Winds Across the Straits

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.

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And that’s all for now. Thank you again, and I’ll see you next episode on Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan.