Podcasts about Silla

The Dazai no Sochi--the head of the Yamato government in Kyushu--was a powerful position, with a lot of autonomy with lucrative opportunities.  The people in this position were often powerful members of the court capable of representing the sovereign.  They would often go on to become quite powerful in their own right.  So who were the movers and shakers that held this prestigious position during Uno no Sarara's reign?  This episode, we take a look at those who held the position and those who supported them. For more, check out our blogpost:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-151 PS:  Hang around to the end (or check the end of the transcript) for information on some possible updates coming to the show. Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Episode 151: The Dazai no Sochi of the late 7th century   Tsukushi no Masaru was busy.  A new boss was coming in, and he wanted to make sure everything was prepared.  The Dazai may have been about as far as one could get from the capital and still be in Yamato, but it was also the first—and sometimes only—encounter some would have with the archipelago, so there was no excuse to be slacking off.  Of course, this was hardly his first new boss, though for as long as he'd been on the job, each one could well be his last.  He was getting a bit long in the tooth, after all.  Twenty-nine years was a long time to be working in the same position.  As Masaru paused, he thought back on some of the people he'd served.  There was Soga no Akae—he was ambitious.  Apparently he'd been in some rather compromising positions before coming out, but he'd done well enough when he went back.  Shame that he backed the wrong horse. That did bring a chuckle to old Masaru's throat, though.  He remembered when Prince Kurikuma had come out there, to the the Dazai, , and there were still people around who told stories of him.  When those Afumi court stooges had showed up to try and conscript the barrier guards, Prince Kurikuma and his sons just stared them down.  Everyone had been afraid that it would end in bloodshed, or at least that there would be consequences for defying the court, but Kurikuma was adamant, and the messenger had left with his tail firmly between his legs. Then there was Shima. By the time he came, Masaru already knew how everything was supposed to work. He may not have been in charge, but that wasn't his ambition.  It was enough for him to be good at what he did.  He didn't need to go all the way to the Palace and deal with the politics there—there were enough politics out here already.  Shima, though, he was clearly suited for that Palace life.  He was a capable administrator, but Masaru could tell he was ambitious.  When he left, everyone knew that he would be going on to bigger and better things. And now there was another Prince coming out. So they would get the government offices prepared and greet him with proper fanfare.  They'd bring him in and hold the ceremonies, and then they would get down to work.  A stream of officers would present him with what they were working on and what had to happen.  Masaru would be there to help make sure that everything was running smoothly and nothing got too out of hand.  And that was the way things worked out on the edge of the realm.   Welcome back to Sengoku Daimyo.  We are still covering the reign of Uno no Sarara, and, similar to last episode, we are going to continue to talk about the people who made up Yamato at this time.  This episode, more specifically, we are going to be turning away from the capital, in Asuka, and looking all the way over to Tsukushi—modern Kyushu—and at the people who served as Dazai no Sochi, or head of the local government out there, as well as the bureaucrats and staff that worked for them—at least as far we know.  Many of them went on to have considerable careers that took them well beyond Kyushu.  At the same time, we'll take a look at some of the things that happened under their rule as what Aston translates as the "Viceroy of Tsukushi". After that, I have a special announcement about the podcast at the end of the episode, so if you are interested in learning more about what we plan on doing, please listen all the way to the end to hear about some plans for the future. And with that out of the way, let's begin. So we are talking about the position of Dazai no Sochi or the Viceroy of Tsukushi.  Often these people are referred to only as being of the "Tsukushi no Dazai" or the "Tsukushi no Ohomochi".  The term "Sochi" appears later, and we first see this term applied to Prince Kawachi, in 689.  It seems to show up with two different characters, which might be a term from the later Taihou code that was retroactively applied or may refer to an evolution of the position over time.  I'm honestly not sure.  There is still plenty of confusion over what was meant in some of the references. We've discussed this position before on the podcast: This was the sovereign's representative to the world outside of the archipelago.  Not only did the Dazai no Sochi  oversee all of Tsukushi—all of Kyushu— and extensive defensive forces stationed there and in the outlying islands, but they oversaw all diplomatic and trade missions to and from the archipelago.  Envoy missions would come to Tsushima, where they would get a local pilot and send word ahead.  They would then be received at the government center, the Dazai, near modern Fukuoka and Hakata bay.  For most envoys, this was as close as they would ever get to Yamato proper.  They would offload their goods there and be put up at the government supplied quarters in Wogohori.  They would be wined and dined there, entertained as appropriate to their status, while word was sent on to the capital.  In rare cases, envoys would be sent on another journey through the inland sea to Naniwa, and then on to Asuka, but otherwise their journey would end at the Dazaifu.  Any return gifts would come back with the correspondence from the capital, and thus be handed out to the envoys and their escorts before the mission was sent back home to Silla, Tamna, or wherever they had come from. Being the middle man in this operation offered a lot of power and authority, but it also would have been quite lucrative.  While diplomatic missions brought gifts for the court, they also brought  trade goods, of which the Dazai no Sochi could have first  pick.  This is on top of the fact that this position often came with a stipend equaling the labor of hundreds of individuals.  Many of the Dazai no Sochi would serve limited terms, eventually returning to Asuka, where we see them take on powerful positions. Take, for example, our first Dazai no Sochi, Tajihi no Mabito no Shima. Tajihi no Shima was born, we are told, in or around 624 to Tajihi no Maro and a daughter of Ohotomo no Hirafu.  Tajihi no Maro, Shima's father was a powerful noble in the court of Ohoama, aka Temmu Tennou, and he had enough standing that he was one of the named individuals who provided eulogies for Ohoama on the occasion of his passing.   The Tajihi family were quite well placed: they were descendants of Hinokuma no Takata no Miko, aka Senka Tennou, Shima's great-grandfather.  This earned them the kabane of "Mabito", or "True Person" because of their royal lineage.   Tajihi no Shima was placed in charge of the Dazai from at least 682.  His predecessor that we know about is Prince Yagaki, who was dismissed around 676, and we don't know who filled the gap between him and Shima. Shima had quite the run.  We don't know exactly when he returned to the court in Asuka, but it cannot have been later than 689, when we see Awada no Mahito in the position.  A year later, in 690, Shima was made Udaijin, or minister of the right.  That's a huge deal and we will talk about that in a bit, but what did Shima actually oversee during his tenure as Dazai no Sochi? We have quite a few events attributed to him, this reign.  In 686, we see the Tsukushi no Dazai sending tribute in the form of human beings:  Common men and women of Goguryeo, Baekje, and Silla, along with 62 priests and nuns.  We aren't told where these men and women came from, but I suspect that they were refugees or captives from all the fighting on the peninsula.  That they were given as tribute suggests to me that they were enslaved—or at the very least they were not free.  If they were uneducated, they were likely put to work as labor, perhaps building out the new capital or opening new farmlands.  Later we see the various missions from Silla around the death of Ohoama, and the back and forth that went on, there, and in 688 the Tsukushi no Dazai entertained Kara, a Minister of Tamna, aka modern Jeju island, who had been sent by the king of that small country.  You may recall that Tamna, while late to the game, may have been one of the last holdouts of an early Japonic speaking people outside of the archipelago. Being the Tsukushi no Dazai, Shima would not have only been concerned with foreign envoys, but also with two other groups of Hayato—specifically the Ohosumi no Hayato and the Ata no Hayato.  Little is known about them, other than that Yamato considered them to be distinct ethnic and cultural groups living in the far south of Kyushu.  We've talked before about how southern Kyushu maintained a significantly different material culture through Kofun period until more recent times.  We also have indication that they had a distinctive shield and even art style—the famous "Hayato shields" appear to have been appropriated by the court, along with a contingent of Hayato men that were expected to act as an exotic guard for the sovereign and the court.  The earliest reliable evidence we have for them is a record from 682.  There are some questions as to whether or not they were related to the groups previously called Kumaso or even the Tsuchigumo, but there is no clear historical or archaeological  evidence linking them other than the common cultural finds in Kyushu more generally. The Ata and Ohosumi Hayato may have been distinct clans or lineage groups living in Ohosumi and the area of modern Satsuma.  We have a record in 687 of the Ata no Hayato attending Ohoama's funeral and presenting a eulogy.  The chiefs who came brought 337 others—a sizeable contingent—and they were all given presents by the court.  Later, we would see presents given out to 174 Hayato by Shima's successor in the Dazai, Awada no Mahito, and then in 692 we know that the court sent priests to preach Buddhism to Ata and Ohosumi.    In 695, Hayato of Ohosumi were entertained in the capital, and they even held a wrestling match for the Queen and her attendants in the area west of Asukadera, by the site of the famous Tsuki tree. So the Hayato would have been another group that Shima no doubt dealt with on a somewhat regular basis in his capacity as Dazi no Sochi—and then later on when he returned to Asuka and took up his new role as Udaijin.   And as I mentioned, that appointment was a Big Deal.  The position of Udaijin had been vacant since Nakatomi no Kane, one of the infamous leaders of the Afumi court, was non-consensually removed from the position—and this plane of existence—when he was executed in 672, at the closure of the Jinshin no Ran.  After that, Ohoama appears to have been gun-shy about sharing power with anyone outside the royal family.  The position had been left vacant for about 18 years.  So what made Uno no Sarara take up Shima as Minister of the Right?  And what about the Minister of the Left, or the Sadaijin? Well, we don't have a Sadaijin, but we do have a Dajodaijin in the form of Prince Takechi, Ohoama's first-born son.  The Dajodaijin was the Prime Minister in charge of the entire Dajokan, the Council of State, made up of the ministers of the left and right and the 8 bureaus of the government.  The Sadaijin and Udaijin served under the Dajodaijin, in that hierarchical order, with the Sadaijin generally being considered higher in precedence.  So it looks like, in this case, they had the Dajodaijin, Prince Takechi to run the Council and Shima, as Udaijin would have been responsible for ensuring the administration of the eight bureaus was properly carried out. That Shima was appointed just under Prince Takechi again shows the power and influence he likely had and the trust he must have had from Uno no Sarara.  Remember, the Crown Prince, Kusakabe, had died before he could take the throne.  Uno was enthroned as Queen, while the Crown Prince, Karu, was still a minor.  Whereas Ohoama had his wife and many sons to help him run things, Uno no Sarara was running thin.  As had been seen with Prince Ohotsu, there was always the threat that one of Ohoama's other sons could be propped up on the throne.  Uno had to look after Karu's birthright, but there was no guarantee that he would make it to adulthood in times before modern medicine.  It appears that Prince Takechi was actually considered the next in line, just in case something happened to Karu before he could ascend the throne, which makes sense that Prince Takechi was also trusted as Dajo Daijin.  Shima's place as Udaijin must have been indicative of similar trust that he would look after the royal family's interests.  This was no doubt helped by the role he played as Dazai no Sochi. As Udajin, Tajihi no Shima went on to have a rather incredible career.  He was given 4 cho of land for his residence.  This appears to be around 10 acres or so—a not inconsiderable amount of land, and it probably refers to the amount of land he was granted in the new Fujiwara capital city.  Later, in the Nara capital of Heijo-kyo, Prince Nagaya's residence was about that size and Fujiwara no Nakamaro's residence is thought to have been about twice that.  This would have given Shima space for multiple buildings, sprawling gardens, servants quarters, quarters for his wives and children, and much more. Tajihi no Shima would continue in his role as Udaijin, and would eventually, be promoted to the position of Sadaijin, a post he held only briefly, as he passed away almost a year later. He was not forgotten, however.  It is thought that he was the model for one of the suitors of Kaguya Hime in the famous story of Taketori Monogatari—the tale of the Bamboo Cutter.  Taketori Monogatari, also known as Kaguya Hime Monogatari, is considered the oldest known story in the Monogatari form.  It was probably written in the late 9th or early 10th century, with references to it appearing in works as early as 909 CE.  This suggests that Tajihi no Shima and others were still remembered, at least in part, over a century later. Shima is also thought to have been the patron of the famous poet, Kakinomoto no Hitomaro, one of the famous 36 immortal poets.  We'll have to include Hitomaro in a later episode, though we might come back to him after this reign, as he isn't mentioned in the Chronicles, but we do have some fragmentary biographical information thanks to his inclusion in the Man'yoshu.  In fact, he's probably one of the most famous poets in the Man'yoshu who is not otherwise mentioned.  We are told that he was the court poet during the reign of Uno no Sarara, so it makes sense that Shima may have very well been his patron and helped him get his start. Now while Shima was back in Asuka, making it big in the court, the position of Tsukushi no Dazai had to be filled, and we are told that the mantle was taken up by Awada no Mahito no Ason.  This name is a bit tricky, as it seems to have two kabane:  Mahito and Ason.  Since his father is said to have been Kasuga no Awada no Omi no Kudara, the assumption seems to be that "Mahito" was his name, rather than his kabane.  Although it was likely pronounced "Mabito" at the time, I'm going to go with the modern pronunciation of "Mahito" in part to distinguish it from the kabane.  A quick side note:  When reading names from this period, we usually see the kabane coming right after the family name, as the kabane is basically a rank for the family and not the individual.  But we do occasionally see the kabane tacked on at the end of a name, as in Awada no Mahito's case.  I would also like to quickly draw your attention to his father's name:  Kudara.  That can also be read as Baekje.  Was this an indication that his father or an ancestor came from the continent, perhaps from Baekje?  Or just that he had close ties to that kingdom?  I couldn't find anything specific, but it seems interesting that he was put in place at the Dazai, where dealing with the continent would have been an important part of his duties. Awada no Mahito was not just a noble of the court, and even if his father was of Baekje descent, that may not have been the main thing that gained him the position.  It may have also had to do with an earlier incident.  We are told that in 653 Mahito was one of those who traveled with the 2nd envoy to the Tang court as a scholar monk.  He would later return to secular life, but that experience must have been a big feather in his cap, helping him land a good position at court.  In fact, in 685, we are told that he was Jikikwoushi rank—a fairly respectable position for anyone at the time—and he apparently tried to get his father raised to the same rank as he was.  Aston translates the record as saying he was willing to give his rank to his father, but it is unclear to me if this means he was offering to give up his rank altogether.  At the very least it seems that he felt awkward outranking his father—a good, filial attitude, it would seem.  However, Ohoama didn't care.  In the past, rank may have been given to entire families, but now the court was giving rank to individuals, and the rank Mahito had earned was his, not his father's.  And so his request was denied. Four years later, Ohoama was gone and Awada no Mahito was sent to the Tsukushi no Dazai.  We are told that he was in that position as of 689.  If that was the position of Dazai no Sochi, however, he didn't hold it for long, as Prince Kawachi was raised up to that position that same year, and here we have a bit of a conundrum.  Mahito is only mentioned as "Tsukushi no Dazai" while Prince Kawachi is specifically mentioned, at least twice, as Tsukushi no Dazai no Sochi.  There are some who suggest that Mahito may have been the Dazai Daini, an assistant to the Dazai no Sochi—effectively the second-in-command it would appear.  This makes some sense, when you consider it, and he may even have been acting Dazai no Sochi until Prince Kawachi was appointed. Of course, because our records are quite lackluster, and we are never actually told when Tajihi no Shima left the position, it is possible that Awada no Mahito was actually the Dazai Sochi for many years leading up to 689, and that Shima had returned to Asuka some time ago.  This is the problem with the way things are written—sometimes they mention a name and sometimes just a position, and rarely do they mention when someone stepped down. Still, Mahito oversaw a few things that we can be somewhat sure about as they happened after he is first mentioned in the position, though it was all in the same year.  For one thing, he is the one who presented gifts to the 174 Hayato in the first month of 689.  This included cloth, ox hides, and deerskins.  He was also there when the Queen sent relief to the Barrier Wardens whose terms were up.  These were the Sakimori, a position set up to defend the archipelago and repel any potential invasions.  I would assume they were regularly rotated out, especially if they were expected to man the fortifications out on some of the islands.  It is interesting that we don't often see them referenced, so it isn't clear to me why the reference was made here—it may have just been a note in one of the sources the Chroniclers were using. Later that same year, we also see garments being given out—likely meaning official court clothing—to the Tsukushi Dazai and others.  This was probably to bring them all in line with the latest formal wear being used in the court in Asuka.  We also know that in the 6th month of that year they entertained the Silla envoys, who were given various presents. And then, two months later, Mahito is out and Prince Kawachi comes in.  At the same time that Prince Kawachi is being made the Dazai no Sochi, our previous Dazai no Sochi, Tajihi no Shima, had his rank and fief increased.   I doubt this was a coincidence, and it is one of the things that, for me, lends credence to the idea that Shima had just then returned to Asuka and Prince Kawachi was his replacement, suggesting that Mahito had really just been in an acting capacity while the change over was taking place. Unfortunately, if we were looking for more information about Prince Kawachi's background, we would be disappointed.  Although he is a prince, probably descended from Nunakura, aka Bidatsu Tennou, we don't have a lot about him.  He—or someone with the same name, since we do see these Princely titles get reused, it seems—is found in the reign of Ohoama traveling with Ohotomo no Yasumaro and Fujiwara no Ohoshima to go entertain Gim Jisyang of Silla.  Later we see a Prince Kawachi delivering eulogies during Ohoama's funeral.  That suggests he held an important position, and that he was somewhat familiar with the continent, but we don't get a whole lot more.  Our next evidence is when he was appointed to the post of Dazai no Sochi in 689, a position he would hold until his death in 694—which may also explain why we just don't see too much of him in the record.  A promising career may have been cut short, as happened all too often back in that day and age. Still, as Dazai no Sochi, he had plenty to keep him busy.  Not a month after he arrived, Isonokami no Maro and Ishikawa no Mishina arrived at the head of a delegation.  They were there to deliver patents of rank to members of the Tsukushi government and to inspect the fortifications at the edge of the archipelago.  These were the same fortifications being manned by the newly arrived Sakimori. Speaking of the members of the Tsukushi government, it took a lot of people to make the Dazaifu work, not just the Sochi giving people orders about what they should do.  There were numerous assistants helping to keep everything running.  Some of them would have just been dealing with the Sochi's own residence, while others were clerks, guards, and more.  It really was a miniature version of the court in Asuka, and would have required a lot of people to tend to it.  And we know of at least one of them:  Tsukushi no Fubito no Masaru, whose imagined thoughts we heard at the top of the episode.  In 691, Masaru was recognized for 29 years of service as a secretary to the Tsuksuhi no Dazai.  Twenty-nine years in place suggests to me that he would have likely been one of the longest serving members of the Tsukushi government center.  He would have known where all the bodies were buried—perhaps quite literally.  While the Dazai no Sochi was often a temporary appointment, sometimes just for a few years, they would have likely leaned on Masaru for his expertise.  This is just like how modern government appointees like ambassadors may come and go, including for political reasons, but they rely on permanent staff, including a lot of locals, to provide the institutional knowledge they need to do their jobs.  One can assume that if Masaru had been successful for 29 years he knew how things were supposed to work.  And so I hope that his superiors made sure to remember that when Secretary's day rolled around. Prince Kawachi didn't make it 29 years, but he made it five.  He might have gone even longer, but he died in office in 694 and was posthumously raised in rank for his service.  History is full of stories, but in real life, the stories don't always follow the expected narratives.  As much as we'd like to think otherwise, good, moral people do not always triumph and sometimes those who do awful things are never punished.  And some times stories come to abrupt ends.  Of course, looking back, it just is what it is.  Prince Kawachi's life becomes little more than a footnote.  And yet, what if he had gone on?  Would he have followed Tajihi no Shima to help become one of the grand ministers of the court?  Unfortunately, we will never know.  He could have been a rising star, but we just know about his passing. Five months after Prince Kawachi's untimely death, he was followed in the post by Prince Mino.  Prince Mino would continue in the position, it seems, through the end of the reign in 697—or at least nobody else was appointed until 700, when Isonokami no Maro—apparently the same one who had previously come out to inspect the fortifications during Prince Kawachi's tenure—was appointed.  Although he came into the position in the next reign, we'll still touch on him, as he was another notable figure at this time. Looking back at Prince Mino, however, we seem to run into a problem—there are too many Princes Mino in the record.  If you just use the English translations, you'll find several references to Prince Mino, but if you look at the original text, you'll see that there are at least three different spellings.  For one it means "Beautiful Field" and another is just "Three Fields".  A third "Mino" is spelled with characters that don't necessarily create obvious meaning, and may just be a phonetic spelling. It is possible that all of these Princes Mino are the same.  Spelling wasn't standard, and different characters could be used for the same name.  On the other hand, we have one set of characters being used to describe a Prince Mino who supported Ohoama during the Jinshin no Ran, while another, the "Three Fields" Prince Mino, describes one of the sons of Prince Kurikuma, who was with his father in Tsukushi when the Afumi court came calling.  Since travel wasn't necessarily an overnight endeavor—unless you were Ohoama, rushing through the mountains to the east—it would seem that the Prince Mino in Tsukushi is unlikely to be the same one as the Prince Mino who joined Ohoama's forces back in the Home Provinces. So let's make the assumption that Prince Mino—Prince "Three Fields" Mino—is one person and the others are separate.  What do we know about him? Well, he appears to have had experience with Tsukushi and the government out  there, since he would be the son of Prince Kurikuma, a former Tsukushi Dazai no Sochi.  We talked about Prince Kurikuma before, back in numerous episodes, but particularly in episodes 128 and Episode 144, as well as references in betweend. Prince Kurikuma was not only a significant factor in the outcome of the Jinshin no Ran, denying the Afumi court the resources of all of the defenders at the Tsukushi fortifications, he shows up in local legends in Tsukushi still today.  So he definitely seems to have had an impact on the region.  It also suggests that Prince Mino had connections in the area through his father. After his father's posting as Dazai no Sochi ended, Prince Mino appears to have returned with him to Asuka.  He is described as a key member in Ohoama's court.  He was one of the Princes mentioned in the audience at the Daigokuden in 681, when Ohoama instituted the commission to bring together the various court sources that we presume would eventually lead to the creation of the Chronicles—the Nihon Shoki and the Kojiki.  Later, he become a daibu, a high official, of the Household Bureau, responsible for the household of the sovereign, the sumera no mikoto.  This meant the upkeep of the palace, the kitchens, and the various servants waiting on the sovereign and his family.  This also means that he was likely close to the movers and shakers of the court. One of the projects under his purview appears to have been the laying out of a new palace and a new capital city.  In 682 he headed up the investigations at the place called Nihiki, determining that it would be a good location for what would eventually become Fujiwara-kyo—a project still underway in Queen Uno's reign.  He was also sent out to Shinano two years later to look for a site for a second capital.  It ended up not happening, but he spent a couple months and eventually came back with a map of the region.  It may be that the Fujiwara-kyo project took up a lot of Mino's time and effort, because we then don't hear from him for another decade, during which Ohama passed away and so much more happened.  Assuming he was still involved with the Fujiwara capital project, however, we see that in 691 there was a ceremony held for the tranquility of the new capital—a Chin-sai or, what we would today call a "Ji-chin-sai".  This is a "land pacification ceremony" done when breaking ground on a new building or other project.  So it looks like planning and land clearing had taken some 10 years, but it was finally ready to get started.  Later that same year we hear of them laying out the residences of high ranking nobles, like the Udaijin, Tajihi no Shima, and we also see the Queen inspecting the roads.  Then, a year later in 692, they were holding the land pacification ceremony for the new palace.  The queen would move into the new palace in the very last months of 694. But by that time, Prince Mino was on to his next assignment.  He had been appointed Tsukushi Dazai no Sochi earlier that year following the death of Prince Kawachi.  Not much more is said of Tsukushi for the next three years of the reign, but we do see the Hayato visiting Asuka, presumably with Prince Mino's assistance. We don't have a clear idea of when Prince Mino retired—it's certainly not in the Nihon Shoki—but we know that he did because he was succeeded in the role by none other than Isonokami no Maro, who would take up the position in 700.  Prince Mino, on the other hand, returned to the court, where he would eventually pass away in the year 708. And that was the last Dazai no Sochi who held the position during this reign, but I do want to talk about the one who came after Prince Mino just a bit—though more because this was an up-and-coming court noble whom we should be watching. Isonokami no Maro was born, by all accounts, in the year 640.  Despite his name he was actually born to a family that we know somewhat well from much earlier on: The Mononobe.  In fact, his father is apparently Mononobe no Muraji no Umaro, and he appears to be descended from the main line of the Mononobe family, which had declined ever since Mononobe no Moriya had been defeated and killed by Soga no Umako and others. And it seems that the Mononobe curse of being on the losing side in a contest for power hit Maro during the Jinshin no Ran, because we see him, at that time referenced as Mononobe no Muraji no Maro, along with two servants, or Toneri, serving Prince Ohotomo—aka Koubun Tennou—up to the very end.  In fact, when Ohotomo fled and the Afumi court deserted him, only Mononobe no Maro and the servants stayed with him when he eventually strangled himself. And one would think that would be it.   You were with the rival for the throne in the most contentious fight in recent memory.  You couldn't protect him and you were on the wrong side.  Sure, Ohoama was going to pardon you because he couldn't just rid himself of half of the court and hope things would still run smoothly—that would be a surefire recipe for disaster, and nobody wanted the government crippled like that.  However, you can't imagine that those on the losing side would be given any position of trust or authority. And yet, in 676, we see that Mononobe no Maro was sent to Silla.  And he wasn't just helping out: he was sent as the chief envoy of Ohoama's court.  That is quite the turnaround in four years, and we don't really know why, but it has been speculated that Ohoama was actually impressed.  While other members of the Afumi court fled and abandoned Ohotomo to his enemies, Maro and the two toneri with him did not, staying with Ohotomo until the bitter end, and likely conveying what had happened to the other side once it was all over.   That kind of loyalty was impressive, especially back then. It is also thought that Maro may have benefited from the fact that Enoi no Okimi, who was also descended from the Mononobe family, fought on the side of Ohoama.  This is a common scenario we see throughout Japanese history, where different members of the same family fight on different sides of a conflict, often meaning that no matter who wins the family can still claim to have been on the winning side.  When Okimi passed away in 676 he was posthumously recognized as the ujigami, or clan head, of the Mononobe, leading some to suspect that a bit of his shine may have rubbed off on Maro as well. In 684, when the various kabane were being rectified by Ohoama's court, the Mononobe no Muraji were included as Ason, or Asaomi.  There is some thought that around this time is when Maro changed his name to Isonokami, which is a name that was previously used by members of the Mononobe, including one of the brothers to Mononobe no Moriya.  We see him mentioned as Isonokami no Maro in 686, as one of those giving a eulogy for Ohoama: specifically he gives the eulogy on behalf of the Houkan, or Nori no Tsukasa, the Judicial officers.  He is mentioned right after Fuse no Miushi, whom we talked about last episode, who would go on to become a Dainagon and, later, Udaijin, or Minister of the Right. The first connection between Isonokami no Maro and Tsukushi was in 689, and we noted it earlier—he came out to inspect the fortifications as well as to hand out patents of rank to the court officials working out there on the edge of the realm.    He would return to Asuka in time to be a part of Uno no Sarara's official enthronement ceremonies.  There he is named Mononobe no Maro, and is in charge of the shields.  Given what we know of the role of the Mononobe as the early soldiers of the court, it makes sense that he would play this role, and that they would use the name Mononobe rather than Isonokami.  In the same way, the ritual was conducted by Fujiwara no Ohoshima, but he is recorded as Nakatomi no Ohoshima, probably because these were roles specifically for the Mononobe and Nakatomi, rather than for the Isonokami and the Fujiwara. This is another thing that can be quite frustrating when researching Japanese history—names can change at the drop of a hat, and people often had various ancestral names and titles that could be pulled out for various political or ceremonial reasons.  If you don't have the history or understand the nuance it can be easy to just think that it is a different person altogether.  And when you don't have much information, sometimes you have to ask yourself which is it? Maro would stay close to Queen Uno, even accompanying her to Ise shrine, and then, in the following reign, he would succeed Prince Mino as Dazai no Sochi in the year 700.  It isn't clear, however, if he left for the Dazaifu immediately, since in 701 he is noted as having been promoted from the office of Chunagon to Dainagon, and in that same year he went with Royal Prince Osakabe to pay respects at the house of the late Udaijin, Tajihi no Shima, who had just passed away.  He then left for Tsukushi in 702—or possibly headed back.  But in 703, he was once again back in Asuka, paying condolences on the death of the next Udaijin, Abe no Miushi—aka Fuse no Miushi, the same one whom Maro had pronounced a Eulogy with during the funeral ceremonies for Ohoama.  Isonokami no Maro would go on to take the mantle of Udaijin, and then eventually Sadaijin as well.  He would be raised up to the second rank, along with the famous Fujiwara no Fubito, who took the vacated position of Udaijin.  This meant that technically Maro was the senior of the two, though many people think that Fujiwara no Fubito held most of the actual power.  Regardless of that, Isonokami no Maro nonetheless would go on to become the highest ranking court noble before his eventual death in 717.  At that point he was 78 years old, by the reckoning of the day, and he had seen multiple sovereigns, several bloody conflicts, and the creation of two permanent capitals—Fujiwara kyo and Heijo kyo, in modern Nara.  He went from being a supporter in the Afumi court, on the wrong side of the Jinshin no Ran to become the highest ranking court noble in the land.  He would be granted the head of the Mononobe family and would continue to prosper as Isonokami.  It was truly a remarkable career over an incredible span of time. And there you have it.  A look at some of those that were sent out to the Dazaifu in Tsukushi.  In later years, the post of Dazai no Sochi would be seen more as a burden than a blessing, but at this point it was still a lucrative and powerful position.  Several of those involved in the Dazaifu or who held the position as Dazai no Sochi would go on to even more powerful positions back in Asuka.  Whilst this posting did move you further away from the politics—perhaps not always a bad thing—it also put you atop a structure where one had considerable power, authority, and autonomy, at least at this point. Next episode we'll get back to the court in Asuka and take a look at a little more of what is going on.  Before I end this, however, a quick administrative note about the podcast.  This creation is a labor of love.  It was started largely as a way to get myself to regularly dive into the Chronicles and really see what was going on.  In particular, I was excited about the Asuka period, because I don't think we really have enough of a sense of what life was like and what was going on back then.  It was clearly a very dynamic time, and yet we tend to see it through the lens of later Nara and Heian court culture, which was still very much evolving.  The stories that I *didn't* know about were what drew me to this project, and I hope that we've all learned a bit more as the project has continued. And we are reaching the end of the area that is covered by the main Chronicles, the Kojiki, the Nihon Shoki, and the Sendai Kuji Hongi, which have been our main guides through this period.  But that doesn't mean we are bringing things to a close. Next we have the Shoku Nihongi and many other grecords, and I am going to keep up with the project and the schedule as best I can.  In fact, it looks like I may be able to devote even more time to it in the near future as some drastic life changes are coming for me, such that I will no longer be working a 9-to-5 job while also trying to get this podcast out like clockwork twice a month—not to mention my other passion, teaching traditional Japanese martial arts here in the DC region at a local not-for-profit dojo.  This is happening as we are also in the process of building a house, traveling, and more.  But it does mean that we are going to be looking into alternative sources of funding beyond just donations.  We are eternally grateful to everyone who has donated, but I may end up doing something that I've been putting off for a while: allowing advertisements.  I want to do this so that we can continue to offer this for podcast for free, but hosting, staying up to date on sources, etc. does cost money.  I'm not looking to make a huge profit, but if we can at least get the podcast paying for itself, that would be a good start. Before I do that I'll look to find a way that we can get subscribers on Patreon and elsewhere ad-free copy.  I just need to figure that out, but once I do, I'll let you all know. So there you have it.  We aren't going to stop the podcast, but we may be adding a bit more to it in the future.  I hope, though, that we can do more beyond the historical chronicles.  For instance, did you know that we have an English translation of a 17th century cookbook up on our website, SengokuDaimyo.com?  I would love to redact those recipes and maybe provide some cooking videos for anyone who would want to try them.  A shoutout to Max Miller of Tasting History, who reached out to us about using a couple of our translations for his episodes on historical Japanese cooking – Max is a great guy and his series and cookbook are well worth following.  But there's a lot more to explore: one of my favorites so far that we've tried is "keiran", or "eggs": doughy balls filled with brown sugar and cooked in a miso based soup.  I don't know if there is anything like that still being served in Japan, but it's a strange and pleasant recipe and I would love to do that again and record it for everyone to try. All of this is in the works, and nothing will change immediately, but I wanted to keep you all in the loop.  Thank you so much for listening, I can't tell you how much it means. And of course, as always, 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.

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El Club Deportivo ILUNION, el equipo del Grupo Social ONCE, es el nuevo campeón de la SuperLiga Fundación ONCE de baloncesto en silla de ruedas. El conjunto madrileño cierra una excepcional temporada tras ganar también la Copa de Europa y la Supercopa de España.Escuchar audio

