Podcast appearances and mentions of prince shotoku

This episode we are talking about the Four Great Temples--Asukadera, Daikandaiji (aka Kudara Odera), Kawaradera, and Yakushiji.  Much of the information, outside of the Nihon Shoki itself, comes from Donald F. McCallum's book:  "The Four Great Temples: Buddhist Archaeology, Architecture, and Icons of Seventh-Century Japan". For sources, photos, and more information, check out our blogpost at: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-142 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 142: The Four Great Temples   Rising up into the sky, the bronze spire atop the pagoda seemed to touch the heavens.  The beams, doors, and railings were all painted bright red, with white walls, and green painted bars on the windows.  At each level, the eaves swept out, covered in dark ceramic tiles, with shining bronze plaques covering the ends of the roof beams.  At each corner, a bronze bell hung, chiming in the breeze.  This pattern continued upwards, tier after tier. Around the base of the pagoda, throngs of government officials dressed in their formal robes of office moved past, flowing through the temple's central gates.  As they passed, they looked up at the impressive tower, the largest of its kind in all of Yamato.  From somewhere, a deep bell chimed, and the crowds made their way towards the lecture hall.  There, the monks were prepared, with sutras and voices at the ready.  Facing a sacred image, they would read through their sutras in unison.  Their voices would carry through the great empty space and reverberate through the crowds—those that could get close enough to hear, anyway.  The chanting created a musical cacophony.     In that sea of human voices, one could almost sense something more—something spiritual.  A power, that one could almost believe could hold at bay just about any disaster that could befall a person—or even the state itself.   Alright, so this episode we are still in the reign of Ohoama, aka Temmu Tennou.  I know we've already seen how that ends, but there is still a lot to cover. But before I go too far, I'd like to first give  a shout out to Lisa for helping to support the show on Ko-Fi.  I can't tell you how much we appreciate it.  If you would like to support us as well, we'll have more information at the end of this, and every episode. We've talked about how the reign of Ohoama was a time where the court reinforced, but also subtly adjusted, the laws of the Ritsuryo state.  They seem to have equally courted the Kami, Buddhism, and even continental ideas of yin and yang.  Today we are going to dive into Buddhism and the State.  More specifically, I want to talk about something called the Yondaiji, the Four Great Temples, and look at how these government temples, also known as "kanji" or "Tsukasa no dera" came to be, what we know about them from archaeological research, and the role they played in the State.  This is going to probably recap things from earlier episodes.  I am also drawing a lot from a book by Donald F. McCallum called, appropriately, "The Four Great Temples", which goes into a lot more detail than I'll be able to get into, here, but I recommend it for those who are really interested in this subject. Up to this point, we've talked a little about the relationship that the court had with Buddhism.  By the late 7th century, Buddhism had spread throughout the archipelago, and there were many temples likely created by local elites.  Sensoji, in Asakusa, Tokyo, claims a founding of 628, though it may have actually been founded sometime just after 645.  There are other temples around Japan, far from the Home Provinces, which likewise had similar claims to being founded in the early to late 7th century, and I question how much a role the government had in each of them. .  In 673, there were two temple-related mentions of note in the Chronicles.  In one of Ohoama's earliest edicts he orders the copying of the Issaiko, the Buddhist canon, at Kawaradera.   That same year, 673, Prince Mino and Ki no Omi no Katamaro—whom we discussed last episode—were sent to build Takechi temple, later known as Daikandaiji.  I mention Daikandaiji specifically because while it was originally built as the Temple of Takechi, at some point took on that other  name—"Daikandaiji", aka Ohotsukasa no Ohodera—which Aston translates as the "Great Temple of the Great Palace", as it appears to have specifically been designated as the great temple of the government. In other words, it is one of a few National Temples.  And this became particularly important in the year 680, which is the year we are told the government stopped administering—and, more importantly, stopped funding—all but a handful of so-called "national temples".  At this point, as I've mentioned, Buddhism was widespread enough that there were enough adherents that could maintain their own local temples. Of course, local elites likely found some cachet in funding temples, and communities of believers in various areas would likewise have been asked to provide funds as well. So the court accordingly declared that going forward, the government would only administer 2 or 3 national temples.  For all other temples, if tthey had been granted the proceeds of sustenance-fiefs, those would be limited, from the first year to the last, of 30 years in total.  As I read it, that indicates that if they had received the fiefs 15 years ago, they would be allowed to hold onto them for another 15 years, after which point they would need to find alternative sources of funding.  The early national temples appear to be Daikandaiji and Kawaradera.  Finally, there is Yakushiji, which Ohoama began construction on in 680 for his queen, Uno no Sarara, when she was ill—and just hold on to that for now.  Interestingly, Asukadera, or Houkouji, in many ways the original national temple, was not designated as such in the new reorganization, but it would continue to be administered by the government as a temple in a special arrangement. That's why the original count in the Nihon Shoki mentions "2 or 3" national temples instead of four.  These four temples are mentioned in the Shoku Nihongi, the Chronicles following the Nihon Shoki, as the Four Great Temples, or Yondaiji.  Although that work wasn't compiled and published until the end of the 8th century, the term Yondaiji appears in an entry for 702, about five years after the last entry in the Nihon Shoki, and over a decade before its publication So at this point we're going to look at each of these "great" temples individually, plus a couple of other important ones, and what they tell us about the history of Buddhism, Buddhist temples, and the Yamato state at this point in Ohoama's reign. The first of these four temples, chronologically, is Asukadera.  This is the temple originally built by the Soga, and the first major Buddhist temple built.  Its layout shows three separate golden image halls, or kondou.  