troops would not put up a fight at Puerto Princesa and had withdrawn into the hills to the northwest. More disturbing was the revelation of a massacre of approximately 140 American prisoners of war the previous December. The presence of a passing Allied convoy made the alarmed Japanese believe that an invasion was imminent and had herded their prisoners into air-raid shelters, subsequently setting the shelters afire and shooting prisoners who tried to escape. Only 11 American prisoners of war miraculously survived immolation and escaped the shooting. Sheltered by natives until the Americans landed, they emerged during the battle to tell their horrifying tale, which only hardened American resolve to end Japanese rule over the island. By March 1, the 186th Regiment had successfully taken control of Irahuan and Tagburos. In the following week, American forces would eliminate two or three heavily defended strongholds located ten miles north-northwest of Puerto Princesa, where the enemy garrison was ultimately defeated. The Palawan Force also conducted reconnaissance of several offshore islets, discovering no Japanese presence on some and swiftly clearing others. However, due to the poorly compacted soil, the new airfield on the island would not be operational until March 20, which was too late for any aircraft based in Palawan to assist with the Zamboanga landings. Consequently, on March 8, two reinforced companies from the 21st Regiment were flown to the airstrip at Dipolog, which had been secured by Colonel Hipolito Garma's guerrilla 105th Division. On the same day, sixteen Marine Corsairs arrived to provide air support for the invasion of Zamboanga, codenamed Operation Victor IV. For this operation, Doe assigned the remainder of his division, which was to be transported by Rear-Admiral Forrest Royal's Task Group 78.1. After three days of pre-assault bombardments and minesweeping, the convoy finally set sail southward and entered Basilan Strait from the west early on March 10. Troops from the 162nd Regiment landed almost without opposition around 09:15 near barrio San Mateo and quickly secured Wolfe Field, while the 163rd Regiment was also landing. Doe's two regiments then began to advance inland, facing minimal resistance as they established a night perimeter. With the Japanese having withdrawn, the 162nd and 163rd Regiments easily secured Zamboanga City, San Roque Airfield, and the rest of the coastal plain by dusk on March 11, with one company extending further to Caldera Bay to the west. To drive the Japanese forces from the elevated positions overlooking the airfield, Doe dispatched the 162nd Regiment towards Mount Capisan and the 163rd Regiment towards Mount Pulungbata. Additionally, the guerrilla 121st Regiment was tasked with blocking the east coast road in the Belong area. Supported by continuous artillery fire and close air support from Marine Corps planes, the two regiments of the 41st Division faced arduous tasks. General Hojo's troops held excellent defenses in depth across a front 5 miles wide, some portions of the line being 3 miles deep. All installations were protected by barbed wire; abandoned ground was thoroughly booby-trapped; mine fields, some of them of the remote-control type, abounded; and at least initially the 54th Independent Mixed Brigade had an ample supply of automatic weapons and mortars. While Japanese morale on the Zamboanga Peninsula was not on a par with that of 14th Area Army troops on Luzon, most of the 54th Independent Mixed Brigade and attached units had sufficient spirit to put up a strong fight as long as they held prepared positions, and Hojo was able to find men to conduct harassing counterattacks night after night. Finally, the terrain through which the 41st Division had to attack was rough and overgrown, giving way on the north to the rain forests of the partially unexplored mountain range forming the backbone of the Zamboanga Peninsula. Only poor trails existed in most of the area held by the Japanese, and the 41st Division had to limit its advance to the pace of bulldozers, which laboriously constructed supply and evacuation roads. Once the American troops entered the peninsula's foothills, tanks could not operate off the bulldozed roads. The next day, the 186th Regiment was deployed to relieve the fatigued 163rd Regiment on the eastern front. By the end of the month, it had expanded the front eastward and northward against diminishing resistance, ultimately forcing Hojo's forces to retreat into the rugged interior of the peninsula. For now, however, we will shift our focus from the Philippines to Burma to continue our coverage of the Chinese-British-Indian offensives. As we last observed, General Stopford's 33rd Corps was aggressively advancing into Mandalay against a weakened 15th Army, while General Cowan's 17th Indian Division had successfully captured Meiktila and was preparing to withstand the combined assaults of the 18th and 49th Divisions. Cowan's forces conducted a robust defense, managing to delay the arrival of the 49th Division until March 18 and successfully repelling General Naka's initial attacks on Meiktila's main airfield. Furthermore, with the reserve 5th Indian Division moving closer to the front in preparation for an advance towards Rangoon, General Slim decided to airlift the 9th Brigade to reinforce Cowan's troops, which landed on Meiktila's main airfield under enemy fire between March 15 and 17. Due to the slow progress on this front and General Katamura's preoccupation with the battles along the Irrawaddy, he was unable to manage the southern units simultaneously. Consequently, General Kimura decided to assign the 33rd Army to take over the fighting in Meiktila. General Honda promptly moved to Hlaingdet, where he was tasked with overseeing the 18th, 49th, and 53rd Divisions. On March 18, he ordered the 18th Division to secure the northern line of Meiktila and neutralize enemy airfields. He instructed the 49th Division to advance along the Pyawbwe-Meiktila road and directed the 53rd Division to regroup near Pyawbwe. However, on that same day, Cowan launched a counterattack by sending two tank-infantry columns to disrupt Japanese preparations along the Mahlaing road and in the villages of Kandaingbauk and Shawbyugan. They faced heavy resistance at Shawbyugan and ultimately had to withdraw. The relentless air assaults also compelled the Japanese to operate primarily at night, limiting their ability to respond with similar force to British offensives. On the night of March 20, Naka decided to initiate a significant attack on Meiktila's main airfield. However, with the 119th Regiment delayed at Shawbyugan, the 55th Regiment had to proceed alone, supported by some tanks, against the defenses of the 99th Brigade around Kyigon. Heavy artillery and mortar fire ultimately disrupted their assault. Meanwhile, as the 49th Division was consolidating its forces to the southeast, Cowan opted to send two tank-infantry columns to eliminate enemy concentrations at Nyaungbintha and Kinlu. Although the initial sweeps met little resistance, the 48th Brigade encountered strong Japanese positions at Shwepadaing on March 21. The next day, Cowan dispatched two tank-infantry columns to secure the Shwepadaing and Tamongan regions, but the British-Indian forces still struggled to eliminate the enemy defenders. That night, Lieutenant-General Takehara Saburo initiated his first significant assault, with the majority of the 106th Regiment targeting the defensive positions of the 48th Brigade in southeastern Meiktila. Despite the fierce and relentless attacks from the Japanese throughout the night, they were ultimately repelled by artillery and machine-gun fire, suffering heavy casualties. On March 23, Cowan sent another tank-infantry column to chase the retreating Japanese forces; however, the reformed 169th Regiment at Kinde successfully defended against this advance. Meanwhile, on the night of March 24, Naka launched another major offensive with the 55th and 119th Regiments, managing to capture Meiktila's main airfield. In response, Cowan quickly dispatched a tank-infantry column to clear the Mandalay road, successfully securing the area northeast of Kyigon by March 26. At this time, Honda had relocated his headquarters to Thazi to better coordinate the battle, although his troops had already suffered significant losses. For the next three days, Cowan's tanks and infantry continued to advance along the Mandalay road while the 63rd and 99th Brigades worked to eliminate Naka's artillery units south of Myindawgan Lake. By mid-March, Stopford's relentless pressure had forced the 31st and 33rd Divisions to retreat in chaos. On March 20, organized resistance in Mandalay was finally shattered as the 2nd British Division linked up with the 19th Indian Division. Consequently, the beleaguered Japanese units had no option but to withdraw in disarray towards the Shan Hills to the east. Following the collapse of the 15th Army front, the 33rd Army received orders on March 28 to hold its current positions only long enough to facilitate the withdrawal of the 15th Army. Consequently, while Cowan's units cleared the region north of Meiktila, Honda halted all offensive actions and promptly directed the 18th Division to secure the Thazi-Hlaingdet area. Additionally, the weakened 214th Regiment was tasked with moving to Yozon to support the withdrawal of the 33rd Division, while the 49th and 53rd Divisions were assigned to contain Meiktila to the south. As the battles for Mandalay and Meiktila unfolded, the reinforced 7th Indian Division at Nyaungu faced several intense assaults from General Yamamoto's 72nd Independent Mixed Brigade throughout March, ultimately advancing to Taungtha and clearing the route to Meiktila by the month's end. Meanwhile, in northern Burma, the 36th British Division advanced toward Mogok, which fell on March 19, while the 50th Chinese Division approached the Hsipaw area. Interestingly, the Japanese abandoned Hsipaw without resistance but launched a fierce counterattack between March 17 and 20. Ultimately, General Matsuyama had no option but to prepare for a withdrawal south toward Lawksawk and Laihka. At this stage, the 38th Chinese Division resumed its advance to Hsipaw; however, facing strong opposition along the route, they did not arrive until March 24, when the entire Burma Road was finally secured. General Sultan believed this was his final maneuver and recommended relocating the Chinese forces back to the Myitkyina area for air transport back to China, except for those needed to secure the Lashio-Hsipaw region. Additionally, the 36th Division continued its eastward push and eventually linked up with the 50th Division in the Kyaukme area by the end of the month before being reassigned to Slim's 14th Army. Looking south, the 74th Indian Brigade and West African forces advanced toward Kolan, while the 26th Indian Division established a new beachhead in the Letpan-Mae region. The 154th Regiment maintained its position near the Dalet River, preventing the remainder of the 82nd West African Division from joining the offensive. On March 23, General Miyazaki decided to launch an attack on Kolan. Although the assault achieved moderate success, Miyazaki soon recognized that he was outnumbered and opted to begin a final withdrawal toward the An Pass, completing this by the end of the month.   