A big part of the court are the actual court nobles, so this episode we are taking a look at some of the ones mentioned in the Chronicles for this reign. For more, check out https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-150 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 150: Nobles of Jitou Tennou's Court   Maro donned his light blue robes and made his way to the court.  As he arrived, the sun was just peaking over the horizon, and as it bathed the court in the golden morning light the dark shadows were dispelled, leaving in their wake a colorful scene, as various court officials headed this way and that, gathering in their offices to pick up on the work that they had left unfinished the day before. As an ohotoneri, Maro was often sent to and fro between the offices of the different departments. As such, he was able to see how they worked, and he wondered to himself which department would have the best opportunity for advancement.  His family had connections over at the Department of Prisons, and it was definitely a place he could make a name for himself, especially if he attached himself to one of the newly minted magistrates.  On the other hand, the Jingikan, the Ministry for Kami Matters, had some of the most important and sought after positions.  After all, no matter what the secular administration did, when there was no rain for the fields, it was the kami to whom the court turned.  And the members of the Jingikan who helped make those ceremonies happen were known to be well rewarded for their troubles. Perhaps he would be better off taking a more modest position, such as with the Jibu-sho, the Department of Civil Administration.  It was mostly focused on the maintenance and execution of the bureaucracy, and wasn't necessarily a place to seek the limelight, but perhaps that also offered some opportunity.  Do well in one position, and who knows what that could open up to you in the long run?  Maybe one day Maro could make it up to become a Nagon, a Counsellor, or even one of the Daijin, the great ministers at the very head of the council of state.Maro almost laughed at the thought, but he didn't put it aside entirely.  After all, as impossible as it might seem now, the world was still changing, and who knew what opportunities might be waiting just around the corner?   This episode continues our look at the reign of Uno no Sarara, aka Jitou Tennou.  I would note that we have now reached the last chapter of the Nihon Shoki, which ends with the end of Uno no Sarara's reign in 697.  In this chapter, we have not quite 11 years to cover, and we've already talked about the first three of those years, which featured succession issues and a long mourning time for Uno's husband Ohoama, aka Temmu Tennou, culminating in the sudden death of her only son, the Crown Prince and heir apparent, Prince Kusakabe, in 689.  We also went over what was happening on the continent, with powerful women like Uno no Sarara either on or behind the throne in Silla and the Tang dynasty.  To quickly recap the succession issues: When Kusakabe died, tthat left the throne in a somewhat tenuous position.  There were two other male heirs that would seem to have a claim on the throne as well.  The first was Prince Takechi, who was technically Ohoama's eldest son, but the Chroniclers claim that his late mother was not sufficiently royal for him to have a serious claim.  Then there was Prince Karu, the only known son of the late Crown Prince Kusakabe, and had been born 6 years earlier, in 683, to the Crown Prince and his wife, Princess Abe.  Princess Abe was a daughter of Naka no Oe, and a half-sister to Uno no Sarara.  She was actually a year older than Kusakabe, and would continue to look after the young Prince Karu.  So, Prince Karu was only about 7 years old when his father passed away: much too young to be taking the throne, let alone a firm hand in the politics of the time.  And given the mortality statistics of the time, there is so much that could happen to him before he reached the age of majority.  And remember, there were already some questions about legitimacy, and we already discussed the fact that about 30 nobles had gathered in support of Prince Ohotsu right after Ohoama's death.  Uno no Sarara had that whole issue quashed and Prince Ohotsu had died, but it was nonetheless a stark reminder that things could change quickly. So at this point in Uno no Sarara's reign, there is a great deal of uncertainty afoot, and there are quite a few individuals named in the Chronicles who stand to benefit from sticking their fingers into politics in one way or another.  This episode, we're going to look at some of those individuals, their roles in the court, and the effect they had on Yamato.  Some of those people named are particularly interesting in that they were involved in the conspiracy with Prince Ohotsu, and would continue to be highly influential in the government.  For example, Iki no Hakatoko, Nakatomi no Omimaro, and Kose no Tayasu, and Yakuchi no Wotokashi are all name-dropped, which we'll get into more later.  It feels significant, however, that there were some 30 nobles all told, and beyond these four and the apparent ringleaders, we don't learn anyone else's names.   The importance of prominent individuals in the court has been a constant theme in the Chronicles and in this podcast, so getting to know the court is definitely important. Moreover, during this time period as we get more and more written sources from which to work from we will see more and more information on individuals.  Some of that will come from the Nihon Shoki and the records that come after—the Shoku Nihongi.  Others, however, are from sources like the Man'yoshu, where bits of biographical data are found about the authors that they mention.  There are also family diaries and later genealogies.  Some of these sources are a bit more trusted than others, especially when they were compiled centuries later and we don't exactly know what sources they, themselves, were working on.  Still, even if it isn't 100% accurate, it does give us a picture of what was going on beyond just the royal family. I think it is also helpful to understand some of the overall court dynamics.  If you are familiar with the Heian period, especially around the time of things like the Tale of Genji, you are probably well acquainted with the Fujiwara family—I'll probably need to do an entire episode just on them at some point.  Essentially, there would come a time where almost the entire court was made up either of royals or of members of the Fujiwara clan, or uji.  In fact, even that distinction wasn't really accurate as the Fujiwara family had so intermarried with the Royal family that every sovereign—every Tennou and even most of their consorts—were directly related to members of the Fujiwara.  Not only that, but members of the Fujiwara family held the position of regent—whether the sovereign was of age or not—and effectively ruled the country, with the Tennou being largely relegated to a mouthpiece with ceremonial duties.  It would get so bad that we would see the splitting of the Fujiwara uji into smaller households, and the political fights were often between members of the different households of the same family.  There is a reason that a good portion of the Heian period is sometimes called the Fujiwara period. However, now during the late Asuka period, we see something a little different.  The marriage politics of the Soga had been violently suppressed about a half century earlier, and a lot of different names flourished in the Yamato court, as youmay have noticed any time I've rattled off a bunch of names and your eyes started crossing because of it.  But that's the reality we see: there were a lot of different families, and individuals, all jockeying for influence.  And they were in a period of disruption, where lots of change was happening.  That change meant there was also a lot of potential. And I hope you don't mind if I take a quick time-out here, but so often we read history and we forget to learn lessons from it, and one overarching lesson is:  if you are a part of an organization—a company, a club, government, school, or anything like that—one thing you are going to have to deal with is change.  It comes in many forms and happens whether or not you personally agree with it. It can be destructive and it can be frightening, because we often don't know what is on the other side of it, but it also presents opportunities.  After all, if you don't know what comes next it probably means other people don't, either.  And if you can be the one to provide direction you can have a huge influence on what comes next.  And change has been a constant theme in this period of Yamato history, in so many ways.  Take the reorganization of the government as one example: they had introduced these 8 departments, which had names and were set up in various ways, but it wasn't like you had experienced people to run them as they had been on the continent.  So you had names and the forms of things, but there were a lot of people figuring out just how to actually put this new structure into practice, and leverage them to do what they were supposed to do.  In the process, there were a lot of opportunities to innovate and figure out how to do it within the cultural milieu of the archipelago.  So all of these individuals, from these various families, all had opportunities staring them in the face.  They just had to figure out how to make the best of it. Now, don't get me wrong:  Those with the money, the connections, and the influence still had a leg up, and this was still a hierarchical society, where your family dictated, to some extent, your position in society.  The introduction of individual court rank, as opposed to just the kabane that ranked uji, was pushing against that, and had already caused a reformation that flattened a lot of the previous kabane into just eight distinctions, but those distinctions still existed.  Even had they not, simple matters of inherited wealth and the value of goods produced in a family's home territory would still have provided tremendous advantages.  But there isn't an indication of the kind of large-scale consolidation of resources that we will see in later periods, such as the Fujiwara example that we were just discussing.  Oh, sure, we aren't going to see a farmer suddenly make it big at court in some kind of rags-to-riches story, but at the upper end of society we still have a lot of apparent diversity. And so, let's get to know some of these individuals that the Chronicles tell us about.  Before we do that, though, let's recap a little bit about how the court worked. Every member of the court was effectively employed by the State.  They had an official job with duties they were supposed to oversee.  In the case of lower level functionaries, they were likely expected to actually do most of the work, while at the top of the hierarchy you had nobles who were more likely decision-makers, who would approve or disapprove of the work and direct strategic resources. Those working in the court had official uniforms—the round-necked garments of the continent.  What would be called a "caftan" farther west.  These were based on the foreign garments popular in the Tang court and elsewhere. The color and pattern of official clothing appears to be something that goes back to early in this new continental style government, and we see suggestions of color schemes from a relatively early age.  However, in 690 we see the clearest such outline of just what everyone was wearing. As a reminder, the court rank system of the day was made up of a Princely and a Commoner system.  Princely ranks originally included two ranks of the Myo class, and four of the Jou class, each rank divided into either "Great" or "Broad", for twelve Princely ranks, though honestly we only ever really see the four Jou class of ranks in use. Below that were the ranks for the common nobles—those with family names who did not have any kind of royal claim.    For them there were six classes of rank—Shou, Jiki, Gon, Mu, Tsui, and Shin, in that order.  Each class was made up of four ranks, which were further divided into upper and broad categories, creating 48 total ranks. Your rank determined your precedence at court—where you were sat, what jobs you were allowed to take on and, most importantly, the amount of money that you could expect to receive as part of a stipend.  Naka no Oe had previously consolidated the land-holdings and asserted claim over all of it.  The taxes from the households on the land went to the government to pay the stipends of the nobles in the court, who were, ostensibly, employees of that same government.  Your rank determined what you were owed, though this could also be augmented by various edicts. So there you go: rank in the court was tied to many of the things that the elites wanted, from wealth to status and access to various opportunities. The color of official clothing followed the rank system.  So Princes of the first two ranks of the Jou class were given robes of dark purple, and the third and four ranks were given robes of bright purple, which they shared with highest class of rank of the common nobles, the Shou rank class. Below that, nobles of the Jiki class would wear robes of dark red, and those of Gon would wear dark green.  The Mu rank class, the next down, was Light Green, and then Tsui was Deep Blue and Shin was Light blue. So in order you would see robes of Dark Purple, Bright Purple, Dark Red, Dark Green, Light Green, Deep Blue, and Light Blue.  The color gave you a certain indication of where the person sat in the overall hierarchy of the court, and provided you clues as to how you should address them, who would give deference, etc.  In later centuries, we are even told that deference was given in meetings, which is to say that once a person of higher rank provided input on a topic, nobody of lower rank was able to contradict them for fear of the consequences.  So it also told you who got the last word. This then was the world that the nobles of the court inhabited.  As we've seen in previous episodes it wasn't just bureaucratic work, but also banquets, archery contests, and Buddhist congregations and sutra readings.  There were rituals, dances, and diplomatic embassies—not to mention all of the ceremonies around the death or ascension of the sovereign.  In this world, one's reputation was everything.  You wanted to be seen as good at your job, but also, just like today, people were more likely to promote and support those they knew, and so it helped to have friends.  However, there were also a limited number of top spots, and so every promotion would have likewise meant plenty of disappointed nobles who didn't get the job.  But that is enough background.  Let's take a look at some of the nobles themselves, starting with the four from the Prince Ohotsu conspiracy.   The first name in the list is perhaps the least interesting.  His name is Yakuchi no Wotokashi.  Although he was the highest ranking of the four, he is also the least mentioned in the Chronicles and elsewhere, and we know very little about him.  So we'll talk about him later on, for completeness, but for now it may be best to skip him until we have a better handle on others in the court. In contrast, we know a bit more about his co-conspirators.  In fact, we've already talked about one of them at length:  Iki no Hakatoko.  We first heard about Iki no Hakatoko when talking about the Tang dynasty, and discussed him at length in Episode 123.  He was one of the members of the embassy to the Tang dynasty back in the early 660s that got delayed on account of Tang Gaozong initiating the war against Yamato's ally Baekje.  The fact that the Nihon Shoki directly pulls from Hakatoko's work, known to us, today, as the Iki no Hakatoko Sho, makes it one of the few early named written works that we know about.  Unfortunately, it is no longer extant except for what is preserved in the Chronicles, but it is still incredible that we have essentially an eyewitness account of what happened.  He would later be one of the escort envoys for one of the Tang embassies during the reign of Naka no Oe.  That he was then embroiled in the conspiracy with Prince Ohotsu would seem to be at odds with his standing, and yet after his pardon he eventually got back into the court's good graces.  In 695, about 9 years after the incident, he was assigned as an assistant envoy to Silla.  By that point he was of Mudaini rank, which was only about 35th in the overall scheme of things.  Later on we know he would work on the famous Taiho code, which was published in 701, and enacted a couple of years later.  It was here that he worked with the famous Fujiwara no Fubito—about whom we will discuss more, later—and although he would pass away in 703, this may be how his own writings came to find their way into the Chronicles, since Fubito is said to have had a large influence on them—as he had on many of the court's projects. Overall, Iki no Hakatoko may not have been the one in charge, but we see in his life an incredible career, much of it spent on multiple voyages across the ocean, whether on an embassy or as an escort.  He likely was highly proficient in the language of the Tang court—what we typically refer to, broadly, as Middle Chinese.  He also had direct experience with the Tang court and system, and so it makes sense that he was one of those helping to build an administrative state based on that system. If we were to imagine Hakatoko in the court of the day, at least in 695, he would have likely had light green colored robes, indicating that he was of the "Mu" class of ranks.  He would have worn the black gauze cap of the court and worn white hakama, or trousers, underneath.  His long, continental style, round-necked robes—likely relatively slim, with overly long, but narrow, sleeves—would have been tied closed in the front with a braided silk cord.  He likely worn black leather boots, covered in a light lacquer to protect them from the elements, with cloth insoles and perhaps a hint of brocade along the top.  He likely kept with him a ruler, and perhaps a few slips of paper or even just wood on which to take occasional notes.  A mid-level functionary of the court. We can compare and contrast Hakatoko to two other co-conspirators:  Nakatomi no Omimaro and Kose no Tayasu. We are given neither Omimaro's rank nor Tayasu's at this time.  It is interesting that they listed after Hakatoko, who is actually listed as having "Lower Shousen" rank—an older rank that was no longer in use at this point in time.  Also, both Nakatomi and Kose were Ason level families while Iki no Hakatoko is listed as being merely "Muraji".  So it seems that the Chroniclers were probably pulling from what they could find elsewhere, although where they found that Wotokashi had Jikikwoshi rank I have no idea, as we don't have any other record for him.  And it is possible that deference to Wotokashi and Hakatoko are as much a nod to their age as anything else, though probably not by much. Of four co-conspirators mentioned here—and I'm leaving out the two who were exiled or banished, as they were clearly not hanging around the court later—Nakatomi no Omimaro and Kose no Tayasu were probably from the most established families.  Indeed, we see both of their names show up multiple times in the record, giving us a better idea of who they might have been. Of the two, the name Nakatomi probably is more likely to ring a bell, as that as the surname of the famous Nakatomi no Kamatari—as well as the later Nakatomi no Kane.   Nakatomi no Kamatari was the head of court ritual when he and Naka no Oe kicked things off with the Isshi Incident and the Taika reforms, at which point he became the "Inner Prime Minister", or Naidaijin. Much of what we know of Omimaro comes from outside of the Chronicles themselves.  For instance, we are told that he was the son of Nakatomi no Kunitari, a cousin to the famous Kamatari, at least according to the 10th century Engi Shiki.  However, we have no other records of Kunitari, and so there is more than a little doubt cast as to whether or not that was actually the case.  Similarly, we are told that Omimaro married one of Kamatari's daughters, and was eventually adopted by Kamatari. Once again, the evidence for this is pretty thin, and it is unclear to me just how adoption worked at this point.  Certainly in later periods, adoption was often a way to ensure that a family had a male heir to ensure the family's continuity, and marrying someone's daughter and being adopted into the family is an age old tradition in the archipelago and Japan more generally.  At the same time, give some thought to what we know about this period: male primogeniture was not exactly the norm, although Confucian values had definitely made inroads into court.   The family headship often went to the eldest—or most prominent—family member.  This wasn't necessarily a son and often was a brother, a nephew, or even a cousin.  We have a few famous Nakatomi at this point in time, and all I can say for certain is that they were part of the same family.  Later traditions would make things a bit more clear. Whatever his parentage, our first encounter with Omimaro appears to be in the Ohotsu conspiracy, when he was arrested and then pardoned.  He shows up again in the record just three years later, along with Kose no Tayasu, as both were made judges, along with Fujiwara no Fubito—Nakatomi no Kamatari's biological son and eventual heir. In fact, there were nine judges, or magistrates, made that year, and they are listed in rank order.  The first is Prince Takeda, said to be a great-grandson of Nunakura, aka Bidatsu Tennou.  He was Joukwoshi rank, meaning he wore bright purple court robes, sitting in the lower half of the princely ranks.  He had been quite prolific ever since 681, when he was one of the Princes called to help bring together the Chronicles.  After being made a judge, he would continue in that position, it seems, and by 708 he would become the head of the Ministry of Prisons. After him we have Haji no Nemaro, in the dark red robes of the Jiki rank class.  Though someone of rank, less is known about Nemaro.  His father is said to be Haji no Mi, who was part of the forces that set out to Yamada-dera to capture—and likely kill—Soga no Kurayamadera.  Haji no Nemaro's son is Haji no Oi, who was sent to the Tang court but returned in 684, along with several repatriated soldiers.  Oi would assist with the Taihou code, but little more is said about him or his father. Other judges were Ohoyake no Maro, Fujiwara no Fubito—also of the Jiki class rank. Maro would go on to take a job as a jusenshi, responsible for minting coins, and Fubito would go on to reach the highest levels of government. Then there was Tahema no Sakurawi, Hodzumi no Yamamori, Nakatomi no Omimaro, Kose no Tayasu, and Ohomiwa no Yasumaro.  They were all Mudaishi rank at this point, wearing dark green.  Sakurai would go on to become the governor of Ise in 705, and then the governor of Musashi in 708.  Hodzumi no Yamamori we don't have as much information on, other than that he kept climbing the ranks, by 704 he had made Junior 5th rank, lower grade in the system that replaced the cap-ranks, and by 712 he made it to the senior fifth rank, lower grade. Ohomiwa no Yasumaro, on the other hand, would make it to the Senior 5th rank, lower grade by 707, and the upper grade by 708, when he was made the Dayu—the high minister in charge—of Settsu.  He would eventually make it into the Junior Fourth rank, upper grade, as the Minister of the Military Department, or Hyobu-sho. So this gives you an idea of the people with whom Nakatomi no Omimaro and Kose no Tayasu were rubbing elbows.  That they were made judges, responsible for justice, seems to say something as that would seem to be a powerful position.  At the same time, they are both lower ranked than the much younger Fujiwara no Fubito—but once again, he was the direct son of Nakatomi no Kamatari.  He also seems to have avoided any unpleasantness from the Jinshin no Ran as he was only 14 at the time, and though it does seem that the Nakatomi were generally knocked down a peg or two in court—thanks in large part  to the fact that Nakatomi no Kane had been one of the leaders of the Afumi court.  That and the whole thing with Prince Ohotsu may be why Omimaro was not exactly in the top ranks, but his appointments weren't nothing, either.  By 693, Omimaro would be granted the rank of Jikikwoshi, the lower fourth rank of the Jiki class.  In that entry he is recorded as Fujiwara no Omimaro.  I believe we discussed this a few episodes back, but the Fujiwara name was still new.  It had been granted to Nakatomi no Kamatari on his deathbed—or possibly even posthumously—by Naka no Oe, and to his family.  So technically that would seem to extend to the entire Nakatomi family.  And with Nakatomi no Kane having been one of the main figures on the losing side of the Jinshin no Ran, it was no doubt a savvy political move for Nakatomi courtiers to lean into the Fujiwara name, and they seem to have done just that.  It wouldn't be until later, in the reign just following this, that a new decree would straighten everything out, such that only the actual descendants of Fujiwara no Kamatari, such as Fujiwara no Fubito, would be allowed to use the Fujiwara name. Throughout this, I have focused mostly on Omimaro, but Kose no Tayasu was in the mix as well.  He, too, was made a judge and in 693 he would also be awarded the same Jikikwoshi rank.  In addition, in 689, he was made a "commissioner of good words", along with the Royal Prince Shiki and others.  This seems to be a singular position, and Aston suggests that it was their job to figure out the kind of auspicious language that should be used in the court.  What kind of language should be used by the sovereign and the courtiers in drawing up official edicts.  I imagine that they were figuring out the form to give to formal court documents as well as the kinds of titles and honorifics to use for the sovereign and the state more generally.  Of course, that is just an assumption based on Aston's understanding of what is, ultimately, a single line.  Still, it is clear that Tayasu was helping to make things happen. Tayasu would eventually go on to become the Minister of the Department of Ceremonies, the Shikibu-sho, and would later serve as a secretary to the Viceroy in Tsukushi—the Dazai Daini.  He would pass away in 710, one year before Omimaro. Before leaving Tayasu behind completely, I would like to point out his family name:  Kose.  The Kose family were one of the families granted the kabane of Ason, or Asaomi.  They had previously been known as the Kose no Omi, and had a long history in the court, claiming descent from the famous Takeuchi no Sukune, legendarily known as the first Oho-omi of Yamato.  Kose no Tokuda had been a supporter of Soga no Iruka, but after the Isshi Incident he supported Naka no Oe and eventually replace Abe no Uchimaro as Sadaijin—Minister of the Left.  Another Kose, Kose no Hito, would also rise in the government, becoming one of two Goshi-daibu made when Prince Ohotomo was appointed Dajodaijin.  The other was Ki no Ushi.  They were both in attendance and counted among the six who swore to protect and support Ohotomo, along with Nakatomi no Kane and others.  So they, too, found themselves on the wrong side of the Jinshin no Ran. In this case, however, it is unclear how much Tayasu was impacted by that.  He may have been the son of Kose no Shitano, brother to Kose no Hito, but the Kose were prolific in the court, with many people of the name.  The family would continue going through the Heian period.  Their fortunes ebbed and flowed, as did so many families, but they would eventually find themselves as Hatamoto to the Tokugawa shogun, so they never actually disappeared. Finally, let's talk about Yakuchi no Wotokashi.  As I mentioned earlier, he is actually one of the first names mentioned in the list of co-conspirators with Prince Ohotsu, suggesting that he outranked others in the group.  Indeed, he is noted as being of Jikikwoshi rank—fourth lower Jiki rank.  The bottom of the Jiki class, but that was still the third class from the top.  However, despite this, very little is actually said about him.  In fact, this is the only instance I could find of the name Yakuchi in the Nihon Shoki, at least in that spelling—there is also a Yakuchi no Uneme, but it is spelled differently and is probably not related.  It is also the only evidence of the name Wotokashi.  That means we don't even see him in the list of names being granted Ason in the first place. It is quite possible that Yakuchi was a name he took later and that he was from another family.  Indeed, there are a couple of traditions around Wotokashi that suggest he was the founder of the Yakuchi family in Shinano.  Indeed, there is a Yakuchi family that comes out of Shinano, near Adzumino.  And Shinano was one of the places that Ohoama had sent people to examine as another site for an alternative capital, and Prince Mino and others had gone to check it out.  So maybe Wotokashi headed out there—or his descendants, anyway—and decided to try and make a go of it.  Proponents of this theory also connect Wotokashi to a line descended from the Soga family, which would certainly explain his prominence.  There are others, however, who claim that the Yakuchi family out of Shinano is actually descended from the Otomo, suggesting that the similarities in the name are just coincidental, which is also possible.  Ultimately, our sources fail us here, and so we just have speculation.  It is possible that even with the pardon, Wotokashi was just never able to regain the trust of the sovereign or his position in court, and so whether he took a hike for the hinterlands or just faded from the picture it is hard to say. With that, let's take a look at just two more courtiers, and what kinds of lives and careers they had at court, at least from what we can see.  These two we've also mentioned in passing:  Fuse no Miushi—whom Aston transliterates as Miaruji—and Ohotomo no Miyuki. Fuse no Miushi and Ohotomo no Miyuki were both mentioned as performing eulogies for Ohoama, though there is more to them than just that.  We'll start with Fuse no Miushi, who is said to have been the son of none other than the Taika era Sadaijin, or Minister of the Left, Abe no Uchimaro.  You may recall that Abe no Uchimaro was the Sadaijin under Karu no Ohokimi, aka Koutoku Tennou, along with the Udaijin, Soga no Kurayamadera.  They were both supporters of Naka no Oe, though much of the Chronicles focus appeared to be more on Kurayamadera than on Uchimaro. We don't know when Miushi was born, nor when he received the name "Fuse", the name by which he is known when we first meet him in the Chronicles.  That family name only shows up two other times in the Chronicles.  Based on other sources, it seems that the Abe family was divided at some point into the Fuse and the Hikida, likely because it became too large and they needed to distinguish the different parts of the family.  It is said that Fuse no Miushi served as a retainer to Ohoama during the Jinshin no Ran.  That, along with his family connections, helped secure him a good place in the government.  By 686, we see him pronouncing the eulogy for Ohoama's funeral on behalf of the Dajokan, the Counil of State.  He was already Jikidaishi, one rank above the standard Jikikwoshi, but still clothed in the same dark red robes.  In 687, he is again pronouncing the eulogy, but this time we are told that his a Nagon, or councilor, a rather prestigious posting that would later get broken up into three different levels:  Dainagon, Chunagon, and Shonagon.  For my Heian fans out there, that last is the same Shonagon as in the name of the famous poet, author, diary-keeper, and all around queen of snark, Sei Shonagon.  By 688, pronouncing the Eulogy seems to have become an annual event for Miushi, only this time he teamed up with Ohotomo no Miyuki.  The two of them seem to have had similar careers, and would, for a time, come up together through the ranks. Ohotomo no Miyuki is said to have been born in 646, though that isn't recorded in the Nihon Shoki and comes from other sources.  The Ohotomo family goes back quite a ways, and we are told that his father was Ohotomo no Nagatoko, who served as Minister of the Right under Naka no Oe.  However, in 672, the Ohotomo, including Miyuki, sided with Ohoama in the Jinshin no ran.  In 675 he was made Tayu while Prince Kurikuma was made Director of Military Affairs.  He then drops out of the narrative until 688, when he is pronouncing the eulogy with Fuse no Miushi. Miushi would go on, two years later, to present the formal congratulations from the court to the Queen upon her ascencion to the throne, and then the following year, 691, both Miushi and Miyuki were granted the rank of Jikidaiichi, the highest rank in the Jiki class, along with 80 households to support them and their families.  This brought both of their stipends up to roughly 300 households each.  Then, in 694, they were both raised in rank again, this time to Shoukwoushi.  Only one rank up, yet they went from the top of the Jiki class to the bottom of the Shou class.  They would have gotten new robes of Bright Purple to indicate their new status, and they each had their stipends increased by the taxes of 200 households each.  At the same time, they were also acknowledged as senior members of their houses.  That means that Miushi was considered the head of the Fuse branch of the Abe family and Miyuki was now acknowledged as the head of the entire Ohotomo family. Two years after that, in 696, they were each given 80 retainers to support them.  Fuse no Miushi is actually mentioned at that time as Abe no Miushi.  That same year, we again see Fujiwara no Fubito show up, but with only 50 retainers.  Fubito would eventually rise to the top of the court food chain, but at this point, it was still in the hands of courtiers like Fuse no Abe no Miushi and Ohotomo no Miyuki. Fuse no Miushi would go on to have an incredible career.  He would become Dainagon and eventually he would become the Udaijin, the Minister of the Right, one of the highest positions anyone could hope to achieve at court. Ohotomo no Miyuki would not make it quite so far.  Like Miushi, he made it to Dainagon, but he died in the first month of 701, just 55 years old.  He had made it to the third rank, and he was posthumously granted the title of Udaijin—the position was vacant at the time—and granted second rank.  His colleague, Abe no Miushi, would go on to take the position only four months later and serve for a couple of years before passing away himself. These two would have worked closely together throughout their careers, and the fact that they were raised in rank and position on similar timelines suggests to me that they ran together in very close circles.  They would have been working in similar positions, at the same levels of the government.  They would have been going to the same parties and partaking in the same banquets and entertainments.   They were no doubt rivals, in a sense, but also equals.  Both families would go on, even as the Fujiwara clan came to dominate the politics of the era, the Ohotomo and Abe would continue to hold power in the court during the Nara period, though eventually it would decline.  The Ohotomo would eventually become just the Tomo, to avoid conflicting with the name of a slater sovereign, and the main house would eventually decline, though branch families would continue to claim descent from the Ohotomo into to the Edo period. The Abe would continue, similarly pushing against the Fujiwara.  The most famous Abe was probably Abe no Seimei, who became known for his skills as an Onmyouji, or master of Yin-yang divination and magic.  The Tsuchimikado branch of the Abe family would continue that tradition, and it would come to largely define the main branch of the family. I hope that gives a bit of an idea of what was going on in the court and the kinds of careers that people were looking at and what was happening.  We cannot get into every single person, but I'm going to try and note some of the more prominent courtiers and what they were doing.  It isn't always clear from the Chronicles what was going on between the various houses, but one can largely assume that the court was highly political.  Different factions were vying for power and position.  Sitting atop all of it, Uno no Sarara would have to perform her own kind of balancing act, doling out rewards and punishments as necessary, and ensuring to place the right people in positions of power and authority.  On the one hand, that ambition was a motivating factor, keeping the people of the court focused on the tasks at hand and ensuring that the court was running smoothly.  On the other hand, too much power in the hands of any one individual could cause them to get ideas that they should have even more.  The main bulwark against this was everyone else in the system—the checks and balances were literally the other court nobles, who weren't going to just let someone  take power unless there was something in it for them as well.  More on that as we watch this reign unfold. But for now, thank you so much for listening and downloading the podcast.  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.

Una caída de una silla puede cambiar la historia de un país. O un vestido blanco en uno de los objetos más famosos de Hollywood. Entre fados portugueses y salas de cine neoyorquinas, 'La Cultureta' de Carlos Alsina viaja desde el Fuerte de Santo Antonio da Barra —el refugio veraniego de Antonio de Oliveira Salazar— hasta el centenario de Marilyn Monroe. ¿Qué relación tiene todo esto con 'La empresa de sillas', la serie que ha visto Nacho Vigalondo? El programa también recupera la historia detrás de la escena más célebre de 'La tentación vive arriba': las catorce tomas necesarias para levantar la falda de Marilyn sobre una rejilla del metro, la furia de Joe DiMaggio durante el rodaje y el destino posterior del icónico vestido blanco subastado décadas después por millones de dólares. Rubén Amón, Rosa Belmonte, Guillermo Altares, Sergio del Molino y Nacho Vigalondo enlazan así dictaduras, monstruos cinematográficos y la melancolía de una actriz que confesó sentirse desgraciada la mayor parte del tiempo.

Send us Fan MailFor a debut novel, Brown Girl, Brownstones by Paule Marshall sure is a tour de force. Our protagonist, Selina Boyce is caught between her hopeless dreamer father, Deighton, and resilient yet hard-edged mother, Silla, as she navigates adolescence. With the fraught tension between her parents as a backdrop, Selina struggles with feeling unlovable, the complicated feelings of hating and admiring her mother and how best to carve out a space for herself.  In this episode, we learn that sadly…Hawa did not finish this book BUT she promises to finish it in the indeterminate future. We'll hold her to it. Heather lets us know her feelings about Deighton (spoiler: he's worthless). And Heather and Hannah get sucked into the possible local connections to the cult Marshall took inspiration from for the novel. Be on the look out for that deep dive! These Books Made Me is a podcast about the literary heroines who shaped us and is a product of the Prince George's County Memorial Library System podcast network. Stay in touch with us via #TheseBooksMadeMe on socials, follow us on Instagram @TheseBooksMadeMe or reach out by email at TheseBooksMadeMe@pgcmls.info. For recommended readalikes and deep dives into topics related to each episode, visit our blog at https://pgcmls.medium.com/.

Una caída de una silla puede cambiar la historia de un país. O un vestido blanco en uno de los objetos más famosos de Hollywood. Entre fados portugueses y salas de cine neoyorquinas, 'La Cultureta' de Carlos Alsina viaja desde el Fuerte de Santo Antonio da Barra —el refugio veraniego de Antonio de Oliveira Salazar— hasta el centenario de Marilyn Monroe. ¿Qué relación tiene todo esto con 'La empresa de sillas', la serie que ha visto Nacho Vigalondo? El programa también recupera la historia detrás de la escena más célebre de 'La tentación vive arriba': las catorce tomas necesarias para levantar la falda de Marilyn sobre una rejilla del metro, la furia de Joe DiMaggio durante el rodaje y el destino posterior del icónico vestido blanco subastado décadas después por millones de dólares. Rubén Amón, Rosa Belmonte, Guillermo Altares, Sergio del Molino y Nacho Vigalondo enlazan así dictaduras, monstruos cinematográficos y la melancolía de una actriz que confesó sentirse desgraciada la mayor parte del tiempo.

Una caída de una silla puede cambiar la historia de un país. O un vestido blanco en uno de los objetos más famosos de Hollywood. Entre fados portugueses y salas de cine neoyorquinas, 'La Cultureta' de Carlos Alsina viaja desde el Fuerte de Santo Antonio da Barra —el refugio veraniego de Antonio de Oliveira Salazar— hasta el centenario de Marilyn Monroe. ¿Qué relación tiene todo esto con 'La empresa de sillas', la serie que ha visto Nacho Vigalondo? El programa también recupera la historia detrás de la escena más célebre de 'La tentación vive arriba': las catorce tomas necesarias para levantar la falda de Marilyn sobre una rejilla del metro, la furia de Joe DiMaggio durante el rodaje y el destino posterior del icónico vestido blanco subastado décadas después por millones de dólares. Rubén Amón, Rosa Belmonte, Guillermo Altares, Sergio del Molino y Nacho Vigalondo enlazan así dictaduras, monstruos cinematográficos y la melancolía de una actriz que confesó sentirse desgraciada la mayor parte del tiempo.Conviértete en un supporter de este podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/mas-noticias--4412383/support.ESCUCHAR RADIO 

Esta semana nos adentramos de nuevo en el laboratorio de IMA para modificar todos los escenarios de Civil War, Sedición sintezoide y algunos más, (00:19:44) Noticias (01:06:03) Laboratorio de IMA (02:44:34) Comentarios de nuestros patronos ¡Esperamos que os guste! [ESCENARIOS IMA] Iron Man. Los 3 pesados: P1. Reclutas de S.H.I.E.L.D. P2. No hay vuelta atrás 1. María Hill 2. Ley Marcial 3. Silla del juicio -------------------------- Capitan América. Duros de pelar: P1. Llamamiento P2. Guerra de guerrillas 1. Superfuerza 2. Armadillo 3. Brigada de demolición -------------------------- Capitana Marvel. Acusadora: P1. Imponer la ley P2. Prisión en la Zona Negativa 1. Gema de poder 2. Militantes Kree 3. Yon-Rogg 3B. Arsenal sin guardias Plot twist - Añade el Acesorio "Arma universal" del escenario de Ronan. Las cartas que hacen referencia a Ronan, hacen referencia a Capitana Marvel. -------------------------- Spiderwoman. Mínimo 3: P1. Rebelión abierta P2. Guerra de guerrillas 1. Caos en la ciudad 2. Armadillo 3. Defensores -------------------------- Hulka. Estrella mediática: P1. Indignación pública P2. No hay vuelta atrás 1. Telecomedia 2. Telepatía 3. Amo del tiempo Plot twist - El entorno "Mojo el travieso" pierde la capacidad de "Respuesta" para 2+ jugadores. -------------------------- Visión. Visión infinitesimal: P1. Llamamiento P2. No hay vuelta atrás 1. Guantelete del infinito 2. Civiles en peligro 3. Archienemigo de Visión 4. Hijos de Thanos Plot Twist - Ultrón se vincula a Visión como un accesorio que le da la respuesta. Super-extra-hot-plot-twist - Ultron desatado gana la palabra clave "Inicio". -------------------------- Caballero absorbente: Hombre Absorbente 1. Caballero Luna 2. La Iniciativa 3. Estado de emergencia Plot Twist - Muestras la fase 2 de Hombre absorbente y cuando resuelvas el "cuando se muestre", cambias a fase 3. Derrotar la fase 3 dos veces. -------------------------- Simbiosis vengativa: Veneno 1. Poderoso Vengadores 2. Nuevos Vengadores 3. Vengadores secretos Plot Twist - El Accesorio "Armas improvisadas" del conjunto modular "Fuerza Simbiótica" se vincula al Villano en la preparación (a 2+ jugadores). No hace falta incluir el resto del conjunto modular "Fuerza Simbiótica". -------------------------- Seduceme otra vez: Encantadora 1. Spiderman 2. La iniciativa Plot Twist - Todos los esbirros ganan el Rasgo "Subyugado".

La asociación sin ánimo de lucro y de carácter social, con sede en Bilbao, atiende 20.000 servicios al mes. Reconocido internacionalmente por su equipo de baloncesto en sillas de ruedas, el BBK Bidaideak, que compite en la máxima categoría nacional, con un palmarés histórico que incluye un título de Liga Nacional, dos títulos de Copa del Rey, y destacados logros a nivel internacional en competiciones europea, la organización es más que su deporte adaptado. ¿Cuáles son los programas orientados a la autonomía personal y la participación igualitaria?

“Silla : l'Or et le Sacré”Trésors royaux de Corée (57 av. J.-C. – 935 apr. J.-C.)au Musée national des arts asiatiques – Guimet, Parisdu 20 mai au 31 août 2026Entretien avec Dr. Arnaud Bertrand,conservateur des collections Corée – Chine ancienne au musée Guimet,et co-commissaire de l'exposition,par Anne-Frédérique Fer, à Paris, le 18 mai 2026, durée 24'38,© FranceFineArt.https://francefineart.com/2026/05/19/3719_silla_musee-national-des-arts-asiatiques-guimet/Communiqué de presseCommissariat :Dr. Arnaud Bertrand conservateur des collections Corée – Chine ancienne au musée GuimetYim Jaewan conservateur senior au musée national de GyeongjuYun Seogyeong assistante conservatrice au musée national de GyeongjuExposition organisée par Guimet – musée national des arts asiatiques et le musée national de Gyeongju (Corée du Sud)Grâce à une collaboration exceptionnelle avec le musée national de Gyeongju et d'autres institutions muséales sud-coréennes et françaises, le musée Guimet présente, pour la première fois en Europe, une exposition sur le royaume du Silla (57 av J.-C- 935 après J.-C), l'une des civilisations les plus brillantes de l'Asie de l'Est.Révélé par l'archéologie autant que par les chroniques médiévales, l'art du Silla apparaît aujourd'hui comme un héritage vivant, au coeur de la mémoire culturelle de la Corée du Sud. Cette présentation inédite met en lumière un royaume où, durant près d'un millénaire, art, spiritualité et pouvoir se sont conjugués pour façonner une culture d'une remarquable richesse.Des origines mythiques du Silla, racontées par les chroniques coréennes médiévales, à la chute du royaume, l'exposition se déploie en cinq sections thématiques qui retracent l'histoire, les expressions artistiques et la mémoire d'un État à la fois puissant et profondément ancré dans des traditions spirituelles. Elle offre une lecture renouvelée de cette civilisation, révélant la manière dont les dynamiques politiques, religieuses et esthétiques se sont entremêlées pour produire un héritage qui est parvenu jusqu'à nous.Transportés aux origines de la ville-paysage Gyeongju, au sud-est de la Corée, les visiteurs découvriront les traces d'une civilisation dont les montagnes, les immenses « tombes-montagnes », les temples et la vie moderne portent encore l'empreinte. Une ville dont les habitants sont pleinement investis dans la protection de leur patrimoine.Du 4e au début du 6e siècle, la période dite maripgan marque une étape décisive dans l'affirmation de l'identité du Silla avec l'essor du clan des Kim. L'or devient la signature éclatante du royaume, symbole d'un pouvoir consolidé. Les trésors exhumés des grandes tombes royales (couronnes d'or, parures de jade, bijoux ouvragés, grès figuratifs) témoignent d'un savoir-faire exceptionnel et d'un royaume ouvert aux échanges sur les routes reliant le Japon, la Chine, la steppe, l'Asie centrale, jusqu'aux mondes méditerranéens. Prestige politique et splendeur artistique s'y confondent, donnant naissance à un langage visuel d'une exceptionnelle inventivité.Au cours du Silla unifié (668–935), le royaume s'impose comme puissance méridionale dominante, avec le bouddhisme comme force spirituelle et protectrice du territoire. Les matériaux précieux autrefois réservés aux tombes royales trouvent désormais leur place dans les monastères, les pagodes, les reliquaires et les images sacrées.Les trésors de fer, d'or, d'argent, de verre et de pierre du Silla constituent un héritage vivant, encore perceptible dans le paysage de Gyeongju comme dans la mémoire collective.[...] Hébergé par Acast. Visitez acast.com/privacy pour plus d'informations.

We talk about the famous Wu Zetian, as well as Kings Munmu, Sinmun, and Hyoso in Silla.  These were the rulers at the same time that Uno no Sarara was overseeing things in Yamato.  Here we see a bit of tit for tat politics between Yamato and Silla.  We also get a tale of personal sacrifice from veterans of the Silla-Tang war against Baekje. For more notes and references, check out our blogpost page:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-149 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 149: Kings, Queen, and an Empress   Uno no Sarara and her son, Crown Prince Kusakabe, sat in court.  The trappings of the recent mourning period had been put aside with the recent burial of Uno's husband, Ohoama, and they were now preparing for Crown Prince Kusakabe's coronation.  However, the matter in front of them had nothing to do with that.  Instead, they listened to an official recounting of what had transpired on the peninsula.  The court had explicitly sent an envoy to Silla to inform them of Ohoama's death, but it took much longer than it should have for Norimaro and his party to return.  There had even been an envoy mission from Silla while they were away. As Uno no Sarara listened intently, she found it harder and harder to keep her emotions in check.  She listened as the story of the Yamato mission was told, and as she heard of how her messengers were treated—how they weren't even allowed to tell the Silla court their news all because someone in Silla had decided that they weren't appropriate ambassadors. Silla had finally come to learn of Ohoama's death, and the mission returned home, but this treatment was inexcusable.  These were not just Yamato's messengers, they were carrying the royal word of Queen Uno no Sarara, head of the state and de facto ruler as they mourned the loss of her husband and predecessor.  To have them kept waiting because of some invented protocol was an affront to the nation, but it was also an affront to her. This. Would. Not. Do...     Greetings, everyone!  Thank you once again for tuning in.  As you may recall, last episode we covered the ceremonies around the death and burial of Ohoama, aka Temmu Tennou, as well as the unceremonious death of Crown Prince Kusakabe, leading to the throne being taken by his mother, Queen Uno no Sarara, aka Jitou Tennou.  One aspect of everything that was going on was the relations with the continent.  This included missions from Yamato to the continent—especially those involved with communicating information about the changes in the Yamato court.  So this episode I thought we could look at some of the things we see in the record and go over where things sat with regards to the continent. First things first, let's brush up on where we left off.  Back in episode 140 we talked about how the Silla-Tang alliance had broken down.  With Baekje and Goguryeo both defeated, the Tang had set up commanderies to oversea captured territory in both kingdoms, and even though Emperor Tang Taizong had promised Silla suzerainty over Baekje, his successor, Gaozong, had not adhered to that agreement.  In response, and with the help of Goguryeo rebels, Kind Munmu of Silla had fought back against the Tang forces, eventually consolidating everything south of the Taedong river, approximating the extent of the modern country of South Korea. Meanwhile, Goguryeo rebels continued to trouble the Tang, and King Bojang set up by the Tang dynasty would eventually betray them, allying with the northern Malgal people.  They would continue to fight to restore their sovereignty.  With pressure from Silla and Goguryeo, the Tang commandery pulled back from Pyongyang to Liaoyang—effectively putting the mountainous regions at the head of the Korean peninsula between them and their enemies.  Silla control was de facto, but would not be recognized formally by the Tang dynasty until the early 8th century.  That didn't meant they were completely at odds, however.  Silla would resume diplomatic mission to the Tang, despite their territorial disagreements. Silla's King Munmu, who had pushed back against the Tang, was succeed by his son, known as King Sinmun.  Sinmun had been Crown Prince during the wars against Baekje and Goguryeo.  Much as Ohoama and Uno no Sarara had been doing on the archipelago, he was working to centralize royal authority in Silla. In 681, as Silla was still mourning the death of King Munmu, a rebellion broke out.  It was led by a high ranking Silla official, and father-in-law to Sinmun, Kim Humdol.  It was quickly put down, and Kim Humdol and other officials who were implicated were executed.  This was actually a golden opportunity for the new King Sinmun to help purge the court of any rivals or ministers with less than absolute dedication to his plan to centralize authority. I kind of get the feeling that, for all of the past conflicts between their nations, Sinmun, Ohoama, and Uno might have gotten along quite well.  However, that didn't stop the fact that they were rulers of rival nations, and while they may have had similar concepts of leadership, they also were focused on their own rule and authority. To that end, Sinmun also reached out to the Tang court with tribute missions, and in so doing was at least recognized by the Tang court, who enfeoffed him as King of Silla.  This appears to have been a bit of polite fiction, but that was how a lot of this operated, ultimately.  King Sinmun would have held power in Silla regardless of the Tang court's approval, but the fiction that the court had bestowed his authority no doubt provided some diplomatic benefits, and a context within which to operate on the international stage.  It also no doubt allowed for increased trade, bringing in exotic and high status items, which would have been useful for boosting approval ratings back home. King Sinmun ruled until his death in 691.  He was succeeded by his son, known as King Hyoso.  However, Hyoso was young—about 5 years old when he took the throne.  And so his mother, Queen Sinmok, acted as regent for much of his reign—right up until her death in 700.  Hyoso ended up reigning for a decade, until 702, meaning that he and his mother reigned throughout Uno no Sarara's period as sovereign in Yamato. Hyoso's reign saw continued progress towards centralization of authority, as well as improved relationships with the Tang court.  Silla maintained diplomatic ties and tribute missions, and the Tang court conferred recognition on Hyoso as the King of Silla, in return. Speaking of the Tang Court, Emperor Tang Gaozong passed away before Ohoama had, departing this world in 683.  However, for all that he was the emperor, he had not really been the one running things for some time.  Gaozong came to the throne at roughly 21 years of age, and throughout most of his reign he had to share power with others in the court.  Originally this meant high ranking minister, but there was also his wife, Wu Zhao, aka Wu Zetian.  Wu had been a consort under Tang Taizong, and then continued as a consort for Gaozong as well.  Then, in 655, she was officially made empress. In 660, Gaozong began to suffer from an unknown illness, characterized by headaches, dizziness, , and occasional seizures and loss of vision.  Some have suggested it was a stroke or some form of hypertension.  Either way, these symptoms would plague him for the rest of his reign, and so he began to delegate more and more authority to Wu Zhao, who would handle things on his behalf. Thus, Wu was effectively already running things by the time of Gaozong's death in 683.  At that point, she became the Empress Dowager, and her third son became emperor Zhongzong—at least in name.  Because Wu Zhao maintained all of the power and authority at court.  She was, in fact, the regent, and a mere six weeks after Zhongzong took the throne he was removed by his own mother.  It seems that Zhongzong, who came to the throne at the age of 28, was showing signs of being a little too much under the influence of his wife, Empress Wei.  In fact, he is said to have considered giving her the Empire.  And so Wu had him deposed and exiled.  She then had his younger brother made Emperor Ruizong, though still under Wu Zhao's term as regent. Ruizong was about 22 when he took the throne under his mother in 684.  He would continue to reign until 690, when he abdicated the throne in favor of his mother.  From that point on, Wu Zhao ruled as the sovereign for another 15 years, until the year 705, declaring it a return of the ancient Zhou dynasty.  In other words, for all of Uno no Sarara's reign in Yamato, another woman, Wu Zhao, sat atop the traditionally patriarchal seat of power in the Tang—and later Zhou—court. Wu Zhao is more commonly known to us, today, as Wu Zetian.  This comes from her final title as reigning monarch:  Zetian Dasheng Huangdi, or Heaven-following Great Holy Emperor.  She is often depicted as a ruthless and politically savvy ruler who usurped the throne through her feminine wiles and violence.  We see how she dethroned her own son to avoid him giving up the throne to his wife.  She is also said to have had another son killed because of her ambitions, and is even accused of killing her own daughter just to blame a rival at court.  She is also depicted performing plenty of other unflattering acts. Of course, it is worth noting that she was not the one to write her own history.  After her reign, her epitaph was inscribed by her own political rivals.   It is notable that she is the only Empress to be recognized as ruling in her own right in the entire history of China.  Certainly there were others who reigned as regents, and women with tremendous power and influence, but none of them really held the throne uncontested. Given the animosity of the authors who wrote about her reign, we have to take anything we hear about Wu Zhao with a bit of salt.  On the other hand, Tang dynasty imperial politics were ruthless, and you didn't get to the top because you had a charming demeanor.   While there is no doubt more than a little slander written into the history books, one only has to look at the men who ruled before and after her to wonder whether she really did anything that was so much better or worse than what they did.  Just keep that in mind as we go through some of what she was accused of. Now what we are told is that with her younger son, Emperor Ruizong, she was only nominally pretending to be regent.  She didn't bother to hide behind a screen with him out front and we are told she openly whispered answers and commands that Ruizong would immediately parrot.  Ruizong never moved into the imperial suites of the palace, which his mother maintained.  Ruizong didn't even attend imperial functions, and officials were not allowed to meet with him privately.  An uprising in Yang state was said to be in part because of her rule, and it was suggested that she should step aside and let her son truly rule to restore confidence, but she was having none of it and had those who suggested it arrested.  Later, she would institute post boxes around government buildings for people to snitch on those around them who might be disloyal, and she instituted secret police, who investigated various rumors and false accusations with torture, leading to numerous executions. In 685 she is said to have had an affair with a Buddhst monk, Huaiyi, who was then conferred with various honors.  Then, in 686, she offered to return the throne to Ruizong, but Ruizong, realizing that there was no way she would let go of power, saw it as a test of his obedience, and declined.  In 688 she summoned senior members of the Li Family, the family of the Tang emperors, under the pretense of making sacrifices to the spirit of the Luo river, which flowed through the Eastern Capital of Luoyang.  Several of the Princes of the Li house were worried that she was going to slaughter them all, Red Wedding style, if they showed up, in order to secure the throne to herself, and so they plotted to rebel, but coordination was not the greatest back then, and two princes rose up before the others were ready.  They were crushed, and many other members of the Li family were implicated, arrested, and forced to commit suicide.  In 690, she completely did away with any dissembling and declared a new dynasty—the Zhou dynasty—declaring herself Shengshen Huangdi, or Holy Divine Emperor of the Zhou dynasty.  And yes, this is the same Zhou as the ancient Zhou dynasty—she was apparently claiming descent from the ancient rulers of Zhou. Her son was thus deposed and she ruled uncontested from 690 until her death in705.  She would go by various names.  Three years in and she would add "Jinlun", or "Golden Wheel" to her title, referring to the Buddhist concept of a Chakravartin, or Golden Wheel Turning Monarch. This latter title came in part as she is said to have elevated the foreign religion of Buddhism over the native Taoist religion.  She is also said to have built numerous temples around the capital cities and elsewhere.  In 692, the rising power of the secret police appeared to have been halted.  One of the officials in charge, Lai Junchen, attempted to have a handful of officials executed for false accusastions.  He told them that if they confessed to the accusations, their lives would be spared, and so many of them confessed to the false accusations, but Junchen conspired to have them executed anyway.  One of the officials was none other than the famous Di Renjie.  Renjie wrote a petition on his blanket and then hid that with the laundry that he sent to his family when it was time to change from winter to summer robes.  His family found it and submitted the petition to Wu Zhao, who became suspicious of Junchen.  For his part, Junchen has submitted forged petitions from the prisoners, thanking Empress Wu for preparing to execute them. Other accusations against Junchen's methods came to light, and so Empress Wu interrogated the prisoners personally.  They all disavowed their confessions, and so Wu commuted their sentences from death to exile.  Junchen continued to operate until 697, but there seems to have been a notable decrease in the number of executions after that point.  He would eventually go too far, and planning to accuse the Li and Wu princes and princesses of treason, but they acted first and he ended up being executed.  Without Lai Junchen, the secret police seem to have largely fallen apart. As for Di Renjie, he eventually worked his way back into the good graces of Wu and the court, eventually being recalled to Luoyang to serve.  Di Renjie's own legend grew, and in the 18th or 19th century he was recast as a kind of Tang dynasty detective in the historical crime drama genre popular at the time.  The book, "Di Gong An", or "Celebrated Cases of Judge Dee", was found by a Dutch Ambassador to China, Robert van Gulik, in a used bookstore in Tokyo, of all places.  Van Gulik would go on to translate the stories and penned a number of others using the style and characters of the original.  Judge Dee was cast as the "Sherlock Holmes of China" and has since become popular in both China and the West.  The first novel in the series was actually set in the time of Empress Wu. Robert van Gulik also had several scholarly works, including a translation of the Tang Yin Pi Shih, a 13th century manual for magistrates with examples of cases spanning approximately 1400 years, from the Qin to Song dynasty.  This work really helps to illuminate how the ancient justice system worked back then.  Fictional detectives aside, Empress Wu would continue to reign over an impressive period in history.  There were plenty of deadly politics, various attacks by outside forces, and more. Overall, it was a fairly prosperous time for the empires. When Wu passed away in 705, her son, Emperor Zhongzong, resumed the throne, ending the Zhou dynasty and resuming the Tang dynasty of the Li family.  Still, Wu Zhao, aka Wu Zetian, would be well remembered.  She was buried in the Qianling Mausoleum, near Chang'an, alongside her late husband, Emperor Gaozong.  Various other members of the Royal Li family were also buried there, and many of their tombs have been opened.  The paintings, statues, and artwork and funerary goods provide a tremendously detailed look at Tang court culture and society at this time.  Statues outside indicate officials and ambassadors from across the Tang courts sphere of influence.  There are depictions of court dress and the elaborate hairstyles, fabrics, and more, as the tombs generally include court men and women.  The famous mural of the Ambassadors is shown with Korean, western, and possibly even a Japanese envoy.  The murals also show architectural elements of ancient Chang'an and more. The tombs of Gaozong and Zetian clearly known, but currently have not undergone excavation.  Much like with the tomb of Qin Shihuangdi, the government has put a moratorium on opening the tombs until they can be sure that everything can be properly protected as they do so.  There is a huge concern that the tombs could be robbed or that priceless works could be damaged if they are opened improperly or without sufficient techniques to adequately preserve them. As noted above, although Empress Wu is often demonized by historians, we have to ask if her reign was truly so much different from others.  She was certainly a woman taking power in a male-dominated system.  Where a man projecting power was seen as normal, Empress Wu was seen as perverting the natural order.  An emperor taking to bed numerous consorts and concubines was considered only natural.  However, Empress Wu taking to bed various men for her own enjoyment was seen as licentious and indecent.  The double-standard seems pretty clear. I even have to wonder about things like the secret police.  While it certainly is alarming to see a government sending people out to arrest and charge people on the barest of evidence, often with little or no accountability or transparency, one should consider what justice looked like at the time, more generally.  Tang dynasty justice was often harsh, and torture was considered a standard practice to elicit a confession.  Once someone was accused of a crime, their guilt was assumed, and it was on them to prove their innocence.  This was a tall order, as the thinking of the day was often that if you hadn't done anything wrong, why would anyone risk falsely accusing you?  So clearly you had done *something* to disrupt the social order, even if it wasn't what you were actually accused of. Furthermore, there is a fine line between rooting out disloyalty to the regime and rooting out corruption.  Anonymous tips can be used to call SWAT to someone's house, but it can also be a way for a whistleblower to alert those in authority that something untoward is going on.  And something begun with the best of intentions, can easily be corrupted, especially in the wrong hands. And so I think we can give Empress Wu at least the benefit of the doubt that she seems to have tried to do right by the people and her country.  The Tang court, by all accounts, was a nest of vipers, and I don't think she was a saint, but neither was she the devil incarnate. In fact, a lot of the accusations against Empress Wu would appear to be paralleled, years later, in the archipelago—possibly being parroted by men who were aware of the anti-Wu propaganda.  Kouken Tennou—who would also reign a second time as Shoutoku Tennou, was embroiled in conflict. Like Wu, she came to power in a court embroiled in familial politics.  She was known to be a supporter of Buddhism, and she was also said to have had an affair with a monk, Doukyou, upon whom she is said to have lavished power and authority.  She is also said to have modeled her nengo, the auspicious names for the year, off of Empress Wu.  After her death, her reign was used as a reason why there was not another regnant female sovereign on the throne until the Edo period, and she is often seen as the Last Female Sovereign, much as there was never another Empress regnant amongst the various Sinic dynasties. However, returning ourselves back to the 7th century, those histories had yet to be written.  Instead, one has to wonder how much communication there was between the continent and the archipelago.  Did Uno no Sarara realize that she was not the only woman taking charge at that time?  Was Empress Wu considered a model for her?  Or was she seen as more of a rival?  Or was it neither?  Did either one regard the other at all, embroiled as they were in their own, local and domestic pursuits? If they did, there isn't much, if anything, in the record. There is plenty to be said about relations with both Silla and the Tang dynasty in general, however.  Most of the focus was actually on Silla, to be honest—not surprising given Silla's place in the international arena in relation to Yamato. Last episode we mentioned that an embassy was sent to Silla to announce the death of Ohoama.  It was only several months after he had passed away, on the 19th day of 687.  The chief and assistant envoys were Tanaka no Ason no Norimaro and Mori no Kimi no Karita.  Norimaro is listed as Jikikwoshi rank—the lowest of the Jiki category, which was the 3rd of 6.  This put him about 24 ranks down in the 48 rank system.  Karita, on the other hand, was Tsuidaini, putting him at about 43 of 48 court ranks.  Normally, I don't pay too much attention to the ranks that are given in the Chronicles, mainly for two reasons.  First off is that you aren't always sure that the rank given in the Chronicle corresponds with the rank at the time of the event—sometimes we see ranks that are clearly anachronistic—typically later in their life.  Since people don't typically drop in rank, unless they are demoted, this usually gives you some information, but not always. The second reason I often don't pay attention is because it usually isn't germane to the story.  It is why I'll also drop the uji and the kabane, once we establish a particular person.  Otherwise it feels like word salad. Every once in a while I do like to look at the ranks, however, because they do give us information about things like the individual's general position in the court hierarchy.  In this case we see that, of the officials selected for this assignment, one was near the bottom of the upper half of the court, while the other was really in a much more junior position.  I believe this may also be important later on, because there was a certain expectation that the person representing a sovereign in diplomatic situations would have sufficient rank to indicate some amount of pull, back home. The mission of Norimaro and Karita to Silla may have been ordered in the first month of the year, but it seems it likely took time before it actually left—or something happened.  I say this because in the 9th month we see an embassy from Silla arrive, and they are apparently unaware of any changes in the archipelago.  The embassy was headed by the Prince Gim Sangnim.  We are also told that there were two other officials, Gim Salmo and Gim Insyul, both of Geupson rank.  Then there was So Yangsin of Daesa rank.  That was two of vice ministerial rank and one of lower official rank.  These ranks were connected both to their office and to their family, as Silla still used a fairly rigid system based on the rank of one's family, similar to the way that the old Kabane system worked before it was reformed under Ohoama in the previous reign. The embassy from Silla also included a student-priest, Chiryu.  Presumably Chiryu was from Yamato and had gone abroad to study, and was now making his way back home. It appears as though the embassy had no idea that Ohoama had passed away as we are told that they had to be informed by the Dazai—the Viceroy of Tsukushi.  Once they were informed, they all put on mourning clothing, turned towards the east—towards the capital of Yamato—and they bowed three times and then cried out lamentations three times. I would note that there is another record in the first month of the following year, which states that Gim Sangnim and his colleagues were informed of Ohoama's death and lamented three times.   That could just be a misplaced duplicate of the previous entry, about the embassy—possibly it got recorded multiple times and different ways and on different dates.  It isn't exactly clear.  Either way, it seems that this was not meant to be an official condolence envoy, but just a regular embassy bringing trade goods disguised as tribute.  In fact, in the 2nd month of 688 we are told that the Viceroy of Tsukushi presented the tribute from Silla to the capital.  It is said to have included gold and silver, thin silks, cloth, skins, copper, and iron.  There were also images of the Buddha, all kinds of coloured fine silks, birds, and horses.  Sangnim himself had presents of gold and silver, colored stuffs, and various rarieties—80 items all told.  Sangnim and his crew probably didn't travel to Asuka, because we are told that as of the 10th day of the 2nd month of 688 they were being entertained in the Tsukushi government house, where they were given various gifts by the court, and then they headed out on the 29th day of that month. A year after that, in the first month of 689, Norimaro and Karita returned from Silla, suggesting that the two embassies really had just passed each other—such were the issues with international travel back in the day. Now, normally, we don't hear much about what happened during these embassies.  The Nihon Shoki doesn't typically record anything, possibly because they just didn't have any records.  And the records in the Samguk Sagi often don't mention anything, either.  It is possible that it was just considered too routine to mention the ins and outs.  However, in this instance, we may have some insight, because it is mentioned later in the narrative. You see, four months behind Norimaro and Karita came the formal Silla condolence envoy.  It was headed by Gim Dona, of Geupson rank—so a vice minister instead of a prince heading up the embassy.  Silla also sent student-priests Meiso, Kwanchi, and others, along with a gold-copper image of Amida Buddha and a gold-copper image of Kannon and an image of Daiseishi Boddhisatva, along with colored silks and brocades. A month after they arrived, the condolence envoy received a message from none other than Queen Uno no Sarara herself, but this was not necessarily a good thing.  In fact, she appears to be dressing down the Silla envoys and the Silla court more generally, because of how things had gone with Norimaro and Karita—and this possibly also explains why it took so long for them to get to Silla and back. According to the Yamato court, Norimaro and Karita were sent to Silla to announce the death of Ohoama.  However, Silla protocol stated that persons charged to deliver a royal message had always had the rank of Sopan. This appears to be equivalent to the rank of Japchan, and indicates the third rank in Silla's system.  Because of this, Queen Uno's message goes on to state, Norimaro and Karita were not allowed to deliver their message about Ohoama's passing to the court.  However, back when Karu—Koutoku Tennou—had passed away in 654, Kose no Inamochi went to announce the funerals dates, and he was received by Gim Shunshun listened to the report.  So saying that it is someone of the third rank that is needed goes against precedent. Furthermore, when Naka no Oe passed away in 671, Silla sent Gim Salyu, who was of 7th rank, but now they send someone of 9th rank.  So if precedent was to be followed, wouldn't that also be a problem? This whole thing is really fascinating in that it demonstrates the kind of delicate balance and back and forth that was going on—and I suspect that it was growing even more specific as each country was adopting more rules and laws, and compiling them into codes.  It is notable that the Chronicles make sure to state the rank of each ambassador from Silla, at least in the last several reigns.  That suggests that the government was tracking such things, and that it was important. The rest of the screed by the Yamato court seems a little more about setting out Yamato's position on Silla-Yamato relations.  Here Yamato puts words into the mouths of former Silla officials, claiming that they always addressed Yamato's sovereign with deference.  Yamato claimed Silla had promised service to Yamato since the remote royal ancestors, promising that the oars of the ships bringing tribute to the archipelago would "never become dry", and yet this time, there was only one ship that came to offer condolences.  Furthermore, the Silla kings were to serve the sovereigns of Yamato faithfully, but they had now broken the faith. Therefore their tribute goods were sealed up and returned back. That said, they weren't completely breaking off communications.  This was a rebuke, certainly, but they were willing to keep channels open with hopes that relations might improve in the future. My read on all of this is that the Yamato envoys to Silla had been snubbed by that court for not being of appropriate station by Silla's rules.  Therefore, in a tit-for-tat move, Yamato was treating the condolence envoy similarly. That doesn't mean they didn't show them any hospitality, though.  Queen Uno no Sarara had the Viceroy, Awada no Mabito no Ason, give the student-priests Meiso and Kanchi, who had just come back with the condolence envoy, 140 kin of floss silk for their teachers back in Silla, in apparent gratitude.  And then a few days later they were entertaining the condolence envoys in Wogohori in Tsukushi, and giving them various presents for their trouble. This is likely the kind of "don't shoot the messenger".  Sure, they were returning the tribute and sending a message to Silla, but that wasn't the fault of Gim Dona and his colleagues.  And they were now taking a rather disappointing message back with them—I doubt anyone wanted to be in Gim Dona's shoes as he told the court what had transpired. Gim Dona and crew left shortly after that.  From there, we don't have a lot of information on what happened.  The Silla annals of the Samguk Sagi don't record Gim Dona's embassy, let alone what happened when they came back.  However, Silla  would send future envoys, and diplomatic relations between the two countries continued throughout the reign.  The Silla embassies from that point on are largely, for our purposes, unremarkable.  I may mention them if they relate to other items of note, but for the most part there is really only two other embassies of note, and they were in the year 693.  The first was from Silla, led by Gim Gangnam of Sasan rank, along with Gim Yangweon of Hannama rank—so 8th and 11th rank in the Silla hierarchy, apparently.  They had come to announce the death of King Sinmun, who had passed away the previous year.    And so, on the 16th day of the 3rd month, an embassy was prepared to depart for Silla.  It was headed up by Okinaga no Mabito no Oyu, of Jikikwoshi rank—much as Norimaro had been.  He and his proposed vice envoy, Ohotomo no Sukune no Kogimi, who was Gondaini rank—27th of 48—were both given gifts prior to their election as ambassadors, and were sent as condolence envoys, themselves. Meanwhile, let's take a look at Yamato's interactions with the Tang dynasty. First of all, we see a note in the 6th month of 689 that presents of rice were given to Xu Shouyen, Sa Hungko, and others from the land of the Great Tang.  So was this an embassy?  Not quite. Remember that little scuffle back in the 660s on the Korean Peninsula?  That special military operation by Silla and Tang forces against Baekje, where Yamato had tried to assist, only to have their navy bested by Tang forces? Well during the fighting , there had been numerous prisoners taken, on both sides.  Xu Shouyen and Sa Hungko were two such prisoners.  Except that "prison" in this case was largely being sent to live off the land.  They were probably forced to do labor, though if they had special skills, such as reading and writing, they may have been put to work in another way.  Indeed, we later see these two mentioned not as prisoners or even slaves, but as teachers of "pronunciation".  They were even given rice-land and stipends of their own.  Granted, this is decades after they first came to  Yamato, so this wasn't exactly a smooth ride. But it wasn't just Tang prisoners in Yamato.  Yamato soldiers had also been captured and taken prisoner by Tang forces.  And so, in the 9th month of 690, we see three priests who had gone to the land of Tang to study returned in the company of a Silla escort envoy, and they brought back with them a soldier, Ohotomobe no Hakama, from the Upper Yame district in Tsukushi. The three priests, Chishiu, Gitoku, and Jougwan all made their way to the capital, arriving several weeks after they first made landfall in Tsukushi.  At this point, Prince Kawachi was the Dazai in charge of affairs out there, and soon after the priests arrived at Naniwa and made their way to the capital, in Asuka, messengers going the other way made it out to Tsukushi with orders to give presents and gifts to the Gim Gohun, the escort envoy who had shuttled them all back from the continent. But even more impressive was the royal edict that was dated a week later for Ohotomobe no Hakama.  It lays out the circumstances of his capture and what happened to him that he stayed in the land of the Tang for so long.  You see, Hakama was one of many soldiers who was captured during the war to defend Baekje.  But three years after that conflict, the Tang dynasty was no longer trying to keep them prisoner.  This was a time when you didn't necessarily need to have buildings with walls to keep people prisoner—you just moved them to a new area where they could farm or otherwise set up a livelihood, or starve.  Travel was dangerous and expensive, especially if you didn't speak the language.  Nonetheless, if you did wish to return, there wasn't a lot stopping you, beyond just having the means to do so. And so this group of Wa soldiers got together and debated what to do.  We are told that it was four men—Hashi no Hoto, Kohori no Oyu, Tsukuhi no Satsuyama, and Yuge no Gen Jitsuni—the last one apparently having taken a local name on the continent.  Amongst themselves, they wanted to return to the archipelago not just to see their families and friends, but also to let people back home know about the changing conditions on the mainland.  As you may recall, around this time, Yamato was fiercely building up forces and defenses because they were convinced that there was going to be an attack by the Tang and Silla forces at any moment. The only problem that these four had in getting back was that they had, well, nothing.  They had neither the clothing nor provisions to make such a journey.  What would they eat and how would they pay for passage?  As such, they were unable to get back.  Hearing this, Ohotomobe no Hakama spoke up.  He declared that, as much as he also wished to return, he could at least help them out.  He offered to be sold into slavery so that his companions could obtain money with which to buy food and clothing. And so they did.  Hakama was sold, and he probably had no idea what happened to the four after that. It turns out, however, that they did make it back and were able to give the Yamato court some idea of what had happened.  Meanwhile, Hakama remained in a foreign land as a slave for some 30 years, until he was finally able to make it back to Yamato, apparently with the help of the three monks. This whole story was relayed to the court, and when the Queen heard it, she decided to act.  And thus the edict.  Not only did she recount his story and praise him for his loyalty, but he was granted certain honors.  First off, he was granted the rank of Mudaishi—the 39th rank in the court hierarchy, which gave him not a small amount of status, especially if he stayed in Tsukushi.  He was also granted5 pieses of coarse silk, 10 bundles of floss silk, 30 tan of cloth, and 1000 sheaves of rice.  On top of that, though, he received four chou of rice-land, which was given to him and his descendants, until at least his great-grandchildren.  Finally, his parents, siblings, and children, were also exempted from having to ever provide corvee labor. Now, nobody could give him back his 30 years, but this was quite the consolation prize, at the time.  To basically get rank and status, a stipend down four generations, and exemption from forced labor for him and his relatives, that was pretty incredible, if you think about it. Hakama wasn't the only one who had suffered in the country of the Great Tang and was rewarded for it.  Mononobe no Kusuri, from Iyo, and Mibu no Moroshi, in Higo, were also paid out handsomely in consolation for their sufferings,  though we aren't given details on their stories, or even when they came back. There are also other descriptions of Tang men, but it seems that these were individuals in a similar position to Xu Shouyen and Sa Hungko—they had been captured and were now living in Yamato.  That they were integrating into Yamato society seems clear from the fact that they were given rank and similarly treated like vassals of the throne. What we don't see, however, are any further diplomatic missions.  Those wouldn't start up for a while, and so even if Queen Uno no Sarara had wanted to confer with another female monarch, it would have to have been done through the auspices of Silla, who at t his point seem to have largely controlled the flow of goods, people, and thus information between the straits. And with that, I think we can close out this episode.  Moving forward, we have more details about a lot of different things, and yet others are still lacking.  It is my goal to try and be a little more selective about the passages we pull from the Chronicles.  We don't need to go over every natural disaster or prayer to the wind-gods.  We will take a look at things like the completion of the Fujiwara capital, as well as the 22 volumes of the Asuka-Kiyomihara law codes.  And then there are a few persons of note that we should probably mention as well, such as the appearance of Fujiwara no Fubito.  We should also talk about some of the other royal edicts that were made. All of that for later.  For now, 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.