And here we should probably recap something about the general layout of a Buddhist temple, so we can understand what we are talking about. The most important buildings in a Buddhist temple at this time were the kondou, the golden image halls; the pagoda, or stupa; and the koudou, or lecture hall.  The golden image halls held golden Buddhist images—Buddhas, Boddhisatvas, Arthats, and more.  These rooms are often somewhat dark, and would have been lit mainly by candles, as well as the sun coming through—though even then the sun often is obscured by overhanging rooves and latticework.  Sometimes the doors would have small openings so that the sun's rays strike in a particular way at different times.  All of this presents an image of bright gleaming gold in the darkness—a metaphor for the teachings of the Buddha, but also an intentionally awe inspiring display for those who came to view them and pray. The kondo were usually the first structures to be built for a temple, so if your temple had nothing else, it probably had an image hall. The next structure that one would probably build would be the stupa, or pagoda.  A pagoda was a tower, in which were sometimes kept images, but more importantly, it would often hold some kind of relic.  The idea of the stupa originated as a place to house relics—often bone fragments and teeth attributed to the Buddha, even if those were actually precious stones.  Stupas were originally (and still, in many places) large mounds, but as Buddhism made its way over the Silk Road, these were replaced with multi-tiered towers. Pagodas are often 3 or 5 storeys, though the number of stories can go up to 7 or 9 or as low as 1.    Once again, in a world where most buildings, other than perhaps a specially made lookout tower, were only one or maybe two stories in height, a three to five story pagoda must have been something to behold, especially covered with tiled eaves, adorned with bronze bells, and brightly painted in the continental fashion. In Europe I would point to similar uses of gold and ostentatious ornamentation on the cathedrals of the day, and even in churches more generally, if on a smaller scale.  This is meant to impress and thus lend authority to the institution.  And of course, because that institution was so closely aligned to the State, it gave the State authority as well.  We mentioned, previously, how the monumental structures of the kofun had given way to the Buddhist temples as a form of ritual display. The last of the three buildings I would mention is the lecture hall, or Koudou.  This would also likely have Buddhist images, but it was more of a functional hall for conducting rituals, including recitation of sutras and presenting Buddhist teachings.  The koudou was often at the back or north end of the temple complex.  In early Buddhist temple layouts, it was common to have everything in a straight line, more or less, and to remain symmetrical.  So there would be a main gate through which one would enter.  In front of you there you probably saw the pagoda.  Beyond the pagoda was a path, and then the kondou, or image hall, typically with a lantern in front, and behind that was the koudou, or lecture hall.  This was all typically oriented on a north-south axis, such that one would enter through the southern gate and walk north towards the lecture hall.  The north-south orientation is likely another feature from the continent, where the most important buildings were often south-facing, and thus in the north of the compound.  This was the same with the palace layout, and likely for similar reasons—not just cultural, but also practical.  After all, the sun, in the northern hemisphere, remains slightly to the south, and so this would have provided the most light through the day.   This layout was not strictly adhered to, however. For instance, if we look at Asukadera, you would enter through the southernmost gate and you were then met with another gate for an inner compound.  This middle gate would lead you to a large courtyard, about 320 meters on a side, with a covered walkway, or gallery, along the entire circumference of the compound.  Entering through the middle gate one would have first noticed the large pagoda and not one but three golden image halls.  A path led to the pagoda, and then beyond from the pagoda to the central kondou.  There is even a stone where a large bronze lantern was likely situated between the pagoda and the kondou.  Based on archaeological evidence, it appears that there was originally just one image hall, directly north of the pagoda, but at a later date, they added two more kondou to the east and west of the pagoda.  This has been compared to a temple layout found in Goguryeo, but given that these were likely later additions, and we know that Baekje artisans were involved, I suspect that is just later coincidence. Connecting the layout of the temples to continental examples has been a keen area of study for many scholars.  The general theory is that temple layouts can help point to whether there was more of a Baekje, Silla, or Goguryeo influence during the construction of the temple, and what that might have meant for Yamato's international relations as well as various political factions in the court who may have leaned more towards one group or another. The last building at Asukadera, the koudou, or lecture hall, was directly north of the kondou, but you couldn't get there directly.  The entire pagoda and image hall compound was separate from the lecture hall, which stood north and apart, though still on the temple grounds, which would have been surrounded by an outer wall.   At this point, since we're talking about the layout of Asukadera and where it came from, I'm going to digress from the next of the four great temples and talk about two other early temples that are important for understanding Buddhist temple building at this time. So bear with me for this slight detour. The first of these is Shitennoji, the Temple of the Four Heavenly Kings, in modern Osaka.  This temple is said to have been built in 593, and is attributed to Shotoku Taishi.  Presumably he made a vow to do so during the war between the Soga and the Mononobe, which we discussed back in episode 91.  As you may recall from that and earlier episodes, the Mononobe were considered to be against the idea of Buddhism, while the Soga were promoting it.  Shitennouji was important, but doesn't show up in the Chronicles as much as other temples, and was all the way over in Naniwa.  As such, I suspect that it was not considered a good candidate for "national" temple status at the time.  Still, if we look at the original layout, Shitennoji is quite similar to what we see in Asukadera.  Everything is on a north-south axis.  You go through a middle gate to the inner compound.  There you find a pagoda, and past that, a lantern and then the kondou.  Unlike Asukadera, the koudou, or lecture hall, is incorporated into the back wall, such that the gallery continues from the middle gate around to either side, and then meets at the sides of the lecture hall.  