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

久しぶりにYayoiさんを迎えて、パトグラフィー（病跡学）ではなくサリュートグラフィーの試みを紹介していただき、「ゴールデンカムイ」「ゴーストアンドレディ」「デッドデッドデーモンズ・デデデデデストラクション」「チ。-地球の運動について」等について語りました。

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

Yayoi Komiyama has over 20 years of experience in the wellness industry. Her unique coaching approach, Brain to Belly, emphasizes the deep connection between the brain, body, and soul, enabling clients to achieve lasting change and peace.Yayoi's journey from personal struggles with food and body image to becoming a transformationspecialist serves as the foundation of her work. With expertise in neuroencoding, life transformation,and brain health, she empowers clients to shift their mindset and develop a more harmonious, sane, andjoyful relationship with food. Through her compassionate guidance, clients not only transform theirphysical appearance but also feel more empowered and magnificent in their true selves.Fun Facts:Yayoi is a huge Sci-Fi/Fantasy, Manga, and Anime fan. Come mid-October, she's fully immersed inthe world of NY Comic Con.• Facebook Group: Brain to Belly Facebook Group• Website: www.braintobellycoaching.com• YouTube: Brain to Belly YouTube ***********Susanne Mueller / www.susannemueller.biz TEDX Talk, May 2022: Running and Life: 5KM Formula for YOUR Successhttps://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oT_5Er1cLvY 700+ weekly blogs / 450+ podcasts / 1 Ironman Triathlon / 5 half ironman races / 26 marathon races / 3 books / 1 Mt. Kilimanjaro / 1 TEDx Talk

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

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

rWotD Episode 2747: Kobe City Museum Welcome to Random Wiki of the Day, your journey through Wikipedia’s vast and varied content, one random article at a time.The random article for Sunday, 10 November 2024 is Kobe City Museum.The Kobe City Museum (神戸市立博物館, Kōbe-shiritsu Hakubutsukan) opened in Kobe, Japan in 1982. It is one of Japan's many museums which are supported by a municipality.The museum resulted from the merger of the Municipal Archaeological Art Museum and Municipal Namban Art Museum. The museum is housed in a neoclassical building built in 1935: the former Kobe branch of the Yokohama Specie Bank. The collection of nearly thirty-nine thousand items comprises archaeological artifacts, works of art, old maps, and historical documents and artifacts relating to Kobe. It includes an important collection of Nanban art (the former Hajime Ikenaga Collection), as well as a set of dōtaku and other items of the Yayoi period from excavations at Sakuragaoka that have been designated a National Treasure.This recording reflects the Wikipedia text as of 00:27 UTC on Sunday, 10 November 2024.For the full current version of the article, see Kobe City Museum on Wikipedia.This podcast uses content from Wikipedia under the Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike License.Visit our archives at wikioftheday.com and subscribe to stay updated on new episodes.Follow us on Mastodon at @wikioftheday@masto.ai.Also check out Curmudgeon's Corner, a current events podcast.Until next time, I'm neural Gregory.

On this episode of the NMB48 podcast, we go over NMB's 14th anniversary concerts at Orix Theater and talk about all the big announcements that came out of that including Rei's graduation announcement, 9th gen promotions, the new stage, and more. We also give our updated thoughts on the 30th single Ganbaranuwai, talk about some SAD NEWS, and talk about this year's Good Spoon offerings. If you have a question or comment for the podcast, you can leave it in the comments section on Youtube, or email us at nmbtakoyaki.party@gmail.com Hang out with all the other international NMB fans on Discord! http://discord.gg/nmbfans  Subscribe to the podcast on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts at. You can find English subs for Idol Shikkaku on the Teppen Subs blog as well as other subbed NMB content. https://teppensubteam.tumblr.com/ 0:00 Intro 2:00 14th Anniversary Day 1 Highlights (Spark MV, Merumimi, 8,9,10th gen stage, new songs, Jonishi Rei grad announcement) 40:07 14th Anniversary Day 2 Highlights (9th gen promotions, Shiori Zoobook, Yuina Nara Tourism Ambassador, bstage global fan platform launch) 58:50 - Ganbaranuwai Music Video impressions, 1st week sales  1:09:25 - Tenshi no Utopia album event details announced 1:14:21 - Sakata Misaki and Tanaka Yukino go on hiatus 1:22:38 - Matsuno Mio announces graduation 1:39:05 - Chihhi and Yayoi are in some play in February next year 1:41:34 - NMB members at event promoting 6 months until Osaka Expo 1:46:35 - NMB members still doing blood drive events 1:47:45 - Good Spoon NMB Cafe Report 1:57:21 - Outro 

Manga by Amemiya, Kento   Exorcist manga didn't need to exor-exist We and our guest YouTuber Mugiwara discuss Shonen Jump manga Shadow Eliminators.    Show Notes: • You can reach us at Twitter @shonenflopcast, Tumblr shonen-flop, or email shonenflop@gmail.com   • You can find our guest at youtube.com/@Mugiwaranogoofy   • Help keep the show running by joining the Shonen Flop Patreon at patreon.com/shonenflop. Get perks like early access to episodes; joining us during recordings, and exclusive episodes on manga like Agravity Boys, Magu-chan: God of Destruction, and PPPPPP.   • Get Shonen Flop merch, including this episode's cover art, on a shirt, mug, print, or whatever else might catch your eye https://www.teepublic.com/stores/shonen-flop?ref_id=22733   • Become a member of our community by joining our Discord. You can hang out with us, submit your questions or six word summaries! Find it at https://discord.com/invite/4hC3SqRw8r   • Want to be a guest? You can ask to be on a future episode at bit.ly/shonen_flop_guest   Credits: • Shonen Flop is hosted by David Weinberger and Jordan Forbes   • Additional editing assistance by Dylan Krider you can find his podcast, Anime Out of Context at animeoutofcontext.com   • Assistance with pronunciation, translation, and other miscellaneous research done by Tucker Whatley and MaxyBee   • Episode art by Merliel (IG: mer_liel)   • Cover art funded by our generous art benefactor Nigel Francis   MAL Description:  Kasane are spirits who latch onto the shadows of people's hearts. But as long as Yayoi and Aoba are around, evil spirits won't be hurting any students at the school! Beautiful art and occult action! The door to the unknown has now been opened...  

Manga by Amemiya, Kento   This is pretty much Bleach, Dandadan, JuJutsu Kaisen, Persona 3, Phantom Seer…    David and Jordan give their first thoughts on Shonen Jump manga Shadow Eliminators. Listen in as they give an overview of the first chapter, where they think it will go from there, and ultimately their “power word” to describe the series so far. They also dive into some listener questions.    Show Notes: • You can reach us at Twitter @shonenflopcast or email us shonenflop@gmail.com   • Help keep the show running by joining the Shonen Flop Patreon at patreon.com/shonenflop. Get perks like early access to episodes; joining us during recordings, and exclusive episodes on manga like Agravity Boys, Magu-chan: God of Destruction, and PPPPPP.   • Become a member of our community by joining our Discord. You can hang out with us, submit your questions or six word summaries! Find it at https://discord.com/invite/4hC3SqRw8r   • Get Shonen Flop merch, including this episode's cover art, on a shirt, mug, print, or whatever else might catch your eye https://www.teepublic.com/stores/shonen-flop?ref_id=22733   • Want to be a guest? You can ask to be on a future episode at bit.ly/shonen_flop_guest   Credits:   • Shonen Flop is hosted by David Weinberger and Jordan Forbes   • Additional editing assistance by Dylan Crider you can find his podcast, Anime Out of Context at animeoutofcontext.com   • Episode art by Shannon (IG: illuminyatea)   MAL Description: Kasane are spirits who latch onto the shadows of people's hearts. But as long as Yayoi and Aoba are around, evil spirits won't be hurting any students at the school! Beautiful art and occult action! The door to the unknown has now been opened...

FREE Pastor Artur on his Sept 10th Appeal and FREE the Coutts 2 on Sept 9th! Let Them Hear You! FLOOD the PHONES 4 Freedom as they want to throw them all in Maximum Security Prison for 10 years on September 9th! *Canadian Crown Corporation Prosecutor Steven Johnston Call now

Dan Oke of the LakeShore Sovereign Assembly in Canada, an original member of all rallies and freedom convoys back to 2020, in 2022 formed one of the world's 1st Grand Juries leveraging Common Law to investigate, indict, and prosecute tyrannical justices, mayors, medical tyrants, and members of law enforcement and military who commit war crimes, joins Scotty Saks, Kim Yeater and Eddie Cornell of Veterans 4 Freedom to discuss their Take Our Border Back initiative.  Many unvaccinated, freedom-loving Canadians on the front lines still speaking out today have confirmed they had not seen Veterans 4 Freedom nor Police On Guard present during the horrific arrests of Pastor Artur Pawlowski and the Coutts 4 during Freedom Convoy in Alberta, nor in Ottawa, nor after the fact during the National Citizens Inquiry.  Dan claims on multiple occassions he and his organization reached out to Police On Guard with thousands of pages of evidence and it was never acted upon.  Will V4F, POG, and others stand up on Sept 9th, 13th, the 28th and 29th for what they claim to uphold? Join a conversation for We The People.  . ⚡️Laugh at the Rothschild's IRS minions by allocating your IRA or Savings to Silver or Gold Without Penalty ⬇️ Patriots GRAB a chance to score up to $10,000.00* or more in FREE SILVER

Learn about the growth and evolution of a small community group that is a force for change in Upstate New York—taking on issues from artificial turf to BYO campaigns, to Skip the Stuff legislation. It is this latter action that spurred Yayoi Koizumi, founder of Zero Waste Ithaca and co-founder of BYO-US Reduces, to contact Upstream for help in making the case for Skip the Stuff. Leveraging our powerful software tool, Chart-Reuse, we were able to crunch the numbers to create localized data and show that, for example, $32000 could be saved in waste hauling and 350 tons of trash prevented from landfills if foodservice businesses refrained from handing out unnecessary single-use utensils, napkins, straws, etc. Yayoi and guest host Cerise Bridges discuss the power of good data in influencing businesses and legislators—plus insights into the ongoing barriers and challenges in making change.Resources: Zero Waste IthacaCampaign against artificial turf at Cornell BYO-US ReducesChart-ReuseZero Waste ChefSkip the Stuff campaign materialsEpisode 160: From cafeteria to community: students launch reuseChart-Reuse Case Studies

This week, we have our first Footnote to the Revised Introduction to Japanese history, expanding on questions we didn't get to touch on during the main series. This week, our question is: what do we know about the origins and practice of early Japanese religion, and how does it relate to what we call Shinto today? Show notes here.  

In this episode of the Stuck In My Mind Podcast titled "Navigating Wellness: From Brain to Belly with Yayoi Komiyama," host Wize El Jefe is joined by Yayoi Komiyama, a coach, podcaster, and entrepreneur, who shares her expertise on holistic wellness and the brain to belly connection. Yayoi stresses the importance of finding a fitness routine that is both enjoyable and sustainable, tailored to individual preferences and needs. Throughout the episode, Yayoi's approach to wellness shines through as she emphasizes starting small and gradually increasing physical activity to build confidence and momentum. She shares her personal preference for working out at home due to hygiene concerns and highlights the need for setting clear goals and creating a roadmap to break free from unhealthy eating habits. In line with her coaching philosophy, Yayoi advocates for acknowledging the neutrality of food and the significance of choices and perspectives in food consumption. She shares her own journey of overcoming food and body image issues, which led her to become a coach and neural coding specialist to help others facing similar challenges. Yayoi's experience and expertise in neural encoding, which combines neuropsychology, NLP, and behavior modification, offer valuable insights into the brain to belly connection and its influence on our relationship with food and overall wellness. She delves into the concept of think, feel, do, have, highlighting the impact of negative self-perception on food choices and the crucial role of awareness in making healthier decisions. As the discussion unfolds, Yayoi and Wize El Jefe touch on the significance of honesty in one's relationship with food and the benefits of incorporating exercise into daily activities. Yayoi promotes multitasking and emphasizes tailoring fitness strategies to individual preferences rather than prescribing generic routines, acknowledging the diverse needs of her clients. The episode also provides a glimpse into Yayoi's personal experiences, from battling hives to undergoing a detox to become more conscious of the chemicals in food and their effects on the body. Moreover, Yayoi's uplifting "I am" statement exercise, aimed at boosting self-belief and positivity, offers a practical tool for listeners to cultivate a growth mindset for achieving lasting change and wellness habits. Wize El Jefe and Yayoi engage in conversations about the impact of the pandemic on eating habits, the rising cost of food, and the importance of networking and creating ripples in the podcasting journey. Yayoi's insights and experiences, combined with Wize El Jefe's personal anecdotes, make for a thought-provoking and informative episode that resonates with those seeking to navigate their own wellness journey. Listeners are left with actionable advice, a deeper understanding of the brain to belly connection, and the encouragement to embrace honesty, self-awareness, and tailored wellness approaches. Yayoi's engaging presence, combined with the candid dialogue between the host and the guest, makes this episode a valuable resource for anyone on the path to holistic wellness and balanced living. As the episode draws to a close, Wize El Jefe expresses gratitude to the guest and audience for their support and engagement, wrapping up the show with shoutouts and appreciation for essential workers. Yayoi leaves the audience with a powerful message about the importance of being aware of what one eats and enjoying food in moderation, encapsulating the essence of her approach to wellness. In conclusion, "From Brain to Belly: Navigating Wellness with Yayoi Komiyama" offers a rich tapestry of insights, personal experiences, and practical tips, making it a must-listen for anyone seeking a holistic approach to wellness, mindful eating, and sustainable fitness routines. With the combination of Yayoi's expertise and Wize El Jefe's warm hosting, this episode leaves a lasting impact on listeners, empowering them to embrace balanced living and tailored wellness strategies.

Hui Mo‘olelo #35: Gensho & Yayoi Hara Recorded Jul 30, 2024 in Wailuku, HI The goal of the Hui Mo‘olelo: Lahaina program is to capture an authentic moment of connection through stories that are embedded in a Lahaina sense of place. As participants complete our immersive storytelling workshop, each are paired with kūpuna to engage in an audio-recorded talk-story that captures these connective moments. These recordings become the basis for annual requests for proposals to interpret as a work of public art in collaboration with Maui community members. Proposals are selected by a community panel, followed by an intensive learning and cultural exchange that is rooted in specific places throughout Maui County. Representing a wide range of special places and stories, the collection is available for your research, enjoyment, memory or inspiration at https://www.mauipublicart.org/hui-moolelo.html. Please enjoy.

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

ジェニのピカピカ日本語へようこそ。 今日も弥生と鈴夏のアニメソングについてのお話しの続きです。 今日は「スパイファミリー」のアニメソングについて鈴夏が話します。 お楽しみください。 Welcome to Jenni's Pika Pika Japanese. Today we continue our discussion about Yayoi and Suzunatsu's anime songs. Today Suzika will talk about the animated song “Spy Family”. Enjoy! Bienvenidos al Pika Pika japonés de Jenni. Hoy continuamos con la historia de Yayoi y Suzunatsu sobre canciones de anime. Hoy Suzika nos habla de la canción animada 'Spy Family'. Disfrutad.

ジェニのピカピカ日本語へようこそ。 今日は弥生と鈴夏が日本で人気のアニメソングについてのお話しの続きです。 お楽しみください。 Welcome to Jeni's Pika Pika Japanese. Today we continue with Yayoi and Suzuka's story about popular anime songs in Japan. Enjoy! Bienvenidos a Pika Pika Japonés de Jenni. Hoy continuamos con la historia de Yayoi y Suzuka sobre canciones populares de anime en Japón. Que lo disfrutéis.

こんにちは。 ジェニのピカピカ日本語へようこそ。 今日は弥生が、日本の夏の風物詩をご紹介します。 「流しそうめん」「蚊取り線香」 などなど、あなたは知っていますか？ 7月29日月曜日のウェブカフェで日本語で話しあいましょう。 ご参加ください。 https://tinyurl.com/2ddpzqlg では、またね。 Hello. Welcome to Jenni's Pika Pika Japanese. Today, Yayoi will introduce some Japanese summer traditions. Nagashi Somen", "Mosquito Coils" etc. Do you know them? Let's talk about them in Japanese at the Web Cafe on Monday, July 29th. Please join us. https://tinyurl.com/2ddpzqlg See you soon. Hola. Bienvenidos a Pika Pika Japonés de Jenni. Hoy, Yayoi presentará algunas tradiciones japonesas de verano. Nagashi Somen, Mosquito Coils. etc. ¿Las conoces? Hablemos de ellas en japonés en el webcafé el lunes 29 de julio. Por favor, únete a nosotros. https://tinyurl.com/2ddpzqlg Hasta luego.