Meanwhile, on March 17, the 121st Regiment sent its 3rd Battalion to engage the enemy in the Sabyin area and hold their position along the Tanlwe River for as long as possible. Despite strong resistance from the Japanese, British-Indian forces managed to cross the Tanlwe by March 27 and successfully captured Hill 815 two days later. By March 30, the 22nd East African Brigade had also reached Letpan when High Command decided to relieve the units of the 26th Division and return them to India. In a related development, tensions were rising in French Indochina, where the local government refused to permit a Japanese defense of the colony. By early March, Japanese forces began redeploying around the main French garrison towns in Indochina. The Japanese envoy in Saigon Ambassador Shunichi Matsumoto declared to Governor Admiral Jean Decoux that since an Allied landing in Indochina was inevitable, Tokyo command wished to put into place a "common defence" of Indochina. Decoux however resisted stating that this would be a catalyst for an Allied invasion but suggested that Japanese control would be accepted if they actually invaded. This was not enough and Tsuchihashi accused Decoux of playing for time. On 9 March, after more stalling by Decoux, Tsuchihashi delivered an ultimatum for French troops to disarm. Decoux sent a messenger to Matsumoto urging further negotiations but the message arrived at the wrong building. Tsuchihashi, assuming that Decoux had rejected the ultimatum, immediately ordered commencement of the coup. The 11th R.I.C. (régiment d'infanterie coloniale) based at the Martin de Pallieres barracks in Saigon were surrounded and disarmed after their commanding officer, Lieutenant-Colonel Moreau, was arrested. In Hue there was sporadic fighting; the Garde Indochinoise, who provided security for the résident supérieur, fought for 19 hours against the Japanese before their barracks was overrun and destroyed. Three hundred men, one third of them French, managed to elude the Japanese and escape to the A Sầu Valley. However, over the next three days, they succumbed to hunger, disease and betrayals - many surrendered while others fought their way into Laos where only a handful survived. Meanwhile, General Eugène Mordant led opposition by the garrison of Hanoi for several hours but was forced to capitulate, with 292 dead on the French side and 212 Japanese. An attempt to disarm a Vietnamese garrison ended badly for the Japanese when 600 of them marched into Quảng Ngãi. The Vietnamese nationalists had been armed with automatic weapons supplied by the OSS parachuted nearby at Kontum. The Japanese had been led to believe that these men would readily defect but the Vietnamese ambushed the Japanese. Losing only three killed and seventeen wounded they inflicted 143 killed and another 205 wounded on the Japanese before they too were overcome. A much larger force of Japanese came the next day but they found the garrison empty. In Annam and Cochinchina only token resistance was offered and most garrisons, small as they were, surrendered. Further north the French had the sympathy of many indigenous peoples. Several hundred Laotians volunteered to be armed as guerrillas against the Japanese; French officers organized them into detachments but turned away those they did not have weapons for. In Haiphong the Japanese assaulted the Bouet barracks: headquarters of Colonel Henry Lapierre's 1st Tonkin Brigade. Using heavy mortar and machine gun fire, one position was taken after another before the barracks fell and Lapierre ordered a ceasefire. Lapierre refused to sign surrender messages for the remaining garrisons in the area. Codebooks had also been burnt which meant the Japanese then had to deal with the other garrisons by force. In Laos, Vientiane, Thakhek and Luang Prabang were taken by the Japanese without much resistance. In Cambodia the Japanese with 8,000 men seized Phnom Penh and all major towns in the same manner. All French personnel in the cities on both regions were either interned or in some cases executed. The Japanese strikes at the French in the Northern Frontier in general saw the heaviest fighting. One of the first places they needed to take and where they amassed the 22nd division was at Lang Son, a strategic fort near the Chinese border. The defences of Lang Son consisted of a series of fort complexes built by the French to defend against a Chinese invasion. The main fortress was the Fort Brière de l'Isle. Inside was a French garrison of nearly 4000 men, many of them Tonkinese, with units of the French Foreign Legion. Once the Japanese had cut off all communications to the forts they invited General Émile Lemonnier, the commander of the border region, to a banquet at the headquarters of the Japanese 22nd Division. Lemonnier declined to attend the event, but allowed some of his staff to go in his place. They were then taken prisoner and soon after the Japanese bombarded Fort Brière de l'Isle, attacking with infantry and tanks. The small forts outside had to defend themselves in isolation; they did so for a time, proving impenetrable, and the Japanese were repelled with some loss. They tried again the next day and succeeded in taking the outer positions. Finally, the main fortress of Brière de l'Isle was overrun after heavy fighting. Lemonnier was subsequently taken prisoner himself and ordered by a Japanese general to sign a document formally surrendering the forces under his command. Lemonnier refused to sign the documents. As a result, the Japanese took him outside where they forced him to dig a grave along with French Resident-superior (Résident-général) Camille Auphelle. Lemonnier again was ordered to sign the surrender documents and again refused. The Japanese subsequently beheaded him. The Japanese then machine-gunned some of the prisoners and either beheaded or bayoneted the wounded survivors. Lang Son experienced particularly intense fighting, with the 22nd Division relentlessly assaulting the 4,000-strong garrison for two days until the main fortress was captured. The Japanese then advanced further north to the border town of Dong Dang, which fell by March 15. The battle of Lạng Sơn cost the French heavy casualties and their force on the border was effectively destroyed. European losses were 544 killed, of which 387 had been executed after capture. In addition 1,832 Tonkinese colonial troops were killed (including 103 who were executed) while another 1,000 were taken prisoner. On 12 March planes of the US Fourteenth Air Force flying in support of the French, mistook a column of Tonkinese prisoners for Japanese and bombed and strafed them. Reportedly between 400 and 600 of the prisoners were killed or wounded.  Nonetheless, the coup was highly successful, with the Japanese subsequently encouraging declarations of independence from traditional rulers in various regions. On 11 March 1945, Emperor Bảo Đại was permitted to announce the Vietnamese "independence"; this declaration had been prepared by Yokoyama Seiko, Minister for Economic Affairs of the Japanese diplomatic mission in Indochina and later advisor to Bao Dai. Bảo Đại complied in Vietnam where they set up a puppet government headed by Tran Trong Kim and which collaborated with the Japanese. King Norodom Sihanouk also obeyed, but the Japanese did not trust the Francophile monarch. Nationalist leader Son Ngoc Thanh, who had been exiled in Japan and was considered a more trustworthy ally than Sihanouk, returned to Cambodia and became Minister of foreign affairs in May and then Prime Minister in August. In Laos however, King Sisavang Vong of Luang Phrabang, who favoured French rule, refused to declare independence, finding himself at odds with his Prime Minister, Prince Phetsarath Ratanavongsa, but eventually acceded on 8 April. I would like to take this time to remind you all that this podcast is only made possible through the efforts of Kings and Generals over at Youtube. Please go subscribe to Kings and Generals over at Youtube and to continue helping us produce this content please check out www.patreon.com/kingsandgenerals. If you are still hungry after that, give my personal channel a look over at The Pacific War Channel at Youtube, it would mean a lot to me. March 1945, saw US forces advance in Luzon, overcoming Japanese defenses through strategic maneuvers, while guerrilla activities intensified amid challenging terrain and heavy resistance. Meanwhile, in Burma, British-Indian forces advanced against Japanese troops, capturing key locations and in French Indochina the Japanese unleashed a brutal coup d'etat ushering in independence movements.