David Macho es artista. Vive y trabaja en Barcelona. Su nueva exposición se puede ver en la Galería Alzueta en Madrid. Hablamos sobre abismos, el placer de dormir, estudios de artistas, santos, el Lidl, la cara de Jennifer Aniston, Mi Año de Descanso y Relajación, funerales, Julita Salmerón, tener el bigote blanco por estrés, cuadros y true crime.

Hoy hemos tenido el honor de contar con el Dúo Azuer compuesto por Ismael Huertas y Elena Muñoz, músicos con un currículum impresionante. Todo ello bajo la mirada de el periódico local Lanza, de la mano de Raquel Manota nos entrevistaron y vieron como se cocinaba todo en esta Silla. (El equipo de la silla no se hace responsable de los comentarios vertidos por los invitados) También te recomendamos escuchar los siguientes podcasts amigos: FRIKILOSOFÍA: https://go.ivoox.com/sq/584171 Dimensión Límite: https://go.ivoox.com/sq/4606 SMyTN. Somos misteriosas y tú no: https://go.ivoox.com/sq/2826757 El Club de los Curiosos: https://go.ivoox.com/sq/614720 Habéis cerrado el gas?: https://go.ivoox.com/sq/647522 La Posada Del Cuervo: https://go.ivoox.com/sq/691202 El Dátil de E.T (Humor): https://go.ivoox.com/sq/2070987 CLM Activa Radio: https://go.ivoox.com/sq/1104128 Más Allá del Crimen: https://go.ivoox.com/sq/1622233

Alicia Parente propone tres planes para disfrutar de la cultura en España. Visitamos Extremadura, Sevilla y Segovia, ¡no te lo pierdas!

CD ILUNION, el equipo de baloncesto en silla de ruedas del Grupo Social ONCE, ha logrado la victoria en la Copa de Campeones de Europa al ganar en la final celebrada en Madrid al Thuringia Bulls alemán, sumando así su cuarto título continental.Escuchar audio

Last episode we briefly talked about what happened when Ōama passed away, including the apparent conspiracy around the Royal Prince Ōtsu, and then the question as to why his son, Crown Prince Kusakabe, didn't then succeed him to the throne. This episode we are taking a look at that period, but more focused on the rituals and what went into a royal funeral, and then take a look all the way to the eventual ascension to the throne of not Crown Prince Kusakabe, but instead his mother, Ōama's queen, Uno no Sarara. She would eventually be known as Jitō Tennō. For photos and links to other episodes, check out our blog post: https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-148   Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Episode 148: A Nation Mourns Crown Prince Kusakabe approached the temporary palace structure that had been hastily assembled in the courtyard in front of the Kiyomihara Palace.   Solemnly arrayed around him, dressed in their court garments, were the ministers and government officials.  Together, they approached the palace building, where the Crown Prince's father, Ohoama, also known as Ame no Nunahara oki no Mabito, lay in state.  He had passed away, and according to the imported Confucian values of filial piety, Kusakabe was now expected to mourn in ritual fashion. The court ritualists had seen to every detail of what should be done and even said, to the extent that the crown prince's actions almost felt like a performance of grief, rather than a heartfelt tribute.  And yet, Kusakabe could not help but feel some emotion at the sight of his father, once the most powerful man under heaven, now laid out in this place of temporary interment.  There would be many more ceremonies and rituals before the final mausoleum would be built and the former sovereign's body finally laid to rest.  Until then, even though Ohoama's spirit had left, his body would remain as a symbol to the people, and as the centerpiece of an elaborate ritual, designed, in part, to continue to bolster the state he had helped to create.   Last episode we went into some of the shenanigans around the death of Ohoama and the succession to the throne.  As we saw, not everyone was apparently on board with the idea that Crown Prince Kusakabe would take the throne, leading to the arrest and execution of Prince Ohotsu.  However, we noted that Crown Prince Kusakabe didn't end up on the throne after all: for whatever reason, he never ascended to the honor, and died in 689 – not even three years after the death of his father.  And so we saw Uno no Sarara, Ohoama's wife and queen and mother of Crown Prince Kusakabe, formally take the reins of state and go on to reign as the sovereign, the Sumera Mikoto, or Tennou, until 697.  From there she would become the first ever Retired Sovereign, keeping her hand in government until her death in 703. This episode we are going to look a little more in depth regarding everything that went on around Ohoama's death and the various rites accompanying his passing. Ohoama's was obviously not the first royal death that we have seen in the Chronicles.  It is perhaps, however, one of the best documented in terms of the funerary arrangements and the various rituals that accompanied his passing.  Some of those arrangements are mentioned previously in the Chronicles, but not to the same extent as we see for Ohoama.  This leaves me wondering: are we seeing something novel—new rites for a new type of sovereign, perhaps?  Or was this just the first time the ritual had been documented to this level of detail?. Before jumping into what we see this time around, we should probably look back at what we have seen around the death of previous sovereigns, and which are still going on here.  First and foremost is the creation—or at least the designation—of a "Palace of Temporary Interment".    This is the Mogari no Miya, with "mogari" being the term for the period between an individual's death and their eventual burial.  In the Nihon Shoki we see this practice go back to the earliest times.  After all, most deaths do not occur on a set schedule, and once someone has passed away, funerary arrangements would need to be made.  Now, if all you are doing is putting a body into a box and lowering it into the ground, you can probably bring it all together rather quickly. However, for centuries the burial practices on the archipelago had been significantly more elaborate.  Even those without royal blood might be afforded a special mound, or kofun.  There would be giant stones selected to create the chamber, and then tons of earth and pebbles placed on top.  There might also be haniwa—clay cylinders—which then might even be topped with special figures.  All of this had to be planned out and taken care of, and in some cases, such as the creation of haniwa, it appears as there was a major industry involved in funerary preparations. In the case of royal family members things got even more elaborate, and based on the size of many of the kofun that we see one can assume that their construction took time.  In fact, I would not be surprised if the construction of a new tomb mound might not have kicked off on or near the ascension of the sovereign just to make sure it would be ready, but even still it would take time for all of the rites associated with a royal burial to be ready to go. And so it was common practice that one would have to wait before a burial could actually take place.  Since you couldn't just leave a body out in the open in the community, the corpse would be deposited, instead, in a temporary building.  These are sometimes referred to as mogari huts,  which would likely be placed well away from others.  Here we should also take into account the general pollution associated with death in its various forms.  So you would want to have the body kept out of sight and away from people as best you could while you prepared for the actual burial at some later date.  For sovereigns, this mogari hut, or hut of temporary interment, was eventually referred to as a "miya", or "palace".  In some cases it seems as if one of the buildings of the sovereign's old palace was used for this purpose, while a new palace was then also built for the new reign. In addition to the place of temporary interment, one of the common traditions we see in funerals in the Chronicles is the role of the eulogy.  While a person lay in state during their temporary interment, we are told that people could come to eulogize and lament.  In the case of a sovereign, the high ministers and politically connected would come together and deliver speeches.  This served multiple purposes.  On the one hand, these rituals reinforced concepts of the State and the central authority in the body of the sovereign.  On the other hand, they also served as markers of status for those delivering the speeches, and provided opportunities to be seen and heard, signaling their support of the system that provided them their own power and authority. So all of this  process and ritual that we see for Ohoama is familiar, from previous royal deaths.  However, it's interesting to note that in the most recent years before Ohoama's funeral, a lot of these traditions seem to have been scaled back.  For one thing, there was the decline of large, keyhole shaped kofun, ever since the introduction of Buddhism in the 6th century and the move to memorial temples over large tombs. Furthermore, as part of the Taika era reforms we see regulations on how long temporary interment may last for those of princely rank and below—though nothing is clearly stated for the sovereign themselves.    Let's look at the most recent royal death's before Ohoama's, but since the beginning of the Taika era.  There are at least three we've talked about.  First off is the death of Karu, aka Koutoku Tennou.  Karu's death is barely remarked upon—he was buried about two months after he passed away, and very little fanfare is given.  One can't help but wonder if this was, in part at least, due to the fact that Naka no Oe was actually in charge and running things at the Crown Prince. Takara hime, aka Saimei Tennou, would pass away in the middle of the Baekje war against the Silla-Tang alliance.  Her body was sent back to Yamato, but the Crown Prince and many of the elites established themselves in Tsukushi—modern Kyushu—to better conduct the war on the peninsula.  Not only was her interment thus delayed, but Naka no Oe's own ascension wouldn't take place for several more years, possibly because of the new capital he was building in Ohotsu.  Naka no Oe's own funerary arrangements were interrupted by the events of the Jinshin no Ran.  In fact, the building of his tumulus was used by the government as a cover to bring in soldiers to prepare for the conflict.  There may have been various funerary rituals planned or even carried out by the Afumi court, but if so they were overshadowed by the civil war that broke out between the two claimants to the throne. As such, Ohoama's appears to be the first royal funeral of this magnitude in a while, and in this case they really pulled out all the stops.  There were various activities and rituals associated with Ohoama's passing up through the 11th month of 688, over two years later, when he was finally buried.  So let's go over what happened and maybe what dragged it out so much longer. First off were the immediate lamentations and eulogies.  Ohoama passed away on the 9th day of the 9th month, according to the Nihon Shoki.  It was the year 686 according to the western calendar.  Two months later the erection of the temporary palace of interment began in the southern courtyard—presumably the area south of the Asuka Kiyomihara palace, where they had previously held the various archery competitions. This took a couple of weeks, and Ohoama's body was finally placed in the temporary palace as of the 24th of that month. While ritual lamentations were raised at the start of the building of the mogari palace and when the sovereign's body was interred, the major rites appear to have started three days after he was laid to rest, on the 27th day,  proceeding for the next three days, from the 27th until the 30th. The rites started with Buddhist monks and nuns who arrived before sunrise and began to perform lamentations in the courtyard of the mogari.  Later that day, we see food offerings, apparently for the first time in the Chronicles. Offering food to the dead is not unique to Japan.  Some in Japan will offer food to their ancestors, especially during the Obon festival.  People will also offer food to kami.  In the case of Obon, a bowl of rice is often served with two chopsticks sticking straight out of it.  This has actually led to a social taboo on leaving your chopsticks "stuck" in food, as it looks as though you are offering the food up to the dead.  Instead, chopsticks will be placed on a chopstick rest, on the table, or even across the top of a dish, just not sticking up out of the food, especially the rice. In this case it isn't clear exactly how the food offering was done, nor what happened to the food afterwards.  In the case of food offered to the kami, it is often the case that once the kami have had enough time to partake of the aura of the food—its spiritual essence—the food will then be removed and often consumed by people.  So for Ohoama's funerary offerings, something similar may have happened—possibly with a feast of some kind to which the various nobles were also invited. Along with the offering of food, we are told of a whole list of individuals who gave eulogies—though we aren't told what the content was.  It is likely that these eulogies were largely ritual utterances—stock phrasing by the participant to demonstrate their active performance of the rituals, rather than a deeply thought sermon about the sovereign.  After all, this seems to have gone on at a rather constant pace for the next several days.  The ritual order seems to have stayed the same, with priests and nuns kicking things off with lamentations in the courtyard, and various nobles presenting their eulogy.  The third day, the 29th, was the same. On the fourth day, the 30th, the last day of the month, the priests and nuns raised lament, and the eulogies were given by a Baekje prince in exile, on behalf of his father, as well as the various Miyatsuko of the various provinces.  In addition there were all performances of all manner of singing and dancing—which makes it sound more like a wake than anything else. With the close of the 9th month, we have a break in the tale of Ohoama's funeral, as the narrative switches over to the next part of the Chronicles covering the reign of Uno no Sarara, aka Jitou Tennou.  The first order of business—other than telling us who Uno no Sarara was and covering some of her history—was to deal with the Prince Ohotsu conspiracy.  So we see Prince Ohotsu arrested, along with 30 conspirators.  Prince Ohotsu was killed at his residence, where his wife and consort ran to him and took her own life as well.  That all happened the 2nd and 3rd days of the 10th month.  The 30 co-conspirators were apparently held for about twenty-seven days while the court debated what to do with them.  Finally, the decree was made to pardon all except Toki no MIchidzukuri, who was only banished instead of executed, and the monk Heng-sin, who was exiled to a temple in Hida, over on Kyushu.  The month after that, Ohotsu's sister, Royal Princess Ohoku, returned to the capital from Ise Shrine where she had been serving as the Shrine Princess—though we aren't told who replaced her. And so it isn't until the twelfth month that we see what appears to be the rites for Ohoama's passing seem to resume.  This takes the form of a universal great assembly held in Ohoama's name at the Five temples, listed as Daikandaiji, Asukadera, Kawaradera, Toyoradera in Woharida, and Sakadadera.  This is an interesting list, as one would have expected that the rites would have occurred at the National Temples established previously—for more on the National temples, we talked about that back in Episode 142.. Daikandaiji, Asukadera, and Kawaradera were, of course, national temples.  Yakushiji is not mentioned, probably because it was still under construction.  At this date it's only been dedicated, and we won't see it show up in the Chronicles until 688—a year and change from the current gathering.  Toyoradera was the nunnery of Toyoura temple, and Sakada temple appears to be another nunnery, formerly known as Kongoji.  It is said to have been in MInabuchi, and ruins of a temple are found in the southeast of Asuka, in an area known today as, funnily enough, Sakada.  There is also a modern temple known as Kongoji nearby, though I can't tell if there is any connection between the two other than the name— whether its a true successor temple or just given that name because of the proximity of the ruins. Either way, in this phase of the funerary rites, we have a combination of temples and nunneries involved.  I wonder if that was so that men and women could gather in spaces for them.  Either way, it is clear that these rites  were held specifically to build merit for Ohoama.  This was probably also the intent behind the actions of the court a week later, when presents of cloth and silk were made to orphans, as well as childless, widowed, and elderly men and women of the capital—those who didn't have someone else to look after them or who were assumed to not have a stable income. Come the first day of the new year of 687, we see a return to the palace of temporary interment, and this time it is in a new and different fashion.  We are told that the Crown Prince, accompanied by ministers and public functionaries, proceeded to the Palace of Temporary Interments and made lament.  We are told that it was the Nagon, Fuwe no Ason no Miaruji, who performed the eulogy, after which everyone once again raised a lament.  Then the common people raised a lament.  Then Ki no Ason and others of the High Stewards of the Palace made food offerings.  After this, the Uneme of the Steward's department raised a lament and then music was performed by the officials of the Department of Music. This clearly indicates an involved ceremony, with set roles and functions.  It is being headed by Ohoama's son, Crown Prince Kusakabe, and attended by all the high ministers, and it is being held on the first of the year in place of other festivities for that day.  Other than the timing, the basic pattern of events is similar to the other rituals of lamentation.  .  The contents of the ceremony might be different, and it was always someone new who was chosen to give the formal eulogy, but there does seem to be some ritual and pattern to the rites performed.  For major ceremonies, we are told of the Crown Prince, the ministers, and the various public functionaries who are there, in attendance, but in other instances we are just told of who is providing the lamentations or the eulogy.  For example, on the 5th day of the first month—four months after the big ceremony, we are told that everyone—Crown Prince down to the common people—proceeded to the Palace of temporary interment and made lamentations. Either way, the period for the next year and change is filled with various ceremonies either at the palace of temporary interment, where Ohoama's body lay in state, or elsewhere in the capital, such as at various temples.  There were also various gifts from the court.  All of this was as much political spectacle as it was grieving.  There are some suggestions that, according to Confucian tradition, a son was expected to mourn the loss of his father for up to three years.  So perhaps that is part of what was happening—the royal family was participating in some costly signaling to both raise Ohoama—and thus, themselves—up on a pedestal and to try to demonstrate the virtue of Crown Prince Kusakabe.  After all, the Queen and her son had been effectively running the government before Ohoama had passed, so it wasn't like there was any actual change and only minor risk.  The timeframe also allowed the court time to send messengers out to inform the far reaches of the archipelago of Ohoama's passing and give them time to come and do homage.  They even sent messengers to Silla, no doubt to both let them know about what had happened and possibly to solicit a condolence embassy.  All of that would also play into the pageantry and mythmaking of the moment, further strengthening the position of the Yamato court, which was, of course, under the control of Uno no Sarara and her son. And so we see numerous, and quite public, displays.  Besides the lamentations and the eulogies, we see repeated gifts to the underprivileged, like giving gifts of coarse and floss silk to those residents of the Capital who were at least 80 years old, as well as to invalids with little hope as well as to the poor people who had no other means to support themselves.  All of it being done in Ohoama's name, even though the reputation no doubt was actually accruing to his son and widow. In the third month we see a special mention: an ornamental chaplet of flowers, known as a mikage, was offered at the Palace of Temporary Interment.  Today, flowers are often found in abundance at Japanese funerals.  Certain flowers may be "gifted" to the deceased as a last gift from mourners, and large, elaborate flower constructions are often used to decorate the funeral parlor where the corpse is laid out.  Groups and individuals may pay exorbitant sums to place flowers with a name card indicating who donated it, and some flowers may be for the grieving family to take home.  There are meanings behind the type of flowers, and often white flowers are preferred, as white is often seen as the color of death.  Some of this appears to be influenced by the West, but flowers have long been symbols and used in various ceremonies and rites.  It is possible that some of this was influenced by Buddhist and Tang court rituals.  Or maybe they just wanted something that was sweet smelling to help cover up the inevitable odor that no doubt resulted from leaving a body out for about six months at that point. Whatever the purpose, we aren't given too many details on just what this floral display was.  Aston calls the "mikage" a "chaplet" and Bentley simply describes it as decorative flowers placed at the mogari palace—the palace of temporary interment.  Once the flowers were placed, then Taji no Mabito no Maro performed the ceremony of the eulogy. Next, in the 5th month, we see the Crown Prince and various government officials once again involved.  This time they were accompanied by the chiefs of the Hayato and the Ata of Ohosumi, accompanied by their people, advancing and providing a eulogy.  The Hayato and the Ata were both indigenous groups of people from southern Kyushu, who were considered to be outside of the Yamato polity, with distinct cultural differences.  It is unclear if they were ethnically Wa people.  Evidence from that area suggests that the people there, whatever their ethnicity, had adopted many of the Yayoi and Kofun cultural life-ways.  This was not without some differences, such as distinct burial practices, such as underground burial chambers.  Hayato were also known in Yamato for their shields, which are often depicted as long, thin pentagonal shapes with red, white, and black figural paintings. The propaganda-slash-merit making continued over the next few months.  In the 6th month we see an amnesty, where criminals were pardoned, and in the 7th month the court unilaterally cancelled out any interest on debts contracted in the year 685 or earlier.  In cases where the debtors already owed service to their creditors, for some reason, they made it so that the creditors could not demand that they provide additional service.  People still had to pay back the balance, but they didn't have to pay back anything extra. The next ceremony at the palace of temporary interment wasn't for about three months later, in the 8th month of 687.  We are told that offerings of food were made, and that only awokimono—green things—were offered.  Bentley translates this passage to say that it was the feast of first fruits, the Niinamesai, and they do use the character for "namé", but not the full name.  As for "Awokimono" – Aston translates this as plain, boiled rice, and says it is meant that it was without meat of any kind.  Indeed, the characters appear to be for blue or green cooked rice.  There is another reading for "Awokimono" as "Hijikioono", and Aston suggests that there may have been some hijiki, or seaweed, involved.  Regardless this appears to have been specifically a funerary tradition. A day after the food was offered—and we aren't told who did that—the elderly people of the capital, both men and women—some possibly with new duds thanks to the silk they had received earlier—came and made lamentation west of the bridge.  I suspect that this means they didn't enter the actual courtyard where the palace of temporary interment was set up, but simply gathered on the west side of the Asuka River, which flowed past the west side of the courtyard.  Later that month, we see another Buddhist ceremony.  Fujiwara no Ason no Ohoshima and Kibumi no Muraji no Ohotomo invited 300 Buddhist dignitaries, known as Ryuuzou and Daitoku, to Asukadera.  There they gave each one of them the present of a kesa—a Buddhist sash worn as part of their vestments.   Kesa were typically stitched together from cloth donated by Buddhist laypersons, and we are told that these kesa were made from the garments of the late sovereign.  The language of the decree itself was apparently so painful—Aston translates it as pathetic—that it couldn't be fully set forth.  That sounds to me like someone forgot to write it down. Eleven days after the assembly at Asukadera, a national Buddhist feast was sponsored at all of the Temples in the capital.  The day after that, a feast was sponsored at the mogari palace. Later that same month, Silla ambassadors arrived at the archipelago.  The Dazai, the viceroy of Tsukushi, met with them and informed them of what had happened.  It is likely that they had left before any word had reached the peninsula, so this was the first they heard of it.  Nonetheless, they all put on mourning clothes, turned to face the East, and bowed three times and raised lamentations.  This was all being done in Kyushu, but nonetheless it was clearly important to the people who were recording these interactions. A similar note in the record appears on the 23rd day of the first month of the following year, where we are told that Ohoama's death was announced to the Silla ambassador, Gim Sangnim, and his colleagues.  They, in turn, made their lament three times.  It is possible that these are records of the same event, and I even wonder if one was recorded on the date they arrived and the other was recorded on the date that they were formally told what was happening.  Either that, or the events of the 9th month of 687 were an informal notice, so that they could get ready, after which they traveled the three months and change to Asuka, where they then were given the formal notification. Moving on to finish out the year 687: on the 22nd day of the 10th month, the Crown Prince and government officials, along with all of the governors and Kuni no MIyatsuko—and not forgetting the common people—all began work on the sovereign's tomb.  This is one of the few tombs that we have some confidence in, though it isn't a keyhole shaped kofun like many others from previous eras.  Today it looks mostly like a round hill, but originally it seems to have been an eight-sided tomb with five distinct levels.  Eight sides suggests a Buddhist influence, as eight is an auspicious number, such as in the 8-fold path.  I can't help but wonder if the five levels were connected to concepts of five in Confucian and Daoist teachings.  For instance, there was the idea of five Confucian virtues as well as the Wuxing, or Gogyou, where we have five specific elements.  Given the importance and influence of continental thinking at the time, neither one would surprise me. The tomb would take almost a year to complete, which almost doesn't seem like enough time given everything that they did.  It is possible that they had already prepped much of what they needed and that the 10th month of 687 was simply the date they broke ground, but either way it was an impressive feat. Meanwhile, as the construction was ongoing, the public displays of mourning continued.  Once again, new year's day celebrations of 688 were postponed in favor of public mourning, with the Crown Prince and all of the ministers making their lamentations on the first day of the year, followed by a company of priests the following day. On the 8th day of the first month of the year we are told that there was a public great congregation of priests held at Yakushiji.  This is the first official event held at Yakushiji, and so presumably the temple was now finished—or at least finished enough.  Since Ohoama isn't mentioned, it is certainly possible that this wasn't directly connected to the ceremonies around the official mourning of Ohoama.  On the other hand, Yakushiji was commissioned by Ohoama for the health of his wife, Uno no Sarara, so I have a hard time thinking that there weren't any connections at all. In the second month of 688, we get a decree that has a few different interpretations.  The decree states that, "in the future, on all days of national mourning, it is absolutely necessary that abstinence be practiced."  Bentley translates this to mean that there would be a feast on the day of national mourning every year after.  The key contention appears to be whether or not the day of mourning was a monthly or annual thing.  The court appears to have been creating a national holiday around the memory of Ohoama, and it may have chosen the second month for that day of mourning and remembrance.  Alternatively, this was for a day of mourning each month of the current year.  The wording is vague.  It is like the question of whether or not "Bi-weekly" means twice a week or once every two weeks, and I don't know that there is any consensus.  Still, it is interesting that they created their own holiday to remember Ohoama, and as far as I can tell this is the first such example of a holiday being used to remember a person in this way. Once again on the 22nd day of the third month, flowers were again presented at the palace of temporary interment.  This was only two days different from when the mikage had been set up in the previous year, so it would seem that the timing was significant—possibly because it was spring and the flowers were blooming.  Fujiwara no Ason no Ohoshima, the same individual who had helped gather the various priests together at Asukadera to hand out kesa made of the sovereign's own garments, presented the eulogy. The ceremonies are then put on hold for a bit.  There is an account from the 11th day of the 6th month where prisoners guilty of capital crimes would have their punishment mitigated one degree while those in prison for lighter offenses would be pardoned altogether.  In addition, only half of the commuted taxes were to be levied.  This might have been more merit-working for Ohoama or it may have been because the nation itself was undergoing a drought and they were seeking the Buddha's favor to bring the rains. Once again in the 8th month we see offerings of food are made, and a lament raised inside the palace of temporary interment.  This time the eulogy was performed by Ohotomo no Sukune no Yasumaro.  The day after that, Prince Ise was given commands regarding how the upcoming funeral was to be handled, which was to happen three months later. The 11th month kicked off with the Crown prince and the ministers once more going to the palace of temporary interment, this time on the 4th day of the month.  They had with them guests from the "frontier lands" as Aston notes—Bentley says foreign countries.  Offerings of food were made, and the Tatefushi dance was performed.  This was a dance with shields and swords, according to later records.  It seems that the dancers also wore armor, or something to approximate armor.  All of the ministers then advanced, each in turn, and pronounced a eulogy, with each recounting the services that their ancestors had rendered to the throne. The following day, there was further ceremony as over 190 Emishi brought tribute in on their backs, and pronounced a eulogy for the departed sovereign. Six days later, on the 11th day of the 11th month, Fuse no Ason no Miaruji and Ohotomo no Sukune no Mimiyuki both pronounced eulogies, and then Tahema no Mabito no Chitoko recited, as a eulogy, the succession to the throne of the royal ancestors.  And when that was finished, Ohoama's body was finally placed in the Ohouchi tomb and the tomb was sealed. And with that, the sovereign was put to rest, after over two years of mourning and ceremony, specifically designed to put on display the court's apparent grief.  Whether they were actually grieved or not, the importance was the performance of grief through the rituals set forth by the state.  Individuals and groups demonstrated their loyalty through their participation.  Noble families used the platform to recount their service and thus demonstrate their own history and pedigree and thus why they were deserving of their status in the court. Furthermore, during all this ceremony around the funerary arrangements, to try to  also have an ascension ceremony for the new sovereign was probably a little too much to try and push through.  It would have also meant that they would been holding a ceremony that should be joyful and august under the pall of the mourning period.  For the Crown Prince to don the robes of office while his father's body lay in the courtyard was probably, as they say, a bad look.  And, as I mentioned earlier, it wasn't like it was making any real, practical difference.  The ship of state was hardly rudderless, with Kusakabe and his mother both guiding it through the various ceremonies. Sure enough, in the following year, 689, the new year ceremonies were no longer about mourning and lamentation.  The queen gave an audience to all the lands in the Front Hall, and the following day the Ministry of Education presented 80 wooden staves, presumably for an old form of the Setsubun festival.  Today, Setsubun, the day before Spring, is celebrated with soybeans, which are tossed at characters in oni masks, and then inside the house.  The cries ring out "Oni ga soto" – "Demons Out" and then again, "Fuku ga uchi" – "Good luck inside!"  Thus evil spirits are kept at bay and good fortune is welcomed into the home.  In the older version of a similar ritual, it seems that wooden staves were used to symbolically drive the demons out, rather than just a handful of auspicious beans. The first month of year 689 continued to look a lot like previous years, prior to Ohoama's death.  There was a banquet given to the Ministers, and gifts of clothing were handed out to them.  And then, halfway through the month, the various officials brought presents of firewood to the palace.  And then a meal was given to the various public functionaries. A few days after that, Queen Uno left to visit the Yoshino palace for a few days, returning two days later. There is something that is not mentioned in all of this that I suspect was happening.  First of all, they had no doubt torn down the palace of Temporary Interment, and they were likely preparing for Crown Prince Kusakabe's ascension.  There are some that suspect Prince Kusakabe was waiting until three years had passed before taking the throne, mimicking a tradition sometimes observed on the continent, but nothing is explicitly said. Instead, we see that on the 24th day of the 3rd month there was another amnesty across the realm,  and we are explicitly told that crimes that hadn't been pardoned in ordinary amnesties were also excepted in this amnesty.  Amnesties typically seem to be part of merit-making to either prevent disaster or to celebrate something auspicious.  Was this clearing the way for the ascension ceremony to take place?  Or had something befallen the royal family? We aren't given many details, but on the 13th day of the 4th month, we are simply told that Crown Prince Kusakabe died.  We aren't told that he had previously been ill, or that anything in particular had happened.  It is just a simple line in the text.  And yet, this must have had tremendously serious consequences.  I think we can fairly safely assume that he was prepared to ascend the throne—unless he was thinking of pulling something like Naka no Oe and running things from behind the scenes.  However, there is plenty of evidence that Uno no Sarara was more likely to be the one to step back and be the power in the shadow.  She had operated from that position before. Whatever the plan was, clearly that plan was no more.  Crown Prince Kusakabe was dead, and his only heir was still a young child.  He also had no brothers to take the throne.  The Chronicles don't mention it, but this must have been a moment of incredible weakness for the court and the Queen.  History as we know it could have turned out very differently from this point. Also, sidebar—Prince Kusakabe's death is recorded on the 13th day of the 4th month.  While 13 would not necessarily be an inauspicious day until the Western superstition was introduced in recent times, the number 4 has long been associated with death because the pronunciation, "Shi" is the same as—or at least very similar to—the pronunciation of the character for death.  This is also the case in Chinese, and so the number four is often avoided and seen as unlucky.  Sometimes hotels will skip both the 4th and 13th floors in Asia to avoid any inauspicious vibes.  In Japanese, the numbers 4—"Shi" and seven—"Shichi"—will often be pronounced with their kun'yomi readings, so "yon" and "nana" respectively.  So I just find it rather an unfortunate coincidence that Crown Prince Kusakabe died on the 13th day of the 4th month.  Yikes. Anyway, if there was any wavering or grief by Uno no Sarara, it isn't mentioned in the Chronicles.  They continue to march on.  Later that same month, Prince Kasuga passed away.  Prince Kasuga was a non-royal prince, and the death of Prince Kasuga and the Crown Prince were met with an equal lack of fanfare or explanation.  Compare to the death of Prince Ohotsu, who was given an entire eulogy about how he was really well liked. Instead, the Chronicle simply moves on.  The rest of the year passes by as though nothing had happened.  The government continued with Uno no Sarara at its head.  In the first day of the first month of the following year, Uno no Sarara formally ascended to the royal dignity in a ceremony where Mononobe no Maro set up the shields, Nakatomi no Ohoshima recited a prayer for the blessings of Heaven, and Imbe no Shikofuchi delivered the divine seal, sword, and mirror to her majesty.  At that point all of the ministers and government officials made their obeisance in turn, clapping their hands as  they did so. One has to wonder if this ceremony wasn't a little bittersweet, given everything that had happened. A few things about the ceremony to note.  First are the three families mentioned:  Despite the fact that the Mononobe house had been defeated by the Soga centuries back, here they stand in their traditional role as soldiers, raising up the shield.  Then we see Nakatomi no Ohoshima—earlier mentioned as Fujiwara no Ohoshima—as the director of the Ministry of Kami matters, handling the ceremony.  And then there is the Imbe, in some ways the rival to the Nakatomi and their descendants, the Fujiwara, who is handling the regalia. Also of note is that the three regalia here are not the jewel, sword, and mirror, but the seal, sword, and mirror.  We mentioned this many episodes back when we had seen these same three used for the ascension ceremony, and noted then that a royal seal appears to be used, rather than mention of a jewel.  The character used, on the continent, referred to the imperial seal of the dynasty, which itself would have been carved into jade, or a jewel.  And in Japan the character is also said to refer to the "Yasakani-magatama", the sacred jewel.  So was it the jewel, and they just called it the seal?  Or is that a later attribution to try and maintain the concept that the three regalia remained the same?  I couldn't honestly say, but either way we see the concept of these three regalia as central to the ceremony. And with that, Uno no Sarara, known to us as Jitou Tennou, ascended the throne.  She would continue the process of making updates to the court and to the laws and regulations.  She would also see the creation of the Fujiwara palace and accompanying city—designed as the first permanent capital city in all of Japan.  She would also take a hard line with Silla and make her mark on the world stage, as well.  But we'll talk about that in future episodes. And so, until next time, 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.