There are also east and west gates, as well as other buildings, but the main layout is pretty comparable. The second is another temple, which also lays claim to being founded by Prince Shotoku Taishi, and which was not included in the four great temples.  This may have had to do with the fact that it wasn't in the Asuka valley, but also may have had to do with just the timing.  That temple is the famous one known as Horyuji.  Horyuji was founded on the site of the Ikaruga palace, said to have been the home of none other than Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi.  As such, one imagines it was quite the prominent temple in its day.  However, it was at a distance from the capital, and it also had the misfortune to have burned down in about 670, just before Ohoama ascended the throne, and it wasn't fully rebuilt until about 711, leaving a forty year gap where the temple was not necessarily at the forefront of Buddhism. Still, like Shitennoji, it is interesting to look at the original layout for Horyuji and compare it to Asukadera.  First off, you have the same north-south orientation, and you have the same separate, internal compound for the image hall and the pagoda.  Unlike in Asukadera, however, the kondou and the pagoda, which both faced south, were on an east-west axis, flanking the central pathway.  Entering through the middle gate one would have seen a five storey pagoda on the left and the kondo on the right.  The Koudou was outside the inner compound in the rear, along that central north-south axis.  There is also evidence of two other buildings.  One likely held a large bell—and possibly a drum—and the other was likely a sutra repository, where they could keep holy texts and various ritual implements. I will also note that, even though Horyuji burned down in 670 and was accordingly not that prominent during Ohoama's reign, it is absolutely worth visiting because substantial portions of those rebuilt buildings are still standing today. Indeed, both the Horyuji pagoda and kondou are among the oldest wooden buildings in the world. The central pillar of the pagoda was felled in 594 according to dendrochronological dating. The kondou was damaged by fire during a restoration in 1949, but about 15-20% of the original building from 670 still remains.  Going back to the Great Temples, the next of these to be built was Kudara Ohodera.  Kudara here means "Baekje", but this appears to refer more to the temple's location near the Kudara river, rather than to the kingdom of Baekje.  Kudara Ohodera is remarkable in a couple of different ways.  First off, there is the fact that it is the first temple with a firm royal lineage—that is to say a temple that claims to have been founded by the sovereign.  Asukadera was founded by Soga no Umako, the Prime Minister, and though Prince Umayado is said to have been the Crown Prince, nonetheless, he never reigned as sovereign, though he was considered the founder of both Shitenouji and Houryuuji.  Kudara Ohodera, however, is said to have been founded at the behest of Tamura, aka Jomei Tennou, who reigned from 629-641.  The temple appears to get its start in a record dated to 639, and by 645 it appears to be fully operational. There is another tale of its founding—in the Daianji Engi, the history of Daianji, a successor temple to Kudara Ohodera, there is mention of a Kumagori Dojo, and many modern histories claim that this was the actual first temple, but there isn't much evidence.  Donald McCallum, in his treatment of Kudara Ohodera's history in his book, "The Four Great Temples", suggests that the Kumagori Dojo story is likely a later legendary founding that got recorded, as there is scant evidence for it, and no mention of it in other records.  On the actual founding of Kudara Ohodera, however, there does appear to be general agreement with the Nihon Shoki, despite some minor differences in the dates. The call to build Kudara Ohodera comes alongside Tamura's also building Kudara Palace.  Kudara Ohodera was also built on a grand scale, and it is said to have had a nine-storey pagoda—almost double the size of a five-storey pagoda, which already towered over other buildings of the time. Despite all of this, for a long time it was unclear where Kudara Ohodera was actually situated.  There were several sites proposed, but most recently archaeological research on Kibi Pond seems to have placed the temple there.  At excavations on the southern side of the pond were found remnants of the foundations of two buildings, arranged in an east-west format.  The western foundation would appear to be for a pagoda—but one much larger than any of the five storey pagodas we've seen elsewhere.  And to the east was the foundation for what appears to be the kondo.  This golden image hall, however, is likewise much larger than any other hall of this time.  This arrangement would fit very well with a Houryuuji-like temple layout.  There were also various other traces that were consistent with the early mid-7th century, which would coincide with the 639-645 dates for Kudara Ohodera's construction.  Subsequent excavations appear to have found quarters for the priests, as well as at least part of a gallery wall and one gate, situated due south of the kondo.  There may have been another gate south of the pagoda.  The koudou, the lecture hall, may have been in the area that was later excavated to create the pond, and therefore we may never have any hard evidence of its location, despite numerous attempts to dig trenches to find more of the temple buildings.  This probably also means that, similar to Shitennouji, the lecture hall  was incorporated into the enclosing gallery wall rather than being outside, because if it was outside, then it likely would have been farther north and we would probably have seen some trace.  As it is, the lack of any trace suggests that it was inside or part of the enclosure with the pagoda and kondou. The large size of this archeological site concurs with what we know about Kudara Ohodera, both in its description and in the fact that it is referred to as "Ohodera", or "Great Temple"—no other temple has really been given that name directly, though there are a few references to "Ohodera"  that are ambiguous and might refer either to this temple or Asukadera..  Still, if this temple, sometimes also called Kibi Pond Temple due to its location, is *not* Kudara Ohodera then that just brings up more questions.  How could there have been such a monumental Buddhist temple this close to Asuka and within the bounds of the later Fujiwara-kyo and yet nobody thinks to mention it?  It doesn't appear to have been started and abandoned, as there were quite a few structures built.  So if this isn't Kudara Temple then someone has some 'splaining to do. Indeed, McCallum notes that while there are some objections, the preponderance of evidence seems to lean greatly in favor of the Kibi Pond site for Kudara Ohodera.  