This episode we look at the Isshi Incident of 645. This is perhaps one of the most famous events of ancient Japanese history. It is also one of the most well documented of the Chronicles, including a complete blow by blow of everything that went down.

And yet it should be noted we only have one side of the story, with obvious bias. Unlike later incidents that we can check against multiple contemporary diaries and get different takes from people in different sides of the conflict, in this case we only have the official record.

On the other hand, we are only about 75-80 years from the publication of the Nihon Shoki. The participants would have passed away, but it wasn't exactly ancient history for them.

Welcome to Sengoku Daimyo’s Chronicles of Japan. My name is Joshua and this is episode 106: Game of Thrones – Asuka Style
Envoys from the Korean peninsula stood in the rock strewn courtyard of the Itabuki palace, looking north towards the raised wooden palace building. Courtiers were in attendance for the ceremony, the reading of memorials from the kingdoms of Silla, Baekje, and Goguryeo. Many stood along the ground, but those of rank and status were granted leave to sit on the veranda or even under the eaves of the building. In the center, screened from view, but still present, was the Queen of Yamato, Ame Toyo Takara Ikashi-hi Tarashi Hime. Her husband had passed away not four years ago, and ever since she had carried the burden of the state upon her shoulders. Nearby sat Kuratsukuri, the Oho-omi, who had taken on the mantle of his ill father to help guide and lead the court. He was undoubtedly the most powerful man in Yamato, and as such held one of the most prestigious positions.
Below, in the courtyard, Maro read out the memorials. His hands and voice shook and sweat poured down from his brow. When asked why he was so nervous, Maro would reply that it was no small feat to stand in the august presence of the Queen and to read out a memorial for the three Han, the three Kingdoms of the Korean peninsula. He was on the spot, as it were, in front of the most powerful people in the land. Anyone would be nervous under those circumstances.
That wasn’t quite true, however. Maro had other reasons to be nervous, as he knew what was about to happen—and what the consequences would be if he and the others failed. Some time back, you see, Maro had been approached by his son-in-law, Prince Katsuraki, with an audacious plan hatched by Katsuraki with his close friend, Kamako, along with a few others. Now that plan was finally coming to fruition.
While attention was focused on Maro, Prince Katsuraki had had the guards lock the gates, while Kamako readied archers in the galleries. Kamako had also secretly sent a pair of swords over to two other conspirators, Komaro and Amida, but those two balked at the magnitude of what they were about to do. They were so intimidated they almost threw up, but Prince Katsuraki chided them and tried to spur them into action – but when that failed, Prince Katsuraki himself leapt into motion.
With a mighty yell he leapt forward, weapon drawn. Komaro and Amida followed along behind, as the crowd went silent. Everyone else froze as the three descended on Kuratsukuri, the Oho-omi. With one blow Prince Katsuraki caught a part of his head and shoulder. As Kuratsukuri started to get up, another blow caught him in the leg. Kuratsukuri rolled on the ground away from his attackers and in front of the august presence of the Queen. Bleeding profusely, he pleaded with her to do something about this unprovoked attack.
In shock, Her Majesty asked what the meaning of this was, to which Prince Katsuraki prostrated himself. Kuratsukuri, he said, was guilty of plotting to bring down the royal family and place himself on the throne.
The Queen, seeing there was little she could do, retreated to the safety of her inner palace, while the attackers dealt Kuratsukuri his death blows, and then covered his body with screens and mats as rain began to fall and puddles formed in the courtyard.
Thus kicked off the Isshi Incident of 645, which was, in its way, Japan’s own Red Wedding, and the people involved might be known to you by other names. Prince Katsuraki is, of course, better known as Prince Naka no Ohoye, later known as Tenji Tennou, and Kuratsukuri is more popularly known as Soga no Iruka, the scion of the famous Soga family that had featured so heavily in the Yamato court. Katsuraki’s co-conspirator, Kamako, would later known as Nakatomi—or even Fujiwara—no Kamatari. This incident, worthy of an episode of Game of Thrones, would dramatically change the balance of power in the court, and greatly impact the future state of Yamato.
How did this dramatic event come about? To better understand everything going on, we’ll take a closer look at what was going on during Takara’s reign, and even draw a bit on what had come before.