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

Moving on with our third part of the Gishiwajinden Tour, we head to the old area of Matsuro, which, for us, means modern Karatsu.  Here we have some of the oldest rice paddies in all of Japan, but Karatsu is so much more.  It was part of Matsura, where the Matsura family (aka league, factions, or pirates, depending on how you saw it) arose.  It is also a short hop from Nagoya, which briefly became the capital of Japan; Nagaoka-kyo gets a mention in the histories, but Nagoya rarely merits it, since it was just the Taiko and every actually important person minus the Tenno. For more photos and others such things, check out: https://www.sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/matsuro-koku/   Rough Transcript: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Gishiwajinden Tour, Part Four:  Matsuro-koku So far on this tour through the locations listed in the Weizhi's Wa Record, the Gishiwajinden, following the route to Queen Himiko of Wa, we've hit the area of Gaya, or Gara; Tsushima—or Tuma-koku; Iki, aka Iki-koku; and now we are arriving at Karatsu, thought to be the location of Maturo-koku. Now before we go any further, let's talk about the name.  After all, up to this point in the account, the names haven't been too far off.  Well, Tsushima was recorded as something like Tuma in the Chinese record, which seems reasonable, and “Iki” was actually recorded as something like “I-dai”, though we are pretty sure that was a transcription error based on other evidence. But Karatsu and Maturo, really don't seem related.  Also, didn't we earlier equate Matsuro with Matsuura, Matsura?  But if you look for Matsuura on a map it is quite some distance away from Karatsu—in fact, it is in modern Nagasaki prefecture as opposed to Karatsu, which is in modern Saga prefecture. First off, Karatsu is a later name for the city, not the area.  It literally means “Tang Port”, and that name seems to appear in the 15th century in the form of Karatsu Jinja, or Karatsu Shrine.  So no, the names Karatsu and Matsuro are not related.  Prior to being called Karatsu, though, it was part of a larger area called Matsura.  It sits at the head of the Matsura River, which spills out into what is now called Karatsu Bay.  In ancient times this seems to have been the heart of the area known as Matsura or Matsuro.  Over time it was incorporated into the larger area known as Hi no Kuni, and when Hi no Kuni was divided up by the Ritsuryo state into Hizen and Higo, we see the Matsura district, or Matsura-gun, is a part, along the coast.  The fact that it is spelled as “Matsu” and “Ura”, meaning “pine beach”, might hint at the original name of the place or could be a false etymology, imposed by the need to record the location in kanji, the Sinitic characters used at the time.  Fun fact time:  Hizen refers to the area of the land of Hi that was closer to Yamato, while Higo refers to the area of the land of Hi that was further away.  If you look at a modern map of where these two ancient provinces were, however, you'll notice that by a slight technicality, Higo is actually closer, as the crow flies.  But remember, people are not crows, at least not in this life, and in all likelihood, most of the travel to and from Yamato would have been via sea routes.  So Hizen is closer to Yamato from that perspective, as you would have to sail from Higo, around Hizen, or take the long way south around Kagoshima. But where were we? So Matsura district in Hizen started at Matsura-gawa and the area around Karatsu bay, and included modern areas of Hirado all the way out to the Goto islands.  That was a pretty large area.  It later got further subdivided into East, West, North, and South Matsura subdistricts, with Karatsu in the Eastern subdistrict, and some portion of the west.  Eventually, Karatsu city became its own administrative district, in modern Saga prefecture, and so did Hirado city, in what was the old Northern Matsura sub-district, joining Nagasaki prefecture.  The western sub-district went to Karatsu or incorporated as Imari, known for their Imari-ware pottery.  And that left a small portion of the northern sub-district. The incorporated villages and islands eventually came together as Matsuura city, in Nagasaki prefecture, which is what you'll see, today.  And that is why, looking at a modern map, “Matsura” and modern “Matsuura” are not precisely in the same place. That history also helps demonstrate the historical connections between Karatsu, Hirado, Iki, and Tsushima—as well as the Goto islands.  This region was where the Matsura clan arose, which controlled at least out to Iki, Hirado, and the Goto archipelago, and it was known for its strong navy, among other things. For our trip, heading to Karatsu was originally borne out of convenience:  Our goal was to take the ferry so that we could travel along the ocean routes.  We had traveled the route from Izuhara, on Tsushima, to Ashibe port, on Iki island.  During that trip it was interesting to watch as Tsushima disappeared and then eventually Iki appeared on the horizon, but it wasn't immediate, and I suspect you would have wanted an experienced crew who knew the route and knew what to look for.  Conversely, from Indoji port, on Iki, to Karatsu I felt like we were constantly in sight of one island or another, or at least could see the mountains of Kyushu to get our bearings.  There wasn't really a time that felt like we were that far out from land.  Even so, it would still have been a treacherous crossing back in the day. Coming in to Karatsu from the ferry, the first thing you will notice is the castle.  Karatsu castle, also known as Maizuru Castle, is a reconstructed castle, but it really does provide a clear view of what one would have seen.  The original was abandoned in the Meiji period and sold off in 1871.  The main keep was later demolished and made into a park.  In 1966 they built a new, 5-storey keep on the original base, and from 1989 onward have continued to make improvements to various parts of the castle moats and walls.  You can still see the layout of the Ninomaru and honmaru sections of the castle, encompassing the old samurai districts of the jokamachi, or castle town, of Karatsu during the Edo period. Our primary goal in Karatsu, however, was not castle focused.  We wanted to go back to an earlier time – the Yayoi period, to be precise - and Karatsu and the Matsuro-kan did not disappoint.  While not quite as extensive as the reconstruction at other Yayoi sites like Harunotsuji or Yoshinogari, the site at the Matsuro-kan is still impressive in its own right. What is the Matsuro-kan, you might ask?  It is the building and grounds of what is also known as the Nabatake site.  In 1980, construction workers were excavating for a road through the Nabatake section of Karatsu when they noticed they were pulling up artifacts.  An investigation between 1980 to 1981 determined that the artifacts were from the late Jomon to middle Yayoi period.  Further investigation discovered the presence of old rice paddies.  In 1983 the site was designated as a national historic site, further excavations were carried out, and the Matsurokan was built to house the artifacts and also provide some reconstructions of what the rice paddies would have looked like.  For context these are some of the oldest rice paddies found in Japan, along with the nearby Itazuke rice paddies, in neighboring Fukuoka prefecture, and are key for giving us insights into what we know about early rice field cultivation. Here I should point out that these fields were in use through the middle Yayoi period, while the mission to Yamato—or Yamatai—recorded in the Weizhi would have been in the late Yayoi or early Kofun period, so likely several hundred years later.  There are other Yayoi settlement remains found up and around the peninsula, and there are Kofun in the area, especially along the banks of the Matsura river.  Given how built up much of the area is, it is possible that any large scale settlement may have been destroyed by subsequent settlements, or is somewhere that there just hasn't been a good reason for a full excavation.  Still, who knows what we might eventually find.    The Matsurokan appears to stick with the dating of the Yayoi period from about 300 BCE.  This is based largely on assumptions regarding the development of different pottery styles.  Recent research has suggested that this should be pushed back to about 800 or even 1000 BCE, suggesting a more gradual development.  For our purposes, it is enough to note that this site appears to cover from the final Jomon era in Kyushu to the coming of wet rice agriculture with the advancing Yayoi culture. Based on what was found at the site, the wet rice paddies were created in what at least one scholar has suggested as a “primitive” wet rice paddy.  The paddies themselves appear to have been placed in a naturally swampy area, irrigated by a natural stream.  This would have made flooding the fields relatively simple, without the large ponds or waterworks required to cover a more extensive area.  This may have sufficed for a small village, possibly only a handful of families living together and working the land. Besides the impressions of the paddies themselves, various tools, pottery, and more were also found at the site.  Stone harvesting knives were plentiful—a semicircular stone knife that was held in the fingers of one hand, allowing a harvester to grasp the stalks and cut them quickly.  This was the standard method of harvesting prior to the arrival of the sickle, or kama, and is still in use in some parts of China and Southeast Asia.  It is more labor intensive than the sickle, but provides some benefits in the consistency and lack of waste product. The Matsurokan demonstrates how a lot of the Yayoi tools are, in fact, still in use in one form or another in different cultures that also absorbed rice cultivation, showing how widespread it became. In addition, there are artifacts such as shards of pottery showing what looks to be the imprint of a woven fabric, and various equipment for weaving and sewing.  We have some beams and posts from buildings, which give us something at least try to guess at how things were put together. There are bones of various animals as well as stone arrowheads.  There are also fish and even dugong bones, suggesting they also made a living from the nearby sea.  And there are various bits of jewelry, including magatama, and what appears to be a shark's tooth with holes drilled in so it could be worn on a cord.    There are also carbonized rice grains found at the site, likely grown there. We don't have any ancient strains of rice that can be proven to come from these fields, but in their reconstruction, outside the museum, they have rebuilt some of the rice fields and grow old rice variants in them.  This is used, in part, to teach local schoolchildren about rice cultivation – in fact, local schools are allocated individual paddies each growing season. Besides the rice paddies, the Matsurokan also boasts several reconstructed dwellings.  These are similar to ones you might find elsewhere depicting what life was like back in the Yayoi period. As the Yayoi period gave way to the kofun, we do see some mounded tombs in the area, though not quite as many as in others.  Matsura appears to be rather rural. Around the Heian period, we see the rise of a local group that comes to be known as the Matsura group, or Matsura-tou, which eventually consolidated into the Matsura family.  There are several lineages claiming that the Matsura family descended from the Minamoto or Abe clans or through branch families thereof.  Matsura-to itself is sometimes called the 48 factions of Matsura.  It wasn't as much a family as an alliance of local warriors, each with their own base of operations.  I can't quite tell if the lineage of the later Matsura clan, as they were known, were meant to represent a single lineage or the various lineages that came together.  For all we know, they may have married into official families or otherwise concocted lineages to help legitimize them as much as anything else—this far out from the center, in the 11th century, there wasn't necessarily as much oversight. Early in the 11th century they also had a chance to prove themselves with the Toi invasion – that was the Jurchen invasion we mentioned last couple episodes.  After the Toi invaders attacked Tsushima and Iki, they set their sites on Hakata Bay, which was the closest landing to the Dazaifu, the Yamato government in Kyushu.  They were chased off and headed down the coast.  Minamoto Tomo is said to have led the forces that repelled the Toi invaders, who finally departed altogether, striking one more time on Tsushima before heading back to wherever they came from. Minamoto Tomo is said, at least in some stories, to have been the founder of the Matsura clan, or at least the leader of the 48 factions, which then coalesced into the Matsura clan, which eventually would run the Hirado domain. Over two hundred and fifty years after the Toi Invasion would come the Mongols.  If the Toi were bad, the Mongols were much worse.  The Toi were a band of marauders, who caused a lot of havoc, but do not appear to have had state backing.  The Mongols were perhaps more appropriately the Yuan empire, who had already conquered the Yellow river valley and were working on the Song dynasty along the Yangzi.  While the Toi had brought with them Goryeo warriors as well—who may or may not have joined up willingly—the Mongols had huge armies from all over that they could throw at a problem. As we talked about in the past two episodes, the Mongols swept through Tsushima and Iki and then headed straight for Hakata, the closest landing zone to the Dazaifu, the government outpost in Kyushu.  Even during the height of the Kamakura shogunate, this was still an important administrative center, and would have given the Mongols a huge advantage on holding territory and eventually sweeping up the archipelago. Fortunately, they were stopped.  Whether it was the gumption, skill, and downright stubbornness of their samurai foes or the divine wind that swept up from the ocean, the Mongols were turned back, twice. During each of these invasions, the Matsura clan and others rushed to the defense of the nation, but unlike with the Toi invasions, there do not appear to have been any serious battles along the Matsuura coastline—not that I can make out, anyway. After the Mongol invasion, Kyushu was not left out of the troubles that would follow, including the downfall of the Hojo, the rise of the Ashikaga, and the eventual breakdown of the shogunal system into the period known as the Warring States period.  Through it all the Matsura continued to ply the seas and encourage the trade from which they and others, like the Sou of Tsushima, came to depend on.  They also allied with other entrepreneurial seafarers, known to others as pirates, and they started trading with a group of weird looking people with hairy beards and pale skin, who came to be known as the Nanban, the southern barbarians—known to us, primarily, as the Portuguese. One faction of the Matsura were the Hata—no relation to the Hata that set up in what would become the Kyoto region in the early periods of Yamato state formation.  The Hata ruled the area that would become Karatsu, but eventually they were taken over by the Ryuzoji, who were allied with Toyotomi Hideyoshi. Hideyoshi's interest in the Karatsu and Matsura area had to do with its easy access to the continent.  And so Hideyoshi began to pay attention to Nagoya, at the end of the peninsula down from Karatsu.  And no, not *that* Nagoya.  If you hear Nagoya, today, you are probably talking about the bustling metropolis in Aichi, which was where Toyotomi himself got his start, growing up and going to work for the local warlord, named Oda Nobunaga.  Due to a quirk of Japanese names and how they read particular characters, this is a different Nagoya. The Kyushu Nagoya had been one of the Matsura trading posts, run by a sub-branch of the Hata family, who had built a castle on the site.  Hideyoshi had much grander plans for the area.  In 1591 he began work on a massive castle and associated castle town.  This castle was to be his new headquarters, and he moved his entire retinue there from Osaka, with an expectation that all of the daimyo would follow him.  Sure enough, they showed up with their own vassals, setting up camps around the peninsula and in the new city-to-be. The castle was the base of operations from which Hideyoshi coordinated the invasions of Korea.  It was a massive undertaking, and extremely impressive.  The city itself sprung up, and although the wood was still new, and the buildings somewhat hastily put together, it was soon a bustling metropolis and briefly became the center of art and culture in the entire archipelago. Hideyoshi himself had a teahouse built within the confines of the castle, where he apparently spent most of his days, even when receiving reports on how things were going across the sea on the archipelago.  The city had a Noh theater, as well.  It must have been a sight to see. As for the castle itself, based on the remains, it was massive.  It appears to use the contours of the hill upon which it sits.  It seems there was a previous castle there of some kind, and it is unclear how much this was merely expanded, but Hideyoshi's new castle was truly monumental, with a labyrinth of gates to get in -- similar  to Himeji Castle, for anyone who has been there, but with a serious vertical incline as well.  Nagoya Castle was second only to Osaka castle, and yet it was erected quickly—only 8 months.  I guess that's what you can do when you can mobilize all of the daimyo across Japan.  Even today, ruined as it is, the walls tower over you, and you can spend hours wandering the grounds. For all that it was impressive, the good times at Nagoya Castle lasted only for a brief seven years—when Hideyoshi passed away, the council of regents moved back to Osaka, and Nagoya castle was deliberately destroyed, stones removed from the walls such that it could never survive a true siege. This was a sign to the Korean peninsula – the Joseon court - that, with the death of the taiko, Japan had given up any pretext of conquering the peninsula. Today, only the stones and earthworks remain of the briefly thriving city, but on the grounds is a wonderful museum that catalogs this particular slice of Medieval life.  The Nagoya Castle Museum of Saga prefecture is off the beaten path—there is no train, so you'll need to take a bus or private car to get there—but it is well worth it. The museum itself is dedicated to Japanese and Korean cross-strait relations, which feels a bit like atonement given that the castle was built with conquest in mind. Of course, the centerpiece of the Museum is the castle, but it also does a good job telling the story of relations between the peninsula and the archipelago.  It starts in the ancient times, talking about how, even during the Jomon period, there were commonalities in fishhooks and similar equipment found from Kyushu up through the Korean peninsula.  From there, of course, trade continued, as we've seen in our journey through the Chronicles.  It talks about some of the shared cultural items found from the Yayoi through the Kofun, and also demonstrates how some of the earliest Buddhist statues have clear similarities to those found in Silla.  It goes over the various missions back and forth, and even gives a map of the Toi Invasion that we talked about hitting Tsushima and Iki. The Mongol invasion is also heavily talked about, but not nearly so much as the invasion of Korea.  There is another reproduction of the letter of King Sejeong, with the faked seal from the Sou clan in Tsushima.  This of course, was the period when they built Nagoya-jo into a castle and city of at least 100,000 people, almost overnight.  Even the Nanban were there, trading in the city while supplies from across the country were gathered and shipped off to keep troops fed on the invasion of Korea. There are plenty of images from this time—from a Ming envoy to Nagoya castle to images of the invasion from the Korean perspective, with Koreanized samurai manning the walls of the castles they had taken.  They don't exactly lionize the samurai, but they don't accentuate some of the more horrific things, either, like the piles of ears taken from those killed because taking their heads, as was standard practice in older days, was too cumbersome. There is also some discussion of relations afterwards—of the Joseon embassies, though those went through Hakata, Nagoya-jo having long been abandoned at that point.  For reasons one can probably understand, it doesn't go into the post-Edo relations, as that is much more modern history. After the destruction of Nagoya castle, the area was largely abandoned, but the city of Karatsu proper really thrived during the Edo period.  Karatsu was also a castle town, as we've mentioned, but a bit out of the way.  As sailing ships were now more sturdy and able to handle longer sea crossings, it was now often Hakata, in Fukuoka, that received much of the trade, and the Dutch traders who had replaced the Portuguese, were limited to Dejima, in Nagasaki. When Hideyoshi swept through, the Hata were not exactly considered trustworthy, and were placed under the Nabeshima, a branch of their rivals, the Ryuzouji.  During the invasion of Korea, the Hata rebelled, and were destroyed for it in 1593.  Their territory was given to Terazawa Hirotaka, who had been put in charge of the construction of Nagoya castle and later put in charge of the logistics for the invasion effort from the Kyushu side.  As a result, he was granted the lands formerly controlled by the Hata, including Karatsu, and what would become the Karatsu domain. Hirotaka could see which way the wind blew—in more ways than one.  After Hideyoshi's death, he supported Tokugawa Ieyasu, allowing him to keep and even expand his fief.  He redirected the Matsura river—then known as the Hata river—to its present course, and he built a pine grove along the northern beach that is the third largest such grove in all of Japan.  Known as the “Niji no Matsubara”, or the ”Rainbow Pine Forest” for its shape, it was erected as a windbreak to protect the precious farmland just on the other side.  It is still there today, still managed, and quite famous.  You can drive through the pine trees or stop and walk through them, even out to the beach.   And there is even a fantastic burger truck that parks along the main road through the pine grove, so you can enjoy a lovely picnic among the trees. The Terazawa would not remain in place for very long.  During the Shimabara rebellion of the early 17th century—a rebellion based on either taxes or Christianity, depending on whom you ask—the Terazawa line was extinguished.  Terazawa Katataka, then ruler of the Karatsu domain, was held liable for mismanagement of the domain and loss of a castle to the rebels.  He had land confiscated and he felt publicly humiliated, and so he took his own life while he was in Edo.  As he had no heir, the Terazawa line died out. Karatsu domain went through a variety of hands after that.  Its value fluctuated, but it is generally thought that the real value of the domain, thanks to the ability to trade, was well beyond what it was assessed to produce.  As such it was a lucrative position, and also held sway as a check against Nagasaki, watching the trade there with the Dutch merchants.  Because of all of this, the lord of Karatsu was also banned from holding certain government positions, so as not to distract from their duties, making the position something of a blessing and a curse. Through the years, Karatsu thrived.  They were and are still known for a type of traditional pottery, known as Karatsumono, or Karatsuware, and they maintain elaborate festivals.  One of the festivals, the Karatsu Kunchi, is considered a UNESCO Intangible Cultural Heritage.The Karatsu Kunchi is an annual parade where neighborhood associations carry giant floats through the city from Karatsu Shrine down to the shore.  It was inspired, in the early 19th century, by the famous Gion Matsuri of Kyoto—a wealthy merchant saw that and donated the first lion-head float to Karatsu Shrine.  Later, others would create their own floats. These floats, known as “Hikiyama” or “pulled mountains” can be five or six meters high and weigh anywhere from two to five tons.  There appear to be 14 hikiyama, currently, though there used to be 15—a black lion is currently missing.  The floats have gone through a few iterations, but are largely the same, and often have some relationship to the neighborhoods sponsoring them. From Matsura, aka Matsuro-koku, we went north along the coast of Kyushu to Itoshima, thought to the be old country of Ito-koku, and beyond that, the Na-koku of Fukuoka.  We'll cover both of those in our next and final installment of our Gishiwajinden tour. If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to us at our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

こんにちは。 ジェニのピカピカ日本語へようこそ。 今日は、前回の鈴夏と弥生のドラマのお話の最終回です。 「不適切にも程がある」というドラマは日本の昭和時代と令和時代の対比が見られて楽しいなど、日本の生活が見られるようです。 お楽しください。 Hello. Welcome to Jenni's Pika Pika Japanese. Today is the final installment of our previous drama story about Suzuka and Yayoi. The drama, "Inappropriate is Not Enough," is a fun way to see the contrast between the Showa and 2025 eras in Japan and other aspects of Japanese life. Please enjoy it. Hola. Bienvenidos a Jenni's Pika Pika Japanese. Hoy es el último episodio de nuestro drama anterior sobre Suzuka y Yayoi. El drama "Inapropiado no es lo suficientemente bueno" es una forma divertida de ver el contraste entre las eras Showa y 2025 en Japón y otros aspectos de la vida japonesa. Disfrútalo.