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Episode 159 of the Marky Worthington Comedy Podcast, Call Back with Sam Silla we chat about the comedy scene, news articles, not skipping leg day, his first impressions of the Canberra comedy scene, stories form the past and more.  Originally recorded: 30th of January 2021 Originally released: 1st and 15th of February 2021 Website: https://markycomedy.com Thanks for listening. Intro and Outro music: Grand Duke - The Custodian YouTube: https://youtu.be/mbLaaEoHiKc

Another episode, another new reign--same old problems.  This episode we talk about what happened after Ohoama, aka Temmu Tenno, passed away.  We'll touch on the fact that it wasn't entirely a smooth transition, and there are certainly hints that not everyone was in agreement as to what should happen.  And then there were other problems, such that the heir apparent never actually took the throne.  So what happened? For more information on the main characters in this episode, check out the blogpost at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-147  (Also apologies ahead of time--my voice was not in great shape, and that may come through on the audio) Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is episode 147: Here We Go Again   Iki no Hakatoko looked around the spacious room and recognized many of the faces he saw there.  There were various nobles from around the court present.  All of them were familiar, even if they were not the closest of acquaintances—they ran in similar circles and were connected to each other over various political positions.  Some were connected by marriage, some were just allies, and others were almost rivals—but they were all there for a common cause. The open chamber had been buzzing as all of those elites of Yamato talked about why they might have gathered.  Of course, the big news was the death of the sovereign.  Ohoama had passed away, and the court was formally in mourning. And yet the government seemed stable.    The Queen was at the helm, guiding t he government, and her son was beside her as the Crown Prince.  So what was everyone doing here, gathering for what they could only assume were… other options? Finally, the buzzing started to die down as the doors to the chamber were closed and guards posted.  And then, the host for the discussion arrived, as Royal Prince Ohotsu stepped out and greeted all of his soon-to-be co-conspirators….     This episode, at long last, we are about to dive into a new reign.  And if you haven't picked up by now, this, the end of the 7th century, was a turbulent time.  Although the court had been instituting reforms to be more like the courts on the continent—and it wasn't like Ohoama died without any heir whatsoever—things were still unstable.  I know, shocker, right? So what happened? Let's go over the history some, and the main players, and then we can see what happened and the aftermath. Before that, however, let's talk about what we might expect to have happened, if everything had worked like clockwork. While Ohoama passed away in 686, it wasn't as if he hadn't made any plans.  His wife and Queen, Uno no Sarara, was deeply entrenched in governmental affairs, and their son, Prince Kusakabe, had been named Crown Prince in 681.  This meant that both were in positions of significant power within the current government.  All things being equal, and assuming a Confucian model, one would expect that upon Ohoama's passing, Kusakabe would step up and take the reins of the government, ascending to the throne as the new ruler.  Uno would oversee the transition and take her place as the Queen Mother, remaining in the palace and helping to shepherd the new rule, while one of Kusakabe's wives—probably Abe-hime, who, like her half-sister Uno, was also a daughter of Naka no Oe—would become his queen. And yet that is not what happened.  Prince Kusakabe does not show up in our list of sovereigns, and we are told he never ascended the throne.  Instead, his mother, Uno no Sarara, came to power.  So what exactly happened?  Why would she not have handed over power to her only son and set him up on the throne?  To understand all of that, I think there are several things we need to discuss, first of them being just how tenuous and fragile transitions like this were. If you've been listening to the podcast for a while, you might be nodding in agreement with this statement: for more than a century, at this point, whatever high-minded ideals the rulers of Yamato may have espoused, their path to the throne had been covered in blood.  Let's roll back to the events of 587.  We talked about this in Episode 91, when the Soga and Mononobe families had each lined up behind different aspirants to the royal throne.  The Mononobe were a powerful family, known to be warriors for the throne, and the head of the Mononobe, the Ohomuraji, Moriya, was one of the most influential people at court.  However, in recent years, the Soga family had been on the rise.  Soga no Iname had married his daughters to members of the royal family, and he and his son, Umako, were known as the Ohoomi.  The Mononobe were not having it with these uppity newcomers, but the Soga seem to have built their power, anyway, likely using their connections to the continent to do so.  In a series of succession disputes, the Soga came out on top, defeating the Mononobe and eventually killing Moriya.  It was a bloody fight, but eventually the Soga's royal relatives won out. This brought Hasebe Wakasasagi, aka Sushun Tennou, to the throne.  For a time, Wakasasagi and Soga no Umako ruled the land, but eventually Wakasasagi grew suspicious of Umako—perhaps jealous of his power.  He considered taking him out, but Umako caught wind and had the sovereign assassinated, instead.  Umako then put his own niece, Kashikiya Hime, on the throne, where most know her as Suiko Tennou. Kashikiya was no stranger to the court, having served as the wife of her own half-brother, Nunakura, aka Bidatsu Tennou.  Kashikya is thought to have been a compromise candidate, chosen specifically to avert any further power struggles.  Certainly, Umako did not want a repeat performance of what had just happened with Wakasasagi.  And though she reigned, power was apparently shared between Soga no Umako, Kashikiya Hime, and Kashikiya Hime's nephew—Umako's grandnephew—Crown Prince Umayado, aka the legendary Shotoku Taishi.   By all rights, it seemed like things should have gone smoothly.  Umako, the eldest, would pass away to be succeeded by his niece, and it would make sense that after Kashikiya Hime's passing, Umayado would assume the throne.  Instead, Umayado would be the first to pass, creating uncertainty as to the future of the throne.  Then Umako would follow several years later.  Finally, Suiko would pass away soon thereafter. So, in about six years the three most powerful people in court all passed away.  Soga no Umako's son, Soga no Emishi, was still coming out from under his father's shadow.  Furthermore, it was not clear who should sit the throne—should it be Prince Yamashiro no Oe, the son of the Crown Prince, Umayado?  After all, his father would have likely inherited the throne and then it would have no doubt been passed to him.  And yet, there was another contender: Prince Tamura.  Ultimately Soga no Emishi backed Prince Tamura, a man with ties to Nunakura through both his father and mother, and yet who was not truly a royal prince in that his own parents had never held the throne.  Then again, neither had Umayado.  Eventually, Prince Yamashiro no Oe would back down from his claim to avoid bloodshed—and yet blood would be shed anyway.  When Prince Tamura died,  in an apparent bid to keep Soga power and quash any resistance before it started up, Soga no Emishi had Tamura's wife, Takara hime, aka Kougyoku Tennou, installed—but Prince Yamashiro no Ohoe was still alive, and his heirs were still out there.  Soga no Emishi appeared to be content, but his son and heir, Soga no Iruka, was not. And when his father was ill and Iruka had a free hand, he ordered the destruction of Prince Yamashiro no Oe, presumably to avoid a future challenge to the throne and thus to the Soga family's hold on power. This move shocked many, and rather than preventing conflict, it seems to have stirred up ill feelings against the Soga for their heavy hand in the politics of the period.  This would lead Prince Naka no Ohoe and several co-conspirators to rise up, killing Soga no Iruka in court, and then attacking his father, Soga no Emishi, in their home.  See episode 106 for more on that, known as the Isshi Incident.  Naka no Ohoe and his supporters would take their place in the court, but Naka no Ohoe would not ascend to the throne, himself – at least not yet.  Instead, he took the position of Crown Prince, and his uncle, Prince Karu,aka Kotoku Tennou,  took the throne.  However, that still left a loose end.  Prince Furubito no Oe, who had appeared to be the favorite for the throne under the Soga, was still alive.  Furubito no Oe was the son of Tamura and a Soga consort—Hotei no Iratsume, the daughter of Soga no Umako.  Although the Chronicles do not mention it, he seems to have been well placed to be Crown Prince in place of Naka no Oe, especially in a Soga dominated court.  Without that backing, however, his claim may not have been quite so strong.  He had gone into exile in Yoshino, but opponents of Naka no Oe's faction and their bloody coup began to use him as a rallying point.  It is unclear if Prince Furubito himself had any ambitions, but the fact remained that he was a threat, nonetheless, and Prince Naka no Oe had him taken out. By controlling things from behind the throne, Prince Naka no Oe seems to have been able to keep things fairly stable.  When his uncle Karu  passed away, the throne went back to his mother, who is known as Saimei Tennou in her second reign, but Naka no Oe was still in a place of considerable power, and the continuity likely helped keep things on track.  Then Takara Hime passed away in the midst of a national crisis—the mobilization to support Baekje against the Silla-Tang alliance.  That military effort turned out to be less than successful, but by that point, there does not seem to have been much question over who was in charge – it was finally Naka no Oe's turn to take the throne, and he did, as Tenji Tennou. And so it wasn't until Naka no Oe's own death that we again see major violence.  Naka no Oe's brother, Ohoama, is said to have been the Crown Prince, but then Naka no Oe's son, Ohotomo, came of age.  He was made the Dajo Daijin and supported by the most powerful nobles in court.   It is clear that there were divergent factions within the court itself, though, with some supporting Ohotomo and others supporting Ohoama.  In the midst of this, Ohoama chose to bow out, at least while his brother Naka no Oe was still on the throne.  However, Ohotomo and his supporters could not leave Ohoama out there as a loose end.  They knew that he still had a claim and supporters, and they started to make plans to move against him after Naka no Oe's death.  They were too slow, however—Ohoama caught word and moved against the court, instead.  In a bloody struggle that upended the politics of the court one more time, Ohoama came to the throne.  That struggle, the Jinshin no Ran, was covered in detail in episodes 129 to 132. So if we look back we can see that for all of the thoughts of inheritance and legitimacy, most of those who had ascended the throne had done so by eliminating their rivals—either before or just after they assumed the royal mantle.  As such, this is something that Ohoama was, himself, quite concerned about, and he took several steps to try to avoid a repeat of this scenario. First, and perhaps somewhat confusingly, he ensured that those in positions of authority in the government were largely tied by blood to the royal family.  The royal and non-royal princes were all nominally related in one way, shape, or form.  If nothing else this meant that the nobility— those elites without direct blood ties to the throne—were not, themselves, gaining the kind of power and authority that had previously been given out to families like the Ohotomo, the Mononobe, and the Soga.  We don't even hear that much about the relatives of Nakatomi no Kamatari, who had achieved such heights under Naka no Oe that he had become the Naidaijin, the great minister of the interior. One might think that this system still had issues, however.  After all, each princely line had their own tie to a previous sovereign, and we've certainly seen times where a sovereign came in out of left field, with a nominal, but hardly convincing, connection to the throne.  This is particularly true in a time when succession was still not necessarily a strictly patrilineal custom; where it was not unusual for a senior family member to take up the mantle of leadership, rather than just the first-born son of the current ruler. And that seems to be why Ohoama also held the Yoshino conference with his immediate family members in 679.  This included his Queen Consort, Uno; the Royal Prince Kusakabe, the Royal Prince Ohotsu, the Royal Prince Takechi, the Royal Prince Kawashima, the Royal Prince Osakabe, and the Royal Prince Shiki.  These were sons of both Ohoama and Naka no Oe, but they were all considered to be loyal insiders of the royal family.  Ohoama had them swear to work together and to protect one another.  And yet, as we shall see, that promise does not seem to have survived Ohoama himself. So let's talk about some of these characters, now that we are here at another question of succession.  We'll start with the Queen herself, Uno no Sarara. Uno was born in 645, the daughter of Naka no Oe and a consort, Wochi no Iratsume, daughter of Soga no Yamada no Ishikawa no Maro.  Ishikawa no Maro had been a powerful ally of Naka no Oe, assisting with the overthrow of his own uncle and cousin, Soga no Emishi and Soga no Iruka.  In turn, he seems to have become the head of the Soga family.  Despite the rhetoric that the Soga family was destroyed, it was more that the power of Emishi and Iruka was broken.  Ishikawa no Maro had parlayed his assistance into another means to access power at the court, and married his own daughter to Naka no Oe.  That worked until it didn't—enemies in court slandered Ishikawa no Maro and Naka no Oe had him killed in 649. Wochi no Iratsume would have three children with Naka no Oe.  The eldest was Princess Ota, followed by Princess Uno, and finally Prince Takeru.  There is a theory that she died in 651, giving birth to Prince Takeru.  Prince Takeru himself would only survive a short while passing away in 658.  He was only seven years old. Both Princess Ohota and Princess Uno were married off to their uncle, Prince Ohoama.  Princess Ohota was the elder of the two, and bore Princess Ohoku and Prince Ohotsu, whom we'll discuss in a bit.  However, Princess Ohota passed away in 667, during the reign of Naka no Oe, and so did not play as big a role in the politics of the day as her younger sister. Uno, on the other hand, appears to have been Ohoama's ride-or-die.  They were married when she was only thirteen years old, and she followed him when he and Naka no Oe went to Kyushu to oversee the war on the peninsula.  It was there that she gave birth to her first and only son in 662.  She left the court behind to follow Ohoama to Yoshino, along with their son, Prince Kusakabe.  She then followed Ohoama on his lightning blitz through the mountains over to the east.  It is said that while he went on to the front, she maintained a place in the relative safety of the land of Mie.  From there she likely organized the rearguard and would have been involved with the back-end logistics.  She is also said to have made particular entreaties to the deities of Ise shrine, and may have had a hand in raising the Shrine to greater prominence during the reign of Ohoama and later. A key note is the fact that, when Ohoama became ill, and could not effectively manage the affairs of state, Uno stepped in and made sure that things continued to operate.  And so, when Ohoama finally passed away, his projects were not simply left hanging—his queen and consort, Uno no Sarara, was there to see that everything remained on track. As queen, Uno's son, Prince Kusakabe, was the favorite to succeed his father.  In fact, in 681, he was named Crown Prince at the age of 19.  Kusakabe had even married his own aunt, Princess Abe—his mother's half-sister.  Princess Abe was another daughter of Naka no Oe and a Soga related consort; in this case it was Wochi no Iratsume's younger sister, Mehi no Iratsume—sometimes called Sakurai no Iratsume.  I should note that Princess Abe was only about 20 years old in 681, only a year older than the Crown Prince, so it isn't like there was a huge age gap between them, even if he was technically marrying his own aunt.  Still, they had already had a child between them the year before, in 680—this was Princess Hidaka or Niimi.  Two years later, in 683, they had another child, Prince Karu, and later we know that they had a third child, Princess Kibi.  This is all a pretty good start for a future sovereign, and Kusakabe seems to have been on track to succeed his father. By all rights, it seems that Kusakabe should have stepped up in 686 to take the throne, but that was not to be.  Instead, his mother, Queen Uno no Sarara, would retain her place at the head of the government.  It is possible that this was meant to be merely temporary —there were still many things to be taken care of.  With Ohoama's death there were numerous rituals having to do with his interment, and the Crown Prince, Kusakabe, appears to have been integral to those events.  Whereas we may have previously seen powerful nobles step up, with the increased influence of Confucianism, it makes sense that a son would be responsible for ensuring that things were taken care of.   There was also the issue of a new palace that would need to be built, and the court would need to prepare for the various enthronement ceremonies.  After all, Naka no Oe himself wasn't formally enthroned for three years into his supposed reign. And just like his grandfather, as Crown Prince, Kusakabe maintained a powerful portfolio at the court that would still allow him to have a heavy hand on the rudder of the ship of state.  In fact, had things gone differently, then the Chroniclers may have simply counted these early years as part of Kusakabe's reign, as they had done with Naka no Oe. And all that would have been great—except that, despite all those nice family agreements at Yoshino, there were others who seem to have had designs on the throne. The first claim that likely could have been made was by Prince Takechi.  Prince Takechi—written as Takaichi, like the district of the same name—was technically the eldest son of Ohoama.  He had been called to Ohoama's side during the Jinshin no Ran, and given nominal control over the troops waiting to cross the pass from Ohowari into Afumi.  This was likely more of a sinecure, however; Prince Takechi was still quite young, and while the position would no doubt teach him much about organization and leadership, I certainly hope that there were more experienced individuals assisting him. However, for all of that, Prince Takechi had a major strike against him In the form of his parentage.  Although he was Ohoama's eldest son, his mother was not a royal princess.  Instead she was Amago no Iratsume, the daughter of the powerful head of the Munakata family, Munakata no Tokusen. Munakata was a powerful area on the northwest coast of Tsukushi—modern Kyushu.  It is famous for the three Munakata shrines.  The outer, or Hetsu, shrine is on the land, but the middle shrine is on the island of Ohoshima, 11 kilometers from the Hetsu shrine.  Then the Oki, or deep sea, shrine is on the aptly named Okinoshima, another 49 kilometers past that, out in the middle of the Genkai Sea, the body of water between Kyushu, Tsushima, and the Korean peninsula.  Even today, Okinoshima is considered a sacred place, and has never been developed: even today, only those closely associated with the shrine are allowed to set foot there.  Because of that we can see something remarkable, as Okinoshima was held as sacred for hundreds of years, during which time, offerings were regularly made to the kami there, presumably for safe passage across the waters.  These offerings have accumulated over the centuries and serve as a fascinating glimpse back into the history of the shrine and of the relations between the archipelago and the peninsula. The land of Munakata—and by extension the rulers, or Kimi—appear to have had not inconsiderable influence over the trade back and forth across the ocean to the continent.  This is further corroborated by the wealth left at Okinoshima and elsewhere, as well as by large kofun nearby, thought to be those of the ruling family of the area.  This would have no doubt been a powerful and prestigious family to be allied with, especially in Ohoama's role as a Prince.  However, despite all of that, they were not, ultimately, a royal family.   That would seem to have made Prince Takechi ineligible to take the throne—at least without some serious backing and perhaps a little re-working of his parentage. And this brings us to the third eldest son of Ohoama:  Prince Ohotsu.  Unlike Prince Takechi, Prince Ohotsu was the son of a royal princess—Princess Ohota.  In fact, not only was she a royal princess, but she was the sister to Queen Uno.  And Prince Ohotsu was born only a year later than Prince Kusakabe.  Furthermore, during the Jinshin no Ran, Prince Ohotsu was called to Ohoama's side, along with his half-brother, Prince Takechi, and he is specifically mentioned in that role, despite the fact that he was still too young to have played much of a role.  Like Prince Kusakabe, Prince Ohotsu was in his early twenties. So if we put Kusakabe and Ohotsu side-by-side, we can see that they have a lot of similar qualifications. Both were the sons of Ohoama by daughters of Naka no Oe, giving them double-royal lineages.  Their mothers were even full sisters, so they were both great-grandsons of Soga no Ishikawa no Maro, for whatever that means.  Kusakabe was older by a day, but Ohotsu's mother was the eldest of the two sisters.  But for the fact that his mother had passed away, she could possibly have been declared Queen, and Ohotsu might have ended up as Crown Prince, instead of Kusakabe.  Even if something had simply befallen Kusakabe, Ohotsu likely would have been able to step in, especially since Kusakabe had no full-blooded siblings, himself. The reign of Ohoama is replete with examples of Kusakabe, Ohotsu, and Takechi often acting together or being given honors together.  While it is always clear to rank them in that order, it is also clear that all three seemed to hold a place of high esteem.   What we don't seem to see is any ill will between them—but then again, the Chronicles rarely give much attention to anyone who is not the sovereign except to mention them in passing.  As such, we get only a simple sentence in the record, dated barely two weeks after Ohoama's passing, that Prince Ohotsu conspired against the Crown Prince, which is to say, Prince Kusakabe. As is so frustratingly often the case we aren't told how he was conspiring.  Clearly, it refers to succession and we can see that it wouldn't take much for Ohotsu to gather support and place himself on the throne—had that occurred, we likely would see some differences in the Chronicles as well.  However, as it stood, the conspiracy came to naught.  We are told that about one more week later, after the temporary interment of Ohoama's body and the many, many days spent eulogizing him and those around him—seriously, the Chronicles go into way too much detail, which is great for giving us a lot of details on people in the court and their court ranks, but otherwise is mostly paragraphs of names of individuals who were likely important enough for the Chroniclers to ensure that they got at least a mention. It was after that was finished that we are told that Prince Ohotsu's conspiracy was discovered.  He had the support of some thirty nobles, including a priest from Silla and the famous Iki no Muraji no Hakatoko—the one who had written the detailed account of the embassy that had been held under arrest by the Tang court, which we talked about back in Episode 123.  The point is these were people with some amount of clout and who moved in important circles, and for thirty of them to be in Ohotsu's camp might not seem like much, but that doesn't begin to illuminate all of the people that they would have brought with them to the party.  Furthermore, once they went public, who knows how many others might have joined them.  Fortunately for Kusakabe—and unfortunately for Ohotsu—the would-be conspiracy was quashed and quashed hard.  We are told that it was discovered on the second day of the tenth month of 686—less than 30 days after Ohoama's death—and the Queen herself, Uno no Sarara, stepped in and had Ohotsu executed at his own mansion in Wosada.  She then issued a royal decree, stating to everyone that Ohotsu had committed treason, and that the punishment for treason was death.  She also stated that those who had assisted him were also guilty, and should likewise receive the same sentence, except that she was going to be merciful.  And so she ended up pardoning Prince Ohotsu's co-conspirators.  The only exceptions were Toki no Michidzukuri, who was banished to Idzu, and the Silla priest, who was exiled to a temple in Hida.  While we aren't told what roles they played, those two apparently were considered more complicit than the others. A few days later, Prince Ohotsu's sister, Princess Oku, was recalled from her position as the shrine princess of Ise.  It is unclear if this is related, but it seems relevant given the proximity of the two events. There is one other thing I should likely mention, and that seems to come from the Kaifuso.  The Kaifuso is a collection of continental style poetry from the 8th century, similar to the Man'yoshu, but with a different focus.  In both works they often given some description of the authors of the poems, which provide us more information on the people of the time.  For instance, the Kaifuso speaks favorably of Prince Ohotomo, Ohoama's rival in the Jinshin no Ran, and seems more than a little sympathetic towards him and his cause, compared to the way he is treated in the Nihon Shoki's main narrative.  In regards to our current point in the narrative and the treason of Prince Ohotsu the Kaifuso tells us that Prince Ohotsu was ratted out to the Queen by none other than his best friend, Prince Kawashima.  Prince Kawashima was another one of the princes who had been called to Yoshino and who had pledged to work together.  He was not Ohotsu's brother or even half-brother, however, as Kawashima was the son of Naka no Oe.  He was actually a good deal older than Ohoama's actual sons, but apparently trusted by Ohoama at the same time.  The Kaifuso also seems to tell us that Kawashima was rewarded for his efforts by the court. The only problem is that the Nihon Shoki, our primary source, tells us none of this.  Not only is Prince Kawashima not mentioned in regards to the plot, neither is he mentioned as having received any kind of reward or gift by the court.  That doesn't mean the Kaifuso is wrong, but it does raise the question. Similarly, it is just as easy to suggest that the Nihon Shoki itself may be covering up what actually happened.  After all, we only have one side of the story.  What if there wasn't a conspiracy?  Or what if the conspiracy were of the Queen's making, instead.  Prince Ohotsu was clearly popular, and had a reasonable claim to the throne.  That was a threat to her own son's eventual ascension.  It is possible that the Queen, Uno no Sarara, saw a threat and decided to do away with it, herself, keeping her own son's hands relatively clean in the process. Whatever the truth, we likely will never know, and so this is all we have to go on.  Whether it was an actual conspiracy or just the paranoid  concerns of a queen and mother, it is clear that it was not yet enough to have an heir named—there was always the possibility for these things to go sideways and for someone else to jump in with a claim of their own. For all of that, while it seems that Prince Kusakabe was intended to ascend to the throne, for one reason or another, that was delayed.  For some three years, as we've mentioned, Kusakabe and his mother ruled as Queen and Crown Prince, perhaps just because they were handling Ohoama's burial and the creation of a new palace from which Kusakabe himself could then reign.  Unfortunately, it seems that time accomplished what Prince Ohotsu and his conspirators could not, and in 689, Prince Kusakabe passed away.  Shortly thereafter, the Queen, Uno no Sarara, ascended to the throne herself.  This appears to have been because Kusakabe's own son and heir, Royal Prince Karu, was only about 6 years old, having been born in 683, and his daughter was only 9.  So rather than giving up the throne to some other woman's child, Uno no Sarara took the throne for herself.  She is remembered, today, as Jitou Tennou. Jitou Tennou continued to work the initiatives that had been pushed forward during the reign of her husband.  These were projects that she herself was quite familiar with, and in fact, many of the projects are sometimes thought to have been hers, with attribution given to her husband just to give it a greater air of legitimacy.  Ultimately, however, she would oversee some quite formidable changes, even if many of them started in the previous reign or not. And so begins the last reign of the Nihon Shoki, covering the years 686 to 697.  The Nihon Shoki itself wouldn't be complete and presented to the court for another 23 years or so, and yet this is where they chose to leave off.  Perhaps that is because of when it was started, or they just didn't have all the records ready for anything beyond.  They clearly had to end somewhere, after all.  And given that both Ohoama and Uno had such a hand in many of the changes, perhaps it just made sense to end here.  Much of what would come would set the tone for centuries to come. There is one more thing that I want to address in all of this.  We've talked about the lineages of the various individuals, who trace their lineages back to either powerful noble families, like the Soga, or to specific sovereigns.  There is a tendancy by some to talk about Ohoama having started what some would call the Temmu Dynasty.  The idea being that Ohoama's offspring would continue to reign for a time, displacing the offspring of his brother, Naka no Oe.  Then, at a later date, Naka no Oe's line would reassert itself. This seems to be pretty clear cut from a strictly patrilineal viewpoint of royal succession, but I think it ignores a lot about the cultural aspects of the time.  For one thing, descent was about both the father AND the mother, and too often people discount the mother's influence, when, in fact, the mother most likely had more influence in the raising of children than did a royal father.  After all, we don't exactly get a lot of anecdotes about sovereigns spending quality time with their children—and I don't think calling them to help you on campaign counts.  To be fair we get hardly any anecdotes about children.  But we also see that sovereigns were having multiple children with multiple consorts.  Naka no Oe is said to have had about 14 children—possibly more.  I count 17 children for Ohoama.  And we see the ages spread out across the sovereigns' lifetimes, with some children being born at a point that they had not even attained the age of majority by the time their father passed away.  Put another way, look at how Prince Kusakabe was able to marry his own aunt, who was only a year older than he was.  Clearly there was a bit of an age difference between siblings.  I don't imagine that they were being raised by their father, necessarily, but probably by their mothers and the servants at the palace, generally. I would also point out that Ohoama included both his own children as well as children of his brother in the Yoshino conference, further indicating that he did not have any specific intention to entirely shut out the his brother's line. And then there is Uno no Sarara.  She was Ohoama's spouse, but also the daughter of Naka no Oe.  Are we to think that she stopped being her father's daughter because she married someone? That doesn't mean that labels might not be helpful in some ways, but I just don't want to over emphasize the familial or dynastic connections.  Brothers regularly turned on each other, and blood ties were no guarantee of cordial relations.  In fact, only maternal siblings—those with the same mother—were actually considered true siblings in most cases.  That's how they justified so much of what we would consider incest in the royal family in the first place. So while I do think that Ohoama and Uno tweaked the system set up by Naka no Oe and made their own impression on Yamato and, by extension, Japanese culture, I just don't want to read too much into the lineages.  The stories of politics and royal succession are often much more involved and complex. And hopefully, we'll get to see how complex as we continue on down this path.  For now, I think I'm going to leave it here, and so, until next time, 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.

David Santos- INDIGNANTE SIGUE EN PRISIÓN LA PERSONA EN SILLA DE RUEDAS QUE SE DEFENDIO DE UN ATRACADOR (09-04-2026) Más contenido inédito en: https://www.es-tv.es Aportaciones a Raúl: https://www.patreon.com/user?u=40527138 Nº de cuenta: ES75 3018 5746 3520 3462 2213 Bizum: 696339508 o 650325992 Aportaciones a David: https://www.patreon.com/davidsantosvlog Nº de Cuenta: ES78 0073 0100 5306 7538 9734 Bizum: +34 644919278 Aportaciones a Equipo-F: TITULAR: EQUIPO F CUENTA: ES34 1465 0100 9417 5070 9106 C ÓDIGO SWIFT: INGDESMM Conviértete en miembro de este canal para disfrutar de ventajas: https://www.ivoox.com/podcast-un-murciano-encabronao-david-santos-los-audios_sq_f11099064_1.html Canales de U.M.E.: El Cid

Programa completo Directo Marca Sevilla 09/04/2026 en Radio Marca Sevilla. En clave bética, analizamos el empate frente al SC Braga con nuestro compañero Juan Pinto. Repasamos los sonidos mas interesantes que dejaron Manuel Pellegrini, Marc Roca y Cucho Hernández tras el encuentro. En la parte sevillista, el equipo sigue con los entrenamientos de cara al choque del próximo sábado contra el Atlético de Madrid, de este partido hablamos con un ex de ambos clubes como es Tevenet. Pendiente de la recuperación de los futbolistas lesionados. Espacio para el futbol femenino, nos atiende Marcos Tamarit, entrenador del R. Betis Femenino que están en zona de descenso en la segunda categoría a falta de dos jornadas con la permanencia en juego. Tiempo para el polideportivo, nos atiende Mariló Salguero, capitana del Club Waterpolo Dos Hermanas PQS que este fin de semana puede sellar la salvación matemática en Primera Nacional y para despedir, hablamos del Dragones CAAD Rugby en Silla de ruedas con su entrenador Deme González, tras conseguir pleno de victorias y disputar este fin de semana en Bellavista la jornada. See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

W tym odcinku rozmówczynią Kasi jest Karolina Lewestam - filozofka, publicystka związana z Magazynem Pismo, autorka książek: „Pasterze smoków" i „Szmaty" (wyd. Czarne), oraz książek dla dzieci: „Mała księżniczka”, „Silla” i „Strażniczka Perły”. Czy doktorat z filozofii pomaga pisać książki albo uprawnia do doradzania innym „jak żyć”? Czy łatwiej jest wychowywać syna czy córkę? Czy da się uchronić przed byciem „starą babą” w oczach swoich dzieci? To rozmowa o pisaniu i czytaniu, o fantastyce i magii, o rodzicielstwie i córkostwie. Prosimy o wyrozumiałość względem jakości audio w tym odcinku. Rozmowa prowadzona była zdalnie - stąd drobne problemy techniczne w nagraniach Karoliny. Obiecujemy, że treść wynagrodzi te niedogodności.

This episode we close out discussion of this reign with a bit of a grab bag.  There is the minting of new coins, new letters to write Japanese, board games, and more. For more, check out our blogpost:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-146 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is episode 146: Coins, Letters, Games, and More   The large audience hall was filled with nobles, sitting in pairs across from each other.  Throughout the hall, the roof and walls reverberated with the sounds of numerous stone markers being placed on painted wooden tables—or more appropriately, game boards.   It was accompanied by the sound of dice clattering.  At the far end of the hall was the royal presence, where his majesty could likewise join in the entertainment—with someone of sufficient standing, of course. Throughout the day there were bursts of joy and frustration throughout the hall.  In some instances, one could see two players sharing in the joy and love of the game.  In other cases, political rivals stared each other down, neither one willing to give away any strategic advantage.  Any smiles there were merely a mask.  And yet, no matter how hard one tried, there was only so much you could do.  Ultimately, your fate was in the hands of the dice, though you could certainly do your best to nudge it here and there. And so they continued.  As they played, small wagers were made between players.  At the conclusion of their match, each player could find another opponent, and see if their luck held out.  Victory was desired, but at the very least one didn't want to be embarrassed.  As such, losing gracefully was just as important as winning with humility.  Sure, there were  the petty stakes that were gambled here and there, but the real stakes were embedded in the politics of the court.  That was a game  that everyone was playing, except that there was no board, and the rules were often merely suggestions, at best.     This episode we are going to close out the reign of Ohoama, aka Temmu Tenno.  It has been a while getting here—but then again, Ohoama's reign is the best documented so far, almost like the entire Chronicle has built up to this point.  We have spent about a dozen episodes on this reign—not including the four before that discussing the Jinshin no Ran. During that time we've talked about how Ohoama continued the Ritsuryou experiment, while  at the same time shaping it into something that was even more directly under his control.  A lot of this appears to have been done with the mostly willing consent of a good part of the archipelago. That may have been because of a few different things.  For one, all of this was justified through the philosophical underpinnings of the continent.  This is the new knowledge that the court had been devouring for over a century, and so I suspect that none of it seemed particularly surprising or out of place.  Furthermore, it seems that Ohoama's actions may have appealed to some of the more middle-tier elites; those for whom the idea of a government stipend was quite appealing. There was also the external threat of Silla and Tang.  Though in reality, Silla was in conflict with the Tang dynasty, up until the conclusion of the Silla-Tang War, around 676.  In truth, the Tang court wouldn't recognize Sillan sovereignty south of the Taedong river until 736, so there were still tensions.  However, early on in the reign there was at least the thought that hostilities could spill over onto the archipelago. And then there are all of the projects.  The designation of national temples, the beginning of a national history project, the founding of a permanent capital city, and the creation of a formal code—the Asuka Kiyomihara Code. Compared to all of that, the topics of this episode really are some miscellaneous stuff that I didn't have anywhere else to put, but wanted to bring to light anyway.  First, we'll talk about the minting of coins, and what that meant.  Once again, this is really neat because we actually have some coins that appear to be from this time frame, providing what might be a direct relationship between what is written down and what we have in the archaeological record.  Then we'll touch on another project of Ohoama's—this one less successful than some of the others we've discussed.  This was an attempt to create a new writing system specific to the Japanese language.  Remember, at this point literate people in the archipelago were using kanji to write everything down, and for the most part they were using kanbun—so Sinitic characters and grammar, with occasional use of characters purely for their phonetic qualities when they absolutely had to spell something out.  Eventually this would evolve into the syllabaries of katakana and hiragana, but there were several false starts before that, and we'll talk about what was being attempted during Ohoama's reign. Beyond those court projects we'll talk about some of the kami and Buddhist related rituals, especially as they related to growing merit and attempting to protect the state and its people from disasters—natural or otherwise.  And then there are various omens, and just a few edicts that were more geared towards the court but are still fun, like when Ohoama forced the entire court to join him for a day of… board games.  I guess when you are the sovereign and trying to set up a game day, scheduling is suddenly not so big of a problem. So that's what we are going to cover.  We are skipping around throughout the reign, and so while I'll mention dates here and there, I'll try not to get too bogged down with the exact dates unless it really matters. First off: coins.  We are going to start somewhere in the middle, on the 15th day of the 4th month of 683.  It is here that we see a note that Ohoama decreed that copper coins would be used, and not silver.  Remember that a silver mine had been discovered in Tsushima back in 674.  At that time we know that there were silver coins being made, but in 683 it looks like they were changing from silver to copper.  But three days later, they reversed the decision to completely cancel the silver coins, so they presumably had both silver and copper coins. Coins are interesting for several reasons.  For one, coins often help us to date various collections—if they are distinctive enough.  They can be quite helpful in telling us that a particular archaeological assemblage is almost certainly from sometime after the coins had begun to be circulated.  After all, if you unearth a stratum of an archeological dig and you find a penny dated to 1912, you can be reasonably confident that that layer was last exposed on or after 1912, unless time travel was at play. There are some exceptions where animals or tree roots or other forces can disturb the layering, but that's why archeologists carefully pay attention to soil features.  That isn't to say that all coins of the time had clear dates on them.  In fact, the oldest coins we have in the archipelago are something called "Mumon Ginsen"—literally unmarked silver coins.  They are found in various assemblages and thought to have originated under Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou.  The silver from Tsushima would have likely been used for this.  For many reasons it is unclear if these were minted by the state or if they were privately minted and circulated. The copper coin mentioned in Ohoama's record in the Nihon Shoki would appear to be what is known as a Fuhonsen coin, which we also have extant examples of.  These are round copper coins with a square hole in the middle, as was common on the continent.  The previous unmarked silver coins were just small circles of solid silver.  In contrast, the Fuhonsen bear the characters "FU-HON":  FU, or "Tomi", means wealth, and HON, or "moto", means something like base or basis.  "SEN" just refers to the fact that it is a coin.  So the coin represents the basis of wealth. They are just under an inch in diameter, and 1.5 millimeters thick.  While primarily copper, they do have traces of antimony, silver, and bismuth.  The use of copper was likely because of its lower melting point, which would have been easier to cast with. So it seems that these were the new copper coins mentioned in the Chronicles, and the intent was originally to completely replace any silver currency.  I suspect that they quickly realized that they could not easily replace all of the silver, and so the older silver coins were probably still in circulation—though I don't know if any new ones were being minted. We don't exactly know how the coins were used.  They weren't being used to pay taxes or similar things—that was still all being handled in rice, silk, cloth, and labor.  They might have been used by the government to pay individuals, who would then exchange them for goods, but they were probably not used very often between individuals.  There is even some suggestion that they had a more ritual meaning.  Coins of a similar shape—round with a square hole in the center—go back to at least 350 BCE on the continent, and were quite common by the  time of the Han dynasty.  The round hole allowed them to be placed on strings—you'll often see references to strings of cash.  In the Qin dynasty, a string was meant to be a superunit, made up of 1000 coins.  Merchants and others operating at some scale could then just pay in "strings" of cash rather than counting out each and every coin.  It also provided a way of transporting them.  Anyone doing business in east Asia would have encountered coinage from one of the dynasties on the mainland, and we certainly see various coins making their way over to the archipelago, though how exactly they were used and valued isn't certain.  It may have been more important to just have them on hand for trips to the continent so that an embassy or trading vessel could participate in the economy, there. The next coin to be minted in the archipelago itself wasn't until 708, and that was the Wadokaichin, or Wado coins, named for the four characters around the square hole, which included the era name that they were created, "Wado".  This seems to have kicked off an actual national currency that would only last for a couple hundred years before it was debased and lost its value.  For centuries after that, rice was once again the primary currency, and would continue to be so, even though the Tokugawa shogunate would begin to mint and issue coins again through much of their rule.  Still, coins were often outside the grasp of most of the common people. While coins may not have fully caught on, they did better than our next project.  This was a task that was given to Sakahibe no Muraji no Iwashiki who compiled, by royal command, a new set of characters, which were recorded in a book of 44 volumes.  Though this book  is no longer extant, we do have later sources that claim it was once in the royal library.  It describes the characters as similar to Sanskrit characters.  This appears to be an attempt to create an alphabet, or syllabary, for the Japanese language. While Yamato had adopted the Sinitic systems of logographic writing, it wasn't exactly up to the task of directly writing in Japanese.  For one thing, the languages had different sounds that they used, and in different combinations.  Furthermore, grammatically, the two were quite different.  Many Sinitic languages are Subject, Verb, Object, similar to English, while Japanese is Subject, Object, Verb, meaning the verb goes at the end.  But beyond that, Japanese relies extensively on conjugation of verbs, with verbs and adjectives changing to express tense and other such things that Sinitic languages, such as modern Putonghua and languages such as Middle Chinese handle in other ways.  To give an English speaking person a similar experience, imagine writing sentences as "The bird in the tree sat"  or "the man the bread at the store bought".  Now remove many of the articles and prepositions, so you get things like "bird tree sit" and "man bread store buy".  You can imagine how that can really get unwieldy if you want to convey more nuanced concepts. Japanese would either need to add a phonetic writing system—which it did—or it would need to come up with new characters to use in place of the special qualities of the language.  Or they would need to continue to write in Sinitic grammatical order and  continue to do the translation to Japanese on the fly.   One can imagine that this was hardly efficient—in order to learn how to write you would basically have to learn a whole new language. That these new symbols were similar to characters associated with Sanskrit also makes sense, and we even see similar attempts on the continent, though they had other writing systems to compare to as well.  For example, we see the Persian Sogdian, written with a variation of Syriac script, and the Ghandari language written with its own Ghandari or Kharosthi script, but the influence of Buddhism likely explains why scripts associated with Sanskrit likely had a greater influence than other languages.  I should note here that Sanskrit itself does not have a single script—today, people probably think of the Devanagari script, commonly used in India, but that doesn't seem to have been developed until the 8th century.  The work of Iwashiki was likely based on something like the Siddham, or Kutila, script.  This is an abudgida, where consonants and vowels are connected together when written.  This would have worked well for the Japanese language as phonemes are often grouped together as consonant-vowel clusters known as morae.  Siddham evolved in the late 6th century and many Buddhist scripts that were making their way along the Silk Road would have used it.  However, it is said that Siddham proper—or at least as we know it today—was introduced to Japan by the famous monk Kuukai in the early 9th century.  If that is the case, then what script was Iwashiki using as his inspiration? Regardless of the details, this new script doesn't seem to have taken off.  It may have just been too much to ask someone to learn the various kanji AND another system on top of that.  Instead, the Japanese would adopt certain kanji over time, and simplify them into what we know, today, as kana.  Our earliest example is what we know of as Man'yogana, named for the Man'yoshu, an 8th century collection of poems attributed to various contemporary and historical figures.  Because the poetic structure of Japanese required specific counts of syllables or, more specifically, morae, it was important to capture the actual pronunciation of the language.  Certain characters were chosen and used over and over again purely for their phonetic value, rather than any other inherent meaning.  Over time, those characters were simplified and standardized, developing into the katakana and hiragana still used today.  While it was these organically-evolving systems that would eventually be most popular and fill the gap, but it is still incredible to see someone deliberately tackling the problem at this early date. Moving on from money and writing, let's turn now to matters of the kami and the Buddha.   Yamato existed in a world that saw itself as being caught between forces both seen and unseen.  Besides the natural world there was the spiritual world, and to many it was just as real as anything else. We've talked all along about the interplay between the court, the kami and the Buddha, and some of the evidence we see is relatively simple.  For instance, in 675, the Ohokami, the great god, of Tosa presented a divine sword to the sovereign.  I doubt that a kami was showing up in person to the court—this would have been priests from the shrine.   Aston suggests that the kami in question was probably either Hitokotonushi no Mikoto or Misukitakahikone no Mikoto, quoting "authorities" which he does not otherwise name.  We get more serious, though, when it comes to major events.  And the drought and famine of 676 seems to fit that description.  As you may recall from episode 144, the governor of Shimotsukeno reported a bad harvest in the 5th month, and by the 6th month we see more reports coming in of a great drought.  Clothing was collected for the Buddhist temples to help build merit.  Later, there was a comet in the sky, and then, in the 8th month, we see that the court compelled the Kuni no Miyatsuko and the governors to all contribute to an Ohoharae, or Great Purification.  Eventually, the Ohoharae would become a regular ceremony held on the 30th day of the 6th and 12th months of the year, with royal princes down to the high ministers gathering at the southern gate—the Suzaku-mon. Members of the Urabe, the Diviners, would read the various norito, the ritual prayers, to disperse evil influences.  It was, and is,also used when there is a royal visit to the Ise or Kamo shrines, as well as at the Dajosai festival at the start of a new reign.  It can also be done if there is thought to have been some kind of offense that was committed. "Harae", or "purification", is a common part of Shinto ritual today.  From the simple washing of the hands and mouth before entering the shrine grounds to pray to spiritual purification performed by a priest who waves a large stick with paper streamers—the ohonusa or haraegushi—while chanting prayers to ward off evil influences, purification is a key component in Shinto, which often concerns itself with aspects of spiritual pollution.  And so the Oho-harae, the Great Purification, is that, but turned up to eleven. The litany used for the Ohoharae, today, is also known as the Nakatomi no Ohoharae, indicating the importance of the Nakatomi in the ritual.  This Ohoharae, however, was taking place in the 8th month, and may not have had all of the traditions of the later rituals we know today.  Rather, we are told what was required:  The Kuni no Miyatsuko of the provinces were instructed to send one horse and a piece of cloth to specific shrines of purification.  In addition, the governors of the various districts were each told to supply one sword, one deerskin, one mattock, one smaller sword, one sickle, one set of arrows, and one sheaf of rice.  In addition, each household had to supply a bundle of hemp cloth.  These may not have been used in the ritual as much as they were offerings to the kami and their shrine. We'll see this in various cases where the State places rather onerous financial requirements on the population in order to perform rituals.  Of course, by the logic of the time, whatever was donated would make the ritual more effective—it would be more pleasing to the kami.  Still this seems remarkably costly in a year where we are told that the peasants were starving just a few months prior. I'll also take this moment to point out a link here to something that anyone who has been to a shrine may be familiar with, and that is the donation of horses. Horses were common enough a donation—if people of status rode horses, then how much more so the kami themselves?  Sacred or votive horses could be used to carry the kami, and even today some shrines keep sacred horses for the kami.  However, not everyone has horses to donate, and I suspect that the shrine probably didn't need an entire herd of horses.  And so some would pay money for an image of a horse, instead, to be hung in the shrine, likely indicating the donor.  Of course, this wasn't just a picture, but an official record of some kind of donation, which could theoretically go to purchase horses and other such things that the shrine might need.  These pictures of horses were known as "e-ma", literally "picture horse", and we still see them today: The most common type of e-ma will be small wooden placards sold at the shrine, and people will write their desires on the back, with their name and information.  They will often be found hanging in groups on specially designated racks meant for that purpose.  Today, e-ma might have horses on them, but more often have other pictures, associated with the particular shrine and kami.  Speaking of horses, we have a couple more references to them this year.  At some point, Ohoama had issued an edict seeking horses, not just for riding, but other good horses so that the givernment would have them when needed, distributed to the various post-stations.  So when he was returning from a banquet by the Todoroki pool in Hatsuse—modern Hase--Ohoama made a diversion to the post-station of Tomi and had the horses demonstrate their speed.  Presumably this was just a horse race, which seems to be popular around the world, in any place with horses. We see something similar when we are told that Ohoama went to Asatsuma to inspect the horses of the officials there.  At his request, the officials organized a competition of horseback archery.  This appears to reference the famous art of Yabusame—though it may not have been recognized as such just yet, there is some thought that the idea of a horsed archer shooting at three targets while galloping past may have originated in the 6th century, with ties to Usa Jingu.  Still, horseback archery would remain important, and later it would become the primary art of the warrior class from about the 12th to the 13th century or so—and arguably even up until the Sengoku period, with its spear formations and foreign guns. Later, in the 10th lunar month of 681, Ohoama and the court were prepared to go hunting on the Hirose plain.  A temporary palace was prepared and all of the bags were packed, but ultimately, Ohoama didn't go.  Instead, those from the rank of Prince to high ministers stayed at Karunoichi—a market at a cross-roads in the Nara basin that likely was the location of a government stable.  There, they inspected the horses and saddle equipment.  Those from the rank of Shokin up sat under the trees while those of Daisen and below mounted up and passed along from south to north.  Not quite as exciting as horse racing or horsed archery, but who doesn't like a parade. One wonders what happened to call off the hunt.  Perhaps Ohoama, while not bedridden, was not in the best of health.  If he was having some kind of recurring problems then that could explain some of the merit-making as well.  You may recall we discussed how much merit the state seemed to be trying to make in support of the sovereign's health, which we discussed in episode 142. Getting back to the Ohoharae—the great purification.  That was followed up by a general amnesty, which we talked about last episode, as well as a command to let loose living things.  This is a Buddhist practice that one still sees today in various places, usually in the form of letting loose animals like fish and birds that were kept by individuals.  I don't think they were just opening up the paddocks and letting the horses, cattle, and other animals go.  As fascinating as that might be to contemplate, with horses just running wild and cattle trampling the rice fields, I doubt they took it that far.  Still, this practice was clearly an attempt to make more merit for the State.   This edict was repeated only a few months later, in the 11th lunar month, but then it was confined to those provinces that were considered to be "near" to the capital, so a little more focused.  The day after that second release of animals, men were dispatched to all parts to expound the Konkwoumyou and Ninou sutras.  This was the Sutra of Golden Light and the Sutra of the Benevolent King—both sutras focused on concepts of good rulership and protection of the State.  In fact, together with the Lotus Sutra, they would come to be considered the Gokoku Sanbukyou—the Three sutras for Protection of the State.  They were read for the purpose of averting disaster, but they also helped to prop up the image of a righteous and benevolent ruler—what might be termed a golden-wheel turning sovereign, or Chakravarti. So all of this would seem to simultaneously reflect an intention to protect the State while also demonstrating performative regnal righteousness.  It was, after all, what a good ruler was supposed to do, which also conveniently told people what a good ruler was supposed to do. It is unclear whether or not the court actually felt this did anything.  I would note that a month later they were asking Princes and Ministers to gather up weapons, so it is possible that they were concerned about more than just natural disasters— such as a concern that the people were getting restless.  A few days later, we see more largess, as the court made presents to public functionaries and men of the frontier states.  It is unclear to me if this is a reward of some sort or perhaps an attempt to boost their morale and support. Later in that month we see preparations for the upcoming Feast of First Fruits, or Niinamesai, two months later.  We are told that the Jingikan, the Office of Kami Matters, had made the divination that the Yuki, the ceremonially pure rice for the ritual would come from the District of Yamada, in Owari.  For the Sugi, the "next" lower quality of rice, that would come from the district of Kasa, in Tamba.  The feast went off as usual in the 11th month, pre-empting the normal announcement of the first of the month. Later in the record we see that preparations were started for another Ohoharae, or Great Purification, and a general amnesty was issued.  This time, instead of sending horses for the kami, the Miyatsuko of each province were to supply one male and one female servant to the shrines, instead.  Fifteen days later, in the intercalary 7th lunar month—an extra month inserted to keep the lunar and solar calendars in synch—we see the queen, Uno, hosting a feast after ritual fasting.  She then had sutras expounded throughout the capital.  I find it particularly interesting that this was apparently instigated by the queen, but along with the Ohoharae, this all speaks towards the feeling that the State needed to be purified and supplied with good merit. The Ohoharae was not the only way to curry favor with the kami.  For example, in one record we see Ohoama designating sacred rice-tax for the shrines of Heaven and Earth—shrines for the Amatsu kami and Kunitsu kami.  One third of the rice was to go to the kami directly, while two thirds of the rice was to go to the priests who kept the shrines going. This same year, 677, we aren't told where the rice for the Niiname-sai came from, but we are told that those who donated as well as members of the Jingikan, who were involved in the divination and ritual more generally, were all compensated for their troubles with various presents. The Jingikan is one of those aspects of the new, bureaucratic state, that feels extremely tied to the archipelago.  It literally is the Bureau of Kami Matters, or the Bureau of Kami Affairs—the Kami no Tsukasa.  It would even come to be ranked above the Council of State in the official org chart of the government.  While the government had national temples and appointed members of the clergy who were responsible for keeping the Buddhist institutions in line with the State, the Jingikan was that entity for court ritual, and even for interfacing with various shrines around the country.   In the 10th century, all of the official shrines across the archipelago would be catalogued and assessed a rank and position, with Ise Shrine and the royal court at the top of the list. Speaking of the national temples, the fourth month of 680 was when Ohoama designated the national temples—which we also covered in Episode 142.  On the first day of month after that, we are told that he bestowed gifts of silk and cloth to 24 temples around the capital; and if there really were 24 temples just around the capital itself, one can imagine why they had to put a stop to publicly funding all of them.  That must have been quite the upkeep.  That same day, the Golden Light Sutra was expounded in the palace and at select temples as well.  As we've seen, the court relied just as heavily—or more—on Buddhism for certain rituals and providing spiritual power. While both Kami-based rituals and Buddhism were revered for their ability to affect the supernatural, Buddhist priests seem to have had a particularly revered place in—or perhaps more rightly outside—of society.  One is more likely to hear about someone who was a Buddhist priest or a novice being revered than a kannushi, or shrine priest.  For example, in the 7th month of 680, the priest Kouchou, of Asukadera, passed away. The royal princes Ohotsu and Takechi were sent to express royal condolence.  Later that same year we would see something similar, with Royal—later Crown—Prince Kusakabe visiting the eminent priest (Y)emyou on his death bed.  Yemyou died the next day, and three royal princes were sent to offer the condolences on behalf of the royal family. Towards the end of 680, Ohoama fell ill. One hundred individuals were made to take holy orders on his behalf, after which he appears to have recovered—or at least recovered enough for the time.  Earlier in the month his queen, Uno no Sarara, had taken ill, for which Ohoama had pledged to build Yakushiji, a temple of the Medicine Buddha, as we talked about in Episode 142. Although Ohoama temporarily recovered, we have mentioned how there are plenty of suggestions that he may not have been entirely better.  It could just be that time and numerous diseases were taking a toll, or perhaps he had an ailment that came and went.  I get that impression from things like in the 10th month of 685, as autumn changed to winter,  several nobles were sent to Shinano to build a temporary palace in preparation for a royal progress.  It seems that Ohoama wanted to visit the hot springs at Tsukama.  Tsukama may have been located on the outskirts of modern Matsumoto city, in Nagano, which is known for its hot springs, today.  Bentley implies  that the court was not entirely thrilled with Ohoama taking this journey.  I have to wonder whether or not this was all about Ohoama's health—hot springs were often seen as restorative.  At the same time, this sounds like a fairly long journey into the mountains as the weather was growing colder.  That also may have been part of the draw, however, allowing them to travel and see the changing leaves, a very common pastime in successive centuries, and even today. I can't help but imagine that Ohoama was seeking the restorative properties, while his court may have been apprehensive about the journey there and back as the days were getting colder.  Compare this to his actions at the start of the Jinshin no Ran, when he made that incredible dash from Yoshino, through the mountains, over to Owari.  But that was well over a decade ago, at this point, and he seems not quite so spry as he once had been. Another popular record that we find in this reign were various oddities and omens.  We've covered quite a few, but I did want to cover a few more before we pull the curtain closed on this era. First off, early in the reign, we see a record in the 10th month of 675 for a woman in the district of Takakura, in the province of Sagami, giving birth to triplets.  A quick Internet search suggests that natural triplets occur in about 1 in every 8000 or 10,000 births.  However, there is another thing to consider at this time:  giving birth to a single child was already a risky business, and death during or just after childbirth was a constant threat.  So now consider the issues with giving birth to twins or even triplets.  The odds that there is a complication just go up at that point.  So I suspect this was a very rare occurrence.  The fact that it was three sons was probably also seen as particularly auspicious, at least for any who were studying traditional Confucian scholarship. Moving on to the 4th day of the 4th lunar month of that same year, we get an omen for the court.  First is a cock sent to the court by Wanitsumi no Yogoto, from the Lower Sofu district in Yamato province.  This cock is said to have had a comb like a camelia flower, which was apparently quite auspicious.  On the other hand, a report came in from Akunami, also in Yamato province, about a hen that had turned into a cock.  Aston, of course, considers that this would have been an ominous sign—a disruption of the natural order.  To be honest, I don't see any particular judgment placed on it one way or the other.  It is just listed as a wondrous or miraculous occurrence. The year 678 has remarkably few events, in total, with nothing recorded between the 4th and 9th months.  And the 9th month was just a note about the death of one, Prince Wakasa, of the third princely rank.  The month after that we have another one of those strange occurrences.  This time it is a report of something falling from the sky like silk floss, except that it was 5 or 6 feet long and 7 or 8 inches wide.  It supposedly floated on the wind and waved from the fir woods and the reed plains.  People who saw it called it kanro, or "sweet nectar". This is really just a crazy entry.  I've wracked my brains to think of a natural event that could cause something like this, but this seems like something that was more like a rumor that got written down.  "Kanro" is thought to be something that Buddhist texts refer to as "Amrita", an exlixir of immortality.  In continental lore, it is said to be a sweet nectar that forms when yin and yang are in harmony—such as during a benevolent reign.  So whatever the truth of any natural event, to the Chroniclers the entry is clearly a chance to hype up Ohoama's reign. And then, towards the end of the 8th month, we see Katsura no Miyatsuko no Oshikatsu presenting auspicious stalks of grain.  Reportedly they all came from different plots and yet had very similar ears of grain.  Auspicious stalks of rice weren't uncommon, but Aston suggests that this was possibly an allegory for all of the royal princes who were brought together in Yoshino to swear to support each other.  The 8th month may have been when the grain was harvested—because it wasn't until the final month of the year that we see the court reacting.  At that point presents were made to the Royal and non-Royal Princes, the Ministers, and the public functionaries, all according to rank, in consequence of the auspicious stalks of grain.  In addition there was an amnesty for all offences from capital crimes on down. Now on top of all of that, there were a few edicts that touched on various topics that we just haven't gotten to, elsewhere. For instance, in the 8th month of 681, on the 10th day, we see a notification to all of the people in the archipelago who claimed descent from those from the continent—specifically those from the Korean peninsula, or the Samhan.  They were told that the taxes, which had previously been remitted for 10 years, so starting in 671, had come to an end.  However, corvee labor was still remitted for ten years to them and their children and grandchildren who had been with them when they first arrived. There are some questions about this passage, but in general it seems that those refugees who had escaped to the archipelago from Baekje and Goguryeo had previously been given 10 years from the time they arrived during which they did not owe taxes.  This included corvee labor—which also extended to any children that had been with them at the time.  Children that were born after that… well they wouldn't be of age to be used as corvee labor in 10 years so this would only apply to those who were with them at the  time and who would be of age within that 10 year timeframe. This exemption from taxes appears several times in different forms, and appears to be a grace period, during which people were expected to establish themselves, open fields, and begin to thrive.  At the end of 10 years, then they would start paying taxes, with the assumption that they had more than enough time to prepare and work the land. Moving on to one of my favorite entries, on the 18th day of the 9th lunar month in 685, Ohoama declared a game day.  He had the Princes and Ministers gather at the Ohoandono, the Great Audience Hall, and had them play a game called "Pakugi" or "Bakugi".  We aren't quite sure what the rules were—it probably wasn't Settlers of Catan, but you never know.  It was likely a game with dice, possibly a version of backgammon, which is quite old and commonly known as a game for gambling.  That same day, Ohoama gave out gifts of robes and trousers to ten princes and others—perhaps related to the gaming session? The history of games and gaming is particularly fascinating.  For one thing, many of the games that were played in the archipelago had come from the continent, and many had variants that had traversed the entirety of Eurasia.  Backgammon and Chess were both games that had variants that would be known in Japan.  Backgammon was known as sugoroku, and in Japan they played a game similar to chess known as Shogi.  They would also play go—or more appropriately igo—from at least the Nara period, though that game, invented in what is now China, does not seem to have spread quite as much as either backgammon or chess variants.  And while chess was a game that was often highly localized—with different pieces representing different things and often moving in different ways depending on the variant—backgammon seems to have been quite similar everywhere, and could probably be played by two people with wildly different cultural backgrounds with very little interpretation needed. The day after Ohoama had the court join his game day, there were more presents.  This time it was brown bear hides given to the royal and non-royal princes.  In total there were 48 hides given out, which is really pretty incredible.  I have this image in my mind of a very Asuka era wooden mansion, with wood and bronze and silk, and then a large bear hide sprawled out on the floor.  I'm not sure exactly how they were used, but I suspect that they were mostly used as floor coverings for people to sit or lay on, though I could also see them being used as sleeping mats.  It seems they were clearly elite status goods, but hardly what we think about in this period. And that is where we are going to come to a close.  There are only a few more things that we'll get to, but they are all related to what happened with the events surrounding Ohoama's death and the succession that followed, so we'll touch on those when we kick off the next reign. 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.  