First off, you may recall that last episode we talked about the reign of Takara’s husband, Tamura, aka Jomei Tennou, and how sparse the Chronicles were during his thirteen years on the throne. Even the previous reign, that of Kashikiya Hime, had a lot to say—perhaps because it was also the reign where we got Shotoku Taishi, the enlightened Buddhist Prince who could do no wrong. It is also her reign when the ambassadors to the mainland really started up again, and though it was to the Sui court, the Chroniclers referred to it as the “Great Tang”, so that without context, Tamura’s embassy almost seems like it is just a standard thing.
This reign, though, Takara’s reign? The Chroniclers are being meticulous about everything. Some years they are even giving us day by day accounts of the weather, whether it was too hot or too cold. For an unseasonably cold summer they say that the “Ordinances of Winter” are still in effect. This goes back to a passage in a continental story, which claims that if the ruler continues to practice the Winter rites in the summer months the weather would follow suit, since everything the court did was tied to the natural world. Disorder in the state would be reflected by disorder in nature.
Aston notes that the Chroniclers probably were not blaming Takara for the weather, and that this was probably just a common saying for unseasonable weather. And yet, I can’t help but notice that a search of the text of the Nihon Shoki shows that formulation only used during this reign. It is always possible that it was a fad term used by Chroniclers of a few records, and not by others. But it also could refer to a general disorder in the government, a theme that would sit well with anti-Soga sentiments amongst the Chroniclers.
Soga no Emishi, aka Toyoura no Oho-omi, had been the most powerful noble in court since his father, Soga no Umako, had passed away, leaving him as the head of the Soga house. He had been largely responsible for seeing that Prince Yamashiro, son of the popular Crown Prince Umayado, aka Shotoku Taishi, was set aside in favor of Prince Tamura. Sure, Prince Yamashiro was Emishi’s nephew, through his sister, Tojiko no Iratsume, but Tamura was Emishi’s brother-in-law through his other sister Hohote no Iratsume, which also made Tamura’s eldest son, Prince Furubito no Ohoye, another nephew of Soga no Emishi.
I wonder, then, what Emishi felt when, assuming the Chronicles are correct, Tamura made Takara his queen and not Hohote. It was a perfectly reasonable decision by the logic of the time: Takara was of clear royal lineage, while Hohote is simply noted as the daughter of Soga no Umako. Sure, we’ve seen queens appointed without royal lineage, but typically after the chief consort had passed away, and the offspring typically had to contend with the stronger claims of those for whom both parents had been of royal descent. And yet, ever since the Soga had started getting involved in the royal lineage, those lines had been a bit blurred. Had Tamura decided to make Hohote no Iratsume his chief consort and Queen, I don’t know that anyone would have said anything.
Later, we see Tamura building Kudara temple and Kudara palace and moving away from the Soga controlled area of Asuka. Unfortunately, he would also unexpectedly die a couple years later.
We are left by the Chroniclers with the impression that Naka no Ohoe was the Crown Prince, and that Takara herself took up the throne because the heir was still 16 and not yet old enough to take the throne, himself. However, it isn’t entirely clear this was the case—not about him being 16, but about Naka no Ohoye being designated as the heir. As far as I can tell, the Chroniclers don’t mention Naka no Ohoye being made Crown Prince, and so their use of the term “heir apparent” could just be a case of using his later position anachronistically in the Chronicle, and possibly trying to strengthen his claim to the throne. Furthermore, there was an older son of Tamura, Furubito no Ohoye. His mother was of Soga descent, and he was the nephew of Soga no Emishi. He appears to have had the support of the Soga, which of course the Chronicles depict as being the Soga attempting to take the throne for themselves, but we should probably leave room for the idea that he may have had a legitimate claim.
It wasn’t just support of the wrong candidate that Soga no Iruka and his father were accused of—they were accused of trying to usurp the power of the sovereigns. For example, Soga no Emishi decided that, rather than leaving his tomb to be built by his descendants, he would build two tombs himself: one for him and one for his son. He said he did this so that he wouldn’t imposition later generations, and yet he used his power at court to raise levies of workers from across the land, and from the 180 Be, or occupational families. On top of that, he drew on the Mibu-be for the Kamitsumiya household. These were the workers specifically granted to work lands for Prince Umayado and his descendants, collectively referred to as the Kamitsumiya princes after Prince Umayado’s own title as the Kamitsumiya Prince, or Prince of the Upper Palace. He is also said to have referred to these new tombs as “misasagi”, a term reserved for tombs of royal sovereigns.