We still have yet to find the Kudara palace, however, so who knows.  There are also questions about the construction as various architectural features are missing in ways that are not consistent with other sites. Some oddities, such as a seeming lack of rooftiles given the apparent size of the building, actually may be a point in favor of this being Kudara Ohodera, since we know that the temple was moved in 673 when Ohoama requested that they build the Takechi Ohodera, which appears to have been Kudara's successor temple.  If they had reused the material from Kudara Ohodera to build, at least in part, Takechi Ohodera, that could explain why rooftiles and other such things are not present in the numbers expected at the Kibi Pond site. Takechi Ohodera is another bit of a mystery.  I can't help but note that Takechi is the name given Ohoama's son who was with him on the front lines of the Jinshin no Ran.  We also see a "Takechi no Agata-nushi", who is noted as the governor of the district of Takechi.  In all cases here it is spelled "Taka-ichi", or "high market", and it is not an uncommon name—we even find a Miwa no Kimi no Takechimaro.  In the record of the Jinshin no Ran it is noted that the governor of Takechi was possessed by the kami of Takechi and of Musa.  These were named as Kotoshironushi and Ikuikazuchi.  They claimed that they had been the kami that escorted Ohoama to Fuwa and saw him safely there.  As such, donations were made to their shrines.  Musa is an area in modern Takaichi district, which includes the area of Asuka, and is part of Kashihara city.  The Takaichi Agata Jinja—or the Takechi District Shrine—sits in the Shijo area of Kashihara city, north of Mt. Unebi. There are several proposed locations for Takechi Ohodera, but despite excavations, no clear temple features have been found.  As such, there isn't anything to clearly point to one or the other. What we do know is that Takechi Ohodera underwent another transformation.  According to the Daianji Engi, the Takechi Ohodera was renamed to Daikandaiji in 677.  There is no specific mention of this in the Nihon Shoki, other than a note that Takechi Ohodera was also known as Daikandaiji and a reference, in 679, of "fixing the names".  Personally, I can't help but wonder if this is a case of a nickname becoming the name-in-fact.  As I mentioned earlier in the episode, Daikandaijij, which can also be read as "Oho-tsukasa no Oho-tera" can be translated into something like Great Government Official Great Temple or Great Temple of the Royal Court.  We do know the location of this temple in later years, but this is probably not exactly where Takechi Ohodera was originally built. For one thing, it is suspicious that the temple lines up exactly with the later grid for Fujiwara-kyo, the later capital city that was built north of Asuka.  We also are told by the Daianji Engi that a nine storey pagoda and kondou were built between 697 and 707 CE.  There are also notes about activities at the temple mentioned in the Shoku Nihongi for the same period.  And yet there were also activities being held during that time which would not seem feasible if they were renovating in place.  So likely the new construction was at a new site—possibly near the old site.  And at this later site, the rooftiles were from a later period, closer to the period of the later construction and not really matching with earlier construction dates. So what did this temple of many names – Kudara Ohodera, then Takechi Ohodera, then Daikandaiji – actually look like?  We probably have a layout for the original temple and the later temple.  If Kibi Pond Temple is the original Kudara Ohodera, the original temple had the kondou and the pagoda on the same east-west axis, and likely had the koudou north of that – very Horyuji-like.  But based on the layout at the later temple site, we have something quite different.  From the central gate, there is a path straight towards the Kondou, with the Koudou directly north of that, and the nine-storey pagoda in an odd, off-set position, southeast of the kondou.  This disrupts the symmetry even more than the Kudara Ohodera layout.  There is some speculation that this asymmetry was temporary and that they planned to fill the other space but just never got around to it, but there is no indication that they had prepared for anything, either.  Also odd is the fact that the koudou, the lecture hall, was the same size as the image hall, the kondou, and that was roughly the same size as the enormous hall at Toudaiji, which is really saying something.  This really was a tremendous building, fitting for the main temple of the royal government. The third of the four great temples is Kawaradera, and this one is challenging to plot out chronologically as there isn't a lot of documentation.  There is no exact date for the building of Kawaradera.  There is a mention of it in 653, but the same entry in the Nihon Shoki also states that there are sources that claim it should be Yamadadera, instead.  Based on other evidence, this actually seems more likely.  Yamadadera is thought to have been the work of Soga no Kurayamada no Ishikawa no Maro, and it is where he eventually fled when accused of treason.  It was founded in 641, according to the Joguki, the record of Prince Shotoku, but construction didn't actually start until2 years later, and monks only began to occupy it in 648.  The following year, however, construction halted as that is when Ishikawa no Maro fled there and committed suicide.  Construction was resumed in 663, but still took time.  Still, even in the middle of this very long DIY project, it makes sense that there might be some activities in 653, even if construction was paused.   Later the temple would be completed, and seems to have had powerful backing.  Uno no Sarara, Ohoama's queen, was a granddaughter of Ishikawa no Maro, and so likely had a connection to the temple, but it never attained the status of a national temple the way the others had.  As far as its layout—it was similar to Shitennouji, with the pagoda, kondo, and koudou all in a line on the north-south axis. Kawaradera was another matter.  Though we aren't sure when it was built, exactly.  If we discount the 653 date as applying to Yamadadera instead, then the first date we really see anything at Kawara is Kawara Palace, built for Takara Hime—aka Saimei Tennou—who took up residence there when the Itabuki Palace burned.  Later it would be used for her mogari—her temporary interment.  The next mention of a temple at Kawara isn't until this reign, in 673, when Ohoama had the Buddhist canon, the Issaiko, copied, as I noted at the top of the episode.  So it must have been established and built some time before 673. Although we don't know when it was founded, we very clearly know where it was, as the foundations stones are still present, and quite clear—and unlike other Asuka era temples, it would stay in Asuka, rather than being removed up to the new capital at Heijo-kyo. Given everything else and its apparent importance, the lack of information on when Kawaradera was established is quite odd.  McCallum suggests that this could have been deliberate as a way to help delegitimize the temple in the 8th century, but also admits that it may have just been due to the general problems with early record keeping back in the day and there may not have been a good record of why and when the temple was founded.  The rooftiles are similar to those used during the time that the court was at Ohotsu.  I would also note that there is a connection between the foundation stones and a quarry up near Ohotsu at what is, today, Ishiyamadera.  That still doesn't tell us when Kawaradera was founded, as that could have been any time, and doesn't necessarily mean that it was during the time the court was in Ohotsu. Regardless of what textual evidence does or does not exist, the archaeological evidence is pretty staggering.  Even today you can go and see some of the exposed foundation stones.  This was a massive temple.  There was a south gate and then a middle gate just north of that.  The main enclosure was divided into two courtyards.  In the first, just beyond the middle gate, at the north end was the middle kondo, while in the courtyard itself, facing each other on an east-west axis, was a western kondou and the temple pagoda.  Past the middle kondou was a larger courtyard, with the koudou, or lecture hall, in the north, with a bell tower or sutra hall in the south west and southeast corners.  The walls of the enclosure were made up of a covered gallery, and around the outside of the northern courtyard, containing the koudou, were smaller chambers believed to be the monks quarters, something we don't necessarily see at all of the other sites. Despite being an important temple, and one of the Four Great Temples during the Asuka periods, when the capital eventually moved to Heijo-kyo, in modern Nara, Kawaradera had the distinction of being the only one of the four that was not moved as well. All three of the other Great Temples had new compounds built in Heijo-kyo, and the temples were thus "transferred" to the new capital.  Presumably that means that most of the monks and administration moved there, and those new temples took up the roles, duties, and responsibilities of the old temples.  The temple complexes in Asuka were not necessarily destroyed or deconstructed, but instead were apparently left to their own devices, becoming reduced in status.  Many of them fell into disrepair, and when disasters, such as fire, struck they were not rebuilt to the same extent as before, if at all.   Kawaradera, however, appears to have not been transferred.  It would eventually be replaced as one of the Four Great Temples by the temple of Koufukuji, which was specifically a temple for the Fujiwara family, who were having a bit of a moment in the Nara period.  Some have speculated that Kawaradera was specifically left behind in Asuka for that reason—so that the Fujiwara family temple could sneak into the ranks of national temples.  Or it may have been that Kawaradera had a particular connection to Takara Hime and the site of her interment.  If it was a memorial temple to her, then perhaps it didn't seem appropriate to remove it from its physical location.  McCallum also suggests that it was so powerful in its position in Asuka that it preferred to stay and keep its stipend-fiefs, perhaps believing that even the move to Heijo-kyo would be just another short fad, as had been Ohotsu and Fujiwara-kyo.  Of course, if so, they were sorely mistaken. And so Kawaradera would eventually fade from the picture, but during the time of Ohoama's reign, and into that of his immediate successors, it seems that it certainly held some sway. The fourth of the Four Great Temples was the temple of Yakushiji—the temple of the Medicine Buddha.  This is the latest temple of the bunch.  Its construction was ordered in the year 680 in response to Ohoama's queen, Uno no Sarara, falling ill.  And so he vowed to build a temple for her—specifically a temple to Yakushi Nyorai, the Medicine Buddha, whom we discussed last episode.  That said, there is considerable time between the order to construct a temple and getting enough of it built to actually be functional.  I haven't really touched on this, except when I briefly discussed Yamadadera and how long that took to build, but all of these temples were massive works, much more complicated than the traditional palace buildings.  For the most part, palace architecture could be built relatively quickly with the tools and labor available.  This was a good thing, seeing as how, for many years, the sovereign had moved again and again, either because of the previous sovereign's death in the palace or just because they chose a new location for a palace.  As such, one couldn't spend years building a new palace.  So palace buildings were simply made with wooden posts, sunk into the ground, with thatched roofs.  In a few examples we see attempts to use wooden boards or tiles, but they weren't complicated. A temple, on the other hand, was something different.  Temples were largely wood, but they were massive in size and their roofs were covered in heavy ceramic tiles.  All of that weight had to be properly distributed on a strong base—simple posts were not likely to work.  Instead they were built on raised stone foundations.  That's great for us looking at them, today, but at the time it would have been an inordinate amount of labor.  Hence why a temple like Yamadadera took so long to build. So Yakushiji may have been founded in 680, but was likely not finished until much later, which is why we don't really see it in the records for Ohoama's reign and why the order for national temples probably only states that there were just two or three.  However, it would become one of the four great temples, and is also notable because, in its transfer to Heijokyo, it largely retained its shape and layout, meaning that you can go to it, today, and still get some sense of what it may have been like back in the Asuka period.  Granted, there are certainly differences, but there are enough similarities that it is likely worth a visit.  Many of the other temples were significantly modified when they were rebuilt in the new capital in Nara.  The layout for Yakushiji is a basic rectangular layout.  North of the central gate there is not one, but two pagodas, on an east-west axis from each other, flanking the path to the kondo, roughly in the center.  Finally the koudou at the north end, built into the roofed gallery.  The modern Yakushiji, a UNESCO world heritage site, maintains one of the pagodas from 730.  Other buildings have been lost and rebuilt over the years.  Today, the covered gallery only goes around half of the compound.  