Zadržania, odsúdenia a politické intrigy. Čo sa skrýva za najnovšími kauzami v bezpečnostných zložkách?Slovensko zažíva ďalšiu kapitolu vojny v bezpečnostných zložkách, ktorá sa tiahne už niekoľko rokov. Najnovšie zadržanie bývalých vyšetrovateľov NAKA, Branislava Dunčka, Roberta Magulu a Romana Staša, takzvaných čurillovcov, a tohto týždňové odsúdenie bývalého policajta Jána Kaľavského opäť otvárajú otázky o tom, kto v skutočnosti bojoval proti organizovanému zločinu a kto s ním spolupracoval.Dnes sa pozrieme na to, čo vieme o aktuálnom vývoji oboch prípadov, aké súvislosti siahajú až do politických kuloárov a čo tieto kauzy znamenajú pre stav právneho štátu na Slovensku.V podcaste budete počuť investigatívnu novinárku Lauru Kellö Kalinskú.Moderuje Zorislav Poljak.

Zadržania, odsúdenia a politické intrigy. Čo sa skrýva za najnovšími kauzami v bezpečnostných zložkách?Slovensko zažíva ďalšiu kapitolu vojny v bezpečnostných zložkách, ktorá sa tiahne už niekoľko rokov. Najnovšie zadržanie bývalých vyšetrovateľov NAKA, Branislava Dunčka, Roberta Magulu a Romana Staša, takzvaných čurillovcov, a tohto týždňové odsúdenie bývalého policajta Jána Kaľavského opäť otvárajú otázky o tom, kto v skutočnosti bojoval proti organizovanému zločinu a kto s ním spolupracoval.Dnes sa pozrieme na to, čo vieme o aktuálnom vývoji oboch prípadov, aké súvislosti siahajú až do politických kuloárov a čo tieto kauzy znamenajú pre stav právneho štátu na Slovensku.V podcaste budete počuť investigatívnu novinárku Lauru Kellö Kalinskú.Moderuje Zorislav Poljak.

Comparison ng babaeng mag-isa dumidiskarte at babaeng merong Man...

Truly high quality design is timeless... but that doesn't mean it's AGEless. Mobile Suit Gundam AGE is a widely reviled entry in the beloved series, and while I'm not here to argue that its plot and characters are any good, I am here to tell you that Kanetake Ebikawa knows how to f---in' cook. You can find a video version of this podcast for free on Scanline Media's Patreon! If you want to find us on Twitter, Dylan is @lowpolyrobot and Six is @sixdettmar. Our opening theme is the Hangar Theme from Gundam Breaker 3, and our ending theme for this episode is Kimi no Naka no Eiyuu by Minami Kuribayashi from Mobile Suit Gundam AGE. Our podcast art is a fantastic piece of work from Twitter artist @fenfelt. Want to see a list of every unit we've covered from every episode, including variants and tangents? It's right here. Units discussed: AGE-3 Gundam AGE-3 Normal AGE-3F Gundam AGE-3 Fortress AGE-3O Gundam AGE-3 Orbital AGE-3L Gundam AGE-3 Laguna AGE-3 Gundam AGE-3 Tangram AGE-3 Gundam AGE-3 Graft

V piatok budú v niekoľkých desiatkach miest po celom Slovensku spomienkové zhromaždenia na 7. výročie vraždy Jána Kuciaka a Martiny Kušnírovej. Organizuje ich Mier Ukrajine a Za slušné Slovensko. Organizátorka Karolína Farská v rozhovore s Veronikou Folentovou hovorí, ako sa Slovensko za sedem rokov od vraždy zmenilo, prečo je podľa nej Robert Fico unavený premiér. Hovorí aj o tom, ako ju vypočúvala NAKA, keď mala 19 rokov a podozrievali ju, že organizuje prevrat.