This all brought the wrath of Princess Kamitsumiya no Iratsume, daughter of Prince Umayado. After all, Soga no Emishi had already kept her brother Prince Yamashiro from his place on the throne, and now he was taking their family’s workers as if those laborers hadn’t been assigned to their household by royal decree. This is on top of other things Emishi did that year, including erecting his own ancestral temple Takamiya in Katsuraki, the lands that Kashikiya Hime, when she was on the throne, had refused to give to Soga no Umako, despite his claims to them as his ancestral lands. Emishi is also said to have performed an eight-fold dance, also normally reserved for members of the royal line. And so Kamitsumiya no Iratsume complained that “In Heaven there are not two suns: in a state there cannot be two sovereigns. Why should he”—by which she means Soga no Emishi—“at his own pleasure, employ, in forced labor, all the people of the fief?”
And there is a lot here that seems damning, but since Soga no Emishi didn’t get a chance to really tell his side of the story, I think we should at least examine some of the inconsistencies or oddities about the account. Perhaps most importantly, all of this is one giant entry that is just said to have happened “in the year 642”, but no specific months and days are given, despite the fact that that other entries are extremely precise. So whatever source this was being taken from apparently it wasn’t necessarily a contemporary account of everything.
Furthermore, a lot of these things wouldn’t actually have been that big of an issue. Building a temple, well, it was all the rage, and not limited to sovereigns. And it isn’t clear if Emishi really did perform some kind of forbidden dance, that could be slander or it may be that the dance wasn’t that forbidden. And building tombs ahead of his demise was hardly something that was improper, and we can’t be certain he really called them “misasagi” and not just a normal word for “tombs”. As for taking the Kamitsumiya laborers, he may have used his authority to do that, but was that really usurping royal prerogative? It may have been more of a political move against the Kamitsumiya house, and it may have been nothing at all—every levy had to pull people from somewhere, and the Kamitsumiya princes were royal princes, but also connected to the Soga house, so this may have not been such a big thing.
Finally, the whole speech about there not being two suns in the sky—that sounds suspiciously like something from the continent. Up until relatively recently in the narrative we actually do see evidence of co-rulership in the archipelago, so I’m not even sure we are so far from that as to make it unthinkable.
But there is a more specific entry that appears to show what may have been some more actual tensions with the Soga family.
On the 23rd day of the seventh month of 642, the pages of Soga no Iruka caught a white sparrow, and at the same time another man put a white sparrow in a cage and gave it to him. These were seen as auspicious signs.
Two days later, a council of state convened. On their minds was the most recent drought. Reports were coming in that it was getting serious: village hafuri, the predecessors to Shinto priests, were, in some locations, recommending sacrificing horses or cattle to the gods at various shrines, asking them to bring rain. In other places people engaged in continental practices, including things like moving the locations of markets, which apparently was something they would do, and of course making prayers to the river-god.
Soga no Emishi suggested that various sutras—or perhaps it was the Great Cloud sutra—be read in bits and pieces, or "tendoku”, to repent sins and pray for rain. The council seems to have agreed with this, and two days later the Great Temple, probably Asukadera, had the images of Buddhas, Boddhisatvas, and the Four Heavenly Kings decked out while a multitude of priests held a formal tendoku reading of the Great Cloud sutra. Soga no Emishi himself participated by holding a censer, burning offerings, and offering up the prayer on behalf of the nation.
This tendoku ceremony, by the way, appears to have been a way to basically speed-read through a sutra. Since reading sutras was supposed to bring about fortune, or at least deter misfortune, the more you read the better. More monks meant you can read more of them, but you could also read more quickly by just reading a brief excerpt and declaring the whole thing read -- this was thought to be just as effective. This is still performed today, but rather than scrolls, it’s usually done with the accordion folded orihon, often using specifically the Daihannya-kyo, or Sutra of Perfect Wisdom, which is comprised of some 600 or so chapters. Priests will read a bit and then recite the chapter titles as they flip through the pages in what is almost like something you would do with a Slinky toy. The paper rustles in the air and creates its own kind of divine wind. Of course, Soga no Emishi’s ceremony would have been a little different, as that form of book was still several centuries away, and the Daihannya-kyo may not have even been translated into Sinitic characters yet, let alone traveled to Yamato. Still, this idea of reading only a part to mean the whole, does seem to have been a common tradition, especially when you were trying to create a lot of merit quickly.
Unfortunately, this ceremony wasn’t enough. We are told a slight rain fell the next day, but not enough to break the drought. So after two days the prayers were discontinued.