This is Part 3 of our Gishiwajinden Tour--following the route of the Wei embassy through the land of Wa and looking at the various locations along the way.  So far we've looked at the old land of Gaya, as represented at Gimhae, the site of the old Geumgwan Gaya, and the island of Tsushima, on the border.  This episode we look at the next island:  Iki. It might be easy to overlook Iki--it was neither the center nor exactly the periphery.  From the point of view of those in the court or those outside it was rather "mid", in a literal sense.  However, it was certainly at the center of its own vibrant history, which was certainly important to everyone there, and hosted a thriving community. It is also a great place to visit in the modern day: something of a hidden gem for anyone looking for a slightly more out of the way place to visit, with a slower pace than cities like Tokyo. For more, see our blog page:  https://www.sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/iki-koku Rough Translation: Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Gishiwajinden Tour Part 3: Iki-koku. As regular listeners know, we are currently taking a break from the Chronicles.  With the Isshi Incident of 645—see Episode 107—we are about to get into the time known as “Taika” or “Great Change”.  Spoiler alert: This is the rise of Naka no Oe, aka Tenji Tennou; Nakatomi Kamako, aka Nakatomi Kamatari, the progenitor of the Fujiwara family; and more.  It is the beginning of what is known as the Ritsuryo System, the idea of a state governed by laws and punishments similar to what we see on the continent, based largely on Confucian principles, but mixed with a healthy dose of local tradition.  There is a lot there, and I want to do it justice.  And so for now I have a little bonus content for you. Earlier this year, Ellen and I took a trip based on the account in the Gishiwajinden, the Wa section of the Weizhi, the section in the Wei Chronicles regarding the trip to visit Queen Himiko of Wa.  In Part 1 we talked about our trip to Gimhae, formerly known as Geumgwan Gaya, a part of the old Gaya—or Kara—confederacy, with close ties to the archipelago.  Part 2 we talked about our next stop, the island of Tsushima.  But we didn't just talk about it in the 3rd century, because if you visit there is so much more to see from an historical perspective. This episode we are talking about the island of Iki, aka Ikijima, though in the Weizhi it is known as its own country:  Iki-koku. Relative to Tsushima, Iki island is much smaller—about one fifth the overall landmass.  However, it is much flatter as well—the highest point is only 212 meters above sea level, compared to Tsushima, which rises to about 649 meters at Mt. Yatate.  This makes Iki an island with a lot of flat land or rolling hills—perfect for the kind of wet rice paddy agriculture that created the population boom in the Yayoi period, which we will talk about here in a minute.  However, I will note that even today the population of Iki is similar to that of Tsushima despite having much less space. The flora and fauna of the island is much closer to that of the rest of the archipelago—in fact, it is nearly identical to what you would find in southwest Kyushu.  This is not surprising given how close it is.  For reference, Hitakatsu, on Tsushima is under 50km from Busan, Korea, and about 147 km to Hakata port in Fukuoka, or 138 km if you depart from Izuhara port instead.  Comparatively, it is about 76 km from Hakata to Iki, and even less—just about 42km—from Iki to Karatsu, south of Fukuoka, and these routes are dotted with islands along the way.  At its closest point, Iki is probably only 20km from Kyushu, but the ferries only stop at certain ports.  Tsushima to Iki, on the other hand, is around 68 km, from Izuhara to Iki.  Iki is about as close to Karatsu as Tsushima is to Pusan, and they are both further away from each other than from their respective larger landmasses.  That makes this leg – Tsushima to Iki - the longest leg in the trip, realistically. Today, both Iki and Tsushima, along with the Goto islands to the south, are all part of Nagasaki prefecture, despite the fact that they are both closer to Saga and Fukuoka prefectures.  This is in part because Iki came under the jurisdiction of the Hirado domain, which also was heavily involved with foreign trade through Nagasaki. Today, Iki is broken up into roughly four areas.  This includes Katsumoto, Ashibe, Indoji, and Gonoura, based around the four main port towns on the island.  Three of these ports, Ashibe, Indoji, and Gonoura, have ferries that regularly travel to either Tsushima or Kyushu. And all of them have various boats to take people out the islands around Iki, one of the major draws for many people coming to the island being to see the natural beauty of its coastline and surrounding waters.  There is also a small airport. Although Iki is small—you can drive from one end to the other in 40 minutes or less—I highly recommend renting a car, much like Tsushima.  This will be helpful to get to various sites, although be aware that while the main roads are well cared for, there are plenty of roads where it is better to go on foot rather than get stopped by fallen trees and branches in a less well maintained area.  Taxis can be had, but aren't always convenient, and that adds cost and time.  A car will give you much more freedom to get around. Iki is a popular tourist destination, with more people coming during the summer months.  We were there in the off-season, which was somewhat nice, but also meant that many restaurants and the like were closed.  Also, similar to Tsushima, there isn't a konbini—a convenience store—on every street corner.  You can certainly find them, but just be aware.  That said, we never really had a problem finding what we needed. Iki is known for several things.  One, perhaps unsurprisingly, is the squid, and you can see the squid boats in the harbor or out at night.  They have arrays of lights set up, to help draw the squid to the surface, a common technique around the world that makes squid fishing quite distinctive. In addition, Iki island is quite proud of its beef, a much more recent addition.  The flat land allows them to raise cattle, and the Iki raised wagyu cattle, known as Iki-gyu, is highly prized.  You can find several yakiniku restaurants around the island, that particular Japanese style of Korean barbecue where you grill up thinly sliced beef on a hot skillet or even an open grill at your table. An older product is the barley shochu.  Iki island is said to be the birthplace of barley shochu, developing it in the 17th century.  Back then, taxes from the island had to be paid in rice, and there wasn't enough left to make much alcohol, such as traditional sake.  As such, the local farmers started using barley and koji, instead, to make the base alcohol that they then distilled into shochu.  Shochu itself goes back to at least the 16th century, as distilling techniques reached southern Japan via either the Ryukyu kingdom or via the Korean peninsula—records are unclear, as these techniques reached both places before Japan, and Kyushu had connections to each.  That said, early shochu was made with rice, and later it would be made with cheaper ingredients, such as barley, in the case of Iki, or sweet potato, in Satsuma, modern Kagoshima.  These methods spread to other parts of Japan. There are plenty of other food options available on the island as well, and I don't think we had a bad meal anywhere we went. And so we left Izuhara port, on Tsushima, early in the morning and arrived at Ashibe port around lunchtime.  We had arranged a car to meet us at the port, and after grabbing a bite at a locally renowned yakinikuya, we decided to start getting our historical bearings on the island.   Our main objective on Iki island was to see the Yayoi site of Harunotsuji and the Iki-koku Museum, the museum of the country of Iki. Quick note for anyone looking this up:  The “Haru” in “Harunotsuji” is typically pronounced “Hara” outside of Kyushu and Okinawa.  This affects a lot of placenames in Kyushu, including Iki, and likely comes from remnants of an old dialect of Japanese spoken in this area.  Whatever the reason, if you look up the site in Japanese you may want to type “Hara-no-tsuji” to help find the right kanji. Harunotsuji site is an incredible find in regards to the Yayoi period.  It was a large settlement built on flat land in the interior of the island.  Today it is surrounded by rice fields, and fortunately nobody else seems to have built up on the raised hills where the settlement once stood, allowing the site to remain for us to find years later.  This is one of the better preserved sites from the Yayoi period, and is often touted as the likely center of activity in Iki during that period.  Of course, as with other sites, like Yoshinogari, we can only see those sites  that were preserved—those that were built upon in later generations may not have left any trace.  However, in this case there's clear evidence that there was a thriving community here.  And because of that, and the tremendous effort they've put into reconstructing the site, as well as the excellent museum, we wanted to make sure that we gave Iki a visit. There aren't many museums on Iki island, but the Iki-koku museum ranks up there with some of the best we've visited.  The building itself is built to blend into the landscape, and from the observation tower you can look out over the Harunotsuji site.  The museum provides an automated introduction to the area, with a small film depicting what they believe life was probably like back in the Yayoi period.  From there you travel down a hallway that takes you through the history of Iki, but eventually deposits you in a room focused on the Yayoi period.  Here they show a reconstructed boat, as well as a large diorama of the Harunotsuji site. One of the major finds at Harunotsuji is what appears to be a dock, reinforced with rocks, similar to what they find on the continent.  This dock was at a small stream that was once larger, and was likely used to ferry goods and people from Harunotsuji to a settlement or outpost on the shore.  It gives greater insight into what trade and life looked like. Speaking of which, props to the museum for their excellent use of often comical figures in their diorama, which is clearly made to appeal to young and old alike.  They help humanize the figures, and each part of the layout that they created of the site tells a story about what was going on. In addition to the diorama of the site, and what it may have looked like, there were also actual Yayoi era pots that were there which you could pick up and handle yourself.  I have to admit that I did this with some trepidation, even knowing that these were not particularly special, and that there are many pots and shards that are found at sites like these.  Still, it was something to actually handle a pot that was made back in that time—something that was made by an actual person living back then and used for whatever purpose before it was discarded or lost, only to be found centuries later.  Besides the room on the site, there is another side to the museum in that it is a working archaeological center.  You can see the lab where people are working, and they also have a room where you can see the stacks—the giant shelves with all of the historical and archaeological bits and bobs that weren't on display for one reason or another.  That is something that many people don't always appreciate:  For many museums, only a portion of their collection is actually on display.  It was really great to see all of that out in the open. The museum also has a café and some function rooms, as well as a giant observation tower, from which it feels like you can see the entire island, and beyond.  You could definitely look down and see the site, but you could also see some of the more distant islands as well. From the museum we went down to see the actual Harunotsuji site.  There is another museum there, which was a little less impressive but still quite informative, and it was where you park and then walk over to the site itself.  And here I admit that it was getting late, so we came back to it another day, but it doesn't really take that long to see the site itself. Most of the site sits on a rise of land that sits just a little higher than the surrounding fields, with a gentle slope to it.  It is oddly shaped, likely because they used the natural contours of the land rather than explicitly building up a terrace.  There is another rise towards one end of the settlement, with what may have been a fence around the area, indicating that the buildings in that area were set aside as special.  There are also ditches that appear to have been purposefully dug to separate a part of the rise from the area of the settlement, as buildings were apparently found on one side but not the other.  What was found was a small area surrounded by a moat, generally thought to have been used for some kind of ritual. At the site today are reconstructed buildings of multiple kinds, based on the archeological findings.  There are pit buildings, buildings sitting flush on the ground, as well as raised buildings, all based likely on the arrangements and size of post-holes and the like.  There also appears to have been some kind of gate or barrier structure, also based on postholes, which they have physically reconstructed. It is always tricky to interpret what a building looked like other than guessing at its general shape and size.  Extremely large post-holes likely held larger posts, which would make particular sense if they were for a tall structure, like a watchtower, but exact architectural features such as doorways, roof structure, etc. are derived based on other examples as well as Shinto shrine architecture, which seems to originate from some of the early Yayoi buildings. There were also some finds in the surrounding areas, including what appears to have been a stone-lined dock for boats to pull up, some kind of guard post to inspect people entering or leaving the settlement, and moats, which likely surrounded the settlement as well. Harunotsuji is not the only Yayoi site that has been excavated on Iki island, but nothing else is quite so large.  Put in context with other archaeological sites from the same time period, Harunotsuji is thought to have been the most powerful, and therefore where the ruler, or the quote-unquote “King”, of Iki would have lived. Here I'd note that the interpretation of Harunotsuji as a kingly capital is quite prevalent in the local literature, but what exactly was a “king” in this sense isn't fully explored.  As we talked about two episodes back with Gimhae and the quote-unquote “Kingdom” of Gaya, Iki-koku probably better fits the English term of a large chiefdom, rather than a kingdom.  However, that would also likely apply to Queen Himiko, as well—even if her chiefdom dwarfed Iki-koku by comparison. That said, there certainly appears to be a social stratification of some kind going on at the site, especially with a special area clearly set aside at one end of the settlement.  Was that where a shaman-king—or queen—similar to Himiko carried out private, arcane rites on behalf of the entire settlement?  Perhaps the entire island?  Or is it something else? Unfortunately, we can't really know, at least not right now.  However, we do know that it was an important part of the trade routes from the continent out to the archipelago.  This isn't just because of the Weizhi, or the common sense that this is the clearest route between the two, but also because of artifacts found at the site, which include abundant goods from the continent.  In addition we found evidence of dogs, armor, shields, and various pots. One thing I didn't see evidence of was a large funkyubo, like at Yoshinogari, where they buried people in pots on a large, communal cemetery mound.  Here the highest elevations appear to have been used for living structures.  There were graves discovered, and some of these were the pot-style burials found at Yoshinogari and the continent, and others were rectangular, stone-lined coffins, similar to those used on the Tsushima kofun:  they are lined with large, flat slabs that define a rectangle, into which the body is placed, and then flat slabs of stone are used to cover it back up. Harunotsuji shows signs of habitation from the start of the Yayoi period to the beginning of the Kofun period.  After that, though, the trail grows a bit cold. We do know, however, that people were still living on Iki through the Kofun period—we assume they didn't just pack up their bags and leave—and that is thanks to the many kofun found across the island.  There are some 280 kofun preserved today, and Edo period accounts had that number at more like 340.  Indeed, Iki has one of the largest and best preserved collection of kofun of all of Kyushu.   Many are smaller kofun, but there are plenty of groups of large kingly kofun.  A group of the larger kingly kofun can be found in the border area between Katsumoto-cho and Ashibe-cho, due west of Ashibe port.  This includes the large Soroku Kofun, Oni-no-iwaya Kofun, the Sasazuka Kofun, as well as the Kakegi kofun and the Yurihata Kofun-gun.  Soroku kofun, a large, keyhole shaped tomb, boasts a length of 91 meters, making it not only the largest on the island, but the largest in all of Nagasaki prefecture.   Kofun culture on the island differed slightly from elsewhere.  For instance, there is evidence of multiple burials in the same tomb, suggesting that they were viewed more like family mausoleums than  simply a single tomb structure. The earliest kofun found on Iki so far can be dated to about the latter half of the 5th century, with most of them being built in the 6th to 7th centuries.  Many are stone chambers with a horizontal entryway, which in the case of the Kakegi and Sasazuka kofun, are open to those who want to get in and explore.  Be aware, though, as many signs tell you, various local residents have also made these tombs their homes, including bats, centipedes, snakes, and more.  Most of them are relatively harmless, but it is always good to know what you are getting into. With the earliest kofun on the island dating to about the 5th century, this does pose a slight question yet to be answered by the archaeological record:  Where were people living in the century between the end of Harunotsuji and the start of the kofun building period?  Heck, where were people living on the island at all?  We certainly know where the dead were buried. Looking at a map, one probably assumes that many of the kingly kofun would have been built somewhat near a population center.  After all, you don't build giant burial mounds just to hide them—these would have likely been visible to people in some way, shape, or form.  I would note that modern roads, likely built on earlier pathways, wind in between the kofun, even today. Personally, I can't help but notice that the Iki Kokubunji temple, the Provincial temple built in the 8th century, was quite close to some of the kingly kofun in Katsumoto.  It is said that this temple was originally built as the family temple of the Iki clan.  As one might guess from the name, the Iki were the traditional rulers of Iki, officially appointed by Yamato as the “Agata-nushi” or district lord, and later as “Shima no Miyatsuko”—the island equivalent of a “Kuni no Miyatsuko”.  Various biographies trace the Iki back to various lineages close to or intertwined with the Nakatomi.  However, this is not without some debate, and it is entirely possible that any such ties were fabricated to give the Iki clan greater clout and stature.  It is possible, and even likely, that the Iki clan grew out of the ruling elite on Iki island. In addition, we have the old Tsukiyomi Jinja, said to be the oldest on the island, and the Kunikatanushi shrine built right next to the Kokubunji site.  The Tsukiyomi shrine is dedicated to the moon god, who is said to be the god of navigation, among other things, and this is the clan shrine of the Iki clan. It is unclear, but seems plausible that the center of the Iki polity may have shifted north, to the modern Kokubun area.  If so, and if this continued to be the area of the regional government headquarters through the Nara period and beyond, then it is possible that any earlier settlements would have simply been covered up and even erased by later buildings and structures.  I don't think we'll ever truly know, though, unless something significant is uncovered. We do have some historical records of later Iki, quite understandable as it was where many of the envoys and expeditions to and from the mainland would have stopped. In the 11th century, Iki, along with Tsushima, was attacked by pirates from the mainland, thought to be of Jurchen descent, in an event called the Toi Invasion, which caused quite a bit of destruction.  After that we see the rise of the Matsura clan.  They arose in the Matsura area of Hizen province, just a little ways over from Karatsu.  That name may be related to “Matsuro”, but we'll talk more about that when we get to Karatsu. The Matsura largely came to power thanks to their navy—which was a navy to some and pirates to others.  They ended up gaining a foothold in Iki island. Whatever plans they had, however, met with a giant setback in 1274.  As we discussed last episode, that was when the first Mongol invasion hit Japan, and after steamrolling through Tsushima they began a bloody conquest of Iki.  The video game, Ghosts of Tsushima, which we talked about fairly extensively last episode for, well, obvious reasons, actually has an expanded Iki island area for those who want to try fighting off this invasion for themselves.  There are numerous reminders across the island of the invasions, both in 1274 and 1281.  The death toll was catastrophic, and even today parents will often tell their children that if they don't behave the Mongols will come back and take them away. In 1338, soon afer the Ashikaga shogun came to power, Ashikaga Takauji and his brother, Tadayoshi, directed the erection of temples in all 66 provinces, including Iki, to pray for the repose of those who died in battle during turbulent times, including the Mongol invasions and the later civil war.  That temple is still there, just a little ways north from the Harunotsuji site. The temple building itself only dates from the Edo period, as it burned down multiple times, but it is still said that it is the oldest extant temple building on the island.  There is a large cedar tree thought to be over a thousand years old, which may have even been there during the Toi and Mongol invasions.  There are also signs of Christian activity in some of the artwork, if you know what to look for. When Europeans arrived in Japan in the 16th century, they brought not only guns, but also a new religion:  Christianity.  Priests were given permission to set up churches and convert people.  Some daimyo converted—whether out of true faith or simply to get more lucrative trading deals with Europeans—and they often made their entire fief convert as well.  When Christianity was eventually outlawed, many Christian communities went underground, becoming known as “Hidden Christians.”  A lot of these communities continued, especially in the Iki and Goto islands, which were a little further away from shogunal authority.  They continued despite the lack of priests and Bibles, often using iconography that could be plausibly passed off as Buddhist or Shinto in nature.  Many remained in hiding throughout the Edo period, only revealing themselves after the Meiji government came in and issued a law protecting the freedom of religion, including Christianity.  Around Iki you will occasionally find little hints of such communities' existence. The 16th century saw more than just European traders and new religions.  The Matsura clan retained control over the island from their base in Hirado, even during the tumultuous era of Warring States.  Last episode we talked about how Toyotomi Hideyoshi, the new Taiko, came out of that time and declared war on the Joseon court, in Korea. To start with he built Nagoya castle on Kyushu and moved himself and all of his retainers out to it.  And before you ask, no, this probably isn't the Nagoya castle you are thinking of.  Similar name, but different kanji characters Anyway, from Nagoya on the coast of Kyushu, supply lines were run out to Tsushima, and then across to Busan.  To defend against a counterattack by Joseon forces, they built castles along the way as well.  In Iki, this meant building several, including Katsumoto-jo, at the northern end of the island, under the command of Matsura Shigenobu. Later, Tokugawa Ieyasu, eager to restore good will with the peninsula, would have the castles intentionally ruined, often by removing key stones so that they could no longer be considered defensible.  Today you can climb up to the Katsumoto-jo castle site and see the stones of the main gate and get a tremendous view from the observation platform. Katsumoto Castle isn't the only thing in Katsumoto that still remains from that time.  There is a local shrine, the Shomogu Shrine, which has a gate donated by Kato Kiyomasa, one of the generals who led troops on the invasion of Korea.  They also hold a cup that he is said to have donated. This shrine is certainly interesting and worth a visit.  Traditionally, they say that it was built on the site where Jingu Tennou departed from Iki during her legendary conquest of the Korean peninsula.  According to at least one source, at that time she called the place Kazamoto, the place where the wind comes from, and when she returned she changed it to Katsumoto, the place where her victory came from.  Of course, as we know, that whole narrative is rather suspect.  It is possible that the area was known as Kazamoto and that changed to Katsumoto. It also doesn't help that this is also where the Mongol army came ashore back in the 13th century, and I suspect that not much remained from before.  Still, there is a stone that is said to have the print of Jingu's horse's foot as she left, and it was at least connected to the ocean, given its location. There is a contention that this shrine may have once been known as “Nakatsu” shrine, literally “Middle port” shrine, one of the shrines listed in the Engi Shiki.  However, there is another Nakatsu shrine that also claims this distinction, also in Katsumoto-cho.  The Shomogu shrine theory holds that this was a branch shrine of Shomogu shrine, then known as Nakatsu.  This makes some sense as the current Nakatsu shrine is more inland, not exactly lending itself to being the “Middle Port” Shrine.  Then again, it would have referred to “Nakatsumiya”, meaning the “middle shrine” or “middle palace”, which puts us back at square one. More important than the actual history of this shrine, at least in the 16th century, is the fact that those generals heading off to conquer the Korean peninsula definitely would have appreciated praying to the spirit of Jingu Tennou before heading off to try it a second time.  Shomogu Shrine clearly had a link with her by then. By the way, slight side note, the “Shomo” of “Shomogu” literally means “Holy Mother”.  In this case it is referencing the “Holy Mother” Jingu Tenno, who was pregnant when she left Japan and didn't give birth until she came back—not quite a virgin birth.  “Shomo” was also the term that Christians, particularly hidden Christians, used to reference the Virgin Mary.  While I cannot find any evidence that Shomogu Shrine was connected with Christianity—its existence and worship there predates that religion coming to the archipelago by some time—it is still one of those things that the Hidden Christians could have used to their advantage, hiding their worship of the Virgin Mary and her holy child behind the name for Jingu Tenno. Now the town of Katsumoto, although only briefly a castle town, was still quite important through the Edo period, and the main street certainly recalls a time long past.  We stayed in a ryokan there that was over 100 years old, and there is both a sake brewery, and a craft beer brewery inside an old sake brewery, just down the street.  It isn't a big town, but it has character. In the Edo period, many of the Joseon envoys stopped in Katsumoto on their way to or from the archipelago.  These envoys typically had around 400 to 450 of their own people from Korea, but by the time they reached Iki they were joined by about 800 quote-unquote “guides” from Tsushima who were there to help them with whatever they needed.  Technically it was up to the Matsura daimyo, in Hirado, to provide for their needs, but it seems that more often than not that role more immediately fell to the wealthiest family on the island, the Toi family. The Toi family—not to be confused with the Toi invasion—made their money from capturing whales; a lucrative but dangerous enterprise, especially given the state of the boats at the time.  The stone wall of their mansion can still be seen in Katsumoto, though it is now wedged in between other buildings, as the mansion itself is otherwise long gone.  They may not have been daimyo, but they were apparently the rough equivalent for the people of Iki, and certainly Katsumoto. The envoys ended up calling at Katsumoto about 19 times between 1607 and 1811—11 times on the outbound trip and 8 times going the other direction.  For one mission, in the 18th century, we are even provided the amount of food that they required, which included 1500 sweet potatoes, 15,000 eggs, 7 and a half tons of abalone, 3 tons of squid, 7 and a half tons of rice, and 15 koku of sake, equaling about 1500 standard bottles, today.  A drawing of the 1748 envoy showed parts of Katsumoto that you can still visit, today, including the old boat launch, the Shomogu shrine and nearby streets, Shigayama, and what is today “Itsukushima Shrine”, related to the worship of Susano'o's three daughters, as are the Munakata shrines and the Itsukushima shrine on Miyajima with the famous torii in the water. Besides the historical sites, Iki island offers a plethora of other activities and attractions.  The famous monkey rock, or Saruiwa, is a famed natural feature, as are many others.  There are also beaches that people appear to enjoy—though we were there in the winter, so not great—or just getting out in a boat and seeing the natural beauty of the island.  There are also many more shrines and temples to visit; Iki has its own 88 temple pilgrimage based on the 88 temple pilgrimage of places like Shikoku.  You can also do a pilgrimage of the many Shinto shrines, some of which are mentioned in historical documents like the Engi Shiki and others that are more modern.  While many of the buildings are often newer, and things have of course changed over the centuries, these sites often still contain connections to history, and may even have historical treasures in their storehouses or on the grounds. We only had a limited time, so tried to keep our trip focused on more of the Yayoi and Kofun era stuff.  We both agreed we would gladly go back again in a heartbeat. Next up, we caught the ferry from Indoji on Iki over to Karatsu port on Kyushu, what is thought to be the site of the old Matsuro kingdom.  While others might point to the modern Matsuura city area, this region is may be more likely, and we'll talk about that next episode.  In addition, we'll talk about Karatsu, which literally means “Chinese port”, and about the nearby castle ruins of Nagoya castle—an area that was, for about seven brief years, in the late 16th century the de facto capital of Japan. But that will be next time. Until then, thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to reach out to us at our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

こんにちは。 ジェニのピカピカ日本語へようこそ。 今日は、前回の鈴夏と弥生のドラマのお話の続きです。 日本の今の文化も垣間見られると思います。 楽しんでください。 Hello. Welcome to Jenni's Pika Pika Japanese. Today, we will continue with the previous story about the drama between Suzuka and Yayoi. I think you will also get a glimpse of current Japanese culture. Enjoy. Hola. Bienvenidos al Pika Pika japonés de Jenni. Hoy continuamos con la historia anterior sobre el drama entre Suzuka y Yayoi. También podrás echar un vistazo a la cultura japonesa actual. Disfrutad.

こんにちは。 ジェニのピカピカ日本語へようこそ。 前回の鈴夏と美優がスポーツ談義はいかがでしたか？ 今日は、鈴夏と弥生で日本のドラマについて話しています。 Hello. Welcome to Jeni's Pika Pika Japanese. How was the last time Suzuka and Miyu talked about sports? Today, Suzuka and Yayoi are talking about Japanese dramas. Hola. Bienvenidos al Pika Pika Japonés de Jenni. ¿Qué os pareció la última vez que Suzuka y Miyu hablaron de deportes? Hoy, Suzuka y Yayoi hablan de dramas japoneses.

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

We have a bombastic episode of NMB Takoyaki Party this month! We talk about NMB's brand new original stage Tenshi no Utopia, we talk about the 29th single “Kore ga Ai na no ka?” and its coupling songs and how its sales are doing. Yuumin announces grad, Hollywood star sightings in Namba, YNN's new lineup of Youtube content, and more!   If you have a question or comment for the podcast, you can leave it in the comments section on Youtube, or email us at nmbtakoyaki.party@gmail.com Hang out with all the other international NMB fans on Discord!  http://discord.gg/nmbfans Subscribe to the podcast on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you get your podcasts at.   You can find English subs for Idol Shikkaku on the Teppen Subs blog as well as other subbed NMB content.   https://teppensubteam.tumblr.com/   0:00 - Intro 2:58 - NMB's new original theater show has happened!   1:05:22 - BREAK   1:05:32 - Talking about the 29th single “Kore ga Ai na no ka”   1:36:36 - Abeno Q Mall release event mini-live report   1:45:05 - Kore ga Ai no ka handshake sales check-in   1:59:51 - Ishida Yuumi announces graduation   2:08:36 - Itagaki Koyori starts doing gravure   2:15:37 - YNN Youtube is now Ura Namba Chan channel   2:27:15 - Emosuto   2:28:32 - Osaka Comic Con highlights   2:38:50 - Mako has a sports radio show for kids in Hokkaido   2:40:22 - Yoshimoto Sports Fest is happening   2:42:49 - Members doing more random Osaka Expo promotional work   2:46:18 - Geoff talks about Yayoi's play with the Nogizaka46 girl   2:51:51 - Outro, talking about getting ready for the handshake events  