McDonald's New Zealand is not ruling out appealing a decision from Commissioners, who decided not to grant consent to open a restaurant in Wānaka. Wao Aotearoa Charitable Trust general manager Monique Kelly spoke to Ingrid Hipkiss.

Wānaka's business community doesn't appear to have been fazed by the now unlikely prospect of McDonalds setting up shop in town. The fast-food giant has had its resource application to open in the town declined after 90% of submissions opposed the idea. Wānaka Business Chamber Chair Jo Learmonth told Mike Hosking there was a variety of opinions in their community survey. But she says most indicated they don't see it impacting their business, or the business economy. McDonalds has two weeks to appeal the decision. LISTEN ABOVE See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

A McFlurry of controversy is over in Wānaka - with a proposal for the region's first-ever McDonald's declined. The District Council has turned the fast food giant's resource application down after strong pushback from locals concerned about food waste and pollution. It planned a 450-metre site by the Mount Iron Roundabout. Deputy mayor Quentin Smith says in the proposed setting - McDonald's wasn't a good fit. He explained if McDonald's had wanted to set up in the town centre or a commercial zone, it's likely little could be done to stop it. LISTEN ABOVESee omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Nedá sa spraviť novela Trestného zákona tak, že v nej presne označíte osoby, ktorých sa to bude týkať, ale keby to chceli "našiť" na tých ich ľudí, neurobili by to inak. Cieľom vládnej novelizácie bolo ochrániť "našich ľudí" a odradiť od vyšetrovania korupcie na najvyšších miestach, tvrdí bývalý šéf NAKY. A kde sú v tom všetkom práva poškodených a obetí? Na tie sa zabudlo, hovorí Ľubomír Daňko."Pomohli ste viac ako 1324 zločincom a podozrivým. To je počet osôb, ktorým boli vplyvom novely premlčané trestné stíhania, ich skutky prestali byť trestným činom alebo boli prekvalifikované na priestupok. Patrí sem aj 446 väzňov prepustených z výkonu trestu odňatia slobody. Vo všetkých prípadoch sa však nezmenila jedna vec. Ostávajú po nich poškodení, z ktorých sa mnohí už nikdy nedočkajú spravodlivosti.Korupcia aj daňové podvody sa vďaka novele a ďalším krokom vašej koalície vyšetrujú menej. Menej sa vyšetrujú aj daňové podvody. Nie je to však tým, že by kriminalita klesala. Mnohé skutky totiž po úprave trestného zákona už nie sú trestným činom. A aj tie, ktoré trestným činom ostali, sa po zrušení NAKA a ÚŠP odhaľujú a vyšetrujú menej.To je úryvok z otvoreného listu šéfka Nadácie Zastavme korupciu Zuzany Petkovej, ktorý adresovala poslancom parlamentu zodpovedným za schválenie Novely Trestného zákona prijatej vládnou koalíciu práve pred rokom.Počúvate Ráno Nahlas, tentoraz o vládnej novele Trestného zákona a jej dosahoch na naše životy. S bývalým šéfom NAKY, ktorý dnes pôsobí v Nadácií Zastavme korupciu Ľubomírom Daňkom. Pekný deň a pokoj v duši praje Braňo Dobšinský.

Nedá sa spraviť novela Trestného zákona tak, že v nej presne označíte osoby, ktorých sa to bude týkať, ale keby to chceli "našiť" na tých ich ľudí, neurobili by to inak. Cieľom vládnej novelizácie bolo ochrániť "našich ľudí" a odradiť od vyšetrovania korupcie na najvyšších miestach, tvrdí bývalý šéf NAKY. A kde sú v tom všetkom práva poškodených a obetí? Na tie sa zabudlo, hovorí Ľubomír Daňko."Pomohli ste viac ako 1324 zločincom a podozrivým. To je počet osôb, ktorým boli vplyvom novely premlčané trestné stíhania, ich skutky prestali byť trestným činom alebo boli prekvalifikované na priestupok. Patrí sem aj 446 väzňov prepustených z výkonu trestu odňatia slobody. Vo všetkých prípadoch sa však nezmenila jedna vec. Ostávajú po nich poškodení, z ktorých sa mnohí už nikdy nedočkajú spravodlivosti.Korupcia aj daňové podvody sa vďaka novele a ďalším krokom vašej koalície vyšetrujú menej. Menej sa vyšetrujú aj daňové podvody. Nie je to však tým, že by kriminalita klesala. Mnohé skutky totiž po úprave trestného zákona už nie sú trestným činom. A aj tie, ktoré trestným činom ostali, sa po zrušení NAKA a ÚŠP odhaľujú a vyšetrujú menej.To je úryvok z otvoreného listu šéfka Nadácie Zastavme korupciu Zuzany Petkovej, ktorý adresovala poslancom parlamentu zodpovedným za schválenie Novely Trestného zákona prijatej vládnou koalíciu práve pred rokom.Počúvate Ráno Nahlas, tentoraz o vládnej novele Trestného zákona a jej dosahoch na naše životy. S bývalým šéfom NAKY, ktorý dnes pôsobí v Nadácií Zastavme korupciu Ľubomírom Daňkom. Pekný deň a pokoj v duši praje Braňo Dobšinský.

Kabataan Rep. Raoul Manuel explains what's keeping the 3 impeachment cases against Sara Duterte from moving in the House of Representatives.

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

Happy New Year!  This is our 2025 recap episode.  In this case, we actually are recapping a fair bit more than just the year, going over the previous evolution of the Yamato state up to the period of the Great Change, or Taika, which we covered this past year.  There's a lot more that we expect to get into this next year, and this will hopefully tee us up for what is to come. For more, including a full list of our previous references, check out: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-newyear2025   Rough Transcript Shinnen Akemashite!  Happy New Year and Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is the New Year's Recap episode for 2025! It's that time again:  we are going to look back at what happened in the episodes this year.  That was only episodes 101 to 117—we'll skip the travelogue episodes for the time being.  This covered the years of the early to mid-7th century, from roughly 613 to 659.  That is easily within the lifetime of a single individual, and yet a lot was going on. At the start of this year, we were at the height of Soga power. In 2023, we covered how back in 587, Soga no Umako had wrested power away from the powerful Mononobe clan, defeating Mononobe no Moriya.  As you may recall, the sovereign known to posterity as Jimmu Tennou was the descendant of the Heavenly Grandchild known as Ninigi no Mikoto, at least according to the Nihon Shoki.  The Mononobe clan claimed descent from none other than Nigi Hayahi, the Other Heavenly Grandchild, whose offspring were said to have been defeated by Jimmu. You may recall that scholars generally consider the story of Jimmu, and the nine sovereigns that immediately followed him, as almost certainly a later addition to the story of the royal lineage. So when did the story of Nigi no Hayahi's defeat enter the picture? And was its inclusion perhaps related to the defeat of the Mononobe by the Soga family?  A family that successfully intermarried with the Royal House, themselves, such that all later sovereigns would trace their ancestry back to the Soga house? Of course, under Soga dominance we saw the rise of figures like the Soga descended Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tenno.  During her reign, major reforms were carried out, Buddhism became fully established by the State, and ties with the continent were strengthened.  Politics would continue to be dominated by Soga, even after the death of Soga no Umako and Kashikiya Hime, with Soga no Emishi taking up the mantle of Prime Minister, working closely with his son, Soga no Iruka.  The Soga family was so entwined with the politics of rulership that the main rivals of the Soga were… the Soga.  That is to say different Soga-descended lineages, like that of the Prince Umayado, aka Prince Shotoku. Rather than supporting Umayado's son, Prince Yamashiro no Oe, Soga no Emishi backed another candidate to the throne, Prince Tamura.  , of the royal Okinaga lineage. Tamura came to power as Jomei Tenno, but there is little doubt that Soga no Emishi was the one in control. Later, when Tamura passed away in 641, Yamashiro no Oe continued to be passed over.  In fact, Soga no Emishi supported the ascension of Tamura's wife, Takara hime, over Yamashiro no Oe, and there is evidence that he supported a prince known as Furubito no Oe as the Crown Prince and eventual successor.  All of the evidence—which, to be honest, is rather biased—suggests that the Soga family were setting up a series of puppet rulers who would do their bidding, or at least be pliable to their suggestions. There must have been some pushback, though, especially when one considers how strong the cult of Prince Shotoku, aka Umayado, would eventually become.  One imagines that Prince Yamashiro was another pole around which those who opposed the Soga family could rally.  After all, he was the son of Crown Prince Umayado, and likely had just as much of a claim as Tamura and his children.  And so, to counter this threat, Soga no Emishi's son and successor, Soga no Iruka, took matters into his own hands. In a brazen display of the violence of court politics, Soga no Iruka had Yamashiro no Oe accused of plotting against the throne and took an army to arrest him—no doubt in the hope that the prince would resist.  Eventually they cornered Yamashiro and his family, who committed suicide rather than submit. This attack was likely targeted to take out the rival to the Soga family's preferred Crown Prince, Prince Furubito no Oe, but rather than quell any dissent, the move seems to have enflamed the passions of those who wanted to see an end to the Soga house.  Those passions took particular root in none other than Furubito no Oe's younger brother, Prince Naka no Oe.  Together with the support of his uncle, Prince Karu; the head of the Nakatomi house, Nakatomi no Kamatari; as well as another scion of the Soga house, Soga no Kuroyamada, Prince Naka no Oe staged a coup d'etat.  Using the death of Prince Yamashiro no Oe as an excuse, they engineered a plot to assassinate Soga no Iruka in court, in front of Naka no Oe's own mother, Takara Hime no Oho-kimi.  After Iruka's death, Naka no Oe and his supporters then took the fight to Soga no Emishi, who committed suicide and set his own house on fire in what came to be known as the Isshi Incident. This shocking assassination caused Takara hime to step down.  The Soga-backed Prince Furubito no Oe, rather than stepping up and taking the throne, retreated to a Buddhist temple and took holy orders, effectively retiring and theoretically taking himself out of court politics.  That left Prince Naka no Oe and his uncle, Prince Karu, as possible candidates. We are told that Prince Naka no Oe declined to take the throne himself, instead supporting his uncle, Prince Karu.  Prince Karu took the throne, and is known to us as Kotoku Tenno, today.  Prince Naka no Oe stepped up as the Crown Prince, and with the help of his co-conspirators, such as Nakatomi no Kamatari, Soga no Kurayamada, and others, they began a project to remake the Yamato government, using continental models—specifically the Sui and Tang courts, which were also influencing the governments of the Korean peninsula, such as those of Baekje and Silla. This is known as the Taika, or Great Change, era.    There had been previous movements to adopt some of the continental trends, but nothing to this extent, which culminated in a tremendous palace complex built in Naniwa—modern Ohosaka.  Governors were sent out to the east of the country. The old, decentralized system was being replaced by a centralized bureaucracy. And yet this wasn't entirely a smooth transition.  Early on there was a threat by supporters of the previous Crown Prince, Furubito no Oe.  He was killed to put down any possible revolt.  Later, Naka no Oe was hoodwinked into going after his own co-conspirator, Soga no Kurayamada, resulting in Kurayamada's death and the punishment of his entire family.  A few years later, Naka no Oe moved back to Asuka, taking most of the royal family and the court with him, abandoning the grand government complex that they had built in Naniwa for reasons that remain unclear. Shortly thereafter, Karu, aka Kotoku Tenno, passed away.  But rather than Naka no Oe taking the throne—or even Karu's son, Prince Arima—the throne went back to Naka no Oe's mother, Takara Hime.  This is the only case we have of a single sovereign reigning twice, and the Chroniclers gave her two separate regnal names—Kogyoku Tenno to refer to her first reign and Saimei Tenno to refer to her second. And this is the reign that we are going to start the new year with. Beyond what was going on on the archipelago, there was also plenty that we covered on the continent.  We started the year with the Sui dynasty having consolidated control and working to continue to expand their territory north, south, and west, while also connecting the economic areas of the Yangzi and Yellow rivers. Unfortunately, through their wars and public works projects they overextended themselves, and the dynasty fell, replaced, in 619, with the Tang dynasty.  The Tang continued to expand, taking control of important points on the Silk Road and becoming a hub of trade and commerce.  At the same time, they were contesting their borders with the Goguryeo, who, themselves, had come under the control of Yeon Gaesomun, an infamous noble and anti-Tang hard-liner, who had staged a coup, murdered the Goguryeo king and any who stood against him, and who had installed a puppet king on the throne.  It is little wonder that the Tang dynasty was courting Goguryeo's enemy, Silla, to pressure them from the other side.  This eventually kicked off the Tang-Goguryeo war, with the loosely allied Tang and Silla fighting on and off with Goguryeo and their ally, Baekje, who was also invested in stifling Silla's ambitions on the peninsula. So that's where we are:  The Korean peninsula is currently embroiled in conflict between the three kingdoms on the peninsula and the nearby superpower, the Tang Dynasty.  Meanwhile, Yamato, on the archipelago, is going through a whole… thing.  What that is, we'll try to get into over the next year. Given all of this, let's go over some of the themes from the past year.  To start with, let's talk about expanding Yamato influence. From what we can tell, Yamato's influence in the archipelago had peaked around the 5th century, between the creation of giant Daisen Ryo kofun and the reign of Wakatake no Ohokimi, aka Yuryaku Tenno.  Wakatake no Ohokimi had courtiers from as far away as Kyushu and the Kanto plain.  However, from what I can tell, Yamato's influence appears to have temporarily waned, possibly coinciding with the end of Wakatake's own dynasty, with a new dynasty coming to power in the 6th century. It is possible that Wakatake was simply never quite as powerful as the Chronicles make out, but there are a few other things that make me think that the end of the 5th and early half of the 6th century were a low point in Yamato's power.  For one thing, we see a drop off in interactions with the continent after 479—or at least anything beyond the tip of the Korean peninsula.  In addition, we see smaller rooms built in the region of the Nara Basin and the Kawachi plain, while more “royal” tombs continue to appear elsewhere in the archipelago.  It isn't that they stopped, but the size decreased, suggesting that Yamato didn't have the same labor pool it used to. On top of that, we have the dynastic change.  We are told that the line related to Wakatake died out and they had to bring in someone from Afumi and Koshi, who traced their lineage back to the legendary Homuda-wake, aka Ōjin tennō, some five generations back.  Many scholars suggest that this connection was a later merging of the lineages, suggesting that, in reality, an entirely new branch of sovereigns had come to power. Finally, we can see the Chronicles focusing more and more on the areas near to Yamato, the area known as the Home Provinces, possibly because Yamato only held direct control over these areas, while control beyond that was only nominal.  Local elites in those regions had a lot of autonomy, and if Yamato did not have anything in particular to offer them, they would not have a reason to necessarily go along with Yamato's requests. This may have even been part of the impetus for the so-called “rebellion” by Iwai, in Kyushu.  As you may recall, in the early 6th century Iwai attempted to ally with Silla against Yamato and Baekje, with the idea of cutting off Yamato's access to the continent.  This ultimately failed, and Yamato ended up creating what would become the Dazaifu near modern Fukuoka, but the fact that Iwai could contemplate it and gather such support would suggest that Yamato was at least perceived as vulnerable. Now up to this point, we see several different policies that were used for increasing the court's control.  Early on, this was done by doling out various elite goods.  