Two days later, Takara, as sovereign, went to the headwaters of Minabuchi, where she knelt down and prayed, worshipping the four directions and then looking up to Heaven. Straightaway there was thunder and a great rain, which fell for five days and brought plenty of water for everyone. The people of Yamato—the 100 names under heaven, cried out “Banzai!”, wishing Takara 10,000 years of long life.
In these entries, it would seem that we see the Soga and Buddhism pitted against the traditions of intercession by the royal house. Since time immemorial, the Nihon Shoki tells us how the sovereigns interceded with heaven and with the gods of Yamato and the Japanese archipelago. In this case it looks like that royal tradition won out, and I can’t help but wonder if it spoke to some other conflicts between the royal house and the Soga clan.
Continuing on from the political angle, there is also a short but interesting entry on the 16th day of the 11th month of 642, when Takara celebrated the Niiname sai, or festival of new rice, and apparently the Crown Prince—by which I assume Naka no Ohoye, but possibly Furubito no Ohoye—and Soga no Emishi were also given what I assume was the honor of tasting the new rice. Aston suggests that this would have been done in their own mansions, so I assume that rice was sent to them or they mimic the ceremony in some way, it isn’t clear. But it is interesting that Soga and the Crown Prince are on relatively equal footing.
Almost a year later, and Soga no Emishi was not feeling well. He had become unable to attend court, and was probably getting on in years. We are told that he gave his son, Iruka, a purple cap and that he raised him to his own rank, making him the Soga no Oho-omi, the Oho-omi of the Soga family. Furthermore he also brought in his other son, the younger brother to Soga no Iruka, and made him the head of the Mononobe family, Mononobe no Oho-omi, using the excuse that his grandmother was the younger sister of Mononobe no Yugehi no Ohomuraji.
Again this seems like it might be out of place if Emishi was giving out court rank and appointing two of his sons to the most powerful positions possible. On the other hand, if we consider that Oho-omi was simply the title for the person in charge of an Omi level family, this may have been as much a familial decision, more so than a courtly one. Granted, making his son the head of the Mononobe family seems like a bit of a reach, but there was a connection and since the Mononobe met their downfall at the hands of the Soga, that may have actually been something that Emishi was empowered to do. Finally, the position of Oho-omi appears to have been largely inherited, so none of this may have been that much out of the ordinary, beyond the purple cap, IF that actually meant he was giving out cap rank. Then again, we don’t know what the caps really were or the colors, though purple is definitely considered a royal color in later periods. Even if he was, he may have been going off of traditions that made his son effectively the same or similar rank to himself.
We are told, though, that Soga no Iruka was quite ambitious, and he apparently had it in for the Kamitsumiya family – the ones his father had apparently “stolen” the workers from to build their tombs. On the 12th day of the 10th month of 643, just six days after Soga no Emishi had passed on authority to his son, Soga no Iruka began plotting how to get rid of his rivals. Chief amongst them were the Kamitsumiya princes, including Prince Yamashiro no Ohoye, who still held a tenuous claim to the throne. On top of that, their father, Prince Umayado, was likely already being canonized by those who would eventually set up the Shotoku cult, a cult that would have been based around the temples Prince Umayado had founded at Ikaruga, where his children still resided.
We are told that Prince Iruka was hoping to put his cousin, Prince Furubito no Ohoye, on the throne, though another source says that he simply hated the prestige and fame of the Kamitsumiya princes and wanted to see them brought down. Either way, several weeks later, on the first day of the 11th month, Iruka sent Kose no Tokudai no Omi and Hashi no Saba no Muraji to seize Prince Yamashiro and the others at Ikaruga. As their forces arrived at the Princes’ residence, however, an enslaved man named Minari and several of the attending toneri came out to fight with the Soga aligned forces. Minari himself was apparently quite the shot, and Hashi no Saba was hit by an arrow and died, causing his troops to pull back. The troops said that Minari was literally that one man who was as good as a thousand, and didn’t want to face him.
This temporary respite gave Yamashiro and his family time to plan. They threw some bones of a horse into his bedchamber and then he, his consort, and the younger members of his family escaped to Mt. Ikoma, followed by Miwa no Fumuya, Tame no Muraji, as well as Tame’s daughter, Uda no Morowoshi, and Ise no Abe no Katafu. Unwitting of their escape, Kose no Tokudai and the others burned down the palace at Ikaruga, and when they finally went through the wreckage, they found the charred bones and just assumed they belonged to Prince Yamashiro—after all, there was no CSI: Asuka to tell them otherwise. And so, their job apparently done, they withdrew.