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

Filling in the rest of Takara's reign with the stories of the various envoys at court, the Baekje princes living in Yamato, and the story of a 7th century millenial cult. For more, check out https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-107   Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is episode 107: Winds Across the Straits Villagers gathered near the center of their community.  In contrast to the clean, walled up compounds of the local elites, with their raised floor buildings, the buildings here were much simpler, often sitting directly on the ground, or dug down into the earth in the pit dwelling style that had been used for centuries.  Mostly what anyone would notice were the thatched roofs, which had been used for centuries to keep out the rain and snow.   A tall watchtower was currently unmanned as everyone had gathered around, curious at the news coming from the east. A wandering mystic had come to town, and she was spreading words of hope across the country of Yamashiro.  Over the past few years there had been droughts, famine, earthquakes, and more.  People had tried everything in conjunction with the advice of their local hafuri, or priests. They had petitioned the local kami of the rivers and lakes, they had tried imported practices like sacrificing horses, and at a nearby village they had changed the location of the marketplace to see if that would work. Even when the rains had come, the damage had been done.  Food was scarce, and many of those who had survived were hardly in the best of situations.  Life in the village, working the land, was quite different from the life of the elites.  The wealthy had servants and slaves to tend to their needs, and they had access to stores of grain and other food in times of trouble.  They also had charge of the mononofu—the warriors who worked for them and were often an implicit—if not explicit—threat of violence for anyone who didn't pay their expected taxes.  This is perhaps what made the mystic's message so alluring.  She told them about the teachings of a man from the River Fuji, in the East, named Ohofu Be no Ohoshi:  he claimed to have discovered a new kami, the god of Tokoyo, the Everlasting world.  It was said that those who worshipped this god, who appeared in the land in the form of a caterpillar that thrived on orange tree leaves, would earn great things in this new world, when it came.  The poor would become rich and the old would become young again, when the promises of Tokoyo came to fruition. But it wasn't as easy as just saying some words.  True devotees would need to prove themselves, casting out the valuables of their house and setting out any food on the side of the road.  They would then yell out: “The new riches have come!” Then they were to worship these insects that were the kami's incarnation.  They would put them in a pure place and worship them with song and dance.  Many had already started doing this, the mystic said.  Indeed, the people of Yamashiro had heard rumors of some of these new practices, but only now were learning about why they had arisen.  It was a lot to ask, to give up their valuables and the little food they had — but then again, in this dew drop world, what was there to lose, for those already working themselves to the bone?  Was this any more incredible than asking the hafuri to pray to the kami, or even relying on that new religion in Yamato, where they prayed to giant bronze and gold statues to bring about prosperity and happiness.  Besides, if so many others had joined up already, perhaps there was something to these fantastic stories. And thus, village by village, a new religion began to take hold of the countryside, eventually making its way to the capital of Yamato, itself.     Greetings, listeners!  While the thing we covered last episode -- the Isshi Incident of 645, which is to say the assassination of Soga no Iruka in front of Her Majesty Takara, aka Kougyoku Tenno -- certainly dominates the narrative in the popular imagination for this particular point in Japanese history, there was a lot more going on over these last few years, both over on the continent in the archipelago.  And so this episode we are going to cover some of that:  From the missions from Baekje, Goguryeo, and Silla, which were likely driven by conflict on the peninsula, to the Baekje Princes who resided in the Yamato court as political hostages as well as esteemed guests.  And to finish it off we'll talk about the popular 7th century millennial cult that sprang up in Yamashiro around the worship of the God of Tokoyo, the Everlasting World.  All in the reign of the Empress known to history as Kougyoku Tennou…. At least for now. Michael Como, in his book on Shoutoku Taishi, makes particular note of some of the overarching themes across the straits and how that affected what was happening—or at least what gets remembered—in Yamato.  As we discussed back in episode 98, Como makes the point that the early, opposing Buddhist factions that placed Shotoku Taishi on a pedestal were largely connected with one or more continental factions.  While the Soga were heavily connected with Baekje, other family groups, like the Hata, were more closely tied with Silla, at least according to later accounts. And on top of that, the area around Koshi and Tsunaga had ties with Goguryeo.  As the Tang dynasty and Goguryeo were in contention on their own borders, no doubt both of them and their allies were looking to nearby nations for either support or at least neutrality.  One can also see how peninsular enmities might also make their way across the strait to the archipelago with families of various ethnic backgrounds no doubt carrying on some of the continental prejudices with them even into a new land. A lot of the accounts for this reign that aren't dealing with the weather and natural disasters—topics of particular concern from the 642 to 643—are dealing with the continent. It started out in 642, with Baekje envoys arriving in the first month of that year, apparently to deliver their condolences on the death of the sovereign.  They were accompanied by Yamato's envoy to Baekje, Azumi no Yamashiro no Muraji no Hirafu, who left them at Tsukushi to rush back to Yamato via post-horse, while the Baekje envoys took their time via the normal, ship-borne route. And right off the bat we have a few things of note.  The first is this idea of post-horses.  The various circuits around the archipelago had reportedly been set up some time back, even before horses were a thing.   While a single horse would have been rather fast overland, the mention of post-horse system implies a method of travel more akin to the short-lived pony express in the American west, where various post stations were set up across the major highways so that officials could quickly traverse them, riding horseback from one station to the next, where a fresh horse would be waiting for them.  This way the horses themselves could be properly fed and rested, since no single horse could cover all of the ground in a straight up gallop, just as no person could.  Instead, this is something like a relay race, where the envoy Hirafu became the baton passed from horse to horse.  The Pony Express used stations set up at intervals of approximately 5 to 20 miles, so that the horses could be changed out frequently.  Of course, changing horses would also take some time—I've found some sources citing average speeds of only about 10 miles per hour for the Pony Express, but that beats by far the four miles per hour for a fast walker, not to mention the ability to keep going for much longer than just 8 hours a day.  Of course, he would have had to take a boat for at least some of the journey, likely crossing from Kyuushuu over to Honshuu near Shimonoseki or something similar, at which point he could have caught another horse from there.  The resonates with something that goes back to pre-Qin Dynasty times, when kingdoms on the continent would set up not just courier stations with horses, but systems of canal boats, and inns for people to stay overnight on long journeys.  Still, it must have been a grueling experience. That such a means of conveyance could take Hirafu from Kyushu to Yamato, though, implies that Yamato's reach was fairly solid all the way out to the Dazai near modern Fukuoka, at least.  It is unclear how these post stations were set up in regards to the local Miyake, or royal granaries, another government project we've talked about, but either way it demonstrates a certain degree of control over the region. And so Hirafu was able to make it back to the court in time for the ceremonies associated with the mourning of Tamura, aka Jomei Tennou, and the ascension of Her Majesty, Takara no Ohokimi.  He likewise was able to inform the court of Baekje's condolence envoys' imminent arrival and give the court a head's up on the situation in Baekje, where he said that the country was “greatly disturbed”.  When the Baekje envoys themselves arrived, Azumi no Hirafu, Kusakabe no Iwakane, and Yamato no Aya no Agata were sent to ask them about their news. From what we know in the Samguk Sagi, King Wicha of Baekje had just come to the throne.  The previous king, King Mu, died in the third month of 641, so it hadn't even been a year since his death.  Furthermore, we are told that his wife, the mother of King Wicha, had also passed away.  The Baekje envoys asked for the return of prince Saeseong, possibly the younger brother of Prince P'ung, saying he had behaved badly and they wanted to convey him back to the King, but Takara refused.  Presumably, based on context, this was one of the hostages that Yamato held from Baekje, but why they wouldn't turn them over to the Baekje envoys isn't explained.  I suspect it had something to do with the politics of King Wicha coming to the throne, which seems like it may have not been accepted by everyone, as evidenced by his tour of the realm, mentioned in the Samguk Sagi, which was likely a political move to demonstrate his authority over the realm. This colors a lot of what we are going to talk about, so let's try to get some of it straight off the bat.  Unfortunately, as we talked about in Episode 105, some of the Baekje related dates are questionable, and that means that there is a lot here that I'm going to give you where we may have to back track a bit and see if we can put it in the right order.  I'm going to try to give you the information in largely chronological order according to the Nihon Shoki, but then I'll also try and place it where we think it might actually go, so apologies if this feels disjointed. Also, let me take a moment to talk a little bit more about the Baekje royal family, which will become rather important to our narrative.  For one, there is King Wicha, son of King Mu.  Mu passed away in 640 and Wicha came to the throne.  Wicha already had several children of his own, one of whom, Prince Pung, or Prince Pungjang, will feature heavily in both the Japanese and Korean sources, though as we mentioned in episode 105, the dates around Prince Pung's arrival, which the Nihon Shoki has about 630, doesn't match up with what we know.  We are fairly confident that Prince Pung returned to Baekje in 661, which accords with the Nihon Shoki, Samguk Sagi, and Tang records.  However, Best makes a good case that he didn't actually come over to the archipelago until much later—probably 643. He wasn't the only royal prince of Baekje in Yamato, however.  We are told of two others:  Saeseong and Gyoki.  Saeseong is mentioned as being a bit of a troublemaker, and requested to come home, but Yamato refuses to let him go.  Gyoki is said to have caused trouble and been banished with some 40 others out to sea.  I have a suspicion that much of this is misplaced in the Chronicle.  Saesong may have been there first or perhaps came over with Prince Pung—I've seen him mentioned as the younger brother to Prince Pung, but I also wonder if he wasn't the younger brother to King Wicha.  Gyoki, meanwhile, despite what we initially hear about him, is invited to Yamato shortly after that entry and treated like a real celebrity.  It is unclear to me if he is a younger brother to Wicha or an elder brother to Prince Pungjang, but either way, he seems to have been a royal prince that wasn't quite in line for the throne. I suspect that in reality the mission that is listed as coming in 641 was actually much later—possibly in the 650s.  That would explain some of it, including the gossip that the Senior Counselor, Chijeok, died in the 11th month of the previous year, Aston writes off most of this as an unreliable narrative by servants.  Jonathan Best, in his translation of the Samguk Sagi, is a bit more generous and suggests that, much as with Prince Pung-jang, whom the Nihon Shoki records arriving in the 630s but who couldn't reasonably have arrived until the 640s, there was probably a dating issue.  The scribes were using records with the branch and stem system of dates, and so it could easily have been off by a factor of ten or twelve years, at least.  We know, for instance, that there is a record of Senior Counselor Chijeok in the Nihon Shoki in the 7th month of 642, though it says he died in 641.  Furthermore, we have his name on a fragmentary inscription, likely dating to 654, noting him as a patron of a Buddhist monastery.  So it would seem that word of his death was exaggerated or parts of this are coming from later accounts, and the scribes simply made a mistake.  Hence my suggestion that this entire entry might be misplaced.  If so, it would make more sense for Yamato to be asking about the fates of people that they knew, and hence hearing the fates of Chijeok and Gyoki, who had both visited Yamato and would have been known to the court.   Regardless, it likely was the case, as recorded in the Nihon Shoki, that the envoys' ship was anchored in Naniwa harbor and the envoys were put up at the official government residence there, in modern Ohosaka.  This may indicate that the mission mentioning Chijeok and Gyoki got conflated with other entries about the actual envoys of condolence and congratulations. Then, 19 days later, on the 22nd day of the 2nd month, another group of envoys showed up.  This time it was Goguryeo.  As mentioned, Goguryeo had a few things going on, but they still knew how to make an entrance.  For example, the Chronicles mention that high ministers were sent to the district office in Naniwa to inspect the gold and silver that Goguryeo had sent with their envoys, along with other things from their country.  This may have been them trying to get Yamato on their side. That said, Goguryeo had been going through a lot themselves, we are told.  First off, based on the Samguk Sagi accounts, Goguryeo had sent envoys to the Tang in 640.  In 641, the Tang court returned the favor, and in so doing their envoy, the Director of the Bureau of Operations in their Ministry of War, Chen Dade, used it as a chance to spy out the border region.  At every walled town he would offer the local officials gifts of silk, and ask to be allowed to see the scenic spots.  They let him roam freely, so by the time he went back he had an intimate account and understanding of Goguryeo's defenses along the Tang-Goguryeo border.  Goguryeo seems to have been completely unaware of this touristic espionage, but then again, they may have been distracted dealing with their own internal problems. And so the Nihon Shoki reports that the envoys delivered news of this to the court: How the younger prince of Goguryeo died in the 6th month of 641.  Then, in the 9th month, the Prime Minister murdered the king, along with some 180 people.  He then put the son of the younger prince on the throne as king. In the Samguk Sagi, these events appear to happen a year later.  Yon Gaesomun killed King Keonmu in the 10th month of 642 and put Prince Chang, aka Pojang, on the throne.  The Samguk Sagi says he was the younger brother of King Keonmu, the son of King Taeyang—who was the younger brother of King Yeongnyu, so that may be where the Nihon Shoki gets that he was the “son of the younger prince”.  Still, the gist is correct, even if it seems to be off by a year or so.  From here, Goguryeo would be at war with the Tang dynasty for much of the next thirty years, all under the reign of King Pojang.  They were able to fend the Tang off for a while, but the Tang would eventually ally with Silla, and though Baekje seems to have supported Goguryeo in general, Baekje itself was also caught between the Tang and Silla.  They no doubt hoped for Yamato's aid, but while the archipelago may have had warriors, they were still a good ways from the continent, and would likely need to avoid confrontation with Silla, who now controlled all the way to the Nakdong river basin.  Not that they wouldn't try.  Insert dramatic sound effects alluding to a later episode. All that prognosticating aside, at this point, at least from the envoys' point of view, all of the future was unwritten.  Both Goguryeo and Baekje guests were entertained at the Naniwa district office, and envoys were named to Goguryeo, Baekje, Silla, and to the no longer extant Nimna—the latter seems to have been, at this point, a not-so-polite fiction between Silla and Yamato that Nimna was still at least semi-independent. It was at this time that Gyoki was also brought to Yamato and lodged in the house of Azumi no Hirafu, the previous envoy to Baekje.  Gyoki likely knew Hirafu from his time at the Baekje court.  This was probably the actual arrival of Gyoki, I suspect. A week or so later, the Silla envoys of congratulations and condolence arrived: congratulations on Takara's ascension and then a group of envoys expressing condolence for her husband's death.  They left after less than two weeks—apparently they simply delivered their message and left, unless there was some other reason having to do with the Baekje and Goguryeo envoys being there at the same time.  No mention is made in the Nihon Shoki of exactly why they turned around so quickly. Meanwhile, Gyoki was living it up.  He's referenced as the Chief Envoy from Baekje at this point—probably the highest ranking individual from the court present.  On the 8th day of the fourth month he attended an audience with Her Majesty, Takara, and then two days later he was partying with Soga no Emishi out at his mansion in Unebi.  Soga no Emishi had good conversations and presented a good horse and twenty bars of iron, but curiously the hostage crown prince, Sesaeng, was not invited to any of this. Given that we know what the Chroniclers think of Soga no Emishi, I'm wondering if there isn't a little bit of that same feeling towards Gyoki.  After all, we were previously told he and some 40 others were exiled, so perhaps this is just leading up to that? Gyoki and his companions were later invited to witness an “archery hunt” in front of the Yosami Miyake in Kawachi.  This is glossed as “Uma-yumi” or “Horse-Bow”, leading one to wonder if this was similar to yabusame, the traditional horsed archery, performed at various shrines each year.  Or perhaps it was one of the other archery games from horseback, many of them much less savory, often using a live animal as the target, usually staked or confined to an area, and the archers circle around and shoot at them. By the 5th month of 642 – a little over three months after Baekje had first arrived with envoys of condolences, we are told that a shipp of Baekje envoys anchored together along with the ship of the Kishi family.  This is likely Naniwa no Kishi, as Naniwa no Kishi no Kuhina had been assigned as envoy to Baekje.  The envoys delivered their goods and Kuhina reported on their mission. Once again, the dates look to be slightly off.  Had Kuhina really traveled to Baekje and back in just three months?  It is possible, but not typically how things were done at the time.  Ships often had to take their time, navigating the Seto Inland Sea and then checking in at modern Fukuoka before following the island chains out to Tsushima.  At that point they could sail around Tsushima, or cross at a narrow part of the island, known today as Kofunakoshi.  We know that this was used from at least the 9th century as a place where ships coming to and from the islands would stop, often transmitting their goods to a local ship on the other side, with a crew that presumably better knew the waters and was under the command of the appropriate government.  In addition, as the ships reached various checkpoints they would stop for a while, and often another ship would be sent ahead to prepare the way for an official delegation.  Since they didn't have phones, something like this would have been required to inform the next post to be ready to receive the visitors. More likely, this would have been Kuhina finally ready to depart to take on his mission with Baekje. Shortly after this, we are told that one of Gyoki's companions died, and then his own child died—we aren't told if it was from disease or something else.  It did provide an opportunity to see some of the cultural differences between Baekje and Yamato at the time, as Gyoki and his wife refused to attend the ceremonies for their late son.  The Chroniclers explained that, in Baekje and Silla, when someone dies, the parents, siblings, and spouse were not supposed to look on them again. For what it's worth, I could find no relationship between this and any contemporary Korean practice.  This may have been something in Baekje and Silla that eventually went away.  Then again, it is possible there was something else going on, and it was misinterpreted by the Wa.  Given that the Chroniclers are dismissive of the practice, it is entirely possible that this was just slanderous rumor, too.  The Chroniclers make a point of saying that the people of Baekje and Silla who practice these kinds of death rites are without feeling, and thus no better than animals.  So, yeah, clearly the Chroniclers were presenting just the facts, right? Gyoki's child was buried in Ishikawa in Kawachi, and Gyoki moved his family to a house in Ohowi, in Kudara—which is to say the area of Kawachi named for Baekje. Two months after he lost his son, on the 22nd day of the 7th month, Senior Counsellor Chicheok and colleagues were entertained at the Yamato court.  This is that same Senior Counsellor previously thought to be dead.  Again, Aston simply treats it as gossip, while I tend to wonder if the records aren't out of order—unless Chijeok was some kind of Baekje Benjamin Button.  Entertainment at the Yamato court apparently included havingvarious people wrestle for their entertainment. Even Prince Gyoki himself entered the contest.  When the banquet was finished they went to pay their respect's at Gyoki's compound, likely stopping by and having a bit of a nightcap. Two weeks later the Baekje envoys tried to leave, but the storms kicked up.  One of the ships was wrecked on the shore.  Fortunately, it seems like those on the boat survived and they were placed on another boat a couple weeks later.  A day after that, the Goguryeo envoys left for their own country. The Baekje envoys finally made it back, we are told, 11 days later, on the 26th day of the 8th month.  Not bad given the journey they had to undertake, and actually a bit hard to believe.  In contrast, the Silla envoys, who left in the 3rd month, apparently only made it as far as the island of Iki, between Kyushu and Tsushima, by the 10th month of 642.  Perhaps they were just going at a more leisurely pace, but it does make it hard to trust that all the records were rearranged in precisely the correct order. As for this period, outside of the Silla envoys, the entire episode, starting on the 2nd day of the 2nd month of 642, finally concluded—mostly—over six months later.  It occupies most of that part of Chronicle, with the exception of the accounts of the weather, drought, and famine. After all of these people had returned to the peninsula, the Nihon Shoki focuses on a few local things from the archipelago.  Soga no Emishi was ordered to raise a levy in Afumi and Koshi to build a temple, the court levied various provinces to make ships—we aren't told why but previously this was often something done in preparation for war—and then Takara ordered Soga no Emishi to build a new palace with levies on various provinces and workmen from Toutoumi and Aki.  That was all in the 9th month, at the end of which, we are told that several thousand Emishi from the Koshi region, where Soga no Emishi had been ordered to levy workers for a temple earlier in the month, submitted to Yamato and were entertained at court. Soga no Emishi himself entertained them at his house and asked them about their welfare. This is all a bit confusing, but let's try to understand some of what might be going on.  First, you may recall in the previous reign there was a mention with General Katana who went to the east to subdue an uprising of Emishi there, so it is possible that this is a continuation of that.  At the same time, these Emishi, we are told, are from the land of Koshi. It is likely that this is evidence of Yamato's increased presence in the northern region of the island of Honshi, which stretched along the northern edge of the Chubu, or middle Honshu, region, including the Noto peninsula and eastward to Tohoku, or the Northeast region.  This had been an important area for various resources, including the source of jade magatama, since at least the early days of the Yayoi period, judging from artifacts discovered at various sites.  It is also a region connected to the current dynasty, in that Wohodo no Ohokimi, aka Keitai Tennou, generally seen as the progenitor of the current line of sovereigns, is said to have come from that region. Furthermore, this region is closely connected to various overseas trade routes.  While the most common route we hear about, at least at this point in the chronicles, is the Seto Inland Sea route, there was also a route along the Japan Sea side of Honshu, which included the areas of Izumo and the port of Tsunuga—modern day Tsuruga—which includes the Kehi shrine, purportedly for a kami who came over from the peninsula.  At least one Goguryeo mission explicitly used this route—whether intentionally or otherwise—to get to Yamato, crossing over to Afumi, aka Lake Biwa, and then taking the rivers south to Naniwa. Michael Como suggests that there is enough evidence to suggest a fairly heavy Goguryeo influence in the region.  He also suggests that the Soga had a good deal of interactions and influences themselves with Goguryeo, pointing out that Shotoku Taishi's teacher had supposedly been a monk from Goguryeo, and that the plan for Asukadera, the Soga temple, with three golden halls around a central pagoda, is extremely similar to temple plans found in Goguryeo and not in Silla and Baekje. I do feel it is worth pointing out that it is very possible that this was not Asukadera's original layout, and it is hard to say how much of the stories surrounding Shotoku Taishi we can trust. Still, Koshi was an area that had a long history of trade with the continent, and the ease of the waterways from Yamato to the Japan Sea would have made it at least strategically useful to the growing state. There is another aspect here, but it is a bit more tenuous.  There are some that suggest that Soga no Emishi's own name, or at least the name as it is handed down to us today, comes from his dealings with the Emishi people.  Here we see him intimately involved in Koshi, in the Emishi coming to submit, and him then hosting them in his own house.  So even if his name is coincidental, there does appear to be some connection there. And we are still in the first year of Takara's reign.  It was in this twelfth month that Okinaga no Yamana no Kimi finally pronounced a eulogy for the entire royal line.  As you may recall, Takara's husband, Tamura, aka Jomei Tennou, had been a member of the Okinaga royal line, so this was likely part of the ceremonies around his death and burial. There is more here about the placement of palaces, which we touched on a lot in the last episode.  There is also a lot about storms, weather, and peach blossoms blooming. Then on the thirteenth day of the third month of 643, the second year of Takara's reign, there was a terrible fire in Naniwa.  The official guest quarters for Baekje burned down, and the houses of the common people also caught fire. This is also around the time that Best suggests that Prince Pungjang, son of King Wicha of Baekje, may have actually arrived, as we discussed earlier.  That actually could be tied to events a month later, when the Dazai in Tsukushi—the government outpost on Kyushu—sent a mounted messenger to Her Majesty, Takara, to let her know that Gyoki's younger brother, the son of the King of Baekje, had arrived.  The Baekje ships, which had arrived in the area of modern Fukuoka around the 21st day of the 4th month finally arrived in Naniwa two months later.  Presumably the Baekje envoys' official guest quarters had been repaired or rebuilt at this point, and several high ministers went to inspect the tribute.  They couldn't help but notice that the tribute this time was less—fewer items and of lower quality that previously.  The Envoys promised that they would make up the shortfall. Around all of this, the drama between the Soga, Prince Naka no Oe, and others was playing out, with Iruka attacking and eventually killing Yamashiro no Oe, all of which was discussed in the last episode.  Meanwhile we get a small line about Prince Pung keeping four hives of bees on Mt. Miwa, but apparently they didn't grow large enough to multiply, so that doesn't seem to have taken off. We'll return to Prince Pungjang later.  For now, we have seen much of the disturbances that were caused and eventually led up to the Isshi Incident in 645, and 644 is full of many long entries about everything that happened, but I don't want to worry about that—we covered most of that last episode.  What I do want to concern ourselves with is the story I started the episode with – the curious tale of a man named Ohofube no Ohoshi, who started up his own millennial cult. Now there has been quite a bit of speculation around this episode, especially given that all we really have is a single entry, dated to the 7th month of 644, and here I'll quote Aston's translation:  “A man of the neighbourhood of the River Fuji in the East Country named Ohofu Be no Oho urged his fellow-villagers to worship an insect, saying: "This is the God of the Everlasting World. Those who worship this God will have long life and riches." At length the wizards and witches, pretending an inspiration of the Gods, said:--"Those who worship the God of the Everlasting World will, if poor, become rich, and, if old, will become young again." So they more and more persuaded the people to cast out the valuables of their houses, and to set out by the roadside sake, vegetables, and the six domestic animals. They also made them cry out: "The new riches have come!" Both in the country and in the metropolis people took the insect of the Everlasting World and, placing it in a pure place, with song and dance invoked happiness. They threw away their treasures, but to no purpose whatever. The loss and waste was extreme. Hereupon Kahakatsu, Kadono no Hada no Miyakko, was wroth that the people should be so much deluded, and slew Ohofu Be no Oho. The wizards and witches were intimidated, and ceased to persuade people to this worship. The men of that time made a song, saying: Udzumasa Has executed The God of the Everlasting World Who we were told Was the very God of Gods. This insect is usually bred on orange trees, and sometimes on the Hosoki. It is over four inches in length, and about as thick as a thumb. It is of a grass-green colour with black spots, and in appearance entirely resembles the silkworm.” This is remarkable in several ways.  For one, we get a glimpse of how a popular cult might get started.  Since it is at this same time the cult of Shotoku Taishi is taking hold in some temples, it is interesting to draw parallels between the two.  Como points this out in his book on Shotoku Taishi, and notes several other things.  For one is the discussion of this “ever-lasting world”, or Tokoyo.  We've heard of Tokoyo before – the  term is found in the Chronicles in the section around the Age of the Gods.  Sukuna Bikona himself leaps off to Tokoyo from a blade of grass in one story, much like an insect himself. Tokoyo is a bit mysterious.  It isn't the land of the dead, where Izanami goes to live when she dies in childbirth.  Neither is it the Great Plain of Heaven, Takama no hara, where Amaterasu dwells.  We have the gods of the Heavens and gods of the Earth, but no gods of Tokoyo.  Indeed, Tokoyo is mentioned, but not well described.  By all accounts it would appear to be a place that spirits go after death to an unchanging world, rather than coming back to this one. This fits in with various other continental ideas starting to come over at the time, especially as part of the Mahayana Buddhist tradition, which included a search for effective ways to reach enlightenment.  There had been feelings for some time that humans were already in the latter days of the law, or Mappo: the concept that the further we get from the time of the Buddha, the more morality would decline and the harder it would be for people to break the chains of materialism and desire that hold them to this plane of existence.  As such, some sects and teachers taught simpler and more expedient methods, in an effort to save all of the sentient beings.  Things like an abbreviated mantra that would help you get into a paradise where you could eventually attain enlightenment certainly had its adherents, especially amongst those who might not have the time or inclination to join the monastery themselves.  The idea of a Pure Land, or Joudo, took off early, This Pure Land, is most commonly connected with Amida Butsu, the Amithaba Buddha.  Sutras referencing Amida and the Pure Land were translated by Kumarajiva as early as the 5th century, and may have been part of the larger corpus of scrolls brought over to the archipelago.  According to the sutra, they say that if you honestly chant Amida Butsu's name just once—often through the phrase “Namu Amida Butsu”—then rather than being reborn again into the world on your death, you would instead be reincarnated in a Pure Land, where you could focus entirely on your own enlightenment for however long it would take, removing yourself from the pain and suffering of this world.  This practice was taught by the Sanron school as well as by the Hossou school in the 7th and 8th centuries, along with other practices.  It would continue to be taught, especially developing in the Tendai sect. Of course chanting “Namu Amida Butsu” was something you could do while working the fields, or doing any other number of profane, yet necessary tasks.  So you can see why this was an attractive idea to many people, even if they didn't have the ability to start a temple or study the scriptures or become monks or nuns themselves, at least in this life. Pure Land belief and practices continued to grow and develop in various Buddhists sects, but really took off as an independent practice in Japan in the Kamakura Period, appealing to warriors and commoners alike with its seemingly simple mantra. Shotoku Taishi himself is closely connected to the Pure Land concept, as Como points out.  He and his teacher, Eija, are both said to have attained the Pure Land upon their deaths.  The famous embroidery, commissioned after Shotoku Taishi's death, known as the Tenjukoku Mandala, presumably also describes a country of Heavenly Long Life.  “Tenjukoku” does not have an immediate connection to any particular continental sect or philosophy, but it does seem to be at least a cognate for some of these other ideas such as the Joudo Pure Land OR the Tokoyo of Ohofube no Ohoshi. Whether Ohoshi was, in fact, influenced by other continental ideas is unclear.  We're not even sure if his was the first use of the concept of “Tokoyo” or if that was an idea already planted in the public consciousness by that time—though if so, I would think it would be a bit more widespread.  One could understand, however, how people who had been through famines, floods, earthquakes, disease, and more might find the idea of an eternal ever-after where they could be rich and young again quite inviting.  Enough people found it so that they apparently were willing to give up everything they owned and place it out on the streets.  Even if this wasn't just a scheme to go and scoop up all the goods and skip town, one can see how this may have been viewed as disruptive and unhealthy for the community, at least by those comfortably seated in power, whose workforce was being pulled away from their labors to this new belief system. The ones who were spreading this good news, while called wizards and witches by Aston, use characters that one could just as easily ascribe to Shinto priests and sacred Miko.  Since Shinto wasn't fully formed as we know it today, I think it might be better to say various ritualists and diviners.  Whether they were true believers or simply “pretending” to be inspired, as the Nihon Shoki says, who can say for certain.  What makes one vision more objectively “true” than another, beyond your own belief and faith? And it should be remembered that bringing in new spiritual ideas wasn't, well, new.  That's how Buddhism got started, and likely was one of the ways that Yamato itself expanded its own influence.  How many other quote-unquote “cults” like this existed, and how many were absorbed into the establishment and how many were cast aside? In this case, it would seem that Ohoshi's main problem was likely that he was attracting the wrong sorts of people, which is to say he was appealing to commoners.  In the Warring States period, we would see a not dissimilar dynamic with the independent Joudo Shinshu, a sect of Pure Land Buddhism, supporting commoners in what became known as the ikkou ikki.  They formed communities that helped each other, but at the same time bucked the yoke of the local daimyo and others.  This would bring about violent retribution from warlords like Oda Nobunaga, who wasn't having any of it. Similarly, as the Tokoyo sect spread into Yamashiro and down into the capital region, Kadono no Hata no Miyatsuko no Kawakatsu decided to take matters into his own hands.  Ostensibly, he was upset that people would be so deluded, and under that pretext, he had Ohoshi killed and his followers intimidated.  Cutting the head off the snake, as it were, caused the body to wither, and apparently the Tokoyo cult was not so everlasting after all. And here's where we bring things back around.  You may recall Hata no Kawakatsu, or at least his family.  The progenitor of the Hata family was called Uzumasa, and even today their name is affixed to an area of Kyoto, which was built in the old Hata territory.  Hence the poem about Uzumasa executing the God of the Everlasting World. That area, from Lake Biwa down to Naniwa, is on that corridor from Yamato to Koshi.  The Hata themselves are connected with the continent—especially with Silla.   The Hata temple of Kouryuuji even has a Silla image said to have been obtained by Shotoku Taishi and given to them.  Along with Shitennoji, it is one of several Silla-influenced temples that helped promote the cult of Shotoku Taishi.  It is, of course, possible that we are reading way too much into this.  Some of these things could just be coincidence, but then again, why was it written down and why did the Chroniclers feel that it was important to spend ink on the process?  That's the real question here.   And what more was going on that never got written down, or at least not clearly?  It is likely that we will never truly know the answer to all of these questions.  Unless some ancient documents are found from the period that miraculously survived, with significantly different stories, it would be hard to say much more, but that doesn't mean we can't wonder. But that's all we'll do for now.  At this point, I think we've covered these years from 642 to 645 as best we could, and it is probably time to move on.  I'm not going to prognosticate on next episode just yet, other than to say that we will eventually need to talk about the Taika Reforms—the Great Change.  But that may take a little more time to research so that we can do it properly, but we'll see. Until then, thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for their work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