We also see Yamato soft power in the form of spiritual authority and the expansion of local Yamato cultic practices out into the other lands of the archipelago.  There was also the tradition of monumental tombs, and especially the royal keyhole style tombs, which spread out from Yamato and was likely as much an indication that those regions saw Yamato practices as worthy of emulation, at the least, and perhaps saw Yamato as a cultural nexus on the archipelago. To all of this, they eventually added the “Be” system.  This appears to have been copied from systems being used on the Korean peninsula, and it focused on creating familial units to organize various industries, with family heads responsible for reporting and funneling necessary goods up to the court.  This eventually included the noble “uji” clans, with their power bases in various geographic regions. Yamato extended its influence through a variety of methods, including various public works projects.  These included things like the building of ponds, or reservoirs, which would have been critical to the wet-rice paddy agriculture that was the economic backbone of the Yamato government.  Another means of extending government control was the “miyake”, or Royal Granaries.  Originally we see these set up in the Nara basin, but during the current dynasty they had been extended all the way out to Kyushu. Ostensibly, they were there to collect rice for taxes, but they appear to have acted as government offices, providing a presence for Yamato even out in the hinterlands.  Eventually they would turn the area in Kyushu, the Dazai, into its own, semi-autonomous extension of the Yamato government, as well. In the past year of the podcast, we've seen many of those older forms of government control replaced with a new bureaucratic system.  This included an upgrade to the rank system, which was a way for the government to both organize the bureaucracy while also creating a means to award individuals.  Early rank systems had initially been granted at the family level, but following a continental model meant that the new system was based solely on the individual.  Thus they could hand out rank to various kings and chieftains across the archipelago and entice them into the Yamato orbit, a trick they had been doing previously as well with various types of recognition.  Those that took the titles and rank that Yamato handed out gained a certain amount of legitimacy, locally, but since that legitimacy was tied to the Yamato court, it also helped solidify Yamato's own influence on those areas. That doesn't mean that all expansion was peaceful.  Yamato contested on their eastern and northern border with the people referred to as the Emishi, which eventually included contests as far north as the island of Hokkaido with the Mishihase people. There was another form of soft power used by the court in the way that it supported Buddhism, which was still a new religion at this point, having arrived in the early part of the 6th century.  Patronage of Buddhism would lead to the building of temples and otherwise claiming some authority in the spiritual realm, beyond simply the court's control of the Mt. Miwa site.  Furthermore, the state itself took particular interest in Buddhist institutions, and cracked down heavily on the clergy, ensuring that they reported up to the court, formally solidifying the connection between temples and the State. But then they went a bit further and instituted actual governors.  They were appointed by the Yamato government, and they were particularly installed in the Eastern lands—referred to as provinces.  These governors reported to the court, and appear to have initially been separate from locally recognized elites, who were known as the Kuni no Miyatsuko.  The governors were to take stock of the areas under their authority and report up information such as a summary of the lands and local census information.  This meant that Yamato did not need to rely on local elites to administer an area, they would have greater insight into what was actually going on. This was all combined with the institution of new laws on taxes, corvee labor, and more, while eliminating traditional practices such as the Miyake and even royal tomb-building.  The latter was likely affected by the various public works projects, but also the fact that more work was going into the building of things like Buddhist temples. As we noted back in the previous year, Buddhist temple building appears to have had a hand in the end of the prolific kofun building, at least in Yamato proper.  Kofun were memorials—meant to carry on the memory of an individuals well after their death.  They were ritual sites, and families were set up to care for them. Temples, likewise, were erected with certain memorial qualities.  Donating to build a temple was thought to increase one's karma, and thus do wonders for your next life.  Temple patrons would be remembered, and services were carried out, but temples also had a certain public aspect to them, as well.  On top of that, they were new, and no doubt exotic, with their tiled rooves, intricate carvings, and colorful buildings.  Much of the labor that would have built tombs appears to have been co-opted, instead, to build temples. Some of the temples founded in this period include Asuka dera, aka Hokoji, built on or near the Soga family compound, as well as other Asuka temples, such as Yamadadera, Kawaradera, Toyouradera, and Kudaradera.  There was also Houryuji, erected by Prince Umayado near his house, and the ancient temple of Shitennouji, erected in Naniwa.  Of these, both Horyuji and Shitennoji continue, today, at or near their original with some of the oldest extant buildings in Japan.  Asukadera was moved to its modern site of Gangoji, in Nara city proper, but there is still a smaller Asukadera on the original site, with what may be one of the original images, though the buildings have been rebuilt after numerous fires and disasters over the years. Of course, a big part of all of these foreign ideas, such as Buddhism but also Confucian thought as well, was the growing influence of the continent, whether in the form of Baekje, Silla, Goguryeo, or beyond.  While there had been influence ever since the Yayoi period—and arguably even during the Jomon, in some instances—there seems to have been an acceleration once Yamato began to import Buddhism, which was likely connected with all of the learning and texts that were also being imported around that time.  Then, during the Sui and Tang dynasties—both of which the Chronicles simply label as the “Great Tang”—the court sent several embassies to the Sui and Tang emperors, bringing back individuals with actual experience in the way things were happening outside of the archipelago. And we should not discount the various embassies to and from the Korean peninsula.  Yamato was increasing its involvement in peninsular affairs.  They continued to be concerned with the state of Nimna, also known as Imna or Mimana, which had been assimilated by Silla, along with the rest of Gaya, or Kara, by the early to mid-6th century, with many accounts dealing with attempts to reinstate Nimna as a separate and sovereign entity. Along with this, Yamato continued their relationship with Baekje, who sent Prince Pung to reside at the Yamato court.  This continued a long-standing tradition that is portrayed as a type of diplomatic hostage, though there have been several times that princes at the Yamato court came back to Baekje to rule after the king died or was killed.  All of this to say that not only did ambassadors from Yamato go to these countries, but ambassadors also traveled to Yamato, while various immigrants from these areas of Baekje, Silla, and even Goguryeo occasionally settled in Yamato.  This further increased the number of individuals with knowledge and experience of continental concepts and technology, and we can see their influence in numerous different ways. This was all part of what led to the Yamato government's adoption of Tang style law codes, though it should be noted that the law codes were not taken wholecloth.  Rather, they were adapted specifically to the issues of the archipelago.  This was the beginning of what came to be known as the Ritsuryo system, literally the system of laws and punishments. Under this system, the government went from a single Oho-omi, or great minister, to two Great ministers, one of the left and one of the right.  These would come to be known as the Sadaijin and the Udaijin.  Nakatomi no Kamatari was afforded a special place as the third minister, the minister of the center, or Naidaijin, possibly referring to his responsibilities with the interior of the royal household, while the ministers of the left and right would have had particular ministries beneath them - eight ministries in total, with various departments underneath them.  They would be assigned to report either to the Minister of the Left or the Minister of the Right, each one overseeing, effectively, half of the government portfolio. This system, combined with the governors and the Tomo no Miyatsuko in the provinces, meant that Yamato had much more granular control over the workers and the means of production.  They organized households into villages, and villages into districts.  There were lower level officials who reported up the chain all the way to the great ministers, the Daijin, or Oho-omi.  This meant that they effectively abolished the Be and Uji system, at least as it had been set up.  These familial groups continued to operate as families, or perhaps more appropriately as “clans”, given how the groups had come to be. These officials were granted rank and, more importantly, stipends from the government.  A portion of taxes, which were paid in rice, went to various officials.  This meant that officials not only relied on the government for their status, but for their incomes as well. This went along with an attempt to implement something known as the “equal field system”, imported, again, from the continent.  This determined who would work what fields, and was another way that the government was involved down to the actual labor producing the rice that was the economic engine of the State. And that covers most of what we've been up to this past year.  There have been individual accomplishments that we didn't get into, but there is plenty there if you want to listen to it. So that covers the past year in the podcast—a little over half of the 7th century.  It really was a time of dramatic change—whether or not “Taika” was the name given to part of it, it certainly feels appropriate.  Even though the court eventually moved to Naniwa, this is the height of the Asuka period, and the start of the Ritsuryo state.  It would form the foundations for what was to come, and themes from this period will continue to show up again and again. In this next year, we are going to continue to look at Takara Hime's reign and beyond.  We'll see the resolution of the Tang-Goguryeo war, and the impact of all the continental fighting on the archipelago.  We'll also see continued developments within the archipelago itself, hopefully getting through to the end of the 7th century. We are actually reaching the end of the material in the Nihon Shoki.  This does not mean that we are running out of material, though.  The Chronicles end in 697—less than 40 years out from our current place in the Chronicles.  From there, we have the Shoku Nihongi, which covers 95 years, until 797 CE.  Translation of much of the Shoku Nihongi is available through the work of Dr. Ross Bender, and you can find his work online if you want to get a leg up on the reading, though that is a ways out.  For now, we can still comfortably continue with the Nihon Shoki, at least through the reign of Temmu Tennou. Until then, Happy New Year!  As usual, thank you for listening and for all of your support.  Thanks also to my lovely wife, Ellen, for her continued work at helping to edit these episodes! Remember, if you like what we are doing, please tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  

Parang fiesta ang handang pagsasaluhan! Naka-ready na ang mga paputok at ang mga baryang ihahagis for good luck. Naisulat na rin ang mga resolution. Iyan ang mga bagay that we associate with and get excited about for the New Year.All Rights Reserved, CBN Asia Inc.https://www.cbnasia.com/giveSupport the show

„Vojna v polícii stále trvá. Vidím tam pomstu zo strany vládnych predstaviteľov voči čurillovcom," hovorí bývalý riaditeľ Úradu inšpekčnej služby Róbert Miko. Dnes vyšetruje priestupky na okresnom úrade. Po trestnej novele sú vraj zlodeji smelší. Pribúdajú internetoví podvodníci, ktorých však na okresných úradoch nevedia poriadne preveriť. Chýbajú im totiž zákonné právomoci.V rozhovore s Róbertom Mikom sa dozviete:– prečo sa z policajného dôchodku vrátil k vyšetrovaniu;– čo si myslí o najnovších obvineniach policajtov z bývalej NAKA;– či sa nebojí vlastného obvinenia;– v čom vidí pomstu súčasnej vlády;– či verí riaditeľovi inšpekcie Branislavovi Zurianovi;– čo si myslí o opätovnom vyšetrovaní samovraždy Milana Lučanského;– ako pribudli prípady drobných krádeží do 700 eur;– prečo je problém vyšetrovať internetových podvodníkov;– ako sa policajti zbavujú spisov a posielajú ich na okresné úrady;– čo bude s rozpadajúcim sa policajným zborom.

„Vojna v polícii stále trvá. Vidím tam pomstu zo strany vládnych predstaviteľov voči čurillovcom," hovorí bývalý riaditeľ Úradu inšpekčnej služby Róbert Miko. Dnes vyšetruje priestupky na okresnom úrade. Po trestnej novele sú vraj zlodeji smelší. Pribúdajú internetoví podvodníci, ktorých však na okresných úradoch nevedia poriadne preveriť. Chýbajú im totiž zákonné právomoci.V rozhovore s Róbertom Mikom sa dozviete:– prečo sa z policajného dôchodku vrátil k vyšetrovaniu;– čo si myslí o najnovších obvineniach policajtov z bývalej NAKA;– či sa nebojí vlastného obvinenia;– v čom vidí pomstu súčasnej vlády;– či verí riaditeľovi inšpekcie Branislavovi Zurianovi;– čo si myslí o opätovnom vyšetrovaní samovraždy Milana Lučanského;– ako pribudli prípady drobných krádeží do 700 eur;– prečo je problém vyšetrovať internetových podvodníkov;– ako sa policajti zbavujú spisov a posielajú ich na okresné úrady;– čo bude s rozpadajúcim sa policajným zborom.