Prince Yamashiro and crew, realizing they couldn’t just come back, stayed up on Mt. Ikoma without food and water for four to five days. Miwa no Fumuya suggested that they make their way to the official granary at Fukakusa and obtain horses to head out towards the Eastern countries to raise an army and come back, but Prince Yamashiro was hesitant. He realized that they might win, but that it would not be without a large loss of life. Yamato life. “Why should I distress 10,000 subjects?” he supposedly asked, “Isn’t it better if one person were to give up their life for the stability of the country?”
Meanwhile, a man noticed the Kamitsumiya princes were up on the mountain, so he let Iruka know. Iruka was more than a bit worried about this development: he thought Prince Yamashiro was dead. If they escaped and raised an army, Iruka wasn’t sure he could oppose them. Iruka ordered one of his men, Takumuku no Omi no Kunioshi, to go and arrest the prince, but Kunioshi had a job guarding the palace, and used that as an excuse to get out of hunting down and possibly killing the popular royal prince. Iruka was mad enough that he was going to go and find Prince Yamashiro himself and settle this, but then Prince Furubito showed up. The Prince was out of breath—he had apparently run over to Iruka just then, and he warned Iruka not to go himself. And so he sent commanders to search Mt. Ikoma, but they couldn’t find anything, because Prince Yamashiro had already left.
In fact, Prince Yamashiro and his attendants made their way to the Temple of Ikaruga—which would mean Houryuuji temple, the temple commissioned by his father, Prince Umayado. When the Soga forces heard about this, they rushed over and surrounded the temple. Prince Yamashiro sent Miwa no Fumuya out to parlay. Prince Yamashiro’s method was simple: While he could have raised an army, he was unwilling to have more people die for just one person, and so he gave himself to Iruka.
In so doing, the younger members of the Kamitsumiya family all strangled themselves, presumably to avoid being captured and tortured, or worse. Prince Yamashiro himself gave himself up and was killed. We are told that when he did so, there were five-colored banners and umbrellas shining in the sky over the temple, but when someone pointed this out to Iruka, he looked up just as a dark cloud passed by and covered it.
And thus Prince Yamashiro and the descendants of Prince Umayado came to an end. When Soga no Emishi heard about what his son had done, he was pissed. He chided him severely, claiming that he had only provoked outrage and put himself in danger.
And it seems that Soga no Emishi wasn’t the only one who was upset. If Soga no Iruka took out Prince Yamashiro to put Furubito on the throne, what about the other Princes, including Naka no Ohoye?
Here is where someone else joins our tale. His name, we are told, is Nakatomi no Kamako, though some may know him better as Nakatomi no Kamatari. In the first month of 644, Kamako was to be appointed the Kamutsukasa no Kami, or Chief of the Ministry of Religion—literally the ministry of the gods. The Nakatomi were already known as Court Ritualists, so this may have been an inherited position. That said, he tried to decline the position several times, and even left on a plea of ill-health for Mishima.
Around this same time, Prince Karu, Takara’s brother, had a problem with his leg and he couldn’t attend court. Kamako was friends with Prince Karu, and he went to attend on him during his convalescence. When he did so, Prince Karu had his favorite consort, a lady from the Abe family, go sweep out a separate room and spread out a new sleeping mat just for Kamako, and he provided him with everything he could hope for. Kamako couldn’t believe his friend’s generosity, and wondered aloud who wouldn’t want to see Prince Karu as the ruler of the realm, something that pleased Prince Karu to no end.
Now Kamako, we are told, was a man of upright and loyal character—meaning that at least the Chroniclers thought he was really something. He apparently despised what the Soga were attempting to do to manipulate the royal succession, especially given the recent bloodshed and extirpation of the Kamitsumiya princes. Kamako himself, realizing that something could happen to Takara at any moment, was trying to figure out who amongst the various royal princes would be worth supporting if it came to that. Of the various candidates he was very interested in Prince Naka no Ohoye, but as of yet their paths had not crossed, and he only knew him as a public figure, and not personally.
His chance came during a ball game—traditionally we are told that it was a game of kemari, played out by a keyaki, or Japanese zelkova tree. Imagine you are playing hacky-sack with a soccer ball, trying to keep it in the air as a group. You gather in a circle and you see how long you can keep it going. This is still played as a traditional game in Japan, and various versions of it appear throughout Asia, in both competitive and cooperative variations. During one of the kicks, Naka no Ohoye’s leather shoe flew off along with the ball, and Kamako picked it up and came over, kneeling before the prince as he offered the shoe with outstretched hand. Naka no Ohoye in turn knelt down and respectfully received it. It was bromance at first sight, and pretty soon they were telling each other everything, talking politics, government, and everything else.
Of course, if a royal prince was seen constantly talking with someone like Kamako, people might start to get suspicious about what they were doing together, so they came up with a scheme so that it wouldn’t be so obvious. They would both go study the classics of Zhou and Confucius with a teacher out in Minabuchi—probably one of the monks who had come back from the Tang court. On the way too and from their studies they could talk, and nobody would think anything of it.
Realizing that Naka no Ohoye had ambitions, Kamako counselled him to make a political marriage. Specifically he suggested the daughter of Soga no Kurayamada no Maro, also known as Ishikawa no Maro. He was a member of the Soga family descended from a brother to Soga no Emishi. With a marriage alliance to him, Naka no Ohoye could likely count on his support as they worked to thwart Soga no Iruka and his father.
However, the marriage almost fell through. Kamako was the go between, and Kurayamada agreed to the marriage, but on the night that Naka no Ohoye was to consummate his marriage with Maro’s eldest daughter, she was stolen away by a relation named Musa no Omi. Apparently they had their own plans.
Maro was devastated and knew this would be an extreme loss of face, plus he would miss out on the chance to ally himself with a member of the royal family. He looked everywhere trying to find his eldest, such that his youngest daughter asked him what was wrong. He told her what had happened and she told him she would go in her sister’s stead. She met with Naka no Ohoye and they consummated the marriage, after which we are told that she served him with all of her heart.
With Maro now bound by marriage, Kamako suggested a few more co-conspirators, including Saheki no Muraji no Komaro and Katsuraki no Wakainukahi no Muraji no Amida, whom they also brought on board.
Quick side note here: I love the name Wakainukahi. As far as I can parse it this is either the Young Dogkeeper family or, my preferred reading: The Puppy Keeper family. I just love the idea that some family’s job was just looking after the puppies. Once they grow up, then they go to the Inukahi. What a name.
Much of 644 following the accounts of Kamako and Naka no Ohoye, which likely all happened well before the date in the record given everything they talk about, concerns various reports. An owl had owlets in the Miyake of Ohotsu, which belonged to Soga no Emishi. I suspect that this was a less than auspicious omen. There was a report about a man who tried to capture a sleeping monkey, grabbing it by the arm, but the monkey sang a song which is said to have related to the siege of the Kamitsumiya princes on Mt. Ikoma. Unfortunately, the event had happened years prior and only now was being reported, much too late.
There was a lotus at Tsurugi pond that had two flowers on one stem. Soga no Emishi inferred that this meant prosperity for the Soga clan, and so he made a picture—or possibly a scroll—with golden ink and presented it to the 16 foot tall Buddha at Houkouji, aka Asukadera. I’m not sure that he interpreted that correctly, however.
We are told that Soga no Iruka built two houses on Amagashi hill: one for himself and one for his father. These were called the Upper Mikado and the Valley Mikado, which again sounds like they are taking on royal pretentions. Their sons and daughters were styled princes and princesses—though the terms Hiko and Hime at one point were used for just about anyone, so maybe they were just old fashioned and it got mistranslated? It is questionable how much of this was written down at the time and how much of it was being remembered. After all, this is only about 60 years or so before the Chronicles would be written, so not so far outside the realm of possibility that while it was being recorded there were people who could still remember something, though that memory might have been biased.
The houses were surrounded by palisades, with armories by the gates. Basically, they were building their own fortified dwellings. Each gate also had a tank for water and several tens of wooden hooks in case fire broke out. They also employed their own guards to ensure their safety.
Again, I am not sure if these are actually special, or just standard for a complex at the time. We know that often people would have to defend themselves from their houses, so this kinda sounds like routine good planning.
Soga no Emishi also had Osa no Atahe build the temple of Hokonuki on Mt. Ohoniho, and then he had a house built on the east side of Mt. Unebi and dug a pond—or possibly a moat—to make it a fortress. He likewise had an armory and a store of arrows. He also employed about 50 bodyguards to follow him around, since he apparently knew that he was a target. They were called the Eastern Company, possibly indicating they were made up of Emishi from the East, or possibly just indicating that it was men from the eastern countries. Or maybe something else all together.