こんにちは。ジェニのピカピカ日本語へようこそ。 今日はやよい先生が日本の家族についてお話しします。 あなたは日本語で家族をどのように呼ぶか知っていますか？ 今日はぜひ覚えてください。 ではまたね。 Hello. Welcome to Jeni's Pika Pika Japanese. Today, Yayoi-sensei is going to talk about Japanese families. Do you know how to call your family in Japanese? Please learn it today. See you soon. Hola. Bienvenidos a Pika Pika Japonés de Jeni. Hoy, Yayoi-sensei va a hablar sobre la familia japonesa. ¿Sabes cómo llamar a tu familia en japonés? Por favor, apréndelo hoy. Hasta pronto.

Aujourd'hui, on va partir de la période Jomon (Djo-mone) qui commence aux alentours de 14 000 ou 12 000 ans avant notre ère et on va aller jusqu'à nos jours en suivant pas à pas le découpage de la chronologie japonaise. C'est donc une vaste entreprise qui nous attend. Précisions, merci à «Truellelavie » YT -pas de traces d'Homo erectus au Japon à ce jour - la datation donnée pour le Yayoi est dépassée depuis 20 ans. Le Yayoi commence dans le sud de l'archipel vers 900 avant notre ère - la période des Kofun, il n'y a pas de centralisation du pouvoir dans l'archipel. Pas d'Etat . Yamato est une sorte de confédération de chefferie qui tente de dominer les autres chefferies dans l'ouest de l'archipel avec plus ou moins de succès. Adhérez à cette chaîne pour obtenir des avantages : https://www.youtube.com/channel/UCN4TCCaX-gqBNkrUqXdgGRA/join Pour soutenir la chaîne, au choix: 1. Cliquez sur le bouton « Adhérer » sous la vidéo. 2. Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/hndl Script: Jean-Mickaël Tardy  @LeherautdelHistoire  https://www.youtube.com/@LeherautdelHistoire Montage: DeadWill  @DEADWILL  https://www.youtube.com/@DEADWILL 00:00 Introduction 03:38 Jomon 04:23 Yayoi 05:23 Yamato 07:34 Nara 08:52 Heian 10:54 Kamakura 12:21 Restauration de Kenmu 12:59 Muromachi 16:49 Azuchi-Momoyama 18:42 Edo 21:15 Bakumatsu 22:28 Meiji 24:05 Taisho 24:48 Showa 28:40 Heisei 29:22 Reiwa   Abonnez-vous à ma chaine: https://www.youtube.com/c/LHistoirenousledira Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/histoirenousledira Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/laurentturcot Musique issue du site : https://epidemicsound.com Images provenant de https://www.storyblocks.com Les vidéos sont utilisées à des fins éducatives selon l'article 107 du Copyright Act de 1976 sur le Fair-Use. Sources et pour aller plus loin: - R. CALVET, Une histoire des samouraïs, Paris, France, Larousse, 2012, 208 p. - R. CALVET, Les Japonais: histoire d'un peuple, Paris, France, Armand Colin, 2003, 315 p. - J.F. SABOURET(dir.), Japon, peuple et civilisation, Paris, France, La Découverte, 2004, 232 p. - P. SOUYRI, Nouvelle histoire du Japon, Paris, France, Perrin, 2010, 627; 16 p. - M. VIÉ, Histoire du Japon: des origines à Meiji, Paris, France, Presses universitaires de France, impr. 2009, 2009, 127 p. -Larousse en ligne sur l'histoire du Japon : https://www.larousse.fr/encyclopedie/divers/Japon_histoire/185382 -Vidéo sur l'histoire du Japon : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pZvW-9MSKhI Sources et autres sites : https://fr.wikipedia.org/wiki/Histoire_du_Japon#:~:text=L'histoire%20du%20Japon%20commence,remontent%20%C3%A0%2032%20000%20ans. -Préhistoire et ancien Japon par Svetlana Zehnder 27 juin 2020 https://nihonkara.fr/lhistoire-du-japon-10-minutes-pour-tout-comprendre/#Prehistoire_et_ancien_Japon -Histoire du Japon : chronologie simplifiée sur le site de japan experience, 23/04/2020. par R.A. Responsable de publication : Thierry MAINCENT https://www.japan-experience.com/fr/preparer-voyage/savoir/histoire-du-japon/histoire-japon-chronologie Prononciation japonaise : https://ttsmp3.com/text-to-speech/Japanese/ Autres références disponibles sur demande.   #histoire #documentaire #japon #histoirejapon #jomon

Join us as we explore the fascinating and multi-faceted history of the polka dot. These innocuous little spots contain multitudes, from technological advancements to a risqué dance craze. If you have any requests or questions, or simply feel like saying hello, drop us a line at ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠historyunhemmedpodcast@gmail.com⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠  and/or follow us on social media: Instagram: @history_unhemmed Facebook: https://m.facebook.com/p/History-Unhemmed-100084597553601/ Support us at: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.patreon.com/historyunhemmed⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ THANK YOU! RESOURCES:  Johns Hopkins University. "Introducing Data Science: Big Data, Machine Learning, and More, Free Online Textbook." https://jscholarship.library.jhu.edu/items/6cf47d49-4968-46ee-a8f9-c7c8c35b55ac. Knox, Charles Henry. The Spirit of the Polka. Legare Street Press, 2023. Kusama, Yayoi and Delphine Arnault, Akira Tatehata, Hans Ulrich Obrist, and Mika Yoshitake. Louis Vuitton Yayoi Kusama. New York: Rizzoli, 2023. Le Tour de France. "The Polka Dot Jersey." https://www.letour.fr/en/the-jerseys-tour-de-france/the-polka-dot-jersey. PBS Western Reserve. "The History of Polka: From Europe to Northeast Ohio." ⁠https://www.pbswesternreserve.org/blogs/luminus-stories-about-us/the-history-of-polka-from-europe-to-northeast-ohio/#:~:text=The%20origins%20of%20polka%20are,day%20Czech%20Republic%20and%20Poland⁠. Stewart, Jude. Patternalia: An Uncovered History of Polka Dots, Stripes, Plaid, Camouflage, and Other Graphic Patterns.  New York: Bloomsbury, 2015.  Welters, Linda and Cunningham, Patricia A. (eds.). Twentieth-century American Fashion. New York: Berg, 2005.  --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/historyunhemmed/support

こんにちは。ジェニのピカピカ日本語へようこそ。 前回のエピソードでは卒業式についてお話ししましたが、今日はYayoiが入学式についてお話いたします。 日本の学校についていろいろな情報をお伝えするのでお楽しみください。 Hello. Welcome to Jenni's Pika Pika Japanese. In the last episode, we talked about the graduation ceremony, and today Yayoi will talk about the entrance ceremony. Please enjoy as I share with you various information about schools in Japan. Hola. Bienvenidos a Pika Pika Japonés de Jeni. En el último episodio hablamos de la ceremonia de graduación, y hoy Yayoi nos hablará de la ceremonia de entrada. Disfrutad mientras os damos todo tipo de información sobre las escuelas en Japón.

This episode we look at the reign of Tamura, aka Jomei Tenno. For references and more, check out https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-105   Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is episode 105: Onsen and Uprisings The general paced back and forth behind the walls of the fortress.  Glancing around, he couldn't help but notice how empty it now seemed.  The palisades were holding, but most of the soldiers had gone, disappearing in the night.  Outside the walls of the fortress, he could hear the Emishi laughing and singing.  They were in good spirits—and why wouldn't they be?  The great army of Yamato sent to chastise them had been routed, and they had besieged them in their fortress, built in these still wild lands of northeastern Honshu, on the edge of an area known to many as Michi no Oku, roughly: the end of the road. And for the general, it looked like this might be the end of the road for him.  His options were limited, and he was clearly outnumbered.  It was beginning to look like his troops had the right idea.  Of course, it meant leaving his wife and other women to fend for themselves, but fear can do a lot to motivate someone.  The general eyed the walls and the trees beyond.  If he could slip past the besieging forces in the darkness, perhaps he could escape.  It wouldn't be the most honorable way out of this situation, but it would at least leave him with his head.  And so, as night fell, he decided to make his move… Greetings everyone, and welcome back!  Before I get into it, a quick shout out an thank you to YamiRaven for supporting us on Patreon, and thanks to Johnny for a supporting us on Ko-Fi.com.  If you'd like to join them, and help us keep this thing going, we'll have more info at the end of the episode. Speaking of: This episode we are going to be talking about events during the reign of Prince Tamura, also known as Okinaga Tarashi-hi Hiro-nuka, or by the name given to him by the 8th century chroniclers: Jomei Tennou.  As we discussed back in episode 103, Prince Tamura came to power in an interesting turn of fate.  The grandson of Nunakura Futodamashiki, aka Bidatsu Tenno, his father, Prince Hikobito no Ohoye was killed during the tumultuous period following Nunakura's death.  After several short-lived reigns, it was Kashikiya Hime, wife to Nunakura, who took the throne, known to us as Suiko Tennou. Kashikiya Hime had named an heir, Crown Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi, but he died before she did and by the time that Kashikiya Hime passed away, there was nobody clearly set up to take the throne, though two candidates did stand out.  There was Prince Yamashiro no Ohoye, the son of Crown Prince Umayado, whom a strict lineal succession might seem to indicate was next up to inherit, but Yamato inheritance tradition was not so cut and dried.  Soga no Emishi, the son of Soga no Umako, the powerful Oho-omi who helped run the government during Kashikiya Hime's reign, campaigned to put Prince Tamura on the throne, rather than Yamashiro no Ohoye, despite—or perhaps because of—the fact that Yamashiro no Ohoye was actually a close relative to Emishi. Now Prince Tamura was on the throne and Soga no Emishi was the Oho-omi, taking his father's place. And yet, despite the chaotic start to the reign in 629, the majority of it was almost tame and nondescript.  Don't get me wrong, Tamura, as I'll keep referring to him, was on the throne for a respectable thirteen years, and during that time there were certainly events that move our narrative forward in many ways.  However, much of the years of his reign are filled with discussions of things like rain storms and celestial phenomena.  In fact, the only thing that apparently happened in all of 634 was that they saw a comet in the sky.  The year before that, in 633, the only entry was the return of envoys from the Tang.  For two years, then, there is hardly a mention of politics and anything else going on.  And yet, this is a period that would set the stage for what was coming next. Shortly after Tamura was appointed sovereign, he appointed his consort, Princess Takara, as his queen.  Takara was, herself, a great-great grand-daughter of Nunakura Futodamashiki, a granddaughter of Prince Hikobito and daughter of Prince Chinu—presumably niece to Tamura, then, which is basically par for the course.  She was also a royal descendant on her mother's side, tracing back to Nunakura's father, Ame Kuniyoshi, aka Kinmei Tennou.  In fact, her mother, Kibitsu Hime, is said to have been buried in her own kofun at the head of Ame Kuniyoshi's kofun—and today it is the site of the 7th century saruishi figures that I mentioned in the talk about traveling around Asuka. Takara would give birth to three children of note.  The first was her eldest son, Prince Katsuraki, who would, spoiler alert, later be known as Crown Prince Naka no Ohoye.  He was around three years old when his father took the throne.  He had a sister by Takara, named Hashibito, and a brother, whose name you may have heard me mention previously:  Oho-ama. Yes, Naka no Ohoye and Oho-ama are the future sovereigns Tenji and Temmu, but for now they are still relatively young.  In fact, Oho-ama wouldn't be born until several years into his father's reign, in 631. Some of the early events of the reign were carryover from Kashikiya Hime's time on the throne.  In 629, for instance, Tanabe no Muraji went to Yakushima, returning the following year, and with people coming to Yamato from Yakushima the year after that. There were also a fair number of foreign embassies, including an Embassy from Goguryeo and Baekje.  These may have been missions of condolences and congratulations—typical international diplomacy at the time when a neighboring ruler passed away and a new one ascended the throne, it would seem.  They arrived in the third month of 630 and departed in the 9th month of that same year—a 6 month visit, all told. We also have the first actual account of ambassadors sent off to the Tang dynasty: Inugami no Mitasuki and Yakushi no E'nichi, each of Dainin rank.  These are some of the first true kentoushi, or Ambassadors to the Tang court, that were sent, but over time their influence would be felt across Yamato and the archipelago. These ambassadors—or at least Mitasuki—would return in 632 with a Tang ambassador, Gao Biaoren, along with student-priests Ryou'un and Soumin, as well as Suguri no Torikahi.  Perhaps most tellingly, they would arrive with Silla escort envoys, which would seem to indicate that passage to the Tang court was not done without Silla's assistance.  As you may recall, Silla had entered into a nominal alliance with the Tang against Goguryeo.  The Tang Ambassadors eventually reached Naniwa, where they were met with boats decked out with drums, flutes, and flags, and where they exchanged formal greetings before being escorted into the official residence.  The Nihon Shoki takes pains to note the different individuals involved in the duties, from the initial greeting, guiding them to the residence, and then preparing them in the residence, along with a welcome drink of sake brewed on temple rice land. And then, three months later, they depart once more.  Nothing else is said of their visit. Meanwhile, in the time between when Mitasuki went to the Tang court and when he returned with Gao Biaoren and company, a few things had happened.  For one we get a note about Tamura moving to a new palace complex known as Okamoto no miya, supposedly at the foot of Asuka hill, hence the name, which means “foot of the hill”.  This would not have been much of a change from Kashikiya Hime's palace, still within the sacred area defined by the Soga temple of Asukadera as well as various other temples being stood up in that area as well.  A move was to be expected, though in this case it is interesting that he didn't go very far. There is also mention, still in 630, of the repairing the official residences in Naniwa where ambassadors from the continent would be quartered during their trips to Yamato 631 opens with something of a treat – so it would seem, anyway.  We are told that in the third month of Tamura's third year on the throne, Prince Pung—named Pungjang in the Chronicles—was sent to the Yamato court by his father, King Wicha of Baekje.  On the one hand, the Korean sources do agree that Prince Pung was, indeed, sent to Yamato, where he would live as a guest and diplomatic hostage.  We've talked about this practice in the past, which seems to have strengthened bonds between nations, although we rarely hear of Yamato returning the favor by sending hostages to the continent.  It may have also helped keep a potential heir out of harm's way in case of a coup or other such politics.  Several times, heirs returned to Baekje to be enthroned with Yamato assistance, if the Chronicles are to be believed. Except that this entry is probably not quite right.  You see, Wicha wouldn't even come to the throne until 641—he wasn't even made Crown Prince until 632—so why would he send his son as a diplomatic hostage in 631?  Johnathan Best, translating the Baekje records of the Samguk Sagi, suggests that perhaps the Chroniclers were off by a factor of 10 or 12 years.  You see, as we mentioned earlier, the East Asian calendrical system was based on a series of ten stems and twelve branches.  The stems represented the elemental forces, and the branches were identified with the twelve signs of the zodiac.  Incrementing each one each year led to a series of 60 years before it started repeating, and based on the way that the records for this reign are dated, it looks like the records the Chroniclers were drawing from used this system for their dates.  However, if you misread—or even miswrite—one of these characters it can change your date by ten or even twelve years.  It would make much more sense for Prince Pung to have arrived twelve years later, in 643.  Similarly, we find other records, particularly having to do with Baekje, which may be a bit jumbled, possibly indicating they came from a similar source that either had things in the wrong chronological order or was simply vague or poorly scribed so that the Chroniclers had to figure out exactly what was happening when—which they may have made mistakes with, from time to time. So Prince Pung arriving as a hostage is probably misplaced, and likely didn't happen during Tamura's reign.  Which means that other than people from Yakushima showing up in 631 the only other major event of the year was Tamura going to the hot springs of Arima, in Settsu, where he stayed for about three months. Now I know I've mentioned hot springs, or onsen, before in the narrative.  After all, the volcanic islands that make up the Japanese archipelago are full of them, and it isn't like they were suddenly discovered during this reign, but it does look like this might be the first formal mention of them in the Nihon Shoki—which gives Arima, in the mountains north of Kobe, some serious bona fides to be considered the oldest known hot spring town in Japan. And that would be a cool side note in most reigns, but for Tamura it seems to have been a habit.  He apparently went for a dip at least three times in his reign—the second time, in 638, he apparently went to the “Arima no Miya”, or the Arima Palace, which suggests that he had something built specifically for his visits.  And then, in 639, he headed to the hot springs in Iyo. The country of Iyo is better known today as Ehime prefecture, on the western edge of the island of Shikoku.  The largest city in Ehime is Matsuyama, home to the famous Dougou Onsen, which also lays a claim to being the oldest operating hot springs in the archipelago.  Dougou Onsen is not only the traditional place in Iyo where Tamura, aka Jomei Tennou, took the waters, as they might say in the west, but in the Iyo Fudoki it is said that its fame goes back even further.  As we mentioned back in Chapter 18, it is said that the legendary figures Ohonamuchi and Sukuna Bikona met there, back in ancient times.  In more recent times, relatively speaking, Dougou Onsen was the inspiration behind the fantastical bathhouse created by Hayao Miyazaki in the Studio Ghibli film, Spirited Away. For all that these visits to the hot springs are somewhat interesting, they don't exactly tell us a lot about what was happening with government, and in fact tend to make it seem almost as though Tamura was skipping out, at least in the fall to early winter.  And to be honest, can you blame him?  Winter is one of the best times to go take advantage of the volcanic springs. Many of the other records appear to be natural phenomena, mostly having to do with the heavens: rain, storms, lightning, and more.  Some of the more intriguing are comets—stars with “long tails” that appeared in the skies.  There are also mentions of eclipse and what may have been a meteor—a star in 636 “floated east to west, with a noise like thunder.”  The Priest Soumin, from the Tang, said it was the sound of the Celestial Dog, a creature from the ancient Han or possibly pre-Qin text, the Classic of Mountains and Seas, a fantastical account of mythical geography and various animals, including the nine tailed fox and the celestial dog, whose bark was said to be like Thunder.  This book was considered to be a true account up through the Tang dynasty. One could probably track the celestial phenomena and see if there is any correlation with known sightings, but it is also just as likely that some of it was taken from continental records and inserted into the Chronicles as appropriate. Besides such phenomena, there were accounts of more missions, especially from Baekje.  Yamato was still using the cap rank system attributed to Prince Umayado during Kashikiya Hime's reign, and some of the envoys were given cap rank, or granted a promotion—a gesture that was likely pure diplomacy, as the rank wouldn't necessarily convey any special rights back in their home country. There are a few more things of note.  First, in 636, we are told that all those who had affairs with the uneme at court were put on trial and punished—which likely means they were put to death.  The uneme, as you may recall, were women sent to serve at the court, and as such they were apparently off-limits, at least while they were serving.  That clearly didn't stop people from having some late night escapades, though. The main reason it likely comes up, though, is that we are told that one of the accused was a man named Miwa no Kimi no Osazaki, and that he took his own life by stabbing himself in the throat because the examination—by which I'm sure they meant torture—was too much to bear.  And here I have to wonder how similar Yamato's sense of justice was to that of their neighbor, the Tang dynasty.  In the case of the latter, there was often a suspicion that any person accused of a crime must be guilty of at least something—after all, why would they have been accused if they didn't do something to upset the peace, even if it was just that they didn't get along with their neighbors.  It was considered de rigeur to submit suspected criminals to torturous ordeals with the idea that this would elicit a confession.  Unfortunately, this idea that harsh and torturous examinations can be used to uncover the truth often still persists, despite evidence that, under enough duress, most people will say anything.   In this case, it drove Osazaki to take his own life. Later in that same year, the Okamoto palace caught fire and burned down, and so Tamura moved to a new palace, called the Tanaka palace, or the Palace in the Middle of the Rice Fields.  We also have a little more court action, as Prince Ohomata, a son of Nunakura Futodamashiki by one of his consorts, reached out to Soga no Emishi—called in this record the Toyoura no Oho-omi, likely because his mansion was in or near Toyoura, in Asuka. Prince Ohomata suggested to Soga no Emishi that the ministers had not been attending court properly.  He suggested that they should be there by roughly 5 or 6 AM—an hour before daybreak—and they should stay until 10 or 11 AM.  Specifically he mentioned the hour of the hare and the hour of the serpent, as each ancient hour was actually two, with twelve hours making up the day, each named for one of the twelve signs of the Asian zodiac. To enforce all of this, Ohomata also recommended having a bell rung that would let people know that it was time to start or end work.  This was all common practice in the continental courts of the day, and it wasn't like they were asking for a modern 40 hour work week, even:  the court ministers would literally be serving for maybe 5 to 6 hours at court, with the rest of the time to handle their own affairs.  Still, Soga no Emishi apparently didn't think much of the idea and so was not inclined to support it. All of this is kind of an odd mention.  First, Ohomata is an obscure Prince—he's only mentioned three times in the Chronicles, and once just in a list of Nunakura's children.  Second, the idea doesn't go anywhere.  Third, they don't call Soga no Emishi by the name they used in both the previous or the next reign, but use Toyora no Ohoomi, for whatever reason.  It just sticks out as odd, and I wonder if it was added to show that Soga no Emishi was resistant to change and new ideas. At the same time, it does give us a clue that Soga no Emishi was still running things.  His name may not have been on a lot, but then again, neither was Tamura's, so we can only infer what was actually going on during this period.  It's  almost a lacuna in the history. There were a few other events worth noting, however, one of which took more than a bit of the Chroniclers' ink, and this was a rebellion by the Emishi people. First off, because it can be confusing:  There is no apparent link between Soga no Emishi and the Emishi people that I'm aware of.  Emishi, of course, is the name given to the people living outside of the Yamato cultural sphere in the northeast, from modern Ibaraki prefecture north.  They were apparently expected to pay tribute at court, and are clearly treated differently from other outside groups, like Baekje and Silla.  Some of them were likely members of the groups that had lived in the region since the Jomon period, who never fully adopted the Yayoi and later Kofun lifeways, and they may be related to the Ainu people who still live in modern Hokkaido, though there is also evidence that some of the Emishi may have been ethnic Wa people who had gone to live outside the Yamato court's reach—though that is more evident in later centuries than in the current narrative. I would also note that “Emishi” is an exonym—that is a name given by outsiders, in this case, by the Wa people of Yamato.  In fact, other than what we can see in the archaeological record, what we know of the Emishi comes from Yamato sources, which are almost entirely biased.  We don't really have any good telling of their story from their own perspective.  For instance,did they feel oppressed by Yamato in general, and not think they should have to keep bringing tribute?  Or was there a more specific event that occurred, much like the conflicts we see later between the Wajin, the ethnic Japanese, and the Ainu up in Hokkaido? It is unclear. To subdue the Emishi, and bring them back under Yamato hegemony, the court appointed Kamitsukeno no Kimi no Katana, a courtier of Dainin cap rank, as general. Spoiler alert: he's the general in the story at the beginning of this episode.  Based on his name, it would seem he was from the family in charge of Kamitsukenu, later shortened to Kozuke Province in modern Gunma prefecture, north of Tokyo.  As such, he would have been well positioned to know something of the Emishi on his border.  That said, he apparently didn't know them so well that it gave him an advantage.  His forces were routed and they retreated back to their fortress, where they were besieged by the Emishi. Now when I say “fortress” please don't picture some grand castle, like Himeji, Azuchi, or Matsumoto.  In fact, don't really picture a castle at all.  More likely than not, this was simply an area enclosed by a wall—possibly some earthworks and maybe a moat, but perhaps just a quickly erected palisade structure.  True castle structures wouldn't come until later.  For those familiar with American history, this may have been something like the fort at Jamestown or even the quickly assembled and ill-fated Fort Necessity—though perhaps a little larger if it was capable of housing the forces and the noncombatants that had accompanied them. And so, when some of Katana's soldiers decided they didn't really want to be there any longer they apparently just up and left.  Presumably they found a time when nobody was looking and just yeeted themselves over the walls and did their best to hide from the surrounding Emishi forces.  Pretty soon just about all of the able-bodied soldiers had taken this approach, and Katana was thinking about joining them.  In fact, he was getting ready to when his own wife noticed what he was doing. That's right, his wife was there with him.  Whether she was a combatant or simply part of the train it isn't entirely clear, but she wasn't going to have her husband run off and abandon his post.  She poured out sake for him to drink and as he did so, she took his sword and girded it to herself.  She then went and found all of the bows and handed them out to all of the other women and people who had been left behind when the soldiers deserted, and they started pulling the bowstrings back and making a sound like they were being shot. Upon seeing this, Katana roused himself, grabbed a weapon himself, and advanced out of the fortress. The besieging Emishi were not sure what to make of this.  They could hear the twang of bows, and it sounded as though there was quite a force, so as general Katana stepped out of the fortress they pulled back, thinking that there was a much bigger force than he actually had.  As they did that, some of Katana's own forces, who had escaped, but not too far, started to gain hope.  They regrouped and attacked the Emishi with fresh energy, eventually defeating them. Of course, Katana's wife remains nameless throughout this whole episode, even though she was the one who helped turn the tide—first by turning her husband, but then by organizing the others to make it seem like they had a lot more people than they did. After this fascinating story, the Chronicles getback to the normal records of storms, of fruit trees blossoming, of hot springs, and tribute.  It wasn't until two years later, in 639, that we get something interesting that we might easily overlook.  This was the start of a new temple on the banks of the Kudara River, known to us as Kudara dera, or Kudara Temple. Kudara Temple is definitely a bit of an enigma.  It is mentioned quite heavily in later records, and yet it would eventually disappear without a trace, or so it seemed.  It wasn't until modern times that archaeologists identified a temple that we believe is Kudara dera.  We are told that it had a nine-story pagoda, which may reflect ideas from Tang or Silla practice—somewhat ironic given that “Kudara” is a name used to refer to Baekje.  In this case, the name seems to have come from the Kudara River, on whose banks the temple was built.  From the 80s through the 2000s there were a series of excavations at the site of Kibi Pond north of Asuka, closer to the center of Sakurai.  Here a temple was found, which we believe to be the site of Kudara dera.  The pond itself was dug at a later point in time, on the site of the temple, which was likely moved.  Today, there is a small Kudara temple to the northwest of the old site, but it isn't nearly as grand as it once was. By all accounts, the construction of Kudara temple took years, in contrast to the building of royal palaces, which went up relatively quickly.  This is because the palaces, for all of their size, were still being made using largely local construction methods.  Posts were placed directly into the ground and the roofs were thatched.  Being made of wood, these buildings went up relatively quickly, which was good seeing as how every reign the sovereign and court would move to a new palace.  Of course, I also wonder if the tradition of moving didn't come from the fact that the palace would likely have started rotting away on its own after a while.  Then again, even in a single reign you might change palaces multiple times, as Tamura did. In contrast, we have temple construction from the mainland.  Here, rocks were set down, and the posts were placed on those, which gave a firm foundation and prevented water from easily getting in and ruining the base of the pillar.  Packed earth and stone construction were used in places, along with heavy tile roofs, for which thousands of rooftiles had to be constructed.  Centuries of architectural knowledge were used to design and create structures that were meant to outlast any patrons who helped to build them. Add on to that the nine story pagoda.  If you consider that the beautiful and imposing tenshukaku, or main keep, of Himeji castle, built in the early 17th century, is six stories and rises over 46 meters, or about 152 feet, this pagoda may have been about the same height or even a bit higher, assuming that relative proportions were similar to those in other pagodas from the time, such as that of Yakushiji.  It must have been a towering beacon at the time, and the temple is considered one of the four great temples of the Asuka era, at least by some. That this temple was commissioned by Tamura and not by Soga no Emishi is something that may indicate some unspoken tensions at the time.   Tamura's previous palaces were in Asuka, near Asuka temple, the chief temple of the Soga family, and situated in a Soga stronghold.  Kudara temple was built significantly outside of this area, though still within walking distance, so not so far as to be a complete move—it isn't like he moved it up to lake Biwa or anything, wink wink. In 640, Tamura returned from his trip to the hot springs in Iyo—again, modern Ehime prefecture—and came back to a new palace at Umayazaka, but just six months later he moved into the Kudara palace, which was presumably nearby Kudara temple, effectively moving the court out of—or at least to the periphery of—Soga controlled territory. Unfortunately, his stay at Kudara palace would only last about a year, as he passed away there in the 10th month of 641.  He was roughly 48 years old.  His son, and heir apparent, Prince Hirakasuwake, aka Naka no Oe, pronounced the funeral elegy. And just like that, the throne was vacant again.  There was an heir apparent, but Naka no Oe was only 16 years old, and so his mother, Takara, would take the throne, presumably until he was ready.  She would be known as Ame Toyo Takara Ikashi-hi Tarashi Hime, aka Kougyoku Tennou, and her reign was anything but quiet.  To give some context: if we had a little over 50 or so events recorded during the 13 years that Tamura was on the throne, while we have over 60 events recorded in just the first year of Takara's reign.   So, you know, there's that. But I'm going to have to ask you to wait a little bit for us to dig into that.  For one thing, the politics are going to start getting hot and heavy, as anyone who may recognize the name “Naka no Oe” likely knows.  As this young prince was coming into his own he was going to come face to face with the power of the Soga family.  All that, starting next episode. Until then, thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for her work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