This temple would be important, but mostly in the period following the current reign. This period of the four Great Temples perhaps gives us some insight into the relationship between Buddhism and the State.  Early on, Buddhism was the province largely of the Soga family, and Soga no Umako was apparently the most powerful figure of his day.  He founded Asukadera, and early temples weree founded by Soga or their associates, including Prince Umayado.  McCallum points out that the National Temples, however, were, with one exception, founded by sovereigns.  Kudara Ohodera was the first, Kawaradera was likely founded for Takara Hime, and Yakushiji was founded for Queen Uno.  The only one of the four that wasn't expressly founded on a sovereign's order was that of Asukadera, the temple by Soga no Umako.  This may explain why it was both included and excluded as a national temple in the Chronicles.  After all, there is no doubting its importance, but the narrative of a single, strong, royal house is somewhat impeded by the idea that one of those temples was founded by what was, for all of his power and authority, a private individual.  Ultimately they didn't include it in the edict and yet still acknowledged it as one of the Great Temples. McCallum also points out that these four may not have been fixed quite so early on.  For example, on the matter of Houryuuji—there is a bronze plaque that mentions an "Ikaruga no Ohodera", suggesting that the Ikaruga Temple—that is to say Houryuuji, founded on the estates of Prince Umayado—was at one time granted that title.  Of course, there are questions as to the exact date of the inscription, and whether or not they meant "Ohodera" in the later sense of a national temple or simply in the sense that it was large; and the term may have meant something else, earlier on. The roster of official temples, the Tsukasa no Tera or Kanji, would grow over time, but that is something for a later period.  It is worth noting, though, that the Chronicles at this point seem to distinguish between three types or levels of temples at this time, based on other edicts that we see.  There is also the matter of temple names. The first edict is from the 5th day of the 4th lunar month of 679, six years into Ohoama's reign.  The declaration states that the court would consider the history of any temple with sustenance fiefs and add or remove them as appropriate.  This suggests that there were temples with sustenance fiefs—that is, that had stipends based on lands whose official output went to their upkeep—and temples without such fiefs.  The latter were likely more local temples, likely funded by local elites, possibly out of actual devotion, or an attempt to gain the power that Buddhism presumably brought, or possibly just in emulation of the central court, much as the peripheral elites had also constructed the keyhole shaped kofun.  Along with the adjustments of stipends, we are also told that the administration quote-unquote "fixed" the names of the temples. This again goes to the government's control of the temples and Buddhism.  McCallum suggests that what is meant here is that they moved away from locative names to Buddhist names for the temple; up to this point, temple names appear to be about the location of the temple.  So we have Asuka dera, or Asuka Temple, built in Asuka.  Kudara Ohodera is Kudara Great Temple because it was by the Kudara river and the Kudara palace.  When it was moved to Takechi, they changed the name to Takechi temple.  Kawaradera was at Kawara, while the temple we know as Houryuuji was known at the time as Ikaruga Temple—or possibly Ikaruga Great Temple.  But later these temples would be known by their Buddhist names, so Asukadera is Houkouji.  Kudara Ohodera becomes Daikandaiji—and in fact, it is after this point that we see Daikandaiji in the narrative.  Ikaruga dera—though not one of the yondaiji, or four Great Temples—becomes Horyuuji.  I'm not quite so sure about Kawaradera, but Yakushiji, which is founded after this decree, comes to us with a Buddhist name rather than just the name of a location. This change in name likely simplified, somewhat, the concept of moving, or transferring the temples.  Rather than establishing a brand new temple with new administration and everything, they could build a new temple, but grant it the name and rights of the old temple.  The old temple grounds could still be used and occupied—it was still *a* temple, but it was no longer *the* temple, at least for official purposes.  It would be strange, however, to move the Asuka Temple up to the area of modern Nara city and still call it the Asuka Temple. The year after reassessing the stipends and fixing the names of the temples we get the edict about the 2 or 3 national temples.  And we've mostly discussed that, but here I would just point out that it does add a third distinction to the types of temples.  So we have temples with no stipends, temples with stipends—but they would only last for 30 years total after which they were expected to find new sources of funding—and the national temples, which would presumably receive funding through the government in perpetuity—or until the court changed its mind. So why do we care about any of this?  Obviously Buddhism has had a huge impact on Japanese culture.  However, this isn't just about the religion as an idea, but about the institutions.  These temples—especially these great temples—contained a fair amount of wealth.   It wasn't just the golden images, or the elaborate amount of work and materials that went into the creation of the buildings.  There was also the sustenance-fiefs that were paying for the upkeep.  These temples were also being managed by formal government administrators.  They also performed rituals that the court relied on.  Association with these temples was no doubt important.  Later we see princes and other members of high status families taking high ranking positions, and the temples ended up cultivating their own power.  Over time, the power of various Buddhist institutions would grow,  often challenging or even rivaling the power of the court itself. There are a few other items from this reign that we see related to these temples and Buddhism, more generally.  In 677 we see a Buddhist festival at Asukadera, where the entire canon was apparently reda out.  The sovereign himself showed up and did obeisance to the Three Precious Things—an interesting bit of religious piety and humility.   At the same time, he had all of the Princes and Ministers find one person each to renounce the world and become a monk or nun—both men and women were chosen, without apparent distinction.  We are also assured that they all did so of their own volition, and weren't forced.  In 679, we see a regulation on the clothing of priests and nuns, as well as the men and horses who  accompanied them when they traveled.  If priests are going around with a full on noble retinue, well, that probably says something about the status of priests—at least the abbots and heads of these institutions. 