As the most powerful man at court, people from the various uji regularly came to Emishi’s gate and waited on him. He called himself their father and called them his boys. The family of the Aya no Atahe apparently attended to the needs of both Emishi and Iruka.
In the first month of 645, we are told of a terrible portent, noticed far and wide. There was a sound like 10 or 20 monkeys crying and screaming, but if you looked there was nothing there, just the sound. It was heard on mountain-peaks, by river-sides, and in temples and shrines, or so we are told. Some people said it was messengers from the Great Deity of Ise, by which the Chroniclers likely meant Amaterasu, but I can’t help but wonder, with the monkey, or saru, connection, if they didn’t mean Sarutahiko, the sun deity from Ise who is enshrined at Tsubaki shrine, the Ichinomiya of Ise, especially as Amaterasu’s position may not have been quite as prominent just yet.
On the 8th day of the 6th month of 645, Prince Naka no Ohoye addressed his father-in-law, Soga no Kurayamada no Maro no Omi, and told him that the time had come. Envoys from the Korean peninsula were going to present their tribute at the Sovereign’s palace, and Maro would read the memorial before the throne. It was at that time that Prince Naka no Ohoye and his team would strike.
Sure enough, four days later, on the 12th day of the sixth month, Takara held court at the Daigyokuden, or main audience hall. Prince Furubito no Ohoye and Soga no Iruka were in attendance, along with others. As things were getting started, Nakatomi no Kamako taught some tricks to some performers in order to get Soga no Iruka to lighten up. Sure enough, Iruka laughed, and eventually unbuckled his sword and laid it down before taking his place in attendance by the throne.
As Kurayamada no Maro no Omi advanced and began to read aloud the memorials of the kingdoms of the Korean peninsula, Prince Naka no Ohoye went to the guards at the gates and had them fasten all twelve so that nobody could get in or out, and he promised them great rewards if they did as he asked. He then took a spear and hid it at one end of the hall. For his part, Kamako had loyal archers ready to go in case they were necessary. They then sent Ama no Inukai no Muraji no Katsumaro with a case with two swords—one for Saheki no Komaro and the other for Wakainukai no Amida, with a message: “Up! Up! Slay him quickly”
However, the two of them, realizing what they were about to do, felt their rice coming back up. And balked, so Naka no Ohoye had to go over and encourage them himself. At this point, Maro no Omi was starting to worry that the reading of the memorials would come to an end before things had been set in motion. He was sweating profusely and his hands shook, which drew questions from Soga no Iruka about why he was so nervous. Maro no Omi assured his cousin that it was just because he was there, in the Daigyokuden, in front of her majesty, and that seemed to satisfy him.
Naka no Ohoye, meanwhile, was realizing that Komaro and Amida were too intimidated by Soga no Iruka’s status, so he cried out and charged forward, at which point Komaro and Amida sprung to action. They reached Iruka and struck a blow before he even realized what was happening. It cut open his head and shoulder, but apparently only glancing, and not fatal, as Iruka immediately stood up. As he did so, Komaro turned the sword in his hand and wounded Iruka in the leg. Unable to stand, Iruka rolled over in front of Her majesty, bowed his head to the ground, and pleaded with her to stop this: “She who occupies the Hereditary Dignity is the Child of Heaven. I, Her servant, am conscious of no crime and I beseech Her to deign to make examination into this.”
Queen Takara was taken aback. She demanded an explanation from the attackers, “I know not what has been done. What is the meaning of this?” She had, of course, been kept out of the loop.
Her son, Naka no Ohoye, prostrated himself on the ground and spoke up for the group, saying, “Kuratsukuri”—by which he meant Soga no Iruka, using another name—“wished to destroy utterly the Celestial House and to subvert the Solar Dignity. Is Kuratsukuri to be substituted for the Celestial descendants?”
Hearing this and apparently quite taken aback, Takara retreated to the inner palace while Komaro and Amida slew Soga no Iruka. We can only imagine what must have been going through her head at that time. It wasn’t like 7th century Yamato was unaccustomed to violence, but this was something altogether different than anything seen before.
We are told that rain fell and that puddle-water overflowed the court. Soga no Iruka’s lifeless body was covered with mats and screens. One imagines that the onlookers who weren’t frozen in horror had tried to escape, and there was confusion over just what had happened. When Furubito no Ohoye saw Iruka’s body, he ran into his private quarters in the palace and told his people that he had been killed by the envoys. Furubito no Ohoye shut himself in his bedroom and refused to come out, afraid he might be next.