こんにちは。ジェニのピカピカ日本語へようこそ。 今の時期は日本では卒業式シーズンです。 卒業式はなにを着て参加するのでしょうか？ 今日は日本語教師のYayoiがいろいろな側面から日本の卒業式をご紹介いたします。 Hello. Welcome to Jenni's Pika Pika Japanese. This time of year is graduation season in Japan. What do you wear to the graduation ceremony? Today, Yayoi, a Japanese language teacher, will introduce various aspects of graduation ceremonies in Japan. Hola. Bienvenidos a Jenni's Pika Pika Japanese. En esta época del año es temporada de graduaciones en Japón. ¿Qué te pones para la ceremonia de graduación? Hoy, la profesora de japonés Yayoi nos presentará varios aspectos de las ceremonias de graduación japonesas.

こんにちは。ジェニのピカピカ日本語へようこそ。 今日は、これから日本でシーズンを迎えるさくらについて、DCECの日本語講師のYayoiが紹介いたします。日本で桜を見る前に聞くとためになることがいっぱいです。 Hello. Welcome to Jenni's Pika Pika Japanese. Today, Yayoi, a Japanese teacher at DCEC, will introduce you to the upcoming cherry blossom season in Japan. There are a lot of useful things you can hear before you see cherry blossoms in Japan. Hola. Bienvenidos a Pika Pika Japonés de Jenni. Hoy, Yayoi, profesora de japonés en DCEC, les presentará la próxima temporada de florecimiento de los cerezos en Japón. Hay muchas cosas útiles que puedes escuchar antes de ver los cerezos en flor en Japón.

ジェニのピカピカ日本語へようこそ。 今日は、DCEC NCの日本語先生のやよいが自己紹介の仕方をご紹介します。 やよいさんは、ネパールに住んでいる日本人の日本語先生です。 これからたくさん登場してもらうのでよろしくお願いします。 では、自己紹介エピソードをお楽しみください。 Welcome to Jenni's Pika Pika Japanese. Today, Yayoi, a Japanese teacher at DCEC NC, will show you how to introduce yourself. Yayoi is a Japanese teacher of Japanese living in Nepal. We are going to have a lot of appearances from now on, so please do not hesitate to ask her for help. Now, please enjoy the self-introduction episode. Bienvenidos a Jenni's Pika Pika Japanese. Hoy, Yayoi, profesora de japonés en DCEC NC, te enseñará cómo presentarte. Yayoi es una profesora de japonés que vive en Nepal. Vamos a tener muchas apariciones a partir de ahora, así que muchas gracias. Ahora, por favor, disfruten del episodio de auto-presentación.

It's the first Takoyaki Party of 2024 and we spend almost half of it catching up on 2023! We go over the voting results from the Golden Takoyaki Awards, talk about NMB's drama for normies Idol Shikkaku, share our highlights from YNN's 24hr stream, talk about NMB's New Year to go WORLDWIDE, tour NMB's Costume Exhibition, and we evaluate 9th gen's first year with the group. Beware! You have entered the Hot Takes Zone!   If you have a question or comment for the podcast, you can leave it in the comments section on Youtube, or email us at nmbtakoyaki.party@gmail.com   If you want to join the REAL NMB48 International Fan Club here is the discord link.   http://discord.gg/nmbfans     0:00 - Intro 3:55 - Golden Takoyaki Awards results 26:00 - Maeda Reiko graduation announcement 35:01 - Idol Shikkaku gets a drama adaptation 58:48 - YNN 24hr Stream Highlights 1:06:55 - New Year's Show and Theater Megami Ranking 1:08:45 - New Group Visual Image Senbatsu Members 1:20:54 - Special Theater Ticket Sales for Inbound Overseas Tourists 1:26:03 - International Fan Club Site for International NMB Fans Announced 1:27:55 - 10th Generation Auditions Announced 1:29:05 - New Original NMB Theater Stage Announced 1:31:44 - 29th Single Announced for Spring… no further details 1:32:23 - Mocchan finally graduated! 1:33:37 - Misaki is going to study abroad in England! 1:41:17 - NMB at Japan Idol Fes 1:42:54 - Kojirin had her solo concert 1:45:37 - Yayoi is in a play, Geoff will tell us all about it 1:49:40 - 9th Gen 1st Anniversary Show and 1st year in review