680 – A fire breaks out at the nunnery at Tachibana temple.  Tachibanadera is situated south of Kawaradera, and similar to that temple, it seems to have previously been the site of a royal palace and also isn't recorded as being founded in the Nihon Shoki—it appears fully formed in this record.  Tachibanadera's own records seem to suggest that it was founded in 606, and claims a founding by Shotoku Taishi.  It is also said to be the site of the palace where Shotoku Taishi was born to his mother, Princess Anahobe no Hashibito, consort of Tachibana no Toyohi, aka Yomei Tennou.  Shotoku Taishi is also the subject of the primary image of Tachibana temple, today.  Although Tachibanadera wasn't one of the Four Great Temples, it was likely connected to one—Kawaradera.  Not only was it built on the same north-south axis as Kawaradera, but some of the tiles are similar to Kawaradera's founding tiles.  The layout was similar to Yamada-dera or Shitennouji, with the pagoda, kondou, and kooudou, all in a single north-south orientation.  It is possible that Kawaradera was a monastery for male monks while Tachibanadera may have been the complementary nunnery for female initiates.  680 had a lot going on.  In the 10th lunar month, the sovereign handed out alms to monks and nuns—silk and cloth.  A month later, Ohoama vowed Yakushiji in hopes that it would help his wife, Queen Uno, who was unwell.  He also granted a general amnesty, likely to just add further merit.  Apparently it was successful, as she would go on to live for quite some time after that, even helping to take the reins of government when Ohoama himself fell ill. In 682, Princess Hidaka fell ill.  190 people, both men and women, were pardoned for capital or lesser crimes, in an attempt to make merit, and the following day we are told that over 140 people renounced the world at Daikandaiji—likely on the Princess's behalf. The year after that, 683, we see the sovereign making appointments to the official buddhist offices of Soujou, Soudzu, and Risshi—Doctors of the Law.  This was probably a somewhat regular occurrence, though this is the first time we see the Risshi, it seems.  The mention here is apparently due to the admonition given that "Those who control the monks and nuns should act according to the law."  Definitely seems to be something there—perhaps a reason as to why the Soujou and Soudzu were being appointed.  But the Nihon Shoki doesn't give us a lot more to go on other than speculation. Later that same year, in the 7th lunar month, we see priests and nuns gathered at the palace for the first ever ango, or retreat.  An ango is where priests and nuns of different temples are brought together.  The term refers to a practice said to come from the time of Shakyamuni, before there were temples.  Shakyamuni's acolytes, who spent much of the year wandering, would return to one place during the rainy season. At that time they would listen and discuss Shakyamuni's teachings.  In some sects, this practice of coming together would be particularly important, and it was a mark of honor for how many retreats a monk might have attended over the years. In 685, the court promoted Buddhism with an edict requiring every household to maintain a Buddhist altar, with a statue of the Buddha and a copy of a sutra inside.  It is unclear to me if this was just for merit-making or what, but it must have been somewhat lucrative for the various temples, who would have likely been the source for said sutras, and, at least peripherally, the statues as well.  Later that year, in the 4th lunar month, there was another ango at the palace.  The month after that, Ohoama went to Asukadera and presented precious objects and worshipped.  In the 8th lunar month Ohoama went to Joudouji – Aston claims this is Asukadera, also known as Houkouji—and the next day he visited Kawaradera and provided rice to the monks there.  One month after that, Ohoama was feeling ill, so the court ordered Daikandaiji, Kawaradera, and Asukadera—the three Great Temples that were fully operational at that point—to chant sutras for his sake.  In return they were granted various quantities of rice. Ohoama recovered for a time, but it was perhaps a precursor of what was to come.  A month later a monk from Baekje and a lay monk were sent out to seek a medicinal herb known as white okera.  Today, a similar compound is known in Chinese traditional medicine as Bái Zhú.  A few months later Ohoama went to the medicinal herb garden of Shiranishiki, and a few weeks later he was presented with Bai Zhu, the boiled white okera.   That same day, ritualists performed the Chikonsai, the "Calling of the Spirit".  All of this seems to indicate the early onset of symptoms that may have been temporarily abated, but likely were part of the disease or illness that would eventually take his life. But we covered most of that last episode, and we are already dragging on longer than I expected, so I think I'm going to end it here.  Coming up in the narrative, since I started to mention it, I'll probably take a look next at the founding of the new capital of Fujiwara kyo, and what that would mean, along with other initiatives that would outlive Ohoama. Until then 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.  

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

I am sharing with everyone the miraculous tales of the Lotus Sutra from ancient Japan which is actually a commonly reference book in ancient commentary and teachings. I think that it is essential for us to understand these stories that many of our founders of the Buddhist traditions of Japan would have read to understand better the context of their teachings. --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/enkyoji-network/support

Prince Shotoku (574 - 622) The man who coined the term "Japan", the man who wrote the first constitution in the Japanese islands, the father of Japanese Buddhism is considered on all accounts to be a saint. But I have this gut feeling he's a war criminal and today we will explore this idea.

Hosted by filmmaker Yujiro Seki, Carving the Divine TV Podcast is a series of Q&A sessions with Buddhist scholars and practitioners. These Q&A sessions explore the basic concepts of Buddhism and the history of Buddhism so that when listeners finally watch the documentary film "Carving the Divine - Buddhist Sculptors of Japan" they will get the maximum value of the documentary. In this episode, we will discuss the legendary Japanese prince, Shotoku Taishi who contributed early Japanese Buddhism and more!Support the show (https://www.patreon.com/carvingthedivine)

A new religion arrives on Japan's fair shores - but will it be welcomed or ostracized? The Soga and Mononobe clans end up on opposite sides of the issue and must fight one another for the future of their nation.For pictures of some of the oldest Buddhist temples in Japan, check out the supplemental post!