Born in Greenland, Aaju Peter did not begin to explore the breadth of her own Inuit culture until she moved to Nunavut, Canada. It was there that she got in touch with an internal drive to learn about and strengthen language, education, policy, and the arts toward improving Inuit representation on an international scale. That has resulted in a varied career as an activist, lawyer, clothing designer, and musician. Among her many accolades is the Order of Canada, awarded for her preservation and promotion of Inuit culture. Aaju Peter joins us as our Native in the Spotlight. Break 1 Music: The Great Angakkuq [feat. Kevin Qamaniq-Mason] (song) Silla (artist) Sila Is Boss (album) Break 2 Music: Hard Times Will Be Coming (song) Courtney Yellow Fat (artist) The Lost Songs of Sitting Bull (album)

Es la imposición del poder del hombre autor, director, espectador, escrito sobre el cuerpo femenino para ratificar un mandato de dominio

This episode we'll be looking at a bunch of different references referring to the various provinces, particularly those on the far edges of the archipelago. For more, check out:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-144   Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is episode 144: On the Edge The ships sat low in the water, bobbing gently against the docks at Naniwa.  The captain eyed them warily as the officials went over the manifest.  The Seto Inland Sea was generally calm and smooth sailing—at least compared to the open ocean, anywhere else -- and yet, as he looked, he could only think of how sluggish these ships would be.  They were laden down with cargo—silk, cloth, thread, and of course provisions for the men accompanying them.  But more than that, they were laden down with iron.  Tons of iron ingots, destined for the far reaches of the archipelago.  First to Suwa, but then on to the Dazai on Tsukushi, no doubt to be forged into weapons for the defense of Yamato. But that wasn't the captain's concern.  He just needed to make sure that the ships weren't weighed down too much:  as long as they remained buoyant, they would make the journey, even if they had to travel at a snail's pace to do it.  But if the ships sat too low in the water, then all it would take was some uncooperative waves and the ships, crew, and cargo, would be sent straight down to the palace of the dragon king, beneath the waves. Fortunately, with enough ships, it looked like that wouldn't be too much of a problem, as long as the goods were properly spaced out.  Now to just hope that the weather cooperated.  Even in the relatively safe waters of the Seto Inland Sea, you never know what could happen…     So last episode we talked about two large projects that Ohoama is said to have started.  First was the history project, which likely led to the Kojiki and the Nihon Shoki.  Second was the start of a brand new capital.  This episode, we are going from the macro, down to the micro—smaller events that just weren't covered in previous episodes.  For the most part the next few episodes are going to be a grab bag of various items, but I'm going to try and put some semblance of cohesion to this.  Next episode we'll be looking at some of the laws that they made, including the law code and examples of the kinds of punishment—and forgiveness—that the court could bestow.  This week, however, we are going to cover a bunch of stories focused on the areas outside of the Home Provinces.  We'll look at the Dazai in Tsukushi—and elsewhere.  We'll talk about how the provinces were governed, and what concerned them.  Granted, a lot of what concerned them, at least from the Chroniclers point of view, were taxes and economic production.  So we see recorded concern with taxes and with what was there—the land and the people that worked it.  Also with natural events, like droughts and tsunami, which would affect that same economic production.   We're starting off with the Dazai, and the person in charge there.  The Viceroy, as it is often called in English. The Dazai appears to have started off with something of a military purpose.  It was a gathering place before ships would sail off to the Korean peninsula, raiding up the rivers, or trading with their allies.  As the archipelago began to be more embroiled in the wars of the peninsula, it was that much more important.  And when Yamato's ally, Baekje, fell, and it looked like Silla and the Great Tang might turn their attention to the islands that had been a thorn in their side for so long, it became a bulwark against potential invasion. However, it also had another function.  It was the jumping off place for warships, but also for embassies and trading missions.  It was also the primary destination for most ships approaching Yamato.  They would take a route through Tsushima island, and then Iki island, and continue to the main coast of Tsukushi—Kyushu, and up and around to the sheltered waters of Hakata bay.  At some point they would even move that initial contact farther out, to Tsushima island itself.  Ships would dock on one side of the island, and transport their goods to a Yamato ship on the other side, with a pilot who knew the waters.  The local island officials could then send word ahead to the Dazai that they were coming.  No surprises, and nobody jumping the gun thinking that a fleet of warships was on their way. The Dazai played a key role in defense, trade, and diplomacy.  When the embassies arrived, they were entertained at the Dazai while word was sent to the court.  If the court deemed it appropriate, then they might have the ambassadors take the journey the rest of the way.  Otherwise, the court at the Dazai would stand in for the sovereign, and receive the messages, and various diplomatic gifts that were sent along. This was a powerful and also highly lucrative position, and it is reflected in the people who were granted the title.  This was the Dazai no Sochi, or Oho-mikoto-mochi no kami. We see the post held by Soga no Himuka in  649, during the Taika era.  Then we see Abe no Hirafu in the reign of Takara Hime, 655-661.  Hirafu would go on to become the Minister of the Left.  Then we see Prince Kurikuma. We talked about Prince Kurikuma before—he was Ohoama's ally in Tsukushi who refused the Afumi court's request for troops during the Jinshin no Ran.  He is one of the few figures that we have more than just a bit of information on.  For one thing, we have two different appointments to his position as viceroy in Tsukushi—there is one in 668, and another in 671, with Soga no Akae being given the post in between.  There are some questions about whether or not those were different people—the first one might have been someone named "Kurisaki" or "Kurimae", but it is generally assumed that was just misspelled, and it may be that there were just some questions as to when he was appointed.  We also know that he was a friend to Ohoama.  The Afumi court said as much, and in the Jinshin no Ran, when he and his sons stood up  to the Afumi court's request for troops, he came down heavily on Ohoama's side.  It is no wonder that he would have still been in such a powerful position.  His sons, by the way, are named as Prince Mino and Prince Takebe; we've seen what appears to be different Princes named Mino, but it is possible that this is the Prince Mino mentioned elsewhere in this part of the record. Sources suggest that Kurikuma was a descendant of the sovereign Nunakura, aka Bidatsu Tennou, and that he was an ancestor of the Tachibana clan.  There were stories about him in Tsukushi, beyond those in the Nihon Shoki, and while he isn't always named explicitly, one can infer that he hosted a number of embassies and ambassadors in his time.  In fact, in his position as head of the Dazaifu in Tsukushi, he was in what was perhaps the most lucrative post outside of Yamato.  In addition to being in charge of trade, diplomacy, and military readiness, the Dazaifu oversaw all of Tsukushi—the island of Kyushu, and was like a miniature representation of the central government. I suspect it is the military responsibilities that saw Kurikuma being appointed to the post of Director of Military Affairs—Tsuwamo-no-Tsukasa-no-Kami, or Heiseikan-cho. That was in the 3rd lunar month of 675, just a few years into Ohoama's reign. This would later be known as the Hyoubu-shou, or Ministry of War.  The appointment would not last long, however.  A year later, Kurikuma would pass away from disease.  Prince Kurikuma is one of those enigmatic and yet somewhat exciting individuals that exists beyond just the Nihon Shoki.   The Shoku Nihongi and later sources give us additional details, which may or may not be accurate.  Even moreso, there are stories in modern Nagasaki prefecture about Prince Kurikuma helping to regulate the animals that lived in the waters surrounding Kyushu.  According to the Shoku Nihongi record, he was reportedly granted the 2nd princely rank upon his death—which, if true, would seem to say a lot about how he was viewed at the time. Moving into the year 676, we see an edict that restricted governorships to individuals of the rank of Daisen and below.  The exceptions to this were the Home Provinces, Michinoku, and Nagato, and let's explore why these areas were excepted. Home Provinces make sense, as that is where the capital is and this more prestigious area was therefore deserving of a higher ranked noble.  Michinoku was the opposite geographically: it was the general wilderness of Tohoku, and the land of the Emishi.  It was also the farthest east of the capital, so I suspect they wanted someone of rank to handle that.  The governor of Nagato, however, is interesting.  Nagato is part of Honshu, the main island, just north of Kyushu, across the Shimonoseki strait.  Similar to Michinoku, Nagato was one of the most remote provinces on Honshu.  It was also an important province for potential defense and trade, and often coordinated with the Dazaifu in Tsukushi, to the south.  As such, it was also considered a more prominent posting than other governorships. It is somewhat interesting that the Dazaifu is not mentioned, but I suspect this is because the head of the Dazaifu was not, in fact, a governor, but more akin to a viceroy.  After all, they had to be entrusted with a certain amount of authority to be able to conduct military, trade, and diplomatic business without constantly sending back to the Yamato court for instruction.  We've already seen that there were Princes and other men of wealth and status who had been given that posting. Interestingly, in this reign we see at least one other viceroy—one other Dazai, or Ohomikotomochi—and that is in Kibi, of all places.  From what we can tell Kibi was one of the main rivals for power and authority in the prior centuries.  It has come up again and again in the stories.  Unfortunately, most of the stories only hint at what we think actually happened.  Today, when we talk about *the* Dazaifu we are almost exclusively talking about the one in Kyushu.  Besides being far flung from the center of power, it had huge responsibilities. Comparatively, though perhaps not as directly involved with trade, the rulers of Kibi were important figures, as demonstrated by the amount of manpower they were able to leverage for building their large, kingly tombs.  We talked somewhat about that back in Episode 48, looking at Tsukuriyama Kofun, one of the largest in the archipelago.  Furthermore, Kibi was well-placed on the Seto inland sea to be able to control the passage of ships.  The Kibi Dazai appears to have been established around the time of the Taika reforms, though it is only mentioned once in the Nihon Shoki, and I don't see any other examples of it.  There is also evidence that it was given authority over not just Kibi, but also the neighboring province of Harima.  Eventually, however, Kibi would be broken up into the three provinces of Bizen, Bitchu, and Bingo, and it would no longer need to be aggregated under a single administration.  Rather, each province would get its own governor, overseeing a much smaller part of the whole.  From this I can only assume that there may have been other, similar situations, prior to the various provinces being broken up like that. A couple months later, in the 5th month of 676, we are once again discussing governors.  First was a decree about governors who weren't paying their commuted taxes on time.  Aston goes on to note that non-rice taxes were due in the middle of the 8th month—at least for the home provinces.  Near provinces—a little farther away—taxes had to be received by the end of the 10th month, and for those a bit farther away—in the middle distance—they had to be there by the 11th month.  Finally,  the taxes from the farthest provinces were due by the end of the 12th month.  This would have given officials time to collect the taxes and to transport them all the way to the capital.  So when the chronicles talk about governors not paying on time, not keeping to this schedule may have been what the court was getting at—or at least some kind of similar schedule with deadlines, since it might have been modified over time.    Another record, that same month—actually a few days later—concerns specifically the governor of Shimotsukenu—or Shimotsuke, on the other side of Honshu.  He sent in a report that that province had been hit pretty hard that year with a poor harvest.  In fact, it was so bad that many peasants were seeking permission to sell their children.  The court ultimately denied the request, but this does speak to a rather disturbing—yet not exactly uncommon—cultural practice.  I don't think we need to get into the different nuances here, beyond a look at the fact that this was likely not a new practice, but it does seem that the appeal to the government for permission to sell one's children was something new.  Perhaps this came with all of the records and registrations that the government had undertaken to know who was in what household.  Regardless, one can hardly imagine that most parents would willingly take this option unless they had no other choice, and I suspect that it is meant to show both the desperation of the people in Shimotsuke, as well as the harsh benevolence of the sovereign, who would not permit the children to be separated from their families.  Of course, we aren't told how the court otherwise ameliorated the situation, since moral righteousness is tremendous, but doesn't suddenly fix the problems with the harvest or cause food to appear out of nowhere.  One hopes that the court at least sent some amount of rice or other provisions to help the people. Although it was Shimotsuke in the 5th month, in the 6th month we see a more general report of a large drought.  Messengers were sent throughout the land to get people to donate cloth, and make prayers to the kami, while Buddhist Priests called upon the power of the Three Precious Things.  It was all to no avail—the usual rains didn't come, so the wugu, the five grains didn't grow, and peasants starved.  The five grains per se are  rice, soybeans, wheat, and two types of millet, but in this case the term is just a stand-in for all types of agricultural produce. Possibly unrelated, but somewhat telling, two months later we see a record of the court granting sustenance-fiefs of all Royal princes and princesses down to the high ministers and female officials at the palace down to the rank of Shoukin.  So only two months after the peasants of Yamato were apparently starving, the court is handing out stipend increases to the elite.  So… yeah…. We do see a focus in the 8th month on an Oho-barai, or Great Purification.  I'm going to talk about this more in a future episode, though, so just noting here that they seem to have been working to purify the land and that may have been part of ongoing spiritual attempts to request the support of the kami in what appear to be difficult times.  There were also plenty of examples of attempts to make merit by demonstrating righteousness and reading various sutras. Moving on to the events of 677, things seem to have been going better than the previous year, so maybe all that merit-making had an effect?  Either way, we don't see any mention of droughts or famines this year, and we make it to the ninth month, when we see a notice that any vagabonds who returned after being sent back to their hometown would be set to forced labor.  Vagabond, in this case, is "furounin", or "person who floats on the waves".  This appears to be the origin of the term "Rounin", which would later refer to masterless samurai.  At this point it seems to refer mostly to commoners who were expected to work the land—and when workers abandoned the land that had implications for the government's tax base system.  So the State was invested in ensuring that people didn't just move somewhere else—at least without asking permission and being properly registered.  This does seem different from an actual fugitive, such as someone who was banished who tries to leave their place of banishment. The following month, the 10th month of 677,  we see that Kawabe no Omi no Momoye was appointed head of the Minbukyo, the Minister of the Interior.  In addition, Tajihi no Kimi no Maro was made a Daibu, or high official, of the province of Settsu.     The term "daibu" could just refer to high ministers of the court, but the "daibu" of a province appears to be similar to a governor, but with more expansive and comprehensive authority.  Settsu is one of the five home provinces, and as such an important part of the geographical heart of Yamato.   So we have the local chieftains, the governors, the viceroys at the Dazai, and also, apparently, a "high official" in some regions, each with what appear to be overlapping but slightly different portfolios. The next month we see that the Viceroy of Tsukushi—whoever had taken the place of Prince Yagaki—had his officials present a red crow to the court.  The person who caught the crow was granted five steps in rank—not a small reward.  Also, local officials had their own rank raised, and taxes were remitted to the peasants of that district for a year.  Finally, a general amnesty was announced across Yamato. We talked in Episode 141 how something like a red crow would have likely represented either the three-legged crow in the sun or the legendary Suzaku, the fiery bird of the south.  Either way, it was clearly an auspicious discovery.  It is interesting that we don't see any names at all associated with this event.  We do, however, see that people were no doubt incentivized to report such things up to the court.  Whoever found such a curiosity would likely have been celebrated by all of those around given the court's broad show of appreciation.  No doubt the local officials were more than pleased given that they were also likely to receive some of the benefits that accrued if the court was well pleased. As far as the type of events I'm focusing on this episode, there isn't much recorded between the red crow of 677 and a few years later in 682. Picking up in the 3rd month of that year, we get a record of the Emishi of Michinoku being granted court rank, incorporating them further into the growing Yamato polity.  As I talked about a little earlier, Michinoku on the other side of the archipelago, so this event really shows expansion of Yamato and solidification of its power over the rest of Honshu.  It is easy to forget that much of the Tohoku region was not firmly under Yamato control at this time.  They may have claimed it, but the people and culture there were still considered distinct and not a part of Yamato, proper.  But they were making inroads. In the following month, the 4th lunar month of the same year, 682, we are back on the west coast and see Tajihi no Mabito no Shima as the latest Viceroy of Tsukushi, sending as tribute a large bell.  It is somewhat interesting that, compared to the past few viceroys, Shima is actually a member of a noble family and *not* a Prince.  Of course, there was no requirement that the Dazaifu be overseen by a Prince—that certainly wasn't the case for Soga no Akaye, but it is interesting given how Ohoama had been making appointments, so far.  Even if they weren't princely, it is clear that this was an important posting, which says a lot for Tajihi no Shima, even if we didn't know anything more about him.  Fortunately, there are a few clues. For one thing, there are records that claim he was descended from one of the previous sovereigns, but he did not hold the title of "Prince".  That is reflected in his family's kabane of "Mabito", however, or "True person", which seems to indicate at least a nominal descent from a previous ruler.  Shima would continue to rise in the government, and would eventually serve as the Minister of the Right and then Minister of the Left, and at one point he would be the highest ranking noble in the government—though that was still a ways off.  All of this speaks to the importance of the position of viceroy, and probably gives us a clue as to why the Chroniclers were so interested in someone sending a bell, large as it might be, to the government. A day after the bell tribute arrived, Emishi of Koshi, including Ikokina and others, requested 70 households of prisoners of war to create a new district.  While we've talked about the Emishi of Koshi, before, what is particularly interesting is the request for prisoners of war—captives.  Were these Wajin, or Japanese, who had been captured by the Emishi and they were requesting permission to resettle them?  Were they asking for 70 households of people being held captive by the Yamato government?  It isn't clear.  It also isn't clear if "Ikokina" is the name of an individual or of multiple individuals.  Aston originally translated it as Itaka, Kina, and others, while Bentley's more recent translation suggests it is one name.  However, given that this is an Emishi name, being transliterated in Kanji through a Japanese translator, it is hard to know without further sources. From the fourth month to the 7th month of 682, we see a small entry that presents were given to men from Tanegashima, Yakushima, and Amami no Shima.  This simple entry is important mostly just because of its mention of continued contact with these islands south of Kyushu.  This helps us maintain some idea of the extent of Yamato's influence. In the late summer of 683, we once again see a drought.  It began in the 7th lunar month and lasted until the 8th.  A priest named Douzou prayed for rain and eventually obtained it. Douzou is said to have been a monk from Kudara, or Baekje.  Aston suggests that this means he was a priest of Kudaradera, but it isn't really clear to me.  In the early 8th month, we also see that there was a general amnesty ordered throughout Yamato, which I suspect was connected with the disaster of the drought and an attempt to help build merit and otherwise strengthen the state in the face of natural disaster and potential unrest. At the end of 683, we see a survey team being sent out.  The sovereign sent Prince Ise along with Hata no Kimi no Yakuni, Ohoshi no Omi no Homuchi, and Nakatomi no Muraji no Ohoshima with clerks and artisans to tour the realm and determine the border of the various provinces, but they were unable to determine them all in a year. This really must have been quite the task.  Certainly, the provinces were the ancient lands which people had been living in for some time, but there was never really a need for political lines on a map to determine where the boundaries were.  People generally knew if they were in one or the other, and unless there was a very contentious piece of property, mostly you didn't worry about which exact land or province you were in.  Now, however, the court was in the midst of trying to lock down all of the data about the land, including what was where and how much there was.  After all, their entire tax base was built on arable land, so they had to know where it was and what to expect.  There is no way that such a project was going to be completed in a single year. I would also note that Aston has this particular record misplaced.  He seemed to think it was on the 23rd day of the month, but it is then followed by the 17th.  It seems that Aston just got his dates wrong, and can you blame him?  There was a lot that he was dealing with. We do see, almost a year later, in the 10th month of 684, Prince Ise and others are once again sent to determine the boundaries of the provinces.  Second time's the charm, maybe?  Evidently not, because we then see another mention in the 10th month of 685, where the court gave them gifts of robes and trousers as they headed back out to the Eastern Countries one more time. In the 11th month of 684 we are given a small report of a huge disaster.  The governor of Tosa reported that a great tide had risen high, with an overflowing rush, and destroyed many of the ships used to convey tribute. Tosa is on Shikoku, facing out to the Pacific Ocean.  It is the first piece of dry land just past the continental shelf.  As such, a quake just off shore could create conditions not dissimilar to the 2011 disaster in Fukushima, and send a tsunami wave flooding the coastline.  It looks like that is what happened, which would have devastated the fleet.  Since Shikoku was an island, they relied on those ships to get taxes and tribute conveyed up to Yamato.  So this was Tosa letting the court know that the "sea ate my homework." I can't help but wonder if this tsunami wasn't related to an earthquake recorded for the month earlier, which we mentioned back in Episode 139.  It was a huge earthquake that seems to have had a tremdous impact.  Much of it was mentioned as being focused on the Toukaidou region, but that region still lies along a related fault line all the way down through Shikoku.  It may be that it took a while for the two events to be reported, and there may not have been an understanding that the event in one place could have had an impact elsewhere. I don't know if they had yet connected that earthquakes could cause tsunami or not.  On the other hand, it could be that it was a separate, but related quake, or even an aftershock, which caused the tsunami. Overall, the year 684 does not appear to have been the best.  We are told that in the lower district of Katsuraki, there was reported a chicken with four legs.  Then, in the district of Higami, in Tanba province, there was a calf born with twelve horns.  These don't sound like great omens, and given the tsunami, and the earthquake, and other such things, I can perhaps understand why the court focused on trying to do some merit-making towards the end of the year.  For instance they pardoned all criminals except those guilty of capital crimes.  And we are also told that Iga, Ise, Mino, and Wohari were notified that in future years, if they were paying commuted taxes—that is taxes other than rice, in lieu of service—that force labour would be remitted, and vice versa.   That is, if it was a year where they would pay in corvee labour, the commuted taxes would be remitted instead.  In other words, they didn't need to do both in one year.  Similarly , in the 7th lunar month of 685, we are told that the Provinces on the Tousandou, east of Mino, and the Toukaidou, east of Ise, were all exempted from sending in conscript laborers as part of their taxes. We aren't told exactly why any of this was done, but I suspect that it had something to do with either construction going on in those regions, or just needing to have people to work the fields.  Labor could always be remitted just because of something good like a good omen, but in the aftermath of a devastating earthquake, I wonder if there wasn't a lot of rebuilding that had to take place, and maybe the court just wanted to make sure those regions had the people they needed for those projects. The Tousandou and the Toukaidou were just two of the 7 official circuits around the archipelago.  In this case, the Toukaidou hugged the coastal areas, heading from Ise out to modern Tokyo.  Meanwhile, the Tousandou would have cut through the mountains in the middle of that area of Honshu, passing north of Fuji and through modern Gunma.    The other circuits were the San'youdou, the San'indou, the Nankaidou, the Hokurikudou, and Tsukushi, which was considered its own "circuit".  The San'youdou and San'indou were the Yang and Yin roads, going through the western part of Honshu. The San'youdou was along the Seto Inland Sea, while the San'indou was along the Japan sea.  The Nankaidou, or South Sea Road, was the Kii peninsula and Shikoku.  The Hokurikudou went north on eastern Honshu, through the Koshi region. Finally, Tsukushi, which would also be known as the Saikaidou, or Western Sea Road, was its own circuit In the 9th lunar month of 685 we see Commissioners or Royal Messengers appointed to six of the seven circuits, the Hokurikudou being the one left out.    The commissioners were to tour and inspect the provincial and district offices and make sure they were good.  Each person took a facility manager and a secretary to assist them.  Bentley notes that there is, in later legal codes, a role of "Inspector", who was similarly expected to tour and inspect the various provinces – but these were assigned on an as needed basis, so it wasn't a permanent position. Along with the inspection of the government offices, there was one other edict that same day in the 9th month of 685: the court ordered that male and female singers, as well as pipers/flute-players should pass down their skills to their descendants and make them practice singing and the flute.  Thus they effectively created hereditary musicians which, at the time, was how you made sure that you had the different professions and skillsets you needed to run the State. Then, in the 11th month of 685, we see a bunch of iron sent to the General Magistrate of Suwa.  How much is a bunch?  10,000 kin, which is thought to be equivalent to roughly 6.6 tons.  That is a huge amount of iron, assuming the record is true.  At the same time, the viceroy of Tsukushi requested 100 bolts of coarse silk, 132 pounds of thread, 300 bundles of cloth, 4000 feet of labor tax cloth, 6.6 tons of iron, and 2,000 sets of bamboo arrows.   And by all accounts, the court sent it all out.  No idea why—but there we go.  Presumably it was to make things—probably clothing and weapons. We see something similar in the 12th month, when the ships carrying the newest border guards out to Tsukushi were battered by bad seas and, eventually, they were left adrift in the water.  They were rescued, but lost all of their clothing, so rather than sending clothes, the court sent cloth.  450 bolts of cloth were sent, to be made into new sets of clothing for the soldiers.  Sending raw materials makes sense.  After all, there were likely artisans all over the place who just needed them.  Furthermore, that way you could customize the equipment to the people who would be using it, rather than shipping off finished goods. And with that, I think we are going to call it.  Next episode will be a similar overview, but we'll take a look at some of the laws that were passed, as well as how they dealt with law and order in the archipelago. 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.  

Over a six-month period from October 2024 until March 2025, CEAS Associate Director David Fields had the incredible opportunity to record an extensive oral history with Hyuk YU, emeritus professor of Chemistry at the University of Wisconsin–Madison. While he is best known as a chemist, this oral history focused on Professor Yu's early life in Korea. Born in 1933, Professor YU was an eye-witness to many of the historical events that shaped the Korean peninsula in the first half of the 20th century. In this episode, we will discuss his experiences during the opening weeks of the Korean War. Unlike millions of other Koreans, Professor YU's family chose not to flee further south during the war, but to ride out the conflict in Incheon. This decision surely spared them from some hardships, but exposed them to others. This episode was co-produced, edited, and mastered by Nate Gass. Jihoon Suk selected, restored, and digitally transferred the music on this episode. Music Credits 삼수갑산 Samsu Gapsan Sung by Kang Hongsik 강홍식 Lyrics by Kim Anseo 김안서(김억) Music by Kim Kyoseong 김교성 Recorded on May 9th, 1933 Originally issued as Victor 49233-A in September 1933. 신라의 달밤 Silla-ui Dalbam Sung by Hyeon In 현인 Lyrics by Yu Ho 유호 Composed by Park Sichun 박시춘 Originally issued as Lucky L7701-A in May 1949 도라지타령 Doraji-Taryeong Sung by Kang Namhyang, Ko Boksu, Yi Nanyong 강남향, 고복수, 이난영 Traditional (Folksong) Originally issued as Okeh 1696-A in January 1935. 타향 Tahyang Sung by Ko Boksu 고복수 Lyrics by Keum Neung-in 금능인 Composed by Sohn Mokin 손목인 Originally issued as Okeh 1677-B in April 1934

Que sí, que si, que el Baskonia ganó la Copa del Rey de Básquet, que sí, pero...No sé si Vds saben que somos una potencia en baloncesto en silla de ruedas. Que, por cierto, es uno de los deportes más populares en el programa paralímpico. Comenzó como una manera de rehabilitar a los soldados estadounidenses durante la II Guerra Mundial y ahora se practica en más de 80 países del mundo. Las reglas son las mismas que en la modalidad de a pie. La cancha tiene las mismas medidas, las canastas a la misma altura...la única diferencia consiste en que los jugadores deben botar o pasar la pelota después de empujar la silla dos veces. Si tengo yo que coordinar todo esto, he perdido varios dientes.Desde hace unas horas, ya tenemos también nuevo campeón de la Copa del Rey de baloncesto en silla de ruedas.El BSR Amiab de Albacete llevaba ocho finales en la Copa del Rey y una sola victoria, y de esas ocho finales, tres consecutivas. Y a la cuarta fue. Se consiguió ...

Podcast presentado por Toni Asensio y producido por RadioEsport Valencia en colaboración con la Federació de Futbol de la Comunitat Valenciana.

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.

For the first regular episode of the year (excepting our New Year's recap) we take a look at the New Year Traditions at Temmu's court.  How did the court celebrate the New Year in the late 7th century? For more, check out our blogpost:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-141 Rough Transcript: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 141: Temmu's New Year's Traditions   The chill winter air meant that most of the assembled crowd had donned multiple layers of robes.  Men and women had assembled together, upon the open, rock-covered courtyard, both to see and be seen.  To the north and east of the courtyard were the walls and gates of the buildings that made up the royal palace, the rooves of the buildings just visible beyond the gates. The onlookers stood arrayed around the open lanes that had been created for the event—at one end of the rocky field were targets, while at the other were archers, also arrayed in their finest outfits.  While technically they wore hunting robes, cut to allow greater movement in the arm, many of these fabrics had no business being anywhere near a moor or the dirt of open fields.  After all, this wasn't just some hunt:  They were demonstrating their skills in the center of the State.  At the officials' command, the archers let loose their arrows.  The crowd murmured at the soft crack of the bowstring, the faint whisper of arrow as the fletchings cut through the air, and the thud as the arrows struck their targets.  Looking downrange, approval bubbled through the crowd: the targets were well-struck.  Behind the archers on the field, another group awaited their turn. The events of the day would be the talk of the court, from the lowest clerk to the highest prince , for days to come.   Not just the well-placed shot, but also the grace and poise of the one who had let loose an arrow of particular note.  And heaven forbid an arrow miss its target.  Even kicking up stones or scraping the earth could have negative social consequences.  A particularly good showing could inspire poetry, and beyond the prizes being offered to the winner, could also bring notice to those from more obscure backgrounds. The new year had just started, and a good performance might be just what was needed to help put the rest of the year on a good footing.     Welcome back!  This is the first episode of the new year, 2026, and we are still going through the reign of Ohoama, aka Temmu Tenno, covering the period from 672 to 686. Before we get started, though, a quick shout out to Suzuki for supporting us on Patreon.  It means a lot and helps us keep this thing going.  If you would like to support us or our efforts to maintain the website, where we also have the Armor manual, clothing, and a miscellany on various topics, we have information at Sengokudaimyo.com and we will have more information at the end of this and every episode.  Support is appreciated as I really do want to try and minimize ads—I don't put any into the podcast myself, though some platforms may place ads around the podcast, which I cannot always control.  Now we've covered a lot this reign, but this episode we are going to cover three things in particular.  First off, and perhaps a bit of a tangent, we'll talk about some of the issues with the Chronicles when it comes to reading it,especially in translation.  It seems quite clear to me that even the sources that the Chroniclers were using weren't always in agreement with each other on how they spelled certain things or even in properly recording when things happened. After that we'll cover the major topics of this episode, focusing primarily on the New Year traditions of the court—we'll look at the major events of the first month for each year in the reign, allowing us to see some of the similarities, and differences. Finally, we'll look at the last year of Ohoama's reign, particularly as he grew ill, because it can be a fascinating question:  What did people do when disease struck before we had modern medicine?  Here the Chronicles reveal a lot about not only the beliefs of the time, but of their syncretism: how people were willing to reach out to whatever power they could in order to cure disease.  Whether it was Yin-yang divination, beseeching the local kami, or attempting to make merit, all of these things were on the table when it came to illness and mortality. And so, let's get into it. One of the first things I want to talk about is the problem that we have in trying to read the Chronicles, both in the way they are written and then the translation issue on top of that.  Even in Japanese the Chronicles have to be translated out of an ancient form of kanbun—basically a Japanese version of Chinese, using Sinitic characters.  Like any document written by non-native speakers, the Chronicles have their idiosyncrasies that make it different from what someone in Chang'an might be writing at the same time.  There are times and places where it is clear that something is meant to be read in the Japanese pronunciation, which itself was different from modern Japanese.  Add to this the fact that there are many times that different Sinitic characters sound alike in Japanese—especially in modern Japanese.  So any English translation of the Chronicles which doesn't give the actual characters in the source text can add to the confusion.  This is why I like to consult either the Japanese Historical Text Initiative or an electronic version of the National History series text—though even those have issues at times when the characters used in the text don't exist in modern character sets, though that seems to be less and less of a problem. One example I want to give of the complexities of reading the Chronicles, and the need to dive deeper into the original language and consult multiple versions, is a set of records for Ki no Omi no Abemaro and others.  He is our first mention of a member of the Ki family: on the 9th day of the 8th month of 673, the first year since Ohoama's ascension and one year after the Jinshin no Ran, we are told that Ki no Omi no Abemaro and others were given favors and rewards for their service during the war in Iga province.  Indeed, Ki no Omi no Abemaro is listed prominently in the records of the Jinshin no Ran and appears to have been one of the generals for Ohoama and the Yoshino faction in general.  Less than a year later, on the 28th day of the 2nd month, Ki no Omi no Abemaro died and was posthumously awarded the rank of Daishi, which was 5th from the top in the old system of 26 ranks.  A rather respectable rank, to be sure. Later that same year we get a note that Ki no Omi no KATAmaro—another member of the family, apparently--was appointed, along with a "Prince Mino" as a commissioner for the erection of the Great Temple of Takechi. Two years later, however, we get a record on the 22nd day of the 4th month of 676 that the sovereign, Ohoama, sent an order to the Governor of Mino telling him to let the children of Ki no Omi no Abemaro, resident in the district of Toki, be removed to the East country and become peasants in that country.  On the face of it, this appears to be an incredible fall from grace.  Ki no Omi no Abemaro is basically one of the top generals and heroes of the Jinshin no Ran, but his children are so unruly that they are banished to the East and stripped of their noble status?  There has to be a story there, right? Then in 679, on the 3rd day of the 2nd month, we are told that Ki no Omi no Katamaro died.  For his service in the Jinshin War he received the posthumous rank of Upper Daikin.  That would have been roughly the 7th rank—two below Ki no Abemaro.  So was the Ki family back in the good graces of the court?  What is going on? First off, when we go to the original text, we see that Aston, whose translation of the Nihon Shoki we've been working on Ihas made an apparent error in translation.  Remember, Aston was translating the Chronicles back in 1896, without the aid of modern computers, along with a lot of other research that has happened since then, and I can hardly fault him for missing things here and there.  This is why, if you cannot check the original, you may want to also look at the new translation from John Bentley.  Here we can see that he translates the name not as "Ki no Omi no Abemaro", but rather that of "Ki no Omi no KASAmaro".  And if we compare Ki no Omi no KaSAmaro with the previous entry on Ki no Omi no KaTAmaro we can see that these are actually the exact same names except for a single character.  Which leads us to the question:  Are these the same person, and the scribes simply miswrote one of the characters in the name?  It may not even be on the Chroniclers so much as whatever texts they were, themselves, working on.  This isn't helped by the fact that we later on see another entry for Ki no KATAmaro, but that one uses character for "KATA", meaning "hard", using the kun'yomi, or Japanese reading, rather than using two phonetic characters in the on'yomi reading.  So is this just another way to write "KATAmaro" or is this a different person altogether? Ultimately, we cannot be entirely sure.  It does seem wild that there would be two "Ki no Omi no Katamaro" at court at the same time and nobody otherwise distinguished the two.  The question about KaSAmaro and KaTAmaro, and whose kids were sent into exile, is a bit harder to untangle. And, truth be told, it is ultimately a minor point.  We have only a couple of lines here, and maybe these passages will help illuminate something later in the histories, but for now, they are just fragments of the story of what was happening.  Parts of the tattered tapestry from which the royal history was ripped out and restitched together, the rest of the story largely discarded, unless it made its way to us through other means. The Chronicles may be flawed, but they are still our main source for the period, and while we might challenge individual items, we still get a glimpse at how things operated back at this time.  For instance, if we look at the events happening around the New Year, we can see some common threads. The New Year is an important tradition in many cultures.  Whether it was a solar or lunar cycle—or some combination—the new year indicated a new cycle, and was often accompanied by associated symbols and rituals.  Today in the US it is often celebrated with fireworks and champagne, followed by making resolutions for the new year.  In Japan, people will often go to their local shrine or temple for an important first visit, and temple bells will ring out 108 times. Another tradition is the osechi-ryori, the  traditional new years foods.  This has grown over time from a tradition of eating a large bowl of rice to various other foods that are seen as auspicious or having special properties, such as the hardening of teeth—a major concern before the era of modern dental hygiene!  Then there are traditions such as the Kagami Biraki, or opening of the mirror, and the creation of special mochi, or rice cakes for the purpose.  Of course all of these traditions started somewhere and have evolved over time, so what do we know about the New Year celebrations during the late 7th century? One caveat: in the Chronicles, we only really see what was happening in the court, and the Yamato court at that.  There may have been local traditions that others were following that, unless we find documentation about them, we likely would never know.  But many of the court traditions were passed down to later generations. These traditions appear to include the giving of gifts; large, celebratory banquets; and the annual archery tournament. Banquets are some of the first and most common things we see.  We see a banquet as Ohoama assumed the throne in 673—which probably was the event that overshadowed anything else they might have done that year.  The following year, 674, there doesn't seem to have been much recorded, and I wonder if they were still pulling everything together after the turmoil of Ohoama's ascension.  And so it is that in the first month of 675 we really get to see the annual new year's events in their full form.  On the second day of that year, from the Royal Princes on down, all of the public functionaries presented their respects to the sovereign.  I suspect that this was a large ceremony, where everyone gathered in the courtyard of the palace together or something similar, not that each person individually went up and presented their respects—I doubt Ohoama would have wanted to sit through all of that.  Also, as we've already seen, there were limits on what parts of the palace different functionaries were allowed to enter.  So some of these well-wishers may have been "outside", others in the courtyard, and others in the palace building itself, depending on their rank and importance in the bureaucratic hierarchy. On the following day, all public functionaries, from the initial rank upwards, presented firewood.  Aston notes that this is the first mention of what would become a yearly practice.  Firewood may not seem like much, but it would have likely been important to keeping things running, especially given how early people were supposed to arrive at the palace and administrative complex each day.  This wasn't firewood for a fireplace—they didn't have those—but probably would have been used either for cooking or, I suspect, for the large braziers that burned with wood and pitch to light the darkness, particularly in the winter months.  Firewood could also be processed into smaller pieces of coal for other uses.  It is interesting that for the first ceremony, the Chronicles describe the court from the Royal Princes on down, while for the giving of firewood the order is from the initial—which is to say the lowest—ranks upwards.  This could indicate the order in which things progressed in these cases. Several days after that, on the 7th day of the first month, a banquet was given at court for the Ministers—so only the higher ranking functionaries.  But ten days later, on the 17th, everyone of rank—the Ministers of State; the Daibu, or high officials; and all of the public functionaries from the initial rank upwards had an archery meeting in the Court of the Western Gate. Archery and archery contests had been important to the Yamato people for ages—and the same on the continent.  Confucius, in his day, suggested that archery was a martial skill that even nobles should cultivate.  I believe we've noted before how archery could be used both for warfare and for just feeding your family.  As such, it was considered a particularly useful skill for just about everyone to have.  It probably also helped that it was a martial skill that noblemen and others could use to show off without actually risking any injury to themselves in the process.  I'm just saying.  And as we described at the top of the episode, this particular archery contest would, for both participants and spectators, likely have been a chance to show off the top of their game, whether in martial prowess, clothing, or behavior. And since we are looking at the new year's celebrations, let's keep this going and look at later years in Ohoama's reign. As I go through these you'll start to see the patterns, where the events I've just described will generally recur year after year, but not identically, sometimes with a shuffle in the schedule. In 676, we see that the Ministers and public functionaries pay their respects on the first day of the new year.  On the 4th day, the sovereign granted gifts to the higher level officials, from Royal Prince Takechi, down to the high officials, or Daibu, of Shoukin rank.  Their not so secret Santa gifts included robes, hakama, lined garments, obi for their waist, leg straps, and staves, or walking sticks.  We are also told that everyone above the rank of Shoukin also got an armrest thrown in, as well.  Further gifts or grants were given out several days later, on the 7th, to everyone from Shoukin on up, based on their individual circumstances.  Then, on the 15th, we again see all of the functionaries present firewood and then they were all entertained at a court banquet. The following day they held the annual new year's archery contest, with prizes, at the court of the western gate.  Those who hit the target received prizes of different values.  In his recent translation of the Nihon Shoki, Bentley references Kuroita on Article 41 of Miscellaneous Statutes, saying that this archery event was apparently a regular new year's occurrence, and even the prizes were noted as varying over time. The same day they held the archery contest, that year, Ohoama held a banquet at the Shima Palace.  Shima was the name given to the Soga Prime Minister, back in the day, so I assume that this was at or near the site of the old Soga residence? In 677, by comparison, we don't see nearly as much referenced.  There is archery at the South Gate, vice the west gate, but that is it.  The festivities in 678 similarly only talk about the archery at the south gate.  There is also mention of a preparation for worshipping the kami of heaven and earth, for which a purification was held throughout the state.  In addition, an abstinence palace, or saiguu, was erected on the bank of the Kurahashi river.  Kurahashi appears to refer to a tributary of the Ohara river, in Sakurai.  This feels less like a New Year's celebration, however, and more like a sign of merit-making.  The Saiguu would have likely been to prepare for a trip to Ise shrine, and three months later Ohoama was preparing to go to the Saiguu, but that is when Princess Towochi suddenly died, and they scuttled the plans. In 679, the court greeted the New Year with a new decree.  Ohoama declared that Princes, Ministers, and public functionaries—anyone in service to the government, basically, were to refrain from paying respects during New Years or other ceremonies to anyone except relatives of the grade of elder brother, elder sister, and above, or to the senior members of the Houses.  Princes weren't even to pay respects to their own mothers unless they were, themselves, princesses.  Ministers were likewise not to pay respects to their mothers if they were of "mean" rank.  In other words, if they were commoners. These kinds of statutes are interesting.  First of all, you ask yourself why?  In all likelihood, there were various local traditions and individuals paid respects to their parents as well as to others to whom they owed respect for one reason or another.  Here the State is ordering society such that there is a clear hierarchy, at least among the members of the court.   Since women often found advancement by marrying up, it was usual for one's mother to have been born a lower rank in society than oneself.  And so we see them enforcing the social order. That new order was based on Confucian concepts of hierarchy, and this seems to go along with those same ideas. What we don't really see is how this was enforced—if at all.  The day after that, the yearly archery competition took place at the West Gate of the palace. The next year, 680, we see a New Year's Banquet at the Court of the Great Hall.  Ohoama himself occupied the Mukai-kodono, which appears to refer to one of the smaller wings.  Based on the palace layout that we see in the posthole remains, this probably means that he was set up in the smaller wing, likely in a more intimate space, while most of the other guests were in the large hall, maintaining that crucial separation of sovereign and subjects. This New Year's archery event included Princes of the Blood all the way down to the rank of Shouken—the very lowest rank in the court—and it was held at the South Gate. You may be noticing a pattern, that the archery competition is listed as being held at either the south or west gates.  The south gate probably refers to the main gate of the later Okamoto—aka the Kiyomihara—palace.  The West gate refers to the west gate of the Ebinoko enclosure.   We talked about these and the general layout of the palace back in Episode 134, and you can check out that podcast blog post for some images of what things looked like, as well.  These gates were on the north and east sides of a large, rectangular courtyard, which was likely the actual event location.  So it isn't as if these were separate areas, just a difference of where things were set up in what was otherwise the same relative space. The following year, 681, we see similar ceremonies.  We see offerings made to the kami of Heaven and Earth, and we once again see a note about various functionaries paying their respects at court.  Even though this wasn't mentioned every year, it could have been an annual thing and just wasn't always recorded so the Chroniclers just wrote down what they had records for.  There are certainly other things we don't necessarily witness in the records, such as the annual promotions and promulgations.  We see irregular promotions, of course, such as on someone's passing, but the regular administration of the government and promotions of people to new positions is not something we really see regularly documented, since it doesn't really shed much light on the sovereign and the royal household.  And so we sometimes see things if they get mentioned, but otherwise we only see glimpses.  That would change as records became more administrative and the histories were more about simply recording what was happening—though still from a particular angle.  At this point, however, we aren't dealing with a single court record, but rather with numerous records, stories, and recollections.  That same year, 681, we also see another banquet, with Ohoama situated in the Mukai no Kodono, while the Princes of the Blood and non-royal Princes were both introduced into the inner reception chamber.  Ministers attended in the outer reception chamber.  They all received sake and musical performances, and rank advancements were given out.  Kusakabe no Kihi no Ohogata was graduated from the rank of Upper Daisen to Lower Daikin, and given the title of Naniwa no Muraji.  A few days later, Sakahibe no Muraji no Iwazumi was granted a fief with 60 horses and received presents of coarse silk, floss silk, cloth, and one hundred mattocks—the last one being a rather interesting gift, I have to admit.  Of course, in true Chronicles fashion, we have no idea why these gifts were made—we don't even have another reference to Iwazumi around there, but he must have done something. We are later told that there was the annual archery shoot, and then a decree, possibly unrelated to New Years, that the various provinces were ordered to repair the shrines to the kami of heaven and earth. The year 682 is an anomaly.  There is no mention of a banquet, nor of an archery tournament.  I wonder if this may have to do with some of the sad events of that first month.  While it started fine—Toneri no Miyatsuko no Nukamushi was raised from Daisen to Lower Shoukin—we are told that on the 18th, Lady Higami, one of Ohoama's consorts, died in the palace.  The next day there was an earthquake, and she was buried on the 27th.  A prominent illness and death may have put a pall on the ceremonies, and could explain why we don't see any mention of them for that year. It is also possible that some of this New Year tradition had become so routine that people were no longer commenting on it, and therefore the Chroniclers weren't including references to it. The following year, in 683, we again see the functionaries paying their respects.  We also see the presentation of a three legged sparrow by the Viceroy of Tsukushi, Tajihi no Mabito no Shima, along with others.  A three legged sparrow would have been something: it is reminiscent of the three legged crow, often depicted in the sun.  It is unclear if it was still alive, but that wasn't the point.  They invited the Princes of the Blood down to the Ministers to great hall, the Daigokuden, for a banquet, where the three legged sparrow was displayed. .  Later that month, Ohoama issued a decree in regards to all of the auspicious omens and made presents to everyone, from Shouken rank upwards.  There was also a general amnesty—all crimes were pardoned, from capital offenses on down, and all forced labor was remitted, so that people didn't have to provide the normal service.  The phrasing for this particular entry is intriguing.  Ohoama is mentioned as Yamato Neko Sumera no Mikoto and is specifically called a "God Incarnate".  This is one of the rare times that we see the Chronicles explicitly call out the sovereign as a living deity.  Of course, they trace the royal lineage back to Amaterasu, but there isn't a lot suggesting that the sovereign is necessarily a deity. And in reality, this was probably something that was more honorific than anything else.  Heck, at times in Japanese history we would see sovereigns selling their calligraphy to help keep the royal palace funded while warriors went around actually being in charge of things.  However, this divine language did show up in the 19th and 20th century, especially as the Tennou, now called Emperor in English terminology, once again was recognized as the Head of State, and people would actually pray to him.  Not necessarily like praying at a shrine, but out of respect.  And remember, a lot of time the Tennou was kept out of sight of regular people and hidden, much like the way that the kami were treated.  The concept of the Emperor's divinity was very much tied up in the elevation of the State and the general sense of Nationalism that had gripped Japan in the early half of the 20th century.  And so the allies quite explicitly had Emperor Showa renounce his divinity after Japan  World War II. Those studying Japanese history have probably heard of this concept, and so it is interesting to see evidence of it here, as well as the nature of the royal house, where the sovereign is kept at a distance from those of lower rank, unless they are directly serving him.  But it was not as though the sovereign was a god in the sense of being all powerful.  Even if he were considered a living, visible kami, the kami were not omnipotent, and there was no getting over the fact that our particular sovereign, Ohoama, was getting older.  Only a year or so earlier, he had suffered a rather bad illness, so he clearly was not invincible.  And it is of course possible that this language was simply royal exaggeration, rather than any attempt to define the sovereign as something more than he was.  Still, that concept would continue to play a part throughout Japanese history. The same day in 683 that Ohoama issued the pardons, we are told that there was a special performance at the Woharida Court of dance and music from Goguryeo, Baekje, and Silla—the "Three Countries" of the Korean peninsula, even if only one of them was still going strong.  The Woharida palace is thought to have been north, along the banks of the Asuka River.  It may have been moved over time—there appears to have been a palace in the Furumiya area, near Toyoura, but there is also evidence of a palace by a shared name over by Ikazuchi-no-oka, on the other side of the river.  Excavations at Ikazuchi no oka revealed pottery with the name of the palace, suggesting that this was the site, but even then, that pottery was from the later Tempyo era.  Regardless, it seems that the Asuka valley was just chock full of palaces, new and old, though the older ones were not as regularly used for government functions, one assumes. The following year, 684, we again get told about the annual archery shoot.  It took place in the Eastern court this time, with Ministers in attendance.  Apparently they had men skilled in archery shooting alongside palace attendants and little people—the word used in Japanese is "Shuju" or "Hikihito".  This word is often translated as "dwarf"; it appears to be a derogatory term for anyone considered short of stature, though it is also used to refer more generally to those seen as either lacking wit or to actors and performers. This isn't the first time we see the term.  Back in 675, about 9 years prior, Ohoama had sent orders to a number of regions near the capital, from Awaji to Tamba, to Afumi and to Mino and Wohari, among others, to send as tribute common people who could sing, shuju—or dwarfs—and jugglers.  More generally they seem to be referring to entertainers, and it strikes me that could be what is meant here.  Either way, the entertainment industry was hardly a lucrative one, and we can see that performers are almost more of a commodity, to be "paid" as tribute, rather than a professional who is "hired" to work.  I suspect that, as in many other times and places, individuals who were shorter than average often found work as entertainers in this sense—whether they wished it or not. The year 685 we don't see any mention of archery, though it probably still happened.  Instead the Chronicles focus on the various government officials paying their respects to their sovereign.  The rest of the entries for the month are largely concerned with changes to the rank system as of that year. The year 686, we get the last records of various new years festivals—four months later, the sovereign would grow terribly ill, and he would eventually pass away later that year.  However, for those still celebrating the new year in 686, that was all in the future. The last year of Ohoama's reign started out relatively like others. Ohoama went to the Daigokuden, the Great Hall of Audience, and gave a banquet to the Princes and High Officials.  There he decided to have something of a riddle challenge.  He would ask riddles, and then offer prizes for the correct answer. And no, unfortunately we don't have any of the riddles, at least that I have seen.  Aston calls these "conundrums" and notes that they are specifically nonsensical questions, and provides examples such as "Why does a horse, after a rapid run, listen to the earth? Why does a dog, when he goes slowly, raise his leg?"  Ohoama's son, Prince Takechi, answered correctly, and so did Prince Ise.  Their prizes differed in content, but in both cases were pretty extensive.  The winners received ceremonial robes, brocade or purple hakama, numerous bolts of coarse silk, many pounds of thread, hundreds of pounds of flossed Silk, and hundreds of bolts of cloth. I think that makes it quite a bit more lucrative than any of the quiz nights I've ever been to. Later that month, there was another banquet, this time for nine Buddhist monks of Daikan-daiji. Besides its status as a national temple, this may have also been related to the year before, when Ohoama had fallen ill, and prayers had been offered at Daikandaiji for his recovery.  The courthad likewise provided gifts to the temple in the last month of the previous year, and then, at the banquet, gave to the attending monks silk and cloth, based on their rank. But that wasn't the end of the gifts.  The following day the Princes and High Officials all received upper garments and hakama—likely referring to official garments—each getting one suit, each. Then, on the 13th day of the new year, the court invited 20 exceptional individuals to a banquet.  These were talented people, professors, divination specialists, and physicians.  They were also wined and dined and presented various gifts. On the 16th day, the Princes and High Officials were then invited to a banquet in the Daigokuden.  They were given gifts of silk and cloth, based on their rank.  Then they held another riddle competition, with correct answers rewarded with gifts of coarse and flossed silk. This was only a short time after disaster had struck, though a bit removed—two days earlier, in the evening, the royal storehouse at Naniwa had caught fire, eventually burning the entire Toyosaki palace complex to the ground.  Some claimed that it was actually started at a private residence,  that of Ato no Muraji no Kusuri, and then spread to the Palace.  In the end, only the military storehouse was spared. This would have been quite the tragedy for the government, but it did not halt the festivities happening down in Asuka.  The Naniwa Palace appears to have been a major government center for the administration of the state, but it was not the royal court which had been in Asuka for over a decade.  Indeed, I imagine that the news probably reached Asuka around the time of the Banquet itself. And yet, rather than putting a damper on the festivities, they continued another couple of days – presumably everything was already prepared and there was no point in canceling.  On the 17th, the court sponsored a banquet in the rear palace, presumably for the Queen and members of the imperial family.  Then the following day there was a great revel at the palace.  Ohoama took his place in front of the royal muro and made presents to performers, as well as to the singers.  As before everything varied according to rank. Asuka wasn't the only place to get in on the festivities.  The same month, the court also sponsored a banquet for the Silla envoys in Tsukushi, sending Prince Kawachi and others. Regrettably, that would be the last new year that Ohoama would see.  In the fifth month, he grew ill, and what we see in the Chronicles after that is an interesting look into how people of the time dealt with sickness. First, the court had the Sutra of Yakushi expounded at Kawaradera and held a Buddhist retreat in the palace, inviting monks to come and expound Buddhist teachings.  Yakushi, or Yakushi Nyorai—Bhaisajyaguru in Sanskrit—was known as the Medicine Buddha, and his name in Sinitic characters was basically "Master of Medicine".  It is said that he was responsible for the Eastern Pure Land, and that, as a Bodhisattva, he had made 12 great vows to cure the illnesses of all living beings in the world.  For that reason, Yakushi Nyorai was often called upon to cure illness.  In fact, six years earlier, when the Queen, Uno no Sarara Hime, had taken ill, Ohoama erected an entire temple to Yakushi Nyorai, known as Yakushiji.  He then had 100 people take vows as priests, and they attributed her recovery to this effort. In this case, however, it seems that it didn't have quite such an effect, and Ohoama remained under the weather.  We are also told that the court sent Palace Attendants, the Oho-toneri, to clean the pagodas of various temples and that a general amnesty was announced for all under heaven, emptying the prisons.  All of this points to the idea of making merit in the hope of bringing good karma, and thus healing. But the following month, Ohoama was still ill.  Divination was performed by the Onmyoji, the court diviners, and they claimed that there was a curse from Kusanagi, the sword that is considered one of the three main royal symbols.  This is the sword that was said to have been found by Susanowo in the tale of Yamata no Worochi, and which gained its name, Kusanagi, when used by Yamato Takeru, cutting down the grass to save him when his enemies tried to catch him by setting fire to the field where he was hunting.  For more on that, check out Episodes 34 and 35. Given the importance of Kusanagi, I suspect that the idea of destroying it to remove the curse was out of the question, and so it was sent to Atsuta Shrine, where it was enshrined and would largely stay except when needed for enthronement ceremonies.  And yet, even after the sword was taken away, the illness remained.  Six days later, on the 16th day of the 6th month, the court sent Prince Ise and officials to Asukadera and asked the monks there to make and oath with the Buddha to make Ohoama whole through the power of the Three Treasures of Buddhism.   For their work, the three Buddhist Officers, the Master of the Law, and the Upadhyaya and temple directors, as well as those monks with the rank of "master" each received a donation of one robe and one cover, or "Ohi". Three days later, the court ordered the hundred officials to go to Kawaradera and perfom the ceremony of lighting lanterns and giving offerings to Buddha.  Then they held a great feast and offered repentance for their transgressions.  All of this sounds like a continued attempt to make merit for the state, and thus for Ohoama. We then see the court granting the monks Hounin and Gishou 30 stipend-households to provide for them in their old age, which may be more merit-making, or possibly was related to some of the many other activities so far.  There are a few issues with this entry, and Aston and Bentley don't seem to agree on the actual date.  Bentley has it on the 28th, but that seems odd as it comes before the entry for the 22nd of the same month.  Aston has it as the 20th, but then claimes that there is something odd about the date of the 22nd. On the 22nd, we are simply told that the district kitchen of Nabari caught fire.  Aston notes that this would have been the official government arm in the district gathering food to supply the royal household—rather than being a kitchen in terms of a place to prepare food. Merit-making continued into the 7th month.  We see the Soujou and Soudzu, the primary and secondary prelates of the Asukadera, performing ritual repentance.  The following day there is another general amnesty, and Aston specifically mentions performing a Oho-harai, or cleansing. The day after taxes were halved from the provinces and corvee labor with local conscripted labor was exempted for the year.  Then we see the court presenting paper offerings to the Kunikasu Kami in Ki provinces, as well as the four shrines in Asuka and the Great Suminoe—aka Sumiyoshi—shrine. On the 8th day of the 7th month, 100 monks were invited to the court to read the Golden Light Sutra—Konkoymyou kyou.  And on the 15th there was another court issued amnesty. Despite all of these attempts to make merit and intercede with the Buddha or with various kami, Ohoama's illness continued.  We see that the court issued a decree that all things that should occur, great or small, should be reported to the queen and the crown prince—presumably because Ohoama was no longer in a state to be able to do so. Continuing with their efforts, the court declared that destitute commoners who had been forced to borrow rice seed or money before the 12th month of the previous year would be exempted from repayment.  And then the court changed the name of the year to Akami-tori, or Shuuchou.  They also renamed the palace in Asuka to "Kiyomihara"—again, go check Episode 134 for more on the palace.  "Shuuchou" is the Red Bird, likely referring to Suzaku, though Aston also points out that "Asuka" here is given as "flying bird", as well, and there had been numerous bird-related omens reported throughout the reign. Although these names would not have been used prior to this point—the 7th month of the final year of the reign—the Chroniclers applied the nengo, Shuuchou, to all of the entries for this year, and the name of the palace is often given as "Kiyomihara" is given to distinguish it from the Later Okamoto Palace, even though it was simply the latter palace with the addition of the Ebinoko enclosure. The changing of the era name was likely another attempt to change the seemingly inauspicious year, along with all of the merit-making that the court had been undergoing. And yet they kept going. The court selected 70 people who were diligent in keeping Buddhist laws and had them take the tonsure, and they sponsored a feast—or festival—in the Royal Muro of the Palace. At the same time the various princes had a statue of the Boddhisatva of Compassion, Kannon, made for the sovereign and had the Lotus sutra—the sutra where Kannon is first mentioned—read out at Daikandaiji. Kannon, or Avalokitesvara, was originally seen as a male Boddhisatva, but is often depicted as a woman.  They are also known as Guanyin, from which we get Kannon in Japanese.  Guanyin is also seen as Goddess of Mercy, and is one of the most popular figures across multiple sects of Buddhism and even outside of the Buddhist faith, where she is still seen as a goddess.  In this case, however, it seems clear that the princes were seeking compassion to relieve the sovereign of his affliction. And yet it persisted. They had 80 more people take the tonsure, and then 100 more men and women, placed 100 statues of the Boddhisatva, Kannon, in the palace, and then read out 200 volumes of the Lotus Sutra. And then they made prayers to the kami of Heaven and Earth.  And they dispatched Hata no Imiki no Iwakatsu to present paper offerings to the Tosa great shrine.  Nothing seemed to be working. In the 9th month, we see the royal princes and others, down to the various ministers, all gathered at Kawaradera making oaths for the health of the sovereigns.  This last ditch effort would go unrewarded.  Five days later, and Ohoama would pass away.  Of course, they couldn't just say that he died:  The Chronicles actually say that he divinely departed.  After all, didn't they call him an incarnate kami? Two days later, the court began the ritual of mourning, raising voices in lamentation, and setting up a temporary palace of interment in the courtyard, south of the palace.  Ohoama's body was placed there some thirteen days later, and people mourned his passing. For the rituals, we see monks and nuns performing ritual lamentation in the courtyard between 3 and 5 am, around the time that court officials would normally be waiting at the gates.  Over the next several days, various ceremonies were held and eulogies given.  We are told that the court presented offerings of food for the dead for the first time, and over the next several days monks and nuns would offer their laments and then various individuals would provide their eulogies.  Finally, on the last day of the ninth month, the eulogies concluded with Nyang-u, a Baekje prince, who pronounced a eulogy on behalf of his father, and then the Miyatsuko of various provinces came and did likewise.  There were also performances of all manner of singing and dancing. With that, the reign of Ohoama would come to an end.  The government would continue under his wife, the Queen, and Crown Prince.  We'll get into the succession in a later episode.  For now I'll just say that he was eventually buried in a large tomb in the modern Noguchi area of Asuka, and you can still go see it. And while that does bring us to the end of the reign, we still have a few more things that I want to discuss.   This episode just seemed a good time to talk about all of the various new years ceremonies, and that seemed to lead naturally into the very last year, but there is still more to discuss.  For one thing, we still haven't quite covered the spread of Buddhism and the changes in the structure.  There are also various laws and punishments that are worth covering.  Finally, there are the Chronicles themselves: we've talked about it all along, but the Nihon Shoki and the Kojiki are attributed to this era, as is the start of what would become the capital of Fujiwara-kyo—many works that Ohoama would not live to see to the end, but is largely held responsible for starting. But 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.  

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Giovanni Brizzi"Imperium"Il potere a RomaEditori Laterzawww.laterza.itCos'era il potere a Roma antica? Un console, un tribuno, un triumviro, di quale autorità erano provvisti e per quali fini? Come veniva giustificata l'esistenza stessa di un uomo al comando e a chi doveva rendere conto? L'imperium di Cesare era diverso da quello di Augusto o di Giustiniano?Il potere a Roma nello studio originale e innovativo di uno dei più grandi storici dell'antichità.La vicenda di Roma, lungo tutto il suo percorso millenario, è accompagnata da un concetto particolarissimo e originale: quello espresso nel termine imperium. Questo vocabolo traduce il rapporto tra il potere nella sua accezione più alta e la sua responsabilità. Nel gestire questa gravosa incombenza il potere deve confrontarsi con una serie di doveri. Ab origine, la responsabilità verso il popolo romano è subordinata a una serie di valori addirittura anteriori alla nascita stessa dell'Urbe, come quello di fides, il rispetto delle regole.A questo concetto sono costretti a rapportarsi tutti i grandi di Roma. Camillo, cui viene attribuita una prima definizione del diritto naturale, che vieta ogni atto in contrasto con la natura dell'uomo; Scipione, il primo imperator, che proclama la superiorità di un singolo sulle strutture. Muove all'azione Silla, l'idealista in cerca di impossibili ritorni al passato; accende Cicerone nella sua teoresi; lo reclama per sé Cesare senza poter conservare né il potere né la vita; lo struttura mirabilmente Augusto, nel nuovo patto con gli dei (la pax Augusta) da cui nascerà la monarchia. L'intero corso della storia imperiale assiste poi a un costante dibattito, che impegna tanto gli stoici quanto la propaganda di corte, gli imperatori-soldati come il pensiero cristiano. Da quest'ultimo ambito uscirà, infine, la struttura tetragona e proiettata nei secoli a venire dell'impero cristiano.Giovanni Brizzi è professore emerito dell'Alma Mater Studiorum-Università di Bologna. Ha insegnato anche a Sassari, a Udine e alla Sorbona. È officier nell'Ordine delle Palmes Académiques dello Stato Francese, socio dell'Accademia delle Scienze dell'Istituto di Bologna, presidente della Deputazione di Storia Patria per le province di Romagna e direttore della “Rivista Storica dell'Antichità”. Tra le sue più recenti pubblicazioni: per il Mulino Ribelli contro Roma. Gli schiavi, Spartaco, l'altra Italia (2017) e Guerre ed eserciti nell'antichità (a cura di, con M. Bettalli, 2019); per Carocci Roma e i Parti. Due imperi in guerra (2022). Per Laterza è autore di Scipione e Annibale. La guerra per salvare Roma (2007), 70 d.C. La conquista di Gerusalemme (2015) e Io, Annibale. Memorie di un condottiero (2019).Diventa un supporter di questo podcast: https://www.spreaker.com/podcast/il-posto-delle-parole--1487855/support.IL POSTO DELLE PAROLEascoltare fa pensarehttps://ilpostodelleparole.it/

Happy New Year!  As we start a new year, here is a new recap, covering all of the previous year and bringing us up to date with where we are today.  Enjoy! As usual, we have our sources and more over at our website:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/newyears2026   Rough Transcription: 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 2026! Here's hoping that everyone has had a great new year.  I'm not sure about everyone else, but this past year seemed particularly long, and yet what we have covered on this podcast is only a relatively small part of the history of Yamato, so let's get into it. And in case anyone is wondering, this is covering episodes 118 to episode 140, though we will likely dip a little bit into the past as well, just to ensure we have context, where needed. We started last year in the 650's, in the second reign of Takara Hime, where we know her as Saimei Tennou.  We discussed Yamato's place in the larger world, especially in connection with the Silk Road.  In fact, we spent several episodes focused on the wider world, which Yamato was learning about through students, ambassadors, and visitors from far off lands.  Of course, that all came to a head at the Battle of Baekgang, when Yamato and their ally, Baekje, were defeated by a coalition of Tang and Silla forces, putting an end to the Kingdom of Baekje and driving Yamato to fall back and reinforce the archipelago. This was also the start of the formal reign of Naka no Oe, who would go on to be known as Tenji Tennou.  Naka no Oe would be a major proponent of substantial reforms to the Yamato government, as well as moving the capital to a new, more defensible location called Ohotsu, on the shores of Lake Biwa, in the land of Afumi.  He also introduced new concepts of time through water clocks both in Asuka and in the Afumi capital. Upon Naka no Oe's death, almost immediately, violence broke out between the Yamato court's ruling council led by Naka no Oe's son, Prince Ohotomo, and Naka no Oe's brother, Prince Ohoama.  Ohoama would emerge victorious and ascend the throne, being known as Temmu Tennou.   During his reign he took his brother's government and placed upon it his own stamp.  He reinvigorated Shinto rites while also patronizing Buddhism.  Meanwhile, relations with the continent appear to be improving. So that is the summary, let's take a look at what we discussed in more detail. First off, back to the reign of Takara Hime, aka Saimei Tennou—as opposed to her first reign, where she is known as Kougyoku Tennou.  Takara Hime came back to the throne in 654 after a nine-year hiatus, having abdicated in 645 when her son, Prince Naka no Oe, had killed Soga no Iruka in front of her at court, violently assassinating one of the most powerful men in Yamato. Naka no Oe had then gone on to take out Soga no Iruka's father, Soga no Emishi, a few days later.  Upon abdicating, Taka Hime's brother, Prince Karu, aka Koutoku Tennou, took the throne, but there are many that suggest that the real power in court was Naka no Oe and his allies—men such as the famous Nakatomi no Kamatari.  When Karu passed away, Naka no Oe still did not take the throne, officially, and instead it reverted back to his mother. Takara Hime is interesting in that she is officially recognized as a sovereign and yet she came to the throne when her husband, known as Jomei Tenno, passed away, even though neither of her parents were sovereigns themselves.  This may have something to do with the fact that much of the actual power at the time was being executed by individuals other than the reigning sovereign.  First it was the Soga family—Soga no Emishi and Soga no Iruka—but then it was Naka no Oe and his gaggle of officials.  This makes it hard to gauge Takara Hime's own agency versus that of her son's. Still, the archipelago flourished during her reign.  This was due, in no small part, to the growing connectivity between the Japanese archipelago and the continent—and from there to the rest of the world.  And that world was expanding. We see mention of the men from "Tukara" and a woman—or women—from Shravastri.  Of course it is possible, even likely, that these were a misunderstanding—it is most likely that these were individuals from the Ryukyuan archipelago and that the Chroniclers bungled the transcription, using known toponyms from the Sinitic lexicon rather than creating new ones for these places.  However, it speaks to the fact that there were toponyms to pull from because the court had at least the idea of these other places.  And remember, we had Wa students studying with the famous monk Xuanzang, who, himself, had traveled the silk road all the way out to Gandhara and around to India, the birthplace of Buddhism.  The accounts and stories of other lands and peoples were available—at least to those with access to the continent.  This helped firm up the Japanese archipelago's location at the end of a vast trading network, which we know as the Silk Road.  Indeed, we find various material goods showing up in the islands, as well as the artisans that were imported to help build Buddhist temples. And just as all of this is happening, we hit a rough patch in relations between Yamato and the Tang dynasty.  In fact, in one of our most detailed accounts of an embassy to date, thanks to the writings of one Iki no Hakatoko.  Because the fateful embassy of 659 saw the Tang take the odd step of refusing to let the embassy return to Yamato.  It turns out that the Tang, who had, for some time now, been in contact with Silla, had entered into an alliance and were about to invade Baekje.  It was presumed that if the Yamato embassy left the Tang court they might alert Baekje, their ally, that something was up.  And so it was safer to place them under house arrest until the invasion popped off. Sure enough, the invasion was launched and in less than a year King Wicha of Baekje and much of the Baekje court had been captured.  With the initial invasion successful, the Yamato embassy was released, but that is hardly the end of the story.  Baekje had sent a request to Yamato for support, but it came too late for Yamato to muster the forces necessary.  That said, some factions of the Baekje court remained, and one of their Princes was still in Yamato.  And so, as they had done in the past, Yamato sailed across the strait with the goal of restoring a royal heir to the throne. Unfortunately, this was not quite as simple as it had been, previously.  For one thing, the Tang forces were still in Baekje, and the fight became long and drawn out.  Things finally came to a head in the early months of 663, at the mouth of the Baekgang river—known in Japanese as Hakusuki-no-e.  This was a naval battle, and Yamato had more ships and was also likely more skilled on the water.  After all, much of the Tang fighting was on land or rivers, while the Wa, an island nation, had been crossing the straits and raiding the peninsula for centuries.  Even with all of the resources of the Tang empire, there was still every reason to think that the forces from the archipelago could pull off a victory.  However, it was not to be.  The Tang forces stayed near the head of the river, limiting the Wa and Baekje forces' ability to manuever, drawing them in and then counterattacking.  Eventually the Tang ended up destroying so much of the fleet that the remaining Wa ships had no choice but to turn and flee. This defeat had profound consequences for the region.  First and foremost was the fall of Baekje.  In addition, Yamato forces pulled back from the continent altogether.  Along with those Baekje refugees who had made it with them back to the archipelago they began to build up their islands' defenses.  Baekje engineers were enlisted to design and build fortresses at key points, from Tsushima all the way to the home countries.  These fortresses included massive earthworks, some of which can still be seen.  In fact, parts of the ancient fortifications on Tsushima would be reused as recently as World War II to create modern defenses and gun placements. Even the capital was moved.  While many of the government offices were possibly operating out of the Toyosaki palace in Naniwa, the royal residence was moved from Asuka up to Ohotsu, on the shores of Lake Biwa.  This put it farther inland, and behind a series of mountains and passes that would have provided natural defenses.  Fortresses were also set up along the ridgelines leading to the Afumi and Nara basins. And all of this was being done under a somewhat provisional government.  The sovereign, Takara Hime, had passed away at the most inconvenient time—just as the Yamato forces were being deployed across to the peninsula.  A funerary boat was sent back to Naniwa, and Naka no Oe took charge of the government.  That there was little fanfare perhaps suggests that there wasn't much that actually changed.  Still, it was a few years before the capital in Ohotsu was completed and Naka no Oe formally ascended the throne, becoming known to future generations as Tenji Tennou.  Naka no Oe's rule may have only formally started in the 660s, but his influence in the government goes all the way back to 645.  He assassinated the Soga family heads, and then appears to have been largely responsible for organizing the governmental reforms that led that era to be known as the Taika, or era of great change.  He served as Crown Prince under Karu and Takara Hime, and from that office he ensured his supporters were in positions of authority and instituted broad changes across the board. He continued in this position under the reign of his mother, Takara Hime, and so the transition upon her death was probably more smooth than most.  This also explains how things kept running for about three years before he took the throne. In officially stepping up as sovereign, however, Naka no Oe continued to solidify the work that he had done, focused largely on consolidating power and control over the rest of the archipelago.  There were tweaks here and there—perhaps most notably changes to the ranking system, which allowed for a more granular level of control over the stipends and privileges afforded to different individuals as part of the new government.  This work was presumably being done with the help of various ministers and of his brother, Ohoama.  Ohoama only really shows up in the Chronicle around this time, other than a brief mention of his birth along with a list of other royal progeny of the sovereign known as Jomei Tennou. We also see the death of the Naidaijin, Nakatomi no Kamatari—and supposedly the head of what would become known as the Fujiwara family.  His position as Inner Great Minister was not backfilled, but rather Naka no Oe's son, Ohotomo, was eventually named as Dajo Daijin, the head minister of the Council of State, the Dajokan, placing a young 20 year old man above the ministers of the left and right and in effective control of the government under his father—though his uncle, Prince Ohoama, maintained his position as Crown Prince. However, even that wasn't for long.  As Naka no Oe became gravely ill, he began to think of succession.  Ohoama, having been warned that something was afoot, offered to retire from his position as Crown Prince and take up religious orders down in Yoshino, theoretically clearing the line of succession and indicating his willingness to let someone else inherit.  His actual suggestion was that Naka no Oe turn the government over to his wife, who could act as a regent for Ohotomo.  What actually happened, however, was that the movers and shakers in the Council of State pledged their loyalty to the Dajo Daijin, Prince Ohotomo, who was named Crown Prince and ascended the throne when his father passed away. Here there is a bit of a wobble in the historical record.  The Chronicles never mention Prince Ohotomo formally assuming the throne and therefore the Chroniclers never provide him a regnal name.  It isn't until more modern times that we get the name "Kobun Tennou" for his short-lived reign. And it was short-lived because early on Ohoama raised an army, and after several months of fighting, took the throne for himself.  Because the year this happened was known by its sexagenary term as "Jinshin", often colloquially known as a Water Monkey year, the conflict is known as the Jinshin no Ran.  "Ran" can mean disturbance, or chaos, and so is often translated as "Jinshin Disturbance", "Jinshin Revolution", or the "Jinshin War".  The entirety of the fighting is given its own chapter in the Chronicles, known as either the first year of Temmu or sometimes as the record of the Jinshin War.  This chapter actually shows some stylistic differences with the chapter on Tenji Tennou, just before it, and tells the story of the events slightly differently, in a light generally favorable to Ohoama, who would go on to become Temmu Tennou.  As such, while the broad strokes and military actions are likely correct, there are a lot of questions around the details, especially around the motivating factors. Regardless, what is known is that Ohoama was able to quickly move from his quarters in Yoshino eastward towards Owari and Mino, where he was able to cut off the capital from support and gather troops from the eastern lands.  The Court tried to take the Nara Basin—a huge symbolic and strategic point—as well as cut off his supply lines, but these actions were thwarted by those loyal to Ohoama.  Attempts to gather troops from the west had mixed results, with several allies of Ohoama resisting the Court—most notably Prince Kurikuma, who at that time was the head of the government presence in Kyushu, where a large number of troops had been stationed to defend against a possible Tang invasion.  Eventually, Ohoama's troops defeated those of the Court.  Ohotomo was killed, and those running the government, including Soga no Akae, Nakatomi no Kane, Soga no Hatayasu, Kose no Hito, and Ki no Ushi, were either executed or exiled. Ohoama then swept into power.  He moved the court back to Asuka—the move to Ohotsu had not been a popular one in the first place—and took up residence in his mother's old palace, renovating it.  It would eventually be known as the Kiyomihara palace.  From there Ohoama continued his brother's reforms, though with his own spin. First off was a reform to the ceremonies around royal ascension.  Taking the existing feast of first fruits, the Niiname-sai, Ohoama made it into a new public and private ceremony known as the Daijo-sai, which is still practiced today upon the elevation of a new sovereign.  He reformed the government court rank system and also instituted reforms around the ancient kabane system—the ancient rank system that contained both clan and individual titles. These old kabane titles had certain social cachet, but were otherwise being made obsolete by the new court ranks, which were, at least on paper, based on merit rather than just familial connections.  Of course, the truth was that family still mattered, and in many ways the new kabane system of 8 ranks simply merged the reality of the new court with the traditions of the older system. And this was something of a trend in Ohoama's reign.  The court seems to have taken pains to incorporate more kami-based ritual back into the court, with regular offerings, especially to gods associated with food, harvest, and weather.  There is also a clear focus on the shrine at Ise.  The Chroniclers claim that Ise was established and important since the time of Mimaki Iribiko, but it is only rarely mentioned, and while its founding story might be tied to that era, the Chroniclers, who appear to have started their work this reign, appear to have done their best to bolster that connection. As for actual governance, we see another change from the government of Naka no Oe.   The former sovereign relied heavily on noble families to run the government, granting them positions of responsibility.  In the Ohoama court, however, most of those positions appear to lay dormant.  Instead we see copious mention of princes—royal and otherwise—being delegated to do the work of the throne. Indeed, Ohoama seemed to want to reinstate the majesty of the royal society, including both the royal family, but also others with royal titles as well.  Still, there were plenty of ways that the noble families continued to have an influence in various spheres of government, they just weren't handed the kind of prime ministerial powers that previous generations had achieved. Within the royal family, itself, Ohoama attempted to head off future succession disputes.  He had been through one himself, and history was littered with the violent conflicts that followed on the heels of a sovereign's death.  So Ohoama gathered his family together, to include sons and nephews of consequence, and he had them swear an oath to support each other and the Crown Prince.  After doing so, he seems to have utilized them to help run the country, as well. Of course, we've seen how such pledges played out in the past, so we'll have to wait to see how it all plays out, eventually.  I'm sure it will be fine… Whilst the archipelago was going through all of this transition—from the death of Takara Hime, and then the reign and death of her son, Naka no Oe, along with the Jinshin no Ran that followed-- we have a glimpse of what was happening on the peninsula.  Yamato had fortified against a combined Silla-Tang invasion, but it seems they needn't have done so.  First off, that alliance's attention was turned northwards, to Goguryeo.  With the death of the belligerent tyrant and perpetual-thorn-in-the-side-of-the-Tang-Court, Yeon Gaesomun, the Tang armies were finally able to capture the Goguryeo court.  However, for years afterwards they were dealing with rebellions from those who had not gone quite so quietly.  And to make matters worse it turns out that these Goguryeo recalcitrants were apparently being funded by none other than Silla, the Tang's supposed ally. From the Yamato perspective this manifested, initially, as embassies from both the Tang court and the Silla court.  While the content of the embassies' messages are not fully recorded, we can imagine that both the Tang dynasty and Silla were looking for support.  At one point there was a direct request for military support, but Yamato offered a half-hearted reply along the lines of the fact that they didn't have as many able-bodied men as they once did—not after the fighting in Korea.   And that might have even been true. Either way, the Tang embassies petered out, as the Silla influence came to dominate the embassies and trade more generally.  The Tang attempted to push back against Silla, militarily—their alliance now long since dead.  Silla took some initial losses, but ultimately was able to push the Tang off of the peninsula, uniting everything from Pyongyang south.  North of Pyongyang, though still nominally under Tang dynasty control, a rebel Goguryeo court continued to act as though they were still a going concern.  They hitched a ride on Silla ships and traveled to Yamato for regular missions, maintaining diplomatic ties. As such, Yamato itself relaxed, to a certain extent, its defensive posture—but not entirely.  They continued to maintain the fortresses and there were several edicts addressing military preparedness, so as to ensure that Yamato would be ready should anything occur. And though the missions to the Tang court themselves may have been stymied in this period, it doesn't mean that Yamato lost interest in continental learning.  They had acquired numerous texts, and appear to have been devouring them, as well as generating their own observational data.  They were recording a variety of phenomena, some more clearly consequential than others.  Some of that was practical, but, in a time where there was very little dividing the natural and the supernatural in the minds of the people, they were just as likely to record a storm or an earthquake as they were the finding of a white or albino animal that is not normally that color.  Science, myth, and legend often clashed and intermingled.  Regardless, they carried on, figuring out what they could and filling in the gaps where they had to do so. And I believe that catches us up for the year.  If I were to add anything, it would probably be a short note on Ohoama's wife, Uno no Sarara hime.  Uno no Hime is only mentioned occasionally during Ohoama's reign, and yet those few times are more than many others appear to have been mentioned.  She is explicitly said to have traveled with him when he went on campaign, and is said to have been there when he made his prayers to Ise shrine.  She was also there when the family was gathered to swear to assist each other in the smooth running of the government. There is plenty to suggest that, especially with many of the Great Minister roles left empty, that Uno Hime had a much greater role in the administration of the government than is otherwise assumed.  This may have also been the case with Naka no Oe's wife.  Both women are mentioned in ways that suggest they were considered to have some amount of political clout and savvy, and had greater agency than one might otherwise conclude.  Remember, Takara Hime had twice reigned in her own right, and we aren't so many generations removed that people wouldn't know the name of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennou.  We also know that there was a lot more going on, but the focus of the Chronicles is pretty firmly on the sovereign, and it is only with the greatest  of reluctance that the Chroniclers turn that lens on anyone else except the sovereign who was reigning at the time.  So I think it is safe to say that Uno likely played a large role in the court, and we will see even more of that in the coming year. But first, there is going to be more to say about the reign of Ohoama.  After all, we aren't entirely through with his reign.  We have only barely touched on the various Buddhist records in the Nihon Shoki, nor some of the various court events, as well as some sign of how the government enforced these new laws and punishments—the Ritsuryo system.  Finally, we'll talk about Ohoama's dream and vision for a new capital—a permanent capital city unlike anything that had yet been seen.  Ohoama would not see that through to completion, but we can talk about what it meant, the first permanent capital city in the archipelago:  Fujiwara-kyo. Until then, I hope that everyone had a wonderful holiday season.   As usual, thank you for listening and for all of your support.  Thanks also to my lovely spouse, Ellen, for their 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.