This episode we will finish up with many of the smaller episodes in the reign of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tenno.  Most of these are mentions of various public works projects, omens, expansion of the realm, and a couple of other stories, some more believable than others. As usual, more information can be found at https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-101 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua, and this is Episode 101: Ponds, Peaches, and Thunder-gods. First off, a big thanks to Red and Ryan for helping to support the site and our show.  If you would like to join them, we'll have more information at the end of the episode, or check out our website at sengokudaimyo.com. When we last left off, we were going through some of the more random events that happened in the reign of Kashikiya Hime, aka Suiko Tennou. and we're going to continue with that this episode, touching on some of the things that happened in the latter part of her reign, starting in about 613 and going from there—and some of this is more exciting than others.  I'll try to hit the high points, but some of this will be familiar if you've been listening along. For example, one of the THRILLING things we'll start with (at least if you are a frog) is the building of ponds.  In the winter of 613, we are told that the ponds of Waki no Kami, Unebi, and Wani were constructed.  We've seen the construction of ponds since at least the time of Mimaki Iribiko, aka Sujin Tennou, the purported “first” sovereign, from around the probable time of Queen Himiko.  The exact nature of these ponds doesn't seem to be known, but one theory is that they are for irrigation of rice paddies in places where the water wasn't consistently sufficient for everyone's needs—a pond would allow for water to be gathered up throughout the year and then released when it was needed for the rice paddies.  More ponds may have indicated the opening of more fields, indicating continued growth.Ponds also had other uses, however, including breeding fish, and they were a habitat for birds, so this would also help encourage hunting and fishing.  Finally, the ponds were public utilities, and part of the way the Court flexed their power as they raised levies for the ponds' construction.  We might also say something about the way they indicated a certain amount of control over the land – but of course, most of these ponds are in the Nara basin and Kawachi regions, and so it doesn't tell us a whole lot more than what we already know about the centralized control there.  They were important enough, however, that by the 8th century the creation of these ponds was still being tracked and attributed to specific rulers. If you're wondering what it might have been like to travel around in this period of Japan, you might be more interested in the fact that in the same line about the ponds, we are also told that a Highway was built from Asuka to Naniwa.  This is believed to be the path of the ancient Takeuchi Kaidou in Kawachi, which some of the literature  claims is the “oldest official road” in Japan.  This road  connects to the Yoko-ohoji in Nara, which links the modern city of Sakai, near Ohosaka, with the city of Katsuraki, and presumably it then connected with other paths down to Asuka.    I suspect that the “official” qualifier is in there is because we have evidence of when it was made, whereas other roads and highways, such as the old highway along the foot of the mountains on the eastern edge of the Nara Basin, are perhaps even more ancient, but are simply mentioned, without evidence of how or when they were created—they may have been more organic footpaths that came to be heavily traveled, or just created with no record of who and when. This new highway was notable for connecting the port at Naniwa to the current capital and to the newly built temples in the Asuka area, as well. These temples were new institutions, but they were also fairly permanent structures, unlike even the palace buildings, which were still expected to be rebuilt each reign.  Of course, they could be moved—and were, in later periods—but it was going to take some doing.  That said, there were other permanent structures and religious sites—heck, many of the kami were associated with mountains, and you couldn't exactly move those, though they did have the ability to build sacred spaces elsewhere and bring the kami to them, so you weren't exactly tied to the physical geography.  And there were the giant kofun, but I'm not sure how often people were going to the kofun to worship the ancient kings and other elites, other than perhaps family members paying their respects.  The building of a highway to the capital alone would probably be an interesting flex, since the next sovereign could move somewhere else entirely.  But the temples were intended to be relatively permanent institutions, as far as I can tell, so even if the capital did move, the fact that there was a road there was probably going to be a big boon to the area. Of course it probably didn't hurt that this area was also a Soga stronghold, and so at least the Soga family would continue to benefit, which may have gone into *some* of the political calculus, there. It was also going to help with envoys to and from the continent.  And that leads us along to the next item of note about Kashikiya-hime's reign: sure enough, in the sixth month of the following year, Inugami no Kimi no Mitasuki and Yatabe no Miyatsuko were sent on a new embassy to the Sui court.  By the way, quick note on these two.  Inugami no Mitatsuki is given the kabane of “kimi”.  If you recall, the sovereign is “Oho-kimi”, or “Great Kimi”, and so “Kimi” is thought to be an important title, possibly referring to a high-ranking family that held sway outside of the immediate lands of Yamato, and Yatabe is given to us as “Miyatsuko”, also generally referring to one of the higher ranks of nobility under the kabane system—though not necessarily the inner court families of the Omi and the Muraji.  It is unclear whether those kabane were in use at the time, but it does indicate that the families were important.  An ancestor of the Inugami first shows up in the reign of Okinaga Tarashi Hime, aka Jingu Kougou, which is interesting as there are some who claim that the stories of that reign really solidified around the time of Kashikiya Hime, which is to say the current reign.  We'll get more into that in a future episode, but for now we can note that the Inugami family doesn't really seem to show up after that until this reign, and from here on out we see them as one of the regular interlocutors with the continent, whether the Sui, Tang, or on the Korean peninsula. The Yatabe are much more enigmatic.  Other than this entry, we don't have a lot.  There is an ancestor, Takemorosumi, mentioned in the reign of Mimaki Iribiko, aka Sujin Tennou, and there is some reasonable thought that they may have been set up for the maintenance of Princess Yata, the wife of Ohosazaki no Mikoto, aka Nintoku Tennou, but I don't see any clear indication one way or the other.  They aren't really mentioned again except as a family during the late 7th century. These two, Inugami no Mitatsuki and the unnamed envoy of the Yatabe family, would return a year later, bringing with them an envoy from Baekje.  Later in the year they would throw the envoy an elaborate feast.  We aren't given much else, but seems like relations were good. Shortly after the feast for the Baekje envoy, however, the monk Hyeja—or Eiji, in the Japanese reading—returned to his home in Goguryeo.  Hyeja had been one of the teachers of none other than Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi himself, and the two are said to have shared a special bond.  Shotoku Taishi eventually became Hyeja's equal, and it is said that they both discussed Buddhist teachings and philosophy together, with Hyeja appreciating Shotoku Taishi's unique insights.  When Prince Umayado eventually passed at an all too early age, the news reached Hyeja on the peninsula and he held a special feast in his student-turned-peer's honor.  They say that he then predicted his own death, one year later, on the anniversary of Shotoku Taishi's own passing. But that was still to come.  For now, you could say that everything was peachy—and so they did… sort of, in the next item of note.  What they actually said was that in the first month of 616, at the beginning of Spring, the Peach and Plum trees bore fruit, which may seem an odd thing to comment on.  However, Peach and Plum tress flowering or fruiting would be something that the Chroniclers commented on for at least the next two reigns, as well as in the reign of Oho-ama, aka Temmu Tennou, in the 7th century. It is possible that they were commenting on how they were fruiting out of season—the peach, or momo, in Japanese, blossoms between late March and mid-April.  This is around the same time as the plum, in this case the Sumomo, rather than the “ume” plum, sometimes called a Japanese apricot.  Momo and Sumomo would blossom towards the start of spring, and so it might be possible for them to blossom around the first month of the New Year, especially if that was a little later than it might be today, but highly unlikely that they would be fruiting.  Assuming they were talking about the blossoms—and some later accounts explicitly call out the flowers instead—it may have indicated a particularly warm winter or early spring season that year.  It is also possible that the Chroniclers were off on the dates at times, and so may have made some mistakes. It is also possible that they were recounting an odd event—having the peach trees and plum trees fruit or blossom at the obviously wrong time would likely have generated some concern, and thus be worthy of noting down as an omen.  It is also possible that this is part of a stock phrase that was used to indicate something else, like the start of Spring or a good or bad omen.  Peaches were thought to keep away evil spirits and it was said that they were the fruit of immortality in the western paradise of the Queen Mother of the West.  Peaches are often common decorations on Buddhist temples, as well—going back to the same stories about warding off evil and longevity. Whatever the reason, the blooming and fruiting of peach and plum trees was particularly important to the Chroniclers for this period—for whatever reason. Beyond the talk of peaches, in 616 there was something else, something fairly simple, but apparently important:  Men from the island of Yaku arrived as immigrants. This is the first mention of Yaku Island, and if you haven't heard of it I wouldn't blame you.  It is an island south of modern Kagoshima, off the southern tip of Kyuushuu, and just west of another famous island, that of Tanegashima.  Yakushima, today, is known for its status as a UNESCO World Heritage Site—so classified for its incredible natural beauty.  It is the home to some truly ancient cedars, with some thought to date back as far as 2300 years ago, well into the Yayoi era.  It is mentioned in the Nihon Shoki as well as Sui dynasty records, and in numerous other travel accounts since. We have evidence of human activity going back at least 17,000 years ago, so before even the Jomon era, though the earliest evidence of habitation on the island is more like 6,000 years ago—about 500 to a thousand years after the famous Akahoya eruption, which devastated Kyushu and which we discussed back in episode 4.  Yakushima would also have been devastated, situated as it is just south of the Kikai caldera, and it was likely devastated by pyroclastic flows along with its neighboring islands.  Since then, it was populated by people that were now, in the 7th century, making contact with the people of Yamato—perhaps indicating that Yamato had even further expanded its reach. Over the course of the year 616 the Chronicles note several groups of immigrants from Yaku Shima.  First was a group of three men who came as immigrants in the third month.  Then seven more arrived two months later.  Two months after that, you had a group of twenty show up.  They were all settled together in a place called Eno'i.  It isn't exactly clear where this is.  Some sources suggest that they came to the Dazaifu in Kyushuu, and so were settled somewhere on Kyuushuu, possibly in the south of the island.  There is also a connection with the name “Enoi” coming out of Mino, in the form of the Enoi family, which the Sendai Kuji Hongi says was an offshoot of the Mononobe family. Wherever they ended up, they stayed there for the rest of their lives. We aren't done with Yaku Island, though.  Four years later, we are told that two men of Yaku were “cast away”—which I suspect means banished—to the island of Izu, Izu-no-shima.  Once again, we are left wondering exactly where that is, though it may refer not to an island, at least not entirely, but to Izu no Kuni, the land of Izu, on the Izu Peninsula.  Aston suggests that perhaps at this time “shima” didn't mean just an island, but any place that was mostly surrounded by water, including a peninsula like Izu.  It could also mean one of the nearby islands, such as Ooshima, the largest of the islands to the east of the Izu peninsula. Nine years later, in the reign of the succeeding sovereign, Yamato sent an envoy, Tanabe no Muraji, to the island of Yaku.  I suspect that this was part of making the island an official part of the country. Records of the island fall off for a bit, but it does get mentioned, along with neighboring Tanegashima, in the reign of Temmu Tennou, in the latter part of the 7th century.  To be fair, the Nihon Shoki only continues until 696, but we continue to see them in the Shoku Nihongi, the continuation of the court historical records.  Sure, Yakushima was probably never going to be a huge story from a political perspective, but it does give us some insight into just how far Yamato's influence reached at this point. Going back to the record, we have another fruit related account.  This time it is about an enormous gourd coming out of Izumo—one as big as a, well… we aren't exactly sure.  The character they use is read “kan”, and today often refers to aluminum cans and the like, but that is a relatively recent meaning, if you'd believe it.  In the 7th and 8th century it was probably something more like “pou” and may have meant an earthenware pot for storing alcohol, like the Greek amphorae, or it may have been in reference to a kind of musical instrument.  Either way, we are talking a pretty good sized gourd.  Not sure if it would take a ribbon in some of today's largest pumpkin contests, but still, impressive for the time. Moving beyond the State Fair category of entries, we come to one of my favorite events.  It takes place, we are told, in 618, when Kawabe no Omi was sent to the land of Aki to build ships.  He went with his crews up into the mountains to fell timber when he met with something extraordinary, which was still being depicted in paintings centuries later, although most people probably haven't heard the story. Now the name Kawabe first shows up as the location of one of the Miyake, or royal granaries and administrative centers set up in the land of Ki, south of Yamato on the peninsula, in 535.  The first record of a person by the name, however, is less than auspicious:  It was the assistant general Kawabe no Nihi, who is panned by the Chroniclers for his actions during the reign of Amekunioshi.  As we discussed in Episode 82, Kawabe snatched defeat from the jaws of victory due to his lack of military expertise. This next mention of a Kawabe family member is coming a good many years later, but the family does seem to have recovered somewhat.  Kawabe no Omi no Nezu would be appointed a general several years later—and that could be the same Kawabe no Omi from this story, as there was only about seven or so years between events.  Furthermore, members of the family would find themselves in the middle of some of the most impactful events of the court, indicating their high status.  Multiple family members would be remembered and memorialized in the histories over the rest of the century, whether for better or for ill.  Which makes it a little interesting to me that the story of this Kawabe family ship builder does not give us a personal name of any kind. Now, later interpretations of this particular story would say that this Kawabe no Omi was out building ships on the orders of Prince Shotoku Taishi himself, though the Nihon Shoki would seem to indicate that he was out there, instead, at the behest of the sovereign herself, Kashikiya Hime.  Of course, given what the Nihon Shoki has to say about Shotoku Taishi's contributions to running the government, it could be either one.  Regardless, he had a job to do.  He searched through the forest and he found suitable trees for the timber he needed:  in all likelihood he was looking for large, straight trees, which would have a good grain and not so many knots to cause problems.  I suspect that older trees were likely preferable for the task.  Having found what he was looking for he marked it and they began to chop down the marked trees. Suddenly a man appeared—a stranger, or perhaps just a local coming to see what all the fuss was about.  He warned Kawabe no Omi and his men that the tree they had marked was a “thunder tree” and it shouldn't be cut.  To this Kawabe no Omi asked: “Shall even the thunder-god disobey the royal commands?”  However, he didn't just barrel on with the task.  Instead, he and his men started by offering mitegura, offerings of cloth.  This was likely done to appease any spirits before the crew got started, and I wonder if this was something exceptional, or perhaps something that people regularly did, especially when you were taking large, older trees.  It isn't clear, but an 8th century crowd no doubt understood the significance.  Once they had finished providing recompense to the kami, they went about their task. Suddenly, out of nowhere, it began to rain.  As the water poured down from the sky, thunder and lightning came crashing down.  Apparently the offering had *not* been accepted, and the kami was now quite angry.  While his men sought shelter, Kawabe no Omi drew out his iron sword and held it aloft, crying out to the angry kami:  “O Kami of Thunder, do not harm these men!  I am the one that you want!”  So saying, sword held aloft in the midst of this unexpected thunderstorm, he stood there, watching the roiling clouds, and waiting.  Ten times the lightning flashed and crashed around them, the thunder rolling each time.  One can only imagine the sight as Kawabe no Omi stood there, wind whipping his hair and clothes as he challenged the storm.  And yet, try as it might, the thunderous lightning did not strike Kawabe no Omi.  Finally, the lightning stopped, and Kawabe no Omi was still unharmed. As the men came out of hiding, they noticed a disturbance.  Above them, there was movement, and the men saw the strangest thing:  Up in the branches of the tree was a small fish.  Near as anyone could reckon, the god had turned visible, taking the form of a fish, and so Kawabe no Omi caught the fish and burnt it.  After that, they were able to safely harvest the rest of the timber and build the ships. While we may have some doubts as to the veracity of the story, or may even wonder if a particularly violent storm hadn't picked up fish from a nearby water source, an event that has been known to happen, it still holds some clues about how the people of the time thought and how they believed the world worked.  Even today, older trees and even rocks are thought to house spirits.  In some cases, shrines are built up, and people will worship the spirit of a particular tree or rock, so it isn't so far fetched to think that they were harvesting ancient trees that were believed by locals to contain some kind of spirit, which, if aroused, could bring serious harm to Kawabe no Omi and his men.  This is probably why they made their offering in the first place, hoping that would be enough to placate the spirit. At the same time, we see them drawing on the power of the sovereign, who isn't even present.  Kawabe no Omi's protection is in that he is following the sovereign's commands, and that alone is his shield.  Heck, he even goes so far as to raise up his sword.  I know we are still an eon from Ben Franklin and his kite, but I'm pretty sure that people had figured out certain things about lightning, beyond just “don't be out in it”, namely “don't wave around pointy metal things in the middle of a storm”. As for the symbolism of the kami turning into a fish, well, who knows just how kami think about these things?  They don't always do things that make sense.  For instance, there is one story where a man prayed for a boat, and the kami gave him one, but put it on top of a nearby mountain.  Maybe they just weren't that accurate, or maybe they didn't quite get how the visible world works, sometimes.  It is also possible that the kami turned itself into a helpless fish on purpose, as a sign that it was giving up, since it clearly had not been able to best Kawabe no Omi, and the burning of the fish may have also had some significance. Whatever the reason, the boats were built and not even the kami could defy the will of the sovereign. Now there were a few other things that happened the following year—more strange and bizarre happenstances.  The first was the on the fourth day of the fourth month, when there came a report of a creature shaped like a man in the Kamo river in Afumi.  Who knows what it was?  Perhaps it was some kind of kappa or other river spirit.  Or perhaps it was some stranger skinny-dipping and he just really put everyone off.  Or it was just a weird log viewed from the wrong angle.  Whatever the reason, the people were put off, and Aston notes that this was probably considered an inauspicious omen. Then, in the 7th month, a fisherman from the land of Settsu caught something in one of the manmade canals, or horie, in the area of modern Osaka.  The creature he caught was part fish and part man—perhaps that same creature that had been seen three months earlier further upriver, like some kind of ancient Yamato mermaid.  What exactly did it mean, though?  Certainly it seems a strange occurrence, but was it considered a good or bad omen?  Or was it just weird and strange? The following year, there was a shape in the sky.  The Chroniclers say it was red, shaped like a rooster tail, and over a rod—about ten feet or so—in length.  Perhaps this was a rogue cloud, being kissed by the red light of the rising or setting sun.  Or perhaps it was something else entirely.  These were the kinds of things that were likely seen as omens, though whether a good or bad omen, who could say?  A fishman in the rivers?  A red glowing light in the sky?  Often it wouldn't be until later that such things would be pieced together. In this case, the omens were likely pretty dire, as in that same year we are told that none other than Prince Umayado—Shotoku Taishi himself—grew ill, and passed away.  The whole of the realm mourned their collective loss.  The Crown Prince of the Upper Palace, heir to the throne of Yamato, was dead.  So yeah, I would say those were some pretty bad omens. Umayado's death would leave a real void.  Where there had once been certainty of succession, the land was back in the chaos of wondering what would happen when Kashikiya Hime finally passed away.  Would they be returned to a state of civil war for the throne?  Who could say?  And there was more.  The continent was also in a state of uncertainty, as only recently, the Sui dynasty had been overthrown, and now the new Tang was in its place.  In addition, a resurgent Silla on the Korean peninsula was getting ever more bold and sure of its own power.  There were many things to be concerned about. But let's not leave it on such a note.  We can cover all of that in future episodes—we really don't have time to go over all of it here.  But there is one other story I'd like to leave you with this episode. You see, a little earlier that year—the same year that Umayado passed away—the Yamato court had finished covering the tomb of Hinokuma with pebbles.  Although the kofun, today, are often overgrown, and seem as much like wooded hills as anything else, back in the day there would have been no mistaking their manmade origins.  The ground was cleared and tamped down into place.  The sides rose in distinct terraces, and the surface was covered in stones.  Around it would be the clay and wood haniwa.  Families were employed to keep the kofun, and likely refreshed them from time to time.  In the case of Hinokuma, recall that earlier in the reign Kitashi Hime, Kashikiya Hime's mother, had been re-interred with her husband.  This was likely further ceremonies for her, perhaps the culmination of years of work on the tomb.  We are also told that earth was piled up onto a hill, and each family erected a wooden pillar.  One official, Yamato no Aya no Sakanoue no Atahe, decided to go all out.  Maybe he didn't get the memo.  Or maybe he thought he would make a name for himself.  Either way, brought in the largest pillar—larger than any other of the family heads that were present. And, well, he did make a name for himself, though perhaps not the name he wanted.  That name was Ohohashira no Atahe, or the Atahe of the Giant Pillar.  Probably not exactly what he was going for, but there you have it.  By the way, if you recognize that name, Sakanoue, then you may have noticed that yes, this is likely an ancestor of the famous Sakanoue no Tamuramaro, a famous warrior of the late Nara and early Heian period, and the second person ever to carry the title of Sei-i Taishogun—but that is still over a century and a half away. For now, in the coming episodes, we'll finish up the reign of Kashikiya Hime, perhaps touch briefly on what was happening on the continent, and continue on as we make our way through the latter part of the seventh century. Until then, thank you for listening and for all of your support. If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  Thank you, also, to Ellen for her work editing the podcast. And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.

Is this the final episode of ‘We Appreciate Manga'? I guess we will have to see… Either way James has an announcement to make but first we give a quick review of Godzilla minus one and talk about side chapters of Petshop of Horrors. Skip chapter summaries @ 15:01   Intro music courtesy of Liam Bradbury Outro music courtesy of Rifti Beats - Youtube     Email: WeAppreciateManga@Gmail.com   136: Petshop of Horrors: Flowers and Detective By Akino Matsuri Translation by Tomoharu Iwo and James Lucas Jones Lettering by Nunu Ngien   In the additional chapters, young Chris Orcot treks out into the labyrinthine back rooms of the petshop to find out Q-Chan's human form. Unlike the rest of the Pets in Count D's shop, who appear as human to Chris, Q-Chan only appears as a Wolperdinger, a horned rabbit like creature with wings. As Chris explores the hidden rooms, he meets a grim looking figure who obliges him but unfortunately for Chris, the remedy he acquires has no such desired effect on Q-Chan.   Another chapter shows a Totetsu (a mixed goat and tiger creature) by the name of T-Chan. T-Chan is looking down in the dumps before Leon finds out that it is because he is in love with one of D's new pets. Leon and the gang help him pluck up the courage but because of T-Chan's proclivity to eat the one he loves it results in T-Chan being rejected. It becomes a bonding experience for both Leon and T-chan.   The Flowers and detective chapters feature the police detective Leon Orcot, D does not trust Leon enough to take care of pets so he gifts him a gatolatto plant.  The plant grows well thanks to Leon's appreciation and care but eventually Leon is wounded from a gunshot and is hospitalized. On his miraculous recovery he asks D to water his plant for him, only to be told that the flower has already bloomed and withered to death in his place. Was it really the plant that saved Leon? D has given people stranger things.   Part two, has D playing matchmaker only for Leon to interfere and end up winning the affection of beautiful creatures. What Leon does not realise is that he is being used to pollinate women. Like a honey bee!   Part three includes a strange kimono arriving at the pet shop. With the Kimono's colour representing Sakura (cherry blossom) but being made from the blood of insects. And in the last chapter that we speak of today, we see Chris sent on an errand but D and Leon spy on him using cameras and disguises, very much like the Reality TV show ‘Old Enough!' (a.k.a. its literal translation ‘My First Errand') Afterwards they spend the night gazing at the full moon and D tells Chris of the rabbit in the moon, and the princess whose kingdom has become extinct. Chris tells D that maybe the rabbit princess is still on the moon and is just hiding.   Topics:   ·       Thoughts on Godzilla Minus One and Hollywood. ·       Pareidolia, do you see a rabbit, a woman, or a man when you look at the moon? ·       The future of the We Appreciate Manga Podcast.       Historical, scientific, and cultural references:     ·       The cherry blossom looking dye in one story is often used as a food colouring can trigger allergies, look for anything labelled carminic acid, carmine or cochineal on red coloured foods. ·       Unlike the west Chinese and Asians countries tend to say there is a rabbit in the moon, not a man in the moon. Some when they look at a full moon, say the image is a silhouette of a rabbit hunched over and is mixing herbs, creating an elixir for immortality. (Personally, I like to think that its churning butter but some Japanese may say it is pounding rice cake mixture - J) Depending on the sun's position and your position on the earth if you were to Look at the dark spots of the moon you will find that the sea of fertility and the sea of nectar are the tips of its ears.   Osamu Tezuka retells the origin story in the first volume of his 1972-1983 manga ‘Buddha' where an old man asks three animals to help him find food. One of the three animals then dives into fire and gives its life so that the old man does not starve. Because of its sacrifice it is then honoured by the God Indra and immortalised by having its image drawn on the moon.   ·       Chang'e the Chinese moon goddess is a figure that dates to Zhou Dynasty, and having had poems written about her during the Tang Dynasty.   ·       The rabbit princess or moon princess also has similarities to princess Kaguya, the main character who appears in ‘The Tale of the Bamboo Cutter' a late 9th of 10 century story with no attributed author. Sailor Moon is also based on this character and because of the tale's use of space travel, it is considered an early form of science fiction.   ·       The story of the shamanistic princess Himeko is not necessarily pre-historic as Will states but certainly an ancient Japanese one, having dated back to years between 220 and 270 (Yayoi period). As a legendary figure Himeko appears in the first volume of Osamu Tezuka's ‘Phoenix' and the Yoshiki Okamoto (Buroson) manga ‘Lord'.   ·       Utsuro – Bune (Hollow Boat) is a legendary account of an unidentified object arriving on the shores of the Hitachi province of Japan in 1803.   Facebook Instagram X Official Website   Email     To see “Jim make a manga” follow the Mastodon or you can try…   …Instagram (Jim_makes_a_manga)   …Bluesky   …And Twitter / X (@RealJamesFitton)