The Soga and the Mononobe clans fight to determine the future of Japan. Prince Shotoku, Soga no Umako, and Empress Suiko help usher in foreign reforms. Thank you for listening to the Saga of Japan, I hope you enjoyed this weeks episode. You can always shoot your questions over to twitter.com/SagaofJapan. If you're a fan of the podcast, please leave a review, rating, or tell a friend you think might enjoy the show about us. You have no idea how much I appreciate you joining us on this journey, thank you so much. Source list: The Nihon Shoki (Primary Source) The Kojiki The Cambridge History of Japan Vol. 1 A Concise History of Japan by Brett Walker The History of Japan to 1334 by George Sansom Historians of China and Japan by W.G. Beasley and E.G. Pulleybank Japan: A Concise History - by Milton W. Meyer A History of Japan by John Caiger and Richard Mason Support The Saga of Japan by donating to their Tip Jar: https://tips.pinecast.com/jar/the-saga-of-japan Find out more at https://the-saga-of-japan.pinecast.co

Kevin Gray Carr‘s beautiful new book explores the figure of Prince Shotoku (573? – 622?) the focus of one of the most widespread visual cults in Japanese history. Introducing us to a range of stories materialized in both verbal and visual narratives, Plotting the Prince: Shotoku Cults and the Mapping... Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Kevin Gray Carr‘s beautiful new book explores the figure of Prince Shotoku (573? – 622?) the focus of one of the most widespread visual cults in Japanese history. Introducing us to a range of stories materialized in both verbal and visual narratives, Plotting the Prince: Shotoku Cults and the Mapping of Medieval Japanese Buddhism (University of Hawai’i Press, 2012) frames Shotoku as a symbolic vessel. Part I of the book looks at the changing identities of the prince as objects of devotion and veneration, tracing his visual cult through the fourteenth century. In this context, the figure of Shotoku, across multiple lives and associations with other religious figures, grounded a new sacred topography whose center had shifted away from India and China and toward the spaces of Japan. Part II of the book focuses on the visual culture that mapped the various identities of the prince onto the Japanese sacral landscape. Carr introduces the notion of “cognitive maps” that integrated the elements of time, space, and personhood into the many renderings of Shotoku’s life that were simultaneously cartographic, narrative, and iconic. In addition to this fine-grained and innovative analysis of the time and space of visual materials, Carr also shows readers the centrality of stories and storytelling in helping us make sense of the world around us, and of our own place in it. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Kevin Gray Carr‘s beautiful new book explores the figure of Prince Shotoku (573? – 622?) the focus of one of the most widespread visual cults in Japanese history. Introducing us to a range of stories materialized in both verbal and visual narratives, Plotting the Prince: Shotoku Cults and the Mapping... Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Kevin Gray Carr‘s beautiful new book explores the figure of Prince Shotoku (573? – 622?) the focus of one of the most widespread visual cults in Japanese history. Introducing us to a range of stories materialized in both verbal and visual narratives, Plotting the Prince: Shotoku Cults and the Mapping of Medieval Japanese Buddhism (University of Hawai’i Press, 2012) frames Shotoku as a symbolic vessel. Part I of the book looks at the changing identities of the prince as objects of devotion and veneration, tracing his visual cult through the fourteenth century. In this context, the figure of Shotoku, across multiple lives and associations with other religious figures, grounded a new sacred topography whose center had shifted away from India and China and toward the spaces of Japan. Part II of the book focuses on the visual culture that mapped the various identities of the prince onto the Japanese sacral landscape. Carr introduces the notion of “cognitive maps” that integrated the elements of time, space, and personhood into the many renderings of Shotoku’s life that were simultaneously cartographic, narrative, and iconic. In addition to this fine-grained and innovative analysis of the time and space of visual materials, Carr also shows readers the centrality of stories and storytelling in helping us make sense of the world around us, and of our own place in it. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Kevin Gray Carr‘s beautiful new book explores the figure of Prince Shotoku (573? – 622?) the focus of one of the most widespread visual cults in Japanese history. Introducing us to a range of stories materialized in both verbal and visual narratives, Plotting the Prince: Shotoku Cults and the Mapping of Medieval Japanese Buddhism (University of Hawai’i Press, 2012) frames Shotoku as a symbolic vessel. Part I of the book looks at the changing identities of the prince as objects of devotion and veneration, tracing his visual cult through the fourteenth century. In this context, the figure of Shotoku, across multiple lives and associations with other religious figures, grounded a new sacred topography whose center had shifted away from India and China and toward the spaces of Japan. Part II of the book focuses on the visual culture that mapped the various identities of the prince onto the Japanese sacral landscape. Carr introduces the notion of “cognitive maps” that integrated the elements of time, space, and personhood into the many renderings of Shotoku’s life that were simultaneously cartographic, narrative, and iconic. In addition to this fine-grained and innovative analysis of the time and space of visual materials, Carr also shows readers the centrality of stories and storytelling in helping us make sense of the world around us, and of our own place in it. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Kevin Gray Carr‘s beautiful new book explores the figure of Prince Shotoku (573? – 622?) the focus of one of the most widespread visual cults in Japanese history. Introducing us to a range of stories materialized in both verbal and visual narratives, Plotting the Prince: Shotoku Cults and the Mapping of Medieval Japanese Buddhism (University of Hawai’i Press, 2012) frames Shotoku as a symbolic vessel. Part I of the book looks at the changing identities of the prince as objects of devotion and veneration, tracing his visual cult through the fourteenth century. In this context, the figure of Shotoku, across multiple lives and associations with other religious figures, grounded a new sacred topography whose center had shifted away from India and China and toward the spaces of Japan. Part II of the book focuses on the visual culture that mapped the various identities of the prince onto the Japanese sacral landscape. Carr introduces the notion of “cognitive maps” that integrated the elements of time, space, and personhood into the many renderings of Shotoku’s life that were simultaneously cartographic, narrative, and iconic. In addition to this fine-grained and innovative analysis of the time and space of visual materials, Carr also shows readers the centrality of stories and storytelling in helping us make sense of the world around us, and of our own place in it. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

The Fall 2010 Numata Lecture at the Institute of Buddhist Studies was delivered by Prof. Kenneth Lee of the California State University, Northridge. Prof. Lee discussed Shinran Shonin's wasan, the Kōtaishi Shōtoku hōsan in devotion to Prince Shotoku, revered as the founder of Buddhism in Japan.

The Fall 2010 Numata Lecture at the Institute of Buddhist Studies was delivered by Prof. Kenneth Lee of the California State University, Northridge. Prof. Lee discussed Shinran Shonin's wasan, the Kōtaishi Shōtoku hōsan in devotion to Prince Shotoku, revered as the founder of Buddhism in Japan.

On the day which we remember Prince Shotoku's legacy, Sensei discusses his own short comings in light of the promise of the Nembutsu.