Un hombre de Irlanda del Norte que usa una silla de ruedas ♿ dice que llevar un traje robot

Sheinbaum cuestiona Comipems y defiende ingreso sin examen a bachillerato  Blue Origin lleva al espacio a primera persona en silla de ruedasMás información en nuestro Podcast

The last time Yamato was heavily involved on the continent, they were defeated militarily, and they returned to fortify their islands.  So how are things looking, now? This episode we will talk about some of what has been going on with Tang and Silla, but also touch on the Mishihase, the Hayato, the people of Tamna and Tanegashima, and more! For more information and references, check out:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-140   Rough Transcript   Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 140: Improving Diplomatic Ties Garyang Jyeongsan and Gim Hongsye looked out from the deck of their ship, tossing and turning in the sea.  The waves were high, and the winds lashed at the ship, which rocked uncomfortably beneath their feet.  Ocean spray struck them from below while rain pelted from above. Through the torrential and unstable conditions, they looked out for their sister ship.  It was their job to escort them, but in these rough seas, bobbing up and down, they were at the mercy of the elements.  One minute they could see them, and then next it was nothing but a wall of water.  Each time they caught a glimpse the other ship seemed further and further away.  They tried calling out, but it was no use—even if they could normally have raised them, the fierce winds simply carried their voices out into the watery void.  Eventually, they lost sight of them altogether. When the winds died down and the seas settled, they looked for their companions, but they saw nothing, not even hints of wreckage on the ocean.  They could only hope that their fellow pilots knew where they were going.  As long as they could still sail, they should be able to make it to land—either to the islands  to which they were headed, or back to the safety of the peninsula. And so the escort ship continued on, even without a formal envoy to escort.  They would hope for the best, or else they would explain what would happen,  and hope that the Yamato court would understand. The seas were anything but predictable, and diplomacy was certainly not for the faint of heart.   We are going through the period of the reign of Ohoama, aka Temmu Tennou.  It started in 672, with the death of his brother, Naka no Oe, remembered as the sovereign Tenji Tenno, when Temmu took the throne from his nephew, Ohotomo, aka Kobun Tenno, in what would become known as the Jinshin no Ran.  From that point, Ohoama continued the work of his brother in creating a government based on a continental model of laws and punishments—the Ritsuryo system.  He accomplished this with assistance from his wife, Uno, and other members of the royal family—his own sons, but also nephews and other princes of the time.  And so far most of our focus has been on the local goings on within the archipelago. However, there was still plenty going on in the rest of the world, and though Yamato's focus may have been on more local affairs, it was still engaged with the rest of the world—or at least with the polities of the Korean Peninsula and the Tang Dynasty.  This episode we are going to look at Yamato's foreign relations, and how they were changing, especially as things changed on the continent. Up to this point, much of what had been happening in Yamato had been heavily influenced by the mainland in one way or another.  And to begin our discussion, we really should backtrack a bit—all the way to the Battle of Baekgang in 663, which we discussed in Episode 124.  That defeat would lead to the fall of Baekje, at the hands of the Silla-Tang alliance.  The loss of their ally on the peninsula sent Yamato into a flurry of defensive activity.  They erected fortresses on Tsushima, Kyushu, and along the Seto Inland Sea.  They also moved the capital up to Ohotsu, a more easily defended point on the shores of Lake Biwa, and likewise reinforced various strategic points in the Home Provinces as well.  These fortresses were built in the style and under the direction of many of the Baekje refugees now resettled in Yamato. For years, the archipelago braced for an invasion by the Silla-Tang alliance.  After all, with all that Yamato had done to support Baekje, it only made sense, from their perspective, for Silla and Tang to next come after them.  Sure, there was still Goguryeo, but with the death of Yeon Gaesomun, Goguryeo would not last that long.  With a unified peninsula, then why wouldn't they next look to the archipelago? And yet, the attack never came.  While Yamato was building up its defenses, it seems that the alliance between Silla and Tang was not quite as strong as their victories on the battlefield may have made it seem.  This is hardly surprising—the Tang and Silla were hardly operating on the same scale.  That said, the Tang's immense size, while bringing it great resources, also meant that it had an extremely large border to defend.  They often utilized alliances with other states to achieve their ends.  In fact, it seems fairly common for the Tang to seek alliances with states just beyond their borders against those states that were directly on their borders.  In other words, they would effectively create a pincer maneuver by befriending the enemy of their enemy.  Of course.  Once they had defeated said enemy well, wouldn't you know it, their former ally was now their newest bordering state. In the case of the Silla-Tang alliance, it appears that at the start of the alliance, back in the days of Tang Taizong, the agreement, at least from Silla's perspective, was that they would help each other against Goguryeo and Baekje, and then the Tang dynasty would leave the Korean peninsula to Silla.  However, things didn't go quite that smoothly.  The fighting against Goguryeo and Baekje can be traced back to the 640s, but Tang Taizong passed away in 649, leaving the throne to his heir, Tang Gaozong.  The Tang forces eventually helped Silla to take Baekje after the battle of Baekgang River in 663, and then Goguryeo fell in 668, but the Tang forces didn't leave the peninsula.  They remained in the former territories of Baekje and in Goguryeo, despite any former agreements.  Ostensibly they were no doubt pointing to the continuing revolts and rebellions in both regions.  While neither kingdom would fully reassert itself, it didn't mean that there weren't those who were trying.  In fact, the first revolt in Goguryeo was in 669.  There was also a revolt each year until 673.  The last one had some staying power, as the Goguryeo rebels continued to hold out for about four years. It is probably worth reminding ourselves that the Tang dynasty, during this time, had reached out on several occasions to Yamato, sending diplomatic missions, as had Silla.  While the Yamato court may have been preparing for a Tang invasion, the Tang perspective seems different.  They were preoccupied with the various revolts going on, and they had other problems.  On their western border, they were having to contend with the kingdom of Tibet, for example.  The Tibetan kingdom had a powerful influence on the southern route around the Taklamakan desert, which abuts the Tibetan plateau.   The Tang court would have had to divert resources to defend their holdings in the western regions, and it is unlikely that they had any immediate designs on the archipelago, which I suspect was considered something of a backwater to them, at the time.  In fact, Yamato would have been much more useful to the Tang as an ally to help maintain some pressure against Silla, with whom their relationship, no longer directed at a common enemy, was becoming somewhat tense. In fact, just before Ohoama came to the throne, several events had occurred that would affect the Silla-Tang alliance. The first event is more indirect—in 670, the Tibetan kingdom attacked the Tang empire.  The fighting was intense, and required serious resources from both sides.  Eventually the Tibetan forces were victorious, but not without a heavy toll on the Tibetan kingdom, which some attribute to the latter's eventual demise.  Their pyrrhic victory, however, was a defeat for the Tang, who also lost troops and resources in the fighting.  Then, in 671, the Tang empire would suffer another loss as Silla would drive the Tang forces out of the territory of the former kingdom of Baekje. With the Baekje territory under their control, it appears that Silla was also working to encourage some of rebellions in Goguryeo.  This more than irked the Tang court, currently under the formal control of Tang Gaozong and the informal—but quite considerable—control of his wife, Wu Zetian, who some claim was the one actually calling most of the shots in the court at this point in time.  Silla encouragement of restoration efforts in Goguryeo reached the Tang court in 674, in and in 675 we see that the Tang forces were sent to take back their foothold in the former Baekje territory.  Tang defeated Silla at Gyeonggi, and Silla's king, Munmu, sent a tribute mission to the Tang court, apologizing for their past behavior. However, the Tang control could not be maintained, as they had to once again withdraw most of their troops from the peninsula to send them against the Tibetan kingdom once more.  As soon as they did so, Silla once again renewed their attacks on Tang forces on the peninsula.  And so, a year later, in 676, the Tang forces were back.  They crossed the Yellow Sea to try and take back the Tang territories on the lower peninsula, but they were unsuccessful.  Tang forces were defeated by Silla at Maeso Fortress in modern day Yeoncheon.  After a bit more fighting, Silla ended up in control of all territory south of the Taedong River, which runs through Pyongyang, one of the ancient capitals of Goguryeo and the capital of modern North Korea.  This meant that the Tang dynasty still held much of the territory of Goguryeo under their control. With everything that was going on, perhaps that explains some of the apparently defensive measures that Yamato continued to take.  For example, the second lunar month of 675, we know that Ohoama proceeded to Takayasu castle, likely as a kind of formal inspection.  Then, in the 10th lunar month of 675 Ohoama commanded that everyone from the Princes down to the lowest rank were to provide the government with weapons.  A year later, in the 9th month of 676, the Princes and Ministers sent agents to the capital and the Home Provinces and gave out weapons to each man.  Similar edicts would be issued throughout the reign.  So in 679 the court announced that in two years time, which is to say the year 681, there would be a review of the weapons and horses belonging to the Princes of the Blood, Ministers, and any public functionaries.  And in that same year, barrier were erected for the first time on Mt. Tatsta and Mt. Afusaka, along with an outer line of fortifications at Naniwa. While some of that no doubt also helped to control internal movements, it also would have been useful to prepare for the possibility of future invasions.  And the work continued.  In 683  we see a royal command to all of the various provinces to engage in military training.  And in 684 it was decreed at that there would be an inspection in the 9th month of the following year—685—and they laid out the ceremonial rules, such as who would stand where, what the official clothing was to look like, etc.  Furthermore, there was also an edict that all civil and military officials should practice the use of arms and riding horses.  They were expected to supply their own horses, weapons, and anything they would wear into battle. If they owned horses, they would be considered cavalry soldiers, while those who did not have their own horse would be trained as infantry.  Either way, they would each receive training, and the court was determined to remove any obstacles and excuses that might arise.   Anyone who didn't comply would be punished.  Non compliance could mean refusing to train, but it could also just mean that they did not provide the proper horses or equipment, or they let their equipment fall into a state of disrepair.  Punishments could range from fines to outright flogging, should they be found guilty.  On the other hand, those who practiced well would have any punishments against them for other crimes reduced by two degrees, even if it was for a capital crime.  This only applied to previous crimes, however—if it seemed like you were trying to take advantage of this as a loophole to be able to get away with doing your own thing than the pardon itself would be considered null and void. A year later, the aforementioned inspection was carried out by Princes Miyatokoro, Hirose, Naniwa, Takeda, and Mino.  Two months later, the court issued another edict demanding that military equipment—specifically objects such as large or small horns, drums, flutes, flags, large bows, or catapults—should be stored at the government district house and not kept in private arsenals.  The "large bow" in this case may be something like a ballista, though Aston translates it to crossbow—unfortunately, it isn't exactly clear, and we don't necessarily have a plethora of extant examples to point to regarding what they meant.  Still, these seem to be focused on things that would be used by armies—especially the banners, large bows, and catapults.  The musical instruments may seem odd, though music was often an important part of Tang dynasty military maneuvers.  It was used to coordinate troops, raise morale, provide a marching rhythm, and more.  Granted, much of this feels like something more continental, and it is unclear if music was regularly used in the archipelago.  This could be more of Yamato trying to emulate the Tang dynasty rather than something that was commonplace on the archipelago.  That might also explain the reference to the Ohoyumi and the catapults, or rock throwers. All of this language having to do with military preparations could just be more of the same as far as the Sinicization of the Yamato government is concerned; attempts to further emulate what they understood of the civilized governments on the mainland—or at least their conception of those governments based on the various written works that they had imported.  Still, I think it is relevant that there was a lot of uncertainty regarding the position of various polities and the potential for conflict.  Each year could bring new changes to the political dynamic that could see military intervention make its way across the straits.  And of course, there was always the possibility that Yamato itself might decide to raise a force of its own. Throughout all of this, there was continued contact with the peninsula and other lands.  Of course, Silla and Goguryeo were both represented when Ohoama came to the throne—though only the Silla ambassador made it to the ceremony, apparently.  In the 7th lunar month of 675, Ohotomo no Muraji no Kunimaro was sent to Silla as the Chief envoy, along with Miyake no Kishi no Irishi.  They likely got a chance to witness first-hand the tensions between Silla and the Tang court.  The mission would return in the second lunar month of the following year, 676.  Eight months later, Mononobe no Muarji no Maro and Yamashiro no Atahe no Momotari were both sent.  That embassy also returned in the 2nd lunar month of the following year. Meanwhile, it wasn't just Yamato traveling to Silla—there were also envoys coming the other way.  For example, in the 2nd lunar month of 675 we are told that Silla sent Prince Chyungweon as an ambassador.  His retinue was apparently detained on Tsukushi while the actual envoy team went on to the Yamato capital.  It took them about two months to get there, and then they stayed until the 8th lunar month, so about four months in total. At the same time, in the third month, Goguryeo and Silla both sent "tribute" to Yamato.  And in the 8th month, Prince Kumaki, from Tamna, arrived at Tsukushi as well.  Tamna, as you may recall, refers to nation on the island known today as Jeju.  The late Alexander Vovin suggested that the name originated from a proto-Japonic cognate with "Tanimura", and many of the names seem to also bear out a possible Japonic influence on the island nation. Although they only somewhat recently show up in the Chronicles from our perspective, archaeological evidence suggests that they had trade with Yayoi Japan and Baekje since at least the first century.  With the fall of Baekje, and the expansion of Yamato authority to more of the archipelago, we've seen a notable uptick in the communication between Tamna and Yamato noted in the record.  A month after the arrival of Prince Kumaki in Tsukushi, aka Kyushu, it is noted that a Prince Koyo of Tamna arrived at Naniwa.  The Tamna guests would stick around for almost a year, during which time they were presented with a ship and eventually returned in the 7th lunar month of the following year, 676.   Tamna envoys, who had also shown up in 673, continued to be an annual presence at the Yamato court through the year 679, after which there is an apparent break in contact, picking back up in 684 and 685. 676 also saw a continuation of Silla representatives coming to the Yamato court, arriving in the 11th lunar month.  That means they probably passed by the Yamato envoys heading the other way.  Silla, under King Mumnu, now had complete control of the Korean peninsula south of the Taedong river.  In the same month we also see another mission from Goguryeo, but the Chronicle also points out that the Goguryeo envoys had a Silla escort, indicating the alliance between Silla and those attempting to restore Goguryeo—or at least the area of Goguryeo under Tang control.  The Tang, for their part, had pulled back their commandary to Liaodong, just west of the modern border between China and North Korea, today.  Goguryeo would not go quietly, and the people of that ancient kingdom—one of the oldest on the peninsula—would continue to rise up and assert their independence for years to come. The chronicles also record envoys from the somewhat mysterious northern Mishihase, or Sushen, thought to be people of the Okhotsk Sea culture from the Sakhalin islands.  There were 11 of them, and they came with the Silla envoys, possibly indicating their influence on the continent and through the Amur river region.  Previously, most of the contact had been through the regions of Koshi and the Emishi in modern Tohoku and Hokkaido.  This seems to be their only major envoy to the Yamato court recorded in this reign. Speaking of outside groups, in the 2nd lunar month of 677 we are told that there was an entertainment given to men of Tanegashima under the famous Tsuki tree west of Asukadera.  Many people may know Tanegashima from the role it played in the Sengoku Period, when Europeans made contact and Tanegashima became a major hub of Sengoku era firearm manufacturing.  At this point, however, it seems that it was still a largely independent island in the archipelago off the southern coast of Kyushu.  Even southern Kyushu appears to have retained some significant cultural differences at this time, with the "Hayato" people being referenced in regards to southern Kyushu—we'll talk about them in a bit as they showed up at the capital in 682.  Tanegashima is actually closer to Yakushima, another island considered to be separate, culturally, from Yamato, and could be considered the start of the chain of islands leading south to Amami Ohoshima and the other Ryukyuan islands.  That said, Tanegashima and Yakushima are much closer to the main islands of the archipelago and show considerable influence, including Yayoi and Kofun cultural artifacts, connecting them more closely to those cultures, even if Yamato initially saw them as distinct in some way. A formal Yamato envoy would head down to Tanegashima two years later, in the 11th lunar month of 679.  It was headed up by Yamato no Umakahibe no Miyatsuko no Tsura and Kami no Sukuri no Koukan.  The next reference to the mission comes in 681, when the envoys returned and presented a map of the island.  They claimed that it was in the middle of the ocean, and that rice was always abundant. With a single sowing of rice it was said that they could get two harvests.  Other products specifically mentioned were cape jasmine and bulrushes, though they then note that there were also many other products that they didn't bother to list.  This must have been considered quite the success, as the Yamato envoys were each awarded a grade of rank for their efforts.   They also appear to have returned with some of the locals, as they were entertained again in Asuka—this time on the riverbank west of Asukadera, where various kinds of music were performed for them. Tanegashima and Yakushima would be brought formally under Yamato hegemony in 702 with the creation of Tane province, but for now it was still considered separate.  This was probably just the first part of the efforts to bring them into Yamato, proper. Getting back to the Silla envoys who had arrived in 676, they appear to have remained for several months.  In the third lunar month of 677 we are told that they, along with guests of lower rank—thirteen persons all told—were invited to the capital.  Meanwhile, the escort envoys and others who had not been invited to the capital were entertained in Tsukushi and returned from there. While this was going on, weather out in the straits drove a Silla boat to the island of Chikashima.  Aboard was a Silla man accompanined by three attendants and three Buddhist priests.  We aren't told where they were going, but they were given shelter and when the Silla envoy, Kim Chyeonpyeong, returned home he left with those who had been driven ashore, as well. The following year, 678, was not a great one for the Silla envoys.  Garyang Jyeongsan and Gim Hongsye arrived at Tsukushi, but they were just the escorts.  The actual envoys had been separated by a storm at sea and never arrived.  In their place, the escort envoys were sent to the capital, probably to at least carry through with the rituals of diplomacy.  This was in the first month of the following year, 679, and given when envoys had previously arrived, it suggests to me that they waited a few months, probably to see if the envoys' ship eventually appeared and to give the court time to figure out what to do.  A month later, the Goguryeo envoys arrived, still being accompanied by Silla escorts, also arrived. Fortunately the Yamato envoys to Silla and elsewhere fared better.  That year, 679, the envoys returned successfully from Silla, Goguryeo, and Tamna.  Overall, though, I think it demonstrates that this wasn't just a pleasure cruise.  There was a very real possibility that one could get lost at sea.  At the same time, one needed people of sufficient status to be able to carry diplomatic messages and appropriately represent the court in foreign lands.  We often seen envoys later taking on greater positions of responsibility in the court, and so you didn't have to go far to find those willing to take the risk for later rewards. That same year, another tribute mission from Silla did manage to make the crossing successfully.  And in this mission we are given more details, for they brought gold, silver, iron, sacrificial cauldrons with three feet, brocade, cloth, hides, horses, dogs, mules, and camels.  And those were just the official gifts to the court.  Silla also sent distinct presents for the sovereign, the queen, and the crown prince, namely gold, silver, swords, flags, and things of that nature. This appears to demonstrate increasingly close ties between Silla and Yamato. All of that arrived in the 10th lunar month of 679, and they stayed through the 6th lunar month of 680—about 7 to 9 months all told, depending on if there were any intercalary months that year.  In addition to entertaining the Silla envoys in Tsukushi—it is not mentioned if they made it to the capital—we are also told that in the 2nd lunar month, halfway through the envoys' visit, eight labourers from Silla were sent back to their own country with gifts appropriate to their station. Here I have to pause and wonder what exactly is meant by this.  "Labourer" seems somewhat innocuous.  I suspect that their presence in Yamato may have been less than voluntary, and I wonder if these were captured prisoners of war who could have been in Yamato now for over a decade.  If so, this could have been a gesture indicating that the two sides were putting all of that nastiness with Baekje behind them, and Yamato was accepting Silla's new role on the peninsula.  Or maybe I'm reading too much into it, but it does seem to imply that Silla and Yamato were growing closer, something that Yamato would need if it wanted to have easy access, again, to the wider world. Speaking of returning people, that seems to have been something of a common thread for this year, 680, as another mission from Goguryeo saw 19 Goguryeo men also returned to their country.  These were condolence envoys who had come to mourn the death of Takara Hime—aka Saimei Tennou.  They must have arrived in the midst of all that was happening peninsula, and as such they were detained.  Their detention is somewhat interesting, when you think about it, since technically Baekje and Goguryeo—and thus Yamato—would have been on the same side against the Silla-Tang alliance.  But perhaps it was just considered too dangerous to send them home, initially, and then the Tang had taken control of their home.  It is unclear to me how much they were being held by Yamato and how much they were just men without a country for a time.  This may reflect how things on the mainland were stabilizing again, at least from Yamato's perspective.  However, as we'll discuss a bit later, it may have also been another attempt at restoring the Goguryeo kingdom by bringing back refugees, especially if they had connections with the old court.  The Goguryeo envoys—both the recent mission and those who had been detained—would remain until the 5th lunar month of 681, when they finally took their leave.  That year, there were numerous mission both from and to Silla and Goguryeo, and in the latter part of the year, Gim Chyungpyeong came once again, once more bearing gives of gold, silver, copper, iron, brocade, thin silk, deerskins, and fine cloth.  They also brought gold, silver, flags of a rosy-colored brocade and skins for the sovereign, his queen, and the crown prince. That said, the 681 envoys also brought grave news:  King Munmu of Silla was dead.  Munmu had reigned since 661, so he had overseen the conquest of Silla and Goguryeo.  His regnal name in Japanese might be read as Monmu, or even "Bunbu", referencing the blending of literary and cultural achievements seen as the pinnacle of noble attainment.  He is known as Munmu the Great for unifying the peninsula under a single ruler—though much of the Goguryeo territory was still out of reach.  Indeed he saw warfare and the betterment of his people, and it is no doubt significant that his death is recorded in the official records of the archipelago.   He was succeeded by his son, who would reign as King Sinmun, though the succession wasn't exactly smooth. We are told that Munmu, knowing his time was short, requested that his son, the Crown Prince, be named king before they attended to Munmu's own funerary arrangements, claiming that the throne should not sit vacant.  This may have been prescient, as the same year Munmu died and Sinmun ascended to the throne there was a revolt, led by none other than Sinmun's own father-in-law, Kim Heumdol.  Heumdol may, himselve, have been more of a figurehead for other political factions in the court and military.  Nonetheless, the attempted coup of 681 was quickly put down—the envoys in Yamato would likely only learn about everything after the dust had settled upon their return. The following year, 682, we see another interesting note about kings, this time in regards to the Goguryeo envoys, whom we are told were sent by the King of Goguryeo.  Ever since moving the commandery to Liaodong, the Tang empire had claimed dominion over the lands of Goguryeo north of the Taedong river.  Originally they had administered it militarily, but in 677 they crowned a local, Bojang as the "King of Joseon", using the old name for the region, and put him in charge of the Liaodong commandery.  However, he was removed in 681, and sent into exile in Sichuan, because rather than suppressing revolt, he had actually encouraged restoration attempts, inviting back Goguryeo refugees, like those who had been detained in Yamato.  Although Bojang himself was sent into exile, his descendants continued to claim sovereignty, so it may have been one of them that was making the claim to the "King of Goguryeo", possibly with Silla's blessing. Later that year, 682, we see Hayato from Ohosumi and Ata—possibly meaning Satsuma—the southernmost point of Kyushu coming to the court in 682.  They brought tribute and representatives of Ohosumi and Ata wrestled, with the Ohosumi wrestler emerging victorious.  They were entertained west of Asukadera, and various kinds of music was performed and gifts were given. They were apparently quite the sight, as Buddhist priests and laiety all came out to watch. Little is known for certain about the Hayato.  We have shields that are attributed to them, but their association may have more to do with the fact that they were employed as ceremonial guards for a time at the palace.  We do know that Southern Kyushu had various groups that were seen as culturally distinct from Yamato, although there is a lot of overlap in material culture.  We also see early reports of the Kumaso, possibly two different groups, the Kuma and So, in earlier records, and the relationship between the Kumaso and the Hayato is not clearly defined. What we do know is that southern Kyushu, for all that it shared with Yamato certain aspects of culture through the kofun period, for example, they also had their own traditions. For example, there is a particular burial tradition of underground kofun that is distinct to southern Kyushu.  A great example of this can be found at the Saitobaru Kofun cluster in Miyazaki, which contains these unique southern Kyushu style burials along with more Yamato style keyhole shaped and circular type kofun.  Miyazaki sits just north of the Ohosumi peninsula, in what was formerly the land of Hyuga, aka  Himuka.  This is also where a lot of the founding stories of the Heavenly grandchild were placed, and even today there is a shrine there to the Heavenly Rock Cave.  In other words there are a lot of connections with Southern Kyushu, and given that the Chronicles were being written in the later 7th and early 8th centuries, it is an area of intense interest when trying to understand the origins of Yamato and Japanese history. Unfortunately, nothing clearly tells us exactly how the Hayato were separate, but in the coming century they would both come under Yamato hegemony and rebel against it, time and again.  This isn't the first time they are mentioned, but it may be the first time that we see them as an actual people, in a factual entry as earlier references in the Chronicles are suspect. Continuing on with our look at diplomacy during this period, the year 683 we see a continuation of the same patterns, with nothing too out of the ordinary.  Same with most of 684 until the 12th lunar month.  It is then that we see a Silla ship arrive with Hashi no Sukune no Wohi and Shirawi no Fubito no Hozen.  They had both, previously been to the Tang empire to study, though we don't have a record of them leaving for that or any other purpose.  They are accompanied by Witsukahi no Muraji no Kobito and Tsukushi no Miyake no Muraji no Tokuko, both of whom had apparently been captured and taken by the Tang dynasty during the Baekje campaign.  Apparently they had all traveled back from the Tang empire together to Silla, who then provided them passage to Yamato. The timing of this suggests it may have had something to do with the changes going on in the Tang empire—changes that I desperately want to get into, but given that we are already a good ways into this current episode, I think I will leave it for later.  But I will note this:  Emperor Gaozong had passed away and his wife, Empress Wu Zetian, was now ruling as regent for her sons.  Wu Zetian is probably the most famous empress in all of Chinese history, and while she held de facto power as a co-regent during her husband's reign and as a regent during her sons' reigns, she would actually ascend the throne herself in 690.  Her reign as a woman during a time of heightened patriarchal tradition is particularly of note, and it leads us to wonder about the vilification that she received by the men who followed her rule.  And I really want to get into all of that but, thematically, I think it better to wait.  Those of you reading ahead in the syllabus—which is to say the Chronicles—probably know why.  So let us just leave it there and say that the Tang was going through a few things, and that may explain why students were returning back in the company of former war captives. A few months later, the Silla escort, Gim Mulyu, was sent home along with 7 people from Silla who had been washed ashore—presumably during a storm or other such event, again illustrating the dangers of taking to the ocean at this time.  Perhaps related to that theme is the entry only a month later, which merely stated that Gim Jusan of Silla returned home.  Gim Jusan was an envoy sent to Yamato in the 11th lunar month of 683.  He was entertained in Tsukushi, and we are told that he returned to his own country on the 3rd month of 684.  Now we are seeing an entry in the 4th month of 685 that this same person apparently returned home. It is possible that something got mixed up, and that the Chroniclers were dealing with a typo in the records that made it seem like this took place a year later than it did.  This was certainly an issue at this time, given all the math one had to do just to figure out what day it was.  There is also the possibility that he returned on another embassy, but just wasn't mentioned for some reason.  The last possible explanation is that he somehow got lost and it took him a year to find his way back.  Not entirely impossible back then, though I am a bit skeptical.  Among other things, why would that note have found its way into the Chronicles in Yamato?  While they were certainly using some continental sources, this seems like something they were talking about as far as him leaving the archipelago, rather than discussion of something happening elsewhere. Speaking of happening elsewhere, I'm wondering about another event that happened around this time as well.  In fact, it was while Gim Mulyu was still in the archipelago.  For some reason the Yamato court granted rank to 147 individuals from Tang, Baekje, and Goguryeo.  Interestingly, they don't mention Silla.  Furthermore, there is no real mention of any Tang envoys during this reign.  In fact, there is hardly mention of the Tang dynasty at all.  There is a mention of some 30 Tang men—captives, presumably—being sent to the Yamato court from Tsukushi.  Those men were settled in Toutoumi, so there were men of Tang in the archipelago.  But beyond that, there are only three other mentions of the Tang dynasty.  One was when the students and war captives came back.  Another was this note about giving rank to 147 individuals.  Finally there is a similar record in 686, at the very end of the reign, where it is 34 persons who were given rank.  This time it was to carpenters, diviners, physicians, students from Tang—possibly those who had just come back a year or so earlier.  So if there weren't envoys from Tang, Goguryeo, and Baekje, who were these people and why were they being granted Yamato court rank?  My assumption is that it was foreigners living in the archipelago, and being incorporated into the Yamato court system.  Still, it is interesting that after the overtures by the Tang in the previous reign we have heard virtually nothing since then.  Again, that is likely largely due to the conflicts between Tang and Silla, though now, things seem to be changing.  The conflicts have settled down, and new rulers are in place, so we'll see how things go. Speaking of which, let's finish up with the diplomatic exchanges in this reign.  I'm only hitting some of the highlights here.  First is the return from Silla, in the 5th month of 685, of Takamuku no Asomi no Maro and Tsuno no Asomi no Ushikahi.  They had traveled to Silla in 684, and they did not come back emptyhanded.  The new King of Silla presented them with gifts, including 2 horses, 3 dogs, 2 parrots, and 2 magpies.  They also brought back the novice monks Kanjou and Ryoukan.  Not bad, overall. Then, 6 months later, another tribute mission came, but this one has an interesting—if somewhat questionable—note attached to it.  It is said that the envoys Gim Jisyang and Gim Geonhun were sent to request "governance" and to bring tribute.  This certainly go the court's attention.  They didn't bring the envoys all the way to the capital, but they did send to them, in Tsukushi, Prince Kawachi, Ohotomo no Sukune no Yasumaro, Fujiwara no Asomi no Ohoshima, and Hodzumi no Asomi no Mushimaro. About three months later they send the musical performers from Kawaradera to provide entertainment during a banquet for the Silla envoy, and in payment some 5,000 bundles of rice rom the private lands attached to the queen's palace were granted to the temple in gratitude. The Silla tribute was then brought to the capital from Tsukushi.  This time it was more than 100 items, including one fine horse, one mule, two dogs, a gold container inlaid with some kind of design, gold, silver, faint brocade, silk gauze, tiger and leopard skins, and a variety of medicines.  In addition, as was now common, the envoys, Gim Jisyang and Gim Geonhun, apparently had personal gifts to give in the form of gold, silver, faint brocade, silk gauze, gold containers, screens, saddle hides, silk cloth, and more medicine.  There were also gifts specifically for the sovereign, the queen, the Crown Prince, and for the various princes of the blood. The court returned this favor with gifts to the envoys, presented at a banquet just for them, before sending them on their way. A couple of notes.  First off, it is interesting that they are entertained at Tsukushi rather than being invited to the capital, and I wonder if this was because the sovereign, Ohoama, wasn't doing so well.  This was all happening in 685 and 686, and the sovereign would pass away shortly afterwards.  So it is possible that Ohoama just was not up to entertaining visitors at this time.  Of course, the Chronicles often don't tell us exactly why a given decision was made, only that it was.  And sometimes not even that. The other thing that seems curious is the mention of a request for governance.  That almost sounds like Silla was asking to come under Yamato hegemony, which I seriously doubt.  It may be that they were asking something along the lines of an alliance, but it is also possible that the scribes recording things for Yamato heard what they wanted to hear and so wrote it down in the light most favorable to Yamato laying claim to the peninsula. Or perhaps I'm misunderstanding exactly what they were asking for.  Maybe "governance" here means something else—perhaps just some kind of better relationship. And with that, we'll leave it for now.  There is more developing in the next reign, but I think we want to wait until we get there.  There are still a lot more things to cover in this reign before we move on—we haven't even touched on the establishment of the new capital, on the various court events, not to mention some of the laws and punishments that this period is named for.  And there is the minor issue of a rebellion.  All of that will be dealt with.  And then, after that, we get to the final reign of the Chronicles: the reign of Jitou Tennou.  From there?  Who knows. It is the winter holiday season, so I hope everyone is enjoying themselves.  Next episode will be the New Year's recap, and then we should finish with this reign probably in January or early February. 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.

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This episode we look at many of the natural events and talk about those observing and writing things down, and why they may have wanted to do so. For more, check out our podcast blogpage:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-139   Rough Transcript: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 139: Observing the "Natural" World. Members of the Onmyou-ryou, dressed in the official robes of their office, sat around in their observation tower, measuring the location of the stars.  They kept their light to a minimum, just enough so that they could write down their observations, but not so much that it would destroy their vision.  As they looked up, suddenly they saw a strange movement: a streak through the sky.  They waited, and observed, and then there was another, and another after that.  It was as if the stars themselves were falling from the heavens.  They watched as it seemed that the constellations themselves were melting and falling apart.  Quickly they scribbled down notes.  Tomorrow, with the light of day, they would consult various sources to see just what it could mean.  For now, their role was simply to observe and record.   Welcome back, everyone.  It is the height of holiday season in the US as I record this, and in our narrative we are in the middle of the reign of Ohoama, aka Temmu Tennou, who came to power in 672 and who has been shoring up the Ritsuryo state instigated by his late brother, Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou.  We have talked in recent episodes about how Ohoama put a lot of the state under the control of members of the royal family, or at least those with claims to royal blood, and how he had also begun work on the Chronicles—the very works that we have been using to try and understand the history of this and earlier periods.   It seems clear that Ohoama and his cohorts were doing their best to solidify their control and, in the process, create what they felt was a modern state, leveraging the continental model, but not without their own local flavor.  After all, they were also investing in the kami based rituals of state and specifically in Ise shrine, which they claimed as an ancestral shrine for their lineage. This episode, let's dig into another thing that was getting reported around this time.  And that is… science!  Or at least observations of the world and indications of how people were interacting with it. Before going into the subject, I want to acknowledge that "science", or "Kagaku" in modern Japanese, may not look like what we think of as "science" today.  The word "Kagaku" itself appears to come about in the late Edo period, and became associated with the western idea of "Science" in the Meiji period.  Today we think of it as observations, yes, but also testing via the scientific method. I think it might be more appropriate to categorize a lot of earlier science under a term like "learning" or "study", and it seems to have encompassed a wide range of topics of study, some of which we would include as "science" and some which we might refer to more as "arts".  There is also a very fine line with religion and philosophy as well. From a modern perspective, I think one could fairly argue that "science"—particularly the so-called "hard" sciences—refers to something that can be empirically tested via the scientific method.  So you can see something, form a hypothesis, create a test, and then that test should produce the same results no matter who conducts it, assuming you account for the variables. And please don't @ me about this… I know I am simplifying things.  This isn't a podcast about science unless we are talking about the social sciences of history and archaeology. In contrast to our modern concept of science, much of what we see in the Asuka era is built around using our reasoning to arrive at the truth of something.  In cases where we are dealing with clearly physical phenomena that have observable causes and effects, this can lead to remarkably reliable results.  One example of this is calendrical science—it isn't that hard to observe the passing of days and seasons.  Even the rotation of the earth and the movements of stars and even something with as large a period as comets could be observed and tracked, especially if you had centuries of data to comb through.  In fact, they often would predict things that it turns out they couldn't, themselves, see.  They could predict that an eclipse would occur, for example, even when that eclipse was only visible somewhere else.  And they didn't have to calculate gravitational pull, mass, or distances between different heavenly bodies for that to occur. Similarly, in the agricultural sphere: you had so many people who observed the seasons and would figure out new ways of doing things.  It doesn't take an understanding of chlorophyl to know that plants generally do better when exposed to sunlight. I believe the leap happens when you get to things that go beyond purely observable means.  Sickness, for example—how do you explain viruses or germs without equipment like microscopes to see what our eyes alone cannot?  And if such "invisible" things could cause so much damage, then why could there not be other "invisible" elements, such as kami and boddhisatvas?  And as humans we are driven to make connections.  It is one of the things that has driven our technological innovation and rise, but it is also something that can easily go awry.  Like when you are sitting in a dark house, alone, and you hear a noise.  Rationally, you might know that houses settle and creak, but that doesn't necessarily stop your brain from connecting it with thoughts that someone must be in the house making that noise. Or even how we make judgments based on nothing more than how someone talks or what they look like, because our brains have made connections with those things, for good or ill. A large part of the rationalization that was accomplished in Asian thought had to do with concepts of Yin and Yang, the negative and the positive, the dark and the light.  This was thought of as a kind of energy—qi or ki—that was embedded in things.  We discussed this somewhat back in episode 127, because yin yang theory, along with the five element theory, known as Wuxing or Gogyou in Japanese, became embedded in the idea of the calendar.  Why was summer hot, except that it was connected with an excess of fire energy?  And the cold, dark days of winter would be associated with an excess of water, naturally. I should note that while this is one of the more comprehensive philosophical systems in use, it was not the only means by which various phenomena and effects were rationalized.  After all, it had to be imposed on a framework of how the world otherwise worked, and descriptions of the world came from a variety of places.  There was, for example, the Classic of Mountains and Seas, or Sanhaijing, which detailed the world as envisioned in the period before the Qin dynasty, although there were occasional updates.  The Sanhaijing  described regular plants and animals in the same breath as gods and monsters.  There were also various buddhist sutras, which brought their own cosmological view of the universe that had to be squared with other visions, including those passed down locally describing the archipelago as the "Reed Plain" and giving particular importance to eight of the islands—though which eight depends on which variant of the creation myth you are referencing. To categorize the study of the natural—and what we would consider the supernatural—world around them, the Ritsuryou set up specific bureaus.  One of these was the Onmyou-ryou, the Bureau of Yin-yang, also known as the Onyo no Tsukasa.  This Bureau oversaw divination, astronomy, time, and calendars.  At its head was the Onmyou-no-kami.  Below them were the various scholars studying the core subjects, as well as technical practitioners to carry out the rites and divination. On the continent, priority was generally given to astronomical and calendrical studies, and many of the more magical practices or rituals would fade away, likely because there were local Taoist institutions who could take up much of that work.  In Japan, however, it seems that the calendrical studies tended to ossify, instead, while onmyoji came to fill a role not just for the state but also among the population for divination and other such practices.  Even into the Edo period one could find private onmyoji, and the Bureau itself lasted until the very beginning of the Meiji period. Another important institution of the Ritsuryo government for learning was the Daigakuryou, the Bureau of Great Learning.  Students of Japanese may recognize the term "Daigaku" referring, today, to universities. The original concept for the Daigaku-ryou, or Daigaku no Tsukasa, was focused on the study of those things that were considered perhaps a bit more practical and necessary to anyone who might want a political career.  Since this was founded on concepts of Confucian government, it is little wonder that it was originally designed to focus on Confucian studies, among other things.  This fits into the idea of a supposed meritocracy, where one's education was part of the examination.  You may recall from Episode 115 we talked about the National University in Chang'an, which is likely something that the Daigaku Ryou could only ever dream of becoming. Early arts taught at the Daigaku Ryou included the Confucian classics, mathematics, writing, and Chinese pronunciation.  These were all things that you would need to know to become a part of the bureaucracy The idea of a school may have been born along with the early institution of the government, with mention as early as 671, in the last year of Naka no Oe's reign, but we don't have it clearly established in the code until later.  Full operations may have been somewhat delayed due to the tumultuous events of Ohoama's accession to power in 672, but we do see it explicitly mentioned in the year 675.  On the first day of the year we are told that Students from the Daigaku Ryou, along with students from the Onmyou-Ryou and from the Gaiyaku Ryou, the Bureau of External Medicine; along with the Woman of S'ravasti, the Woman of Tara, Prince Syeonkwang of Baekje, and Silla labourers offered presents of drugs and various rarities. We talked about the first two, the Daigaku-ryou and the Onmyou-ryou, but the Gaiyaku Ryou doesn't seem to have a lot of information out there beyond this mention.  Later there would a "Ten'yaku Ryou", or Bureau of Medicine, established in the code.  Since we don't have any extant codes from this period beyond what was written down in the Nihon Shoki, we don't know for certain what the Gaiyaku-ryou was , and it is possible that the Gaiyaku-Ryou was a precursor to the Ten'yaku Ryou.  "GAI" means "outside" or "external", leading me to wonder if this referred to external medicine in contrast to internal medicine, or if it meant medicine or drugs from outside teh archipeloago. I would point out that these students are found with the Woman of S'ravasti, or Shae; the Woman of Tara; a Baekje prince and Silla labourers.  In other words, they were all people from outside of the archipelago.  This is not entirely surprising as it was from outside that much of the learning was coming into the country. "Yaku" or "Kusuri", which can be translated as either "Drugs" or "medicine", could refer to a number of things.  How effective they were is somewhat questionable. Almost certainly some of them had confirmed medicinal efficacy, but others may have been thought to have been effective due to things like their connection to the five elements, or wuxing, theory. For example, something red might be assumed to have a warming effect because of the presumed presence of the fire element.  And the power of the placebo effect no doubt made them seem at least partially effective.  Consider, for example, how many people will swear by certain remedies for the common cold when all it really does is distract you, or perhaps make you a bit more comfortable, until the symptoms pass on their own. A more certain science was probably that of Astronomy, which we've mentioned a few times.  The passage of the stars through the sky was something that could be easily observed.  There is a theory that some of the first lines in the Yijing, or book of changes, may actually be a description of the changing of seasons as different aspects of a given constellation rise over the horizon, and the placement of certain stars would help in the adjustment of the lunar calendar, since the moon's orbit does not match up exactly with the solar year, and year the solar year was quite important to things like agriculture and even sailing to the mainland. This all makes 675 a seemingly banner year for science, as four days after the presentation of medicine to the throne, the government erected a platform by which to observe the stars.  This wouldn't need to be much—it could have been an earthen mound, or just a tower, from which one could get above the ground, presumably see over any buildings, to the horizon.  Granted, Asuka might not be the best place for such observations, with the nearby mountains meaning that the true horizon is often obstructed.  Nonetheless, it may have been enough to make calculations. Astronomy platforms, or Tenmondai, would continue to be used up until at least the Meiji period.  Without a telescope, observations were somewhat limited—though they also didn't have the same level of light pollution that we have today.  Remember, many woke just before dawn and went to sleep not too long after the sun went down, which only makes sense when you are living in a place where creating light, while doable, also ran the risk of burning your entire house to the ground. It is worth noting that the sky for the ancient Japanese was likely quite different than what most of us see when we look up, unless you are fortunate enough to live in a place with very little light pollution.  For many of those living today in the cities and suburban landscape, go outside at night and you might see the moon and some of the brightest stars, but for most of the ancient Japanese, they would look up and see the heavenly river, the Amakawa, or Milky Way.  They would have looked up at a sky glittering with myriad dots of light, as well as planets and more.  It was both familiar and strange—something one saw regularly and yet something that was also extremely inaccessible. Astronomical observations would have been important for several reasons, as I've mentioned.  They would have been used to keep the calendar in check, but they would also have likely been used to help calibrate the water clock, which helped to tell time.  Of course, going back to the five elements and yin yang theory, it is also believed that the energy, the qi or ki, changed with the seasons and the movements of the stars and planets—planets were not known as such, of course, but their seemingly erratic movements compared to bright lights in the sky meant they were noticed and assigned values within the elemental system. One of the things that came with the changing seasons, the heavenly movements, and the flow of ki was a concept of "kata-imi", literally directional taboos.  There were times when certain directions might be considered favorable or unfavorable for various actions.  This could be something as simple as traveling in a given direction.  In the centuries to come this would spawn an entire practice of kata-tagae, or changing direction.  Is the north blocked, but you need to travel there, anyway?  Well just go northwest to say hello to a friend or visit your local sake brewery, and then travel due east.  Ta-da!  You avoided going directly north!  There were also mantra-like incantations that one might say if they had to travel in an inauspicious direction to counteract the concept of bad influences. This also influenced various other things, and even today you will often see dates where a year and month might be followed by simply the character for "auspicious day" rather than an actual day of the month. So observing the heavens was important, and it was also important that they tostudy the works of those on the continent, whose records could help predict various astronomical phenomena.  Except that there was one tiny problem:  I don't know if you've noticed, but Japan and China are in two different locations.  Not all astronomical phenomena can be observed from all points of the globe.  The Northern Lights, for example, are rarely seen in more southerly latitudes, and while eclipses are not too rare, a total eclipse only impacts certain areas of the earth, along relatively narrow paths. I mention this because it isn't always clear if the records we get in the Nihon Shoki are about phenomena they directly observed or if they are taking reports from elsewhere and incorporating them into the narrative.  One such event is the comet of 676. The entry in the Nihon Shoki tells us that in the 7th lunar month of the 5th year of Temmu Tennou, aka 676 CE, a star appeared in the east that was 7 or 8 shaku in length.  It disappeared two months later. We've mentioned some of this before, but the sky was divided up into "shaku", or "feet", though how exactly it was measured I'm not entirely sure.  It appears to be that one foot was roughly 1.5 degrees of the sky, give or take about a quarter of a degree, with 180 degrees from horizon to horizon.  So it would have been about 10 to 12 degrees in the sky.  Another way to picture it is if you hold out your arm towards the object, and spread your index and little finger, it would probably fit between those two points.  This comet hung around for some time, and a great part about a comet like this is that it was viewable from multiple locations.  After all, as the earth turned, different areas were exposed to the comet as it passed through our part of the solar system.  Thus we have records of it from not just the Nihon Shoki:  We also find it in the Anglo-Saxon chronicles, where it was thought to have foretold the end of Bishop Wilfred's control of Northumbria.  We also see it in Tang, Silla, and Syrian sources. These sources aren't always in complete agreement.  For one thing, they noted when they first saw it, which might have been impacted by local conditions.  And then conversion between lunar and solar calendars can also sometimes get in the way.  Roughtly speaking, we have the Nihon Shoki providing dates of somewhere from about August or September of 676, on the Western calendar, to October or November. Tang sources put it from 4 September to 1 November.  Silla Chronicles claim that it first appeared in the 7th lunar month, so between August and September.  A Syrian Chronicle notes a comet from about 28 August to 26 October in the following year, 677, but this is thought to have been a mistake.  European sources generally seem to claim it was seen in August and lasted for three months.  All of these sightings put it at roughly the same time. Working with that and with known comets, we think we actually know which comet this is:  The Comet de Cheseaux also known as the Comet Klinkenberg-Cheseaux.  And I should mention this is all thanks to a research paper by M. Meyer and G. W. Kronk.  In that paper they propose that this is the comet with the designation of C/1743 X1, or the common names I just mentioned.  If so, based on its trajectory, this comet would have been visible in 336, 676, 1032, 1402, 1744, and is next predicted to show up in 2097.  And no, those aren't all exactly the same amount of time.  It is roughly every 350 years or so, but with the movements of the solar system, the planets, and various gravitational forces that likely slow or speed up its movement, it doesn't show up on exactly regular intervals.  Still, it is pretty incredible to think that we have a record of a comet that was seen the world over at this time, by people looking up from some very different places. Comets were something interesting for early astronomers.  They may have originally been seen as particularly ominous—after all, in the early eras, they were hardly predictable, and it would take years to get enough data to see that they were actually a somewhat regular occurrence.  In fact, it is likely that early astronomers were able to figure out eclipse schedules before comets.  Still, they seem to have come to the realization that comets were in fact another type of natural and reoccurring phenomenon.  That isn't to say that they didn't have any oracular meaning, but it did mean they were less of an obvious disturbance of the heavenly order. We have another comet mentioned in the 10th lunar month of 681, but that one seems to have had less attention focused on it, and we don't have the same details.  Then in the 8th lunar month of 682 we have an entry about a Great Star passing from East to West—which was probably a shooting star, rather than a comet.  Comets, for all that they appear to be streaking across the sky thanks to their long tails, are often relatively stable from an earthbound perspective, taking months to appear and then disappear again. Then, on the 23rd day of the 7th month of 684 we get another comet in the northwest.  This one was more than 10 shaku in length—about 15 degrees, total, give or take.  Given the date, we can be fairly confident about this one, as well: it was the famous Halley's comet.  Halley's comet is fascinating for several reasons.  For one, it has a relatively short period of about 72 to 80 years, though mostly closer to 75 to 77 years in between sightings.  The last time it visited the earth was in 1986, and it is expected back in 2061.  Halley's comet has been recorded since the 3rd century BCE, and, likely because of its short period, it was the first periodic comet to be recognized as such.  There are other periodic comets with short periods, but many of them are not visible with the naked eye.  Halley's comet is perhaps the most studied comet, given its regular and relatively short periodicity.  It is also connected to the famous writer, humorist, and essayist, Samuel Langhorne Clemens, aka Mark Twain.  He was born only a few days after the comet reached perihelion in 1835 and died a day after it reached the same point again in 1910, and while he may not have visited Japan in his lifetime, it was a period of great change both in his home country of America and in Japan.  America, of course, would undergo a Civil War over the issue of slavery in the early 1860s, and shortly after that Japan would have its own civil war in the form of the Meiji Revolution.  And while he never visited—and translation could only do so much to capture the art of his prose—Mark Twain's works were apparently quite influential in Japan in the early 20th century. Of course, comets were just one of the celestial phenomena to be observed.  The astronomers were interested in just about anything happening in the sky.  We have accounts of both solar and lunar eclipses, and not necessarily full eclipses either.  We even have notice of the movement of some planets, such as in 681, when they noted that the planet mars "entered" the moon. Obviously the astronomers weren't recording every raincloud that came through—at least not in the main chronicles—but they did capture a fair number of events.  They did record particularly memorable storms.  For instances, in the 8th lunar month of 675 there was a storm that is said to have caused sand to fly and which then damaged houses.  This sounds like a wind storm without rain—after all, if there was rain, you would expect that the sand would have been wet and tamped down.  It is possible to have hurricane level winds without the rain.  While typhoons typically bring rain, especially as they usually build up their strength at sea, it is possible to have the winds alone, as I've experienced, myself, in Tokyo.  This most likely happens in an isolated area—there is water and rain somewhere, but the typhoon can be large, so parts of it may only get the wind and little or no rain.  I wonder if something like that happened in this instance.  It is also possible that this record refers to actual sand being brought across from the continent.  In some instances, sand can be lifted up from as far away as Mongolia and carried all the way to Japan, though it is pretty rare. And it wasn't just wind and sand.  We get accounts of hail coming down as large as peaches, torrential rainstorms, and even ash, likely from a volcanic eruption that was otherwise unrecorded.  There are also accounts of snow, though typically recorded in times where you wouldn't expect to see it, such as the third lunar month, which would mean snow in late April or early May. Mostly these storms are mentioned in terms of how they affected the immediate fortunes of the living, but sometimes storms did even more damage.  In 682, for example, a hoar-frost was reported in both Shinano and Kibi in the 7th lunar month.  On its own, this probably wouldn't have been worth mentioning, but the chroniclers add that because of storms the "five grains had not formed".  So storms had diminished the crops and the hoar-frost was apparently the killing blow.  The harvest that year would be lean, and it would not be a happy time for many that winter. And then, just as important as what was happening was what was not.  There are several mentions of droughts, particularly towards the end of Spring, early Summer.  This is traditionally a drier period, and if it is too dry it could harm the harvest.  And so the government was expected to find a way to bring the rain—a tall order, the general resolution to which seems to be prayers and rituals designed to bring rain.  In a place like Japan, I suspect that it was usually just a matter of time before the prayers were "successful", thus reinforcing their presumed efficacy. Some of the things that they recorded were a bit more mysterious.  For example, in the second lunar month of 680 we are told that a sound like drums was heard from the East.  There are many things this could theoretically be, from rumbles of thunder to some other phenomenon, though the following year we have a note about thunder in the West, so theoretically they knew the difference between thunder and drums.  Later that same year, 680, we are told that there was a "brightness" in the East from the hour of the dog to the hour of the rat—about 8pm to midnight.  Was this some kind of aurora?  But wouldn't that have been in the north, rather than the east?    Could it have been some kind of lightning?  But that is a long time for a lightning storm to hang around.  And there are other strange things, some of which seem impossible and we have to doubt.  For example, in 684 they said that, at dusk, the seven stars of the Big Dipper drifted together to the northeast and sank.  Unless they are just recording the natural setting of the stars of the big dipper.  Certainly, over time the constellation appears to rotate around the north star, and it dips down to or below the horizon in the autumn months.  So were they just talking about the natural, yearly setting of the stars, or something else? There may be some clues in that the 11th lunar month, when that was recorded, we see several other heavenly phenomena recorded.  Two days after the Big Dipper set, at sunset, a star fell in the eastern quarter of the sky that we are told was as large as a jar.  Later, the constellations were wholly disordered and stars fell like rain.  That same month, a star shot up in the zenith and proceeded along with the Pleiades until the end of the month.  While this sounds like shooting stars and a possible meteor shower, a later commenter suggested that this was all a heavenly omen for the state of the court, showing the "disordered" state of the nobility at this time.  Of course, this was also a year and change before the sovereign's eventual passing, so there is also the possibility that the Chroniclers were looking at events later and ascribing meaning and importance after the fact. In another account of something seemingly wonderous: in 682 we are told that something shaped like a Buddhist flag, colored like flame, was seen by all of the provinces and then sank into the Japan sea north of Koshi.  A white mist is also said to have risen up from the Eastern mountains. There are various things that could be going on here.  It strikes me that the white mist could be a cloud, but could also be something volcanic.  And the flame colored prayer flag makes me think about how a high cloud can catch the light of the rising or setting sun.  That could look like a flag, and can seem extremely odd depending on the other conditions in the sky. Or maybe it was aliens. Okay, it is unlikely that it was aliens, but I think that these do give an idea of the kinds of records that were being made about the observed phenomena.  Obviously the Nihon Shoki is recording those things that were considered particularly significant for whatever reason.  This could just be because it was something odd and unexplained, or perhaps it was more well known but rare.  It may have even had religious connotations based on some aspect, like evoking the image of Buddhist flags.  And it is possible that it was thought to have had significant impact on events—perhaps even an impact that isn't clear to us today, many centuries removed from the events. Some things were clear, however.  Lightning strikes are often mentioned specifically when they strike something of note.  In 678, we are told that a pillar of the Western Hall of the New Palace was struck by lightning, though apparently the building itself survived.  Then, in 686, Lighting appeared in the southern sky with a large roar of thunder.  A fire broke out and caught the tax cloth storehouse of the Ministry of Popular affairs, which immediately exploded in flames.  After all, a thatched roofed, wooden building filled with kindling in the form of cloth—and likely a  fair amount of paper and writing supplies to keep track of it all—sounds like a bonfire waiting to happen.  There were reports that the fire had actually started in Prince Osakabe's palace and then spread to the Ministry of Popular Affairs from there. It is also worth noting that recording of such events was still somewhat new to the archipelago as a whole. They were learning from the continent, but also defining their own traditions. Observations of natural phenomena weren't just relegated to celestial occurrences or weather.  After all, there was something else that one could observe in the sky:  birds.  Now this wasn't your average bird-watching—though I'm not saying that there weren't casual birders in ancient Japan, and if we ever find someone's birding diary from that era I think that would be so cool.  But there were some things that were significant enough to be mentioned. For example, in 678 we get a report of "atori", or bramblings.  Bramblings are small songbirds which are found across Eurasia.  Notably they are migratory, and are known to migrate in huge flocks especially in the winter time, and sure enough on the 27th day of the 12th month we are told that the bramblings flew from the southwest to the northeast, covering the entire sky.  This makes me think about some of the other mass migrations that used to occur that have largely been reduced significantly due to habitat loss, disruption to traditional migratory routes, and other population pressures on various bird species.  Still, having so many birds that it blocked out the sky certainly seems a significant event to report on.  We later see a similar account in 680, with the flock moving from southeast to northwest.  Given the location of Asuka it sounds like they were flocking in the mountains and heading out over the Nara Basin, perhaps seeking food in another mountainous area. In 682, the birders were at it again.  This time, around midday on the 11th day of the 9th lunar month, several hundreds of cranes appeared around the Palace and soared up into the sky.  They were there for about two hours before they dispersed.  Once again, cranes are migratory and known to flock.  Cranes are also known as a symbol of long life and joy—and I can understand it.  Have you ever seen a flock of cranes?  They are not small birds, and they can be really an incredible sight.  Flocks of cranes themselves were probably not that rare, and it was no doubt more about so many gathering around the palace which made it particularly special. It wasn't just birds in the sky that were considered important symbols, though.  Birds often are noted as auspicious omens.  Usually strange birds, plants, or other such things are found in various provinces and presented to the throne.    So in 675, Yamato presented auspicious "barn-door fowl", likely meaning a fancy chicken.  Meanwhile, the Eastern provinces presented a white falcon and the province of Afumi presented a white kite.  Chickens are associated with the sun and thus with the sun goddess, Amaterasu, and albino versions of animals were always considered auspicious, often being mentioned in Buddhist sources.  Later, in 680, we see a small songbird, a "Shitodo", also described as white, and probably albino, sent to the court from nearby Settsu. Then, in 681 there is mention of a red sparrow.  Red coloration is not quite the same as albinism, though it is something that does occur at times, when the brownish coloration comes out more red than brown, and I suspect this is what we are talking about.  This is most likely just a recessed gene or genetic mutation, similar to causes for albinism, but just in a different place in the DNA.  As for why it was important:  I'd first and foremost note that anything out of the ordinary (and even some ordinary things) could be considered a sign.   Red was also seen as an auspicious color, so that may have had something to do with it as well.  And then there is the concept of Suzaku, the red bird of the south.  Suzaku is usually depicted as an exotic bird species of some kind, like how we might depict a phoenix.  But it was also just a "red bird", so there is that, and perhaps that was enough.  Not that this red sparrow was "Suzaku", but evoked the idea of the southern guardian animal.  A year prior, in 680, a red bird—we aren't told what kind—had perched on a southern gate, which even more clearly screams of the Suzaku aesthetic. It is probably worth noting here that in 686, towards the end of the reign, not that anyone knew it at the time, Ohoama decided to institute a new nengo, or regnal period.  It was called Shuuchou—red or vermillion bird—and it likely referred to Suzaku.  This nengo was cut short, however, with Ohoama's death that same year.  Nengo were often chosen with auspicious names as a kind of hope for the nation, so clearly "red bird" was considered a good thing. A month after the red sparrow, Ise sent a white owl, and then a month after that, the province of Suwou sent a red turtle, which they let loose in the pond at the Shima palace.  Again, these were probably just examples of animals seen as auspicious, though they would have likely been recorded by the Onmyou-ryou, who would have likely combed through various sources and precedents to determine what kind of meaning might be attached to them. Color wasn't the only thing that was important.  In 682, the Viceroy of Tsukushi reported that they had found a sparrow with three legs.  There are numerous reasons why this could be, but there is particular significance in Japan and Asia more generally.  A three legged bird is often associated with the sun Andusually depicted as a black outline of a three legged bird inside of a red sun.  In Japan this was often conflated with the Yata-garasu, the Great Crow, which is said to have led the first mythical sovereign, Iware Biko, to victory in his conquest of Yamato.  Thus we often see a three legged crow depicted in the sun, which was an object of particular veneration for the Wa people from centuries before.  And I suspect that the little three-legged sparrow from Tsukushi  I suspect that this had particular significance because of that image. Animals were not the only auspicious things presented to the throne.  In 678, Oshinomi no Miyatsuko no Yoshimaro presented the sovereign with five auspicious stalks of rice.  Each stalk, itself, had other branches.  Rice, of course, was extremely important in Japan, both from a ritual and economic sense, so presenting rice seems appropriate.  Five stalks recalls things like the five elemental theory—and in general five was consider a good number.  Three and five are both good, prime numbers, while four, pronounced "Shi", sounds like death and is considered inauspicious.  Three, or "San" is sometimes associated with life, and five is associated with the five elements, but also just the fact that it is half of ten, and we have five fingers on one hand and in so many other ways, five is regarded as a good number in much of Asia. That the stalks had multiple branches likely referred to them bearing more than the usual amount of rice on them, which seems particularly hopeful.  Certainly the court thought so.  In light of the auspicious gift, all sentences of penal servitude and lower were remitted.  In 680, Officials of the Department of Law gave tribute of auspicious stalks of grain, themselves.  I'm not sure, in this case, that it was all that they hoped, however, as that began three days straight of rain and flooding. A year earlier, in 679, we are told that the district of Ito, in Kii, immediately south of Yamato, sent as tribute the "herb of long life".  We are told that it "resembled" a mushroom—probably meaning it was a mushroom, or maybe something formed into a mushroom shape.  But the stem was about a foot long and the crown was two spans, about 6 feet in diameter.  This is pretty incredible, and I have to wonder if there is a bit of exaggeration going on here. Another tribute was a horn found on Mt. Katsuraki.  It branched into two at the base, was united at the end, and had some flesh and hair still attached, about an inch in length.  They claimed it must be horn or a Lin, or Kirin, sometimes referred to as an Asian unicorn—a mythical creature considered to be quite auspicious and benevolent.  This was on the 26th day in the 2nd lunar month of the year 680, probably around March or April.  I highly suspect that what they found was an oddly shaped bit of antler from  a buck whose antlers had begun to come in and which might have been taken out by wolves or bears or something else altogether.  The fact that the ends were said to be fused together could just be referring to some kind of malformation of the antlers.  The fur and flesh could mean that the antlers were still growing—antlers would probably just be coming in around early spring time.  Still, there is no telling how long it was there, so it could have been from the previous year as well.  Attributing it to a kirin seems a bit of a stretch, but it was clearly something unusual. Animals and plants were recorded in tribute, but also when something odd happened.  Fruiting out of season was one such occurrence, which we've seen elsewhere in the chronicles as well.  There was even a record when the famous Tsuki tree outside of Asukadera had a branch fall down.  Presumably it was a large and noticeable branch, and by now this appears to have been a tree with a bit of age to it that had seen a lot, so it makes sense it got a mention. Finally, we go from the heavens to the earth.    Perhaps the most numerous observations in the Chronicles were the earthquakes.  We've noted in the past that Japan is extremely active, volcanically speaking, so it makes sense that there are multiple accounts of earthquakes each year, especially if they were compiling reports from around the country.  Most of these are little more than just a note that there was an earthquake, but a few stand out. The first is the 12th lunar month of 678.  We are told that there was a large earthquake in Tsukushi—modern Kyushu. The ground split open to the width of about 20 feet for more than 30,000 feet.  Many of the commoners' houses in the area were torn down.  In one place there was a house atop a hill, and though the hill crumbled down the house somehow remained intact.  The inhabitants had apparently been home and must have been oblivious, as they didn't realize anything had happened until they woke up the next morning. Again, probably a bit of hyperbole in here, but if we think back to things like the 2016 Kumamoto earthquake, where large areas of land shifted noticeably along the fault lines, it is likely that this was a similar or even more catastrophic event.  And here I'll give a quick plug for Kumamoto, which is still working to rebuild from the earthquake, and if you ever get a chance, I recommend a visit to the Kumamoto Earthquake Memorial Museum or Kioku, where you can see for yourself just how powerful mother nature can be. Another powerful earthquake was mentioned in the 10th lunar month of 684.  If the earthquake in Tsukushi had hit mostly agricultural areas, based on the description, this seems to have hit more populated regions.  We are told that it started in the dark of night, the hour of the boar, so about 10pm, give or take an hour.  The shaking was so bad that throughout the country men and women cried out and were disoriented—they could not tell east from west, a condition no doubt further hindered by the dark night sky.  There were mountain slides and rivers changed course, breaking their banks and flooding nearby areas.  Official buildings of the provinces and districts, the barns and houses of the common people, and the temples, pagodas, and shrines were all destroyed in huge numbers.  Many people and domestic animals were killed or injured.  The hot springs of Iyo were dried up and ceased to flow.  In the province of Tosa, more than 500,000 shiro of cultivated land sank below sea level.  Old men said that they had never seen such an earthquake.  On that night there was a rumbling noise like that of drums heard in the east—possibly similar to what we had mentioned earlier.  Some say that the island of Idzu, aka Vries Island, the volcanic island at the entrance of Edo Bay, increased on the north side by more than 3,000 feet and that a new island had been formed.  The noise of the drums was attributed to the gods creating that island. So here we have a catastrophic quake that impacted from Iyo, on the western end of Shikoku, all the way to the head of Edo Bay, modern Tokyo.  This appears to be what seismologists have labelled a "Nankai Trough Megathrust Earthquake".  Similar quakes have occurred and are predicted to occur in the future., along a region of Japan from the east coast of Kyushu, through the Seto Inland Sea, including Shikoku, through the Kii peninsula and all the way to Mt. Fuji.  The Nankai Trough, or Southern Sea Trough, is the area where the continental shelf drops down, and where the Philippine tectonic plate slips underneath the Eurasian—or more specifically the Amuric—plate.  As these plates move it can cause multiple events all along the trough at the same time.  Since being regularly recorded, these quakes have been noted every 100 to 150 years, with the last one being the Showa Nankai quakes of 1944 and 1946. For all of the destruction that it brought, however, apparently it didn't stop the court.  Two days after this devastating quake we are told that Presents were made to the Princes and Ministers.  Either they weren't so affected in the capital, or perhaps the date given for one of the two records is not quite reliable.  Personally, I find it hard to believe that there would be presents given out two days later unless they were some form of financial aid.  But what do I know?  It is possible that the court itself was not as affected as other areas, and they may not have fully even grasped the epic scale of the destruction that would later be described in the Chronicles, given the length of time it took to communicate messages across the country. Which brings us back to the "science" of the time, or at least the observation, hoping to learn from precedence or piece out what messages the world might have for the sovereign and those who could read the signs.  While many of the court's and Chronicler's conclusions may give us pause, today, we should nonetheless be thankful that they at least decided to keep notes and jot down their observations.  That record keeping means that we don't have to only rely on modern records to see patterns that could take centuries to reveal themselves.  Sure, at this time, those records were  still a bit spotty, but it was the start of something that would be remarkably important, and even though these Chronicles may have been focused on propaganda, the fact that they include so many other references are an incalculable boon to us, today, if we can just see to make the connections.  And with that, I think I've rambled enough for this episode.  We still have a couple more to fully cover this period. 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.  