Meanwhile, Naka no Ohoye and his allies left the Itabuki palace and went to nearby Houkouji, Asukadera temple, and fortified it, in case Soga no Emishi heard about what had happened and was able to mount a counter attack. Prince Naka no Ohoye was joined not only by his co-conspirators, but by the royal princes, ministers, high officials and more: The Omi, Muraji, the Tomo no Miyatsuko and Kuni no Miyatsuko. The Chroniclers make sure to let us know that there was no love lost for the sake of Soga no Iruka, or at least the people had some idea of where this would all land.
Men were also sent to deliver the body of Soga no Iruka to his father.
As for the Aya no Atahe, their entire clan showed up, clad in armour and with weapons in hand, to aid Soga no Emishi. They formed an army, ready to do whatever was necessary. And so Naka no Ohoye sent general Kose no Tokudai to explain to the rebel band that they were on the wrong side of this one. As you may recall from earlier in this episode, Kose no Omi no Tokudai had been one of the men sent by Soga no Iruka to arrest Prince Yamashiro, so he wasn’t exactly a sworn enemy of the Soga. After listening to his words, Takamuku no Omi no Kunioshi, who had refused to go after Prince Yamashiro because of his work guarding the palace, addressed the Aya clan. “We are bound to receive capital punishment on account of our lord, Soga no Emishi’s, eldest son, and then he will face execution today or tomorrow. So whom should we fight for if we are all going to be put to death?” And with that, he took off his sword, threw it away, and deserted the cause. Once he did that, pretty soon the rest of the troops disbanded as well. Nobody was willing to die for a lost cause.
Soga no Emishi knew that he had no hope left. And so the next day he gathered his people and, before they were to be arrested and executed, they gathered up their treasures and objects of value, including the History of the Sovereigns and the History of the Country and set them on fire. The History of the Country, said to be the history written by Prince Umayado, was grabbed by Funa no Fubito no Yesaka out of the flames and delivered to Naka no Ohoye. Permission was given for the interment of Emishi and Iruka in tombs—likely the ones they had commissioned for themselves—and their friends and family were allowed to publicly grieve and lament.
The following day, on the 15th of the 6th month, Takara, known as Kougyouku Tennou, stepped down. She tried to make Naka no Ohoye the sovereign, but Kamako counselled against it. It really wouldn’t look good to go on a killing spree and then make yourself king. After all, Furubito no Ohoye was his older brother, and still alive, even if it was by another mother. And then there was his maternal uncle, Prince Karu. If Naka no Ohoye put himself before either of them, how would that look in the increasingly Confucian-influenced court circles? And so they pushed for Prince Karu to take the throne.
Prince Karu tried to decline and suggested that really it should be Prince Furubito no Ohoye, since Karu was a son of Tamura, the previous sovereign. Furubito no Ohoye, though, wanted nothing of this. He not only declined and refused to take the crown, but he made clear his desire to renounce the world and become a monk. Perhaps it had all been a bit too much—or he just didn’t want to be made into a target when he had seen what Naka no Ohoye could do with all of his support. No doubt he did the math in his head and his time on the throne would not be long, especially with his two major political allies dead and accused of trying to usurp the throne for themselves. He went right to Houkouji and had them shave his hair and beard and put on a kesa, a monk’s garment.
And so Prince Karu was left with no more excuses and took the throne, he would be known as Prince Koutoku, and it is here at the start of his reign where we see another continental tradition take hold in the islands, as it would not be known as much as the first year of Koutoku, but rather as the first year of Taika, the Great Change—and change was coming, indeed.
But we’ll save that for later. I think this is probably a good place to stop for now. We’ll probably revisit some other details of this period from 641 to 645, but I wanted to make sure we covered this incident, the “Isshi Incident” or “Isshi no Hen”, so called because it took place in the “Ki no to Mi” or “Isshi” year, which is to say the year of the wood snake, according to the Japanese sexagesimal calendar. There is still a lot going on with Baekje and the continent, not to mention a religious cult that sprang up during this period. All for a later episode.
Until then, thank you for listening and for all of your support.
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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.

References

McCallum, Donald F. (2009). The Four Great Temples: Buddhist Archaeology, Architecture, and Icons of Seventh-Century Japan. ISBN 978-0-8248-3114-1
Aston, W. G. (1972). Nihongi, chronicles of Japan from the earliest times to A.D. 697. London: Allen & Unwin. ISBN0-80480984-4

Rough Transcript

References