Štvrtá vláda Roberta Fica má za sebou prvý rok. Expresne menila trestný zákon, zrušila špeciálnych prokurátorov aj NAKA. Na záver roka konsolidovala verejné financie. Výsledkom sú 13-te dôchodky, nižšia DPH na vybrané potraviny, či pomoc s energiami pre všetkých ale aj skokový nárast DPH na 23% a vyššie firemne dane či diaľničná známka. Ministri si platy zvýšili, no zabudli na lekárov a učiteľov. Koalícia bojuje s krehkou 76-kou a nevie zvoliť šéfa parlamentu. Ministerka kultúry vyhnala kultúru do ulíc.Priorita premiéra je zahraničná politika na všetky štyri svetové strany. Nadáva opozícii aj médiám, skáče po svete. Z Číny do Brazílie a teší sa do Ruska a do Turecka. Čo to bol za rok? Prečo dnes na Slovensku čelí chudobe milión ľudí a prečo sú na tom najhoršie rodiny s deťmi, ak vláda pomáha najmä dôchodcom? Aký bude rok 2025? Prežije ho vládna zostava? A ťahá nás predseda vlády z EÚ a z NATO?Braňo Závodský sa rozprával s bývalou premiérkou a profesorkou sociológie Ivetou Radičovou.

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

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

Every Thursday 21:00 Japan time. This week Dan does the podcast from Naka-Meguro, Tokyo. He explains the Japanese word for when you bust inside. Dan answers Patreon members while drinking a new seasonal lemon sour and also talking about some Japanese soccer news. YouTube Video Podcast https://youtu.be/DR51VhonTpc patreon.com/DanWilsonUSAJPN⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ Become a Patreon member for 5 bucks a months (that's like one tall boy) and Dan will give you a shoutout and read your questions on the podcast. Become a sponsor and support the Dan Wilson in Tokyo Podcast. Email: dan.yahola.wilson@gmail.com The Dan Wilson in Tokyo Podcast Your one-stop podcast for everything Japan and Japanese culture...kind of. Dan Wilson is an American living in Japan working in the entertainment industry in the comedy duo Badonkadonk | バドンカドンク Instagram & TikTok = @danielywilson

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

Minister vnútra rok od nástupu do kresla vytvoril špeciálny vyšetrovací tím Covid. Má sa zaoberať manažovaním pandémie. Tým si ale vláda pohnevala vlastného splnomocnenca pre preverenie manažovanie pandémie Covidu Petra Kotlára. Ten ministrovi vnútra Šutajovi Eštokovi odkázal, že mu neverí, a nebude s ním spolupracovať.Čo to všetko znamená? Prečo minister Šutaj Eštok zriaďuje špeciálny tím až teraz a čo chce vyšetriť? Nejde len o politiku a kompromitovanie politických súperov? Pomôže to policajnému zboru v čase keď po reorganizácii a rozpustení NAKA hlási masívne odchody policajtov a tí, ktorí ostali, sa sťažujú na nízke platy? Čo na to hovorí opozícia?Braňo Závodský sa rozprával s bývalým ministrom vnútra a poslancom Národnej rady za hnutie Slovensko Romanom Mikulcom.

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.

Vláda odklepla takmer trojmiliardovú konsolidáciu aj návrh štátneho rozpočtu. Vyriešiť ešte musí stámiliónovú pomoc s cenami energií a nespokojných zdravotníkov, ktorým spomalila rast ich platov.Medzitým opozícia hovorí o porušení zákona pri reorganizácii polície. Nespokojní sú aj policajti, ktorý namiesto príplatkov čakali vyššie platy. A minister Susko, ktorého sa opozícia pokúsi v parlamente odvolať za prepustenie Dušana Kováčika, sa opäť chystá opravovať novelu trestného zákona.Čo na to hovorí opozícia? Prečo hovorí, že rozpustenie NAKA a reorganizácia polícia boli protizákonné? A prečo KDH hovorí, že vládou schválený rozpočet ide proti ľuďom a ako by konsolidáciu robili oni? Braňo Závodský sa rozprával s podpredsedom KDH Viliamom Karasom a poslancom parlamentu a podpredsedom klubu strany Hlas – Sociálna demokracia Samuelom Migaľom.

Matagal na nating iniwasan pag-usapan sa podcast ang ating 2-time gold medalist in gymnastics and vault, at the recent 2024 Paris Olympics, Carlos Yulo, maging ang mother niya at ang girlfriend na si Chloe San Jose. Naka-ilang labas na rin si Yulo on full episodes sa TV gaya ng shows ni Boy Abunda, Toni Talks, at iba pa. Si Chloe ay nag-perform na sa ASAP, ngunit ‘di tayo nagcomment. However, may latest update sa olympian na mukhang wala tayong choice kundi mag-salita na. Kamakailan lang, ang GMA News ay naglabas ng meme to the tune of “Carlos Yulo, nag-suot ng crop top at linabanan ang toxic masculinity.” This is definitely what we need at the height of gender confusion among kids. What is the meaning of toxic masculinity? What are toxic masculinity examples? In this age, napapanahon na ba para makapag-crop top ang mga lalaki? Baka pwede naman, kasi mainit sa ating bansa. The thing is, masculinity is being redefined in the West, and now, even in the Philippines. Jay thinks we're making a big mistake. Listen to the episode to know why.  - - -  You can help SUPPORT THIS PODCAST thru:  Shopee – Arugaan Online Shop:  Jay Aruga's Book "Conservative Ka Ba? A 3-Step Approach to Protecting the Family from Woke Ideology" is NOW Available in Shopee:  https://shopee.ph/product/274489164/25685460706/  Fight this toxic culture in style! Order your THE JAY ARUGA SHOW podcast T-shirt now:  https://shopee.ph/product/274489164/24822983311/  Buying me a coffee thru: https://www.buymeacoffee.com/thejayarugashow  - - -  Today's Sponsor:  Hallow - Try Hallow's premium contents for FREE: https://hallow.com/jayaruga  - - -  The Sentinel Ph:  Follow on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheSentinelPh  - - -  Socials:  Follow on Twitter: https://twitter.com/jagaruga  Follow on Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jay.aruga  Follow on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/TheJayArugaShow  Subscribe on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@JayAruga?sub_confirmation=1