La verdad detrás de Stranger Things que el gobierno de EE. UU. ha ocultado por décadas. ¡Familia Paranormal! En este capítulo de #Pulso desmantelaremos la madre de todas las conspiraciones. Yo te garantizo que la historia de Montauk es más real y retorcida que cualquier ficción. Analizamos el poder de la Silla de Montauk, un dispositivo capaz de amplificar la mente humana hasta afectar la realidad. Hablaremos de los Chicos Montauk y la verdad detrás de Duncan Cameron, el psíquico que materializó una criatura gigantesca y que desató el caos. Acompáñenme a descubrir por qué la serie Stranger Things originalmente se llamaba Montauk y a investigar qué hay de verdad en el incidente del 12 de agosto de 1983, el día en que el tiempo se dobló.

This week Jun and Daniel discuss recent news and cultural trends from November 2025. The episode covers APEC 2025 hosted in Gyeongju where Korea gifted Trump a Shilla gold crown, contrasting Korean labor debates between the London Bagel Museum overwork death and dawn delivery service bans, the viral Gwangjang Market pricing scandal, and the election of Zoran Momdani as New York City's first Muslim and youngest mayor in over a century. The hosts also discuss Gen Alpha slang, tackle Suneung English questions, and respond to listener comments.If you're interested in any of these topics, tune in to hear Daniel and Jun discuss all this and more! This episode offers cross-cultural analysis on labor rights, cultural diplomacy, and social responsibility.As a reminder, we publish our episodes bi-weekly from Seoul, South Korea. We hope you enjoy listening to our conversation, and we're so excited to have you following us on this journey!Support the showWe hope you enjoy listening to our conversation, and we're so excited to have you following us on this journey!Support us on Patreon:https://patreon.com/user?u=99211862Follow us on socials: https://www.instagram.com/koreanamericanpodcast/https://twitter.com/korampodcasthttps://www.tiktok.com/@koreanamericanpodcastQuestions/Comments/Feedback? Email us at: koreanamericanpodcast@gmail.com Member of the iyagi media network (www.iyagimedia.com)

La historia completa de Ximena Romo está llena de coincidencias, riesgos y decisiones inesperadas que, sin buscarlo, la llevaron a convertirse en una de las actrices más sólidas de su generación. Pero hay un detalle en su trayectoria que pocos conocen… y aquí lo revelamos. Hosted by Simplecast, an AdsWizz company. See https://pcm.adswizz.com for information about our collection and use of personal data for advertising.

Today we're going to learn some fun new nouns for physical items, including the words for "chair", "box", "cash", and "salt". We'll also get some spoken practice quizzing with these new words in lots of different contexts. Practice all of today's Spanish for free at LCSPodcast.com/189

Clever strategy or cultural misstep? Crown gift to Trump has people talking진행자: 홍유, Tannith Kriel기사요약: 이재명 대통령이 고대 신라 금관 복제품을 도널드 트럼프 전 미국 대통령에게 선물하자, 미국 내 ‘노 킹스' 시위와 시기 문제로 논란이 일었지만 일부는 이를 실리 외교로 옹호하며 찬반이 엇갈렸다.[1] President Lee Jae Myung presenting a gold crown to US President Donald Trump immediately sparked heated debate in both the United States and South Korea, with many expressing bewilderment at the timing and cultural implications of the gift.spark a debate: 논쟁을 촉발하다, 뜨거운 논의를 불러일으키다bewilderment: 당혹감, 혼란스러움implication: 함의, 의미[2] In online South Korean communities, opinions were divided. Some criticized the gesture as “tone-deaf” in the wake of massive “No Kings” demonstrations in the US, while others viewed it as a strategic act of pragmatic diplomacy, particularly given the high-stakes tariff negotiations then underway between the two nations.tone-deaf: 분위기·정서를 파악하지 못하는, 상황을 잘못 읽는pragmatic: 실용적인, 현실적인 접근을 하는[3] At the center of the controversy is a specially crafted replica of a gold crown excavated from the Cheonmachong Tomb in Gyeongju, believed to date to the fifth or sixth century during the ancient Silla Kingdom (57 BC-AD 935). Lee conferred the crown, along with the Order of Mugunghwa, Korea's highest honor, to Trump during their summit on Wednesday in Gyeongju, North Gyeongsang Province, on the sidelines of the Asia-Pacific Economic Cooperation summit. The original crown, unearthed in the late 1970s in Silla capital Gyeongju, has been designated as National Treasure No. 188.excavated: 발굴된, 파내어진 (고고학적 발견에서 사용)confer: (상·칭호 등을) 수여하다, 부여하다[4] The replica was crafted from approximately 1 kilogram of gold, which alone currently commands a market price of around 187 million won ($131,000).command: (특정 가격을) 얻다, 형성하다기사원문: https://www.koreaherald.com/article/10605150

This episode we start to get more into the material culture of the period with court fashion, as we look at the court robes that went along with the updated court ranks.  Granted, we only have a few resources, but from those it does seem like we can construct at least a plausible idea of what the court may have looked like at this time. For more discussion, check out the blogpost:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-137   Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Episode 137:  Courtly Fashion. In the New Year's ceremony, the court officials lined up in front of the Kiyomihara Palace, arranged by their relative court rank, dressed in their assigned court robes.  The effect was impressive—the rows of officials painting the courtyard like the bands of color in a rainbow, albeit one with only a couple of hues.  The fact that they were all wearing the same style of dress and black, stiffened gauze hats only added to the effect.  The individual officers were all but lost in what was, at least in outward form, a single, homogenous machine of government, just waiting for the command of their monarch to attend to the important matters of state. We are covering the reign of Ohoama no Ohokimi, aka Ama no Nunahara oki no mabito no Sumera no Mikoto, aka Temmu Tennou.  Last episode we went over the changes he had made to the family titles—the kabane—as well as to the courtly rank system.  For the former, he had consolidated the myriad kabane and traditional titles across Yamato into a series of eight—the Yakusa no Kabane.   These were, from highest to lowest: Mabito, Asomi, Sukune, Imiki, Michinoshi, Omi, Muraji, and Inaki.  By the way, you might notice that "Mabito" actually occurs in Ohoama's posthumous name:  Ama no Nunahara oki no mabito, which lends more credence to the idea that that kabane was for those with a special connection to the royal lineage. Besides simplifying and restructuring the kabane, Ohoama also reformed the court rank system.  He divided the Princely ranks into two categories:  Myou, or Bright, and Jou, or Pure.  For the court nobles the categories were:                Shou – Upright                Jiki – Straight                Gon – Diligent                Mu – Earnest                Tsui – Pursue                Shin – Advancement Each category was further divided into four grades (except for the very first princely category, Myou, which was only two).  Each grade was then further divided into large, "dai", or broad, "kou". And this brings us to our topic today. Along with this new rank system, Ohoama's administration also instituted a new set of court sumptuary laws. Some are vague in the record—we can just make assumptions for what is going on based on what we know from later fashion choices.  Others are a little more clear.  We'll take a look at those sumptuary laws, particularly those that were directly associated with the new court rank system, but we'll also look at the clothing styles more generally. To start with, let's talk about what we know about clothing in the archipelago in general.  Unfortunately, fabric doesn't tend to survive very well in the generally acidic soils of the Japanese archipelago.  Cloth tends to break down pretty quickly.  That said, we have fragments here and there and impressions in pottery, so we have some idea that there was some kind of woven fabric from which to make clothing out of. And before I go too far I want to give a shout out to the amazing people at the Kyoto Costume Museum.  They have a tremendous website and I will link to it in the comments.  While there may be some debate over particular interpretations of historical clothing, it is an excellent resource to get a feel for what we know of the fashion of the various periods.  I'll also plug our own website, SengokuDaimyo.com, which has a "Clothing and Accessory" section that, while more geared towards Heian and later periods, may still be of some use in looking up particular terms and getting to know the clothing and outfits. At the farthest reaches of pre-history, we really don't have a lot of information for clothing.  There is evidence of woven goods in the Jomon period, and we have Yayoi burials with bits of cloth here and there, but these are all scraps.  So at best we have some conjecture as to what people were wearing, and possibly some ability to look across the Korean peninsula and see what people had, there. There are scant to no reliable records from early on in Japanese history, and most of those don't really do a great job of describing the clothing.  Even where we do get something, like the Weizhi, one has to wonder given how they tended to crib notes from other entries. There is at least one picture scroll of interest: Portraits of Periodical Offering of Liang, or Liáng -Zhígòngtú.  It is said to have been painted by Xiao Yi in the early 6th century, and while the original no longer exists there is an 11th century copy from the time of the Song Dynasty.  The scroll shows  various ambassadors to the Liang court, including one from Wa.  The Wa ambassador is shown with what appears to be a wide piece of cloth around his hips and legs, tied in front.  His lower legs are covered in what we might call kyahan today: a rather simple wrap around leg from below the knee to the foot.  He has another, blue piece of cloth around his shoulders, almost like a shawl, and it is also tied in front.  Then there is a cloth wrapped and tied around his head. It's hard to know how much of this depiction is accurate and how much the artist was drawing on memory and descriptions from things like the Weizhi or Wei Chronicles, which stated that the Wa people wore wide cloths wrapped around and seamlessly tied As such, it may be more helpful to look at depictions actually from the archipelago: specifically, some of the human-figured haniwa, those clay cylinders and statues that adorned the burial mounds which gave the kofun period its name.  Some of these haniwa are fairly detailed, and we can see ties, collars, and similar features of clothing. These haniwa primarily seem to cluster towards the end of the Kofun period, in the later 6th century, so it is hard to say how much they can be used for earlier periods, though that is exactly what you will typically see for periods where we have little to know evidence.  I'm also not sure how regional certain fashions might have been, and we could very much be suffering from survivorship bias—that is we only know what survived and assume that was everything, or even the majority. Still, it is something. Much of what we see in these figures is some kind of upper garment that has relatively tight sleeves, like a modern shirt or jacket might have, with the front pieces overlapping create a V-shaped neckline.  The garment hem often hangs down to just above the knee, flaring out away from the body, and it's held closed with ties and some kind of belt, possibly leather in some cases, and in others it looks like a tied loop of cloth.  There is evidence of a kind of trouser, with two legs, and we see ties around the knee.  In some cases, they even have small bells hanging from the ties.  Presumably the trousers might have ties up towards the waist, but we cannot see that in the examples we have. We also see individuals who have no evidence of any kind of bifurcated lower garment.  That may indicate an underskirt of some kind, or possibly what's called a "mo"—but it could also be just a simplification for stability, since a haniwa has a cylindrical base anyway.  It is not always obvious when you are looking at a haniwa figure whether it depicts a man or woman: in some cases there are two dots on the chest that seem to make it obvious, but the haniwa do come from different artisans in different regions, so there is a lot of variability. We also see evidence of what seem to be decorative sashes that are worn across the body, though not in all cases.  There are various types of headgear and hairstyles.  Wide-brimmed and domed hats are not uncommon, and we also see combs and elaborate hairstyles depicted.  On some occasions we can even see that they had closed toed shoes.  For accessories, we see haniwa wearing jewelry, including necklaces (worn by both men and women), bracelets, and earrings.  In terms of actual human jewelry, early shell bracelets demonstrate trade routes, and the distinctive magatama, or comma shaped jewel, can be found in the archipelago and on the Korean peninsula, where it is known as "gogok".  Based on lines or even colored pigment on the haniwa, it appears that many of these outfits were actually quite heavily decorated.  Paint on the outfits is sometimes also placed on the face, suggesting that they either painted or tattooed themselves, something mentioned in the Wei Chronicles.  We also have archaeological examples of dyed cloth, so it is interesting that people are often depicted in undyed clothing.  There is one haniwa that I find particularly interesting, because they appear to be wearing more of a round-necked garment, and they have a hat that is reminiscent of the phrygian cap: a conical cap with the top bent forward.  These are traits common to some of the Sogdians and other Persian merchants along the silk road, raising the possibility that it is meant to depict a foreigner, though it is also possible that it was just another local style. If we compare this to the continent, we can see some immediate difference.  In the contemporaneous Sui dynasty, we can see long flowing robes, with large sleeves for men and women.  The shoes often had an upturned placket that appears to have been useful to prevent one from tripping on long, flowing garments.  Many of these outfits were also of the v-neck variety, with two overlapping pieces, though it is often shown held together with a fabric belt that is tied in front.  The hats appear to either be a kind of loose piece of fabric, often described as a turban, wrapped around the head, the ends where it ties together trailing behind, or black lacquered crowns—though there were also some fairly elaborate pieces for the sovereign. As Yamato started to import continental philosophy, governance, and religion, they would also start to pick up on continental fashion.  This seems particularly true as they adopted the continental concept of "cap rank" or "kan-i". Let's go over what we know about this system, from its first mention in the Chronicles up to where we are in Ohoama's reign. As a caveat, there is a lot we don't know about the details of these garments, but we can make some guesses. The first twelve cap-ranks, theoretically established in 603, are somewhat questionable in their historicity, as are so many things related to Shotoku Taishi.  And their names are clearly based on Confucian values:  Virtue, Humanity, Propriety, Faith, Justice, and Wisdom, or Toku, Nin, Rei, Shin, Gi, and Chi.  The five values and then just "Virtue", itself. The existence of this system does seem to be confirmed by the Sui Shu, the Book of Sui, which includes a note in the section on the country of Wa that they used a 12 rank system based on the Confucian values, but those values were given in the traditional Confucian order vice the order given in the Nihon Shoki.   The rank system of the contemporaneous Sui and Tang dynasties was different from these 12 ranks, suggesting that the Yamato system either came from older dynasties—perhaps from works on the Han dynasty or the Northern and Southern Dynasty, periods—or they got it from their neighbors, Baekje, Silla, and Goguryeo.  There does seem to be a common thread, though, that court rank was identifiable in one's clothes. As for the caps themselves, what did they look like?  One would assume that the Yamato court just adopted a continental style cap, and yet, which one? It isn't fully described, and there are a number of types of headwear that we see in the various continental courts. Given that, we aren't entirely sure exactly what it looked like, but we do have a couple of sources that we can look at and use to make some assumptions.  These sources l ead us to the idea of a round, colored cap made of fabric, around the brim that was probably the fabric or image prescribed for that rank.  It is also often depicted with a bulbous top, likely for the wearer's hair, and may have been tied to their top knot.     Our main source for this is the Tenjukoku Mandala Embroidery (Tenjukoku-mandara-shuuchou) at Chuuguuji temple, which was a temple built for the mother of Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi.    This embroidery was created in 622, so 19 years after the 12 ranks would have been implemented. It depicts individuals in round-necked jackets that appear to have a part straight down the center.  Beneath the jacket one can see a pleated hem, possibly something like a "hirami", a wrapped skirt that is still found in some ceremonial imperial robes.  It strikes me that this could also be the hem of something like the hanpi, which was kind of like a vest with a pleated lower edge.  Below that we see trousers—hakama—with a red colored hem—at least on one figure that we can see.  He also appears to be wearing a kind of slipper-like shoe. As for the women, there are a few that appear to be in the mandala, but it is hard to say for certain as the embroidery has been damaged over the years. That said, from what we can tell, women probably would have worn something similar to the men in terms of the jacket and the pleated under-skirt, but then, instead of hakama, we see a pleated full-length skirt, or mo.  We also don't have a lot of evidence for them wearing hats or anything like that. The round necked jacket is interesting as it appears to be similar to the hou that was common from northern China across the Silk Road, especially amongst foreigners.  This garment  came to displace the traditional robes of the Tang court and would become the basis for much of the court clothing from that period, onwards.  The round necked garment had central panels that overlapped, and small ties or fastenings at either side of the neck to allow for an entirely enclosed neckline.  This was more intricate than just two, straight collars, and so may have taken time to adopt, fully. The next change to the cap-rank system was made in 647, two years into the Taika Reform.  The ranks then were more directly named for the caps, or crowns—kanmuri—and their materials and colors.  The ranks translate to Woven, Embroidered, Purple, Brocade, Blue, Black, and finally "Establish Valor" for the entry level rank. The system gets updated two years later, but only slightly.  We still see a reference to Woven stuff, Embroidery, and Purple, but then the next several ranks change to Flower, Mountain, and Tiger—or possibly Kingfisher.  These were a little more removed from the cap color and material, and may have had something to do with designs that were meant to be embroidered on the cap or on the robes in some way, though that is just speculation based on later Ming and Qing court outfits. Naka no Ohoye then updates it again in 664, but again only a little.  He seems to add back in the "brocade" category, swapping out the "flower", and otherwise just adds extra grades within each category to expand to 26 total rank grades. And that brings us to the reforms of 685, mentioned last episode.  This new system was built around what appear to be moral exhortations—Upright, Straight, Diligent, Earnest, etc.  And that is great and all, but how does that match up with the official robes? What color goes with each rank category?  Fortunately, this time around, the Chronicle lays it out for us pretty clearly. First off we are given the color red for the Princely ranks—not purple as one might have thought.  Specifically, it is "Vermillion Flower", hanezu-iro, which Bentley translates as the color of the "Oriental bush" or salmon.  In the blogpost we'll link to a table of colors that the founder of Sengoku Daimyo, Anthony Bryant, had put together, with some explanation of how to apply it.  I would note that there is often no way to know exactly what a given color was like or what shades were considered an acceptable range.  Everything was hand-dyed, and leaving fabric in the dye a little longer, changing the proportions, or just fading over time could create slightly different variants in the hue, but we think we can get pretty close. From there we have the six "common" ranks for the nobility.  Starting with the first rank, Upright, we have "Dark Purple".  Then we have "Light Purple".  This pattern continues with Dark and Light Green and then Dark and Light Grape or Lilac.  Purple in this case is Murasaki, and green here is specifically Midori, which is more specifically green than the larger category of "Aoi", which covers a spectrum of blue to green.  The grape or lilac is specifically "suou", and based on Bentley's colors it would be a kind of purple or violet. The idea is that the official court outfits for each rank would be the proper color.  And yes, that means if you get promoted in rank, your first paycheck—or rice stipend—is probably going to pay for a new set of official clothes.  Fortunately for the existing court nobles at the time, in the last month of 685, the Queen provided court clothing for 55 Princes and Ministers, so they could all look the part. And the look at court was important.  In fact, several of the edicts from this time focus specifically on who was allowed—or expected—to wear what.  For instance, in the 4th month of 681, they established 92 articles of the law code, and among those were various sumptuary laws—that is to say, laws as to what you could wear.  We are told that they applied to everyone from Princes of the blood down to the common person, and it regulated the wearing of precious metals, pearls, and jewels; the type of fabric one could use, whether purple, brocade, embroidery, or fine silks; and it also regulated woollen carpets, caps, belts, and the colors of various things. And here I'd like to pause and give some brief thought to how this played into the goals of the court, generally, which is to say the goal of creating and establishing this new system of governance in the cultural psyche of the people of the archipelago.  From the continental style palaces, to the temples, and right down to the clothing that people were wearing, this was all orchestrated, consciously or otherwise, to emphasize and even normalize the changes that were being introduced.  When everything around you is conforming to the new rules, it makes it quite easy for others to get on board. The court had surrounded themselves with monumental architecture that was designed along continental models and could best be explained through continental reasoning.  Even if they weren't Confucian or Daoist, those lines of reasoning ran through the various cultural and material changes that they were taking up.  Sure, they put their own stamp on it, but at the same time, when everything is right in front of you, it would become that much harder to deny or push back against it. And when you participated in the important rituals of the state, the clothing itself became a part of the pageantry.  It reinforced the notion that this was something new and different, and yet also emphasized that pushing against it would be going against the majority.  So court uniforms were another arm of the state's propaganda machine, all designed to reinforce the idea that the heavenly sovereign—the Tennou—was the right and just center of political life and deserving of their position.  Getting back to the sumptuary laws and rank based regulations: It is unfortunate that the record in the Nihon Shoki doesn't tell us exactly how things were regulated, only that they were, at least in some cases.  So for anything more we can only make assumptions based on later rules and traditions.  A few things we can see right away, though.  First is the restriction of the color purple.  Much as in Europe and elsewhere in the world, getting a dark purple was something that was not as easy as one might think, and so it tended to be an expensive dye and thus it would be restricted to the upper classes—in this case the princely and ministerial rank, no doubt.  Similarly brocade and fine silks were also expensive items that were likely restricted to people of a particular social station for that reason. The mention of woolen rugs is particularly intriguing.  Bentley translates this as woven mattresses, but I think that woolen rugs makes sense, as we do have examples of woolen "rugs" in Japan in at least the 8th century, stored in the famous Shousouin repository at Toudaiji temple, in Nara.  These are all imported from the continent and are actually made of felt, rather than woven.  As an imported item, out of a material that you could not get in the archipelago, due to a notable lack of sheep, they would have no doubt been expensive. The funny thing is that the carpets in the Shousouin may not have been meant as carpets.  For the most part they are of a similar size and rectangular shape, and one could see how they may have been used as sleeping mattresses or floor coverings.  However, there is some conjecture that they came from the Silk Road and may have been originally meant as felt doors for the tents used by the nomadic steppe peoples.  This is only conjecture, as I do not believe any of these rugs have survived in the lands where they would have been made, but given the size and shape and the modern yurt, it is not hard to see how that may have been the case.  Either way, I tend to trust that this could very well have meant woolen rugs, as Aston and the kanji themselves suggest, though I would understand if there was confusion or if it meant something else as wool was not exactly common in the archipelago at that time or in the centuries following. The last section of the regulations talks about the use of caps and belts.  The caps here were probably of continental origin:  The kanmuri, or official cap of state of the court nobles, or the more relaxed eboshi—though at this time, they were no doubt closely related. In fact, a year later, we have the most specific mention to-date of what people were actually wearing on their heads: there is a mention of men tying up their hair and wearing caps of varnished gauze.  Earlier caps related to the cap rank system are often thought to be something like a simple hemisphere  that was placed upon the head, with a bulbous top where the wearer's hair could be pulled up as in a bun. The kanmuri seems to have evolved from the soft black headcloth that was worn on the continent, which would have tied around the head, leaving two ends hanging down behind.  Hairstyles of the time often meant that men had a small bun or similar gathering of hair towards the back of their head, and tying a cloth around the head gave the effect of a small bump.  This is probably what we see in depictions of the early caps of state.  Sometimes this topknot could be covered with a small crown or other decoration, or wrapped with a cloth, often referred to as a "Tokin" in Japanese.  But over time we see the development of hardened forms to be worn under a hat to provide the appropriate silhouette, whether or not you actually had a topknot (possibly helpful for gentlemen suffering from hair loss).  And then the hat becomes less of a piece of cloth and more just a hat of black, lacquered gauze made on a form, which was much easier to wear.  At this point in the Chronicle, the cap was likely still somewhat malleable, and would made to tie or be pinned to that bun or queue of hair.  This explains the mention of men wearing their hair up.  This pin would become important for several different types of headgear, but ties were also used for those who did not have hair to hold the hat on properly. Two years after the edict on hats, we get another edict on clothing, further suggesting that the court were wearing Tang inspired clothing.  In 685 we see that individuals are given leave to wear their outer robe either open or tied closed. This is a clue that this outer robe might something akin to the round-necked hou that we see in the Tenjukoku Mandala, where the neck seems to close with a small tie or button.  However, we do see some examples, later, of v-necked garments with a tie in the center of the neck, so that may be the reference..  Opening the collar of the formal robes was somewhat akin to loosening a necktie, or unbuttoning the top button of a shirt.  It provided a more relaxed and comfortable feeling.  It could also be a boon in the warm days of summer.  Leaving it closed could create a more formal appearance. The courtiers also had the option of whether or not to wear the "Susotsuki", which Bentley translates as "skirt-band".  I believe this refers to the nai'i, or inner garment.  This would often have a pleated hem—a suso or ran—which would show below the main robe as just a slight hem.  Again, this is something that many would dispense with in the summer, or just when dressing a bit more casually, but it was required at court, as well as making sure that the tassles were tied so that they hung down.  This was the uniform of the court.  We are also told that they would have trousers that could be tied up, which sounds like later sashinuki, though it may have referred to something slightly different.  We are also given some regulations specifically for women, such as the fact that women over 40 years of age were allowed the discretion on whether or not to tie up their hair, as well as whether they would ride horses astride or side-saddle.  Presumably, younger women did not get a choice in the matter.  Female shrine attendants and functionaries were likewise given some leeway with their hairstyles. A year later, in 686, they do seem to have relaxed the hairstyles a bit more: women were allowed to let their hair down to their backs as they had before, so it seems that, for at least a couple of years, women under the age of 40 were expected to wear their hair tied up in one fashion or another. In that same edict, men were then allowed to wear "habakimo".  Aston translates this as "leggings" while Bentley suggests it is a "waist skirt".  There are an example of extant habakimo in the Shousouin, once again, and they appear to be wrappings for the lower leg.  It actually seems very closely related to the "kyahan" depicted all the way back in the 6th century painting of the Wo ambassador to Liang. Even though these edicts give a lot more references to clothing, there is still plenty that is missing.  It isn't like the Chroniclers were giving a red carpet style stitch-by-stitch critique of what was being worn at court.  Fortunately, there is a rather remarkable archaeological discovery from about this time. Takamatsuzuka is a kofun, or ancient burial mound, found in Asuka and dated to the late 7th or early 8th century.  Compared to the keyhole shaped tombs of previous centuries, this tomb is quite simple: a two-tiered circular tomb nestled in the quiet hills.  What makes it remarkable is that the inside of the stone burial chamber was elaborately painted.  There are depictions of the four guardian animals, as well as the sun and the moon, as well as common constellations.  More importantly, though, are the intricate pictures of men and women dressed in elaborate clothing. The burial chamber of Takamatsuzuka is rectangular in shape.  There are images on the four vertical sides as well as on the ceiling.  The chamber is oriented north-south, with genbu, the black tortoise, on the north wall and presumably Suzaku, the vermillion bird, on the south wall—though that had been broken at some point and it is hard to make out exactly what is there. The east and west walls are about three times as long as the north and south walls.  In the center of each is a guardian animal—byakko, the white tiger, on the west wall and seiryuu, the blue—or green—dragon on the east.  All of these images are faded, and since opening of the tomb have faded even more, so while photos can help, it may require a bit more investigation and some extrapolation to understand all of what we are looking at. On the northern side of both the east and west wall we see groups of four women.  We can make out green, yellow, and red or vermillion outer robes with thin fabric belt sashes, or obi, tied loosely and low around the waist.  There is another, lightly colored—possibly white, cream or pink—that is so faded it is hard to make out, and I don't know if that is the original color.  These are v-necked robes, with what appear to be ties at the bottom of the "v".  Around the belt-sash we see a strip of white peaking out from between the two sides of the robe—most likely showing the lining on an edge that has turned back slightly.  The cuffs of the robe are folded back, showing a contrasting color—either the sleeves of an underrobe or a lining of some kind.  Below the outer robe is a white, pleated hem—possibly a hirami or similar, though where we can make it out, it seems to be the same or similar color as the sleeves.  Under all of that, they then have a relatively simple mo, or pleated skirt.  The ones in the foreground are vertically striped in alternating white, green, red, and blue stripes.  There is one that may just be red and blue stripes, but I'm not sure.  In the background we see a dark blue—and possibly a dark green—mo.  At the base of each mo is a pleated fringe that appears to be connected to the bottom of the skirt.  The toe of a shoe seems to peek out from underneath in at least one instance.  They don't have any obvious hair ornaments, and their hair appears to be swept back and tied in such a way that it actually comes back up in the back, slightly.  They appear to be holding fans and something that might be a fly swatter—a pole with what looks like tassels on the end. In comparison, at the southern end of the tomb we have two groups of men.  These are much more damaged and harder to make out clearly.  They have robes of green, yellow, grey, blue, and what looks like dark blue, purple, or even black.  The neckline appears to be a v-necked, but tied closed, similar to what we see on the women.  We also see a contrasting color at the cuff, where it looks like the sleeves have turned back, slightly.  They have belt-sashes similar to the women, made of contrasting fabric to the robe itself.  Below that we see white trousers, or hakama, and shallow, black shoes.  On some of the others it is suggested that maybe they have a kind of woven sandal, but that is hard to make out in the current image.  On their heads are hats or headgear of black, stiffened—probably lacquered—gauze.  They have a bump in the back, which is probably the wearer's hair, and there is evidence of small ties on top and larger ties in the back, hanging down.  Some interpretations also show a couple with chin straps, as well, or at least a black cord that goes down to the chin.  They carry a variety of implements, suggesting they are attendants, with an umbrella, a folding chair, a pouch worn around the neck, a pole or cane of some kind, and a bag with some kind of long thing—possibly a sword or similar. The tomb was originally found by farmers in 1962, but wasn't fully examined until 1970, with an excavation starting in 1972.  The stone at the entryway was broken, probably from graverobbers, who are thought to have looted the tomb in the Kamakura period.  Fortunately, along with the bones of the deceased and a few scattered grave goods that the robbers must have missed, the murals also survived, and somehow they remained largely intact through the centuries.  They have not been entirely safe, and many of the images are damaged or faded, but you can still make out a remarkable amount of detail, which is extremely helpful in determining what clothing might have looked like at this time—assuming it is depicting local individuals. And there is the rub, since we don't know exactly whom the tomb was for.  Furthermore, in style it has been compared with Goguryeo tombs from the peninsula, much as nearby Kitora kofun is.  Kitora had images as well, but just of the guardian animals and the constellations, not of human figures. There are three theories as to who might have been buried at Takamatsuzuka.  One theory is that it was one of Ohoama's sons.  Prince Osakabe is one theory, based on the time of his death and his age.  Others have suggested Prince Takechi.  Based on the teeth of the deceased, they were probably in their 40s to 60s when they passed away. Some scholars believe that it may be a later, Nara period vassal—possibly, Isonokami no Maro.  That would certainly place it later than the Asuka period. The third theory is that it is the tomb of a member of one of the royal families from the Korean peninsula—possibly someone who had taken up refuge in the archipelago as Silla came to dominate the entire peninsula.  This last theory matches with the fact that Takamatsuzuka appears to be similar to tombs found in Goguryeo, though that could just have to do with where the tomb builders were coming from, or what they had learned. That does bring up the question of the figures in the tomb.  Were they contemporary figures, indicating people and dress of the court at the time, or were they meant to depict people from the continent?  Without any other examples, we may never know, but even if was indicative of continental styles, those were the very styles that Yamato was importing, so it may not matter, in the long run.     One other garment that isn't mentioned here is the hire, a scarf that is typically associated with women.  It is unclear if it has any relationship to the sashes we see in the Kofun period, though there is at least one mention of a woman with a hire during one of the campaigns on the Korean peninsula.  Later we see it depicted as a fairly gauzy piece of silk, that is worn somewhat like a shawl.  It is ubiquitous in Sui and Tang paintings of women, indicating a wide-ranging fashion trend.  The hire is a fairly simple piece of clothing, and yet it creates a very distinctive look which we certainly see, later. Finally, I want to take a moment to acknowledge that almost everything we have discussed here has to do with the elites of society—the nobles of the court.  For most people, working the land, we can assume that they were probably not immediately adopting the latest continental fashions, and they probably weren't dressing in silk very much.  Instead, it is likely that they continued to wear some version of the same outfits we see in the haniwa figures of the kofun period.  This goes along with the fact that even as the elite are moving into palaces built to stand well above the ground, we still have evidence of common people building and living in pit dwellings, as they had been for centuries.  This would eventually change, but overall they stuck around for quite some time.  However, farmers and common people are often ignored by various sources—they aren't often written about, they often aren't shown in paintings or statues, and they did often not get specialized burials.  Nonetheless, they were the most populous group in the archipelago, supporting all of the rest. And with that, I think we will stop for now.  Still plenty more to cover this reign.  We are definitely into the more historical period, where we have more faith in the dates—though we should remember that this is also one of the reigns that our sources were specifically designed to prop up, so we can't necessarily take everything without at least a hint of salt and speculation, even if the dates themselves are more likely to be accurate. 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.  

Queen Seondeok of Silla ruled her country with good will and fairness but her time as leader was not without challenges. In this story we hear about a time when a rival leader tried to take Queen Seondeok's throne by saying a falling star proves that she should not lead, and how the Queen got back at him by creating her OWN star the rose higher than anyone would have guessed. This podcast is a production of Rebel Girls. It's based on the book series Good Night Stories for Rebel Girls. This story was produced by Katie Sprenger with sound design and mixing by Mumble Media. It was written by Sonja Swanson and Sonja Thomas. Fact-checking by Joe Rhatigan. Narration by Mina Kim. Original theme music was composed and performed by Elettra Bargiacchi. Thank you to the whole Rebel Girls team who make this podcast possible. Stay rebel! [This episode originally aired in the app in July 2021.]