This episode, we look at the rise of the Sui Dynasty and the famous interactions between Yamato and the Sui Dynasty, recorded in the histories of each state. For more, check out the podcast webpage:  https://sengokudaimyo.com/podcast/episode-96 Rough Transcript Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.  My name is Joshua and this is Episode 96: From the Land Where the Sun Rises. Once again, we are still talking about the reign of Kashikiya Hime,   from the late 6th to early 7th century.  This time, though, we are going to take a quick diversion from Yamato and first look at what was going on over on the continent, in the  area of the Yellow and Yangzi River Basins—the area of the so-called “middle country”.  This is, after all, where a lot of the philosophy and other things that the archipelago was importing came from, so what was going on over there? Back in Episode 73, ee talked about the various northern and southern dynasties in the Yellow and Yangzi River Basins.  To sum up, during that period, the eastern area of modern China was split between a variety of dynasties, many of them short-lived, and many of them—especially in the north—were dynasties from outside of the main Han ethnic group. Up through the early 580's, the dynasty in charge of the Yellow River region was the Northern Zhou, one of the many dynasties in the north descended from the nomadic Xianbei ethnic groups.  Though their aristocracy was a mix of multiple ethnicities that had intermarried over the years, the Northern Zhou celebrated their Xianbei roots, often to the detriment of ethnic Han groups.  They had inherited the territory of the Western Wei, including much of the central Yangzi region down to Sichuan.  They then defeated the Northern Qi in 577 and claimed dominion over all of the Yellow River region in the north of modern China.  Their only rival was the Chen dynasty, along the eastern reaches of the Yangzi river, but the Chen themselves were relatively weak, and it was only the power struggles within the Northern Zhou court that kept them from wiping out the Chen completely. In 581, the Northern Zhou suffered a coup d'etat. Yang Jian was a Northern Zhou general, and his family, the Yang clan, had Han origins but had intermarried with the Xianbei as well, creating a truly mixed lineage. Jian also held some sway at court, and was known as the Duke of Sui—his daughter was the Empress Dowager, and her stepson was the young Emperor Jing.  In 581 Yang Jian usurped power from his step-grandson, the child emperor Jing, and placed himself on the throne, taking the name Emperor Wen of Sui, using his previous title as the name of the new dynasty. He killed off fifty-nine princes of the previous Northern Zhou, and began to consolidate his power.  By 587, he had strengthened his position, and by 588 invasion of the Chen territories began under Prince Yang Guang.  By 589, the Chen were defeated and any attempts at rebellion were put down, giving the Sui dynasty full control of northern and southern regions—from the Yellow and Yangzi Rivers down to the Sichuan basin.  Although, as I noted, the Yang family had intermarried with the Xianbei families of the Northern Zhou, they still retained some connection with their Han roots, and Emperor Wen won over the Han Confucian scholars with reforms to the rank system and at least a nod towards getting rid of nepotism and corruption that had taken hold in the Northern Zhou and previous dynasties.  He reinstituted Han dynasty titles and restored the nine rank system.  He also reinstituted a system of impartial judges to seek out talent and moved towards the idea of an examination system—something that would really take hold in later centuries. Furthermore, while he set himself up in the northern capital of Daxingcheng, aka Chang'an, he helped rebuild the southern capital, naming it Dayang.  He also supported Buddhism and Daoism.  He became a patron of southern Buddhist monasteries, and recognized major temples as state-sponsored institutions—a far cry from the suppression attempts in the north in 574 and 578. Emperor Wen also worked on repairing canals along the Yellow River.  These canals, which allowed easy transport of goods, regularly silted up without maintenance, and the dikes on either side could break, flooding the land on either side. They had been neglected during many of the short-lived reigns up to this point, with perhaps a few exceptions when things got really bad.  However, Emperor Wen began work to fix these old canals and thus improve the flow of goods and services. Given all of this - his patronage of Buddhism and Daoism, as well as his attempt to resurrect the Han dynasty and the Confucian principles that underlay its government, as well as the public works that he instituted, Yang Jian, aka Emperor Wen of Sui, is remembered as the Cultured Emperor—despite that fact the had started out as a blood-soaked general who had secured his usurpation with a not inconsiderable amount of murder.  Sima Guang, writing from the Song dynasty, centuries later, praised Emperor Wen for all he did to grow the Sui, uniting north and south, supporting the people, and helping the country to prosper as it rarely has before.  And yet, Sima Guang also says that in his personal life he was mean and stingy and paranoid—afraid that everyone was out to get him.  Given the life he'd lived, that would make some sense.  Still, he seems to have been good for his people, in the long run. But this wasn't to last.  In 604, Emperor Wen fell ill and died.  Or at least that is the official story.  Another says that he had grown angry over some event and was about to disinherit the crown prince, Yang Guang, who sent someone to kill his father.  That is a very abbreviated version of the story, and, as I said, it is not without controversy. However he died, his son, Yang Guang, succeeded him to the throne and became known as Emperor Yang.  Emperor Yang continued to expand the empire, and under his dynasty the Sui would attain their greatest extent yet.  He rebuilt parts of the Great Wall, and expanded the borders south, into modern Vietnam, as well as up to the borders with Goguryeo.  He also continued the work his father had begun on canals, eventually undertaking the creation of the Grand Canal, which would connect the Yellow and Yangzi Rivers.  No longer would the two be separate, forced to send goods out to sea or over treacherous land routes to get from one river basin to another.  Now they could sail ships straight from one river to the other—an impressive feat that you can still see today in parts of modern China.  The project would forever change the landscape of China, both literally and figuratively.  It connected the north and south, leading to greater political, economic, and cultural unity between the two regions.  It would connect the culture and economic resources of the south with the military institutions of the north.   Unfortunately, for all that this expansion may have been good for commerce, it came at a price.  The wars in Champa, in Southern Vietnam, saw thousands of Sui soldiers die from malaria.  And then, in the north, though they continuously pushed against Goguryeo, they were never quite able to overthrow them.  Finally, there was the Grand Canal.  Although it would truly be a wonder of the world, and become a part of the lifeblood of dynasties for centuries to come, it was built at a huge price both monetarily and in human lives.  We can assume a large number of people died as conscript labor working on the canals or on refurbishing the Great Wall, but also we are told that the monetary price largely bankrupted the empire, and for which later historians castigated the Sui dynasty But that was still to happen.  For our purposes, we should rewind a bit, to the very beginning of the 7th century.  As we touched on last episode, Yamato was just adopting their own twelve rank system and a seventeen article constitution shortly after Emperor Wen passed away and Yang Guang took the throne.  Now these 17 articles were almost all based on Confucian or Buddhist philosophy; clearly the Court was looking to the continent more and more for inspiration on how to govern, especially as it further expanded and solidified its grasp across the archipelago.  Up to this point, much of that innovation had come through the Korean peninsula, by way of Silla, Goguryeo, and, most prominently, their ally Baekje.  But no doubt they knew that much of what was influencing those kingdoms had, itself, come from even farther away.  And so, this reign, the Chronicles record that Yamato once again sent envoys beyond their peninsular neighbors all the way to the Middle Country itself.  This is significant as they were making direct contact with the mighty empire, the source of so many of the philosophical and scientific innovations that Yamato was trying to adopt.  This wasn't the first time this had happened, of course—we know of the cases of state of Na contacting the Han court, and then Himiko of the Wa during the Wei period, as well as several missions immediately after Himiko's death.  We also know of the five kings of Wa who reached out to the Liu Song court, though the Chronicles themselves are often silent on actual embassies, making it hard to tell exactly which reigns that occurred in, though it is generally agreed that one of those “Five Kings” was none other than Wakatakiru himself, Yuuryaku Tennou. There may have been other missions.  There seems to be some discussion amongst the Liang dynasty records that may indicate greater contact with Japan, but again, we don't necessarily see that in the records themselves.  Furthermore, with the fractured nature of the various dynasties since the Han period, and the various conflicts on the peninsula and in the archipelago, it would be understandable if there hadn't been much direct diplomatic contact since about the time of Wakatakiru. And so it is a pretty big thing that we not only have an envoy around the year 608, but that there appears to be agreement for it in the Sui history—though there is one glaring mistake: in the Nihon Shoki they clearly say that they sent envoys to the “Great Tang”, and not the Sui.  However, this is fairly easily explained.  By the 8th century, as the records were being compiled, the Tang dynasty was, indeed, in control of the Chinese court.  In fact, the Tang dynasty was so admired by the Japanese of the day that even now the term “Karafu”, or “Chinese style”, uses the character for the Tang dynasty, rather than the Han.  On the one hand it seems as though the scholars of the 8th century would surely have known of the Sui dynasty coming before the Tang, but it is also understandable that anyone would have just thought of the successive courts as a single continuity.  Either way, I'll talk about the Sui dynasty, and it is in the Sui dynasty records that we find the corresponding description of this embassy. It starts on the 3rd day of the 7th month of 607.  The Chronicles tell us that Wono no Omi no Imoko was sent to the Sui court, taking along Kuratsukuri no Fukuri as an interpreter.  You may recall that the Kuratsukuri, or saddle-makers, claimed a descent from Shiba Tattou, himself from the continent.  It would make sense to take someone on this diplomatic exhibition who could actually speak the language or, failing that, read and write it - a peculiar function of the Chinese language, since the various dialects, though often mutually unintelligible, still use the same characters. Imoko, by the way, may have also had important connections, but in this case it was to the Soga.  We are told in the Nihon Shoki that Imoko was known in the Sui Court as “So Imko”, and the “So” character is the same as the first character in the name “Soga”.  It is possible that Imoko was, indeed, a Soga family member, and the name Wono no Omi may have come later.   Or it is possible that he was forgotten for some reason. On the Sui side, we are told that in the year 607 there was an envoy sent with tribute from King Tarashihoko, which may have been another name for Kashikiya Hime, or perhaps it was simply an error caused by the problems with attempting to record foreign names in Sinitic characters. The arrival of the embassy must have been something else, especially as they came upon the capital city.  Wen's capital city, that of Daxingcheng, was a new city, built just southeast of the ancient city of Chang'an, which was in a sad state of decay, despite hosting so many rulers over the centuries, including the Northern Zhou themselves.  Wen had laid out a new plan of a permanent, rectangular city, with the royal palace taking up the northern central district.  Buddhist and Daoist temples were scattered throughout the city.  The city itself was five to six miles a side, and so it would take time to truly build it out.  However, first the walls were set up, and then the palace area, so that Wen effectively moved into an empty city when he arrived in 583.  Many people were forcibly resettled, and members of the new royal family were encouraged to set up their own palaces, but it would take time to truly fill up—by the end of the Sui dynasty, and the beginning of the Tang, the city was still being built, and it wouldn't see its ultimate heyday as a vibrant urban capital until the Tang dynasty. And so when the Yamato delegation arrived in 608, they would have seen the impressive walls and the immense palace, but in all likelihood, much of the city was still being built, and there was likely construction on every block.  Nonetheless, the sheer size would have to have made an impression on them—nothing like this existed in the archipelago in the slightest. On the other hand, the Sui had their own curiosities about Yamato.  The history of the Sui, written only twenty to thirty years afterwards, starts out its account with a description of the Land of Wa.  Some of it is taken directly from the Wei histories, recounting what was previously known about these islands across the eastern sea—we talked about that back in episodes 11 to 13.  The Sui history summarizes these previous historical accounts, including mention of envoys that came over during the Qi and Liang dynasties—between 479 and 556—though little more is said. Then the Sui history mentions an envoy that is said to have arrived in the early part of the Sui—the Kaihuang era, between 581-600.  We are told that this was for a “King” whose family name was Ame and his personal name was Tarashihiko, with the title of Ohokimi—at least, assuming we are transliterating correctly, as the characters used have slightly different pronunciations.  That could easily be attributed to just mistranslations.  Even the family and personal name are familiar, but not exactly attributed in the Chronicles—though we have seen the elements elsewhere in the royal family, and it may be that they were also titles, of a sort.  Also, they mention a King, but that could also just be due to the fact that the Ohokimi was not a gendered title, and as such the Sui simply assumed a male ruler.  There is no evidence of this in the Chronicles for this, however it is said that at that time they looked into the ways of the Wa and they were told that “The King of Wa deems heaven to be his elder brother and the sun, his younger.  Before break of dawn he attends the Court, and, sitting cross-legged, listens to appeals.  Just as soon as the sun rises, he ceases these duties, saying that he hands them over to his brother.” This is likely a misunderstanding, once again, but it rings with some truth.  Even if we discard some of the legends about Amaterasu as later additions, there is plenty of linguistic and cultural evidence that the sun held a special place in Wa culture.  There is also the article in the new constitution about starting early to work that might just be referenced here. We aren't sure when, exactly, the Sui collected this information—though given that it was written within living memory of many of the events, a lot of the information is considered to at least be plausible, if perhaps a bit misunderstood at times. The Sui history specifically mentions the twelve court ranks—in fact, it is possible that the Chronicles, compiled in the 8th century, were actually referencingthis earlier history about the ranks, though we know that ranks continued in one way or another.  It also makes the comment that there were no regulated number of officials in each rank—that would certainly be the case later, and makes sense when the ranks also dictated how much of a salary that one could expect from the court.  Then, outside of the court they mention the “kuni”—the kuni no miyatsuko—and then claimed that each kuni no miyatsuko oversaw about 10 inaki, officials in charge of the royal granaries, who each oversaw 80 families.  It is doubtful that these numbers were that precise, but it gives an interesting concept of scale. The Sui history also tells us about other things that the Chronicles tend to leave out.  We are told that the men wore both outer and inner garments, with small (likely meaning narrow) sleeves.  Their footgear was like sandals, painted with lacquer, which sounds not unlike geta, which we do have evidence for going back into the Yayoi, at least, though this was only for the upper crust—most people just went barefoot, wearing a wide piece of cloth tied on without sewing. We do get a hint at the headgear that was instituted along with the court rank system, by the way, but only a glimpse.  We are told that it was made of brocade and colored silk and decorated with gold and silver inlaid flowers, which does correspond to some of what we know from the Chronicles. As for the women of Yamato, we are told that they arrange their hair on the back of the head, and they wear outer garments and scarves with patterns.  They have decorative combs of bamboo as well.  They also wore tattoos, as did the men.  Much of this, including the tattoos, accords with what we have evidence of in the Haniwa from the 6th century and later. For sleeping arrangements we are told that they weave grass into mattresses—possibly the origin of the later tatami that would originally just be woven mats but eventually turned into a type of permanent flooring.  For covers we are told they used skins lined with colored leather—a curious blanket, and one wonders if this was for everyone or just the upper crust. We are given some discussion of their weapons and armor, including their use of lacquered leather and the fact that they made arrowheads out of bone.  We also know they used metal, but bone was likely the more prevalent material, as losing a metal arrowhead was much more costly than losing a bone one. Interestingly we are told that, though there is a standing army, wars are infrequent—which may have been accurate in relation to what the Sui themselves had gone through and seen, since it seems like they were almost constantly fighting somewhere along their borders.  But Yamato was far from peaceful, and it is telling that the court was accompanied by music and displays of military might. As for the justice system, we talked about this a little bit in previous episodes, based on various punishments we've seen in the archipelago, though the Sui history gives us a slightly more direct description.  It claims that there were some high crimes punished by death.  Others were punished with fines, often meant to make restitution to the aggrieved.  If you couldn't pay you would be enslaved to pay for it instead.  They also mention banishment and flogging.  All of this is in line with some of what we've seen in the Chronicles, though it also seems like some of this may have also depended on other factors, including the accused's social status.  After all, not everyone had rice land that they could just turn over to wipe out their misdeeds. Then there were the various judicial ordeals.  We've mentioned this idea , with the idea that somehow the righteous would be protected from injury.  These included things like pulling pebbles out of boiling water, or reaching into a pot to grab a snake and hoping he doesn't bite you.  There are also various tortures designed to get one to confess. In discussing literacy, the Sui histories mention that the Wa have no written characters—and at this point, the writing would have been some form of Sinic characters, assuming one could read and write at all.  Instead, the Sui anthropologists said that the Wa used notched sticks and knotted ropes as a means of conveying messages.  How exactly that work, I'm not sure, but there are certainly cultures that we know used things like knotted rope for various math and conveying numbers, etc. In regards to religion, the Sui noticed that Buddhism had taken hold, but it had not gotten rid of other practices.  Thus we know they practiced forms of divination and had faith in both male and female shamans. In their free time, people would enjoy themselves.  On New Year's day, they would have archery tournaments, play games, and drink—the Sui said that it was very much like how they themselves celebrated. Coromorant fishing and abalone diving—well, diving for fish—are both noted already.  Again, these are activities that continue into the modern day. At dinner we are told that the people do not eat off of dishes or plates, but instead use oak leaves.  We've seen mention of this kind of practice, and that may have just been a particular ritual or ceremony that made its way back. Finally, there are the rituals for the dead.  We are told people wear white—white is often considered the color of death in Japan, even today.  They would have singing and dancing near the corpse, and a nobleman might lay in state—in a mogari shelter or temporary interment—for three years.  Certainly, we've sometimes seen it take a while, especially if the kofun isn't ready to receive the body, yet.  Commoners apparently would place the body in a boat which was pulled along from the shore or placed in a small palanquin—though what happens after that is somewhat of a mystery. The Sui envoys writing about this also apparently experienced an active period of Mt. Aso—or another mountain so-named—as they said it was belching forth fire from the rocks.  As we've mentioned, the archipelago is particularly active, volcanically speaking, so I'm not surprised that an envoy might have had a chance to get to know a little more about that first hand. Having described the country thus, the Sui Chronicles go on to describe the embassy that came over in the year 607.  According to the history as translated by Tsunoda Ryusaku and L. Carrington Goodrich, the envoy from Yamato explained the situation as such: “The King has heard that to the west of the ocean a Boddhisattva of the Sovereign reveres and promotes Buddhism.  Accompanying the embassy are several tens of monks who have come to study Buddhism.” This is great as we see some of the things that the Japanese scholars left out—that there were Buddhists on this mission.  For many, getting to the monasteries and temples of the Middle Kingdom was almost as good as making the trip all the way to India. Over all, the embassy appears to have been largely successful in their mission.  The ambassador, Imoko, came back with an envoy from the Sui, Pei Shiqing, along with twelve other individuals.  It is thought that this may have been the same embassy that then reported back to the court all of the various details that the later Sui history  captured. According to the Sui dynasty history, the embassy first headed to Baekje, reaching the island of Chiku, and then, after seeing Tara in the south, they passed Tsushima and sailed out in to the deep ocean, eventually landing on the island of Iki.  From there they made it to Tsukushi, and on to Suwo.  They then passed through some ten countries until they came to the shore.  Now, Naniwa no Kishi no Wonari had been sent to bring them to court and they had a new official residence erected for them in Naniwa—modern Ohosaka.  When they arrived, on the 15th day of the 6th month of the year 608, Yamato sent out thirty heavily decorated boats to meet them—and no doubt to make an impression as well.  They met them at Yeguchi, the mouth of the river and they were ensconced in the newly built official residence. Official entertainers were appointed for the ambassadors—Nakatomi no Miyatoko no Muraji no Torimaro, Ohohoshi no Kawachi no Atahe no Nukade, and Fume no Fumibito no Oohei.  Meanwhile, Imoko continued on to the court proper to report on his mission. Unfortunately, for all of the goodness that came from the whole thing, the trip had not been completely flawless.  The Sui court had entrusted Imoko with a letter to pass on to the Yamato court, but the return trip through Baekje proved… problematic, to say the least.  We are told that men of Baekje stopped the party, searched them, and confiscated the letter.  It is unclear whether these were Baekje officials or just some bandits, but the important thing was that Imoko had lost the message, which was a grave offense.  The ministers suggested that, despite all of his success, Imoko should be banished for losing the letter.  After all, it was the duty of an envoy to protect the messages between the courts at all costs. In the end, it was agreed that, yes, Imoko should be punished, but that it would be a bad look in front of their guests.  After all, he had just represented them to the Sui Court, and so Kashikiya Hime pardoned Imoko of any wrongdoing. A couple months later, on the 3rd day of the 8th month, the preparations had been made and  the envoys formally approached the palace.  There were met on the Tsubaki no Ichi road by 75 well-dressed horses—the Sui history says two hundred—and there Nukada no Muraji no Hirafu welcomed them all with a speech. After finally reaching the location of the palace, it was nine more days before the Sui envoys were formally summoned to present themselves and state their reason for coming.  Abe no Tori no Omi and Mononobe no Yosami no no Muraji no Idaku acted as “introducers” for the guests, announcing who they were to the court.  Then Pei Shiqing had the various diplomatic gifts arranged in the courtyard, and then presented his credentials to the court.  Then, bowing twice, he gave his own account of why he had been sent—he announced greetings from the Sui emperor, recognized the work of Imoko, and then provided an excuse that the emperor himself could not make it due to his poor health.  That last bit I suspect was a polite fiction, or perhaps an erroneous addition by the Chroniclers.  After all, it isn't like the Sui emperors were in the habit of just gallivanting off to an unknown foreign land—especially one across the sea. After delivering some polite niceties, Shiqing also provided a detailed list of all of the diplomatic gifts that they had brought. The dance that happened next is telling.  In order to convey Pei Shiqing's letter to the sovereign, it wasn't like they could just hand it.  There were levels of protocol and procedure that had to be observed, and so Abe no Omi took the letter up and handed it to Ohotomo no Kurafu no Muraji, who in turn placed it on a table in front of the Great gate where Kashikiya Hime could then get it.  This setup is similar to the later court, where only certain individuals of rank were actually allowed up into the buildings of the palace, whereas others were restricted to the ground. After that formal introduction, there was a month or more of parties for the envoys, until finally they had to return to the Sui court.  When they departed, they were sent with eight students and Imoko, who was bringing another letter back to the Sui Court.  The students were all scheduled to study various disciplines and bring the knowledge back to the Yamato court. But that wasn't quite so special, or at least we aren't given much more on the specifics of what the students brought back..  What really stands out in the Sui histories is the contents of the formal letter that Imoko was carrying, as it had a phrase that will be familiar to many students of this period of history, and which really connects across the Japanese and Sui histories, despite other inconsistencies.  It read: “The Son of Heaven in the land where the sun rises addresses a letter to the Son of Heaven in the land where the sun sets.  We hope you are in good health.” Or at least, that is how the Sui histories record it.  In the Nihon Shoki they say something similar, “The Emperor of the East respectfully addresses the Emperor of the West.”  Here, rather than using “Child of Heaven”, the author made use of the term “Tennou” when referring to the Yamato sovereign, and then different characters were used for the Sui emperor.  At the same time, that is one of the reasons that I give more credence to the Sui history. Of course, however you slice and dice this thing, there are some major airs being taken by the Yamato sovereign.  Thus it is no wonder that, when the Sui emperor heard this, he was displeased, to say the least, and he told his minister that the letter was discourteous and should never again be brought to his attention.  So that's a whole mood. The reason for this offense may be obvious, as the letter paints the sovereign of Japan as equal to the emperor of the Sui dynasty.  That was indeed a bold claim. As we mentioned towards the top of the episode, the Sui were just about at their zenith.  They had defeated their enemies, taken control of both the northern and southern regions, expanded to their south and north, and they were using their vast reserves on massive public works.  They were a large, established and still growing empire.  Comparatively Yamato had, what, 100,000 households?  No writing system.  They were eating off of oak leaves.  And yet they were taking on airs and claiming that they were equal to the Sui.  That had to garner more than a few eyerolls, and I really wonder at the temerity of the officer who presented it up the chain, especially as they would have seen what the Sui was really like—a reality that most of envoys to the Sui court would have seen firsthand. There is also the fact that they claim to be the land where the sun rises while the Sui are the land where the sun sets, which may have just been referencing east and west in a poetic fashion, but on another level it is almost as if they were talking about the rise of Yamato and the fall, or setting, of the Sui. I would note that we still don't see the term “Land of the Rising Sun”, or “Nihon”, used for the name of the country yet—one of the reasons I continue to refer to Yamato and not just “Japan”.  However, all of this is in keeping with the traditions of the Wa people as we know them—the sun was given a special place in their worldview, as demonstrated linguistically, and not just through the legends curated in the 8th century. By the way, this  exchange is mentioned in both the Sui History and the Nihon Shoki, but they place it in slightly different contexts.  According to the Sui History, this was one of the first things that envoys said, whereas the version in the Nihon Shoki it was actually sent with the second mission.  In either case, however, the content is relatively the same.  Certainly, as Japan continued to take on more and more trappings of the continental courts, they would eventually even take on the term Tennou—also read in Japanese as Sumera no Mikoto—to refer to the sovereign.  This is basically saying that the sovereign is, indeed, a Heavenly Son, and which they would come to translate as “emperor”, in English.  There would be other terminology and trappings that would reinforce this concept, which placed the sovereign of Japan in a position that at least locally seemed to be much more prestigious. Imoko came back from this last diplomatic mission and was well beloved—some later sources even suggest that he may have been promoted for his diplomatic efforts.  Oddly, however, we don't really hear more, if anything, about Imoko, and he fades back into the past. And so that covers much of the story of what Yamato was borrowing from the Sui and others during this period.  Next episode—well, I'm honestly not sure what we'll be covering next, as there is just so much going on during Kashikiya-hime's reign.  But stick around. Until next time, then, thank you for listening and for all of your support.  If you like what we are doing, tell your friends and feel free to rate us wherever you listen to podcasts.  If you feel the need to do more, and want to help us keep this going, we have information about how you can donate on Patreon or through our KoFi site, ko-fi.com/sengokudaimyo, or find the links over at our main website, SengokuDaimyo.com/Podcast, where we will have some more discussion on topics from this episode. Also, feel free to Tweet at us at @SengokuPodcast, or reach out to our Sengoku Daimyo Facebook page.  You can also email us at the.sengoku.daimyo@gmail.com.  And that's all for now.  Thank you again, and I'll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo's Chronicles of Japan.   

https://ykocoaching.amplifierlive.com/CL0002# yayoik@ykocoaching.com ykocoaching.com Disclaimer: these podcast episodes are sharing my personal experiences, stories from mentors and guests around self esteem, confidence, personal growth and mental health. For any serious mental health concerns and advice please consult with a professional such as a doctor, therapist or what seems appropriate.

We're back at the beginning for Part 1 of a new miniseries: A Revised Introduction to Japanese History.  Show notes here.

Few people inspire us more than Yayoi Kusama.Cal recently discovered this 94-year old's work while at the Guggenheim in Bilbao. Like many others, he was immediately gripped by her art – enough to be the only artist he looked up after his visit. Little did he know she was one of the world's most successful living artists, had been creating thousands of pieces across nearly a century, and has quite the storied past.In this episode, you'll learn about this incredible artist, from her long-time struggle with mental health (she has been living out of a mental facility for 50 years!) to her alienation from the art community and Japan, and how she ultimately succeeded beyond all of that noise by continuing to create a gobsmacking amount of art. A true hero's journey. It's truly a wonder that we hadn't heard of Yayoi earlier. We hope this episode leaves you just as astounded by her as we are.

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

01:56:14: Time stamp to skip the Madoka Magica and Fate/Zero spoilers You can write into future Question Buckets at ghostdiverspod@gmail.com and don't forget to follow us on Twitter! The Show: @ghostdiverspod (twitter) Niamh: @FoxmomNia (twitter) Connor: @rabbleais (twitter) Export Audio Network: exportaud.io Ghost Divers: exportaud.io/ghostdivers Pondering Pootan: exportaud.io/pootan Ornate Stairwells: exportaud.io/ornatestairwells Around the Long Fire: abnormalmapping.com/longfire Check out our official schedule at exportaud.io/divingschedule! Works Cited in this Discussion Sorgenfrei, Carol Fisher. Unspeakable Acts: The Avant-garde Theatre of Terayama Shūji and Postwar Japan. University of Hawaii Press, 2005. Content Warnings for this Discussion Pedophilia Sexualization of young women Rape Violence Violence against women Gendered violence Sexualized violence Racialized violence Gun violence Police brutality Sex work Homophobia Food Alcohol (post-ED section) Find out more at https://ghost-divers.pinecast.co

Mes chers camarades, bien le bonjour ! Bienvenue dans ce nouvel entretien historique ! Quand on parle de la Préhistoire en Europe, on peut facilement s'emmêler les pinceaux entre les différentes périodes : Âge du Fer, Âge du Bronze, Néolithique… Mais quand on s'intéresse à la Préhistoire japonaise… eh bien c'est une autre paire de manches ! Et c'est justement pour y voir plus clair que j'ai eu le plaisir de recevoir Linda Gilaizeau, alias Truelle la Vie sur YouTube ! Elle est docteure en archéologie et spécialiste de la Préhistoire japonaise. Cela a été l'occasion de débroussailler ensemble ce sujet “épineux”, de découvrir des périodes passionnantes comme le Yayoi, le Jomon, et le Kofun, tout en profitant de l'occasion pour aborder l'archéologie au Japon. Bonne écoute sur Nota Bene ! Become a member at https://plus.acast.com/s/notabenemovies. Hébergé par Acast. Visitez acast.com/privacy pour plus d'informations.

Mes chers camarades, bien le bonjour ! .Il y a quelques temps, j'ai eu le plaisir de recevoir Linda Gilaizeau, une chercheuse spécialisée en archéologie et en Préhistoire japonaise. Et c'est justement de ça dont on a parlé ensemble : car oui, la Préhistoire japonaise, ce n'est pas comme la Préhistoire européenne ! Mais n'allons pas trop vite, nous en reparlerons très prochainement sur le podcast. Pour l'heure, je vous propose de nous attarder sur une période spécifique de la Préhistoire japonaise, la période Yayoi ! À cette époque, on commence à percevoir chez les populations locales des débuts de hiérarchisation, notamment grâce au mobilier retrouvé dans les tombes. On mettait en effet des objets de luxe dans certaines sépultures spécifiques, comme des miroirs qui venaient tout droit… de la Chine ! Ça vous intrigue ? Alors trêve de bavardage, bonne écoute ! Become a member at https://plus.acast.com/s/notabenemovies. Hébergé par Acast. Visitez acast.com/privacy pour plus d'informations.

Discover the history of ohaguro, a traditional practice in Japan where people blacken their teeth. Dating back to the Yayoi era, Ohaguro was first practiced only by the aristocracy but eventually spread to other classes and ages.  Uncanny Japan is author Thersa Matsuura. Her other shows are Uncanny Robot Podcast and The Soothing Stories Podcast. Check out her books including The Carp-Faced Boy on Amazon. If you'd like to help support the podcast and have a bedtime story read to you monthly, please visit Patreon. Please join our community forum! https://japanforum.uncanny.productions/ Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/thersamatsuura Website: https://www.uncannyjapan.com/ YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@UncannyJapan Mastodon: https://famichiki.jp/@UncannyJapan Twitter: https://twitter.com/UncannyJapan Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/uncannyjapan/ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/uncannyjapan/ Buy Me a Coffee (one-time contribution): https://buymeacoffee.com/uncannyjapan Credits Intro music by Julyan Ray Matsuura Otogi2 by PeriTune - Royalty Free Music Material